A Bit of Book Chatter | October

Being a university student should mean a budget on books right (as in buying no books at all)... Well, has that gone all too well so far? See below for more details.

























Love, Rosie (Where Rainbows End) by Cecelia Ahern

I have seen the film adaptation of Where Rainbows End by Cecelia Ahern called Love, Rosie advertised a lot recently, and each time I have seen the trailer I have immediately grinned, excited at the thought of seeing it. I was browsing through some shops today and was delighted to see the book ins store, knowing straight away that I must read it before I see the film. I have heard never ending buckets of good things about Cecelia's writing and after reading the blurb, I know this book is going to keep me very warm as the nights are a little colder. About Rosie and Alex, two best friends, Love, Rose (Where Rainbows End) looks more than charming. Will their friendship be threatened by Alex and his family moving to America? I will see very soon!

The One Plus One by Jojo Moyes

Me Before You by Jojo Moyes is one of my absolute favourite novels, and this gorgeously big book full of Jojo Moyes' words just makes me want to cry with happiness. It looks like an honest novel that's going to make me be told about a scenario I've never thought about, and see something wonderful through it. It follows the life of Jess who has two jobs and two children, and Ed, who has made a mistake but wants to put it right. I love how little I know about the story from the blurb and how I will soon know when I delve into the lovely-looking novel.

You Had Me at Hello by Mhairi McFarlane

I have seen this novel all over the blogosphere for a long time, with positive words attached to every review I've read... I'm excited. Rachel and Ben were once "partners in crime and the best of friends." Life changed. But they are back in each other's lives, and I can't wait to see what this means!

These novels excite me no end! What have you bought this month, or what will you be buying? I'd love to know!

Shiny New Covers & Untouched Pages,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Train Journey Thoughts

I am currently sat on a train, and I've just realised I'm sitting, facing the opposite direction of travel. It would make my mum nervous and I can't help but smile warmly about how she'd insist to switch seats with me had she chosen the seat facing the opposite direction of travel. I am remembering train journeys to London with my family and the endless amount of jokes and stories we shared. I am picturing the awesome amount of books that have, in total, so far, been finished on every train around the world. That's a thought that makes me happy too. I'm listening to McFly on my iPod and making up silly scenarios in my head where I bump into them on the train and we share lots of laughs and smiles. Well, it could happen!

"Love" is a word a lot of us use regularly, isn't it? I love all of those (whose have the pleasure to be) close to me, McFly and books. All of those are true. But I am no stranger to questioning the conept and word "love" in all of its glory. It's definitely not been a subject I've avoided talking about. I've not been particularly shy about my opinion on the old blog, too. "A hopeless romantic who doesn't believe in love," I call myself.

Can one live along the lines of this concept and still fall in love? I know so.

I think I fall in love quite often. And I fall in love whole heartedly. And everything I say I love, I really blooming mean.

When I finished Me Before You by Jojo Moyes I declared to my room that I was in love. Deeply, deeply in love. With an object that sung words to me that caused my heart to become attached to two characters: Loud and Will. Months and months later, and I'm still in love with Me Before You and its gorgeousness.

Then there's people. Those who just make me stop and have a want to tell them exactly how wonderful they are, and how much they glow with something that makes me feel comfortable; feel at home. I hope I make them know how wonderful they are; with or without words. More and more I'll try to use words to construct a sentence that nearly - but can't physically quite - portray how full of awesomeness they are.

I love happiness. I'm in love with the feeling of glee and everything associated it. I love smiling and watching a smile be returned. I love different laughs for different occasions and the twinkly feelings I feel when I hear happy words. I love happy memories. I love sharing a joyful moment with someone. I love that.

I don't know; I like love.

Paper Hearts & Multi-coloured Sprinkles,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #4

Being a complete cynic when it comes to love, I feel like the week of Valentine's Day is a good time to let my inner love for love to be, again, let loose on my blog.

Normally I write these posts after my fingers having been triggered to type excitedly by an event I've witnessed; an event that's reinforced love. Today, though, I am writing because I have witnessed so much love be given by a man who is not only my hero, but the hero of everyone he meets.

Passionate about his job, helping others, his love for life and his family, this man spreads true love in every aspect of his life. He taught me that you can have a real and complete love for more than just the stereotypical thoughts assigned with love. He practises spreading joy and happiness and love in everything that he does and he's one of those cases where "if I'm half the person he is, I'll be proud."

One time, he told a brief story of his life so far. He told of his struggles; his journeys; his job; the story of he and his wife; the story of their family. In his eyes was happiness. In his eyes was love. In his eyes was also contentment. Sometimes this may not seem overly positive. To be content may connote "settling" but that's not the story his eyes told. His life is everything he has ever wanted and his contentment sparkles because of the love he has for his life and the people in it. As, despite the struggles, he loves his life.

Sometimes he would tell one particular story. The story of the engagement of he and his wife or something awesome he experienced or a story he had been told. There is one, in particular that I remember.

He told me once of a story of pain and struggle. Yet, he smiled. He didn't smile for the sadness he and others experienced, but for the experiences he had with those involved in his tale. This man, my hero, never takes anything for granted and he never stops love from radiating in everything he does.

He makes me believe in everything good. He makes me believe in love - in every area of life.

Have you ever met anyone that suggests that love really does exist?

The other posts in this series so far:
A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #1
A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #2
A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #3

Sherbet & Flowers,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #3

As I've spoken before about being both cynical and completely in love with "love", I'm going to talk about another experience where my pessimistic eyes have been opened.

Love comes in different packages: the love you feel for a friend; the love for a family member; actually being in love and so on. I watched two versions of love wrapped up in one lovely moment that I had to force my eyes to be drawn away from. Recalling the moment even makes me smile.

On holiday I saw love in the form of a family and the love the two parents of the family felt for each other. In the pool was the dad, holding his baby boy with his older boy beside him. There were nothing but smiles. The mum was outside of the pool taking a picture, capturing this perfect moment: all of her lads having fun on holiday. The dad was grinning wildly, the mum proudly, their happiness and pride both showing their incredible love for each other and their own picturesque family.

The eldest son was showing off his water tricks and his dad praised him, saying that he would soon be able to teach his little brother. I couldn't help wonder how much he wanted his boys to stay that age or whether he was excited to see them blossom. I'd expect a bit of both, but he was definitely enjoying this perfect moment.

After they came out of the pool the eldest kid asked for an extra treat with a cheeky smile and they of course, said yes because the boy seemed a gem and they clearly loved him (as you would) with all of their hearts. The baby boy giggled along and the family packed up their stuff, sure to be enjoying more lovely moments that evening.

The love between couple was perfect. They would smile at each other, their sons lighting their eyes with pride but their love that existed before their children shone like crazy too. They had their own little moment within the moment, the smiles they shared between their children talking, the smiles in their eyes.

There are two special things about this moment:
1) Although I can only assume, this one short moment was probably one among many moments that they have experienced before and just a slight happening in the mist of happiness they are to experience and yet, it caught my eyes and heart.
2) The love the parents had (and have, I hope!) for each other lead to this second form of love and that's just too precious.

It's crazy how much this one experience made me incredibly happy.

Splashes & Smiles,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #1
A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #2

A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #1

A while back I wrote a blogpost about how I'm A Hopeless Romantic That Doesn't Believe In Love and today I experienced the reason why I am not a complete cynic when it comes to love.

I was sat on the bus and I couldn't help but stare at one of the loveliest moments I have ever seen in my seventeen pessimistic years. I was as happy as Larry when I was sitting on the bus because what's not great about a sunny Friday that's leading into a three-day-weekend and then...I saw something: love. It's difficult to portray the beauty of what happened, because in typing, the imagery is a little vague, but take my love-filled-word: it was as sweet as sugar. I looked to my right and there was an elderly man and woman sat, the man on a single seat in front and the lovely woman on the single seat behind; the woman's hand was resting on the top of the seat and the lovely man was stroking it, playing with it, their love as young as their hearts. All I wanted was to take a picture, but I gathered that would be overstepping some boundaries, but I don't think that image will ever really leave my mind. I physically couldn't draw my slightly tear-filled eyes away. I mean, how could I? It was a long while before the man stopped comforting his girl, their love as obvious as the air around me and as he drew away, I knew that they were the definition of love in real life. There was something so caring, so touching about his delicate way of letting his girl know that he was there. There was something so innocent about it. I sat there, imagining their story but knowing that it would be a better story than I could ever create. Was he a young fella, lead astray and then put right back on track the first time he saw the young, pretty soul? Or were they family friends since birth; growing up together at family BBQs and trips to the seaside, the young man making the young girl blush until they declared their love? Maybe they met later in their lives, their time apart not wasted, just a lesson to be learnt... I guess I'll never know. Yet, what I do know for sure is this: I may sometimes look at the world through a smoky lens, things clearer in my eyes than they really are. This couple epitomised happiness and love and contradicted everything that clouds my vision.

According to the Urban Dictionary, a cynical romantic loves the idea of love, thinks it's a nice thing but believes that there is logically no such thing as love. In this way, I am definitely a cynical romantic but yet, today, I fell head over heals in love with not the idea, but the real picture in front my eyes. Hear, hear!

Your Hand & Mine,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

A Hopeless Romantic Who Doesn't Believe in Love

The title of this post explains it all to me, but I am very aware it is an oxymoron which could make one wonder what the hay I'm talking about: "a hopeless romantic who doesn't believe in love" and it's been my way of thinking from whatever age I first considered the strange concept of "love".

I shall explain:

I have always been a sucker for romantic films, books and songs; I adore fairy-tale, Disney relationships and fall for every charming fictional character I've ever had the joy of delving into their worlds: Dave-the-Laugh, Wes, Logan, Kian, Peeta, Gale, Romeo, and trust me the list goes on. My tummy is inhabited with butterflies whenever I read the most beautifully-crafted words of Nicholas Sparks, producing delicate feelings in which a character feels for another. There are songs that send me to another world completely. A world where "the grass is green" and happiness is not - as One Tree Hill phrases - a "destination"; where evil does not exist and would not ever be inflicted on another: the perfect world.

But - (and I apologise to a previous English teacher who would be having a right old tizz if she were to witness me using "but" at the beginning of a sentence) and the only way I can think of putting it is - I am a cynic. A boy cannot, in my eyes, produce the most thoughtful gesture without influence and a girl sees faults that should not exist. "Love" lasts only as long as the mind wishes to endure, and the small things vanish when the heart refuses to play any more. The concept of "love", to me is simply a commercial-scam to keep the economy existing, to keep some kind of happiness on the surface, to keep people disillusioned when times are darker than those with power wish to portray.

"Love" can neither be pinpointed by those whose voice is louder, nor can it be explained by a blogger who can - all in the same day - cry at the heart-wrenching film Titanic and cringe at her best friend for claiming to be in the full-swing process of the motion of, yes, "love".

If this were an essay, I'd conclude with facts and figures supporting an assured view without contradictions. Yet, I can't. Wherever I see true heart being spoken in words, I feel my eyes sting with excited tears but I also see an inevitable, eventual disease, and where I see roses produced by the modern-day-Romeo, I both "aw" outwardly and see a woman who intends to make this man happy until the next season's Gucci arrives.

Sunshine & Sandcastles,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

(Plot twist: all of the above does not mean that I do not see that love does exist...)

Gay Marriage

I have never understood why homosexuality is a controversial issue. I do not say this naïvely and nor do I say it in a butter-doesn't-melt kind of way. It has always been clear to me: gay, bi, straight, the foundations are the same. To me, I believe it should be equally surprising if someone is gay, bi or straight. Maybe I hope the world can be seen in a more beautiful colour, but homophobia, is categorically wrong. Hence, homosexuality should not be considered wrong. Of course, everyone has an opinion. My opinion is that those who believe homosexuals should not have equal rights and therefore the same opportunities is wrong. Frankly, it is disgusting.

I sit, trying to consider the opposite argument, be tentative, but I can say with confidence that I physically cannot. I would be less opinionated if I was someone who could not see it so black and white. Yet I do and so will not apologise. How is it 2013, where new, exciting technology is no longer a surprise, where walking down the street without sending a virtual message is impossible and the concept of gay marriage is alien to some?

"Boy meets girl" results in no eyebrows raised; throw "boy meets boy" or "girl meets girl" into the equation and suddenly the idea becomes all the more complicated. Apparently. What is all the more frustrating is that I cannot depict strongly enough the amount my head begins to hurt attempting to put into words how simple the subject is and yet that is all it should take: "It. Is. Simple."

"Love" to so many is a beautiful, delicate movement of two people being besotted with the other. The majority, I take an uneducated, bitter guess would picture a couple consisting of two different genders. Now, this, I can not feel angry about. This is how generations so far have been brought up. Why though, should this be the case? Why, after being told a story of two people, so caught up in the motion of love does it become ugly when informed the couple were indeed of the *gasp shock horror* same sex?

As taught from many years of education, "I" should not be used in a persuasive piece, just facts, figures and tentative analysis. However, this should not need educating: same sex marriage is the same as opposite sex marriage. Furthermore, this should not have to be a case that needs to be persuasive.

Following the "tentative analysis" should be an assured conclusion and I assure you, there should be no more doubt around same sex marriage.

Stop this craziness now.

Daisies & Clouds,

The Girl in the Moonlight.