That’s right, it may be late (in both the time of night and for new years) but I’ve got my resolution. Perhaps not drinking rum ever again would have been a good one, or last years one could have been carried over (to eat more slowly), but this year is going to be different.
I am giving up the exclamation mark.
That’s right kids. It’s going. The punctuation mark that I use above all others. You see, somewhere in my youth when I had a livejournal account I decided that exclamation marks made text sound lively and enthusiastic. However, the other day I found this old online diary, and upon reading it began to hate my younger self. The tone was dreadful…. here is an extract:
I want an a* in english!!!!! I need one!!!! Why am i so englishly challenged?!!!! My teacher is really getting me down, I have a the urge to blame it all on her.. but its probably me. NEVERMIND! Oh ooh oooh!!! I might be going to see the dead Kennedys, no idea who they are BUT WHO CARES! I am going with maryam and Russell told me that he would be there and he was going. Hes so lovely! He used to so so soooo quiet never saying more than a couple of words, but now he chats to me endlessly! tis great! Well until he quits skating.
That was from 2004, I was sixteen. I was extremely annoying. And who the hell was Russell? Apart from confusion about who all these different men were that I used to have a crush on, as well as the awful grammar and spelling, the ‘fangirl’ style use of exclamation marks is possibly the most horrific feature of this diary entry. Thus, in the days that followed, a heightened awareness of this symbol occurred, and I realised maybe I hadn’t changed that much..? Maybe I was still that awful sixteen year old girl that had few friends and spent much of her time online chatting on forums? Maybe I was a loser…?
Before I could have some kind of life crisis, I placated myself that somethings had changed. I had been in a successful relationship, I did have many friends now, and the amount of time I spent talking on forums to people about Lord of the Rings had reduced to zero. However, that pesky exclamation mark had gone viral: it was in my texts, my emails, it even sounded like I was silently punctuating them on the end of my speech. It had got to the point where full-stops sounded so lifeless and dull that I felt obliged to exclaim everything. Like a seaman slips into cursing, I had slipped into the land of the exclamation mark. The written equivalent of shouting in someone’s face.
But it’s ok. I’ve changed. They’re gone as you may have noticed. This is going to be hard year, but I’m hoping I can manage to survive the exclamatory drought (Otherwise I might have to sign right back up to that LOTR forum and start *droooling* over Awlandough Bwoom).
Good morning all,
a short film I wrote earlier this year has been adjusted and is currently in preproduction with a bunch of wonderful chaps I met at the University of York. There’s Matt, our director who is doing the MA in Writing, Directing and Performance and then four men from the technical post-production side: Jeff and Jon our sound engineers and James and Andrew our visual engineers. We also have a lovely lady called Hannah as one of our actors. We’ve sorted our location, negotitated crazy late night filming hours, got hold of the equipment, checked out the sound, and begun rehearsals. Fingers crossed by the end of January we will have a film that can be sent off to festivals. Though this is technically a practice run for our next project. We are hoping to come up with a production group name over christmas and everyone is has the lovely homework task of creating fake career guidance posters. ‘A is for Abbatoir cleaner, B is for Banner Holder, C is for Cat Commiserator, D is for Duckling Weigher.’
I’m also beginning research on a set of stories based around the idea of ‘Revenge Motivated Time Travel’. It will be both a short story collection and a guide to proecting yourself against revenge-motivated time travel, as well how to commit it yourself. In my head it is a graphic novel.
Last night I went to my friend’s house and we watched Belleville Rendez-vous
A bizarre animation which was perfect for a snowy winter’s evening after a hard day’s reading. I’m looking forward to watching the Illusionist when that becomes available on DVD. I am disgustingly snowed under with work, and even more disgustingly not getting on with it. All I know is that this MA (now in Film and Literature) is making me want to become a pirate and get a tattoo.
I’m hoping to go see Swallows and Amazons at Bristol Old Vic this Christmas (it was one of my favourite books as a child), and possible seeing ‘Rare Exports’ this evening. That’s the horror film about Father Christmas. Once I get this hideous essay out of the way next year will begin with a blaze of British Cinema watching and Children’s Literature (I was going to study Beckett but the lure of Children’s Literature and Picturebooks was too strong.).
Filed under: Uncategorized
Guten Morgan.
Just to let you know I’m still alive. I’ve been in a bit of an odd place, fortunately I got sick of it. Things have been in flux lately, and I’ve been pretty against any kind of flux. There’s been a lot of weeping, but I am and always will be a weeper. My mother often told me so: ‘Stephanie, stop weeping! It doesn’t help.’ Therefore I’ve turned off the Bizali ‘Dance Yourself Alone’ album that makes me cry, taken a break from listening to Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse, finished the Wire and started watching True Blood and lots of new films. I’m also doing a placement with Kneehigh Theatre company. The last two days I’ve spent mostly in my car putting up posters round Cornwall. Newquay, Redruth, Truro, Camborne, Falmouth, St. Austell. All have been postered the hell out of. Here is the nicest one:
I’ve actually really enjoyed exploring these places and talking to cafe, pub, church, restaurant and shop owners. Generally everyone’s been really lovely and happy to accomodate a poster. Thank god I’m not postering for something that people don’t like. Like piano untuning, badger saving, the banning of eggs from society.
I no longer have a university library account. I feel a bit lost. Times are hard. But it’s ok. I’m utilising the internet in all it’s legal glory. Here are two recomendations:
The White Ribbon. See it. It’s intense, long and great. However in my mind it’s become a black and white german version of Midsomer Murders, minus DCI Barnaby.
Dan in Real Life. An unusual take on a classic broken family storyline: it manages to combine elements you’re familiar with in a new way with engaging characters to create moving film about a stubborn widower falling in love. Much better than ‘The Family Stone’ or any of that genre that I’ve come across.
In other news… I may fly to exotic New York in September for a week, but while I’m out there I will probably see a British show. It wasn’t planned. I just happen to be out there at the same time as the show is. In case you are also flying to New York in September, October, November, December time here is a link: http://www.roundabouttheatre.org/54/ It’s for Kneehigh’s production Brief Encounter. I’ve only heard good things, but I’ll fill you in on my (vague, overly biased) opinion in September.
I went to the theatre by myself this evening. It was a Cornish show which a fellow intern at Kneehigh is working on. It is called ‘Deception’ and it’s touring round Cornwall, well worth a watch.
I will do some creative writing soon. I’ve done some but it’d be this:
Geddit?
Filed under: Uncategorized
I got a first class honours from my degree this week. It’s taking a while to sink in because I was not expecting it at all, but it was a wonderful surprise. These past few weeks have been absolutely exhausting so I’m looking forward to having some time off next weekend.
Today I officially chose an offer for my MA next year. York! I’m doing an English MA there next year, which looks really exciting and fun. Pretty scared by it but fingers crossed everyone will be nice! I got a great grade on my Cancer book for children which I posted up here, and I’ll be pursuing that in the near future.
I’ll be doing volunteering with Kneehigh for 5 weeks July/August on their Asylum project, and some archiving experience in the Cornish Theatre archive simultaneously. Then in September I’m planning a trip to New York, which I will be flat broke for! Hopefully I can time it so I can see some good gigs. Suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
Looking forward to seeing Inception….
Yes, I know. It’s been a while. This has been the biggest gap between posts I’ve let happen since I started it. I’ve been feeling rather guilty about it. I’ve just started full time work and had a massive upheaval in my life. This year has been about upheavals. Who came up with that word? I’m currently waiting for my results so I can find out where I’m going next year. So, as I have the morning off I have produced a series of minature reviews…
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
It was my second book I read after I finished over a week ago and I couldn’t put it down, even though it belongs in the 9-12 year old age group I really enjoyed it. The way each chapter is a story makes me think it’d be great to read with a child. But they all ran away when I approached them… Lots of great characters and it really investigates how dead people in a graveyard would organise their society!
Skullduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy
Fairly traditional fantasy style story given a great twist by one of the principal characters being the skeleton of long dead sorcerer. Great main characters (especially since one of them is called Stephanie). Lots of action and fast plot! Good read.
Four Lions
Awesome. Awesome. But so wrong. So so wrong. Some brilliant quotes. It was highly uncomfortable towards the end but everyone in the cinema was laughing very loudly, as was I. When I left I felt strangely complicit and guilty for enjoying it so much. There were some bits which didn’t quite hold together maybe (the disney analogies and the family life), but most of it was brilliant
Luther
Crikey. That ended fast. The whole series was only six episodes long but I really enjoyed it. Some of the things that happened were just ludicrous, but Idris Elba was brilliant as Luther and I really felt for him! The whole series was a bit like Wallander meets Waking the Dead, lots of emotion and sub plots that massively affect the main story line, along with brutal murders. My god there were some disturbing moments. The man who abducted women for their blood was by far the most terrifying, though the man who murdered women and gave their jewellery to his wife was also fairly spine chilling. I hope they do another series!
In other news I watched My Neighbour Totoro abnd thought it was lovely, read The Handmaid’s Tale which was powerful and unnerving, gave up on a book called The Affinity Bridge, and watched the brilliant penultimate episode of Glee. I admit it, I do like Glee. I can’t help myself.
I’m down in Cornwall until the end of August now as I’ll be volunteering with Kneehigh for the whole of their run at the Asylum, which makes me happy but also a bit sad because I won’t be spending much time in Bristol this summer. Joe and I are writing some easily filmable scripts which look like they should be fun, and I am planning to go to New York in september and visit him. Exciting. I hope you are enjoying the beginning of summer.
Filed under: Uncategorized
… the answering machine of Stephanie. She will be out of the office until Friday.
Please leave a message after the beep.
Beep.
Filed under: Non-Fiction
Here is a nearly final draft of the first 2,000 words of my children’s book about cancer. Please comment! Especially if you aren’t clear on anything, find anything that is inaccurate or glazes over too much, or if you aren’t clear what age group its aimed at. Or if you’re offended. Or if you like it. Or if you think of a title or if you think of any good picture ideas! P.S. All the stuff in between square brackets are ideas for pictures! And the final 500 words is the synopsis of the whole book.
Cancer. Bleurgh. Yuk. Yuk. YUK.
I don’t know why you’ve picked up this book, maybe it’s because someone you know (relatives, family, friends, friends of friends or even you) has got cancer. Maybe you’re confused by all the information everywhere, the headlines in newspapers that scream ‘STRAWBERRIES GIVE YOU CANCER’ or ‘GUINEA PIGS CURE CANCER’. I am. Because whatever they’re saying right now they’ll probably be saying the opposite in a month. And personally I don’t want to be eating strawberries one week and rubbing guinea pigs on my face the next.
[Picture of someone eating strawberries and rubbing guinea pigs on their face, there are people sat next to them staring in disgust.]
Maybe the reason is that the doctors you’ve met seem to be talking an alien language (however nice they are, they all do it sometimes). And maybe your parents just aren’t very good at translating. I mean how can adults expect someone to know what the difference is between chemotherapy and radiotherapy without being told first? It’d be like doing a crossword in Russian.
[Picture of a doctor talking medical jargon: ‘Metacarpals, tendonitis, chemotherapy, radiotherapy.]
Not to mention some of the names are more than little misleading. I bet most adults have no idea what C.T. scans or MRI scans are.
| Just in case you want to impress the lollipop lady an MRI stands for magnetic resonance imaging (Nope, me neither). It’s similar to an x-ray but it shows up all the soft stuff, like muscles, fat and skin, or the ‘soft tissues’ as doctors like to call them. |
[‘These are the soft tissues’ one doctor says to the other. The other box is marked hard tissues, they are made of granite.]
Chapter Two: What is Cancer?
Right, down to the gritty stuff. What is cancer?
Is it contagious?
No. Though there is one kind in Tasmanian devils that is. Fortunately we can’t get it. It’s still not a good idea to kiss them though.
Is it an alien life form?
Well… sometimes your body sees it that way. But technically… no.
The most simple explanation is that it’s all about cells: our bodies are made up of millions of cells that do thousands of different jobs. Inside each cell is a nucleus, which is kind of like a really simple brain and they contain genes. Doctors often call it the genetic code because it’s the instructions that tell the cell exactly what it has to do and when. It can tell the cell to divide into two, to self destruct or to sleep for years. It’s the mastermind behind the whole operation.
When people describe cells they usually talk about walls, how each cell is a brick in the wall that is your body(?!). Maybe they are like bricks… if bricks were of varying shapes and sizes and could do jobs like attacking bacteria or producing snot, rather than just holding up the roof of your house.
[Picture of man opening his shirt to show bricks. He is a terrified.]
The main thing to remember is that cancer cells aren’t special evil cells whose parents never loved them, they’re just normal cells. That’s why it’s weird when people talk about fighting cancer, because technically its part of your body so you’d be fighting yourself. And someone beating themselves up over cancer isn’t really going to help matters.
Cancer happens when the genetic code gets a mistake in it. Like when you’re making a cake and you’ve copied the ingredients out wrong. Or when you dial a wrong phone number and end up talking to a confused Australian. Occasionally this mistake will cause the cell to begin reproducing and dividing to make more cells, kind of like a broken photocopier. In most cancers these form a lump which is called a tumour (the cells, not the photocopies), and this is where the trouble starts.
Cancer from different types of cells each grow differently, I don’t mean one makes giraffe shapes and one makes stars. It’s that they grow at various speeds and affect that particular part of the body in different ways. In fact there are so many types of cancer that affect you in so many different ways, that I wonder how doctors can put it all under one name. For example brain tumours can really affect your behaviour because (if you’re anything like me) your head is full of smart brain sludge, so there isn’t really room for anything else.
By now you’re probably starting to feel paranoid about whether you or someone you know has cancer. I know that I used to panic. Whenever I had a bad headache I used to think I had a brain tumour, and whenever I got indigestion I’d be convinced I was having a heart attack.
[Picture of girl sprawled on the floor dramatically, she’s saying ‘I’ve definitely got cancer!’ People raise their eyebrows at her.]
People are always saying ‘Oooh Tracey, one in three people gets cancer you know!’ Which sounds terrifying! But you have to remember it’s just a statistic not a fact.
[A picture of three people all pointing at each other: ‘Bagsy not me!’]
Statistics are just a guesstimate from information in the recent past. There are special people called statisticians who work things like this out and even they admit that statistics are just educated guesswork. Plus the full statistic in this case is ‘one in three people get cancer at some point during their lifetime’. Almost three quarters of cancer happens to people over sixty five, and the statistic also puts all of the really nasty cancers in with the less threatening, easily treatable ones. Statistics are not any kind guarantee that something will happen, I mean look at how many people win the lottery. You’re statistically more likely to be hit by a meteorite then hit the jackpot. So next time someone comes at you with a statistic as part of their argument you can shoot their educated guesswork out of the water.
Here are some silly statistics:
The British drink 65 million cups of tea a day, so every man, woman and child drinks three cups each.[1]
On average ‘people in Southampton have the worst breath, while those in Birmingham have the best.’
‘A 2008 survey found that while on the toilet: 39% of people read, 21% of people text, and 21% of people talk (on the phone or to a family member).’[2]
Do any of these apply to you? Really?
Chapter Three: What causes cancer?
The big question that confuses scientists, as well as all us other people, is what causes cancer? People are always saying different things do this and that, but apart from a few really extreme examples (like nuclear radiation) there is no single cause of cancer. It’s not like a detective programme where a detective comes in and explains ‘the butler did it with this shoe!’ or ‘too much fine French cheese’. If Sherlock Holmes had to list all of things that may have caused the cancer then he’d have been talking for weeks.
[Sherlock Holmes lectures Watson on what caused the cancer: ‘There is no one culprit, we must arrest everyone and everything or no one at all! Grab that orange!’]
There are some things which have been proven to raise the risks of getting cancer, but even then, nothing’s certain. There’s been a bit of a kerfuffle around these things called carcinogens recently, but scientists are still unsure. Smoking is the big one; there have been loads of studies that suggest smoking makes it much more likely you’ll get lung cancer. There’s also a higher chance of certain cancers if you drink lots of alcohol. But most other stuff is only linked very loosely or is a banned substance like asbestos, which you shouldn’t come across anywhere.
There are a few cancers which are more likely if someone in your family’s had them, like breast cancer and bowel cancer (that’s your large intestines). But the genes that cause this often do other really good things, and they don’t make a huge amount of difference in the likelihood of you getting it. Doctors call it genetic predisposition, but it doesn’t just refer to cancer, if your dad can roll his tongue, then it means you are ‘genetically predisposed’ towards being able to roll your tongue too. That’s because it’s an inherited skill.
Of course, if you are genetically predisposed towards getting a certain type of cancer, then really it means that the doctors will keep an extra eye on you. You’ll get regular check-ups throughout your life, so they would be much more likely to catch it early on. And the earlier they catch it, the more easier it is to treat.
[Doctor watches patient with his third eye. The patient looks a bit freaked out.]
Chapter Four: Symptoms
How do you tell if someone’s got cancer?
Well, sometimes the lump is visible (like with skin cancer) or it can be felt, so it’s much easier to keep an eye out for those ones. It’s much more difficult to tell if it’s on the inside, but sometimes it’ll be accompanied by a lot of pain. Pain being your body’s message to your brain to stop touching that light bulb or hugging that pointy stick! But if this happens it’s not just paper cut pain: it’s the kind where your body is screaming ‘CODE RED ALERT’, so you’ll definitely know that something’s wrong. So in an odd way… pain is good… did I just say that?
Sometimes it’ll be a cold that doesn’t go away for months; my Gran had a cough that hung around for six months and my Uncle had a sore throat for almost a year before they were diagnosed. Things like permanent tiredness, being out of breath, feeling dizzy, or having a fever for a long time are sometimes other symptoms. Each kind of cancer will have different effects on your body, so there’s no easy way to be sure, but these are the sort of things people go see doctors about anyway. They’re definitely out of the ordinary when they last over a month (if ‘symptoms persist’, if you’re being clever), but often they turn out to be a virus or a cold. In these cases the doctor will give you some wonderful antibiotics. It’s only sometimes that it’s more serious and will be diagnosed as cancer.
It’s in brain tumours that the really dramatic stuff happens: they can cause fits where someone has never had any before or really nasty headaches that keep coming back. Again, most people go to a doctor, or even the hospital, when changes like this happen. They’re not little symptoms; they’re big warning messages with flashing lights and sirens.
Diagnosis: Cancer?
Diagnosing cancer can be a long process, doctors try to be as quick as they can but some tests can take weeks. Depending on your symptoms they’ll pick different tests and scans to try and work out what’s going on in your body. You might have an MRI (the magnetic resonance imaging, I mentioned earlier), or a C.T. scan where they move you back and forth through a giant ‘O’ to build up a complex 3D x-ray of your body. Or they might take a twenty four hour urine sample, which is where you have to collect all your wee in plastic bottles for a whole day. Yeuch.
They often do blood tests, which might make you feel a bit queasy, but under a microscope your blood can tell lots of stories about your body. Like fortune tellers reading tea leaves (but slightly more accurate!) doctors read the blood by:
[A fortune teller looks into her crystal ball: ‘I see your red blood cells levels are low!’]
- Doing a full blood count. This is where they count up all the red blood cells (that take oxygen around the body), the white blood cells (that fight infection) and the platelets (which clot the blood when you get a cut). The numbers tell them whether your bone marrow (the stuff in your bones that makes your blood cells) and immune system (the one that fights infections) are working properly.
- Checking your blood chemistry. By looking at the chemical levels closely doctors work out which organs or glands are overworking or not working enough, this can often point them straight to the problem!
- Then there is the blood culture, where microbiologists (people who study types of infection) study the blood to check for diseases, or even past illnesses. Because some types (like mumps) can make certain types of cancer a little more likely.
[‘Do the test tube shake!’ Two doctors shake test tubes and dance wildly.]
Biopsies are another popular choice, if by popular I mean usual, and if by choice I mean that’s what the doctors choose. They’re really essential for deciding on how fast doctors need to act and what treatment is best. Because even though there are lots of types of cancer (like lung cancer, bone cancer) each tumour has to be investigated to see if it’s benign or malignant:
- Benign is the word for something that isn’t good or evil. It’s neutral (like Switzerland). Benign tumours don’t usually grow fast, and they can’t spread to other parts of your body. The only problems you can get from this type is if it gets too big, too ugly, or too uncomfortable. Sometimes they can put pressure on your important organs and make them behave differently. If this happens they can affect the way you act or the way your body works. They might make you tired, or grouchy, or need the loo all the time. They are still serious, but bit more annoying than dangerous.
- Malignant tumours are the more serious ones. The word ‘malignant’ means something is actively bad. Which is a bit of a weird thing to say about something that doesn’t have a brain. They usually grow faster, but they can also spread around your body. So someone with a malignant tumour is a lot more likely to get more tumours. If it does spread the doctors call the original tumour the primary one, and any other ones are called secondary ones.
Oddly, doctors also refer to these as ‘cancerous’ (a.k.a. malignant) or ‘non-cancerous’ (known to its friends as ‘benign’). Sometimes I think the people who invented these terms were just trying to confuse us.
| «««««««««« Did you know that laughter is great for your health? Not only does it relieve stress but it also boosts your immune system! In India some people are members of laughter clubs where they meet up just to laugh for hours. Maybe you could start a laughter club? It’s a great excuse to swap silly stories, impressions, jokes and such. Then if a grumpy person tells you to be quiet you can claim it’s ‘all in the name of good health!’«««««««««« |
[Laughing doctors: ‘And then they will be so confused! Mwhahaha!’]
[1] http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1208058/Eight-Brits-Tantalising-titbits-worlds-79th-largest-nation-us.html
[2] http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/products/charlie+croker/8+out+of+10+brits/6568097/
Filed under: Review
Thursday night I raced from work to the cinema to see Micmacs, the new film from Jeunet (Amelie, Delicatessen, City of Lost Children). I’d read the reviews: most of which had criticised it as a bit of meandering storyline and such, but all my friends who’d managed to catch it had said it was brilliant. So I went in with middling expectations, but as is the way, I sided with my friends and thoroughly loved it!
Micmacs is somewhere in the middle ground between the sweetness of Amelie, the darkness in Delicatessen and the righteousness of your average liberal eco-ethical angry person. The sort of person for whom protesting is an art of breaking no nasty laws and simultaneously causing as much difficulty and annoyance as possible. I’m not going to give the story away but the film is great! There are some minor inconsistencies in the reality of what would have happened had anyone actually done all these things, but as a viewer I was thoroughly in agreement with their vigilante manner of justice. The characters were lovely, the props and gadgets were beautiful and the face of the security guard whilst doing some naughty peeping was something that will come back to haunt in my in my nightmares. Jeunet produces cinema with beautiful small details, these tiny touches tell their own stories within the plot. As with many of Jeunet’s films very theatrical with its focus on the body as a physical, lusting object. Something which is sanitized in most of the films you’d see in a cinema these days (I’m not talking about obligatory sex scenes, but rather the physical limitations and possibilities of the human body). If someone ever made a theatrical version I wonder how much they would really have to change.
Disharmony appears in the disturbingly real characters of one of the arms producers (not the one who owns Churchill’s nail clippings), who shouts at his son, lives in a soulless house with an army of posh cars, bullies people and suffers from anger issues. As well as the arms dealers who are planning a coup, their behaviour is so real and disturbing that I felt very uncomfortable. At first I thought this was an inconsistency in the narrative but I think it could be read that the real world couldn’t help but have encroached into Jeunet’s fantastical world. The worlds of Amelie and Delicatessen are small (sometimes threatening) but always confined within their own carefully constructed spheres, Micmacs seems to accept that these small bubbles are now being transgressed through technology, and that Paris is a world city: simultaneously local France and a focus-point of France’s greater world power. I think this film can be enjoyed on many levels, whether just as a wonderful adventure tale or as a deeper criticism of captalism. If you get the chance rent this on DVD and have your imaginations stimulated, your heart warmed and your thoughts provoked.
Filed under: Musings
My grandmother died this week. She’s had cancer since last September and I didn’t go see her. I mean there were factors out of my control, like the fact I was working full time, I kept having nasty colds, and I’m in third year of university. But really I could have rung more. I planned to see her in Easter but she went into hospital while on holiday in NZ. The family were very supportive, especially the ones out there. Several of them flew out from the UK and gave as much time as they could just being good company and providing support for my gran and each other. I stayed here, and then before my mum returned I came back to uni so the whole thing has been communicated mainly by email and phone. It’s odd to deal with something that’s just a passed on message, plus she’d never been a day-to-day part my life, so I think it’s going to be a while before I stop thinking ‘I wonder when we’re going to Blackpool’ or ‘When’s Gran coming to visit with her boyfriend’. And just like that the oldest generation has gone from the family.
Important people are disappearing from my life every day and I keep missing opportunities. This year has been a little bit of a wake up call, a morse code message from the underworld: ‘stop pissing about!’. I’ve also realised how unlearned I am in the way of conversing at funerals. I’m in constant danger of saying the most inadequate, insipid things, things which probably come across as wholly inappropriate, and make my stomach churn to just remember them. I do think it is a learned ability, and I have the greatest admiration for my mother for being pragmatic, calm and collected. She spent a lot of time with my Gran this year, doing the four hour drive to Blackpool and supporting her through chemotherapy. Her demeanour is probably from years in hospital service… or perhaps from dealing with her melodramatic daughter, but she faces loss and still manages to find reasons for hope, without being indulgent or spiritual or dismissive. Which is really quite a skill. I look like her, and I sound like her on the phone, so maybe, maybe one day, I’ll be as capable and tactful as her.
(But it’s unlikely.)
Apologies for the soppy post. The cynic in me is making vomiting faces, but I felt a need to write it down and I thought here was as good as anywhere. It certainly wouldn’t have condensed into a good twitter.
Filed under: Uncategorized
This a warning post that I will be posting up some film reviews, and a doctor who review and some pictures of a cornish mine covered in bluebells and some creative work in the next week.
The films will include Micmacs (which is finally coming to Falmouth!), Repomen and Cemetery Junction. Mmm yeah. This is a good week for films and a bad week for essays.
