It's all gone a bit quiet round here...

That's mainly because I have a new favourite thing, namely: instagram. A little photo-sharing app that lets you run pictures through a series of retro filters, tag them, and share them with online friends. It's insanely addictive. I've probably come to it quite late, as I'm one of the last people I know to have an iphone. But it has certainly been keeping me from blogging. Maybe I can claim I've been micro-blogging, in a way. Oh no, wait - that's twitter. Or maybe I can consider it photo-blogging. Anyway, if you happen to want to follow my feed, you can do so here and find me as @bittersweetcity if you happen to use instagram too.

A new life manifesto, courtesy of instagram?

The other reason it's all been a bit quiet is probably because this is the start of my 30th year and I've become much more focused on the future. There's a pressing need to shake things up this year, which if you've been reading previous posts, you will know has been on the agenda for the Mister and I for almost 3 years now. Careers have really taken over our lives for the past year, but the continued stresses and upheavals felt by changes at my place of work, and the sector itself, are spurring me on to do something different. And I mean it this time. I'm hoping to be able to quit my job by August and with savings, attempt the long-awaited travelling and working abroad scenario I've been going on about on here for years. I'm working on the plan in earnest now. Here are my prequequisites: 

1. Must be French-speaking. I've been sort-of speaking well-ish for coming up to 12 years. It's time to get bloody fluent. Oui, je voudrais parler couramment, quoi.

2. Must be warmer than Britain. 

That's not a lot to ask for, surely(!) I'm considering anything from training for a TEFL course to pouring café lattés in Bordeaux. Or preferably, rum punches in Mauritius.

The thing that scares me the most is waking up on my 30th birthday on August 25th and thinking, "I know exactly what the next 12 months will be like." I am frightened of having everything all planned out, and yet I want to know what I won't be doing this time next year.

It means having to take risks. Scary, but good. It's the last time in my life I think I'll be able to, before I need to consider if, or when, I have children; before I need to make plans to be near my mum, as I'm her only child and she is on her own. I know being free of responsibility sounds selfish, and it's never truly possible. 

But just once I'd like to try it. 

Surely I'm not alone in having thoughts like these. People of the interweb: do you also have them? Have you acted upon them? Better still, have any success stories or tips you can share? I'd be ever so grateful. 

Til' next time (stick around, I feel an increase in productivity coming on ;)...

Aftermath (Or, Why I Love This City)

true dat.

This past weekend, the Mister and I spent some of both Saturday and Sunday in Brixton. We don't live that much closer now than when we were in Streatham Hill, but somehow the bus journey or walk there seems easier, and it's our favourite place for many things: the amazing cinema; eating out in one of Brixton Village's many treasures; meeting friends; going to Morleys department store. I bloody love Morleys.

On Saturday evening we went to the Ritzy and saw Super 8 (if you want a review, I've not got time here - but this about sums it up). It was a lovely evening with a semi-sunset and we sat at the bar after the film and marvelled at how brilliant Brixton was.  Each time we come here since the redevelopment of Windrush square we always comment on what a good idea it was to just turn those benches t'other way around, so that no more shady deals go on, out of view from the road. Now the whole area is teeming with life; the area in front of the Ritzy is a social space, with nice plants and funky lights and people sitting on the grass playing games. It warms the cockles.

image credit: urban75.org

On Sunday we came back for a trip to the shops and to have a look at Brixton Splash. It had rained that morning and so it seemed like things got going a bit later than expected, but by the time we were out of Morleys around 5pm it was all going off. The sun had come out and there was a large crowd on Coldharbour Lane, dancing to a badass remix of Amy Winehouse's Rehab. There were even dancing Elvises. Elvises, I tell you!

The Kings, dancing in front of The Prince - cheers @voicefromspace

Standing in the sunshine that afternoon, swaying with the crowd, and knowing that Tottenham had suffered riots the night before, I felt lucky to live in such a peaceful, awesome, multicultural melting pot of cool. I tweeted as much, feeling safe enough to joke that riots in Brixton were 'so last century'.

Then the next morning I woke up to see this.

I felt utterly devastated.  As events unfolded throughout Monday and intensified that night, a wave of sadness came over me. Had we been completely wrong about the feeling in Brixton that day? Was the community really so quickly and easily on its knees, to be ripped apart by mindless thuggery?

The feeling that day was one of ever-increasing tension as reports of violence spreading to other areas multiplied. It was desperately scary across London on Monday with mass riots taking place in seemingly every corner of the city, twitter going crazy with chinese whispers of where the next mob would target, friends checking on one another via various mediums, everyone listening out for sirens, shouts, or the sounds of smashing glass. It was a dark night for London.

But here's the good news. In the days since then I am extremely pleased to report that the fantastic spirit I love about London and its people has been has been brought to the fore. In many cases, acts of mass care and kindness have been carried out with renewed fervour, matching any destruction and terror with peace and love, man. Especially in Brixton.

Some examples of this (and they are numerous) which have really warmed my heart:

• The @riotcleanup movement, started by people bound by a need to do something good to counter all of the destruction
• The Do Something Nice for Ashraf blog, which aims to help the Malaysian student who was filmed being mugged by youths who had initially helped him up from the ground after he was hit by a piece of debris thrown by rioters.
• The free cupcakes offered by a shop in Brixton, the free tea, coffee and sandwiches offered by the Battersea Arts Centre, the free storage offered to flailing businesses by a secure storage company - and there are many other examples - all show a human kindness that goes beyond 'good PR' or 'effective marketing' to just plain, simple, old fashioned community spirit and loveliness.
• Some MPs are out on the streets, doing their bit to reassure and comfort their communities. Some, like Chuka Umunna, do it even when there's no news camera rolling, because they're genuinely good people.
• This photo. Says it all, really. God bless this town. May she recover quickly.