A frustrating day

A day in which I didn't hit my own targets, or meet my own expectations.

Dear Russell Tovey

First off, let me say that I enjoyed you immensely in The History Boys. Great movie, and you were great in it.

Second of all, I loved Being Human. The idea of a ghost, a werewolf and a vampire sharing a house in Bristol was genius. I am an old hand at admiring angsty werewolves, and you did a really good job.

Third, as John Chivery in Little Dorrit, you were quite good. I would have given you higher marks if you would just stop crying.

You cry in everything, did you know that? As trademarks go, do you want blubbing to be yours? Sniff it up, and get on with it!

It's a mystery

I'm not the best detective novel reader in the world, because while I get sucked into the story, I don't usually read along identifying whodunit, or spotting red herrings. But I do enjoy mysteries. And a good crime with a twist is always entertaining. Sherlock Holmes is always a good bet. I haven't read any Agatha Christie, a situation I intend to rectify. I've read some PD James, but I don't love Dalgliesh (not sure why, but I find him a bit wet). Elizabeth George's Lynley books are really great, as is Kathy Reich's Temperance Brennan series. I have absolutely no time for Patricia Cornwall though.

And now I've finally sampled the ambrosia of Dorothy L Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey, and have found myself in a heady netherworld of crime and passion, with a delightful Edwardian English atmosphere. Sorry, got a little carried away there.

Although initially Lord Peter is just a little too foppish to cope with, his character is soon revealed to be intelligent, acerbic and shrewd. The language is really great - lots of intelligent puns and classic references that just make Wimsey stand out even more. And the supporting characters are so well drawn - Bunter especially.

But most of all, the plot is engaging and sucks you in. Arsenic and spiritualism are a brilliant combination. And I'm extra gleeful - there's a whole series of Wimsey left for me to read. I love it when that happens.

Books, books, books

Some new additions to the bookshelves:

The Collected Dorothy Parker - Dorothy Parker
Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
What We Talk About When We Talk About Love - Raymond Carver
Fifteen Tales of Modern Attraction - Alison MacLeod

The last two are short story collections. I covered Raymond Carver in third year English, along with other modern Americans, and fell in love then. That was Where I'm Calling From, so we'll see how Love compares. My friend Cams has been recommending it to me for ages, so on her head be it.

I love short stories, and of all the different forms of writing I've tackled, I enjoy that most. Maybe because there's value in the vignette? Power in the pause? Something special about dipping ever so briefly into a character's life, and then having the story end before you're ready to say goodbye.

My Happiness

I was thinking about their gig the other day so for your listening pleasure, Powderfinger.

Well I think it's funny...

When I took The Sister and The Nephew to a wild fowl park the other day, there was an enclosure of ducks and geese that really tickled my fancy. (Disclaimer: I am inordinately attached to geese - they're grumpy and funny, the misanthropes of the bird world.)

The enclosure was enormous, incorporating at least three of four ponds. But every time someone appeared with a bucket of the food you can buy at the entrance, they came charging down to the fence, honking and quacking and flapping and falling over each other.You can see it here, but be aware that all you can hear is me talking. A lot.

New Slang

For one reason or another, New Slang by The Shins has been in my head a lot lately. I finally rediscovered my Ipod and there it was - the Garden State soundtrack. I love the scene in which New Slang is played - Zac Braff is in a doctor's waiting room with Natalie Portman, who has foisted her earphones on him. He's listening to the song and staring at her with narrowed eyes. She stares back at him intently, watching him listen to a song, watching for his reaction. And his face is filled with an overwhelming sadness.

It's a great movie and it's a great song. I really enjoyed the symmetry of it coming up on the Ipod as I sat in A&E with my feet up on the chair, watching people come and go to the words "I'm looking in on the good life". Unfortunately, Zac and Natalie did not make an appearance.

It's life, Jim, but not as we know it

On Tuesday I went into the chippy around the corner. Not just any chippy - they do fish and chips, Chinese food and kebabs. In order to get my food I was required to have a long chat with the keepers of the counter. They asked me who I was, because they'd never seen me before. They asked where I was living before. They asked why I chose Milton Keynes. They wondered if I knew where the various highlights were located. When I took out my book, they asked me if I was a book person. And if I wanted chips with that.

On Wednesday I trudged past the chippy in the rain and I saw the same two in the window.

Today I returned to said chippy (yes, yes, I know, I know, I'll be healthy again next week). They greeted me with "hey Londoner", said they were going to wave at me yesterday but I looked like I was in a rush, how has my week been, how am I settling in, do I like Milton Keynes, and do I want some chips that?

How does it end?

I've consulted tabloid stars, broadsheet horoscopes and internet predictions. I'll turn over tarot cards, throw apple peel over my shoulder and consult tea leaves - I'll even give coffee grounds a try. I've sat in church and prayed (admittedly not enough), I've lain awake at night and pleaded, I've screwed up my eyes and repeated "Now I lay me", wondering if ending it differently will make it all end differently. I've eyed up the hotlines of phone psychics, I've walked past flea market clairvoyants, I've tossed coins down wishing wells. I'm carrying a St Jude's medal on my keyring but am transferring it to my wallet just in case. I've crossed my fingers and held my thumbs. I'm not standing on cracks, or walking between posts or under arches. But I still don't know how it will end. And if it will all be all right. I just need to know everything will be fine.

It'll be fine.
It'll be fine.
It'll be fine.

I said it three times, that should work.

Maybe if I say it with more feeling.

Please, please let it all be fine.

A truth universally acknowledged

'That is very true,' replied Elizabeth, 'and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine. I dare say I would've cut his throat had not the unmentionables distracted me from doing so.' Pride and Prejudice and Zombies - Seth Grahame-Smith

Dear Sophie Kinsella

I loved Can You Keep a Secret. It was just what I needed after binging on crime fiction. And can I just say that what I enjoyed most about the characters Jack and Emma was that they were both capable of apologising? It was nice to have someone admit they were wrong on paper. God knows, it never happens in real life.

kind regards

A Fan

PS I'll stop comparing you to Cecilia Ahern now. That was an unfair thing to do. I'm sorry.

Burning questions

Is it better to:

1) Eat three courses, enjoying every mouthful and then moving on, so that by the end of the meal you've got lots of different tastes in your mouth?

or

2) Have one course, so that you can savour and enjoy that one dish, and that's what stays with you?

I know I can rush through a meal, so that by the end I can barely recall what I've just eaten. I would like to learn to slow down, to remember to taste and savour everything. But sometimes you just want a dessert. Does that ruin what came before? Does having the chocolate mousse kill the delicate seafood paella? Should I just eat the paella? Or, um, the chocolate mousse?

Dear Nora Roberts

Excellent work switching to a new publishing company. There were far fewer mistakes in Black Hills, which just helped me enjoy the mystery that much more. My only criticism would be that it had some stong similarities to Montana Sky. That said, I did like it. It wasn't a thriller by any means, but it was a good read.

kind regards

A Fan

PS Why did you let Brittany Murphy near your adaptation of Tribute? She's horrible! And can't swing a sledge hammer to save her life.

Horse sushi

Finally - something I won't eat!

Thank you, new co-worker, for killing my usually voracious appetite. When I finally hit the magic 80kg, I'll know who to thank.

Benign neglect

In the last three weeks I have:

* Ended one job

* Moved to a new town

* Been unemployed for a day

* Been re-employed

* Moved again, to a different town

* Hurt my back

* Finished a number of books

* Seen the new Harry Potter movie

* Not updated my blog

I will attempt to do better.

Tempus fugit

Two years ago today I wrote this:

I arrived in England this morning at 6:55 on an overcrowded plane from Johannesburg. Virgin provides so-so food, fantastic entertainment and the smallest economy-class seats ever.

I only told The Sister I was arriving today, so I could make it a surprise for the The Parents. It was worth it to see their faces. And now I'm here. And strangely, it doesn't feel strange at all. I had a pang as the plane landed. "I don't live in South Africa anymore." Maybe as the excitement wears off and I start looking for a job, reality will beat me over the head with a mace. But for now I'm just fine with being excited.

PATTOTE: Better living through world domination. I have to start somewhere.

On the move

Just recently I finally hit a wall at work. It was a shitty arse week, brought on by a million things I had asked to be changed and weren't. I got home at 11 and lay in bed and stared at the ceiling and thought: there has to be more to life than this. There has to be more to life than earning a tiny salary in an expensive city, working at a job I used to love and think I was good at. And then I gave myself a slap for a being an idiot, and remembered that other people's faults are not my faults, or my fault even, and that I have given this job everything and it hasn't measured up and so it's time to move on.

I applied for a job two weeks ago, I went for the interview last Friday and they called this morning. I start at the beginning of July. In Birmingham.

You lose nothing by trying. I'm going to try and live my life, instead of letting my life live me.

The Alphabet Song

Fireman Sam

Mr Darcy carnal desires

This was the google search that led someone in India to this blog.

How?

PATTOTE: Better living through porn with literary merit.