girl in me, would prefer it if he were horrified. As if that were somehow a guarantee that Sam was a higher life-form, more capable of caring and commitment or something. I think Iâm getting in touch with my inner pagan. I must reread Camille Paglia.
I really did mean to tell you all about the conference, but maybe Iâll do that in another letter.
Do tell me what youâve been up to. You owe me a vicarious adventure.
Much love,
Helen
PS Please, please do me a favour and not mention any of this to anyone. As you know, Iâm not really the confessional type. Then again, thereâs usually not much for me to confess!
Helen pressed CONTROL P . The departmental laser printer whirred into action. She glanced at her watch. It was getting onto evening and sheâd told Julia that sheâd meet her for dinner. She wanted to go home and change first. But there was still time to do a few more things before leaving the office. She quickly tapped out two letters to colleagues, one at the ANU and another at Melbourne University, requesting copies of the papers theyâd given at the conference. She then composed a cover letter to send with a copy of her own paper to a prestigious womenâs studies journal in the US, printed all of these out and started a note to her parents, who lived in Perth. She went to the photocopy machine and made a few copies of an article she thought would interest her colleagues, and of some of her own writing for her parents.
Dear Mum and Dad,
Hope this finds you both well. Iâm so glad Dad has recovered. Youâve got to be so careful with a heart condition. Remember what the doctor saidâno stress and no undue excitement.
Sorry I havenât written for a while. Iâve been working long hours. Last week I presented a paper at a conference in Canberra on food, women and film. It caused quite a bit of discussion, so I suppose from that standpoint it was a success, and Iâve just finished revising it (partly on the basis of the comments at the conference) to submit to a journal in the States.
Other than that, I havenât been doing much of interest to report. I see a fair bit of the girls, of course, and they all said to send their best to Dad and to say theyâre glad heâs doing so well. Juliaâs heading off to China in January on a three-week cultural exchange. Sheâs very excited.
Iâm enclosing photocopies of the paper I gave at the ANU. Let me know what you think. Iâll write again soon.
Take care.
love,
Hellie
Helen swept the sheets of paper off the top of the laser printer and glanced at her watch. Damn! Sheâd be late if she didnât hurry now. She closed all the files, saving the workrelated ones and dragging the others into the little trash bin on the bottom right hand corner of the computer screen. She told the computer to empty the trash. While shutting the machine down, she fumbled in her desk drawer for A4-size university envelopes. Hastily, she addressed them and shoved the letters into the envelopes together with the photocopies. She tossed the envelopes, all of which were quite fat, into the outgoing mail sack. After a quick trip to the toilet, she returned to her office to grab her bag, turned off the lights, locked the door, and headed out of the building. She was nearly at the front door when she turned around. She half-ran back to the mail sack and, rummaging through its contents, retrieved the letter to Fiona. Maybe, she thought, I should just have another look at this before mailing it. Maybe, she thought, I wonât mail it at all.
Helen arrived ten minutes late at the new Thai restaurant where she was meeting Julia, but Julia wasnât there yet. Chantal had recommended the place to them. The interior had been featured in Pulse. While she waited for Julia, Helen looked around at walls painted to look like the outside of a decaying building, complete with graffiti; she gaped at the wildly tilted and
I really did mean to tell you all about the conference, but maybe Iâll do that in another letter.
Do tell me what youâve been up to. You owe me a vicarious adventure.
Much love,
Helen
PS Please, please do me a favour and not mention any of this to anyone. As you know, Iâm not really the confessional type. Then again, thereâs usually not much for me to confess!
Helen pressed CONTROL P . The departmental laser printer whirred into action. She glanced at her watch. It was getting onto evening and sheâd told Julia that sheâd meet her for dinner. She wanted to go home and change first. But there was still time to do a few more things before leaving the office. She quickly tapped out two letters to colleagues, one at the ANU and another at Melbourne University, requesting copies of the papers theyâd given at the conference. She then composed a cover letter to send with a copy of her own paper to a prestigious womenâs studies journal in the US, printed all of these out and started a note to her parents, who lived in Perth. She went to the photocopy machine and made a few copies of an article she thought would interest her colleagues, and of some of her own writing for her parents.
Dear Mum and Dad,
Hope this finds you both well. Iâm so glad Dad has recovered. Youâve got to be so careful with a heart condition. Remember what the doctor saidâno stress and no undue excitement.
Sorry I havenât written for a while. Iâve been working long hours. Last week I presented a paper at a conference in Canberra on food, women and film. It caused quite a bit of discussion, so I suppose from that standpoint it was a success, and Iâve just finished revising it (partly on the basis of the comments at the conference) to submit to a journal in the States.
Other than that, I havenât been doing much of interest to report. I see a fair bit of the girls, of course, and they all said to send their best to Dad and to say theyâre glad heâs doing so well. Juliaâs heading off to China in January on a three-week cultural exchange. Sheâs very excited.
Iâm enclosing photocopies of the paper I gave at the ANU. Let me know what you think. Iâll write again soon.
Take care.
love,
Hellie
Helen swept the sheets of paper off the top of the laser printer and glanced at her watch. Damn! Sheâd be late if she didnât hurry now. She closed all the files, saving the workrelated ones and dragging the others into the little trash bin on the bottom right hand corner of the computer screen. She told the computer to empty the trash. While shutting the machine down, she fumbled in her desk drawer for A4-size university envelopes. Hastily, she addressed them and shoved the letters into the envelopes together with the photocopies. She tossed the envelopes, all of which were quite fat, into the outgoing mail sack. After a quick trip to the toilet, she returned to her office to grab her bag, turned off the lights, locked the door, and headed out of the building. She was nearly at the front door when she turned around. She half-ran back to the mail sack and, rummaging through its contents, retrieved the letter to Fiona. Maybe, she thought, I should just have another look at this before mailing it. Maybe, she thought, I wonât mail it at all.
Helen arrived ten minutes late at the new Thai restaurant where she was meeting Julia, but Julia wasnât there yet. Chantal had recommended the place to them. The interior had been featured in Pulse. While she waited for Julia, Helen looked around at walls painted to look like the outside of a decaying building, complete with graffiti; she gaped at the wildly tilted and
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