August 10th

It’s been a quiet day. I’ve had a nervous tummy all day though, it’s weird, I don’t know what’s caused it, just anxious I guess. 

Today I was reminded that my little issues are insignificant, and that no matter how sucky my life may seem at times, I am incredibly lucky to be so fortunate as to have my health and safety. It would be disrespectful to reveal anything further, even though the people involved will never see this, I’m just keeping you updated on my ever changing state of mind. This is it just now. 

I am excited for: Sunday so much now, John Green reading and YouTube gathering in Edinburgh, in case I haven’t prattled on about it enough already. 

On the topic of the John Green reading, I was nervous even thinking about it last night, how is one supposed to contain themselves in front of someone they admire so much? It will take a great deal of self restraint on my part not to just a) scream and yell “You’re my hero” or b) (the more horrifying possibility) just cry… right there… cry. Whatadouchebag I am. 

 I wish: I will receive my cheque for filming tomorrow so I can feed my cat and my self

I will: Do productive things tomorrow. 

I aspire to: Write 30 pages tomorrow (it’s a do-able challenge as long as I get up early enough).

Given my newly renewed respect for life, I am going to write a list of things I hope an aspire to, whether in the near or distant future. It might be interesting to look back on one day. Or it might make me depressed and flighty like that episode of How I Met Your Mother when Marshall reads his letter to his future self and realises he’s failed himself. 

Dear future Paige, 

On the 10th of August 2010, these were your hopes and dreams, while I don’t expect that you will follow every one of these, I do hope that you are happy and fulfilled.

1. I wish to pass University, with honours and a decent grade without resitting a year.

2. I wish to be employed doing something I have a passion for, that challenges me, every single day. 

3. I wish to have my health, and that all the people I love have the same. 

4. I wish to have a novel published (not self published, it doesn’t count unless the book industry is so drastically different that this is the norm)

5. I wish to travel to America, Canada Italy, France, Egypt, Australia, New Zeland, Berlin, Amsterdam, and all the other beautiful places in the world.

6. I wish to beat Super Mario Bros for DS, because it is haaard. 

7. I wish to lose 2 stone by the end of the year. 

8. I wish to retain that weight. 

9. I wish to make many, many new important friends, but still hold on to the important ones from now. 

10. I wish to direct a play for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

11. I wish to write a play which is shown in a professional theatre.

12. I wish to never hold a grudge. 

13. I wish to learn a second language

14. I wish to be kind and gracious in my life as much as I can, and for people to remember me for this.  

I think that’s doable, don’t you?

If you’d like, leave me a note with your hopes. I’d love to read them. 

August 9th

I have spent almost my entire day in this exact spot, trying to be creative. I have my “staring at the computer” glasses on to save my poor eyes. To be honest, I’ve not felt very creative most of the day, but there’s just something about listening to John Green on blogtv that kind of spurs me on a little. 

He spent quite a lot of time discussing copyright and piracy facing the book industry. Given that this is the area I would like the break in to eventually, it was interesting to hear the argument from someone immersed in the industry. As I’ve said before, I have a great respect for books and what they mean to individuals and groups of people. As a result I’m generally opposed to piracy of books. However, I own a lot of books, when I say a lot of books, I mean a LOT of books, and last christmas, my gift was an Amazon Kindle, an ebook reading device which is more popularised in the U.S. than here in the U.K. I chose this gift because during term time at Uni I spend the vast majority of my time on one of the four trains I need to take in a day and a big book is a huge weight to add to my handbag along with all my school books and equipment I need to carry around. In fact, there were more than a few books I hadn’t read for precisely this reason, they were simply too heavy to leave the house with. Hence, an ebook reader was a very clever investment.  

So, herein lies my predicament, I already have hundreds of books I’d like to put on my e-reader, yet amazon and everyone vehemently on the “downloading book is piracy… baaaad pirates” side of the debate would like me to spend the cost of an ebook, on top of what I’ve already paid for it’s physical counterpart in order to have the privilege of having it on my little gadget. Well I say, no. Until such times as the publishing industry can work out some way to allow people to download ebooks for free using a serial number or something when they’ve bought a physical copy, then I will illegally download. I’m sorry, I have an immense respect and admiration for published authors, I just don’t see why I should pay twice for the same product. 

Although, following this, I do not condone downloading books you have not bought already, it’s stealing and damaging to its creator. If we don’t want the authors we admire so deeply to have to stop doing what they’re doing and thus deny us their amazing creations, then by god, just pay the £3.00 or whatever it is for an ebook download. 

This is probably going to be another disjointed and odd debate on my side, but I have to wonder about this “book stealing” even I feel so strongly about. A lot of the books I’ve read have been passed through the two other women in my family, and to some of my trusted friends who I know will look after my book. Is that book stealing? Lending out a book? Because according to the copyright notice at the start of most books, it is. I think any author would share my opinion that a lot of books find their audience through word of mouth, and I know that for myself and a lot of my friends, if I like a book I’ve been loaned, I’ll buy a copy for myself, so that can’t be damaging for the book industry surely?

On a similar note, if I were to download a book on a skint week, I will more than likely buy a physical copy that I can pencil in and highlight my favourite parts when I’m feeling a little more affluent, and in that respect, it’s really no different from a library, and one could even argue, beneficial for the authors by allowing people to read before they buy and decide whether they like what they see. I know there are many people who wont use it this way, and think it’s ok just to take whatever book are “available” on certain sites to those who look for it, with no regard for it’s creator. 

This is a very similar argument to the much publicised war against the pirates in the music industry, and the theft of anyone’s creative output is awful, but I believe this is worse. Writers put their blood sweat and tears in to their books, even more so a first novel, for years, just for someone on the internet to take it like it’s a complimentary mint. It would take someone with either a very thick skin or a very weighty bank account not to be disheartened by this. 

Perhaps unless some clever monkey thinks of a way to outsmart the pirates (unlikely), there is perhaps no way to avoid this issue in our now digital world. 

August 8th

August 8th

Arrrg!!

I can’t think today, and I need to. It is no good. I should not have stayed up so late last night, knowing I have so much to do, or napped this afternoon because it was so hot after I came home from work, or wasted time on facebook… again. I should not have left everything til the last minute, as is my unfortunate habit. What a silly Paige. 

This is a rubbish August 8th post, however, here are some thoughts for the day. 

Why do people steal cutlery from restaurants, knowing it wont match anything you already have in the house?

Why do people go in to cafes/restaurants, read the menu, then ask for something that’s not on there? Do you think there’s a secret menu we’re hiding from you? … Tubes. 

 

August 7th

August 7th

Oh my goodness. Toy Story was fantastic. It was everything I hoped it would be and so much more. To me, it was a film that was made mostly for the now adults who, like me, remember being taken to the cinema way back in 1996 to see Woody and team off on an enchanting adventure. Now, 14 years later, we’re all a little older, yet the magic still holds. I didn’t just feel nostalgic as I watched Woody get all exasperated with the other toys when they weren’t listening, I felt literally catapulted back to my five year old self, wide-eyed with amazement. 

Toy Story 3 has come out at exactly the right time in my life for it to be just that bit more poignant, I, like Andy have just flown the nest, and feel tug of my child self every once and a while, wishing to be back at home with all my teddies around me in bed and nothing more to worry about than whether I would play with my teddies or Barbies that day. My parents have always reminded me just how much I loved my own Woody, a bear bought for me not long after I was born, Scruffy, who now lives up to his name more than ever, his once soft fur more than a little matted and faded and rather large bald patch on the back. Scruffy went everywhere with me for probably what was a little longer than most children, and even when it came the time that Scruffy didn’t get to go on excursions anymore, he slept in my bed with me. I would be devastated if anything happened to him, and he would definitely be the least practical item on my “five things I’d save in a fire” list. But even at nearly 19, I couldn’t part with him. Which is I suppose where Andy and I differ. I am too selfish to give Scruffy away, even to a nice little girl who promised to look after him and love him as much as I do. I expect, even when I’m middle aged, married and altogether a grown up. Scruffy will have his place in my bedroom with me where he belongs. Everyone has their comforts, mine is Scruffy. 

 

August 6th

It’s amazing how low my body’s tolerance for caffeine is.  I had an espresso at work this morning, just to perk me up because I wasn’t feeling quite awake yet. It didn’t just perk me up, I would probably swear blind that I was moving about 25% faster that everyone else for the three hours I was at work, and subsequently started a full blown assault on my own kitchen when I got home. Dishes? Done. Counters? Spotless. Washing? Emptied, and re-filled. Eeep, I need to drink coffee more often, shame I hate instant. 

My work trial went well, I’m working again Saturday night and I think I have the job for definite. Score!

It’s scary trying to be a grown-up, I began to write an invoice for a filming job I did as a favour for some friends, only to realise I had absolutely no idea how to go about writing an invoice. Google is my friend. Had to use a template and adjust accordingly. Still, in the days before Google, it must have been a lot more difficult to learn how to do these things properly, after all, there’s no one around here who would be able to tell me how to do things like that. It’s exciting though, makes me feel like it’s the first step of doing proper business, getting paid for doing something that I’m actually trained in. 

I am going to see Toy Story 3 tonight, and I am incredibly excited. Been waiting for ages and no one would take me. I have been advised to take tissues, and seeing as I’m a total wimp when it comes to anything even a little sad, this is probably very sound advice. Also, I can finally stop petulantly sticking my fingers in my ears any time someone makes mention of it in case they spoil it for me. 

I know it is only August 6th and I have a long way to go, but I genuinely believe -to the best of my memory’s capabilities - that 6 days is the longest time I’ve ever done something day by day consecutively. This is a bit of an achievement for me, not tooting on my own trumpet or anything, just making note of the fact that I’m really enjoying this bloggy stuff. Also, If you’re reading, please leave me notes, I like talking to people :)

I came across this wonderful little invention today

http://lab.andre-michelle.com/pulsate

It’s hypnotic and wonderful, I urge you to play with it for at least five minutes. 

I am now off to make myself look presentable enough to be seen by vertebrae who arn’t my cat.  

Til tomorrow chums…

August 5th

I have a work trial tonight… yes, again. I am terrified… again. I just hate starting new jobs. This one is even easier because I know lots of people who work at this particular restaurant, including my boyfriend, and yet I am still bricking it. 

Wouldn’t life just be so much easier if you could get a practise run in a place when no one else is there, just to let you work out where everything’s kept, how to manoeuvre around it without banging yourself off table legs, where they hide the more obscure brands of alcohol and whether diet coke is, in fact situated beside regular coke (I have worked in places where this hasn’t been the case, it just makes no sense to me). No such luck and tonight I will be thrown in to an evening service with absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Yey.

Not that I’m not excited, I am. If this works out I’ll have a job that give me about 10 hours a week at least, I’ll know what they are more that 6 hours before the shift starts, and I wont have to walk a mile an a half to get there, these things are luxuries I don’t currently possess. I’m just scared, especially since my boyfriend works there, and he’s made me sound like this competent, sensible person, I just don’t want to embarrass him. Or drop anything breakable… 

Which, to be frank, is very likely as I shake like a dashboard ornament when I’m nervous. 

In another note, it’s my birthday next week, and I’m happy to already know my plans for it. This level of organisation is extremely unusual for me :)

August 4th

Instead of doing productive things and working properly. I’m sitting playing super mario brothers for DSi. Some may argue that this goes against everything that I said in my post yesterday, I disagree. I think that in playing something aimless and pointless, I’m achieving the exact effect I desire. Doing nothing. 

To fill up space today I’m stealing a little something from www.hayleyghoover.blogspot.com , the hilarious HayleygHoover. 

I saw: My future prospects trickle away a little more as I ignore the important things in my life. 

I heard: The now ample selection of music I have from DFTBA records, and loved it

I felt: My hair, and it’s lovely because of the new aussie shampoo and five minute wonder I used in the shower this morning

I tasted: My first chippie in months, and I didn’t enjoy it at all. 

On another note, I got my funding application completed, so I should have my money on time this year, so that’s a win. 

August 2nd

technically…..

Well, it’s shortly after midnight, and I haven’t been to sleep yet, so in my mind it is still the 2nd of August. Still counts…. stop looking at me like that, it does. 

I had nothing interesting to say this afternoon, and I’m just home from an excellent night in Glasgow (my closest major city). I went to a variety/comedy/arts night at a little vegetarian cafe/bar called The 13th Note, and to be honest it was the best night out in a while. The simple reason for this is that it was a little something different. I am sick and tired of the four walls of my groups’ chosen local pub and unfortunately it seems to be one of the few places we gather socially as a group these days. 

The stand up performers were a definite highlight, a friend was doing stand up for the first time, and he did really well, however the others seemed to be mostly semi-professional, and have upcoming shows at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this month, so we got a nice little £2 preview. Not too shabby :).  

Another stand-out bit (as opposed to Stand-Up…. see what I did there…. yes, I’m not a comedian) was a guy who was rapping in a way I have never seen rap done before. He was like a Robin Williams/Jim Carey split personality to music. Wearing smart trousers and braces, the thickest lensed glasses I’ve ever seen and what can only be described as a squished fez. I’m sure it has a proper name, I don’t know what that name is. It was phenomenal…

As a writer, I always knew I’d be somewhat critical of my peers who were reading, but if I’m being really honest, a lot of it was studenty nonsense. A lot of poetry refering to some sort of revolution. Personally, I have absolutely no concept of what they may mean by this. These days, as a student in Scotland, we’re not actually that hard done by, our fees are paid; we are provided with a bit of money to live on; females, males, homosexual people, and people of all ethnicities are by and large all accepted and not oppressed in any way in the University culture. What do we have to revolt against? Except maybe our badly run Universities… but that’s a rant for a different day. However, I respect completely that they did it, it takes a lot of bravery to stand up and read what you’ve written to a judgemental (and in many cases… drunk) crowd, effectively putting a piece of your soul in the centre of a pit of dogs with questionable temperaments and hoping that they wont tear you apart. And I admire that even if I don’t agree with the sentiments shared by the poetry, it’s made me think. The fact that I even have an opinion, albeit opposing, puts it a step above most of the televised programming I’ve been watching recently, which renders me blank most of the time. 

It sounds cliché to say that I left inspired, but I genuinely did . There’s just something utterly refreshing about going to an event where people are sharing bits of their imagination for no other reason than for the love of it. 

Speak to you all tomorrow 

August 1st

The first day…. And I nearly forgot. Great start Paige. 

So, it’s Sunday August 1st, I am sitting half watching Back to the Future and half flicking through various websites I visit on an all too regular basis. I have plenty I could be doing, finishing my screenplay and catching up on things generally, but I’m not. 

Do you know why this is? Because I’ve had a rubbish day.  

It’s all too easy to moan away to you little blog, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Last summer I spent most of my time working, 6 days over 7 usually, about 10 hours a day. I didn’t particularly like my job, but it paid pretty well and I worked so much that I didn’t really have time to spend my money, and as a result, it accumulated quite nicely. This summer however, I have a different job. It pays… poorly, and these days I seem to be working an average of four hours over 2 days. Which basically means my wages are spent by Sunday evening. The difference is, I quite like this job, and it would be absolutely ideal if it gave me more hours. 

“Just get a new job!” I hear you all cry…. silently… In my mind…

Well, I would, except that I’m not qualified for much else other than hospitality, and there are roughly no jobs going in that area where I live at the moment, plus, it would mean giving up my current job, where the people are nice, to some unknown entity. Scary stuff. 

Also, I’ve been promised more hours for weeks now, and every time I consider applying for something else, my manager says he’ll be getting rid of the newest girl because she’s not very good and there isn’t money to pay her and asks me if I want the shifts. However these past few weeks this very same girl has been getting more hours than me. How is that morally even allowed? And how is someone supposed to survive and support herself on less than £20 a week? I would be earning more on the dole, if I was allowed to be on the dole, which I’m not, because I’m a student and apparently only entitled to money 9 months of the year. Absolute Poo. 

Moan over. Oh, except one thing, I burnt the roof of my mouth earlier eating a very tasty bruchetta. Bitter sweet or what?

It’s weird, I’ve been sitting facing a blank word document for days, unable to write, then all of a sudden, I’m faced with my lovely safe blog, which lets face it, only about two people read, and I’m a typing maniac, battering out 400 words without breaking a sweat. What is wrong with me?! I think it’s the fact that I have all these separate and disparate ideas floating around my head, all arguing with one another for priority, and I don’t really have much faith in any of them, they don’t seem to have a lot of mileage for me to run with and actually complete a story. Silly characters… failing me all of the time. 

Well this has been a strange and disjointed bloggy blog, but I feel better having vented my spleen, thank you :)

 

#BEDA

Blog Every Day In August

I think soooooo

John effing Green

Booked John Green Tickets for the Edinburgh international book festival today.

August 15th

Nerdfightergasm….

So excited!

Observations

I saw a couple in the park yesterday. If you were to put the volume of the couple on mute, they would look exactly like they were having a nice afternoon in the park. However, once you turn the volume back up, every five minutes one of their phones ring rather obnoxiously, and they answer it, then have a full blown converstation with the person on the phone while their partner is left to sit and listen. This is a scene unique to the present day culture. Forty/fifty years ago, they might actually have been able to enjoy each other’s company without interruption.

I’m not saying that I am entirely innocent of acknowledging my phone when I’m with my significant other at times when it is perhaps rude or innappropriate, I’m not. It just makes me sad that nowadays we are always distracted by our busy lives.

For example, this man answered his phone three seperate times to talk about “some wee fanny” who owes him money, and he couldn’t stop effing and blinding in every sentence. So much for a quiet day in the park.

Furthermore, I am in no position to judge these people because being the owner of a smartphone, I scarecly went ten minutes without checking sms, email, facebook, tumblr… etc.

It just makes me sad that we find it so impossible to relax, even for a few hours in the park in the sunshine, without having to know exactly what’s going on in the more hectic parts of our life.

Quotes

It is so hard to leave–until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.

— Paper Towns

I’d forgotten all about the previous quote until I just came across it purusing Tumblr. I read Paper Towns for the first time about a year ago, and at the time, I hate to say it, but I didn’t really like Margo. I thought she was selfish, and reckless. And that, for the most part is still true.

However, it is only recently I’ve learned to commend her bravery.

I’d like to read Paper Towns again, I feel that now I will have a much deeper understanding for Margo than I had before.

Which is basically the reason I love books so much. I read books that were way too old for me when I was a young teenager, and it is only on revisiting the books I loved then, that I can develop an even deeper appreciation for the characters once I have shared even a little of their experiences, and therefore, love them even more.

I haven’t found any other medium, television, music or film (which is ironic, given my degree course) that can adapt and change with you as you grow up as much as a book can. A good boook is so multi faceted and deep that a first reading is only scratching the surface of the true meaning, or indeed, as books belong to their readers, the true meaning for you.

Sometimes

Sometimes

It’s days like this I feel like I’m wasting my life. There are people my age who are heading business empires, raising amazing amounts of money for charity, starring in movies and writing novels. What am I doing? I am sitting for the umpteenth day since I moved, watching re-runs of Friends, Scrubs and The Simpsons. The thing is, I don’t even like The Simpsons or Scrubs very much. While constantly refreshing facebook, waiting for updates from people I barely even like. 

In my defense, I’ve been going through some things lately, and it honestly felt at times that the only sure way I would get through my day would be to just sit, and be, and do the familiar, while my world collapsed around me. However, I’m doing better now, I can go out and function, and do things, I’m just not. 

I suppose the reason for this is that every time I go out I seem to spend far too much money on rubbish to make up for the fact that I still don’t have 90% of my belongings. However, I am truly sick and tired of sitting in the house, endlessly flicking my way through facebook, tumblr and waiting 15 minutes for my terrible mobile broadband connection to buffer a YouTube video. 

I am also sick of excuses. I’m sick of thinking “I would do this, but….”. Especially since the main reason is, “I just can’t be bothered”. 

My list

1. I would go and get a new print out of my birth certificate, but I’m scared I’m not going to the right place

2. I would get my provisional driver’s license, but I don’t have a birth certificate. 

3. I would work on my novel, but my brain is muddled, and my stuff is on my own laptop

4. I would use my own laptop, but it’s at home, where the rest of my stuff is. 

5. I would go out and have adventures, but I can’t think of any

6. I would go on holiday, but I have no passport (see numbers one and two).

7. I would lose weight, but there’s things that are going to go bad in the fridge. 

I disgust myself. 

10.45 Adventures

I live in a small town. A town so small that at 10.45 on a Saturday night, there is scarcely anything open but pubs and the odd restaurant that hasn’t quite managed to shift its last patrons yet. This is not good when I have just vacated one such restaurant, (my place of work), and I feel like I’m about of to keel over from some sort of amalgamation of swine flu, man flu, the common cold and some new fangled illness that makes you very sweaty. Of course, by the time I get home, there’s no loo roll or tissues left, no provisions of any kind for a cold in the cupboards or fridge, and I used my last two Solpadol getting through the last 3 hours of work in some of the hottest temperatures of the year. I’m dying, or at least I feel like I am. So, at this purportedly ungodly hour (according to Lanark), reserved only for drinking and dining, I muster my last reserves of energy and scramble on to facebook, hoping one of my two hundred or so contacts will know where to find cold medicine. No such luck. 

Darroch and I set off, determined to find a solution. 

Luckily, it comes in the form of the shell garage, which, upon close inspection, sell both Nurofen, AND Benylin! Jackpot! But no tissues, loo roll, or disposable wiping utensil of any kind…. Desperate, and sniffley, I soldier on, and sink to the lowest, scabby reaches of my being. I had no choice. I’m not proud of it. But I’m eighteen, and absolutely did not want to look like the skanky 5 year old, whose equally skanky mother has not yet taught him to blow or wipe her nose, and whose cuffs are crispy from dried bogeys. 

I shall set the scene, there is a public toilet just near our flat. One of the scary electric sliding door kind, that in your worst nightmares, you imagine you are sitting mid wee wee, when all of a sudden, the doors say “hmmmmmmmmm” and slowly open up to reveal you in all your glory to the drippy alcoholic waiting outside, and you would then have to wiggle, trousers round your ankles, to re-press the close door button. 

However, despite its many flaws, and the fact I’d probably never utilise it for its intended use, it is quite well kept and therefore holds within it the holy grail… Toilet roll! It may be the consistency of newspaper, but toilet roll it is, and I rolled about 20 metres of this paper gold and shoved it in my shell poly bag of treasure, for the bargain price of 20p. 

Happy times :)

 

Pretty Things

There, spring lambs jam the sheepfold. In air
Stilled, silvered as water in a glass
Nothing is big or far.
The small shrew chitters from its wilderness
Of grassheads and is heard.
Each thumb-size bird
Flits nimble-winged in thickets, and of good colour.

Cloudrack and owl-hollowed willows…




- Sylvia Plath

Things that make me angry

I saw a blog post on tumblr, and had to put in my tuppence worth. You don't mess with books around me....

Original post

500daysofkissingmypillow:

Most Targeted Books

I am so disappointed with this.

My Sister’s Keeper and other books were judged unfairly. I mean they have a point, but this is completely biased.

Source

Back to me:

Eurgh, things like this just anger me, I have read 70% of these books, and I’d read 50% of them before I turned 16. How are these ever so vulnerable things we call teenagers supposed to learn anything about the world if we are banning books? I hate all of these warriors, protecting our innocence (apparently), when really all they’re doing is feeding our ignorance. I genuinely believe I learned vast amounts about our world from books, and I implore anybody who thinks differently to actually read these books. How is anybody supposed to learn anything if you wrap them up in blankets and only let them read stories about rainbows, puppies and cupcakes? (and nothing seriously bad happens to any of them!….. ever!). That doesn’t protect anybody! It bores them! There are falling literacy rates in Britain right now, maybe if there’s something relevant to be learned in a book, someone might actually stop and read it. 

The world, unfortunately, is out there and these books tackle real issues which sadly face hundreds of teenagers every single day. The Perks of Being a Wallflower deals with the psychological after effects of abuse, The Catcher in the Rye talks about depression and the everyday struggle all teenagers know of trying to meet the expectations of those around you, and what happens when you fail, and since it’s a really bloody good novel, it also in it’s tiny 277 pages (in certain copies) tackles the issue of bereavement. And god forbid any of them mention sex, because really, we hadn’t heard of that before picking up this book… and my goodness, we’re horrified, but we want to do it right now! (sarcasm…)

So if you’re one of those really lucky people who live in a world where nothing bad ever happens, then yes, good for you, and by all means, take these books off your shelves. However, everyone else in the world, maybe, just let them read, and god knows, they might actually learn something. 

relevant things...

"Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to realise you're strangers"
-Mary Tyler Moore

Having a Weird Name

As I said before, I am from Scotland, and over here my name, Paige is actually really unusual. 

When I was growing up, I absolutely hated my name, mostly because the perpetually uncultured souls of my home town, and their playground taunts of “oooh, Paige in a book”, “do you turn the page, Paige?”. I thought it was stupid. I also hated how it was only one syllable, it sounds like a noise, like something someone might say if they trip over, or to scare a cat away. Especially when my sister got the beautiful, after a Bronte sister, cultured, “Charlotte” (two syllables). Oh, and there is nothing funny abut the name Charlotte, except for the year in primary school when you read Charlotte’s Web… but that got old quite quickly. 

I know of a lot of people who opted for their middle name instead of their first, but to be honest, I’ve never really liked my middle name either, it’s Louise. No offence to anyone whose name is Louise, or the many, many people I’ve found since the popularity of Facebook who share my middle name. But I’ve never felt it suited me at all.

I suppose I may have faired better if the name was more popular, but surprisingly enough I never met anyone who shared my first name until I was 17 when I was volunteering at the school my mum works in, and was introduced to another Paige. 

Sometimes I wonder if my life would have been different if I was called something different, or more common, and the answer is probably yes, I would be a very different person, and standing up to the teasing has made me stronger. 

When I read John Green’s Looking for Alaska, I thought how wonderful it would have been to have been able to pick my own name, but then again, when I was Alaska’s age, I was fully immersed in the fantasy worlds of Enid Blyton, and would most likely have called myself Harriet or Amelia… which I am not sure are lesser evils. 

However, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve begun to appreciate my mother’s forward thinking. People don’t tend to forget my name, so being remembered when I started University wasn’t much of a problem, and with my name becoming more widely known, people often tell me it’s pretty. I am also thankful that I don’t have to share my name with 3 others in my class, having gone to two Catholic schools in my time, bible names such as David, Andrew and Paul were extremely popular and there were 2 of each in my first year class. So, “which Paige?” is thankfully, never a problem for me. 

Do things feel different?

Well... I am British, Scottish to be precise, which means that we have just found out that our country will now be lead by David Cameron of the Conservative party. I am a little bit worried by this fact, and how people like me will cope under the new policies. However I am more worried about my generation as a whole, who think that joining a facebook group is a legitimate contribution to your country's political system. I know people who deliberately spoiled their ballot paper, or even worse, chose not to vote at all yet think they should have a voice to complain once there is a result they don't find favourable. This flippant attitude to the country's political climate is what angers me most, not David Cameron's upper-middle class favouring policies. In addition to this, I fully believe that if everybody who had a chance to vote, (seeing as there was only 65.1% turnout with 29,653,638 votes cast - http://www.general-election-2010.co.uk/2010-general-election-results.html), had used their opportunity, then we may have seen a very different result. 

However, even those who didn't vote will insist on complaining on what a boo-hoo bad lot they've got now the the torys are in power. It is this self important attitude that the world should move around certain individuals that really makes me disappointed, not our new conservative leader. 

Which brings me to the question in the title.. will anything feel different now that conservative are in power?... I suppose we can only wait to find out. Although at present, it sort of feels like I'm little again, approaching an important birthday, and on the day, I wake up expecting to feel an extraordinary sense of change and grown-up-ness, and it's just not there.

I am now going to watch The Full Monty, which is showing on E4, which allegedly will enlighten me as to why a Tory government was really bloody awful in the 1980s. 

This is a dark little place

I almost feel like I take things out on you, you poor little blog.

My mother and I had an interesting chat tonight, and hopefully I will be able to write about those topics at another point. But mostly just now it is nearly two in the morning, and I'm just checking in with you my dear little blog, because it has occurred to me this evening that I stick to absolutely nothing, and I don't want you to feel forgotten about, or indeed be forgotten about (again), my little bloggy friend.

It's funny how things inspire you, I've been really unwell this week, some kind of viral infection that just attacked my body in so many ways, but I also had to get a shoot done this week, so I was cleaning up the space to shoot in and had a lovely BBC little film called The Gruffallo running for background noise. All of a sudden, I am awash with ideas, after about a 5 month dry spell save for one 3 page script. Funny, all it took was a twenty minute piece of magic... Even if you're not in need of a muse, I highly recommend that you watch it, it's a wonderful little animation.

I have my final essay of the year due on thursday, so I will definitely have more time for this soon. Also, how can I be half-way done with University? That seems impossible to me... but sadly, it's true.

Night x

Showtime fatigue

For the past two nights I have been involved in a review, Cabaret style show with an amateur theatre group at home, and I am T-I-R-E-D. I can only surmise that I am not as young and fit as I used to be, because I used to be able to do a week of these things and not be too fussed.
It's been weird this time, I've not been part of one of these shows in quite a while, but this time, my heart just hasn't been in it. I was having so much fun until a couple of weeks ago, when certain people involved just sucked all the fun out of it. I'm kind of glad that it's all over tonight and I can just forget about the whole ordeal. To let you understand, I am usually the shutterbug of the group, I take loads of pictures so that every little detail is captured, and I can't even bring myself to do that tonight, I don't want to remember it.

Procrastination station.

I should never run a country. I would literally never get anything done.
I am gifted at procrastination, it's one of my many skills... just I never usually get around to practising those skills, because I'm too busy concentrating on procrastinating.
I still have an 18 page script to do.... I have still only completed.... zero pages. It's actually gotten serious now, it is due along with a 1000 word evaluation in 23 hours. Needless to say, I'm pretty screwed.

I have just made myself the biggest cup of coffee in the world, in the hope it will cure my drowsiness,



Now... to write!

I went out for dinner last night...

Fail.

Dear reader, in avoiding the stereotypical, Hi! I'm Paige and I'm going to write a blog now post, I realise that I have neglected to tell you much about myself.

I'm 18, I'm from Scotland and I'm at University studying Film and Screen-writing, and am currently at the end of my second year. I love the subject, but hate the institution, and hopefully that can be rectified soon. Oh dear, what a little box, I'm putting myself in, but I suppose if anyone were to read this, they'd find out more in due course.

Today, I am tired, I had work, far too early yesterday for my liking then a full day's rehearsal for the show this weekend. Hopefully tired and groggy is a good way to feel to write a screenplay, because that is what I absolutely need to do today.

I think that the good angels of the internet are doing my a favour today, facebook wont work on my computer, so spending endless hours on that, commenting and playing a bit of school of wizardry and bejewelled are out. This can only be a good thing.

Last night proved two interesting things to my mind. 1. I hate confrontation, and will go to most lengths to avoid it. 2. I can do confrontation when I know it wont lead to an argument.

I suppose years of a guaranteed very very negative reaction to any form of confrontation has taught my little sub-conscious that saying what's bothering me, will no doubt lead to awful things, and that it's best to avoid it. Even now, typing and thinking about the situation brings an unbearable crushing feeling around my chest, and feel short of breath and shaky.

However, with situation number 2 of last night, I knew the outcome wouldn't be shouting and bawling, and asked the person what was going on, and they told me and apologised. That's why I love him.

It's a weird one.

Slim Fast Update and awesome friends.

I did ok yesterday,

Cheated a little bit, but being called into work early doesn't help me. I had no time to pack any cereal bars into my bag and I'd been working for 6 hours and had had nothing to eat since that minging shake. So... 2 slices of foccacia and a quarter of a muffin, those were sins. I did well otherwise, I usually graze a lot at work (a problem of working with food) so I'm altogether quite pleased with myself.

I have had a yogurt bar for breakfast, and have a strawberry milkshake cooling in the fridge for me later.

How banal... but writing about it helps me, I feel if I have to publish it in my blog, then I'll be disinclined to cheat, because it would mean lying to things other than myself and writing that slice of cake down provokes enough shame to make me not want to do it tomorrow. Makes sense? kaythanks.

In other news. My friend Claire is the best person ever, she just got back from New York (having been delayed for about 6 days due to the volcanic eruption) and has been promising me an amazing present since she got there. To let you understand, about 2 weeks before she left, I had looked up John Green's tour dates, and to my utter excitement, Claire would be in the city when he was. I told her immediately, and she was almost as excited as I was (which is testament to my love of John Green, because I wasn't even going to New York, I was just excited that she'd get to meet him). I few days later, she let me down gently, her itinerary for the trip was too overloaded, she wouldn't be going to see John. I have to confess... I was heartbroken. What person in their right mind wouldn't grab the chance to see John Green?! I even resented her a little... there! I said it!.

So she sends me updates of New York, it sounds amazing, I'm going as soon as I have money to. And promises of an even more awesome present than a signed copy of Will Grayson Will Grayson . Difficult to fathom, I know, but I was intrigued.

Last night I was doing the essential flipping through of Claire's trip buddy, Kat's pictures on facebook, and I come across one picture of Kat, holding a signed copy of David Levithan's, Nick and Norah's infinite playlist. Two emotions corssed my mind.... 1. "Ohwaitasecond... they went anyway?! boo claire.... just boo" and 2. "OMGEEE they WENT... and saw John and OMGEEE". I commented right away, and suddenly Claire IMs me.

"Kat wasted it!"

As it turns out, Claire went to great lengths to surprise me, ever since I told her about the signing, so as of Monday I will be the proud owner of a signed by John freaking Green copy of Will Grayson Will Grayson. How stoked am I?!

So yes.... this is why I have great friends. And also why I missed Claire terribly while she was in New York, she's amazing.

Why do women do this to themselves? And other stories...

Today was intended to be the start of a new me. A new, motivated, practical and determined me.

This started with the first trial of my new diet plan, (because apparently I've gotten so fat that my mother thinks I'm pregnant, go figure). I decided to go for the easy way out, a notarealdiet approach to start me off. Enter the slim-fast plan, a shake and snack bar oriented thing, where you replace meals with a shake or a snack bar and have one 600 calorie meal at dinner time. In the supermarket yesterday I perused the shelves for a good 5 minutes, trying to decide whether to go for individual bottles, the cheaper, powder option or cartons. In the end I went for the big tub of allegedly chocolate flavour powder. Last night was the last supper, a deliciously not sensible pie and boiled potatoes, with lashings of gravy. And oh god do I miss it already, when this morning I wake up, deliberating over the shake or snack bar - actual food options. Since I eat the snack bars as just snacks anyway, I gave the "chocolate shake" a go. 2 scoops into 250 ml of milk, stir well. Now with a their "chocolate flavour" advertising, one would expect said shake to taste of something resembling chocolate, not the case. At all. Let's just say that it is at least partly drinkable if I hold my nose, to keep at bay the cardboard after taste that accompanies it as it sloshes down your throat. I'm not hopeful that the strawberry one will be much better. Please forgive me if I sound like the pages you skip in any women's magazine, but if it's supposed to help me loose weight, and conform to the British health standards, then why doesn't it taste nice? I think I'm in for a depressing few months if this shake is going to be my primary food group.

Today I am supposed to be writing a screenplay. 18 pages in total and due for Wednesday at 11am, I have not started said screenplay and I have had around 6 weeks in which to do it. This is not a good thing. I have had a complete lack of inspiration, and I feel like I literally have no good ideas, which is problematic when the majority of my coursework for this year relies of creative output. Where are my muses?! Also, I feel I can write off at least a week and half a couple of weeks ago, which I barely remember and staggered through, zombie-like in a complete state of numbness. It was the strangest thing, feeling numb and upset in waves for 10 days for what felt like no reason at all. Thankfully, that seems to have ebbed away slightly, and I can somewhat function like a human being again, capable of conversation and interaction, which was beyond me a fortnight ago. Literally about all I was able to do was go through set tasks, 1. Go to work, ok done. 2. Survive the weekend at work with that tingly about to cry feeling in your nose, ok.... just about managed, with only the prospect of looking like a total loon in front of my new employer and colleagues keeping normality on the surface. 3. Being normal with boyfriend.... well, this one was a bit of an issue, but he broke me at about day 10 in to a bubbly mess, and partly I have him to thank for pulling me out of it. Boyfriend points... why yes.

What a miserable little person I sound like today. But then again, since I have a total of zero readers, then I suppose no one is going to mind much if I treat this like a dear diary and ramble on. Mostly this is a therapeutic exercise, to stretch those writing muscles and practise the actual act of getting words on a page so that I can get my assignment done. Will it work, I suppose we shall see.

In good news, I got my copy of Will Grayson, Will Grayson today, I ordered it about 2, maybe 3 weeks ago, and since it had to be shipped from the good old USA, I suspect the Icelandic volcanic ash problem delayed it getting to me somewhat. This book will be kept as a treat until I get my homework done, which will hopefully be another motivating factor.

You know how I was going to be all new and motivated today? Well it's 13.03pm, and I am still in my pyjamas... Maybe that motivation thing wont work out for today after all.

edit: I have one follower, hiya hello&goodbye, you followed me literally as I was proclaiming I have no readers. :)

Sunshine and feeling good.

It's amazing how a little bit of good weather can suddenly make you feel better. After a few weeks of feeling stuck and altogether lost, this little spurt of sunshine and brightness just suddenly makes everything a little more bearable, and your heart lifts a little because everyone around you is suddenly in a better mood too.

Currently I am sitting out in my garden with my, once cold, but now rather warm and sickly juice sitting my my side, my lips still tingling from the veggie delight subway with chipotle southwest sauce I've just polished off and I'm squinting at the barely readable screen because the sun's so bright and all I can see is my own reflection staring back at me.

...Or rather not

Perhaps nights up late writing, or rather not writing, have taken their toll, because in all honesty, I completely forgot about this blog. I am maybe getting senile before my time, but I just forgot, until I was reading another blog, went to follow it and realised, mygoodnessandwaitasecond... IHAVEONE OFTHOSE.... woops.