Wednesday, 29 April 2015

The Rosie Effect - Graeme Simsion

I can read Don Tillman's thoughts like I can eat chocolate (very quickly and very happily). So, after reading The Rosie Project (my review is HERE), it's safe to say I couldn't wait to read the next part to Don's life, The Rosie Effect.












*Spoilers about first book.*

Don Tillman's accidentally hectic life is the reason for our continuous smile as we read. His thoughts and actions were the predominant reason I adored The Rosie Project and alongside Rosie and his friends, the two books are the most endearing reads. I read the first installment to Don's story and was swept away by the novel's charm and sheer brightness; the messages that are put across and the conclusions that are made. *Drum roll for a cliche perrrr-lease.* This book is no exception.

The Rosie Effect follows Don and Rosie's life. A life involving a pregnant Rosie and a confused but determined Don. As the story goes on Don and Rosie struggle with Don's motives; Don struggles with problems he gets himself into and how he is supposed to feel. The comedy is so spot on that it makes the whole book so edible to the eyes. We long for Don to be understood; we long for him to win.

I have been reading a lot of "second books" recently and The Rosie Effect is another that didn't disappoint. The way Simsion tells Don's story makes the protagonist easily likeable. His relationship with Rosie is a little different to the first novel (naturally) and it's refreshing to see how things have changed; and yet Don't honest thoughts haven't. We like that.

The Rosie Effect is an awesome read. The two novels are ones I always recommend and ones I will always buy for presents. We see the serious issues Don has faced in his life and how he has overcome them; we accept Don and think he is awesome simply because... he is! I adore Don's story.

Guide Books & Old Friends,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

P.S. Photography is not my strong point!

Monday, 27 April 2015

The High Street

Louisa fist pumped her best friend and bowed to her parents. Then she blushed. "A show off that isn't very good at being in the spotlight," her gramps used to say. She just won her 25th race; her 20th first place. As the second place girl ran past the finishing line and she recovered with a smile on her face, Louisa fist pumped her too. She did so to the third and fourth place girl until she was called to one side to speak to a newspaper.

When she was eight, Louisa won her first school cross country race. She was rattled with nerves beforehand and then felt unbelievable calm after "Go!" was shouted. When she crossed the line to mark her win, Kian was standing there to congratulate her too. Her best friend; always there, waiting to watch her win. Whether that means first place or not.

Louisa: competitive but polite. Most importantly, known for being sincere. So when Louisa grinned as she was handed her medal after her 20th win, nobody begrudged her politeness as she clapped on her fellow racers. Nobody doubted her fist pumping of her competitors. She was here to win; she was here to smile.

Louisa stepped down from the podium and wrapped her arms round her best friend, Kian. "You freaking daydream, Lou!"

Louisa shook the funny feeling in her stomach off as "after show nerves" as her mum used to say when she felt a little off. Her mum would sit her down, calm her and give her some water until she was joking again.

"Thanks man!" Louisa grinned. "Hey, hold on."

Louisa jumped over a bag and approached Alison, the girl who came second. "Good race, Ali! Do you feel good?"

"Awesome. I feel good. But, hey, how are you feeling?"

"Pretty sweet." As she remembered her best friend waiting, she smiled and told her to have a good night.

As Louisa approached Kian she noticed a smile on his face. "And as Louisa Johnson - the one and only - approaches me after her 20th win, I can note with confidence that this is only the start." Kian laughs as he pretends to be a reporter.

"It was one time, Kee!"

"The first newspaper article is the start, my star."

The way he said "star" sent a reminder of butterflies into her stomach that said something along the lines of, "Lou, you're ignoring us and we're not going." As Louisa rolled her eyes at him, her parents approached them. "People are clearing out now guys," her mum said to her with a proud smile. Louisa had noticed before that the particular smile she noticed that it never really went.

"Are you all cooled down okay? Stretches done?" her dad asks.

"All good, captain."

"Brilliant. You guys ready to head back?"

After showering and changing into denim shorts and a baggy top, Louisa paused at the mirror. She let down her long, chestnut brown hair, and added a little mascara to her eyelashes. She walked slowly downstairs to find her parents and Kian sat around chatting on the sofas.

"Hello superstar," Kian grinned at Louisa.

"You're a loser," she responded quickly enough to hope the blush on her cheeks would be dismissed.

Ten minutes later Kian and Louisa headed out. "Where are we off to then?"

"Well, little Lou, that is no concern of yours."

Something had changed in Kian's voice and it made Louisa nervous. He sounded a little on edge. There was still his playful tone, still that glitter in his eye, the ease in the way he ran his hand through his milk chocolate brown floppy hair. But there was something different. He was her best friend and the only person that knew her better than her own family, but she couldn't pinpoint what was different if her life depended on it.

There was a quiet that fell between them. It wasn't like they hadn't met quiet before, but it made Louisa feel a little silly- and she thought, in a good way. It was early June and the sun was low in the sky, but still lighting the evening with a happy smile. This was the time of  year that she felt such excitement for the upcoming summer. The weeks of her and Kian getting up to all sorts; being best friends in her favourite season. Only this was the summer before they headed off to university and this reason made summer seem a little off key.

But with her best friend by her side, on the evening of her 20th official win, Louisa encouraged the warmth.

Louisa had been subconsciously mirroring wherever Kian was leading them too, and she was suddenly aware they were in town. She turned to question Kian again, but felt her lips unable to produce any sounds as his eyes were fixed in a soft song. His face was calm, his skin browner from standing in the sun, supporting her earlier that day. As she turned back to face ahead, it suddenly struck her that Kian had never missed one race; never not celebrated or comforted her; never not made her feel incredibly special.

Louisa was very aware now. Still unaware of what she was aware of, she felt nerves enter her heart. But she didn't mind them.

Kian paused. Louisa paused.

She looked to him and noticed how he was suddenly aware of being different. He grinned at her and with charming eyes, he said, "Here we are."

Confused, Louisa tilted her head upwards. Aliandro's. It was a little independent Italian restaurant in their little town. A beautiful restaurant. "Here?" Louisa didn't know what else to say. She knew her heart was happy, but she knew her mind was confused.

Louisa was sure she saw Kian at a loss for words, but she doubted herself at his quick recovery. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for dinner with me, was all." His eyes teased her and she wasn't quite sure what he was saying.

Normally Louisa was as quick as him, as able to take a situation and make it Kian-and-Louisa, but she wasn't sure what was expected of her right now. She smiled nervously.

"You look beautiful, Lou."

She almost laughed but she double-took at the look he was giving her. "I only had a shower, Kee." She laughs, unsure of what to say.

He looks down, hands in his jean pockets. Louisa suddenly noticed that he had changed into black skinny jeans, brown shoes and a checked shirt. He looked... Well, he looked something good.

He nodded and opened the door, letting her in. He followed her in, and at the second door a waiter smiled, "How can I help?"

"I have a table reserved for two, under Adley."

Louisa felt a little shocked. Kian Adley reserved a table for him and her. She wanted to shake her head, but remained still. They're best friends; she had to tell herself to stop thinking into it too much- stop getting ahead of herself.

Kian held out Louisa's chair as they approached the table by the fairy-light lit window. "The most wanted table for you, Sir and Madam. As requested by Mr. Adley. He was very keen he get this table," Louisa couldn't look at Kian as the waiter said this.

They had passed this restaurant many times. This was the very window they would look into when they past, talking about the always happy reviews of Aliandro's.

Once the two of them sat down, everything resumed as normal. Louisa made herself ignore any confused thoughts and they spent the evening excitedly talking about the race, discussing Kian's gig he will be playing the next week. They joked and became more and more excited for each other. When Kian insisted he get the bill and Louisa failed to convince him she would like to pay for herself, she felt herself unable not to watch him.

He brought out the appropriate amount of notes and scattered a tip on top.

They walked down the high street, close together, but apart. They walked this high street countless times, but Louisa couldn't shake the feeling that this walk was different. It wasn't an early Sunday morning when no one was around and Louisa chased Kian jokingly; or a Friday night to have pizza with their friends. It wasn't a walk to a cinema trip to see their favourite superhero films, or the walk home from school or college.

"Oh, yeah, you don't notice, no?" Louisa teases.

"I don't! You're such a tease!"

"So Kian Adley - the Kian Adley - is oblivious to Sophie Richards and Hannah Lee and all the other Sophie Richards and Hannah Lees staring as he strums his guitar and sings that song.

Kian laughs back but seems a little tense. "It's not the Sophie Richards or the Hannah Lees I see."

"Well, I wouldn't let them know that," Louisa almost whispers.

She feels Kian stop and it takes her just a moment to stop too. It doesn't feel overly dramatic; but it doesn't feel normal. "You look beautiful tonight, Lou."

She doesn't want to laugh this time, but she turns with confusion. She notices how everything suddenly feels very "now"; very present tense. She wasn't regarding this as a normal best friend outing anymore. "I look like normal, Kee."

"I don't mean to be cliche, but... Exactly."

Louisa flashes back to the countless high street walks or runs, giggling; happy.

"You look beautiful tonight, Lou," he repeats.

Louisa bites her lip and looks down. Quietly she says, "Thank you."

She flashes back to the Sundays sat eating roast dinners with her parents and Kian, or Friday nights watching TV with his brother.

"I've got it wrong, haven't I?"

She flashes back to all the times they have been mistaken as a couple. The musician and the runner.

"Wrong... What do you mean, Kee?" A sudden confidence rises through her. A different confidence to the ease she normally would feel around her best friend.

She flashes back to when her gramps died and Kian was there; there for her all the way.

"I wanted to take you out, Lou. I always have. But today. I mean, today, I knew you were going to win. I booked the table a week ago."

She flashes back to him waiting at the finish line. Every time.

Louisa frowns a little, although she hopes she does so softly. "You booked it a week ago." She doesn't say it like a question. It's a statement. A statement of realisation.

Kian doesn't say anything and she realises she has never seen him this nervous. Not before all of the gigs he has performed and she has chilled with him up behind stage. Not... ever.

She knows what to say. "Thank you for being there today. At the race."

It was his turn to frown softly. "Of course, Lou."

"But thank you. You're always there, aren't you?"

"And you're always there."

"Thank you for dinner," she  returns to a whisper.

Louisa flashes back to her happiness under his stare; her excitement to see him whenever she did; her happy embarrassment when people did mistake the two of them as a couple.

"We've walked this high street a lot, haven't we?" She says and then blushes, confused as to why she said it. But Kian doesn't look confused.

"This is the one I want to remember though. Really remember."

She doesn't feel embarrassed at his words anymore. She doesn't feel the best friend ease she feels; but she feels that excitement. She feels what she's secretly known she feels for a long time.

He closes the short distance between them and she faces the face she knows better than any other face. She likes it here. In the high street, with this as her view. "How long have-"

"Always," Kian breathes with such tension Louisa can't wait much longer.

"Always," she says in agreement. His smile tells her he understands.

He clumsily finds her hands and holds them in his. Louisa feels her heart tell her, this is it. This is what I was trying to tell you. Louisa smiles slowly and Kian's face is feeling like the feeling she feels as she crosses the line; only better.

Their lips finally meet and everything made sense. Their high street. Theirs.

~

A Beach & A High Street,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

A Slice of Un-Anonymous #2

I started this "A Slice of Un-Anonymous series so that my blog can be that little more about me! Today, I thought I would do so by talking about a few memories that have shaped me and my views of the world, or the way I act, whether these memories are predominantly focused around me or not!

- A memory from when I was eleven years old

One of my best friends was bullied by some girls from our school. The situation was resolved, thankfully, but there was an awkwardness between my best friend and the particular group of girls. No one deserves to be bullied, and I have always been certain of this. When something horrible happens to someone close to us, though, we can be even aware of our already-held opinions (even though we should always concern them). My opinions of these girls were altered and I was angry my best friend had gone through it. The memory I want to draw focus on, though, is this: When the girls approached my best friend, a while after the situation was “resolved”, with an apology, my best friend accepted it. Easily. She smiled, and called her once “friends”, friends again.

- A memory from when I was twelve years old

A girl in my class experienced a lot of heartless cruelty by our peers – cruelty to this day that sickens me – and as much as the teachers were aware of it, as much as myself and others tried to make the comments stop, they did not. I do not consider myself worthy of five gold badges for my actions and so please do not consider myself as one who believes I am a hero when I write this next memory. I do not. One comment was said to the girl in my presence and someone I respected laughed. I turned and glared at him (I am the master of a glare in a situation I do not agree with) and when he continued laughing, hoping for approval of some sort and I made it clear I was not impressed, the boy’s smile and laugh stopped instantly. As another comment rolled by, he began to tell someone off for their actions.

- A memory from when I was seventeen

When I was leaving school once, I witnessed a situation involving girls maybe three or four years younger than me. I’d like not to defend what I did but I was very confused about what was happening so really didn't know how to take the situation- so I try not to tell myself off too much, as angry as I was at myself at the time. I was sat at a bus stop, waiting for my bus to get home. Some schoolgirls past me, being quite loud and boisterous, but all seemingly finding whatever was happening quite funny. I was suddenly a little aware of one of the girls being the butt of the joke, and maybe not being part of their group, as I heard some of their comments. Really unsure of what was happening, I got on my bus that turned up. Regretfully, things seemed to get all the more unfair for the girl that was that but of the joke. It was safe to say I felt incredibly sick and ashamed of myself for not acting sooner. The girl looked distraught as they shouted her and were obviously saying horrible things. (Please read on to find out that I tried to amend my wrongdoing.)

The morals I  learnt from these memories (which at the time were very much “here and now” situations) have definitely taught me lessons in abundance.

When my friend accepted the apology of the girls who bullied her, not long after, when we were alone, she said she saw they were sorry and she wanted to move on. The girls were horrible to her, but once they apologised I know not of an occasion where they were ever malicious again. My best friend took their apology and was so very graceful about it (I am thankful their apology and actions that followed were sincere but naturally this is not always the case). This taught me acceptance and courage and the freedom of letting go of a grudge. When a girl in my class was bullied and the boy clearly was ashamed of his actions, his decision to then try and  stop cruel comments was one that was something so good. Naturally, he should not have supported the bullying in the first place, but he learned. And the third memory, although one of my biggest regrets, taught me a lot. I was very distraught after the incident and as soon as I got home, I emailed the headteacher of my sixth form, attached to the school of the group of girls, which was also my college. I had a meeting with her and told her the story, in the hope that it would be resolved. Although still ashamed, I hope I had amended my ignorance.


I thought I’d talk about some things that are wuite personal to me, even if they are predominantly about someone else.

Putting Right & Moving On,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

♡ #1

Friday, 24 April 2015

A Written Split Personality

When I write, I'm transported to another world; the same me embraces another side of me. Unless I am writing something in a certain fashion, when I write, my voice is mine, but it is dissimilar to it too.

Something I have learnt about myself as I have written more and more – a hobby particularly enhanced by my blog – is that I find it a lot easier to talk about my feelings in the form of written word. I have always been a girl who has not hidden my opinions (when it comes to things I find wrong and so on), but I have never been particularly vocal about things I think about when I am lying in the dark, or feelings I am feeling when I am sad.

I feel I have become particularly two-faced, although I don’t hate myself for it.

We are all different, that’s for certain. One thing that makes me different from one of my friends is that they are particularly forward about their emotions (and I admire her for it); one thing that I would assume makes me different from a lot of my friends is that I can let out my emotions perfectly to me in written form.

My way of writing can change in different types of posts. Sometimes I consider my writing more light-hearted than in posts when I discuss topics like love where I portray myself a little differently. I think, a lot of the time, my writing doesn't portray the personality I project to those I meet. In particular, those closes to me.

Once again: I don’t hate this.

I am one for believing in everyone loving themselves, and  I do like my personality. We all have
faults, we all have things and attributes we’d like to change about ourselves, and so I still have to
work on feeling more positive about certain things (and considering whether I need to change
particular things or not to achieve this). My point is this...

...The potentially split-personality I achieve is one I’m proud of.

I like that I can delve more easily into more serious topics in writing. However, I do believe I should work on letting people know how I feel more. My written split personality has taught me a lot.


I haven’t quite worked out whether there are attributes of my writing I’d like to transfer to my personality to. For example, with certain topics, I am much more open about in writing. This is the case with my personality too. Should more of “me” be on the blog? A lot of me, I believe is on the blog! It’s just a thought.

When I write, I happily experience a split personality. When I live, I happily enjoy the other side of my personality.

Memories & Flowers,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Wednesday, 22 April 2015

Always

There is a sometimes for many moments. Sometimes when the sun is shining, I am happy. Sometimes, I am sad. Sometimes when the rain is raining, I am happy. Sometimes, I am sad. There is a sometimes for every rainbow in the sky and every thought in my mind. And then there's the sometimes I could never aspire to. Sometimes, I want company and friends and laughter and memories spoken aloud. Sometimes I want my mind and a slice of silence. There is a sometimes in every day that I live: Whether a Monday or a Friday, there is always an option. Always an opposite. Sometimes I walk slowly; sometimes quickly. Sometimes all I want is to run; sometimes all I want is to lie in today's song. Sometimes I play piano with complete certainty; sometimes I'm not so sure. A contradiction with myself I have always been aware of is this: Sometimes I like being in the limelight, but sometimes I despise its glare. Sometimes I have the words and sometimes I do not. When the night turns to day, I miss the moon and when the day turns to night, I'm willing back the sun. Sometimes the world's beauty astounds me with sweet melody; while its entire ugliness is painted in front of my eyes. When faced with challenges, I can recoil; yet, sometimes I thrive in the opportunity. Sometimes I know exactly what I mean. Then there are times where I am entirely muddled. I live with a clean slate silently covered in regret. Sometimes I see the path I am heading down; sometimes it is broken and confused. Sometimes... Sometimes.

Sometimes I don't want them, but I Always want You.

~

Have a lovely day or night, wherever you may be.

A Sometimes & An Always,

The Girl in the Moonlight.


Monday, 20 April 2015

This Easter

I have had the best Easter holiday. Relaxing and quiet but exciting and busy. I saw my friends and spent time with my family and re-fueled. That it has been sunny and warm for a while also contributed to a very awesome three weeks. I just want a little post to reflect on how amazing the last few weeks have been.






















My smile was mirrored by the singing blossom in the trees; my happy tummy was so through the food I did eat. Watching other peoples' stories on the screen, and celebrating friends turn something-teen. Beach trips and pub trips and lots of ice-cream. Runs in the sun; walks in the sun; flowers and books and a perfect Easter for me.

I was sat around wondering what to write about this post. My little doodle is enough in my head. And then I pretended I was sat in a junior school class and just wrote that silly little paragraph above, ha! I don't know how to put it really. My Easter was amazing. Refreshing and promising. It relieved a lot of stress. This isn't meant to be a literary genius piece of writing. Just honest and good.

I hope any break you may have had was lovely.

Boks & Runs,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Friday, 17 April 2015

Magic Pt. II

A sandy beach. A blue sky. An early melody of summer's song. Two best friends.

Not too long ago I wrote about the feeling of magic behind the smile on my face (HERE). I promised to feel this feeling as much as I could, I feel the want to recognise this feeling once again and in written form.

Old jokes being recalled. New jokes being created- sure to be recalled another day. A new experience. New food. A new horizon. The same soundtrack. The same feeling of magic.

My stomach felt warm, but cool. It felt friendly and easy-going and in love with the day.

"Thank you so much"s and surprising each other. The start of the promise of summer. The continuations of the promises of two.

This post that outlines a story of true magic is my favourite adventure. The magic comes from this. The magic comes from the truth in the promise of other favourite days. And this particular one, I treasure so.

Lovely laughs. Excited giggles. Thankful smiles.

Like a cliche explanation of happiness, here I am. Words and a page. My heart and a feeling. A friend and a promise I believe.

A Beach & Memories,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

P.S. Although this may seem particularly similar to my last post... All is not as it seems. (I don't know how to simply say: They are not based on the same day.)
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