Monday, December 7, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sometimes I find myself wishing I had someone to come home to...
Perhaps the type of someone who would great me with a gentle purr, and a rub up against my legs. Someone who would appreciate a nice bowl of milk, and who would curl up with me.
Check out this flickr account. He's an acquaintance of mine, and an absolutely brilliant photographer
Alas, this cannot happen. I cannot take a kitty back and forth across the pond.
at 1:41 PM
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
I realize I have been lax in posting, and I would put the blame on too much work, but I know many of you lead lives that are just as, if not more, busy as mine. Truthfully I lack the inspiration and the skill to be a full time blogger. I prefer to lurk around (in the least creepiest way possible), and read each of your beautiful and diverse blogs.
I sense the time is drawing near where I shall have to emerge from the hazy world of dreams I have occupied thus far in my life. Although I have a lovely older sister, I often lead the childhood of only child. My refuge has always been the stories that have inhabited my head since before I can remember. Now life decisions are invading this solitary and quiet peace of mind.
I thought I was going to end up in Paris next year. My friends warned me I would be lonely... but if you had to be depressed, what better place than old Paris, non?
I met with the head of my department today. Apparently, I should instead be headed for the city where castles seem to float miraculously on the water. A city linked by canals, this Venice of the North. Yet St. Petersburg does not draw me in for some reason. I wonder why.
I wish there were more options than those I see people around me making. I still want the option to be "anything I want to when I grow up." I haven't found anything that entices me, so am I allowed to keep looking?
at 8:55 AM
Saturday, October 17, 2009
The autumn roads are long and chilly
The professor always loved to play on his baby grand... and continues to do so today, 100 years after his death.
No need to look so alarmed! Most of the ghosts here are harmless. Can you hear a pitter-patter of little feet upstairs? Perhaps a small giggle catches your ear?
That's just Clara, who haunts the top floor. Would you like to meet her?
I'll take you up the back way, up the servants stairs...
Don't mind the scratches on the wall... They've been there a long time...
Can you hear Clara calling? She's just past the corner up ahead.
Ahh, there she is! Can you see her there in the mirror? She's quite shy, so you should feel honored if she's let you see her.
Just don't go in to the tower in the southern wing. Suicide Tower, as it's known, is home to a most unfriendly ghost.
Poor Mary, her heart would not mend
So she chose a rather dreadful end.
Wait?! You're leaving already?? Oh, dear, I hope we didn't scare you.
Have a Happy Halloween! Do come back soon! We'll be waiting for you, my dears...
at 7:58 AM
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
My lovelies! How I've missed you! Well, to be honest, I have still been trying to read all of your blogs, even if I don't comment on them... though some days I don't even get through all of them. Oh what uni does to my time and ability to concentrate! But, unfortunately, I think I will be in school for many many more years to come [I just want to learn everything! Why do I have to choose between arts and science subjects?] so I mustn't grumble. And I'm really happy to be back doing Russian, even if my other subjects don't pique my interest as much as I hope they will.
Major thing I've learned so far this year? As pretty as it may make my waist, a corset should not be worn on days when I have to traipse all over town to classes with a nasty head cold. I quite understand how women used to faint from them - I just wish I could rely on some handy lad coming to my rescue like they do in all the Victorian sketches. They were probably just used to women dropping like flies, so I suppose you developed quick reflexes? My guy friends here, however, probably have no idea what a corset is, and would wonder what I was doing lying on the floor all of a sudden.
Which brings me to my main point: I am so glad
that I've found all of your wonderful blogs where you proudly parade vintage finery, styles, and ideas of how to live. It empowers me everyday not to give in to jeans and a t-shirt (eww!), and to not care a lick about what people think of me. Yet, sometimes, it does get me down. I live in a very small town in the UK, where I am looked at like some curious oddity - and this is even when I don't go full out vintage. What do you, my dear readers, do when life gets you down like this? I've ordered a typewriter off Etsy from Snogirl [go visit-she's a doll], and trying to explain why I wanted one was like banging my head against a brick wall.
And I HATE it when people say: "Oh my God! You're sooo cute!"
Perhaps I'll run away and join a circus - I'll be the Russian speaking - contortionist - burlesque dancer all decked out in steampunk jewelry and clothes.
Hey, it could happen.... maybe.
P.s. the typewriter is a skywriter by smith-corona, developed when mass air travel started becoming a possibility. Can you imagine everyone taking out their typewriters instead of laptops nowadays?
at 5:23 AM
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
...I just dropped off the edge, if you hadn't noticed -->
And now, having clawed my way back to the blogging world, I've gotten knocked back by an episode of freshers' flu!
What the heck am I talking about?
Well, I have now completed my biannual jump over to the other side of the world, to get back to my uni in scotland. I know many of you have had your own moves to do this summer, both great and small, so you'll know how crazy it is to pick up your entire life and settled down elsewhere. I never get used to it... I swear I was in a state of "almost un-packed" all year last year. There is, at least on my end, a temptation to make everything perfect from the get go, and then nothing happens at all.
To make matters worse, I got here early to help move in the freshmen [or "freshers" as we call them]. It's lots of fun, and my liver is absolutely trashed due to the free vodka bars we host as a hall
[it's all legal, don't worry!]. However, I've spent so much time running around that I've neglected my own room.
I've also contacted the dreaded freshers' flu: a nasty result of collecting a large amount of people and their germs into a small environment, and making sure no one gets any sleep.
This is the point when I wish I was still a little girl and had my mum to take care of me like this little girl! What do all of you do for getting over nasty colds? I can't tell what's worse, my cold, or the rain!
Anyways, not meaning to bore you all, just wanted to say hi, and that reading all your posts in the few spare minutes I have brightens my stressful days! Thank you gals!
at 12:13 PM
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
A nice cup of tea is to us English, what vodka is to the Russians: a concoction imbued with magical healing powers. As I sit watching the steam rise from my cup in random but enchanting spirals, I think of the joke I have with my mother. According to her, absolutely ANYTHING can be solved with a nice cup of tea.
Feeling downtrodden? Have some tea!
Broke your leg? Have some tea!
Someone decapitated you? Have some tea! [I swear she'd figure out a way]
The steam feel nice on my hands, which are dry and cracked from scrubbing the heck out of my kitchen floor with soft scrub. I'm not a clean freak, but I do like to do chores where there is an actual physical difference afterwards... vacuuming, although it removes the dog hair from the carpet, fails to make the carpet look better, as the dog is the same color as it. Washing off grubby footprints, however, is nice - visual proof of work. Does this make me very OCD, or is there anyone with my on this?
Unfortunately, I had a pretty horrible night last night. A night where I consistently ignored the reasonable side of my brain. One of my best friends convinced me, against my better judgment [including an approaching migraine], to join her at a party at her uni last minute. It was the last time I'd get to see her before Christmas, and, as I said, she's one of my besties... yet...
To say I don't trust her is both completely truthful, and an utter falsehood. I trust her intentions. However, she has a habit of not thinking things through. Long story short, she decided last night was the perfect night to get together with a guy she had her sights on for some time... I would have no problem with this, apart from the fact that I was left rather stranded. Although she finally realized and came back to find me, I had to have my lovely sister pick me up [she's an angel!]. Then I had to have my parents pick me up from my sis' in the morning, and drive figure out a way to get all my stuff and car back [including very time important meds... oops].
But now I sit here, cradling my cup of soothing tea, my panic and hurt seem less important than they did last night. It honestly wasn't surprising that it turned out that way. It just reminds me of a of couple things... you can't always rely on others to be reliable; my family is always there for me, even when I've been stupid; and lastly, that a nice cup of tea really does help. It may not solve everything, but it gives [at least to any Brit] the ability to take a calming break and revitalizes us so we can face problems that previously seemed overwhelming. "Aww!"
"HANG ON..." you say. "But Friday Finds? Wha?"
Well calm down, my dears. I just had to get that off my chest. Here's the real treasure: An old and crumbly Michelin Guide to Great Britain, give to me by a different bestie.
[Notice how I tied in friends and the UK into this! Clever, no?]
Probably the best part is the little notes written all over the pages... I haven't managed to work out the scrawl yet, and they don't photograph well, but I'm working on it. You can imagine someone planning out a entire UK holiday using this book many many years ago.
at 7:05 PM