Think..Think..Think

Winnie the Pooh's thinking spot- source unknown

Hey everyone!
This blog has been left abandoned for far too long- blame it on my incompetencies trying to navigate the murky water of temporary accounts-organisational accounts-personal accounts and my huuuge list of emails. BUT FINALLY I'M IN!

One of the troubles I had with this blog before I got locked out, was yes, from time to time I had something pretty good to write about, a good photo to share with the world etc, but as my workload steadily increased and  the horizon filled itself with job applications, I just didn't have the time to be inspired by anything, let alone write about it.

Now, as things are coming into perspective, I finally found something I could be really passionate about, and if there's anybody out there in the big world of blogging who could help me, I would be eternally indebted to you.
I love cooking. I love fashion. I love all manner of fancy, girly, pampering products. --> But unfortunately my tastes lie slightly outside of a student's budget. Therefore, I'm going to blog about life's more affordable luxuries; Things you can make, use in more than one way, mend or just buy for a little bit less if you do a little snooping around.

If there are any start-up companies out there with new cosmetics or food products, folsky sounding bands trying to break into the industry- please! Get in touch! I'll happily be a guinea pig for these new things, and write up something to put on my new blog in the hopes we can make the lives of students everywhere just a little more exciting than beans on toast for dinner. Again.

Comment below to get my attention!

For anyone interested in this new blog, follow the link! http://afinedinnercoat.blogspot.com/

OH MY WORD

In case anyone was concerned about my absence: all due to gmail and my uni email addresses conflicting and barring me from getting into anything ANYWHERE. So relieved to finally be back!

O humdum soniyo re

I am recovering from what must have been the most hectic weekend I have ever had. On top of all the work and essays and intensive dance practices, we finally performed at the asian society's fashion show: "Sitara *" and our own dance show "Around the World Of Dance". Pictures to follow, and many thanks to the people who took such amazing photos- how I wish I could shoot anything that well. *Sigh*


So this post revolves around some of the lovely words and pieces of writing I've stumbled across over the last week or so which have sounded lovely or stirred some sort of reaction in me, enjoy!


1. "O humdum soniyo re, O jhaniyaa soniyo re...Say my name, if no one is around you say baby I love you if you ain't running games"
At the fashion show there was this brilliant, and I mean BRILLIANT, acoustic act, 2 girls mashed up "O Humdum" and "Say my name" backed up with a guitar. It sounded so amazing, nearly had me in tears during a rehearsal!
"O Humdum" is a song coming from a Bollywood film (? I think), and is sung in Hindi. From a very brief tutorial in Hindi, the following lines have a beautiful translation;
"Humdum" isn't a word that can be directly translated, and captures a lot of ideas at the same time. Firstly, it's a way of saying "lover/friend/soulmate" but also means there's a playfulness between you, so there's a heavy "friendship" in there. It also encapsulates the idea that two people are so close, in many ways, to the extent that even their breathing aligns. (Humdum is now my favourite word in the entire world, and I desperately want to learn Hindi, it's such a poetic language by the sounds of it. I'll also know the man I want to marry is somebody I can call my humdum).
"Jhaniyaa" is another way of saying "lover" or "darling", not as difficult to grasp as humdum. So these lines are the singer calling for his loved one to listen to him, asking her/him to listen.


 We should know what Destiny's Child "Say My Name" is about, a woman is suspicious of her man and accuses him of cheating, and blasts his behaviour by way of song. Originally it's quite a sassy and aggressive song to some extent, but when the tempo has been slowed right down, and the song has been mixed in with "O Humdum", the girl singing managed to turn it into the saddest love ballad I think I've heard. We now have a singer pleading with their lover to deny there's been any infidelity and just to make things ok, and there was just so much affection in it all I had goosebumps.  I was just floored by the line "if no one is around you say baby I love you". I know in the original context she means if physically there no one on the end of this phone then tell me you love me, but for some reason I jumped to memories of times when I just wanted someone to say it, when it was the only thing I wanted to hear regardless of why. Mmmm shivers.


2. “Most people don’t marry the loves of their lives. You marry for compatibility; for friendship. And Jane, there’s a lot to be said for that. It may not be a kind of relationship where you can read each other’s minds, but it’s comfortable, like a familiar spot on your favorite chair. That’s just another kind of love, one that doesn’t burn itself out, one that lasts in the real world.”
-Songs of The Humpback Whales, Jodi Picoult.

I've read and re-read this several times, and I still don't know what to make of it. 


3. "One day she'll start sending mixed signals, and you'll get mad because she learned how to play your game." 
You know me, I like it when a lady outwits the guy who likes to be one step ahead.  This year I've been taking mother's advice and outright ignoring someone who's been making digs and getting all passive aggressive up in my grill- I sometimes enjoy little moments of silent satisfaction, but overall  I'm getting antsy with not having retaliated after so long. My natural urge has always been to strike back as soon as someone tries to wind me up, I have to have the last word in a fight and so on, so suppressing that urge has been a big challenge. C'moon patience!


Wanna see some pretty pictures now?

Both of these taken by the wonderful Gillian Gamble,
Go ahead and find her over here

And during this week's crazy weather yoyo between storms and sunshine- a double rainbow!
Preeetty

"There is more philosophy to be found at the bottom of a bottle of wine than in a library of books "

...From now on, assume that at the beginning of every post, there is an apology for tardiness and illiterate dribble. Cool.

The spring vacation is well under-way, I'm being (over)fed quite well indeed and what's more- I'm sleeping again! Let the Kingdom rejoice! After my last little post, I underwent an extensive googling of "the meaning of dreams, >bath tub, linen, windows, bed<" etc, and found in general my subconscious was telling me to get laid. And travel. Go figure. I poo-poo'd the most of it, I'm always very suspiscious of fortune-telling/introspection which seems to tell you whatever you want to hear- it's like cosmic brown-nosing. But it turned out that fleeing from a hive of tension and a little lover's tryst later, I felt all better!
What always helps with stress relief, better than sedate "Rest and Relaxation", is of course a real belly-aching fit of laughter, which I got a huge dosage of at the Desert Rose social evening a few weeks ago. With copious amounts of mojito and sangria, and a bolshy round of "Never have I ever.." we all found ourselves struggling to carry ourselves with any kind of grace- but you know what we did do? We figured out a helluva lot of "lost truths". This is no radical thing, after a certain amount of alcohol, people become really philosophical or politically charged and all of a sudden you realise that under your rule, the country- nay, the world- would run with unknown levels of efficiency and amicability. Let's review some of the "theories of life" that I can more or less remember.

1. The guy always pays for the first date.
This was a complete revelation to me. I've always taken pride on "going dutch" when the bill arrives at the end of the first date, theres a little shuffle of "oh no, that's fine, let's just split the bill" meaning I'm always paying for whatever I ordered, or if he got the more expensive dish, then yes I'm paying a little of his way too- BUT apparently, that little shuffle is supposed to end with him puffing up his chest, and insisting that the treat was on him. My first reaction? " For 21 years, I've been jipped!" which lead to me then wallowing in my terrible taste for cheap-skate men and a little rendition of TLC's "No Scrubs".
 Ladies of the blogosphere, if you too, like I, have been asserting your quasi-feminist independence, arretez-vous immediately. As I understand it, if a guy asks you out on a date, as recompense for the time you lost which you would have otherwise had to yourself to carry out a home styled mani-pedi or to sit in huge pants watching some sitcom marathon, that man will PAY YOUR WAY. This isn't him paying for your time like some sort of escort, but this is supposedly him meant to be peacocking "Look, if you stick with me, I can take care of you, and treat you, treat you like a princess of Buy-one-get-one-free-burger Land". And if he doesn't, he is either

1. Cheap and unchivalrous or

2. Cheap because he's seeing a million other girls at the same and can't afford to pay for you all and

2b. Unchivalrous because he's dating a million other girls or just

3. Not having good enough a time to think it was worth the hassle.

I had a load of other girls giving me the "oh you poor dear look" as I half-heartedly tried to convince them that there was something refreshing about paying your own way as a single lady, but c'mon- I didn't like being single and broke. So, take heed: dance around the bill as long as you have to, but no man worth his salt will let you pay. You fragile little dear you.

2. Men aren't as unromantic as you think.
On the contrary, we found our little group full of romance-killers and clutzes. From the ones who'd accidentally foiled proposal attempts, to those who'd just fluffed the magic of a first kiss- as examples of women-kind, we warmly accept the label of "Romantic Hazard".

Yes, men may not fully appreciate the "simplest" gestures of romance, like a bunch of flowers or trying to win a stuffed animal at the fairground (Addendum to the above theory of life: him paying for you is not romance, it's just common courtesy apparently, no more astounding than blinking or breathing, and therefore should not be recognised, lest it becomes a "grand gesture") but I'm thinking their idea of romance is a lot more like an onion. It has many complex layers and is a lot less aesthetically pleasing. And Alex, cher, you don't need to go thinking you're unromantic, you're plenty good in my opinion, so you just sit tight mmkay? *Cheek pinch*

It appears from my fuzzy-headed sources, that men express their romance in 5 year plans, mentally working out how to incorporate you into his family life, when you should be joining the housing market, weighing the pros and cons of cash ISAs and bonds to reinvest money to pay off debts, investigating what kind of surround sound system you could feasibly install as to not piss off your neighbours and yet not compromising on the movie-watching experience the two of you will have on your ROMANTIC nights in. It's very convoluted and clever, I was quietly impressed at some of the things I'd heard men getting up to to look after their darlings, like booking dinner for nights when she was too tired to cook, because it seemed like a good way to unwind. Good way to throw away a good dinner reservation too. Ooops!


3. Just 'cos we like tripartite lists.
This isn't so much of a theory, as it is an unresolved mystery. We still can't figure out if endowment is related to height. There does indeed seem to be a good mix of results, and err, as long as "it's not size that counts, it's what you DO with it!" we are more than happy to go about our business in a care-free and jovial manner. We then used many food related analogies, e.g. "I'd rather have a very satisfying main meal than a drawn out 3 course affair of tiny portions, or you'd never be quite sure how much you actually had!" and then things got very drunk and hazy, and before we knew it we were singing..something.. on our way to...somewhere.

Darn those cocktails.

aaaaand adding to my good mood: I FINALLY GOT A NEW PHONE! I was squealing like a pig in mud when it was delivered this morning, I've had more than enough grief from my crapberry, and it has since been resigned to position as Luke's teether. Unless his sister can make it behave, in which case she can have it to bbm her classmates during first period maths.

Isn't he getting big now?

He's learned to pull this face when people are laughing,
it only makes us laugh harder and
smushhislittlechubbycheeksinyoucutie!!

He's so much more fun to watch than the TV. And bless you iphone for these unpixelated snapshots of such lovely moments. You lovely phone.

If I had to chose her or the sun, I'd be one nocturnal son-of-a-gun

 Listening to: Angus & Julia Stone- For You.

This post is long over-due, but in all honesty asides from insane levels of stress, I've had nothing to write about. (Unless you don't mind hearing me get over-excited about meeting and greeting royalty).

I've had a lot of difficulty sleeping lately, if I'm not staying up all night not being able to get to sleep, then I'm waking up from dreams that are making it hard to stay asleep. I'm not talking about night-terrors, but just really uncomfortable dreams that I can't stand to be in anymore and I do my best to wake myself up. Last night's dream is still fairly vivid, I remember being in an almost derelict style/colonial mansions type thing, in a living room with exposed wooden floorboards, dark wood fireplace, and big bay windows; There's a lot of sunshine, but it's coming through masses of bedding that have been hung across the room- it looks like white sheets are covering furniture that's been left behind in a house-move. There's a guy sitting naked in a bathtub infront of the window, and he has two girls next to him in the tub, and they're mocking me, splashing me with tub water while I'm lying alone and in a bed trying to sleep through the morning. Then at this point I was half-waking up in real-life, but still dreaming at the same time, and as I rolled over in reality and my dream, I found this guy had climbed into bed with me, and was stroking my hair to get me to go back to sleep, acting like my boyfriend, but very defnitely not him. I curled into him, and things fast-forwarded through scenes of us playing chase through the hung-up laundry, dining with parents and then sharing a bath- but out of loathing to have fun with this guy, I woke myself up. I was in such a bad mood with myself this morning. 

I highly resented my inability to pass one night of decent sleep: getting to sleep easily, not having a nightmare, and then not being woken up by the sunlight streaming through my curtains in the morning (I've taken to wearing an eye-mask for this reason). And now I resent my subconscious for plaguing me with insufferable dreams. The traitor. I need to do a little dream translation to make sure everybody keeps up I think.
- For the last week or so, this guy has been appearing in my dreams in some way or another, at first he was just faceless, and then adopted different faces of the people I know, and now whenever I look directly at him in my dreams, he changes his look so I can never actually yell at him and tell him to leave me be. He used to just follow me in my dreams, watching me as I walked about, but it seems as though the more time passes, the closer he gets, the more contact he makes, and last night's dream was the most we'd as much "spoken" and touched. Then last night, he'd actively (as in literally ) pushed out someone I was dreaming about, and replaced them to be able to taunt me about trying to avoid him and then tried to put the moves on me, and told me he's been falling in love with me- another reason why I was annoyed, I hate the idea of being any guy's "floozy"- I don't get on with men who need more than two hands to count romantic conquests on before turning their attentions on me. Makes you feel like you need a shower after just a look. And this guy had two bimbo's sitting in a bathtub with him!
It feels like I have some dream-dwelling stalker/bully, every time I see him I feel angry or annoyed, and he'll be interfering with the other people in my dream or trying to get me to cheat on my "boyfriend" (a few nights ago he tried to seduce me in a boat/secret den style room).

I think I'll have to amazon some dream interpretations book, and find a way to be rid of him, at this level of exhaustion, I need to sleep or I will plain keel over and die.

I know this is all very melodramatic, but I am so very very tired.

I bought myself some flowers to cheer myself up the other day,
and it worked, they looked so unbearably pretty

Starstruck! The Royal Couple

I shook hands with the Royal Couple today! I have to say, they seem so tender with each other, it made a brief handshake really worth a cold, cramped wait worth it!

Look how close I got! He was really sweet with the
2 yr old girl next to me who was super excited
to see a "real-life Princess" Adorable!!

I have yet to see her in an outfit I didn't like-
I'm guessing one of the perks of royal living is an outstanding wardrobe

The butterfly, the ostrich, the monkey and the snob.

Odd title for a post right? But it DID catch your attention. Today, I'm looking at the animal farm (literary reference!) of people you probably don't want to know.  I start complaining, get a little ranty, but to redeem myself, pretty pictures and smiley faces for the awesome weekend I had :D

By human nature, we are always quick to forgive, or more readily, forget "the bad"- be it bad memories, bad feelings or the bad in people. But then why do some people so readily lump the bad and the good, and cast aside entire entities? You break-up with a boyfriend, and all the "I love you"'s instantly transform to "I hate you"'s or "don't-give-a-damn"s and all the good memories you made are tarnished by this thick and heavy haze, and you find yourself cringing at ever feeling the warm-fuzzies at that time. Even speaking non-romantically, when you fall out with a friend you tend to get hung-up on all the terrible, awful things they did that caused the fall-out and all the lunch-break gossip sessions, laughter-induced belly aches and storm weathering become a distant memory. And even then we don't need a huge conflict like that to bring about a shift of your perspective, sometimes people evolve and progressively become more disagreeable- monkey to man/ man to monkey, whichever you think is worst (the latter for me, I frickin' hate monkeys, chimps and apes). I stumbled upon this this week, and it got me thinking...

...once we find ourselves in a good place, it's just too easy to forget the tough little road we had to get through to get there. I had a really shitty couple of weeks a little while ago (hadn't you noticed?), I felt like I was under a barrage of misfortune and fuck-ups, and it really felt never ending; every day I was pleading for a little respite, for one GOOD day, or even a day in which absolutely nothing happened, good or bad. At the time it felt like I was far from any kind of "break", but when things did eventually calm down and I got a chance to get away from it a bit, I find that partly out of relief, and out of a desire to push away from any and all sources of fuck-uppery I was falling out of touch with someone I really should've kept close to. I'm paying penance now though, bridges are being rebuilt and hopefully things will return to normality and a hunkydory state soon. I digress.

The proverb actually had me thinking about those who deliberately deny any kind of struggle to get to where they were. Those who when graced with a hand of good fortune, adopt a "holier than thou" attitude towards the pitiful underlings they may have passed by at some point, or hide their head in the sand when something ugly involves them. If I could host a dinner party right now, I would bake the largest Humble Pie the world has ever seen, and cut some very larges slices to serve to these certain people. Even if they had to be force-fed. I even took the time to draw out some etiquette guidelines for said dinner party, which I'd have to insist that guests were well-versed in before attending.

I don't want you to look down on me from your pedestal and feel sorry for me because I am "less fortunate". I do not envy your position whatsoever, and hand-on-heart promise that my side of the grass is plenty green for me. Do I look unhappy? No. Really, no.

I don't want you to waltz around and try to give me any little pearls of wisdom you have recently acquired since you revelation. I personally think you are working with a horrendously faulty logic, and as far as I can see, the way I'm doing things is working out very nicely for me.

I don't want you pulling a look of disgust if you disagree with something about me/about what I'm doing. Once upon a time, you were very happily in the same boat as I, and I'm not too convinced you've changed so profoundly that you wouldn't secretly enjoy cavorting with us plebs once again.

I do ask that you don't try to force on me any of the goods you are trying to peddle. If I were looking for a new idealogy, I'd go find it for myself, or if I wanted a new and conflicting opinion on X/Y/Z I'd do my own research. Don't "do me a favour" and tell me what I'll end up thinking is what you're already thinking. Shortcuts are for cheats. Or for achieving optimum efficiency when navigating through your current OS on PC or Mac.

I do ask that you realise that when you did go through hardships, you didn't go through them alone. But you did then leave others to weather hardships on their own. Or when others kept silent about your faults and flaws, you never paid the same courtesy. They say don't bite the hand that feeds, but maybe these hands won't feed the mouth that bites anymore.

To cut a looong rant short, I think there's a lot of importance in the idea of not forgetting nor forsaking your humble roots, which my parents bellowed when I turned my nose up at the idea of visiting slums in Vietnam on a family holiday. But with a little bad-ass story telling from mum, not only did I learn that she is IN FACT made of tougher stuff than your average (actual war stories here), but my mixed heritage is something to boast about (half of it kicked American butt at some point, right?).

-Moral story telling over-

I had an aaah-mazing weekend this weekend past, with out-of-bubble visitors coming in for a birthday weekend, which lead to ultimate milkshakes, brownies, beach walks and belly-aching humour. During a grey saturday afternoon we attempted to venture out for a sunny beach walk- thoroughly thwarted by persistant clouds, but eventually we had a window of 30minute sunshine, yielding these glorious snaps:

Loverly. 

I may even venture out of these books tomorrow to go and snap a few shots of the Royal Couple tomorrow, they're conveniently in town for the University's 600 birthday. But only if the weather's fine, I don't fancy being trampled and rained on for a sneak peak of anybody.

"I'm late! I'm late!" said the white rabbit..

And I am so sorry, but I genuinely had no idea or inspiration as to what to write about this week. I guess I've used up all my words on intern applications that I didn't have any left for me!

As I write this, I'm watching "The Notebook" (only 8mins in and I'm crying already, what a baby)- and something has occurred to me: you really can't guess what's about to come your way. Key things I've been musing on this week:
1. A year ago, if I'd been sitting on a chair and trying to look into the future, I never would have seen myself doing the things I'm doing now, or all the turns my friendships and settings would take. And I don't think that with this realisation that I could sit in a chair now and fathom what's going to hit me in the next year.
I mean, I could maybe guess the general direction of things: I'll be heading towards graduating, I'll be looking for graduate jobs in some stir-mad frenzy, my hair might be a little longer... but what if I'm not friends with the friends I have now? Could I be in love with someone else? What will my family look like? Thinking about this, I realised how heavily chance can change things, not to sound too defeatist or dreamy- but I felt like a tiny pebble at the bottom of the sea, pushed along by a huge wave and then resting in my spot until something else sweeps me up. 

2. Chance is such an infuriating thing, you think you have everything figured out  until something happens that completely changes the rules of the game. Like when you're a kid, you have your first love/crush and as you sit there sharing your raisins and swapping lunchboxes, you're sure they are the most perfect thing in the world and that's the one you're going to marry and spend the rest of your life with. Then you break up and wonder how stark-raving mad you were to think like that. The next love comes along, and ever wiser you are sure that this time you've gotten it right, and there's no way in heck you could not this person. That relationship goes to pot, but you have no time to mourn a loss cos you've just been to dinner with the One. Even though in technicality it's more like the Latest. You can look back and be sure of all the ways you were wrong, but it's so much harder to look forward and be sure you're right. 

When Noah meets Allie, she's really really itching to get away from him, and swoons over a guy with a seriously dodgy 'tasche (facial hair beyond a fetching designer stubble=huge risk. Not that I'm hinting or anything...) and here I am, sitting on my couch sniggering "haha, you're gonna fall in love with hiiiim!". She doesn't know that. What I would give for a chat with my future-self right now. I'm dying to know where I'm living, how I'm looking, who stood opposite me at the alter, or whether I've gone all rebellious and ditched the idea of marriage. And I'd also probably ask her where I put my mother's handbag that she wants back...nobody tell mother...

All those people you walk past on the street, the cancelled holiday plans, the cinema showings you ditch in favour of Orange Wednesdays and early-bird savers- what if you just slip past someone, not necessarily the destined "One", who could've swept your life in another direction?

...Parallel dimensions HAVE to exist...

At long last, I've managed to squeeze some photographic competency out of these hands, enjoy some shots from my very cosy Falentine's day (no, that's not a typo, its my way of marking fake-Valentine's).

Le Petit Prince

Currently listening to: Song to the Siren (Paula Arundell)

Currently pondering: Please, please, please, let me get what I want this time

It is something past 1a.m. and I have been watching very short clips of a video I haven't seen since I was...well, I dunno, "knee high to a grass hopper": The Adventures of the Little Prince. Urrbody throw your hands up if you know what I'm talking about (sorry...I've been listening to a lot of Usher and Ludacris today, but please note the heavy irony).

Ta-daaaa! Anyone? No?

I was a fairly fickle child, and whilst I enjoyed the adventures he had (finding out what made Mitzi mean, bringing the flowers back to the valley, asking Sean to play it again etc) I would always rewind and watch the first few minutes over and over again before going onto the rest of it because 1. He flew wild geese and captured comets to travel around space and 2. Because you'd catch a brief glimpse of his Rose Girl.

So preetty..I loved how her hair looked like petals. Couldn't get over it. Astounding. For aaages I wanted to be the rose girl, but err, she was the only regular female character and until I made it into my "Tomboy" phase, I rejected all male roles.

I then decided tonight to do a little study on the Little Prince, and apparently- it's a lot deeper than childish whimsy I'll have you know! So different is the concept of the book from the re-telling of the video, I'm now hell bent on reading the thing to see for myself at the risk of shattering my childhood illusions. Well, too late for that really, I just found out the Rose Girl is a complete and utter cow.

 Admittedly, I didn't own the full video set, just a few episodes from the later series (yeah this thing had a series timeline- who knew?!) and unless you see the first few episodes apparently you miss out on the majority of the Rose's horridness. 

Basically, the Rose Girl lands on asteroid B-612 as a seed carried by a really strong wind, and the Prince plants her, nurtures her and builds a little rock garden around her to keep away mischievous caterpillars and butterflies. When she blooms though, Rose is really stuck-up, scornful, mocking and vain- really vain- demanding that the Prince dotes on her all the time. When he decides he wants to go travelling for a while though, she gets even more annoying and whiney, guilt-tripping him into staying, and then threatens to rips herself out of the ground if he leaves but spikes him with a thorn when he tries to calm her down. (Told you she's a cow). Having had enough of her guff, the Prince leaves anyway, and as he hooks himself onto a passing-by shooting star, then she's sorry, and really worries that she's put him off ever coming home again. Then some episodes happen in-between, but from then on, the Rose Girl is a lot nicer to him when he is around and is a general delight to have living with you on a tiny asteroid.

The Prince loves the Rose Girl to bits, in the episodes I remember, towards the end of his trips he's always anxious to get back to her to take care of her and tell her his stories, because he knows she hates being alone for too long. I just did a little sparknoting on the characters of the book, and came across this:

 "Although the rose is, for the most part, vain and naïve, the prince still loves her deeply because of the time he has spent watering and caring for her."

...Am I the only one who finds that really sad? That it seems like he's only with her just because he's spent that much effort on her, it'd be a waste to let it all go? I preferred to think that he came to love her because he could see her softer side and loved her in spite of her flaws- aha! and he even says it himself!

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;what is essential is invisible to the eye"

Men who are willing to be patient with a girl throwing a supreme strop and take care of her when she really needs to be taken to the glue factory are worth their weight in gold.

 
There. Take that spark notes. Oh wait, I think I've just obliged myself to give the Rose Girl a second chance...

But I certainly don't want to be her anymore, nobody wears "high-maintenance" well.

Back-off universe, I'm already pissed off.

Currently Listening To: the bass line rippling through Alex's floor from two levels down.
Pondering: Need coffee, and a walk. Feel like a spaniel.

This week:
1. Witnessed a mid-life crisis.
2. Found out the mid-life crisis "doesn't really like you anymore since you yelled at him".
3. Witnessed the dissolution of my parent's marriage part II.
4. Worry that with no models of a fully-functioning marriage at hand, my own will surely fail.
5. Took the brunt of an unnecessary police call-out I didn't even make.
6. Took on more shit other people were off-loading on me
7. Decided there were too many people in my life.
8. Walls went up.
9. Watched "Black Swan".
10. Had a really beautiful dream about being 8 again. Woke up. Found my boyfriend had brought me peanut-butter toast and was singing the Beach Boys "Wouldn't It Be Nice", found myself in bliss. Minus chronic back-pain.

-And we're about to create number 11 if Mister ever gets out of the shower: Go for a sunny, feel-good walk and a coffee. Then go to the pharmacy for codeine and antiseptic because I've been scratching myself during the night and am covered in angry bloody patches. Yummy.

SO! It's been a hectic week! Most of it spent cleaning up the mess other people leave behind and then just standing by in disbelief while other people then come in and make more of a mess for me to deal with. These people have officially been deemed "knobs" and will be making a significantly reduced appearance in my life from now on. It's the curtain call for you chappies.

And in my usual style, we breeze over that, move on, and find something nicer to talk about: My new blog and "Black Swan".

-New Blog! It's not a huge thing, nor a replacement for this one, but now that I've joined Tumblr (find me here) I have somewhere to post trinkets and doo-dahs that I stumble upon on a somewhat daily basis. I'll be aiming to keep on with the huge weekly blogs on here still (ambitious? I know, but let's see how things pan out). Expect pretty pictures, brief sentences and the like.

-Black Swan.
Drop whatever you are doing right this minute and get yourself to the nearest cineplex and see it. Even if you go on your own (you might want to abandon any pre-existing fears about going out/dining on your own first though. C'mon, they're unfounded and irrational). 

I wish I could give you a definite "this is what it's about" thing, but when I saw it with the Beau and his friend, we all came out with completely different interpretations of what had happened- but we all agreed that it was beyond awesome and definitely warrants a second viewing (Orange Wednesdays anyone?). I picked out lots of tones of perfectionism taken to extreme self-sabotage, and the boys saw a family history of inherited neuroticism (doesn't this sound like a light-hearted flm?) But no, really, it's visually outstanding; two stunningly beautiful female leads, gorgeous wardrobe and set design, and the choreography is just such a flirt! <insert camp hand gesture here>
Regardez-vous the beauty:

Unfortunately couldn't find any stills of Mila Kunis :( but she might have been my favourite. She had a little sass about her, and I like girls with sass. I've said it before, but if my life were made into a film, I'd cast her as me. Hell, I want to be her.

Lily "Wait, did you have some sort of lezzie wet dream about me?"
Nina: [whispers] "Stop it."

Lily: "Oh my God? Oh my God! You did! You fantasized about me!"

Nina: "Shut up!"

Lily: [gasps] "Was I good?"

And with that comic relief, I am out to buy caffeine and non-prescription goods.

It's not like my usual photography can compete with those glorious movie stills right?

Curveball.

Listening to: Soon This Space Will Be Too Small (Lhasa De Sela)

Pondering: 18months now seems too long to wait to be the next Holly Golightly.

When I was very young, in a short space of time, both of my grandmothers died, I found out my sisters were in actual fact half sisters, and I had siblings I'd never even known about. And Santa wasn't real. It was on heck of a rough time. In times like these, Dad would say "Don't worry, you'll be ok, God never gives us more than he thinks we can handle".

When I was a little less younger, I was convinced that I couldn't be too happy, or I'd draw attention to myself and karmic forces would ensure somthing really bad happened to balance it all out. Mum said, "Just be a good person, and good things will happen for you. What goes around comes around."

As I left my teens I decided to live by "expect the unexpected" (i.e. plan for any and every eventuality) and "go with the flow" if the unexpected unexpected ever came up, and this was my guaranteed plan for how to "stay on the ball".

But when "bad things come in threes" and you have to persuade yourself that "whatever doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger" until those "good things waiting around the corner" come around the corner- doesn't it seem like sometimes the Big Guy upstairs is really trying to run you into the ground? 

As Pat Benatar sang, "come on and hit me with your best shot"

 

2 Sides of the same coin- both taken in the same place,
on the same day- now you just can't see the beach for the storm

Tonight I Can Write...

Currently Listening To: If  You Had My Love (Jennifer Lopez, before she became J-Lo) // No Scrubs (TLC)

Currently Pondering: *Head nod* Those ladies had it right. And awesome outfits. IS THAT WELSH ON MY SPOTIFY??

Another long one folks! And a bit odd. I'm having an odd week, and I'm not quite sure what to think of it myself. But we have Neruda, and his poetry is awesome, so there's a plus at the very least.

Strange things are happening in the world lately...there's either something in the air or water, or perhaps there's a full moon (there isn't. And even if there was apparently lunar madness is a myth) but either way, something curious is happening. Odd things are happening, people are acting odd- even I'm feeling a little nuts. I'm getting really antsy, feeling a little out of place everywhere I go, I'm over-analysing nearly EVERYTHING that's being said to me, and I'm pretty sure my bitchier/more wreckless alter ego is trying to bust her way through. She typically only comes out when I'm a combination of drunk and pissed off, and leads me down the path of vodka shots (I frickin' hate vodka shots), drunken texting and lewd behaviour. Only now she's not so much drunk, just, pissy and looking for someone to pick on. The bitch.

Anyway, "stuff" has triggered me to go for a walk down memory lane, taking a left-turn onto "Past-Relationships Drive" and here I am sitting at the doorstep of the "International House of Fuck-Ups". I'm thinking: men are really screwy. I attract weird things and events. I'm not trying to say my entire love-life and persons therein have been terrible, but there are definitely some points I'd rather forget, or time-travel back to and undo. What is it they say? It only takes one negative thing to cancel out FOUR positive things? That's horrible. Yuck.

In my weekly stumblings however, I found this little gem:

"The best part of being in love is when you just love a person, and be happy about it. Even if that person can never be yours, even if you know it can't last forever. That's the true essence of love. It's not about winning someone, it's not about owning a relationship. It's just about being happy because you know you've loved someone. It's about being happy because you know you've loved someone."

-Source: Allenstar

This is probably the most succinct way of summing up my thoughts during a break-up. And I didn't even come up with it. Rats. Asides from thinking "oh you complete knob. You are such a knob" during a break-up, I do honestly try to think of all the things I've learned/learned never to do again in future relationships (so far the list is pretty long). I think the most resilient teaching was "how to put your defences up and keep them there", a message hammered home by seeing women in my family being messed around and then personal experience from relationships C and E. Maybe a little bit of G too. But it was somewhere between D and G that I figured there's no point in letting the horrible memories corrupt all the good ones. And sometimes it's ok to put your guard down. Now I think I've gotten the hang of looking at the bad, leaving it there, and going on to enjoy the good memories as if I'm living them all over again. C'mon, good first dates are still good first dates, and a good first kiss is still a good first kiss. 

Let's look at the beautiful words of Pablo Neruda now, the man knows how to write a good heartache:

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

It's a killer to read if you're even the slightest bit not happy with some sort of relationship. Or breaking up with someone. Sorry for any anguish caused, I really should've put a foreword in there or something.

As I did with Wuthering Heights, I shall do here, I'm going to pick up on the really minute undertones, and proceed to love and adore them.
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too."      This makes me think "500 Days of Summer". Haven't seen it? Sort that out. It makes me think about the times when you look at the other person and just begin to wonder "I'm not so sure anymore.." Either you've begun to notice the flaws you didn't before or you're feeling the tremors of impending doom. *Spoiler Alert* In the movie, you re-watch scenes which the boy saw as normal, enjoyable dates, but it's only when you get the slightest hint that the girl is getting "cold feet" and the same scenes look so different. It's so sad, but I think I can slightly sympathise with "No, this doesn't feel right, I see trouble on the horizon" and the best thing to do is to break than continue proverbially flogging the dead donkey. I was called a bitch (thanks, Alex) when I said I was happy the two of them ended up doing different things at the end of the movie. I'm sorry, but as lovely and Hollywood-friendly as it would've been, I appreciate just ONE love story where everything doesn't have to end up as planned- but is even better. My mother has always told me the problem with my exes is not the issues of "maturity" or "chronic dick-headedness" but its that we couldn't *handle* each other. Her theory is that you don't just move around each other, but you move each other. Like a Tango. Or a stream, flowing around and over big rocks, but picking up shells and sand. How calming, mother. She maintains that I should only marry a Chinese zodiac that can "tame a snake". Dig that innuendo. For clarity, I was born in the year of the snake and Mum's really supersticious. And she thinks I can be a bit too "willful" (read: domineering cow) Agreed. Anyway, that's what I think was the problem with the above relationship. The two obviously got on, but after the honeymoon period, she must have felt like the chemistry was replaced with convenience, and with no "good reason" like a fight or infidelity to break-up over, the relationship was just kind of plodding on. Then she tells him she wanted to shoot him in the head. Hahaha.

"Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes."      My biggest relationship vice? I'm hugely jealous/ protective. But getting better at it, I've figured out how to just let things go, and now laugh when I would've sulked, pouted and gotten all irate. I have more fun when I'm not wasting time being annoyed and not changing anything. Sounds like this woman had really beautiful eyes though doesn't it? He keeps mentioning them...

I know that this poem conveys a huge sense of him having a really tough time getting over a past love, but I do see just the tiniest glimmer of hope in the last lines: "...my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her./ Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer / and these the last verses that I write for her."
Almost sounds like he's saying he's ready to just leave things alone now, leaving them in this poem, and moving on from it. Closure. I like it. But then you might read something completely differently from all that. I'll just err on the side of optimism.

Damn I love Neruda.

So there you have it. This is what happens when the planets align just right, and I start thinking "Girls are from Venus, men are from...where the hell are you coming from!?"

For anyone feeling cynical about love,
be assured you could buy it with change from a fiver

Poor tumour-bear! I still don't have the heart to eat him,
he looks sad enough without knowing the end is nigh..

I'll be back to normal next week. I might even have a sparkly new phone to show off! Happy face.

Gone fishin'

I have an exam tomorrow, so no lengthy/particularly inspiring blog post today, sorry! But I will spend 5-10mins rounding up all the things that have been distracting me and keeping me entertained, enjoy!

1. Easy A: recently watched it, and really enjoyed it! Awesome film, if you're ever in need of an easy-to-watch, coming-of-age flick, I highly recommend this one. Youtube yourself the scene where Emma Stone is singing along to "Pocketful of Sunshine. That's how I'm feeling right now.

2. www.tattoologist.com : I've been hankering after a tattoo for ages, but being the person I am, I can't settle on an idea for long enough to get it inked on. In the mean time, this site has a really good collection of tats, and makes for really good browsing. If you're into that kind of thing. 

3. Polaroids: Why haven't Polaroid followed through on their press release stating that they'd be systematically bringing back old films?! I got a one600 camera years ago, for the bargain price of £29/£49 (I can't remember how much, I've had several polaroid cameras over the years, including the I-zone, a barbie one and now this one. It's hard to keep track of cost) and now apparently my little classic is worth £100+! Cool! Nothing makes you feel older than watching a belonging increase in value over the years. Anyway, I'm not planning on selling, I just want to be able to USE it. Head over to The Impossible Project if you want some remade film, or just to look in despair when you realise it's already sold out. Sad clown.

4. Mad hands

5. You know I said ages ago I lurve "Home- Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros"? Yeh, guitar-accompany, Daddy-and-Me rendition! Regardez-vous here

6. You like "True Blood"? You'll love this. Errbody loves the D-o- double g

That's your lot for now. I'll be posting something more interesting in a future blog post, there's crazy amounts of drama providing material for "things I need to blog about" list. Oh that reminds me, if you haven't already, youtube the "Gap Yah" video. Gogogo!

I think it's pretty obvious, but I didn't take
this shot.  The other two are mine though.

And the daddy-long-legs becomes less gross, more inneresting

Whipping Up a Storm

Currently listening to:  Gonna Get Along Without You Now/ Thieves (She & Him)
Currently pondering: I don't want to give up home cooking for revision...

Last week I said that the diet would start, and over-consumption and mid-week drinking would be banned. But I know now that was never meant to happen, universal signs have shown me that that is not the way; 'Tis not the season to be fretting about Christmas weight. Next week, back at Uni, back to bellydance, and I'll get my butt in gear. Yus. In the spirit of not worrying about caloric castigation, I've been revelling in the freedom of a well-stocked kitchen and the shiny newness of my Christmas goodies! I got A LOT of baking-related gifts, retro measuring cup, colourful silicone cases, cook books- the works. And in a happy twist of fate, the boy also got a lot of groovy cooking related gifts! It only made sense that we spent a couple of evenings cooking and playing house (I love playing house, I loved play-pretend as a child and I still do now). I also love seemingly unnecessary kitchen gadgets, like a simultaneous apple corer AND slicer. Apples taste so much tastier when cored and cut into slices. True. Story.

The recipes we tried were SO good, that not only did they make my skirt fly up (I've been waiting to say that for ages) but I'd also recommend them to others. Do it. Find new depths of happiness with relatively little fat-laden guilt. 

First things first however: excuse the shoddy photography, it's hard to cook and photograph with only one  pair of hands. My second pair was preoccupied with Assassin's Creed. Men. Pssshh.

1. Chicken Mojo (Levi Roots: "Food for Friends")

Alex's recipe. He has an inclination towards spicy and slightly exotic food, so this present should encourage him to be more adventurous in the kitchen. Should. But men are men, ultimately this genetic subscript dictates that the easiest/quickest solution will be taken when the hunger pangs kick in.

 First plus point: Simple store cupboard

ingredients. The ginger beer isn't
needed though, that was for my own refreshment...

Before

Gift 2: Awesome Kenwood mixer/blender/chopper/blitzer. I don't ever want to fine chop vegetables ever again. Mr. Ken Wood is now chief veggie chopper, thank you.

2 Button presses later..

 Look. Look at how colourful and beautiful that looks. It
smelt even better.

Then came the difficult task of leaving it to marinade for 1-5 hours. We lasted 1hr 18mins. Pitiful, but you don't know how good this 

marinade smelled! You can't judge us!

Ready for roasting. Here's a tip, maybe an obvious one, but for those who like a crispy skin on your chicken, when roasting, place the meat skin side down, so when you turn it mid-way through cooking, the skin isn't covered by cooking juices which make it go all soggy. Maybe that's obvious, maybe it isn't, either way, gives you a crispy skin.

Serve with awesomely awesome vegetables and sourcream.

Review: Knee slappingly good food, and not too unhealthy right? Minimal cooking fat, sizeable protein portion, vit C from the orange juice and lime juice, chilli pepper boosts your metabolism and fat-busting abilities while you're eating, and then urr, you know, has an aphrodisiac quality to it too, for later..you know. Ye-ah.

This chicken was such a hit, Alex didn't even add Nando's sauce. Oh no. And I went on to look through the book and found an alcoholic watermelon recipe. I LOVE WATERMELON. I LOVE ALCOHOL. I have found my summer eats. And when I hve a summer barbecue housewarming, I'm making both the wings and the watermelon thing and everyone will love me forever.

2. Winey Mushrooms.

We needed some sort of veggie goodness for a side plate, but unfortunately couldn't find a simple-ish one in the book leaving us with no other option other than to "wing it". So what do you do with a pepper, red onion, and 2 large mushrooms? 

Slice 'em, fry 'em with butter, salt and pepper and then decide to throw in your glass of wine.

Realise that mushrooms are terrible alcoholics and your half glass of wine is not enough, and you should just go ahead and pour from the bottle. Classy. Wish you'd doubled the mushroom content. Forget about it. Finish the wine. Remember you're cooking. Save the pan before you burn through it.

Find sourcream. Throw it on the side of your plate and throw out your healthy eating resolutions. You won't regret it. Or at least not until you break into your second-stone weight gain.

-Break (We were I was too full and tired to bake further)-

3. Strawberry and Polenta cupcakes.
Elisa, staunch Italian-cooking-principles defender almost kicked me for saying you could bake with polenta. She nearly disowned me for adding marmite to my spaghetti. She was disgusted with me for eating ridiculous amounts of pancetta in a given 24hour period. Here, I show her the versatility of polenta.
(What is Polenta? Polenta is a very finely ground cornmeal used for cooking in a variety of dishes. Akin to extremely fine and less disgusting form of semolina.)

This is my recipe, from my wee little cupcake cookbook (courtesy of BBC GoodFood).

 From this heathen mess, came these little tasty beauties...

Damn I make a lot of mess when cooking

 Whilst K.Wood was an awesome veggie chopper, the mixing of sugar, flour and butter was less successful. Things quickly descended into a sugar-flying, butter-flinging pandemonium. Order was restored with the traditional "Metal Spoon and Elbow Grease" method.

 How I love my coat silicone baking cups of many colours, they were red and yellow and green and blue and purple and pink and fuschia and orange...

So perfect

 

And then they did that. WHY do cupcakes go lopsided!? Luckily the book portrayed them a little shabby-chic, otherwise, I would not have been happy. No siree bob. Anyway, ever onwards.

 I don't/can't cook without tasting. Momma usually tries to slap the back of my hand when I aim for the Sunday roast etc, but I've gotten so fast she can see but a blur when I've started picking. Cheetah's ain't got a thang on me.

Mmmmm. You're feeling hungry now aren't you? I bet you are. I even made peanut butter cups with the mini baking cups I had. But there was no chance photos were being taken while I made them/before I ate them. That and like an idiot I spilled a litre of water and it went EVERYWHAR. So instead of taking photos I was attempting to tidy, make sweeties and dry out my camera. Curse you round-bottom bowls. Curse you.

In further cursing, my blackberry now dictates when it goes on and off, regardless of battery status. 11days till I join the iPhone army.

Go, find a recipe, follow it, disregard it, come up with something highly satisfying or get a pizza. Go.

Love xx