Fiona 的个人资料Wishful thinking...照片日志列表更多  |  工具 帮助 |
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6月29日 False startsWell, hello again. Depressingly, I've spent a good portion of the week thinking of chatty-yet-nonchalant first lines/outlines for my first blog back, and as usual I have none prepared for today, when I actually have internet access. Therefore I shall collate the former for your amusement as you will. Tuesday: Well, we spent a lovely day wandering around Stratford, M and myself, it being his birthday, and thus much food was consumed, and some of those lovely candy letters I've not seen since Center Parcs Longleat stopped selling them, also a gorgeous bottle of vodka with blood orange was purchased (emphasis rather pretentiously on the second syllable, most likely), so I would probably have filled you in on this. In other news, the Most Tenuous Link to Shakespeare is awarded to the Thespian Curry House by the RSC building, the latter of which is half-demolished at the moment and having been replaced by a rather exciting crane and a lot of dust and clanking noises. What an adventure. Wednesday: I'd like to say that this entry would mostly have comprised a rather amusing story about baby wipes and Germany, however I fear this may embarrass more people than I care to imagine, and anyway, being at an university on results day means that you know that's a lie, I'd just have gone on about my own results. (August 14th in case you're wondering.) Friday: would have been a rant about fast food outlets (AHEM.) and the joy of Ikea bags. They really are. Also I am ever-so-slightly put out that a present came through for my birthday from someone whose birthday it was a few months back and for whom I spent two hours in Waterstones picking out books I thought they'd like. Seriously. One of them was a Wendy Cope anthology. It pains me to give these things away. There are only so many circumstances in which novelty is amusing. Saturday: depends on the time of day. If when I'd just got home from work, a description of quite why I dislike S and W so much (you can have that soon, anyway, I'm working tomorrow and the day after -- kill me now); if later in the evening, ohbloodyHELL, there are situations when other people's kids are welcome to be as loud as they like in my vicinity, and there are occasions when this is not the case. While Doctor Who is (possibly) regenerating in front of my very eyes on a large television screen and (yes, you were right, M) DAVROS IS BACK!!... is not the time to be asking awkward questions such as a) what's that; b) what happens next and c) are you gay? I kid you not. I told them of course I was, and they can check with my boyfriend if desperate. Also yes, the fart was me of course it was, yes of course I smell, my sister's name does indeed rhyme with willy, and for God's sake would you SHUT UP NOW? Anyway. As you can tell, none of these outlines is applicable any more. Cake and Miss Marple. That's basically my day. </essay> 6月22日 A quick apology in advance I'm sodding off up north (or, well, comparatively so) for a bit tomorrow. Until Friday. Access to internet may be limited, or frankly I'll be busy with other things, so if you don't hear from me... well, it's all alright. Let me know what you're up to and you're likely to get the full-length update upon my return, probably on Saturday night because I'll be babysitting for someone with unsecured wireless. Oh yes. Silly buggers, but they've got Sky, so I'm not complaining. Plan is to spend the whole evening watching QI and playing Wii Golf. Wild. It's been a good week, once again I fear I may have consumed more units alcohol in the last two days than I've had hours sleep, but that's partly as a result of a variety of different bedsprings sticking in the small of my back. I hope the formatting on this hasn't sodded up. Just moved to Firefox and I'm skeptical as it is. Too late at night, too short a shrift to continue. Goodnight. 6月16日 Aha-ha-ha-ha-haThe phrase "Don't stop me now" comes to mind, I have to say.
Oh yes, the eighteenth birthday has arrived and after much trial and the like, finally I am overage and can vote, and do other obviously far more important things. Also my parents have taken the opportunity to buy me driving lessons which is exciting, especially in the contxt of the phrase "simulator" - I am somewhat worried, due to immediate images of being sat in a car with Mario in the passenger seat.
Turned on the news first thing, and am now praying that there will be a change of heart in the Labour Party and therefore my first vote ever will be on a referendum of the Lisbon Treaty. It won't happen, of course, but I'm inclined to say that it'd be rather fitting. The second thing I heard, coincidentally was the lovely people at Radio Four debating whether or not the legal age for buying alcohol should be put up to twenty-one. Of course it shouldn't you silly people. Especially not today.
L, bless her heart, of whom I'm so very proud, got me a fantastic present: a gift set of shower gels and things, in an overlarge box, which she'd stuffed to overfilling with Fox's Glacier Mints. This in itself being fantastic, I said with a grin, "Did you fit a whole pack in there?", fully expecting the answer yes, or not quite, or well after I'd had one myself.
"Three of them," she said. My sister is an absolute star.
And on this note I adjourn for toast. Have I told you you look absolutely wonderful today? No really. I would. 6月11日 Introspection 2I said I was going to bed about an hour ago - that was a bit of a lie, it transpires, because I'm still here, having graduated from listening to Carole King to Dave Gilmour and introspection, and wallowing in the years.
Occasionally, things happen to make you take a look at yourself and see how it all fits together, month on month or book by photograph by scribbled-on sheet of notepaper. I was looking through old diaries last night, from more than a year ago. I don't deny that I've been looking back at stuff from October to December 2006 - you can't narrow your eyes at me even though I feel a little guilty at it (what bloody idiot put Pink Floyd's "High Hopes" next on my playlist? Talk about mood music, stop putting words into my mouth), it's part of me in that it is History and it shaped my decisions. Regret and things, and rashness. Maybe the one percent of my life at the moment that I should have done differently, I could have had another friend if I'd done it properly.
One of these days, I'm determined, I'm going to have that curious cliché that is Closure. Until then, I shall always feel a little guilty, in my moments like this. Does this make sense?
(If you ever read this which you don't, but I'm interested to know why the silence. Some versions of events are believable and some are not.)
My maternal instinct has been coming out in force recently, and with it the wish to do something entirely irrational, like the other end of a magnet pulling me in some direction I know I'd be unhappy with in either direction. I'm in equilibrium at the moment, of sorts: not completely anything except for a few certainties like gravity, and if I could float I'd panic anyway.
I feel like France: a fact, not to be marvelled at, particularly, and the subject of a bored "Yeah, so?" whenever it is commented upon, because you knew already. I wish you didn't know already, any of you, so I could tell you This Is How It Is and you could sparkle with me and find things interesting that are still beautiful for their lack of newness.
"Shine On You Crazy Diamond". This playlist is entirely my fault. You know what? I'm going to go upstairs now, and at least have a go at rest.
Decide for yourself if that's the truth. 6月9日 A reflex actionThe flu watch people came to ours again today, for the last time, and so joy of joys they needed another blood sample. You may or may not recall that they turned up in October and it caused me to have a lovely, if slightly flippant, rant about how much I dislike needles. This is, to put it bluntly, an understatement. I cannot stand the things, and the prospect of giving four test tubes of blood preoccupied me for most of the day.
So they turned up just before seven and decided to do it straight away so there wasn't too much build-up - yeah, I'm snorting a little at that too, but still it could have been worse - and I just panicked. I did it, bloody hell, say what you like but I did it, and it felt it like it took forever as they took each needle out and replaced it with the next one for the next test tube and I tried not to shake, I really did but it was so, so horrible. When they'd finished I just burst into tears and I was dazed for the next two hours or so. Not from the pain of it, or loss of blood, it really wasn't that much, it's just the thought of the needle, going into my vein like it did... I can't even think or write about it now without shaking a little, it was horrible. I'm quite ashamed actually, because it's quite pathetic and I don't like crying in front of people I barely know, no matter how lovely they are. I feel like a wimp and I just want to hide away.
This evening, I cooked for myself because I didn't feel like an omelette, and went outside in the cool twilight and looked at the idyll that is our house, and garden, and vegetable patch, and the woods. It's beautiful and I want to share it, it doesn't seem right now seeing something so perfect and comfortable and being without M, and that made me a little sad.
On a different note - I'm a little scared, where have you all come from?! The lovely page that tells me the statistics about the number of people reading this crap that I write tells me that there are loads of you, far more than there used to be even recently and it's a little disconcerting. Not that I mind, but still, it is. And I don't know why you're here, not all of a sudden or even at all. So... hi, I suppose.
Ooh. Don't look now, I've gone all shy. 6月7日 Varying degrees of comfortToday, I did something I've never done before, and that is, I had a day off work because I was ill. In over a year, this is my first day off for illness, I've been ill before at work obviously, I nearly collapsed there in April, that was fun, but I've never had a day off. Until today. I sort of feel like this is really bad, like I had a record beforehand. It'll also be interesting to see if I end up getting paid for it. Eyebrow raise.
So I had a day off, and slept, and listened to the first five CDs of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" in one sitting, and ate basically non-stop - water biscuits and cashew nuts and anything I could find, really, anything that I could just keep eating. I don't think I've ever got to this stage before. I mean, I've had exams and not eaten or slept much during the exam period, but I've never got to the stage where I feel properly light-headed and sleep-deprived, and have had to spend a whole day sleeping and eating to make (partially) up for it. Part of me is a bit disappointed by that, too. On the other hand, anyone try and justify to me the view that J K. Rowling is not a good writer. Dammit she is. She is very good. Also, were Stephen Fry's reading voice personified, frankly I would want to sleep with it between my legs.
M: I thought about you in your exam. If I'd been anywhere near signal, i.e. at work, I would have texted you good luck. I was reduced to just thinking about you instead, not that I've not been doing that practically non-stop all day.
Made pizza last night. It was fun. And very cunning, until trawling through my Good Housekeeping, I had no idea it was possible to make decent pizza in 40 minutes. Proud. Somewhat worried though by my little sister and her friend A (who came round because she likes pizza and it seemed a good idea at the time) - sat in front of How to Look Good Naked, and every time someone over size ten comes on screen, they started going "eeeeuww" in the way that only tall slim fourteen-year-olds who are confident in their own popularity can do. Bloody hell. Why can't we all be this happy in our own bodies? On the other hand, it's horribly vain and I hope never to emit the sound "eeuw" in the context of the body of anyone under size twenty. This is something I'm a little touchy on. Maybe it's my fault I just thought they were being horribly insensitive.
So yeah, I think that's about it for now. Or at least, I can't think of anything else. Why am I still here? Good question. 6月5日 Broken thingsWell, today was lovely. General Studies aside - well no, writing an essay on global warming wasn't too bad actually, saves quite a lot of people from having to listen to me - the sunshine and excellent company and books and things were excellent. I swear over the summer I will end up spending an absolute fortune in the Cathedral bookshop. Again. But whyever not? Got me six books, law, maths, crosswords, cooking, narrative poetry and general encyclopedia all in one afternoon. Oh yes indeed.
Quite worried by a few things I've found out... but on the other hand really glad you saw fit to trust me with it. Either not much else to say or not much I can say on here. Probably the latter but you know how these things are.
Guides this evening, ultimate stress relief and I'd like you to see me there, I think it'd make you proud.
If I blow up at L tonight, she bloody deserves it but slightly short shrift where being answered back to is concerned. Not due to anything particular today, I'm just... touchy. Watch and learn.
I'll be back about half nine, M, ring me if you're not too busy because I miss the sound of your voice. 6月3日 Well, here we go...Successfully planned out the next two months, oh well, I'm sure I'll have some fun and sponteneity along the way. Not that it's looking bad in the slightest, not at all, I'm quite looking forward to it.
Went to see Marcus Brigstocke in London on Sunday, with Dad. He was interviewing Paul Daniels, who irritates me enormously, but Brigstocke made up for it exceptionally well. I do think he's very good. On a different note, London in the evening is beautiful, and always makes me tired. There's something ethereal about it, I want to go back by myself for a bit. We went into the massive Waterstones off Goodge Street. It was maze-like and I just wandered round, looking. What do you do, though, there was nowhere to sit except in Vetinary Science, the corridors were narrow and twisty and a little dark, I couldn't quite get the hang of it - it looked like a second hand bookshop in the best possible way, and yet they were new books. It didn't seem quite to fit. So I sat midway between books about dissecting dogs and books about tropical diseases, and wrote for a bit.
Making sense of things at the moment is becoming increasingly hard to do. Every time I turn around, somebody's breaking up, somebody's going to see the councillor, somebody's finding it tough at the moment. And yet, I feel like nothing's touching me, nothing's particularly wrong except for when I picture the next few Economics exams, and even that's just bouncing off me these days, like water. Even the rain hasn't had an effect on me recently. I haven't cried in months. And yet... everyone else seens to be close to breaking point. I don't understand.
I also can't work out why I haven't done it before, but I'm getting used to Being A Fact, it's just sinking in and bloody hell, I mean what do you think, isn't that just the strangest most offputting thing? Well, not the most offputting, not like that, but I still can't quite see it. Forever is such a long time. Don't ever consider this as second thoughts, but really, don't you think?
I've not been writing either diary or blog for quite some time, sorry. Sometimes I'll write anything. Sometimes the truth is better. At the moment I'm taking solace in writing lies. Well, fiction. So we'll see how it goes.
First Economics exam tomorrow. Please wish me luck, I need all I can get.
THE UNSAYABLE - A WORK OF FICTION (SO DON'T WORRY)
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Never again will we hold hands like this,
Or will your stubble scrape my chin when you kiss me. Never again will I see you asleep, Marvelling in your eyelashes, your lips, The curve of your ribs under skin as soft as silk, As translucent as muslin. Never again will I stroke your hairline Or laugh at that shared joke that is life. We did not argue, you and I, we did nothing but laugh. In my darkest moments, I used to regret it. I never saw you moved to anger. Your beautiful softness and optimism, I used to beg you wordlessly to break me, To hurt me so that I could not breathe For the distance. I don't care how. You never did. Never again will we be this close. If anyone asks me, this is all I can say: I could not let the barrier down; you could not scale it. |
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