I am gifted with a family that if I could, I would choose. That said, I’m only including my immediate family in that, seeing as if I could I would boot a few of my extended family members out into a different universe, and then turn them into goats or similar avatars that they couldn’t cause trouble with.
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Saturday, 24 November 2012
Whenever I grumble about my name, I’m assured by the nearest person that Emma is a perfectly nice name. Of course, they’re called something like ‘Natasha’ or something normal, but not very common. They don’t understand the annoyance of your name being called out by every stranger, making you freeze in mid pee in the toilet, or turn to look at someone, who gives you an embarrassed look and waves over your shoulder.
I may get to be named after a Jane Austen novel, but I could also have been named after a Spice Girl or any assorted person on the planet. Of course, to every teacher who reads the class roll, my name is unusual.
Wednesday, 21 November 2012
We all have a name that could have been, a list scrawled in messy adult handwriting that could have been our label, our calling card. For me, it was Darcy. My mam is a big reader too, and had I been born a boy, Darcy (Mr Darcy) from Pride and Prejudice was number one on my parents’ list.
Saturday, 17 November 2012
I was an only child for almost seven years; seven quiet and comfortable years, at least for me. I was a very loud child. I seldom shut my mouth and could talk for hours about pretty much anything. I used to sing to people on the aeroplane, talk to doctors, assuring them that they couldn’t get anything past me and anyone who visited our house was in for a very long night of constant interrogation. Recently, my dad was chatting to one of his old friends and he looked at me and said, “She’s not talking”. He met me once, when I was two, and I talked non-stop for three hours.
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
I could preach all day about how wonderful books are, and I think I may do just that! I started reading when I was quite young, beginning my journey with the usual suspects, the Famous Five, Secret Seven and the Five Find-Outers. I loved those books and the sense of each chapter adding new pieces to the puzzle, followed by the final revelation, sometimes accompanied by an excited ‘I knew it!’ from my end. My path followed quite naturally then to Harry Potter, which had the same sense of a ‘mystery’ that had to be solved. I followed Harry through the corridors of Hogwarts, longing for my own four poster bed, my own owl, my own spell books and the cushy armchairs in the Gryffindor common room, or perhaps the magnificent view of the grounds of Hogwarts from the airiness of Ravenclaw’s tower common room.
Saturday, 10 November 2012
I, like every other resident of this planet, have spent my life being moulded, adjusted and reshaped by many parties, each intent on making the perfect me, the right kind of me. I’ve been influenced by every cartoon, every movie watched over the top of my DS, every word I’ve heard and every person I’ve admired.
My first solid ambition in life was to be a Pokémon Trainer and the second was to go to Hogwarts and live in the library; not exactly realistic goals. Even now, these ambitions still tug at my heartstrings, evoking the same kind of longing they did since the day they popped into my overcrowded head. I still sometimes add my longing to live in Hogwarts to the end of my diary entries, where I place all my thoughts, both magical and mundane.