The buildup to Christmas is a long one. Even at the start of December, I was celebrating Not-Christmas at a friend's house. I got a full stomach and a stocking full of chocolate to remember it by, not to mention a pretty severe crush.
After that, I went home for a couple of weeks, which was as it usually is, i.e., lovely with regards to seeing my family, and fairly horrendous in terms of staying in that house. I live in hope that one day my parents will see sense and chuck out 90% of their stuff.
I've felt very guilty about presents this year. The sad fact is, this year I don't have enough money to cover rent and bills, or even food for myself, so I can't treat everyone to the nice things they deserve. But, for some reason, people care enough to give me things, because it isn't really about reciprocity, so I'm told. They love me and want me to know that, so they give me gifts.
Oh man, let me tell you, this year for the first time I got a gift from someone I've never met! Someone in America! Paul, a guy I've known for probably a couple of years now, sent me the most epic, tricked-out, bells-and-whistles sonic screwdriver set I've ever seen. It's got me thinking about designing my own Doctor look to cosplay! Most people seem to go for a female interpretation of an existing Doctor's costume, but I'd want to start from scratch. My first instinct was to see if anyone from the Doctor Who costume department is on twitter, but no such luck.
This is going to be my first Christmas with friends. I've spent one away from home before, with my ex's family, but I've never dealt with the full mixed bag of celebrating Christmas with vegans, pagans, and people who've lost loved ones / are missing their kids, etc. But we're doing it. I'm a little bit proud of us for that. If we can get through it without drama, I'll be even more so.
I'll also be spending the day with my aforementioned crush (a poor word choice, but anything more accurate would give too much away, and it's early days yet). I wouldn't mention it unless I thought it was going to be important. Unless I thought he was going to be important. We'll see, I guess.
Anyway! I've wittered on long enough. I'll let you get back to all that important hall-decking. If I don't post again beforehand, have a very merry one indeed! See you soon for the traditional New Year navel-gazing.
Thursday, 22 December 2011
The buildup to Christmas is a long one. Even at the start of December, I was celebrating Not-Christmas at a friend's house. I got a full stomach and a stocking full of chocolate to remember it by, not to mention a pretty severe crush.
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
It's been a crazy ten days or so, running around performing nonsensical errands for GISHWHES. It's over, now; the deadline has passed, and it's time to start thinking about what we're going to do with the unusual side-effects of our quests.
What, for example, are we going to do with a golden plunger? Will I keep the monkey hat? Should we disassemble the kale chandelier, or just chuck it? Do you want some barely-used candyfloss?
We didn't even take it that far. Some dedicated team actually launched a Christmas tree aloft with only helium balloons, and made the news in a few places in the process!
|GISHWHES 2011 pride|
The past few days have consisted of me being alternately grumpy and sad, interspersed with brief moments of Baileys.
|Baileys makes everything better.|
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
"Why did nobody ever tell me blogging was this much fun?!" my housemate exclaimed, leading me to do a tiny wriggle of shame. He's recently discovered it, and is of course taking to it like a duck to water, or a bird to flying, or an excitable child to getting jam all over things.
And I feel bad about neglecting you, because I really have no excuse not to. It's been like that period after a breakup when you still want to text your ex every little thought that crosses your mind. I've still wanted to blog about things - I performed poetry, it went well! My hair is purple now! I've been to some very fun parties (and one that... was less fun)! I discovered an amazing book, and did you know we have a new office? - but there's been a veil of awkwardness not dissimilar to the stomach-lurch of "oh, we're not together any more."
I don't know why this is. I certainly haven't broken up with my blog. But I have... I have kind of been cheating on it. Tumblr, with its two-click reblogging and bitesized reaction posts, is so much less demanding. All I have to do is respond to stuff! I don't need to digest, assess and recontextualise information in an engaging and thought-provoking way. I'm not saying Tumblr can't be used for that - it certainly can! - but in my experience, one simply doesn't have to try that hard, and it's making me lazy. I'm going to make a conscious effort to come here instead, and put a bit more work into making my blog of 6 years (blimey) what it deserves to be.
This stuff would never fly in a relationship. "I swear, baby, I'll make a conscious effort to prioritise you over my mistress!"
"Oh will the fuck you?"
This week, much of my time is going into GISHWHES, an international scavenger hunt that's being arranged by Misha Collins. I am in two minds about him. He plays Castiel on Supernatural, calls his twitter follows 'minions,' and has a face that I would like to put near or around my face. And yet. I will never, ever call him Overlord, as some of his fans do. Mostly I want to usurp his crown.
|Misha Collins: only human|
The prize for GISHWHES is that Misha takes your group of ten worldwide scavenger hunters out for a spaghetti dinner in Rome. That's... well, I mean that's pretty cool. Once the deadline's passed and I can share them without breaking the rules, I'll upload a couple of the photos I took in pursuit of this prize.
I'm looking forward to having a bit of time off so I can make things. I want to write poetry, maybe get back into songwriting (my voice is finally 85% returned after a nasty cough), and basically begin to challenge myself creatively again. I've come up with a tentative, unformed plan to leave Cardiff in favour of America at some point, too. I've never had ambition before, so I'm not really sure what to do with it!
Here is a song from Jukebox the Ghost, because I like the video.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
The following movie reviews are not what you might call professional, because sometimes I don't pay attention.
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy:
I really wanted to like this film. It's got Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, and Benedict Cumberbatch. What's not to like about that? It screams class and distinction, and I'm a cultured person who goes to the opera and everything, so I should like it, right?
It was very slow-paced, and the stiff upper lip mannerisms displayed by the main characters, while very in keeping with that time and world, serve to make the first half of the film drag severely. It's hard to engage emotionally when everyone on screen is doing their damnedest to act like feelings are for the little ladies. The saving grace of the first half was, in my opinion, a thoroughly enjoyable scene with Kathy Burke. I'd never seen her in a non-comedic role before, and was delighted and not a bit unnerved by her personable and slightly predatory character!
It did pick up towards the end, with Colin Firth getting to show off a bit more of his emotional range, but by the time the film finished I was left a bit unclear about what the whole endeavour had been for. My fault for going to the cinema while sleepy, I'm sure, but there it is.
I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed this film. Oh, I know, I expected it to be rubbish too! I've heard the jokes: it's the movie adaptation of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots, and so forth, but honestly I haven't grinned through so much of a film in a long, long time.
Charlie, played by Hugh Jackman, is believable and likeable while still being deeply flawed. His son, Max, played by the unbelievably talented Dakota Goyo, had me thinking "that kid is SO BOSS" throughout the entire thing. He was born in '99, can you believe that? Ugh what am I doing with my life. And, oh yes, Evangeline Lilly as Bailey. I've only seen Evie as Kate in Lost before now, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that Bailey is much less annoying. I'm being unfair... she was amazing in this. Really.
There were moments - very very brief, unmentioned moments - that asked big questions. One shot of a robot facing itself in a mirror, motionless, sparked off so many questions that were never touched on, but the film is all the better for it. This is shameless fluff, and addressing machine sentience is a little out of its grasp. Well done them for not overreaching. Don't make the mistake of interpreting that as an insult: the thing about feel good movies is that they make people feel good! I left the cinema with my heart barfing regenbogen and pleading for a sequel. There will be one. I am delighted.
Friday, 14 October 2011
I have a tumblr. This is causing problems.
This post contains creepiness, swearing, and excessive lusting; so if you don't want your illusions of me shattered, or want to read me fangirling hard over gorgeous manfaces, ↓↓↓ scroll down to the kitty buffer. ↓↓↓
Otherwise, glad to have you with us and I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. This is my catharsis, ok? I write one, long, freakily obsessive post about Supernatural and then I never mention it again because you deserve better than this.
It started off innocently enough. People shared pictures and stories and opinions on their tumblrs, and a lot of them like the same things I do! They like Doctor Who, and Buffy, and this show I hadn't seen called Supernatural. Eventually, knowing that a couple of my friends really liked it, I decided to give it a go.
This was simultaneously the best and worst decision I've made in a long time.
You see, I love it. The story, the characters, the actors... but Tumblr doesn't leave it at that, oh no. It nourishes obsessions. So after the more immediate pleasures in discovering a new show to enjoy, I started discovering a few of the more... niche... aspects of the 'fandom'.
I discovered the slash fic. And I like it. Some of it is very well written. And from there I discovered RPS, real-person slash, which is... contentious, is probably the word. I like that too. I would probably keep very quiet about the fact if I ever met any of the cast, but still, there it is.
I discovered the lurid past of Jensen Ackles, and some of his more questionable fashion choices.
You have to understand just how gorgeous these people are. The whole damn show is oestrogen bait; the conventions are the lady-heaviest nerdcons I've ever seen.
|Jeffrey Dean Morgan, aka John Winchester (and the Comedian from Watchmen!)|
|Matt Cohen (@mattcohen4real), aka young John Winchester (and others*)|
|Jensen Ackles, aka Dean Winchester|
|Jared Padalecki (@jarpad), aka Sam Winchester|
|Misha Collins (@mishacollins), aka Castiel (and others*)|
|No but seriously though, his face|
|Richard Speight Jr (@dicksp8jr), aka the Trickster (and others*)|
|Rob Benedict (@robbenedict), aka Chuck Shirley, aka Carver Edlund|
|Mark Pellegrino, aka Lucifer|
|Sebastian Roche (@sebroche), aka Balthazar|
|Jim Beaver (@jumblejim), aka Bobby Singer|
|Mark Sheppard (@mark_sheppard), aka Crowley, aka Badger from Firefly, aka Canton Delaware from Doctor Who, aka Romo Lampkin from Battlestar Gal- actually you know what I'm just going to leave this here, it would be quicker to list the things he hasn't been in|
One of the unexpected side-effects of watching all the Supernatural (ALL the Supernatural!) is that the phrases "blue-steeling like a motherfucker," "male modelling sons of bitches" and "sweet merciful Zeus" have all become permanent fixtures in my mind.
RIGHT KITTY BUFFER and then no more fangirling and / or lusting after strangers.
In other news, my birthday celebrations (cue update guilt, it feels like quite a while ago) went very very well indeed! I got sent on a fantastic treasure hunt that involved deciphering clues and getting the next one from whichever friend it pointed me to. I got a treasure chest at the end of it full of Lush products, which was just about perfect! The charity shop scavenger hunt I 'planned' went brilliantly; we got fancy hats, snazzy ties, and ugly ornaments aplenty.
Oh yeah, the ugly ornaments... the front-runner was a pottery bear-house that contained three little abominations. I mean, that thing is UGLY. But we had a surprise winner when the creepy pierrot-ish clown ornament turned out to be a music box. It's the most sinister thing, if I can I'll take some video of it because that thing needs to be in your nightmares as well as mine.
We went back to my house with the loot and had a barbecue / party / social gathering that really made my day. By midnight, when I actually turned 24, we had eaten, drunk and been merry, and continued to do so until bedtime.
I will attempt to curb my Tumblr dependency and update this more often, because there's not a shred of doubt in my mind that this is the more worthwhile endeavour. Something something tallest dwarf.
Monday, 26 September 2011
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
This Saturday, from 1pm, a poetry event called 100 thousand poets for change will be taking place in Shot In The Dark on City Road. Not all of you live in Cardiff, of course, but the event will be (gulp) livestreamed here oh my goodness.
The theme is "the doors of perception," and I'll be performing at rrrroughly quarter to 2, but do get online / there from 1pm. There's going to be some QUALITY wordsmithery going on. In fact, right after me, Leeum Johnson is performing, and you know what I think of him (hint: he is ammmmaaaaazing).
Also, and this is so so exciting, the headline act is Labi Siffre. This Labi Siffre.
I'm performing at a poetry event on Saturday! Don't know what I'm reading yet, might be something as yet unwritten... wish me luck :S
Friday, 16 September 2011
Yesterday was a day of wonderful things.
I wandered around the grass expanse of Bute park, toes clenching and relaxing in the lush grass, treading happily on loose dirt, or my outstretched legs splashing shallow in the river. The barbecue smoke washed through my hair, which I don't mind at all - for the rest of the day, every turn of my head would remind me of it - and the music flowed from the macbook.
Haha, yes. I was getting back to nature in true filthy-footed hippie style, and my cute, skinny, indie-boy friend was playing music on his macbook. I have more cute, skinny, indie-boy friends now than at any previous point in my life. They sure know how to make me feel flabby and uninteresting (on my worse days. Today, I felt nothing but enjoyment of their company. Take that, insecurities!).
The food was great, the company was wonderful, the music, and the grass the grass the grass - my feet were filthy by the time I'd stopped wandering around. Honestly, get one cider in me and I'm so much happier! I even clambered about on the stones in the stone circle grinning happily to myself. I do love Bute Park.
These photos of the park weren't taken yesterday, but they're mine and I like them. So there.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
If you know me in person, I'm sorry for being a little bit out of sorts lately. It seems like, in the past few days, a switch has flipped inside my head and now I'm fed up of being alone again.
I won't try to claim that I hadn't been looking for anyone prior to that, but I was essentially okay with being single. I got my share of attention, and while it never led anywhere, it was nice to know that some people still found me attractive. But there have been moments - today especially - when I've heard a second- or even third-hand account of someone falling in love, and have been consumed with misery at the reminder that I'm not anyone's favourite person any more.
It doesn't help that, upon recovering the data I'd thought lost when my laptop died, I discovered old photos of holidays with my ex that I'd forgotten about. It sucks to ask myself when's the last time I looked that happy and (crucially:) relaxed. I still do feel happy, of course, but more often than not it's an oh-god-please-like-me kind of smiley, all bright and tense and desperate to be accepted. I watch myself doing this. Half of me is craving positive reinforcement, and the other half is convinced I don't deserve it.
This sounds awful, doesn't it. Self-indulgently emo, and with no good reason. But I'm willing to bet that you know what I mean, because we've all felt it, and for me this left-on-the-shelf feeling is back in a big way like I haven't felt it since I was nineteen.
Well, this is just tonight. Maybe in the morning, or in a day or a week, I'll have an entirely different outlook. I hope so.
|THAT'S RIGHT LET'S ALL FEEL SAD FOR POOR LITTLE ME|
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Tonight I played some Magic: the Gathering on a sticky pub table; then I went to my second Ukulele Night at Gwdihw, a Cardiff bar that I've otherwise never set foot in. The people were so friendly, and so interesting! I hope to join them for next month's jam session. I'll bring my lovely uke along and show them what little I can do.
I've also been watching a documentary about Bill Hicks (this link is good for another 24 hours if you're in the UK). I've seen the occasional glimpse of him before - saying strange things about the nature of reality, or verbally abusing hecklers - and I've been too scared to hear him out, but I think I'm a different person these days. The past few years... I've experienced a lot more. I'm not claiming to be a better person than I was, but I understand him better now.
|"I need my sleep. I need about eight hours a day, and about ten at night." - Bill Hicks|
|Found no results for Scroobius Pip + cat. Nice going, so-called GOOGLE.|
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
I really have been neglecting you, haven't I. I'm very sorry about that. I think it's because my life is full of people now, so I rarely feel the need to reach out to the internet.
It all changed rather abruptly; I moved in with a friend from uni and his housemates, and suddenly it was as if I'd pushed off downhill in a shopping trolley. Sometimes the road steepens and sometimes it levels out, sometimes the road is especially bumpy, but I love the ride. And extended metaphors.
There's a lot of things I can't write about for privacy reasons. This blog is connected to my real identity and pseudonyms wouldn't protect the anonymity of anyone who knows me and my my friends, so to a certain extent I've had to curtail my desire to write about my experiences.
Let's see, what shape is my life right now...
I work in retail, in a job with great customers. It doesn't earn me much because it's only around two shifts a week. I'm also working as a volunteer for a Cardiff-based publishing company! I've mentioned that, I'm sure, but it's great and exciting and scary and stressful all at once.
Every week we have Drunken Sunday, where loads of our friends come over and we talk, drink, laugh and generally make merry. Drunkenness entirely optional, of course. Sometimes I'm in the middle of everything, flirting outrageously and loving the attention, and sometimes I sit in the corner and just smile because I feel so lucky to be there.
I am, you know. Very lucky. My friends are passionate, interesting, talented people, and easy on the eye to boot! Truth be told, sometimes I feel unworthy. The ol' self-esteem is kind of at an ebb right now. So it goes. I've gained a bit of weight over the past year due to not cycling any more (some helpful person put Ben's 5-digit lock on my bike, so it needs some trial-and-error codebreaking and an awful lot of TLC before I take it back out on the road). It shouldn't matter, and it's not like I think I'm ugly, but every time I see my body I'm disappointed and low. Such a shame. With a bit more confidence, I'd be having a lot more fun!
I am having fun though. Trying new things, going on adventures... On Monday morning (after two hours' sleep and a Drunken Sunday), I went up Garth mountain with my friends. Admittedly I was, er, bringing up the rear - as I say, I'm not in great shape at the best of times - but I made it up eventually and thoroughly enjoyed the whole day. And the night was just magical. It's rare to feel that close to a group of people.
I hope you're all well, and again, I'm sorry for the rather lacklustre attempts at blogging lately. You deserve better. I'll try to up my game!
Monday, 1 August 2011
The California milk board recently launched an advertising campaign saying that milk can help relieve the symptoms of PMS. However, rather than targeting this campaign at women, they've taken the indirect approach by roping in our boyfriends to help tame us crazy bitches.
Other taglines include:
"I'm sorry for the thing or things I did or didn't do."
"I'm sorry I listened to what you said and not what you meant."
"Let's agree to disagree with me." and
"We can both blame myself."
Now, this is interesting, because my first response is "Well, this is sexist, offensive, and demeaning to women." It may sound like a feminist kneejerk response, but you only have to have your opinion dismissed with the words "it's her time of the month" a couple of times before you want to remind the world that our opinions don't magically become irrelevant just because we have uteri. The whole wandering womb syndrome (the ancient Greeks' explanation for female hysteria) was disproven some time ago, you know.
Luckily Steve James, executive director of the milk board, has foreseen my response. The following quotes are taken from the New York Times article on the subject:
That the campaign is intended to be “funny, good-natured” ought to defuse criticism, Mr. James says, and “the humor will allow people to laugh at themselves.”
“If you do a microsite about how cute puppies are,” Mr. James says, “you’ll get feedback that says, ‘You’re exploiting puppies.’”
Mr. Goodby [co-chairman at the ad company responsible for this campaign] was reminded of some criticism six years ago of the “Milk to the Rescue” commercial as sexist.
“I wish I could say everybody’s got a sense of humor since then,” he says.
Great. Not only am I irrational, terrifying, and in need of careful placation, I am also minus one sense of humour. They're passed it off as an attempt to "start discussion," but unlike the product they're trying to promote, this leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth.
Saturday, 25 June 2011
|celebrating with expletives|
Ben got the First that he SO deserves, not to mention a bajillion exciting authorial opportunities. That boy's going places, I'm telling you. B. John Shaw Liddle, keep an eye out.
Also, gay marriage is now legal in New York! Seems to be a good day all round, really. I hope you've got something to celebrate, wherever you are.
I went to a fancy dress party last night, actually wearing a fancy dress for once. It was SO fancy. I haven't uploaded the photos yet, but here is an artist's impression:
Much love to the incredible @irkafirka for that picture! Trying to remember which children's illustrator this reminds me of. It's a bit Horrible Historyish, but I don't think that's it... answers on a postcard please. Anyway, yes, I'll upload photos at some point. I've been taking a lot more lately, which is a lot of fun! They're all going up on my Flickr account, as usual, but here's a couple of recent ones I like:
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
A friend of mine had a bit of a squabble with Mock The Week's twitter. She doesn't think women are as funny as men. I disagree. Knowing you're a comedy junkie, I'm here to ask you what your thoughts on this generalisation are. (Is? Are? Dammit!) Thoughts?
Are. I do have thoughts on this subject! Big, uneducated, confusing thoughts!
I can see why the question gets asked. Ask anyone to name the three most famous / popular comedians, and I'd be surprised if a woman's name gets mentioned one time in a hundred. I think a lot of it's to do with the way it's televised. Look at any stand-up show, any quiz-comedy-panel-show, and you'll see one woman. Maybe two. Women are underrepresented in mainstream comedy, and that can lead to three possible conclusions: either 1) women aren't as funny as men, or 2) women are being excluded because society discourages female comedy.
2) might sound implausible, because we tend to think "that doesn't happen any more", but how many things has society assumed women don't want to / can't do? How many times has it been wrong?
I still haven't worked out why there are things that people find funny from men that they don't like hearing from women (though this is just my gut feeling; I haven't researched it), but hopefully we'll see the gender gap close in coming years.
I submit these videos as evidence that some women are, in fact, hilarious.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=arJ4Uwf009k (This one has Hugh Laurie in. I make no apology for this.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7IW7mbvDdk (This one's barely even funny but it's got Johnny Depp in it, and I think I've lost sight of why I'm doing this.)
Also, I want to thank you for giving me an excuse to watch lots and LOTS of Smack the Pony videos XD
Friday, 17 June 2011
Guys! Guys, I just got the most AMAZING OFFER from a man who, I'm sure, is going to become a dear friend of mine. Check it out!
(Alright, admittedly I'm not a manager. But I DO come across as quite managerial in my personal and written communications, something that Bruce here clearly picked up on.)
(See? See what I mean? Ah, Bruce, you know only too well the pain and suffering that non-fresh nose skin can cause. You mean you've found a solution for this, Bruce? Oh Bruce, what was my life before you?)
Pictures? Yes! Check it out!
I don't know how he got my email address, maybe from that nose pad appreciation forum, but boy I'm glad he did. Email me again, Bruce, and soon. I miss you. I miss your touch. I miss your insights on which substances are suitable for human nose-skin.
Your loyal friend and customer,
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
"More or less exactly" is an oxymoron that I find myself using lately. As in, I've been single for more or less exactly a year. I can't be sure of the date because I didn't blog about it at the time, and without the internet to serve as my external memory I'm more lost than a puppy filling out a tax return.
I was seriously thinking about writing a "how I feel about stuff and things" post, but to be honest I don't have anything interesting to say about the subject. I lost my faith, and that was the only dealbreaker. Fin. So instead I want to share some awesome stuff I've been doing!
Two nights ago some friends and I had a beach BBQ. It was honestly the loveliest sunset I've seen in a very long time. Here are some pictures of that:
And then yesterday we had an epic waterfight, of which there are no photos, because I was too busy watergunning fools (and getting cups of water thrown over me because Aston's a dirty cheater.)
|This but with guns and laughing|
Much love to y'all!
Monday, 13 June 2011
Bristol, you are so good to me.
The first time I ever went to Bristol, I met a bunch of awesome beatboxers, and I somehow manage to go back to Cardiff (yay!) instead of Plymouth (boo) where I actually lived.
The second time, more epic beatboxing, and a hug from Hobbit (who BY THE WAY is @hobbitbeats on twitter),
The third time, I met Mr. Jonti Picking aka Weebl, and nerded all over the place for a full weekend, not to mention taking some awesome photos that I'll show you as soon as my friend uploads them (meaningful looks at Dave),
And last Thursday I finally got to see Jonathan Coulton and Paul and Storm performing.
|Ici, la photobomb.|
Monday, 6 June 2011
Today we rowed on Roath Lake. We got the hang of turning. We went around the tower twice, avoiding other vessels. We joked about pirates.
It's a big lake, lined by willow trees, but the great grey beauty was held in such a little moment - when a tiny signet, following its swan mother, shrugged and wriggled and flapped its stubby wing-nubs. I stopped rowing, wanting this moment - passing by these tiny, fluffy bird-pups - to last as long as possible.
We didn't fall in.
Then we went into Roath Park Conservatory where it was so warm that we fell asleep on a bench for a hundred years.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
When you are older, Anna, and working hard, and you look back on your university days with wistful nostalgia, I want you to remember how you felt now. Remember that the world caved in on you and you almost caved with it. Remember the feeling that any way out is better than writing another essay. It's not true objectively, it's just a temporary stress-based madness...
If you really do start to miss the drunken sundays and days off and creative coursemates, remember that it came with chaos, wasted weeks and deadlines that cracked your head.
Rose-tinted glasses won't suit you anyway.
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
*names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, and me.
You know, there’s a saying about the Queen that she must think everywhere smells like fresh paint. The world turns itself inside-out for her, and she must just think it’s normal. You’re a lot like that, Laura. You must wander through life thinking that men fall in love at the drop of a hat, but that’s not how things are, that’s just you. Men just fall in love with you. I’m not blaming you for that; you can’t help it, but the way you handle it leaves them broken, no good for anybody else.
And I’m cursed to have the same taste in men as you, and to watch them mooning over you while you dance over their fucking hearts. Eventually, maybe, one of them will realise that they’ll never have you, and will settle for me. But why should that be enough for me? Should I make peace with never being their first choice? I don’t want to go for your sloppy seconds. I’d much rather not. But still, when these sweet, kind men get tossed aside by you, sometimes I reach out to them for a moment before realising that you’re still not done. You still aren’t finished with them. So what do I do? I back the fuck off as you pull them back in, because I don’t want to make things even more complicated, and watch you complicate it all by yourself.
I don’t think I owe you a confession, but here it is anyway: I really, really liked your ex. He was coming out of your two-year relationship with his self-esteem hitting rock bottom. I had just broken up with my partner of three years and needed some comfort. So we kept each other company some nights – just that, no funny stuff – and I did the tactful thing and made sure not to mention it around you. It would have been cruel to say anything. But how much of that was fear and guilt?
Do you remember the night we went out dancing at the Welsh Club? Rach kept saying that she really, really liked your ex, but there’s no way she could do that to you, because you were friends. Imagine how that made me feel. You broke down in tears that night and said you wanted to kill yourself; it’s the first time you’d admitted missing him. I decided then and there that I wouldn’t be spending the night with him again, and I felt a calmness and clarity of purpose in that decision. I made you my priority. Bros before hoes.
It was different when Alex kissed me. You hadn't been together that long anyway, and it was after you'd been broken up for a while. He’d already asked me to clarify what I meant when I said I was “very fond” of him, and we’d both made it clear that it wasn’t worth complicating things over. I never pursued him. The kiss was a surprise, as much to him as to me, I think. It was nice. We were hanging out at the metal night the guys were running for a while. Alex is good company.
I don’t need to apologise for Mark. Nothing happened between us, nothing at all, and that’s not for lack of trying on my part. You knew I like him, but he’s crazy about you so you went for it. I’d probably have done the same damn thing in your position. Or in his, for that matter. It could have been a good thing! For both of you! It could have been fun and sweet and uncomplicated, but you’ve already begun lying and hiding and being reckless with his health as well as his feelings.
You’re magic. That’s why they fall in love with you. You dance like you’re made of music and you dress like you’re not afraid of anything, but I’ve never known anybody more scared.
So, yeah, I’m jealous. And I’m angry. But most of all I’m frightened, because when you hurt these men you hurt yourself too. Don’t do anything stupid, okay? Come home safe.
|Yeah, dude. Yeah it is.|
Monday, 23 May 2011
I'm not a conspiracy theorist. I don't believe that the moon landings were faked, or that 9/11 was an inside job, or that Elvis is alive, or that the Royal Family are lizards.
However, I do believe that page 3 models in the Sun, in addition to degrading themselves by allying themselves with that publication, are being used to espouse views that reinforce those of the paper, of Murdoch, and of the government.
Sounds weird, right? How can a naked chick be a tool of political propaganda?
Well, this very funny video says it better than I could. There's more information at this Bloggerheads post, should you be interested.
I do feel guilty about dropping out of the sky to talk about serious business, so here's an amazingly geek-laden video that made me exceedingly happy:
Thursday, 19 May 2011
Ben's book is here! Finally! You can get a copy of Suncaller from the Deadstar website (like them on facebook for a 10% discount!)
Last weekend, the Deadstar team and I went to the Bristol small press expo, and I spent pretty much the whole weekend failing at being cool around Weebl. I mean, Jonti. (But: WEEBL.) I asked him to draw a catface for me in my brand new convention sketchbook (I'm such a geek!), and his repeated claims that he was ashamed made me laugh. It was really quite endearing. I warned him that if he kept apologising, I'd progress to full-on mocking him, so when he said "I promise you, I CAN draw..." I said "Yeah, I already know that, that's sort of why I'm here." Couldn't stop grinning, it was a lot of fun. That night he hung out with us in the hotel bar and we watched Eurovision. Nice bloke! Wants to call his next kid Audio (middle name, he's not a monster), but apparently the wife isn't having any of it.
In terms of actual sales, basically everybody there was reporting a disappointing result. It seemed like 95% of the people there had a table, and there were pretty much no actual punters on the second day.
|"You are very funny, you talk but all I hear is sillyness"|
Friday, 13 May 2011
Isn't it amazing? Agh, I love Vimes so much. He was very good to me during my brief stay in A-M.
Today I was out with Ben and Dave picking up the pre-release copies of Suncaller (Ben's book). Along the way we saw a girl in a gothic lolita jacket, walking her cat. On a lead. Ben stopped to compliment her cat or something, and ten minutes later we were in her flat looking at her incredible, surreal paintings and her homemade steampunk goggles. It turned out her housemate is having some work published by Dead Star Publishing (Dave's business, also publishing Suncaller), so, you know, small world! Then we all went out for brunch.
Today has been weird, but also good.
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Yesterday on my way home from university, it had rained all day and the hot sun made clouds of steam come billowing off the pavements.
There was a huge puddle across the road under the bridge, and as cars went through they caused waves that ebbed and flowed like tides against the tunnel's side.
Ben rolled up his trousers and walked through. I ran, splashing happily, and shouting BEN BEN BEN IT'S AN ADVENTURE as I went.