My Diary by Mio Matsumoto

On the train this morning, and in the sun at lunch time I read a darling, adorable, heartfelt, funny, terrifying, ever-so-sad, wonderful book.

My Diary by Mio Matsumoto

It is set out landscape and hand written, drawings which remind me of David Shrigley are sweet and integral to the storytelling. There is a hint of english-as-a-second-language in her phrasing which ... only adds to the air of intimacy.

I am trying my best to get this out without using the word WHIMSY. Because this book is about Cancer. Tongue cancer and heartbreak in a girl of 25. So. Not the cheeriest subject in the world (but true true true. It is her Diary after all) but it is told in such a forthright and personal manner, from denial to fear to demanding of her doctor that she not wait another week for treatment, that more than being sad, you just want Mio to survive and fall in love and kiss, a LOT. Because she seems sweet, she seems like someone you would like to be friends with.

Oo! AND! She has a Blog! Mio's Page. It is all all (pretty much) all in Japanese.

(and p.s. She beats cancer.)

Working Again, Finally.

The view from Reception.


My favourite moment today: I was walking to the train station after work*, in a light warm spring rain, with the unmistakable, incongruous smell of toast in the air.


*Phew! I have a temping assignment for the next fortnight at least.

Down the Rabbit Hole

I heart Flickr!
According to the smarties at Flickr and Yahoo, here are the searches and subsequent photos that have lead people to me ...

Perseus and Andromeda



Baby Broken Nose



A Bale of Turtles



14th Century Churchyard



Okay, it's 19th Century but whatever.

"Me as a baby"



Self Injury



ick. This one must come up as it is tagged injury as in I fell down and hurt my leg, and self as in a photo of myself. me myself and I.
I'm going to have to re tag them all as Sarah instead of Self. I don't mind so much the people who "favourite" a photo of me in a scarf and then I find out that ALL their favourites are girls wearing scarves because, as long as they don't try and contact me, it's just harmless self gratification I guess. But this? I don't want to enable self harm or those who get off on that.

Family Tattoo



Stung by a Jellyfish





People are Strange. Flickr is interesting.

Two Years Ago Today

Ceci n'est pas Google

Happy Magritte's Birthday!

Oh English Language, you crack me up.

- Excerpt from The Adventure of the Speckled Band by Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle

Unemployment is hilarious

My temping work has temporarily dried up (sob) and in between frantically applying for permanent positions (fingers crossed!) I have been working on a Stitch'd Ink cross stitch kit.



When I was asking my grandma about borrowing an embroidery ring, I told her that it needed to be large as it was a portrait of a woman standing up. I didn't mention the lack of clothing.



And on top of the cross stitch? I actually, swear-to-everything, made lemonade!
In fact I made Lemon-Vanilla-Honey-Ade from a recipe I found here.



Inside a Black Apple's Lemonade

To Make One Reasonably sized pitcher (serves 6-ish):

1. Make a simple syrup by stirring together 3/4 c of sugar and 1 c water in a small saucepan on low heat, remove when sugar is dissolved
2. Meanwhile, juice about 5 good-sized lemons directly into your pitcher (reserve half your lemon-left-over peels and such)
3. Cool the syrup slightly, and then stir together with the concentrated lemon juice.
At this point I added in a couple of tablespoons of runny-honey. Because I'm basically obsessed with it.
Throw in a teaspoon or so of vanilla and give the whole thing a good stir.
4. Fill 3/4 of the pitcher with cool water.
5. If you're like Emily, toss about 1/2 your juiced-lemon wedges back into the pitcher. I love the taste that it gives! (I just threw in a couple of the least seed-y lemon halves).
6.Serve over tall glasses full to the brim with ice.



I feel absolutely ridiculous!
I should be wearing pearls and heels and a full skirted dress.
In short, I feel like I'm in the 1950s. Bizarre.

Two things I learned today

1. If a laptop refuses to turn on, it isn't being petulant, it's probably dead.*

2. It is harder than you think to find lace leggings and or tights in Wellington in November.

* sad, but true. Craig's PC is R-ing.I.P.

Madame Macabre

In March this year Craig bought me an itsy bitsy teeny weeny skull necklace with twinkling diamond eyes.



And when I showed it to a girl I worked with in London her response was Oh, you're into all of that are you? and then my head exploded.

But while packing up my jewellery and moving it halfway back around the globe, I realised that Yea. I am into All of That. I of course don't see what the problem is!
I think nowadays people may think that people are desensitised to death, horror, and the macabre, but I believe that it has become so that it is only acceptable in a horrific arena. In the nineteenth century and earlier people were painted holding skulls as a reminder of their own mortality, which may seem a depressing way to live and a reaction to short life expectancy but I see it as a reiteration of the idea that we, all of us, human existence in general, are here for all too too brief a time and we should make the most of the fleeting instants we have. But then again, I was the one reading books about decomposition as a pre teen. So maybe it is just my twisted tastes.

Of course I then proceeded to take photographic evidence of my macabre jewellery collection.

A quick disclaimer! I don't wear all these pieces together. Unless it's halloween. Though it would be amusing. Or terrifying.
And yet another disclaimer! I own a lot of jewellery. I do. It's almost a problem. So this is not anywhere near half of the jewellery I own (okay, it might be 1/3) and is merely just the macabre or more unusual pieces in my collection.

Okay. Let's proceed.

Skull Jewellery













(I love how his little nose is an upside down heart!)








Snake Jewellery






Hearts and Tears



(Made from real human hair)




Fang Jewellery












And hey, it's not like it's all huge and gaudy.

Well. Except for ...





I picked up this adorable rat ring in the Camden Market. I wore it on the tube home and it was one of the very few times anyone ever interacted with me on the tube (without being drunk and or hitting on me).




And, P.s. I promise to get over my obscene macro love soon. Soon.

My Heart Belongs To ...

pin by Love from Hetty and Dave, Thames Festival, London