Only Connect

2011-11-26T08:53:00.000-08:00

I thought it went against everything I believed in, and for a little while I did feel like a traitor. But when it came in it's cute little box, when I downloaded my entire uni library for free, and when I could carry with me every book I need for the next two years (literally) in my back pocket, I was converted.
That's right, I got a Kindle.

It is an absolute dream - if you even vaguely enjoy reading, I'd recommend one - there's nothing more persuasive to academic genius than a shiny new toy, and I would guarantee you'd probably get through twice as many books with one.

And being a naughty, I persuaded Paul to buy me one before we start saving for Christmas so it doesn't count towards festive gifting (mwahaha!)

A Re-acquaintance

2011-11-26T08:38:00.000-08:00

It was February of this year that I last posted something, despicable I know!
So for a quick rundown of the past 9 months (don't worry no babies!)

I have however moved in with the beau and am enjoying untold domestic bliss! He has proved a master coffee brewer, makes a mean stir-fry, never leaves the toilet seat up, and is like a ninja in the mornings when I want a lie in. WIN!

I graduated with First Class Honours in English! So all of those times locked in the library paid off...

Not being satisfied as a mere Bachelor of Arts, I am working part time to be a Master! You can find me every Tuesday evening studying English Studies: The Gothic in a part time MA course.

By day, I work in the beureaucratic world of sponsorship sales, looking after Government events.

So I guess they're the biggies really!

2011-02-01T06:36:00.000-08:00

Once again my blogging has been sporadic, a few setbacks in the PGCE route has added even more worries and tick boxes to my increasingly long ToDo list.
MMU and Manchester felt, to my frustration, that my personal statement showed insufficient commitment to teaching:

Through the study of literature, I have come to believe that young minds can truly be positively influenced. The written word has proved Mankind’s most powerful instrument; It has catalysed wars, built religions, philosophise, professed emotion and document history. With archives of knowledge and thought at our disposal, we only need the right tools and attitudes to learn their lessons.
It has been said that there are no new thoughts, but what really matters is our connection to the ideas and developments of our past and our ability to take that knowledge and use it to better ourselves as individuals. I can think of no profession more rewarding than one centred on encouraging these beliefs in the youths who will shape our society’s future.
In my final High School year I did work experience at a local primary school where I helped in lessons, specifically with reading, spelling, and arithmetic. By teaching these children as individuals and being open and approachable, I was able to build a rapport and engage them with learning, making the experience of helping a child overcome a learning barrier extremely rewarding. I learnt that it was these skills I wished to build upon, and by teaching at a Secondary School level, I could engage students and guide them to appreciate a subject that could both enlighten their philosophic ideals and practically aid their literary ability.
At university I felt most passionately about the ‘Romantic’ and ‘Enlightenment’ movements. The connection between the principles of each taught me that the oppositional can be balancing, and that it is important to have a firm grasp on both of their ideals to know and appreciate the world. I believe that if unformed minds connect to and enjoy the fruits of these periods it will enable a stronger sense of self knowledge so crucial in the years of adolescence.
I feel I have shown confidence in the field of literature with contributions to my college newspaper and performing public readings for the local church community. While at college I proved to be a strong team leader by organising a college book club. At university I was crowned ‘Miss Student Manchester’ in the ‘Miss Student UK’ regional finals: a pageant that rewarded intelligence as well as charisma, and my success was due to hard work, personal organisation, extensive campaigning and the ability to connect to my peers.
Volunteer work for our ‘University People and Planet’ project improved my skills of lateral thinking, as I tried to find exciting ways to generate enthusiasm for the cause. I did this through organising competitions and events, and as a result, I taught many First year students the importance of ecological awareness.
I have always maintained a strong work ethic, and have enjoyed a variety of jobs while studying. My focus has mainly been in retail, where customer service was a priority, and the need to communicate daily with strangers built my confidence and presentational skills. I have also worked in the galleries at the Manchester Museum, where I supervised displays, answered questions from the public, and welcomed visitors - skills that transfer directly to the teaching profession.
I have always felt passionately about the acquisition of knowledge, and it is for this reason that I wish to become a teacher. My desire to learn has pushed me to become motivated and driven, and it is within the field of English Literature that I have taken the majority of my lessons. The assessment of ideas has taught me empathy and understanding. Studying thoughts on great beauty and human emotion has taught me passion and idealism. Learning of mankind’s historical flaws and vices has grounded me with reality and the desire for change. I owe the qualities that would make me an excellent teacher to the subject I wish to teach.

So, these next few months will be hectic to say the least, as alternate routes will also require an ability to drive, and as yet I only have a provisional license. So these will be the main stresses of the first half of 2011:

* Complete an amazing dissertation
* Do well in my remaining modules
* Graduate
* Look into alternative teaching routes, and arrange suitable experience and an exemplary application.
* Learn to drive, pass my theory, pass my test
* Save money to buy a car/pay for insurance,tax, etc
* Look for somewhere to live, come May

Bernard's Watch would be amazing right about now.

First day back at School

2011-01-13T11:21:00.000-08:00

American Poetics was surprisingly joyous, and I came away with enthusiasm, zeal, and excitement for a subject that only yesterday I viewed with such apprehension. The class is a lot less structured than my other modules, with group discussion and personal engagement being a key function in assessment.
As usual, there's a 3,000 word essay to test my knowledge of the subject, but the other 50% of my marks will come from a 'research file', which can take any form that we choose. In the past, I've always gone a bit overboard with these creative allowances, spending evenings cutting and pasting pretty pictures into a scrapbook, and not actually writing very much. This time, however, I'll be using a blog format, which means you, you lucky lucky readers, will be able to follow what I'm learning about. At the end of the course, I'll give my tutor my web address, and he'll mark it, which is nice, as the format allows a little less formality, and a chance to express my own opinions.

heather-americanpoetics.blogspot.com

It will also momentarily allow you a breathing space from my English Literature rants and rambles, as they'll most likely all go on there instead.

Wish me luck, and feel free to give me feedback (though preferably on this page), it'll all help me do well in my degree :)

2011-01-12T08:39:00.001-08:00

The Gretal costume will get an airing this evening as I will represent Germany in a 'Countries' themed party for Pearl's 20th Birthday!

My Modernism essay is finished and handed in, and after 3,000 words including the incessant repetition of 'misogyny', 'the postmodern superficial' and 'female empowerment', I'm glad to see the back of it. A gay old time in Canal Street will surely lift the spirits, before a return to uni this week, and more lacklustre modules. Once again I will be lifted from my 19th Century English comfort zone, and plunged headfirst into more contemporary studies; Twentieth Century American Writing and American Poetics don't really fit with my love for the British classics, but at least I'll have the cheery subject of Keats' mortality to lighten the mood.

Mum, my friends and I really enjoyed the contents of your 'care package' :)

2011-01-12T07:28:00.000-08:00

The beau is the master coffee brewer in our relationship, and his ability has coerced my tastebuds into viewing the efforts of others as insipid and inferior. Today though, I am enjoying my current caffeine profferment with new zeal, namely thanks to the Cath Kidston cup and saucer I have served it in.
My quest for the perfect tea set is ever going, but, after discovering the joys of 'unco-ordinated chic' (Thank you Kirstie Allsop) I am assembling it bit by bit. 6 teacup and saucers, a floral tray, and a dinky single teapot and cup combo in, I am only a milk jug and sugar bowl from hostess perfection. For true vintage value, I'd hoped to scout out some charity shops and car-boot sales (isn't the American term 'flea market' vile?), but there is a distinct lack of them these days, even in a place as big as Manchester. The Northern quarter, home of Afflecks palace and the quirkiest shops of the city, has quite a tragic attached identity; Pretension marks those 'too cool for school' retro types, and something that'd cost 50p at a boot sale would set you back at least a Fiver. This is one of the rare times I miss provincial life, where the profits of junk shops actually go to charity, and one man's trash is another man's treasure.
Until then, I will be watching Bargain Hunt with jealousy and longing (Though not for Mr Dickinson's radioactive complexion), hoping anyone with unwanted vintage dinnerware will send it my way ;) .

2010-12-29T12:32:00.000-08:00

Apologies for my tardy entry, but the festive month has seen me rushed off my sheepskin bound little feet! But the festive period is sadly over, and life has resumed to normality, which hopefully means more regular correspondance from yours truly.
Christmas was a whirlwind of drinking, dancing, and roast dinners, and with such a recipe for success, I'm sure you can believe that I had a truly magical time. I had spent the past two months slowly defrosting the Beau's Festive heart, and by Christmas Day it was well and truly thawed, as he spent his first Yuletide Holiday as a most enjoyable addition to the family. As usual, they truly excelled themselves both in the way of presents and food, and I am writing this entry on a shiny new notebook laptop (I'd been a very good girl this year).
I had been extraodinarily lucky this year with my Christmas working hours, and enjoyed 5 full days at the homestead, packed to the brim with familial love and good spirit. But the price of such joy is a solid block of exhaustion over the New Year, and so I must wait until next week until I can finally relax and revel in my holidays before the return to the plights of acadaemia! But fear not, dear readers, my posts will not remain so diffuse! The start of the New Year will bring resolutions of determination in many a field...but more of that to come later!

2010-11-24T09:13:00.001-08:00

Winter is here, which means it's time for these little beauties to get some sleep.

See you in Springtime!

2010-11-24T09:00:00.000-08:00

I hate the fact that Alan Titchmarsh has a TV show.

Mainly because it confirms the fact that he's a real live person, and not just a cut-out who lives at B&Q.

2010-11-17T15:23:00.000-08:00

A true lady never goes back on her word.

And I must prove exception to this rule. Though given the cause, I'm sure you'll understand and think no less of me (or my femininity!)

Because tomorrow, the Christmas German markets start, and my previous rant over premature festivities becomes exempt.

But look at its beauty! Manchester's going one better this year, with the introduction of several new markets. The line up for this year will be:

• New French Market for 2010, King Street• European Christmas Market, Albert Square• World Christmas Market, Brazennose Street• Christmas Market, Exchange Square• Craft and Gift Market, Exchange Street• Christmas Market, New Cathedral Street• German Christmas Market, St Ann's Square• Weekend Craft and Gift Market, The Triangle (Exchange Square)

I can't wait to explore them all, with the beau tomorrow! I plan on wearing my fur cossack hat and gifted mittens to keep me toasty warm :)

2010-11-17T08:56:00.000-08:00

It is my belief that a new school of fortune telling should be taught;
Similar to the skill of reading tea leaves, the art of reading hot chocolate skin can tell all of a subject's fate.
For the humble hot chocolate has been one of the few things keeping me going on these cold and wintry nights. The season of mist and mellow fruitfulness has been swiftly replaced by the season to be jolly, and the fruits of autumnal harvest were baked into a warming winter apple and blackberry crumble the other evening.
For though my leaf kicking days have sadly come to their annual end, my waistline is reluctantly expecting the joys of yuletide bounty. Good homely food in abundance? Yes please!

I've been greatly inspired by Kirstie's Homemade Home on Channel 4: Catch it on a Tuesday at 8pm. It features crafty delights such as this:http://www.emilypeacock.com/
(If anyone has a spare £50 and is looking to buy a poor English student a Christmas Present, the curious alphabet cushion kit in 'H', lilac stripe, or 'love tattoo' cushion kit would greatly be appreciated - Consider it a seasonal donation for the joys of reading my blog all year round?)

2010-11-02T12:02:00.000-07:00

I've always been of a strong opinion of the woman's place in the home. My mother, arguably the strongest woman I know, has ironically always harboured rather anti-feminist ideals. Both of us bathe in my Nana's gene pool, inheriting quality skills in homemaking and the creation of culinary delights, and though her passion for sewing and crafting seemed to have skipped a generation, my role as a homemaker is one firmly instilled both by nature, and by nurture. Which is why I take great pride in roles that require the art of hostessing, or the display of an ideal domestic harmony. It is why guests will never find my home a mess; why visitors will never find themselves thirsty; or why boyfriend's friends will imagine him being thoroughly well cared for. Yes, these may be values I am yet to fully grow into, but if the fundamentals are not cemented into my mindset now, they will never blossom into perfect fruition.
The illusion of harmony is something that everyone, to some degree, tries to impress on the vision of others. But every true homemaker, for that is what she is, seeks to make that illusion reality. Though, yes, my true passion lies in the aquisition of knowledge, I am well aware that a harmonious domestic environment will only further my mental wellbeing, and that of my family. I am one of the women who take pride in this role, who value its importance, and above all, sees it as a true vocation, rather than a role or responsibility.
The woman is the pillar to every household. Yes, this may be a dated philosophy, and feel free to call me an anachronistic throwback, but I can think of no genuine reason why society and marriages would not flourish if more importance was placed on this role. It is of the utmost importance to provide for our families, and living in our economic climate it is near impossible for the average family to support itself on a solitary income, which is why I will not embark on a rant against the Modern Career Woman; Not because the argument is subversive, nor from a lack of validity, but from the simple fact that it would be futile. Our society will not change, and will not 'regress' to the days of the housewife, as terrible or as beautiful as that would be. Instead, I can only implore the women of today to see the glory and the value of the domestic sphere, and seek to fulfill its entirety. Admittedly, not every lady will share my passion for doilies and teaparties, but most would admit they'd be hard pressed to find a man who doesn't appreciate a spouse who knows her way around a kitchen, can entertain even the most diverse of guests, and can provide the stability for familial development and bliss. Other wifely roles are of course, equally important, though if you want to know more about that, just pick up a copy of Cosmopolitan.

Apologies for the rant, my blog is the most useful tool for procrastination! I am currently avoiding an essay on national stability in Shakespearean tragedy! Many thanks for the most hits my blog has ever had this weekend, and an effusive shout out to Matt :)

Halloween in Warwick

2010-10-31T13:23:00.000-07:00

Sarah's 21st Birthday party was of the 'fairytale' fancy dress theme. Everyone went all out, it was fantastic, and I had a great time spreading teutonic joy with my Gretal costume. PS worked it as Robin Hood (Complete with not one, but two, items of arms) and the girls, as always, looked adorable as Maid Marion, The Big Bad Wolf, Red Riding Hood, Pinocchio's Blue Fairy, and Cruella De Ville.
Of course, a gingerbread house was baked in lieu of a birthday cake, and Puss in Boots had a cracking 21st!

2010-10-27T15:41:00.000-07:00

Also, profuse apologies for the topics of conversation on my blog. I realise not everyone is as into Literature, but my life is revolving around it at the moment! I'm sure you can sympathise!

2010-10-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

My life has hit on of those repetitive stages:
Eat:Sleep:Work:Study:Eat:Sleep:Work:Study
It's thrilling stuff, I assure you, but One simply cannot wait for the new year, when it's all over.
As much as I love my subject, setting an alarm for 8am to read Shakespeare is ridiculous. But needs must, my friends, needs must.

The Twelve Months of Christmas

2010-10-23T12:06:00.001-07:00

Perhaps it is due to the lack of distinction between our seasons. Only a few weeks past I had been blogging about my joy for the Autumn months, revelling in the crisp leaves carpeting the frosty paves. But this is England. Those weeks, few as they were, have brought rain and chills that have frozen our dusky leaf fall into the jewel like sludge puddles making treasures of our gutters. And thus, Winter is upon us.

Which of course, means only one thing.
The consumerist ritual of Christmas is unleashed in all of its Capitalist glory. Because the Big Brands don't care about our economic crisis, and by hyping up the festivities before Halloween has even been and gone, little children can get writing their letters to Santa before the rush.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm as excited for Christmas as the next five year old. I can't wait for the tinsel, the lights, the presents, the tree, and of course mama's home cooking. But I CAN wait for it in October, maybe even pushing November. I honestly don't see the need for advertisement in Autumn. Whatever happened to 'tis the season?'

Part of me wonders whether this obsession with the material holiday miraculously linked to Jesus' birth (Holy crap! A virgin got pregnant! Lets celebrate with worldwide gift giving!)has anything to do with how drab our society has become. Now you know I love getting on my nostalgic high horse for the Austenian era of the past, but part of me genuinely wonders whether we are all so unhappy that we have to latch onto a holiday that promises happiness and goodwill to all men, and stretch it to snapping point. Now contrary to popular misconception, suicide rates don't actually increase in December (Source: http://www.suicideinfo.ca/csp/assets/alert16.pdf) but heavy drinking, financial strain and familial dispute are surely all a consequence of a holiday blown completely out of proportion. So much strain and pressure is put on 'the big day' that expectations will always fall short.

When I was younger my parents took me to Germany. Rothenburg fulfilled every stereotype of the German gingerbread village. We went in August and the Christmas Tree Shop was open and in full season. It was almost sickeningly festive, but there was a difference to our British Christmas; It was traditional. Rothenburg wasn't trying to sell extortionate plastic with choking parts, or calorific tins of confectionary; Homemade tree decorations and nativity scenes dominated the tourist trade. The Family was the target audience, as opposed to The Consumer.

And so, I am rebelling against Christmas. Admittedly not in the way my Jehovah's Witness boyf secretly prays I will, but rebellion it is. My festive manifesto? I will not think about Christmas until my Advent Calendar goes up. December will be the month of Christmas cards, of present buying, of tree decoration, festive baking and going all out.
Join me in reclaiming the season!

John Keats is a gay icon.

2010-10-23T11:53:00.000-07:00

So that was the subject of an...erm...interesting journal I read the other day; Keats: Manliness, Sexuality, and Desire. James Najarian begs the question Will we understand Keats and his poetry better if we "prove"/"know" him to have been a latent homosexual instead of (or, titillatingly, in addition to) a frustrated heterosexual? Not necessarily. Najarian astutely points out that late twentieth- and early twenty-first-century attempts to categorize would be unwise for practical and theoretical reasons; we would do well to remain vigilant regarding the dependability of our knowledge of the sexual proclivities and practices of human beings in a culture and a time within which the discourse of sexuality was so very different from our own. So in other words, Najarian doesn't want to outright say that Keats is queer, he just wants to imply it. All in the name of literary fun.
I really have no strong feelings on Keats' sexual orientation, but I find it hard to agree with these implications when Keats so clearly LOVES FANNY.

Shakespeare for Dummies.

2010-10-19T15:00:00.000-07:00

King Lear was famously edited during the 18th Century, when genteel viewers thought the tragedy simply too depressing. Lacking a moral compass, the play showed that bad things could happen to good people, a premise that was a little too close to home even for the daring ankle-flashers of the Enlightenment period. And so, an alternate was written. The good heroine, Cordelia, was married off to a bloke she hadn't even spoken to in the original version, and other such joyous events considerably lightened the tone of a play about a senile old man. In the modern day many people, myself included, think that ripping a play a new one is a bastardisation of something that is a sanctimonial property of the author. It's just a bit cheeky, really, a bit presumptuous.

But this rerip of King Lear is frankly hilarious.

http://www.sparknotes.com/sparknotes/video/lear

Sadly, this video didn't teach me everything I'll need to know about the play for my course seminar on Monday. I can just imagine it now:

"What message is Shakespeare trying to portray regarding the importance of family?"

"He has two sons, Edmund and Edgar. Edmund, the younger one, is a bastard...Because he's a bastard, the world looks down on Edmund." "Edmund says he's tired of being a second class citizen, just because he's a bastard, and he's going to do something about it".

Comedy genius.

My life for the next 6 months.

2010-10-07T14:12:00.000-07:00

(look at the titles)
I KID YOU NOT.

To Autumn

2010-10-07T13:36:00.000-07:00

Words cannot express my seasonal joy. Autumn is truly upon us, the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, and it seems that recognising my love for the wildflowers of the fall, the beau surprised me with a bouquet of my namesake.

They are currently perfuming my bedroom with the fresh scent of the outdoors.

The first episode of Autumn Watch was also on TV this evening. Seeing people so genuinely excited about the wildlife and environment changes of the season was lovely, and the tame starlings made me think of home. Every year in Blackpool flocks of starlings line the streets and perch on rooftops and chimneys, flying in huge swoops and twittering in the skies.

If you're interested, check out: http://www.bbc.co.uk/nature/uk/ It will make you want to put on your Cath Kidston wellies and go leaf kicking.

Only Connect

2010-10-07T12:57:00.000-07:00

Autumn has blown a breeze of change over my little blog, a change you may have noticed in its new name and layout. This page will still contain suitably Romantic Ramblings, though with the increase in traffic to the page I couldn't help but worry that setting myself as part of that movement, with the Creative Greats, was slightly pretentious. Which, of course, is not what I'm going for at all.
So instead, my blog is 'Only Connect', the fundamental message behind E M Forster's Howards End, which has been numerously cited on this page.

"Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer."

Wicker Park

2010-10-07T04:02:00.000-07:00

It was a cause for celebration last night, as the beau was finally feeling better and up to eating again. So we enjoyed a candlelit dinner with a lovely white wine, before he was suitably coerced into watching Wicker Park, which is one of my favourite films.
This week has been lovely, with a new working pattern allowing me two whole days off! The first of which was enjoyed with a visit from mama, who got the train to Manchester for a day of maternal joy. The next is a surprise day with PS, though he has promised me ice-skating, so I'm very excited as we hardly ever get a full day off together.
So once again, I'm a happy girl. And I will enjoy it before December brings Christmas chaos at work and I'm truly snowed under by Uni projects.

"Art is long and life is short, and success is very far off"

2010-10-04T04:49:00.000-07:00

-Joseph Conrad.

Got that twitchy feeling of dissertation determination again. It's a nice mixture between sheer panic and the realisation that the sheer panic of something only due to be handed in six months from now will only cause me to do well.
The beau and I have reached a new plateau of contentment, and I'm hoping it isn't transient. I've settled in properly to work, and still enjoying it and the monies it provides. My PGCE application is well on the way, though I'm hoping its opening about chinese printing presses isn't too random. I'm a happy girl!

Dating in the Dark

2010-10-03T12:56:00.001-07:00

"Dating In The Dark returns for a second series and continues to explore how important aesthetic attraction is when it comes to achieving emotional intimacy, and asks the million dollar question – do looks really matter? Each week we offer six singletons, all genuinely looking for love, a totally unique way of meeting someone special – in total darkness. From the makers of Big Brother, Dating In The Dark airs exclusively on Living from Tuesday, July 13th at 9pm.

We all think we know what we’re looking for in a partner: Tall, dark and handsome… But surely you wouldn’t be so shallow as to rule out the potential love of your life on something as transitory as looks? Each episode, Dating In The Dark invites three single guys and three single girls to take up residence in separate apartments within a specially designed house where they are kept completely apart, only meeting each other in a dating room which is kept in pitch darkness: the Dark Room. So dark, our singletons cannot even see their own hand in front of their face. Viewers follow the action, week by week, via state of the art infra-red cameras in the dark room, as well as fully-lit footage of the boys and girls in their separate apartments. "

Sounds like an excellent premise for showcasing how shallow our society has become, and it was on these grounds that I watched my first (and last) episode of the Living Channel series.
Let me set the scene; Three guys, one handsome and educated writer, one unfortunately countenanced policeman, and one Justin Timberlake impersonator; Three girls, one Essex glamour model, one attractive but fairly average woman, and one exotic foreign artist lady.
Now Eva, the foreign artist lady was clearly the pick of Team Oestrogen. She wasn't the best looker, but hey, it's lights out dating and she had a sexy accent that suggested otherwise. I thought at least handsome, educated writer Dan would have appreciated her wit and intelligent conversation. But alas, her charms were dwarfed when Essex girl supernovaed into the PRELIMINARY conversation with the announcement "I'm a glamour model who enjoys pole dancing in her spare time", creating a black hole of desultory farce that even Dan was sucked into. Lets be honest, Trousersnake and Policeman had no chance, but Dan?! The writer?! FOR SHAME!
To cut a long story short, Essex decided that she had 'clicked' with policeman and trousersnake, and opted to see them with the lights on. Big mistake for our two lovesick bachelors, as she took one look and promptly marched her 8 inch hooker heels out of the room, leaving us to mourn the intelligence of a masculine brain who forgot about someone genuinely interesting, in the face of a vapid idle fantasy.
It seems that though dating in the dark has the premise of being quasimodo-friendly, it actually plays on the fact that you build up your own idea of someone if you can't physically see them. While Eva should have had a monumental advantage she was the underdog, because unfortunately for womankind everywhere, the bachelors found a fantasy of a glamour model more attractive than one of someone both charismatic and compelling; Proving that either Dating in the Dark's contestants weren't really "all genuinely looking for love", or that people really would be "so shallow as to rule out the potential love of [their] life on something as transitory as looks".
I'd say that it was an utter waste of an hour of my life, but it left me with the reassuring message that it doesn't matter how effervescent my personality is, I would always be trumped by someone with a H-cup that knows their way around a pole.

Introduction to Modernism

2010-10-02T12:47:00.000-07:00

Thursday brought more academic adventures, with a literary timewarp bumping me forward a hundred years. So far I've predominantly resided in the French Revolution with my studies, so heading into the 20th Century is a leap and a bound that I'm not sure I enjoy.
Imagine the concept of a word or phrase as an umbrella term for a million other words, phrases and movements. This umbrella keeps you spotlessly dry from all the Romantic, Airy Fairy literature that has formed your foundation of learning these past two years of six grand debt. Yet it drenches you from head to toe with the past hundred years of technological, industrial, scientific, literary, architectural, creative and philosophical developments. All of which you are unfamiliar with, all of which leave you with a bout of scholastic pneumonia... and I thought I'd just got over my last flu.
The good thing, though, is that the British Novel's response to Modernism was not dissimilar to my own, more recent, reaction: It royally freaked out. It had no idea how to construct a form that was all about change; it had no idea how to be 'new' without differentiating itself from what was old; how to retain tradition yet create the untried contemporary. In other words, it didn't know what to take from the past and what to leave behind. Which pretty much sums up my take on the module.

So, my prescription for scholastic pneumonia?
* Plenty of bedrest with the company of E.M Forster,(the previously mentioned and most unwelcome) Ms Woolf, Jean Rhys and other such characters.
* A weekly dose of Shakespeare, to be administered in Lecture and Seminar form, to counteract any post-traumatic nausea from a lack of canonised tradition.
* Weekly follow ups in equal dosage as previous, to discuss progress, with the hopes of a complete cure by January 2011.

N.B: Yes, you may have developed the British Novel more, Virginia, but I bet your tea party profferings had NOTHIN' on Austen's.

2010-09-28T09:17:00.000-07:00

My only day off this week has been spent in the library researching how John Keats felt about the fact he wasn't getting any action. Four hours of research has shown that his views are pretty much:
SEXY TIME = DEATH
As I'm sure you can imagine, I eagerly anticipate 10 hours+ per week finding sufficient resources to embellish this theory into 12,000 words of pure joy.

Illness breeds sarcasm.

2010-09-27T13:05:00.000-07:00

So the aforementioned determination fever has fallen at the first hurdle, thanks to actual fever. Okay, that may be poetic hyperbole, I'm not sweating at Death's door just yet, but a bout of "Freshers Flu" has furthered my mush brain's development into something resembling a slush puppy.
On a more positive note, I had my first class of 'Shakespeare, Myth & Problems' today. Mush brain struggled to absorb anything of use, yet it was panicked by the impending doom of this year. These next few months will be a flurry of academic activity, trying to balance two modules worth of work, a dissertation and a PGCE application. I'm not sure whether the sweating is due to sheer panic or the flu.

Between the sheets with Virginia

2010-09-26T12:26:00.000-07:00

FYI, Virginia Woolf is not only a terrible holiday companion, but she's an awful bed buddy too. A mushy brain and stream of conscious narrative is an unfortunate combination, one that could, in an ideal world, send the lady to the back of my bookshelf for years to come. But, alas, Woolf is a key mover and shaker in my British Novel class for this term, so persevere I must.
I can't help thinking, though, that 'to persevere' is to continue in a given course despite discouragements, from a desire to obtain an end. Yet, to persist is to continue from a determination of will not to give up. The word 'persist' is frequently used with negative connotations, implying obstinancy in pursuing an unworthy aim, and though the novel 'Mrs Dalloway' has been shortlisted again and again as one of the most popular/influential/bestest books of the C20th, I can't help thinking that if my aim is enjoyment or enlightenment, Virginia will prove unworthy. The question is, therefore, whether I am reading the novel simply to finish it, or out of the stubbornness of not letting the bugger beat me, and at this point the line is certainly blurred.

You may have guessed, from this lengthy digression, that I am updating from an actual computer, which would suggest that my internet has finally been fixed. Hurrah! In fact, many things have changed these past few weeks; I have fully settled in to domestic bliss in an amazing apartment with the perfect roommate; the beau I know and love has returned, shunning his grumpy alter-ego; I have scored an amazing job which I truly love, and because of which I've been sent to London and been on TV for a split second!; and I have returned to university and piqued a new level of determination for my dissertation and overall academic success.

So yes, lovely readers, I am back. Expect more regular updates and posts,more musings and senseless prattle, and undoubtedly, more procrastination.
And hopefully less Virginia Woolf.

N.B: If you don't believe I was on TV, watch this: http://www.itv.com/granada/brave-birthday-girl26632/ I'm fairly sure the clip opens with a shot of the back of my head.

2010-09-15T02:35:00.000-07:00

A very strong part of my personality is my inability to let things just happen. I'm happiest when a plan is strictly regimented, preferably with optional margins for backup plans. I think its something my friends have had to accept, I am a massive organisational dictator and plans tend to be arranged with military precision.
Which is why I am in great throes of anxiety the day before I am due to be sent on an induction, for my new job, to London and still have no information whatsoever.
Looking at things positively, though, maybe this will be good for me, to lock that little tyrant inside of me into a box, let it freak out for a while, and eventually see that alls well that ends well. I hope.

The diamond as big as the Ritz

2010-09-06T05:51:00.000-07:00

It is youth's felicity as well as its insufficiency that it can never live in the present, but must always be measuring up the day against its own radiantly imagined future - flowers and gold, girls and stars, they are only pre-figurations and prophecies of that incomparable, unattainable young dream.

A lack of internet will account for my lack of updates, many apologies. Though rest assured I have eased back into city living and am enjoying my beautiful new home.

WWAD?

2010-08-21T12:36:00.000-07:00

Now, that isn't the most charming of acronyms, but it stands for my new philosophy on life. If I get into a sticky social situation, what should I do? Well, I should ask myself 'What would Austen do?' I'm well aware that shooting a lecherous man down by calling him an abhorrent cad may not go down too well in this day and age, but it should remind me to always act with dignity and decorum. After all, practising euphemisms can only serve to extend my vocabulary with more creative, choice insults, and at least they'll be more memorable.

2010-08-21T12:34:00.000-07:00

Blackpool on a saturday evening? I got sexually propositioned twice in the time it took to make an ice cream, and had to ask a small child to leave because he swore at an old lady. Lovely.

A Cosmopolitan View Of Man-kind.

2010-08-20T15:02:00.000-07:00

I have lately become increasingly irritated with the way that our modern media portrays men. Pick up any women's magazine, Cosmo, Glamour, you name it, and their advice to women is to belt up and accept that men think differently to women. Now I'm not going to start talking statistics and scientific experiments (Truth is, I'd have to google them for myself, and frankly, that isn't the point of this little rant) but yes, it can be seen time and time again that men and women have different natural skills; that's why they were hunters and we were gatherers and homemakers. Did you know that women have better skills at determining colour difference? That's why we can tell the difference between fuscia and cerise, and men can't (unless they're Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen, but he's a WHOLE different kettle of foppish fish). The reason is that in caveman times women were the ones who picked the berries, and they needed to be able to tell the difference between the poisonous and safe fruits. Men are stronger, why? Because they probably had to wrestle with mammoths to stock our stoneage barbeques.
So yeah I accept that we're different - The colourblind ladies poisoned their families, and the puny men had hungry kids. The weak died out and so our race evolved with these adaptations. What I don't agree with, however, is this stereotype that the media is trying to put out there. They make out like men are these logical idiots, barely understanding the complex workings of the female mind, missing the points of beauty and emotion, and fixated on boobs, beer and sex. Now the latter part may arguably be true, but it's this assumption of emotional ignorance that really aggravates me.
Look back to Shakespeare. My argument for "Was he really as great as they said he is" has always stayed the same. Yes. Why? Because he's shown time and time again that he really 'gets' the characters he's writing about. Was Shakespeare ever a black man in a racist society, struggling with feelings of jealousy over the affections of his beautiful, white wife? No. Was he ever a young man, with a Freudian mother-obsession, struggling with the death of his father at his uncle's hands? No. And Yet he writes all of which with such a strong sense of emotional empathy. Yes, Shakespeare was a bit of a shagger, but he really 'got' people. Not like the beer swilling men these cosmopolitan women are bitching about.
Next, lets take John Keats. I have an immense soft spot for Keats, namely for his tragic life story, but, for me, he is the main poet who seems to be in this constant search and appreciation for all things beautiful. "A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness" and "Beauty is truth, truth beauty" are just two of Keats' famous quotes on the subject. This is a man who would notice your new eyeliner and appreciate that new dress, glamour readers. And was he a sap? Yes, he was prone to writing slightly melodramatic, whiney love letters ("I have two luxuries to brood over in my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute." Ergh it makes me wince), but he was one of his day's most dangerous political writers, so recognised that the literary authorities tried to discredit his works and put a stop to his career; When he died, the doctor performing the post mortem could not believe that Keats had held on for so long, as his Tuberculosis had eaten away the majority of his lungs. So if he is a sap, he's a pretty manly one at that.
I've recently been re-reading Howards End, which leads me to introduce E. M Forster as one of our (more modern) anti-stereotype heroes. If you've ever read the book, you'll know what I mean when I say it's as emotionally aware and empathetic as you can get. The characters' reasons, motives and logic are so meticulously thought out and explained, so obviously sympathisable, that anyone who had bought into these glossy-fuelled lies would think it was written by a woman. Forster gets into the characters' heads far more convincingly than, say, Virginia Woolf, who was heralded for her explorations into the psychology and emotions of her creations, yet does it in the most confusing and least poetic way possible. And best of all? Forster's protagonists are women.
Now, I'm not saying that if Forster can understand the way the female brain works, then all men can. I'm not saying that your boyfriend should be as empathetic with your hormones as Shakespeare apparently would be, or that he'd appreciate your Laura Ashley vase as much as Keats would (though it be no Grecian Urn). All I'm saying is that I have given only three examples of men who defy the stereotype, and without a doubt there are thousands more. Yes, these men were gifted in the art of 'writing pretty' (And Shakespeare's sexual preferences have been debated), and I'm very sure that not all women conform to the 'feminine' image portrayed by these sources, but I find it worrying that one of the most accessible forms of literature in our society is trying to tar men with the same brush, and therefore make it socially acceptable, and 'manly' to have the emotional capacity of a caveman. Likewise, I think that the stereotypical 'woman' they portray is a confusing combination of glamour and hormones, and as a result has created mass insecurities as women strive to a photoshopped perfection that they cannot attain. And why do they want to look like glamorous film stars? Because the media has made out that that's what men want.
So, in conclusion, I am angry. I am angry because I feel that the media is making out like it's alright for men to be emotionally stunted and pigheaded, and it's even better for women to constantly look like they're about to run the red carpet. I am angry because I feel that the literature of our lifetime is belittling what is inherently good, and encouraging the reduction to our primal, unevolved selves (Man drink beer. Woman look pretty. Ugg!), when in the past, magazines would advise on polite society and correct fan etiquette, the beautiful arts and literature that would better our creative vision and emotional enlightenment. And I am angry because Emeline Pankhurst had it right when she said that men and women were 'the same but different', and I feel that the media is highlighting the worst of our differences and making them socially acceptable.
Yet saying this, when I next meet my boyfriend it will be to talk about everything other than how he feels, and I'll most likely be wearing a full face of makeup and a push up bra. So yay for brainwashing - We can recognise it, but we choose not to fight it.

Apologies for the rant.

Howards End

2010-08-20T12:56:00.001-07:00

"you only care about the things you can use, and therefore arrange them in the following order: money, supremely useful; intellect, rather useful; imagination, of no use at all. It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness, to think that a thousand square miles are a thousand times more wonderful than one square mile, and that a million square miles are almost the same as heaven. That is not imagination. No, it kills it... Oh yes, you have learned men. They collect facts, and facts, and empires of facts. But which of them will rekindle the light within?"

2010-08-17T12:30:00.001-07:00

Hello, little blog.
I've realised you have become fairly neglected over the past few months; While occasional attention and affection has been spared, it's comparatively nothing to what you're used to. I do apologise.

I've been very busy recently, working at a horrible job as a means to provide myself with a little bit of money for when I move back to Manchester. I'm not enjoying it, but it's not too bad. I can't wait to come home though, and am fantastically excited to move into my lovely new apartment. My new room-mate is also fond of Cath Kidston, so I have high hopes for decorating fun and domestic bliss! I've already started collecting some recipes for yummy treats for us, and am hoping the parents will let me take the bread maker!

I've enjoyed reading a few Joanne Harris books recently, and have decided she's one of my favourite modern authors. I recently enjoyed Gentlemen and Players, and Holy Fools, but I now need to crack on with some reading for uni. I was thrilled to see that I had actually decided not to take that Crime Writing module as an option, clearly I momentarily became practical, and then my brain blotted out this uncharacteristic action, so I've been convinced all summer I'd have to churn out some Conan-Doyle knock offs and scrape a pass grade. Luckily, this isn't the case. I picked options to study Shakespeare; Myths and Problems, The British Novel and Modernism/Postmodernism, Contemporary American Fiction, and American Poetics. The construction of that list-filled sentence made me thankful, for the second time this week, for the Oxford Comma as a piece of punctuation.

Things are, as ever, going swimmingly with the beau, and he eagerly anticipates my arrival back to the city. We spent a lovely, entire weekend together, with him staying over for two nights and 3 days :) It was nice to see him for an extended period of time, and it made me realise that we get along even better than usual the more time we spend together, which can only be a good thing. The parents are also well, and the friends are even better, trying to cram in as much quality time before we all go our seperate ways to uni once more. I have, as yet, avoided a whole summer of the Tasche on nights out, yet have enjoyed various nights at Scrooges and Grapevine :)

2010-08-13T12:50:00.000-07:00

"When he was present she had no eyes for anyone else. Everything he did was right. Everything he said was clever. If their evenings at the Park were concluded with cards, he cheated himself and all the rest of the party to get her a good hand. If dancing formed the amusement of the night, they were partners for half the time; and when obliged to separate for a couple of dances, were careful to stand together, and scarcely spoke a word to anybody else. Such conduct made them, of course, most exceedingly laughed at; but ridicule could not shame, and seemed hardly to provoke them."
Sense and Sensibility

2010-08-13T12:22:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, a maiden lived in a provincial seaside town. Every day she would tie her golden hair out of sight, and put on ill-fitting garments to go to work in the lowliest of kitchens, tidying and scrubbing, cleaning up after the beasts that would dine there. Her delicate skin was burnt by the ovens, and her feet were sore and tired from carrying her between each ceaselessly arduous task. Yet, every day, she would fix a smile upon her face, pleasantly addressing every beast that spoke to her with discourtesy, every beast who littered her floor with their discarded scraps, and every beast who was too lazy to perform the simplest of tasks. Every spare minute, she dreamed of the day that she would be reunited with her handsome prince, and knew he would love her all the more for her sacrifice of both pride and dignity, and her acceptance of the irks of practicality. She knew that they would live happily ever after in the fairytale city, and she would never have to scrub a floor again. The End.

2010-08-10T10:10:00.000-07:00

Just 22 short days until my return to Manchester! Though I have enjoyed the comforts of provincial life (Mainly mama's cooking and washing and general caring for 'her baba'), I can't wait to regain my independance and be at home in the city I love. My eagerness to get back really makes me think about how much has changed since I first moved for Uni, when a city was daunting and huge and unfamiliar, and I resisted letting it feel like home with everything I had. But ideas change, and this year, it's mostly thanks to an apartment share with a best friend, more regular boyfriend-time, and an escape from Blackpool and all its gaudy tourist monstrosities.
I've missed getting lost in the University library, getting ready for date nights, and the fact that there were always new things to do and new places to explore.
So come the first of September, I'll be moving back, ready to enjoy the benefits of living a mere ten minutes from my favourite part of the city, and planning a good few housewarming parties.

2010-07-31T14:01:00.000-07:00

Ken is the new love of my life. I think maybe it could be his matching neckscarf and short shorts combination. His pimping dreamhouse. Or maybe his swingin' sixties slang that makes him oh so cool.
I also enjoy Barbie's voice. Sound familiar? That's because it was Ariel's. (Ursula clearly traded that seashell for some plastic, smart lady).
Toy Story 3 sated my inner Disney Geek fix, I guess some things you never grow out of.

2010-07-27T14:51:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to be a broken record. I already treated you to a picture of Jude as Dr Watson a few posts back. But trust me, seeing the film and swooning over Mr Law has made re-reading the Sherlock Holmes books far more enjoyable.
I now mentally picture my Dad (Who bears a remarkable RDJ resemblance) and Paul (with a stuck on moustache and pocket watch) solving Baker Street crimes with 'elementary' logic and daring flamboyance. Trust me, it's far more comical than the previous imaginings of a Basil Rathbone and Charlie Chaplin combo.

N.B: In no way, whatsoever, did this influence my decision to buy PS Harris Tweed for our anniversary. Not at all. *Cough*.

2010-07-27T14:26:00.000-07:00

The joys of being home are rather short lived - After nearly two weeks of joy in Spain, it's time to knuckle down and get prepped for uni and the impending dissertation.

Not only do I need to get my studious brain on, those calories that make the 1 Euro per litre wine more expensive need burning off. I also need to churn out some poetic ramblings in the vague hope of winning a creative writing competition, find a flat and organise moving back home with one of my gal pals, and get up to date with pesky health care check ups. Because, you know, nothing beats a break from hardcore English work than a trip to the dentist and docs. Maybe I'll try and do them both in the same day, though that may be more fun than I can handle.

So until September brings the excitement of city life, it looks like I'll be locking myself in the library. However, pictures like this will definately keep me going:

Also, though this may be the best 5 Euros I ever spent, I am struggling to decide whether it is worth the 10,000 sit ups it'll take to work it off

P.S: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

2010-07-18T07:17:00.000-07:00

Though I´m impressed by my milkbottle skin´s surprising ability to tan easily and evenly, I can´t say I´m too thrilled about the angry tanlines. Invisible underwear in the shower is definately a sight for sore eyes.
Yes, you may have guessed, I am in sunny Spain at last. Apologies for the recent lack of updates, a busy few weeks and a bout of mental lethargy when actually not busy hasn´t made me the best blogger.
But, I had an amazing birthday, spent it with amazing friends, ate amazing cake and got amazingly drunk, ensuing a night of crazy dancing with the beau and co. and trying to eat Thai food while in a stupor. Though I´d told people not to buy me presents (A rather extravagant trip to Stratford and a girly holiday to Spain all in the same month was more than enough), I got truly spoilt.
I´m now mid-way through the holiday and enjoying every minute of relaxing with the girls and having fun. I´ve had the most amazing ice-cream sundae (Best 5 euros ever spent), gone in the pool every day, went to a crazy Spanish foam party and got drenched with water guns, been to the beach, and danced to crazy European music and my boyfriend´s ´gangsta´ iPod nearly every night. So, I look forward to 5 more days of sunning, gossiping, and realising that Virginia Woolf is not the best holiday companion. Adios, amigos!

The place of Shakespeare's birth!

2010-06-29T06:34:00.000-07:00

PS took me to Stratford Upon Avon for our 1 Year anniversary, as a surprise!
The weather was beautiful, and we had 3 days packed with fun things. We stayed at a gorgeous hotel, visited Shakespeare's birthplace, explored the town, rowed along the river Avon, ate in some lovely restaurants, and visited a butterfly house.

I think this picture sums up the trip quite nicely:

***

Why I love my friends? (A direct quote)

2010-06-22T15:29:00.000-07:00

Amongst other things,
Because they map out fantastic alternate lifestyles for me.
What happens after someone makes an 'Earl Gray' joke?

" Tbh i feel the marital process should be this ...
1. jake gylenhaal - while you're young and glamorous for beautiful babies
2. mr kipling - cakey times + wealth when you invent an astonishing new cake
3. the EARL - to live your retirement in lazy, tea drinking, cake eating luxury under a parasol in an english garden
...
Under NO circumstance go kipling, earl, jake. You may (though ridiculously doubtfully on your constitution) be tricked by mr kipling into cake-fuelled obesity after his jealousy over your cakey invention and then your earl catching skills will be reduced and by this time jake will be old

This does no one any good!

TAKE HEED "

Tea Party Joy

2010-06-22T14:38:00.000-07:00

So today I feel like I've actually been productive. Curtains have been sewn and hung, completing the bedroom transformation project :) I say transformation, it's still the same colour/theme, but a lot fresher and prettier. The catalyst of determination? My Dad ''Why don't we just ask your nana to make the curtains?'' "NO! I can do them!" (See I choose to be bratty at the strangest times). But yes, now I am basking in the glory of self satisfaction, planning future uses for Mr. Sewing Machine. (He's made by 'brother' I need to think of a 'ghetto' name for him).

Also got a cute new dress today, as my Nana gave me birthday money early to buy new clothes for summertime :) It's retro and polka dot, and generally lovely. I plan to wear it at weekend, when PS will whisk me off for a few nights, in celebration of our one year anniversary!

I'm planning a sickeningly cute tea party to celebrate my birth (How self absorbed that sounds!), as my friends have already paid an arm and leg to go away for it, and I'd feel bad making them pay to go on a night out. I've already been looking in the country living magazine's teaparty issue for inspiration, so fingers crossed the sun will be out for garden party fun! Now I just need to make some sickeningly adorable invitations. I might just write the info on a doily, that would suitably sicken the boyfriend and fill the girls with joy.

(Though I won't glower from the head of the table, like Alice. I'm a good hostess)

What makes you happy?

2010-06-19T14:35:00.000-07:00

Raindrops on roses? Whiskers on kittens? Bright copper kettles? Warm woollen mittens? Brown paper packages tied up with string? Tell me a few of your favourite things!

I got this super sneaky blog tracker thing that tells me how many people have viewed my blog each day, and though it makes me feel like a 007 spy with snazzy gadgets, there's a certain amount of anonymity which I'm not too fond of.
So, lovely people, if you've read this and have a spare 2 seconds (Which I'm assuming you have, if you've got the time to read my ramblings) how about you show me some love and pop in a comment, telling me what makes your day.

My favourite things?
The first week of summer, and the fresh excitement of wearing a sundress; Poems by Romantic Greats; Beautiful scenery and train journeys; Old friends; New friends; Dancing; Singing to yourself really loudly when no-one else is home; The smell of old books; The smell of cut grass; Homemade treats and handwritten notes.

2010-06-18T13:45:00.000-07:00

Dear David,
Please consider managing England in the next World Cup. There are several reasons why I think you would be better than that Fabio chap; First, and foremost, your beautiful face would attract and entrance countless of new female viewers; The afore mentioned face of divinity would also counteract that of Mr Rooney rather nicely; Your tactical skills surely must be better than those employed in the England v. Algeria match. I know that people mock your slow, slightly drawling voice, but I find it very attractive, and surely none could argue that Fabio's is any more comprehensible than yours. Similarly, I know people have challenged your apparent lack of intellect. But these sceptics must see that any man endowed with such fine physical appearance must be loved by the Gods, and therefore must have fate on his side (when you got sent off in '98, though, that was only the Gods testing you, right? To make you the fine figure of a man you are today.) These sceptics must also see that, like Sven was advised by Nancy, you, my dear, would be advised by Victoria. And if her skills in organising brand Beckham are anything to go by, she would be a formidable ally to the England team.
So please, Mr B., consider coaching England. You did look mighty fine in that England suit.
Love,
Heather.

How to stalk your favourite singer/songwriter

2010-06-18T06:38:00.001-07:00

Book tickets for their small gig in Manchester. The boyfriend will then run into him busking on the street the day before, and have a brief conversation. You will then go to the gig, held at a bar, after you meet the boy from work. Because you're there early, you'll run into the said singer/songwriter, who recognises the boy from the day before, while you act like a tongue tied geek and ask him to sign the CD you just bought from him. You then go back upstairs to the bar, hoping not to come across overly keen. When you get to the bar, you run into him again, where it is only polite to chat again. Cue more burbling idiocy about "liking the words to your songs. The lyrics are like really good." Along with something cringeworthy like "I do poetry at uni, I like pretty words." He will then play the gig, and dedicate a song to your and your boyfriend. Two days later, on your train back home from Manchester, you'll be sat in your seat and look up to see him in the same carriage on the same train. You wave with dorky enthusiasm, and he comes over and gives you a hug and theres some awkward kerfuffle about where he's going to sit. He ends up sitting at the table opposite from you, so you try and avoid too much eye contact, worried he may think you are intentionally stalking him. (You realise that your amazing coincidence might freak him out a bit, especially after acting like a nerdy fangirl). You get off the train, give an even dorkier wave goodbye, and hope that when you go to his next gig, he's forgotten about the entire situation, and doesn't dedicate the song 'Walk you home' to you.

''I'm the boy who watches the phone.
I'm the boy who eats lunch on his own.
I'm the boy with the monotone.
I'm the boy who still lives at home.

I'm the boy with the ironed shirt.
I'm the boy who watches you work.
I know where you keep your skirts.
I know where your secrets lurk.

I'm the boy that's calling your house.
I'm the boy that's freaking you out.
With my thermal flask of tea.
Up there in your neighbour's tree.

I'm the boy that's crossing borders.
I'm the boy with social disorders.
I'm the boy with restraining orders.

'Cos I just wanna walk you home.
I just wanna walk you home.
And I know that's it not right to creep.
But I just wanna watch you sleep alone.''
(Passenger)

Reading List

2010-06-13T09:29:00.000-07:00

Summer mission: To finish all those books I've wanted to read. Follow it on the link to the right, and maybe check out some of my poems?

2010-06-12T14:08:00.000-07:00

Things to be excited for in the coming weeks:

* My one year anniversary with the beau.
* Crafting relating to the above.
* Decorating my bedroom, filling it with niceties and handmade accessories.
* My 20th birthday and celebrations.
* A summer holiday with the senoritas.
* Friends returning home from uni.

2010-06-11T12:07:00.000-07:00

Apologies for the lack of updates, I've been feeling mentally lethargic.

On the plus side, I've been reading a lot more recently. I'm trying to expand my narrow little mind with more contemporary fiction.

Having fun isn't hard when you've got a library card!

2010-06-02T15:51:00.001-07:00

Rejoined my local library today, and was rather amused by the lack of poetry books. Considering that poetry is one of the most honoured forms of literature, that it catalysed the evolution of the written word, and that 'having' Shakespeare as a part of our national heritage is one of the saving graces of being British, it is disgraceful that they only have one bookshelf dedicated to the subject. Oh, also, that solitary bookshelf also houses all of the plays and drama analyses.
"Yeah, it's ok, we'll just shove this drama crap with the poetry. You know, the performance texts that created the foundations of all the terrible TV we watch today. You're right, Hamlet ain't got nothin' on Desperate Housewives."
So my question is, what the hell takes up the rest of the space?? It's a pretty sizable library. Probably multiple copies of Katie Price's newest 'bestseller', or biographies on Cheryl Cole (There wasn't even ONE about John Keats. Who's betting there's several on these vacuous time wasters?). I'd write a strongly worded letter to the borough council, but they won't care, because the people of Blackpool don't either. How do I know? Phillip Larkin, as even Wikipedia credits as, 'one of the greatest English writers of the latter half of the twentieth century', has his pride of one-copied place on this bookshelf, with a single volume that has been in circulation since 2001. How many people have checked it out? 8. Including me.
Sometimes, I feel there is no hope for provincial life.

And don't even get me started on the 'modern art' at our local gallery. Aargh!

2010-05-31T02:43:00.000-07:00

www.postsecret.com

Get your craft on

2010-05-25T12:56:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's the weather, but my yearning for homemade crafting has returned sevenfold. Suddenly I want to get all resourceful, and I find myself planning how to make beautiful things out of useless objects, with only a hot glue gun and a bit of ingenuity. It was only while surfing blogger that I realised how diverse the crafting community actually is, and I've found some truly amazing sites that have sparked an itch that only the sewing box can scratch.

So I can look like a Nordic princess:
EvaForeva: DIY Idea, Braided Headband

So I can irritate the boyfriend's hatred of doilies:
EvaForeva: Doily in the Loop

I also treated myself to the most recent copies of 'Period Living' and 'Country Living' magazine, so I can start mood-boarding for the city flat me and my friend will be living in come September. Ambitious and unrealistic it may be, but if crafting kitsch accessories makes me happy then so be it.

"There is nothing better than sand between my toes, and a pocket full of seashells"

2010-05-25T12:46:00.001-07:00

Had a beautiful few days enjoying the divine weather. Weekend was a flurry of barbeques, garden parties with old friends, exploring sand dunes and beaches and paddling in rock pools, fish and chips on the pier, Enjoying lazy afternoons on swinging garden chairs, al fresco brunch with my high-school best friend, a gypsy's fortune telling, and being happy and freckle-y. The shorts and sundresses have enjoyed getting an airing, and I've been left with lovely seashells to craft with!

Also, good luck to the best friend who flew out to Peru early this morning :)

2010-05-19T15:20:00.000-07:00

Apparently we're in for a hot spell these next few days.
Best get my sundresses, suncream, and sunglasses out.
Why is it that things are always good when sun- is a prefix?

Elementary, my dear

2010-05-19T15:08:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's the Harris tweed three piece. Maybe it's the Peter Pan collar. Maybe it's the fact that if I stuck a dodgy moustache on PS there'd be a striking resemblance. But there's no denying I have a huge crush on Jude Law as Dr Watson.

Look! He even has a pocket watch!

Don't worry, Paul already knows of this affliction, and has been assured he is always numero uno in my affections ;)

York update and fun in the sun.

2010-05-18T09:50:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the delay, little blog. I know you've probably been itching to be updated on my joyous times in York.

As it is impossible for me to write anything other than a detailed description, if written in prose, I will bulletpoint the highlights ;)

* Handholding with PS (will always be top of my list :))
* Exploring beautiful beautiful York, and deciding we both want to live there
* Affection galore
* The AMAZING Cath Kidston shop, I was in floral heaven (And treated to a new purse by PS)
* York shops in general.
* Lovely weather
* Buying a new sundress
* A lovely meal and lots of wine :)
* Being terrified in York Dungeons, despite the fact it was actually crap
* Also feeling ripped off by the Jorvik centre. Which was also crap, and also smelt bad.
* A beaut hotel
* Ice creams and food in abundance.

Good times! :)

A quiet Heather day

2010-05-15T15:02:00.000-07:00

So today I had a lovely day, as for the first time in ages I had nowhere that I needed to be and nothing that I needed to do. I had the most wonderful lie in, and only woke up at about 11oclock, then I got up leisurely and got ready, popped on a sundress and had a mosey into town. Had a nice look round, but unfortunately all the cute second hand and haberdashery shops were closed. The pubs were all open and Blackpool's finest were out in force though, so I cut my trip short after a stop into the works to buy cheapo books for reference and art supplies. The evening was spent making a photoboard which involved hot glue gun burns, pretty gingham ribbon, and little trinkets and photos of good times. I then spent the whole night drawing and colouring a picture of a magpie, which I'm unbelievably happy with. I haven't done any proper drawing since college, really, so I'm pleased with how it turned out.
The folks were off to a wedding reception in the evening, so I had the house to myself and watched the pups. So apart from a cat related incident the evening was largely uneventful, and for the first time in weeks, I'm glad.

2010-05-14T15:21:00.001-07:00

Heather has spent the last two days exploring a new city, holding hands with Paul and being told how beautiful/perfect/loved she is. "Smitten" doesn't even come close.
Heather is so blissfully happy she can only speak in third person.

Heather will update on the York trip tomorrow.

2010-05-11T12:51:00.000-07:00

"man's greatest tragedy is that he can conceive of a perfection which he cannot attain"
-Jerome McGann on Byron's Childe Harold.

BYRON ESSAY IS DONE!
*relief*

Flight of the Conchords

2010-05-10T12:06:00.000-07:00

Fantastic,
Brett was even more adorable in real life, Germaine even funnier. Personal highlights? The robot costumes from the first ever episode, The whipping off of clothes to reveal sequined lycra costumes to perform 'Bowie in space', and Nigel - the one man New Zealand symphony orchestra.

Had a lovely weekend with PS; Tea at Pizza Hut, Flight of the Conchords, Staying over and seeing his lovely mother, Shopping, hand-holding, a trip to the art gallery, going to see iron man, and a cheeky glass of wine in the printworks. Feeling smitten once again, and cannot wait for York adventures, and the end of judicial duties!

I'm a happy girl.

2010-05-10T11:58:00.000-07:00

Great things about stealing your boyfriend's warm jumpers/coats (and keeping them)?

1. Having something cosy and oversized to cuddle up in
2. The faint smell of aftershave
3. The reappearance of his old favourites (The WW2 style military jacket that makes him look like a jaunty pilot? mmmm)

You're never getting your hoodie/cardigan/leather jacket back, Paul. Sorry!

Whiggish Optimism

2010-05-07T08:27:00.000-07:00

So it looks like my jury service period has been extended, which is irritating, especially as the boyfriend has booked off next week for some 'quality time' :| I was excited for an entire week of joyous hand holding and jaunts, but it looks like that will be impeded just a little bit. Oh well.
At least this case is entertaining though, though I am bound by solemn oath in silence, I will simply say that the defendant is naturally hilarious, and I keep having to stifle giggles, which is really hard as the seriousness of the courtroom only makes it worse. I keep thinking the judge is going to tell me off, and I know for a fact that would only make it worse - A stern man in a curly wig will never not be funny.

But, over the past few days, several interesting and lovely things have happened.
The first of which was a running into of an old friend on the train, who I literally haven't seen in years (About 2, though that sounds very dramatic) Was lovely to catch up, and even better to realise he still lived round the corner from my house!

Then we had a jurors' night out yesterday which was brilliant. Lovely people, Good food, cheap wine and crazy dancing in Preston :)

I also recently got a visitor counter thing for this blog, as I was curious about how many people, if any, actually bothered reading my ramblings. After a few days, I was really really surprised, so thank you lovely people for being interested :)

Tomorrow I have plans with Mr.Smith for Flight of the Conchords fun, so this evening will be spent hatching a cunning plan to kidnap Brett :)

Also, gutted I didn't get to vote :( An early start and a late night meant no time to nip to my voting station - actually really annoyed with myself, I need to prioritise! :(

Essential Book Reading Top 5

2010-05-05T14:53:00.001-07:00

I think I might start printing this list and carrying multiple copies of it in my bag, so I can thrust it at people and insist they read each book as a prerequisite for being my
friend/future-husband/general-acquaintaince
as I feel each one sums up an aspect of my
outlook/life/idealism-on-the-state-of-mankind

1. F Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night
2. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
3. Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
4. John Keats, Complete Poems
5. Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

I'll give you a high 5 and lifelong
friendship/marriage/acquaintance
if you take the initiative :)

Tender is the Night

2010-05-05T14:22:00.000-07:00

"There was some element of loneliness involved--so easy to be loved--so hard to love."
- Book 3, Ch. 2

"We can't go on like this--or can we?....What do you think?... Some of the time I think its my fault--I've ruined you."
- Book 3, Ch. 5

"Then why did you come, Nicole? I can't do anything for you anymore. I'm trying to save myself."
- Book 3, Ch. 9

"Nicole's world had fallen to pieces, but it was only a flimsy and scarcely created world."
- Book 2, Ch. 7

"He remembered once when the grass was damp and she came to him on hurried feet, her thin slippers drenched with dew. She stood upon his shoes nestling close and held up her face, showing it as a book open at a page. "Think how you love me," she whispered, "I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me they'll always be the person I am tonight."
- Book 2, Ch. 7

Tender is the Night is possibly my favourite novel in existence. I've always loved Fitzgerald as an author, and The Great Gatsby would definately be in the top ten as well - It's his style of writing, it's heartbreakingly beautiful. He seems to have such an insight into the human mind, yet he expresses everything in such a florid way that it seems more like prosaic poetry than anything else.
Also, as a John Keats fan, I'm always going to enjoy a cheeky reference to the great Ode to a Nightingale. I love the fact that an author I love would count one of my favourite poets as one of his favourite too.
Now I just need to change my name to Zelda and timewarp back to the '20s. :)

Happy Lists

2010-05-04T13:15:00.000-07:00

Things I am looking forward to in the coming weeks:

1. Flight of the Conchords next Saturday with Paul and co.
2. Staying at Paul's and basically spending the Weekend with him.
3. JPB returning to Blackpool before jetting off on Peruvian adventures.
4. A week off with Paul, and the possibility of a romantic adventure and overnight stay.
5. Uni work being done and dusted.
6. Summer weather

I am enjoying feeling loved up and smitten again :)

I've also been thinking alot about things that I would like to do this summer:
1. Gain some proficiency in keyboard playing.
2. Do more sewing
3. Do more baking
4. Organise a themed dinner party with the lovelies, and go all out crazy with culinary delights, homemade tableware and fancy schmancy outfits.
5. Try and badger people into going on adventures in the Lake District, with bribes of picnics
6. Train the new pet turtles in the art of synchronised swimming.

May Day May Day

2010-05-02T15:39:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is May Bank Holiday.

Unfortunately, I will not be dancing around phallic symbols, nor will I be crowned a May Queen. Gutted.

Tiny Turtle Twins

2010-05-02T15:17:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the family! :)

I accompanied the Father on a tour of all the fish shops looking for something suitably horrible and 'gnarly' for the back room aquarium. While he looked for some kraken-like beast, I fell in love with the tiniest turtles I had ever seen. Seriously, they were unbearably cute, and I quickly regressed to my inner five year old, with the wheedling weapon of 'Daaaaaaaad'. I think their appeal was the fact that they looked like perfect miniature turtles, as opposed to those horrible terrapin things, which are clearly the freshwater equivalent of chavs. No, these little beauts were about 2 inches big and would only grow to about 4 (another bonus, I think with animals, small = cute, and the basis of the turtles' appeal rested upon these aesthetic virtues).

So we decided to go back home and search the attic for a suitable tank/aquarium thing (we tend to have a bigger collection of these than most normal families) but, deciding we didn't have anything perfect, we called into another shop to pick one up. In my Father's usual fashion of enthusiasm-filled generosity, we went a bit mad with turtle home paraphernalia before we drove to pick them up. The fish-shop man seemed to be a bit grabby with his animals, and you only needed to express an interest in something for him to stick his hand in the tank and haul it out. Now, if you've never picked up a turtle, I'd suggest it's something to do before you die, its expression is possibly the funniest thing I've ever seen an animal do. It's actually like this:

So that little face firmly cemented our new friends in my affection. Which is a good job, really, because apparently they live for up to 60 years.

Oh, and if you're interested, Dad got a lobster. It's actually quite pretty, in an ugly sort of way.

Delta Goodrem,

2010-05-02T15:09:00.000-07:00

Why can't I look like you, with your flowing hair and Australian tan?

I think this new envy has stemmed from multiple 'ugly days', and the subsequent frustration with my lacklustre locks and pale complexion :( Tomorrow, I'm getting out the hair extensions and fake tan.

Fun in the judicial system

2010-04-28T14:13:00.000-07:00

Orrrr not,
Despite my previous enthusiasm, I have quickly discovered that jury duty is like being in a doctors lounge for 10 straight days, not even knowing if you'll have an appointment. Cue lots of daytime TV, polite small talk with your fellow in-mates, an extremely poor selection of readers digest books, resortment to crosswords, trying to goad people into challenging you to trivial pursuit, and the one case you finally get turning out to be being ridiculously pointless.
Luckily I quickly made a few lunch buds, so, in our brief escape and respite, the highlight of every day is the choice of location for lunch. I am estimating a weight increase of approximately 3 pounds.

Thank God courts are closed on Bank holiday Mondays!

Scottish JOY

2010-04-14T13:22:00.000-07:00

So I'm still on my JPB holiday, enjoying beautiful weather and lovely times with my favourite girl :) We have made a good few lovely friends, gone on picnics, built dens and watched films, and had lovely day trips. We had an adventure in Edinburgh, which was absolutely gorgeous and tourist heaven, so we explored castles, went in dungeons and I was taught the ways of highland dancing by a bagpipe player :)

I think this sums up the day quite nicely, look at my tourist's face of pure joy.

Scottish Fun

2010-04-09T03:55:00.001-07:00

Miss you Mama, but I'm enjoying the kilts.

you know you're cool when your mum follows your blog ;)

Unravelling

2010-04-08T11:30:00.000-07:00

The literature mystery,
apparently the poem is 'Sunrise' by George Heath, from his collection, Heart Strings.
I've taken a look at some of his other work, and it's just as beautiful, I really love 'Rudyard' as well. What a lovely way to be opened up to a new, very very enjoyable poet. I found it really interesting that the poem was published in 1866, my book was given in 1893, thats not long after. How I would love it if our contemporary poetry was as florid and beautiful. The 19th Century seemed to have the best poets.

Update: 9th April
It turns out George Heath actually went to the Wesleyan Sunday School, the same place where my book was awarded from! What a coincidence!
He seemed to have quite a tragic life, he died at the age of 25 of consumption, and though his work was appreciated on publication, he never really attained great fame. Even now, I've been surprised at the lack of information I can find about him. I found one really good site, with his memoirs and poems, and it details his life. From what I've read of his character, he seems a great man. He only took up the study of literature and the hobby of poetry after his diagnosis of consumption, when he wasn't sure there was even any point in it. But his motivation in the acquisition of knowledge was astounding, and he set himself up to learn everything he could about the things that interested him; books, history, arithmetic, botany. The thing is, he did all this knowing he was going to die eventually, he could have just given up, yet he embarked on a new quest. I find that really inspiring.

Turns out Mr Heath was buried in Endon, too, in their local church. His poems seemed to suggest he'd always been scared of dying and being buried and forgotten, without even a headstone. But after he died, the local pastor and his friends paid for a beautiful cross to be put above his grave. I really want to go and explore Endon, and am glad I found out about George Heath, as otherwise I'd never have known where the Sunday School was.

A Scottish Adventure.

2010-04-08T11:20:00.001-07:00

'Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly, Tell!
Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
To bear too tender, or to firm a heart,
To act a lover's, or a Roman's part?
Is there no bright reversion in the sky,
For those who greatly think, or bravely die?'

-Alexander Pope.

After a rather hectic trip to Manchester, I was picked up by JPB and stayed at hers so I could be up super early for our trip to Dundee! We had a lovely train journey up here, having girly chats, literature discussions, and general giggling - it was much overdue.
So things seem pretty good, I have 9 days of joy here, with the love of my life, and the possibility of also meeting up with some Scottish friends. I think it'll be nice to get away from everything for a while - things have seemed pretty intense and unenjoyable at the moment. Some fresh air will do me good, maybe put that bright glow on things again.

My song of the moment is 'Rollin' Home' by Tyler Hilton. It reminds me why I love acoustic, he's a good egg.

A literary mystery...

2010-04-07T11:23:00.000-07:00

About a year ago I purchased the most beautiful book of Alexander Pope's collected works; It genuinely is one of the most decorative and lovely old books I have ever seen. Its charm also lies in its age, affixed to the front cover is a certficate from the Wesleyan Sunday School, presenting the book as a reward for 'Punctual attendance and good behaviour during the year 1893'.
The mystery began, however, when I decided to look properly through the book today. Tucked into one of the pages was a clipping from another poem,

''Slow creeps the light athwart the concave still,
Steals the low whisper on the breathless calm,
Bringing the scent of opening flowers, a balm;
Breaks o'er the earth a grand rapturous thrill,
The chant of waters, and the song-bird's trill;
The clouds fold up their curtains, snowy white;
The sleeping stars fade noiselessly from sight;
Bright phoebus mounts above the crimson hill;
The sheeted mists like baffled hosts retire,
Wan Zephyr comes to wanton with the flowers;
The stream meanders on, a string of fire,
And light and music fill earth's sylvan bowers.
Bright dewdrops shine and tremble everywehere,
O sceptic, look and blush, for God is there!''

How lovely! So my detective senses are raring, it is going to be my project to find out what the poem is and where Wesleyan Sunday School was, and its history. I wonder if the person who put the clipping in the book was the same boy who received it as a prize, and I wonder if he could have possibly thought that someone would find it 117 years later.

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;

2010-04-07T10:47:00.000-07:00

what is essential is invisible to the eye.

"People have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems. For my businessman, they were gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else."

-The Little Prince.

I love you...

2010-03-30T13:20:00.000-07:00

little cat, how you enjoy spending your day sleeping on my bed, curled up on your little sheepskin blanket, purring away because you're so happy and warm :)

One Summer...

2010-03-27T17:47:00.000-07:00

I will own a retro caravan and tour the haunts of the lakeland poets with my literature-minded friends. We will drink tea, have picnics, and camp under the stars in a world far away from any city.

Provincial Life Begins...

2010-03-27T17:23:00.000-07:00

Well, last night was the last night of city living, and I genuinely had the most amazing night I think I've ever had. You know one of those where EVERYTHING seems absolutely perfect? PS and I arranged our last date night, and decided to go to La Tasca, a restaurant we'd never been to before. For once, I wasn't running late, I also felt lovely in a little black dress and amazing shoes and had Rapunzel hair. I then booked a taxi who arrived promptly and had the friendliest driver I'd ever had, we chatted about english literature, and he told me his life story, which was actually pretty interesting. I got there (Early) and met PS who arrived with almost perfect timing, and we got our table. As I said before, everything was actually perfect, it was cosy and intimate with beautiful decor and fantastic service, and I can't stop thinking about how delicious the food was!
After a perfect meal, we went to the wine bar where we'd had our first date, and had black russians to drink.

After a lovely evening, we awoke to a lovely morning, and PS went to work. I then finished packing all my stuff, read a book and eagerly awaited my parent's arrival. I saw them out of my bedroom window and my Dad's little face was so happy, and he gave me the warmest hug. We then put all my stuff in the car and had a mini jaunt into town, looking at the Northern Quarter and the Chinatown. After a bus ride and a car trip, I was home and spent the evening literally throwing EVERYTHING that was in my room away, and unpacking my stuff from uni. Surprisingly, it didn't take that long to get organised and my room finally feels like a bedroom. Spent some enjoyable family time watching Disney youtube videos and singing along and then had a phone call from my best friend, who is unexpectedly coming from the highlands to visit for a few days :D

Life cannot get much better!

Easter Joy.

2010-03-26T04:06:00.000-07:00

Exam is done which means it is time for joyous Easter fun!
Can't wait to be at home with the girls, and I leave the city for provincial life tomorrow! Very very sad that I'm leaving behind the beau, but excited at homely stability and my beautiful friends :)
My old sixth form also said I could help out as an assistant for some teaching experience, as the dreaded PGCE application is coming up fairly soon. Really happy as they're all my old favourites, so it should be good times indeed!
I have a few things to look forward to in the next few weeks though, a lovely trip to Dundee to see my love of loves, and a few days off with PS, and a nice search for JPB's annual Easter card (you know she loves the J man)
Things are good!

Heathcliff...

2010-03-24T10:42:00.000-07:00

Byron with a bum chin?

Austen and the Brontes class test revision will dominate the evening. Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre and Persuasion are on the menu. Beautiful.

(Is it wrong that I just want to prance around like Kate Bush?)

Hello, dream house.

2010-03-23T11:49:00.000-07:00

Well, I remembered why I adore 'Period Living' magazine.

2010-03-23T11:10:00.001-07:00

Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.
-Oscar Wilde

A Pennine Adventure

2010-03-23T10:09:00.000-07:00

Well, there appeared a slight hitch to the plan for a trip to the pennines. Foul weather, an ill boyfriend and his inappropriate choice of footwear meant that Edale and Hope Valley was off the menu, leaving us in thorough need of a location for our jaunt extraodinaire.
We settled on Buxton, a nearby spa town (on PS's recommendation!) and got super cheap cheap tickets there (£12 for both of us! Far better than my costly excursion, but then I never have been one to budget) and hopped on a train. It only took about an hour, and we were there.
It was really picturesque, a lovely mixture of the old and new, and we had a beautiful time exploring. Paul brought a camera which I quickly appropriated and started snapping away with all the enthusiasm of a Japanese tourist. They had a 'pleasure garden' which made me feel like Evelina, where I discovered this little beaut:

(I particularly enjoy his flirtatious eye and hair flick)

Cue excited shouts of 'PAUL!PAUL!look what I found!' 'What?!' 'The bastard offspring of a turkey and a duck!!'

We had fun at The Railway pub where we had possibly the best pub food I've ever had in my entire life - beef/yorkshire pudding ROLL (yes, ROLL) with chips and peas. mmmm. And explored some quaint little shops, where I found my spiritual home in 'AtticusBoo' (A nod to 'To Kill a Mockingbird' perhaps?)which was the quirkiest little shop jam packed with Cath Kidston stuff and other adorable scruffy-chic vintage style items from independent designers. I got a bit grabby, quite an accomplishment considering I was travelling like the queen with not a shilling on me, but Paul treated me to some lovely book plates with an old picture of the Eiffel tower on (I don't know why I am so drawn to things with the Eiffel tower on, perhaps they remind me of some glorified vision of home?) so I was a happy bunny.

I basically decided that Buxton was a place I would rather like to live in. I got very excited when we climbed to the top of a hill and I saw my dream house, with a bright red door, situated two doors down from an adorable florist.

So all in all it was a very successful day! We went home late afternoon, watched a film and we sketched birds and wrote poetry. I was very happy.

Bright Star

2010-03-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

Nobody cares about your bonnets, Fanny.

Home

2010-03-21T17:21:00.000-07:00

Things to look forward to when I move home:

1. My comfy bed
2. Quality mama time
3. Healthy eating
4. More exercise!
5. A summer with my best friends
6. My new Victorian mirror and dressing table set from Past Times
7. A hopeful redecoration of my room
8. Adventures with Dad
9. Getting back into cooking/baking/sewing.
10. A fresh start!

Things I will miss:
1. Paul
2. Uni

Last Week of City Life...

2010-03-21T16:34:00.000-07:00

So this weekend has been eventful.
I finished working for KG(3 cheers!) on Wednesday, as I'm moving back home in a week now! So I went for leaving drinks with a few of the girls and James and PS. I proceeded to get very merry, until we left and I blacked out, and don't remember much about what happened later. Turns out I kept passing out and being sick, and Paul thinks that maybe something was put in my drink, which isn't a pleasant thought. Anyway, I have genuinely never felt so ill in my life, and spent all of Saturday being sick and feeling like I'd been run over by a double decker bus multiple times. Not very nice. On the plus side, the boyf. really came through and looked after me in the most lovely way possible. All I can remember on Sat. morning (apart from being horrendously sick) are flashbacks of having my forehead stroked and being cuddled, it made an otherwise horrible time very lovely.

So this is my last week in the city!
It shall be spent:
1. With no work (yay!)
2. With a class test (boo!) But, on Austen and the Brontes, so at least I shall enjoy the revision
3. A trip to the Pennines with the beautiful beau, lovely scenery, fresh air and hand holding!
4.Packing and a brief early morning visit from mama to pick up some stuff
5. With a revision lunch date with a lovely uni friend.
6. With my last date night while I live here! :(

So all in all, rather sad. But I shall enjoy it for what it is!
I am actually really looking forward to moving back home. I think there are some things that really need to change in order for me to be really happy, and I think home will help with that. I can't wait for proper food, cuddles with mother and copious amounts of clean laundry!

Anyway, bedtime for me, as I need to be up bright and early for fun pennine adventures.

New Start, New Frame of Mind.

2010-03-21T16:12:00.000-07:00

So this is the start of the new.
I have decided to make a blog that will remind me of the beautiful, happy things in life, and focus on the positives. At the minute, my head seems swarming with all kinds of thoughts, and it seems that all I need is a swift overhaul, where I can return to my roots with a love of literature, baking, nature, and the simple things that make me truly happy.