Is this it?

The clicking of keys.

The shrill of the telephone. 

The tapping of a biro. 

The rolling of a chair. 

The sighs that fill the air minute after minute. 

Is this it?

Today, I feel miserable. Not in a "I'm going to bring you down with me" kind of miserable, more of an imaginary woodpecker tap tap tapping away at my head kind of thing. Each tap representing the same three words I ask myself every day. Is this it?

I work in a small office each day as I have done for the past four years of my life. Age group 18-22 has been spent with the same company. And while I have grown a lot as a person, I am still in no way closer to realising what I want to do with my life. I did not go to University like all of my friends did. Instead I took a job and bought a car and discovered my independence in my own way. I have saved more money than the majority of people my age will have saved in years to come and yet this still isn't enough. In no way do I take my job for granted. But I want more. I need more. I need to discover a life outside of the walls of the renovated barn that I have sat in for years that I know all the ins and outs of.

I know how to change the waste toner cartridge. I know where the blu tack is kept. If anyone has any strange requests they turn to me, who will 99.9% have it hidden deep in the back of my office drawers. Permanent markers? Check. Alan key? Check! (Please do not ask how I came to have an alan key in my drawer - I have no answers) I know where the special labels are kept. I know whether they go face up or face down on the printer. But I do not know where I am headed in life. Or where I should even begin.

Travelling is in my sights. At the moment it is the only thing I want. But no one else is in a position to go on the adventure with me. Do I go alone? Do I wait? SOMEBODY TELL ME. Because for some unknown reason, I can't seem to tell myself.

Is this it?

Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan

Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore - Robin Sloan

I had heard so much about this book that when I saw it peeking out from the shelves of my local book shop I had to buy it. I sat on my bed turning it over in my hands and realised I had no real idea of what the book was actually about — other than a 24 hour store — but sometimes that is the best way, so I jumped right in. 

This book records the story of Clay Jannon, a 26 year old programmer/designer who has been hit by recession and is in need of a new job. He finds himself outside the slightly time warped Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore advertising for a new job and steps inside.

"I pushed through the bookstore's glass door. It made a bell tinkle brightly up above, and I stepped slowly through. I did not realise at the time what an important threshold I had just crossed."

I was pulled in from the start and enjoyed flicking through the early pages of this book. Much like Clay I was filled with curiosity as to what dwelled in the books back in the dark shelves which old members sought out night after night. The mystery surrounding old Mr Penumbra was infectious and the book had an eery feeling of magic running through it. (I was getting the idea that this could be a book store's version of Harry Potter - but on a much smaller scale.) The way in which Sloan describes his surroundings is incredibly vivid,  you almost begin to feel the atmosphere in the book climbing out into your bedroom and encompassing you in it; this is something that I cannot fault in the book.

"The shelves were packed close together, and it felt like I was standing at the border of a forest — not a friendly California forest, either, but an old Transylvanian forest, a forest full of wolves and witches and dagger-wielding bandits all waiting just beyond moonlight's reach. There were ladders that clung to the shelves and rolled side to side. Usually those seem charming, but here, stretching up into the gloom, they were ominous. They whispered of accidents in the dark."

Once I waded further into the book I found myself detaching from both the story and the characters. I felt there were no real explorations into the characters, no developments made. And rather than a 26 year old man, Clay and his friends seemed no older than 16 years old. The story runs away from the more mystical adventure that it began with and introduced the likes of Google as a character in itself.

The ending was quite an anti-climax as I really couldn't understand where the writer was going to go with it, it was set up for a fall as soon as it was something of a more modern entity. I found myself really fighting to get through the last two hundred pages which rarely happens to me. I wish I could have loved it like many others did, but it just wasn't the book for me!

July Playlist

(click for links!)

 California Dreamin' - Bobby Womack

The River - Sam Garret

Just Ain't Gonna Work Out - Mayer Hawthorne

Losing You - Solange

Under Your Spell - Desire

Nirvana - Sam Smith

Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair

By The Way

This is me.

Here are a few things about me.
Well I'm 22 years old.
I tend to fall (literally) into ridiculous situations constantly.
If you were to look inside my head you would most likely hear clown music on fast forward.
I don't get out enough. (I'm trying to rectify this)
I will always be messy or terribly unorganised.
I will watch the same film on loop for weeks and still laugh and cry in the same places.
I like having babies around so I can "babysit" whilst eating their supply of rusks.
I read a lot.
I couldn't bring myself to watch the final episode of Prison Break.

Things I greatly appreciate :
Books,
Arctic Monkeys
Uma Thurman's twist in Pulp Fiction
Dogs with human names - like Alan or George
Michael Flatley
Kids in sandals
Independant films
John Travolta dancing to All Shook Up by Elvis,
The Cure
Sleeping in the car
The Michael Fassbender & James McAvoy bromance.

& that's all there is to it really!

It's hard to explain...

Taken from Landline by Rainbow Rowell.

I find it hard to talk about "love". Talking about guys? Sure. Talk about love 'n' stuff in a very sarcastic clownish manner? Course! But explain how I feel about real love? Not so much. I just don't do it that well anymore, it's too bizarre of a topic for me to talk about it in a way that I can even understand, let alone make anyone else understand. But tonight something clinked in my head and to the keypad I go.

I've had experiences with love on polar opposite levels. I've had that real first time-for-everything kind of love, the one that is new and fun, the one where you can stay up talking until 5am on a school night and not even remember what the conversation was about but all you know was that it made your cheeks hurt, and you certainly don't mind being a zombie the next day in English Lit because of it. The one where everything is perfect until one day it's not. THEN I've had the one where you convince yourself that you love someone that is not right for you in any universe for whatever reason, and spend way too much time being unhappy about it until you cut that cord and get out. (Wouldn't recommend the second option.)

Although I find it hard to put my thoughts about love into any useful perspective for myself, I think I am "in love" with love. I adore how a simple small gesture can tell a person a hell of a lot more than the words "yeah, love you and that". This gesture doesn't have to be grand, or obvious, or boyfriend/girlfriend related. Whether it's your mother telling you she's recorded your favourite programme for you, or your close friend inviting you to something they know you would like. Sometimes it is just knowing that someone has thought about you. Thought, and done something to show it.

Basically what I mean is... I read a book today, and teared up. I watched a little video today, and teared up. Twice in one day. Both the premises of these two things were the big bad L word. And for just a little while, it brought me out of my Ice Queen hostility towards love and brought a bit of warmth back into it for me, and I'm thankful for it.

The video is here if you're bothered.

Crying Lightening

It was 5:20am this morning when I was rocked from my easeful sleep. I awoke to crack after crack of lightening and rolls of the most roaring thunder I have ever seen. Once I got over the initial shock of being woken up to what looked like the closing scene of The Jungle Book (you know the one with the vultures that were based on The Beatles?) I heard cries of panic from the kitchen downstairs. I stumbled my way down to open the door and both of my dogs tore out through my legs and headed up the stairs for comfort.

One dog got into bed and immediately went to sleep, blissfully unaware of why she had been disturbed but more than happy to forget about it. The other dog was tearing around the room in an attempt to seek something I could not give him. Assurances that everything would be all right? Of course it would, but I can't tell him that. It hurts so much to see him so distressed and panicked that his world may be closing in around him. It went on for about forty minutes, his panting, crying, fidgeting. Worn out, he has now retired from fear and is spread eagled on the floor.

I wish I could have told him what my Mum used to tell me - "It's just God moving his furniture!"

*-Crying Lightening.*

My Nirvana

This week has not been so much on the busy side, but more full up. The day to day bustle of it all combined with the unusual heat London has been experiencing of late has left me completely beat at the end of each day this week. To rectify this I chose tonight to do what I do best. Chill out. It's a blessing I will never get tired of. The last few hours have been spent updating my iPod with the likes of Bobby Womack and Jon Allen, devouring the last of my ice cream and finishing Slaughterhouse Five.

Spending a little time alone helps me to just shrug off the remains of the work day and slide into relax mode. I always feel like the need to write down little random thoughts that flow through my head each day just for the act of getting them out and down on paper so I have some more room up there. By this I don't mean intellectual put together thoughts, my notebooks can contains things like Marlon Brando films I want to watch or evil quotes from books I have read. Anything and everything, I get it down.

// Currently watching The Counsellor, it hasn't received the greatest reviews but you know, ol' Michael Fassbender keeps me well entertained even if the script does not.

Rationality VS Guilt.

A couple of weeks ago I had a stranger come to the door of my house and asked to be let in. I was alone and I had no idea who this person was, and I let him in. I thought I should write about it.

I’m one of those horribly awkward people who slide off the sofa like a seal off a rock and hide whenever I see someone coming to the door. One humid afternoon whilst my parent’s were out "running errands" (what does that even mean please?) I was caught unaware by a small man with a briefcase at the window. The dogs immediately started howling and a surge of panic crept through my entire body. I stiffly made my way to the side door – I am no longer given access to the front door as I have lost more keys than I can count – and opened it. It went like this : 

“Hi…” (scared)

“Are your Mum and Dad in?”

“Erm no, they’re not.”

“They were expecting me.”

“Okay well sorry, but they’re not home yet” (starts closing door)

“Well am I coming in or no?”

This is when I began to recede into a slight frenzy. Had I been a normal social 22 year old I may have handled this situation completely differently, but after quickly assessing the man who stood before me, whilst he did not look like a complete and utter psychopath I did notice that he had with him a black briefcase. Bearing in mind I had been bulk watching Vampire Diaries and Prison Break I began to think a mixture of two things. 

1 – He is obviously a vampire and if I invite him into the house I will never be able to get him out.

2 – He definitely has an axe in that briefcase. 

Despite all of this irrational terror, I replied with…

 “Errr sure!” 

...and invited that stranger right in handed him a glass of water and we sat very awkwardly together on my sofa half watching Prison Break and half side eyeing him to see if I could spot any protruding fangs.

Why did I let this man in? Because I felt guilty. I felt an unbearable amount of guilt for making this man wait outside while I awkwardly tried to make a decision. Even though it is my house and I did not know him, I still felt guilty and let him in when he could very well have been 2014’s answer to Pat Bateman. I opened up my home to someone I did not know because ultimately, I was scared to say NO. I cant really fathom why I allowed my guilt to override my rational thought process but it was weird and I hope I learn from it and realise it is okay to say no. A rational thing to do would have been to say “Right let me just call them and check.” But no, I couldn’t even do that. Guilt is a funny thing huh?

-Just a sidenote, he actually turned out to be an old friend of my parent’s who is fitting the windows in our new house. But still, he COULD have been a murderer. Right?

Rule #76 : No excuses, play like a champion.

On Saturday I attended a beautiful Greek wedding of a family friend that my mum has known since she was 16 years old. Words cannot begin to describe the amount of love that permeated throughout the entire day and was openly shared between family members. It started off with a ceremony held in an enchanting Greek Orthodox Church with traditions carried out and words sung to the bride and groom, there were tears falling down the cheeks of devoted loved ones and gleaming smiles lighting up each face that looked on.

The reception was held in a hotel later on in the evening with staff walking around serving drinks and snacks of which me and my Dad quickly located our favorite tray (the spring rolls) and accosted the waiter - his name was Bryan and he was French - and kept him on a regular cycle back to us for the entire time we were standing in the sunshine.

After 4 captivating speeches delivered with a mix of humour and gratification (the groom's speech definitely got a few tears out of me) it was time for the dancefloor to welcome the guests out for their best moves! This was my first Greek wedding and it was so different to any other wedding I have seen, the dancing traditions were so enlightening and it was a blessing to see first hand how other culture's welcome you openly into their own.

One thing that really struck me that day was the amount of love shared between the family. I know many families love each other dearly and I certainly feel that way about my own, but each person would unhesitatingly walk up to their Mother or Father and kiss or embrace them and tell the how much they loved them. It occurred to me that this isn't "the norm" for many families' out there to be so honest and forthright with their love to one another, it really was a beautiful sight.

Le Tour De France

Today marked the day that Le Tour De France ripped through Cambridge and London releasing a swarm of cyclists onto the city streets whilst we - the exhuberant and perhaps slightly over zealous bystanders - cheer on from the bustling pavements attempting to get a good view of the race going past. Let me be clear, when I say I watched "Le Tour de France" I literally mean waiting around in the typically ambivalent British weather for forty five minutes trapped behind a group of extremely tall men all to be a witness to five seconds worth of a kaledescopic blur go by to screams and cheers. But as much as it was a hassle - you've got to love the enthusiasm.

I ended my day with some cajun battered shrimp, far too many onion rings and a viewing of 22 Jump Street. Ever get the feeling that you and your friend are the only people laughing in the screening? That was most definitely us today. x

YEAR 3000

Last night saw 90's babies across the UK unite in Hyde Park to see their childhood dreams come true right before their very eyes. McFly and Busted coming together to become MCBUSTED. We laughed, we danced and we sang our hearts out through the downpour and into the beautiful sunset listening to Air Hostess, Obviously and It's All About You. One of the most magical moments was the sun cutting through the gloomy clouds and a rainbow lighting up over the stage as 5 Colours In Her Hair was playing, let's just say it was a moment.

I loved everything about it. Nothing could bring me down, not the rain, not the cold and certainly not my four blisters that started bleeding. And as I sit here at 8am writing this post trying to ignore the burning pain in my foot, I am so happy that I went. If I had played my usual game and said no to going,  I wouldn't have had the great memories of seeing two of my favourite childhood bands playing live with my best friend. And I wouldn't have seen how Dougie Poynter can seriously pull off a string vest and ponytail combo. Here's to saying "yes" more often! 

Ps - thank you to the lovely gentlemen that held me up whilst I tried to sort out my shoes, and for laughing me through the pain x

Tonight on Salad Days.

(source)

It is 1.33am. One dog is successfully occupying all of the desirable leg space on the bed whilst the other dog is snoring so loud it may be just enough to send a message home to ET. Now that you have stumbled onto this place - probably looking for delicious salad recipes -  I may as well let you in on the situation and what this space is for.

So tonight on Salad Days I introduce to you; me! I'm Lauren. Now I don't know about you but I seem to spend my time with a cloud of existential crisis looming over my head. When this happens I tend to do a number of things which include lying on the floor for hours, complaining to my Godfather about the changes I need to make in my life, he in turn attempts to give me advice and we both leave the conversation thinking the same thing - same time next week? I like many others dubbed 2014 as "my year" I had big plans for travelling and adventure and sticking it to the man but again like many others all my plans fell through and I ended up right back on that floor rolling around on the phone to my Goddad.

I operate in an uncoordinated back to front manner. One half of me is ready to leave everything behind and get out and do things I would never normally do whilst the other half is desperate to stay in cuddled up every night watching 80's movies wishing I could pull off those wildly unflattering swimsuits and rock the shit out of double denim. So this is my way of giving myself a push to actually leave the house and make the most out of the time I have to live on this earth and document the memories on here to look back on. Otherwise it would be a pretty mundane blog even if it is just me reading it!

I'm signing off now as I've had a film on whilst writing this up and have only just realised I've been watching it in French. Five salad dollars to whoever gets the Salad Days reference. Talk soon x