I'm So Afraid

I was feeling quite guilty as November drew nearer and nearer, and I was still without a basic plot for NaNoWriMo. Alas, Sunday came and still I had absolutely nothing to write. I wanted to placate my self-loathing somehow, so I thought I would log onto ZU and start a useless little role play just so I could write without concerning myself with structure and plot.

I'm struggling here to say if it's changed a lot, or if it hasn't at all. In my time the OoC was a constant hotbed of activity, as it was now; I'm ashamed to admit that I spent 90% of my time in that thread instead of writing, but then again so did everyone else. This had never seemed a problem to me before (probably because I didn't care at all about writing), but it has become a big one now. I posted my story (which was in my opinion one of the easiest things to reply to in living memory) and was quite taken aback when nobody replied. I do have one comrade now, but I left it open to others and nothing came of it.

This disturbed me. When I joined ZU there was an open RP once in a blue moon, and when there was one people immediately sprang upon it. Now I can see a couple floating about totally unheeded. I don't want to brag, but my opening was well-written and I'm just quite shocked at the dilapidation of the place.

Of course, the OoC Thread is still buzzing on as it was: lightning-quick posts between the oh-so-cool clique of elite members, followed by a torrent of new members 'laughing' along at the various in-jokes; it was a bit disgusting to think that I was once groveling at the feet of Altamira, insanely et al. Once in, I decided to advertise my little RP (because everyone reads the OoC Thread), and nobody even made reference to it.

Distressing.

As I just about had one successful RP going, and craved more to sate my NaNoWriMo withdrawal, I then requested someone to send me a message concerning another prospective role play, which was once again ignored amongst a sea of irrelevant chat.

I also found it very unprofessional how the tournament that I had participated in was simply left half-finished to rot forever. Not pleased.

Overall, the BA (sorry, The Escapists' Haven) needs a serious overhaul. From what I've seen there really is nothing to appeal to anyone who is serious about writing, or indeed role playing of any kind.

What's more, I loathe Power Shot.

On another note, I'm reading Great Expectations. This novel fills me with squee from head to toe. Expect a full review in the near future.

Early Morning Blog Post Just Because I Can

I never know where to put the capital letters in my blog titles.

Anywho, I have to go to school in twenty minutes, but I just thought that I would check in with the dear old blog. I don't like how old my last post is.

I've been reading various classic, thought-provoking-type novels recently, so I was pleasantly surprised when I picked up a teenage novel last week. It was good. I'm not feeling the blog today. Bye bye.

Slumming It At The Beach

I've been having fun since Thursday. A few friends and I took the train up to the seaside and went to the beach and pushed each other and generally frolicked. In the evening we made melted Mars Bars that took so long to eat that we missed the train.

Which turned out to be a good thing (random new paragraph!). We went to Barry's, which is a massive amusements full of roller coasters and rides and things. Major fun. Then we got doughnuts and sat on the beach, watched the sunset. It turned out to be a rather lovely day indeed. 

There was another train around nine so my three friends got that and left me at the beach. I was going to stay at my friend's apartment, but apparently he didn't know that and he was quite surprised when I showed up at his door. But it was all cool. We went inside and watched 'The Beach', the second time this week I've seen that lovely, disturbing movie. 

Friday was terrific fun. We did nothing until the afternoon when we went to a sea pool called the Blue Pool. Back in the '30s or something there were diving boards and everything and the water was really deep, so I could jump in from really high up. I'm bad a gauging distances but I'm guessing it was about 25 feet. It turns out jumping from that height hurts quite a bit, but I still loved it. I was falling for about a second, but it felt all slow, the way everything does when you're exhilarated. Then, just before I hit the water, a streak of panic tore through me for about a millisecond. Should I have jumped? But it was always fun. I plummeted into the water really quickly, like a bullet, and then the water just grabbed my whole body and held me in place for a few seconds. I jumped lots of times because it was fun.

That night we went to the theatre and saw a play. It was a silly little farce about a robot and relationships and things. I enjoyed it.

Since I've been so busy I haven't had any time to read, but I DID dream about books. The first was about Les Miserables, and the West End cast were coming to my town to put on a special performance for a select audience. Unfortunately, they were late so we had to watch the animated cartoon (what?) instead. The second was about American Psycho and I was Patrick Bateman and I wasn't as buff as I had imagined. I think it means I'm insecure. Maybe.

That's all that's happened in the last few days of my life. I enjoyed them. Tomorrow I resign myself to a week at the caravan with my arthritic grandfather who does nothing. At least I'll get a lot of reading done.

Goodbye!

Assigned Summer Reading That I Didn't Know I Had

I don't think I like Pride & Prejudice. When you don't care about the protagonist (Elizabeth bores me to tears) I don't think you care about her marital struggles. We were made to read this in English Literature class and at first I was thrilled and I kept batting my hand, exclaiming, "OH, Mr. Bingley!" Then I started reading the book and it got rather tiresome. I'm some 100 or so pages through it now. 

I discovered tonight that I have to finish this book by September, and, after spending an hour or so poring over positive and negative reviews on Goodreads.com (which I recently bookmarked!) I have a feeling that PaP might get somewhat better. I can only hope. 

In other news, I finished 'American Psycho' by Bret Easton Ellis a few hours ago. I haven't written a review in ages and I'm in the mood. 

The first thing that struck me as I read the book is the protagonist's attention to detail. The book is written in the perspective of Patrick Bateman (our titular psychopath) and he pores over clothing, hair, drinks, designer labels, credit cards and a number of other material things and treats all of his creepy killings almost as little asides that break away from his 'real' life which involves nothing more strenous than making reservations at various upmarket restaurants. And there are lots of them. At first I was struck by this reversal of interest between the reader and Bateman, where we focus on the gruesomeness of the murders whilst he gets infuriated by asking to 'please hold' making reservations and talking to his vast number of girlfriends. Later it gets quite annoying.

Excerpt:

"He's wearing a linen suit by Canali Milano, a cotton shirt by Ike Behar, a silk tie by Bill Blass and cap-toed leather lace-ups from Brooks Brothers." 

In this particular scene Bateman begins by describing his friend Price; he then goes on to describe, in detail, what he and his two friends Van Patten and McDermott are wearing. For the first twenty pages I could bear it as it was making a point about the materialism and obsession with style that was nurtured by the prep generation, but after 380 pages I was ready to strangle Mr. Ellis. I began to skim through these descriptions of clothing just because they bored me to death, and if I'm being honest a lot of the book just goes round in a loop of girls, clothing and reservations. 

But it's interesting. As the novel progresses Bateman becomes more and more unable to quell his bloodlust (BUT THANK GOODNESS THE POLICE DID NOT INTERVENE I WOULD HAVE CUT SOMEONE IF IT HAD BECOME A CRIME NOVEL) and it was extremely interesting to see how he began to unwind and his friends didn't notice - didn't care. In one scene towards the end he calls a friend and completely confesses all of his grisly murders and the friend laughs, completely unwilling to burst the bubble of self-indulgent unreality that the entirety of Upper Manhattan is living in.

One thing I liked is that he has several chapters that go by the same name that allude to the tautology of Bateman's life. 

(I had another thing to say and I just forgot what it was.)

Oh! In several scenes throughout the novel Bateman is referred to by his friends and colleagues by different names, and Bateman, once again too afraid to cause a scene, simply goes along with it. This poses a question: are all of these people who they pretend to be, or is everyone just following a facade out of politeness? This question became another core element of the story when Bateman murders a colleague, then finds that said colleague has been seen in London, and that his friends have eaten with him. Who did he kill? Who is Paul Owen?

Unfortunately, some of the murder scenes in the novel are just disgusting. Prepare yourself for some disturbing stuff to happen. 

I'm to-ing and fro-ing a lot in this review. Overall, I really enjoyed American Psycho, but I think I'm enjoying it more now that it's over. It allows me to think about the main theme of the novel without wading through designer labels and lunch dates and parties and a million other things I don't care about. 

I'm reading my friend's novel next. And on Sunday I'm starting Les Miserables, which is my August reading project. I must say I'm rather excited.

Oh one more thing!

XOXO Gossip Girl

Not Going Through a Phase

I discovered today that I genuinely like surfing. Do you know how I know this?

Because surfing sucked today. 

It was absolutely freezing, my ankle was in pain and there were surfers everyone. They were looking angrily at me and I was getting in the way and I was all nervous because I didn't know where I was supposed to go. But I still really had fun. Which shows that I enjoy surfing.

This isn't a very good blog post. Oh well. I've also discovered the joys (and irks) of Facebook and I've become a little bit addicted. I've started taking lots of pictures of stuff and making lots of albums and talking to people and playing little games and writing on the walls and it is fun.

I think that's everything. Crap blog post. Bye!

I <3 Obsession

I really do love obsession. In fact, I'm obsessed with it. Right now, I'm obsessed with Tori Amos (who I'm very strongly considering dubbing my favourite artist ever) and I'm listening to her just about non-stop. I mean, really. I love her. At the moment I just have her greatest hits album (because I always buy greatest hits when listening to a new old artist) and it's fantastic. Once I've listened to every single song a million times and fallen in love with every single song I'm going to buy all of her albums in chronological order. Because there's nothing better than rediscovering a greatest hits song on an original album. It's like, "Wow! This song is a massive hit but they didn't know it at the time!" So squee for that.

For my imaginary readers who are interested, check out "Cornflake Girl", "Crucify" and "Spark". Life-changing.

Next obsession. My birthday is in four days (whoop whoop!) and I'm getting forty-three books.

Yeah.

But I'm happy about it because I know what 42 of them are so there's just the right amount of surprise. I'm also getting a pair of super-awesome earphones (which couldn't be more perfect because my exams start the next day which = oodles of iPod fun whilst I try to revise) so I'm seriously looking forward to listening to all my favourite songs in superb quality. 

I'm also currently obsessed with "Revolutionary Road", which is our review for this blog post. I must say that it is the number one most depressing novel that I've ever read, but I totally 100% love it. The way that Yates darts between the past (how things used to be), the future (how things could be), and the oh so INADEQUATE present is mind-blowing. The man is (was?) a genius. The characters are so real and he evokes such sadness from something as mundane as the suburbs. But that's how he does it. Everything is so fantastically quaint that it is "hopeless and empty", to quote Frank Wheeler.

Downside. I hate. HATE. April. The good news is that terrible things happen to her and they were all her fault. Frank, her husband, does the whole 'I have a dream' thing beautifully by contemplating and dreaming and ultimately STRIVING to meet the goal, while April sits around thinking about how things could get in the way and how she won't be happy without the dream and, really. She needs to adapt. 

I think I have to go now, but there are more obsessions. I've discovered a new love of blogging, so expect more frequent posts, dear imaginary reader.

XOXO Gossip Girl

Various Wonderful Things

It’s been a good few weeks. There was Easter (which was pleasantly uneventful) and then the first week of school, which, despite draining me to exhaustion point was quite fun. A few days ago I got the results of my music exam back, and I was relieved, to say the least.

After my horrific sight-reading and some other parts of the exam that I have forcefully removed from my memory, I was pleased to discover that I got 118. With 100 being a pass and 120 a merit, this wasn’t too shabby. I’m actually really happy with it because I know that if I improve my sight-reading everything will be shiny and wonderful. I also haven’t looked at my viola in weeks which makes me happy and…un-stressed.

So that’s one think to be thankful for. My first week of Easter was so fantastically easy and agreeable. It consisted of getting up at 9:30 every morning and going for coffee with some friend or another. Nights I stayed with a friend or just stayed at home shamelessly watching “Gossip Girl” (with more on that coming up).

Week Two was spent in Portrush where I took long walks on the beach and played dangerous amounts of '”The World Ends With You”. It’s a fantastic little DS RPG set in Tokyo’s coolest district – Shibuya. I would explain the whole story but you just have to play the game and let it unfold naturally. Let’s just say that I became very, very addicted. (For those that care this week was called ‘Week Two’ because that’s what they do in the game. Now anything that consists of a day and a number is just unbearably cool to me.)

That weekend was my first time in the water since March, but I wasn’t surfing. We found this amazing little pool place, and, nearby, an even more amazing little pool. It was really deep and had a large rock hanging above it so you could dive in from several metres up. Major fun. So, as you may have guessed, that weekend was all about exploring the dear Antrim coastline in my wetsuit.

Going back to school was unpleasant, to say the least. 7:35 is such an ungodly time. For the first five minutes I trudged around like a stupefied zombie, boiling the kettle and painfully climbing up the stairs. Mornings are awful. But then when I got to school everyone was there and it was fun and we chatted and laughed and everything was as easy as breathing. I’ve decided that I need people around me or I go all philosophical and depressing.

So the rest of the week commenced like that, but with the growing pressure of my impending drama performance, which is how we skip to today (or yesterday, because the story begins then).

Let’s be clear. Yesterday kicked ass. It was funny and fun and school is fun because there are lots of people. So when I destroyed my poor ankle in P.E. I just lay there laughing for about five minutes because I was having too jolly a time to let pain get in the way. After that I milked the ‘I’m in pain’ thing until I got home.

Skip forward to this morning, and my foot was STIFF. I doddered even slower than usual to the kitchen then practically pulled myself upstairs into the shower. Everything was hunky dory except for how slow I was. Then, just as I was buttering my (home-made!) pancakes I took a sudden bout of sickness. I collapsed into a chair, sweating, freezing and ghostly, and proceeded to retch unsuccessfully into a bowl. I didn’t eat my poor breakfast and felt so bad because my homemade pancakes just sat there not being eaten.

So I watched TV and did the whole sick thing for a while and now I feel fine, which is irritating. A sixteen-hour day is far too long if you don’t have school to contend with. Right now it is 1:40 and I am bored numb. Hence the blog post. I can’t believe I need school so much.

Well, anyway, I started texting various friends to keep them busy (because school is just as boring as home when you’re there) and then my friend Ben said that my drama performance was tomorrow, first period. Which was like “OH MY DAYS I’M SO SCREWED” and I got all angry at him because he just told me to spite me because he’s like that. However, my teacher never told me this and even though I know it’s true I can just say I didn’t know when the performance was and Ben’s grand plan will be foiled. Because I am 100% not ready to perform tomorrow MORNING (opposed to tomorrow at 11:00am which I had assumed to be my time). So, I’m freaking out and all nervous and angry and stuff.

I actually have a lot going on tomorrow. It will be hellish. There’s the whole drama thing, then my music lesson (which is always a stressful experience) then I miss the whole afternoon for my Duke of Edinburgh practice expedition. It all points to carrying a lot of bags to school tomorrow.

That’s all a bit too ‘real’ for my taste, so let’s delve into Gossip Girl. It’s an American TV series (what else) set in New York’s lavish Upper East Side, and wow is it superficial. I positively love the glitz and glamour and all the scary, edgy parties and bitchiness and the venom and the fashion and the silliness of it all. The best part is that it’s seen through the eyes of a blogger called Gossip Girl who reports in her acidic, intrigued manner about all the cool people and their worries. It’s so clever because it makes what are sometimes serious matters seem so trivial and juicy. I do love it.

One last thing. I LOVE LaGaGa. Her actual songs are a bit samey and electronic, but she is a fantastic person. Her rendition of ‘Viva La Vida’ puts Coldplay to shame and she has SUCH an infectious flair for music. She’s also positively bonkers, which I love. Her teacup is hilarious.

P.S. I’ve been reading until my eyes bleed. I was about to say that I’m not going to do a review but I am enjoying procrastinating doing nothing by writing this post, so I think I will. The book was “Broken Soup” by Jenny Valentine and it was for my library club this Friday. I didn’t like the look of it at first because the blurb was VERY uninformative and it irritated me. However, I gathered from it that the book was some sort of mystery: intrigue, scandal, mad characters. I was mistaken.

Sure, chapter one was like that, but chapter two set the scene for the whole book. The protagonist’s brother, Jack drowned and now she and everyone around deals with it. There’s also a mystery element but it is drowned out by all the lament. I have to say I was disappointed that it was about some guy that had died (make no mistake, he was the main character) and I wasn’t getting BORED of reading about these people’s shattered lives, I just didn’t want to be all depressed by the nature of death. The author did have good writing ability, but it was all rather pessimistic and samey. The mother was the Mary-Sue ‘crushed parent’ who just lay around taking drugs. She frustrated me. However, I liked everyone else (except for Bee’s druggie dad that everyone loved but I thought they were stupid for leaving an infant in his care) and overall it was a good enough read. It was sweet and it taught me all about the importance of family etc.

And because I love Gossip Girl:

XOXO Gossip Girl

Something Terrible Has Happened

At 3:55PM today I had my Grade 5 Viola exam. I’ll walk you through the horror that I just experienced.

At first glance, things weren’t so bad. I walked into the room where a nice little man said hello and asked me how my day was et cetera. All pleasant, welcoming stuff. But that I actually had to start playing, and the horror began.

Tambourin by Gossec. The beginning was horrible as always, but this one wasn’t actually too bad. My one complaint is that I didn’t magically fix the one bit that I always get wrong. However, I do feel that I’ve passed overall on this one.

Mozart. OH DEAR. Another horrible beginning, followed by a horrible middle and end. My nice low bit lacked the swoopy-ness that it usually had and my big moment that I love and always crescendo to was DISASTROUS. It makes me feel bad.

As usual, the Joplin was the best of my three pieces. Apart from one nasty bit where it all but fell apart, this one was good. I played it with some of the animation that I owe and there were ample dynamics so it was alright.

In hindsight my pieces were actually okay. Enough to pass by, at any rate. I think that I’m perhaps making things out to be worse than they are because of ONE REALLY HORRIBLE THING.

Scales next. I got a few simple ones and many were separate bows so everything was going grandly. But then…E MINOR ARPEGGIO, SLURRED BOWS.

My world came crashing down. It is well known to be the most evil arpeggio in the history of the universe. Plus, I had been learning E flat by accident up until today. Imagine by surprise.

Aural tests were good, I think. I sang whilst retaining my dignity, did some more singing with only one wrong note, as far as I could detect, and my clapping was some of the best you’ve ever seen. Unfortunately that’s where the good times end. He played me an extract from a piece and asked me the period. I told him, rather shakily, that it was romantic. Then he asked for a REASON. So I gingerly told him it was rather discordant.

Mortified.

After that he asked me about the key, but I had been listening for dynamics and musical nuances and he didn’t even ask for them. So I stuttered for an age then told him miserably that it was in two. I came out of the room feeling rather worse for wear.

Thank goodness it is all over. For another several months I have no music exams. It’s a blessing. And I have a MARVELOUS book to review but I think this entry is long enough without tacking on a 1’000 word paean.

Gatsby and Other Exciting Things

Despite Gatsby being the main reason for this blog entry, I’m going to leave him until last. It seems logical to start with how I’m writing to the blog. Well, I recently downloaded the newest version of MSN messenger that comes with this nifty thing called Windows Live Writer. Being a ‘writer’, I was intrigued. I downloaded it as part of my package and discovered that it was actually a program that allows me to write to my blog with ease! So if the internet’s broken or something I can just save all my junk here then post it when I get on. Fabulous.

I discovered a little while ago that when my brother tells me to shut the door he’s really telling me to get out of the room and don’t leave any trace of myself behind. That’s lovely.

It’s 10:17pm so I won’t ramble anymore. On to Gatsby.

I had high hopes for this one, which is perfectly normal because I choose all my books carefully. I think this was my second ‘classic’ novel so I was looking forward to it with perhaps more anxiety than my usual novel. I have to say, I wasn’t disappointed.

The book is narrated by Nick Buchanan (who followed the pattern of being the most boring protagonist possible), a young bondsman who has recently moved to New York State’s wealthy Long Island. His cousin, Daisy is a silly girl with an affluent background and a husband that doesn’t care about her. What I was struck by here is the airiness of their relationship, like two ships passing and acknowledging one another with with fleeting curiosity. It was, what are they called? A marriage of means.

So the novel began in an easy, uncaring way with characters that cared more about parties and dresses than feelings and relationships. The superficiality was beautiful. The parties, described sparingly with a dreamlike state of half-awareness of Nick’s part were so fantastically skin-deep.

As the novel progressed these layers of padding simply fell away, leaving raw nerves that had been veiled by masks of careless smiles completely vulnerable. Daisy’s marriage all but dissolved in the eyes of the reader (though not literally because it was a marriage of means) as we discover that she is, in fact, in love with Jay Gatsby. Then there’s a terrible traffic accident and the climax of the novel is reached. After that, I believe it took a turn for the worst. With thirty pages to go and the transformation from superficial to raw complete, the book seemed to flutter between meanings. There were two shocking character deaths that I hardly comprehended because they were done without flair or emotion.

But then, as always, the novel ends with hypotheses and contemplation that set my heart soaring. Fitzgerald likened Gatsby, gazing upon Daisy’s house with long, wonder and feeling to the first settlers in America and everything was happy in literary world.

I’m now reading Grass for his Pillow by Lian Hearn for the second time. There is a third novel in this series that I never reached two years ago when I last read them, so I’m going over the first two again, then I’ll finish the series once and for all. After that, my library club novel – The Knife of Never Letting Go. It has a truly fascinating blurb. Then I imagine I’ll read something classic again. Thomas Hardy, mayhaps, as I’ve recently fallen in love with his poem “The Darkling Thrush”.

I’m going to bed now. Goodnight!

The Weekend of Friday 6th - Sunday 8th March

I got out of school at 3:25 as usual and walked down to the library for my monthly book club. It had actually been two months since we met so we were discussing Meg Rosoff's What I Was and the infamous...Twilight.

Despite this being the least eventful part of my weekend I plan to do a little mini-review of each novel :3

What I Was really set my heart pacing when I read the blurb. Young love, contemplation of life, and the seaside. It ticked all the boxes. That's why I think I was so disappointed by it. The protagonist, instead of being the confused, fantastically lovable little boy I wanted turned out to be cynical, supercilious and uncaring. But you can't blame our dear author for having a character that was mean, could you? No, but you can blame them for said character turning from sarcastic elitist to blubbering romantic in the space of a chapter. Oh, yes! He's fallen in love; it's perfectly justifiable. 

No. Characters do not change in three seconds flat, no matter how great their love. They EVOLVE. 

Anyway, I trudged through the next 120 pages hating the new hapless Hilary (male) as much as the old cynical beast. The book became rather hopeless after I discovered that Finn, the adventurous young boy that lives in a shack by the sea and doesn't belong to the government, was as interesting as cardboard. The author was trying to show us that he had never been in human contact and thus didn't know HOW to have emotions, and she succeeded. Like I said, cardboard.

But then something happened. Dear old Finn disappeared and Hilary stole his shack and became "one with nature." Oh, it was splendid. It was the romanticism of Hilary mixed with Finn's idyllic lifestyle for 60 pages of almost uninterrupted nature imagery and contemplation of life with some delightful metaphors thrown in. 

And then the book ended and I felt that it had somehow redeemed itself. Slightly. Though one quarter of the book being a good read is simply not enough.

Now on to Twilight. We all love this novel at first. "Oh, isn't Edward lovely?" "It's so romantic!" After time the positive thoughts of the book atrophy in your head and are usurped by dark, twisty one about how two-dimensional Bella is etc. We had such fun ripping this and its movie adaptation apart on Friday. Because no one likes Twilight anymore. 

That'll do for Twilight. I'm still exhausted from Friday.

Saturday morning brought an early rise to my friend David's house to shoot the rest of his movie. I played a chav (ignorant, brutish English teenagers) and it was tremendous fun. I found out last night that it's on Youtube so everybody go look at "My View on Chavs and how they Resemble Zombies". It will make you laugh or your money back. So I stayed there for a while and played make-up artist/cameraman then returned home. My friend Jonny came over and we didn't go into town like we had planned. So we played on the Wii and watched some TV online and stuff.

That night I had to go play the viola at the Ballymena Academy Old Pupils' Association Dinner for about half an hour. When I came out it was WET. Lightning danced about the sky and the cheerful cacophony from inside and given way to thunderous roars in the sky. It took about five seconds to get from the doorway to the car, but I got WET.

Yesterday I went shopping and bought a jacket that I thought was grey but later discovered was green. I still heart it and am wearing it as I type. I also got a pair of shorts that mock me because it is too cold outside to wear them. I bought a few bracelet-y things as well because I always wanted to have random junk to string around my wrist.

I had a sudden urge tonight to run. But I was with our elderly dog so it wasn't going to happen. Now I have a not so sudden urge to get up at 7:00am tomorrow and go for a brisk morning run. Unforunately I'm 90% sure it's dark so early in the morning and our shower is broken, which means I would be sticky in school. Unpleasant.

Oh! I read The Great Gatsby and was really looking forward to talking to myself about it. However this blog entry has gone on long enough and I'm about to run out of battery power. Goodbye, myself.

All These Changes That I'm Not Sure Happened

I'm sitting here, on my bed, wondering whether I should say everything, or nothing has changed. It's been months since I've written anything so my grammar is suitably horrible, but apart from that, life trundles on. (The old me would now lament how little my life has altered in a space of several months, but not this one!)

I've started watching Grey's Anatomy, which simply is just the best TV show on earth. I've also read a lot of books - notably Uglies by Scott Westerfield. Let's talk about that for a while, shall we?

I gingerly approached the section of my local library allocated to teenagers, knowing that I would find nothing but melodramatic, romantic trash and needlessly violent spy "novels". Turning my head to 90 degrees as I usually do when scanning books, I came across this very interesting find. It's about a futuristic society where everyone is born "ugly" (except for the "natural-born pretties" that set my heart a-twittering) and are then operated upon at the age of sixteen to become "pretty". Although the prose was lamentable, I could for once forgive the author and simply enjoy the story.

As usual, one character breaks the norm and decides she doesn't want to be pretty. However, the frighteningly awful totalitarian government doesn't like rebellion so they conscript our protagonist into finding the rebel, or she will never become pretty. 

It doesn't sound like the most terrible punishment in the world, but that's the magic of Uglies: you completely and utterly believe that this is the most horrid thing imaginable. I was wholly sucked into the world where aesthetics are the only thing that matter. There was such an urgency about the protagonist to turn pretty, that when she realized the beautiful people were only beautiful because her entire upbringing and enforced that hypothesis, I still just felt the need for everyone to turn pretty.

Then again, I'm vain.

Now onto the main theme of the novel. As you can guess, it's individualism. As the story progresses we find out more about what categorizes someone as 'ugly' or 'pretty'. Pretties are the absolute average of everything that only have very subtle differences to tell them apart. Uglies, on the other hand, are ourselves. It took me a while to figure that out, though I loved that the author didn't shout to the heavens the purpose of his novel. All of the uglies in the novel eventually become confident about their appearance and rebel against the government that forces them to conform. How lovely.

I think I'm making it sound like a very girly book. But it isn't. Despite its underwhelming writing I loved it because of its characters, its futuristic setting (did I mention that? The author just makes up devices) and its fantastic message for young people. It also talks about why we should recycle and stuff, which is a plus in my book.

I didn't mean to write that much about it. That makes it seem like I love it to bits when really I just enjoyed it. Although it should come with a warning sticker because for the first 100 pages I was convinced that image is everything and judged the poor students at my school. But then everything was uplifting and wonderful.

My surfing has progressed! I'm still not 'riding the face of the wave' (the man in the surf shop asked me that and I had to decipher its meaning on the spot, lest I look like a fool) but I'm getting up a lot faster and I want to start tackling drop-ins soon. I bought some new gear yesterday because my old stuff was either ripped or constricting the blood flow to my hands. There's a competition next weekend so I'm going to head up and watch how the pros do it. They sell little cups of tea at comps so it's all good :]

Also, I'm doing Drama for GSCE and it is the most awful thing imaginable. My essays are horrible, compliments from the teacher are like blood from a stone (a rather worn simile) and I have an OBSESSED friend that won't stop OBSESSING. 

I think that's it. I half-rejoined my role-playing website and look forward to starting some open RP and just going nuts. Haven't written since NOVEMBER.