I've just realised that Chirstmas in less then two months away. Gosh.

I had to read out loud from my novel in the writing class this week. I was a wreck. A total wreck. But the feedback was good. I heard gasps. Twice. People don't generally plan shocked gasps. :) I take that as a good sign. Anyway afterwards I got some good feedback. Very positive. *feels relieved*

My geek was in Italy this week. I missed him. But he's home now.

I had a migraine that kept on coming back for five days straight this week. I'm resting today with my dog on the couch.

To betsycontent I got your book thanks!! I had a quick squizz. I am going to take it with me to the hairdresser tomorrow and read the poems in a relaxed environment. That way I can appreciate them more.

I am still waiting for my Geek to put pics up from the holiday but here are a few taken from my iPhone

Fish and chips on the wall in Aldborough

( more here )

My geek has this interesting quirk of pointing with his finger in a general direction saying: See that?

To which I usually reply: erm... what? See what?

He could be pointing to anything for all I know: The girl in the mini skirt, the new Mountain Warehouse?

His response: You are writer; you’re supposed to pay attention and notice everything.

*snorts* Really? I do see things, but not in the structured black and white way he does. That is why he’s a geek and I’m an artist. *grins at the audacity of that statement*

Anyway, so last week he says as we walk up the road: Just so you know, we’re on Putney High Street now, not somewhere in your head okay?

And there I thought we were walking on some foreign soil, some alien planet, with all these people rushing about from one store to the next, looking for a place to swipe their plastic and get that rush of a high when they walk out into the light with their purchases clutched in their hands.

I had a wonderful holiday with my Geek. It was great to spent some quality time with him. We both needed this break.
I feel very much like my old self again. Oh and my writing course starts tomorrow. *is very excited*
I'll post some pics real soon.

A week and a half! Really? Has it been so long since my last post already? I miss visiting eljay every day. I miss sharing and chatting with my friends. I'm afraid loads of you are going to de-friend me real soon for my apparent lack of interest in you. And I won't blame you if you do.

When I started freelancing I had all these grand ideas of planning my days out. Mondays I'll do this, Tuesdays I'll do that, etc. But it hasn't happened unfortunately. I even had a nap built into my calender for Wednesday afternoons. My Geek thought that was priceless and still teases me about it. But alas no time for napping.

I guess I should be happy that I'm this busy, and I am really. I need to say this out loud to the Universe: I AM GRATEFUL FOR BEING SO BUSY! There. I don't want the work to dry up because I complained that I had too much.

I do wish that I had just a tiny tiny tiny bit more time to do creative writing. My next course is starting in two weeks time so I think that will help me get back into it again. I think all this business and corporate writing has taken some of the creativity out of me. But I'll get it back. Soon.

We're going on holiday next week and that may also light a little spark. You know, change of scenery and all that.

*squishes her f-list tightly*

Answer the questions with pictures of the person/character you were tagged with. Leave a comment and I will give you a name if you want.

She gave me Wentworth and I've spent a lovely hour trawling through websites with pictures of Went on them. *winks*

Choose your favorite picture of this person.


( The rest over here )

I have been away to for so long that I am at a loss as to what to post. So I thought I'll just post this courtesy from clare_de_lune.

Your Soul Is Connected to the Fall

You are a somewhat sensitive soul with a tough exterior. You are street smart and wise about the world. You have the heart of a poet, but you're not too eager to let anyone else see it. You are very creative and deeply talented. You are still looking for the perfect outlet for your expression. You embrace change and think the cycles of life are beautiful. You don't shrink away from the darker elements of life.

Last night I'm sitting quietly, reading my book, minding my own business, when my Geek walks through the door with a huge grin on his face.
I'm going to make Peanut a Brazil Nut.
Hu?
I'm going to..
I heard you. Who's Peanut?
*gasp* You don't know?
*Wide eyed stare*
*Shakes head* It's my baby Samsung that you use everyday at Starbucks.
Ahhh *Gigglesnorts* And how are you going to do that?
*Another huge Grin* Windows 7
And with that he turned around and went back to where ever it is he goes to when he plays with his toys.

This is me setting your minds at ease. I have had few of my friends ask me if I'm okay and yes I am.

I am just doing a lot of soul searching at the moment because I'm at a point in my book where I'm getting totally and absolutely obsessed with Fiona and her feelings.

I think she's projecting some if her stuff onto me. Maybe I should post as Fiona when these things bug me so much that I have to write about them. *g*

So I'm okay. I'm happy in my little world. I'm writing like a maniac. What more could I ever want than this?

*squishes you all*

Seeing my mother in law two weekends in a row is not something I am going to be repeating soon. Uh-hu. No way.
Doing it stone cold sober? HA! Even a bigger no way.
I need this week just to recover.
*grins*

I just watched Goodbye Bafana for the first time. I have not been able to get myself to watch that movie.

It hit me really hard. I kind of expected that it would. It was as if I watched my whole life played off on screen. And my part wasn’t on the good side, the right side. I watched the children of Mandela’s prison guard and I saw myself. I remember all the times I asked the question, the one question. Why are the black people different? Why are they not allowed to do the things we do? And I remember the answer, the same answer being given to me patiently by my parents, much more forcefully by my teachers.

Black people are bad. They are not like us. If they have the chance they will come in the middle of the night and kill us all in our beds. It is God’s will. You do not question God. If you do he will get angry with you and you will go to hell.

I wonder now, when my parents told me that, did they really believe it? Did they believe the words they were saying or did they just say it so that I won’t make trouble? So that I would stop asking questions? I am too scared to ask them that. I cannot bear to look into their eyes and ask them that and see the shame the guilt in there. I’d rather not know.

Maybe some things are better left untouched.

I was tagged by happywriter06 ages and ages ago. So blame her. And I'm tagging no-one. :)

( here you go )

Won’t you embrace me?

you flow through me
you are my blood
you want it all
you ask too much

who am I to deny you?
was I strong
when I said no
I can't take it anymore?

is my excuse still valid?
the one I used when I
skulked away like a thief
I said I was scared

I miss your light
I miss your warmth
I miss your darkness
I miss you

I can’t look in the mirror
and not see
your blue skies
your yellow grass

I'm left with regrets
I cling to them
my memories are my treasure
how long before they fade?

I failed you
I can't live up
to what you
need from me

I am not tough enough to
walk through your streets
across your barren landscape
on your stormy shores.

I want to make things right
between you and me
I want to stretch out
on your red clay

does it have to be an
all or nothing with you?
why can’t I come to you
secretly at night?

when the world sleeps
won’t you embrace me
take me for what I am
a lost, lonely child?

A poem for flatlined for her birthday tomorrow.
I hope you'll have a great day.
*hugs*

you know me

how long have i known you?
two years?
two decades?
two lifetimes?

you are my friend
my sister
my priest
my muse

we've not met
never looked into the other's eyes
never felt the other's palm
never smelt the other's scent

yet you've stuck with me
when i'm flying
when i'm wallowing
when i'm evasive

you know me and
you don't flinch
you don't judge
you don't run

Third Person Limited Point of View.
No turning back and no more second guessing.
I am just getting on with it.
*takes a deep breath*

first person, third person
which one, which one
first person is more emotional
          more real
            more painful
third person is easier to write
          is distant
            is safer
gosh which one, which one
over and over and over in my mind
the most basic thing
      and
        i
          can't
            decide
i read the first person version
      i think it is more real
i read the third person version
      i think it is distant
am i brave enough to write first person
      am i strong enough
        am i good enough
fuck fuck fuck...
i can't move on until i've decided
i need to commit to one of them
*stares into space*

I hope your birthday is fabulous!