Put a cravat on it

STOP! The list and links on this post are now over at put a cravat on it: the list, which will be regularly updated. This article will no longer be updated. Please update your bookmarks accordingly!

Richard Armitage, in a motherfucking cravat!, as Mr. Thornton in NORTH AND SOUTH.
Richard Armitage, in a motherfucking cravat!, as Mr. Thornton in NORTH AND SOUTH.

Dear Internet,
A couple of years ago, my friend Matt (apparently astounded at my knowledge of British television) said half seriously/half jokingly that if he ever wanted to know what British TV shows to watch, he’d have to just read my Twitter feed.  He then suggested I should put together a list of all recommended shows to point people to so they can get in on the action rather than combing through my copious tweets. On a snowy day this past January, I did exactly that. I called it telly watching: a guide to uk tv & radio and it took me forever to put together and it is no where near complete. Or even started for that matter – it’s not even a dust mote of a dent in my ever growing list.
Last night on Twitter, a conversation broke out about several period, mainly British, shows which ended up as a recommendations engine powered by librarians. The problem with this, as you might have guessed, is how much sheer knowledge of British / period film / TV series existed between us all. So I thought I would draw up a list as methadone until the next season of Downton / Miss Fisher / Sherlock start.
The list is in no particular order, mainly British period pieces up to the early ’60s with primarily strong female leads. I KNOW I am missing a lot, so if you feel there is an absolute MUST HAVE, let me know via email or comments and I’ll update the list! Due to sheer volume, I left out movies and every incarnation of Dickens/Austen/Bronte and others. Everything below is either a mini series or a regular series. One day there may be a movie version of the list — maybe.
Show name links take you to information about the show. I checked all three main US streaming sites — but be warned! Some of the shows are not available for free as part of Amazon Prime OR on regular Hulu. If you end up paying for season pass or buying Hulu Plus — don’t say I did not warn you. Acorn.TV is a streaming service that allows you to watch as a channel on the Roku or online. If you’re a big fan of Britishisms, it’s absurdly cheap ($30/year!) and packed with a mighty list of things not available anywhere. Some shows are exclusive to some specific stations, like Parade’s End on HBO, and since those shows are available streaming to subscribers, I added those too.
Shows that are not streaming in the US (such as Breathless and Up The Women), I kept because they fall into the genre and are available off the back of the truck. Please do not ask me to get shows for you or where to find them. I’m only letting you know they are available for you to find.
Updated: December 6, 2014 Total: 107

Maybe now I should go finish the telly watching: a guide to uk tv & radio guide?
x0x0,
Lisa
P.S. I get a lot of questions on where I find out about all of my Britishisms – other than the usual internets chatter, I follow the following blogs: Digital Spy, Telly Visions, Tellyspotting, TVWise, Radio Times, and BBC History Extra.
P.P.S Updated at 12:07 PM and added nearly a dozen more shows.
P.P.P.S. Updated 1/4/2014 with another dozen shows.
P.P.P.P.S Updated 5/30/2014 with 30 more shows.

This day in Lisa-Universe:

“Do you have the balls to wear it?”

View of Edinburgh from the castle, 2006
Dear Internet,
I am feeling out of sorts today primarily due to the bloodwolves have started sniffing around House Rabey, coupled with work pressure as this is the last week before the end of the semester. I have also been doing a lot of writing for work and profesh related things, so I need a break from looking at a computer screen for awhile. I thought instead of writing, I’d offer up more images from my grand adventures across the seas. As always, you can find more at this collection on Flickr.
Basílica de la Sagrada Família, Barcelona, 2004
Basildon Park (Netherfield in Pride and Prejudice 2005), England, 2008.
Vatican Museum, Vatican City, Italy, 2005.
Paris, May 2010
Pimp your kot!, Brussels 2010
“Do you have the balls to wear it?”, Edinburgh 2006
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe:

“There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.”

cmmrb get together, august 2013.
cmmrb get together, august 2013.
L-R Back row: Me, Sarah, Carolyn, Julie, Beth, Kristin
Front: Val
Missing: Anna, Sarah, Amanda, Kristi, Anne

Dear Internet,
It began a few years back when several of us were planning to attend C2E2, looking for hotel roommates to split the bill and then we started collecting other lost souls along the way. In the years hence, we’ve morphed into this incredible collection of women that have become my sisters who are not my sisters.
Our main online meeting place is Facebook. For months when I had been thinking about leaving social media, I was having a hard time reconciling leaving them — because I couldn’t. It would be awful, like my soul was getting ripped in two. But there are some decisions that have to be made, some that are painful to make. I knew Facebook and other online areas were giving me a lot of grief as time sucks and wastes of space. I had to make a choice and deactivating my account on Facebook was what needed to happen.
Every single one of those ladies rallied with me, emailed/texted me to make sure I was okay.  I found myself missing them a lot more, in the safe space we head provided for ourselves for dishing everything from our lives to harmless gossip about our stories, as the days went on. I found myself wanting to confide in them everything that has been going on, but couldn’t. I am not ready to activate my regular Facebook account, and truthfully, I don’t think I’ll be in that space for a long time. While I have been corresponding with them individually, I needed their love as a whole fill in the rough edges and comfort the difficult days.
I just needed them. Together, within arms length for me to love.
Beth twisted my arm to come back, even under my seekret Facebook account, which is what I did. A sudden sense of relief and happiness that I never knew was apparently hovering near the top, came over me once I saw all their shiny faces together in one spot. I almost started crying at my desk.
I am never leaving them again.
x0x0,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2008

I am concealing many things; that is what a lady does

MissFisher
Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries

Dear Internet,
I love Sundays.
This is the day I give myself complete freedom to do whatever I want. Sleep in late, read the paper in full, don’t get out of my jimjams, read all day in bed, mainline TV shows, bake all the things, take a two hour bath, or write the great Canadian-American novel; doesn’t matter. Sunday is the day that I do all, some, or none of those things. Sunday is the day for me.
This morning I woke with a purpose and the dreams of my sleep still vivid (but now fuzzy as the day has progressed). By noon, the bed linens had been the changed, the dog had been walked, several loads of laundry were completed, and TheHusband was in the process of making his chili for our consumption later. I had declared this to be a day of “reading::writing,” which apparently meant I was going to mainline Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries all day long. This turned out to be a very fine idea, indeed.
I first came across Miss Fisher on Acorn TV. If you are a fan of British or British-esque television series, serials, and movies, hie thee to their website and sign up for their streaming services, which are ungodly cheap of $30 a year. Yes, that’s right — $30 for an entire year of Britishisms. Acorn TV is available as a channel on Roku and can also be watched on your computer/tablet. Acorn is the company that produces many (if not most) of the Britishisms DVDs that are made available via PBS, so the company is legit. While their streaming catalog is small, it is often mighty, and routinely updated.
[According to Acorn TV, they are going to start streaming seasons two of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries in January. Since Netflix picked up the show almost a year after Acorn TV had it for season one, this might be a good time to sign up!]
So let us hurry back to Miss Fisher for we must not keep her waiting.
The premise is this: Honorable Phryne Fisher, she who is named after an ancient Greek courtesan, returns to 1920s Melbourne after years away. Rich, beautiful, young, and clever, Miss Fisher has seen a thing or two of the world and decides that her next calling in life is to be a lady detective. The first episode, Cocaine Blues, deals with a murder, cocaine ring, and an illegal abortionist.  Series one follows the trail of the books and series two is apparently based on original to the show work.
Most who fall in love with the series do so for varied number of reasons: the costuming (bloody hell, her frocks!), the time period, the location, Miss Fisher’s general bad assery, and the murder mysteries are not spoon fed to the viewers. For me, there are a couple of things about this series that stand out, namely the subjects and topics that even by 21st century tastes could be construed as being provocative: Education, abortion, women’s rights,  worker’s rights, family planning,  slavery, adoption, religion, and the list goes on. These are very big topics to tackle, and the show has done them with grace and tact. It is not sensationalized or feels phony as there is a level of understatement that cannot be missed about the problems and issues that wrapped up 1920s Melbourne.
Some of the critiques of Miss Fisher, the books and the television show, stem from the unlikelihood of her “modern sensibilities and mannerisms” would be real in the 1920s, which means someone has not been paying attention to history. Much of the women’s rights movement began in that era and Miss Fisher’s seemingly flippant devil may care attitude and sexuality are right in line with the period.

My sins are too many and varied to mention, and frankly I intend to continue sinning so I won’t waste your time.Miss Phryne Fisher, S1 Ep9 Queen of the Flowers

And that is perhaps why I fell so deep and hard for this show – Miss Fisher is a strong role model breaking with gendered traditions to live the life she feels best suits her. She does not have misguided notions of marriage, family, or love. She takes lovers with the same ease I use picking out what pair of Chucks I’m going to wear and makes it clear to them she’s not the type of women to be committed. She makes a fabulous aunt and ward, but would never dream of being a mother. She bucks against the traditions of ladies etiquette, deportment, and social graces by finding them damning and of ill use in her modern world but is still skilled enough to use them when needed. Instead, she becomes a Renaissance woman in the purest sense of the word: She speaks several languages, learns how to protect herself with martial arts, can tango as well as juggle balls. She’s lived a paupers life and a rich life, she’s traveled extensively, she was an artists model and worked in the circus. She can pick locks and fly an airplane. She is kind, generous, and she chooses and creates her urban family of misfits who are fiercely loyal to her.
Miss Phryne Fisher sets to prove a woman can and should have it all but she does it with an elegance and grace many of us in this modern world, I myself am highly guilty of this, lack. There is a ring of criticism that Miss Fisher falls into the camp of “she’s-too-perfect-itis” and while I can see the value of that criticism, I think the writers have done well with giving Miss Fisher backstories to illustrate she is not so perfect after all.
Because Miss Fisher becoming the new hotness, I’ve collected some worthy links to the TV series, books, and other interests to get you started:

If you’re a fan of mysteries and looking for something to take the Downton edge off, I would highly implore you to check out Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries post haste!
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2012, 1998

Collectioun of Cunnynge Curioustes December 7, 2013

Johann Georg Hainz's Cabinet of Curiosities, circa 1666. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Johann Georg Hainz’s Cabinet of Curiosities, circa 1666. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

During the Renaissance, cabinet of curiosities came into fashion as a collection of objects that would often defy classification. As a precursor to the modern museum, the cabinet referred to room(s), not actual furniture, of things that piqued the owners interest and would be collected and displayed in an aesthetically pleasing manner. Collectioun of Cunnynge Curioustes is my 21st century interpretation of that idea.
Dear Internet,
I was thinking the other day with using only one post on the landing page and the titles are almost never indicators of what I am writing about, it would be a good idea to pull together a list of the top tags of topics I cover. Which you can now see in the right hand side and the list is long.

Reading

11093962
13 Little Blue Envelopes by  Maureen Johnson
(Amazon | WorldCat | GoodReads | LibraryThing)
Status: Finished
I need to admit I am a huge fan of Maureen Johnson’s Twitter, but had not, until this point, read any of her books. When this came along as a freebie on Kindle as a promotion to reel you in for one of her newer titles, I grabbed it. I admittedly rarely dip into YA, so this seemed like a good gateway drug.
Erm.
Not terribly sure what I read but I’m having a hard time reconciling the erudite, witty, and hilarious MJ could write such a bland book. There is no character development, no setting, no plot movement – it’s just all action. Ginger follows these steps to get to this point. The problem is the underlying premise of the book is about the growth of Ginger when her favorite aunt dies, because who else would push her to developing into something that was not just a dependable, reliable old hag. But you don’t really see any growth going on with Ginger as she flits about Europe chasing after her dead aunt.
A couple of other reviewers pointed out some major flaws of the book, such as the Mysterious Parents who apparently had zero problem letting Ging flitter her way across Europe with not a single contact to them. In fact, we never even meet the parents The second criticism has to do with the money spent by Ginger, given to her by her Aunt, which was such an exact number, £1826, that the travelling she does, even on the cheap, is not necessarily going to cover it all. Even more importantly when she has to give £500 away and ends up being charged £500 for a weeks room / board while in Amsterdam. She’s apparently crossed EU several times, via plane and train, ate, and got rooming for under £800? There is suspending belief and there is being so fucking arbitrary it’s kind of ridiculous.
I’ll give ole MJ another go a later time, but overall the only positive thing about this book is that I finished it in 1.5 hours.
Watching

Weekly watching: Reign, DraculaProject Runway All-Stars, Breathless, AtlantisMasters of SexElementary, Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Sleepy Hollow, Survivor,  Boardwalk Empire, Doc Martin, QIPeaky Blinders,  Sons of Anarchy,  The Vampire Diaries

Links

What have you read/watched/listened to this week?
x0x0,
lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe in: 1998

mondo bizarro

Pig, East Asian Museum, Bath, England, 2008.
Dear Internet,
Every week, like a dependable clock, I make it to Dr. P.’s office to talk about what is going on inside my head. Even if I do not feel like going, this is my weekly touchstone so I force myself to go because on occasion, a lot of occasions I should add, I am not a dependable narrator of my own life. I felt totally fine Thursday morning. A little manic in the brain, but nothing I felt like I could not handle. My plan was to wrestle over some ideas I had brought forth earlier, which we did, and then head on my merry little way to work for the day.
[It should be noted he tutted my fears of not having grown as a person. As he explained it, we will have similar feelings  at 15, 25, or 55. How we react with those feelings are the strength of what moves us forward as human beings.]
Instead  of taking the right fork off of Cascade Road to head to downtown, I took the fork to the left to head home. In the short drive from his office to that point, I had triggered myself into some kind of hyper mania mode in which I tried to drive 60 MPH on a residential street, Google a question on my phone, and make a phone call all at the same time. Coincidentally, none of the events are related to the other. Thankfully, I had caught myself right when this started, threw my phone down to the passenger foot well and put forth all of my effort into driving. My head had started pounding and I felt like I could not think behind the next breaths worth of words. I was snapping in and out of forgetfulness of what I needed to do (stop at the light, slow down, do not hit the car in front of you, put the phone down).
I needed to get home. Now.
Once I was safe, I called in sick to work with the complaint of a migraine which was not that far off from the truth. The spinning of thoughts and the need to do all the things at once can happen with the speed of a whirling dervish. At times, the  incredibly intense headaches start pulsating so hard, there have been occasions where I have felt faint or sick.
After coming home and unpacking my work stuff (God. What a waste of war paint.), I grabbed a big cup of tea, the heating blanket, took a Klonopin and read for most of the day in bed. I started and finished one book and put in another 100+ pages split between two others. I knew if I looked at any electronics, the mania would intensify. Case in point: I had nearly $500 in my fab.com cart with the intent of purchasing before realizing what I was doing  and putting away my iPad. Shopping, aimlessly shopping for no other reason then to get stuff and spending money, is another symptom of my mania.
As the afternoon ticked on and thanks to the Klonopin, my mania began to subside. I started feeling better, not immensely better, but better. The world started coming into focus a bit more, I did not feel like I could barely speak, and the steady stream of tea and print books filled in the missing bits of the puzzle.
The dog snoozed at my left hip, I dozed in and out of sleep myself and around 5PM, I was feeling strong enough to sort out some afternoon chores. If I could make it through those simple tasks (unload and load the dishwasher, wrap a few presents, get food stuffs ready for tomorrow), I could give myself permission to read, write, or do whatever for the rest of the evening.
Edited note: Morning interlude. Dinner last night was pizza, which I greedily consumed after eating Benadryl and Lactaid before the gooey cheese hit my mouth. An hour after dinner, while I was writing this, the Benadryl kicked in, coupled with the effects of the earlier taken Klonopin, I almost fell asleep with my hands still moving over the keyboard. I kissed TheHusband goodnight, who yelled as I left his office to not forget the bocce ball tournament in the morning with the ladies from the home (his joke on my age). I shuffled down to our bedroom, set the alarm for 6AM as I had to be at work at 7:30AM this morning, took my contacts out, set the heating blanket on 3, turned on Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, and was asleep before the blanket had warmed and the opening credits were done rolling.
I woke this morning on time and feeling fantastic. Not mania fantastic, just regular fantastic. But sleeping for nearly 10 hours, in a lovely drugged  effort that allows for no brain interruption can do that for you. I have been rebooted, for the moment.
I edited this piece before publishing to clean up the debris from the night before. Writing when I’m manic, even subdued, reads as if I am concocting my own language. Words are out of order, incorrectly used, or are missing altogether, punctuation has gone to the wayside, and my word retrieval is fucking awful.  When I am depressed, it is the complete opposite – suddenly I’m laying it thick like T.S. Eliot and Hemingway copulated and I am a product of that copulation.
Welcome to my inner world.
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe:

practical uses for a bidet

My impersonation of dramatic monologue, Trevi Fountain, Rome, 2005.
Dear Internet,
TheHusband and I opted to head out to dinner when we got out of work Wednesday night (“Jesus Lisa! Why must every outing turn into a trip to Target?”). Over our plates of meat (after our trip to Target AND Staples), we ended up having a good discussion on writing. He says this compulsion of mine to over share my self-absorption is cheapening my talent (“You’re not writing for meaning, you’re writing to fill the space”), which lead into a conversation about what writing means as a whole, what it means to me and what I want it to represent. TheHusband is obsessed with CBC’s Writers and Company podcast which he uses as his basis for everything and anything when it comes to writing. So he judges me, fairly or not, to the quality of those who came before me but on a much grander scale.
TARDIS! No, just a police info box, Royal Mile, Edinburgh 2006.
Unfair? It is my carrot to succeed. If HE thinks I can be as good as this person, then the world can grovel at my feet.
There are times when I am feeling choked upon the ground, unable to get out what it is I want to say in the manner that I need to say it. I’ve noticed the more stable I am feeling mentally, the less forthcoming the muse is. My purest power is when I’m manic, so it is a shame I cannot turn this disease on and off like a switch because if I could, I would make my life a whole lot easier.
Stonehenge, 2008.
Trying to balance my own mental disability without drugs while living a full life while then attempting to use said broken brain for MOAR work is exhausting. And taxing. But especially exhausting. But I feel, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, as this is my life line and I cannot let go.
I do agree that not every day is like sunshine and rainbows around here, but my argument is neither is life. To wish for everything to be perfection is ludicrous. I live and thrive in the chaos and uncertainty of what exists here in this space. But I know not everyone is in agreement, but it should be remembered I am here for me and not for them. The fact you are reading this is a delicious bonus.
Corfe Castle, Dorset, England, 2008.
As work is wrapping down for the semester before winter break, I’ve decided to make the next few days image heavy from pictures of my various romps around Europe while I get sorted on some kind of schedule and process for writing. A few days ago, I gave TheHusband a few short stories to edit which I heard some grumping about how much work said editing was going to take because the stories were that bad. It’s hard to swallow the imperfections, I want to believe everything is as it should be and just call it experimental. Rather, I will re-read the pieces, guffaw at the obvious problems and fix them.
In the interim, enjoy your trip to Scotland, France, England, Belgium, and the Netherlands.
One of the many roads into the Red Light District, Amsterdam, 5 AM. May 2010.
Pelgrom Bar, Antwerp is a pub/bar/restaurant located in a medieval cellar in the Old City. The entire ambiance was fabulous as the entire place was lit by candles. May 2010.
Hamish, the hairy coo. Highlands, Scotland, 2006.
Practical uses for a bidet while in Rome. 2005.
Marseille, 2004
Trinity College, Cambridge, England 2012.
xoxo,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe: 2008

þam þe hi ær ahte

Oseberg viking ship, taken by mararie in 2010. Courtesy of The Commons, Flickr.
Dear Internet,
For the more astute among you, you may recognize two things. The first being the title of this entry is in Old English (and roughly translates to “the one who owned it before”) and the second is the image for today is the Oseberg Viking longship, which dates back to 800 CE and is considered to be one of the most complete, if not best preserved, Viking longships ever discovered. The dragon’s head of the Oseberg longship is also one of the inspirations for my latest tattoo.
This longship has become so synonymous with Viking and Viking maritime way of life, any documentary or history show on Vikings will 99% of the time have some cut in shot of the ship or the presenter will be at the Viking Ship Museum, using the ship to illustrate their point of the moment no matter how tenuous because — Vikings!
Now, the Vikings didn’t speak Old English and the Anglo-Saxons weren’t Vikings and I am currently not learning Old Norse, but go with me here because there is a method to my madness.
(However, I am dipping my toes into learning Old English. And researching the hell out of Vikings, or anything beginning with the collapse of the Western Roman Empire in 476CE and ending at the beginning of the Renaissance, though I’ll squirm my way into that area on occasion. Once the world starts moving into the age of the Industrial Revolution and forward, my interest starts to wane and I get bored. What is this steam power nonsense?!)

The iconic helmet of Sutton Hoo at the British Museum.
The iconic helmet of Sutton Hoo at the British Museum.
Photo taken by me, May 2012.

The journey how this became my topic du jour is a zig zag walk. The facts are these: I always found history through primary school and my undergrad years to be dreadfully boring. It was stuffy, staid, and tired with old repetition of facts and figures, battles, dates, and names. There was no context and no story. I thought anyone studying history was insane because it seemed like a punishment, not something you would actually enjoy.
On the flip side, what appealed to me so much about English Literature was not just the stories themselves, but we were not just introduced to the writes, but also their lives, their cultures, their ways, and thus the story’s story. You got a feel for why someone wrote a certain thing, or the influence of another, or why this particularly symbolism was used. And of course the instructors have a hand in it too. My prof for Shakespeare had built a 1/16th (or was it 1/32?) replica of The Globe Theater. Reading about the groundlings, the actors, the playwrights, and the period itself was fine and dandy, but getting a glimpse to the world they lived in and seeing how it all came together in 3D and not some one dimensional picture that would not do it justice? You could almost smell the peanuts and the feel the sawdust beneath your feet.
Five or six years ago, during the beginning of my second masters degree, I was reading a book for one of my archival classes when topic of social history came up in the text. Realizing, for it never occurred to me the story’s story was actually social history, what that bit was changed everything. The bits and bobs that fill in the corners when facts and figures, battles, dates, and names are just not enough. The exciting tidbits and details that makes up our world. It had a name – social history.
Somewhere in this murky mess, I became intrigued with medieval life because it represented to me not only a 180 degree departure from my modern life but it was the dawn of when some really fucking cool things were beginning to happen. Socially, politically, economically, agriculturally — we start to see a big shift in how people work, live, fuck, and exist. And that’s exciting stuff! The more I read or watched on the topic, the more I became keen on honoring them in some fashion and by that it seemed to learn more about their world.
From reading about the medieval world, this lead me to the Anglo-Saxons, who historically always seem to cozied up with the Vikings. More digging into the Vikings came up with how amazing their world and empire was though it lasted such a short period of time. In less than 300 years, they established trade routes all over the fucking place that no one had even thought was possible at the time, they founded Russia, established Ireland, Iceland, Greenland, and gods knows where else. And then on to NORTH AMERICA multiple times. Yo Vinland, we’re coming for you. Holla!
It also seems wholly appropriate for my Viking dragon ouroboros tattoo — the Normans were several generations later Vikings who had integrated with native Merovingian society. The invasion of 1066 – they in fact had invaded themselves.
The Roman empire? Latin could take its lack of prepositions and eat it for they have nothing on the Vikings.
My current chief interest is perception and role of women during the Viking Age which runs roughly from 793 CE to 1066 CE. Though I will read anything and everything on the Viking Age that I can get my hands on, related to women or not.
There is also another tie in to all of this — my last name. Rabey is Old Norse and means “boundary settlement.” The first recorded use of it as a name dates back to 544CE. Now this is a bit hazy because the researcher who gave me this information made it pretty clear this use is in early medieval England, though it predates the Viking invasion by several hundred years. It IS, however, recorded in the Domesday Book from 1086CE. And interestingly this tiny bit of history, of me, connects me to a much larger world I never even knew existed until now.
So what am I going to do with all of this information? Reading (and watching) about Vikings, Anglo-Saxons, and the medieval world in general, whether non-fiction or fictional, has become my passion. I’m dipping into primary and secondary texts, loading up on sagas and chronicles until my eyes bleed. I’m also dancing around other periods, and inhaling knowledge everywhere I go. History! Is! Finally! Exciting!
I have been toying with using this material professionally, such as get a third (!) masters  but as my education has been so varied and non-linear, I would have to almost get a third bachelors to qualify for the masters program. Plus pick up a few languages, at least Latin, modern Swedish, and Old Norse with some French thrown in for good measure. There would be structure to the program, and I would not be all over the place as I am now, which for me is something I definitely need. But there is the time and the money  plus the cost of the program, plus living expenses, while not generating an income..I have the passion, but after being in academia for nearly a decade, and finally getting free, I am not sure I could do it all over again.
The other option is to write about it, something I have had on the back burner for a few years now. The seed of the idea is there, but I have not done anything with it.
Yet.
x0x0,
Lisa
P.S. Work has been a bit insane so I have not started the making happy project yet, so I’m opting to clean out my drafts in the interim until the timing is a bit better, which should be in the next few days.
P.P.S. I’m thinking of putting together a large resource guide on materials on what I’m reading relating to Vikings/Anglo-Saxons/medieval history. Once a librarian, ALWAYS a librarian.

This day in Lisa-Universe in: 2009

Happiness according to Cabin Pressure

The crew of Cabin Pressure.
The crew of Cabin Pressure.

Dear Internet,
As soon as my on making happy post went live, I got an almost immediate email response from my dear friend Beth that was nothing more than dialogue from an episode of Cabin Pressure. As some of you may know, I’m a huge fan of the radio series (as is Beth) and I have probably listened to it its entirety at least a half a dozen times. If the banter of Douglas and Martin, the goofiness of Arthur, and the ministrations of  top dog Carolyn don’t have you in stitches, then it is pretty clear we could never be friends.
 
MARTIN: And that’s enough to make you happy together, is it – your shared belief in the terrificness of you?
(Flight deck door opens.)
DOUGLAS: It’s not a bad start.
MARTIN: But does it make you happyTruly happy?
DOUGLAS: Oh, well, come on. No-one’s truly happy.
ARTHURI’m truly happy!
MARTIN: Oh God.
DOUGLAS: No, Arthur; you are cheery. No-one’s interested in the secret of true cheeriness.
ARTHUR: No, that’s not true. I’m fairly often just completely happy. Like, for instance, when you get into a bath quickly and it’s just the right temperature, and you go … (blissfully) … “Ohhhh!” I mean, no-one really gets any happier than that.
MARTIN: What a depressing thought.
ARTHUR: No! No, it’s not, though! Because those sort of things happen all the time, whereas you’re hardly ever – you know – blissfully happy with the love of your life in the moonlight; and when you are, you’re too busy worrying about it being over soon. Whereas the bath moments – there’s loads of those! Oh! Like when you realise your knuckles are ready for cracking.
DOUGLAS: What?!
(Arthur cracks his knuckles.)
DOUGLAS and MARTIN: Eurgh!
ARTHUR: See? I was happy then. Ooh – wait! I’ve got another one.
(Flight deck door closes as Arthur leaves.)
MARTIN: Did you order the motivational seminar by Forrest Gump?
(Flight deck door opens again.)
ARTHUR: Apples!
DOUGLAS: Oh, no! Please spare us the crisp crunch of the first bite of an apple.
ARTHUR: No, no, of course not. No-one really likes apples. That would be like liking … wood. No – I mean this.
(Sound of an apple repeatedly landing in Arthur’s hands.)
DOUGLAS: What?!
ARTHUR: This – tossing an apple from hand to hand. It just feels really nice. I could do it for hours. Try it.
(He tosses an apple to Douglas, who also starts tossing his from hand to hand.)
DOUGLAS (after a moment): You know, there is something rather pleasant about it.
MARTIN: Oh, for goodness’ sakes! I don’t believe it!
ARTHUR: Try it!
(He throws an apple to Martin, who joins in with the apple-tossing.)
ARTHUR (after a moment): See?!
MARTIN: Well, it’s … satisfying, but I wouldn’t say I was happy.
ARTHUR: Give it a bit longer.
(Flight deck door opens.)
CAROLYN: Good grief. The world’s least impressive troupe of jugglers. What on earth are you doing?
ARTHUR: Nothing!
MARTIN: Nothing.
(As the boys continue to toss their apples, Douglas begins to idly hum the tune of We’re Busy Doing Nothing.)
ARTHUR (loudly)That’s it!
(Martin cries out in surprise.)
MARTIN: Oh! Arthur, you made me drop my apple!
CAROLYN: Oh, Martin. Surely the only professional pilot who cannot successfully juggle one apple.
ARTHUR: That’s the tune, though!
(He gargles the beginning of the tune, still getting it wrong within a few notes.)
DOUGLAS: Oh!
(He starts to sing.)
DOUGLAS: ♪ We’re busy doing nothing, working the whole day through … ♪
(Martin is already humming along by the second half of the phrase, and now joins in the singing.)
DOUGLAS and MARTIN: ♪ Trying to find lots of things not to do … ♪
(Carolyn joins in.)
DOUGLASMARTIN and CAROLYN: ♪ We’re busy going nowhere. Isn’t it just a crime? ♪
(And now Arthur joins in – somewhat discordantly – for the last line.)
THE WHOLE CREW: ♪ We’d like to be unhappy but we never do have the time! ♪
(They all laugh.)
 
x0x0,
Lisa

This day in Lisa-Universe:

on making happy

Medieval Angry Birds, Add MS 42130, f. 145r; via The British Library
Medieval Angry Birds, Add MS 42130, f. 145r; via The British Library

Dear Internet,
Now that my challenge for November of writing every day is over, I decided to start setting additional monthly challenges for myself to see how I will fare with those. For the month of December I decided I will attempt to spend most of my writing time on working out what it means to be happy, which I am sure you will agree, is no small feat. Philosophers have spent lifetimes decoding what the simple phrase “being happy” means and there is almost never any universal agreement. While I do not think I will have it figured out in 30 days, I do want to make an honest stab at what decoding it for myself entails with pure intent, without guile, and without a handful of snark.
That last bit will be hardest to overcome, I am sure.
Lest you be afraid of my cynical heart of getting in the way, I will have some help. I will be using Gala Darling’s DARE/DREAM/DO email seminar which I bought back in October and have not started yet. I do not remember how I found Ms. Darling, but I have been enamoured with her site for quite some time and appreciate how much she posits that to be happy means work. Hard work. She is not shy on giving you straight forward advice either, which also seduced me to her.
As DARE/DREAM/DO was designed to be a one a day thing, I will  be tackling and writing each day individually. Since I am starting this a few days after the first of December, the DARE/DREAM/DO sequence will go over into early January.
Additionally, I will also be looking at techniques from Zen Habits. If you have been following along with my posts on minimal packing, a lot of my inspiration came from Leo Babauta. Lastly, I will be also incorporating any articles, posts, or bits that I have stumbled upon along the way and adding them into the mix.
Because I fear this will be a massive month of writing, as I also plan to do other writing on top the making happy challenge, if you’re interested in following along with me, add the Making Happy feed to your RSS reader or just click on the Making Happy tag to see what is going on and where I am at. And as always, if you have any suggestions for sites, articles, books, or something else entirely you think I should read/view/hear, please do not hesitate to get in touch.
I was partially inspired to shape this challenge by a recent blog post by Theodora Goss and wholly inspired by her entry title, because it was a kick in the pants reminder happiness does not just come to you, it has to be worked for and earned.

But I believe that happiness is different: it’s a day to day, minute by minute thing. Whether I am happy at any give moment can depend quite a lot on whether or not I am eating a cupcake. If I am eating a cupcake, I am happy. (Depending on the cupcake, of course. I mean, I’m picky.) Happiness does in fact depend on things outside ourselves, so to make ourselves happy, we need to change things outside ourselves. (At least, that’s a lot easier than just trying to be happy, which I think is a very hard thing to do. Make yourself be happy, try to produce an internal state of happiness without changing anything external . . . Much easier to buy a cupcake.) Theodora Goss

She then goes on to list the things, simple things really, on what makes her happy. After reading her post, I tried to come up with a list of things off the top of my head in the same vein and found myself struggling with that list, but here it is:

  • Really good, dark chocolate. Sometimes all I need is just a bite to satiate me and make me happy
  • A fancy bubble bath with good smelling soaps and a book to read while I soak
  • Watching my stock pile of Jane Austen and related movies. Fictional, influenced, blatant rip-off – doesn’t matter. My world always seems to be brighter when I spend a few hours with Jane.
  • Wearing something from my collection of BPAL scents. I have a few non-BPAL oils but BPAL almost always wins hands down for selection, price, and smell.
  • I can listen to Elbow‘s entire catalog on repeat forever and never get tired of Guy Garvey’s voice. May I present their rendition of Beyonce’s Independent Woman, as played out by kittens.
    [iframe width=”420″ height=”315″ src=”//www.youtube.com/embed/zSQDR1yF3uQ?rel=0″ frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen]
  • Listening to Cabin Pressure, as defined here.

Small list, but a good start.
It should be noted when I went through Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) training for my Borderline Personality Disorder, much of the training concentrates on the purpose of self-soothing techniques for when I go into crisis, of which much of that training seems I have misplaced over the last few years. So this is a good reminder to stockpile those skills because there will be a point in the future when I am in crisis again. But it is also good to have this list of happy making readily available not for when I’m in crisis, but a reminder of what makes me whole.
x0x0,
Lisa

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