Since I last wrote in my blog:
I turned 25... and 26.
I qualified as a librarian and completed a masters degree.
I started a job in a public library as a cataloguer. Stereotypically, we're even nerdier than your average librarian! We know the Dewey Decimal System intimately and speak in code, such as: "Would you add a 246 to that record?"
I like having a profession. It makes the "So, what do you do?" question easy to answer. When I was studying politics, people asked if I wanted to be the first female Prime Minister. When I was studying English Lit, people would ask if I wanted to write the Great Australian Novel. Now, as a librarian, I typically get two responses - "Oh, that's so cool! I wanted to be a librarian when I was little!" or people think it's boring, and we talk about something else.
I am still head over heels in love with swing dancing, and had a million swing dances with a million lovely leads, dancing to the music I love in
Melbourne,
Adelaide and
Hobart. This is me on my 26th birthday, dancing with my friend Phil.
I had a boyfriend for one year, hereby to be known as the biker. It was a good year. I plan to be over him soon.
I read some fantastic books. Of particular note are:
In cold blood by Truman Capote. Capote made me empathise with a cold blooded killer. An incredible book.
The autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X and Alex Haley. I am absolutely fascinated by the man. Lindy Hopper, small-time crim, drug addict, Black Muslim. He knew he destined to die young.
The complete Maus by Art Spiegelman. Art Spiegelman's father's story of surviving the Holocaust, with Jews represented as mice and Germans as cats.
Brave new world by Aldous Huxley. A classic. Reminiscent of
1984. Written in 1932, it remains fresh, relevant, and as scary as ever.
Breath by Tim Winton. I think it can safely be called a Great Australian Novel. It's about risk, passion, and masculinity. I couldn't stop reading it.
The Spare Room by Helen Garner. I love the domestic, everyday nature of her fiction writing. As always, I can't help but read her 'fiction' as autobiographical. I hope the dodgy cancer clinic man gets the karma that is coming to him.
The Great Gatsby: a graphic adaptation by Nikki Greenberg. I read Fitzgerald's version as a teenager, and didn't really get it. Greenberg's adaptation helps, and I adore the way she visualises it.
Naked by David Sedaris. How is it that I have only discovered this irreverent, witty writer this year??
Princesses and pornstars by Emily Maguire. I think it's an important, grounded postfeminist text.
The collected Dorothy Parker by Dorothey "Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses" Parker. I love her.
I watched every single episode of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Even season seven. The only saving grace of that series was the Anya episode where she sings. I'm now making my way through
The Gilmore Girls (I love all the film and literary references). And I am crushing on both Bret and Jermaine from
Flight of the Conchords.
First Tuesday Book Club is about the only show I watch on the tele.
I am more positive about the world under Rudd and Obama's leadership.
I ride my shiny red bike everywhere.
I am comfortable in my body and like my curves.
I like my life. I go out a lot, and am less shy then I used to be. I blogged more back then when I was shyer. I needed it as a communication outlet.
I think I'm ready to write again. I hope so.
