Sing, oh January

A whole month has passed since my arrival back in the UK and look, not a single emotional breakdown. Everything’s coming up Millhouse! Much has happened, however. The January blues well and truly blanketed the city, but nonetheless there is plenty to keep you busy. And keeping busy is key.

Most of the month was dominated by talk of a work trip to Frankfurt – I originally wasn’t meant to go, having just (rather sheepishly) returned, but was invited along at the last minute. Well, really, it was just a trip to Frankfurt airport (oh Frankfurt airport, how do I loathe thee, let me count the ways…) but hey, day off work, it’s all cool. Unfortunately, I had a horrendous wine hangover the day we flew out and proceeded to sleep through most of the presentations (that bit is actually not so unfortunate, they were very long-winded), but the festivities that evening made up for the suffering. It was a really fun time, even though it took approximately a week to recover from the lack of sleep and, what I liked to call, Frankfurt Flu. That was also the week of the snow. People freaked out. I was insanely gleeful. I can’t help it.

I don’t think the novelty of it will ever really wear off for me. And hey, it sets the perfect scene when I walk to/from work, listening to Bon Iver, breath puffing in the air. It’s actually all sorts of lovely. Even if it is freezing. And slippery. I was contemplating taking bets for how long it would take me to fall over but it didn’t really stick around very long and I somehow managed to remain upright. Somehow.

The only other major event was Australia Day, where I was the token Aussie in a group consisting of a South African, New Zealander and Americans. At least having a Kiwi in attendance meant that there were two of us to enthusiastically hound DJs all night to play John Farnham’s ‘The Voice.’ Cause it’s Australia Day, mate. It ended up being a very lively evening, even if it did lead us to the Walkabout. Still, was lots of fun. I shouldn’t be allowed on dance floors.

With things being otherwise quite sedate, I spent most of my free time on Abbi’s couch, indulging in all sorts of bad television/film choices. The most horrendous of the lot would have to be This Means War and Footloose, which we sadly watched on the same day. How can we endure such horror in such concentrated doses? You can read Ab’s reviews here. And when I'm actually home, and my lovely flatmate is in, I've been discovering why Wil Wheaton insists there's no such thing as too many dice.

Oh! I finally, finally, finished A Dance With Dragons. This is why we can’t have nice things! !! !!! See, it took me so long to finish cause I had to keep stopping when I became too enraged to continue. And now I’m caught up and have to wait with the other people! This is outrageous! I want closure! And happy Starks. Can’t we have happy Starks? *weeps*

But I digress.

I started watching Breaking Bad (so uber stressful) and Community (really enjoy it, but struggling to get into the second season.) I feel like I watch too much stuff. I need to cut back. Write more. Still, I haven’t seen any of the films that came out this month cause I am too flat broke, boo. I’ve never been this desperate for pay day in my life. Only two more days! There may be hope yet.

 Music: January Hymn - The Decemberists

Places of power

'It's perfectly simple,' said Wednesday. 'In other countries, over the years, people recognized the places of power. Sometimes it would be a natural formation, sometimes, it would just be a place that was, somehow, special. They knew that something important was happening there, that there was some focusing point, some channel, some window to the Immanent. And so they would build temples, or cathedrals, or erect stone circles, or... well, you get the idea.'

'There are churches all across the States, though,' said Shadow.

'In every town. Sometimes on every block. And about as significant, in this context, as dentists' offices. No, in the USA, people still get the call, or some of them, and they feel themselves being called to from the transcendent void, and they respond to it by building a model out of beer bottles of somewhere they've never visited, or by erecting a gigantic bat-house in some part of the country that bats have traditionally declined to visit. Roadside attractions: people feel themselves being pulled to places where, in other parts of the world, they would recognize that part of themselves that is truly transcendent, and buy a hot dog and walk around, feeling satisfied on a level they cannot truly describe, and profoundly dissatisfied on a level beneath that.'

- American Gods, Neil Gaiman p129

I love this book so much. Big thanks to Lizzie for lending me her copy.

Music: Paralympic Swimming

Walls securely insulate my heart

I finished reading The Great Gatsby today and, surprisingly, did not hate it. I fully expected to, what with my dislike of pretty much all 'classics'. I suppose the fact that it was written this side of the 1900s helped. The characters are generally unlikeable, but it is just so beautifully written. Gorgeous imagery and lovely turns of phrase. Want.

Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something - an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere long ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable for ever. 

That's just... that's not even fair.

And then there's stuff like,

When we pulled out into the winter night and the real snow, our snow, began to stretch out beside us and twinkle against the windows, and the dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by, a sharp wild brace came suddenly into the air. We drew in deep breaths of it as we walked back from dinner through the cold vestibules, unutterably aware of our identity with this country for one strange hour, before we melted indistinguishably into it again.


Gah.

Although curiously, while reading it I kept imagining Tom Hiddleston's Fitzgerald sitting somewhere writing it (he was not, after all, the most humble of writers) and congratulating himself. And that reminds me of a quote from Midnight in Paris' Hemingway that's quite fitting in these situations -

If it's bad, I'll hate it. If it's good, then I'll be envious and hate it even more. You don't want the opinion of another writer.

Hemingway and Fitzgerald doing what writers do best - drinking wine.

Music: I am a heart a heart, Watson. The rest of me is mere appendix - Forgive Durden

We're going fast

Right, let's round this up, what have I been up to? Well, good question, cause I have absolutely no idea. Apparently not having a routine is good for your memory (very organised people with set habits supposedly don't need to remember things as much as people who have no idea what they're doing one day to the next) so I suppose that counts for something, right?

Made lasagne last night which was infinitely disappointing... it's just not as good as my mum's. Sad. My mum's lasagne is pretty much my favourite thing ever so I while I was eating mine, I just kept thinking how woefully subpar it was. But it was nice to eat something baked for a change. While I was slaving away trying to put this all together, I watched In The Loop and since I was at it, I followed it up with the first season of The Thick Of It. It's such a random show but oh, so many good insults.

I sort of want to start a list of movies I've watched, it's growing rather rapidly. Ah, what not having a television does to you. Thing is, I already can't remember what I've seen...I mean, yeah, I remember when I see their names but off the top of my head, it's not something I can really recall. But not the end of the world, as I see most of my films with Abbi and she already catalogues them in her excellent Film Friday write up (check it out if you get a chance, t'is always entertaining.) I do however know that we watched Attack The Block this week... and I thought it was very good. Well worth all the buzz it had. So yeah. There's one thing I did this week.

I got paid on Friday from ze old job, huzzah! Had a moment of panic when I thought they hadn't actually paid me but no, crisis averted. I have spent most of it already. Oops. But not all frivolously! Some has gone into my savings, and I also bought some groceries and my monthly train ticket. So you know. Responsibility. I have it. Sort of. Sometimes.

Anyway. Definitely didn't have responsibility Thursday evening when I was up until 3am writing a travel article that I've known about for oh, three months? Longer? Fail. Epic fail. And then I accidentally switched off my alarm Friday morning instead of snoozing it, meaning I woke up at 8.30. Eek. Miraculously somehow made it to work on time. I have no idea how that works. Sometimes I catch a train 10 minutes later than normal and arrive at practically the same time. What witchcraft is this? I held up pretty well too, wasn't too useless at work and went for drinks afterwards, so yeah. Not bad.

I just remembered what else I did this week - book club! Thursday in the St James's Park, so lovely. As I mentioned before, we read 50 Shades of Oh God Someone Edit This Please and A Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes. It's such a good discussion group with everyone really getting into talking about the books, so that's lovely. I've ordered my next lot of books, can't wait for them to arrive. I'm so thrilled to be reading again. It feels like it's been ages for some reason. Yay!

OH! I almost forgot what was arguably the most exciting part of the week! We got free money! I know, I know, sounds insane, but it happened. A promotional team had set up shop near work and after pandering along to their marketing scheme, you'd get a code that generated a random sum of money between £3 to £100 for you. I got £20, absolutely thrilled. I love working in the West End, there's so much happening and you're always getting free stuff. Sure the crowds of tourists are frustrating, but I think it's worth it.

Anyway, to celebrate my new found disposable income (this was pre-pay day, so things were pretty dire), I recruited Abbi for a trip to M&M world...where I got completely carried away, but it's okay since this was also when we found our first BT Phone Boxes. New project alert! I've always followed Ab's previous  < insert appropriate painted object > hunting, sad that I couldn't join in cause it seems like such a fun way to get out and about town, discovering new places. And now I get to do it too! Two days of official hunting and 26 boxes down.

The upcoming week is looking pretty busy - plans for practically every evening. But now if you'll excuse me, I have to go ummm and aaaah over a t-shirt buying opportunity for a bit.

You can sit beside me when the world comes down 

If it doesn't matter then just turn around 

We don't need our bags and we can just leave town 

You can sit beside me when the world comes down 

We say, we do 

The lies, the truth 

And all I need is next to me

Music: Mona Lisa - The All American Rejects

Put another dime in the jukebox

I’ve had a bit of an emotional rollercoaster of a week – all internalised of course because I clearly have issues. But I don’t really feel like getting into it. Let’s just say it was my grandfather’s funeral yesterday and it was quite tough to find myself sitting on the other side of the world to my family and being unable to support them. That’s really what upset me more than anything. I mean I feel pretty useless in those situations in general, but now it was a thousand times worse. Who knew that was possible? But yeah. Not getting into it.

So what have I been up to this week? Um. Good question. New job is still going well, I’m definitely enjoying learning new stuff…although learning more stuff right about now would be a plus. The team is really nice too, which is always a bonus. Friday was pretty hilarious as we were all working away so we could leave early, resulting in some classic one liners.

I also managed to finish three books in a week and a half, so I’m pleased with myself. It’s been so long since I’ve just read. It amuses me that one of the books (High Fidelity) actually dates back to January – I bought it in Paris when we first started our trip. But then I was of course sucked into reading A Song of Ice and Fire so it was forgotten. Lugged all over Europe, but forgotten. It’s so similar to the movie though, dialogue is virtually identical. One of my uni tutors once remarked that Nick Hornby didn’t write novels, he wrote screenplays. You can see where he got that idea from. The other two books I read was for book club - I’ll save my discussion for that. One of them is Fifty Shades of Grey so it'll no doubt be lively o_O

What else? I am terribly disappointed I missed the All Blacks game yesterday. I wandered down to my local pub to watch a replay of the Australia v Wales match, hoping they’d play the AB game afterwards but no, it was not to be. See, I would go to see it live but since it’s in 8.30 in the damn morning, it’s kinda hard to find a pub that’s open. I should just trek out to the Walkabout but…but…but. So. Yeah. I suppose I should be glad that it’s almost Tri Nations (Four Nations? What is it called now?) time, at least when they play in South Africa it’s a reasonable time here.

Other than that, I’ve spent this weekend watching movies. I feel like I watch a lot of movies lately. Since last Sunday, I’ve watched Rock of Ages (soooo much fun), Fast Five, The Muppets, Ratatouille, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (so good, I don’t understand how people think it’s boring), War Horse (despite my better ‘this is going to be so emotionally manipulative’ judgement), and Breaking Dawn Pt 1 (skeletal Bella is kinda terrifying.) I’m also still working my way through Homeland (oh, Damien Lewis, you are so amazing) and trying to finish off Merlin season 4 – that’s taking a while mostly cause I’m lazy and they’re just recycling the same story tropes which is a bit frustrating, but the show still has some desperately awesome adorkable moments so I’m trying to persevere.

And…yeah. That’s about it. My friend A was in town on Monday so we had dinner and I did one of those blitz tours – I’m getting quite good at those. It amazes me that since I’ve been here, I’ve had four sets of friends visiting. The world’s really quite a small place. But sadly she was the last of the planned visits. When I was first organising this year away business, there was talk of my parents dropping by in June/July but that’s obviously not going to happen now.

I have to do some writing today but I’m going to have to build up to it slowly, I think. Bit of a headache. Bit of an extreme laziness. Might watch another film first…



Music: I love rock n roll - Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

Let the casting of The Hunger Games begin...

About two weeks ago, I was absolutely outraged by the rumour that Cedric would play Finnick Odair in Catching Fire. Twitter nearly caught alight from my ire. It then led to pretty much a whole day of trawling IMDb at work in search of a better option (read: anyone). I mean, Finnick’s supposed to be this bronzed beach god. In no universe can that description ever apply to Robert Pattinson. Just, no.

Since then, it has emerged that he will definitely not be in The Hunger Games films but since the casting for Finnick still hasn’t been revealed, here’s my list of 10 actors who could possibly pull it off (although to be honest, it was incredibly hard to even come up with 10 and I have yet to find someone who actually feels like a perfect fit…Finnick is a difficult one to place, he’s almost otherworldly.)

Art is better than people. By the amazing AliceXZ.

To the list portion of events...

1. Bradley James
Aka Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, the most oblivious of all kings.This came to me as Abs and I were watching a Cary Elwes film (yeah, apparently Cary Elwes makes me think of Bradley…I don't understand either.) Granted, he is not the most brillant of actors but he is very pretty. He’s got that whole golden boy aura thing about him and he has stunning eyes. I could deal with this.

It's been four seasons and yet I have no idea the person I spend most of  my
time with has magic powers...even though said person is probably the least
 subtle or stealthiest  person on the planet. Good work.

2. Chase Crawford
Kinda the same boat as His Royal Obliviousness up there…I’ve never seen him in anything other than Gossip Girl so not too sure how his acting skills will hold up on the big screen. But he is very pretty also, and could pull off a more androgynous vibe which is sort of important to Finnick (is he, essentially, a veela?)

I think the only way to describe his look in most of the pics that
came up in my image search  is smoulder. I went for smile instead.

3. Ian Somerhalder
I don’t know why they’re all tv actors but bear with me here. I don’t actually watch Vampire Diaries so I have noooo idea whether he can act, but the dude has amazing eyes. And bone structure. I’m being entirely shallow with the casting of this but physical appearance is so important in this instance, surely I can be forgiven…right? He’s also early 30s which is a plus when you consider Finnick is supposed to be 10 years older than the others…and they’re all played by 20-22 year olds.

I have chosen this pic because he is on a beach.
See how much thought I'm putting into this?

4. Zac Efron
Things we know about Zac Efron: can pull off a tan, can bulk up, can be very cheeky. Could work. I mean, he's good-looking in that swoony way, and Finnick does have a bit of that going for him too.

I have also chosen this pic because of the ocean. Yeah. I'm making an effort.

5. Armie Hammer
Probably too chiseled for the role? But he was very good in The Social Network and he could probably do justice to some of that inner depth Finnick gradually reveals.

And I have chosen this pic because I have no idea what this photogapher was
thinking when he came up with this. Yes, hold two sheets of plastic. Brilliant!

6. Jensen Ackles
Because of the eyes, and the smile. Yes.

Okay, okay, I’m struggling with this list... but he is adorable.

7. Taylor Kitsch
I haven’t actually seen him in anything, I only know of him cause a friend of mine fancies him. He does kind of look the part. Oh, wait no, I lie, he was Gambit in X-Men Origins: Wolverine... not that it says much.

Gambit, for the record, is awesome. When is he getting his own movie?

8. Kevin Zegers
Same friend fancies him too. Saw him in Dawn of the Dead but that’s about it. If Zac Efron can be on this list though then so can he. Same basic look happening.

I...huh.

9. Nicholas Hoult
Thanks to Skins we know he can play arrogant and yet be likable and vulnerable. He’s quite versatile as an actor and I think pretty solid as well. Not exactly conventional beach god material, but it could work? Maybe.

Bow ties are cool.

And, finally, dare I say it…

10. Jake Gyllenhaal
Well. He’s Jake Gyllenhaal. Right age. Cheeky. Gorgeous. We could do way worse.

Yes alright, Mr Gyllenhaal, that's quite enough.

Another possibility: Brandon Routh 

Brandon strikes me as underappreciated, mostly because his Superman film never took off, but I thought he was rather brilliant in his small bit in Scott Pilgrim so on that merit, I’ve included him in this list. 

Also, Alexander Skarsgard. Because if you look up blonde adonis and/or perfection in the dictionary, this is what you'll find:

The reason he's such a convincing vampire is because he is clearly not human. 
While everyone stands around drooling, he will destroy us all.

But, realistically, I can’t help but feel that the part will probably go to Alex Pettyfer (who is actually much more palatable when he uses his natural accent, who knew) or Garrett Hedlund (who I like, but for this? I don't know.)

This was all too hard. Let’s move on to casting Beetee…yes, he’s supposed to be in his fifties or something, but we can all agree we want Matthew Gray Gubler, right? 

Music: Oh My God - Kaiser Chiefs

Climbing up the top sails

Hey look, another blog. Shock horror. I guess you can tell that I don’t particularly feel like working this week.

For those following my descent into full-blown geekiness, I finished Watchmen last night. I now understand why a friend of mine insists Matthew Goode was miscast as Ozymandias… but seeing as Ozymandias was the only character I really paid attention to in the movie, I’m not particularly fussed about this. On the page, he’s a bit of a prat. On the screen, I was totally on his side. Vanity? Perhaps. Obviously it’s been ages since I saw the film, but a lot of things make a lot a more sense now – the music, for example. Not that I don’t love the soundtrack (best part of the film really) but I would maybe not have been so quick to burst into hysterical laughter at ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ had I know how it was referenced in the text. This is a big maybe though because unfortunately I can only ever think of Mr Burns when I hear it. Poor Wagner, I’m sure he never anticipated that for his music.

I really do not like Nite Owl though. I kinda just want to smack him around. Don’t know why Rorschach doesn’t do me the favour. Anyway. I should really have read it before I saw the film. It was a pretty faithful adaptation, so it’s not like there was any mystery. It’s a good read - very nuanced, very clever – but it didn’t exactly blow my mind. And I know, I know. It’s supposed to be this genius work and the ultimate of the medium and what have you but…eh *shrug* I liked V for Vendetta more. I read it last week and that was just mind-bendingly good.

You know what else is a good read? One Day by David Nicholls. This book is a modern classic. It does everything a good book should and it’s presented in an interesting, engaging way that’ll keep you hooked. It’s one of those that, if you read it at the right time in your life, defines who you are. Read it before you see the movie. That’s the new rule.

Next on my reading list is the first Sally Lockhart novel and probably Joss Whedon's Astonishing X-Men. I have to say reading graphic novels is much more compatible with work cause I just blitz through them in an evening. I'm one of those people who likes to read a book pretty much in one sitting if I can, all that stop-starting completely puts me off it. I've actually organised my TBR pile in order of the number of pages - anything around the 300 mark I can still finish in one night if I start early enough, so they're at the top. The ones I know will take longer, I'll leave to last.  Like A Game of Thrones which I'm dying to read but it's so huuuuge. I just know I'm never going to be able to put it down. Sadly it'll just have to wait. It seems like a ridiculous system, but if I didn't have one, I'd just end up reading nothing.

Now. Back to the craft shops. Joy.

Music: I'm shipping up to Boston - Dropkick Murphys

To the ether

I’m reading this book at the moment and I keep having to stop every couple of pages because it’s in your voice, and I can hear you, like you’re sitting right next to me. It’s both oddly disconcerting and tragically wonderful.

Sometimes I think I'm too sentimental for my own good.

Music: Rumour has it - Adele

Of naps and reading

Came home early with a terrible headache and had a nap. Felt marginally better afterwards, or at least well enough to some reading, so I read The Hunger Games. I think Tomorrow, When The War Began is better, but I still couldn't put it down. Part of me wanted to be annoyed with Katniss for being so oblivious and for kinda breaking Peeta's heart but then, how can I be? I realised she's just like me. Which is interesting.

Wish I had the second novel so I could just keep going but alas, I'll have to save up for that. In the meantime, I guess I should start A Game of Thrones - but it's so big and I've heard it's super addictive and I have so many things to do! Gah. Tempted to just take a week off and read o.O

I am also fine with this casting.

Music: Into the west - Annie Lennox

The thing about Harry Potter

Tonight my friends and I are off to the midnight screening of the final Harry Potter film. It’s both exciting and ever so slightly traumatic.

It may sound weird to some, but Harry, Ron and Hermoine are like personal friends I grew up with. When they were eleven, I was eleven, and we all grew up together. In the end, I overshot them a little, but it didn’t really matter – the effect was the same. There are just so many memories. All the lining up, math classes spent reading, discussing everything in detail, trying not to spoil M about Dumbledore because she couldn’t read the The Half Blood Prince until after exams were over. Oh, and she was so into the fandom too, introducing us all the dubious joy of wizard rock (which incidentally I still have on my computer.)

Of course the movies played their part too. The Philospher’s Stone was the first film I saw here, I went with my mum for my birthday. Funny to think about it now, it seems like a lifetime ago. There came new friends, more memories, silly things like hanging out after school to watch The Prisoner of Azkaban and smuggling hot chips past a highly suspicious security guard. It’s just scattered through my entire adolescence.

Really, when it comes right down to it, this is all I have left of my childhood. It’s the only thing that overlaps the two halves of my life. You know how everyone has that stuffed toy they had all their life? Mine got lost when we moved here, and in a way Harry Potter is that for me. That link. We’ve been through so much together, good and bad. Harry, Ron and Hermoine were always there, a reprieve, a rallying point.

I remember when the exhilaration of blitzing through The Deathly Hallows wore off and the reality of it being the last book ever sunk in, it didn’t seem quite so sad because “we still have the movies!” And yeah, I never liked the movies nearly as much as the books, but it was still something. After tonight, it’s all gone. My childhood is officially over. Even though you could argue that it’s been over for a long time, it still feels like this is the moment when the door finally, resolutely closes.

It seems so surreal that at midnight, I’ll be saying hello to all these characters for the last time. The only consolation I have is knowing that, out there, there is a whole generation of people who know exactly where I’m coming from with this. ‘Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.’ Really, we’ll never be alone. That’s got to count for something.

Music: Every me, every you - Placebo

Because reading is love

On Twitter right now there's a discussion going about YA fiction in response to this ridiculously agitating article from the Wall Street Journal. Check out the #YASaves tag for the whole deal.

I joined in easily enough because YA lit, and reading, gave me something to hold on to when I needed it the most – as reading continues to do to this very day. But this got me thinking. This year marks our tenth anniversary of arriving in Australia. On the 30th of October, it will have been exactly ten years since I first set foot on Sydney soil (and I was promptly harassed by flies…a true Australian welcome.) I have no problem admitting that I had an incredibly hard time. Really, I fell apart. I completely lost any sense of myself, and generally speaking I have very little recollection of anything that happened that first year.

Turning 14, becoming a full-fledged teenager, is hard enough in itself, but to loose everything you’d ever known at the same time…well, it’s devastating. I was depressed, properly depth of darkness depressed. I would stay in bed until mum forced me out, and I would barely eat or speak. Then my dad bought me a book to cheer me up and suddenly there was a light at the end of the tunnel again. If you'll forgive the cliche. I didn’t really buy books before we moved here (big library supporter), but after that first one, it became a cascade. I read books faster than my parents could have them ordered in for me, and now instead of sleeping all the time, I was reading. And sure, I was still spending 99% of my time holed up in my room, but I didn’t feel so utterly miserable and alone anymore. I had always loved books, but that year it became something else. It became intrinsically part of who I was.

And that’s the thing, you know. When you’re a teenager, you’re always trying to figure yourself out somehow, trying to make sense of the world. And in a way, you’re making yourself up as you go along. Some people complain that YA lit is too dark, but I don’t think they remember what it’s like to be a teen – being a teen is dark from a teens pov. To quote Andy Greenwald – as long as there are teenagers, there will be emo. Teens want something that makes them feel part of something bigger, something that gets it and doesn’t judge. And these days it’s not just about the books themselves, but about the community created around that. If it’s dark, so what, life is dark. Trust kids, teens, everyone, to know what they want. Censoring doesn't help anyone.

But to get back to my main point – I was entirely unmade when I moved here. I think back to the time before that now and I can’t remember what it felt like to be me, who I was, what I wanted. It’s like watching a recording of some other person’s life. I still wonder, ten years on, what I might have been like had we never moved. It’s just so impossible to imagine. Life strikes me as a series of dominoes, one things leads to another, and would I have discovered somethings if certain dominoes hadn’t toppled? Would I even recognise myself? Would I even like myself? Truth be told, I can’t imagine being happy.

And I don’t regret any of it for a moment. I love Sydney, I love living here, I love my friends, my life, the people I’ve met and the things I’ve done. Knowing how hard it was, how it nearly destroyed me, I’d still do it again – because I know how it turns out, and it’s worth it. Books were the first building block to getting where I am now though. It’s the foundation upon which everything I am is built, followed closely by music. If I didn’t have those things, I never would have made it this far. And those are still the things I trust in today because I know they can get me through anything.

Music: Your Protector - Fleet Foxes

A wreath of trillium and ivy

His own destiny, too, was opening out before him, in unmeasured vistas of sun and smoke. He would not look back wherever it should take him; his heart accepted it with all its freight, the bright and the dark.

- Fire from Heaven, Mary Renault, p. 406

Music: Don't carry it all - The Decemberists

Top 10: Books I’m currently reading

On my bedside table right now, there are 21 books. I never used to read more than one book at a time, in fact I never understood how people did it, but somehow during the course of my uni career I had started doing it. I think it was because I wanted to read books I wanted to read, but I also had to read set books. So I’d alternate depending on what I felt like at the time. The problem with this system is that some books take forever to finish because they simply fall by the wayside as the others take over. And I also get a stack building up that never seems to get any less. But anyway, for this week’s Top 10 list, I thought I’d take the ten books on top of the pile and quote a paragraph (or part of one at least) from the page I am currently on. Reading = love.

He swung around to confront the others; in this instant the scene had changed, he saw instead the backs of the royal squires, shields locked, heaving off the Agrives. Hephaistion came breasting through like a swimmer through surf, and stood to shield his back.

Fire from Heaven – Mary Renault*

Old women wore it as a talisman around their necks, and they secretly knelt before idols carved from the holy stone. Mothers sewed it into their children's clothes, so the stone should make them fearless and protect them. But there had never been a Goyl whose skin was made of jade.

Reckless – Cornelia Funke

Finally after inflicting grave injuries on each other and doing much damage the two sides separated, and the Lacedaemonians saving all their empty ships except those which had been taken at first. Both sides then returned to their camps. The Athenians then set up a trophy, and gave back the dead. They seized hold of the wrecks and immediately began to sail round the island and keep it under guard, regarding the mean on it as now cut off. On the other hand the Peloponnesans on the mainland and the reinforcements which had now arrived from all directions remained in position at Pylos.

The best of Thucydides - Thucydides (trans. MG Dickson)

'The Hellenistic states had their origin on the battlefield,' Yvon Garlan emphasizes, 'and that is where they met their doom.' Throught the three centuries of their existence, warfare was continuous and ubiquitous, the main, and often the exclusive, topic of contemporary historians.

Alexander the Great and the Hellenistic Age – Peter Green

The morality of the Romans in this as in later periods had almost no connection with religion. The Roman did not ask his gods to make him good, but to bestow upon the community and upon his family material blessings. Morality was a matter of patriotism and of respect for authority and tradition. 

Western Civilizations - Edward McNall Burns

Whatever the origin of our representations, whether they are due to the influence of outer things, or are produced through inner causes, whether they arise a priori, or being appearances have an empirical origin, they must all, as modifications of mind, belong to inner sense. All our knowledge is this finally subject to time, the formal condition of inner sense. In it they must all be ordered, connected and brought into relation. This is a general observation which, throughout what follows, must be borne in mind as being quite fundamental.

Critique of Pure Reason – Immanuel Kant

But it was not so at all. They wandered, first down into the Vale and then gradually south and westward around the mountains, given lodging in little villages or spending the night out in the wilderness, like poor journeyman-sorcerers, or tinkers, or beggars. They entered no mysterious domain. Nothing happened. 

The Wizard of Earthsea – Ursula K. Le Guin

Though he was the same age as all of them, Thor towered over the other Roosters and was, in fact, the tallest eleven-year-old on Clam Island, as he had been the tallest nine-year-old, and the tallest five-year-old, and the tallest toddler, too.

Summerland – Michael Chabon

And it seemed I understood more viscerally than ever the atmosphere of purposeful gloom which had overhung my childhood in far-off Kiev. I saw again the muddy catacombs, and the half-buried monks who had cheered me on to become one of them.

The Vampire Armand – Anne Rice

Connie went to the wood directly after lunch. It was really a lovely day, the first dandelions making suns, the first daisies so white. The hazel thicket was a lace-work, of half-open leaves, and the last dusty perpendicular of the catkins. Yellow celandines now were in crowds, flat open, pressed back in urgency, and the yellow glitter of themselves. It was the yellow, the powerful yellow of early summer.

Lady Chatterley’s Lover – D.H. Lawrence (this is a perfect example of a book that’s taking me ages to finish for no other reason than I keep reading other stuff. I like it, it's an interesting read, but others somehow keep taking  precedence.)


* I’m in trouble with this book, and I don’t know what to do. First up, it’s making me so ridiculously happy. I am in love with the characters. I adore Renault’s Alexander. He is just…divine. By no means is he perfect, you can see where the cracks will form, but the flaws just make him more captivating. I think because you follow the character from childhood, you just become completely invested. Olympias is just something else. And Hephaistion. Oh, Hephaistion. He’s everything Louis in the Vampire Chronicles could have been, had he not been so weak. His loyalty, his deference, none of it lessens his intensity or his pride. But now I have a problem. The book is part of a trilogy, so to speak. It ends with Philip’s death, and the next one picks up after the Persian campaign and follows the last years of his life. Like I said, I adore this Alexander, and I want to know how it plays out, but the book is told from the point of view of a character I know is going to break my heart. And I like delusion, you know? I would like to pretend Hephaistion never had to feel second best, or third, or fourth, whatever. I’d like to pretend that he really was the only one who really understood Alexander. Because Hephaistion is brilliant, ok? Team Hephaistion all the damn way. Also, I like saying Hephaistion. Hee. (Actually, I prefer using Hephaestion, but the other spelling is used in the book.) On one hand, I should probably give Renault the benefit of the doubt. I’ve loved the characters so far, who’s to say I won’t like Bagoas too? Except…how can I, when I am so invested in the other? I don’t want to see things from his point of view, and I know it’s going to make me angry. The same sort of simmering throw-the-book-across-the-room frustrated anger that the Torchwood books incur when Gwen is being pushy and acting (vehemently) entitled. So now I’m stuck. I’m tempted to just skip to Funeral Games, the third book that deals with the empire’s demise following Alexander’s death. But then Renault is so good at evoking character and creating scenes, I feel like I’d miss something if I did. Waaaah.

That awkward moment when you remember the character you’re in love with was a real person and won’t ever have any semblance of a happy ending because he’s devoted to a king who can be a bit of a prat but doesn’t realise because he’s just doing what king’s do after all; has his value doubted, and then dies at 32 because he eats after the physician tells him not to. And then, by some accounts at least, Alexander has the doctor executed. Everyone wins. Wait, what?

Music: Sowing season - Brand New

Louder than sirens

Does Australia have any history? Back beyond the settlement? Did the Aboriginal tribes have wars? Is there anything beyond the Dreaming, anything dealing with things beyond the creation?

I ask because I don’t know.

Africa has history, and lots of it. Whether European colonial, or traditional, it’s there. You can trace the footsteps of Shaka, find his kingdom between the Umzikulu river and Pongolo river, as he strengthened one of the proudest nations, or envision the diplomacy and victories that defined Moshes and the Sotho people. The Mfecane. That’s not even scratching the surface. That’s 'recent'. It goes up, further and further into the continent, all the way up to Egypt, its history stretching back beyond remembrance. It’s a continent filled with stories, marked by battle scars and glutted with the blood of warriors and innocents alike – continuing to this very moment.

History has its own power. To those who will feel it. I’ve stood on sacred lands and ancient battlefields and I think the earth remembers. There's something older, and deeper, and disconcerting. These things are so far beyond my comprehension, but it stirs something within me. And as I work my way through the ancient history of this world, not with the attention of a school girl but one with a genuine unquenchable interest, I find myself utterly enthralled. Can’t you see them, standing on the plains? Proud and fierce. All the warriors who lived and died by the sword, in a time when war was still honourable, glorious and terrible. The earth soaked in their blood, and never forgot it. Neither did history. Sure, it is written by the victors, and in the end we can never really be sure of the line between fact or fiction, and we will never truly know anything as time sweeps it away indiscriminately. But the great warriors all got what they wanted in the end, didn’t they? Immortality. Over two thousands years later, we know their names. We remember the battles.

And my heart aches from the majesty of it all.

Man’s immortality is not to live for ever; for that wish is born of fear. Each moment free from fear makes a man immortal.

Music: Drumming song - Florence + The Machine

Reconcile the violence in your heart

Guess what? I’ve let go of the deranged Leto thing, and have diverted my attention elsewhere. The Super 15 season (or should I just call it Super Rugby now?) started this weekend, so I can go back obsessing over that for a while instead. First things first, it somehow escaped my notice but my boy Dan got engaged at the end of last year. I guess that makes him officially grown up now, awww. We’ve had some times *reminisces* He’ll always be my favourite. Anywhoodle, I actually managed to watch all the games, except for the SA ones as I’m disinclined to staying up all night in order to be aggravated. Oh and, thanks to having a migraine of epic proportions, I slept through the first half of the Highlanders/Hurricanes game…not that I missed much.

But yes! New season! Not a bad start overall, my team lost…but we always start slow, and it wasn’t a big loss, so it’s still good! My other team won by a mile, so there’s that at least. Hilariously, my family and I are playing against each other in a fantasy league. If you were in my house on Saturday night, this is why you’d have heard me yelling “I need a cheap hooker!” and no other reason. Ahem.

Overall, quite a nice weekend. I left work early on Friday after aforementioned migraine attempted to kill me – it was in a class of its own. Dragged on into Saturday, but I managed to numb it somewhat with drugs and head off to picnic with M and R. It was absolutely lovely, and I very ungraciously won a game of Trivial Pursuit. Sunday was dedicated to exploring these markets I’d just found out about with L – they were sadly very little and it was far too humid for comfort, so off to airconditioned shopping mall it was. There was much browsing, a nice lunch and a lovely catch-up. Saw boots I desperately want…need? Must exercise self control! Aaaah! Curse you, responsible adulthood.

Headache returned in the evening. Perhaps heat related? Not sure. Not entirely 100% healthy at the moment, in fact I generally just feel pretty crappy. Probably stress. Need a holiday. A proper holiday. Can’t wait for April – only 51 days to go, but who’s counting?

In other news, I finished The Iliad. I am so proud of myself. I know I attempted reading it before when I was younger, but I can’t remember ever finishing it. Anyway, huzzah! Now I can return to the library triumphant and shuffle slightly forward in history. Also borrowed a stack of books from R on Saturday, so recreational reading is definitely on the cards. Brilliant. Back to uni next week, don’t think I have much required reading for a change, so yay?

Well. That's my boring update. Work to do. Still scrambling with the last lot of deadlines with new ones looming. Also quite a busy week ahead with writers group Wednesday, and other things, plus I’m off to help out at the Kiama Sevens on Saturday, then there’s Soundwave on Sunday. Next week is going to be a tough one – after thoroughly exhausting myself by hanging around outside all weekend, I’m seeing The Gaslight Anthem on Monday night, and then uni 6-9 on Wednesday and Thursday. I’ve said it before, and I will say it many more times in my sad little life – sleep is for the weak.

PS: I know I skipped the Top 10 last week – blame the migraine. Will pick it up again Friday.

Music: Undisclosed desires - Muse

Knock me down

News. I can haz it!

So, I attend a writer’s group now. It’s good, despite my general dislike for all group social interactions. I’m not sure how it’ll work out with uni as we currently meet on Wednesdays, and I think I’ve got class on Wednesdays. We shall see, I guess. Only two more weeks till it’s back to the dungeons of tertiary servitude (she says even though she secretly loves it.)

I’ve got an essay to write this weekend – please, please nag me about it, if you have the chance. I will kick myself if I don’t at least try because there are few things in life greater than marrying your fandom with academia.

Thirdly, after much deliberation, I have decided to apply for a new job. I was hesitant because I didn’t want it to seem like I was giving up with my current job – but it’s a great opportunity in a line I’m much more passionate about. Applying can’t hurt, right? Problem is now that I’ve decided to apply and I’ve written everything that’s required for it, I’m actually a bit scared by how much I want it. I have a personal rule against expectation and I’m dangerously close to breaking it :/

Yesterday, I had a day out with mum. We headed to the travel expo first and accumulated a frankly frightening amount of brochures. I may or may not have added another bazillion places to my list of places to visit. I think there should be a stall to help people like me navigate the logistical nightmare of wanting to up and leave for a significant period of time. I don’t really know what I’m doing and it’s very annoying. Following that, we had lunch at Pancakes and wandered about Town Hall, seemingly acquiring chocolate and cupcakes without really trying. Good times.

In news that is not my own, Pete Wentz and Ahslee Simpson have split. While I’m tempted to say ‘I told you so’, I’m more concerned with Pete’s self-destructive tendencies at the moment and I hope someone’s looking out for him.

What else? Oh yes, first wave of Sydney Supanova guests have been announced – including the insane (now married) James Marsters, Simon and Inara from Firefly, Cary Elwes aka Westley aka Robin Hood aka coolest dude ever, and my dearly departed fictional Welsh boyfriend’s doppelganger, among others. So all in all, it’s shaping up adequately geeky. Now, prepare the hip flask… not making the same mistake as last year, after all.

Just discovered Cary Elwes played Paris in a tv show about the Trojan War. Wonder if he was better than dear old Orlando Bloom. Speaking of the Trojan War, I’m currently halfway through the second volume of The Illiad. Oh my god, Homer. How long do people need to stand fighting over a body? The amount of time it’s taken them to get Patroclus’ body back to Achilles is only beaten by the amount of time it took Patroclus to actually start fighting in the first place. Epic poem is epic. Sigh. Greek mythology clearly favours my ‘setting sims on fire’ approach to religion.

On the work front – things are still completely manic. I had the fun job of sourcing a Kindle for a photo shoot this week and using one is actually not as horrible as I thought it would be. I still love books though. Nothing beats the feel of a book. But yes, work may still cause a nervous breakdown at this rate. And it’s extra stressful because I am not biting my nails anymore – as that’s my standard response to stress, I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.

And on that note, time to crack on. A bazillion profiles to write. From thin air as clients are useless. As always. Yay.

Music: Lips like morphine - Kill Hannah

Shaking through my skull

I’ve got a huge backlog of blogs that I want to do. Random thoughts on things, the standard. Sadly they must all wait until I actually manage to find time to sit down at my laptop and not get distracted by other things.

Until then, we shall continue with spur of the moment work blogs. I think I may have been too harsh on Jared Leto and maybe I should give him a second chance…I mean, surely someone who is friends with my darling Mat Devine (and Amanda Palmer? I think?) can’t be all bad. Right? It’s not like I actually know the guy, so being annoyed by him is a bit silly really, isn’t it? Look, I just need to reconcile the fact that I can be so obsessed with someone I find rather annoying. I’m appalled too, don’t worry, I never knew I had such shallowness in me. Live and learn.

Can’t really blame me though, can you? He’s even pretty in black and white
and you can’t even see how blue his eyes are. It’s so fucking unfair.

And he's 16 years older than me. Hang on, that means he’s turning 40 this year. Holy mother of Frodo. Also, I need to clarify that it’s not the first time I’ve been taken by his prettiness, this is more…a relapse. Last time it involved sitting through a lot of 30STM videos, and I promptly stopped doing that after the gig. But whatever. Props to Jared all the same, I did copy his hair after all.

Moving on.

After work last night I went to our council’s main library for the first time since moving to the area. I was pleasantly surprised – it was super organised, had friendly staff and actually had a good library vibe. It brought on a case of library reminiscing.

Truth is, I don’t go to the library a lot. These days I tend to just buy what I need, or find it online if I must (for uni, usually), and the only reason I went last night was because I can’t actually afford to buy books at the moment. The most significant amount of time I've spent in the library in recent memory was when I did honours, and that was hours spent in the State researching – a habit I’m glad I picked up as I still like to do that, I’m much more productive there than anywhere else. But an actual local library?  Haven’t used one in years.

When I was younger I practically lived at the library. I exhausted the local one near our house by the age of nine, and we had to go to the municipal one instead. This was pretty much a steady aspect of my life until we moved here. Of course, I wanted to keep borrowing books, but visiting our local library left me completely deflated. It sucked. End of. So I formed the opinion that Australian libraries were clearly deficient and started buying stuff instead. At the time I didn’t really understand how the system worked here and I was feeling too sorry for myself to bother figuring it out. Anyway, once I started buying books (and borrowing from R), I never really looked back.

Until now. Because I have all of $6 to my name, a car that needs a new exhaust, a speeding ticket to pay (no, it’s still the same one, I’m leaving it till the last minute), bills, and a year long adventure to save for. So books, though they are the very foundation of my soul, have become a bit of a luxury item. Temporarily.

I was actually a bit offended that the librarian wanted to teach me how to use the library, and then told me I could only borrow three books because I’m a new member. Like I haven’t ever used one before! Don’t they know who I am? Delusions of grandeur, I have them. Anyway, I was reading one last night and I completely forgot the peculiarities of reading a library book. Like finding random things in them. Or the way they are sometimes so old and well-read, it’s like reading some ancient manuscript. Or the date stamps in the front. Remember when they still used to stamp books? That takes me back. The one I’ve got now was first taken out in 1982, although they might have replaced the paper before that – there’s clear glue evidence on the title page to suggest this.

Long story short, I’ve borrowed my three books, and I’m speeding through them so I can return them on Saturday and get the remaining 11 that was on my list. I'm beginning to suspect I'm a bit of a book hog. According to Twitter, eveyone is encouraged to support their local libraries on February 5, so I figured what the hell, it works out well. As it turns out, book depositories face a real risk of extinction (ironically, the book depository no doubt has a hand in that) and I guess people don’t realise that they still serve a purpose. Even though I haven’t visited mine very often in recent years, I would hate to think that there would ever be a time without libraries. I don’t know what my 9 year old self would have done without them, and even though the internet can find anything you want, nothing really compares to that feeling you get when browsing a collection of books. As they say on the Simpsons, won’t somebody please think of the children!?

On another note, have I mentioned how much I love Twitter? On one hand, I find it a bit creepy when I complain about a service provider on there and said service provider tweets me back, but then they usually offer such excellent customer service, it sort of outweighs the creepiness. I've gotten more queries sorted through twitter, quickly and smoothly, than I ever have by actually calling them. Welcome to the future, I guess.

Music: Blinding – Florence & The Machine

A quote before sleeping

You can build walls all the way to the sky and I will find a way to fly above them. You can try to pin me down with a hundred thousand arms, but I will find a way to resist. And there are many of us out there, more than you think. People who refuse to stop believing. People who refuse to come to earth.

- Delirium, Lauren Oliver, p.441

--
From Donna, with love.
[[Watch it, spaceman!]]

There's no sign of life

So reading the paper this morning revealed that Kate Hudson and Matt Bellamy have apparently been dating for the past six months. How many rockstars do you need, Hudson? How many?

Sigh.

FNB is going well, we had our second meet-up last night and it was a very enjoyable evening. After our discussion of the books - Marian Keyes' The Other Side of the Story proving the more popular choice over Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner - it was decided the evening needed to be continued with our favourite pass time, movie watching. We headed off to the local rental place to scare customers away and aggravate employees and finally settled back on the couch for a long evening of silliness. We stuck to the chick lit theme of the evening and went with romantic comedy types. T'was quite hilarious. Our next genre is YA and it's my choice - I've nominated Summerland by Michael Chabon, and The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. There's been some contention over whether the latter is in fact a YA novel, but according to the rules of the book club, I think I am comfortably within the right to recommend it.

Sunday's been pretty hazy, but I've been buzzing. I've had an idea for a story for a while now and it's finally clicked into place enough for me to want to write it. Yay! I've missed this feeling. I try not to worry about it too much when it's not around, mostly because when I try to force myself to write, it's just depressingly second-rate. To actually feel somewhat motivated again is great. Too bad I have to work tomorrow. What can we do?

I was totally angsty over that on Friday actually. That whole 'you have to work, what can you do' thing. I can't stand it. I can't handle the thought that this is what life is. Maybe it is, you know, but there has to be something else. There just has to be. I don't want to settle for anything less, for convention and tradition, and expected hopes and dreams of a good career, buying a house, all that stuff. It's fine for some people, but it's not me. It's not what I want, it's not what I've ever wanted. Maybe I don't really know what I want. I just want to look back on my life one day and know that I was always entirely true to myself, without affectation and without compromising who I was or what I wanted to fit in with some sort of expectation of what I should or should not want or be. A counterintuitive life. Anyway, I get a bit manic when I'm cooped up in an office, dragging myself through dull mediocrity, and that leads to such thoughts. I know saying this sort of thing comes across as overly idealistic, naive even, but I just don't think I'm cut out for it and I don't see why I should have to settle. I refuse to. I'm still too young to do so, anyway.

While grocery shopping today, I caught sight of this ultra violet hair colour that's taken my fancy. I've got an appointment at the hairdressers on Saturday and I'm seriously thinking about going for it. I love my red layer, and I get tons of compliments on it, but something different might be nice. Thoughts?

In other news, my William jeans are fraying at the hem. Sad. These jeans are my favourite pair, possibly ever. I will wear them until they disintegrate completely.

Music: Modern Love - David Bowie
Mood: Creative

Cut and run

'How would you like to get the hell out of here? Here's my idea. I know this guy down in Greenwich Village that we can borrow his cab for a couple of weeks, He used to go to the same school I did and he still owes me ten bucks. What we could do is, tomorrow morning we could drive up to Massachusetts and Vermont, and all around there, see. It's beautiful as hell up there. It really is.' I was getting excited as hell, the more I thought about it, and I sort of reached over and took old Sally's goddam hand. What a goddam fool I was. 'No kidding,' I said, 'I have about a hundred and eighy bucks in the bank. I can take it out when it opens in the morning, and then I could go down and get this guy's car. No kidding. We'll stay in these cabin camps and stuff like that till the dough runs out. Then, when the dough runs out, I could get a job somewhere and we could live somewhere with a brook and all and, later on, we could get married or something. I could chop all our own wood in the wintertime and all. Honest to God, we could have a terrific time! Wuddaya say? C'mon! Wuddaya say? Will you do it with me? Please!'
'You can't just do something like that,' old Sally said. She sounded sore as hell.
'Why not? Why the hell not?'

Oh Holden, how often I ask myself that question. Surely everyone wants to run away sometimes, just drop everything and go. Even if just for a little while. No apologies, no regrets.

Music: Creaking trees
Mood: Restless