How's THAT for creative writing??
shame it was drawn during a lecture on John Dunne.
he's a boring bugger though, and robots and flamingos couldn't be boring if they tried,
let's face it.
xXx
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
"lectures are educational and essential in the furthering of your career as a" "zzzzz SHUT UP THEY'RE BORING"
How's THAT for creative writing??
shame it was drawn during a lecture on John Dunne.
he's a boring bugger though, and robots and flamingos couldn't be boring if they tried,
let's face it.
xXx
Monday, 1 February 2010
Cold
The only way I know my mouth is open
is from the damp silver that reaches up,
from behind my tongue and teeth,
and waves a wispy hand ahead of me, an icy fog.
However, the chill has helped me to forget my features,
one by one brushed away by the winters wind-
a side effect of the bitterness of an unwell mother nature.
My eyelashes begin feeling like they’ve fallen victim,
to the almost arctic nature of the road I walk,
and now reside at the bottom of my lenses that frame my face,
but do nothing to protect me from the pinching breeze-
my cheeks are crimson with the weathers’ effort to leave me cold.
Four layers later with a hot cup of tea,
no longer walking; sitting, resting, whiling away the hours
with company in the form of mediocre re-runs
(Familiarity being a necessity in the act of keeping warm)
and cover in the shape of 3 pairs of socks.
Heating throbbing from walls and carpet,
clinging to the warped rubber of a smouldering water bottle,
as if it was something to have and to hold.
I’m still cold.
is from the damp silver that reaches up,
from behind my tongue and teeth,
and waves a wispy hand ahead of me, an icy fog.
However, the chill has helped me to forget my features,
one by one brushed away by the winters wind-
a side effect of the bitterness of an unwell mother nature.
My eyelashes begin feeling like they’ve fallen victim,
to the almost arctic nature of the road I walk,
and now reside at the bottom of my lenses that frame my face,
but do nothing to protect me from the pinching breeze-
my cheeks are crimson with the weathers’ effort to leave me cold.
Four layers later with a hot cup of tea,
no longer walking; sitting, resting, whiling away the hours
with company in the form of mediocre re-runs
(Familiarity being a necessity in the act of keeping warm)
and cover in the shape of 3 pairs of socks.
Heating throbbing from walls and carpet,
clinging to the warped rubber of a smouldering water bottle,
as if it was something to have and to hold.
I’m still cold.
xXx
Sunday, 31 January 2010
B.A.S (Brassiere Appreciation Society)
After a random afternoon nap i decided to kick-start my imagination by going for a brisk wander in the chilly twilight of Canters Barry. I left a note for Laura, put on a million layers including my Kent hoodie and set off down the road behind my house towards the massive playing field- after crossing the main road i realised something didn't feel quite right; i was walking along and i just felt kinda funny, like something was missing...
And something was. because i had forgotten to put my bra back on after my nap.
Now, as cool kid as this makes me sound- and let's face it, it does(n't)- i wouldn't normally admit to doing something like this on something as public as my blog, which is read by countless (read no) people, including my parents. However i feel the desperate urge to shout from the rooftops my new found respect for my bra.
See, i've always been slightly annoyed by them. they cost a hell of a lot of money (for someone with no money this is an issue) and i always accidentally ping my strap and smack myself with it, which whilst hilarious to the outside world is actually quite a painful experience. However, after having to use my arms as a kind of improvised bra whilst walking around today i totally respect and love all of my bras. After about 30 minutes my arms were CANING and my back really really hurt. when i got in i put my bra back on and it was almost like instant gratification in that my back stopped hurting and my arms were freed from their position as impromptu shelving. The actual structural design of a bra is far more complicated than i anticipated and i realised that i need to start appreciating my over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder for what it is- ABSOLUTELY GENIUS.
So thank you, bras. You make my world a more thoroughly and efficiently supported place.
xxx
And something was. because i had forgotten to put my bra back on after my nap.
Now, as cool kid as this makes me sound- and let's face it, it does(n't)- i wouldn't normally admit to doing something like this on something as public as my blog, which is read by countless (read no) people, including my parents. However i feel the desperate urge to shout from the rooftops my new found respect for my bra.
See, i've always been slightly annoyed by them. they cost a hell of a lot of money (for someone with no money this is an issue) and i always accidentally ping my strap and smack myself with it, which whilst hilarious to the outside world is actually quite a painful experience. However, after having to use my arms as a kind of improvised bra whilst walking around today i totally respect and love all of my bras. After about 30 minutes my arms were CANING and my back really really hurt. when i got in i put my bra back on and it was almost like instant gratification in that my back stopped hurting and my arms were freed from their position as impromptu shelving. The actual structural design of a bra is far more complicated than i anticipated and i realised that i need to start appreciating my over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder for what it is- ABSOLUTELY GENIUS.
So thank you, bras. You make my world a more thoroughly and efficiently supported place.
xxx
Saturday, 30 January 2010
Grown-Up Behaviour
Halfway through a webcam chat with Ma and she gets a funny look on her face
Me:...So we changed one of the rules to be nominations-
Mum:Amy?
Me:Yeah?
Mum:(pointing)What's that?
Me:(looking about) Wh-what? what's what?
Mum: (pointing more) THAT.
Me: (utterly confused) Ma, i dunno what you're pointing at-
Mum: (raising one eyebrow) Amy, why does it say 'COCK' on your hand?
Me: (looking at hand and stuttering) er- er- i -er, it- er-
Mum: ...Amy?
Me: Itwasn'tmealexdidit!!!
Mum: And why did Alex write 'COCK' on your hand?
Me: (looking sheepish) because i drew a picture of a cat on his and wrote 'OH HAI' next to it.
Mum:...How old are you both, Amy?
Me: I'm nearly 20 and Alex is 21.
Mum: (sighing) I'm so proud you're using your time at university so wisely, Amy.
xXx
Me:...So we changed one of the rules to be nominations-
Mum:Amy?
Me:Yeah?
Mum:(pointing)What's that?
Me:(looking about) Wh-what? what's what?
Mum: (pointing more) THAT.
Me: (utterly confused) Ma, i dunno what you're pointing at-
Mum: (raising one eyebrow) Amy, why does it say 'COCK' on your hand?
Me: (looking at hand and stuttering) er- er- i -er, it- er-Mum: ...Amy?
Me: Itwasn'tmealexdidit!!!
Mum: And why did Alex write 'COCK' on your hand?
Me: (looking sheepish) because i drew a picture of a cat on his and wrote 'OH HAI' next to it.
Mum:...How old are you both, Amy?
Me: I'm nearly 20 and Alex is 21.
Mum: (sighing) I'm so proud you're using your time at university so wisely, Amy.
xXx
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
Dear Diary...
this new diary thing is exactly what i needed. i know it's the smallest thing, and should be the most insignificant change but then i suppose it's the smaller lines that help shape the bigger picture. I've always kept a diary, since i was around 12- i'm one of those people who can't keep things to herself hence the over-indulging of my ego on blogger, twitter and Youtube. except i have a problem, in that when it comes to the boundaries of keeping things to myself i have none; but there are things i don't feel i could possibly tell anyone, so my outlet becomes the connections my pen and paper make.
The first diary i had was bought in Ipswich on a visit to my friend Gina's Dad's house. her family had invited me for the weekend, and i still remember it to be one of the greatest weekends of my life; We went go-karting; her Dad was an amazing cook; and we spent the majority of the time in their back garden playing with her 6 and 7 year old brothers. but even though there were these big gestures that were amazing there are 2 things that stuck with me, that to some people wouldn't even matter (that's not to say anything against those people- it's just that everyone's life leads them to covet their own things; more often than not the tiniest pleasures are not shared pleasures).
the first was that i had my own room in their house. to them it was just a spare bedroom- but up until the age of 10 i had shared a room with both my younger brother and sister and from then on with my sister and to me the room was incredible. it wasn't big or anything, but it wasn't anyone else's- for those 3 days and 2 nights it was mine. I remember during the night i was scared because it was dark and Gina's family didn't leave a light on like mine do. the room was cold because there was no one else in there and the pillows were misshapen, not like the ones back home that over the years had learnt the curves of my head and the turns i made in my sleep. i woke up hours before anyone and sat, bored because there was no bed opposite mine with anyone to talk to. but it was still perfect.
the second thing was the diary itself. i still have it, under my bed in Beccles, in a small blue, lid-less container with 'Amy's stuff' emblazoned on the side in warn out marker. it's underneath the 5 other diaries that are brimming with my mind, and is by far the prettiest thing i've ever written in. the cover was silk, and had tiny flowers sown into it. when i bought it i was worried what my parents would think of the cost, but Gina said it was my money and i should spend it how i wanted to, so i did. when i got back to hers i copied the lyrics of my favourite song at the time onto the front pages- Muse, 'Time is Running Out'. i then wrote everything we had done that day and then let her read it. she said that it was good but i shouldn't write it like i expect people to read it, i should write it for me. so that night i wrote about how the room was scary and cold, and how Gina's youngest brother was a little annoying and when she asked to read it i said no. she wasn't angry, she understood. and from there on i've kept a diary.
they're all under my bed, the others. i had to be careful what i wrote in them because i knew if my mum found them she'd read them. one of my favourite things to do, whenever i'm at home and feeling low, is to pull out the blue container and rifle through my past at all my crushes and laugh at how even then i managed to write too often about my cats (Franky-you're still my baby man, even now ^^) But when i got to uni i thought 'enough'. enough censoring what i had to say, as long as that book stayed with me at all times at home and i was careful where i left it at uni there was no reason as to why i shouldn't write EXACTLY how i was feeling and everything that happened, good and bad. so i did.
but when i came back to this diary from last term after new years it felt...used. even thought i'd only written around 30 pages it felt like i'd gotten everything out of that diary that i could, so i stopped writing as often. and the less i wrote the more annoyed and frantic i became, having no outlet for how i was feeling and the more things went wrong or upset until there was this awful cycle that resulted in me coming over all emo on twitter. it was horrible! but it wasn't until a bit before coming back to uni i had the epiphany of buying another diary. and by epiphany i mean Kage suggested i do it. so i did.
It's already making a difference. the old diary is still here- it's on my side table underneath Doctor Who series 4, (500) Days of summer and Alex and Ted's Daft Punk masks they left at my house (i blatantly haven't put them on and danced around my room listening to 'Alive' on spotify...except i have and it was so much fun i thought i would wee myself a little bit. i didn't. unlike some people...) . i haven't decided whether or not i will keep it though. for the first time in my almost 8 years of diary infatuation i'm contemplating getting rid of it. there are a lot of things in that diary i would like to forget, and although some things i deserve to remember i feel the burden of having it around would be too much. the diary i've bought now is modest enough- brown paper cover, even lines, a little more widely spaced than i'd prefer but ah well.
i know that it seems silly to care so much for something so little. but if it makes a difference there's no shame in loving anything, no matter how big or little in the grand scheme of things it is- it's there for a reason, so don't hide it
xXx
The first diary i had was bought in Ipswich on a visit to my friend Gina's Dad's house. her family had invited me for the weekend, and i still remember it to be one of the greatest weekends of my life; We went go-karting; her Dad was an amazing cook; and we spent the majority of the time in their back garden playing with her 6 and 7 year old brothers. but even though there were these big gestures that were amazing there are 2 things that stuck with me, that to some people wouldn't even matter (that's not to say anything against those people- it's just that everyone's life leads them to covet their own things; more often than not the tiniest pleasures are not shared pleasures).
the first was that i had my own room in their house. to them it was just a spare bedroom- but up until the age of 10 i had shared a room with both my younger brother and sister and from then on with my sister and to me the room was incredible. it wasn't big or anything, but it wasn't anyone else's- for those 3 days and 2 nights it was mine. I remember during the night i was scared because it was dark and Gina's family didn't leave a light on like mine do. the room was cold because there was no one else in there and the pillows were misshapen, not like the ones back home that over the years had learnt the curves of my head and the turns i made in my sleep. i woke up hours before anyone and sat, bored because there was no bed opposite mine with anyone to talk to. but it was still perfect.
the second thing was the diary itself. i still have it, under my bed in Beccles, in a small blue, lid-less container with 'Amy's stuff' emblazoned on the side in warn out marker. it's underneath the 5 other diaries that are brimming with my mind, and is by far the prettiest thing i've ever written in. the cover was silk, and had tiny flowers sown into it. when i bought it i was worried what my parents would think of the cost, but Gina said it was my money and i should spend it how i wanted to, so i did. when i got back to hers i copied the lyrics of my favourite song at the time onto the front pages- Muse, 'Time is Running Out'. i then wrote everything we had done that day and then let her read it. she said that it was good but i shouldn't write it like i expect people to read it, i should write it for me. so that night i wrote about how the room was scary and cold, and how Gina's youngest brother was a little annoying and when she asked to read it i said no. she wasn't angry, she understood. and from there on i've kept a diary.
they're all under my bed, the others. i had to be careful what i wrote in them because i knew if my mum found them she'd read them. one of my favourite things to do, whenever i'm at home and feeling low, is to pull out the blue container and rifle through my past at all my crushes and laugh at how even then i managed to write too often about my cats (Franky-you're still my baby man, even now ^^) But when i got to uni i thought 'enough'. enough censoring what i had to say, as long as that book stayed with me at all times at home and i was careful where i left it at uni there was no reason as to why i shouldn't write EXACTLY how i was feeling and everything that happened, good and bad. so i did.
but when i came back to this diary from last term after new years it felt...used. even thought i'd only written around 30 pages it felt like i'd gotten everything out of that diary that i could, so i stopped writing as often. and the less i wrote the more annoyed and frantic i became, having no outlet for how i was feeling and the more things went wrong or upset until there was this awful cycle that resulted in me coming over all emo on twitter. it was horrible! but it wasn't until a bit before coming back to uni i had the epiphany of buying another diary. and by epiphany i mean Kage suggested i do it. so i did.
It's already making a difference. the old diary is still here- it's on my side table underneath Doctor Who series 4, (500) Days of summer and Alex and Ted's Daft Punk masks they left at my house (i blatantly haven't put them on and danced around my room listening to 'Alive' on spotify...except i have and it was so much fun i thought i would wee myself a little bit. i didn't. unlike some people...) . i haven't decided whether or not i will keep it though. for the first time in my almost 8 years of diary infatuation i'm contemplating getting rid of it. there are a lot of things in that diary i would like to forget, and although some things i deserve to remember i feel the burden of having it around would be too much. the diary i've bought now is modest enough- brown paper cover, even lines, a little more widely spaced than i'd prefer but ah well.
i know that it seems silly to care so much for something so little. but if it makes a difference there's no shame in loving anything, no matter how big or little in the grand scheme of things it is- it's there for a reason, so don't hide it
xXx
Monday, 25 January 2010
Making sense of non-sensical things
I know it sounds wonderfully ridiculous to say i may have found an incredible solution to an otherwise impossible situation hidden within the plot of a Fox Network American Musical TV Drama created in lieu of the success of High School Musical and aimed primarily at tweenagers who spend their time either in a Zac-Efron-Induced-Comatose state or discussing why they would be so much better for Edward than Bella ever could be-
But i think i may have.
Then again, i've never exactly been one for convention. A girl who miaows between sentences can never truly adhere to any ideas of convention.
I'll keep you posted
xXx
But i think i may have.
Then again, i've never exactly been one for convention. A girl who miaows between sentences can never truly adhere to any ideas of convention.
I'll keep you posted
xXx
Friday, 22 January 2010
Seven AM Semi-Live Blog. and genius ideas.
It's a rare occasion that i'm awake at 7am.but thanks to the nazi's in the english office it's now a regular friday thing. However, today was the first time i'd done it and knew it would be sucktacular, which it was.
in order to lose some of the sucktackularness (my word making uppage has no boundaries. See?) i decided to do a semi-live blog. for those of you new to the whole shebang i basically write down stuff as it happens.
For old school semi-action (rofl i'm so grown-up) see;
http://amyvictoriageorge.blogspot.com/2008/12/semi-live-blog.html
http://amyvictoriageorge.blogspot.com/2008/12/semi-live-blog-napping-at-age-of.html
http://amyvictoriageorge.blogspot.com/2009/08/semi-live-somerfield.html
07:27am
Ok. I'm up. But all i've managed to do so far is sneak an arm out and reach for my dressing gown, and my arm nearly froze off. It's strictly under-duvet action from now on. I've pulled it over my head to lock in all warmth. All i'v gotta do now is pluck up the courage to get out of bed and turn the light on. I may be some time.
07:29am
It's kinda stuffy under here. I'm gonna abort the under-duvet plan. Dammit.
07:37am
ARGH i almost fell back asleep. I need to force myself to go turn the light on. this is gonna SUCK.
07:39am
WAAAAH!! THAT WAS HORRIBLE!! IT'S SO FRIGGIN COLD!! i managed to grab other necessities too, such as clothes and the like, so i can get ready under the comfort of cover. Alas, i left my make-up bag on my desk, like a complete dick. like hell if i'm going out there again. Make-Up can wait!!
8:05am
Just managed to get changed UNDERNEATH my cover. i gots skills that kills.
and unfortunately that's it. I accidentally dozed off in my clothes and had to rush to get ready so had no way of writing anything else.
Hey, i didn't say it was gonna be a good read, did i? you do that dance everytime you click on this blog- heaven only knows whether the majority of it'll be worth reading or even readable ;D
I did have an AMAZING idea though, whilst walking back from the library. the other day whilst on campus i saw underwear dangling from one of the big ol' lights they've got up around campus and was strangely impressed that it had managed to get up there. then today i saw more underwear casually thrown on a bush (FUNNIEST SENTENCE EVER). the idea that there must be thousands of pieces of random underwear randomly and sporadically thrown around campuses all over Britain really made me laugh and i chuckled to myself as i said outloud 'You found Underwhere?!". Then it hit me- i reckon there should be a website called 'Underwhere?' with like pictures of underwear that had been found in literally the most random places people have ever seen, all around the world!! so like, underwear found on like the great wall of china, or in a postbox or something stupid! it would be hilarious!!
that's my idea. "underwhere?"
xXx
in order to lose some of the sucktackularness (my word making uppage has no boundaries. See?) i decided to do a semi-live blog. for those of you new to the whole shebang i basically write down stuff as it happens.
For old school semi-action (rofl i'm so grown-up) see;
http://amyvictoriageorge.blogspot.com/2008/12/semi-live-blog.html
http://amyvictoriageorge.blogspot.com/2008/12/semi-live-blog-napping-at-age-of.html
http://amyvictoriageorge.blogspot.com/2009/08/semi-live-somerfield.html
07:27am
Ok. I'm up. But all i've managed to do so far is sneak an arm out and reach for my dressing gown, and my arm nearly froze off. It's strictly under-duvet action from now on. I've pulled it over my head to lock in all warmth. All i'v gotta do now is pluck up the courage to get out of bed and turn the light on. I may be some time.
07:29am
It's kinda stuffy under here. I'm gonna abort the under-duvet plan. Dammit.
07:37am
ARGH i almost fell back asleep. I need to force myself to go turn the light on. this is gonna SUCK.
07:39am
WAAAAH!! THAT WAS HORRIBLE!! IT'S SO FRIGGIN COLD!! i managed to grab other necessities too, such as clothes and the like, so i can get ready under the comfort of cover. Alas, i left my make-up bag on my desk, like a complete dick. like hell if i'm going out there again. Make-Up can wait!!
8:05am
Just managed to get changed UNDERNEATH my cover. i gots skills that kills.
and unfortunately that's it. I accidentally dozed off in my clothes and had to rush to get ready so had no way of writing anything else.
Hey, i didn't say it was gonna be a good read, did i? you do that dance everytime you click on this blog- heaven only knows whether the majority of it'll be worth reading or even readable ;D
I did have an AMAZING idea though, whilst walking back from the library. the other day whilst on campus i saw underwear dangling from one of the big ol' lights they've got up around campus and was strangely impressed that it had managed to get up there. then today i saw more underwear casually thrown on a bush (FUNNIEST SENTENCE EVER). the idea that there must be thousands of pieces of random underwear randomly and sporadically thrown around campuses all over Britain really made me laugh and i chuckled to myself as i said outloud 'You found Underwhere?!". Then it hit me- i reckon there should be a website called 'Underwhere?' with like pictures of underwear that had been found in literally the most random places people have ever seen, all around the world!! so like, underwear found on like the great wall of china, or in a postbox or something stupid! it would be hilarious!!
that's my idea. "underwhere?"
xXx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)