Idiocy.

November 1, 2007

This, is idiocy, through and through.

Will we never be able to fly sanely again?

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Ships.

March 22, 2007

I’m walking along the train platform to my usual spot. You know the way that people have “their” space? Well, I have mine, and I stand there every morning. I get annoyed if somebody is in my space.

This morning, somebody was. But this time, it was somebody I’d seen before, and I wasn’t annoyed. It’s difficult to be annoyed when a pretty face looks back and smiles. I’m not so sure I smiled back; I suspect she got my morning scowl in return. I tend not to be in a mood for communication while I’m in transit … I’ve simply left A, and I’m trying to reach B.

It took me a few moments to realise that I’d seen her here before. It takes a while for the more sociable parts of my mind to kick in sometimes, and so I missed those few moments where starting a conversation would have been socially acceptable. She continues to read her book, and I read mine.

Perhaps I’ll talk to her next time I’ll see her.

Hindsight.

March 19, 2007

I stood on the stairs at the front of the building, looking down at her. She stood quietly, arms crossed. “We had to talk.” That’s not quite true. The reality of the situation was that she had to talk, and I was going to listen. So often “We have to talk” means “I have something to say.”

And then those crushing words fell out of her mouth: “I don’t want to see you any more.”

At the time, it was a surprise. A genuine surprise; I thought things were going well. I remember walking, just walking, for hours the following day. It was a nice day, a sort of a bittersweet twist on the night previous. In hindsight, I now realise I didn’t have a clue how to conduct a relationship, and that I was probably in the relationship to be able to say that I was in a relationship. I was a drunk, and a no-hoper. I had two states: drunk, or hungover, and one was generally always cancelling the other out. Anybody putting money on me becoming a success were betting on the wrong horse. I wasn’t sober for about three years, and she happened right in the middle of all that. There’s so much I don’t remember about her.

Fast forward 7 years. I’m standing in the queue at the cinema, and one of the girls handling tickets looks strangely familiar. Is it her? I brush that particular crazy idea aside. It couldn’t be. She looks too different. But then I get up close, and check her name badge. Jeez, it is her. I haven’t seen or heard from her since that evening all those years ago.

We weren’t in a position to talk, I was served by somebody else. No eye-contact was made. But I wonder how long she’s been working there. Have I not noticed her before? Hell, have I spoken to her without realising? Our paths last crossed so long ago that I’m no longer bitter or annoyed about the whole thing. It might even be interesting to catch up.

But I wonder what she would think of the new, sober me? Would she be surprised at the success I have seen? I wonder what her life has dealt her? Perhaps I’ll go see a movie some time.

F_email.

March 9, 2007

Attached to International Women’s Day, just passed on Thursday, Cisco have launched F_email.

Now, the F_email scheme is apparently aiming to improve the tech skills of women in some nations which might not traditionally be thought of as “tech rich” nations, or indeed nations where more traditional values still hold onto societal roles. If done in a “gently, gently” manner, this certainly isn’t a bad idea.

So why then is it labeled as it is? Isn’t even the very name of this scheme tremendously condescending? To me, it screams “you’re different, but that’s okay. We’ll help you out. We’ll give you the extra help you need to achieve what the men already can.”

I’m sure Cisco means well, but I really don’t think something like this helps.