Friday 30 December 2011

Magnitude

My life can be very small...


...but the people in it are ace.

Wednesday 28 December 2011

Heroes and Idols


Lying here in the depths of non-sleep, I find myself constructing (for reasons not really clear even to me) a list of heroes and inspirational sorts... They are roughly as follows: (note this is not exhaustive, and that they are not in any particular order. Not here, anyway. I have some sort of vague mental ranking, and they are definitely not all equally heroic or idolised, but it would take far more brain power than I can muster at the moment to try and do that justice here...)

Real Life:
- Jesus
- Gareth Malone
- Ben Lovett
- Mr Spittle (my unfortunately named yet wonderful year 8 maths teacher)
- Adele
- Oliver Sacks
- Martin Freeman
- Stephen Fry

 Fictional:
- Sherlock Holmes
- Amélie Poulain
- Captain Jack Sparrow
- Emma Morley
- Summer Finn (though she was a bit of a phase...)
- others that had sprung to mind before writing this, whom I have now forgotten...

There you have it. A rather narrow list of people for whom I have some respect.

There are others of course. But I'm splurging what is in my head in an attempt to get it out so I can sleep.



Also, I would just like to draw attention to the fact that NO items of clothing, jewellery or footwear have been purchased by me since the end of October. I have been given a few items, but that's allowed. I think...

I didn't even over-excess on something else in their place, which I sort of thought I might...

Except for today when I bought 6 LPs. But that's like an extension of my Christmas present, so therefore is allowed. Probably.


Anyway, I should try sleeping again. Yes please.

Sunday 18 December 2011

Abandonment and The Weekend of Very Little Sleep

I have realised recently, I have a bit of a fear of abandonment.

I mean, I suppose no one really likes the idea, so in that sense let's not over-dramatise it, but my reactions to a couple of recent events (like my parents not being at home when I was expecting them to be, so we could drive to Nottingham together, and my immediate reaction being combined panic and deep hurt at the immediate assumption they must have left without me) have suggested to me that there's something in me that is really quite scared of it.

Which is ironic, considering how stubbornly self-sufficient I can be.


Anyway, that's by the by.


This weekend has been ACE.


It went a little something like this:
- Thursday (I know not technically the weekend, but hey. Technically not ace either...): off school with aching limbs and flu-like symptoms. Spent the day sleeping and watching three different films, back to back (Sherlock Holmes (in preparation for the new one), X-men Origins (Wolverine), and Once)
- Thursday night: Hums faculty dinner in Rothwell. Mm-mm. Loved the food, loved the party hats, and secret Santa was a success.

- Friday: still somewhat zoned out, but in school for choirs, assemblies, Christmas fayres and panto. A jolly day all round.
- Friday night: staff social in Corby. Was massively fun. Much food, dancing and jollity was had, culminating in a 2:30am bedtime.

- Saturday: spent the day clearing, cleaning and sorting out the house. Much needed, and is now much nicer.
- Saturday night: Christmas house party in Tufnell Park, which was lush. I loved catching up with people I have known for a while, and people I have been getting to know over the past couple of years. Again, much fun was had, and this culminated in a 4:30 bedtime.

- Sunday: woke up disgustingly late, went for lunch at my friend's mother's house, sang carols a capella, with voices that were not quite working, and then came home again.



What a beautiful end to the term. And now, I'm about to watch last night's episode of Merlin, and have just eaten 9 liqueur chocolates. I feel a bit sick.

Roll on tomorrow, with NO ALARM and the imminent return to Parentsville. Delicious food, real fire and family on tap. Yesss...


Right, Merlin o'clock it is, shortly followed by loooooooooooooong sleep time.


Bring it.

Sunday 11 December 2011

The Milka Father Christmas, and other stories...

I'm sitting in my bed, with three candles burning, and the sounds of traditional carols streaming into my ears.

A small milka Father Christmas is winking at me from my bookcase, my nails are tinted a shade of burgundy and my feet are snuggled in their red woollen socks.


I am feeling remarkably festive.


This weekend was the Marlborough Street Massive's Christmas Weekend. We spent Saturday bustling about beautiful little shops, buying trinkets and toffees and hot chestnuts. It was ridiculously lovely. There was a nativity play, with real live animals and people dressed up in excellent costumes, speaking beautiful words and singing Little Donkey and Away in a Manger and other delightfully festive songs.

Then we went back to a bungalow filled with Christmas tree and DIY and tea, and sat about catching up and sitting and hearing about each others' lives.

After an evening of preparing, partying, cooking, changing, tasting, mulling, baking, and brewing, we ate the best meal of the year, and shared Buck's fizz and rosé wine, and ate until we shouldn't have. With bellies bursting and dresses a little too tight, we lounged beside the log fire (I'm not making any of this up - this is how perfect the weekend was), passing round parcels and presents and opening cards, until the fire had burnt down, and Kate Bush had finished serenading us with her fifty names for snow, and all the wrapping paper was no longer keeping secrets, but had been demoted to fire fuel or recycling scraps.

At this point, we crawled into our respective beds and slept until our body clocks woke each other up the next morning.



I flipping loved it.



Saturday 3 December 2011

Self Control

I will not feel sad. I will not feel sad. I will not feel sad.





I feel a bit sad.