shewho: (conchords)
Criminy, I feel so apathetic at the moment. Let's see if I can be bothered typing and finishing this. I expect it will be brief. And full of gloom. Is this what the run up to 30 is like?

Saturday )

***

sunday )

***

Monday )

***

Tuesday )

***

Wednesday )

***

Thursday )

***

The End.

***


Shows Seen = 24.

Top Five (in no particular order):

  • Tim Minchin
  • Alex Horne
  • David O'Doherty (Kids show)
  • Elizabeth and Raleigh
  • Honourable Men of Art. Or perhaps Ms Emin. Yes. The actual art.
  • shewho: (conchords)
    Criminy, I feel so apathetic at the moment. Let's see if I can be bothered typing and finishing this. I expect it will be brief. And full of gloom. Is this what the run up to 30 is like?

    Saturday )

    ***

    sunday )

    ***

    Monday )

    ***

    Tuesday )

    ***

    Wednesday )

    ***

    Thursday )

    ***

    The End.

    ***


    Shows Seen = 24.

    Top Five (in no particular order):

  • Tim Minchin
  • Alex Horne
  • David O'Doherty (Kids show)
  • Elizabeth and Raleigh
  • Honourable Men of Art. Or perhaps Ms Emin. Yes. The actual art.
  • shewho: (summer)
    i suppose the other side of the going-out-too much dilemma, is that you get to do lots of excellent things and see lots of excellent people.

    there has been an awful lot of eating and drinking in the world of [livejournal.com profile] shewho over the past few days.

    thursday was where it all began, with a quadruple booking. oh noes! decisions to be made! in the end i popped along to the hideaway for the lovely [livejournal.com profile] my_name_is_anna's birthday celebrations. drank some wine. chatted with some folk. agreed to attempt to play rubbish trumpet on a record, and swap trumpet tuition for drum tuition. felt very productive! marvellous.

    journeyed on to the faltering fullback up in ewok village, to say hello to a temporarily southern [livejournal.com profile] billywhizz and people. excellent to see you nick, and wheee, surprise al and davina too, bonus!

    very impressively stuck to my plan of only 4 glasses of wine all evening. 10 / 10.

    ***

    friday was the usual quiet day at work. i had a lunch date with a colleague at the capital kebab shop. don't judge me, there's more. whilst waiting (AGES damn you m!) for him to meet me outside i befriended a middle aged parisian, who's friend was also delayed, and who repeatedly tried to take me out for posher lunch and / or drinks. bless.

    but OH MY GOD. the capital kebab shop (on the cut, se1) does the most amazing mixed grill EVER. at least 6 types of meat, i think. chips (or rice). salad. pitta. you never need eat again! very tasty. very unhealthy. a treat for rare occasions. i failed to finish mine. i'm actually hungry just thinking about it. mmmmm.

    it may have been a foolish day to eat out for lunch, because that evening found me back at the fullback for a tasty gin, before heading to petek to celebrate [livejournal.com profile] atommickbrane's birthday. more delicious food! i couldn't actually face any more meat, so plumped for a king prawn, fish and melon dish. also DELICIOUS. petek is bargainous and tasty, and they give you free booze and sweets if it's someone's birthday. lovely little place. i see what the fuss is about!

    OBVIOUSLY we returned to the fullback for more drinking, finding extra people still saving the table. OBVIOUSLY the coolest thing to do is draw top rock stars on each other's bodies in marker pen. you all need to see the picture of the kiss ARM-y. you really do. they OBVIOUSLY kept singing songs throughout the evening, leading to curious looks from another table. which OBVIOUSLY led to me going over to explain / demonstrate.

    "you're quite eccentric, aren't you?" said the curious chap. no dear, drunk.

    "give us a kiss greg? what does that mean?" asked blinking TIM KEY pointing at my other arm. ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..... oh dear.

    (sod it, let's get into edinburgh practice....)
    excellent drawings on arm = many.
    comedians drunkenly annoyed = 2.
    (aforementioned key and basden. oh dear. at least i didn't say anything to superhans, right?)

    tried to get home. honestly, i did.

    woke up somewhere in edmonton. AGAIN.

    started talking to random handsome young wasted chap at bus stop. continued talking all the way to stamford hill. bus saved possible scary incidents. i shouldn't be allowed drink.

    snuck into d's expecting him to be out all night so i wouldn't look like a nightbus LOSER who couldn't get home if she tried. FAIL, he was there. whoops.

    ***

    saturday dawned too early for my poor hungover head. whinged a bit. ordered pizza. got home, in time to set off to coventry for the big NOAH wrestling event at the skydome.

    got there early enough to meet up with [livejournal.com profile] firemasque and [livejournal.com profile] darkship in the old windmill, and sample their rather peculiar lamb / mint and MAYONNAISE baguettes. ace to see j&k, obv.

    the event itself was a little bit disappointing for me. none of the one-on-one matches grabbed my attention. tag-teams where better. much better. in fact, the highlight was the bumblebee team (ok, i can't remember their names but they were dressed in black and yellow) who where amazingly good. high flying stuff that makes me grin. plus extra hitting hard for bonus marks. then there was yone, who can do whatever he wants with that fantastic afro, hell yeah! and the main event, featuring misawa and kobashi (look, some names i know!) featured the most supreme chopping action i've seen in a long while.

    my favourite bits of the day, mind, were seeing everyone's faces as dave morales (not that one) came into the ring, justifying my earlier comment that he was "the ugliest person in the WORLD". and trying to scam beer of the noisy gay chap behind me, and what i assume to be his boyfriend, only to be introduced to alex shane who was sitting behind them. i appear to have confessed to have followed the fwa and ipw, and he was genuinely touched, aw, bless.

    it was also excellent to see [livejournal.com profile] kathbad, secret wrestling fan! though too brief. boo. better organising net time? (also, check out my 'wrestling' tag for more lycra shennanigans.)

    ***

    sunday i cracked out my trumpet for a bit and attempted the marseilles. i'm not as rusty as i thought! my poor baby trumpet is though. and i realised i have NEVER named it. i think it needs a name.

    WHAT SHALL I CALL MY TRUMPET, people?

    anyway, sunday was lovely. absolutely lovely. you all know that. sunny with a gorgeous breeze. we went exploring the local area. finally.

    met up with megan down by the anchor and hope on the river side. what an excellent, tiny, old man's pub. anywhere that has one plate of pickled onions, and one plate of cheese and crackers out as bar snacks wins with me!

    we all then wandered along the side of the river to markfield park and victorian mayhem, to hang out in the sun with a bunch of chums, drink cider and sangria, and soak up the atmosphere and dub. so relaxing, so good to have local festival things going on!

    the museum there is actually really interesting too. declan and i got collared by a chap who obviously runs his life around the museum and pump engine. i love old guys in tiny museums like that. he told us it's history, how it works, all sorts. actually interesting! and they've got funding to get it up and working again. i'd love to see that.

    as hunger took hold, we hit the river path again, and megan took us, along with chris and ally to the ferry boat inn. i've lived in e17 for YEARS and failed to go there. not so any more! lovely beer garden, pretty pub, tasty, tasty filling food and more condiments than even i need. somehow, after drinks and pudding and losing repeatedly at uno it was closing time. whoops!

    home, then OMG doctor who before falling into a hugely contented sleep.

    ***

    i'd like more days like yesterday, please.

    ***

    monday: booking tickets for restaurants is the new booking tickets for popular gigs. criminy!
    shewho: (summer)
    i suppose the other side of the going-out-too much dilemma, is that you get to do lots of excellent things and see lots of excellent people.

    there has been an awful lot of eating and drinking in the world of [livejournal.com profile] shewho over the past few days.

    thursday was where it all began, with a quadruple booking. oh noes! decisions to be made! in the end i popped along to the hideaway for the lovely [livejournal.com profile] my_name_is_anna's birthday celebrations. drank some wine. chatted with some folk. agreed to attempt to play rubbish trumpet on a record, and swap trumpet tuition for drum tuition. felt very productive! marvellous.

    journeyed on to the faltering fullback up in ewok village, to say hello to a temporarily southern [livejournal.com profile] billywhizz and people. excellent to see you nick, and wheee, surprise al and davina too, bonus!

    very impressively stuck to my plan of only 4 glasses of wine all evening. 10 / 10.

    ***

    friday was the usual quiet day at work. i had a lunch date with a colleague at the capital kebab shop. don't judge me, there's more. whilst waiting (AGES damn you m!) for him to meet me outside i befriended a middle aged parisian, who's friend was also delayed, and who repeatedly tried to take me out for posher lunch and / or drinks. bless.

    but OH MY GOD. the capital kebab shop (on the cut, se1) does the most amazing mixed grill EVER. at least 6 types of meat, i think. chips (or rice). salad. pitta. you never need eat again! very tasty. very unhealthy. a treat for rare occasions. i failed to finish mine. i'm actually hungry just thinking about it. mmmmm.

    it may have been a foolish day to eat out for lunch, because that evening found me back at the fullback for a tasty gin, before heading to petek to celebrate [livejournal.com profile] atommickbrane's birthday. more delicious food! i couldn't actually face any more meat, so plumped for a king prawn, fish and melon dish. also DELICIOUS. petek is bargainous and tasty, and they give you free booze and sweets if it's someone's birthday. lovely little place. i see what the fuss is about!

    OBVIOUSLY we returned to the fullback for more drinking, finding extra people still saving the table. OBVIOUSLY the coolest thing to do is draw top rock stars on each other's bodies in marker pen. you all need to see the picture of the kiss ARM-y. you really do. they OBVIOUSLY kept singing songs throughout the evening, leading to curious looks from another table. which OBVIOUSLY led to me going over to explain / demonstrate.

    "you're quite eccentric, aren't you?" said the curious chap. no dear, drunk.

    "give us a kiss greg? what does that mean?" asked blinking TIM KEY pointing at my other arm. ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..... oh dear.

    (sod it, let's get into edinburgh practice....)
    excellent drawings on arm = many.
    comedians drunkenly annoyed = 2.
    (aforementioned key and basden. oh dear. at least i didn't say anything to superhans, right?)

    tried to get home. honestly, i did.

    woke up somewhere in edmonton. AGAIN.

    started talking to random handsome young wasted chap at bus stop. continued talking all the way to stamford hill. bus saved possible scary incidents. i shouldn't be allowed drink.

    snuck into d's expecting him to be out all night so i wouldn't look like a nightbus LOSER who couldn't get home if she tried. FAIL, he was there. whoops.

    ***

    saturday dawned too early for my poor hungover head. whinged a bit. ordered pizza. got home, in time to set off to coventry for the big NOAH wrestling event at the skydome.

    got there early enough to meet up with [livejournal.com profile] firemasque and [livejournal.com profile] darkship in the old windmill, and sample their rather peculiar lamb / mint and MAYONNAISE baguettes. ace to see j&k, obv.

    the event itself was a little bit disappointing for me. none of the one-on-one matches grabbed my attention. tag-teams where better. much better. in fact, the highlight was the bumblebee team (ok, i can't remember their names but they were dressed in black and yellow) who where amazingly good. high flying stuff that makes me grin. plus extra hitting hard for bonus marks. then there was yone, who can do whatever he wants with that fantastic afro, hell yeah! and the main event, featuring misawa and kobashi (look, some names i know!) featured the most supreme chopping action i've seen in a long while.

    my favourite bits of the day, mind, were seeing everyone's faces as dave morales (not that one) came into the ring, justifying my earlier comment that he was "the ugliest person in the WORLD". and trying to scam beer of the noisy gay chap behind me, and what i assume to be his boyfriend, only to be introduced to alex shane who was sitting behind them. i appear to have confessed to have followed the fwa and ipw, and he was genuinely touched, aw, bless.

    it was also excellent to see [livejournal.com profile] kathbad, secret wrestling fan! though too brief. boo. better organising net time? (also, check out my 'wrestling' tag for more lycra shennanigans.)

    ***

    sunday i cracked out my trumpet for a bit and attempted the marseilles. i'm not as rusty as i thought! my poor baby trumpet is though. and i realised i have NEVER named it. i think it needs a name.

    WHAT SHALL I CALL MY TRUMPET, people?

    anyway, sunday was lovely. absolutely lovely. you all know that. sunny with a gorgeous breeze. we went exploring the local area. finally.

    met up with megan down by the anchor and hope on the river side. what an excellent, tiny, old man's pub. anywhere that has one plate of pickled onions, and one plate of cheese and crackers out as bar snacks wins with me!

    we all then wandered along the side of the river to markfield park and victorian mayhem, to hang out in the sun with a bunch of chums, drink cider and sangria, and soak up the atmosphere and dub. so relaxing, so good to have local festival things going on!

    the museum there is actually really interesting too. declan and i got collared by a chap who obviously runs his life around the museum and pump engine. i love old guys in tiny museums like that. he told us it's history, how it works, all sorts. actually interesting! and they've got funding to get it up and working again. i'd love to see that.

    as hunger took hold, we hit the river path again, and megan took us, along with chris and ally to the ferry boat inn. i've lived in e17 for YEARS and failed to go there. not so any more! lovely beer garden, pretty pub, tasty, tasty filling food and more condiments than even i need. somehow, after drinks and pudding and losing repeatedly at uno it was closing time. whoops!

    home, then OMG doctor who before falling into a hugely contented sleep.

    ***

    i'd like more days like yesterday, please.

    ***

    monday: booking tickets for restaurants is the new booking tickets for popular gigs. criminy!
    shewho: (ginbooze)
    Monday morning, how I hate thee. I would count the ways, but that’d only depress me, so instead I’ll think about the weekend just gone. Or, err, what I can remember of it.

    Friday
  • Started with pain and fever. Not fun.

  • Continued with bed, and made for TV drama, that had me weeping. I really AM run down!

  • Got better as there was the rather wonderful Green Feet to attend! Turned up early so as to have space, and enough time, to strap myself into corsetry and voluminous skirtage.

  • Did some helpful door-birding.

  • Progressed to ridiculously drunk in record time. As such, memory of comedians is sketchy to say the least. It was all cheeky door-bird charm, right? RIGHT?

  • Memory of spinning around on the dance floor with skirt joy is unfortunately not sketchy in the slightest…

  • I won a thing! Which was tremendously confusing later- I had NO IDEA why I was carrying around a Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall (sp?) book. Oh dear.

  • I really didn’t intend to go to the knicker factory party. I can only claim that [livejournal.com profile] martylog kidnapped me in a taxi.*

  • Yeah, so, er, knicker factory. I’m assuming I didn’t appear in costume. There was an awful lot of blood in a shower. There was random booze, stupid dancing, running around and general silliness. I have a ‘memory’ of possibly jumping off the high thing,** but thinking about it I’m hoping it’s just one of those confusing real seeming dreams.***

  • Later there was shopping and there was singing along to a guitar until stupid o’clock in the morning, at which point sleeping in a bed with a bunch of people I didn’t know**** seemed more feasible than night buses.


  • Saturday
  • It seemed like less of a good idea on Saturday, as the stupid trains to E17 weren’t working, and home / shower / change / emergency food***** before heading Way Out West was necessary.

  • Richmond! It’s rather nice, isn’t it? Spectacularly good though, was seeing [livejournal.com profile] wardytron and [livejournal.com profile] fille_a_paris for the first time in too long, the biggest dog in the world,****** and an excellent pub that gets flooded at high tide. I like Richmond.

  • I don’t like getting from Richmond to Finny P when the transport is gefacked, and I am tiddly enough to forget. Doh.

  • Anyway, I made it to step-sister’s birthday party with a bottle of lambrini and the best of intentions. Which were wrecked when someone pointed out the jugs of potent cocktails lying around everywhere.

  • Oh lord, my dad was there and sober. I ‘remember’ sitting talking to him and realising just how foul-mouthed I am when drunk, f-ing this and f-ing that, and really concentrating on trying not to be. FAIL!

  • Of course, when my siblings plus extras******* arrived and the tequila came out, there was no hope.

  • Er, I taught my step-sister’s dad’s girlfriend******** how to do tequila slammers. Using the mantra ”Lick! Drink! Bite!”. I think I might burn in hell.

  • Hahahah scary voicemail messages courtesy of my brother-in-law to be and myself getting a bit gangsta at [livejournal.com profile] braisedbywolves.

  • Running away in a taxi! (Recurring theme?) To [livejournal.com profile] braisedbywolves’s housewarming.

  • Drunkenly acting like a poly-racist+ as soon as I arrived and arguing with some actually quite lovely poly-types. Er, sorry about that Andrew. They kept giving me beer, I can’t have been too offensive. Can I?

  • Repeated conversation! It’s always the same! Lord!

  • Being escorted homewards by [livejournal.com profile] curious_badger and [livejournal.com profile] drasticsturgeon and put on the right bus. This is where my memory ends. I did wake up in the right bed though, bonus! ++


  • Sunday
  • Yoga? Ahahahahah no. Death. More like.

  • Drag self out of house and head to Bethnal Green. Lord, but I spent a lot of time in the East End this weekend.

  • Wait in pub full of cockernee geeeeezers with Pick Me Up and a shandy, endeavouring to actually pick myself up.

  • Chap doesn’t actually turn up for the Krays Walk. Woe! Still, it’s a lovely day, so pints were supped in The Approach with [livejournal.com profile] mrs_leroy_brown and [livejournal.com profile] hoshuteki.

  • Home for an early night? Well, not before stopping off at the Faltering Fullback to watch the teenagers and their coke habits say “hurrah!” to [livejournal.com profile] moleintheground for his earlier running achievements.

  • Booze soaking kebab.

  • Unconsciousness.


  • ♥ ♥ ♥

    Rinse. Lather. Repeat. My diary tells me I should be out every night this week. I really don’t think that’s appropriate. I feel sick. Moan, moan, moan. Stupid Monday!

    Oh, and I think I’ve lost random bits of stuff along the way. Nothing hugely important, but if you find badges / bits of make up / whatever in any of your houses etc, it’s more than likely to belong to me. Whatamess.










    * Accuracy of this fact is debatable.

    ** I’m certainly bruised and achey enough…

    *** If I’m bored enough later and happy to embarrass my subconscious I might post ‘em.

    **** Fully clothed, sssh.

    ***** It’s at this point, I realised there was no food in the house, except some left over pizza. [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic knows me Very Well Indeed :)

    ****** Seriously, if you turned me into a dog, this one would still have been bigger. Brilliant!

    ******* M’s old school friends I haven’t seen since they were TINY. They are now hulking great men. Very. Weird. Indeed.

    ******** Are you concentrating? There’ll be a test!

    + Mostly because I was still in shock from [livejournal.com profile] fille_a_paris earlier telling me that she thought I was poly myself, what now?? Is anyone else labouring under that impression?!

    ++ Oh hang on, is this why? See + above!
    shewho: (ginbooze)
    Monday morning, how I hate thee. I would count the ways, but that’d only depress me, so instead I’ll think about the weekend just gone. Or, err, what I can remember of it.

    Friday
  • Started with pain and fever. Not fun.

  • Continued with bed, and made for TV drama, that had me weeping. I really AM run down!

  • Got better as there was the rather wonderful Green Feet to attend! Turned up early so as to have space, and enough time, to strap myself into corsetry and voluminous skirtage.

  • Did some helpful door-birding.

  • Progressed to ridiculously drunk in record time. As such, memory of comedians is sketchy to say the least. It was all cheeky door-bird charm, right? RIGHT?

  • Memory of spinning around on the dance floor with skirt joy is unfortunately not sketchy in the slightest…

  • I won a thing! Which was tremendously confusing later- I had NO IDEA why I was carrying around a Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall (sp?) book. Oh dear.

  • I really didn’t intend to go to the knicker factory party. I can only claim that [livejournal.com profile] martylog kidnapped me in a taxi.*

  • Yeah, so, er, knicker factory. I’m assuming I didn’t appear in costume. There was an awful lot of blood in a shower. There was random booze, stupid dancing, running around and general silliness. I have a ‘memory’ of possibly jumping off the high thing,** but thinking about it I’m hoping it’s just one of those confusing real seeming dreams.***

  • Later there was shopping and there was singing along to a guitar until stupid o’clock in the morning, at which point sleeping in a bed with a bunch of people I didn’t know**** seemed more feasible than night buses.


  • Saturday
  • It seemed like less of a good idea on Saturday, as the stupid trains to E17 weren’t working, and home / shower / change / emergency food***** before heading Way Out West was necessary.

  • Richmond! It’s rather nice, isn’t it? Spectacularly good though, was seeing [livejournal.com profile] wardytron and [livejournal.com profile] fille_a_paris for the first time in too long, the biggest dog in the world,****** and an excellent pub that gets flooded at high tide. I like Richmond.

  • I don’t like getting from Richmond to Finny P when the transport is gefacked, and I am tiddly enough to forget. Doh.

  • Anyway, I made it to step-sister’s birthday party with a bottle of lambrini and the best of intentions. Which were wrecked when someone pointed out the jugs of potent cocktails lying around everywhere.

  • Oh lord, my dad was there and sober. I ‘remember’ sitting talking to him and realising just how foul-mouthed I am when drunk, f-ing this and f-ing that, and really concentrating on trying not to be. FAIL!

  • Of course, when my siblings plus extras******* arrived and the tequila came out, there was no hope.

  • Er, I taught my step-sister’s dad’s girlfriend******** how to do tequila slammers. Using the mantra ”Lick! Drink! Bite!”. I think I might burn in hell.

  • Hahahah scary voicemail messages courtesy of my brother-in-law to be and myself getting a bit gangsta at [livejournal.com profile] braisedbywolves.

  • Running away in a taxi! (Recurring theme?) To [livejournal.com profile] braisedbywolves’s housewarming.

  • Drunkenly acting like a poly-racist+ as soon as I arrived and arguing with some actually quite lovely poly-types. Er, sorry about that Andrew. They kept giving me beer, I can’t have been too offensive. Can I?

  • Repeated conversation! It’s always the same! Lord!

  • Being escorted homewards by [livejournal.com profile] curious_badger and [livejournal.com profile] drasticsturgeon and put on the right bus. This is where my memory ends. I did wake up in the right bed though, bonus! ++


  • Sunday
  • Yoga? Ahahahahah no. Death. More like.

  • Drag self out of house and head to Bethnal Green. Lord, but I spent a lot of time in the East End this weekend.

  • Wait in pub full of cockernee geeeeezers with Pick Me Up and a shandy, endeavouring to actually pick myself up.

  • Chap doesn’t actually turn up for the Krays Walk. Woe! Still, it’s a lovely day, so pints were supped in The Approach with [livejournal.com profile] mrs_leroy_brown and [livejournal.com profile] hoshuteki.

  • Home for an early night? Well, not before stopping off at the Faltering Fullback to watch the teenagers and their coke habits say “hurrah!” to [livejournal.com profile] moleintheground for his earlier running achievements.

  • Booze soaking kebab.

  • Unconsciousness.


  • ♥ ♥ ♥

    Rinse. Lather. Repeat. My diary tells me I should be out every night this week. I really don’t think that’s appropriate. I feel sick. Moan, moan, moan. Stupid Monday!

    Oh, and I think I’ve lost random bits of stuff along the way. Nothing hugely important, but if you find badges / bits of make up / whatever in any of your houses etc, it’s more than likely to belong to me. Whatamess.










    * Accuracy of this fact is debatable.

    ** I’m certainly bruised and achey enough…

    *** If I’m bored enough later and happy to embarrass my subconscious I might post ‘em.

    **** Fully clothed, sssh.

    ***** It’s at this point, I realised there was no food in the house, except some left over pizza. [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic knows me Very Well Indeed :)

    ****** Seriously, if you turned me into a dog, this one would still have been bigger. Brilliant!

    ******* M’s old school friends I haven’t seen since they were TINY. They are now hulking great men. Very. Weird. Indeed.

    ******** Are you concentrating? There’ll be a test!

    + Mostly because I was still in shock from [livejournal.com profile] fille_a_paris earlier telling me that she thought I was poly myself, what now?? Is anyone else labouring under that impression?!

    ++ Oh hang on, is this why? See + above!
    shewho: (E17)
    despite a brief break for work on Thursday, the stuff kept continuing.

    Thursday evening I took the wife for dinner locally, to the Village Kitchen, which was nothing inspiring but alright. I had some goose-y pate, very tasty mackerel, and got carried away and also had a creme brulee and demanded some tasty port. Yum! Slightly tipsy by then, I turned down Fullmooners. Twice. (A good decision as it turned out.) Bed. Sleep.

    ***

    Which meant I was sprightly and not dead on Friday, phew! Had a tasty Wimpey with [livejournal.com profile] curiousbadger (what is it about Wimpey in Wembley? It's always RAMMED!) and then headed up to the arena, over excited about Meat Loaf!! Purchase of 1x slutty Loaf t-shirt and 1x fridge magnet complete, we took our seats. Good seats! Closer than the Take That seats some while back. I could see without glasses! Phew!

    It is the Three Bats Tour, so he opened with Paradise by the Dashboard Light (making it EVEN LONGER than it usually is, an almost impossible feat!) and did Bat I stuff, followed by Bat II and then Bat III. Everything you'd expect to hear was there, with the notable exception of Dead Ringer for Love, bad Meat. He was in quite a sulky foul mood too, at one point taking an audience member to task for screaming. Don't have a breakdown chap, I still love you! And I *know* you've been playing some of these songs for longer than I've been alive, but REALLY, don't mess them around so much. Too slow / incomplete / yawn. :(

    Suffice it to say, he wasn't half as good as the last time I saw him. Perhaps that time was only so good as he didn't have a new album to plug. I dunno. My highlight was Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through which is quite possibly my favourite of his. After Hot Summer Night (too slow) and Bat Out of Hell (last of the main set and done properly, phew!). He encored with some rock covers, finishing on Gimmie Shelter. Seriously though, in what world is that better than Bat.....?

    P'shaw.

    Still, there was fire, comedy, and scary inflatable giant people, plus the songs still stand. We had fun at any rate. Literal dance moves ftw!

    ***

    Saturday I had halfheartedly decided to go to Paradise Gardens. But got distracted by Walthamstow Market (heaps of denim duly bought for cheap, slightly cheating I know.....) and tidying my room. Oh shush, sometimes the mood takes you that way. Of course, once I'd found Talk to Me by the 60 Foot Dolls I was actually physically unable to leave the flat at all.

    [Honestly, you think you grow and your music taste matures, but the moment I listened to Angel and Easy (the b-sides) I had to listen to them again and again and again. Just like when I first bought it. Slag 'em off all you want, they have a special place in my heart. What are they doing these days? I can't even remember their names. Carl, I think, was teh drummer, rumoured to enjoy sh1t-play. Oh, and Richard Parfitt (not that one) who, popular indie legend would have it, once received Rick Parfitt's (yes that (Status Quo) one) tax bill.

    But your name *is* Richard Parfitt?
    And you *are* a musician?

    I wonder if it was true....]


    Anyway, the evening contained much lovely massage, lovely Devastations CD and lovely sleep. Lovely. Innit.

    Also, lovely Doctor Who, with a brilliant episode. I can't cope with the evil scarecrows (don't give *them* brains, argh!) but thought Mr Tennant was being superb, and Jessica Stevenson lovely (oh count them of you wish, I don't care :P) and I can't wait for next week.

    ***

    All of which meant that I was up early on Sunday again (!!! two days in a row!!!) and actually went to the gym for my first ever yoga class.

    Oh my! It's *wonderful* isn't it? I don't think my shoulders have been so relaxed in over 10 years. Blimey. Who'd have known that a leathery Essex woman and some dubious New Age Music could work such magick charms! If all that happens is that I relax properly once a week I'm a convert. Actually, it's a bit like the meditation I used to do at the Croydon Buddhist Centre in that respect. (Sssh, I *really* liked the Beatles, alright?)

    Kept up with most of the postures, although am a bit rubbish at things like 'down facing dog' and 'the plank' due to rubbish arm strength. I mean, how can I punch people so hard I almost stop their heart (sorry again Rob!) and not support my own stupid body? Give it time. I plan to be back there every week. We shall see.

    Due to messing up the start time and no trains OR tubes out of Walthamstow, I failed miserably to get out to games day at Clairey & Johnny's mansion (sorry chaps!) and just about had time to head West to Hammersmith, for a mini pub crawl along the river before the Pet Shop Boys.

    Errr, yes. Evil wine lead to speedy inebriation, I do apologise people! However, the PSBs are completely and utterly MARVELLOUS. Seriously. Everything they played was a classic. They have so many! And they played them properly. Listen up, Meat. They were so good, I'm going again on Wednesday. I shall be drinking less though.

    ***

    Monday was therefore a washout. And not just because of the rain. Headache. Cold. So bed and duvet and BURNING pizza were the only ways forward.

    Got this far? Have a medal.

    ***

    Or some (rubbish cameraphone) random Meat Loaf pictures! )


    ***

    Who am I going to see at 7ish in the Bull & Gate tonight then?
    shewho: (E17)
    despite a brief break for work on Thursday, the stuff kept continuing.

    Thursday evening I took the wife for dinner locally, to the Village Kitchen, which was nothing inspiring but alright. I had some goose-y pate, very tasty mackerel, and got carried away and also had a creme brulee and demanded some tasty port. Yum! Slightly tipsy by then, I turned down Fullmooners. Twice. (A good decision as it turned out.) Bed. Sleep.

    ***

    Which meant I was sprightly and not dead on Friday, phew! Had a tasty Wimpey with [livejournal.com profile] curiousbadger (what is it about Wimpey in Wembley? It's always RAMMED!) and then headed up to the arena, over excited about Meat Loaf!! Purchase of 1x slutty Loaf t-shirt and 1x fridge magnet complete, we took our seats. Good seats! Closer than the Take That seats some while back. I could see without glasses! Phew!

    It is the Three Bats Tour, so he opened with Paradise by the Dashboard Light (making it EVEN LONGER than it usually is, an almost impossible feat!) and did Bat I stuff, followed by Bat II and then Bat III. Everything you'd expect to hear was there, with the notable exception of Dead Ringer for Love, bad Meat. He was in quite a sulky foul mood too, at one point taking an audience member to task for screaming. Don't have a breakdown chap, I still love you! And I *know* you've been playing some of these songs for longer than I've been alive, but REALLY, don't mess them around so much. Too slow / incomplete / yawn. :(

    Suffice it to say, he wasn't half as good as the last time I saw him. Perhaps that time was only so good as he didn't have a new album to plug. I dunno. My highlight was Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through which is quite possibly my favourite of his. After Hot Summer Night (too slow) and Bat Out of Hell (last of the main set and done properly, phew!). He encored with some rock covers, finishing on Gimmie Shelter. Seriously though, in what world is that better than Bat.....?

    P'shaw.

    Still, there was fire, comedy, and scary inflatable giant people, plus the songs still stand. We had fun at any rate. Literal dance moves ftw!

    ***

    Saturday I had halfheartedly decided to go to Paradise Gardens. But got distracted by Walthamstow Market (heaps of denim duly bought for cheap, slightly cheating I know.....) and tidying my room. Oh shush, sometimes the mood takes you that way. Of course, once I'd found Talk to Me by the 60 Foot Dolls I was actually physically unable to leave the flat at all.

    [Honestly, you think you grow and your music taste matures, but the moment I listened to Angel and Easy (the b-sides) I had to listen to them again and again and again. Just like when I first bought it. Slag 'em off all you want, they have a special place in my heart. What are they doing these days? I can't even remember their names. Carl, I think, was teh drummer, rumoured to enjoy sh1t-play. Oh, and Richard Parfitt (not that one) who, popular indie legend would have it, once received Rick Parfitt's (yes that (Status Quo) one) tax bill.

    But your name *is* Richard Parfitt?
    And you *are* a musician?

    I wonder if it was true....]


    Anyway, the evening contained much lovely massage, lovely Devastations CD and lovely sleep. Lovely. Innit.

    Also, lovely Doctor Who, with a brilliant episode. I can't cope with the evil scarecrows (don't give *them* brains, argh!) but thought Mr Tennant was being superb, and Jessica Stevenson lovely (oh count them of you wish, I don't care :P) and I can't wait for next week.

    ***

    All of which meant that I was up early on Sunday again (!!! two days in a row!!!) and actually went to the gym for my first ever yoga class.

    Oh my! It's *wonderful* isn't it? I don't think my shoulders have been so relaxed in over 10 years. Blimey. Who'd have known that a leathery Essex woman and some dubious New Age Music could work such magick charms! If all that happens is that I relax properly once a week I'm a convert. Actually, it's a bit like the meditation I used to do at the Croydon Buddhist Centre in that respect. (Sssh, I *really* liked the Beatles, alright?)

    Kept up with most of the postures, although am a bit rubbish at things like 'down facing dog' and 'the plank' due to rubbish arm strength. I mean, how can I punch people so hard I almost stop their heart (sorry again Rob!) and not support my own stupid body? Give it time. I plan to be back there every week. We shall see.

    Due to messing up the start time and no trains OR tubes out of Walthamstow, I failed miserably to get out to games day at Clairey & Johnny's mansion (sorry chaps!) and just about had time to head West to Hammersmith, for a mini pub crawl along the river before the Pet Shop Boys.

    Errr, yes. Evil wine lead to speedy inebriation, I do apologise people! However, the PSBs are completely and utterly MARVELLOUS. Seriously. Everything they played was a classic. They have so many! And they played them properly. Listen up, Meat. They were so good, I'm going again on Wednesday. I shall be drinking less though.

    ***

    Monday was therefore a washout. And not just because of the rain. Headache. Cold. So bed and duvet and BURNING pizza were the only ways forward.

    Got this far? Have a medal.

    ***

    Or some (rubbish cameraphone) random Meat Loaf pictures! )


    ***

    Who am I going to see at 7ish in the Bull & Gate tonight then?
    shewho: (cheese!)
    I have failed miserably to do a proper update in a while. You might hear a lot from me today dear internets, sorry!

    Last week then, the weekend started on a Wednesday. Horrifically early in fact, meeting my travelling companions ([livejournal.com profile] perfectlyvague and [livejournal.com profile] fugitvemotel at Kings Cross, earlier than I'd usually be at work. From there a painless journey via Luton and Easyjet to PARIS.

    (I found myself drinking a stiff gin and tonic at half ten in the morning. Well, a combination of 'Anansi Says', a scary fact about flying, and the fact the gin was in a bag drove me to it!)

    I had never been to Paris before. I had never daytripped abroad before. This was all incredibly exciting! But not as exciting as all the signs to Orly, prompting stupid yarly comments and hysteria. Heh.

    So, the David Lynch exhibition then. The main reason we went. I don't think there's any way a text description of it could do it justice, to be honest. (Certainly not from me.) It was amazing. In an unsettling and uncomfortable, yet wonderful way. The first room was a little disturbing, huge grey canvases, lots of houses, simple yet dark paintings that appeared to have stories, and lettering snaking around them telling you. (Um, the letter style remind me a lot of the cover of Nearly God. Actually, there was a very similar vibe. Ugh. Bad word.) In the background was that typical Lynch music. You know what I mean. Rumbling away, and almost making me feel sick. Around the edges of the room were drawings / sketches / doodles on anything and everything. The man's brain doesn't stop working, does it?

    Anyway. Then on into the second room. The music continues eerily in the background. Huge canvases again. ARGH! Scary and bad and wrong! Too many women with holes in and pen1s type protrusions. Scary red man! Lots and lots of 'Bobs'. Lynch likes calling people in his art 'Bob'. They aren't just paintings either, he'll whack on some hair and fabric and anything he finds if he thinks they need it. Somewhat amazing, but I'm surprised I haven't had any nightmares.

    Downstairs there is the ace Snowman series of photographs, his Disfigured (?) Nudes (again freaking me out), lots of photography, a mini cinema showing short films (the monsterboy wanting milk makes me Very Happy) and my favourite bit of the whole exhibition. This is a small painting of a room on the wall, and then a real life copy of the painting you can walk into. Smaller at the back to get the same perspective. Simple things for my simple mind, but I walked through the doors at the back and round again several times, hoping that one time I'd become a dwarf and start talking backwards. It almost felt it could have happened.

    So yes, that alone was worth the trip.

    We then spent a lovely, relaxing day, no stress, no problems, just wandering around Paris, Ms H leading the way with an infallible sense of direction. Through the gorgeous Luxembourg Gardens looking at the art. Through busy shopping streets (and seeing the most darling polkadot dress on the way) to Pont Neuf and the Seine..... to the Louvre (only on the outside!) to be amazed at the sheer scale of the place.... Up to the Sacre Couer, the hard way via the stairs as the funicular was broken.... looking over the whole of Paris from on high...through the random garment district then towards Gare du Nord via picking up some (very) tasty cheese at a fromagerie...... a tasty croque madame and pastis for tea (well, when in Rome Paris &c...!) and then back on the RER to Charles de Gaulle and the flight back.

    I was tucked up in bed before half midnight, and slept well.

    ***

    Paris is lovely, isn't it? I was expecting attitude and snootiness and overly busy streets. But got relaxing and pretty and charming and helpful and and and and...... I felt very comfortable there. In fact, I'd like to go back and do it properly. Despite my RUBBISH French, I'd even feel confident enough to do it on my own. I might do this. Not this year. But soon and for the rest of my life....

    ***

    Some random photos from my phone as proof I actually went! )
    shewho: (cheese!)
    I have failed miserably to do a proper update in a while. You might hear a lot from me today dear internets, sorry!

    Last week then, the weekend started on a Wednesday. Horrifically early in fact, meeting my travelling companions ([livejournal.com profile] perfectlyvague and [livejournal.com profile] fugitvemotel at Kings Cross, earlier than I'd usually be at work. From there a painless journey via Luton and Easyjet to PARIS.

    (I found myself drinking a stiff gin and tonic at half ten in the morning. Well, a combination of 'Anansi Says', a scary fact about flying, and the fact the gin was in a bag drove me to it!)

    I had never been to Paris before. I had never daytripped abroad before. This was all incredibly exciting! But not as exciting as all the signs to Orly, prompting stupid yarly comments and hysteria. Heh.

    So, the David Lynch exhibition then. The main reason we went. I don't think there's any way a text description of it could do it justice, to be honest. (Certainly not from me.) It was amazing. In an unsettling and uncomfortable, yet wonderful way. The first room was a little disturbing, huge grey canvases, lots of houses, simple yet dark paintings that appeared to have stories, and lettering snaking around them telling you. (Um, the letter style remind me a lot of the cover of Nearly God. Actually, there was a very similar vibe. Ugh. Bad word.) In the background was that typical Lynch music. You know what I mean. Rumbling away, and almost making me feel sick. Around the edges of the room were drawings / sketches / doodles on anything and everything. The man's brain doesn't stop working, does it?

    Anyway. Then on into the second room. The music continues eerily in the background. Huge canvases again. ARGH! Scary and bad and wrong! Too many women with holes in and pen1s type protrusions. Scary red man! Lots and lots of 'Bobs'. Lynch likes calling people in his art 'Bob'. They aren't just paintings either, he'll whack on some hair and fabric and anything he finds if he thinks they need it. Somewhat amazing, but I'm surprised I haven't had any nightmares.

    Downstairs there is the ace Snowman series of photographs, his Disfigured (?) Nudes (again freaking me out), lots of photography, a mini cinema showing short films (the monsterboy wanting milk makes me Very Happy) and my favourite bit of the whole exhibition. This is a small painting of a room on the wall, and then a real life copy of the painting you can walk into. Smaller at the back to get the same perspective. Simple things for my simple mind, but I walked through the doors at the back and round again several times, hoping that one time I'd become a dwarf and start talking backwards. It almost felt it could have happened.

    So yes, that alone was worth the trip.

    We then spent a lovely, relaxing day, no stress, no problems, just wandering around Paris, Ms H leading the way with an infallible sense of direction. Through the gorgeous Luxembourg Gardens looking at the art. Through busy shopping streets (and seeing the most darling polkadot dress on the way) to Pont Neuf and the Seine..... to the Louvre (only on the outside!) to be amazed at the sheer scale of the place.... Up to the Sacre Couer, the hard way via the stairs as the funicular was broken.... looking over the whole of Paris from on high...through the random garment district then towards Gare du Nord via picking up some (very) tasty cheese at a fromagerie...... a tasty croque madame and pastis for tea (well, when in Rome Paris &c...!) and then back on the RER to Charles de Gaulle and the flight back.

    I was tucked up in bed before half midnight, and slept well.

    ***

    Paris is lovely, isn't it? I was expecting attitude and snootiness and overly busy streets. But got relaxing and pretty and charming and helpful and and and and...... I felt very comfortable there. In fact, I'd like to go back and do it properly. Despite my RUBBISH French, I'd even feel confident enough to do it on my own. I might do this. Not this year. But soon and for the rest of my life....

    ***

    Some random photos from my phone as proof I actually went! )
    shewho: (fmf)
    It’s been a morning submersed in music. Wonderful, lovely music.

    On the train into work this morning I finally decided to stop listening to the iPod on shuffle, and got up the courage to listen to the new Manic Street Preachers album, seeing as the gigs are rapidly approaching. And oh my word! What happened? It’s actually rather good. This I was not expecting. I can hold my head up high and say I like them for the first time in a while. I wasn’t listening too closely (distracted by the book below) so can’t really say too much, except I did have to stop and do *nothing* else whilst listening to the wonderful Autumnsong with it’s beautiful Bradders soaring guitar lines and excellent solos, and am also loving Winterlovers (heh, I see a seasonal theme!) with the deliberately rough-edged backing vocals in a 60s girl group style. Marvellous! The ‘secret’ track too, ah, wonderful wonderful work. Ranting. Almost a dark surf vibe. Very happy indeed! Imperial Bodybags, however, lived up to my fears. I should stick with my not-listening-to-lyrics-but-revelling-in-music principles. Nicky, Nicky, Nicky….

    ***

    And speaking of Nickys / Nikkis (!) the book that kept distracting me is of course The Dirt, Motley Crue biog. It hasn’t even got particularly filthy and wrong yet, but is compulsive reading. I almost missed my bus stop. I don’t even particularly like the Crue that much either. Hopefully I won’t get as carried away with this book as much as I normally do, otherwise I’ll be fvcking girls all over the place and have really scary hair. You’ll know.

    ***

    Also decided to give The Devastations a listen, now ATP is fading in my memory… :(

    [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic is right, yes, the album doesn’t really show what they can do like the live experience does. But the songs are still lovely, albeit in a different way. And in places you can fill in the noise and guitars with your mind, at least, I can see (remember?) where they came in on some of the tracks. I’ve been listening to some new demos on myspace as well, which are different again. Very mellow. Soundtrack-like. Hmmm.

    ***

    Prince Rogers Nelson! I *shall* be going to the ball. 17th August, 02 Arena. HELL YEAH.

    [I’m not going to count up the amount of stadium sized gigs I shall be attending this year, for I fear the indie snob buried deep inside me would be Very Disappointed Indeed. Still, OMG! 2 weeks today I shall be getting ridiculously excited about MEAT LOAF in the evening! EEEE!]

    ***

    Netiquette / Text-iquette (?) I almost always (unless I *really* don’t know or like you. Or I’m too drunk to function) sign off my emails and texts with a ‘xxx’. There’s no implication attached. It’s mostly force of habit. (More than 3 probably means you have done something spectacularly good!)

    But do you read anything into it? Do you feel obliged to respond with a ‘x’? Even if you wouldn’t normally?

    I’m not *worried*, just curious…..

    EDIT: I am a spanner. Comments re-enabled. Disabling was completely unintentional. Doh.
    shewho: (fmf)
    It’s been a morning submersed in music. Wonderful, lovely music.

    On the train into work this morning I finally decided to stop listening to the iPod on shuffle, and got up the courage to listen to the new Manic Street Preachers album, seeing as the gigs are rapidly approaching. And oh my word! What happened? It’s actually rather good. This I was not expecting. I can hold my head up high and say I like them for the first time in a while. I wasn’t listening too closely (distracted by the book below) so can’t really say too much, except I did have to stop and do *nothing* else whilst listening to the wonderful Autumnsong with it’s beautiful Bradders soaring guitar lines and excellent solos, and am also loving Winterlovers (heh, I see a seasonal theme!) with the deliberately rough-edged backing vocals in a 60s girl group style. Marvellous! The ‘secret’ track too, ah, wonderful wonderful work. Ranting. Almost a dark surf vibe. Very happy indeed! Imperial Bodybags, however, lived up to my fears. I should stick with my not-listening-to-lyrics-but-revelling-in-music principles. Nicky, Nicky, Nicky….

    ***

    And speaking of Nickys / Nikkis (!) the book that kept distracting me is of course The Dirt, Motley Crue biog. It hasn’t even got particularly filthy and wrong yet, but is compulsive reading. I almost missed my bus stop. I don’t even particularly like the Crue that much either. Hopefully I won’t get as carried away with this book as much as I normally do, otherwise I’ll be fvcking girls all over the place and have really scary hair. You’ll know.

    ***

    Also decided to give The Devastations a listen, now ATP is fading in my memory… :(

    [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic is right, yes, the album doesn’t really show what they can do like the live experience does. But the songs are still lovely, albeit in a different way. And in places you can fill in the noise and guitars with your mind, at least, I can see (remember?) where they came in on some of the tracks. I’ve been listening to some new demos on myspace as well, which are different again. Very mellow. Soundtrack-like. Hmmm.

    ***

    Prince Rogers Nelson! I *shall* be going to the ball. 17th August, 02 Arena. HELL YEAH.

    [I’m not going to count up the amount of stadium sized gigs I shall be attending this year, for I fear the indie snob buried deep inside me would be Very Disappointed Indeed. Still, OMG! 2 weeks today I shall be getting ridiculously excited about MEAT LOAF in the evening! EEEE!]

    ***

    Netiquette / Text-iquette (?) I almost always (unless I *really* don’t know or like you. Or I’m too drunk to function) sign off my emails and texts with a ‘xxx’. There’s no implication attached. It’s mostly force of habit. (More than 3 probably means you have done something spectacularly good!)

    But do you read anything into it? Do you feel obliged to respond with a ‘x’? Even if you wouldn’t normally?

    I’m not *worried*, just curious…..

    EDIT: I am a spanner. Comments re-enabled. Disabling was completely unintentional. Doh.
    shewho: (ginbooze)
    *Takes deep breath*

    Here goes!

    This entry is likely to contain overexcited babbling along the lines of 'FLUMES!' 'Bring the NOISE!' 'HELL YEAH!' 'Drink through!' 'Straight through!' 'I've been really irritating...' )

    ****

    This is ridiculously long! I am making an editorial decision to put the rest of Saturday and Sunday in another entry. Blimey. tl;dr indeed!












    * In my family, this means you've won. Won what, I don't know, but it's always satisfying...
    ** "Hardest working man in rock and roll" apparently! I'm pretty sure this is true, seeing as he did seem to be in 75% of the bands on in some way or another.....!
    *** You all love me even though I'm REALLY annoying, don't you?
    **** Alone Again Or, plus that one I can sing to you if you like but the only lyric I can remember right now is "....street, yeah..... Tell me!
    shewho: (ginbooze)
    *Takes deep breath*

    Here goes!

    This entry is likely to contain overexcited babbling along the lines of 'FLUMES!' 'Bring the NOISE!' 'HELL YEAH!' 'Drink through!' 'Straight through!' 'I've been really irritating...' )

    ****

    This is ridiculously long! I am making an editorial decision to put the rest of Saturday and Sunday in another entry. Blimey. tl;dr indeed!












    * In my family, this means you've won. Won what, I don't know, but it's always satisfying...
    ** "Hardest working man in rock and roll" apparently! I'm pretty sure this is true, seeing as he did seem to be in 75% of the bands on in some way or another.....!
    *** You all love me even though I'm REALLY annoying, don't you?
    **** Alone Again Or, plus that one I can sing to you if you like but the only lyric I can remember right now is "....street, yeah..... Tell me!
    shewho: (objection)
    I should have had my final* filling this morning, but my dentist cancelled on me, ill. This is the 2nd out of 3 appointments total where he’s done this, and the other one I fear he was drunk / hungover. I’m a bit wary of my dentist.

    ~~~

    It has been a week of endings. I have FINALLY finished Phoenix Wright 2, hurrah! Edgeworth remains totty, Franziska remains irritating, a busty dead woman in a child’s clothes / body remains Quite Wrong. What next? Shall I attempt to catch up to [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic in Hotel Dusk? Or train my brain a bit? Or even let [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic have his console back? Decisions!

    ~~~

    Also finished: Leaving Dirty Jersey by James Salant (thank you [livejournal.com profile] barrysarll ). A true account of descent into crystal meth addiction and the accompanying filthy lifestyle. I’m in 2 minds about this book. My thinking mind doesn’t find it desperately engaging, and a lot of the time I’ve been thinking ‘so what?’, but occasionally, as was the case this morning, I have managed to de-tune my brain to a Sunday-afternoon-way-home-from-Friday state of being, and all the crazy decisions suddenly make sense and are reasonable, and *I’m* losing track of time and what day it is and what’s real, so perhaps the book is doing exactly what it should do.

    My major gripe would be a lack of description of what it actually feels like when doing meth. Everything else sounds so sordid, there has to be a payback. What is it? It only makes me more curious, which is Very Dangerous. Actually, there is a fabulous** description of an overdose, which had me thinking ‘oooh that sounds intriguing, must try it someday’ before catching the thought and slapping myself hard in the face.

    I don’t think I should ever try crystal meth. Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t. This book has not changed my mind. I (mentally) walk a dangerous tightrope of complete hedonist*** (More, more, more! Must try EVERYTHING! New experience? Yes! Please!) and extreme control freak**** which mostly keeps me in check. Well, there’s a whole range of checks and balances, but it mainly works. Perhaps I’ll not mess with it.

    Next book on the list: Naked Lunch. I feel like tackling it again. Last time I tried I couldn’t really get into it properly. Time to give it another go…

    ~~~

    Last night, return to the Book Club at the Albany. Pretty quiet numbers wise, but fun. Accidental drinking of too much wine***** and being seated at the front means I get to be [livejournal.com profile] martylog’s autocue. Try very hard not to sing along in a karaoke style. This is hard when a [livejournal.com profile] shewho is on stage and there is music. Sorry! Phil Jeays sensibly turns down my offer of repeat word carrying, and uses a music stand, boo. I like the Phil Jeays band, but I’m more’n happy just to see them live occasionally, rather than listen to stuff at home. I also like Tom Bell and his mate Ed’s (?) sketch. Jo Neary reads old diaries. Man, if only I could find my diary. I called it Christian. Guess why! I like Natalie Haynes. I like Dan Trap. I like Chris Neill. I like Robin Ince. WHY WON’T HE READ FROM THE CRAZY BEATLES LADY BOOK THE BIG TEASE? Ahem. Peter Buckley Hill weirds me out with bottom obsessing. I have forgotten to tell [livejournal.com profile] braisedbywolves why he scared me before. What else was there? I dunno. Wine. I had a lovely evening.

    ~~~

    Oh, and I’ve got a daemon too. It would appear to be a mouse. A mouse!! I ask you. Anyway, under the cut you can click and see if you agree with the outcome or not. Change me into a ferret or a cockroach, who knows!










    * For the moment
    ** ‘Fabulous’? Bad choice of word. Probably.
    *** Thanks mum…
    **** Thanks dad…
    ***** Yeah, yeah, I know. Had a duck egg on toast as emergency feel better breakfast. Found 1/3 a bottle of wine in my bag. Err, hurrah for screwtops?
    shewho: (objection)
    I should have had my final* filling this morning, but my dentist cancelled on me, ill. This is the 2nd out of 3 appointments total where he’s done this, and the other one I fear he was drunk / hungover. I’m a bit wary of my dentist.

    ~~~

    It has been a week of endings. I have FINALLY finished Phoenix Wright 2, hurrah! Edgeworth remains totty, Franziska remains irritating, a busty dead woman in a child’s clothes / body remains Quite Wrong. What next? Shall I attempt to catch up to [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic in Hotel Dusk? Or train my brain a bit? Or even let [livejournal.com profile] p_dan_tic have his console back? Decisions!

    ~~~

    Also finished: Leaving Dirty Jersey by James Salant (thank you [livejournal.com profile] barrysarll ). A true account of descent into crystal meth addiction and the accompanying filthy lifestyle. I’m in 2 minds about this book. My thinking mind doesn’t find it desperately engaging, and a lot of the time I’ve been thinking ‘so what?’, but occasionally, as was the case this morning, I have managed to de-tune my brain to a Sunday-afternoon-way-home-from-Friday state of being, and all the crazy decisions suddenly make sense and are reasonable, and *I’m* losing track of time and what day it is and what’s real, so perhaps the book is doing exactly what it should do.

    My major gripe would be a lack of description of what it actually feels like when doing meth. Everything else sounds so sordid, there has to be a payback. What is it? It only makes me more curious, which is Very Dangerous. Actually, there is a fabulous** description of an overdose, which had me thinking ‘oooh that sounds intriguing, must try it someday’ before catching the thought and slapping myself hard in the face.

    I don’t think I should ever try crystal meth. Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t. This book has not changed my mind. I (mentally) walk a dangerous tightrope of complete hedonist*** (More, more, more! Must try EVERYTHING! New experience? Yes! Please!) and extreme control freak**** which mostly keeps me in check. Well, there’s a whole range of checks and balances, but it mainly works. Perhaps I’ll not mess with it.

    Next book on the list: Naked Lunch. I feel like tackling it again. Last time I tried I couldn’t really get into it properly. Time to give it another go…

    ~~~

    Last night, return to the Book Club at the Albany. Pretty quiet numbers wise, but fun. Accidental drinking of too much wine***** and being seated at the front means I get to be [livejournal.com profile] martylog’s autocue. Try very hard not to sing along in a karaoke style. This is hard when a [livejournal.com profile] shewho is on stage and there is music. Sorry! Phil Jeays sensibly turns down my offer of repeat word carrying, and uses a music stand, boo. I like the Phil Jeays band, but I’m more’n happy just to see them live occasionally, rather than listen to stuff at home. I also like Tom Bell and his mate Ed’s (?) sketch. Jo Neary reads old diaries. Man, if only I could find my diary. I called it Christian. Guess why! I like Natalie Haynes. I like Dan Trap. I like Chris Neill. I like Robin Ince. WHY WON’T HE READ FROM THE CRAZY BEATLES LADY BOOK THE BIG TEASE? Ahem. Peter Buckley Hill weirds me out with bottom obsessing. I have forgotten to tell [livejournal.com profile] braisedbywolves why he scared me before. What else was there? I dunno. Wine. I had a lovely evening.

    ~~~

    Oh, and I’ve got a daemon too. It would appear to be a mouse. A mouse!! I ask you. Anyway, under the cut you can click and see if you agree with the outcome or not. Change me into a ferret or a cockroach, who knows!










    * For the moment
    ** ‘Fabulous’? Bad choice of word. Probably.
    *** Thanks mum…
    **** Thanks dad…
    ***** Yeah, yeah, I know. Had a duck egg on toast as emergency feel better breakfast. Found 1/3 a bottle of wine in my bag. Err, hurrah for screwtops?
    shewho: (big bug)
    [Scroll down, scroll down; the important bits are at the bottom!]

    ***

    They’ve been digging up our street and the streets around it for months now. Waterworks, I think. Bl00dy waterworks, I growl, early Saturday mornings when the hammering and breaking up of the surface they’ve only just put down starts again.

    But every now and then in the morning on the way to work I’ll notice the colourful squiggles and codes and markings on the pavement and it makes me smile. The dots and the pipes and the symbols in cheery bright yellows and blues and pinks marking out the phone lines, cable lines, and other things I can’t manage to decode. It reminds me of going to school to find the games newly painted in the playground, so you could actually *see* the hopscotch grid again, and follow the footprints to the treasure.

    Little things.

    I remember a boy at infant school called Miles something or other. I want to say Davis but that’s not right. Obviously. He loved the painted lines. A little too much. Every playtime he’d walk along the double yellow lines edging the netball court, one foot on each. Round and round and round. Sometimes, at the end of break, a teacher would have to gently coax him off the lines and back into school. He’d make a fuss and cry. He thought he was a robot. Those were *his* lines, it was his job to walk along them.

    I sometimes wonder what happened to Miles and his bowl cut and his robotics.

    ***

    ….and speaking of possible mental illness (worst segue EVER!) we watched The Devil and Daniel Johnston last night. It is an excellent film, but makes for very difficult watching. It is certainly not a Top Date Movie.

    I’ve never really been hugely into his music, although I know bits and bobs. (One of the major benefits of a shared iPod you only listen to on shuffle! p_dan_tic has acquired a taste for Steinman, I’ve acquired a taste for Drugstore. Hmmmm.) I did, however, like his drawings and paintings when I saw them at some anti-folk exhibition at The Spitz. I wish I’d seen this film first, it’d make more sense.

    It felt wrong and voyeuristic seeing actual footage of his actual breakdown, and there were times I could only stare, mouth open, at the telly. Powerful stuff. It did get me thinking a bit though. He’s there, at this concerts, sermonising and preaching in between songs, scenesters are applauding and screaming. Is this helpful? Does it make his delusions worse? Make him more likely to come of his tablets? Maybe it is helpful, makes him feel he isn’t so alone. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m even forming the questions that are in my head properly, never mind asking the right ones.

    I couldn’t sleep properly last night again, this may have had something to do with it.

    ***

    Bad Things
  • Stupid Viacom have pulled out of whatever deal they had with MBNA, meaning my Star Trek card will no longer be a Star Trek card. I hadn’t even spent enough to get to TNG level! I don’t want to be stuck with a TOS themed card! Rubbish!

  • Stupid First Direct should not send out banking text messages at 6.45am. Seriously. Ow.


  • A Can You Help Me Thing
    I’m taking my mother to the ballet on Thursday. I can’t seem to find my tickets. This is a worry. If you were a ticket to the ballet, where in my flat would YOU be hiding?
    If you’re right, you can take my mother to the ballet for me you win a kiss. On the cheek. Possibly.*

    P.S. My phone number is definitely back to the usual one now, hurrah! Ends 457.








    *All rights reserved.
    shewho: (big bug)
    [Scroll down, scroll down; the important bits are at the bottom!]

    ***

    They’ve been digging up our street and the streets around it for months now. Waterworks, I think. Bl00dy waterworks, I growl, early Saturday mornings when the hammering and breaking up of the surface they’ve only just put down starts again.

    But every now and then in the morning on the way to work I’ll notice the colourful squiggles and codes and markings on the pavement and it makes me smile. The dots and the pipes and the symbols in cheery bright yellows and blues and pinks marking out the phone lines, cable lines, and other things I can’t manage to decode. It reminds me of going to school to find the games newly painted in the playground, so you could actually *see* the hopscotch grid again, and follow the footprints to the treasure.

    Little things.

    I remember a boy at infant school called Miles something or other. I want to say Davis but that’s not right. Obviously. He loved the painted lines. A little too much. Every playtime he’d walk along the double yellow lines edging the netball court, one foot on each. Round and round and round. Sometimes, at the end of break, a teacher would have to gently coax him off the lines and back into school. He’d make a fuss and cry. He thought he was a robot. Those were *his* lines, it was his job to walk along them.

    I sometimes wonder what happened to Miles and his bowl cut and his robotics.

    ***

    ….and speaking of possible mental illness (worst segue EVER!) we watched The Devil and Daniel Johnston last night. It is an excellent film, but makes for very difficult watching. It is certainly not a Top Date Movie.

    I’ve never really been hugely into his music, although I know bits and bobs. (One of the major benefits of a shared iPod you only listen to on shuffle! p_dan_tic has acquired a taste for Steinman, I’ve acquired a taste for Drugstore. Hmmmm.) I did, however, like his drawings and paintings when I saw them at some anti-folk exhibition at The Spitz. I wish I’d seen this film first, it’d make more sense.

    It felt wrong and voyeuristic seeing actual footage of his actual breakdown, and there were times I could only stare, mouth open, at the telly. Powerful stuff. It did get me thinking a bit though. He’s there, at this concerts, sermonising and preaching in between songs, scenesters are applauding and screaming. Is this helpful? Does it make his delusions worse? Make him more likely to come of his tablets? Maybe it is helpful, makes him feel he isn’t so alone. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m even forming the questions that are in my head properly, never mind asking the right ones.

    I couldn’t sleep properly last night again, this may have had something to do with it.

    ***

    Bad Things
  • Stupid Viacom have pulled out of whatever deal they had with MBNA, meaning my Star Trek card will no longer be a Star Trek card. I hadn’t even spent enough to get to TNG level! I don’t want to be stuck with a TOS themed card! Rubbish!

  • Stupid First Direct should not send out banking text messages at 6.45am. Seriously. Ow.


  • A Can You Help Me Thing
    I’m taking my mother to the ballet on Thursday. I can’t seem to find my tickets. This is a worry. If you were a ticket to the ballet, where in my flat would YOU be hiding?
    If you’re right, you can take my mother to the ballet for me you win a kiss. On the cheek. Possibly.*

    P.S. My phone number is definitely back to the usual one now, hurrah! Ends 457.








    *All rights reserved.

    December 2015

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