Raised Print

Heeheeeheeeheehee....

I've just got back from the printer's. Three copies of my dissertation. Raised print.

Mmmmmmmmm.

:op

There's something about raised print... it screams 'quality'. When you run your fingers over the smooth white paper and you feel that glowing ink smiling back at you.

Aaaah.

Job done.

Crazy Hectic

And relax...

....I think....?

I have just slumped back down in my chair after a very stressful week.

Last week I had my dissertation draft reviewed by my supervisor and, although I apparently write well, there was rather a lot of biased, rather than substantiated, waffle. Can't deny it though, she was right. So, I spent the past week sifting through the sea of red pen markings, re-writing, re-evaluating and copy/pasting 'til my fingers bled. Unfortunately, by the time I started the corrections, I had completely lost all interest in it. What started off as a sexy subject had, four months later, become about as interesting as stale cheese.

I gave it one final push though, and I have to admit to being quietly satisfied with the end result. I think it's not a bad piece of work; possibly even good. Problem is, when you've been staring at something for so long, you lose all sense of judgement. So, we shall have to wait and see what the grade says.

The reason I’m not relaxing, however, is that this morning I sent it to the printer's. I'm ordering three copies. Two have to be handed in, and one for myself. I think, of the two I hand in, one goes to the uni library and the other I should get back. That one will then be given to the British Deaf Association, whose advocacy department this research should help bolster and who, through my old colleagues at the Welsh division, helped inordinately in finding research participants.

Three copies comes to £98!!! That's before I take it to be bound, and each copy needs two bindings as I’m publishing the data in an accompanying book. I could have printed it out at home but my printer is more than a little temperamental and I felt this deserved a professional job... and nice paper :)

I have now promised myself that I will not look at a single word of it again until the mark comes back - by which time I should be in Rwanda! If I do, I’ll notice all those little typos and annoying things I missed the first seven proofreads.

It's hard though, accepting that it is now out of my control. A done job. It really was a hard slog getting that last bit done, took me longer than I’d anticipated simply because of my lack of enthusiasm. I call it lack of enthusiasm, but I have a curious suspicion that a little part of me didn't entirely want it to be over. There's a mighty big change coming and, in a way, that dissertation was my purpose for being here in Cardiff, at uni. Now I’ve got to accept that's about over. Perhaps that's why I was dragging my heels a little. But, yes, it was down-right boring by the end too ;)

Anyway, the other reason I’m pooped is that I finally got those bloody documents notarised! Involved driving like a loon all around Roath trying to find a sodding parking spot. Then the receptionist took them in to show a solicitor, who authorised her to stamp the copies. I'm sorry, but this is just paperwork for the sake of it! Ridiculous. But I will stop grumbling. It's done now, and in the post!

So, what's left to do...? Ermn. Dunno. Bit stumped to be honest. Spent so long avoiding doing my dissertation that now it's done I've lost my focus ;)

Think I’ll spend more time writing stuff for my new website. I've already managed to write an entry for the Celtx 8th Film Script Competition - it's nothing special, just a bit of fun for the online Celtx community, but it's the first time I’ve entered.

The criteria was to include the following elements in a 10-15 page script of any genre: Prop - a colander. Character - W. Fritz Bean, farmer. Line - "I made you who you are, and I can just as easily break you."

Essentially, my result was: 

A surreal step into a world where farmers are wild creatures who roam free on the land. One such farmer, Fritz Bean, has been captured and tamed by a tyrannical plantation owner who regularly beats and over-works him. Her daughter, Alice, takes pity on the poor thing but her attempts to make his life easier are hampered by Tara, a jealous, conniving plantation worker. Alice eventually risks her own safety and decides to release Fritz back into the wild. Her kindness is not forgotten and when Alice's mother finds out and turns her riding crop against her, Fritz returns with his fellow farmers to save her and secure a happy, and slightly romantic, ending. 

It's simply called 'Fritz' and the tag reads: When farmers attack...it's never pretty.

So, yeah, I’ve got a few other projects in production, so that's probably what I’ll get on with. 

And trying to sell all of my possessions before moving out, of course :)

Wasted Morning ;(

Blah ~grumble, grumble, grumble~

Bloody bureaucracy.

I got up at 7am this morning, feeling pants after my last round of injections yesterday (final Rabies, second Hep. B and a fizzy dose of Cholera), for which they'd lost my bloody appointment.

"Did they give you a card?" asked the receptionist.

"No, I wrote it in my diary, here."

"Yes, but did they give you a card?"

~blink~

Why, would the nurse giving me a card make you any less incompetent?

*deep breath*

So, yes. I got up this morning to take a heap of photocopied documents (degree certificate, MA grades and CRB check) down to the local Magistrates' Court to be notarised so that I can send them to VSO who can apply for my working visa in Rwanda. Bloody palaver, but has to be done.

I walked all the way across town to the court. I'd phoned earlier in the week and was told to turn up any time between 9:30-10:00am, Monday to Friday, and someone would see me.

So, I got there, went through the security barriers, and was told to go to the desk and ask which court I needed. The 'desk' was not a desk, it was a long row of desks behind glass, each one with its own buzzer. I buzzed one. Two minutes later a man appeared.

"Hello," I said. "I've come to get some papers notarised."

"You want the one on the end," he said.

"Never mind, I needed the exercise," I said as he disappeared off through a door again.

So, I walk to the end of the counters and press another buzzer. Out comes a lady.

"Hello," I repeated. "I've come to get some papers notarised."

"You want court number one, up the stairs turn right."

"Thanks."

I get up there - the place is empty, the court locked. I sit and, after about fifteen minutes, a few other people turn up and mill. A woman comes out. "Are you here for fines?" - "Err, no, just to get some papers notarised please." "Have you made an appointment?" - "No. I was told I could just turn up between 9:30-10:00, Monday to Friday." - "Okay, I’ll check with the Clerk."

Another twenty minutes later, I get called in before the Magistrate. All a bit intimidating just to get some bloody papers signed. "Hello," I say. "I’ve come to get some papers notarised..." A long discussion ensued in which I was asked what I actually wanted them to do. "Err..." is this a trick question? "Notarise these copies, just to say they're of the original."

They couldn't help. They didn't know what to do. They sent me away to find out more about what they were supposed to do, then make another appointment or go and see a solicitor.

Thanks. I was a little narked at VSO for a while for not giving me all the information on what was required. But, as I soon found out, there was no more information - it's not a complicated procedure.

As I was leaving, one of the security guards recognised me and said "Alright?" - "Not really," I said, slightly irritated by this point that I’d traipsed all the way across town for nothing, to stand in an intimidating courtroom and receive information as useful as a square tyre.

He nodded and started to turn. I quickly explained what had just happened and asked whether he knew where I could find a solicitor. The Security Guard immediately nodded and put out a hand to a tall, dark, and relatively handsome young man who turned out to be just such a solicitor. "Have you got a moment to help this young lady?" he asked, and I was taken into a side room.

"I can't stay long," said the solicitor. "I’ve got a case." - however, once I explained what I needed, he laughed and said "Oh, right. So you're not a criminal then?" and suddenly wasn't in so much of a rush. Bloody cheek! ;)

But he was very helpful and chatty. I, on the other hand, was tired, fed up, and feeling yucky from the walk and the jabs. He gave me his card and said he could do them now, but just to double-check what needed doing, and make an appointment at his firm.

I got home and phoned VSO, who explained that all notarising usually involved was stamping the document with the firm's seal and signing. Nothing more complicated than that. Which is all I had assumed it was.

Amazing how the Security Guard in the Court was a thousand times more helpful and informative than the Magistrates themselves.

However, as Dad said, surely instead of going to all this trouble it would be easier for the visa people simply to phone up and confirm with the University Registrar that my qualifications were correct. That way it's straight from the horse's mouth. But, there we are. Such is life.

Reminds me of the Futurama song about bureaucracy.

Single One Year

Today Phil and I are celebrating our one year anniversary of singledom! Woo-yay us! :)

[NB 2013: That probably only makes sense if you knew that we were in a relationship for four and a half years.]

Gloucester & Marj

Went from Mum's to Dad's in Gloucester. The flooding has subsided and his garden is looking unbelievable.

Headed down to Marj's on the Friday night then breakfast at Farrington's before home to Caerdydd.

Back now, watching a movie and relaxing. More dissertationing and VSO paperwork ahead this week, but it's been a good holiday :)

Judith Stone

Came down to Mum's on Monday and been having a really good time. Even managed to knock some more of my dissertation out.

I've been having an ace time with my mate Jim, who is also a folklore/standing stones buff, originally from Keswick, a stone's throw (ho ho) from Catslerigg. He took me out to have a look at the Judith Stone at East Farndon. I'd been before to the Church, where there are some very interesting earthworks once referred to as 'moot hill', suggesting they're older than the Civil War relics they say they are, but I’d never seen the stone. I doubt I ever would have found it without Jim, whose friend knew where it was. It was quite an adventure - we found a natural spring/marsh which I fell into and almost lost my shoe, then we got chased by randy bullocks lol but it was worth it.

Also spent two consecutive nights getting to know our new Landlord and Landlady: Kate and Nobby. They're opening a micro-brewery in the yard of the Ward, so good things to come. They really are brilliant, couldn't ask for two nicer people to turn around the run of bad luck the pub has had. The first night I bored them to death on the folklore, but could be real tourist potential there. Have to wait and see. Also saw a massive toad (hand-sized!) waddling about.

Was a very groovy time indeed.

Glasgow

On the Sunday I went back with Tas to her pad in Glasgow, because I’d never been before. She took me out for a stroll in Pollok Park, which was outstanding. There's an old tree there, up on a mound, with a massive girth and a branch knot that looks just like a bull's head, eyes and all! There's a real vibe to the place.

She then took me home and fed me the most amazing homemade vegy curry :op

Tas is an incredible artist. She specialises in painting animal skulls and driftwood. Unbelievable stuff. I found her a small dog's skull up at the grouse farm in Muchty, so hopefully she'll be able to turn it into something nice.

Spot the naked lady!

Angsty Monkey Festival

In July my friends Lisa, Phil, Lucy, Mark and Suki went to the Cambridge Folk Festival.

I didn't go because I had a lot of work to do. But, not to be outdone, I decided to go to Scotland instead, to the Auchtermuchty Festival (or 'Angsty Monkey' festival to thems who can't spell it or pronounce it without looking it up on Google ;))

My friend Andy and his beautiful pooch Blake (pictured) put me up for a few nights. Andy's one of the organisers of Muchty. Being a St. Andrews boy, he took me on a day excursion to have a good look round. A beautiful town, and the Lammas Market (now a street fair) was in full swing. Also went to the best ice-cream shop ever, called Jannettas - it sold every flavour you could think of!

There were some stunning old churches and very odd gravestones with skull and crossbone motifs on. I did a bit of online research and, contrary to popular mythology, they are not the graves of pirates :op They are simply reminders of mortality - a slightly macabre tradition on older stones, especially throughout Scotland and Wales.

Auchtermuchty itself lies overshadowed by two incredibly impressive old volcanoes. Seriously cool, but unfortunately I didn't take a picture.

We also took a wander down to the beach by the castle at St. Andrews, which was really lovely. Some real history in that town and in Muchty. The music festival itself got a bit rained out. It bucketed it down most of the time and the place filled up with slightly 'spirited' drunk Scots, but the Muchty yokels themselves are good guys. On one wet day I decided to take myself off for a wander and ended up in the middle of a grouse farm! I was really nervous the farmer would catch me, until someone pointed out that in Scotland you have the 'right to roam' - so no need to worry :)

Beer was drunk, yea oldy traditionaly music and jigs were sung and played, and a good time was had by all.

Kinyarwanda

Mwiriweho, amakuru yawe?

VSO have something called the Volzone, which is a database of information on each of the countries they work in. There's a section for pre-departure volunteers to learn about the volunteering strategies, political and cultural aspects, and language of their destinations.

When I get to Rwanda I should get some language training, although I’m arriving at a different time to most of the volunteers who will get there in September. Hopefully, I will still get some Kinyarwanda lessons, and there are some online modules I have to get to grips with first. The modules aren't too bad - just learning to speak and listen rather than the grammatical structure of the language, but it's quite different to English. I have real trouble retaining vocabulary. My pronunciation isn't generally too bad, if only I could remember the words in the first place :op

I remember trying to learn a little Yoruba once. That was easier as I managed to get books and tapes from a university department and there were online resources. Kinyarwanda seems to be very short on resources and I have found no online sites yet. However, I have joined an online language exchange and found a Kinyarwanda teacher in Kigali who wants to improve his English, although he's already very good. Hopefully we can practice on Skype before I get out there, and then I’ll already know at least one person in the city :)

I've also been chatting to one of the volunteers over there, who is coming back in September. Hopefully we'll have a chance to meet up. She's been there for a year as a YfD (Youth for Development) volunteer. These seem to be like one-year volunteering posts for gap year students as she's halfway through her degree at the moment. Apparently, another YfD also went for the job I’ve got, so I feel a bit bad as that now means they are coming home :(

We've also been having an interesting discussion about the anti-malarials. I went to do some dreading for a friend in Bath yesterday, and her housemate had also been with VSO to South Africa. I’ve talked to about four or five people now about their experiences on the medication, and it hasn't been inspiring. 

My preference is for Mefloquine (Larium) because you only have to take it once a week instead of every day. The problem is that it can cause serious psychological problems and everyone I’ve spoken to who took it changed to Doxycycline. Some suffered severe depression, claustrophobia, and one even had a seizure! It mucks up your neurochemistry quite badly and has been linked to suicides! The only one who I spoke to (friend's housemate) who didn't report horrific side effects, said she experienced really crazy dreams. 

The problem is that the other option, Doxycycline, is an antibiotic and can lead to sun sensitivity (i.e. burning easily), and someone said it gives them occasional stomach upsets. Plus taking antibiotics for a prologued length of time is not recommended. Apparently, both medications are only really recommended for up to six months, so two years could have pretty bad effects. This is something I need to talk to my doctor about. Several of the volunteers out there that I’ve spoken to said that they didn't take anything - that they started off taking them but, due to the side effects, they stop. Now they just take extra precaution not to get bitten.

It's something I need to talk over more with a doctor and give some thought to. One volunteer said that the side effects of Mefloquine made life absolutely miserable until she stopped taking it, and that it stays in the blood a long time. They said that one volunteer was still experiencing side effects a year after stopping taking it.

Aaaanyway, shan't worry about it yet. I've just started feeling better after the cholera vaccine. It's the only one I’ve had a bad reaction to, and the only one I had to take orally. It comes with a sachet of Alker-Seltzer type powder which you put in a glass of water. It fizzes up and you add a small vial of liquid (the vaccine), stir, and down. It tastes foul - sickly sweet because of the powder. It also gave me a slight stomach upset for a couple of days and I felt quite down :( 

Seem to be okay now, although I do have another dose to take in a couple of weeks.

Enough whinging though. Cholera itself would be much worse!

Urabeho x

In America

Aww.

Cripes.

I rent about three films a week. Most are films I’ve been meaning to watch for a while, and sometimes I add a film I see on a trailer. Everso, everso occasionally I’m really pleasantly surprised to find a film that I hadn't really heard of before that is absolutely outstanding. I've just finished watching one now called In America. 

I didn't really expect it to be much, and put off watching it, but it's definitely made my five-star rating. Very, very well done; beautiful. I'm not sure sometimes if it's just the mood I’m in when I watch a film - maybe I wouldn't have thought it was as good another night. I tend to rate films according to my attention span. I have a short one, and I’m usually doing other things whilst a film is playing. So, if I end up stopping everything I’m doing to watch the film, it's about to go on my Amazon 'to buy' list.

Poetry Recital

Well, between dissertation and poetry, I’ve been more in the mood for poetry the past few days. I just can't seem to get motivated at all {:o( 

Usually I’ll lose the will to work, potter around for a couple of days, then sit down and write like there's no tomorrow, but, at the moment, the inspiration just don't seem to be happening. The muses have all abandoned me except for Euterpe and Calliope, and even they're taking a coffee break. Was there ever a Muse of Academic Thought or Dissertations? No, that's probably why I’m struggling so much.

I've just swigged my first dose of cholera - that's quite an experience. It comes with a packet of Alker-Seltzer type stuff. You dissolve the fizzy stuff in water, then add the vial of liquid, shake, and drink. The fizzy stuff is flavoured and sweetened to help make it more palatable, but it tasted vile. It's a two-dose course, so another in a week or two. Think I prefer being jabbed.

Aaaanyway, 'nuff whinging. I recorded six of my poems.

[NB 2013: No longer available.]

I wanted to see whether I could say them as I write them. Some poems sound better than they read but most read better than they sound. I prefer my poetry on the page as a private reading in my head, but others seem to prefer to listen. I think I’ve done well but Want was a particularly difficult one to read out-loud. Things I Know seems to have come out best to my mind's eye, but others may disagree. It was fun to do at least... more fun than a dissertation. Which still needs writing.

I am starting to panic as VSO called the other day - they want to send me on a heap of training courses that clash with the handing in of my dissertation. I'm trying to rearrange my diary but my time is not going to be my own for much longer, so I need to get on with it. I refuse to give up my week in Scotland later this month, though. I really need that, even if it does mean sitting in the pub with my laptop.