Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Him: It's interesting. I wonder if it's the height of the counter? But most female customers have to lean forward to put the salt and vinegar on.
Other guy: Must you make a comment about it?
Him: I just think it's interesting! [To me] You didn't lean forward.
Me: I make a point not to lean forward.
Him: Don't worry girl, I'm sure they're lovely and all, but I think most female customers must just be short.
Me: That's weird, because I consider myself quite short.
Him: No, I think you're a good height for a female.
Me: Well, thanks, that's always good to know.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
I've been called stubborn (I disagree, by the way). The Mother has always said that I nod along with everyone, then do exactly what I want anyway.
I just wonder how many mistake we've made with our instinctive no, when a little more flexibility could have won us great things.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
that I know
that you are just an
an obscure reflection of a conversation long since forgotten.
that I know
that you are just an
an unheard song
a whispered melody, misheard and forgotten.
that I know
"Some scholars believe that the zombies were a last-minute addtion to the novel, requested by the publisher in a shameless attempt to boost sales. Others argue that the hordes of living dead are integral to Jane Austen's plot and social commentary. What do you think? Can you imagine what the novel would be like without the violent zombie mayhem?"
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I was a bit meh on the Julie part. But it was quite a project to embark on (and definitely one of those "I wish I had thought of that" ones).
And now I just want to go and cook something adventurous and vivacious and French.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Maybe because we're projecting the right energy? Or maybe because that is when we recognise the things we may have been too self-obsessed or self-absorbed, or too naive or too immature to see.
Forgive me, I've been watching too much David Lynch.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
So far I have emptied the box and watched The Shawshank Redemption while randomly arranging stuff in piles (Oooh, water bill. I no longer pay water bills, but I might need that. I know, I'll put it on this pile and file it under R for Random.).
The main flaw in my plan was to do all this while perched on my bed. I have managed to dislodge the piles twice and been attacked by the three (three!) packets of batteries I've found. I would take a photo of the carnage but I actually can't find my camera. Or my phone. Could somebody please call me so I can do an echo-location?
Maybe I'll give up, layer all the bills in my clothing in manner of street-sleeper and just watch Mullholland Drive instead.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
But I was cool once! Here, see for yourself.
Are we protecting ourselves? Are we more cynical about our thoughts and ideas? Less willing to risk them out loud? Or are our thoughts just more precious to us, something we can keep to ourselves when necessity forces us to be shared with the world?
Monday, September 07, 2009
He reached up to touch the rafters above his head, scowling as his fingers brushed over pigeon shit. He ground his teeth at the unconcerned birds, hating them for their well-worn perches, their homey mess. As he hated the other would-be passengers who joined him under the overhang. His antipathy swelled as he watched them cluster together, away from the bin where he stood.
Flies, attracted to his overheated appearance, circled lazily. Flies, heat, trains, waiting: he listed them again as the lights went green and the train screeched into the station in fits and starts. The people around him forced open the doors, clambering over each other in their eagerness for seats away from the broken windows. Carrying his list of peeves with him, the crank chose carriage number two.
Unsure of his reasons, he faltered for a moment, trying to rationalise his decision. The shrieking whistle yanked him out of his reverie and he barely managed to avoid the closing door and grabbed onto a rail for safety. Unnoticed, unheeded, unwanted, he thought morosely when none of the other people in the carriage so much as glanced at him.
Not thinking this time, the crank chose a seat by the door. He settled next to a schoolgirl absorbed in her book. A wave of something encroached on his habitual self pity. A quick glance at the girl confirmed that she hadn't noticed. Uncaring, he thought, adding the word to unnoticed, unheeded and unwanted.
He glumly examined the spear of sun shining on his well scuffed shoes. Soon it would creep over his ankle, attack his knee and bake his leg. Stickiness, stuffiness, sullenness. The alliterative misery broke through and he smiled, briefly and sardonically. He reached into his pocket and brought out the other list, the one he had had no say in compiling.
Breathe, it said.
Quashing the impulse to roll his eyes, he huffed in and out.
Close your eyes and absorb the atmosphere, it said.
He blinked and considered that done.
Sit without judgement, it said.
Look without criticism, it said.
Relax, it said.
He folded the list away carefully, placed his hands on his knees and prepared to stare at the floor. He ground his teeth as he noticed an identifiable stain by his right foot.
“Think we'll be late again?” a young voice asked.
Startled, he swung around to face the schoolgirl.
She bent the spine of Wuthering Heights back. “Were you stuck yesterday too?” she ventured when he looked at her.
“No,” he answered eventually.
Breathe, the list had said. He inhaled, exhaled.
“I don't usually take the train.”
“I always take the train,” she answered him comfortably. “But it means I'm late a lot. Have you ever tried to explain to a teacher that it's Metrorail's fault? The first 50 times, sure. After that they start to get a bit sceptical. Have you read this?” She gestured with the book.
He nodded slowly.
“It's prescribed,” the girl said. “I don't know how I feel about it yet.”
“Either you like it or you don't,” the crank said, surprising himself.
She shook her head.
“Impossible to say.”
“Why?” the crank asked, despite himself.
“Because they're horrible. Obsessed and pathetic is not particularly appealing you know. They should just let it go.”
Relax, the list said.
“This is me,” the schoolgirl said as the train shuddered to a halt. She leapt up and was immediately lost in the crush.
The crank followed more slowly, his instructions screwed up in a ball in his hand. He walked up the platform, not noticing the vendors and their buckets of ice and cooldrink. He didn't notice the ticket collector's glare when she buzzed him through the turnstile. He walked straight past the boys with their hands outstretched to where the young therapist waited.
“Well?” the young man asked. “Did the list help?”
“Goddamn fucking waste of my time,” the crank grunted, and threw the list away.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Sustenance (the bacon butties had already been consumed at this point)., originally uploaded by liz_isabella.
Sustenance (the bacon butties had already been consumed at this point).
The Sister is appropriately ashamed of spelling DVDs with an apostrophe., originally uploaded by liz_isabella.
The Sister is appropriately ashamed of spelling DVDs with an apostrophe.
The Sister is less than impressed about Milton Keynes at 6:30 on a Sunday morning., originally uploaded by liz_isabella.
The Sister is less than impressed about Milton Keynes at 6:30 on a Sunday morning.
Milton Keynes is very quiet at 6:30 on a Sunday morning., originally uploaded by liz_isabella.
Milton Keynes is very quiet at 6:30 on a Sunday morning.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
I like knowing what people are thinking (not as much as I like making up what people are thinking of course), but I would hate to think that I was offending someone's sensibitilies by wondering aloud.