new.

here i am, in newcastle, new south wales, living in my new house, with my newly-non-long-distance boyfriend.

newcastle is a strange place. i find myself getting frustrated with it, but i think one of the main reasons is its utter non-englishness. now, as an individual who has elected to move here out of choice, this is probably something i need to get over.

it's such a sparse city. as a non-driver, this is pretty dampening...i'm so used to being able to walk or cycle everywhere, or at least being able to cycle or catch a bus to a specific hustly-bustly centre, where everything i need is within easy walking radius. but now, i'm landed in a loosely associated muddle of suburbs, each with different amenities on offer. even though i live in 'central' newcastle, the nearest supermarket is a 15 minute bus ride away. i'm a 5 minute walk from the australian equivalent of the main 'high street', and it's fairly small, and never particularly busy. after spending the summer in london, i thought i would revel at the chance to shop in a quiet atmosphere. but it's just plain odd.

i think, subconsciously, i've grown up feeling that busy places are good places; where the people are is where the life is. if i were to walk to a store or a park and only see about 5 others en route, i would start to doubt whether the place was even open. where is everyone?! it makes me feel very disconnected; paranoid even.

i want to feel proud that this is my home; it's been a lot of work getting here. i know of lots of people who have grown up here and attended uni here, and are happy to seek work here. so there must be something to it. i just don't get it. are people in denial about this city, or am i just missing something? worse still; maybe the only reason this doesn't feel so homely is because it's not england.

i know what there is to love; the beaches, the gorgeous cafes, the bogey hole. but why don't i love it?

lincoln.

old york.

acceptance.

a great way of encouraging all the best parts of you to shine through,
a great way of stimulating of your own acceptance of who you are and where you fit;

is to surround yourself with good friends whose diverse characters and skills have led them through equally diverse places and positions and experiences,

...to remind yourself that the entire notion of 'normality' is utter bullshit, and that happiness is everywhere you care to look for it.

everything is going to be ok. it's easier to remind yourself of this when your friends are supportive, and not competitive.

winter.

...maybe i will miss little bits of you.

rage 2008.

The quality is terrible but you get the idea.

OH MY GOD. I have never felt so much excitement in a crowd. The anticipation. The heat. We were so ready for it you could feel it in the air. Mental. Amazing amazing amazing. 

Getting excited for the Foos in December. FUCK CHA.

i don't know about my dreaming anymore.

lucky enough to catch this beauty twice at two very different british music festivals, latitude in suffolk and field day in london.

fighting.

every time i tell someone new or old, a relative or a friend, a co-worker or a stranger about my plans for the next 18 months of my life, i find myself fighting.

admittedly, not aggressively, but definitely passionately. i fight to defend my plans against their criticisms or implied opinions. i also have to fight to stay positive about my plans in my own mind, which is difficult when no-one seems to have many qualms on giving me their thoughts about it all.

i can't expect people not to give their opinions, and i know that no-one does it to upset me, or even to provoke any sort of emotion or lingering thought. but obviously it does.

i have to keep asserting the facts and the reasons as to why i am doing what i am doing, and also why it really doesn't matter what 95% of people who have an opinion on the matter say or think.

although i know that this could all fall down, and that i will miss my family, friends and this country, and that   i didn't work hard for four years as a scientist to be a waitress or a cleaner or a telemarketer...i also know that 

this is the oppurtunity of a lifetime.

my passion, my qualifications, my ambition and my spirit aren't going anywhere. my career can wait. my heart can't. i'm not throwing anything away. quite the opposite in fact; i'm spreading my arms so far wide with such enthusiastic openness, a willingness to learn, and no pre-judgement or specified intention that i'll scoop up anything i can get.

this is what i tell anyone who doubts me...

...but it's also what i have to tell myself. 

looses.

the essence of the thing.

That's right, I did it. I finished a book. Though I will admit I had to skip a few chunks... for reasons which will follow.

The Essence of the Thing, by Madeline St John


The book appealed to me because, like almost everyone, I've been through a relationship break up. It's not an original concept I know, but the novel still appealed. The story follows twenty-something Nicola through the weeks that follow an unexpected end to her long term relationship with lawyer Jonathan.

I appreciate the short chapters and the conversational style, as there were times when it was effective at emphasising a narrative or a concept without it being outlined for the reader in what would have been a more patronising manner. The blurb suggests that the short chapters are reflective of middle class pretence, and I can appreciate this too. That none of the other characters but Nicola are really predominantly focussed on her break-up also emphasises the perhaps self centered, busy-body attitude of the London-ite middle class 'status' families she is (for some reason) friends with.

Generally however, the story disappointed me with its pace, its reasoning, its perspective and its character...Sorry Ms St John. I was given no reason to believe that Nicola and Jonathan would have even been a couple, and a happy one at that. That Nicola manages herself so gracefully and modestly throughout her turmoil indicates that she is not stupid, or shallow, or unreasonable. But for her to have been involved for so long with a man so apparently emotionally void really confuses me. Also, for Nicola to be transformed to a blubbering wreck of woman to a proudly single and defiant one over the space of one night in a night club (with two fabulous gay guys; complete with montage makeover if it were a movie, I'm sure) is a depressingly stereotypical and lazy way to give some illusion of progression.

If I was a guy, I think I'd find the book a little offensive if I'm honest. Jonathan is portrayed as a shallow, dull, selfish, and irresponsible man; the stereotypical 'bad guy' in a relationship break down. I was hoping that this stereotype would be diffused throughout the story as we perhaps found out why or how he had adopted this attitude. But no, he continues to be a dull and lifeless sod until the very end, when (randomly) he starts to beg for Nicola to come back- this is where I had to stop reading. Anyone who has gone through a horrendous breakup, and thinks that they can identify with this story obviously needs closure. People don't just become dicks overnight because they are men. There is reasoning and explanation behind every relationship breakdown. I'm not saying that it can never not 'be someone's fault', but this was an extremely one-dimensional perspective of relationships, people and particularly men.

So much about the book seemed completely unnecessary (maybe this was supposed to add to the 'realistic' tone; that we were literally just watching a series of events unfold), and yet so many necessary explanations seemed to have been completely forgotten.

Oh, also.: I don't know when the book is set but everyone talks like it's 1945 ("Whizzy!"). It was published in 1997 and there is no indication it was set in a different era to this. Upon then reading that the author is Australian, and then noticing the number of pointless 'Oh look, we're in London' references, it's just all very embarrassing to read.

No thanks, please avoid.

norwich.

I'll miss you.

kate & will.

Yes, OK, I'm going there, a royal wedding post.

I didn't think I would be bothered by it, I didn't plan on watching it. But I did. And I enjoyed it too.

It's wonderful that we can feel so united as a nation. It's happened a lot in recent years; I don't know if it's because I'm just old enough to notice it or because of the economy that it's happening more.I think it's great that we can come together to protest and be passionate. But today, for once, we all came together and were united in celebration. Royalty amongst politicians amongst celebrities amongst everyone else, we were all celebrating one occasion together.

I think that's really beautiful. That the country (and the world) can be so complicated and divided, yet we are all united with the genuine happiness and hope that comes from seeing a young, beautiful, dignified couple starting their lives together.

A lot of the time I find it hard to find energy to be optimistic about my future in this complicated world, so apparently full or turmoil and traps; that everything will collapse on top of me as I struggle to strive forward into adulthood. As a soon-to-be graduate, I am genuinely concerned for the my future, my family's future, my future family's future and the future of the world, when it so consistently feels as though the odds are stacked against all of us. Days like today remind me that, no matter how complicated and difficult and intimidating times can be, love is a constant and over-riding factor.

Congratulations to William and Kate. xx

heckyeatumblr#9.

http://tumblr.com/xsx1xkgzm5

9. Write about each of the places which you have called 'home'.


Kelso Road, Bury St Edmunds


This is the house where I grew up. I lived here for 11 happy years with my Mum, Dad, sister and number of guinea-pigs and gerbils. It was a smallish house, with a little garden. I remember that every surface was covered in ornamental pigs or pot plants, courtesy of Mum. We had a rubber plant which grew all the way around the living room ceiling. There was at least one cabinet full of the pigs, and they filled the mantelpiece of the fireplace, in front of which sat four very heavy brass crocodiles, which were most definitely not meant to be toys but were always used as such.


There was one bathroom, which was decorated luminous turquoise and black, with some sort of fish in every potential fishy space (ie on top of the toilet, on the window ledge, on the ceiling).


The upstairs hallway, like the rest of the house, was small, but it managed to have room for a huge copy of Steve Pearson's 'Wings of Love', with an overly ornate gold frame.

The Warren

This is the first house my parents ever looked at buying, but as a newly wed couple they couldn't afford it. Fifteen years later the house went back up on the market and they could - so we moved 10 minutes up the road into a beautiful chalet bungalow with a large (for a town-house) garden. We've been here 11 years now, and since then basically re-built the whole thing, as a lot of work was needed. I love this house. It really is like a warren; there's a main hallway with lots of little rooms coming off it, including a hidden staircase which leads to the upstairs, where I live when I come home now. Nice and private since my sister moved out two years ago. Mum and Dad spend all their time in the garden with various odd jobs and gardening, Mum grows heaps of vegetables when the weather lets her, and Dad takes care of all the fruit trees and rhubarb. There's lots of 'stuff' everywhere, but I love all of it, because it's home. Since my grandparents died, we took on some of the ornaments and furniture and paintings. They lived in a really big old country house with high ceilings; their things look COMPLETELY out of place here, but I think that's pretty cool. My great-grandmother was a painter, and we have several of her paintings up, even though they take up half the bloody wall space.


The Ziggurats
 I lived on campus for my first year at university. I had my own little room in a flat for 14 people on the ground floor of the the 'ziggurats', which are listed buildings. Sharing a kitchen with 13 other people was...interesting. And I definitely wouldn't live there again. But I made some really cool friends, and I am glad I spent my first year there.

Bland Road

I have lived here on and off for the past three years, though with different people as registered 'tenants' at each of the addresses, I have more or less lived with the same group of friends, as everyone loiters and we hang out a lot, and cook for each other. I spend a lot of my time being miserable and whining about the state of the house, as it's pretty gross...no-one else really cleans apart from me. To be honest, it's a shame that I have had to live with the friends that I have lived with because if we had never been housemates I think we would all be closer, as I wouldn't be so angry with them a lot of the time. Despite this, I love being able to eat with my friends every evening, and I love that I have met and got to know some of the most interesting, independent, cultured, obscure (?!), honest, loving and passionate people I think I have ever met. As well as this, adventures with aforesaid house mates make for i) some pretty cool anecdotes and ii) some vital life-lessons in patience....

Evatt House

This is where I lived during my year at Newcastle Uni, Australia. I loved it here. There were two 'quads' comprised of 10 blocks in total, each block being two flats of 10. Each flat had their own 'Residential Assistant', and participated in 'blunctions' regularly, which could have been trips to a restaurant, to a movie, dessert night etc...The college had heaps of activities going on all the time, games and nights out....I miss it :( It's also where I met my boyfriend, Sam. He lived just across the hallway from me...we would stay up late talking on facebook chat because we were too shy to go and see each other...sometimes I could hear him typing...Unfortunately keyboards are a major part of our relationship again now, but not for too much longer. I made some really awesome friends here, and even though lots of them have moved on to new cities/ states, I really hope they can come visit/ I have enough money to go and visit them.

Writing all this is making me very sad. So I'll stop now. 

tea room set.

sunshine.

Today was the first truly gorgeous day of the year.
It only just hit 7 degrees but the sunshine was beautiful.

You don't have to be outside to tell when the weather is nice in England: everyone just beams with enthusiasm when the weather takes a good turn. It's like we're coming out of hibernation.

On the plus side, moving to Australia will GUARANTEE more days like this. On the down side, those guys can really take their weather for granted over there. It's unlikely that the sunny nature of the sky will reflect the average persons resultant disposition.

I'm hoping I can be different than that: and I'll always be happy!

Here's hoping :)

Looking forward to sharing my life, my weather, my daylight and smiles with a certain floppy haired Aussie gent. x

tgif.

today was a good day.

i think it went well because i started it well: with a run, which never fails to cheer me up. yet it will always be a struggle to do it either i) first thing in the morning or ii) when i'm super depressed. oh body, you ironic little thing you.

no-one can be sad in a dress bought from a side street store with the label 'tumbling cat print' + brogues

all things homely and British

all things royal

earlham park has seen sunnier days it can be said

oh uea is wonderful

very norfolk

some spring-y greens are starting to peep through those hardy winter browns...

tree cluster on the broad

interesting buildings that always remind me of silly silly first year times

productivity + cuteness = passable boredom

good (bad) food

vintage game shows

more good (bad) food

...and some muriel + a doona.

little things.

xoxo