|
|
| |
|
|
| |
This is where you stick random tidbits of information about yourself.
Age 23, living in sin in Twickenham with Cheesy
Likes
Movies
Books
Writing
Theatre
Hugs
Kittens
Chess
Scrabble (mostly beating Cheesy's butt)
Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Dislikes
Vegetables
Arguments
Cleaning
Trashy TV
Pretensions
Public Transport
Pets
Rabbits-Bambi, Fern, Sooty, Pippa-all deceased
Dog-Sammy-deceased :(
Fish-CatFlap-recently (and finally!) deceased
Cat-Tiggy-still scratching
|
|
|
|
Technically Rachel
|
|
| |
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Lurverly weekend fun. Sleepover at Tall Boys - the boy is impossibly hospitable, which was lovely, but had me leaving Manchester full of way to much food! He is the hostess with the mostess. A pleasure to see the Mishka and the Red Head after such a long time. It's weird how you can go so long without seeing some people, but it's still really cool when you meet up. Managed to go to my favouritest bar ever - Po Na Na. This place is beyond brilliant, and evokes many cool memories. One of which was saucily dancing with the then very-unavailable-Babol, which was a joyous night and a notch on my shameful-scarlett-woman-behaviour. Still, all worked out well in then end. The other significant memory was consuming something around 10-12 flatliners (a deliciously nasty shot concoction of sambucca, tobasco sauce and tequile-yummy), and spending a small portion of the evening sat on the toilet floor, as in my opinion, it was "nice and cooooooooool".
Now I have a new memory - squashing something like 20 people into one booth for photos. This resulted from a lovely meeting with Benjita's Birthday crowd. As seen below (no, I'm not telling you which one's me):
Old world, mixed with new - I always like that.
Anyway, the fools went on to Funkademia, and we went to Poptastic. Wooo! Where Tall Boy finally joined us - that boy and his make-up! Danced away with him and the KitchenTable, but alas, we are aging girls, and our stamina wained rather earlier than normal. We possibly peaked a little early at the Po Na Na I fear. Morning was bleary fun, quick meeting with Momo and Popo - though we had a disaster on the way to the station in that Yappa Dog left her make-up behind - she missed her train to go back and get it, so for all I know she's still on a train back to Cambridge! And she also states that her blog maybe not be a dead puppy after all, so we await her return with hand-rubbing glee.
Viva la weekend!
8:46 am
Friday, March 26, 2004
I'm away oop north this weekend, so no posts for a bit. Meeting up with old uni chums who i've spent far too much time away from. Should be a spanking good time.
And I had my last day at work yesterday - no more Bridget Jones for me. It's a bit weird, this freelance malarky. I feel a bit melancholy and lost over the matter - probably to do with the fact I am now unemployed. Hmm.
Anyway, my plan is to enjoy my time off and make the best use of it possible.
Anyone in Manchester this Saturday - drop by Po Na Na for Flatliners!
9:26 am
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
Well, since Topsy has told me she's hung up her blogging shoes, I've had the painful task of removing her. A tragic loss to us all. Good news is, Cheeky Minx is back, and hopefully for good this time, not just till he gets bored of it - we shall watch you closely sir!
9:17 am
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
The answer is Linda Cardellini.
She plays that new single mum chick in ER
and Velma in Scooby Doo.
And no, Steve, she's not 10.
11:20 am
Friday, March 19, 2004
Okay. I imagine there are very few people out there who are fans and viewers of both the tv series ER, and the recent movie version of Scooby Doo. I personally, love both. I expect to get slated for the latter, but I care not! I loved the cartoon when I was a kid, and watching the movie was just like watching the cartoon, except I was even more entranced by Matthew Lillard's brilliant Shaggy. No, it's hardly a contemplative, thought provoking movie. It's just simple fun. Much like my love for the films Josie & The Pussycats and Zoolander. Take either these films seriously, they're rubbish. But if you just want to have fun watching a movie, these are the ones I put on.
But anyway.... my point.
ER and Scooby Doo - who has spotted the common factor with these two? I only just realised it yesterday, and it stunned me.
I await your responses.
11:16 am
Thursday, March 18, 2004
Being female really suck sometimes.
That's all I have to say on the matter.
5:38 pm
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
The spider still hasn't reappeared. I think it's saving itself for a spectacular scare where I find it's crawled inside my bag or something. It's just waiting for me to let my guard down, I know it.
I keep spacing out today - it's a bit weird and unuseful since I don't actually think about anything. Like my brain is switching off. Maybe I'm just tired. Or slowly going brain dead.
I didn't realise I was in a pessimistic mood until right now. Huh.
11:49 am
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
I am normally of the opinion that inanimate objects do not the happy person make. Sure - things are nice, and pretty and exciting, but true happiness cannot be derived from a TV, or a computer or a particularly nice blender (you know who you are). However, there is one object that has proved to be an exception (and no, this isn't where this post gets pervy - sorry, Nick).
You see, when I was about 12/13 years old, I joined the school choir - this was a social thing, rather than a talent thing (can you see the exciting social whirl that was high school for me?). In fact, mostly, when it comes to singing, I pretty much suck. Babol will vouch for that even today. There came a time in our school choir days where the music teacher decided rejection would be good for some of us, and auditioned for a certain 'gig' (I'm at a loss for a better word). I was rejected while my core group of friends (okay, make that friend) made it. Cue much silent weeping and feelings of rejection and inadequacy at home. Momo, being a doting and lovely Momo, immediately sorted out singing lessons with my sister's old singing teacher (Fat Ass kicks even fatter ass when it comes to singing, but unfortunately suffers from stage fright - supreme shamo). So, of I went to singing lessons.
I was never a musical child. I struggled through guitar and recorder lessons in primary school, and though I still have a guitar I cannot play it with any real musical justification. So, there was only so far my lessons could take me. To give my teacher credit, for a good number of years I sang beautifully in tune. My singing voice was hardly impressive, but it was at least listenable to. I even had a solo in a musical (no, NONE of you are permitted to see the tape).
The point? When I got to my singing ceiling, my teacher was frank that I couldn't go any further. But she had a suggestion. Would I like to try learn the piano? Such an instrument would keep me with good tune. A little late, I thought, to start learning an instrument like that, but what the heck.
And I took to it. It was like the piano was always meant for me. Sped through Grades 1-3 in just over a year. Was soon playing like I'd been learning since I was 7 or something. I hit a learning peak from GCSEs to A Levels, mainly out of a desire to continue enjoying myself (you get to a certain stage with teachers, and it becomes more of a chore than a pleasure. I stopped lessons and taught myself new pieces. Although I kept up with some classics, my favourites were the piano music of Ben Folds Five (and yes, Tori Amos). I had my piano through University, where it was also introduced to piano lovers Tall Boy, Yappa Dog and Mishka. Twas always out of tune, but lurverly.
Then I moved to London. And into flats. Flats with certainly no room for a piano. Spent 2 years selfishly pleading with parentals not to sell beloved piano, and so far it still sits at home (why wouldn't someone want a piano in their house?). But pointedly, it wasn't with me.
Nearly three years without a piano. When I went home at Xmas I sat at my old piano in near tears at my crappy inability to even do scales sufficiently, yet alone be able to play Evaporated by Ben Folds.
Something had to be done. I got pass the snobbery I have about digital pianos, and realised they were the only way forward. They nearly almost sound like a real piano, and the keys have enough pressure to keep the feel. So, I started getting into looking for one to rent. This lead to serious depression, as most were at least £40 a month, and any that were less either had no insurance, or were (to be frank) shit.
Then on offchance, last Sunday morning I checked Loot. Digital piano. £350. This may sound like a lot, but digital pianos are worth around £1000. And this is the equivalent of 8 months rent, for something I'd be likely to rent over a year and probably never quite own. And it was in Hounslow (which by the by, is right near where I live). I went over there, saw it, and bought it right there. Cause it's beautiful. I drove home with it precariously packed into my car with the biggest grin I've had since I got my My Little Pony Dance Bonnet when I was 6. The afternoon was spent with me bouncing off the walls waiting for Babol to come home and help me take it from the car.
It's perfect, and lovely and though it isn't my old piano, it is certainly the next best thing. I have keys beneath my fingers again, and we have a lot of catching up to do. My music books are finally getting the dust off.
Perhaps some would argue that a musical instrument isn't an inanimate object. I can't say. In the end, it's plastic and wires. But it feels like a friend (yes, I was a lonely child), and maybe that's a musical psychosis, or just comfort from something inanimate. Either way, I like it.
And I've noticed I've used loads of brackets today (what's that about?)
9:51 am
Monday, March 15, 2004
According to reliable sources (i.e. myself) there is a big mamma spider hiding under my desk.
I'm not happy about this.
I do not relish opening a folder and finding mr short, hairy and scary sat in it.
11:22 am
Thursday, March 11, 2004
Oh crap - unemployment still looming in the fast approaching distance. Still, I wanted a holiday. Shame I can't afford to go anywhere. Grump.
Am muchly looking forward to the 27th which sees me reunite with a whole bunch of old Uni chums for the first time in ages - something tells me i'll be breaking out my dolly shoes and micro skirt and heading out to Poptastic for its crazy mix of indie and bubble pop music. I miss Manchester something rotten. Maybe something drastic must be done - just don't ask me what. At the moment I don't have the time, and when I will I won't have the money to think about it.
Auditions for Technically Speaking Mk II have been fixed for 3rd April which is exciting stuff but still rather weird - still having venue troubles, but MrBenj has offered some help from Low Fat which will be very nice. Bronny still gets all stressed by the bureaucrats at the theatre - perhaps she needs to take up smoking.
And I'm depressed about something which I don't know if I should be depressed about. In his first few days at the RC, Cheesy saw the CV of someone who claimed to have been accepted onto this year's Core Writers Group at Soho Theatre - you know, the thing I'm supposed to be considered for. This could mean any of the following:
Soho Theatre have made their selections for this year's course, and have decided not to even bother telling me I didn't get on it. Therefore, super depressed.
Soho Theatre have confirmed to some people, but are still considering the others like me. This still makes me a little depressed cause of course I want to be one of the first people they just have to have on the course - you can't be a writer without being arrogant and silmultaneously insecure.
Or
Soho Theatre hasn't made any selections at all and the person in question is a lying little scumbag who's still just being considered like me and wants his CV to look swish. I like this theory best.
A weird mix of pride and dread is so far restraining me from writing to the director guy to find out what's going on.
Wasn't everything so much simpler when you were 7
11:52 am
Monday, March 08, 2004
Post-Birthday Blues
Alas, alack I am 24. Boo.
I understand 24 isn't that old. But it is that age at which you have to remove your vice-like grip on 21, and accept that you are no longer a student, but a bit of a grownup really.
So, to grownup things. The film industry still sucks thus far, and unemployment indeed looms. Still, may as well treat it as a holiday, right?
My weekend back oop north was indeed needed and most lovely as expected. Lots of quality time with Momo and Popo. Popo taught me everything I know about aggrevating - turns out he much doesn't like being aggrevated himself - go figure. My little Granny is looking lots better, which I guess means the hospital are actually giving her her drugs for a sodding change. I'm not a fan of hospitals, but I guess not for the obvious reasons - being in hospital when I was a kid always seemed weirdly cool. Against the norm, i suppose. But there is one thing I hate above everything in hospitals, and that's the people in a bed with no visitors. I tend to be mostly self-involved as far as other people's problems go - in my experience if you spend all your time worrying about the plight of others, you're going to live a pretty anguished life. This doesn't mean I isolate myself from the problems of my friends, quite the opposite. But if I don't know someone, mithering about their troubles isn't going to help me or them. But the other night I couldn't help it. 8 beds in my Gran's ward - 6 of them were surrounded by people for the visiting hours - two of them had no one. Just two frail old ladies, trying not to look interested. Part of me just wanted to go over there and chat with them, but general fear of strangers keeps you back. Still, I left the hospital with a heavy heart and mostly a big ol' cloud of depression over my head. Perhaps it's to do with my ultimate fear of being alone - but I suppose that's everyone's fear really, isn't it?
Anyway, way too maudlin. The point of the whole business was that Granny was doing very well. She has a very impressive scar down her knee - and I might add, very impressive legs for someone her age - is it wrong to think your Gran's legs look good? Here come's therapy.
Saw my other Granny and Grandpa too - from my Dad's side. They are the most amusing since they spend most the time arguing with eachother in that stereotypical northen grumpy old couple kind of way. You know, where Granny does what she's told just to "bloody shut him up". Most amusing.
The cat, Tiggy, was most ameanable all weekend, which is rare considering she prefers to sulk at me whenever I come home in a "how dare you leave this house and my precious company!" kind of way. But this time she seemed pleased to see me and allowed me to give her some cuddles. Either she's finally forgiven me for moving out, or she's so old now she's forgotten why she was mad at me in the first place.
And Lotus Garden in Eccleston serves the best Chinese TakeAway in England! It's true - go try it.
3:35 pm
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Okay, this is long overdue. Today I add to my links the blogs Kitchentable and Porny Curtis. I've been reading these guys for quite some time, but have wimped out from putting them up - mainly cause these guys are extremely humorous to an almost professional peak, and I have generally felt my lame-ass site unworthy to link to them. However, I have been reminded that the reason of blogs is to share and scare, so I shouldn't keep these guys to myself - therefore read with pleasure, for they are most amusing boys. I don't know Mr Curtis at all, so hopefully he won't find this link and splutter expletives at my Buffy cartoon.
Mr Kitchentable I do know from my Manchester days, whence he was my boss (in a non-boss kind of way). I remember thinking I must have totally misjudged his age at one point when he told me I reminded him of his eldest daughter - thinking of course her to be in at least her teens. Alas she was probably about 5 or something - tells you a little something about me, hmmm. Also explains why flirting with Mr Stu was therefore pretty difficult in my experience - not impossible mind you, just difficult ;)
Anyway, enjoy them - I do.
1:51 pm
My, there's some serious blog apathy around lately - including myself. Do you think February is just a very dull month, or is it the dragging winter that sets in us a type of blog-hybernation. Who knows? But blog, people blog! Blogger to the people, and other suchs.
Tulip Fever is still looking pretty dead in the water, but I'm holding on to some hope on that one. With only 2 and a half weeks of employment remaining, and a currently unemployed fella, I am trying not to let any form of panic creep in. Instead I plan social events. Much better. Am heading home this weekend for my birthday nuptials. Momo and Popo were supposed to be coming to London this weekend, but my Gran-Momo is still pretty ill in hospital, so I'm going up there instead. It's good - means I get to go give my tough cookie gran a big hug - this woman has a blood clot from her knee to her ankle, and she's still kicking (metaphorically of course).
Anyone interested in the Adventure of Fat Ass Down Under - my big sis embarked on her Oz break the other week, got food poisoning from the plane, and then went out on "a rainy cloudy day with no bloody sun in sight" and got sunburned. She hasn't quite grasped the Oz sun yet. A whirlwind of trauma.
Interestingly, she might be getting a job in a chocolate shop - methinks the ass will be due to get fatter.
The Oscars were docile fun - nothing hugely exciting. I do love it when Billy Crystal presents it though. He was a very purty Legolas - hehe
Lord of The Rings predictably sweeped the board - I think this is entirely because the whole trilogy has been considered rather than just Return of the King, but deserved none the less. Displeased to see over-actor extreme Sean Penn win-I would have much preferred any of the other contenders for Best Actor.
And Belleville Rendezvous was robbed - twice! And Big Fish was denied so many deserving nominations I can barely believe it. Tsk.
And Naomi Watts had the prettiest dress.
9:45 am
|
|
| |
|
|
|
