Voices that Fall like Stones
There’s a strange smell around the computer, not quite like something is burning more like someone is smoking (as in cooking) something. Noticed it last night, can smell it again today. Can’t find where it is coming from. Hopefully my home won’t burn down
I just wrote a long journal entry, mostly about school and then my computer crashed and it was lost. Yes I know save as you go, but well these things usually only come to mind when it’s too late.
I am a little worried about the paper I started yesterday. It looks like it is going to be very difficult and a lot of work. There is a big weekly work load, at least 4 readings a week and the assignments look like they are going to be difficult. I sat there reading the first reading today wondering if I should drop out of it and do the two 300 papers I had thought about doing. I probably won’t, although I am concerned about what grade I will get. Part of me is looking forward to the challenge, but there is always that fear of needing a good grade hanging over my head. The classes are going to be run a little different than usual. There is no real lectures, basically we go in and discuss the readings in depth for 2 hours. It sounds interesting, but it will mean that I can’t be lazy about keeping up with my readings. The class is very small 6 people and the lecturer. One of those people is a woman I meet in a class a couple of years ago, a really annoying woman that I constantly have to bite my tongue with and keep my hand from reaching out and trying to slap some sense into her. So amongst everything else this year will be a lesson in tolerance. I am sort of hoping she will drop out, but if she doesn’t, well maybe I won’t be the stupidest person in the class. The lecturer is new, well new for me, she came to the department last year. She seems ok as a person, I don’t know how she is in her requirements and marking style will be. She does seem a bit ditzy though, this is the same woman that didn’t have any of the room or time details at the prelims.
This is going to be a difficult year I think. This paper is going to be a lot of hard work, and the 480 will mean a lot of personal work as well. In some ways this is good, because if I do get into Masters 90% of it will all be self directed. So I will learn (hopefully) about keeping to a schedule and working intrinsically. I do feel overloaded and overwhelmed right now. I am hoping that settles down a little when I get into the routine of it.
Isabella
I’m starting this entry with a whinge, but please read past that this is not a whingey journal post.
I went to the prelims on Friday. Now they are generally a waste of time, at best you heard 10 minutes about the course, all of which gets repeated on the first day anyway. Most people don’t show up for them, in fact the one I went to last Friday had 4 students and 5 lectures here. I only go because they tell you when and where the lectures are, which helps us feel more comfortable we can feel prepared and in control of where we are going. So I sit and listen to the woman telling us about what 406 is about (which seems very complicated and a little scary) and when she is finished she asked for any questions. I ask where and when the class is, and well, she doesn’t know, she hasn’t a clue and says I should ring the department and find out. This is at 4:30 on the Friday before classes start, so there is no way for me to find out until Monday, and if it’s a Monday lecture then we are going to be stressed to all hell about it. I was so pissed.
Ok enough complaining on to the great stuff. I also picked up my ID card when I went in on Friday. Disability office arrange it for me so I don’t have to go through the ordeal of getting my photo taken. Last year when I was working there I was told I could have Shire as my preferred name on the details. Actually the guy did it for me which I was very appreciative about. Now I thought this would mean it would just show up on the records, my legal name then Shire as a preferred name. I pick up my card, look at the shocking photo and then it catches my eye. My name on my ID card is Shire (Surname), Everywhere at University I will now be known as Shire. Of course because I am known in the department and have been for a while it might take a number of them to get out of calling me by the other name. But this is something that is amazing for me. There is something powerful for me to have that name, Shire be my name, be officially recognised. I can’t still afford to get it legally recognised but this is a great thing. I was giddy with excitement about it, literally I felt like I had been given a wonderful gift.
After my prelims I came home to meet a guy. We have only really been talking for a week. He lives in Queenstown. On Thursday he said he had to come through to Dunedin on business and would we like to meet. He did say it was soon in everything but it was a good way to see if it was worth pursuing, to get that in first person meeting out of the way. So I invited him up for coffee when I got home. If it didn’t work out it would still be early enough for him to drive back home. We had a coffee, it was all very polite and civilised. About 45 minutes later he asked me if I wanted a wine, he had some in the car. He works in wine. So I said rather bluntly does this mean you are interested in me still? He said that the fact he had his boots off showed that he was very comfortable in my home and in my company, and the fact was he attracted to me the moment he looked into my eyes, eyes being a big deal to him. Now normally I would go *puke* at that sort of statement, but it made me smile. Yes I think I am accepting slowly there is a romantic in me. So we had some wine, very nice wine at that, and talked some more. I asked him if he had eaten, panicking a little about the total lack of food in the house. He hadn’t but said that we should go out to dinner.
Now this for so many people would probably be a normal thing to do on a Friday night. But for us it was amazing. We can’t remember the last time someone took us out to dinner, at least not a dating type dinner. He liked the idea of Italian so we went up to a little restaurant up the hill. It was lovely. The meal was very nice, the atmosphere was nice, the wine was lovely, and well I really enjoyed his company. I was not sure I would. The first time I talked to him on the phone it was awkward. First calls are always a little awkward and he admitted to hating phones, he doesn’t really like talking on them. But at the time it just felt stilted like we had nothing to say to each other. But before and during dinner that proved not to be the case. I did feel a little awkward about the money issue. Because he was paying I felt uncomfortable about ordering, but he seemed comfortable with it. I had lemon shrimp pasta, and shared some rosemary bread and a Caesar salad with him. This was all so strange and yet so normal as well. I looked around me at other couples and thought these people probably do this all the time, it must feel natural to them. I felt equally out of my depth and happy about it. I had put on a skirt and makeup and surprisingly didn’t feel ugly or out of place. It’s that weird ambivalence thing going on. I felt like I shouldn’t be there, that this isn’t the life I have, but at the same time it feel so natural and normal. And he seemed very comfortable with my company, he enjoyed it. Shock horror, it appears he had as good a time as I did.
After dinner we came back to my place and he made me a coffee and then we drank more wine. Now there is a thing that happens when I have a bit to drink, I tend to speak without thinking things through. I tell things I would normally keep secret. I wasn’t drunk but between us we had three bottles of wine so there was a soft pleasant buzz going on. He said something about me visiting him in Queenstown and I commented that I wasn’t sure about that as I had had some bad experiences in the town. Now normally when he asked me what those were I would have made some vague comment, but as I said, wine consumption not good for keeping secrets. I told him I was abused by my grandparents and that they had paedophile friends they took me to in Queenstown. Now as soon as it was out of my mouth I was horrified. When he said something about seeing me as amazing I thought, yeah sure but it will be good bye in a couple of minutes. I was freaking out about that when he leaned in and kissed me. Our first kiss and probably the best timing for it. It felt passionate, I could tell that even knowing that the desire was still there. We talked and kissed some more. I know things about this man now, I know some of his life, he let me into who he is and where he comes from. Is this normal dating experience I wonder? It’s not something I normally experience. When later we went to bed and had sex it wasn’t the normal two bodies exploring physical pleasure, it was intimacy between two people, he was a person to me, and I to him. I know intellectually this is how it is, or how it is suppose to be. But for me it was unusual.
We tried to sleep in the same bed but it got too hot for me, and the heat became oppressive. I wanted him to stay in the bed beside me but it wasn’t working. We had talked about it earlier about the fact I have a single bed. He said he would be fine on the floor if he had a pillow and some blankets so I had to ask him to move down there. It was disappointing but really the only option. He was fine with it, and in the morning when I woke up he was still there. It has been forever, not since I was with Chris in Auckland that I have woken up in the morning to find someone still there. He crawled back in bed with me for a while then got up and made me coffee. So I suppose that could be considered having breakfast together. Tired he had a rest, sleeping for about an hour as I checked stuff online and straightened up the house a little. After he got up, well we had normality again. Normal is so shocking really, it is strange but I think I enjoy it. Listening to him showering, having a coffee and talking about what plans there were for the rest of the day. And for the most of the time we just enjoyed the experience, occasionally fears and that old crap crept up, but we seemed to have a handle on it. Because he has forgotten his soap-free soap he had used the soap in my bathroom to shave with and his face broke out into a rash because of it, so said he needed to go to the supermarket and get some more.
Now at the time I didn’t think much of that, I needed to get shampoo myself so I said we could go to the supermarket after lunch. It wasn’t until saying that to a friend on the phone last night that I realised this must have meant that even then he knew we would be coming back. He was going home that night so didn’t need soap, he brought it so it would be here next time he comes down, so therefore he must have been planning on coming down. We went to my coffee place for lunch, and then went down the road to the supermarket. I nearly had a panic attack when we were walking and he reached and slipped his hand in my mine. Now it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be holding hands with him, but I couldn’t understand it at that moment. Why would he want to hold hands with me in public? Wasn’t he worried someone would see? I didn’t show my confusion or fears as I tried to work it out. The only answer I could come with, and one that still surprises me is he liked holding my hand and wasn’t ashamed of me. It is a damn hard concept to grasp. He talked about buying another bottle of wine and asked if there was anywhere around to get it, frowning at me when I said the supermarket. He manages a high market wine shop in Queenstown and is educated in wine marketing and viniculture. So yes a little bit snobby about wines, although not pretentious about it. He had said the first night he can spout all the snobby stuff about the wine and the grapes and what side of the hill they were planted on, but wine is primarily there to be enjoyed. Down to earth and educated how perfect.
Back at home we sat out in the sun for a while enjoying the wine and the warmth and each other. It was quite amusing though, my neighbours parents are down. I didn’t know this, but whilst we were sitting on the balcony her mother came out. Now she always says hello and chats with me when she is there. This time she pretended not to see me. Now knowing how conservative Christian they are, she was probably shocked to see me drinking with a man sitting on the ground beside me stroking my leg. Oh what a harlot I am. When the heat got too much for me we went back inside. He said he didn’t have to leave until about 6, so well, things got a little heated again. I think at that stage I still believed he would go home and I wouldn’t see him again. He said all the right things you know, but I still have my own insecurities. When he left he said he would ring me when he got home and I asked him to do so because he was exhausted and it was a long drive so I wanted to be sure he got home safely. He said he would be down next Friday if that was ok with me. And of course it was. When I showed him to the door as I would normally I was confused to see he wanted and expected me to walk him to his car. There is so much about normality that I don’t understand yet, that I have to learn. He wanted me with him all the way, it wasn’t a lets get out of here atmosphere, it was more a sadness in parting.
He rang when he got home and we talked for a little bit then continued talking online later. We arranged him coming down next week. Because I have a one off class until 5:30 that day I said if he arrived before I got home to just come in. He has decided to cook me dinner, he said he makes a good risotto, so if I am not home he will just come in and get that started. It would appear that I have managed to get myself into a relationship without realising it. Yes there is a bit of fear associated with that. Fear of the unknown, fear of all the confusion it brings. It is confusing to be with this person to be real and open with another. It is about enjoying each others company more than it is about sex. (not that the sex is bad) and that confuses me because it is so unknown. If what he says is true, and it would appear to be, he is looking at this as a long term relationship. He isn’t going to move to Dunedin, and I am not moving to Queenstown. But he has said he loves to drive and it is only about a three and a half hour drive between our homes and that is something he doesn’t mind doing. So it is a long distance with regular meeting relationship. That works for me, he like me doesn’t want to move in with someone, but to have our own space and our together times. If he lived in town it might be easier, but this seems a good thing. He joked about taking me to Australia when he goes to visit his family in November. Well it wasn’t joking about taking me but joking about what we will do together. I don’t know, that’s a long way away.
This has stirred up so much stuff. I am excited about it, excited about the possibilities. I am confused and a little scared about getting into something serious. I wanted a relationship, I wanted to be allowed into someone’s life, to have a outside of the bed relationship with someone. I wanted to be able to do things with them, to enjoy them and these things seem to be happening. But in many ways I am out of my depth in totally new terrain and that’s frightening. I wrote someone an email last night and said, shit does this mean I am recovering. Recovery has meant that for us. Not dating, I mean I don’t mean I am doing recovery so I can date someone, but to find my way to life, to learn to live in this world, not just survive, not just hold on, but have enjoyment, challenges good days bad days, to feel and be alive. I do believe this relationship, the fact I allowed it in my life is an indication I am on the right track. There is so much crap going on in my life at the moment, the depression the bad memories, but it is good to know that even amongst all that we are moving in the direction we want to move. To be alive in the world means that there is bad and good and indifferent to experience. It is nice we get to experience the good as well.
(mostly) Isabella
I haven’t written here for ages, so since the weather has turned to crap and we have no incentive to go out in it to get our groceries I thought I would write something.
I have an appointment tomorrow to get new glasses. I think we wrote about needing them as these ones are basically held together by cellotape. Because I am on a benefit it is an expensive I really can’t afford. So I went to WINZ last week to see what the deal would be on getting an advance. I was told I needed a bank statement of the last 10 transactions and a quote from the optometrists. So I do that all for my Monday appointment which seemed all pretty good. I go in on Monday and the case manager goes off her nut. Ok that might be a bit of an exaggeration. She gets all superior and reacts to me as if I am an idiot. Why? Because I got a quote, because I did what I was told to do. Supposedly I should have just got my glasses and brought in the bill. So because I did what I was told to do originally I was treated like an unintelligent fool. Ok I can handle that I started to explain politely that I understood what she wanted and would do that. But it seems others here thought I was being too polite, which I can be at times, but I just didn’t want a scene. Wade took over and put her in her place. She wasn’t offensive or attacking about it, in fact it was very interesting to watch her telling our case manager that she didn’t appreciate the attitude and before she treated us like we were a fool maybe she should make sure that the information we are given is correct in the first place. The woman became very polite and helpful telling us how much money we are entitled to for extras, and how to go about applying for that and what it covers. We have never been given such information before, not so freely and forth coming. Now we probably won’t use it, we are usually far too proud and independent to ask for assistance, but to be given such information so freely was surprising. We are usually treated like embezzlers when we ask for insistence. Perhaps Wade should be responsible for benefit tasks from now on. The only real worry I have about the whole thing right now is if we bring in the bill for our new glasses and for some reason that we weren’t aware of WINZ don’t pay then we are stuck with finding the money. I suppose worse comes to worse we increase our loan. Really can’t afford that but we need new glasses.
After our glasses appointment we have our prelim class to go to. So school is starting next week. I have allowed Kate’s concerns to get to me. She is terrified we won’t get the B+ average we need to get into Masters. I have tried to allay her fears about that. We are on track, if the worse comes to the worse we can do a MEd instead of an MA which only requires a B average. But she is terrified because we have all our eggs in this one basket, everything we are doing, everything we want to do in the future relies on us getting our Masters. The B+ we got in one of our papers last year has really thrown her, made her doubt we are really capable of doing this. We always joke we can’t really be multiple because everyone goes on about how intelligent multiples are, how all multiples are extra special intelligent, or extra special artistic. And we are so damn ordinary. And I am not saying I am stupid, I am not just in the league of extra specialness. And so I have allowed Kate’s worries to become my worries. I am more worried than excited to be back at school. I am hoping when I get there tomorrow and sit in the lecture theatre hearing the plans for the year I will find that usual excitement I feel about studying.
When the old ED group was running things here they would tell people that they weren’t interested in chick stuff and that is why they never bothered. It was true for them but since the change in the group occurred it isn’t true anymore. But we continue to say it, we aren’t interested in doing things, in girly things. We say this for the same reason I told someone last night that I am quite happy not having a whole lot of activities in my life. I say that it is a choice because it is less embarrassing to say it is because I have no money. Everything costs money and I think people with a reasonable income forget that. I don’t do courses because such things have fees. I don’t buy makeup or get manicures because you have to pay for them. Hell I don’t even go off on my bike for the day or overnight camping because I simply can’t afford the cost of the petrol. I try to do things that are either free or very very cheap. I go to the library and get books to read, I wander around the art gallery or museum. I wait for the movies I want to see to come out on DVD because if I plan it right it will cost me $3 not $12. I’ve learnt to live this way because I have to, because I have just enough money to live week to week, and also have to deal with outside expenses like bike maintenance and dealing with computer chairs that break. Being poor isn’t a crime but it is something that there is a lot of shame attached to. And it doesn’t help that people look down on others that have no money. When I say I am poor people tell me to get a job, which I suppose has some truth to it, but because I want a job that I will feel good about, one that is more than working in a store I have put that off, yes that is my choice, but I do believe a good one. Ideally it would have been better to do this education at a younger age so that this time in my life I would be qualified and working. But to be honest and blunt about it, I didn’t get that opportunity, I wasn’t encouraged or allowed to study, I wasn’t permitted to believe that was an option for me. So now when people say, why don’t you take a Tai Chi class, why don’t you go off for a weekend camping, why don’t you buy some decent clothes, why don’t you get out more I lie and say I am not interested in doing such things. It is easier to lie and say those things aren’t for me, that I am not interested in them than admit I would love to, to admit that I dream of doing such things but I have no money. And for me having no money means I have 10cents to my name and a list of bills I have to find money for by the end of month. I hope one day this will be different, I hope the plan we have will work out that we will get our degree and be able to find a job, one with a decent wage. I am not thinking of having a high income just an average one, enough to live on and be able to enjoy life on. One that doesn’t mean I have to plan for 6 months to have enough money to go away for a weekend, or go out for dinner. But for now I lie because of my own shame of being poor and the knowledge that other people really don’t seem to get what that means.
Isabella
Yesterday morning Sean rang, too damn early, to say he was in Sydney so there won’t be any therapy today. Seems his son was in an accident so he flew over to be with him. That sound serious so I have no idea when I will have therapy again. The timing as usual sucks, since Bob is off for the next 3 weeks as well. But hey, we will cope, we always do.
Valentine’s Day this year seems to be bugging me. I have in the past never really given a shit about it. But this year, I suppose because there are people, or have been people in my life that I should feel that “romantic” connection to but it has never worked today reminds me of what I have not got. (now there’s a badly structured sentence) Now I don’t want roses and chocolates, I’m not that type of person. But I would have liked, it would be nice to have a connection with someone that is acknowledged on a day when those sort of things are acknowledged. This isn’t going to happen and there is a bit of sadness about that.
We had to deal with a lot of bureaucracy yesterday. First was the course approval for University which actually wasn’t that bad. The official day to do this is on Friday, but we managed to get all done yesterday and minus any crowds so we are quite pleased about that. Then I had to deal with WINZ and StudyLink. The WINZ side was trying to get a loan from them to get new glasses, basically they are suppose to give you the money and then they recoup it from your benefit every week. So it isn’t like they are just giving me the money but it is still like pulling teeth. I have to go back on Monday with a quote and my bank statement. And then it was to StudyLink about my student loan. Man that’s turned into a Event. I applied for it over the phone and then got this strange letter about weekly costs, and because I am only getting my fees paid for the weekly costs don’t apply to me. I rang and told a woman this and she said no that’s fine it’s down as 0 a week. No problem, I tried to explain to her the letter said my loan couldn’t be processed until I gave my weekly costs. She brushed me off. Two weeks later my contract still hadn’t arrived so I went into StudyLink. So at StudyLink I informed the receptionist person about this and she said no it’s fine, but when I told her I still didn’t have my contract she looked up my details on the computer to find my loan was in hold because I hadn’t supplied my weekly costs. She ended up talking to someone else about it and it was all very earnest. Basically it turns out that both supervisors don’t have a clue what’s gone wrong and I have been told to wait a week to see if they can sort it out and if my contract hasn’t arrived in a week to come back in..,.arghh. Then it was back to the University to see Disability Services about my ID card. They can give us a new one without us having to deal with being photographed. It still causes too much panic and since there is a simple way around it why not take it. The meeting went well although I had to wait 30 minutes. It wasn’t too bad, gave me some time to regenerate after all the running around dealing with official people. We also ended up talking about Workbridge and the way they treated me last year. The disability woman was horrified but not shocked. Workbridge has such a bad name, and is having yet another shake up. They always have these shake ups and then it reverts back to the way it always is. Anyway she said she would contact them on my behalf. This may mean that I get my grant for a laptop, although I am not holding my breath on that one.
I started this entry thinking I might write about some of the crappy stuff but it seems we aren’t in the right head place for that.
-Isabella
Am I the only person that can see her changing her fucking story every five minutes when someone calls her on shit? Just like JM, but fuck yeah they are different people and I am going to be the next fucking Pope. Yes I’m pissed. I’m pissed at lying slimy people, I’m pissed at people that don’t take fucking responsibility, and I’m pissed at myself for not doing what everyone else here says to do and just step the fuck away from the lying bitch.
August
My mother rang last night and we talked a little about the bike rally. I have to say it was very pleasing to hear the surprise in her voice about being left out of the loop in some big events in our life. Anyway we were talking about the state of the roads, and how shocking highway one is compared to the pig route. And man did she go off; it’s the main highway what did I expect, I can’t expect that the roads will be perfect just for my liking, if the pig route is so great then why do people still die on it, the government isn’t made of money, you don’t hear people in cars complaining about it. She ranted at me for a few minutes. I don’t know if something just fired in her brain to make her so angry and defensive or there was some problem about me complaining about the road. Who knows with my mother, but it was so weird, and more than a little amusing.
God I must be bored I am writing such short and pointless entries.
-BloodsKiss