Achievement Unlocked

Ladies n' gents, I've done a guest comic at Interesting Times! Check it out!

Stream of consciousness

I tell you what, you know you're a creative type when you almost wish you could get your heart broken just for the kickass poetry / music / art you'd get out of it.

It's been a long time since I seriously put out creative content regularly. I don't count these blog posts because, if I'm brutally honest, I put less effort into these than I would a poem or a picture. I guess that's one of the drawbacks of finding writing easy; it makes you lazy.

The past couple of nights, I've been staying up far later than I should wishing that somebody in particular was online. Somebody I've never met, and have nothing to say to. A sure sign of mental illness! He's... I guess, a blogger, and before that he was a youtuber, and I get the chance to chat with him every now and then about how things are going. I find him very exasperating, for reasons I won't go into here, and I have no idea why I suddenly feel like I need to hear from him.

Also, sheesh, how many times can you put "I" into a paragraph.

I used to have youtube vids up myself, actually. Only three or four. I found them today, having not watched them for a couple of years I guess, and it was really interesting to get a fresh look at myself. I could see how eager I was to please, to seem confident and interesting and fun. How much I wanted to look pretty and unique. It's interesting how deep-seated the need for approval is in some people. Aww, I told myself I wasn't going to do this, but: name-drop ahead: I was talking to Robert Webb on Twitter, and he seemed very aware of the fact that he seeks approval from everybody. He said it was the performer character-type, and I think I understand.

So here I am again, up at 3:22am, thinking too much about the wrong things instead of sleeping. I've got church in the morning and everything.

Anna the Drag Queen

As I was wandering in and out of all the clothes shops in town today, desperately searching for a white jumper like the one I made up two years ago, I was reminded of something I learned about in Sociology lessons in high school.

Judith Butler wrote about Gender Performativity, which is the idea that acting, dressing, walking in a female way, so as to appear as female as possible, is a drag act - regardless of the biological sex of the person doing it. She knows the score, man, I'm telling you. As I wandered fearfully through aisles of puffy dresses and stupid shoes, I whispered silent thanks to Ms Butler for explaining this to me.

Y'see, it's not inborn knowledge. Girls don't automatically know how to apply eyeliner, or what to wear to a 'soirée', or whether red works with purple. They don't wake up one day in a tasteful sunglow-gold haze, sit bolt upright, and say "My gosh, I've been wearing dresses with flats all these years!"

So for my entire life, I've been making it up as I go along, desperately hoping that I won't get caught out. I throw on something that probably might look ok I guess, and venture outside into the hostile, judging gaze of those who knows more about fashion than me - i.e. everyone. I fear being accosted by Gok Wan or Trinny and Susannah; those supremely confident beings who seem to know exactly what I should wear despite not knowing who I am or what I like. Maybe they could help me. Maybe they could tell me what kind of occassion those horrible puffy dresses are actually for, and it would all fall into place, and I'd cry and we'd buy me a tangerine clutch to celebrate.

But until the day comes when I pledge my undying allegiance to Red magazine, if indeed the day ever comes, I'll continue to wear stuff I find in charity shops.

My most unfashionable fashion choices:

• a long denim jacket with stars and furry bits on. I bought it because it matches the jeans I got given by a friend and fell in love with. The jeans have since fallen apart, but the jacket lives on!
• man-shirts! I love man-shirts. I have one of my brother's that he gave me, and one of my dad's that he... hasn't noticed is gone.
• a massive black rucksack. It's technically for a laptop, but when most girls don't have room for their mobile phone in those tiny pink bags of theirs, I'm pulling hatstands and stuff out of mine.
• my nails are currently bitten raw, with chipped black nail varnish. Stylish!
• big stompy shoes. They're so worn down that they squeak on every surface known to man, even carpet somehow, so it's time I found some almost but not quite exactly the same to replace them.

Mistakes even I haven't made:


In other news, I'm retiring my Creative Splurges blog. I won't delete it, but I won't be adding to it any more either - instead, feel free to check out my deviantART page!

Scrapbook etc

For those who're interested, my recent creative splurges are here, the photos I've been taking recently are here, some funny photos of people (myself included in a wig) are here, and a picture of a happy face is here.

Some of you may well be wondering why I got kicked out of the pub. It's not as glamorous and exciting as I apparently made it sound; I intended to drink some coke, maybe, but went straight through to the beer garden. This is apparently suspicious behaviour, so Gav was told to come get me. I got ID'ed, grumped a bit, and had to go. I went back a couple of days later with my passport and an apology ready - it's a difficult job they do, and I felt bad for saying "This is ridiculous" - but apparently Dan had Had Words with the management and told them that if they ID me they'll never work in this town again.

I hope Ross was exaggerating.

It's good to have friends like that, isn't it? Scary friends who Know People. Back home on the Isle of Wight I had my own mini-mafia looking out for me; I've lost count of the number of people who've sworn to avenge me should I ever have my heart broken. This is something I have not previously shared with my Beloved, so, surprise honey!...

Work, play, toys, tales, pity and pictures

Well well well. Where to start.

I've got a job. Just for a month, some simple office work, but it will be my First Proper Job. I'm not too nervous, actually; I've got a kind of "just do it" attitude that probably means I owe Nike royalties. In honour of doing this remarkably grownup thing, I've been making the necessary phone calls and running errands and finding paperwork and all sorts of impressively organised things. Mostly without hardly being threatened at all.

A friend of mine has bought a wii. This is, naturally, the perfect excuse to all go round his house and play that strangely addictive sports that involves odd limbless people that look almost, but not quite, entirely unlike you. I'd like it to be known that I absolutely kicked ass until we started playing a proper game.

I miss the days when I used to rule the world at DOA3. Out of sheer sudden cravings for that game, I started playing on Gav's Soul Calibre 2. Methadone.

I had a very detailed dream last night. The best way to remember dreams is to repeat them to yourself out loud in the morning. I thought it all through in detail, figuring that's more or less the same, and it hasn't worked. Booooo.

Gav had his hair straightened, and it made him very happy. He looks really good too, so we've bought some straighteners to share. Hooray!

Gah - remember my crushingly embarrassing bikini story? I had the opportunity to tell a rather lovely person the whole thing, and our mutual friend told me that she'd read my blog post on the matter at work on a rubbish day and that it cheered her up. I mostly write this blog for me, but that kind of comment truly brightens up my day.

Also, my toe hurts. I tripped over the carpet last night. I hopped about for a bit looking pathetic before remembering that there was nobody here to feel sorry for me. That's why I'm telling you; I figure I'm karmically owed sympathy!

Some of you know about the cartoons that I made. Well my creative splurges now extend to graphics tablet doodles. Let me know what you think!

So, in summary, life is good and moving forward, and my addiction to Boots meal deals continues unabated.

All is not lost!

I am OVERJOYED today to discover that, due to the writers' strike, I have not missed any episodes of Lost.
It's almost as if they knew...

It's been a great day for me! After an early start, I wandered around town with Tom buying sushi and stuff to design my own t-shirts. I've made mine and it's alright, I might put up a picture soon, but I'm very low on ideas for Tom's. So far I've considered drawing a dancing banana with the words "potassium funk"... but I only have purple and black fabric pens, so maybe not!

Anyway, aside from that, there's nothing left to do but introduce you all to this blog's hyperactive little sister, thiefree.tumblr.com. Visit it and follow a random link, I hope you'll like what you find!