Saturday, June 9, 2007

Saturday again

Hmm, it's a good day, a bit uneventful though, maybe I'll go a-walking about a bit.
I had a couple of recovery days from the picturebook work stint, where I just did some writing and tried to design a T-Shirt for threadless.com just to find someone else had submitted a hamster wheel the same day.

Never mind.

Today I got over a bump in the story I'm writing in the morning-hours, and somehow connected it to an older one I wrote years ago, and realised that it actually fits with a whole load of other story ideas I've got racked up. Now I'm wondering if I could make it into a series of little supernatural novels all set around the same core. I'm also wondering if I want to propose them under a pseudonym so I don't have to fuss over whether they fit in with the picture books. I'm a bit concerned that people might get put off the one by the other. My picture books seem to come out manic and happy and like I've made them listening to Jazz music while drinking copious amounts of Coca-Cola, which is mostly true, while the novels read like I wrote them between waking up at dawn and quietly going back to sleep for another hour some time later, just to wake up a different person who grabs a cup of coffee and puts on the Jazz and gets painting dancing hamsters. Maybe they should have different names, for the readers' ease of comprehension.

Then I spent the rest of the morning reading the paper and actually starting to feel sorry for Paris Hilton. I wish they'd stop faffing her about and just stick her in prison - since reckless driving is a serious crime - with some really good support at hand - since she's losing it. - Somehow I always get distracted by celebrity breakdowns.

I went for a walk on Thursday to see new things, and came past a house that I notice every time when I go past on the bus to work - it's one in a long row of houses that all look the same, but it's different because someone covered the outside in animals. Animal statues and plaques, bolted to the walls and standing in the little front garden. I'd noticed briefly last time that now the garden is also covered in bunches of flowers, and when I walked past I saw that the iron fence of the front yard was smashed in completely, and there was a framed newspaper article fixed to a lamp-post detailing the story: a lady got crushed by a car in that yard, she was trying to scoop up her dog when she saw it coming. (She didn't manage to save the dog.) She was a few days away from her golden wedding anniversary and died leaving lots of family behind. - It's almost impossible to go for a walk in London without coming past a memorial site, but this one really got me, just because I'd actually sometimes wondered who lived in that funny house plastered with animals on that grey street.
Makes me feel a lot less sorry for Paris Hilton. And sort of glad that I don't hold a driving license. Cars worry me sometimes.

2 comments:

Steph said...

The Paris Hilton thing is story over there too??? I'm glad they stuck her in jail. She didn't just drive wrecklessly, she drove drunk. Her family tried to buy her out of jail...but fortunately, public sentinment and a decent judge got her back in. Money buys people all sorts of things it really shouldn't. Gerorge Bush got into Yale University with a "C" average...and money buys presidenncies also. Not who the best person for the job is, the one who has the most cash and can buy the best PR people etc. Package themselves and sell themselves...pimp themselves out. Back to Paris and Lindsy Lohan and all of those girls- what I wonder, is if you have that much money and you're going out drinking (and other things), why don't you hire a driver to drive you around?

I'm sorry about the lady with the dog. Life can turn on a dime. I think about that a lot.

I like the t-shirt.

Viviane Schwarz said...

Yep, I agree... it's pretty sad that anyone should raise such a ruckus about being put away for a good reason and not a very long time. She's all over the papers every day here, too, and every day I think: just show the lady some clear consequences, she seems to need that. Just box her up comfortably, like wintering a tortoise, if needs be. I wish they hadn't made such a hash of sending her back and forth... sounds like the judge was determined to make a point, and the guy in charge of the prison just didn't really want her there. You'd think they communicate, or something.

I always feel sort of vaguely sorry about (rather about than for) that whole bunch of celebrity beauties, like Britney, too (she dominated the papers for some time with her antics) - it's like first they get so much love from so many people, and then when it seems like all they need is someone to just give them a little room where they can cry and calm down, no one materialises. Either I really can't imagine what it's like to be that famous or the world is a bit rotten that way... I mean, someone must like them enough to actually do something useful, not just tie balloons to their front gate or try and throw money at the trouble to enable more wreckage? Isn't there anyone who could, I don't know, physically restrain them from getting into a car with no knickers and a bootful of booze on a regular basis??
Weird thing to keep thinking about, but it keeps irking me every time I see them sprawled over the front pages. Something definitely lacking there.