5 Things About Thursday, 18th October 2012: Creature of Habit Edition

• I decided today that it was time to revive a good habit I used to have, so since this morning I'm the proud possessor of a tiny, spiral bound, pocket notebook. Mainly it's for a list of books that sound interesting, and websites which have proved (or promised) to be. Should the occasional Grand Idea fall in there too then that would be a good thing. I had one of these that I carried around for years, and slowly filled with interesting author names and book titles I saw reviewed, or heard about, or even saw in a bookshop but had neither the will or lucre to buy at the time. Then whenever I went shopping I would whip it out and have pocket sized inspiration.
• There is something so gratifying about low tech stationery. Ring bindings. Pages that are feint ruled (and preferably faint ruled, also). Pencil sharpeners. Compasses. Stuff.
• I bought my usual 10 trip bus pass during my lunchtime wanderings today, and the guy in the ticket booth has developed a new party trick. As soon as he sees me coming he proudly produces my regular pass with a flourish and a ta! da! smile. Kinda sweet, kinda friendly, kinda... akward, especially given that this is the same guy that once shamed me into wasting money on too many single tickets instead of a 10 trip pass.
• However, for a brief second I've sometimes considered buying some other other odd, probably unusable ticket, just to show I'm not predictable.
• I am not a person who should have nice things. For the second time in my life I have lost my mobile phone, and both times involving taxis and both times the phone has disappeared without a trace. Thankfully it was only a prepaid, but still this is a particularly crap habit to get into.

Fabulous Baker Boys

I have a new obsession. I've become addicted to an English show from BBC2, "The Great British Bake Off". It's a sort of Masterchef idea, however all of the cooking challenges are related to baking. It's not on tv here so I've been watching streamed on Tube+. (It does seem to come and go a bit, the other day the show disappeared from the site altogether, only to reappear.)

The format includes Technical Challenges, where they are all given a recipe and have to replicate it for a blind judging. It also includes Signature Bakes, where they present their own recipes on a given theme, and Show Stoppers which are spectacular set pieces. Baking is an exact science as well as an art, so the contestants are allowed to refer to their own recipes, and I gather they are vetted somehow to ensure they are not just cooking something from a book by Nigella.

This show is kind of adorable, and so well mannered. All the contestants are unique characters, and so terribly polite. This is not the cut and thrust of normal competitive reality tv. (One of the contestants is even a Vicar's wife!) The hosts Sue Perkins (of "Supersizers Go...") and Mel Giedroyc are both comedians and keep the show light and fun, while woofy 'silverback' chef Paul Hollywood and British baking legend Mary Berry bring lifetimes of technical nous.

But the boys. Oh the boys. I'm a total sucker for a sweet British lad, and this show has a trio of them.

James, tall Scottish cutie who plays double bass, loves a Fair Isle knitted vest, bakes like a man with the skills of someone twice his age (he's 21!), and blushes furiously whenever he is complimented. They slayed me when they showed him walking his two dogs along the Scottish seaside. If only he had a kilt on, then I would have fallen down dead. Completely.

Stuart. Oh Stuart, Stuart, Stuart. PE teacher, rugby player Stuart. I have several fantasies involving muddy rugby kit, a locker room and a beautifully made Treacle Tart for afters. Enough said.

John. Shy, tall, cutie John. John (and possibly James) might be the gays of the competition, but then I'm only speculating. John seems like a 'nice lad' as my mother would say. Self deprecating, a bit shy seeming, a bit serious, and very well mannered. Quite adorable really.

Sweet, sexy boys and cake. What's not to love?

Funk & Fabulousity

I have been a lifelong fan of all things aromatic. Fabulous fragrances. Pretty perfumes. Once upon a time (in a galaxy, well, you know) I even worked in the industry, as a Fragrance and Cosmetics Buyer for a retail chain. Yes, on the short list of Gayest Jobs Ever.

The combination of a bit of extra discretionary income recently, and some exciting and challenging times in the fragrance industry (the rise of exciting indie perfumers, and the tarnishing and cheapening of many classic old fragrances, in part due to drastic allergen rules being introduced, for a start) have stoked the smouldering incense embers of my old obsession. Also with the rise of internet shopping, a medium not conducive to the smell testing of fragrances, many retailers and manufacturers have introduced affordable sampling programs. For small cost you can sample a whol range of new and interesting 

I've also bought a whole bunch of fragrance ingredients recently, with a plan to playing around and making some of my own fragrances. If that works out, I might even try and sell them through www.etsy.com, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Developing a fragrance is a long, complicated process.

So, I bow to present my new endeavour: You Smell MARVELLOUS. Come on over and let's get our stink on.

Manly Beach Clean Up

On Saturday, Martin and I joined a large number of fellow volunteers to help clean up Manly Beach, organised by the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society and the Two Hands Project. Rubbish from all of Sydney's beaches eventually finds its way into the water, and carried on the currents is dispersed into the ocean and can have a disastrous affect on marine life. 

Sorting the rubbish for recycling

It was a gorgeous warm early Spring day, sunny but not so hot that spending a few hours on the beach was unpleasant. At first glance the beach looked pretty clean, but we collected a surprisingly large amount of rubbish. Our main focus was plastics and other toxic forms of polluting rubbish, such as cigarette butts.

One of the Sea Shepherd team

Sydneysiders love their beaches, and use them a lot. While I was collecting rubbish on the beach it was really encouraging to have a number of people say "good on you" or "thanks". Clearly people care for their beach and are glad to see people taking care of it. There is no good excuse for littering any beach, especially the metropolitan beaches of Sydney which are very well supplied with rubbish bins.

Recyclables being separated

Hopefully one of the offshoots of any sort of action such as this is that next time any of the people who saw us cleaning up on that day use the beach, they might be more careful about not leaving any rubbish behind.

One of the Two Hands Project team

We were asked to collect for one hour, and then we returned with our buckets of rubbish to have them sorted into recyclables and general rubbish. There were some speeches made, and a substantial donation that had been collected through facebook was given to the crew from The Sea Shepherd.

Around half of the volunteer crew

Afterwards Martin and I joined a few of the other volunteers for a light lunch, before hopping back on a ferry and making our way back into the city. All in all a truly fantastic day!

Pull Up to My Bumper Bay-bay!

I moved house back in March, and since then I've been on a mission to put a little style and utility into my new place. A little more storage. A couple of cool bedside lamps. So Marty and I set out on this cool, windy, Sunday morning to have a look at some furniture and lighting stores.

Long story short, I didn't really didn't really find anything I wanted to plonk down any cash on. We saw ugly cheap furniture. We saw ugly expensive furniture. We saw beautiful expensive furniture. Yup. Oh, and we also spotted about 40% of all the gay couples in Sydney who were also on the hunt.

After a couple of hours we decided to head home, and then...

Just a few minutes from home, and while we were waiting at the lights, we were rear ended in a 3 car pile-up. Fortunately everyone walked away unscathed. In fact Marty and I barely showed any affects all except for a nasty surprise. The single mum with 3 kids in the car who caused the accident was badly shaken, although she and the kids were fine. (The youngest slept right through everything, unbelievably.) Unfortunately she's uninsured, and the car is almost definitely a write-off. The lady driving the middle car was very badly shaken up and her car was pretty much totalled.

The tow truck drivers arrived in half the time of the police (doesn't that always happen?), and once the (handsome!!) police had asked Marty a few questions we were free to go. It looked like Marty's car escaped almost undamaged, but he messaged me a while back to say that the boot isn't closing smoothly, and it looks like a seam has parted where the roof meets the chassis. Worst case scenario is that the chassis has been bent, but Marty is going to wait until the police get back in contact with him with the details, and then he'll get it checked out properly.

So, car accident #4 for me. I'm just grateful that Marty is ok, and everyone else also.  It's not clear what insurance will cover and what it won't, so I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But most importantly tonight I'm just giving thanks that everyone is ok.

As Time Goes By

We've got some catching up to do, you and I. How have you been? Well, I hope. Happy. Fulfilled. Content.

Wait, hey have you lost weight?

So let me clear the air and say sorry for being gone so long. The past 9 months have been a bit of a rollercoaster. Scary at times, but thankfully more exhilarating than anything else. Lots of change, and lots of positive outcomes.

First off, Peter and I broke up. In fact we're still friends and he will always have a place in my heart. I saw him a few weeks back and he's doing well.

Then just a few weeks after we broke up (New Year's Eve, to be precise) I met a wonderful man, Martin. We met on a crowded dancefloor, but even though Martin didn't realise it at the time, it wasn't the first time we'd met. I'm friends with his older brother, and I also once chatted to him one drunken night at a pub. (I choose not to dwell on the fact that he doesn't remember, after all he was the drunken one that drunken night.) At the time we met I knew Martin was cute, funny, sweet and sexy... but what I didn't know was that he would steal my heart. Which he has, completely.

Martin and I, on a late night ghost tour.

In March I had to move out of the little cottage in Newtown that I'd lived in for 10 years, as the owners were returning to Australia and had decided to sell. (Which in the end, they didn't. But by then I had moved on anyway.) Cue a stressful search for somewhere else to live, populated with yucky houses, big rents, long queues of other prospective tenants and a very supportive boyfriend who was happy to drive me around, and listen to my kvetching and hand wringing. (I already told you he was sweet, right?)

After a chance conversation with a bunch of old photography buddies I hadn't seen for a while, I found out that one of them owned an apartment he was about to rent out. I was initially hesitant, it was a lot more than I was previously paying and a bit further out than my beloved Newtown. We took it, we moved, and it has been an absolute joy. Light. Spacious. Modern. Warm through the winter we are just finishing, and with a large balcony overlooking the city, and a large terrace on another side, it has enough outdoor space to make it feel less like a run of the mill apartment and more like a little penthouse. Spring is around the corner, and I can't wait to put the outdoors to full use.

Lastly, my work situation has changed for the better. I'm no longer contracting, but I'm now on a 12 month contract direct with the university I've been working at for the past 18 months. The plan is for it to be permanent, but for reasons to complicated to explain it was easiest to put me on a 12 month contract first. I still get all the leave and other entitlements that permanent staff get, and at the end of this year it will still count towards my long service leave etc. Oh, and a nice big chunk of change was added to my salary. Sick leave! Holiday pay! It's like a real grown-up job and everything.

That brings us up to the current day. Martin and I were away visiting my sisters a few weekends ago, and not only did we have a fabulous time but I now suspect they actually like him more than me. (Kidding!... mostly.) I've just gotten over a dose of bronchitis, the cold part of which Martin is now dealing with. But that's a minor annoyance.

I'm happy. I'm healthy (now). I'm in love, and loved in return. I have a nice roof over my head, and a few extra dollars in my pocket.

Actually, things are pretty great. :-)

A Colourful Walk

The recent wet and cool weather suddenly turned to bright, sunny, late Spring over the weekend. I spent almost all of the day out in the sunshine with Peter yesterday, either walking in the sun or sitting outside with a cheeky lunchtime white wine with Peter and his friend Kai. Glorious.

What happens Sunday to Tuesday?

So I grabbed my camera this morning and decided to enjoy the continuing sunshine and walk into work. (And work off a bit of the food and drink excesses of the weekend.) I changed my usual route a little and along the way spotted some street art I hadn't seen before.

Smoko break.

The curious wizards of the Bureau of Meteorology have read the entrails, cast the stones, and forecast yet more rain and cool weather later in the week. Bah. Until then I think I might make the best of it and see if I can't try a different route each morning, and see what else I can find.

5 Things About Friday, 25th November 2011: Blood Crazed Zombies of Newtown Edition

• Technically this is about last night, not today, but I stopped to grab a take away burrito last night and I must have made a tiny cut in my lip with the foil wrapping. Ever cut your lip? They bleed like crazy! There's nothing quite like the feeling of realising people in the street are looking aghast at you, only to discover blood dripping all down your chin. Sorry residents of Newtown, rumours that the zompocalypse has begun are overstated!
  
• Speaking of zombies, my sleep problems have plumbed the depths of horribleness this past week. Numerous wake-ups throughout the night have left me feeling like a zombie. I was mildly offended the other night when Peter made a comment about my low energy levels, but I have to admit that he's right. Time to go back on the super strong meds I used to take methinks. Boo! I hated those expensive, nausea inducing little tablets. Nausea, empty wallet and possible liver damage Vs low energy zombiedom. It's my Sophie's Choice.
  
• Today I read in the news that we've been treated to just 45 minutes of sunshine this entire week. This is LATE SPRING. Summer is but a cooee away! There should be children and puppies gambolling in the sunshine. Hotties lying on the beaches. This should be shorts weather. But no, Sydney has been plunged back into cool days (fair play, it's not eactly COLD) and torrential rain. Whoever is responsible, fix it.
  
• Maybe I have Seasonal Affective Disorder? SAD. I haz a SAD!
  
• On the upside (and lest you think mention of said burrito would infer otherwise) I actually dropped a bit more weight this week. Once I got to around the -13.5kgs point a month or two ago I sort of took my eye off the ball a bit, and relaxed my attitudes to food. What was really reassuring was that I haven't gained any weight at all since then. So the past few days I've generally been a bit more disciplined, burrito breakout nothwithstanding, and as of this morning I passed the -14kgs mark. Woohoo!

Summer Nights With Vincent

It's been a few years since I deliberately planned and treated myself to a good summer read. A book made for reading in a park, or sitting in my courtyard on a warm early evening, or even for reading in bed on the too hot nights when I can't sleep and the ceiling fan just isn't cutting it. Something interesting, preferably weighty and a bit challenging, and maybe something I've promised myself to read for a while. A book with gravitas, or at least some eccentricity.

I'm not much of a beach goer, so not for me the slim, trashy, beach read. (It's an important distinction.)

I seem to gravitate towards art books and biographies as summer reads. Once, many years ago, when I was on what should have been a short work assignment in monsoonal, tropical Cairns, I ended being stuck there for 7 weeks. I was feeling lonely and frustrated, and after finding what was (at that time anyway, I'm not sure now) the inner city of Cairns's only interesting little bookshop, I consoled myself with a spending spree on summer reads. I read about the life of Gertrude Stein. Then I read her "autobiography" of her "tricky, dicky darling" Alice B. Toklas. I rubbed shoulders with Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin Round Table, before finishing up with Bloomsbury's own "house of lions", Vanessa Bell, Duncan Grant et al.

My memories of that time are an incongrous blend of Parisian/English/New York smart sets saying smart things in smart drawing rooms, torrential tropical rains, and hours spent lounging by the hotel pool reading during the all too infrequent breaks in the rain.


A while back I read an article about a new Vincent Van Gogh biography that was coming out based on new research, and which promised to be "the definitive" work on his life and death. Just the sort of thing for a summer read! I had recently signed up with a co-op bookshop that offers substantial discounts to members (after a small one-off membership fee), and a quick search of their website showed they had this book at $45.00, rather than the regular ticket price of $59.95.


So now I have it. Even the heft of it says summer read. It's thick. It's hardcover, which has been nicely wrapped in clear plastic by the bookstore (so as to protect from any summer evening sweaty hands or glass of rose accidents, no doubt). It has illustrations. All in all it looks just the ticket.

Homemade Space(ships)

Sometimes it's hard to figure out how you end up where you are. And I don't mean that in the naval-gazing larger-scheme-of-things sense, but in a metaphor free literal sense. On the interwebs specifically. Link leads to link and suddenly you're in some unexpected side road off the great information super-highway.

I'm a bit of an architecture nerd, and being home from work today with a raw sore throat I spent some of the afternoon looking at interesting architecture that is a bit left of the mainstream. I started by reading about the fantastic re:START project in Christchurch, New Zealand. A pop up shopping precinct made from shipping containers which is reinvigorating the earthquake devastated centre of the city, but now sadly faces a lawsuit.

Shipping container architecture in a round about way (so round about that I doubt I could retrace those steps) lead to the "small home" movement. People who choose to live in tiny, often self made, homes. Including one enterprising 16 year old who is building his own tiny mobile house. And when these people talk about tiny houses, they mean tiny, to whit:



More interweb meandering from the poster of the clip above lead me to an interesting website called *faircompanies. Which is essentially an aggregator of clips, blogs and news stories with a theme of sustainable living.

Now I like my creature comforts, but on one level I would love to have the mobility to take off and explore the world. This video introduced me to Kyle and Jeannie, two nomadic artists who built their own simple little trailer and have been exploring the US since. Their trailer is quite basic, and as they put it is more like camping in a tent than being in a caravan. (They also have a charming blog and sell their handmade wares via their etsy store.)

Kyle and Jeannie are doing their travels in a much more rustic way than I think I could cope with. In spirit though they remind me a little bit of Lucie and Lachlan of The Vagabond Adventures. Sadly their blog is now no longer really being updated (as they are back in England running their business The Vagabond Van), but I loved reading about their adventures in Africa with their dog Bow Wow.

An afternoon of wandering the interwebs, that lead to nomadic adventures of a different sort.

5 Things About Friday, 4th November 2011: The Power of Tools Edition

• I was awake and ready to leave home quite early this morning, so I walked around to a nearby cafe and bought a muffin and a cup of coffee, and lingered over them at a picnic table in an adjacent park. An excellent way to start the day, although I could have happily sat there for much more of the morning and skipped the whole 'going to work' thing entirely.
  
• I used to do the big Samurai (hai, yah!!) Sudoku puzzles from the weekend papers quite regularly, so with pencil in hand I sat down on the bus to knock one over rated Easy. Easy, like hell. Maybe I've somehow lost my sudoku chops through attrition, but the thing is sitting in my bag still quietly judging me. I choose to believe they mislabelled it, actually.
  
• For some reason I felt inspired to buy a paper journal today. Not the lined Dear Diary style journal (with dinky easy-to-jimmy-open lock), but one full of neat little crisp, white, A5, ready to be written/drawn/pasted upon pages. A visual diary made by both Messrs Windsor and Newton. There's been a bit of a lack of creativity in my life of late, and I'm thinking I might give keeping an art journal a go.
  
• Not that I need any encouragement to loiter in a stationery store, slack jawed, ready to spend a fortune on all of the Precious Things. Thankfully what the university campus store lacks in range it makes up for in reasonable prices.
  
• After work plans today include swinging by KMart to buy a cordless drill. My first power tool! (Quelle butch.) Time to fully dismantle and chuck out the old beaten up outdoor table in my courtyard, in preparation for the warmer Spring/Summer weather. (Which may or may not happen, the way things are going I'm not fully convinced. It's been a cool, wet Spring so far.)

Relief

The curious lump in my chest that has been consuming so much of my attention the past couple of weeks turns out to be a not very common, but completely benign, fatty lump. Not even a cyst. Simon, the very sweet ultrasound technician, was prompt in telling me that it certainly wasn't cancer. Then he showed me on the monitor exactly what it looked like. To be honest I could scarcely tell one grey bit from another grey bit, but once Simon said "It's not cancer" he could have been playing a rerun of "I Love Lucy" on the monitor for all I knew.

So yay. On the way home I bought a pig out dinner of some good porcini mushroom pasta, pesto, good parmesan, and a yummy bar of good dark chocolate. Tonight we live a little.

Little Treats

Due to a mix up by the medical centre my (anxiously awaited) ultrasound appointment this afternoon is now actually happening tomorrow afternoon. Only a small mix up on their part, but another day of waiting to put my mind at rest. I was initially frustrated, but then by the time I left work it was almost weirdly a bit like being let off the hook for the afternoon.

So I decided to try and not worry about it and instead enjoy the Spring sunshine by taking a stroll along King St on the way home. The stroll became a bit of bookshop window shopping, then an early bite to eat of a yummy falafel at Sabbaba, and some further strolling nibbling an achingly sweet, delicious, rose scented chunk of Turkish Delight.

Not that I won't be glad to get this damn lump checked out, but if I have to wait and indulge myself in a bit of avoidance then sunshine and little treats are the way to do it.

Chopping Wood And Carrying Water

Today I was walking home from breakfast with Peter when I got caught in a light spring shower. Instead of putting my head down and making a run for cover, I decided to just enjoy the combination of the mild day, the sun, and the light rain and continue my stroll. I'm glad I did because I spotted these pretty flowers growing beside the footpath and decided to stop in the rain and take a few pics.


Time to stop and smell the flowers, or at least take a photo of them.

The past few weeks have been a bit up and down. Peter's work has been very stressful for him of late, and although we are going great there are times when stress creeps into the relationship. His shift work hasn't helped either as it leaves him struggling with tiredness and a lack of routine. My own sleep has been a bit up and down as well, with my old insomnia problem rearing its unwelcome head again. So just lately we seem to both be struggling with on and off bouts of crushing tiredness. Despite that we've still had some really fun times together, and even on the hardest days a sweet little text exchange will work wonders to lift the spirits.

I also started a new position at work and received confirmation that my contract has been extended until at least 31st March next year, which was fantastic news and means that I can plan a bit for the immediate future. However, for two weeks I was essentially trying to juggle training and starting my new position, with finishing a 5 week stint relieving in another position for someone who was on leave. As understanding as both my bosses were it meant I kept having to shift mental gears (as well as locations) several times during each day and it became surprisingly tiring.


Some days I've had to just "chop wood, carry water" as Peter would say. Just knuckle down and get on with what needs to be done. That may sound unduly negative, because I've also had some great times over the past few weeks; fun nights out with Peter, a friend's spectacular birthday party that I helped organise, dinners and drinks with new friends I've made through Peter, and some quiet nights in cuddling on the sofa. So there have been definite "ups".

Worst of all though I had a bit of a health scare recently too which made me anxious for a while. I found a roughly pea sized lump under my sternum, next to the edge of my ribcage. My forebrain was telling me not to worry and that it was probably just a cyst or something, but the darker recesses of my brain were going holy effing shit. I still have to go and have an ultrasound test done next Tuesday, but my doctor examined it very carefully and pointed out all the signs that say it's a cyst rather than anything worse. So I do feel relieved now that I've seen him, but I'll be much happier after the ultrasound when I have an answer as to exactly what it is. Exhaling a little easier.

(I debated with myself about whether to write about that until I have had the test done, but I figure I should just be upfront about everything that's going on. I really am convinced now that I have seen my doctor that it's nothing serious.)

By the middle of next week I should have positive news on the health front, and from Monday I only have one (enjoyable new) job role to perform. I'm going to work hard at resolving my sleep problems as best I can, including talking to my doctor about maybe even going back on my old treatment regime. So I fully expect this little rollercoaster ride to slow down pretty soon. Until then, time to chop wood and carry water, and smell the flowers along the way.

Taking Care

This weekend marked a couple of minor events that actually represent pretty big achievements for me. One was something I'd been working towards for a while, and the other was something that I had been avoiding for even longer.

Shortly after I started losing weight I decided to ditch my blood pressure and cholesterol medications, so that by the time I got down to my goal weight I could get them both retested and find my new natural levels. I'm still a kilo and a bit from my stated goal, but I decided it as time to get it done.

So I visited my new doctor Doogie John recently (who is both very sweet and about 12 years old, or so it would appear) and had a bunch of tests done. Given my family history I had poor expectations of my cholesterol levels, and even though they were much improved they were still bad enough for me to go back on the medications.

What I was pleased about though was that my blood pressure has gone from high back into the normal range. John was very complimentary, and said that he applauded the changes I had made to be proactive about my health. Frankly it was the pat on the back that I really needed, and I left with a big smile on my face and a sigh of relief. I have terrible family history when it comes to heart disease, and it was the realisation that I needed to try and avoid a similar fate to my father and all of his siblings that was one of the main impetus to start losing weight in the first place.

Secondly, something I have been putting off for a very long time... a visit to the dentist. It might sound like a trivial thing, but it was huge for me. I had very bad experiences as a teenager (4 rear molars pulled by a less than skilled dentist), and so as an adult my relationship to dentistry has been sporadic at best. I'm phobic. So making an appointment for Saturday and actually showing up were a big deal for me.

It wasn't so bad. Best of all my new dentist was very understanding, not at all interested in public shaming, and prone to placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I was cleaned, polished, x-rayed, rinsed and swilled, and left with the knowledge that while I have quite a bit more work to be done in the future, I would be ok with that. Yes the cost is daunting, but having just conquered that silly fear was quite a bonus.

So two fears put to bed, and most importantly two steps towards being more proactive about my future health. Two big steps for me.

5 Things About Wednesday, 5th October: Tumbling Edition

• In merrie olde England one of the most feared diseases was known as The Falling Sickness. Whilst I certainly don't have that, just lately I do seem to have caught the knack for falling down. Twice in the past few days I've taken a tumble, including falling UP the stairs at work this morning after misjudging a step. I saved the iPod but bashed a few fingertips (and my pride) in the process.
  
• Yes I did have a brief and appropriate earworm this morning of I'll Tumble For Ya by Culture Club.
  
• What age do you have to be before the word "fall" gains a capital letter? You go from having a fall, to having a Fall. I guess it's maybe less about age and more about consequences?
  
• It's only a short week this week, but I'm still celebrating hump day.
  
• I'm into the second week of a 5 week job change, relieving for an admin staff member who has gone on leave overseas. It's still technically part of my department, but I'm stationed in a different part of the university, at a different desk. Here's the thing, I hate the desk and chair set-up. Especially the tilt on the chair which some days makes my back a bit groany. So do I a) change everything to suit me and incur the potential gripes of the returning owner (a known curmudgeon), or b) tough it out? Which could be the lesser of the two evils?

The Power Of Words

Sorry for the short absence, amongst other things I lost my internet connection for 5 days. I can do a bit of web surfing at work, but whenever I'm home I normally have the laptop fired up while I'm watching the tv. Without it, oh em gee. Cut off! Is this what being on Survivor feels like? Without the poor hygiene, rice rations and scheming. I'd like an immunity necklace though. Tribal accessories, so hot right now. Sorry, where was I?

I spent some time over the past couple of days thinking about the power of words. Words can hurt and heal. Inspire and disempower.

Peter and I already have a whole list of cute names for each other. Yes, we are those people. A harsh word at work can make for a bad day. Recently Peter and I were walking down the street holding hands (as we usually do) when an older lady came up to us and told us we were a sweet couple, making our day with just a couple of kind words. (Mind you we've also had at least 3 occasions when Mumblers, as we've come to label them, walk past and mumble chicken shit insults at us as they pass. Here's a heads up Mumblers, enunciate.)

At this point, lets have some musical relief before passing on:

What are words worth? Indeed.

I'm also currently reading (and enjoying) Embassytown by China Miéville, a novel that places language and communication at the very centre of the story. I find Miéville one of the most incredibly creative writers working in science fiction today, and this book about Language uses language in a creative way to examine the dramatic and unexpected effects that communication can have. There is a fantastic review in The Guardian by science fiction heavy hitter Ursula K. Le Guin

(And if you have a moment, check out Miéville's tumblr too, where he posts all sorts of interesting stuff. Then spend a moment contemplating the fact that he's also the humpiest piece of sex on legs working in science fiction today.)

Every week I download podcasts and vodcasts (speaking of words, because language is an organic creature we sometimes make them up!) by the guys at Monocle Magazine. This week there was a fantastic vodcast called Class Acts about some interesting goings on in Bogotá, Columbia.

The second story on the vodcast really affected me, and it was about an organisation whose name means The Power of Words. Don José Alberto Gutierrez is a rubbish truck driver, who lives with his wife in a disadvantaged suburb of Bogotá. Over the years he would rescue books that he found in the rubbish, until he amassed a collection of over 10,000 volumes. Along the way he used rescued books to educate himself, and now the ground floor of his house has become a community library

Watch the vodcast and have a look for the website of La Fuerza de la Palabras because they explain the amazing feat this man has achieved, and his noble aims to bring literacy, culture and advancement to his (and other) communities. [Note: click the little language flag widgets on the right hand side of their web page for an English Translation.] Watch it and let your cold dead heart melt a little/lot.

Then read a good book, or say a kind word to someone.

The Interim Birthday Post

I celebrated my birthday last weekend, and I had a fabulous time. Really, it was an embarrassment of riches. Amongst the gifts both physical and emotional, I also received a cracker of a head cold. Ugh. I struggled into the office on Monday, but yesterday and today I've rarely moved from the bed or the sofa. Possibly the worst cold I've had in years! And it's gorgeous and sunny outside!

I call no fair!

Anyhoo, I'm struggling to do much of anything that involves a thought process, so I'll post some pics and thoughts about the weekend sometime in the next day or so. See you then.

This Never Happens In My Office

Why does this never happen? This should happen!

An Open Letter To My Sinuses

Dear Sinus,
Wow. Is this how things are going to be between us now?

I mean, how am I supposed to fix whatever this thing is that has gone so wrong between us if you won't be honest with me about what's the problem? One minute you're all "we made out with this hot rhinovirus and now we have a cold", and next you're just being all stuffy and uncommunicative. That really blows, you know? I've apologised for that thing with the finger, and anyway that was years and years ago. I think the time is right to move on, don't you? Unclench a little, we might both feel better for it.

And I really don't see why you get so irritated by pollen, she can be really sweet. At least she doesn't stab me in the forehead with a thousand fingers of pain just because I drank a frozen lychee slushy.

Cordially,
me.