Wibbling Thoughts

I’ve printed it out, and am taking it to be bound today.

I’ve applied for the job I’m going for (should hear whether I’m shortlisted in the next week).

I’ve even made a short list of photos for photography – found 15 out of over 300, and only need to cut three of them.

So why aren’t I happy and bouncy and full of yays?

At the moment I’m terrified, and incredibly nervous. I don’t have any reason to be, my next deadline is the 29th, and as long as I have 12 images I’m sorted. I need to decide an order, and do a bit more cutting and sticking and work in photoshop, but I’m not panicing about getting the work done. My exam is on the 19th May, so plenty of time to learn/revise, so I’m not panicing about that either. I’m panicing about something much much bigger, my life, my degree rests on stuff that I’m about to hand in/emailed in on Sunday.

I have a plan b if the job falls through, wonderful friends who I’ll have to leave behind and move to a new city that I lived in as a child.

It’s so uncertain, and new, and scary.

And I want to hide in bed and watch reruns of buffy.

Word Count : 13544 excluding bibliography and footnotes. That’s 1500 words under the maximum word limit.
Pages : 42 including Bibliography
References : 114

So, I’m currently a bit proud of myself. I could hand it in as is, but want to do more work on the introduction, although i don’t really know what else to write. It’s only 400 words long at the moment, and very brief, but I’m not sure what else to add to it. My next challenge is photography – I’m way behind on my visual journal, and other things. I need to do a major cutting and sticking session tomorrow, and then lock myself in the digital arts center for as long as possible, and aim to get the 8 photos I’m planning on using into a hand in able situation. Then I need to take about 3 memory cards full to get the remaining 4 images.

I’ve decided that I hate finals. With a passionate vengence.

I’m not even thinking about my exam, I don’t know the date therefore it’s not happening. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

I graduate on the 15th July – but I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up….

Remember I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I felt alone politically on the ship?

Well, part of that feeling has involved not mentioning my political views, because I don’t want to paint a target on myself. Well, now there is a whole thread of target painting.

Yay me.

What I didn’t mention in my last post is that my dissertation tutor is away at the moment. She returns two days before the deadline. She is apparently contactable by email though…

So, after a meeting with the undergraduate director for peace studies, I emailed her. On Monday. She hasn’t replied. Today’s job includes going into the department, finding someone, and holding them hostage until they help me*.

I’ve done the mini introductions and conclusions, and most of the spelling, and sorted out where the numbers for the foot notes should go in relation to the punctuation…and just about done the conclusion. But I’m still struggling on the introduction. Oh, and some guidence as to whether the thing is even vauglly good.

Meanwhile, I’ve been procrastinating. I went to the worlds most amazing camera shop, and they sorted me out with a macro photography set up for cheap by fitting a cannon to some obsucre lens adaptor ring, so my camera now takes m 42 lenses. Or any other lenses for that matter, as it’s just a case of getting the right ring. I also have a reverser ring, so I can take photos through a 50mm lens put backwards on the camera. And a rather nice 165mm/f2 portrait lens, which is beautiful. The best thing about the shop was that they weren’t trying to up sell me – they tempted me with things and then said “no, play with what you’ve got, then come back.” Which I think is a bit unfair, as I now want what I can’t have. Anyway, if you’re interested in finding out the name/where this places is…email me.

*Discalimer: This isn’t really my plan, if the news breaks that this has happened, it’s not me, it’s not my fault. I didn’t do it.

Well, the vast majority of the text is written, and has been commented upon. I’m now at 12060 words, with a minimum limit of 12000, so only have met the word count.

My current dissertation ‘to-do’ list is

*write the introduction
*finish the conclusion
*write short introductions and conclusions to each chapter
*check spelling
*mend references
*add page numbers
*mend bibliography

The deadline is the 17th April, and I’m hoping to get the first three bits done before the 10th, leaving me with a week to tidy up the damn thing.

My today job is the short introductions and conclusions to each chapter. Each word I write makes me die a little inside, it seems pathetic and childish to write “This is what I’m going to do, this is why I’m going to do it” at the start of every chapter. I really that if a chapter is titled “The Palestine Israel Conflict, and starts with the first Aliya in the 1880s, then it’s not a massive leap in reasoning to realise that the chapter is a basic history of the Palestine Israel Conflict. Similally, the chapter titled “Theories about Reconciliation” is a chapter examining theories about reconciliation.

My other problem is what do you put in an introduction? And a conclusion for that matter…’tis all very confusing…At the moment my conclusion is 356 words long, and I’ve pretty much ran out of things to say. I’ve just got about five paragraphs, one sumerising each chapter, and one summery of the whole thing. I’m sure that’s wrong somehow.

The whole bloody thing makes me want to scream.

In other news, I’m going to see the Terracotta Army on Friday with my family.

Today I have spent twelve hours on a coach and three at Aldermaston, a nuclear base near Reading. Aside from bumping into tractor girl, the day was pretty much a bog standard demo. It was uber fluffy, with no direct action (not even walking on the road to get the gates…), plenty of speeches and little in the way of action. It’s odd, I’m not used to that kind of thing anymore, there was a time when I’d be looking forward to it, be excited, spend time planning, making costumes and generally getting into the spirit of things…but not today.

I could blame it on the dissertation, or illness, but I think there is more to it than that. On the bus on the way down I felt very alienated, a feeling that wasn’t helped by the people behind me basically dissing everything that I believe in, and being fundamentalist liberals (the usual “people who don’t boycott Israel should be shot”, “Christianity is evil and repressive”, “The middle classes are evil” crap). I almost got off the bus at Leeds, in fact I did, I got about 10 meters away before I turned and got back on the bus. My only real friend on the bus joined a group dressing up as Maggie Thatcher and the miners, and I felt even more left out…I was beginning to wish I hadn’t come. Then I got off the bus.

At first, I thought that a random person had seen my housemate, because I wasn’t expecting to see anyone at the demo, but then I realised that it was Tractor Girl. And I was very happy. On the coach I commented that part of why I loved going on these demos was seeing my friends again, the sense of belonging and companionship that I felt when I was part of a group was missing from this demo. But thanks to a happy coincidence, it was a fantastic day.

For the last few years, I’ve felt that I was drifting away from the ship. Last Wightmeet was the realisation of this feeling, I’ve changed as a person in the last five years, and most of the changes have been from a fairly shy, conventional person to a significantly more confident and radical person. I don’t feel I have many friends on the ship who I can identify with politically, and to a lesser extent spirituality. I doubt there are many Christian Anarchists on the ship…Tractor Girl is one of the few who I feel comfortable talking to about faith and action (so comfortable that I did my best to corrupt Third Party…).

I’ve also decided that growing up sucks. I don’t want to get a job, I don’t want to move out of student accomodation into a real house, and I don’t want to leave university.

So, I’m applying for a job. It’s one I’ve wanted for a while, and I’m now sat with the application form. A few of the questions are quite difficult, and involve a bit of self censorship, so here is what I want to say…

How do you understand being ecumenical?

Sweetheart, I am ecumenical. I’m the living inbodyment of ecumenical. I’m confirmed as a Catholic and an Anglican, know the Methodist prayerbook by heart, go to a woolly liberal backslidden church that uses Iona liturgy and have taken communion in an Orthodox church, with the permission of the priest. Ecumenical is more than just appealing to the main denominations though, it’s a process not possible on earth. In order to be truly ecumenical worship has to be just the right mix of disturbing and comfortable for everyone on earth, a feat very difficult this side of heaven. Ecumenical worship is an ideal, each effort takes us one step closer to this ideal, but it’s unlikely we’ll succeed. It’s still worth trying though.

What do you understand by the phrase inclusive?

I live with a bi sexual polyamourous, gender queer atheist and zir (nominally) christian partner, who’s also poly and gender queer, and a sexual. I now use the pronouns “ze” and “zir” without feeling odd, and am perfectly comfortable with all forms of sex, gender and sexuality. And vauglly understand the differences. But inclusivity is more than that, and inclusive church is a space for anyone marginalised by society, it’s about safety and shelter for vulnerable, and challenge to the comfortable, it’s about trust and learning to cope with negative societal views. It’s not about rights and wrongs, the latest campaigns or buzz words, or providing a space for the depressed and the LGBTQ. It’s much, much, much more radical than that, inclusivity is never safe, never static, and always involves a risk. Inclusivity is about a BNP counciller sitting and praying next to an Anarchist.
And living with the discomfort that brings.

Because the handin date for the first draft of my dissertation is looming ever closer, I decided that today would be a good day to take a friends little girl out for a while. So me, another friend of mine (J) and 8 month old A went to Leeds for a day of geeky shopping and giving mummy a break. It was fantastic!

A was an angel – she didn’t fuss, or cry very much at all – just when I put her in the buggy, and she squaked in frustration a bit when I kept moving sharp or hot things out of her reach. She spent about an hour in a cafe with us, sitting up in a highchair and eating bits of cucumber and some sort of mushed up carrot thing whilst we ate chinese buffet and tried to keep her from grabbing it off our plates. It was just a fantastic day.

Plus, I brought the new Angel comic and got to read it on the train on the way back as J was holding the baby – there were two plot twists that I did not expect, and one (the main one) that I wasn’t that fussed with. But two deeply cool characters are back! I also got some cushion pads and will have to start to make stuff to sell at a craft fair I’m doing next wednesday.

It seems that everything else is so much more fun than writing my dissertation. Of which the end is in sight – I’m 800 words into chapter 4 which is meant to be my last chapter – my word count for this chapter is 3000 so it’s getting there!

Oh, and I also brought fair trade cheese.

We got burgled this evening (or last night actually).

The phrase is crap. Or shit. Or fuck. Or anyother swear word would be appropriate really…

They took family photos. Bastards.

Must. Write. Dissertation. Must. Concentrate.

Awww, stuff it…Stargate Atlanis is much more interesting than the peace efforts in the middle east…

I have 40 years of history to write. It’s not even that much, just 1800 words – I should be able to do that easily, but my brain is mush. And I’m ill, and I’m exhusted. I need some energy and some inspiration…And a TARDIS.

If I had a TARDIS I could have as many ill days as I want, and then zap back in time and hand it in on the due date. I’m sure that’s breaking the First Law of Time, but I don’t really care. It would be much more fun. Plus, I’d also have a Doctor…which would be FANTASTIC!