who's that girl?

It is a well known fact that every hipster girl would like to be a little bit more like Zooey Deschanel and every hipster guy would like to make her breakfast. Probably. She's just cool, isn't she? She managed to make the film 'Elf' cool, even though she was blonde and very un-Summer, and she can pull off those glasses better than anyone...

Because I spend most of my time at my computer (comforted by the fact that I am still technically in Rome and could do loads of super-cool things if I wanted to), I have of course watched all of 'New Girl' about three times. I quite like it. It's funny though how it manages to irritate, bore and enchant me all at once. 'Jess' is a little bit ditsy and a little bit too kitsch, but while I'm not sure she's all that credible as a High School teacher, she's difficult to hate. Put aside for one moment the fact that nothing really happens, and consider instead just how stylish she is. Just look at her, look! Besides, perhaps t.v. doesn't have enough superficial, plotless programmes and is in need of a few more. Oh, wait... Also, when I came to my bi-monthly viewing of '500 Days of Summer', I was shocked at how much of a cow she was in comparison. I hope my enjoyment hasn't permanently been dented.

It's very snowy here and I have heard enough sirens in the last three days to last me a lifetime. It's odd, there's nobody around at all. Everyone is hibernating. The shops are closed, the shelves long-cleared of anything fresh or worth eating. Yesterday, we went to the Colosseum which was buzzing with Italians, with only a smattering of tourists. It was lovely to see people making the effort to go and see their city at its prettiest. It was a bad time however, to realise that I don't have any sensible shoes. Not a single pair. And by 'sensible', I mean not from New Look.

I hope Italy is a bit more mobile tomorrow (though there is another transport strike, so my hopes are not high) and most importantly that there is a supermarket within 5km which has managed to restock so I don't get stuck eating old bread and get scurvy. Again, I'm not hopeful.

 I can't wait for Spring.

medicine blues...

Apparently some people have had some snow. We do not, but it is certainly very cold. If it did snow, I would pretty much be screwed because all my shoes are made of muddy white canvas and I have no sense of balance. There isn't a cloud in the sky; it really is gorgeous out there. It feels like proper winter now. We've definitely escaped the fuzzy in-between stage (Autumn if we're being technical) and it's a definite excuse to spend too much money on gingerbread lattes in Costa.

Degrees are so very very hard, but they are not without reward. My French is definitely improving and even though I am definitely one of the less skilled linguists in my Italian group, it's quite astonishing how much I have learned in the past few weeks. Of course in the run up to the Christmas break, the next few weeks will be full of essays and assessments, but after this will follow a blissful month of laziness and presents and frosty walks. I'm never very enthusiastic about Christmas, but I am enthusiastic about gluttony and laziness which will be abundant in this holiday season. Also, Mum is going away which is always a bonus.

Between writing the last paragraph and this one, I went to Tesco and my mood changed significantly. I'm all coughy and snotty and tired.

Between writing the last paragraph and this one, night fell and I watched Beauty and the Beast and I came down with full-on flu. My muscles are aching and I'm shivery and far too hot and cherry tomatoes are all I can eat. I fell asleep for a bit, but now it's late and I'm wide awake and drugged up and all I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep for a few hours, but sleep isn't coming so I thought I'd continue this blog post. The one I started at lunchtime. When I was annoyingly happy.

Right, so I fell asleep again straight after I wrote that. It is now tomorrow and I feel ten times better. At least this post if nothing else has illustrated how fragmented my writing style is and how my mood meanders quite significantly. I'm going to go now. My day will be one of slippers and honey and translation. Can't complain with that!

you are my sweetest downfall...

It's a little too late to be doing this, but I was in the mood, so doing it I am. I'm yet to decide whether that sentence makes sense.

I'm home. Home in Kidderminster, that is, not campus home. We had a bit of a bonfire last night, which could have been much more shit than it actually was. There was food and company and beer. I was satisfied.

Tonight, we went to a Diwali celebration at a friend's house in Kidderminster. Sparklers never seem to lose their appeal. Helen and I spent lots of time playing with funny filters on Ajay's fancy camera while the boys played some kind of duller than dull football game. Again, there was lots of nice food and I feel thoroughly stuffed.

I love Regina Spektor. I have for a long time. I went to see her a few years back at the height of my obsession. Since then, I have discovered lots and lots of bands and my music taste has changed quite radically, but she's the one I always find myself coming back to. She's just so cool with her Soviet charm and unique voice. I. Love. Her. Anyway, because she's so prolific, it's easy to discover something of hers that you've never heard before.

I must have listened to this at least twenty times in the past few days since hearing it in my coffee-filled state at some obscene hour of Friday morning when striving to finish my abysmal essay on Annie Ernaux's ambivalence to her past (yes, I know).

This one is pretty...

And this one's just plain odd...

Happy listening, and good night! ♥

I have just realised that everything in this post has been positive. It even contains a heart(!) I can only apologise, and promise to be more like myself next time!

she's got everything to gain 'cos she's a fat girl with a lisp...

I only ever really write a blog post when there's something important I need to be doing. Something other than writing a blog post. It's reading week next week. Expect lots of blog posts.

Today has been a good day. I feel like I have been fairly productive despite the fact that I have done nothing. Which is an achievement in itself. My stomach muscles have also just about recovered from the amount of laughing I did while watching 'I Love You Man' last night. The film wasn't even that funny. The cackles of my flatmates enhanced the experience 100%.

As I said, next week is reading week. This can only mean one thing - there is no longer a valid excuse to not go home. It's not even like I live far away or the train journey will be expensive. If home wasn't so unpleasant approximately 73% of the time, I'm sure I would be looking forward to it, but while other people are looking forward to returning to their warm houses full of wholesome meals and welcoming parents, I am not. Last winter, our house was not heated at all; the central heating had broken and Mum chose to wait until May to get it fixed. Right now, my house does not have a functioning shower, certainly will not have any food - other than soft biscuits and curdled milk - and contains my mother.

Now, don't get me wrong, if she was around all the time, I would complain about that, too. She is a very difficult person to live with, and it's nice that she isn't always under our feet, however, it would be nice if sometimes she was a little more maternal. I actually can't remember the last time she cooked a meal, or the last time we all sat at the dining table. It's funny how family dynamics can shift so dramatically.

This month is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. I am not partaking, but I love the idea of a bunch of young writers pushing themselves to find ways of expressing themselves by putting words onto paper. I would have loved to have given it a go, but as I can barely complete the work I already have, I thought it best to leave it until next year when I will surely be bored and lonely in Italy. I also feel like I would be incredibly ashamed of whatever I managed to come up with. Novels just don't happen at the age of eighteen, do they? So while one day, I will almost certainly come up with a pile of literary shite full of all my deepest thoughts and fears, I'm far too happy to do it now. We all know that books written by the content are always atrocious. I'll wait until I'm miserable again.

Sigh...

open wide, here comes original sin.

Hello there. It's Tuesday and I thought I'd write a blog. As yet, I'm not sure what I'm going to talk about, but that doesn't usually stop me.

Right now I'm in the sort of mood where I'd like nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget about the world, but instead I'm opting for listening to pretty music on headphones so I don't annoy everyone else. I've been working for probably the last time today. It was pleasant but tiring, and I got a really odd night's sleep last night, so I'm a little bit dazed.

At some point this week, I'm going to need to pack; a daunting and unpleasant task which I am not looking forward to in the slightest.

Sometimes I act like a twat. It's usually covering up the fact that I am in fact incredibly shy. Bear with me, I'll try to be a more rounded, nicer person. I mumble too, apparently. Again, it's the shy thing.

These are my favourite songs of all time (right now):

• First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes

• No Children - The Mountain Goats

• Lover, You Should Have Come Over - Jeff Buckley

• Flux - Bloc Party

• Burning Benches - Morning Runner

• If You Can't Sleep - She & Him

• Expectations - Belle and Sebastian

• Eskimo - Damien Rice

• Heartbeats - Jose Gonzalez

• Unfinished Sympathy - Massive Attack

• There is a Light that never goes out - The Smiths

• Boys don't cry - The Cure

• Street Spirit - Radiohead

That will do for now. I will probably delete this post later when I am in a more rational/alive mood.

Just because I think it's beautiful. I think Mr Burton still has my dvd...

Just because I think it's cool.

we'll meet in russian literature...

I was just feeding my dog and somehow managed to flick tripe down my top. This is quite an achievement considering the top in question was not low-cut in the slightest. My reaction was a little on the melodramatic side. My carnivorous former self would be ashamed.

I might start reading War and Peace, but it seems a little bit epic, and it's summer. Epic books are best left for the winter months when the outdoors no longer exist and we (I) retreat into our cosy winter shells.

My mum's in hospital for a bit (nothing too serious) so I have to get over myself and my all-consuming fear of hospitals and visit tomorrow. I'm not sure why I hate them so much, but I will not make the same mistake I have in the past of just not going at all. This seems a bit apathetic. From now on I will be perfect, superdaughter, armed with chocolate buttons and grapes. I hear ill people like grapes... It probably wouldn't be so bad if Helen wasn't in Madeira, because she has a superhuman tolerance for vomit and drips and all things clinical. She would probably calm me down a bit. I might buy myself a new iPod as a reward. Mine has never been the same since I washed it. Its fate was less severe than the phone I flushed down the toilet and the camera I killed in my bike spokes, however.

I realise that in the last week, I have written about absolutely nothing of any merit or interest, and for this I can only apologise. Perhaps tomorrow I will bring you a heavy, slightly obnoxious piece of prose on North Korea, or the plight of women (as you know I love doing), but today I'm not in the mood. Instead, I thought I'd just mention a few things I'm enjoying that are hovering about on the interweb at the moment.

• I really like the blog 'Dorothy Surrenders', which is very funny and intelligently written. Yes, it's written by a lesbian for lesbians and about lesbians, but I rather like it. I particularly like the thought of themed blogs according to the day on which they were written, such as 'Tank Top Tuesday' and 'Gender fuck Thursday'. Excellent.
• After having mentioned 'Alex Reads Twilight' last time, I have discovered his friend and flatmate Charlie's video blog. Turns out I'm fairly out of touch with this one, as he's been rambling on and strumming his ukulele for quite some time. Regardless, I quite like him.
• jezebel.com is the sort of writing I aspire to. It has a great mix of trashy celebrity gossip and more serious subjects such as cats eating peanut butter...
• While the Sartorialist will always have a place in my heart, Hollie Templar (whose blog I visit sometimes just for its sheer beauty) linked me to this site earlier today and I fell in love. This is the cherry on top of my cake of Scandinavian obsession...
• The 'Life and Style' section of the Guardian never fails to throw up something of interest. And even if the subject matter is trashy, the writer always manages to put a homely, middle-class glaze on everything.
• Yes, I've linked to it before, but frankly, it deserves two mentions. Sarah and I saw a boy in deck shoes reading Moby Dick in our hostel in Berlin. She commented on it, and I made a reference to this wonderful, wonderful blog, but was shocked when she knew nothing about it. Sarah, you are welcome. Just while I'm on the topic (feel free to skip this part if you are short of time/have a life) I feel the need to mention a second hand bookshop we found in deepest, darkest Berlin. It was run by two English guys, one of whom looked like Jarvis Cocker and was tuning bongos. We went in and found ourselves in heaven. There were gorgeous old Penguin books for €2, a massive poetry section, and all sorts of bizarre German comic books. They made us a cup of tea, and we must have spent at least an hour there. It was just brilliant...
• Finally, LaBlogotheque, Black Cab Sessions and watchlistentell are all great ways to discover interesting new bands...
  

winter's waiting...

Today has been dismal, but in a brilliant way. I listened to Regina Spektor which got me in the mood to watch 500 Days of Summer which got me in the mood to listen to The Smiths which got me in the mood to wallow a bit which got me in the mood to eat Weetos from the box. After that of course, I needed some refreshment, so drank seven hundred cups of tea and quietly seethed for the hour the Cretin was in my house.

So while today has been sort of fun, tomorrow it is time to get out of the house. I may go to church for the first time since Easter because in a couple of weeks I will be in a field with thousands of God types and I don't want to let the side down. I may dig out my walking boots for the first time since Duke of Edinburgh and walk the dog all day long, just for the hell of it. I may go shopping for the first time in hours because it's nearly Autumn, and this can only mean one thing. Knitwear. Normally, I dread the longer nights and slippery pavements, but not this year. This year, I'm ready for it. After all, Winter has many perks: duffel coats and hot water bottles, cableknit and boots, bonfires and an excuse to be miserable, to name but a few.

If you haven't already come across 'Alex Reads Twilight' (which I'm sure you have), I urge you to watch. Unless you are a fan of the books. I personally feel unable to mock them without having read a word, so I take great pleasure in watching someone else do it. He's Quite funny...



So yes, two blogs in two days. This is because I wrote nothing but postcards for three weeks so I have been itching to get something down. Just don't get used to it...

(Just to get you in a wallowy Winter mood).

and so the tears begin to fall...

I am filled with the sort of divine happiness only achievable when the sun shines this brightly. In two days, my skin has gone from hopelessly pasty and a little bit corpse-like to having a nice sunkissed glow (or something like that). I'm such a summer person, I really am. The only things that get me through the winter are scarves and duffel coats, but otherwise I really do dislike it quite a lot. This is mostly because I am perpetually cold and I hate living in the almost constant darkness winter invariably brings. Today, however it is difficult to imagine even the existence of winter. Today it burns your feet to walk on the same patio we had to shovel snow from in the winter. Mind boggling...

This week is bound to be eventful and emotional as we leave Haybridge forever. It's strange. I've been there a third of my life, which makes me feel both terrified and really rather young. I'm not quite sure how to feel about it all. Even though I'm certain I could not stand being there for another year, this week has arrived pretty quickly and I will be so sad to leave. While at that school, I have gone from an awkward, nerdy twelve year old with no confidence to a slightly less awkward, possibly even nerdier adult. I'm still working on the confidence thing...

On Saturday, I have to battle with my unavoidable hangover to get on a train in Birmingham by nine in the morning. I am now cursing myself for booking such an early train, but I'm sure the destination will make it worthwhile. I'm off to the lovely Croyde in north Devon. We go every year with half of Stourbridge and even if the weather is shoddy, a good time is always had. Unfortunately, I must put up with the presence of my overbearing, manipulative, inconsistent mother and her cretinous boyfriend who I suspect does not possess enough brain cells to even pronounce the word manipulative. I am determined to enjoy myself nevertheless because I love long, solitary train journeys and though I have been to several places much more exotic, there is something about Croyde that makes it a strong contender for my favourite place in the world. So even though I am sure this beautiful weather will exhaust itself long before this weekend, I am excited. And I vow that I will make it into the sea (but wetsuits are such a faff aren't they? I have been known to go in wearing just a bikini at this time of year, but I fear that I may have lost some of the stupidity of my youth, so we'll have to see.)

I will put up photos of all the lovely goings on this week for those of you bored enough to care about the things that happen in my life. To do this, however, I may have to buy a camera. It'll have to be identical to the old one too, as my mother bought it for me and I don't quite have the heart to tell her that I lost it months ago. Goodbye money, it was nice while it lasted.