On Thursday we got a kitten. We'd done the grown up thing and decided to get an adult cat as we didn't know that we could look after a kitten, as they need more love and attention than an adult cat, but the neighbor of one of our friends found a tiny kitten in a warehouse and couldn't look after it. So now we have a 6 week old ball off fluff who ignores the name Kerfuffle. At the moment she is sitting on my windowsill gazing out at the outside world.
It's been a bit manic since then - not only have we had a new kitten in the house, but we've had 4 extra people staying her for the last 4 days, and on monday night 4 more come for graduation. It's a good job that my family live close enough to do a day trip otherwise we'd have to find beds for 8 people.
It's fun though, and I am graduating on Wednesday, and then working for a year with a teaching agency and then doing a PGCE in Religious Education in York starting in 2009.
1. Sitting in the sun with friends and food.
2. Dark pubs with real fires and folk music
3. Lines in songs that make me smile, or think, or make the whole room sing and laugh.
4. Being nice to people unexpectantly.
5. My mum cleaning the fridge in our new house.
6. Walking on a warm evening.
7. Playing with friends children.
8. Planning fun stuff in our new house.
9. Cooking elaborate meals.
10. Playing in the park in the middle of the night.
Well, I've now officially finished uni and have been trying to get a job without much success. But things are good.
I've applied for a PGCE in York, to teach religious studies at secondary level. I'm moving into a new house, have painted my room and am in the process of getting enough bookcases to hold all my books. We've got a garden full of vegetables, and some strawberries and a couple of raspberry plants, along with tomatoes, courgette, beans, peas and various other things. Oh, and peppers on the kitchen windowsill.
I'm still living with the same people, but we've moved out of the student area to near a large park, about 30 mins walk from the city center. It should be good.
I've printed it out, and am taking it to be bound today.
I've applied for the job I'm going for (should hear whether I'm shortlisted in the next week).
I've even made a short list of photos for photography - found 15 out of over 300, and only need to cut three of them.
So why aren't I happy and bouncy and full of yays?
At the moment I'm terrified, and incredibly nervous. I don't have any reason to be, my next deadline is the 29th, and as long as I have 12 images I'm sorted. I need to decide an order, and do a bit more cutting and sticking and work in photoshop, but I'm not panicing about getting the work done. My exam is on the 19th May, so plenty of time to learn/revise, so I'm not panicing about that either. I'm panicing about something much much bigger, my life, my degree rests on stuff that I'm about to hand in/emailed in on Sunday.
I have a plan b if the job falls through, wonderful friends who I'll have to leave behind and move to a new city that I lived in as a child.
It's so uncertain, and new, and scary.
And I want to hide in bed and watch reruns of buffy.
Word Count : 13544 excluding bibliography and footnotes. That's 1500 words under the maximum word limit.
Pages : 42 including Bibliography
References : 114
So, I'm currently a bit proud of myself. I could hand it in as is, but want to do more work on the introduction, although i don't really know what else to write. It's only 400 words long at the moment, and very brief, but I'm not sure what else to add to it. My next challenge is photography - I'm way behind on my visual journal, and other things. I need to do a major cutting and sticking session tomorrow, and then lock myself in the digital arts center for as long as possible, and aim to get the 8 photos I'm planning on using into a hand in able situation. Then I need to take about 3 memory cards full to get the remaining 4 images.
I've decided that I hate finals. With a passionate vengence.
I'm not even thinking about my exam, I don't know the date therefore it's not happening. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
I graduate on the 15th July - but I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up....
Remember I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I felt alone politically on the ship?
Well, part of that feeling has involved not mentioning my political views, because I don't want to paint a target on myself. Well, now there is a whole thread of target painting.
What I didn't mention in my last post is that my dissertation tutor is away at the moment. She returns two days before the deadline. She is apparently contactable by email though...
So, after a meeting with the undergraduate director for peace studies, I emailed her. On Monday. She hasn't replied. Today's job includes going into the department, finding someone, and holding them hostage until they help me*.
I've done the mini introductions and conclusions, and most of the spelling, and sorted out where the numbers for the foot notes should go in relation to the punctuation...and just about done the conclusion. But I'm still struggling on the introduction. Oh, and some guidence as to whether the thing is even vauglly good.
Meanwhile, I've been procrastinating. I went to the worlds most amazing camera shop, and they sorted me out with a macro photography set up for cheap by fitting a cannon to some obsucre lens adaptor ring, so my camera now takes m 42 lenses. Or any other lenses for that matter, as it's just a case of getting the right ring. I also have a reverser ring, so I can take photos through a 50mm lens put backwards on the camera. And a rather nice 165mm/f2 portrait lens, which is beautiful. The best thing about the shop was that they weren't trying to up sell me - they tempted me with things and then said "no, play with what you've got, then come back." Which I think is a bit unfair, as I now want what I can't have. Anyway, if you're interested in finding out the name/where this places is...email me.
*Discalimer: This isn't really my plan, if the news breaks that this has happened, it's not me, it's not my fault. I didn't do it.
Well, the vast majority of the text is written, and has been commented upon. I'm now at 12060 words, with a minimum limit of 12000, so only have met the word count.
My current dissertation 'to-do' list is
*write the introduction
*finish the conclusion
*write short introductions and conclusions to each chapter
*check spelling
*mend references
*add page numbers
*mend bibliography
The deadline is the 17th April, and I'm hoping to get the first three bits done before the 10th, leaving me with a week to tidy up the damn thing.
My today job is the short introductions and conclusions to each chapter. Each word I write makes me die a little inside, it seems pathetic and childish to write "This is what I'm going to do, this is why I'm going to do it" at the start of every chapter. I really that if a chapter is titled "The Palestine Israel Conflict, and starts with the first Aliya in the 1880s, then it's not a massive leap in reasoning to realise that the chapter is a basic history of the Palestine Israel Conflict. Similally, the chapter titled "Theories about Reconciliation" is a chapter examining theories about reconciliation.
My other problem is what do you put in an introduction? And a conclusion for that matter...'tis all very confusing...At the moment my conclusion is 356 words long, and I've pretty much ran out of things to say. I've just got about five paragraphs, one sumerising each chapter, and one summery of the whole thing. I'm sure that's wrong somehow.
The whole bloody thing makes me want to scream.
In other news, I'm going to see the Terracotta Army on Friday with my family.
Today I have spent twelve hours on a coach and three at Aldermaston, a nuclear base near Reading. Aside from bumping into tractor girl, the day was pretty much a bog standard demo. It was uber fluffy, with no direct action (not even walking on the road to get the gates...), plenty of speeches and little in the way of action. It's odd, I'm not used to that kind of thing anymore, there was a time when I'd be looking forward to it, be excited, spend time planning, making costumes and generally getting into the spirit of things...but not today.
I could blame it on the dissertation, or illness, but I think there is more to it than that. On the bus on the way down I felt very alienated, a feeling that wasn't helped by the people behind me basically dissing everything that I believe in, and being fundamentalist liberals (the usual "people who don't boycott Israel should be shot", "Christianity is evil and repressive", "The middle classes are evil" crap). I almost got off the bus at Leeds, in fact I did, I got about 10 meters away before I turned and got back on the bus. My only real friend on the bus joined a group dressing up as Maggie Thatcher and the miners, and I felt even more left out...I was beginning to wish I hadn't come. Then I got off the bus.
At first, I thought that a random person had seen my housemate, because I wasn't expecting to see anyone at the demo, but then I realised that it was Tractor Girl. And I was very happy. On the coach I commented that part of why I loved going on these demos was seeing my friends again, the sense of belonging and companionship that I felt when I was part of a group was missing from this demo. But thanks to a happy coincidence, it was a fantastic day.
For the last few years, I've felt that I was drifting away from the ship. Last Wightmeet was the realisation of this feeling, I've changed as a person in the last five years, and most of the changes have been from a fairly shy, conventional person to a significantly more confident and radical person. I don't feel I have many friends on the ship who I can identify with politically, and to a lesser extent spirituality. I doubt there are many Christian Anarchists on the ship...Tractor Girl is one of the few who I feel comfortable talking to about faith and action (so comfortable that I did my best to corrupt Third Party...).
I've also decided that growing up sucks. I don't want to get a job, I don't want to move out of student accomodation into a real house, and I don't want to leave university.
So, I'm applying for a job. It's one I've wanted for a while, and I'm now sat with the application form. A few of the questions are quite difficult, and involve a bit of self censorship, so here is what I want to say...
How do you understand being ecumenical?
Sweetheart, I am ecumenical. I'm the living inbodyment of ecumenical. I'm confirmed as a Catholic and an Anglican, know the Methodist prayerbook by heart, go to a woolly liberal backslidden church that uses Iona liturgy and have taken communion in an Orthodox church, with the permission of the priest. Ecumenical is more than just appealing to the main denominations though, it's a process not possible on earth. In order to be truly ecumenical worship has to be just the right mix of disturbing and comfortable for everyone on earth, a feat very difficult this side of heaven. Ecumenical worship is an ideal, each effort takes us one step closer to this ideal, but it's unlikely we'll succeed. It's still worth trying though.
What do you understand by the phrase inclusive?
I live with a bi sexual polyamourous, gender queer atheist and zir (nominally) christian partner, who's also poly and gender queer, and a sexual. I now use the pronouns "ze" and "zir" without feeling odd, and am perfectly comfortable with all forms of sex, gender and sexuality. And vauglly understand the differences. But inclusivity is more than that, and inclusive church is a space for anyone marginalised by society, it's about safety and shelter for vulnerable, and challenge to the comfortable, it's about trust and learning to cope with negative societal views. It's not about rights and wrongs, the latest campaigns or buzz words, or providing a space for the depressed and the LGBTQ. It's much, much, much more radical than that, inclusivity is never safe, never static, and always involves a risk. Inclusivity is about a BNP counciller sitting and praying next to an Anarchist.
And living with the discomfort that brings.
Because the handin date for the first draft of my dissertation is looming ever closer, I decided that today would be a good day to take a friends little girl out for a while. So me, another friend of mine (J) and 8 month old A went to Leeds for a day of geeky shopping and giving mummy a break. It was fantastic!
A was an angel - she didn't fuss, or cry very much at all - just when I put her in the buggy, and she squaked in frustration a bit when I kept moving sharp or hot things out of her reach. She spent about an hour in a cafe with us, sitting up in a highchair and eating bits of cucumber and some sort of mushed up carrot thing whilst we ate chinese buffet and tried to keep her from grabbing it off our plates. It was just a fantastic day.
Plus, I brought the new Angel comic and got to read it on the train on the way back as J was holding the baby - there were two plot twists that I did not expect, and one (the main one) that I wasn't that fussed with. But two deeply cool characters are back! I also got some cushion pads and will have to start to make stuff to sell at a craft fair I'm doing next wednesday.
It seems that everything else is so much more fun than writing my dissertation. Of which the end is in sight - I'm 800 words into chapter 4 which is meant to be my last chapter - my word count for this chapter is 3000 so it's getting there!
Awww, stuff it...Stargate Atlanis is much more interesting than the peace efforts in the middle east...
I have 40 years of history to write. It's not even that much, just 1800 words - I should be able to do that easily, but my brain is mush. And I'm ill, and I'm exhusted. I need some energy and some inspiration...And a TARDIS.
If I had a TARDIS I could have as many ill days as I want, and then zap back in time and hand it in on the due date. I'm sure that's breaking the First Law of Time, but I don't really care. It would be much more fun. Plus, I'd also have a Doctor...which would be FANTASTIC!
Word Count :
Chapter 2 - 1711 out of 3000
Mood : Slightly less terror
Music :Vaious Folky Stuff
Energy Levels :7/10
Mice : Several (I asume)
Cats : 2 (one is sat on my desk purring at me as I type)
After a few weeks trying, we've finally managed to borrow 2 cats - Bunny and Marble (or Anubis and Jolinar). It's fantastic, they are lovely, have settled in our house amazingly well and are generally fantastic to have around and have not helped our work levels at all. I have, however, found out that I can type very easily with a cat sat between me and the keyboard.
The cats are long haired pedigrees that were rescued and lived as barge cats for a while until their owners moved into a house and had kids. After this the cats got a bit neglected, and seem to be enjoying the peace and quiet of our house. They are so friendly and lovely balls of fluff. R doesn't like them very much though, and insists on calling them fleabag1 and fleabag2. The rest of us love them.
Although a problem may develope as we broke our front door, and will have to hide the cats from the landlord when he comes and fixes it.
Word Count : Chapter 1 - 1198 out of 3000
Chapter 2 - 974 out of 3000
Mood: Sheer terror
Music: None at the moment.
Energy Levels : 6/10
Mice : At least one in my bedroom, none in the kitchen (as far as we know)
Food Stash : 2 satsumas, a punnet of grapes, 2 tunnocks teacakes, a bag of choclate buttons and 2 cans. All in a sealed metal tin.
I'm currently not in my room becuase of the mice, so am sat in G's old room, with a pile of my stuff in here - the mice keep eating my stuff, so I've moved it in to the mice free room, but am stranded between two rooms. I just want the buggers to LEAVE so that I can go back to my room and procrastinate with my stuff around me.
Word Count : 851 (out of 15 000)
Mood : Dull Panic
Music : A playlist entitled "Songs to play at checkpoints" that I created in Palestine. Currently "It is not Holy" by Martin John Nicholls.
Energy Levels : 4/10
Rant: I guess it's all stuff I need to get used too, but I'm finding it almost impossible to work at the moment. I just don't have the concentration. Whilst doing random stuff (lying in bed, eating breakfast) I had fantastically relevant thoughts about how I should write this first chapter, and I just wnated to get on with it. After about 40 mins of research I'm exhausted, jittery, my eyes are achey and I've lost the little energy I have. I don't know if this is normal or not, I don't really know anything...I don't know how much of this is just normal procrastination and how much is PVFS. I do know that my tolerance to television is significantly lower than it was. If I'm exhausted I just lie in a dark, silent room. Yesterday I did it for 4 hours. I was aware of things that were happening, Helen coming up stairs, a male voice downstairs, people going to the toilet, Rich asking me if I wanted food...Stuff like that so I don't think I slept - in fact I know I didn't because I slept well last night. It's just frustrating, and very, very demoralising. I got really, really upset a couple of weeks ago because I couldn't go to Boyes to get some wool. All I wanted was to knit a doctor who scarf with 'fuck-off thick wool', but I couldn't get up to town. Yesterdays crash was triggered by me going to ASDA by bus. I did a minimal of walking, and only spent abot 2 hours out, but combining it with Church was enough to knock me out.
I'm now going to try and go swimming...I'm not sure how it'll work..but I'm gonna walk to uni, pick up some stuff, and then go get lunch, then swim.
Ok, first up I'm a geek (as can easily be seen from my buffy/doctor who/H2G2/stargate posters and my hellishly complex dalek gloves). Second up, I'm the kind of geek who sees it as a personal insult when the flim is completely different to the book. So, when I went to see the "Golden Compass" I expected to come out muttering and cursing, in fact, even the small clips on whatever news show I watched about a week ago had me and my housemate simultaneously yelling "It's not a compass! It's an alethiometer." Despite this, I wasn't really expecting the major changes to the film that were actually made.
The removal of the church as the big bad was annoying. Understandable due the fact it is an American film, and they didn't want to piss off the fundies, religion isn't mentioned - the concept of Original Sin which is key to the understanding of the Dust in the first book (from Dust thou were created, to Dust thou shall submit) is completely missing, as is the Witches prophecy of Lyra as the second Eve. All of which are key to the events in the third book.
As it stands, it will only be possible to film the third book if you explain all most of the references in it - Billy's death being the trigger for Lyra's journey to the other world, the battle between the angels and the church, the death of god.
The issue of betrayal isn't even mentioned - one of the key scenes, where the Master of Jordan college poisons the Tokay is twisted, and the Magestarium is responsible. And, to cap it all, despite a wonderful scene where Lyra finds out that she will be taking Lord Asreal what he needs, they never get there, Lyra isn't betrayed, deamons aren't sevred, bridges aren't made and Lyra doesn't walk accross the birdge to another world.
There were any number of other little niggles I had with it - the order was changed, somethings that were explained in the book were not explained in the film, and the wrong questions were aske - but those are the major ones.
As a film it was beatuiful, many of the characters were spot on - Lyra, John Faa, Serefina Pekela, all perfect...the CGI was stunning, the effects amazing. It was richly decorated, and generally a beautiful film - but unfortunaly I'm one of those annoying people that thinks that if you're going to make a film of a book, then you should follow the damn book as closely as possible.
My first though is to create a support system. Which is rather difficult. I live in a house with 4 other people, one of whom is not around at the moment and one works all day which leaves 2 people. One of them does loads of stuff with the university and the other has the bad habit of making many, many jobs for himself (and putting off the ones he needs to do like applying for the job). And the best bit is that they all read this blog...so I may be being bitchy by typing this, but I could do with working it out, so sorry if i offend anyone.
My therapist (who has friends with CFS/ME) has given me a load of tips - the most useful one is that anything - including typing, knitting, doing the washing up uses energy...and i should take a step back and let other people do it. Which would be fine, but a) I like knitting and cooking and b) I start feeling all icky when I use the kitchen if the washing up hasn't been done and have a much lower washing up tolerance level than most people in the house...so they don't do it as often as I like.
The support system is mostly for practical things - like picking things up from uni, or the post office...that kinda thing.
I'm so aware I'm overdoing it, but I don't know how to stop...I guess i've taken on the roll of mummy in the house and i'm worried if I don't do things they won't get done (and not being mean, but if I've gone away no one has done the shopping if I don't....)
So I have to slow down. I really really do.
Yesterday I got up at about 11, rested for an hour, went to subway for lunch, came back, rested, went down stairs to boil some potatoes, found the washing up hadn't been done, did it, went to tescos (by car), made tea, rested, knitted a sock, felt exhusted, rested, slept
And somewhere in all that (around about the washing up) I suddenly got exhusted.
And it makes me feel incredibly pathetic. But by the same token I know that I can't carry on with that level of activity - and if I do i won't get better.
So i now have two managment techniques I need to put into practice - paceing and graded excercise.
As far as I understand it, pacing is basically stopping before you get tired, so if you are resting, rest for 45 mins, potter for 15, and if you are doing something, do it for 45 mins, and rest for 15. Which seems sensible, and I think I'll manage.
Graded exercise is more difficult, and I need to find out more about it. I think the basic theory is that I find out what level of energy i have, and then do something each day (eg walking to town) and on a good day, stop at that, and on a bad day push myself to that.
The problem I have is that some days I have things to do and if I try to add that in aswell I'll get exhusted. Although thinking about it walking to town and getting the bus back is the same amount of walking as walking to uni and back, or to the doctors and back...so that might work. I don't know.
This is all much more stressful than I imagined. I thought it would be easier if i had a diagnosis, but now all i really, really, really need to do is slow down.
Well, after a hellish and harrowing few days I went to the doctors on Monday to find out that all of the blood tests that were taken a week ago were negative, and after a fairly long appointment I left with a shiny new illness - post viral syndrom.
Unfortunatly, it's not curable. The doctor thinks that it will go away by itself in a few months, but for that to happen I have to rest up. I don't mean stop doing everything, just pace myself and not do too much. Which is REALLY REALLY annoying if you are me. I'm not good at resting, I proved this when I sprained my ankle...
If I'm honest I'm really worried about uni - I have a dissertation and a portfolio that I should be writing, and I'm completely lacking in energy/exhuasted and it's really worrying me. I know I'll work through it...I have this far...but it's still annoying. And if I'm honest quite upsetting and scary - my body keeps on giving up on me and I don't know what to do about it...
I'm ill. I've had a bad cold for well over a month, but that's not it. I have no energy whatsoever - an example, I spent yesterday relaxing because I was going to a Paul Cornell talk in the evening (which was absolutely fantastic) I left home about 4.40 and got back at 11 which was 5 or six hours, which thinking about it is quite a long time...but still...Today I woke up at 12 and just about got to art therapy where I spent the whole hour crying because I was so exhusted I didn't have the energy to do ANYTHING. And now I'm shattered. All I want to do is sleep but I've got a movement article to write and have first aid in 2 hours anyway.
I'm sure I'm not doing too much - I have one day out at church, two nights at first aid and one lecture a week - that's all and I'm spending every day exhusted. And although I keep telling myself that it's not affecting work it is. The fact I have 24 hours to write an article shows that it is.
The worst think is that it's not depression. I'm feeling fine in a mental health way, just absolutely exhusted. All I want to do is sleep. I was talking bout this with my therapist today and she was concerned it might be ME or CFS - she was very careful not to mention the names until I did, but she encouraged me to nag the doctor and said that something seemed to be wrong with my body.
So I've got another doctors appointment on Friday. Third one in 2 weeks. GRRRRRR.
I'm ill. I have been ill for the past month and it's now getting really annoying. I've made an appointment with the doctor for tommorrow but I doubt they will do anything.
I'm scanning facebook. Trying to keep my brain and hands occupied, trying not to cry and I came accross a discussion entitled "Before you start to self-injure". It has a list of things, a list of ways that that one little scratch will spiral out of control and take over your whole life. Long sleved t-shirts in the heat of summer, never going swimming, rubbing scars through you clothes...so, so many things. And in the same face book group was the question - does it ever go away? Does it ever stop? And my answer is no. I've done this for too long for it to go away.
A little girl pointed to a scab on my elbow today - and asked me what it was. It wasn't a self harm scar, I got it after running and diving onto the road to glue my hands together for peace...but somehow it felt the same. The same as when a little boy I took swimming asked that question, poking the strangly parallel scars on my arm. And now I'm sat staring at the sharps I keep hidden for moments like this. And I'm thinking and thinking and thinking, and I can't get my brain to stop.
And mixed in with all of this is the fact that I went swimming today. With a tiny little girl - 14 weeks old. It was her first time in a swimming pool and she loved it, and she trusted me completely. And if I cut again I won't be able to do that again for months, and I want to do it again. And I'm trying to be logical about this. Trying to be grown up and mature, trying to be normal. But I'm not normal. I have mental health problems and all ways will have - even if I'm getting better.
I know I'm used to this, but sometimes it just gets me down. And recently I've been having graphic nightmares/daydreams of self injury. And it's so hard to resist and be strong. But I'll keep on trying. It's what I do.
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