He could not ope
His mouth, but out flew a Trope:
And when he happend to break off
In the middle of his speech, or cough,
He had hard words ready, to shew why,
And tell what rules he did it by.

(Hudibras, Book I, Canto I)

It has been a very eventful week. It ended with a friends birthday dinner which I didn’t really want to go to. I was tired and while I would have known lots of people there, I wasn’t really good friends with any of them. Good reasons not to go in my opinion. I went. I made myself, I knew that I would be perfectly happy to stay home, but that I would also be perfectly happy going out when I eventually got there. So I dressed up a little. I love getting ready. The hairdryer, the radio, picking the clothes. Is it ok, to much, to dressy, to casual. Love it. Perfect outfit, not so perfect straightened hair and I was ready. I was early and so was a lovely lady who I would prefer not to spend to much time with at all. Even with a large group of friends to buffer her. She’s lovely and loves to talk, mostly about herself. We’ll leave it at that I think. So everyone arrived and it was lovely and they all had a good time. I’m afraid I don’t really like social gatherings like that. Not very much makes me uncomfortable so I was fine in that regard, but it was just a little boring. Kinda mundane conversations about boys and sex and football. I couldn’t really care less. I ate and had a drink (bleh, red wine is still horrible even though I’m 25 now and should have ‘developed’ tastebuds) and sat by myself being talked at by a drunk homosexual with boyfriend issues and a receding hair line (I also just don’t understand how you can have boyfriend issues with someone you have dated twice and not had sex with, though I guess it’s not the sex so much as the fact they only met twice!!). I ate my thai and watched video clips and looked at hot American boys who all lined up in front of me to watch the football on the big screen behind me. Then I went home and decided that despite how much I might like and respect someone whose birthday it is, I won’t be going to a gathering to socialise any time soon. I guess I’ll still be going to gatherings though, ‘do unto others’, and I’d hate to have a dinner and no one show up.

On the subject of friends and the things you may or may not be willing to put up with from them (or for them), I’ll add that some friends are just wonderful. Thoughtfulness is less common in today’s society, or so I observe. When someone is thoughtful, depending on who they are, most people are very surprised and delighted. Makes me wonder why more people aren’t thoughtful, but also shows that we just don’t expect it anymore. Not that it would be socially acceptable to ‘expect’ someone to be thoughtful towards you, but you understand what I mean (and if you don’t, to bad). I am going through a phase of ‘nicety’. I was talking to a friend (the one who had the birthday incidentally) and she mentioned her partner. She couldn’t tell me what she liked about him. It made me think of what people do to make people like them, or love them even. What had he done to make her love him. What did she do to make him love her. Perhaps it’s just who she/he is, but surely there was something that someone in the relationship had done in the past for the other to be able to say, ‘I love you (for that)”. Seemed there wasn’t, or not that she could recall. When pressed, how many people would be able to say what they loved about their partner? I am off track, back to my friend. My friend, who I haven’t known for a very long time, sent me some videos. He knows that I am doing Writing at uni, and he works for a broadcasting company. He found some videos about ‘Writers Writing’ and mailed them to me. His thoughtfulness goes further then that though. He only had some of the videos and had to order the others remade so he could mail me the whole set. Now issues of honesty aside, this was a lovely and thoughtful gesture. Any type of association with an activity you would do that is realised by a friend and linked with something that they have, to the point of them sending it to you is, seriously, uncommon. It’s wonderful. It leaves you with a warm (I won’t complete the cliché cause I didn’t really feel fuzzy) and considered feeling. Again I repeat, why don’t more people do such things? Why don’t you? Why don’t I? I admit to rarely noticing moments when I can be thoughtful towards someone, but after this week especially, I am actively on the look out for them.

Along with gestures of sweeping consideration from friends and self realisations about my feelings at social events, I learnt a lot about rhetoric this week. ‘Protagoras and the Origins of Rhetoric’ (by Michael Billig) was one of my readings and it was actually pretty good. Most heavy duty reading is a bit of a slog, but this was well constructed and very easy to read and understand. It was also good to read because it fit in nicely with a good example of writing for my professional writing subject. I’m fast learning what is and what isn’t good reading. Hopefully I will be able to learn how to write good writing.

It's raining and my shoes leak.

What do you do when you have a bad day? What consititues a bad day? I've had a few bad days this week. Things that no one would want to happen to them, has happened to me. I complained about it. Then I found out that someones father had died. He was 92, but he died. So my day wasn't as bad as that, and I didn't complain about it again. Well today was worse then that day. That day I wanted to cry. I didn't want to cry but I did want to curl up and go to sleep with my gran looking after me. Last time I wanted that, I had had an operation. It was a bad day. No one died though and I guess that makes all the difference.

When you want to complain, think how you would feel if your loved one died. Then you probably won't complain.

Our uni has what is called a 'blackboard' site for interactions with the lecturers, tutors and students. On my poetics site we are provided with a poem a day. Makes me wonder how much time some lecturers have. This is todays poem. I never realised that a poem could make you become the 'character' in the poem. Kinda like in a novel. I was impressed.

The Hand
The teacher asks a question.
You know the answer, you suspect
you are the only one in the classroom
who knows the answer, because the person
in question is yourself, and on that
you are the greatest living authority,
but you don’t raise your hand.
You raise the top of your desk
and take out an apple.
You look out the window.
You don’t raise your hand and there is
some essential beauty in your fingers,
which aren’t even drumming, but lie
flat and peaceful.
The teacher repeats the question.
Outside the window, on an overhanging branch,
a robin is ruffling its feathers
and spring is in the air.


by Mary Ruefle from Cold Pluto, 1996, 2001
Carnegie Mellon University Press

I'm really organised today. It's my day off and so I have pleanty of time to do my uni readings, a servey that goes towards my mark, and an excersise that is due next week. Only problem is, no one else seems to be organised and nothing I have to do is available. Lectures must be commended, they are really up to date with the availability of materials on the uni site. Except today when I am too.Bloody cruel world.

It seems that the first lesson I will have in Poetics will cover Blues Poems. It is ‘one of the most popular forms of American poetry…stem(ing) from the African-American oral tradition and the musical tradition of the blues“ (Bronwyn Lea). I’ve never heard of it. Suffice to say it’s like the music. Some of it’s good, some of it’s boring.

Blues poetry covers struggles, despairs, depressions, resilience’s and hardships. Writers include Sterling A. Brown, James Weldon Johnson, and Langston Hughes. Kevin Young is a contemporary writer who has compiled a collection of poems entitled ‘Blues Poems’. Strangely enough.


Here is a poem I enjoyed.

 ‘The Weary Blues’ by Langston Hughes

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
     I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
     He did a lazy sway . . .
     He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
     O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
     Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man’s soul.
     O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—

     ‘Ain’t got nobody in all this world,
       Ain’t got nobody but ma self.
       I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’
       And put ma troubles on the shelf.’

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more--

     ‘I got the Weary Blues
       And I can’t be satisfied.
       Got the Weary Blues
       And can’t be satisfied—
       I ain’t happy no mo’
       And I wish that I had died.’

And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.


(Btw, the main aim of this was to learn how to hyperlink, done)

I like tea. That's all you really need to know about me. If you like tea, you'll understand. I love the ritual of making it, I love the smell, the variety, the taste, the warmth, the sugar, the colour. Everything. I also like dessert (in fact, I'm having strawberries with sour cream and brown sugar right now), but I don't like sweets.

I like the rain. I love books. I like colours and clothes, glass, marble tiles, roses, furniture, summer, soil, dogs, sitting on the floor, fragrance, skin, tarten, sleeping, lamp shades and picture frames.

I like wool, cotton, fur, fish skin, calf leather, crocodile leather (did you know that real croc leather - apart from being rare - is kinda like a tree. When you cut a tree down there are rings around the base in the trunk, similar with croc skin. Each 'bump' of the skin actually has small rings running around it like the tree has), brushed metal, suede, paper, marble, and ceramics. I love textures. Texture means I also don't like some things, mainly foods. I don't like chicken or carrots because of the way the feel lol.

I don't like water. I don't like being wet. I don't like the beach much, though it can be fun. I don't like running, and I don't like people not washing their hair. I don't like smoke, cigerettes, or people smoking. I don't really like alchol and I really really don't like drugs.

I like simplicity. It's attractive and easy and obvious.

Well, this is my first blog. I don't know what a blog is, but over time I'm sure I will understand along with many many other things. I am doing this for 2 reasons. I am a student of writing, and so I wish for a medium in which I am able to write, edit, persuse and review not only my work but others work too. I also aim to gain a better understanding of web design and all things IT. To be honest, I'm computer illiterate. The things drive me mad. My lecturer said yesterday that she's not very good at technologies probably because she's a poet. Exactly like me, except for the poet part.

My friend is my insperation for this. I only found out about this site of his last night. I really liked it so I moved fast to replicate the idea if not the layout. That'll be part of the learning process. Stay tuned for something similar. (You might have to stay tuned for months, but don't give up hope). I'll be using his site as a greater source of inspiration then anywhere else, at least for the begining. What to write, what to link, what depth of detail and when to post, will all be based on an indication I get from him. (Troy don't change what you would do normally, it'll fuck the whole thing up for me).
His site is http://troykelly.com

As I am a student learning to write, I will include my writings when I can. I am studying poetry so you can all have a good laugh at my expense. I'm also doing communication and rhetoric ("with heavy emphesis on the rhetoric" - Dr Joan Leach), and professional writing. It is mainly for this last subject that I am doing the blog (well...mainly general intrest on my part, but as subjects go it's for professional writing). It was made rather clear to us that we will be an attractive employee if we have writing skills along with good computer skills. Hopefully the subject will look after the first one and I can sufficently look after the second.

Some last notes regarding my studies. As I learn I will need feedback. Good, bad, constructive, alternative or suggestive, I want to hear it. Please comment. I will also always endevour to produce correct writings. This means that I will attempt to have correct punctuation, spelling, layout, presentation, etc. Add your thoughts or my mistakes in these areas to the comments you make. I'll try and maintain a relaxed and conversational voice to my writings though it may change depending on the post. It should never change during a post. As I develop my own writings the subject matter and accuracy of my writing will (hopefully) change and develop into something more suited to a professional writer, if not in a professionlly written medium.

I hope you enjoy my blogs.