I wish I had a pithy title

I have stuff. My furniture arrived, the big Ikea bookcase is up (incidentally, this has led me to realise the source of Ultimate Evil is, in fact, Ikea. Just watch, I bet all Ikea products are rigged to go off and trigger the doomsday scenario. You'll know I'm right when the Apocalypse hits). I did my wrist in, and the next day ached in places I didn't know I had places. But the flat looks a little more like a home (a little: there is still so much cardboard and plastic wrappings and moving detritus everywhere, it looks a lot like a disaster zone. Interestingly, The Flattie is the main culprit, even though she has had her stuff for longer).

I am getting back into the swing of things re: Uni. I am suffering, though, from not having the net (and wow, is my priviledge showing here or what?). The person shows up in mid-April, until then, I have to come to Uni to get online, and since most of my course is online, I am coming into Uni a LOT.

Also regards Uni: I had to buy eight novels (well, six, since I owned two) and one of them The Sexual Life of Catherine M. was only available at Abbey's. Since I am a half hour bus ride away from Uni, I started reading it on the bus home. When I read, I get very absorbed in the book, so the first I knew of the small boy who sat next to me was when he turned to ask his mother what a 'cock' was. Cue me snapping the book closed and shoving it into my backpack, but not before the entire bus glared at me.

Careers fair was today. Very depressing. Apparently the only people who want Arts Grads are Tax offices: and the reason I did Arts was so that I would never have to work in something as soul destrying as Tax! (No offence to tax people out there, if you enjoy it, more power to you.) The Careers Fair has, however, cemented my desire to get a PhD and work as an Academic. It's a goal, don't laugh at it.

And now, a meeting with my Tutor, justifying my choice to set Little Red Riding Hood in the abandoned tunnels at St James Station. Hurrah!

Adventures with a Phillips head screwdriver

So, the delivery of Ikea stuff came off fine. And then came the assembly. I assessmbled a desk, and the little bookcase that the desk attaches to. It was difficult, because though I am the Allen Key Champion, I suck at anything requiring a screwdriver (I'm sure there is a dirty joke in there somewhere).

It was difficult, and somehow The Flattie managed to sleep through my beating at dowel with a rubber doorstop (no hammer) but the desk is up. Yay!

Ikea, an adventure

Well, as I predicted, Ikea happened. It sort of had to: I had no furniture (I am still sleeping on an air mattress, living out of a suitcase, and I have ONE pair of clean knickers, because the laundry... well, story for another time. My real estate agent is the original ditz.)

So, Ikea. Yesterday, The Flattie and I went to buy furniture. It was almost, but not quite an impulse visit. We both knew what we wanted, a bed (for her) and study furniture for me. I left the flat at 1 to meet Flattie, who was at Central. I thought the buses at the Glebe flat were bad. Nothing compared to the new place. I am startled to discover I possessed a depth of loathing for Sydney Buses I did not know was possible. But I digress.

We got the train from Central to Rhodes, and arrived at Ikea at about 2:30, only to discover that half of Sydney was also at Ikea. There was a clearance sale on. Good for Flattie, who discovered the bed she wanted (a completely awesome metal Tim Burton style cartoonish bed frame) was on special. Less awesome for me, because it forced me to dither.

I am a champion ditherer. Massively indecisive. Like my mother.

Did I want the small book case which was on special, or the bigger one, which though aesthetically more pleasing, was $200 more expensive. I appealed to The Flattie for help with the decision, and she told me that since I had cruelly forced her into making the final decision re: her bed, I was on my own.

We also got yelled when we asked if we really needed to fasten the book case to the wall. Apparently we are unrepentant baby killers for even considering going with out wall fasteners. I don't know why, as there are no babies in our flat, nor will there be any time soon.

I called Dad, and in his expert opinion, we wouldn't need wall fasteners. He also cruelly refused to make a decision for me.

Finally, I decided to bite the bullet, and buy the big book case, helped by the fact that I saw it set up with books in it... and it is pretty.

Then came the hard part. The self-serve section, with the disobedient trolleys and the big heavy trolleys. I don't think Flattie quite got the point of the big heavy trolleys, because she took one of the neat little supermarket style trolleys, and seemed to think we could share...

Needless to say, I very hastily took myself off to get a big trolley, and with the unwilling help of Flattie, loaded myself up with boxes. Many, many boxes. Many, many heavy boxes. I bought: a desk/ small book case combo; the big book case and a desk chair. I spent TOO MUCH MONEY. The Flattie had one little packet of bed slats in her trolley, and so we went through checkout (her bed was at a separate merchandise pick up place).

And then Flattie discovered that she had to load her mattress on the trolley, in the self service aisles. I don't know where she got the idea that it was different (I hadn't known she was buying a mattress). So she decided not to bother. Then she said she'd just buy one from the place that does free deliveries for UTS students. I told her that you had to spend more than $500. She said surely I needed more stuff? I looked at my boxes, and thought of the pile of stuff waiting for a removalist and said: NO.

So she decided we needed to run back in and get a mattress. By this point we were waiting in the home delivery line, and had been at Ikea for 2 and a half hours (!!). So I asked the nice man (and why it was me asking I don't know) if we could leave our trolleys and run back into the self service section just for ten minutes, we'll be quick, really. Finally, he relented and said yes, but warned us that our stuff might not be safe.

Meanwhile a young couple were improvising a taped up cover for some lounge chairs to avoid paying a $25 dollar waiver.

So The Flattie and I ran back into self service hell. (Those shelves are BIG.) I sort of maybe stole a trolley. (It was empty! And alone! I called out!) We powered to the place where the mattresses were, only to discover... the model Flattie had chosen was sold out. So then we had to test mattress (yes, right there, climbing into the gap between mattress and shelf) to find a replacement. Then we managed to womanhandle it onto the trolley (the mattress had handles on it. The plastic it was wrapped in? Not so much). I left Flattie at the checkout, and rushed back to out thankfully undamaged trolleys. The young couple were still wrapping couches.

The Flattie finally got through checkout, we left our stuff to be home delivered and left Ikea having spent, collectively, $1500. We were carrying one item: a set of $15 chair arms. Everything else arrives tomorrow, whereupon there will be a veritable orgy of assembling. But I am the Allen Key Champion, so.

We ate food court Thai (too poor to afford anything else) and rushed to the station in the rain, missing the train by 15 seconds, and thereby having to wait half an hour for the next one. We were blessed by buses (amazingly, this has not softened my feelings towards Sydney's public transport system joke.

Much wearied, with empty bank accounts, we arrived at home at 9.

I have to keep reminding myself that I am not actually that poor: I have savings, and besides there are plenty of people who would not have been able to afford that shopping spree at all. But I am a student, living on Centrelink, and about to descend back into Hospitality Hell AKA my old job, because "living" on Centrelink is impossible.

Reboot

Well, I'm back in the land down under. It's good to be home, even if I do miss China. I definitely don't miss the Great Firewall.

I'm with my parents at the moment. It's great, because I am Lady Muck, but 12 hours is a bit too long a commute. Thankfully I have found a flat in Sydney. It isn't my ideal flat, but it is a roof over my head, and that's the main thing. Now it is just arranging a mover, which I can't do until I know everything I'm taking down, which I can't do til my flatmate measures the room which will be my study.

I have the sneaking suspicions that Ikea will feature in the future.

I also told my parents about this blog. I feel that this may have been a mistake. Well, Mum, Dad, if you see me bitching on this blog, tough noogies.

My laptop is broken, and the new battery and power cord are on the way. Of course, this has added to my feeling that everything is happening at once. I hope things calm down once I'm back at Uni. And I've moved into the new flat properly.

Hoprefully, I'll soon rediscover coherence. I have lots of thinky thoughts just begging to made into blog posts.

But that's later.

Reading Comprehension

Today my 综合 teacher told me my reading was excellent. Which is good and all, except she sounded so surprised. I mean, yes thanks, I am not actually the class dunce. I misread one character: I said 住 (zhu) instead of 往 (wang). I’ve done worse, certainly, but I felt like she thought I was incompetent.

Just when I thought I was getting good at this shit.

In other news, I have a new hot water bottle. It is red and soft and fuzzy. They sell electric hot water bottles here, but I just… the thought of the combination of electricity and water seemed like a recipe for disaster, so no. Just no.

Friday's Photo

This was taken last Thursday, in Tiger Leaping Gorge.
I wanted to include one that I took on Friday morning, but alas, it seems to be on Mum's camera which is back in Australia.

On Friday morning, eating breakfast with this view, my Dad turns to me and says, "Where's the entrance to the Mountain Kingdom?"

And I say, "What?" thinking he's being serious.

Dad says, "Where do I go to knock on the secret door by moonlight so I can go into the under the mountain kingdom?" (and he calls me a geek).

I say, "Dad there is thing called fiction..."

Later on, when we were hiking, I looked at the mountains and saw what looked like a tiny cave mouth near the top of the gorge on the other side. (The photo on Mum's camera.)

"Look Dad," I said, "Moria."

"Let's go!" he replied.

Saturday Song

Life Effect by Stars

sorry for wasting your time
five long months on the telephone line
hours of asking if you were fine
and saying i was fine too

sorry but i’ve got to go
the birth was quick but the death is slow
there was so much i didn’t know
and so much i never knew about you

and so we disconnect, the room grows quiet around us
it’s called the life effect, will it always surround us?

who made you happy last night?
i don’t know his name, but christ can he fight
as i fell, he told me you had a light
i light that shone inside you

i found myself a decent man now
i love him because i can
the bravest that i’ve ever been
was when i ran away from you

and so we disconnect, the room grows quiet around us
it’s called the life effect, will it always surround us?
and so we disconnect, the room grows quiet around us
nothing left to protect, the end has finally found us

the day is almost over, it’s almost time for bed. so now you’ve finally lost me, rest your weary head....

Word of the Day

Susurration.

I like the way it sounds. I like sibilance of it; I've always had a week spot for 's' sounds. It's the sound of slow, comfortable conversation, of people who know each other too well to have to speak loudly. It's the sound of people sitting on the verandah with their shoulders touching, leaning on each other, into each other, drinking tea together, birdsong as the backdrop and the wind teasing the trees as they softly share secrets.

Word of the Day

Heuristic.

... yeah I was writing an essay.

Oh No November!

I've gone insane(r).

I signed up for NaNo. There's this novel I've been planning for YEARS, which I could never get to work, and I've finally said fuckit and decided to write it as the big, sprawling epic it wants to be, all about Gods and Demons and Angels and Fae and Mages, and a love story... I figure, I'll write it until the story is done. That was my block, I forgot it was a story first of all.

So I signed up for NaNo. I have a 5000+ word research project due in November (which involves talking to people. I AM NOT GOOD AT TALKING TO PEOPLE). And my mother and grandfather arrive in China on the 6th and in Kunming on the 12th. And if I want to submit stories to the UTS Anthology (and I do) I have to have them written. And this in ADDITION to the 16 hours of language class I have each week, which carries ungodly amounts of homework with it...

I may not survive.

Of course, typically of my family, my parents are bitching to me about my Grandpa not being organised, and my Grandpa has just emailed me asking if I can get my parents into gear, because it makes much more sense to talk to the 22 year old who is in another country than to pick up the phone and talk to each other, I don't even know.

Can it be December already?