Category: Kiwi

Wine

I believe that last post was my first drunk post…

Let me just say that wine + PMS + mysterious drink + a realllly long few weeks = crying in a car.

Good thing I have friends for that. <3

Things you can’t change

I’ve been working through this post in my head for exactly 4 days, 13 hours, 59 minutes and 15 seconds.

It’s not about resolutions.

I don’t think I believe in resolutions. At least, I don’t believe in them for me. I already have my list of 100 things to do before I die. Sometimes at the beginning of a year I’ll pick a few of those that I think I can accomplish by the end of the year. When I was in high school and university, I would usually write a little list of about 5 things I wanted to do over the summer. They were always achievable things. The summer I was 14 I taught myself to shuffle. The summer I was 17 I taught myself to French braid my hair. The summer I was 21 I taught myself to sit up straight. But I do horribly with concepts that you can’t measure. Things that I can’t definitively cross off a list. And, honestly, if I make a list that I can’t finish it drives me crazy.

Okay, I lied, it’s about resolutions.

But I don’t have any. Not really. It’s more like I’ve come up with a philosophy.

If you’re reading my blog then you already know that these past four months have been some of the hardest of my life. There are a lot of things outside of my control that I have been working against, to change. And I’ve had a few conversations with Fae and Kaitlyn recently about what type of things I should accept in life and which things I should work to change.

Because life sucks. But I’m stronger than that, right?

There are things in my life that suck. Things that I can’t change. Things that require patience and courage and perseverance.

What I can change is how they effect me. What I can change is how I see my circumstances. What I can change is what I make of my life.

And the true task isn’t being happy when everything’s great, it’s finding a way to be happy when everything isn’t.

I’ve already started to make some changes in my life this year. Little things that I can change. And hopefully I’ll slowly work up to the big things and I’ll spend 2011 learning how to be happy when things aren’t exactly as I might wish them to be.

And this girl? I’ve proof that she still exists.

Me on New Year's Eve, photo by Chandra

Writing a dissertation…

…is incredibly stressful.

I thought that the hardest part would be the actual writing bit. But I adjusted to that fairly well. I woke up every morning at 8am (not willingly, but because construction begins at 8am sharp right outside my front door), had two to three cups of coffee while I watched some tv show or another to wake up, then sat at my computer from about 9:30am until 5pm, almost everyday. And I wrote. Lots. And most of it was even decent.

On Monday I finally finished the actual writing bit, and that’s when I started to get stressed.

Why? Because I have a million little nit-picky things to do to the dissertation, in terms of editing, formatting, etc. And they all take a lot more time than they should. And to make matters worse, I took on the task of typing someone else’s dissertation for some extra cash. I finished typing it weeks ago, but he wants me to do the nit-picky things on his as well.

This afternoon I spent over 45 minutes trying to get a picture into a Word document. No matter what I did, the picture would not go anywhere but at the top of the page. In the end I had to get Kaitlyn, my Amazonian Webmistress, to fix it for me. Thank God. Because by that point I had thrown things around my apartment and slammed every door I could think of while swearing like a sailor at the construction workers outside (who couldn’t hear me, I promise… not so sure about my neighbours though…)

So, I guess writing a dissertation isn’t as stressful as polishing one up.

I should be all done next week. I hope. And then I promise I will come back from the blogcation of the last month or so.

Geek break!

We now take a break from our scheduled programming to bring you a special segment on Geekery.

I got a blog award! And not just any blog award, but a Geeky one. And not just any Geeky award, but a girly one, too. So great!

Eleni, my awesome geeky friend over at RPG Called Life, awarded me this the other day:

geekgirlsuniteaward

Which makes me so happy, because 1) Eleni is an awesome geeky girl whose blog I love and 2) I am a geek and proud of it!

The rules:
List ten geeky facts about yourself and…
Pass this award onto your favorite female geeks!

1. I met four of my best friends online, through various RPG clubs based on the Tamora Pierce books that I read when I was a pre-teen. I was obsessed with these books and spent a lot of my time writing and talking about them with Fae, Ali, Kitty and Lea. I wanted them to be real. Hell, I still want them to be real. And Fae and I still write using characters that trace back to those books original.

2. I speak a bit of Quenya (a Tolkien Elvish language) with Fae. We used to know more, because we wrote characters who spoke it. Now we just speak it to each other - our conversations, emails and letters nearly always end with “Namaarie melamin vanima” (”Farewell my love, beautiful [Fae]“) or “Amin mela lle”(”I love you”).

3. I can recite the entire Rent soundtrack from beginning to end. I’m obsessed with musicals - particularly Rent, Wicked, Spring Awakening and Aida.

4. I am a huge Diablo II freak. I love that game and have spent many, many nights playing multiplayer with my friend Kaitlyn. I also loved Neverwinter Nights, but my computer wasn’t good enough to run it. I recently became obsessed with Fable II. I love fantasy rpgs.

5. I correct people’s grammar and spelling constantly. In person and on Facebook. Also, one time I was bored an took a red pen and corrected all the sentence structure errors in our local newspaper. It was appalling. There are few things in life that make me as happy as a red pen and someone else’s hard work.

6. I watched all ten seasons of Stargate SG-1 and all five of Stargate Atlantis between September and December of last year.

7. I’m a huge history Greek. I’ve studied Greek and Latin (albeit poorly). I’ve read most of the Greek and Latin authors (Homer, Ovid, Seneca, Aeschylus, Plautus, Herodotus, etc.) I can go on for ages about mythology.

8. I was a huge Pokemon fan as a kid. Enough said.

9. I once had a conversation with Chandra about the Julio-Claudian dynasty as we were getting ready for the day, before 9am. I know this is similar to #7, but it’s too good of an example.

10. My favourite part of working in a museum was dressing up in the period costumes. I firmly believe that I was born in the wrong time period. I also love Renn Faires and anything else that involves dressing up and pretending.

And now I want to award this to:

My friend Kitty, who I mentioned in #1, who is a fellow fantasy geek and classicist.

The Chris from Always Standing, who plays WOW, among other geeky things.

My Faerie, fellow Elvish speaker who loves all the geeky things I do, plus comics and more video games.

Also, if you haven’t read it yet, read why I think Geeky girls are so awesome: Top Ten Reasons to Love a Geeky Girl.

Left and leaving I

Almost foot taller than me, my forehead is pressed against her bare shoulder, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. Both a little clammy with the sweat from an evening spent moving boxes, we hold on for a long time. When we pull away, I brush a tear off of my cheek and look up at her.

My head is full of days spent playing House, building Barbie houses and Spice Girls songs. Echoes of splashing in pools and shrieking on Slip N’ Slides, of McDonald’s Caboose birthdays and Mario Kart races. I don’t know how we got this old, my Kiwi and I. It seems like just yesterday we were little kids with bad 90s hair. Even then I was looking up at her, always the perfect height to be hit in the face with her ponytail.

It’s hard to call her my friend - that word doesn’t seem like enough. I’ve known her for twenty years. We know each other more like family than just friends. We have always know exactly what to say and exactly how to push each other’s buttons.

“I’ll miss my Dudders,” she says. I’m only vaguely aware that everyone is watching us. I brush away another tear. She kisses the top of my head and hugs me again.
“I’ll miss you, too,” I say quietly, muffled into her shoulder.
“Christmas,” she says.
“Christmas.” I agree. But then what? I can’t help but think. As we get older, the distances seems to get more absolute, less temporary. I don’t want to let go. I thought I was ready to leave people behind, but I forgot that she’d be leaving me first. This is harder, somehow.

As I walk out the door, I can’t help but feel like I’ve left part of me behind. The part that’s made of apple juice and ice cream. The part that’s reflected in the mirror of my oldest friend.

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