Saturday, November 4

Friday, November 3

Bang. Bang. Bang.

guess what's going on outside? Hummm...

The sister came back from uni again today, I presume she misses me too much to be away from me too much, and even though she was scowling at me a fair amount today, that this is her greatest form of affection for me, because she is unable to express how much she loves me. Really, I really, really think so. & so should you.

We went for lunch. They (my mum and her) thought it was a fantastic idea to tip the barman. I did not. Why? He's doing his job; certainly, he was friendly & everything, but still, I think that's a bit generous. He poured us three drinks. Big deal.

Or perhaps it's just because I'm moodifying over the fact I don't even have a single note in my purse, in typical poet-in-western-style-poverty (joke -- don't sue me for being unpolitically correct) style. Nevermind lovely purple £20 notes, I don't even have a scrawny fiver! But fear not, I don't expect you to pity me, just that when my oh-so-fabulous chapbook is finally published, it'd be nice if you bought it. It'd make me smile. Really, it would. Not convinced I'd tip people even then, but it would make me happy. & Everyone knows a happy Katy is a good thing.

Still, the food was very good, I shall admit that much.

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Tscch... enough self-indulgence, or not?

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photos. I have them. From 3 disposable cameras. Most turned out ok. Some of Warwick & friends from there, others just from pottering (I've never understood where that verb comes from, but it sounds nice, I like the rhythm to it..) around the house, others from London. Eeee, they are so lovely, lovely, lovely. I might make a big collage of them on the inside of one of my wardrobe doors, but that might mean having to take another display down. (I used to have photos all around one wall, around the circular mirror, though after I took them down to take with me for Warwick -- after all, couldn't be expected to cope without such lovely things, could I? -- I couldn't be arsed fiddling round getting them in a nice display.) It's also far easier -- and misconceivably (is that a word?) 'tidy' to put my 'displays' up on the insides of my wardrobes. That way, only people I know a bit at least, should be looking in there, and also it makes my room look a bit tidier on the facade, even though it's a tip of stacks/ piles of everything, & altogether much mess.

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editing is going very well. & I mean, verrrrry well. Things should be finished (for this, at least) verrry soon!

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All lovely people (I think 'lovely' seems to be my word of the day. Anyhow, it doesn't go down in value because I've used it lots today, it retains entirely wonderful) who've managed to get this far into my ramblings deserve a metaphorical pat on the head. I'd say 'pat on the back', but I prefer to pat people on the head because you can then make their hair all messy & see whether it bothers them. Very amusing, I can assure you. & immature, but hey-ho, I'm not going to grow up just yet.

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PS. Hopefully I'll come back with some meaningful stuff another day.

Thursday, November 2

Important Writing News!

I shan't even do the whole 'guess what?' thing, instead I shall get to the point: Zoe Brigley from The University of Warwick returned my manuscript -- either yesterday, or the day before, and I have now received it!

As a writer, the best feeling I can get, bar having written/ edited something which makes me 'oooh' all over, is having someone spend time critically reading my writing and telling me what they think, giving me nudges in the direction they think I should head in. So I am incredibly thankful to Zoe for this (who also was a tutor at the NAGTY creative writing summer school).

I love editing. It's addictive, and appeals to me a LOT. Which is why I am -- yet again -- editing the poems. Thing is, I am actually getting so much happier with the writings. I don't want to publish something which doesn't show my work at its best, I really want to make it as strong as I can.

& Then I need to sort out the drawings. Ooh, much excitement! Plus I'm listening to that Queen CD again which just makes me dance like hell, I am finding it so difficult to try and sit still; another reason I'm typing so fast, to exit my fidget-ness this way.

Wednesday, November 1

Pasta's cooking

& takes about 8 mins, has already been in for about 3, will probably boil over if I don't check soon, so this is a quick post. Plus, radio1's on loud downstairs, and my dad will go beserk if he knows I've left the pasta & the radio on while I'm up here.

Pouring out the pasta reminded me of those shakers we used to make. You know, the ones everyone makes in primary, rainy-day-makeshift-'musical'-instrument type thing. No childhood complete without them. I like being inbetweeny awkward adolescent, don't feel like growing up. It'd be fun to be like this forever, never having to be adult or child, just able to choose between the two, and shove them together in an awkward, hilarious-to-the-person-who's-doing-it clash. Mmmm... I need to go check the pasta.

My fingers feel weird as I type this. I'm cold, yet I'm sat here in jeans, t-shirt, shirt, extra-large hoody which goes just past my bum, socks and fluffy slippers. I plan to move abroad when I can. I also plan to holiday - whenever I find my passport, that is. It actually worries me, just not having the option of getting away, even though I'm not planning to. Hey-ho, pasta calls...

How To Remember, & a link.

How To Remember

(for S.V)

Hurl reminiscing away. Smash it up,
the photographs, spit out that saliva
you sucked inbetween your teeth – spit it,
on rose-tinted snaps, which had you –
stomach shaking, eyes stinging.
The cochlea echoes, a voice
that tossed over past waves.

Show willing – for once,
just this once, put out the reeking bins
again. Watch from your windows, peer around
the apple tree, spying with permission.
They take the bin bags out,
empty your stuff into
a gross churning machine.
And let’s listen to the metal, chomping away.
Don’t succumb.

©Katy Murr 2006

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Writing my writings out into the Muji notebook I got was extremely cathartic. I was also pleased; most I am as content with as I think I'll get, and it helped to make a few changes by physically writing them; you concentrate on the overall thing, and I suppose it's more effort than just re-reading/ scanning them.

S.V, it's changed a tad since you last saw it- I hope you'll agree it's improved, though?

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The sky's a light blue for once. An exciting change to wake up to!

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( http://www.guardian.co.uk/women/story/0,,1936408,00.html

I've a feeling that without mentioning women -- and here I refuse my urge to use an exclamation mark or embolden the font -- in the actual link, more people reading this would open it. Feel free to disagree, but I doubt I'll be changing my mind.)

Tuesday, October 31

18.30

is apparently when I'm meant to be going out. So I have four hours in which to do a lot of things. Likely or not that I will finish my list? We shall see.

A neighbour with annoyingly loud tools in the garden

is annoying (it gets bold and italics, that explains the state of my annoyance!) me. Lovely...(you get used to them if you live here) sounds of northern rah-rah state weather, trees hitting into each other, branches smashing together, rain whirling round, plant pots falling over and rolling over the patio until they reach another pot and clunk! (I'm only resisting elaborating and having a go about the person for the sake that my identity is perfectly clear on this blog. Fear not, otherwise, I would.)

Grrr... why interrupt the sounds? Plus my room (and the study) are at the back of the house, so I get more of the noise than you do in anyone else's bedrooms.

{I'm now playing The Raconteurs, Together, over the annoying sound. I think it'll be one of those songs I play again & again. Unfortunately haven't yet fathomed the 'loop'/ repeat button on media played. I suppose I ought to have by now, particularly given my listening habits}

[Did you notice that I didn't just use ordinary brackets there? Maybe the pretty things have a different use, I don't know, I thought I'd give some alternation to your lives. Thank me if you wish; I doubt I'll refuse it.]

I always think of things to say on here. Like I wanted to say how surprised/ glad I was when I woke up the other day (canne remember which, I lose track of time during the holidays/ breaks) and the clocks had given us another hour. Actually, that would've been Sunday, the day when I decided to wear my new boots for a family outing. Bad idea. I should get walking boots. We all should. It would probably make use of the NT card; at least, it makes sense that it would, even if my parents don't agree. (Personally I just think they want to disagree with me most of the time. What is a parent-daughter relationship if not full of disagreements? One where the daughter models the mother, blow-dry perfect hair in tow? Scary thought.)

Anyhow, I made a list of things I wanted to do today. So far I have done two. I feel quite good about that.

I did my college application forms. & I made more 'presents' for friends. Believe me, if you're going to be receiving one of these presents -- or more than one, although that's highly unlikely when you think about approximately how long it takes me to make one (a ridiculous amount of time, stupid, stupid length of time, but I'm only starting, so I'm slow at the moment with it) -- then know that I love you. A lot. I wouldn't spend so much time over them if not; if not, I would just go out & buy you something, an excercise in giving a little money & a little thought, but not an excercise like that I am currently undertaking for you. Perhaps after Christmas I shall put some pictures up of the presents I am making for people (the presents aren't the same, btw, there are different types, and different variations)

{bloody hell, the pictures still won't upload. 'Error'. Crap. I wanted to show you that post card. It would give you a good insight, believe me. You'll see soon, hopefully. Perhaps I need to change the file type? Or make it smaller? Someone with technical knowledge, if you could help, I would be grateful. Probably not eternally grateful, but grateful nevertheless.}

yes, so I can put up the pictures, & everyone else can look at them, & know how much I love you :P & Feel jealous that they don't get such wonderful presents. (Unless, of course, they do -- or, if they're simply not arsed -- Mum, if you're reading this, pardon my use of that word; and of all the others you'd disapprove of -- yes, so if they're simply not arsed about getting delightful 'oooh' presents, then, well, I doubt they'll be bothered about it.) Still, I would quite like to put the pictures up of them, so I can sit in my chair, musing 'nerr' to myself. :)

(Oh, & I have bought some people presents. But they are still very special ones. & They aren't 'gettable' -- shove being articulate for another blip -- anywhere.)

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*Writing news*

  • I am indeed allowed quotes; although they shall have to be examined on a case-by-case basis.
  • I have begun writing out my sort of 'finalised' collection in a book I bought from Muji yesterday (I bought 3 new notebooks. & tries out the sofas again, naturally.)
  • I am going to do the following today:
  • try to finalise my collection, so I can send it off & ask for comments. (how many times have I said this? But I really need to do it!)
  • narrow down the ideas for the title (I never was good at choosing when it was something which excites me; & yes, the prospect of the title certainly does this.)
  • do more drawings (to accompany my writings), &, hopefully, get my lovely dad to show my how to scan them on really, really high resolution
  • find/ locate some more quotes, and think about where I want the quotes to go. (This will be made easier by the fact I forgot to return the books to the library in town -- is it about 6 times I've renewed them online now? Something ridiculous like that. There's a quote I want from Larkin's bio (can't remember who it's by. Not Motion's.) about the sectioning of the self. I shall hunt it down!)

But now, I think it is time to go & make myself smell good.

Monday, October 30

Today

was lots of fun. Town, shopping, Muji, seeing friends, a clarinet lesson which actually went well... what more could the Murmenator ask for?

Have bought a book from Muji especially so I can copy out the poems I want in my chapbook. I think it will help me finalise it, having something to actually hold.

Sunday, October 29

Anno

He is at the very top of my 'interesting things' folder on my favourites.

http://www.anno.co.uk/

Not enough people know about him.

Have a read, have a look, have a listen.

(& thank you for giving me the book in the first place.)

I don't want to ramble more about him, or waste your time when you could be having a look. Just have a look, please.

---- (Little interlude, again...)

PS - I left the mp3 at home, and my mobile. Aren't I lovely, eh?

PPS - I find myself adding 'so' at the end of each sentence again, when I'm speaking. It comes and goes in blips, but came from going to Germany. Argh.

Snapped,

the state of the much-loved clarinet reed which I'd spent a few sessions trying to break in. Went downstairs this morning, it lay on one of the tables in the front lounge, tip of it snapped off.

I decide to ask my dad about it, whilst picking at my fruit toast (part of my lovely brunch, which also comprised of about half the pack of grapes, a glass of tropicana, and some mini caramel shortcake things. Note to everyone: fruit loaf toasts quickly. I went to get the door to let my mum in & mine had already burnt.)

'Oh, I was playing with it last night.' Yes, this was the last night they went for a meal at a neighbour's... probably aided with lots of wine... But still, 'playing'? With my clarinet reeds? No, my clarinet reeds are to be left alone. People don't realise how easily they snap if they don't play.

'it snapped by accident'.

That's pretty much all he said. With a smile at the end.

Not impresed.

People who don't play also don't realise that it can take a loooong while to break a reed in. Anyway, I'm not angry about it. For one thing, I wouldn't be blogging about it if I were as they can read this perfectly easily, as can anyone else. Two good things came out of it 1) I used a new reed, which looks just as lovely aesethically (sp?) as the other one did (the reason I wasn't happy that it got snapped) & also has a far better tone, much more rounded & full, the first scale I played on it (simple, F major) came out fabulously.

2) I had a free house, so could have friends round without parents fussing. Lovely.

& Now I have to go, to be a good daughter and spend time with my parents. Smile with me.

(I think I might take my mp3. Perhaps... and maybe wear my boots? Or will they get too muddy? Uhm...)