Was looking up at the sky the other night. It dawns on me every now and again just how far away they all are, and that what we are looking at, isn't even how they look right now. We're seeing what they looked like hundreds or thousands(?) of years ago. By looking at the stars you're actually looking into the past in a way. Its amazing really :)

I read this in The Times today, thought most of it was pretty accurate :-)
...................................................................

Young Britain – nation of selves but not necessarily selfish
By Damian barr

ME, ME, ME. That’s what the iGeneration is all about. We are limited edition, exclusive and one-off. We are iPod-loving children of Thatcher. Our clothes are customised. Our hotels boutique. Even our bodies are bespoke. We put ourselves before our country and worship in gyms — not churches. We’re fit and, my gosh, don’t we know it.
Our Britain is a nation of selves. But this cult of the self is not necessarily selfish.

We’re actually very generous. Conveniently most charities now take plastic and for us, dropping change in a tin is more meaningful than popping a paper in a ballot box. As a form of direct action we rate donating over voting.

We’re equally generous when it comes to respect. We attach cache to being different. Monoculture is, like, so over — we love Christina Aguilera way more than all-American Britney. Each generation is, of course, more tolerant than the last. We feel Britain is more tolerant than ever. Which is why most — but crucially not all — of us are proud to be British.

Our parents reeled at that kiss in Corrie. But we wanted Todd and the hot male nurse to get it on. We mob Pride — not because we’re gay but because the music’s good. We believe in a woman’s right to choose and feel all couples should share the same rights. We kind of don’t get why they don’t already.

This year’s Big Brother final was the latest inter-generational face-off. Fun transsexual foreigner with big mouth versus dull straight man with big muscles. Nadia’s win was our triumph. Our parents were shocked to find oranges were not the only fruit and now teens are reading Julie Burchill’s Sugar Rush — a working-class lesbian teen romp. Tipping the shellsuit. No publisher would have dared take such a risk before now.

But contradiction is not just a scent by Calvin Klein. It is the other defining characteristic of the iGeneration. We’d legalise getting caned on cannabis while bringing back the cane. We believe in an after-life but avoid church (except for weddings). We owe more money than our parents did at our age but expect to be richer than them by the time we start going to bars where we can hear ourselves think.

Most of us have a close friend of a different colour and believe them trustworthy enough to marry. Yet less than half of us think immigration is a good thing. Age still brings with it experience. As the drunken 21st becomes a distant memory we switch from alcopops to wine and from theoretical ideals to practical principles. These are based more on events than emotions. Compared with our parents, we have had to deal with way more way sooner: sex, drugs and debt. Which is why we’re busy having a quarterlife crisis. Researching my book I found twenty-somethings looking and acting older than their years: a third claim to be putting one tenth of salary into a pension. More than half of us still believe it’s realistic to go through life with just one partner. Despite the fact that J-Lo has had more weddings than Madonna has had farewell tours. Still fewer women than men will admit to one-night stands.

And we’re oddly coy about online porn—just over half of us admit looking at it. This seems unlikely given that you can slip into a porn spiral by Googling something as innocent as a jug. It’s like saying you’ve never glanced at the top shelf in the newsagents. Only the really short or very blind can honestly claim this.

The self is absolutely at the centre of the iGeneration. But we’re not self-centred. We are a disparate demographic bound together by our individualism. We put on our own mask before helping others. Issues motivate us more than parties. We download singles not albums. So what if it is all about me? I like me. I just happen to like you too.

Damian Barr is author of Get It Together: Surviving Your Quarterlife Crisis

woah, tried to post something about the lake district but it sent blogger a bit mad. It had a picture and everything!

Oh well. Another time perhaps.

The lake distrct is a very beautiful place...



see! That's Windemere. The huge hills and lakes make you feel so small and insignificant (or even smaller for me!).

I liked it there :-)

Been very lazy with posting lately, sorry about that.
Well, my 'inspiring' day wasn't very inspiring at all since I had to get some stuff and didn't actually have much time to think and take in my surroundings, but I do actually feel a little better...a little more creative. Just needed time I suppose.

Still feeling horribly unfit and eugh though. Need to step up the exercise.

I need inspiring. Will do something I used to do a lot more often, on Monday i think. See where it takes me.

ps. I know in the last post I said I had more to say, but, um, I can't remember what it was **blushes**...lost somewhere in the pathways of neurons running through my head. If I ever remember I won't procrasinate and will write it down stright away -promise! :-)

Daddy's home! :-) He's got quite a bit of time off so has spent the past couple of days at home. Reckon he'll pop into work at some point though, he rarely stays away for too long.

Yesterday my dad and I attempted to make "khasta roti" (think thats how you spell it!).....basically a type of chappati. Now you see, there's something about rotis (chappatis), in that in order to be considered a 'proper/good indian girl', you're supposed to be able to cook these things. (at least in my family).

With a little instruction from my dad (he knows the theory since he spent his childhood watching his mother/grandmother make then 3 times a day), and my minimal experience (from my grandma showing me a few times when i've gone to india)...........we made some. And not only that...they were round, and edible!

I'm aware that this sounds very trivial and ridiculous (maybe becuase it is?), but that was actually quite exciting for half a day. Mostly because its started to dawn on me lately that my knowledge of cooking is very limited. I can cook pasta and stuff...and know in theory what to do with meat and all sorts of other things, but I've just never cooked properly on a regular basis from fresh ingredients. When that happens in my house, my mum is generally cooking indian food and wants me out of the kitchen to get out of her way, which is fair enough I suppose.

Don't need to learn everything straight away...I know the basics and could survive if all processed food was suddenly stopped and there was only fresh ingredients, i think. (maybe they should do that for a week or 2 to see how people cope. hmm.)......but would like to learn a bit i think while i'm a layabout student.

wow, that was quite a long post. Haven't even said all I want to say. Will save the rest for tomorrow I think :-) Adieu xx

I don't seem to write as much as I used to. Its not that I don't want to, but it just isn't coming as easily these days. The words and poems just used to flow out naturally, but now when I write, they feel forced, which to me makes them sound forced.

Just a phase or something I'm sure. Maybe need a new perspective. Same thing has happened with my painting. I want to paint but its just not happening. Lack of inspiration or something probably. Guess I've been too focused on other things and people these past couple of months. Hmm.

I don't know.

I ran my dogs instead of walking them today. Only up and down a field, but better than nothing. Really need to get back into shape, feel icky now.

Better food, more exercise needed.

ps. Rain really is very pretty.