A little perspective.

I've been feeling a little bit sorry for myself this weekend. I'm just really, really bored of being on antibiotics. I'm really bored of waking up at 3am because the pain is unbearable. I'm really quite fed up of barely being able to walk ten steps without feeling like I'm about to pass out. It's been going on for so long now and it's just driving me crazy. It doesn't help that I'm becoming a regular fixture at my doctor's surgery and the doctors like to look at me like I'm a silly little girl because I got medications mixed up and ended up feeling ten times worse. Such an idiot. But an easy mistake to make. I suppose. I'm not too sure. I just want to be able to sleep for longer than an hour at a time. I want to have a normal body temperature. I want to be able to go and spend time with my friends. If you can't tell, I've been doing a lot of moaning lately. But sort of snapped myself out of it this morning, waiting for yet another doctor's appointment (I definitely think they should introduce a loyalty card of some type there. Free prescription after six visits? I'd be rolling in free prescriptions by now. But, alas, a loyalty card is apparently not appropriate for a doctors' surgery, no matter how many times I offered plausible ideas)

The 'Frankenstorm' hitting the East Coast of the States really snapped me out of my miserableness this morning. I'm struggling to comprehend just how big the damn thing is. It seems so unreal and yet, scarily, it's happening. At this very moment, it's happening. And it's scary in so many ways. It's scary because it shows how powerful nature is, how easily it can completely destroy our pretty little cities and towns. It's scary because it shows the complete lack of respect most people have for the planet. It's scary how many people still don't believe in global warming. It's scary because - bizarrely - my main readership is the US, and I worry how many of you are caught up in it. I worry how many of you have had to evacuate your homes and face losing everything you hold dear to you. I worry that families will be torn apart and destroyed. I'm scared because me and Lurch both have friends and family on the East Coast (Boston, Queens, Rhode Island) and we haven't been able to get in touch with them yet. I'm worried that New York, the place I've considered my spiritual home since the age of two, is about to be completely annihilated. It's a horrible, awful, scary time.

I've been far too self-absorbed over the past few days. Yes, it sucks to be ill and when you're in that moment it feels like literally nothing else on this planet matters, but it pales in significance when I compare it to Hurricane Sandy. I pale in comparison to Hurricane Sandy. We all do. Mother Nature is so fearsome and powerful. It's honestly incredibly worrying.

To all my East Coast friends, families, readers and occasional emailers... I hope you are staying safe and I'm praying for minimal damage to your homes and your lives. See you on the other side!

Life lately

Nothing delights me more than getting into clean, fresh, brand new bedsheets. This week saw the purchasing of outrageously bright bedsheets that Mr Valentine has described as "blindingly bright." I'm inclined to agree with him - they're way too bright for my delicate little eyes - but I shall never let him know this. It hasn't all been shockingly bright in my life this week: London has decided to shroud itself in possibly the gloomiest fog imaginable. Normally, I get a fairly decent view of The Shard (the Ugliest Building In The World) from the roof at work yet I haven't been able to see it at all this week. Blessing or curse?

I've been enjoying the simple pleasures lately: the most beautiful scented candles I've ever discovered, a whole heap of books, and a Winnie The Pooh thermal cup that only cost £1! I decided to re-read The Perks Of Being A Wallflower because of the film adaptation and forgot how good it really is. A book that's not so good is Cheryl Cole's autobiography. Yes, it's probably been ghost-written, but it's just so gloomy, much like London's skies recently. For a woman who has so much money and fame, she don't half know how to be miserable. A laugh/joke/smile wouldn't kill the woman. Maybe the Girls Aloud reunion will do her some good?

Oh, and Daisy (my mum, really) got a puppy! He's so lively... literally like Daisy in dog form! They've been inseparable since the moment they laid eyes on each other. I thought Daisy was exhausting on her own, especially now that she's beginning to ponder the possibility of walking. But her and the dog together? Migraine central!

I've been planning some themed posts for the next few months. I'll obviously be doing some insanely Christmas-y posts (as readers of the old blog will now, I'm ever so slightly obsessed with the most wonderful time of the year) and a post (or eight) about Hanukkah, but I'm open to suggestions! I like the idea of themed posts and the like the idea of variety so I look forward to seeing what this venture brings!

Lucky...

So...

There's not much purpose to this post, except that I love this photo of me and my Valentine. 

It's currently decorating the edge of my mirror, along with a few other photos of us.

It was taken on New Year's Eve last year as we stood freezing on Westminster Bridge waiting for the fireworks. We'd spent a good twenty minutes talking to a family of American tourists who were absolutely amazed by how happy everyone seemed that night. Our friends, who are infinitely cooler than us, turned down our pleas to stand next to the London Eye for seven hours and went off to some swanky West End club instead. But I'm glad... we got to take so many silly photos of the two of us and started a Thriller sing-a-long.

It's only October, but this photo has made me so excited for Christmas already. My lists are written, recipes have been remembered, and I'm discovering loads of weird foreign stuff for my weird foreign Grandad.

My Grandad really is the greatest man on Earth.

I love my Valentine and my family. And memories.

Je veux vivre à Paris

I'm not sure when or how it started.

It might have been when I was two, and watched Beauty and the Beast for the first time.

It might have been when I was three, and started ballet.

It might have been when I was five, and started learning the French language.

It might have been when I was eight, and my grandad would tell me stories about his experiences in the smallest towns and villages there.

It might have been when I was eleven, and had to research the history of the country for a homework assignment.

I can't pinpoint the exact time. I don't think there was ever a "moment" where I just decided it had to be. It's probably something that's always been with me, like my stubbornly frizzy hair or multi-coloured eyes. Because, truthfully, for as long as I can remember, Paris has been the biggest mystery for me.

I've never visited Paris, which is bordering on criminal seeing as it would take approximately three hours to get there from my house. My sister has been, and enthralled me with her tales of the majestic Happy Meals they serve up at the closest McDonald's to the Louvre. 

I have big ambitions in life, and have a list of five cities that I would kill to live in, in addition to a list of ideal holiday destinations that is growing by the day.

I will get to Paris one day soon. Life has happened, and I'll probably never live there. But I know that I will spend a sizeable chunk of time there. I just haven't figured out when.

So, until then, I will continue to stare at photos of the Eiffel Tower. I will continue to take Google StreetView tours of the City of Love. I will continue dreaming.

Because, if we don't dream... What's the point of life?

Sunshine and Showers Part 2

But, there are a few good points about this horrendous week. And they are, in no particular order:

Reading
I've done so much reading this week. Five books this week, including Caitlin Moran's How To Be A Woman, Caitlin Moran's Moranthology (yes, I'm obsessed), and J.K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy. First things first: Caitlin Moran is pretty much a God. The woman knows women like no other woman I've ever come across. Her How To Be A Woman made me laugh hard, and made me well up a bit. It truly is an amazing book and everyone - women, men, girls, boys, chimpanzees - should read it. It is legitimately that good.

The Casual Vacancy, however, bored me so much I thought it would be thing that finally ended my life. Harry Potter was a gigantic part of my childhood (90s child cliché) and I had such high expectations that J.K. Rowling would continue to be a part of my adult life. Oh, how wrong I was. It's not that the book was bad - it could have been a great story - it's just that it was so dull. And so forced. We get it, Jo, you're writing for grown ups now, but the vulgarity and sweary bits felt so forced. This Potterhead thinks that if the manuscript had been sent anonymously to publishers then it would've been promptly sent back (provided she had included a stamped, self addressed envelope in the mailing). Such a disappointment.

Writing
So, as I said, I had some bullying happen to me on the internet this week. It got my close family all up in arms and had me seriously questioning how certain people managed to even enter my life, never mind remain in it long enough to gang up on me like a pack of feral ferrets. But after letting them air their sordid views, I promptly blocked them, alerted them that one more mention of me on their Timelines would force me to involve the police, and got about with my life.

The feral ferrets (I might trademark that) did not completely ruin my week. Quite the contrary... They've inspired me. I'll be taking part in NaNoWriMo this year, but I'm also doing an October version. Yep, two novels before December 1st. And the feral ferrets have literally written the nasties in both novels. So much inspirations, so much material to use. Talk about making the best out of an awful situation!

Sleeping
An anaemic person is naturally tired. An anaemic person who works is so tired they've almost mastered the art of sleeping with their eyes open, typing away into Google and answering phone calls. An anaemic insomniac just doesn't understand the concept of sleep. This anaemic insomniac has been a little bit under the weather this week and has done so much sleeping. I don't think I've slept this much since I was evicted from my mother's womb. It's a revelation and I quite like it. Yes, I'm still tired, but I feel oh so refreshed. I never knew sleep was so good. I shall definitely pencil in more sleeping time throughout the rest of the year.

Spark and Mettle

I had my first Spark and Mettle Star Track hangout last night. It was amazing. I did, however, spend far too much time talking about gold stars and Blue Peter badges, and had to momentarily bail out of the hangout to rescue my slightly suicidal cat, but overall I got a good vibe from it. I really am looking forward to the next six months of the programme. It feels like it's going to be (wait for it) awesome!

So that, my friends, is why I have been absent of late. I apologise. I shall scold myself if I ever refrain from posting again.

How have your weeks been?!

Sunshine and Showers Part 1

This week has just been utter chaos for me. But not chaos in a good way. More like "Oh my God this is where I die. Please, my minions, prepare my funeral for me whilst I get busy drafting up my eulogy." Melodramatic? Well, of course. But what would life be without a bit of exaggerated drama? I'll tell you what - boring. It would be boring as hell. And if there's one thing I don't like, it's boredom. So it pains me to say that I have been incredibly bored this week.

It all started on Monday (it actually started last week but it wasn't particularly noticeable then so we'll just fast forward to when it all really kicked in. Which would be Monday) when I thought I had succumb to that annual nastiness known as The Flu (TM). Muscles aching, neck swollen, slight temperature, the works. I travelled to work hating myself for not having had the flu jab yet, and spent my journey from work, well, passing out. And on this point, let me state that commuters are mean. A 21-year-old girl literally passes out on a bus and not one person said a thing. When did we get to a point in this country where people became so self-absorbed that they genuinely don't care one iota about someone else's well being? Commuters make me sick.

So, I stumbled off of the bus and stumbled my way home where I fell into bed and thought that was that. An early night would do me good, right? WRONG. I woke up in all kinds of messed up, genuinely fearing that if I dared to open my mouth it would be my last breath. It wasn't. I was dragged to the doctor by Lurch, who then sent me to A&E where I waited for six hours (SIX HOURS!) to be given a diagnosis. Kidney infection.

I don't know how many of you have had kidney infections, and if you've had one you'll truly recognise what I'm about to say here: Kidney infections hurt like hell. I have never known pain like it in my life. And I never wish to know pain like it again. So, like a good little pill popper, I've been downing the antibiotics, and painkillers, and drinking so much water it feels like my bladder is Little Niagra Falls. It's a nightmare.

Oh, and then I had some bullying at me on the internet. Jeez, those guys suck.