il pleut.

Sometimes i take the long way home after school and walk down my favourite street in the whole world, jersey road. Some of my most favourite houses are on that street, and i love walking past them, humming alone to my jazz tunes and imagining what it would be like to live in them.;

I feel very andy (pretty in pink), as in 'the saddest thing is that i bet the people that live there don't think they're half as beautiful as i do.' I'm fairly sure its true though, i think they're gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, exquisite things, all creeping ivy, lavender rimmed balconies, beautiful sandstone walls towering into attics, one even has a tower that extends above the house... I bet that the people that live there don't appreciate the houses as much as i do, every fortnight as i walk past them on my (long way home).

I can't wait till im older and will be in a proper house my myself and i'm going to make it so me. i'm going to wallpaper one of the walls in old magazine cutouts, another in photos, i'm going to have crazy art that mixes charles blackman and impressionists, i'm going to have creeping wisteria and lace curtains and pots of tea always brewing and soft squishy armchairs that swallow you when you sit down.

I can't wait for the future!

...

and now its raining! could this day get any better!

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let them eat cake.

i must write about one of my favourite movies. ever. it got caned by the critics, didn't do very well in the box office, the french loved it, the americans hated it... It's the movie that me and lola can quote word for word and will watch a hundred times over without getting bored. Marie Antoinette.

I am a huge history buff. that is known throughout my family and friends. And i am living proof that a movie doesn't have to be a hundred percent historically accurate for it to therefore be enjoyable and to be enjoyed by people who love history. i know that the story isn't correct, i've read the antonia fraser biography (and one by caroline weber).. i know what's going on. But i still enjoyed this story, sympathetically told from the point of the view of the doomed queen.

The costumes! Oh the costumes! They deserved an Oscar, they should have won 20. There were apparently over 80 costume changes for Kirsten Dunst (marie antoinette) and it makes for some frippery frothy finery goodness. There's satin, silk, taffeta, egyptian cotton, shiny shimmery chiffon and deep velvet, lining of ermine, embellishments of ribbons, feathers, little birds, beads, diamonds galore and the shoes.

They were, quite simply, another character in the film. THere was colour and vibrancy and everything that you expected from the 'queen of fashion' as caroline weber called her. the costumes made this movie.

It made me want to find some costume jewellery (paste of course) and swan around in swathes of satin, or in a long white gown like she did in the petits trianon. i actually have a long white dress in the regency style that one day i would like to dress up with my fake diamonds and feathers in my hair.

I also thought the music was excellenet as well, a mish mash mixture of period vivaldi and harpsichord with new order, siouxie and the banshees, adam and the ants etc etc that showed that these people were, after all, just teenagers having fun for most of their lives. Reports told that marie antoinette was not a bright girl, though she tried very hard. what would you do, with incredible riches on your hands? I would throw a party, or two. shows that me and marie are more similar that i thought, right?

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out my window

since i moved my tiny broom closet of a room around the other day my desk sits right under the window, and i love it. I can see onto the street (the street can see me) and as i work (or while away the hours on the internet) i can muse about their stories. i love doing that, i love thinking about where they're rushing to, or why they're wearing that specific jacket... call me crazy (or just with an over active imagination)

today its a very white sky. the leaves have all fallen off the trees in autumn. It's a tiny little bit chilly, the left over rain from yesterday dampens the road.

A woman clutching two big battered suitcases just walked past, her head held high and her heels clicking on the pavement. I thought, how sophisticated she looks. perhaps she is a professional wandered like holly golightly (though perhaps not in that sense) or someone without a home, drifting from place to place. She seemed to be carrying everything she owned in those two suitcases, a scarf tied around her neck in a jauntily manner.

THen there were two boys, one about 17, the other 6, holding baguetttes and laaughing. I thought, brothers? They were so cute together, joking with each other, pushing each other a little, play fighting with their baguettes. Only in paddington.

Just then a car drove past with its roof down playing 'freedom' by george michael. The driver looked young, perhaps she has jut moved out of her house? Perhaps she has left a bad boyfriend? Perhaps it was simply the song on the radio. Whatever it is, i thought how life seemed to shine out of her auburn hair.

One day maybe that'll be me walking on the road and people peering out their window making up stories, but not now. i have none to tell, not just yet anyway.

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right out of the park

last night i was so out of my league. i dont want this blog to turn into a 'look how cool my life is', because (a) its not, and (b) i think they're pretentious and stupid. but i just have to get a few sentences out because my parents don't understand. last night me and my friends went to an 18th of the best friend of a friend of ours. we had never met him before, but my parents registered something at the last name.

Mater and Pater; 'Penfolds-Russel? as in the big wine family?'

Me; Uuuuuh. *has no idea*. i suppose.

Mater and Pater; oh. the mother's called Rebel, she used to be a big feature on the scene, now she produces music.

Me; Right. *beginning to get a little worried.*

We arrive at the party and it is in the biggest house i have ever seen in my entire life. It was completely open bar complete with veuve cliquot champagne and beer brewed especially for Emres (the bday boy) with his name and face on the label. The whitlams played live (OH MY GOD!) and there were photographers from vogue there taking photos.

i just can't believe we were there. we were so out of our league. we had a great night, i had so much fun dancing and laughing with my friends... i know things like these will happen to you every now and then, but i couldn't help not believing exactly how and why we were there. it was absolutely surreal.

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love

last night was perfect. i went out with my 3 girls to dinner, cocktails and then the sex and the city movie. there's nothing much i can say except that it was harmless, harmless sugary fun and i would do it again in an instant. the funniest thing is that the three girls that i went with are my closest, but then not my closest friends. a year ago we were inseparable, and now i have drifted apart from them but they have stayed really close.

it was odd being with them, and reminded me how it used to be. sometimes i miss the closeness we have, and i was a little saddened by how close they still are. I would not trade what i have for the world, which is almost like the best of both worlds, still good friends with them, best friends with another darling group of girls, and my ultimate love lola who is separate from all of this.

But sometimes i just get pangs of memory of how it used to be, how uncomplicated it all used to be. growing up is terrible. i wish i could just be a kid forever.

last night was perfect. so perfect that it makes me a little sad at what i've been missing out on.

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