All entries for March 2005
March 31, 2005
March 30, 2005
So, one benefit of waiting for the guy who was measuring my room to bugger off, is that I got to sleep some more and continue my hilarious dreams of the night.
I don't remember it altogether accurately, but there was lots of people I knew in my dream.
At one stage I was on a boat of some sort, sitting upstairs with some friends and playing cards.
At another stage I was skiing (this is the fourth dream I've had involving skiing, in as many weeks, don't know what's going on there).
At another stage I was in front of the vatican and the pope stood up at his window and there was an almighty gasp.
Then at some point I was in Wolverhampton and went through a red light at 60 cos I wasn't paying attention (oops) and for some reason there was lots of kids standing in the road by the bus stop.
Then I watched a gig, and I was with a friend, and their housemate phoned them to tell them their house had been burgled….for alcohol! Thusly leaving only 9…no wait, 12 bottles of wine!
The strangeness of dreams, quite beffudling.
March 29, 2005
So, I did loads of motivational reading when in Texas last year, which is not normally my thing, but believe me, you need it to do a somewhat harrowing job, working 13 and a half hours a day, six days a week, in 42 degrees with a stupid level of humidity and little sleep.
I do look back to some of it sometimes just to perk me up/give me a kick up the backside/make me put things into perspective.
Here's something I read yesterday (look past the American melodrama of it, otherwise it won't work!):
'A number of years ago when I was working with psychotherapist Devers Branden, she put me through her "deathbed" exercise.
I was asked to clearly imagine myself lying on my own deathbed and to full realise the feelings connected with dying and saying good-bye. Then she asked me to mentally invite the people in my life who were important to me to visit me bedside, one at a time. As I visualised each friend and relative coming in to visit me, I had to speak to them out loud. I had to say to them what I wanted them to know as I was dying.
As I spoke to each person, I could feel my voice breaking. Somehow I couldn't help breaking down. My eyes were filled with tears. I experienced such a sense of loss. It was not my own life I was mourning; it was the love I was losing. To be more exact, it was a communcation of love that had never been there.
..blah blah blah…
From that day on I vowed not to leave anything to chance. I made up my mind never to leave anything unsaid. I wanted to live as if I might die any moment. The entire experience altered the way I've related to people ever since. And the great point of the exercise wasn't lost on me: we don't have to wait until we're actually near death to reveive these benefits of being mortal. We can create the experience anytime we want.
…blah blah blah…
Poet William Blake warned us about keeping out thoughts locked up until we die. "When thought is closed in caves," he wrote, "then love will show its roots in deepest hell".
Pretending you aren't going to die is deterimental to your enjoyment of life. It is detrimental in the same way that it would be detrimental for a basketball player to pretend that there was no end to the game he was playing. That player would reduce his intensity, adopt a lazy playing style, and, of course, end up not having any fun at all. Without an end, there is no game. Without being conscious of death, you can't be fully aware of the gift of life.
Yet many of us (including myself) keep pretending that our life's game will have no end. We keep planning to do great things some day when we feel like it. We assign our goals and dreams to that imaginary island in the sea that Denis Waitley calls "Someday Isle". We find ourselves saying, "Someday I'll do this," and "Someday I'll do that."
Confronting our own death doesn't have to wait until we run out of life. In fact, being able to vividly imagine our last hours on our deathbed creates a paradoxical sensation: the feeling of being born all over again – the first step to fearless self-motivation. "People living deeply," wrote poet and diarist Anais Nin, "have no fear of death."
And as Bob Dylan has sung, "He who is not busy being born is busy dying." ' —— 100 Ways To Motivate Yourself, Steve Chandler
Hence the title of my post Carpe Diem. The entry in the book made me wonder how many of us THINK we're seizing the day, and how many of us actually do. Obviously it has its limits, you can't do absolutely everything all in one go, but I know I'm one of the many people who put things off and put things off and put things off and bite their tongues and stuff. A lot of that is with good reason, but imagine the release of pressure if you just did and said everything you wanted to do without waiting for tomorrow. After all, I often find myself in a situation where tomorrow never comes.
Right, that's all my deep thinking for the day!! Possibly for quite a while, it all depends on what revision does to my brain.
March 28, 2005
What to do when…
You've been putting off buying CDs due to a lack of money, then tot up how many there are that you really want and it adds up to even more money, thus making it even more inacceptable to buy them, and you can't decide which ones you want most so you just end up adding to the list and being able to buy them even less.
Doh. I need a job…after zams.
So previously, my room at home was purple and red (three walls purple, one wall red) which I liked muchly. However my parents have gone re-decorating mad and have temporarily painted the walls in blasted "Magnolia", which, quite frankly, is shite.
Anyway, apparently I am allowed to repaint it a colour that I like (though apaprently it has to be pale, meh). Any suggestions? I hate decisions.
Tom Tucker: Well Diane, that last report was so good I think you deserve a spanking.
Diane: Oh Tom, I don't think your wife would appreciate that.
Tom: Haha, that frigid old cow lives in Quahog she can't hear a word I'm saying.
Camera Guy: Actually, we're back on the air in Quahog.
Also, I'ms ure this one has been done before on someone else's blog, but oh it's a goodun
Auctioner: Our first item is a pair of panties confiscated from a prostitute.
Quagmire: Fifty bucks.
Auctioner: She had nine STDs.
Quagmire: Forty-five bucks.
Auctioner: And when we caught her she wet herself.
Quagmire: Fifty bucks.
March 27, 2005
Writing about web page http://blogs.warwick.ac.uk/danielwilsoncraw/entry/just_as_i/This is me:
Which Family Guy character are you?
*The fact it's lighter til later (or greyer for longer? :( )
*Shriley Manson's return to long hair
*The intro to the new Garbage song (but not the rest of it, and not Shirley Manson's lip-synching on CD:UK neither)
*The smell of paint (until the familiar dizzy territory returns)
*Warm, snuggly clothes
*Sleeping through text messages sent to me at strange times of night by probably drunk people
*Getting my mum to enjoy Josh Rouse (but it's not bland enough for my dad)
March 26, 2005
*daffodowndillys. eeeeverywhere. One of my favourite flowers, next to tulips, which I've had a fondness for since going to Amsterdam when I was 10 (fields upon fields of the things) and blue orchids, a crazy flower that I once saw on a flower stall in London. Kind of irridescent purple petals (my favourite colour) with blue veins (my second favourite colour…or maybe red, I dunno)
*the smell of indoor furniture wax (until it gets to the stage where I'm starting to get just a little bit woozy and drugged up)
*the smell of clean hair
*being home, where food miraculously appears without me having to ponder about it
*Role reversal in my house. Where I'm telling my dad he needs to de-clutter and get rid of all those clothes he doesn't wear and asking my mum if she's had any paracetamol and sudafed yet and the also having the following conversation with her:
Shall: well it's not my responsibility to phone them
Shall's mum: well I don't need telling what to do
Shall: well if you don't do it yourself then clearly you do need telling
Shall bursts out laughing and Shall's mum chuckles
*Taunting my dad with the idea that if the hall carpet is being chucked in the skip in the next five days, I'm going to stop hopping artfully from one rug to another with my shoes on and instead happily smear mud all over it. Dad looks horriffied, me and my mum wet ourselves laughing (not really)
*Receiving a contract from the BBC to transfer copyright for my review to them and getting paid more than I thought I was. Woo!
*Thornton's Continental chocolates (not more than two at a time though, makes me feel queasy, I am a sweets girl really)
*McVities chocolate orange digestives
*Pete's photos here
*Listening to loud music LOUD whilst driving along on empty motorways
*Singing along to said music
*Getting woken up by nice warm sunlight
*Overexcitement about finishing my degree
*Channel 5's ability to produce such 'quality' programmes as "50 ways to look great naked