Its been a difficult couple of weeks – no doubt about that. But despite recent blog content, it has been far from doom and gloom.
Quite the opposite. Just that some of the more dramatic events have been a bit fraught.
And, of course, the “going-to-London-and-coming-back-again-late-at-night” looks likely to be an ever-more difficult trick to pull, given the stretch of unlit unpatrolled Peterborough it will always involve.
But Saturday was a lovely evening. Not exactly andrea’s cup of tea, and she preferred to stay at home. It was the F-Word’s tenth anniversary celebration, and there was much to celebrate. A decade of interesting and often ground-breaking feminist writing. An informal project that has grown to become something of an institution in its own right.
I was seriously honoured to receive an invite: and doubly happy when I walked thru the door and, instead of the massed ranks of hyper-serious anonymous writers I had feared, was greeted by quite a few familiar faces, and plenty of new and friendly ones.
An interesting difference in perspective. From andrea’s point of view, my story, once I got back home, fulfilled all of her worst nightmares: feminists (she’s not a fan). A vegetarian buffet (she is known very occasionally to resort to vegetables – but mostly under duress, and after the steak has been eaten). Worst of all, given her terminally sceptic posture on such things: there was poetry!
Ye-es. I loved it all: loved the chance to chat with others about things they had written and to delve behind the surface. So I had some serious conversations – and some not so. I got to dance – and remembered, far too late, that nowadays, if I am planning any sort of intense physical activity, I really ought to wear at least a vest!
A great disco, stuffed full with tracks I hadn’t danced to for fifteen years or more – thanks, Holly! – and some interesting reminiscences listening to X-Ray Specs rendition of “Oh Bondage: up yours!”. Was my memory playing tricks? Or had it been re-mastered and cleaned up slightly.
Nah. Not the words. But the sound quality. I always liked that track for its raw scratchiness, which seemed to have been removed somewhere along the way.
What more could one ask? Oh, yes: cake. There were several large birthday cakes, there to be dissected for the assembled masses and a selection of subversive cupcakes, provided by – who else? – the subversive cupcake company.
All round, a brilliant night, proving that it is possible to do a bit of politics and have fun at the same time. Inspiration for me to pull my finger out and get a bit more involved.
Proof, also, that my last fortnight has had its ups as well as downs!