Zorbing, anyone?
Rotarua and Taupo (the area of NZ where I am for the moment) are known as extreme sports meccas. I could go sky diving, bungee jumping, spelunking, and assorted mishagas. A bunch of the crazy whatnot was invented here. But the thing is, you're always strapped into safety gear. This is a good idea, of course, but it's a pretty controlled environment. Yes, it's thrilling and fun and you could wet your pants with adrenaline. But you're still strapped in.
I went horseback riding yesterday up in the mountains. It feels pretty flippin' extreme when the horse takes off at a canter down a muddy hill and all that's keeping you on top of the thing are your leg muscles. And not a seat belt. There was a moment where I was like, "hmmm, I believe I might fall off and roll down this hill...well, okay, then." I stayed on the whole time, but today I'm a bit sore from all the gripping. (I've gone riding other times since I stopped riding regularly and never felt my muscles like this the next day...)
It was much fun and had beautiful scenery (yes, sheep) and there were a number of times on the ride where I was like, I'm moving to New Zealand and buying a horse.
No, I will not find any hobbits for you
I think finding New Zealand
there when I get off the plane is going to be a bit of a shock. I'm not sure it's real. It's about the most remote major developed country and it's where they make movies and play rugby and I'm not sure it's really there.
I have a plane ticket into Auckland and a plane ticket out of Christchurch ten days later and a guide book. I'm going to make a rough itinerary on the plane.
That is, after I find out if the country is really there or not.
The Cliff's Notes version
Oh so many fun things since I turned in my thesis last week. But I'm leaving for New Zealand in a few hours, so in brief, I've been enjoying the city. I've stopped in to lots of the little independent shops around Fitzroy, Carlton, and Melbourne. I've gone to some galleries.
I went to the Immigration Museum: cool. Lots of reading, if you like to read at museums, but other interactive bits. I found out Myer (one of the the major dept stores here) was started by two Jewish (immigrant) brothers who used their older brother's middle name "Myer" for the name of their shop, where you could touch the merchandise and didn't have to ask a clerk to see an item. Shocking. There was a room in the museum that went into each time period. My favorite was the flyer, while asking for people to come to Australia, said that no idiots would be accepted. I think a few got in. Anyway, they didn't try to gloss over the racist elements (the "White Australia" policies, etc.), which is, of course, the fair thing to do, but still good to see. They also explained how Australia has taken in refugees when other countries weren't (including the most Holocaust survivors). Granted, Howard is still following Bush around and therefore, now they're trying to block refugees and immigrants, too. Awesome.
After turning in my thesis on Monday, we went out for celebratory drinks that night. I left May, who was meeting us later, approximately 17 voice mail messages since it took us a couple passes to find a place we wanted to be at. Somehow "Death by Metal" night just didn't sound like us. Sarah and I named a new drink: the Kick in the Head. It used to be a Satly Dog, but the guy didn't have grapefruit juice. So I substituted pineapple juice. Which goes fine with the vodka. Not so much with the salted rim. That's the 'kick in the head' part. It's awful. After May got there, we planned a road trip to Box Hill in New South Wales for the next day right there. I should point out, we were a few drinks in by then. To get there Plan A was the map we had of Southeast Asia. Plan B was my innate sense of direction. Plan C was the map on the back cover of my guidebook. Plan D was getting directions from the internet. In the meantime, we watched Switzerland play Togo in the World Cup on the big screens around us. The fun thing about Australia is that they are very keenly for the underdog. While one guy in swiss flag tshirt was cheering for the Swiss, the rest of the room roared when the Swiss missed. (I just said, swiss miss. heheh.)
Anyway, Plans A through D were never to come into play because we scrapped the 12 hour drive, for a Victorian road trip within a couple hours of Melbourne. (btw, I mean Victorian as in the state we're in. Not the other way. There were no corsets involved in this trip.) Sarah, May, and I went to Hanging Rock Park, of
Picnic at Hanging Rock fame, the next day. The film is a creepy story of a schoolgirl on a class trip in the '30s who goes missing. Miranda! Miranda! This is what we understand, anyway. So beloved is this film that multiple video stores were out of it and so none of us has seen it yet. Including May, who as an Aussie, could get her citizenship revoked for such a transgression. Don't tell. So, we climbed rocks. I saw a neat area to climb down into, recognized there was no way I could climb myself back out, and went in anyway. Photos of the rescue to follow. Eventually. We had lunch on a rock overlooking the valley and saw a pod of wallabies (like 30 of em) move through the fields below us. We weren't alone, but there were plenty of little paths to climb up and over rocks to find one's own private bits of boulder. I also learned the "Marco? Polo!" for Oz: cooo-EE! (kinda like the pig-calling soo-EEEY! but don't tell May I said that.) A group of five large roos bid us a fond farewell from the field near the parking lot. And by fond farewell, I mean they looked totally disinterested in us. But we went to May's parents' home and had a wonderful evening, enhanced by the really cool new faucet in the bathroom, champagne, and baby pictures.
Thursday night, I saw a new play (
Eldorado) at the Malthouse, a theatre here I like (where I saw a few other things and part of the complex for the Writer's Festival). It was strong and disturbing and sometimes boring and sometimes too long and sometimes really visually striking. They did some really interesting things from a performance standpoint - it's hard to explain but they sealed off the stage so it was like the audience was outside of that world, kind of an exhibit, kind of in the area of peril. (It's set in a near-future ruined city, but certain areas are still good.)So that part of it was neat, especially the beginning, where the lights off on stage make the glass look like a mirror, so the audience is just looking at itself (which has some interesting implications), and then we see a man inside of it, looking at us. And then the story kicks in. Anyway, I found a book I've wanted at the small bookstore there, so that was exciting. (I have a small/large book-acquiring problem. I will be shipping a box home of just books...Oy.) And to get to the theatre, you have to go by other arts venues in the city with lots of buzzing people around them, so that's fun.
Today, Sarah and I found the tucked-away Rose St. Market in Fitzroy, an artists market for contemporary arts and crafts. It also has a fantastic cafe. Ohmigoodness, the anzac biscuits we had! so good! homemade! The weather today was insane, raining off and on all day, changing every 3 minutes, literally. Sometimes sunny, sometimes cloudy, sometimes both. Just Melbourne reminding us of its nature (so to speak) before we depart. I found some lovely etchings, had a nice tea and toastie, and wondered how people found this place. I felt very "local". Until I opened my mouth and people heard the accent and asked me where I'm from. Then not so local anymore. After, I continued on to the Koorie Heritage Centre, and Aboriginal Cultural Museum. Good stuff. I especially liked a print of Elizabeth St in the 1800s. Elizabeth St is one of our cross streets and it's huge and busy. In this print, there were fields, a house, a building, a horsecart, and a few chooks in the road. Rush hour.
I think this might be the most boring post I've written thusfar. I really just wanted to get it down before I left for NZ. So we'll just think of this post as Halley's shorthand notes that somehow got posted, mkay?
Getting my boots past security
I just spent 2 hours scrubbing mud out of the soles of my hiking boots. My hard-earned mud.
I leave for New Zealand in the morning and they are scary-serious about quarantine and not tracking (foreign) muddy footprints across their shiny linoleum. So serious are they that there is a show here, Border Patrol, that is not about illegal immigration. No, it's about getting past customs in New Zealand. Yeah.
I gave up after two hours of scrubbing. There're still little bits of mud in the soles, but I give up. It's just Aussie soil. Hopefully, they won't mind.
The reason my boots were mud-covered is that last Sunday Eric, Sarah, and I went hiking in the Dandenong Mountains. How awesome is this: a Sunday special lets us take all the way out to the farthest zone for $2.50. That's all I spent all day. And we had a great big day. Up and down mountains. Muddymuddymuddy in parts. Lots of uphill. Lots of steepness. And one dead thing. Or rather half of a dead thing. So nasty was it that I ran 10 feet up a ridiculously steep hill at the very end of the day. "What is that sme...!?
(sees curled bird-like legs and claws, though Eric says is was something furrier) Ohmigodohmigod EW!" Earlier, Eric had walked up ahead of us on the hill and Sarah and I saw him bend over and move some branches from one side of the path to the other. Couldn't figure out what he was doing. Then we figured it out.
Other than that: lots of fun mud, waterfalls, exotic birds, trees, ferns, spiderwebs, barking dogs on the properties at the edges of the park, paperbag lunches, random pub and art gallery, marked paths, unmarked paths, Puffing Billy, peeling bark, peeing in bushes, lyre birds, altitude changes, and stinking up the train on the way back to the city.
...ed!
Finally.
I wanted to take a photo, but this was before I turned them in, so I was afraid to put them down. So this is a photo of the three copies of my thesis and the arm of my black sweater.
It's official.
Quote of the day
"If you like falling, gymnastics is the sport for you." -
Stick ItOhmigawd, Sarah and I just saw the new gymnastics movie. Sewww goood.
I expect a copy of it will enter into my collection, in the cheesy sports movie section. Right now that section is made up of the movie
The Cutting Edge (toe piiiiiiick!) and... I think that's it. But I plan to watch this one with the same frequency. That is to say, there's never a wrong time to watch it.
However, before you get all superior and make fun of my taste in movies, let me just say, this movie doesn't do the exact "star fallen on hard times, struggles, then wins the championship" thing. It's a little different. Not entirely, because then we would be in a different genre. The "non-formulaic good movie" genre. But still, it was good.
Perhaps we were influenced by the fact that Sarah and I both used to be gymnasts. Perhaps it was the sweet alcoholic beverages we snuck in. Perhaps it was the glue they sprayed to their asses.* The world may never know.
*To keep the leotards from riding up.
Dear Diary,
Today I woke up, read in bed for a while, had a relaxed breakfast, went to the gym, took a lazy shower, walked through the city to the
Immigration Museum, came home for dinner, then went to see a movie with Sarah.
Today is much better than this time last month when I was absolutely stuffed because of my looming thesis deadline and the massive amount of work I had to do.
Monday, I pick up the bound copies of my thesis and walk them over the the Research and Graduate Studies Office of La Trobe University, and turn that fucker* in.
Love, The crazy lady who is beginning to be able to construct full sentences in conversations again
*I apologize if I offend anyone's delicate sensibilities, but to refer to this thesis as anything less would be to misrepresent its character. I would never do that to you. You're welcome.
Quote of the day
MaryJ: Charlie, you'd really enjoy lesbian sex.
go see it*
Ballet Russes
(And click, 2, 3, 4)Saw it. Thought it was great.
A line from the film:
Australia?! We didn't want to go there. We thought it was just all convicts!
(The audience liked that one.)
Granted, Australia is only touched on briefly. Apparently I've been here long enough to have picked up the Aussie habit of focusing in solely on the Australian aspect of any project.
The dancers they interview are a trip. It's fantastic.
Oh, and Mom, one of the big dancers later went on to play Dan in
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Two points if you can pick him out.
*I should mention it's a two hour doco on these two companies. If you have no interest in artsy stuff or in Russian-Euro-NY 1930s-50s stuff it might be about a half hour too long for you. Maybe not. Who could pass up the famous London Ballet Wars? Seriously.
Lookitme! Lookitme!
I posted some photos that had been waiting these past few months for my lazy ass to post em. So they're up on the photo site (link at right). (Including the last of the Queensland photos, around Melbourne, assorted whatnot.)
Here's something to hold you over until you get there. It's my new haircut. And yes, they straightened my hair. It curls on its own. And I ain't gonna be spending hours putting hot metal near my head for straightenin' nothin'. So enjoy it here.
The newest photos aren't up, but should be shortly. No really. I swear.
(Oh, and I added some new photos to the La Mama album from my show. From three months ago.)
...ish...
Just dropped off the thesis copies to be bound.
Minor drama causing me to almost burst into tears in the print shop, but I stopped myself with an "ohmigawdyouseriouslyarenotgoingtocryaboutthisbecauseitisnotthatbig-ofadealandyoucanfixitsojustquititnow".
And that seemed to work.
All is well. I can pick 'em up on Monday.
Fin...
Today I printed out the three copies of my thesis that the powers that be asked for. Tomorrow I drop 'em off at the binding place. This was one day I gave up my "Save the Trees - Conserve Paper"-ism and traded it in for "Chop 'em if ya got 'em"-ism. A sad day for the trees. A happy day for the Halley. Also, an anal-retentive day - I spent far too many minutes making sure the pages I just checked were, indeed, still in the same order and hadn't spontaneously shuffled around and developed grape juice stains while my back was turned.
So I'm still going, technically, until it's bound and submitted. But I'm done with the typing/changing/editing part.
Eric took his last final this morning and Sarah finished last week. Poor Christine is still typing away at her thesis until her 3 July due date. As Captain of Team TV, I will be sending her a condolence card for all the hours of quality programming she's going to miss.
Always trying to help me out...
In one section of the thesis, I talk about the performative nature of identities in public spaces. One article I quote from is called, "Renegotiating the Heterosexual Street".
Our helpful friends at Microsoft Word added a program so that I received the following "Smart Tag" pop-up:
Would you like to add "Heterosexual Street" to your list of contacts?
Why, yes, thanks. Please add: John and Jane Smith, 123 Heterosexual Street, Straightsville, USA
I have updates
1) I have a new editor, who will get the thesis tomorrow.
2) I have already been called an idiot twice today by my advisor, on two different things. And it's still early. (There's usually at least one exhange per day where I'm made out to be a huge moron, but I'm feeling lucky today...) I'm sure she'll be thrilled when I'm gone, but upset that her name has to be attached in some way to the thesis. It's a trade off. How she suffers.
3) I have "Great Balls of Fire" in my head.
4) I have an interview and photo shoot next week, to be profiled in the university's postgrad prospectus for next year. Oy.
5) I have to get a haircut so I don't look so shaggy in the photo.
6) I have a dollar in multiple coins, but not in one coin because the bitch at the library wouldn't exchange it for me, so I could use the copier. Not that she didn't have it, but she wouldn't do it. I only needed to copy one page and nothing else, so the one page could've cost me a dollar. That would've been fine; whatever. But no. So I didn't get to copy the page I needed, and I wasn't about to check out a large, heavy 500 page book and carry it back to my office 20 minutes away just for one page.
That is all I have.
Giggling in the beverage aisle
They call it "Creaming Soda".
Well, it
does look happy...
She told me she knew MLA...
My thesis has gone to an editor. She is supposed to do all sorts of proofreading goodies.
Today, I have received two long emails asking me lists of MLA citation style questions.
If I were the expert, I would not have sent the document to this editor, now would I?
She sent me back some of the "decisions" she made when she wasn't sure. They were not the correct "decisions". One of these included the idea that it would be okay to change a quote (to comply with Aussie spelling and punctuation, coming from an American book). YOU CAN'T CHANGE QUOTATIONS!!! You can't. You just can't. It's possible that I could make a note about standardising the spellings, but even still, that's generally a no-no, no?
This is bad.
I'm going to talk to my advisor tomorrow morning at the office...
For the time being, you all have to be very nice to me. I've been in tears three times already today from all this bullshit. (And hearing that "I failed" isn't helping either.)
Fuck. I can't wait until all of this is over.
I'm rubber and you're glue
Now, I'm not pointing fingers. I'm not naming names. But apparently there's some rumor travelling in some circles that I have, in fact, flunked my thesis.
I'm not sure how this rumor got started. Perhaps it was my moaning and groaning about how I wasn't sure if I could finish it, or that I felt like I have no idea what I'm doing, or perhaps it was when I said that Australia was probably going to throw me out for being such a moron.
Let me clarify:
That did not mean that I had failed. My thesis hasn't even been submitted yet, so failure, at this point, would be impossible. (That would take real talent, to fail even before you submit the work...) While it has been rough going, my advisor now tells me that it's looking good. (She even said that a couple sections would make good articles that I could publish. With some work, of course.)
Had you seen some of the early drafts, I could understand where the idea of 'failure' might have occured to you. But you didn't see those. And you won't. :)
Anyway, could y'all please stop spreading the rumor that I failed? Or pretty soon the US is going to hear I'm too stupid and won't let me back in. And that would be something: to be too stupid for the US...
One serve of (vegetarian) fush and chups, please
I just booked 10 days in New Zealand. I fly into Auckland and out of Christchurch.
In between, I see glaciers, Kiwi cafes, hot springs, and Xena fighting rogue demi-gods on mountain peaks.
So if you need me between the 25th and the 4th, too damn bad. ;)
