A mid-term break has never as welcome as this one. From now untill April 27 I am officially on university-holiday! Yay! That means no classes, no getting up early to catch the bus and that I can have a little more time for writing. Fiction, that is. But before I stop talking about school - I have posted a link to Youtube of a rendition in Arabic of the 99 names of God/Allah. The lecturer for one of my Religious Studies papers played this in class this week (for a section on the Qur'an and the Islamic point of view of whether God could have a body). Hook it up to some good speakers if you can. I must admit, it was wonderful to hear at high volume on those kitted systems the lecture theatres have. I'm privileged, and I don't think I realise this often enough. I get to learn about all these things that excite and interest me and it gives me an informed view of a world that is so damn complex we will probably never understand it.
Al-Asma-ul-Husna (99 Names of Allah/God)
My brain is tired, though, and I have decided to do nothing but watch 80's movies for the next two to three days. It's a failsafe strategy that never fails to work. Also, the temperature has decided to drop in the last few days, so I won't need much persuasion that I'm not supposed to leave the bed. I have two cats who will keep me warm - Jen is away in Auckland until Sunday morning. I struggle to shut off though, and though I handed in two essays within the space of a week from one another I am already thinking of my next topics due in two months. I will have to spend some time of the break studying William Wordsworth's The Prelude, which is fantastically long, but splendidly awesome. The man could write, ok?
I have been making notes in my head obsessively for book one of the Strickland Diaries and I need to get them out. It's time I start actually having a notebook. Close-by and always.
What am I watching tonight... The Spy Who Loved Me! Roger Moore - man, that guy - Best Bond ever. I'm sorry, but neither Brosnan nor Craig stands a chance. As for Sean Connery, he'll always be Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez to me.
"You have the manners of a goat and you smell like a dung-heap. And you've no knowledge whatsoever of your potential. Now, get out!"