bizarre urges an ordinary Wednesday

A cigarette and an Australian man. I ask no more.

the materialistic part of my existence

4 cardigans
2 shirts
4 pairs of trousers
5 short-sleeved tops
1 crocheted shawl
1 suede jacket
2 winter coats
4 skirts
1 dress
1 belt
books, table cloths, candles, shampoos, miscellaneous

I used to buy on average 3 pieces of clothing a year. The above is the sum of the last three months only - the time I've been working in the Little Shop of Harmony, with its second-hand store in the basement. The total sum of the above is only half of what I paid for my last pair of new jeans.

Now I buy stuff for a fraction of what it's worth, save the world's resources and support charity work, all while delighting in new (for me at least) clothes. Go fleamarkets!

blasphemer's scribble

Wrote down my blasphemous thoughts and then deleted them all. Not because I was afraid to express them but -

I will not publish this entry.

mad Yorkshire

Losing myself in a book, The Thirteenth Tale (Diane Setterfield). Finally, a book that takes you with it. And I realise I really should go to Yorkshire sometime, in real life. Seems to be all Bronte-land (not that I ever really liked the Brontes), windswept moors and brooding skies, frowning men and apron-clad housekeepers. People and manors equally gothic and at least one aristocratic family is haunted by madness. Perhaps Yorkshire doesn't exist outside of literature? I must find out.

When I'm not reading, I'm wondering where my life is headed. Are there more adventures or is the rest all disappointment?

post-it note for February

To stand up and be weird.
To dive, out of curiosity and boldness, into the depths that others shun on principle.
To let a yes be yes and a no be no.
To lift my eyes to the sky and laugh.
To throw, violently, off my shoulders all worries for what others may or may not think.
To love the icy winter rain.

To be me.