Finally! We're good to go!

I feel like this has been coming for years. I sent another draft of my thesis proposal to my dad. He wrote back:

I've read the proposal. Barring a few errors, it sounds okay. I will read it again before Monday to see if any further fine-tuning can be done.

HURRAH! This is high praise, and means that on Monday (when I work myself into the ground 'fine-tuning') I can send it off to my potential supervisor to get more editing before it's submitted. Then I wait to find out if I'm allowed to go ahead. The joy of hoop jumping.

A few people have tried to put me off, telling me horror stories about how hard research is.

To them I say "Shut-up. I'm a librarian, and I know other librarians." Thanks to my colleagues I have access to records and primary sources that I would never have even dreamed of. Plus, now that a few of the super-smart people know about my interest, they keep coming up with helpful items. It's rad, because they're always on target. I haven't had anything that's useless to me. And none of them even bothered to conduct a reference interview. Unless they did it without me noticing...

Anyway, things that I must do include:

1. Write the bibliography as I go. Also, I must cite things properly. This always seems to be my downfall. I make lousy notes, then freak out months later.

2. Make good use of my time. I have hour long lunch breaks. That's a lot of time that gets wasted. Plus, when I get home I tend to watch Mr G play his guitar (I know, it's weird). I should probably stop doing that.

3. Set a reasonable target. A certain number of words per day. That's how I got through my undergrad, and that's how I'll deal with this.

I am so madly excited that I'm going to explode!

Thanks idiot

Hmmm. I managed to set my hotmail up so it deleted emails. A bunch of emails. That I haven't read, or even seen. This explains an annoyed text I got asking why I haven't responded. Responded to what?

Worst part is, it's not hotmail's fault, it's mine. I am a muppet. I tried to be fancy, made a group of friends, then I blocked them all. By accident - in case that wasn't obvious.

I am also amused that it took me this long to figure it out. Why didn't anyone crack it sooner? Why didn't I add my mum to that group? She has a tendancy to text me after every email alerting me to the fact that something is there, waiting for me.

Thank heavens I still have gmail. Which is full of nothing but spam because nobody ever bothers to email me there.

Plus, I wrote this weeks ago, but didn't post it because the posting 'failed'. I hate emails and I hate the internet and I hate everything AND I have very sore arms.

The End.

Melbourne History

Today's fun historical picture comes from a book called 'Footscray's first fifty years' by H. Michell, published in 1909.

I was having a lovely time researching Footscray, when this lovely picture caught my eye.

Hairdresser, Tobacconist & Fancy Goods Dealer

"Sir, I need me some fancy goods!"

Snow peas and a lovely new garden

I grew snow peas! Lovely little snow peas! They were delicious. I'd been ignoring the plant because it had fallen over and quite frankly, I was sick of trying to weave it in and out of the dodgy frame it was leaning against. Plus, most people who grow snow peas had their crop ages ago, while my plant was looking miserable.

Foolish Miss A. It had fallen over because it was covered in yummy goodness! Goodness is heavy.

There's something beautiful about growing food. When the first shoot pokes through a plain patch of dirt, it's delicate and sweet looking. It's hard to believe that such a tiny thing will produce food.

I love having my own yard. We had the super lovely Dan from Very Edible Gardens come out to do a permaculture design. I'm getting an orchard, chickens and a few vege beds. Best of all, I get all the things I love to eat. Including blueberries. It all seems a little bit unreal, and I asked for what I thought was impossible, but Dan was magic. He even included an area for the chapel and declared to Mr G that it was practical. HA HA HA! A serious promise is a serious promise. Even if it's completely mad.

I was a little surprised at how well the consultation went. I had time to ask all of my questions and Dan answered them without making me feel stupid. I know I want to be very hands-on and build my garden myself, but part of me now wants to use VEG to do it for me. Maybe I can bring them in at crucial points. Like planting time. And pruning time. And chicken buying time.

Anyway. Baby steps. I have a shovel and I've eaten my snow peas. Very exciting.

Close call

I was two seconds away from writing a tragic apologetic email to Mr N. I blame Mr C, tonight he's been talking about books and he asked me to recommend some. I thought of Mr N and felt all sad and puppy faced. Why can't I just apologise and ask if we can be friends? Is that so bad? I miss him!

Then, I read Hawm's post:

As human beings we take perverse pleasure in wallowing in our own pain and misery. Rather than let the scab heal we keep picking at it. We read text messages/emails/letters from people who’ve hurt us. We listen to music, watch movies/tv shows, read books they recommended when they were still part of our lives.

It was the books part that got me. Clever Hawm. Defending the mental health of his friends without even knowing it.

Something secret

While I did announce my engagement to Mr G, I never said how it happened. I suppose I was keeping it close, but then I realised that even though it is unfortunate and rather pathetic, this is my journal. So, I should write it down so that in 5 or 50 years time I can remember things clearly. Plus, if I don't include it, the end of year adventure summary is going to be incomplete.

So, after working out our differences (more accurately, my commitment problems), we decided to go away to Red Hill for our anniversary. I was really getting quite excited about it because I love Red Hill. But I wasn't expecting anything. I KNEW that he wouldn't propose, he told me that he'd never do it on a special day because I'd suspect that, and more specifically, he didn't want to be stressed out on our anniversary.

We stayed the night at his parents place (house-sitting) and when we woke up the next morning I was massively excited. I really adore Red Hill. It's a lovely area. So Mr G goes upstairs to get his stuff and the doorbell rings. I had a weird moment where I wondered what Ita would do - is it rude to open the door when it's not your house? Anyway, I saw two figures, realised that it must be the older ladies next door and thought it best to let them in.

Surprise! It was Mr and Mrs K&S, who asked if I was alright, then handed me a ransom note that had been left with them. Mr G had been kidnapped! By a ninja heatpack I use. Apparently I hadn't paid him enough attention and he was seething with jealousy. To get Mr G back I would have to solve Ninji's riddles. Off we went, to eat breakfast and solve the clues. Turns out that the clues were in Japanese, as were the answers. Ninji, knowing that my knowledge of Japanese is rather limited, provided a cheat-sheet.

The clue gave me the location of the next stop - my favourite cafe in the city, Rue Bebelons (love it love it love it. The place is sweet and cosy, they never charge for soy, and the staff are charming). There, I met Miss J, who sat me down for a coffee and provided me with my next clues. We had a good chat - a little too short in my opinion, then off I went to the Chinatown gates to meet Ninji's henchman. The dastardly Mr R.

He appeared out of nowhere, wearing a fake moustache - the man who introduced me to Mr G and played wingman to us both. He took me for lunch at a Japanese restaurant, where we figured out the last clue. Actually, that's a lie. I couldn't work it out so Mr R told me. Mr G was to be released on the steps of the State Library. If I made it there by 2pm.

I dashed off and bolted up the stairs and Mr G leapt out from behind the pillars. I was so delighted I'm pretty sure I was jumping. He gave me a big hug. Then he told me there was one more surprise in my pocket. I was slightly confused because I knew I had some lip balm there, but sure enough there was a little box.

Clever me. I finally figured it out. And yes, I did panic a bit, but in a good way. I'm not entirely sure about the next part, but I do remember that to make it official Mr G used all of my names, which was a pretty good effort.

Now, the nicest thing about this was the ring. He had taken my grandmother's diamond earring, driven to my old home town and found my high school metalwork teacher. They had set the earring into a ring from there. I was especially pleased that the three people who have changed my life for the better were involved. The ring means something to me beyond the obvious. Also, Mr G has a nice plain silver engagement ring to wear as well.

The engagement party is coming up fast. I am not one for parties (not large ones anyway), but I am looking forward to seeing all my friends. I hope Mr C can make it, he lives so far away now. He's promised to come to the wedding no matter what, so I suppose I can overlook the engagement party.

Anyway, we're trying to negotiate where we'll go for the honeymoon. I want to go to Greece and Turkey (surprise surprise), he wants to go to Japan. We're toying with South America or Canada now.