quinnathan replied to your post: I CAN FINALLY PUT A VOICE TO THE FACE.
That might’ve been my worst message ever, so there’s nothing to worry about. I really didn’t know how to properly responded. I was thinking of saying something like, “You mean that kind of accent isn’t a fabrication of Hollywood?”
I think you must have a pretty good score of messages if that’s your worst. And it isn’t up to the standard of a Bond villain, but I’d like to think I have the sarcastic butler thing down.
“I think women have to develop courage. You’re not born with courage, but you develop it. Try to develop your courage with smaller things. If someone wants to pick up 100 lbs, they start by picking up 5 lbs, and then build up their muscles. It’s the same with…
One of the biggest reasons I condemn capital punishment
is the fact that it seeks to ‘serve justice’, and yet punishes countless people who have done nothing wrong. Falsely convicted innocents aside - and that isn’t to say those who have done the crimes should face execution anyway - I mean those who were particularly close to the criminal. Because I can guarantee you that the parents, siblings, friends and children of the people being killed probably don’t condone that person’s actions. And in order to allow one family a sense of ‘justice’ for a murder, you’re making another batch of innocents face bereavement on top of the shock of conviction.
I always get choked up at that scene in Sex and the City where Miranda visits Steve’s apartment, thinking there’s still a chance with him, and finds him baking cupcakes. The bit where she’s really sweet and starts to help, and then finds out they aren’t actually for the playground but for Debbie. And Steve has to go, and she’s standing there making birthday cupcakes for the guy she’s still in love with’s new girlfriend. Then she calls Carrie, crying, and accidentally screws up the icing.
This makes me extremely happy. And wouldn’t the result of a balcony fall be dependent on where the balcony was? Like you said, an escalator implies definite, eternal falling. I imagine the fall from a first floor balcony would be pretty disappointing, and not quite as menacing.
A few months ago, I burnt my neck whilst doing my hair before school/sixth form. Within a few hours, it had healed over to look like a lovebite or hickey or whatever your preferred term is. I had History that day, and my teacher (who hated me) and lots of other people who passed by kept looking at it, and I KNEW WHAT THEY WERE THINKING, and no. And it made this gross scab thing, and I was lying in bed that night so afraid that if I touched it too hard, the contents of my jugular would burst out and I would die a really undignified death, looking how I do when I lie in bed at night, only with blood everywhere.
Every autumn, my secondary school/sixth form holds an evening ceremony to praise the students that have done well over the previous academic year. It’s always at the beginning of the school year (because the exam results given out in the summer have to be taken into consideration, I’m guessing) and it involves certificates and awards being handed out, as well as brief intervals with scarily confident Year Sevens singing. My uselessness was acknowledged across a span of five years, where I received nothing and was not invited once. They came to their senses last year, and although it was the only time I had ever been up for a certificate, it felt pretty safe to assume the night worked in the same way every year.
According to an unexpected phone call from one of my old teachers and a letter in the post, this year I’m up for the award in English. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it before on this blog, but
I CAN’T WALK IN FRONT OF PEOPLE.
It’s tonight, and if it’s set out the way I presume it usually is, I’ll have to get up and walk across the stage in front every other student who’s up (which will probably be at least 100), their parents, as well as every teacher in the school. It’s like people watching me eat. I cannot stand people watching me walk. I have a stupid walk. I have a stupid walk, and what if I trip over when I get up? What if I fall down the steps by the side of the stage, and have to do a walk of shame back to my seat?
I thought I’d be able to get out of it somehow, but CHSG decided to be sneaky and hold the evening a few weeks earlier than usual, so the girls who had left could attend because their universities wouldn’t have started up yet.
Expect a rant about tonight tomorrow. I’m hoping it can’t get any worse than last year. Because there are so many students up, they go by alphabetical order and call up five or six at a time. I was expecting to be the first of a new group, but ended up being the sixth of one that was already up. They called my name and I didn’t register I had to hurry up, and so I ended up doing a really uncomfortable styled-out jog across the hall.
I do indeed, haha. I think most universities over here provide definite first year accommodation, actually, and I’m pretty sure the certainty of that played its part in spurring my mother on. I just have to make sure I don’t come home one weekend to find the locks have changed.
She decided to go ahead with decorating my room about a month before I leave for university.
Our rooms are next to each other, and the new carpet she insisted on for mine is strangely complementary to the one in her room. Actually, so is the new colour of my room. And although that was my choice, it was the only one out of a few options that she seemed really enthusiastic about.
Over the past six months, she’s whittled down my space in the study from three drawers and the entire bookcase to one drawer and two shelves.
The carpet people came to do my room yesterday, so before we put everything back, we sorted through all of the stuff I didn’t need to keep. I went downstairs for a glass of water and when I returned, she’d already filled up two bin bags. Without asking me what I wanted to keep.
I woke up this morning to a note on my dining room table that read:
"PLS EMPTY YOUR STUFF FROM DRAWERS IN STUDY. HAVE ALSO PUT SOME STUFF INTO CHEST OF DRAWERS IN YOUR ROOM."
I walked out of school on Results Day completely unable to process the fact that I wasn’t a part of it any longer. My accommodation was sorted out afterwards, I booked my tickets for Freshers’ Week events, and I started talking to the people I’ll be living with. I had to go back into CHSG this morning - I got a phone call from one of my teachers saying that a form had to be signed - and I didn’t know that it was the first day back for the students there. It really sank in that it’s over.
And there was a new Year 7 with her mum right in front of me, and all I could think about was my first day in 2004.
our fingerprints are like snowflakes, we leave them on everything, but they melt in the time it takes to touch someones tongue, but if we’re lucky, maybe we’re remembered, along with the sunken cities of a lost continent, this is for each child who was a monument to the ones who came before, …
Shhhhhhh. Quiet, sweetheart. Strictly speaking we’re not supposed to be in here this late at night. I thought it’d be nice to come somewhere a little quieter though, didn’t you? Have a bit of privacy? Have a bit of conversation?
It’s funny, isn’t it, how you can just meet someone and hit it off with them? I felt something when I saw you tonight. No, I don’t mean like that. I thought you’d be a good listener. You’ve got nice eyes, kind eyes. What are you laughing for? I mean it. It’s not just a line.
I haven’t always been the voice of Radio Green Oaks, you know. Maybe you’re a little young to remember: I worked at Radio Wyvern Sound for fifteen years, various shows, but most people remember me for the final eight years there, when I did Romantica. It was a big show, ten till midnight every weekday night - maybe too late for you back then. It had the highest listening figures after the breakfast show, and no one at Wyvern came close in terms of listener calls.
'Can you play “Air that I Breathe” by the Hollies for my girlfriend Sarah, cos I love her more than I can ever tell her.' 'Please can you dedicate “Alone Again (Naturally)” by Gilbert O'Sullivan to my ex-girlfriend Jessica. It's been three years now, Jessica, but I still love you and want you to know I'm waiting.' 'I want to request “Reunited” for my princess Meena. Tell her it will never happen again and I want her to forgive me.' 'Please play “Close to You” for David and tell him that he is the only glue that can fix my broken heart.'
We got more requests than we could ever get through. So much activity of the heart directed straight into my earpiece. Can you imagine that? Maybe you’re too young to understand. I was a lightning conductor for all this electricity. All these invisible currents that were shooting out across the Wyvern region - I caught them all. It was hard to sleep at night knowing what was going on out there. I’d close my eyes and I’d feel the irregular beating of all these disturbed hearts. But my heart was not disturbed, my heart was still, so still I started to think maybe I was dead.
Every night I dreamt of a place - do you know where I mean? Have you had that dream? Every night I dreamt of a place and I knew the place was death, and I’d wake up ringing with sweat, and there as I lay on the damp sheets I’d feel my limp heart beating just enough to tell me I was still alive.
The station bosses were deciding whether to shunt Glenn Rydale off the weekend nightspots and extend Romantica to seven days a week. It felt that even if we ran Romantica 24/7 we still wouldn’t get through all the requests - lovesickness seemed to be spreading. I think my heart was the only heart in Wyvern that was still.
Then more suddenly than I think you could imagine, it all stopped. Two weeks. That’s not a long time, is it? In two weeks we went from total system overload to nothing. Friday 11th March, 1983 - no one called. Some massive cardiac arrest, a monstrous coronary atrophy, ten thousand hearts silenced. I tried to bring them round, I pumped on the chest, I played songs that would make the dead weep, but the corpse was cold. Love was dead, and I never felt more alive. Can you understand that?
I lost my job, obviously, but within months I became the voice of Green Oaks. I never saw it as a step down. I tell the people of Green Oaks that spring is here, I tell them forty-nine shopping days till Christmas - perhaps you’ve heard me say that - I tell them that this season we’re looking to the East for inspiration - and I don’t feel dead. I tell them to enjoy two meals for the price of one in the food court before 12.30 and does anybody feel their heart beating strangely today? I ask if they ever phoned Romantica to request a song for the person standing beside them, who once took up their entire field of vision and now they can barely even see. I ask them if they ever got drunk and left a bar with a man twice their age and fell asleep with their head in his dormant lap. I ask them if they’ve considered the many advantages of a Green Oaks shopping card and do they ever wonder what happened to love? I ask them all these things, sweetheart, but I never hear the answers.
5 (should have seen that one coming from me), 12. Feel better! *sends you get better mind waves across the Atlantic*
The mind waves must have worked, because it’s mostly cleared up. Hurrah!
5. Pick a song that projects the same mood as your day or week and explain.
Hmm. Heard ‘Em Say - Kanye West. Not necessarily sad, but sort of tired and quiet.
12. If you could trade places with anyone for one week, who would it be and why?
One of my best friends, I think. I’d like to see what it’s like for them after we hang up the phone, or say bye after meeting up. I’d have to get permission, of course; I feel like I’d be invading their privacy otherwise. I don’t know anyone who would say yes to another person experiencing their life for a week first-hand, come to think of it.
Asked by livinginthematerialworld. (Who was lovely and gave me my answers to post properly after I was a div and replied privately to the original ask.)
3. What are some things that can almost always make your day better? Do you find yourself having a lot of bad days, or mostly good days?
I have a whole list of things that instantly brighten my day, haha. Eating jelly and watching Gilmore Girls. I definitely have more good days than bad days, fortunately.
4. What do you think it means to be in love?
I’ve typed and retyped about fifty different answers to this, and I have nothing. Whatever you want it to mean.
8. What bugs you most about your generation? What do you like most about your generation?
I sound like such a hypocrite giving this answer, but the way that so many of us speak out against our own generation. The way a few teens try and act as though they’re on higher ground, and they ‘get’ things that ‘the rest of [us]’ don’t. Things like grammar and taste in entertainment. It’s as though a lot of teens are aware of the label they get because of their age, and instead of proving it wrong, they agree with it and try to distance themselves from it by putting others down (and their tastes up). It’s great that you like music from the ’60s. It just doesn’t mean that you’re more mature, or intelligent, or experienced than any other adolescent your age. :|
Ignoring those people, one of the things I like most about my generation is the way we do often try to shed the stereotypes. How much we actually care about education and politics and global issues, even if we are accused of only being naive and angsty door-slammers.
14. What would be the hardest and most fearful thing you would ever have to face in your lifetime? Why does this scare you so much?
This is one of those questions I skimmed past and didn’t read properly, and I’m now really surprised at how difficult answering it is. I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can. Not without a huge amount of thought, at least.
28. Do you tell it how it is, or keep your thoughts to yourself? Which do you think is best?
I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive. For both questions, I think it’s dependent on the situation.
I do, but…it’s tricky. I think that although we’ll always find ourselves pushed into groups, it doesn’t mean they should naturally fall into a pecking order. Factors like location and income will probably set divides between people for years to come, but the idea of being in a particular class seems to have more to do with how you’re viewed as opposed to what you make, even if the two are linked. I believe in social classes in the sense that they’re a reality, and one that will most likely last, but I don’t believe that they should last as they are now.
21. Do you ever really learn from your mistakes?
I do academically - never using a certain structure again, or looking at this more closely next time instead of that - but outside of that, it’s a little more difficult. I often repeat things that I know are stupid, but I don’t know if that means that I don’t learn from my mistakes. I’d like to think it has more to do with being optimistic and believing I’ll be able to do it next time, but probably not.
26. Talk about a moment where you were truly happy. What was happening? Who were you with?
Hmm. Valentine’s Day this year. I had friends over, and it was one of those moments where you’re talking about everything and anything at ridiculous o’clock. It was just nice.