The Latin for Light

ANNOUNCEMENT

2009-09-03T23:06:00.001+01:00

My 200th post is being used to tell you I am not going to be using this blog anymore, sorry! See why over at http://thelatinforlight.wordpress.com/

Don't beat me.

2009-09-03T17:20:00.002+01:00

I really don't know why I'm so tired today. As soon as I got home from waving goodbye to Dominic, I tidied the bed away, dragged my quilt back upstairs to my own room and collapsed under it. However beautiful it was to see Dom and however much fun I had, I think not giving myself any time to properly recover from Leeds has had the same effect as delaying a hangover does. Ugh!

Still, I wouldn't have changed this last week for the world. Despite Andy and I feeling we were perhaps three years too late for the whole 'let's get drunk 24 hours a day' Leeds campsite thing, it was certainly fun and - even though I HATE this word, it really is the only suitable one - random. I walked over the park after catching the bus home, smelly and achy and tired, and remarked at how empty 'real life' is (no high-fives from a group of men dressed as a Jamaican bob-sleigh team? no Oasis songs at 3.30am? no middle-class rich kids vomiting after a mid-morning Ring of Fire match? no poo songs and vagina jokes from nearby tents?) and how grass is actually really quite green, not brown. Fun times!

So yeah, I'm going to spend the rest of the day reading and watching trash TV and ordering this week's events in my mind. Ahh :)

Lucy

xxx

Twitter

2009-08-26T18:19:00.004+01:00

About 2 minutes ago I learnt that 'ThaBookie' was following me on Twitter. It is an account that attempts to recommend a book to a Twitter user based on one of their Tweets, and had '@lmason17'-ed me 3 days ago. It recommened me 'The Hour I First Believed'. I don't know which Tweet it had used, how, why or whatever, I was just kinda unnerved.

I'm going to give it a try, however, because it wasn't what I thought it was and looks quite good. (And I'm steering well clear of Belief in its various twisty forms right now. I feel quite exhausted by the whole long and winding road.)

I forgot my keys today, and what a *stress* that turned into!

Lucy

xxx

2009-08-23T17:13:00.001+01:00

I have a weird obsession with this song, but what on earth is the video? Not feeling the airport escalator-esque hover the girl has going on.

Home

2009-08-23T12:59:00.005+01:00

It seems that when I was bloggily inspired, a good few people on my reading list were going through a dry spell. Now, as my Blogs To Read pile starts growing again, my search for interesting/readable/barely acceptable blog ideas is going particularly badly. Maybe it's laziness, because I could very easily write about the time I spent in Brighton (our house is so gorgeous and liveable! I put the apples I bought in the empty fruitbowl as opposed to the fridge so everything would begin to look lived-in), but I'm sure it would be exceptionally boring to read. In truth, we didn't really do anything except go out the odd night and lounge around. The only exceptional thing was seeing everyone again, spending time with the people I lived with (and practically lived with) last year, reminiscing and chatting and watching documentaries, and I found it's really hard to grasp simple things like that and force them into words.

Talking of uni things reminds me of this time last year, and exams and school and stuff (school really seems like an absolute lifetime ago - was it really only last year?!). I did think of all the people I know who got their results the other day, and it seems I surround myself with wildly impressive and intelligent people! Hurrah for me :P

Oh and it's only a very small amount of time until I go to Leeds Festival. Kinda nervous I'll get raped/mugged/die, BUT do believe I will have the best time of my life, ever. I am a festival virgin though, so any of you veterans I know are out there want to give me some 'only known through experience' tips, they will be more than welcome!

Lucy

xxx

EDIT: I forgot to add that I am effectively biting my nails to the quick over NaNoWriMo already.

In Brighton

2009-08-19T17:44:00.002+01:00

Guess what? I'm in Brighton, in my lovely, cool, light, yellow-kitchened new house, yay! So good to see my university friends again, even though not everyone is here yet :) *gushgushgush*

I really don't have that much else to say. Good luck to everyone who is getting their results tomorrow!

Wow. This was possibly the worst post I have ever written. Long live the Golden Age of Blogging, hey? ;)

Lucy

xxx

Samstag

2009-08-15T21:53:00.003+01:00

Oh I am so frustrated with this stupid laptop of mine. It is NOT allowed to die on me this close to me buying a new cable for it, notnotnot allowed at all. I'm writing this on a painfully old version of Internet Explorer as some weird Service Pack is refusing to downloading and I am getting unmistakably petulant. Why, Dominic, did you have to go on holiday this week?! I need your technological brain! My brain is wobbly and fluffy round the edges (and impatient...) and definitely does not work in cogs and keys and motherboards. Bah! Bah! Bah!

Anything else? I miss London and desperately want an excuse to visit in September. I miss how you can get lost there but still not get lost. The beauty of it! How exciting and free it is when I step off the train - I could go anywhere, be anyone, do anything at all - and I really do miss it, embarrassingly. I'd be there this weekend, I know it, if I had a reason or even a place to stay. But no, no. Instead I heard about how my mum would marry Martin on a beach (if at all) and bought a gift for someone in Waterstone's, and am now sitting with a glass of wine, my mum and Colin Firth for Pride and Prejudice yet again! Finished We Were the Mulvaneys too, with a multitude of mixed opinions about it. A large emotional undertaking, maybe too large.

Love to you all,
Lucy
xxx

Back Online

2009-08-14T18:34:00.002+01:00

So I'm alive, and I've got a working laptop again, and I'm happy. Dominic and I spent last night and this morning flicking through photos of my youth as a baby, a toddler, aged 4, 7, 9, 11. If I had a scanner (or even a damn printer, or anything remotely useful) I'd put them on my blog so you can see me, and see how my brother was ten times cuter than I was, and how I was forever a fashion faux pas, and how I had the same haircut until, well, now.

So excited for Brighton :)

Lucy
xxx

2009-08-11T14:58:00.003+01:00

On cable loan again, squeezing in chances to reply to everyone on Facebook (why is it that when I was technologically able my social networking life was dusty and dead, but now I have to scramble madly to get on the computer - oh so dependent :P - everyone leaves me messages?) and Twitter and catch up on blogs and write ones myself.

Introspective, today. It's gorgeous outside but earlier I felt spiteful and mean and that always leads me to barricade myself into my room, to read and write and growl at people who will never even hear of it - and don't deserve it - when what would really help would be a walk, or a phone call or something along those lines. It's been creeping up on me for a few days, and I always seem to believe that being cheery and bright (and fake-ish) will make me want to lash out less, but it doesn't. It only makes me even more desperate to just be really, really cutting, and regret it a few hours later (in those minutes where I don't regret it, I feel gloriously horrible and that 'justice' has been done - this is the bit I most regret). And it only struck me today - so late!- that it's jealousy. The rages (these are the ones that no-one sees, that remind me scarily of the anger I had when I was younger) and the sense of being hard-done-by and the spite is all because I Am Jealous and can't even understand it. For I am not a Jealous Person - really - and this is honest and not immodest at all. I have many bad qualities, and envy is so very rarely on the list that when it is I barely recognise it. Has it always been jealousy? Has it, for all these months and all these nights of grinding my teeth and crying to myself, always just been that one emotion? My fault? Damn. I guess I am actually going to have to start being accountable.
It's not all the time though. It's actually hardly ever - most of the time I am absolutely fine. And they're short too, these bursts. But goddamnit-goddamnit they're so annoying and so all-encompassing and swallow me up until I don't actually want to be nice!
But I do want to be nice now, this afternoon, and I'm not jealous any more, not right now.

EDIT: Man I am such an emo o_O

Something for the weekend

2009-08-09T20:55:00.002+01:00

So. Much. Fatigue. (I seriously get tired too much, maybe there is something wrong with me?) Had a lovely, sunny day with Josie & Scrappy on the Lickeys, came home to a house bursting at the seams with delicious food so I now feel full and round.

Stayed up too late reading various literary delights. I know at least one of you people out there behind your computer screens likes Joyce Carol Oates, and that a least two of you have read something by her. I dug deep in my pile of Unread Novels (incredibly high, quite mysterious, often intimidating, full of long-forgotten purchases) and found a copy of 'We Were the Mulvaneys' from a charity shop. Decided to give it a try. Sapped a good few hours before I even knew it, and is distressing me beyond all comfort. I suppose that is the sign of a masterful book BUT I am so used to reading things that keep me warm and fuzzy, and I have a sneaking suspicion that this will not do that for me. Still, these passages reminded me of guess who?:

"There was a way he had of leaning his elbows on the table...and shoving out his lower lip, his warrior-stance in Debate Club at school, and saying, "Oh Mom! Come on! Let's examine this rationally. It could not have been 'fireflies' in a blizzard in December. Ple-ease."
...
Mom was laughing, but you could see by the glisten in her eyes she was getting miffed.
Yet Patrick persisted. Mike might kick his ankle under the table, Marianne might poke him in the ribs and tease "Pinch!", but Patrick couldn't stop. There was something wonderful in the hot harried look in his eyes..."

~

"The chunky black altimeter/barometer/"illuminator" sports watch he wore day, night, awake, asleep, removing only when he showered though in fact the watch...was guaranteed waterproof - of course."

I really miss uni right now - made the mistake of looking back on old photos from last year.

Lucy
xxx

Flash number ?

2009-08-07T21:09:00.002+01:00

Lily was a little girl. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes and rosy apple-shaped cheeks. She was sweet, and cute, and bright, and played to the adults sitting - knees crossed and mumbling - in their cloud of cigarette smoke. She sang rhyming songs about birds and bees and butterflies in a high, clear voice, and she danced the dances she had been taught as they sat in a ring and applauded her, flushed of face and word. She sat on the men’s knees and on their laps and in their arms, and knew when to blush and giggle and bat her eyelids, and knew when to spring off if a tipsy, hairy hand made its way too far north, and knew how to use their love against them. And most of all she knew what was OK and what was not, for her daddy had told her that some of his friends were jolly and kind, but also that they were selfish and jealous and wanted her as their daughter. She was to give those men most of her smiles and winks, dance closest to their chairs and tables of cards, to listen to them most closely, but to never accept an invite, for their houses were not nice at all.

Lily was a beautiful woman. Her hair was still long but no-one ever saw this because she pinned it up in golden waves and dusted it with jewels. She was tall, and slim, and had heavy hips and breasts that she swung slightly in the eyes of those staring. She lived alone in a tall, city house with chandeliers and thick patterned carpets, and walked from room to room touching the dark, warm wood on the walls and doors. Her favourite colour was red, and she painted her lips brightly and wetly in red, and she dressed in red silk and satin and velvet, and her nails were pointed and red. Men in tuxedoes with roses and handkerchiefs said she was dangerous, manipulative, cruel. They all tutted and sighed about her with their pale pink, peach, fleshy wives, they listened to the rumours and spread them around. They imagined her naked. They asked her to dinner. But Lily never accepted their invites, for their houses were not nice at all.

Lily did not have a husband. Many men had visited her house with gold and diamonds and velvet boxes, and had bent down in front of her so they had shiny patches on their knees, but they always left clutching their jewels close to their hearts. Some were tall and lean and rich, and oiled their hair and grew thin moustaches like the flick of a pen. They spoke over their noses and said bad things about women, said they were stupid and weak, but used long words and backwards sentences to hide what they thought. Their eyes pressed on her curves just like she was used to, but what made them burn was the way her breasts framed the rubies dripping down her chest, and the way her thighs would press and fill the rare, exotic cloth. They wanted wealthy wives, pretty wives, quiet wives and she was all of those things. They wanted to lock her up in the back bedroom and get her pregnant, but Lily did not want this too for their houses were not nice at all.

Some men were young and handsome and charming, and they loved her with all their hearts. They wore beautiful clothes and grew their hair to their shoulders so it curled round their jaws in a sensual way. They sent roses to her door if they were poor and necklaces with red stones in if they were rich, but she always sent them back. They wrote her poems and letters and sketched her, and they sat outside her window singing songs of the love that had set them on fire, but her smile never broke and her tears never came and her heart remained a box without a key. But Lily knew it was all vanity, and they soon got tired and cold and wet and rushed away at the call of a lady locked in a back bedroom, for those ladies’ houses were not nice at all.

Some men were fat and old and greedy, and they had white hair and red faces and broad, toothy grins. They remembered Lily when she was a little girl and reminded her of how she had once sat on his lap, and look at him now, who would have thought he would get so rich? Lily remembered them too, and she always gave them most of her smiles and winks, danced closest to their chairs and tables of cards, listened to them most closely as her daddy had told her to do for he was clever, and knew before the men did that one day they would be so rich, but he was dead now and Lily did not have to obey him any more. Still, she never did accept their invites to their parlours and their dinner tables and their beds, for they way they ate made her feel uncomfortable, and she knew what it felt like to feel them excite themselves beneath her legs, and after all, their houses were still not nice at all.

Lily was in love. She was not allowed to love the person that she did, for that person was poor. That person wore a black dress, and an apron, and dusted and polished and wiped and tutted at Lily about the dirt that the outside men brought in with them. The person was plump, and bright, and her cheeks were Lily’s favourite shade of red. And Lily gave her flowers, and wrote her poems, and copied all of the best men except that she never told the person that she loved her. She let the flowers die in a vase, she let the poems burn in the fireplace, she let the men believe she loved them as the person served them pudding. But Lily dreamt of kissing her, and dreamt of cupping her heart-shaped face in her hands, and sometimes wished she was a man so the person could love her back. She would have been the best man that ever was known and never have made a mistake. But Lily didn’t know, as we all do, that she loved this person for her house. It was very nice indeed, for it was Lily’s own.

One day Lily’s love was sad, and shocked, and sick. She had seen the petal of a rose on the floor, as if it were hovering across the dark, warm floor. It was the brightest of reds, deep and thick. A man must have been, she thought, a man with hair the right length and clothes the right shape and words the right fit. She was glad, for she liked happy endings and she liked things to go as they should. But, she noticed, there was not just one petal from one rose. There were many petals from many roses, as much as a bunch, scattered on the floor and on the carpets and up, up, up the stairs to the bedroom like droplets of a lady’s blood. She smiled, and knew what it was like to be kissed by a man you think you love. She followed the petals, and scooped them up, and knocked on her mistress’s door. Inside she saw hundreds of roses in piles and piles, and their thorns scratched her ankles and they snagged at her clothes and they threatened to pull her down and were red. And Lily hung from the ceiling and her fingers brushed the dark, warm wood and her bare feet touched the petals of hundreds of roses. And she had written a letter, and she wrote who she loved and she proved she could be the best man that ever was known. But she made a mistake, for the servant did not love her back and would not shed a tear, but was sad for her job and the house where she lived, for she knew it was nicest of all.

Finally a bit of creative writing not related to the same old same old. The above woman has been stalking me, bah.
Had a nice day! My laptop cable finally gave up and passed away this evening. This may end up being either horrible or liberating. I predict horrible.

Love, xxx

Mini-post

2009-08-06T19:17:00.003+01:00

CREATIVE BURST. 'The Book of Lost Things' is inspiration, as is the rain and recent events and the way that at the moment I am prone to fits of sadness when not entertained by others frequently enough. I'm going to write a short story about a girl and a tree, although what happens in it completely I don't know yet. Bring on the notebook! *dusts off*

-

I got a funny, lovely little postcard from L&A today. They're in Wales, and offered me two separate events involving much drinking and hilarity. I love those guys.

And you, too.
Lucy
xxx

On my bed

2009-08-05T21:18:00.005+01:00

Bonjour! I am back from busy busy busy-ness all over England, feeling much saner and much more at peace than I was when I last wrote. It's funny how doing more, having a crowded schedule and rushing from here to there and back again calms me completely instead of causing me stress. There is so much to write about too, people and places and events and trains and a hotel room with a gorgeous view across Liverpool, almost panoramic. At night I pulled open the curtains and we sat in the darkness looking at the tops of buildings: the spire against the golden-orange clocks of the Royal Liver Building (which was so 1920s America!) and the modern, sophisticated glassiness of the corporate buildings. We could even see the waterfront.

I'm in a reading rather than a writing mood, sorry, so this is it for now. My laptop cable is breaking, too, which is highly unhelpful and VERY ANNOYING.

Lucy
xxx

EDIT: Oh, and I did want to mention that it was crazy humid today. Eugh.

Mad

2009-07-30T23:43:00.004+01:00

"A very sad existence indeed is a human life that has been reduced to utility and emptied of beauty."

I'm in a really odd, swinging mood today. Kind of volatile and extreme. I know why: I haven't left the house in too long, just sat and read and surfed the Internet and did puzzles and chatted to my mum as she nursed her bad back. It did me good to get to Lou's tonight, and I'm not surprised Katy thought we were drunk from our texts. We were completely sober, I was just mildly hysterical and bouncing with nervous energy.

This is why I'm really glad to be getting away this weekend. I'm excited about the plans - especially the ones I've made for Sunday - but mostly I just need to leave. To move, and travel, and see the world slip away from a window. I usually don't even care what my destination is, although I can't deny I have my preferences ;)
Insatiable wanderlust is an expensive, time-consuming and unavoidable trait to have, people, and it's times like these when I can feel the cabin fever madness washing in that I wish I was more of a home bird.

Oh but I do love coming home to lots of new blog posts to read :)

Lucy
xxx

I've Been Tagged!

2009-07-28T18:35:00.003+01:00

Yet another meme from my little blog circle. Pick the 15 books that stuck with me? Go f'rit..

1. The Collector, John Fowles
2. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
3. Anne Frank's Diary, Anne Frank (obv)
4. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood
5. Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
6. The Color Purple, Alice Walker
7. White Teeth, Zadie Smith
8. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
9. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
10. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
11. Discworld Series, Terry Pratchett
12. Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
13. The Narnia Series, C. S. Lewis
14. The Amber Spyglass, Philip Pullman
15. Harry Potter x7, J. K. Rowling

There are about 5 or 10 more that really could have made it here (and I'll probably regret not including them later), but the idea was to charge these titles out quickly, so I did just that.

~

Talking of books, the Man Booker Prize longlist was e-mailed to me today. It includes authors I quite like (A. S. Byatt for one), so I'm going to launch a little blog feature (because I have a lot of spare time that SHOULD be filled with a wage-earning job, but that is definitely the topic for another, lengthy post *eye roll*) and read and review each book on it. Probably boring to read, but fun for me ;) Of course, this depends on the questionable reliability of the public library system in my local area..

Watching Futurama. Why on Earth do I not do this more often?!

Lucy
xxx

EDIT: The new edition of Lesbians from the Past is on the Man Booker longlist! Wahey!

Really Loved This Quiz

2009-07-26T21:38:00.002+01:00

Thanks, Saoirse!

1. For a person you loved deeply, would you be willing to move to a distant country knowing there would be little chance of seeing your friends or family again?
Yus! I think I'd be like oh isn't this exciting and romantic and adventurous! Anything for a good blog post.

2. Do you believe in ghosts and evil spirits? Would you be willing to spend a night alone in a remote house that is supposedly haunted?
I do not believe in ghosts BUT I would not be able to stay in a 'haunted house'. I have a pleasing mixture of an overactive imagination, frequent superstitious tendencies and a constant, lingering fear of nothing in particular. Lucy + things that are allegedly haunted = terror. And I do not sleep alone. Eugh.

3. If you could spend one year in perfect happiness but afterward would remember nothing of the experience, would you do so?
Of course!

4. If a new medicine was developed that would cure arthritis but cause a fatal reaction in 1% of those who took it, would you want it to be released to the public?
Yep.

5. You discover your wonderful 1 yr old child is, because of a mixup at the hospital, not yours. Would you want to exchange the child to try to correct the mistake?
No man! I'm sure the other family will be pretty chuffed with their / my original child, so I'd let the kid know it's not mine, but no exchange please.

6. Do you think the world will be a better or a worse place 100 years from now?
Probably exactly the same balance of bad and good, as always. Although tbf, probably really, really hot.

7. Would you rather be a member of a world championship team or be the champion of an individual sport? What sport would you choose?
A team, because the feeling of sharing something in unison with other people and winning together is absolutely amazing (and because I'm probably the least sporty person ever to walk [or sit around on] the Earth, I'm basing this on being in an orchestra / in a band and not being in a sports team).

8. Would you accept $1 million to leave the country and never set foot in it again?
Umm of course. Especially if I could choose my destination.

9. Which sex do you think has it easier in our culture? Have you ever wishes you were of the opposite sex?
Pfft, men have it so much easier. But saying that, we can flutter eyelashes and get someone to open a jar for us without losing face. Maybe it's easier to be a girl after all... :P [DOMINIC: If you mention the pickled egg incident I am going to be this pleased: not very.]

10. You are given the power to kill people simply by thinking of their deaths and twice repeating the word “goodbye.” People would die a natural death and no one would suspect you. are there any situations in which you would use this power?
No, I really don't think I could do this. Even if they were evil and had hurt me or my loved ones of the world to an endless degree, it would probably ruin my life.

11. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the body or the mind of a 30 yr old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?
MIND. A hundred times over. Losing your mind is like death before death.

12. What would constitute a “perfect” evening for you?
A beautiful, warm golden sunset, a perfectly balanced friendship group, eating a meal we all prepared together outside, wearing a dress I love and feel comfortable and pretty in, playing silly party games, getting slowly and contentedly tipsy on a really nice red wine, going to bed with someone I love at the end of it. Someone else to clean up.

13. Would you rather be extremely successful professionally & have a tolerable yet unexciting private life, or have an extremely happy private life and only a tolerable and uninspiring professional life?
Happy private life, dude. And then there is always something to make you smile in a crappy job.

14. Whom do you admire most? In what way does that person inspire you?
Oh dearie me. Jesus? :P Heh, no. In all honesty, everyone I surround myself with in my life inspires me. I admire all my friends and my family, and I could write a list explaining how for every single person I know, but that would probably only be so I could prove to y'all that I'm not just being a big, fat cliche :P I draw with people in mind, I write with people in mind. Thus, everyone inspires me.

15. If at birth you could select the profession your child would eventually pursue, would you do so?
No, of course not :S

16. Would you be willing to become extremely ugly physically if it meant you would live for 1,000 years at any physical age you chose?
I can't think of anything I'd less rather do than live for 1,000 years.

17. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one ability or quality, what would it be?
Hmm. Honestly? Patience, or charisma. I lack both, and both are important for different things. I am in some desperate need of patience for myself, and I want to be charismatic on a purely selfish level :P Oh and maybe the ability to write kickass blogs and be super famous on the blogosphere!

18. You have the chance to meet someone with whom you can have the most satisfying love imaginable- the stuff of dreams. Sadly, you know that in 6 months the person will die. Knowing the pain that would follow, would you still want to meet the person and fall in love?
Umm of course. Makes amazing poetry fodder. And I could take very dashing photos to express myself, and make a scrap book, blog it and be super famous on the blogosphere :P (Seriously now, yeah I would want to meet them :P)

19. What if you knew your lover would not die, but instead would betray you?
I'd get over it. I must specify though, I would not want to meet them if this love affair is a totally one-sided, infatuation kinda thing. Not really into that.

20. If you knew of a way to use your estate, following your death, to greatly benefit humanity, would you do it and leave only a minimal amount to your family?
Yes! Silly. My family would understand.

21. Do you prefer being around men or women? Do your closest friends tend to be men or women?
My closest friends usually end up being women, but one of my dearest, oldest friends is a guy so I don't think it matters to me so much. And maybe I prefer being around women, just so I can complain about periods without getting the panicked, blank look.

22. If you could use a voodoo doll to hurt anyone you chose, would you?
No.

23. While on a trip to another city, your spouse (or lover) meets and spends the night with an exciting stranger. Given that they will never meet again, and that you will not otherwise learn of the incident, would you want your partner to tell you about it?
Yep. I think I'd find it quite interesting, and once I'd established he now did not have some horrid genital disease, I'd want to know more. We all need a bit of voyeuristic excitement in our lives.

24. If the roles were reversed, would you reveal what you had done?
Uh-huh. For the reason I'd think my spouse would also find it quite interesting (not if I had a genital disease though.)

25. Are there people you envy enough to want to trade lives with them?
Nope. My life's cute! I like it. And I am very, very, VERY lucky in that I have never felt proper envy. Jealousy has never been one of my bad qualities. There's no room left in the list for it :P

26. For an all expense paid 1 week vacation anywhere in the world, would you be willing to kill a beautiful butterfly by pulling off its wings?
Right. Now, weirdly, this is the only question that gave me room for deep consideration. I came to the conclusion, although it's stupid and I'd really bloody want that holiday, I couldn't do it. I heart beauty to a freakish degree.

27. What about stepping on a cockroach?
Oh I'd do this one :P Although my German teacher would be pretty angry; she loves cockroaches.

28. Would you be willing to murder an innocent person if it would end hunger in the world?
Oh here we go. No, probably not. It goes against everything that is so desperately fundamental to me.

29. If God appeared to you in a series of vivid and moving dreams and told you to leave everything behind, travel alone to the Red Sea and become a fisherman, what would you do?
Probs, it sounds like a brilliant idea tbh.

30. What if you were told to sacrifice your child?
Erm no, 'cause I'd know it was Just A Dream and how they're formed.

31. What is your most treasured memory?
Now this is a quiz question. I have so many, but the one I choose is the memory of a feeling or a day-to-day ritual that I can't experience anymore. There's no need to write it.

32. Have you ever hated anyone? If so, why and for how long?
No, can't say I have. I have been crazily angry at people, but it wasn't hate.

33. Would you rather be given $10,000 for your own use or $100,000 to give anonymously to strangers?
Clearly I'd have the money. It's bad, but it's true.

34. If you knew there would be nuclear war in 1 week, what would you do?
Go to London, have a massive party, spend all my money. It'd be amazing.

35. Would you accept 20 years of extraordinary happiness and fulfillment if it meant you would die at the end of the period?
20 years is amazing! I'd die at 39 for extraordinary happiness. Best. Life. Ever.

36. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?
I've accomplished nothing of greatness, yet. Getting through D of E without suicide? :P

37. Is there anything you hope to do that is even better?
Dance salsa, so I can go to a salsa bar and do some funky moves.

38. Would you give up half of what you now own for a pill that would permanently change you so that 1 hour of sleep each day would fully refresh you?
NO NO NO. Sleep is honestly my most favourite thing EVER and I love about 20 hours a day of it. Life without napping = no life at all.

39. If you knew you could devote yourself to any single occupation- music, writing, acting, business, politics, medicine, etc- and be among the best and most successful in the world at it, what would you choose?
Art. Or astronomy because I'd be the best astronomer ever if I could add up.

40. If you knew you had only a 10% chance of being so successful would you still put in the effort?
Of course. To be honest, isn't this what life is all about? Devoting yourself to something you love even though you might flop?

41. If you went to a dinner party and were offered a dish you had never tried, would you want to taste it even if it sounded strange and not very appealing?
Definitely. Love new food. I only tried falafel like a few months ago.

42. Do your close friends tend to be older or younger than you?
Around the same age, probably a bit younger because of my September birthday. I don't mind though.

43. If the person you were engaged to marry had an accident and became a parapelegic, would you go through with the marriage or back out of it?
Marry, all the way. I have to cook my bf eggs as he sits and watches News 24 as it is, so I doubt much would change *angelic*

44. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire; after saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any 1 item. What would it be?
My laptop. Can do anything with a laptop.

45. How would you react if you were to learn that your mate had had a lover of the same sex before you knew each other?
Umm I wouldn't :S

Lucy
xxx

25th July 2009

2009-07-25T16:07:00.002+01:00

Today we went for lunch with Nanny and my cousin Anne. I haven't seen her for years and years, and she was just how I remembered her. Quiet, sweet, an odd accent that comes from having a Brummie family but living out in the Worcestershire countryside. She looked pale though, almost translucent; I could see the veins under her eyes, and her lips were chapped. I'd heard she'd been ill and I wondered if she was anaemic, but instead just talked with her about motorways and this story my nan told about camping and cider in Evesham c.1934. More mature, more serious than her 23 years. A memory popped back involving her, one where we sat together at a family meal (maybe in Holland) and my Dutch aunt Sina chuckled and said 'Anne can't understand our accent'. I think she could though; I think she was just shy.

I always feel quite healthily jealous of people who are close to their families, especially extended members of similar ages. I often wonder what it's like to be friends with your cousin.. I used to be close in that way to my Uncle David's daughter - she was like an outgoing, risk-taking, sassy, exciting version of me, or seemed like it to the social gorm I was aged 9 or 10. Her step-mother said that although we looked really similar (and we did, I remember. I think she looked more like my mum than I did - I had that awkward Mason gangliness and introspection) we were poles apart. I remember being a bit frightened of her - we only met once a year - but also realising we were *related* and that transcends all bad feelings you might have to similar people who were just friends. Then some Bad Family Stuff happened, and she disappeared for a while, and now my uncle doesn't get in touch with us so I doubt I'll see her again. I vow that if I ever have a big family, I will try to make it as close as possible.

It's been a lovely day, too! I sat outside with my cats for a while reading 'The Hitchhiker's Guide'. I got frightened by some grey, moody clouds and came back inside to write here. May see if we can eat outside tonight, since I seem to be quite wrong about the clouds!
I can't afford to go out either, and am actually gutted. I haven't seen that motley crew for a horribly long time. May organise a party again in a month or two, since the Northern Dinner Party seemed to go quite well. How about it?

Lucy
xxx

London, Edward Rutherfurd: A Review

2009-07-23T15:30:00.002+01:00

Described as an 'epic novel', this book charting the history of a number of different London families from pre-Roman Britain to 1997 was definitely an 'epic' undertaking, sapping a good 3 weeks of holiday reading time. It follows the trials and tribulations, the successes and failures and the rise and fall of the Dogget/Duckets, the Bulls, the Barnikels, the Silversleeves, the Flemings, the Carpenters, the Merediths and the Pennys complete with Lords, prostitutes, criminals, pirates, heroes and the occassional normal, uneventful life. Sounds confusing.

Cleverly, however, Rutherfurd manages to make it pretty easy to follow the families throughout history without completely drowning in names, dates and 'which daughter of Silas Dogget is Violet descended from?' kinds of nightmares. He makes fair use of genetic features; the Dogget family all have a 'flash of white hair' and webbed fingers, the Flemings a 'concave face' and the Silversleeves men all have a pretty fantastic, large-nosed look reminiscent of Severus Snape. The book is also accompanied by an incredibly useful family tree that I ended up flicking back to at least 50 times per chapter, and some cute maps showing what London looked like at various points in history (and believe me, I am a sucker for visual props). Some of the stories too were quite swashbuckling, with the expected number of duels, kidnaps, babies being swapped at birth and venereal diseases present in what is being sold as an 'epic'.

However, I often felt that either in the attempt to separate the families clearly and understandably, or to facilitate the inclusion of certain parts of Rutherfurd's undeniably vast swathes of knowledge, certain lines were set up to represent certain 'types'. Thus it seemed every Carpenter was a rebel of society, a religious dissenter or a campaigner for humanity; that every Dogget jovially went about daily life in some horrid underclass occupation; that every Barnikel ended up in a naval career that entailed detailed, often mind-numbing description of the seafaring vessels of whatever generation was currently being represented. This and the fact that seemingly every plot point was constructed to show off Rutherford's impressive research meant that it often felt artificial, and I was at some points confused whether I was reading a novel or a second-rate textbook.

Saying that, I did find some of the characters quite endearing: Julius, the cute Roman optimist who starts a thousand-year family hunt for buried treasure; Lucy and Horatio Dogget, the poor girl and her sickly brother who have probably the most genuine and moving relationship in the book; Dame Barnikel, the Viking mother who sets up her own business and really is the only strong, female character I could discern. Which brings me to my second criticism: the quite soft, but definitely present, air of inequality present. In the whole entire 'history' of London, there seems to be not one gay or lesbian character, and 'homosexual' is written only once in reference to King James. There may be one or two subtle hints, such as a man telling his brother-in-law that he loved him more than he did a brother or a friend, and 1920s' Helen refusing to marry because she found men 'insipid', but this may be my brain overreacting after reading too much Sarah 'Lesbians from the Past' Waters.
Also, every woman except Dame Barnikel seems to be ruled by her vagina and cannot escape the crazy allure of mankind, falling at the feet of every guy who tries to seduce her. There is one inter-marriage rape, but this is quickly solved by the victim falling in love with a different man, causing a passage I didn't quite understand involving her lover, a blood-stained shirt of her dead husband and the implication of a tame Mills and Boon romp. Marriages in this book are usually quite successful, with, in my opinion, too much love than would be historically accurate. And the one main, black character is a pirate who kidnaps a girl called Jane and abandons her in Virginia. She, of course, falls in love with him. Obviously.

All in all, despite being probably a bit too lengthy for me, I did actually quite enjoy it in the end. Yes it was quite cliched in parts, held onto love, chivalry and adventure a bit too much and included an uncomfortable amount of background knowledge, but what epic doesn't? I'd recommend it for people with a bit of extra time, patience and an interest in history, but don't expect master storytelling or profundity because this book has neither.

Bad Times

2009-07-22T01:24:00.003+01:00

Ugh. Am broke. Like, officially and completely skint. Am feeling some particularly painful sacrifices are to be made, along with virtual social death.
Bum.

Music and Books

2009-07-21T17:00:00.005+01:00

After watching 'Supersizers...' last night, I'm hooked on 50s music, again. I think it may be because my dad is such a big fan of rock 'n' roll; listening to it simultaneously brings me closer to him and reminds me of my childhood. I love Grease-style barbershop quartet music, too. I think everyone has a decade from the 20th century that they feel most represents them musically, and I reckon the 1950s is mine.
I'm most happy with The Garden of Eden by Joe Valino - ask me if I'd heard it before yesterday and I would have said no, but after finding it and listening to it, I realised I had a long time ago and it popped up from somewhere in the back of my brain. Funny how one note of the introduction brings it all back, along with a (probably partially constructed) memory of driving along in the back of my dad's car very young.

"When you walk in the garden
The Garden of Eden
With a beautiful woman
And you know how you care
And the voice in the garden
The Garden of Eden
Tells you she is forbidden
Can you leave her there?

When you're yearnin' for lovin'
And she touches your hand
And your heart starts in pounding
And you're feeling so grand

Can you lead her to heaven
And obey the commands?
Can you walk from the garden?
Does your heart understand?"

This alternates between cheesy clubbing music taking me back to the excitement of last October, odd secrets of my iPod (Elton John? Hot Chocolate? :S), the ever present Regina/Fiona/Ingrid and the contents of the CD made for me by lovely Abbi. Even though I wouldn't call myself a music fan anymore (was always more inclined to the visual), but sometimes it really is everything.

I got to a library today! Forgot how much I like them - borrowed 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' (I know, I've never read it before..!), 'The Street' (if only because the idea behind it mirrors the idea behind my writing), and 'The Book of Lost Things' (liked the cover).

2nd

2009-07-20T19:46:00.003+01:00

I just had this flashback of a debate I had with Dominic last Thursday, a discussion that tiptoed towards raised voices about pornography and sexual harassment and female dignity. Nothing specifically came back to me, just the overwhelmingly frustrating feeling of sensing an unjustice somewhere - that something is fundamentally misaligned - and being unable to express this, not even to the one I love most. And that same Dominic saying - later, in bed - "I'm glad you said it was a debate and not an argument". Forcing myself to wake up at some unknown time at night because my dream was way too frightening, and only being able to slow my breathing by slowly shuffling to the other side of the bed. I'm not sure why these things just pop back sometimes.

I've been reading blogs all day, archives and new posts and my own posts and writings from people I've never read from before. Bit of nostalgia involved. I feel kind of weird.. not at all unhappy, but just not quite all there. I've not been on the ball all day, really; I lost one of my contact lenses in my room somewhere this morning, I've been thoroughly absent-minded, clumsy, irritable. I'm hoping these are symptoms for a missing female something; I am very rarely late and mostly run like clockwork. It freaks me out each time, especially since it is always in my nature to expect the worst. I've bitten my nearly-grown nails back down to the quick again. They feel quite sore and exposed, but really I'm used to it.
I'll be going downstairs now, to help Mum make a buffet, Ploughman's-esque dinner for us all. They've just got back from Brean and brought home a cute little poster of a kitten for me, with a title my mum said could ring true for me next year at uni: "As soon as I can spare the time I'm going to have a nervous breakdown and no-one is going to stop me". Matt has a new girlfriend who he allegedly stayed on the phone to until 2am, standing in the cold behind the caravan. Cute! I remember being 15.
Although I was almost desperately looking forward to my family's return and everything fitting back into place again, my rapidly souring mood just ended up pouring petty scorn on them for which I am already feeling guilty for. They're all in such good spirits, too, and have offered to take me out tonight, to which I said thanks but no. I'm such a party pooper!

Oh and finally, I don't know if it's just purely London itself that I'm craving, or just the chance to be able to hop on a bus, walk, catch a Tube and find myself somewhere new. I have all the love in the world for where I live and know truly how lucky I am to live somewhere so close to open countryside, but it traps me. If I don't have £3.30 in exact change, I can't go anywhere, and in all honesty there really is nowhere to go that doesn't run the risk of me accidentally getting stranded there with no way back. I think this all stemmed from me really wanting to go to a library, and the desire to get a bit lost somewhere, find something exciting, different, new where people won't know me. Hmph. I can't afford it, anyway!

The Aftermath

2009-07-20T14:17:00.002+01:00

Busybusybusy. Today I have finally screeched to a halt in my newly emptied house (that until now hasn't felt like my actual home but weirdly off-centre.. although it was pleasantly surprising how easily London people fitted into my house and my village and my life) and have just flopped, headachey and tired and warmly satisfied, onto my bed. There are *so many things* I could chatter about on here (the party, Cadbury World, fun, frolics, roast dinners, love and friendship) but I know I'll not do it any justice at all. This is the reason large gaps in blogging really don't suit me; I can faff around over little details and tiny events and this and that, but big things and long expanses of time fail me. One thing I *can* announce is that I got 68% (a 2:1) for my first year of uni, and considering I spent most of the last two terms throwing caution to the wind, I'm pleased! Have resolved, though, to work super-super-hard next year and not watch so much Come Dine With Me.

The rest of the week seems to be winding down. Tomorrow a trip to the opticians, again, Thursday a potential meet-up with my dad, Saturday is Nanny's. I'll be glad of the peace and quiet but am totally happy my mum has the next two weeks off, and that Matt has finished school.. I'm too used to a bustling house now!

Lucy
xxx

Day of the Sun

2009-07-12T22:24:00.004+01:00

I realised why I would so love to become a number of unattainable and often laughable things in my future life: a biologist, an astronomer, a nun, the voice of the Tube, a plus-size model, a concert pianist, a Victorian aristocrat, a happy housewife, a sempstress, a burlesque artist, a sexy mathematician and/or a YBA. Precisely because they are unattainable and laughable, and require skills, talents and personality traits (patience) I do not have, nor ever will have, thus rendering each and every one of them wildly attractive. Still, a girl can dream.

Talking of dreams, again, I had one last night that Josie and her 'family' (they were nothing like her real family) were going on holiday and I was house-sitting their mansion (it was nothing like her real, non-mansion house) and two fat, ginger cats (which were nothing like her real pet: a black and white dog).

I'm going slowly mad with cabin fever.

Lucy
xxx

EDIT: Oh, pssht, I forgot to tell you. During my Flickr revamp, I decided to post one photo every day (when possible) to give you a little outline of my feelings / escapades / current artistic leanings. Like a sort of almost photo blog. See how long this lasts *eye roll*

A Good Day

2009-07-11T20:59:00.007+01:00

A bit of joy for you all! Just ate lots and lots of spiced beef and Jamaican fried dumplings courtesy of Martin, so am full and content and practically purring. The curtains are thrown back and the windows wide open to catch the noise and feeling of this downpour, and a documentary on Robespierre (2 years too late) is flickering on my TV. *smiles*

So why this sudden flush of happiness? Last night I had a lovely evening with Lou, Andy and Katy in which I got all the cooped-up complaining and moaning and whining out of my system. I went on and on, and had depressed myself by the time I fell into bed a bit tipsy and very sleepy, giving myself distressing dreams in which nothing really happened except a vague sense of threat. (I had a brilliant - if achingly nostalgic - dream the night before: I was 15 again, and drunk, and in lust with a longhaired boyfriend completely invented by my subconscious. Again nothing happened, we just sat curled up almost awkwardly on a bench in what looked partly like a school hall, partly like a sticky underground music venue, and I was wearing clothes I probably would have worn 4/5 years ago. I had a slight awareness of wearing too much make up, too many bangles, and had the self-conscious arrogance of being that age in which you *know* people are jealous of you and judge you because of it, and you're both embarrassed and pleased. I woke up thanking God that part of my life was over, but kinda missing it too.) However, I got up feeling fresh and realised the huge moan I had was pretty cathartic. Am now ready for anything!

This inner smile (I accidentally wrote sinner smile there - LOL) meant that I had enough enthusiasm to face the neglected, untidy mess that was my Flickr account. And it really must have been a good day, because I took the news that the Sims 3 won't work on my laptop with only the minimum amount of heartbreak :P

Lucy
xxx

2009-07-08T16:50:00.003+01:00

Haha OK scrap what I was saying about LONDON (duh duh duuuh) actually being quite a good book: I was so, so wrong. It has suddenly taken on a kind of sexist tone in which all the female characters trundle along feeling overwhelming desire for pretty much every male they meet, regardless of whether they like him or not. The only woman in it I actually thought was quite realistic was Hilda, until she suddenly decided to sleep with her dad's friend. I liked Martina too, until she suddenly decided to sleep with the next man she saw for seemingly no reason. This author has done male characters really well - there are some quite interesting and complicated ones so far that I like BUT he has fallen into the trap of making the women so two-dimensional. They're either pious with secret desires, or manipulative with hidden desires, or obedient with legitimate desires. It's not boding well that the next chapter is called 'The Whorehouse'. *mega-sigh*