Salivating at the Very Thought

It would be wrong to say that my entire Christmas was RUINED at the news that Baz Luhrmann's Gatsby's been postponed to May. But close.

I know, I know. Have patience. Good things come to those who wait. 

And in the meantime, look at these beauties. How glossy? How slick? How oh-so-sexy? Oh, and what I said about Leo? I TOTALLY take it back. 

It would have taken way more seagulls than Roald Dahl said...

...to lift James' Giant Peach. You can read about it here, if you like. A friend sent me it knowing I'd appreciate it. And I did. 

And aren't the illustrations lovely? 

I'm trying to read the bugger in French at the minute (it's 'grosse peche' in French, which is a bit of an troubling translation for me - like fat? Fat peach? Big fatty peach? Hmm). 

Well, I say trying. I mean looking up every second word. 

Apparently, it will IMPROVE MY FRENCH. And my resolve to stick at these New Year's Resolutions isn't fading. Oh no. Not yet. 15 days in (well, I started on the 6th, so technically, it's 9 days, but who's being a technical bore?) and I'm going strong. Like a trooper. 

Don't even want a beer. Wouldn't have it if you offered me one. Not even THINKING about a beer. A lovely Belgian beer. Nah. 

Eire

When I think about where I'd like to live long-term, I think of skies and a sea like this. 

Enniscrone, County Sligo, Eire. T'is beautiful.

Perfick Weekend

OK, so we weren't going to spend any money ever again until March. 

But then Bedders was about to depart for the UK for work for a wee while and so we spent our last Saturday together for a fortnight doing All Of The Things In Brussels We Like Best. 

This consisted of the following: 

Bedders going for a haircut while I browsed the second-hand bookshop Pele-Mele (I beg of you, watch the video), then Bedders joined me and browsed too (I'd nearly gorged myself on smelly books by this point, so we only needed another 15 minutes or so). 

Then we went to Belga which is full of boys with little beards and silly hats and too-cool-for-school sailor tats but the food is luscious and the mint tea is awesome. And we saw some friends and had some craic and that was pretty sweet. 

Then we debated going to Le Petit Coin (they now have a website, which is here, but it doesn't show their current stock and you can't buy anything via it, which renders it pretty pointless, although here is some other stuff I bought there if you're interested in).  

Sometimes we go and there's nowt of interest. Sometimes, though, we go and we DIE. 

Yesterday was one of the latter instances. 

So we bought a luscious chair, and a cushion ('Eeet is made of vintage how-you-say fabrique, non?') and a blanket and bedside cabinet of my Actual Dreams (my pinterest board 'Wor Hoose' has almost turned into a homage to bedside tables, of which this particular one from Le Petit Coin is the pinnacle). And then we just had to go to Habitat for crisp white bedding and a rug and some more cushions. And a lightshade. And a rug for the living room which is kind of brown and fluro pink. It sounds totally VILE but in reality it's Beauty Incarnate. 

Gaaaah. 

And so I'm getting the newspapers Bedders gave me for our anniversary framed. We were both born on a Sunday, so he procured the Observers from the days we were born as a first 'paper' anniversary gift - I was obviously born on a bumper news day as the headline screams something about POISONOUS LEAD PAINT IN CHILDREN'S PLAYGROUNDS, and Mark Thatcher was doing some wheeling and dealing on the day Bedders entered the world. I think they'll look a treat above the bed.  

And then our new neighbours had a party last night and invited us up. Marion wore a party dress and heels and served canapes and Laurent kept topping up the champagne. Everyone was lovely and we had the easiest journey home ever, i.e. down the internal stairs. BONUS. 

It started snowing yesterday afternoon and it hasn't stopped since. It's freezing but the light is lovely. 

So really this weekend has been rather lovely. It's almost alleviated the pain that the Gatsby release has been put back till May. 

Hope you've had similar amounts of fun!

German Exchange

Sooo I went to see the David Hockney Exhibition in Cologne. 

Hockers. What a guy. 

And it was AMAZING for the following reasons:

1) We booked, all casual like, online a couple of weeks beforehand. None of this Royal Academy queuing-for-months/selling-kidneys-in-order-to-procure-tickets nonsense. 

2) There was a *big breath* video installation on four walls with nine screens showing the same country lane but each wall showed it in a different season. Oh, and it was just impossible to look at without your eyes roving all over the thing and the wintery one hurt my eyes it was so brilliant and white like real snow. And it was, like, properly amezzin.

3) This painting was one of the first ones I saw and it blew my mind. 

Garrowby Hill, oil on canvas, 1998

The colours were unreal - this picture does it nooo justice. And the plough lines in the field must have been created by dragging some cardboard with a zig-zaggy edge through the paint like I remember doing in primary school. I just wanted to run my fingers over it and feel the ridges. 

4) Cologne was beautiful. And full of lovelocks which provided a non-insignificant amount of imstagram joy:

mismacdonner instagram

5) And we stayed in a B&B (within spitting distance of the Erotic Superstore, yer narr) which looked like THIS: 

WOAH. This isn't a futon, by the way. Actually a big, posh, white, shiny bed. 

So yes, Cologne. I can totally recommend it for luscious-arty-shopping-city-break. 

Now mustn't spend any money ever again until, err, March (at least). 

New Year Resolutions

Well, I’m a little late with these but, as everyone knows, New Year’s Resolutions don’t count until you’re back at work  - which, in my case, isn’t until tomorrow. So as you read these, please discount the fact that I had half a can of Leffe (6.6%! Jesus!) with my bread-based lunch. Oh, and the fact that there’s a wheel of Camembert in the fridge for a pre-dinner treat (yay, verily) and a choux pastry beauty also hiding somewhere in there to accompany The Thick of It (JURASSIC PARK THEME MUSIC) later on. Wah. 

And before you get all sniffy, let me tell you I deserve it. I really do. I’ve been slaving over Greek tragedy for my lovely-but-occasionally-a-bit-lazy IB group all day. By God, I wish I’d paid more attention during those 9am Classical and Biblical Lit lectures now. Still, getting there. Free will vs. fate. Hamartia. Oedipus the Athenian Ideal Bloke. Buuuuh. Bleeding eye sockets (mine, not Oedipus’). I’ve written BLIND! and DRAMATIC IRONY! and ARGH! in the margins more times than I care to recount. 

So, Im back to work tomorrow and all of the below will come into force with UNIMAGINABLE GUSTO. Oh yes they will. Ahem. 

NYR 1: Do something brave with my hair. 

This has been the year - OK, who am I kidding? The decade - of ‘Oo, looking a bit grey - shall I go for this slightly gingery-browny shade, or this slightly less-gingery shade? An inch off? Let’s push the boat out - make it an inch and a half!’

So do something brave. Which, for me, means short* or blonde. Ooo. 

*Not so short that my round childish face takes on the appearance of a Moomin, mind. That would be undesirable. 

NYR 2: Keep on reading.

Let me tell you a little secret: I used to have a pretty terrible job. I don’t need to discuss the ins and outs of it here; but let me assure you that it was pretty terrible, for a whole host of reasons (and, here’s the disclaimer, many of which were outside of anyone’s control). Tackling a new text in class, something different  - something other than Of Mice and Men - was unthinkable. To do so would have required super-human effort - and a brand new, fully resourced scheme of work. Oh, and a set of new books, which we didn’t have any money for in the budget for anyway. 

Fast-forward seven or eight months and here I am, in Brussels, at a marvellous school with tonnes of resources teaching A level and IB amongst as well as my Key Stage 3 and 4 classes. And I’ve had to read and re-read about a gajillion books to get up to speed with the new courses and specs. So I picked up In Cold Blood by Truman Capote in the summer as a starting point and, well, something was reignited in me. Instead of browsing a lazy three pages in bed out of a sense of duty before I pass out I’m reading like a demon - and a 25 minute tram journey to and from work every day is helping matters. This has been the year of fabulous books - re-reading everything from Oedipus Rex to Brighton Rock to Madame Bovary and picking up new gems like The Beauty Myth and Jeanette Winterson’s entire back-catalogue (um, might have gone a bit mad on Amazon. PS - this is essential viewing). Long may it continue. 

via my pinterest

NYR 3: Produce some writing.

I realise the irony of writing this when I’ve not posted anything on here for, like, nearly two months, but I have been a) busy and b) scribbling the odd thing elsewhere and squirreling it away to keep me stimulated creatively daaaahling. 

So write. Here. Elsewhere. Keep it up.

I was always crap at keeping a diary when I was younger, and this is the longest I’ve stuck with writing anything. And what started as a frothy wedding blog has actually turned into a nice record of stuff, you know - particularly of things I’ve read. I like getting all my scribbled quotes and underlined bits in one place. So I should keep on doing it.  

NYR 4: Don’t be a dick.

Self-explanatory. Whaddya mean, no? Well, let me expand. Count to ten before turning into my alter-ego (Bitchface O’Reilly). Think the very best of people wherever possible. Be fair. Look at air sterwards when they do the safety talk. Work hard. Forgive and move the feck on. Try to remember what it was like to be 17 when kids don’t hand their homework in. Don’t drop litter. Yadder yadder. 

Don't be a (Moby) Dick

NYR 5: Get better at French (and at doing mes devoirs). 

Stop whinging about it. Just do it. This is far too good an opportunity to waste. 

And with that, I just heard my future nagging mum voice. Gah. 

That's right! Over 400 exercises!

NYR 6: Walk the Hadrian’s Wall Walk

I had an epiphany the other day that I hate coming home from holiday feeling like a bloated, over-indulged slug. Just me? ‘Why not do really exciting active holidays?!’ I 
cried. Then started googling health and detox trips. Some of them, admittedly, sounded horrific. But some of them sounded awesome. And then we devised our own 'active holiday' which'll involve walking this beast (possibly in April, although more likely in July). It will probably be cold, and almost certainly be wet, but I bet it’ll be stunning, too. 

picture

PS - Holidays for 2013 other than Hadrian’s Wall Walk TBC. Watch this space. I haven't totally given up on the idea of detoxing and ohm-ing at a hardcore health farm on rations of stale bread. 

NYR 7: Value my time more

What this actually means: don’t spend time going up and down the bums’n’bikinis sidebar of the Daily Mail website and don’t go on Facebook (or at least hide the people who you know for a fact you get sucked into looking at).

Instead, do what you know from experience makes you feel better. Go for a run. Read or write - we’ve covered those already. Learn something. Make more effective use of twitter (it’s where all the cool cats seem to be these days - yes, I know, always late to the party, me). 

So that’s me. And if you’re really lucky - and I remember - I might drag this up next year and see was a resounding success/spectacular failure I’ve been in 2013. 

.."Promises

made to be broken, made to last."

Jackie Kay