The Phoenix Diaries

That Review Your year meme

2008-01-09T19:56:27Z

Most of this meme concentrates on Lisbon, cos I really don't recall much of my life before September. This'd worry me, except memory blanks aren't a particularly rare occurance with me.
.

--What did you do in 2006 that you'd never done before?
Well, lots of stuff. Um, played on a beach at midnight.

--Did anyone close to you give birth?
Um, well my niece did, but as it was stillborn twasn't much of a cause for celebration

--Did anyone close to you die?
Nope.

--What countries did you visit?
Portugal. Romania, Germany (briefly), Spain, and of course, the UK.

--What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
I can't think of anything that I didn't really have, apart from conviction and self-belief.

--What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I moved abroad, and survived.

--What was your biggest failure?
I didn't make as many proper friends at uni as I could've.

--What was the best thing you bought?
Um... coat? Boots?

--Whose behavior merited celebration?
Too many people. Especially my family

--Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Nobody's

--Where did most of your money go?
Eating out, drinking and taxis, I guess. Worth it, though

--What did you get really, really, really excited about?
So many things.

--What song will always remind you of 2006?
Hey There Delilah. Not sure why

--Compared to this time last year, are you:
-Happier or sadder? happier than this time last year
-Thinner or fatter? Fatter at the mo
-Richer or poorer? Poorer

--What do you wish you'd done more of?
Partying (hey, I'm Erasmus), sightseeing, that sorta thing. And thinking about it, I was quite a crap daughter/sister/aunt. Really should've seen my family more.

--What do you wish you'd done less of?
no idea

--How will you be spending/did you spend Christmas?
Spent it in a gorgeous hotel by the sea (was in a bit of a funny mood though... xmas eve and boxing day were fantastic).

--Did you fall in love in 2006?
Love or lust that then solidified into something that could be taken for a sort of love.

--How many one-night stands?
Same answer as last year- what do you take me for? none

--What were your favorite TV programs?
Didn't watch much TV. Desperate housewives, I guess.

--Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Same answer as last year-I rarely hate anyone

--What was the best book you read?
If On a Winter's Night a Traveller, I think. Ooh, or Red Seas Under Red Skies. NOT The Modern World

--What was your greatest musical discovery?
Elliott Smith. My god his stuff's fantastic.

--What did you want and get?
A lot of things. Happiness, of sorts.

--What did you want and not get?
I'm struggling to think of anything. Contentment makes for a boring review.

--What were your favorite films of this year?
At World's End. That was 2007, right?

--What did you do on your birthday?
Again, i haven't got the faintest idea.

--How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
Calf length skirt and smartish top. Jesus, I'm not even 40 yet.

--What kept you sane?
Friends and family.

--Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Every time I see an Antonio Banderas film I feel all wibbly...

--What political issue stirred you the most?
I know there was another, but all that stands out is my noticable lack of concern about ID cards. I think they'll be quite a good idea.

--Who did you miss?
i still don't really miss people that much.

--Who was the best new person you met?
Duty bound to say Chris, though Scott's coming a close second, and Carolina and Tanitsara are hovering closely behind.

--Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006:
1- I'm not so different from everyone else- we all want the same kind of things. Everyone just wants to have some fun.
2- Just try it. If it goes wrong, at least you'll know you tried.
3- There's a whole world still waiting for me.

I hate the world

2007-12-18T18:20:39Z

I don't bloody believe it.
I have 1- count them, 1- bra that actually fits properly. I used to have 2, before my mother put one in the hot wash and deformed it.
I've spent ages bra-shopping in Portugal, only to be told that nowhere in Portugal is going to stock my size.

So, pretty reliant on this 1 bra.

Delicate wash. Ok, no problem, I have a coat that needs to go on delicate wash too. And when you're sharing a washing machine with 9 other people, you get as much as possible done while it's free.

My bra is now blue-grey. No shade that you'd ever find on any clothing or paint range, that shade that only exists when you accidentely dye something in the washing machine. It's not even even. The cups themselves are a camoflague pattern in shades of dirt, grime, industrial grime and residual ink stain. The straps are more of a wash pattern, fading gently and smoothly from almost-white-if-you-squint, through the above mentioned shades, to that semi-electric blue of the clouds before a thunderstorm.

No bra that fit. Only one which fits semi-passably enough to wear, and that one gives me neckache. No hope of buying another lot till I get to England, and I'm sure that my desperation will drive all shops to burn anything that may fit me.

Colour me unimpressed

jantshira @ 2007-12-05T13:13:00

2007-12-05T13:14:52Z

Damn, I only went out to buy a jumper. There's a suitable shop about 5 minutes up the road.

How the hell did I come back 150 Euros lighter, without even having bought a jumper?

jantshira @ 2007-11-20T12:39:00

2007-11-20T12:45:05Z

"You want to learn portuguese, watch City of God", my franco-brazillian friend says at a party.
"It's about a proper Brazillian slum. It's real, it's how it is."

"Wow, sounds cool. I'd like to visit somewhere like that one day."
He gives me a funny look. "No, you wouldn't."

So I buy City of God from Amazon, and I decide to watch it one rainy morning. It's a good portuguese lesson, but it makes me sadder than any other film I have ever watched. I don't mind that it's violent, or dark, or full of murder, I mind that it's based on a true story and that none of the people in it are actors, just people picked from the slum.
Even the 8 year old kids who, in the film, laugh while they're shooting people.

I know I'm naive, and all the rest of it, but I wish I'd never seen it

memes

2007-11-19T13:51:44Z

1. Take your answer to each question and type it into Google Image Search.
2. Post one of the images from the first page of results.

1. The age you will be on your next birthday:

2. A place to which you'd like to travel:

3. Your favourite place:

4. Your favourite object:

5. Your favourite food:

6. Your favourite animal:

7. Your favourite colour:

8. The town in which you were born:

9. The town in which you live:

10. First name of a past love:

11. Best friend's nickname: Er, she doesn't have a nickname...
12. Your nickname/screen name:

13. Your first name:

14. Your surname:

15. A bad habit of yours:

16. Your first job:

17. Your major in college:

18. Your grandmothers' names:

with thanks to freddiefraggles!

jantshira @ 2007-11-13T09:40:00

2007-11-13T09:42:36Z

One day, I am going to get my head around the idea that the whole world does not always revolve around me.
And I'm going to realise this before my hissy fit, thus saving a lot of time and energy and the need for apologetic backtracking, etc.

jantshira @ 2007-10-21T09:51:00

2007-10-21T08:52:58Z

OMG!

JK Rowling has officially announced that Dumbledore is (was) gay.

No, seriously- http://uk.news.yahoo.com/afp/20071020/ten-entertainment-us-literature-potter-r-c3b52a1_1.html

An Englishman, a Swede and a German walk into a uni...

2007-10-17T19:47:40Z

Life as an Erasmus student in Lisbon is hilarious.
In an English university you enrol, go to lectures, sit an exam. Nothing funny, nothing entertaining.
In Lisbon, every day I hear of some administrative cock up that has me in hysterics.

For example- our Erasmus co-ordinator, who is supposed to organise everything for us, enrol us into courses etc, has a policy of saying 'yes' to everything (and her english is perfect, so that's no excuse).
We tested this a while ago- one of us went into her office and said "so the BFFR course is 6 credits, right?" and she said yes.
They then came outside, and half an hour later I walked in and said "so the BFFR course is 4 credits, right?" and she said yes.
BTW, we all need 30 credits to complete the course. If we don't get 30 credits we fail our year abroad and cannot continue our degrees, so it's kind of important to know. We now know not to trust anything she says.

Also, my friend Anna is Swedish, and is having real problems learning portuguese. She's not sure if she'll pass the portuguese course, and she needs the 4 credits that it gives, so she went to the office and explained, and asked if she could take another course aswell, to make up the credits, and was enrolled into European Comnpany Law and Directives.
She turned up, and sat through a 3 hour course in Spanish.
The lecturer spoke no English, and not very much portuguese. She went to Senhora Useless, who was shocked that the course was not, in fact, in English. Turns out nobody from the university has ever actually spoken to this lecturer, so Anna found a spanish speaker and asked the lecturer what to do.
As far as she can make out, she needn't attend any lessons (which she wouldn't understand anyway). She needn't sit the exam (as she knwos nothing about the subject), instead she can read some cases and comment on them. She doesn't knwo what she's supposed to comment about, but the lecturer pointed out that he wouldn't be able to understand the comments anyway, so it doesn't matter.
And this is one of the core subjects.

For our international law class, our chinese lecturer spent half an hour explaining that we would be tested via an essay on any country's implementation of any international human rights treaty. He then spent the next 22 hours of the course telling us about china, whcih has nothing to do with international law, and which we don't need to know. He's a lovely guy, and it's very interesting so we all turn up, but it's totally pointless.

All this would be really depressing and frustrating, but Catolica is apparantly 'the Oxbridge of Portugal' (I was in a lecture when someone told me this- we had hysterics for the next 10 minutes). A friend of a friend who goes to another Lisbon uni verified this- he turned up on the first day and was told that they had changed all of his classes for no reason. So he turned up for the new classes, and after half an hour someone came into the classroom and explained that the class was cancelled that day, as the elcturer has a drink problem and couldn't make it that morning.
Insert more hysterics here.

We're sure that this is only the situation for Erasmus students, but it really si a joke. Quite a funny one at that. If it weren't for the coffee to which we've all become addicted, it would be terrible, but hey. We can go with the flow.

Never did I imagine that so much fun could legally be had in an education establishment.

jantshira @ 2007-10-14T07:44:00

2007-10-14T06:53:19Z

"I'm 32", says Scott, "and last time I stayed out all night I must've been about 18. Or younger."

So I take him to Lux, and we sit on the roof and talk fir hours, then when they shut the roof we go downstairs and drink more capirinhas and socially analyse/bitch about everybody on the dance floor. It doesn't sound like fun, but it was.
Then, when the last dancefloor closes, we go outside. The sun is up, and Scott keeps saying how he feels like he's 18 again. I've lost the rose that he bought me, but no matter. We go to That Big Food Place by the river, and eat Pao de Deus (sweet pastry roll, with honey and icing sugar) with cheese and ham. Has to be tasted to be believed. It's incredable.

Then I get a taxi home, and the taxi driver speaks no English, so when I converse with him I feel ok, not stupid, because my portuguese is at least better than his english. I get home at 7.30 am, about the time that I got home last night, and not much later than the night before.
I'm not too sleepy, so I post on LJ. Then I plan on having a cigarette, a banana and plenty of water, as I'm out again tonight.
I still miss Chris, though I only really knew him for less than a month. But my life in Lisbon is... I am a totally different person. I like it.

jantshira @ 2007-10-08T08:27:00

2007-10-08T07:37:21Z

How i wish i was in london.

Then i could pelt the striking postmen with rotten eggs, vegetables, and perhaps the odd nail bomb or two.
Their conditions aren't that bad- certainly no worse than nurses'- and they are effectively holding the country hostage until they get what they want. It is not peaceful protest, it brings the nation to a complete standstill for 48 hours. We have no alternative service, we're nothing to do with their goddamn pay so why should we (innocent parties here) suffer their displeasure?
And if they do get a payrise (really, you should be paid according to your work, not paid according to how badly you can mess up everyone's schedules while you wander down london with a few pickets and catchy slogans), what's to stop them striking again next week when they decide they have an inaliable right to free chocolate biscuits or whatever? Royal Mail cannot actually win, and we the public certainly can't.

Meanwhile i wait in lisbon for those important documents to be posted from home, which have been paid to go first class and which probably won't get here until it's too late. And my sympathy for the postal workers, which could never have been described as ardent, has disappeared entirely.

jantshira @ 2007-10-05T20:05:00

2007-10-05T19:07:03Z

The Associação de Loucos e Sonhadores, aka Association of Madmen and Dreamers, is

The
Best

Bar/club

In
The
World.

But that's just my humble opinion.

A Mid-September Night's Dream. With no faeries.

2007-09-22T11:28:50Z

Had a wonderful night last night. Drank lots fo normalish alcohol, then came home and ate NO CHEESE at all.
Then I went to bed and dreamed that (Ashley? Girl from middle school called Arron?) and I were being chased around a shopping centre by a homicidal, cunning and wry gorilla with magic powers and super-gorilla strength, which for some reason made me think of the giant evil bunny in Donnie Darko.
For this I am going to blame Mat, Jennie, and Cadbury's. Twas a very strange dream.

jantshira @ 2007-09-09T19:45:00

2007-09-09T19:32:23Z

Another update, cos I'm bored and still a bit hungover, and nothing is open on a sunday evening. Again, no rhyme or reason in this- more of a stream of consciousness style thingy.
Hungover- this one began when I went out on Friday night, with the chap who lives in the room next to mine. We went to Bairro Alto (downtown, nightclub district) to 3 fantastic, quiet kind of places. The nightlife here is so different- for a start, not only are you allowed to drink on the streets, you're kind of expected to. Most bars are about the size of your average living room, and totally packed, so general procedure is spend half an hour getting drinks, sit outside on the floor with everyone else, and when ya feel like it, wander off to the next place, taking yr drink with you. Tis cool, very cool, it just feels a bit odd. Oh, and normal time to go out is about midnight, which is about the time I'd start to think about going to bed. Still, much fun was had, and a bunch of roses was purchased for me, and long convoluted discussions about football, philosophy and dogs v cats were embarked upon.
Had the worst hangover the next morning- as in, full on, every time I turned my head I got a headrush so bad that I couldn't see for a while. Standing up and walking weren't pleasant experiences, but as I'd only had about 4 drinks I couldn't really complain too much.
Anyway, Brazillian girl went out on saturday night and invited me along, and it woulda been rude to refuse. Again much fun was had, but by 3 I was knackered and decided to come home. Met some wonderful, totally mad Poles at the taxi rank, one of whom very kindly gave me his trousers because I'd mentioned that I was cold. Er, I didn't wear them, but it's the thought that counts. After the rollercoaster taxi ride home, and the taxi driver asking if he could come up and have a drink with me, I slept for about 4 million hours, which is why I'm knackered today.
I am also debating going to the hospital. I dislocated my toe in Marchish, but when I went to the (stupid stand-in newly qualified) doctor she said ti wasn't dislocated, the strange lump on the side was a callus and the fact that I suddenly lost the ability to move half my foot is strange but nothing to worry about. And it wasn't, not until I came to the City of Cobbled Hills, where if ya can't splay yr feet to grip the cobbles, you might suffer. I'm gonna see if it keeps hurting after tomorrow...
...first day at uni tomorrow. For some reason I'm really nervous about it, much more than I was about coming to Lisbon. They've sent me no information at all, despite all my requests, but luckily I'm too used to Westminster to be surprised by crap universities.
Getting used to the place, I think. Used to the Metro (there're only 4 lines. It's so sweet), used to strange old men and africans ogling and grabbing my arm. I walked past the church today, where all the old men hang out, and one of them tried to talk to me. Another guy, whom I really don't recall ever speaking to, said "She's english, she doesn't understand portuguese". I was very impressed, but felt that I'd've undermined the point by agreeing, so I just looked confused and wandered off.
Loads people think I'm Brazillian. Most people here are Portuguese, African or Brazillian, and as I don't look Portuguese or African (tho I will if i keep tanning), or English, it's the rational conclusion to jump to. I was flattered till I found out that they really hate Brazillians. Last night some Wierd Guy asked one of the guys with us for a cigarette- Braz guy gave him one, and Wierd Guy went to light it and asked, conversationally, 'where are you from?'. Braz Guy said Sao Paulo, and Wierd Guy threw the cigarette on the floor, said he didn't accept cigarettes from Brazillians and wandered off. Braz guy was offended but not all that surprised...
Had a wonderful epiphany style moment a few days ago. Epiphany, but without the epiphany bit, if ya know what I mean. Was wandering round exploring, then realised I was totally lost, quite knackered and had a headache. Decided to keep walking till I found a Metro station or somewhere I knew, and was just starting to get tetchy when I turned a corner and found myself beside the lake. The lake (a gigantic one) curved around the land, so I was kind of surrounded on three sides by a huge expanse of clear blue water, reflected int eh sky so you couldn't automatically tell where one ended and the other began. To my right the 25 April Bridge, on of Lisbon's main landmarks, stretched out over the river, to the other half of Lisbon, which was far enough away to kind of look, in the eveniing, like a mirage on the water. You could make out hills and a few roads, and couldn't really help noticing the 90 foot high statue of Christ against the skyline. Groups of fishermen, professional and amateur, were packing up for the night, a little group of people lit a campfire and were clearly planning on sleeping there... it was so spinny, an oasis of tranquillity about 5 meters from a main road.
Loads more's happened, but I can't be bothered to write much more. I won't put y'all through a blow by blow account. A sexy policeman on a motorbike winked at me, I got massively ripped off by an English Language bookshop, I found a Lidl really nearby and I appear to be smoking 20 a day. Straights.
I've recommenced my Elliott Smith obsession, which must've began around February. Quite a long lasting one, even for me. I found another cockroach, I kissed a beautiful but conceited POrtuguese guy, , I ordered the James Herriott omnibus from Amazon.
Gonna go now, see if guy next door and Brazillian fancy helping me with my wine (one of the more expensive bottles at the supermarket, at around £3). Or, I could waste time on the internet, and listen to more Elliott Smith...

jantshira @ 2007-09-09T19:45:00

2007-09-09T19:28:13Z

Another update, cos I'm bored and still a bit hungover, and nothing is open on a sunday evening. Again, no rhyme or reason in this- more of a stream of consciousness style thingy.
Hungover- this one began when I went out on Friday night, with the chap who lives in the room next to mine. We went to Bairro Alto (downtown, nightclub district) to 3 fantastic, quiet kind of places. The nightlife here is so different- for a start, not only are you allowed to drink on the streets, you're kind of expected to. Most bars are about the size of yoru average living room, and totally packed, so general procedure is spend half an hour getting drinks, sit outside on the floor with everyone else, and when ya feel like it, wander off to the next place, taking yr drink with you. Tis cool, very cool, it just feels a bit odd. Oh, and normal time to go out is about midnight, which is about the time I'd start to think about going to bed. Still, much fun was had, and a bunch of roses was purchased for me, and long convoluted discussions about football, philosophy and dogs v cats were embarked upon.
Had the worst hangover the next morning- as in, full on, every time I turned my head I got a headrush so bad that I couldn't se. Standing up and walking weren't pleasant experiences, but as I'd only had about 4 drinks I couldn't really complain too much.
Anyway, Brazillian girl went out on saturday night and invited me along, and it woulda been rude to refuse. Again much fun was had, but by 3 I was knackered and decided to come home. Met some wonderful, totally mad Poles at the taxi rank, one of whom very kindly gave me his trousers because I'd mentioned that I was cold. Er, I didn't wear them, but it's the thought that counts. After the rollercoaster taxi ride home, and the taxi driver asking if he could come up and have a drink with me, I slept for about 4 million hours, which is why I'm knackered today.
I am also debating going to the hospital. I dislocated my toe in Marchish, but when I went to the (stupid stand in newly qualified) doctor she said ti wasn't dislocated, the strange lump on the side was a callus and the fact that I suddenly lost the ability to move half my foot is strange but nothing to worry about. And it wasn't, not until I came to the City of Cobbled Hills, where if ya can't splay yr feet to grip the cobbles, you might suffer. I'm gonna see if it keeps hurting after tomorrow...
...first day at uni tomorrow. For some reason I'm really nervous about it, much more than I was about coming to Lisbon. They've sent me no information at all, despite all my requests, but luckily I'm too used to Westminster to be surprised by crap universities.
Getting used to the place, I think. Used to the Metro (there're only 4 lines. It's so sweet), used to strange old men and africans ogling and grabbing my arm. I walked past the church today, where all the old men hang out, and one of them tried to talk to me. Another guy, who I really don't recall speaking to, said "She's english, she doesn't understand portuguese". I was very impressed, but felt that I'd've undermined the point by agreeing, so I just looked confused and wandered off.
Loads people think I'm Brazillian. Most people here are Portuguese, African or Brazillian, and as I don't look Portuguese or African (tho I will if i keep tanning), or English, it's the rational conclusion to jump to. I was flattered till I found out that they really hate Brazillians. Last night some guy asked one of the guys with us for a cigarette- Braz guy gave him one, and wierd guy went to light it and asked, conversationally, where he was from. Braz guy said Sao Paulo, and wierd guy threw the cigarette on the floor, said he didn't accept cigarettes from Brazillians and wandered off. Braz guy was offended but not all that surprised...
Had a wonderful epiphany style moment a few days ago. Epiphany, but without the epiphany bit, if ya know what I mean. Was wandering round exploring, then realised I was totally lost, quite knackered and had a headache. Decided to keep walking till I found a Metro station or somewhere I knew, and was just starting to get tetchy when I turned a corner and found myself beside the lake. The lake (a gigantic one) curved around the land, so I was kind of surrounded on three sides by a huge expanse of clear blue water, reflected int eh sky so you couldn't automatically tell where one ended and the other began. To my right the 25 April Bridge, on of Lisbon's main landmarks, stretched out over the river, to the other half of Lisbon, which was far enough away to kind of look, in the evening, like a mirage on the water. You could make out hills and a few roads, and couldn't really help noticing the 90 foot high statue of Christ against the skyline. Groups of fishermen, professional and amateur, were packing up for the night, a little group of people lit a campfire and were clearly planning on sleeping there... it was so spinny, an oasis of tranquillity about 5 meters from a main road.
Loads more's happened, but I can't be bothered to write much more. I won't put y'all through a blow by blow account. A sexy policeman on a motorbike winked at me, I got massively ripped off by an English Language bookshop, I found a Lidl really nearby and I appear to be smoking 20 a day. Straights.
I've recommenced my Elliott Smith obsession, which must've began around February. Quite a long lasting one, even for me. I found another cockroach, I kissed a beautiful but conceited POrtuguese guy, , I ordered the James Herriott omnibus from Amazon.
Gonna go now, see if guy next door and Brazillian fancy helping me with my wine (one of the more expensive bottles at the supermarket, at arounf £3). Or, I could waste time on the internet, and listen to more Elliott Smith...

jantshira @ 2007-09-06T13:26:00

2007-09-06T12:34:08Z

So, I have a headache, I'm really tired, my arms and legs keep twitching, I feel really dizzy and headrushy, like I'm not really here. Shaky clammy hands, slight difficulty breathing. Impossible to eat anything more than an apple... maybe a banana later. Heat exhaustion? Likely due to the fact that it's so damn hot at night.
Not much I can do about that. And I need to leave the house at some point, if only to get painkillers (been feeling like this since I got up at 8ish). Presumably I'll get used to the heat, and not, say, get heatstroke and have to go to hospital or something/ be housebound for all hours of sunlight until autumn sets in. Hopefully.
Was gonna do a big update about What Exciting Things've Happened, but it's too much effort to press the right keys.
On the bright side, my new shoes are really comfy. And new shoes, ya know... kind of overshadow a bit of shakiness. That's waht's so great about being a women, especially one who's easily pleased by shiny cheap things.

address and drabbles

2007-09-04T12:48:49Z

Ok, my new addy is
- Lucinda Naylor (or De'Elza- spoilt for choice)
Rua de Angola, n.15
R/C Dto
1170, -020
Lisboa, Portugal.

As yet, I can't think of anything I need posted from home. But if Miss Christy fancied sending a care package, I certainly wouldn't say no (old fashioned smiley ;-)).

Wikipedia says insect number 1 was a cockroach. I am not going to think about that.
20 Supersize Marlboro cost about £2. Doesn't bode well. HUGE bottles of alcohol cost a pittance, while for some reason sun lotion, condoms and stuff are a bit pricey.

A man in the street tried to sell me a nokia mobile; a shopkeeper said "ah, you are English!" and proceeded to tell me about Robbie Williams; the people at the bus stop made polite sympathetic noises (instead of laughing) as I tried to wedge the front door open with my foot and nearly broke my ankle. Everything that happens is an adventure.

jantshira @ 2007-09-04T10:11:00

2007-09-04T10:02:58Z

So, people studying abroad ought to keep a diary, right? They also ought to do stuff like letting parents know what's going on. They also may or may not need to get niggling little things off their chests, cullture shock kind of stuff, so they can forget about it.
And I happen to have this Live Journal sitting here doing nothing...
Fair warning to anyone who doesn't want to read reams of crap about my life in Lisbon- defriend me now, cos it will be reams of it, and most of it will be crap. Here goes.

In no particular order, ramblings about shoes and sheets and locks on doors, Brazillians, bugs and a city full of supermodels.
Shoes. I'm not a flat shoes person- don't wear particularly high heels, but not trainers either. Well, that's gonna have to change, now I'm in a city so ludicrously hilly that it seems like a large mountain range has been crushed together and had the snow removed. And been covered in cobblestones. Pretty, yes. A little claustrophobic, when the horizon in all directions is so high as to leave the bare minimum of space for sky, yes.
Which leads, kind of, to the temperature. It's absolutely roasting. Most of the clothes I brought with me are totally redundant, which will teach me to travel light next time, not bring so much luggage that I have to pay an extra £60 just to get it on the plane. God bless Easyjet.
Segue to the blanket issue. I was provided with a thick blanket, a thin blanket and a sheet to sleep under. I ended up sleeping under a super thin piece of gauze embroidered with flowers, and was still rather warm.
The uper thin piece of gauze embroidered with flowers was one of a pair purchased yesterday, in response to the fact that my bedroom window opens directly onto the bus bus stop opposite, the supermarket and the cafe. Putting the metal blind down means the room gets too hot and dark, and I can only shut the shutters when the windows are shut- again with the heat thing. So, I now have a net curtain, metal blinds, a window (obviously) and shutters. Segue to...
...(coo, this linking thing's jolly good fun)...
The Doors Issue. Connected to the Locks Issue. Now, I live on a pretty busy street, so security is obviously quite important. The amount of security here is good, as if the CIA decide to break into my room, bringing with them a team of America's strongest men and most talented locksmiths, I'll still get a good half-hours warning, while they swear and heave and rail at God. If, however, I happen to want to get into my room without taking half an hour and the help of passing persons, it could be a little troublesome.
The street door is not complicated. One inserts the key, wiggles it around furiously, and throws one's weight at the door. When I say the door's quite heavy, though, I mean I physically couldn't open it, and passerby number 1 took pity on me and managed to do it, nearly breaking his shoulder in the process. Inside and up a few stairs, brute strength does no good- only a 'key' which would stump Rubick's cube experts worldwide. Seriously. It's a strange flat, two sided thing, and I think the trick is to get it into the door, part turn it, press a little button at the base of the key which extends the whole thing so it can be turned fully. That's what sympathetic passerby number 2 did, when he passed me on the stair after I'd spent 10 minutes trying. He demonstrated it to me, very kindly, but I was in so much awe of a key worthy of a James Bond film, or a Swiss bank vault, that I didn't pay much attention. I'll try it again on the way out.
Door number 3 isn't terribly complicated, or terribly heavy. It's just enough of both to be a problem. Now, individual room doors are fun, too. Step 1- insert little key (yes, I need 5 keys in all) which takes the barrel with it when you lock it; twist key to insert barrel. Step 2- insert big key, wiggle furiously until it's clicked so many times you don't know if it's locked or not. Step 3- this is the fun part- try to grasp the huge, stiff knob (yes, a shiny copper door knob, thank you) and twist it. Damn near impossible. The only times I've been able to do it I've had to wrap my hand in skirt/top/towel and heave. This has to be done everytime I open any internal door. However, I think I've now exhausted the topic, and will now move swiftly to-
-the lovely Brazillian girl, Christina, who lives a few doors away. She's in her 30s, I think, speaks fluent English and is increadibly useful and kind. Shes working here till October, by which time I'll hopefully have worked everything out, and speak enough Portuguese to be able to communicate with other people. To be fair though, I've managed to speak some portuguese and be understood, which is good as a surprisingly large amount of people here don't speak English. However, some give slow, concise directions in Portuguese, then say in barely accented English "did you understand that?" and I get to feel all proud when I honestly say "sim, obrigada".
(this has its disadvantages. Yesterday I was stopped by 3 separate sets of Jehovas Wittnesses, all tiny old ladies with vice-like gips (probably all that door opening). After spending a rather stilted and uncomfortable 10 minutes with the first two pairs, the third pair were met with a loud, confused "Sorry? I don't speak portuguese at all. Do you want directions?" which got rid of them).
Yes, the portuguese do seem to be very kind.
And very beautiful. It's scary. Everyone under the age of 50 seems to be a supermodel, and everyone over 50 seems to be an actor taking time out from playing 'stereotypical mediterranian (sp) old person'. It's spinny. Every time I see an armed policeman, I can't help staring at a) their looks and b) the fact that they look like they're on a film set. And staring at armed policemen can't be a healthy passtime.
What's left? Oh, the bugs.
I don't know what they were. The first one I squashed on my bedroom floor was about an inch long, with a shiny shell, long antennae, and a severely pissed off expression. The second one was smaller, round, a matt black/brown thing and the same facial expression. The third was The One That Got Away... for now.
Any et ceteras? I can only think of downsides at the moment. Last night I suddenly got really tired, and just wanted to go back to England, to a bed in a room with a sensible temperature and noise level. I was tired (courtesy of that sick-o-clock in the morning flight) and on my own in a deceptively big and labyrinthine city, and was consciously homesick for the first time in my life. Today I've slept well, eaten properly and am going to see if I can work out the subway, and the route to the uni for next week. The little glass bird Ash brought back from Prague is sitting on my desk; the birthday card Mother sent me last year is on my wall, Amy mouse is on my pillow, and soon this place is gonna feel like home.
Go me.

jantshira @ 2007-06-01T22:10:00

2007-06-01T21:22:11Z

Actually, some nice stuff has happened this year. I've met some interesting people, I've been to some interesting places, I think I did ok in my exams and I found out I'm studying in Lisbon next year, which I'd really wanted.

But I really can't deal with every happy day being ruined by sustained attacks on my personality, my looks, the way I say 'good morning' and the way I dress. Helen agrees that they're totally unjustified, and though that's a kind of consolation, it's not much.
I'd rather meet no interesting people, and go to no interesting places, and achieve nothing, and have nothing more interesting to look forward to. I hate head-on attacks; some people can deal with them, some people just laugh them off, but I can't.

On balance, I've hated this year (I know, it's only just June- it's the end of the academic year). Getting out of bed every morning has been a surrender of sorts. Which means once I've moved to Devon, and then to Lisbon, things can only get better.
And when I look back on this year, it won't seem so bad. Nothing ever does. I've used up all my bad karma, now there's some good stuff on its way.
I should've known though, when this academic year started off so badly when I lost my wallet at just the wrong time, in just the wrong place. That omen's worn out now.
Here's to the summer.

jantshira @ 2007-05-25T06:47:00

2007-05-25T05:57:04Z

This is such a pointless meme. But fun.
Ok they'renot the first that came up, but they're all in the first 20

"Did I mention that Lucinda likes to change mortals like us into things like cigarettes or candy, just for her pleasure?"
.
"Lucinda likes to answer the phone now, and so now we can't rely on the answering machine to screen out all the telemarketing calls".
.
"Quite the individual, Lucinda likes to be different. It's something she sort of learned from her big sister Love".
.
"Lucinda likes to punch and says that seiken tsuki is her favorite waza".
.
"Madame Lucinda likes to use this sort of body harness as it allows for further bondage to be used also by having the strap right up through the bottom".
.
And, for variety,
"Lucinda loves to be pet, sleep next to us, run around the house manically for no apparent reason and purr all the time".
.
"Little Lucinda loves to strut her cubic self up and down Halogen alley".
and finally,
"Lucinda loves to draw cartoons and torture the younger years in her spare time".
.
Again, so pointless, and yet so fun

jantshira @ 2007-05-23T14:00:00

2007-05-23T13:11:42Z

I love climbing. Add it to the mental excercise of 'where can i find a handhold, what can I use as a prop, how can i support this while i climb in through that', and you come to the rather worrying conclusion that housebreaking is, for me, a favourite passtime.
I do, however, have limits. For example, I will not attempt to climb in through a window 10 ft off the ground if i know for a fact that the window is only held together by dust and duct tape. Nor will i shimmy 15 foot up a wobbly drainpipe to get onto the shed roof, if i have cut my foot and can't get a plaster on it, and am wearing a VERY big, long floaty gypsy skirt. With no knickers.
On the other hand, I didn't feel much like waiting all afternoon in the sun, until Helen or Jonathan (one of whom had locked me out) got back.
I love my next door neighbours, who have an assorted supply of ladders.
Mrs Falsey couldn't lift the big ladder, and the small one was too small, so she put the kettle on and invited me over for a cup of tea until her son got back, when hey presto, her son got back. I hadn't realised how attractive he is, in a proper manly plumber/guy next door/ good catholic type way, even through they're all so Irish I keep expecting them to start dancing, or worrying about their lucky charms. He lifted bthe ladder over the fence, and sent the next 10 minutes telling me not to worry, he'd just run up and change his clothes and then he'd be over, no really he didn't mind. Yep, it's sexist and patronising, but when it involves me doing stuff so women don't have to, it can be a good thing.
I was dying of heatstroke by that time though, so didn't feel like waiting, so knotted my skirt at the waist, climbed up the ladder and in through the bathroom window, before running downstairs to return the ladder and have a lovely cup of tea wiht the dear neightbours and their attractive son.
.
Now, I suppose I ought ot get back to my revision. But it was a welcome distraction.

why am i always the bad guy?

2007-05-22T13:32:32Z

*Tries, and fails, to summon up a little surprise. Remembers previous assertions that memes hate her*

Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.

Favourite characters, and stuff.

2007-05-11T18:40:27Z

This took a surprisingly long time.
A- Alexander Ivanov (Play- Every Good Boy Deserves Favour)
B- Barbosa (film- Pirates of the Carribean). (Or Bernard Black...)
C- Count László de Almásy (Book/film- The English Patient). This could just be 'cos it's played by Ralph Even-when-I-Play-Psychotic-Mass-Murderers-I-Make-Them-Attractive Feinnes
D- Donatien, Marquis de Sade (Film- Quills)(happens to be played by captain Barbosa).
E- Elrond Half-Elven aka Mr Cool (Book/film Lord of the Rings)

F- Fuscia Groan (Book/TV/film- Gormenghast)
G- Gutman (Play- Camino Real) or God (Book- the Bible)
H- Henry deTamble (Book- The Time Traveller's Wife)
I- Dr Iannis (Book- Captain Correlli's Mandolin)
J- Surely this one's obvious?
.
K- Kristian (Film- Moulin Rouge) yeah, I know it's spelt with a C...
L- Lucifer (Book- I, Lucifer)
M- The Marquis de Carabas (Book- Neverwhere)
N- Newton, Mr Thomas (Film- The Man Who Fell to Earth)
O- Om (Book- Small Gods)
.
P- Paul Atreidis (Book/ film- the Dune series)
Q- Quirm, Leonard de (Book- the Discworld Series)
R- Rubashov (Book- Darkness at Noon)- why do so many names begin with R?
- Roland Deschain (Book- The Dark Tower series) I just can't pick one.
S- Sepulchrave Groan (Book/ film- Gormenghast)
.
T- Tyler Durden (Book/film- Fight Club)
U- Unknown rebel- known as The Tank Man (history/news/media)
V- Senor Vivo (Book- Senor Vivo and the Coca Lords)
W- Wimmer, Arnold (TV- Red Dwarf). Yes, I know.
X- Xavier (Comic/film- X Men)- I don't have much of a choice
.
Y- Yankel (Book/film- Everything is Illuminated)
Z- Zaphod Beeblebrox- (Everyone knows already)

You Belong in Paris

Stylish and expressive, you were meant for Paris.
The art, the fashion, the wine!
Whether you're enjoying the cafe life or a beautiful park...
You'll love living in the most chic place on earth.

What City Do You Belong In?

jantshira @ 2007-05-10T22:10:00

2007-05-10T21:10:57Z

what a nice little holiday

This man is Mr Cool

2007-04-26T10:36:34Z

Man in Sydney who stands around in the mall and offers free hugs has become a celebrity.
He's recieved death threats ("If I kill you now your message will live on forever") and has been compared to Christ.
How cool?
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/afp/20070426/ten-lifestyle-entertainment-australia-hu-1dc2b55.html

jantshira @ 2007-04-25T17:42:00

2007-04-25T16:46:53Z

Ok, so the film of the northern lights is being called the golden compass, because that's what the book was called in america. Good job nobody lives in europe, then. And the actress playing Lyra has perfect little ringlets, a horribly twee, pretty face and sweet drippy voice, and is called Dakota Blue Richards.
Well, there goes that story then.
On an unrelated note, I've put on about 2 stone since giving up smoking, my exams begin next week and i don't know anything, and i'm pretty sure that the builders who are STILL working outside are not there to replace water pipes, but as some sort of rehabilitation service for noisy antisocial people with big drills.