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pretentiousurl
I haven't written ANYTHING in 2 years. f*** me. Well, I did have a baby, work a couple of jobs and move house. But still. 2 years.
I'm reading my first (!!) Thomas Pynchon novel, Vineland. Finally reading again after a year with the little one.
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I haven't written a sad little word in about 4 months. How neglectful of me... I blame my law class and work, keeping me perpetually busy in a very dull way. And my lovely other concern is keeping me busy ... which is still under wraps ...

I have long finished with Allen Bennett and have moved to a mild affection for Bill Bryson. His Notes from a Small Island is rather funny. Although sometimes his writing seems too close to the baby boomer guy from Iowa that he is. I don't think I fancy any more anecdotes on "how come when women go shopping they ..." However, overall he is very amusing in his perception of things British. And his funny stories are quite reassuring in a 'Thank god I'm not the only one who thinks that, and I'm not going nuts here in England' kind of way..

Gosh, the weather today is perfect today. It's hot and sunny and it surely can't last, but hurray!

Going now to break out BBQ ..
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London
Today

I promised myself that I would refrain from doing a google search on Alan Benentt until after I'd written my post. I didn't want to tamper with my perception of his book. I didn't know if he was still alive. Or maybe his career hit the skids and he was living in a shoddy old age home back in Leeds. Or still mucking about NW1, a bit more like the bag lady Miss Sheppard these days. (The lady who lived in a camper van parked in his front garden.)

Well, no. Not exactly. It turns out that he wrote a play called The History Boys. And it's a movie too. All very popular and critic praised. I must say I'm pleasantly surprised. I think I will stand by my earlier assumption that I might not like his plays as much as I've enjoyed his book. I should put this theory to test and go see the play ... maybe. The movie looked a bit too much like the Carpe Diem movie with Robin Williams -- all the rich private school boys coping with the depression of future lives of privilege.

Mr Bennett observes Americans. See below.
1980
10 July, New York
"Why American is a foreign language: We lunch in a cafe near Gramercy Park, sitting out in a heavy, overcast day. I order a screwdriver and drink it quickly and ask for another.
'I guess it's kind of hot, ' the waiter says.
'Yes,' says Lynn, 'and the glasses are kind of small.'
'Yes,' says the waiter. 'That's true also.'
No Englishman would say 'That's true also' (although it's a perfectly grammatical sentence), because it's written not spoken English. Only Ivy Compton-Burnett would write it as dialogue. "


Ok must google Ivy Compton-Burnett and that Robin Williams movie.
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Brighton
December 2006

I quit my job just a week ago and have time to join my husband at a Flash conference in Brighton. Our hotel faces the beach and the rain is coming sideways at you down the street. People who have sea facing rooms say the wind banging makes it too loud to sleep. I have to hold my hat onto my head, which considering it's a toque is sort of astounding.
Rain has stopped, winds slowed down. Go walk around Brighton and go into Oxfam bookstore on Groovy Little Brighton Street. I pick up Alan Bennett's biography (memoir?), 'Writing Home'. The dust jacket talks about a woman living in his garden for many years in a camper van. Just my side of scruffy.

February 2007
London.
Today.

Bennett turns out to be a writer and playwright. He had published his diary in the London Review of Books from 1980-1990. His entries were marked as I've made mine today.

I don't know how to explain why I am enjoying his book so much. I don't know if I'd like his plays or television programs nearly as much.


An entry into his journal.
1987
12 January Cairo [he's visiting for a film shoot and doing sight seeing.]

"To Gizeh, where in hot sunshine, we ride camels and horses around the Pyramids. Not expecting much, I am not put off by the litter and trash, and even the dead dog my camel steps round does not seem out of place. The Sphinx, like a personality seen on TV then met in the flesh is smaller than one had imagined, and it's quite hard to tell how tall the Pyramids themselves are. In the distance stand the towers and skyscrapers of Cairo, in the misty morning sunshine a sight every bit as remarkable as the Pyramids. Odd that one marvels at stone piled up in one shape but not in another, both of much the same height. Were our world largely wiped out, would tourists flock to Croydon as they do to Cairo?"
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My first post, or << "Hello World! ";

I have started to write for anonymous consumption; woo hoo for something. I have changed.

The idea of blogging didn't appeal to me years ago when some of my friends started to post online. Maybe I didn't have much to say, or maybe the idea of saying something for the consumption of strangers seemed a bit exhibitionist. A bit, 'Look at me, I'm hella [smirk] interesting, and I probably have a piercing or tattoo, but don't look at me too long or I'll kick your ass." It also felt a bit weird to read a friends blog, especially when you saw them almost every day, like maybe I'd heard the story already. But like I've said, I've changed.

Who knows. Maybe this will be a mirror. Maybe I want to be involved more and judge less. Probably a good objective.

Things to warn about.

1)I can't spell.
2)I am addicted to crap gossip websites and may discuss.
3)I live in London and may gripe about it on occasion.
4)I may be horribly boring (I hope that is yet to be decided.) But I promise never to use the adjectives 'hella' or 'rad' unless I'm being ironic.
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