It was a room of a hundred thousand windows each one looking out onto a different world

I could quite easily rob a library. It's one of the only places I would happily rob. Whenever I go the urge to sweep every book in the YA section into the hood of my hoodie or under my hoodie preggo style is unbearable. I CONFESS. I am a book lover, a bookworm if you will. I can read a whole book in a day and forget to breathe. Skip meals and construct a soundproof bubble around me so when my mum tells me to tidy my room for the hundredth time, her voice simply bounces off me. Useful. 


"You can start reading pink books now." BAM. I made it. Straight to the top. The top row of books in the school library were mine all mine. You see the pink books were the clever books, the books with the dramatic plots, small words, no pictures, LOTS of pages. Clearly these books were only readable by those who were strong mentally and could take the tragedies and heart racing dramas. I was prepared. I was excited. JACQUELINE WILSON WAS MINE. Corgi Yearling? KMT. Drop that Yearling and place a Corgi single in my hands. Eat your heart out Biff Chip and Kipper. The Very Hungry Caterpillar? Eat cake. Louise is ready for the big ones.


The school library was good, for school. But it didn't beat our Shenfield Library, and was a speck of dust on the shoulder of Brentwood Library, and we knew it. When the librarian from Shenfield came to our school to tell us about the new books we knew our library was NOTHING compared to this. The Summer Reading Challenge was EVERYTHING. The ultimate competition (excluding the easter egg challenge obv) at school. Who would read the 6 books and get the medal? 1 book a week? Bring it. Commence the staring down at classmates you see at the library, getting their record stamped. 


Mum took us to the library about once a month when we were little. We'd be allowed 6 books out every time but when she caught me amongst the beanbags with a pile of 9 and already half way through one while flicking through the bottom shelf between pages, she gave in and helped me carry them to the desk. Occasionally I'd drop hints and borrow 7 books about cats. Never worked. Book Week at school was the best because we got a book voucher. I could BUY a book. The only other times I could actually own a book was my birthday and Christmas, or when we went on holiday. Mum would pack my bag and hide books and magazines for the plane. Amazing. The trouble with buying books was that I could never choose just one, and I couldn't buy more than one because it was too expensive and my book voucher couldn't take it. Back to the library.


Around 400 libraries are due to be closed by the government. That's MILLIONS of books gone. What are they going to do with them? Burn them? Turn them back into trees? When reading through tweets about the #savelibraries campaign this morning I stumbled across author Joanne Harris who was doing storytime and has let me use her tweets in this post. She told the story perfectly... 


Once upon a time, in a village like yours, there lived an old librarian. (A librarian is a person who studies hard to do a professional job and is paid relatively little. Bit like an independent bookshop owner.) Lots of people loved the library. (A library is a place full of books that anyone can borrow, for FREE. You just read them, and then bring them back. And every time you borrow a book, the author gets paid a tiny bit of money. This helps authors keep writing). 


Anyway, kids loved the library because the old librarian (who liked stories) used to have storytime every day. Students loved the library because they could do their homework there - and meet girls, or boys, who liked to read (totally the best kind). Old people loved the library, because they could meet their friends there, borrow books that had gone out of print, and have a cup of tea. Some old people lked to borrow books that their children deemed UNSUITABLE for them, like LOLITA. It was allowed. No-one stopped them. Readers' groups loved the library, because authors used to do readings there and answer questions about their books. And the librarian loved the library, because it was his life's work. It looked like a room full of old books, but actually it was a room of a hundred thousand windows, each one looking out onto a different world. 


But there was one person who didn't like the library. This was the Mayor of the village. It wasn't that the Mayor didn't like books. I fact, he owned several. He also had a library of his own - well, not quite a library. These were all the Mayor's own books, bought in bulk by his interior designer. None of them were ever lent out, and of course, there was no librarian. And the Mayor said: "The library is old. The roof leaks. It's outdated. There are books in there that haven't been taken out for years." And he said: "We have to make CUTS. We have no choice. It's either the library or the school, or the old peoples' home. Or the poor." And because the Mayor was Mayor (as well as being very rich), the villagers believed him, and really thought they had no choice. Some people suggested that the cuts might not be necessary as the Mayor seemed to think. Some even suggested taking the BANKS instead of the poor, but they were quickly dismissed as radicals. Some well-meaning people said that cutting POVERTY was surely the priority...but poverty has more than one face, thought the old librarian. Some things can't be bought with money. And so he protested - timidly. He was a very polite old librarian. But what can one old librarian do? "We can't fight PROGRESS," said the Mayor. "We have to TIGHTEN OUR BELTS." (In fact the Mayor's belt was already tight, but this was simply because he was very, very fat.) Things looked hopeless for the old librarian, and for all those in the village who couldn't afford a private library like the Mayor's. And that's enough storytime for now. Will the old librarian win? Or will it be the fat Mayor? Cont'd after lunch. Bring cake. x


Today is Save Libraries day. Libraries up and down the country are holding protests, having author talks and mass readings. The acts themselves may not save the libraries but the unison of people showing how much libraries are loved will definitely prove that they are SO needed. Now hush up, Scarlett is lost in America and I need to put myself in her shoes for the next few hours, amongst the beanbags... #savelibraries

I tried the antidepressant Mirtazapine and was soon trapped in a relentless dream about the Smurfs

Dear FDA,

The loony psychiatrist gave me a drug to sample that he said, if taken even in a small dose, would take care of my occasional insomnia and also perk up my spirits a bit. It is called Mirtazipine  Mirtazipone Mirtazapine (aka Remeron), and it messed my head up so badly I can no longer spell and now write love sonnets to Gargamel, the evil wizard from the Smurfs, in my spare time.

Write down "Mirtazapine" so that you NEVER TAKE IT, FDA officer! Is your name Gladys, or Bob? I would like to make this as personal as possible.

This drug is the most vile and evil poison since the invention of "roofies," "mickeys," and other potions favored by date rapists. I took 1/4 of a 15 mg pill Thursday night before bed. Within minutes, I was out colder than a whacked haddock and had started to dream about the fucking Smurfs. I was hanging out with Gargamel and his horrible cat Azriel. I wasn't even on the side of good! Gargamel's eyebrows sit on top of his misshapen skull like two fat black caterpillars. His hair is extremely oily.

Do you think I liked looking at this, Bob? Gladys? No! I did not.

"Jazz hands" would have looked a little less sinister, Gargamel. Just sayin'.

Note I say 1/4 of one pill. If I had taken the whole pill, I would probably have been swept into the Smurf Vortex FOREVER and Smurfette would be my best pal, and we would be texting each other some shit all the time, like about this Smurf and that Smurf, and how—oh God, this is all really horrible to contemplate.

I warn you, FDA officer, that this drug is bad news. At one point I woke up because one of my sons was crying, right in my ear. He was crying so hard he was blowing bubbles of snot. He gets growing pains in his legs and sometimes, at night, he wants them rubbed. I heard my husband groan: "Not again! I was up with him an hour ago."

I couldn't remember how to sit up. When I finally figured it out, I couldn't remember how to stand up. My legs looked like stuffed scarecrow legs, and I stared down at them stupidly. I tried to speak but all that came out was "wuh-no-no-no-no." I slumped back into the bed.

This time I had dreams in which I read entire books of 17th-century poetry, ate buttered toast from a giant toasting rack, and was allowed to visit the Smurf village and consort merrily with the Smurfs in fields of daisies. They seemed to accept me and forgave the fact I had so recently spent time with the wicked Gargamel (whom I missed, as he had been something of a father figure to me).

After sleeping and sleeping like the dead through noises of all kinds, and perhaps even a fire (who knows?), I finally awoke to a blistering headache and a hideous hungover feeling, as if I'd been up all night doing shots of Jagermeister. I spent all day feeling like hot, groggy poo, and nearly walking into walls. Plus I feel like the Smurfs may have stolen some of my IQ and are using it to brew new potions to tempt unwary depressives and anxiety sufferers.

I hate medications. 

Into the garbage with ye, Mirtazapine! Badbadbad poison. Smurf go 'way. Make a note of it, Gladys!

And I thought last week was crazy

Yes I know I said I would do one of these every weekend, get over it :)

Was the first week of mocks last week, the bad week :, got through it though ;) Art was a complete and epic fail Monday, my bear looked like a tard with a wonky eye, ah well I'll just try harder next time. All the others were okay, apart from Chemistry and Physics, let's not even go there, let's just laugh in its face, HA. Stupid subjects. Finally did my French oral and got an A! BAM! Je suis un genius. Only have 4 exams left now :) Yay *claps* French reading and writing, PE theory, Business and Maths calculator, I can live with them.

In other news: I got my Gap Year prizes! xD the NZ books are hilarious, love the Maori one, I now know how to say "Shut the fuck up" in Maori, brilliant. Ipod is gooooood, the video I found on it was better though ;D but the signed photo of Jonny Nutz was the best, framed next to my laptop and the background on my phone, oh yesssss.

In other other news: I was the ONLY person to know who @TheXFactor was!!! :D Out of thousands of people! HOW AMAZING IS THAT! I'm a genius. http://xfactor.itv.com/2009/episodes/video/item_201010.htm

In other other other news: MILEY CYRUS AND METRO STATION WERE INCREDIBLE!!!! That is all.

Au-revoir mes amis, next blog shall be before Christmas, I promise x