a wolf angel is not a good angel

It was around 10C outside and clear.

Thank you, National Climate Data and Information Archive.

On a major mailing list in my field, there has lately been a discussion about a paper some not-in-my-field people wrote about my field. Mostly there have been emails about how horrible an article it is, but a few defenses of the article, possibly all from the same person.

But just reading these emails — Usenet knows *nothing* about how to flame properly.

If I hadn’t started late, today would have been my last day of work; a few of us will be
staying later, but not many — no one in my building, even (the summer students are spread over a few buildings). (Obviously lots of other people will be in this building.)

Today my officemate gave me a CD of Hawaiian music (she’s studying in Hawaii, and knows how much I loved it when I was there).

It’s been an odd summer. I’m the only person who’s not in education/math, and though I learned much about it, I know also a lot went over my head. I didn’t, quite, fit. Everyone here is getting dissertation research; I’m getting a line on my CV so I can apply for fellowships. I don’t regret this; I’ll probably suggest it to people at Dullness U (who know about it, anyhow) and at Canada U, because it’s good money for 2 months. But still, I feel oddly like I’m looking at people here through a glass.

Tonight we are supposed to be going out, as a group. I missed the last one to speak to the landlord, and though I don’t really want to go to this one, either, I know I’ll enjoy it once I’m there. At least I hope I know that. I can always leave.

A Prayer for Owen Meany: John Irving
One of those books that always, always makes me cry.

Art & Lies: Jeanette Winterson
I’m not always so sure of her plots — of books written after this book, only one of her other books (Gut Symmetries) had a plot I engaged with (this one and most of her earlier books had plots, though were never plot-driven). But her writing is so luminous — someone once described it as “reading stained glass” — that the plots are almost superfluous.

Cat’s Eye: Margaret Atwood
I’ve been told this is one of those books only girls really get. Perhaps. I know a few exceptions to that rule. But it’s about the casual cruelties of young girls, and — I’m so bad at writing descriptions, really.

Don’t Ask Me Why: Tania Kindersley
Finally! A book that takes friendships as seriously as relationships (of the sexual variety).

Human Croquet: Kate Atkinson
Almost, but not quite, fantasy. A strange a beautiful book.

The Autobiography of Henry VII (with notes by his fool, Will Somers): Margaret George
I think I read this book when I was 12. before I learned about him in classes. It gives an entirely different perspective on Henry VIII, and no matter how much I have since learned about him, I still can’t help being sympathetic.

More will probably be added later.

It drives me crazy when friends say they will call and don’t. One in particular does. It drives me crazy. Don’t call; I don’t particularly mind that. But don’t say you will call, tonight!, and then not.

I can’t figure out why exactly it hurts, but it does.

Landlord came by tonight. He’s still here, in fact, fixing the dryer, or trying to.

He said he’d speak to the people upstairs, about the door they keep leaving open (it helps that the basement is full of water, almost certainly due to that), and also about the noise. It is, after all, in the lease: all activities of tenant . . . are to be conducted in a quiet, dignified manner so as not to annoy or disturb the owners or occupants of other neighboring premises.

With luck this will work. After all, the people upstairs know as well as I do that the rent for these apartments is at least 300$/month less than it would be in any comparable apartment. (I don’t quite get why the landlord does this. But I won’t complain.) It’s big, it’s in a nice neighbourhood, and the landlord is a reasonable guy. I’m still scared, but I’m hoping this works and it all goes away. Of course that’s what I hoped all this time before and it didn’t, but now at least the landlord knows.

I actually ate some dinner; if I’m not sick soon, this will have been a successful evening.

All of these are favourite *authors* more than books, though I’ve tried to choose my favourite of their books.

A Dark-Adapted Eye: Barbara Vine
I’m never sure which of her books I best like. They’re always a bit creepier than her Rendell books.

A Darker Place: Laurie R. King
A standalone from her two series (one a Sherlock Holmes story — I had to stop after about 3,a little bored of them, but I loved the first 2; the otherabout a lesbian detective in San Fransisco(currently on hiatus).She also has 2related books, Folly and something else; I don’t believe these are being expanded into a further series, but arevery good.This book (also the Sherlock Holmes/Mary Russell series) showcases her background in religion.

A Place of Execution: Val McDermid
Almost two novels at once. There’s not much I can say that doesn’t risk giving things away, but this deserves to be read by any fan of small-town murder in England stories.

A Sight for Sore Eyes: Ruth Rendell
One of her standalones (other than the Mallory series, I tend not to prefer series, in part because of the ‘never sure if they’ll be finished’ issue).

Mallory’s Oracle: Carol O’Connell
The first book in her altogether wonderful Mallory series. Read them in order, especially the first four. The new one is due in November, and I’ve heard suggestions it will may involve a character from her standalone, Judas Child (excellent and worth a read in itself). This is probably my favourite series going.

The Scold’s Bridle: Minette Walters
Although I think I was more scared by The Sculptress (the last paragraph, specifically, can still make me shiver), this is a better book. Her books are populated with odd characters, though they’re often somewhat off-balanced, as one characteristic is focussed on. This book capitalises on her characterisation, and brings in Shakespeare.

The Songcatcher: Sharyn McCrumb
This is the book where I first found out how people in Appalachia prefer having it pronounced. She has two series going, the one set in Appalachia and the other about an anthropologist (Elizabeth MacPherson). I’ve found no particular need to read them in order; they’re more recurring characters than anything else (the Elizabeth MacPherson books are more important to read in order, but not much). Don’t miss her sci-fi books: Bimbos of the Death Sun and Zombies of the Gene Pool. (Seriously.)

I do not know why I prefer female authors (all 6, since I’ll only count Rendell/Vine once), but I know I do. I tend to prefer British (3/6), also. I almost put Charles Mathes, but decided not to, for some reason I’m not sure about. His books are light and silly and rather fun; I look for them, but I don’t call them favourites.

Very few of the cogsci courses interest me. The ones that might all seem to conflict with courses in my department that interest me more. I feel, though, that I should be taking them. And I am right about that: I shouldn’t just take courses within my department. I’m trying to see what Library Science (or whatever it’s called here) has — my mother’s just finishing up her master’s in library science (back at Canada U — it was fun when we were both students there at the same time), and she’s told me enough about some of her courses that I’m intrigued.

Of course their page at my school makes my department’s page look informative.

My meeting with my advisor is next Tuesday morning. I really need to figure out about this soon. True, this is what he should be helping me with, but given how I’ve gotten most of my advice (from someone a year ahead, who got it from someone a year ahead of him, who got it from someone a year ahead of him, who got it from her advisor) I’m not feeling very confident. He’s newly grad advisor, he’s newly tenured, he has a year-old daughter, and his wife’s pregnant again. Though he got me 450$ to get to my conference in March (I also got money from the conference itself: the two put together almost covered both conferences I went to).

And then Wednesday I will drive home so that Thursday I can go with my family to Maine[1] — and hopefully see people Wed night. Beach again! I’m counting down. Even if a bunch of people I don’t want to see will be there — I don’t need to see them but once in a Thurs-Mon/Tues weekend, which is fine. It’s sad: A and I used to be very good friends, but as we grew up I realised I don’t actually like her. I’m sad that we’re not friends; or perhaps I’m sad that I don’t want to be her friend anyhow.

[1] Unless I need to come back to Dullness after Maine, in which case I will drive to Maine directly from here.

Got to bed at 10 last night. Which means that I woke up at 6 this morning, but that’s okay. I got in an hour of work before I left, then had coffee and OJ (I don’t even like to imagine how much money I spend on juice now, I think I go through 5 litres a week), and still got to work by 8:15. I am the queen of efficiency.

Well, not really, but for a briefperiod I can feel that way.

Yesterday was a field trip day at work (but way cooler than the other field trip we had, and not just because we went for (free!) ice cream after). I like field trips.

I’ve decided to hope that this whole depression thing is PMS. It’s not improbable. I get depressed before my period (but always forget about the correlation *while* I’m depressed). I’m due — well, I don’t know. I think around now. You’d think that after about 15 years of getting my period I would manage to remember when it’s due, but — I blame living with new people. I was perfectly regular at home: every other time my sister got her period, I got mine. If it’s PMS, there are, presumably, things I can do.[1]

[1] In theory there are things I can do even if it’s not, but I’ve tried enough of them to know they don’t work for me.

Landlord isn’t coming today, apparently. Which means I can’t go out with my coworkers tomorrow night, most likely. Damn.

Back to work. I got in my 35 hours for two weeks ago, now I’m working on last week. It’ll be nice when I’ve caught up. It’ll be even nicer when the paycheques start getting deposited.