I’m getting ready to travel to America for YAPC::NA.  I took a quick look at the schedule and it’s possible that I am the only female speaker.  This morning I have mixed feelings about that.  I spoke at last year’s conference.  Whilst attending the speaker’s dinner I was asked “whose wife are you?”.  It never occurred to the person speaking to me that I was  there because I was a speaker.  And that’s not the first time that had happened at a technical conference.

I expected to become more comfortable the more of these conferences I attended.  But that doesn’t seem to be happening.  Last year I had one too many strange things said to me.  I ended up feeling isolated and different from the other attendees.  I became wary of the hundreds of men who surrounded me wondering when the next one would say something crude.  When I complained to some male friends I got asked if I couldn’t take a joke.  And you know what?  Sometimes I can’t take a joke.  Sometimes I don’t want people to draw attention to my sex and sometimes I get defensive and upset.

This is not something I like.  I don’t like that one man making an inappropriate comment about me paying him for sex can spoil an entire conference dinner.  I know he was only joking but unfortunately that’s the comment that sticks with me, not the hundreds of other perfectly acceptable comments that were made on the same night.  I know he meant no harm but suddenly I am aware that it’s only me that he’s speaking to like that; he certainly isn’t suggesting similar things to the men.

It’s hard to be one of ten women in a room with three hundred men.  I  can do it but I’m not surprised that many others don’t even try.

I’ve been trying to find exercise to do that I enjoy and that I can sensibly add to my daily routine.  I woke up this morning wanting to cycle.  The river path is so peaceful and it wasn’t too hot.  I’m not sure how viable cycling will be once it’s gets really hot but for now I’m going to enjoy my morning cycles.

We took our bikes with us today.  I still don’t feel confident cycling.  Cycling in Japan is awkward.  The strange combination of using footpaths and roads confuses me.  And I find it really hard to cycle on narrow streets with pedestrians and other cyclists heading straight towards me.  I’m sure there are rules, but it feels like a free-for-all.

I agreed to cycle as long as I didn’t have to cycle on busy roads.  The plan was to cycle to Mr Donut (a side-effect of making toy donuts in the morning) and then to cycle back along the river.  You can imagine how thrilled I was when I ended up having to cycle uphill on a busy road full of lorries.  I had no idea where we were and what had happened to the river.  And neither did Marty.  I knew things weren’t going well when Marty checked google maps and told me that we were about to cross the river – just not the one that’s beside our apartment.

We did manage to find the right river and our way home but it wasn’t exactly the pleasant cycle I had imagined.  It wasn’t a complete disaster though as we discovered a few new places and I did get to eat donuts.  I also got to try out my new camera lens.

I spent the morning at the local children’s library making soft toys.  I went with a group of people from Marty’s work.  It’s the sort of thing I wish I could do by myself but my Japanese still isn’t good enough.  I do find Japanese easier to understand when I know what the topic of the conversation is going to be but I still struggled today.  Thankfully sewing is something that you can concentrate on without being expected to chat.

Marty and I thought it would be fun to try to make a traditional Northern Irish breakfast.  We wanted this to contain soda farls, potato bread, and back bacon.

Potato bread is quite easy to make and it’s not difficult to buy potatoes, butter, and flour in Tokyo.  Potatoes are also sold here in threes and fours; the perfect amount for making bread.

Making soda bread was more difficult.  One of the main ingredients is buttermilk, which we can’t buy in Tokyo.  There are a variety of substitutes for this and today we used milk soured with lemon juice.

Most of the bacon sold here is the American streaky bacon.  I don’t really like this and wanted to get back bacon.  I ordered this from the meat guy.  The bacon was the least successful part of breakfast.  Not because the meat was bad it’s just that it didn’t taste like Irish bacon.  We joked that we missed the food colouring that makes Irish bacon look pinker.  I think we actually expected it to be smoked or maple cured.

It took much longer to make than it would in Belfast.  It was a fun way to spend the morning even though we made too much food.  Maybe, when I lived in Belfast, I could have eaten it all but here I didn’t manage to eat half of it.

I have started to knit again.  I was taught to knit in primary school.  I remember being the worst knitter in my class.  I just couldn’t get the wool round the needles correctly.  My teacher realised that my problem could be solved by teaching me to knit left-handed.

Left-handed knitting does make it difficult for me to learn new techniques. I find it really hard to follow the instructions.  I also find watching other people knit confusing.  I now get Marty to translate confusing knitting instructions for me.  It should be a simple matter for me to reverse the instructions but you only have to mention left and right and I’m bewildered.

I’ve been amused by the English descriptions on my balls of wool:

Cotton Rainette – Because growth is early, the white pine is useful for a natural environmental protection.  Richmond’s ecology mind is spoken for.

Margherita – The long pitch printed tape yarn.  It would assume a butterfly is flitting around the garden of rape blossoms.

And I thought the patterns were hard to understand!

It’s such a beautiful day that I decided to cycle along the river.  It’s hot but no hotter than the hottest day of a Belfast summer.  The air smells of wild flowers, of daisies, dandelions, and rose of sharon.

I was reminded of childhood summers spent playing in the park.  I used to lie in the grass with my friends and little sister making daisy chains.  We wore crowns made of daisies and forgot to go home in time for tea.

I wake up everyday to stiff and achy muscles.  The variety in my exercise program does lead to variety in my achiness.

At the start of the program, two weeks ago, I got out a measuring tape.  It’s a horrifying experience (who wants to know how fat they really are) but at least now I know that after two weeks my waist is 5 centimetres smaller.

I haven’t felt like blogging lately.  I’ve started an new exercise regime which is zapping all my energy.  I need to do this as my under-active thyroid has done bad things to my muscles and I want to get stronger.

Today I start week two of the 100 push-ups challenge and the 200 sit-ups challenge.  Once I do that I have 30 minutes of high-impact aerobics.  After that –  I’ll just collapse in a heap.