The joy is in the details

Waking up on a Saturday morning with the bare bones of a plan in place, knowing only that in the late afternoon there will be tea with a good friend. Now to fill in the bones. Deciding which train to take, and whether to have a cup of coffee on the journey. Selecting the two books that deserve to accompany me. Wondering if I should take my ipod, but deciding against. Planning my journey across the city, with my well-thumbed guide in hand. Working out the distances and wondering about the weather. And then setting out on a trip.

I like Satudays.

Dear Michelle Harrison

I finally read Thirteen Curses (it's been hanging around my TBR pile for weeks), and I have to say, unfortunately it's not as compelling as Thirteen Treasures.

The story starts well, but then moves around in fits and starts. Doom arrives but is speedily worked out, then doom arrives again. There's too much going in this book and I thought it served neither of the story lines well to be jammed into this one volume.

Rowan still bugged me with her weirdly adult voice and stubborn attitude, but perhaps you created her that way? In which case, well done! It worked.

I know that ultimately this is a teen book, but I think it could have done with being a little longer and a little more in depth. It's a good story and it deserved that.

At least someone finally admits that fairies are creepy little fuckers.

I'm looking forward to seeing what you'll try your hand at next.

Report back

Yes. I love my new job. I like the vibe. I like the fact that I'm learning something new. I like the fact that it's education. I like that it's editing again. I like that they're going to pay me a decent salary. I like that the campus is pretty with decent places to walk at lunch.

So:

1) I hope they extend my contract,

2) I hope it stays as interesting as it is right now.

Which way is up?

I was watching a fascinating documentary tonight on the origins of cartography, and how maps have reflected imperialism and the thirst for conquest down the ages.

One of the mapmaking techniques they focussed on was Polynesian, and they were observing that while "western" cartographers focussed on north as the dominant direction, Polynesian navigators made west their focus. The person they interviewed was saying that west makes the most sense, because everything travels to the west - the sun, the wind, the tides.

The other interesting thing he was talking about was how the original Polynesian maps didn't depend on geographical accuracy. If an island was a big deal in folklore, then it was made bigger on the map. So in order to understand the map, you needed to be part of the culture that created it.

The focal point of the maps was the canoe the navigator was in, because that was the world right there. A tiny canoe, trying to cross endless water.

Science is written in stone

Art on campus, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

The cat whisperer

It feels like every single neighbouhod cat has come for a visit today. The black one was the bravest, he came by twice, and when I frightened him by coming into my room unexpectedly, he shot of here like a bat out of hell. The tabby glared at me from the patio. And I just looked up to see a orange and white one observing me from behind the glass doors, in a way that makes me very uncomfortable.

Perhaps they're visiting scientists and I'm of interest to them?

I think my housemates are trying to kill me

I just found one of the gas plates on in the kitchen, merrily burning away, slowly poisoning the atmosphere.

Wow, I feel safe.

Friday

The best kind of Friday. A week worked. A job well done. Time spent doing something I enjoy.

Now? The hope that it will stay good, and that nothing will come along and ruin it.

Ah yes, there's a cloud in every silver lining.

The weirdest stuff lives in my brain

Dis heerlike lente, die winter's verby;
weer nooi berg' en klowe vir jou en vir my.
Hol-la-dri-o-ha, hol-la-dri-o.
Hol-la-dri-o-ha, hol-la-dri-o!

Die bergklim is heerlik, dit hou mens gesond.
Die vroe-, vroeë môre het goud in die mond.
Hol-la-dri-o-ha, hol-la-dri-o.
Hol-la-dri-o-ha, hol-la-dri-o!

The Secret Garden

You know spring is on the way when I feel a yen to read The Secret Garden and watch the lovely movie they made of it.

There's just something about it that embodies the expectation of spring.

I think it's only now that I've experienced winter as a definite and separate and long and cold and snowy season, that I can appreciate, really appreciate, the light and life that spring brings.

Even though I miss having a spring birthday.

And where exactly have you been?

Busy. I've been very busy.

I've left Large Retailer at last and started a fantastic new job at Large University (well, it's fantastic so far, but it is only my second day). I was happy to leave Large Retailer, because I really had had enough. But, really, as unexpected deviations in my life plan go, it really turned out ok, didn't it? Decent pay, made new friends, relative freedom. And I ended on a high note, with people sad to see me go and saying nice things about me, and my shallow little heart grew two sizes. I never felt that at Magazine Purgatory until my leaving drinks, where my boss admitted that I wasn't too bad really. Gee thanks.

So now I'm at Large University and I'm excited and happy and really hoping that good things come from it. And then I can finally move out of the Hellmouth and just commute in instead!

So that's where I've been. Oh, and I've also been to Rochester and London. Rochester has the biggest secondhand bookshop in England. It's called Baggins and I'm going to have to go back for the express purpose of visiting that shop again.

Where have you been?

Sometimes I wish I could unread something

Permanently rid it from my memory, because it ruins everything that comes after.

Yo yo yo

So, The Hellmouth is getting a Yo Sushi. It opens in July. I don't know which is worse - that I'm excited we're finally getting a sushi place that isn't Pret, or that my subconcious clearly thinks that I'm still going to be here in the Seventh Circle in July.

The way home

I drove into London this weekend to see friends, of which I have more than I realise on a day to day basis. It's always a pleasant surprise when I think of it, and makes me appreciate them more.

I drove back to The Hellmouth via Epping Forest. If I ever move back to London, I think I'll find a spot there somewhere. It's the part of the city that reminds me most of Cape Town. Something about the winding road through the trees and the occasional flashes of distant hills - suddenly I'm on Rhodes Drive in my claptrap car, trundling over Constantia Nek towards Hout Bay. And then a left-hand drive, long distance lorry from Poland comes lurching across a traffic circle straight at me and I'm back in grey England.

Thank God February is over. I can breathe again.

More reasons I hate my housemates

1) They only have one conversational tone: shouting.

2) They call each other horrible, horrible names.

3) He has bratty kids who vandalise the loo.

4) In some deranged ploy to gain who knows what, they've removed all the big plates from the kitchen.

5) They keep setting the fire alarm off.

6) They stomp up and down the stairs.

7) They never stop shouting at each other.

8) They live here.

Extensions

My contract at Large Retailer has been extended to the end of March. I'm actually ok with this, because I feel less trapped I guess. I have my car now, so I don't have to funnel all my earnings into saving for that. Instead I can funnel all of it into a clear my credit card/save for deposit on my own place to rent fund.

I feel free-er, because now I can get places with precious, precious car. And I've got an interview, so I don't feel quite so hopeless about everything. So no matter what happens there (how much would I love that job though!), there will probably not be a horrible cross-over period of me earning nothing, and having to pack in with my sister or anything like that. So...hopeful, I guess, is the theme of this post.

Good thing I gave up negative thinking for Lent. And started The Feel Good Handbook. And exercising. Maybe it's all helping.

Embracing Podcasts

Since my New!Car! doesn't have a CD player, I can only listen to music via my ipod and the ipod converter. I thought I'd take full advantage and start following my favourite podcasts more closely. And since all the creativity has been beaten out of me by Large DIY Company That Is Not Argos, I'm going to list the podcasts in lieu of, you know, original thought.

- Behind the Grammar
- Books and Authors
- Classical Performance
- David Mitchell's Soapbox
- The Digested Read podcast
- A History of the World in 100 Objects
- The House of Comments
- Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo's Film Reviews
- The Parliament Podcast Channel

And who knows, maybe it'll start inspiring my writing again. I never used to feel like I'd run out of things to say. It happens more and more though!

I fear I am addicted

Early this morning I woke up in a flat panic, raced to turn on the light then checked that my wireless router was in place. I heaved a sigh of relief, and went back to sleep.

David Mitchell on the act of giving flowers

"It's as if they actually believe that what other people think of them somehow doesn't matter. I mean, I know we're all supposed to believe that. But obviously none of us actually do, and nor should we, because it does, it does matter. And the people who genuinely believe it doesn't tend to be the very people who ought to care the most about that other people think of them, because what the other people are thinking is that no, actually, I don't think the Chinese are up to something, or you should use mouthwash, or your mania for the collectivisation of soviet agriculture will surely cause the death of millions, or 40 cats is too many cats."

Rocknrolla

Not as good as Snatch.

RIP Dick Francis

Some of his books may have been a little formulaic, but they were so readable, you barely noticed. I really enjoyed his mysteries. There was always a zing, a fight to the death, and interesting heroine. You always found yourself rooting for his hero,no matter how banal the plot was. My favourites remain Driving Force and Decider, which I can, and have, read over and over again.

RIP Dick Francis.

In which we reinvent Yellow Submarine

Also with varying degrees of success.

In which we play I Spy

With varying levels of success.

Invictus

When I went to see this, people in the audience got so excited they cheered and clapped. I think that about summarises how awesome it was.

And I shall call him...um...

Not sure yet. The name has not been revealed to me.

Swept Away

The one thing I've never learned to do is not to be swept away by what I'm feeling. It was the one area of tai chi I found nearly impossible (other than embrace the tiger, return to the mountain). At the time it was because I felt like it would be cheating - that by not experiencing every single emotion I have, I was in effect burying it all away, and how could that be healthy?

Now I realise it's more about putting away your emotional reactions to your emotions (follow me here), allowing you to more carefully analyse them and see them for what they are.

But it's hard not to be swept away by despair. As hard as it is not to be swept away by happiness. And when you've felt both before lunch time, well. That's like being capsized in a storm.

At last!

Invictus has finally been released here. I can't wait to see it. Can't wait.

Close to home

Assisted suicide is something that hits a little close to home for me. I feel very close to the issue and so it makes me jumpy. Terry Pratchett has announced that he wants to be a test case for assisted suicide. He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few years ago. This article talks about those for and against the issue in the UK at the moment.

One thing I find really interesting about the coverage around this is that the right wing nutjobs appear not to be interested. I would fully expect the rabid right to lifers to get majorly involved in this, but instead the argument seems to focus far more on legal definitions and decisions than anything else. It's just a very interesting topic, I think.

Up in The Air

Brilliant.

That's it - just brilliant. I managed to get the book today, and I'm hoping it's not another Fight Club situation (ie movie is better than the book).

Trailers: Invictus! I can't wait to see it. It'll be the first time, I think, that I'll see a movie about an event I remember vividly.

It's complicated

It was ok - fairly amusing, with one hilarious naked Skype scene. Meryl Streep was doing her burgeoning older woman thing, but I don't think she needed to try to hard, you know? Mostly, the movie was just interior decorating porn. Seriously gorgeous set dressing happening there. It was very gilded and glowing - luminous skin and glistening eyes and decadent food and blah blah. So, I guess my review is meh? John Krasinski was really the best part.

Trailers: Crazy Heart (Jeff Bridges plays aging country singer, very intriguing) and Robin Hood (Gladiator minus the Romans and Joaquin Phoenix).

The tragedy of war

"What brought the tragedy home were the artefacts - the inscribed bibles and lucky charms.

For her, the two most poignant came from Australian soldiers. The first was a small lucky charm in the shape of a boomerang, to symbolise returning home.

The other was the return half of a railway ticket from Freemantle to Perth, intended for the soldier's journey home to his family."

From this article about identifying the unknown soldiers of the First World War.

Accepting the inevitable

I clearly have some fluffy element missing from my bloodstream, because I am on week two of reading everything Katie Fforde has ever written and am feeling better for it. My bookclub book has been abandoned in the bottom of my bag. My bedside book has been abandoned just short of the end. The book I ordered from Amazon and couldn't wait to get my hands on has not yet been touched. Instead I am wandering rural England, admiring a world of Agas, Rayburns, lumpy jumpers, amusing cats, disreputable friends and grumpy guys who always turn out all right in the end.

That's the beauty of Katie Fforde. It all turns out all right in the end.

Bye

Good bye.
Goodbye.
Bye.
Byebye.
Byebyebyebye.
Come back -
comebacktomewhenyoucan.
Because behind goodbye is
Imissyou.

Still dreaming

Although I'm making some concrete moves into the future (seriously - things are happening I hope), I'm still dreaming about the things I want. I think about my hoped for garden, with the nice field next door that houses my horse. I dream about my living room, with it's wall to wall white shelving units, lined with books. The ladder I need to reach the ones on top will be parked in a corner. The sofa and the chair probably won't match but they will be comfy. There will be thick curtains at the window, and the room will be cosy when they're closed. The little roll top desk will sit in the corner, and my laptop will live there. I will not have it in my room or on my lap. It will be in a place for Working, and I will actually use it for writing and such, not just checking TT and wandering around Facebook.

I'll have a table to eat at, and set it every day, even if it is just me eating. Because I like a table set for eating - the placemat, the plate, the knives and forks. The kitchen will call out to be cooked in - and I'll have gadgets galore. A bookshelf in the kitchen. A pantry with my stuff lined up, even though my sister would fall apart laughing at me. A full set of crockery. A couple of La Crueset dishes. An interesting project cooking on the stove. A window looking over a full garden, and herbs on the window sill.

Upstairs will have a chest on the landing. I've always wanted a big chest to store stuff in. An actual linen cupboard, with actual linen in, smelling all warm and cosy, with one of those lovely cedar pouches stored there for good measure. Two bedrooms, somewhere comfy to retreat to. A wooden sleigh bed that's begging to be slept in, a chair in the window that's begging to be read in. A bedside table that's stacked with books. A nice, tidy bathroom, with actual storage space, and an actual towel rail. Bottles with bubble bath lined up along the side - those funky little creme dispensers would do nicely. A house that's warm and cosy and mine. A garden that's small, but with secret corners that can't be seen from the house. The kind of patio that welcomes people for a braai. A corner that birds will flock to.

I want to want to get up early and ramble off into the wilderness with my dog, leaving behind a grumpy cat. I want to spend early mornings chivvying a horse around and think, gorgeous day, might go for a hack. I want to wake up on a Sunday and think - farmer's market today, better go stock up, and swing by the secondhand bookshop on the way back. I want to to be able to look around me and go, this, this is my life. These things, these things are mine. This life is what I've made, and it may not suit everyone, but damn it would make me really happy.

The Grey Lady

The Grey Lady - Sir John Everett Millais

Words of wisdom

"I'm just fed up of making lemonade, you know? I just want to moan about the lemons." - The Sister, wishing for an easy life.

Notes

I share a bathroom cabinet with two of the guys I live with (one's French and one's Italian). This evening I noticed that French guy had a little note stuck on his toothbrush, saying 'Je t'aime'. Almost makes up for the fact that I had to listen to him and girlfriend make je t'aime so loudly all weekend. Almost.

Lady in the water

Ophelia - Sir John Everett Millais

The Perfect Proposal

Yay! New Katie Fforde book due out on 10 June! That makes me all warm inside.

It's a truth universally acknowledged...

...that the grumpier I am, the more I enjoy seeing dead bodies on Silent Witness.

I haven't yet started to identify with the killers, but it's getting there.

Proof that Milton Keynes is the Hellmouth

My bus stop number is 666.

Daybreakers

Bloody, very bloody. But a nice spin on the usual vampires out to get us tale. Ethan Hawke was his usual understated self, Willem Dafoe keyed back the crazy to just plain eccentric, while Sam Neill enjoyed being evil a litte too much I think.

Humour Me

This was one of my favourite jokes when I was about 8 (and actually remains one of my favourite jokes):

What's green, hairy and very dangerous?

A horde of stampeding gooseberries.

Why, exactly, is this funny? I wish I knew. Is it the anthropomorphisation (I think I may have made that word up) of the fruit? Is it the hairiness? The danger? Is it the visual of a horde of gooseberries stampeding down a cliff? Or is it the fact that gooseberries are by their very nature peaceable fruits, so pretending they are otherwise is hilarious? Makes me smile every time though...

ON EDIT: Some googling showed up The Dangerous Brothers and the origin of the gooseberry jokes. You learn something new every day.

Random Thought

Do you think that when Jesus was getting into trouble at home, shovelling in his food or messing everywhere, Mary said to him: "What? Were you born in a barn?" And he was all: "Um...yes?"

Croupier

Clive Owen is much hotter now. That is my entirely shallow review.

Dear Cormac McCarthy

You make me want to go out and prevent your vision from becoming reality. But I fear the inevitability of a world bereft of everything but a few manmade objects. No flora, no fauna. No colour, no weather. Just grey ash and a human race spiralling into depravity. But the final chapter. There's hope there, I think. The Road could be a road to anywhere.

Books Books Books

More preciouses, purchased from Foyles on Charing Cross Road:

1) Silverthorn - Raymond E Feist
2) Dead Heat - Dick Francis and Felix Francis
3) Busman's Holiday - Dorothy L Sayers
4) The Road - Cormac McCarthy

The Lion King

We went to see The Lion King on stage over the weekend. My zen-like friend had gone on about it, and H and I needed to see something amazing, and it definitely fit the bill! The costumes are just incredible. The choreography is amazing. The music just made me wail - so homesick making.

It should be inane - people prancing about on stage, wearing hats with animals on them. But, it works. And it works fantastically.

Avatar

Finally got around to seeing this (and yes, I saw it in 3D). I was initially keen to try it (Empire has been hyping all year), but when the trailer actually hit I was less than impressed. But I dutifully went to see it anyway, and I could totally take it or leave it. First of all - insanely long. I think a tighter story line would have served Cameron's ideas much better. And wow there are a lot of ideas. Definitely the best part was seeing the complexity of the culture. That level of detail was very rewarding. But the main theme (culture with intense connection to nature gets consistently screwed over by capitalist pigs wearing military uniforms, until nature delivers an arse kicking) is very much an idea of the moment, and nothing particularly new.

So what did I like? First of all, the idea of an Avatar. That throws up lots of wonderful ideas about making yourself part of a culture. Is it cheating to wear that blatant a mask? The scientists are just "demons, an empty shell" - what makes them truly part of the people? I know we get our answer at the end, but I still felt a little like it was false pretences. Very nifty conceit though.

The second thing I liked was very small, but it was a nice touch. The further Sully gets involved with the people, the more his human appearance changes. His hair gets longer, he gets thinner. The body starts to reflect the mind. I was hoping that his Avatar would just suddenly take over, making it a true mental leap, but the connection to the planet makes sense.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say I don't like the 3D effect. Mostly because it gave me a headache, but also because I found it quite jarring. One of my favourite things about seeing movies in a cinema is that I get completely consumed. The 3D "experience" kept jolting me out of the story, and I didn't appreciate it.

So. You can stone me now if you want. I don't mind.

Balm for the soul

Red wine and chat with a good friend.

Dear Marian Keyes

Hmmmmmm. Marian, I have to say, your last couple of books have smacked of bitterness. They've been really good reads. But bitter enough to curdle milk.

love and kisses

Me

It's Quite An Odd Thing

If you think about it, water falling from the sky in the form of flakes, so many that the ground is covered in 20cm of the stuff - it's quite weird.

White Noise

I like silence, the peaceful echo of nothing, the emptiness of a quiet room. But there are days when I restlessly go from thing to thing, from DVD player to laptop to CD player to TV, wanting some kind of sound, any kind of sound, to fill the void.

Grotty Handbag Tells All

I was digging through my capacious handbag tonight, clearing out the grime in preparation for adding my Brand New Diary and Brand New Address Book to the mix. Am I the only one who sometimes picks through their stuff, pretending to be a detective?

Flicking through the pages of a largely empty diary, except for cryptic notations such as M:@8:30. Address book – also largely empty. Was she a sad old bird? Well no sir, says the PI's assistant. There's a receipt for WH Smith right here. Seems she bought that address book today. Interesting, says the PI. He digs deeper into the bag, wincing slightly as he is stabbed in the finger. He pulls out a wire keyring, eyeing the awkward jagged edge balefully. No car, he says. Well, says the assistant, pulling out a battered security pass. She works at Homebase, what do you expect? But she does like the Guardian. There are at least two here. Both crosswords semi-completed. She wasn't very good at the cryptics though.

Finally, they hit paydirt – coins and the dusty remains of some biscuits that escaped their baggie. The PI touches the 10p piece lightly to his tongue. Yes, he mumbles. Yes? asks the assistant. Yes, he answers. Definitely shortbread.

Books Books Books

Latest additions:

1) The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson (bought for book club, and we start discussing on the 15th, so I'd better get cracking)

2) The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold (I was momentarily blinded by Waterstone's 3 for 2 sticker and bought - horror of horrors - a movie tie-ing cover)

3) Company of Liars - Karen Maitland (Did I mention there was a 3 for 2 deal on? It's about the plague and I'm sure I read a review of it. Seems interesting enough)

The Game is Afoot

Even legendary Guy Ritchie hater Mark Kermode liked Sherlock Holmes. It can't really be called anything but a “cracking film”. A great script, excellent chemistry between Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law, and some kick-ass fight scenes made up for a slightly watery plot.

The plot was a bit bog-standard Victorian England – secret society, magical influence – but the visuals of Victorian England were super. Smoky, mysterious, busy – really evocative.

Robert Downey Jr was really excellent as the self-destructive, drug addicted detective. Clever, acerbic, and brutally jealous of Watson's fiance. Jude Law brought real energy to Watson's character (I know, I couldn't believe it either). Watson has tended to be portrayed as an idiot. But Arthur Conan Doyle wrote him as an intelligent and heroic man, equal to Holmes as a doctor, if not as a brilliantly deductive detective. It was great to see him give Holmes the kick in the arse he so regularly needs, to see his gambling, daring side, and also to see that he is as keen on getting into trouble as his partner his. Their byplay was easily the best part of the movie.

The fight scenes were really interesting – CSI style with a Holmes twist. Listening to him plot how was going to thump someone and then watching him execute it was a great plot device and well used.

Typical of Guy Ritchie movies – great supporting cast by English actors. Managed to spot Eddie Marsan as Inspector Lastrade (last seen playing the snorting Pancks in Little Dorrit) and William Houston as Constable Clark (last seen playing the yummy and heroic Dr Millais Culpin in Casualty 1909).

So, two very enthusiastic thumbs up. Amusing, adventurous – I liked Sherlock Holmes a lot.

Trailers: Book of Eli (Denzel Washington in badass mode, with a religious twist – ooooooh) and The Lovely Bones (based on the book, which I haven't read yet).

Watch It Round Up 2009

When I moved over to the UK, I had to give up my precious Ster Kinekor card, and leave behind Half Price Tuesdays. For more than a year I saw no movies at the cinema, and barely watched anything on DVD. It was a painful, painful time. But this year I was saved by Cineworld's Unlimited Card. I love it - you can go see as many movies as you like for £13 a month. It's changed my life. Seriously. Those who know me personally can attest to that fact. Anyway.

It was a pretty good year for movies all round I thought (I rediscovered watching movies on DVD as well - thank you LoveFilm! And a better paying job!). Favourites definitely included Slumdog Millionaire, Doubt, Mullholland Dr, True Romance, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, Where The Wild Things Are, District 9 and The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassis.

I seemed to gravitate towards complicated psychological dramas, and also watched more documentaries than I realised. Nothing like a bit of pain and reality!

A good year.

Read It Round Up 2009

I managed to beat 2008's total by about 10, with my final total of new books read coming in at 79. I'm so proud.

There are a lot of Nora Roberts and Katie Fforde books on the list again this year, but at the end of 2008 I promised I would try to read more "classics", and by classics I mean landmark novels, short stories and novellas. I loved Little Dorrit, and she really managed to get me over my Fear of Dickens. I also really enjoyed Revolutionary Road, The Book Thief, The Uncommon Reader and the Night Watch series. I was probably only truly disappointed by one book in 2009, and that was The Other Boleyn Girl. Philippa Gregory is definitely not for me.

What I would like to do in 2010 is read more Dickens and more Thomas Hardy. I'd also like to read as much Haruki Murakami as possible. I'm hoping to write a really good Dear Author entry for each new book I read as well.

But a good year's reading all round. I was in Waterstones the day before yesterday and as I wandered the stacks I was suffused with a feeling of satisfaction. Could I have chosen a better hobby? Never!

Going Places

2010 will be a year of going places, seeing new people, visiting new things.

2010 will be a year of itchy feet.

That's the plan.

Books Books Books

Newest additions:

1) Lady Chatterley's Lover - DH Lawrence
2) Cry, The Beloved Country - Alan Paton
3) The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera
4) Jude The Obscure - Thomas Hardy
5) For Esme With Love And Squalor - JD Salinger
6) The Infinite Plan - Isabel Allende

What I Miss Most About Living On My Own

Being able to do my song and dance routine while doing the dishes.

Through The Desert

In Where The Wild Things Are, the new movie based on the children's book, Max is twice led through a desert and faced with a realisation. Carol leads him through a desert and shows him what things used to be like, and wishes for things to go back to the way they were. KW leads him through a desert and shows him how things could be, and wishes everyone would move forward with her. He's somewhere in the middle.

The Wisdom of Chris Addison

As seen in The Guardian today.

"Chris mainly watched Fireman Sam over and over again with his chickenpox-ridden brood: 'If I were rationalising the Fire Service, the Pontypandy station would be the first to go. All they do is clear up after Norman Price, who really ought to be brought to the attention of social services.'"

Double Take

, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

Shades of Gold

, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

The Road Less Travelled

, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

Walk On

It's so easy to keep making excuses. My hiking boots are still in storage. I don't have a car. It's rainy and muddy. I'm scared to go on my own. But you have to see past the bullshit. You have to see the excuses for what they are - unfounded fears, silly hang-ups, ridiculous concerns - and move beyond them.

Never make excuses that prevent you from doing the things you want to do.

I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't want to be the person who has lots of ideas and plans, but does nothing to make them happen.

Today, I couldn't find my hiking boots and I wasn't able to buy a new pair, so I sucked it up and hiked in trainers. I hate hiking in trainers. I hate not hiking even more.

Starbucks Parable

Not every panini is my panini,
I said,
wishing it was so.
As a steak and tomato toasted made its way to the customer
at table 3.

Not every panini is my panini,
I murmured,
passing my gaze
to the display case with its sign:

Fair Trade (a better deal for all)

and waited for my skinny latte.
Double tall.
Extra hot.

Hmmmmmm

A new movie that kind of intrigues me on an anthropological level. The Best Friend would understand what I mean.

Babies.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I share a house with three strangers. The dispossesed Vietnamese chick has just moved out, leaving me to deal with a bemused Frenchman and a couple, who I will call Cock and Cock's Girlfriend.

One of the house rules is that no-one is allowed to wear shoes inside. I did not make this rule. I think it's a stupid rule, because there are tiles everywhere and I don't like being told what to do. Nonetheless, I take my shoes off and then I put them in my room. Sometimes in the cupboard. Sometimes they land near the chest of drawers. Sometimes they lie under my bed.

The rest of the household (read: Cock and Cock's Girlfriend) leave their shoes piled up by the front door. There's such a large pile that you can't get to the stairs without first having to negotiate the pile of trainers, loafers, high heels and other unwieldly footwear in enormous sizes. I mean, we're talking boxes without topses here.

So it was inevitable that I would this morning fall over an enormous pair of trainers and twist my ankle. Just as it was inevitable that as I fell I hurt my back. And then it was inevitable that I would shriek: "Fucking shoes!" and then kick them all over the passage. And it was inevitable that I step over them on my way out and lock the door, without tidying them away. My ankle hurts.

Walk Away Renee - The Left Banke

Progress?

A little while ago I posted a post about the fact that questions keep me awake at night. A friend asked me if that was true, do I really lie awake at night questioning and wondering? I said yes, because I do. But later, as I was replaying the conversation in my mind, I realised that I wasn't being completely honest. Because I hadn't realised that something had changed. I still lie awake sometimes, and then I think long middle-of-the-night thoughts (I blame the medication I've just gone cold turkey on), but I don't do it nearly as much as I used to do. I still fret, but it's not the destructive fretting I remember from a few years ago. I still worry, but it's not the all encompassing worry that used to make me not want to get up in the morning. It's all become tinged with a practicality. A pragmatism. A realisation that it's OK to have a mope, or a wallow, or feel a bit fretful. But there's no point in letting get in the way of my sleep. Or my life.

Progress? Who knew! It happened and I didn't even realise.

Missed Call

I got a call on my mobile from an unknown number. It went to voicemail, and all I got was a young man's voice in mid conversation. He was saying:

"HIV Positive - it's a play on words, but it's just a bad saying. It's about saying that we're not going to be sucked into the stigma that's associated with having HIV or Aids. Radical. Are you serious? You're talking shit Joe. You're talking absolute shit. No I won't hear you out. It's not logical. Because the time when you're most at risk of contracting HIV Aids is in the first two weeks of infection. And you become less infectious as time goes on. And you can be given drugs to reduce the infectiousness as well. Well there's an infesction risk for anyone. The risk applies to us all the time. Millions of people - 10 million people. It's not logically. You can't look at everything with your weird pragmatic pathologic slash fascist mind. It doesn't work all right, it doesn't work. No, you're wrong."

Viral marketing campaign? Accidental bum dial? Who knows. Funny though.

Diffident

dif·fi·dent (df-dnt, -dnt)
adj.
1. Lacking or marked by a lack of self-confidence; shy and timid.
2. Reserved in manner.

Catch

When people talk of being caught
between a rock and hard place,
You are what they mean.

When people talk of being caught
between the devil and the deep blue sea,
You are what they mean.

When people talk of being
caught out and caught up,
caught by and caught in,
and caught on caught on caught on.

When people talk of
being caught,
You are what they mean.

Burning questions

It's the whys and the hows that get me. The whos and the whatfors. The wheres and the whens. It's the questions that keep me up at night, turning thoughts that have no end over in my head.

Head desk

You know those moments when you just want to plant your face in your hands forever, while waiting for The Hole In The Earth to swallow you up as promised?

I have those every day. On special days, I have those moments every hour.

But I Being Poor Have Only My Dreams

When I was 18 I dreamed that I was sitting at a kitchen table. It was round and stained yellow. A bright buttercup yellow. The table sat in a window, and through the window I could see it was a beautiful day - blue sky and sunlight. I could feel it warming my face as I looked up from the papers I was sorting through. I sat looking out of the window, lost in thought. Someone walked through the kitchen. As he passed he touched me lightly on the shoulder. He didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything. But I woke up still feeling the light touch on my shoulder. And was content.

Taste of Home

Taste of Home, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

Skin

You are embedded on my skin
Indelible
Immovable as the mole on my forehead -
The one you'd touch and call
Yours.

Hazy shade of winter

Hazy shade of winter, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

TMI

I always wear co-ordinating underwear. It's a bit of a compulsion. Today, by some trick of fate and by virtue of Gap's knicker range, I did not. It bugged me far more than it should have done. I think I may need some kind of intervention.

A Sign

A Sign, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

Language Is A Fluid Thing

This morning, while simultaneously doing a crossword and trying to convert grams into kilograms.

"What's smaller than an inch?" I asked.

"What?" he said.

"You get millimeters, which are smaller than centimeters, but what's smaller than an inch?" I asked again.

"You don't get milli-inches," he agreed.

"We just say 'half an inch' or 'quarter inch',' I said. "We should have deci-inches."

"Or centi-inches," he said. "Cinches!"

"Ha!" I said. "Excellent use of language."

"Well, you know what they say. A miss is as good as a cinch," he answered.

In Such a Hurry

I'm in such a hurry for the good stuff to get here. The feeling of anticipation feels an awful lot like anxiety, but it's not, it's the thrilled hope that something good is round the corner. But I can't be in hurry. A little bit of patience never killed anyone, did it?

No Man Is An Island

I was turning this over today while struggling not to drown in an aqual class.

As much as I'd rather not be privy to other people's thoughts, sometimes I wish we had more of a shared conciousness. There's so much going on inside our minds, but we stop short of sharing it. It's too personal, or we dismiss it as too silly, or naive. And sometimes the moment just passes.

Yes, occasionally you have a perfect moment of accord.

But that just makes me more sure that we are all islands, isolated inside our minds.

Overheard On A Bus

Chav 1: But never going to get a promotion, yeah? Because I've used up all my leave and all my sick.

Chav 2: But you can come back from that.

Chav 1: Yeah, but not until next year like. But right, I see my sick as leave, right? That's three weeks that I have off yeah?

Chav 2: Yeah, that's true.

Chav 1: And I'm too friendly with the customers like. I tell them right off not to get a credit card. I tell them, don't waste your time. I don't have one.

The Absence of Light

100_1200, originally uploaded by liz_isabella.

Overheard In A Punt

Punter: Wait, is she the one with the weird eye?

Puntee: She does not have a weird eye!

No Wonder Cats Sleep So Much

Today I...

- bought a framed map of the West Coast

- alphabetised my bookshelves

I consider that an extremely good day.

Senor Don Gato

I loved this song but I never learned all the words. Will have to teach it to The Nephew.

My Future Career

A remarkable brainstorming session during lunch today revealed that I should devote myself to developing a hotline for confused readers. Readers across the world would be able call me and ask for advice on what to read next.

Just think! I wouldn't have to prowl around Waterstones, waiting for the furrowed brow of the bamboozled bibliophile. I wouldn't have to lurk, waiting to hear the words, "Do you think this is any good?" No more randomly inserting myself into the conversations of complete strangers, just to recommend my favourite author.

What I'm envisioning is that customers would dial 1 for Fantasy, 2 for Non-Fiction, 3 for Kids, etc. And maybe there could be an and-if-you-still-can't-figure-out-what-you-want option. Dial 8 for random suggestions by our extremely erudite founder and leader.

This idea has merit! Just need to think of a name...

Books Books Books

It's been a shockingly long time since I updated my loyal readers (*coff* Marissa *coff*) on the newest additions to my bookshelves. I've added a lot in recent months, and to be honest, I've been remiss in keeping a list.

So I'll only add:

- The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami (comes recommended as a good Murakami starting point - yes, that's right, it'll be my first)
- Mr Knightley's Diary by Amanda Grange
- Edmund Bertram's Diary by Amanda Grange
- Captain Wentworth's Diary by Amanda Grange

It's not as if I need an excuse to re-read Jane Austen, but this will be a fun way to lead into into it.

Oh yes, and one more.

- The MacKades: Rafe and Jared by Nora Roberts.

No comment.

Goldfish Drama

I don't think I'm cut out for goldfish keeping. It's too stressful! I keep expecting them to peg it at any moment!

Success!

I just won £10 on a scratchcard.

Default Position

My default position has been Table for One for so long, I worry that I'm not able to make the leap to a Table for Two. How do you go from being single to being with someone? I know, I know, there are whole books, movies and dodgy articles in Cosmo devoted to this one topic. But I'm serious. Is being willing to embrace the idea enough? Or will I, heaven forbid, have to be proactive? I'd really much rather sit here and wait.

Foxy

"Am I beng flirted with by a psychotic rat?"
Mrs Fox, Fantastic Mr Fox

Queue Idea

I think that the popcorn queues in cinemas would do better to be arranged in order of how late you are for a given movie.

Queue 1: T-15 minutes

Queue 2: T-5 minutes

Queue 3: The movie has started but you have 20 minutes of trailers to get through so you're probably still ok for time.

Queue 4: The trailers are about to end, grab your popcorn and run.

The Golden Age

After an evening spent watching Roman Holiday and The Shop Around the Corner, I just want to dwell in the world of black and white movies. Surround myself with handsome men wearing hats, and witty quips at the ready. Be swept away by the swelling music, and moved by the passionate kiss at the end. And the happy ending - even though Roman Holiday doesn't actually have one. Movies from the 30s, 40s and 50s are just irresistable. As are Gregory Peck and James Stewart. I've lost my heart to them in particular.