I don’t love him because he doesn’t find it too annoying when I laugh like a donkey, or burp loudly, or steal his drink at a meal out, or talk incessantly about Philosophy and the books I’m reading, or tease him about his surprise on Saturday for his birthday, or any one of the billion irritating things I do.
I love him because he also finds them endearing, and makes me feel like it’s okay to do them all. In fact, I think I’m pretty damn lucky that it’s me he’s being annoyed by.
I only managed to read two books this week, and both of those were finished today whilst waiting for my car to be serviced. Sorry about that peoples. However, I did have a Very Important Essay to finish, and I did get a 2:1 for it, so yay!
Anyway.
Clocks – Agatha Christie
Status: New read
Started: 1st February 2010
Finished: 8th February 2010
Description: If you’ve ever turned on ITV3 and seen a small, fat man with a fantastic moustache and a ridiculous accent talking about “ze little grey cells” then you’ll know about Agatha Christie. This book is a Poirot book, even though Poirot isn’t in it much, although it is one of the lesser well known ones. A phonecall comes to a typing bureau asking that a typist, specifically Shelia Webb, comes to an old lady’s house that afternoon to type for her, with strict instructions to enter the house and the drawing room if no-one answers the door. Upon following the instructions, Shelia finds a dead body on the floor. When questioned by the police later, the blind old lady insists that she didn’t make such a phone call, and she cannot understand the mysterious appearance of the four clocks that have materialised in her drawing room with the body, or why they have all been stopped at 4:13…
Thoughts: Secret confession: I love Agatha Christie. I know it’s in bad taste, but I do. This isn’t one of her best, but it is rather good. The thing I adore – the thing I have always adored – about her books is the level of humanity she gives to the characters. I like characters. I love the character of Poroit, how dapper and sweet he is, how he is a nice character even if he is fundamentally flawed and how he has little quirks, like his penchant for tisanes, and his need for order. I love how the protagonist in this, Colin Lamb, falls in love with Shelia Webb and his desperation to marry her even when he’s trying to solve a murder. Agatha Christie isn’t often very deep – although books such as Murder on the Orient Express do throw up some interesting ethical questions – but her books are pretty much always enjoyable.
The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas – John Boyne
Status: New read
Started: 5th February 2010
Finished: 8th February 2010
Description: Bruno isn’t very happy when he is forced to leave his lovely five storey house in Berlin for another one. He has to leave his three Best Friends For Ever, his beloved grandparents, his school and his lovely house for a brand new one. This new house is horrible – it’s only three floors, he has a tutor rather than a school, there are lots of soliders in and out of the house all the time and there’s no one to play with. In fact, the only people around (apart from the soldiers) are the people outside, who odd people behind the fence who all wear striped pyjamas…
Thoughts: I didn’t like this, until I got to the point where Bruno falls off the swing and Pavel, the vegetable slicer, cleans his cut leg and reveals he used to be a doctor, which Bruno doesn’t believe. The genius of this book lies within how you have to be a detective to discover the real story, and the amount of unanswered questions. Bruno talks about living at Out-With, about the time the Fury came to dinner, and how he doesn’t believe his little friend in the striped pyjamas when he says he lived with 11 families to one room. He is so totally ignorant of everything, and it’s fascinating. It also leaves some unanswered questions that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about, such as what happened to Pavel, the horrifying incident Bruno can’t bring himself to write about, and was his mother having an affair with Kotler?
The only thing I’d have to say is that this book is (seemingly) not very gripping. My mother and I have just had a huge argument about this book when I asked her whether she’d seen the film/read the book. She thought it was hugely disappointing, because she’d seen it spoken about favourably “on the telly” so assumed it would be fantastic and she’d like it. Apparently, it didn’t grip her, as nothing happened. Not like this amazing Lynn Andrews book, where there was a little boy and girl, and they went to the country during the war so they wouldn’t get bombed, but they got seperated, and the woman who was looking after the girl kidnapped her, and and and the boy couldn’t get help from the village so he decided to go home, but he couldn’t hitch hike so he train hiked…and then he found his parents and they went and rescued the girl. So yes. Read that instead if you want gripping. If you want a really different viewpoint on the Holocaust, read this.
As part of my degree, I have to do a module on Logic. It is so hard that I cannot attempt to do the homework without dissolving into sobs. I’d try and explain why it’s so hard, but unless I can stand in front of you with the book and the CD and all the excercises there’s really no point.
I feel really, really lost. When I do Logic, I wish I’d taken an easier degree subject. I wonder if I’m too stupid to do Philosophy at Warwick. It’s not that I’m not trying, I am – I’m trying my arse off – but it’s just not working.
The sadness from this snowballs into self doubt and self hatred and general loathing of everything Me related.
Sorry.
I know it’s melodramatic. I feel so crappy right now.
Warning: There will be explicit mentions of breasts in this post.
I’m about to go swimming. I haven’t been swimming in absoloutely ages, not since a weekend in Cardiff that was months ago, so I’m quite excited.
The only problem is my swimsuit. Although it fits fine on my tummy, hips, legs etc, it’s massively too small on my boobs. I was a 34F back then. I’m a 34HH/32J now. That’s quite a jump in size, and now my poor swimsuit can barely contain them. Well, let’s face it, barely anything can contain them. My bras, which about the same as a small tractor, can barely contain them. When you look at them your mind can barely contain the thought of them.
Which is actually one of the reasons why I’m swimming in the first place. I’ve started a diet. I know, kept that one quiet didn’t I? Being honest, it’s only been three days, but still. I’ve been very good in those three days. I want to lose weight, mainly off my boobs but off everywhere too, because I don’t want to have to fork out the ridiculous prices for speacilist bras/tops/dresses that will fit my waist and my enormous bust.
So. Diet and excercise. I won’t lie, I’m not looking forward to the excercise bit. I barely have enough time to blow my nose, let alone work out, and I don’t particularly enjoy gym type activities. I’m hoping I can burn off enough calories by dog walking, swimming, that kind of thing. If anyone has any weight loss tips I’d be happy to hear them.
I got an essay back today. This was an essay that will possibly affect my mark for this year – it’s in a module where I have to write 3 essays in nine weeks, and they’re all marked and the two best marks are averaged to give me the mark for the module.
On my essay, I got…drum roll, please… 62%. Which is a 2:1.
Everyone is really pleased with this apart from me.
Sigh. I know I expect to much of myself, but I’ve been at Uni for a term and a half now and haven’t gotten a first yet, and I so want a first. I know it’s only my first year and I’m supposed to be improving … but still. The annoying thing is that I can talk about Cartesian dualism and it’s problems for hours. I can argue it, debate it, inform it and asses it…but I can’t write it down. Considering I want to write for a living one day, this is not encouraging.
Hurrumph.
Anyway. Still quite chirpy. It’s better than my last essay, which I got 58% on. That’s a 2:2. Shocking event.
I love walking my dogs, I’m surprised I don’t do it more. I live in a village surrounded by fields and lovely muddy walks and fields and interesting things to see, so walking my dogs is always interesting. Plus, I love the way my dogs walk.
I have two dogs. They are called Minstrel and Malteser, or Minnie and Malty. Yes, I did name them. I was 13 at the time. Let’s move on. This is Malty:
And this is Minnie:
Malty runs all over the place, and looks all strong and powerful and elegant. It’s incredibly nice to watch him run; I’ll put a video up of it at some point.
Minnie, however, it a joy when we go for walkies. She jumps up and down with happiness when I pick up the leads, and then she’ll waddle over to the fields, making sure she doesn’t move more than ten paces away from me. As soon as she hits the fields she’s off…for about twenty paces, before she realises that I’m still walking behind at my normal place and will either waddle back over to me or wait for me. When she tires of that, she’ll run off but look behind as if to say “Well? Are you coming?” and make sure I’m still there.
When she walks, her bottom wiggles like that scene in Aristocats with the geese, and when she gets tired she’ll stop and sniff the air to give herself chance to breathe, pretending that she’s caught a scent when really she’s a fat doggy who is tired from her walk. I love her.
So. I’m thinking of going for a .com/co.uk/.net rather than .wordpress.com for the Blog. I’m also thinking of shifting round the layout and having my own header – how this will work I have no idea – and basically giving the whole Blog a total re-vamp.
The thing I’m wondering about (aside from how the hell I actually do all of the above) is whether or not I should change the name. Jimsy Jampots. Hurm. I remember my first Blog post, and the lovely Bête de Jour commented:
“Not sure about the name though. Jimsy Jampots? Jimsy Jampots? Are you absolutely sure about that?”
And I’ve felt a bit self concious about it ever since. However, I have absoloutely no idea what I would call it if I did change the name.
Any thoughts?
My dad gave me this poem yesterday, and I fell in love with it a little bit.
The Garden of Love – William Blake
I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.
Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And “Thou shalt not,” writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.
So, the other day I mentioned briefly that I’d seen this. It’s a website that will let people donate to a campaign, specifically the Arrest Blair campaign. The founder, George Monbiot wrote the following to describe it:
“This site offers a reward to people attempting a peaceful citizen’s arrest of the former British prime minister, Tony Blair, for crimes against peace. Anyone attempting an arrest which meets the rules laid down here will be entitled to one quarter of the money collected at the time of his or her application.”
Mr. Monbiot says he is doing it:
“- To remind people that justice has not yet been done.
- To show Mr Blair that, despite his requests for people to “move on” from Iraq, the mass murder he committed will not be forgotten.
- To put pressure on the authorities of the United Kingdom and the countries he travels through to prosecute him for a crime against peace, or to deliver him for prosecution to the International Criminal Court.
- To discourage other people from repeating his crime“
Unless you’ve been living under a rock or are not British, I’m sure you’ll know that the Iraq inquiry has been going on for months now. Various people have given evidence and been interrogated – including one Mister Tony Blair himself. If you’re not up to speed with the enquiry and what’s going on, here and here are excellent links.
So, the main point of this post. What I think about Arrest Blair. Surely, I should start this by writing about what I think of the Iraq war itself?
Well, not really.
Because what I think about the Iraq war, in this case, doesn’t really matter.
I’m not saying that what people think about the war isn’t important, of course it is. The morality of the war is something that should be debated, as should whether or not we should have gone to war. As many different opinions as possible need to be heard, it’s an issue that should be looked at from as many angles as possible in order to come close to some kind of truth or conclusion. But whatever conclusion we eventually come to by doing this, that’s not what’s important here. There is a huge difference between something immoral and something illegal, and here what needs to be explored is the latter – not was the war immoral, but was it illegal.
The government, more than anyone, need to obey laws. Politicians have placed themselves in an institution, and they either need to have total trust in that institution and therefore follow it and live by the ideals it sets out, or they need to set out to change it. When a government or a politician breaks a law, it is the worst kind of betrayal and hypocrisy. These are supposed to be people that we can place our trust in. If they can’t honour that trust, then they don’t deserve to have it in the first place and should relinquish that trust. By that, I mean that they should be forced to leave parliament, and they should certainly be punished as any other citizen would be for what they have done.
I’m not saying that they have to be squeaky clean – that would be impossible. I don’t care if a politician has had an affair, or has a BDSM fetish, or smoked cannabis when they were younger. The first is not illegal, just immoral, the second is purely a matter of taste, and the second is something they did long ago. None affect their power to lead the country, and none of them break the law at that moment- with the cannabis example, it’s in the past. But as soon as they enter politics, they better damn well obey the laws, because without it they lose the trust of the public and what is the point of appointing a leader if you cannot trust them? None, and so without trust they should be gotten rid of.
So, back to Arrest Blair. Should it go ahead?
In one way, I think yes. I found about this campaign via this article, and if what it says is true then yes, the war was illegal, and as I have said, I think that anyone who breaks a law should be punished for it, especially if they’re in a position of trust like in government. Blair was a democratic leader at the time of the war, and in a democracy we are allowed (and supposed to) show what we think. Arrest Blair is ordinary citizens showing what they think and believe.
But in another way, no. Arrest should be about punishment, and punishment shouldn’t be about vengeance, but reform. I’ve always thought that smacking a child to punish it should be allowed – but the smacking shouldn’t be done in anger, it should be done calmly and with no intention but to punish the child, not make the parent feel better. This same system applies to this. Does Mr. Monbiot want to arrest Blair because he feels that such action is just and needed, or because he has a personal desire to see Blair punished? I don’t think it’s the former. I know there’s the argument that the campaign is in itself just a way of gathering publicity and showing the government what The People want and they don’t actually need anyone to arrest Blair…but there’s currently a £10045.99 fund, a quarter of which will go to anyone who performs the citizen arrest, and people will start to act on it for the money. One person already has.
So, what do I think? I suppose the easiest way of saying what I think about the issue is this: Blair should be arrested and punished if the war actually was illegal, but not by this campaign. If it is illegal, then the arrest and punishment should be issued on behalf of the Iraq inquiry. Sadly, I think there’s more chance of a magic elephant flying down from the heavens with Wonderwoman’s lasso of justice than that actually happening. Like Sam Burnett says here – it seems to be more a political show than anything else. Maybe that’s what we should be focusing our efforts on objecting to.
Well. This won’t be my best post, as I am writing it on my lunch at work, desperately cramming in a jacket potato, carrot cupcake and writing a whole post into the 30 minutes break I get all day. I have stupidly left two pieces of Very Important University Work until the last minute, so will be killing myself to get it all sorted for Wednesday at 2pm. Lovely.
Inconceivable – Ben Elton
Status: New read
Started: 25th January 2010
Finished: 27th January 2010
Description: Ben Elton. You know Ben Elton. He wrote Blackadder, and a whole host of other novels. I’d read Blind Faith, Dead Famous and First Casualty before this one, and liked them all. Blind Faith is a truly amazing book, a cross between 1984, Brave New World and OK! magazine, and I hugely recommend it. He’s also been a comedian apparantly, but I’ve never seen/heard him do that. This novel, oddly enough, is about a couple trying to conceive. Lucy wants a baby more than anything, Sam is happy to go along with it if it keeps her happy. However, what Sam wants more than anything is to write a film and have it created. He gets an idea about writing about their struggles, but Lucy is not happy about the idea. Drama ensues.
Thoughts: I like Ben Elton. So many people don’t. They see me reading a Ben Elton novel and groan, ask me how I can stand it and then shake their heads pityingly, like I’m missing some vital apparatus used in decisions of taste. I think it’s because I have never seen his stand-up, as many people tell me they can’t read his books without hearing his voice. I like this book too, but it’s certainly not my favourite. It’s written in letter style – Lucy and Sam write letters in a sort of diary and that’s the only storytelling device we have – and I much prefer his books written in the third person. I did, however, read it completely in two days, eschewing other things I had to do (such as Uni work, ahem) to do so. That’s got to be a good thing, right?
Watermelon – Marian Keyes
Status: New read
Started: 25th January 2010
Finished: 30th January 2010
Description: In Marian’s first ever novel, Claire is left by her husband on the day she gives birth. She moves back to Ireland to cope with her newly found status as a mother, and a single one at that.
Thoughts: Another Marian Keyes, I know, I know. I promise not to read another for next week, mainly as they’re all quite long and I have a ton of Uni work. But there is a shock – I didn’t much like this one. Maybe because it’s her first novel and her writing style has developped. Maybe because the main character is really fucking dull/stupid. Maybe it’s the way Claire writes – it’s in first person and she talks.
Like this.
I know? How annoying.
But still.
I really didn’t like Claire. I usually fall a little bit in love with main characters – Claire is the sister of the protagonist in Is Anybody There? and I got angry at a negative description of her – but Claire was bleh. Not a fan. Not at all.
Comversations with the fat girl – Liza Palmer
Status: Re-read
Started: 30th January 2010
Finished: 31st January 2010
Description: Maggie Thompson is 27, has an MA in artefact restoration, lives on her own with a paranoid dog, works in a coffee house, is in love with a busboy called Domenico who doesn’t know she exists, has a beautiful best friend who treats her like shit, and she is fat. She wants these things to change.
Thoughts: Another of my favourite books, mainly because I could identify with Maggie’s pain with almost every area of her life. I didn’t actually enjoy it that much this time round, maybe because I read lots more books and like different writing styles now. Either way, this is a perfectly nice piece of chick lit, and has my favourite final page of any novel ever.
 | Amy on Uni melodrama |
 | tiina on Uni melodrama |
| Amy on My boobs and me |
 | Ashish on My boobs and me |
| Amy on Where I bitch about essay… |
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