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Wednesday, February 13, 2002

Have you got a favourite colour? Are your clothes mainly of one hue? Is there one colour which makes you feel alive when you wear it? The past few years have seen me drawn into a mass of shocking pink and turquoise blue...and I'm leaning even more toward turquoise now - hey, maybe it'd look good with some bright red...

So, I put 'turquoise' into Google, and what did I find? Well, I'm suitably excited to learn that Turquoise International (Manufacturers of Finger Cymbals since 1972...as well you know) currently have sequinned veils at 33% off! Heck, all this stuff is fantastic..I want one of these!



The semi-precious stone Turquoise is, by coincedence, my birthstone. When I was little and these things mattered, I used to resent this as it was the only birthstone which wasn't a 'proper' sparkly jewel.

A dear colleague handed in her notice today, and I'm going to miss her so much. So down am I that I had to go and buy something turquoise and sparkly at lunchtime to lift my spirits...no, not a belly dancing outfit, just a cardy from M&S kids' department - far more suitable for a woman as scantily endowed as myself.

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Sunday, February 10, 2002

Yesterday I switched on the shower radio during my bath and found myself enjoying a surprisingly great programme of ska, cajun and South African music...but with no idea of what station I was listening to. Then the DJ came on and thanked me for listening to Radio 4A - hey, the local pirate station, clear as a bell in my bathroom!

One trip to the shops later and I'm back at my (communal) front door, pulling a yellow docket out of the letterbox. 'Receipt for seizure', it said. 'Transmitter - Radio 4A, found in loft.' So, one of my new neighbours is one transmitter lighter and the shower radio is back spewing out AOR and ads for double glazing...shame.


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Thursday, February 07, 2002

Being a kneeboots 'n' fishnets kinda gal, I am unhealthily excited at the prospect of being able to design my own tights! Bluddy expensive though...but oh, in the turquoise...



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Last night I got sucked back into Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, a book I first read when I was just eight years old and have reread countless times since. It has never lost its appeal for me. Even almost twenty years later the words leap from the page with fresh poignancy...ah, me...

'I could not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceased to notice me - because I might pass hours in his presence, and he would never once turn his eyes in my direction - because I saw all his attentions appropriated by a great lady...who, if ever her dark and imperious eye fell on me by chance, would withdraw it instantly as from an object too mean to merit observation...There was nothing to cool or banish love in these circumstances, though much to create despair. Much too, you will think, reader, to engender jealousy...But I was not jealous: or very rarely - the nature of the pain I suffered could not be explained by that word...she was too inferior to excite the feeling. Pardon the seeming paradox; I mean what I say. She was very showy, but she was not genuine: she had a fine person, many brilliant attainments; but her mind was poor, her heart barren by nature: nothing bloomed spontaneously on that soil; no unforced natural fruit delighted by its freshness...Other eyes besides mine watched these manifestations of character...this guardedness of his...this obvious absence of passion in his sentiments towards her, that my ever-torturing pain arose...I felt he had not given her his love, and that her qualifications were ill adapted to win from him that treasure. This was the point - this was where the nerve was touched and teased - this was where the fever was sustained and fed: she could not charm him.'

Tuesday, February 05, 2002

Ended up having a chance lunch à deux with a friend. Actually she started as as my friend's wife, but she is now officially a friend in her own right, she and her lovely husband. We put the world to rights for an hour and went back to work. And we took the opportunity to talk about something other than the fact they're *Having A Baby* :)

Song of the Day is Too Blind To See It by Kym Sims. Having heard it in a fashionable boutique on Saturday I now have it tattooed on my brain - does anyone have this on mp3, tape, vinyl, CD or wax cylinder that I can borrow?! Pleeeeease? (And you can throw in Finally by Ce Ce Peniston and Sybil's When I'm Good And Ready while you're at it!) Ta ;)

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Monday, February 04, 2002

'If I never see you again, you will stay in my mind...'

Today I just want to pay my respects to Mary MacDonald Mallinson. Few of you will have ever heard of her, but those who knew her will never forget her. Mrs Mallinson was my teacher for less than a year, when I was eight. She died a few days ago, and my mum sent me the clipping from the newspaper. She was one of those teachers who you were slightly scared of, but who treated an eight-year-old just as she would an adult. She was part Canadian Indian, and I still have a coloured pencil drawing of a Blackfoot chief I did in one of her classes - I remember doing the best I could, so she'd be pleased. She had a dry wit, a gift for storytelling, and I'm sure she had no idea about how admired she was, and what an impression she made on all her pupils. I'm just grateful our paths crossed.

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