Post for a friend

I wouldn't write tonight - but Marie is sleeping so I can't call, and this is how she checks on me. Keeps an eye on the measure of fight in me and the potential for joy.

The meeting with the Evil Corporation (EC) went well today. As well as it could have. The thought that my pristine, clear-conscienced business might sign an agreement to collaborate with the EC makes me shudder a bit. Glad for the courage from my recent adventures in France where our true value was made clear; confirmation that we're headed in the right way. Reminding myself that, in spite of the grilling and constant questions about our work and past performance, they need us more than we need the EC.

Entrenched white males whose life success metrics include big paychecks, generous bonuses, large shiny conference tables, and a big company name to rest against, are a bit threatened by our scrappy outfit. But god help us if we ever become so cumbersome an animal as that dinosaur. It was almost a joy to feel the contrast in that conference room, the fact that we are not beholden to these types of people. We shed the skin of those things long ago and we wriggle around in the sunshine, deciding to serve the mission and not the money.

They wanted to know about us. About our work. About our model. They challenged our claims, and posited scenarios where our models might not work. But our models were built in the field. They hold up under scrutiny - and they work.

They wanted us. But we scared them. We were operational. We were driven. We were women. Eve wore a short, tight sailor striped skirt that threatened to show her panties (and, later, enjoying coffee at a low chair in Starbucks, did) and she seemed to be enjoying the meeting quite as much as if they were trying to tempt us into a relaxing pedicure (the G-rated analogy). She gave them her naval pedigree and "S", a former special forces operative, brightened, leaned in, and gave her his complete attention. She told him, "Dr. H and I were trying to solve the problems in the mission - and, since nobody ever stopped us, we ran amok."

Yes. That is what we did. We ran amok. We continue to run amok. And since we work for ourselves, nobody stops us.

This concept frightened these men. What, exactly, they're frightened of - I don't know. Perhaps its that deep male fear that inspired the invention of chastity belts and witch trials.

M, who had brought us in, was was frustrated by the men whose fear seemed to trump their wisdom. "Most people who come in are all hat, no cattle," he told us later on the phone. "You have the expertise we want to build."

April 2009. Who would have suspected what this would turn into?