Feast For Friday, And Other Things
So. It turns out that the male readers of this blog have a certain penchant for dungarees. Thing is, right, that I can sort of see what you mean. In a Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Sister Act II sort of a way they are cool. Rest assured that I would not look like that in a pair of dungarees, and it is for this reason as well as many others that I shall not be attempting to initiate a Dungaree Revival (although that would be a good song title for Sister Act II).
It is Friday, so we must feast in celebration.
Name 3 things that you think are strange.
1. Peaked woollen caps. I don't understand them. I am hoping that now the weather is warming up a bit all those silly girls will stop wearing them. They are horrible.
2. When people spit in the street. If I am taking 'strange' to mean 'really really disgusting', which I am for this one. Also for the last one. Spitting in the street and wearing nasty headwear are equally bad habits and should be made hanging offences.
3. People not being able to pronounce my name, even if I explain it to them over and over again. People have gone for years without managing to get it right. Three syllables, for some people apparently, is an insurmountable challenge that will puzzle them until their death beds. Which will be sooner than they think if they keep pronouncing my name wrong.
What was the last ceremony you attended?
I'm not sure.
My Dad's CBE ceremony? Although I didn't actually go to the ceremony, to be honest. The question isn't, however, 'What was the last ceremony you didn't attend?' so that doesn't count.
Although if that was the question it would be much easier. I didn't attend a ceremony just this morning.
What is one lesson you have learned in the past year?
I can't think of anything positive to write in this bit. I keep trying to think of good lessons but my cynicism keeps bubbling up. I am choosing, therefore, not to answer.
Tell us about one of your childhood memories.
Once my sister Alex and I were walking to the post box around the corner from our house. In my mind's eye Alex was perhaps ten, so I would have been eight. It was summer, late afternoon. I think I was barefoot.
Alex was skipping, and with each skip she was jumping further and further into the air. Her face was turned towards me, her eyebrows raised and a huge grin on her face as she demonstrated to me how high she could skip. Each one higher than the last as I laughed in encouragement.
Then she skipped into a lamp post.
It was like a cartoon. "Boing!" and flat on the pavement.
I remember laughing, until she cried and had a nasty bruise on her head. Then I felt guilty for laughing and we went home.
If you could extend any of the four seasons to be twice as long as normal, which season would you want to lengthen?
If I am taking Autumn to be warm and colourful, but sometimes crisp, then Autumn. If, however, I am more realistic and it is rainy with the odd sunny day, then I would choose Summer.
The CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) was good. I liked my therapist, Sarah, and she said at the end of the session that she thought that CBT could really help me.
She said I had self-esteem problems. She said other things, too. Lots of things were said and it felt positive. Good. Only a little bit scary. I was open with her, and I felt relaxed and honest.
I am beginning to hope a little bit. Only a little bit, though. We're not quite ready to crack out the celebratory dungarees yet.
Tomorrow my sister Sophie (Paris-living, impish) is coming home as it is her twenty-first birthday. She has hired out a place and has invited lots of people to sing and play and DJ and things. My friend Lily will be tassel twirling. I will not be joining her. I will, however, be singing my own songs. I hope to get some photos and maybe a video clip on my website.
I'm looking forward to seeing Sophie, who will be getting a bus and a ferry with about eight friends today. I'm looking forward to seeing Alex (who, you will be relieved to know, has since recovered from the skipping/lamp post incident) and I am looking forward to the whole thing. I haven't decided what to wear, yet. I am thinking some sort of dungaree/peaked woollen cap combination. Perhaps I'll wear the cap sideways on.
One more thing before I go:
Googlers: You are my friends, too! I got the feeling that I had offended Mr/Mrs/Ms Anonymous Googler who commented. I don't want to dissuade the people who Google to get here from reading, it's just that I want the people who know that I would be uncomfortable knowing they read it to use some discretion, that's all. What a very tangled sentence that was. I can imagine language students having trouble with that one.
On that note I hope you all have a pretty and dungaree-filled weekend, and remember to watch out for lamp posts.