My Words Trickle Down

Today was bleak and overcast. I assume it was also cold, but I haven't actually been outside all day. It's twilight now, and the only lights in the the damp dark are the artificial bulbs flickering through an inadequate screen of trees. As so often seems to happen, my mood has mirrored the weather. I'm tired as the leaves, too. I haven't slept much lately, and then this morning I woke up several times--starting around dawn!--but kept going back to sleep, and didn't actually get up until 11. By which point I think the whole day was pretty much shot. I've done absolutely nothing productive. I'm just not up to it.

It's a really bad time to be slumping, too. In addition to the loads of reading I have to do (as always), I'm running for election as Member for Women's Issues on the Student Representative Council. I need to publicise myself for that, I think there's some One World publicity I also need to do, and I think there's also Class Rep stuff I need to do, and I should get some publicity up as Environment Rep. But all I want to do is curl up in my bed.

I've spent all fucking day on the computer. At least it meant I got to talk to my brother. But he sent me a link to some bluegrass, and it's made me a bit homesick. It's odd. I don't get homesick often, and when I do it's very generalised. I don't miss the US at all. But I miss the physical place of North America, specifically the southeast thereof. I miss people, too, of course. But I find I miss North Carolina as a whole.

I think it's a particularly Southern thing to identify yourself as a citizen of your state first, and only secondly as an American. Of course, that attitude tends to disappear in times of war, and go underground. Since 9/11, if you asked just about anyone in the South they'd probably cite 'American' as their first-priority geographical identity. But state identity still runs deep. Hell, it's what led to the Civil War. So I don't see much contradiction in loving my state (even though I hate its politics, its government, and a good chunk of its population), and hating my country.

Don't go getting worried, now, y'all who know my politics. Even denying the validity of government, and borders, I still think there's something to be said for geographical identity. Not that it deserves all the recognition it's sometimes given, but one's geographical origin is still an important part of a person's identity.

*sigh* I was supposed to have spent today at an Anarchist book fair in London. It was promised to be such awesomeness, and I'd been looking forward to it since I learned of its existence back in like February. But there was confusion in the planning, and in the end the bus tickets had all sold out, and I couldn't afford the train--which just goes to further support my life strategy: never look forward to anything. I think I needed something like that, too. I haven't read any Anarchist theory that's more recent than Edward Abbey (I'm reading The Monkey Wrench Gang to console myself). So if anyone can point me to some good links I'd appreciate it. I'll even pretend I have time to read them. But right now I'm so exhausted I can barely type, let alone comprehend nuanced political arguments.

Ah, well. Here's a cute little irony to end the entry:

Sometimes my friend persuades me to play the IT box with him in the Union. It's essentially a flashy screen of trivia-based gambling. It likes to start off with relatively easy questions, and one of its favourite ways of presenting options is by alliteration. The other night, the question was:

Who sculpted the Statue of Liberty?

a. Bartholdi
b. [Some other B name]
c. Bakunin

I have a job :-) Finally. I was starting to get worried (by this time last year I had two jobs).

Now if only summer would come... It's been disgustingly cold and wet recently. Last night I was over at Kalea's, watching movies with her and her friend, and we both ended up staying the night because it was so nasty outside.

On balance, though, life is pretty good in the bubble. Outside of it, not so much. I have not seen or heard a single shred of optimistic news recently. We, as a species, are creating hell on earth, mostly through the actions of the world's governments.

The last several days have been gorgeous, warm and sunny. Riding around in the sunshine on a now-semi-functional bike, or hell, just being out in the sun and warmth, I felt happy right down to the bone. Like nothing could ever make me miserable again.

Of course, the problem with one's mood so often mirroring the weather is that the weather changes. Today dawned cool, overcast and misty. No, I've not become miserable--nor am I infused with a wistful melancholy. But I no longer feel the senseless optimism of yesterday.

Well, now that the beautiful weather excuse is over, perhaps it's time to stop slacking off. There are a lot of things I need to do in the next few weeks, but since none of them are immediately pressing, I've been letting myself pretty much ignore them.

I finally had a look at the essay questions for my next history essay. There isn't one explicitly about post-structuralism, which is dissappointing, although we do have the option of proposing questions to our tutors. As much as she goes on about it, I think my tutor might have some sort of intellectual orgasm if I asked to write about post-structuralism. I probably won't, though, since it will be involved in most of the social history questions anyway. Besides, there is another equally interesting question: "What role does gender play in the work of social historians?". There's also possibly the funniest essay question yet (at least in this subject): "Has Braudel reached his sell-by date? If so, why?" I ♥ Michael Bentley. St Andreans: he will be interviewed on Luke Chambers' and James Rose's show on StarFM, Tuesday the 17th. They also have Noam Chomsky booked(!) though they're not saying when.

I'm finally getting over this damn plague cold... just in time for spring allergies to kick in. FANTASTIC. Yesterday, walking to and from lectures, I kept getting strange looks. When I got back to my room and glanced in the mirror, I realised that my eyes were so puffed up I looked like I was about to cry. I should go back to North Carolina. I'm allergic to these cold places.

But the flowers are lovely. Azaleas are blooming by Uni Hall, crocuses are everywhere, and I saw morning glories on Wardlaw Gardens.

The lilacs are blooming! I love lilacs. They were always over by this time of year at Scattergood. Scotland has an amazing long spring (at least this year), and all the gardens seem to be planted to take advantage of it. Scattergood would usually have most of its flowering plants blooming at the same time, which was very pretty, but very temporary. North Carolina just has a very short and sporadic springtime in general, before the long, hot summer.

This spring started way back in February, when the weather was still cold and the trees were bare, but the snowdrops were blooming, with daffodils close on their heels. Before long the crocuses started up, and some kind of azaleas which were planted outside Hall, and yellow broom blossomed all over the golf course, making a very pretty view from the hill above. By the time the snowdrops and azaleas were over, the tulips were blooming, along with buds and blossoms on many trees. About that time, as well, these tiny little daisies started popping up all over lawns. Debbie says they're weeds, but I think they're sweet. Now the daffodils are gone, and the tulips starting to go, but in their place are irises and roses and lots of bluebells. The trees are fully leafed and I even saw some white rhododendrons blooming in the park.

Add to this the fact that the sun doesn't set until well after 9 pm (later every night!), and you see why I love Scotland! I don't want to leave! Today it was even warm enough to walk around all day in a T-shirt! This is the good time of year, I don't want to go home :(

To reassure those who were worried about me (and, I suppose, certain fairweather friends who probably don't read this anyway *cough*), I'm not feeling as crap as I was earlier. Not anywhere near.

It's really eerie how often my mood seems to mirror the weather. It finally stopped raining yesterday evening, and hasn't started up again. I still have yet to actually see the sun, but by this afternoon you could see the little bright spot penetrating the clouds, and there were even patches of blue in the eastern sky.

So. Today. It was a lot like the weather, actually. It started out overcast, but bright. I had a pleasant breakfast with Marianne, Jonni and Steph, but then I accidentally took the wrong folder to my first lecture. It was okay, though, because there was a handout and I could take notes on that. But then the amazing thing: I was actually on time to my Modern History lecture (which almost never happens, because it follows Philosophy and is all the way across town). Even better, the lecture was actually good, and I actually managed to take comprehensive notes.

I saw a chestnut tree on my way back from town today. It's in the park, on the side I don't walk through to get places. It made me all contemplative about trees and plant epidemics and life cycles and such, and then I started looking up nut trees on the internet. I ought to get some work done now.