him: That's Daryl Hannah!
her: Her dad must have really wanted a boy.
him: It's spelt "Darryl" with two "r"s in it.
her: So... if you spell "Roger" with two "r"s at the end, it's a girl's name?
him: Two "g"s.
her: I think we've found the name for our girl child.
26 July 2010
21 July 2010
An Unwritten Life
Writing is really hard work. I am learning this at an exponential rate, especially now that I am halfway through a 24-chapter, 384 page story and drowning in names and places and whatever-colour-Luc's-eyes-are-at-the-moment. Who did what? Why can't I put him in this event? Oh wait, he died six chapters ago. My bad.
When I used to sit in class and have to write a narrative in one and a half hours, I loved it. I think it was my favourite part of studying, writing english compositions. And I did think at the time, this is fantastic, I wish this could be my job. And now it is my job (kind of), and I love it, but it is so hard that sometimes I feel like I need to be physically restrained to stop me from tearing my eyes out and rewriting all the work I've done up to this point.
I have actually punched myself in the face on the bus, thinking about how awful everything I've written is. I have wondered if I would end up hating Damir and Kione like Doyle hated Sherlock Holmes. I have gone momentarily blind after writing for six hours at a time. I have shouted at my computer to shut up.
But I am starting to really like Luc, the stowaway who doesn't really know what he is doing, is excited about life and also terrified of it, doesn't want to participate but doesn't want to be left out. Unlike the other characters, who seem to have drastic mood swings depending on how I'm feeling when I write, Luc Harman has somehow survived as himself.
When I used to sit in class and have to write a narrative in one and a half hours, I loved it. I think it was my favourite part of studying, writing english compositions. And I did think at the time, this is fantastic, I wish this could be my job. And now it is my job (kind of), and I love it, but it is so hard that sometimes I feel like I need to be physically restrained to stop me from tearing my eyes out and rewriting all the work I've done up to this point.
I have actually punched myself in the face on the bus, thinking about how awful everything I've written is. I have wondered if I would end up hating Damir and Kione like Doyle hated Sherlock Holmes. I have gone momentarily blind after writing for six hours at a time. I have shouted at my computer to shut up.
But I am starting to really like Luc, the stowaway who doesn't really know what he is doing, is excited about life and also terrified of it, doesn't want to participate but doesn't want to be left out. Unlike the other characters, who seem to have drastic mood swings depending on how I'm feeling when I write, Luc Harman has somehow survived as himself.
08 July 2010
Oh, to have good friends that remember things!
Viv: It's a pity you can't make Pulau Ubin on Sunday
Me: Yeah, probably for the best though. I have a Kione deadline Sunday.
Viv: KIONE!
Me: Haha, why the fanfare?
Viv: Miss him. Haven't heard about him for so long.
Me: Yes, so long that you've changed her poor gender.
Viv: Oops.
Me: It's okay, she's at the bottom of the sea at the moment anyway. Not sure how I'm going to get her back.
Still don't know how she's getting back. Poor transgender Kione.
Me: Yeah, probably for the best though. I have a Kione deadline Sunday.
Viv: KIONE!
Me: Haha, why the fanfare?
Viv: Miss him. Haven't heard about him for so long.
Me: Yes, so long that you've changed her poor gender.
Viv: Oops.
Me: It's okay, she's at the bottom of the sea at the moment anyway. Not sure how I'm going to get her back.
Still don't know how she's getting back. Poor transgender Kione.
14 June 2010
Relationship advice, five cents.
Confused: How do I hint to him that nothing's gonna happen between us without being too obvious or hurting his feelings?
The engaged one: Just be really clear and honest. It'll be okay.
A pause.
The engaged one: Or you could pretend you have a boyfriend.
The engaged one: Just be really clear and honest. It'll be okay.
A pause.
The engaged one: Or you could pretend you have a boyfriend.
01 June 2010
Especially vulnerable around movies about animals.
I cry really easily. I remember when I was six or seven I used to love watching the movie Homeward Bound about two dogs and a cat whose family leaves them in the care of a relative who owns a ranch while they go on holiday. The animals think they've been abandoned and run away from the ranch and try to find their way home through the wilderness. What happens in the end? Hint: it's got the word "Home" in the title.
There is one part of this movie where something happens and the cat falls over a waterfall. Every time I watched this movie, I cried so hard at this part that my mum threatened to take the thing away from me. But the cat! Went over the waterfall! How could you not be sad??? But in my mum's world, you're only allowed to cry the first time, when you don't know the ending yet.
But it's not just movies, which I seem to have become a bit more immune to in recent years. It's any kind of emotional conversation about anything, and it makes it difficult for me to talk about things I really care about without looking like a case of female hysteria from the 1800s. I HATE IT.
I went to look on the internet forums to see if anyone had found a solution to this problem. (I love the internet so much. I was watching Sleepless in Seattle the other day with Les and suddenly I realised, wait, the people in this movie DID NOT HAVE INTERNET. How did they live? How did they find out stuff? I love finding out stuff, but I really don't think I would have bothered going to the library every time I needed to know something. Internet-connected world, we no longer have an excuse to be stupid.) And of course there were loads of other people online who claimed to suffer the same thing I did, as there are for virtually any condition, imagined or real, on the internet. Hooray!
Admittedly, some of their cases were a bit more serious than mine. One confessed to crying whenever he turned the radio on. Naturally, no one in the pages of comments that followed suggested that he just don't turn the radio on. Huh. There was also a forum that simply asked: "Do you cry really easily?" to which people replied: "Yes, I do."
Thanks guys, super helpful!
But I did find my solution. Someone posted that it is impossible to cry if you tickle the roof of your mouth with your tongue, and it actually works. Anyway, I managed to talk to my father about getting married without dissolving, so hooray for me.
There is one part of this movie where something happens and the cat falls over a waterfall. Every time I watched this movie, I cried so hard at this part that my mum threatened to take the thing away from me. But the cat! Went over the waterfall! How could you not be sad??? But in my mum's world, you're only allowed to cry the first time, when you don't know the ending yet.
But it's not just movies, which I seem to have become a bit more immune to in recent years. It's any kind of emotional conversation about anything, and it makes it difficult for me to talk about things I really care about without looking like a case of female hysteria from the 1800s. I HATE IT.
I went to look on the internet forums to see if anyone had found a solution to this problem. (I love the internet so much. I was watching Sleepless in Seattle the other day with Les and suddenly I realised, wait, the people in this movie DID NOT HAVE INTERNET. How did they live? How did they find out stuff? I love finding out stuff, but I really don't think I would have bothered going to the library every time I needed to know something. Internet-connected world, we no longer have an excuse to be stupid.) And of course there were loads of other people online who claimed to suffer the same thing I did, as there are for virtually any condition, imagined or real, on the internet. Hooray!
Admittedly, some of their cases were a bit more serious than mine. One confessed to crying whenever he turned the radio on. Naturally, no one in the pages of comments that followed suggested that he just don't turn the radio on. Huh. There was also a forum that simply asked: "Do you cry really easily?" to which people replied: "Yes, I do."
Thanks guys, super helpful!
But I did find my solution. Someone posted that it is impossible to cry if you tickle the roof of your mouth with your tongue, and it actually works. Anyway, I managed to talk to my father about getting married without dissolving, so hooray for me.
26 May 2010
New template!
Oh I love this template, it is so pretty! The flipside is that it's not made by me. Pooh.
11 May 2010
Desktop Makeover
I have had my MacBook since 2006, and when I buy something I really like, I make plans. Wise plans. Super plans. Do I actually carry out any of these plans, you ask scathingly? Uh, no. The joy is in the planning, duh.
Anyway, my plans for the MacBook included:
1. Knitting a grey and red cover to protect it from scratches.
This was part of the Knitting Adventure of Glory Mel and I embarked on, in which Mel set out to make a scarf and made a blanket, and I set out to make a laptop cover and made -- something, uh, secret, that you're not allowed to know about.
2. Buying a grey cover and embroidering a design in red on it.
Cover bought. Cover still grey.
3. Sewing buttons all over the grey cover.
I did manage to collect all the buttons ready to sew. They're rattling around in one of my bags.
4. Covering the facade of the MacBook with a collage of magazines clippings and stickers.
After nearly four years, I stuck one sticker on this week: progress! The rest of the clippings and things I cut out are having a PARTAY somewhere with the buttons.
But this week everything changed, because I rediscovered the joy of icons. And now my desktop is an assortment of Lord of the Rings, Star Wars and some other nice things courtesy of PixelGirl Presents.
The whole desktop. That picture in the center is actually a painting, by the way.
The LOTR icon set are so beautifully intricate. I love the lembas bread. What's that? Of course it makes sense to use it for "projects"! Sam had to ration the lembas bread very carefully otherwise they'd starve and the quest would fail, dooming Middle Earth forever! - TELL ME THAT'S NOT A PROJECT.
I love icons, although somehow forgot about them since primary school, where I changed my animated mouse and desktop icons on a weekly basis, until my computer crashed. The two events were, of course, unrelated.
Anyway, my plans for the MacBook included:
1. Knitting a grey and red cover to protect it from scratches.
This was part of the Knitting Adventure of Glory Mel and I embarked on, in which Mel set out to make a scarf and made a blanket, and I set out to make a laptop cover and made -- something, uh, secret, that you're not allowed to know about.
2. Buying a grey cover and embroidering a design in red on it.
Cover bought. Cover still grey.
3. Sewing buttons all over the grey cover.
I did manage to collect all the buttons ready to sew. They're rattling around in one of my bags.
4. Covering the facade of the MacBook with a collage of magazines clippings and stickers.
After nearly four years, I stuck one sticker on this week: progress! The rest of the clippings and things I cut out are having a PARTAY somewhere with the buttons.
But this week everything changed, because I rediscovered the joy of icons. And now my desktop is an assortment of Lord of the Rings, Star Wars and some other nice things courtesy of PixelGirl Presents.
The whole desktop. That picture in the center is actually a painting, by the way.
The LOTR icon set are so beautifully intricate. I love the lembas bread. What's that? Of course it makes sense to use it for "projects"! Sam had to ration the lembas bread very carefully otherwise they'd starve and the quest would fail, dooming Middle Earth forever! - TELL ME THAT'S NOT A PROJECT.I love icons, although somehow forgot about them since primary school, where I changed my animated mouse and desktop icons on a weekly basis, until my computer crashed. The two events were, of course, unrelated.
30 March 2010
Where topics change at the speed of light.
Is there a way to block people on facebook without removing them as friends? This question could also be asked as, Why would I want to stay friends with someone whose unfailingly regular status updates I cannot bear to look at anymore?
I am considering pulling an MDB and taking everyone except the people I actually talk to regularly off my Facebook account, but the part of me that accounts for the millions of things I have hoarded away in my room "in case of emergency!!!" will not let me. What if I wake up one day and just really need to talk to the person who made my life miserable in primary school? What if Hiro Nakamura visits me in the MRT and tells me I need to save the cheerleader, save the world? How could I explain to him that I deleted the cheerleader off my Facebook account, and don't have her mobile number or email? See? That excuse sounds way lame even to me.
I cannot tell you how much Les laughed when he found out that the number one thing I do online when I just want to chill out is to watch the videos at momversation.com.
I'm sorry! I know I don't have a child. I am a wicked, wicked pretender. I just have not been able to find another place where there are sensible women who talk about sensible things, and where you get to hear many sides to the same issue, rather than ranting or endlessly flaming each other. I mean, the most visited local blog when I was in JC was probably Xia Xue. Point for me.
(And I cannot understand that, or girls who don't leave the house without wearing three layers of make up, or girls who surreptitiously untag all the unglam pictures of themselves on facebook. Sooner or later, Lady, someone is going to figure out what you really look like, and it will be so much worse for you on that day.)
PEOPLE, RICKY MARTIN HAS A BLOG.
I know. I am very excited too. And let me tell you that the excitement you're feeling right now totally, totally pays off. An excerpt, if you will:
[[Many people told me: "Ricky it's not important", "it's not worth it", "all the years you've worked and everything you've built will collapse", "many people in the world are not ready to accept your truth, your reality, your nature".
...
If someone asked me today, "Ricky, what are you afraid of?" I would answer "the blood that runs through the streets of countries at war..."]]
(from here.)
Oh man, I really REALLY need to meet this man. Not Ricky Martin, but Ricky Martin's friend who says things like "your truth, your reality, your nature." I feel like he would understand my soul, and we could cry together while "Friends Are Friends Forever" by Michael W. Smith played in the background. Or "That's What Friends Are For", that would work too.
Unless he lived in a country at war, because, don't you know! There's blood running down the streets over there! Running! Down! The Streets! And I'm just not emotionally prepared for something like that, you know what I'm saying? Hey, if it's Ricky's worse fear, I think I have a right not to want to go there too.
I am considering pulling an MDB and taking everyone except the people I actually talk to regularly off my Facebook account, but the part of me that accounts for the millions of things I have hoarded away in my room "in case of emergency!!!" will not let me. What if I wake up one day and just really need to talk to the person who made my life miserable in primary school? What if Hiro Nakamura visits me in the MRT and tells me I need to save the cheerleader, save the world? How could I explain to him that I deleted the cheerleader off my Facebook account, and don't have her mobile number or email? See? That excuse sounds way lame even to me.
I cannot tell you how much Les laughed when he found out that the number one thing I do online when I just want to chill out is to watch the videos at momversation.com.
I'm sorry! I know I don't have a child. I am a wicked, wicked pretender. I just have not been able to find another place where there are sensible women who talk about sensible things, and where you get to hear many sides to the same issue, rather than ranting or endlessly flaming each other. I mean, the most visited local blog when I was in JC was probably Xia Xue. Point for me.
(And I cannot understand that, or girls who don't leave the house without wearing three layers of make up, or girls who surreptitiously untag all the unglam pictures of themselves on facebook. Sooner or later, Lady, someone is going to figure out what you really look like, and it will be so much worse for you on that day.)
PEOPLE, RICKY MARTIN HAS A BLOG.
I know. I am very excited too. And let me tell you that the excitement you're feeling right now totally, totally pays off. An excerpt, if you will:
[[Many people told me: "Ricky it's not important", "it's not worth it", "all the years you've worked and everything you've built will collapse", "many people in the world are not ready to accept your truth, your reality, your nature".
...
If someone asked me today, "Ricky, what are you afraid of?" I would answer "the blood that runs through the streets of countries at war..."]]
(from here.)
Oh man, I really REALLY need to meet this man. Not Ricky Martin, but Ricky Martin's friend who says things like "your truth, your reality, your nature." I feel like he would understand my soul, and we could cry together while "Friends Are Friends Forever" by Michael W. Smith played in the background. Or "That's What Friends Are For", that would work too.
Unless he lived in a country at war, because, don't you know! There's blood running down the streets over there! Running! Down! The Streets! And I'm just not emotionally prepared for something like that, you know what I'm saying? Hey, if it's Ricky's worse fear, I think I have a right not to want to go there too.
27 March 2010
Hello, resident!
Am very in love with the fact that my boyfriend's idea of being inconspicuous to sneak in past condo security guards is to chant "I LIVE HERE! I LIVE HERE!" accompanied by a very bizarre "resident" march.
(He was joking, I think, but it was still unbelievably funny. A catch if there ever was one; there's no explaining attraction.)
(In case anyone's interested, true "resident"-s march like the love-children of professional walkers and the Red Army.)
(He was joking, I think, but it was still unbelievably funny. A catch if there ever was one; there's no explaining attraction.)
(In case anyone's interested, true "resident"-s march like the love-children of professional walkers and the Red Army.)
19 March 2010
Deciding what to do with our Friday night.
Claire: What about District 9?
Holly: What's it about?
Claire: Reads off imdb "An extraterrestrial race forced to live in slum-like conditions on Earth suddenly finds a kindred spirit in a government agent who is exposed to their biotechnology."
Pause.
Holly: It doesn't sound very interesting.
Claire: But it was nominated for Best Oscar!
Holly: ... where all the directors forget about making good movies and instead polish their statuettes to be the shiniest of all?
Holly: What's it about?
Claire: Reads off imdb "An extraterrestrial race forced to live in slum-like conditions on Earth suddenly finds a kindred spirit in a government agent who is exposed to their biotechnology."
Pause.
Holly: It doesn't sound very interesting.
Claire: But it was nominated for Best Oscar!
Holly: ... where all the directors forget about making good movies and instead polish their statuettes to be the shiniest of all?
18 March 2010
The TV issue.
Somehow, I'm still watching Lost. And it's true what they say; it gets better. (It gets a lot worse first, though. You might want to skip the whole of the beginning of the third season.) The scriptwriters are getting pretty good at making us believe these people were really ballerinas and con men and doctors before they crashed on the island, but really, we know where it's at. Yes, Lost scriptwriters, we know you've been lying to us. It was a plane full of models that crashed on that island. And Hurley was the pilot.
(Afterthought: This theory also explains how, despite the fact that they're all supposed to be wearing clothes taken off dead bodies and what not, they always look FABULOUS. Because they know how to choose the right dead-people-clothes for their figure and complexion. Good job, models!
Further afterthought: Actually, there's another explanation: Lost is an American TV show. The end.)
By the way, at this moment, there are three groups of people huddled around three computers watching different seasons of Lost. I love my job.
Besides Lost, I've only been watching a little bit of American Idol. Has anybody been watching American Idol? Can anybody explain to me why the contestants feel the need to whip out a guitar for every little thing? Other than proving that Americans can sing and play guitar at the same time. How very wonderful for you all. (Also, as the seasons progress, the whipping-out-guitar-thing gets faster and furious-er.) I don't think anyone really jumps out at me this season. I still think Adam Lambert was the best thing ever to happen to that show, but now he's kind of prancing around in codpieces, which is, well, see for yourself:
I know.
After reading about the US passing this revolutionary health bill, I've realised that I actually don't have a country to call my own, which is very sad. I have two passports, but because I don't live in either of those countries, I'm not really a citizen, and don't qualify for healthcare, or pension plans or voting. I could go back to those countries, but I don't think I would belong there as much as I feel I belong in Singapore, with friends and family and food (oh, the food.) At the same time, I don't think I would ever give those passports up for Singapore citizenship - it feels too much like closing off those options forever, and I don't think I could bear it.
The working definition of having a government seems to be having someone you can blame for everything wrong with your country, but I think it's nice to feel that, at the end of the day, they are kind of looking out for you, you know, with various complicated scheme things that I am not eligible for.
But really, guys, let's face it: there's only one reason you've all been just hanging around reading this, and it's not for my charming conversation. And by guys I mean Mel Wu.
So without further ado, let me announce the winner of Claire's Favourite Lost Character.
Vincent. I LOVE Vincent. Nothing dramatic ever happens to him, he just has a ball of a time on that island. He's always running around, looking happy and barking at things. And he loves everyone, even though they're always abandoning him or passing him off to be looked after by someone else while they escape or have love lives or die. Every time I see him I feel happy, and that's probably his purpose, because everything else goes wrong on Lost except Vincent. Vincent should have his own show. It would be called Lost and Lovin' it! or, you know, something else, because that name sounds bad.
(Afterthought: This theory also explains how, despite the fact that they're all supposed to be wearing clothes taken off dead bodies and what not, they always look FABULOUS. Because they know how to choose the right dead-people-clothes for their figure and complexion. Good job, models!
Further afterthought: Actually, there's another explanation: Lost is an American TV show. The end.)
By the way, at this moment, there are three groups of people huddled around three computers watching different seasons of Lost. I love my job.
Besides Lost, I've only been watching a little bit of American Idol. Has anybody been watching American Idol? Can anybody explain to me why the contestants feel the need to whip out a guitar for every little thing? Other than proving that Americans can sing and play guitar at the same time. How very wonderful for you all. (Also, as the seasons progress, the whipping-out-guitar-thing gets faster and furious-er.) I don't think anyone really jumps out at me this season. I still think Adam Lambert was the best thing ever to happen to that show, but now he's kind of prancing around in codpieces, which is, well, see for yourself:
I know.After reading about the US passing this revolutionary health bill, I've realised that I actually don't have a country to call my own, which is very sad. I have two passports, but because I don't live in either of those countries, I'm not really a citizen, and don't qualify for healthcare, or pension plans or voting. I could go back to those countries, but I don't think I would belong there as much as I feel I belong in Singapore, with friends and family and food (oh, the food.) At the same time, I don't think I would ever give those passports up for Singapore citizenship - it feels too much like closing off those options forever, and I don't think I could bear it.
The working definition of having a government seems to be having someone you can blame for everything wrong with your country, but I think it's nice to feel that, at the end of the day, they are kind of looking out for you, you know, with various complicated scheme things that I am not eligible for.
But really, guys, let's face it: there's only one reason you've all been just hanging around reading this, and it's not for my charming conversation. And by guys I mean Mel Wu.
So without further ado, let me announce the winner of Claire's Favourite Lost Character.
Vincent. I LOVE Vincent. Nothing dramatic ever happens to him, he just has a ball of a time on that island. He's always running around, looking happy and barking at things. And he loves everyone, even though they're always abandoning him or passing him off to be looked after by someone else while they escape or have love lives or die. Every time I see him I feel happy, and that's probably his purpose, because everything else goes wrong on Lost except Vincent. Vincent should have his own show. It would be called Lost and Lovin' it! or, you know, something else, because that name sounds bad.
17 March 2010
If fainting is a possible after-effect of donating blood, why do you have to hike up and down a hill to get to the bloodbank?
I just printed out three copies of the Thai, Bangladeshi and Tamil scripts for a voiceover recording later: one for me, one for the talent, and one for the recording technician. I collated them and stapled them, all ready to go, then realised that neither the recording tech nor I understand Thai, Bangladeshi or Tamil. Way to waste paper and ink, Claire!
25 February 2010
"That's not just a bear... (ENDLESS PAUSE) ... that's a polar bear."
A guy in my office has been telling me to WATCH LOST because the rest of the office are all apparently dying of the awesomeness of season 6. So I got Season 1-5 from Lynn and am slowly trying to catch up. I've watched Lost before, and really liked Season 1, and then Season 2 was alright, but by Season 3 it was kind of TELL ME WHAT'S HAPPENING ALREADY. The new intrigues being introduced seemed to be in the hundreds but the answers were zero. It sucked.
Anyway, I'm giving it a second chance. Although halfway through episode 1 I realise: This is the series that made me terrified of flying, a horror that I've been trying to overcome since I first watched it and, oh dear, I am watching it again. The plane is being torn apart and people are screaming and dying and falling and my April Phuket trip suddenly seems like a death trap.
Anyway, I'm giving it a second chance. Although halfway through episode 1 I realise: This is the series that made me terrified of flying, a horror that I've been trying to overcome since I first watched it and, oh dear, I am watching it again. The plane is being torn apart and people are screaming and dying and falling and my April Phuket trip suddenly seems like a death trap.
18 August 2009
while inventing Harry Potter monopoly with Holly...
Holly: What about Platform 9 3/4s?
Me: We can use it as the transport space! No wait, let's use the Hogwarts Express!
Holly: Okay! *starts writing
Me: Hogwarts Express, the Firebolt, the Ford Anglia... and what else?
Holly: Evaporation!
Me: We can use it as the transport space! No wait, let's use the Hogwarts Express!
Holly: Okay! *starts writing
Me: Hogwarts Express, the Firebolt, the Ford Anglia... and what else?
Holly: Evaporation!
13 August 2009
prawns!
I love this video, so much. It is my shining light in times of woe!
I know my shining light should be more mature things like, er, maybe God? or Les? or ice cream? But no, it is this video, because it's 1.28am, and I so wanted to be asleep four hours ago.
I know my shining light should be more mature things like, er, maybe God? or Les? or ice cream? But no, it is this video, because it's 1.28am, and I so wanted to be asleep four hours ago.
26 June 2009
FINE.
Okay, I have promised a few people that I will try to write something and so I shall, just so the next time you check this website when you're dead bored and desperate for excitement, I will be able to say IN YOUR FACE.
*Happily watches Project Runway for the next hour.
Hooray for pretty dresses! Okay. Project Runway always makes me want to rush out and start sewing, just as, I suppose, Next Top Model makes me want to rush out and start exercising, and The Bachelor makes me want to rush out full stop. But really, about the sewing, does anyone know how to sew well? Or do you know anyone else who knows how to sew well? Because I want to be taught, you know, having so much free time to boast what with 4 part time jobs and school and piano and driving.
I wonder if it really is possible to achieve everything you could possible want to achieve. I think not, really, although I have achieved many things I used to think would never happen, like sitting at Les' place writing in my journal while he composed music in the next room, and actually making good money for writing. If you do read this, dear friend several months away, please comment and tell me 5 things you'd like to achieve by the end of your life, and then maybe call me and offer to buy me lunch. That would be nice.
I would like to be able to 1) play music in front of other people without having a nervous breakdown, 2) have one boy and one girl child without having to have 10 boys in a row first, 3) sew my own clothes, 4) live in a house overlooking many, many trees, and 5) er, play golf well? Not sure about 5.
My mum keeps asking questions out loud to people, and I keep thinking she means me, only to find that she's talking to someone else. It's very off-putting and embarrassing, considering I always respond like so:
Mum: Hey, you want some bread?
Me :YES!
Holly: She was talking to me.
Mum: Hey, you want some apple -
Me: YES!
Mum: - Holly?
Mum: Hey, you want some dessert?
Me: YES, DAMNIT!
Mum: *Continues looking at Papa expectantly.
I am sensing a pattern!
*Happily watches Project Runway for the next hour.
Hooray for pretty dresses! Okay. Project Runway always makes me want to rush out and start sewing, just as, I suppose, Next Top Model makes me want to rush out and start exercising, and The Bachelor makes me want to rush out full stop. But really, about the sewing, does anyone know how to sew well? Or do you know anyone else who knows how to sew well? Because I want to be taught, you know, having so much free time to boast what with 4 part time jobs and school and piano and driving.
I wonder if it really is possible to achieve everything you could possible want to achieve. I think not, really, although I have achieved many things I used to think would never happen, like sitting at Les' place writing in my journal while he composed music in the next room, and actually making good money for writing. If you do read this, dear friend several months away, please comment and tell me 5 things you'd like to achieve by the end of your life, and then maybe call me and offer to buy me lunch. That would be nice.
I would like to be able to 1) play music in front of other people without having a nervous breakdown, 2) have one boy and one girl child without having to have 10 boys in a row first, 3) sew my own clothes, 4) live in a house overlooking many, many trees, and 5) er, play golf well? Not sure about 5.
My mum keeps asking questions out loud to people, and I keep thinking she means me, only to find that she's talking to someone else. It's very off-putting and embarrassing, considering I always respond like so:
I am sensing a pattern!
15 July 2008
My Harvest Moon farm is now called Highbury.
"This had just taken place and with great cordiality, when John Knightley made his appearance, and "How d'ye do, George?" and "John, how are you?" succeeded in the true English style, burying under a calmness that seemed all but indifference, the real attachment which would have led either of them, if requisite, to do every thing for the good of the other."
"Mr. Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile; and succeeded without difficulty, upon Mrs. Elton's beginning to talk to him."
... Jane Austen, Emma
It has taken me a while to get into Emma - everyone in the book is so annoying, except for Mrs. Weston, and Mr. Knightley, whom I suspect will turn out to be Emma's Darcy. I love Mr. Knightley, and would not wish that fate upon him, but oh well; I still have 150 pages or so more to pull a "if you're happy I'm happy".
Miffy has left her childhood behind and flying back-kicked into the next phase of her life, in which she eats everything. Her especial favourite is stickers, which she amazingly peels off any surface, but she is not adverse clothes, or magazines, or the occasional stray kotex wrapping. I don't really know that she's adverse to anything, but one can only hope.
"Mr. Knightley seemed to be trying not to smile; and succeeded without difficulty, upon Mrs. Elton's beginning to talk to him."
... Jane Austen, Emma
It has taken me a while to get into Emma - everyone in the book is so annoying, except for Mrs. Weston, and Mr. Knightley, whom I suspect will turn out to be Emma's Darcy. I love Mr. Knightley, and would not wish that fate upon him, but oh well; I still have 150 pages or so more to pull a "if you're happy I'm happy".
Miffy has left her childhood behind and flying back-kicked into the next phase of her life, in which she eats everything. Her especial favourite is stickers, which she amazingly peels off any surface, but she is not adverse clothes, or magazines, or the occasional stray kotex wrapping. I don't really know that she's adverse to anything, but one can only hope.
13 July 2008
While Miffy eats all that I love and cherish
If you listen very carefully, you can hear the swan song of my bank account.
22 April 2008
Miffy, food!
I really have to come up with a new layout.
Harry Potter Deathly Hallows will be two movies! Yayyyy! I wish they'd show them one after the other, like a 6 hour extravaganza with an interval in the middle. Awesome! Sadly, it's going to be a 6 month interval, while I vent my frustration by buying Miffy a whole new bunch of stuff! STUFF! I love stuff. My mum, sadly, is very anti-stuff, and says if I buy Miff any more stuff we'll have to move house.
I'd really like a 'Snape is Good' badge ):
Miffy at food time (and the new command I'm trying to teach her). That's Mugglecast in the background, with the weird rock version of the movie theme. For some reason she always dashes to me if I'm photographing or filming her. Sorry for the quality and for me forgetting which camera angle I started with.
Miffy, Food! from Claire Matthews on Vimeo.
Harry Potter Deathly Hallows will be two movies! Yayyyy! I wish they'd show them one after the other, like a 6 hour extravaganza with an interval in the middle. Awesome! Sadly, it's going to be a 6 month interval, while I vent my frustration by buying Miffy a whole new bunch of stuff! STUFF! I love stuff. My mum, sadly, is very anti-stuff, and says if I buy Miff any more stuff we'll have to move house.
I'd really like a 'Snape is Good' badge ):
Miffy at food time (and the new command I'm trying to teach her). That's Mugglecast in the background, with the weird rock version of the movie theme. For some reason she always dashes to me if I'm photographing or filming her. Sorry for the quality and for me forgetting which camera angle I started with.
Miffy, Food! from Claire Matthews on Vimeo.
18 April 2008
And Miffy tries to eat my toes for the ten thousandth time.
Well, I weighed myself today.
So is being fat really the worst thing a person can be? Is it worse than being selfish, or a murderer? Part of my mind is desperately repeating this wonderful thing JK Rowling said, but then again, this is also the part that likes to eat very, very much. And I do believe there are many many more terrible things than being fat, but I think 5kilos in about 6months means it's time to start running, Claire, and you better be running further than the bus stop.
Happily, tragically, after learning of this new me, the me that, thanks to her love of CAKE and POLYSATURATED FAT can no longer fantasise about being a dancer or a wrestler, or whatever profession it is that requires you being lifted at some point by another human being, as opposed to being lifted by the crane that built the Singapore Flyer, this new me decided a pint of durian ice cream is a terrible thing to waste. A mind is a terrible thing to waste too, as is half a comprehensive wardrobe that no longer fits, but these things weren't in the fridge tonight, so they will have to wait their turn.
Man... this really sucks!
So is being fat really the worst thing a person can be? Is it worse than being selfish, or a murderer? Part of my mind is desperately repeating this wonderful thing JK Rowling said, but then again, this is also the part that likes to eat very, very much. And I do believe there are many many more terrible things than being fat, but I think 5kilos in about 6months means it's time to start running, Claire, and you better be running further than the bus stop.
Happily, tragically, after learning of this new me, the me that, thanks to her love of CAKE and POLYSATURATED FAT can no longer fantasise about being a dancer or a wrestler, or whatever profession it is that requires you being lifted at some point by another human being, as opposed to being lifted by the crane that built the Singapore Flyer, this new me decided a pint of durian ice cream is a terrible thing to waste. A mind is a terrible thing to waste too, as is half a comprehensive wardrobe that no longer fits, but these things weren't in the fridge tonight, so they will have to wait their turn.
Man... this really sucks!