oloriel: (Default)
Now I've been home for a few days, I feel compelled to ramble about DF some more, so here goes.

Ever since I've become a mother, my LARPing has been reduced to a minimum. So, because I didn't want to get out of touch entirely and also because I love the planning, discussion and preparation almost more than the actual event, anyway, I volunteered for the "OOC council" of people who organise stuff for the Grey Camp behind the scenes in order to (say) have a tent for the library, decorations for the Grey shrine, and other stuff that will definitely be needed during DF but won't be there if nobody thinks of it beforehand. Most of the year, that just means asking around who will take care of what project, modding the forum, and meeting up with the rest of the council via Teamspeak once a month so we know what else is going on.

But as a member, I am also strongly encouraged to travel there in advance (DF officially starts on Wednesday, with check-in on Tuesday; the OOC builders and planners arrive on the preceding Saturday so everything is set up by Tuesday evening). In previous years, I didn't do that because family. This year, I figured that the kids (and their dad ;)) have to be able to cope without me for a couple of days. It was... frustrating. Most of the time I was just sitting around waiting for work to arrive. Then it would arrive all at once on the last day. So it felt like two days wasted and one day stressful in spite of my early arrival. Adding the heat (the team who built our camp gate and pallisade worked through the nights because the days were too hot to do heavy lifting and screwing shit together under the merciless sun) and I was sick and tired of DF by the time my family arrived (late, because the trailer we'd rented turned out to be damaged and some last-minute repairs were necessary, to make things worse).



Gaming is serious business!/A rare moment of filial harmony.

Because the Grey Camp miraculously won last year's Drachenfest, I had also agreed to organise a special event to honour the Grey virtues of Knowledge and Wisdom: a sort of IC quiz show. I found two other women willing to work with me, which was a good thing - I could have done it on my own, but of course it was more fun to have comrades-in-arms, not to mention that it all ran more smoothly because one of us could explain while another noted down the results etc. I found a location in the in-game town (which turned out to be perfect) and one of my comrades-in-arms donated the copper money required to rent it, etc. For the tasks, we prepared a couple of questions about DF history, magic, weaponry and so on, and also some hands-on challenges. For instance, participants had to name plants and their uses, or make knots, or identify animal tracks. They had to write down their answers on slate tablets that I had marked in their camp's colours. It was all very well organised! *pats own shoulder*



Fake roe tracks, fake thrush feeding site, actual dormouse gnaw marks

Still, I was absolutely terrified. I am pretty shy and hate having to appear in front of an audience. It was better while I was still at university and regularly had to do presentations, but I've completely grown out of the habit, so my old stage fright has come back with full force. (A/N it's going to be such fun standing in front of a class on a daily basis.) But once the audience had arrived, it just... worked. I babbled too much (we generally talked too much, but then, we are Grey and always want to explain and teach things :P) but didn't freeze up or stammer. We had to improvise a few times and eventually dropped four tasks because we were taking too long, but otherwise, it was good. We got some praise both for our preparations and for the execution, so I am tempted to believe that it actually went well, and tentatively hoping that my teaching experience might go like this, too. :P

There was just one unfortunate development: our Grey Avatar appeared during the show (that wasn't the unfortunate thing), expressed her supreme approval, and invited us to see her later. But then, whenever we tried to visit her, she was busy or absent or otherwise engaged. Personally, I didn't mind - I'm a bit in awe of our Avatar persona; she's one of those tall, perfectly poised, immaculately made-up people (even in the heat!) I find intimidating, so the less occasion I have to make a fool of myself, the better! I just didn't want to be reprimanded for NOT following the invitation - but the eldest of our trio took it very hard. When ultimately it transpired that our meeting wouldn't happen (because it was only five minutes to the closing ceremony), she actually started crying from disappointment. She's my mom's age! On the one hand, it's sort of encouraging that even 60-year-olds can get so immersed in the game; on the other hand, the older people are, the more I feel that they need to remember that it's ultimately just a game, and that the Avatar is not actually an omnipotent being but a very human volunteer who also occasionally needs to pee, eat or *gasp* rest. Also DF days only have 24 hours and a LOT happening in them. But she was as disappointed as if the Avatar had singled her out to ignore her. It had been a tough DF for her, anyway; during the first night, she had fallen over - or been pushed over - in one of the port-a-potties, no doubt a traumatising experience, and our Contest Of Knowledge had been a bit of an escape for her. So that was unfortunate.
Meanwhile, I got the added bonus of finally - after twelve years of attending Drachenfest! - making an in-character visit to the Green camp. A long and complicated history between Green and Grey, but this year we were allies. And whether or not our camps like each other, Green is a spectacularly well-organised and pretty camp. Their garden! I wish I'd had more time to explore that and talk to their head gardener (who was absent while I was there - but the notes he left all over the gardens were HILARIOUS).



View across the field (and surroundings) from the in-game town

I already mentioned the heat. A local ice cream truck drove up to the field every day and, despite working in slo-mo, the ice cream guy can probably close his shop for the rest of the year. Every day, people would queue for his ice cream. (To be fair, it was very good ice cream. there was a soft ice stand in the "town" market which didn't get nearly as much business because it wasn't nearly as good.) Miraculously, the organisers managed to convince the authorities that 3000 LARPers are very responsible people, so we were allowed to run cooking fires throughout the event in spite of the highest forest fire risk level. (Nobody set the surrounding woods on fire, so the organisers seem to have been right.) Of course, temperatures of nearly 40°C meant that there were a lot less battles going on than there usually are. For our camp, it was not a particularly succesful year. We lost our banner early on Thursday morning and didn't get it back until the last second (and not by military action but by ritual, which only barely worked because we managed to get the required number of dragon eggs by Saturday noon. Last year we had more than 20 eggs - and a banner - by Saturday noon). Part of the problem was that during the second night, a crew from the Blue camp snuck into our camp and "blew up" (in-game) our library and other important institutions, so whatever energy we had went into "repairing" the damage and we had no manpower left for plots and competitions. (A lot of people in the Grey camp are very hard to motivate, and this year, due to the weather, it was even harder; those who always do a lot of work partially suffered from heat stroke or else were involved in putting the library and garden and scriptorium back together.) Our allied camps were very far away so by the time they arrived to help, less friendly camps had already taken advantage of the situation. -- The Blue camp won both the final battle and the Drachenfest. OOC, I'm very happy with that. Grey and Blue were close friends for a long time, and although the in-game politics have changed, I'm still very fond of a lot of people in Blue. In-game, we supported Green (who supported us last year) who already won three times, so OOC I was hoping for a different victor. Blue only won once, and as they were still very much in their "no power for no one" phase at the time, they didn't really make much of the victory and it all ended in chaos. So it's going to be interesting to see what they make of it next year. IC, I'm very disappointed that Blue, after their dastardly attack on us, were rewarded with victory! XD



Some spectacular clouds... but still no rain

On the whole, I just wish that I hadn't felt so exhausted most of the time. LARP camping is always a special level of difficult, especially if you're running an institution (the garden) and a contest on the side AND have a family to look after - starting with packing and continuing with setting everything up, everyday camping life with looong walks to the toilet and cooking on fire and wearing a long dress (I reduced my garb to just the petticoats, a kirtle and apron, but it was still sweaty within seconds! - That reminds me of a funny scene! I ran across a guy I know from Ring*Con and other events, but because he was only wearing a simple long undershirt, I was convinced it couldn't be him! He always wears such elaborate garb usually! But it was him. Even he succumbed to the heat.). Making do with whatever we thought of bringing along (and, naturally, realising what we forgot)... and finally, packing everything up again. And then cleaning and tidying it up at home. The kids were constantly fighting each other - they do that at home too, but we can send them to separate rooms when it happens! But we only had the one tent! Ugh! Such a bother. So a huge part of me keeps saying "That's it, no more garden, no more DF until the kids are old enough to go to their own summer camps or stay with granny - or join the Reman* army or the Rangers of Ithílien." But another part of me is already making plans for next year! TBH, I enjoy the preparations more than the actual event. I'll see how I can reconcile these two voices.

But! Since we were camping, we managed to observe the whole lunar eclipse on Friday night! (It was the night preceding the final battle so that was quite a spectacular omen, thank you very much, moon!) We had no idea that it was happening, being cut off from the news, but we certainly noticed. The previous night, we had shown Felix the evenstar and explained that it was actually a planet, and then I had discovered another planet in the sky when he was already in bed. But I had told him about it, and as we went up to the "town" because they've got the nicer toilets, I saw Mars rising above the treeline.... but still no moon? No wait, there's the moon! But it's... very dark. Mars was way brighter than the moon. The moon was way redder than Mars. This Is Not Normal. Felix, I think we're witnessing a lunar eclipse! - He was super excited about that (no wonder, it was quite impressive). Down in our campsite, the moon was still hidden behind the trees, but as it rose higher, the earth shadow just began to release it and we watched until it was a fat, brilliant full moon again.
So that was excellent.



Blurry moon pics, all taken within half an hour of each other.


On the whole, was it worth the effort? Probably. Was it good for me to challenge myself? Most definitely. Was it good to be among fellow nerds? Heck yes. But do I wish I could just have weathered the heat at home? Yeeeeah.


- - -
*like Romans, but Remus won.

Arghlblargh

Aug. 8th, 2017 08:20 pm
oloriel: (i did something stupid)
I'm physically sick with anxiety for one, or both, of two reasons.

- finished and posted the questionable meta/shipping manifesto/essay/thing. Well, probably pretentious enough to count as an essay. 44 references on six pages, WTF. Also, provocative much. And probably offending the wrong people. Why did I ever think this was a good idea. Time for the usual "They're gonna kick me out of fandom" angst and much internal hand-wringing etc. The canatics are going to kill me anyway.

- got a call from the bossman from hell. More angst. Turns out they pretty urgently need someone competent to do the calendar of events. Everything has gotten better since last year except that clearly it hasn't. (Between the lines, masked between plenty of "his qualities lie elsewhere" and "the trainee is helping out but you need solid general knowledge to do it right", it appears that the rest of the team just aren't up to it. Well, it is taxing, and the things that were supposed to make it easier last year actually made it worse, which has probably not changed.) Well, I know I can do the job. It wasn't the fun part of working at the magazine but it wasn't the worst either. The question isn't even "do I want to do it?" (To which the answer is "meh, but I don't terribly mind", which is prbly good enough?) The question is "should I sell my soul to that particular devil again" and. I just don't know.

Blargh.
oloriel: (dead winter reigns)


How can it be March already? The year only just began! There's still snow outside and everything!

Aside from many serious things that I really should write about some other time (some other time?), this means that it's only a coupla weeks till my 33rd birthday.

After my experiences in past years, I can't really be bothered to organise a party, but then again, thirty-three. An important number, when a Hobbit lass comes of age. I'll be moping forever if I don't at least try to get a couple of people to come and celebrate. (I'm assuming that even grown-up Hobbit don't stop moping.) Then again, I'll also be moping forever if I try to get people to come, and they don't. Aaaaaagh what to do.

Also, as my birthday is also my grandfather's birthday, and he's turning 90 this year (HOW CAN IT BE 2016 ALREADY?), I'll probably need to pick a different date. (If I celebrate in the first place.) BUT WHICH ONE. No, not the same. Our circles of friends don't really overlap, and 123 isn't as cool as 144 anyway.

Cannot cope. Off to Mordor...

This completely useless and incredibly grown-up post was brought to you by Lyra Needs To Hear Herself Thinking, Apparently.

Right. Back to B2MeM.
oloriel: (for delirium was once delight)


'náro has, so far, been a perfect patient. He's been cleaning himself, but left the stitches alone; he's been feeding, but taken predominantly liquids; he's been moving, but only to turn from one side to the other (avoiding bedsores), reach his food, or heave himself into the litterbox (!); and he's allowed me to give him his meds. Returning from his first vet check-up yesterday, he first hid behind the scratching post; later, apparently searching for human warmth and a hiding space, he crawled over the matress on which Felix was napping and then curled up on the shelf behind it. (Floor level, so that's all right, even though it meant the end of Felix' nap...) In other words, he's been extremely and unexpectedly reasonable and patient.

He spent the night - well, the beginning of it - in his playpen. And then this morning I come into the living-room - no 'náro anywhere.
Jörg eventually found him in the normal cat litter (that is, in another room). We have literally no clue how he got there. That is, once he was out of the playpen, it was a relatively simple matter of limping from the living-room into the kitchen, and from there into the space between kitchen and bathroom, where the litterbox is located. But how did he get out of the playpen? He either jumped out, which would have been a terribly stupid idea, or managed to squeeze himself through the bars of the playpen, which might not have been such a good idea either with his repaired hip. Haven't been able to check for obvious damage yet because he is now asleep in the litterbox, probably exhausted after his nightly exertions.

(Interestingly enough, he always does these things when the painkillers are wearing off. When Jörg picked him up at the clinic, the vet told him that if the cat got too jaunty, we should simply give him less painkillers, that'd curb his enthusiasm. But my impression so far is that the painkiller makes 'náro sleepy and docile, but when it's beginning to wear off, he gets restless. The better he gets, the more restless he gets, and this night he was clearly bored enough to break out of the playpen. Don't ask me why, he's got everything he needs in there, except for live mice. Which he won't find in the kitchen - or litterbox - either.)

Silly boy, I just hope he didn't hurt himself (further).

On the other side of the house, uncanny silence. They must have received a couple of "friendly" letters from our lawyer (both on previous issues and about 'náro) but the only reaction we've observed so far is that Mr. Tenant has taken a couple of photos of the house, drove off at his usual speed, returned an hour later, and mowed the lawn.
...
We've taken legal steps; here's hoping they won't take illegal steps.

Baby-wise, no news either - occasional "practice labour", but nothing serious. That's reasonably OK, after all it's a week to go until the "due date" and right now I feel more comfortable at home, except that Jörg's on vacation now (and can't take it any later). Hospital visit a few days ago (for standard CTG) was unpleasant (their machinery was apparently completely overtaxed by the combination of Braxton-Hicks contractions AND baby movement, so I had to take a walk and come again for another CTG and that was too quiet and then I had to stay another half hour until they were satisfied that it was just unusual readings/ bad timing rather than something pathological, which I could've told them all along, but of course you get nervous when hospital personell get all "Hmm, not sure what to make of this, but we can't let you go home yet". Fuck you too.

In conclusion, things are tense and I foresee a repeat of last time's post-partial frustration, just for different reasons this time.
oloriel: (Muttertier)


So we've crossed the magic border into the second trimester. Supposedly this is the time when you can stop worrying that your pregnancy will randomly end itself, because mostly that doesn't happen after this point. However, it's been a while since the last ultrasound and I can't feel any movements yet (unsurprisingly - week 12 would be seriously early, even in a second pregnancy), so I don't quite dare to breathe the big sigh of relief yet. Even though my belly has already grown quite absurdly. To my own eyes, I am very obviously pregnant. Other people apparently don't seem to notice yet. Or maybe they just don't dare to ask, in case I've just grown rounder and would be offended. ;)

And maaan, I feel mega-pregnant. Week 12 is also supposed to be the turning point from early "Help I Have To Grow Accustomed To This", morning sickness, tired much pregnancy to "Happy Happy Joy Joy", lots of energy, relaxed pregnancy, but my body seems to have missed the memo or jumped right ahead to "Can This Be Over Please" third trimester. I no longer tire quickly - I feel constantly exhausted. Walking up the stairs (or even down) or lifting up Felix (yes, you're allowed to carry toddlers during pregnancy) or picking up fallen things immediately leaves me out of breath. I feel super-heavy around the middle and only move at a waddle. It doesn't help that Felix is a bit high-maintenance at the moment. Or maybe I am and that makes me feel like he is. I'm also very easily irritable, and not even for good reasons (normally, of course, I only ever get annoyed with good reason ;)).

Blaaah. Whatever this is, I hope it's over soon and I can have a relaxed and content second trimester. (My iron levels are supposedly fine, although I currently have my doubts.)

(Happy icon used for ironic value.)
oloriel: (tolkien - family issues)
So my brother is in New Zealand. Or no, by now he'll be somewhere over Asia, but at any rate, he was in New Zealand for over a month.

That's good for him.

Less good is that he practically didn't keep in touch (he sent one short e-mail when he was on the ferry to the South Island, and then another short e-mail when he was on the ferry back to the North Island a couple of weeks later). NOW he apparently sent me an e-mail, which reached my Inbox last night at 3 am.

Now, my wild student and roleplaying days are over, so at 3 am, I do not check my e-mails.
So a bit later he sent a text message to my father, who - surprise, surprise! - doesn't check his text messages at 4:30 either, but read it later on when he got up and called me on his way to work. "Tom sent a text message - he asks whether you don't read your e-mails?"

"Not before breakfast, I don't," says I, but promise to check right away. I have a mild suspicion what it might be about, anyway.

And indeed: It's a (very nicely and creatively worded, I have to give him that) request whether I, in my boundless generosity, might pick him up at the airport tomorrow (Thursday) at 2 pm.

I'll probably do it (if I have a car at my disposal), but damn, dude, can't you think of these things earlier. Like, before you get on a plane and can't be reached or make alternative arrangements until you're already in Düsseldorf, thereby sort of guilting me into agreeing? I SHOULD MAKE YOU GO BY TRAIN AND BUS JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE SUCH A SUCKY PLANNER.
Haha, no, he's my brother and I know how annoying it is to get home by public transport after a full day's plane journey. But argh. How hard would it have been to organise this well in advance? He booked his flight home several months ago. Yes, yes, flights get cancelled or rescheduled all the time, but it'd still have been kinda useful to plan ahead.

Ngah.

[/First World Problems]
oloriel: (Og thinks you missed the point)


(This is another ramble that chose to manifest in my brain when I was trying to fall asleep the past two nights, and consequently kept me awake. I'm not sure it makes sense in the waking world, but lest it cost me another night of sleep, I'm gonna exorcise it... now.)

On this weekend's glorious 25th of May, according to some media, "Europe" (TM?) celebrated the "liberation from the yoke of Napoleon".

Now I understand why the contemporaries would have perceived it as liberation. Anything that is followed by peace may be viewed favourably (for a while). Combined with patriotism and xenophobia, this will make the removal of the Bad Foreign Oppressor (TM) look attractive. Liberation, huzzah!

I also understand why people busy in the Age of Sail fandom (for example) or in Living History would consider it something to celebrate, since they are dealing in the attitudes of the time, which can probably be summed up by Boney=Bad. If I identify strongly with Wellington, I'm not gonna be sad when Napoleon is gone. Liberation, huzzah!

The rest of "us", though... the mind boggles. You could think that Napoleon happened between two sparkling eras of farting unicorns and fairytale princesses, or in some sort of historical vacuum. Shall we try not to parrot the catchphrases of the day unreflected, but rather to look at it from a (relatively) neutral, (post-)modern, enlightened perspective for a second?

Yes, Napoleon was an ursurper; from all I've learned about the Reign of Terror, though, ending it cannot have been the worst thing to do. The "real" crime is, I suppose, not being happy as one of three consuls and eventually proclaiming oneself Emperor, a title to which one supposedly had no claim unless one were of royal blood, although of course technically the Latin world just means "one who rules", which certainly applied.
Yes, Napoleon was an aggressor; and even though war, in those days, didn't mean dropping bombs on cities in the hopes that the civilians would eventually tire of the situation and welcome peace in any form, Napoleon's style of foreign politics definitely claimed a lot of lives that might otherwise have gone on in relative peace and safety. Or not. But you know, who knows.

But then let's not forget the other great import, aside from La Grande Armée and Napoleon's ego: the Code Napoleon, based on the better results of the French Revolution. The idea of human rights, equally valid for all people, whether peasant or merchant or clergy or nobility: one law for all (including foreigners or people of other faith). The idea of separating church and state. The metric system. Right-hand traffic. The end (for the time being) of enforced ghettoisation, of corporal punishment (against people of legal age, at least - sorry, kids), of the feudal society...

In the early 19th century, no doubt the people celebrated the end of the Napoleonic era because they were tired of the constant wars (although, to be fair, at some point the anti-Napoleonic allies were at least as responsible for those as was Napoleon himself), and because Napoleon was Evil Because He Was French (i.e., Not From Here) and Evil Because He Gave Himself A Title He Wasn't Born To. Which may have been the prevailing attitude of those times.

But let us not pretend today that they did anything but trade a progressive (if foreign-imposed, OH NOES) government for a return under Prussian feudal overlordship. To me, this rather seems to be a huge step backwards. It's absurd to celebrate it and still call it "liberation" these days. It was the end of the Napoleonic era, no more, no less. It didn't magically ring in an age of butterflies and rainbows and gentle domestic kings, let alone of modern, dictator-safe democracy.

But if we, 200+ years after these events, still consider Napoleon the bad guy... why exactly do we expect the people of (say) Afghanistan to welcome NATO's introduction of Western Democracy (TM)?

Blaaaah.

Mar. 21st, 2013 06:54 pm
oloriel: (cut out this f*cking noise!)


The Flixster is sleeping.

I should be painting.

Well, I should be doing a lot of things. But on the recreational front, one of them is painting. Either Easter eggs (to give to various family members in a week's time), for obvious reasons, or the Prophecy of the North painting I started.

But I don't wanna. I've finished all the broad background work, now I have to tackle the finicky detail stuff, and I'm apparently not in the right mode for that. (Who knew I had different painting modes? Well, I found out that I do. I'm still in "some rough brushstrokes make a sea and wet-in-wet stick figures make a distant crowd" mode, and this is absolutely incompatible with faces and clothing and stuff. Don't know how to get myself into "finicky detail work" mode. Ruined Finarfin's face already. Blaaaaah.)

I think I'd like to do some gardening, but even if it weren't beginning to get dark-ish, there's still snow everywhere, so that's not a feasible option.
Of course, I could also work on some of my story WiPs, either fannish or original, but we're 21 days into B2MeM - I need a break.

All I seem to be able to do right now is read some senseless snippets or brief LJ entries and comments and stuff. Or chat maybe. I can't focus on anything longer. (This may actually have to do with being unable to focus on the process of painting the foreground figures? IDK.) I'm in a tumblr state of mind, it seems. But all my usual sources of senseless and/or brief snippets of information, entertainment or communications appear to be dried up just now.
Typical.

Whine, whine.

I hate it when I don't seem to be able to do anything useful (or even useless) with myself. Maaan, I'm almost 30. I really should have learned to pull myself together by now, no?

Apparently not.
Blaaaah.

Still not Spring.
oloriel: (for delirium was once delight)


... ist es immer noch aufwändiger, mit der Bahn von meinem Wohnort ins 500 km entfernte Dresden (Sachsen) zu kommen, als ins 800 km entfernte Leuk (Wallis, Schweiz). (Ersteres würde fast acht Stunden dauern und zweiteres geht in sechseinhalb. Das ist total logisch und einleuchtend, insbesondere, wenn man die Größe der beiden Orte miteinander vergleicht.)

Liebe (West-?)Deutsche Bahn, da war mal was mit Wiedervereinigung und so...

Bei der Gelegenheit habe ich allerdings festgestellt, dass ich lange Autofahrten bei weitem nicht mehr so leicht absitze wie früher. Ich bin drei mal mit dem Auto nach Leuk bzw. zurück gefahren (jeweils ca. 9 Stunden) und fand das anstrengend, aber machbar, auch wenn's mit Zwischenstop in Freiburg/Breisgau angenehmer war. Die fünf Stunden nach Freiberg-zwischen-Dresden-und-Chemnitz dagegen haben mich jetzt total fertig gemacht. Und das, obwohl Felix fast die ganze Zeit geschlafen hat und sehr friedlich war. Das war so die Grenze dessen, was ich noch durchstehe - aber mir brennen die Augen und der Nacken ist auch total verspannt. Man wird alt! O.ó
Nach Leuk fahr ich mit dem Zug. Geht schneller. Und ich muss mich nur aufs Umsteigen konzentrieren...
oloriel: (for delirium was once delight)


- A lovely four-day, four-generational vacation in the Black Forest, courtesy of my grandmother, for Felix, my mom and myself. (The others had to work, so they couldn't come.)

- Felix being an absolutely adorable person (though very clingy) and being adored by everyone. Because his adorability is totally my achievement. :P

- Coming back from said vacation and seeing the hubby again, though the poor soul is still sick (and still has to work too much)!

- Today's xkcd. How true. Sad yet funny.

- A sweet yet powerful letter to young people of the female persuasion that I found via metaquotes. I could sign it, basically. (Sometimes I wish I had a daughter so I could show her these things: Instead I have a son whom I can teach to believe these things, too. Which is good as well, I guess.)

- A fellow dA-er's rant about what she disliked about GoT. I know, I know, how petty of me to harp on about that topic, but it really bothered me that much.

So that's all nice. Who needs birthdays, really? (While I'm being petty anway...)
oloriel: (if there's no movie about it...)


Or: A conversation in the House of Stony

Moi*: Oh look now it's* on German TV. Let's have a look! I didn't enjoy the book much² but I heard good things about the series.
Husband*: Okay.
TV: *shows, shows, shows, shows*
Character A*: Who's my mom?
Character B*: We'll talk about her when we next meet.
Husband*: Well NOW he's definitely going to die.
Me*: I was not going to say anything.
Husband*: Elementary. Do we have to watch on? So far, everybody annoys me.
Moi*: Maybe it gets better after the break. Let's give it another chance.³
TV: *shows, shows, shows, shows*
Triple Episode: *ends*
Husband*: Well that was trite. Is it just me or is every single character a stereotype? Pretty images, but was it written by a ten-year-old? And what's with the costume design? That was horrible. I have no idea how a show can look simultaneously so expensive and so cheap.
Moi*: Darling, it's the two of us.
Baby*: *bedtime fussing!*
~OWARI~

*Names have been anonymised to protect the guilty.
²Understatement is sexy, baby.
³I REALLY was trying.
- - -

So it's official: No, I'm not impressed by the series either. Same issues and then some. I'm slightly gratified that teh husband shares my misgivings. Steering away from now on (though that rant still wants to be written. You're lucky, I don't have the time...)
Now I know what you people feel like when I endlessly ramble about some Tolkienic awesomeness that bores you to tears, I guess.
oloriel: (tried to get life; download terminated.)


One of my mother's childhood stories is how she came home from school one day and her neighbour was leaning out of the window and shouted "The pope is dead!"
And my mother went "Hah hah, yeah, six weeks ago."

The year was 1978 (how I wish I was in Sherbrooke now --- sorry), and there was, indeed, a papacy that lasted just a few weeks.

Seen like that, one and a half years of federal presidency don't look that shabby anymore, I suppose. But my goodness, we're rather going through heads of state right now, aren't we? Not that it's a genuinely important post, but it's still looking... odd. Instable, sort of. Banana republic.

I guess the funniest thing is that when Wulff was elected, there were many comments along the lines of "Yeah, he's boring, but at least he's too boring for scandals." Oh, hindsight!

And that's really all I've got to say on that topic, because I cannot even express how disinterested I am. Shame on me, yeah, I know, but... well. It's only the head of state, not the head of government, after all... ^^

- - -
*Very often, I find it hard to come up with a subject line for my posts. This time, the only trouble was deciding for one.

Briefly,

Sep. 12th, 2011 01:24 pm
oloriel: (and whither then I cannot say)


I feel that I have to sum up my feelings about yesterday, which are:

A) If I have to switch past yet another documentary on that topic, I'm gonna puke, srsly, it's getting cheap

and

B) Holy crap, ten years? WHERE DID THEY GO? I AM OLD!

No offense intended.

(If you must have a more thoughtful commentary from my side, you can go here or something. The personal stuff no longer applies (but it's kind of cute to see where I was back then), but the memories still hold true...)
oloriel: (hp - yeah whatever.)


Felix hat heute, im reifen Alter von 15 Tagen, per Post seine persönliche, lebenslange Steueridentifikationsnummer bekommen.

...

Heute ist ein ganz mieser Tag. Vor zwei Wochen habe ich versucht, ein viel zu großes Bündel Mensch durch einen viel zu engen Gang zu quetschen und ich bin immer noch wund davon. Das mit dem aufrechten Gang war eine beschissene Idee und die Evolution ist offensichtlich frauenfeindlich. Es ist mir ein Rätsel, wieso die Menschheit noch nicht ausgestorben ist.

Vom vielen Sitzen tut mir der Hintern weh, aber wenn ich zu viel laufe oder stehe, wird der Druck auf den Beckenboden allzu unangenehm und die Lochien wieder rot. Auch wenn es "WochenBETT" heißt: Ich kann doch nicht 40 Tage NUR liegen!

Wider aller Vernunft habe ich die ganze Zeit Angst, dass die Dammnähte reißen und sich mein gesamter Bauchhöhleninhalt über meine Füße ergießt.

Meine Brustwarzen sind wund und tun bei jeder Berührung weh. Trotzdem muss ich alle zwei bis drei Stunden ein ungeduldig schreiendes und schnappendes Baby dazu ermuntern, sie in den Mund zu nehmen und feste! feste! zu saugen. Und zwar sanft und geduldig, damit es überhaupt klappt. Auch, wenn ich gerade mitten aus einer Tiefschlafphase gerissen wurde und der Vater neben mir lautstark schnarcht.
"Wenn man es richtig macht", heißt es, "kann Stillen eine tolle Erfahrung für Mutter und Kind sein."
Ich mach's dann wohl falsch. Ich habe im Augenblick sowieso das Gefühl, alles falsch zu machen.

Ich habe seit über zwei Wochen nicht mehr normal geschlafen. Ich kann für Felix nahezu grenzenlos Geduld, Rücksicht und Fürsorge aufbringen, aber für niemanden sonst. Ich will meine Erschöpfung, meine Zweifel und meine Entnervtheit gegenüber allen anderen nicht mehr überspielen. Ich will mal NICHT dankbar sein. Ich will kein Verständnis aufbringen, ich will nichts klären müssen, und ich will keine Rücksicht nehmen. Wenigstens diese 40 Tage will ich mal ganz egoistisch, dass auf MICH Rücksicht genommen wird, und zwar egal, was sonst so anliegt.

Ich liebe den Kleinen. Ich liebe seinen Vater, und meistens kann ich sogar mich selbst ganz gut leiden, obwohl ich mich im Moment als ziemliche Versagerin fühle. Und natürlich wusste ich vorher, dass alles anders und sicher nicht ganz einfach wird. Und hab's so gewollt. Und irgendwann spielt sich alles ein und wird ganz wunderbar.
Aber heute ist ein mieser Tag. Und das muss auch mal gesagt werden.
oloriel: (Baby Stony)


Day 287. Still not mom. (Oh boy, that takes us back, doesn't it?)

- - -

The day before yesterday, there were some contractions that, while not exactly being painful, made my kidneys ache slightly and came with a vague sense of nausea. I got all excited and thought it was finally starting, but... obviously not.

Gynaecologist gave me a box of labour-supporting spice tea. Yesterday, I had onion pie for dinner (particularly active bowels may "inspire" the uterus to likewise take action, which is why one of the ingredients of the so-called "labour cocktail" is castor oil; I thought onion pie was somewhat more appetizing). Jörg is sick and moreover not particularly turned on by my bump, so sex is out. I've been trying to fake nesting attacks by mopping all the floors and cleaning the bathroom and all that, but it seems I'm fooling no one. Probably the child inherited his parents' stubbornness... and my procrastinatory tendencies :P

At least he is doing perfectly fine in there. The gyn encouraged me to wait until Sunday before going to the hospital again: no reason for a medical induction just yet. The new medical assistant at her practice, meanwhile, was so fascinated by my well-defined bump that she hardly managed to strap the CTG sensors on.

Jörg's mother told us (somewhat puzzled) that she dreamed about her late husband - Jörg's dad - visiting her, coming up the stairs, and giving her a present. Now Jörg is kind of convinced that the baby will arrive on the 22nd. It would've been his father's 75th birthday.

Meep.

Dec. 16th, 2010 11:48 am
oloriel: (hp - eeeeeeemo)


Today, the first exam results have been published. Most people have got the results of at least one exam. Some even know the results of two.
And some haven't got a single result yet.

Guess which group I belong to?

Yeah. [Image censored to protect the guilty.]

Next publication date: January 6th. Aside from the fact that I'm surprised that anyone at the university of the Holy Roman City Of Cologne is pretending to do anything work-like on Epiphany of all days*, that's so far away. I mean, that's like, NEXT YEAR! :p

I'd really hoped that at least one of the three professors might have made up their minds. Not surprised that Japanese professor isn't done yet, since she's got a shitload of work to do practically single-handedly (...), but the others don't quite have that excuse. And it's not like I wrote insanely lengthy essays. Twelve hand-written pages, that's not too much for a four-hour exam. Bah.

(Says the girl who managed to review exactly two stories for this year's MEFAs between *drumroll* June and December... :p)

To make things even better, office hour on Tuesday was cancelled due to illness. I don't mind that professors fall ill, that sort of thing happens. What I do mind is when I make my way to Cologne after heavy snowfalls, have to deal with the incompetence of Colognian drivers, manage to find a parking lot, rush into university, and THEN find a notice on the professor's door saying "Sorry, office hour cancelled". Dear professor's assistants: There were six people on the wait list. Each of them left their e-mail address in case of something going wrong. How much work would it have been to send an e-mail to these six people about the cancelled office hour?

And thus I don't know yet whether my choice of texts pleaseth the examiner. Could as well have procrastinated. :p

Don't I love being in Limbo.


- - -
*Cologne cathedral supposedly holds the bones of the Three Wise Men, so Epiphany is a bit of a Big Thing (TM) there.
oloriel: (tolkien - christmas. kind of.)


Was on the traditional pre-Christmas shopping spree with my grandmother. Things were acquired. New pants, for instance, which I'd never have bought for myself because of the price. Amusingly (and, I admit it, with a certain delight, because even I am a victim of the, um, "slenderness" trend) it fit one size smaller than what I usually wear. Not that it's going to last, but hey...

Came home while the snow chaos was still in Eastern Westphalia, and now that it's come here I already lit the furnace and started to cook. Poor hubby is still on the roads, though. On plus side, this time it's the nice airy powdery variant perfect for skiing, not the heavy sticky sort we got last week

While I was cooking, I suddenly heard strange "bonk, bonk" noises from the living-room. Went to check, and what was going on there?
Well. Before I had started to cook, I'd checked my advent calendar, which today contained a chocolate shaped like a swan. I had decided to keep the chocolate for after dinner and set it aside, then went to the kitchen and started making meat loaf.
In the meantime, the cats had returned from outside, and after the obligatory story about starving cats they keep telling me, they slunk off to the fireplace. Except that 'náro took a detour via the table, apparently, and stole that chocolate swan. Fortunately he was still in the hunting stage, not in the eating stage, when I discovered the theft (chocolate is pretty bad for cats), and I managed to steal the swan back. I think I'll have to find something else for dessert, though...

Tomorrow, office hour with oral exam prof. Three topics, six books, eight essays and 2000 lines of Middle English poetry will have to be agreed upon. Fun times never end.
oloriel: (paniku)


When I went into the whole final exam thing - that is, when I registered for the whole mess - I was having a fairly good relationship with academia. As in, when people asked (as some people were prone to do) whether I was considering to add a PhD. after my M.A., I said "Sure, if the opportunity offers itself, I think that would be cool."

At the moment - having writen my thesis, and having taken the first written exam, and ten hours before the second written exam - I am having a lot of second thoughts.

Well, firstly I am doubting that the opportunity is going to offer itself. I am not even certain that I'll manage the bloody M.A., not because I am stupid but because I function the wrong way. Even if I manage to pass, it definitely won't be with the grand results I've been secretly expecting (and this is not just my usual pessimism; with the grade I got for my thesis, I'd have to write positively brilliant exams and excel at the oral exam, something I have always been naturally bad at, in order to still get a 1.something grade*. Not likely.). Nobody is going to come to me going "You know, we have this postgraduate office to fill, would you like it?" Nobody is going to ask me to write my Ph.D. thesis under their tutelage.

And I am pretty certain that I am not going to struggle for some postgraduate university job or a Ph.D. supervisor myself, at the moment. I am, at the moment, so sick of academia. In the past weeks, I have been reading a shitload of texts that were obviously just published because someone somewhere had to write it in order to keep their job. I have read a shitload of texts that were practically just a review of previous research, the sort that students have to do (without getting paid for it) for classroom presentations. Or where four pages of a six-page thesis discuss the history and use of a certain term, the validity of said history, and the use the present author is going to make of the term in the face of said history and for what reasons. Then follow one and a half pages with some illustrative examples, and a conclusion along the lines of "fascinating topic, further research necessary". I know that these people aren't doing this to make me roll my eyes. They're doing it because it's academic convention, and because they're working in a publish-or-perish system where instead of the common-sense "If you don't have anything to say, just keep your mouth shut" the rule is "If you don't have anything new to say, sum up something old". And make it sound important. And make it sound like you believe it.
And at the moment, that is not what I want to do with my life.

A few years ago, I was reading a book by Pam Houston. It was full of autobiographic episodes, and one of them concerned how one day she was standing in the office at her university, waiting for a signature on the final credit certificate she needed in order to qualify for her final exams, and she overheard two of her professors utterly absorbed in a discussion about the difference between (I think) "immanent" and "innate". And one of them, she knew, had serious personal trouble in his private life, and here he stood discussing "immanent" and "innate" as if anything depended on it.
And she quietly turned, and left the office and her certificate behind. And she never returned.
At the time of reading, I thought something along the lines of, "Wow, way to throw the efforts of the past years away." I mean, she had ploughed through 95% of her university career. Even if she now realised that it was all pretty pointless, couldn't she have done the final 5%? Tsk, really.

But right now? Right now I really, really sympathise. Right now, I look at people discussing the difference between "postcolonialism" and "post-colonialism" for four pages as if anyone cared. And I think, I can live without that. I do not need to be able to rehash a lot of problem-mongering only a fraction of which actually matters to anyone outside of academia, and most of which doesn't even matter to academics. I can read and enjoy books without knowing what literary theorists think about them. I can write stories that some people like, and I can paint pictures that some people think good, and I can travel and think and grow plants and restore an old farmhouse and design things and sew historical clothing and -- I can do all this without all that.
And I am so, so tempted to just throw it and skip the rest of the exams and extract myself from the Matrix exmatriculate and do - well, something that makes at least a small bit of sense. Something that doesn't force me to pretend that the difference between postcolonialism and post-colonialism matters. Something that doesn't force me to pretend that knowing the half-cooked opinions of Sigmund Freud enhances my understanding of Shakespeare's work just because someone who never left her ivory tower thinks so and I have to please her in order to pass.

I won't throw it. I am going to leave university, but I'll do it with an M.A. degree in my pocket. I'll do the final 5% because even if at the moment it all feels not only pointless but actively repulsive, I suppose even a bad M.A. may be of use. I'll do it because I am not a quitter, and I can still try and do something that makes at least a small bit of sense come January. I have wasted so many years, I can waste two more months.

And perhaps in a year I'll feel differently, and I'll feel the urge to discuss immanence and innateness and postcolonialism and post-colonialism, or the Freudian Uncanny² in Shakespeare's comedies, or whether Beowulf was composed orally or in writing. And then I can return into academia because I'll be a postgraduate and all set to go.

But at the moment, I don't think I'll want to. And at the moment, I am almost envying Pam Houston for the courage to just throw it overboard, to turn her back on all the bullshitting and all the do-gooder self-flagellation and all the "We cannot solve the problem, but we are really aware of it!", and to do something else entirely.
I am definitely envying her for landing on her feet and being a published author these days. ^^

Eh well. Time for bed.


- - -
*Note on academic grades in Germany: 1.0 is the best passing grade, 4.0 is the worst. You do not have to understand our system.

²And you don't want to get me started on the Uncanny. The entire notion is based on an etymological assumption that is not actually tenable. And literary critics my exam professor still believes it.
Sometimes - and I know that this is embarrassing and arrogant - I think that it's not that I'm too stupid for all this. Sometimes I think I'm too smart.
oloriel: (japanese.)


Thanks to all for your well-wishes! I don't know whether they helped yet, as we'll only get the results from mid-December onwards. But surely they did!

Translation consisted of four sentences - one extremely simple (室町時代は鎌倉時代の次に来る時代です。), the rest of increasing length and (grammatical, not contentual) complexity. Not certain at all whether I managed to crack the final two, particularly the last. Am v. glad that I did the translation first - I'd initially thought half an hour should be ok - ended up taking an hour and still hadn't done the last sentence. Put it aside, wrote essay (which, as I had thought I'd only need half an hour for the translation, got a little rushed), tried again. Hope I managed to get some sense into it.

As for the essay... as usual, once the first brain-void after an exam is gone, all the doubts come rushing in: Did I mention this and that? I should have elaborated on the classifications! Oh crap, it's probably way too superficial, I should've used less examples and covered them more in-depth... The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced it's crap. Accordingly, I try not to think about it. It's not like I can change anything now anyway.

My brain is so fried that, when my virus scanning program asked me whether it should check a newly added hard disk for malware, I read it wrongly. See, it talked to me in German and capitalised "malware" (because in German, all nouns are capitalised), so I... pronounced it in German in my head. Mull-vare-ey. And thought, "Huh, Malwárë, cool Elvish name." (A little unfortunate, maybe: malwárë in Quenya would mean "pale day" or "pale dawn"; whenever a day dawns pale-ly in literature, there's going to be a battle or someone is going to die or somesuch...) "I'm totally going to use that."
And then I realised, you know, that it meant malware, and felt slightly foolish. Obsessed fangirl much?

Also, have a headache and slept really badly - not due to exams, but due to my parents inviting us out to eat yesterday to a restaurant that... um... disappointed slightly. Shouldn't eat so healthily: I'm no longer used to food junk and my body reacts really badly to it. Glutamate-induced headache + light sensitivity: No fun at all. Did I mention the dry mouth and throat, too?

Other than that, still alive. Now preparing for Anthropology exam. Fun times.
oloriel: (mean lean writing machine)


Japanese Studies professor: Still awesome. Can I please replace all my other professors with clones of her? Well maybe not all, but my English (my major, augh augh augh) professors, or at least the literature one? Pretty please?

In other news, people keep talking about NaNo and my fingers are itching to participate again but doing NaNo on top of exams - in the very same month - would be such an incredibly lousy idea that not even I will try it. *le sigh* Figures, of course, that I was jumped by a story idea a few days ago - and for a change, it would be not fantasy, and not in English!
(To be honest it's actually a business idea, not a story idea, but playing the idea through in my head led to the conclusion that I'd stumble from one difficulty to the next in my attempts to do everything right so it'd be nothing but a series of desasters. Don't think I'm ready to do that to myself in real life; there is nothing, however, that can keep me from doing it to fictional characters, mwahahahahah!

Except for exams, of course. Ngah.)

In yet other news, since sewing and reading is very much compatible if you have Bad Sewing Machine Karma (TM) anyway, I'm having a bit of a sewing flash. Today I used a break to search for patterns for a Royal Aerial Corps Regency uniform coat. I don't usually sew with patterns since you don't usually find anything useful for the sort of stuff I do anyway, but I thought that this time I should have a look since those uniform coats are a) somewhat more complicated than pseudo-medieval gowns and b) really common in street carnival, so surely high-quality patterns for the real thing would be easy to find in Cologne of all places.

No; they're crap. (As are the patterns for Regency women's clothing, which has a reeeeally distinctive sort of cut for (especially) the back, which these patterns... didn't have. Instead, they have zippers. ZIPPERS, I ASK YOU.) "Easy-to-do", modernised crap. I can get better patterns for free on the internet. Heck, I can get better patterns if I go into some museum with 18th century stuff and do some sketches*, and I am no good with pattern-making at all.

Not, apparently, as "no good" as people who make carnival costumes, however. Are people who do LARP and/or re-enactment the only non-professional costume makers with a sense of honour ambition authenticity quality I dunno? *weeps*

- - -
*For which reason this is not a request for anyone to go and get a pattern for me. I would not normally add this but it has happened to me before, so this time I explicitly say that I do not want one. I know where to get one. I just thought this way I'd be able to escape the mathematics. If escaping the mathematics results in cheap cop-outs, though, I'll take the math, thankee...

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