maim-tag

This week I was at a conference. And at this conference, I received an interactive name-tag. This interactive name-tag was to be the bane of my existence for the next three days. First of all, the name-tag was interactive. Let’s be clear: I can barely stand interacting with people at conferences. Now I have to interact with name-tags, too? The name-tag had my agenda in it. Handy, you might think. This would be extremely handy if it, say, could be accessed at whim. Unfortunately, the interface was so slow as to be infuriating. It took several seconds for the accelerometer to turn the thing on, then another 30-40 seconds to get the buttons to respond. Plus the thing was the size of a TV remote control, clunky and uncomfortable on a lanyard around the...

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Posted on 27 Apr 2007 | 6 comments

fly away

When all the words fly away, not from lips to ears, but from eyes to hands – This week began with an awakening before dawn, four-something, bleary dark muffling the room. Something Was Wrong, but I dismissed that twitch as a dream-thread caught in the corner of my mouth. Walking took me to bus took me to work took me to the news that someone was killing other someones on the other side of the country. I was confused; am confused; have no understanding still. Sad, scared. My heart sank as forty-five minutes passed me on the street in a neighborhood I want to call home. No one was showing up. Was anyone showing up? I drank a glass of wine and talked to a gentleman who insisted that God doesn’t let anyone down. I didn’t argue but I wanted to:...

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Posted on 20 Apr 2007 | 7 comments

migration

Three years ago, after a while of skulking around the edges, I decided to move to the City. Serendipity in the form of Inkbot and her two-bedroom flat arrived, and so Zen and I flew into our new nest that spring. All good things must come to an end, it is said and it is true. Inkbot’s own migratory pattern pulls her southerly to pursue her writing career in the land of Lost Angels. And so our nest in the big Oak will be empty come summertime. As you can imagine, this new development is bittersweet for all involved; anyone knowing Inkbot for more than a tea-time wishes her more happiness than can be found or carried in cups and saucers. But not to be able to reach across the table and pat the fond hand is a loss no matter how generous you are. While she...

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Posted on 14 Apr 2007 | 2 comments

walk don’t walk

It took me a long time to learn how to walk, my parents say. Now that I know how to walk and have done it for a few decades, I don’t want to stop. Some days I think about walking home and just walking past, walking to the ocean, and then turning around and walking back again. I love to walk like some people I know love to run. They have always gone faster, and I don’t mind anymore. Walking is my everything medicine. When I have insomnia, I walk. When I am sad, I walk. Angry, walk. Confused, walk. Hungry, walk (to pick up food). A few hours ago, I read that Kurt Vonnegut died, and I immediately wanted two things: I wanted to walk, and I wanted at the end of that walk to be a group of my friends sitting in a pub and talking about how...

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Posted on 11 Apr 2007 | 6 comments

the yay and the nay

The yay: Making it through an all-day offsite meeting and somehow giving a presentation in front of what felt like eleventy billion people but was in all probability only 40 or so. The nay: Pulling it off so well that people are inevitably going to ask me to do it again. The yay: Celebrating afterwards with wonderful people I don’t get to see hardly enough because there is no SF-London bridge (yet) nor teleportation nor jetpacks and is this the frigging future or WHAT? Come on, people! The nay: Overdoing it. Just an eensy-weensy bit, measuring “eensy-weensy” by units of gin and tonic. And having to be up for an 08:00 conference call. Owmyhead. The yay: Meeting with my writing group tonight. I love my writing peeps. The nay: Trying to give...

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Posted on 4 Apr 2007 | Comments Off