1. Doris, my computer:
I think my she's dying a slow and painful death and hates my dirty guts. I've been in a mad rush all week, looking for flash drives and trying to scrape the money together to buy a big enough external hard drive that I won't lose the past 3 years of my life. I'm kind of glad that I don't ever save my writing onto my actual hard drive and keep it on about 4 different flash drives, just in case.
2. I miss my literature stash :(
I've been staying with my uncle for the summer and working in the local supermarket (won't say which cos I don't want to be supermarket-ist) and I only brought five books with me. I didn't think being 122 miles away from them would be so hard, but it really has been. I never realised how regularly I'd think "ooo, I might have a read of my American poetry anthology" or just want to read a book. The only books I chucked into my suitcase were:
- Dubliners by James Joyce (I have to read it for Uni and it's short stories, so it's not something I can really get into).
- Mansfield Park by Jane Austen (i got freaked out by the first page because I started reading it on the train up to my uncles and something on the first page is very similar to the circumstances I was in that day)
- The Hours by Michael Cunningham (I really want to read it, but feel I should read Mrs Dalloway, which I also have to read for uni, before I read it. It's for uni too).
- Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (I tried reading it and it was too melodramatic for me)
- Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling (In preparation for when I got back to London and chill out at the premiere and perv over Rupert Grint and Emma Watson).
3. Side-effects of missing my literature stash:
I was looking after my 18 month year-old cousin on Friday and saw a Waterstones. The feeling at seeing it honestly must have been exactly what a person feels like when they're in the desert and see an Oasis. I practically bounced over there and raided the shelves, telling myself I was going to buy my mother a book, and ended up coming out with one book for her and two for me. I bought What we talk about when we talk about love by Raymond Carver and The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky.
4. “I just think it’s bad when a boy looks at a girl and thinks that the way he sees the girl is better than the girl actually is. And I think it’s bad when the most honest way a boy can look at a girl is through a camera.”
I honestly believe that The Perks Of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky is one of the most beautifully honest and insightful things I've ever read. My expectations of it when I picked it up on the top shelf of Waterstones and read it's back cover were completely wrong. It's a beautifully written novel in the most understated and wonderful way. At first, I wasn't sure if I was going to like it, and there are parts I'm not sure about now, but it's made me think and realise so many things in the mere hours that I spent reading it. There's a lot about growing up in there that's got me thinking. Charlie, the main character, is the most well written characters I've ever read. He's so heartbreaking and warming simultaneously. I never read a book twice, but I'm so tempted to read this one again. And I'm so happy that they're making a film, even happier that Stephen Chbosky is writing and directing it.
5. Wild Beasts
If I listen to "Hooting and Howling" one more time, it won't be enough. I keep singing it in my head. I bought the album from Amazon last night and I can't wait to listen to it, even though I'm pissed off that my friend accused me of only liking them because they were nominated for a Mercury award. If I liked music that way, I would have only just bought half the albums nominated instead of getting em all months ago. He's such a bastard about music. The other day he was asking me how I'd even heard about Boy & Bear because no one's ever heard of them. It was then that I had to remind him that I'd given him their single shortly after giving him Laura Marling's albums.
I went home sick from work on Saturday. I almost threw up on a lady buying ink cartridges. I have no idea what was wrong with me, just that I got straight into bed, swished down some pain killers and slept it off. Still feel a bit weird though...