This journal is going to be mostly friends-only from now on: I'm quite happy to add people as friends, I'm just hesitant about the whole thing being available to be viewed freely.  Comment if you want to be added.

As a break from essay-planning, I wrote a letter. This one's in a prettier envelope than usual, because it contains a birthday card (I'm not sure why the envelope is red, it makes it look as if I'm being very organised and doing my Christmas cards early). I've been meaning to post pictures of one of my letters for a while, but the last one I did I really messed up the seal, so I didn't photograph it. ( This one's a bit better. )

The above line was wonderful, so I needed to quote it somewhere on my El Jay. It's from a news story about a man presumed dead. I have to say, I feel sorry for the friends and family of the man who actually was dead, though. The story doesn't have any sympathy for them.

I wrote it on Thursday, mostly, I just didn't post it. It still counts.

Being me again – by which I mean going to university during the day, reading for most of the night. I don’t have to try to be something I’m not any more. On a superficial level, that includes having my hair dark purple again (although I redyed it last week, but it still counts) and wearing skirts with boots.

Being around people who recognise quotations. I deliberately wore my Prufrock necklace to university yesterday, and it was great being around so many people who recognised it and commented on it. It’s amazing how few people in ‘the outside world’ do recognise it.

Not driving so much, for two reasons: a) it means if I want a glass of cider in the evening, I can have it without worrying that I might need to drive later, and b) it means my current tank of petrol has lasted me over a month.

My professor for Poetic Forms, Cowboy Professor (so called because he wore a cowboy hat yesterday. He was dressed like a normal person other than that), because he’s absolutely hilarious. I don’t think a two hour seminar has ever passed so quickly for me (and we ran over, too).

Being able to make mistakes, accept them, and move on. (I can’t do this academically yet, but the fact that I can do it in other areas of my life is a good sign, I think).

Being told on a near-daily basis that I’m brilliant. It’s good for the ego, even if it isn’t strictly personal.

That my ‘working week’ is over, because I’m tired (we’ll ignore the huge amount of reading I have to do over the next few days for the purposes of this bulletpoint)

This will be another short TiLT, I think, because I’m quite tired and again, not much has happened this week.

That I’m feeling better today than I have been most of this week.

Writing long LJ posts, even if nobody reads them.

That it’s finally October

That it’s Freshers’ Week next week, and then the official start of term

That even though I eat loads (in an attempt to boost my energy), I don’t gain weight

My new cage. I really, really love it, and it’s nothing like as messy as people on message boards say it is

That the rats are getting on well together

My new Christmas pudding rat bed that mother brought in today

Discovering new LJ prompt communities

The changing colours of the leaves at the moment: I must get out and take photos of it.

Short list of things I’m loving this week, as I can’t think of very many new things. I don’t think anything’s really happened this week.

The fact that I’m getting quite good at being invited to interviews now. I must be doing something right, even if I do struggle to prove that I’m British*.

The fact that I actually know where my next interview’s taking place!

Only needing to wait two and a bit weeks for the new term to start.

The fact that I’ve ordered The Year of the Flood and it should be here next week (Amazon free shipping, although it’s often quicker than advertised)

A slightly negative one: the fact that I’m now a decent distance from some my relatives, who seem to get less tolerable as time goes on (and I thought they hit rock bottom last year. Nope, still digging, apparently).


*Which is odd, considering that I’ve been described as ‘the most English person in the world’. I assume that’s because I’m addicted to tea.

This week’s TiLT is an interesting one, because it’s a Thursday on which I actually feel cheerful (for some reason, Thursdays usually aren’t good for me, and never have been, although conversely, a lot of the best things have happened to me on Thursdays. I first met FL on a Thursday, for example).

Anyway, this week I’m loving:

Basil and Phlebas being so small and so cute.

The fact that it’s only two weeks until my fabulous new cage comes.

Ottie making friends with the new boys (picture below)

Hearing from people with whom I lost touch years ago

Almost being able to count down the days until term starts (October 12th)

( Picture )

This is likely to be a mostly superficial edition of TiLT, but a bit of superficiality never hurt anyone, I figure.
( Food and uncharacteristic gushiness under the cut )

I made these a couple of days ago, and didn't bother posting them. I will now, though. Each is based on one of my favourite items of clothing.

( Three sets )

TiLT for this week: it's been a good week, surprisingly, so this might be long.

Mega love to my New University for giving me a departmental postgraduate award – it's wonderful to be thought worthy of these accolades, and even more wonderful to be given them before I've even started there!

Having an extra layer of purple shininess setting on my hair as I type – yay for (hopefully) being properly purple again!

Going to the beach with two of my favourite ponies in the world, even if my bestest girl has decided she doesn't like the sea any more

My daily cup of normal tea – oh how I miss being able to have it more often, but once a day does make it special

The days getting shorter and cooler – bring on the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!

Books for the new semester coming through my front door

Rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Starting at New University in six weeks' time

Finally having a nice picture on an identity card!

The Body Shop's new perfume range - it smells just like Lush American Cream, which can only be a marvellous thing.

If you read nothing else today, read this. It was just what I needed today.

I think this is my first TiLT in a couple of weeks, as things have been hectic and generally unfun in TTK-land recently. It's amazing how much time and energy it takes going to the hospital every day, as well the amount of effort looking after the house and household effectively alone, so I'm usually far too tired to do anything other than collapse when I get a moment to myself.

But, as Thursdays are about positivity, let's take stock, shall we?

My grandfather being out of the High Dependency Unit! He's still ill, and still in hospital, but he's on a normal ward now, rather than intensive care, and he's not hooked up to a thousand wires and moniters now, just his oxygen mask (respiratory ward).

Honey performing surprisingly well in her first ever ridden competition

My new necklace which came in the post today (and it came with a Haribo Maoam sweetie, too!) (There's a story to my relationship with 'Prufrock' which I might share at some point. Or, knowing me, I won't, because I'll forget).

This site in general

Getting some of the enrolment information from New University

Herbal tea (I have to seriously cut down on my normal tea, as my anaemia still isn't getting better, and the tannins in 'normal' tea block the absorption of iron, hence replacing it with herbal. My favourite is fennel.)

The rats playing with the dog, and all six of them (5 rats, one dog) loving it

Little butterfly flickers of nerves about the new semester, but knowing it's definitely what I want

Normally, I really like Sailor pens, particularly the Sapporo, as it comes in a size small enough for my small female hands, without feeling cheap, as small, lightweight pens have a tendency to do. I have a Sapporo: I don't use it that often as it's more fussy about paper and writing speed than some of my pens are, but with a Japanese XF nib I can't really expect any less.

In fact, here it is:

(In the centre.)

I also have no objection to Hello Kitty: I quite like Hello Kitty. However, I find something very disturbing about the special edition Hello Kitty Sapporo Mini. Something about it makes it look as though it should cost $10, rather than $173. I know it's wonderfully made, and would write well, and that that nib is 14k gold, but even so, it looks very cheap. I really hope it looks better in person, although I'm unlikely to ever see one to find out.

This is evidence, I think, not so much of me being a prolific writer but of my obsessions being consuming: yes, the first of these journals is from 1998, so I've been doing this for eleven years, but even so, starting the fiftieth volume of my journal at the relatively tender age of twenty-two frightens me.

( Cut for length/ image heavy )

This post is an extension of a comment I posted over at dyed_hair. My thinking got a little carried away from the initial question, hence my reposting it as a separate essay over here.

Compared with most of the posters in that community, my hair is quite tame. Over the years, it's been many shades of brown, blonde, red and black, and I've been dying it since I was 13. When I was 18, I dyed the front of it pink while the rest was black, and it's been purple for a few days now. Otherwise, it's always been 'natural' colours, which might explain the difference between my experiences and theirs. That said, I attended a very small, very conservative all-girl private school, where non-conformity was seen both by staff and students as a fate worse than death: I was certainly the most 'extreme' person there, appearance-wise.

Now, I'm a quiet little soul: I tend to sit and read, sometimes listening to music, very rarely writing something (I've learned that it's unwise to write in public: invariably people will want to see it, and even my essays weren't 'standard reading' when I was at school (proto-queer theorist even then, they tended to emphasise latent homosexuality, and/or phallic and seminal imagery). I don't start bitch fights. I don't write on the boards or the walls. I have never destroyed an item of school uniform or school property. In my actions, at least, I've always been a model student: quiet, sensitive, stays out of the way and reads (even at my own birthday...). And yet it wasn't always assumed that that was the case. Now, in a rougher area or school I might be willing to assume that someone sitting reading could be reasonably assumed to be on drugs (although I've never seen anyone read while high, but I'm trying to be open-minded for scholarly purposes), but in such a conservative environment it would seem more likely that the assumption was based on my appearance (although it was phrased as 'did you know that ____ thought you were on drugs?!' 'why?!' 'because you're so quiet' 'um, I'm reading... of course I'm not going to be loud'). That appearance was, at the time I'm mostly thinking of, just-past-shoulder length black hair with pink bits at the front (no pictures of it, unfortunately), and four piercings in each ear. I wouldn't say that was remarkable in the slightest: I see far stranger on a regular basis. The only open reaction I can recall occurred several times: I had quite a few people at school say, 'do you know some of your hair's pink?' or just 'your hair's pink!' No, really, I hadn't noticed... I'm not sure whether that qualifies as a positive or a negative reaction. Oh, and quite a few people asked, usually in horror, if it was permanent. That's another odd one: does it make a difference to a classmate whether my hair's going to be pink in a few months' time? Besides which, as my hair colour changed at regular intervals in those days the colour being permanent would have made precious little difference.

While this wasnb't specifically directed towards me, I once had a rather strange 'friend' bitching to me for ages about the 'bad people' at her school, and how they must be really stupid because they have dyed hair, piercings and play guitar (musical talent is clearly an indication of a degenerate individual!). I quietly pointed out that I had and did all of the those things, and got straight As. I'd like to think it changed her mind, but then a few years later she randomly informed me that her grandmother wouldn't approve of me, so maybe not. She didn't say why her grandmother would disapprove – perhaps her grandmother really dislikes master's students, for all I know! - and I didn't ask, I merely said that was fine, since I tend to disapprove of judgemental people.*

Speaking of grandmothers, my own late grandmother used to frequently say that she preferred my natural colour, but she never really made an issue of it, once her shock at the latest colour change had subsided. She used to say that my piercings were 'mutilation', and did get very upset at my one and only facial piercing, although she calmed down significantly when I assured her that it wasn't permanent. I'm not quite sure why she thought it was, and thought it unwise to press the matter.

While I obviously don't condone negative reactions to a person's appearance at all, I can understand it a little more when it's piercings or tattoos (I haven't mentioned reactions to my tattoo in this essay because nobody's ever noticed it to have any reaction whatsoever), since they do hurts, and in the case of tattoos are basically permanent, and I can see why voluntarily doing that would be incomprehensible to some people. My usual explanation of 'yes, it hurts for a second – less than you expect, usually – but you have a piercing which you've wanted for ages long after the pain has faded, and it means you can look the way you want to' generally seems to explain it well enough, for those who ask. There are a surprising amount of people who seem convinced that my labret piercing must hurt me a lot, which confused me immensely until one of them asked me about the butterfly back hurting my gums, and showing them that it has a flat back both amazed them and answered their question. I find that very few people seem to notice that much, either, which is arguably a little odd, since it's (almost) in the centre of my lower lip, but then, I rarely notice it, and I rarely dress like 'the type' to have piercings, so I rarely get such assumptions/ expectations now.

That brings me to another point: the effect clothes have on first and subsequent impressions. I'm aware that the clothes can't always be a factor, since the examples I gave from school all occurred with people who pretty much only saw me in school uniform. However, it's worth noting that I've never had a bad reaction to my hair or my piercings from anyone I know through my horses, as they tend to see me in muddy wellies, jodhpurs and a muddy coat, so I come across as 'horsey teenager' rather than 'rebel', presumably. Additionally, most of the people I meet now know me in an academic context, wearing what I think of as my 'university uniform' of shirt, knitted vest, jeans or skirt, blazer so I'm treated as an academic rather than as a 'bad girl', regardless of my piercings. It's unfortunate, in a way, that my hair was either black, natural brown, or red for the four years I attended Undergrad University, because it would have been interesting to see if an unnatural colour would have made a difference. I suspect it wouldn't have, since it's an environment where you'd judged more on intelligence and (unfortunately) nationality, rather than appearance. Additionally, there were two girls in my year with 'alternative' appearances. One switched to philosophy and got married, the other specialises in an 'unusual' area of literary studies, in which a 'different' appearance seems to be their uniform (none of that group wear colours, for example, and I was highly disappointed to see Amusing Professor wearing brown when I collected my dissertation result in June, as I'd assumed she wore only black. I liked to think that everything she owned was black, including curtains, bedclothes etc. That image is ruined now). I suppose it might be interesting to see how things pan out at New University, where my first appearance will be with purple hair (assuming I don't change it before then). I shall have to document my findings then.

I think it's also worth considering that as well as my experiences being purely anecdotal, it's worth remembering that most of the negative or questionable reactions to my appearance happened when I was aged between 14 and 18, an age at which many teens do rebel, act out, and become generally 'wild', or at least are perceived to be doing so, and thus any sign of such things is pounced upon by those with few brains. Aged 20 plus, you've usually perceived as an adult, and therefore you're perhaps expected to be more moderate in your behaviour and appearance. People tend to see what they expect to see, rather than what's actually there, which is a more important point to this discussion that its position in this essay might suggest, I think. I won't link to the numerous studies which have been done on this phenomenon, as I'm sure most of my readers will already know of the ones I mean. Besides which, this isn't intended to be a psychological essay; I don't have the knowledge for that.

This essay, while short by my usual standards, is getting quite long, and I feel that it needs a conclusion. As is usual in my meandering thoughts, I don't actually have one. I think it's also necessary to suggest that some of the time, those with an 'alternative' appearance may feel that reactions to their appearance are less positive than they really are, perhaps due to a few bad experiences creating a minor complex. I certainly went through a phase in which I was convinced people were staring at me: when I'm feeling particularly insecure, I sometimes still think they are. Rationally, though, I'm well aware that they're not. Most people, myself included, are far too self-absorbed to really notice others; they're too busy thinking about their children, when their lunch break is, what to cook for dinner, etc. Moreover, on the occasions when I do notice somebody's appearance, and may look for longer than half a second, it's almost always because I think they look good, for whatever reason. I think more people would do well to remember that, too. I'll close, then, with a quotation from Brendan Behan with which I don't always agree, but on this occasion it's apt: 'No publicity is bad publicity.' The same, then, might be said of cursory attention from strangers in the street.





*I suspect it might have been more to do with the fact that I'm of an 'alternative' sexuality, although the 'friend' in question doesn't know what that sexuality is, as I don't see it as being anybody's concern except my own, and that of any future partner(s) I may have. And my sexuality certainly isn't visible, anyway. Incidentally, if anybody cares to explain why my unspecified alternative sexuality is an issue to strangers, please feel free to enlighten me. I'd genuinely like to know.