(no subject)
I'm sitting at my parent's server, staring out at this amazing view of the ocean. I love this house--my grandparents built it in the seventies, when Merimbula was very small and sleepy. (It's more...mmm, tourist-y or commercial--yuppie is the word I'm avoiding, because living in the yuppie capital, I can safely say it's not that bad yet. 'Upscale' is perhaps to most neutral word I can come up with.) So the house is now a little retro, with the paisley-print curtains and the kitchen which was initially that horrifically vibrant shade of 70's green and has now faded gracefully to something paler. But it's got beautiful wood-panelling and looks out from the second story onto the entire northern-curve of Tura Beach. I'd love to take a picture, because I can't describe it worth a damn, but we're living in the technological dark-ages here (says she, in a family where not having n+1 computers per the number of people in the house is considered barbaric)--not a digital camera in sight.
There's this sheet of wind-swept cloud stretching from the horizon, so the sea is being particularly mutable, today, as the sun occasionally wins forth--currently, it's a flat plate of non-reflective silver, the headland a dark craggy shape, all its detail muted. It has changed already, in the time it took me to type that, and in the time it took me to type this (the wind has picked up, and the ocean's gone slate-dark). I'm giving up before I'm trapped in an endless cycle of description (it's raining now, light and misty--I can still see the sunlight bouncing off the water, out closer to the horizon).
I got my results on Monday--two HDs and a pass. I can't decide which is more pleasing--the pass in the subject I stopped attending lectures for, which were not even taped, after first term, or the 90 I got for trad. grammar, a class in which I only really did an acceptable amount of work, despite Dendro's allegations that covering my bedroom mirror with latin/ancient greek paradigm post-its was anal beyond all belief. I take my HD in English as simply further proof of the bad crack my lecturer was smoking. And my crim. law marks haven't been put up yet. Bitches. If I have to do a supp, then I want to know about it now. So I can spend the next three days uselessly moping (my textbooks all being quite deliberately left in Canberra). All of which makes an excellent case for actually doing work in law next semester. I have more than vague plans in that direction, but, then again, when have I not? (The rain has stopped, and the cloud has lifted and the air is so clear, I think I could reach out and touch the white-caps of the waves. I can see the pink and yellow in the sandstone cliffs again and the water is a deep smooth aqua.)
In other 'news', I am tentatively beginning Middlemarch, for the third time, and bemoaning my addiction to the sugary bad crack end of the literary spectrum. Meaning I really, really want the next Anita Blake to be out already. Because I was re-reading some of them as a reward for finishing everything on-time for once, but now I've finished them and switching back to something remotely worthwhile is apparently too strenuous a task for me when I'm on holidays. I like George Elliot, I like Middlemarch--it's an interesting book, but there is nothing in it, currently, which motivates me to pick it back up. No sex, violence, gore, magic, not even any dragons. And my cheap whore of an imagination, being a hopeless devotee of sensationalism, is apparently unstimulated by much else. Maybe if I try plying it with ice-cream and a hot bath...
There's this sheet of wind-swept cloud stretching from the horizon, so the sea is being particularly mutable, today, as the sun occasionally wins forth--currently, it's a flat plate of non-reflective silver, the headland a dark craggy shape, all its detail muted. It has changed already, in the time it took me to type that, and in the time it took me to type this (the wind has picked up, and the ocean's gone slate-dark). I'm giving up before I'm trapped in an endless cycle of description (it's raining now, light and misty--I can still see the sunlight bouncing off the water, out closer to the horizon).
I got my results on Monday--two HDs and a pass. I can't decide which is more pleasing--the pass in the subject I stopped attending lectures for, which were not even taped, after first term, or the 90 I got for trad. grammar, a class in which I only really did an acceptable amount of work, despite Dendro's allegations that covering my bedroom mirror with latin/ancient greek paradigm post-its was anal beyond all belief. I take my HD in English as simply further proof of the bad crack my lecturer was smoking. And my crim. law marks haven't been put up yet. Bitches. If I have to do a supp, then I want to know about it now. So I can spend the next three days uselessly moping (my textbooks all being quite deliberately left in Canberra). All of which makes an excellent case for actually doing work in law next semester. I have more than vague plans in that direction, but, then again, when have I not? (The rain has stopped, and the cloud has lifted and the air is so clear, I think I could reach out and touch the white-caps of the waves. I can see the pink and yellow in the sandstone cliffs again and the water is a deep smooth aqua.)
In other 'news', I am tentatively beginning Middlemarch, for the third time, and bemoaning my addiction to the sugary bad crack end of the literary spectrum. Meaning I really, really want the next Anita Blake to be out already. Because I was re-reading some of them as a reward for finishing everything on-time for once, but now I've finished them and switching back to something remotely worthwhile is apparently too strenuous a task for me when I'm on holidays. I like George Elliot, I like Middlemarch--it's an interesting book, but there is nothing in it, currently, which motivates me to pick it back up. No sex, violence, gore, magic, not even any dragons. And my cheap whore of an imagination, being a hopeless devotee of sensationalism, is apparently unstimulated by much else. Maybe if I try plying it with ice-cream and a hot bath...