Time and Space Squid

What kind of science fiction makes a grown woman invest emotion in a genetically enhanced squid?

The book is called Time by Stephen Baxter, and it's about space squid. No joke. It's great.

This book is called Time. I'm only half-way through it, and already it's managed to walk through the whole future of humanity up to 10¹⁷⁰ (that's 170 extra zeros) years away, past when the only light in the sky is the brief flickers of matter as it passes through the event horizons of black holes. Of course this kind of time is incomprehensible, that's the whole point of the book. Does it make life any more precious, any more different? Is it comforting if you knew that your descendants would be there right up until everything has just, sort of, drifted away and died. Such a long time away that even the protons and neutrons have decayed? Sometimes life feels like a struggle for meaning, and it goes back to what I've always thought. That there is no "meaning" to it all, we just exist. Sorry, not sorry. Religious ideals and other spiritual callings have never cut it for me. They seem cowardly, giving importance where there isn't any. We just survive and reproduce and then our children survive and reproduce, and try not to mess up the planet on the way to eternity. You can spin it in that depressive way, but it's also awesome. I mean that by the definition of the word, inspiring awe. There's so much around us, and it's refreshing sometimes to be reminded how small we are. Because in 10¹⁷⁰ years, who's going to know about it? Scrap that, even in 200 years I'll have faded out of memory. I exist for myself, and for my loved ones. We can comfort each other in the emptiness.

I crocheted some space squid on their space rocket, too. The rocket is a christmas present for a not-quite 2-year-old. I'm planning to start him thinking about this stuff early. So he's prepared, you know?

Limpet x

Things I Want to Change About Myself

The 'S.S. Kate', because one of my pen friends is adorable.

This is a list! A short list of things I want to change about myself:

Mental:

Get off antidepressants

-it's time and I think I'm ready. If you guys want to hear more then let me know and I'll be open about everything.

Be able to code for simple physics

-it would make my job so much easier if I knew what physics would do before it did it!

Physical:

Cut my hair short?

-I've been almost sitting on it for years now and fancy a bit of a change

Have a six-pack (of abs, not beer!)

-I know it's there, just need to go the final push and lose the last centimeter

Give blood whenever I can

-this was important to me, but I keep making excuses

Get a tattoo

-it's my body and I want to make a mark on it

Stretch my ear lobes

-being brave and looking a little different

More piercings

-as above

There are many more 'physical' than 'mental' items which I know may seem shallow. But on the whole I'm happy with myself and doing well in the great ol' journey of life. I feel like it's just time to make my mental self image line up more with what the rest of the world sees. I couldn't tell you exactly what that is, but it involves not being a little girl any more. All a part of growing up I suppose.

Limpet x

Optics on the Surface of Mars

You know sometimes when I don't post for a while it's because I feel uninspired or I just haven't done much worthy of posting or there's so much going on in real life.

I just wanted to say that I am so happy. I'm doing my year in industry placement and I get to play with lasers and improve things that make an actual difference. My company has optical fibers on the surface of Mars for goodness sake, I'm doing real proper science!

I'm doing as well as humanly possible there, I love making my own experiments. I love talking to everyone from all different backgrounds and hearing how they got there. On Monday I'm going on a field trip to the National Physical Laboratory in London, and they're sending me on my own! I'm so looking forward to the future. Just a few short months at university afterwards and then I'm free!

I hope everything is hunky-dory with you too,

Limpet x

"It Takes Years to Develop a Personality."

Working in the pub last Friday afternoon, things got quite jolly. One of the regulars, a nice fellow called Jim, decided he was going to get into the Christmas spirit and drink Irish coffees. For some reason everyone joined in with him. So all the painters and decorators and plumbers that are usually downing beer were just sat at the end of the bar sipping from latte glasses. Don't get me wrong, they still had 7 or 8 of them, but the combination of whiskey and sugar and coffee really changed the usual atmosphere. Everyone had something good to say and I've never seen them more cheerful. It felt like Christmas! Even I was feeling tipsy by being around them.

Anyway, drunken cheerful Jim said something to me like "You're a really nice girl, Limpet. You've got a fun personality. It takes years to develop a personality, but you're cheeky and clever and it's good." Of course being in a pub I'm used to being flirted with 24/7, but this was different and once they'd all left it got me thinking.

It takes years to develop a personality.

I will admit that during 'The Bad Time' I sometimes felt like I wasn't my own person. I remembered being carefree and happy with myself when I was in school. Then after 'The Events' and having to take time out from university I was surrounded by a completely different group of people. This group were all at least 5 years older (from the kung fu club where I met my OH as well as others) and were settled in their jobs and lives. It felt almost like I was borrowing pieces of other people's personalities. I wasn't spending any time in my student house because nobody left their bedrooms and it was too isolating, so of course I felt like I was intruding in the house where I was staying. I spent months tiptoeing around not doing much with my days, waiting for my boyfriend to get home and not wanting to disturb his housemates. Going outside and meeting up with friends started to feel scary, which is partly the reason why I started doing so much crafting.

I digress, but Jim is right. It does take years to develop a personality. It's ok if you're not sure what kind of person you are when you start making your own way in the world. It's the experiences and how we deal with them that define us. I'll continue trying different things and keep doing the ones that I enjoy. My life will slowly build itself up around me as I slowly let go of those insecurities. And when my guard is down, the cheeky and clever Little Limpet that was hiding will shine out for everyone else to see.

Limpet x

Hepialus humuli

I was in the garden today, doing some sketching. I spotted something attached to the spider webs that cover this big wall of ivy we have, and it was a dead moth.

I feel affection towards moths; they're so fuzzy and cute. So I took him down and the naturalist in me took some pictures of him lying on the ivy leaf. He has one black eye and one white eye, and it's just his exoskeleton and bits of fluff and wings left.

Why is your eye white, little moth?

It reminds me of a time last July, when I'd first moved into the other house. I was sitting outside and I spotted something fluttering among all the overgrown vines on the ground. It was a big fluffy orange moth, and it was covered in ants. It kept trying to fly away but couldn't. Its wings weren't working, and every time it touched the ground again more ants would crawl onto it. I was filled with horror at what it must be like to be eaten alive, so I saved it. I coaxed it onto a big leaf, carried it to a safe place and squished all the ants. After that it just lay there, and died. It was a beautiful moth, but its wings were deformed and different shapes to each other. It's hard to describe what I felt then. I wanted the moth to survive over the ants so I killed them, and then the moth died anyway. The moth would probably have never survived, but I couldn't just watch it be eaten. I tried in vain at the time to try and find out what moth it was but couldn't because the wings weren't a normal shape. Months later I was flicking through a nature book in a charity shop and saw it. It was a ghost moth, Hepialus humuli!

It was a female ghost moth that I saw because she was bright yellow. They're called ghost moths because the wings of the male are pure white and he hovers, rising and falling, over low ground in his search for a female. I think the one I found today is most likely a common swift, which is in the same family as the ghost moth. He definitely has a similar look about him. In death, that is. I didn't get to meet this one when he was alive.

It makes me wonder: their lives are so short, but do they feel as long as ours? I just can't equate our long lifespan to the less than a year they get. Does a second feel like a minute to them? Do they even have a concept of time? Probably not. I suspect we humans are one of the few that have evolved a sense of our own existence, rather than the live-eat-breed-die that drives everything else. Does a moth ever feel it's coming near the end of its life? Does it ever think of all the little eggs it's laid? Or is it driven by pure instinct? It makes me sad to think of a life that's so easily taken. We don't have predators, we don't have to find our own food, we don't breed every year of our adult lives. In return we're left with such an abundance of free time that we don't know what to do with it so we invent philosophy and think there must be a meaning to it all. Maybe that's why seeing a dead moth brings such a feeling of insignificance to me. I get the same feeling from looking out at the cosmos.

We are all made of star stuff, moths and all.

Limpet x

S.A.D. but it's Alright

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say that, actually, I am okay. I'm going to be okay. Things are pretty good at the moment. Physics is going well- I've learned so much my brain feels like it's going to drop out. I'm trying to wrangle myself a job at a company that develops optical fibres on Mondays and Wednesdays since my days are free. And finally, it's nice to have money again! My pub work covers all the rent and food and stuff so I've got my student finance sitting pretty and untouched.

Yesterday I ordered a lamp with the power of a thousand suns that's supposed to help with seasonal depression. So when I have to be indoors at home studying, the light from that can gently warm my face and convince my body that it's summer! Yesterday I also organised a trip to see a school friend in London that I miss, and got back in touch with a few people.

The future is bright and all that, even if it doesn't feel like it sometimes.

Limpet x

S.A.D.

I'm starting to think I may have SAD- Seasonal Affective Disorder. It was around this time last year that I started to get really depressed, and this time there's no situational reason for it. I don't know what to do, I feel so terrible. Just crying for no reason and feeling useless and feeling like I have no friends and I'm somehow not good enough as a person. I can't keep myself busy enough to ignore it.

Ouch

At the pub, and I walk into the toilets. Like an unexpected slap in the face, my boyfriend's ex is looking at me with pure hatred in her eyes. I'm shocked; it's like I've walked into a physical barrier. My body's gone into fight or flight mode. I sidestep into the nearest cubicle. All the happy alcohol-and-friends feeling has leaked away and I'm conscious of my own heartbeat. I go to the loo and when I come out she's gone and left the pub and I feel like I've just avoided being stabbed or something.

There's nothing I can do, is there? It's too far gone to ever try and smooth things out between us. I've become someone's enemy. It's a difficult thought to stomach.

Musings, or the Long Debated "What Should This Blog Be About?"

I'm not very good at writing about myself; I'm not really self-centred enough. I wanted this blog to be about all the crafty things I'd made, to inspire people and show that it's easy to be a little creative. It was going to be focused on that, with maybe just a touch of my life thrown into the mix. I like a lot of the posts that I've written, but since I've been working two jobs I just haven't had the time for it. My style of writing for a lot of it is just not very... me, I suppose. I've been reading other similar blogs and just unconsciously copying mannerisms and ways of saying things, and I apologise if it's ever come across as "look at me, this is what I did." Maybe this blog will survive as something else now that I don't have an abundance of free time. Maybe a sort of diary blog, if anyone would be interested in that. Who knows? The future is mysterious and full of surprises. I won't delete any old posts, because I want to look back on it in the future and cringe at it all, like reading your 12 year old diary and realising how irritating you were.

Also, I finally figured out how to change my email address on Blogger so I can log in with my new phone and start posting again. Happy days!

I Can't Sleep

(This post is a sort of confessional word vomit, you have been warned.)

Hey there, internet.

I've been neglectful of you, as usual. But don't worry, I'm not going to parrot "apologies for the lack of post, I've been really busy, PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME I CAN CHANGE"-type stuff. We've all got lives and other things going on, so I know you'll forgive me.

Some Thoughts On Depression

This may be a little dark, I wrote it to try and explore my thoughts on a particularly bad day.

I still don't really know what depression is. I mean, I know what it is but I just don't know how or why it managed to creep up on me. I thought I was just lazy, initially. When my boyfriend left for work in the morning I'd just lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. It felt like I was punishing myself for not wanting to get up and do anything, by refusing to let myself enjoy not doing anything. I'd let myself get stuck in the guilty cycle of the procrastinator- not being able to let go of the thing you should be doing so your procrastination becomes guilty and impossible to enjoy.  I used to be able to drag myself out of that at the last minute and get my work done. It was always sloppy and I'd resent myself for not living up to my potential, but at least it'd be done and I could breathe for a little while. And then, one day, I started to let the deadlines come and go. I knew I probably wouldn't hand assignments in so I stopped picking them up. I let my record pick up zero after zero, and still I felt like it didn't matter. Who would notice? It's not like a friendly school teacher was going to pull me aside and say "I noticed you haven't been doing your work lately, is everything alright at home? Do you need some help?" And that's the thing, it was only me that was responsible for my failure.

I just wanted desperately for someone to see through my facade, to see that I did care deep down. I still don't know if anything would have pulled me out of that spiral of indifference, but it would involve people, I know that much. I feel like if someone, anyone, had looked me right in the eye and asked "Are you okay? You've not been yourself recently" then I would have broken down completely. I would have fallen to the floor and wailed as if everyone most important to me had died. Because I had lost a part of myself. I'd lost the quiet, geeky girl who loved to learn. She wanted to invent something important, to make the world a better place. Instead she'd found that physics was just an unfeeling string of numbers, and she herself was just an ID number in a computer system, only given value by how high her own numbers were. Her teachers and her parents had let her believe that she could do anything she wanted, that she was capable of anything.

The academic slump when you realise that compared to everyone around you're just mediocre really hurts. Maybe I just took it harder than most? I think I'd let it become too much a part of who I was. Maybe I'll find that lost girl some day, when I've sifted through my box of thoughts and pieced myself together again.

I think I'd better stop writing for now.