Friday QuoteDay

"To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, day and night, to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."

— e.e. cummings

Weekly Flâneur: Cheeky

"Northfield farm Beautifully well hung beef, just like our butchers!" Cheeky Brits.
Sign in Borough Market, London.

Exciting Things

First off, FitC had its first Guest Post last week! And now, I'm working on a guest post for Jamie's blog. Since she wrote about Jersey Shore on my blog, I will probably write about Teen Mom 2 on hers. Because that is what music television is all about.

 

 (David Bowie wants his MTV. Don't we all, Mr. Bowie. Don't we all.)

Secondly, I added one of those Follow boxes in the sidebar. If you have a Blogger, a Gmail account, AOL instant messaging, Yahoo, etc., you can follow me. If your name is Ashley and you blog at Dead Men Tell No Tales, this is your subtle, subtle hint to follow me.

(Hanging out in the sidebar!)

Third, the post "What Kind of F**kery Is This?" was posted on Persephone Magazine! If you are not familiar with Persephone, take this as invite to check them out. And if you are here via Persephone, welcome! Let's be friends!

(Yay!)

Fourth, blogging will be a bit light this week and next week. Why? Your Natalie is graduating! That whole dissertation thing I blogged/cried about all summer managed to earn your resident flâneur a Masters degree. And in lovely London town, Spring graduation happens in early March. There will be family and friends and pomp and circumstance, so blogging may be limited to the regularly scheduled Weekly Flaneur and Friday QuoteDay.

(Big Ben will be there too.)

And after that? Back to America, where a steadfast Mr. B waits. We have a future to build.

(And I have a blog to write. Stick with me. I promise it won't be boring!)

(There will always be Bowie to entertain us!)

Sad but True

With Harry Potter and Mary Poppins, while wearing Victorian-era or mod 1960s clothes. 

In the rain.

Also, "Pip pip cheerio, Gov'ner!"

(Image reads: Great Britain according to the US. Map of the UK with LONDON covering it. Subhead: (Where the queen lives and they all drink tea.) Found via OutlawHearts, but don't know if that's the original source.)

Truth from the Guerrilla Girls

Rock on, Guerrilla Girls! 

(Click to enlarge, as always. Complete text of image after the jump, for my readers who require it.)

Friday QuoteDay

“And yet does it not all come again to the fact that it is a man’s world? For if a man chooses to be promiscuous, he may still aesthetically turn up his nose at promiscuity. He may still demand a woman be faithful to him, to save him from his own lust. But women have lust, too. Why should they be relegated to the position of custodian of emotions, watcher of the infants, feeder of soul, body, and pride of man? Being born a woman is my awful tragedy. From the moment I was conceived I was doomed to spout breasts and ovaries rather than penis and scrotum; to have my whole circle of action, thought and feeling rigidly circumscribed by my inescapable femininity. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars -- to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording -- all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night ...”

— The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

Weekly Flâneur: Chilly

(Click to enlarge. Crosswalk to Westminster Station, London.)

Reading Corner

(Barbara Kingsolver: The Lacuna)

Finally getting around to reading this! Bought the book, because I have loved every other Barbara Kingsolver novel I've read, and it is now available in paperback. Ms. Kingsolver read at London Southbank last year, and the tickets sold like hot cakes; I couldn't even get on the wait list. Sigh!

The book? So far, so good; her writing style is one of note. Imitate it, writers, and let it influence you as you create your own style.

What are you reading these days, my dears?

Two New Petitions

The first is open to both my American and International readers:

• Rape victims are not "accusers." Sign the petition here to add voice to stop this heinous language.
  
  

• As I mentioned on Saturday, the language of forcible rape is still in the H.R.3 bill even after the pressure and promise for it to be removed. Remember, even without this language, the bill is abhorrent. Voice support for women in America and sign the petition here.
  
  
• Original post, petition and ways to fight this is here. As the saying goes, the squeaky wheel gets the oil. Calling your representative, using Twitter, and signing as many legitimate petitions as possible will bring further attention to this issue.
  

You're Not Alone

One of my search hits this week was for this:

(Search Keywords: "am much too alone in this world, yet not alone")

Which linked to this post, titled "I Am Much Too Alone In This World, Yet Not Alone," an oldie from 2008. The post is Rainer Maria Rilke's poem in its entirety. That's all.

To the one who was looking for it: Hello. Welcome to FitC. I love that poem too; it is in fact one of my favorites. A tattered copy was taped to the mirror of my apartment for years; It's one of those poems that speaks to me in a profound way that makes sharing it feel like I am naked. A well-crafted poem that exceeds the limits of translation into English; something that eludes lesser poems. It's beautiful, isn't it?

The Internet can be a weird and hateful place sometimes, but it can also be a place to make small moments of connections and genuine friendships that make the world a little bit easier to bear. Hello. You are not alone in this world. Count yourself among those in the know.

Dear Readers

I choo-choo-choose you. Please be my Valentines, because I really do love you all.

X's and O's,
Natalie

SWF seeks SWM who is DTF, enjoys GTL and DWIs

(Welcome to the very first Guest Post of Flâneur in the City! Jamie blogs about her adventures in dating and dog-raising over at Bibliophiled Away. Keen-eyed readers may note that her name is a bit familiar in these parts: Email exchanges with Jamie have appeared on FitC before! Jamie's hobbies include her dog, Rayla, making fun of my spelling, baking rainbow cupcakes, critiquing music, chasing musicians, and generally being hilarious. Give her love! -- Natalie) 

Written By Jamie

When I was in the second grade, the cutest boy in Mrs. Roberts' class, Adam T., asked to hold my hand at a Valentine's Day party. As we were crafting our affections towards our peers with red construction paper and silver glitter, Adam reached across the desk and held out his hand to me. Stunned by his advances, I didn't say anything, but shook my head no, undoubtedly breaking his little 8-year-old heart in the process.

Fast forward twenty years, I am still shaking my head at love, as evidenced by the fact that my dating resume only includes 2.5 boyfriends (Yes, I just referred to a guy as a fraction). As a 28 year old confirmed bachelorette, I haven't had a Valentine in two years. That's a long time to go without a dozen roses, a box of chocolates, a frilly card, a romantic candlelit dinner, a piece of jewelry or two. I think Valentine's Day broke up with me because I was too needy (calling incessantly, asking it what it was thinking all the time, requesting it to buy me tampons on the way home from work), but didn't know exactly how to tell me it wasn't working out between us and hoped that I would get the hint when Valentine's Day wouldn't return any of my calls.

Like any jilted lover, the 14th of February harbors a great deal of resentment in my heart and is now just another day. To express my true feelings, I'd like to manufacture some real conversation starters for the so-called greeting card company fabricated holiday. Who wouldn't like to dip into a tiny red box of chalky heart-shaped candies with such sentiments as:

Damn It

"Women, in case you need further proof that the Republican anti-choice majority (and the Democrat anti-choicers who have sided with them) really, really do not care about your well-being, here it is: although Republicans said a week ago that they would drop the draconian "forcible rape" language from the still-awful HR3 bill, that language remains in the bill today."
Via Alternet

It's Saturday, not a usual blogging day for me, but this needs to be addressed. Come Monday, it's call time.

Ways to address and contact your representatives are here.

Friday Quote-day

"Any woman who chooses to behave like a full human being should be warned that the armies of the status quo will treat her as something of a dirty joke. That's their natural and first weapon. She will need her sisterhood."

-- Gloria Steinem 

Weekly Flâneur: Direction

(Click to enlarge)

Where do we go today? Sign near the Seine river, Paris, France.

An Open Letter

Dear Teenagers of Starbucks,

I assure you, your party this weekend will not be "killer." Your party this weekend will be exactly like every other high school party in the history of high school parties. Here's what will happen: You'll run out of cheap beer, someone will puke, someone will cry in the bathroom, you'll listen to music that will embarrass you in ten years, that one couple will have a fight, and if you're lucky someone will call the cops so you will have something to brag about on Monday in Geometry class. Slow your roll, Zack Morris*. Why the hell are you in Starbucks at 9 at night on a Tuesday** anyway? Don't you have class in like, 5 hours? You're here because you are not allowed in bars. And when you are old enough to be in bars, you'll be just as annoying to the grown-ups there as you are to me.

Sincerely,
Grown-up Natalie

* For my International readers who may not know the glories of Saved by the Bell, here's a photo of Zack Morris for reference:

Fly.

** Yes, today is Wednesday. I wrote this last night but didn't post. Call me on your Zack Morris cellphone if this is a problem.

Trending

Things that are becoming a trend:

• Screaming at my clothes. In retaliation to yesterday's closet attack, my favorite pair jeans (aka, the only pair that fits at the moment) decided to gain an extra crease in the wash that I cannot seem to iron out. Thanks, Uniqlo.
  
  

• If it is not 3 degrees below Arctic-norm outside, I have been walking a mile everyday. (As opposed to hiding in bed and watching SpongeBob. What? He lives in a pineapple under the sea.)
  
  

• Friday Quote-Day. It's a thing now. Officially. So that makes this here blog-o-rama all regular like, with a schedule of:
  
  Monday - Wednesday: Potluck
  
  Thursday: Weekly Flâneur
  
  Friday: Friday Quote-Day
  
  Saturday - Sunday: Booze
  
  That, my friends, is at least 3 posts a week, give or take a weekend hang-over. If I'm not careful, FitC may actually become respectable. Eliza Doolittle has become a lady!
  
  
  
• We have recently neglected the real reason why you visit this blog: David. Motherlovin. Bowie.
  "Where," you ask, brow furrowed in confused distress, "where is the Bowie, Natalie? What has become of your undying obsession? Is your love so fickle?"
  
  No, no, my friends.  My love for the lad insane remains tried and true. And as proof, here is the bread and butter of FitC: Pictures of Bowie and puppies. FitC, the go-to place on the web for puppies who look like Bowie! Images after the jump! Enjoy!