Old Long Syne- James Watson (1711)

1.

Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
on Old long syne.

-Chorus-

On Old long syne my Jo,
in Old long syne,
That thou canst never once reflect,
in Old long syne.

2.

My Heart is ravisht with delight,
when thee I think upon;
All Grief and Sorrow takes the flight,
and speedily is gone;
The bright resemblance of thy Face,
so fills this, Heart of mine;
That Force nor Fate can me displease,
for Old long syne  

                               
-Chorus-

3.

Since thoughts of thee doth banish grief,
when from thee I am gone;   
will not thy presence yeild relief,      
to this sad Heart of mine:
Why doth thy presence me defeat,
with excellence divine?
Especially When I reflect
on old long syne

-Chorus-              

A quick round up on the words which have haunted me throughout this year,
where better to sum them all up?

"I'm a loser in love, so baby,                                                   

raise a glass to mend all the
broken hearts of all my wrecked up friends"

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

"You know sometimes baby I'm so carefree,                                              
with a joy that's hard to hide

Then sometimes again it seems that all I have is worry                      

and then you're bound to see my other side"

"Alors on danse"

 
"El octavo día Dios,                 ¿Quién se iba a imaginar
después de tanto trabajar,      que el mismo dios al regresar
para liberar tensiones,             iba a encontrario todo
luego ya de revisar,                 en un desorden infernal?
dijo: "todo está muy bien,       Y que se iba a convertir
es hora de descansar",           en un desempleado más
y se fue a dar un paseo           de la tasa que actualmente
por el espacio sideral.             está creciendo sin parar"

"Wish I had a mango tree

In my backyard
With you standin next to me
Take the picture
From her lips I heard her say
Can I have you
Call her up oh what to say
I said you do 

"Old habits die hard when you got, when you got a sentimental heart"

"Sugar man, won't you hurry?
'cause I'm tired of these scenes
for a blue coin won't you bring back
all those colours to my dreams?             
silver magic ships you carry...
jumpers cold, sweet Mary Jane

Sugar man, made a false friend

on a lonely dusty road.

Lost my heart when I found him

it had turned to dead black coal           

silver magic ships, you carry...

jumpers cold, sweet Mary Jane

Sugar man, you're the answer

that makes all my questions disappear
sugar man, cause I'm weary

of those awful games, I hear"

 

"I’ve been here since first period, I had a cold, I took all my antibiotics at the same time, now I forgot how to leave."

"There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love."

Have fun finding where these all come from!

Happy New Year everyone, I hope it's a good one xxx

"....Like my knob!"

We'll take a cup of kindess yet, for auld lang syne

Currently listening to: Auld Lang Syne (Hotel Cafe Presents...)  // My Yvonne (Jack Penate)
Currently pondering: Oh I hate you tellaphone...how I hate you...

Christmas could have gone on and on across these households, but for the sake of my waistline and skinny jeans, we are putting an official end to it NOW. No more junk food, no mid-week drinking, no more than 5 meals a day thank you very much. Until New Year's Eve- the final opportunity of the year to drink and eat to your heart's content without being judged on your porcine eating manners. But after that, the diet starts. Again. And serious revision gets under way, not the piddly kind you start while watching some House M.D. or Gossip Girl and the like.
So, new year, new year resolutions, new developments etc etc- but can I just make one tiny request? STOP IT WITH THE SHODDY NEW TECHNOLOGY. Make things better! Let me explain...

17months ago I signed up for a new contract with my little blackberry. It was love at first sight: gone was the poor touch-screen predecessor with all these glorious buttons, free texts to others with blackberries, internet on my phone and cute phone themes I could change as much as I liked. Heavenly. And then things turned sour. Phone decided to play mind games with me, refusing to recognise new software updates so persistently, that I was convinced Elisa's updates were fakes/viruses/because her BB was different to my BB. I called Orange for peace of mind, and lo! 11months in, they delivered! A new phone that is. I was officially on top of new technology and was doing my tech-savvy man friend proud.
And then 2 months ago, phone learned some new tricks. This time, it was a case of not sending or making phone calls I wanted to make, but cutting me off from new texts and calling odd numbers and even odder times of night. A result of this, I ended up with a £70 phone bill (compared to usual £24) that I couldn't even dispute because technically the calls were undeniably made. Even if they weren't by me. I was even asked if I'd been drunkenly calling and texting more than usual! The cheek! I have learned my lesson RE: drunk texting, and haven't done it in ages or to anyone except Alex. After having a bit of a hissy fit, the phone company agreed to remotely monitor/update my phone to clear it of any possible bugs it might have, and for a while it seemed to work. Then it began AGAIN. The only explanation Orange had this time was that it might have been an issue on other phone networks e.g. Vodafone etc, that was upsetting my call and text reception *raised eyebrow* so they'd put me on a new scheme to share network signal with T-mobile, and that should fix the problem. It didn't. Of course it didn't. But I have now found that T-mobile has a lot better signal coverage than orange, go figgur.
The latest episode of the saga: absolutely NO calls and texts being made/received on time since before Christmas. At least before I had a 60% success rate.

....and NOW the little sod has given my laptop ideas, and I have a trojan horse roaming around here somewhere. And I lost my laptop charger before I could banish it, so after 3 days, my anti-virus can't find it anywhere and I'm too afraid to shop online in case someone nicks my credit card details. 

-Technology is actually rebelling against me. Thank goodness I'm only three weeks from upgrading to a new phone, and I can then banish my "Whackberry" to the depths of a drawer reserved for old, dusty, decrepit gadgets and gizmos. 

New Year, new phone. But I can write something a lot more interesting about New Year's than a long-winded grumble against my phone.

Last Christmas day dinner, I'd put a version of "Auld Lang Syne" at the end of our play list to appease the old fogies, but knowing we would never realistically spend that long at the table to ever hear it. But we did. Goooooood grief we spent ages slumped over empty dinner plates, belts and waistbands creaking like old wooden ships about to breach and take on water. Titanic-sized wooden ships. Digression. Dad went gaga over this cover of Auld Lang Syne, to the point he began tearily singing along to it, not just under his breath, but really belting it out! It was so surreal. I put it on the play list again this year, knowing how much he loved it, and it was pretty much the same reaction, but a little quieter thanks to a sleeping baby. I decided to do a little googlin' and see what this song was all about and I quite liked the info that came up in the process.

A popular New Year's song, written by Rabbie Burns and performed by drunkards spanning the English-speaking world, it never fails to goad someone into asking (usually my niece): "What on earth is this song about?!" Let me enlighten you m'dears.

Auld Lang Syne

Chorus.

And for auld lang syne, my jo,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne,

1.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And days o' auld lang syne.

2.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!

And surely I'll be mine!

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

3.

We twa hae

And pu'dgowans fine;

But we've wander'd mony a weary foot

Sin auld lang syne.

4.

We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,

Frae mornin' sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd

Sin auld lang syne.

5.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!

And gie's a hand o' thine!

And we'll tak a right guid willy waught,

For auld lang syne                                                    

Doesn't it make so much sense now?!

Ha! No. But I also found a translation!

Chorus.

And for old long past, my joy (sweetheart),

For old long past,

We will take a cup of kindness yet,

For old long past,

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And days of old long past.

And surely you will pay for your pint-vessel!

And surely I will pay for mine!

And we will take a cup of kindness yet,

For old long past.

We two have run about the hillsides

And pulled the wild daisies fine;

But we have wandered many a weary foot

Since old long past.

We two have paddled in the stream,

From morning sun till noon;

But seas between us broad have roared

Since old long past.

And there is a hand, my trusty friend!

And give me a hand of yours!

And we will take a right good-will drink,

For old long past.                                                                                    

  Isn't that nice? 

It made me think of an old friend I'd seen on the street a few days ago, but by the time I'd realised who it was to say hi, I'd lost them in the Christmas crowds. I should have texted them later on to see how they were but for some reason I let the "it's been too long, we wouldn't have anything to talk about, and I don't want us to be awkward around each other ever" thoughts stop me.

(I realised after publishing I should probably give a little background here or the sentiments are a little lost). When I was a lot younger, knee high to a grasshopper, I had a very very close friend who I went to school with, saw everyday outside of school and considered a best friend/sibling kind of figure. We pretty much grew up together, but when we went to different secondary schools, we for some reason just entirely stopped seeing each other. It was only years and years later when we bumped into each other on the walk home from school did we exchange numbers and started chatting again, only to stop talking yet AGAIN. Fast forward to uni life, and we had a huge catch up chat after which I realised we were two totally different people. Not that we couldn't talk about anything or that it was awkward, but I just mourned the two small kids who rode around on bikes and scooters together, and who swapped some beads for a golden lion pendent (Peter Pan similarities? Yes, I told you that film shaped my childhood). I still have that pendent somewhere, I found it when we moved house and it only made me feel even sadder about moving. I want to be 8 years old agaaiiinn! Ahem. So the fact that I didn't get in touch with someone so important to me only wins me huge bad-guy points. I'm such a wimp. I am not impressed with myself right now.

With how far away from home and home-friends I am, and with having to split myself across 2 homes, and just my general laid-back attitude, the only friendships that can work for me are the ones that aren't affected by time. The ones where even after ages of not seeing each other, or keeping in touch, if put into a room we could just pick up right where we left off and get on with catching up.
I was having a conversation about this with someone else earlier on during the week and thought it must be really easy for that kind of relationship to be misunderstood as an excuse to just "never bother with someone". I was getting a little put-out by thinking somebody just wasn't making an effort to see me, but what if that was how other people were perceiving my attitude? I needed to reflect on the difference between not being able to give someone time because it was time you didn't have or because you didn't have time for a certain person.

This holiday break, I've been trying to divide my time evenly between my own family and Alex's, spending alternating nights at each and leaving early/arriving late to balance the quality time I got at each. I thought that was fair enough, but then I realised mum was feeling a little neglected because while I've had "family time" I've not had very much "mummy-and-me time". I felt horrendously guilty. I never realised how many worries she's had for me over the last few months, and since she hasn't had a chance to be reassured by me, she's only been getting more worried. Tomorrow is officially dedicated to mum, cuddles, clearing the air and booking health-related appointments. Some parts seem instantly more appealing than others, but whatever puts momma at ease. And I think I need to re-cut my time spending so that it isn't split 50:50, but rather 50:30:15:5 to factor in revision and non-family quality time too.
I also had to assure mum that I wanted to spend time with her because I wanted to, not out of duty. What good is spending a day with her if I'm checking my watch all the time, or opening up my laptop while I'm watching a film with her and making it clear that she is one of my lowest priorities? I know that personally, I'd prefer to feel like an elected option rather than a last resort/forced hand/lower ranked priority. 

They say your new year is set by how you spent New Year's Eve. My relationship has weathered NYE's together and apart, so hopefully spending this year's with the family won't spell disaster for my love life and I can enjoy my night surrounded by the lovely family guzzling down champagne and Vietnamese food. Mmmmm Asian heritage....taaaasty....

Be kind to each other and have a lovely New Year lovers (oh I feel so Snoop Dogg!)
xxx

Yay for drunken reunions :D

I never realised this table had a hidden third portion, resulting in us
positioning it diagonally across the room

Whilst you can crop out people who blink,
there's no way of making a grumpy teen look happy

#It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas...

Eeeeeeverywhere I goooooo#

Currently listening to: Maria Maria (Santana) // Youm Wara Youm (Cheb Mami)

Currently pondering: how little should I eat tomorrow if I'm wearing a bodycon dress that night/ Christmas dinner x 2, is it too late for a bubble bath?

Those of you who know me, know how I love Christmas, to the extent it takes over my brain from my birthday onwards, and I'm bellydancing to Christmas songs (yes, it can be done so lower that eyebrow please)/stocking up on copious amounts of stuffing (who doesn't like a good stuffing? Ho hum..)/ finding Christmassy cocktails to accompany meals (egg nog is so last decade darling, it's all about the Pimms Winter Cup or a Whisky Ginger).

Before we begin, I'd like to take a moment to send a little prayer/ mental hug/ well-meaning wish to all those who are struggling to be where they want to be this Christmas. Asides from the weather, there are plenty of other horrible circumstances dividing people from loved ones which sadly cannot be overcome. I have nothing worthy of moaning about right now, so God can take my prayer and dedicate it to someone else out there who needs it a little more than I do.

Tonight's blog will revolve around "Firsts". Behold as I take several loose threads and tie them all together in a big Christmassy bow!

This Christmas, we will be setting an extra place at the table for the latest addition to the family: Little baby Luke. This will be his first Christmas, following on from a multitude of firsts I've experienced with him today alone. I was left to babysit him for a while today, and we made our way through:

1. My first experience of one of his fussy/sleepy tantrums

2. My first successful attempt to put him to sleep

3. My first successful attempt to make him giggle, burble and babytalk to me.

4.....His first experience of falling out of his cot and landing face first on the bedroom floor.

 After describing to Beau last night this parental calling to do your damndest to protect your offspring, including damning the ground children graze their knees on, I found my heart breaking while consoling the poor baby from his rude awakening. Why aren't floors bouncy?! Why did the cot barrier slip down?! And how very dare gravity for pulling him downwards so hard during the fall!? Curse you physics, I have yet a score to settle with you. Baby is OK though, after 15mins of cuddling and fussing, we realised (get ready for a little chuckle) that the poor lamb had messed himself due to the fright of falling so far, but after a very smelly nappy change, he was all giggles and spit bubbles again with the help of his rattle toy. Another first: seeing someone literally scared poopless. But DAMN is this kid a happy child! He sings back to you as you sing him to sleep. Regardez-vous, and die-ez vous from cuteness as Grandma puts the little tyke to sleep (right before the cot-falling incident):

_Video Removed_

That beautiful child. Love it.

I also got my first kiss under the mistletoe this week. *Cheshire cat grin* After 4 years, we still have firsts to conquer. Next on the list we have our first Christmas together! I have to admit, a lot of my excitement for this is due to having 2 Christmas dinners :D I'm a fat person trapped in a slightly less fat person's body, and the former is a real foody. I fear not ye carbs, nor ye fats, but I welcome you with outstretched sweatpants and a willing, yet clogged, heart. Or to be more accurate, a maxi dress and stretchy knickers.  ...I think I get why the boy thinks of me more as a comical than a seksual being. Pity.

And for the first time (but a few weeks ago) Momma referred to Alex and I as our own little family unit, followed by his mother then giving me (as a Birthday present) our first living-together house furnishing which only further cemented my starry-eyed "Really? You guys take us that seriously? We've started our journey into adulthood and begun the process of starting a family which proceeds the physical act of starting a family which itself would notoccuruntilafterenteringthesanctityofmarriage? Awww you guuuys!" Just to clarify, it's not that I'm exceptionally broody (all the time) that I've thought ahead to the future. It's due to the obscene extent to which I need to have things planned, organised and under control. I'm the person who although enjoys being surprised, if I know I'm being surprised but don't know what the surprise is, will be pretty crabby until I find out. I nearly fell out with Him because he knew what my birthday present was and wasn't telling me. I'm a control freak. I'll deal with it, eventually, I guess. I think you know you're part of the family when your mother in law not only leaves you bikini wax strips on the other side of the bedroom door in the morning, but also declares you'll be the one cleaning her up when in her old age she begins wetting the bed. Unconditional love huh?

So, the overwhelming sense of family-expansion and newness of stuff have been the only things helping me overcome the huge irritation I am finding this Christmas. (N.B. It is always CHRISTMAS, not "the Holiday Season" or "Xmas", but CHRISTMAS. Let's keep the Christ in Christmas yo. The aforementioned labels only make it sound tacky and impersonal, when it should be all lovely, and familial, and belly-bloated.) I digress. As always.
I can't be the only one who's noticed that money just is not stretching as far as it used to? Stocking fillers are now costing just as much as the main gift itself, and the shop offerings- although vast- are terribly uninspiring. I can't help but imagine the accompanying sheepish grin I'd have to pull off while presenting these gifts to convey the sense of "No, don't even bother looking enthusiastic about this epilator/book highlighting how terrible old age is/chocolaty hindrance to your diet. I too, know this is crap".
Instead I'm taking to battle both situations with making my own gifts, which is taking forever now that I've adopted an extra set of parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, nephews but at least then I can get away with a "Look at how much time I slaved over this for you!" call for appreciation. I'll make it up to them all with better budgeting skills and presents around their upcoming birthdays. If in a few years they still feel raw about it, and I'm earning enough, I'll wow them all with an engraved gold ingot or something. I dunno. This frustration with gift-giving really wound me up though, to the extent to which I completely forgot the fact that the present part of my usual Christmas day takes about 30mins. A minuscule portion of the day compared to how long we spend cooking food in our pyjamas, peeling brussel sprouts with a festive film on, eating till guts bust all over the table, amassing on the couch, cuddly-cosy and warm talking about the latest news/reviewing the year and watching Dr Who. Get ready for the ever classic notion: Christmas is about so much more than a few pretty boxes under the tree. I forgot about how nauseatingly happy I was when I made my nephew laugh for the first time today, that this Christmas day I'll be hell-bent on taking beautiful pictures of him in a Zebra costume and dressing him in discarded ribbon to care about how defeated I felt buying gifts for everyone. I'm also blessed to have such a wonderful relationship with someone, that I get included in their family Christmas/birthday/anniversary plans as an in-group member. I'd need one hell of a reality slap if I could overlook the family-bonding, tension-resolving, religious importance of Christmas for the stress of finding the non-existent "perfect gift". Sod it, hope they all like lopsided sewing attempts, I've sacrificed touch sensation in four fingers for this.

Queuing at my favourite church (ever seen/in St Andrews) for the carol service

Upside down bible scenes on the ceiling! I love pretty details on things, of course this church won my heart

Birthday present from momma-in-law, glasses and alcohols included :D

Decorating the treeeeee!

Merry Christmas y'all

Also in keeping with "firsts": First late blog post! Totally planned it.

Lovelove xx

How a Domestic Goddess Handles Her Adonis

The pilot light in the boiler went off.

The heating switched off, hot water was out of the question and a general panic ensued for a couple of hours (but mainly just between Elisa and I as noone else had noticed). After resetting the boiler umpteen times, we managed to spark some life in the ol' gal and she was back in action providing heat and comfort once again. This is just the latest episode in the ongoing "Stuff that keeps breaking in this house saga", a few days ago I fixed the hinges in my wardrobe with a pair of tweezers, weeks before that I'd scrubbed mould off the ceiling, and before that I got the joy of reattaching the toilet seat to the toilet (no tweezers there, just bare hands. Mmmm mmm.) Not even mentioning dealing with extracting a small-medium build dog's toupee from the bristles of the hoover. If I have learned one thing from this year living out of halls its that I am perfectly capable of dealing with minor domestic crises- my mother would be so proud.

Anyway this entire nightmare of a house reminded me of when my Dad foolishly left me and Mum at home while he was away on holiday, and in the course of ONE night, my mother had removed all the carpeting from the living room and hallway, set down a layer of that green insulating board, fitted new laminate flooring and varnished it. Single handedly. In one night. As in, I went to bed, entered a coma, and woke up to new flooring. I was amazed and Mum was beyond pleased with herself, smug for the rest of Dad's absence. But when he came back, he declared his hate of wooden floorings. He's a traditional soul who believes firmly that a good quality carpet is the staple of a good family home. That sort. Mum was not so pleased with this reaction.

My mum is the true definition of "Domestic Goddess", she cooks, she cleans, she plays accountant/therapist/cheer squad/ babysitter and mother day after day without much complaint (she enjoys relishing a little sympathy and gratitude from time to time, it gets her a free manicure and lemon drizzle cake if she plays it just right). Whilst keeping the household running, and making sure the family is firmly knitted together, don't go thinking my Mother is a doormat of the family or re-enacting that furiously annoying image of "Suzy homemaker", she very DEFINITELY undertakes the "-Goddess" part of the phrase. When Dad showed his ingratitude of what she considered to be an awesome renovation (it so was Dad, you fool) Mum (a.k.a Betty for those who don't know, dig that awesome name) didn't wilt and or look downtrodden, heck no. She ripped him a new one, and then educated him on why he was wrong and would be sleeping on the couch that night (easier to clean, more insulating than carpet, more fashionable etc). Afterall, what Goddess would opt to shrivel in the face of criticism and submit to a mere mortal's will rather than do a little smiting? Geez, come on.

My Mother, the awesome force. The woman who can take on a million chores in a day, lift you up when you're down in the dumps but put you back in your place when you get all knobbish, is my idol. If I had to single out one parenting technique that she pulled off well, it's how to keep people grounded. I will never be able to say how much I appreciate her keeping me in check when I'm away with the fairies, and the way she's taught me to reflect on myself when I notice the warning signs that something is on the brink of going wrong. I think that's invaluable, seeing as it's hard to really be critical of yourself without being too harsh, but also not just covering up everything with "that's not actually a problem though" and ignoring things at jeopardy. The balance between what we want to believe and what we have to realise. The battle between the Fellowship and Sauron. Good VS Evil. Aaaah reality checks. So Mum takes a "No B-S" approach to nearly everything, unless she's conning the Sky call center to give us a few free channels, and orchestrates it with such a flair that there really is no getting past her. It overlaps with this psychic ability of knowing when someone needs to hear a little cushioning "no, you're not being unreasonable" and the ever-honest "he was an ugly mug anyway, I never liked him, you just can't trust someone with {insert physical characteristic here}".

In the spirit of godesslyness, what do you do when your Adonis turns out to be nothing but a Narcissus (read: Jackass)?

Momma told me the following.

1. If you're right, educate the fool. There's no point in having a fight and making up unless you TEACH him why he's wrong, so then he has no excuse to do x/y/z again in ignorance. If he does it again despite knowing better, rip him a new one, you are not to be pushed over.

2. If he's right, be a dignified loser. This happened recently. I was crabby because I'd had a shitty day. Lover was crabby because he'd had a shitty day. Result was that we were sniping at each other and winding each other up= both in the wrong. We decided to quit while we were ahead, hung up, had the night to ourselves (I steamed a little bit, passive agressively made penguin costumes) and went to bed. The next day we started with an apology and a do-over, and it was fine. There's no point in throwing yourself at someone's feet the moment you've had a fight. Yes its nice to clear the air straight away, but you need time to reflect on a) how serious is this? b) how relevant is this? Is there anything more to it? c) you need to FEEL an emotion. Take time to feel angry/pissed off/indignant/hormonal, but at least let yourself come face to face with it. Sublimating the negative doesn't make it go away, it'll only fester in some other part of your life, or come back to bite you in the ass at some later date. "Sooner rather than later " lovers.

3. If he's being unduly demanding, make him do it himself. There's a fine yet dramatic difference between being a "Domestic Goddess" and just a slave. And saying "you're doing it because you want to do it" is a cheap line. You shouldn't do anything to validate your own existence on somebody else's terms. If I'm making you burritos, re-fried beans and nachos, I'm doing it because it satisfies my craving for the aforementioned/its a special occasion and you deserve a treat/ I have a killer new recipe. It's not me over-stretching myself just to hear a "Cheers love". Note: I don't feed my man crap just because I can't be bothered to cook, I'll always feed him well, but not because it "makes me a better woman". I'm also not a die-hard feminist.

4. If you're being unduly demanding, quit it. Review: are you standing up on account of your principles or being a bit high-maintenance. Is it reasonable to expect someone to call you more than twice a day? (I say twice, because Beau never picks up on the first call when his phone is on silent. The first set of vibrations are fobbed off as an itch/muscle spasm, the second set is the "oh shit, that was my phone" realisation). I knew someone who called their loverman upwards of 4 times a day, and when he went on holiday, I was called, to call my boyfriend, to call her boyfriend, to call her. He was still in Europe. It was the second day of a 4 day holiday. It was nuts. Turns out she just wanted to have a little chat, see how he was- he was the same he'd been that morning. Nuts.

They aren't techniques lacking compassion, there's equal chance for both sides to be right/wrong as long as you don't drag in lots of tiny "but, I....I thought he...but what if?"s that are utterly unhelpful. And usually all in your head. I pity Alex for the first year at uni I put him through, yeesh, all the fuzzcrap was exhausting- it's a wonder I didn't get the axe after that. Luckily, Mum gave me the whole "You really want a relationship like this for the rest of your life? Do you see you guys making it to the alter bickering like this? Do you see yourself at the alter with anyone like this? You want him? You want anyone?" talk and straightened me out. We now operate on a no B-S policy. I don't get away with things/ get to kick up a fuss because I'm a girly girl, but he also doesn't get to be spoiled by me just because he's my man. I cook burritos, he makes cajun pasta. He goes off and does his own thing, I go off and do my own thing. We get back to each other and he brings flowers, I bring out the nice knickers.

"Alex, that tone of voice is patronising and winds me up, stop now before I hang up."

"Sorry. Lilly, I would love to spend time with you, but if you're not talking and have only called me for the sake of having me around, I'd rather go to bed."

"Sorry. Night!"

Every girl deserves flowers from time to time

Turtle shelling is a favourite pasttime

Man makes cajun pasta

Man make good man

Breakfast in bed, with inadvertant loveheart in a pancake

You could close your eyes and hear my week

This.Snow.Is.Pants.
Because of it, I don't have the intended illustrations for this blog post nor any of the men I wanted to see over the past week. And Starbucks ran out of milk. Grrrr. Here, have these ones instead.

Doesn't it look cosy? Mmmm

 Passer-by, if I weren't already taken, I know which website I'd be posting my crude romantic proposition on...

 Well, that predatory comment is probably gonna land me in some hot water upon publishing..whoops! Moving onwards, ever onwards, and upwards, and forever twirling- TWIRLING! (Simpsons reference anyone?) How have the ladies been keeping the chills at bay this weeks? Asides from preposterous layers of fleeces, blankets and socks? I discovered that watching Baz Luhrmann's "Romeo & Juliet" makes for one productive essay writing day, I managed to knock out about 1,000 words during and after that, all the while revelling in the witty dialogue and unbuttoned shirts. Aaaaah the 90s... My favourite scene of that without a doubt, is the duel at the petrol station. "DO YOU BITE YOUR THUMB AT ME, sir?" "NO, Sir, BUT I DO BITE MY THUMB, I DO NOT BITE MY THUMB AT YOU! Sir" And Tybalt has such graceful hands. If belly dance has taught me nothing else, it is the appreciation of beautiful hands.

Continuing with the movie magic, we then celebrated the end of that same essay with a 16 inch, stuffed-crust pizza and the "Little Mermaid". "Kiss The Girl" is my date song. Whenever a date goes really well, and I start thinking "Are we gonna kiss? Is a kiss expected? Would it be rude to withhold a wee peck on the cheek?" then this huge crescendo of the song starts up out of nowhere, and before I realise its all purely in my head, I've already started darting my eyes round the room as if hunting out an epileptic bee. Well, no, I don't, but it makes me feel very flustered. It still happens with him too. One date night last year it started snowing as we left the restaurant, fairy lights everywhere, and Sebastian the crab was wringing a fish's neck at that point- "GO AN AN KISS THE GIRL!".
Then last night, as I made headway with yet another essay, we watched the epic (running at 3 hours long, it is EPIC) "Snow Queen". It comes on every Christmas, is played in 3 installments, and is suitably girly and festive. I wouldn't rave to recommend it, I think its just ones of those things I love for no good reason.

You know what makes for a really good late-night play list though?
-Stornoway: Fuel Up
-Bat For Lashes: Daniel
-Noah and the Whale: The First Days of Spring

All songs I've had for a while, but not really paid any attention to, but oh are those good songs. The first one by Stornoway, that guy has such a beautiful voice. It's "that kind of voice", generically different, but I like it. Angus Stone too, has a voice that puts me in a trance (I friggin' LOVE Angus and Julia Stone, but they're one of the ones I don't want to be discovered so I can have them all to myself). I can't chose a favourite lyric from this, not a sole one, but I love this chunk right here:

Open your eyes and you're nine years older
Hands on the wheel and you're racing on over
To lie with your first love, you can't wait to see her
You borrowed the car and you think you're the driver
But now you're the passenger to your own heart
and it takes you travelling, travelling on.

When the morning broke and the sky fell down
It went black as night and the wind blew round
And stole your directions, you lost your way home
And you felt like a passenger left by the road
But I'll tell you the reason you couldn't get home
Cause there's nowhere you've been and it's nowhere you're going
Home is only a feeling you get in your mind
From the people you love and you travel beside
You may feel like a passenger but now you're the driver
You've got to go travelling, travelling on
Because if you break down, it's a cold, hard shoulder

So fuel up your mind and fire up your heart and drive on

I do a lot of travelling to get to my better half, at shortest its a half hour drive and longest a 6/7hour train if its a Friday or a Sunday. In any case, it's the longest amount of time to be thinking "not long now, and then the missing will stop". It's awful really, knowing the balm never lasts as long as you'd like it to, considering 8months our of a year you're playing a pseudo-single life. It was more bearable last year for some reason. Sorry, next song.

I didn't much like "Daniel" before, thinking someone had just coined onto any male name that would fit the hipster style, but then I actually listened to the lyrics and realised it was a little story. In short, girl meets boy, they have fun together, love each other, and when they part she still uses memories of him for comfort. That's what I got out of it anyway. I'm not being sappy, I'm not saying its a good song because its about love and holding a candle/flame for someone. No. Go away. I like the idea of having a home with someone: "Home is where the heart is". When I'm at uni, home is where mum's cooking is, where messing around with my sister is, where playing flying angels in the garden is. But when I'm home-home, home is where my girls are, where I laugh so hard at Sophie punching the inside of her jumper that I'm in pain, where I get the tightest hugs when I'm feeling a bit crap.

And when the fires came
The smell of cinders and rain
Perfumed almost everything
We laughed and laughed and laughed
And in the golden blue
Car you took me to the darkest place
And you set fire to my heart
...
And as my heart ran round
My dreams pulled me from the ground
Forever to search for the flame
For home again

 "The First Days of Spring" Well that's just a damned good driving song. If I had a cigarette, I'd sit cross-legged on my bed, with a glass of wine, a trusty smoke, and go through old photo albums and a book. Either the works of Neruda or the latest PostSecret book (both of which I plan on buying as a reward for hard work at Christmas).

For I do believe that everyone has one chance
To fuck up their lives
But like a cut down tree, I will rise again
And I'll be bigger and stronger than ever before

Might need that smoke now... it's all getting a little blurry in here

Lovelovee xx

Birthday Post!

Currently listening to: California King Bed (Rihanna) All I Want For Christmas (Mariah. again)
Currently pondering: Graduation, snow, paaaaiiin

This was never meant to be a Birthday post. I'd written something completely different, then remembered it's MY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW, and supposed I ought to commemorate the occasion. I can now say that my dad forgot how old I was turning, mum wasn’t sure when it was my birthday, and I just full on forgot it. Runs in the family, clearlyWhat better time to write something semi-philosophical and thought provoking- There is none! So, I'm stumped..

 <.<                           >.>                  >.<

No I'm not, of course I'm not. I'm not going to bore you with some soppy " this year has been so amazing..." post, I'm better than that. And it hasn't been all rosy and amazing, but a pendulum swing between extremes and back, and I won’t divulge the gory bits without a strong drink or a huge chip on my shoulder.What I am going to do is talk about 2 things from my childhood that are revived around this time of year every year, and why. The two most played video tapes I owned as a child were Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland, and I was SO HAPPY when both of them were remade in the last few years- it’s like the world was woken up to their brilliance and the stories were growing up with me. 

I have now put on  the Peter Pan film... I LOVE THIS FILM, it’s so good, the kids are so cute, and I have a thing for the guy who plays Pan. Ahem. That doesn’t make me sound good...He just has this really cute impish charm! Can I clarify I dig the charm, not the 12 yr old boy? I’m moving on now before I cause any more damage. Eeesh.

My love for Peter Pan does run deeper than physical attraction and fairytales though, I liked the sense of adventure and childhood crushes. I took the notion of love very seriously as a child. Probably fuelled by Disney’s portrayal of it. Then I actually started dating and it was like "WHOOOOAA Nelly! This isn’t how it’s meant to be!" Plus the idea of growing up always has scared me...so every year I end up going through Peter Pan Syndrome! -as I call it. This is the phenomenon I usually experience this time of year, where I defy Father Time, ball my hands into little fists, and thrash around until he agrees not to let me age this year. He usually wins, he has a very forceful manner of debate.  But I don’t have it this year! I’m quite looking forward to turning 21, I have an array of celebrations to see me through (I love hosting, it makes me feel quite satisfied with my little self), and my first act as a 21 year old is gonna be a scream. But I’m keeping that a secret, don’t want to ruin the surprise after all!

Alice in Wonderland is one of those things that if you read with an open mind, the nonsense soon makes sense. Par example

The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, "Why is a raven like a writing-desk?"
"Come, we shall have some fun now!" thought Alice. "I'm glad they've begun asking riddles. — I believe I can guess that," she added aloud.
"Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?" said the March Hare.
"Exactly so," said Alice.
"Then you should say what you mean," the March Hare went on.
"I do," Alice hastily replied; "at least--at least I mean what I say--that's the same thing, you know."
"Not the same thing a bit!" said the Hatter. "You might just as well say that 'I see what I eat' is the same thing as 'I eat what I see'!"
"You might just as well say," added the March Hare, "that 'I like what I get' is the same thing as 'I get what I like'!"
"You might just as well say," added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, "that 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same thing as 'I sleep when I breathe'!"

Be sure to say what you mean and mean what you say! These are indeed two totally different concepts no matter how similar they may sound. I read the book again over the summer, and I think it's one of those books that releases a little bit of philosophy with every reading. This time I picked up on the above quotation and liked it very much. I said it last week, I'll say it again, I'll say it forever more: Be straight with me! I have no time to be messed about with, especially if there's no good reason. And I found it's the only way to keep friendships going. Alice usually makes an appearance about this time of year when I want to check that I still find the world around me interesting and full of wonder (yeh I went there) and as far as I can see, it is!

I took this picture of the moon a few nights ago, it looked absolutely huge! B-E-A-ootiful!

This was taken last year, and it reminds me of that bit in alice when she's been shrunk and is walking amongst the flowers!

Sophie as my own personal Alice, just before she joins the Caucus race

Now, I'll get back to some real work before I spend my night having a pint and playing pool, I intend to have a big cocktail in my hand as the clock strikes 12!
Lovelove xxx (and apologies for a sub-standard post, the next will be an audio-deeelight)

Keep your Darcy, Im holding out for a Heathcliff.

Prepare for a long one folks!

Currently Listening to: Home (Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros) & Hero (Mariah Carey) Yeh I'm mixing genres! What of it?!
Currently Pondering: Bleh, too much milk. And why haven't I heard "Home" sooner!? It's a firm favourite.

We sat on the sofa, snuggled under Elisa’s duvet, ate the remnants of her Birthday cake, and indulged our Christmas and spinster spirit simultaneously by watching Bridget Jones’ Diary. Colin Firth as the ever-delectable Mr Darcy, and Hugh Grant (omgomg, he WINKED at me this year at the Open, yeh, HUGH GRANT noticed me on the way back from the loo and acknowledged my existence!) in his usual businessy-playboy type role. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Anyway, BJD is meant to be a modern spin of Pride and Prejudice if I’m right? It was made with that in mind correct? I get its also meant to be a collection of journalistic columns by Helen..thingamybob. It doesn’t really matter, its just my tenuous bridge from one classic love story to another, and lo! I shall spring into my main argument.

Mr Darcy, as lovely as you are, and in spite of the flocks of women looking for a modern Darcy of their own, like our dear Bridget, I myself, am looking for a Heathcliff.
-Yeh you heard right, I’m a Wuthering Heights fan. Cathy + Heathcliff 4eva. Hang on now, no don’t go leaving, just sit tight and I’ll try and show you why if you haven’t already read this book, you need to.

It applies to real life! It does! I’ve seen the scenario SO many times that: Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy finds another boy after girl, girl sits there thinking “oh...crrap.” Now, if girl is to make any sort of choice between the two, it seems only logical she’ll chose the man who can show her that she won’t be happier with anyone but him, correct? Unless she has some masochistic tendency or a materialistic definition of happy, of course. In any situation, disappearing off the face of the earth, making a girl feel like an idiot while she’s harbouring affection for you or cavorting with other girls will NOT secure the lady’s hand, Darcy. Again, unless she has slight masochistic tendencies. I’ve seen and heard about this situation from friends male and female, experienced it for myself, and can determine it is not fun for any of the parties involved. I have total sympathy for anyone caught in this situation, but ultimately, don’t get more stressed about it than needs be. The course of true love never runs smooth, but that doesn’t mean it needs to be like treading a minefield. If it gets too much for you to handle before you get into a relationship with someone, what would an actual relationship with them be like them? I found comfort in pages 54-59.

“My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.—My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”

I’m having trouble wording my second reason for loving this book. Basically, the love that Cathy and Heathcliff have for each other isn’t perfect and functionable, but it’s so fierce, and so passionate, that it does work. In a non-working way. *Spoiler warning* They never marry, but it still seems like they are magnetised to each other, and despite them trying to fight it, desperately trying to guard themselves from giving in to each other, it seems inevitable they will eventually end up together. Come hell and high water. Almost. I appreciate fairy-tale depictions of love and romance, They make me go all gooey and warm, but in practicality, I find more reassurance in the idea that no matter what might happen, I’ll have a love that can’t be waivered. Not so that I then have permission to mess around and act like a jerk, and I’m not talking about soulmates, but I’m trying to get to the idea that you can find in someone something that ignites this intense feeling in you, that can’t be dampened down. I think that’s nice. I might be too idealistic, but I don’t think that beyond the reach of most people. Maybe.

Before I lose your attention, I need to use my favourite part of the book, please? Ok! Cathy has married another man, for really terrible reasons, has become sick with all the grief she’s caused herself and by Heathcliff’s disappearance and reappearance in her life, and now she’s on her deathbed, with Heathcliff come to visit her:

'You teach me now how cruel you've been—cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you—they'll damn you. You loved me—then what right you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you—oh, God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?'

'Let me alone. Let me alone,' sobbed Catherine. 'If I’ve done wrong, I'm dying for it. It is enough! You left me too: but I won't upbraid you! I forgive you. Forgive me!'

'It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,' he answered. 'Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?' 

Do I need to explain why I love this part or can I just stew in a feeling of “*ooof* that’s emotive”? I have a thing about being as honest and accurate about stuff as I can, I’ve found it’s the only way to speak to guys without things “getting complicated”, and my friends get a kick out of my “bluntness” from time to time. So here we have a man telling his girl exactly how he feels about her, with no reservations, and he kicks her butt a little. Bitches be crazy, and I know I’m better for having someone tell me when I’m being out of line from time to time. At this point in the book, I have fallen in love with Heathcliff. Minus the twisted parenting skills.

I’ll finish with responding to the argument of “How can you like any of the characters in this book?! They’re all evil!”  “-ARE NOT!” Look, look right here ok? Cathy has died and Heathcliff is spiralling into some intense mourning period here: 

'May she wake in torment!' he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. 'Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there—not in heaven—not perished—where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer—I repeat it till my tongue stiffens—Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!'

Ok, he’s coming off a little harsh by wishing her anything but restful peace, but look underneath that. He is so afraid of a life without Cathy in it in any way, he is on his knees pleading that her spirit finds a way to wait for him on earth until he too passes, then they might both be reunited and move on together. I like the little glimpses of his vulnerability you see from time to time, I don’t need a guy being a total wimp all the time (I am viciously irked by men who need to man up), but this is an acceptable occasion.  The love of his life just died after all. 

Phew, that was a long post. Maybe not a very good one, but maybe someone is now a little curious to read Wuthering Heights? Someone other than myself. I’ll be re-reading my little dog eared version if I ever finish my work. 

Yaay for non-typical romance!!

Elisa's Birthday Cake.

My battered copy of WH, broken spine, notes within, some would have a fit.