Simple Pleasure #3: Thrift Shops

When I was a little girl, we didn't have a lot of money. But my Mama did what she could to make the most of what we had. In fact, my mum had an organic garden (still does) and compost before it suddenly became fashionable and mainstream! But we used to visit a lot of second hand shops for our clothes. I remember that at St Paul's, our local church where I had my Brownies meetings, there was a second-hand-shop at the back of the church hall. I remember all of the clothing items were organized into cardboard boxes and labelled at the front. There were even things like corsets! I used to hate going there. As I got older, I began to appreciate that second hand shops can be a wealth of treasures. And now, thrift shopping is one of my favorite things to do.

Perhaps it's the "thrill of the hunt", or perhaps it's the feeling that it's a bit like when you are little and pretending to be hunting for treasure. And I have found some excellent treasures in my time. Most of the time, as you can imagine, I browse for second hand books. My favorite second hand book place is St Christopher's. It's neat because they have everything laid out on trestle tables, the prices are very affordable and you can get some great finds there, everything from really old editions of Penguin paperbacks, to magazines, to near-new releases. A few months ago I managed to pick up a recently released Jodi Picoult that was selling in the bookshops for $34.95. At St. Chris's I bought it for $12.

Other favorite "hunting grounds" include SaveMart, which is predominantly second-hand clothes and proceeds benefit the Child Cancer Foundation. A friend of mine managed to pick up an Armani suit in good nick in the designer section (where you do have to pay a bit more but it's still good value) for $100! When I was losing weight and transitioning through sizes I went there to pick up a whole heap of good quality, inexpensive shirts and jeans. I also love going to the Dog Watch and Cats Protection League charity stores. A lot of their goods are extremely inexpensive, but I always give them extra. If something is $3, I'll give them a $5 note because I know it's going towards a good cause. At the Dog Watch shop quite often they 'dog sit' an adorable West Highland Terrier called Oliver who loves having his belly rubbed.

I think that even if I were a millionaire I would still do the thrift-store thing. Partly because so many of the thrift stores actually benefit charities, and partly because that thrill of a cheap bargain is kind of ingrained in me! I think it's genetic. :)

Fighting the Black Dog

Today was an interesting day for me.
Yesterday I had a really wonderful, action-packed day and when I woke up this morning I felt dreadful. I felt the claws of depression tightening around me. I've had a bout of depression for about a month or so now, partly due to stress at university and work. Now that the stress is off I think the depression is starting to try and take hold. But what did I do? I acknowledged it. I said, 'okay, today's not so good mood-wise. I can ride this out'. And I did. That in itself was a triumph for me. There have been times with my condition where I haven't been able to do that, where it has suffocated me and I have felt helpless. It was much worse when I was younger and didn't have such a great doctor. Back then I was being medicated but there was no follow-up care. I was also made to feel that I was a second-class citizen. The situation seemed hopeless. When I was first diagnosed back in 1999, I lost all of my friends. Their parents wanted them to keep away from me, afraid they would 'catch' depression. And I was bitter for some time over that because for that past year I was having to keep everyone else happy. My best friend at the time was having issues because her parents wouldn't allow her to sit her exams (weird but whatever), another friend was having issues with her stepfather and had to live with us for a while. Another friend lost a grandmother, my best friend lost her grandfather, and the friend who lost the grandmother also ended up getting pregnant. And every five minutes it was, "help me, Rainbow, what do I do?" And when I needed help they were gone.

Things are so much better now. The more you talk to people the more you realise that depression affects so many people and that the stigma is slowly starting to wear off. Now people are more aware that teens suffer from depression too- that it's not just a case of teens being in a funk, that there are genuine cases of depression.

I think one of the most interesting things for me is that even though today I was feeling very depressed and trying to keep on top of the depression, I knew that I had people that loved me and that my life was still good. Being able to rationalise and compartmentalise the depression has meant that I can still lead a full and healthy life. I am looking forward to finishing this semester at the end of the week so I can start to get back into healthy eating and exercising again, which I have put off because of work and university commitments and stress, because I know that they both help me to ward off severe depression and make me feel so much better.

If you are out there and suffering depression right now- you are not alone. I have lived to tell the tale many times over. The best thing you can do is to TALK about it. Find a friendly ear and just let it all out. I also find that when I have really bad days, even if I don't feel like it, I will set myself small, achievable goals. Maybe I decide to get all the recycling done that day. Perhaps I do something I've been meaning to do on my 'to-do' list. If things are really severe, in the past I have made an effort to do very small things, things that sometimes end up not being done when you are sunk deep down in depression. Sometimes, that can just be making sure you get out of bed and have a shower. Because when you are deep down in depression, just doing those things are particularly difficult. Lately, when things have been bad with me I have had to have the goal of turning up to all of my classes in a day!

But tomorrow is another day, and I will take it as it comes. It is cliched,but true.

The Cat Who Walked Alone

This little sweetie is my Hazel. AKA Fuzzbutt, Butt-Butt, Maomao and Pusska!
This weekend she is being a wee bit of a diva. You see her 'daddy' is not home to play with her and shower her with attention so yours truly is having to be both mummy and daddy. She was fine yesterday but today she's been a nightmare. It's been wet and rainy for the past week. She will go out and then come back in and I'll dry her off with a towel (which she loves) but I think all of this rain is causing a little bit of cabin fever on her part. Today, every time I stepped into the kitchen she miaowed for food even though her bowl was full. I heated a mince pie for lunch, she started screaming at me, wanting some, and then waited patiently at my feet for a bite (which she never got). My parents came over for a coffee and after mum and dad paid her some more attention she finally settled down and went to sleep!

I complain, but I do love her. She came to us as a stray, skinny with worms. When we couldn't track down her owners we made the decision to keep her. We've never regretted that decision. She is so incredibly intelligent, affectionate and sweet. And she came to us as a complete package- she was de-sexed and toilet trained to boot! We do spoil her, but The Man is a cat lover like myself and for years he had been dying to have a cat of his own but couldn't while he was flatting. Now that we live together it's the perfect situation and she walked into our lives and changed them forever.

Laugh Every Day

"Laugh every day" is pretty much my motto. If I can't find anything funny in a day, I'll actively seek it out. Usually something like a tortoise with bad breath is enough to just ease the tension! And when I say it, I really mean it (about laughing every day, not about tortoises with bad breath, although I do mean that too). I've learned through the years that sometimes there's not a heck of a lot to laugh about in life and that you have to make the best of a bad situation. Sometimes, being able to change your circumstances can be out of your control but the one thing you can do is change your mood.

My mum is a prime example. She has been plagued by terrible health for many years and a few years ago she wound up in the emergency room with respiratory problems as a consequence of a really bad chest cold. She was on a nebulizer in the emergency room but was still able to laugh and joke with a particularly sassy and fun South African nurse. Maybe it's the British in her, the whole, "keep calm and carry on" attitude. In fact, when you read diaries of people who were affected by the Blitz, they really DID make the best of a bad situation. I've read diaries and letters where people have been in the underground stations, and it was a lot of people in a terribly frightening situation making the best of it, sharing food, cups of tea, stories, looking after each other and one another's children.

In my case, yesterday I even laughed at my appalling essay effort. It's taken me two weeks and a lot of sleepless nights to get anything together remotely resembling a 3,000 word argument. Add to that stress from the cutbacks on campus which are affecting me both as a student and as a staff member, as well as The Man being a staff member two, and the fact I have a minor bout of depression and it's been hell. But I had to laugh when describing my argument to The Man. I said;

"Well, first it starts with: "I'm going to talk about France and England and their Reformations. Paragraph about France! Something vaguely related to France! Insert quote from crusty old historian here! Well, Henry did something somewhat related...Yay! Henry! Back to France! Insert random fact here! More quotes!"

You get the picture. I had to laugh otherwise I would cry. We talk so much about happiness and how to get it, but resilience in times of great stress is just as important.

Waiting for the Weekend

Today was a bit of a turning point in terms of life at the moment. The past two weeks I have been basically a slave to this darn Reformation essay. It's been the most difficult experience I've had in the entirety of my academic career. On Monday I had made a strategic plan of how to cope with the current situation: finish collating my notes on Monday, print them out on Tuesday, do 1000 words on Tuesday, 1000 on Wednesday, 1000 and the bibliography on Thursday. If on any of those days I felt particularly ambitious and on a roll I might do a bit extra.
So there I was this morning in the computer labs at university when I suddenly double checked the essay question. It said; "Why was religious change followed by civil war in France but not in England?" Oh crap. I had focused much of my research on England but not France. I felt my bowels turn to water and desperately wanted to cry. Instead I reigned it in and in a last ditch attempt I went to the University library, thinking, ok, knowing my luck there won't be any books to help me in the Three Day Loan section. But I trudged to the relevant section...and there in front of me were two books on Reformation France that I hadn't seen since the start of the course. Grabbing them I actually did a victory dance that was half Snoopy Dance, half back spasm. And since it was only about 10:30am at that stage, I photocopied the relevant parts I needed and then I put the books back in the 3 day loans in case somebody else was like me and desperately needed them.

The new research will help a great deal, considering one of the books is one which Dr J. uses on a regular basis and endorses. I think I will take tonight off though. I've spent most of the day sleeping because the past two days I have had crippling migraines and exhaustion. And then I got an email today asking me to confirm that I have all the prerequisites to graduate. I can't deal with that right now. Besides, I've decided to wait and graduate in April 2011 instead of at the end of the year. No biggie.

I am sorely looking forward to the end of all of this. I have a combination of nervous exhaustion, stress from my studies, stress from all of the changes happening around campus that have threatened my job, jobs of some of my friends and is threatening The Man's job as well. I cannot wait to just hand this God forsaken essay in. I think I'll sleep for much of the weekend, punctuated with dinner with my parents and coffee with a good friend of mine. The Man and I are thinking of getting away overnight somewhere nice, just to get out of the city and have a change of pace. We both need it.

Simple Pleasure #2: Date Scones

My mum is a baking whizz. Sadly, the baking gene that my mother and grandmother possess...has skipped a generation. The Man can bake, but doesn't bake as much as he'd like to. When I was a kid, I took my mum's baking ability for granted because instead of store-bought we always had baked. But let's face it- there's nothing like home-baked goodies.
My mum will regularly have lots of delicious baking when we come around to visit, bless her. Good for the soul but not so great for the waistline! The other day we popped around and she already had the oven going, making an apple crumble for dessert. Now, when I have read a magazine that has recipes in it, I always pass it over to her when I am finished. And she stumbled across a new recipe for date scones that she hadn't tried. She said to me and The Man, "feel like date scones?" and as quick as a wink she was in the kitchen, whipping up a batch and in fifteen minutes' time we were savouring the delights of date scones.

I LOVE date scones. The stickiness and sweetness of the dates means you don't have to add any extra sugar to the mixture. But you cannot have them cold, oh no. They must be either straight from the oven with a bit of butter or warmed up in the microwave. It's hard for me to describe for my American friends what scones are, and I won't put a recipe up because there are just so many on the internet. But they are delightful. I also love my mum's pumpkin scones, which are always made out of necessity when her pumpkin crop gets out of hand- at last count her crop had 21 pumpkins on it, so I'm guessing that very soon we'll have a batch of scones. Lovely!

Close to (Academic) Freedom

It's Monday afternoon here, and thankfully I am making inroads on the research. I have one more book to look through and then I can begin writing tomorrow. I figure I'll do 1500 words tomorrow, 1500 on Wednesday and be able to hand it in on Thursday, effectively meaning that on Friday, my day off, I won't have to make a trip into uni to hand it in.
At least that's the plan...

It's not going to be a work of art. It's not even going to be a piece of academic brilliance. But I have to hand something in. I've had a constant headache all day and I put this down to my brain saying; "full! no more!" I've been stress eating chocolate chip cookies like it's nobody's business. I am sincerely looking forward to having my life back shortly. And at least next semester I get to spend all of my classes in the 20th century. What frustrates me is that I have lived and breathed Tudor history for 10 years but even I was stumped this time. And if I'm stumped....that's bad. I wonder if my fellow classmates are having as much difficulty as I am. It's been a hard road, that's for sure. I feel guilty because I've only been to two lectures in the past two weeks and the classes are nearly over. EEK.

It's been a challenge. But I guess that challenges are par for the course and I'm glad in a way that I have had a challenge and haven't just sailed through these years. I know, strange. But it will all be okay in the end. I'm close to freedom!

Simple Pleasure #1: Reading

I don't think it's any great surprise to my friends that I am a huge bookworm. When I went through some of my worst bouts of depression I always knew I was coming out the other side when I could read a book in its entirety. I may, in fact, have a bit of a problem with books...I tend to hoard them, buying them up to save 'for later'. Well, that 'for later' pile has about 200 books! My 'to be read' pile on my bedside table has multiplied into two piles and is threatening to topple over. Reading is one of the simple pleasures in my life. After all, I've been reading since I was three years old so it has become as natural as breathing!

I read mysteries, I read non-fiction, memoirs, supernatural fiction, historical fiction, historical non-fiction, thrillers, contemporary fiction. The only thing I really don't tend to touch with a bargepole is Science Fiction or overly complex military history. I make it a rule that every single day, regardless of how busy and frazzled I am, I will read something for pleasure for at least 10 minutes. It's my 'me' time. Coming into winter here I am looking forward to my end of semester break when it's cold and rainy outside and I can snuggle up with some great books. There have been a few books that have made a real impact upon me, despite the zillions of books I have read in the past. Here are a few of my treasured favorites:

Hons and Rebels by Jessica Mitford: This is a memoir by Jessica Mitford, a woman born into a family of 5 sisters and one brother, closely related to Winston Churchill. Living a restricted, elite life, the sisters all found themselves rebelling to an extent- Diana would first marry the heir to the Guiness dynasty before then marrying the leader of the British Union of Fascists, Unity was obsessed with Hitler and attempted suicide upon Britain's declaration of war against Germany, Deborah would go on to marry the Duke of Devonshire, the position held many years before by Georgiana Cavendish, relative of Princess Diana, and Nancy would be the most famous of all, writing satirical books and historical tomes. Jessica was considered the most rebellious, escaping to volunteer in the Spanish Civil War with her cousin, they married and lived a life of relative poverty as Communists before spending their time in the United States. This is a hilarious and provoking memoir of a woman who just didn't want to fit the mold of peerage darling and who experienced moments in history most of us never got to.

Love in a Cold Climate by Nancy Mitford: Nancy Mitford was incredibly intelligent and witty, a Francophile to the end of her days who lived in an unfulfilling romance for most of her days. This story is sassy, witty and partially auto-biographical, with wonderfully fleshed-out characters and a real sparkle to it. In addition she has created one of the most fabulously camp characters of all time. There is a wonderful BBC adaptation which combines both Love in a Cold Climate and its companion piece, Pursuit of Love, starring Rosamund Pike,which I heartily recommend to anyone if this novel takes your interest.

The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger: It's probably considered utterly cliched to have this in a list of favourite books, but for me it really is. I remember reading it for the first time in the autumn of the year I turned fifteen. I was disheartened by the world, annoyed, sick of being at an all girls' school with its cliques and bitchiness. And Holden Caulfield with his 'phonies' and his sojourn through New York City made complete sense to me. Incredible to think that it was banned at one stage!

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath: probably another cliche, but I read this in my senior year of college before I was diagnosed with depression. There was something of a dull thud of reality when I read this book, a knowing and a realisation...even though I didn't have the word 'depression' in my vernacular, I just knew that something wasn't right. Once, in class, the teacher made me read the part where Esther goes to her father's grave and talks about him not being there and I nearly cried on the spot...because I had been there. My father is not dead, but he may as well have been, given we are disconnected and I haven't seen him since I was six years old.

American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld: this is a strangely beautiful and compelling book. It chronicles the life and times of a woman who is to become the First Lady. Based primarily on Laura Bush, it also has a little bit of Camelot woven into it. It is so well-written that after a while you tend to forget about the parallels unless they are things that stare you right in the face. I think it is a celebration of how difficult it can be to be the President's wife, regardless of who you are.

Dear Harry

Dear Henry VIII,
I SO don't like you right now. Perhaps I should take the advice of an online friend and write in my essay that you were a peckerhead. I've checked Urban Dictionary. It has eight definitions. I'm sure you qualify for at least one of the definitions.

I don't like you because, unlike many of the other Reformations of the time, yours doesn't entirely make sense to me. OK, so Cat couldn't give you a living son and you were chasing tail and threw a tanty when Clement VII couldn't give you the annulment you wanted. But then you do very, very strange things. You follow Erasmian humanism, and you hate Luther but some of your ideas are downright Lutheran. Some are Calvinist. Some defy any real description. Some say you allowed The Thoms (Wolsey, Cranmer, Cromwell) to guide you like religious Jonas Brothers, but then we now have G.W. Bernard saying, "oh no, Harry knew what he was doing!" and other history stalwarts like Christopher Haigh going "boo! hiss! can't be true!"

I despair, Harry. I am unable to use my favorite female historians to prove my points in this essay because apparently they are too romantic and regurgitate facts. But at least they are readable! Some of the books I have had to scour from 1963 clearly plagiarise from one another! At least the new breed acknowledge their sources instead of sitting back in their comfy tweet jackets with the leather patches like the cat that ate the cream.

So I don't like you right now. In fact, I'd rather write about Anne's influence on reform than about your reformation. But I can't. I have to write about why your Reformation succeeded while France's failed.

I don't think i'll like you again until after I hand in this essay.

Keep on Keeping On

It is a cold autumn Saturday morning and I should be huddled in bed, warm and cozy, maybe with a hot coffee, devouring The Girl Who Played with Fire. But alas, no. After I finish this entry I need to hunker down and do MORE research for one of my two final essays for my Semester 1 courses. I finished the research for my first essay on Thursday and mercifully had Friday off to relax and do laundry. I am absolutely mentally exhausted. I'm also battling a bit of depression, I suspect from the mental exhaustion. I attended only one lecture this previous week because I have been so bogged down with researching my essays! Normally, essays tend to be a doddle for me. Incredibly easy to research, easy to write. But this final essay for my Renaissance and Reformation Europe course is my Goliath. And I'm all out of rocks.

I have been living on vitamin water and convenience food lately. It's been terrible. I am looking forward to handing in my essays this week and then just collapsing on the Friday. After that, I have one more week of lectures, then a study break, then my two exams. I'm not worried about the exams at all. I tend to have a pretty zen attitude towards them: it is what it is. There is no point in ruminating about what you could have said or should have said while you're in there, what's done is done. No point hurriedly looking over your notes again an hour before the exam because by that stage what you know is all you are going to know. Most of my exams during my time at university have been of the essay variety. Normally it's something like 3-4 essay questions to answer in 3 hours. Only once was I spared, my advertising course had a final test in the last lecture of the course and all you had to do was answer multiple choice questions.

I have found this semester incredibly difficult. That's not to say I haven't enjoyed my classes- I have. I absolutely adore Dr J who is the lecturer for my R&R Europe course, and I respect him. I am frustrated that he doesn't so much like the newer books about the subject (there goes half my own personal library of books!), but I understand why. The lectures are fun and comprehensive...it's just this essay is REALLY doing my head in. But I will plough through, I have to. No point getting an extension just because I'm exhausted, no point getting marked down for handing it in late. I just have to do it.

And with that, I shall leave to a mountain of books....

So, this is a new beginning for me. I've mainly created this blog so that my new friends on Facebook can keep up with what's going on in my life. If anyone else is interested, well, that's a plus!

What can I tell you about myself? Well, I'm nearing my thirties and I'm in my last year of a Bachelor of Arts in History with a minor in Media and Communication Studies. Previously I studied for a bit towards a Bachelor of Teaching and Learning but found that teaching wasn't entirely for me. I then sort of drifted towards retail and definitely found it wasn't for me.

I also have battled with bouts of depression since I was 18 years old. It's taken that long for me to understand my condition and to be able to handle it when I have bouts of depression. I know that some people feel a bit squeamish about depression and don't know how to handle people who live with it on a daily basis. I'm here to talk about it openly because I want people to know, especially if they are battling with depression also, that sometimes in order to see a rainbow you have to wait through the rain. Hence my blog title. I also know how it feels to feel guilty about having depression. But a diabetic never feels guilty about their condition, they can't help it that their pancreas doesn't want to co-operate! It's the same for depression- I shouldn't feel guilty because my serotonin levels in my brain are making things go a bit kooky for a while. It took me a long time, a lot of acceptance and a really good doctor to make me see that.

I am a bit of a loner and have difficulty making friends. I put this down to years of relentless bullying in school for being 'weird' and bright. Now I embrace my kooky side and have managed to make a few very good friends who understand me. I find social events very stressful because I have trouble relating to people. I also suffered from social phobia for a while which tends to re-emerge when I'm particularly under stress.

I may sound a bit odd. And maybe to Joe Average, I am. But I am also a person with likes and dislikes, and even when my depression is bad there is still always something to laugh about or find beautiful in life. I think that's the key to enjoying life: the small things. Maybe it's that your regular coffee place gives you extra stamps on your rewards card because they know you, or the giggle of a child. Maybe it's the cat sleeping on your feet and purring happily. There is always something to look forward to and smile about. I'm hoping to capture some of those things in this blog and share them with you!