Monday Morning, Pre-10 AM Stories

#1: In Victoria, I saw a wonderful camel-coloured boxer dog. Looked to be about 6 months old. Every few moments, its owner would tug it by the leash so hard, it would be pulled up onto its hind legs! This happened more than three times and I just couldn't stop watching. Why? Because just after each tug, when the pup was released, it would turn up and look at its owner with such a beseeching expression: 'Why are you doing this? I expected so much more from you'
Heinous anthropomorphisation there.


#2: 'Where yer roads would be, there's Wa-a!*'
Exclaimed the woman walking ahead of me along exhibition road. With her manner of speech, she sweepingly marred the description of Venice.
Her friend responds, 'Wo'! You mean no cars!'
I didn't expect such chavviness in South Kensington. Specially when I had just journeyed in from Croydon-land of the Chav.


#3: Perfect photo moments. As I was coming up Exhibition Road, a flock of pigeons suddenly took flight. Don't get me wrong, I think they are flying vermin. However, with the sky cllouded over, and looking up at the dome of the Victoria and Albert museum, with the pigeons peppering from the bottom right to the top left of the sky (in what would have been the frame). It was just a perfect moment. And I wish I had had my camera with me.

#4: What's worse than both those seperate events is the following; entering uni, and hearing Beyonce screeching out of the radio in the little canteen. Beyonce. She knows how to make one word go on for several bars no? I wish she would just stop. It feels like since leaving Destiny's Child, there's no one to restrain her and stop her warbling to her hearts content.


#5: Britain's obsession with the gruesome. Before I left the house today, I turned on the TV and it just happened to be on the channle broadcasting GMTV. As ever, on the hour, the news at 7 began. First story? Baby P. It's as though our Island is in the thrall of the tragedy that is Baby P. The facebook group has over 153000 members. The captions on the photos in this group are all along the line of 'You were too good for this world gorgeous baby-RIP'.
Is this today's equivalent of heart felt words? Empty words. It's crazy.
And it's not the first time that the British public has gone completely nuts about the latest abused child and managed to stretch the story out for 6months or more. I mean, to name a few, Holly (was it Molly?) and Jessica, Madeleine and now 'Baby P'.
Common factors? All blonde blue eyed arian children.
But people focus on one death for months. I'm sorry, but I guess I've become desensitised to this.
There are children being abused all over the world, dying in dire circumstances, children riddled with injuries from a war they don't understand, and all the British public can go ON about is One blonde kid. I think it's sad that our media can't shed light on more injustices in the world. I think it's sad that the people of this land are so..simple. So simple to get het up over one injustice, and are completely unaware, or simply being ignorant of how wide the world is.
Sometimes, I feel as though the public glean some sort of perverse pleasure out of feeling this false sympathy for kids like Baby P. Like, by joining a facebook group, and slagging off the mother shows that they are compassionate people, and they've done their bit.

When is enough, enough?

Rather funny facebook thread

Mozzarella wrote at 6:13pm on September 21st, 2008
I look...like a monkey

Sylverine (Queen Mary University of London) wrote at 6:42pm on September 21st, 2008
Are you being racist?

Ted (King's College London) wrote at 6:46pm on September 21st, 2008
To yourself?!

Mozzarella wrote at 6:50pm on September 21st, 2008
...Where is the racism in this?I'm saying, I look like a monkey. This makes me sad.

Sylverine (Queen Mary University of London) wrote at 6:53pm on September 21st, 2008
...the monkey bit...

Mozzarella wrote at 6:55pm on September 21st, 2008
HOW?!I look like a monkey!! MY FACE LOOKS LIKE A MONKEY!The least you could do is disagree! Not say I'm racist!

Sylverine (Queen Mary University of London) wrote at 6:59pm on September 21st, 2008
According to cricket, monkey is racist

Mozzarella wrote at 7:26pm on September 21st, 2008
O I see...I call everyone monkeys..and I'm not being racist. Shall I tell you why? Because life isn't cricket. Cricket it *your* life :)

Dink (Warwick) wrote at 10:08am on September 22nd, 2008
Lol. Everything about this page cracks me up :D

Mozzarella wrote at 10:50am on September 22nd, 2008
SOMEONE could disagree with me now re: monkey face

Ted (King's College London) wrote at 12:50pm on September 22nd, 2008
Oh sorry, Mozzarella... You don't look like a monkey you silly, um, banana?

Woman (Brunel) wrote at 8:46pm
I've just come across this. And laughed. Lots. :D

Mozzarella wrote at 8:52pm
O you're so evil

Social Convention

Social convention and courtesy. I'm finding it a real trial.
The little courtesies that must be followed in order to prevent estrangement.
You'd think that I'd be above the playground politics by now. Definitely not.

I believe that the Dictator has destroyed me. Broken me down. After building me up in the first year, breaking me down to my most basic of elements, ie. the solitary me, in the second, I'm waiting for the gentle rebuilding of the new me in the final year.

I had an epiphany over the summer. A moment where suddenly it all became clear to me. Out with the old, in with the new I say. Tired of social convention, and tired of being nice when I dont want to be. Sick of making such an effort with people when they do not return the favour.
The people of the Dictator have actually destroyed my spirit. That saying, it isn't possible for something to do something to you unless you let it. My meaning being, I have let things overwhelm me.

But in this Autumn, I am beginning my own personal rennaissance. It will be brilliant... a masterpiece. Out with all these fripperies and finery of false joviality. I will smile. I will be happy. I will leave those from the past and take in my future.
The time is now. Am I ready for it...


I'm going to bake a cake and mull this over.

Not moved..

Oddly,i am still in the throes of a cold happiness; i love london sometimes.

This moment..is wondrous.

Im sitting on a bench in Sloane square,feeling the rumble of the train beneath me, reading a book and generally just watching the crisp red leaves fall. I find myself strangely happy. The air around has that finger numbing bitterness of cold and change which is just SO london, and it feels right. This moment. I wish it could go on like this but then the banality would set in. I would habituate. And like every other londoner,i would begin to complain.
But. They say you know, you just know,when something feels right.

Eating feet is wrong

Who reads the ft with one arm above his head and the other at his hip?!

In other news,im officially no longer a Hawk-ette. Leaving do is this weekend. Looking forward to it somewhat.
Also, im back at the Dictator. I hate it. I cant wait till its over and i can squee about what i want to do with my life. But for now..i hate the Dictator with a passion. On the bright side,yesterday, a girl told me she liked my [fashion] style this brightened my day on the slight. However today, my super cute shoes have decided to take a bite out of the back of my feet. This is not cute.
End of the week..at least theres no dictatorship over the weekend.

Here come real stars

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.