(Finally made myself sometime to catch up with all the emails etc)

How am I? You may wish to know.
Writing too much,
Drinking tea too much,
Working too much,
Thinking about the future; probably just enough.

It's sort of nice here, but not. Because despite the fact that I'm cold, and it's 3 degrees outside, raining, the heaters not working and I wake up every morning at six. I'm satisfied. I'm glad to be here. And somehow that sentiment feels just slightly wrong.

My life has somehow gotten simpler, yet lonelier. Because... it's one thing moving to a place not knowing anyone; and it's another thing moving to a new place; just for a short while; with little time and not being sure if you want to know people or if they want to know you. Because I think I've gotten jagged, and I don't really like this thought.

I'm not actually depressed but artistic influences influence me to this style of writing at the moment.

Things to do (for you):

A Softer World; a online comic strip; well worth considering (particularly Rita), they have lovely style. Here are a couple of them:

Girl Number 9
Is a Halloween treat I guess. It's a purely online thriller; it isn't however at all tacky, or sleazy or like an online games. What it is; is professional actors, directors and writers coming together to produce something for the advancing technology. It's coming out is short episodes on the 30th of October; and it's back story is done through the characters twitter accounts. (And it's looking good)



off, to sort through email pile up, :(

RANDOMNESS AT SLEEPOVERDOM

Ladies and Gentlemen, having decided that this place needed something shiny; I am letting two guest writers loose on this blog. They are as follows: Charlotte (um...recognised Sora off my badge from Lisa and is the Charly who is my wife) and Becca (you all know her so there is no real need for me to explain - I talked too much about her already). Well, enjoy!



HI! Charly speaking, just cause Sasha (Alex) said I should. And because I want to! I think you guys are awesome (not that I know any of you but you are friends of Sasha so I love you all) Hmm....what to say. I feel like typing random things that may make me seem scary but I don't know what to say cause it is quite late at night and my brain never truly functions. Unless I'm doing something completely pointless and worthless such as remembering 11 words like clown, money, carrots, the world, killer whale, mobile phone, pharoah, hot air balloon, clock, ice cream, gorilla.

I guess I should say a little bit about myself. I am an anime/manga fanatic, (I just hit my head on the desk - ouch) my favourite animes would have to be Shugo Chara, Chobits, possibly Chokoto Sister, Onegai Teacher and Twins and a load of others that I have watched OMG CHRNO CRUSADE! Heh I am just going to say whatever comes into my brain (lol silly brain) and um...um....Sasha said mention games that I like to play to make y'all like me. I have an Xbox 360 at home and I currently enjoy playing Unreal Tournament 3, Naruto Rise of A Ninja (yeah I know, I'm really so cool) and Fable II. This is not just because they are the only games I have, they truly are my favourites. And I have Viva Pinata but I don't play that much.

Sasha told me about Burniesm of which I have decided I must be a member simply cause it sounds awesome and Burnie is cool. I love you Burnie. <333333333



Interuption: She's not really madly deeply in love. YES I AM! It is however a sleepover.



Now I've lost my train of thought cause she interrupted me (yeah thats how it should be spelt, Sasha fails!) hmm...oh yeah my mad passionate love of Burnie. (Joke don't worry, I prefer to get to know someone before I fall in love with them)

GLOVES

GLOVES

GLOVES

ORANGE GLOVES

OF AWESOMENESS

I like them :D

I was wearing them today. They were handed round for everyone to wear at the little get together we had to welcome my lovely wife back into this world (Australia is in fact another planet, not just a country or continent or whatever you are)

Becca said that made me sound stupid, I'm not I just can't be bothered with geography and didn't take it for GCSE unlike someone *glares at Becca*

I'm bored of writing now so I'll let her dictate whatever she wants to say to me cause I'm a fast typer and I rule the keyboard (and the world that is not Australia)

JUST TAKE THE BEAR I BEG OF YOU!

(Explanation of this statement will be brought up at a later time in this post THE CAKE IS A LIE)



Becca speaking. Evening/morning/afternoon/night all! HAI THERE *giggle* *more giggles* (She doesn't know what to say to you XD)

I AM ALSO A MEMBER OF BURNIESM it sounds awesome *nods* (I love you more - Sasha thinks we are like so compatible you and me) Sasha does not!

By the way I (Becca) am in italics, none of that was me, Charlotte is BOLD and Sasha is normal. Yeah right! *hahaha* I don't sound insane after Charlotte I sound normal after Charlotte.

We are currently in my bedroom (not in bed, at the computer) er...

*Sasha suggesting things for Becca to say cause she doesn't know what to say =P*

um...um...um...

Say something intelligent please Becs



By the way, as Becca doesn't know what to say I will occasionally take over. Sasha is being disgusted as Rebecca happens to have Twilight on her bookshelf. Not to lower your opinion of me if any of y'all don't like it but I do like Twilight and the books that follow. However, I do think the movie was not as good as the books and it really let me down when I watched it.



Thank you all for looking after Sasha while we couldn't cause she ran away too far. We now have the police back on her and we'll tell her off tomorrow when we are calmer *giggle*

It's intelligent-ish



Showing them Dresden Codak will be back later.

I tried, I really tried. Ehh.....

It seemed quite boring. I can't concentrate this late. *yawns* I have so much swimming round my brain that I could say to you but I'm really tired from getting up this morning so I can't think properly (not saying that I ever think properly) (Chocolate in the form of 'Roses' joins the fray)

For a minute there I read that as "charlotte in the form of roses joins the fray" I am definitly in the fray, but not in the form of roses. OMNOMNOM CHOCOLATE

OMNOMNOMNOMNOM

OK back to more serious matters. What serious matters? You have a point Sasha. You have a point. If there is anything you really want to know about me more, feel free to email me! I LOVE EMAIL! IT MAKES ME FEEL SPECIAL AND LOVED. In case you didn't know (which you probably didn't) my email is available through Sasha. OMNOMNOM FUDGE

Hmm...I can't think of anything more to say. My memory is that of a goldfish or an inanimate object. Until I have said/read/written something 4 times. 4 is the magic number for remembering anything, remember that folks! Sayonara for now, minna daisuke! (if you know what I meant by that I LOVE YOU!)

Bye from Sasha and Rebecca also. They aren't that important as I played the most part in this post =P <3>

As many of you know me, you know that I'm a bit of a hedonist; with my perfect time spending being curled up in an armchair with a really good book, in front of a crackling fireplace; drinking tea (used to be hot chocolate, I'm more grown up now; being sixteen).
So waking up to an orchid (which I have an odd fondness for), a BIG box of chocolates and a sterling silver necklaces of roses is rather a lovely way to do so. (Also a subscription to National Geographic goes a long way to make your special day, that little bit more special).

Baby Orchid:
Some Photo's of Moi (in the pub after school):

Days 0 et 1

Day Zero
The first thing that became England for me this morning was the scent of coffee. We were reaching the end of the long process to get outside of the airport when the stale and disinfectant air faded and instead become filled with the aroma of coffee. And not a subtle one at that, oh no, it was one so thick that you could probably see it in the air, so thick that it got inside your mouth, into your lungs and miraculously spread to the brain (from the smell alone). The next scent was smoke, cigarette; in the beginning it mixed with the coffee and together created a cosy atmosphere of a smokefilled coffee shop.

Many of you I'm sure have wondered why is it that I have such wild imagination; today the answer came to me quite inexplicably. It is quite simply because I live in a book. Don't believe me? Let me quote the beginning of the Wikipedia page on the place where I'm going to live in (am living): "Wantage is a town and civil parish in the Vale of the White Horse, near the Thames Valley, in the English county of Oxfordshire"
Now, if that doesn't sound like a book here are some more fact about my life that I discovered today:

• It is possible to pick up a taxi at London Heathrow Airport and for it to be a London Cab, with a driver who doesn't own a map, doesn't have a clue about Oxfordshire, and manages to do the following things while driving us to the new house: smoke 5 cigarettes (in his own cab which has 5 'no smoking' stickers) eat and read the newspaper.
  
• If you take a piece of paper and scrunch it up and pretend it's actually 2D, with the creases being roads it is quite possible that you have an accurate map of Oxfordshire. If anything, following the roads makes the whole place probably 3 times bigger.
  
• Wantage according to Mum is a hole (although I'm sure she means it in a loving way) and in a way it is. Nobody know where it is, what it is, and more importantly why it is.

---
Day 1
I spent the first day lazing about, deservingly getting over jet-lag and 5 hours of sleep for the whole journey and the day before and after it. Today walked about the town a bit. Town maybe a too big word for it. It certainly is a town; by late dark ages, early middle ages standards but to today's standards it is rather tiny (on googlemaps). It doesn't however feel like a village, it may certainly be smaller than many villages I seen, but, it is a town. It's like the people took the essence of that ancient probably Roman founded town and build around it through the ages creating a small patchwork of history.
While I didn't manage to get a booklamp (utter essentials) I did manage to get my hand on my very own library card today. About which I'm going to natter happily about in this paragraph. The libraries in all of Oxfordshire are interconnected (apart of the Bodleian I suspect) so you can pick a book anywhere and drop it off anywhere. While there are charges for somethings, most of them don't apply to under 18. I was also given a selection of designs for my card, which made me rather happy.
And now the confession. Yes, I borrowed books, yes I should have written to people I miss rather than indulge myself it these treasures but...then I wouldn't be me. So, read around 130 pages of biographical material called 'The Film Club' I believe. It's about a father and a drop-out from school son, and how they connected through watching 3 movies a week together. I haven't read all of it, but it already sound like a movie to me. A good philosophical edged one.

And now jet-lag is catching up with me and all my semi-eloquent phrases are turning into noodles. I will email. (Just remember the time difference)

Up for Sale Trade *sigh* Grabs

(Although profit or donations to charity/needy/funds are always very appreciated)

Also, Watch this space technology and furniture may become available! (Plus other useless stuff)

Paper, white technically for printer but usable for anything: 70-100 sheets
Lined A4 tare away Notebook- 120 or so pages left
Ummm, a board, like a noticeboard where you use pins to pin things up, A2 size I guess-totally unused
Vase, glass modern style, see-through, large, heavy and useless. New. I may even find a box.
2 cheap tennis balls
black hole puncher
a handful of colourful paperclips
some pencils/pens
150-250 plastic folder pockets
flat folder thingies, you know the ones, the have metal that bend for hole punched stuff.... no? well if you interested I'll show you (available in white x2, light blue x2, black, grey, red, dark blue, green, yellow)
standard white envelopes
Folders, (like the ones Sarah and I have) colours: light green, red x2, pink, green, orange x 2, blue, purple, dark green.

(if nobody wants/needs these I'll give them to library)

Commerce Pathways: Yr 10 textbook
The Wife of Martin Guerre by Janet Lewis (this is a maybe)
A cage of butterflies by Brian Caswell
Chinese Cinderella by Adeline Yen Mah
Art is... Yr 9 textbook
Health and Physical Education 2 (textbook)
Feuerwerk 2 (German yr 9 workbook (not the textbook!))
Humanities alive geography 2 (yr 9 textbook)

A small proportion of my calender for the next month or so. (Birthdays not included yet). Prior Booking Preferred :)

Also, Manifest anyone? I'm really really want to go at least once...

July:
30-Rita Day Trip to City
31-Packing
August
1-Trip Somewhere
2-Packing
3
4-Packing get's picked up
5-
6
7
8
9-Singapore
10-Singapore
11-Singapore
12-Singapore
13-Singapore
14-Singapore
15-Singapore
16-Singapore
17-Singapore
18
19
20
21-Manifest?
22-Manifest?
23-Manifest?
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31-Leaving House
September
1
2
3
4
5
6-Possible Leaving Date
7
8
9

Away this weekend. Tell you all about it later!

My writing block has not returned per say, however I do have a slight blockage when it comes to writing at the moment. I want to write, I'm in the right mood, I have inspiration and I have ideas/plans. What I don't posses at the moment is the ability to write and make sense. I've lost articulation. My attempt at writing a poem got me in such state that it came out all nonsense and I refuse to even post it here.

I need to be able to write again, the best way it seems is to flex my writing muscles, which is why I'm asking for help. Prompt me. Give me a quote, a word, a piece of dialogue, a couple of names. Anything. And I promise to write at least a paragraph to it. Probably more.
All of my own ideas don't seem to flow at the moment, even this blog post feels clunky.

Anyone? Anything?

I would like to know why computers persist at making my life harder. I have never hit them, I care for them and often talk to them properly. For god's sake according to some people (who think I'm a robot AI) we're practically related. And yet my troubles continue.

My first ever personal computer was a desktop named Chiro. It was huge, heavy and constantly covered in dust and I loved it to bits. I made all my newbie mistakes in it. And yes I admit it may have been slightly neglected, and yes at one time it got a bad virus infection but it got better. With help, Chiro did recover.

I was against Chiro being scraped; in my opinion as retirement it deserved to serve a happy life as a computer in the art block; Mr Turley's room. I somehow never got round to it, and Chiro ended up being scraped. And now I suspect its ghost haunts me.

Then came the second hand apple laptop, creatively name Chiro 2. (Well it was better than MSSL 5 which was what it was called before). I think out of all my computers to date I miss that one the most. My only apple. Perfect in every way. Until it died. Around my birthday last year. It seems that 'milk to the motherboard' was fatal. (And god that would make a good title: 'Milk to the Motherboard')

It took me weeks of selection to choose my current one. Assuming that getting a windows would be cheaper we searched for one that was not infected by Vista. (If you don't know about the evils of Vista ask Burnie, and I'm sure he'll be more than happy to educate the ignorant). This time I decided that a new name was needed and born was 'Ianto Jones' (Thing is, now that somebody understands where the name cames from it's quite embarrassing. Yes, I did name my laptop after a fictional welsh administrator and self-proclaimed coffee lover. So what?)

Now Ianto Jones has served me well until about a month ago. That was the time around which the wires went to hell. The last few weeks have been a battle with technology wich I have now lost due to the wires melting.

In my mind I can not help that wonder that the name I choose influenced a bit the events. If we look at it from a certain angle (and squint, stand on one leg while singing Christmas carols) we may see that the laptop was Ianto and the wires were Lisa. The last month was post Canary Wharf and now that Lisa was finally died it is obvious that my computer needs a new companion in life.

Stopwatch, anyone?

My life is not that insane, but I do my best to make it so.

(I'm going to have to name my wires as well now, won't I?)

PS Yes my camera does have a name. It's Emrys. Somehow all technology around me is turning up to be male.

PSS. And yes Emrys is also a character. Although I'm rethinking my decision of that particular name.

PSSS I'm also currently ill. And I suspect it should be Pps rather than Pss. Actually let's just say 'Nota Bene; and be done with it.

Nota Bene: Not totally ill; I don't have a temperature. But! I do have a runny nose, sore throat, headache and am both coughing and sneezing. And my head is fuzzy.

Another Note: On being a robot. When insomnia gets to me I generally try to imagine I'm in a secluded forest meadow, with a murmur of human conversation around me. It sometimes helps to calm my mind down. After work experience I was in a state where any human contact was prone to set me for. (A bit like a hay fever allergy when its bad on its own, but you know that just a bit more and it will set of an allergic reaction severe enough for hospital). And that night I didn't think of warmth and sun filled grasslands but rather of a dark cold room full of chrome and metal. And that worked as well. So sometimes, just sometimes I like to think that maybe having a dream and future similar to that of Kimiko Ross wouldn't be so bad.

Would you change for the person you loved? Because for me the people I love are absolute everything, I'm pretty sure I'd murder for them (or at least cover one up) and I'm quite sure I'd sacrifice a whole lot for them. So what about little bit's of my self? Surprising despite the whole subculture of that you can't change people, I'm quite sure I'd change on purpose for the person I love. I'd do everything else. Compared to that it is a little thing.
I'm sure you'd say that if they loved me they wouldn't ask that of me, but love ain't pure, it's passionate and jealous; love covers a range of emotions and most of them dangerous. I think I'd be willing to do that, to change; for them.
I know a lot of people just skim my blog without commenting, once in a while, but for this I want replies, call it a survey if you wish. I want to know your opinion, even anonymously. Please.
Would you change for the people you love? Think about it.

There is something to be said about standing in front of a wasted printer, with grey-on-white stack of script pages in your hands. It's not finished, I hope some day it will be, but at the moment I can't help feel proud when seeing the 39 pages that came out from 1-2 weeks of work. It was worth it. It was really worth it: to ignore sleep, common sense, homework, holidays; everything and to simply write. It sound more romantic that it was. It was hard, and daunting, and exhilarating and I stopped, didn't reach the finishing line, gave up; gave in. But not before 60 pages of work. 39 of those being this newly printed script.

In these pages you can track my everyday life, the events that influenced me scene by scene; here let me show you:

Scene Three: We danced in the rain that day. It was the last day of term 1 and it was raining. The school got flooded in the end. After science, me and Sarah run about in the rain until we were breathless and our legs were covered in mud. We attempted to dry our clothes and hair in the toilets by the canteen. Yesterday Amy remembering that day, called Matt a hobbit. Rita was sensible and a boy from year 11 -takes my bus from my station, Nick-gave us an odd look as we ran past. In Maths the sky was purple, or maybe another fantastic colour; no work was done: naturally. The boys (year 8?) corridor was flooded. Arriving at writers workshop (R1) I stood in the doorway letting rain drip on me, the I sat by the doorway, took of my socks and attempted to squeeze the water out of them. We made a trip to get our bags from the locker room, and I returned with an umbrella. We watched Rowan Atkinson talk about humour.

Scene Four, A few days before I've been browsing youtube, and one song got stuck in my head. Relativ, by Wise Guys. It was in German. My amusement could go a long way. I wrote it in two scenes, only one was in this play.

Scene Seven, we went to the Casino, that day or the day before. The one on south bank, near the river. It was grand, no specific decorations for Easter. There were lights however glittering from the celling in front hallway/grand staircase. They had a chocolate shop with painted wooded eggs, they reminded me of Russia. Mum too. I couldn't breathe in that place, my thought were morbid, and somewhat tainted by the unobservable sleaziness of the place. I realized it was due to the fact, that there were no windows, no wood. Only stone, metal and people. I hated it.

Scene Eight, we were in Adelaide. We visited a garden there, a gift from a twined city in Japan. There was a African wedding leaving, bright colourful clothes. It was the first time I've seen a zen garden, but what forced me still was a deer scarer. I'm not sure why.

Scene Eleven, I've been obsessing with one phrase that day, attempting to remember it right: "Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there, He wasn't there again today, Oh, how I wish he'd go away". For some reason those words remind me of the stairs leading up to my grandparents flat. More memories. I also mention the bush fires. Then quickly make up for that mistake.

Just a small insight in my writing process. A small glimpse in to my memories of times past.

A few people asked me for recommendations lately, so I decided I'd make a short list: (that turned out to be not so short, so maybe choose the category that interests you?)

Crime/Mystery

Agatha Christie.

Everything. Absolutely everything. Those who know me well know that I worship the woman. They're not only very good mysteries, but also they have an atmosphere of eternal elegance. These books deserve to be savoured, don't rush them, don't look ahead; enjoy them. I promise you you'd never guess the murderer.
My personal favourites: the Hollow and the Murder of Roger Ackroyd.

Nero Wolfe Series by Rex Stout

I haven't read enough of them. Last time I read one my internal temperature was between 38-40 C so... but amazing. the structure and story, while you may suspect the killer, the surrounding and personalities of the characters are brilliant.

Both of the above writers make very good studies of human character, this makes the detail of the interactions incredible.

Fantasy

Darkweaver/Imperial Series by Mark Robson

Technically the Series are connected and are in the same universe/same decade. However the stories are quite different. What I love about this writer is the fact that he doesn't make excuses, there is no introduction; these books employ the sink or swim method. And once you get the hang of the storyline you really appreciate the detail - which is very intricate and rather, well, creative.

The Cry of the Icemark by Stuart Hill

Only the first book; it is a series but in this case the first book is the best. I suppose it counts as a young adult book, but not a lot of morals and lessons to be learned. So I see it more as one of my comfort books; it is a very sweet desperate story with bits of every genre included.

Cozy Mysteries

This is a genre I'm still discovering, it is a mysteries but I guess softer. In Rita's newly discovered maths: cozy=mystery - thriller.

Gray Whale Inn Series by Karen MacInerney

I guess these are more focused on a female audience, but they really are feel-good books despite being murder centered. I especially love the main character, the reality of her life and the homey feeling of the books. It's a combination that makes these books irresistible to me and easily consumed in a day.

Humour

Absolute Power (DVD)

Not a book, I know. But there is such power and dedication in the script. I think the idea(s) are the things that makes this series really really consuming. It has a modern feel without becoming all chrome and angles. It also shows the world, media and people in a unique and rather harsh yet humorous light. It also challenges the popular conceptions we have about truth, morals and deception. Rather sharp, sarcastic humour very often at the expense of others.

Art/Photography/Unconventional Writing



This is a photographer that really inspires me, his photographs show a lot of skill and reality. I am in awe of how he shows human nature through a combination of photographs and writing. His projects are unique and in a way he really has the dream job. I also am drawn like a moth to a flame, to his thought process and personal reception of his work.
One of my favourite photographs of his is this one. For me it's the simplicity and the relaxed atmosphere.
However to fully appreciate it you really need look at his photographs as a group, project by project.

Kmye Chan

This artist creates something we often see with very good fantasy writing. She creates universes, proper structured universes that you see in you mind with her art. Her pieces aren't in proportion or conventional and yet they give of the feelings and atmosphere that I generally get from a very good book.
My favourite art of hers is the one I've seen first. Yes it was the theme that drew me in, but it is the unrealistic detailed that captured me. Most people when doing a fantasy setting simplify the art and focus on a few aspects, she does the opposite and this is what makes it so much more real.

Being an artist:

is staring at ones fingers
covered in food colouring
and stained
and thinking about how
body painting with
food colouring
is actually
quite cool.

(noting down now
later will search for designs)

Living with an artist:

is looking at the commandeered dinner table
covered in recycled paper and art
and telling to clean it up yourself.

it's coming home to a dirty kitchen
and noting that "these will look good on the wall".

it's considering that it will make a
good cover for the next album
and forgiving the blue
stains on the counter.

It's resigned acceptance.

All I've got to say:

Exam- Will Update Further

Exam Timetable

Thursday

10:30-12:40pm (10:30-12:00 : 90 mins)

English

A5

1:34-3:10pm

Science

A6

Friday

11:08 – 12:48pm

Maths

A8

1:34-3:10pm

History

A5

English:

90 mins

1 Extract Essay

Take Your Time -> Plan

Write About all 3 Extracts

Science-1 double sided A4 sheet

Nuclear

(How do you separate U235 and U238)

What are α, β, γ, and their properties

Half Life and how to use it (equation/Maths)

Decay Rules α, β, γ,

How fission occurs/fusion works (hydrogen)

Nuclear Reactors-Fission/Fusion

9.3, 9.4, Half Life

Know deuterium, tritium,

Radioactive/Carbon dating (equations/Maths)

Uses of radiation (ie X-rays, Medical, Cat, Pet, Tracers, radiotherapy, nuclear reactors, sterilization, gauging, pipeline, tracers, mining, OPAL,)

Electronics

Symbols of components

What do components do

What is: voltage, current, resistance, power,

How does transformer work

Series and Parallel Circuits

V_pI_p = V_sI_s

Power In=Power Out

Ohms Law

V=IR

P=VI

Maths-1 bound book, no unattached pieces

Trigonometry

Matrices

Linear Graphs and Modeling

Relations and Functions

Linear Programming

Non-Linear Programming (only ellipse and Polar Graphs-9G)

History

Early Slave Trade: conditions/name of route (slave triangle)

Re-Read Essay on the Mistreatment of Slaves

Amazing Grace- what were the arguments, pro-anti slavery

Civil Rights Key Organizations (1950’s-60’s)

How blacks were treated-Jim Crow Laws

Montgomery bus Boycott/Little Rock Nine

(specific event-look at annotated map)

Evaluate a primary source document

Picture of primary source in Civil Rights movement (particular event)

Essay: Mississippi Burning or Martin Luther King (specific question)

Raise your hand who just had a luke-warm shower (because there's no hot water left again), washed their hair and is planning on having ice-cream later...
*raises hand*
Because currently I'm feeling suitably moronic, I'm going to do something worthy of being 9 years old. Ask me three questions and I'll answer truthfully (although I reserve the right to be evasive/sarcastic/stupid)

(Edit: It should actually say: being 9 years old and having a sleepover)

And now the stuff that is in drafts but deserves to be out in the open:
Noticeboard:

Looking For
A sarcastic, creative individual with a good sense of wit or humour.
With hobbies in Writing/Drawing/Creating.
And interest in a few of the following series/books/films/universes:
Doctor Who, Torchwood, Merlin, Bones, Harry Potter (books not films), Buffy, LotR, Inheritance Cycle.
A love of cozy mysteries, Agatha Cristie, and obscure thick fantasy books adored.
Bigots need not apply.
(I am easily corrupted, converted and exited. When it comes to interests that is.)

A Public Letter From Me to My Inspiration
You Bitc- You Bast- Okay, I can be civil. I'll make you a deal, you help me with the following:
Editing 'Tree of Many ...."
English Creative
Writers Workshop Project
and I'll for the period of time after the exams and until the beginning of Semester 2 (excluding Work Experience) will write, draw, create, convert, corrupt, photograph, animate; anyone, anyhow, anywhere you want.
Do we have a deal?
(You're a real Hussy you know that don't you?)

Dear Santa,
I've been a very very good girl, so can I pretty please have a timeturner?
(And see the rest of the season of Merlin? And I wouldn't say no to a pet dragon.)
Thank you!

This is the History research for all of you lazy people. In the comments I'll first give you my summary, and then the information I found. Please at least reword the information. You also don't need all of it, only the things that happened in the 19 hundreds, the rest is extra.

Bribing isn't compulsory but is nice.

On the Subject of ... Masters, serenades and songs of black humour

My hopes and theories have come to life: that's right my Master's back.

*giggle*

Snooped through the Internet and found details of the upcoming regeneration episodes of Doctor Who. The cast to be precise: Jack, Donna, Sarah Jane Smith, the 11th Doctor and of course... the Master

*giggle giggle maniacal laughter* Oh, Master.... Mr. Saxon... *love-sick sigh* my gorgeous time traveling genociding psycopathic alien.

(What? Villains are attractive. 'Specially is suits.)

Thanks to Fallow I'm currently still on a sugar-like high. So, I thank her for introducing me to the Gothic Archies, they sing the most amazing things.

If I ever get serenaded I want it to be with their song Shipwrecked.

*sings*
I can't think of a single thing I'd rather do
and that's why I had to get rid of the crew
So I lopped off their heads and dropped them into the sea

Very romantic.

Their songs:
Shipwrecked
The world is a very scary place
Walking my gargoyle
and other's...

*sigh* Sugar High....Bubblegum-Goth....

Luna by Julie Anne Peters

Just finished reading Luna by Julie Anne Peters. I spent about half of the book crying, absolutely beautifully. It was breathtaking the pain, the desperation, the reality. It made other people's reality come to life. (On the things I don't really like? The question page at the end, needless in my opinion.) I wouldn't call it a philosophical book, it really doesn't have that many metaphorical ideas, however the themes... It deals with the people outside the structured society. And while the book doesn't skirt or beat about the bush, it themes are philosophical and I find it very interesting that this book got written and published I think to do such a thing would take courage.
On the other side while I enjoyed the book I can't say I enjoyed the authors/or maybe publishers way of handling it. While on the whole I find it a interesting book I think that's more to do with the emotional context rather than skill. The plot, yes it is good and original . The perspective and the two storyline of two people living one dream.... they are all good. but it a way it feels like this book was a textbook and was written not for the fiction but to introduce the subject to the mind of young people. That makes me feel that it's propaganda. However the author seems to be genuine in her wishes to write for the sake of creating so it may just be my prejudice against the modern youth books that are always too short and come with a moral.
I mentioned above about the writing... It is not badly written and author does have talent however she doesn't have the spark. This book while painful and emotional can't exist without the readers agreement and appreciation, so while being an interesting book I wouldn't call it a good one.
Would I recommend it?
To some people yes, but I think it is a book for open minded people because if a person can't see past their belief, they wouldn't able to appreciate it in it's full glory.

The Blurb:

"Luna," she repeated softly, more to herself than me. "Appropriate, wouldn't you say? A girl who can only be seen by moonlight?"

Rolling over, I muttered, "You're such a freakshow."

Her hair splayed across my pillow, tickling my face. "I know," she murmured in my ear. "But you love me, don't you?"

Yeah, I loved her. I couldn't help it. She was my brother.

Feeling Sick

I'd make a good serial killer, he said.
She was amazed they thought I was quiet,
Because to her, I never shut up.

It got me thinking on Identity?
On the question of who am I?

I have so many masks.
Sometimes they get lost,
Or forgot in my absence.
I just paint a new one.
It's no bother,
A habit.

Some hide
Behind words, behind humour
Some get an image, and no longer are seen.
I don't hide.
I show everything.
Everything, you want to see.

I'd say I'm a whole person,
Got a soul, a mind and a body,
I do.
My consciousness isn't split,
It's just too vast to be one personality.
In your eyes, in your eyes it is.
When I'm alone I'm whole.
I am safe.

We evolved because of society,
It's too complicated to understand.
I evolved above all.
Or maybe with all.
I understand, so I hide.

I am no hamster, no gerbil,
To lift up by the ears and laugh.
I'm no sister, no brother, no bother.
I just fill the spaces you never knew you had.

I love you truly,
Don't take this as a confession of disdain.
I care, and I care always.
But darling let me have my secrets.
Let me fib and lie to you.
Let me protect myself from you.

Let me be.
The way I need to be.

Let me believe that too.

For the last week or so, I've been very proud of myself due to my belief that I understood needs of an artist (being one part-time). My belief was centered around the fact that I totally got Rita's need to use someone she sees everyday for the art project and that I was fine with her using me as it.
However I'm not feeling so placid at the moment when mum needs the master bedroom for 6 weeks for her work, and Andrew moved to the living room. With speakers, musical equipment and a keyboard/synthesiser. And that at the moment he's creating in the dark, using all of those thing. And I'm locked out of the living room; and the sofa, television and bookshelves are no longer at my disposal. For the next 6 weeks. Just a tad cranky at the moment.
On another side of things, I have decided to retreat from script frenzy with 60 pages written. And now after such a long time of writing creativity, I need a little bit of artistic creation to go on in my mind. So am hoping to enter the current Deviant Art Competition with a digital piece. We'll how that goes.
Will start editing my art film script soon. It's not finished but I think fiddling with it will set me in the right mood.

Needs of an artist. Never fulfilled.

I came to the realization that I'm treating my blog like my room. I see something shiny and I reel it in to display proudly on the bookshelves. It literally became a me space on the Internet. I also realized that since people starting reading my blog I began writing much less personally, as with blogger you can't keep entry's private. Going to attempt to change that. Will write the personal entry's but post them only when they are no longer personal. Also going to repaint the walls of my world wide web room. Make it more homey. So in the next week or so this space is going to be under maintenance (as last I tried something my coding skills failed big time).

Females Only!

Class Noticeboard!

Help Needed.
Seeking shoes for borrowing, for Sparkly Thing (aka Formal). Size 6/7 (but willing to try anything between 4 and 9). Black or Silver Heels. Please!

(Let's put it this way. As a clothes shopophobic, I decided that 10 dollar flat could tie through one night. Thought wrong. Help Please. Suggestions also welcome. Dress: long, black/grey/blue - photographs available - , silver accessories, hair undecided.)

Иисус воскрес!

It's Russian Easter today. Feeling lonely I must admit. Most family have traditions for Easter, mine is no exception. Today my relatives will be going through a tradition they've done for years. As long as I can remember.
They'll meet up at the family graveyard (where several of the family ancestors are buried), with painted eggs, and bread, and other smaller food things. They'll talk and reminisce and cry.
Then they'll move the celebration to my and mums flat (formerly my grandma's) and have a grand feast. I haven't done that in years. We haven't even brought eatable paints. I do have food colouring....

May either post a new post today, or just add to this one. I am surprisingly in a writing blog mood.

While still avoiding homework, I did some general lurking. I believe I found a new cause for me to support. For those who know me well, you are aware probably that I tend to avoid buying cheapened book in supermarkets and large bookstores and prefer to support the small book shops.

Well here's a newspaper article that supports my cause and in a way adds a new dimension to it.

For those of you wondering why didn't you get a happy birthday, the one below was automated. He, he.
Went dress shopping today. While there got myself an eye check up, as my glasses seem to have a less and less effect. Found out that one eye got worse by 500%. I'll now will have to wear glasses while driving. My eyesight is now, I believe -1.25.
That's quite a shock, I've got to tell you. Brought two sets of glasses, one for school (more stylish), and one for traveling/drawing/photography with bigger lenses and an UltraClear Coating.
Got up to page 48 (?) on my ScriptFrenzy. The passion is gone. Shame.
Drowning in homework as I only began doing any of it this Wednesday. Also does anybody know what I have for Phycology, I've got a note in my diary saying I've got homework but I haven't got a clue what it is.

PS. just try'd on the dress I wore to my Primary School Leaving Dinner. 4 years on and it still fits. People, you didn't miss much, I still look exactly the same.

Happy Birthday...

Happy Birthday Rowan!!!

Saw English Creatives Today.

All were good, but some deserve mentioning.

Mitch's was good. Naturally. Loved the song. And the messed up menu. And ill-timed Monty Python, and the protesters images. Liked a lot of things.

'Dear Mr President' because I know that song. And like that song, and the images served it perfectly.

Anya's just clicked. Her song was "War is Over" the Christmas one. And it just worked. Because other people? Some spoke grand things, but things that we don't feel -things that I don't feel - hers took the same topic but with a different approach. An approach that worked for me.

It made me want to laugh. Not in an amused way, where everything's fine and the sun is shinning and whoops! that man just slipped on a banana. But in a way that makes you want to cry, but crying admits defeat, so you laugh. Laugh in hacking sobs and true amusement and with the knowledge that you're trapped without hope and there's no way out and fighting a losing battle is a really really stupid thing to do. But desperation and hope, are powerful things and you laugh because what else can you do? The fate is already sealed. I know that laughter. The laughter of opression (I guess). I know it well and intimately, because somethings? They only get dulled down and never truly fade from people's memory.


All were good. Some just worked for me.

I shall probably fall of the electronic map for a while.

A hush settles over the crowd
PERSON 1
(reverently) It's beginning!

It was a warm day, which makes me assume it was either spring or summer; summer I personally suspect, as the event was for children so either a weekend or a school holiday. The Lab (MSSL- Mullard Space Science Laboratory where my parents worked) was having a children’s science day; young children mostly. My mum was one of the organizers/helpers and wished me to come along. I dragged a friend, J. One of the things we could do was a treasure hunt, for planets I believe. Each planet had a specific colour marker next to it, in which we needed to mark of our finding. Having done that, and with a barbecue yet to begin we began exploring.

Now before I continue, I believe a background setting is important. MSSL is set on a hill among sheep farms. The building used to be a private boys school and some of such assets have remained. (Like the old wooded sweeping staircase, football field and outdoor swimming pool). The actual research facility was modern, but adjusted to the atmospheric surrounding. But in places the old school was left untouched.

And so, as I said above, we went exploring. More precise I gave a guided tour to my friend. One of the places I showed was odd to say the least. It was a tiny toilet on the top floor. Nothing fascinating by itself you see, but it had a window that led to the roof. You can probably see where this is going.

We sneaked past a scientist next door, and got inside the small room. Now I told her that I already climbed out of the window before and naturally J wanted to go on an Adventure. With a capital A. We locked the door. Unlocked the window and made sure it wouldn’t close and trap us outside. And climbed outside onto the roof from a toilet window. I would love to excuse our actions on young age, but we were in high school and from my memories about to go into Yr 9.

This part of the roof was actually a small courtyard. No actual plants, but a small walk way of a fire escape, still shining metal, but dusty and spider-web covered in misuse. The walkway lead to the next building in a bridge-like fashion, and then later turned and led towards the ground. The bridge part, had large wall rails so they were easy to hide behind if we kept low.

Surprisingly there were pebbles on the roof (or at least they were, we may have went down and got them from the path below). I’m not sure how we reached the idea but we ended up sitting on the bridge and throwing pebbles if anyone passed by – to scare them off/ or did we pretend to be a ghost?- We also tied a red ribbon that used to be in my hair, onto the rails flay in the wind. We probably thought it would appear to be spooky.

And then we talked undisturbed.

I just had an earthquake. A very minor one. But the house shook. It shook. I felt it. My first earthquake. My initial reaction? Again! The walls moved from side to side. The walls moved!!!
Did you have an earthquake?

I'm in the mood to write. Just am. So going to write about books. (Don't look so surprised! If you're reading this you know me well enough.)

Book 1. The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie (Finished)

"In an Empire where rats ruled, he was the king of the rats."- pg9

"It was raining, not violently, but with a quiet, well-bred persistence."-pg327

""The squirrel, my good Georges, collects nuts. He stores them up in the autumn so that they may be of advantage to him later. To make a success of humanity, Georges, we must profit by the lessons of those below us in the animal kingdom. I have always done so. I have been the cat, watching the mouse hole. I have been the good dog following up the scent, and not taking my nose from the trail. And also, my good Georges, I have been the squirrel. I have stored away little fact here, and little fact there. I go now to my store and I take out one particular nut, a nut that I stored away - let me see, seventeen years ago. You follow me, Georges?"" pg296

You know it's good writing when you pick bits to remember for later.

Book 2. Was Napoleon Poisoned? and Other Unsolved Mysteries of Royal History by Peter Haugen (unfinished and will probably remain so)

Sounded interesting. Got it out of the library. Haven't gotten past the introduction but currently it sound much less interesting.

Book 3. Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (unfinished)

On the First Chapter. I left it for a day. Didn't remember names. Damn. This is the type of book one needs to read in one go. Double damn. It thick and I'm not good with graphics novels. Plus Rita wants it. (Well she cant have it, it's mine for three weeks and she read it already.(I think I'll give pretty soon don't you?))

Book 4. Tales of an Urban Werewolf: Howling at the Moon by Karen MacInerney

On chapter 7 or so. 1. I likelove this author. She introduced me to 'cozy' mysteries with her first series, so I was very glad when I saw this book on the library website. So far, not as good as the first series which is a great shame. The third book in that one came out but the library is yet to get it. (This author and her first series are on my 'personal library' list).

Despite all that. It's still good on the whole-or at least so far.


Book 5. Freedom of the City by Brian Friel. (unstarted)

Ok, so yeah I haven't read it. I've been away. And you really don't want to know the amount of books I read in Russia. Lemme do and approximation count:

Ahem. Looked in my Diary Found the Following Poem:
The dark night settles,
Her frost-ridden cloak,
Crunching the armchair .
Leg over leg, hair flapping back,
She smiles at the circle around her.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
Dawn, in her little silk dress,
Waves her feet in the air
and smiles her baby girl smile.
Twilight, snaps her filed sharp teeth
and flicks chapped nail polish.
"We could do with out you..."
Midday is asleep, snuffling slightly,
and the rest carry on
with their own affairs.
A day's gone by,
-and another begins.

I really should keep track of what I write. Should try the idea again.Found some other snippets of poems. Not writing them down.
So books: 15. And that's the ones I remember, and have written down + finished (and I also didn't read the first two weeks there). So school books? Not that much time.

Watercolour Pencils

Because I was feeling slightly inadequate with all these art geniuses I decided to experiment with portraiture and my watercolour pencils. Looks better in real life and from a distance so probably will photograph tomorrow.

I am tempted to ask you to guess who this is, but I know that it is doubtful that anyone knows. This is Captain John Hart as portrayed by James Marsters.

Sometimes, Just Sometimes, I do a Memo

Step 1: Put your MP3 player or whatever on random.
Step 2: Post the first line(s) from the first 20 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: Let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from.
Step 3.5: Don't let them cheat.
Step 4: Strike out the songs when someone guesses correctly.

1. Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner, Sometimes I feel that my only friend is the city I live in the city of Angels. Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chiili Peppers - Jason

2. The lights are on, but you're not home. Your mind is not your own.

3. Everyday I love you less and less. It's clear to see that you become obsessed. Every day I love you less and less by Kaiser Chiefs - Charlotte M

4. Something got me started, You know that I will love you,

5. Young teacher the subject of schoolgirl fantasy.

6. Do I have to change my name? Will it get me far?

7. Don't want you to leave me to the dark, Don't need you to tear my heart apart,

8. A lovestruck Romeo sings a streets a serenade, Laying everybody low with a love song that he made. Romeo and Juliet by the Dire Straits - Burnie

9. Together we will go our way, Together we will leave some day. Go West - Rita

10. Remember the good old 1980's? When things were so uncomplicated.

11. Oh I tried before to tell her, Of the feeling I have for her in my heart.

12. There's a little black spot on the sun today, It's the same old thing as yesterday.

13. I love you, sincerely, Yours truly, yours truly...

14. When two tribes go to war, A point is all you can store.

15.If I, I get to know your name. Well I, could trace your private number baby.

16. I would be your man, you would be my girl, oh yeah. I believe, I do. If there's any justice in the world.

17. It's not her fault that she's so irresistible, But all the damage she's caused isn't fixable.

18. Meeting you, with a view to a kill. Face to face in secret places, feel the chill.

19. Is this the real life, Is this just fantasy, Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen - Jason.

20. I don't like cities, but I like New York. Other places make me feel like a dork.

Hmmm, some are probably obvious, some I think no one would guess. (This is slightly embarrassing on my part, no? But, oh well. )

There is a fire in Heidelberg. It is not reported in the news curretly but I can see it out of my windows and doors. THERE IS A FIRE. Rita is curretly buying art supplies there and Grace and Jason (?) live there.

I can hear the sirens and helicopters.

Time: 16:12

"From what I could see, the fire is near the sports grounds or in that general area at least"

Time: 16:22

Found Fire on News

http://mapvisage.appspot.com/fires/FireMap.html

EAGLEMONT
Region: 13
Location: EAGLEMONT
Date/Time: 12/02/2009 15:58:00
Type: NON STRUCTURE
Status: GOING
Size: SMALL
Vehicles: 5

Not sure if it is the one I see.

Time: 16:32

"Ok, from what I am seeing, it's in the Yarra flats, but according to the news (just now on Channel 7 they had it in there as part of the bushfire news) Ivanhoe is under threat, "

I live in Ivanhoe. Watching Channel 7 as well.

Time: 16:43

The fire's in Ivanhoe. Burning. Grass.

Time:16:58

I'm calmer. Can't see the smoke anymore. One is allowed to panic once in a while. Somehow, this one and the Tasmania one were both calmed by Jason. I need a level head sometimes.

When I go outside, and it's 46 degrees- I think I'm in hell; and nature agrees with me.
Yellowed dull grass, lifeless shrubs, and the landscapes all flat and motionless.
Falling red leaves in February. That's neither here nor there.
I wasn't made for such climates...
Mine is cold winters and cool summers. White landscapes, harshest in beauty.
Where plus 7 feels warm enough to think about forgoing the coat,
And people forget to add minus in front of the number-they are understood either way.
Of hot, passionate hearts and cold, cold logic.
People see summer as flimsy, see-through dresses,
Short bright mini-skirts and walks on the beech.
Now when I think of summer I see is death,
Heat rising from the ground, hot air refusing to fill lungs.
Mirages, and wet pavement, hot drops drying up on the eyes.
Yellowed landscape and brown people, wrinkles and less and less water.
Yellow is the colour of wall in Russian asylums,
Van Gogh painted his house yellow also.
Sunflowers, were they about death too?
The heat is unbearable and sleep elusive.
In better times, in childhood, I remember the summers worth living.
Cold lakes, early morning, fishing and scrapes.
Wars, village on village, bows -made with string - wooden swords, plant spears,
A play untheath the apple tree.
Ground cold and stomped till concrete hardness.
No communication, no phone lines. A white dog; Belka.
Those summer weren't hot. They were filled with rain-storm and
keeping a fire going inside the house, because it was damp and cold.
A hail, holes in the umbrella, hail size of white fists.
I feel nature keenly, and can't sleep when hot, wake up when cold.
Life is monotonous and yet it all changes.

Ummm People

I've just been in the air and in and out airoports for the last 2 or so days. I've been flown St.Petersburg -> Munich (because there is snow in London and our original flight was cancelled) -> London -> Singapoure -> Melbourne. Plus they lost our baggage (so very little clothes, no scissors, and no present for anyone). So at the moment I am .... floppy (?).
I also found out (in Munich) that apparently school for yr10 started early, so people please: which class am I in, and what is the timetable for Thursday?
Will be very grateful for above information, however can't bribe because our suitcases were blooming lost!

(Yeah I'm calm)

(( Just reread what I written, my brain isn't with me at the moment ))

(((Re-read the 2nd time, added please. I need sleep. I can't sleep until it's evening. )))

On the subject of...Frog legs, Psychopath-looking Doctors and June air.

Some of the people I know are currently on a short visit to France, may you enjoy it there.
As for my Mud and Fallow. Well it's right up Fallows alley, she's been there many times; as for Mud. I hope that she'll enjoy her first time in a foreign land and be willing to travel alot in the future (with us two of course.)

As pretty much always I don't have time for a well written article of philosophical line of thought. However two notes:

1. The Eleventh Doctor is upon us!!!
2. And there are rumours that the Children of the Earth (short 3rd season story line) will be aired in June... (On BBC1, which is a big deal)
   

On the subject of... lyrics and dry tissues

Two artistic (meaning, not word for word) translations of Russian songs with lyrics I love:

Она идет по жизни смеясь

She goes through life laughing,

She's as light as wind

Nowhere in the world

Her face won't hit the dirt

A tried method of dealing with questions

Like they're not even there

In everything there's sunlight

She goes throught life laughing

Meeting and parting

No regrets in parting easy

and meeting each time

And all the new faces

Quickly mixing

Into a melting circle

Of friends

She goes throught life laughing

As a guest she's like at home

Where everything is known

Luck is with her

Life is Sucessful

With no exceptions

All with amazment

Watch her leaving

Not noting the night that are spent crying

By the one who goes throught life laughing.

The original, does sound much better however this is the best translation I can give. The tune is amazingly catchy (in style I personally call old-style rock) and it was sung by Машина Времени (Machine of Time).

Иностранец (part of lyrics)

Gift me with the first dance,

Take me away with you,

Far and wide I am a foreigner,

And everywhere I'm like their own,

Like a boat upon the ocean,

I have lost the shore my own,

Far and wide I am a foreigner,

Take me, mother, home.

The Original

Подари мне первый танец,

Забери меня с собой,

Я повсюду иностранец,

И повсюду я вроде бы свой.

Словно лодка в океане,

Затерялся берег мой,

Я повсюду иностранец,

Забери меня, мама, домой

Maybe this will tell you something about me. Maybe it wont. Don't over analyze it please. The original was sung by Валерий Меладзе (and the words and the music were by his brother).

I also suspect that at somepoint I shall take upon my self to translate Russian into English (I do take suggestions).

And finally...

Last weekend: Mother wonders if our visa will let us visit England.

Chance of going to England (for a quick holiday visit): 98%

This saturday: A week of finding absolutely no information and being always re-directed.

Chance of going to England: 60%

This sunday morning: Andrew saying that on the Internet there are tales of similar problems.

Chance of going to England: 10%

This sunday afternoon: Found confirming information in Wikipedia.

Chance of going to England: 0.1%

Chance of running out of dry tissues in the house: 90%

Holiday

My plane landed around 4 in the afternoon in St.Petersburg, Russia. While I have some photographs to show you, only my grandparents have internet and I doupt it's up for uploading photograhs. This also means I only have internet once a week or so.

I am taking a break and am glad to do so. While people can speak English they rarely do it unless they have to, so I am surrounded by Russians, it is 11 in the morning, and the outside tempreture is -12. The daylight hours last between 10 (in the morning) and 4 (in the afternoon). Well, when I say daylight, I mean it is somewhat lighter than at night, generally not enough light to read by the window. Accourding to my grandparents, today is the fourth day of when they could see the actual sun since the beginging of winter several months ago.

This is as far from Australia as one could get, cold, no-one speaks English and it is on the other side of the world. And I am relaxed.

A slight book review: Agatha Christie emains the Queen of Crime and 'The murder of Roger Ackroyd' proves it. I can't say a lot without giving away the plot. But if you are looking for a master peice: it is well worth reading.