Apparently, I Write Like A Boy.

One of the internet widgets I've recently found is the Gender Genie, which implements an algorithm tracking keywords that are, according to the creator, indicative of gender.

Blog posts, essays, fiction... only one of them thought I was at all girlie, and that was a retelling of Sir Gawain in not at all colloquial English. I wonder what it would think if I wrote a short story about barbie dolls...

I've been tagged by a Commonplace Book meme...

As per Mark's instructions, , quoting from the book that's nearest to hand right now, p123, sentences 5, 6 and 7.
She looked then to Ukiah, curled in the rental car's backseat. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine, Sam. I just want to go to sleep."

which isn't very interesting. Personally, I liked this bit better:

Sam picked up her coffee. "What I would love is a picture of Ukiah's father, so I know all the players."
   Max looked at Ukiah, puzzled.
   "Rennie," Ukiah said. "Indigo says he flew into Portland yesterday."
   "Oh, shit! That's the last thing we needed!" Max pulled out his PDA and played with it for a few moments. "Here. This is him."
   Sam viewed the picture a moment, sipping her coffee, and then suddenly spit it all back out. "This is the FBI Most Wanted list!"
   "Yes, it is." Max reached for his PDA. "I don't have any other picture of Shaw."
   Sam leaned out of reach, scrolling down through the entry. "Wanted for arson, assault with a deadly weapon, auto theft, burglary ...kidnapping...manslaughter...murder - oh my god, you weren't kidding! He is a homicidal lunatic! And he's coming here?"
   "See, I'm not the only one he has that effect on," Max said to Ukiah.
   "He's not that bad," Ukiah said meekly. "Once you get to know him"
pp142-3.

Wen Spencer, Tainted Trail, New York: New American Library, 2002.

And I tag Starfire and Repton Infinity, because I think there'll be some interesting stuff coming out of their libraries.

That's a quote from your physically nearest book, p123, sentences 4, 5 and 6, and because that isn't necessarily the most interesting bit, I'm adding "plus the extract of your choice" to the list. :-)

On Health, Part Two

I'm back from surgery, which actually went pretty well. The worst part so far has been trying to find a liquid I can keep down as I'm the statistically 1 in 50 whom morphine makes really nauseous. I've been stuffed full of anti-emetics, am wearing Cat's motion-sickness acupressure wrist bands, and was given a unit of saline via intravenous drip when the recovery room nurses got worried about how dehydrated I was getting. I also have the most appalling cotton mouth, which made trying to eat a piece of toast an interestingly unpleasant affair. Also, I'm feeling very spaced and tired, but that's entirely normal. And for the record, all the nursing and surgical staff were very friendly, even the specialist who scared the heck out of me last time around.

On the plus side, I don't have endometriosis, which the surgery today was supposed to find out, but does beg the question of why do I get the aches and pains I've been having. More tests are probably on the way, but I decline to worry about that now.

And a Happy Valentine's Day to John who has reminded me that come the 26th of February we'll have been going out for an entire year. Gosh, time really does fly. (And no, to answer your question, I'm still not sick of you. ;-))

Oops

Last night I edited some old posts and I've just discovered that this means the LJ feed has vomited out a lot of them. Sorry.

On Language Learning

So, this trimester I'm signed up for the 300-level Old English course. Since I haven't taken the 200-level Old English course that is its prerequisite I have the next two weeks (plus this past week) to pick up enough vocabulary and grammar to not totally drown in the class. (1) It's mostly going OK, but I'm noticing a certain trend in the example sentences. See, whoever wrote the 200 study guide really wasn't interested in whether Horatia snatched the food off the table and ate it greedily, or even where the pen of my aunt is. Let's see some examples:

- Hi woldon stelan Pa mathmas. (2) -> They wished to steal the treasures. (3)
- Pa weras ferdon hergiende and sleande. -> The men went devastating and slaying.
- God aelmihtig is ealra hlaforda hlaford. -> God almighty is lord of lords.
- Hinguar Pa leode of-slog, weras and wif and Pa unwittigan cild. -> Hinguar killed the people, men and women and the innocent children.
- ...and hine swungon langlice mid swipum. -> ...and flogged him with whips for a long time.

There's also the continuing saga about Where the Head Is. Somehow I think that when I get to translating actual texts there's going to be a certain preoccupation in the subject matter.

(1) I meant to start earlier, but was rather distracted by writing my site essay and that whole earning a living thing.
(2) P is being used for 'thorn', th for 'eth.'
(3) Anyone wishing to correct my translations is entirely welcome. :-)

Arrgh!

JSTOR
I can't believe I spent two years at Vic without knowing about this site. It has scans of Journal articles. Lots of them, including several that I personally pursued into the bowels of the Uni library looking for. That's dust, poor air conditioning, and big shelves that you have to move with a winder and look like they're about to Squash you, folks.

Dammit. 8 months ago I asked the librarian at the Information Desk about journal databases and the only one he knew about was the National Library's one, which is lovely, but exceedingly poor on Classics.

(Thanks for telling me about it, Naomi.)

On the plus side...

I'm finished! Huzzah! No more site essay for me! It's even printed. :-)

The only downside is that it's Sunday and I can't hand the bally thing in straight away before I have a chance to change my mind about something.

On Health

I have a good GP. One of the reasons I know this is because when I wander into his office to wail about whatever happens to be wrong with me, I can confidentally expect that he'll ask me how my study is going, how the trip to Greece was, things about my social life, in fact, the things you'd expect someone you know quite well to ask. Since I hate going to see doctors, this cuts down a lot on my intimidation and fear-of-incredibly-personal-questions issues. Does the good doctor have a super dooper memory that retains small talk from every patient he's met ever? Probably not, but he does keep copious notes. I've seen them, whilst peering over the man's shoulder.

One of the items written down a little over a year ago was from when I was explaining exactly why I hated being on the pill. I had mood swings up to my ears - happy sad happy happy Sad - and in my peering I found out that the doctor-speak for that is 'emotionally labile.' That's a good phrase. It's a good way to describe how I feel right now, bouncing with joy about how good life is right now (and life is very good), then suddenly wanting to cry, and then just as quickly being happy again. I think this sucks, and wish I could level out some, or even better, get to stay at the happy level All the Time.

There is one thing I'm worried about. On Monday, I have a preop appointment with a different doctor who is very busy and not nearly so nice, and on Wednesday the week after I'm scheduled for day surgery. All of this post is actually linked. The surgery is to investigate why I've been having horrible periods, the first step in the process being, over a year ago, to stick me on the pill to see if that changed anything. It did. It made things a lot worse. Stupid body.

Also, while all this is supposed to be routine, I find I've watched far too many hospital TV shows in which things go horribly wrong, and I have far too good an imagination for my peace of mind. Bother it all.

Did I mention that I hate seeing doctors?

When The Zombies Rise...

The house will look much as it does now. There was a Phoenix party here on Saturday that I'd completely forgotten about and there's still detritus lying about. I should really do some tidying...

It left a poor impression for Mark, our former flatmate-who-went-up-to-Auckland-for-a-fortnight-and-ended-up-staying-for-nearly-a-year-but-is-now-visiting-us-for-a-week-while-he-observes-some-tidy-up-sound-recording-for-the-movie-he's-just-finished-editing-which-I've-forgotten-the-name-of-or-I-would-link-to-it-in-IMDB. He's taking it all in his stride, I think and is very welcome, despite the fifteen minutes notice of his arrival we got from Norman-the-Landlord.

Also, many thanks to Mark-the-Latin-Teacher-Dude, who not only answered my question about the bit in Statius where Tydeus eats the head of his not-yet-dead enemy, but found an Illustrative Picture in the process.



And finally, I have had my Zombie Movie Cherry popped. Yes, I finally watched Shaun of the Dead. Everyone who told me to watch it, yes, you were right. It's a very funny movie and a zombie flick, all at the same time.

I can hear muffled shouting from outside my room. Maybe Norman and Fraser are pleased to see Mark. Or...
Night all.

Reflections

I can remember this time last year, quite well actually.

There was Kapcon, and the free concerts in the Botanical Gardens, and lovely summer weather, and playing frisbee in the park. It was also about the time that I was thinking that that John fellow was rather lovely and wishing that he'd notice me.

I also met Morgue right about now, and read his rant on the problems involved in trying to maintain plausible deniability about whether you liked someone or not. It took me a while to follow his advice, but it all worked out rather well in the end.

Thanks Morgue.

Not Poetry, This Time.

In television, what is the difference between a Soap Opera and a Drama?

I've been having a discussion with my flatmates on how to class Norman's favourite addiction, ER. I've always thought of it as a soap, because it's focusing on internal story lines between the characters, but Norman says it isn't, because it's not full of people wailing about having just married their brother by accident. Also, there was some discussion of overarching story lines.

What is the actual distinction? Was Babylon 5 a soap?

Yet more poetry...

Because if people are going to have interesting conversations in comments to your posts, you might as well memorialise it. :-)

Psyche to Eros

Do you think of me then, waiting on the rock?
It was cold – the wind bellied my red mantle, embroidered
with suns and wheels and dandelions. Their
warmth was only pictures; my bare feet bled
on the ragged stones. From the dark hills cold glints
of trumpets bid farewell: they were leaving me, though
my mother had clung like lichen clings, had wept
like water gushing from blank granite.
A beautiful sacrifice, I.

In this dark place – all softness, as a scrap
of thistle-down, as the fluff
of a wild-cat nursing kits – my eyes
are shut with your kisses, your murmuring
willow-voice all I hear. I drink you,
as night drinks blindness from a bowl.

Ah, love,
I dreamed that I married a falcon,
and slept in his feather-soft nest in the cliff
but I looked in his eyes,
sun-yellow,
and knowing me, he fled.

I might travel the hills to find that bird,
and cut my feet on the rocks,
and wear the wind for a mantle.
Until I see you,
you will never know.
--Cat Pegg

Commonplace Book

liberal
Consider this:
      A man who feels for the people.
      A friend to the ill-favoured.
      Never a word against the bar-
barians assuming Roman dress.

Reconcile this:
      A believer in man's potential.
      A voice raised against the games
      where human flesh is sport.
A man whose eyes fill at music.

You might at least concede:
      No man went hungry from my door.
      No woman was molested.
      No child was imposed on.
Humanitas inevitable as breath.

I who might have, have
      never raped, pillaged, extorted;
      abused office or position;
      concealed; interfered with art;
stood between any man and sunset.

And yet as you say,
      I have killed a god. I have made
      of impartiality, a farce.
      I have dabbled in chaos. I,
Pilate. Who vote as you do.
-- Vincent O'Sullivan

Vincent O'Sullivan, in An Anthology of New Zealand Poetry in English, (eds. Jenny Bornholdt, Gregory Brian, Mark Williams), (South Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1997), p228.

Because I Was Asked To Inflict Poetry...

Gilgamesh
There was a young king from Uruk
Whom Enkidu thought was a pillock
They fought a great war
And broke down a door
Then made mighty love on a hillock.
-- Cat Pegg

(Er, I think Catherine wrote it. She's certainly the person who told it to me...)

On Burglar Alarms...

The burglar alarm from the house two doors down went off earlier this afternoon, and did not turn off immediately thereafter in the classic "Oh poot, I forgot to punch in the code" fashion I'm more used to. I found out later that a couple of neighbours also heard it and independently went to check things out, but I was very unheroic and called the police instead. They were prompt, friendly and efficient, a credit to the New Zealand Police Force.

(What happened is that the lady who lives there had hired a minion-for-the-day from Student Job Search, left the garage open so that the minion could access tools, and forgotten to give him the alarm code, so it was actually an entirely innocuous alarm. The policeman I talked to said that it's always best to call in these situations, though, just in case.)

One Day at Tourney...

This weekend I shall be at the Grail of Chivalry World Invitational Jousting Tournament. It will be Very Cool. In fact, I shall be there with bells on. (When I agreed to be part of the entertainment, nobody said anything about the bells.)

It's open to the public for $5 a pop. If you're interested, or would just like to go out to the park on a nice sunny (I hope) day, come right along.

On New Year's Day I Muse on the Incongruity of Wearing a Winter Coat and Gloves...

I understand from Neil Gaiman's blog that the weather in North America is unseasonally warm. Give us back our summer, damn your eyes!!!

Happy New Year.

EDIT: I have changed from Old Blogger to New Blogger. This means that the RSS feed into LJ has temporarily gone haywire, sorry for spamming you guys with old posts.

On Travel...

First off, I was not in this: 7 in Head On Collision despite being in that region of highway at the operative time. ReptonInfinity and I got to the queue of stalled cars, watched three police cars, two fire engines and a pair of ambulances go by and decided to take the alternate route, which was to go back to Waikanae and head off into the wilds of New Zealand mountains on the Akatarawa Rd. This is extremely narrow and twisty and long, and on the course of the drive Repton came to tell me the story of his one time in detention as a worked example of why taking the route that is longer may be more time consuming but also more interesting. From the timestamp on this article, however, (only quarter of an hour before we got home) in which they still hadn't cleared a lane for traffic, I think we made the right choice. Actually, it wasn't too bad a drive, we were early adopters of the alternate route so proceeded as Mother Ducks to a very long queue of cars.

My best wishes to the people in the car crash and their families. As flippant as my above post is, I know that this is a very difficult time for you.

I'm Back

Hi all,

This is just to say that I've arrived safely. There's not much to say about the flights home apart from: they were long. At Bangkok, I could have seized the opportunity to see a strange, exciting and vibrant city, but instead concluded that I was fed up with crowds and hung around the airport for 14 hours. The people who did go said that they had a really interesting time, although they were rather confused when the taxi driver led them up a narrow stair, past a large number of men staring at them, and presented them with a tailor who said he could make fitted clothes for them and deliver them to the airport before they flew out.

I'm a new fan of homeopathic jetlag pills. I'm feeling astonishingly good, compared to other long haul flights of my experience, a little bit spacy right now, but not as bad as a cold, and I could work or sit an exam if I had to. ReptonInfinity came to the airport to meet me off the plane, and showed a gentlemanly enthusiasm for helping me stay awake yesterday evening, as well as taking me out for a long walk in the sun this morning. Have I mentioned lately what a lovely guy John is?

By the Way...

I should have mentioned this before, but Mark, one of our lecturers has been posting photos in his blog, if anyone is interested. I have photos, but I won't be putting them up until I get home.