Considering how appealing The Art of the Book sounded in the prospectus, and how engaging the first class was, the readings we have to do are as dry as dust. Surely even a scholar should be able to write interestingly about a subject as fascinating as books-as-objects. Or maybe there's a job for the Carl Sagan of bibliography, if there is one.
Actually, that's something I'd really like to do - rewrite dry-as-dust texts to make them readable, understandable and fun. Unfortunately this would require in-depth knowledge of these texts in their original, dense form. Life is too short.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
ugly bridesmaid's dresses
No Milk has been to a wedding in San Francisco, and one of his post-post links is this one about ugly bridesmaid's dresses.
I've never been a bridesmaid, so I've been spared the potential horror of wearing something embarrassingly unflattering in public, captured forever in the wedding photos. Maybe Kiwi brides are classier (or kinder); in the last few weddings I've either attended or seen photos of, the bridesmaids wore elegant, understated gowns which wouldn't have looked out of place at the Oscars.
I've never been a bridesmaid, so I've been spared the potential horror of wearing something embarrassingly unflattering in public, captured forever in the wedding photos. Maybe Kiwi brides are classier (or kinder); in the last few weddings I've either attended or seen photos of, the bridesmaids wore elegant, understated gowns which wouldn't have looked out of place at the Oscars.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
car trouble
Yesterday morning I was on a mission to get into town for a quick (and secret) appointment and then go on to work, hopefully not getting in too late and thereby attracting concerned looks and questions from my boss. Speed was of the essence.
Rushing about so much that I forgot to take my gym gear for later, I was shocked and stunned (a cliche, but perfectly accurate in this case) to see that some idiot had parked across my driveway. Normally when this happens, nothing makes me jump with glee more than getting the Parkwise guys over and watching the offending vehicle be towed away. But this morning I had no time for such fun. Fortunately I was pretty sure the person who'd parked there would be found in the double-storey house opposite. And she was.
As if that wasn't bad enough (I was almost late for my appointment), I had a problem when I was ready to leave town and go to work...
My car was parked in a car parking building, and at the time there were no other vehicles there. When I returned an hour later, my car was flanked by fat four-wheel drives (or four-by-fours or SUV, depending on where you're living). I couldn't get my car out.
Actually I could get my car out, but only with the help of the parking attendant who directed my eight-point turn. It was not a good day to have forgotten to wear anti-perspirant.
I was half an hour late to work. Just as well my boss didn't show up till midday.
Rushing about so much that I forgot to take my gym gear for later, I was shocked and stunned (a cliche, but perfectly accurate in this case) to see that some idiot had parked across my driveway. Normally when this happens, nothing makes me jump with glee more than getting the Parkwise guys over and watching the offending vehicle be towed away. But this morning I had no time for such fun. Fortunately I was pretty sure the person who'd parked there would be found in the double-storey house opposite. And she was.
As if that wasn't bad enough (I was almost late for my appointment), I had a problem when I was ready to leave town and go to work...
My car was parked in a car parking building, and at the time there were no other vehicles there. When I returned an hour later, my car was flanked by fat four-wheel drives (or four-by-fours or SUV, depending on where you're living). I couldn't get my car out.
Actually I could get my car out, but only with the help of the parking attendant who directed my eight-point turn. It was not a good day to have forgotten to wear anti-perspirant.
I was half an hour late to work. Just as well my boss didn't show up till midday.
vampire watermelons and spider phobias
The boy sent me this Wikipedia article about vampire watermelons. I was very skeptical, and there's always a chance that upon revisiting the site I'll find it's been 'corrected'. But if it's true, then isn't it fascinating! According to the article, it's an old Romanian thing which also applies to pumpkins and anything else left outside after around Halloween. Halloween pumpkins would certainly make more sense, knowing this. But watermelons? Apparently they aren't too scary to Romanian folk because watermelons don't have teeth.
One of my co-workers has a spider phobia - this explained why she sent a library patron to me, to colour photocopy some pictures of spiders. But the amusing thing was that she felt compelled to wash her hands after having to handle some books on the subject. (We all know books are great germ-carriers anyway, so it wasn't wasted effort.)
One of my co-workers has a spider phobia - this explained why she sent a library patron to me, to colour photocopy some pictures of spiders. But the amusing thing was that she felt compelled to wash her hands after having to handle some books on the subject. (We all know books are great germ-carriers anyway, so it wasn't wasted effort.)
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
local hero...kind of
I don't actually know Sandro Kopp, but I feel as though I do in an acquaintance-y kind of way. He's a painter of nudes whom I came across in a prospectus for an art school, way back when I was considering going there. I really like his nudes - they remind me a little of Lucien Freud - and now I find that not only was he an elf extra in The Lord of the Rings, but he's also going to play a centaur in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. He doesn't look beefy enough to me, to play a centaur, but he certainly could pass for an elf.
Monday, November 08, 2004
The Grudge (the original one)
We saw this last night on DVD. You can tell it's by the same guy who made Ring, because some of the same motifs are used - the loud ringing phone, the distorted photographs, the blurring of the border between tv/video-land and real life, the dead who come back...
It'll give you the heebie-jeebies too (full marks for creepiness), but the story doesn't make as much sense as the plot of Ring did (and Ring's plot didn't give much closure either). It'll be interesting to see how the American version works out, whether it tries to spell out an understandable story line for Western viewers.
It'll give you the heebie-jeebies too (full marks for creepiness), but the story doesn't make as much sense as the plot of Ring did (and Ring's plot didn't give much closure either). It'll be interesting to see how the American version works out, whether it tries to spell out an understandable story line for Western viewers.
bonus!
Due to a major balls-up in the roster, I'm working half an hour less than I should. It's only half an hour earlier than normal, but - due to the fact that I had rostered time off this morning to make up for working this coming Saturday - my total work time for Monday is...four and a half hours. Woo hoo!
(small pleasures...)
(small pleasures...)
There's money in them thar first editions
I was finishing up on the reading I've had to do for the first module of my course 'The Art of the Book', and there was one thing left to do before the class tonight. I was to pick a favourite book, and search online for all the various editions it's been publshed as, including finding the market value for first editions and so on.
My favourite book is Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy.
I wasn't expecting to be able to find much, and sure enough I didn't. As far as I could tell, there has only ever been one edition (2003), and it's not worth any more now than it was when it was first published.
So, racking my brains for a more likely candidate, I though of The Golden Bough. It's a book I haven't even seen a copy of yet, much less read. But it is a book I've been looking for on and off for the last year, ever since a similarly mythologically-inclined library patron recommended it to me. It turned out to be a fairly good choice, because there are lots of editions of this book, most of them being variations of the 1922 abridged edition. There are several editions before that, too.
It's left me wondering why the 1890 first edition was just two volumes while the 1906 edition was twelve, for one thing. I do know that someone is selling their third edition copy for one thousand dollars US.
My favourite book is Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy.
I wasn't expecting to be able to find much, and sure enough I didn't. As far as I could tell, there has only ever been one edition (2003), and it's not worth any more now than it was when it was first published.
So, racking my brains for a more likely candidate, I though of The Golden Bough. It's a book I haven't even seen a copy of yet, much less read. But it is a book I've been looking for on and off for the last year, ever since a similarly mythologically-inclined library patron recommended it to me. It turned out to be a fairly good choice, because there are lots of editions of this book, most of them being variations of the 1922 abridged edition. There are several editions before that, too.
It's left me wondering why the 1890 first edition was just two volumes while the 1906 edition was twelve, for one thing. I do know that someone is selling their third edition copy for one thousand dollars US.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
good food, bad food
What a small world...
On Friday night we went out for curry 'n' fireworks with some friends (it was Guy Fawkes night). I'd arranged to meet one of my friends at a local Irish pub; spotting him, I went over and found him sitting next to a guy he'd just met - who turned out to be an old tramping buddy from my university days. I then found out that his girlfriend at the time, whom I also knew, used to go to school with my friend! We missed half of the fireworks on the harbour, but what we saw of them was great. I just love fireworks.
Family blahs...
Yesterday was the kind of day that makes me fantasise about leaving the country, freeing myself from daughterly duties forever. My main worry is that I'm going to just as much of a pain in the arse when I get to my mother's age; if my boy leaves me by then I won't be able to hold it against him. According to his partner, my brother has apparently been showing signs pain-in-the-arseness too. It's a kind of fixatedness they have, which results in major tantrums if they don't get the half-price bargain they really really want right now. I think that my brother's partner and my nephew are the two sanest people in my family right now.
Dicing with porcelain-hugging...
Then there was a house-leaving barbeque last night; a past brush with the deadly cryptosporidium has left the boy extremely wary of barbeque food. I bought a couple of pork steaks so that at least I would have something to eat. It was very ironic when the boy caved in to temptation but chose to eat a sausage instead of one of the steaks (hello...it was the sausage that did you in two Christmases ago...).
On Friday night we went out for curry 'n' fireworks with some friends (it was Guy Fawkes night). I'd arranged to meet one of my friends at a local Irish pub; spotting him, I went over and found him sitting next to a guy he'd just met - who turned out to be an old tramping buddy from my university days. I then found out that his girlfriend at the time, whom I also knew, used to go to school with my friend! We missed half of the fireworks on the harbour, but what we saw of them was great. I just love fireworks.
Family blahs...
Yesterday was the kind of day that makes me fantasise about leaving the country, freeing myself from daughterly duties forever. My main worry is that I'm going to just as much of a pain in the arse when I get to my mother's age; if my boy leaves me by then I won't be able to hold it against him. According to his partner, my brother has apparently been showing signs pain-in-the-arseness too. It's a kind of fixatedness they have, which results in major tantrums if they don't get the half-price bargain they really really want right now. I think that my brother's partner and my nephew are the two sanest people in my family right now.
Dicing with porcelain-hugging...
Then there was a house-leaving barbeque last night; a past brush with the deadly cryptosporidium has left the boy extremely wary of barbeque food. I bought a couple of pork steaks so that at least I would have something to eat. It was very ironic when the boy caved in to temptation but chose to eat a sausage instead of one of the steaks (hello...it was the sausage that did you in two Christmases ago...).
Saturday, November 06, 2004
Relatives en masse
I found out a couple of weeks ago that a bunch of relatives are coming over from Hong Kong for a visit - my uncle (my mum's brother), his wife and my aunt (my mum's sister) have taken advantage of some cheap airfares to come to New Zealand. So they're stopping off in Auckland to visit another aunt and the four of them are coming to my hometown to visit my mother.
It's going to be a houseful of seventy-somethings.
My brother was complaining that they could've chosen a more convenient time to make the journey; he's an architect and in the middle of the busiest time of his working year. For me of course, there are only two three-week periods of the year in which I'm not juggling full-time work with part-time study; this is not one of those times. Still, it would be nice to see them, and we'd be bad hosts if we didn't at least try to spend as much time as possible showing them around the place. For two of them it will be their first time ever in this country.
It was a revelation to realise that they are all here to celebrate my mum's eightieth birthday, something which the birthday girl herself denied wanting to doing anything about.
My brother has arranged a late lunch meeting at my mum's house today, to work out among the three of us how we are going to keep everyone entertained. Perhaps I'm paranoid, but I interpret it as a meeting to bully me into doing the bulk of the driving. I should have told him that the two of them could just work it out themselves and let me know later - that's what they usually do anyway.
Unfortunately, the boy isn't going to be around much of the time - he's going overseas for ten days to visit his wee daughter. So not only will I miss his support, but the rellies aren't going to get to meet him.
It's going to be a houseful of seventy-somethings.
My brother was complaining that they could've chosen a more convenient time to make the journey; he's an architect and in the middle of the busiest time of his working year. For me of course, there are only two three-week periods of the year in which I'm not juggling full-time work with part-time study; this is not one of those times. Still, it would be nice to see them, and we'd be bad hosts if we didn't at least try to spend as much time as possible showing them around the place. For two of them it will be their first time ever in this country.
It was a revelation to realise that they are all here to celebrate my mum's eightieth birthday, something which the birthday girl herself denied wanting to doing anything about.
My brother has arranged a late lunch meeting at my mum's house today, to work out among the three of us how we are going to keep everyone entertained. Perhaps I'm paranoid, but I interpret it as a meeting to bully me into doing the bulk of the driving. I should have told him that the two of them could just work it out themselves and let me know later - that's what they usually do anyway.
Unfortunately, the boy isn't going to be around much of the time - he's going overseas for ten days to visit his wee daughter. So not only will I miss his support, but the rellies aren't going to get to meet him.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
email fiends, unnecessary lists and the challenge of making church history look interesting
For the second time in as many months, the Information Management department at the university has succumbed to some sort of e-mail virus. My in-box keeps filling up with multiple copies of some meaningless piece of mail, sent from the university; I can't delete it all in one go without also deleting the stuff I want to keep.
Plus, I think I've joined a couple of Book History-related dscussions lists too soon. So far I've received about ten e-mails about the history of Jane Austen's Emma.
I've got two displays to put up next week, one for an Anglican church and the other for a Catholic rest home. The use of fake religious relics would be tacky. White is a nice, Christian colour - but not terribly interesting (unless I add gold, then it might become tacky). At least they aren't going to incite any religious warfare, I suppose.
Plus, I think I've joined a couple of Book History-related dscussions lists too soon. So far I've received about ten e-mails about the history of Jane Austen's Emma.
I've got two displays to put up next week, one for an Anglican church and the other for a Catholic rest home. The use of fake religious relics would be tacky. White is a nice, Christian colour - but not terribly interesting (unless I add gold, then it might become tacky). At least they aren't going to incite any religious warfare, I suppose.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
no accounting for taste
I don't understand it, and I probably never will. Why oh why oh why does the boy insist on buying DVDs of movies which even he admits are rubbish?
He came home with Van Helsing last night; apparently he just couldn't help it - he had to get it. And yet we both went to see it in town a while ago and I'm sure he was just a scathing of it as I was. Well, maybe slightly less. He certainly didn't rave about it.
The boy just has a habit of wanting to see films even if everybody he knows has derided it. I only narrowly missed being pressured into seeing the second Tomb Raider movie (the first one was one of the suckiest action movies I've ever seen).
If I'd just met the guy, and he revealed his taste for awful movies, I woulda dumped him then and there - so it's just as well for him I already fell for him by then, eh?
He came home with Van Helsing last night; apparently he just couldn't help it - he had to get it. And yet we both went to see it in town a while ago and I'm sure he was just a scathing of it as I was. Well, maybe slightly less. He certainly didn't rave about it.
The boy just has a habit of wanting to see films even if everybody he knows has derided it. I only narrowly missed being pressured into seeing the second Tomb Raider movie (the first one was one of the suckiest action movies I've ever seen).
If I'd just met the guy, and he revealed his taste for awful movies, I woulda dumped him then and there - so it's just as well for him I already fell for him by then, eh?
More Tim Tams for me.
Usually when I do the bus on Wednesday afternoons I'm accompanied by another library assistant, because there are heaps of oldies to help up and down the steps on this particular run.
My usual accomplice has been bitching for ages about the waste of resource in sending her with me; last Friday she got her wish - I was to do the run alone in future.
So today was my first Wednesday afternoon bus run on my own; obviously, this coincided with a busier-than-usual afternoon. The most worrisome thing was that I would have to reverse the bus for about ten metres without anyone to watch and ensure that I didn't run over an old biddy and her walking frame.
The most rewarding thing was that the nice people at one of the nursing homes brought out Tim Tams and tea to the bus, and the ex-accomplice loves Tim Tams (cookies with multiple layers of chocolate in various textures, for you North Americans).
My usual accomplice has been bitching for ages about the waste of resource in sending her with me; last Friday she got her wish - I was to do the run alone in future.
So today was my first Wednesday afternoon bus run on my own; obviously, this coincided with a busier-than-usual afternoon. The most worrisome thing was that I would have to reverse the bus for about ten metres without anyone to watch and ensure that I didn't run over an old biddy and her walking frame.
The most rewarding thing was that the nice people at one of the nursing homes brought out Tim Tams and tea to the bus, and the ex-accomplice loves Tim Tams (cookies with multiple layers of chocolate in various textures, for you North Americans).
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Questions, questions
Yesterday's difficult request from a customer:
"I want to see a map of Poland as it was before World War II, showing all the towns. But I can't remember the name of the town I'm interested in."
(Not in the two books of Polish history, nor in the world history atlases).
Today's unusual phone request from a customer:
"I've got dog hair all over the flooring in my car, and using the vacuum cleaner hasn't helped get it off. Can you tell me how to get the dog hair out?"
(A quick answer, found on the Internet, was to rub it with your rubber-gloved hand or roll some sellotape over it). My boss overheard me and told me I should've just told him to come to the library for the house-cleaning books.
I think it might finally be summer. In my lunch break I went outside to read, and had to return indoors after a while because my black hair soaked up too much heat and cooked my brain (that's my excuse anyway).
"I want to see a map of Poland as it was before World War II, showing all the towns. But I can't remember the name of the town I'm interested in."
(Not in the two books of Polish history, nor in the world history atlases).
Today's unusual phone request from a customer:
"I've got dog hair all over the flooring in my car, and using the vacuum cleaner hasn't helped get it off. Can you tell me how to get the dog hair out?"
(A quick answer, found on the Internet, was to rub it with your rubber-gloved hand or roll some sellotape over it). My boss overheard me and told me I should've just told him to come to the library for the house-cleaning books.
I think it might finally be summer. In my lunch break I went outside to read, and had to return indoors after a while because my black hair soaked up too much heat and cooked my brain (that's my excuse anyway).
Monday, November 01, 2004
The original celluloid blood-sucker
We watched Nosferatu on DVD last night. It was genuinely creepy; Count Orloff is damned ugly and not at all seductive like, say, Dracula; his shadow is even creepier than his person.
I did find the soundtrack a little distracting; it's a load of avant-garde music which is alternately spooky and simply peculiar. Also, knowing how old the film is was a distraction too. Every time I saw a scene of waves crashing I'd think "Those are waves crashing eighty-odd years ago...". I'd see young Ellen, the heroine, and think "She's no doubt dead and rotting in her grave by now...".
We saw Shadow of the Vampire quite a while ago - I think I should watch it again so I'll get the jokes.
I did find the soundtrack a little distracting; it's a load of avant-garde music which is alternately spooky and simply peculiar. Also, knowing how old the film is was a distraction too. Every time I saw a scene of waves crashing I'd think "Those are waves crashing eighty-odd years ago...". I'd see young Ellen, the heroine, and think "She's no doubt dead and rotting in her grave by now...".
We saw Shadow of the Vampire quite a while ago - I think I should watch it again so I'll get the jokes.
October
Thanks, Pickwick.
Lots of this applies to me, but I certainly do care what others think (though I wish I didn't). Also, I only love children when they aren't being bratty, noisy and messy. Not sure about the outer beauty either. You'd have to ask someone else.
OCTOBER:
Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to
takes things at
the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but
doesn't
pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends
importantly. Always making friends.
Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer.
Opinionated. Does not care of
what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong
clairvoyance. Loves to
travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily
jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and
fair.
Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses
confidence. Loves children.
What does your birth month say about you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Lots of this applies to me, but I certainly do care what others think (though I wish I didn't). Also, I only love children when they aren't being bratty, noisy and messy. Not sure about the outer beauty either. You'd have to ask someone else.
OCTOBER:
Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to
takes things at
the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but
doesn't
pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends
importantly. Always making friends.
Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer.
Opinionated. Does not care of
what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong
clairvoyance. Loves to
travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily
jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and
fair.
Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses
confidence. Loves children.
What does your birth month say about you?
brought to you by Quizilla
The study break that wasn't
My current study break is three weeks long - that is, there are three weeks between the last class in trimester two and the first class of trimester three. But it's really so much less than that; the first week of the study break was spent finishing an assignment, and the last week will be spent doing the required reading in preparation of the next class which is next Monday. So, in all, I had a break of a week in which I could read purely for pleasure, research only the subjects I'm interested in and write for fun instead of for credit.
And the next super-sucky thing is that, over Christmas, I get a mere one and a half weeks off school.
One of those big questionsI wonder why, when I forget the key to the branch library, I don't remember I need it until I've already driven the fifteen minutes through the suburbs to get there from the main library?
Making Murphy's Law work for me
Considering how I've often been passionately interested in something right up until I commit to it by spending up on materials, classes, outfits or whatever...I should commit myself to being a library assistant at my library for forever - thereby ensuring an offer to work for big bucks at an art school library doing whatever the hell I like...
And the next super-sucky thing is that, over Christmas, I get a mere one and a half weeks off school.
One of those big questionsI wonder why, when I forget the key to the branch library, I don't remember I need it until I've already driven the fifteen minutes through the suburbs to get there from the main library?
Making Murphy's Law work for me
Considering how I've often been passionately interested in something right up until I commit to it by spending up on materials, classes, outfits or whatever...I should commit myself to being a library assistant at my library for forever - thereby ensuring an offer to work for big bucks at an art school library doing whatever the hell I like...
Sunday, October 31, 2004
More of the usual
Emotional torture
Today I spent a whopping 5 1/2 hours doing daughter-ly duties. That's two hours shopping at the market (including one hour of my mother telling me what was wrong with me), one hour at the cemetary and another half hour at the supermarket. I settled down after I got home and went for a long walk up the hill and back, but it's days like these which make me consider telling the boy to get a job in Seattle.
Yeh-yeh's garden
My brother and my nephew came along to the cemetary to do the ancestor-worship thing; my nephew calls it "going to Yeh-yeh's garden" (or "going to grandfather's garden"). I think it's a cute euphemism, since it's essentially what we're doing. We go to the grave, we replace the dried up flowers from last time with a fresh bunch, and we kow-tow.
Angel revisited
We bought Season One of Angel yesterday, and watched the first half of it last night. I'm enjoying it the second time around heaps more than when I first watched it.
Today I spent a whopping 5 1/2 hours doing daughter-ly duties. That's two hours shopping at the market (including one hour of my mother telling me what was wrong with me), one hour at the cemetary and another half hour at the supermarket. I settled down after I got home and went for a long walk up the hill and back, but it's days like these which make me consider telling the boy to get a job in Seattle.
Yeh-yeh's garden
My brother and my nephew came along to the cemetary to do the ancestor-worship thing; my nephew calls it "going to Yeh-yeh's garden" (or "going to grandfather's garden"). I think it's a cute euphemism, since it's essentially what we're doing. We go to the grave, we replace the dried up flowers from last time with a fresh bunch, and we kow-tow.
Angel revisited
We bought Season One of Angel yesterday, and watched the first half of it last night. I'm enjoying it the second time around heaps more than when I first watched it.
Friday, October 29, 2004
The curse of the culinarily inattentive traveller
Reading through the old travel diary I wrote when I was in India (many years ago), it strikes me that I’d spent quite a bit of writing effort in describing what I ate, how much it cost and how delicious it was. You know, I’m one of the few people I know who actually gained weight in India. Not so lucky was Sarah P, who was in my tour group; she got sick after her first dinner in Bombay, and over the remainder of the three week trip she never got to ingest anything more than chai and moderate amounts of plain, white rice.
It’s not as though I have an iron digestive system though, because I’ve succumbed to variations of Delhi Belly/Bali Belly/Montezuma’s Revenge/[enter your euphemism here] all over the world:
1. Right after I graduated from university, I went to China with my brother and my mother. It was only for nine days; I got sick right after a particularly delicious vegetarian lunch and for the next week I couldn’t go anywhere near food without going a nice Kermit-green.
2. I went to Paris with my brother and stayed in at a mate’s place. Our thank-you to the friend was a pot of homemade won tons in soup, created from ingredients at a local Asian supermarket. Not used to central heating (it was mid-winter), I didn’t realise that it would be extremely foolhardy to reheat and eat the leftovers which had been sitting on the stove for three days. This was on the last day of my stay before returning to Edinburgh; I was so sick and miserable that when my male flatmate got home I rushed out to meet him and garner some sympathy, in my underwear. Also, I missed Hogmanay, which I have always regretted.
3. Before I went on the Inca Trail, I was told that water boils at a lower temperature at altitude. Boiling water therefore isn’t sufficient to kill all the germs that make a person hug her toilet bowl. I ignored this piece of information because I didn’t get around to buying purification tablets. While I didn’t get really sick this time, I did have a queasy four days.
4. Back at home, I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve made myself sick with inadequately thawed beef and four-day old milk-and-sugar sweets which I bought from an Indian stall in a fit of nostalgia (yes, that was only this last week).
Meanwhile, Rough Guide has been a little harsh about various bits of New Zealand. I think the author's view is fair though, and I'm inclined to agree with him/her about Auckland and Wellington.
It’s not as though I have an iron digestive system though, because I’ve succumbed to variations of Delhi Belly/Bali Belly/Montezuma’s Revenge/[enter your euphemism here] all over the world:
1. Right after I graduated from university, I went to China with my brother and my mother. It was only for nine days; I got sick right after a particularly delicious vegetarian lunch and for the next week I couldn’t go anywhere near food without going a nice Kermit-green.
2. I went to Paris with my brother and stayed in at a mate’s place. Our thank-you to the friend was a pot of homemade won tons in soup, created from ingredients at a local Asian supermarket. Not used to central heating (it was mid-winter), I didn’t realise that it would be extremely foolhardy to reheat and eat the leftovers which had been sitting on the stove for three days. This was on the last day of my stay before returning to Edinburgh; I was so sick and miserable that when my male flatmate got home I rushed out to meet him and garner some sympathy, in my underwear. Also, I missed Hogmanay, which I have always regretted.
3. Before I went on the Inca Trail, I was told that water boils at a lower temperature at altitude. Boiling water therefore isn’t sufficient to kill all the germs that make a person hug her toilet bowl. I ignored this piece of information because I didn’t get around to buying purification tablets. While I didn’t get really sick this time, I did have a queasy four days.
4. Back at home, I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve made myself sick with inadequately thawed beef and four-day old milk-and-sugar sweets which I bought from an Indian stall in a fit of nostalgia (yes, that was only this last week).
Meanwhile, Rough Guide has been a little harsh about various bits of New Zealand. I think the author's view is fair though, and I'm inclined to agree with him/her about Auckland and Wellington.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Habits, body fat, angry people and books (not at the same time)
It's got to mean something when just for one evening I can't seem to access my favourite blogs, nor post to my own blog, and I get all antsy and anxious in that tight-around-the-shoulders kind of way. What a relief when I tried again tonight and it was all a-ok.
After almost a whole year since my last fitness test down at the gym, I relented and said would get another one done. I haven't been particularly keen because, even though I've tried to go three times a week, I know that my exercise levels are lower than they were. What hasn't helped is that the boy, who is in charge of the cooking in this household, has been feeling a bit tired in the evenings and resorting to home-delivered fast food or supermarket pizza. My reluctance to have the results of the last ten months of gym attendance quanitifed was completely justified though - although I am much fitter than I was last time, I am also heavier and wider. I was not pleased.
I've been a bit unlucky with getting "difficult" customers in the last couple of days:
a woman who complained bitterly how bad she thought the library was (when pressed, all she could come up with was that it's not big enough and not open for enough hours on Saturdays);
a woman who somehow had two library accounts but only one library card (and so did her daughter. I didn't say so, but we blame her);
a woman who wanted to print off a file on a disk, and didn't realise that her Microsoft Works file would not open on the library computer because it only has Word etc., and doesn't have the Works-Word translator software loaded. She then spent the next hour re-creating a lengthy document on Excel, only to find that we couldn't get the file to print out properly (it's a long story, don't send me any fixes!). Red-faced and pissed off, she left in a huff.
I've only just realised that all those customers were women - I'm sure it's just a coincidence. Anyway, it was really draining.
I'm really enjoying Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex, and Paul Linde's Of Spirits and Madness - the former is about a Greek family starting from the moment a brother and sister realise they're in love with each other, told from the point of view of their transgender grandchild Cal. It's really easy to read considering it's a literature award winner. The latter is a really interesting and well-written account of an American psychiatrist's time in Zimbabwe, trying to meld his own rationalist education and culture with the spiritualist one of the locals.
It's only a couple more weeks before I have to abandon the leisure-reading for the text books...
After almost a whole year since my last fitness test down at the gym, I relented and said would get another one done. I haven't been particularly keen because, even though I've tried to go three times a week, I know that my exercise levels are lower than they were. What hasn't helped is that the boy, who is in charge of the cooking in this household, has been feeling a bit tired in the evenings and resorting to home-delivered fast food or supermarket pizza. My reluctance to have the results of the last ten months of gym attendance quanitifed was completely justified though - although I am much fitter than I was last time, I am also heavier and wider. I was not pleased.
I've been a bit unlucky with getting "difficult" customers in the last couple of days:
a woman who complained bitterly how bad she thought the library was (when pressed, all she could come up with was that it's not big enough and not open for enough hours on Saturdays);
a woman who somehow had two library accounts but only one library card (and so did her daughter. I didn't say so, but we blame her);
a woman who wanted to print off a file on a disk, and didn't realise that her Microsoft Works file would not open on the library computer because it only has Word etc., and doesn't have the Works-Word translator software loaded. She then spent the next hour re-creating a lengthy document on Excel, only to find that we couldn't get the file to print out properly (it's a long story, don't send me any fixes!). Red-faced and pissed off, she left in a huff.
I've only just realised that all those customers were women - I'm sure it's just a coincidence. Anyway, it was really draining.
I'm really enjoying Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex, and Paul Linde's Of Spirits and Madness - the former is about a Greek family starting from the moment a brother and sister realise they're in love with each other, told from the point of view of their transgender grandchild Cal. It's really easy to read considering it's a literature award winner. The latter is a really interesting and well-written account of an American psychiatrist's time in Zimbabwe, trying to meld his own rationalist education and culture with the spiritualist one of the locals.
It's only a couple more weeks before I have to abandon the leisure-reading for the text books...
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