“You do care a little for me, I know... but nothing to speak of, and you don't love me. I was yours once till death if you'd cared to keep me, but I'm someone else's now... and he's mine in a way that shocks you, but why don't you stop being shocked, and attend to your own happiness.”

(E.M Forster, Maurice)

6 Things I don't understand about...

... this fucking stupid article I read.

1. Why she bothered to write it.

2. Why I bothered to read it.

3. Why I'm bothering to blog about it now, potentially encouraging more people to waste five minutes of their life.

4. Why someone I know on Facebook 'liked' it.

5. Why I thought I could really generate 6 dot points responding to this one bit of inanity. Fuck off Carolyn Hall.

6. ...

“Did I want him to act? Or would I prefer a lifetime of longing provided we both kept this little Ping-Pong game going: not knowing, not-not-knowing, not-not-not-knowing? Just be quiet, say nothing, and if you can't say "yes," don't say "no," say "later." Is this why people say "maybe" when they mean "yes," but hope you'll think it's "no" when all they really mean is, Please, just ask me once more, and once more after that?” 

(Andre Aciman, Call Me By Your Name)

A text I sent to my brother today that might have outed me as a closet racist maybe?

I tried to watch a movie called The Resident, drawn by a stellar cast of Javier Bardem! Lee Pace! Hillary Swank! It was... not good. I mean Pace's gross 90s pleated pants (the movie was made in 2011) were the least of its problems and they were heinous.

Yeah, turns out Javier Bardem is not in that shitty movie. The guy I thought was him was Jeffrey Dean Morgan, who is in no way Spanish. In my defence, I do legitimately seem to have mental problems when it comes to recognising faces I've only seen once or twice. To this day I'm still living down 1) Failing to recognise my good chum Bec's charming brother days after meeting him and talking to him for a good hour, and 2) Failing to recognise one of the main characters in a TV series because in between scenes he put on a different outfit and did his hair funny. Yeeeeeeahhh.

To conclude: definitely mental, only potentially racist. That's my story.

Not lying

I'm sorry but word to the wise: you still really need to read Saga.

Strictly for Serial fans...

... Jay speaks(!)

*Really* hard questions

I've fallen well and truly down a Lee Pace wormhole recently, as you, erm, may have noticed. The weird thing is I thought he was ten types of cute way back in the days of Wonderfalls but kind of forgot about him until right about now. Since this rediscovery I've gone and sucked up up much of his back catalogue, from the sublime to the, well, ridiculous.

In the process I well and truly fell for Pushing Daisies - a TV show starring Pace that my dear and wise friend Ali tried to push down my throat years ago but which, for reasons best chalked up to my stupidity, I resisted.

Pushing Daisies - and I speak as someone who has binged on the show's only two seasons over the past two weeks - is delightful not just because of Pace but because of the gorgeous, gorgeous costumes bestowed on his love interest: Anna Friel as Chuck. Seriously, if I had to choose between going home with Pace or Chuck's wardrobe I... might have some hard choices to make.

It's all about the hat. My GOD the hat.

You too could look this good sitting on a car in this dress.

What better way to entrance your boyfriend (who can't touch you for reasons I won't bother going into) than a saucy vintagesque basque?

One of my favourite Solving Crimes dress. Her handbag in the blazer is pretty spiffing too.

She even makes pants look good. Which is really not fair.

Here are some things on the internet you could read while you digest Christmas lunch

If you read a lot you'll probably come across a lot of The Year That Was articles at this time of year. This one by Charlie Brooker for The Guardian is my favourite. Here's a sample:

"Westminster also found itself mired in scandal when a decades-old dossier containing the names of various high-profile figures suspected of paedophilia went missing. A search turned up nothing. Well, these things happen. It’s an easy mistake to make, especially in an organisation of that size. Maybe someone just accidentally shredded it with sweating, shaking hands and one foot up against the door."

I'm a big fan of a lot of the writing that goes on for Sali Hughes' beauty site and this cute little bit about the joys of getting ready for a night out is no exception.

This New Statesman piece by Elizabeth Minkel on fandom ("Exploring the shifting dynamics of fan culture") is fun reading for anyone interested in the subject and I don't just say that because she quotes my beloved Rainbow Rowell.

If you haven't seen that thing where bored coworkers recreate classic paintings using office supplies, well, maybe you should.

Back at The Guardian Annalisa Barbieri's idea of how to spend Christmas Day sounds, well, blissful. I'd probably ditch the kids, though.

In case you were wondering...

... Keating's still got it.

Yes

Source: http://maggieesmerelda.tumblr.com/post/39151077093

Don't mind me

I'm just chilling over here, drowning in my Lee Pace obsession. In my head I am the lion cub. Ain't no thang.

(Almost) Holiday Reading

This article - "I Talked to People on Tinder About 'Serial' and This is What Happened" - really delivers on its title. Great idea, by the way.

In which I lay some TV truth on ya'll

If you're not watching the pretty great TV series The Flash because you're not really into superhero malarky but you can handle some relationship schmalz then you should also know that this week's episode* features the most classy 'hey best friend, I'm actually super into you even though you have a boyfriend' scene I've seen in awhile. Too often these kind of scenes come off as creepy or aggressive, like the guy expects that just because he's rolled it out there the girl owes him something (I know if I thought hard enough I could come up with some examples of this but it's lunchtime and I'm really jonesing for a cheese toastie). Full credit to the writers and the charming Grant Gustin for pulling it off. Also, dude: you could probably do better. Iris seems like kinda a pill.




* I wondered whether to SPOILER ALERT this but seriously if you can't tell this scene is coming one way or another after watching 15 minutes of the first episode of this show then you may... have some problems.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let me explain why the tweet above has me so goddamn excited.

1. Last year American author Rainbow Rowell wrote a book called Fangirl about a young girl who writes fan fiction. The fan fiction was based on a series of fantasy books - "Simon Snow" that sounded a lot like Harry Potter.

2. Fangirl was awesome - one of my favourite books of 2013. As part of the book it included snippets of the main character's fan fiction. As unlikely as it sounds those snippets were a big part of why the book was so good: I really wanted to find out what happened in that other world.

3. Rainbow Rowell is now writing a book BASED ON THAT FICTIONAL FANTASY SERIES. And I am dying with excitement.

This is... I don't know what this is...

... but it did make me laugh.

“There are ships sailing to many ports, but not a single one goes where life is not painful.”

(Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet)

Things I ate today: marble melting moment

I've recently 'discovered' and fallen for the podcast Mike And Tom Eat Snacks, a podcast that is.... pretty much exactly what it sounds like. What are they about? They pick a snack, they eat a snack, they rate a snack. What do they stand for? Respect for women. 

I'm sorry, that's a joke for fans only. But, honestly: it's a lot of fun, would recommend to a friend.

So it's with a nod to that delightful product that I introduce a new maybe-regular feature for my far less delightful blog in which I, well, rate my daily snacks. Unlike M&T I'm not out there picking different and interesting snacks to write about - this is more of a lazyarse 'write about what I happen to be eating anyway' kind of a thing. Given my afternoon tea treat most days is a little block of Lindt dark chocolate this feature may be... short-lived. Or repetitive

Still, there was no Lindt dark chocolate for me this week. Instead, I present: a marble melting moment I ate yesterday! Excitement!

The snack: A marble melting moment biscuit from The Exchange coffee shop in Osborne Park.

Appearance: Pleasing. Not as bulbous as a conventional melting moment, it looks like two chocolate chip biscuits sandwiched around a generous smear of chocolate icing.

Taste: Unfortunately it does not taste like two chocolate chip biscuits sandwiched around a smear of chocolate icing. For starters, there are no chips, per se, in the biscuit. Rather, the chocolate swirl has the same consistency as the rest of the biscuit. That makes sense, I'm not sure why I expected chips, but it's disappointing nonetheless. The chocolate filling, too, is a little disappointing: it’s chocolate and tastes sort of like icing but not – and here’s my key disappointment – like the butter-cream frosting I’d been hoping for. Again, this is really more my problem than the biscuit's: it didn't promise me butter-cream frosting or chips and yet I was disappointed by their absence. Perhaps I'm being too harsh. Ultimately the biscuit tastes pretty much like a regular melting moment, with chocolate substituted for the conventional vanilla or passionfruit filling, and I am not a big fan of melting moment. In hindsight, I may have chosen... poorly.

The verdict: A perfectly acceptable biscuit snack if you like melting moments. If I were peckish, in the mood for a biscuit and someone offered me one I'd take it and take it gladly. But would I order it again over, say, a chocolate brownie, lemon slice or these salty chocolate bars I've got hooked on lately? Unlikely.

I'm *dying*

Via Facebook

Trap for young players

If you, like me, frequently have to cause to regret reading below the line, you probably need to read this:

The 20 Unhappiest People You Meet In The Comments Sections Of Year-End Lists

That Chris Rock essay everyone's talking about is really good.

But don't take my word for it.

The Victoria Secret show thing is kind of bullshit

I... don't really have that much more to say about it but maaaaan to misquote the greatest movie of all time I do not think the show is about what it says it's about.

In which I quote from the Bible for what I assume will be the first and last time.

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

- St. Paul

Via floccinaucinihilipilificationa

Things that are making me happy today

This this blog exists. That I found this blog. That this blog is probably one of many devoted to this particular (and, might I say, particularly hot) maybe-couple. Sometimes the internet is a wonderful thing

Things I have wanted to post on Facebook this week but cannot because I like my job

FUCK. OFF.

"Hammond, after some consideration, I've decided not to endorse your park"

I have long nursed a serious lady boner (sorry) for the original Jurassic Park franchise. I loved the original book/movie, ditto the follow-up, The Lost World, and the third movie... well, like the rest of the world I signed off on an agreement to pretend that shit sandwich never existed so let's not dwell. 

The original movie in particular is - to me - is a genuine action classic and barely a month goes by without me quoting the line: "Clever girl".... usually at Andy for being almost as clever as a Velociraptor (but probably not quite). It's also a movie that has given me recurring nightmares, including one in which I try to escape the T-Rex by - for reasons unknown - zipping myself inside one of the cushions of my old family couch. Yeeeeeeah. I probably wouldn't survive long in the wild.

Anyways, all of this is a long-winded way of saying that I am 100 per cent excited by the prospect of the latest installment, Jurassic World, even if it's still a good 8 months away. Chris Pratt? Check. Cheap scares? Check. Life finding a way? Double check. At this point I am so so so over superhero movies (my beloved X-Men not withstanding) that I'm especially thrilled by the possibility of a spectacle-type movie that doesn't involve spandex or - God help us - another fucking origin story.

“A man with no enemies is a man with no character."

(Paul Newman)

I'm making a lasagne

I'm not crying. I've just been... cutting onions. But you should probably follow that link and watch the video so long as you're not, I don't know, in a public place or at work where people will think you're a blubbering weirdo.

Wednesday morning reading: Sam de Brito's "Stop whingeing about ABC job cuts" column

Food for thought.

Bar conversations that suggest I may need to get out more.

Her: Is this Shake it Off?

Me: Um, I'm pretty sure I recognise it from my Body Pump class.

I don't believe in God but...

... the evidence is stacking up. First, someone took my all-time favourite superhero franchise and decided to cast super hotties Michael Fassbender and James McEvoy in the reboot of the films. Amazing.

Now they've decided too much of something is, you know, wonderful, and have cast one of my many new movie boyfriends, Oscar Isaac, in the next instalment. Sure, he's supposedly a villain but surely it's not too much to ask that at some point Professor X and Magneto have to team up to take him down in some kind of... hot tub scenario. I mean, that could happen. Sans towels.

Anyway, really I just wanted to say thanks Jebus: I knew that if you did exist you'd be a big homo and into exactly the same kind of dudes as me.

Scenes from a delightful weekend away:

Explaining slash fiction to a colleague with the words: "So if, like, you thought Harry and Draco should have hooked up..."

(Artwork via fanpop)

My new movie boyfriend: Lee Pace

Maybe all men should just wear eyeliner... forever. (Via gothiccharm school)

No jokes, just a recommendation

Fair to say it's pretty hard for most of us to imagine what it would feel like to be trapped inside the wrong body. Harder still to imagine how you process all that if you're a little kid, not to mention if you're the parent of that little kid. It's the morning after I watched last night's episode of Four Corners, featuring transgender kids, and I can't stop thinking about it. That's the power of great and important journalism: when it can make you feel simultaneously sad and happy, powerless and fired up. If you missed it, catch up on iView - it's the best episode I've seen all year.

N.B: On a related note, this article popped up on my Facebook feed today offering an adult perspective on similar issues. I tend to think of myself as an open-minded person (don't we all) and it got me thinking about my tendency to want to put labels on things so, um, yeah. There you go.

If you had a burning desire to see my boyfriend Benedict Cumberbatch do some celebrity impressions and generally be delightful...

... Um, wish granted.

Killer Serial

You may have heard me crap on about my latest addiction: The Serial podcast.

I'm sorry about this, I know I've been shoving it down the throats of friends and family lately.

But also, totally not sorry because it's awesome and I'm doing you a big fat favour by recommending it and giving you the opportunity catch up with a binge listen. It's not exaggerating to say I give a little wheeee of glee every week when the next episode comes out. I have strict rules about where and how I'll listen to it: I have to be able to listen to it all in one go, I try to avoid the possibility of any distractions. I want so much to keep clear in my head all the different characters so, you know, I can get into some wild speculation.

If you're not convinced by my insistence Serial is great and worthy of your time, perhaps you'll listen to The Wall Street Journal? I mean, those guys are smart. They understand numbers and everything. They could probably do your taxes if they wanted.

Testify!

All the seas of joy/ Sound wonderfully near/ Since you've been here

As a teenager I had a big ol' crush on Samuel Johnson, who then played a starring role in not just my fantasies but the popular and really rather good TV show The Secret Life of Us. It helped that he bore (I felt) a passing resemblance to the real life object of yet another (somewhat unrequited) crush: the spritely young chap who would eventually become my husband. (Sidenote: I recently found an old diary which actually drew parallels between my crush on Andy and Samuel's character's crush on Claudia Karvan so... yeah. I was so young and so delusional back them. Also seems like I had kind of a lot of spare time on my hands).

Anyway, I grew out of my Samuel Johnson crush but had I known then what I know now, I suspect I would never have given it up and may have developed into a borderline stalker of the poor bastard because maaaaan he's done a really awfully nice piece of writing for the Saturday Paper this week. You can and you should read it here. If you need me I'll be on the couch mainlining The Secret Life of Us.

"...your double eyelid from birth bothers me..."

I think I might love this a little bit.

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair

I did half my push-ups today on my toes so, yeah... where's my statue?

Confession time: I love pink hair

"I feel like a Geography teacher going "hey guys, I don't care what's cool, and really, doesn't that make e coolest of all?" No. No it doesn't, and no I won't call you Gary."

Read the rest of the charming article from which this snippet springs here.

Thanks (I think?) to Facebook pal Darren Wong for this one. Also: yikes.

Emotionally mature things I did today #12

Resisted the urge to send my annoying neighbour a shitty, passive-aggressive email that would have been deeply satisfying but would also, in Andy's words, Only Encourage Her. Deep breath, deep breath. This too shall pass.

"It was never generally available but it was the Velvet Underground of computers, in that everyone who saw it went on to make their own computer industry."

I don't know a lot about computers but I did own an Amiga 500 back in the day - or, rather, my family did - and I used it a lot. For those who didn't have the pleasure, let me assure you it was GLORIOUS: 20 years on I have nothing but good memories of playing Bubble Bobble, Great Giana Sisters and creating some truly atrocious calendars and birthday cards as gifts for kind family members who were classy about it on the outside but presumably dying of laughter on the inside. That isn't a slam on my calendar-making abilities or anything but, you know, they were printed on a dot matrix printer, so... yeah. There was THAT.

Do you need to have owned an Amiga or a Commodore 64 or have been exposed to a computer in those charming, heady days of the 80s to truly appreciate and warm to this lovely article about nostalgia, friendship and, er, grief and to appreciate paragraphs like this one -?

In 2002, Jim and Tom and I got together and went down to an Amiga festival at a hotel in Maryland. It was—even by the standards of nerd events—well, it was rough. Men had Amiga logos woven into their beards. People with ailments sold disks out of worn cardboard boxes. I had expected it to be like an alumni weekend, a chance to get together and chat about old times. But these people were angry. I remember driving back and feeling stupefied. How could all that sweetness have leached from the world? I blamed Microsoft Windows.

Maybe not but it sure worked for me. It's a long read and a LOT of it went screaming over my head but give it a shot.

Pros and Cons about the movie The Immigrant

Pro: It's not that long: under 2 hours and Lord knows I love a short movie.

Con: It felt longer.

Pro: The acting is great. Marion Cotillard and Joaquin Phoenix are kind of terrific in their way. Jeremy Renner is... entirely bearable.

Con: After a promising start and the introduction of some fascinating characters the movie quickly becomes... kind of boring.

Pro: Marion Cotillard is very pretty.

Con: Maybe even... really boring...

Pro: I mean, really pretty.

Cons: ... And predictable. And it takes itself too seriously.

Pro: There is still probably a great original movie waiting to be made about the American Dream in the context of the flood of immigrants in the 1920s.

Con: This is not that movie.

Things I unexpectedly found myself defending yesterday:

1. BDSM.

That is all.

“You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone.” (Jean Rhys)

 

One Art

Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident

the art of losing’s not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Me want

(Via Rainbow Rowell)

But the 'details' are pretty filthy, I'll tell you that much.

Daniel Radcliffe's charm assault on my heart continues with... rapping. I mean... there's nothing not to like here, is there? Could he be more likeable at this point? In my dream future he and I somehow become best friends and he introduces me to Alan "Professor Snape" Rickman and his Kill Your Darlings co-star (and friend) Dane deHaan and then.... well, I'll spare you the details but THINGS HAPPEN.

I want to be alone

I don’t want to make it sound like I’m walking around the street getting catcalled all the time and, oh God, it's just such a pain being so beautiful and desirable because… no.

But like most young(ish) and nice(ish) looking women I have been on the receiving end of unsought attention from random dudes on the street plenty of times.

Sometimes it’s not bad, even ego-boosting, if it’s done in a polite and respectful way and I’m in a good mood. Sometimes it’s gross and offensive and scary. Sometimes it’s done in a polite and respectful way but it feels like The Worst because I’m in a funk or it’s the third time today or I’m just not in the mood to do the little dance so many of us women do, where we smile politely and brush it off without offending anyone too much. Sometimes I smile politely because the guy seems nice and/or harmless and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Sometimes I smile politely because I’m scared if I don’t he might get angry and hurt me. Hey, my smile says, Please Don’t Murder or Rape Me.

Anyone who thinks I’m being a bit histrionic should check out this video, where a cute New York woman filmed herself walking around the city for a day (in jeans and a tshirt) and got 108 shout-outs from dudes on the street. One hundred and freaking eight. Can you imagine how TIRING it is to face that kind of constant barrage? Can you imagine how FURIOUS she would have felt after 10 hours? Can you imagine how much she would have wanted to just curl up in a dark room somewhere and Not Be Looked At for a few hours?

A reunion

Oh, Alannah, welcome back I HAVE MISSED YOU.

I want my father back, you sonofabitch

I thought this article about time, ageing and The Princess Bride, otherwise known as the Greatest Movie of Our Time, would depress me. It did not. I really love Christopher Guest's bit about the glove because, well: wouldn't you?

Things I can't unthink and wish I could #14

You Always Hurt the One You Love does kind of sound like it might be endorsing domestic violence. Thanks for that one, Andy.

This will not be our year.

There comes a time in every girl's life where she realises that, all going to plan, she'll never fall in love again. You can get super depressed about this super depressing idea if you like. Or you can just listen to this song, maybe have a teensy weep.

Best/worst lines from the new TV series, The Flash

The Best
"The coma... gave me abs?"

The Worst
"We were all struck by that lighting."

Verdict
There's enough goofiness, sufficient laughs and good-looking people being good-looking on screen for me to say that I'm cautiously onboard.

Word

(Via Rainbow Rowell)

I DIE

OH MY FUCKING GOD. SOMEBODY HAS PUT TOGETHER TWO OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS IN THE WORLD: GOOD-LOOKING MEN IN TWEED AND THE MOVIE MAURICE AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO BREATHE RIGHT NOW SO I'M REALLY SORRY ABOUT THE CAPS.

Also the bit about jellied breast milk is... yeah, it's something.

There are many elements of this Annabel Crabb/Leigh Sales interview to enjoy. Whether you have an interest in politics or women's issues or anything really it's just delightful. It also feels like a rare treat to read an interview like this involving two smart and funny women who obviously just like each other and seem to be having a grand old time. As much fun as the entire thing was to read I think only this bit made me really laugh out loud in delight because, well: ew.

"For the book, I collected war stories. The best one is this woman I talked to who managed to hold up her end of an international teleconference work call at 5.30am while the family guinea pig was giving birth next door. Screams of delight turned to horror when the daddy guinea pig started eating the baby guinea pigs. She dealt with all this while still holding up her end of this call. That’s hardcore. I do think there are a lot of women who do this juggle, have stories like this. I find it a kind of exhilarating part of life. It’s kind of hilarious and a bit madcap. You cry probably more of the time than you should. But it also feels like life, and I think it’s sad that a lot of blokes get curtained off from that kind of experience."

You can and you should read the whole thing here.

N.B: In a superficial takeaway I think I want to look like Annabel Crabb when I grow up. For realsies.

Public Service Announcement.

The premise is this: the story of a murder investigation and a journalist's subsequent investigation into whether the right guy was put away for it.

Why you should care is this: the story's true and it's doled out episode-by-episode. It's also awesome.

Conclusion: if you're not listening to The Serial podcast you really should be.

“Today I must be very careful, today I have left my armour at home.” 

(Jean Rhys)

"Hang on tightly, let go lightly."

(Croupier)

I Rise

I don't believe in God and I would never describe myself as a "spiritual person" because, you know, I'm not a detestable human being. And yet every so often I wonder if the universe isn't trying to tell me something or make me do something for my own good.

It happened many years ago when I was using my parents' home computer, typing some document or other. When I went to save the document, instead of the computer automatically using the first few words of the document as a suggested file name, as per the norm, the file name it came up with was Ethan Frome. That's weird, I thought at the time. What or who is Ethan Frome? Ethan Frome, it turned out, was a super famous book by Edith Wharton. Once I discovered that fact I had to read it and maaaaan it is brilliant: a perfectly crafted story I now love, love, love.

I never did figure out how the hell the thing with the computer happened but, hey, thanks universe.

What happened to me more recently is not on that scale of what-the-actual-fuck by any means but it still got me thinking that the world is looking after me. Because for some reason everywhere I go lately I seem to hear about Maya fucking Angelou.

A momentary side note/confession: for someone who loves books and studied English at university I am not very well read and I am particularly terribly versed in The Canon. I've never finished a novel by Charles Dickens, for example, or read a Jane Austen that isn't Pride and Prejudice. Even outside the world according to Harold Bloom I feel like my grasp on Important Literature is very slight. I read a lot for work purposes so when it comes to my personal reading, although I do attempt to read some books Because I Should, most of the time I read for pleasure. For these reasons it so happened I had never made my way around to Maya Angelou. Until now.

For the past few months it seems like every time I tune in to one of my favourite podcasts they're talking about Maya Angelou. Articles on Maya Angelou pop up on the various news and not-news websites I read. I hear a gorgeous line of poetry or a quote and when I try to find the author... it's Maya Angelou. Of course it is.

I'm not a complete boob: Maya Angelous died earlier this year so of course she's being talked about. It's no Ethan Frome mystery. But still, it seemed like a sign I had to go and find something to read by her, to see what all the fuss is about. It didn't take me very long to get sucked down a Maya Angelou wormhole, gorging on delightful poem after delightful poem.

Again, all I can say is: thanks universe.

I Rise
(Maya Angelou)

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

And the bartender’s, like, “Brian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Thanks to Becs for the heads up on this New Yorker totally charming take on the (still kinda funny, I'm sorry) 12 inch pianist joke.

“So a guy walks into a bar one day and he can’t believe his eyes. There, in the corner, there’s this one-foot-tall man, in a little tuxedo, playing a tiny grand piano. So the guy asks the bartender, “Where’d he come from?” And the bartender’s, like, “There’s a genie in the men’s room who grants wishes.”

You can read the whole thing here.

Also...

... heh.

"Life's a piece of shit, when you look at it"

Monty Python were right: Life is kind of a piece of shit. 

I'm not going to kill myself about it or anything but life is hard and boring and unfair and lots of other terrible things. I've had what 90 per cent of the world's population would probably consider to be a blessed life and still much of the time I find myself thinking Silenus might have been onto something.

So it's important to celebrate when good things happen and people are kind and you read a silly story that makes you happy and smiley and want to go out into the world and do only good things. 

I guess this meandering entry really boils down to this: read this cool story about a dude who saved a bear from drowning. Perhaps I should have just opened with that.

Lying Cat is Everything

Why aren't you reading Saga? Why am I only just reading it now?

(For realsies I am not really a graphic novel or comic book person but man I cannot recommend it highly enough)

Just the sort of reassuring words you want to hear from the structural engineer who has found bones buried in the garden of your new house:

"It’s probably just a pet but they looked pretty big and like they might have been... cut so I left them out for you to take a look." 

How to Friendzone a Guy and be Murdered in 10 Days

Um, hah. Yes. I feel this way about a lot of guys in shitty rom-coms. The whole 'he's not taking no for an answer' thing is... not hot. And don't get me started on "friend zone"...

I'm sorry

Because I know this post will mean almost nothing to anybody but me or weirdos who fell in love with Rainbow Rowell's excellent novel Fangirl as lamely as entirely as I did. But if this tweet means what I think it means - and it probably doesn't even but MAYBE IT DOES - then I am beyond excited. Just.. beyond. Come on God I don't believe in: I've been so good lately, don't I deserve this one? Please. Please, please please.

(Comes via the always terrific Rainbow Rowell)

Things I used to worry about when the Coles delivery guy brought my groceries at 7am on a Saturday morning vs. Things I now worry about when the Coles delivery guy brings my groceries at 7am on a Saturday morning

Then:

Do I need to change out of my pajama pants into actual clothes? Should I brush my hair? Is barefoot okay?

Now

Do I... need to put on a bra?

Thursday smut: Kill Your Darlings

This one's for Dans. And, you know, for me.