Monday, August 08, 2005 Technology: one woman's journey
History is now: not only am I the only one home, but all my housemates are gone, including my summer housemate, her twelve year old sister (who has been visiting for a week and inspiring everyone to remain fully dressed when in common spaces), and the large, joyful, bitey dog that has been keeping the cats in their place. I know at least one of them went to weaving camp, and I bet that's where they all are. It sounds like them, and I can't keep track.
My housemates' angrier cat just licked my head and purred for a few minutes. I'm not sure if it's because I fed her, because my head tastes like delicious hair dye (I'm more brunette than usual today), or because she thinks I made the dog go away. Now she's glaring at me as I type about her. You see, this is a valuable lesson. Sometimes people resent it when they become characters on your weblog.
See, too, these themes that I'm writing about? Sisters? Cats? Resentment? Weaving?
This is one key way to tell if a woman has been using your technology. Footprints in the butter and so forth. My sister (actual blood relation, not "ya-ya" or "of the traveling pants") writes at length on women getting into the technology on her own fine personal homepage, but I thought--sorry, it's lady's day: I felt I should share what it is like to be near technology when you are a girl. In keeping with today's theme, it is a first person personal essay.
(This is the start of the essay down here. I have put references to technology and related attitudes in bold-face type.)
Sometimes I think about making a t-shirt that says "I don't really identify as a receptionist" and wearing it to work, but I think it would lead clients to ask me questions about my hopes and dreams, and up with that I could not put. I prefer to remain a little island of reception in a sea of swirling hair and refuse to pay attention to my surroundings. There are times, particularly when there's a lot of stylists working and the phone rings constantly, that I pull out the pocket calculator that I use to add up the totals when I close, and I add numbers such as 13 and 16 together to give the customers the price of their products or services when they come to pay. I know that I star in anecdotes in a certain type of household. "And that girl at the cash register! My God, her highlights were exquisite, but talk about dumb!" Ask me how I know about such households, such anecdotes. One always has to find innovative ways to shame her family. posted by Frenz | 8/08/2005 08:40:00 PM
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