the blessed cracker

pinch

2011-04-24T09:59:00.002+01:00

My exams are in less than two weeks. In two and a half, I will be back at work. I can't wait; for the challenge, for the elated exhaustion of doing a job really well.

I also can't wait for the inevitable weight loss. I'm a bit disgusted at myself, which upsets me more than the extra pounds really. I'm by no means huge, I'm just a little heavier than I like to be. I don't like this mindset, where I avoid mirrors and obsess over my waist measurement.

I accepted that I'd always struggle with my weight several years ago, now. I've been 81 kilos; I've been 59. I'm probably about 62 at the moment (I don't want to get on the scale).

At just 5'3", three kilos make a lot of difference. At 59 I am pretty much a size eight (not in jeans), waist measurement of about 27 inches. At 62 I am a solid size ten, waist measurement of about 29 inches. I am quite a muscular girl; I build it quickly, and my legs are as solid as they were a year ago, when I did strength work regularly. My core strength has gone to shit, though; an hour's yoga leaves me shaking where six months ago, even, I'd have done an hour and a half and felt invigorated.

Ugh, even the fat rant makes me feel angry with myself. Why am I whinging about half a stone when I was once twelve and a half? I know how hard it is to lose weight, and to keep it off.

And, it's Easter Sunday. Christos anesti; alithos anesti. I hope you are celebrating with friends, family or chocolate, or in any way that makes you happy.

and finally

2011-04-18T22:16:00.002+01:00

Some good news.

My boy is moving to London, in August. We house hunt lazily, drifting past windows and fantasising about what we'd have, if we could afford it.

I can't wait.

weekend

2011-03-11T18:12:00.002Z

Friday is always just a little bit magical, don't you think? Waking up in the knowledge that tomorrow is a lie in, that work today will be paper shifting and gossip.

Still, Saturday lunchtime is the perfect moment for me; the time when school achingly drew to a close, now the time when I sit with the newspapers and a glass of wine, lazily sketching in half known answers in the general knowledge crossword.

hefty

2011-03-10T07:23:00.002Z

I weighed 59 kilos when I had my accident in December (I remember being grateful for this as the man who saved my life hauled me bodily onto the platform). I've since barely been to the gym (laziness born from broken routine) and I've been eating wantonly. Hello, three extra kilos.

Bizarrely this used to be my "happy weight". It certainly seems to be where my body settles when I'm neither working too hard at being slim or ignoring it entirely. I don't know why my attitude has shifted. My therapist would probably say it's something to do with getting back to where I was before the accident.

numerate

2011-03-09T19:32:00.002Z

The benefit of suffering another day of accounting tuition is the knowledge there is one less to go. Air conditioned horrors of white painted classrooms, hands stained with biro.

The colleague to the right offers a finished answer, eyebrow raised. No point, no point; I cannot translate.

Misery of mathematical memory. My self worth takes a battering.

things acquired free in the last two weeks

2011-03-08T20:54:00.003Z

A bag of soya products (revolting).
A man's razor (new).
Blackberry Torch (!)
Rescue Remedy chewing gum (as weird as it sounds).
Knowledge that I will barely scrape through the accountancy exam I am taking in May.

Ooh! There's a new Kitsune album out. Excuse me.

early

2011-02-27T18:05:00.003Z

It's half seven and I am asleep, curled on my side after a late bedtime. He nudges me awake, hands on my back, and I slither over into his arms, what's wrong?

Those worries you have before the day gets truly light are the worst, grey sadness, limbo of pre-action. We drift in and out of sleep until the room is brighter.

I wait and wait for the weekend where he won't leave on Sunday, where we won't hold these concerns (just others) between us in the stillness of the morning. Where we have all week (all life) and he won't wake so early, so sad.

vday #3

2011-02-13T15:50:00.003Z

(last year here)

Yesterday we spent the day in Kensington, visiting the Natural History Museum and Kitchen W8, then lazily browsing the shops in the clearest, sunniest weather we've had since before Christmas. It was decadent and perfect, and it went all too fast.

I suppose it isn't surprising a day disappears at such a rate when I can barely believe it's two years since we drove to Tintern Abbey, eating chocolate all the way. I love thinking of moments in those first few months, the fizz of excitement being with someone new and wonderful (and I still get excited, every Friday, every time I know I'm going to see him) and how I knew, smiling at him by the tube stop on the Goldhawk Road, that it would last. And, oh, how I hope that whatever happens in these next months we will still feel this way.

Since I last wrote an awful lot has happened and as a result of a terrible accident I have post-traumatic stress symptoms. Life has been pretty fucking awful. Things are much better (counselling and supportive friends and family; and him, of course, his constant mopping of tears and telephone calls) but I'm not myself. It's an odd existence.

I am also trying to fit the puzzle pieces of our lives together, we are both trying. I will never stop trying.

update of sorts

2010-12-17T20:01:00.003Z

I'm still here, lurking (not sure you can lurk on your own blog, though).

I'm sick after a month of dodging the flu going around the office, sick on my day off, sick for the weekend I was meant to be in Edinburgh. Of course I am.

I am terrible at taking time to rest, so, today, I have forced myself to do it. Sofa, blanket, TV, laptop. My job is quite demanding in terms of hours and brain power, though nothing as mad the time and energy my lawyer friends put in at their offices. I'm looking forward to the Christmas break.

I have enjoyed it though, for the most part. There are days that are beyond miserable, but that's true of any job, any life. I am not a corporate girl in the long run, that much is clear, but I guess I knew that, anyway.

So much else has happened that I can't talk about yet. But the thing that has emerged more than anything in the last three months is that I need to take more time for myself; I need to write more, if I am ever going to be anything I'm proud to be. And, I need to take more time to be with my friends.

Merry Christmas. It's unlikely I'll check in before then, as we know.

the thing is

2010-11-09T21:58:00.001Z

By Ellen Bass

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

here we go

2010-09-21T20:40:00.003+01:00

The first two days of work have been full of new faces and new rules to learn. It's Big School all over again.

I haven't been very well.

new

2010-09-16T20:34:00.006+01:00

I start my job on Monday. I am not sure I am supposed to write on the internet, any more.

I saw Miss McG today. South Kensington is a strange place, for me. One of my favourite weekends in London since I've lived here was spent at the Natural History museum (probably my favourite museum building), visiting the Darwin centre and skating on the ice rink. I didn't fall until we clambered out of our skates, slipping on a metal ramp. He still has the tickets pinned to his board, above his desk. I remember what I wore; checked skirt, warm jumper, furry hat.

Today we arrived too late for museums, so settled for coffee swamped with chocolate. September is a nostalgic month for me; for many, I think. It is five years since I went to university.

I am home alone, drinking red wine, remembering.

chill

2010-08-25T16:51:00.002+01:00

Brr. It feels like autumn crept in while I was in the gym this morning. I have a jumper and slippers on. I find it weird when the weather gets like this before my birthday; the August bank holiday is still summer, really.

But! It is going to be 40 degrees in Spain on Friday, so says the BBC.

I'm so sleepy. Want to eat junk food and watch rubbish on TV under a blanket. Definitely caused by this weird weather.

look up and on

2010-08-24T09:31:00.006+01:00

We are finally going on holiday on Thursday. And! I have a job to return to in September! And I am listening to Kurran and the Wolfnotes (as recommended by superfiona, hurrah for good music) and it is sunny (probably only for two minutes but oh, well).

Sunday night I drank too much on an empty stomach. This summer has been quite wine fuelled. I'm cutting back. I want to shift the five pounds I've gained, le sigh, from the increased partying and decreased gym time. This kind of happens automatically when term time rolls around again (does it ever stop feeling like "back to school"?) but I'm not often patient with weight loss.

Lots of admin to do for my new job. Glad all the necessary paperwork arrived before I go away.

tight

2010-08-05T20:44:00.004+01:00

Wow, I am tired. I don't think I've slept really well in weeks. My shoulders are so tense.

Wrote a much longer post about stress but I can't publish it. I am feeling pretty crap. I am not sure what happens next.

Three weeks until we go away.

xx

2010-07-29T21:11:00.002+01:00

I've got the XX's album pretty much on constant repeat these days, interspersed with girls singing about boys. Xx is how I sign my texts to him (and plenty of other people too, so this means nothing, really).

I wrote some more of my story today. It's about being lost in a place where you should be secure. It's all too close to life to be read by anyone I think.

I think I am only able to work on it when I am feeling okay though. When I am miserable I cannot see beyond that moment, dramatic and mired. I feel better this week, like I touched the ground days ago and am now looking up, again.

Kiss, kiss.

worry

2010-07-20T13:28:00.002+01:00

I am one of life's worriers. EA once told me there is a worry gene; she was celebrating the fact that she doesn't appear to have it.

I am worried I will not get the job I have an interview for this week. I am worried about what I will do if I do not. I want it, badly. I should stop telling people I have interviews, as the way I feel when I fail and have to pass the bad news on is becoming too much.

I am worried about the fact that I still don't feel right, even though the "bad" couple of months are now ostensibly in the past. I know this is chiefly down to my unemployment, but when all I need is a hug and it's out of reach I can't help but fret over how shit this is, sometimes.

Going home today. My sister is graduating tomorrow. I can't believe it's two years since I did.

party

2010-07-19T20:26:00.002+01:00

I am pretty exhausted after a weekend spent with my family. My Big Fat Greek Family, no less, at a Big Fat Greek Wedding. I successfully forgot every name I was told. Everyone told me I look like my Auntie Thora (actually my father's cousin), and I do, it is true. We ate lamb. We pinned money on the bride and groom and danced in a circle. At a guess there were 350 people at the wedding, and plenty of people were missing. Greeks do not do celebrations by halves.

And now I am listening to Coeur de Pirate and drinking a glass of wine and I really want to go to bed obscenely early. It's going to be a busy week, though mostly happy and with another celebration next weekend.

at last

2010-07-11T19:26:00.002+01:00

I feel I understand a little of how circumstance can destroy any relationship. I've not ever felt as low and helpless as I did on Friday, when I cried quietly down the phone. He was just as miserable. But eventually, at last, he walked through the door late that evening and we ate risotto outside and then went to the French wine bar I've been meaning to take him to forever. It felt like a holiday.

We've been to Hyde Park both Saturday and Sunday. London was so, so hot yesterday, sticky and humid and brightly pulsing. We ate at the Criterion and drank at another favourite French bar (La Boheme on Old Compton Street). We talked about everything apart from work.

I love London the most in the sunshine. The heat makes the tube almost unbearable, punishment by travel, but the weather gives the city such life. I am happier now than I have been in two months.

home again

2010-06-28T16:47:00.002+01:00

Getting out of bed yesterday was awful. I don't remember jet lag like that since I visted New Zealand in 2005. I feel less spaced today, and my sense of taste seems to have returned. Long haul really fucks with your mind and body.

So, wow, LA. People keep asking what it was like; was it what you expected? Kind of. I expected the writers and film guys and movie chat (which was fun). The people and the food and the things going on in the city are incredible; the place itself, a bit odd. I am used to London's busy flow of people. Everyone is in a car in LA. Public transport barely exists. I am lucky to know someone who was willing to show me around and take me to cool places. If you went on your own and without a car it would be pretty miserable.

Incredible things: watching Invasion of the Body Snatchers at the Hollywood Cemetery; Gogol Bordello at the Mayan Theatre (weird website); Anthropologie; Harold Lloyd silent shorts at the Cinefamily cinema; the Hollywood sign and the observatory building; the Korean BBQ truck (they gave us - three girls, admittedly - free food); the Cabazon Dinosaurs; the Ace Motel at Palm Springs; the iced coffee drinks at Koffi, also in Palm Springs; so much more... I'll write about some of it in more detail next time.

LA made me miss London, which was a shock. I have suddenly fallen in love with the city I live in.

LA

2010-06-23T04:07:00.003+01:00

LA is not like any other place I've ever been. I don't think I could ever live here.
I am not thin or cool enough, for a start.

(Determined to drop 10 pounds when I get home).

More when I return to the UK.

fly

2010-06-15T17:23:00.002+01:00

It has been a really tough two weeks. I am going away tomorrow for ten days, to stay with my amazing friend AL who I haven't seen in three years. I am excited though utterly exhausted, having spent last night at a ball in Cambridge that was boozy and wonderful and sparkly and full of music and dancing. I haven't seen him relax like that in so long and it was so good to just be together, happy.

When I come home I am hoping we can move away from the stress. He will have finished the piece of work that is causing so many headaches and travel always gives me perspective.

It will be very weird not to hear his voice. We talk every night. The time difference will make that impossible.

wound

2010-06-12T14:10:00.004+01:00

I have felt terribly sad for about two weeks now. It is getting really wearing and I am scared I will not stop feeling like this.

I feel hurt, betrayed, unhappy, lost, uninspired, abandoned. There is no cure but time. Talking about it might help but I feel so utterly foolish, I cannot really bring myself to.

And this only makes it worse because spending time pretending I feel okay is exhausting.

mixing

2010-06-03T20:45:00.002+01:00

Quite without prompting I made my housemate a CD a few weeks ago. I also did the other housemate's laundry this morning, which prompted a guilt-fest about how I really should stop interfering with household tasks that aren't mine to do. Anyway. The CD was made in response to some music the first housemate was listening to. I labelled it "cool" music (note ironic quote marks) and made both housemates listen to it the night of the election while playing Scrabble and drinking wine. We are hip and urban, oh yes.

When I told my boyfriend what I'd done he got all pouty and wanted a CD of his own. I made him one, as one must always do with new other-halves, over a year ago, when we first got together. To my knowledge he has listened to it once, out of politeness. It is too "cool", I think. Anyway I am trying to make another but it is turning into a tour of my own musical history, rather than anything that features interesting new stuff I've bought recently. Any musical suggestions my dears?

Also - hello lawyer-person from Freshfields who found my blog through Google. That scared the life out of me until I remembered I haven't ever applied for Freshfields.

three

2010-05-30T20:49:00.002+01:00

The third anniversary of my fall sort of passed me by. I forgot all about it on the day, but I realised I'd missed it last week yet haven't written. It feels a bit false reflecting for the sake of it. Though that's often the way I spend time, thinking for the sake of thinking. Let's leave it, for now. The year has been wonderful. It has been full of change.

I am tired after the joys of Eurovision last night and I am at a bit of a loss as to how to tell you about the last few weeks. Since Easter life has got progressively more stressful and it isn't going to let up until the end of June. The next month might be pretty fucking miserable in patches, actually, but I have at least come to the conclusion that it won't RUIN EVERYTHING (with wringing of apron and mad stare) and that life will continue.

Also, June is full of amazing things to anticipate, so I will cease to be grumpy about the stress and just get a decent night's sleep and look forward to the bright moments.

things I want to do (part i)

2010-05-12T21:49:00.003+01:00

John Soane's house
the Dove pub in Hammersmith
rugby match at Twickenham (I've done this, but he hasn't)
Portobello Market (haven't been since I was sixteen, and I live twenty minutes away)
Bea's of Bloomsbury for afternoon tea (in my head it's a bit like a British Angelina's)
Gray's Market (antiques!)
catch the first tube home in the morning
yOyO at Notting Hill Arts Club on Thursday nights
go to Ginglik more
Tower of London/Crown Jewels
buy something in Liberty's

held

2010-05-03T16:28:00.003+01:00

"Why do you have a post-it with be accountable on it?"
I hesitate. "Let me finish drying my hair."

How did I forget to take that down? I run my hands through my hair, heat delaying my response, thinking through how I'll explain it.

I switch off the hairdryer. "Well?"
"Well. I put on a few pounds since Christmas" I have, hardly anything but I don't want it to be the start of an upward trend "and I know you don't notice, but it's just there to remind me. Don't sit at your desk and eat rubbish."
His eyes on me I go to him.

Later we're eating an amazing lunch and sharing a bottle of white. They clear the main course and I lean close to him and say I don't know if you meant to make me feel lovely, earlier, but you did.

Oh, and how.

this I know

2010-04-29T18:34:00.002+01:00

I cannot seem to stay happy at the moment. I feel like I've dropped through a hole somewhere, like my steady mood has been forgotten on a shelf. I am not high then low, rather merely okay and then really, really not okay. I haven't felt like this in so long.

When I went to bed last night I had a headache and I couldn't sleep. I don't really know what's wrong other than of course, of couse it's linked to how difficult getting started in law is proving to be and of course I am fed up and yes, I am very dramatic about it. I am very bored of feeling like this.

I was in central London today, having left my Oyster card and ipod at home, not a good start. I wanted to cry as I walked from New Bond Street, up Regent Street, along Oxford Street, there for no real reason other than I couldn't stand the silence at home.

Wow, that's self-indulgent. I'm going to book my aeroplane tickets to LA.

preparation

2010-04-28T14:23:00.004+01:00

We're on the telephone talking about the plans we have for the week. I have an interview the next day; he has a position to run for in the sailing team elections. I am tired but positive about the impending trip to another firm for another hour's tentative chat.

"I hope you get it." I say, after we've discussed what answers he'll give some silly questions they're going to ask.
"So do I. But I'd happily not take it if it meant you got the job."
And then my heart exploded.

not watching the debate

2010-04-22T19:32:00.004+01:00

Just made a curry type thing with the help of two gin and tonics. Recipe mainly stolen/inspired by Giles Coren's Esther (reciperifle.blogspot.com)... writing it down so I might remember what I put in it next time:

paste:
large bunch coriander, long stalk bits cut off
half an onion, chopped
two fat garlic cloves
an inch of ginger, skinned and chopped
one mostly deseeded green chili, chopped
juice of a lime

and:
half a tin of coconut milk
packet of cooked king prawns (160 ish g I think?)
handful mange tout
handful baby corn
noodles (for one)
sesame oil

first, make a big gin and tonic with a healthy squeeze of lime and lots of ice.

then:
whizz everything on paste list in blender. heat some sesame oil in a wok. chuck lots of paste in. fry a bit. put prawns in wok. fry a bit more then add half a tin of coconut milk (or lots if you like it v saucy) and simmer while you clean up the blender and enormous mess you made by chopping stuff and opening coconut milk (if you are me).

sort out noodles however you need to (I got microwaveable ones, Sharwood I think) and boil kettle. Cook mange tout and baby corn. Strain these, get noodles out microwave. Put noodles and veg back in saucepan. add half the prawn/coconut mixture to your noodles and veg. Stir and heat a bit more. make another gin and tonic and enjoy in the setting sunshine at your kitchen table.

PS: the prawn/coconut mix will feed me for two days, but you could double the noodles/veg and mix it all together to serve.

grey

2010-04-15T21:22:00.002+01:00

I am tired. I slept in the afternoon yesterday even though daytime napping is something I'm really not fond of.

Bit low. There are reasons I guess.

review

2010-04-12T17:59:00.003+01:00

I did okay with the Lent writing, I guess. Better with the chocolate (er, barring Paris).

I started two short stories in the last week, though neither are more than a hundred words yet.

Back at college today. Seven weeks of teaching left, three exams and its all over. We went to Bristol on Friday to separate parties and I drank too much (and so did he) and as we drove up to the University I said it breaks my heart, being back here.

I am still tired from that night out because I am old and, as we agreed on waking from a long afternoon nap, very much not undergraduates any more.

That's alright.

I'm in Spain

2010-03-31T17:51:00.004+01:00

"I brought you a present."
Dad proffers a pizza cutter. It has come free with wine. We already own three.
"No, thank you."
"Also there are some of these." Two wine coolers. Also free with alcohol.
"Er. You can buy those at home."
...
Later; I'm packing. He brings in eight steak knives. I put them in my bag, resigned.
(They did not come free with the wine).

every little

2010-03-25T10:57:00.002Z

Just had an e-mail from law college reminding us that Tesco are running a mock assessment centre next month. They have received very few applications so we're being urged to apply.

The reason no-one has applied is that this is a really, really stupid idea. I'm meant to waste my time filling out a moronic form for a MOCK interview? I'm supposed to compete for a PRETEND JOB? As if making applications for real training contracts wasn't time-consuming and tiring enough.

Morons.

yeah

2010-03-18T08:59:00.002Z

Sorry about the absence. etc. I had a week off last week and spent most of it in the country, where the internet connection is erratic at best.

I'm not feeling quite with it at the moment though typically I cannot work out why.

Saw Avatar last night, which was a waste of three hours. EQ and I started sniggering uncontrollably in the last third. Terrible story, terrible script. Pretty multicoloured things, though; just had a text from AM I dreamt I was in a world of glowsticks last night.

let it go

2010-03-09T23:33:00.004Z

This Too Shall Pass:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qybUFnY7Y8w&feature=channel

reminds me of something my Dad always says nothing really matters. and, in the end, nothing matters at all.

back

2010-03-08T09:29:00.002Z

Things I ate:

2x chocolate almond croissants
1x other pastry with chocolate on it
1x Angelina's hot chocolate
1x Angelina's Mont Blanc
2x cheese omelettes
1x onion soup
1/2 small President camembert
2x bottles of champagne
1x brownie
chicken in rocket sauce with courgette and bechamel gratin
gorgeous bottle of Fleurie

and it was good.

paris

2010-03-04T08:14:00.004Z

We are going, today! After my last exam(s)! It is good.

I forgot to post yesterday. I was packing. I have too many clothes bundled into my little suitcase. Boyfriend rang this morning while I was still in bed and I confessed to this. He fully supported the decision to take too much stuff because "it's nice to have choices" and this is why he is brilliant; even though it is clearly deranged to take eight dresses and two pairs of shoes and two jumpers and a skirt and and and etc for three days away he just says what he knows he should and everyone is happy.

Definitely not enough punctuation in that last sentence.

To revision! And making myself look chic and so on.

bed

2010-03-02T20:02:00.002Z

Three and a half hour exams are quite a killer. Too many numbers and a drafting question that didn't require you to draft anything. Perhaps didn't go as well as it might.

It's just gone eight but I'm going to take my make up off and go to bed. Really looking forward to a gym session tomorrow.

pretty

2010-03-01T20:53:00.004Z

http://www.myspace.com/thegoodnatured: lovely Ladytron-esque voice (though a bit younger and softer) and gorgeous sparkly electronic backing.
Overtones of Charlotte Gainsbourg and Bat for Lashes as well.

Yay for music. How is she not signed?

bloody trains

2010-02-28T19:17:00.003Z

Stuck in Cambridge due to trains being rubbish. Am actually just being rather dramatic but don't particularly want to go to Stansted airport on a bus in order to get back into London.

Have just made a Lego train, though not without some difficulty. Boyfriend, increduously: 'Rachel, it's for ages three and up.'

Had forgotten that Lego hurts your hands when you try and pull it apart.

radio

2010-02-27T14:35:00.002Z

Jo Whiley (sp?) isn't any better or more relevant on her weekend show. Why do they let her persist? Surely she's Radio 2 material by now?

Didn't sleep well but off to Cambridge soon to see friends and forget about impending business law exam.

still

2010-02-26T21:49:00.001Z

Another rejection from another job today.

Most times I'm fine with this I really am just not, today.

It's exam time and I've got a cold and I'm unhappy and FUCK.

Each rejection makes you stronger, blah.

forecast

2010-02-25T20:49:00.002Z

One of my recent history websites on Firefox is the BBC weather page. I am praying for good weather in Paris one week today; one week today I will be on the Eurostar with my boyfriend, hopefully slightly fuzzy from wine and the elation of exams being DONE.

In lawyerly news:
Some stuff got decided about assisted suicide today and now it's all supposed to make sense and so on but I'm not sure making motive the "key" helps in any way. I will write more about this but I'm really drinking too much wine in the evenings lately and it doesn't really help the clarity of writing.

listen

2010-02-24T18:51:00.003Z

I like the Radio Four Saturday play. I like a lot of Radio Four actually. Not the news (prefer to read it) or the drivelly comment shows or the programmes about wildlife, but the comedy and drama are pretty diverting. And The Archers, of course.*

Anyway. The last Saturday play was about Craig Murray. I didn't know who he was until I listened to the play, if I'm honest. He was a British ambassador to Uzbekistan before we invaded Iraq, where he came across some terrible abuses of human rights. He took it upon himself to help people. In the process he exposed the British government's complicity (the spell check thinks that's a word but I'm not sure) in the gathering of intelligence by torturing people. There's a lawyer in the play who actually defends this behaviour.

Now, it may be legally possible for the government to pass over their involvement. But the lawyer who allows that; how can he sleep? The law is cruel and clever, and those in a position of power can always manipulate it to avoid its devastation. But I could never do that. To support such awful illegality of anyone, let alone the group charged with leading this country, by telling them that it's okay, do what you want because the law lets you avoid morality; I couldn't do that.

This is incoherent, I realise, and I am going to attempt to work it up into something more. If nothing else it's helping me find a way to the kind of lawyer I want to be.

Saturday play here.

*I think that's a countryside thing. My Dad has always listened to it. It's more a reminder of home than anything.

so

2010-02-23T08:23:00.002Z

I was going to write when I got in last night, but that wasn't til quite late and I'd had three glasses of wine and then my phone rang... etc.

Excuses. I also had an exam yesterday, which wasn't the best. I'm hard on myself.

I know I'm hard on others, too. I inherit this from my Dad, an expectation of sacrifice to get where you say you want to go. If you aren't willing to make the sacrifice, you don't want it enough.

To the gym! To snap out of it.

arrest

2010-02-21T17:15:00.004Z

One abortive attempt (he forgot something) and a successful walk to the tube stop later, I wander home alone to read through my notes for tomorrow's exam.

The men who had crowded the path at the traffic lights, drinking beer, are now being arrested. One of the police cars involved is missing a side mirror; an officer holds it and watches the men in handcuffs, heads ducked into the car.

Sure there's a good short story in there somewhere.

PS: forgot to post Friday and Saturday. Sorry.

further stupidity

2010-02-18T17:41:00.002Z

Only realised last weekend that what I'd always thought was just a weird potted plant on a pound coin is, in fact, a leek.

fishy

2010-02-17T09:10:00.002Z

Useless things people said while playing Articulate last night:

"It's not a prawn."
[it was a shrimp].
...
"When something is put there to guide you to the incorrect answer, it's a red... come on, it's a type of fish..."
"Mullet! Red mullet"
...
"I don't know who this book is by... um, okay, first name of the title is the name of a guy I dated, we were talking about him earlier..."
"David."
"And the second name is... oh, you know, its famous..."
[when timer has run out] "Rachel, David Copperfield is by Dickens." (Victorian literature is something I tell people I enjoy in order to be precocious).

Okay, most of these useless things were things said by me. Grumble.

burn

2010-02-15T22:05:00.002Z

Rescuing a roasting chicken from the oven today I burned my arm on the wire shelf. Annoyingly its the slender part of my wrist, the natural resting place of my watch. Perhaps it will train my to wear it on the correct side (its always on the right).

Want to sleep but not sure I'll find it so easy, tonight. Overactive imagination (burned in more ways than this).

v day #2

2010-02-14T19:49:00.003Z

(last year here)

Today we went to the cinema in Cambridge and watched Breakfast at Tiffany's, which I've never seen but I did read, once; I'd forgotten it was Capote, it is too long ago. It was beautiful and because I woke feeling sad it was an antidote I needed, a salve to the mean reds only Holly Golightly can provide.

The day before he brings me cake and a flower and a pretty mug, and we cook and talk and finally I make a decision about what I'll do for Lent. I will write, every day, nothing much perhaps but I'll publish everything I type. I give him more words this year, my own, this time.

The train home is crowded and I spend the journey not quite sure of consciousness, hoping you realise how important words are, to me.

history

2010-02-07T22:30:00.003Z

I always delete my browser history (Firefox calls it Private Data, which I like) before my boyfriend comes for the weekend. At this stage in our relationship I'm really not sure why; he knows I read about food and fashion and celebrities. He knows where I watch porn. He knows this blog exists, though I don't think he reads it. He clears his own history before I visit, too.

He left today after a sunny weekend. The browser history I've got now reads as a map of the past few days, full of chocolate and brunch and the inevitable facebook stalk; a checking of e-mail and links to flights for August. A pleasing version of those research trails lawyers are so annoyingly fond of.

***

On another note - I know what's wrong with me, now. I had a wisdom tooth extracted at an emergency dentist appointment on Wednesday. I am much better already.

everyone says

2010-02-02T22:26:00.004Z

Yoga was packed yesterday. Savasana isn't terribly relaxing when you're trying to avoid sticking your toe in your neighbour's ear.

In the summer following my first year of university I caught a horrible cough. I couldn't shift it and eventually it took me over. My energy levels plummeted and I quit my waitressing job. Though I went to the doctor a few times I refused to do anything much about it. Needles in the artery at the elbow raise panic in me.

I got better.

But I still get that feeling of fatigue, sometimes. It's not a physical tiredness. It isn't depression, either. It's a disconnect from the world, a feeling of being underwater with sounds and faces blurred by the rush of liquid. Nothing seems quite solid.

I've felt like that more frequently, lately. I get dizzy when walking, a head rush whenever I stand. I struggled horribly in yoga yesterday, fighting dehydration (it is certainly a cause) and an overwhelming sense of collapse.

Everyone says its anaemia, and they're probably right. I am good at ignoring my health. I never drink enough water and I don't eat much protein, let alone red meat. I do eat, though, I promise. My bruises take an age to heal; my scars rarely do. I have an injury from 10 October that still hasn't disappeared from my shin. But that's nothing unusual.

I'm not unhappy; far from it, despite the tedium of college (and the fact I'm listening to Eels). I'm just so very tired. Maybe it's boredom? I'm trying my best to alleviate that.

I guess I may have to get over the blood test thing.

hope

2010-02-01T17:47:00.003Z

Listening to two girls chat beside me in the awful dungeon of a cafe in college, talking about how they don't have time to do any job applications. Yet, bizarrely, neither of them have actually done the preparation for today's classes; what keeps them so busy, I wonder?

This course is not hard work. Watch a few hours of online lectures a week, read up on anything you're hazy about and make a stab at a basic prep task. Turn up to all your classes and you're in college for about ten hours a week.

If you can't cope with this, how on earth will you be a lawyer? Will you sulk when you're not allowed to go at half past five on the dot? Will you ignore the tasks your supervisor sets you in favour of the pub and then moan about what a bitch she is, how busy you are, doesn't she understand?

I know, I know, I'm arrogant. I'm struck equally by reassurance and fear; these girls aren't really competition in the job market, but then again I've met people just like them who are qualified lawyers.

Spanish class soon.

move

2010-01-21T12:53:00.002Z

We're moving house tomorrow. My room is nearly empty and you can see the patches of mould near the windows. Lucky buyer.

We're not going far. The new house is a good deal and has a back garden; luxury, in London.

The only thing I'm really sad to abandon is my oversized bed. My boyfriend is much taller than me and sleeps in a star shape, limbs seeming to multiply in the night.

No internet from tomorrow until Tuesday at least. Not that I was likely to post anyway, as you well know.

espanol

2010-01-18T21:53:00.002Z

The girl to my left is called Svetlana. She's wearing a tartan skirt, and a different tartan v-neck sleeveless pullover. The girl on my right is Lydia, and is wearing earrings that have 'Oui' written on them. No, that may be a lie; I can only see one. She is also wearing knee socks and I like both of these girls immediately.

We play ice-breaker games that they always make you play in semi-formal situations, only we play them in Spanish. The teacher makes us say a word we know already. The only one I can think of is manteca, so I say it, and she looks amused. It means lard.

Telling a lawyer friend about the classes earlier in the day he is confused by why I'm taking them. You must have a thirst for knowledge, man in his perfect East London accent. When Svetlana asks the same question later I answer honestly something to do in the evenings and she laughs and agrees. She also makes reference to the bars around the college and I'm pretty sure I'm going to make some friends, here.

tired

2010-01-14T19:28:00.002Z

I've not been to bed before 1am for the past week. Not sure why, really.

Woke up this morning to some news that tweaked that horrible emotional pulley that develops in your throat when you haven't slept enough. Attach any weight and the tears flood out.

Nothing more to say. Just tired and missing certain people so very much.

definitely january

2010-01-13T14:39:00.002Z

So I've resolved to get more involved. My brain feels like its dying; I do next to no work for this course and my results are very good. That's not intended as a boast, more an indication of just how basic the tasks are.

Spanish classes start on Monday night. I've joined a book group that meets every month and found a couple of free events to attend in the coming weeks. I'm just starting to like London.

I am also going to attempt to eliminate artificial sweeteners from my diet, though probably not until Lent rolls around. That sounds horribly organic and smug. It means giving up Diet Coke and sugar-free squash. I've rather lost my taste for the former.

Related: the gym is busy, even in the dead mid morning hours. Uncomfortable people in clothes meant for gardening stare warily at the machines. Just reminds me of me, aged sixteen. I've been asked two questions about the gym while mostly naked in the changing room this week. Demonstrating how a locker works without a bra on must fit into some fetish category, somewhere.

nye

2010-01-02T19:03:00.003Z

We're all pretending to be grown up and having a dinner party. As EQ points out, student food (shepherds pie and peas) slopped onto plates is only a dinner party by virtue of the fact that we're all in black tie. I've even got my hair up, braids pinned at the nape of my neck.

He looks so good, stubble and a dinner jacket. After Big Ben chimes we're on the sofa, talking. We talk more when we get home, in bed, my head on his shoulder. I am not good at this, this talking, but fuelled by cheap fizz I do my best.

He looks impossibly better the next morning, dress shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows and pyjama bottoms. We make breakfast for welcome guests and spend the day asleep.

Happy New Year. Thank you for reading.

want these

2009-12-28T17:02:00.002Z

THESE

(please).

Have been sales shopping today but bought nothing. Not sure who thinks there's a recession in the UK as the city centre was manic. Now pretend I've written something about consumerism never being satisified here, with a wry smile about how lost humanity is. Don't pretend you didn't shudder at the repetitive smug vitriol therein.

All that to say - I want those boots.

landing

2009-12-18T22:20:00.004Z

"You're the worst kind of high maintenance. You think you're low maintenance but you're not." EA has told me this more times than I care to remember. It's whip-smart true, a rising welt of character assassination.

I repeat this to my boyfriend (perhaps we should name him) as I follow him up the stairs in a book shop, searching for a long-ordered vegetarian cookbook. I fall over my own feet and a step and as he rolls his eyes I stumble upright and regret the truth of the statement.

He replies You're not high maintenance.
"She meant emotionally."
...Well, yes.

But, I would be fascinated to meet the person who is unguarded from the first instant, always. Who doesn't measure themselves out, dose by dose, seemingly relaxed but judging every movement minute message.

And now we are here, and giving of yourself is comfortable, in a manner.
And it is good, despite the gift.

it's definitely nearly the end of term

2009-12-09T12:52:00.005Z

Exchange between two of my favourite lawyer friends on facebook:

Italian Friend: better than fucking allotment and transfer of fucking shares! the whole class was hangovered from a late night at [name of nasty student club] and we got told off by head of department...yes!
...
excuse my French.
CW: excuse your English. Hangovered?!?
IF: sorry mate. It's street English, yo!
...
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Hangovered
CW: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=bollocks
Me: :D

procrastinating

2009-11-24T19:25:00.002Z

All that preening about exercising and eating right and I've just scoffed half a big bag of Malteasers.

Oh my God I don't want to do my coursework.

stretching

2009-11-22T10:59:00.005Z

Just read in a Sunday paper magazine (anonymous because its shameful I was reading it):
"Count your stretch marks and measure them."

Er, no. Why would you do that? What a bizarre thing to encourage women to do. The author goes on to advise that if the marks multiply you should use some pricey cream.

I find it quite frightening, this focus on imperfections. I am vain, and that will never change, but I'm certainly not going to breed despair by documenting my flaws. If I had to choose a least favourite body part, it would be my stomach, every time, but I'm not prepared to do anything more than I already do to change it. Besides, it doesn't bother anybody BUT ME, and that's only marginal.

I've done my time with disordered eating and warped body image, and I've come out the other side in relatively good mental shape. I love how I look and I work to maintain that, but its the way I feel that makes it worth it. It feels wonderful to be fit and eat well.

There are so many positives about my body. Why would I let the negative rule?

chill

2009-11-19T11:59:00.003Z

There's a bit in the second Bridget Jones book (er, or the movie) where she's discussing how horrible Mark Darcy is. She's in the Thai jail with all those women singing Madonna and they tell her about boyfriends who beat them. And then she feels silly.

I feel silly.

The course I have to do this year I am finding more interesting than last year's. It is just that there is not enough of it to fill my working week. Three hours of college four days a week is hardly full time, and this is the "busy" part of the year. From February I only have to be in three days a week. The homework they give us is mostly asinine (apart from this thing about shares that I haven't got a fucking clue about) and besides, who wants to be doing homework when you're 23?

I'm bored out of my mind. I'm getting all control freak-y about things like washing and going to the gym and keeping my room tidy. This isn't good for me, and it isn't good for my relationship. Here it manifests in jealousy that my boyfriend having a good time, and irritation that my long evenings of nothing can't be filled with him.

One of the things I love most about him is that he's brilliant at keeping in touch. There is no reason at all to be needy. Fortunately I think I've got a grip on myself in time.

But I still feel silly.

things I like about this horrible city

2009-11-17T20:48:00.005Z

My gym. I like it a lot. I don't want to move away from it next year.
My yoga teacher.
Buses.
Old friends only minutes away.
Ravenscourt Park.
Ravensourt Park tube station.
Long walks along the South Bank.
Borough Market.
The City at weekends, empty of people and full of closed cafes.
Late at the Tate.
The BM.
The reassuring noise of the aeroplanes.
Paddington station.
The beautiful brick Pavilion on the green, sadly disused.
Gloucester Road tube station, with all the moody lighting and artwork.
Whole Foods.
Being able to wear anything at all because you'll never be the weirdest person on the street.
Waterstones on Gower Street.
Hyde Park/St James Park/most other central parks.
Breakfast out.
Chiswick.
Westfield (shhhh).

I hope you're proud, boyfriend.

I will never love London

2009-11-08T14:28:00.007Z

I went to a fireworks party on Thursday in Finsbury. That was the good part, the wine and the sparklers and the fifteen girls screaming in unison as the boys lit roman candles under a big tree.
Then I stood at a bus stop for forty minutes, watching four buses sail past, the smell of dope from the man smoking a spliff ten feet from me turning my stomach, a memory of a bad night two years ago.

I made a telephone call and bitched about it.
"If bloody Boris had a daughter [just wikipedia'd that and, er, he has two] do you think he'd be okay with her standing on her own in North London for nearly an hour?"
Hadn't heard about him chasing off the Oiks in Camden at that point.

Eventually a friend turned up and we got lost together while he berated me about wandering around on my own at night.

I am rubbish at living in London. There is so much to do but I have no money to do it. When I do have money to do it, I will no longer have any time, apparently.

I have a horrible cold and this is a horrible city.

stuff on my desk

2009-11-04T11:04:00.005Z

photo of my sister aged 15
blank valentine's card
fitness first timetable
Guardian article about boyfriend
incomprehensible science paper written by above
an "Alternative Personal Statement" composed by friends when aged 17
birthday card from Economics teacher
diary that looks scarily like Gideon Bible
two lamps that don't work
photo of EA on D of E giving the camera the finger
photo of AL in graduation gown
list of "Things What Are Large" produced at 21st birthday party
postcard with bird labelled "Mystic Tit"
calendar with mock exams in orange highlighter
pile of Civil Litigation work I am going to do now

freedom

2009-10-23T10:11:00.003+01:00

As my friend PC puts his feelings about the BNP's appearance on Question Time last night: 'They're wankers. We knew that.' He thinks we should all go and do something other than twitter about it.

He's right, but a little late. Why did anyone even watch Nick Griffin last night? If you know he's a fascist, and you don't agree with it, why even give his opinions the time of day? I'm all for free speech but you're just as free to choose what you listen to.

The best thing anyone can possibly do now is use their vote against the BNP. Vote Lib Dem, if you must (sorry, boyfriend). Watching Nick Griffin defend racism is hardly anything to feel smug and informed about.

nobody at the gym is cool

2009-10-07T13:36:00.004+01:00

Oh my God, man on the cross trainer flapping his arms. Are you trying to fly? It can't be that awful.

Irrational creeping hatred for Paolo from yoga class as he gets on the treadmill in his stupid too-short tracksuit bottoms.

I look like a total dick when I run.

Thankfully, so does everybody else

under the

2009-10-06T23:04:00.005+01:00

I've bought the new Basement Jaxx album. It's on, now. I can't think of another band whose new releases I've always rushed to buy.

Miss McG influenced my musical expansion, third year university finally tumbling into albums I must have loved subconsciously before. I saw her on Sunday, hesistant and pretty (vintage says MM) in the Cambridge sunshine.

Today I sat in a conveyancing seminar and put together fragments of what she'd said, stitching her words with thoughts of my own and missing that year with an empty stomach ache.

Remembering PC saying you just don't care what people think. Until he said it I had no idea it was true. Now, it doesn't seem so accurate. I'm not sure what changed.

I miss parts of myself.

oh

2009-09-26T11:43:00.003+01:00

My. Even THM has started posting again.

I have written nothing this summer. I left my notebook at home when we went to Spain. Granada and the Alhambra are lost to memory.

Yesterday; Hyde Park, 99 Flake, the Memorial Fountain. The water was clear cold. Later we cook a meal we ate on holiday, and then you watch the terrible programme I love and spin me around the half landing in happy mockery of my delight.

I can't get enough of you, my chin on your sharp collarbone.

I have written nothing because all I want to write is you. And who wants to read that but me?

grr

2009-06-22T21:37:00.002+01:00

So, for reasons unknown, I've been behaving like a total bitch recently. I thought it was exam stress, but, no, exams are done now. Overtired? Certainly, but that doesn't account for being a twat last night. Or on Friday, over a sodding dress. What the hell.

Just resolving to get on with it and stop being ridiculous. I think it's the change thing, sad all over again at a departure that isn't my own. (But it is, in a way, losing all connection to the city I love better than any other).

...

Working a law firm in Bristol for the week. Loved the first day, and I hadn't expected to. I was awake until gone five am worrying about it. See, ridiculous.

and another

2009-05-17T17:40:00.002+01:00

I went out last night, and danced in a club with a sticky floor and a weird DJ. It was spontaneous and funny and oh my, I really haven't heard a set list like that since a long gone family wedding.

We were celebrating a friend's birthday. A year ago I wrote about her twenty first, and reading that post now I remember the fizz of happiness I felt that weekend. I didn't think things could get any better, and I was right, in a way. The last weeks in Bristol were wonderful, but they were also heartbreaking.

And so, it is now two years since my fall. This year has been interesting. The oddest thing is that I haven't left the country since August. I am on the verge of booking flights for a summer holiday, and I cannot wait to feel the heat of Spain. Law has been, er, a melodramatic transition. I have met someone pretty incredible.

It has been a good year.

possibly submitted it in a drunken stupor

2009-05-13T15:13:00.002+01:00

Just got an e-mail from a law firm thanking me for my application, and letting me know they'd be contacting me soon with a decision.

I do not remember submitting this application.

I wonder what was on it.

maverick

2009-05-10T18:22:00.003+01:00

http://beatonna.livejournal.com/74943.html

Pimms and an early night to doze in front of Maverick and Goose. He nudges me awake during 'select homoerotic scenes' (his words, not mine).

The movie finishes and he turns the laptop off. I look up from the bed and he is wearing aviators. I laugh until my stomach aches and he kisses me to shut me up.

sharp

2009-05-07T21:33:00.003+01:00

A favourite blogger has been describing her break up. Her experience wrenches horrible familiarity in me.

I am too scared to write about him, despite eighteen months distance.

I am exhausted today. I have been short with my flatmates all week. I cannot concentrate.

I wrote more than this, originally. I cannot post it. Perhaps this will be catharsis enough.

things I wish I'd said to the man harrassing me as I browsed in Ann Summers

2009-04-30T17:48:00.002+01:00

Man "Natural is better." [bonus: guess what I was looking at].

What I Didn't Say:
"Not with you."
"I'm not sure your wife would agree."
"Liar."
"My girlfriend and I don't think so."

Feel free to contribute.

PS: apologies for surfeit of sex posts.

calling

2009-04-27T20:21:00.002+01:00

I went to buy lined paper today, for revision season is upon us.

As I left the shop, a man came up to me; tall, black, hot.
He wanted to tell me I was the prettiest girl he'd seen in two weeks.

Precision aside (bizarre), I smile and say thank you, because, well, he isn't a weird Hispanic bloke.
"I'm moving to America tomorrow" he continues; "I work in the adult film industry."
...
I got propositioned for a porn job in WH Smiths.

christos anesti

2009-04-11T17:48:00.002+01:00

He's not, actually. He won't rise for another week if you're following the Greek calendar. It's Lazarus Saturday today.

I have only spent one Easter in Cyprus, but it remains a strong memory. I was ten or so. Bright, white heat, stone beaches and rabbit filled cages in the back yard. My parents worried over the clothes we wore to the Easter procession, and church. I wore shorts, in the end; clearly I must have been young enough for it not to matter.

We kissed the plastic covering the icons and shuffled around the cool floors. Years later I'd lean down to kiss the brass plaque on an Uncle's coffin in London and the sting of incense, the brewing quiet rumble of emotion would make my mind flicker back to the coloured gilt of the Cyprus church. In the car I'd listen to T-Rex and think about my relatives crossing themselves.

Happy Easter.
Christos anesti; alithos anesti. (Soon).

fool

2009-04-01T20:39:00.002+01:00

Would be quite the joke to actually post, don't you think?

Two days until college finishes. I have pages of notes from tube journeys spent staring.

Am fine. More soon.

jibe-oh

2009-03-15T21:21:00.003Z

Got a non-pfo (why not just say acceptance? who knows; I'm tired) the day after. Happiness ensued.

This weekend was the warmest so far this year. I squeeze my child-bearing hips (cheers, ma) through the window and we sit on the stone balcony. Bickering about schooling and commenting on the girls walking past the afternoon slips away and it seems seconds since I arrived.

I return to London with renewed enthusiasm and a shadowed shape of a plan.

pfo

2009-03-11T17:57:00.001Z

...
I don't even want to be a lawyer.

Not surprised, but rather fed up.

oh my god

2009-03-04T15:52:00.002Z

WHY

Mom jeans? Really? Topshop, these are not a "new" shape. Go away. GO AWAY.

allusions

2009-03-02T09:50:00.005Z

Despite the fact I do not currently own a camera, I want to add 'take more photographs' to my resolutions for this year. A few years ago (where has that gone) I remember saying the same words to my ex, leafy streets in Bristol, sunlit.

Sat beside the pond in Hyde Park this weekend we watch the swans: I would not get that close says my West Country past as a tourist creeps up. Feathered neck will break yours.

(more) mock exams next week but again I keep typing cryptic nonsense.

Restless; shortly to the gym to run it out.

hello, boys

2009-02-17T16:47:00.000Z

Do some work.

v day

2009-02-16T22:09:00.004Z

you are very hard to read
there is a frown on my lower lip (in my mind) am I?
pensive... is the same as content. is the same as sad.

no frown then ...I practice ...
... I have been called an emotional retard...
laugh you are not
I am just bad at talking...
... I am trying

ignoring my tightening chest, head on his elbow as he reads the poem I had been reluctant to reveal

I am glad I gave you those words
(I wonder if you know there are more here for you)

sheep

2009-02-11T09:07:00.000Z

SHD tagged me to do this on fb. I am not sure whether it is more or less narcissistic to post it here instead.

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. I just dug out some very rusty html skills to write that SHD link above, as Blogger's hyperlink thing appears to be unwell. I am quite pleased I got it right first time.
2. Writing is my passion. What a fucking stupid statement; probably the truest thing I've ever posted.
3. Dried apricots are THE FOOD OF THE DEVIL.
4. I don't tell anyone anything, though I pretend to. I am not particularly proud of this.
5. I worry about how I compare intellectually, not physically.
6. I am fantastically vain, however.
7. I have made every major decision in my life (degree course, University city, postgrad study, etc) at the last possible minute.
8. Conversely, I stress about everyday situations far too much.
9. I know the calorie content of pretty much everything.
10. I loathe running. I do it anyway.
11. I wish I looked nice in cream. The colour, not the foodstuff.
12. I have a disproportionate number of good, gay, male friends.
13. I have two birthmarks; one on my right thigh, one behind my left ear. The second one isn't particularly attractive.
14. The most acute pain I have experienced was breaking a rib. The memory of it, and the sound it made, makes me cringe.
15. This has taken me three days so far, and I am only at 15. I overthink.
16. In moments of hating my degree, I always wished I'd read English.
17. I have been skydiving, but I'd never bungy (sp?) jump.
18. I get Diet Coke cravings, especially when hungover.
19. My hangovers are monstrous, and last all day.
20. Seriously, I'm out of pointless rubbish to tell you. There are five more to do. Feel free.

total non-post

2009-02-03T16:02:00.006Z

Was halfway through writing a post about my favourite tramp but it got a bit too twee; woeful charity. I saw a man stop to hold a conversation with the back bumper of a car today, prompting the bout of condescension.

Am pretty happy and balanced at the moment. This has been the best start to a new year that I can remember; there are recent photographs of me where my smile has eaten my top lip. They also indicate that I badly need a haircut.

Oh dear. What disconnected, pointless paragraphs. It was that, or tell you about how indescribably hot I found watching my boyfriend do something (I have fuck all idea what but it involved looking purposeful and clever) in the lab last Friday. I've dabbled in some weird fetishes but never thought science would be one.

snow day

2009-02-02T10:50:00.005Z

College is cancelled. I have a reasonable excuse not to leave the house today; we do, though, to play in the snow. The strange man next door stands beside his recycling bag full of Kronenburg cans and throws snowballs at us. One slides down my neck.

Snowfall. Remembering the late sweet daze of Friday night, I could say so much, did I dream it? All of it?

Confident I reached to you.
(I did not dream it).

On the train, I write the line from the ee cummings poem that makes me cry.

Snowfall; no sound. Bleak, content weather.

warning: contains words

2009-01-18T19:16:00.004Z

Just seen an advert for the new Will Smith movie. The trailer makes it clear that it contains Scenes of Strong Emotion. Or something. I had no idea what the film was about, but Wikipedia helped with that and my, does it sound like a depressing little jaunt.

So. When you know the movie is about the deaths of seven people and the title character's subsequent self-flagellation, do you really need the warning?

On another note of bemused complaint, what is Channel Four trying to do with this Christianity series? This week's episode, presented by Michael Portillo, doesn't really make any sense. He's meant to be talking about Rome but they can't really decide whether they want to do the ancient or the modern.

Other news: I've been carrying my notebook and writing, a lot. Just need to translate that into real posts. The space between my tits hurts because I wore an ill-fitting bra for too long yesterday. Really quite tired. Can you tell?

working on it

2009-01-08T21:10:00.002Z

Had a brief, I love London moment today. Unexpectedly, it was on the bus. Transport in the city usually makes me snarl.

Asked for trouble by sitting next to an Italian in tight white jeans. Instead, I became surrounded by more Italians, a couple of Russians; a Thai girl, someone speaking French. Telephone calls. I was almost somewhere else.

Itchy feet.

ta

2009-01-06T16:41:00.008Z

Dear Auntie Jean/Granny/Weird Uncle,

Thank you very much for my [usually money]. I have already hit the sales [because I had to escape the crushing weight of all the food and old people in the house] and have treated myself to a new sweater [actually from the Maternity section of Topshop, which caused slight consternation at home]. I will have to visit the shops again when the crowds have disappeared to see what else I can find! [as I am actually going to blow all the cash on a corset].

We had a quiet Christmas with family [if "quiet" entails Boxing Day Massacre of squirrels by Grandad, with shotgun] and I spent New Year at home with friends from University, which was great fun. [And it was so]. Mum and Dad were a big help on the night with all the food and preparation, and we were all pretty tired the next day! [For me, principally because I was up until the sun rose fucking my boyfriend].

I am looking forward to getting back to London now [LIES] though not so much to my exams. [couldn't give a fuck. I mean, I'm blogging about thank you letters instead of revising]. Hopefully they will be better than I expect! [they won't be].

Thank you again [for your contribution to my journey through the shops of Soho].

With love [especially from my boyfriend, who is delighted I'm spending a ridiculous amount of money on something that is essentially for his enjoyment],

xx

to do

2009-01-02T22:57:00.003Z

Resolutions:

1. Start carrying notebook again/write more/just start the bloody book, etc.
2. Get job.
3. Attempt to boost 'love' part of love/hate relationship with stupid London.
4. Stop being useless about seeing friends who live/work within few miles of self.
5. Stop relying on Bridget Jones-esque entries to disable feeling of guilt about not writing.

Merry 2009.

beginnings

2008-12-15T19:42:00.003Z

I love this place. I must say it out loud as he looks down at me and replies "I can tell."

Dim, rainy sunshine dripping onto the latticed roof. We walk halfway around the Reading Room, heading for the Parthenon galleries. Centaurs, ephebes, an explanation of why a small penis means you are a good Greek boy. The Rosetta stone, a favourite Exekias pot, the early Christian paintings I spent three months studying. The crowds are thinning as we leave to eat Thai. I get too drunk and rant about socialism all the way home.

The next day, cold cold wind on the Thames, hats and gloves and a pretend German Christmas market, wooden sheds and The Pogues on a loudspeaker. Coffee and cake by the steps of St Pauls. Sometimes, he says, I love London.

Sometimes, I do, too.

pick'n'mix

2008-12-11T21:35:00.004Z

Few things I'm loving at the moment:

Things on repeat on my ipod;
Homecoming - The Teenagers; sample lyric: 'I fucked my American cunt/I loved my English romance'. Class.
Paris - Friendly Fires. Hot Chip-esque pre-party music.
Quicksand - La Roux. Electro-pop. I think she's singing about a girl. Do you?
Girls' Night Out - The Knife. Listening to this, I had a sudden realisation that the singer also appears on a Royksopp song that I adore.

A really, really well written piece on a favourite site:
I wrote this in the past

Shoes I want, violently. The Miu Miu store in the new shopping centre marks the end of my retail pilgrimage every time.

Real post at some point. Good weekend coming up. Must start making notes again.

london love

2008-12-03T14:47:00.003Z

"Hey, baby."
I roll my eyes and walk past him.
"You think you're too good for me, ah? You think you're too hot for me!"
The man; short, shorter than me in my heels, Hispanic, slick hair.

He turns to his friend. "She thinks she's too hot for me!"
I walk through the barrier.
"You're nada! Nada!" He yells, at my back.

I think briefly on what I will do if they appear on the platform. My train arrives, I abandon my grimace of distaste and start to snigger into the high collar of my coat.

pillow talk

2008-11-24T16:55:00.007Z

On the phone, late Sunday evening, dozing as we compare weekends and make plans, conversation inevitably draws back to how cold it is. Because we are British. And incredibly interesting.
I am always cold. I list what I am wearing; Pyjama bottoms, two tshirts, my enormous (and unwashed) university hoodie, and socks. I even have the hood up.

It dawns on me, when we hang up, that should Law fail as a career, I'd be a great phone sex worker. You know, for that niche sector that likes girls in oversized grubby layers. Filth!

as predicted

2008-11-19T16:47:00.003Z

I feel better today. Not more enthusiastic, but certainly more accepting.

And! Worse news! The greatest tragedy of our times! John Sargeant has bowed out of Strictly.
Proof the grass is never greener...?

where I am

2008-11-18T22:18:00.003Z

I feel soulless. Not in the indulgent way I occasionally ignore any moral compass I may possess, but spineless, weightless. A grey uneasy rest.

I do not love the law. I will never love the law. I cannot do this for the rest of my life.
I do not think I can do this at all.

A phone call; I say what has been building in my throat for days I despise that I let myself do this.

I cannot bear the drudgery. Discussion of statute is not debate, application of rules and attempting to sidestep difficult tax issues is not intellectual or exciting or anything but work any person willing to push solidly through these pages of bullet points could do.

Fuck, let's hope I'm as fickle as usual and change my mind by morning.