It's official

Slow month for updates it would seem, well, i've been busy being a nurse and stuff :)

Plug plug.

http://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=130532767014117

Wednesday, 5pm. Listen.

Stay, my Valentine.

I didn't write any sonnets yesterday, nor was I serenaded by moonlight from my (imaginary) balcony. Mostly because I was at work all day...

I do like this though, written by a very lovely friend of mine. If you'd care to take a gander.

"Dear Love,

They try to celebrate your existence by cramming it into one day. Clearly, they do not know your worth. I would struggle to fit you into an eternity, without you bursting at the seams, and spilling over into days that have yet to be.

This world needs you now more than ever.

Until we meet again,

Love,

JJ"

See, now that's what they should write in cards.

Love.

प्रेम

Another reason not to facebook...

Is that I always forget to "go offline" when I don't really want to talk. Then I'm likely to offend when someone says "Hi." and it switches to... "Sarah is offline."
This popped into my head, if it reads like it took 5minutes, that's because it did soooo, not pretending it's Poe or anything.

Sometimes you're online,
Even when you don't have the time,
Or the inclination,
To hold a conversation.
That's fine.
I just wanted to tell you.
I miss your voice too,
But if online is the best we're going to do,
I'll settle,
Hang out with the kettle,
Drink tea,
And wait for the moment of elation,
One notification,
"I'll call you later, please answer."

Food For Thought

I wrote this at the creative writing workshop in Northampton, didn't have the guts to read it out but here it is incase you want to see how poetically stunted I am.

I want you to think of all the food you ate today,
Breakfast Lunch and Dinner & how much thinner,
You'd be if that's all the food you'd see in a week,
Because I just think it's bleak,
Seeing babies like ours out there sick & crying,
Sick & dying,
Whilst i'm sick & tired of seeing another good meal thrown away.
But we just waste anyway,
Whilst they waste away,
& as long as we're ok we'll just carry on with our day & maybe pray,
to God,
that they hold on long enough, to get strong enough,
to work thier farms, to fill thier tables, to fill thier bellies.
If there was half as much good in this world as there is greed,
I really think it'd be us sowing the seed,
of change & I know, it'll take a while to grow,
but when it does it'll be more mindblowingly breathtaking than any sunrise or sunset bestowed upon this earth,
and for what it's worth,
they're just incredible in India.

Sometimes.

Superiority complex

Without naming names, I've just read a very unpleasant blog post concerning the people we were honoured with meeting in India. It makes me very sad that someone in our position, with our wealth, education and understanding of poverty should be so close minded and condescending in thier description of the slums, and the families within.

True, these people are poor, well below the poverty line, and lacking in much of the basic education, healthcare and facilities that westerners take for granted. But this does not give us any reason whatsoever to look down on them as simple, dirty people. And that's me avoiding quoting the blog in question, as it made me too angry to repeat. These people are rich in hope, and determination to better thier lives. They are proud of thier work, thier families. They want to be talked to, to tell you thier name and learn yours. I admire them, for thier strength in the face of the poverty they endure - I would never dream of looking down on them.

And you. You with your superiority complex. You'd do well to do the same.

Cuddle Weather

Sometimes I need to remember that although we are not together anymore, we're still under the same sky. Just because you are out of arms reach does not mean you're not still under my skin, coursing through my veins. I haven't talked to you today, but you'll call. I know you'll call.

At least I didn't have to say goodbye.

Short addendum

I still exist, i'm just in India for a bit.

Pre-knitting season preparations

I have decided, in one of my more creative moods, to start a proper collection of patterns. Nice ones, not all jumpers and hats and scarves. I have recently discovered Alan Dart's collections which are gorgeous if not a little tricky...

My cut-throat ebaying should secure me a sizeable collection alongside much pleading on the knitting network.

I have a feeling you'll be reading some frustrated "how-the-hell-does-this-work!" posts with some half finished project pictures soon :)

The curse of genetics

There is no way of being "un-related" to your immediate family.

This could be my phd in the making.

Um, that's not a synonym.

So, my friends let me down. Again.

I know this counts as venting, it counts because it's been more than a month since I posted on here. I don't care. I don't get to go on my only holiday of the year because people who are not meant to let me down, did just that - and only one of them said "I'm sorry."

Also, on a nicer note - my room smells like chocolate cheesecake brownies and tomorrow I'm having squid. My cocktail books came today and hopefully my fimo will come tomorrow so I can make a low-grade replica of the ring I left on the train. My favourite ring. The beautiful £25 ring that I adored, cannot find anywhere on the internet and will never see again. I am an idiot.

I get to go into town tomorrow and walk the 8minute walk to Georgey's, knock on his door till he gets out of bed and lets me in then he'll make me cheese on toast (he'll eat the cheese before it's toasted) and we'll cuddle up on the couch and watch top gear reruns. I might bring breakfast pudding. George told me he'd drive all the way to Wales to make me happy, which is why we're going to London to see Wicked instead and stay in a posh hotel :)

But! He, and my best friend are going away this week, for 2 weeks. George to Malaysia and Rachel to Michigan. I will miss them in equal measures in different ways. I don't even know where Malaysia is but it's 11hours on the plane. That's far too far away.

I'm going to get back to season 3 of The West Wing now, it's disk 5 and I want to get hold of the other 4 seasons before summer so I don't have to go too long without seeing what happens next (Little is lending.)

Tschuss.

"I had a dream...

I dreamed it for you. Well someone tell me when is it my turn, don't I get a dream for myself. Get off of my runway."

Today, no, this week, this month and this year have been the worst 6months of the making of my future.

Ask me what I wanted to be 6 months ago and i'd have given you the whole 5yr plan. The grades, the summer, the degree, the speciality, the job, the flat, the car. Then, well, you know the rest. Here I am signing on at the job centre for fifty quid a week and living at home with all my friends going away to make something of all this education we'd worked so hard on together.

I feel cheated. Cheated out of my own life.

Umm?

I'm still not going to university...

I don't know if i'm ok with that.

I've got a soul to feed.

I believe that right now, revising like there's nothing else to do in the world is damaging to my internal balances.

It's ok just to stop, put the pens down, turn the book over, sit back and turn the music up. Go and make a cup of tea, stack up some jaffa cakes and just come back to it in 10minutes.

You won't be able to sit in an exam and do well if you already destroyed your soul working for it 6weeks before it's due to happen.

Mr. Wainwright, you are just the right amount of chilled for such a break.

Dear Sarah.

Stop faffing about in the garden and do your PE coursework.

Stupid girl.

Go f**k yourself Mario.

Your restaurant is a dump and your manners stink. You treat me like shit then you have the audacity to send a snotty email insulting my school?! Giant tit.

Anyway. Now that's out of my system.

Fajeaster was yummy :) Warwick was pretty and pizza express throw pizzas alot. That sums up my easter so far apart from my lovely anniversary yesterday. We went to wagamamas and I got spoiled rotten. Yumyumyum.

Tomorrow I continue with my vegetable patch project that at the moment mainly consists of me pulling up the lawn. Come summer I will be reaping the sweet harvest of self sufficiency and seeds from 1994.

Stupid cat.

There's something vaguely soul destroying about listening to your poor skinny little cat crying under a table but if she refuses to eat for herself she'll just have to put up with being trapped between my knees having the cat sludge squirted in her mouth.

That's just how it works cat.

Well of course it's worrying.

I have the house to myself for the next 3 days.

I must remember to do a myriad of important things. First and foremost, play doctors and nurse (and vets?) with the cat. She will not eat of her own accord neither will she drink so the only solution is to shove cat medicine down her throat and occasionaly make up a soup of greybrown cat sludge and force feed her that as well. She hates me, I can see it in her eyes.

Also, the fish need feeding. But they don't need it forcing down thier throats. Do fish even have throats? Well that interesting.

Ummm, it's raining, so my amazing gardening has ground (lol, gettit) to a halt. So I shall have to continue discovering potatoes all along the back fence and jumping up and down in the garden waste bin tomorrow. Also, you can't mow wet grass - which I discovered after overloading the motor and having it cut out on me.

What on earth am I supposed to do now? I feel like an elderly retired person with only her moody cat for company. Although if I ever turn into one of those old people who actually make lengthy conversation about the fact that Bungay bus shelter now has perspex sides I will have to do the world a favour and jump off a very tall building, because honest to God I could have screamed after listening to those 3 old Bungalites going on and on and on about it. You'd think there were more interesting things in the world to talk about than perspex. Really.

I'm going to go cook for one now. And be spinsterish. For goodness sake somebody ring me.