MissLeonie.com

This… this is so tragic that I don’t really know what to say.

BSU Professor Dies in Boise Fire

I met Mary Ellen Ryder at the conference in Sheffield about a month ago. That means I obviously didn’t know her very well, but I do remember that on the last night of the conference, this professor laughed and held my glass of wine as I went Irish dancing on the lawn in front of the conference centre, assuring me that she didn’t mind. She sang beautifully. She was so kind to me, and she seemed so kind in general. I met about about 150 people over four days and struggled to remember all the names, yet when I heard this news, I immediately knew who she was. That should say something as to the impression she made. Her students obviously loved her. And her poor husband… words are useless in a situation like this. All I can say is that I feel for her family and friends.

She survived breast cancer twice, and had apparently recently been diagnosed with cancer again. And now she’s gone, gone due to a hungry grass fire… Unbelievable.

This cannot be for any greater good, I don’t care what religion may say. What kind of god signs off on this kind of stuff? It’s just not right.

I’m still busy writing my dissertation, but the bulk of it is over. I can’t believe I have written over 10,000 words. I didn’t think it possible. But I have somehow and it’s mostly coherent. This is the best part of challenges - getting to the other side with a sense of accomplishment. Almost there.

It’s slowly starting to sink in that I will be leaving England in just a few days’ time. I’ve been homesick during most all of my stay, but as I was walking to the convenience store to buy some much-needed chocolate, it suddenly dawned on me that it’s not all bad. I know this, of course, and I have realised it before, but as I was walking down the dark road with its old-fashioned, curvy street lights, it was suddenly clearer than ever. The noises of this neighbourhood, music blaring from bedroom windows, some loud discussions deep inside the houses, the sound of children’s play, dogs barking… All of it emphasises how very connected we are to everyone around us, especially in a neighbourhood crammed full of blocks of houses.

That said, I certainly won’t miss feeling a little scared anytime I leave the house. I won’t miss having to put on my mean face at night to avoid being spoken to by groups of bored, male teenagers. And I won’t miss the new décor in my living room, courtesy of a housemate with a very different taste in interior design. Heh.

Since the 25th of July, I’ve been on the phone with my mobile phone provider. My mum, upon going through my credit card statement (at my request - they are sent to my Dutch address while I’m in England and I am paranoid) noticed I had been charged five times ten pounds worth of credit in one day, and asked me if that was correct. It wasn’t, of course. Every single one of those transactions had been declined when I tried to top up my phone credit online.

I first found out while I was at a conference in Sheffield. I called MobileWorld, talked to a nice lady who said to send a copy of my credit card statement. I explained that that would be difficult or at least a bit cumbersome, so would scans do? Yes, they would. Excellent. She would also send me confirmation of receipt of my email and keep me updated about the progress. I was well-impressed with their customer service.

Only, I never heard anything again. Except from my bank, of course, about that whole credit card fraud incident thing I talked about a little while ago. Coincidence?

I phoned them again when I found out that I’d been wrongly charged before, another twenty pounds worth. I requested confirmation again, and the man on the phone assured me that he was emailing the first lady and explicitly urging her to contact me. Only, I never heard anything again.

So I called again. No no, no to worry, they were on top of this, this guy could tell that the electronic payment department were working on it, and the policy was for these things to be sorted within 7 working days. I asked him in what universe 7 days equalled two and a half weeks. Well, he didn’t know and it was most unfortunate, but things were in motion now, so don’t worry. I told him I’d give them another seven working days to figure it out or I would have to consider filing a report at the police station due to credit card fraud. I also made sure to convey my total lack of amusement at the proceedings. I was polite, but clearly also pissed off. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m so tired that using my keyboard as a pillow sounds delightful right now, but it’s time for a new post, so here goes.

I haven’t got particularly much to say except MUST. FINISH. DISSERTATION. I’m actually getting somewhere. For two days now I’ve been working on it in the library at the uni because my awesome friend Zoë was happy to give me a ride. Going to uni is much more efficient as far as getting work done is concerned when the trip there does not include 45 minutes on a bus and 20 minutes of walking, most likely in the rain. I do have a picture of said rain for you.

Anyway - currently focusing on really boring academic stuff, haven’t got much time to be really exciting, so I’ll try to keep posting regularly, but you might fall asleep before you get to the end of these posts. It is almost over, people. I can smell victory.

PS. Graphic: this is what happens when you are trying to take a photo while holding an umbrella in the other hand and zooming in a long way. Oh well.

These are butterfly bushes slowly conquering the wasteland next to my local convenience store. There are no words to describe how good it feels to get off the bus (just out of frame) after a long day and walk home past this wilderness. The building in the background is a library that, for reasons unknown although I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that it’s something to do with the level of literacy or interest in this neighbourhood, is never open. Initially, I wanted to upload this photo to Flickr in colour, but it didn’t work. There was too much colour. A rare, bright blue sky. Deep red brick. Purple flowers. Intensely green foliage. Somehow it obscured the structural chaos.

In the end, I realised the shapes were much more interesting. The industrial image of the library. The sprawling butterfly bushes. The sloping fence. The colour wasn’t adding to the picture, it was distracting. Now, I’m no expert in black and white, not at all, but I kind of like the look of this. There is something contradictory about displaying the chaos in easy-on-the-eyes shades of gray. And a bright pink butterfly, because I was secretly heartbroken to have to zap the purple out of the butterfly bushes.

The full version can be found on my Flickr page, or by clicking here.

The phone rings, but I’m busy on the computer and the number isn’t in my contacts list, so I decide to let it go. It tends to be my landlady roping me into things I honestly don’t have time for, and I have finally learnt my lesson. Politeness is overrated, people.

Then my phone beeps. Text message. “Hi there something with my lock I need ur help plz.” Signed, my housemate. Oh crap. I ignore a phone call for the first time in years and it’s my housemate who is trapped in his room. Nice one.

I go downstairs and ask him to pass his key under the door. The keys are on a key ring, so I end up going outside in my tracksuit bottoms and a pyjama top to take the keys he was dangling out of the window. He explains that the door locked itself as the door was shut and now it won’t open. I stick the key in the lock. The next key. The third and final key. The first key again. No luck. “Is it the silver key or one of the golden ones?” He has never actually locked his door before, so he doesn’t know. None of them will go into the lock. Damn.

I can’t get him out. He can’t get himself out. We manage to writhe open the door slightly, but part of the lock still catches and no amount of pressure applied most unceremoniously to the door makes a difference. I give up and give him our landlady’s phone number. She doesn’t pick up. I try some of the other numbers I have. Still nothing.

Just as I suggest he climbs out the window, my phone begins to ring. It’s the landlord. He suggests using a credit card, but all that does is bugger up the credit card. I ask my housemate if he wants a fork or something, and on the phone, the landlord says, “Knife!” Good idea. I grab a strong but old kitchen knife and he finally manages to force open the door.

Lessons learnt:

1. The owners of this house need to less of a cheapskate.
2. My brain doesn’t function in the morning.
3. Pick up the phone.

I’ve been tagged by Lanx to fill out this little questionnaire. Here goes!

Two names you go by:

1. Leonie (pronounced Lay-oh-nee)
2. Lee-oh-nee (in England/Australia)

(I have a serious lack of nicknames.)

Two things you are wearing right now:

1. tracksuit bottoms
2. pajama top

(Yes it’s almost 4pm, why do you ask?)

Two things you want very badly at the moment:

1. to finish my dissertation and go home
2. to go to Australia

Two things you did last night just before bed:

1. sing Happy Birthday to my mum on the phone
2. listen to Interpol

Two things you ate today:

1. a Sandwich Spread sandwich
2. I should really go and eat something else

Two people you just spoke with:

1. my mum
2. Liam

Two things you are doing tomorrow:

1. write my dissertation
2. sleep in

Two longest car rides:

1. any holiday to Spain
2. a holiday to Tuscany

Two favourite beverages:

1. lemon flavoured tea
2. honey rum

Two people I tag:

1. Mags
2. Masha

I don’t know what the protocol is as far as tagging and meme’s are concerned, but consider yourself invited if you feel like having a crack.

Don’t worry - you haven’t put your contacts in backwards, drunk too much or misplaced your glasses. The text size has just decreased a fair bit. I was getting a little sick of the humongous text, so I asked Liam to have a look at the style.css file for me. He asked why I didn’t just make a backup and mess around with it myself. Good question.

The best part? It worked! I totally did this myself. (I know it’s kind of sad that it inspires such pride in me, but dude, CSS!)

PS. I’ve also added Twitter to my sidebar. I thought I’d give it a go and what do you know, it didn’t crash the site. Twitter, in case you don’t know (here’s looking at you, mum and dad), is a service that lets you send short updates of what you’re up to to the people following your twitter stream or those reading your website, in this case. They’re like mini-updates that would look too pathetic as a post on their own. It’s Facebook, without the annoying superpokes, pets and vampire kisses. I’m not sure if it’s permanent, but I’ll give it a try for now. As I said to Liam though, if I start tweeting about my breakfast - shoot me.

PPS. The http://www.missleonie.com address works again! It’ll send you here, so you can forget the German.

Currently, when I try to log into the admin page for my website, I get an ominous “Error establishing a database connection”. I hope that’s just the Internet’s way of telling me to get some work done already.

I wrote a reasonable chunk of dissertation yesterday, and some part of my brain is revolting against having to do it all over again. I sympathise with this part of my brain most emphatically, but my better judgment begs me to ignore it. My better judgment obviously isn’t very strong, because here I am, typing up a page in Word because Wordpress has shut the door.

I thought I’d show you the state my desk is currently in. A bunch of books, copied chapters, printed articles off JStor, dictionaries, a thesaurus, post-its and… booze. The bottle of honey rum is hiding behind the laptop. Rest assured, I am not an alcoholic. I just realised the bottle was only a fifth gone and it’s been here six months, in a student house. I don’t think they’ll let me graduate if it’s not gone before I move home. Plus, I felt a bit silly at the prospect of bringing a nearly full bottle of liquor back home in a few weeks. In light of limited luggage allowances, I have to drink it. Obviously. And I kept forgetting about the juice of ancient gods that is honey rum (ron miel) when it was sitting on a dresser on the other side of the room.

It’s not almost full anymore. And my dissertation file isn’t almost empty anymore. A coincidence?

I bought myself a pair of two-tone brown leather killer heels today. They are fabulous. Comfortable too. There is just one problem…

The heel on them is rather high, placing my legs at such an angle when I sit down that the bones in my arse are no longer in horizontal alignment with the seat, instead they poke into the desk chair in a most uncomfortable, diagonal fashion. These shoes give me so much extra length on my lower legs that my knees are higher than my hips and the whole thing is most unpleasant.

I could of course just take off the shoes. But they are beautiful, and new, and they will stay on my feet when I go to bed tonight. My bum hurts.