fahye: ([dw] scatter them across time and space)
We'll call this one The White Rabbit, or, Why I Am Not A Wizard.

I am trying to do this in vague order of age-at-reading. )
fahye: ([ss] but wild and whirling words)
Still technically hiatusing, but I took a break from study to jot down some thoughts.

~

I’ve just finished reading A Mother’s Disgrace by Robert Dessaix, whose writing I love not least because he’s like me in a number of ways: a rational aesthete, queer, and Australian. It’s that last one that I feel like talking about, because there are only a handful of Aussies on my friends list and I don’t think it’s apparent to the rest of you what kind of affect my location has on who I am aside from the inconvenience of the timezones.

So: a ramble. A musing. Something like that. Rather long. )
fahye: (breasts! breasts! breasts!)
(Do I get the Golden Emo award for using Tori Amos lyrics as a subject line? Do I? Do I?)

Anyway. Nny's been doing some interesting musing about bisexuality and the importance of gender, and what with the conservative Federal Government fucking us around as per usual I've been feeling a little self-reflective. No Big Profound Messages, just some stuff that's been floating around in my head as of late.

Which I'm sure not everyone is interested in, so I'll cut from here on in. )
fahye: (balance in all things)
I think the sky tonight was a dark shade of smokey denim that I have never seen before. It drifted into pale lamplight rags at the edges. No stars, but lovely.

I think I'm exactly where I should be at this point in my life. It's comforting.

I think I'm luckier than I know.
fahye: (red and you - floating in the summer sky)
I am not a huge one for self-reflection, generally. But Ji managed to pull some stuff out of me by asking the right question.

This will be of no interest to many people, I'm sure, but I feel I should make an effort to share this sort of thing more often. Because I very seldom open up. So. Throwing this out there, unlocked and unadorned.

what women want (ha ha) )
fahye: (Default)
My legs feel strange.

Apparently jogging and stretching does things to your muscles. I think my quads might actually be trying to muster forces and invade my knees. I don't know if this is a good thing or not.

But I'm getting more flexible - my palms will lie flat on the ground when I touch my toes again, which is something of a relief - and I'm having a surprising period of feeling quite good about my body. I don't talk about this much (read: at all) because normally it's not a big deal for me, I have the requisite amount of feminine insecurity but I do get along quite well with most parts of my body most of the time. (There's a Montague-Capulet size feud running between me and my thighs, but hey, that's normal.)

But yes. I'm feeling distinctly positive at the moment, which is a pleasant change. I'm 5'6 and weigh 60kg (132 pounds or so) and whilst I do have Slavic Hips Of Doom (that's what my parents get for naming me after a Norse fertility goddess. I suppose I'm lucky I don't have extra rows of breasts.) I also got a waist into the bargain, so I am unfashionably but not unpleasantly hourglass shaped.

Now all I need is for pale skin to come back into fashion. Who wants to start a petition?

~

OH OH OH. ON A LESS TEDIOUS SUBJECT. If anyone has any Anna Nalick music they'd care to throw my way, that would be dandy. I've found a couple of fanvids with her songs and am craving more. I have 'Catalyst' but would love 'Consider This' (such a Starbuck song) or anything else anyone has.

Or THIS song. Which, again, I only have in fanvid form, and it's damn catchy.
fahye: (let's act pretentious)
What's really quite bizarre is that the last three books I've read (or found myself in the middle of, as I seem pathologically unable to read one thing at a time, the affliction which is quite possibly responsible for my never being able to write one thing at a time) have contained the word solipsism, and I had never seen that word before in my life.

Don't get me wrong, I adore the word: I adored it when it first turned up in Orwell's 1984 and I adored the thrill of romance and clandestine intellectualism that it sparked when it was used in John Barth's Once Upon A Time in the context 'solipsism à deux', and by the time it appeared in shaping up, Robert Dessaix's essay on the nature of the adopted family, it was an old friend.

(After the fact definition: solipsism, to view the self as the only thing that is real, the only thing that can be verified, a quite literal retreat into and embrace of one's own inner reality)

It sounds vaguely geometrical, which the mathematician in me likes, and it's one of those hissing sibilant-ridden words - like insensate, another recent discovery - that I can happily imagine whistling off a snake-tongue. It would probably take Crowley three times as long as a human to say it, provided he was angry or drunk enough. The sound and shape of words means a lot to me. Cadence has long been a favourite, because not only does it sound musical, it has musical connotations. Twisty. I like it. If paradigm ended in -eem rather than -ime, phonetically speaking, I'd consider it quite perfect; shades of deem, old-fashioned and with Middle English roots, rather than the blatantly American dime. (Intellectual snobbery? Moi? As a random side note, I first encountered the word deem in a Disney movie, which probably says something telling but I'm too lazy to put the paradox together.) As the word stands it's too abrupt, for all I'm fond of the elusive nature of its definition.

(At this point I've worked out why I started writing this in the first place; not only to document one of those little coincidences that pop up from time to time, but to take my pretentious vocabulary out for a spin. I'm not taking any Arts subjects this semester and I'm beginning to feel a bit cramped. There are only so many opportunities for delicious words like juxtaposition, credo and inherent when one is writing about the mechanisms of leukemia on the genetic level or discussing adolescent psychology. All those wishing to abandon ship at this stage are free to do so. Don't trip over the giant sign proclaiming FAHYE'S PROCRASTINATION on your way out.)

For the tolerant, bored, or fond of semi-organised ramblings: onwards! )
fahye: (kill me now (sebastian))
Whoa.

As [livejournal.com profile] m_minna said: I hope it's a joke.

ETA: It isn't. But at least Indiana is a sensible state.

It stinks unpleasantly of The Handmaid's Tale to me. And Australia isn't much better; $3000 bonus if you pump out the kiddies, women! Who cares that $3000 isn't going to pay for jack shit once you've actually HAD the kid, and that you're then tied to at least eighteen years of financial burden, IF you decide to raise the child half-decently.

Oh, here we are - [livejournal.com profile] tapedeck reminded me of this.

Our patriotic duty )

I mean, my friends and I make jokes about the fact that not many of us want kids, so the few who do will have to have huge families to compensate, but jesus FUCK. This just makes me so angry. Are we building an army? I'm surprised he didn't slip in something about how the government would prefer it if women did their darnedest to produce sons, because nothing about this whole business has got anything to do with gender equality whatsoever. Three kids. Yeah. That's not going to put the SLIGHTEST dent in any woman's professional career. You bloody myopic dolt.

I've seen two teenage mothers - both of whom looked younger than me - in the past week. I just. How can this be a healthy thing for ANYONE involved? But that's veering off on a freedom-of-choice tangent, and I don't want to get started on that. I want to make lunch and watch some House and then do some research.

* Um. Replicating themselves? We appear to be steering into genetic cloning territory, here, though I think it's just Costello's poor grasp on basic biology.
fahye: ([dw] don't look away)
Rambling, mostly - cut so as not to bore most of you to tears. It's late, I'm tired and my thoughts are attempting to organise themselves and succeeding about as well as most of my organisational efforts usually do.

Author's notes? )

I'm not usually this boring and self-analytical and unmotivated.

Must be the weather.

*wilts*

For those of you not here for the teenage wangst, I'm going to shamelessly pimp a story of mine that was buried in the depths of my ficblog ages ago. Notable because it's one of the only times I've ever tried to tackle the Harry Potter fandom; mostly I just hover around, dip into the occasional fic, and hide in corners because it's so sodding huge.

As We Were - gen, post-war, Harry-centric. I wanted to play with the idea of the Time-Turner, which Rowling could do so much with and hasn't as yet. Addiction, Remus!tea, and coping with old memories and new wounds.

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