1.09 I Am Astounded

He reads Ray Bradbury.



He reads Ray Bradbury!

1.08 Out to Dinner

The food was passable, I suppose. Not that I paid much attention. Chase was, to begin with, an absolute prat. After a few minutes of attempted conversation, in which the words "hot" and "chick" must have been uttered more than seven times, I retrieved my emergency corrective kit (paper, pen, RED pen). After an abortive attempt to illustrate just how abusive of grammar he was being, and how "like" should be used to draw a complete simile, how hanging participles made my teeth stand on edge, we happily diverted onto a nice subject.

Illuminated texts, gothic handwriting, and antique books, as forms of art. We were very engrossed, and I hardly noticed what I ordered or ate. It seemed to me then that behind his facade of idiocy and American-Fraternity style wit and grace there may actually lurk an interesting person.

Then, as an afterthought, when coffee arrived, he interrupted our conversation to apologetically pull a picture out of his bag. It was a sketch he'd done of my face and bust (Oh shoo, you perverted internet scum. Not in that way). Absolutely wonderful, for a sketch from memory. He really is quite talented. I felt very ashamed of myself; He is in a way open and honest and sincerely kind, while pursuing me with a stubborn indignance. I am there, accepting his attentions against my better judgement, while Cal sits unknowing in Melbourne.

I was intent on turning him down outright, taking my book, running; now I feel that I cannot. I came home earlier than I might have otherwise so that I can talk to Cal, think things out, and maybe push this confusing and arrestingly rude world away in favour of a book. Something light and calming, like "Suyemura, an anthropological look at a small Japanese village". I bought it from a secondhand bookstore a few years ago, and have never sat down to read it properly.

EDIT: Updated to correct errors. That man's making me make basic mistakes, now - it's intolerable. Additionally, I've included the picture he gave me.

1.07 Never Irritate an Archivist

I am finding it hard to recconcile myself with two actions I have taken in the recent past; I was stupid enough to abscond with a work book, and I was absent enough to reply to the comments earlier with a spelling error. I had to decline some irregular Greek verbs to deal with my frustration.

But, rest assured, the Braze-Wilde Project will proceed unhindered by the loss of what is little more than absolute tripe. I suppose that the collection of all these texts will result in a catalogue that the Alexandrian Library might turn green at the thought of, but why such absolute nonsense has to be included is beyond my comprehension.
I suppose I should simply trust to the power of a larger system than my singular brain, and know that it will be useful to someone, sometime.

The sky was blissfully cool today. Although I do miss the coffee and books that Melbourne kept me in blissfully unaware supply, I have to say that Canberra as a town is easier on the eyes. Not as many beautiful old buildings, of course, but it lacks the frantic pace of traffic. It lacks transferring between two trams, one train, and a bus to get from A to B. There is space, and silence, and air. Shops and buildings aren't scrambling over each other for space in remnants of the past, but are resting placidly in purpose-built structures. There is calm here, there is peace.

I might just be associating my personal preferences with the cities, though. A public servant's city contains admittedly more literacy and a more bookish society. Although a workmate passed on what is perhaps strange trivia; Canberra has the highest number of hardware stores per capita. I am unsure of what to make of this city, but it calms me.

There is a surpisingly large number of local artists, writers, and filmmakers. I suppose that with a large population of University graduates and students this should not be a surprise; I mustn't have thought very hard before I ventured outside.

I visited the ANU today, and saw some of the permanent installation art around the campus. Some of them are quite arresting, and so absorbed into the landscape that it seems natural. This entire city has been sculpted, and while I can understand from motorists and homehowners a slight indignance regarding building regulations and transit routes, I am appreciating the atmosphere.

I wonder how much of our identity is tied into the buildings near or within which we live? Am I seeing this place as lush and relaxing merely because I lived within a contracted grid of grey and brown houses? Would a visitor to Melbourne see beauty in the old buildings rather than old run-down stores and mold problems?

I think that I am becoming an amateur philosopher in my apprehension over the weekend. I hardly ever throw myself into new situations like this. I have, though, complained that I only meet interesting people through organic and accidental ways; here is a person I have met by chance, and I should endeavour to make the most of this.

1.06 They Made Me Do It, Your Honour.

Cal is gloating. I have to go out. I have to talk to someone. He's not upset that Chase seems more interested than he should be, not at all. He's sitting in Melbourne with a cup of fresh coffee, nearly soiling himself in his mirth. I hope he does; that I tend to put people off of, well, talking, or listening, is not funny.

I hate going out. First one has to dress uncomfortably. Then there's transport to, transport home, chosing the food, forcing the conversation. Although I'm sure that if I managed to blunder along on the bus absently without him interrupting me we must share at least one interest. But still, I don't like going out. Even when I go out with friends, there's always someone being vulgar or splitting his infinitives at the table next to us.

I think that I'll just make sure I zip my corrective pens into the inner pocket of my purse, so I don't correct the menu and get us kicked out before we've sat down.

The nights have been blessfully cool, and I'm hoping that I never have to suffer another summer here. I might keep an eye out for cheap evaporative coolers.