Confession

Do you ever add things to your 'To Do' list that you've already done just so you can cross them out, thereby improving the ratio of crossed-out items to un-crossed items?

Yeah, I thought so.

Isn't nice to know we're all that pathetic?

Announcement: I'm quitting rowing

(I think.)

I've had it. I've just had enough.

I work and work and work and work and get fuck all back. In the last 4 years I've been in 6 races, only 1 of those in the past 18 months. And now I have no prospect of racing this season.

I train and train, but don't get any closer to my goals, because my goals are competitions and I don't have the chance to compete. Even losing would be better. At least if I lost I would have had a fighting chance. As it is, I don't even have that much. And now there is no prospect of racing in the future.

Fuck it all.

There is still the slightest chance I may yet find a doubles partner for Women's Henley Regatta, but that is becoming slimmer by the day.

So I've told Bristol to put it where the sun don't shine, and I've joined a local club. They're friendly, and they have some nice equipment. I will pass the summer paddling around the Bristol docks in a single, and hopefully enjoy some summer sunshine, keep myself in shape, and maybe get a bit of a tan.

And come the end of the summer, September, the wedding, and all those other life changes, I will hang up the blades for good. I will not look for a rowing club in Plymouth. There is one, but it's crap, the water is crap, and there's no good competition down that way. So it would just be more the fucking same, and I can't face that.

When I get to Plymouth I will attempt something I've always wanted to do: martial arts.

I've had the chance to take karate lessons a few times over the years, and I always wanted to give it a go, but I've never had the time. I was always committed to my rowing schedule. So now I'm going to give myself the time. I'll try to find a decent karate or judo or tae kwan do studio. It will help keep me in shape, it will be new and exciting, it will be good way to work out aggression and frustration (a mental health benefit rowing has always provided me which is a key to my sanity), and I like the idea of an activity where I get to beat the crap out of people. That has a lot of appeal right now. A lot of appeal.

It's been a difficult decision. I never thought I could turn my back on something I love so much. It scares me that I'm capable of that kind of mind-shift. But it doesn't feel like i've turned my back on it, it feels more like it's turned its back on me.

But of course, as an athlete, you have it drummed in that winners never quit and quitters never win. I'm not a quitter. I'm a winner. I don't quit. Ever. I don't give up. But how is this not giving up?

Shouldn't I be more determined than ever? Shouldn't I go to Plymouth and start my own club, if that's what it takes? Shouldn't I do everything in my power to keep going?

When does that cross the line into stupidity? When do determination, commitment, and perseverance become shouting at a brick wall?

How can I quit and still face myself in the morning?

But how can I keep going, when it's ceased to be a joy and become nothing but a burden? When does it all stop being worth the constant mental and physical struggle? How can I walk away and keep my self respect?

NOT a wedding post

This one's titled "Why I have the most awesomest academic supervisor in the UNIVERSE"

or "The Ostrich Effect"

I had a meeting with The Putt today. I haven't done fuck all work for months. I am behind.

I am so far behind that I'd even begun ignoring his emails. I kept telling myself "as soon as I have this awesome piece of work to show, I'll go pop in to his office." I didn't want to go in without work to show, because then he would know i'd been slacking off, but if I went in with another 20k words, all would be well.

But of course one can't write 20k words in a weekend. And so i didn't go. And kept falling further and further behind. Like a pile of dirty dishes in the sink that spills over on to the counter, you eventually think "I don't even know where to begin," and close the kitchen door. That's what I'd done on my PhD work for the past several months. Not. Good.

Finally The Putt phoned and ordered my ass into his office. Tail between legs, I went. I am sooooo glad I did. The man is wonderful.

He was grinning, and I could tell by his grin that a) he wasn't as disappointed in me as i'd feared (anger i could deal with, but letting down someone you respect the absolute worst), and b) he knew exactly what had been going through my head.

Through tearful sniffles I explained how embarassed and ashamed I was. He ordered me to stop feeling embarassed and said, "You're going to sit there and I'm going to fix you a cup of tea." Being a very gentle sort, it was incredibly comical how forcefully he said that. I couldn't help but crack a weak smile.

And then we talked business. My punishment is going to be to do some of the dirty work on his latest research. Fair enough. He's been exploring an idea in relation to alliterative verse, and he wants to see if it holds true in the more continental style of Chaucerian verse. Chaucer's Bitch to the rescue!

Oh, and I told him about the wedding and explained that wedding plans had been partly to blame for my absenteeism. His response? "That's wonderful! Getting married is far more important than a PhD, but as your supervisor I'm not allowed to tell you that. But I'm glad you've got your priorities in order. Also solves the visa problem if you need an extension. Good on ya!"

What a guy, what a guy, what a guy.

The present dilemma

What do you do when you get a really really rediculous Christmas present that you don't want and for which you have no use, that you could exchange for something genuinely useful, but you don't want to hurt the feelings of the giver (who think they got you the greatest present on earth) and there's a reasonable chance that if you swapped it, the giver would find out (call it a 30% chance)? Christmas politics: ack!

Weekend musings, part the turd

2 (or maybe 3) weeks ago, at the conclusion of a snuggly, pillow-talk discussion about the future, both the long-term and what we were going to do with ourselves the rest of the afternoon:

{disclaimer to A, close personal friend (and now part-time housemate) of Pirate-- if you're reading this, please pretend you didn't. thank you.}

Pirate: I know. I've got an idea that will answer your questions and solve the problem of what to do today.

Me: Oh?

P: We need to go shopping.

M: shopping?

P: But I need to ask you a question first.

M: (mind spinning!)

P: or maybe we should go shopping first, and then I should ask you the question...

M: (stunned silence, terrified to hope)

P: (more to himself than me) I'm not sure the best way to do this. Question first or shopping first...

M: (remembering that Pirate has a habit of saying things that are open to a variety of interpretations) You realize how this sounds, don't you? My mind is spinning. If you're talking about going grocery shopping because you're low on yogurt and bananas, please Please PLEASE for the love of all that's holy -- disillusion me right. now.

P: I know how it sounds.

M: (waiting)

P: (also waiting. for what? invitation from the Queen?) I don't know if I should ask you the question first or if we should go shopping first.

M: If you can't decide, then I will. Question first.

P: (more silence)

P: (still more silence)

M: (gives P kiss for reassurance)

P: (squirming)...

M: (eventually deciding that P has painted himself into a corner and in need of a rescue) If it's that hard to spit out, this obviously isn't the time. You wanna go to the gym?

P: (leaping out of bed) Yes! Let's go to the gym! (bounces like Tigger into his gym shorts)

M: *sigh*


progress. definately progress. I decided to let it lie. I genuinely don't want to pressure him. Then last weekend:

Sunday night Pirate says (in the course of a long, silly conversation about nothing in particular), "I'm really happy with life the way it is. I don't feel the need to change it."
I, of course, am slightly concerned by this seeming turn of events, but it was late at night, and I'm shit at discussions late at night. I get all emotional and cry at the drop of a hat and nothing is ever accomplished, so I decided to forget it.

The next morning we had a few minutes before he had to be off for work. I was packing my bags and he sat down beside me. Perfect opportunity.
"Perhaps you could clear something up for me," say I. "Remember your little waffle a couple weeks ago when you couldn't decide to go shopping or ask me a question and ended up doing neither?"
"Yes"
"I'm just a little confused, because that seems to conflict with what you said last night. Could you clarify that for me?"
"Oh! Last night I meant that I was happy with the universe in general. I don't need superpowers or anything to be happy. I just meant that I'm happy the way I am, and life is good. And I've worked out that other matter. You'll find out next weekend."


Well! That was far more of an explanation than I'd hoped for. (And when I thought about it later, I realized what a romantic thing he'd said. We had been talking about silly party questions like 'If you could have any one animal part as part of our body, what would it be?' and that kind of stuff. But he's genuinely, completely happy with his life and himself, and that's a hell of a thing. It really is.) And the 'next weekend' of which he spoke is this coming weekend. I haven't done a lick of work all week. I'm all a-twitter. My brain is everywhere except where it should be.

So kiddies. Be here Monday afternoon (Greenwich time), and maybe, just maybe, there will be an exciting announcement here at M.E.


(and if the suspense is killing you, just imagine what it's doing to me!)

the new Pirate Ship: HMS Frivolous

The Pirate just bought a new ship. It's this:


Not to replace his nice, practical little Skoda, mind. In addition to. For fun on weekends and for something to tinker with and restore. (The structure and engine are sound, but it needs a load of cosmetic detail work. The perfect fixer-upper.)

I'm not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, I'm happy for him. He's been an Aston Martin freak all his life (inherited from his father), and he's just bought his first, his very own, AM. (It's a 1973 Vantage.) Yay for him.

But it's such a total frivolity. To behonest, I'm just not comfortable with that level of decadance. Even if I had a million pounds, I probably wouldn't buy something that totally unnecessary.

But is that me being a hypocrite? I'm pretty sure that if I had a million quid I would buy something unnecessary, probably several somethings. So is it that I'm genuinely uncomfortable with this kind of decacance in a world where so many people are suffering, or is that I just prefer differenct luxuries, like a giant garden, my own scull, 4 dogs and a cider press?

Is it fair to make a distinction between small luxuries (like a really nice meal out), medium luxuries (like a new scull), and huge luxuries (like a sports car)? It's just a matter of scale, really.

It seems to me that for people our age (30 minus a tad), spending money on non-necessities isn't wise. The time value of money makes clear that saving now will pay off hugely in the future. So if I'm rich when I'm 50 and have no money worries, then will I be comfortable with decadance? Or am I just too tight-fisted by nature (having grown up in a home that was super-frugal by necessity) to ever feel comfortable with spending such large sums on things that aren't needed? And is that a bad thing? What are the implications of that for our long-term relationship?

I suppose I'll have to express these feelings to the Pirate at some point, but he's so damn happy, I really hate to rain on his parade. I surely don't want him to think I'm being disaproving or trying to make him feel guilty.

Or is that exactly what I'm doing?...

Save the Planes

This week crowds of people have been protesting at Heathrow Airport against expansions they argue would contibute to global climate change, which is bad.

This may be the first time in my life I have taken a stance against the pro-enviroment protestors. Here's why:


I like planes.


I'm an expat living on a different continent from my family. I fly. Rather a lot.
I also like travelling the world.
And sending gifts to people, especially my family in America.
All this requires flight.

I completely acknowledge that global warming is a catastrophe on a scale that has never before been witnessed in human history. We have it in our power to minimize the damage done to ecosystems the world over (and ultimately to ourselves) by making technological and lifestyle changes. I absolutely believe these changes can and should take place on a national/commercial/industrial scale (more fuel efficient cars, alternative energy sources, etc) as well as a personal scale (turn off your fucking lights, hang the laundry on line, ride a bike to work, etc.).

But please please please please please can we leave the planes alone?

This is what I think: I think we should do everything possible to arrest global warming, and if all that stuff doesn't work, then we can get rid of the planes. But can we leave them as a last resort, pretty please with a cherry on top?


Oh, and while we're on the subject of the environment, I would like to point out this article, which gets my vote for The Most Obvious Headline Of The Year Award.

Eight Things

Got tagged by Joliet Jake (quite some time ago now) to do this meme. Sorry it's taken so long to getting around to it.

So here are 8 things about me you probably didn't already know:



1. Despite the outward appearance of ambition, I am incredibly lazy and rarely do more than just what's necessary to squeak by.

2. At the age of 16 I played a chorus girl and Egyptian whore in a small (but professional) production of Joeph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. (Not the one with Donny Osmond.)

3. I only drink malty beers. Too much hops is bleurgh.

4. One of my labia hangs much lower than the other.

5. I will eat anything once, and have tried osterich, emu, crocodile, kangaroo, and pigeon. The osterich was the best, followed by the 'roo and the croc. Am still trying to find a restaurant that serves rattlesnake.

6. I probably shouldn't have mentioned eating anyting right after describing my labia. oops.

7. My favorite smell is the mingled scent of dry leaves, wood smoke, seasoned oak, and apples.

8. I am a hypocrite because I think overpopulation is the biggest problem facing the world today, but I want (and plan to have) a huge family.



Tagging: Dave, LC, Herebe, Sal, GSE, Miss Melville, and Murph. Hop to it.