Live to read. Read to live.

2012-02-10T14:30:00.000-08:00

Today I am grumpy. My head hurts and I have been a very busy bee at work and it's one of those days where everything seems to be going wrong. I am so glad it's the weekend.

It's Kraft Klub tonight, which is absolutely a very serious and real club for crafting and not at all an excuse to get together and drink lots of alcohol and be merry. Not at all. My house is the venue this evening so it's home to prepare nibbles and make sure we have enough stuff to [not] drink and that my craft supplies are in order before everybody arrives at 19h30.

Then, tomorrow Ian goes skiing for a week. I know, how lucky is he? I am so so jealous. So very jealous. I shan't focus on that though, I shall instead focus on my tomorrow evening plans on my own alone which are to do the following: put on my PJ's, heat up some milk, snuggle up under a patchwork quilt with my cat and drool over Matthew Rhys in 'The Edge of Love.'

I have such a crush on Matthew Rhys. Like a proper fangirl crush. I bought a film called 'Fakers' years ago when I went through my Art Malik phase [aaah, Zubin!] and he was in that, my crush grew from there pretty much because well, yum. Fakers is actually a pretty good film for a low budget UK film, watch it if you ever come across it; it's lots of fun. Art Malik is v.v.good.
Anyway, I digress, Matthew is probably most famous for playing the adorable (American) Kevin Walker in Brothers and Sisters which I blog about sporadically, but he is equally gorgeous being his Welsh self as Dylan Thomas in The Edge of Love, which, set in London in the 1940's and telling the story of Dylan Thomas, his wife (Sienna Miller) and his first love (Keira Knightley) is just a really lovely film in it's own right (particularly if you love Dylan Thomas, which I do. Hello, Under Milk Wood. I adore you.)
So yes, that will cheer me up tomorrow night I think.

Sunday I am going with Helen and her Mum to see Lee Mead at the Bridgewater Hall. I shall be making the most of Helen beforehand as I'm not actually sure she'll survive the concert; she forgot to breathe when we saw Lee in Joseph a couple of years ago and we'll be much closer on Sunday [yes, that's right, we do have row B tickets] I may be back on Monday posting a eulogy to my best friend. It will mostly go like this:
'Aaaah Helen, how she loved Lee Mead. She may be gone but she will always be my stupid person.' Or something.

It's going to be a lovely weekend. Happy Friday xxx

in which I am London-bound

2012-01-13T04:52:00.000-08:00

Today I am mostly happysmilyhappybouncyhappy. It's fairly safe to say that I absolutely have the Friday feeling, which, lets's be honest, is always nice.

Not only have I had a fairly good week [so far, so good, 2012] but this time tomorrow I will be in London Town with the fabulous Jen Campbell which I am extremely excited about. It's been a long time coming and I am uber excited about walks on Hampstead Heath and antiquarian bookshops and The Hummingbird Bakery and a Quentin Blake exhibition and catching up with other London-based friends and chatter and books and films and wine and photographs. It will be a very nice time indeed I think and I shall return next week and regale you with tales of our adventures [which hopefully will not involve us getting lost anywhere ever]

In other news it has dawned on me that I haven't blogged about the good books of 2011 which is annoying as I totally meant to do that over Christmas. Curses.

I struggled a little because I read some really really good books last year. 2011has been a good year for me, reading wise and narrowing it down to just 5 wastough. I managed though, so in no particular order here you go:

Never Let MeGo – Kazuo Ishiguro

“Because maybe, in a way, we didn't leave itbehind nearly as much as we might once have thought. Because somewhereunderneath, a part of us stayed like that: fearful of the world around us, andno matter how much we despised ourselves for it--unable quite to let each othergo.”

TheKite Runner – Khaled Hosseini

For you, a thousandtimes over”

TheHunger Games – Suzanne Collins

[I’m cheating a bit here and countingthe trilogy as 1 choice. Please don’t shoot me. I loved these books. Ipreferred the first and second to the third but I loved them all. They totallygot under my skin and I just couldn’t put them down. I can’t wait to read themagain!]

One more time? For theaudience?" he says. His voice isn't angry. It's hollow, which is worse.Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.

ThePerks Of Being A Wallflower - Stephen Chbosky

“I think that if Iever have kids, and they are upset, I won't tell them that people are starvingin China or anything like that because it wouldn't change the fact that theywere upset. And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't reallychange the fact that you have what you have.”

BetweenShades Of Grey - Ruta Sepetys

Ileft the jutra to chop wood. I began my walk through the snow, five kilometersto the tree line. That's when I saw it. A tiny silver of gold appeared betweenshades of gray on the horizon.
I stared at the amber band of sunlight, smiling.
The sun had returned.
I closed my eyes. I felt Andrius moving close. "I'll see you," hesaid.
"Yes, I will see you," I whispered "I will."

I reached into my pocket and squeezed the stone

And there you have it. If you haven't read those books then I suggest you do because each one of them is fabulous - be warned though because they'll more than likely bring a tear to your eye. I seemed to like books that made me sad last year. Maybe 2012 ought to be the year of laughter....

Happy Friday.

Always nice to see you, Watson

2012-01-06T03:45:00.000-08:00

Remus&Sirius. Kevin&Scotty.Kurt&Blaine. HOLMES&WATSON.

Anyone remember thisscene from the first Sherlock Holmes movie:

Holmes: You’ve never complained about my methodsbefore.
Watson: I’m notcomplaining.
Holmes: You’re not? Whatdo you call this?
Watson: I never complain! Howam I complaining? When do I ever complain about you practicing the violin atthree in the morning, or your mess, your general lack of hygiene, or the factthat you steal my clothes?
Holmes: Uh, we have abarter system…
Watson: When have I evercomplained about you setting fire to my rooms?
Holmes: Our rooms…
Watson: The rooms! Or, or, thefact that you experiment on my dog?
Holmes: Our dog…
Watson: The dog!
Holmes: Gladstone is ourdog!

Anyway. I saw The Game Of Shadows this week, which, Iloved and which pretty much made my week. It’s the highlight of 2012 thus far.

I read an interviewsomewhere on the t’interweb with Jude Law describing this film as a Rom-Comwith him and RDJ as the stars. How apt that is. It’s like the film is dancingaround singing ‘this is as gay as itcould be and you love it’ and youknow what?

It really is and Ireally do.

Fine, I love theaction scenes and the fight scenes and the scenes with the very big weapons[actual weapons, guys, that’s not a euphemism] too but what really makes thisfilm, for me, is the whole Holmes/Watson dynamic.

I mean, Sherlock at Watson’s wedding;Watson’s panic on the train when he thinks Holmes is dead; the ballroomdancing; the ‘always nice to see you, Watson’ [brought a lump to my throatalmost, that line]; Watson’s face when he watches Holmes and Moriaty fall; the banter; the looks; theread-between-the-lines-if-you-want-to subtleties; the ‘lie with meWatson’-esque not-so-subtleties [that whole train sequence almost made me squeal actually. I loved it] All ofthat, their whole relationship, sorry Watson, partnership is show-stoppingly good.

I’m not going to saythat Holmes and Watson are sleeping together secretly and Watson’s marriage toMary is a big fat Remus/Sirius/Tonks type of sham.* I'm not.

What I am going to say isthat the chemistry between these two characters is a million times moresizzling than that between Twishite’s Bella and Edward [which is tragic whenyou consider RPattz and Stewart are dating in real life] and thatchemistry is a large part of what makes this film so fabulous.

That and the fact that Downey Jr is seriouslysexy and spends a fair portion of the film either shirtless or deliciouslydishevelled and that Stephen Fry isgloriously Stephen Fry and has andthat every actor in the film has spot on comic timing and that Guy Ritchie isclearly a very clever man because the cinematography is excellent.

I loved this film.It’s laugh out loud funny and edge of your seat exciting and just so much fun.

In that spirit: Happy Friday.

*except that possibly maybe I am saying that. Or at least, Ihope that if anybody ever decides to marry me and their best man asks them why,their answer is less ‘because I want a relationship and the chance to start afamily and I don’t want to die alone’ and more ‘because I’m crazy in love withher.’ Just sayin’….

MERRY CHRISTMAS

2011-12-25T09:30:00.000-08:00

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

It really is though, isn't it? I lovelovelove Christmas. I love the festivities, I love the carols, I love the smell of the Christmas Tree, I love the presents - the giving, not the receiving, obviously ;) - I love it. I also love that it means just over a week of no work. Hurrah.

Ian and I are off to his Mum's shortly for a mahoosive Christmas dinner and lots of Daisy snuggles before heading over to my Mum's for salmon and games and Christmas banter. My Grandparents will be there too, which will be wonderful. I am feeling very festive.
I plan to spend this holiday season drinking mulled wine [and sherry because apparantly that's what I do now. I am officially old] and eating mince pies and singing along to Christmas songs at every available opportunity and reading and watching Harry Potter and going for long walks in the snow and spending lots of time with my family and my friends. It will be lovely, and I hope yours is too. I hope wherever you are and whatever you do you have a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year.

Hurrah for Christmas, hurrah hurrah hurrah.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

2011-12-16T04:08:00.000-08:00

& it will look more like Christmas when I finish work and Ian and I go and purchase a tree!! That's the plan for this afternoon/evening: buy a tree, keep all fingers and toes crossed that the electrician doesn't needto demolish the kitchen, trim the tree, decorate the house, wrap lots of presents and drink Baileys (Ian) and Lemsip (me) whilst listening to Michael Buble.

Lovely.

I am feeling very fesitve today actually, despite my germs. It's a combination of knowing we're getting the tree today, the fact it's all pretty and snowy outdoors, The Yule Ball in GoF which I am reading about at the moment and the fabulous Glee Christmas Special last night. I want to talk about that so much and bombard you all with photos of Kurt and Blaine and RoryLeprechaun and Mercedes but some people *cough* Helen *cough* haven't seen it yet and I am trying to be spoiler free so I won't. I'll just say it was all kinds of fabulous, Darren Criss and Chris Colfer deserve to win all the awards ever in life because they were absolutely spot on and made me laugh my socks off and yes, Merry Christmas.

Have a Friday photo because these are wise words:

All My Friends Are Superheroes.

2011-12-14T03:57:00.000-08:00

"What kind of love are we interested in today?" he asked.
"What kind do you have?"
"Well," he said. He stood up. "I've got the love you want, the love you think you want, the love you think you want but don't when you finally get it…"
"That must be very popular."
"It is."

You know where I want to live? I want to live here, in this world. I want to live in Toronto with 249 superheroes and no spandex.

This book is adorable. It’s a proper little gem of a story that I read in an hour last Wednesday and that just left me feeling happy.

The premise is fabulously quirky: Tom is the only non-superhero of his friends, but the superpowers they possess aren’t the ability to fly or inhuman strength or X-Ray vision; they’re more just exaggerations of their quirkier personality traits. I love that, I think it’s genius.

There's The FrogKisser for example who is blessed with the ability to transform geeks into winners, yet cursed with the reality that once she enables this transformation, the origin of her initial attraction is gone. Amazing. Or, or or or “MR OPPORTUNITY: He knocks on doors and stands there. You'd be surprised how few doors get answered.” Or even Mistress Cleanasyougo – “…the most powerful superhero of all, the one everyone wishes they were... at the end of the day, she folds her clothes. She never leaves scissors on the table, pens with no ink are thrown in the trash, wet towels are always hung up, dishes are washed directly after dinner and nothing is left unsaid…” Tell me any of that’s not GENIUS.

Tom is married to a superhero, ‘The Perfectionist,’ but he has a problem: he has been invisible but only to her since their wedding night and he only has the duration of the flight she is making to start her life over, without him, to make her see him.

This is a book about the human condition. It’s about unrequited love, and about confidence, about feeling invisible and that the people around you are somehow more than you are, that you are just you and everybody around you is somehow ‘a superhero,’ it’s about the good and the bad and the ugly that's inside everybody. This story, to me, is like a metaphor for life and it’s a wonderful study on human relationships and their complexities.

Above all though, It’s a clever, witty, poignant tribute to True Love and the bonus? It’s never saccharine.

IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!

I wish I’d read it sooner. I really wish I’d not done all my Christmas shopping because I want to gift this book TO THE WORLD. It’s precious.

Hello December

2011-12-08T06:11:00.001-08:00

Hello people!!

Hello and happy happy December! I am feeling rather festive at the moment, probably because I have just counted up and have only 8 working days left before Christmas.
Hurray and also hurrah.
Christmas is my favourite.

Tomorrow I am taking a Jo day. This means I will stay in bed til much later than 6.45am. I will wrap all (or most of) my Christmas presents, I will take my book and have lunch at Starbucks, I will dance around my house to Christmas tunes, I will go to Ikea and then I will call in on my friends T&S for sherry and mince pies. Hurrah for Jo days.

I have quite a bit of book news to share with you, but not today. I'll come back in a day or so and tell you about 'All My Friends Are Superheroes' which is adorable and about 'Girl In Translation' which I am reading right now. I'll also do some kind of 'hurrah for the amazeballs books of 2011' post too. That'll be nice won't it ;)
Seriously though, if you haven't already then you really should read 'All My Friends Are Superheroes.' I heart it.

Now that December is here I can re-read all my winter favourites: Harry Potter and Northern Lights and Alice and Little Women. This makes me happy. There's just something about Christmas that goes hand in hand with revisiting books you love. It wouldn't be Christmas if I didn't read Little Women.

I leave you with an early Friday photo (due to the aforementioned Jo day tomorrow) - reasons to love Maggie Smith: she gets the star of the entire Harry Potter franchise to hold her umbrella!

The Hunger Games

2011-11-24T02:07:00.000-08:00

I think I just fell in booklove.

Hard.

I’ve read 80 books so far this year, only a [small] handful them have fallen into the unputdownable category and The Hunger Games is one of them.

I read the first half of the first book the night before last, forced myself to stop because I knew I had work the next day and then lay in my dark bedroom wide awake and itching to carry on. The only reason I didn’t was because my boyfriend came to bed and wanted to be asleep! I finished it last night and then read half of the second book and again, didn’t want to stop. I don’t think I’ve done that since Harry Potter (oh, how I long for the days when a brand new Potter would land on my doorstep and I would lock the doors on the world for a few hours until I had devoured it. It makes me sad to think that will never happen again) and that’s saying something.

I’m not going to make a comparison between The Hunger Games and Harry Potter because that would make no sense, I’m just going to say this: that I haven’t felt as totally caught up in a book since the first time I read Harry Potter, maybe even other than Harry Potter. That’s how good these books are.

I like a bit of dystopian future fiction (thanks for that, Margaret Atwood) because if it’s well done, which luckily for me most of what I’ve read has been, it’s not an out there sci-fi story about a world far outside the realms of possibility, it’s more of a cautionary picture; a ‘look what could happen;’ a world that might not be round the next corner but could well be on the same stretch of road and that’s what you have here.

The world of The Hunger Games is a world that somehow you can just imagine, maybe not in the next ten or twenty years, maybe not even in your lifetime or your children’s lifetime but you can somehow see that it could happen, it could be real. The characters and their relationships, the reality television, the wealth juxtaposed alongside the poverty it’s all so familiar and all rather unnerving and whilst a world where 2 children are sent off to compete in the deadly Hunger Games seems totally out there you can’t quite shrug it off as utterly implausible. The very idea is barbaric and yet somehow it’s kind of recognisable and I half wonder if that’s part of the reason that I’ve gotten so involved in this story that I'm lost to the real world to the extent that there’s no point trying to talk to me when I’m reading [I wasn’t even interested in my hot milk at bedtime last night!]

These books are so so thought provoking, they have an intensely exciting plotline, complex and real characters, a full spectrum of emotions and a romance that pulls on your heartstrings. They make you think about survival and identity and relationships and life choices. The story grabs you and never lets go, the heroine gets under your skin, the supporting characters, Peeta and Cinna and Gale and Haymitch are all equally wonderfully drawn and despite the darkness and despair you never lose hope, it’s always there, flickering. I love that every chapter ends at a point that makes it impossible to stop reading; I love the romance; I love the story; I love the way it makes my heart race and then within seconds has me with tears in my eyes; I love the way it just gets to me and how it’s left my thoughts all jumbled. I love how I can’t wait to read the rest of book two and then probably book three straight after.

Amazing.

In which Breaking Dawn is terrible

2011-11-22T00:18:00.001-08:00

Forever is only the beginning....says the Breaking Dawn trailer. Thanks for the warning.

Those of you who know me will be aware of my feelings towards The Twilight Saga and towards Breaking Dawn in particular. If you aren't and you wish to familiarise yourself with my feelings, I ranted about it here:

http://livetoreadreadtolive.blogspot.com/2011/08/day-11-book-you-hated.html

In a nutshell I thought it was a poorly written excuse for a book that sends out shocking messages to it's teenage readership. It made me angry; it still makes me angry so it should perhaps come as no surprise that my feelings towards the film adaptation, the first part of which I saw last night, are less than positive.

By 'less than positive' I mean that I didn't think it was possible for a film to be that bad.

Why?

- It was slow - I found myself checking my watch several times which is never a good sign and I'm pretty sure had we gone to a later showing I'd have been asleep. [& yes, I know I fall asleep during films a lot of (all of) the time, but not generally at the cinema and it's ususally because I am tired and not because staying awake seems like one trial too much.]

- It was depressing and not so much because of the storyline (although yes, that was several shades of terrible) as because of the mediocre acting - I don't think I've come across anybody quite as wet as Kristin Stewart in my entire life, she's so dreary and her voice sets my teeth on edge. Eurgh. & Kristin and Robert are dating? Really? For real really? I have more chemistry with broccoli than she does with her actual boyfriend (and I hate broccoli.) Also Carlisle got fat which is depressing in itself, like Michael Buble - he got a little tubby too, did anybody else notice that at the CINRocks concert? Buble is defo tubbier in the face, another depressing fact but perhaps one for another day. (Note: I am not comparing Breaking Dawn to Buble. Never ever. I'm just easily distracted is all.)

- It was funny, which would be a plus if we were talking about a comedy. Somehow I think 'so bad it's funny' is not going to be the best selling point. I think Helen and I shared the cinema with some Twilight diehards - there were a few Breaking Dawn hoodies knocking about the foyer - so I felt a little bad at the way we kept bursting into laughter at what were probably supposed to be the tense dramatic exciting scenes. Whoops. Seriously though, there's this one scene for example where the werewolves are in wolf form and so can only communicate via their thoughts. They're having some big showdown over whether the pack should kill Bella and her unborn vampire baby and you know it's supposed to be edge-of-your-seat intense but oh my LORD it's funny. I shouldn't laugh, I shouldn't: but seriously, a huge chunk of dialouge SPOKEN BY WOLVES WITH ECHO VOICES? We're really supposed to take that shit seriously?

- There is a lot of background music slow motion "look how pretty Rpattz is/how much Bella loves Edward/how much Jacob loves Bella none-action. Oh man, there's a lot of that. Those were the parts that made time feel like it was going backwards, slowly. Like Helen said, it's to be hoped the scriptwriters weren't paid a lot because they clearly didn't do much! Miaow.

As for the plotline, well, I knew what I was letting myself in for and Breaking Dawn didn't disappoint. The things that made me angry in the book made me really really really uncomfortable on the big screen: the trashed bedroom and Bella's bruises after their wedding night and the way she begs Edward to have sex with her again was horrible but hardly anything compared to the pregnancy - the whole pregnancy stuff (and so the majority of the film) was just shocking.

The wedding was enough to put anybody off bothering; I for one am certainly reviewing my options! It was more like a funeral, with only Bella's white dress to give the game away and she looked like the unhappiest bride in the history of brides, its fine though because Edward whisked her away on a fancy dancy honeymoon after which would have been lovely had she married someone normal, less lovely given that she woke the morning after losing her virginity to a trashed bedroom and a load of bruises.
Nice.
What was nicer to watch was Edward's torment and Bella's telling him how happy she was about it and begging him to do it all again. In the real world this would be classed as an abusive relationship but it seems that's not the case if the abuser is undead. That was lovely stuff.

As for the whole vampire baby issue, I don't even know what to say. It was horrible. It starts with Bella standing up to hug Jacob, her t-shirt rides up and you get a blink and you'll miss it glimpse of her bruised bump. That was bad enough. From there we actually get to see the foetus killing Bella from the inside, there's a graphic scene where her bones snap and by the time she gives birth she's skeletal, like actually skeletal, sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, grey skin, bones jutting out all over the place. It's disturbing and hard to watch and I actually couldn't believe I was.

& then Jacob 'imprinted' on the newborn in some weird arse dream sequence freak scene. Can't beat a nice healthy bit pf paedophilia after two hours of wife-beating and killer!baby. Don't even get me started on that.

Somebody please please tell me how any of the messages this film/book/pile of shite are sending out are any kind of acceptable. Please.

This whole franchise is f*cked up on so many levels and I STILL fail to understand how people fail to see that, how it's been allowed to become what it has; I'd quite like to Avada Kedavra whoever's responsible for that, actually.
I blame Stephenie Meyer.
Get married at 18 even though it doesn't seem like you're really sure, cut yourself off from your parents, let your boyfriend beat you in the name of passion or love or whatever (the same boyfriend who abandoned you to months of self pity after he left you because of a paper cut) and then let your unborn child kill you, slowly and painfully. Way to go with the messages to your teen audience Twilight, way to go.

The only vaguely redeeming feature about the whole sorry mess was the 30 seconds or so of the film where RPattz was smiling. He is such a pretty boy when he smiles.

“When you're a kid, it's hard to tell the innocuous secrets from the ones that will kill you if you keep them.”

2011-11-18T01:41:00.000-08:00

I really liked this book. It’s a book I read off the back of a recommendation; it kept coming up on my Amazon page, and I’d picked it up a few times and pondered over it and then Jen said “READ IT” and I generally do as she says so I did. Thank goodness.

My older sister has entire kingdoms inside of her, and some of them are only accessible at certain seasons, in certain kinds of weather. One such melting occurs in summer rain, at midnight, during the vine-green breathing time right before sleep. You have to ask the right question, throw the right rope bridge, to get there-and then bolt across the chasm between you, before your bridge collapses.

St Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves is a short story collection about troubled children on the verge of adolescence I guess, but it’s also more than that.

All the stories are set on the same island which I’ve read is supposed to be in the Everglades, but I don’t know how accurate that is, and almost all of them are wonderful. They’re imaginative and witty and clever and moving and at times very unsettling and they’re sometimes barely believable at the same time as being utterly real.

You’ve got the title story of a boarding school tryin to humanise little girls raised by wolves and a gorgeous story of two little boys who set sail in a crab shell to find the ghost of their sister (that one is my favourite I think)

Granana doesn't understand what the big deal is. She didn't cry at Olivia's funeral, and I doubt she even remembers Olivia's name. Granana lost, like, ninety-two million kids in childbirth. All of her brothers died in the war. She survived the Depression by stealing radish bulbs from her neighbors' garden, and fishing the elms for pigeons. Dad likes to remind us of this in a grave voice, as if it explained her jaundiced pitilessness: "Boys. Your grandmother ate pigeons.”

You've got a camp for people with sleep disorders, (I suspect if I lived on that island I'd be carted off there) ice skating apes and an alligator theme park, and an achingly touching story about the ‘Out To Sea’ retirement home, and each and every one (except maybe the story about the minotaur) is suberbly crafted.

Russell is clearly a very skilled writer and some of her description is just…take this:

Mr. Pappadakis smells like Just for Men peroxide dye and eucalyptus foot unguents. He has a face like a catchers mitt. The whole thing puckers inward, drooping with the memory of some dropped fly ball.

I just love that.

Karen Russell has created a collection of solid characters and situations that are unreal enough to grab your attention yet real enough for you to be able to relate to them and the language and turn of phrase, the way she works her words is fabulous fabulous. It’s the perfect example really, of all that is good about the short story although they did all leave me wanting more, which is why I was very pleased to find out that there is a novel length version of the first story. That went straight on my Christmas list!

Read it, please.

the list

2011-11-17T04:44:00.001-08:00

Following on from my post yesterday, here is a list (in no particular order) of the things I think are beautiful:

first words
old books
Dirty Dancing
kittens
bruises
pencil drawings
tattoos
alice in wonderland
laughter
hammocks
coffee
puddles
courage
red hair
rollercoasters
letters
cat paws
crows feet
over-sized jumpers
smiles
tears
scars
rainy mornings
storm clouds
gingerbread
patchwork quilts
streetlights
quiet
the sound and the smell and the feel of the sea
old photographs
hips
autumn
anger
old coca-cola bottles
sorrow
puffins
songs
my Mum
eyes
sunsets
the insides of wrists
freckles
you. you, always you.
sunflowers
pebble beaches
lakes
my grandpa’s smile

on beauty

2011-11-15T09:01:00.000-08:00

You ever have one of those days where things just seem, well, shitty?

I have had earache for 4 days and something that keeps threatening to be flu but that isn’t man enough to make good on it’s threats, for a week. It’s dark when I wake up in a morning and it’s dark when I leave my office at night. I am busier than a busy person, like really. I have no money. Currently, life is not my favourite. I am more than a little grumpy.

I decided, not wanting to wallow in a vat of my own self pity because it tastes like cold coffee (and not coffee that’s supposed to be cold, like iced coffee. I like that. I mean coffee that’s been on your desk for an hour longer than you thought, that you take a big f*ckoff mouthful of expecting it to be hot when it’s actually beyond cold and tastes vile) that I had two options:

Option 1. I could write something suitably angsty.

Option 2. I could cheer the hell up.

I’ma go with option 2 because you know what, when I actually get a grip and look around me and I am surrounded by just, by beauty and that’s something to be celebrated right?

& I’m sat here and I’m thinking about just that.

About beauty.

What is beautiful? What makes us beautiful? And I don’t just mean in an ‘oh that’s pretty’ kind of way, I mean on a deeper level than that. Think about the things in life that really really move you. The ordinary and the extraordinary, the usual and the not so usual. The things that whilst not perhaps conventionally beautiful just creep under your skin and stay there, the things that matter, that directly or indirectly shape the bigger (beautiful) picture and make it all worthwhile, that scream emotion and tell a story and make things what they are. Not just cupcakes and flowers and new shoes but heartbreak and thunderstorms and the old man at the Cenotaph on Remembrance Day with a poppy in his lapel; the things in life that are really really beautiful.

This is going nowhere.

You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to make a list of things that I think are beautiful so that whenever I’m tired or I have earache or it’s cold and I have no gloves or the pile of work on my desk seens insurmountable I can look at it and I can smile because people should take more notice of the beautiful things.

(and then I’m going to go and write something suitably angsty.)

in which i am sick

2011-11-11T04:43:00.001-08:00

Another week over, already. I can't actually believe it's almost the middle of November and therefore almost Christmas. Eeek.

I don't have a lot to report, actually. This week has been a bit of a none-starter due to my being a little under the weather and feeling rather sorry for myself. I have spent significant amounts of time on my sofa under a patchwork quilt which whilst comforting for me, makes for a less than interesting blog post.

I did see The Help at the cinema on Tuesday, which was fun. I loved that book and I really liked the film too. It was extremely well cast and very well done and the costumes were fabulous. I had a very nice time and was pleasantly surprised. I'm always a little wary of adaptations of books I've liked but this one was a success so hurrah for that.

I leave you this weekend with some Ron and Hermione because I'm poorly and cannot seem to blog through it and Ron and Hermione are cute and make me feel better and I'm hoping that blinding you with cute will stop you from frowning upon the rubbishness of this post.
Have a lovely weekend.
Happy Friday.

Happy Friday. Ooo-Arrr (like a pirate)

2011-10-28T04:14:00.000-07:00

Is there such a thing as too much Milkybar? They were selling the 'sharing' bars for £1 at the petrol station and I may or may not have bought one and well, not shared. & now I feel sick. Whoops.

Well, here we are again. Friday. Another week gone and another week closer to Christmas (which I am in no way prepared for, by the way.) I'm off to my friend Jane's this afternoon/evening where I shall play with her super adorable little girl and we shall drink coffee and gossip. Lovely.
Tomorrow is the family dinner party. Eeeek. & then I think on Sunday I shall mostly be asleep. I'm looking forward to it all. Ok, I'm slightly stressing about tomorrow but I'm sure it'll all be fine. It'll be fine, right? Right?

I just have this fear that the food will be a disaster and that the whole affair will be punctuated by awkward silences that I don't know how to break. STRESSSTRESSSTRESS.

Let's not think about it.

Let's instead celebrate the start of the weekend with a little bit of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow because everybody knows that makes everything better.

Also, ~~Darren Criss~~ Glee is back next week. Dance with me?

Happy Friday.

in which i am feeling jolly (if not a little cold)

2011-10-26T04:17:00.000-07:00

I can't believe we're halfway through the week already! Seriously, this week seems to be flying by. I looked at my watch at about half past 11 this morning and nearly keeled over; I honestly expected it to only be about 9.30.
I shall have to work faster I think if I don't want time to get away from me. I could always just sit back and let it go of course, but that's hardly productive is it?

I am in a good mood today bloggers, because I am planning a weekend in London town with the rather spesh Jen, not til after Christmas but since I haven't actually seen this girl since our summer excursion in '09 I think I'm entitled to get excited now. I have no idea what the weekend will entail but I suspect there will be winter Pimms and yummy food and books and giggles and photographs aplenty. I also suspect we shall walk on Hampstead Heath (and not get lost like we have maybe been known to do before!) Whatever happens it will be lovely lovely and the prospect of it is making me very happy because look how much we love each other *points to photo*

In other news, this weekend I am having a meeting of the families. Ha. By that I mean that I have taken it upon myself to cook for my parents and brother and Ian's parents and sister. I think I might have taken temporary leave of my senses if not only because there will be 8 of us present and I only have 6 dining chairs.....

It's Friday

2011-10-20T04:12:00.000-07:00

Haha. I love this. Look at Archimedes.

I am a very big fan of The Sword in the Stone, actually. It reminds me of lazy winters days on the sofa with a quilt and some of those potato trianges they used to sell at ASDA. Does anyone else remember those? No? Oh well, they were amazing and I loved them.

We had the movie on video, not a shop bought one but one we'd taped off the TV. Disney's Robin Hood (another favourite) was on before it, you had to fast forward that to get to this and I watched it so many times that it was a little fuzzy in parts and I knew Merlin's "Higutus Figutus" song by heart. I class this as one of my greatest achivements actually because it's not an easy song to learn, it's right up there with "Substitutiary Locomotion" from Bedknobs and Broomsticks (I know that one off by heart too. I know all of B&B by heart but that' another story....)
Anyway, I found this clip and got all nostalgic and wanted to save it so figured I'd save it here!
Happy Friday!!

We accept the love we think we deserve.

2011-10-19T04:06:00.000-07:00

"Sometimes, I look outside, and I think that a lot of other people have seen this snow before. Just like I think that a lot of other people have read those books before. And listened to those songs.
I wonder how they feel tonight."

"The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" is one of those books that I've been meaning to read for ages. One of those books that I've heard about and that people have told me I should read but that I've just never gotten round to picking up because there's always something else that catches my eye and in all honesty I doubted it would live up to the hype.

"The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" is one of those books that I really really wish I'd read sooner. I loved it. I read it wanting to see what all the fuss was about. Now I know. & I want to read it again.

I've read a lot of good books this year, I think I've said that before. I've read a lot of books that have made me think and that have stayed with me but this one, it's different. It's a couple of weeks now since I finished it and I still can't get it out of my head, I can't stop thinking about it; there are quotes, lines and passages that keep coming back to me and making me feel like a heavy weight has settled somewhere in the middle of my chest. It's a beautiful beautiful book: the characters are beautiful, the language is beautiful, the message is beautiful and I just...loved it.

In a nutshell, it's the story of a fifteen year old boy, Charlie. It follows him through a year in his life, through a series of letters he writes to an somebdoy whose identity is never revealed.

Charlie is all kinds of wonderful. He doesn't want to let go of his childhood but at the same time he wants to grow up; he's caught in that no-mans land that we all go through at some point, balancing on the cusp of adulthood and knowing that when you finally jump nothing will ever be the same again.
He's clever and compassionate and senstive and massively messed up and he has this unique way of expressing himself that at times made me wonder, particularly at the start of the book, whether he was autistic; whether at the very least he was suffering from a high-functioning form of Asperger's because he seemed like a very young, very naive 15 year old. I never was and have never met a 15 year old like Charlie, he is absolutely not your average teenage boy yet (and this is part of the magic) at the same time he really is.
We follow him through a world of suicide and bullying and first love and lost love and friendship and a depression that breaks your heart and as I read I fell in love with this slightly damaged kid a little bit, a lot, because despite the fact that Chobsky's narrative style and the way Charlie's peers react to him make him seem more like a kid of 12 at times, he also has this maturity that makes him seem older than his years, this outlook on life that's like a smack in the face sometimes.

There's no convuluted vocab, no over-complicated plot, no complex descriptions, it's all so so simple and the way Charlie's thoughts are juxtaposed against his actions; his ability to look so much deeper than what he first sees or hears alongside his struggle to fit in with the people he wants to call his friends, shows who he is so effectively.

I'm really not making any sense am I? This is probably the crappest most garbled review I ever wrote. I blame the lack of coffee in my life today for my inability to be coherent.

I think my point is, when I was doing that OU course the other year ago my tutor was very big on 'show don't tell.' It was like her mantra or something and she was right because to as a writer, a good writer, you have no tool more powerful than the ability to show and not tell.
'The Perks Of Being A Wallflower' is one of the best examples of showing and not telling that I have ever come across.

You know what else I keep thinking? I really really wish I'd read this book when I was fifteen. Not because my high school experience was like Charlie's, much, but because, I don't know because it made me feel things differently and it would have been good I think, to have felt these things back then.

Again with the no sense.

It's like....it's like I'm 28 and I'm about to read this book about a 15 year old American school boy and I'm thinking there's no way I'm going to be able to relate to this story and then I actually read it and Charlie makes all these observations and I find myself just knowing somehow exactly where he's at. It's like sitting down and having a talk with a friend that you didn't know you needed until you realised things seemed better and I just think it's one of those books that I love now but that would have made a difference back then & whilst it's hardcore: drama after drama after drama, angst following angst following angst, the tone of this novel is absolutely spot on. It never felt deep and heavy and depressing. It's so frigging beautiful too. There were so many parts of it that I just wanted to quote, that I wanted to read aloud, that I wanted everybody in the world to share.

& I am so tempted to just delete this entire post and come back another time when I am caffeinated and able to do it justice but I've written it now. Besides, there's always the chance that this is garbled and nonsensical because I am garbled and nonsensical and if that's the case then this might be the best I can do *shrug*
If you haven't already then go read this book and then get a teensy bit excited about the film (starring Emma Watson) because that's just what I did.

I'm going to put the kettle on......

it's friday and Jen is doing the 100 poem challenge

2011-10-14T00:51:00.001-07:00

I’ve been a bit under the weather this week, so the majority of the time I’ve not spent working has been spent sleeping and still I am tired. Ian and I were supposed to go and see ‘The Three Musketeers’ last night but instead I was asleep by 9.30. Poor Ian. I slept Wednesday night away too. I haven’ even done any reading; I’ve been on page 36 of my book (Murakimi’s South of the Boder, West of the Sun) since Tuesday. Most unlike me.

I did see my Grandparents last night though, which was lovely. It was my Grandpa’s birthday on Wednesday so we called round with a card and chocolates and had a catch up, that was a giggle.

& Monday marked my ten year anniversary at work. Yup, that’s right people, I have been working here *gestures around self* for a whole ten years and four days. How about that. I was feeling quite sentimental about it on Monday, if I’d had time I probably would have blogged about how even though there’s been times when I’ve been utterly utterly miserable deep down I feel a sense of achievement at how far I’ve come and how actually from office junior to the desk I have today is pretty darn good and things are better at work right now than they’ve ever been and hurrah for me. I didn’t have time though, which is probably lucky for anybody reading this as it would have been a truly yawn-worthy post. I did get a new watch out of it though, a very pretty one too (I have it on good authority that it was chosen by my boss’s wife. Ha.)

Whilst I’m here I’ll quickly point you in the direction of the fabulous Jen Campbell’s fundraising page. Jen is a good friend of mine, she’s a bookseller and writer (her book, as I’ve mentioned before, is out early next year) and has a very rare genetic condition called EEC Syndrome. It’s so rare that people in the medical world don’t even have any statistics for it as such, s’just rare. Not a lot is known about it, new things are being uncovered all the time such as the way it affects the cornea meaning Jen, and other people with EEC might lose their sight. So, Jen being Jen and not one to sit around feeling sorry for herself, has decided to try and raise some money for EEC Italia, who research not just EEC but lots of other conditions. She’s doing this not by a bake-off or a sponsored walk but by writing 100 poems in 1 weekend. That’s right, 100 actual poems. (Seriously, she has so much damn talent that if she wasn’t so cute I’d probably hate her!) Miles did the maths and has calculated something ridiculous like a poem every fifteen minutes, which you have to admit is pretty impressive. So, I ask you to click this link, read what Jen has to say; she’s much more eloquent than me, watch the video if it takes your fancy and please pledge some money even if it’s only $1 (it has to be dollars; the site is American) because it really is a worthy cause and every little helps. Fanks.

& Happy Friday.

Yes Mark, yes, it's VERY VERY COOL. I wanna see where Molly killed Bellatrix. Take me?

2011-10-13T08:05:00.001-07:00

Those of you who have known me long enough may remember my crush on Ben Mills.

Ben Mills was an X-Factor contestant a few years ago. He was all long hair and rock ballads and totally my type; I loved him from his first audition. He was pretty enough to look at and his voice was just this gravelly kind of heaven. I swear, when that man sang I forgot how to breathe. It was ridiculous how much I loved him; how badly I wanted him to win the competition (he didn’t; he lost to Leona.) He did release an album though which I bought, and played and played and thought I could listen to his gravelly perfection forever. I wonder where that CD is…..?

Anyway, the point is I had it bad for this guy, for this guys voice but I got over it and (not including my Take That love because that’s like actual musical love that has lasted for over half of my life) I’ve not had a crush on anyone that much since because I grew up and I’m 28 and I have a boyfriend and a mortgage and 28 year old people with boyfriends and mortgages do not have crushes.

And herein lies my problem:

Darren Criss sings 'Misery' for Rolling Stone.

it's Friday. Have a cute Brothers & Sisters clip.

2011-10-07T01:33:00.000-07:00

Friday: the perfect time to spread a little bit more Brothers & Sisters love, mainly because I was watching it last night. This time the little clip is in the shape of Kitty and Robert (Calista Flockhart and Rob Lowe) I mean seriously, look how cute these guys are. Looky looky.

In other news, the week is over (thank goodness) and in an hour and a half I shall be leaving the office and heading home for a weekend of fun fun times. We're having belated birthday celebrations tonight for my Mum (her birthday was in July!) so Mum and Dad and Helen and Drew are heading over to mine and we're going for chinese food which will be lovely. Saturday Ian and I are off to visit our friends Mark and Andrea. We plan to stay in and play board games because we're cool like that and then Sunday I have a coffee date with Jayne and baby Daisy. Fabulous.

I'm reading 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' at the moment which I have to say is rather lovely, so hopefully I'll finish that and come back to leave a review of some sorts.

Happy Friday.

day 24: a book you wish more people would read

2011-10-06T08:09:00.000-07:00

I will willingly admit that the sole reason for my reading The Late Hector Kipling was that it was written by the wonderful David Thewlis, and you know what, I am glad of that. The cover of this book is grotesque and if it wasn’t written by David then I probably wouldn’t have ever picked it up and just think what I would be missing out on.

So, what’s it about?

“Hector Kipling has everything to live for: he is a talented artist with loving parents, a beautiful girlfriend, dependable mates and good health. But when Kirk Church, one of his best friends, and a habitual painter of cutlery, announces that he may have a brain tumour, the prospect of a character-building bereavement, with all the attendant suffering and sympathy, is a little too difficult for Hector to resist. Will it make him a better artist? Will it make him as successful as his friend Lenny Snook, who fills limousines with blood and has just been nominated for the Turner Prize? As events begin to unravel it doesn’t take long for Hector’s charmed world to fall completely and irreparably apart.

From settees to stalkers, con men to corpses, paranoid self-portraits to S&M, The Late Hector Kipling is an irreverent and candid exploration of life, death, art and everything in between. “

Why do I like it? The Late Hector Kipling is one of those books that you just want to share; you kind of want to stand up and say ‘hey listen, this book is totally under-rated. You might not have heard of it, but it’s great,” because it really is. It’s dark and satirical and clever and funny and it shows Mr. Thewlis is not only a fabulous actor, he can write too. He creates a main character that you don’t like but that you’re fascinated with all the same, his characterisation is clever and his dialogue feels….I don’t know. Real. This novel feels personal – sometimes a little too personal – and it feels real at the same time as feeling utterly absurd and perhaps it’s because it’s written in first person but reading Hector Kipling kind of gives you that feeling of looking at something you shouldn’t; you know you shouldn’t stare but somehow you just can’t peel your eyes away. It’s a car-crash book.

It’s not a book that everybody will love, at all, but it’s definitely a book that I really wish more people would read.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Success

2011-10-05T03:51:00.000-07:00

The only reason I had any interest in watching Tinker Tailor Solider Spy was the cast (Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, Mark Strong, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hardy et al.) I will hold up my hands and admit that willingly.

In fact, the only reason I read the book was that I knew there was a film and I knew the cast was spectacular. I was totally biased. In all honesty, as I think I’ve mentioned before, I found the book hard going, so hard going that I almost gave up on it several times and whilst I finished it thinking I’d maybe enjoyed it, I was dubious about seeing the film and I fully expected to be as befuddled and exhausted at the end of it as I was after the book.

I was surprised.

A lot is cut from the book, something I usually gripe about but this time I firmly believe this to be to advantage of the film – there is no way on earth that the enormous amount of detail that the novel holds could ever be shown in all it’s debatable glory, unless of course a brain-frying 7 hour film is your cup of tea. It isn’t mine and so I liked the way the book was edited: I like the elements that were kept and I liked that the book ending that has you gritting your teeth because you’ve hung on for so many hours just to still be left hanging is not the film ending; loose ends are tied up and I like that.

Be aware, if you plan to go and see Tinker, Tailor that this is not a bond-esque spy movie; there isn’t so much as a hint of glamour. The world of Tinker Tailor is grey and dull. It’s a world of run down offices seen through a haze of cigarette smoke and full not of Sean Connery style suave sophistication but of edgy, anxious over-worked men (and Kathy Burke.) In one scene Colin Firth rides a bicycle into the office; James Bond never did that. It’s the perfect setting really for the events of the film to play out: this story of doubted loyalty, of humiliation and of betrayal (so much betrayal) just wouldn’t work any other way. Despite the intricacies of the plot the film doesn’t lose pace because there is no pace; it’s almost slow motion, so slowly does the tale unfold and despite making my brain work harder than it usually likes to at the cinema, I was gripped from start to finish.

& what of the cast? Gary Oldman is fantastic, properly fantastic (of course) as Smiley, the agent brought out of retirement to try and find a mole at the top of the Secret Service. His portrayal of Smiley’s cold hard determination and barely disguised emotional pain is understatedly spot on; without him ever coming out and just saying it, you know that he’s angry and embarrassed by the way he was retired from the service, you know that he will find the mole if it kills him, you know how deeply he loves his wife, you know how hurt he is, not only by the professional betrayal of the mole but by the personal betrayal of a colleague sleeping with his wife. Every single emotion is unvoiced yet tangible and this is proof I think of the calibre of actor Oldman is. I was totally sold on his performance, totally and utterly.

Colin Firth makes a convincing Haydon, (although I did chuckle when in his first scene he called somebody a ‘prick’ – it didn’t seem right somehow, coming from Firth. Ha.) and his scenes with Mark Strong’s Prideaux, particularly at the end, were moving to say the least. There's a scene near the end at a Christmas party where the two of them exchange a look which just got me somehow, and then there's their final scene. More of that unvoiced emotion. Poor poor Prideaux.

Benedict Cumberbatch was fabulous – quote of the night from Helen “I think I love Benedict Cumberbatch even more now, even if he is ginger” I do love that girl. – and Tom Hardywas v good as Ricky Tarr. I did feel sorry for Ricky - falling in love with someone else’s wife, classed as a defector and then after the event offering his help in exchange for a false promise. Smiley was a very bad man lying to him about the woman he loved like that. Bad bad George Smiley.

Don’t be fooled: this is not an easy watch; it’s no light relief. It’s complicated and it requires your constant concentration and my brain was hurting by the time the credits started rolling but it was worth it. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is an unexpectedly good film, ~~much better than the book~~.

Tell me why I don't like Mondays

2011-10-03T13:04:00.001-07:00

I am not a fan of this week. I feel like I am coming down from a massive high and in comparison to the past week it's all a bit s**t.

Last week I spent 4 days in Abersoch; I only spent 3 days in the office; I went out for Tapas; I spent the day with Helen and our respective Mums; I saw Sister Act and sat 5 seats away from Stephen Fry; I got lots of Daisy cuddles and I saw Phantom of the Opera for the first time.

This week I am in the office 5 days and have a LOT of work, I have tummy ache and tomorrow I have to go to the dentist (in case you didn't know, the dentist is my Kryptonite!)
Talk about going from one extreme to the other. Boo.

Ian has gone to the garage so I am curled up in massive PJ bottoms with a monkey print and a Dirty Dancing t-shirt, cuddling Jasper, reading 'Perks Of Being A Wallflower,' drinking hot Vimto and eating salted chocolate. Ok, you're right. Maybe it's not that bad after all....actually, wait, I still have to go to the dentist tomorrow - it is that bad, and then some. Woe really is me.

For you, a thousand times over

2011-10-02T01:00:00.000-07:00

"Children aren't coloring books. You don't get to fill them with your favorite colors"

I've read so many good books this year. So so many and The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini is another. It's just....beautiful. It's graphic and it's heartbreaking and it's tragic but it's also beautiful and poignant and hopeful. I am so mad at myself for waiting so long to read this.

"she had a voice that made me think of warm milk and honey"

I was speechless when I finished reading this book. I laid my Kindle beside me on the bed and just sort of stared for a while. It was one of those books that just left me not quite knowing how I felt. I'd read it slowly because I didn't want to finish it; I didn't want to leave Amir and Hassan and Baba and that world behind. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know everything.
I've read a lot of books this year that have broken me a little bit; it's not been a year for light relief and The Kite Runner is no different. It made me so so sad; it left me several times with a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye and there were several occasions where I had to take a deep breath and bite my lip just to be able to keep on reading. I guess any story told against the backdrop of pre-war and post-Taliban occupation Afghanistan was always going to have that effect; was always going to be haunting.

"...and I would walk by, pretending not to know her, but dying to."

All I knew of Afghanistan before I read Hosseini's work (both this and A Thousand Splendid Suns) was what I read and seen in the news and whilst I'm not going to profess to be any kind of expert now, I certainly feel like I've had my eyes opened. I mean, I'm not an idiot. I read the news, I know things aren't good over there and I know they've not been good for a long time and I know that ultimately this is a work of fiction but it's rooted in truth and reading books like this make things hit home perhaps not harder but differently to reading news reports and you become aware of things that you might otherwise not have even considered.

"It turned out that, like satan, cancer had many names."

It is, at times a brutal book and every single time a passage was hard to read I felt guilty because however hard it was for me to read I couldn't help think, for example, about the people who actually lived under Taliban rule, people for whom this wasn't fiction but reality.But please, if you haven't read this book, don't let the fact that it will without a doubt make you sad put you off, please, because this book is so much more than a tear-jerker; ultimately it's a story of redemption and the emotions and relationships Hosseini created were rich and honest. It's a fantastic read.

"The first time I saw the Pacific, I almost cried."

Hosseini's chracterisation is incredible. Take Amir. As a person he's not always particularly likeable, at times he's the opposite. If someone was to tell you about a snobbish little boy who likes to play with a little servant boy but only if nobody is around; who he never calls his friend, who he'll tease and ridicule for his own amusement and who he won't stand up and protect from a vicious attack, you'd think he sounded like an awful spoilt brat and I suppose to a certain extent he is but in a literary sense he's a really great character. Amir is so so well written, so well written and is so well developed, so deep that you can see past his cruelty to Hassan, you really get to know this troubled vulnerable little boy so desperate for the affection of his father and whilst you can't condone the things he does you can't help but sympathise with him, care for him and ulitmately be proud of him.

"Proud. His eyes gleamed when he said that and I liked being on the receiving end of that look."

There were so many things to love about this book, so very many. As we follow Amir from the 70's to a year or so after 9/11 The Kite Runner never loses pace, or vision. We learn about Afghanistan in the 70's, the lives the people lived before the arrival of the Russians and with hindsight we are are flabbergasted by the initial reactions to the arrival of the Taliban - how they were welcomed at first, how they drove the Russians out and many Afghans were grateful thinking this would be the start of a new dawn for their country; the beginning of a better time. From there the descriptions of Afghani life, of the Taliban, of the atrocities commited are nothing less than frightening, and extremely hard to read but still the book never loses hope, you as the reader are never allowed to lose hope. As for the ending, I don't think I've ever wanted to hug a child so much in my entire life.

"America was a river, roaring along unmindful of the past. I could wade into this river, let my sins drown to the bottom, let the waters carry me someplace far. Someplace with no ghosts, no memories, and no sins. If for nothing else, for that I embraced America."

Whilst Hosseini doesn't shy away from the fanatical side of Afghanistan he also paints a beautiful human picture of the other side. The Kabul he draws with it's pomegrante trees and markets and kabobs and kite-running competitions is of a tightly knit community that anybody would love to be, would be proud to be a part of. The community spirit of these people in Afghanistan, then in Pakistan and later in America is heart-warming, it makes you believe and whilst this is a sad story, sad because of what was lost in it's pages and what it reminds us has been and still is endured it's also a wonderful one. The characters and the world they live in are warm and colourful, the message of determination and hope and redemption is inspring and I know it will stay with me for a long long time.

"He walked like he was afraid to leave behind footprints. He moved as if not to stir the air around him."

On a lighter note, you know what I realised reading this book? That Ian could never be an Afghan for no other reason than that they share the endings of films. Anyone who has witnessed my boyfriend covering his ears with a "don't tell me ANYTHING" would know that if he lived in a culture where the question asked of somebody returning from the cinema was "how does it end" well, it just wouldn't be pretty. Ha.

"...and when she locked her arms around my neck, when I smelled apples in her hair, I realized how much I had missed her. 'You're still the morning sun to me...' I whispered."

day 23: your guilty pleasure

2011-09-30T02:55:00.000-07:00

I think you could probably quite safely say that vampires are my guilty pleasure, not just in books but generally.
& I'm not talking vampires that sparkle in the sun here, I'm talking actual proper vampires; yes I know, that's as much of an oxymoron as the term 'living dead' itself but you know what I mean, right?
I don't know what the appeal is. I remember getting an LJ Smith book free with a magazine when I was about 14. It was about this teenage girl who was dying of cancer and her vampire boyfriend who was all immortal and intense and could read her mind when she drank him blood & then I watched 'Interview With The Vampire' (remember that film??) and something sort of stuck. There's something about the vampire that's just.....sexy.
Is that weird?
It's totally all to do with the way they're portrayed: they're dramatic and powerful; they're sexy in a dangerous passionate kind of way and 9/10 times they're beautiful. They either look beautiful (Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, Gary Oldman, RPattz [come on guys, you can't deny that RPattz is a beautiful young man] Ian Somerhlader etc) or they are described as being beautuful and thus are so in my head which brings me to my guilty pleasure in the book world: The Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris.

The Sookie books are the inspiration for the TV series True Blood and tell the story of a telepathic barmaid from Louisiana, living in a world where vampires are living 'out of the coffin' and trying to integrate themselves with society.

They're complete trash.

I love them.

They're 100% totally and completely unrealistic. They're overly dramatic. The plotlines are so insane that they're almost laughable. If they weren't about vampires then I probably wouldn't give them the time of day but that is not the case, instead I have some kind of 'V' addiction so I can easily lose myself for a couple of hours (because that's all they take to read) in Bon Temps, because the vampires, Bill and Eric, are beautiful in my head; there's a cute shapeshifter and a fit werewolf; theres' lots of hotvampiresex;Sookie is actually a pretty awesome protaganist and a pretty good role model in that she is alwaysalways prepared to fight for what she believes in, and every book in the series (so far) has contained enough edge-of-the-seat drama and mystery and romance and humour to keep the pages turning.

I know these books aren't great but I also know I like them and that's what matters, isn't it?

This whole 'guilty pleasure' thing also links quite nicely into my Friday Photo. That beautiful man in the corner of this post is the star of my televisual guilty pleasure "The Vampire Diaries" and yes, he plays a bad-ass vampire.
Anyone noticing a trend ;)
I have a boyfriend and I love him and we're very happy. I just want to make that clear. That does not however stop my jaw from hitting the floor pretty much any time I see Ian Somerhalder (Yes, it is Boone of off Lost) because let's face it people, this man is beautiful and sometimes no matter how loved up you are, a beautiful man off of the telly can make a long slow week seem better.

Heatwave blues

2011-09-29T08:42:00.001-07:00

Man alive, what is with this weather?

Seriously? It's this hot in nearly October? Seriously? (the second 'seriously' would be in italics except I'm updating on my phone and don't know how to do italics. It's meant in italics though because that is how hot I actually am.)

It's a bit rubbish, actually because I love autumn. I like the colours and the long walks and the wellies and the woolies and the apple crumbles and the cosyness and none of that is happening because instead I feel like I am melting. There is a distinct shortage of air in my office this afternoon and consequently a distinct shortage of both motivation and will to live.
Oh heck. I seem to be grumpy about the weather; somebody ought to remind me of this in 2 months when I am raving about the snow!!

I just want an ice cream and a cold shower.

Tonight my plans involve dinner with the in-laws, the aforementioned shower and 'black books.' I sincerely hope one of those things cheers me up because I am annoying myself with my grumbling!

In other news I saw Jenna and Emily today. Jenna was all 'byeeeeee Jo' with a massive grin and it was cute (again, italics.)

Better off in Abersoch

2011-09-27T09:13:00.001-07:00

I actually believe I could deal quite easily with retirement. A cottage by the sea; a cute little puppydog to walk on the beach; all the books I could read and then some. Yes, I think that would suit me just fine, or at least that's the conclusion I've come to after my weekend away.

Talk about a lovely time. It's funny, some people might think we're excruciatingly boring, after all we were tucked up in bed for midnight, but I don't care. I've had a lovely relaxing time and feel totally recharged (and a lot less healthier than I did before I left. We've eaten a lot of junk.)

It's been superbly low key. Village pubs and bottles of wine; hot chocolate on the beach; lazy mornings and early nights; sofa picnics; snuggling under blankets whilst storms rage outside; Ugly Betty; single track country roads; lots of reading and even more laughter. I'm so glad I went.
It makes me realise, times like this weekend, just how lucky I am to have the people that I do in my life. People that just get me. People I can laugh with and drink with and sit in silence and read with and visit places just because we like the sound of the name with. Friendship is valuable and once you find those people who you can relax and be your own quirky self with, well you should hold them tight and never let go. I'm lucky enough to have a handful of those people and I love them all, very much.

That is all.