I am a non-title

If you do not find yourself overcome with the urge to click your fingers to this song, you are dead to me.



Also, please note the line 'now we go steady to the pictures, I always get chocolate stains on my pants'. This is funny if you're English...or if you're me. I don't know.

I heart my mum

Mum (looking up from her Sudoku at random and frowning): 'What I don't like about squirrels is the way they cross the road.'
Me: 'What?!'
Mum: 'Wellllllllllll...they don't do it properly.'

It's a lonely planet joy

Last night at work after everyone was in bed, I went outside for a late-night cigarette. I sat there peacefully, listening to Hindermith and looking up at a sky full of twinkly stars and dark corners, when a shooting star (sorry Toby, meteor, hehe!) waved at me and swept itself from one edge of the sky to the other. It was massive and decorated with fire. I was open-mouthed at this point and then I saw another one that actually seemed to weave its way through the stars! And no, it wasn't a plane. T'was definitely a starry-type thing. Yes. It's nice when the sky speaks to you.

Over the last two weeks I have been to some little dinner parties, attented my parents' 40th wedding anniversary garden party and (abominable) pub dinner - '...can I just take this moment to draw your attention to my Father's face?', almost had measles, giggled, felt like I'm shit at my job, felt like I'm good at my job, not saved any money like I promised myself I would (again), watched Evil Dead (okay, I'm really getting into this horror malarkey now: I thoroughly enjoyed the film AND now have the incredible urge to paint my face like Linda (post-possession) every time I put my make-up on, listened to some fantabulous moo-sic, and so on and so forth and whatnot, etc. etc., ad infinitum.

What a stunner!

One day I might dedicate an entire blog post to everything that's wrong with Twilight. But I'm not sure I could find the time. 

'...while we're at it, I'm sick of religious people forcing their children to define themselves by their parents' faith. A four year old is no more a Christian than he is a member of the Postal Worker's Union!' - Marcus Brigstock

' "I'm going to tell you a story," said Zedka. "A powerful wizard, who wanted to destroy an entire kingdom, placed a magic potion in the well from which all the inhabitants drank. Whoever drank that water would go mad. The following morning, the whole population drank from the well and they all went mad, apart from the king and his family, who had a well set aside for them alone, and which the magician had not managed to poison.

The king was worried and tried to control the population by issuing a series of edicts governing security and public health. The policemen and inspectors, however, had also drunk the poisoned water and they thought the king's decisions were absurd and resolved to take no notice of them. When the inhabitants of the kingdom heard these decrees, they became convinced that the king had gone mad and was now giving nonsensical orders. They marched on the castle and called for his abdication.

In despair, the king prepared to step down from the throne, but the queen stopped him, saying: 'Let us go and drink from the communal well. Then, we will be the same as them.'

And that was what they did: the king and the queen drank the water of madness and immediately began talking nonsense. Their subjects repented at once; now that the king was displaying such wisdom, why not allow him to continue ruling the country?

The country continued to live in peace, although its inhabitants behaved very differently from those of its neighbours. And the king was able to govern until the end of his days."

..."Do you know what exists out there?"
"People who have all drunk from the same well."
 "Exactly," said Zedka. "They think they're normal, because they all do the same thing. Well, I'm going to pretend that I have drunk from the same well as them."
 "I already did that, and that's precisely my problem..." ' - from 'Veronika Decides to Die' by Paulo Coelho

Over the course of Autumns

Joanna is on somewhat of a high at the moment. She is enjoying this. It does, however, mean that she can no longer speak in the 'first person'. She is fine with this. She is now wondering if this entire entry is going to be as boring at this first sentence.

Hmm, we'll see...

So, over the past couple of weeks I've been concentrating (at work), trying to behave myself (at work), making mistakes with money (at work...oopsie!), celebrating Rosh Hashana with some Jewish buddies of mine (it was a bit like a Pagan ceremony what with the prayer and the eating of certain things at certain times, etc. Plus, apples dipped in honey = win), giving up her spare room to Wolverhampton wanderers, dancing and crying to Cavalcade (oh boys...you have brought the local music scene to life <3), making posters for musical eventings, decorating cakes for anniversaries, watching brass bands in smarmy little churches - 'niiiiice bit of Grieg!' ;), and re-writing Shakespeare choruses for filthy friends! Oh, and laughing ridiculously with the most awesome people in the world.

I only now, at my riiiipe old age, have the confidence (or the apathy) to just be creative and put my stuff out there. I partly have Sarah to thank for all her help with the flower arrangements I did for people when I lived in the Land of Wolves. Autumn comes alive this week, and it brings with it (as always) a part of life I connect with strongly. The Gods are most alive for me during the Winter and the Summer months, but over the course of Autumns things are more...(for want of a better noun - as always when speaking of such things) spirit based. However, I would like to get one thing straight - I am not a big hippie. Nor am I a Wiccan*. I connect to the old ways. That is perhaps the best way to describe things. As someone I knew long ago once said - 'Pagan, not pussy'.

Stop rambling and finish prettifying that cake, you slag.

Okay! Jeeeesus...! Wait, people should see this first - Clickedy And this - click.

The bards descend the waves of ancient seas

and poets' breath to decorate our trees

*grrrrrr

A solitary dancer...

'...driven by the irony that only being shackled to the road could ever I be free...'

Well my only full weekend off this month has been pretty much pooed on.

Now what I need is a solution. No point in dwelling on it, however perturbed I may be.

Time for a plan. Though all I want is to pack myself off to somewhere new already. And this is not me running away - this is my constant inner itch to do something new every single day, to drink in the world, to feel free...

'Ever since my childhood I've been scared, I've been afraid

of being trapped by circumstance, of staying in one place

and so I always keep a small bag full of clothes carefully stored
somewhere secret, somewhere safe, somewhere close to the door. '

'I have swam the lake of flames, walked forbidden tracks'

Just thought you all should know that:

...the changing rooms in Sainsbury's smell of wee :(

...being a builder/road workman/Tesco delivery man does not give you the earthly right to shout lude comments at anything with boobies. You pricks.

...giant, furry, Dr. Marten-wearing arachnids exist and they are everywhere. BEWARE.

...I started smoking when I was a teenager because I wanted to sing like Courtney Love. Thanks Ma'anit for reminding me of this wonderful weird little piece of my past. Though nobody seems to be able to remind me of why exactly I wanted to sing like Courtney Love in the first place. And I cannot fathom it to this day.

...I already have that divine thrust (lol) of wanderlust again. Where should I randomly move to once I've been in this job for a while? And why can I not stay in one place for more than a few months?

So my buddy, my pal James is back from the Greasey-land and this makes Joanna a happy girl. When I was in my early twenties I figured I'd already made all my best friends for life but I was wrong - over the past two years Sarah, Jo, and James have become (for fear of sounding like an Enid Blyton character) firm friends. Never underestimate the power of evolving and personal progression. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life who I click with on levels I never even thought possible.

I could go on but I don't want to gush. Err, that sounds gross.

My job starts on Monday. It's all a bit exciting. I've missed looking after people, it's one of the reasons I'm here and I thrive on it. I will have to stay organised if I want to fit everything I do now (and more because money will permit this) around work. I need a P.A. ...any takers?

Hmm, this entry has included lots of question marks. You don't need a psychology degree to work that one out!

This day in Joanna's life is dedicated to Mr. Stewart Copeland for being the main reason I blew all my inheritance money on a drum kit when I was fifteen. And for getting my feet (and legs, and hands) tapping stupidly and involuntarily to this very day.

'Only your real friends will tell you when your face is dirty'

Sometimes people don't like my honesty. That is fine.

I will remain always true to my path and to what I feel is right.

Though it is a shame. We had a blast.

Oh, Mr. Keats...

'Therefore, 'tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city's din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk...'

Italics = full-on shudder moments.

What would be my life without such utterly delicious words?