New weights programme at the gym. Ow. Also new regime where I go to the gym four times as much as I used to. The motivation behind this is this group I’ve joined, and we have swipe cards and they keep a record so at the next meeting everyone knows how many times I haven’t been to the gym. Which is kinda embarrassing, so I’m going to the gym lots now. And it’s good – I like it. There are always other people from the group there, so I can’t slack off like I used to and sit on the cycles at a low level reading Cosmo for half an hour and then leave feeling noble for going to the gym. Nope. No more lazy gym sessions. I’m actually pushing myself. At exercise. Which hasn’t happened since I was in the BOP Rep team for waterpolo, back in the day. Way back.
*
Made it to Etgar Keret in the Readers and Writers festival. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I came home afterwards and tried to write three short stories simultaneously. Haven’t read his stuff? Now is a good time to start. But you should really try to catch him live, he’s gorgeous. Might pay to take a cheesecake along, just in case...
I also went to the Prize in Modern Letters Ceremony cos that was free and there was wine and little cucumber sandwiches, and being a poor student I took full advantage...
I still think Kate should have won.
*
Current plan is to finish BA in English / Tohu Maoritanga this year then study art therapy somewhere, maybe Chicago. I kinda figured that having dual nationality would be useful in some way. But so far, it doesn’t seem to be good for anything. From what I can gather from the websites I’ve been reading, the only difference having a US passport makes is that it disqualifies me from a bunch of the scholarships available to NZers wanting to study in the States. That’s hardly fair, if you ask me!
I’m surprised how much I’m loving being an English lit student. I mean, given that I dropped out of English after fifth form... But I cried in class the other day. Just a tiny bit, and I don’t think anyone noticed...
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw ; whether the eave-drops fall
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
Coleridge. Where have you been all my life? I had no idea...
Posted by Fionnaigh at March 15, 2004 10:19 AMThat's a beautiful poem. Coleridge rocks :)
Fun Coleridge facts: only his wife called him Samuel. Most people called him Col. No-one called him Sam. He often signed his works S.T.C. or Estese.
Posted by: Tracey at March 15, 2004 04:36 PMYou had no idea because you obviously never paid attention to the EngLit PhD candidate you used to date. :)