I’m still trying to get over the awfulness of Sunday’s blog title. I was very sleepy that day and struggled to think of anything smart, but still… I feel like the rockstar in that Private Eye sketch, and it’s icky.
Anyway, back to good vibes.
I noticed today that Indifferent Ignorance has had 1200 comments. About half of those are mine, because I try to respond to everyone, but that’s quite cool, especially because as of Sunday I had written 400 posts (wish I’d known that at the time).
I’ve also got about 100 drafts.
Cool huh.
Right, onto a simultaneous piece of art and indifferent ignorance! I’ve been thinking that I should share more art on here, and as it happens this piece is perfect. Basically I saw The Imitation Game on Sunday and it is brilliant and blew my mind both in terms of this dude pretty much invented the computer and civil rights were fucking bullshit back in the day.
One thing I missed a lot while I was at school in the last couple of years was the ability to blog more than twice a week. I used to be able to spend two-plus hours on a post almost every other day, find any old shit on Google for a picture then start a comment thread about MCR fanfiction… those were simpler times indeed.
On the plus side, having very little time to post made me quite good at saving links and images for later use, which makes the whole posting shenanigans a lot easier and prevents last-minute flustering.
From cantseemtofind.tumblr.com
Fun fact: I haven’t actually finished reading The Hobbit. So far I’ve seen both film adaptations before reading the book and I must say it was quite nice not finding fault with every deviance from the original. I felt like a lay reader, for once, and not aninvested fan. It was quite relaxing.
I’m starting to remember why I haven’t delved back into thrice-a-week posting sooner.
What did I talk about back in the day?!
Maybe I should do what Krista over at Effing Dykes did quite a bit, which was have reoccurring, specific posts like how to spot a certain ‘type’ of lesbian or Kelly Has a Question, which was basically Educating Straight People 101.
I just read through a couple of posts there and thought “shit I’m going to have to mention that there’s some pretty NSFW stuff over there”. Then I thought “who cares there aren’t any six-year-olds here.”
Then I thought “what if there are?”
What if there are? I could be ruining childhoods simply by swearing! Or what if I get back into journalism and decide to discuss serious topics more often than the Six O’Clock News? Or with more grim detail than usual? What if the internal battle between Stiff Upper Lipped and Quite British Francesca and Feminist Writer Francesca is won by the latter and I start discussing PMS? Or, worse, what if I start using this place as a diary and divulging the people whom I find attractive?
Actually that’s gross because while people may need to know the specifics of gang rape – or PMS – in order to function in society, no one needs to know who I do or don’t find attractive.
But still. What if there are young-ish people here? Should I curb my language or something?! I probably won’t, but still.
The most difficult thing about having a blog (or website, as it is now known to some) is thinking up what to write about. I’m working on some projects that will hopefully be making an appearance on here in the near future – before 2012, that is – but nothing concrete at the moment. I am forced, then, to fall back on the topic that can make or break a blog: my life.
I know, right. I’m that interesting.
Today was an inset day at my dear school, which meant I could get up when I liked, try and fail to make an omlette and watch House before playing with Fred, instead of the usual routine of ‘get up, eat, shower, attempt to fix hair, fail at fixing hair, find lunch, get to the door, realise I’ve forgotten something, retrieve it from overcrowded desk, get to door, fall out of it, somehow get to down the road intact for another day of lecturing by old farts who think that teaching degree = Extreme Power Over All Life’.
I also went to the cinema with Elizabeth, to see a film about gravediggers who later decided that the back sweat of shovelling wasn’t worth the pay cheque and murdered people instead. Or something. I’ve been pretty interested in the story of Burke and Hare since they featured on an episode of Blue Peter when I was eight. I remember saying to Mum, “They’re Scottish and that guy has our surname, is he a relation?!” My grandfather on my dad’s side was from Glasgow, see.
Turns out the actual Burke and Hare were Irish immigrants to Edinburgh, and maybe never (re)dug a grave in their lives, but what the hey. I enjoyed the film. Simon Pegg looks exactly like his character. My favourite bit, apart from the in-jokes featuring every famous Scottish scientist or resident of Edinburgh that ever lived, was Pugsley turning to me and saying “Simon Pegg sounds more Irish than Scottish.”
Francesca's Thoughts 