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We helped her to get ready. We picked the dress, and curled her hair and did her make-up. We soothed her nerves and calmed her fears and smiled and laughed and waited.
We waited for her reason, for her sense of place. We waited for him, and finally he arrived.
We chatted, did our best to tease and distract him, until she descended the stairs.
There was no gasp of astonishment.
There was no cry of amazment.
He just stood there and looked at her, mouth slightly open, just staring and staring in wonder.
Coldplay isn't so depressing anymore. Instead it is memories, soft and sweet and gentle. Instead it is your heartbeat in my ears, your breath on my cheek. Soft. Instead it is your blue blue eyes, and dark hair beneath my fingers. Sweet. Instead it is you holding me. It is you being with me. Gentle.
I can't quite put it into words, which is a first. Can't quite whisper how I feel. I feel good. I feel like the song you were playing. Like music. Like we could run away. And no one else will understand but you.
Surreal. It doesn't seem real. Like my mind's playing tricks on me. Like I'll turn around and you won't be there at all. It all seems a little disjointed. Stitched together at the last minute. Like I've lost all the connectives.
I'm so tired. Maybe that's it. But I still have to touch my face to remind myself I'm still here. Playing round and round in my head. A dream. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it didn't happen at all. But I'm sure I remember it. But I miss it if I blink with my eyes shut. Open.
"Do I rank higher than ice cream?"
It made me laugh.
3 days. Until... my saxaphone grade 5. Aaargh!!! Until my 2hr long B2 IAA retake. Meh. Until my birthday. Not really much of a yay there, I'm too busy worrying about other stuff. Something else which came up today: my name. It's not short for anything. It's 5 letters long on my birth certificate. Gee, I must be running out of creative juices if I'm writing about my name. I can hear my parents arguing about my latin grade. Everything's going downhill. Except us. I hope we're not.
Yes. I do want you to. Feel free to hold me forever. Never let me go. It was just the voice inside my head... don't worry, I sat on it. It needs sitting on sometimes. And sure, I'm disjointed and awkward and one day that'll probably get on your nerves (there goes the voice again) but I can tell the part of me that's telling me these things to shut up. Just shut up. Because I don't care what it has to say anymore. Angela says 'bait' by the way. I don't know what it means, but still. Caelum. Sky.
It's my birthday tomorrow. It's also my grade 5 saxaphone exam, and my biology IAA retake. Not so good.
But the sun shone today. I like the sun - it warms me, opens my petals like a flower in spring. Which I am. A sweet-pea, to be precise. My birth flower. I sat on the bus on the way home and let the sun shine on closed lids. It felt nice, just sitting there, listening to the surrounding conversation. To be part of something new. To be liked, to be accepted. It'll be my first birthday at school. Bye 15...
I've left this day till last.
Today was my 16th birthday. I made cakes [lots of them] and brought them in for everyone. I like making other people happy.
I also did a total of 6 hours in biology catch-up, trying to perfect my portfolio... but it wasn't too bad, because my teacher is really nice. I had friends round in the evening, which was nice aswell. I got lots of lovely presents [including a plane ticket to America... aargh!] and I generally had a good day. I do not want to grow up. So I won't.
Oxford, A Day in the Life.
Sunshine. Good start - already I'm tempted. Gorgeous city, my kind of winding streets and old buildings and cobbles... so far so good. Actually, more than that - already I'm in love. It's beautiful here, and the university and the Bodleian library are dream-like. We wandered, and sat on the curb and ate fudge with our fingers. I called him when he was late, grinned at his idea of me in a video game. I'm too attached after a day... so now my aim is to go to oxford. Good luck with that.
Ha. Well, I felt terrified. I care what they think, you see? They are my extended family. To be fair, my extended family is quite extensive - I am prone to opening my arms wide to the people of the world - but they are my immediate extended family. So the grass and the sun and the shorts and the shades were... good. They laughed and said you were brave. I wore the earrings. They're amazingly pretty; delicate and understated, which gives them their own kind of beauty. I wish I could live up to them. I wish I could be simple.
We left today. I think. It was so long ago I can hardly remember. Funny, how I thought April was going to be special and instead.... this. A jumbled mess of memories. December has been my best batch so far. It's got a purpose to it. I like that. Anyways, on this day: travelling. Yeah, about 7, 8 hours I think. In close confinement with one of my best friends (yay) and my brother (not so yay...) but it was sunny. Stayed at the Conde's in the evening. Fabian was there, which was nice. Marie too - on a motorbike... :P
A bowl was placed in front of us. Cereal? Of course not. This could only be for the tea. A bowl - I'm not kidding. Chocolate cake and apricot jam (it tasted as good as it sounds which is, basically, delicious). Briosh (sp SP!!) and a shower in the dark. Which was kind of scary/ embarassing. Then another long drive. Up the mountain, but Emma saved me with her music. I LOVE Tim Minchin - only a ginger can call another ginger ginger,
just like only a ninja can sneak up on another ninja,
ahh good times good times.
I think this was our first day skiing. Emma is a natural... she's got no fear. Dad took her down the nursery slope a couple of times. It was good fun actually, going over proper technique again. She says her aim is to ski black runs by the end of the week [I hope she's joking]. We may have had dinner with the moses' - fondue methinks. It was nice... oh, and some guy asked me when the light went green, and I told him he could just cross the road - the light was for the cars. Gemma told me afterwards he was being suggestive. Oops.
Emma is definitley a natural. Jez took us round for a bit today... he got Emma up the mountain and down some steeper blues, and I kept up with him off-piste! good show all round. It was fun being back with Gemma and Henry again. Jamie, Alex and Stephen were all skiing off together too. Lunch with Marianne and Kit.
Funniest thing - Jez's friend Andrew, his son Ben and Ben's friend ARCHIE [said in the most yorkshirian accent you can muster]. Funny funny funny. Me and Gemma laughed so hard. Aches and pains, all part of the fun.
So never under estimate
The power that language imparts
Sticks and stones may break your bones
But words can break hearts
A couple of Gs - jeez, unless you've had to live it
An R and an E - even I am careful with it
An I and an N - and in the end it will only offend
Don't want to have to spell it out again...
Only a ginger can call another ginger, ginger
Just like only a ninja can sneak up on another ninja
So listen to me if you care for your health
You won't call me ginger 'less you're ginger yourself
Gotta love Tim Minchin
Blood Red Roses - as sung by Mike Pratt at the VFSS shanty workshop, Nov. 30 1988 My clothes are all in pawn Go down you blood red roses, go down And it's mighty draughty around Cape Horn Go down you blood red roses, go down Oh, you pinks and posies Go down you blood red roses, go down It's round Cape Horn we've got to go Chasing whales through ice and snow Oh my old mother she wrote to me My darling son come home from sea Oh it's one more pull and that will do For we're the bullies to kick her through
Ahh, merci mon petit poi
I'm you're little pea?
Oh, is that what it mean? *radiates innocence*
You radiate innoncence like my radiaator radiates cold
Is your radiator broken? ;)
No, it just likes to surprise people...
Ooooh, I can't remember what the other type of de-ja-vu is!!!
Why don't you David it?
To David: to research/ annoy with pointless questions
to irritate or confuse
to be used as a research impliment when no other method is available/ you can't be bothered ;D
Daaarling, daaarling, the kids have got water.
No no, it's all right, they can have coke as a first day treat.
We were all trying to get away from uncle Nick's plaaahstic hat!
Honestly Nick, never wear anything that you wouldn't want to be seen above the mantelpiece in.
Where are George and Saskia? They're sleeping on the ground floor you know...
It's a delightful litte chalet - just like that case we had in -96
That's the problem with you lawyers: it takes you forever to get moving!
Oh, how we love Uncle Nick
Sun, snow, ski. Whitness, slushy in some places, icy in others. But sometimes, and only sometimes this time of year, you get a patch of really good snow, that the skis just glide over. It's a treat then, and you can get down anything, fast as you like. As it was, I nearly got taken out on a patch of slush because Stephen was attaking me with snowballs. I couldn't even pelt him back, I was so sure I was going to lose my footing. I held it, just, but he wiped out in a drift bank. Serves him right ;D
Today I saw blood. Lots of it.
Emma jumped, and didn't land where she intended. The result appeared at first to be a bruise... and later showed to be a 5cm gash in her shin. I could see bone beneath blood. Emma couldn't look. At midnight she was taken to a doctor, who stitched her up. I stayed home, listening to a drunk screaming by the river. An injection left her sobbing, but she watched the stitching take place. She's brave. She didn't scream - only watched. The bandage was massive. I think I was more scared than she was.
Emma can't really walk straight, not after last night. I'd like to point out though, that before the midnight stitches episode, we did ski two black runs that day. And this is the first time Emma's skied - two black runs, in under a week! She's pretty amazing. Very athletic all round, although she can't do sport for a little while now. Long car journey tomorrow - 14 hours. Ah well, I have Emma to keep me company. We laugh so much together...I love it. I hope her leg gets better soon - the hole was about 5mm wide. Lots of blood.
Oops. I didn't write anything about the royal wedding... can you tell that I'm doing this backwards? Never mind. Now, the wedding:
She was beautiful, wasn't she? Graceful, elegant, regal - she is a lovely person. I loved the way they laughed together when they thought no one was watching. And the Queen's face when we sang the national anthem. I love the Queen - she's so cool. People talk badly about the royals, but I rather like them. They make us Great Britain. Emphasis on the patriotic 'Great'. I watched so I can tell people who aren't born yet, that I was there for the joining of a royal.
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
"Fools", said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
In the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign said, "The words are
written on the subway walls
And whispered in the sounds of silence
Simon & Garfunkel
We're turning into cannibals
and everything that she wants
is made out of minerals,
I don't know what I've done
she only speaks in subliminals,
the reception here is lousy
and the service is minimal
Out there with an eskimo, I
swallow, as we becomes mechanical, I'm
hollow, and I seem to make you miserable,
so take back your tiny chemicals
'cause I need a miricle.
Can you make it go away
make it stop, stop?
There's something that I'd like to say. Take that.
The Duck Race.
Every year my village holds it's annual duck race. 100 yellow rubber ducks, each with a number drawn on (there was a scandle last year when Duck number 10 went missing, presumed lost) are poured into the river and washed along by the current (or Colin with a spade and some waders). The spectators, or general village people, bet on a duck to win. Like the grand national, only not quite. Stephen does commentary, and wears a bowler hat. I sat in the field (medow!), in the sun, with Duck number 54.
Sometimes I love village life.
I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar I am a Liar...
No. It hurting shouldn't feel nice. It's probably got nothing to do with me (I'm far too self-centered and assuming... I need to start minding my own business) but it shouldn't hurt, whatever it is. If it hurts, you need to revise the situation, fix it, change it, whatever the cost. Make it stop hurting.
I think this was my first day back. It was nice, I guess, to see everyone again, even if it was a little stressful. I think I'm stressing myself unnecessarily. I also think I'm being melodramatic. So what else is new?
I dooooooon't want to go camping with lots of tiny children but Rory is making meee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Meh. Sorry, I just thought I'd tell you.
And now for some take that...
When the boy meets girl and the girl meets boy
And the boy thinks the girl's all right
Get your head out the library
Get the courage of the cavalry
You might be good looking,
But you can't sleep with yourself tonight
Oh what a beast, oh what a man
I need some gas and a kick start, for a good heart
And you'll get no sleep
But you might be turned away
So what will you say?
And now my only friend, the beard, is gone. Not forever, because he assures me it'll grow back (like most hair I suppose) but for now, no more. Clean-shaven, I think is the correct term. Year 8 face is how I described it. Which is a bit of a lie because he only aquired said beard last summer... so technically year 10 face. But hey, who's judging?And bait. Bait with two of the (supposedly) wrong people. Hmm...
EllyEllyEllyElly where on earth are you?? Not here, is the answer I'm obtaining so far :P I miss the beard.
He asked me for a favour. Of course I said yes. I met him in the morning and we drove around Hempstead and Finchingfield looking for people. Rory's got a good heart. Everyone says so, and it's true. It was sunny, and I got to meet the others who'll be staying with us in May. We're all going together for a few days, doing some voluteering. Rory's making me go - he says I'll have fun. Julie says he's going to make a good dad one day; he gets on well with the boys.
I'm gald I did him a favour.
If you cannot love yourself, you cannot be loved by someone else. Love is about the binding of two people, each with an express love for both members of the partnership. A love for yourself, and a love for another.
I don't think I'm mature enough to be in love. I dislike myself too much. And I love freedom - I love to be free to do what I want, when I want to. I love that feeling of running wild, no restrictions. I can go anywhere, do anything. By myself. It's a good feeling. I don't think I could bind myself to another being.
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