Mr Blue Sky

I think I’ve probably said this before, but Newcastle always looks so fab under a blue sky. However, I also think it looks great under a dark grey sky – there are a lot of white buildings on my route home and I think the contrast with a dark, rain-cloud-filled sky looks amazing. But the sun just brings a happiness to the city. I love winter, curling up in the warmth and watching the snow fall but I love the way the onset of spring/summer brings a smile to almost everyone’s face.

Life is just… well, continuing in the perfect circle household atm. Handed my notice in at work, and, boy, will I be glad to leave this school playground masquerading as an office. I just wish people would either speak up if they have a complaint or take notice of the old, "if you don’t have anything nice to say" saying. And if they do have mean things to say, why do they always say it to me? I just want to come here, do my job, watch Lost before everyone else in the country, and go home. Studying’s going well. I have a weekend away next week and I kicked ass at tutorial last Friday so it’s all good. Not knocked up yet but I might have ovulated, so that’s a start. Zoe’s, well, she’s Zoe really. Funny, cute, smart and a whirlwind in equal amounts. I’m blown away by her memory and the rate she learns things.

My daily struggles are trivial – I can’t sing along with my mp3 player on the way to work. I hate this, the music is on there because it’s good, it cheers me up and what I love to do is sing along to it but I can’t. I sometimes mouth the words, but only if I know no-one is around because, let’s face, I’d look like a crazy public transport lady. What I also want to know is why are detectives in good novels/tv series, always divorced? I mean, Harry Bosch (Michael Connelly), Tempe Brennan (Kathy Reichs books), Seeley Booth (Bones), Megan Rhys (Lindsay Ashford books). Is it that you can’t have a life, a family, when you’re a detective bent on solving every case that crosses your path? I don’t know.

Partially inspired by salty*dog, I started decluttering my living room this week. I was hunting for a pink Z that I bought to put on Zoe’s bedroom door, I have O & E as well. But now I can’t find it anywhere. Very annoying. So I had to make do with the purple Z that my brother bought her. It doesn’t match, but, let’s face it, she doesn’t care, she’s just over the moon that her name’s on the door, which makes her room special. Anyway, during my decluttering, I reorganised my study books, & sorted out our dvds and came across 2 boxes of videos, another piece of technology that as a child was quite amazing to me, but that to Zoe will be archaic. I also sorted out my cassette albums, deciding which to replace with cds. I still refuse to move forward far enough that every bit of music I own is downloaded. I need the physical thing, plus if the computer died tomorrow, I’d only lose about 20 tracks (and they’re on my mp3 player anyway) as opposed to hundreds of albums.

Which brings me to an article I saw on the news this morning, about the demise of independent record shops. Vinyl, something else Zoe will think is archaic when she gets older. But I remember those teenage years, browsing Reddingtons in Birmingham for, well, anything really, just seeing what they had. Part of me thinks it’s so sad that these shops are a dying breed but then really, why are people surprised? I mean, my sisters don’t buy cds any more let alone cassettes or vinyl and I think they’re pretty indicative of that generation. And when Tescos can flog a cd for £8 or whatever, how can a small independent chain compete with that? But they will be mourned by some when they go and the homogenisation of the high street continues. You know, I’m not even sure what my point is here, it’s just sad and yet unsurprising.

Until there is a next time…
xx