lizzie writes to you, then tries to make small talk...

"SECRET"

Quickly, you tore out a piece of paper from the back of your biology textbook,
You scribbled something, folded it in half, and labeled it, "secret".
And you looked at me with a question mark, and offered it in the palm of your hand.
Hesitantly, I clicked awake my biro, and I did the same,
Writing down all of my thoughts and all of the happenings in one nine letter word.
We swapped, quick and fast,
I flicked my eyes away from your judgement, and unfolded slowly a joke.
And I watched your eyes as you opened up my message, confusion twisting your expression, suddenly, and you looked at me,
like you were sorry.

____________________________________________________________________________

I'm writing a lot of things recently I feel sort of "eh" about. And then they end up here. Are Productivity Fridays going to be a thing? I won't say I'll stick to it, it'll only curse things.

I watched The Social Network tonight and I liked it a lot but I was disappointed, through no fault of the movie, I'd just waited a long time and my hopes were ridiculously high.
I was planning on saying something about The Social Network which was more intelligent or made more sense than that. I'm tired. Meh.

So I'm off school for a week now, except it should mostly be full of revision I can't motivate myself to do. This weekend I'm going camping with my friends for the bank holiday, so that's exciting.
Why does today feel like "you" and I are stood awkwardly trying to think of things to say to each other?

Anyway, I'll be home on Wednesday and I'll talk to you then.

- Lizzie

Lost at Home

Today about two hours after I got home from school I felt like I just needed to not be at home for a while, so I took my bike and my iPod, because I still haven't listened to all of the songs "Sigh No More" straight through, and I left even though it was cold.

And I mostly knew where I was going. I live in a fairly small town, and there's this place I sort of wanted to just go and sit and be for a while, but it's an area that's a distance away I'd never really been there in a way that wasn't by car. But recently I realised the link between the town centre and this place, and it wasn't like I was going to get lost.

So I started to cycle down one, straight road for about 10 minutes before I realised this wasn't the way and I'd taken a wrong turn when I looked around and thought about how I hadn't been here before. And suddenly I felt more scared and shaken than I have done in a long time - not because of the area; it was seemingly nice housing estate in broad daylight, there were people walking their golden labradors and things - but because this could've been anywhere, if you'd shown me a picture of this scene I couldn't recognise it as the town I grew up in.

I felt weirdly betrayed. I grew up here, I've lived in the same house for over half of my life, and it's so small and such a tight community that there shouldn't be bits of it I don't recognise or haven't seen. This town is where I sleep and eat and go to school and my friends live. It's sometimes a place I don't leave for weeks. How can it have all of me, when I don't know it anywhere as near as well as I thought?
I found what I was looking for, in the end, but I still feel weird about it. Maybe I need to go exploring.

"Hair"

“HAIR”

It’s late and I’m lying in bed, trying to imagine a time when I’m in more pain than this.
I imagine you, running me a bath, the perfect temperature. You lower my wasted body carefully into the water, and I feel a slight sting as I make sudden contact with the heat. With one hand you raise the showerhead, whilst you rub shampoo and soap into my scalp, my skin, between my fingers; I’m too tired not to let you. Once it’s dry, curiously, you plait my hair, weaving all of my dead ends in and out of each other, like cloth.

________________________________________________________________

I found The Drabble Challenge today - to write something about a given theme, within a five word range of 100 words. But despite how much the idea of it inspired me, this is the best I could squeeze out, it's also vaguely based on a scene in Skins. I was sort of hesitant to put it here, of all places. But I never post writing here and I probably should, and I won't want to do this in the morning.
K... enjoy, I think.

Some Stuff I Dug Up From The Very Bottom of my Bedside Drawer

Have you ever gone through a drawer of old things? I did that today. I blushed at reading my younger self's writing, laughed at photos, smiled at letters from friends and generally just made fun of my past self.
And then I posted some Best-Of's to blogger, because of how sadly comitted I am.

1. A letter my mother sent to me when I was at Brownie Camp, aged eight. The writing paper has a picture of a dolphin on it.
"Dear Lizzie,
Hi, I hope you don't mind that I've used your writing paper but I wanted to get a letter in the post and I haven't got any of my own.
I hope you had a good journey and didn't sing about too many camels humps. Poor Alice must have got very tired carrying all those humps about. Imagine you trying to carry 300 rucksacks on your back. Better give her a rest on the way home and sing something else.
I've been talking to Sophie Hudson on MSN! (PTO) Not on purpose. I was on the computer when she popped up trying to talk to you. So I replied saying you were out and she said thanks and bye but didn't give me any emotions like she did when she was trying to talk to you.
Have a fun time and get lots of sleep.
Lots of love, hugs and kisses."

2. A list of bullet points which I don't remember writing at all, judging from my handwriting and the context it's from a year and a bit ago... weird.
"* Last night, shower arguments
* Getting Scared - Imogen Heap -> Why? Going to be what?
* Unhappy day?
* My hair
* Emily-Marie
* Alison
* Robin
* Between Sheets -> happy, calm, peaceful song
* Science, Geography, Maths, Double English
* Knickers
* 1920s German silent movie
* Leoni getting Facebook, seeing her next Tuesday, whether to speak English or German? Wishing we were closer.
* Things to tell friends when get to school.
* V Festival, will it even happen?
* Going to have to take something for breakfast there.
* Walking to school, iPod potentially broken.
* Cameron will read it
* The letter I wrote last night.
* Mr Downing
* writing has slowed down
* My dream, Body Shop themed theme park, there with Dobbin. "There's swimming at 2 o clock". "

3. A Diary Entry by Lizzie, aged 12.
"Saturday November 1st
17:58:
So bored. The Halloween party was so great though! Afterwards my two best friends, Kathryn and Madison slept over. I've known them the year we've been in high school but they've known each other from primary school. Kathryn's clumsy, accident-prone and loves ducks. Madi's forgetful, American, extremely blonde and is one of the most un-selfish people I know.
Madison left this morning, Kathryn about an hour ago. So yeah. I'm bored.
18:06:
Still bored. 24 minutes until The X Factor though!!!!"

4. "The Scarlet Diaries" - a slightly stalkerish spy-journal my friend wrote about a teacher we had in Year 7, and kept at my house.
"8.2.08 DAY ONE
8:30 First sighting of Scarlet in the staff room talking to Mr Morris & Shapes with a cup of tea in hand. About 15 minutes later I was stood at the top of the stairs. She comes up the stairs with Ms Iddenden & Ms Malkin wearing a black dress, red cardi, white shirt, tights and a pair of strappy black heels.
After registration" (it ends here)

5. A postcard my friend sent me in the summer of 2008.




6. A list made in 11 year old handwriting of names I'd wanted to name my children, for some reason all of who are female and several must be hippies, or elephants from Sunday night ITV dramas.
"Phoebe
Mae
Rainbow
Tula
Taurus
Sapphire
Grace
Melanie
Scarlett
Gemini
Ruby
Lila"

7. This picture of my mother, my friend and me, 8 or 9 years old, winning a fig pie rolling race. I was number 42!


8. A pretty self-absorbed letter I wrote one night, for myself to open in the morning. This is probably the most recent of things.
It's a Monday morning and I think you'll need a letter today.
How can I convince you to get out of bed today? WWID? "Be who you are, keep doing what you do..." but it's hard to put into practise.
I've done no homework so check your organiser. Call Merben music, or just go there. It'd be fun, even if Poppy's right and you/I/we only want to go for silly reasons. Also research the protests, change your Facebook display picture from Flounder, maybe do a blog and given the oppurtunity, talk.* You won't regret it! Have a nice day :)
Past Lizzie
*I want you to know that has more meaning - I wasn't just telling myself to talk!

9. A letter my best friend wrote me after my German exchange sister left, full of bad spellings and love.
"Dear Lizzie,
If you are reading this you are probably sad about Leoni. Please relise that she is safe and you will see her soon. If that doesn't work, this of all the good times you had with her. And if that doesn't you can think about Imogen Heap and how happy you were at the concert. Remember this note should bring you joy and happyness. See you tomorrow!
From Poppy
Love you in a non lesbian way!"

10. The first chapter of a book called "The Spook's Apprentice" I never read, which a boy gave me in Year 8.
Just the first chapter :s

Disclaimer:I don't know why I thought this would be interesting to anyone and I'm sorry.

I was going to do it... but there's a webcast on...

In terms of the last twelve months or so, I don't really think I've changed as a person that much, at least definitely not compared to previous spans of time in my life, going through phases of being obsessed completley with a book or a film for short periods as a kid.

By "changed" I think I mostly mean the things which are important to me. The things I read, the music I listen to, my favourite TV shows - basically the things I do with my time - they're pretty much the same as they were in May of last year.
But I only really considered it now. One of the things that has slowly crept up and ended up important to me is webcasts.

For those unfamiliar, a webcast (or the kind I usually watch) is usually when an artist or band streams something live on the internet for an hour or two, where they'll probably play some songs and talk with fans, who send comments on a chatbox, or tweet, or call in. Usually it's because it's an album release or to raise money for charity, something is being announced. And they're brilliant because although they're no substitute for a real concert, you're sat at home, interacting with both an artist you love and some other people, who maybe you'll still talk with in months to come, on Twitter, on Facebook, somewhere else. It's the weirdest kind of intimacy.

And they never seem like it at the time but I've done some really stupid things to watch things live on the internet in the last few months. Live4Pakistan was some time last summer, an event organised by Imogen Heap and Thomas Ermacora raising money for the Pakistan floods, and my best friend and her sisters and I spent an entire afternoon sat on the couch listening to Josh Groban and Kaki King and Kate Havnevik, and then after I went home I tuned back in, and sitting alone at my desk singing along when Amanda Palmer played "Creep" is still a really clear memory I have.

There've been times I've set my alarm at four AM on a Thursday for things, or put off doing an essay until late because Kina Grannis is announcing tour dates, once I was waiting for an Amanda Palmer and Jason Webley show broadcast from somewhere until I was nearly twenty minutes late for school and I had to run.

And it's funny, because I hadn't even acknowledged the things I'm willing to give up for these things up until just now. My mum offered to practise my German speaking test with me, which I'm really in no place to pass up on at the moment, and I told her just now I'll do it on my own later instead, but thank you.
"Why?" she said.
"Oh... well, Charlie Fink is doing a web-chat at 7, that's when we were going to do it."
"Is that a thing on the internet?"
"Yes..."
And I understand how stupid it sounds, to her and also to me. I understand how much of a nerd I am. But these things are my favourite sort of escapism, and there's not a lot I would miss this for.

So last week, on Wednesday, I went to see a band called Noah and the Whale.
It very nearly didn't happen - I was going to go with some friends from my Guides but it got quite short notice, then I was going to go with someone else who couldn't travel, and then on Sunday when I was talking to myself about how a different show near to us had sold out, my dad offered to go with me, which he does occasionally - he has the live music thing that I do too, but I think he's either learnt to control it or it isn't as important to him. See now I'm being judgemental.

My very first memory of Noah and the Whale music must have been in 2007 - that summer, I was eleven and on the way home from shopping with my mum and my friend when their song "Five Years Time" came on the radio. And I liked it because it made me happy - sometimes music could be that simple then, and I suppose it still can.

I don't remember thinking about their music much, except for singing "And it was fun, fun, fun..." in my head from time to time, up until last year, when because of a friend I listened to "Give A Little Love" and loved it, because of the way the chorus repeated itself in my head and how adaptable it's lyrics were.
And then, at a time that was just right for me personally, I came across "Blue Skies" ... the night I heard it for the first time, it was exactly what I needed.
Their most recent singles have been "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N" and "Tonight's The Kind of Night", and I love both of them despite the new album, "Last Night On Earth" being so different... not better or worse, just different. I'd say there's a greater variety of instruments, it's also much more cheerful.

On Wednesday night we drove down to their show in Leeds. I had my GCSE French speaking exam the next day and went anyway, because I'm really responsible with my priorities, so I ended up having to revise the whole way. We were almost late for the show.

I won't talk about the support act just now.

The venue was a student union, so I was squished in with a lot of university students in their twenties, all of who I was weirdly taller than. And I love places like that... the way your legs ache from standing and you stop noticing after a while, your shoes are sticky with bear, you're sweating and it's dark and everyone around you feels what you do.

As the band were coming on, a melody called "Paraside Stars" was playing - I didn't know what it was at the time, I only bought "Last Night On Earth" this weekend - but I swear I felt it all of the way through my body, and that's why I love intimate venues.

They played "Give A Little Love" first and in the first few moments of it my thoughts sort of went...
guitarist, keyboard, drummer, violin
HAHA THEIR HAIR IS ALL AWESOME
woah they're playing this song that's so weird i thought it'd be i i i don't know omigod it's all beautifuuuuuulll
woah charlie fink is different in real life
his voice...

The second song I didn't know (I wish I'd bought "Last Night On Earth" before and not just known two songs from it!) but after that they played "Blue Skies".
And I remember these two guys close to me were drunk, singing loudly and dancing together, and usually it would've annoyed the hell out of me but for some silly reason it didn't.
Some audiences make me ashamed to be a part of - because they're too loud or rude, or too quiet and uninviting, but this was just right. It was the most responsive audience I've been a part of - the people around me were singing along with every line of every single song, and I just felt proud.

After this I'm forgetting the order, but I remember some time during the middle they played a song I didn't know called "Wild Thing", but was singing along with quickly as if I did, and it's funny because by now after hearing it more times my conception as to what the lyrics are about is nothing to do with what I thought then...

They played what Charlie called "the quiet romantic part of the set" - the slower songs, like "My Door Is Always Open" in one section of about three or four, and I thought that was an odd way to do things but I liked it.

He then announced, somewhat sarcastically, "Now this is the high energy dance party section of the show." And then opened this with "Roll Away Your Stone", which I was dancing to, and so was everyone around me. This is one of my favourites, and I missed Laura Marling's harmony less than I thought I would, mainly because the audience sang it too.

The only form of live performance I'd seen from them was just Charlie Fink and Laura Marling doing an acoustic set in the back of a cab - I'm tired, but look it up on Youtube - and it was so strange to me that then he seemed more nervous and reserved than in front of an entire crowd. He was probably one of the most charismatic performers I've seen - he would point with his finger whilst singing, as if addressing each of us personally, and constantly throw and catch the mic stand.
And the whole band were so vibrant and together and just excited to be playing, which is always a bonus. Every song they were perfectly in time with one another. It was just so lovely to see how much they looked like they were enjoying it.

"Five Years Time" was instantly recognisable and everyone did that thing when they realise and then cheer. It was one of my favourite moments of the entire show, because everyone in the room was singing along and halfway through "Urby" - the keyboard/ guitarist - was whilstling the refrain and I don't know why but it made me smile.

I love the gradual pace and rise in "Tonight's The Kind Of Night" and the live performance was perfect. They played after that a song called "First Day of Spring" I hadn't heard, because I only have the first album, but it was beautiful. That one was their "last song" and after that they came back on and played "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N" as an encore, and the only footage I have is a 16 second crappy phone clip of the whole audience singing along, calling out "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N!" like it was all they believed in.
You can see that one here.

I sort of wanted to wait outside afterwards but didn't, because I had an exam the next day. I honestly think it went okay butif I failed, there's an oppurtunity to retake it in two weeks and I won't regret spending that night away from it all even a tiny bit.

when lizzie doesn't know what to write, she googles "thought provoking questions" and things like this occur...

Do you remember that time five years ago you were really upset? Does it matter now?

At my primary school, we had this very, very open and politically correct headmistress and this was probably a good thing most of the time. We celebrated Diwali and had to fill out sheets with an anonymous compliment for each of our classmates each year. Anti-bullying policies were jammed at us constantly, and there were motivational, positive posters everywhere with things on them like pictures of a black child and a white, hand in hand, and I'm not sure if it was lovely or maybe just a little too enforced.
There was this one poster, in the girls bathroom - and when I say poster, I mean a laminated piece of A4 - and on it it said "If it won't matter in five years, it doesn't matter now". It was a quote from Cher.

I honestly think being in Year Five (that's aged nine and ten here) was one of the toughest years of my life, because in the earlier September of that year, my best friend left the school. It's really hard to explain why this upset me much more than it should have, but you could say that I was always one of those children who liked to have one, single best friend, maybe within a few others. She and I were inseparable. We'd have these slumber parties and the whole week before those Saturdays, at school we'd write out these plans of what we were going to do every half hour. At break time we strolled around the edges of the playing field and did impressions of all of the other girls in our class, who talked about their "boyfriends" and made up sexy dances and lay on the disused football pitch with their polo shirts rolled up and tied in a knot.

But because of how close we were, there was never really room for anyone else and so when she left I was at a complete loss of what to do, who to talk to, because for two years I hadn't needed to make more friends than the one I had already.
The class I was in was an absolute wreck - there were three or four misbehavioural boys who I think probably all had ADHD or something, (one of who I think moved to Australia after he was expelled) and girls who wanted to grow up much too fast. Everyone was loud and obnoxious, and by now I had pretty much no self confidence at all. Our teacher was new, and he was male, which was a first for our school, only two years old. But he was very, very nervous, and left a while after a boy shouted at him. We went through three teachers that year, and the third left at the end of it.

I was permanently upset. One time about a year ago I realised how bad it must have been when my mother told me the things they'd said to her that parents evening. I can't imagine how big an impact something that simple could have on me. Apparently I stopped raising my hand in class, nearly became mute and lost a lot of weight. At breaktimes I would sit on my own and read, or write stories in a leather-bound notebook I still have in my drawer and smile at sometimes. I was picked on and laughed at, and for why I understand completley, but the lower my self-confidence got the worst it became. The boy I had to sit next to in lessons was the worst of all - the other boys idolised him because he was cocky and wore hair gel and swore that, in the bathroom of the public swimming pool, his fourteen year old girlfriend had given him a blowjob. (I'm fairly sure I didn't believe it at the time, and I know I don't now). We'd done a spelling test (remember spelling tests?) and everyone who got ten out of ten was told to stand up, to be given a sticker or something. It was his job to write down all of the names of those of us who got that score. I think there were probably about eight. And he moved slowly around the class, calling out the name of each child, one at a time, and writing them down. He was smirking and doing it very, very slowly and I realised early on what he was doing. As it became that there were less and less of us stood up, I started to feel a lump in my chest rise (you also need to know that back then I cried ALL of the time). And then in a moment tears started trickling down my face and I could hear myself from inside my head making tiny noises. And it went quite quickly from some people in the class asking if I was okay to everyone of them laughing and taunting me, the teacher ignorant and embarassed and awkward, staring down at his desk.
They thought it was for no reason, but the boy next to me didn't. He knew exactly what he'd done and he seemed to feel nothing. He carried on the torture, leaving me until the very end.
The teacher never knew what to do about things like this so he took me to the headmistress' office, where she offered me water and gave me a big box of Kleenex and played Zen music. I was a regular visitor there, now I think back it was probably a sort of therapy they arranged for me. She asked me what was wrong but I couldn't explain what he'd done in the right way - it was a link in a chain of mini incidents like that, and they seem silly now and I can't remember what it was like but I know he was doing it on purpose.

I know how ridiculous it sounds. I feel guilty that it's easy for me to laugh at now, because of what it did to me then but that always seems like a different version of myself.
And the point is that of course it still matters now, the in five years.... Because in some ways I think maybe all of that changed me as a person for the better, because if that situation happened in school now I'd probably either not notice or just have a bit of a bitch and a moan about it in my head. But a lot of it's to do with the people I'm surrounded by - although people this age are still immature, I think ten year old boys are much more powerful than we think.
I don't know if it changed me as a person. More stuff did, more recently, but in the years after that it forced me to develop social skills and I became much less co-dependant. It was even the time I started to turn to the internet. And there's things which happen to me nowadays - even things which have happened in the last month which I know I'll remember when I'm twenty. (woah, I'm halfway to twenty from all of that. I'm getting old :/ )

I don't really know why I wrote that. It got me away from French revision. Beth asked for a post. Myeh.

Lizzie xx