Favourite blogs for
SoundRich MkII
Just in case you are worried (apologies if I am by no means the first to notice this), please take the Warwick I-fear-I-am-going-to-die-of-bird-flu-test. No panicking now, you're unlikely to get bird flu after you already had SARS the other year…
31 Jan 2006 17:50
| 
Comments (1)
| 
Report a problem
The other day, I was talking to my flatmate Niki at dinner when she asked, "So, when you think of time, how do you think of it?". Needless to say, I was a bit confused by this statement coming à propos of nothing, so I asked her to explain more fully. She then asked, how did I picture time, in terms of days, weeks, months and years. What's strange is that I knew just how to answer her. When I think of a year, I think of it going like this…
April —————————————————> December
———————————————————————-
l
l
l
January
Starting at the bottom (January, obviously), and taking a sharp right at April. This means that I guess my life looks like a staircase, which I just spent 10 minutes drawing out in underscores and l's, but which blogbuilder won't let me show. angry face (well, not so much angry as ever so slightly bemused. You get the idea…)
Which is nice, now I think about it, it's like my years are climbing towards something, even in the literal way that I think of them. I'd never considered that before.
Niki, on the other hand, thinks of her years as being a kind of upright oval, going anti-clockwise downwards towards June and then up towards December. As for weeks and the progession of each month, she thinks of each week as progressing in a linear fashion from right to left . Obviously, this clearly proves her to be insane, but that's another topic for discussion entirely. When I think of a week, it moves from left to right, and when I think of a day it climbs vertically towards midnight, then kind of drops off in a curve down to the bottom at 6 a.m.
So, I mentioned this to some friends (two of which philiosophy majors) and none of them were able to elucidate how they think about time. So now I would like to know if Niki and I are, in fact, confirmed crazies, or if there are other people who have considered this… thank you for your time given in this groundbreaking piece of research.
29 Jan 2006 18:37
| Comments (7)
| Report a problem
Well hello there kids! Long time, no blog, I know, but with the promised 10meg ADSL hitting a rue des Stations near me in the next week*, I thought I'd better get back into this blogging lark. It's the only reason I'm paying however much I'm paying to be a part of the Warwick Graduate Association (that and continued library membership, which I am obviously getting a lot out of here in France. I wonder if they do mail order…), and so I ought to use it. Plus it will give me something to do with my brain with all this free time. I am still on the search for something useful to do with my free time, but in the mean time, I thought I would take up flamenco.
Those who are close to me know how much I love to dance, and to dance flamenco has always been a dream of mine. After my sister bought me Strictly Ballroom (possibly my favourite film, and controversially beating Dirty Dancing in the "favourite dance film" stakes), my passion was inflamed. I never dreamed, however, of reaching the dizzy heights of dance fame that I have achieved in such a short amount of time.
As you can see, I have already earned my place as flamenco's hottest new talent. Somewhat embarassingly heading the line-up in preference to hot Spanish names such as Lita Delgado, I have nonetheless earned my position by wowing the critics both Spanish and otherwise. Unfortunately, the mullet didn't quite cut it, and I have to wear a wig, but I feel beautiful and elegant in my (home-made) full-skirted, beaded dress. Obviously, I am not leaving my pupils out in the cold, and they support me fully, knowing how much my entertaining career means to me. Now just bring on the tourist season…
*ISP Alice's claims cannot to date be guaranteed
** neither can mine
08 Jan 2006 15:04
| Comments (3)
| Report a problem
29 Nov 2005 15:32
| Comments (17)
| Report a problem
20 Oct 2005 16:05
| Comments (1)
| Report a problem
Ok tout le monde, my mullet in plain view for all to see (apologies for my lack of eptitude at formatting this entry). I don't want any fake compliments, thank you, I would rather all joined with me in railing against the French hairdressing machine. Hence any comments that don't agree that my mullet is truly hideous may or may not be deleted, I just can't say. I also attach a wonderful picture of a party we had while my hair was still attached to my head, and another of my housemates. If anyone knows of a way I can attach a video to this baby, I can give you a preview of the Mullet Song, penned by my good self and mullet friend Shelley, to which the words are: "Mullets together, happy as one: Mullets together, having such fun". Of course you cannot experience the musical genius without hearing us breaking it down, but there you go.
I would just point out that no-one has taken up my kind offer of coming to visit me in the next two weeks, which you are really missing out on. Lille is full of great things, like dog crap and men who can't keep their eyes in their sockets. Go on, give it a try.
18 Oct 2005 17:32
| Comments (7)
| Report a problem
So here's a thing. There are some days of a woman's life when she wishes she was male. Today is one of those days. Gentlemen, be thankful. When you grow out of your bad fashionable haircuts, you can cut them off. Not so the ladies. When you go to a French hairdresser, show them a picture of a nice, shoulder length haircut and they give you a THREE INCH MULLET you can do nothing about it. Just cry. It took me 4 years to grow out my last ill-advised haircut. In 4 years' time I will be nearly 26!!! By that time I'm meant to have a house and babies and stuff. But no, I will have to hide away in a hole until such time as I can look in the mirror without crying.
Oh yes, and to top it all, I al homeless, one of my schools hates me, I am alone and in France and I wanna go home!!! That is the end of my rant.
13 Oct 2005 18:18
| Comments (3)
| Report a problem
11 Oct 2005 10:36
| Comments (0)
| Report a problem
Hello! My first ever French entry. I'm sat here in one of my schools having just been handed a whole bunch of papers. They're all interconnected in that you cannot complete one of them without needing something off one of the others. To get paid, I need a social security number, then a medical, then a bank account, then an address… none of which I have as yet. I was staying with my friend's cousin, but his flat wasn't exactly spacious (his flatmate slept on the sofa!!) and he was quiet, to say the least. At the moment, I've moved in with another assistant, an American called Niki, and her flatmates Totti (a Spanish girl) and Miguel (a Mexican guy). So I'm likely to learn more Spanish than French at the moment! I should be meeting up with a French girl tomorrow who's looking for someone to flat-share with, so maybe I might get somewhere, as she, unlike me, has things like a bank account and a French guarantor. Could be fun.
Well, I'm going to go get ANOTHER form filled in so I can get my train season ticket (because obviously it's necessary for your employer to prove you work where you say you do, otherwise people might end up taking hour-long train journeys every day for fun) then I'm going to check out the lovely town of St-Omer – can't wait. A bientôt…
10 Oct 2005 10:38
| Comments (0)
| Report a problem
Ok, I don't want to make anybody throw up or anything… but I do want to say thank you to everybody who has looked after me and helped me to get better over the last couple of weeks. Without your hospitality, prayers and patience, I would not be going to France on Saturday. Please do keep on praying for me, as I will do for you, and keep in touch, because I am going to be one lonely little jetsetter (trainsetter??).
Thanks again! xxx
29 Sep 2005 17:18
| Comments (0)
| Report a problem
to my readership! (That's you Paul!) I have no energy to write anything whatsoever here… or any creativity in me whatsoever, in fact.
Help me, I'm moving to France in a month!
15 Aug 2005 20:53
| Comments (1)
| Report a problem
My sister sent me this quiz today, and it's interesting. Obviously any such quiz is probably going to be a little dubious, but the results are interesting nonetheless. My sister and I came out with the same overall result, which is good to know, although underneath it she was still a raving Catholic (39%) :P
Would be interested to see what other people come out as – do we necessarily share the same doctrinal basis even within the same church?
| You scored as Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan. You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God's grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavly by John Wesley and the Methodists.
What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com |
12 Jul 2005 19:48
| Comments (7)
| Report a problem
… a long time ago, but now I've read the book. For non-Christians out there, it's not some kind of cheesy, I-don't-need-men/women manual. It's just cheesy. But anyone who cares knows that already. I'd wanted to read it for ages, and as Prinith said the other day, all the ideas I'd expressed to her were pretty much in line with Josh Harris' thinking. So I pretty much had to read it.
Turns out she was right. In spite of the strong odour of brie, the book did come close to expressing how I think God expects us to act in relationships. Although I think if a man asked my parents if it was ok for him to start pursuing marriage with me, they might fall over laughing. But better to be safe than sorry, and if a potential husband is going to have to deal with my parents for the rest of his life, he may as well start now by dealing with them finding him hopelessly backward.
I write this having had my nan just send me a note concluding: "Be true to yourself, have a happy time, perhaps a Prince Charming"... which is not unusual for her. But even my mother, who is normally a stay-away-from-men-they-will-only-ruin-your-life type started quizzing me about love interests yesterday. I'm moving to France! Get it into your heads people!
But most of all (turns up nose in self-important style), I have kissed dating GOODBYE!
08 Jul 2005 17:47
| Comments (3)
| Report a problem
Neil Morrissey just claimed that Live 8 is the biggest awareness campaign in history.
Can't help but think he's missing something.
On a different note, the thing that has struck me most so far is how much too big Kelly Jones' hair is for his head. He's not a rock star, he's a parody.
02 Jul 2005 16:09
| Comments (0)
| Report a problem
26 Jun 2005 21:23
| Comments (8)
| Report a problem
25 Jun 2005 12:19
| Comments (7)
| Report a problem
Despite slightly creepy Simply Red connotations (no fear, this blog is not about "sexin it right") there is something a bit strange about the exaggerated import of things that happen at night. For a start, everyone knows that things that happen at night always seem worse. At my most crazy, I have been known to fear that I am going to die of carbon monoxide poisoning while asleep in a friend's living room. Last week, I totally freaked out in a conversation about a murderer who had come to Christ, officially died (he has his death certificate framed), spoke to God, and came back to life. Now, there's definitely a miracle in there, but not much to incite fear… except for the fact that it was 3am. In fact, 3am seems to be a peculiarly important time, spawning at least 2 songs about its significance. The words "It's 3am, I must be lonely" say quite a lot about the way we react to emotional circumstances at night time. Something innate within us exaggerates ordinary emotional impulses, and things often appear more real.
This reality, to me, means that for some reason, I often feel like important things have to happen at night. If I need to talk to someone about something serious or meaningful, I will try to do it at night. Maybe that's because I don't think they'll have anything to run away to at that time, but I think there's more to it than that. Something about nighttime conversations makes them seem more profound—those big conversations about the meaning of life rarely happen during the day. Makes me wonder if it's just psychological or if there are scientific reasons behind it all…
24 Jun 2005 19:09
| Comments (1)
| Report a problem
22 Jun 2005 00:46
| Comments (2)
| Report a problem
When I read about this in the Sunday Times Style Magazine, I just had to write about it. You can get it online here , although it isn't quite as attractive as the glossy version with pretty pictures of ladies and cakes.
The main premise of cake dating is that drinks are unoriginal, and there's the added worry that the lady will think the gentleman is trying to get her drunk and into bed. Of dinner, the writer says that if you don't know the person, the prospect of spending several hours with someone in a restaurant is quite scary. Instead, he says:
Why not ask her out for a cake date? Gentleman, this is a daytime redezvous in the genteel environment of a posh patisserie. It is a fresh approach, and I will wager she has not been asked on one before.
He also says that cake dates are "for those tantalisingly out-of-reach women"... clearly, just like me! And, even more uncannily, I really love cakes. And patisseries are decidedly French. Say no more.
20 Jun 2005 12:19
| Comments (0)
| Report a problem
Emma
She looked at me, inquisitively.
Merging, scouring through the deathless murkiness
which lives, never dying, in spite of sorrow.
Thinking, whatever passes
can not but demonstrate what an
entirely different
sense of
finding, slowly, my nemesis;
Discursion, philanthropy, how can this
be ME. Now. Why does it rage
incessantly. Provoking lies and outrage
sage and following my LIFE.
Today or
tomorrow.
Maybe.
19 Jun 2005 23:28
| Comments (3)
| Report a problem
Please wait - comments are loading