I have a degree in English, emphasis in creative writing with a minor in theatre.
So basically I have spent a lot of time and money one being able to see a movie, read a book, see a play and point out what they should have done differently.
Now I don't believe if you follow the rules you will end up with a perfect story. That's rediculous. And your loyality, as an artist, is to your piece, not to your critics.
But here are somethings that I feel are very important for artists to take note of.
1. "In the beginning" (Janelle, if you or any Children of Eden veterans are reading this then you are welcome for the song now pulling you into a post-traumatic stress disorder flash back.)
Writer's, especially beginning writers, begin too early. You need to know what you write. But your reader doesn't need to know all that.
Expostition should be as short as possible.
Who are we with?
Where are we?
Answer those questions and move on to the plot.
2. Deus ex Machina -- Don't do it.
For those of you who had a life in college beyond classic Greek texts this means when a god-like figure arrives at the last minute and saves everything.
Biggest let down for audience or readers who wanted to see how your protagonist was going to triumph against all odds. Now all they get to see is a plot interrupted.
3. CONFLICT
I cannot emphasize this enough.
Now, just in case you are confused. Conflict is not a battle. It is not agent X stopping the bomb with minutes to spare. It is not even your name being drawn in a death lottery.
These things are "external conflict". It does have its place. That is where most the plot comes from.
However, external conflict is never, never, enough on its own. It needs its friend Internal conflict. Faulkner wrote that the only thing worth writing about was "the human heart in conflict with itself".
For example in the King Arthur legend Guinevere loves Lancelot. Lancelot loves Gueneiver. But she is married to King Arthur. Who is a good king and a good husband. Gueniever refuses to leave him. She loves him. Lancelot hates himself for his love of Gueienver because Arthur is a beacon of all that is good to him. Arthur knows what they are doing behind his back. But he refuses to do anything about it because he thinks that if he admits he knows the truth they will both leave him. They are his family. So one does anything until the enemies of Camelot take advantage and Arthur is faced with a choice-- watch his wife be burned alive or allow the kingdom of justice he has fought for crumble.
See that is conflict!! Impossible made worse by relationships.
Beautiful. That is why the King Arthur legend has lasted so long.
Unfortunately is is a tragedy so in this particular case the situation really is impossible. They all die and the kingdom is destroyed anyway. Sorry if I just gave something away.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
The Irish
Guys the Irish are so nice.
When I first got here my host mom was like "People here are the nicest in the world."
Being my cynical self I was like "Okay." But thinking. Well, you would of course think that. It is just what you are going to think.
But it is true. It is completely true.
I have lived a lot of places. But the Irish are just so naturally nice.
Like this weekend I was freezing because the heating was off in my acting studio and I already had a cold.
Then this classmate of mine went down to restaurant (we use a room upstairs) to ask them if they would please turn the heating on for us. They weren't able to please turn up the heating. They couldn't because the manager with the keys had left for Mass. "Welcome to Ireland." As my friend said. But then instead of just running back upstairs she bought herself a tea and me a hot chocolate. This is a great girl, but we are little more than aquaintances. But she still bought me a warm drink just because.
Not only that she bought me a warm beverage that wasn't tea or coffee. Possibly the only thing that the Irish and the English agree on is the necessity of tea.
The thing with this film class is the commute. I am sure I have ranted about this before. But, anyway here we go again. To get to this class I have to leave Friday night, 3 hours on a bus. Then stay at a hostel. They know me by name now. Then Saturday I go to class and then another 3 hours on a bus.
Upon hearing this two people-- neither of whom had known me more than the morning-- offered that I could stay with them. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to offer a spare room to a stranger. Which, at least in America, it isn't. One even said. "I've only just met you but you don't seem like an axe murderer or a thief of any kind. So here is my card. We women have to look out for each other."
Then there are the people at the hostel I stay at weekely (despite the nice invitations my American sense of privacy can't just let me invade someone's home unless we are blood relatives or have known each other long enough we might as well be.)
They let me skip the line to check in or check out.
They give me travel tips.
They are my friends.
Then sometimes when I am walking with my kids ( the kids that I mind) and waiting to cross a road someone in oncoming traffic will stop, thus stopping all traffic, just to let us pass.
Today this happened. And while I was walking with the little girl across the road she starts screaming. I knew she had dropped her glove. So I told her we would just wait until the cars went by and we'd go back and get it.
Then the nice guy who had stopped traffic for us pulled over. Got out of his car, picked up her glove and crossed the road to give it to us.
It was so nice.
And these are (relative) strangers. Not the awesome people in my ward or my awesome family. These are just people on the street. Bottom line. The Irish are awesome.
When I first got here my host mom was like "People here are the nicest in the world."
Being my cynical self I was like "Okay." But thinking. Well, you would of course think that. It is just what you are going to think.
But it is true. It is completely true.
I have lived a lot of places. But the Irish are just so naturally nice.
Like this weekend I was freezing because the heating was off in my acting studio and I already had a cold.
Then this classmate of mine went down to restaurant (we use a room upstairs) to ask them if they would please turn the heating on for us. They weren't able to please turn up the heating. They couldn't because the manager with the keys had left for Mass. "Welcome to Ireland." As my friend said. But then instead of just running back upstairs she bought herself a tea and me a hot chocolate. This is a great girl, but we are little more than aquaintances. But she still bought me a warm drink just because.
Not only that she bought me a warm beverage that wasn't tea or coffee. Possibly the only thing that the Irish and the English agree on is the necessity of tea.
The thing with this film class is the commute. I am sure I have ranted about this before. But, anyway here we go again. To get to this class I have to leave Friday night, 3 hours on a bus. Then stay at a hostel. They know me by name now. Then Saturday I go to class and then another 3 hours on a bus.
Upon hearing this two people-- neither of whom had known me more than the morning-- offered that I could stay with them. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to offer a spare room to a stranger. Which, at least in America, it isn't. One even said. "I've only just met you but you don't seem like an axe murderer or a thief of any kind. So here is my card. We women have to look out for each other."
Then there are the people at the hostel I stay at weekely (despite the nice invitations my American sense of privacy can't just let me invade someone's home unless we are blood relatives or have known each other long enough we might as well be.)
They let me skip the line to check in or check out.
They give me travel tips.
They are my friends.
Then sometimes when I am walking with my kids ( the kids that I mind) and waiting to cross a road someone in oncoming traffic will stop, thus stopping all traffic, just to let us pass.
Today this happened. And while I was walking with the little girl across the road she starts screaming. I knew she had dropped her glove. So I told her we would just wait until the cars went by and we'd go back and get it.
Then the nice guy who had stopped traffic for us pulled over. Got out of his car, picked up her glove and crossed the road to give it to us.
It was so nice.
And these are (relative) strangers. Not the awesome people in my ward or my awesome family. These are just people on the street. Bottom line. The Irish are awesome.
Friday, November 30, 2012
One of those days.
What happens when a cold and a flu germ form an alliance in your body? It
happened to me today. I was feeling guilty for not being more fun for children due to all of us being sick. .
The milk was off this morning. I was so busy getting the children something with good milk I spaced on getting myself a new bowl of granola or a new cup of hot chocolate.
I spilled half my lunch on the floor. Apparently I can't turn around from the sink to the micro-wave without spilling a bowl of pre-scrambled scrambled eggs all over the kitchen floor.
This resulted in a small lunch after a small breakfast.
I know this is my fault for not eating more later.
General coughing and feeling dizzy.
Stressed out about grad. schools stuff.
Stressed about if I will be able to do my mono well enough in my acting class. It requires a performance of extreme emotional lengths.
Stressing out about not getting enough exercise combined with my habit of
eating too many chips. (French Fries.) And what this combination is doing to my
figure. Student loans, while perfectly manageable, I hate being in dept.
Got sick to my stomach on the bus. But. Despite this entire guess what I did do today?
I finished a draft of novel.
Which means for the first time in my life I am a National (Let's face it, it is international) Novel Writing Month Winner!!!!!
That's right. I completed (barely) over 50'000 words in one month.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Thanksgiving
Yes I am away from home this thanksgiving.
No this doesn't bother me.
Anyway today my host mom was like "Are you homesick today?"
Me: "No."
Host mom: "Not even a little bit?"
Me: "Not really. No."
Traditionally Americans play the grateful game. You sit around the table and take turns saying what you are grateful for. You know, before you wake up at an unholy hour the next day to bludgeon other people for new things.
My family never really did this because we take eating very seriously. We were much too busy eating and sleeping off what we'd eaten and eating more and possibly watching a geeky movie to bother with sentimental traditions.
But here we go. Things I'm grateful for in no particular order.
1. One of the few traditions we did have at thanksgiving was watching an old, recorded, episode of Alton Brown's "Good Eats". The show's host with his wire rimmed glassed and cynicism could have been my dad's twin. So that was fun to watch him make the perfect turkey and be-little all his fellow cast members.
2. BBC nothing like good drama!!
3. The film class I have been taking and the very helpful tutors and coaches there.
4. Being in Ireland.
5. Hot showers.
6. Bed.
7. That I finally graduated this year!
8. Swedish Fish. I haven't had them in a long time.
9. Scarves. They are possibly my favorite clothing article.
10. Cornelia Funke books.
11. Harry Potter.
12. Shakespeare.
Yeah that's really all the energy I have. My computer lost everything I did yesterday for NaNoWriMo so now I'm behind again.
No this doesn't bother me.
Anyway today my host mom was like "Are you homesick today?"
Me: "No."
Host mom: "Not even a little bit?"
Me: "Not really. No."
Traditionally Americans play the grateful game. You sit around the table and take turns saying what you are grateful for. You know, before you wake up at an unholy hour the next day to bludgeon other people for new things.
My family never really did this because we take eating very seriously. We were much too busy eating and sleeping off what we'd eaten and eating more and possibly watching a geeky movie to bother with sentimental traditions.
But here we go. Things I'm grateful for in no particular order.
1. One of the few traditions we did have at thanksgiving was watching an old, recorded, episode of Alton Brown's "Good Eats". The show's host with his wire rimmed glassed and cynicism could have been my dad's twin. So that was fun to watch him make the perfect turkey and be-little all his fellow cast members.
2. BBC nothing like good drama!!
3. The film class I have been taking and the very helpful tutors and coaches there.
4. Being in Ireland.
5. Hot showers.
6. Bed.
7. That I finally graduated this year!
8. Swedish Fish. I haven't had them in a long time.
9. Scarves. They are possibly my favorite clothing article.
10. Cornelia Funke books.
11. Harry Potter.
12. Shakespeare.
Yeah that's really all the energy I have. My computer lost everything I did yesterday for NaNoWriMo so now I'm behind again.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
NANOWRIMO
Those of you who know what NANOWRIMO is are wondering why I am writing a blog rather than working on my NANOWRIMO. But I ask you, what are you doing reading my blog rather than working on yours?
So, let's agree to not judge each other for needing breaks.
Anyway.
For those of you who don't know what NANOWRMO is this blog is an attempt to elighten you.
National-- Though it's pretty international now.
Novel -- 50,000 words of fiction. I hate the label "fiction". As if epic poems, teleplays, screenplays and scripts are not "fiction" for the purpose of my defintion I am saying that fiction is anything that is not based in reality. The novel is 50'000 plus words in a book MS format. But I guess you got the book part worked out from the novel thing. Forget it. This whole defination was a waste of space.
Writing-- Giving the truth scope!!! Or sitting your butt down and typing, scribbling and trying not to get sucked into Netflix... too often. I mean, we all need inspiration.
Month "one-twelfth of a solar or tropical year. " Thank you dictionary.com
Okay. Basically people attempt to write an entire novel manuscript in one month's time.Why? Because getting an English degree was painful. Horrible. Now we are so used to punishing ourselves with the written word that we can't stop!!!
No, really, it's because we want to write. And this is a month to prove to yourself that you don't want to write, but that you do write pretty fun and great.
Here is what I have learned in this expedition.
1. Art is time management.
This was the catch phrase of a professor in the art department I used to model for.
2. It's actually not that difficult to get 2000 words down a day.
3. It is EXCRUCIATING to get 2000 words done a day.
4. Headphones give me a headache.
I think that's all I've learned. But it's actually really fun. I encourage all to try. Don't be inhibited that you have started late. Here's a calculator to help you figure out daily word count. http://www.intothelabyrinth.net/mystuff/nanocounter/
Also, I have a bunch of friends who already have a draft and are celebrating "Revise" version of Nanowrimo. They are editing like crazy this month instead of word vomiting.
Or, one of my favorite writers is celebrating this month by just writing whenever she can. Like she doesn't give herself a word count, but she still writes. Like non-organized NANOWRIMO.
So, not that's all I got. I have to go get a few thousand words written... or at least a few words.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Writing Interview Thing
Okay.
In the Spring of 2010 I toured Ireland, the British Isles, and France with my school's British Literary Tour.
On this tour I made about 40 great friends. We are scattered all over the globe now. Literally. Idaho, Washington, Japan, and Ireland to name just a few.
But a few of us shared the ambition to write. Over the years we have kept in contact and motivated and bullied each other into reaching goals. We've also consoled during rejection; and bragged about successes.
Anyway. Finally Jenni made an official FB group for us. And then it grew into a larger community after the original people invited their friends who wanted to write... anyway. A fellow member of our group, Amber, asked me to participate in this writing/author interview thing.
So, here we go.
But normal "I'm disenchanted with reality" angst gave me the idea for a story about harsh reality.
Q7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
In conclusion I didn't tag anyone. But if Janelle, or Kimberly, or Bayley, or Kjerstin, or Joseph read this they can continue the tradition. Well, no Bayley is family so I don't have to be polite. Bayley. Do this. I command you by authority of older cousin !!!!!
In the Spring of 2010 I toured Ireland, the British Isles, and France with my school's British Literary Tour.
On this tour I made about 40 great friends. We are scattered all over the globe now. Literally. Idaho, Washington, Japan, and Ireland to name just a few.
But a few of us shared the ambition to write. Over the years we have kept in contact and motivated and bullied each other into reaching goals. We've also consoled during rejection; and bragged about successes.
Anyway. Finally Jenni made an official FB group for us. And then it grew into a larger community after the original people invited their friends who wanted to write... anyway. A fellow member of our group, Amber, asked me to participate in this writing/author interview thing.
So, here we go.
Q1. What is the working title of your book?
Why are we starting with such a hard one? I have big block with titles and names. Um, probably something like Identity Crisis. I know I should know my working title but hey.
Q2. Where did the idea for the book originate?
I was 22 and stranded at home after an internship had fallen through. I was also saving up for upcoming school by working my high school fast food job. So I felt like I sucked at life.
But normal "I'm disenchanted with reality" angst gave me the idea for a story about harsh reality.
Q3. What genre does your book fall under?
I would say YA spy/adventure thriller. But mostly it's a story on the loss of innocence, being wrong, and growing up.
Q4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
The only character I see set in stone is the supporting lead Althea. I see her as the actress Laura Spencer, with her very sweet and innocent looks. Which is ironic because this character goes through very awful things and becomes probably the least innocent.
Q5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
"To Megan the idea of being anonymous by becoming a spy and leaving all her problems sounded too good to be true; turns out she was right."
Q6. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
Well I want to be represented. But I feel like that's in the future. Right now I need to focus and making plot discoveries and becoming friends with the characters. However if any agents want to change my mind I might be open to persuasion.
Still technically working on the first draft because I have tried several dead end paths with it.
Q8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Ally Carter's Gallagher Girl books. But more gritty. I don't think I'll allow my characters an undercover prom.
Q9. Who or what inspired you to write this book?
Honestly probably my obsession with the BBC show Spooks. Because of this show I have a love for spy things. But I was greatly disappointed in the majority of the spy-fiction I tried. It was all using the espionage setting to basically enable the characters to do whatever they wanted. No consequences and no concerns. Okay here is my story belief 101: "Limitations are more important than abilities." I mean okay we can have a hit man who wandered around Italy just shooting as many bad guys as possible before heading to a hotel with a rich heiress. But that's not really a story. It's a narrative about a fantasy. A story means trouble, means less than perfect characters, means characters who don't have a perfect life. They have to be working for something. And there has to be conflict. Serious conflict.
So darn it, I decided to write what I wanna read!!
So darn it, I decided to write what I wanna read!!
Q10. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
Wow this should not be such a difficult question. Um-- one bad guy gets a broken bottle to the throat.
Oh a love triangle that is suspenseful rather than gross or annoying. Is it okay to say that about your own work? It seems to me to read presumptuously. Anyway. Though I feel like the Love Triangle generally abused to becoming the next cliche I also think if done correctly it is one of the most compelling archetypes. I mean, King Arthur, anyone ?? Okay maybe I am the only one who loves king Arthur.
Oh a love triangle that is suspenseful rather than gross or annoying. Is it okay to say that about your own work? It seems to me to read presumptuously. Anyway. Though I feel like the Love Triangle generally abused to becoming the next cliche I also think if done correctly it is one of the most compelling archetypes. I mean, King Arthur, anyone ?? Okay maybe I am the only one who loves king Arthur.
In conclusion I didn't tag anyone. But if Janelle, or Kimberly, or Bayley, or Kjerstin, or Joseph read this they can continue the tradition. Well, no Bayley is family so I don't have to be polite. Bayley. Do this. I command you by authority of older cousin !!!!!
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Weekend off
So this weekend is a Bank-Holiday Weekend. If you are reading this in the states, you have probably already figured out, that this is a three day weekend.
Anyway, as such, my acting class was giving the weekend off.
Now I love my acting class. Two amazing hours of improv, acting for camera, script analysis and character disection. Sometimes followed by lunch at the local vegitarian resturant where we share stories and talk about ambitions over scones, garbonzo beans and smoothies.
I love all that.
But this class is in Cork.
About 3 hours away from where I live. Consider the provided map of Ireland. I live in Galway, the West-coast county that is sort of lavender colored.
My acting class is in Cork. The southern point mustered colored county.
So to to get to said acting class I have to do a lot of juggling. Is it worth it?
Yes.
Is it nice to have a weekend off?
Oh yes.
So I went into Galway city and window shopped. I believe I have said before how much I love bookstores. To me they are holy shrines with shelves and shelves of stories, ideas, and possibilities. Because books have such strong effects on our minds. It's like you're not only shopping for a book, your shopping for an experence that will change you. Anyway.
Then it was freezing. So after lunch I cut my shopping short, came home and talked to the family.
So I guess it was boring in some ways. But it did trillions of good for my sanity.
Anyway, as such, my acting class was giving the weekend off.
Now I love my acting class. Two amazing hours of improv, acting for camera, script analysis and character disection. Sometimes followed by lunch at the local vegitarian resturant where we share stories and talk about ambitions over scones, garbonzo beans and smoothies.
I love all that.
But this class is in Cork.
About 3 hours away from where I live. Consider the provided map of Ireland. I live in Galway, the West-coast county that is sort of lavender colored. My acting class is in Cork. The southern point mustered colored county.
So to to get to said acting class I have to do a lot of juggling. Is it worth it?
Yes.
Is it nice to have a weekend off?
Oh yes.
So I went into Galway city and window shopped. I believe I have said before how much I love bookstores. To me they are holy shrines with shelves and shelves of stories, ideas, and possibilities. Because books have such strong effects on our minds. It's like you're not only shopping for a book, your shopping for an experence that will change you. Anyway.
Then it was freezing. So after lunch I cut my shopping short, came home and talked to the family.
So I guess it was boring in some ways. But it did trillions of good for my sanity.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Sunday School
Today in church one of my friends came up to me after Sacrament meeting and asked if I would do him a big favor.
I knew it would a big favor because of how long he paused before continuing. True principles from Seinfeld.
But I had no idea what it was so I said sure.
"Could you teach Sunday School for me? I have to go home." He asked.
I think I replied with something like "Uhhhhhhhhh."
Then he reminded me I already had the same lesson prepared because I am youth Sunday school teacher. True.
So. That's how I ended up teaching my first adult Sunday School lesson. Which was actually a week behind, they had already had the lesson I had prepared.
Opps.
Then I realized I was one of the youngest people in the room.
Youngest person in the room: Infant. Adorable little boy who isn't even a year old yet.
Second Youngest Person: His older sister. One of my youth I teach in my Sunday School class.
Third Youngest Person: Me. Teaching all these people who have had multiple leadership roles in the church.
But they were all very nice and I don't think I turned red too often. So that's good.
I knew it would a big favor because of how long he paused before continuing. True principles from Seinfeld.
But I had no idea what it was so I said sure.
"Could you teach Sunday School for me? I have to go home." He asked.
I think I replied with something like "Uhhhhhhhhh."
Then he reminded me I already had the same lesson prepared because I am youth Sunday school teacher. True.
So. That's how I ended up teaching my first adult Sunday School lesson. Which was actually a week behind, they had already had the lesson I had prepared.
Opps.
Then I realized I was one of the youngest people in the room.
Youngest person in the room: Infant. Adorable little boy who isn't even a year old yet.
Second Youngest Person: His older sister. One of my youth I teach in my Sunday School class.
Third Youngest Person: Me. Teaching all these people who have had multiple leadership roles in the church.
But they were all very nice and I don't think I turned red too often. So that's good.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Just becuase you're paranoid...
The last few nights have been full or errands. When I was a kid errands were fun. They meant leaving the house, and generally the possibility of mom buying sweets and probably taking us to the library.
They aren't like that anymore.
Okay. There are still sweets involved. But that is just because it takes a rediculous amount of sugar and chocolate to get me motivated to do anything. And now I have to buy the sweets myself. Which just makes me feel guilty for spending money.
Anyway. The other night I was in town, running late, fighting the flu, and stressed because everything was closed so I couldn't even get the things done I needed to.
I was walking towards the currency exchange place on the off chance that it was open (it wasn't.) When a guy walking towards me reached into his jacket and pulled something out. Now when I say pulled something out I mean he extended his arm, with this smallish, black object in hand, towards my bubble.
I thought "Oh my gosh! A tazer!!! He is going to assult me!! Here? is he stupid? no, the street is dark, there aren't many people around... Oh my goodness they are probably his accomplises!!! Have I walked into a human trafficing ring!!! This is the perfect spot for them to hang out!! Right in front of the tourist info, removed, dark and only tourist would not know it was removed, dark and closed at this time of night!! Or he could just pretend that he was my brother and I was having seasure!!!"
These and other thoughts swarmed in my head for the split second before I realized that he the smallish, black object was his i-pod and he was extending his arm in my direction in order to untangle the head-phones.
Yes, comments about my morbid imagination have been made before.
They aren't like that anymore.
Okay. There are still sweets involved. But that is just because it takes a rediculous amount of sugar and chocolate to get me motivated to do anything. And now I have to buy the sweets myself. Which just makes me feel guilty for spending money.
Anyway. The other night I was in town, running late, fighting the flu, and stressed because everything was closed so I couldn't even get the things done I needed to.
I was walking towards the currency exchange place on the off chance that it was open (it wasn't.) When a guy walking towards me reached into his jacket and pulled something out. Now when I say pulled something out I mean he extended his arm, with this smallish, black object in hand, towards my bubble.
I thought "Oh my gosh! A tazer!!! He is going to assult me!! Here? is he stupid? no, the street is dark, there aren't many people around... Oh my goodness they are probably his accomplises!!! Have I walked into a human trafficing ring!!! This is the perfect spot for them to hang out!! Right in front of the tourist info, removed, dark and only tourist would not know it was removed, dark and closed at this time of night!! Or he could just pretend that he was my brother and I was having seasure!!!"
These and other thoughts swarmed in my head for the split second before I realized that he the smallish, black object was his i-pod and he was extending his arm in my direction in order to untangle the head-phones.
Yes, comments about my morbid imagination have been made before.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Bright Side
I comendeared the 7-up from down stairs.
I have forced myself to eat toast.
I watched a whole hour of TV before being so tired I had to go back to sleep.
That's right. Flu season.
But let's look at the positive side. In the classic movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off Ferris describes his best friend Cameron as the only person he knows "who actually feels better when he is sick." Not I don't "feel better" when I'm sick. That's just weird. I'm just saying let's look at the bright side.
1. I can wear leggings all day. I can't really think of more comfortable clothes.
2. I don't have to feel guilty for all the things I'm not going to accomplish.
3. A day where you actually should stay in bed all day. It's like a random holiday.
4. I can drink 7 up... which is pretty gross so scratch that. It's not really an upside.
5. Sleeping is considered doing your duty to get ready for life to start back up. Not slothful.
6. You don't generally go spend money when you are sick.
7. No one expects you to look good.
8. I don't have to feel guilty about not working out.
9. I could, hypothetically, catch up on the e-mails I haven't written yet.
10. I'm bored now.
I have forced myself to eat toast.
I watched a whole hour of TV before being so tired I had to go back to sleep.
That's right. Flu season.
But let's look at the positive side. In the classic movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off Ferris describes his best friend Cameron as the only person he knows "who actually feels better when he is sick." Not I don't "feel better" when I'm sick. That's just weird. I'm just saying let's look at the bright side.
1. I can wear leggings all day. I can't really think of more comfortable clothes.
2. I don't have to feel guilty for all the things I'm not going to accomplish.
3. A day where you actually should stay in bed all day. It's like a random holiday.
4. I can drink 7 up... which is pretty gross so scratch that. It's not really an upside.
5. Sleeping is considered doing your duty to get ready for life to start back up. Not slothful.
6. You don't generally go spend money when you are sick.
7. No one expects you to look good.
8. I don't have to feel guilty about not working out.
9. I could, hypothetically, catch up on the e-mails I haven't written yet.
10. I'm bored now.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Television vrs. Books
People seem to justify hating on TV by their love for books. I love books. I don't feel like you can like only one. And I don't think not liking one makes you smarter. Just like what you like and don't like what you don't like and let me watch my BBC in peace.
Here are the complaints I feel people who are on the Book side of the elitist divide throw to the other side.
1. So much junk on the TV.
This is true. I had roommates addicted to Dancemoms and Toddlers in Tiaras. Child exploitation poorly disguised as entertainment. Yes there is a lot of that.
2. Time vortex.
Okay I will admitt that eight episodes of Bones later it finally dawns on me that, well, it is dawn.
But you know what. The same compaints can be applied to books.
1. Too much trash? Um, when was the last time you tried to find something to read at a bookstore. These are the books I usually find.
1. Spy Suspense, only the author has a very loose understanding of "Suspense" because the only dramatic question in this is how often can Agent X get her panties off and claim it's for her country? Oh wait. It's not suspenseful because it happens like three times every chapter.
2. Hunger Games revisited. Or Twilight revisited. Or whatever other YA novel is on the best seller list. The cover art will be similar. The characters will be similar. The plot will be similar. Basically it will be exactly like the original book except minus the X factor and originality that made the first book actually good.
Complaint #2
Time vortex.
I have stayed up until unhealthy hours reading as well as watching TV. I have been reading when I should be doing homework or housework or something else important.
I don't feel books are inherently better than TV I feel that good art is good art whatever the genre. Just like mediocrity is mediocrity no matter the genre.
Here are the complaints I feel people who are on the Book side of the elitist divide throw to the other side.
1. So much junk on the TV.
This is true. I had roommates addicted to Dancemoms and Toddlers in Tiaras. Child exploitation poorly disguised as entertainment. Yes there is a lot of that.
2. Time vortex.
Okay I will admitt that eight episodes of Bones later it finally dawns on me that, well, it is dawn.
But you know what. The same compaints can be applied to books.
1. Too much trash? Um, when was the last time you tried to find something to read at a bookstore. These are the books I usually find.
1. Spy Suspense, only the author has a very loose understanding of "Suspense" because the only dramatic question in this is how often can Agent X get her panties off and claim it's for her country? Oh wait. It's not suspenseful because it happens like three times every chapter.
2. Hunger Games revisited. Or Twilight revisited. Or whatever other YA novel is on the best seller list. The cover art will be similar. The characters will be similar. The plot will be similar. Basically it will be exactly like the original book except minus the X factor and originality that made the first book actually good.
Complaint #2
Time vortex.
I have stayed up until unhealthy hours reading as well as watching TV. I have been reading when I should be doing homework or housework or something else important.
I don't feel books are inherently better than TV I feel that good art is good art whatever the genre. Just like mediocrity is mediocrity no matter the genre.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Murder Mysteries
The weekend before last I was doing my weekly pilgrimage to Cork. I got in very late and headed for the the hostel. On the way there I was positive I was going to be killed. Think that part in Anne of Green Gables but more intense. American Paranoia you say? Not at all. Well, maybe a little. But I think my paranoia is not due to my American heritage so much as my obsession with murder mysteries.
I got to the hostel safe and sound and not even approched much less threatened by another human being. I headed to my room and I saw they had a paperback exchange.
There I found Silent Scream by Lynda La Plante. I was so excited becuase I have been wanting to read her for a while but with I haven't bought any of her work because
A. Trying to save money and
B. Adult (for adults not "adult" dummy) crime books are often so graphic that it's hard for me to justify reading them. They are just too awful. I mean I know murder is awful so I don't blame the writers. I just have found that I don't feel comfortable reading them so I have to be careful what I purchase if I'm just going to stop reading it.
But here it was free.
I am still in the early chapters but the victim is a 24 year old, blonde, actress.
I am 24. I am blonde. I was in Cork for an acting class.
But I am not a druggie or as promiscuis as the victim. Or dead.
So there really aren't that many similarities. I just thought it was funny that after my freak out I ran straight into the arms of the source of my paranoia.
I got to the hostel safe and sound and not even approched much less threatened by another human being. I headed to my room and I saw they had a paperback exchange.
There I found Silent Scream by Lynda La Plante. I was so excited becuase I have been wanting to read her for a while but with I haven't bought any of her work because
A. Trying to save money and
B. Adult (for adults not "adult" dummy) crime books are often so graphic that it's hard for me to justify reading them. They are just too awful. I mean I know murder is awful so I don't blame the writers. I just have found that I don't feel comfortable reading them so I have to be careful what I purchase if I'm just going to stop reading it.
But here it was free.
I am still in the early chapters but the victim is a 24 year old, blonde, actress.
I am 24. I am blonde. I was in Cork for an acting class.
But I am not a druggie or as promiscuis as the victim. Or dead.
So there really aren't that many similarities. I just thought it was funny that after my freak out I ran straight into the arms of the source of my paranoia.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Fridays
Now as an Au Pair Friday night generally is a word the stands in for "end of the week exhaustion that requires and 8:30 bed time-- for me, not the kids."
But this week was different.
Not that I wasn't knackered enough to pass out. That was still true. But anyway.
When I first came to Ireland it was in spring of 2010 on the Bristish Literary Tour from my college Brigham Young University Idaho. Yes I know, Ireland is not Brittish, but, we had to call it something.
That same tour was returning this month, and they were going to be in town on Friday night. I was given all this information from the professor who had also been a leader of my group.
So I was making my way to the hostel they were staying at and I saw three girls walk past me. I'm not saying they looked like tourists. They didn't really stand out, but then Galway is a pretty popular tourist haunt. Anyway, I noticed one of them was wearing a Young Women's Medalion. I called after them and asked them if they were from BYU-I. They responded the affirmative. They seemed a little freaked out but as Megan N. (when we were on our tour together she was Megan J.) pointed out, it was a little creepy of me.
I told them "I'm on my way to meet Brother Waddell. I was on this tour in 2010!"
They responce was something like "That's great! Nice to meet you!" and "So... what are you doing here?"
To which I was able to answer "I live here now." Which was a pretty fun answer. The girls did the appropriate responce of excitedly asking me for details.
We chatted and ended up going to the hostel together. At the hostel I was invited to share dinner, which was wicked nice, free taco salad is great.
Brother Waddell asked me about my life and told me about the new tour. Where they were going and what they had already done. We talked a lot about Scotland-- because that's where they were heading next. And Ireland becuase that's where we were. I told him about my branch.
Then I ended up spending the rest of the night with a handful of the girls.
We shopped. (They shopped. I'm trying to save.)
We walked-- I showed them Eyre Square.
Then they were like "Where's a pub?"
Me: "It's Ireland, there's about three in view from where we are standing."
Them: "Where's a good one?"
Me: "I haven't been to a pub since I came here in 2010. I mean yeah you have to go to a pub when you are in Ireland... but since I don't drink I haven't really gone to any sense. But we'll find one if you guys want to go."
They wanted one that played live music. So we went up and down shop street looking for one that played live music. I'm sure if we actually bothered to go into any instead of standing outside saying "I wonder if that one plays live music?" Our search might have been a little more successful.
But I found it funny as this was pretty much exactly what my friends and I did on our night when we went looking for a pub. I had thought that now that I lived here I wouldn't act like a silly tourists. I was wrong.
Anyway, eventually we found street performers playing traditional music so we just stopped and listened to that.
Then it was really time for me to go to sleep and prepare for my long weekend. One girl, the one with the medallion from the beginning, gave me a hug and said "I'm so glad I met you! I wish you were coming."
Anyway, it was fun to spend the evening with people my age and feel like an excerpt of where I live and immigrating. Which I'm not. But still nice to feel like one.
But this week was different.
Not that I wasn't knackered enough to pass out. That was still true. But anyway.
When I first came to Ireland it was in spring of 2010 on the Bristish Literary Tour from my college Brigham Young University Idaho. Yes I know, Ireland is not Brittish, but, we had to call it something.
That same tour was returning this month, and they were going to be in town on Friday night. I was given all this information from the professor who had also been a leader of my group.
So I was making my way to the hostel they were staying at and I saw three girls walk past me. I'm not saying they looked like tourists. They didn't really stand out, but then Galway is a pretty popular tourist haunt. Anyway, I noticed one of them was wearing a Young Women's Medalion. I called after them and asked them if they were from BYU-I. They responded the affirmative. They seemed a little freaked out but as Megan N. (when we were on our tour together she was Megan J.) pointed out, it was a little creepy of me.
I told them "I'm on my way to meet Brother Waddell. I was on this tour in 2010!"
They responce was something like "That's great! Nice to meet you!" and "So... what are you doing here?"
To which I was able to answer "I live here now." Which was a pretty fun answer. The girls did the appropriate responce of excitedly asking me for details.
We chatted and ended up going to the hostel together. At the hostel I was invited to share dinner, which was wicked nice, free taco salad is great.
Brother Waddell asked me about my life and told me about the new tour. Where they were going and what they had already done. We talked a lot about Scotland-- because that's where they were heading next. And Ireland becuase that's where we were. I told him about my branch.
Then I ended up spending the rest of the night with a handful of the girls.
We shopped. (They shopped. I'm trying to save.)
We walked-- I showed them Eyre Square.
Then they were like "Where's a pub?"
Me: "It's Ireland, there's about three in view from where we are standing."
Them: "Where's a good one?"
Me: "I haven't been to a pub since I came here in 2010. I mean yeah you have to go to a pub when you are in Ireland... but since I don't drink I haven't really gone to any sense. But we'll find one if you guys want to go."
They wanted one that played live music. So we went up and down shop street looking for one that played live music. I'm sure if we actually bothered to go into any instead of standing outside saying "I wonder if that one plays live music?" Our search might have been a little more successful.
But I found it funny as this was pretty much exactly what my friends and I did on our night when we went looking for a pub. I had thought that now that I lived here I wouldn't act like a silly tourists. I was wrong.
Anyway, eventually we found street performers playing traditional music so we just stopped and listened to that.
Then it was really time for me to go to sleep and prepare for my long weekend. One girl, the one with the medallion from the beginning, gave me a hug and said "I'm so glad I met you! I wish you were coming."
Anyway, it was fun to spend the evening with people my age and feel like an excerpt of where I live and immigrating. Which I'm not. But still nice to feel like one.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Currently
This currently thing is going around the internet. I haven't written a blog post in while, which I know is a huge loss to the online community. But I am feeling uninspired. So here you go.
Currently.
Loving: Ireland in general. My yoga class, though I took it to meet people and we are all too busy relaxing to do any talking. Besides I am probably the youngest one there. Hot chocolate, as always. Having plans this weekend. My course that's starting up, even though the idea simulatiously scares the be-jee-bers out of me.
Reading: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy though I don't really get it completely. I don't think I pay close enough attention. But I like it. I'm also reading The Tower, The Zoo and the Tortoise. It's a little literary for my taste so far. But I'm only at the very beginning. Also Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Need I say more?
Watching: Literally nothing. Not at this very second. But this evening I will probably either be watching Life on Mars about a police man who wakes up after an accident stranded in Manchester in the 1970s. New Tricks about a cold case squad, most of the squad are retired. Hence the title. Or, as always, Spooks. Tonight I will probably watch the one where X gets blown up trying to get a car with a car bomb in it away from civilians. Very sad. Plus the other agent takes his shirt off. So that's nice. Also I just finished Once Upon a Time, I was very pleasantly surprised. I really loved it. Oh and I just watched the newest Downton. HAHA I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thinking about: Edinburgh, it was incredible. Amsterdam, I want to visit. My course on Saturday. How I should really learn to sing. What I need to get when I run errands tonight. How I like talking to Krista. How I don't really understand grammar. Catching up with an old friend from the states on Friday. First friend from the states I'll have seen while here. All the gifts to various friends I need to post. How I need to buy stamps. How I need to write letters. Syria. How I should actually write my novel and not my blog. The Long Way Down movie. Why do I procrastinate?
Anticipating: The course on Saturday, seeing the friend Friday. Actually sitting my butt down and writing this scene. Editing some articles.
Wishing: To see London again soon. That I could talk to Shakespeare, and J.K. Rowling... same conversation of separately? That I was able to grasp the "case thing" in Russian and therefore learn to speak and understand Russian.
Making me Happy: Hot chocolate-- obviously. My travel wall. The current level of silence.That I got to pet a Westie today.
What's annoying me (I added): The cut on my finger, because I can't cut a bagel without also cutting my finger. The fact that I have completed a degree in English and still don't understand grammar. My hair.
There you go. Interesting right?
Currently.
Loving: Ireland in general. My yoga class, though I took it to meet people and we are all too busy relaxing to do any talking. Besides I am probably the youngest one there. Hot chocolate, as always. Having plans this weekend. My course that's starting up, even though the idea simulatiously scares the be-jee-bers out of me.
Reading: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy though I don't really get it completely. I don't think I pay close enough attention. But I like it. I'm also reading The Tower, The Zoo and the Tortoise. It's a little literary for my taste so far. But I'm only at the very beginning. Also Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Need I say more?
Watching: Literally nothing. Not at this very second. But this evening I will probably either be watching Life on Mars about a police man who wakes up after an accident stranded in Manchester in the 1970s. New Tricks about a cold case squad, most of the squad are retired. Hence the title. Or, as always, Spooks. Tonight I will probably watch the one where X gets blown up trying to get a car with a car bomb in it away from civilians. Very sad. Plus the other agent takes his shirt off. So that's nice. Also I just finished Once Upon a Time, I was very pleasantly surprised. I really loved it. Oh and I just watched the newest Downton. HAHA I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thinking about: Edinburgh, it was incredible. Amsterdam, I want to visit. My course on Saturday. How I should really learn to sing. What I need to get when I run errands tonight. How I like talking to Krista. How I don't really understand grammar. Catching up with an old friend from the states on Friday. First friend from the states I'll have seen while here. All the gifts to various friends I need to post. How I need to buy stamps. How I need to write letters. Syria. How I should actually write my novel and not my blog. The Long Way Down movie. Why do I procrastinate?
Anticipating: The course on Saturday, seeing the friend Friday. Actually sitting my butt down and writing this scene. Editing some articles.
Wishing: To see London again soon. That I could talk to Shakespeare, and J.K. Rowling... same conversation of separately? That I was able to grasp the "case thing" in Russian and therefore learn to speak and understand Russian.
Making me Happy: Hot chocolate-- obviously. My travel wall. The current level of silence.That I got to pet a Westie today.
What's annoying me (I added): The cut on my finger, because I can't cut a bagel without also cutting my finger. The fact that I have completed a degree in English and still don't understand grammar. My hair.
There you go. Interesting right?
Friday, September 14, 2012
Sad Songs
I love sad songs. The majority of the songs I listen to are about disappointment in some form or death. No I am not emo I just like sad music. A friend of mine recently wrote a blog about her top sad songs. This inspired me to share mine. Unlike her I am sharing a couple musical theatre.
Below are some of my top sad songs in no particular order.
1. I'm Sorry by John Denver: A song about regret and acknowledging personal weakness. The artist is very honest that this seperation is his fault. He is sorry for what he did to his partner but sorrier for the consequences than the mis-conduct.
2. Still Hurting from The Last Five Years. A woman realing with the aftermath of abadonment after a divorce.
3. Sad Song by Christina Perri. Kind of my Twenty Something go to song. A song about how nothing is really awful but nothing is really working out.
4. Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton-- Probably one of the saddest songs on earth. He wrote it after his son died. Even if you don't know the back story it is so full of grief it breaks your heart.
5. Ronan by Taylor Swift. Along the same lines.This song was written through the mothers eyes after loosing a little boy to cancer. Eric Clapton has sudden grief where as this is drawn out pain.
6. Nicest Thing by Katie Nash. A really good song about unrequited love. No matter anyone says it's a really crappy feeling.
7. John Doe Number 24 by Mary Chapin Charpenter. About a blind and deaf orphan who was abandoned and no one knows who he is. He is unable to communicate the emotions he feels and struggles with the memories he has.
8. Only a Dream by Mary Chapin Charpenter. Two sisters are very close as children in a disfunctional family. As they grow up the younger sister feels she is loosing this connection with her older sister. Then her sister finally moves out. She realizes her sister has no intention of ever returning.
9. Last Kiss by Taylor Swift. Get over it I like her. This song is a good old post break up song.
10. Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchel. To me this is a song of regret and feeling personally inadequate, its never enough and it will always end the same way.
There you go. Sad songs. I love them.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
America
So here is the thing about living abroad. You actually realize a lot about your country.
This weekend I went to some friend's house for Sunday dinner. They had been on a road trip to the states and we ended up talking about all the places they'd been. Then we ended up talking about America in general.
It was really interesting to see my country through their eyes. Why? Because they saw the country I loved. They saw America as a country that has made some serious mistakes, but that is full of promise and beauty.
Then we talked politics but not POLITICS . At one point I considered going into politics. Because I love the idea of thinking about ideals and making lives better all the time. But I feel like if my childhood ideal of politics ever existed it has long since been extinguished by the need to win every time. The idea that everyone who disagrees with you is an idiot.
Anyway it was great to remember and talk about the things I love about America even though I don't currently live there.
This weekend I went to some friend's house for Sunday dinner. They had been on a road trip to the states and we ended up talking about all the places they'd been. Then we ended up talking about America in general.
It was really interesting to see my country through their eyes. Why? Because they saw the country I loved. They saw America as a country that has made some serious mistakes, but that is full of promise and beauty.
Then we talked politics but not POLITICS . At one point I considered going into politics. Because I love the idea of thinking about ideals and making lives better all the time. But I feel like if my childhood ideal of politics ever existed it has long since been extinguished by the need to win every time. The idea that everyone who disagrees with you is an idiot.
Anyway it was great to remember and talk about the things I love about America even though I don't currently live there.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Random Day Off
My "family" was going to the zoo.
Now I love the zoo.
I love my family. I was seriously tempted by the idea of seeing these kids see tigers ect.
But the idea of a spontanious three-day weekend was seriously something I wanted.
So I was torn.
But a migraine the Sunday night made my mind up for me.
So I was looking forward to this spontaneous day off. I had a long list of things to get done. Some of which I accomplished. I am working on the achieveable part of the goal setting thing.
It was a couple days after a birthday of one of my best friends. I'd told her I'd get her a Claddagh ring. (Friend, if you are reading this I promise I will send it soon.)
So I went to the bus stop to wait for the bus.
And wait.
And wait.
I even started looking in the local shops for the ring. But I didn't see any I liked.
It became very evident the bus had no intention of arriving on time. Or at all.
I wanted to go back home and you know, read, write, watch BBC and all the other introvert things I love.
But summer was ending and I wanted to finish strong and go to Galway. Who knew when the next miandering shopping day would come my way?
So I sat down to read my Nook on the bench.
My Nook was out of batteries.
Oh well. I could listen to my i-pod.
I was thus occupied when a guy walked by, stopped and walked back up to me.
"Do I know you?" He asked.
I took out my earbuds because that's polite. "No. Sorry." I said. This guy was in his late thirties/early forties. I didn't know him. Besides, guys occasionally use that "do I know you" thing as a pick up line. I find it's just best to not play along at all if you are not interested. I was not interested. So I began to make a show of putting my ear buds back in.
"No, I'm sure I know you. Where do I know you from?" It was becoming very eveident that this man was drunk. Hammered. Sloshed. Pickled. It was about 1:30 in the afternoon, so that's pretty impressive even by Irish standards.
"No. I'm not from around here." I answered.
"Neither am I." He sat down on the bench next to me. "Where are you from."
"The U.S." I answered.
"Really!!!" He was shocked.
Now I have a pretty thick American accent. My vowels sound like they have been ironed with starch. It shouldn't come as a shock that I'm American. But then maybe it's not as thick as it sounds to me because people are always shocked when I tell them I'm from the states. They usually guess Holland or the UK.
"Really." I answered.
"You're not the woman I'm thinking of. I'm thinking of a different woman." You don't say sir? "You're really from the states!!! An American Girl!"
He started cracking up at this point. So overcome was he by the hilarity of the astonishing fact that I was American that he actually started to lay down on the bench. Maybe I should pretend to get a phone call.
"What's your name?" He asked when he could speak again.
"Madison" I answered. Kicking myself for not lying. I'm usually pretty good at coming up with quick lies.
"Oh, Madison, it's great to meet you." He stood and shook my hand. "That's a lovely American name and you're a lovely American girl."
"Thank you." I answered.
"Well, nice to meet you." He smiled.
"You too." I smiled diplomatically.
"Just so you know," he leaned in, great. "I am not chatting you up in anyway."
"Oh, hahaha I know." Yeah okay but you are still to close.
"I have a lovely wife and two beautiful kids at home."
"Oh. That's so good." How am I supposed to answer that?
"I am an honest person." He said with viamence.
"Yes. Okay." My diplomatic skills were wearing thin. But it was okay because he walked off.
I figured besides the giving him my real name I had handled the whole thing pretty well. When I got to town I got myself a hot chocolate.
Now I love the zoo.
I love my family. I was seriously tempted by the idea of seeing these kids see tigers ect.
But the idea of a spontanious three-day weekend was seriously something I wanted.
So I was torn.
But a migraine the Sunday night made my mind up for me.
So I was looking forward to this spontaneous day off. I had a long list of things to get done. Some of which I accomplished. I am working on the achieveable part of the goal setting thing.
It was a couple days after a birthday of one of my best friends. I'd told her I'd get her a Claddagh ring. (Friend, if you are reading this I promise I will send it soon.)
So I went to the bus stop to wait for the bus.
And wait.
And wait.
I even started looking in the local shops for the ring. But I didn't see any I liked.
It became very evident the bus had no intention of arriving on time. Or at all.
I wanted to go back home and you know, read, write, watch BBC and all the other introvert things I love.
But summer was ending and I wanted to finish strong and go to Galway. Who knew when the next miandering shopping day would come my way?
So I sat down to read my Nook on the bench.
My Nook was out of batteries.
Oh well. I could listen to my i-pod.
I was thus occupied when a guy walked by, stopped and walked back up to me.
"Do I know you?" He asked.
I took out my earbuds because that's polite. "No. Sorry." I said. This guy was in his late thirties/early forties. I didn't know him. Besides, guys occasionally use that "do I know you" thing as a pick up line. I find it's just best to not play along at all if you are not interested. I was not interested. So I began to make a show of putting my ear buds back in.
"No, I'm sure I know you. Where do I know you from?" It was becoming very eveident that this man was drunk. Hammered. Sloshed. Pickled. It was about 1:30 in the afternoon, so that's pretty impressive even by Irish standards.
"No. I'm not from around here." I answered.
"Neither am I." He sat down on the bench next to me. "Where are you from."
"The U.S." I answered.
"Really!!!" He was shocked.
Now I have a pretty thick American accent. My vowels sound like they have been ironed with starch. It shouldn't come as a shock that I'm American. But then maybe it's not as thick as it sounds to me because people are always shocked when I tell them I'm from the states. They usually guess Holland or the UK.
"Really." I answered.
"You're not the woman I'm thinking of. I'm thinking of a different woman." You don't say sir? "You're really from the states!!! An American Girl!"
He started cracking up at this point. So overcome was he by the hilarity of the astonishing fact that I was American that he actually started to lay down on the bench. Maybe I should pretend to get a phone call.
"What's your name?" He asked when he could speak again.
"Madison" I answered. Kicking myself for not lying. I'm usually pretty good at coming up with quick lies.
"Oh, Madison, it's great to meet you." He stood and shook my hand. "That's a lovely American name and you're a lovely American girl."
"Thank you." I answered.
"Well, nice to meet you." He smiled.
"You too." I smiled diplomatically.
"Just so you know," he leaned in, great. "I am not chatting you up in anyway."
"Oh, hahaha I know." Yeah okay but you are still to close.
"I have a lovely wife and two beautiful kids at home."
"Oh. That's so good." How am I supposed to answer that?
"I am an honest person." He said with viamence.
"Yes. Okay." My diplomatic skills were wearing thin. But it was okay because he walked off.
I figured besides the giving him my real name I had handled the whole thing pretty well. When I got to town I got myself a hot chocolate.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Birthday
It was my first birthday not-in-th-United Sates this year. That was cool.
Summary.
Woke up to the sound of toodlers announcing to the world they were ready for the day to begin. But as it was my day off I got to lie in bed and listen to this rather than get up and quickly get dressed. When I did decide to get up and get dressed I actually put effort into the way I looked. Make up. Did my own hair. Actually wore a flattering outfit. A lot of girls like to advertize what they feel is their personal style and come up with cutting edge names for said choices. Like "sleek and sexy" or "atheltic with a flirty twist". I feel the only phrase that acuretly describes my style is "cleans up nice." Seriously I am so attractive when I actually put time into my appearence.
Then when I got breakfast my "Family" gave me fifty euros on top of the day off. Pretty good right?!
So I went to town and ate mexican food. Well, Irish mexican. But still, one of my favorite things.
Then I went shopping. I found a professional jacket I wanted. Problem. It was 40 euros. Now with my birthday money it was perfect.
But I have a hard time parting with that much money at once.
Even though I need more professional clothes.
So I spent the next few hours window shopping elsewhere and deciding if I still wanted that jacket. Which I did. So I finally bought it. And I don't regret it. I just have a hard time paying a lot for clothes. Even though I love them. Even when I realize it's not an unreasonable price. I just still want to cling to money with my life strength.
Then I got my eye-brows threaded at The Body Shop. Ouch. And they wouldn't let me use my rewards card towards it. Meanies. But whatever.
Then I walked around a bit more and bought Slam, a book by one of my favorite authors Nick Hornby.
Then it was about time to head home. I went back. My family made me chili for dinner and an amazing chocolate cake with butter cream icing. Very nice. So nice I even let the babies sing to me. Something that has been against my policy since I was six. Then I got to skype with my mom for hours. Then I watched a favorite tv show. Which, yes, I do have memorized.
All in all a really good birthday. I mean I accomplished a lot since the last one and most of it has been stuff I wanted to do, graduate from college, get employed as an Au-Pair, get employed as a part time travel writer, move to Ireland are some of the high-lights.
There you go, my life to this point.
Summary.
Woke up to the sound of toodlers announcing to the world they were ready for the day to begin. But as it was my day off I got to lie in bed and listen to this rather than get up and quickly get dressed. When I did decide to get up and get dressed I actually put effort into the way I looked. Make up. Did my own hair. Actually wore a flattering outfit. A lot of girls like to advertize what they feel is their personal style and come up with cutting edge names for said choices. Like "sleek and sexy" or "atheltic with a flirty twist". I feel the only phrase that acuretly describes my style is "cleans up nice." Seriously I am so attractive when I actually put time into my appearence.
Then when I got breakfast my "Family" gave me fifty euros on top of the day off. Pretty good right?!
So I went to town and ate mexican food. Well, Irish mexican. But still, one of my favorite things.
Then I went shopping. I found a professional jacket I wanted. Problem. It was 40 euros. Now with my birthday money it was perfect.
But I have a hard time parting with that much money at once.
Even though I need more professional clothes.
So I spent the next few hours window shopping elsewhere and deciding if I still wanted that jacket. Which I did. So I finally bought it. And I don't regret it. I just have a hard time paying a lot for clothes. Even though I love them. Even when I realize it's not an unreasonable price. I just still want to cling to money with my life strength.
Then I got my eye-brows threaded at The Body Shop. Ouch. And they wouldn't let me use my rewards card towards it. Meanies. But whatever.
Then I walked around a bit more and bought Slam, a book by one of my favorite authors Nick Hornby.
Then it was about time to head home. I went back. My family made me chili for dinner and an amazing chocolate cake with butter cream icing. Very nice. So nice I even let the babies sing to me. Something that has been against my policy since I was six. Then I got to skype with my mom for hours. Then I watched a favorite tv show. Which, yes, I do have memorized.
All in all a really good birthday. I mean I accomplished a lot since the last one and most of it has been stuff I wanted to do, graduate from college, get employed as an Au-Pair, get employed as a part time travel writer, move to Ireland are some of the high-lights.
There you go, my life to this point.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
wish-list
My mom requested a wish list. Since this is also my way of journal writing I am posting it here. Feel free to read or skip.
1. Money. I like money. But don't get my money because with the exchange rate and stuff it would be complicated . But I can't just not include it on my wishlist. Maybe the universe is listening.
2. Hot British boyfriend. Again, maybe the universe is listening.
3. To speak French or Russian. This is becoming a bucket list.
4. http://www.modcloth.com/shop/kitchen-decor/trunks-full-of-taste-shaker-set aren't they cute!!!!
Okay now to the real stuff. (Ignore that Universe, it's all real)
6. Something tells me this necklace and I would have adventures together. But basically I like jewelry.
http://www.etsy.com/listing/84901512/fairy-tale-world-cinderellas-pumpkin?ref=usr_faveitems&atr_uid=11984476
7. Barnes and Nobel gift card. I think my nook is getting tired of my uploading free classics. I'm certainly getting tired of reading them. Megan would say I don't deserve my major.
8. http://www.amazon.com/Pop-Culture-Graphics-Poster-11x17/dp/B002S6S826/ref=wl_it_dp_o_pdT1_nS_nC?ie=UTF8&colid=1JBMC2NWFHDF9&coliid=I2D5WDYD2OHPBE Spooks poster
Not my favorite graphic (or my least for that matter) but the only one I can find.
9. Spooks series nine region 2. I want region 2. Which may cause some difficulties... sorry. Possibly my favorite series in the series. Fall of the human spirit, despair, death, heart break, internal conflict, physiological twists, black mail, kidnap, death, love and hope. "Some of the worst things are done in the name of love. I understand that now."![Spooks - Series 10 [DVD]](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51X%2BZZ4FyoL._SL500_AA300_.jpg)
10. Spooks series 10. The region 2 again. Better cover for one thing. "Wait, Harry, no. This can't be the end." "We'll just smile, and pretend it isn't."
You can get both from amazon.uk.
I know there is a lot of Spooks stuff. But in my defense I have bought most the other stuff I want for myself. "I can't help it if I know what I like. And I know that I like [Spooks]".
Headaches
Everyone gets headaches.
Some people get extreme ones know as migraines. These manifest themselves in ways like feeling like you can't move your neck, lest your head fall off. Feeling like your head is somehow connected to your stomach and you are going to loose whatever last meal you had due to the pain in your head.
Feeling like all the muscels in your skull have been tied in knots.
It's not pleasant.
I do get the less occasional than I would wish migraine.
The-mom-that-I-live-with said it might be due to whatever food I eat the most.
Ok here is the really sad part. The only food I could think that I had with every mean was chocolate.
No relax it's not like I eat a slice of chocolate cake for lunch. Though if I did that's still my business. No, I just consume a lot of hot chocolate. A lot. Not with EVERY meal. Usually one in the morning. One at lunch. Three or so in the afternoon.
I don't have one with dinner, so it's not like i have it with every meal.
But the-mom-I-live-with thinks that chocolate might be the culprit behind my pain. She herself suffers from RIDICULOUS migraines and tries to avoid chocolate.
At first I was like "No way! I cannot give up chocolate!!!!!!!" Then I was like "Hold on, why not ease into it like when I gave up meat?"
What did this teach me?
That if that was me on a limited intake of chocolate I eat way too much.
So even if it's not the cause of my head feeling like it's full of little men mining in my brain I do comsume too much to be considered healthy.
So this week I had like 3 cups of hot chocolate. That is pretty impressive for me furthermore I have nutella once this week.
Again I'm not cutting it out of my life. I am not one of those girls who likes to show off how far she can go without eating. I just want to talk about a milestone in my life.
Some people get extreme ones know as migraines. These manifest themselves in ways like feeling like you can't move your neck, lest your head fall off. Feeling like your head is somehow connected to your stomach and you are going to loose whatever last meal you had due to the pain in your head.
Feeling like all the muscels in your skull have been tied in knots.
It's not pleasant.
I do get the less occasional than I would wish migraine.
The-mom-that-I-live-with said it might be due to whatever food I eat the most.
Ok here is the really sad part. The only food I could think that I had with every mean was chocolate.
No relax it's not like I eat a slice of chocolate cake for lunch. Though if I did that's still my business. No, I just consume a lot of hot chocolate. A lot. Not with EVERY meal. Usually one in the morning. One at lunch. Three or so in the afternoon.
I don't have one with dinner, so it's not like i have it with every meal.
But the-mom-I-live-with thinks that chocolate might be the culprit behind my pain. She herself suffers from RIDICULOUS migraines and tries to avoid chocolate.
At first I was like "No way! I cannot give up chocolate!!!!!!!" Then I was like "Hold on, why not ease into it like when I gave up meat?"
What did this teach me?
That if that was me on a limited intake of chocolate I eat way too much.
So even if it's not the cause of my head feeling like it's full of little men mining in my brain I do comsume too much to be considered healthy.
So this week I had like 3 cups of hot chocolate. That is pretty impressive for me furthermore I have nutella once this week.
Again I'm not cutting it out of my life. I am not one of those girls who likes to show off how far she can go without eating. I just want to talk about a milestone in my life.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Belfast
After I spent my weekend with my family in Wexford the mom said she wasn't trying to get rid of me but as I had been with them for the bank holiday weekend would I like to have a few days off?
So I went to Belfast.
I didn't have my camera. So you'll have to do with some internet caps. and my plain old comentary.
Murals like the above, are everywhere.
Basically the city was torn to pieces by "The Troubles". Which is the code name for the IRA. There is one street which is still locked every night. In the surrounding streets there are all new buildings because when things first exploded basically everything was literally burned to the ground. People burned each others houses and burned their own houses rather than letting the other side get there first. The buildings that weren't burned still have bullet holes in the brick you can see. There was an army base around the corner, but the only way for the soldiers to get in or out without getting attacked was helicopter from the roof. During this time people had to be searched before going into or leaving the city center. No cars in the city center without express permission.
The Loyalist street still has a British Flag in every window and the Republics do the same on the opposite side the the Republic of Ireland's flag. There are still pictures on buildings of all the people on both sides who were assassinated, some as recently as the 90s. It was just so surprising that all this happened so recently and I didn't really know anything about it. The tour guide assured us that it was only extremest on both sides causing hell for everyone else and that all that is behind us now and things are heading in the right direction. And the Peace Walk in between both areas was erected by civilians on both sides who wanted a safe ground between them.
Anyway, I'm just surprised I didn't know anything about it.
I just think its a sad story. But a beautiful city and hopefully the progress will continue.
So I went to Belfast.
I didn't have my camera. So you'll have to do with some internet caps. and my plain old comentary.
Murals like the above, are everywhere.
Basically the city was torn to pieces by "The Troubles". Which is the code name for the IRA. There is one street which is still locked every night. In the surrounding streets there are all new buildings because when things first exploded basically everything was literally burned to the ground. People burned each others houses and burned their own houses rather than letting the other side get there first. The buildings that weren't burned still have bullet holes in the brick you can see. There was an army base around the corner, but the only way for the soldiers to get in or out without getting attacked was helicopter from the roof. During this time people had to be searched before going into or leaving the city center. No cars in the city center without express permission.
The Loyalist street still has a British Flag in every window and the Republics do the same on the opposite side the the Republic of Ireland's flag. There are still pictures on buildings of all the people on both sides who were assassinated, some as recently as the 90s. It was just so surprising that all this happened so recently and I didn't really know anything about it. The tour guide assured us that it was only extremest on both sides causing hell for everyone else and that all that is behind us now and things are heading in the right direction. And the Peace Walk in between both areas was erected by civilians on both sides who wanted a safe ground between them.
Anyway, I'm just surprised I didn't know anything about it.
I just think its a sad story. But a beautiful city and hopefully the progress will continue.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
back again
I haven't written in forever.
But let's face it. It's not exactly a catastrophe for the universe if I don't update my blog.
Anyway this week was crazy.
I went so many places. And didn't bring my camera. So no pictures
On the plus side as it is I am rediculously sore from hauling my back-pack and purse everywhere. My camera is awesome, but that little extra weight would probably have killed me.
Anyway, brief summary of majority of last week.
I went with my family (my family that I live with and work for, not the one I was born into) to Wexford. We went to the ruins of a castle that used to be the seat of power, the castle of the high king of Ireland. Also a place to hide with your lover if the forces of the enemy were chasing you.
I thought it was great, the little boy I mind thought it was a bit of a let down as there were no dragons.
Then we went to their Grandparents' house. Were their nice Grandma told me probably 8 times "You're very welcome Madison." She was wicked sweet and made us stay for dinner. I also met the kid's uncle, grandfather and Kipper. Kipper is a small terrier and pretty much the star of the show if you are a toddler, so I have heard a lot about him.
After dinner their uncle asked me how I liked Ireland and if I thought I might live there when I "grew up".
I answered "Yes, here or in England. I'm not sure yet." Then I caught my host mom's look of death. "She might kill me if I choose England though."
The mom who I work for-- I will have to come up with a name for her because typing out that title is pretty long and I don't like to use her real name for pricacy sake--Anyway.
Her annsestor blew up a bridge during the 1798 (I think) rebelion. From what I understand the English decided the best way to deal with the Irish was to hire a bunch of convicts and thugs to go and basically ransack with their permission. So my friend's grandfather and a few of his friends blew up the bridge the creeps were using to get into town.
They were sent to prison, and their families on the farm without them had a very rough time. But they saved the town.
So you can understand that she's for Ireland.
The rest off the evening-- and pretty much the rest of the weekend-- consisted of her pointing out various land marks associated with various Irish rebellions and details on the British cruelty towards the Emerald Isle. But she did admit that she does find parts of England beautiful.
But let's face it. It's not exactly a catastrophe for the universe if I don't update my blog.
Anyway this week was crazy.
I went so many places. And didn't bring my camera. So no pictures
On the plus side as it is I am rediculously sore from hauling my back-pack and purse everywhere. My camera is awesome, but that little extra weight would probably have killed me.
Anyway, brief summary of majority of last week.
I went with my family (my family that I live with and work for, not the one I was born into) to Wexford. We went to the ruins of a castle that used to be the seat of power, the castle of the high king of Ireland. Also a place to hide with your lover if the forces of the enemy were chasing you.
I thought it was great, the little boy I mind thought it was a bit of a let down as there were no dragons.
Then we went to their Grandparents' house. Were their nice Grandma told me probably 8 times "You're very welcome Madison." She was wicked sweet and made us stay for dinner. I also met the kid's uncle, grandfather and Kipper. Kipper is a small terrier and pretty much the star of the show if you are a toddler, so I have heard a lot about him.
After dinner their uncle asked me how I liked Ireland and if I thought I might live there when I "grew up".
I answered "Yes, here or in England. I'm not sure yet." Then I caught my host mom's look of death. "She might kill me if I choose England though."
The mom who I work for-- I will have to come up with a name for her because typing out that title is pretty long and I don't like to use her real name for pricacy sake--Anyway.
Her annsestor blew up a bridge during the 1798 (I think) rebelion. From what I understand the English decided the best way to deal with the Irish was to hire a bunch of convicts and thugs to go and basically ransack with their permission. So my friend's grandfather and a few of his friends blew up the bridge the creeps were using to get into town.
They were sent to prison, and their families on the farm without them had a very rough time. But they saved the town.
So you can understand that she's for Ireland.
The rest off the evening-- and pretty much the rest of the weekend-- consisted of her pointing out various land marks associated with various Irish rebellions and details on the British cruelty towards the Emerald Isle. But she did admit that she does find parts of England beautiful.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Scotland
"Land of the free, home of the brave."
"Scotland!"
In light of fact that today is Harry Potter's birthday I would like to post about a very personal experience.
Last week I went to The Elephant House. The coffee shop where J.K. Rowling did most of her writing of Harry Potter. You know, in the beginning, when she was a poor, single mother and hanging out in coffee shops.
Especially this coffee shop. That painting above the sign is a painting of her writing.
Now I would like this place even if it wasn't culturally and personally significant. You can get a full breakfast for like six pounds. Which means you basically just bought your entire day's worth of food for about six pounds. Then their hot chocolate is really good. Chocolate cream on top of hot chocolate.
Then it is open, there is plenty of seating for parties or solos. There are jungle like plants everywhere. And elephants. Everywhere. A book case of elephant books. A shelf of Elephant figurines. It was just great.
I had my notebook, my new copy of Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone (Yes, the British version) an hot chocolate. It doesn't get much better than that.
Then, while I was reading about Diagon Alley a group of American tourists took a picture of me. I'm hoping I reminded them of their granddaughters or something. Otherwise the idea of an old guy candidly snapping pictures of me is just a little odd.
Did I say it didn't get better?
I went into the girls bathroom and this is what I found.
Almost every surface is covered with notes from others who have made this pilgrimage. Plenty of references to the book "Weasley is our King." "The Chamber has been opened." Ect.
But there were a great deal to Rowling herself. I remember one girl had written a really long paragraph thanking Mrs. Rowling for making Hermione a strong female character. Complete with textual evidence. (I'm not saying it's hard to find textual evidence as to why Hermione is a strong character, I'm just impressed this girl cited it. Literary power!)
Some are down right touching "Mrs. Rowling, I think of you as a second mom."
It was like my generations' Juliet's Wall. I seriously got choked up.
Well, I'm sorry but I think I have to wrap this up. I have to read some Harry Potter.
"Scotland!"
In light of fact that today is Harry Potter's birthday I would like to post about a very personal experience.
Especially this coffee shop. That painting above the sign is a painting of her writing.
Now I would like this place even if it wasn't culturally and personally significant. You can get a full breakfast for like six pounds. Which means you basically just bought your entire day's worth of food for about six pounds. Then their hot chocolate is really good. Chocolate cream on top of hot chocolate.
Then it is open, there is plenty of seating for parties or solos. There are jungle like plants everywhere. And elephants. Everywhere. A book case of elephant books. A shelf of Elephant figurines. It was just great.
I had my notebook, my new copy of Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone (Yes, the British version) an hot chocolate. It doesn't get much better than that.Then, while I was reading about Diagon Alley a group of American tourists took a picture of me. I'm hoping I reminded them of their granddaughters or something. Otherwise the idea of an old guy candidly snapping pictures of me is just a little odd.
Did I say it didn't get better?
I went into the girls bathroom and this is what I found.
Almost every surface is covered with notes from others who have made this pilgrimage. Plenty of references to the book "Weasley is our King." "The Chamber has been opened." Ect.
But there were a great deal to Rowling herself. I remember one girl had written a really long paragraph thanking Mrs. Rowling for making Hermione a strong female character. Complete with textual evidence. (I'm not saying it's hard to find textual evidence as to why Hermione is a strong character, I'm just impressed this girl cited it. Literary power!)
Some are down right touching "Mrs. Rowling, I think of you as a second mom."
It was like my generations' Juliet's Wall. I seriously got choked up.
Well, I'm sorry but I think I have to wrap this up. I have to read some Harry Potter.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
The other night I was getting ready for my big trip. Due to circumstances beyond my control I set out on my travels way later than I planned.
But I did manage to get a seat at the very front of the bus so I had a great view. Of course the driver also kept talking to me in broken English. "Where you from?" "What time you fly?"
I managed to get to Dublin around 11 pm. It was very dark and there were plenty of drunk people around.
Before you knock on the Irish for being drunks, these were drunk tourists, mostly young tourist doing the "Finding Myself in Europe" thing. Which is completely different from what I am doing thank you very much. Then there was a group of high schoolers in prom-like outfits totally smashed and screaming at each other. Not in a mean way. Just in a "carrying out a conversation at different sides of the street" way.
So I left the bus and tried to follow my map-quest directions for my hostel.
Ok that's one time around the square, can't find Bachelor's St.
The over friendly Bus Driver saw me circling the station and was like "Where you going? You stay in city? Hey, where you going?"
I am sure he was just trying to be helpful, that I reminded him of his daughter and he wouldn't want her lost in Dublin at night.
But it still freaked me out. I watch too many murder mysteries. I have been told before.
Then I realized: if I couldn't find Bachelors St. I was not going to have much luck with the next 58 steps until the hostel.
Finding a hostel I have never been to before in a city I have only been to a handful of times in the daylight is not too big a deal.
At night Dublin can be a bit scary. At least if you don't know it very well and you are on your own. And the way I follow directions involves getting lost and back tracking a lot.
Not something I wanted to do in Dublin at night. Lost foreign girl with nose in directions at almost midnight?
Yeah, great idea.
So Plan:
1. Find hostel -- Out I wouldn't be able to do it.
2. Local hostel/hotel-- all co-ed dorms or 99 euros a night. OUT
3. Get a cab to take me to the hostel. Yeah I've seen that movie. And expensive. Out.
4. Get a bus to the air port and sleep there. -- Well do you have any better ideas?
So I slept in the Dublin Airport and got to Edinburgh safely. I know it sounds like I was an idiot. But I was alone, in a strange city and freaked out. I like to think I managed the situation pretty well.
But I did manage to get a seat at the very front of the bus so I had a great view. Of course the driver also kept talking to me in broken English. "Where you from?" "What time you fly?"
I managed to get to Dublin around 11 pm. It was very dark and there were plenty of drunk people around.
Before you knock on the Irish for being drunks, these were drunk tourists, mostly young tourist doing the "Finding Myself in Europe" thing. Which is completely different from what I am doing thank you very much. Then there was a group of high schoolers in prom-like outfits totally smashed and screaming at each other. Not in a mean way. Just in a "carrying out a conversation at different sides of the street" way.
So I left the bus and tried to follow my map-quest directions for my hostel.
Ok that's one time around the square, can't find Bachelor's St.
The over friendly Bus Driver saw me circling the station and was like "Where you going? You stay in city? Hey, where you going?"
I am sure he was just trying to be helpful, that I reminded him of his daughter and he wouldn't want her lost in Dublin at night.
But it still freaked me out. I watch too many murder mysteries. I have been told before.
Then I realized: if I couldn't find Bachelors St. I was not going to have much luck with the next 58 steps until the hostel.
Finding a hostel I have never been to before in a city I have only been to a handful of times in the daylight is not too big a deal.
At night Dublin can be a bit scary. At least if you don't know it very well and you are on your own. And the way I follow directions involves getting lost and back tracking a lot.
Not something I wanted to do in Dublin at night. Lost foreign girl with nose in directions at almost midnight?
Yeah, great idea.
So Plan:
1. Find hostel -- Out I wouldn't be able to do it.
2. Local hostel/hotel-- all co-ed dorms or 99 euros a night. OUT
3. Get a cab to take me to the hostel. Yeah I've seen that movie. And expensive. Out.
4. Get a bus to the air port and sleep there. -- Well do you have any better ideas?
So I slept in the Dublin Airport and got to Edinburgh safely. I know it sounds like I was an idiot. But I was alone, in a strange city and freaked out. I like to think I managed the situation pretty well.
Friday, July 20, 2012
To Ginny
The only really hard adjustment about living in a foreign country is all the people you leave behind. For instance today I really miss my mom. I'd include a picture of my mom here but she hates pictures of herself.
I think the "I WANT MY MOM" phase that today has been started when I decided the best way not to forget the only necklace I was bringing to on my trip was to not take it off. As in sleep in it.
I have never slept in a necklace before. Why?
Because when I was a toddler my mom told me if I wore a necklace to sleep it would strangle me.
And my parents wonder why I think about death so much.
Anyway, a couple years ago my sister said she never took a certain necklace off. I was like "Oh my gosh it could choke you! You can't sleep in necklaces!"
Needless to say my sister looked at me like I was an idiot. She gives me this look a lot. In fact it would probably be more of an event if my sister was looking at me like I wasn't an idiot.
"Mom told me you can't sleep in necklaces or they strangle you in your sleep!" I insisted. My sister smirked.
"Madi, I probably told you that when you still wore huge, long toddler necklaces." My mom broke in. "The necklaces you and Sarah wear now are not going to choke you."
Shouldn't there be an expiration date on these Semi-lies they tell us so we don't believe them forever!
Like when I was old enough to say not wear necklaces like this:
And to start wearing necklaces like this:
My mom could have mentioned that simple silver chains probably wouldn't bring about my demise.
Yes, I realize if I thought about it I should have figured it out. But I was at the stage when I thought my mom knew all the details of the universe.
Some other things I owe to my mom
1. I love a few John Denver songs because after he died my mom bought the whole collection and listened non-stop for about year until she realized she never really liked him. But now I think of his songs as the melodies of my child hood.
2. I can probably read because of her because she home-schooled me which made my learning disability not the issue it would have been had I not had one on one attention.
3.She bought me my first book on jewelry making when I was like 13 and I still love it.
4. She introduced me to Spooks. She probably regrets this.
5. She is usually the only person who can tell when I'm upset.
6. I can't watch Mamma Mia unless I am with her because it makes me cry if she is not right there with me.
7. She doesn't care that I return/exchange the gifts she gets me.
There you go, some of the details which make up our unorthodox but wouldn't go right to dysfunctional relationship.
Now I am going to sleep in my necklace. If I am found tomorrow, dead from being strangled by a silver chain that got tangled while I was sleeping let it be known that my mom said that wouldn't happen.
I think the "I WANT MY MOM" phase that today has been started when I decided the best way not to forget the only necklace I was bringing to on my trip was to not take it off. As in sleep in it.
I have never slept in a necklace before. Why?
Because when I was a toddler my mom told me if I wore a necklace to sleep it would strangle me.
And my parents wonder why I think about death so much.
Anyway, a couple years ago my sister said she never took a certain necklace off. I was like "Oh my gosh it could choke you! You can't sleep in necklaces!"
Needless to say my sister looked at me like I was an idiot. She gives me this look a lot. In fact it would probably be more of an event if my sister was looking at me like I wasn't an idiot.
"Mom told me you can't sleep in necklaces or they strangle you in your sleep!" I insisted. My sister smirked.
"Madi, I probably told you that when you still wore huge, long toddler necklaces." My mom broke in. "The necklaces you and Sarah wear now are not going to choke you."
Shouldn't there be an expiration date on these Semi-lies they tell us so we don't believe them forever!
Like when I was old enough to say not wear necklaces like this:And to start wearing necklaces like this:
My mom could have mentioned that simple silver chains probably wouldn't bring about my demise.
Yes, I realize if I thought about it I should have figured it out. But I was at the stage when I thought my mom knew all the details of the universe.
Some other things I owe to my mom
1. I love a few John Denver songs because after he died my mom bought the whole collection and listened non-stop for about year until she realized she never really liked him. But now I think of his songs as the melodies of my child hood.
2. I can probably read because of her because she home-schooled me which made my learning disability not the issue it would have been had I not had one on one attention.
3.She bought me my first book on jewelry making when I was like 13 and I still love it.
4. She introduced me to Spooks. She probably regrets this.
5. She is usually the only person who can tell when I'm upset.
6. I can't watch Mamma Mia unless I am with her because it makes me cry if she is not right there with me.
7. She doesn't care that I return/exchange the gifts she gets me.
There you go, some of the details which make up our unorthodox but wouldn't go right to dysfunctional relationship.
Now I am going to sleep in my necklace. If I am found tomorrow, dead from being strangled by a silver chain that got tangled while I was sleeping let it be known that my mom said that wouldn't happen.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
confusion and castles
I love my bed. I think its an introvert thing. This morning I did not want to get out of my bed. This is pretty common for me but I usually can talk myself into it eventually. But this morning I was like "Plan for the day, feed the pets. Go back to bed, sleep, if you feel really ambitious you can watch Netflix."
So I lay there in bliss until about 9:30 when I felt guilty and decided I needed to do something. Exploring sounded good. I have been focusing on making decisions lately. I have noticed I have a tendency to avoid decisions.
So I was like "Today I decide to go to Cork."
I proceeded to get ready and I went.
What proceeded was an incredibly long bus ride. I don't mind this because you can stare out the window and see the Irish country side, I can read on my Nook, I can write in my note book or I can sleep-- though considering how much of that I did today I probably should have just stayed in bed. It would have been cheaper.
In any case we finally got to Limerick, the last stop before Cork.I was looking out the window thinking "Maybe I should just stay here. Due to the lateness of my start I will have very little time in Cork before I have to turn around and come back. Limerick looks like a nice alternative, I could actually have time to enjoy it." Yes, I was thinking in classical English because I'd been reading the Scarlet Pimpernel on the way over.
Then my realistic side was like "You paid -- a lot-- to go to Cork. Go to freaking Cork. Do Limerick on a day when you paid a fair to go to Limerick."
Once we parked at the station everyone got off the bus but me. The bus driver came up to me and said I might as well get out and get some fresh air because we would not be leaving for 25 mins.
So I went inside, went to the toilet, bought some food and came back out. Well, apparently I'd misheard him on the time because the bus was gone.
So, spontanious amandonment of plans and staying in Limerick was on.
Here is cool clock I found there.
Here is my attempt at being artistic with the cool clock.
Go figure that after consulting the tourist map I decided the one thing I wanted to see was on the other side of town and I had little time. But, I made it and I didn't get lost. Enjoy the pictures of King John's Castle.
Views of Limerick from the castle walls.
Then I went back to the bus station. Found my bus stop and waited. And waited. And waited.
Well, the ride down here had been pretty long and I needed to be back in Galway in time to get the last bus to Loughrea. It was already like a half an hour past when the bus was supposed to have left by the sign.
So I went inside and asked to buy a train ticket to Galway. I haven't taken the train yet because they are way more expensive. But I had a diabetic dog to get home and feed. So I asked to purchase a train ticket. The woman said the next train didn't leave until 6:05, it was 4:30 at the time so I was in better luck waiting for a the bus just in case, I could always purchase the ticket later.
I saw the logic in her statement and went and sat out under Bus Stop 3 again.
While I was wondering which of the buses milling around would pull in and take me home a nice guard came up and asked if I was alright.
Well, I was stranded, and I was wearing my red leather jacket with my peach purse which in retrospect was a mistake this morning. But I assured him I was ok.
"Where are you going?" He pressed. I explained I was going to Galway, after all I was under the Cork, Limerick, Shannon, Galway pavilion. He smiled and pointed to spot number 2. "That is the Galway express."
So, maybe I did need his help.
In any case I got home and fed my diabetic dog.
So I lay there in bliss until about 9:30 when I felt guilty and decided I needed to do something. Exploring sounded good. I have been focusing on making decisions lately. I have noticed I have a tendency to avoid decisions.
So I was like "Today I decide to go to Cork."
I proceeded to get ready and I went.
What proceeded was an incredibly long bus ride. I don't mind this because you can stare out the window and see the Irish country side, I can read on my Nook, I can write in my note book or I can sleep-- though considering how much of that I did today I probably should have just stayed in bed. It would have been cheaper.
In any case we finally got to Limerick, the last stop before Cork.I was looking out the window thinking "Maybe I should just stay here. Due to the lateness of my start I will have very little time in Cork before I have to turn around and come back. Limerick looks like a nice alternative, I could actually have time to enjoy it." Yes, I was thinking in classical English because I'd been reading the Scarlet Pimpernel on the way over.
Then my realistic side was like "You paid -- a lot-- to go to Cork. Go to freaking Cork. Do Limerick on a day when you paid a fair to go to Limerick."
Once we parked at the station everyone got off the bus but me. The bus driver came up to me and said I might as well get out and get some fresh air because we would not be leaving for 25 mins.
So I went inside, went to the toilet, bought some food and came back out. Well, apparently I'd misheard him on the time because the bus was gone.
So, spontanious amandonment of plans and staying in Limerick was on.
Here is cool clock I found there.
Well, the ride down here had been pretty long and I needed to be back in Galway in time to get the last bus to Loughrea. It was already like a half an hour past when the bus was supposed to have left by the sign.
So I went inside and asked to buy a train ticket to Galway. I haven't taken the train yet because they are way more expensive. But I had a diabetic dog to get home and feed. So I asked to purchase a train ticket. The woman said the next train didn't leave until 6:05, it was 4:30 at the time so I was in better luck waiting for a the bus just in case, I could always purchase the ticket later.
I saw the logic in her statement and went and sat out under Bus Stop 3 again.
While I was wondering which of the buses milling around would pull in and take me home a nice guard came up and asked if I was alright.
Well, I was stranded, and I was wearing my red leather jacket with my peach purse which in retrospect was a mistake this morning. But I assured him I was ok.
"Where are you going?" He pressed. I explained I was going to Galway, after all I was under the Cork, Limerick, Shannon, Galway pavilion. He smiled and pointed to spot number 2. "That is the Galway express."
So, maybe I did need his help.
In any case I got home and fed my diabetic dog.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Fish and the best 13 year old
Why are fist considered pets? Pets bring inspriation and life to a higher plane with their deep-brown eyes. Pets take up half your bed and refuse to be kicked out. Pets make you feel special because they love you no matter what a wreck you make of your life as long as you take care of them.
Can you cuddle a fish? No.
But Madison, you can't cuddle some cat's are they pets?
Can a fish have affection for you? No.
Can a fish make happy noises and dance when you walk into a room? No.
Still failing to see how a cat falls fit given the qualifications?
Cat's are fuzzy. Except for those weird bald ones. And they have expression filled eyes. Even if said expression is usually scorn.
I am house sitting/pet minding right now while my family is on holidays.
The fish tank has become a disaster.
The room was begining to smell like fish tank. Which it never has before. The tank was looking like... do I need to go into details? what do you think was floating in it?
I kept trying to clean it and when I did I found dead fish.
So whatever was wrong was making me avoid the dinning room like ground zero because of the general smell of rot.
And whatever was wrong was killing these poor fish! Why? I mean, fish live in dirty water naturally!
My attempts to fix the situation over the last few days had been unsuccessful. I texted my family, even though it was like 10:30 my time. I just couldn't leave it.
The dad called me back on the house phone, told me not to be upset as fish die. Once one speaker instructed me on how to what he thought the problem was.
I had to stop myself from being like "Grab what? The pump?!! That's SUBMERGED the gross water! There are fish in that water!! What if they touch my HAND!!" I very bravely, or at least silently did as instucted and set the pump right.
Then I hung up with the family and called my family via skype. So I could have support while I attempted to drain a third of the water from the tank.
They were very supportive. Unlike the cat who kept Meowing to me about how she thought I should feed her. Not unlike the journalists in the spy show I like who seem to think their opinion on freedom of the press is relevant to the crisis at hand.
I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed that my job consists of cleaning fish tanks rather than averting nuclear disaster in the way it is presented in a fictionally BBC series.
Anyway, buckets and buckets of water later my little brother was still keeping me company. (In fairness my sister has an awful cold.)
Finally my little brother Eli said, "Madi, when you are done with that can you do me a favor?"
I said yes, thinking he wanted a sheep t-shirt or something next time I was in town.
He said "Take a bubble bath."
Isn't he the best?
Oh, and when I was almost finished with the tank one little guppy came up to the surface, looked at me and started moving his mouth. I realize he was just eating all the junk I was stirring up. But it was cute to actually realize he was an animal instead of an innconvienece.It felt like one of those James Herriots when they spend hours delivering a calf at three in the morning, in the field in Yorkshire. Then the calf comes out and James forgets how cold he is or how rude the farmer is because he is wittnessing the miracle that is life.
But not... because after all, this was just a fish.
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