Me and Alex were having a natter about how disillusioned we have become with our blogs. He said he felt that he didn't write about himself enough, and I said I felt like I wrote too much about my tiny little life to really interest anyone.
Upon glancing back through my blog since september last year, however, I noticed that I haven't really been writing...well, anything. Occasionally I'll put up (what I deem to be) a little hilarious converchat between myself and one of my ridiculous family members or friends, but other than that it's all a bit...meh. I looked back at the glory days of my blog during first year; before the age of Twitter, I hasten to add. I used to write hundreds and hundreds of blogs, most of them itty bitty insights into what I was up to that day and stupid stuff that happened to me. But now? Now all the stupid stuff goes on Twitter. How stupid is that??
Then again it could just be that not many exciting things happen to me anymore. I mean, I can't remember the last time I was on campus and saw a bin on fire.
I'm not gonna type here and pretend that I'm going to suddenly reform my ways and everyday there'll be an 'Amy Update' or anything. Like I said, I don't wanna make it a 'ALL ABOUT ME ALL THE TIME RAH RAH I'M AMAZING AREN'T I?' type situation. I'm just gonna try and make more of an effort to not put EVERYTHING on Twitter- I tweet too much anyways- and instead just keep you guys posted on the happening haps of my not so happening life. Cos to say that NOTHING has happened to me recently would be a massively gross overstatement. And you guys know how i'm SO not prone to exaggeration, like, ever, duh.
So yeah. Wooo writing.
xXx
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
Fickle
Emma: What y'up to?
Me: Deleting messages from my kentmail. I have 250+ messages, and it's taking forever, 'cos I have to go through one by one checking I don't need them
Emma: Ah that sucks
Me: You know what really does piss me off, though?
Emma: What?
Me: The fuckin', 'deleted messages' folder thing-
Emma: Ahhhhh i knoww!
Me: What the hell?? First I have to delete all these, then I have to go through that deleting them? it's so stupid, I hate it
(5 minutes later)
Emma: So what are you doing tonight?
Me: (finger held down on 'delete') Well, me and Con were going to- *gasp* NOOOOOOO-
Emma: What?
Me: NONONONONONOOOOOO!
Emma: Amy, what is it?!?!?
Me: I wasn't supposed to delete that one! Shit, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?!
Emma: Er, er, er, quick- go into your deleted items!
Me: (looks puzzled) Wha- OH YEAH! (clicks folder) Ahhhhh, look, there it is! Oh, deleted items folder. You are the best folder there has ever been. Emma, seriously, this is like the greatest thing ever, see? It's just there! Ah, man, how relieved am I right now? Win.
xXx
Me: Deleting messages from my kentmail. I have 250+ messages, and it's taking forever, 'cos I have to go through one by one checking I don't need them
Emma: Ah that sucks
Me: You know what really does piss me off, though?
Emma: What?
Me: The fuckin', 'deleted messages' folder thing-
Emma: Ahhhhh i knoww!
Me: What the hell?? First I have to delete all these, then I have to go through that deleting them? it's so stupid, I hate it
(5 minutes later)
Emma: So what are you doing tonight?
Me: (finger held down on 'delete') Well, me and Con were going to- *gasp* NOOOOOOO-
Emma: What?
Me: NONONONONONOOOOOO!
Emma: Amy, what is it?!?!?
Me: I wasn't supposed to delete that one! Shit, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?!
Emma: Er, er, er, quick- go into your deleted items!
Me: (looks puzzled) Wha- OH YEAH! (clicks folder) Ahhhhh, look, there it is! Oh, deleted items folder. You are the best folder there has ever been. Emma, seriously, this is like the greatest thing ever, see? It's just there! Ah, man, how relieved am I right now? Win.
xXx
Monday, 24 January 2011
number9dream
Here's the review I wrote on 'number9dream' by David Mitchell (no, not THAT one) for my Novel writing seminar, thing. and stuff.
In David Mitchell's 'number9dream' we accompany Eiji Miyake on his journey to Tokyo, in the hope of finding the father who abandoned him and his twin sister Anju; they are the result of an illegitimate affair with their alcoholic mother his father would rather forget. On the surface the story seems bored, predictable and potentially riddled with cliché; in practice, Mitchell has turned it into one of the most compelling and emotive stories of the 21st century.
We begin in a run-down café, with a determined Eiji psyching himself up to go and confront a law-firm who he believes hold information that will help him find his father. We then relive this moment three times over; each time an extension of reality with a different result. We realise that the overtly imaginative Eiji is daydreaming as to the possibilities of the day. This blend between reality and the ridiculous is an underlying method used by Mitchell throughout the novel. The first chapter alone creates a concoction of reality and the mystique that flows through the novel; whether it is via Eiji's imagination or that of another mind, the few matter-of-fact occurrences of his life (that could be seen as mundane but are in fact beautiful) are accompanied by ludicrous and spell-binding creation of other worlds, parallels and realities.
The lyrical quality of of Mitchell's words is breath-taking. In amongst reason and fact lie subtle sentences, so full of beauty and contemplation that you cannot help but be stunned by his ability to select the right words at the right time. A discussion on the meaning of life between Eiji and love interest Ai Imajo, whilst he watches his cat lap at water, is a perfect demonstration of Mitchell's ability to find beauty in amongst everyday occurrences. This style can also be found in his descriptions of Tokyo; they bring it to life in a way a photo could dream to, as you create the world so effortlessly in your mind, thanks to his wonderful use of words. Because he has helped you to imagine you truly feel as if you are stood behind the shoulder of Eiji, throughout it all. It is not only his journey- it also becomes yours.
Eiji's narrative provides a lucid foreground for our story to take place; detailed and intricate, Mitchell's ability to write the ridiculous as matter-of-factly as the norm allows us to become lost in Eiji's imagination. This also allows the subtle themes to come through on a level of ethos we only experience because of the strength of Eji's narrative voice; the idea of loss, not only of his parental heritage, becomes stronger and stronger in not only the moments where Eiji is directly speaking of his father, but in the times where events much bigger than his character are taking place. Eiji's tendency to remember echoes of a past life and normality, create an empathy that stings within the reader, making the idea of loss so much more effective.
Mitchell's 'number9dream' is a masterpiece; intricate, detailed, but never tiring.
xXx
PS Sorry i haven't written much. things have been hella crazy up in here. i'll try to come back sooner, i promise (nothing)
In David Mitchell's 'number9dream' we accompany Eiji Miyake on his journey to Tokyo, in the hope of finding the father who abandoned him and his twin sister Anju; they are the result of an illegitimate affair with their alcoholic mother his father would rather forget. On the surface the story seems bored, predictable and potentially riddled with cliché; in practice, Mitchell has turned it into one of the most compelling and emotive stories of the 21st century.
We begin in a run-down café, with a determined Eiji psyching himself up to go and confront a law-firm who he believes hold information that will help him find his father. We then relive this moment three times over; each time an extension of reality with a different result. We realise that the overtly imaginative Eiji is daydreaming as to the possibilities of the day. This blend between reality and the ridiculous is an underlying method used by Mitchell throughout the novel. The first chapter alone creates a concoction of reality and the mystique that flows through the novel; whether it is via Eiji's imagination or that of another mind, the few matter-of-fact occurrences of his life (that could be seen as mundane but are in fact beautiful) are accompanied by ludicrous and spell-binding creation of other worlds, parallels and realities.
The lyrical quality of of Mitchell's words is breath-taking. In amongst reason and fact lie subtle sentences, so full of beauty and contemplation that you cannot help but be stunned by his ability to select the right words at the right time. A discussion on the meaning of life between Eiji and love interest Ai Imajo, whilst he watches his cat lap at water, is a perfect demonstration of Mitchell's ability to find beauty in amongst everyday occurrences. This style can also be found in his descriptions of Tokyo; they bring it to life in a way a photo could dream to, as you create the world so effortlessly in your mind, thanks to his wonderful use of words. Because he has helped you to imagine you truly feel as if you are stood behind the shoulder of Eiji, throughout it all. It is not only his journey- it also becomes yours.
Eiji's narrative provides a lucid foreground for our story to take place; detailed and intricate, Mitchell's ability to write the ridiculous as matter-of-factly as the norm allows us to become lost in Eiji's imagination. This also allows the subtle themes to come through on a level of ethos we only experience because of the strength of Eji's narrative voice; the idea of loss, not only of his parental heritage, becomes stronger and stronger in not only the moments where Eiji is directly speaking of his father, but in the times where events much bigger than his character are taking place. Eiji's tendency to remember echoes of a past life and normality, create an empathy that stings within the reader, making the idea of loss so much more effective.
Mitchell's 'number9dream' is a masterpiece; intricate, detailed, but never tiring.
xXx
PS Sorry i haven't written much. things have been hella crazy up in here. i'll try to come back sooner, i promise (nothing)
Saturday, 15 January 2011
(500) Days of...
I used to be a 'Tom'. Now I'm definitely a 'Summer'.
McKenzie: [drunk] So do you have a boyfriend?
Summer: No.
McKenzie: Why not?
Summer: Because I don’t want one.
McKenzie: Come on; I don’t believe that.
Summer: You don’t believe that a woman could enjoy being free and independent?
McKenzie: Are you a lesbian?
Summer: [laughing] No I’m not a lesbian. I just, don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s girlfriend. I don’t actually feel comfortable being anyone’s anything.
McKenzie: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Summer: Really?
McKenzie: Nope.
Summer: Ok, let me break it down for you–
McKenzie: Break it down!
Summer: Ok. I, like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.
McKenzie: Oh my God, you’re a dude. [to Tom] She’s a dude!
Tom: Ok but wait–wait. What happens, if you fall in love?
[she scoffs]
Tom: What?
Summer: You don’t believe that, do you?
Tom: It’s love, it’s not Santa Claus.
xXx
McKenzie: [drunk] So do you have a boyfriend?
Summer: No.
McKenzie: Why not?
Summer: Because I don’t want one.
McKenzie: Come on; I don’t believe that.
Summer: You don’t believe that a woman could enjoy being free and independent?
McKenzie: Are you a lesbian?
Summer: [laughing] No I’m not a lesbian. I just, don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s girlfriend. I don’t actually feel comfortable being anyone’s anything.
McKenzie: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Summer: Really?
McKenzie: Nope.
Summer: Ok, let me break it down for you–
McKenzie: Break it down!
Summer: Ok. I, like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.
McKenzie: Oh my God, you’re a dude. [to Tom] She’s a dude!
Tom: Ok but wait–wait. What happens, if you fall in love?
[she scoffs]
Tom: What?
Summer: You don’t believe that, do you?
Tom: It’s love, it’s not Santa Claus.
xXx
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Science and History; as taught by Pandy
Me: Mum, here's some news; they've changed the astrological star sign dates... thing.
Mum: They've what?
Me: you know how your birthday relates to a star sign-
Mum: Oh, the zodiac?
Me: yeah!! S'been changed now. I'm now an...Aquarius.
Mum: Well, no, that's rubbish, bloody changing them-
Me: Well, no, it's cos-
Mum: Why do they keep bloody changing things??? They got rid of sodding Pluto already!
Me:...erm...but NASA said-
Mum: sod NASA, because they got rid of Pluto for being too small, THEY MAKE THIS CRAP UP AS THEY GO ALONG!I tell you Amy, I went beserk when I found out they got rid of it for being too small,HOW CAN YOU GET RID OF SOMETHING FOR BEING SMALL?? IT'S STILL THERE!
Me: Well, it just wasn't technically a planet anymor-
Mum: It is a planet- IT IS A BLOODY A PLANET!!
Fozz: What are you shouting about now, Ma??
Mum:THAT THEY GOT RID OF PLUTO.
(Fozz sighs, whilst Dad laughs in the back round)
Mum: It's not funny, Andrew! Is that to say small people don't exist, cos small planets don't exist???
Me: Er, no, no I don't think that's what they were saying at al-
Mum: It's rubbish, it's rubbish, it's all crap. Short people make the history!
Me: The history??
Mum: They make the history yeah, maybe not for good things, but you know Napoleon. AND Hitler. The fact they were tiny made history.
Me: I never started any history lessons with the tinier you are, the more history you'll make, although not necessarily for a good reason
Mum: Hitler- He was tiny. And he only had one gonad. and he had a moustache. Not good really, is it, for old Hitler??
Me: *speechless* Well- er
Mum: do not ever let Pluto go, Amy. We short people have to stick together.
Me:...does this mean I now have to advocate Napoleon and Hitler?
xXx
Mum: They've what?
Me: you know how your birthday relates to a star sign-
Mum: Oh, the zodiac?
Me: yeah!! S'been changed now. I'm now an...Aquarius.
Mum: Well, no, that's rubbish, bloody changing them-
Me: Well, no, it's cos-
Mum: Why do they keep bloody changing things??? They got rid of sodding Pluto already!
Me:...erm...but NASA said-
Mum: sod NASA, because they got rid of Pluto for being too small, THEY MAKE THIS CRAP UP AS THEY GO ALONG!I tell you Amy, I went beserk when I found out they got rid of it for being too small,HOW CAN YOU GET RID OF SOMETHING FOR BEING SMALL?? IT'S STILL THERE!
Me: Well, it just wasn't technically a planet anymor-
Mum: It is a planet- IT IS A BLOODY A PLANET!!
Fozz: What are you shouting about now, Ma??
Mum:THAT THEY GOT RID OF PLUTO.
(Fozz sighs, whilst Dad laughs in the back round)
Mum: It's not funny, Andrew! Is that to say small people don't exist, cos small planets don't exist???
Me: Er, no, no I don't think that's what they were saying at al-
Mum: It's rubbish, it's rubbish, it's all crap. Short people make the history!
Me: The history??
Mum: They make the history yeah, maybe not for good things, but you know Napoleon. AND Hitler. The fact they were tiny made history.
Me: I never started any history lessons with the tinier you are, the more history you'll make, although not necessarily for a good reason
Mum: Hitler- He was tiny. And he only had one gonad. and he had a moustache. Not good really, is it, for old Hitler??
Me: *speechless* Well- er
Mum: do not ever let Pluto go, Amy. We short people have to stick together.
Me:...does this mean I now have to advocate Napoleon and Hitler?
xXx
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Mum
Mum: Ohh, 'War of the Worlds' is on
David: I've been through the Boeing 747 Jet crash set in Universal Studios on a tram!
Mum: No, that was in Coronoation Street.
All of Us: ??????????
It's ok. She understands the world in a slightly different way from the rest of us. She's quite content.
xXx
David: I've been through the Boeing 747 Jet crash set in Universal Studios on a tram!
Mum: No, that was in Coronoation Street.
All of Us: ??????????
It's ok. She understands the world in a slightly different way from the rest of us. She's quite content.
xXx
Dad, I can't talk- J-Park 3 is on
*Phone Rings. It's Pandy*
Me: Hey Dad.
Dad: Hey, can you just ask... wait, what's that?
Me: What's what?
Dad: In the backround. What's all that screaming?
Me: Oh, yeah, Billy's parachute got stuck, and now the pterodactyls are all up in his grill.
Dad:... What?
Me: yeah, no, he was trying to save Eric, but Eric was in their nest and now, well... Bitches. Be. Trippin'. Sam Neill's doing the best he can, but-
Dad: OHH, you're watching a Jurassic Park film!
Me:...You sound surprised.
xXx
Me: Hey Dad.
Dad: Hey, can you just ask... wait, what's that?
Me: What's what?
Dad: In the backround. What's all that screaming?
Me: Oh, yeah, Billy's parachute got stuck, and now the pterodactyls are all up in his grill.
Dad:... What?
Me: yeah, no, he was trying to save Eric, but Eric was in their nest and now, well... Bitches. Be. Trippin'. Sam Neill's doing the best he can, but-
Dad: OHH, you're watching a Jurassic Park film!
Me:...You sound surprised.
xXx
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