i know it’s looking dumb. i hate that big ‘miscellany’ over there on the left, too. i’ll try to fix it soon.
and i know the comments thing is annoying. and i still haven’t fixed up the search results pages. i’m sorry. i’m sorry.
sigh.
my world is smaller since i’ve gotten ill.
see how excited i just got about what amounts to a portable tape recorder?
i’ve also been discovering technology
so while i’ve been sick, i’ve also been discovering technology. i’m going to take The Squeeze’s little laptop, memory stick and little digital camera to europe with me.
the mem stick is actually totally bitching.
i was considering buying a little tape recorder thingy for interviews, when The Squeeze remembered the mem stick. it has a microphone built in. and it ROCKS. you can fit 8 hours of voice on it. then you just insert it into the side of the lappy and upload. or you listen with headphones. utter simplicity.
hoorah for media convergence.
hoorah for digital thingies.
the mem stick is also ace for listening to music (like an ipod, except better because you can then upload the music to other computers) and for carrying around other computer files (like word documents), and then uploading other places. it is utterly excellent.
i’m not much of a walkman technology type of person – i’d rather read a book on the bus, keep plugged into the world around me. it’s more interesting.
but i had a great big stack of interesting and thought-inspiring fun recording the sounds all around me on the bus.
it’s so small and unobtrusive, you can do it without people noticing. then you just plug it into your computer and play with the file. no need to digitise from casettes or any of that rubbish.
aw yeah, baby.
it is SO good.
itchy and vomiting? cool.
i’ve had a busy few days. busy being SICK, that is.
i’m in stage three with the cold. week three, stage three. from head cold to chest cold to horrid, tight chested, wheazy dryish cough where i get dizzy from lack of oxygen because my lungs don’t work. i’m run down, i’m tired, i’m dizzy.
this is fucking shit.
i’ve been to another doctor since, today at uni, who offered me antibiotics with side effects i had to press him to explain. spew guts. great. i’d blotted that out of my memories of last time with this cold. that ‘wonderful new top drug for respiratory infections in europe’ antiobiotic makes me spew up. vigorously. it’s also likely to give you thrush. so i’ll really enjoy the next week. itchy and vomiting.
so i pocketed the script with a ‘yeah, right i’m going to take this without checking it’s not the one that makes me spew’ and no intention of shelling out the dosh until i’d double checked it with a real doctor.
i’m going to go to dr flowers. couldn’t get an appointment til next goddamn friday (a week! A WEEK!). so i’m going to stalk her at the drop-in clinic tomorrow. not the derro/junky drop in type clinic. the sad, desperately ill student drop in. where we fight for a last minute appointment.
meanwhile i’m filling my head with nasal spray, ventolin and pulmucort, and decongestants. symptom management is go.
i’ve done no exercise in three weeks, so i’m stiff and sore and cranky. i’ve tried walks, but i get tired and faint and feel spewy.
this has to end.
submariner flicks
seems that there’s a sudden rash of submarine film interest in melbourne. The Squeeze has a long standing interest in the genre. which i will foster as it allows me to ‘watch’ a film while crocheting that subtitled flicks do not. plus there’s lots of audio-centred content (ie being very quiet so we don’t let other subs know we’re there; and ‘pinging’ other marine vehicles) to cue you in on the narrative development.
personally, i don’t care much for submarine films per se, but they have their place.
iÂ’m not sure exactly what she thinks iÂ’ll be doing in europe, and i didnÂ’t really want to disappoint her
Today I went to the doctor on Sydney road. I usually go to the uni doctor, pretend like I’m still going to unimelb so I can see the excellent doctors there. But when I’m too sick (or lazy) to ride the 20mins to Carlton, or ride the annoying tram 15mins then walk 20 slow minutes across to the clinic, I go to the medical centre on Sydney road. It’s where I go when I want antibiotics and a complete lack of patient-doctor rapport. I’d never go there for anything important, like a pap smear, or an ongoing problem. I go there when I want a Quick Fix. And I know this cold. It needs to be Fixed, or I’ll be sick forever. Just like last time. I’ve been sick since last Thursday – that’s a week of sickness. I’m finally riding my bike again (though, as I learnt today, it’s a slow, coughing-my-guts up and arriving really exhausted sort of riding), but I’m not properly well yet. My voice is weird, I’m coughing and snorting up discoloured goobs, I’m run down, etc etc etc.
So I went to the doctor. I donÂ’t want to fly with buggered Eustachian tubes. Pain really isnÂ’t my thing.
I saw a nice Indian lady doctor (rather than the somewhat disturbingly overweight middle-aged man doctor), for oh, about 10 quality minutes. I’m usually all about booking double appointments with doctors so I can actually get some useful communication going – I don’t really feel that 10 minutes is sufficient time for a discussion about, oh, contraceptives, say. It took the doc, what, five years of study to figure out contraceptives. I think I’ll need more than 10 minutes.
But because I was at the clinic, I was prepared to spend 10 minutes. It was a nice 10 minutes. We talked mostly about that Moulin Rouge program thatÂ’s on the ABC at the moment. It’s about these Australian dancer girls who go to France to dance in some can can show (the actual Moulin Rouge may be involved, but IÂ’m not sure). I think we talked about that show because I said I needed to be well to go dance in Europe. IÂ’m not sure exactly what she thinks IÂ’ll be doing in Europe, and I didnÂ’t really want to disappoint her. Though that quick look up the back of my shirt while she plied her stethoscope should have cued her in on my actual status as a Dancer. Maybe she though I was sporting some fashionably European curves for the new season. Or maybe she wasnÂ’t really paying attention when she watched the naked dancing episode.
We did, though, spend a fair few minutes discussing the naked episode. I was assured that it wasnÂ’t just nakedness. It was well, you know, dancing nakedness. I assured her in return, that I understood. We talked very much in subtexts.
Seems the doc (whoÂ’s name I donÂ’t know) is mighty keen on the Moulin Rouge show, that she works long, hard days on Tuesdays (hence the programÂ’s appeal) and was interested in the ethical dilemma posed for the girls by the naked episode. And by their living conditions in Europe.
Well, I guess it was far more interesting than the content of my lungs.
I will have to go see the inestimable Dr Flowers to discuss this ongoing cold situation, though. Wonder what sheÂ’s been watching lately
blow you off your bike windy
it is 11 degrees here. day before yesterday it was 10, but ‘felt like 6’ according to weather.com. that was cold. and i had to go out in it. it’s so cold because it’s crazy windy here. really really windy. like, blow you off your bike windy. despite this, and lungs full of goob, i struggled up to sydney road to pay the rent, buy some veggies so we don’t get scurvy and spend some restorative time in spotlight (having discovered i’m too fat for my emergency wedding dress… wearing-to-wedding dress, that is).
but i’m still cold. it’s cold. cold. cold. cold. 11 isn’t so low, but it’s rainy and windy and very overcast. very drab. but soon i wil be getting some summer (piss-poor british summer, but still, summer).
i really need to get some exercise… oh god, now i really am the queen of dullness. i blame it on my illness. i don’t have the energy (intellectual, physical or emotional) to be witty or scintillating. all i can talk about is the weather, work and sewing. not even dancing any more…
bah, humbug.
dullness update
p>I’m almost through the horrid admin stuff for the trip. Well, I was until I remembered that the scholarship people demand to know your whereabouts at all times. Now, as per pgrad usual, I’d not bother filling in this form. But seeing as how the bureaucracy will know I’m gone (via the sneaky grants people), it’s best to cover your bases. So I will. With about three weeks to go, I’d better get a wriggle on with that form – requires signatures from supervisor and head of school (whose name I’m yet to learn, despite having spoken to his PA and a number of other people)
Still no word from the grants people re the dosh. When it arrives I’m dashing into the uni to pay my ticket
And my only other real business is paying for the savoy camp
More sewing has taken place. A couple of cute little dresses to go over pants and a nice pair of trousers.
The cold is easing
. Well, it’s gone south, and is now smeared all over the bottom of my lungs. Interesting vocal effects from stuffed up sinuses remain. My cough is impressive, but I’m finally feeling a bit more alert. Still very tired and quite dull to be around, but definitely more alert.
And I’ve noticed that this blog is very dull at the moment. Well, that’s a natural consequence of my own dullness. I will try to be more interesting. Do more interesting things
There is an interesting question percolating in the back of my head, though
to do with doing online research and ethics of fan-scholar research
hmm
workin’, workin’
ok, so i leave on the 26th of june. and i’m still wading through bureaucratic bullshit. you wouldn’t beleive the work involved in actually getting this grant thing sorted. i had a run in with the insurance people (arseholes), met about half a dozen very useful people in grants, the finance office and the faculty office, spent at least two hours in a travel agent trying to get my itinerary sorted, and sent a jillion emails.
it’s insane.
but finally, the flights are booked and i’m going. i’ve had to ditch the french bit of my trip, unfortunately, so i can’t go to the sea, sun and swing camp in la grande motte. that utterly sucks, as it was the one bit i was really looking forward to.
otherwise, i’m going to a wedding in wales, i’m (hopefully) going to see some of the countryside there, i’m doodelly dooing around england, i’m spending time in london, doing dance and other stuff, i’m going to Herrang in sweden for the camps (for a week and a bit), i’m going to a savoy camp in england after that, and then i’m stopping off in bangkok on the way home, where i’ll arrive on the 8th august.
i really liked bangkok the other times i’ve been, but unfortunately, i will once more be limited by time and $$ to only a few days. oh well.
so i’ve a busy trip ahead of me. i’ve mixed feelings about herrang – it should be fun, but i’ve never been all that keen to go there for my own sake. too much crazy cult action. and while there’ll be some arseholes from australia there, i’m sure i can avoid them. it’ll be a chance to catch up with dancers from all over the world, and to meet lots of new, excellent people as well.
and from a research a perspective, it will be facinating. i’m trying to sort out some interviews as well… i will be buuuusy.
major jobs left to do:
– contact family in england and wales to secure accomodation and lifts to the wedding
– sort out some rail passes for the uk
– plan the london bit more thoroughly
– confirm bangkok
– actually pay for ticket – hurry up finance dept!
there are also about a million other things to do as well. my to-do list is huuuge.
so of course, i’ve responded with some compulsive sewing. under the pretense that i’ll need lots of dance wear, so i have to whip up some things. but really, probably more an opportunity to Indulge.
meanwhile, i’m coughing up goobs, blowing out goobs and sneezing out goobs. tres sexy.
it’s that crazy disco dancing. it’s led me astray.
i am about as boring as boring gets at the moment. i’m full of goob, and trying not to panic about getting well in time to travel…
i’m flying out on the 26th (straight through to the uk… aw yeah, that’ll be excellent fun), so i’ve about 26 days to get the tubes in my head clear so i won’t explode in the plane. speaking of eustachian tubes. guess i shouldn’t have jinxed myself.
things weren’t helped by my dancing like a nut on two seperate occasions over the past week – a wednesday night at a pub, dancing like an idiot for too long, followed by talking and dancing with germ-ridden blues dancers til 6:30 in the morning; and a friday night at a bar (dancing like a complete fool, and without inhibition for about an hour).
it seems i have not only lost the few inhibitions i once had about dancing in public, but also any good sense about caring for ill bodies. it’s that crazy disco dancing. it’s led me astray.
i just don’t seem to care at all any more about what people think about me when i’m dancing. and while i’ve always loved disco dancing, i’ve not always been as prone to spasticity on the dance floor.
the next day i cringe at the memories… it seems there’s no dance move i won’t do, no limit on the amount of dance floor i’ll coopt for my own use, no unsuspecting peer i’ll not rope into dancing with me.
the perfect antidote to swing, i think.