Boocat Lolcat

Still hard at it.

I've got just about 1000 words now. Not sure if they are good words, but it seems to be coming together. Just got to write about the military-industrial-academic complex and music counter-culture, and then wind it up with the conclusion.

Ooh, this is a good article. Makes for interesting reading, and good for getting story ideas tumbling around. It's just a pity there are no references. I'd be more inclined to use the article. And this article too.

And Michael. I've sent those CD/DVD numbers to you on Facebook mail.

Itchy pate, oozing brains!

So, over the last week and a half or so, Principessa has had this scab on her leg. She keeps picking it, so it has grown. Luckily, putting a plaster on it the other day encouraged her not to pick it anymore. However, it made me think of a post on Justine Larbalestier's blog, and I have not since managed to remove the imagery from my mind. Argh! And ewwwww!

Now I think I may go and buy some Metallica from iTunes. I have none on CD, and I miss a good Metallica mosh! After all, I had my angsty female music fix yesterday when Oyster by Heather Nova arrived.

And while I have writing on my mind...

Here's an interesting post from Wil Wheaton on the experience of being a rookie writer.

I think I might have to put Scalzi's blog on the blogroll, as I haven't yet. I only ever read the odd post.

Now it's back to mulching thoughts and sentences into a coherent essay in between bouts of playing D&D Tiny Adventures on Facebook!

1 + 4 = 5 ghosts

Wow! I had the craziest, well not crazy, but messed up dream last night. It started off all well and good, but a relationship breakup set off a strange chase dream.

I was running for my life. Because friends got in the way, they lost their lives and then, all of a sudden, the person doing the chasing disappeared. The next thing I know I am at a house having a meal of undercooked steak and sausages with chips, baked beans and mushy peas - mostly foodstuffs I hate in real life. There are three cards on the table in front of the woman whose house it is. When she takes the plates out, I pick the cards up and read what's inside them. They are from the bloke who had been chasing me. It is the second card that gets my attention. At the bottom of the card there are two sets of pictures of little stick men with big heads. The first picture shows one little stick man, an equals sign, and "1 ghost". Underneath it says "Me plus her, alone, in her room." The second set shows one little stick man, a plus sign, four little stick men, an equals sign, and "5 ghosts". Underneath it says "Her, plus her friends, if her friends get in the way." I ask if I can take the cards to make copies (morbid, I know) and give them to boyfriend to pass back. But I forget the boyfriend's name. The woman's husband shouts, "Hey, Robinson, get over her. She's forgotten who you are!" As he says this, I remember his name and say, "Alan. I will pass them back to Alan," while rolling my eyes at my silly memory.

This isn't the whole dream, and I know I woke up at least twice during this dream. The first time I woke up I remember thinking, as I fell back to sleep (I was fighting going back to sleep because the dream was at a particularly frightening part), "I can't let this dream beat me." Still, it was a pretty harrowing dream, all in all. I wonder what my subconscious was trying to work through?

Well, I think I have about 600 words so far for the essay. But at least it seems to be coming together. If I can remove a Principessa from my shoulders (she is there now, watching Nick Jr.) then I shall get the books out and start writing again. Hopefully, I'll get the first draft done today.

Resuming normal service.

It's been a while, but I am back to my sports blogging. Yes, I know. Olympics. Only the biggest sporting event in the world every four years and I failed to blog. I didn't feel it necessary as it was on almost 24/7, and if you wanted to know about what was happening you would have watched for yourself! But, I am proud at how team GB fared. Especially in the cycling and sailing. And the swimming. But the Olympics are done and dusted so no blogging about them here.

No, I am back to tennis. Fresh of the heels of Olympic tennis we are now at the US Open at Flushing Meadows. The Brits have only two players in the competition, Andy Murray and Anne Keothavong. But, boo hiss, I cannot watch the matches. No. Eurosport do not have the license to show them. Only Sky does. I don't have Sky. Bugger! At least the good news is that both players are through to the second round. Yay! Very happy. I will just have to put up with watching the virtual scoreboards on the computer during their matches.

In other sports news... How miffed am I about the European GP at Valencia? The whole pit lane incident with Felipe Massa? The 'unsafe release' when he nearly drove into Adrian Sutil? He got away with a 10,000 euros fine. You just know that if that had been a McLaren driver that they would have had at least a drive through or a ten place penalty, have points docked from the constructors championship AND be given a monetary fine. I am just a little bit peeved. Grrrr!

So, that's the weekend sports review. Today, I shall mostly be writing an essay (I suspect). Especially as the glass walls trapping the essay in the recesses of my mind are now being broken down and essay like sentences are starting to seep from the cracks. Off now to scribble.

You know when you have writer's block and Pteranodontresiliteraturism when...

Not only can you not get finished, you can't get started either!

Well, I've started. Twice. But then I have found my words immersed by a quagmire of a million silent pteranodons. Ho hum.

And Skips, sorry about this, I'm going to use one of our conversations to explanation Pteranodontresiliterature. After all, it is where the term originated :D

• Ally: I wish I could stick with writing one story. Started plotting out another story for mini nanowrimo. I think my brain hurts. (I must have some psychological block when it comes to getting a story finished!)
• Skips: heheheheheh it's like finishing block rather than writers block! Maybe you're the only one in the world who has it. Then you can come up with the name for it. Tressiliterature Syndrome - my problems finshing a book! hehehe!
• Ally: It'd only have one 's' though... Tresidder; one shark, two dolphins!
• Skips: ok Tresiliterature then, although as it's the name of a syndrome you can add in as many silent and unnecessary letters as you wish and no one asks questions ;)
• Ally: Okay! Then it should start with a silent Pteranodon then. Pteranodontresiliterature!
• Skips: Pteranodontresiliterature! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! it's genius! I love it.*says in low worried voice* "So how is.. you know... the Pteranodontresiliterature?" HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! It could be a new word. We could add it to Wikipedia and soon the world would be using it as a description of when you can't finish something... :D
• Ally: Ooohhhh, evil genius Skip at work to take over the world one Pteranodontresiliteratist at a time, Wiki-style!
  

And that is how the word was born!

I shall go and eat some chocolate now.

You know you're entering the Twiglet Zone when...

Principessa turns to you and says:

It's OK Mummy, I'm not James Whale anymore!

Yeah, can't get any more surreal. Although, I wonder what she was dreaming about last night when I asked her to move over (yes, she had invaded my bed. Again.) and she sleepily cried out:

I can't! And I can't fly!

Complete head scratcher!

I think I will have to think about getting this essay written. I haven't looked at it over the weekend. I know I need to, and that I just need to prod it to get started, but an enormous sense of apathy resides in my brain. I think my synapses must be on holiday because my brain isn't firing up at all. Ho hum! Or maybe it's just that I want A215 to start. Impatience...

Principessa-ly!

Asking Principessa what she wanted for tea tonight:

Me: Do you want peas?
Princi: No, no peas.
Me: Do you want sweetcorn?
Princi: No, not sweetcorn.
Me: Do you want carrots?
Princi: No, they are too blue. *Mind ticks as she realises carrots aren't blue* No, they are too carrotly.

Ever since, thing have been decidedly "ly"!

Me: Do you like your beach shorts?
Princi: Yes, they are very beachly.

Nanny: Are you sure you don't want peas?
Princi: No, they are too pealy.

Anyway. Time to get a little miss to bed and then attempt an essay. *Sigh*

Verb creation

Principessa has started making up her own verbs. Yesterday, when coming down the stairs she held my little finger while resting her other hand and chin on the arm of the stairlift. Somehow or other she managed to knock her chin.

"Ow," she said.
"Awww, you okay? You daftie," I said.

Then, a couple of steps later she knocks her chin again. On purpose this time.

"Ow! I just daftied again, Mummy!"

I love it! You can't beat a bit of verbage!

And to finish;

*DRUMROLL*

Presenting, for your viewing pleasure,

ROCK MONSTER!

'Avin' a baybee!

Not me! No, definitely not me! But I am going to be a proxy aunty (hey, I said proxy!). Skips texted me with the fantastic news that she is pregnant last night. Yay! I'm still smiling this morning :D I'm so chuffed for you, hon!

Procrastination unlimited.

Can't be bothered. Well, I can, I'm just apathetic. Well, I'm not, I just can't seem to get started.

Yep. TMA08 is proving to be that thing that forces me to sit and play games on the computer or just find something else to do instead. I think I have all of, ooh, 20 words. Only another 1980 to go. Bum. Inspiration is no longer my friend, and procrastination is now just part of the family. Hmph.

And as I have broken the embargo on not posting Principessa pics, this pic demonstrates my procrastination aptly, I think!

Whales and dolphins, whales and dolphins, yeah!

(Pic from http://www.kidzone.ws/)

But no. Sharks and dolphins, no whales. In my dreams. Evoloved sharks and dolphins. Sharks in smoking jackets and dolphins in lab coats. Yes, I am mad.

So I had this weird dream, obviously. Above water level there was a TV station. There was some sort of Jeopardy style game show. The winners, well, they won. The losers, they were chucked into some massive vat and flushed away, where sharks waited in anticipation like dogs under a dinner table. When the losers appeared the sharks caught them, again like a dog catching scraps at the aforementioned dinner table. Some losers escaped, and found themselves at this strange, enclosed underwater complex.

Lots of rooms and corridors. The rooms were all plush, with all mod cons and any creature comforts you could think of. In these rooms, lots of peeps. There was only one problem. There were sharks inside. Sharks that could walk on their tail-fins, and use their pectoral fins as hands and arms. They would walk to a room, and just as a trained squirrel would do, pressed a button, the door would slide open, and the shark would snatch a person from the room. This happened a few times in the rooms that the dream me happened to be in. I became really annoyed by this, so found an interconnecting door. When the buzzer went on the door the shark was opening, I went through into the other room, quietly opened the door to the corridor, and attacked the shark from behind. (Here is where dreamtime goes anti-physics!) I grab the shark by his throat, and start screaming that I was fed up of him eating my friends. I walked down the corridor, shark by the throat, until we reached a set of double doors. Through the double doors we go, into a laboratory run by dolphins in lab coats and spectacles. I throw the shark at them, shouting that they can have him back because I was really pee'd off with him. The dolphins were mightly happy at the return of thier lab pet!

Then I woke up.

So yeah. I think I must have a fevered brain. Or maybe, after reading the Timothy Leary turn on-tune in-drop out stuff last night my brain decided that sharks and dolphins are to be my religion. Who knows. It must have been the repercussions of the "Death. Life. Structure" thing in the source reading. Must have been changed to Dolphins. Lab. Shark.

Well, off to continue reading the music unit, as the religion stuff is clearly playing with my head! (Though the music is doing my nut, too. Listening to "The Dangling Conversation", I am sure that the second "Are the borders of our lives" - as it is written in the lyric in the block book - is more "Are the warders of our lives" when you listen to it. It would make more sense to the song.)

Ooooooohhhhh

Wandering around the OU forums (or should that be fora? After all, it's of Latin origin...) this afternoon I stumbled across a post about not scaring the newbies. Interest piqued, I nervously clicked on the post. It was nothing to be scared about, just something to be anxiously excited about. So, now I am about to have a look through the course materials for A215! Yay! But still anxiously! It's a reality now, not just something that's happening in the near future, not just a whispering thought.

Dagnamit! I still have TMA08 to do before I start playing!

*Slinks off to read the religion section*

It must be Tuesday.

No. It's not because Dawn is in trouble. It's because I've just heard a screaming, excited Principessa running down the stairs shouting:

Yay! Pancakes! Pancakes! PANCAKES!

Do you think she likes pancakes?

Mostly back on form!

So I can now concentrate fully on the 60s. My essay mark is back (well predicted, Michael) and I feel so much better. 84%! Woohoo! I feel quite happy with the comments, just need to work out the integrative bit now. Which I shall. *Determined* I just hope that TMA09 hasn't scuppered my chances of passing this course.

The only thing now is, I'm wondering if I should do a language and literature degree. Hmmm. I know that there is a children's literature course starting in 2009 sometime (U300, I think), and I would very much like to try it, but I'm definitely not going to try it without doing some form of literature course at level 2 first. So, that would now mean doing A210 and U211 once the creative writing course has finished.

Now, on to toying with the idea of transfering my Blogger blog onto a Wordpress blog... Choices, choices.

Cloverfield

I have finally had the chance to see Cloverfield. Well, I was dubious, as it had been dubbed the Blair Witch meets Godzilla (I hated Blair Witch, it bored me stupid). I can see why, but there was much more to hold the attention in Cloverfield . Unlike BW, I did find that ball of anxiety in my chest during the tunnels and exploding friend scenes. However, I didn't think it was amazing. That may have been due to watching it on TV. I can see how the tension could have been built watching it on the big screen. But, I did enjoy it. Not got more to say on it than that.

On the subject of films though, one of my favourite films happened to be on yesterday. What was the film? The Princess Bride. I love it! I have never read the book - a flaw on my part - but I am worried that if I read the book the shiny of the film might be marred. Now, this isn't like me. I would rather read a book than take a film based on the book at face value. The Princess Bride is a different matter though. I love that film so much, I can watch it over and over again, that I don't want to read the book in case it does affect my enjoyment of the film. See, I might have enjoyed Eragon if I hadn't read the book, but the glaring omissions in that film just made me angry. So, I don't know if I will ever get to reading William Goldman's book.

As for returns of essays... I'm still waiting. *Sigh* I'm finding it hard to concentrate on the 60s when I don't know how I fared on the last essay. However, I am slowly trudging through the science section. I think I am quite certain that I will tackle science in the next essay, and possibly music and history, though having done okay with the art sections... We'll see. I think doing the history part is a given, just because to tackle periodisation you can hardly ignore it.

And to finish; the best swordfight (or fencing duel, I'm not sure!) in film!

Crazy baby, little monkey.

Hmm, that sounds like some weird and wonderful parody of a martial arts film in the same vein as Crouching Tiger...

So, I am trudging through the 60s block with my brains dribbling out of my ears. As much as I like old Arthur's writing style, I do think he suffered a little with verbal diarrhoea. His repetitive, driving points home affirmations are not what bothers me, it's all the "in so far"'s and other little phrases of the sort that pepper each chapter. That is what is driving me up the wall! I can't wait for this block to be over!

This, however, is both relevant and brilliant!



And I can't wait for the creative writing course to start. I can feel my Combat Foxes (otherwise known as The Muse) cavorting around in my head, finding interesting phrases and inserting them into interesting situations. I think there is a new story, though an old idea, doing aerobics to get my attention. I am still pondering on whether I should write part of the whole idea as a short story though. Maybe I will, and use it as one of the TMAs. So I shall let it gestate some more.

The beauty of speech.

I love Principessa's way of talking.

Last night, she was happily playing away on Nanny's computer when she decided that it was too loud. She turned to Nanny and said:

• I shall just turn this down, and then my ears wont go blind.

Brilliant! But as I giggled about her turn of phrase I did begin to wonder...Maybe Principessa is a sound to colour synesthesiac. You never know!

Evil banana counter-culture.

Okay, so the picture is a bit blurry, blame the crappy camera with no manual focus. But, this morning, I took two bananas from the fruit draw for Principessa and me. I went into the front room, sat down and went to peel the banana, but I was stopped in my tracks when I saw that horrible white growth on the skin. Now, you can't see it from the pic, but there is a hole in the front of the growth, so I think it must be a spider egg sac. Eeeeuuuuggghhhh! I am just hoping that whatever was in it, spider, bug, alien, that it hatched before the banana bunch came into the house.

It's weird when you look at it close, it almost has the same appearance as the sherbert-filled UFOs. It still makes me cringe, though!

There is no (60s) spoon!

(Pic from www.ew.com)

So, I was reading some of the 60s stuff last night, mostly the bits about periodisation, and whether the 60s can be identified as a specific period of history. One of the exercises was to read an excerpt from a book about 60s counter-culture, see below. Now, apart from actually mentioning the word 'matrix', it almost reads like some sort of deconstruction of 'The Matrix'.

[...] But from my own point of view, the counter culture, far more than merely ‘meriting’ attention, desperately requires it, since I am at a loss to know where, besides among these dissenting young people and their heirs of the next few generations, the radical discontent and innovation can be found that might transform this disoriented civilization of ours into something a human being can identify as home. They are the matrix in which an alternative, but still excessively fragile future is taking shape. Granted that alternative comes dressed in a garish motley, its costume borrowed from many and exotic sources – from depth psychiatry, from the mellowed remnants of left-wing ideology, from the oriental religions, from Romantic Weltschmerz [agony over the state of the world], from anarchist social theory, from Dada and American Indian lore, and, I suppose, the perennial wisdom. Still it looks to me like all we have to hold against the final consolidation of a technocratic totalitarianism in which we shall find ourselves ingeniously adapted to an existence wholly estranged from everything that has ever made the life of man an interesting adventure.

If the resistance of the counter culture fails, I think there will be nothing in store for us but what anti-utopians like Huxley and Orwell have forecast – though I have no doubt that these dismal despotisms will be far more stable and effective than their prophets have foreseen. [...]

From Theodore Roszak, Preface to The Making of a Counter Culture (1970 edition)

I love the matrix line - "They are the matrix in which an alternative, but still excessively fragile future is taking shape." I really like the idea that the counter-culture is the matrix, rather than the society that the counter-culture is opposed. It makes me wonder if the Wachowski brothers had read this passage, because it really does fill your mind with fantastical ideas!

I think I must be going mad! This is what happens when you study in the dead of night... Things become something else! 'There is no counter-culture!'

Why the angry ball of fog?

Here's some more Principessa art. I love the little green man/woman - I'm not sure - wearing a very fetching hat. I'm not so sure about the angry green cloud following behind....

Do you think there should be a *parp* noise there too?

Ooohhhh...

This would make me happy. How I miss the Buffy/Angel Thursday night happy...

At least that's some good news...

(Pic from www.bbc.co.uk/sport)

Woohoo!

Andy Murray has just won his first Masters event. He beat Novak Djokovic 7-6 (7-4), 7-6 (7-5) at Cincinnati. Well done that boy!

Unfortunately, I can't comment on the match, as I don't have Sky sports so I can't watch the Masters matches!

Holy heck! She scribbled shite!

Sorry for the bad language, but hmph! I think I may have failed the whole course. I have just finished TMA09, and boy, does my head hurt. I decided to go with art history and poetry, simply because I had forgotten to take my Ipod with me so I couldn't do the music, and the philosophy question scared the hell out of me! I am hoping that the art has saved me, as I feel more at ease with that than anything else. I think I could have managed the music well, but ah well, stupid me for not having the music piece with me. The poetry... well, the less said about that the better. I must have written the biggest load of poo ever! I will have my fingers crossed for months now while I wait for the results (I think the results come out in December). Wow, do I feel sick right now.

You know, I don't think I'm cut out to do an arts/humanities degree. Nevertheless, onwards with the 60s block. Not tonight, though!

Is thinking a thought experiment?

If I could make Chewbacca noises, that's what I'd be doing right now. My brain is on overload with revising for TMA09. At the moment I am reading through the Rousseau philosophy stuff, though I will have to reread the philosophy from block 1. I have decided that I will get it done tomorrow night, once Principessa is asleep. I want it done and out of the way before next week. That way I can concentrate on TMA08, which I am dreading. I'm not looking forward to wading through Mr Marwick's verbose history of the 60s.

Speaking of Principessa... She is driving me crazy lately, answering back all the time. She has decided that being told off is a request, and will shout 'No thanks' at me when I do tell her off. It would be funny if it wasn't infuriating! If that's not enough, she is becoming really handy with her fists if she doesn't get her own way. Argh! I just don't know what to do. She is getting far too strong for me, every day seems like a constant struggle!

Ah well. I suppose I'd better get back to the revision instead of looking through my new sumi-e books. Ooohh, it looks all so interesting, and so relaxing, that I can't wait to get started on it. But I have to. I need to get this humanities course wrapped up before I stress out! But what I'd like to know is why someone was searching the internet for 'Myra Hindley in a leather skirt'? Very intriguing. (How do I know that someone was searching for this? Well, it came up in the feedburner stats this morning. The search pointed to my blog from comments made at this post.)