Random Musings

Well and so. About 9.30 this evening I realised that I'd been getting increasingly grumpy, tired and bad tempered. The polite term is 'out of sorts.' Then I realised that I hadn't had dinner yet, and that I'd been eating exceedingly poorly for most of the week. One beefsteak with savoury stuffing plus Real Vegetables (TM) later, and I feel a lot better. Aaaaah...

The electronic course catalogue for next year has come out and I've been spending some time thinking about courses. My number 1 first choices are theoretically possible, but would mean swallowing some extremely unpalatable timetable combinations, so I've been having a bit of a rethink. Still undecided, however.

What the...?

Well and so. I'm sitting at home writing a comparative essay on a bunch of English Renaissance texts, and alternately reading a Georgette Heyer novel to take my mind off things.

The essay is ... getting there. Right now I'm about to start a paragraph on feminine chastity and how it's a real fascination of these texts, and need to find some way to make it link in with the ideal of nobility, which is what the essay is officially about.

On the other hand, the novel is getting weird. (Georgette Heyer, Lady of Quality, (London: Arrow Books, 2005).) The female lead has fallen in love with the male lead, the male lead has fallen in love with the female lead, and he's just proposed to her! There's nearly 70 pages left to go! What is she thinking! I should add that in Heyer's world it isn't at all unusual for the proposal, or even marriage, to happen very early in the piece, but the complication there is the marriage of convenience, and the need for both partners to realise that they're actually in love with their spouses. Here, there is no such complication.

I'm so confused...

EDIT: A bunch of people got the flu. I say again: What the...?
EDIT2: Essay going well. Just managed to squeeze in a gratuitous reference to Volpone which we haven't even been studying, because the Celia subplot fit in well with the whole chastity thing. 1200 words down, another 1800 to go. Well, that's the upper limit, anyway. I need to come up with at least another 1300 to be legal. I've never had to write an essay of this length before. It's interesting having all that extra room to move around in.

Baking

Tomorrow, the draft writing samples that I handed in last Monday get worked over by my writing workshop. It has become a group tradition to sweeten the other members with a nice afternoon tea when it's your turn to get comments, so I did some baking with intent to impress.
The chocolate cake went well - it's hard to go wrong with cake mix.
The gingernuts were more problematical. Overall, they were overcooked and not rolled out thinly enough, so are destined for the rubbish bin. The reason for that was the mixture not being sticky enough, which is probably because the golden syrup was added last, instead of creamed in with the butter and sugar. The reason for that, is because I was loth to use the only source of golden syrup in the house, and only added it as a last resort.

Me: So, you're absolutely definitely sure that this is golden syrup.
Norman: That's right, golden syrup and food colouring.
Me: And you're not secretly a vampire or anything?
Norman: No, no. Of course not.
[Some time later]
Me: Would you like to try the first biscuit?
[Checks for growth of fangs]

I had to dip into Norman's fake blood supply. It's very disturbing rolling biscuits out of red dough. Also, it stains your hands, which is even more disturbing.

Come to think of it, I used baking powder instead of baking soda, which might have been bad, also.

From The City To The Sea...

Well and so. Today, I bused down to the Beehive, met up with repton_infinity and walked home. Most of this was off-road, as someone in the Wellington City Council has percipiently observed that many of the parks in the central city are closely connected, and cannily provided a map to the walking tracks of same. (And put up some handy posts with mysterious looking yellow arrows as markers.)

And now I'm home. Phew, that was a long walk. Interestingly, I'm tired and sore, but not as much as I expected. I wonder how stiff I'll be tomorrow. Also, repton_infinity, who is lovely, has gone to collect fish & chips for dinner. Bliss.

For those who are interested in statistics:
Total time: 3 hours 18 minutes
Total distance: ~ 9km
Time to Te Aro: 1 hour 10 minutes
Distance to Te Aro: ~ 4.25 km
Time to Home: 1 hour 48 minutes
Distance to Home: ~ 4.75 km
Max Elevation: 130m (Top of the Botanical Gardens)
Secondary Max Elevations: 100m (Central Park and Macalister Park/Kingston)
Points of Interest: Beehive, Bolton St Cemetery, Botanical Gardens, Kelburn Park & University, Mount St Cemetery, Tanera Park, Central Park, Prince of Wales Park, Scottish Harrier's Hall, what looked like a sports stadium but neither of us were sure what it's called (EDIT: it turns out that it's boringly named Rugby League Park), Macalister Park, My House.
Point Where We Got Lost: The Scottish Harrier's Hall where the sign was a little misleading and we ended up on the road near Pearce St. Fortunately there was another track down the hill to Hutchison Road and we matched up again.
The Bit We Didn't Do: From My House to Island Bay. We've actually done that walk before, finding that one can do rather a lot of walking from just down the hill below My House to just up the hill from My House.
The Walk John Wants To Do Next: The Skyline Walk, ~ 15km.
The Walk I Want To Do Next: From John's House to the Brooklyn Windmill, estimated time ~ 1 hour
The Thing John Hasn't Noticed Yet: My hair is 8 inches shorter than the last time he saw me.

Dinner is here! Must go...

I Can Always Tell That Spring Is Here

Because I start to wake up earlier than usual from all the extra light in the mornings. Daylight Savings is on its way.

Sleeplessly yours,

Stephanie

It's Friday, And My Colleagues Don't Have Enough Work To Do...

Currently they've built a 9 high tower of coke and beer cans on the filing cabinet and are throwing a frisbee at it. Their aim stinks. The best they've managed so far is knocking two cans off the top. Dearie dearie me. Maybe I should move out of the firing lanes...

In other news, I've spent a week in Auckland beavering away and actually managed to solve something. Sort of. Also, I'm -
OK, they finally knocked it down with a resounding crash, I'm glad I don't have to clean it up -
nauseatingly well rested and prone to waking up at 6 in the morning. I put this down to the fact that my hosts (the lovely Donald and Tanja) who are often a hive of social activity have had a fairly quiet week, so we're all going to bed quite early. (The hive is on hold for various reasons, including a frequent guest acquiring a new boyfriend, another buggering off to Scotland, and Tanja being dewisdomised yesterday.) As strange as it feels to be awake and chirpy at 6.30 in the morning, I can only say that it's a mug's game and I want nothing of it. Well, OK, maybe a little of it. Still, I like that dozy warm feeling you get in the morning when you're all snuggly and don't have to get up quite yet. Particularly if there's company...

In other other news, I was one of the GMs for a Mordavia day game on Wednesday - I spent most of it in the spiral stair case having private conversations with players. There's something about those player plots, they take a while to get moving, but once they're going they have an awful lot of momentum. ;-) Also, Adam gave me a ride there on his shiny yellow Triumph motorcycle, and it is a sad fact that it took me most of Thursday morning to find someone I could brag to who would realise how incredibly cool that was. (Like a Kourier from Snow Crash letting someone hitch a ride on their skateboard, maybe.) Fortunately, my boss who's on a school camping trip near Ruapehu checked his email that morning and was able to make appropriate Ooh and Aah noises.

Anyway, back to Wellington on Sunday. I should probably get some work done...

Commonplace Book

Of Truth
"What is truth?" said jesting Pilate; and would not stay for an answer. Certainly there be that delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix a belief; affecting free will in thinking, as well as in acting. And though the sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain discoursing wits, which are of the same veins, through there be not so much blood in them as was in those of the ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and labor which men take in finding out of truth; nor again, that when it is found, it imposeth upon men's thoughts, that doth bring lies in favor; but a natural though corrupt love of the lie itself.

Bacon, Francis, "Of Truth" in ENGL308 Renaissance Literature Coursebook, Wellington: Victoria University of Wellington, 2006, p37.

Chu Chu Trains

It's the end of an era; the train service from Auckland to Wellington is shutting down at the end of September. According to Toll Holding's (the train service's) spokesperson Sue Foley, it's due to falling passenger numbers: "The reality is, people talk about rail, they love rail, but unfortunately, not many people use rail." Yet I can't help thinking that Toll Holdings have brought this on themselves. That train is notoriously late and unreliable, particularly in summer. They have problems with derailments and keeping their tracks repaired, meaning that passengers can find themselves loaded onto buses for part or all of the trip, which rather takes away the point of travelling by train in the first place, and to top it all off, the tickets are expensive. I'll also add that except for my recent trip on the Overlander, where the train manager was cheerful and very helpful, the staff have tended to be downright surly, which doesn't particularly work as a selling point.
Anyway, all this is a real pity, because I like travelling by train, despite TranzScenic's best efforts to stop me. Bother them.

Update

Because I realised I haven't posted for a while.

I am well except for this stupid two and a half week cough, which today I went to see a doctor about. He gave me some pills, which I suppose is the point of doctors. Also, I got my ears syringed, which is a very odd sensation, and since then a lot of sounds have been both louder and much crisper, like the sounds of the keys as I'm typing right now, for instance. I wonder how long I'll notice the difference for. What I'm also thinking about is the fascination we have with the gross bits of our own bodies - I made a point of checking out the huge lumps of wax pulled out of my ears; several years ago when my Mum had abdominable surgery she got great joy showing people pictures of her insides despite all protestations to the contrary; people who've had appendices removed sometimes keep them in jars on mantelpieces... Why do we care so much?

I've been trying to learn basic Greek - the modern kind I mean, which Victoria University doesn't teach, although it has a thriving department for the 2000 year old variety. So far I've been watching some video tapes called "The Greek Language and People", but the only word I can remember when I'm not watching the video sounds something like "parakalos" (thank you), so I'm not entirely sure how much good this is going to do me.

Also, today I got some new stripy pyjamas because my old stripy pyjamas have developed a whole in one knee and you can't have that.

Hooray For Being An Unemployed Bum

Well, not that I'm actually unemployed, just that I've finished up my holiday job, and I have the rest of the day to enjoy it.

Things that have been happening lately:
-I went to a Haunted House. It was very noisy, with lots of heart pumping frights along the way. I find it interesting, though, banging things and blood spatters will give me a fright, but for true serious fear it's generally the quiet psychological getting-into-your-imagination that really creeps me out. There are some photos.
-I went to a leftover party at Malcolm, Judy, Gordon and Lisa's house. The food and company were lovely, as always. Then we climbed Mt Albert. I can remember back when I thought that that was a big serious hill...
-I've been having royally awful computer problems all week, which is why it's taken me until Friday to clear out my workload. Grrrrrr.
-I went to see the new Pirates of the Carribean movie with John on Monday. Premieres are interesting. On the one hand, they decorate the theatre and have actors dressed up as pirates having fights, clambering out on ropes, and generally haranguing the audience. On the other hand, you have to hang out in Very Long Queues and then sit in the theatre staring at a blank screen for half an hour before the movie starts. The movie itself was great, lots of sustained and well executed silliness, combining gorgeous stunt scenes, well timed acting, photo realistic CGI and the ever pressing question of "Will Keira Knightly get to kiss Johnny Depp?" I loved it.
-I went to a frisbee training session on Wednesday which involved teaching us the basics of speed mechanics. It was lots of fun, and now I have sore muscles in unusual places in my legs.
-I have worked out the precise cutoff temperature at which Babe will cease to be a hunched up miserable cold feline, and start being a lolling relaxed happy warm cat. It's 16.5 degrees. The pair of us have been hanging out in my room for most of the previous three days because it was easier to heat, and the new clock that Cat gave me happens to have a thermometer on it. It was fascinating watching the change that half a degree in air temperature can make on my cat.
-It's nice and sunny today. I think I'm going to go have a walk.

Randomness

Right now I'm staying in a hotel that's exactly my size. The bed is just the right length for me, the shower head barely clears my head, there is precisely one piece of paper in the handy folder, which is good, because I had to leave a note about the power to the kitchen area having shorted out. (I haven't had a cup of tea this morning. I won't get one until midday because the water is off in the building I'm working in. The pain!) So it all kind of works, but I wouldn't want to be John's or Morgan's height and staying there. The problem is that I can't remember the name of the ogre who had an Inn and stretched or shrank people to fit it, or this post would have had a much more interesting title.

On Monday, I went to see a chick flick called Just My Luck. It's a workable example of its genre, although no real surprises. I think that Serendipity, with a similar premise, did a far classier job of setting up elaborate coincidences and making them work. Still, it reminds me that the genre of Romantic Comedy, one of the most contrived around, gets most of its entertainment value from the secondary characters - the two leads have too many restrictions on what their characters can be like.

Georgette Heyer is back in print. :-D She, too, writes highly contrived romances, and they're a lot of fun. She's noticable for using a lot of Regency slang which I can only assume is correct, because most of the phrases she uses I've only read in her books, but I will add for your consideration, gentle readers, the phrase "I must have returned" which is a genuine period phrasing because the more sophisticated verb phrase "I would have had to return" or even "I should have had to return" had not yet been invented. I also note that she makes the distinction between the "will" of volition and the "shall" of obligation. ENGL224 is a course that rocks!

The computer program I'm working on is giving me some results that I don't understand. This is very frustrating.

Take care, all.

EDIT: And in other, happy, news, NeonGraal has trumped the rash of Aucklanders recently announcing that they're pregnant by announcing his engagement. Many congratulations and felicitations.

AND ANOTHER EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT TO SAY BEFORE:
One of the pleasures of staying in a hotel is being able to bum around in your underwear entirely free of worry about wandering flatmates, neighbours or random visiting vicars seeing that which they ought not while you're making yourself a nice hot cup of tea. This is only a good idea, however, if the fire alarm doesn't go off.

$^@#^%$#%&

I am Not having a Good Day.
Maybe if I sell my first-born child to Murphy he'll back off a little...

How Things Change...

So I'm up in Auckland for a couple of weeks pretending to be an engineer again, and I'm struck by how things are changing around me. We have a new boss, Lee Finniear, whom I got to meet for the first time today (he seems a nice bloke), but there are also other bits and pieces like people moving and shops closing that I think everyone who lives here takes more in their stride because they happen so gradually. For instance, this really cool cafe called Alleuia has changed it's tables. This makes me sad, in a petty kind of way, because it was the tables that I liked most about the place - they were all mismatched and sanded down rescuees from second hand furniture shops and they were, well, cool. Except someone decided that they wanted posh shiny tables now and an essential part of the place's laid back atmosphere has dissapeared. And it's not particularly important, but once again I'm reminded that you can't ever freeze a place (or a person) in crystal and expect them to be exactly the same when you come back as when you left.

No More Exams For Me...

La la la.
(Well, for this term, anyway.)

I also got confirmation of the site that I'm going to study in Greece: Eleusis, otherwise known as that place wot Theseus came from in The King Must Die. I guess I'm going to have to do some more serious reading than an historical adventure novel. ;-) (Although, the lists of sites says that I'm sharing the site, but doesn't say with whom I'm sharing it. Go figure.)

EDIT:
And now I'm back at home having my first cup of tea since 7am this morning. O Tea, how I love thee, let me count the ways...
I spent the afternoon bouncing around the campus (and town) playing Change-Of-Course Hopscotch and making sure that Babe has enough food for while I'm away. On the plus side, this meant some interesting conversations with Robert Easting and Matthew Trundle about a) travelling through Greece and b) what courses are good to take for an easy A. Matthew thought that Salient should run an article on the latter, but declined to comment on his picks for the shortlist. Probably wise of him.

EDIT^2:
Ah, the irony. I was putting off getting changes signed off in the hopes that I'd be accepted into CREW255 and could do it all in one fell swoop. I had to give up on that idea, eventually, because the professor running the Greek Field Trip was complaining about people not setting up their enrolments properly. What just arrived? My acceptance into CREW255. (Which, incidentally, I'm very happy about.)

On Studying...

Study continues apace. I've now finished rereading Love's Labours Lost, and I'm starting on the "Song of Songs" from the Authorized Version of the Bible, which has steamy bits. For instance, from Chapter II:

9 My beloued is like a Roe, or a yong Hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh foorth at the window, shewing himself through the lattesse.
10 My beloued spake, and said vnto me, Rise vp, my Loue, my faire one, and come away.
11 For loe, the winter is past, the raine is ouer, and gone.
12 The flowers appeare on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree putteth foorth her greene figs, and the vines with the tender grape giue a good smell. Arise, my loue, my faire one, and come away.
14 O my doue! that art in the clefts of the rocke, in the secret places of the staires: let me see thy countenance, let me heare thy voice, for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
15 Take vs the foxes, the litle foxes, that spoile the vines: for our vines haue tender grapes.
16 My beloued is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lillies.
17 Vntill the day breake, and the shadowes flee away: turne my beloued and be thou like a Roe, or a yong Hart, vpon the mountaines of Bether.

Reynolds (ed.), "Song of Songs", Authorized Version in ENGL224 Texts 2, Wellington: Victoria University of Wellington, 2006, p124.

It's Cold

And I have a very rare enthusiasm for household chores. Chop kindling? Sure. Wash dishes? You got it. It's the best way to keep warm. I should probably do something about cleaning out the bathroom, but I guess that will depend on what the rest of the afternoon is like...

In which I talk about my family.

I spent the past weekend in Waikanae visiting Gran. This actually means visiting Gran, an uncle, two aunts, a random assortment of dogs and whichever cousins happen to be floating around that weekend. My mother's side of the family tends to be tall, extraverted, sporty, and a wee bit daft. Many are, or have been, teachers. (1) (I always find myself emotionally reverting to an awkward, gawky thirteen year old when I'm around them, alas, which is frustrating, because they're all lovely, just a bit intimidating when encountered en masse.) My father's side of the family, in contrast, are less tall, relatively strait-laced, still interested in sport, far more introverted, and used to run to churchmen. (2) That last changed when my grandfather Herbert Edward, in Oxford training to be a priest, woke up one morning and realised that he didn't believe a word of it, and ran away to Egypt to be an engineer. He somehow ended up in Rhodesia as a schoolmaster, and they've run to teachers since. But anyway, this is talking about a visit to my mother's mother, who lives in Waikanae, and the random pieces of information I learned there and the random activities I did there.
- Michael has a new girlfriend, Sarah, who was brought up for inspection that weekend. She seems quite nice, is from Hampshire, was a lawyer, but is thinking of taking up primary school teaching. She likes skydiving, which is where she met Mike.
- David has a new girlfriend, Jane (?), who was brought up for inspection last weekend. I think she's something to do with the NZSO, but the details came from Gran, who is about to be 88 and is having short-term memory issues right now.
- I watched a rugby game yesterday. Apparently it was quite an important game, or something. Anyway, I lost the family sweepstake on the scores - a dollar I'll never see again...
- Michael has been accepted into the new intake of firemen and is going to Rotorua for training, thence to Auckland for his new post.
- Helen is studying for a golf referee's certificate.
- Mum and her husband John (3) are off on a cruise somewhere. I don't think she actually said where, but she's been very bouncy about it.
- Barbara's dog Jazz took me for a walk out on the beach on Saturday. This was fine while she was interested in catching a tennis ball, but when she got bored she neatly deposited it at my feet and took off home, pausing only to occasionally laugh at me and roll in smelly stuff.
- On Sunday I took myself for a walk out on the beach, which went much better. The end result of all this walking is that now that I'm back home in Wellington, all I really want to do is sleep. Am trying to stay awake until this evening so that I don't jetlag myself.
- Gran's eyesight and hearing are going, and she feels the cold very easily. :-/ (She spent much of last evening looking out blankets, hot water bottles and heaters for me. I woke up at midnight sweating from the heat.)
- Gran has a copy of The Apple of my Eye, a travelogue of New York by Helene Hanff which I hadn't read before. I highly recommend it.
- Grandad Pegg (the Herbert Edward who ran off to be an engineer), was so loved when he came over to NZ on a visit that the Hutt Men's Club had a special dinner to see him off. Gran Pegg, in contrast, remains in Gran Hay's memory as an 'old tartar'.
- My Great Grandfather West (Gran's father), died the day of a general election, having made such a huge fuss about wanting to vote that Gran had to arrange for an invigilator (or whatever you call them) to visit his nursing home, which time all the little old ladies decided that they would rather like to vote too, and it took all afternoon, much to the matron's disgust. (It made them miss their afternoon tea.) When Gran asked him who he voted for, he said "That's my business", rolled over and went to sleep and didn't wake up, never having found out if the side he wanted to win, won. (Next election, remember to vote, kiddies.)
- My Great-Great Grandmother West was in Napier during the 1931 earthquake. Great-Granddad had to go and fetch her because her house slid halfway down Bluff Hill and she had to live in the Hutt with his family for the next five years. She was apparently not best pleased about this. My Great Uncle Jack used to refer to her as 'the witch in the kitchen'. (I talked to Gran quite a lot, this weekend.)

Confused yet?

(1) The exceptions being Mum, me, and my sisters, except for the teaching and being a bit daft part. Yes, even my older sister Alexandra has a streak of eccentricity, although I think she'd die before admitting to it. [waves Hi to Alex]
(2) The exceptions being my cousin Jot who is an extravert's extravert, and my father, who was an eccentric's eccentric.
(3) As opposed to John, my ex-defacto-step-dad, and John, my boyfriend. I had a lot of fun explaining the multiplicities of Johns to my sign language teacher when we did the module on family relationships. He took it in his stride.

Edited to add: Whakapapa? What whakapapa? :-)

Review: in a fishbone church

A while ago, I complained bitterly about how bleak New Zealand books were. Someone (Morgan) suggested that I try Catherine Chidgey as being somewhat less dour, so when I saw a book by her in the Uni bookshop I decided to give her a try out.

Well, to be honest, the book is still pretty dark. It's written in a style (that seems to be popular with the literati set) of structuring the narrative as a mosaic - there are continual filmic cuts between characters and timeframes without many cues to the reader to help them adjust to the changes. I posit that cinema cuts are easier to cope with in cinema because the visuals can get more information through quickly than the linear word-by-word info stream of a novel. On the other hand, my experience of in a fishbone church (and Baby No-Eyes, Patricia Grace and Below, Tim Corballis) is that of a very complete all-encompassing experience, so maybe one of the points of this style of writing is to approach the wider info-stream available to films. I still find the style very tiring to read, though. In all three of the books I've mentioned there's no real centre of mass to get to grips with, nor is there an ending that provides much closure, they just go on and on and then stop (1). I also find that I need to pay a lot of attention - small details that appear in passing in the beginning of the books are referred to with much more context near the end.

Of the three, they're all uncomfortable in terms of content. Baby No-Eyes is right up there as a counter-discursive, 'writing back' kind of book; Below seems to exist primarily in order to torture the reader; and in a fishbone church is more subtle, but still disquieting, I think because of the continued threat implied into domestic situations: hair combs that scrape bone, eating swans full of shotgun pellets, being nearly drowned in a bath, and so forth. I'm going to change my opinion that this darkness is somehow endemic to NZ writers, however, I think that it's more part of the desire to be perceived as a 'serious' and 'literary' writer. As an inveterate reader of science fiction and fantasy, I find I still like having a nice solid story to get into, rather than having to understand the psychology of the characters from every conceivable angle. Also, because these novels are all set in situations that are potentially real, there are few sources of external conflict so the authors need to provide internal psychological tension in order to have something worth writing about (2).

My overall verdict? Interesting, but I think I'm going to slope off back to genre fiction for a while.

(1) To adapt a quote from the movie Amadeus: "You don't even finish your songs with a bang so that the audience knows when to clap."
(2) The exception being Baby No-Eyes which includes a major land demonstration.

Frisbee

So we just had an incredibly hardout, incredibly fun game in which we drew against Not 2 Serious, who are not only at the top of the league, but have only previously lost one game this season. So not only am I feeling extremely pleased with myself, but I'm still so hyper my hands are shaking.

Way to go, guys!

Existential Angst

So I had this odd feeling yesterday afternoon - "Must Study" which was very weird because I didn't have anything I needed to study for. By some strange plot of the University, two of my courses are now complete - I had final tests for them yesterday morning, a third is virtually complete - the last assignment is going pretty well, and I only have one exam to study for, which isn't for two weeks. So to all those students who are currently rushed off their feet - I feel somehow that I should be one of you, but I'm not, and it was making me jittery.

All better this morning, though. :-)