Protests.....

Whilst most of the pictures coming out of the news on Egypt look a bit like this

and here is a picture taken by a friend of mine -

i'd like to also show a couple of pictures taken by another

friend of mine which show a different side of protests

After finishing my last post on tuesday just before all the protests and rioting began,

i pretty much havent left home.

What i know from the protests are pictures and news reports.

Although, living just a few minutes from Tahrir Square (where the main protests are being held) and just of Kasr El Ein, one of the main streets leading up to the Square,

if i stood out on my balcony on tuesday

i could see the masses of people at the end of my road.

I could hear the noises all night long.

The chanting, the shouting, the sirens.

Here is a video which takes place directly at the bottom of my road

Some better, differing accounts,

of what took place on the street can be read

here and here by fellow friends of mine.

Yesterday,

things seemed quieter.

With the main crowd having been dispersed.

But i see on the news that there is still a lot of unrest around.

i tried to venture out the house again to head to work.

Normally i take the metro and have to change onto a connecting line underneath Tahrir Square that takes me to the Opera House, but the station was closed. I returned to the main road next to my house to catch a taxi, but in the 15 minutes that i had been in the metro station the streets which had been relatively policeman free a few moments before where now been blocked up again.

It made me feel uncomfortable and i headed straight back home again.

I'll try again today.

Barricaded.....

So two post in one day,

this must be a first for me.

But after leaving the house after writing the last post to head to work,

i promptly returned back home and barricaded myself indoors.

I've tried to call my Director to tell her i'm not coming in

but couldnt get through so have called a friend who lives on the other side of town

to tell her that i'm not venturing out today.

Why?

Because it appears that there is some sort of revolution

happening at the bottom of my street.

Okay, revolution maybe a slightly dramatic word,

but it sounds way better than super big protest.

(some background details....)

At any rate i left my house to head to the metro station

only to find my street blocked off by about 30 police men in their finest

'you aint gonna pass me' outifits, ie. shields, helmets truncheons....

Thinking that i could just walk to the next station along

i started down the main road,

only to see every road blocked off in a similar manner,

then i realised that it was pretty much just me

and the policemen on the street and was eerily quiet.

I freaked out and headed quickly home.

Since then things have picked up,

i can hear a lot of shouting and police sirens.

I just peaked out from my balcony and they seem to be marching

down the bottom of the street,

not turning down it, so i think all is well.

Its times like this i wish i was a tortoise

and could hide in my shell...

(pictures from bbc.co.uk news website)

A nail biting experience....

Until about 2 years ago i was a chronic nail biter.

Not even noticing it,

my fingers were always in my mouth,

being chewed away on.

After years of trying to stop i suddenly came to a realisation.

I enjoy biting my nails.

It gave me something to do in boring situations,

or if i was slightly hungry it could keep my occupied until some real food came along.

I know this is going to sound very wrong,

as being a nail biter in todays society is deemed a bad thing.

I've spent years constantly being told by people,

strangers and friends,

to get my fingers out my mouth,

what a dirty habit it was ect. ect.

For years i took it....

humbly shook my head in remission when i was being told

for the umpteenth time about my terrible habit.

But then i decided, nope.....

i wasnt going to take it any more,

i was going to declare my nail biting love.....

so i did.

I would tell my smoker friend as she dragged away on her cigarette lecturing

me on the evils of nail biting that at least my bad habit wasnt proven to kill me.

But then i stopped,

not through trying i would like to add

(many year s of that had failed),

in fact, i had my wisdom teeth pulled out and it was too painful for a long time

to do any form of chewing....

and my nails grew,

and i discovered my love for now being able to

paint them in bright colours.

Anyhows,

i brought this subject up because i had a

sneaky little nibble the other day,

and i thoroughly enjoyed it.

And i'm currently weighing up my love of bright nail colours

and of nail biting....

i tell you its a fine line......

but whilst i'm in debate i call out to all those nail biters in the world.

Don't be ashamed....

Don't stand the repression....

Be proud!

Chew on!

crying.....

image

Yesterday i was tired up to the point of exhaustion.

My legs were wobbling like jelly trying to keep my body standing upright.

'Again!'

she shouted at me in Russian,

a language i can barely comprehend and cannot speak.

It was just the beginning of the day,

and my legs got tired-er and tired-er

and i wanted to tell her i couldnt go on,

but didnt.

And things just got worse from there on in as i tried to push through

the barrier of exhaustion.

And i cried.

And it felt good.

And it reminded of a quote from one of my favourite movies,

"but what do you do?

You laugh.

I'm not saying i don't cry,

but inbetween, i laugh.

I realise how silly it is to take everything too seriously.

Plus, I look forward to a good cry - it feels good"

The Garden State

so today i'm trying to laugh.

Stuck in the pages....

Today at work i was all over the place.

I should be turning left, i turn right.

My arms should be up, they are down.

And why?

Because although i was there in body,

my mind was still immersed in the pages of the novel i'm reading.

I couldnt disconnect and bring myself back to the real world.

I was dreaming of Lord Orville

and hoping that Sir Willoughby will not come

between the future happiness of Evelina and Lord Orville.

If you like a good Jane Austen style book

i'm highly recommending Evelina by Fanny Burney.

and since it was written long before Austen came on the scene

i like to imagne that she read it and it became the inspiration for future Mr. Darcy's.

But gotta go....

only a few pages left....

So Exciting!

When I was 18.....

My littlest sister turned 17 the other day,

i couldnt believe it!

i skyped her for her birthday,

at first i didnt know who it was because you was wearing a cow-pyjamas onesie

(complete with udders)......

at any rate, it got me reminiscing about myself when i was younger...

to be more precise i started thinking about me the me i was

when i was 18.

When i was 18

i left my dance college i was at in Scotland

and told my parents that i needed to move to London

as it was the only place where i could further my career.

My dad took me to the train station.

Before we went he put on his best suit,

I asked him why he had changed,

'Because i dont have enough money to pay for a train ticket'

So we went to the train station and he smiled at the sales assistant

and paid for my ticket with a cheque he knew would bounce.

When i got on the train i hadn't arranged for a place

to stay when i arrived in London,

but halfway there i gave a phonecall to a friend of mine

who i hadnt seen in a couple of years and lived just outside London.

I told him i was moving to London and that i needed

a place to stay whilst i sorted things out.

'Sure, no problem, when are you coming?'

'I think my train gets in in about 3 hours'

He laughed and told me he would pick me up at the station.

I marvel at my 18 year old self,

the dreams, determination and aspirations that i had.

I wasnt scared about moving to London.

I was scared

about what would become of me if i didnt jump

on the train that day and try to start finding myself a career in London.

I was scared

of being too comfortable and secure at my college

and knowing what was ahead of me if i kept on that path.

It scared me so much i got onto a train to London with no money and no place to stay.

And those two years in London were the hardest two years of my life so far.

So many rejections, so much lost hope, so crushing,

I became an introverted shell of my former self.

I went to an interview once where the director

asked me what i had been doing with myself lately,

'Nothing'

was all i could think to say,

He gave a second chance tried to prod me get me to expand,

but that was what i felt at the time,

my life was nothing.

But I was strong and pulled through and the outcome was shiny.

I dont think that 26year old me would have such strength or determination.

I marvel at the things that i did.

They seem so young and naive yet so brave and so bold.

I think this mixture can only be achieved at the age of 18.

But then again,

maybe i'll look back one day and say

the same things about 26 year old me.

Del-Boys Castle

I'll admit when i moved to Egypt i didnt cry

at leaving behind my family or friends,

but i did shed a tear or two over leaving

behind my pet tortoise, Del-Boy.

But we've been having regular skype chats

where she gives me looks down the web cam a bit like this-

and then walks over the keyboard leaving me messages a bit like this-

asdlfkjaoweipjfasdklfape

(which translated from tortoise means i miss you mummy)

But now Del-Boy has been on the move and travelled all the way back to the Uk.

I was a little bit mad at Captain Tim for taking

her without making the correct preparations

(ie. a new tortoise house for her to live in)

but on Christmas day i received a wonderful

surprise that he had spent his whole day building Del-Boy a Castle.

isn't it the cutest little thing!

it has little sunflowers painted on it as they are Del-Boys (and my) favourite flower.

There is also a Christmas tree so that Del-Boy can celebrate Christmas,

and a Lemon Tree, so she can sing a song to it.

Book or Movie?

I wanted to post this song,

The Curse by Josh Ritter.

Previously i had only ever heard it,

but when i went to youtube to look up the video i discovered that the music

video for it is exceedingly cute too....

but then i was in two minds as to what to actually post.

You see when i first heard the song i didnt know what

it was about and the unfolding of the story in my mind

and i mainly enjoyed the realisation as to what it was actually referring to.

The music video, although charmingly beautiful requires no use of the imagination,

so here is the book version,

and here is the movie.....

The Neverending Story.....

'Bastian had shown the lion the inscription on the reverse side of the Gem. 'What do you suposse it means?' he asked. DO WHAT YOU WISH, that must mean i can do anything i feel like. Dont you think so?'

All at once Grograman's face looked alarmingly grave and his eyes glowed.

'no,' he said in his deep rumbling voice. 'It means that you must do what you really and truly want. And nothing is more difficult.'

'What i really and truly want?' What do you mean by that?'

'It's your own deepest secret and you yourself don't know it'

'How can I find out?'

'By going the way of your wishes, from one to another, from first to last. It will take you to what you really want.'

'That doesn't sound so hard,' said Bastian.

'It is the mst dangerous of all journeys.'

'Why?' asked Bastian, 'I'm not afraid.'

'That isn't it' Grograman rumbled, 'I requires the greatest honesty and vigilance, because there is no other journey on which its so easy to loose yourself forever.'

Michael Ende

Backstage at the Ballet...

Another year,

another Nutcracker.....

But boy am i glad to stage dancing to see the New Year in,

seeing as things were looking pretty bleak 6 months ago.

And look at all the fun i'm having....

Feliz Ano Nuovo....

This December 31st I welcomed in the year 1991 from Spain.

I learned the Spanish tradition of popping a grape

into my mouth with every dong that the clock struck

on the video that we pulled off of youtube,

which happened to be from Madrid when they were welcoming in 1991.

Perhaps it wasn't particularly midnight at that precise moment

here in Egypt,

but we figured that seeing as we were celebrating 1991,

which has already been and gone at any rate,

it didnt really matter.

Then perhaps i got a phonecall from a boy

who had walked up to the top of a hill in the snow and the dark

hundreds of miles away

to get reception on his phone so he could wish me a happy new year.

Perhaps that was the best welcome

into the new year that i have ever had.

Perhaps he called me back a few minutes later

to say he couldnt find his way home in the dark

and that he was sure he could hear wolves howling.

hmmmm.....

I havent heard from him since....

uhoh!