Not much of an Avril Lavigne-fan (though she's not quite as annoying as Blunt), but the title covers my feelings these days.
Parts of my life I'm happy with: work, university (not even procrastinating or anything)
Parts of my life I'm not happy with: home.
Somewhere in between: my writing, which has come to a halt due to more pressing obligations (cf. 'parts I'm happy with') - not overly concerned on this front, though.
I suppose/hope this is a somewhat incomprehensible post (elaboration is not an option), but I have to post it, anyway, because I can't present things as rosy, when they no longer are.
Love, happiness, and a host of enriching experiences to all
Anna
Friday, September 28, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Kroe: Elevation (woohoo)
It's not that the past few days have not been exciting. If anything, they've been even more exciting than I could have imagined -and that's saying something. Still, once I get home, after a long day in Ghent, first at the uni, then at the office - I feel unbelievably exhausted.
To be quite honest, it kind of gnaws at my energy levels, to be this excited & bubbly all day long (yes, Paul, it's me saying this; you think I was boisterous a year ago... let's just say your cluelessness is endearing). And yet, there's not much I think I can or want to do about it.
Put another way, my meeting with my new supervisor was everything I could have hoped for and more. As a result, my brain has been working non-stop, and I now have the basic structure for the new dissertation. Please refrain from being overly impressed, as you read this. Thinking up new projects - with a balanced structure and all - is my precious brain's bread and butter. If I had a say in the matter, it's all I'd ever do. Trouble is, in life, there's this tiny little requirement of execution. Such a drag, really, but it's there, all the same.
Anyway, inevitably, I'll soon be posting more about the topics covered in my dissertation, simply because my obsessiveness (see Freddie, Feddie, and everything/ everyone in between) is starting to zero in on everything related to DMThomas, ethics& trauma in fiction, ....
(Sigh) I love the analysing bit.
Eager & exhausted Axxx
To be quite honest, it kind of gnaws at my energy levels, to be this excited & bubbly all day long (yes, Paul, it's me saying this; you think I was boisterous a year ago... let's just say your cluelessness is endearing). And yet, there's not much I think I can or want to do about it.
Put another way, my meeting with my new supervisor was everything I could have hoped for and more. As a result, my brain has been working non-stop, and I now have the basic structure for the new dissertation. Please refrain from being overly impressed, as you read this. Thinking up new projects - with a balanced structure and all - is my precious brain's bread and butter. If I had a say in the matter, it's all I'd ever do. Trouble is, in life, there's this tiny little requirement of execution. Such a drag, really, but it's there, all the same.
Anyway, inevitably, I'll soon be posting more about the topics covered in my dissertation, simply because my obsessiveness (see Freddie, Feddie, and everything/ everyone in between) is starting to zero in on everything related to DMThomas, ethics& trauma in fiction, ....
(Sigh) I love the analysing bit.
Eager & exhausted Axxx
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Kissy: Man I wish I could come up with good titles: mmm Great Greek Cooking
Hiya
First of all yes I would absolutely love any Greek recipes you can provide me, with I love great and Paul keep threatening to kidnap Anna's mum so she can could for us. Kroe do you think some of your mum's dishes or your stew and stuff are air postable.
About the reading list, haven't had time to look at it yet, but will get around to it after this post. Can't really tell you much about chch library clientèle as they are so different, divers and seek so many different things. Do appreciate your list though Anna
Cheers
Kissyfur
First of all yes I would absolutely love any Greek recipes you can provide me, with I love great and Paul keep threatening to kidnap Anna's mum so she can could for us. Kroe do you think some of your mum's dishes or your stew and stuff are air postable.
About the reading list, haven't had time to look at it yet, but will get around to it after this post. Can't really tell you much about chch library clientèle as they are so different, divers and seek so many different things. Do appreciate your list though Anna
Cheers
Kissyfur
kroe: Freddy sings 'I love you for your silence'
Now that I'm hardly ever alone, here at home, I no longer have the luxury of hearing my own thoughts. Hence, my post today will be shockingly concise, even though there's lots of exciting news to share (only Liesbeth is more or less in the know - well, she and my boy D, obviously).
(Leasle, remember to breathe - it is definitely not what you're thinking)
I guess we'll have to wait for Monday, when I get more info and get really over-excited. So much so, that I'm confident the gentle, yet ever-babbling voices in the living room, will be temporarily blocked within the realm of my head, clearing the path for the sound of me.
Till then, then & love to all
Kroe xxx
-------------------------------------------
The sound of me & anticipations of over-excitedness be damned, here goes (patience is definitely not my forte):
It has been confirmed to me on Thursday that, as long as I'm still an official student, I am allowed to drop one dissertation topic for another. And so, I have contacted one of my fave uni teachers of old - not yet a professor, the lad's all of 30 years old- and I'm taking an extra long lunch break on Monday, so as to see him and discuss the dissetation I will be writing, with him as my supervisor.
The two things that excite me most are:
1. I get to write a dissertation in the field of English literature (which, I have come to realise/admit to myself, turns out to be my most enduring passion), wih a topic I have selected myself (DM Thomas' White Hotel and the aesthetic/moral ideas of TS Eliot on the one hand and Adorno on the other - maybe a bit of Eco thrown in, to mix it all up)
2. I like SC personally, and I know I would never treat him the way I've treated the professors I admired, but only knew from afar.
(3. Having contemplated dropping out entirely, I no longer feel the pressure to deliver for my dear dear friends or anyone else not named A.A. - euhm... make that Anna A., 'coz there's two of us, I always seem to forget)
peace, and Leasle, it's absolutely lovely to have you back xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Axxx
(Will be on the look-out for Paul and his evil plans to abduct my mummy :-p )
(Leasle, remember to breathe - it is definitely not what you're thinking)
I guess we'll have to wait for Monday, when I get more info and get really over-excited. So much so, that I'm confident the gentle, yet ever-babbling voices in the living room, will be temporarily blocked within the realm of my head, clearing the path for the sound of me.
Till then, then & love to all
Kroe xxx
-------------------------------------------
The sound of me & anticipations of over-excitedness be damned, here goes (patience is definitely not my forte):
It has been confirmed to me on Thursday that, as long as I'm still an official student, I am allowed to drop one dissertation topic for another. And so, I have contacted one of my fave uni teachers of old - not yet a professor, the lad's all of 30 years old- and I'm taking an extra long lunch break on Monday, so as to see him and discuss the dissetation I will be writing, with him as my supervisor.
The two things that excite me most are:
1. I get to write a dissertation in the field of English literature (which, I have come to realise/admit to myself, turns out to be my most enduring passion), wih a topic I have selected myself (DM Thomas' White Hotel and the aesthetic/moral ideas of TS Eliot on the one hand and Adorno on the other - maybe a bit of Eco thrown in, to mix it all up)
2. I like SC personally, and I know I would never treat him the way I've treated the professors I admired, but only knew from afar.
(3. Having contemplated dropping out entirely, I no longer feel the pressure to deliver for my dear dear friends or anyone else not named A.A. - euhm... make that Anna A., 'coz there's two of us, I always seem to forget)
peace, and Leasle, it's absolutely lovely to have you back xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Axxx
(Will be on the look-out for Paul and his evil plans to abduct my mummy :-p )
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Kroe: Kissy kissy kiss kiss
Don't have any inspiration whatsoever, just wanted to say: Leasle, I really appreciate your being here a lot more, of late. And I'm sure I'm not the only one, appreciating it ;-)
Love
Axxx
PS. Congratz on becoming a full-fledged librarian. It's so you.
Love
Axxx
PS. Congratz on becoming a full-fledged librarian. It's so you.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Kroe: Teo torriate
So my silence was fun while it lasted.
Don't really have a lot of thoughts to share, this very instant (which is frustrating because I catch myself all the time -whenever I'm away from the computer- thinking to myself: this would make for an intersting discussion, and this even more).
Anyway, there are two things I' like to share with you.
The first concerns The White Hotel. I've actually made some progress, and it really is an enjoyable read, once you get past the hysteria (p. 30-130). I don't know, I suppose my failure to 'enjoy' that particular bit, is probably connected to real-life tendencies and childhood litter remaining in my own precious head (which is why I ordered Lfee to stay away from it - but I'm afraid she might be someone who responds to her friends' well-meaning orders they way I do... So... sorry, love, if I've, in effect, made you read it).
Anyway, reading the bit I'll be quoting below, I was reminded of you lot, and your thoughts/opinions concerning me, the past couple of weeks:
However, it soon became apparent that, far from having thrown off her hysteria, it had simply changed direction. Whereas before, it had sapped her bodily strength wih fierce pangs, yet let her mind rational, now it had released her body at the cost of her mind. Her unbridled talkativeness soon gave evidence of wild irrationality. Her cheerfulness was the desperate humour of soldiers joking in the trenches; and her efforts at a sustained discussion drifted into a dreamlike monologue, almost a hypnotic trance. Before, she had been miserable but sensible; now she was happy and demented. (D.M.Thomas (1981), The White Hotel: p. 103)
I couldn't suppress a smile, as I read this part. It also reminded me, as I have so often been reminded, of the words my teacher of old, G.C., once spoke: 'Have you ever considered that there's no coincincidence involved, when you pick the books you wind up reading?'
The second bit I wanted to share with you is that, as much as I love having a job, nevermind that particular job in that particular environment, I do feel I need more rest, these days. Which is why I have decided to take it slowly, from now on, on the inetrnet. I can't promiss that I'll keep up with the daily emailing and stuff, nor with the daily blogging. And don't know how much recovery time I actually do need (I'll probably still manage three days a week - just not 6 to 7... takes up too much time and energy). I'm figuring it out, as I go.
Look at it this way: the less time spent on the net, the more time I have at my disposal to write my famous letters, you've all, at one time or another, expressed such fondness for. My mum cooks (and we'll be enjoying her cooking the next couple of weeks, as she's coming to stay with us again for a while -yes, that's the second time, already, here in Jellytown) and I write (letters, at least).
Love to all and peace for the world (I'd make an excellent Miss Universe, see???)
Axxx
Don't really have a lot of thoughts to share, this very instant (which is frustrating because I catch myself all the time -whenever I'm away from the computer- thinking to myself: this would make for an intersting discussion, and this even more).
Anyway, there are two things I' like to share with you.
The first concerns The White Hotel. I've actually made some progress, and it really is an enjoyable read, once you get past the hysteria (p. 30-130). I don't know, I suppose my failure to 'enjoy' that particular bit, is probably connected to real-life tendencies and childhood litter remaining in my own precious head (which is why I ordered Lfee to stay away from it - but I'm afraid she might be someone who responds to her friends' well-meaning orders they way I do... So... sorry, love, if I've, in effect, made you read it).
Anyway, reading the bit I'll be quoting below, I was reminded of you lot, and your thoughts/opinions concerning me, the past couple of weeks:
However, it soon became apparent that, far from having thrown off her hysteria, it had simply changed direction. Whereas before, it had sapped her bodily strength wih fierce pangs, yet let her mind rational, now it had released her body at the cost of her mind. Her unbridled talkativeness soon gave evidence of wild irrationality. Her cheerfulness was the desperate humour of soldiers joking in the trenches; and her efforts at a sustained discussion drifted into a dreamlike monologue, almost a hypnotic trance. Before, she had been miserable but sensible; now she was happy and demented. (D.M.Thomas (1981), The White Hotel: p. 103)
I couldn't suppress a smile, as I read this part. It also reminded me, as I have so often been reminded, of the words my teacher of old, G.C., once spoke: 'Have you ever considered that there's no coincincidence involved, when you pick the books you wind up reading?'
The second bit I wanted to share with you is that, as much as I love having a job, nevermind that particular job in that particular environment, I do feel I need more rest, these days. Which is why I have decided to take it slowly, from now on, on the inetrnet. I can't promiss that I'll keep up with the daily emailing and stuff, nor with the daily blogging. And don't know how much recovery time I actually do need (I'll probably still manage three days a week - just not 6 to 7... takes up too much time and energy). I'm figuring it out, as I go.
Look at it this way: the less time spent on the net, the more time I have at my disposal to write my famous letters, you've all, at one time or another, expressed such fondness for. My mum cooks (and we'll be enjoying her cooking the next couple of weeks, as she's coming to stay with us again for a while -yes, that's the second time, already, here in Jellytown) and I write (letters, at least).
Love to all and peace for the world (I'd make an excellent Miss Universe, see???)
Axxx
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Kissy: Can't figure out a title.
Going to keep it short, cos it's late, but did want to put my two cents in.
- Hello Maria!!!!!!!!! Nice to hear from you in person, I've heard so much about you and maybe you could also help me with my next point.
- We have been asked to put together a top picks reading list an "librarians" that some customers like to look through. I have quite a few favorite books but I am afraid I lean shamelessly towards one genre, so I would greatly appreciate some suggestions that don't belong to the Jane Austen/George Eliot genre ( yes I know they are completely different, but I'm sure you guys get the drift).
- Anna I promise I will get on to writing you a long e-mail some time soon, to explain my anti Fed txt ( not that I think you need explanation) And no I didn't hear about Justine. Tennis is not really big in NZ and with the Rugby World cup on in France it's definitely not featuring in the sports news that I'm watching.
- Just cos I can't resist having a dig at self pity and feeling misunderstood. Yes I know what it feels like to be pushed into something you don't want, or people wanting too much for you or thinking that you are to easily content (which in my case sometimes I am, and I realise now that it is sometimes good to be pushed, like Paul making me jog every other day, I hate running but he pulls me out of the door and when I come back I love him for it)). No I didn't have as bad a time with it as you. But you seem to willfully want to misunderstand your friends as well, we do want you to be happy, not with something we feel is best for you but just to be happy with something you want. But we also think that maybe by giving you an extra push that might be just the motivation you need to aacomplish something at maybe you subconsciously do want, obviously I was mistaken in this instance, but get of the "I'm so misunderstood stance". Everybody is misunderstood in some ways you know. Everybody has instances were they realise that people close to them really don't know them at all. Let it go and move on, sorry if this sounds a bit harsh.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Kroe: sobering up
Not a lot of things I want to add. (Actually, I could go on for a couple of paragraphs, but somehow I feel a bit of restraint is in order - don't hold your breath, I'm sure it will last all of two days).
Anyway, there's a bit of music I'd like to share with you, before I commit to my self-prescribed silent treatment: green meadows, skies full of stars, raindrops of roses & whiskers on kittens ...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=c5dNV7a3vck
-----------------------------------------------------------------
OK, I sent L. a text message telling her once again about my happiness concerning Feddie's resulst and (that part of) her reply was less than encouraging.
This morning I was to get up really early (we've grown into this habit of me functioning as D's personal alarm clock-service, and today he had to leave a full hour earlier than normal) and instead of returning to bed for at least an hour's sleep recovery, I surfed the morning away, reading up on everything Feddie-related.
Obsessed, again.
The truth is, these slam thingies are very addictive, esp. for a sports and story nut like me. By the way, the story nut aspect in it, is essential to my appreciation, because that's the part that gets me most excited of all. Tales of heroism and chivalry for the not so young. Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em.
But I realise I'm wasting precious time on things that are not really that important. Have to get geared up again, pick up where I left off in August. What's complicating matters a little bit, is that the novel currently commuting with me to Ghent and back, is one I don't always have the stomach for (D.M. Thomas, The White Hotel - Leasle, as always curious about your opinion; Liesbeth, DON'T YOU DARE READ IT, you're decades away from being able to stomach this and not quite sure whether you'd enjoy it then), and it's not like I have oceans of time to be browsing the library shelves at my favoured, leisurely pace.
My conclusion: there's no two ways about it, I have to cut myself off the tennis epics for a while and regain focus on the things I actually enjoy doing rather than playing the fawning spectator to.
I 'll let you know how I fare without my tennis-related day-dreaming. (Question: could there be a correlation between what I'm reading, the extent of my interest in tennis-related things, and the way I feel about myself and the world beyond, viz. you guys. Interesting)
Kroe xxx
Anyway, there's a bit of music I'd like to share with you, before I commit to my self-prescribed silent treatment: green meadows, skies full of stars, raindrops of roses & whiskers on kittens ...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=c5dNV7a3vck
-----------------------------------------------------------------
OK, I sent L. a text message telling her once again about my happiness concerning Feddie's resulst and (that part of) her reply was less than encouraging.
This morning I was to get up really early (we've grown into this habit of me functioning as D's personal alarm clock-service, and today he had to leave a full hour earlier than normal) and instead of returning to bed for at least an hour's sleep recovery, I surfed the morning away, reading up on everything Feddie-related.
Obsessed, again.
The truth is, these slam thingies are very addictive, esp. for a sports and story nut like me. By the way, the story nut aspect in it, is essential to my appreciation, because that's the part that gets me most excited of all. Tales of heroism and chivalry for the not so young. Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em.
But I realise I'm wasting precious time on things that are not really that important. Have to get geared up again, pick up where I left off in August. What's complicating matters a little bit, is that the novel currently commuting with me to Ghent and back, is one I don't always have the stomach for (D.M. Thomas, The White Hotel - Leasle, as always curious about your opinion; Liesbeth, DON'T YOU DARE READ IT, you're decades away from being able to stomach this and not quite sure whether you'd enjoy it then), and it's not like I have oceans of time to be browsing the library shelves at my favoured, leisurely pace.
My conclusion: there's no two ways about it, I have to cut myself off the tennis epics for a while and regain focus on the things I actually enjoy doing rather than playing the fawning spectator to.
I 'll let you know how I fare without my tennis-related day-dreaming. (Question: could there be a correlation between what I'm reading, the extent of my interest in tennis-related things, and the way I feel about myself and the world beyond, viz. you guys. Interesting)
Kroe xxx
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Tell me why I don't like Mondays and Good Vibrations
Actually, I love, love, love Mondays. Mornings, as a rule, I love even more. And, of course, I love annoying everyone with my cheerful mood on Monday Mornings :-)
Turns out that song's being aired on the radio - hence the title. It also reminds me of friendships lost (Marijke, quo vadis?), so there.
First things first: Ines, if you're still reading this blog despite the tiresome drama, have yourself a lovely 26th birthday!!!!!!!!!!
Secondly: I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer .....
I mean, I'd love him just as much if he had lost yesterday, honest! It's just ever so thoughtful of him not to lose, seeing as it's the start of a brand new week and I'd like to start it, devoid of sadness, frustration, or anger. Oozing of perfection, indeed!
Kroe kroe to each and every one of you and don't forget to take in the amazing & exciting newsness of this morn, this day, this week (*scrapes throat and pretends she doesn't know she'll be called on it, and goes on*: this new Anna)
;-)
xxxx
Off to sell myself (make that Telenet) a dozen times over (the way Feddie's won a slam, a dozen times over - god, I love him).
----------------------------
Correction: I now see it's only the 9th Sept., which means Ini's birthday is tomorrow, unless I'm terribly mistaken. Well hopefully this means I'm the first to extend my congratulations, for once. See, when Feddie rocks, I rock. (I know that's blatantly untrue, but ah, to indulge in my illusions and think the world and myself somehow perfect on this lovely morn....)
Turns out that song's being aired on the radio - hence the title. It also reminds me of friendships lost (Marijke, quo vadis?), so there.
First things first: Ines, if you're still reading this blog despite the tiresome drama, have yourself a lovely 26th birthday!!!!!!!!!!
Secondly: I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer I love Federer .....
I mean, I'd love him just as much if he had lost yesterday, honest! It's just ever so thoughtful of him not to lose, seeing as it's the start of a brand new week and I'd like to start it, devoid of sadness, frustration, or anger. Oozing of perfection, indeed!
Kroe kroe to each and every one of you and don't forget to take in the amazing & exciting newsness of this morn, this day, this week (*scrapes throat and pretends she doesn't know she'll be called on it, and goes on*: this new Anna)
;-)
xxxx
Off to sell myself (make that Telenet) a dozen times over (the way Feddie's won a slam, a dozen times over - god, I love him).
----------------------------
Correction: I now see it's only the 9th Sept., which means Ini's birthday is tomorrow, unless I'm terribly mistaken. Well hopefully this means I'm the first to extend my congratulations, for once. See, when Feddie rocks, I rock. (I know that's blatantly untrue, but ah, to indulge in my illusions and think the world and myself somehow perfect on this lovely morn....)
Kroe: Lazing on a Sunday afternoon (Qxxx)
A token of gratitude to my friends. I love you all, and love having you in my life.
At the same time, this delicious set of tunes and charmingly bizar imagery is to symbolise my return to a state of chuffedness.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=965qT1k33P8
Actually, away from the blog and ... well, your voices inside my head... I've had an amazing weekend. It started out angry/sad/self-absorbed on this blog, then there was quiet & real sadness as we found ourselves face to face with D's grandfather who's in a bad way, healthwise, and, then, gradually, as David and I talked and planned and dreamed, checking the things on this weekend's to-do list, there was a sense of control & peace of mind regained.
I got a bit carried away, didn't I? I guess what really happened on here, was that I allowed my wonky, acceptance-seeking mind take over. It makes me sound like a raging idiot. Zuckerman with a hint of breasts (if you don't get it, have another look at my 'Anatomy' post and take the advice in it to heart).
Blah blah blah blah
What I really want to write about is of course: take the next two sets, my heart (it's 1 set to love for my heart of hearts, Rog the Man in Black)!!!! Leasle, you must have heard of Justine taking out the Williams sisters (in straight sets, obviously) and going on to win the whole shebang at the US Open?
In other news: Leasle, just so you know, there's a possibility you've breathed your last in Belgium as you know it, since the hot talk here, coming from politicians and (some) journalists alike, is that Flanders may be going it alone soon. Actually, it's the theme that dominated the summer in terms of news, which means that I've lost interest in it along the way (or maybe it's that there's only so much interest one can muster for the likes of Van Rompuy - Liesbeth, help me out: who is actually more ...er....winning, he or Leterme?). Anyway... I thought it was my duty to let you know.
And now, of course, my Feddie is trailing in the second set.... Come on, my awesome, awesome guy! Just do what you do, oozing of perfection, and shut those terrible commentators up!
That is all I require.
For now.
(Well that and the best song ever: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxbFLYa0_bw&mode=related&search= )
At the same time, this delicious set of tunes and charmingly bizar imagery is to symbolise my return to a state of chuffedness.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=965qT1k33P8
Actually, away from the blog and ... well, your voices inside my head... I've had an amazing weekend. It started out angry/sad/self-absorbed on this blog, then there was quiet & real sadness as we found ourselves face to face with D's grandfather who's in a bad way, healthwise, and, then, gradually, as David and I talked and planned and dreamed, checking the things on this weekend's to-do list, there was a sense of control & peace of mind regained.
I got a bit carried away, didn't I? I guess what really happened on here, was that I allowed my wonky, acceptance-seeking mind take over. It makes me sound like a raging idiot. Zuckerman with a hint of breasts (if you don't get it, have another look at my 'Anatomy' post and take the advice in it to heart).
Blah blah blah blah
What I really want to write about is of course: take the next two sets, my heart (it's 1 set to love for my heart of hearts, Rog the Man in Black)!!!! Leasle, you must have heard of Justine taking out the Williams sisters (in straight sets, obviously) and going on to win the whole shebang at the US Open?
In other news: Leasle, just so you know, there's a possibility you've breathed your last in Belgium as you know it, since the hot talk here, coming from politicians and (some) journalists alike, is that Flanders may be going it alone soon. Actually, it's the theme that dominated the summer in terms of news, which means that I've lost interest in it along the way (or maybe it's that there's only so much interest one can muster for the likes of Van Rompuy - Liesbeth, help me out: who is actually more ...er....winning, he or Leterme?). Anyway... I thought it was my duty to let you know.
And now, of course, my Feddie is trailing in the second set.... Come on, my awesome, awesome guy! Just do what you do, oozing of perfection, and shut those terrible commentators up!
That is all I require.
For now.
(Well that and the best song ever: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxbFLYa0_bw&mode=related&search= )
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Kroe: humble pie revisited
Is this the blogging hotline today or what????
I see that I have not been explicit enough in my final post (if I can't get my ideas across to Leasle, I don't have a chance with anyone else), so here's a new attempt:
It was Thursday, and I was having an ordinary late lunch break, when I received a text message from Leasle's mother. It contained more or less the same message other people were trying to get across in their own little ways. But this one... it got to me. Don't know why, but I got really, really sad - feeling utterly misunderstood and sorry for myself (it's not a charming attribute of mine, this knack for self-pity, but I guess I've got lots and lots of unquestionably charming traits to make up for it, so I don't really care). "How is it, that they don't see what it's doing to me? Missing deadline after deadline, starving myself, and they still want me, no, expect me to carry on????" This type of complaining chimed on in my head for the next two hours of work.
Then, I had another break, and fortunately it convened with Kurt's break as well. So we talked, and talked and talked. Told him about everything from my perspective, he told me of all his friends and acquaintances regretting their decisions to quit school at some premature stage or other. And that still didn't do it.
But like David, later that evening, and Cindy my therapist the day before, Kurt concluded his advice columnist stint with the request to make up my mind, take a decision, and be done with it.
On Friday, still reeling from the text message and the bloggy bickering, I decided to go to the university adminstration on my lunch break and finally make it official. But as I headed into Sint-Pietersnieuwsstraat (from Brabantdam onwards, mind you - i.e. closer to the offices than than the faculty buildings), I heard a distinct voice within (common sense?) telling me to go face my feelings at the English department, before I decided to run away from them forever.
I went, I saw, I did not quite conquer.
Obviously I was hoping to have my feelings of the previous weeks reinforced. Instead, I bumped into Julie on the threshold of the Rozier. Julie had started her university days back in the autumn of 2000 - that's right, we'd sit together for our Swedish pronunciation seminars and our English poetry classes. And now, there we were. The quiet girl turned into a confident academic, working on her PHD and several research projects for the English Linguistics Department. And there was same old, same old boisterous me - apparently brilliant & born for this line of study, yet distubringly shakey in the mental department.
To be sure, I'd seen Julie more or less regularly, over the past few months, so her success did not unduly shake me or make me envious or anything. It 's just that it made for an interesting contrast, seeing her, embodying "all it takes",as I was about to go tell those inside the building that I'd finally made my peace with the fact that I embody anything but.
Even more interesting was, that Julie was one of two people I'd explained my situation and my position to, face to face, and who'd immediately accept the validity of my sentiments & judgement.
We said our goodbyes, wished each other good luck, and I entered the building, predictably I suppose, welling up.
I cried my way across the hall-way, I cried my way to the English literature department even - a place I hadn't set foot in for over a year. I returned to the Linguistics department, reading the backs of the books - novels-, neatly stacked into the old old cupboards, as I had always done. Even when I wasn't a student yet, but 18 and very very eager, and every seemed so exciting and new.
So I cried some more (luckily there was no-one in sight), and I knew: I've loved this. This has been me. All of me I found acceptable at the time. It's clear that I can't allow myself to develop a fresh dependency on my studying identity, and the (lack of???) successes attached to it. But it's equally clear that I can't leave it all behind, either - not even for a year, or a full season, for that matter. I can't pretend I'm indifferent to it. I can't pretend I don't want it.
I want to complete whatever I need to complete. On my own terms, yes, and in my own time, to boot (Sara, if it means I have to do some more exams, bring it on - I always ace exams, even in my most horrific headcase days). But no longer accepting my own stupid & irrationally high standards.
I want to deliver. I want to hand something in. Not because I've seen the light and I think that having a master's is essntial. Anyone who knows me at all, knows that I laugh at money-issues (for those who might be reading this and don't know me: no, it's definitely not because I have money), so that's no valid argument for me either.
Why do I want it, then?
Simply because I love it. And it amounts to one more thing about me, I need to accept about myself.
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself/and what I assume.... " - cousin Walt
Axxx
I see that I have not been explicit enough in my final post (if I can't get my ideas across to Leasle, I don't have a chance with anyone else), so here's a new attempt:
It was Thursday, and I was having an ordinary late lunch break, when I received a text message from Leasle's mother. It contained more or less the same message other people were trying to get across in their own little ways. But this one... it got to me. Don't know why, but I got really, really sad - feeling utterly misunderstood and sorry for myself (it's not a charming attribute of mine, this knack for self-pity, but I guess I've got lots and lots of unquestionably charming traits to make up for it, so I don't really care). "How is it, that they don't see what it's doing to me? Missing deadline after deadline, starving myself, and they still want me, no, expect me to carry on????" This type of complaining chimed on in my head for the next two hours of work.
Then, I had another break, and fortunately it convened with Kurt's break as well. So we talked, and talked and talked. Told him about everything from my perspective, he told me of all his friends and acquaintances regretting their decisions to quit school at some premature stage or other. And that still didn't do it.
But like David, later that evening, and Cindy my therapist the day before, Kurt concluded his advice columnist stint with the request to make up my mind, take a decision, and be done with it.
On Friday, still reeling from the text message and the bloggy bickering, I decided to go to the university adminstration on my lunch break and finally make it official. But as I headed into Sint-Pietersnieuwsstraat (from Brabantdam onwards, mind you - i.e. closer to the offices than than the faculty buildings), I heard a distinct voice within (common sense?) telling me to go face my feelings at the English department, before I decided to run away from them forever.
I went, I saw, I did not quite conquer.
Obviously I was hoping to have my feelings of the previous weeks reinforced. Instead, I bumped into Julie on the threshold of the Rozier. Julie had started her university days back in the autumn of 2000 - that's right, we'd sit together for our Swedish pronunciation seminars and our English poetry classes. And now, there we were. The quiet girl turned into a confident academic, working on her PHD and several research projects for the English Linguistics Department. And there was same old, same old boisterous me - apparently brilliant & born for this line of study, yet distubringly shakey in the mental department.
To be sure, I'd seen Julie more or less regularly, over the past few months, so her success did not unduly shake me or make me envious or anything. It 's just that it made for an interesting contrast, seeing her, embodying "all it takes",as I was about to go tell those inside the building that I'd finally made my peace with the fact that I embody anything but.
Even more interesting was, that Julie was one of two people I'd explained my situation and my position to, face to face, and who'd immediately accept the validity of my sentiments & judgement.
We said our goodbyes, wished each other good luck, and I entered the building, predictably I suppose, welling up.
I cried my way across the hall-way, I cried my way to the English literature department even - a place I hadn't set foot in for over a year. I returned to the Linguistics department, reading the backs of the books - novels-, neatly stacked into the old old cupboards, as I had always done. Even when I wasn't a student yet, but 18 and very very eager, and every seemed so exciting and new.
So I cried some more (luckily there was no-one in sight), and I knew: I've loved this. This has been me. All of me I found acceptable at the time. It's clear that I can't allow myself to develop a fresh dependency on my studying identity, and the (lack of???) successes attached to it. But it's equally clear that I can't leave it all behind, either - not even for a year, or a full season, for that matter. I can't pretend I'm indifferent to it. I can't pretend I don't want it.
I want to complete whatever I need to complete. On my own terms, yes, and in my own time, to boot (Sara, if it means I have to do some more exams, bring it on - I always ace exams, even in my most horrific headcase days). But no longer accepting my own stupid & irrationally high standards.
I want to deliver. I want to hand something in. Not because I've seen the light and I think that having a master's is essntial. Anyone who knows me at all, knows that I laugh at money-issues (for those who might be reading this and don't know me: no, it's definitely not because I have money), so that's no valid argument for me either.
Why do I want it, then?
Simply because I love it. And it amounts to one more thing about me, I need to accept about myself.
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself/and what I assume.... " - cousin Walt
Axxx
Friday, September 7, 2007
Kissy: Kroe yes you have got what it takes.
I don't care what you say, yes like you said you are unintelligent enough, and yes YOU DO HAVE WHAT IT TAKES.
I indeed don't agree with your decision, but since you are a dear friend and I see, well kinda see from this distance, that at the moment the decision that you have made gives you the calm and happiness you are seeking for the moment, so I will as you suggested agree to disagree with you and support you choice fully, (like you needed me to do that anyway.)
So as of now I will not bring the subject up anymore.
I indeed don't agree with your decision, but since you are a dear friend and I see, well kinda see from this distance, that at the moment the decision that you have made gives you the calm and happiness you are seeking for the moment, so I will as you suggested agree to disagree with you and support you choice fully, (like you needed me to do that anyway.)
So as of now I will not bring the subject up anymore.
Pie (the humble kind)
So I'm doing it, after all.
Forcing myself to visit the English department, forcing myself to face my true feelings, I realised today that I don't want my whole uni experience to end this way. I've loved it so, so much. It's meant so much to me. I can't turn my back on it, and pretend I don't care. Not for more than a month anyway.
Still, that does not mean that I think you were right all along, Leasle, Sara, Leasle's mum, ...
I think I was due more understanding and sympathy than I received. I can't help feeling that all of your gentle outbursts were more about yourselves and your own anxieties than they were about me.
I meant it, when I said that I don't feel I need the stupid degree to navigate me through life.
The only thing that's changed is that I realise now how deeply I loved studying - and studying Germanic languages and literature in particular. To that I must stay true, even if I can't go on identifying myself completely with my studying.
And so, I've come full circle: I've rediscovered so many aspects of myself, in letting go of the immense pressures I experienced studying. And once I 'd granted those essential bits of me a rightful place in my life now, it appears I was ready to embrace my student aspect as well.
I can't let it control my life anymore. I can't even allow it to be a major theme in the present stage of my life (and no, dears, I won't allow you to rush me into doing something I don't want to - I'll hand it in, if and when I feel ready. Kind of stubborn that way, I'm afraid). At the same time, though, "my kind of love is an ugly love/but it's real and it lasts a long long time".
With me, it seems, there is no letting go. Not entirely, not ever....
which, of course, bodes well for you lot who've earned individual spots in my heart, everlastingly.
Anna, the Hegelian synthesis incarnate xxx
P.S. Leasle, anyone, remind me to dedicate a post to David shortly. He, of all people, he, who's been through so much because of his degreeless state of being, has been amazingly understanding. It was anything but easy, but he was there for me, all the same.
Forcing myself to visit the English department, forcing myself to face my true feelings, I realised today that I don't want my whole uni experience to end this way. I've loved it so, so much. It's meant so much to me. I can't turn my back on it, and pretend I don't care. Not for more than a month anyway.
Still, that does not mean that I think you were right all along, Leasle, Sara, Leasle's mum, ...
I think I was due more understanding and sympathy than I received. I can't help feeling that all of your gentle outbursts were more about yourselves and your own anxieties than they were about me.
I meant it, when I said that I don't feel I need the stupid degree to navigate me through life.
The only thing that's changed is that I realise now how deeply I loved studying - and studying Germanic languages and literature in particular. To that I must stay true, even if I can't go on identifying myself completely with my studying.
And so, I've come full circle: I've rediscovered so many aspects of myself, in letting go of the immense pressures I experienced studying. And once I 'd granted those essential bits of me a rightful place in my life now, it appears I was ready to embrace my student aspect as well.
I can't let it control my life anymore. I can't even allow it to be a major theme in the present stage of my life (and no, dears, I won't allow you to rush me into doing something I don't want to - I'll hand it in, if and when I feel ready. Kind of stubborn that way, I'm afraid). At the same time, though, "my kind of love is an ugly love/but it's real and it lasts a long long time".
With me, it seems, there is no letting go. Not entirely, not ever....
which, of course, bodes well for you lot who've earned individual spots in my heart, everlastingly.
Anna, the Hegelian synthesis incarnate xxx
P.S. Leasle, anyone, remind me to dedicate a post to David shortly. He, of all people, he, who's been through so much because of his degreeless state of being, has been amazingly understanding. It was anything but easy, but he was there for me, all the same.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Kissy: Weekly Update
Opnieuw hallo/ Hello everybody, again
Biebleven/ Library Live
- Na 1 week in de bieb, was het weer een week van training en ge voelt het serieus als ge terug in de bieb staat, het lijkt alsof ge weer bijna helemaal opnieuw moet beginnen en voor volgende week ziet het er niet beter uit./ After one week of full-time library it’s back to the class room and once I did get back into the library it felt like I had to start all over again, and it is not going to get any better next week.
- Nogal altijd veel op en af geloop, maar zelfs de baas ziet dat in, dus er gaat nog eens gepraat worden over hoe nu alles in z’n werk gaat, maar geen zorgen ik heb nog zeker werk/ Still a lot of running hither and dither, but even the boss realises that, so there will be a discussion about it, but know worries I won’t be out of a job anytime soon.
- De e-mail ligt nu al bijna 2 weken uit, ale ligt nu eindelijk niet meer uit. Dus zeer veel gemist e-mails en veel werk waar ik geen idee van had , waar ik aan moest beginnen./ E-mails, that have not been working for nearly 2 weeks has finally been fixed. So lots of e-mails and tasks I didn’t even know I had to catch up on.
- The winkel pc bij de gondola heeft het begeven dus, de PC van de baas staat in de winkel, dus heb ik nog steeds geen uurrooster voor de komende week, joepie/ The Gondola Shop PC is broken, so the PC of the boss is now being used in the shop, so I still don’t have a roster for next week
- PC terug gemaakt tot de baas aan mij vroeg om de MYOB ( software voor de winkel) te updaten. Met gevolg dat ganse systeem crashed. Twee dagen later was ik terug en heb heb hem toen gevraagd om mij aub niet te ontslaan, hij zei dat het niet mijn fout was. / PC was working again until boss asked me to update MYOB (shopfront software). Whole system crashed. Two days later I had the chance to ask him to please not sack me, thankfully he said it wasn’t my fault.
Ander Nieuws/ Other News
- Er is kort geleden een maan eclips geweest, nu hadden em bijna gemist, ale we hebben em gemist maar we hebben wel de rode gloei van de maan gezien/ A short while ago we had a lunar eclips. We nearly missed it, well technically we did miss it, but we did see a red moon.
- Nadat we tot de conclusie gekomen zijn dat al betaalbaar vless niet echt lekker is, zijn we van plan meer vegetarisch te eten, bonen en noten ter vervanging van vlees. Dus we hebben wat goede en slechte recepten mogen proeven, maar we leren bij. Voorbeelden: zoet-zuur met groenten en soy bonen, cannolini met ricotta en spinazie en pasta met lentils en spinazie saus, tortilla met aardnotenboter en banaan. Dus als iemand lekker recepten kent, zeker delen!!!!!!!!!!1 After discovering that the affordable meat offer here really isn’t that great, we decided to eat more vegetarian food subsitting meat for beans and nuts, …. So we’ve had some good and bad recipes but we’re definitely starting to learn some new dishes. Ex: sweet & sour with veggies and soy beans, cannaloni with ricotta and spinach, Pasta with lentil and spinach sauce, tortilla with peanut butter and banana’s …. So if anybody know any nice recipes please share!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Toekomstige activiteiten/ Upcoming Events
- 100.000 tour van tram 178. Ik moet helpen met uitdelen van voucher pakketten en een receptie voor de personeelsleden die er waren toen tram 178 voor het eerst zijn ronde deed/ 100.000 tour for tram 178. I have to help give away voucher packs and help with the function for the employees that were there when tram 178 did it’s first round.
- Introductie tot nieuwe toeristische attractie in Ferrymead en afscheid van een meisjes dat in de tram winkel werkte./ Introduction tot a new tourist attraction and farewell to one of the tram shop girls.
- Avond uit met mijn training groep van de bieb/ Evening out with my training group in the library.
Tot Ziens/ See ya
Kissy: Degrees
Ok so uni degrees don't mean as much as they made out in Dilsen, but for all my complaining, man am I glad I got mine. Will it get me higher up the social ladder, in some peoples eyes maybe. Will it get me a better job, in the long run probably not, but man am I glad I put in the minimal effort to actually get my masters. Especially because I got my kandidatuur before they were willing to acknowledge it as the same as a bachelors.
So Kroe:
Even though you seem to not have heard me, I have actually stated my opinion on you giving up on your Masters. By all means I wont you to feel free, liberated, happy and yes you have accomplished something and have a university degree in your hands. But girl, get that bloody masters degree and get it now. No more procrastinating, no more excuses. Just hand that damn thesis in get crappy marks for it, if it is really that bad, which I doubt it is, I get it over and done with. NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So Kroe:
Even though you seem to not have heard me, I have actually stated my opinion on you giving up on your Masters. By all means I wont you to feel free, liberated, happy and yes you have accomplished something and have a university degree in your hands. But girl, get that bloody masters degree and get it now. No more procrastinating, no more excuses. Just hand that damn thesis in get crappy marks for it, if it is really that bad, which I doubt it is, I get it over and done with. NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Kroe: The art of letting go; ugly love - on approval and acceptance
It's been more than a month now, and I have yet to get accustomed to the new situation, where there's a real possibility, I'll go degreeless (make that university-degreeless, for the professional job consultants I have seen on my ridiculously short bout of unemployment are quick to remind me of my "kandidatuur" - equivalent of bachelor's degree ((yes, I object to the word 'candidature', it's a silly, silly word and not in a good way)) ).
This possibility is, of course (no L, the single f is no typo), one of many. Other possibilities include: getting that damned degree in January, in which case I should hurry to start putting in the hours again going over my stuff (in my defence, it's not really procrastinating, this time around, as I just have so many things to do, and I barely manage as it is); become successful in other domains in life, and get awarded an honorary degree in due course *pictures self in robes and wings accompanied by the likes of (the future equivalents of) Kofi Annan and Brian May, and tries to keep her eyes in their sockets, as she proceeds to laugh her head off*; or, become successful in other domains in life, and be able to afford, in due course, a second chance as a student -probably a student of Latin philology, maybe Greek as well.
Actually, even back in the days of my full-fledged Germaanse mode (ok, Germanic is an acceptable word, but it 's a thoroughly Belgian/Flemish experience I'm referring to, so I insist: it's Germaanse - Maria, if you require a word of explanation... just say the word and long mails, electronic and paper, are headed your way), I seriously entertained the thought of returning to university in a couple of decades. You know, after some maturing and sufficient amounts of money-earning , definitive dropping of my ridiculous fear of failure (ah, the myriad faces of self-fulfilling prophecy) would have taken place.
This brings me to my point, projected in the title: I'm absolutely terrible at letting go of stuff. It's why I often succeed at rekindling friendships and other bonds of old; it's why I've lasted so long at university, despite the obvious trouble& anguish that caused me; it's why I keep hoping to become all things perfect in the eyes of mummy and Dimi, even though I don't agree with their perceptions of perfection, and they think I'm alright, anyway.
(Sigh) I just can't , can't can't let go of stuff. Flash forward to my death-bed, where all of my awfully polite & considerate (I am their grandmonther, after all) grandchildren are repressing their curses, and praying to the heavens above that I finally give up the fight and choke to death in my cough, or something, already.
Reminds of another Eels song off their 'Blinking lights and other revelation'.
Can't find it on youtube (shock! horror!), but the lyrics I keep thinking of, are:
My kind of love is an ugly love,
But it's real, and it lasts a long long time
I'm not quite in the dark place, evoked by the rest of the lyrics in the song, but I can relate to those two lines.
In my heart, it's clear: I don't need the Germaanse degree (If won't come to me, I don't want it anymore - gosh, Anna, you're so mature!) - but I'd have an easier time ... letting go, if there was but one person close to my heart, actually accepting my point of view - you know, and actually saying as much. (Actually, I have no trouble at all with my lovey D's uneasiness - obviously, he is entitled, because of his history as well as ours).
Then I go and think about the things I wrote on my birthday (about so many people in my life that I love - conversation with Freddie, remmeber?), and I realise, I'm making a big deal of things, that are absolutely not worth the effort.
Will she ever die, approval-seeking me?
We'll just have to wait and see :-)
Axxx
---------------------------------------------
The day at the office has come and gone, and I have thought about this message all day long.
Here's what I've come up with. It's not so much the approval of my friends I seek (not this time, anyway), but the appeasement of my bewilderment. You see, I have real difficulty grasping that people who have known me so well over the past few years, people who love me just as much as I love them, would actually want me to quit being happy and freed, so that I can acquire something that, for the life of me, I don't think I want or need, i.e. the master's degree. I'm honestly not afraid to venture into adulthood without that piece of paper. Time and again, I see that my sunny disposition, natural to me and now no longer strained by academic obligations/expectations, opens enough worthwhile doors in life, as it is.
Leasle, Sara, people who have not told me what they think for fear of bruising my ego or something; people who carry on about the shittiness of our society and the obligations that go with it for us, "survivors"... I am happy. At the risk of sounding awfully dramatic once again, how is it,that that is not enough?
Love,
Axxx
This possibility is, of course (no L, the single f is no typo), one of many. Other possibilities include: getting that damned degree in January, in which case I should hurry to start putting in the hours again going over my stuff (in my defence, it's not really procrastinating, this time around, as I just have so many things to do, and I barely manage as it is); become successful in other domains in life, and get awarded an honorary degree in due course *pictures self in robes and wings accompanied by the likes of (the future equivalents of) Kofi Annan and Brian May, and tries to keep her eyes in their sockets, as she proceeds to laugh her head off*; or, become successful in other domains in life, and be able to afford, in due course, a second chance as a student -probably a student of Latin philology, maybe Greek as well.
Actually, even back in the days of my full-fledged Germaanse mode (ok, Germanic is an acceptable word, but it 's a thoroughly Belgian/Flemish experience I'm referring to, so I insist: it's Germaanse - Maria, if you require a word of explanation... just say the word and long mails, electronic and paper, are headed your way), I seriously entertained the thought of returning to university in a couple of decades. You know, after some maturing and sufficient amounts of money-earning , definitive dropping of my ridiculous fear of failure (ah, the myriad faces of self-fulfilling prophecy) would have taken place.
This brings me to my point, projected in the title: I'm absolutely terrible at letting go of stuff. It's why I often succeed at rekindling friendships and other bonds of old; it's why I've lasted so long at university, despite the obvious trouble& anguish that caused me; it's why I keep hoping to become all things perfect in the eyes of mummy and Dimi, even though I don't agree with their perceptions of perfection, and they think I'm alright, anyway.
(Sigh) I just can't , can't can't let go of stuff. Flash forward to my death-bed, where all of my awfully polite & considerate (I am their grandmonther, after all) grandchildren are repressing their curses, and praying to the heavens above that I finally give up the fight and choke to death in my cough, or something, already.
Reminds of another Eels song off their 'Blinking lights and other revelation'.
Can't find it on youtube (shock! horror!), but the lyrics I keep thinking of, are:
My kind of love is an ugly love,
But it's real, and it lasts a long long time
I'm not quite in the dark place, evoked by the rest of the lyrics in the song, but I can relate to those two lines.
In my heart, it's clear: I don't need the Germaanse degree (If won't come to me, I don't want it anymore - gosh, Anna, you're so mature!) - but I'd have an easier time ... letting go, if there was but one person close to my heart, actually accepting my point of view - you know, and actually saying as much. (Actually, I have no trouble at all with my lovey D's uneasiness - obviously, he is entitled, because of his history as well as ours).
Then I go and think about the things I wrote on my birthday (about so many people in my life that I love - conversation with Freddie, remmeber?), and I realise, I'm making a big deal of things, that are absolutely not worth the effort.
Will she ever die, approval-seeking me?
We'll just have to wait and see :-)
Axxx
---------------------------------------------
The day at the office has come and gone, and I have thought about this message all day long.
Here's what I've come up with. It's not so much the approval of my friends I seek (not this time, anyway), but the appeasement of my bewilderment. You see, I have real difficulty grasping that people who have known me so well over the past few years, people who love me just as much as I love them, would actually want me to quit being happy and freed, so that I can acquire something that, for the life of me, I don't think I want or need, i.e. the master's degree. I'm honestly not afraid to venture into adulthood without that piece of paper. Time and again, I see that my sunny disposition, natural to me and now no longer strained by academic obligations/expectations, opens enough worthwhile doors in life, as it is.
Leasle, Sara, people who have not told me what they think for fear of bruising my ego or something; people who carry on about the shittiness of our society and the obligations that go with it for us, "survivors"... I am happy. At the risk of sounding awfully dramatic once again, how is it,that that is not enough?
Love,
Axxx
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