The aftermath

Well.  The Big Dress event, eh?  It's pretty hard to sum it up.  It was exhausting, stressful and busy and I did NO REVISION AT ALL.  One day I'll learn.

However, I enjoyed it.

It felt like a festival - lots of sun and sitting on the grass.

I developed my conflict resolution skills.

Tony was an invaluable deputy and we had an amazing team of stewards.  I'm still trying to work out how to put into words their wonderfulness so I can email them all and thank them.

I was called a fascist by a stand-up comedian due to my concern for fire safety and then was called upon to put out a fire in a litter bin - see the picture!

We had quite a few stressful times due to football-related disputes, plans changing, barbecues in bins, lost radios (which have turned out not to be lost after all) and a serious sleep-shortage.

Nothing makes me feel competent quite like this.  We did a great job.  The Big Dress event made a difference, and it made it well and safely because of what we stewards did, and they could do that partly because of what I did.  I think when you find something you're really good at, you should do it as well and as often as you can.

I also finished my exams today so am rejoicing in all my free time.  Despite my lack of revision and general tiredness, I think I did ok.

On the home straight

I've been writing essays.  I've started revising.  I've been compiling crazy rotas juggling about 30 people's complicated lives.  I've been making lists and checking them twice.  and tomorrow I'm heading off to Sheffield for The Big Dress event.  I'm in charge of the stewards.  And I'm taking my revision notes with me.

It does feel hectic - I feel like I've been working for about 9 months solid.  But this time next week I'll have done my stewarding and finished my exam - and I'm really looking forward to the break!

New! New! New!

I'm sitting in my kitchen writing this.  This is exciting because my computer is in the attic.  My old computer, that is.  After months of deliberation, investigation and saving up money, I've bought a macbook.  The novelty of being able to check my email anywhere in the house is immense and incredibly enjoyable.

My computers have all been old, slow and inherited, put together from leftover parts from other people's computers, and tended with much love by Matt.  So it's very exciting to get to choose a computer.  Having itunes which doesn't have Matt's dubious taste in music on is amazing.  Having a computer that is completely empty and waiting for me to fill it up with my rubbish is very exciting.

It's also exciting because I'm new to macs.  So far it is beautiful, but slightly frustrating - trying to cut and paste is near impossible...  It just doesn't work like a pc.  It's supposed to all work together beautifully, but working out how to get it to do that can be a challenge.

And it's new because I'm on my own.  Matt is pretty good with pcs and has always looked after mine.  I'm good with software and the internet, but I know nothing about hardware*.  Matt knows nothing at all about macs.  It's kind of exciting but just a little bit scary...

Right, I'm going to have a bath.  But even I, new to macs as I am, know not to try to check my email in the bath...

*Apart from graphics cards.  Due to my old one being rubbish and my computer being too rubbish to run anything better, I've spent a lot of time taking graphics cards in and out of my computer.  I know how to do that!

Things I can tell you...

It's been a while. I'm writing about The Homelessness Act 2002 - it's actually really interesting - and preparing for SPEAK's Network Gathering, which I'm organising the stewarding for. And visiting my nephew, who is amazing.

I can, however, tell you that there's nothing much wrong with my heart or brain. I have learnt the following:

• I have episodes of sinus tachchardia.
• My brain MRI was 'unremarkable'. Thanks.
• I don't appear to have any inter-ictal epileptiform disturbance. I can only assume this is a good thing. In fact, I can only really assume that all of the above are good things.

I'll keep you posted.

I'd also like to recommend Patroclus's investigation of gender bias on the Guardian's letter pages, which I am currently loving...

Too many pies?

Turns out she wasn't lying. I wondered if my sister had just eaten too many pies.

But no, here I am with baby Jake, who is two days old.

Trusting

As so often happens, once I start thinking*, I head towards discussing feminism, and the downsides of conservative evangelicalism in restricting my thinking about this. And Merlin says "Ah, you see, my belief tells me that women can do just as much as men. And my god agrees."

I think, I'm not sure I'd want to have my god agreeing with me. But here's my new question - what's the point of god? I appreciate that it's possible for things to exist without a purpose - and if god exists, god exists without needing to have a purpose for me**. But...

1. If God isn't bigger than me, and doesn't know more than me, what is the point in relating to him/her/it?

2. If God is bigger than me and does know more than me, doesn't that mean I just have to do what they advise? I'm really not interested in just doing what I'm told - it doesn't sound much fun.

I was trying to work this out by discussing it with a friend. I miss God loving me and having a good plan which I'm part of - a sense of purpose. But I don't want to lose my freedom and independence and go back to living within narrow rules.

She asks, what if God doesn't have a plan? I say I can't imagine God not having a plan - that's too much part of what God is for me to comprehend God being God without it.

Ok. She asks, if God had a plan, but was a tyrant, a complete dictator who just wanted veryone to do what they were told, what then? Well, I wouldn't be interested. Turns out goodness is more important that the plan.

What it comes down to is, if God doesn't know everything, how can I trust God? She asks "do you trust me?". I see what she means. I trust her, within her limitations of knowledge and understanding. Can I trust a limited God?

*It's true, I do think, they took some pictures of my brain this week and there really is one there. And it has brainwaves coming out of it and everything.
**my theology takes a while to make much sense.

belonging

I got my promotion. I'm looking forward to finding out where I'll be managing, what it's like and starting to make my own decisions. And to getting paid.

I went away with Sanctus this weekend. I had a lot of fun, drank a moderate amount of alcohol and thought until my brain felt like it had been trodden on.

I started coming out as some sort of atheist a while ago - I used to believe passionately in god, but with a lot of turbulence. I got a bit tired and decided to have a holiday from trying so bloody hard, and hopefully discover something about what I believed from what floated to the top at the end of it all (this may be something of a mixed-metaphor experience...).

Unfortunately there wasn't much left floating. I discovered that I had no real sense of any sort of god existing. But I discovered intellectual freedom along the way, and the real joy of feminism... However, there's something to be said for believing that someone created the world and that that someone loves meand has a plan for my life. I'm left feeling slightly purposeless and less loved. And less like a lovely person. My life just feels slightly... flat.

So I went away this weekend hoping to at least think a little about what I might believe. I realised that Sanctus is very important to me. I find a sense of community, safety and acceptance that makes me hope there is perhaps something more than just us. I'm not sure I can believe that it is just the result of a lot of people trying to create something good. It keeps me hanging in because it's something I want to be part of.

Dave Tomlinson, who wrote the post-evanglical, which I thought at one point might save my faith, came and talked with us about ourselves and about what he thinks. It was thought proviking. He talked about god's kingdom as a spirit of life and liberation. I don't have any ability to believe in a personal, intervening god but maybe a spirit of life and liberation is somewhere I can start exploring from - less crude than just good and evil.

And I thought about my place in sanctus. Socially I feel very part of sanctus - I can turn up, say what I think and feel secure. I feel that I belong. Spiritually, I feel less inside - a community is built on shared values and, not believing in God, I haven't felt like I have so much to say. But I think I've realised that I have things to contribute. I'm not pastoral like some people, or particularly wise - things you would associate with being part of a church community thing. But I've been to lots of places in my faith, and I can organise things and ask interesting questions, and cook an awesome pudding. I've realised that maybe I need to be giving, and see myself as someone who has things to give, in order to grow. Some theologians have talked about belonging without believing, and maybe that's where I need to start in order to believe.

Tampopo/Juno

On Friday night I went out with friends from Sanctus1. We started off in the new Tampopo at the Triangle in Manchester. It's Asian fusion food - I had Mee Goreng Chicken, getting in practice for my trip to Indonesia in the summer, followed by chocolate icecream. I really liked the style - long benches, so you could end up sitting next to a random stranger - good for a night out with friends but possibly not for a romantic dinner... The staff were very friendly and helpful and the food was delicious, though reasonably spicy - so not ideal if you don't like spicy food at all. The only small problem we had was that one person's main course was burnt so she sent it back and it was replaced with something undercooked, followed by the wrong pudding - although again this was speedily replaced. Definitely worth another visit.

After this we saw Juno - a fantastic film about a pregnant teenager. It was unmoralistic - no goodies or baddies, just flawed people dealing with problems as they arise - unsentimental and very funny – it reminded me of Napoleon Dynamite in its style. The acting was fantastic – so much shown without any words. I was concerned about the portrayal of the potential adoptive couple - a neurotic woman desperate for a baby with a husband who just wasn't sure: a bit of a cliched gender stereotype - but because of the strengths of the characters each person was an individual rather than representative of a group. Equally, there's been some debate about whether Juno is pro-life but I think the decision is portrayed as an individual one, set in the context of being 16 and pregnant, rather than a comment on all abortions everywhere, ever. One thing I loved was Juno's immaturity -she was funny and clever but the state of pregnancy didn't make her suddenly wiser, more virtuous or more mature - there was no suggestion that being pregnant makes you an adult, or a woman, or that pregnancy is the ultimate state for all women. And it managed all this with hardly any showing of sex or babies...

Here comes the sun...

I have been reasonably successful in having more fun - I was out every night last week and did not cook once.  This did result in me feeling quite ill and thinking I might faint/fit on Saturday.  I will refine my goal somewhat - have more fun without making myself ill.

I got a hospital appointment letter for 19th Feb and was quite impressed.  Then realised I'd been mis-referred - it said ECG* rather than EEG**.  Turns out I'm having an ECG as well as an EEG and brain scan - Matt claims the doctor said he was sending me for one.  I was quite alarmed.  I'd come to terms with maybe having a weird brain but I appear not to be prepared for having a heart problem.

I'm applying for a job (regen stuff in Salford) and struggling to (a) convey just how amazing I am and (b) work out how to fill in bits of the form.  For example, do I count as being disqualified from driving or does that just count for people who got caught drink-driving?  Can I put that I've got a license and then explain that I can't use it or is it better just to say no?  Do I say I have a disability, when the job doesn't actually ask for driving and that's the only bit I really have difficulties with?  Do I even count as disabled?  I've only had one fit.  But my day-to-day functioning is impaired in that I can't drive.  But then lots of people's day to day functioning is equally impaired by not managing to pass their driving test.  I don't have epilepsy, just a good excuse to see pictures of the inside of my brain.  Does not knowing how to answer questions on a job application count as an impairment?  Fortunately there is a very helpful equality and diversity person at Salford Council who will hopefully ring me up and help me work out what to put.  

But now that it's getting light again, I'm feeling happy.  Life is worth living when it's sunny outside...

*heart-thingy

** brain thingy

Revelation/revolution

I had a revelation last weekend.

I went to visit some friends of mine and they asked about things like my mother-in-law's wedding (in November) - I realised I hadn't seen them since October*.

I saw this** and laughed a lot, and it felt rather nice to be laughing and feeling endorphin-y, and it was a bit sobering to realise that I clearly don't laugh enough.

I realised: my life is shit.

Again, this isn't technically true. But I eat, sleep, work and study. This isn't a life. So I've decided. If I'm not good enough at studying to do well enough and see my friends and have fun, I'll just have to not be good enough. It's not the end of a career, just the curtailage of a particular career path.

So, I have a plan:

1. When I'm working, work hard. My time is valuable.
2. See my friends. Accept invitations. Arrange to see people. Have fun.
3. Find a new job. My ideal would be to get a Neighbourhood Management Officer job and do that for a few years and then move into strategy, research or policy. But, if no NMO jobs come up soon, I'll look for something else, somewhere else. I'm not feeling challenged enough and I need more responsibility. I like it where I work and I'd like to keep working there. But not doing this.

So. I went to Sanctus on Wednesday and saw people, and it was interesting. I met up with a friend for coffee and we talked about SPEAK stuff. And I'm starting planning the stewarding for a speak event in May. It involves a comedy night on the Sunday. Subject to not getting knackered organising stewarding, I'm going to restart my comedy by putting a short routine together. I'm excited because I love doing it.

I have decided. My life will be better.

I was going to blog about evolution and where the world comes from. Maybe next time...

*This turns out to be untrue. I saw them at a Christmas dinner.

**Too lazy to do my own linking, but Merlin's blog is very thought-provoking, so it's worth a visit. I'll be like the internet tourist board for a minute.

Eureka! A kick in the stomach...

I would like to direct you to Nine Tenths Full of Penguins talking about Sigur Ros, who I unreasonably claim to dislike, and a moment of thrill he got when first hearing one of their songs.

I can't claim to have felt anything much when listening to it, but I did just get my own little jump-in-the-stomach feeling (no, not a baby, silly!).

I have been dragging on and on with an essay. It's always a worry, reading stuff, having no real sense of where I'm going to end up, and the terrible paralysising fear that I'm going to have nothing to say. Nothing at all. I'll work so hard and just tell the lecturer what all these other people said, and he'll say, well, yes, I knew that, that is why I am the lecturer and you are the tudent. Have a 35% fail.

And then, suddenly, I am writing the essay, and I look at what I've written about Single Regeneration Budget funding. And I look at what I want to write about the Pre-Volunteer Programme at the Commonwealth Games. And I realise... I can argue that the PVP was very successful, but the criticisms of it are the same as the criticisms of the SRB, and I can argue that it's likely that it was successful despite being SRB funded, and I realise that I have an argument! It may not be true and it may not be write, but it works!!!!!

So, obviously, I blog about it rather than writing my essay.

Now go back to advising me on laptops.

Technological advice request...

Ok, my clever and technologically aware friends, I am thinking of buying a lap-top in the near future and would like some advice. My current desktop is a bit old and slow and gets tired and confused when asked to do too many things. And I'd like to be able to work all over the house and occasionally take it out and about with me - to work on the train, at university or at my mother-in-law's in Skye, for example.

I want to use it to:

1. Look at Facebook.
2. Listen to the comedy programme I like on Radio 4, which was on yesterday, in the kitchen, rather than Front Row.
3. Store all my photos and every essay I have ever written, plus 50 versions of my cv, just in case I do need an out-of-date cv to apply for an admin job at some point.
4. Listen to music.
5. Skype my best friend in Indonesia. I liked the idea of having a webcam to do this, until she pointed out that their internet connection is too poor to support webcam use and talking at the same time. But still...
6. Have 13 journal articles open at the same time.
7. Play World of Warcraftbadly and sulk because all my friends have levelled their characters faster than me. I maintain this is because I have a life.

I'd like to get something which will last me a long time and won't need replacing too soon. I'm expecting to spend more than £500 but hopefully not too much more. If it looked nice that would be a bonus, and if it was light and mobile, that would also be a bonus, but fairly low down my list of priorities. If could have a big screen for playing WoW, but still be small and easy to carry, that would be... miraculous?

So, advice? Who makes good laptops? What do you find really useful in yours? How do you find it for playing games? Any recommendations?

Thanks!

: )

I can tell when I'm happy. I sing, badly, while rushing round the house randomly.

Today, finally, I feel happy again. I am looking at a catalogue of archived material from the 2002 Manchester Commonwealth Games, trying to decide which bits I really need to look at when I take a trip to the Central Library on Thursday morning. The bit I really need, the SRB bid, is restricted access, so they may not let me look at it.

I go to put some washing on and make a drink and find myself singing, very badly, to the bits I can remember of Earth Song. I am happy.

If only they didn't make me go to work, I could be this happy all the time.

I suppose it is possible work don't send me on this course just to make me happy.



p.s. I have an appointment with a neurodude at Tameside hospital on 2nd Feb. Hope wasn't even an option. Unless I'd like to sit on a waiting list for a very long time. No thanks, I'd rather be allowed to drive again.

Pretty shoes...

So, I'm still worrying about the seizures - every time I feel 'funny' I wonder if I'm going to have another one. I try not to tell Matt every time I'm worried - there's no point in both of us worrying all the time. And he'd only try to ring me to check I'm ok, and I would have left my phone on silent, and he'd have to decide whether to rush home to check I'm not dead. Life has got slightly more complicated recently.

I'm also back to worrying about my essays. One is due on 18th and one on 25th January. I've emailed the course leader and my personal tutor to explain I'm having difficulties - I've been tired since the fit - I tried to do an hour's studying last Sunday and had to have an hour's nap in the afternoon. My personal tutor is amazing. She rings me up and runs through the options with me. I'm hoping to be allowed to put one essay off until the summer. Now I just have to try to work up the energy to study rather than look at Facebook.

I had lots of fun shopping yesterday - I'm going to a New Year's Eve cocktail party. Clearly I need a new dress. And some pretty shoes. I found both... though I am still no good at shoe-shopping - I wished to invoke the spirit of L1z but had to manage on my own... Which I did...



It was harder than you would imagine to find a pair of shoes with less than a 4" heel. I've decided that when there's a season of clothing which really suits you, you should run out and buy everything you can find as it will not happen again for at least four years...

Not driving home for Christmas

Well, I have some news... I had a seizure last night. The world all went grey and buzzy and I collapsed. Fortunately I was with Matt so he caught me (mostly...) then I had a bit of a fit on the floor. To me it just felt like a big faint but Matt says I stopped breathing, went all rigid and was post-icstil (that is my guess at spelling - it means 'how people look after they've had a fit' and apparently only happens after someone's fitted).

So Matt called an ambulance, who took almost an hour to arrive, they tried to claim I'd probably fainted (it can be beneficial to have a paramedic for a husband!) and took me away to Tameside hospital, where we stayed until about 3.30 am. They did a whole load of tests, which said I was fine and not pregnant...

I went to my doctor this morning. He said he thought it was a vasovegal, which is a blackout due to low blood pressure caused by a fight-or-flight response. This was reassuring until Matt said it really wasn't a vasovegal.

So I've been referred to a neurologist and am not allowed to drive until I've been cleared. This is a world of suck, but I'll live with it. It ruins my Christmas plans to drive over to my parents' while Matt works nights but I really will live with that - I'm not really up for killing myself or others...

We've also remembered a 'fainting' episode I had about 5 years ago - I think Christmas is a trigger! I got up in the night to get a drink and collapsed in the kitchen. Matt found me after about 5 minutes, woke me up and I was horribly sick. Matt put it down to me eating about a kilo of mixed fruit and nuts, but the more I think about it the more it seemed similar to this. We'll see.

I'm not keen on being epileptic but it wouldn't be the end of the world - it's manageable. What I can't bear is the thought of losing my driving licence after less than a year, and losing the whole range of driving-licence-necessary job opportunities that I tried so hard to get it for.

Regenerating

I'm in the library printing off approximately 350 pages or so of journal articles in preparation for my next assignment. I'm writing a report on a central government regeneration policy, evaluating it and comparing it to a local implementation of that policy. the idea is to reflect on what works in regeneration.

I'm looking at the Single Regeneration Budget, an attempt by the Conservatives in 1994 to streamline a whole range of funding pots, which was carried on by Labour until the early 2000s. My local example is the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester which used funding from Round 5 of the SRB to attempt to leave a regeneration legacy. I don't have any real conclusions at the moment but I'm hoping it will come together at some point... I'm thinking about focussing on whether the volunteer programme actually increased skills for local people, particularly in East Manchester, but I will have to see what I can actually find...

I am feeling very encouraged in my studying at the moment. I've really enjoyed writing these essays, apart from the stress of trying to get them finished and not having enough time to get beyond the beginning of an argument. And being expected to do things like go to work and cook dinner and go out to see friends occasionally. I think I'd quite happily sit in my attic in my pyjamas thinking about things, emerging occasionally to make coffee... I've had a couple of marks back - I got 68% for a report on the Hills Review and 74% for a timed essay* on Housing Market Renewal. I still have another essay due back, which should be posted to me by Christmas - the lecturer kindly told us that a few people had done exceptionally well, most were average and a few people seemed to be really struggling, leaving us all imagining we're the ones who'll be re-sitting come July. Guess I'd better work really hard on this essay just in case!

*an exam trying to sound less threatening

Good morning?

Well, I'm definitely a student again.

With an essay due tomorrow, I have sayed up nearly all night to get it finished. I'm not sure it's the best essay ever, but at 5 am I fnd it hard to care.

Well, I suppose I'll get 3 hours of sleep. I'm almost tempted to go to sleep in my clothes to save time getting dressed in the morning.

But only almost...

In the bleak mid-winter

I am looking forward to the day that cryostasis becomes reality. I will get them to stick me in the deep freeze round about mid-october and take me out again in mid- to late-march. I will even co-ordinate my departure and arrival so it gets dark at roughly the same time so I won't feel disorientated, like I do when the clocks go back.

I suppose the alternative would be to spend six months of the year in Australia. That would be a little less pleasingly sci-fi though.

If I die...

$4225.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth.

Miami Dating

Over £2000 - though it wouldn't even pay off my student loans...

What's wrong with this picture?

I've just got back from an extremely fun weekend of being ridiculed by my Greenbelt support steward friends. I'm quite tired, due to staying up too late and drinking a lot (but not falling over or being sick this time).

I drove down. It's the first time I've driven such a long way - we were near Chepstow, on South Wales.

Let's look at the stats:

Distance home: 168 miles.
Time taken to get home: about 4 hours
Incidents of swearing at drivers: twice, in my head.

Distance there: 180 miles
Time taken to get there: nearly 5.5 hours
Incidents of swearing at drivers: numerous, at high volume

Let's see if there's any reason for this discrepancy:

On the way down, I gave a friend a lift. Let's call him... Handbag... to protect his identity. So we set off. I have excellent directions provided by the friend we're staying with. I give the directions to Handbag. We're driving down the M6 and it's reasonably busy. Handbag suggests the M6 Toll road to avoid congestions. I ask if we can still get on our route. Handbag assures me that we can. We drive down the M6 Toll and look for signs onto the M5, our next road. Turns out this is via the M42. I think this is a bit odd. Oh well.

Handbag rings the friend we're staying with to tell her where we're up to. She expresses some surprise that we're on the M42. She then rings Guilty* who is also driving up. He's some way along the M5, which is jam-packed, and knows the M42, which is also jam-packed. He wets himself laughing.

If you look at the larger map andcan see our journey, you might see where we went wrong...


View Larger Map

Obviously, I blame Handbag.

Not that the journey back was over an hour qicker, despite everything above Cheltenham being wreathed in fog (I learnt where my fog lights are). Moral of the story? Don't believe people when they tell you they can map-read.

*Yes, all my friends really do have weird names.