YOU PUT THE FUN IN FUNERAL, YOU'RE THE ONE IN ONE-DIMENSIONAL

Read one of the blogs that I read every day but I hate it hate it hate it which is why I read that blog every day. Capisce? Anyway, today she had posted pictures of some boy taking pictures of himself in various "O-M-G! Look at me! I'm such a poet/inspiration/model and I'm so whimsical/quirky/thoughful" poses and she wrote about his "amazing cheekbones" and skinny arms etc. Like, vomit! So tired of all these boys and girls taking pictures of themselves dressed in skinny jeans with nothing on top (boys) or long t-shirts with nothing underneath except knickers (girls), smoking a cigarette and looking oh, so thoughtfully out of a window, which (obviously) should lead us to assume that they are having a deep, profound thought about the mysteries of life. Discovering some eternal truth that sadly would have gone unnoticed had they not taken that picture, posted it on their blog/flickr/facebook and added a quote from Camus' The outsider (which they've never read) (another popular choice is something from Peter Doherty's repertoire because (gasps) "he is a propa poet, that boy is, a propa hero"). What baffles me is how people still seem to find these people interesting. I'm yawning just thinking about them.

(Note: I figured I could put this rant on my book blog because, even though blogs are not books, it still involves reading, right? Oh, like anyone cares except for me, I can just post this wherever the fuck I want, it's just that I'd like for this blog to be strictly about books but since I'm not strictly about anything specific, my blog probably won't be either. I'm constantly side-tracking. Now that I'm on things that I've read but not in books, according to Cosmopolitan I'm supposed to get involved in a relationship next year that will be "unlike the stressful situations you've faced over the last couple of years." I will, apparently, not get scared away either when this prospective love of mine talks about commitment, flats and (the dreaded words in my book) moving in. Well, dear Cosmopolitan, as lovely as this horoscope sounds, I have to say it's unlikely. First of all: me making sensible choices? Unlikely. Second: Me not freaking out over commitment things? Nah, unlikely. And three: me in a relationship? A proper relationship? Living together, sleeping together, waking up together? Hell to the no. I also think you wrote something about it being romantic. I don't do romance. I'm the least romantic girl in the world. I just cringe, avoid, look away, get bored, feel embarrassed. I know, Cosmo. This means that I'm not a Cosmogirl because every Cosmogirl likes a bit of romance, Twilight and Colin Firth. Yet again something I'm missing out on. Not a proper woman, really. Bitterness is not becoming).

To get out of this long pharenthesis, I have no idea what I'm bitter about but it could be:
a) that I'm not in London
b) my generation
c) girl magazines.

Summed it up quite nicely. However, could also be that I'm tired. Seems likely.

FEVER RAY

Home. Feels a bit weird. Miss England. Planning on moving to London next year. Would love to live in Bayswater, always been my favourite place in London. Places I refuse to live in: Brick Lane and (probably) Camden. They're way too "we so fashion, we so hip" for my taste.

To get to book-related topics; Blonde is still as lovely as it was before, but I might take a break from it and read Allt (translation: Everything) by Martina Löwden instead. Seems good.

NEVER BEEN GOOD ENOUGH BUT I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE BEST

Exams are over! I'm so happy, weight off my shoulders! Will get drunk (or tipsaaay) tonight! On Tuesday I'm going home! On Saturday I'm buying myself a Moleskine to celebrate my own awesomeness! Exclamation point! On Sunday I'm going to London with my Mom, two days there and then I'm going home! Sweden, how I have missed you! Weird year, boring year, everything yet nothing happened year, 2009 I will not miss you! Best thing: all the books I've read! Best reading year ever! So happy! Exclamation point!

Look funny! Don't care! Full stop and exclamation point! High on life (haha, OK, need to stop before this gets worse)! Mom calls on Skype! Gotta go!

THE BOTTOMLINE IS THAT IT'S COOL TO SMOKE AND YOU ALL KNOW IT

I was planning on blogging (sentence?) yesterday, but I was so hungover I could barely get out of bed. Seriously, even when I fell asleep around midnight I still had a pounding headache. But I had a really good night, I drank red wine, I climbed in and out of windows while smoking, I danced on the street and I seem to recall standing in the middle of a room full of people and singing Soko - I'll kill her (best line: "She's a bitch you know, all she's got is blondeness, not even tenderness, she's clever-less." Oh, and also this: "I said it was a love story, but you don't wanna get involved. I said it was a love story but you're not ready for that (beat, beat, beat) ME NEITHER!") That whole "standing in a room singing while everybody is watching" seems to be my thing when drunk. Well, I guess it's everyone's thing when drunk but me more so than others. Unfortunately, I cannot sing. Fortunately, I wasn't alone. Maeva sang as well. She's great. I'm gonna miss everyone so much.

Today I was approached by a nun who wanted to give me a book on Hare Krishna. First she said she wanted to give it to me for free, then she wanted some money for it. Haha, the sneaky ways of the believers! Anyhoo, I politely declined and then cursed her because I missed my bus. Note to self: when someone asks you if you speak English and look like they will most likely talk to you about religion, the environment or mobile phones: just say no.

Anyway (to get off this sidetrack and actually write something about books), I'm reading Blonde at the moment. In August I blogged about how I would probably never read it, but thank God I decided otherwise. It is lovely. Quote:

"Never can you climb over this wall, you're not strong enough; girls aren't strong enough; girls aren't big enough; your body is fragile and breakable, like a doll; your body is a doll; your body is for others to admire and to pet; your body is a luscious fruit for others to bite into and to savor; your body is for others, not for you."

Basically what girls are told from the day they are born.

I DON'T DO ENOUGH CHARITY, I DO A BIT, BUT YOU CAN ALWAYS DO MORE. BUT I LOOK AT IT THIS WAY: IT'S A PAIN INNIT? NOTHING IN IT FOR ME!

Finished reading Cat's eye two days ago, reading Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates now.

NO WORRIES, I'M GOING TO...

This is one of my favourite poems, from spoken word poet Bradley Hathaway. Do take the time to read this, it really is lovely. I have it on my iPod and it always calms me down when life seems too overwhelming. I don't believe in God but I don't mind the Christian element to his poems anyway.

" Wait, wait, wait!

Stop the press.

I woke up today without that
five million pound boulder of stress on my chest
and now I feel blessed and can rest.

Oh, to rest these weary extremities
that have been inflicted with infirmities
unseen or experienced by them before

So tell me
what does the future have in store?

(I don't know.)

But I'm just going to let today be today.

I'm going to wake up this morning
with a smile on my face
look in the mirror
brush my teeth and
not wrack my brain
wondering if she's going to call me or not
because when a girl says
"Let's just be friends",
what she really means is:
"I'm never going to talk to you again."

Accept it.
Move on.
I just did.

And then after that
I'm going to
put on my play clothes
go in the front yard
and climb that pecan tree
like I did last week
but this time
I'm not going to get halfway up there
and start debating
whether or not morality is:

A social adaptation.
A product of evolution.
Or put there by God.

I'm just going to climb the thing
and have fun like I did when I was a kid.

And after that
I'm going to go to
vertebrate zoology class
and listen to my
boring
lifeless
instructor
talk about how
there are fifty different species of minnows
in Arkansas alone.

But I'll smile
and nod
and show interest
act interested
because that really is interesting
if you think about it.

(Think about it.)

And then after that
I'm going to go home and have lunch
the same ol' lunch again!
Two more frickin' frozen El Monterey jack bean and cheese burritos
with a glass of distilled water
and an orange.

But I'll give thanks
that I do have food to eat
because so many people don't.

And then after that
I'll go to work and paint
but I'm not going to paint that
boring
eggshell
white
on that old lady's wall
like she requested.

No, I'm not going to do it.

I'm going to pretend
like I'm a
juvenile Leonardo Da Vinci
and paint a stick figure masterpiece
of a young couple
frolicking in a field of flowers
with little butterflies and gophers
popping up here and there.

(I'm sure the old lady will appreciate it later in life.)

And after that
I'm going to go have dinner with my Paw Paw
and when he cries to me
about how his arthritis is bad
his own daughter rejects him, he's sad
I'll put my arm around him and listen
watch his old weary eyes glisten
as he experiences
my love for him.

And after that
I'll go home
sit on the floor
and start singing songs
to the one that gave me this joy
that I am feeling
but it's more than just some
fleeting feeling
it's eternal truth
in which I am reeling.

And then at night
I'll lay my head to rest
without the slightest
bit of fright or fret
knowing I made the day the best I could.

And that God truly is good."

No worries, I'm going to... - Bradley Hathaway

I LIVE BETWEEN CONCRETE WALLS

Bought some new books (sorry Mother, I can practically hear your voice going "Juliaaa! How will we get all of these books home?" But I did give away six! Which, now that I think about it, doesn't really help me; if I gave away six, how come there's still thirteen here? Never mind...):

Sylvia Plath - The bell jar
Elfriede Jelinek - The piano teacher
A.S. Byatt - Possession

Mom and Dad, simply because I miss you and I love you. So young, so happening! Now you're oldies but goldies.