![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
f4f3...but when has that ever stopped me?
First of all, WHAAAA! Life is a bit full on at the moment, and it won't slow down much before March, if then. Probably not then, because I have my 50th in March, and seem to have agreed to be in Arran and possibly Switzerland.
But the last few days have been particularly busy, and I feel like that scene where the Enterprise is just about to go to Warp, and it stretches out VERRRRY thin (Captain).
I worked in Inverness for three days this week, worked in Edinburgh on Thursday, and then worked in Glasgow on Friday before going through to Edinburgh for a night out.
The Inverness work is going well, but it's a high stress sort of thing. Most of the work is been done by three of us, who've been described as "The A Team" by the customer (but no one else). I've given the other two permission to shoot me in the head if I ever refer to us as a Tiger Team.
Friday was a welcome break. I took the train through to Edinburgh and caught the tail end of a symposium on Louise Bourgeois - I'd seen the Museum of Modern Art's retrospective in Edinburgh at the start of January, and L had been invited to the talk (This should be a footnote. I should learn to do footnotes. L, who I've probably not mentioned, is a friend who's moved up from London to work at the Art School - we're keeping each other company, in a friendly way. For the avoidance of doubt, my relationship status is still Single By Choice, and likely to remain that way for a while).
As I said, I got there late, but in time to realise that the gender balance was seriously out of whack. Maybe 5 of the 70 or so people there were men. And 2 of them were serving behind the bar. I got a little feel of what it must be like to be a woman in an IT company....
We then went on to Harvey Nick's for cocktails - not my choice, though the view from the small nook I prefer is stunning. And again, two or three men, twenty or so women. It's the end of the world as I know it, and I felt fine.
Yesterday was slightly less frantic, but I still managed to fit in a visit to the gym, two exhibitions, dinner and a classical concert. Clare Lucas at the Tramway was pretty disappointing. I'm familiar with the idea that men masturbate, and that some of them use porn. I don't think my understanding was deepened by a twenty foot long motor-powered wanking arm, and a crashed lorry. I couldn't decide if this was brave work from 25 years ago, breaking some barriers that needed breaking, or was just a one note joke, that wore out its point very quickly. But I didn't stay long.
The second show was a small set of paintings by an artist called Frank To, who I met at the fencing club about 3 or 4 years ago. The show was some early stuff (including one piece from his graduation show) and while it didn't grab me the way his new stuff does, there was an abstract I really liked - if I hadn't been wiped out by the tax man I'd have had a tough call to make. I might still have.
As it was, I went on (via dinner) to the Royal Concert Hall, and the Alexander Gibson Memorial Concert by the Scottish National Orchestra. First time I've been in the front row for a full orchestra performance for a long time, and it really was a great show. For those of you who keep notes: Wagner Overture to Tannhäuser, Mozart Piano Concerto No17, Walton Symphony No1, Peter Oundjian conducting and
Today was supposed to be the day of rest. I made it to the Quaker house, and then spent a little time tidying and recycling, and then the lovely Delilly and her equally lovely intended dropped in, and we had a little bit of fizz and dinner.
And now I'm going to bed, because I have to be on the road to Inverness tomorrow morning...
First of all, WHAAAA! Life is a bit full on at the moment, and it won't slow down much before March, if then. Probably not then, because I have my 50th in March, and seem to have agreed to be in Arran and possibly Switzerland.
But the last few days have been particularly busy, and I feel like that scene where the Enterprise is just about to go to Warp, and it stretches out VERRRRY thin (Captain).
I worked in Inverness for three days this week, worked in Edinburgh on Thursday, and then worked in Glasgow on Friday before going through to Edinburgh for a night out.
The Inverness work is going well, but it's a high stress sort of thing. Most of the work is been done by three of us, who've been described as "The A Team" by the customer (but no one else). I've given the other two permission to shoot me in the head if I ever refer to us as a Tiger Team.
Friday was a welcome break. I took the train through to Edinburgh and caught the tail end of a symposium on Louise Bourgeois - I'd seen the Museum of Modern Art's retrospective in Edinburgh at the start of January, and L had been invited to the talk (This should be a footnote. I should learn to do footnotes. L, who I've probably not mentioned, is a friend who's moved up from London to work at the Art School - we're keeping each other company, in a friendly way. For the avoidance of doubt, my relationship status is still Single By Choice, and likely to remain that way for a while).
As I said, I got there late, but in time to realise that the gender balance was seriously out of whack. Maybe 5 of the 70 or so people there were men. And 2 of them were serving behind the bar. I got a little feel of what it must be like to be a woman in an IT company....
We then went on to Harvey Nick's for cocktails - not my choice, though the view from the small nook I prefer is stunning. And again, two or three men, twenty or so women. It's the end of the world as I know it, and I felt fine.
Yesterday was slightly less frantic, but I still managed to fit in a visit to the gym, two exhibitions, dinner and a classical concert. Clare Lucas at the Tramway was pretty disappointing. I'm familiar with the idea that men masturbate, and that some of them use porn. I don't think my understanding was deepened by a twenty foot long motor-powered wanking arm, and a crashed lorry. I couldn't decide if this was brave work from 25 years ago, breaking some barriers that needed breaking, or was just a one note joke, that wore out its point very quickly. But I didn't stay long.
The second show was a small set of paintings by an artist called Frank To, who I met at the fencing club about 3 or 4 years ago. The show was some early stuff (including one piece from his graduation show) and while it didn't grab me the way his new stuff does, there was an abstract I really liked - if I hadn't been wiped out by the tax man I'd have had a tough call to make. I might still have.
As it was, I went on (via dinner) to the Royal Concert Hall, and the Alexander Gibson Memorial Concert by the Scottish National Orchestra. First time I've been in the front row for a full orchestra performance for a long time, and it really was a great show. For those of you who keep notes: Wagner Overture to Tannhäuser, Mozart Piano Concerto No17, Walton Symphony No1, Peter Oundjian conducting and
Richard Goode humming along to his wonderful piano playing.
Today was supposed to be the day of rest. I made it to the Quaker house, and then spent a little time tidying and recycling, and then the lovely Delilly and her equally lovely intended dropped in, and we had a little bit of fizz and dinner.
And now I'm going to bed, because I have to be on the road to Inverness tomorrow morning...
