I'm Kristen and I'm living in Crawley, Sussex (hoping to return to my beloved Brighton 'n' Hove when my ME/CFS allows). I drink a lot of tea, ride a lot of buses, go in a lot of charity shops, draw, sew and knit (and attempt to crochet), take a lot of photos, spend a lot of time sleeping, read a lot of history books and follow Jesus Christ. <3
Email: busstopgirl (at) googlemail (dot) com
Video for When You Come Back Down by Nickel Creek, c/o YouTube
"You got to leave me now, you got to go alone
You got to chase a dream, one that's all your own
Before it slips away
When you're flyin' high, take my heart along
I'll be the harmony to every lonely song
That you learn to play
When you're soarin' through the air
I'll be your solid ground
Take every chance you dare
I'll still be there
When you come back down
When you come back down..."
Just bought the first Nickel Creek (bluegrass wunderkinder) album, and so far haven't broken it in because I can't resist sticking When You Come Back Down on repeat for an hour at a time. It's gorgeous - the lyrics, the vocals, the mandolin, the violin...
It's a love song, but not necessarily of romantic love. It speaks about the supportive, unconditional love of good friendship or parenting. Certainly it makes me think of my parents - I'm well aware that not everyone has the good relationship with their parents that I have with mine, and I'm so thankful I've been blessed with them. They've always been 100% supportive of me in whatever I wanted to do, wherever I wanted to go.
Not that I've deliberately rebelled against them at any point - but I realise now that they could have made things very hard for me when I wanted to go to art college and my teachers were angling for me to head off to Oxford to do something safe and academic. Mum & Dad would have been very proud if I'd chosen to do that, but they'd been sticking my drawings to the fridge door since I could hold a crayon, and knew where my heart was.
They didn't impose their ambitions on me, they encouraged me to do what I yearned to do - support that Mum certainly didn't get from her family when she was leaving school and had aspirations of her own. You're good people, Mr & Mrs B.
Why did no-one tell me there was a movie starring a 60ft ice-cream cone?!
If you're one of the crowd who've been instructed to buy me a 5ft high fibreglass ice-cream cone for my 30th birthday: sorry folks, the stakes have been raised...
A fairly successful charity shop trawl on Saturday left me with a couple of new tops, a slinky sweater, a tiny cuddly Snowman for me mam and a copy of 10 Things I Hate About You - the latest addition to my 'good US high school rom-coms' collection.
But there has been an unfortunate side effect: I'm having impure thoughts about Heath Ledger. I blame the usual post-period friskiness. Still, it's good to know I'm not completely incapable of some good old-fashioned shallow lust. Come to Mamma... grrrrrrrrrr.... ;)
I have plans! I have good things to look forward to! A week in Galway in October (sure, it'll p...ersist down all week, but it'll still be good craic) which ends a family wedding & bevvied-up ceilidh in a 5-star hotel on a beautiful country estate. Then it's Atomic Kitten in November, Eddie Izzard in December and Liberty X in March!
Zina Akram Hamoodi, 12
'...Two weeks before the missile attack on her grandparents' house, Zina called her uncle Sudad in Manchester to say that she had got another top mark in an exam. But rather than ask him to send her money, she requested that he put a flower on her grave if she died. On May 2, Sudad was in Basra to prepare for the burial of Zina and his nine other relatives who died in the bombing. "I'm struggling to find a flower to buy anywhere in Basra," he said. "If I have to I'll get one from Kuwait or the British embassy. I'll make sure she gets her wishes."...'
Am highly tickled by this quote from the blog of Plums' associate, Mordant:
'There should be an emergency line where you could phone for an irate Zen Master to come round and bonk heads with a stick. Dammit, there should be some kind of Zen Fairy, some little sprite that appears whenever a nincompoop comes out with that "well, reality is, like, a mental construct, yeah? So we all create our own reality, you see? There is no spoon-- no, no, listen-- there is no spoon!" bilge, and whacks them repeatedly over the head with a really really big whacking stick. "Deconstruct this! BONK ON HEAD!"
'See, as long as stick go BONK against skull, one needs science. As long as we are confined within the cloven pine of cause and effect, we shall need to understand the nature of the physical universe. Just trotting out stuff about how we shape the world with our minds and blah-de-blah-de-blah doesn't make the world disappear in a puff of special effects.
'Don't tell me we can escape our linear 2-and-a-half-D world when you don't even know what that means. You haven't escaped. You haven't even sorted out conjugal visits and a place on the prison's adult literacy programme. You haven't done squat except read the Illuminatus books, take very weak acid and then talk everyone's ear off. You are boring and repetative and need BONK on HEAD.'
My blog has ads at the top of the page, as you can see. I find them a constant source of amusement - as I do the ads on my friends' blogs. The ads must operate on picking up on keywords in your posts - my ads are usually for sparkly things or Christian dating sites (poor Plums usually has ads for insomnia remedies on hers). This morning, however, I was disconcerted to find: 'Need to arrest a ship? Let us find it for you. www.ShipHunter.com'. My incredulity got the better of me:
'This web site was created to assist creditors in locating cargo ships that have unpaid invoices. Using advanced search algorithms, our computers will search over 450 port arrival and line-up lists throughout the world. If we find the ship you are looking for, we will notify you immediately. We will continue to search for up to 12 months, or until the ship appears in one of the ports reporting.'
I am moving house tomorrow for the second time in five months, and the fourth time in four years. Auntie Pea writes to protest, 'Can you please STOP living like a gypsy?? My address book entry 'K' is a terrible mess!'...