Saturday 31 October 2009

Happy Halloween

A million different parties in a million different places, mountains of candy, barrels and barrels of intoxication, an array of different costumes, lit jack o laterns, black and orange...and nothing particularly spooky.

Last year hat and I carved our first pumpkin. It had a crown, it had a name (which I can't recall at all). We placed a scented candle in it because we couldn't find any other candles. Vanilla, I think. This is what it looked like:



We had never attended (or wait, 'been invited to' is probably more accurate) a Halloween party but a couple of hats friends came over to strategically located Flat 5 for a couple of convenient drinks before they headed out. One was dressed as an angel, the other a devil. Hat and I decided to tag along and therefore had to assemble ourselves into relatively 'frightening' characters in approximately 10 minutes. Hat wore this amazing dress (Anna Sui!) and went as a gothic bride, and I went as the eeriest creature in the entertainment industry, Winehouse. The devil used my eyeliner and lipliner to draw and colour in the tattoos, which turned out quite impressive (with, of course, an overtone of hilarity). I think we had a good night out.

Tonight, however, I will stay at home with my scary law books.. lanternless, constumeless, candyless. I can't say with certainty that I mind though. Happy Halloween to the rest of yous anyway.


Ignore the video, enjoy the song.

Friday 30 October 2009

Private Grandeur

I listen to this a lot when I am on my own. It makes the world seem so negligible by coaxing my self-consciousness into (fleeting) Fuck You confidence. Enjoy.



wow, this version is really quite insulting. it does no justice to what i just wrote. i can't find the album version. sorry.

Thursday 29 October 2009

Boys, etc



I think I’m obliquely self-obsessed. I’m uncomfortably fond of a boy who I think, in a lot of ways, is a lot like me. Loyalty is another problem -I need to get better at forgetting antiquated, tarnished crushes. This crush went sour a long time ago but I guess it wasn’t enough to shake me. So for now, I’ll just sit by my delusional self, and envisage kissing in the rain with My Bloody Valentine playing in the background, feeling absolutely infinite. And there it is, my biggest problem – being disturbingly, pathetically delusional.

Monday 26 October 2009

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.



Friday 23 October 2009

time to forget about it

to forget about work, that is.
because
consolidation week is here!(crowd goes wild)

it's Friday today and in the spirit of my non-existent social life, i will be staying in. but tomorrow night will be different. it will be great. it will be PHOENIX WOLFGANG AMADEUS! the last time i got this excited for a gig it was when hat and i were going to see m83. i'm sure phoenix won't let me down- i don't see how they could.

and on Sunday, i think i will be making my way back to the birthplace of Flat 5- Leamington Spa. i will return with due hesitance. a lot of memories, a lot of faces i'd rather not see. standard. but anyway, i'm going to check out these boys(see video below), who are Leamy homeboys according to a friend of mine (who, for reasons uncertain, i kind of miss).like it matters. they'll be playing at this bar which was a stones throw from Flat 5. it would be good to still be living there. a lot more convenient than a 40 minute train ride and a 20 minute walk. oh well, it should be better than another night alone at home.



have a good weekend, troops.
Xx

Thursday 22 October 2009

i will always love paolo more

ipod was on shuffle mode. and this song came on;



ARGH.

Tuesday 20 October 2009

Confession #1



Not the best image, I agree. I adore Freja Beha to tiny uncollectable bits and pieces but bear with me, please.

Due to my pathetic SkyTV subscription, I was forced to watch ‘How To Look Good Naked’ whilst eating dinner. Tuesday night Trash TV at its lowest point. With little else choice, I watched the first ten minutes of the show and began to feel slightly nauseous.

The host of the show said that most women have a distorted body image. I find it hard to reconcile with his submission, seeing how women here (ENGLAND REPRESENTN’!), regardless of shape/size, go out half naked on their nights out about town. The sight: Nasty.

Anyhow, it’s more than a bit worrying to think that most of us mortal females loathe the way we look and I have always been far from ready to accept this as a truth. I guess I never fully appreciated it but, after watching ten minutes of the show, I’m inclined to believe that a lot of us girls have an issue or two with the dreadful mirror. Yes, I am the ultimate sucker.

Hmmm, I’m sure you’re expecting me to take things more personally.I will oblige.
I stand taller than most girls and a lot of people have told me that ‘it’s a good thing’. As much as I’ve tired, I honestly do not see it that way. I’m less than half an inch away from 5’11, which means that wearing heels brings will translate my usual form to that of the BFG. Not pretty. To give you an insight on my ‘great heights’, the least I can say is that most guys are shorter than me and that as the feeble other sex, they would not want to date a girl who towers over them. Boo fucking hoo.

Second, my BMI of 16.5 tells me that I am underweight. Do I believe it? Hell no. Given the choice, if it did not require starving myself to death, my personal ‘ultimate’ BMI would be...(drum roll, please) fourteen point two. Yes, 14.2. No, I am not anorexic. All of my friends will tell you that one of the very few things I’m impeccably talented at is eating more than a girl should. In spite of this baffling tug of war game, I have, at the very least on a personal level, come to realise what the problem is. The girls who stand at my height that I find attractive, are obviously drop dead gorgeous models. It is not great. I am unsure as to when it happened but, somewhere, somehow, I decided that I should morph, in as many ways as possible, into what THEY look like. I have never fully welcomed this conception (perhaps in self-denial) but as ugly as it is, it’s the truth.

On this note, there are a few things that should be pointed out (and I will sigh in relief if some of you agree with me):

1. I think mirrors are a generally a massive let down. Thus, I get a bit nervous when I look into one.

2. When people tell me I’m thin, I honestly think ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’


Based on these two very simple points, the most straightforward conclusion you could draw is
Thinner= happier i.e. end of body image issues

WRONG!


Trust me, girls. Once you’re pretty much as thin as you can get, you will move on to other things to scrutinize. Typically, the most palpable victim will be your face. For me, its the easiest place to target flaws. You compare images of what you think is attractive to that of yourself and think, ‘Fuck, I’ve totally missed the mark.’ I am unsure as to how to reconcile with this, but I have grasped its mechanism- you look at glossy images and yearn to replicate such perfection, such beauty but then the mirror haunts you and you’re left with little else than disgust. Then, if you are anything like me, you will be left with the grand finale of an utterance of an inarticulate ‘Ugh’ under your breath.

No, no, no, I am not suggesting that we stop reading our favourite fashion magazines or, at the other extreme, that we stop eating or go under the knife...instead, I think we (or I, at the very least) need come to terms with what we tend to view as body image ‘shortcomings’. Perfection is overrated. If I ever saw a guy who looked like Depp or Pitt, I probably wouldn’t pay him much attention because I’d think that he is completely devoid of any trace of personality. If I see girls on the street who look too ‘put together’, I don’t bother looking at them. I feel that they’ve succumbed too much, too far, into the whole faux conception of beauty- and it sickens me.

So, what do we do? What do I suggest? Firstly, that you don’t waste your money on therapy..they’ll tell you what you already know. You can talk to a wall and buy an amazing pair of shoes instead. Second, SERIOUSLY learn to love yourself. You must be good at SOMETHING. If you can’t establish what it is, if you have good people around you, or at least ONE good friend you can rely on, you should know that you aren’t doing so badly. Beauty which is met with the eye fades and dies, it’s a fact. I think we need to look a bit deeper to find something more substantial to hold on to before we let our obsession swallow us whole til we are left with absolutely nothing at all.

As it is, I feel that I’ve said too much.I don’t know if this makes any sense at all to you, dear reader, but if it does, kudos.

Xx
scio

Sunday 18 October 2009

The Brightside


In the midst of this miserable month, I have managed to assemble a list of things to look forward to :

1. The Hills tonight at 9 PM
2. Phoenix on the 24th!
3. 24/10/09 - 31/10/09 : Consolidation Week a.k.a. Reading Week, formerly known as One Week Of Danger in Flat 5. Minimal (law related) reading, if any at all, will be done.
4. Paris during Consolidation Week. (there are currently no reasonably priced tickets to Stockholm. boo.)
5. Concluding the end of my two week detoxing period with steak & wine & all things fine.
6. London, soonish.


Life ain't so bad.

Bye Bye Bayou

LCD Soundsystem's cover. It's not amazing but it sounds marginally better than the Church bells that have been ringing incessantly all morning.


Thursday 15 October 2009

Perfection is Dead

Fair haired boys never did strike my fancy and the only exception I am willing to make made his way 6 feet under 54 years ago. Dead and divine, none other than Dean.




















AND FINALLY,

this is one of my favourite pictures in existence.



"Honey, you're up!Did you sleep okay?"


Well, that's the end of this post, I'll let him sleep away.

Wednesday 14 October 2009

The A.M.

Good Morning. I dragged myself out of bed at 10 to 6 after managing to ignore the alarm for a respectable 50 minutes. Bright and early? Hardly. Premature mornings are little other than dark and bleak and should, in the course of my classic case of destructive youth, be fallen asleep to and not risen to. Winter’s icy fingers stealthily reach out from December to meddle clumsily with these hours of the morning, making it colder than it ought to be..making me never ever want to leave the warmth of my bed.


Maybe a little tune will help roast the room a bit.




Hmph. Futility. It's a quarter to eight now and I should take a shower now before it gets too late. Brrrr.

:) :)

I never got into the Pains (they tripped and fell on the wrong side of pop) but watching this video again (bar the excessive smiling and skipping) reminded me of the good life in flat 5.

Monday 12 October 2009

hey ma, ribbbiiitttt



i know this is not new but im having a case of quarter-life crisis. and apparently out of all my peers im the only one having it. my ability to hurt people around me and destroy every chance of 'good' future i have is quite amazing. seriously what happened? why do i think that i deserve much more than what i already have? and if anyone could fake it, why not i? i hate being so passionate about sthing (self-obsession), yet at the same time passionless at everything else (lazy).

with the amount of shits thrown at us this month i wonder, is it the curse of flat5 or r we just running out of luck? so i refer to my trusted feng shui book for any indications of bad luck in october, and true enough. wait. hold up. the bad shit that happened to me occurred in a good month. fucking hell i cant even trust a good month. and this month is volatile where it can either be really good or really bad. heres hoping for a good one and hopefully my sad drawing of 12 fishes and ruby bracelet will restore my good karma and activate my good luck. and if i need to get that jade frog thing for extra luck then so be it! anything for a better month ;/

*****

i re-read the book, and i realized i got few things wrong;
1. 9 goldfishes not 12 random fishies
2. 6 wealth toads water feature and not jade frog thing
3. mantra ring(?) for luck in studies!

no wonder 2009 is beyond shit! now where can i get that toad water feature thing?

Thursday 8 October 2009

-

finally, boxes filled with things i had accumulate in three years there have arrived. most of them are junks which cld explain why i didnt 'need ' any of the items when they were gone. regardless, unpacking the boxes, slowly going through all my stuff, the smell of flat 5, the sound of flat 5, memories of living there, easy life fun life disastrous life. i miss

=(

xx,
sadHAT

Wednesday 7 October 2009

Cheer me up, I'm a tireless bore

The world needs more men like Ramesh. If you write like this, you must love like heaven.




(yes, this is ancient but definitely one of my favourite songs of all time)

Is there anything good about October?

No. Even the sun doesn’t want to look it in its face. It hides behind massive clouds of grey, leaving us to shiver in the cold. The rain has also just returned from its summer break and has resumed its mission of tormenting me deeper into misery and frizzing my hair out. October smirks and reminds you constantly that summer is gone and won’t be back for a long, long time.


The next six months will be particularly unkind to me- the weather dictates my mood and boy, do I hate the cold. When winter is at its peak, your face is frozen as soon as you leave home. The face you wear for the rest of the day is that very same face you had on as you stepped out of the airless warmth of electric heating into the unwelcoming, glacial outdoors. Your movement is limited by the umpteen layers you have dressed yourself in, in a vain attempt of trying to outwit the cold. The battle is short and winter wins. And so you stand there, bitter and awkwardly statuesque, wanting to wave your middle finger at this unforgiving weather but you can’t, for you know that even the middle finger loses its impact in winter- wrapped up in a woollen glove, trembling slightly but numb otherwise. Like some sad finger puppet withering into death from its final epileptic fit.


Then, after what seemed to be a pretty long day, you gaze up at the big black canopy that sits where the sky used to be and assume that you’re smack in the dead of the night. No. It is 4 in the evening. So, it’s subzero doom and gloom outside, you’re starving even though you just ate an hour ago, your clothes make you resemble the Michelin man AND your electricity bill is rocketing. Meeting up with friends means braving the cold AGAIN. Plus, hanging out this(that?) time of year is almost always disappointing because everyone is sullen-struck by winter and all anyone ever talks about is how cold it is. So you sit at home all alone, dehydrated from the heating, wallowing in your misery, allowing your morose to grow and all you can actually think of is how much you fucking hate winter.




As usual, this post was another totally pointless complain. Have a nice day.