Where childhood ends…

Today, I have suffered injustice. I now know what it means to be left out, scorned and treated like a second class citizen because of something I have no control over. I feel hurt, hurt by the unfairness of it all.

Since when were teenagers not allowed into the playground without an accompanying younger child? What is this nonsense?

I queued for twenty minutes outside the Princess Diana memorial playground in Hyde Park only to be turned away. Twenty minutes of my life wasted and my childhood ripped away. Not that many years ago, I would climb to the top of the pirate ship, hide in the red-indian tepees and hunt for the closed treasure chest in that playground but today, I was too old.

When it comes to voting, I am a child but all this changes at the playground gates. Why is that?

The ducks didn’t think I was too old for a chat. They understand the insignificance of age better than any human authority.

The irony of it is that I was turned away from a Peter Pan themed playground for being too grown-up.

Peter Pan

“If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up! Not me!”

I should have grabbed a few kids from the queue and gone in with them, or claimed to be younger than I am. I should have complained and made a big fuss. I should have never grown up.

Are you ever too old to play? Have you ever been turned away?

An open tag

Aside

So, I’ve been tagged by Blogs-Of-A-Bookaholic and because today, it is thundering and the sky is gloomy, and because I love being asked questions, I am full of answers.

Here are the questions she asked:

1.) Which book do you think should be adapted into a film that hasn’t been already?

Hard one to answer because many of the books I have read are already films, that’s usually how I find out about them. The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, if it isn’t already a film.

2.) Which classic are you too scared to read/keep putting off? (E.g. War and Peace.)

I do not fear books. Give me a classic, I’ll clear up my schedule. I might not particularly like the book but I’ll see it through.

3.) Sam or Dean Winchester? (Show Supernatural)

I don’t watch the show but I like the name Dean better. Sam is too common.

4.) Do you think the paperback will become extinct and be fully replaced with the Kindle?

I thought so at first but then I read a quote by Stephen Fry :“Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators.”

5.) Have you ever had an experience with the paranormal? E.g Ghosts, aliens etc.

No, just the usual sounds in the middle of the night that turn out to be the dishwasher or dark figures that are really just shadows.

6.) Your least favourite genre to read?

Full-packed action. I can’t follow to many movements and usually skim over battle scenes.

7.) Who’s biography would you consider reading?

My own, from the future. I would get to read about everything I will do, any mistakes I should avoid and I could get things done a lot quicker and do more in life because no time would be wasted if I know the shortcuts.  

 8.) The best birthday present you’ve ever had?

I’ve suddenly gone blank and can not recall a single past birthday present. I don’t make a big deal about birthdays. I don’t even remember what I got for my last birthday. Oh, money. I got money.

9.) Your opinion on Shades of Grey? (Whether you have read it or not.)

I definitely haven’t read it but I think that it should be totally banned because it gives people distorted ideas about human relationships and I believe in the sanctity of marriage as the only place for sex.

10.) Your favourite place to read?

It’s the book not the place. Somewhere quiet but not eerily so, warm, dry and comfortable. My bed is just fine but so is the sofa.

11.) Which books from present day do you think has the potential to become a classic 50/100 years down the line?

Harry Potter. All of these vampire, werewolf and demon series are great teenage reads but they’ll never last. Harry Potter has longevity. It has the magic and the magical creatures but it does it right.

The people I’m tagging:

The Chronicles Of Radiya

and ten more volunteers. Just volunteer in the comment box.

And that is how you take the easy option and compensate for your inability to make Blog Buddies.

My Questions:

1) What is the first book you have a memory of as a child?

2) What is the last book you’ve read?

3) What is the worst book you’ve read?

4) Vampires. Yes or no?

5) What are your favourite T.V programmes?

6) What two book characters from different books do you think would make the perfect couple?

7) How do you mark your page?

8) Hop on a plane right this minute. Where to?

9) Have you abandoned any book series? Why? Name them.

10) Do you have any book quirks/habits?

11) What hopes do you have for the future?

The Rules:
1. You must post the rules.
2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post.
3. Create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
4. Tag eleven people with a link to your post.
5. Let them know they’ve been tagged.

So, tag away.

Dreams of Travel

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.”

The world is huge, wonderful and amazing. Those are only the first three adjectives that came to mind. It is so vast but when you point to your location on the map, your finger covers it. Only a small speck on the globe.

I wonder about the other specks. Their different languages, buildings and ways of doing things. I am not content with images, not matter how vivid and detailed. I want to be there. I want to explore.

Where do you want to go? Anywhere. Somewhere different. Somewhere new. Somewhere that will make me feel foreign and lost but allow me to enjoy every moment of it. I haven’t done that in a while. I always visit the same few countries and whilst I’m sure they hold their own magic, it is not to be found in the same places I am obliged to stay at. Duty calls and when you live far from any extended family, it ties you down, every school holiday.

I’m not even sure if I love travel. It could just be the idea of it. A right of passage for the young: a desire to explore, to find where you truly belong. A common cliché of life. Maybe it’s just a passing phase, or maybe it’s just the boredom of being home for the summer, but right now I want to travel, somewhere, anywhere.

Big cities full of lights and shopping centres, or small rural villages where locals make traditional handmade crockery- I have no preference. Hot or cold, snow or dessert- as long as it is not British climate. Or if it is to be in British climate, not London. You can travel in your country; there are many places within a few hours drive that you have yet to see and wonder in awe at. Ever since studying a poem about Romney Marsh, I’ve been wanting to visit the lyrically described scenery in Kent. I am also attracted to Italy; the language, the Mediterranean atmosphere, the small villages by the sea, the history and the architecture left for us to see.

I’m tired of my little speck of the world. I want to travel.

Anyone else want to travel? Where to? Or are you lucky enough to already be abroad?

 

Nightmares- Ducks, Cars and Exams

I’m generally not a restless sleeper. When I wake up, I find my bed almost done and I can hardly remember what I dreamt about the night before. I tried keeping a dream journal once but that didn’t work out because I wouldn’t have anything to jot down. Dreams are said to have signs and hidden meanings but I just think that they are whatever you are thinking about whilst you are asleep. We never truly have a moment’s rest and our minds can not be expected to switch off for eight hours a night. We might forget how to think in that lapse of time and wake up dumber than when we went to bed.

 

Lately, my dreams have been worrying. Some our self-explanatory. I have my GCSE exam results coming up in a few weeks so it’s natural that I should have nightmares about them. I dreamt that my statement of results was given to me in Arabic and so I couldn’t understand it, even though I can actually read Arabic, and that our form tutor went through the humiliating, old-fashioned process of reading out everybody’s results. That kind of dreaming is normal and expected. I don’t dream of failing exams, I just dream of getting lower grades than I would have liked and receiving them in Arabic.

 

Some dreams are just bizarre. How would you explain being surrounded by ducks with nowhere to escape? I tried to cross the bridge but it became submerged in water and a duck blocked my way. I turned to the left. Duck. I frantically turned to the right. Quack. Then, I woke up, shaken and confused to find that what I thought was a feathered wing was actually a fold in my flowery pink duvet. What does such a dream say about my state of mind? Does it say anything about my personality? How about my future? I think not, but I could be wrong.

 

Another strange dream found me defending my mother’s incorrectly parked vehicle from a large woman by biting her hand as she pointed her keys at me as if they were a gun. This resulted in me locking the door and windows before peddling all the way home. The only possible message here is that I was born to be the hero, to cycle, or to clean up my mother’s mistakes.

So, what do you think? Do dreams always have a point or are you sometimes so tired that you start thinking gibberish in your sleep? Has anyone had any weird dreams lately? Leave a comment if you would like me to have a go at interpreting it for you. Although, don’t put too much faith in whatever I come up with.

I was a part of London 2012 Olympics

Wembley StadiumLast night I was one of the 70,584 spectators at Wembley Stadium, watching the women’s football match between Brazil and Team GB. A few of my football questions were answered. I learnt that the players do not stop playing to watch the replays and that when the ball is kicked into the audience, they are expected to throw it back. I still have no clue what the offside rule is all about, but I have a feeling that no one does.

I screamed ‘Team GB’ until my voice was hoarse and took part in no less than eight Mexican waves that went around the entirety of the stadium, so frequently that the match was just a little extra entertainment. We were the people who provide the sound effects for your television screens, the boos, the gasps and the cheers. We deafened each other with our joint voices and after only a few minutes in the stadium, I had a buzzing headache that stayed with me until this morning.

Women’s football is unlike men’s football in that there are far less fouls and they do not mess around, throwing themselves to the ground in hopes of a penalty. From what I observed, women play clean and follow the rules. Let’s hear it for the women and for the London 2012 Olympics, unless the traffic and television take over are spoiling your summer!

Why do we always think the worst?

This afternoon, I was out shopping on Oxford Street with my sister and as is the norm the place was packed with shoppers, many of them tourists. I bought a periwinkle cardigan and black harem trousers and tried on a few maxi dresses but because I am incredibly short, those were left behind. I was happy with my purchases but they were not the only things I brought back with me.

Somewhere in between one shop and another, amongst a throng of people walking past each other, one stopped and handed me an object. It was unexpected and my automatic response was to take it. I hardly had time to look at the curly-haired woman who gave it to me and did not look at the object itself until she was gone, leaving my sister and I in a state of confusion.

Here is what she gave me:

After we had gotten over the initial surprise our thoughts naturally turned to the worst conclusions. My sister thought that it might be a computer virus and I thought that it might be the stolen data of a major corporation or bank that had been hidden with an unsuspecting stranger who know one would suspect (me), to be collected at a later date. Neither of us thought, maybe it could be a….I can’t even think of anything positive that it could be.

Is it a city thing to be suspicious of everybody’s motives? A result of reading too many crime novels or watching too much CSI? Or even watching too much news? Why did we automatically think the worst?

I’m wondering what other people would think in the same situation. What do you think is on the SD card? I’m not going to dare to find out but I’d like to read your thoughts.

I caught a glimpse of the Olympic Torch

Today, I braved the heat (unusual for any time of year) to witness a historic moment that I will be able to tell my grandchildren about in many years to come. The build up was tremendous (at least on my part), despite the traditional British moaning about the traffic, the sneaky immigration and the new olympic lanes.

The crowds slowly built up…

The police were waiting whilst telling people to keep to the pavement…

Coca Cola made an appearance, commercialising the entire event and gaining publicity that they most definitely do not need…

And finally, the Olympic Torch passed us by. Those who blinked missed it. The torch-bearer was jogging along the road and was gone before some people had even realised he had arrived. I was prepared and managed to catch it on video.

These small fleeting moments make up history and it feels good to be a part of it, even if it means baking under the hot sun for three seconds worth of a historical event.