Meteors And Asteroids

I'm part of a Women in Astronomy group that meets at one of the universities and does things like watch astronomy movies, look through telescopes, and have general discussions. We usually all bring a plate of food to share afterwards and just hang out. The nights are very informal, and they are a good chance to get together with like-minded people.

They’ve been talking about having monthly meetings, although it has been a bit sporadic. But I bet after the success of last night, we will meet much more regularly. A group of us met at the pub beforehand and had dinner. I was sitting next to a fifteen-year-old girl who was telling me about how she goes to a special STEM school which is part of Flinders University.

While I was talking to her, I was thinking that if I had a child, he or she would probably be at least her age or older by now. She wasn’t with her mother last night; she was with her mother’s friend, who she considers an honorary auntie. This girl was in year ten, and she hadn’t made up her mind about what she wanted to study once she finished school. She talked about all the things she thought about doing—medicine, law, engineering, and even social work. I thought social work was a bit unusual coming from a specialised STEM school, but I actually think that would be the best job out of all of them.

My friend Celeste, who runs the Women in Astronomy group and works at the university, was planning a trip to the Flinders at the end of the year for all the women to go stargazing. She asked me to come along, but I told her I couldn’t because I would be in Cambodia. Then, I did something I said I wouldn’t do—I told the other six women at the table why I was going to Cambodia, and that was to do research for my book.

I even told them about the temple with the stegosaurus carving and how I wanted to write about dinosaurs and man co-existing at the same time. I had said I would never talk about this because, first of all, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write under a pseudonym. Secondly, I like the idea of not talking about something and just doing it. But then I realised I might be overthinking it. The likelihood of being published is slim, so I told them, and I don’t feel weird about it.

It’s true—I am researching for a book, and maybe by telling them, it will keep me accountable. If they ask how the book is going, I better not be in a position where I have to say I’m still thinking about it or haven’t gotten that far into it. So, if I ever lack motivation, I’m going to think about how I told all these people my plan, and I need to follow through.

After we finished dinner, we headed to one of the labs at the university and met with around seven or eight more women. It was very exciting—I haven’t been in a science lab in an educational setting, or any setting for that matter, since I was in school. The experiment we did last night was about how astronomers determine what elements are in meteors and asteroids.

We did this by burning various compounds to see what colours they give off. We also sprayed the compounds in liquid form onto the flame. The lady I worked with is a brilliant woman—I really like her. I see her at all types of astronomy events and meetings. I remember bumping into her at Brian Cox's event down at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre.

There were three very young ones there last night—my fifteen-year-old dinner buddy, Celeste’s niece who is 14, and a girlfriend of mine’s daughter who is 18 years old. I was so excited for them, being involved with this group and having the opportunity to do things like this on a Friday night. It was such a simple experiment, but it was so much fun. For me, it made me want to get back into science, even just in an amateur capacity.

Below, you can see our resident physics teacher, who gave us a lecture before we started getting practical.

Below is a photo of our group at the workstations. My work buddy is over on the back wall in the far right-hand corner.

Here are three photos of the flame changing colours to orange, green, and red. It's flames like these that I tried glass blowing on. I felt like whipping out a rod of glass and melting it on these flames, but the reality is—I don't like it. So many things could go wrong when blowing glass like this, or any way, for that matter.

Lab coats. 

One person I missed last night was Luna. I’ve mentioned Luna before—they are my friend who is currently before the courts for attempted murder. I say they’re my friend, but they’re not really anymore. Before I found out what they’d done, I messaged them three or four times asking them to come to my birthday, and they didn’t respond. I think they did that to protect me. Celeste hasn’t heard from them either.

The Women in Astronomy group has only been going for a couple of years, but at the ones I’ve attended in the past, Luna was there. Every time I think about what they’ve done, I am in two minds. On one hand, I can’t believe it—someone I know, someone I spent time with and really cared about, is up for attempted murder. But on the other hand, I can believe it because it was a planned crime of passion, and there were little things they did that were questionable.

I’ll tell you one thing: I once said to Luna that if I had children, and I had to write in my will who I wanted to look after them in the event of my death, I would have wanted it to be them. I said that because I thought I liked their values. They were so modern and caring, and I felt like they had the right outlook on life with their gender neutrality and open-mindedness. Boy was I wrong.

The last time I spoke to them, they said they thought they had autism and ADHD. I also now know that they have a mental illness, which I have no problem with. But the way I know about that is unsettling—apparently, when Luna was planning to kill their girlfriend’s ex-partner, the girlfriend suggested they come off their medication. Allegedly, it was so that if they got caught, they could plead insanity. But I think it’s more likely that her girlfriend wanted Luna to come off the medication so they would actually go through with it.

Mental illness or not, I don’t think I want to know someone who planned to take another person’s life. Without having spoken to them, I can sort of see what might have happened, but I know what did happen—there is now one less person in our Women in Astronomy group.

Oath Or Affirmation?

I've had writer's block of late—writer's block about my own life. Today, I went to visit Miriam, the Syrian refugee whom I have started visiting again once a week. She likes to practice her English with me. I used to put together formal lessons, but I decided to take a more informal approach.

Off our own bat, we have talked about everything to do with our families and our lives, mostly through Google Translate. So, today I asked AI to put together 100 questions I could use in conversation with someone learning English. AI came up with some questions, and they were a little cheesy, but I know Miriam thought about them, and she thought about how to respond.

An example is, "What time do you get up in the morning?" With this particular question, I could tell they had taught her a range of these types of questions at TAFE because she first answered the time she goes to bed, and then she realised it was the opposite. We had a good time today, had a laugh, and then I asked her if she wanted to ask me any questions. She said she didn't know how.

So, I asked her to get her daughter to help her come up with 10 questions to ask me next week when I visit, and she liked the sound of that. Next week, we're also going to practice the citizenship test because she mentioned she had failed her first attempt. I'm going to look around online and see if there are any resources we can use to help her learn the answers. I imagine it would have been a bit of a struggle for her, but she could definitely pass it if she puts her mind to it.

I'll give you an update on Nanny. Nanny has taught me a very valuable lesson, and that is the power of the mind. Nanny wasn't doing too well before it was determined that she is terminally ill, but she could still hold a conversation, and she was lucid. But as soon as they told her about her prognosis, she went downhill 500%.

She now speaks, but no one understands what she is saying at all. I know she speaks Lithuanian sometimes because I can make out a few words, not that I understand what they mean. I've mentioned before that she cried a lot in the past, but now it's as if she is permanently crying. She gets hysterical, delusional, and it's really hard for anyone to be around her without wanting to cry themselves.

I am heartbroken. I really am. She was a very harsh person, but she was my person. I spoke to her twice a day and visited her all the time. But now, I feel weird with her family, now that she is like this. I feel like I shouldn't be there when I go to visit because really, dying is a very intimate thing. But I know she would want me to be there, so I'm going to keep going. It really was just like out of a textbook—the way they told her she was going to die, and she just became a different person.

It reminded me of the "pointing of the bone" in some Aboriginal cultures. In some Australian Aboriginal communities, usually a tribal elder will point a bone—I understand it's usually an animal bone, you'd hope—at someone who has broken tribal law or gone against social norms. By pointing the bone, the idea is to curse the individual or place a death sentence on them. The power of this act has profound effects on some people, sometimes causing severe psychological distress and even death.

I find that absolutely amazing. It’s like what has happened to Nanny—she was told she was going to die, and her mind and body have responded accordingly. When I'm there with her, I wonder if she still knows what's going on, and I think she does. Sometimes, she will say her daughter's name. This is her daughter who has been doing absolutely everything for Nanny, and it has put a lot of pressure on her.

It's the age-old question: Are you better off having dementia and not being aware that you're going to die, or are you better off living through every second of it? I think about that a lot after seeing my father live with dementia for so many years. I actually think dementia is kinder. It was so difficult for everyone around him, but for him, he was happy and carefree. He left us at the ripe old age of 95.

Nanny is 91, but before this, she wasn't like any other 91-year-old you've ever met. She continued to clean our house up until she was 90. I think she's had this cancer for a long time. She had trouble with her doctor, who refused to do tests on her because of her age, and I knew there was something wrong.

I have been back to mosaic classes over the last few weeks, and I just finished off that pot I was making before. You can see it below. I'm happy with the way the colours turned out.

I know why it took me so long to completely tile that relatively small pot. It's because I wanted every piece to be cut perfectly, and I spent a really long time trying to make them look good. But by the end of it, I got to a point where I thought to myself, "Just get the pieces on the pot so you can grout it." And that's what I am going to do this coming week, and I'm really excited about that. Then, I'm going to work with glass.

Since I last wrote, I took photos of two people using words to express themselves. The first is an image of my best friend Hussein's ten-year-old daughter's television monitor, which she uses as a computer screen. Hussein's three children go to an Islamic college on top of their day-to-day school, and they have been teaching them to hate Israel. He told me they boycott Israeli food and drinks and have become fundamental about it.

The second image of self-expression I took was at a Housing SA complex in Gilberton, where my friend Andrew lives. I love Andrew—he is a very good friend, as is his partner Kate. Andrew has lived in this complex for 23 years, and he's told me all sorts of stories about prostitutes and heroin dealers. It really does sound scary.  

I can't handle staying in this big house alone, thinking someone will break in. I know I wouldn't survive with people like that living close by. Below is a photo of a door on a vacated property.

If you can't read it, it says: "Fuck off!! Because I don't want u to touch MY SHIT! Coz Now I am gonna touch u." My friend Andrew says the police are there all the time and I think it's not fair on decent people like Andrew and Kate who want live peaceful lives and go about their business without all the drama. 

I have been getting lots of letters from heads of governments and chief justices, but I received one letter from my own Chief Justice that was extremely disappointing. Below is the letter I wrote to him:

23 August 2024

Dear Your Honour,

I am writing to ask about the process and details surrounding the oaths or affirmations taken within our judicial system, particularly in your capacity as the Chief Justice of our Supreme Court.

Specifically, I would like to know the following:

Oath or Affirmation of Office: When you were sworn in as Chief Justice, did you have the option to choose between swearing an oath or making an affirmation? If so, could you kindly provide the exact wording of both the oath and the affirmation?

Courtroom Oaths: Could you inform me about the oath used within your courtroom? Is there an option for an affirmation? Who administers these oaths and affirmations, and have these individuals themselves taken an oath or affirmation of office?

Administration of Oaths: Have you personally administered any oaths or affirmations for other officials? If so, could you please share the context in which these oaths or affirmations were administered?

Thank you very much for considering my request. I greatly appreciate the time you take to respond to my questions, and I look forward to your reply.

Sending you my best regards,

Sincerely,

Me

And the response I received back from him was:

Dear (Me)

Thank you for your letter dated 23 August 2024.

The taking of the oaths of office is governed by the Oaths Act 1936 (SA.

Yours sincerely,

Chief Justice

It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t thought so highly of him to begin with, but now I’m seriously unimpressed.

A Whole Stack Of Showbags

I've been thinking a lot lately about whether I could ever go back to eating meat. I never was a true meat eater—I never hoed into a steak or enjoyed sausages—but I think it's because I'm on a drastic calorie-controlled diet that not having a lot of food is making me fantasise about possible eating scenarios. Something that keeps popping up is meat.

So, seeing as the Royal Adelaide Show is on at the moment, I decided to go there and visit the animals to see if I could picture myself eating them. I remember talking to my friend Andrew one night about possibly becoming a vegan, and he said he understood why people make that choice. He mentioned that, in an ideal world, people would go out, source their own game, kill it themselves, and then eat it.

See, that's the thing—it's not necessarily the killing of the animal to eat it that bothers me. But when we do it, it's not a fair fight. These animals die in the most horrific circumstances, full of fear, pain, and filth. It's the way we manhandle them that bothers me the most.

Below, you can see a photo of a cow and his handler that I took yesterday. You might just be able to see he is holding a phallic-looking rod, which he used to lightly tap the cow. But the cow was mooing, and he didn't like it. I just felt like saying, "Don't fucking touch the animal. Don't assert aggression over it because it's not a fair fight." It feels as if we torment them before we kill them, and that's what I dislike the most.

It was in the Farmyard Nursery that I saw baby cows, or calves. I was just looking at these beautiful little cows, thinking they should be with their mothers. They were very young. But they were dairy calves, and in true dairy fashion, they would have been taken from their mother not long after they were born, while the mother potentially ran after the truck or car they were being taken in.

I remember watching an interview with a dairy farmer, and the journalist asked him if he was separating families. He said no, and then added, "Only the mother and calf." I can appreciate that a dairy farm is a family's livelihood, and I don't think there is an easy solution to this problem. But first, people need to recognise that it is a problem. It is so cruel and inhumane.

I remember mentioning it to Mum one day, and she looked at me and said she wished I wouldn't talk about these things because they upset her. In many ways, I'm not in a position to complain about that because I still have milk in my coffee and tomato soup, and I eat cheese too.

Sometimes I think we should imagine if animals had reign over humans after we die. It would be interesting to see how they treat us. Below are the two calves from the Farmyard Nursery.

There were some lambs in a pen next to the calves, and they were all making a weird noise, huddled up in the corner, looking like they didn't want to be there. Below, you can see them.

After seeing these animals and more, there is literally no way I could eat one of them. I don't know if humans were meant to eat meat. If you think about it, we simply cannot catch them or kill them without the use of tools. And sometimes I wonder if tool use was supposed to happen. Regardless, I think if I even tried to eat meat now, my mind wouldn't allow me to proceed with it because I would be thinking about the beautiful cow, chicken, or pig. I don't know. I never say never, but after yesterday, I know I am happy being a vegetarian who is currently on a calorie-controlled diet.

I'm not a rides girl, and I never go on them. But I took the opportunity to wander around side-show alley. I want to be a carney, traveling around the country with each show, with all the fairs and carnivals. I bet they all know each other, and there's probably a big community of them. I am in awe of them because they are the ultimate vagabonds.

As I marvelled at the carnies running the rides and enticing people to play their games, I bumped into some friends.

I love it when aliens are depicted like this. I personally think they would look a lot more like us than that. I mean, a lot more. I mean identical. I think if aliens exist, we have the potential to be carbon copies of them. And as my Ancient Aliens friends would say, we were created in their image.

These two were part of a ride called Alien Abduction. I think if I was going to go on a ride, it would be this one because it's the old Gravitron revamped. But even the aliens couldn't get me on this one.

Even though I didn't want to go on any rides or play any games, I love this area of the show. It's so colourful, with music and lights, and everyone is having such a good time. Below, you can see the creepy clowns, which I oddly find visually pleasing.

After I finished wandering around the rides area, I made my way to the showbag hall. I decided to buy Hussein's children a whole stack of showbags because they don't ever get the opportunity to go to the show. I got six in total, which is two each, but when I went to buy the last showbag, my debit card was rejected. I thought that was weird, but then I got a text message saying the bank suspected fraud on my card because I had made so many transactions in a short period of time.

I paid with cash and then left the show to make the phone call to sort it out. It was incredibly annoying, particularly since I had to catch an Uber home and that is my only card. I spoke to the guy at the bank, who was really nice about it, and he said he would do something to make sure this didn't happen again.

I made it home safe and sound, and I am seeing Hussein tonight, so I will surprise his kids with the showbags.

You know, the show is actually quite expensive. For me to get in, it was $27, and for adults on the weekend, it is $33. Children are $16.50 Monday to Friday, and on the weekends, they are $20.50. A family of four is $63.50 Monday to Friday, and on Saturday and Sunday, it is $76. There are concessions and discounts online, and children under the age of five are free, but I don't think those prices are fair for families who are already struggling with the cost of living.

As well as that, the cost of rides, food, goods, and showbags makes the show an unrealistic option for so many families. And I know that because my friend Hussein can't afford to take his family. I would love to buy them a family pass, but he wouldn't like that.

The show is cruel to the animals, and it's also cruel to the people. An event like that should be available to everyone. It should be somewhere people can go to escape the worries of day-to-day life, many of which are financial. They should be free to give their children memories they won't forget by going on rides, indulging in the food, and buying showbags.

I would steer clear of the animals so as not to encourage their use in the event. But to put it simply, I think the show should be free. People pay enough to the carnies and other vendors, and the added expense of admission could be the difference between whether a family is able to go or not.

True Professionals

Tonight, I went to the movies down at the Regal Theatre. I was the only person in the entire cinema. That has happened to me a few times before at the Regal, but I know how they stay afloat—it can't be through their movies alone. Their live shows attract large crowds. The Tina Turner show Mum and I recently attended was nearly sold out, and I've been to other shows there with similar turnouts.

I went to see a movie called It Ends With Us. On Instagram, I follow a lot of entertainment news pages, and there has been quite a bit of hype about the movie. There have also been many stories about how the main characters, Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni, fought a lot on set and can't stand each other. So I secretly wanted to see this movie to assess how good their acting skills were, given that they were playing a romantic couple. Justin was also the director of the movie.

Blake and Justin were amazing—you would never know that in real life they can't stand each other. Their rift was reportedly so bad that he even hired a public relations firm to spin the stories about him being difficult on set. The good thing about this movie was the main character, Lily Bloom, played by Blake Lively, was a florist. I loved watching all the scenes in her flower shop.

The bad thing about this movie is that it is actually about domestic violence. I'm not going to recap the story; to be honest, if you can imagine what a Hollywood movie, advertised as a romantic drama featuring domestic violence, would look like—well, this is it. Once you figure out what's going on, you know exactly what will happen.

Because I have been following all the gossip about this movie and watched the stars promote it, I have to say their approach really annoys me. I read an article that said they weren't doing enough to use the movie as a platform to educate about domestic violence, and I agree 100%. They could have used this as an opportunity to highlight domestic violence in our communities and to really send a message to both perpetrators and women stuck in these relationships. But instead, they are running around in floral-themed dresses, focusing on the florist part of the movie.

The movie is actually based on a book by Colleen Hoover, and apparently, there are two sequels. But there is no chance they will be made into movies with this cast, at least, because Blake and Justin can't stand to be in the same room together, let alone film another movie.

I'm glad I went tonight, though. As I said, the movie was predictable and, in some parts, boring, but what I learned is that the actors themselves are true professionals, and I like to learn from people like that.

Around lunchtime today, I went to the Travel Doctor TMVC to get my vaccinations for Cambodia. I have been to them before; they have always been called the Travel Doctor TMVC, but they come under the umbrella of Sonic HealthPlus, which is probably some big medical conglomerate. They act like it too.

For example, today my Medicare card wasn't registering, which was weird because it works at my GP. Whenever I've had trouble with the card at other doctors' offices in the past, they called Medicare to sort the problem out. These guys could have done that, and I suggested it, but this one incredibly argumentative woman told me that they couldn't do that and that Medicare wouldn't give out my details to them. As I understand it, there is a line that doctor's offices can call, but I wasn't going to fight her on it.

I was called into the doctor's room, and he introduced himself. Then he showed me his name on his stamp, as if I needed clarification of the spelling. I told him that it was a great name and asked what nationality he is. He actually seemed a bit offended by me asking that, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back. He quickly responded, "India." I then said I would love to go to India one day, which I would. 

He was a nice man but very intrusive. He asked me all sorts of questions about my trip, some of which seemed excessive. For example, he asked a lot of questions about who I was going with, how many days I would be there, and where in Cambodia I would be going. The last one is fair enough because he needed to determine whether I needed anti-malarials, which I didn’t—thank goodness, because last time I took them, they made me feel high anxiety.

He determined that I needed three vaccinations for my trip: an all-in-one vaccination for whooping cough, diphtheria, and tetanus, as well as rabies and typhoid. I took the opportunity to get a flu vaccination aswell since I hadn’t had one this year. This doctor was a good salesman; he managed to sell me a holiday kit that includes some antibiotics for gastro and cold and flu, so that will be nice to have as a backup.

Below is the vaccination room where they jabbed me. 

I was talking to the nurse about the cost of the vaccines, which is quite high. Specifically, the rabies vaccination is over $300 for two doses. I have to go back for the second one. I was thinking, if you had a family of four going on a holiday, that adds up to over $1,200. That is a lot, and when we were talking about it, the nurse said sometimes a family will decide not to go to any areas with monkeys or animals so they don't have to get the vaccination. I think that is such a shame that people have to miss out because of the price of a preventative measure.

Last night, I went back to mosaics class in Gawler. I didn't realise it, but it has been about three months since I last attended. There were some new faces in the class, but still, everyone was a woman. I tend to stick to myself and not contribute much to the conversation, but it's interesting to hear what different people are talking about.

Last night, I heard two people discussing a family member who was terminally ill and dying of cancer. Others were talking about their grandchildren, and since most of the ladies seem to come from the Gawler area, they often talk about local things like upcoming events and the shops they frequent.

I am still working on the pot that I started all those months ago, and I am very keen to finish it and grout it so I can learn that process. I have so much to learn about mosaics, and I also need to find my groove in terms of spacing the tiles, cutting them, and sizing them to both fit and look good on the object. These challenges are not unique to mosaics, but I think, like anything, the more I do it, the more comfortable I'll become in creating something good.

Below, you can see some photos of my pot, which is taking me so much time! I know it sort of looks a bit unfinished, but I had a vision for it. Now, I literally just want to get the tiles on the pot so I can grout it and then move on to glass. Below that, you can see the tile cutter and then a row of cut tiles.