Rules for writing a thesis

350 words in, and I'm back here.

Worse, I just had a major panic that I'd mixed up monotheistic and polytheistic in my proposal. Getting those wrong kind of messes up the entire thing. Turns out I did get it right. I jammed the word mono-cultural in as well and that just blew my head apart when I was doing a re-read. Which, you should never do, unless you want to be brought to tears in the local public library.

I feel like I'm a bit adrift.* Last time I had another Miss A and Mr N holding my hand all the way through. Now it's just me. I mean, I have people who will help, but nobody to provide intensive emotional support. Who will nudge me away from the cliffs of insanity** and explain that I've mixed up my paragraphs? Who will bring me cookies? Who will fix my punctuation???

I'M GOING TO EITHER DIE OR FAIL. I might do both.

Still, I've set myself some rules in the hope that I can beat procrastination.

- 400 words per writing session.
- 2 writing sessions a week.
- 1 session straight after breakfast on Saturday. Nothing like a training session to get you thinking!
- if I get to 1000words in a session, I'll let myself spend $100 in a frivolous manner.
- if I don't manage to do my 2 session, or my 400 words per session, I'll pop $20 into my money tin. I'm now saving to go hiking in South America.

Freaking excellent. No matter which way this goes, I can't lose. Although, considering I have no money right now, I'd better crank out another 50 words.

*HA HA HA HA. Adrift. Pirates. HA HA HA
**Great movie. Just saw it at the Astor

Birthday panic!

My birthday is coming up very quickly.

I haven't decided what to buy myself yet, but I thought of a few options. Considering I have no time to figure out any major trips, these might have to do.

1. Spanish lessons. The second I wrote that down, I remembered that I am meant to be writing a paper, starting a thesis and fixing a house. Can I also manage Spanish lessons?

2. Dance classes. Salsa? I do get freaked out by weird men, so unless I can find a partner to come, I'm not sure if this will work. Actually, this pisses me of, because if Mr N were here, I'd ask him, because at least I'd feel comfortable dancing with him. I may just have to accept that private classes might be the way to go. It'll cost a fortune.

3. Proper woodworking equipment. That could be cool. I could take one of those day courses at our local TAFE to get back up to speed. After all, I have an epic structure to build.

Mariachi El Bronx

Last night I saw Mariachi El Bronx play at Billboard. They were brilliant, and I loved every second of their set.

Vasco Era were supporting, and to be honest, I thought they were rubbish. They sounded like a cross between Silverchair (around the time of Frogstomp) and Ween, only worse. But that's my opinion. I have been known not to understand some types of music. A friend of mine has a band that I just don't get. I really tried, because he's a lovely fellow, but in the end I had to just shrug in confusion.

Anyway, forget the terrible Vasco Era ordeal. They were only on for half an hour (the end of their set was met with a bit of delight from other people too).

So, the set was introduced against a sexual time-line. Matt Caughthran said that Mariachi El Bronx was going to make love to us all. It was VERY funny. As he started talking about unbuttoning our blouse, he suddenly stopped and shouted 'I'm trying to be sexy here!' I think he was being heckled from the front :-D

It was a great night. I'm not surprised it was sold out. I'm going to be all over tickets if they come back. I can't wait for the next time.

A pretty great date

I went on a date this weekend at Mi Corazon, a tequila bar in Brunswick. It was awesome.

I had this crazy cinnamon cocktail, then the pork tacos. Company was great, food was great, venue was great. I am one of those dreadful women that expects to have the night paid for. Unless I suggest the date in the first place, then it's on me. I think that's fair, but each to their own.

Two things that stopped it all being perfect (although it was damn close and I'm being very picky!)

1. He should be there before I am. I hate walking into a place and not seeing the person that I'm supposed to dine with. Yes, this is seriously retentive, but I'm fussy. Too fussy to exist really.

2. He should never finish his meal well before mine. It's a bit sigh-worthy (not in the nice way) when you're still eating and he's sitting there patiently. I hate it when people watch me eat.

And now that I've read that, I feel like a lunatic. Still, it's good advice.

Leaving children in libraries

There's a debate raging on the mamamia website about leaving children unattended in libraries. I very stupidly got involved. First I read, then I wrote. Imagine my surprise when I realised that the people on there are continually ignoring what the actual librarians are saying - don't leave your kids in libraries alone.

But what did I expect? We deal with parents on a daily basis. Some are awesome, some are completely unhinged. We know it's no different online. Everyone thinks their kid is fine. Most middle to upper class parents (and lets face it, I think I know who the target demo is) think their child is a perfect angel. Bookish, smart, well-behaved.

BULLSHIT.

I was a very bookish, smart and well-behaved pre-teen. It didn't stop me cutting up a book that had nice pictures in it when I was 5. It also didn't stop me eating paper. It certainly didn't stop me reading some rather inappropriate things (Gore Vidal's Caligula for one). And I was supervised (clearly not well enough).

'My darling child would NEVER do anything like that. They know the boundaries'.

Well. I've read the debate, and both the author and publisher seem to be ignoring the fact that their kids might not be as perfectly behaved for us as they are for them.

Anyway. Mia is no Cherry. And that's my mean comment for the day.

Nothing to do, nobody to do it with

Mr G's been away for 4 nights now.
I've gone feral. He rang me yesterday and couldn't stop laughing at how happy I was to hear from him. He was less pleased when I told him that I make quite a good single person. I think his words were 'don't go getting any ideas'. Funny how I see single life as writing and going out with friends, while he worries about other men!
Poor thing. He should worry less about the local talent and more about my laptop. We're an item, attached at the fingertips. Actually, I once dated someone online, but that was my old computer. This one is too grown-up for such behaviour. Anyway, this is clearly a nonsense post. Written because I'm somewhat lonely. It'll pass.

2011 - I think I finally did it

It only just occurred to me that not only have I neglected to do my yearly report, but I may have finally had the year of Miss A.

Every year I try so hard to make sure the 12 month stretch is magnificent, but it never seems to work out. Even when I was hopping about the globe things weren't quite there. But now, for the rest of my life I can sit in my Chesterfield, smoke my hand-carved pipe and ponder the most excellent year that was 2011.

Triumphs:

1. Finished a great job. Moved straight to another great job as a real life librarian.
2. Bought a house.
3. Got engaged.
4. Landed a permanent job in my dream area.
5. Kept my uni friends
6. Made some fancy work friends. If I combine my uni crew and my work buddies I have a social life! More importantly, one that I like!
   
7. Grew snowpeas. And strawberries.
   
8. Started to bake. Muffins, cookies and cupcakes. There was even a burnt and collapsed cake in there. Well done me.
   
9. Got fitter and stronger. The best part about this is that my life is so much easier now. I've decided to keep my trainer for good. Or at least until he finishes uni.
   

Lousy stuff:

1. Mr N isn't talking to me. Of course, this is sort of a good thing because we can both live our lives without the other person taking up space and thought time. But really, it makes me sad so it's in the lousy stuff pile. Really, this has been the only proper crap thing about 2011.
   
2. I'm living far away from Brunswick. I love Brunswick. I love the breakfast. I love the weird guys in skinny jeans. I love the ladies in their 1950s dresses. Still, I wanted a garden and I have a car.
3. Baking is expensive and it makes me fat. However, the finished products are also delicious and make me feel very capable.
   

All in all, an excellent year. The rotten things all have good sides.

Things for the new year:

1. Buy better librarian glasses. Mine are crap because my dad chose them. That's what happens when your father pays for everything (this was 4 years ago mind you).
2. Learn to do my hair properly. A few weeks ago Mr G's sister transformed my hair from a feral scribble into a sleek and sexy up-do. I think it's about time I learned to do it myself. I'm also going to throw away my gross-person clothes. I may need some help.
   
3. Transform my yard from a swampy, neglected, cat-riddled monstrosity into a productive play garden, fit for a wedding. It comes with a little puppy who shall be called Argo.

I'll be 28 this year. I have 3 years left until the major event year.