Tuesday, February 28, 2006

The thing is,

It's not so much the loss if Iain that has me so disappointed as the loss of what he represented; namely, hope.

It was a lot easier to get through my day to day life when I had no hope, when I had factually accepted that my life would be my own, that I would never have to ask someone else's opinion on what color i should paint a room, or what to eat, or where to vacation. It was much easier to go through life cheerfully bitter at half the human race, productively angry, but without the constant crushing doubt and disappointment.

For example, every day when I wake up, I am not sad that I didn't win the lottery. I never expected to. It's so utterly beyond the realm of possibility that there's no point in wasting emotional energy on hoping for it.

In the same way, I considered meeting someone who fancied me equally beyond the realm of shit that might one day conceivably happen. I think it's more likely a large meteor will colide with the earth and destroy 99.9% of life as we know it. And frankly at the moment that doesn't sound too bad.

I think the whole dating service thing was a bad idea. Sure, I met a couple cool guys, I had a few fun nights out, but ultimately, the disappointment isn't worth it. It got my hopes up you see. It had been years since I had had any real hope. And the hope of the dating service was artificial. (by the way HC, his profile said he was "looking for a serious relationship," so i don't think it was a committment issue. but who knows.) The hope is false, and it just makes it worse in the end.

The dissappointment isn't worth it.

The hope isn't worth it.

I don't want to feel anymore.

I just want to go back to being my cheerfully bitter self, hating men in general and a few in particlar and blaming them for not having been properly kissed until the ripe old age of 27. (Did i mention I found a couple wrinkles last week? I did. I thought the grey hair was bad, but now i have proper wrinkles too.) So I'm declaring myself a spinster and an old maid and saying to the world:

FUCK IT. It's not worth it. You're not worth it. I have work to do.

Spoke too soon

Just got this email from the illustrious Iain:

"I just wanted to say that it has been great getting to know you and spending some time with you. I know that you are very busy and have a full life and so I don’t want to waste any of your time. I wanted to tell you that I don’t feel it would be right for me for anything romantic to happen between us in the near future. That’s not to say that I don’t think you are a fantastic person and I have really enjoyed the time spent with you. Anyway, sorry, I feel like a bit of a twat saying this.
Maybe I am flattering myself thinking that was a possibility for us. I don’t know how you feel about this. If that is what you are looking for while you are in Bristol then I hope you find it."

Don't know what happened.

I thought it was going so well.

What did I do wrong?...


I can't help but feel right now that i was a fool to even hope. Who am i kidding? No one wants me. No one has ever wanted me. No one ever will.

So empty.

Going to die now.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

I promised you details,

so here's details:

thursday was fucking freezing and drizzly/snowy. so we scrapped plans to go for long walk and met at cozy pub. Talked, lauged, drank beer (don't tell O Captain My Captain -- i'm supposed to be on an alcohol prohibition).

went to cafe' that serves nothing but chocolate in all forms. had gourmet hot chocolate. contemplated Man's lovely accent.

decided chocolate had fortified us against cold sufficiently to attempt short walk. crossed clifton bridge, wandered around national trust forest. enjoyed scenice overlooks. basked in glow of company, was impervious to cold. wondered why in hell glowing Man company wasn't madly kissing me in the gree, misty ambiance.

suddenly in DIRE need of wee. do you understand DIRE? oh my god the pain!!! that kind of dire. normally i am perfectly happy to wee in woods (prefer them over toilets to be honest), but didn't want to freak out Man on second date. casually mentioned need of loo. walked doubletime back to bridge where there is public toilet. Saw pretty birds on the way.

went back to pub where we began for food. had venison sausage and mash, and cider. faboo meal, all the better for the company. did NOT want to go home. not alone, anyway. Man offered to give me lift home on his dashing steed (manufactured by Ford). Man is taking me to concert next week. Invited him to mine for dinner beforehand. kindly accepted.

current status: scavenging city for attractive, affordable candleholders and racking my brain for what to cook a scottish buddhist vegetarian!!! (i'm polish and german; if it ain't sausage, it ain't a meal. see above.) present menu plan: asparagus and mushroom risotto, baked yams, greens salad, and apple pie for pud. whadda ya think?

oh, and he gave me a cd of the singer we're going to hear next week. thoughtful, yes?

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Dear Hedrix-Cat,

At this time I would like to officially inform you that his name is "Iain," with an extra 'i.' Though in the casual format of emails and texts he doesn't normally bother including it, that is the way it is properly spelled (spelt?) on his birth certificate. That's right, mi amiga, FOUR LETTERS.

Let the games begin. *smiles sheepishly*

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Slow goin'

Today I went to a lecture. I don't know what it was about. Something about Shakespeare, I think. Or maybe it was about a concept for which Shakespeare was just and example. Anyway, I'm sure I heard Shakespeare mentioned once or twice. The problem was that the guy spoke s o s l o w l y that it took him 5 minutes or more to finish a thought. I'm not kidding, by the time he got to then end of a sentece I'd already forgotten how it began. It was like being lectured by William Shatner. On vallium. Oy vey.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Hamster Daaaaaaance!!!!!

Everybody do your little happy dance! (Right now, in the library, or your office. wherever. go ahead - no one's looking.)

Why are we doing our little happy dances, I hear you ask?

Because we have a Hamster! Whee!

You are now all officially Uncle Herebe and Auntie Hendrix and Uncle Sal and Auntie Spinster and Aunti Ezri and everyone else reading this and I'm sorry if I forgot your name but my brain isn't working as my heart's just been stolen by a smally furry little grey guy with buggey eyes and wee little paws. *all together now*: Awww!"

Photos to follow shortly.

Saturday, February 18, 2006


I am officially no longer a conference virgin: this afternoon i popped my academic cherry at the Bristol CMS conference on invention and discovery in the middle ages. I spoke on the use of intensifiers in Chaucer and Gower, and a few other dead dudes. I think it went well. *bows*

Friday, February 17, 2006

Vogon Invasion

Vogons are taking over the University. I shit you not. They withheld 1/3 of my paycheck in taxes, which they weren't supposed to do. I wanted my money back.

I started with the office that employs me, the Disabled Access Office.

They sent me to the Student Finance Office,

Who sent me to the International Affairs Office (where they orchestrate sleezy liasons with sultry South Americans),

who sent me to the Cash Office (yes, it really is called that),

who sent me to the General Finance Office (is any of this sounding redundant to you?),

who sent me to the Payroll Office.

Where I explained the story for the umpteenth time and asked what I needed to do. I won't bore you with the details of the three conversations I had with three different people who gave me three different answers ranging from simply "nothing" to "you need a national insurance number. to get that you have to call the IRS* office, ask if they can see you in person, if yes, make an appointment, and fill out these forms in triplicate."

"and that will help me get my taxes back?" i asked.

"Oh heavens no!" the man with the gooey eyes said. "That has nothing to do with taxes."

Never mind that i began that conversation with "HOW DO I GET MY TAXES REFUNDED???"

I left before the poetry started.

*whatever the british equivalent of the IRS is. i forget. i hope i never know.

But i'm in a good mood. I had a teriffic evening last night. Ian was lovely. Very quiet kind of guy. Very calm. Motormouth that i am i had to stop myself occasionally to let him get a word in edgewise. he's not the type to just leap in to a conversation. he waits for it to be passed to him. So i need to be more sentisitve to that. He's intelligent, thougthful, laid back, SKINNY (oh my lord i'm pretty sure i could bench press him), and pleasant. The worst thing I have to say about him is that he slouches. Absolutely appalling posture. I don't know if that signifies anything (H-C?). We have the same taste in beer. That's gotta be a good sign. And we're definately going out again. Whee! So life is, for the most part, good.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Contradictions in advertising

In case you can't read the label here, it says "Real Acrylic Ice." I'm not making this up. This is a bag of plastic, excuse me, acrylic, "ice" cubes.

And in the same vein as the "real acrylic ice" we have "fresh soured cream." I love this one, really. It's a mad mad mad mad world.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Pibs, tags, and VDs

First of all, if you're not a regular Pibgorn reader (and you should be), do nothing else until you have read today's strip. Brooke is beginning a new storyline today, so this is a good point to jump in. And if this first strip is anything to by, this promises to be a fucking awesome series. (Link is on the sidebar.)

Next on the agenda: It would seem i've been "tagged." Actually, this happened some time ago, but I don't actually know anything about internet culture or manners. Sorry TB, I wasn't ignoring you, I just had no idea what being tagged was. Apparently it's a bit like a blog chain letter. Ok, i'll play along.


Four jobs I've had:

1 Office bitch for grouchy architect
2 Personal assistant to a university president
3 Lab rat
4 Plant doctor

Four movies I can watch over and over:

1 Star Wars Episodes 4-6
2 Rob Roy
3 Monty Python and the Holy Grail
4 Shine

Four places I have lived:

1 The birthplace of the Republican Party (I'm not proud of this)
2 Ivory Tower, Connecticut
3 Rich Conservative, Massachusetts
4 Industrial Slum, England

Four television shows I love to watch:

1 Star Trek: The Next Generation
2 West Wing
3 Penn & Teller's Bullshit!
4 The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
(This of course on the rare occasion that I'm actually in the presence of a TV.)

Four places I have been on vacation:

1 Queensland, Australia
2 Colorado, USA
3 Provence, France
4 Amsterdam, Netherlands

Four of my favourite dishes:

1 Kielbasa w/ potato latkis
2 Gallumpki
3 mom's lasagna
4 Thanksgiving turkey w/ cornbread stuffing, sweet potatoes, and cranberry sauce

Four websites I visit daily:

1 Comics.com
2 Bristol library resources
3 Oxford English Dictionary online
4 Dictionary.com (good thesaurus)

Four places I would rather be right now:

1 On the water in a quad scull
2 Curled up in bed with the Bs, two dogs, and a Conrad novel
3 Any place that's sunny
4 Camping in Australia

Four bloggers I am tagging:

Nah, I'd like my friends to remain my friends. If you are reading this and enjoy these sorts of things, then by all means consider yourself tagged.

Now then. That's done. The last item of the day is the VD Report. I am forced at this time to (grudgingly) admit that it didn't completely suck. In fact, it was the best VD ever. I find that I'm rather confused by all this. I've been railing against the fucking holiday for so damn long, I'm finding it difficult to show the appropriate gratitude. I guess I feel rather like Beatrice in Much Ado, who, having spent her whole life speaking against marraige, decides she must do a complete 180 in attitude when she learns that Benedict is in love with her.

The day didn't start out so hot. I received news that a dear friend (whom I've fancied for ages and he bloody well knows it), has thrown himself back into a potentially abusive relationship. So of course I'm dissapointed for myself and extremely concerned for him. Let's hope it works out ok.

Tripping on the heels of that bit of joy, however, came (brace yourself for this one, lads)...

My First Ever Actual Valentine Gift From An Honest-To-God Admirer!!!

Well I'll be a monkey's uncle. Tie me to an anthill and smear my ears with jam. It was a classy one, too. This dude Ian and I met through the computer dating site thingy, and we've been emailing quite a bit. (He's the one I mentioned before, the Buddist vegetarian from Scotland.) We havn't met yet (first date tomorrow!!!!!!), but we've been chatting enough that i've actually begun thinking of him as a friend already, which is groovy. So yesterday, out of the fucking BLUE, he sends (emails) me a couple MP3 files.

Oral readings of two poems.

Love poems!

By John Donne!! The Sun Rising and Elegy 10.

I'm giving him a 10 for this one, because it was
a) totally unexpected and equally unnecessary
b) appropriate, since our relationship thus far is entirely electronic, an electronic gift is very suitable
c) thoughtful. he remembered that I like Donne, and sought out something I would enjoy
d) really romantic. (I'd rather have a poem than a box of chocolates any damn day.) Who wouldn't go weak in the knees to be told "She is all states, and all princes, I. Nothing. Else. Is." *sigh* I'm bustin' out the good jewelry for tomorrow night. I've got a good feeling about this.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

A pome

Roses are dead,
Violets are too.
The artificial holiday
Is not needed for to woo.

My heart is bled,
My tears are blue,
Valentine's is killing me.
Is it also killing you?


VD stands for Valentine's Day.

also Venerial Disease.

How appropriate.

Is anyone else amused by this?

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Saturday, February 11, 2006

the ties that bind

After my head race today (you don't need the details, really you don't), I wandered up river with my coach, his gf, and thier saluki (Ralph. I love that dog). It was a sunny day, and we went to get a good vantage point from which to cheer on the competing bristol crews. At some point something prompted me to declare (I forget what now), "Oh that is so going in my blog today!"

coach: you have a blog?

me: yup.

coach: what's it called?

me: mycoachisajerkoff.com

coach: ha ha. seriously, what's it called?

me: seriously, i'm not telling you.

coach: y?

me: because if i tell you, you might go and read it. and then i would have to stop writing about what a dickweed my coach is.

I think our relationship is improving.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Wee! I'm a SUPER Bitch!

Iron Man
Wonder Woman
The Flash
Green Lantern
You are mild-mannered, good,
strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...

(cheers, Sal.)

Thursday, February 09, 2006

How cool is that!

I've said it before, but i'll say it again: Valentine's day sucks. It causes more pain than joy, and is totally pointless in the public conscious. Lovers don't need it and singles don't want it. Given that, I have just declared the PostGraduates' Union the coolest student organization evah. This year on the 13th of February they're hosting an Anti-Valentine party. At my favorite bar. I will be there in black. If ever I had cause to doubt that this university is the best place for me, such fears have been put permanantly to rest.

In unrelated news, remember how I asked you a while back if my page was coming up funny on anyone else's computer, and you very helpfully ignored the question? Well, I've finally sorted the problem. Not surprisingly, the fault lay with MS exploder. I've switched to Firefox. Problem solved.

In unrelated news, Crazy Hairy never called me back. Tosser. His loss. Next up in the revolving door of my internet dating life is...


Stay tuned for details.

And in further cheery unrelated news, it's spring! The EPA reports unacceptable levels of love in the air. (yes, i stole that from the Onion. fucking sue me.) The snowdrops are in bloom, the daffodils and crocuses are up, and it's only the beginning of FEBRUARY! i love the country. *snif*

Ignore that

you can ignore that last post. i only put it up there so i could add the photo to my profile.

the Master of the Bitch

Postmodern genius

Best song lyric ever:

"I'm stranded all alone in the gas station of love,
and I have to use the self-service pump."

God bless you, Wierd Al.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Self-service station

I've been thinking a lot lately about the whole violent reaction to the cartoons of Muhammed. I was going to blog about it, too, but I live under a rock (read: university), and I'm already sick of it. It's been on the news, the airwaves, etc, and frankly, it's all been said by more succinct wits than me. All I will say on the matter is this: Hey members of the Islamic faith! If you want the rest of the world to stop stereotyping you as violent reactionaries, stop having violent reactions to meaningless shit! You're seriously not helping your cause.

Good. That's said. Now on to more important matters. I got recruited by the university basketball team today. Granted I was holding my own on a court full of blokes, but still, I wasn't even allowed to try out for basketball when I was in high school! British basketball must be in a sorry state. Apparently it's full of American b-ball rejects. Still, feather in my cap, no?

Sunday, February 05, 2006


Well that explains it. No one will date me because I'm perfect. All I need to do is imitate the rest of you imperfect females and men will love me. Spinny and Spaz are, of course, also perfect. Welcome to the sistahood.

Saturday, February 04, 2006


i'm sure you're all sitting on pins and needles after my hot date last night with a steaming piece of dried medieteranean produce.

me: hey, kenny g called. he wants his hair back.

hairy: what do you mean you don't drink?

actually, it went pretty well. i confess, i really liked him. he's articulate, interesting, ambitious, hard-working but laid back, likes to travel, likes to cook, has great hair, meets the 6-foot minium requirement (albeit just barely, but the hair adds an extra couple of inches). i've just got a sinking feeling that the admiration wasn't mutual. dunno why. just do. i'll give it a couple of days before i give up completely, but i kind of already have. le sigh.

Friday, February 03, 2006

bugger. missed 100 hits yesterday by a hair.

got a hot date tonight. proper fitty. with kenny G hair. that's right you heard me: kenny G hair! sa-weeet. fingers xed, yo.

oh, and while i'm thinking of it, i'm poor. so i signed up for the google adsense program. so my blog will have ads on it. it's lame, i know, but what can i say? i'm a whore to the system. i only make money though if people actually CLICK on the ads, so click them often, ignore them, and then come back and read my page. for just a few key-strokes a day you, too, can save a starving scholar. (que sally strothers.)

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Front and Center

I already stuck this in a comment on the "Prince of Darkness" library post, but upon further consideration I decided it deserved more attention, as i have no idea how many visitors actually read the comments.

I love to brag about my alma mater because it's more than just an outstanding academic institution; it's also where i spent many of the happiest and most fulfilling days of my life. I've never had a serious urge to be filthy sinking rich, but if by some shake of the galactic dice I ever hit it big, I plan to give back to CC so that future impoverished students can experience all the joys and agonies i had. Like Ruth Sheppe did. Conn is loved by many because it's such a great place, but the causality goes both ways: it's also a great place because it's loved by so many.

The perils of social interaction

This photo was taken earlier this week in Boyne, Michigan by a friend of my pater. I love how the eagle is totally amazed to see his lunch waddling cheerfully toward him over the ice. Apparently Ma Nature is into handing out Darwin Awards to naive, unsuspecting, aquatic mammals in the form of hungry, majestic raptors. (I mean, the lake is frozen after all. We can't blame him for feeling a bit peckish. Get it? Peckish? He's a bird...! ah, never mind.)

This is totally unrelated, but did anyone else notice that when I updated my sidebar this morning I managed to include a lot more procrastination tools than friends? It would seem that I need to spend a LOT less time in front of the ol' 'puter surfing the interweb, and a bit more time interacting with, say, actual people. Of course, if that poor otter had stayed home in front of his computer instead of venturing out to make friends, he might still be alive today. Hmm. There's a lesson in that.

lets go googling

been playing the Google Game. I know, i know...

but lemme ask you this: how the hell is it that there are 164 websites that contain the words "beowulf" and "xanthoma"?!?!?! what. the. fuck.

a brief aside

in a fit of procrastination i updated my sidebar this morning. quite a few new links to peruse if you get bored at work.

back to my paper now...

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Throne of the Prince of Darkness

This is the inside of the library at the University of Bristol. It's evil. It is the throne of Satan. I thought Manchester was bad, but this place makes the John Rylands look like the Taj Ma-fucking-hal. This photo really doesn't do the soul-destryoing ambiance justice. It's cramped, claustrophobic, badly-lit, freezing cold, and totally devoid of life or colour. It is an over-croweded, low-ceilinged (is that a word?), cave with flourescent lighting, rubber flooring, painfully uncomfortable furniture, and concrete, yes, CONRETE walls. I would say that it would make an exellent bunker, but I've been in the War Cabinet rooms in London, and frankly, they were more nicely furnished, and that WAS a bunker. Some people complain about the library, but most don't understand what i'm on about. This is because they've never been in a REAL library. Behold...

The Charles E. Shain Library at Connecticut College. My womb. The place of my birth, my awakening, the home of the happiest years of my life. This was our library. This is a library for just 1600 students, and it was open from 6 am to 1 am every day (inluding Sunday). Lovely, isn't it? Open spaces, comfortable furniture, beautiful art, plants, huge windows with loads of natural light. The collections are superb, the computers top of the line and plentiful, the printers are FREE, and the ILL system kicks your ass. Why, oh why! can't all libraries be like this?!