Happy birthday America. Let’s just say that I will always be more inclined to say that than I will to celebrate 23rd June.
So this weekend my big-ish little brother aged substantially and to celebrate I bought him an poo-shaped emoji cushion and a poker set (the former because I thought of him when I saw it, the latter because… I thought of him when I saw it). Now he can legally gamble his way through life, as opposed to playing monopoly with anyone who hasn’t figured out how much he cheats yet. It has just occurred to me that if one of us kills the other, we’re both now completely responsible for our actions and will both go to big scary adult prisons, so on that note I’m going to go and eat leftover party food and reminisce the days I thought he’d never be taller than me. Here is a terrible selfie indicating how much we could both use a haircut.
But seriously, we owe our parents for taking us to the dentist.
It’s tipping it down, the lamps are on, Donnie was recently rescued, drenched, from the patio and if life were perfect, I would be settling into a morning of writing prose, possibly about a haunted house or murder mystery. There’s that sort of light in the house, you know.
Instead I am thinking of settling into half an hour of writing then getting a snack and settling into a few hours of Instagram scheduling, blog drafting (the client kind, not the yelling about Donald Trump kind) and wishing I had a different desk chair. Still, if life were perfect then I would have nothing to talk about here and then where would you all be? Miserably clicking through my smug updates about meeting publishers to arrange a release date for my haunted house murder mystery. Boring.
I loathe grey weather, unless I’m snug inside writing or in a field and can pretend I’m in an action thriller with rolling clouds and dramatic music, so I thought I would share some spring photos. I got these flowers in Aldi at Easter and they aren’t dead yet – which feels like an accomplishment even though all I’ve done is add water to the vase occasionally, and I’m not even the only one in the house doing it – and they’re bright enough to cheer up even a grotty Friday in Southend, so thank you budget supermarket. As I finished this paragraph the rain stopped and the sun peaked through the clouds, so the garden actually looks quite bright and pleasant. It won’t last.
In the time it’s taken to upload these photos, the rain’s started again. I can hear thunder. Right, what should I call my murder mystery?
I can’t believe it’s been three days since my last post and I’ve got the itch to write you all again. I’m still not sure what I want to say, either in terms of blogging generally or right now, so maybe the itch is really just the desire to anything that isn’t vacuuming.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned it here, but Ruby and I are doing a craft fair next Saturday, and next week I have new – and scary – work on which I don’t want to talk about yet in case it falls flat and I look flaky… it’s awkward when you mention a new project to people that ends soon after starting; I always feel like it makes me come across as incapable of sticking things out, or like I was talking myself up in the first place. So come back in six months and I’ll tell you why I’m nervous! I can talk about the craft fair though – and if you’re in Southend next Saturday, you should come and say hi. I’m selling ye olde stationery and accessories, and Ruby her brooches. I’m biased because I know her, but aren’t these the cutest things:
Happily, Ruby has a proper job alongside her knack for drawing on shrink-wrap plastic, so she is at the fair as a general arty person, as opposed to my professional-arty-person-who-will-therefore-be-hoping-to-make-much-monies. We’re both hoping people turn up.
I’ve just remembered something else I haven’t mentioned and should brag about: the other week I did an interview with the wonderfully-haired Jess at Jicsi’s Jewellery, which was great fun and made me want to scratch the ole’ blog itch even more. Maybe I could get into interviewing cynics, what do you reckon?
On Saturday I started a wonderful post about summer sunshine and light evenings and then… I went outside and enjoyed the summer sunshine and light evening, and forgot to write more than a few sentences. I think we all know I made the right decision for everyone involved.
So it’s someone’s birthday today…
I can’t believe I was listening to this thing when I was 13 and never even considered it to be a dark record… I just thought it had lovely imagery and was a lot of fun to dance to – don’t get me wrong I can still bop to ‘Thank You for the Venom’ with the best of them – but sometimes now I consider that there are songs like ‘Thank You for the Venom’ and wonder what life would have been like if I’d only listened to the Jonas Brothers.
Existential questions, eh. My gut feeling is that I’d probably have a desk job and far less understanding of why it’s important that men wear eyeliner. The whole album still as fresh, as the kids (might) say, as it was when I first got it circa 2008… funny, back then I felt like MCR’s stuff had been knocking around forever. I probably should admit that I still can’t remember the song titles properly – I tell anyone who’ll listen that my favourite band was clever enough to write a song called ‘It’s Not a Fashion Statement, It’s a Fucking Deathwish’ but I put the record on shuffle and have to check what’s playing. Not because the titles are overly long and theatrical but because I pretty much just let it melt into one and imagine I was separated from my significant other in a gun fight and made a deal with the devil to get back to them.
On Tuesday afternoon I thought it would be fun to take the Underground from Angel to Tower Bridge, walk by the Tower and across the Bridge then through Hay’s Galleria to London Bridge station and back to Kings Cross. Here is what I learnt:
In England, you can never wear enough layers. Ever. Especially if your umbrella is of debatable quality and folds up in anything stronger than a breeze.
You should always carry change, because although you might not begrudge the city of London 50p to use a well-maintained public toilet, you will be pretty bummed out if the machine doesn’t take change.
I shouldn’t have walked so far when I had work the rest of the week and recently made the decision to use a standing desk.
Least it was pretty though… and even if I did spend all of yesterday feeling like a zombie, it was not wasted on me that I could have been in an exam instead. Francesca’s life choices: 1, naysayers 0. Didn’t even get lost. Much.
I fell asleep on the patio with my trousers rolled up yesterday, which means one thing… summer’s here. Or it’s visiting at any rate.
I love it. I love that I can swap hot coffee for frappes, jeans for short shorts and procrastinating on the Internet for sitting outside being, like, zen. It’s a bit strange that it’s May and for the first time in half a decade I’m not about to sit an exam, but it’s the sort of strangeness one associates with waking up on holiday.
Speaking of summer, this weekend I added two new things to my Etsy that I’m really, really excited about: pocket mirrors. I don’t know how many of you have a collection of mirrors that you take out to different places, but I have a little stash and I love them. Course, none of them are sarcastic, grumpy or outright rude, so I had to design my own.
Cool huh. Get them here, for less than the average Starbucks beverage (in fact, I think everything I sell is less than the average Starbucks beverage… and I do my tax in the UK).
I’ve also managed to make myself a portfolio site that isn’t completely repulsive – the link is in the menu bar if you fancy my attempts to be incredibly professional. Speaking of, I have some emails to sort out. Happy Monday… unless you’re packing your bags to leave Tory England forever, anyway.
I was going to start this with ‘happy Wednesday’… happy Tuesday. I’m going to make a coffee after this.
Thank you to everyone for the love for the MCR post! I’ve been blasting May Death Never Stop You for three days and there’s a definite correlation between the amount I listen to good music and the depth of my desire to colour my hair again. I must say, though, because I’ve been fortunate enough to have a few blogs that garner a lot of attention from people who aren’t regular readers, that I’m always nervous about the post that comes after. What if those one-off readers decide to stick around and expect more mind-altering and wonderful prose? You ain’t gonna get it today, ’cause I have two pieces of freelance work to finish, vacuum cleaning to do and I’m seeing a friend tomorrow so I’ve got to do whatever I might have done tomorrow today instead.
I haven’t got as far as planning tomorrow. Let’s pretend I was planning to hash together a blog!
We took Donnie to the specialist vet yesterday (good news: he’s not going to die of leishmania yet) and while we were in the waiting room we made the acquaintance of an Afghan hound. Until yesterday I had neither met nor seen pictures of Afghan hounds, and the only association I had with them was from a childhood book called The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls. I now realise the inherent and unnecessary sexism of the title, as it was essentially a compendium of fun facts and activities: it taught me how to stop a nosebleed, for example, and contained excellent Halloween ideas. It also had a section on famous hairstyles, and described Jennifer Aniston’s ‘Rachel’ do as making the wearer ‘look not unlike an Afghan hound’.
Have I shown you guys any Christmas presents? This is one of my favourites:
I still haven’t asked if it was funny or serious or just an excuse to buy Love Hearts.
What has everyone else received or given? Anything world-changingly wonderful, like a well for Somalian schoolchildren, or something more last minute, like sale-price socks?
Mum and I are currently finishing some Christmas chocolates and I’m looking up easy peasy reluctant cook-suitable recipes to improve my general health. Not because it’s new year – well a bit – but mostly because it’s about time I leant how to use the enormous bag of spirulina I got from Holland and Barrett two months ago and can’t stomach raw.