Cancel me this
An uncomfortable train ride into work, as is usually the case after the previous train has been cancelled. Two trains' worth of sleepy, grumpy morning commuters compactly packed into one.
Nine hours later, the train that was going to take me closer to home was also cancelled.
Between two trains that never arrived, I'd managed a session of a usability test. There were supposed to be have been two, but guess what, the first one got cancelled and was eventually postponed. Of course, this wasn't established until we actually arrived at the client's office, after we turned up late (not my fault!), much to my annoyance and hair-moulting stress. It was early Monday morning, and already, I felt like hitting someone ... Neh, I don't want to talk about this.
It turned out to be a lazy Sunday in the end. I finalised the test scenarios and seemed to have done little else. Some hours of tender conversation with the beloved, some time teaching the memory of my fingers to coordinate with the Schumann score my eyes were trying to read.
It is always strange re-learning a piece of music that you have previously committed to memory. Without looking at the score, I can play it almost perfectly, but if I try to read the music at the same time, I would be completely lost. So why am I re-learning? Note the word "almost" from two sentences ago ...
My fingers have been in a poor state ever since the hens' night last week. The hot dry air due to the heater at the restaurant caused the skin on my fingertips to dry up and peel, and the resultant effect is not unlike a mild burn, or even eczema. And yes, they get a little sore.
Saturday was pleasantly spent at a wedding held at a restaurant/reception place up in the mountains. A quaint venue, a simple and lovely wedding. I caught up with good friends and became acquainted with one of their girlfriends whom I haven't yet met, switching between talking about the W3C specs and aspects of visual arts, depending on who I was speaking to at the time. The rain held off until the wedding was over; nice of the weather to be considerate for a change.
The two days of conference have left me simultaneously fired up, messed up and contemplative. Meeting a large number of people with the same fundamental outlook on a given issue (or two) always makes for good memories and good thinking material.
On Friday, after it was all over, a bunch of us sat in the bar downstairs socialising between several bottles of red and sparkling wine. I ended up sitting on the floor because all the seats had been taken - I didn't mind, I generally much prefer the floor. The view of the world is different at ground level.
Wendy joined me a little while later, and we skimmed our way through idle yet intellectual small talk. Picture constant changing group dynamics as some others joined us and then left again, gentle swirls of conversation forming and dissipating as people come and go.
In the end, there was Wendy, Lisa and me. Three women from three very different corners of the earth. We talked about Israel, about the US and Afghanistan, about global politics and the changing face of feminism, amongst other issues. Lisa brought up an interesting point: that many women feel as if they have to pretend to be men or be masculine in order to gain equality. And really, what should be happening is that women should be gaining status as themselves, and that we as a society have to understand that women function differently to men (even women have to accept this).
It was a beautiful and rare experience for me, exchanging worldly views and worldly ideas with two other technical, thinking women.
Finally, as we were saying individual goodbyes, I was putting on my coat when Lisa, who was still sitting on the floor, looked up at me and said, "That's a lovely jacket."
"It's a little thick," I replied. "I'm only wearing it because I can't be bothered having to carry it."
"But it's very nice! Looks good on you."
My smile turned into a full scale girlish grin.
And it struck me then, a sudden bolt of faith, how incredibly true to ourselves we as women can still be and how exquisite we are even if we still have tough battles to fight - but only if we allow ourselves the priviledge that is already ours.
[Corresponding dandruff flake][Comment?]
19 November 2001, Monday, 10:06 PM
Alter ego of dandruff
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