Unearned privileges

I'm back in the big city with all the lovely pollen from all the beautiful flowers. I've also acquired a neti pot in an attempt to fight hay fever. It offers instant relief, but I haven't used it since I got back from my writing retreat last week. I'll keep you updated on how well it works in the long term.

I missed three things while I was in the teeny tiny house in the middle of nowhere. I didn't think of these things as privileges before the visit.

Trees and greenery
Apparently I struggle to live without trees. I especially like trees that are taller than me. It's not so much to ask in my opinion. I'm a shorty. From the little prefabricated houses you can't really see trees.You just see more little boxes. I was lucky to see a beautiful sunset at a guest house after I begged my friend to take me somewhere, anywhere to save me from cabin fever.

A beautiful sunset, but no big trees

Clean water
At home I just toddle over to the tap when I'm thirsty. Naturally the water tastes better (and is probably better for you) if you boil it first and then put it in the fridge to cool down, but it's perfectly possible to drink it. A little miscalculation in the amount of water at the beginning of the visit lead me to really appreciate being able to drink water whenever you feel like it since I felt I had to ration myself. The other water privilege only became apparent after a few showers. Little scratches became little sores. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to treat a serious injury there.

Silence
I didn't expect to have to add this to the list. The cliché of the quiet little village is a lie. Up to a point anyway. It's true that you don't hear the roar of city traffic, ambulance sirens or gunshots. The environment is quite quiet. This means that the doef-doef or the bass of noisy music carries beautifully; the houses are quite close together.

Little boxes

If you're like me, all the talk of little boxes will have made you remember the song. So I've added a link so you can listen to it. The first verse holds true, but unfortunately the people here don't all go to university. Some don't even finish school.

Master's
I remember seeing or reading about the downsides of rehab for addictions somewhere. Some people believe that rehab doesn't work since the people are taken away from temptation and weaned from using substances in an isolated environment. This does not necessarily help when they are returned to their ordinary environment. The same applies to the Biggest Loser programme. Many participants gain at least some of the weight back. It was easier to write when I had to face little temptation or irritation.

Project 36
Eating plan

Fun fact: eating food with a high fat content will make you gain weight

It's obvious, really. Since I've started visiting Marthie Leach I've eaten a low-fat diet. In the beginning I was a bit tragic about some foods that had to be moved to the only-eat-as-a-free-meal category, but my body has adapted. The week of eating snacks and "normal" food left me feeling fat.

Enter the dragon scale. The first weigh-in showed 2 kg more than when I left home. After eating my ordinary food and two days at home, it dropped to a 1 kg gain. Marthie Leach advocates a common sense approach to this - if you visit friends you will stray from your eating plan. Just remember to eat every two to three hours so that your body doesn't feel the need to hoard all the fat you're feeding it.

Gym
I haven't been there in a while. Must. Go. Back.

Writing retreat

Some of my blog readers are my friends (in other words, people I knew before starting to write this blog). The problem with having your friends on your blog is that they send you (nasty) emails or chats when they feel that you have not done your duty in keeping said blog updated. Benni, this update is for you!

Master's
I often hear of people going to "a retreat" to find or centre themselves. I always find this slightly ironic since a "retreat" is also a tactical move in battle where you choose to run away instead of facing more casualties. Since I'm battling with the Master's, I've done a bit of both this week. I'm visiting a friend who lives in the middle of nowhere.

I'm grateful that I managed to connect to the Internet today. My phone's network-based location is just "Southern" (mostly sunny). It doesn't even know that there is a (teeny weeny) town here. My friend isn't on leave so I work on the Master's in the day.

The view - it rained later in the afternoon

Part of the visit's success lies in the myriad of activities available: staring at the view or listening to the chickens. I can't even waste lots of time on the Internet since my network connection is precarious, to say the least. I can only connect to the web when the front door is closed and then only when my modem graciously agrees to function and not disconnect itself.

I've gotten some writing and planning done. For my visit it rained in the afternoons so I'm afraid that I tend to take a nap when the temperature goes down. On the other hand, the tactic of applying your derrière to the chair is working quite admirably; I've made notes and planned out notes and connections between two seemly disparate novels. On the other hand:

I've been sitting on the hard chair to the point where I've had to add a cushion

Project 36

The downside to there being nothing to do is that I’ve been snacking. Not the healthy Marthie Leach kind, the kind with fat and stuff (technical term describing my knowledge of unhealthy foods and my reluctance to think about what I’ve been munching): chips, my old friend chocolate and co.

You can't drink the tap water (without boiling and filtering it) and we miscalculated how much water I drink a day. Luckily we could made a supply run yesterday, but before that I was dabbling in carbonated sodas and lots of coffee to satisfy my liquid needs.

I'm a bit worried about my weigh-in when I get home >.<

Hope

"[W]e are reluctant to hope when we have once settled comfortably down to despair" - E. M. Forster

You don't always move forward in a straight line

Master's

I've applied my derrière to my chair today. Sometimes when I'm on a roll, I find that it breaks my concentration to look for a book and then find the quotation I almost know by heart. I use little text tags to hold the place of such a quote so that I can continue with the writing. To just get past my wonderful writer's block, I started by replacing <quote> and <ref>  with the specific quotes and references. I also have a "M date" tomorrow with a fellow student. I've written one page today.

How did the matric reunion go?

Well, well, well. What an interesting experience. 

I wavered between taking a friend along as a buffer, but in the end I decided to go on my own so that I wouldn't have to worry about amusing a companion. Instead I made a beeline for the people with whom I really wanted to chat. And yes, I enjoyed myself immensely.


Who else got fat?
Out of my fellow female attendees, I was the only one who managed to literally double my weight. I didn't care, they didn't seem to mind and I felt pretty. So, if you except me from the proceedings, the boys put on weight and the girls changed their hair colour.

Did everyone "grow up"?
Yes and no.Yes, there was a general improvement in manners and many people were just honestly glad to see each other. I went about greeting people and even got hugs from people that were a tad, how shall we call it, impulsive and impolitic in school or towards whom I acted in an impulsive and impolitic fashion. In other words, there was quite a bit of Wodehousesque "these fellows and damsels were at the old school with me. What ho!"

The other part of the experience was the regression factor. Highly amusing. If I concentrate very hard I could probably dredge up old grudges. Be angry about that boy who grabbed my derrière in matric. But seriously, why bother? I have a lovely life and we were teenagers then, for crying out loud! Some people came to the reunion with the express intention of settling some of these old scores or at least sticking to the cliques from school. Some kept score of who greeted them.

Did people change?
Not really. People have just become more who they were in high school. Poise and manners were popular acquisitions.

A picture is worth a thousand words
Some of my photographs. They reflect my sense of humour.

The head girl of our year and the Oompah Loompa band

 

Reunion coming up (update)

Final countdown
I started this blog in grand anticipation of my ten-year matric reunion. I was going to have a driver's licence, be much skinnier, and sommer (just because) for good measure be done with a pesky Magister Artium. So how far did I get?

Master's: not so good

Source: Wikimedia commons

My blog settings is that my blog should be for all ages. No parent should be horrified that their child accessed some Renoiresque girl's ranting about her degree and her weight. So I will use caution and only say:

<insert colourful language here>

Right, now that we've gotten that out of the way... When I started the blog I was adamant that if no chapters ensued by the end of the two months, I would give up the experiment and start job hunting. Guess what? It's five months on and yet, not a single complete chapter.  

<language containing even more of the picturesque>

I'm very tempted to give this whole thing up as a bad job. I'm thoroughly stuck and I'm being unfair to my good supervisor. And still, I'm stubborn. I don't want to give the whole thing up as a bad job. In other words, I'm extremely frustrated.

Project Nymphette: going well

Photo by Chris Mellows

 I have lost quite a bit of weight since the start of this project. I would guess at least 6 kg. According to the BMI, I still have 45 kg to go. They can forget about it. I've been that weight and it's just too skinny for me. I've lost most of the double chin. I can feel my ribs. I've lost clothing sizes. All this reminds me of a recent funny story.

Fun fact: you cannot wash shadows off

I don't always follow all the steps of my so-called beauty regime (just face  wash, toner and a cream), but I try to. I just wash my face by feel in the bath, but the toner and cream are usually applied while facing a mirror. Some time ago I started noticing that my neck seemed to be dirty. There were two (slightly) darker triangle-shaped spots that I just couldn't get clean. You guessed it, my bone structure is resurfacing and my collar bones and neck created some non-washable shadows.

Driver's licence
I haven't mentioned that part of the plan so far, since it does seem rather, well, embarrassing that I don't have one yet. It's a long story (all procrastination stories are). At any rate, I've returned to my driving instructor. Wish me luck

Support
My mom has been very sweet and I really appreciate it. I have more lurkers than followers, but the lurkers tend to encourage me in person on through gtalk. Thanks to everyone who takes an interest in the process!

Spar Women's Challenge 2011

Yesterday was an interesting day. My mother and I donned our green t-shirts and made our way to the Centurion Supersport stadium. We were ready to take on the Spar Women's Challenge. And before you feel too impressed, we did the 5 km fun walk. On the other hand, as recounted in my post on the quest for Abinger Harvest the slopes of Unisa were too much for me and my knee.

Spar Women's Challenge 2011: mother and daughter (frangipani) team

Thanks to the measles and so on, the only training I did for the event recently, besides jumping to conclusions*, was running around at a friend's batchelorette and dancing for hours at the wedding the week after. However, my knee made it and my mother and I completed the fun walk without resting along the way despite the hill (roughly between the 1 and 2 km mark - see picture below). Some people turned back at the hill - so it's basically Polly Shorts for the unfit. The women (and men dressed as women) and dogs were kind and encouraged each other to keep on going. I had to slow down, but otherwise the knee made no complaints.

Route map - taken from www.ladiesrace.co.za

The residents were also full of fun and Afrikaans music. Before the watering point (marked with a tap) a kind gentleman had his hose out to give water to dogs, children and me. The water was divine. Some of the other neighbours either held the hose over the wall to cool runners down or put their sprinklers outside for the same reason. I enjoyed the cooling down immensely.

Despite the length of the prize giving there were some highlights. I found out that the kind runner who smiled at me as I hit the water after finishing my walk was none other than Zola Budd! She won her age category in the 10 km race. I can't believe that I was in the same race (different category) as a former Olympic athlete.

My other moment at the prize giving is when they had a lucky draw. I won a shopping voucher!

Everyone who finished was awarded a medal

Thank you to all the organisers and paramedics. I'm just grateful that I didn't have to bother any of the medics as a patient :)

*expression appropriated from my GP. I once asked him if I should gym.  He looked me in the eye, kept a straight face and said: "Exercise is for the birds. All exercise I get is jumping to conclusions and running from responsibility". I love his sense of humour.

Gnaws: more adventures in reducing jeans

Master's
No progress. See previous post.

Gnaws
I am very proud of myself. So far I have not introduced my pet rabbit into discussions of weight loss and dissertation writing. I'm officially blowing my cover. I am, according to a good friend of mine, a "crazy bunny lady". You see, I have a pet house rabbit. She roams through the house. Sometimes I think I have it wrong and that the bunny has me as her human. She sleeps on my bed if it so pleases her and she has attempted to devour the corners of my Master's notes. Unfortunately some of the attempts were successful.

I will spare you paragraphs describing how cute the bunny is and just add a photo instead.

The bunny in my rabbit hoodie by SIN BIN.

Anyway, she tried to help me by reducing the amount of material used in one pair of jeans even further (see Shrinking my jeans) by thoughtfully gnawing some rather large holes in them. Naturally, she chose the more expensive pair to devour. She also chose the areas in which to reduce coverage carefully.

• There are two holes located over the buttocks.
• She thoughtfully removed half a belt loop (presumably as an indication that I should apply myself to the sewing machine or a message to binge eat until the pants fit again). Perhaps it has become less comfortable to sit on my stomach.
• There's also a nice gash on my outside thigh. 
• She made no adjustments to the legs.

In the pink

It's been a while since I last updated my blog. Why have I been so quiet? Adult measles. Fun fun fun.

The title of the post comes from a wonderful cream that I remember from having chicken pox as a child. If you lived in South Africa and have had a rash of some sort, you've probably been anointed with calydryl. It is a very pink cream and makes the rash look much worse, unless you plaster it on so thickly that all you see is pink. I took the picture below once I got to see the humour of the situation.

See the pale pink? That's the cream. The dark circles are all me.

And the sense of humour is what made is so tricky to sit in a dark room for a fortnight. I can just see how a dramatic teenager would enjoy the situation - sitting isolated in the dark, unable to go forth for fear of spreading infection, not able to work on the Master's since even the illumination from the computer screen hurt my eyes.

Last week was spent away from the interwebs since ill me put my modem in a "safe place". I don't know if I'm the only genius who chooses impossible safe places. Perhaps there's a touch of craziness that bubbles out when I really don't want to lose something. I carefully stashed my modem with my sewing supplies.

Corset win!

I usually only write one post a day, but I thought this little update deserved its own post.

Project 36
Right at the beginning of the blog I posted an image of a nymphette. For those who forgot, the post is The photo and here it is.

Click on the image for a better look

I've achieved one part of my challenge to myself - I fit into the corset!

I discovered this last night when I wormed in (with assistance). Over the weekend a (male) friend of mine gave me a look and told me that I ought to fit back into the corset. I continue to be astounded at my friends' insight into the contents of the forgotten recesses of my cupboards. Or they lurk and read the blog. At any rate, he was quite correct in his analysis. I fit in without those funny lumps that occasionally appear at the back when you shouldn't even have tried to get in.

Once I got over the general high of getting in, I tried the skirt. The ego trip slowed down to a crawl. Alas, the skirt is still much too small. This can mean that:

• I lost fat over my stomach first,
• the corset stretched, or
• my helper had good, strong hands and squashed me in.

I'm going for a combination of the first two. It might mean that the finale to my blog (I thought of wearing the outfit as a whole and having photos of me in similar poses) might not work since the top might fall off once the skirt fits, but still, empirical proof that I am smaller and getting closer to achieving my goals! Hooray!

When to use SparkNotes for a Magister Artium

Master's
I spent this afternoon being productive thanks to the Phinished community. I keep on being surprised at how much it helps to know and feel that you are not the only sucker that has committed yourself to finishing a dissertation. I still envy people who have a taught Master's since it seems that being taught would be much less effort than playing Rumpelstiltskinwith your ideas (trying to turn straw into gold or loose ideas into a coherent Master's).

Rumpelstiltskin
by H. J. Ford

Occasionally another kind of alchemy is required. I've read and reread my primary sources over and over. I should know everything off by heart by now, but still my brain sometimes turns into straw. In computer terms, I made a file for MA and just dumped all the information in there. My internal search engine doesn't always work. Which introduces us to our good friend SparkNotes.

I used to be a lecturer before I accepted government employment and capitalisation and became a Language Editor instead. This means that I know all the arguments against SparkNotes. I even wrote a rant in a test feedback after what seemed like millions of second-year scum (who wanted to become teachers) decided that it was just too difficult to read the play or failing that the Charles Lamb summary. If you really want to read the rant, you can find it here. It is not necessary to read between the lines to see I was disgruntled and annoyed.

However, at Master's level I think SparkNotes are incredibly useful when techno peasant brain indexing fails. Since I'm comparing Jane Austen's novels to that of E.M. Forster I keep looking for links until the boundries between the novels break down and I am left with characters trying to sneak into each other's books. My latest problem was inflammation in the Austens. Does Eliza Bennet or Marianne Dashwood fall in love with Willoughby? It's Marianne. Then what is the name of the ungrateful blister (it doesn't help to read P.G. Wodehouse in the bath neither) who slanders Mr Darcy?

Once the people in the books manage to run amok in my brain good old SparkNotes comes in useful. The students are correct - it is much quicker to consult notes than to plough through the novel. In my case the novels are strewn throughout the house as I move my writing space. SparkNotes solves the Austen problem: Eliza admires George Wickham. And the notes also quickly point out that Mrs Moore in A Passage to India has, by another marriage, a daughter named Stella and a son named Ralph (I was convinced his name was Henry or John). The factual inaccuracies also do not bother me since I know the novels. I can disdainfully sniff at plot analyses and move on.

In short, SparkNotes is a telephone book with the full names and surnames of characters. The notes also contain the address or name of the novel from whence the character escaped.

Shrinking my jeans

Tomorrow is Icon time. Like Upcon, Icon is a gaming convention. The joy of Icon is that I don't organise it and that I can just show up - as long as I'm dressed warmly. The winter solstice is gone which means that the real cold is only beginning. I want to wear warm pants. This leads to the title of today's post.

Project 36
It is surprisingly easy to miss some basic facts about losing weight. Especially if you call it "weight" and not "fat". I haven't lost that much weight, but I have lost fat. Isn't it a pity that you can't call a spade a spade any more? No-one is "fat" instead they are "overweight" and if there's a great deal of it "obese". Either which way, fat loss shows in centimetres (or inches, depending which side of the globe you come from). A few centimetres mark the difference between clothing sizes. (Which reminds me, if weight is so important, why doesn't weight feature directly in clothing sizes?)

I bought two pairs of jeans in summer which I forgot about until the cold started. I shortened them and then tried them both on separately. They were extremely comfortable and roomy. A belt was indicated. I proceeded to wear them and made a positive, astonishing and utterly annoying discovery. I could take them off without opening the button or undoing the zip. This would be exceedingly useful for Casanova, but not so much for me. I own jeans because they're warm.

My brainwave hit me when I was sorting the washing by colour and fabric. The jeans had a label indicating that, under normal conditions, tumble drying  is inadvisable. However, I had two pairs of jeans that were too large. I've just retrieved one of the pairs from the drier. So far, it's not falling off, even without a belt. Perhaps I can try this with some of my other clothes? I could save a lot of money ... hmmm...

Campus revisited

Master's
In my previous post I gloried in overcoming the injured knee to consult Unisa's library. On Monday, I made my way to the library at Tukkies (the University of Pretoria). My friend Anja of Coram publico is often to be found there (which is part of the attraction). She is also a Master's student.

Tuks's campus is mainly level and offers pleasant walks. No crutches needed. I know the library and its lifts well. The main benefit of working in the library and in the general area of another Master's student is that I concentrated and got some work done. With work I mean actual dissertation writing instead of taking notes, thinking or creatively procrastinating. Anja was similarly productive.

I rediscovered the joys of being at Tuks while the students are (mostly) away. The library is quiet, no herds of students stampede building entrances every ten minutes before the hour and, since no-one seems in a hurry to get in and out of the library, my access card functioned perfectly. And let's be honest, it is also less depressing not to have to face droves of bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and inescapably juvenile students. I hate to admit it, but they remind me that I'm older.

There are also other advantages of being on campus and fraternising with other post graduates. As usual, I didn't plan ahead and inform people that I would be on campus so instead of having lunch or coffee I got to see very cute critters and surprise another friend of mine.

A cute elephant shrew - photo by Sasha Hoffman

She is doing a study on the little things. It was great fun to explore a new building and see the arena where the shrews run around. I also had a giggle at the notice which asks researchers not to put the animals on the floor since the basement sometimes floods. (I'm sure that it's a serious matter for the animals, but the note amused me.) Asking questions led to an interesting piece of information: these shrews can be kept as pets.

Guess what I want?

Finally, Abinger Harvest is mine!

Master's
I took a week of completely undeserved doing-other-things time. This included the Great Wash (laundry and dishes), visiting Madam Marthie Leach the Awesome and sorting through papers. The Universe also responded to my wavering faith in the Master's degree by not allowing me to start gainful (in the monetary sense) employment in the corporate world. This message was delivered via a very kind and courteous you-are-not-the-successful-candidate email on Wednesday.

Today was a veritable triumph of endurance and sleuthing.  I broke through the conspiracy to halt my progress by finally going up to Unisa's library and making copies of the essays in Abinger Harvest by E. M. Forster. This sounds relatively simple, no?

Fun fact about me:

I have a bad knee.

In general it behaves itself, but it is not too happy with things like slopes. If you have never been to Unisa, the slopes look something like this:

View Larger Map

So halfway up the slope which my daring accomplice claimed: "was very short", both knees were very unhappy. Luckily a kind security officer assisted us and made us a special, dare I say it, disabled parking close to the entrance. Despite my stiffness and pain we continued on our brave search for the Essential Resource. We pressed through despite the queue and a general sense of slow moving. I limped my way to the shelf to miss, at first, and then find, with infinite relief, the book I've been looking for for over a month.

The essential resource

I should be mobile again soon - I've already started on the dicloflam (the disgusting generic of Cataflam, which works like a charm) and I hope to hobble less by tomorrow. I'll decide then if the whole shebang was worth it.

Gym
Murphy's law: if you go to the gym and walk far on the treadmill, you'll have to walk even further under less ideal conditions the next day.

Project 36
As discussed in my previous post, I had an appointment with Marthie Leach yesterday. I have mixed feelings about the results. My weight is up by 100g (which can be just winter clothing) and I've gained 0.5% body fat. I've discovered that your body retains fat when you get ill (and not just for heat as I supposed before).

Part of the joy in visiting Marthie Leach is that she is always supportive and always has ideas on how to handle whatever situation arises. The answer to my current need-to-feed problem is to eat popcorn. Live and learn. Act II Lightly Buttered popcorn (found in the local Spar in my case) is low in fat and high in volume. A whole pack of crunchy, warm deliciousness is the equivalent of two slices of bread (carbohydrate wise)!

I'm considering also posting recipes and low/no fat cooking tips. Leave a comment if you'd be interested :)

Conspiracy

Master's
Once upon a time there was an essential resource for a chapter. A month ago, our heroine carried the sacred tome to the land of The Shelf, where all her other Master's books were stored. When the primary sources were all reread and the arcane notes rediscovered, she sat down before her mystical laptop to spin out of knowledge, magic, enthusiasm and air an insightful chapter. She travelled to The Shelf to retrieve the sacred tome.

It was gone.

A thorough search and many adventures with rabbits later, the tome was nowhere to be found. Our heroine went on a quest. The Oracle of the University of Pretoria's website guided her search to a shelf in the tallest tower of the library. The rumours stated that it contained the essay required. It had also disappeared. The quest (and swearing) continues...

On a lighter note, I've discovered a useful resource for writing dissertations. I've discovered an online community that  helps you to feel less desperate: PhinisheD.

Nymphette
I'm not sure if I'm losing weight (the scale in the house shows no weight loss or gain, but did get wet in one of the great bathroom floods) or fat (I have an appointment with Marthie Leach next week). Weight is not the only factor to being a nymphette. One of the others is illustrated by the Pre-Raphaelites - gorgeous hair.

A Mermaid - JW Waterhouse

Hylas and the Nymphs (study 1) - JW Waterhouse

I was devastated when my hair stylist moved to Cape Town. Jade was a breakthrough in my life and taught me the value of having a hairstyle done by someone who knows exactly what they're doing.It took me six months to give up and have my hair cut by *gasp* someone else. I've got hair again, real hair as opposed to that-which-annoys-me-and-should-be-tucked-in-a-pony-tail hair.

Hooray for Edward from Head Boys in Brooklyn Mall.  I was at the point where I was about to cut my own hair when I wondered in. He was very kind (and has a different style from Jade). He believed me that I don't blow wave or use straighteners! Thanks to his scissors I can do modern girl and Pre-Raphaelite looks using only a bit of mousse.

The just-cut-and-styled look

Picnic time

My blog deals with preparing for yea old reunion (do I really want to go?), the Master's (of much blergh at the moment) and, alas, losing weight. But then nice things like picnics happen. Hooray! They interfere with Project 36 since I end up eating things I shouldn't, but it's good for the soul. Also, everyone knows that birthday cake doesn't cause fat even if it's chocolate cake.

I love the Pretoria Botanical Gardens. I used to fly my kite there when I was even younger and shorter than I am today. I also have vague memories of bringing tadpoles home. More recently, my friends have birthday picnics and open-air meetings there. Also, I go there as an excuse to play with my camera.

Here are the results of the time spent not having a lovely time and chatting, but playing with said camera.

Yummy bones on a black plate

Soft and delicious fangs ...

... that you can have much fun with

Black birthday balloons

Shadow of a mohawk

More fun with mohawks and umbrellas

Silhouette time

A different mohawk than the umbrella candidate

The birthday girl playing with the balloons