Guerrilla inspiration

Today Simon and I went planting on Midsummer Common - we've sown sunflower seeds that came with my copy of On Guerrilla Gardening, which was given to me by Fiona for my birthday. I'm not sure whether she was dropping a deliberate hint, given that the new flat has no outdoor space to call our own, but it's definitely inspiring me so far and I keep spotting pieces of neglected-looking land that I want to make good. I may not be the most green-fingered person in the world, but I'm seriously considering giving it a go, starting with the courtyard outside our flat, which features a strange water feature that probably cost lots of money, and some flowerbeds that are untended and looking a bit sorry for themselves. Need to figure out an action plan though - what to grow, and when to plant it - hopefully without getting noticed! I'll try and post the results here at some point...

Moving house

I'm surrounded by cardboard boxes in a flat that's surrounded by fog. Tomorrow I move house, so Simon and I will get to spend Valentine's Day driving across town moving all our possessions to our new flat - hopefully by that time this fog will have cleared!

Up until today it's felt more like spring than the middle of winter, which has given me a bit of that 'fresh start' feeling while I've been packing. Today it's difficult to motivate myself, though, and I'm putting that down to the weather - although I'm actually excited about moving now, after the initial disappointment of finding out we had to find somewhere new. I'll miss a few things about living here, but it's hard to be upset when we're going to have Midsummer Common as our back garden. I just wish physically moving everything was going to be easier...

Resolutions

So, today the Christmas decorations are supposed to come down and the festive season is really over, which to me means I have all that cold winter to get through with very little else to brighten it up, and no cash left to spend either. Mind you, we still have plenty of wine and chocolate left over to see us through the dark nights, so it's not all bad...

Every year I tell myself I'm not making a New Year's resolution, but when it comes down to it I always end up with a big list of things I want to accomplish. I've come to realise this is a pretty bad idea, since it only leads to an inevitable feeling of failure a year later (of my ridiculously long list of about eight resolutions for 2007, I managed to achieve about two, and they were the easiest ones).

Anyway, since I have no money and no urge to go out into the cold, I think this year I'm going to stick to one resolution that involves staying in a lot - learning to play the guitar I bought for myself last year. It's been gathering dust for several months now, and I haven't managed to progress beyond playing the same few chords one after the other in very slow succession - mostly that's because I get frustrated with myself and give up too easily. I'm sure there are harder things I've managed to master, but those are mostly things I've done because I've had to. It's about time I did something just for the fun of it, so I'm determined to stick with it this time - and hopefully, in a year's time, I won't be re-reading this with a sense of failure...!

Pre-Christmas penny pinching

What a miserable git I am. It's a Friday night, and while everyone I know is out celebrating Christmas in one way or another, I'm staying in and studiously not spending money.

As an atheist, it's ridiculous to like Christmas as much as I do, but I really do love this season. I love that while it's cold and grey outside, town is lit up with decorations and people are getting dressed up and having fun together. I love the buzz in the office on the last few days before the holiday, I love the over-eating and I love getting to spend a good chunk of time with my family. But unfortunately, for about the fourth year running I have no funds to properly enjoy it all and am finding myself ducking out of social events for fear of going over budget... which makes me pretty poor company at the moment.

Don't get me wrong - I fully plan to go out on Christmas Eve, I've managed to buy what I think are decent presents without spending a fortune, and my closest friends and I are planning to share a cheap home-cooked meal tomorrow that will cost next to nothing. But it would be nice, just for once, to get to this point in the year without worrying about how I'll finance it.

Clearly, I either need a better-paid career, a wealthy benefactor or to stop moaning. And in the absence of millionaire friends or a job I would rather do for more money, I guess I should start thinking about a New Year's resolution to be a little more positive... so here's to some festive cheer and goodwill!

¡No hablo Espanol!

I've got behind on myself again, haven't I? It seems like it was at least a month ago that I was lazing by a swimming pool and overheating in the Spanish sun. It's hard to believe I haven't even been back in the country for two weeks, although I've secretly already started plotting my next break. Maybe next time I should try for a country where I can actually speak a bit of the language, for all the use my phrase book was (note to self: being able to use a phrase you looked up earlier that day does not mean you will be able to understand the reply). Embarrassing touristy point-and-hope-for-the-best conversations aside, it was mostly just good to have the time away from Cambridge to relax with Simon and some mates, and to not have to do anything if we didn't feel like it.

It feels now like I've been back at work forever. It's depressing to be driving home in the rain watching the dark creeping up, and to be having email conversations with my friends about Christmas - and what with my weekend duty and Simon's packed-out week of shows, it feels as though we've hardly seen each other at all in the last week. In fact, I think we need a holiday...

All Trucked out

Truck finally happened! After a two-month delay and the worst summer I can remember weather-wise, I was expecting good things, and I wasn't disappointed. Okay, so it wasn't the best line-up ever, and there were some bad bits - such as Simon managing to catch some sort of stomach bug that knocked him out for most of Saturday, but Truck still managed to be one of the highlights of my year so far.

Low points: Simon being ill; some odd timetabling decisions (Blood Red Shoes and Foals in the Trailer Park tent?) that led to Foals being pulled early Saturday evening; the irritating man who was shouting loudly while I was trying to sleep; having to get out of bed at 6am on Monday to peg the tent down again after the wind threatened to blow us away.

High points: Fonda 500 generally being ace and even managing to bring out the sun; opera in the pub on Sunday night; Foals being rescheduled and the audience getting a wee bit excited; the irritating man shouting "I am a stereotypical festival cunt!" loudly and thus redeeming himself partially; not having to sleep in the stewards' marquee after our tent stayed put.

More of the same again next year, please. Just without the illness.

I would also like to mention, mainly as a way of reminding myself in about six months' time, that I have my first hangover since about March after drinking more wine than I meant to yesterday. This is exactly why I stopped drinking much in the first place... lemonade for me tonight, then.

Tomorrow I will be mostly packing for a week in Spain. Spain! Where the sun is shining! Full report to follow.

The worst socialite ever

It is 10.30pm on Bank Holiday 'eve', and I have just returned from what was looking like a very good house party at the home of some very likeable people whose company I enjoy. Somehow I'm just not in the mood for being sociable, so I've made my excuses and disappeared, leaving me feeling slightly relieved but nonetheless fairly guilty.

However: I have wine, and chocolate, and the possibility of crap telly to see me through the rest of the evening. I may even try finishing the book I was reading, or writing something worth showing to somebody (well, it's worth a shot). Here's to long and lazy weekends...

Not recommended

Yesterday we cycled to Ely along the river bank. Doesn't that sound idyllic?

It's a BAD idea. The lovely towpath to Waterbeach was to blame; it lulled us into a false sense of security. Never cycle to Ely along the river bank. Walk it, yes (and expect it to take you most of the day, and take lots of water and food), but don't do what we did and take your bikes over all those stiles and along horrible bumpy ground that often can't be cycled on very easily. And if you must do it, make sure you at least wait until they've repaired the bit of railway track where the cycle network crosses it. There's nothing more dispiriting than standing on the wrong side of a 7ft fence with the cathedral on the horizon, looking a sign that says "Ely 2 miles" and realising you're going to have to take a 6-mile detour on an A road. In fact, if we'd researched it properly beforehand, we would have realised there's a much better route.

That said, the fens are absolutely beautiful, and it was quite something being out there in what feels like the middle of nowhere with all that sky to look at. If my camera wasn't playing up I would have had some amazing pictures. Maybe next time...

Floods, and refugee-Truck

Half of Oxfordshire is under water, along with several other bits of England. This makes it difficult to be quite so unreasonably annoyed about Truck being cancelled - other people have far worse problems to deal with at the moment, and besides, I really wouldn't want to try camping in a field swamped by more than a foot of water mixed with cow shit. And as another plus point, an alternative 'Truck' happened anyway, as a last-minute gig at Oxford Brookes student union.

So Simon and I decided to drive down to Oxford with some friends, cram into a Travelodge and watch some bands while eating Rotary Club bacon rolls. Truck staff were there in wellies and waterproof capes, and the barman with the fez and the golden wings served people perry. Frank Turner and Youthmovies were fab. The Brian Jonestown Massacre were okay-ish, but completely unworthy of the genius tag they have somehow ended up with. (Message for BJM: a decent riff played over and over again quickly goes from being pretty enjoyable to being pretty dull.) However. Much fun was had, and my weekend wasn't wasted - although with hindsight, we were lucky not to get caught in any flooding on the roads. I have also decided to head out to the rescheduled festival in September, so all in all I'm feeling much more upbeat. Plus: I still have the week off work. And we're not flooded.

Truck off

The bastard weather has ruined my favourite festival of the year. After a day of planning, buying food, making sure we had tents and wellies and all other things festival-like, we arrived home to find the Truck site is a washout and the organisers have postponed it until September. Boo!

To top it off, I may not be able to go on the rescheduled date as it would mean more precious time off work. And I don't have anything to do for the weekend. I'm thinking of getting in the car and heading to the driest place I can find tomorrow, just for the sake of it...

Move over, Felicity Kendal

We've got courgettes growing on our balcony. Despite having made it to the age of 28, I still find it fascinating that you can plant a seed in a pot of earth and it will eventually grow into a great big, prickly plant with enormous leaves, let alone that the prickly plant will then produce vegetables that I can eat. We also have tomatoes, which are still very tiny, and potatoes (we hope) and a plant that should grow butternut squash but hasn't yet.

The only problem is, I'm not sure there's enough room for us on the balcony any more...

Lazy and forgetful

Those are my two excuses for not having posted in a year. A year! In that time I have moved cities (back to my home town of Cambridge), passed my MA, started a new job, bought a 16-year-old car that has miraculously survived my driving (so far), and generally done all sorts of new and interesting things. None of which I can remember now, obviously.

Finding this blog again is a bit like turning up some old diary that I started when I was 12 years old and lost interest in two weeks later. Except this time I am going to try and start again... promise.

So: this week I have mostly been working lots, getting very excited about heading off to Truck festival in a little over a week, and trying to figure out whether I can persuade anyone with the knowledge to fit a second-hand car radio into my car, thus saving us having to drive to said festival in silence. I'm not sure I fancy my chances.

Additions to my library

Yesterday I bought three books which I have neither the money to afford nor the time to read, but they all look infinitely more interesting than theories on Economic Globalisation. They were:

The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst

How We Are Hungry by Dave Eggers

A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian by Marina Lewycka

Somehow this was the result of running out of reading material at lunchtime, wandering into Blackwell's, realising the two books I was considering were in a 3 for 2 promotion and thinking "oh well, I may as well take advantage, buy them both and find another book". Time and again I fall for this shameless trick and end up with another three books sitting on my shelf, making me feel guilty for not having read them. Bookshops are evil.

My weekend was better than your weekend

Even if it was three days ago now, it was better, so there.

My weekend was better than your weekend because Katie and Jon came to visit. And because we spent half the time in the pub and half the time eating nice food. And we also spent some more time (yes, maths wasn't my strong point at school) lazing in the Arboretum, where we watched kids smear icecream over their faces and chase stupid-looking dogs, while listening to the Dr Who theme tune being played by steel drummers and songs from the 60s played by a school orchestra of some sort. Oh, and of course there was icecream to be eaten.

My weekend ruled, in short. So, now it's back to that essay...

Betrayal!

For some reason I set up some other blog over at etribes. Well, actually it was set up for me, because I belong to ABC Tales, but after three whole posts and maybe four photos being uploaded I discovered I'm over my storage limit, and I need to purchase some super version of etribes to carry on posting.

So, after consideration, I would like to say that I'm sorry for straying. I know it won't make it any better to say that it didn't mean anything to me, but it honestly didn't, and I'd like to come back and make a proper go of things here.

Good Night, and Good Luck

The use of history to shed light on the present might not be a new idea, but it's certainly an effective one.

George Clooney, from behind the camera, uses the communist-hunting McCarthy era to frame his comments about today's media in Good Night, and Good Luck, taking television journalist Edward R Murrow's fight against Senator Joe McCarthy in the early fifties as his subject.

The film is shot entirely in black and white, with lots of heavy dialogue and a minimal soundtrack (aside from some extended jazz pieces away from the main action). The result is a claustrophobic feel that highlights the climate of fear enveloping the journalists who try to question their government.

David Strathairn is spot-on with a convincing performance as the chain-smoking Ed Murrow. He is backed up by a superb supporting cast that includes Clooney himself, Robert Downey Jr and Ray Wise, who gives an excellent performance as the anxious Don Hollenbeck.

While the action remains faithful to the 1950s details - I can't remember ever having seen so much smoking on a cinema screen, for one, and the newsroom is dominated by men - there are obvious parallels between today's world and the one portrayed in the film. Then, America was embroiled in an ideological war that threatened freedoms at home and resulted in a self-censoring media. Today's enemies may have changed, but the debate surrounding the West's reactions to them is largely the same – and the film uses the comparison to powerful effect.

But while there's no doubt about Clooney's intended message, he certainly didn't graduate from Michael Moore's 'bash them over the head with a stick' school of directing. Good Night, and Good Luck has only a few subtle laughs, but it's a fine film with a touch of class.

Family Planning

I don't know why I am so surprised by Amanda Platell's contribution to feminism on Channel 4's 30 Minutes last Friday. It was exactly what I ought to have expected from a former Conservative press secretary.

I'm not sure what disturbs me most. The way that she does her level best to undermine the progress women have made in the last 50 years? The hypocrisy displayed by Platell (described by Channel 4 as a "high-profile career-woman"), who implies that women should abandon career hopes if they wish to have a family? Or the fact that one of my friends - herself a career-focused woman in her mid-twenties - said this weekend that she thought Platell might be right?

I agree with Platell to an extent - we shouldn't be encouraged to start families in our late 30s and early 40s. The health risks have been well documented, and besides, who really wants to be approaching retirement just as the kids' university fees are due?

What I object to is the suggestion that we're all mapping out our futures on a neat little time-line like school children scrawling 'i luv billy' on our exercise books. I had many a schoolfriend who had everything planned at 13 – when she would marry, how many children she would have and what she would call them (incidentally, none of them envisaged giving birth at 43).

But life has a knack of being incredibly non-compliant with our plans. Has Platell considered that maybe women don't plan to wait to have a family, but have yet to find the right man to have one with? Perhaps if we were content to simply marry the first person who asked and stay together 'for the sake of the children' there would be less of a problem - but I think we've moved on from there.

Platell is right when she says we have to make compromises if we want a work/life balance. But why do only women need to be told this? Somehow men have managed to 'have it all' for years without anyone agonising over how, god forbid, they can have a career and raise a family. Maybe women might manage better if society didn’t expect them to take on the family part by themselves, and make them feel guilty when they find they can’t cope.

um...

I'm not very technologically minded (why on earth did I think a blog would be a good idea, anyway?). I didn't actually mean to post a giant picture of my ugly mug. Ahem. Sorry.

profile photo

My very first blog...

I feel like I should get a badge or something. Woohoo! Congratulations, Kirsty, you have your very own blog... now think of something entertaining to say.

*tumbleweed drifts by*

Anyway, if you're interested, watch this space. I may not post very regularly here but I intend to use this site as a way of organising my thoughts, and possibly even inflicting some attempts at journalism on you. I apologise in advance... stay with me, I'm alright really.