every hand's a winner

From my window at work I can see a rooftop where seagulls give their chicks solo flying lessons. Seagull chicks are practically bigger than their parents, and anytime I've seen them, I've noticed how incredibly dopey they are. The adults take the chicks to the roof, then fly off and leave them. The chick stands on the roof and screams until its parents return. They pace for a while, then fly off again. I'm watching this one chick in fascination, willing it to take off.

Edit: Ten minutes later, it's given up screaming, and is lying down.

Today is our lunar/hijri/islamic calendar wedding anniversary.

I've waited for more than ten years to write this:

I passed my driving test!

Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth “you owe me”.

 

You owe me.

Good things about the extreme heat

- The relief you get upon entering an air-conditioned or cooled room
- The absolute, unadulterated joyfulness of having a shower and feeling all the sweat and heat wash away
- The gorgeous feeling of clean, wet hair
- The deep sleep that is possible in an air-cooled room

Non-good things about the extreme heat

- the TV screen melting while you're trying to watch "The Queen" (thank you geshmally  for the prompt)
- the lock warping so you can't get into the house, and having to wait outside in the garden for half an hour in 50 degrees for someone else to come and jiggle the lock expertly before getting inside, where there's no electricity anyway
- When it's humid and there's no electricity and you sweat profusely
- Not being able to eat enough food because the heat zaps your appetite

When I discovered I was pregnant I read through different pregnancy information sites and blogs. I stopped that after a while because I got confused by all the different information.

Anyway, one part that stuck with me was about how FAT you get during pregnancy and how you EAT everything you want and you ignore all these social restrictions on how you should be on a permanent diet and miserable because you have a free pass to stuff yourself full of as much food as you can fit inside you. So that was rather obnoxious and mean, and the article ended with "When you're not pregnant anymore, you'll have to get used to the feeling of "hunger" again", as if, while being pregnant, women woke up in the morning and started shovelling food down their throats and didn't stop til bedtime.

I can tell you, I won't need to get "used" to the feeling of hunger again. I AM HUNGRY ALL THE TIME.

After the first 13 weeks of permanent nausea and no appetite, now I feel permanently hungry and it's good, because I have enough money and shops and cafes and restaurants where I can get what I like. I eat a big meal, and then I'm full an it's great. But then, what would normally have filled me for hours, leaves me with this ravenous, gnawing hunger within one - two hours.

Last night I had TWO massive cheesy dough things that are so yummy. I ate both of them with ease. I was so proud. Hunger's good if you can satisfy it. I hate to think how it would be if I coudn't.

http://kateharding.net/2009/04/14/whos-laughing-now/

I'm going to write a real post, but I'm sugaring right now. It's agony and I want to stop, but I've done one arm, and I can't stop nw or I'll look ridiculous in short sleeves.

- Get a job and pay off my credit card bills
- Read magazines
- Eat sweetie letters
- Shop in Asda, M&S
- Swim in the sea
- Go for long seaside walks

I wait underneath the covers all night beside you
And who could ever question any crying I do?
My heavy heart is beating out a rhythm all night inside me
And I fall a little harder everytime that I do

Watch me living it up
You've totally got me stuck in a rut
You're made for me
How am I gonna step up
And say to you "I got the feeling, boy, I want you, want you"

The conversation is tough
Because I'm totally walking round all the stuff
You wanna say to me
Words are never enough
Oh baby baby, you turn dust to gold

I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking talking now
Oh, I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking
I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking talking now

Oh, I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking

I've got to let you know
I want to give into my temptation
And let my feelings show
I've got to let you know

I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking talking now
Oh, I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking
I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking talking now
Oh, I can't speak French so I let the funky music do the talking

Husband made spicy pumpkin stew. It's so good. I've never eaten pumpkin before.

Right now my life revolves around essential duties (work) and how to get back to bed/the sofa as soon as possible.

I was just out on the balcony for a minute and my mouth is full of dust. I love the hazy night time dust storms, the air just fills with dust, no wind, no sound.

venus is hanging low,
in the middle of the sky
next to where the trees part
and bend back and forth

the position of certain fronds indicate the weather
their quiet fanfare
as the night slides across

the curtain rising, or coming down
divining, telling
north, to south, to north

then there's the moon
bereft, half an oyster shell
listing west to south

until the curve of its back
presses against the night floor

venus is hanging
and we tell fortunes according to the way it spins
pi times the radius squared
we chant
round and round
round and round

https://www.donate.bt.com/bt_form_gaza.html

Moonlight, not streetlight
I can see my destination from here
Brightly lit relief, distant,
colours blurred and indistinct

Lamplight pouring from rooms,
windows open miles above

Light breezes of laughter, radios playing music, then static
Then quiet. Dripping into the street, the rise and fall
Or urgent words, whispers. A gentle thud.

Security lights gushing from behind bars
Pooling in the dirt track, Streaming through cracks in the earth
demarcating the night

Away from the bright, the darkness breathes in.
Gloomy colours, heavy blooms and scents
Take shape, rise. Shadows pulse, and move.

Starlight that's cold and out of reach
Broken stones underfoot
The lazy hum and heat of machinery

something in the dark
the waiting silence.

turn, retrace your steps.
search for what you lost.

One week into he new year, I can't decide on my new year's resolutions. Please suggest some that would help make me a better person.

You can comment anonymously if you like x

I woke up in the night very ill. I had to call in sick to work. I feel a bit better now, I'm watching TV and doing laundry. I feel bad for various reasons, but I know I shouldn't.

http://safewayonsunday.wordpress.com/2008/06/11/the-foreigner-voice/

I find this simultaneously one of the most hilarious, and most obnoxious things I've ever read.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7740652.stm