i’ve been tagged by amity to do a writing meme, where i list five writing strengths.

this is hard. it makes me uncomfortable, this meme, because in spite of my love of writing, i definitely don’t think of myself as a writer, and i don’t often feel like i “write” here. this blog certainly isn’t substantial enough, weighty enough to qualify as “writing”. writing is a serious undertaking. writing involves angst, sturm und drang, great emotional upheaval. writing is the product of a compulsion to create, to give birth.

writing is what writers do – and i am not a writer.

so with that disclaimer out of the way, here’s the meme.

i don’t shy away from emotion. my best posts have a piece of my heart woven through them.

i bring the past into the present. i often feel the best way to illustrate the here and now is by delving into memory.

variety is the spice of life. sometimes i have long, rambling, deep thoughts – and sometimes it’s a flippant one-liner. like the box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get – and that keeps things interesting.

i overuse the underappreciated spaced en dash. really, my sentences just tend to run on, and so i use dashes to pretend it’s intentional – like so.

i’m unafraid to evolve in the public eye. reading my earliest blog posts just makes me cringe. of course, i didn’t imagine anyone actually read any of it then, so i didn’t take it seriously. some days, i still don’t. but knowing there are actual readers, real people out there, has made me stretch myself into something bigger and better than i thought i could be. and that’s made me a better “writer”. and on my trip last year, in my earnest desire to capture everything i was seeing and experiencing, i began something that may one day turn into a book, of sorts – if only just for me. maybe.

maybe i am a writer, after all.

feist – secret heart

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running this morning, 9 miles, perfect weather, nearly done and feeling good…tree root reaches out and grabs the toe of my shoe…

bam!  jen does a spectacular faceplant in the (thank god) dirt. there was some scary slow motion skidding towards a thick barrier post, but luckily friction stopped me before i smashed my head on it.

hands and knees now skinless, very dirty, very bloody. best running tights shredded (damn!). the only person who stopped to ask me if i was okay was an ambulance driver going past, who seemed very concerned, bless her.

long painful and humiliating walk all the way home. hot stinging bath to clean myself up.

and now i’m sitting here realising i landed on my knees harder than i first thought, as they are well bruised and aching like a mutherf*cker. no run for me tomorrow then. scabs and scars.

just need to dust off my pride now.

ben kweller – falling

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i love my combat boots. i’m currently breaking in a new pair because my old pair are so worn, the shoe nails are coming up through the inside of the heel, making them just a *little* uncomfortable. not bad, considering i’ve had them for four years.

i wear my combat boots everywhere. i wear them to management meetings, to concerts, to the grocery store, and would have happily worn them with my wedding dress if we weren’t married on a beach. i have learned that combat boots and sand don’t mix.

i have worn a pair of combats nearly 365 days a year, for the past 10 years. there’s just something about them that makes me feel comfortable and confident. no matter what else i may be wearing, no matter where i may be, they’re my “fuck the establishment” declaration. they are my signature accessory, and they make me happy.

but breaking them in sure is a bitch.

kirsty maccoll – in these shoes

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i’ve been quiet for a while.

my brain is fuzzy lately. last week i was too shattered to even think straight. this weekend i’ve been watching rugby, listening to new music, getting lost in facebook (god help me), recovering from long runs and nursing hangovers.

i sit down to write, and… i got nothing.

maybe next week.

john lennon – watching the wheels

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“Main Entry: jet lag
Function: noun
: a condition that is characterized by various psychological and physiological effects (as fatigue and irritability), occurs following long flight through several time zones, and probably results from disruption of circadian rhythms in the human body
- jet-lagged /’jet-”lagd/ adjective”

i was soooo smug, thinking i’d discovered the secret to conquering jet lag after having travelled through 24 time zones. i confidently told people, “you just have to power through the first day, force your body to adjust, show it who’s boss.”

ha. ha. ha. god was just *waiting* to smite me for my insouciant self-satisfaction. the past several days can only be characterised as the walking dead.

jet lag sucks.

that is all.

the beatles – i’m so tired

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it’s near midnight. the watery light of a full moon filters through a scrim of clouds, casting the border of trees into black silhouette against the black sky. the asphalt unfurls quietly beneath me in two flowing lines, curling, rising, then falling away again into nothingness beyond. a familiar refrain begins – delicately at first, then intensifying in a confidently smooth ascent. the music swells, lifting me along on its wave, and i feel the pedal being instinctively pulled, the highway rushing up to meet the insistent pulse, the building crescendo, the chest-thumping bass line, the driving crash of sound. suddenly i’m flying as sure as if i have wings, soaring into the night, being lifted heavenward, transported in a sublime confluence of melody and speed.

damn, i love driving.

u2 – where the streets have no name

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i got my first professional hair colour yesterday. i’ve dyed my hair every shade of the rainbow since i was 19, and never before paid someone to do it for me. unfortunately the greys are coming in fast and furious (thanks dad!) and the box stuff just isn’t covering them any more. my one real vanity – i hate looking older than i feel.

i don’t know why i was so nervous, going into the salon. i used to be a lot more adventurous with my hair, changing it on a whim without a care, even after some spectacular disasters (i once had to walk around for a whole day with unintentionally green hair). i’ve had it cropped and platinum, black and bobbed, red and blue striped. for the past few years, though, i’ve stuck pretty solidly to long and red, with a brief bob dalliance in between.

perhaps it’s a side effect of growing older, this newfound hesitance. all through my twenties, my motto was, “it’s only hair, it grows back”. these days it seems i’m less willing to risk having to live with a mistake. i’ve never been timid with my hair before.

which is why, when i got my hair done yesterday, i had this sudden impulse to say “fuck it”. yep, it’s even brighter in person. i love it.

stars – ageless beauty

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(public service announcement: i’m off to the states for two weeks starting tomorrow, so blogging may be light. if i don’t check in between now and then, have a wonderful bank holiday, and see y’all on the other side.)

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“The carcass lay on his path. He stopped, sniffed, stalked round it, brother, nosing closer, went round it, sniffing rapidly like a dog all over the dead dog’s bedraggled fell. Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on the ground, moves to one great goal. Ah, poor dogsbody. Here lies poor dogsbody’s body.”

from “Ulysses”, james joyce (and no, i haven’t finished it yet)

i hate my job.

i don’t even care if they see this, that’s how much i hate it.

(for my u.s. readers: dogsbody)

spoon – the underdog

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“and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth, recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.”

pablo neruda – from “ode to tomatoes”

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so i bought my fancy camera from amazon.co.uk on thursday. it arrived on saturday. on sunday i discovered something was wrong with it. on monday i sent them an email. tuesday morning i had a replacement in my hands.

not too shabby.

more playing around… (yes, i realise these are interesting to no one but me… but j won’t let me near him with the camera again )

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new camera!

tester shots – very pleased.

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so i bet you’re all wondering, “what ever happened to that citizenship lark?”

bloody good question, i might add.

well, so it would seem that there were a *lot* of applications submitted before the deadline for the fee increases, and mine was one of zillions. so i submitted it back at the end of march, finally got acknowledgement that they’d received it the first week of may… and have been trying to put it out of my mind ever since, with little to no success.

three months seems to be my limit because by monday i just couldn’t take it any more. so i rang up the home office’s nationality hotline, who helpfully told me that they’d just made a decision on my application, and that i should be hearing in a few days. they *unhelpfully* were unable to give me any hints as to what that decision might be.

and of course, with the rolling royal mail strikes and ensuing postal backlog (which could take weeks to clear), i’ll be lucky to get anything before i leave for my trip to the states.

i wish i’d never even called and just continued on in blissful ignorance! this must be god’s way of torturing me.

pj harvey – hardly wait

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hung out with kim and andy last night, having dinner and drinks. we ordered in scrummy sushi for dinner – and that, right there, is one of the reasons i will always be a city girl. i mean fresh sushi arriving at your doorstep in 20 minutes? life just doesn’t get much better than that, and i don’t think i want to live in a world where there is no sushi delivery. it would be bleak and devoid of meaning.

seems we always tend to overindulge when hanging out with them, as our drinks are always kept refilled and cold bottles of beer arrive in front of you, as if by magic. i was trying ever so hard to be good, as i knew i was scheduled to go for a long run this morning. but then there was this shot of tequila handed to me…

so i shouldn’t have been surprised to wake up with a migraine at 7 am. by 11, after 8 ibuprofen, 2 paracetamol with codeine, and a healthy dose of procrastination, i headed out the door.

running is the best hangover cure i’ve ever found, but it is still a special hell unto itself. i slogged through 12.5 miles, and managed to purge the alcohol from my system, but arrived back home wrung out and dehydrated, and ravenous. one of the things about running distances is that you’re starving and parched when you’re done, but the *last* thing you should do is eat or drink large quantities of anything. your stomach shrinks when you’re running, as your body diverts blood to more important areas, (like the heart and lungs) so eating or drinking too soon after will make you physically ill.

which is exactly what i managed to forget. so after having a bagel and a large glass of juice, i was in agony, and ended up vomiting it right back up. which brought back my headache. and spent the next couple of hours on the couch, writhing and seeing stars.

good times, good times. i blame kim and andy

samiam – are you alright

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i dragged it out for as long as i could… but harry potter is finally finished.

it was wonderfully delicious escapism while it lasted, and it was sheer bliss to open a fresh new book and plunge headlong into the kind of voraciously joyful reading where you willingly give your entire heart and mind over to the story and let it carry you along for the entire vicarious ride.

magical.

and yeah, i know they’re children’s books – i don’t care. i haven’t had that much fun reading since i was a kid and it was a special thrill to be able to recapture that feeling of pure adventure.

spoon – the book i write

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my siblings have been checking in on me the past day or so, wondering about the extensive flooding and making sure i’m okay.

fortunately, the extent of my inconvenience has been having my tube station temporarily closed for a few hours the other day. i live in a large block of flats on the 4th floor (5th for you americans) so we’re high and dry. but our friends were not so lucky, with their whole back garden and half their street submerged.

when i was in high school, i was hanging out at my friend nathaly’s house after school on afternoon when there were flash floods. nathaly’s house was next to the brook which ran through the lowest area of an otherwise very hilly city. as the water began rising to the top of her basement, we were rather scared, not knowing what to do. and then the floods ended as quickly as they had begun, leaving her backyard under enough water to submerge the fencing separating her property from the neighbours. eventually my dad came by with a canoe, and we canoed around her whole street, laughing at the lunacy of it all. unfortunately it turned out that her oil heater in the basement had tipped over, making her house uninhabitable for weeks and ruining a lot of personal effects. no longer very funny.

since then i’ve had a whole new respect for floods.

these poor people in gloucestershire have had a whole world of water

feist – the water

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we made a pilgrimage to the big superstore supermarket for groceries today…

and i found fluff!

and pretzles!

which means i was able to have one of my all time favourite snacks ever – pretzles dipped in fluff!

yes, i know i’m disgusting – i don’t care. i’m in fluff heaven…

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via NobleSavage – an expat meme!

5) Name five things you love in your new country

* The exchange rate
* Proximity to mainland Europe
* Beer
* National health care
* 20 days minimum annual leave

4) Name four things you miss from your native country

* Driving
* Big varied salads
* Sand beaches
* Proximity to nature

3) Name three things that annoy you in your new country

* Lack of privacy rights
* Tiny, inefficient appliances
* Inept public transportation

2) Name two things that surprise you (or surprised you when you arrived) in your new country

* CCTV everywhere
* Public’s acceptance of poor services

1) Name one thing you would miss in your new country if you had to leave

* Pub culture

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since we moved into this flat with no possessions, up until now we’ve been using our friend’s television on indefinite loan. modestly sized, unobtrusive, not the focal point of the room. i really liked it.

now, however, we have to give it back. and honestly? there are a lot of things i’d want to spend £250 on, but a television isn’t one of them. so, like the cheapskates we are, we went second-hand shopping. j nearly peed himself with excitement when we came across an ad for a widescreen tv for £50.

and now *this* monstrosity is sitting in our living room, much to my chagrin.

let’s just say i don’t think i’ll need to perform any sexual favours from now until the end of the year.

the arcade fire – (antichrist television blues)

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at the festival this weekend there was a holistic therapy tent for massage, reflexology, etc., and as friends have been urging me to for some time, i decided to finally get some osteopathic treatment for my tmj.

i’ve had this stupid tmj for close to two years now, and i can’t begin to explain how dramatic an impact it can have on daily life. it’s a deep, intensely painful ache at my jaw muscle that starts out feeling like i’ve chewed a piece of gum for far too long, then radiates into my shoulders and back, or turns into a blinding headache. the pain makes me feel overly conscious of my mouth and muscles – like i’m “holding” my jaw funny, which in turn causes more pain, which cause me to hold it even more awkwardly. it interferes with sleep, concentration and mood. it comes and goes for a few weeks or months at a time, and according to my dentist, usually comes from grinding one’s teeth at night, due to stress. while i know i don’t grind, i’ve been told i probably clench my teeth in my sleep, and been fitted for an expensive bite guard to wear at bedtime. and even though this first flared up at a decidedly unstressful time in my life, i wore that guard religiously for six months. it did exactly diddley-squat.

the funny thing is, while i was initially adamant that i was not stressed or uptight, the pain completely disappeared whilst we were travelling. and returned almost instantly with my return to work.

so even though it hasn’t flared up recently, i decided to see an osteopath while one was right in front of me. she looked at my posture, felt my back and shoulder muscles, popped my spine, and relaxed my neck before getting to work on my jaw.

and wow. the amount of pressure she had to exert on my jaw muscles to work at loosening them up almost made me cry. not only because it hurt like a sumnabitch, but also because it was painfully obvious i’d been completely oblivious to the amount of tension i’ve been carrying around. this weight and sadness and exhaustion and dread, all set in my jaw like concrete. i’ve been *enduring* at my job for so long now, that i’ve come to accept this feeling of oppression as part of my normal state of being, and it’s only my body which is trying to tell me what my mind has refused to acknowledge. i’m not happy at work – and it’s hurting me.

she worked so hard at relaxing my jaw. by the time she was done, it was like putty.

and i think she’d dread to know that all her wonderful effort was undone by the end of today, as i sat rubbing my tender face with the palms of my hands.

red hot chili peppers – taste the pain

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the folk festival was lovely – just chilled out, well… folksy type fun. unfortunately j took the camera with him to south africa, so no photos.

it didn’t rain a drop, hallelujah and praise jesus. no small miracle, considering it has rained non-stop for nearly a month now, and i was completely prepared for knee deep mud. it was, however, extremely chilly whenever the sun dipped behind the clouds. so much so that i had not a single thought for sunscreen and as a result ended up with a big, bright pink raccoon burn plastered across my cheeks, forehead and nose.

but there was free-flowing beer, dry skies, great friends and surprisingly good music. you really can’t go wrong. and there’s something about that first cup of coffee made over a camp stove, with dew at your feet, early rays rising above a field of sheep, huddled into the depths of a thick jumper, and a cool breeze of high clouds drifting past, that makes it taste like no other coffee on earth.

and maybe it was the alcohol and fairy lights deep in the night, but i was quite taken by this james yuill guy (though i admit his stage act is reminded me of a scene from napoleon dynamite). here’s a taste – very “the postal service” influenced.

James Yuill – How Could I Lose

James Yuill – This Sweet Love

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Kid #3: My Mommy says smoking kills.
Nick Naylor: Oh, is your Mommy a doctor?
Kid #3: No.
Nick Naylor: A scientific researcher of some kind?
Kid #3: No.
Nick Naylor: Well then she’s hardly a credible expert, is she?

“thank you for smoking”

2 years nicotine free today. i admit, i’m really proud of myself. having once been quit for 7 years before and fallen right back into a pack-a-day habit, i was afraid i’d never really be able to quit permanently (again).

and now i know i have. my name jen, and i am an ex-smoker.

(and also: j is six months smoke free… and a lot nicer to kiss these days )

ben lee – cigarettes will kill you

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