tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65528220569999967942024-03-20T11:16:26.251+00:00Walking by 2015A girl in a chair finding her feet...Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-45318903583748225972014-12-26T21:13:00.000+00:002014-12-26T21:55:56.407+00:00Post the Hundred-and-Twenty-Fifth - a blog post for Boxing Day<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Those of you who have read these ramblings before will notice that the numbers don't quite tally, since my most recent (published) post was very early in the hundreds. 'Published' is the crucial word here, though, because I just haven't had the chance to put up the intervening ones - or, indeed, the posts before them which would really bring this little collection to 125. That said, most of them are written, and soon to be published. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I also didn't start blogging again on the 16th, mainly because the day didn't offer up the kind of new beginning I'd hoped it would. I'll give more details in the post for that day when I finish it but, basically, I got a new chair (yay!) that doesn't fit and in which I sat even worse (boo!). I'm back in my old one (on the advice of my physio and osteopath) whilst we attempt to sort it out - so I didn't think I had anything of import to write about, because everything shuts down for the holidays.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Why post today, then? Well, it seems I was wrong. After the major disappointment and discomfort of my new chair, getting back into my old one (which I had been desperate to get rid of for good) felt like heaven. That taught me something. The state of my body is not entirely dependent on external factors - far from it! - and sometimes things that are supposed to help actually hinder. The only constant in my life is me - chairs break, essay stress comes and goes (although not without staying for what feels like forever!) but I am still Jessi.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before I get mired in potentially pretentious philosophical profundity, though, I'll leave off and simply say that I decided to take this as an opportunity to be with myself and explore. To start from scratch as if my old chair were new. After all, I didn't have many other options; my early Christmas present hadn't arrived and I still had to make it through the actual day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I sat in my chair without positioning myself in the precise way I used to do, shuffling this way and that until it was 'perfect', and instead just let my body teach me what its own perfection felt like. Hence this post - because I'm not sure how, but this new strategy worked, and yesterday I had the first day completely free of pain-related tears in a very long time. Possibly even since 2007, when the first inklings of spasm appeared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not the most ostentatious of gifts, I know, and not as visible a marker as my blue Balliol hoody. Yet, for all its simplicity, it's the one I cherish most - it means things are changing - and I think it just might have made Christmas this year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pain, you're something chronic, but I don't think you will be for much longer! Thanks, chairs - you reminded me to think outside the box - and that seems rather apt as an ending today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Boxing Day!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-45257119971902957822014-10-05T17:25:00.001+01:002014-10-05T17:25:33.748+01:00Post the Hundred-and-Eleventh - Letters to my Legs I<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Since I posted on the first I've had some really busy days. On Thursday I spent three hours getting fitted for a new chair and seating - at last! - and on Friday I had Botox injections to relax some of the muscles in my legs, before using yesterday to recover. I want to write about both of these days in more detail but, because the next few are also pretty hectic, I won't have time. So, in order that I get back to regular posting, I've decided to offer a short poem each day for your perusal - in the form of letters addressed to my legs - to explain what I'd like to gain from this most recent round of injections. Hope you like.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dear Legs,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes we don't get on that well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You squeeze, I shriek, and any attempt</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">at a truce is almost literally like</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">getting blood from a stone -</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">because my muscles have turned to rock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I try to remember that </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am my own Medusa,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">though with little need for a mirror </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">to show the damage I cause myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For all our fights, we are the same.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It seems, too, that flesh and bone are thicker even </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">than the healing waters of my beloved hydro pool.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So we make the best of a spasmy situation,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">turning tears into teaching, until poison</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">is palatable - and botulism bliss.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I send you to Coventry, tagging along</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">for the early autumnal drive,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">sleepless though soon to be slumbering,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">our mutual silence assured by an aura of anaesthesia</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and the swish of a signed consent form.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Now you have our lethal nectar</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">trickling through your tendons,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">will you, my weary wanderers,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">call time on your tyranny?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I tiptoe in tentative hope.</span></div>
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Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-24217366351385766832014-10-01T21:04:00.000+01:002014-10-01T21:04:03.810+01:00Post the Hundred-and-Tenth - on dissertations and dear friends<span style="font-size: large;">I'm back!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Having been absent from this blog for quite a while now, it feels somehow apt that I return to writing with my hundred-and-tenth post, albeit a short one to fill you in on where I am in my life. I have finished my dissertation, and consequently my MA in Text & Performance, the first of my two Master's degrees. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(That sentence will contain a surprise for most of you, I imagine - namely the 'two' - which I will explain in a forthcoming update. I promise.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For now, though, I just want to express my gratitude for the wonderful people who have helped me get to this point on my journey. This summer has been a rocky one, in all sorts of ways, but it has also reminded me of what fabulous creatures we humans are - how we come together and support each other when we most need it, and find laughter along the way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So yeah. Soppy returning post done. Thanks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love you all</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jxxxx</span>Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-52345579374900889232014-08-19T17:18:00.000+01:002015-08-15T11:09:18.747+01:00Post the Hundred-and-Ninth - for Eva<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I haven't quite finished the backlog, and I've somehow created even more of one, because I've had so much work to do over the past week and a bit. Even so, this post needs to be uploaded before any of the others, because it's very important in spite (or perhaps because) of how difficult it is to get the words onto paper...or rather screen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today is the first anniversary of my dear friend Eva's passing. That is a very odd sentence for me to write, partly because I haven't had a first anniversary like this in a while, but mostly because Eva was such a lively presence that it's really hard to think that she's not here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Except, of course, she is...because such an irrepressible spirit as hers doesn't just up and leave. So today, amidst the sadness and the disbelief, I find I am also filled with an immense gratitude, for her being there, for being my friend and for making so many wonderful memories for me and everyone else who knew her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In case you're reading this somewhere, Eva Weva, I want to say thank you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for your laughter, so infectious that, no matter how I was feeling, I'd join in - and of course feel much better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for your hugs, which were like an envelope of joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for your fierce independence - and fifteen-year-old you teaching fourteen-year-old me that I could have it, too, if I wanted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for the (constant!) texts - a comforting reminder that you were always on the other end of the phone. I still have your number saved, and always will.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for the in-jokes - head-banging to The Killers' <i>Mr. Brightside</i> in Starbucks, for which you ribbed me mercilessly afterwards, before making me listen to Rhianna...and love her for your sake. Having secret chats in BSL about cute boys (after making sure they weren't signing, in case they understood). Pizza and 'anti-Paris Hilton' propaganda in the back garden, because we were drunk on fresh air and happiness. The hilarity at all the ridiculous situations we found ourselves in, mostly courtesy of Jane. Ha!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for the reminder, by way of the Spice Girls, that all you need is positivity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for the love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for being you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Shine bright like a diamond.</span></div>
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Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-18148564380795488142014-08-10T20:23:00.000+01:002014-08-10T20:23:49.895+01:00Post the Hundredth - the wonders of whisky<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought that, since I don't have anything major to report in this hundredth post, I could at least write something with a provocative title - and the last two days have given me just the right topic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyone who knows me in real life will be aware that I don't like the taste of alcohol - except for whisky (or whiskey, if it's a JD and coke) and occasionally brandy. Even then, I very rarely drink, despite the fact that it actually has a rather helpful effect on my body - namely relaxation - and I don't get hangovers. Why don't I drink often, then? Simply because I don't feel I need a drink to have fun, as well as the fact that spirits aren't a particularly social beverage, unless, of course, you're with fellow whisky-lovers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This means that, for all my knowledge about how helpful it is for me, it's not usually the first thing I think of when I'm in pain or uncomfortable...which is probably good? For the last two nights, though, in an experiment to investigate whether it'd help my sleep difficulties, Mama has made me a yummy hot toddy - and it's helped! The discomfort hasn't gone completely, but it's on its way out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(I should say, to close, that these hot toddies won't be a long term fixture. For all I wanted to be provocative, I don't want to come across as an alcoholic!)</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-34720110497930996072014-08-09T20:59:00.001+01:002014-08-09T20:59:41.346+01:00Post the Ninety-Ninth - smile<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Ninety-nine posts! (Or at least there will be once I polish off the backlog, which I plan to finish doing tomorrow in celebration of reaching one hundred. I'll let you know if that succeeds.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So today, because of that plan, instead of a lengthy post - not that many of the recent updates have been long - I have a friendly reminder. It's helped me hugely over recent days, which have been both busy and rather tough, and I thought it might be helpful for you too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's nothing spectacular, but I've found its effect to be. Just pause, take a moment to breathe, and smile. Not in a 'creepy man on the street telling you to smile like you're beholden to do it' way, just to give yourself a private and personal boost - because we all need those every now and then.</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-55084420558198255222014-08-08T20:36:00.000+01:002014-08-09T20:38:22.679+01:00Post the Ninety-Eighth - on the importance of a good soundtrack<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Several of the posts in my backlog focus on strategies for tackling a heavy workload, so I suppose you could consider this one as part of a series, at least once the rest are up!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've written before about the solace I find in music, and even posted a playlist of the tracks I used in training last year, so this particular strategy probably won't come as a surprise. (I can't lay my fingers on the links to the posts right now, but I'll add them when I can. Promise.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Whether it's music that relates to a topic - in the case of my current dissertation, for instance, Baroque and early Classical composers - or just a mix of random enjoyment (which for me, I'll admit, usually includes those same composers anyway) it's often a great tool to de-stress and refocus energy. Different moods or artists may work better at different times of the day, or you may have a go-to track that always helps to pick you up. As with every aspect of life, it's never the same for everyone, and I'm just sharing what works for me. I've never had aspirations to be a lifestyle guru or anything, hehe...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Much love and good tuneage,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jessi xxx</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-10686969815039284312014-08-07T20:09:00.000+01:002014-08-09T20:09:53.106+01:00Post the Ninety-Seventh - moving on up<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Today, amid yet more dissertation graft, I had a very important medical appointment. I won't go into the details of it, because some of what was discussed was highly sensitive and emotional, and doesn't only involve me. Nevertheless, I wanted to give some mention of it on this blog, as it is extremely relevant to the subject matter and marks the first point in the process of me being able to make some pretty fundamental changes in my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So here's to moving onwards and upwards!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-87092354285997599552014-08-06T20:00:00.000+01:002014-08-09T20:01:43.989+01:00Post the Ninety-Sixth - one girl and her dog (and dad)<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Today has been such a lovely day, spent in the company of my dear Papa and my Darcy dog. It was full of hard work, as I blasted off a scene of my latest draft of my play, but it was very definitely lovely - especially because my break consisted of taking said dear dog for a long walk on the Heath. The walk in itself was wonderful, of course, but it felt even more so for the simple reason that it's still such a novelty to me that I can get out there to go for the walk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yay for fixed chairs!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-45923223716528386422014-08-05T20:44:00.000+01:002014-08-05T20:44:43.337+01:00Post the Ninety-Fifth - healing hydro<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I know, I know. I write about hydro far too much. The thing is, though, my instructor was away last week and I missed out on two sessions. She had a lovely and much-needed holiday, so I didn't mind, but it felt so good (<i style="font-weight: bold;">so good</i>) to be back in the water this morning!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-21522275376967776442014-08-04T19:00:00.000+01:002014-08-04T19:00:07.717+01:00Post the Ninety-Fourth - sleepy scrambled eggs<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">(I've decided that, although I feel super guilty about the backlog, it's better not to create more of one whilst I'm in the process of trying to clear it. So, despite the fact that I definitely haven't got time for <i>long</i> posts right now, I'm going to try and make time for some sort of update each day, even if it's just a sentence of gratitude, until the plethora of backdated posts materialises. For instance, today, I'd really like to write something longer to honour the centennial of the breakout of WWI, but I'm being very strict about my timetable - and my use of electronic devices, in a bid to sort out my sleep.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Instead I write in homage to my Mama - and scrambled eggs. Sleep has got difficult again (having become considerably better, as you'll be able to read once I've got caught up) and this morning I was really feeling it, and consequently <i>not </i>feeling like breakfast. Or brunch. Or any meal whatsoever. Now, Mama knows that, when I get like this, I need something which is full of protein and which I can eat without much effort.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cue scrambled eggs, cooked with basil, because plain egg has a texture that I can't always swallow that easily. And because my Mama is a star.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They, and she, provided me with the energy to get through today, to write more of my play (rhyme unintentional) and then to have a lovely catch up with a primary school friend. Huzzah!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-57385712086513852442014-08-03T20:18:00.001+01:002014-08-03T20:18:04.346+01:00Post the Ninety-Third - list<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Firstly, I realise that, at the moment of publication, this is not my ninety-third post. Secondly, however, it soon will be - and that brings me to an explanation of the dual meaning of its title, 'list'. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On a mundane level, then, it simply refers to the fact that (amidst the pages and pages of the play which makes up just half of my dissertation) I am still keeping an (ever-longer) list of dated daily topics for this blog. Yet it also has a deeper resonance, because I hope I may convey how much I list - a (now relatively archaic) synonym for 'want' - to be writing more regularly than is possible at the moment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not sure how many of you will even be reading this insignificant slice of the internet any more (I imagine very few) but I nevertheless would like to convey my sincerest thanks if you have stuck around, as well as my deepest apologies for letting you down so abysmally on the update front.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jessi xxx</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-74481486047036103562014-07-18T16:49:00.000+01:002014-08-03T19:57:21.805+01:00Post the Seventy-Seventh - imini emnandi kuwe, Tata Madiba!<span style="font-size: large;">Today is the 18th of July and it is Nelson Mandela's birthday. Had he lived to greet it, Tata Madiba (as he is affectionately known by most South Africans) would be ninety-four. It felt very odd writing that last part of the previous sentence. Due to the fact that he was alive for nearly a century, as well as the huge presence he had around the world as well as in South Africa, to be celebrating his birthday in his absence is...new, and I guess we haven't got the blueprint for how to do it, especially with all the mixed emotions that will come up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, in South Africa, sadness is always met with joy - and if anyone knows how to party it's us. So hopefully we can honour his day and his memory as he would have wanted us to - with fun, laughter and friendship. I only wish I could be over there myself, but we will light a candle and sing tonight. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Imini emnandi kuwe, imini emnandi kuwe... </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We love you, Tata.</span>Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-50983396177249462402014-07-17T17:00:00.000+01:002014-07-27T19:13:27.463+01:00Post the Seventy-Sixth - perpetual beginning and ending<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">NB: I should note here that this post is the first in another series of backdated entries so, although it is marked as 17th July, I am actually writing it a full ten days later on the 27th. Again, this is not due to a lack of subject matter, merely a lack of time - for which I once more profusely apologise. Several people have asked me what has happened to my blog, to which I can only reply 'dissertation', before attempting to make amends and catch up. I would say this won't happen again, as I did before, but that clearly wasn't true or successful. So I'll simply try to make my way through the backlog.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Having posted yesterday about the pride and congratulations I wish to give to those of my Warwick friends who have reached their own graduations, and how I can't quite believe it's been a year since mine, today I want to do something similar for my current cohort of friends and colleagues at RADA. For, whilst we have yet to reach graduation, this week brought with it the performances of those of us who decided to stage a work-in-progress piece as part of our practical dissertations. I am writing a play, so this does not apply to me, but I have attended most of the productions. Unfortunately I can't go tonight, because I have had tickets for something else for months, but I know that the performance will be as brilliant as all the others have been.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That is why I am proud. My friends have exhibited the diversity and the complexity of their imaginations, dealing with a range of topics in a variety of different styles, and they have shown the real power and joy of theatre - anything is possible, if you can think it up. Most importantly, they have given it their all, and done so with style, grace and professionalism. If these are 'works-in-progress', then I can't wait to witness the finished articles, should they choose to develop them further.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yay MA T&P - what a wonderful year we've had!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-62417495253363292802014-07-16T17:17:00.001+01:002014-07-16T17:17:21.545+01:00Post the Seventy-Fifth - time warp<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">This is a very weird post for me to write, not least because I didn't expect to be blogging still and therefore to have a place to mark it. A year ago on this date (although not this day - it was a Tuesday) I graduated from Warwick and walked to collect my degree. A whole year has passed. How is that possible!? Yet it feels like yesterday - and the thought that I managed it, surrounded by family and dear friends, still fills me with unbounded joy. The memories could not be more vivid.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Somewhat ironically for a literature student, however, I'm finding it difficult to formulate words - and, anyway, today isn't about me. It's about my friends and fellow students from the English dept who have collected degrees of their own this afternoon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, congratulations, lovelies! Wish I could have been there to watch and I hope your day has been as memorable as you deserve it to be!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-61307791011513421012014-07-15T17:28:00.000+01:002014-07-20T17:31:21.391+01:00Post the Seventy-Fourth - another homage to hydro<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I know I said I wouldn't write about hydro for a while, so apologies for boring you by bringing it up again, but I just wanted to express my unbounded gratitude for the sessions and the positive effect that they have on my body. They're teaching my muscles to open up (and wake up!). They're also really helping my sleep (in general, although the night after I'm always rather achy) for which I am particularly thankful. Exhaustion is not my friend, it's true, but stretches in hot water certainly are - and I love them for it.</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-86918143320139996682014-07-14T17:08:00.000+01:002014-07-20T17:10:20.616+01:00Post the Seventy-Third - balance<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Suzy came again today and we did some great work. One of the things I have to remember about this process, though, is that slow and steady wins the race - by which I mean that I have to go with my body and listen to what it tells me, rather than going full pelt and then exhausting myself because I'm not quite ready to get there yet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is a tricky balance to strike because I've a tendency to be a perfectionist and overwork myself. I'm writing this post to document my decision that from this day forward that must stop. We'll see how long that lasts, because I'm sure I decided something similar during <i>Walking by 2013</i>, but I thought having it written down might help.</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-48482922339317719002014-07-13T16:52:00.000+01:002014-07-20T16:53:42.690+01:00Post the Seventy-Second - brain games<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Last night we went to the Young Vic to watch the final performance of T<i>he Valley of Astonishment</i>. It was a co-creation of Peter Brook and Marie-Hélène Estienne, an ensemble piece beautifully portrayed by (the magnificent) Kathryn Hunter, Marcello Magni and Jared McNeill, along with musicians Raphaël Chambouvet and Toshi Tsuchitori. There was no plot as such. Although the narrative was centred around the story of Sammy Costas, a woman with a particularly fascinating memory, the piece was more concerned with the insights that she (and other characters, multiroled by her fellow actors) could offer into the workings of the human brain than what actually happened to them individually throughout the course of the play - most of what would be called 'plot' came from back stories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Aside from Sammy, there was a man whose synaesthesia caused him to see colours whilst hearing music, and another guy whose paralysis had destroyed his proprioception (his sense of his body in space), which meant he had to use his eyes to direct his movements. If he couldn't see, he'd fall over - and this is where I was most intrigued.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I was little, I was often asked to be a 'model' for physiotherapy students, and to participate in training courses. The students would work with me (and other kids) every day for two weeks or so, hoping to gain a deeper understanding of paediatric physical disability. I did loads of rounds of this sort of thing, over several years, but naturally there are particular incidents which leap out of my memory. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The one relevant to today's post involved the course leader asking the students to watch me sitting independently on a plinth and to note the stability of my trunk and how well my feet were grounded. He then blindfolded me with a towel, and I crumbled, feeling really wobbly and completely off-balance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I learnt a huge lesson that day, never mind the students: I hadn't realised how much I was using my eyes until they were taken away, if only for a moment. All my focus and concentration was rooted in my sight, but it was so unconscious that I'd failed to notice my reliance. Since then, for about the last fifteen years, I have worked to improve my proprioception - and I think I can now safely say that I can do most things without the involvement of my eyes being absolutely necessary. Even so, after a while I begin to feel wobbly and unstable, and I'm not yet back to the place where I can sit on a plinth (or the edge of my bed) on my own and feel totally secure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I identified with that particular character a lot, feeling great empathy for the manner in which he lived his life, and his story provoked many different emotions for me. It made me think about how everything is relative. In some ways, he is condition was much more severe than mine. After all, cerebral palsy doesn't equate to paralysis (as I am so often having to remind people!), and I don't fall over if I shut my eyes. However, I often feel as though I might, and I know my issues with proprioception are responsible for the motion sickness I sometimes experience in the car. Moreover, he had managed to get himself back in to better physical shape than I have, and he could walk. This would leave him as the more able of the two of us in the eyes of medical professionals, were it possible to compare a real person with a fictional character.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, thanks to the concept of relativity, the subjectivity of human experience and our ever-growing understanding of the abilities and possibilities of the brain, I am inspired. If a man with difficulties with proprioception which affect him so significantly that he falls over if he closes his eyes is still able to walk, then so am I. So will I. More than that, I'm well on the way, and I'm hugely enjoying the journey through my own valley of astonishment.</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-8636860552233346612014-07-12T17:30:00.000+01:002014-07-16T12:48:08.831+01:00Post the Seventy-First - silver linings<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought about calling this post ate seven', but that would've been disingenuous, because nothing has actually happened with my chair since I last wrote about it. Or, rather, nothing bad has happened. So I chose the title 'silver linings' because today I think I discovered one of the reasons my chair broke.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't believe I've mentioned the number of chairs we've had in this house at various points over the last few months. There were five, none of which worked. Two are perhaps obvious - my broken electric and a new manual the wheelchair clinic had sent but which wasn't modified appropriately for me to use. The other three were as follows:</span></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">my old manual, which no longer has a backrest or a seat</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">my old electric, kept in case of emergencies after the wheelchair clinic said they'd just scrap it, but no longer suits my needs and we've finally decided it must go.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">an electric that a friend was no longer able to use, lent to us for my Papa to modify, if at all possible</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is this last one around which my post centres today. Papa was given free reign, so he took it away to perform the necessary adjustments (hopefully). Due to the fact that my friend has to have her chairs driven by an attendant, the joystick was positioned at the back, so the first thing he had to do was move that to the front. In fact, we thought that was the only thing he'd have to do, aside from some minor rewiring. It turned out, however, that the back brackets weren't compatible with my backrest and the footplates couldn't quite be persuaded to get to (or to simulate, with some help) a 90° angle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I couldn't use it, and it has sat rather forlornly in our passage - until today, that is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of my former helpers has two boys, the eldest of whom is sixteen, and a keen footballer. Unfortunately, in the last year, he has had to undergo treatment for brain and spine tumours. I won't go into details, because it isn't my story to share, but the effects of the treatment mean that he now finds it difficult to walk for long distances and hasn't really wanted to leave the house too often.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mama and I were going to visit them today, when we suddenly thought about the chair, and the possibility of him using it. We phoned and asked if he'd like it. The answer was a resounding yes! I stayed at home, because we can't fit two big electric chairs in the car, and Mama went to deliver it - and when she came home she couldn't stop grinning and telling me how delighted he was to be able to play with his friends again without getting tired.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I think that's why my chair broke. If it hadn't, we wouldn't have been given the other one to modify, and wouldn't have been able to offer it to him when it didn't work for me. The thought of his delight makes every single minute of the time I spent without power worthwhile.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I really mean that last sentence. I know what it's like to feel trapped by your body and unable to join in when you so desperately want to, and I'd do anything to ensure that he and others have a way out of that experience. That's why I'm fundraising for Starlight, of course, and why I will continue to do so for as long as I can think up new and innovative ideas. Yet it also felt super special to be able to grant a wish of sorts myself, not through money, but through coincidence of circumstance - being the right person at the right time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let's put it this way - I remember the freedom I felt when I first tried out a powered chair, aged five, and then when I got my own at the age of seven. To have been able to give that freedom to someone else feels even better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm just so happy he can go out again. Now we can race ;)!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-9607838040496723132014-07-11T18:50:00.000+01:002014-07-14T18:51:14.534+01:00Post the Seventieth - cut off<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It seems apt that my seventieth post is one filled with joy. You might not guess that from the title, though, so allow me to elaborate. 'Cut off' is there because it has two potential meanings for me. The first is isolation and, indeed, I've been well-acquainted with that feeling. The second can evoke new beginnings, however, and it is that to which I refer today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After more than two months of being able to leave my house only on rare occasions because of my chair, my hair had grown rather long. My hairdresser is just around the corner, but they have a tiny step that requires the power of my chair to get up it, and I had to wait. So to celebrate my chair being fixed at last, yesterday (as well as having my wonderful lesson) I went and had it chopped. I haven't taken photos, because it's simply been restored to its usual bob (and it's extremely difficult for me to take a selfie!), but it feels fantastic, as well as symbolic that I marked the end of one 'cutting off' by having another! Puns, puns, we love puns...! </span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-46159577463540745902014-07-10T19:30:00.000+01:002014-07-14T18:27:56.039+01:00Post the Sixty-Ninth - finding my voice again<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Today was a fabulous, fabulous, day. I had my first voice lesson in an absolute age (of the musical, not the spoken variety, that is) and it felt so lovely to sing again. After a much-needed catch up and some vocal exercises, I had a proper sing-through of a piece by my beloved GF Handel, and my teacher said that she's really pleased with the way that the work I've been doing at RADA has impacted my voice. My speaking voice has found its correct placement, just as my body is doing, and it has taken my singing voice with it. Some of the new qualities that have developed will be due to the maturing of my vocal chords, she says, but mostly they're due to the physical and personal confidence I've gained from my course. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm still definitely a mezzo, too, which is great because I've always preferred exploring characters like Carmen and Charlotte (and my favourites, the breeches roles of the eighteenth century) to those written for sopranos. Not that Violetta and Tatyana aren't beautiful - they just don't get into my bones as much.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">So now my teacher is thinking of potential new repertoire, I'm preparing for a recital, and I have something to fill the gap left by the practical work we did over the first two terms but which stopped to give us time for our dissertations. I'm not sure which excites me most - the singing, or the fact that it will do such good things for my body and keep me on an even keel. Lots of people have commented on how my posture has improved over the past year, and they've asked how I plan to continue that improvement. Well, this is how, because posture is one of the most important aspects of singing - and now that my schedule is slightly less hectic I can fit it in. Even after just one lesson it's made such a difference to my intercostal muscles! Yay!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-298064246313140142014-07-09T15:30:00.000+01:002014-07-14T17:28:41.422+01:00Post the Sixty-Eighth - hurrah for hydro<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">I had hydro again yesterday - which was a big deal because it meant that the pool is finally stable again and Friday wasn't a one off. I probably won't write about it for a while now, since I know that hearing about the same things over and over again can be boring, but I wanted to document yesterday's session for two reasons.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">Firstly, I was premenstrual. You can ick all you want about the fact that I've mentioned my cycle online (I had doubts about covering this aspect myself) but the fact is I am a woman, women should be allowed the freedom and respect to write about whatever they like on the internet, and my monthly cycle has frequently had a significant impact on my physical ability. For instance, in the weeks leading up to my period (yes, I have actually typed the word), my muscles are usually very tight and my spasms increase a great deal. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">However - and this is why I broach the subject now - in the pool yesterday I was able to shake that off, and to relax, which brings me to my second point. During my stretches, we/I managed to get both my legs within in mere inches of completely straight. I've not been that flexible in years on a good day, never mind on a day when I'm hormonal.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">So the moral of the story is - I control my body. My body does not control me. I can't quite express just how good it feels to be able to state that.</span></span></div>
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Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-75459009600049701262014-07-08T11:24:00.000+01:002014-07-14T11:26:40.371+01:00Post the Sixty-Seventh - resistance is helpful<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Suzy came yesterday and we had a brilliant session working with resistance bands to strengthen my arm muscles - both the right and the left! That was huge for me, because I didn't think the left would co-operate, but we got some good work done. I don't have pictures (our hands were rather full, understandably) but I'm super excited to see how this progresses!</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-59446325323919474032014-07-07T18:58:00.000+01:002014-07-13T19:15:10.364+01:00Post the Sixty-Sixth - what I went to school for<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">From the title of this post, and from the fact that the first thing I did was work on a dissertation draft, you probably won't get how much fun was had yesterday - unless, of course, you're a (British) child of the 90s and the early 00s. Then you'll know immediately that it's a reference to the title of a Busted song and, from there, you might just guess what I was up to...maybe! Haha.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">For those of you who haven't/won't have guessed, I spent the afternoon and evening in Hyde Park at the British Summer Time festival (which could not have been more aptly named, as it turned out, but more on that later) watching McBusted (Busted and McFly combined) and the Backstreet Boys! The Backstreet Boys. Before I get effusive to the point of incoherence, though (and because I want to be able to explain things properly), I'm going to start at the beginning and work through the day - minus the dissertation, naturally, despite it taking over my morning!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">So. I was in the company of my dear friend Hattie (Heather, not Harriet - she wears hats a lot) who came up to stay from Surrey. It was an exciting day for us both, because Hattie had never been to a gig, and I'd never been to a festival. Things to tick off our lists - literally, in Hat's case, because she turns thirty at the end of the month and has a list of the thirty things she wants to do before then. I think she's down to the last four now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-size: large; line-height: 1.3em;">Anyway (because Hat will hunt me down if I talk too much about her) we were super excited, and kept giggling like schoolgirls in the car on the way there. I suppose that was allowed, really, because the day would be filled with the music we listened to while we </span><em style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-size: large; line-height: 1.3em;">were</em><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-size: large; line-height: 1.3em;"> at school - hence the choice of title for this post. It was only when we arrived and Mama very kindly dropped us off, though, that the excitement really began - because we realised just how well thought through the access facilities for the event had been. We had arranged a spot on the wheelchair viewing platform, but we didn't expect there to be golf buggies with ramps (ramps!) to ferry us there. I'd never seen them before - mostly you can only use buggies if you can transfer out of your chair - and was really impressed! I felt like I was in South Africa staying with my cousins and that we were on safari, not in the middle of London. Thanks, Hyde Park!</span></div>
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<a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9P0lDq7-2Y0/U8LLvQrkMgI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vKU-LpoQEFA/s960/Photo%25252020140713191103.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="" height="667" id="blogsy-1405275130214.6028" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9P0lDq7-2Y0/U8LLvQrkMgI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vKU-LpoQEFA/s500/Photo%25252020140713191103.jpg" width="500" /></a><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">Once inside the festival, we were told where to go to get wristbands (yay wristbands!) that would allow us into the accessible area, and we clocked just how many people there were. The vibe was incredible, and we were still only by the entry gate, nowhere near our allocated spot. The sky was an amazing blue, the sun was streaming down, and it all seemed rather surreal. Wristbands on, we found our way to the platform, where we also found my friend Savannah, who had managed to use her guest pass to sneak in and say hello. She was there with her best friend Gi, wife of Tom (one of the guys in McFly), and their new baby Buzz, who was chilling out somewhere in the shade with his noise-cancelling earphones on. It was lovely to catch up (Sav's currently very busy being her brilliant self and playing Glinda in the West End production of Wicked) with a backdrop of the music of The Vamps, who were new to me but great. We took what I think is my first ever selfie:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">Which prompted Hat and I to try and take one of the two of us, as well:</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kUXkm6rerCI/U8LLzkrmDvI/AAAAAAAAAJY/2dd-l_2W0-8/s960/Photo%25252020140713191103.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="aligncenter" height="375" id="blogsy-1405275130185.4392" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kUXkm6rerCI/U8LLzkrmDvI/AAAAAAAAAJY/2dd-l_2W0-8/s500/Photo%25252020140713191103.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">From the above photo you'll also be able to gauge the size of the viewing platform. This was another reason to be impressed - we had thought that there would be room for maybe three or four wheelchair users, because that's usually the maximum capacity in most venues, but I'm sure there were about thirty of us (maybe even fifty!), plus our chosen companions. That was great, because it meant that we had the same vibe in our little section as there seemed to be everywhere else - people mucking around, doing silly dances, and generally having a wonderful time - and that was before the Backstreet Boys came on!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">When they did, Hat and I did a quick calculation, and worked out that most of the people with whom we were sharing the platform probably weren't born when the band formed. This fact was confirmed about halfway through the hourlong set when they mentioned that they started out in 1993 - when Hat was nine and I nearly two. But, apart from making us feel old, having missed out the first time around didn't seem to impact the fourteen-year-olds at the front from enjoying themselves immensely - it would appear that nineties pop music transcends time and age. We, of course, completely revelled in the nostalgia. <em>As Long As You Love Me</em> and <em>I Want it That Way</em> played and I was right back at primary school. Their new stuff was good, obviously, but not quite the same - and we were worried for a while that they'd leave out <em>Everybody (Backstreet's Back) </em>in favour of publicising the new album. I'd forgotten that that's one of the oldest tricks in the book when it comes to gigs, though, to leave the best for last. So we got to witness the dance that we had both spent hours (separately) trying to learn:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">Which was a good thing too because, by this point, it had already poured with rain several times - as you can see from the few pictures below - but we didn't mind. It's sort of a prerequisite of a British festival, hence my comment earlier about this one having a particularly apt name, so we felt we'd been truly inducted. It gave us the opportunity to muck around in the break between acts with the puddles that had developed on the platform, and to take the last of the photos in the group below. That's how much water there was - we could see our reflections!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">One of the things I didn't expect at all about the festival experience was how quickly the time went. I had thought the five hours that we were there (<a href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">from 5-10pm</a>) would feel like an age but, after we'd taken those photos and had a catch up, there were about five minutes until McBusted were due on. And then they duly arrived, flying in on a car, in beautiful homage to their mutual inspiration, <em>Back to the Future</em>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">Now, my twenty-two-year-old self did have a moment of wondering whether I should be quite as excited as I was about watching this lot live. I've never been a fangirling type of person, so my enthusiasm surprised me. It was as though I was ten and twelve again - but then I realised this was precisely why I should be excited, because hearing the music of these two bands again allowed me a glimpse back into the past, as well as forward into the future. It struck me as especially apt that it was both rainy and sunny at the same time, too, because (to use that favoured device of literature students everywhere, pathetic fallacy) the jumble of weather mirrored my mixed up emotions. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry, because the memories were so vivid. From the moment the first notes of <em>Air Hostess</em> rang out, until we heard the final chords of <em>Year 3000</em>, I was back at secondary school discos and dancing with my friend Vicky. Boyfriends forgotten for a bit, we would rock out in sisterly solidarity, trying our best to look 'cool' (whatever that was) with our bottle green uniforms and our attempts at dancing in our chairs. I found myself filled with giggles at the things we did, all these years later, whilst also being very sad that we wouldn't be doing them again. A lot can happen in just over a decade, it turns out - not only can bands break up and reform, but friends can pass away. That said, my overwhelming feeling was of joy, because the music gives me such a powerful and long lasting link to my dear friend - as well as a reminder that it's possible to move onward and upward without forgetting, and that she would hopefully be proud of me for doing so. Here, again, the weather matched with what I was thinking - and, indeed, with the music. About halfway through the gig, just as the bands began to play McFly's breakout hit<em>Five Colours in Her Hair</em>, a glorious double rainbow appeared above the stage. It was perfect, for the song and for Vicky.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">It was also just what I needed to bring me back into the present, grinning and hopeful, to bop my way through the rest of the night. I sang along to every single song, the lyrics as familiar as bedtime stories, although they were brought up to date brilliantly with the use of emojis and things as subtitles - and a very cleverly incorporated clip of Tom's groom's speech in the introduction to <em>Crashed the Wedding</em>. Then there was the casual transition to the flying saucer, of course...! And the flames picking out the name of the joint venture, McBusted enshrined in fire. Just, you know, because that's what one does when one plays to over 50,000 people in Hyde Park, I suppose. That, and pretend to start your set all over again, before finishing on a high with that quintessential tune of the year 2000 - <em>Year 3000</em> - because it would seem that it's human nature that once we reach one milestone we're already looking forward to the next.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">It. Was. Ace. (The sci-fi didn't end with the concert, either, because we got to ride back in the dusk in one of those awesomely accessible golf buggies. Yeah!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">So. This has been a massively (and overly) long post about a massively (and overwhelmingly) amazing day. Apologies for rambling, but I hope you got a sense of just how great it was. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: large;">I'd like to end by saying a huge thank you - to Hattie for coming, to Sav for the catch up, and to the McBusted gang for being brilliant. Without wanting to be too OTT, you gave me the soundtrack to my teenage years, and I'll never forget that. You really were what I went to school for. </span></span></div>
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Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552822056999996794.post-56338409475266702072014-07-06T23:45:00.000+01:002014-07-11T20:01:13.130+01:00Post the Sixty-Fifth - elated exhaustion<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Today was an amazing, amazing day, but I'm too tired to write anything coherent tonight. More (in the form of a proper, lengthy, post with pictures and everything!) tomorrow.</span></div>
Jessihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02093768339757970412noreply@blogger.com0