And I love the tumblr from whence it came: .la douleur exquise.
Home 
I spent the last few days with Dominic and his family, which was lovely as it always is. We baked a cake yesterday (something to add to D.’s limited cooking skill set 
), the sweetest and richest and chocolatiest thing I have ever eaten in my entire life. It was nice though, and fun and kind of educational and I got to push cocoa powder in Dominic’s face I was offered a slice to bring home but I think I would have squashed it to death and besides, I reckon it would be much better treated left where it is.
It was weird coming back to Cofton. Everything is Christmassy – I was guided home through the foliage by the light from Ron&Shirley’s exuberant house decorations. Getting home alone was also quite amusing – One Measly Girl and her Hefty Suitcase fighting the combined forces of suburban pavement leaf, distinct lack of street light and the disarming force of gravity. I missed our buses as well. The bus driver was a bit of a rebel and revved his engine at the lights and didn’t tell me I’d overpaid. There was also this cute but kind of weird old lady who looked like a button and smelled of tea tree. Lovelove public transport
Now, dinner, cooked by my mum
Hello blog, old friend.
Finally, finally I am done for Christmas (currently ignoring those two holiday essays, but they’re for English Lit. and they’re interesting and I’m quite looking forward to writing them – who doesn’t like a bit of a poetic female corpse?). That beautiful relief hasn’t quite kicked in yet and my mind is still running over and over and over (Pack!Travel!Money!Christmas!), but little trickles of my impending freedom are starting to penetrate this saturated brain of mine. I was going to go out drinking with Laura and Anneka tonight but have this minute decided it is officially not going to happen. Instead I’m going to shower, eat yoghurt, sit in bed and watch Sex and the City. I think, for once, I deserve it.
It’s weird with Christmas this year. I’m looking forward to it so, so much more than I was last year. I have no idea what I was playing at last December but being festive just did not happen for me. I instead delighted in feeling sorry for myself, moping and sleeping off the internal damage I had done being a first term Fresher. This year, I dunno. I feel different, happier, safer, more secure. Able to enjoy myself without getting stupidly drunk or staying stupidly sober. And I’m just quite looking forward to being at home, in all honesty
(I am not, however, looking forward to dragging all of my stuff onto the stupid train. I better be super-muscular by the end of it.)
Believe it or not, I’m not feeling so wordy at the moment. I think what became the lukewarm experience of NaNoWriMo (entirely my own fault – I couldn’t really afford the both feet necessary for jumping right in with) plus essays plus reading until my eyes burned plus vainly trying to keep up with my blog plus all this general ‘writing stuff down’ I seem to do has taken its toll. Good job I do a degree that involves quite a lot of pictures, non?
I normally go about life collecting words and quotes and rhymes and stuff (that’s another thing that has suffered in my English overdose – where is my poetic brain, I ask of you? Spent in trying to mould my NaNo language into the style I enjoy writing in and not bare bare bones. I’m sorely tempted next year to do 50 poems instead, or an anthology, or an epic, or something equally as unattainable and potentially foolish.) but now have reverted to collecting pictures like a caveman or something. They’re all Alice in Wonderland-y too, or pictures of pretty cakes or of the interior of the Hagia Sophia. (I’m going through that phase where I see my life as if I was a character in a sepia novel again. It usually precedes the particularly weird and emotionally extreme Virginia Woolf phases, which probably aren’t as romantic and usually end up with me doing embarrassing drunk things. Such is life.)
I am so intensely over NaNoWriMo. It’s not that I have no idea where my story is going (in fact, it’s very much the opposite! Paul is starting to get creepy – creepy is good – and Carol still has *no idea* and we’re beginning to learn how he’s been a bit of a naughty boy in his past…) it’s just that I can’t really be bothered to sit down and write when that’s all I’ve really been doing all day. I’m just too tired to get the words onto paper.
Nevertheless, all is not lost. I have realised that I was being slightly over-ambitious and I’m realistically not going to be able to get to 50,000 words by the end of this month. I’m not quite at the point where I feel this is OK, but I am confident I’ve made a good go and should definitely get some significant way there before the time is up. And what I need to keep telling myself is that I have got quite a lot of good stuff written here.. even I don’t ever find time to finish this novel (which would be a shame – lots of investment now!) bits and pieces will surely be of merit to other stuff. It has also taught me that I can write, and I can write quickly and in volume. So, all in all good but the guilt of my probable inability to finish (damn uni, damn life!) is overbearing right now.
And I miss this blog, man. I’m reading New Moon because I borrowed it a very long time ago and have yet to even attempt to read it. I know I am very, very mean about the Twilight books but it’s really just bitterness that I came to them five or six years too late. I bet I would have loved them with my whole teenage heart aged 14. They also provide the kind of mindless, trashy, easy-to-read escapism chick lit does without the whole gaudy pink cover thing. Positives all round.
Just a note to anyone who reads me alone and not all of my other prolific blog friends: YOU MUST READ ABBI’S NOVEL. Donate, read, laugh, cry, enjoy. Better than New Moon and one of my favourite things about NaNo so far this year. You will not be disappointed. If you are, you are most possibly emotionally stunted. AND you will be doing a good turn, is there anything less win-win? Go here to find out more.
I felt incredibly shy posting any of my NaNoWriMo novel here because a) it is so, so awful and b) I am in so much awe of Abbi’s (it even has its own song in my head!). So today I decided that the last thing I write before I call it a night will make it – unedited – onto my blog for y’all to read. I’ve called it a night. Check it:
The sky was entirely cloudless, the air thick like maple syrup. It was one of those days where little specks of dust hang and dance in the breeze. Paul lay on the grass, hands behind his head, looking up at two birds wheeling around each other in the bare sky. The grass smelt nice, sweet.
“Paul, look!”
He leapt up, scrambling through the lawn, green patches on his knees and elbows. His dad loved this lawn. It was so perfectly mown.
“Look, the fish!” She held up the goldfish by its tail, laughing wildly, opened mouth, head thrown back. “I just picked it right out of the water!”
So much life.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you pull the fish out of the pond? It might die. It can’t breathe air.”
“Paul, shush! Look! Hahaha!”
Paul watched her, pond water dribbling down her arm, making tracks in her freckled skin. She was wearing shorts; they were probably his. She was skinny enough. The fish was twitching crazily in her fingers, suffocating. Its scales caught the light beautifully, flickering like Christmas candles. It matched her hair, like spun gold, electric and gaudy, like tinsel. His eyes focused on the fish, flapping flapping. He watched it die. He imagined what it would be like to run out of breath forever, push past that point when you’re nearly purple and your mouth bursts open for the cool air.
“Young lady! Put that back right now, else I’ll get your father on you as soon as he’s home!” Their mother came rushing out of the house making a beeline for the pond. She chased her daughter around the garden, like a big housewife from a cartoon trying to catch a mouse or a stray cat or a sprite. Clumsy against quicksilver, dark against light, Goliath against David. A giant and a nymph. Paul sat in the grass, prickly against his bare legs, watched them chase each other, watched his sister win every time, the fish still dangling between her sharp little fingers. It was too late, it was long dead but it was the principle. Their mother would not be able to tell their father this. There would be hell to pay later. That skinny little girl in her brother’s shorts would be spanked, and her brother would watch but all he would think about was the limp fish like a fleshy jewel, dead but so, so beautiful. As his sister fought with his parents, scratched them and bit them and screamed as if they were trying to kill her, he strained his tiny fingers up to the kitchen counter. The fish lay there on a tissue; no-one had thought to do anything with it until after they’d punished the criminal. Paul wanted to touch it, wanted to know what it felt like. Was it cold? Was it slimy? It was so bright. It couldn’t breathe. His sister had killed it. He could hear her crying. He wanted to touch it.
Hope it’s going well (ie. better than it’s going for me) all you NaNoers!
Because I’m proud, because I had a request and because some of you won’t see them on Facebook:
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- Myself as the Ice Queen from Narnia, Kate as Uma Therman in Pulp Fiction and Anneka as an evil porcelain doll
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- My costume! Ignore the messy living room, it is definitely not always like that
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- Everyone minus me.
You know your friends are cool when they don’t dress up as sexy vampires, sexy witches or the sexy Devil on Hallowe’en, but Medusa, a porcelain doll, a skull-faced flamenco girl from a Spanish death festival, the Queen of Hearts, Lady Macbeth, Boy George and Uma Therman in Pulp Fiction. I am writing this currently dressed as the Ice Queen from Narnia complete with fully white face paint, blue glitter and a white feather boa. Dressing up is taken very seriously here.
1. Do you like blue cheese? I don’t think I’ve ever tried it. I’m up for doing so, though.
2. Have you ever smoked heroin? No and don’t plan to.
3. Do you own a gun? No. They are a symbol of the entirety of human weakness.
4. What flavor do you add to your drink at Starbucks? I’ve never, ever been to Starbucks. It is a symbol of the entirety of human weakness
5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Yes only because I never know what to say without sounding very weird and that I’m convinced I’m about to die (I probably still sound like that because I actually am convinced I’m about to die as soon as I step through the door of the surgery.)
6. What do you think of hot dogs? Nice but not as nice as other things. Quite difficult to eat. Would prefer an easy-to-grasp, familiar burger.
7. Favourite Christmas movie? Love Actually. Yeah I know punch me in the face but I actually can’t get enough of that cheese.
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Juice. Yummy.
9. Can you do push ups? Haven’t really tried.
10. What’s your favourite piece of jewellery? Hmm I am not really so evaluative. The things I wear all the time are the rope bracelet from Katy, my Leeds band thing, another beady rope bracelet thing Lou brought me back from Wales and the bracelet / prayer rope Sanna gave me. And usually a pair of earrings.
11. Favorite hobby? Travelling.
12. Do you have A.D.D? No. Quite the opposite.
13. What’s one trait you hate about yourself? Impatience.
14. Middle name? Elizabeth.
15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? I am wasting time. I am wasting time. I am wasting time.
16. Name 3 things you bought yesterday? Hmm if you count yesterday as being from 12am, alcoholic beverages, a bus ticket and a pizza.
17. Name 3 things you drink daily: Squash. It is all I drink. I do occasionally have juice or smoothie if I can afford it.
18. Current worry? That I am wasting time and have a lot of stuff to do, including going to Sainsbury’s ugh.
19. Current dislike? Going to Sainsbury’s.
20. How did you bring in the New Year? I can’t remember. Drinking gin with a barely pubescent boy and killing more than a few braincells.
21. Where would you like to go? To Birmingham.
22. Name three people who will complete this: All my friends have pretty much done this. Andy would have done it if he still had a blog, Josie might, Dom?
23. Do you own slippers? Yes. They are cows and I love them so much.
24. What shirt are you wearing? Green vest.
25. [Missing apparently]
26. Favorite colour[s]? Orange, yellow and lilac.
27. Could you be a pirate? No. I’m scared of the sea.
28. What songs do you sing in the shower? I don’t sing in the shower. If I did it’d be karaoke classics.
29. Favourite food? Everything. No, really.
30. What’s in your pocket right now? Imaginary money that I can pretend to buy things with.
31. Last thing that made you laugh? When Laura thought I poked her in the bum but it was actually the sofa. Simple things.
32. Favourite sheets? Don’t have that much of a preference. My favourite bed item is my padded flowery blanket.
33. Worst injury you have ever had? When I chopped the end of my finger off at work.
34. Do you love where you live? I love the place I live only when I’m away. Hence the constant desire to move.
35. How many TVs do you have in your house? 1. It is a monstrosity but allows me to watch beautiful, beautiful things like True Blood and MasterChef.
36. Who is your loudest friend? Loud as in outgoing or loud as in volume? In either case I don’t really know. My friends all seem to be on the same kind of level.
37. How many dogs do you have? None. I used to have a Labrador but, inevitably, he died.
38. Does someone have a crush on you? Yeah.
39. What are your favourite book(s): I hate this question so I’m not going to answer it.
40. What is your favourite candy? I don’t really like it. I like yoghurts? They’re sweet?
41. Favourite Sports Water: Water?
42. What songs do you want played at your funeral? Don’t care. I’m not gonna be there.
43. What were you doing 12 AM last night? Very probably reading Sanna’s version of this. If not, reading something else probably in paper form.
44. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke this morning? Oh ffs the landlord is here. When will he stop creating excuses to come round here, I promise his house is still standing.
45. Favourite place to be? My bed, sunny London with Dom, Lou’s house, the Visitor Centre with Josie.
A List of Things that REALLY Annoy Me:
- WordArt. It is just honestly the most horrendous, ugly, poorly used, disastrous thing I have ever seen. I think I’d rather write a title using my own blood than be forced to head my page with hideous squiggly blue Times New Roman eyesores or a garish rainbow with a grew shadow. It is just wrong, on every level, and if any shop, company or person tries to advertise to me using posters lovingly crafted using the slanted words of Hell I will immediately withdraw my custom. (OK, irrational but it clearly stems from my idea that anyone who has a business and still decides to use glaring symbols from Microsoft Word instead of a proper, branded poster is very unprofessional. Oh and the fact that it takes about 0.5 seconds to do. And that it is just fundamentally UGLY.)
- Comic Sans. See above for all justification. At least with this font I can kind of envisage a use for it, else it would definitely be number 1.
- Slow People. OK, so I am not the fastest person in the universe, and I really have no problem with people strolling in suitable strolling locations such as a park, or a wide pavement, or a gallery / library. I also don’t have a problem with people who are just naturally slow, like old people, children or Lou. I do have a gigantic problem with people who seem to believe that the middle of a train platform, or the bottom of an escalator, or in front of a doorway are excellent places to slow down, have a little rest, meander slightly. This is just not true, guys. And yes, it is always me who gets stuck behind people who think standing still is a suitable speed for daily progression. Come on, if I can see a frail old man going as fast as he can however hard it might be, you can at least be a little speedier or if this is impossible, tie your shoelace in a place that the entire world does not need to walk through.
I got locked out today because my key decided it was too much effort to open the door and just flopped under the pressure. Hence this blog was born.
