wow! it worked!

Thursday, 7j helped me to fix my mp3 player. What was wrong with it? Well, it had come with a large number of preloaded songs that you couldn't erase, as it turned out, without reformatting. How many? I'm not exactly sure, but the darned thing definitely has more space than it ever did before. When we started out, I couldn't fit another CD on. After the evil songs were finally deleted, the player was more than half empty.

mrpet has also been helping out. He had many CDs worth of music that he had ripped for me on his laptop (my CD drive is temperamental and doesn't like to rip things) which he converted to two CDs worth of mp3 files, which I was able to easily load onto my laptop.

Now I can listen to whatever I want on the way to and from Maryland. As well as providing myself with peaceful Honey auditory space. Well, almost whatever I want - ripping CDs is still a problem, so I won't be able to bring my recent acquisitions on the player. My favorite CDs recently are some Putumayo Latin Lounge compilations. So smooth and sexy.

Tithe by Holly Black

This is yet another offering from the Life After Potter lists. Kaye has spent her life following her mom's band, dealing with her many men, and picking up after her. But when Kaye and her mother go "home" to her grandmother's house, things get a little weird. Then they get a lot weird. This book was great, and I can't wait to read the two sequels Black has out, Valiant and Ironside. Four stars - in other words, I would read it over and over, making little chuckling noises of glee.

Book note: This week, I have wanted some books that I knew the library wouldn't be getting enough to actually order them myself. Eek! I almost never do that. For those who are curious, the books are Vampires in Their Own Words by Michele Belanger and Spiritual Transformation Through BDSM edited by Sensuous Sadie. Both spur of the moment things, but I have been really In Budget for a month, and could actually afford them. Amazing.

Full Tilt: Ireland to India with a Bicycle by Dervla Murphy

This book is the memoir of a woman who bicycled alone from Ireland to India - in the 60s. She writes in the prologue that this had been her ambition since childhood, but that people had laughed at her when she told them her plans, so she simply stopped discussing them until ready to take the journey in her forties. It's very very difficult to imagine living through the dysentery, the multiple rape attempts, the heatstroke, the horrifying food, corrupt government officials, and everything else that she endured simply to be able to say, "I bicycled from Ireland to India! What did YOU do last year?" but we all have our unique forms of madness. If you are a fan of bikes, or travel stories written by women, this book is fun.
The one low note I did notice was a certain imperialism creeping in at times. The patronizing way she talks about the "dirty natives" bugged me after a while. Lady, not everybody has running water, electricity, and anti-lice medication. Seriously. Considering that at one point, one of her hostess discreetly took away the author's clothing to be BURNED, I doubt she was all that clean by the end of her journey. She also uses the expression "nigger brown," which, in addition to being racist even by the standards of the time, is also just not descriptive. People of African descent come in all colors, and I will forever be wondering what color she was actually referring to. Finally, whenever "the natives" are nice to her, she waxes poetic about how friendly and happy they are, despite abject poverty and extreme filth. Whenever they're nasty, or even just dismissive, she blames Western influence. She buys into the myth of the noble savage just a little too much, and doesn't seem to have an understanding that different cultures might have different beliefs about how you should treat strangers.
ETA: I wanted to mention here something I read in Possessing the Secret of Joy. Although I can't find the exact quote, the idea was, "They've turned us into slaves, taken away our history, killed us, subjected us to hideous torture and sexual abuse, and on top of all that, they have the gall to say that WE have the secret of joy??" I was reminded of that passage many times.

Possibly my single favorite bit was this:

"While the breakfast-water was boiling I was given my camel ride -- very short and unsweet. (1) The camel knelt down. (2) I sat on the saddle. (3) The camel stood up. (4) The camel took one step. (5) I fell off. Fortunately, this was exactly what the camel-owner had expected me to do, and he caught me half way to the ground." p 203

After the journey concluded, Ms. Murphy spent some time doing volunteer work in India, then flew home with the bike she had christened Roz in the seat next to her. She subsequently became a well-known travel writer. I recommend the book, despite its occaisionally colonial tone. Three stars.