Ghost Pops Before Bed Time

Help, internet, I'm busy and tired. I have lots of freelance work to do, my social life appears to be trying to make up for my entire adolescence all at once, and I'm having a really hard time staying awake for a normal number of hours per day. Apparently 9pm isn't bed time? I don't know. Stop telling me what to do. You're not the boss of me.

I'm sorry. Tired makes me sulky. It all feels rather too much like my days slumped over my desk in the library last year.

It's getting wintery, which is my current excuse for eating all the snacks all of the time, to the extent that even Dave, my buddy in low-blood-sugar-avoidance, laughs at my daily snack bag for work. Contrary to what he tells you, I am not eating 30 dried apricots a day. Firstly, I can't afford to eat 30 dried apricots a day, and secondly, it's not even properly winter yet. (Check back next month.)

But anyway, I have been doing some things. Here are some of those things.

I went to a genderfuckery party.

I have no idea what's going on here, but by the look on Ro's face, it's something scandalous.

We are manly heterosexual men and that makes us... confused?

Peanut Butter Dreaming on Such an Autumn Day

I had just started to settle into a routine where I was actually managing to work full-time and still do other stuff like go to gym and buy groceries and hang out with people. And I was getting paid! Not as much as a normal salary, but much more than I had any right to expect from my one day a week of paid work. I dreamt of a new duvet! Good peanut butter! Not crying over the water bill each month! Everything was going well.

But it turns out that was a little optimistic, because the Fundraising Place - the only people actually paying me - just cut my hours to... well, none. Until they need me again at some point in the vague future.

This is what I did not do when they told me, because unfortunately, the fact that they were my main source of income is my problem, not theirs.

Not that you can even get vegan ice cream here any more. NOW I FEEL WORSE.

So instead I acted like this was all totally fine, asked them to call me in for a few hours here and there if I could do anything, and walked home. Thus.

(I love you, tumblr.)

Which did give me the opportunity to do my obligatory privilege check. I'm glad to be in a position where I can afford to lose my main source of income and have it make me only sad, rather than, you know, homeless. But I think I'm still allowed to be a little sad.

Nevertheless, here are some things that are not sad!

L'Esprit Humaniste d'Escalier

"So, do you believe in anything?"

French has the lovely term "l'esprit d'escalier", which refers to that moment on your way down the stairs after an argument when you think, much too late, of the perfect comeback.

Dammit. (Source)

I didn't have an argument last night. It wasn't even much of a conversation. I ran into a former acquaintance from the church I went to in high school, and it took her about two minutes to ask if I was "plugged in" anywhere.*

So I said "No." and she said "No?" and I said "No." and she said "No?" and we did that for a while, until eventually she asked if I wasn't still going to my former church, and I explained that I wasn't because I'm not a Christian any more.

Or maybe I misspoke, because based on her face I might have accidentally told her I'd joined a prison gang. (I am a terrible mumbler.)

So Die Well With Some Good Distractions

And somehow, two blogless weeks just whizzed past me. Apparently that happens when you have to sit at desks all day and look serious.

I'm not good at looking serious.

The jobs are going well, although I am really not good at sitting at a desk for eight hours a day. I strongly suspect that no one is, which makes me question this whole capitalist system. I could at least use the ubiquitous excuse that "it pays the bills", except that it DOESN'T.

Still, the Fundraising Place pays me and the Food Place is interesting and I love everyone at the Health Place, so it could be much worse. I'm happy to be doing more or less what I want, and it means I don't spend my days sitting around in my pyjamas eating chocolate all day any more, so at least I'm saving money there (good chocolate is expensive, you guys).

I'm actually really happy right now. Desks and lack of stable income aside, things are going well. I'm trying new things and going out and listening to the new Alkaline Trio album and spending time with great friends, and I have enough freelance work to feel a little better about the lack of a salary.*

Linguisticali Working

Friends! Romans! Countrypeople! You are looking at -

No, wait.

You are now looking at a thrice-employed researcher! That's right - from next week, I'll have five whole days a week of work to do for three different organisations. And I'll be getting paid... for just over one of those days.

The Republic of Heaven

“He meant the Kingdom was over, the Kingdom of Heaven, it was all finished. We shouldn't live as if it mattered more than this life in this world, because where we are is always the most important place.... We have to be all those difficult things like cheerful and kind and curious and patient, and we've got to study and think and work hard, all of us, in all our different world, and then we'll build... The Republic of Heaven.”

- Philip Pullman, The Amber Spyglass

(Source)

The first few times I read His Dark Materials were in my Christian days, and as a result I (perhaps wilfully) missed out on the central humanist message. I reread the trilogy more recently, and the concept of the Republic of Heaven is so beautiful that it moved me to tears.* 

This Easter, I'm grateful for the freedom I've found. I'm grateful to be the subject of no kings or gods. I appreciate this life and this world and the people in it more now than I ever did before, and I'm proud to work towards building the Republic of Heaven.

*Or it would have done had I not already been sobbing because Philip Pullman hates happiness.

Latin Camp Vincit Omnia

LATIN CAMP!

When I was at university, I did a lot of Latin. It was cheaper than drugs, and I've never been very interested in drugs anyway. People would hear we had a Latin club and say "Oh, so you dance?

... No. That is quite a lot cooler than the Latin we did.

And now some of my best friends are my Latin friends. And we really are just about as nerdy as our shared hobby suggests.

Team Latin at Victor and Arlene's wedding, 2010.

The last time we went on Latin Camp was nearly three years ago, when Anne-Marie was adventuring in Japan and before Andrew and I moved to England. This was also back when we could all still remember our Latin well enough to illustrate Latin prepositions.

In aquam.

In aqua.

Picnicking prope rivum.

And then we got scrambled to the corners of the earth: Justin to Cape Town and me to York and Andrew to Oxford and Robyn to... Honeydew. And we forgot our Latin and things changed and life went on. But with four of our gang of five at last back in the same city, we decided it was time for Latin Camp: The Sequel.

A Very Pink House Birthday

This weekend was my birthday! I like being 24, because I prefer even numbers to odd, and I really like numbers where one digit divides exactly into the other. So all in all, a good age to be. I do feel like I should be more of a grown up than I am, so one day I'm totally going to learn to iron. I'll put it on my list of things to do before I'm 30.

Obviously, the only other things on my list are:

1. Be kind
2. Have fun

As it was also the birthday of two of my housemates and we only moved into the Pink House last month, we thought it would be a great idea to have a BirthdayBirthdayBirthdayHousewarming Party.

This, right here? This is the kind of thing I always do. I decide that throwing a party is the best and most exciting idea I've ever had! And it will be amazing! But then the party itself gets closer and closer, and the full weight of what I've done hits me.

I've invited PEOPLE. SO MANY PEOPLE. What if they get hungry? What will I feed them? What if there aren't enough drinks? What if no one can drive home? Can I just pile them all on the sofa? What if they all hate one another? What if they get bored? Seriously, will they be hungry? It'll be ALL MY FAULT.

So I gradually transition from "This is the best idea I've ever had!" to "This is the worst idea I've ever had!", and by the time the guests arrive I have to be dragged out from my hiding place behind the sofa to let them in.

A Week 2013

It's A Week!

My friend Chris has blogged about it here, but here's the general gist, according to the Facebook page:

The idea of ‘A’ Week is simple - to raise awareness of how many people are ‘Good without God[s]’ and don’t need religion to influence their lives.

So that's it in a nutshell. All you have to do if you want to take part is change your profile picture to an A for the week of the 17th to the 23rd of March.

These days, I hardly meet anyone who believes in a god, at least in the traditional sense. That said, I know that when I was a Christian, I remember finding atheists... unsettling. "Atheist" seemed like such a strong and scary word. It was one thing to be kind of fuzzy about religion - it was quite another to be that sure that there wasn't a god.

Obviously, I know better now. As do most people. But I think there's still something to be said for standing up fairly quietly and reminding people that atheists are actually just quite ordinary people whom you know. We're not amoral baby-eating monsters. We're your friends and family. (Hello!)

As Chris pointed out in his post, there's also the advantage of reminding socially isolated atheists that they're not on their own. There really is a world outside religion, and we're doing ok out here. (Hello!)

So this is me, letting Facebook know that I'm good without gods. I'm not by any means perfect, but I'm always learning, and I'm living my life as best I can.

Freelancing Woes

Internet, I'm sad. And when I'm sad, I like to tell you about it.

Freelancing is turning out to be not a lot like stock photos would have you believe. It's not all happy skinny white ladies in well-organised home offices.

"Look at me! My room is so colour coded and I'm so fulfilled!" (Source)

"I'm not even pretending to work!" (Source)

"This isn't even a job!" (Source)

Right now it's more like this.

(Source)