we'll meet in russian literature...

I was just feeding my dog and somehow managed to flick tripe down my top. This is quite an achievement considering the top in question was not low-cut in the slightest. My reaction was a little on the melodramatic side. My carnivorous former self would be ashamed.

I might start reading War and Peace, but it seems a little bit epic, and it's summer. Epic books are best left for the winter months when the outdoors no longer exist and we (I) retreat into our cosy winter shells.

My mum's in hospital for a bit (nothing too serious) so I have to get over myself and my all-consuming fear of hospitals and visit tomorrow. I'm not sure why I hate them so much, but I will not make the same mistake I have in the past of just not going at all. This seems a bit apathetic. From now on I will be perfect, superdaughter, armed with chocolate buttons and grapes. I hear ill people like grapes... It probably wouldn't be so bad if Helen wasn't in Madeira, because she has a superhuman tolerance for vomit and drips and all things clinical. She would probably calm me down a bit. I might buy myself a new iPod as a reward. Mine has never been the same since I washed it. Its fate was less severe than the phone I flushed down the toilet and the camera I killed in my bike spokes, however.

I realise that in the last week, I have written about absolutely nothing of any merit or interest, and for this I can only apologise. Perhaps tomorrow I will bring you a heavy, slightly obnoxious piece of prose on North Korea, or the plight of women (as you know I love doing), but today I'm not in the mood. Instead, I thought I'd just mention a few things I'm enjoying that are hovering about on the interweb at the moment.

• I really like the blog 'Dorothy Surrenders', which is very funny and intelligently written. Yes, it's written by a lesbian for lesbians and about lesbians, but I rather like it. I particularly like the thought of themed blogs according to the day on which they were written, such as 'Tank Top Tuesday' and 'Gender fuck Thursday'. Excellent.
• After having mentioned 'Alex Reads Twilight' last time, I have discovered his friend and flatmate Charlie's video blog. Turns out I'm fairly out of touch with this one, as he's been rambling on and strumming his ukulele for quite some time. Regardless, I quite like him.
• jezebel.com is the sort of writing I aspire to. It has a great mix of trashy celebrity gossip and more serious subjects such as cats eating peanut butter...
• While the Sartorialist will always have a place in my heart, Hollie Templar (whose blog I visit sometimes just for its sheer beauty) linked me to this site earlier today and I fell in love. This is the cherry on top of my cake of Scandinavian obsession...
• The 'Life and Style' section of the Guardian never fails to throw up something of interest. And even if the subject matter is trashy, the writer always manages to put a homely, middle-class glaze on everything.
• Yes, I've linked to it before, but frankly, it deserves two mentions. Sarah and I saw a boy in deck shoes reading Moby Dick in our hostel in Berlin. She commented on it, and I made a reference to this wonderful, wonderful blog, but was shocked when she knew nothing about it. Sarah, you are welcome. Just while I'm on the topic (feel free to skip this part if you are short of time/have a life) I feel the need to mention a second hand bookshop we found in deepest, darkest Berlin. It was run by two English guys, one of whom looked like Jarvis Cocker and was tuning bongos. We went in and found ourselves in heaven. There were gorgeous old Penguin books for €2, a massive poetry section, and all sorts of bizarre German comic books. They made us a cup of tea, and we must have spent at least an hour there. It was just brilliant...
• Finally, LaBlogotheque, Black Cab Sessions and watchlistentell are all great ways to discover interesting new bands...
  

the glory of summer...

Well hello there. I have returned from my excellent trip (see facebook if you're interested, but i won't bore you here). I am once more in the little village of Wolverley which I can't help but feel is bad for the soul. My mother has a better social life than I do, and I can't currently see any means of escape after what is bound to be a disappointing set of results on Thursday. The more I think about it, the more I want to cry, but crying is hardly productive so I won't waste the time.

While away, I read two really good books: 'I Capture the Castle' by Dodie Smith, and 'Everything is Illuminated' by Jonathan Safran Foer. The first is a light, funny book about two girls who want nothing more than to be classic Austen-esque heroines, while the second is much sadder and more poignant. It pretty much blew me away, especially when I realised how young the author was when he wrote it. This makes me feel particularly inadequate, mostly due to the fact that as I have mentioned, I am spending my time in Wolverley doing washing and making various kinds of bean soup. The novelty of being home wore off in about ten minutes. I want to be back in Munich.

The sky is about to burst, which should pass some time. I might watch 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' again. I think it's that sort of day.

Right, enough moping, I still have Edinburgh and Greenbelt (aka God camp) festivals to look forward to which should both be ace. Best of all, I haven't had to pay for either of them. Lucky swine.

and so the tears begin to fall...

I am filled with the sort of divine happiness only achievable when the sun shines this brightly. In two days, my skin has gone from hopelessly pasty and a little bit corpse-like to having a nice sunkissed glow (or something like that). I'm such a summer person, I really am. The only things that get me through the winter are scarves and duffel coats, but otherwise I really do dislike it quite a lot. This is mostly because I am perpetually cold and I hate living in the almost constant darkness winter invariably brings. Today, however it is difficult to imagine even the existence of winter. Today it burns your feet to walk on the same patio we had to shovel snow from in the winter. Mind boggling...

This week is bound to be eventful and emotional as we leave Haybridge forever. It's strange. I've been there a third of my life, which makes me feel both terrified and really rather young. I'm not quite sure how to feel about it all. Even though I'm certain I could not stand being there for another year, this week has arrived pretty quickly and I will be so sad to leave. While at that school, I have gone from an awkward, nerdy twelve year old with no confidence to a slightly less awkward, possibly even nerdier adult. I'm still working on the confidence thing...

On Saturday, I have to battle with my unavoidable hangover to get on a train in Birmingham by nine in the morning. I am now cursing myself for booking such an early train, but I'm sure the destination will make it worthwhile. I'm off to the lovely Croyde in north Devon. We go every year with half of Stourbridge and even if the weather is shoddy, a good time is always had. Unfortunately, I must put up with the presence of my overbearing, manipulative, inconsistent mother and her cretinous boyfriend who I suspect does not possess enough brain cells to even pronounce the word manipulative. I am determined to enjoy myself nevertheless because I love long, solitary train journeys and though I have been to several places much more exotic, there is something about Croyde that makes it a strong contender for my favourite place in the world. So even though I am sure this beautiful weather will exhaust itself long before this weekend, I am excited. And I vow that I will make it into the sea (but wetsuits are such a faff aren't they? I have been known to go in wearing just a bikini at this time of year, but I fear that I may have lost some of the stupidity of my youth, so we'll have to see.)

I will put up photos of all the lovely goings on this week for those of you bored enough to care about the things that happen in my life. To do this, however, I may have to buy a camera. It'll have to be identical to the old one too, as my mother bought it for me and I don't quite have the heart to tell her that I lost it months ago. Goodbye money, it was nice while it lasted.

with a dreamy far off look, and her nose stuck in a book...

I haven't been out of the house for two days. Usually I would find this depressing, but right now it's really rather wonderful. I've been watching LOTS and lots of House, as well as The Devil Wears Prada and Step Up (an awful film. Seriously.) Because none of these things are all that distracting, I've actually managed to get some work done. If I were to prioritise, I would do history coursework, followed by preparation for French speaking which falls a week tomorrow, then finish up my English coursework. Of course, my brain does not work in such a rational manner. I've been doing general English work, Wuthering Heights mostly. I've been colour-coding, note-taking, partaking in general literature-based merriment, the works. The exam isn't 'til mid June. I'm not really sure what I'm playing at, but some work, whether important or not is better than no work at all. Right?

I had everyone round here on Friday night which was nice. There was minimal vomit and I think the house actually turned out tidier after the party than before. This is because my friends are awesome. And really bizarrely tidy. My messiness is as mystifying to them as their urge to live in a clean, pleasant environment is to me. Minimalism has never really been my thing. What's the opposite? Squalor, or just plain mess? Either way, that's how I live my life. Anyway, it was really nice to see everyone. Equally, the next night, I had the pleasure of catching up with some old friends, including my ex-vicar Fiona and her husband Martin who had us all over for dinner. It was absolutely lovely despite the fact that we all seemed really tired due to holidays and hangovers.

It's time to lose weight for the summer. I don't like winter much but it does hold the advantage of being able to conceal rolls of fat beneath rolls of fabric. As soon as the snow melts and the gladiator sandals come out, there is no escape. I do this every year. Yo-yo? Me? We've acquired an archaic rowing machine from he who must not be named, which is a start. I may not lose weight, but my arms are now really manly. Score.

Everyone is breaking up. This is bad at the best of times, but I have unusually high levels of cynicism in my blood, so when there is a spate of break-ups like this, I climb further in my metaphorical (though not insignificant) bitter hole. People cheat, people get divorced, people die. I always thought Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella were wet. Esmerelda is awesome and beats up her future husband whom she chooses over the evil man who could ensure her safety. Belle strives to escape her "provincial life" by choosing an ugly guy over the town hottie. Mulan gains the gratitude of the emperor of frigging China! They all end up happy. Well, they all end up married. According to Disney, I'm pretty sure these two things are interchangeable. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, so I will summarize. Girls with principles and a strong will end up happy too. They do tend to be animated though...

you are on a boat with the man your man could smell like...

I'm loving these longer days. It is nearly seven, and not even thinking about getting dark yet. I know farmers dislike darker mornings, but really more people benefit from lighter evenings once the hour changes. We've broken up (at last) and it's time for a proper break. I have nearly three weeks off before I go back to school for just a few more weeks then leave forever. I really can't wait, but I'm going to miss my friends so so much. I could vow to stay in touch with all of them forever but I know this is unlikely. I hope we'll all continue to hang out when we come home, however. I also know I will never lose touch with some. Haybridge has its faults but the people are not one of them. Apart from some (most) teachers...

This is genius. Thank you Philip Garfield for making my life better by showing me this...

I got my eyes tested today, and this can only mean one thing. NEW GLASSES! I have somewhat neglected my eyes after sitting on my favourite glasses a while back, leaving me with only the navy ones which tend to pretty much carve into my face... I opted for some nice Red or Dead chunky black frames and thanks to the NHS they were nice and cheap. Time to nerd it up again...

Helen's coming home for a bit tonight and we're going out for a curry with some old people. Her return means I need to hide all of her belongings I have pilfered from her over time, which is no small task. (Helen, if you're reading this, someone tricked me into writing it. I have never borrowed any of your things. I have CERTAINLY never stolen any. I love you...) So now I take my leave and head into the deepest, darkest Black Country. If I don't come back, I love you all. Sarah you can have my scarf collection...

Napoleon wears the trousers...

Life is moving at a truly terrifying pace. Summer beckons. Weeks are passing with little warning. There are buds on the trees and the crocuses are poking their little, happy heads out from the soil. While I love Spring, it always seems to be marred by looming exams. In short, I am scared shitless. I feel unprepared and unconfident and though I keep looking at universities, I stand little chance of actually getting in to any. I am in coursework central and cursing my inability to be organised. My sleep pattern is erratic at best (not helped by my mother crawling in at one each morning, rousing the dog and therefore rousing me too) and I am so stressed! I do not mind this time of year, however. On the contrary, I quite enjoy it. It is difficult to put into words, but during the spring months, laziness is not an option. I feel like I should be spending most of my free time working, and it's really quite motivating! I keep telling myself it's the final push, not much longer now. At least with my subjects (English Lit, French and History) there isn't all that much revision to do. But this also means that you go into the exam feeling unarmed. I have got used to it over the years.

I am going to Nottingham tomorrow just as a final effort to like anywhere other than Warwick and Sheffield. After this, I have given myself a week to decide where I am going. I know that if I don't do this, I will dither for months before I make up my mind. This is something I would like to be sure about.

I have decided (far too late in life) that pink is my new favourite colour to wear. Because I have such a corpselike complexion, a bit of pink makes me look a little bit less yellow, which can only be a good thing. From now on, rather than greys and blues, I vow to wear pink and turquoise (just because it makes me happy) for all eternity. I will make an exception for my red duffel coat, however as it is an extension of my being...