Archive | May, 2012

Balkansickness

28 May

The combination of the unusually hot weather and the Eurovision Song Contest are having an unlooked-for effect on me. I had hoped that the sun would cure me of my longing to go somewhere hot this year, but in fact I’m having the opposite reaction. All these experiences and sensations that I associate with Albania and Greece, rather than rainy Britain, are giving me a gut-deep yearning to be in the Balkans.

Walking down a street with the sun scorching my bare shoulders and the hot pavement cooking my feet takes me back to Lushnje. Iced coffee will always mean Greece to me. I can even order it in Greek, just the way I like it. The opening strains of the Greek Eurovision entry made me long for outdoor cafes with jangly music playing in the background. It wasn’t even a good song! Today I’m going to the beach (wearing shorts!), something I usually only do in Albania or Greece, either romantically with my husband, or chaotically with some of his millions of nieces and nephews.

It doesn’t help that hubbie is currently abroad due to a death in the family. This means a) that we won’t be able to go on holiday to Albania this year and b) that part of this yen for the Balkans is really a longing for him.

The Balkans aren’t heaven on earth, and there’s plenty I don’t like about Albania, Greece, Macedonia etc. When we move back there (as I hope we will) there will be plenty I’ll miss about the UK, too. So what I ought to do is appreciate Britain while I’ve got it – beach, shorts and all. Albania will still be there, and still be hot, next year.

Fancy a virtual trip to Albania? Try Leda, my novel set there.

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Happy 600th Birthday

19 May

Next month I will be going to a university reunion in St Andrews, so I’m in a bit of a state of nervous anticipation. It will probably be great fun but will certainly be a bit strange. I’m hoping that there are plenty of people I know, and worried that there won’t be, but the likelihood is that there will since you have literally scores of friends when you’re at uni.

I won’t tell you how many years it is since I graduated because it makes me feel old (I can still pass for 25 if you squint), but the University of St Andrews itself is 600 years old! Or 601, 0r 602, or 603, depending on how you count it. Things were a bit complicated at that point in the middle ages. Anyway, it’s been celebrating its 600th birthday over the last couple of years, and the culmination is this year, coinciding with my reunion and making me feel comparatively young.

One of the wonderful things about St Andrews, though (and I could write you a very long list) is that nothing really seems to change. A few months ago I saw a video by the St Andrews Christian Union and it looked so like the time that I was there, and all the people looked so similar, that I found myself expecting someone I knew to wander into shot. Then this week I discovered The Other Guys, a male voice choir, and their mash-up St Andrews Girls (based largely on California Girls by Katy Perry). There was one piece of slang that wasn’t around when I was there (“schweffing”), they seem to drink gin and juice rather than G&T (unless gin and juice just scanned better) and obviously the names of the bars have changed, but otherwise everything was exactly the same. Of course, the normal laws of physics don’t apply in the Bubble, so I shouldn’t really be surprised.

Anyway, I would invite you to have a look at St Andrews Girls by the Other Guys because

1) you can download it to support breast cancer charities

2) it’s hilarious if you know anything about St A’s – and pretty funny even if you don’t

3) these boys can really sing. Really. Some of them could, and should, go professional. You saw them here (or rather, on YouTube) first.

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Eleven Questions

4 May

I was looking at Peggy Strack’s blog and saw this “chain letter” style set of questions. I decided to copy, paste and answer them myself since I enjoy these things and they can be very revealing (in a good way, usually). Nothing is as revealing as “Do You Really Know Me?”, the very long and involved one that was circulating when I was a student (and had more time), but eleven questions is a manageable number, so feel free to copy, paste and join in.

1. What is your favorite color?
Blue. A boring answer, but not a boring colour. I particularly like the sky above North Street in St Andrews at near dusk when you can look from the pale, pale blue – almost white – where the light lingers in the west, right down the spectrum to the deep, inky blue above the ruined cathedral in the east.

2. If you got a plane ticket – for free – to go anywhere you’d like – where would you go?
Cuba. Sizzling hot, beautiful buildings, great cocktails, the best dancing in the world.

3. Is there anything in your life you always wanted to do and never had a chance to?
I have a strange desire to travel the length of Italy on a motorbike, with my husband, stopping whenever we feel like it and discovering places to eat and stay by pure chance. We don’t have the money, and by the time we do we’ll probably have kids or be too old and creaky to do it anyway.

4. Which is your favorite old movie (let’s say older than 20 years)?
I love old films. There are too many to list so I’ll just mention a couple of overlooked ones. The Incredible Shrinking Man (does what it says on the tin, basically, but has real pathos, a great leading man and a scary fight scene with a spider) and Q Planes, a thriller with Laurence Olivier. I LOVE this film, but no-one has seen it! It’s Olivier in one of his more light-hearted roles, and it’s all terribly, terribly British. “Goodbye, darling.”

5. If you were a blonde – would blonde jokes bother you (and, of course, if you are a blonde, do you mind them? )

I’m an ex-blonde, and I am still  blonde in my mind. Blonde jokes don’t bother me. I particularly like the one about the river:

Two blondes, one on either side of the river. The first blonde spots the other and calls out, “How do I get to the other side?” The second blonde looks puzzled and then replies, “You’re on the other side.”

6. What is it that always and with 100% certainty makes you laugh?
The Four Yorkshiremen sketch from Monty Python. It literally makes the tears roll down my cheeks.

7. Where do you usually put your clothes?
If I’m wearing them tomorrow, on a chair. If they’re dirty, in the washing basket. If I’m not wearing them tomorrow and they don’t need washed, in the drawer or wardrobe. Where does my husband leave his clothes? Everywhere!

8. Does wind bother you or do you like it?
Usually I like it and find it exhilarating, but I do hate what it does to my hair, and I particularly hate it when it blows the hair into my eyes and mouth, making me blind and unable to breathe. We had a couple of really bad storms in Scotland this year. One of them, Hurricane Bawbag, trended on Twitter. I was safe and warm indoors for most of it and I have to admit that I actually quite enjoyed them!

9. What is it that you hate most about high school reunions?
I’ve never been to one. I’ve got my university reunion coming up (St Andrews). I’m a wee bit nervous but I think it will be fun. It will also be my last chance in a while to wear a ball dress!

10. Are you a cat or a dog person?
Cat. Don’t like dogs.

11. Can movies/TV make you cry easily? When was the last time?
Oh yes. It’s quite embarrassing. My husband loves making fun of me as I blub away. I even cry at books.

An example: I was once reading a library copy of Gone With the Wind and noticed little roughnesses on the final pages. I didn’t know what they were, until I read a bit further. Then my tears started dripping on the page, too, and I understood. It was lovely to have that weird, distant sort of communion with other readers of that fantastic book.

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Happy

3 May

It’s now three months that I’ve been ‘living the dream’, as my ex-colleague Mark would put it, by which I mean I’ve ditched the office job and I am splitting my time between writing and looking after my baby niece. I realised from the start that it’s a great change, but I hadn’t realised quite how great until I met up with my friend Andy in Edinburgh.

I was in the capital to do a bit of interpreting, which I do very occasionally, and arranged to meet Andy on the way home, since it had been a while – such a while, in fact, that I hadn’t seen him since he got married, and he hadn’t heard about my book. We had a nice wee ice creamwith his new wife, sitting in Princes St Gardens  (my knowledge of Edinburgh isn’t great so I have to meet people in obvious places), and afterwards Andy commented on how happy I seemed. It took me a moment to work out what he meant.

The thing is, you see, that I used to meet Andy for a coffee after meetings in Edinburgh that were part of my office job, so I would spend the entire time moaning about my job, and he would spend far less time moaning about his job, because he is a kind and patient person. This time, we talked about books and theology and Andy’s job, but the usual topic of conversation was completely absent. I hadn’t noticed, but Andy had.

My current job is not all fun. The niece can be hard work, deadlines are stressful, there are a lot of things to juggle, and sometimes it’s a real chore to make myself sit in front of the computer and write. But these are legitimate challenges of an occupation – a career – I actually enjoy. I can contemplate the future with optimism rather than dread. I am, in short, happy.

 

You can buy Leda and (Office Life and Death) on Amazon – or wherever else you choose.