Slow Going

I’m back in Canterbury now, in my new house. New to me that is, not new build. All on my lonesome (not that that’s much of a change to back in Salford, even when my brother’s home too). I don’t know why moving is so exhausting – it’s not like I have to do much. I think it’s just a mental thing, especially since I’d never seen this house before and I didn’t know how to judge it. But it’s really very nice, and an insurmountable improvement on the year before last. There’s no TV and we don’t have the internet quite sorted out yet, so the house has been very quiet. Except for the different house sounds. They made me a little nervous. That, and the landlady who was a little... overbearing. Don’t get me wrong, she was pleasant, but I really only needed to know how the boiler worked and where the mains were; yet she proceeded to locate every single thing in the house and demonstrate how to lock the door. Please, love, give me a break. Anyway, after she left, and my dad helped me unpack some things before he left himself, it was just up to me to adjust. I lay on my new bed and started to read Richard Lewis’ autobiography. I got roughly 30 pages in before I fell asleep. I’m such a bad reader. Yet, I realised in those 30 pages that his writing style is just so similar to my own – conversational, for lack of a better word. And his mentality isn’t too far off my own either. If such a thing as a kindred spirit exists: he’s mine (or one of mine – I wouldn’t want to make that exclusive). Oh, if I were born in a different time and place...

That’s not really even one of the books on my reading list – it’s just for my own interest. Today I woke up early (relative to when I have been getting up) due to my crashing out so early the night before. Headed out to get a few groceries without a meal plan of any sort, so it’s just cupboard stuff and freezeable items. They’ll get used eventually. And then for lack of any other ideas, I finally picked up one of my books for researching my special project. This particular book caused me one hell of a crisis when I found it online. It’s Larissa Petrillo’s “Being Lakota: Identity and Tradition on PineRidge Reservation”. I had said for years beforehand how if I were to become a professional anthropologist, I would want to work with the Lakota of Pine Ridge on issues of identity – so to find that it had been done already was crushing. As an anthropologist, you really do have to stake your claim to ‘your people’. I was slightly wrong though, as this book is a case study/life history and focuses more on the Sun Dance, touching on feminist issues. Not exactly what I had in mind. What did I have in mind? I’m not exactly sure, it’s very vague. I clearly haven’t done near enough research into this. I’m such a fail academic. It doesn’t help that reading sends me to sleep. Why can’t every source of knowledge be in documentary form??

1 chapter down (I’m already a few chapters in, thankfully) and I gave up. I wanted to head up to campus. This house is further out from the centre than I’m used to – about a 20 minute walk, which isn’t too bad, but wait until we get to the middle of winter. I suddenly noticed how much of an inner-city girl I must be, with the pace I was walking compared to everyone else, and the lack of attention I was really giving to anything around me. It’s just an effective way of getting from A to B as far as I’m concerned. I wonder if that ruins the ambience of this quaint little city that so many tourists come to see. I’d forgotten about them: traffic! I didn’t do anything interesting once I got to campus. Just found out the module codes so that I can take Spanish (still don’t have a timetable btw), and then went to the library to use the internet. The lobby’s changed a fair bit – for some reason I didn’t have to scan my ID to get in, but the turnstile things were still there. Figure that out as we go. I used the coffee machine in Essentials on my way back to try and address my current grogginess, and had the manager [I think] stand pretty much over my shoulder, asking “is it any good?” – I don’t know, I’ve not got it yet! He asked because the machine was new; well then you’d better hope it’s good, it cost more than the old one.

Canterbury: off the highstreet, leading to the cathedral.

From the blog "Let's Visit"

Well, right now I’m sat at my new desk just finishing up my day. If only I had more to do/prepare. It’s not my fault anymore – I’m waiting on other people. I’ve just read a little more tonight, trying to narrow down what exactly to do with identity I want to study. In the vague sense that my ideas exist right now, it’s to do with how people accept their identity. How they relate to being what they are. Where do I even begin? That’s internal, and I can only objectively research the outward expression. Tricky. I’ll have it sorted in a couple of weeks, ready to speak to my supervisor (though I already asked for her advice, with no reply). Then just to get on with the actual work. Once I’m putting things down on paper [well... screen] I’ll be happier.

Time for some more Prince of Pain memoirs. Good night x

(P.S. I wrote this Thursday – had to wait to post it. I wonder what I’ll do/did do on Friday?)