Wednesday, May 27, 2009

After my sausage I did some flossage in my cottage

Have you ever thought that you were okay with something? And then something happens and you realise you were totally kidding yourself? You're not okay, not even close. You're sat safe and sound in the bunker listening to the house fall down above you.

This is, clearly, a hypothetical question.

If I did have a metaphorical bunker, Scott Matthews would be playing in it. His new album is like an audio stress reliever. The only problem is when you turn it off and remember why you were so stressed in the first place. There's a lesson in there - don't turn him off.

The gig was nice. The Ruby Lounge was nice. The drive to Manchester was nice. The bar staff were nice. The stamp on my hand was nice.

Scott sang like an angel. I really do think he's stolen the voice of an angel, it's just impossible for someone to sing so beautifully.

My Frank Turner induced buzz hasn't worn off, I'm just sulking cause my cookies aren't turning out as

well as last time, blogger is being petulant with me and I said something really stupid today.

I was invited to the most important day of someone's life. It's touching to be told you mean more to someone than their own family. Or at least equal to. The sad thing is that someone's had to let them down for me to be invited. They didn't tell me that, but I'm pretty sure it's true.

How can I let them down too?

I can't. I won't. I'm there.





I will blog more coherently later, promise.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Apolcalypse Please

So my guilt trip is over. I can stop feeling bad about all the things I've been neglecting because now I am neglecting them no more. But the busyness continues because next week I have:

- 3 shifts
- 1 exam
- 1 gig
- 1 day of cleaning (a.k.a. the day before my parents come home)
- 1 meal
- 1 day of hanging with my friends

So yeah, busy. I guess I really wanted to post because people have been asking me what I want for my birthday. I'm all for telling people what I want. It saves me having to fake enthusiasm over gifts that I really didn't want. I mean, occasionally someone gets me a REALLY awesome surprise (Toni once got me White Stripes tickets, Vic got me a Liverpool shirt, Skinny and Krista once made me a photo album) and I love it when this happens. But it is rare (and generally only achieved by those who know me best).

So I present to you my My Amazon Wishlist!

I'd like to point out that this should only be used for my birthday and not to freak me out by sending anonymous gifts. Also the price of presents generally ranges from £2.50-£32. Feel no pressure to buy me something super expensive! I'm generally very happy with a CD :)

Anyway, tis Skinny's birthday before mine! Honestly!

Monday, May 18, 2009

We Interrupt This Broadcast to Announce...

... I'm not dead.


Though I do appreciate the emails and texts enquiring as to my health. It kind of felt like I was awol last week. But really, I was just on the go a lot. Of course, a lot of things can happen in a week. So allow me to fill you in.

- My folks went on holiday. Rob and I are co-habiting peacefully (Rob just cooked steak and potato gratin and I'll wash up later) but the house does feel a bit... big.

- I got the Maccabees 2nd album after hearing 'Love You Better' and falling in love with it. I must admit, so far, I'm rather disappointed with it. It's very whiny.

- I baked lemon and white chocolate cookies and they went down rather well. Esp with my brother who has been happily devouring them all weekend.

- I didn't revise. But I am revising now.

- I bumped into Steve Bruce (literally).

-Ohmygosh it's less than a month till I turn 21.

- I watched 'Lost Boys'. It was okay, but Kirsty and Toni might have built it up a little too much.

- I also watched 'The Wackness' which I thought was gonna suck but didn't :)

- George fucked up my earphones so I bought these:

MMMmmm Skull Candy. They haven't arrived yet so I'm stuck dealing with my half working ipod buds, which means I'm reluctant to leave the house. Sad, but true. George might have done me a favour though. I'm no sound expert, but I've been told by tons of people how much better I can do than apple earphones.

But I don't like in-ear buds which didn't really leave me with a lot of choice. So now I'm going old-school with these and we'll see how it goes.

Do you guys have a book that you just seem to read every year? I mean apart from Twilight? This morning I was feeling pretty low so I pulled 'Just Listen' from my bookshelf and quickly found myself four chapters in. Despite being a highly emotionally challenging book, I just seem to read it all the time. At least once a year.

In the same way I can always watch 'You've Got Mail', no matter what the day or mood and listen to Incubus without ever getting bored.

I guess I could make up a tag with this little revelation, but tagging is so myspace/facebook culture that it often repels me. Okay, so if you guys are stuck for something to blog about tell the world what: a)book b)film and c)music/band/song you never tire of. Just a suggestion.

Oh and I'd like to add that I'm supremely disappointed in the blogging rate in general. Only Toni seems to be blogging regularly anymore. I don't blog for a week and suddenly everyone living away at uni is on my back about it, but the only people who do blog regularly are people I can have a coffee with whenever I want!

Get off your ass all you uni slobs and post something!

Sunday, May 10, 2009


Passports don't come cheap these days. Remember the time when you could get a new passport for £25?

No, neither do I actually. Some dude at work was trying to convince me he got his last one for just 25 quid. He was also talking all night and not listening to a word anyone said to him. At first I didn't mind him, now I'm nearing "can't stand that guy" mode.

Unfortunately, I have three shifts this week so I'm kind of stuck with him. Work is bad enough without annoying co-workers. The thing is, I generally like the people I work with. Even my boss (Head Chef Mark) isn't so bad and my superviser (Meme) is sound as a pound. I generally don't care if people at work don't like me since I always outlast them.

Until now. I am the temporary fixture now. In just a few short months it will be time to look for another, more permanent job. I will have to release my safety net of the stadium and swim solo. And even though I won't miss scrubbing pans until my fingers prune or drying blisteringly hot plates fresh out of the dishwasher, I will miss my co-workers and even the place itself. No matter how terrible and low-paid my job is, it is rarely boring and oddly satisfying at the end of the night when the kitchen is clean, the plates are dry and stacked, the rubbish is gone and you turn out the light.

Needless to say, I really hate it when people question my commitment to my job. What is so wrong with staying in one place? Or with working hard? Not everyone moves on the minute they have the chance. And there's plenty of things to love about the JJB. How else would I have met so many famous people? Do you wander past David James in the lobby at your workplace? Or have to go on an emergency nutella run because Adebayor needs chocolate spread on his post-match sandwiches?

No, you don't.

I guess I didn't mean to go on a rant about my job. I just wanted to inform you of my busyness this week. Funny how sometimes things can just spill out.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

If You Feel Like Dancing

At times like this, when everything is up in the air and I have no home, no clue, no ground beneath my feet... it is good to know that there are some things that never change. They remain tangent, consistent, impossibly permanent.

Like your bed and the way it wraps itself around you, protecting, consoling, reveling, remembering. Or friends who never really understand how wonderful and dear they are to you. And gigs. The sway of the crowd. The press of bodies. The common love. The comaraderie.

And pizza. And Twilight. And 3am. And brews.

Ooops, now I'm just talking about last night.

Bishop Allen were a lot of fun and I can't express how glad I am that we went (cheers Dan! you may take credit for the idea!). In fact yesterday was just... good. Not explosive or bipolar. Just good, consistently good. We hung with Mark Stevenson, we talked to Vic, we missed friends faraway. We scoped out cute boys (well, I did).
I tried Bubble Tea. Toni tried Bubble Tea. Dan spat out Bubble Tea. We didn't like it. But I shall persist! And the experience itself was lovely. Besides, now I know exactly where Chinatown is.

Maybe next time I'll try the chocolate flavour? Or a fruit tea? I'm so determined to like this, it's really rather petulant.

As for the match, well I've watched the highlights today (and when I say highlights I really mean Drogba and Ballack's laughable- I mean disgraceful behaviour). When I went out the gig to check on the match it was 1-0. Really, can you imagine my delight right now?

I really don't think so.

Tuesday, May 05, 2009


So more than one person had alerted me to the creation of a Donnie Darko sequel. And, despite the sequel having nothing to do with the incredible Richard Kelly, my curiosity got the better of me.

As the title suggests, this film focuses on the story of the now 17-year-old Samantha Darko and her quest for peace. Thankfully, Samantha at least is from the original cast. Samantha and her unremarkable friend are on a roadtrip and get stuck in some hick little town. And thus the story unwinds.

Okay, so I was all ready to loathe this film. And purists will. A Donnie Darko sequel should never have been made. But this isn't a true sequel. As the title suggests, the film is a 'Donnie Darko Tale'. And if you watch it with that in mind, it's not bad. It's no Donnie Darko, but as a film in it's own right it's not horrible.

Daveigh Chase is absolutely captivating to watch. And Jackson Rathbone (a.k.a. JASPER HALE!) as crazy geek Jeremy is adorable. The score (though not a patch on Michael Andrews' in Donnie Darko) is beautiful. It's missing those snippets of dialogue or completely original scenes that made DD a cult classic (e.g. the smurf sex discussion or faeces are baby mice) but some of the cinematography is just as exquisite.

I'd say watch the film yourself, make up your own mind. No film will ever be as wonderful as Donnie Darko (Richard Kelly's second film, 'The Box', sounds, in my opinion, awful). But s.Darko wasn't a waste of film.

Monday, May 04, 2009


Lately it feels like I've just got this huge pile of things unfinished. How irritating! And it's hardly like many of them are boring (just that last 2,000 word essay). Like mostly it's stuff like watching films (s.Darko, Wall-E, In The Land Of Women), watching TV (Roswell, Gossip Girl and Red Dwarf), finishing books (Wicked dammnit!) and listening to music (a lot, a lot, a lot of Bishop Allen!).

Torture, right?

The real problem is trying to not start new things (though I'm just itching to watch some of the new Spring Season anime).

And I have a few things to blog about, but maybe I should go finish something first?

Silly isn't it how someone offering you a polo can be interpreted in a million different ways?

When Lucas scored his first premiership goal yesterday, silent tears poured down my face. It felt like a sign - both me and him had begun to overcome our adversities :)

Friday, May 01, 2009


My piercing is six weeks old! I named him (for some reason both my piercings have boys' names) Sixth and not just because he's my sixth piercing.

I got my eyebrow pierced on my 18th birthday and named it 'Francis' in honour of a boy from the stadium (who was actually called James, but by then his Prince Francis nickname had stuck) after he came up to me and told me how cool he thought it looked :)

A few months later, I wrote a story about 'Prince Francis' and his favourite cousin, Sixth (named as such because he is sixth in line for the throne), so the name just seemed to fit my new adornment.

The infants dipped their tiny hands under the fountain of wine. In formation that mortal children would have been incapable of, they dispersed amongst the guests, offering their cupped hands as they went. Not a one spilled a drop.
Francis presided over the dancing, sat atop his black throne, doing his best impression of God. Whispers followed Sixth like a crowd of hungry mosquitoes as he approached the dais.
“Have you come to ask me to dance, Sixth?” Francis drawled, examining his fingernails.
Sixth threw the bracelet at Francis’ feet.
“Tell me the meaning of this,” he demanded.
Francis cocked his head to one side. “A present for your new pet. Why so angry, Sixth? You’re causing a scene.”
“I don’t have a new pet! I don’t have a pet at all!” Sixth half-screamed.
The revellers had stopped to watch the commotion. Francis smirked. He loved an audience.
“I’m tired, Sixth. I won’t allow them to look for her any longer. Besides, the new girl is much more diverting,” he declared as one of his guards stooped to pick up the bracelet.
“Silence!” The Prince’s onyx eyes narrowed as he stood, slowly. “You may be my most beloved cousin, but first and foremost you are the sixth heir to my throne. I know your heart to be good, but what of hers? Have you failed to notice the murder of two of my own younger siblings before your beloved conveniently disappeared?”
Sixth’s lips were sealed, not only by the command of his sovereign. The spirit of fun had abandoned the celebration. Francis slumped back down onto his throne. Sixth began to panic: had he finally fallen out of favour?
Incredibly, Francis’ face lit up in a smile, but his gaze was upon someone beyond Sixth. Every head in the room turned.
Hannah didn’t shrink from their stares. Her long, straggly brown hair had been tamed into sleek curls and her dress was the same colour as her bewitching eyes, giving her already pale skin an ethereal glow.
Francis stood once more and approached her. The crowd parted and Francis extended an arm to cradle her chin with his long fingers.
“How was this mistake made?” He murmured to himself, “You are clearly far more beautiful.”
Finally she did flinch, but only from the compliment. Francis laughed, a laugh as warm as custard poured over treacle tart.
“Someone honour this girl with a dance,” he demanded, releasing her from his encompassing gaze.