As a kid I always thought the very essence of a friendship was the secrets you shared, about who you had crushes on, the lipstick you stole from your mum's makeup bag or the prank you played on your sister. More than these shared secrets were the secret handshakes and secret languages. To put in the time and effort to create a long-winded, detailed and difficult handshake complete with slaps, hip bumps, dance moves and twirls or to create a completely new alphabet or code, well, to me that exemplifies a true friendship. You aren't going to go through the silly, semi-embarrassing creation process if you know that person is anyone but your best friend.
I made my fair share of handshakes when I was younger (*cough* earlier this year with my sister *cough*) but the secret language/code never really caught on. I learnt pig Latin and attempted Gobble-de-gook (but I could never get my head around it) but that wasn't secret enough, everyone knew them, even our parents. My sister and I attempted a couple of personal languages, I think we must have wanted to spice up our doll/teddy fantasy worlds, but the only one that every stuck was one where we began each word with an N. So, Hi my name is Kayleigh became Ni, nmy name nis Nayleigh. It was terrible and it didn't take long for us to recognise that, but every now and then I'll walk up to my sister and poke her in the side and say "Narn!! Now Nar Nu Nuing? Nisters!" and we'll shoot shifty looks around us, and seeing that the coast is clear we'll do our energetic and complex handshake and fall over laughing.
I've had a renewed interest in secret languages lately, whether it is simply using morse code to tap out messages to one another like Oskar and Eli in Let the Right One In or flashlights like Kristy and Maryanne in The Babysitters Club or a full blown new creation like Tolkien's Elvish language, they fascinate me, perhaps because of the significance to my childhood. I think that at 23 I'm past the age of creating a language with a good friend, but I'd love to create something for my children, some little inside joke for us to all share, a tradition to pass on. As much as I love my family we never seemed to have any special activities or secrets that were just ours, and I regretted that. It's something that I've always known I wanted to do with my family, nothing intense or over the top, even a personalised greeting that was just ours would be enough.
I've got a few years to go before I really have to start thinking of that though, but until then I love thinking of these things and banking them away for those special future years I have ahead of me.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Stressed like a pair of 80s jeans
Last assignment due tomorrow, then two exams and I'm finished!! Until then (the 12th of November- which in the future will be fondly referred to as the day the madness ended) I'll probably be contemplating suicide several times a day, so anyone reading this please send out some happy thoughts for me in this time of academic stress.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
I heart Harry Potter
When I was 11 I fell madly in love with the Harry Potter series, and soon after Harry Potter fever began to descend on the world. Young and naive as I was I truly believed I had discovered this fantastic series with a couple of my friends and the popularity was due to the three of us telling everyone that They Had To Read This Series RIGHT NOW! Just before the new book came out I'd re-read the books already released and would hyperventilate while I waited in line at the bookstore to claim my copy. My family would buy one copy that would have to be passed between myself and my two sisters and my mum, as the first and most obsessed I would always claim dibs, but for several months after its release that copy would grow older and more tattered as we each read and re-read it.
When I finished the seventh book I was so depressed and not just because of that horrible 21 years later final chapter. I had grown up with that series, just as I had grown more complex and angsty so had my beloved magical world and all its inhabitants. I had cried over their losses, laughed and cried out when they were victorious, obsessively flipped over the pages at 4am because I Just Could Not Put It Down. There was a void in my life after the series concluded and I'm still as yet to find something to fill it.
I've never been the film series number one supporter, I they've done more wrong than they've done right, but my adoration for the novels has meant that regardless of that I rush to the cinema as soon as the movie comes out and sit there gazing up at the screen, falling back into the magical world I love so much.
After watching the trailers that have been released for part one of HP and the Deathly Hollows I think that this may be the one to succeed where the others have failed me. I was on the edge of my seat, or I would of if I wasn't sitting on my bed, hands to face the whole 2 minutes and 27 seconds. It is dark and moody, action packed and it doesn't seem like there are any major additions to the plot (like the burning down of the Weasley home in the last film- what the heck was with that?), so my fingers and toes are crossed extra tightly, hoping against hope!
I wasn't sure I wanted this book to be split into two films but now that it looks like they've done it right I'm glad they did. It extends the series just the little bit longer for me, it keeps that love that was ignited with the book burning just a tad longer. And who knows, perhaps they'll make a graphic novel edition next, or maybe a TV show, extend the series out for me just a little longer--either way I'll be happy because I love nothing more than Harry Potter, and never will.
When I finished the seventh book I was so depressed and not just because of that horrible 21 years later final chapter. I had grown up with that series, just as I had grown more complex and angsty so had my beloved magical world and all its inhabitants. I had cried over their losses, laughed and cried out when they were victorious, obsessively flipped over the pages at 4am because I Just Could Not Put It Down. There was a void in my life after the series concluded and I'm still as yet to find something to fill it.
I've never been the film series number one supporter, I they've done more wrong than they've done right, but my adoration for the novels has meant that regardless of that I rush to the cinema as soon as the movie comes out and sit there gazing up at the screen, falling back into the magical world I love so much.
After watching the trailers that have been released for part one of HP and the Deathly Hollows I think that this may be the one to succeed where the others have failed me. I was on the edge of my seat, or I would of if I wasn't sitting on my bed, hands to face the whole 2 minutes and 27 seconds. It is dark and moody, action packed and it doesn't seem like there are any major additions to the plot (like the burning down of the Weasley home in the last film- what the heck was with that?), so my fingers and toes are crossed extra tightly, hoping against hope!
I wasn't sure I wanted this book to be split into two films but now that it looks like they've done it right I'm glad they did. It extends the series just the little bit longer for me, it keeps that love that was ignited with the book burning just a tad longer. And who knows, perhaps they'll make a graphic novel edition next, or maybe a TV show, extend the series out for me just a little longer--either way I'll be happy because I love nothing more than Harry Potter, and never will.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Countdown
It is my birthday in three days and I have no idea what I'm getting from my family and friends, although I think I can say with complete confidence that I will not receive any books. For some reason I very rarely unwrap a gift and find a book within the wrappings, even though this is the obvious choice for anyone shopping for me, and I think i've narrowed it down to three reasons.
1. I am a book slut, i'm not ashamed to admit it. I will read absolutely anything set down in front of me. Well, I will start any book set down in front of me, but I can't guarantee i'll finish it (for the record the only books i've ever started and not finished are Atonement- Ian McEwan, The Eastern Slope Chronicle-Ouyang Yu and Crime and Punishment-Fyodor Dostoyevsky-although that was because I picked it up in a library while I was passing time...I will read it in full one day). So my bookcase is filled with the most random collection of texts around, from classic to beat to jazz era to sci-fi to graphic novel to crime to biography to Harry Potter (yes it deserves its own genre) to gothic horror to slasher horror to romance (but not the mills and boons type) to Australian history to recollections told through a drug haze. Anyone who comes to my house can find a book they'd be interested in, at least everyone has so far and i'd be suprised if that changes in the near future, but I digress. Reason number one is because of my varied taste and my continual purchasing of books and the fact that my room is one large bookcase no one is quite sure what I actually have, and so they don't buy anything for fear that it is already sitting on my bookshelf.
2. Linked to number one, the second reason no one buys me books is because I make it hard for them. I like so many genres and styles and eras of writing that when someone asks me 'What do you like to read' or 'what book would you like for a present' I stare at them blankly ummming and ahhhing, shifting from one foot to another before finally brushing off the question with a shrug and a mumbled 'I dunno'. I don't make it easy for them and no one likes to give a gift voucher (although I am a huge fan of receiving them) because it seems too easy and no one wants to openly admit how much they spend on someone else's present (does anyone else always put more on a voucher than they would spend if they were actually buying something- or is that just me?) or that they don't know the person well enough to know exactly what book (or cd or dvd or hat or shoes) the birthday girl/boy is dying to own. Or perhaps they think that I'm making the whole thing up and really I hate reading and that is why I can't name what kind of books I like...
3. I don't get presents from a lot of people nor do I give presents to a lot of people, but when I do they're pretty special. I put alot of thought into picking out the perfect gift for someone, and then I go to a great deal of effort to wrap it in a way that proves I care for that person as well as know the colour combinations that best exemplify their personality. My friends and families think the same, they aren't going to run into Angus and Robertsons and buy something from the best sellers list just because my birthday is around the corner, they're going to hunt down a beautiful leather bound copy of Dickens, or find some underground graphic novel that fits my personality to a tee. Books are an extension of my self, and luckily my family and good friends know that. I think i'd actually be pretty devestated if I unwrapped a present and found a Matthew Reilley novel on my lap and a card attached saying Love Mum. So if they can't find that unique purchase they'll hold out and buy something else instead, rather than disappoint me with something standard.
Whatever the reason I don't really care, I love buying myself books, whether it is online or hunting through dusty secondhand stores so perhaps that is another reason I so rarely receive them, who knows.
I'm not sure how this long blog entry came about, I'd intended to simply attach this youtube clip of Kerouac reading from On The Road and mention how much I love the Beat writers and how I detest that this novel is being turned into a film (and a film with Kristen Stewart no less!! Is there no sense of decency left in the world?) but I guess I'll save that discussion for another day and another blog. But i'll leave the clip here because it is wonderful to listen to Kerouac read, and maybe it'll inspire any friends and families who visit my blog in finding a last minute present!
1. I am a book slut, i'm not ashamed to admit it. I will read absolutely anything set down in front of me. Well, I will start any book set down in front of me, but I can't guarantee i'll finish it (for the record the only books i've ever started and not finished are Atonement- Ian McEwan, The Eastern Slope Chronicle-Ouyang Yu and Crime and Punishment-Fyodor Dostoyevsky-although that was because I picked it up in a library while I was passing time...I will read it in full one day). So my bookcase is filled with the most random collection of texts around, from classic to beat to jazz era to sci-fi to graphic novel to crime to biography to Harry Potter (yes it deserves its own genre) to gothic horror to slasher horror to romance (but not the mills and boons type) to Australian history to recollections told through a drug haze. Anyone who comes to my house can find a book they'd be interested in, at least everyone has so far and i'd be suprised if that changes in the near future, but I digress. Reason number one is because of my varied taste and my continual purchasing of books and the fact that my room is one large bookcase no one is quite sure what I actually have, and so they don't buy anything for fear that it is already sitting on my bookshelf.
2. Linked to number one, the second reason no one buys me books is because I make it hard for them. I like so many genres and styles and eras of writing that when someone asks me 'What do you like to read' or 'what book would you like for a present' I stare at them blankly ummming and ahhhing, shifting from one foot to another before finally brushing off the question with a shrug and a mumbled 'I dunno'. I don't make it easy for them and no one likes to give a gift voucher (although I am a huge fan of receiving them) because it seems too easy and no one wants to openly admit how much they spend on someone else's present (does anyone else always put more on a voucher than they would spend if they were actually buying something- or is that just me?) or that they don't know the person well enough to know exactly what book (or cd or dvd or hat or shoes) the birthday girl/boy is dying to own. Or perhaps they think that I'm making the whole thing up and really I hate reading and that is why I can't name what kind of books I like...
3. I don't get presents from a lot of people nor do I give presents to a lot of people, but when I do they're pretty special. I put alot of thought into picking out the perfect gift for someone, and then I go to a great deal of effort to wrap it in a way that proves I care for that person as well as know the colour combinations that best exemplify their personality. My friends and families think the same, they aren't going to run into Angus and Robertsons and buy something from the best sellers list just because my birthday is around the corner, they're going to hunt down a beautiful leather bound copy of Dickens, or find some underground graphic novel that fits my personality to a tee. Books are an extension of my self, and luckily my family and good friends know that. I think i'd actually be pretty devestated if I unwrapped a present and found a Matthew Reilley novel on my lap and a card attached saying Love Mum. So if they can't find that unique purchase they'll hold out and buy something else instead, rather than disappoint me with something standard.
Whatever the reason I don't really care, I love buying myself books, whether it is online or hunting through dusty secondhand stores so perhaps that is another reason I so rarely receive them, who knows.
I'm not sure how this long blog entry came about, I'd intended to simply attach this youtube clip of Kerouac reading from On The Road and mention how much I love the Beat writers and how I detest that this novel is being turned into a film (and a film with Kristen Stewart no less!! Is there no sense of decency left in the world?) but I guess I'll save that discussion for another day and another blog. But i'll leave the clip here because it is wonderful to listen to Kerouac read, and maybe it'll inspire any friends and families who visit my blog in finding a last minute present!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Just because it's in your head doesn't mean it isn't real
Nothing relieves stress better than forceably shoving a character's head into a toilet and then pistol whipping them until they tell you what you want.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
