Sea White

On a break from this.

Channeling all my thoughts through a real pen, into a new book.

This wastes words.

T.T.Y.L.

In The Night

Justin Bieber is so amazing (:

I'm not even going to bother with an apology this time around, here goes a run through of the highlights of the past 3 weeks, a photomontage-esque whistle-stop tour of why I'm 300% right now, and in no particular order:

M.I.A and Sleigh Bells were insane. I saw them in Oxford with Emma, and I don't think I've ever been in a room filled with so much energy, nor a show where people scream along to the support too., nor danced so hard and with everybody else in one night. Going to the Zodiac again, for the first time since March, was the first time I've felt like I've properly moved away from Oxford. Since university I've always still thought of Oxford as home, the place I could walk with my eyes shut, but stepping into that venue for what felt like the hundredth time, after what seemed like a hundred years, felt like past tense itself had hit me over the head... I used to go there all the time... how strange.

Next up... a few weeks ago, Olivia, Tim, a few others and myself went out to Camden, and with the intention of just going to the pub, we ended up going to the Cuban, a semi-Latino club in the stables. Enter the salsa skills I've been building up, and a lacking in any feeling of potential humiliation, and a very stacked guy who looks like he can dance. He can.

It was quite a surreal experience, very much like every dance movie I've watched to be spun and, well, danced I suppose, almost effortlessly, by a total stranger, who at the same time kept telling me how rubbish I was, and teaching me real salsa, and wouldn't let me go until I appeared to have passed some kind of test, a rite. I'm definitely going back.

The weekend after that, Jo, Tom, Milly, Milly's friend Rachel, and I went over to Milly's house to have dinner with her parents- this is not that odd an occasion, and always really fun- and having insisted that I had too much work to do to come over in the first place, Tom and I ended up staying until about 2 in the morning, having won a game of scrabble as Ravenclaw, with a lengthy list of tactics and sly moves from Milly's mother, Carlo (Slytherin), graceful play from Gryffindor, Milly's father, and Milly and Rachel aptly beginning their losing streak, reluctantly as Hufflepuff: ' How do you spell Gryffindor?'

'... And that's why you're in Hufflepuff'

We left with the last of the sparklers from the fireworks earlier that evening, and cast spells on walk-of-shamers, late-night wanderers, and various inanimate objects the entire way home. The life and times (:

And for a week now, I've gone back to doing what I love the most, what defines the places I go, the words I right, the dreams I remember. It's all thanks to one person, and for the future I hope, the world's greatest team. Thank you.

All will become clear soon (:

Orchid

Eleven

You were one inch from the edge of this bed

I dragged you back

A sleepyhead.

Sepia

News of the day is that my face is full of cold, and my arms feel like I've had every vaccine on earth in one go, and therefore, I am lying in bed while the night is still young, ready to fall straight back to sleep, having been awake for all of 4 hours, as soon as I'm done with this entry.

Also as a result, I've been on a liquid diet of John Mayer and soft piano covers all day, as anything heavier makes me feel nauseous. I'm not even joking. It's odd, I haven't listened to beautiful, innocent music for such a long time; it's weirdly refreshing, and kind of reminds you of the point of everything.

I've had a pretty cool week. My little sister came to stay last Wednesday, and we filled up the evening with fairground rides at Leicester Square, and dinner, and secrets at bedtime... I love that finally, we're growing to become really good friends rather than a counterpart to tolerate.

I spent the weekend in Oxford at a conference for Model UN... yes, I'm a ridiculous nerd, especially to find myself in a 'WHO' committee, where nobody else had made themselves aware of the finer details of the virology of HIV. But I want to get good at public speaking, and debate is a no-go as I view it in the same way as 'going' running- if you're not trying to get anywhere, what on earth is the point? And debate is argument for argument's sake.

Anyway, the sessions were fun, and the evenings I boycotted were awesome: I went to a Halloween party with Brasenose college with my friend, dressed up as a hipster and greeted by dumbfounded stares when I tried to explain, and hit on by every male within a two-metre radius of me at any given point, as I was 'fresh-blood' / Oxford guys are super sharky. Thank you Lord that I go to UCL. On the other hand, having told my friend that I wasn't really up for going out as I had to be up at 7.30 the next day, I danced until 3 in the morning, and had an amazing night.

I spent the next night curled up on the sofa next to my Mom and a hot chocolate, watching Saturday-night TV. I had a similarly chilled scenario on the Sunday evening, when I got back to London and went straight over to Ted's house to drop off the prints from my disposable photos from Ghana and Togo... I ended up staying for tea and poring over the photos together, laughing at the irreversible, candid beauty that is what I love about disposables. They are such an awesome bunch of images- the kind that you can laugh at and remember every minute of the day it was taken in 30 years time.

Monday was spent -and I am now starting to realise why I'm so behind in work- at said house again, and to be fair, a lot of reading was done whilst Louise, Viki, and I were sat together; descent into hyperactive chaos began once Ted entered, and sugary treats (as always, provided by Louise) were introduced to the equation. I had an awesome evening, including watching Anatomy videos with the funny-accent guy ("meta-tar-sal"), which only got funnier once I got home and Leo arrived.

And tonight I've just got back from Tom's, and have definitely written enough for one post, and so will summarise the evening by saying that I'm so grateful to have so many amazing people in my life (:

Exhale.

Shut eyes.

Sleep.

Orchid.

Dandelion Kiss

I'm listening to Avril Lavigne. This can't be good.

Curses, curses for not writing more often. Shaking a metaphorical fist at myself is firstly physically awkward, and secondly not going to create a mystical history-pen, so let's go from here.

I have now been fully immersed into second year, and I've decided I don't like it. I take my own words with a pinch of salt here, because they are accompanied by a sticking-out lower lip, and therefore may change in poignance with time. An hour may well be enough.

To clarify; everything is amazing. I love every single one of my classes: Palaeoanthropology (I can now tell you, from a mere fragment of bone whether it is fossil, living, ape, human, fibula or femur, and more); Primate behaviour and ecology (lecturer has lived longer with apes than with humans. Specialised in primate homosexuality); International health policy... in which I get to learn in great detail how impossibly corrupt the entire world is; and Medical microbiology- just pure nerdy awesome.

I love my house for being so cosy, my housemates for being so crazy, and my new neighbourhood for being so green and beautiful. Hampstead Heath is only 10 minutes away; I went for the first time on Sunday and it really is as gorgeous as everyone says. It's no Bagley Wood, but I don't want it to be.

I have a job, I have a pot of flowers, I have my sewing machine, I have a bicycle. It would be nice to have some friends to cycle to.

Things are so different this year. I am exaggerating; I do have friends, but they are new ones. Newfound friends who too care about dance- who live and breathe it too; those who can't sit still and watch all the crap that goes on in the world and want to do something about it; and those who simply occur in my day-to-day. I guess what's easy, goes.

And what isn't falls apart.

Distance isn't easy, apathy isn't easy, and changing what's important to everyone- who's important- isn't easy. What makes me sadder than anything is that it doesn't even feel weird, and I seem to have learnt simply not to miss anybody anymore. All that happens is the occasional awkward moment, sitting on a bus by myself, remembering how good things were not too long ago, smiling, and then remembering how excited I was for this year to be exactly the same. It will be golden. I just really, really hope, in a birthday candle way, that it doesn't have to mean losing those people who were my rock.

I almost hope I still can't live without them.

Orchid.

Jack

Dear Blog,

I am about to begin another melancholy drone, and have realised that you have become one of those friends one only speaks to on matters of self deprecation. I do apologise, however, I shall continue on my miserly tone until the next time we speak.

Faithfully,

Orchid

I feel awful.

I tried calling my Mother today, and realised that despite feeling lonely, I don't really want to speak to anybody right now. Every word I hear from somebody I know makes me want to cry out for freedom from the damn conversation, and yet I want to curl up into familiar arms, and stay there for a while. I feel incompetent, inadequate, ignorant, and a failure.

Jack of all trades, and master of none; I don't know how I'm going to be able to do anything with myself. I don't have the time (or currently even the patience) to see my friends; nor am I going to be a marvel within the things taking up my time right now.

Listless, in a word.

Orchid

Church

What a week.

God, I hate that phrase, but really, what a week.

It has been carefully composed of some unforgettable days, with unforgettable people; forgivable days, with certainly forgettable people, and of course, the Sabbath, a day for no work (broken), and quiet reflection on the crap that you don't have to think about on weekdays.

My mind is fairly insane right now- it's a week since I got back from Ghana, with so much that we did, achieved, so much to tell, to write- and all I can think of is who I am.

Who I am.

Who I am??

Who cares? I thought I hardly did, and the thought of soul-searching somewhat disgusts me, but here I am, thinking about what 'everybody else must think of me' and how 'I'm a poor excuse for a human being, especially more so for a woman'; and worrying, eyebrows curved permanently into a distant seagull, of 'what should become of me' in the future.

And this isn't the anxiety of a day, one that can be blown away forever by the good words of a friend, or a song I've been missing. It's one that waxes and wanes- given enough time to ponder- and I don't know how to fix.

In similar news, here are some being-back-again vows:

I shall take up pilates.

I shall take a photo of myself everytime I cry. I cry far too much for my own good, and bizarre as it may be, I think recording every occasion on which I do cry will help me stop... crying is often very self-indulgent, and maybe I can embarrass myself into becoming less melodramatic.

Last thing- I shall begin to use the word 'I' less often.

It's a rather poor excuse for the subject of a sentence.

Orchid.

Jade

I dont' think anything on the internet has ever made me smile so much:

"Today I was driving by the lake and I saw a Jeep full of guys pass me. They were hanging out the windows and the sunroof, paddling with canoe paddles, and singing "Just Around the Riverbend" from Pocahontas. It easily may have been the coolest thing I've seen, ever. MLIA"

Yep, I'd say that's about it for today.

Orchid.

40,000 Knots

On Wednesday afternoon, looking out onto a rain-drenched Deutschland, I suddenly realised that: 2 weeks ago exactly, I was marching swiftly through central London; 1 week ago exactly, I  was drifting through some Oxonian field; 1 week later I would be sleeping in Cairo, and 2 weeks later I would be haggling for a band, studio time, and some materials for film props in a market in Accra. 

Sweet.

The past few days in Cologne have been amazing. I saw absolutely nothing of Germany aside from multiple, slightly-different-from-British H&Ms- God bless H&M, really, truly- and made up for a lot of lost time with a small corner of my family, staying up until the early hours talking, laughing, crying. 

And so begins the rush to get packed, organised- not to mention insured- for Ghana, see a few more of my dearest, and head off... first on my list is getting my copy of Teach yourself Turkish... why not?!

Orchid.

Softly

All the leaves stuck to the soles of my feet, the dirt under my fingernails, the words I can't quite get my tongue around, the grace of a young lady, not quite yet acquired, are the vowels of what makes up me. They don't create the most beautiful syntax, but they are all I have.

So I'm going to hold onto them, tightly, softly.

Orchid.

Red

Listen, you little wiseacre: I'm smart; you're dumb; I'm big, you're little; I'm right, you're wrong, and there's nothing you can do about it.

My ex-stepfather found out about my tattoo today. This was bad. Bad. Not least because I calmly had said a few days before that I had my opinions about tattoos and he had his- incorrect: I do not understand the meaning of the word opinion, I, at 19 years old cannot have opinions, and if what I voice differs from what is said by his Highness himself, it is frankly, false.

My tattoo is a stupid idea, detracting from my main goal in life (which is to become a Professor, for all, including myself, who didn't know), and if it was a good idea and I wasn't ashamed of it I'd have it on my face. It is also no different from if I had got knocked up or hooked on crack.

I'm small, I mean nothing, there is never any reasoning behind decisions I take, everything I choose is out of stupid youthful lust for the unknown, and I am sorely mistaken if I ever believe that I am somewhat more intelligent or knowledgeable than Sir Disdain.

If I am spoken to like a five-year-old, I will respond accordingly. Please await your punishment, in the form of hats, superglue, and swapped hair lotions, Sire.

India Ink

God I love my friends. They're brilliant, fabulous, wonderful, everything, everything I could want and more. Perhaps it's because it is summer.

No.

Over the past one or two years, I have felt more and more complete and perfect with the people I have around me, and through all this time, I never cease to hear the comment "your friends are so nice!", as if this isn't expected, or normal, as if surprised. Maybe it is slightly odd that I am so blessed, maybe others are not.

After work yesterday I went to my friend's birthday gathering at a most certainly overpriced bar (more expensive than London, £1.50 for a soda lime, I kid you not), and saw all my friends from school. Well the majority of them. To put a wider grin on my face, Josh came to visit me in Oxford today. We went to Maxwells to visit Ben, and ended up spending hours there.

Ben, you are the actual best person in the whole world. The world.

Love,

Orchid

Glare

I'm starting to panic slightly about losing the summer, the real summer where you run around in basically a sheet & your little wicker basket on your bike & all that matters is being free.

I don't like my white dresses & my bicycle is broken.

Sinestra

Yasmine killed Benno.

Today, walking back home for lunch, i almost walked straight past Benno, thinking he was a flickering leaf in the middle of the road. Benno, in fact, turned out to be a little ball of feathers, & a feisty one too. He must have fallen out of his nest, & not only too young to fly back up, but unable to hold onto the branches i tried to put him on, falling to the ground & running out into the road again. He didn't seem to be a sparrow, and had wispy eyebrows, reminiscent of an owl or a merry sort of grandfather; he hopped into my left hand & i took him home.

I left him in a box with fallen flowers & twigs; a bowl of water & some bread soaking in it, & left him to close his eyes & sleep, with the faint hum of a heartbeat that young birds always have. I left him with my mother, told her to keep an eye on him & make sure that my little sister wouldn't frighten him when she got home from school.

After work & then an, um, interesting, but lovely cup of tea at Greg's, i went to visit my friend's brand new baby boy, who is so gorgeous & bright. I really do want the very best for them both.

At about 9 'o clock tonight, we came back to find Benno drowned.

My sister had put a wide bowl, filled to the brim with water, in his box despite the number of times my mother had told her not to because he would fall in & choke, & Benno was nothing but a feathered skeleton, limp & wet in my hands. I tried CPR- a little water did come out of his mouth & nostrils- & blew gently into his mouth, but i don't know if what i felt was that familiar tremor, or the pulse in my own fingers which held him.

Eventually i took him outside, wishing that his mother would find him & care for him... he grew heavier in my hands as i walked back outside, & i would love to believe that he was slowly awakening.

Oh no.

Orchid

Blueprint

Is it weird that i'm really excited for the future? I mean, not simply tomorrow when i get to see my friend's brand new baby boy, not really the weeks ahead in which i'll finally have time to see my friends properly, not even going to Ghana in a few weeks... i'm excited for my life.

I'm going to be fine.

It's not that i have every step mapped and i know exactly where i'm going- i don't- but, but i no longer want everything to be okay; i know i can make it okay, no- i can make it amazing. I just have a small feeling that my life is going to be what i have wished for... what i've wished for everytime i've cried until my head hurt, everytime i've had those blessed seconds to watch the grass & its family from barely a breath away, with every brush of smoke from a birthday candle each May.

I once read an autobiography called 'Ten thousand sorrows'. It was based on a Buddhist proverb the author's mother had told her, that "life is made up of ten thousand joys and ten thousand sorrows".

Today i've decided it's almost time to begin to fulfill the best part of the former.

Orchid

Prosopagnosia

I think I'm beginning to forget some of the faces i've grown up with through school, this town, this city. They could be any other stranger now, I can hardly believe I would have only a year ago, been able to tell who they were from the end of a street, just from the way they walked, or something. The weirdest thing is, I couldn't care less.

I'm refining in my mind those who matter to me... it's starting to look like a shortlist of people I've always mattered to, no matter what.

Greg, I miss you, let's catch up (:

Orchid

Quill

It's been far too long; i miss writing.

The past month has been composed of some weeks filled with ancient intellect, roaming museums and once-great buildings, some weeks with an unnamable pensiveness, and others with friends, sun and as much grass as London can muster.

Oh and not to mention finding a house for next year, not forgetting finding my inner 1950s WI-type domestic goddess along with it. My sewing list has doubled already.

I've been both craving and dreading coming home, and 3 days in, my reasons for both have been well and truly played out. I came back on Thursday night to surprise my Mother for her birthday, and have since unpacked, earned a full day's wage, been to a metal gig, basically started a band, essentially trashed the front of the Radcliffe Camera, and longed to leave at any given opportunity.

Song writing starts tomorrow, let's see how long this goes on for before i remember that i won't get anywhere with music again. It's a teetering scale swinging between aiming for a goal, wanting recognition, a name; and an irrational need to make music for my very sanity, and because if i'm not a musician in some form, i don't know what i am. It feels a little ironic though, singing, writing lovesongs when i know nothing about anything... but if music isn't about love, then what the hell is it about?

Orchid.

Cloud

Oh. So this is what abandonment feels like.

76 inches, 88 keys

I started writing this at least 14 times.

Today, this week, this mind, nothing is the right answer. But when i think about it, nothing is the right question either. I feel like this is me curling up into the smallest way of being human possible, to shield myself from all the philosophies and changing winds that i don't quite understand.

I cannot help but fall in love with everything that glitters, and everyone who is beautiful to me, and i cannot help but hurt when they're not around. I wish i hated, i wish i could only give halfheartedly, but i simply cannot. I cannot say goodbye without a tear, nor hello without wincing with the knowledge that the future will have to be farewell.

I don't know what i'm saying, there's too much, and there are no words. I want to fill the world with all the love i feel for it, want for it, wish upon every person walking it, i...

... don't know.

It's not enough, it's not enough, it's not enough.

Orchid.

Diary

You would think that after a season of heavy exams (hence the blog neglect), you would be able to close your eyes, count 1 to 10, and relax. On the other hand, you could have bitten off just a little more than you could chew, and find yourself replying to a seemingly endless list of important emails (Dear Whoever, I am so extremely sorry for the delay in response, I have been up to my ears in revision which should have really been done throughout the year, procrastination which I thought I had exorcised before I became a real student, and about 5 hours of sleep every night for the past month...); ignored text messages, and sorting out my life.

I have six ongoing projects at the moment, all of course with a lot of backlog. Yeesh.

On the other hand, I had a super birthday party over the weekend and got to see most of all of my favourites, but all of my most favourites (:

And now I think it's time for bed.

Orchid

Chi

This won't be lyrical, but it's all i can cough up right now.

So i'm still screwed for exams, more so than before, although this time it's totally my own fault & i'm a bad student. This is nothing to do with bad luck.

Although, i take part of that back. I've been feverishly ill for the best part of this week, to the point where i couldn't concentrate on Lemsip instructions, let alone gastrulation or whatever. 

Yesterday i went to Regents Park for the first time; it's beautiful.

Today i cleaned my room out, so that i can focus more.

Earlier i admitted something, to a friend, and to myself.

Tonight i made a promise; i'm going to keep it.

On top of that, i'm going to turn yet another new leaf, and i'm going to be a really nice person, a really good person. I want to make myself proud.

Orchid.

Key

Oh my God.

I am actually going to fail my exams.

I am well aware I say this every year. But I actually am. Holy mother of Jesus. To make my day a little more interesting than the realisation that I am so fucking fucked, my life, along with any visual abilities I had left, is officially over. I have been staying in my friend's room while she's been away as my roommate's family have been staying over, and so, all of my most important possessions for this joyful season are in there; my laptop, all my books and notes from the whole year, my toothbrush and glasses are in that one room. And I leave that one damn room for a mere 2 hours, only to find it locked upon my return. Adding just that much more excitement to the whole scenario, it is not (as it never, ever is) in our goddamn policy to open the door for you without explicit permission from your friend. Who is in China. Until the end of next week.

Fuck.
My.
Life.

Carmen

This is the bird i buried by the Church:

Orchid.

900Ti

This would have been the story of my week in Egypt, but it shall have to be a tribute to my first true love.

Dear IXUS,

I loved you. You were the first one to understand me; you were the first thing i ever understood without trying. You were there for poetry with no words, you were there to crystallise meadow-lit smiles. Every port and boundary i have crossed in the past few years: you were there.

You told me about magic; how sometimes, there are things only your very own eyes can see, and so to treasure every blink and flash for the fear that they belong only in the space of a second.

I remember the first ever photograph you gave me, and now, i have the last. I remember our- me Chris and Greg's- discovery that you were special; when you were 10.0 megapixels and nothing else came close, and the first thing i had ever seen with face detection and rotating images. I remember when your bolts came loose, and there was a pinprick on your screen. I loved you nevertheless and bandaged you up because i knew that still, you were the best camera in the whole world.

I remember when i lost you. I remember when i lost you, and i couldn't speak to anybody, and i couldn't see a beautiful thing without wishing, longing, that you could be there to see it with me- and everything else i saw was the mirage of your greying titanium gleam. And being reunited is one of the happiest memories i know, and ever will.

But now, it's not the same. This is it, Egypt has eaten you up for good. I think i knew in my heart of hearts that we were soon to part for good. I was ready for everything but the loneliness, the true feeling of "like i've lost a limb".

Chloe, now i truly understand how you must have felt without Bez; Melissa, i know how you felt after that party.

I will never forget you.

Orchid.

S.O.S

You know, as everyone else does, in your little shelf of obvious facts in a pocket of your brain, that you're dying from the moment you're born, hairs, layers of skin, snakelike. Right now, however, it's as though i can actually feel each cell bidding me a farewell, cell after cell, eating closer and closer to a core where my soul was once safe from insanity. I am in total isolation, in an alien place, and every academic word ever written makes me want to gag. I am an expert now in a variety of diseases, & find watching the open fridge's standstill existence hypnotic and novel.

Jesus.

I miss... living?

Cotangent

As requested.

I am definitely not cut out for hot weather, and beginning to doubt highly supported hypotheses of african origin of humans- no sign of acclimatisation, no sign of brain activity in the median hours of the day. The most i have stretched myself to do today is to go swimming at the crack of dawn with my sister, write a few postcards at lunchtime, & drag myself in a zombie-like fashion to a shop to buy some water. Oh and colour-code some notes on transitional epithelia, my favourite.

The weekend preceding our travels to Egypt was packed and good; the week itself, packed and sleepless, clocking a total of 23 hours of sleep, and i'm still compensating. On Friday, following a lot of rushing around, meeting deadlines, tutors and trains, Tom and i set off to Oxford for his birthday present (about time too), an Ellie Goulding gig at the Zodiac. The support band were disappointing, and slightly hate-able, but the inbetween music was awesome, notably so- little bit of 70's funk here, little bit of Come as you are there. As for the lady herself, she was beautiful and demure, as expected, and the music was amazing as well, one girl and her drum taken to the next level. The more i think about it, the more glad i am that i went.

We trekked back to town; finding no-one at the PT, we headed Four-Candles-wards to find a couple of people there, and then officially acquainted Tom with Branos, before we headed home, by which point i was deliriously awake.

The next day, i spent the day walking around Oxford, in the sun, rain, East & West ends, from lunch to tea break & finally to home, where my friend Lauryn was waiting for me (in between town and home i found a dead bird which i buried beside the church, tributary photos and more to follow). About a 6 months into homelessness and house-hopping, 7 months into pregnancy, and it's going to be a boy. I feel awful for her, but also so excited- she's going to be a great mother. I think i'll end up going to the delivery with her, i don't think anyone else will be. Oh dear.

More later, i have to run off to a pyramid or something.

Orchid

p.s. Chlo i'm so proud of you! More than you know (:

Latitude

It's a shame you don't know what you're running from...

How do i even begin to describe every vein in a butterfly's wing, every single one of the million turquoises it can be in every different light, and just the next four footprints i'll show to the dust, from the thousands that are yet to be mapped onto the globe. And where they will be?

Arete

Today, Tom saved my life.

It was the first time in a good while that my severe inability to cross roads (coupled with my oh-so helpful rabbit in headlights response) actually almost got me run over for real, but luckily i had a Tom right there to intervene, or rather to delay what's been coming my way for a long time. One of these days...

Thx bbz (;

Orchid

Puella, puellam, puellae

I am quite ill.

Having gone through an entire box of tissues & all motivation to work in my sorry state, i have settled for listening to the Alice in Wonderland soundtrack (original Disney), reading the original manuscript on the British Library website, & tumbling down, down, down into my Missing-Oxford rabbit-hole.

I want a Chloe to take care of me, but because i am ever so lucky, i have a Milly who came back with Fortnum & Mason chocolate for me, despite having given up chocolate for lent herself (how selfless), & a Lottie bearing further chocolatish delights, & flowers. 

Oh my ears & whiskers, how late it's getting!

Orchid

Eighteen

YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS COS WE'RE YOUNG AND IN LOVE.

Quartz

Stress, according to our psychology lecture today, is the perception of too little time for the tasks at hand, which causes physiological changes. So what does that make me? There is no time. I need more time, more minutes in an hour and on my phone. I want more time to sleep, more time to write- i had the most amazing week last week, in particular the most amazing Monday, & i'm afraid that i'll forget it all because i haven't had the time to write. And even now, i don't, i write this eyes-closed, dreams-calling, wind-singing-a-lullaby. 

And so to bed.

Orchid.

Forced Vital

I just want to say...

Iwishiwashomesoicoulddancelikealoon&singlikeacat...

& walk barefoot through the grass,

Reach my arms up to the ceiling & pretend it's the sky,

& find the highest note that i could ever reach,

Sew a new dress, take a new breath.

Blow glitter to the night, & paint a pair of eyes, a soul, onto the back of a cereal packet.

& sing.

Liopleurodon

Only things of note in the past few days:

Randomly deciding at 9 pm to go to the Natural History Museum on Friday night. Dinosaur masks, trying to get locked in over night (& obviously failing), & being in absolute awe of all the bird specimens. I've always wondered how Darwin could have looked at a bunch of finches & thought "Ah yes, finally, absolute proof that there is no God!" To me, that's hard, solid evidence before your very eyes that there is certainly an amazing power beyond the material & beyond what we can possibly ever understand. To me, that's the knowledge that i'm not alone. I take back what i said about the Natural History Museum in London being a poor show in comparison to Oxford's; it's actually pretty fucking awesome.

Making an amazing lunch today. Chicken & rice. I may parade around with a sign now, announcing the fact that i am not a vegetarian, with the remains of my Sunday déjeuner painted across it. That'll show 'em. Alternatively, i'll learn the names of all the dinosaurs.

Orchid.

Spaceman

I cannot express how happy i am that i came to a London University, & not some other place where it may have been easier in many aspects. I had the most awesome reading week last week. In fact this term has been amazing, & we're only just over halfway through.

Just last week i went to Brighton on Wednesday. Then to a free gig & beachwear label catwalk thing on Thursday with (as seems to be part of a weekly routine for me now) free drinks & canapés, & the hottest models, at a club next to The Ritz. On Friday, i got free tickets to see Dead By Sunrise in Camden, & had a surprisingly awesome time: the support band were insane, but as per usual somewhat ruined by a crowd of douches too cool to dance.

I've just got back from a silent disco at the Science Museum. The way things are going, i'm thinking museum events are the way forward. Only about a month ago i was at a masquerade ball at the V&A, & this was even better. And nobody would ever dance like that at a club, it was so awesome just to see people dancing like they do in their bedrooms. And even more amazing to take your headphones off in the middle of Empire State of Mind, & see hundreds of eyes closed, & hear hundreds of people singing "There's nothing you can't do" with absolutely, all they've got.

Note, all of the above- free. Totally, utterly free. The guest list/ secret event life, i've definitely acquired a taste for it.

And:

"...yeah you told me in your blog"

Seeing as you claim a little ownership over it...

Dear Tom,

I think you're so cool, you're my idol. I want to be just like you when i grow up. Cooking rice with you is always lots of fun, & i am glad that you like crispy rice as much as i do. It makes me even happier to know that you too understand about how it's useless after about 10 minutes. I'm sorry for the times that i stormed off, especially when i slammed the door real loud, & i'm sorry for all the times when i kicked or hit you way too hard. I'm sorry for the time you couldn't eat any of the chocolates because we mixed them with the tramp ones. You're really good at plaiting & knitting & cooking & making me laugh & knowing what song i'm thinking of. I hope that you lose our bet & i get Pocky from you... although i will still steal almost all of them if you win. I know i say that i hate going to Tesco with you, but i don't really, & anyways, when else do i laugh so much when i hear "Please insert your card into the chip&pin device"? That is what she said. You are very special, & you get a bazillion more bricks than Fritzl Come on, he gets like one for merely being a bunch of molecules, and no more. You get a bazillion.

Orchid

xoxo

Polly

I think i was almost physically sick with disgust & contempt, more contempt than i have ever felt for the world we live in. And for myself; i did absolutely nothing to help, nothing. I don't know who you are, but i hope to God you're okay.

Orchid

Locket

Fill my hands with water

Drenched in all the words

That were spoken by a mother

To a voiceless bird

Steal the night, the hours

With mirrors, & ink unspilt

And all I’ll eat are flowers

And all I’ll taste is guilt

 

Hidden from the horse’s mouth

Gilded lies fly North to South

And I am not a little girl

But sleeping daisies fill my world

I blow them kisses

But they will not wake

 

And what’s a curve to a knighted world

What’s a diamond to a sea of pearls

What is coal to eyes that are black

They only see black, she breathes black

So what is black to the stars

Who have long

Turned

Their

Backs?

I'll never tell.

Sleepless

The best way to go night to night is with irony, i find.

Spend one evening dressed to the nines in 'New York', listening to Gershwin, in awe of the orchestra; spend the next at a secret Chinese New Year VIP gathering, with no Chinese people, where only the young professionals of Brick Lane are 'cool' enough to experience Chinese Experimental/Punk. Spend the next screaming 'Where Did You Sleep Last Night' with every fibre of your being, eyes closed, arms skywards.

"The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles."

Orchid.

Blue Rinse

Oh man do i want to go home. 

I just want so much to go to the Nag's Head, steal the whole sofa & have a chat with Stabby-Joe, talk about what new shops are due to open in the precinct, & get chips from Smart's on the way back home. 

I want to go back to Masons, buy ribbon i will never use in every width & colour, & get especially excited when i see there's a new one in the 20p bundle basket. Go to the tearoom, talk to old women about the weather & how i'm growing up to be a lovely young lady, not like those other youths. 

I want to sit under my tree in Albert Park & pretend to integrate & cross-multiply, while in fact counting blades of grass in complete bliss, waiting for Ben to arrive with Merlin on his walk, so i can tell him my next plan to save the World. 

I want to catch the bus to town, complain about how extortionate the bus prices are, how much better transport is here, but know that i would never in London experience the same comfort i do when i see the same bus drivers who helped me catch the bus by myself for the first time, let me off when i had no money, asked me about my day, believed me when i lied about my age, laughed at me when i finally dropped that pretense. I want to get off at St Aldates, rush for no reason through the crowds, walk to Cornmarket, to HMV & see who the new kids in town are; feel disgusted at how mouthy & obnoxious today's 15-year-olds are. Go to Shakeaway, visit Emma for a while- although maybe not anymore- then to Mahogany, & wave to Rupert through the window. Call Chloe, laugh, cry, scream. Get ambushed by Melissa ;)

Go to Kennington, for swings & minimilks, & more swings &, actually, no roundabouts. 

Pretend to myself that i'm going to go out to the Bridge, meet everyone at the Red Lion or something, then decide to go home at 9. Walk back alone in the pitch black, & stop, stare, at St Michael's church, because it's so beautiful at night. Open the gate, step lightly to the porch, look in, look for flowers, or someone who could change my life forever. I just feel that's the sort of place you'd meet them. Out through another gate, down the road, slip my key into the lock, & go & tell my Mother all about my day.

And i'd say it had been wonderful.

Orchid.

Cocoon

You can throw daisies over your shoulder all day long, but sometime, maybe around twilight, you must leave behind gingham & major chords, & look for roses.

Ragdoll

I should really learn how to stand up for myself.

Yesterday was so-so, not much to say, and i'd planned a productive evening of cardiac physiology. Cardiac physiology is hard enough as it is. It is made no easier by very loud, fast Swedish buzzing beside you over Skype for certainly over one hour, possibly over two. In this situation, you may wish to block out the incessant noise by turning up your music; alas, this only results in the feeling that your head is about to implode.

So i took myself off to Jo's room, where everyone was hanging out, and waiting for some jelly to set. In the meantime, Tom & i occupied ourselves with the phenomenon that is Lottie's Stick On Bra- the ceiling, the window, a face- all good places to test its suction power.

I'd forgotten how good jelly is. Mind you, the jelly last night was by no means even comparable to our old School Jelly, but it was jelly nonetheless. I'd also forgotten how much of an effect sugar has on me.

Following much colloid-joy, i decided to go to bed. Or perhaps not. My roommate had locked the door, having gone to bed, while i, on the other hand, had left my keys, my phone, my- well everything except for my own self- in the room. And no amount of knocking aided my cause. Next up, very cold, very, very cold night spent on hard floor wrapped in Jo and Milly's combined pyjamas, towels & sleeping bag. Fast forward to this morning, and i managed to get the spare key from reception (still no response to my knocking), get myself to lectures, go for coffee, come back to find her still asleep. When she did wake up, i said nothing. When she asked me what was up, having told me about how glad she was that she finally managed to get a good night's sleep and various other excessively chirpy comments, i said "Nothing." 

Oh well. All's well that ends well i guess.

Orchid.

Wardour

Where to begin...

This week has been overly emotional, and highly strung. I have had a predictably stressful day today, but starting with yesterday, i did basically nothing except organising my files and reading up on aging in worms, and then being excited for Yasmine getting to London. I picked her up introduced her to "um.... these are the people i live with" (: and then took her out to dinner in Little Italy.

Chinatown is stunning at the moment; all the lanterns are up for New Years, and the paw-cats are lined up outside supermarkets. I'm glad she enjoyed it.

We came back, introduced her to more of my friends, & had a mini-party in my room, which was sweet.

And then today came knocking, accompanied with my Momma, uncle & too much food for one person. There are people you love, but would much rather avoid most of the time, calling up every now and again to let them know you care, but really hoping for the absolute minimum contact time. People who, even though you feel fine, you're fine, life is fine, how you've arranged your saucepans is fine, the order you put your books on a shelf is fine, continue to insist that there's an issue you should be upset about. People who really are no fun for smiley happy people. I am a smiley, happy person. My uncle falls into the former bracket. How stressful. In addition to this, my Mother's comments about how i appear to have "shrunk in the wash" were not very well received; i'd like to think, actually, that i am perfectly well, very much contented and am trundling along smashingly, thank you very much.

Having said all this, i do love my family, and my Mother is the best one in the world. Trust. 

And you've got me standing in an

Awkward position with

Unwanted attention

And a need for explanation

But i could never let you go

And that is all i know.

I just played the most awesome game. Well:

Going through the alphabet, naming something from Harry Potter for each letter. I'm the second coolest person on this planet.

Oh and i just lost the Game. Had to be said, sorry everyone.

And finally,

This is for you.

You know who you are.

You will when you watch it.

Orchid.

Victoria's...

It's one of those days where you've listened to the same song over and over, with people and reflections in between each rewind/play, and at suddenly 2 am every note and lyric makes sense. And there's no getting away from it.

It's one of those days you know is the one of few remaining, one of many gone by, biding time.

Dipping toes into water.

It's a new turn on a blue day.

I'm really excited, my baby sister is coming to stay over tomorrow, and by baby i mean kid; possibly an excursion to Leicester Square should be good, possibly giving Soho a wide berth.

Definitely choosing 'slumber party' over the million other 'awesome' ones, is the way forward. I miss her.

Orchid.

Fair Verona

I give up, i give up, i give up.

I need a new box of tissues. This might mean i actually go to Tesco & buy real food & actually eat viable meals. Every cloud, i guess.

Thicker

I wish i'd written earlier, or every night, because i've had such an amazing week & now i can't remember every detail. I remember last Monday night- being at work from 1.30 in the afternoon til 10.30 at night to help out at a drinks reception, rolling with the chief execs, chilling with the caterers one of which apparently was on BB5... & chocolates from my office on Wednesday for doing so, which i proceeded to hand out to people on the tube & on the street on my way back home. Went to a lecture by Vince Cable on Thursday night, which was very soothing to listen to if anything, & a masquerade ball at V&A on Friday... darling. Saturday was a day for sunshine so I went to Brick lane for bagels with a bunch of friends, making full, gloating use of my travelcard (: followed by my friend Katherine, who goes to my uni but i knew her from the year above at my school, coming over for hot chocolate & a long chat. And yesterday was DJs vs the Big C, which was really fun, if somewhat ruined by an angry phone call just as i was just about to go in. I got back, my friend made me dinner & helped me cook my lunches for the next week.

I know i keep saying this but i really do love everybody & everything so much. I love London for the fact that the other day i was thinking about how great a composer Gershwin was, & immediately checking out Timeout & booking tickets for a Gershwin concert. I love all of my friends, i think, more than they will ever know & i wish i could put it into words sometimes how inspirational they are to me, how fiercely i'd defend them if anybody dared disrespect them, & how they are my rock- i'd be at totally, utterly lost without them.

Despite how independent i like to think i am.

Orchid.

Stella

Today is a day for John Mayer; Neon, Free Fallin'... She's a good girl.

As soon as I finished writing last night, as if the world had read my mind, My came on Skype. We talked for an hour or so, and then  i went to sleep. 

Today, the Sun came down to London to say hello, & let us know that the bitter cold is only our Winter fellow & there isn't too much longer to wait. And in the evening she is a reminder of a silver lining that we make with our own hands, & our own greedy eyes, the image that no photograph can capture, no film, and blazes at you from the window of a 6th floor, the point where the Sun greets the thick City smog somewhere in the distance and they dance for a while, and for a while you have eyes only for, only for,  brilliant purple twilight.

And then you know.

Orchid.

Mulholland Drive

I think i just realised something really important.

And straight after that, in a completely different direction, a different wave, i realised suddenly just how much i miss Mayumi, & how much i wish L.A was 5 minutes away for both of us & we could go hang out at hers & we'd go to an awesome gig & meet awesome people (but never more awesome than us) & walk back in the early hours singing Requiem at the top of our voices... or just mine, rather embarrassingly. It literally hurts, physically, to think about how it will have been at least a year, at the very, very least one year, by the time we see each other again.

I don't just miss my best friend. I'm miles & months away from a sister.

Orchid

Carousels

It's probably clear that i'm not in a very wordy mood right now, not thinking in sentences, only in polaroids and pirouettes. 

Lex

l'Oxygène

hé petite fille 

tu bois de l'eau et tu es saoule

 là où tu te noies tu as beau avoir pied tu coules 

au port

au port

Advesa, Karuna

Today i don't like:

£25 fine

Oyster

The temperature

How much work i have to do

The bitchy girl in my anthropology tutorial group

Today i love:

Going dancing every night

Samba

Salsa

"The girl from Ipanema"

Desafinado

My market friend

Bleach

The map, the globe

Everywhere

Everyone

Everything

You

Whoever you are.

Bubblewrap

:D

that is all.

Bluegrass

Last night me & a couple of others here were having a jam which gradually turned into a little country sesh, as my friend is doing a year here instead of in America where she's from, & i insisted she taught us some proper American music.

So now my song of the day is Wagon Wheel (:

I've had a pretty random day; work at Westminster in the morning, followed by a lecture on acclimatisation (oh the irony), i've just got back from doing a few ECG scans on someone else (coupled with a proper grilling on the physics of it all from the assessor) & now i might go out dancing.

Except probably not.  I feel really, really faint & since yesterday i keep getting really dizzy- i felt like i was about to pass out looking out of the tube window yesterday. It's taking every last ounce of energy just to stay awake & even go to sleep. I'm not even tired.

And i want to go to the seaside, now.

Orchid.

Chancery Lane

I'm stuffed.

I did a little physiology this morning, before heading off to my first anthropology tutorial to decide my presentation topics and essays: Hunter Gatherers for next week & the Origins of Bipedalism in about a month. After MUN i hopped on the tube to work to discover on my desk a nice, fat pile of filing to do, but also 2 envelopes addressed to:

Miss Orchid Vishkaiy

The Liberal Democrat Party

4 Cowley Street...

One was a gentle kick up the backside wishing everybody a restful Christmas to prepare us for super hard grafting this year (i left before their official winter break started), while the other was a really adorable Christmas card (handwritten) from Nick Clegg.

After lots of ctrl A, right click, copy, minimise, paste, send, and realising that i'd be the first person in the office tomorrow morning, i went to meet my friend from my course, in Farringdon, from which we went back to his apartment...

I love having a gay best friend. Totally not what you were thinking right?

So now i'm back having been cooked a three course meal, an amazing three course meal ("Champagne darling?") in one of the most eccentric apartments i have ever seen- Persian carpets, vintage hand-drawn maps of Venice, brocade curtains, the best of course- & a couple of episodes of Absolutely Fabulous.

Hell.

Orchid.

Synapse

To make everything worse, the Universe is incessantly sending acoustic guitar my way, just to make me even more pensive & daisy-brained.

And quite a lot like a square hole & a round cube; they just don't fit together.

I feel precarious & nervous, i just wish i knew why.

Let's do this upside down today.

93 Feet East

By the end of last week i was definitely ready for my Ma to go back to work & my sister to school, having spent 24 hours a day with them for over a week, due to my issues with not spending time with them on the occasions they are free... & then there was snow.

The night it snowed in Oxford was like something from a strange dream. I'd started walking to Summertown with only a very thin layer of white on the ground, barely visible,  barely audible under my feet. I wasn't paying any attention whatsoever to the real world, only to daydreaming, so reaching my friend's house & seeing myself soaking wet in the mirror  outside, & looking down to see snow up to my knees felt like i'd missed out on an entire day of my life somehow. I stayed for a bit, met my other friend & trekked back to town & met our other friends at the pub. Oxford at midnight under a thick blanket of snow, untouched & untainted is something you really can't explain in words. The best thing about snow is how it puts everyone on the same level, regardless of age, regardless of culture, regardless of whether or not you know someone, it's like a present from the world to absolutely everyone. It took us hours to walk back, getting caught in crossfire here, being snow ambushed by total strangers there.

The worst thing about snow is that it means that once you do finally make it home, you're stuck there for good, your power cuts out for hours, & once it's fixed your heating decides to go A.W.O.L on you. And your driving test that you were SO going to pass this time is cancelled.

I never knew i would be this glad to be back- i really do love London & more than anything, my street. It's not a New Year's resolution, more a new term's resolution, but this time around i'm going to be more efficient, get work done fast, & then go to all the little niches of London i've been wanting to go to for so long, starting with sitting in on a Nickelodeon show because i apparently can, & going to more dance classes because i finally found the class i was looking for. I'm going to go through all my issues of Harpers Bazaar, all the back pages, because they always have really unique ideas of what to do with a morning, afternoon, night, hour, minute in London, things like a specific sandwich to take out from a specific food place & precisely which bench to sit on in the precise square while you eat it.

When i got back i went to visit my friend Olivia, who had just got back from Poland & had brought me back a beautiful classic eastern European scarf- i've always wanted one. We went on a walk & ended up on Oxford Street, which i hate but somehow always end up on. I spent the rest of the evening pretty much moping, much needed moping.

Yesterday i knitted about 5 inches of a hat for a friend's birthday present, did a little & nowhere near enough work, & made my costume for the software themed birthday party i was going to that night:

I'm Myspace (:

The party was more of a very fun gathering with cool people & music, & tuneless howling along to songs & surprising everyone with my extensive Tenacious D knowledge- Tribute is by far the best song to confuse people with if one person starts to play it, & while it seems to be a random weird song random people join in & also know all the words despite the fact that it is merely the beautiful ramblings of Jack Black. I hung out at my friend's flat (where the party was) in Stepney Green for most of today, & most of today was pretty depressing, what with today's bleak skies, graveyard & towerblock view outside the window & the very hungover or stressed remainder of the party people, while knowing that i'd end up achieving absolutely nothing today. Which is precisely what happened. 

On the way back to halls though, i bumped into Tom for the first time since end of term, on his way to Oxford Street... needless to say, yet again i ended up trudging through endless people & Uni-Qlo, & being Tom's shopping slave. Which was fun (: Afterwards we went to Soho- again, sometimes you don't know what you've got til it's gone and you've got it back- & coming to say a quick hello to Tom's dad turned into going to dinner with them, & a major Chinese faux-pas on my part. Apparently if you finish your cup of tea, someone is stood right behind you, waiting for that precise moment to leap in & pour you more. And what's more, if you get to the end of the teapot, two seconds later you've got another one. Chinese hospitality, it turns out, dictates that if someone finishes their plateful/ cupful, it means they still want more. I did actually know that but i really never expected it to apply in a non-domestic situation.

I am SO tired now.

 

And starting to get quite excited about getting an apartment next year as i think i'll be trying to get a group together with Olivia, & i can imagine exactly what our place would be like- kind of like a trendy WI, with matching crockery & homemade curtains & lots of flowers.

Orchid

In Memoriam

It's been a while.
Maybe if i work backwards i'll remember more.

Okay- today was a Sunday. Nuff said.
Yesterday... was amazing. I love yesterday. Muchos.
Livvy & her father picked me up in the morning from town & we went back to her house, which is a sweet little ex-cottage, still dressed to the nines for Christmas. We were then driven to Woodstock, & to the free entrance to Blenheim Palace Grounds. The bluest sky i'd seen for a while, the lovliest person i'd seen for a good while, cold, crisp & gorgeous. We had lunch in the quintessentially English village, while back at Livvy's afterwards we were treated to much needed mugs of hot chocolate.
I went to my Ma's, friend's, daughter's engagement party in the evening & talked to a couple of old eccentrics, which was quite fun.
In ways.

From Wednesday through Friday i was in London with my Ma, sister & uncle, visiting various extremely distant family & family friends, crashing the car, redecorating my room in halls & of course, New Years Eve. Well that was certainly a bizarre affair. Melissa came over in the early evening, we got ready & walked to Notting Hill (why do i never learn?) for Rupert to come & collect us once we'd got to a "gate with a jungle behind it, opposite Winter Wonderland". It turned out not to be an extension of Hyde Park which we originally thought he meant, but a series of very expensive apartments, one of which belonged to one of Rupert's very rich friends, where we also found Chloe and some other people we didn't know. We left to find a nearby pub, talked, sang, shouted, counted down about 3 times & were delighted to see it snow at 00.00 hours, Friday 1st of January 2010, on the dot. Having returned to the apartment & failed to locate food or any takeaways in the whole of central London (although one did answer only to tell us they were having a party), Melissa & i decided to go on an adventure & milk free transport until 4.30 am for all it was worth.

A kind of North, South, East, West thing.

And to be quite honest, i really don't remember beyond that.
Other than that i saw Mary on Tuesday & it was lovely... & i saw Ben at some point, which was very much strictly necessary- theres only so long i can go on being sane without the boy.

And that Christmas day was a partial success- i only managed to achieve one out my three aims for that day, but it was the best one. So now i have a plan.

(:


Orchid.