dolorosa_12: (emily hanna)
Hello to all the new people now following me as a result of the friending meme (and for those of you who haven't seen the meme yet, it's here).

I thought I'd introduce myself to all of you. Feel free to ask me questions about anything.

Feel free to skip if you've had me in your circle/flist for a while )
dolorosa_12: (teen wolf)
Note: I'm talking here about my family in very positive terms. I know some of you have difficult or distressing relationships with your families, so this might be something you want to skip if you think it will be upsetting for you to read.

I don't want to make a super long post for International Women's Day, but I did want to talk a little bit about my wonderful, loquacious, gossipy, emotionally articulate, supportive, matriarchal family. My grandmother, who would have turned 87 on Friday, was the beating heart of our family, and was the oldest of seven siblings (five of whom survived past infancy), and her two sisters were always very much part of our family gatherings, laughing uproariously and talking at a million miles an hour. My grandmother did not have any formal education beyond the age of eight, and she wrote awkwardly because her teachers had forced her to write with her right hand, although she was left-handed. In spite of these obstacles, she was one of the most intelligent people I have ever known, a Scrabble and crossword fiend, so witty with her turns of phrase. She is the reason the rest of us are such champion talkers, and why so many of her daughters and granddaughters ended up in fields where words and communication are crucial.

My mother is the oldest of my grandmother's four daughters, and she was the first person in her family to go to university, and one of the first women in Australia to have a permanent show on the radio. She was the first and greatest in a long line of older women who acted as guides, teachers and mentors to me, and is responsible for my love of stories, literature, reading, writing and learning. One of the things I admire most about my mother is her ability to sit down next to any person in the world and find common ground, getting them to open up and tell their story. Above all things, my mother nurtured and encouraged my intellectual curiosity, and her staunch support and belief played a big role in giving me the strength and determination to pursue my academic qualifications to the bitter end.

Cut for photos )

I have the great fortune and privilege to be the oldest of five sisters (one of whom I grew up alongside, the other three being significantly younger), and to have grown up surrounded by aunts, great-aunts and female cousins (as well as my mother's closest female friends, who became like surrogate aunts to me), in a truly matriarchal family, where women's voices, experiences, relationships and feelings were genuinely celebrated. I have also been lucky in that since secondary school, my most important mentors (English teachers, supportive undergrad lecturers, Honours thesis supervisor, editors, MPhil and PhD supervisor, previous and current library bosses) have all been women. Furthermore, at every stage of my life, I have been friends with amazing, intelligent, compassionate and generally awesome women. This matters to me. It has shaped me and guided me, and given me strength and courage, and I like to think that I've been able to share some of that with the various girls and women in my life. I hope that all of the women reading this are able to experience something similar, whether with families of blood or of choice. It is my norm, it is my greatest joy and my greatest strength. It is my feminism.

Cut for more photos )
dolorosa_12: (sleepy hollow)
It's not every day you get a PhD. It's not every day you get a new sister. I was lucky and got both on the one day. 19th July is certainly going to be this year's most memorable day!

My dad had been making vague noises all year about coming to Cambridge for my graduation, but I knew that his and my stepmother's new baby was due on 29th July and it was probably not a good idea for him to be on the other side of the world. In any case, I was proved right - I was woken up by a text from my dad at about 1am on Saturday, informing me that the baby had been born early. Her name is Maud, and she is the youngest of five sisters, joining me, Miriam (who has the same mother and father as me), Kitty and Nell (who have a different mother to me and Miriam). People were joking on Facebook that my father is like a modern-day Mr Bennet (from Pride and Prejudice) or Tevye. I'm just glad his economic future doesn't depend on marrying us all off! There is a range of twenty-nine years in our ages, and we're all at such different stages of life: I've just finished a PhD, Miriam finished an MA last year and is working for the public service, Kitty is going into high school next year, Nell is in the early stages of primary school and Maud is a newborn baby.

Anyway, I managed to get back to sleep after being woken by Dad's text, I woke up and it was my graduation day. My mother and Miriam had come to the UK specially to be here for this, and they and Matthias were my guests. Graduation in Cambridge is a rather strange affair: students all have to wear black and white clothing (suits, black skirts and white blouses, or black dresses)* and a combination of hood and gown which varies depending on the degree they are to receive, any Cambridge degrees they already hold, and their age. As I already held a Cambridge MPhil, I had to wear an MPhil gown and hood. Graduating students have to process from their colleges to the Senate House through the centre of town. I'm lucky - my college is a two-minute walk from the Senate House - but it was a swelteringly hot day, and also kept threatening to rain. The woman next to me in the procession was someone I knew vaguely - she was also an Australian, and we'd both been wheeled out at the same event a while back to talk to a bunch of Indigenous people who were interested in coming to Cambridge (neither of us are Indigenous, but they just wanted Australians to give their impressions).

The ceremony itself is always very brief. Students are led forward four at a time by their college's Praelector, presented to the Vice Chancellor in Latin, and kneel down one by one before him (when I received my MPhil, the Vice Chancellor was a woman, but she has since retired). He mumbles a bit more Latin over the student, and that's it. I was concentrating so much on not tripping over my gown when I stood up that the whole thing was a bit of a blur, but Matthias said he felt a bit weepy.

Then we milled around outside the Senate House for ages, and took photos. I only have one so far, but once my mum's emailed me hers, I will upload them too.

 photo 10520086_10100955798768770_7477471729212381438_n_zps44805d5a.jpg

Graduation was followed by a buffet lunch in my college's formal hall. We were lucky to be seated next to a really nice Irish family, who became extremely chatty when they discovered what I had studied. I've never met an unfriendly Irish person, nor one who was uncomfortable talking to complete strangers. I'm sure they exist, but I've never met them.

After lunch, we met up with some friends for drinks in a nearby pub. People came and went, but the group included Former Housemate H, Former Sort-of Housemate J2, V, P, R, Matthias, Miriam, Mum and me.

So all in all, a wonderful day, filled with celebrations. I'm very relieved to be closing a door on the PhD side of my life. The PhD years were good years, growing years, learning years, changing years, but also very challenging years. I'm grateful to have been able to learn what I learnt about medieval Irish literature. The stories I studied were beautiful and will stay with me forever. And there really are no people like a really enthusiastic bunch of medievalists to have as friends. But once was enough! And a PhD is as far as I'd like to go in terms of academia (although I'm not ruling out some kind of taught MA at some point in the future).

I am Dr Dolorosa, and that's enough for now.
__________
*Those in the military are allowed to wear military uniform, and students are also allowed to wear 'national dress', although this is very vaguely defined. I've seen some women graduate in saris or kimono, and that's about it.
dolorosa_12: (matilda)
I'm reposting this slightly late, because posts from Dreamwidth don't seem to be importing properly to Livejournal. I actually wrote this on Tuesday, but only noticed it hadn't imported today.

The thing that struck me most upon my return was not the weather so much as the silence. My mother lives in the most densely-populated postcode in Australia. It is a suburb full of backpackers, nightclubs and bars, and is also the red light district. It is, as Matthias noted, the only place where it seems perfectly natural for a sourdough bakery to be open 24 hours a day. It's so vibrant and full of life. It seems so odd to be at home and hear nothing.

When I think back on the trip, the word that describes it best is 'whirlwind'. Not just in terms of time (we were only there for three weeks) but in terms of emotions. I felt as if the space that I had occupied there had closed up behind me, and while it wasn't too much work to make a space for myself again, it was work. It is, of course, entirely natural that people's lives move on when you go away, but I think the internet gives me an illusion of being up to date about all the changes people have gone through, and conversely keeps them entirely informed of who I've become.

I was really happy with how welcoming my family and friends were of Matthias. The trip was filled with events where I was able to catch up with everyone and where he was able to get to know people. Melbourne with my dad, stepmother and sisters was the usual chaotic fun, and we managed to see two of my friends there as well. In Sydney, I organised drinks and dinner on the roof of my apartment block (it has views of Sydney Harbour) with my Sydney Uni friends and K (who I've known since primary school through gymnastics). There were several other events with that group, so we managed to see everyone amid the comings and goings of the Christmas holidays. We also had lunch with [livejournal.com profile] angel_cc and [livejournal.com profile] catpuccino and dinner with two of Matthias' friends who live in Sydney. [livejournal.com profile] lucubratae came up for a daytrip and had lunch with us, which was great (and very generous). We also saw all my relatives on both sides of the family. But after two weeks, I found it all too much - I am an introvert at heart - and tried to slow down a bit. In the final week in Sydney, we mostly just did stuff on our own - lots of beach trips, a day exploring recommended bars and seeing The Hobbit (which I will write about later), and a day at the cricket, which was my birthday and Christmas present to Matthias.

The trip was a bit of a mixed bag, although on the whole it was positive. But I find it difficult to be confronted with the past, with my history, with the weight of people's memories. You cannot ever go back, and although I have no doubt that I would have a wonderful life if I moved back to Australia, the recent trip has convinced me that Britain is where I want to be for the moment.
dolorosa_12: (le guin)
The thing that struck me most upon my return was not the weather so much as the silence. My mother lives in the most densely-populated postcode in Australia. It is a suburb full of backpackers, nightclubs and bars, and is also the red light district. It is, as Matthias noted, the only place where it seems perfectly natural for a sourdough bakery to be open 24 hours a day. It's so vibrant and full of life. It seems so odd to be at home and hear nothing.

When I think back on the trip, the word that describes it best is 'whirlwind'. Not just in terms of time (we were only there for three weeks) but in terms of emotions. I felt as if the space that I had occupied there had closed up behind me, and while it wasn't too much work to make a space for myself again, it was work. It is, of course, entirely natural that people's lives move on when you go away, but I think the internet gives me an illusion of being up to date about all the changes people have gone through, and conversely keeps them entirely informed of who I've become.

I was really happy with how welcoming my family and friends were of Matthias. The trip was filled with events where I was able to catch up with everyone and where he was able to get to know people. Melbourne with my dad, stepmother and sisters was the usual chaotic fun, and we managed to see two of my friends there as well. In Sydney, I organised drinks and dinner on the roof of my apartment block (it has views of Sydney Harbour) with my Sydney Uni friends and K (who I've known since primary school through gymnastics). There were several other events with that group, so we managed to see everyone amid the comings and goings of the Christmas holidays. We also had lunch with [profile] angel_cc and [profile] catpuccino and dinner with two of Matthias' friends who live in Sydney. [profile] lucubratae came up for a daytrip and had lunch with us, which was great (and very generous). We also saw all my relatives on both sides of the family. But after two weeks, I found it all too much - I am an introvert at heart - and tried to slow down a bit. In the final week in Sydney, we mostly just did stuff on our own - lots of beach trips, a day exploring recommended bars and seeing The Hobbit (which I will write about later), and a day at the cricket, which was my birthday and Christmas present to Matthias.

The trip was a bit of a mixed bag, although on the whole it was positive. But I find it difficult to be confronted with the past, with my history, with the weight of people's memories. You cannot ever go back, and although I have no doubt that I would have a wonderful life if I moved back to Australia, the recent trip has convinced me that Britain is where I want to be for the moment.
dolorosa_12: (flight of the conchords)
Today is, for some reason, the birthday of about 10 people I know, but most importantly, it's the birthday of my wonderful sister Mim. Word on the street is that she's celebrating by going to a Radiohead concert, and I'm as sorry as ever to be on the opposite side of the world as her. She's had the most amazing year - getting a summer cadetship at a public service department, a cadetship that turned into a permanent, full-time job in Canberra, and finishing her Master's degree (she handed in her thesis a week or so ago). While we stay in touch as best we can, it's no substitute for being in the same country, and I'm really looking forward to seeing her in December. But anyway, happy birthday, Mim! You are wonderful!

Life and mini-reviews behind the cut )
dolorosa_12: (epic internet)
Someone on Tumblr posted this video about the Cirque du Soleil audition process. It sparked way too many memories.



For those who didn't know, I am, shall we say, rather obsessed with Cirque. We share a birth year, if not a birthday (Cirque came into this world about six months before I did), and I saw my first show, a performance of their original North American production, Le Cirque Réinventé during a holiday in New York when I was three. All I remember about that show is that I was terrified of clowns, and my mother reassured me that Cirque 'wasn't the kind of circus to have clowns', only to be greeted by a group of clowns who were doing the now-standard Cirque thing of wandering around as the audience was seated. I also remember that they got some ridiculous number of people on a bicycle. But I was hooked.

They didn't tour Australia during my early childhood, so the next time I saw a Cirque production was when their show Saltimbanco toured in 1997, when I was twelve. We were living in Canberra at the time, and they didn't include Canberra in the tour, so my father, sister and I made the trip to Sydney. I was awestruck. I loved the Russian swing act, the Chinese pole act, and above all, the adagio. I was a gymnast at the time, and my sister and I took a circus skills class as part of a music summer camp, and we came away from that show starry-eyed and absolutely convinced that we would audition for Cirque as an adagio flyer and base. Our plans, of course, came to nothing, although we spent a lot of time that summer choreographing an adagio act that we would supposedly use in an audition. Considering the most difficult adagio pose we could do was 'flag' (where the flyer stands with one foot on the base's legs and the other wrapped around the base's neck, and then leans outwards, holding one of the base's hands, if you can imagine that), we wouldn't have had a snowflake's chance in hell of getting in, but it was fun to practice.

Cirque came back two years later with Alegria, and we again made the trip from Canberra to Sydney, to fall in love all over again. This seems to have been the year when they really cracked Australia, because I remember seeing screenings of their shows on TV a lot after that. My favourites swiftly became Quidam (whose story spoke to my teenage angst and whose banquine act remains my favourite thing seen on a stage, ever) and Dralion, which has the most amazing music, costuming and choreography. I managed to see both of those shows live in Sydney. My sister and I were absolutely obnoxious throughout both performances, whispering literary analyses of the storylines and commentating on the acts with our (supposedly awesome) circus insider knowledge ('you can tell that that particular flyer is calling the act, watch his mouth, he's the one controlling the whole thing'; 'they've made it look like that dude is just dancing around, but watch him - he's spotting everyone - see how his eyes never leave the acrobats above him?'). I was absolutely ridiculous about this, utterly convinced that no one understood Cirque like we did. I thought everyone besides us was bandwagon-jumpers. (We were the One - or Two - True Fans, you know?) I would mutter scathingly to my sister whenever the audience applauded something that I considered not applause-worthy ('*I*, a fairly average gymnast, can do that, why the hell are those ignorant idiots applauding?'), or, even more unforgivably, when they didn't applaud something that was clearly awesome. I spent most of the performance of Dralion in tears because I had wanted to see it live for so long. I sobbed my eyes out when I saw the Quidam banquine act, like a Beatles fan at a show in the '60s. My sister and I had this elaborate plan whereby we'd go to the US and stay three nights in Vegas in order to see the permanent shows that Cirque had there. I had absolutely no desire to go to Vegas, but in order to see O, in particular, I would make such sacrifices!

By the time Varekai rolled around in 2006-7, my sister no longer wanted to play that game, and I'd grown up sufficiently to at least put a sock in it during the show. We were living in Sydney by that point, and saw a production in 2006. I loved Varekai but didn't realise how much a part of my life it would become. In 2007, I moved back to Canberra to work as a newspaper subeditor. Initially, that job was only two days a week, so I took on other work. Including working for Varekai during the two months they were in Canberra. I worked in the food stalls, selling popcorn, ice-creams, hotdogs and overpriced drinks to the audience. It was tough work - most importantly, the stalls had to be spotless when the audience could see them, which meant frantic cleaning during the two acts - but I loved it. We got to see the show once for free. But most importantly, when I worked, I felt like I was dancing. They set up a TV feed of the show so that we could gauge how long we would have before the audience was out, and to this day, certain songs from the soundtrack prompt a sense of anxiety and desire to scrub popcorn machines. I felt like a performer, a cog in a delicate and elaborate machine. Sure, I was just selling junk food to the masses, but the entire time I was working there, my brain would go into this kind of blissed-out state, interspersed with random rushes of adrenaline. The only thing that feels similar is the moment when I've been jogging for a long time, and my body ceases to hurt, my breathing comes easily and it's almost as if I am flying. There were people with Varekai who had been working there in other cities, and would be following the show on when it left Canberra. I still wouldn't mind doing something similar.

That was the last Cirque show that I saw. I can't afford the tickets now that I'm back at uni and living overseas. I miss it so much. Every so often I binge on Youtube clips, but it's not the same thing. Because it went beyond the shows themselves, wondrous as they were. It was something that I associated with my family, like going to see Bell Shakespeare Company productions (something that we did every year from 1996 until 2007, and which I miss almost as fiercely). I associate Cirque so strongly with my mother and sister that it would feel wrong to see a show with anyone else. And so it's become one of those things that I associate with childhood, something that is forever out of reach. Now that I think about it, Cirque was the first thing that I truly felt fannish about. I'm glad I wasn't aware of fandom then, because I would've been one of those horror-fans who winds being mocked on Encyclopædia Dramatica or Fandom Wank. I still love Cirque in much the same way (but without the snobby attitude towards other members of the audience, because that was just ridiculous, although in keeping with the pomposity I had at that age) and I long for the day when I can make it a part of my life again.
dolorosa_12: (sokka)
M [to me, after I'd had yet another freak-out about the fact that my student visa will run out in early 2014]: Right! Let's get married! Tomorrow!
Me: I don't think it works that way.

~

My sister Nell: Where are all the heroes? There are no heroes anymore. They're in the seaweed. Or dead.

(Sounds like she's nearly ready to start studying Old English elegies. Scroll down to 92a.)

~

[There was a conference in our department last weekend. One of the speakers, L, is a friend of mine and was staying with us. Dr Thunderous Laughter had invited her to have brunch yesterday morning.]

Me [hearing the door slam]: Was that L going just now?
M [getting up to check out the window, stops what he's doing]
Both of us [hearing a loud voice outside]: Well, no need to get up now.
M: It's kind of disturbing to hear Dr Thunderous Laughter outside our front door on a Sunday morning.

~

G [a friend of mine, and one of the speakers at the conference]: This isn't a complete translation. That ellipsis represents when my head hit the keyboard.
dolorosa_12: (Default)
Day 12. If you could trade places with anyone for one week, who would it be and why?
Ooh, this is a really tough questions. Ten years ago, I would've reeled off the name of any one of a hundred fictional characters. But all the fictional characters I admire have such terrible, stressful, dangerous lives! And the real-life people, too.

Then I thought, maybe I could trade places with any one of the number of people I knew who was doing harm to those around them, and attempt to undo the damage they'd done, but a week isn't really enough time to do such a thing, and I think the prospect of actually living the life of one of those people would turn my stomach.

To be honest, the idea of a body-swap terrifies me, because who knows what the other person would be doing with my body while I was gone?

________________________________

In other news, it's my amazing sister Mim's 23rd birthday today. I miss her so much. Facebook chat just isn't the same as being in the same place. But she's where she needs to be and I'm where I need to be, and that's how it is.

She's had a year of a lot of changes. She moved to Melbourne in February and is currently undertaking a Masters degree in media and communications at Monash University, as well as working full-time in a small film production company. I honestly don't know how she does it. If I were as busy as she is, I'd fall over from exhaustion.

So, happy birthday, Mim! I love you so much, and am so happy that you're my sister.

the other days )
dolorosa_12: (Default)
Day 12. If you could trade places with anyone for one week, who would it be and why?
Ooh, this is a really tough questions. Ten years ago, I would've reeled off the name of any one of a hundred fictional characters. But all the fictional characters I admire have such terrible, stressful, dangerous lives! And the real-life people, too.

Then I thought, maybe I could trade places with any one of the number of people I knew who was doing harm to those around them, and attempt to undo the damage they'd done, but a week isn't really enough time to do such a thing, and I think the prospect of actually living the life of one of those people would turn my stomach.

To be honest, the idea of a body-swap terrifies me, because who knows what the other person would be doing with my body while I was gone?

________________________________

In other news, it's my amazing sister Mim's 23rd birthday today. I miss her so much. Facebook chat just isn't the same as being in the same place. But she's where she needs to be and I'm where I need to be, and that's how it is.

She's had a year of a lot of changes. She moved to Melbourne in February and is currently undertaking a Masters degree in media and communications at Monash University, as well as working full-time in a small film production company. I honestly don't know how she does it. If I were as busy as she is, I'd fall over from exhaustion.

So, happy birthday, Mim! I love you so much, and am so happy that you're my sister.

the other days )
dolorosa_12: (dreaming)
I miss my little sisters.

Photo inside )
dolorosa_12: (dreaming)
I miss my little sisters.

Photo inside )
dolorosa_12: (Default)
I'd like to thank all the uploaders, without whom I'd never have finished this dissertation. *tear*

I'VE FINISHED!!!! I printed the whole thing up at 10am, and the departmental secretary bound it for me, and I handed it in, and it's done, done, done! I spent the whole day wanting to dance in the rain, with random strangers, along the cobblestone streets. You'll be pleased to know I restrained myself.

I promised myself a lot of things after I'd written my dissertation, and I've already gone and got the first of them, a Twitter account. You should all add me, because I am awesome (also, at the moment I only have two followers, which is nowhere near enough to encompass my internet attention-whoring). But yay! Now I can stalk Neil Gaiman and Cory Doctorow and John Scalzi and all those cool people!

In other news, Mimi and I were talking on Facebook today, and I realised how desperately I missed her. I've spoken to her on Skype I think twice since 26th September, 2008, which is incredible for me. But talking to her today on Facebook made me realise how amazing it is to have a sibling (well, a sibling with whom you get on quite well. I imagine if you hated your sibling it would be different). There's really nothing else quite like it. You can have these conversations so full of internal references that they are incomprehensible to outsiders. Such as the one we were having today:

You can't understand us because we are THAT awesome )

I imagine that makes sense to exactly two people in the whole world, and that's how I like it. I'd also like to point out that we were both completely sober at the time.
dolorosa_12: (Default)
I'd like to thank all the uploaders, without whom I'd never have finished this dissertation. *tear*

I'VE FINISHED!!!! I printed the whole thing up at 10am, and the departmental secretary bound it for me, and I handed it in, and it's done, done, done! I spent the whole day wanting to dance in the rain, with random strangers, along the cobblestone streets. You'll be pleased to know I restrained myself.

I promised myself a lot of things after I'd written my dissertation, and I've already gone and got the first of them, a Twitter account. You should all add me, because I am awesome (also, at the moment I only have two followers, which is nowhere near enough to encompass my internet attention-whoring). But yay! Now I can stalk Neil Gaiman and Cory Doctorow and John Scalzi and all those cool people!

In other news, Mimi and I were talking on Facebook today, and I realised how desperately I missed her. I've spoken to her on Skype I think twice since 26th September, 2008, which is incredible for me. But talking to her today on Facebook made me realise how amazing it is to have a sibling (well, a sibling with whom you get on quite well. I imagine if you hated your sibling it would be different). There's really nothing else quite like it. You can have these conversations so full of internal references that they are incomprehensible to outsiders. Such as the one we were having today:

You can't understand us because we are THAT awesome )

I imagine that makes sense to exactly two people in the whole world, and that's how I like it. I'd also like to point out that we were both completely sober at the time.
dolorosa_12: (Cirque)
One of my aunts went and stayed with Dad, Alice, Nell and Kitty. She took some pretty cute photos of my little sisters, so I thought I'd post them.

photos here )

In other news, I've just finished the first two books in the Book of the New Sun series, which I read at [livejournal.com profile] cereswunderkind's suggestion. I'm enjoying the series - although I came to the conclusion, last night, that I have never read a book that made me as terrified as The Claw of the Conciliator - but I get distracted by Dorcas' silly-sounding name. I know there's a very good reason for her to have this name but I've had to rename her in my head in order to be able to stop giggling at her name every time it appears on the page. Luckily, the main character is called Severian, which is a much cooler name.

Speaking of silly names in fantasy novels, I'm reading the second book of Sarah Ash's Tears of Artarmon books. Yes, that's right, Artarmon. It probably sounds all epic and portentous to Ash, but to me it remains the name of a rather conservative northern Sydney suburb. In fact, my mother went to school there at one point. Oh well, we can't expect these northern hemisphere types to know everything, can we?
dolorosa_12: (Cirque)
One of my aunts went and stayed with Dad, Alice, Nell and Kitty. She took some pretty cute photos of my little sisters, so I thought I'd post them.

photos here )

In other news, I've just finished the first two books in the Book of the New Sun series, which I read at [livejournal.com profile] cereswunderkind's suggestion. I'm enjoying the series - although I came to the conclusion, last night, that I have never read a book that made me as terrified as The Claw of the Conciliator - but I get distracted by Dorcas' silly-sounding name. I know there's a very good reason for her to have this name but I've had to rename her in my head in order to be able to stop giggling at her name every time it appears on the page. Luckily, the main character is called Severian, which is a much cooler name.

Speaking of silly names in fantasy novels, I'm reading the second book of Sarah Ash's Tears of Artarmon books. Yes, that's right, Artarmon. It probably sounds all epic and portentous to Ash, but to me it remains the name of a rather conservative northern Sydney suburb. In fact, my mother went to school there at one point. Oh well, we can't expect these northern hemisphere types to know everything, can we?
dolorosa_12: (child)
On Wednesday last week I had to babysit my little half-sister Kitty. She, like most children, didn't want to sleep. This is what unfolded.

Me: Kitty, you need to go to sleep now. You're very tired.
Kitty: Why don't you have to go to sleep now?
Me: Because I'm a grown-up and it's not my bedtime.
Kitty: Why don't grown-ups have to go to bed early?
Me: Because we don't need as much sleep.
Kitty: Do they get their energy from something else?

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dolorosa_12: (Default)
rushes into my heart and my skull

June 2017

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