Echoes
Current mood: sad
Category: Music

I've just watched "Joy Division" and it's made me a bit sad.  It must be horrible to have been a part of something great, to have it ended suddenly, and then forever after, to find it hard to play those songs any more.  Sigh. 

This blog really is apalling at summing up how I feel about stuff.

On an entirely different note, today I saw a man on the tube wearing "Sunday" socks.  It's Tuesday.

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Gravy
Current mood: bouncy
Category: Life

The hubster and I have been all organised about Valentine's and Anniversaries.  We get control over one event each every year, and this gets rid of all the palaver of possible same day bookings, worries about how much to spend, blah blah blah.  This year I got Valentines, and lucky old Dan is having to wait until December to cash in on the gift, which was tickets to see Edward Scissorhands at Sadler's Wells.

Lucky for me I didn't have to wait nearly as long for my anniversary prezzie.  Dan took me on a mystery jaunt of London's tubes before arriving at the top of Blackfriar's Bridge, blinking like little mice at the daylight.  I could see the Tate to the left, and the Oxo Tower to the right... Was I being taken to either of these glamorous lovely places, or somewhere entirely different?

The Oxo Tower had it.  Hoorah!  I've never been there before, but have heard very positive things.  I thought it was lovely.  The service was impeccable, the view was impressive, and the food was pretty good too.  Dan supplied his own company, so it was, of course, faultless.  I can't promise that the other person / people at your table will be anywhere near as great, unless you find Dan online and invite him yourself.

The nicest thing was the pud'.  I didn't have one, but Dan ordered the Chocolate Plate, which arrived not only with four little chocolate desserts, but a lovely "Happy Anniversary" scrawled in chocolate sauce on the plate... This was wonderfully un-necessarily and spontaneously sweet, and has bigged The Oxo up to a rave five stars.  Out of five.

Then we went on to a little strange Blackfriars located pub, which may have been a converted chapel / church / crypt.  Standard booze, but a cosy and interesting room.  And then we went home.  We had to, eventually.

We've been married for three years now, by the way.  Wow.

Currently playing : Mario Kart Wii with Wii Wheel Release date: 2008-04-27

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Ha.
Current mood: cheerful
Category: Life

Well we corked up big style on The Dresden Dolls gig, since it was no such thing, just a misunderstanding about stuff on their website.  So we had bought tickets to see just Brian from TDD play the drums with some other band we'd never heard of.  This wasn't what we were expecting, but some cider (me) and Newquay Brown (Dan) sorted out our moments of confusion and we decided to stick around see what was what.  Only we didn't.  Because they were playing the most God-awful freaking stinking poxy music over the sound system.  No bands, you understand, just random music that someone, apallingly, must have chosen to subject us to.  Oh, it was awful, the kind of music you'll hear in a lift in Hell.  We couldn't bear it, and so scarpered before even the first band could take the stage.  We ended up in The Dev, as per, and drank booze in there instead.  It was still a very nice evening...

Here's a snippet of Mr. Nathan Fillion's blog, which I liked very much:

I was driving down Ventura Blvd. The air was warm, but if I kept the windows open I could stay cool without using AC. Just another way to try to save on gas until I buy the upcoming Venture Vehicle (check flytheroad.com). My stereo was loud, but not blaring. I was singing along to Jason Mraz when a light stopped me for some pedestrians crossing the street. I abruptly stopped singing when I saw that the giant black dude coming from his gym caught me singing in my car alone. He stood in the intersection and said, "Oh, NO. Don't you stop for ANYONE. Let it out!" And he was right. I said, "You're right." Not only did it continue singing, but he joined me, and loud. It is moments like these that restore my faith in humanity. Thank you, intimidatingly huge black dude. Thank you for reminding me that the world is mine to enjoy, everyday.

I also liked Amanda Palmer's blog today too... She's a lucky lass, imagine getting to just hang out with Neil Gaiman, and to be so relaxed about it that you actually enjoy it, instead of spending it feeling alarmed, thrilled, anxious, blessed and terrified that you were about to cock it up beyond all recognition.

Today I Hate

Lists about stuff that I hate

Today I Love

Diana Wynne Jones (I always do...)
Chocolate cake
Mike and Nina (Yep.  I always do...)
PowerPoint

Currently reading : The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, Volume 1: Charmed Life / The Lives of Christopher Chant By Diana Wynne Jones Release date: 2007-04-10

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Sub
Current mood: okay
Category: Life

Some people just like making life difficult for themselves. 

I'm not going to qualify that statement, since I think it's pretty damn irrefutable.

I am eating fruit and getting annoyed with the idiots again.  Never mind, I'm off to see The Dresden Dolls with the hubster tonight.  I'm sure that Ms Amanda Palmer and some cider and some affection from Mr R will do wonders for my mood.  I expect to be scamperng about like a happy bunny in a meadow full of good stuff before long.

Currently listening : No, Virginia... By The Dresden Dolls Release date: 2008-05-20

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Dearth
Current mood: chipper
Category: Life

I am considering deleting the last two posts.  They are annoying me today, mostly because they are filled with banal little ideas that aren't very well put and don't say anything new and really oh really what is the point otherwise?  That's what everyone else (crass generalisation) does on their blog.  They slather big swathes of meaningful gunk all over the internet and then sit around feeling smug about how profound they've been online today.  Gah.  Hate it, hate that sort of "I'm secretly brilliant, I say the things your thinking but can't work out how to put into words" vibration you get from every entry.  It does me nut somewhat, as you may be able to tell from the diatribe that this is.

I much prefer the aimless pootling, the diary style meanderings of people just doing stuff and finding something anecdotally whingy, amusing or interesting to share with you while they do it.  That stuff's all good, and it's probably what I should focus on.  I haven't even quite mastered that yet, let alone the philosophical realms of grief and a sixth sense.

So - as to that...

This week I have been bobbing about in a pool of writing and music.  It's been quite nice, although occasionally a sharp biro poked me in the back and remarked that for someone with an impending deadline I really wasn't thinking about my plot very much.  The biro was right - curse those acerbic and insightful disposable pens.

On Tuesday we went to The Dome to see Mantango do their thing in the semi-finals of the Surface Unsigned competition.  They were preceeded by two acts, the first of which was some slightly whingy bunch who sounded like they wanted to be a cross between Sigur Ros and Muse.  Huh, if I squint and tip my head to the side maybe they could be Rigor Mortis, which  is not necessarily genius wordplay, but is pretty accurate of the impression they left on me, musically speaking.
The second act was the Fabulous Fez's, who are using the word "Fabulous" in an ironic fashion, cos they really weren't that great at all, unless you like watching middle-aged men bounce around in (surprise!) fez's and bedsheet dresses.  They rolled on a cannon, and I don't know what happened other than it made a loud POP and then they finally stopped playing.
Then Mantango hit the stage and did their thing.  The songs were recognisable as songs, the band all played in time together (see how low my requirements had sunk by this point), the lead singer could actually sing, and they played the sort of thing I can imagine gracing the background of numerous movies and TV shows.  They've got a sort of Coldplay-esque thing going on, which I was perfectly happy about.  Musically they were without doubt the most gifted of the bunch we'd heard that evening... It's a shame that the previous two bands hadn't been better - perhaps stiffer competition would have really let them shine.  Anything shines next to a turd, is my point, which is generally unfair on sparkly things.

We had to leave before the results were called in and I still have no idea how they did.... Winning is determined by a show of hands and people texting in.  I stuck both hands up and texted - maybe I swung the vote, who knows?

Wednesday night I stuck myself in my room and resolutely wrote stuff until about midnight.  Then I poked my head out of the door, thinking Dan had been watching TV and playing with iTunes, and instead he had painted the spare room! It was lovely, like waking up to find elves had been industriously doing nice things for me around the flat.  Bless Dan, if only he let me get my way all the time he would be pretty much the most perfect husband in the world.

Yesterday evening Dan and I went to see The Faces of Sarah play a warm up gig in Walthamstow.  Lovely, for once we get to go to a gig that's all of ten minutes from our home!  Hoorah!
Well, ten minutes if the bus ever comes.  And then doesn't break down.  And you don't have to walk all the way down Billet Road.

Dan was fretting that we'd be late and that the venue would be over-run with goths and they'd be full when we got there.  He needn't have worried.  There were all of twenty people in The Standard when we arrived, and numbers only went up when TFOS arrived and brought some extra bodies in with them.
The Maharajas were the first act on.  It was quite an odd experience - I didn't hate them.  In fact I really quite liked their enthusiasm in the face of an audience resolutely ignoring them, bar their sister who knew all the words, and her boyfriend, who was videoing the gig.  They played a backing track which was a seemingly endless parade of samey sounding rock of a thin and obvious variety.  The two Maharajas then proceeded to rap over the top of it.  It was faintly Sultans of Ping, faintly Carter.  Eighteen years ago (approximately - I have no sense of time really) they'd have been hot stuff.  Last night they looked like a couple of blokes who'd spent so long mucking about writing this stuff in their bedrooms, that NOT to try some live gigs would just label the whole affair as a juvenil and slightly embarassing phase.  They invested in it, which I think is admirable.  I think if they can ace their lyrics (they should check out Scroobius Pip) and make the backing more interesting, they might do alright.  Poetry gigs might be the best way forward...
My favourite bit was lyrics along the lines of "I got the funk, I got the moves" and then AWFUL dancing.  I grinned a lot into my fruity cider.
They should also not bring their Mum to their gigs.  She sat at the back of the venue looking haggard and tired and not once did she beam with pride... Poor lady, hopefully she was distracted by something else, and wasn't miserable due to the musical enthusiasm of the boys...
Also (again?) I think they need a new name.  Not least because a band called The Maharajas already exists and stuff.  I only know this cos I just googled it...

No Half Measures were next... Yawn.  They actually played instruments, and were alright musically, but I was turned off by the use of the word "society" in the second line of the first verse of their first song.  I am a word person, and the use of it had all sorts of political conotations too early on.  I don't like being preached at in song form.  The thing is I don't think they're a particularly preachy band, so maybe just some set-list reordering is called for.  The song I hated most was one called Arrogant Nick, which is apparently about someone they don't like.  I don't like easy rhyming, and they were about as un-inventive as they could have been... Oh, and there was another one that only appeared to have one line sung over and over again.  I wasn't crazy about that either.  They at least brough some more people though.  Their mums and dads and girlfriends and whatnot littered the floor.  Always nice to see middle-aged people in suits hugging their handbags and having a bop in a dive like The Standard.  The juxtaposition thrills me.  It did make me retrospecitvely glad that Alex never really enouraged Mum and Dad to go to any of his gigs though.  It's nice that the band aren't embarrassed to have them there, but it does nothing for your kudos rating with complete strangers, who assume that you must have little to no real pulling power as an act.  No Half Measures and The Mahrajas both have a decent number of friends on their MySpace pages... You'd think they'd get some more people there.  Twenty is really quite feeble, even if it is a Thursday night in the back end of East London.
And now a catty comment: They also should change their name.  To Puppy Fat.  Aw bless...

They finished up and finally, FINALLY, The Faces of Sarah came on.  They had been amusing themselves during the previous sets by taking photos of mirrors reflecting mirrors infinitely, and each other's tattoos.  
There were even less people around by this point, as The Maharajas and their small entourage had flitted away, and some of No Half Measures crowd started to drift out too.  I don't think TFOS were too phased by this, as it was just a warm-up gig for the 8000 fans they'd be facing in Solvakia some time soon.  So they did a mini-gig just for the (twelve? Ish?) of us, and it was lovely.  I wonderd how they'd feel about so few people being there, but it was like it was irrelevant.  They just played really really well, and I felt quite thrilled to be included, like I was part of an elite little set who'd been invited to an intimate gig.  I hadn't.  It was open to the public - anyone could have come.  You could have.  You probably should have, it was wicked. 
But it was only a warm-up show, and therefore over far too quickly.  Dan and I had neared the stage, bobbed up and down appreciatively, and grinned at the chap in the USA bandana who danced alone and sang along.  I think the three of us were the only people who'd come to see them that were genuine fans and not a) friends of the band or b) hanging around with one of the support acts or c) working there.

Dan and I pootled home, walking half way and hopping on a (shock!) fully functioning 158 to take us the rest of the way home.  Then to bed, to read more Sue Grafton (I'm up to F.  It's for Fugitive), and finally to sleep.

And now it's Friday, which is good.

Today I Hate

Not much.  Feeling pretty good about life.

Today I Love

A lack of hayfever
Thankyou cards
The ability to resist vending machines

On an aside... I just saw the girl in the office who takes a book into the loos with her.  At work.  I'm all for reading on the bog if you have the time, but if you're going to do it at work at least pop it in your handbag... How unprofessional.

Currently listening : Lament Release date: 2006-11-21

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Physick
Current mood: pirate
Category: MySpace

So when I moved into the Condo I painted the outside with some rather stern words regarding psychics.  I've since had a bit of a think, and have made something of a retraction.  Out came the durable all-weather based paint, in went the roller, and "smack" it went against the wall, scrubbing out any evidence that I'd ever been angry about psychics. 

The thing is I am angry at psychics - but only the rubbish ones who are out there to rip people off.  I'm lucky enough to actually know someone with some actual ability, and I know that she's an honest and lovely person who will only tell her punters what she sees if she sees it.

When I plastered my condo with my cynical words writ large I did so because of a spate of idiots.  These idiots had all been to see people who were plainly merchants of the rip-off variety.  I was angry at the idiots, and angry at the ripper-offers.  I don't like the way people are sucked in by the fakes, but I think also that it's hard to know who those people are... The signs, I think, are only obvious to those who don't need a message right now.  If you need a message I think you'll probably take what you can get, whether it be truthful or not.

Sigh.

Gosh, I've had a couple of almost deep and meaningless blogs here... I shall have to snap out of it and go back to writing gibberish.  It's easier on the big black space at the back of my head for a start.  The creepy thing that lurks back there doesn't like it when I go about shining lights into it's shadowy realm. 

Shadowy realm?

Oh no that won't do at all.

Darkened sphere?

Hallowed bleakness?

Um.  Dusty black corners.

That'll do.

Right, off to give the hubby the attention he appears to be craving.  Can't think of any other explanation for the sudden fit of the fidgets and strange groans coming from his end of the living room.

Today I hate

Doubt
Compromise
Chewing gum that has lost its flavour

Today I love

You-tube
Black coffee
My dressing gown

Currently listening : Moon Safari By Air Release date: 1998-01-27

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Paths
Current mood: thoughtful
Category: Life

Gosh but grief is a funny thing... I think I've sort of come to terms with the impendingness of it, in a "I'm prepared to not be prepared" kind of a way.  I'm viewing it as a big tidal wave - eventually it's going to come smacking down on me, leaving nothing behind but pain and wreckage, followed by a patch of desolation and feeling daunted by what's gone, followed by the slow realisation that this will all get built again, and it won't be the same, but it might be okay.  It might, at least, be bearable.
The pain bit is the rough section.  That's the bit where you need your friends and family to be at their most patient and their most understanding.  Which is what has prompted me to blog this...

Basically I know someone who has a twin, and they're pretty close - not quite in each other's pockets, but there's at least one phone-call a day and who knows how many emails and texts.  The twin I don't know so well has just lost a close friend and is going through the mill a bit.  And the twin that I know much better is spending a great deal of her time huffing and puffing about her sister's dramatic sobbing and saying "Well I didn't really know him...".  And I don't get it.  I don't understand the way she's distancing herself from her twin sister's grief, appearing to be more put-out than sympathetic, and basically proving to be a big blonde empathic void.  I have a twin brother.  If he lost one of his closest friends I'd be in bits for him and, most importantly, I'd be there for him.  I'm utterly confused (and a little bit appalled and scared) at HOW much she doesn't seem to give a shit.  It's weird.  How well you know the dear departed is irrelevant in the face of a loved one or friend's heartbreak.  Her attitude is sort of messing with my head.

Actually, her attitude to most things messes with my head, so I don't see why this should be any different...

In other news...

Went to The Intrepid Fox on Friday, which was pretty good.  My bladder performed marvellous well, making it through a whole pint and a half before forcing me from my stool!

Did very little of the planned decorating over the weekend, and also didn't make it to the gym as we'd vowed to do, so no change on the lack of willpower front.

Today I hate

Unreasonable expectations
My right thumbnail
My lack of willpower

Today I like

Mars bars
Mumbai Masala
Remembering to do stuff I thought I'd forget

Currently reading : C Is for Corpse By Sue Crafton

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Eep
Current mood: eccentric
Category: MySpace

It's been a ridiculous long time since I was here... I apologise, my heart sends out streamers of blue emotional ribbon that tug forlornly at your wrists and vibe a whole "I'm so sorry, please come back..." type feeling up your arms and smack into your brain.  You look down at them with disgust and ask what kind of rotten description of a guilty thought process is this?  and dismiss them with a wave of your hand.

Quite right, that's what I say.  Anyone that needy deserves a small slap in the face and a pint of something brown, tangy and putridly alcoholic.

So, how are you?  What have you been up to?

I've been doing all sorts, which would explain my lengthy absence.  Nothing seems to have changed round here though, which is nice.  I shall wipe the dust off the furniture, snap open the blinds, settle down in front of the long sandy beach and the beautiful sunset, and try and remember what I've been doing with my life away from the condo...

Oh yes, that's right.  I went to your actual beach.  It wasn't quite as temperate as this virtual one, but it will do.  It was located in Swanage, which is a place a surprising number of people Dan works with are from (sentence structure?), and a place a surprising number of people I work with have never heard of.  This is presumably because anyone who ever left Swanage went immediately to Covent Garden and begged to be employed by his firm.  The fools.

Swanage is nice, this year Dan actually had some GOOD experiences in the local restaurants, so that was an improvement on last year, when everything he ordered was bad.  We also took a wee drive (an hour and 40 minutes each way) to Stone'enge to look at a big henge made of some stones.  I bought a necklace and have no idea what the symbol on it means, which will drench me in shame the next time I wear it and someone more knowledgeable than me utters something arcane and obscure about it.  That'll be lots of fun.

This week we went to see Daniel Kitson do a spot of "work in progress" in front of 40ish people who seemed perfectly charming, and four cretins.  They were so cretinous that he actually asked them to leave, and then, as if they couldn't be any more obnoxious and annoying, they stayed right where they were and ate bits of his birthday cake.  The cheek of it.
They failed to ruin the whole of the experience though, and it was, for the most part, very lovely and witty and poetic and quite quite smile-inducing.  I will be off to check out the full-blown end result but I might not take the hubster with me, as I'm not sure Mr Kitson is his cup of tea.  That's alright.  We don't have to like everything the same... but I might lament for a moment that I seem to like a lot more things in his direction than he likes in mine.  Is this because I have broader tastes, or that his have been through some sort of purification system and refined?  Only the psychologists can know, and they all talk parp.

What else?  There were desk moves at work.  One of the moves has led a swarm of Russian bees to sit just behind me, humming relentlessly.  Thing about bees - they don't hum any tunes.  Neither does the Russian swarm, which instead produces twenty-minute sessions of "Mmm-hmm" with a variety of inflections and tones.  I am planning on buying some bug spray and doing her in, even though I really quite like her when she's not on the phone.  Humming.  Incessantly.

People had birthdays and got older.  I got asked if I was pregnant because I was "glowing".  It's the new batteries.  I light up all sorts of dingy places.

Tonight Dan and I are off to the Intrepid Fox, where I plan to drink cider and visit the loo a lot.  I have to do both - you can't accomplish one without the other in my experience.

Currently listening : Neptune By The Duke Spirit Release date: 2008-04-08

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Flick
Current mood: hungry
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

I realised, after a brief glance at the ghosts of bloggage past, that I never did fill you in on Made of Honour.  Well, consider today your lucky day!

Basically, it was like an inverted "My Best Friend's Wedding" only not as skillfully executed.
By the end of MBFW you like Julia Roberts' character quite a lot - or at least I did.  Who can't connect with that unrequited love business?  It's not something I'd do, but I admire her steely determination to win back a man she realises, too late, is the right one for her.  I also admire the way she admits how wrong she was, how badly she behaved, and how grateful she is for their forgiveness and enduring friendship by the end of the film.  That's all kicking in a character arcing way, and I appreciate it.
The ladies I saw Made of Honour with thought that, of the two, the Patrick Dempsey vehicle was the better one.  I say they're wrong, but I admit that I look for different things in a film to most people, as I have a nasty habit of (some might say over-) analysing things like plot, character development, and dialogue.
Made of Honour was okay.  I didn't find Patrick Dempsey, in the role of "chap who realises his best friend is the one only when he's about to lose her to some other chap", very likeable.  I know he can do likeable, because he's pretty great in "Enchanted".  So I'm going to put that one down to dialogue and some slightly clunky methods of moving things along.

I think the clincher is this... Made of Honour is a frothy rom-com because every girl likes to see a man go all out to win their love once he's realised that she's The One.  Bcause he's a man he does this in a rather obvious fashion, fails charmingly at every hurdle, and only manages to win her in the end by being a kick-ass snogger.
My Best Friend's Wedding is a slightly darker, but much more real take on the same premise.  There's an element of froth because there's spontaneous singing and an bit of farce.  But underneath that froth is a much stronger coffee, a tale where the girl doesn't get the guy, not matter how slapstick, maniuplative and endearing her efforts, and a realisation that sometimes if you're too late you are simply too damn late.  I think it's a braver film, because how many rom-coms can  you think of where the ending is just as satisfying as if she / he had got the guy / girl?  So you see, this isn't a film for people who only consider a "they all lived happily ever after" ending to be the best and only kind.

Oh - and the Scots accent thing... I'd heard a rumour that the fiance did a terrible accent.  This isn't the case, since Kevin McKidd is Scottish, and so does a perfect one.  I have to add though, that the Scottish over-the-top family was a bit full on, and misleading to stupid people who now think that Scottish is STILL full of Och Aye the Noo haggis eating caber tossers.

Currently watching : Enchanted (Widescreen Edition) Release date: 2008-03-18

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Say
Current mood: awake
Category: Life

My mum's new habit of saying "as they say" at the end of every sentence (regardless of whether it is something 'they' say or not) appears to be contagious.  I spoke to my brother last night who freely threw it in at the end of a sentence which, to my knowledge, is not something 'they' say that frequently.  Certainly it is not said often enough to deserve the appended "as they say".  He must have caught it off my mum and either it has a two week incubation period, since he's been in Cancun and out of contact, or you can get it over the phone.

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