June 06, 2007
Event over and we didn't win but that's ok, you can't win them all.
I left the event early actually-when we arrived at the ballroom it was hotter than fuck in the building because the air conditioner crapped out. Although we complained there was nothing that could be done, so about 400 of us sweated it out. As one of only a handful of women bedecked in shoulder baring clothes I had it easy-I was half-naked in a wispy dress. We fared much better than the menfolk, as they were cinched up in their penguin suits. And when I say it was hot in that room, I'm not exaggerating in the least. The men had their handkerchiefs out and continuously moving to mop up the sweat (I really felt bad for them, I can't imagine facing that kind of heat while wearing both a tie and a dinner jacket). I wasn't so great either-my makeup did a runner, I had sweat rivulets running down my legs, and the heat did nothing positive for The Lemonheads, as I swelled up to roughly the size of something that Japanese commercial fishermen would be keen to throw a harpoon at.
In the end I'd run out of time before the event, so I wore my hair down with a slight wave in the back.
Here's me (with a colleague, whom I've cropped out):
And me in the bathroom with bad fluorescent lighting and cut off at the waist (I only had a second before someone else came in to the bathroom, and there's nothing weirder than seeing someone with a camera in the toilets):
I have to confess - and this is not because I'm looking for contradictions or compliments, because I'm really not - but I didn't feel all glowy and floaty and dreamy. I felt sweaty. I felt swollen. I felt huge. I felt I wasn't remotely attractive, I was just pregnant.
I enjoyed spending time with my team though, even if I didn't get to partake in the guzzling of the copious amounts of free champagne. While we were melting into a pool of liquid goo a nice older man came up to talk to my team. He was the absolute typical enigneering type-greying, glasses, bow tie askew and black pen marks on his white tuxedo shirt. He introduced himself as James and asked us about our project. He knew a lot about it and had a lot of information, and I jumped in and gave my opinion about various things.
My hands kept twitching to fix his bow tie, as it was completely askew.
He asked more questions.
It literally was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he wouldn't mind if I fixed his tie (I had even licked my lips and inhaled to push the sound out of the sound box) when they called us out of the sweat box ballroom to move us into the dinner room for the meal and the awards. James promised to stay in touch with us and our future projects. I liked the chap.
We sat and had some starters, and then the first presenter went up to talk.
I saw with a start that the speaker was James.
Only he isn't just James, he's Sir James. As in Landed Gentry James. As in "gives off air of doddering geek but really has sums of money so vast I can't even comprehend them" James.
I was awfully glad then that I didn't fix his tie.
There are a lot of things I have gotten used to living here in England, but as long as I live I will never get used to the idea of mingling with men who have been knighted. It's just too much for my tiny brain to manage.
Anyway, we're off this evening on Angus' birthday celebration - taking the sleeper train up to Fort William (Scotland) then a few days tooling around the Hebrides before taking the sleeper train back home again.
I'll see you on Tuesday.
-H.
* Quote from Good Morning, Vietnam.
PS-London's 2012 Olympic logo sucks donkey balls. I could've put a crayon between Gorby's paws and he'd had done a better job than that.
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