Rin Okumura
2 years ago
Friday 31 July 2009
Summer, summer, where fore art thou summer?
The Met office has re-forcast for a miserable summer. See previous post on the BBC's ability to use reverse psychology on mother nature. I love to say I told you so.
The South Coast of England
You may remember a while ago I posted about a whim I'd had to take up photography. Well apparently it wasn't a whim as I was still thinking about it weeks later. After some initial research I was disappointed to discover a) how expensive SLR cameras are and b) how expensive photography courses are. When I can barely afford to eat, this really isn't a valid expense so my plan to become a photographer had been put on hold.
And then out of no-where my wonderful dad has lent me his (very retro, yet very cool) SLR camera! Wow, who knew he even had one?! It's all very exciting. It has a lot of different settings that I've yet to get to grips with (the course is still not an option and anyway, practice makes perfect, no?) but the first week I had it I was snap happy. Snap snap snapping everything! So here you are, a few shots from my first ever attempt with the new old camera:
The Eden Project
The Eden Project
Tea Rooms in Padstow - these reminded me of Alice in Wonderland
Very Kitchse!
Drake's Island, Plymouth
And then out of no-where my wonderful dad has lent me his (very retro, yet very cool) SLR camera! Wow, who knew he even had one?! It's all very exciting. It has a lot of different settings that I've yet to get to grips with (the course is still not an option and anyway, practice makes perfect, no?) but the first week I had it I was snap happy. Snap snap snapping everything! So here you are, a few shots from my first ever attempt with the new old camera:
The Eden Project
The Eden Project
Tea Rooms in Padstow - these reminded me of Alice in Wonderland
Very Kitchse!
The mist over Plymouth Sound
Drake's Island, Plymouth
The Wish
A wish bumped in to me today
It sought me out amongst all the air
No other soul was to be seen
So easily it could have passed by me
Instead, before my eyes it flew
Before landing gently on my waiting palm
When my hand had lifted I wasn't sure
But waiting to collect it was
Upon touch I instantly knew
This wish was meant for you
Friday 3 July 2009
Guess we'll never know
As much as I hate to admit it, I had a cynical opinion about the standard of the final MJ tour. I wasn't sure how he'd be able to emulate his previous shows or how he was going to meet thousands upon thousands of people's expectations being the legend that he is. But this rehearsal footage makes me think I would have been wrong. I nearly cried watching this, consumed in the tragedy of it all.
Thursday 2 July 2009
Going courting!
When the mobile phone was invented it made winning the affections of a girl somewhat less daunting. No longer did men have to sit on the settee with the rest of the family for an hour or two in the evening, subtly being quizzed by protective parents (especially protective dads) only to retire home having spoken only a few words to the object of their affections (OOA) with the prospect of many a repeat performance to endure before one could hope for a sweet kiss in the doorway at the end of the evening. Actually I’m not sure they had to do this before the mobile phone was invented but they definitely had to do it before the phone was invented. Definitely.
Courting. It’s such a sweet word. It readily brings back distant but crystal clear memories of my childhood. No, not because I went courting when I was a little girl but because my childhood was filled with hours spent watching wonderful musicals with songs like “Going Courting” in them (that’s from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers in case you’re interested – it’s amazing). I remember when my parents or grandparents used to use it when they were trying to get out of me who I was seeing at various points throughout my teenage years. But being 16, this word seemed so unbelievably ancient, cobwebby and un-cool that it made me want to be sick. Now it seems so full of innocence and so nostalgic; funny how things change the older you get!
Anyway back to my point (there is one here somewhere, I promise). After the mobile phone was invented, men could just call their OOA and arrange meetings without all the hassle of pretending to (in most cases) be a gentleman and also avoid the scrutiny of protective parents. This was fine. It suited all parties involved. At the end of an encounter with a prospective OOA a guy would ask for their phone number and then take it from there.
Was this not casual and easy enough? Apparently not. Not now that Facebook has been invented. Things have become so casual now that a guy seems to think that no effort needs to be input at all and a Facebook friendship can be formed instantaneously. I’m possibly being slightly harsh as I’m sure there are men out there that enjoy the more traditional way to a girl’s heart (come on, there’s got to be at least 1 or 2?) I’ve been formulating this conclusion recently stemming from a guy I went on a date with a couple of weeks ago who at the end of our first date asked if we could be Facebook friends (I said no, he has my number, he can call me and subsequently I haven’t heard from him but that’s another story). But this hypothesis was confirmed today when a guy stopped me on the way back into my office. He stopped me with 1 statement
“Good evening beautiful”.
I know, I know, this is lame and a lot of you will also note it as unoriginal but I’m kind of a traditionalist when it comes to these things in case you haven't already guessed and so this kind of thing will usually tease my curiosity and also, how rude is it if you don’t at least acknowledge it!? So I turn to smile but keep on walking.
“I’ve seen you around and always wanted to tell you that I think you’re beautiful”.
Is he really talking to me? I’ve been in work sat hunched over my desk, only stopping for loo breaks, for about 11 hours, I have no make-up on and am wearing a ridiculous maxi dress that trips me up every step I take. I imagine these factors actually make me look like a comatose troll with one foot. But adhering to my previous point about being rude, I at least stop now and turn around. I have never seen this guy before (so it’s kinda creepy that he says he’s seen me around).
“Can I add you on Facebook” is the next instalment of his chat up line.
Is he kidding? No! of course he can’t add me on Facebook! So that’s what I say.
“Why not?” he asks.
I don’t want to be rude and so coming up with a valid reason without being rude has sort of stumped me.
“Because I don’t know you…?” comes my weak reply.
“Warren, my name is Warren. Now you do.” I manage to get myself out of it with some ramblings about a name being a word and friendship is at least based on conversation which I really don’t have time for right now. Phew.
I don’t want a prospective date to be able to see everything about me, all my friends, all my drunken photos, all my stupid updates. Not before we’ve even gone on a date! Although I guess maybe they’re being quite clever in being able to veto any girls whose Facebook personalities don’t match their ideal. Hmmm, maybe men are actually on to something. No, that would be weird, I’m sure they’re just lazy.
So has dating really come to this? I hope not otherwise as well as clearing out my phone of number of guys that haven’t worked out (they barely make it passed 1 or 2 dates at the moment) I’m going to have to start de-cluttering my facebook as well.
Courting. It’s such a sweet word. It readily brings back distant but crystal clear memories of my childhood. No, not because I went courting when I was a little girl but because my childhood was filled with hours spent watching wonderful musicals with songs like “Going Courting” in them (that’s from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers in case you’re interested – it’s amazing). I remember when my parents or grandparents used to use it when they were trying to get out of me who I was seeing at various points throughout my teenage years. But being 16, this word seemed so unbelievably ancient, cobwebby and un-cool that it made me want to be sick. Now it seems so full of innocence and so nostalgic; funny how things change the older you get!
Anyway back to my point (there is one here somewhere, I promise). After the mobile phone was invented, men could just call their OOA and arrange meetings without all the hassle of pretending to (in most cases) be a gentleman and also avoid the scrutiny of protective parents. This was fine. It suited all parties involved. At the end of an encounter with a prospective OOA a guy would ask for their phone number and then take it from there.
Was this not casual and easy enough? Apparently not. Not now that Facebook has been invented. Things have become so casual now that a guy seems to think that no effort needs to be input at all and a Facebook friendship can be formed instantaneously. I’m possibly being slightly harsh as I’m sure there are men out there that enjoy the more traditional way to a girl’s heart (come on, there’s got to be at least 1 or 2?) I’ve been formulating this conclusion recently stemming from a guy I went on a date with a couple of weeks ago who at the end of our first date asked if we could be Facebook friends (I said no, he has my number, he can call me and subsequently I haven’t heard from him but that’s another story). But this hypothesis was confirmed today when a guy stopped me on the way back into my office. He stopped me with 1 statement
“Good evening beautiful”.
I know, I know, this is lame and a lot of you will also note it as unoriginal but I’m kind of a traditionalist when it comes to these things in case you haven't already guessed and so this kind of thing will usually tease my curiosity and also, how rude is it if you don’t at least acknowledge it!? So I turn to smile but keep on walking.
“I’ve seen you around and always wanted to tell you that I think you’re beautiful”.
Is he really talking to me? I’ve been in work sat hunched over my desk, only stopping for loo breaks, for about 11 hours, I have no make-up on and am wearing a ridiculous maxi dress that trips me up every step I take. I imagine these factors actually make me look like a comatose troll with one foot. But adhering to my previous point about being rude, I at least stop now and turn around. I have never seen this guy before (so it’s kinda creepy that he says he’s seen me around).
“Can I add you on Facebook” is the next instalment of his chat up line.
Is he kidding? No! of course he can’t add me on Facebook! So that’s what I say.
“Why not?” he asks.
I don’t want to be rude and so coming up with a valid reason without being rude has sort of stumped me.
“Because I don’t know you…?” comes my weak reply.
“Warren, my name is Warren. Now you do.” I manage to get myself out of it with some ramblings about a name being a word and friendship is at least based on conversation which I really don’t have time for right now. Phew.
I don’t want a prospective date to be able to see everything about me, all my friends, all my drunken photos, all my stupid updates. Not before we’ve even gone on a date! Although I guess maybe they’re being quite clever in being able to veto any girls whose Facebook personalities don’t match their ideal. Hmmm, maybe men are actually on to something. No, that would be weird, I’m sure they’re just lazy.
So has dating really come to this? I hope not otherwise as well as clearing out my phone of number of guys that haven’t worked out (they barely make it passed 1 or 2 dates at the moment) I’m going to have to start de-cluttering my facebook as well.
And for your amusement, here's a few clips from Seven Brides...played to the "Going Courting" song. Yes, I've watched this well over 100 times! (Is it any wonder I'm a traditionalist?! N.B. boys, I don't reccommend the kidnapping of OOAs!
Wednesday 1 July 2009
The official summer read
Everyone has to buy this book. Yes, even if you are a boy - buy it for your girlfriend/sister/mum or just read it and get an insight into a girl's deepest dating desires. If you're a girl, read it and revel in the shopping, boys, and disasters that become a 20 something year old who is trying to find out how the hell life and love works - something we can all relate to no doubt! It's written by my friend and colleague Lindsey who is actually moving to NY in like 2 weeks. I'll refrain from using superlatives but what a lucky lucky girl! 
We went to The Diner just off Carnaby Street on Saturday morning for a NY style brunch to celebrate the book being published - Oh it was amazing. Pancakes and milkshakes and eggs Benedict. Feeding off the book, I then went for a shopping spree in Carnaby street's vintage shops and boutiques, I could have easily blown my whole month's wages. If it wasn't for that recent program on the TV about homelessness I would have happily sacrificed a month's rent for the most beautiful shoes I've ever seen.I haven't been shopping in ages and I had forgotten the rush of adrenaline I get when I take something to the counter to pay for it. It's like being in some sort of exclusive club shopping in vintage shops. the only problem is that I think you have to get dressed up to do it, to prove you belong to this 'I can take this old ratty dress and turn it into something spectacular' club. But I love it. It's like I'm someone completely different or it unleashes a side of me that seems to rarely make an appearance recently. I love carrying on the charade as I walk away and down the bustling, sunny streets of London and imagine what my life would be like if I did have an endless supply of money to spend on clothes and shoes and accessories and life. I imagine the outfits I would put together (of course in my fantasy I'm about a stone lighter as I can afford to buy the healthiest foods and hire a personal trainer), the clubs I'd go to, the drinks I'd drink, the holidays I'd go on, the way I'd decorate my house...The dream continues right up to where I get into my house and face last night's washing up and the overflowing bin full of last night's rice concoction. Sigh. It was fun while it lasted.
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