November: day 28

This evening

I didn't feel like leaving the house today to go to the two Interrobang events I had tickets for, but I'm pleased I did. Cheryl Strayed, the one I was looking forward to most, was great: she was warm and funny and wise, as expected, and the banter between her and facilitator Meghan Daum was entertaining.  

But I think I enjoyed the second event with The New Yorker copy editor Mary Norris - aka the Comma Queen - even more. She was delightful, and not just because she looked and sounded like a cross between Marilla from Anne of Green Gables and the granny from Loony Tunes.  

She talked about the joy of finding errors in copy and I nearly jumped up and yelled, "Yes! Yes!", but, being an introvert, I merely nodded my head in agreement. Anybody who follows me on Twitter will know picking up mistakes on The Age website is one of my favourite hobbies*. I think I'll have to buy her book, Between You & Me: Confessions of a Comma Queen, which has been described as a 'refoir' - a cross between a reference book and a memoir. 

A Twitter friend, Jess, also attended the Cheryl Strayed event, which was at the Athenaeum Theatre - a sizeable venue.  We bought our tickets separately, but ended up sitting in the same row about five seats apart!  

* Now I feel pressured to vigorously proofread this post, but I'm not going to because I'm too tired to bother or care too much if it isn't perfect**.

** I feel as if I should apologise for mentioning how tired I am so often. It's boring. Sorry.  

November: 23, 24 and 25

Street art in a city alley

Oops, so much for 30 posts in 30 days. I've been exhausted the past couple of days, so bed has come before blogging.

I'm going to two Interrobang  - A Festival of Questions events on Saturday - one is Why does 'i' come before 'e' except after 'c'? with Mary Norris, grammar guru from The New Yorker, and the other - which I'm especially looking forward to - is What is it to be wild? with Cheryl Strayed, the author of the memoir Wild and the woman behind the Dear Sugar podcast and column. 

I did my first reformer pilates class at the gym tonight. It was hard, but good hard. Most of my main muscle groups got a work out. I think they'll be sore tomorrow...

There's something very satisfying about going through the drawers of departed employees to find stationery. We've had a shortage of Post-It Notes, but I found a good stash yesterday. 

I'm going to Sydney!

I'm off to Sydney to see the Inky Fool! Just booked my ticket and flights before. I contemplated staying Saturday night as well to see Cheryl Strayed (author of the memoir Wild and writer of the Dear Sugar advice column on The Rumpus), but the return fare for the Sunday was significantly more expensive, and I'm supposed to be saving money for a trip to the UK with Luke in August. 

I'm still pretty excited about it though. I've never flown anywhere just for a day before. I must remember to take my copy of The Etymologicon with me in case I have an opportunity for Mark to sign it.  (Incidentally, Mark doesn't look the way I imagined. I expected an older, fusty man, perhaps with a bit of ear hair, but no.)

Speaking of Cheryl Strayed, when I read Wild on my Christmas holidays, I made a note of a quote from it that resonated with me and reminded me of the George Bernard Shaw quote in the sidebar of Gleeful, but I forgot to mention it. Now seems like the time to do bring it up.
  
Wild recounts the story of Cheryl's physically and emotionally gruelling solo trek of more than 1,000 miles up the west coast of the US four years after the death of her mother and breakdown of her marriage. She was a novice hiker lugging a pack almost as heavy as herself on long distances nearly every day for months, in ill-fitting boots that caused painful blisters and the loss of several toenails. Add to that the risks of encountering big cats and strange men and dealing with extreme weather (including snow)... Anyway, she wrote:

"In the moments among my various agonies, I noticed the beauty that surrounded me, the wonder of things both small and large: the colour of a desert flower that brushed against me on the trail or the grand sweep of the sky as the sun faded over the mountains."

Life wasn't meant to be easy...but it can also be delightful.


Fancy some cow facts?

Someone I follow on Twitter tweeted a link to a story on the Top 10 facts about cows. My favourites: 

• In Moscow circuses cows have been trained to play football. Circus cows! Playing football! 
• A group of 10 or more cows is called a 'flink'. 
• In 1983, a Czechoslovakian was refused Swedish citizenship because of his dislike of cowbells, which showed he hadn't assimilated successfully despite living there for 14 years. The Swedish citizenship forms must be quite a read.