shtuff
Firstly, blogging when you don't own your own camera sucks.
Rightyo, now that I've gotten that off my chest, I can talk about other stuff. I'm listening to an audio book called "Germaine Greer, Untamed Shrew" in the car at the moment. I get about a 25 minute snippet on the way to work in the morning, and 15 minutes on the way home, and incidental doses of the narrator's voice in between.
I never knew much about Greer except that she's a feminist icon, and well known for being enormously opinionated. And loud. This is always a good start, I think. It's something of a biography - but apparently it's less of a biography of Greer and more a biography of her book The Female Eunuch. I'm only about 1/4 of the way through it, but it's somewhat confronting for me in that the author's description of Greer reminds me eerily of a friend to whom I used to be very close, and only talk to these days if we happen to be at the same social occasion (which happens very rarely, as we live in different cities). I'm interested, wanting to know more about this woman, but not sure how willing I am to have old painful memories and feelings forcibly unearthed.
Life is good. I'm starting my internship and feel absolutely wonderful about it. Still. I thought for a while that I'd never get there. But here I am, pulling out my degree paperwork and my passport and other ID, ready to have it all sent off to the ACT Board of Psychologists.
I'm knitting socks. I always get the urge to knit them as the weather starts to get cool in the evenings and mornings, and I stare wistfully into my sock drawer wishing that the 4 pairs of handknitted ones would just... you know... magically multiply. What utter luxury soft woolly knitted sockies are. Yum.
Mmm. Pass the wine. I feel winter coming on. *purr*
