my own private hidey-hole

The best thing this weekend was getting an email asking if I wanted to go to a Dick Party. Of course, the only possible answer to that question is HELL YEAH! BAYUUUUUP. Ah, joy!

***

It’s been an interesting weekend, in which I have spectacularly failed to do most of the things I planned to do. Things I did do, however:

Friday

Drinkies in the Foundry. Absinthe & lemonade is rather delicious!

Bedroom Bar! Dancing! Drinking! Lounging on beds with ace people! Leaving at a sensible(ish) hour! Ah, I always have an ace night there.

***

Saturday

Lovely drinkies in the Chandos for yiskah’s birthday.

Toasties! YEAH!

Falling over. BOO

Attempting to fall over repeatedly! I don’t understand. Perhaps my shoes were too small and my blood not alcoholic enough.

Home for Doctor Who (meh, although I can’t really comment due to repeated closing of eyes) and pizza and getting ready for slaughterhaus5

Schoolboy (girl?) Error!!! Lying down. Dozing. Did make it to the bus stop, bus didn’t appear. Went back home. Slept. On a Saturnight! Rubbish.

Sweet, sweet, sleep.

***

Sunday

The day of being stood up!

Yoga is cancelled, as I am almost ready for it. Gah!

Tea and cookies is postponed.

I don’t mind, and crack on with serious sewing. Only broke 2 of my machine needles! Well, you try sewing hugely gathered denim and see what happens! End result = basic skirt shape. Now to faff around with ‘windows’ and get some boning and make an underskirt out of the sheet I ruined in the washing machine. Recycle baybee, yeah!

Also manage to deconstruct bodice and start cutting pieces out of actual t-shirts. Wheeee! I can do this! Discover wedding decorations are perfect for lining too. More recycling! Yeah!

Bloomsbury Ballroom for CocoRosie. The venue is weird, but somehow beautiful. The mirrorballs make me sick. The weird kitchen / diner makes me happy. Bump into lanarak and friends.

Rio en Mendio or something similar is all girlish voice and quiet noise and pretty fey. Enjoy muchly.

Tez is a human beatbox. He’s good, but I’ve seen Beardyman….

CocoRosie are entrancing and mesmerising and weirdly vocalled. Tez comes into his own as their ‘percussion’ for the evening. I want to learn the harp. It’s dancy and ethereal and absolutely marvellous. Well done there.

Hipsters, however, appear to get dirtier, and more stupid-haired every day. Cuh.

***

Monday
Ah, I’m in a shockingly good mood today dear livejournal. (Well, I was....)

♥ Perhaps the recent woe was rooted in hormones. (I should check these things really but I’m far too lazy…)
♥ Perhaps I’m happy due to a decent nights sleep?
♥ Perhaps it has something to do with the fact I’m currently sleeping in this.
♥ Perhaps it’s due to my copy of yiskah’s book arriving, new read for the commute that doesn’t make me angry!
♥ Perhaps it’s due to some moocards arriving, though eh, they didn’t quite do what I told them to, and I have no idea what to use them for!
♥ Perhaps it’s due to Republic of Loose English tour dates I can actually get to! If you’re at a loose end 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th July, you should go see them. I think I can do the 3rd.
♥ Perhaps it’s due to my face popping up all over facebook, how entertaining. (Actually, normally this would make me cry…)

What’s keeping you cheery today, dear internet?

Dream News
The dreaming subconscious is brilliant, isn’t it? Last night, my brain realised I was sprawled across the bed in an unusual spread-eagled fashion, and that I’d wake up all stiff and sore. Instead of calmly moving / waking me, it sent me a dream in which I was an Asian male* and going parachuting. However, my ‘chute failed to open, and I sped towards the earth** and smashed into it, landing in a (you’ve guessed it) bizarrely spread-eagled fashion - exactly the same as I was actually lying in. People tried to move my legs, but they were stuck and painful. And thus I woke up, and curled into my typical foetal sleeping pose, before nodding off again.

Woke up again as D came home***, only to drift off into a dream about watching Drugstore live, with Thom Yorke playing guitar and not singing (??) to El Presidente. Dream only notable for Isabelle Drugstore looking not like herself but my friend TM’s mother, and a lot of crowd walk-outs, causing a Thom Yorke rant, and a sensible audience heckle.

~~~

Diary News
Last night, an early repast of strange tapas creatures (the cheese based things are best. Cheese, posh ham and quince jelly ftw!) and a chat with green_badger****. Home in time for ER, how reasonable! Anyway ER, bleak bleak bleak. Although if you overload ALL the main characters with the bleak***** like that it detracts from every single storyline you peons. Cuh.

PW2 News
On the way home I discovered that the prime time to play Phoenix Wright is whilst on a train or a Victoria Line tube to Walthamstow, after at least half a bottle of wine. I’m not sure if it’s because of these journeys being particularly conducive to gameplay, whether I’ve just coincidentally just got to a bunch of dialogue each time and am not really *doing* anything, whether wine increases my clever reasoning, or, most likely, whether being a teeny bit inebriated makes me as stupid as stupid Phoenix Wright. Edgeworth is still hot, despite my theory that makes him the super bad guy. Almost finished too.

~~~

Gig News
Feist is playing tonight. I wish I’d known about this earlier. Still, Herman Dune tomorrow!

~~~

Internet Sheep News
I’ve had a myspace for years (easily findable and obvious by the Dorothy Gale themed photo) and not really done anything with it apart from add random comedians from time to time. Is there really any point in me getting a facebook? What does it do?

Here is a quiz all about me, me, me. Have a go! See what you know!








* Extraneous detail I suppose, but it meant I looked like a grown up version of Neil something-or-other who was in my class at junior school. Not so extraneous now?
** More extraneous detail. A sandy beach. It looked Cornish…
*** Rather late and very drunk!
**** Dammnit B, you were obviously right. April Whitby started in 1997, Bowlie / ATP started in 1999, I think my first was 2000. Ah well, still *my* heart lies with post-rock first!
***** And one for luck – BLEAK!