well

it's new years again. hasn't the whole new years thing worn off a bit? it's not as good as christmas and all you get to do is get drunk and embarass yourself. don't get me wrong, usually i love doing those things, and i'm hella good at them, but i don't like doing them in the false name of an event. if i want to puke in the street and shout at a dog, i'm not going to pretend it's 'because it's the new year'. no. i just want to do it because it's fun. but hey, if the reason other people are doing it is new year then i'm going to join in. still won't say happy new year though.
that said, it's just going to be a large one tonight at the heaton hall massiv! i'm just going to refuse to say happy new years as usual and continue to do as i please in the name of ' i am hammered'.



and to follow this lovely sentiment....



WORD TO YOUR MOMS I CAME TO DROP BOMBS, I GOT MORE RHYMES THAN THE BIBLE GOT PSALMS

wooooooooo

apparently

i have some strange standards when it comes to food. i had not previously been aware of this, except obviously for all the jokes my family make about how much i eat. which they do, and they all take great joy in. luckily i am a confident person, and am not convinced that a healthy appetite makes me greedy etc. so i take it in my stride. either way, i hadn't realised that apparently my habits to do with food are odd, but upon actually revising them i've realised that i'm basically the rainman of food. here are three examples: judge for yourselves.

1. if a meal with a boiled egg is being eaten, the egg is to be saved until last. if in a sauce based dish, a small portion of sauce must be saved with which to eat the special saved egg.

2. small sweets (celebrations, ferrero roche etc.) must be eaten in either twos or fives depending on what you fancy. if two, your second favourite one comes first, then your favourite. if five, your favourite, your second favourite, your third favourite, your second favourite and then your favourite again.

3. cooked meals of things like meat and vegs have to be eaten in turns. mouthful of meat, then veg, then meat with veg, then a sip of drink and repeat.


am i obviously autistic? or just neat? i don't know. but i've just had my fifth celebration, and it's time to stop.

UR

it was christmas, and now it isn't. hurrah! i've been shunning social interaction by convincing myself that i have a cold (i don't) and staying inside eating cheese and playing fallout new vegas.
which is terrible.
forgive me the nerd spiel, i know no-one likes an amateur game review. but new vegas is really really awful. i'm level nine after ten hours work, and i am still getting killed by giant gold geckos (?)
gah.
now i'm watching the gilmore girls and i'm about to have a lush bathbomb bath. steve kindly got me a bathbomb set for chrimbo, after i gave him a copy of the walking dead that his wife had already given him, so a failure on my part, and i feel like a bathbomb bath would be nice for my imaginary illness.
i'm going to post an excellent photo of me and my knitted green dragon if i can figure out how.

enjoy defaced posters?

david cameron has more defaced posters than anyone ever

enjoy them here:


http://www.moneymad.org/David_Cameron_defaced_posters.htm

huhdkjhdkj

why not?

merry present-mas

some wants

it's a very dark day

liberal democrats let us all down. we expected it of the tories, but i actually expected better from lib dems. i'm sad to say i expected too much. education is no longer a right, but a privilege. student fees have tripled. the end is nigh. ANARRRRCCCHHHHYYYYYYYYYYY
or something, i don't know, i didn't protest. i don't really care about anything enough to protest on its behalf. except my mum, but i don't think anyone's going to outlaw her any day soon.









anyway

SOME STUPID CONCEPTS

advertising and campaigning are getting to be even stupider than the people they're aiming to catch. here are my thoughts.

the 'it gets better' videos? oh wow, how great! celebrities are teaming up to make videos encouraging gay youths not to kill themselves because when you're not a gay teenager, you're a gay adult. how sweet. weirdly enough though, i haven't seen any saying ' don't worry, by the time you're too old to get bullied in school, you'll be an adult unable to serve in your own military force, get married, or adopt! it gets better!' well done america, really covered yourself there. i'll be fair though, 'it gets worse' isn't really a catchy slogan.
also on the american side is the silence campaign where celebrities are deleting their twitter accounts for charity or some shit. i can't somehow imagine the idea that deleting your twitter account could ever benefit anyone ever. that's the best effort you can make? why not just give some money you tight bastards, you're all loaded! and usher's broken his stupid promise before the campaign's even over. he's risking a serious amount of chris brown treatment from people.
but the worst one of all: changing your facebook profile picture to one of your favourite childhood cartoon character to protest against child abuse.

what
the
fuck.

i mean, seriously. what the actual fuck. does anyone actually think it'll make an iota of difference what their profile picture is of? do they actually hold such massive importance to facebook that they think it'll stop child abuse? do people think that rapey uncle roger will log on to facebook, see a picture of scooby doo and think 'you know, enough is enough. i'm done with raping children!' no. that's not going to happen. it doesn't even occur to people to DONATE MONEY. which might actually make a speck of difference. instead they call attention to a cause, and then do nothing about it. they should actually feel guilty for 'caring' enough to change their profile picture and then do fuck all valuable about something they obviously feel 'so seriously' about. boy is my face red for putting my opinion on facebook though, since it's been received so well. you'd think i was actually advocating child abuse rather than commenting on the complete stupidity of the whole idea. it's just another fake way for people to pretend they have principles but then make no effort to change anything.

i hate people sometimes.

hazy days

do you ever get the feeling that your head is full of cotton wool? i do. 'spacey' is the kind way people usually describe my tendencies to gaze glassy-eyed at walls and then sniff, blink and say 'sorry, what?' but in actual fact i am fairly sure i am in contact with worlds beyond our own...
haha, got you.
no, i just don't pay attention most of the time. but maybe it's the copious quantities of snow in newcastle settling on my brain and fuzzing me out more than usual. it's so snowy here, and yes i know, english people think that an inch of snow is terrifying, but we're talking serious serious up to the knees blizzards. this never, ever happens, so i am completely flabberghasted about snow couture. i've been wearing primark wellies, a tatty old fur coat and a giant wooden handled old lady umbrella so i look like rupert the bear sporting a neon pink coiffure. i'm sure it's sexy. i have no idea how to face snow though. just walking to university is like a freezing wet assault course. i half expect a drill sergeant to start pushing me over and screaming IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO? because what with not being the most gifted with co-ordination, i have been falling over more than is my usual precedent. no, i've opted for indoor relaxation; brideshead revisited, blankets, velour tracksuit (guilty pleasure), and earl grey tea. the only reason i'd leave the house is for some kind of serious reason, which there isn't as of yet, so hurrah!

THINGS I HATE MOST ABOUT THE SNOW

1. slush. snow is very pretty when you're inside and warm and it's picturesque, but the problem is that snow has to be walked on. and when snow is walked on, it turns into grey freezing slippery goo. which is neither picturesque nor practical. then people throw salt in it, as if that does anything other than make it slippery and gritty. i saw a woman throwing saxo on her doorstep this morning and i just wanted to scream IT'S NOT GOING TO WORK at her.

2. snowballs. i have always deeply, deeply loathed snowballs. the idea that at any second a wet icy thing could hit me makes me walk like a suspicious vulture. combine the vulture hunching with my robust high knee strides, and you've got one stupid looking person. all the children in jesmond seem to smell my fear, like cruel dogs in school uniform, and they instantly pelt me. i haven't cried yet, just turned around and tried to look stern, but i'm sure they'll crack me soon.

3. having to wear lots of layers. not that i am exactly having to forsake daisy dukes and crop tops, but wearing a tee-shirt, shirt, jumper, hoody and coat is excessive even for me. it looks like i've gained about four stone every time i get dressed.

4. how cold my house is. i rent an attic in a student area, so naturally the walls are made of paper and spit. the windows are plastic. it is so cold in here that i have to sleep in my dressing gown. in fact, i have a special system of sleeping just so that i don't get hypothermia during the night and die. i put on tights and a tee-shirt, then pyjamas, then dressing gown. then i make a pouch of blanket for my feet, and another blanket is worn on the head like a turban, then i get in and shiver my way to sleep. it's horrific.

5. the fact that getting up is even harder. as if i didn't already have long discussions with myself in the mornings about whether i should bother getting up or not, i have to genuinely force myself to leave the house at all. i've hardly been to uni this week, but i've gone to work because i need the money so i can buy blankets and cocoa.

6. having showers is now horrible. the idea of actually being naked makes me shudder now, because i am too cold to do it. getting in the shower is enough of a gamble anyway, what with the delightful tendency it has to boil/freeze you, but now it's impossible. i probably smell, but i don't care, i can't smell myself so it's not my problem.

i think i've vented most of my snow-based rage. that and my heater is cheering me up with warms.

all by myself

having spent every sunday since july working at hmv, i particularly enjoy sunday evenings. previous to the working, sundays were my favourite day of the week. they're like a day that doesn't really count, where time passes slowly and there's no pressure. it's a great, great day. unfortunately it is the only day i am contracted to work seven and a half hours a week. with a great sigh every week, i trudge my way in at ten and trudge my way out at six. it's shit.
my sunday evenings are this very important to me, as they are the only scrap of the day i salvage. sunday evening is my oasis in a crowded, noisy world, and i use it to my advantage. oh yes, my favourite things all happen: tidying, the dishes, baths, doing work for monday, lazing, the gilmore girls, nail polishing, eating wagon wheels and drinking earl grey, writing these blogs etc etc. the glorious shenanigans i get up to are great. as of tonight, i have gotten straight into bed, browsed the internet, polished my nails ( barry m. mint green), eaten a wagon wheel, and am watching the gilmore girls. it's going pretty darn well so far. soon, i will descend into a lavender smelling bubbly bath and read my latest cluster of books, maybe with incense (cranberry) and candles. depending on how luxuriant i am feeling.
i dyed my hair flamingo pink once more, to much glowing review. the people have spoken, and they speak in favour of flamingo pink. here it is in the top along with my nose:



















pig is being a librarian with my tatty devine glasses necklace. i find myself endlessly hilarious.
i think i'm going to go and get more tea.

you've always been a failure, but now you're bearing strange new fruits

well golly, i've spent the last hour cutting out pictures from magazines and sticking them on my walls, and listening to the dresden dolls. i'm 14 again.
tonight i voyage out into the bititing northern cold to see mungo's hi-fi. i don't like reggae, or dub-step, so i don't know why, but heck. i need a reason to wear my black velvet dress that makes me feel like an iceskater, i think that's probably it. teaming that with a big fur coat may keep me warm, so there's a chance i won't die of hypothermia.
it's only five weeks to christmas though. jesus. literally. i haven't bought any presents except my mum's. i bought her a crocheted moomin that i've had to go to great lengths to hide from myself in case i fall more in love with it and eventually cannot be parted. i might just go and buy another one in all fairness, £16 for a crocheted moomin is £16 well spent in my eyes.
it's almost that elusive time again, when i dye my roots. i honestly do let them get extravagantly long purely because i'm so lazy. they get to about 3 inches, then i put my foot down and dye them. it takes anything from 2 to 3 months, but then i have proper hair again. i've ordered the dye off ebay again (directions - flamingo pink) so as soon as it arrives, it's bleach blitz.


more importantly, as it is actually the point of this blog, i submitted a poem to a creative writing competition, and here it is:

Said Wretched Crow to Starving Wolf,

‘Imagine, my friend, if we ruled the world.’

‘Imagine us, just we two, roaming as we pleased,

Caring for no other, ambling and casting our rule over the land,

Flying over river and sea, consuming all that came across our paths.’

Padding gently, Starving Wolf thought quietly to himself.

A crimson desert moon soaked him in red light,

And he seemed to bloodily shine.

‘Perhaps,’ he said quietly,

‘Our places were given to us in consideration of our temperaments.’

Wretched Crow puzzled awhile,

And floated in the hot night air.

‘Explain yourself, friend. Your hesitance for greater things confuses me’

‘Could greatness be achieved by things so carnivorous as we?’ asked Starving Wolf

‘A terrible reign we’d have, you and I.’

Said Wretched Crow lustily in a drawling caw.

‘Feasting as we pleased, pulling seeping eyes from sockets,

Rending flesh and muscle from bone. No longer skulking in darkness.

Shouldn’t you care to reign with me?’

‘A world found in blood and teeth disturbs my countenance.

Solitary, I was meant to be, as are you.

Casting a furious wrath on the world would not suit us,

Especially you, who hovers above bodies and lives on death.

We weren’t meant for power, only loneliness and decay.’

Damp breezes licked the fur and feathers of the two,

And flies hummed tunefully by the dirt.

‘I see you are not meant for greater things, friend’ said Wretched Crow.

‘But never mind. I’ll find another companion with whom to share my dream.

I shall fly onwards and upwards,

Leaving you in my wake to think on my words.

What a world we could have made,

Where we were kings.

I should have liked it, so very much.’

Wretched Crow swept away, loose greasy feathers raining behind him,

Showering Starving Wolf, who walked ever onwards.

He sighed, and forever he shall walk alone beneath the moon,

In a desert devoid of friend or love,

As Wretched Crow hungrily drums the barren earth,

Wanting some flesh to share with a friend.

now it's off to shower, get dressed and draw on my eyebrows.

blurgh

the black hole of ennui has once again swallowed me. i'm working from 4 until 8 tomorrow, meaning i'll miss my yoga class, and it has tipped me over the proverbial edge. not in a stupid fall-out boy, black hair dye way, just in the sense of fed-up-ness.
university is different than i thought it would be. me and jane were milling over it this morning over mini chicken fajitas --spelt fahjitas on the menu, which upset me-- and nachos. i had naively thought that a degree in creative writing would open the wide world of writing to me, but it turns out our seminars are taught from textbooks. our exercises are done with textbooks. our lecturers are all failed writers who constantly harp on about their 'past success' (allow me a derisive snort) and what shit thing they're working on now. most of the people on the course are drama students who want to write scripts, and i HATE drama students. they're in my top 5 most hated things in all existance list. i imagined my course as a dimly lit, incense smelling mecca of the creative talent of my generation. i imagined berets, literary arguments, tiny leather notebooks for writing down inspirations too important not to be captured immediately, red wine and most of all, fellow book enthusiastists. i got kids fresh from their a levels, drama students, stupid rah idiots, and generally the scum of the earth who don't even enjoy reading. one girl showed us her sex bruises yesterday with absolutely no invitation to do so, and then cackled raucously at her own disturbing lust for violence. sex stories make me wriggly and uncomfortable so i nearly threw up on my notebook. i turned quietly to daniel and said
'make her stop daniel.'
'i don't think i can.'
'jesus wept.'

but, just to keep things in perspective, i enjoy the poetry, most of the assignments, most of the booklist and most of the literature lectures. especially the ones on themes, which are excellent. it's not a bad course, i'm just very anti-social and have a low tolerance for people who enjoy drama. but i am biased, and a snob. i consider 99% of people to be living dirt, so my opinion is moot.

anyway, i am feeling fed uppy. i think i might dye my hair purple to cheer myself up, just because i can. or just sit and read blogs and eat ritz crackers straight out of the box. or shave away my winter leg hair that is accumulating very fast. or do an improv dance routine in my room, if it isn't too arctic. or buy something small off the internet. or draw a full sleeve on my arm of cats. we'll see. i know i'll have to have a shower though, because i went to the gym and collapsed afterwards without showering, which is decidedly manky.

i'm dreaming

of a white christmas! it's almost time to get the bing crosby christmas album out again and start decking the halls. it's pig's first christmas, so i want to make it super christmassy, even though he's a cat and doesn't even know what christmas, or indeed words, are.

i love best coast, listening to them makes me feel dreamy and like i should be wearing a swingy dress.
i made my first terrifying excursion to the gym in ages the other day, in preparation for operation get-really-fat-at-christmas; an operation that is resurrected yearly. basically, i'm going to lose weight to balance out the weight i will inevitably gain from scoffing mince pies and mulled wine in an orgiastic 30 day long celebration of the birth of our tiny lord. or something. i forget what the point of christmas is, apart from the food. in order to better prepare this year, i've put myself into a grooming routine including going on the bouncer (the machine at the gym that i use that isn't a cross trainer, but it bounces you up and down like one) and doing yoga on wednesdays. having never been to yoga, i look forward to a clean aura and unclogged chakras and so on so forth. maybe i'll find my calling and become a spiritual wild child with flowers in my hair and dirty feet. i got a do it yourself pilates video a while ago, which was horrific, so my hopes for yoga are high. i don't know what to wear though, i think jogging bottoms will be unharmonious. it will just have to be scabby leggings. hopefully buddha or whatever won't care. but anyway.
here is a picture of me trapped in a giant heart made of hands:



















good stuff. you can tell i've been taking my vitamins, because i look more lustrous than usual. my pelt is unusually glossy.

shit

since i was little, i've always thought my mum was pretty much the coolest person i know. odd, but true. she's the one who introduced me to pixies, the smiths, donnie darko and many things that i really like now. i've just been thinking about it, and i remember my past little fixation with jackie kennedy onassis. mainly, her career as first lady and also her relation to the 'grey gardens' documentary. edith beale
the first time i saw 'grey gardens' it genuinely freaked me out. the women in it are unhinged, living in squalor, and completely in a world of their own. it just made me wonder who was sick enough to turn them into a documentary because it was exploitative. but after years of thinking about it, it's now more like art really. it's completely immersive, and a bit shocking, but incredibly cerebral. you don't just watch it, you genuinely get involved in this bizarre little world. i recommend having a look at it, it's pretty moving.

just when

i thought i had my weird blogger obsession reigned in, i become fixated on reading karley sciortinos blog all the way through. check it out at www.slutever.org
it's the business.

what fresh hell

http://www.asos.com/Asos/Asos-Premium-Aqua-Feather-Cape/Prod/pgeproduct.aspx?iid=1005658&cid=1929&sh=0&pge=1&pgesize=20&sort=-1&clr=Blue
i really don't understand this, but then again i don't have a dying urge to fly into the sun.


it's been days 2, 3, 4, and 5 for project vegan and man alive am i having porn dreams about cheese. seriously, it's like m&s adverts for food in my head all the time. tofu and soy just doesn't cut it. lentils are groovy and all, but they could use some bacon. the novelty of it all has worn off, now i just miss milk a LOT.

day one

ok i said at some point i would do a week of veganism. me being me, i said this with little commitment; but today, i commenced. i decided to intrepidly go where few non-hipsters have gone before and be

A VEGAN


and so i am embarking on a possible week of misery or self-discovery, and will strive to finally answer the age-old question: what the fuck do vegans eat?
can i do it? can i actually do it? only soy-time will tell. i will remind you that this means: no meat, no cheese, no milk and no eggs. this will be difficult seeing as these are pretty much all of my favourite foods.

so this morning i had fruit juice and some dry toast. blergh. i did no preparation whatsover so i went in blind. by lunch time i was starving beyond belief, so scoured the city centre for an animal friendly lunch. i made a veritable feast of a plain baked potato and salad with vinegar, and a veggie samosa. such was my commitment that i ate the whole meal, even the potato, with my bare hands. i only did that because i forgot to get a fork, but whatever. my friends were impressed by my dedication on campus, and both pitied and laughed at me. i went and bought soy milk (gross) soy butter (yum) and soy yoghurt (yum) after work, having formed a massive headache in a seminar. i think it's meat withdrawal, but i don't know for sure. i got home and made cous cous with quorn sausages and fried peppers with courgette fritters. v. good surprisingly. after a slightly rough start, project vegan is going well. i'm hoping to start radiating organic animal product free beauty after a few days, but i accept that this probably isn't a thing.
here endeth day one.

(n.b. does anyone know if vegans eat honey? i mean, i know no animal by-products, but bees aren't animals? is shunning honey only for super-vegans? i don't know. i don't really care either, because i'm going to eat honey. call me a cheater if you like, but don't forget to fuck yourself first!)

(n.n.b i just looked it up: vegans don't eat honey. shit. no honey for me for the rest of the week. sorry about the fucking yourselves thing)

six things i have learnt

1. just because you're at university doesn't mean you're clever. i spent 50 minutes today listening to a lecturer explain an annotated bibliography. apparently, the bibliography was just that damn difficult. according to the government, arts degrees are getting their funds cut soon by two thirds. i'm already on a course though, so nah nah nah-nah nah. take that, less privileged youths!

2.

katy perry - california gurls is a terrible terrible song.
i hate this song not only because of everything about it, but the context it has spawned. my facebook is now flooded with groups like 'california gurls have nothing on geordie lasses' and so on. and the part where katy perry lactates is quite frankly disgusting. her cleavage on sesame street was hilarious though (and eye-popping), i can just imagine the reactions in my head:
'hey sport! you wanna watch some sesame street? hey, i know! how about we learn about dress-up with elmo and katy perry?'
'daaaaaaad, we've watched this episode like 100 times, can't we watch a different one?'
'no.'



3. jamie lee curtis taete is my new favourite person. i've been obsessively reading his articles on viceland all afternoon, and i think i'm in sarcastic love.
http://www.viceland.com/fashion/2010/02/london-fashion-week-jamie-taete-doesnt-know-shit-about-fashion/

4. there are ways to knit a dog
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/gallery/2010/oct/05/knitting-craft
if only i had the drive or patience to do this. the little sheepdog makes me go all gooey.

5. i'm taking up veganism for a week, starting monday. i've been researching reasons to take up veganism, other than boredom and whimsy, and the only one i can find is a buddhist theory that 'when you eat death, you emit death'. it sounds deep, but i read it in russell brand's book, which kind of cheapens the buddha aspect of it all. either way, i'm going to do it, and then have a meat bacchanalia the following week.

6. i found a song that literally made me weep in hysterical laughter. like genuine brought-to-your-knees, howling-on-the-floor, painful, nearly-peeing laughter. don't ask me why, because it's not even that funny. i lay curled up like a foetus for about five minutes afterwards in a state of bliss i have never reached on most drugs. i still laugh now when i hear it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1hVdpm4j88
sample lyric: 'The man with the lisp/ Sounds so crisp'

when i was bored

'so i thought i had gotten the job, when actually, i hadn't, even though i had completely been given the impression that i had...'
her oil-slick black polished nails are melting and dripping off in globs. it bothers me terribly that they're falling onto the carpet.
'...gave me a ring back four days later. can you believe it? four days. so i told him...'
even though i remember her face in some hazy distant reality as being quite round and buttery, wherever i am now is focusing a lense on her, darkening the shadows around her, spotlighting her. she looks feline, pronounced waxy bones in her face leading to creeping blackness. it's possible that she looks better to me now than she usually does, but i wouldn't expect myself to know.
'...professional opinion, it's appalling. leaving something that long. they're a business for goodness' sakes, how do they expect...'
if i had the presence of mind to be bored, i would be.
'...because i've got another interview lined up you see, it's more me, more what i want to be doing, because i've got to focus on me now...'
clicking fingernails type in the front of my head, and i feel like if i close my eyes i can dampen the sound with wet eyelids. alas, to no prevail, the noise clicks on. supine, i flex on the floor and feel my corpuscules, my musculature writhe and shift ever so fluidly. working how a human body is meant to and all. the angle i look from is the angle of the hunter; crouched to the ground, so much in sync with the prey. if the prey were wearing maraschino lipstick and a post-ironic bob and wouldn't stop fucking talking.
'...time of life, you know?'
no, i don't know actually. i stopped knowing at precisely the same point as i stopped caring, which was quite some time ago.
'... about me. that's what i've decided to do, decisions based on me, on my interests. you only live once and all. it's time for me to really get to...'
velcro is ripping up and down my spine as i curl onto my side, pulling my knees towards my chin and settling into a foetal position. a glass jar next to me makes no indication that it knows what is going on. i'm the same as that glass jar.
'... personal life, because it's not all about fun any more. all of this business with the economy makes me feel like i need to grow, you know?'
if you say that one more time i'll scream. the autumn creeps into my head, and colours my circuitry. synapses glow with maple syrup and fallen leaves; electrical impulses flash like stormy skies and lightning. a glass window into my head would show a park, damp, dappled and golden. pulsing hot embers on a bonfire are relocating from my head to my chest. i feel a residual warmth, and the beating pulse of a fire when i inhale. if only i looked a fifth as magnificent as i felt. warm cherry skins peel themselves from my gooey heart as the vodka i've just been fed sears its way down.
'... happy? i'm pouring it down your stupid neck for you, just like you want because that's all you want isn't it, booze, booze, booze. you're so fucking predictable and boring, how do you live? all you ever do...'
my mind generously disconnects after this, sending me into a reverie that is both soothing and deadening. it's a terrible business, the twenty first century, but it's the business i'm in. i blame the gameshows, the double entendres, the childcare, the posters, the saturated fats, the literature, the elitisim, the politics, the icecaps and the fucking rainforest for the state that i'm in. if the world wasn't such a dreadful place maybe i wouldn't have to be so dreadful in it.







i don't know whose perspective this is written from, i find it easiest just to write esoterically. don't judge me.

i have

decided that i love florence and the machine. not florence herself, or even really the band actually, i just really like the songs. the video for dogs days are over actually makes me very angry, but saying that, what doesn't. i especially love blinding, that is such a good song. the bit about 'no more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden' really makes me shivery.
i can't really think of things to say so i am trying to create a kind of vacuum until i next say something good.
i start uni on the 27th. exciting no? i just did a stock count at work and thought i was going to die. my kitten shat on my boyfriend's floor about five times in a row. i started a game of vice city with my friend jen. i once again shirked going kick-boxing. i clipped my toe nails. voila! news update to the max.
( i am really sorry for the low calibre class of this post. i may or may not be tanked on vodka and tropical juice.)

have just

got my ass handed to me by leeds fest. have a serious cold, a burnt tongue and a head full of happy memories. and snot. i'll be back when i'm alive.

fucking fuck

AARGHHHHHHHHH FUCKING UNIVERSITY ONLINE APPLICATION IS FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE FUCKS SAKES RRAGAHHHHHHHHHH
i might actually be sick, i am that angry

oh my life

i have just returned from the gym, because sometimes i actually go instead of just saying i will, and it was horrible. i went on the treadmill because after hovering near the cross trainer for five minutes shyly pressing buttons like i was trying to ask it on a date, the girl next to me told me it was turned off. i think she thought i was loitering because i fancied her, which i didn't. she wasn't my type at all. so i went on the treadmill until i thought i was going to die. when i left i had a sensationally red face, like terrifyingly red, and i started walking home. then some horrid mean boys laughed at me and asked me what was wrong with my face. i completely did not know what to say though. i just grimaced like a red-faced loon. it seemed unfair that i got abuse for trying to lose weight and be healthy, if anything they should have been saying 'that sheen of sweat on your moustache area and forehead are a sign of hard work and dedication. well done'
but no.
i have downloaded monkey island special edition for the xbox to reward myself for being soooo excellent and going to the gym. so that's all i'll be doing tonight, along with eating a jacket potato and fuming silently about my shameful glowing face. god, why does my scalp have to sweat? there's so much hair that it all gets wet at the roots and makes me look like i don't wash.
i'm going to have a bath now because i smell of gym and sweat, and the smell is quite violent.

absolute

favourite song. it helps that it's raining and i can look out of the window dreamily as it plays. i'm going to dye my hair pink again so i won't look scruffy and rootalicious anymore. you might even get a picture, you lucky lucky people. (if i post one, listen to the song below while you look at it. it will make me seem prettier and like i should be in garden state being an indie hipster like zack thingie from scrubs)

kjhfsd

one of the plethora of things i hate is fashion. just pretty much in its entirety. or at least i hate high fashion, with all the wanky designers and ridiculous price tags. i especially hate people who try and be trendy, because you just know if those weird giant legged aladdin trousers weren't in magazines and worn by celebrities that they'd mock the shit out of people for wearing them. if assless chaps come into fashion they'd wear them and think they were hot shit.
so
STOP WEARING UGG BOOTS
STOP WEARING ALADDIN'S TROUSERS
STOP WEARING PRETENDY ALL SAINTS BOOTS
STOP TUCKING YOUR JEANS IN AT THE ANKLE
STOP WEARING BODY WARMERS
STOP WEARING MILITARY GEAR
STOP WEARING CROPPED JACKETS
STOP WEARING ALL OF THIS SHIT
I BEG FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART, MAKE ME HAPPY AND LEARN TO FUCKING DRESS YOURSELVES

gar pt. 2

there is a kitten biting my left hand as i type this, it is the kitten in the pictures. he is pure evil, but i like him. he's got chutzpah. and obviously that is me holding him (admire my excellent 'clarissa explains it all' jeans), on my bed, next to my picture wall version 2.
check out his crazy little crack eyes in the fourth picture!

the third picture is by an artist who's name i've forgotten. but i like his donkey.

the second picture is of my new tattoo, having been published on ugliesttattoos.com. HAHA. kidding.
or am i?

the first picture you will have seen before on this blog. it is the tits tee by vivienne westwood, screened in 1960 something, and the tee-shirt i want the most in the world ever. i would do anything to own and wear that tee-shirt. i would probably spend the rest of my life only eating bladders just to wear it for a day. maybe two days, let's not exaggerate.

jesus, i was typing there and the devil kitten lunged at my typing hands and made me jump horrible. demon animal
AND AGAIN, JESUS WHAT A FRIGHT

gar

never did i think the day would come that i'd lady-fancy kate nash, but lo and behold, it has. maybe it's because we share a name and i am nothing if not a pitiful narcissist.

i had an awesome day at work. it was less than unbearable, which is a synonym really. i went in and my supervisor wasn't in, so it was me all day. awesome because i get to pick the music (kings of leon actually sucked though, like i hadn't seen that coming) and because i can dance in the stock room sometimes, but not awesome because i am left alone to my own devices. and the devices are rarely productive nor wisely thought out. i spent the whole day mindlessly tidying up and sneaking to the stock room to eat flapjack and drink cherry coke. and hide from customers. a guy phoned up to make an enquiry about an, to use his words, 'adult video'. he asked if i could check if it was in the shop and give me the reference number that was on the hmv website and i was like no it'll be different, you'll have to give me the name. and the name was 'tixie licks'. BLAAGHRHHH VOMIT. that is the name of a CHILDRENS COUGH SYRUP. i don't know if that is a coincedence, a dirty pun, or a dvd where people throw cough syrup on each other and fuck, but my god how i laughed. i had to set the phone down while i laughed and laughed and laughed. i couldn't pick it up again until the tremors had subsided. we didn't even have it in either, i had to disappoint the syrup pervert. this guy had the voice of a maths teacher i swear. and plus, why didn't he just order it off the internet? he wouldn't have had to embarass himself and no-one would know. or, actually, why not just watch it for free on the internet?? he must be a tradionalist and actually want the dvd. surprised he went for a kinky syrup theme, but hey i'm not here to judge. why he rang a games basement about a porn dvd though, is unfathomable. but enough about that business.
i haven't slept properly since i moved into my new flat, the mattress is unbearably awful and uncomfortable. people have said so many times now that i look ill. the purple bags under my eyes, long mousey roots and baby pink faded hair are admittedly not my best look though. i'm so pale that i actually have a royal blue network of veins all down my inner arms and from neck to stomach. i pretty much have a blue webby chest not unlike spiderman. sexy eh? although i have actually lost quite a bit of weight now so at least i'm not fat and pale. i'm slimmer and pale. slightly better. i'm pretty sure the lack of sleep is not helping my brain though, i feel parts of it falling away, like a wet cake.
urrghhhh..
don't worry, i'm not going to do a poem again. that was quite a terrible idea on my part. sorry.

waxing sylvia (sounds wrong)

did a bit of poetry reading/writing



her frailty is her bones,
his kiss is his fist,
his kiss found her cheeks,
the walls heard her moans,
the table saw her falling down,
her eyes they lost her tears,
behind her teeth she kept her words,
and from his mouth came jeers,
her love it took a whole new form,
turned from heart to knife,
and when her heart did find his heart,
his blood it kissed the floor.


super emo but mildly inspired by amy hempel. she does this amazing thing where she never actually says what happens but lets you know through the effects that events have. i tried to do that. it probably didn't work, but heck i'm no poet.

well well well

long time no speak


in the past two weeks, i've:

+ moved out of home
+ moved into a flat with the boyfriend
+ gotten a kitten
+ started working at hmv again

wew. it's a wonder i'm still standing. we've just gotten the internet today so that is why i am being super-good-blog-person and doing a blog.
here's my soundtrack for today (e.g. the albums i put on in hmv while i was working)

1) lou reed - transformer
2) 30 seconds to mars - this is war (it's not very good)
3) best of the smiths (bit of a variation from usual)
4) best of alice in chains (i hate them, it was for the guys i work with)
5) regina spektor - begin to hope


it's hard orchestrating a good soundtrack in the basement because the guys i work with like hard rock, rap and reggae, none of which i like. for every incubus album they put on, i put on a fruity indie cd or something acoustic. we're constantly at ends. i came down from my lunch the other day and someone had put creamfields 2010 on, no joke. i wanted to die. i surrepticiously turned down the volume, effectively fading it out like it was ending, and then just put lou reed back on. i like to think it was sneaky but it quite clearly wasn't.

uyfhjghjv

from the moment i awoke this morning, i was filled with a peculiar and terrible dread. i made myself my morning coffee, toddled into the bathroom to assess the hair situation (terrible) and got dressed. all the while, suffering severe ennui. oh yes. today was the day i was in charge of the games basement in HMV. i got my job back yesterday, after the cold-shoulder brush off at christmas, and i have become a greasy basement dwelling nerd. i went in at nine and left at half five having spent the whole day with only fluorescent lighting, stickers and ugly people of various degrees for company. today was never, ever going to be good. i nearly feel asleep on the metro home from the weight of my responsibilities. i was literally the only person in there all day. it's hardly busy, it's deserted if anything, but the point was that i was in charge. i tasted the heady brew of power and it did not sit well in my belly. as soon as i got in, my legs became unusable and i had to drag myself about my tasks like a baboon. do you know how hard it is to make a paella and a coffee and hold yourself at the same time? lies, you don't.
tomorrow, i have to pack all of my bedroom in order to move out of home on saturday. i have such fear for this. even though it's only three metro stops away from home, it still gives me the fear. wah wah wah, i am a wimp.
confessions of a shopaholics may, surprisingly, be one of the worse movies i've seen. it's just cliche after stereotype after predictable women-love-shopping joke after heart-warming ending. plus the english character has the cold wet eyes of a toad, and even less charisma, which makes me feel like my people are being misrepresented. why didn't they just give him a set of comedy disgusting dentures like austin powers and get it over with? sitting in bed with a huge bottle of water and a shit film is calming me down slightly anyway. my room and things all being in a jumble stressed me out. being stressed may be my most honed and expansive ability. i can become stressed about the smallest thing in less than 0.3 seconds. i'm too tired to think of anything else to say, i'm going to go to bed byeeee

the only thing

better than being in a room that feels like a reptile house with heat lamps is having hayfever. the use of one nostril to breathe in stuffy air is putting a cherry on my night. usually when this happens i make my famous concoction of three packets of lemsip and a dollop of night nurse mixed to a viscous consistency in a shot glass and downed in one. the combination of decongestants and what i can only assume is a chemical cousin of LSD really make me stop caring about whether i can breathe or not and send me to sleep for seventeen hours. but i'm at my boyfriend's house and i have none of the above so i'm scuppered. not being able to breathe out of one side of my nose has always made me irrationally angry, and i don't see that changing in the forseeable future. it's too hot to sleep, which isn't something i should be able to say, living in england and all. it's not something i particularly want to be able to say, as i flourish in mild and rainy conditions. like a fern.
what i am saying is that, if i am in my reptile house room, it doesn't make me a reptile that likes the reptile house, it makes me a mouse trapped in the reptile house waiting to cook to death.
i don't care if that doesn't make sense because i'm TOO FUCKING HOT

ohhhhhhhhhh

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN


things that annoy me vol. 98749874

+ sex and the city. it's so mind-numbingly boring. being a member of its target audience, i have to say, target MISSED. do i really want to watch pretendy women wearing ridiculous clothes, screwing half their hometown and talking about it over ridiculous drinks? no! sex and the city, a tale of 'female empowerment and sexual liberation' (snigger) is written by a man. how can that be right? the main one, the one that looks like a demon horse, is apparently always doing articles about sex in new york, but it's actually by a man. really lends a real natural feel to it i think. sex and the city can gargle cat piss because it's atrocious. it's like grown-up twilight.

+ really heavy geordie accents. i've lived in newcastle for about 98% of my life and i can't make heads or arses of them. i constantly embarass myself with the pub regulars where i work by looking at them like i'm deaf and insane while they say the same thing over and over. i go red (i can feel it on the tips of my ears) and say something awkward and go about getting them the wrong drink. i loathe this. it only sounds horribly upper-middle class of me because it is. i'm just being a tool.

+ justin bieber. wow i really have hit some cultural hotspots recently eh? justin beiber, twilight, sex and the city... it's obviously easy to say you hate all of these things, but sometimes it just feels good to affirm it. like a power chant or something. well i do hate justin bieber. he's like a tiny evil brunette ellen degeneres and i don't like his stupid music. 'and i was like baby, baby, baby oooohh, i was like baby, baby, baby nooooo' what is that. no.

+ the fact that i never use this blog for writing the way i mean to, because i started it to try and do fiction but i haven't done it since last year. i have a good idea brewing though, you'll see. it's a doozy too, so watch this space! not this one exactly, obviously, what are you, daft?

+ metro/ bus fares. they are exorbitantly high. i spend about £3.5o every time i want to get somewhere, and frankly, i'm not quite ready to start cycling everywhere. it gives me the mad red face and i get this awful sweaty bit on my back.. but i digress. either way, bus fares need to go down. i'm sure petrol prices are awful and everything, but jeez.

+ waterstones now quite literally has a ... wait for it..




are you ready? i don't think you are...


DARK ROMANCE section.


i know.
what the everloving hell is that supposed to mean? it should be called the cashcow section.

+ people who criticise jemina pearl's solo album for being pop. it really annoys me that when an artist releases an album it isn't seen as an experiment, a single album any more. it becomes their whole image and everyone assumes that's who they are. jemina pearl can't release an experimental fun album after having been in a band since she was 15? that must have been pretty intense and i say that break it up is a great record, it's catchy, clever and FUN. i know music snobbery has no room for fun because fun isn't hip or cool, but i don't see why jemina pearl has to have her whole image re-evaluated just because she released a different type of album than she has done before. so she's done a poppy record and that means she can't ever do anything else ever again. fuck that. i say, if thurston moore and iggy pop will touch it, it's really more than good enough for me. i also say, for people who are supposed to be open-minded, critics just don't have a clue sometimes.

+ stupid pretentious people who wear pretendy glasses. you know, plastic frames with plastic lenses? at least try and stare into the sun for a few hours to damage your eyes enough so that you need the huge nana frames. commit a bit harder to being hipsters.

+ knowing that i need to be up early, and thus not being able to sleep because i know i'll be up early. thus spending three hours playing games until the early morning, getting four hours sleep and then complaining all day that i'm tired. i was pretty sure that if i kept doing it, nature would kick in some kind of biological imperative to make me tired earlier, but evidently not.

+ the huge amount of websites there are. i think there's too many.

+ what does NOT annoy me however is this video: http://vimeo.com/11712103
because sloths are adorable and cannot annoy me. even when they chew with their mouths open, and usually that makes me queasy. no, i just stare into the gaping maw of gooey half-chewed potato, and i swoon.

+ not eating bread or pasta. my two favourite foods.

+ speaking of food, i'm hungry.

i feel slightly bad about complaining so much, but henry rollins said 'nothing brings people together more than a mutual hatred' so i like to think i'm bringing people closer together.

things that don't annoy me vol. 2

+ looking at the end of my bed and having a shelf and a dresser there covered in my books, cd's and assorted things. it just cheers me up.

+ the fact that i don't have work tomorrow. yessssss.

+ the fact that i am actually going to start writing again soon. yippee!

+ damien rice. I SAID IT, I LIKE DAMIEN RICE. know who else i like? louis theroux. he's both informative and funny. and i like con air. feeling quite uplifted now. i might go and have some muesli, but i probably won't, because it's in the kitchen, and i am not. dilemma.

I AM BORED

i hate twilight. i know this is unprecedented and obviously a suprise since i never discuss my opinions on twilight (fnar) but i feel like getting it off my chest a bit.

the four book series has reached critical acclaim with a majority audience of females aged born to dead. most non-fans of the books approach fans with a tentative fear and loathing. rarely before has a fantasy novel created such a divisive social context; stephenie meyer has unwittingly unleashed upon us an interesting dichotomy: the fan versus the anti-fan. speaking personally as an anti-fan, it is easy to call my views biased, because they are. of course they are. remaining objective when it comes to literature is nay impossible, and if i am honest, i don't like fantasy or romance novels. a combination of the two makes my brain feel like a bag of wet mice. however i realised that overall, twilight's themes are what are the most subliminally threatening. the plot arrives nearly four hundred pages in like a drunk friend at a party, the peculiar and not partically correct use of adjectives ('his scintillating arms' being one of them), the lack of explanation for phenomena in the book due to meyer's inability to be either well-versed in scientific theory (she's a mormon, duh) or write as an omniscient guide explaining things the characters themselves may not necessarily know if even just for explanation's sake. no, the thing that frightens me most about twilight is the underlying theme of abuse/dominance in the romantic relationship between bella and edward. barf.
- at this point, i would like to disclaim: i have read twilight from front to back. the first book anyway. my opinions are valid -
when bella and edward first meet, he is practically unable to mask his contempt for her. she however immediately gets the swoon of all swoons for him. she wants a man who finds her repulsive? oh yeah. that's not indicative of serious self-loathing or lack of self-worth at all. then, after something like a few days, edward realises that, silly him! he was just confusing deep-seated hatred with all-consuming love again! they get together, bler bler bler, many disgusting descriptive paragraphs ensue, and bella is eventually pretty much determined to be a vampire. worrying enough as it is that bella seems to withdraw from her friends and mute herself to follow edward blindly and keep his secret, she also wants him to literally take away her humanity (i very nearly swore there, but for the integrity of my point to remain, i shan't.) isn't that a dangerous idea? girls my age, older, and younger all seem to think it's a love story. it's not. it's a passive aggressive nigh-terrifying encounter with obsessive love. edward's behaviour includes watching bella sleep, stalking her and controlling who she can talk to. in real life, that kind of behaviour is sex offender material, not boyfriend material. not only that, but he berates her for physically desiring him. scary abstinence punishment much? bella follows him like an idiot while he occasionally casts her a backwards glance to make sure she's still his property and she adores him. teaching young girls that twilight has a happy ending is teaching them that sacrificing your happiness and control over your own life in order to please an abusive lover. it's dangerous! 'As I had just that once before, I smelled his cool breath in my face. Sweet, delicious, the scent made my mouth water' does that sound like something a normal person should be saying? hell nah.
stephenie meyer herself has admitted that twilight is one of her fantasies. not surprising at all, seeing that bella has a photo-fit description that matches meyer to a t. meyer's mormonism is a common topic, seeing as mormonism is a very male-dominated religion in which polygamy is acceptable. it seems that the lack of female empowerment in mormonism has trickled through the twilight series. bella's an idiot, if i'm quite frank. when her boyfriend leaves her, she throws herself off a cliff to try and make him love her again. that's really not the kind of thing that should be classed as ok.
by the way, even if edward was the lovesick one and bella was the distant one, i would have the same opinion. relationships should not have a leader and a follower. it doesn't matter which gender follows which role, it's equally as unhealthy. i'm not being super-feminist and saying WOMEN SHOULDN'T FOLLOW MEN, i'm saying that relationships like the one in this book are dangerous and very bad for people.
bella is an odd character, situated half-way between the perfect girl next door type, and a mystical fairy or something. i don't know, i didn't read it too closely sometimes. she's always on about how clumsy she is, because it's her one foible. and no-one in the book is allowed to be perfect, an adonis, a god, jesus incarnate in sparkly skin himself other than edward cullen. it's pretty obvious in the writing that lots of people want bella. in the first book alone, there's five boys who actively adore her. but noooo, she only wants what's bad for her. does that sound like a repressed mormon girl, or does that sound like a repressed mormon girl. edward himself is pretty dumb. he contradicts himself constantly, not to mention is a total creeper because he's about a century older than bella. he keeps telling her to stay away from him, and then sneaking in her room and watching her sleep. er, what? evidently they're made for each other because they're both stupid as planks. it also irritates me that edward goes on multiple times about how much he wants to chow down on bella's blood and she doesn't find this remotely creepy. he acts like she's wearing bacon perfume or something and goes I WANT TO EAT YOU and she swoons. evidently a deficiency of self-preservation is in this season.
can't be bothered to make rational arguments. statistics time!
number of times bella remarks on edward's beauty: 165
average amount of pages between uses of the word 'chagrin': 29.3
number of times bella comments on the beauty of edward's breath: 4
number of creepy werewolves who fall in love with newborn babies: 1
number of times bella references her clumsiness: 22
number of times bella says she isn't good enough for edward: 6
number of times edward tells bella she's unnatural: 5
number of times bella says 'holy crow!': 2
number of pages in book: 498
number of pages in which bella is a doofus: 498



i'm really tired now, so i'll leave you with this one gem:
'His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course he didn't sleep. A perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal'
at the risk of sounding childish... PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA. i rest my case.

this guy

makes me jealous, i can't even apply eyeliner properly and here he is being a man and doing it insanely perfectly.

http://vimeo.com/11705767

super-sick stuff

(the two pictures of the wall and the harry potter poster are in my room, which i love.)

your life is not complete

without the cupcake cannon

jhgs

happy day, tidied the house so am sitting in lovely clean living room that i actually swept the floor of.

BEST FIZZY POP

+ cherry 7 up is very delicious but too fizzy ( i am drinking it right now)
+ diet coke, a trusted choice but rather full
+ irn bru makes me jittery with sugar
+ vimto, the daddy of all fizzy pop
+ lilt, vintage but nice

i love fizzy pop with an absolute undying passion, when i started my diet it's the only thing i flat-out refused to give up drinking, apart from coffee. a can of pop is the best thing in the world.


here is a picture from last night. we sat in the park from about 4 til midnight getting continually more and more wrecked. i myself was terrible. came home and threw up loudly and swore inbetween heaves. e.g. hurrrghhhhhFUCKhurrghhhhhh. my boyfriend laughed, because i totally deserved to be laughed at, plus he'd done the same thing a few nights ago so we were in the same boat. altogether, it was a very fun evening. i think i'm going to go and reminisce about the funs and eat chicken noodles.

angry cat

is angry

mmmm

i have new bed covers. they are so nice and soft and warm, and they are facilitating my lazy day because i'm in bed at one in the afternoon listening to happy tunes. i should probably get a cup of coffee to complete the loveliness but joe is passed out on the living room floor with a bucket of sick next to him and i don't want to step on him. he might vom on me. ahhhhhh i love being not hungover when other people are.

it's that time again

things that annoy me vol. 278722

+ people who have to mention things. they can't just say they're sitting around listening to music, they have to mention which music and you can completely tell they think they're awesome. or they've just watched tv, and they have to mention that it's some hipster indie tv show. as if anybody has actually asked them. they are just looking for recognition and cool points. sick. whatever, i can't stop people doing it, but i can request that when you're listening to the smiths and cutting yourself for attention try not to post any pictures on the internet while you're doing it. -note- i fully realise that i mention bands i like now though, so i guess i'm just as much of a tosser as everyone else.

+ when people think i am bitter and cynical for comical effect, or to have an image. i don't. i am not always angry, sometimes i'm pretty nice. i just resent people being very concerned with how they come across to other people. you can always tell when people are acting like they're on fucking tv when they're talking to you. or telling you stupid show-offy things. i like people who are largely unfussed by what they look like, or how they're coming across, it's nice.

+ people using books to be cool is especially awful. books are sacred and should never, ever be used for evil. referencing books to be cool is tantamount to child murder. i'm sorry. books aren't cool. they just aren't. carrying around a vintage copy of oscar wilde automatically lets me know that you're not actually a reader, you're wrongly convinced that reading is cool. a girl in my sixth form used to try and talk to me about old books because she said i was 'one of the only people who really liked english literature'. to which i said WOAH WOAH WOAH do not lump me in your elitist club ( and subsequently made her cry, my bad). i read books yes, but for fun, not to get cool points. that is not right and there should be a RSPCA equivalent to fight against it. she didn't understand. quoting passages of the great gatsby is nice, if you mean it, but i must re-iterate... if you actually like to read. i mean, i like all sorts of books, not just vaguely respectable ones. i like trashy awful books you get free with sunday papers, i like books written for dramatic teenage girls and horny teenage boys, but i just like to read. if i'm in the bath i will just read bottles for something to do. it's a nice way to occupy yourself, and i can't occupy myself very well, so reading is perfect for me because it's immersive and satisfying.

+ rah girls hair. rah girls are obviously an english thing, and i'm not even sure which bits of england they're indigenous to. but rah girls are terribly english girls who go to university in ugg boots, pyjama bottoms, sports gilets and backcombed chinese widow buns falling off their heads. the way they talk sounds like RAH RAH RAH RAH, explaining the name. (for further reference http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=rah) but either way, of all the things i hate about them (there are many) their hair is near the top of the list. you can tell it's long, well-conditioned, regularly cut and highlighted perfect celebrity type hair, so why do they insist on combing it backwards until it's ginormous and tangly, and then turning it into huge birds nests on their heads? i think they think it gives them an air of 'i don't give a fuck' and makes them rock chicks or whatever, but it doesn't. it's a flashing beacon to anyone who isn't a rah that they are idiots.

+ the fact that everything has a sequel. can't some films be allowed to go to the grave having only been a singular release? ghostbusters 3 for fucks sakes. what is that.

+ the human centipede. URRGH URGH URGH. ever since i heard about that, i have genuinely not felt right. i've had nightmares, it pops into my head randomly and then i tear up and have to stare at the wall, it stops me eating malt loaf. that's how associative my memory is, i can't eat malt load anymore because of that film. it's absolutely rank, and horror films don't usually gross me out, but literally this even puts me off food, and nothing puts me off food. i once ate custard while someone vomited next to me with absolutely no qualms. so well done in a way, since i haven't even seen the fucker and it's ruined my appetite.

+ how quickly hair dye fades. half my hair is still pink, and the roots are kid of pale ginger-pink, it looks weird! not that it bothers me enough to do anything about it, i just occasionally catch sight of myself in a mirror and think 'hm'.

+ the current weird weather in newcastle. it's kind of like the frequent stormy periods in my parents house; you don't know what's happening, why, or when it's going to can it. suddenly boiling hot, then cloudy, then raining? make your mind up sky, because i can't do it for you.

+ people like me who complain a lot. not in a self-loathing way, i just assume it's really boring for everyone else.




things i like vol. 1

+ zero punctuation. it's hilarious.

+ food in bed. it's delicious. and warm.

+ my jumper

+ posting cruel questions on peoples formsprings. serves them right for having formspring, what a retarded idea. i had one for like a week, thinking this'll be fun! then i realised how insanely vain it made me, and i felt like a douche and deleted it. i see the appeal admittedly, but i also have self-esteem. you can see the dilemma.

+ strawberry yoghurt in the bath. not in the bath itself, me eating strawberry yoghurt when i'm in the bath. mmmm.

+ jemina pearl. you beaut.




this has been very satisfying. strawberry yoghurt in the bath time!

i wish

people (more specifically, ladies) would stop saying that all men are dickheads because, ho ho ho, they have DICKS and HEADS, so they must be DICKHEADS. see the clever basis of the argument eh? well it's quite honestly shit, because that's like calling me a livertwat because i have a liver and... so on, so forth. i'm not big into sexism, be it against chicks or dudes. some guys are nice, some girls are nice, it doesn't make odds what gender someone is when they're nice. and likewise, if one guy or girl is an arsehole, it doesn't automatically mean that all women or all men are this that or the other. sexism is for social retards, and it boils my piss (to use a charming expression). why can't people just get along? seems daft that in this modern day and age people won't stop saying that 'all men are bastards' and making 'women in the kitchen' jokes. it's embarassing! when the aliens invade, i know that i for one will be red-faced and scuffing my shoes along the floor when they tell us off, ray-gun us and enslave us for all being such wankers.

blargh

today i have woken up, and pretty much decided from the offset that it is going to be an awful day. call me crazy, but i swear, i get a twisty stomach in the morning and i know some kind of shit is going to go down. and today, i have the twisty stomach. maybe it's the tea (i'm slightly lactose intolerant) or maybe it's my gut feeling.
i phoned my boyfriend this morning, apparently to his dismay. he sounded a bit asleep and annoyed, so now i feel like a tit. i always get the feeling i annoy him or something, which probably isn't good, considering i've been with him for like nearly three years. i love the kid, love him to death, he's my best friend and we've stuck together for a long time considering our ages. but i swear sometimes he must get really annoyed at me or something. i don't blame him, i'm fairly intense. but hey, we alt types often are. i'm one of those terrible people who hates it when people don't answer their phones/ text you back quickly. so i keep texting/ ringing. i should probably stop doing that. i hate it though, it enrages me. still, what actually doesn't? that'd be a very short list. i should make some kind of pledge to be a much better person. i'd much much rather play on harry potter on the ps2 though. ok, short one.

+ be better at getting a job
+ keep going with diet/ exercise
+ probably write more
+ stop forgetting to take vitamin supplements
+ be a less annoying person
+ stop doing the changing hair colour all the time thing

i dyed my hair pink yesterday, i don't know how i feel about it yet though. it's very bright, so i'm slightly worried that i've gone for that fourteen year old nobody-understands-me look. the last time i had pink hair was two years ago, and my hair's in seriously better condition though so at least it doesn't look like candyfloss this time. (to be honest, i think it looks ace, i just honestly worry what people think about me. everyone says they don't, but really we all know that's a dirty stinking lie)
i need to shake this funky mood. how do i do it? byop or pixies on, LOUD; gym; fruit smoothie of some description (from my dad's juicer; have you been paying attention?); cycle into town; see if boyfriend wants to hang out; fix face; stroke cat; have some kind of lunch; play on playstation
obviously these are not in chronological order, but i'll probably do most of them. maybe. at the very least i'll play on the playstation.

ghdjhgsd

merry sunday!

ooh

new cocorosie


oh beautiful swimmie, how i wish i could have you. i slightly pray for a rich old man to take pity upon me and send me an anonymous gift, which ideally would be this swimmie. any nice blokes feel like it? or ladies, i'm not prejudiced.
ohhhhh how i wish i had a proper life like people i know. today i went to the jobcentre and met a nice man called stuart who gave me job applications, and then i went home. that's been it! i might cry. i long and pine for the days when my life was mostly ruled by GCSE's and my hobbies were getting very drunk on smirnoff ice and back-combing my hair. now my hair lies flat(ish), and i drink only for pleasure. well, i still drink to get hammered but i generally don't drink smirnoff ice any more. when i do occasionally drink, i drink vodka, which is apparently very calorific. when i was told this, i was both on a diet and obscenely drunk, so i pretty much got angry.
i hate online shopping, it will be the death of me.

kiuh

oh my god mickey rourke, when did you get so scary!
currently reading trashy gossip sites instead of doing anything useful. also uploading about four hundred million albums. perez hilton seriously seriously looks like jim carrey when he played the grinch. it's unnerving. and also, the two most popular names for babies in the usa are isabella and jacob. as in, the characters from twilight. isn't that rank? twilight makes me not exactly angry, because i don't care enough, but it definitely gives me slight nausea and repulsed feelings.
wow, a film is being made of jack kerouac's 'on the road'. what next, 'the catcher in the rye'? why not just completely screw up a modern classic for the sake of revenue eh? is nothing sacred? can't a book just be a book any more? films usually are shit when they're adapted from books. even harry potter, and harry potter is so awesome to read. the film has kristen stewart in it for christs sakes! she will not stop until she ruins everything! first she sullies joan jett's good name, and now this. i'm fully taking it personally. going to start sending her open tins of mackerel in the post starting tomorrow.
arhhhhh now i have rage.

hello hello

man alive, why am i awake? it's like 3 in the morning, and here i am, half-watching school of rock and half-writing this.
i have had a nice day. my friends tried to take me to the aquarium, but the queues were too big. that really sucked because i'd been reading about how there's a monkey house out the back, and i was thinking, wow, what if at 5 or something they put the monkeys in the shark tank and make them fight for food or something, so i was really excited to see if i was just dreaming. i'll probably never know. instead we drove around listening to terrible going out type tunes (the only cds in the car are compilations of things like nine inch nails, lady gaga, and old cheesy pop hits from the 90's) and i spent the day having bon jovi hair because both of my friends smoke, so they had the windows down and i always have to sit in the back, presumably because i'm the youngest and also always forget to shout shotgun, so i was all freezing with nothing but a shitty leather jacket and teeshirt on and my hair was whipping me in the face. it sounds shit, but i had a pretty good time. we went back to theirs afterwards and watched animals do the funniest things and britains got talent. animals really do, in summary, do the funniest things. i went to the pub to meet with my boyfriend and his bezzie mate and other people (who were majorly majorly wired, and not on sugar) so we just chilled from there on in, but at boyfriends bezzie mates house, because the wired people were annoying.
there is a complete summary of my day, if you were interested. sucks for you if you weren't, because you were probably reading this and being like, man i hope this gets exciting soon because this is just some account of someones day. but no. you think it sucks to read it? this is my life! i live this shit motherfuckers! haha.

here is an account of my life writing-wise. i will try and explain the complex and retarded system i have.
i have two sketchbooks. one is black vinyl covered, and one is a blue papier mache pink pig notepad. in both, i make word webs of words i like the sound of, or words i associate with a feeling, or even a colour. i also make lists of small phrases i like, or descriptives i haven't found a way to use yet. for instance, i wrote a long list the other day of good descriptives for the way someone might smell. around this, i doodled a line from a johnny cash song i like, which is 'now here comes a creature for to save my soul' because i think it's really pretty and it helps me think of things i'd like to write about. i draw inspiration from feeling, and nuance, and themes. i don't know what draws me to certain elements of writing, but the way i write is slow, very intense, and fairly unproductive. i'm not prolific. i'll go for months without being creative at all (as this blog attests) and then suddenly BLAM i'll just have this flash of imagination, usually at stupid o clock in the morning, and i'll write and write until my brain feels empty. it's a system i've used for years, but i think it needs fixing because i just don't make enough effort as it is. hopefully when i start university something in my brain will kickstart and i'll instantly be awesome, but somehow my track record with motivation leads me to think that i am lying to myself.

well done for reading all that though, if you did. if you didn't, then what are you even doing. what are you doing here if you aren't reading? what are you, a creeper? get a life creeper!