I'm sat here, typing, in fingerless gloves. I am not sitting in the city centre, or in an underheated coffee serving establishment. I am sat in my room, at my desk. We, as a family, you see, have an aversion to huge heating bills. So we don't really put the heating on very much. My mother is nice and warm because she has a gas heater in her office. I am not. I am sat here typing in fingerless gloves (which are nice, don't get me wrong, but the base line of this is that I am in my room, in my house, and my fingers are a strange shade of blue) whilst the cat snoozes on the bed, all comfy and warm in her fur coat. Sometimes, dear readers, I really really wish I were a cat.

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jared bought me an ipod touch! for a long time i was really anti touch screen but i like it now. i know i wouldn't want it as my phone though. there is a mad libs app! (and frogger <3)

on christmas morning we opened presents and went to my uncle's house for brunch. egg casserole, fruit, homemade yogurt & cinnamon rolls, mmm! then we played this game called "pass the pillow" which was the silliest game i've ever played. amish always come up with this crazy ideas. christmas was nice but something felt off this year. i wasn't as excited for it, it came really quickly, i was in a blah mood. i'm not sure what was wrong.

( favorite christmas presents )

I've been thinking about New Year's resolutions. I know, I know, it isn't January yet, but we seem to have raced through 2009, so I'm thinking 2010 will be knocking on the door before I know it, and I'll be stood there wearing ratty old pajamas, with messy hair and wondering what the everloving fuck is going on.

I'm not much of a one for the 'traditional' ones. Like losing weight, and quitting smoking (pipe down at the back. I will have no peanut gallery. This is my DW!) and being nicer to people. The only reason I might consider losing any weight is that I have a glorious skirt that is just a little too tight. But I'm not really willing to put in the effort, so pfeh to that idea. And as for the smoking, I know, I know, I know! It would be a really good idea, it would save me some money and be a very good thing to do. It's a maybe. Well, to be honest, it's a probably not but I'll consider it. And being nicer to people? I'm nice to people! I am! I just think mean thoughts about them. I don't voice them. Unless they are wrong on the internet, and even then I phrase things nicely. And curse at the screen.

I did think I might go for reducing my impact on the planet. Now, there's only a certain amount I can do. Because I live at home, and am thus, kind of subject to the whims of the PSF and my mother. But I can carry on turning things off at the plug, and only buying what I really need. (Apart from books. Because I always need books. And I buy most of them from secondhand bookshops anyway. Justification, my old friend!) I've already switched to environmentally friendly cleanser and soap and things. Now I need to switch to environmentally friendly shampoo. I used to use Lush's solid shampoos, which I liked but wasn't overly thrilled by. I've also used Lush's liquid ones, which ditto. Now, roz_mcclure posted a link to this no-shampoo method a while ago, and I've been thinking about it. This is the bit where you get involved.

What do you use to wash your hair with? Why? Can I get it in the UK? Does it involve things I already have in my kitchen cupboard - this would be A+?

In other news, I am two books (well, a book and a half because I'm halfway through Ben Okri's In Arcadia) from completing 50books_poc. That's one of my resolutions from last year kept. Hurrah!)

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goals:
more film photography.
eat less dairy because it hurts my stomach.
stop sleeping in so much.
fix the seat in my car.

Thanks to raanve mentioning it several times, I watched Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist last night. I do have thinky thoughts about it, which will probably never see the light of day, but I did really enjoy it for the most part. It felt very teenage and true, in a way. Plus, I always enjoy spotting bits of New York that I've been to. That said, I did have a moment of doubt when I saw Max Brenner's on screen. And the almighty google has failed me because of my limited knowledge about New York street address references. littlebutfierce or wrdnrd are there two Max Brenner's in NYC? Or just one? Because if there's just one, then I saw it on screen. If there are two, then I may or may not have seen it on screen.

Also, can everyone say hi! to my new crush: Kat Dennings. Any (semi-famous? I don't know! I'm British!) female actor that has this picture on the front page of her website gets the thumbs up from me. Plus, she reads! she likes mosh pits! she hates spiders! *swoon*

And now I must get back to finishing my rs_small_gifts bonus gift!fic. Oh, this life, it is so hard.

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winter time kitty.

( tree & sweater day & wine drinking )

it's hard to believe that christmas is tomorrow. when i was younger i remember how long it seemed to take for this day to come every year. now it's just..here! i don't even think about it. the "joys" of growing up. my presents are wrapped and ready to be opened. we're planning on presents at 8am, mimosas! then brunch at my uncle's house.

It's been a strange week for religion related news in this city I call home.

First of all we had Father Tim Jones allegedly encouraging people to shoplift.

What he actually said was:

The life of the poor is not an idyllic life of simplicity in modern Britain. It is a constant struggle, a constant battle, a constant minefield of competing opportunities, competing responsibilities, obligations and requirements, a constant effort to achieve the impossible. For many at the bottom of our social ladder, lawful, honest life can sometimes seem to be an apparent impossibility ...

My advice in these circumstances, when people have been let down so very badly by the rest of society, is that they should not hurt anybody, and cope as best they can. The strong temptation is to burgle or rob people – family, friends, neighbours, strangers. Others are tempted towards prostitution, a nightmare world of degradation and abuse for all concerned. Others are tempted towards suicide.

Instead, I would rather that they shoplift. My advice, as a Christian priest, is to shoplift. ...

I would ask that they do not steal from small family businesses, but from large national businesses, knowing that the costs are ultimately passed on to the rest of us in the form of higher prices. I would ask them not to take any more than they need, for any longer than they need. And I would offer this advice with a heavy heart.

(Asda, owned, by the way, by Walmart, then got in a huff and said that this was stealing from hardworking staff who were looking forward to their bonuses. Father Tim then reminded them that they do not have, ahem, the best track record on caring for their staff. I kind of love Father Tim right now.)

I also kind of love the Archbishop of York, John Sentamu who became involved in the debate about Uganda and the laws against homosexuality that their parliament is trying to pass. (For more detail this is the full text of the proposed bill, and this is what one columnist for the Guardian has to say.)

The Archbishop, who is from Uganda, said this:

Dr Sentamu told BBC Radio 4's Today programme: "I'm opposed to the death sentence. I'm also not happy when you describe people in the kind of language you find in this private member's bill."
He added it seemed not only victimising but also "a diminishment of the individuals concerned".

In other news, albeit kind of related, Gareth Thomas comes out! I know that most of my non-UK readers are now going "who? Why does Liseuse care?" Gareth Thomas is a rugby player. He was a Wales and British Lions captain which is kind of a big deal. And no matter how much this (very irritating) reporter tries to say 'it's not a big deal because it was kind of an open secret within the rugby world', it's kind of a big deal.

And now back to our regularly scheduled inane babbling about Erasmus/Linacre, books and being irritated at my mother.

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Today is shaping up to be awesome. I stayed up until three in the morning reading Funny Boy by Shyam Selvadurai and then poddled out of bed at about ten this morning. I was on my second cup of coffee and the doorbell rang. It was a parcel from amazon. Which meant I had that minute freakout of "did I get drunk and order things on the internet? I don't remember getting drunk and ordering things on the internet" (this may happen more frequently than I care to admit). But no! It was a present from A., who I did my MA with. I am all a squee with joy. I think it's books. I love books. (News at Ten: Dog bites man.)

Today is also awesome because I completely had a dream last night about Erasmus/Linacre slash. You see, I was reading Rosemary O'Day's The Professions in Early Modern England yesterday and I came across the sentence "Erasmus sought treatment for calculus: Linacre saw him and called in an apothecary to make Erasmus a special bath, which Linacre supervised"(194) and twittered about it. Calculus, by the way, is another name for kidney stones - calcification, and all that, but the idea of having an "affliction of the math" (credit to wrdnrd) is much more entertaining. And led to a truly awesome conversation on twitter about Erasmus trying to flirt with Linacre, and Linacre just not getting it. I don't think I will ever actually write Erasmus/Linacre slash, but the idea amuses me immensely.

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So, I think I have figured out how to record, either, my voice or me talking to the screen on Cromarty, and because I love thee, my readers, I was wondering if there is anything you would like to hear, or see, me reading to you. Poetry, bits of fic, the shipping forecast. Ask and you may receive!

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Thank you such_heights and shaggydogstail for the lovely Christmas cards. They have just been plucked out of our postbox and placed on the side.

--

In other news, I am feeling very accomplished today. I stayed up until about three this morning, reading and taking notes on a Harold Cook article, then I finished my book Bee Season by Myla Goldberg. Contrary to my usual habits I did not then lounge in bed until, well, around about now, this morning. I was up with my alarm at the not-particularly-early for all those morning people, but kind of early for me, time of half past nine. I have read some more (bizarrely early modern health contracts in Bologna are kind of fascinating), broken my fast and been to the library. Huzzah for me!

The rest of today will include reading some more, alas I have finished the book about early modern Bologna and none of the other choices look quite as fascinating, doing some laundry and then going to Nine Lessons and Carols at the Minster. I'm hoping that the Nine Lessons part goes off without a hitch because good grief my mother has been trying to turn it into a military expedition. We only have to go six miles, into the centre of York, meet, queue and then sing some carols badly. You would think we were arranging a trip to Uzbekistan. *Deep breaths*

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I got home from work today to find that my mother and PSF had, as a surprise, dismantled my old desk and put up the new one that I got as an early Christmas present. As an extra surprise my mother had also bought me some new blinds to replace the old, falling to pieces ones, that had been up at my window. Over Achieving Friend laughed at me when I said I was getting a desk for Christmas. The problem was that I had this huge corner desk, which was really big. But had no actual usable space. I now have a traditional sort of a desk, with drawers and a cupboard and enough space to keep my hairdryer and straighteners in my room. This might not sound like a big deal, but I loathe having to worry about the noise my hairdryer makes and whether or not I might be waking someone up.

I also found out when I got home from work that Greta Salpeter, of The Hush Sound has a solo project! Gold Motel (warning! that's a myspace link). I love Greta Salpeter's voice (and she's mighty foxy as well - see here for evidence. Warning! image heavy) and am thus very very excited about this.

In other music news, I don't think I've ever mentioned my epic crush on Amanda Fucking Palmer to the flist, but, flist, I have one. And the reason I mention it is rose71 because she brought this to my attention. Amanda Fucking Palmer, playing a ukelele and singing, in her kitchen, at three in the morning. Plus! she gets the pronunciation of aluminium right. L♥ve.

(Oh, and if anyone wants to read fic in which Greta and Amanda both star, alongside a lot of the bandom!boys, there is an awesome one here. Alas, it is rather focused on the bandom!boys, but the girls get some whipsmart lines.)

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Thursday night we entered Regent Street from Soho and found snow falling onto us. We cheered (both meanings). Hours later, we have sated ourselves with discussion of Wolf Hall and chosen Thus Spake Zarathustra for February's book (I had pitched The Psychic Soviet). At 10pm I walked on icy pavements with snow still falling on my way to Charing Cross. Snow in December unusual for London. Snow from the unfreezing North, where today many fragile, complex, organic things are falling and melting. Averting my eyes again from the free papers on the train, realising at last that I've been avoiding the news, not wanting to know that the Summit is a disaster, that the inevitable finally has a predictable date. X months to live rather than could live for years yet. This week, my youth ended as from now on life will be about holding body and soul together as ways of living that we as hopeful people hope for are made finally impossible at least for us. All the horror that comes from the unleashing of the will of the greedy, selfish and power-abusing is what will characterise the middle of the century. What will be a right livelihood then? How much harder will it be to (convince others) to believe in/practice altruism?

Snow is not a promise, just a blessing that is temporary and momentary.

http://wakeupfreakout.org/film/tipping.html
http://www.ageofstupid.net/