Pilfer is a good word.
GET TO KNOW
———————————————————————————————
Time started: 22.06
Name: V
Single or Taken: Single
Sex: Female
Birthday: 6th September
Sign: Virgo
Eye colour: it changes, but Gustav Wood blue
What are you wearing: demin shorts, red bra, knickers, medibracelet, paper wristband from Swansea, LP plectrum necklace, big cut-up purple MISSION DISTRICT tshirt.
Where do you live: Hertfordshire, England
Righty or lefty: Righty
FAVOURITE
———————————————————————————————
Where is your favorite place to shop: Hotel Chocolat.
Colour: Purple or blue. I don't mind which shade.
Number: 42
Boys' Name: Iunno. Something from mythology, or with a cool meaning.
Girls' Name: See boys' name. I like Adalia.
Animal: Cat or horse
Month: August
Movie: I can't pick just one! Maybe Mean Girls or Avatar.
Juice: Pomegranate
Breakfast: Cooked - scrambled eggs, beans and potato scones (i had them in Scotland, nomnomnom)
Favorite cartoon character: Lisa Simpson, Cero from Cardcaptors, Bakura from Yu-Gi-Oh The Abridged Series ;)
HAVE YOU EVER
———————————————————————————————
Given anyone a bath: Yes, my cousin's little boy
Smoked: nope
Bungee Jumped: I wish!
Gone skinny dipping: No
Eaten a dog: ... No.
Put your tongue on a frozen pole: Yes. It's not good.
Loved someone so much it made you cry: No
Broken a bone: Not yet!
Played truth or dare: Yes
Been in a physical fight: I don't think so... well, only with my brother.
Been in a police car: Nope
Been in a hot tub: Nuh uh.
Swam in the ocean: Well, the sea...
Fallen asleep in school: All the time
Ran away: Not properly
Broken someone’s heart: I HIGHLY doubt it
Cried when someone died: Of course.
Cried in school: Yeah
Fell off your chair: Mmhmm
Sat by the phone all night waiting for someone to call: Nope
Saved AIM/MSN conversation: Yes, once.
WHAT IS
———————————————————————————————
Your good luck charm: my LP pick that tBO Bob gave me :)
Best song you ever heard: Horrid question. No idea.
What’s your room like: walls painted with murals from when I was a kid, lots of cuddly toys, posters on (starting to fall off) the ceiling, stacks of old magazines.
Last thing you ate: Bourbon biscuit and a cup of tea
What kind of shampoo do you use: Whatever is next to me at the time.
Do you believe in karma: No, but I like the concept of it.
HAVE YOU HAD
————————————————————
Chicken pox: Yes. And then I had shingles too >.>
Sore Throat: Of course
Stitches: No, but I;ve had steri-strips.
Broken nose: No
DO YOU
——————————————————————
Believe in love at first sight: I'll believe it when I see it
Like picnics: of course!
Like school: No
What schools have you gone to: Beechwood Park Prep School, St Albans High School For Girls
Would you eat a live hamster for $1,000,000 dollars: No wai, man.
Who was the last person that called you: Unknown. And then... probably Aimee.
What makes you laugh the most: jokes with my friends when we're all sleep-deprived.
LAST PERSON
———————————————
You yelled at: Probably Mum.
Who broke your heart: Never had my heart broken :')
Who is your loudest friend: Torii.
DO YOU/ARE YOU
——————————————————————————————
Do you like filling these out: Yeah, they're fun.
Do you wear contacts or glasses: No, luckily. Apparently I might need reading glasses when I'm older though >.>
Do you like yourself: Sometimes.
Do you get along with your family: More often than not.
Obsessive: I don't think so.
Compulsive: Not sure.
Anorexic: HAHAHAHAHA no.
FINAL QUESTIONS
—————————————————————————————-
What are you listening to right now: The news.
What did you do yesterday: went to school, had lunch, had more school, came home, watched TV, played Peggle, had tea, had a bath, did homework, went to bed, played Pokemon, went to sleep.
What car do you wish you had: That one powered by liquid hydrogen. Is it liquid hydrogen? It's liquid something. It's gorgeous and totally eco-friendly.
Where do you want to get married: Not for me.
If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be: I'd have naturally blonde hair so it's easier to dye crazy colours, and I'd be more focused. I procrastinate too much.
How many remote controls are in your house: TV, DVD, digibox, other TV, other digibox, remote games controllers for Wii x2 and PS2.
Last time you took a bath: yesterday
The last movie you saw at the cinemas: Avatar
Do you like scary or happy movies: Happy :)
Black or white: Black please
Root Beer or Dr.Pepper: Neither
Vanilla or chocolate: Vanilla
Silver or Gold: Silver ^^ But in terms of Pokemon, Gold.
Diamond or pearl: Diamond.
Sunset or Sunrise: Sunset
Sprite or 7up: They're both teeth-rooting lemonade. So both :D
Cats or dogs: Kittehs!
Coffee or tea: depends on my mood
Phone or in person: In person
Are you the oldest, middle, youngest or only child: Youngest ;)
Indoor or outdoor: Indoor
Time ended: 22.38
If there's anything else you want to know, leave a question :D
Friday 23 April 2010
Monday 19 April 2010
Carnage and Glitter
So I wrote a story at 2am, and one person liked it, so I'm going to post it here:
Once upon a time, the world ended. It was not big, or showy; it was not a grand procession of colours and light and magic, moving in some pre-determined order to meet the end. There was no symmetry, no neatness, no slow stirring music to serve as a soundscape to rolling credits. The world ended, and there was nothing in the galaxy, in the universe, to show we’d ever been there at all. It was just carnage and glitter.
I watched my daughter sleep, the light from the moon reflecting off the metal posts of her bed. She insisted on keeping the curtains open, in case something happened outside and she missed it. In the summer, she looked at the stars from behind glass. In the winter, she sat on her sill and crossed her fingers and wished seven times for snow. She was the most curious, philosophical, naïve sixteen-year-old in the world.
I moved to close the curtains, and one of her eyes opened.
“No, Mum,” she murmured, her voice a hazy blur. She could still be dreaming. “No…”
“It’ll be warmer in here if I close them, honey,” I said softly. “I’ll wake you so that you don’t miss anything.”
She regarded me, her cynicism and lust for excitement balanced with that warm dozy feeling of sweet dreams.
“Promise?” she said, her voice beginning to slide.
“Promise,” I said, as she closed her eyes and turned heavy and limp, asleep. I closed her curtains.
Ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
“Mum, why were the roses in rings?”
“They were like daisy chains.”
“…”
“…”
“Mum, what’s a posy?”
“A little bunch of flowers.”
“Mum, why were there ashes?”
“Because everyone was a heavy smoker.”
“…”
“…”
“Mum, what’s the difference between fairy tales and real life?”
“Fairy tales are things adults made up to make their kids behave, and warn them about what can happen in real life.”
“Mum, what’s the difference between being awake and dreaming?”
“Dreams are things which never really happen.”
“But – then, Mum – how can dreams come true?”
The Chav looked at the Goth with an expression of supreme superiority.
“I’m better than you,” he stated in a nasal tone.
The Goth smiled.
“Is that so?” she asked, light and cheerful. “Can you tell stories?”
“No, but – ”
“Can you sing?”
“No, but – ”
“Do you think of death as the end of meaning or as a means to an end?”
“I don’t – ”
The Goth smiled at the Chav, regarded coolly his branded tracksuit trousers and hoodie, his oversized trainers and fake gold chains. Her rings sparkled. Her teeth seemed to glow against the black of her lipstick.
“Then why, uneducated sir, do you think you’re better than me?”
He pulled out a knife.
“Oh, please. Stop perpetuating your negative stereotype.”
And that was how it began: the beginning of a world where Chavs and Goths became separate races, and their children avoided eye contact on the street, and wars were fought not on battlefields but in boardrooms; and if a Chav ever won an intellectual battle with a Goth, then people in black took him or her away, and nothing was ever said of it.
“Mum, where are we going?”
“To the doctor.”
“Why? You’re not ill.”
“…”
“I’m not ill!”
“It’s a special kind of doctor, love. It’s a different kind.”
“NO!”
“What is it?”
“NO! Mum, I know what it is!”
“What?”
“You’re taking me away!”
“Honey, stop being ridiculous.”
“You’ll take me to a psychiatrist. And he’ll tell me – he’ll say I’m crazy, because that’s what they always say.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“If you don’t think I’m crazy, why are you taking me to the psychiatrist?”
“…”
“…”
“It’s to help you.”
“They can’t help me if they lock me up.”
“They won’t lock you up.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Good. Don’t lie.”
I watched my daughter talk, and I couldn’t believe what she said. She spoke calmly, relaying everything to the doctor who sat there and nodded and made notes; he asked questions, she was flummoxed, and she couldn’t understand why he didn’t understand. Then she started questioning him, and she wouldn’t stop. Later, he took me aside and looked at me sternly.
“Your daughter seems to be unable to tell the difference between reality and dreams. Fairy tales. Nursery rhymes.”
I blinked. Were there tears, waiting to fall? I prayed not. I didn’t want to cry in front of this man, who had cross-examined my daughter like he was a lawyer and she was a hostile witness in court; this man who had made her cry so the invisible jury would talk.
“So,” I said, hating myself for it, “what can we do?”
I woke up. I opened my curtains. I looked at the frost on the ground. I looked at the shattered glass at the top of the window and decided to ignore it. I sat on the windowsill and counted the stars. I pressed my nose flat against the glass and breathed until all I could see was steam. I ignored the constellations with the stupid names and made up my own. There were hundreds of patterns in the sky. It’s just that nobody ever sees them, because they only look at what other people have seen. Nobody opens their eyes.
“Honey,” Mum said, “it’s late. You should be asleep.”
I looked at her.
“Mummy?”
“What is it, baby?” she asked, sitting down beside me. She pulled me into her lap and looked out with me. She hummed a nursery rhyme under her breath, watching me. She tapped her fingers on the metal bed frame. She waited for an answer. When she gave up, she opened her mouth, and I answered her then.
“Mummy, don’t let me grow up.”
It’s happened, you know. The end of the world. It happened a long time ago, but far away. And because the world is so big, it’s taking a long time for us to see it. But the order is breaking down, everywhere you look. Even the stupid are asking questions, and there aren’t enough men in black in the cosmos to stop them. The light is seeping in through the cracks and everything obvious sparkles; everything obscured casts eerie shadows.
This is how the universe ends. Everyone goes to sleep, so they don't see it anymore. We all live unhappily ever after in carnage and glitter.
Once upon a time, the world ended. It was not big, or showy; it was not a grand procession of colours and light and magic, moving in some pre-determined order to meet the end. There was no symmetry, no neatness, no slow stirring music to serve as a soundscape to rolling credits. The world ended, and there was nothing in the galaxy, in the universe, to show we’d ever been there at all. It was just carnage and glitter.
I watched my daughter sleep, the light from the moon reflecting off the metal posts of her bed. She insisted on keeping the curtains open, in case something happened outside and she missed it. In the summer, she looked at the stars from behind glass. In the winter, she sat on her sill and crossed her fingers and wished seven times for snow. She was the most curious, philosophical, naïve sixteen-year-old in the world.
I moved to close the curtains, and one of her eyes opened.
“No, Mum,” she murmured, her voice a hazy blur. She could still be dreaming. “No…”
“It’ll be warmer in here if I close them, honey,” I said softly. “I’ll wake you so that you don’t miss anything.”
She regarded me, her cynicism and lust for excitement balanced with that warm dozy feeling of sweet dreams.
“Promise?” she said, her voice beginning to slide.
“Promise,” I said, as she closed her eyes and turned heavy and limp, asleep. I closed her curtains.
Ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
“Mum, why were the roses in rings?”
“They were like daisy chains.”
“…”
“…”
“Mum, what’s a posy?”
“A little bunch of flowers.”
“Mum, why were there ashes?”
“Because everyone was a heavy smoker.”
“…”
“…”
“Mum, what’s the difference between fairy tales and real life?”
“Fairy tales are things adults made up to make their kids behave, and warn them about what can happen in real life.”
“Mum, what’s the difference between being awake and dreaming?”
“Dreams are things which never really happen.”
“But – then, Mum – how can dreams come true?”
The Chav looked at the Goth with an expression of supreme superiority.
“I’m better than you,” he stated in a nasal tone.
The Goth smiled.
“Is that so?” she asked, light and cheerful. “Can you tell stories?”
“No, but – ”
“Can you sing?”
“No, but – ”
“Do you think of death as the end of meaning or as a means to an end?”
“I don’t – ”
The Goth smiled at the Chav, regarded coolly his branded tracksuit trousers and hoodie, his oversized trainers and fake gold chains. Her rings sparkled. Her teeth seemed to glow against the black of her lipstick.
“Then why, uneducated sir, do you think you’re better than me?”
He pulled out a knife.
“Oh, please. Stop perpetuating your negative stereotype.”
And that was how it began: the beginning of a world where Chavs and Goths became separate races, and their children avoided eye contact on the street, and wars were fought not on battlefields but in boardrooms; and if a Chav ever won an intellectual battle with a Goth, then people in black took him or her away, and nothing was ever said of it.
“Mum, where are we going?”
“To the doctor.”
“Why? You’re not ill.”
“…”
“I’m not ill!”
“It’s a special kind of doctor, love. It’s a different kind.”
“NO!”
“What is it?”
“NO! Mum, I know what it is!”
“What?”
“You’re taking me away!”
“Honey, stop being ridiculous.”
“You’ll take me to a psychiatrist. And he’ll tell me – he’ll say I’m crazy, because that’s what they always say.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“If you don’t think I’m crazy, why are you taking me to the psychiatrist?”
“…”
“…”
“It’s to help you.”
“They can’t help me if they lock me up.”
“They won’t lock you up.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Good. Don’t lie.”
I watched my daughter talk, and I couldn’t believe what she said. She spoke calmly, relaying everything to the doctor who sat there and nodded and made notes; he asked questions, she was flummoxed, and she couldn’t understand why he didn’t understand. Then she started questioning him, and she wouldn’t stop. Later, he took me aside and looked at me sternly.
“Your daughter seems to be unable to tell the difference between reality and dreams. Fairy tales. Nursery rhymes.”
I blinked. Were there tears, waiting to fall? I prayed not. I didn’t want to cry in front of this man, who had cross-examined my daughter like he was a lawyer and she was a hostile witness in court; this man who had made her cry so the invisible jury would talk.
“So,” I said, hating myself for it, “what can we do?”
I woke up. I opened my curtains. I looked at the frost on the ground. I looked at the shattered glass at the top of the window and decided to ignore it. I sat on the windowsill and counted the stars. I pressed my nose flat against the glass and breathed until all I could see was steam. I ignored the constellations with the stupid names and made up my own. There were hundreds of patterns in the sky. It’s just that nobody ever sees them, because they only look at what other people have seen. Nobody opens their eyes.
“Honey,” Mum said, “it’s late. You should be asleep.”
I looked at her.
“Mummy?”
“What is it, baby?” she asked, sitting down beside me. She pulled me into her lap and looked out with me. She hummed a nursery rhyme under her breath, watching me. She tapped her fingers on the metal bed frame. She waited for an answer. When she gave up, she opened her mouth, and I answered her then.
“Mummy, don’t let me grow up.”
It’s happened, you know. The end of the world. It happened a long time ago, but far away. And because the world is so big, it’s taking a long time for us to see it. But the order is breaking down, everywhere you look. Even the stupid are asking questions, and there aren’t enough men in black in the cosmos to stop them. The light is seeping in through the cracks and everything obvious sparkles; everything obscured casts eerie shadows.
This is how the universe ends. Everyone goes to sleep, so they don't see it anymore. We all live unhappily ever after in carnage and glitter.
Monday 12 April 2010
Friday 2 April 2010
Script Frenzy... Day 2
Script Frenzy has started, which I am almost inevitably going to fail... mainly because I have no inspiration, and my laptop's mouse keys are broken.
So I'm sitting here reading through my script wondering what the hell to write, and whether I have time to scrap this and start again. I'm not going to bed tonight until I have reached seven pages. I'm on... two and a half.
This can only end well...!
(In other news... Slam Dunk looks amazing, I can't wait for the new Sonisphere and Slam Dunk festival announcements, and I am going to Reading festival. Wins all round.)
So I'm sitting here reading through my script wondering what the hell to write, and whether I have time to scrap this and start again. I'm not going to bed tonight until I have reached seven pages. I'm on... two and a half.
This can only end well...!
(In other news... Slam Dunk looks amazing, I can't wait for the new Sonisphere and Slam Dunk festival announcements, and I am going to Reading festival. Wins all round.)
Tuesday 23 March 2010
If it matters at all.
What's one thing that matters to you? Just one thing. One thing, no matter how tiny and insignificant. One teeny weeny thing that you could write pages and pages on - or one huge thing, whose significance to you is impossible to articulate.
I could tell you about anything.
Spotify. Gigs. Wikipedia. Rainbows. Manga. The NHS. The number 7.
Supporting unknown bands and discovering new music. Windows. Wrapping paper. Tutus. Boys' jeans. String. Hair dye.
Idividuality. People with big noses. Toothpaste. Text messages. Scars.
Geodes. Shoelaces. Smiles.
That feeling you get when you see someone you've been missing.
So right now, I am going to tell you one thing which matters to me. Words.
Think about it - ha, see, you've already started. We think however we like, in colours or shapes or numbers or feelings or sounds, but as soon as we start to try and describe it, we have to use words. Words do their best to take all those impossible things and wrestle them into submission so they make some sort of sense. Words convey impossible thoughts and ideas. Even if you can't describe something in English, there will be a word for it in some other language. The way perfume smells as it lingers in the air, the smell of it leaving - it's a clumsy sentence in English, but in French you have "sillage".
Words create my favourite things in the world; lyrics, poetry, novels, articles, websites. You can explain to people all kinds of abstract ideas. The way you phrase things can change people's moods, and different words can carry different connotations.
"The weather is fine" makes you think of a clear day. Maybe a bit grey. But a typically British, "fine" day. Compare it to -
"The weather is balmy" makes you think of gentle warmth. You can taste the ice lollies and tissues and sunshine like a watery egg.
Words matter to me because without them everything would be done in pictures and sounds - which is all fine, but why do we teach language to children? So they can communicate. Music and pictures speak in ways language can't manage, but words can explain things that music and pictures can't.
So, if you've just read this, leave me a comment about one thing - anything - that matters to you. And your favourite word, while you're at it. Mine is "mellifluous", which has the same route as the name "Melissa" - Greek for honey. Mellifluous is a word to describe things which flow like honey; so, the word mellifluous is itself mellifluous. Aren't words fun?
I could tell you about anything.
Spotify. Gigs. Wikipedia. Rainbows. Manga. The NHS. The number 7.
Supporting unknown bands and discovering new music. Windows. Wrapping paper. Tutus. Boys' jeans. String. Hair dye.
Idividuality. People with big noses. Toothpaste. Text messages. Scars.
Geodes. Shoelaces. Smiles.
That feeling you get when you see someone you've been missing.
So right now, I am going to tell you one thing which matters to me. Words.
Think about it - ha, see, you've already started. We think however we like, in colours or shapes or numbers or feelings or sounds, but as soon as we start to try and describe it, we have to use words. Words do their best to take all those impossible things and wrestle them into submission so they make some sort of sense. Words convey impossible thoughts and ideas. Even if you can't describe something in English, there will be a word for it in some other language. The way perfume smells as it lingers in the air, the smell of it leaving - it's a clumsy sentence in English, but in French you have "sillage".
Words create my favourite things in the world; lyrics, poetry, novels, articles, websites. You can explain to people all kinds of abstract ideas. The way you phrase things can change people's moods, and different words can carry different connotations.
"The weather is fine" makes you think of a clear day. Maybe a bit grey. But a typically British, "fine" day. Compare it to -
"The weather is balmy" makes you think of gentle warmth. You can taste the ice lollies and tissues and sunshine like a watery egg.
Words matter to me because without them everything would be done in pictures and sounds - which is all fine, but why do we teach language to children? So they can communicate. Music and pictures speak in ways language can't manage, but words can explain things that music and pictures can't.
So, if you've just read this, leave me a comment about one thing - anything - that matters to you. And your favourite word, while you're at it. Mine is "mellifluous", which has the same route as the name "Melissa" - Greek for honey. Mellifluous is a word to describe things which flow like honey; so, the word mellifluous is itself mellifluous. Aren't words fun?
Saturday 20 March 2010
The beginnings of Casper's story
I'm trying to write the beginning of my weird "humans vs vampires in a world war" story. Here is what I have managed to write so far. This is a rough draft done late at night so don't be expecting anything Nobel prize winning. Here you go:
I had figured that there were three possible ways for me to die. I hadn’t expected this to be one of them. For a start, I never thought I’d live to be dead.
The first way I had imagined was what I expected to happen, had life remained the same. I expected to grow up, get good grades, go to university, and end up in a dead-end job anyway. After a string of whirlwind romances in my early twenties, I would have settled down with a polite, well-bred man, ten years older than me, with thoughtful eyes and curly hair. We’d have a few children; they would grow up and have children of their own who I’d dote on, and we’d holiday in Tarriland or the Bai’lai Islands every summer. My husband would die at seventy years old of a heart attack; I would move to a little country house, where my children would visit me every week, when they remembered. After being cooked dinner, I die in my sleep on the morning of my eighty-fourth birthday. Oh, the joys of suburbia.
The second way I had imagined was that my punk band, Everything Sarah Said, became huge after our debut album – recorded when I was sixteen – became everyone’s new favourite record. Our sound developed from snarling punk into snarling alt-rock, and we became a cult band for the first six years, and gained amazing influence. By the time I was twenty, I’d sold two hundred and fifty thousand records, and yet managed to keep my private and public lives separated. Finally, at age twenty-nine, after a night out drinking with the girls, I accidentally crashed my motorbike into a tree. The whole of the Vessenian speaking world mourned my loss, and I was hailed as a real rock star. That’s the dream, anyway.
The third way was what I was now ninety-nine per cent sure was going to happen. Since the war with Jesnar started, and all the conscription started, I am now sure that I will die on the battlefield, blown up by a Jesnari bomb in Intoh or Genoland. Maybe I’ll be captured and die in a prisoner of war camp. Maybe I’ll be hit by shrapnel or fall from the sky in my shot down aeroplane. In any case, I will die fighting for my country for values I don’t believe in. But I guess it’s better to be killed in battle than be shot for treachery. Maybe I’ll object on moral grounds and die doing hard labour, or run away to West Seminor on a boat. But more than likely, it’ll be this: I will die making sure that Jesnar does not take over the country where I was born.
Well, that was what I assumed would happen, anyway. But it turns out that I’m not allowed a nice, neat death like everyone else. But before I go any further into the present, allow me to explain the past.
I had figured that there were three possible ways for me to die. I hadn’t expected this to be one of them. For a start, I never thought I’d live to be dead.
The first way I had imagined was what I expected to happen, had life remained the same. I expected to grow up, get good grades, go to university, and end up in a dead-end job anyway. After a string of whirlwind romances in my early twenties, I would have settled down with a polite, well-bred man, ten years older than me, with thoughtful eyes and curly hair. We’d have a few children; they would grow up and have children of their own who I’d dote on, and we’d holiday in Tarriland or the Bai’lai Islands every summer. My husband would die at seventy years old of a heart attack; I would move to a little country house, where my children would visit me every week, when they remembered. After being cooked dinner, I die in my sleep on the morning of my eighty-fourth birthday. Oh, the joys of suburbia.
The second way I had imagined was that my punk band, Everything Sarah Said, became huge after our debut album – recorded when I was sixteen – became everyone’s new favourite record. Our sound developed from snarling punk into snarling alt-rock, and we became a cult band for the first six years, and gained amazing influence. By the time I was twenty, I’d sold two hundred and fifty thousand records, and yet managed to keep my private and public lives separated. Finally, at age twenty-nine, after a night out drinking with the girls, I accidentally crashed my motorbike into a tree. The whole of the Vessenian speaking world mourned my loss, and I was hailed as a real rock star. That’s the dream, anyway.
The third way was what I was now ninety-nine per cent sure was going to happen. Since the war with Jesnar started, and all the conscription started, I am now sure that I will die on the battlefield, blown up by a Jesnari bomb in Intoh or Genoland. Maybe I’ll be captured and die in a prisoner of war camp. Maybe I’ll be hit by shrapnel or fall from the sky in my shot down aeroplane. In any case, I will die fighting for my country for values I don’t believe in. But I guess it’s better to be killed in battle than be shot for treachery. Maybe I’ll object on moral grounds and die doing hard labour, or run away to West Seminor on a boat. But more than likely, it’ll be this: I will die making sure that Jesnar does not take over the country where I was born.
Well, that was what I assumed would happen, anyway. But it turns out that I’m not allowed a nice, neat death like everyone else. But before I go any further into the present, allow me to explain the past.
Wednesday 17 March 2010
Writing!
So I've managed to get some writing done today, in my Physics class of all places.
Only... instead of managing to write anything interesting and fictional, I wrote a load of cheesy song lyrics.
Well, it marks a change. I have progressed from whiny emo to cheesy pop. Or is that a regression? Aaaaanyhoo, I may stay up late and just do some writing. Because I'm really liking my Vamps-At-War universe, and I need to get fleshing it out.
Only... instead of managing to write anything interesting and fictional, I wrote a load of cheesy song lyrics.
Well, it marks a change. I have progressed from whiny emo to cheesy pop. Or is that a regression? Aaaaanyhoo, I may stay up late and just do some writing. Because I'm really liking my Vamps-At-War universe, and I need to get fleshing it out.
Tuesday 16 March 2010
Stop dreaming. Start (writing) something!
So after a stresful day of French orals (my teacher said he predicts a high A or low A*) and swimming (coming in late and spending ten minutes treading water "playing" water polo), I came home to discover that my 32 Lostprophets posters had arrived from eBay - win.
And that there was a huuuuuge box of French Lindt chocolates that needed eating up... Of course I didn't eat ten of them in one go *cough*
And then, when I booted up the computer, I worked out what had been bugging me for the past week: the Wicked New Writers' Competition. Premice is simple: write a 750-word short story. Deadline closes in July sometime. But that reminded me: some people get their game on - I need to get my write on!
So I've already started trying to puzzle out a plot or something. Thing is, everything I come up with is more suited to a novel rather than a short story.
But I do have another universe worked out - humans at war with vampires. Government conscription means sending more people off every year to "fight" the vampires - really, they're just human sacrifices to appease the vampires and stop them invading. Conscription has certain get-out clauses, depending on whar job you do: think WWII rules... only mean. Convicts got sent to battle. Back home, all the orphanages are full, so prisons are being converted into orphanages. Main character is Bella, a.k.a. Caspar (because she feels like a ghost). I haven't worked out a plot for her yet, but I rather like her universe! ^^
So, expect quite a few writing-orientated blogs while I try and warm up. Also, I have Script Frenzy coming up in April (writing a 100-page script in 30 days). I may make Casper's story into a script. Y'all think she should have a play, a movie, a TV show... what? Feedback in much appreciated, I need to get my arse back in gear for writing!
(P. S. This blog is dedicated to Kath because she told me to go write one, in as many words. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW!)
And that there was a huuuuuge box of French Lindt chocolates that needed eating up... Of course I didn't eat ten of them in one go *cough*
And then, when I booted up the computer, I worked out what had been bugging me for the past week: the Wicked New Writers' Competition. Premice is simple: write a 750-word short story. Deadline closes in July sometime. But that reminded me: some people get their game on - I need to get my write on!
So I've already started trying to puzzle out a plot or something. Thing is, everything I come up with is more suited to a novel rather than a short story.
But I do have another universe worked out - humans at war with vampires. Government conscription means sending more people off every year to "fight" the vampires - really, they're just human sacrifices to appease the vampires and stop them invading. Conscription has certain get-out clauses, depending on whar job you do: think WWII rules... only mean. Convicts got sent to battle. Back home, all the orphanages are full, so prisons are being converted into orphanages. Main character is Bella, a.k.a. Caspar (because she feels like a ghost). I haven't worked out a plot for her yet, but I rather like her universe! ^^
So, expect quite a few writing-orientated blogs while I try and warm up. Also, I have Script Frenzy coming up in April (writing a 100-page script in 30 days). I may make Casper's story into a script. Y'all think she should have a play, a movie, a TV show... what? Feedback in much appreciated, I need to get my arse back in gear for writing!
(P. S. This blog is dedicated to Kath because she told me to go write one, in as many words. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW!)
Wednesday 10 March 2010
one craaaaazy man...
Have a very short blog today.
Eddie Izzard is truly amazing. Actor, comedian, transvestite; one of the few comedians who can crack me up with almost anything he says. He learnt French and German, so he can make audiences laugh in their own language in Europe.
And he ran 1,160-odd miles for Sport Relief; 43 marathons in 51 days. That's a marathon, every day, six days a week, for seven weeks. And despite all the pain and obstacles, he didn't give up. I can remember looking through all the tweets at the time, thinking he was crazy. Well, yes, he really is, but he's also really amazingly brave, and touchingly funny the whole time too.
Just watch this.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00r8zr8/Eddie_Izzard_Marathon_Man_Episode_1/
And if you can, text EDDIE to 70005 to donate £5 to Sports Relief, plus the network rate of 1 text.
But, yeah. All I know for sure is that next time Eddie tours the UK, i am gonna be there, laaaaaaughing. Chicken a la arabiata, anyone?
Eddie Izzard is truly amazing. Actor, comedian, transvestite; one of the few comedians who can crack me up with almost anything he says. He learnt French and German, so he can make audiences laugh in their own language in Europe.
And he ran 1,160-odd miles for Sport Relief; 43 marathons in 51 days. That's a marathon, every day, six days a week, for seven weeks. And despite all the pain and obstacles, he didn't give up. I can remember looking through all the tweets at the time, thinking he was crazy. Well, yes, he really is, but he's also really amazingly brave, and touchingly funny the whole time too.
Just watch this.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00r8zr8/Eddie_Izzard_Marathon_Man_Episode_1/
And if you can, text EDDIE to 70005 to donate £5 to Sports Relief, plus the network rate of 1 text.
But, yeah. All I know for sure is that next time Eddie tours the UK, i am gonna be there, laaaaaaughing. Chicken a la arabiata, anyone?
Wednesday 3 March 2010
I'm sleeping so little these days, I guess this is growing up...
Fuck growing up. I wanna be a teenager forever.
Yes, I have developed Peter Pan syndrome at age 15. I have less than 2 weeks till my GCSE French Orals and I don't know a bloody word. Every lesson I have, homework is being piled onto us and we're expected to do it, and be grateful for the experience - nay, pay for it! No, seriously dude, if I was forced to bring 2 hours of work home with me after a paid day of work, I'd be pissed.
See, I've got to grow old (unless I die before then o_O) but, as a great man once said, growing up is optional. I'll probably remain kidlike forever, whining about irrelevant stuff, craving attention and getting pissed at how much money footballers earn (seriously, what the FUCK?!). I'll spend all the money I earn on gigs - though with any luck, I might be working in a career where going to gigs is my job. (That reminds me, I still need to find that business card.)
But yeah. I'm overworked, stressed, and craving someone just doing something nice and unsollicited. I mean, it's all very well saying I want a hug and getting a hug, but it's totally different just getting one spontaneously, you know?
Lastly, I'm pissed I'm missing Ispystrangers in Luton, because I don't have anyone to go with. Graaaargh. But I have Don Broco and my wife around on Friday, and FTSK on Monday. That should cheer me up aye?
Yes, I have developed Peter Pan syndrome at age 15. I have less than 2 weeks till my GCSE French Orals and I don't know a bloody word. Every lesson I have, homework is being piled onto us and we're expected to do it, and be grateful for the experience - nay, pay for it! No, seriously dude, if I was forced to bring 2 hours of work home with me after a paid day of work, I'd be pissed.
See, I've got to grow old (unless I die before then o_O) but, as a great man once said, growing up is optional. I'll probably remain kidlike forever, whining about irrelevant stuff, craving attention and getting pissed at how much money footballers earn (seriously, what the FUCK?!). I'll spend all the money I earn on gigs - though with any luck, I might be working in a career where going to gigs is my job. (That reminds me, I still need to find that business card.)
But yeah. I'm overworked, stressed, and craving someone just doing something nice and unsollicited. I mean, it's all very well saying I want a hug and getting a hug, but it's totally different just getting one spontaneously, you know?
Lastly, I'm pissed I'm missing Ispystrangers in Luton, because I don't have anyone to go with. Graaaargh. But I have Don Broco and my wife around on Friday, and FTSK on Monday. That should cheer me up aye?
Sunday 28 February 2010
#becauseoflostprophets
#becauseoflostprophets I am who I am today.
#becauseoflostprophets I have been to Birmingham, Edinburgh and Cambridge and met some absolutely awesome people :)
#becauseoflostprophets I now have an English essay to finish, because I was too busy seeing them gig in half term to do any work.
The world is a better place #becauseoflostprophets
I can honestly say I developed an unhealthy and expensive love of Welsh bands #becauseoflostprophets
This is weird. #becauseoflostprophets is 2nd in the UK but nowhere worldwide, and #becauseofjls is 7th worldwide and nowhere in the UK. wtf?
#becauseoflostprophets I have changed my trending list from Worldwide to UK, just so I can see them in the TTs :)
#becauseoflostprophets there is an amazing Welsh music scene :) Though that might not all be just their cause haha
#becauseoflostprophets I sort of want to get the last train home.
#becauseoflostprophets I giggle whenever I have a plastic knife (and I get weird looks)
#becauseoflostprophets me and @PositivelyLost have found Superman ;]
#becauseoflostprophets I have danced on stage in front of 3,000 with @_telenovela
#becauseoflostprophets I had my eyes opened to a wider world of music.
I am currently procrastinating #becauseoflostprophets (and formspring)
#becauseoflostprophets @Cherifly thinks @jockojohnson is a sexy beast. Hooooooo dear.
#becauseoflostprophets my Kitty Hat has become nicknamed The Mouse Hat.
#becauseoflostprophets @VeryWittyName read my blog and became a good friend of mine :D
#becauseoflostprophets I had awesome-fun Travelodge Timez (tm)!
#becauseoflostprophets I now have a really spammed Twitter Feed. Sorry!
#becauseoflostprophets I had discussions about pews flying everywhere via a church moshpit with @PositivelyLost sitting on my lap :D
#becauseoflostprophets Ian Watkins told me off for being unable to stop giggling at a joke that @rubberubberduck made about flying pews. :')
#becauseoflostprophets we have too many injokes. JAM AND CREAM!
#becauseoflostprophets being the number 1 TT in the UK, i am now neglecting my homework. My teacher would feel so #thebetrayed ;D
#becauseoflostprophets My wife just tweeted "#becauseofmywife" and made me giggle so much that it's now obvious I'm not doing my coursework
#becauseoflostprophets i have skipped 2 days of school and probably failed my maths test as a direct result :'D
#becauseoflostprophets @_telenovela tweeted something which made me choke on my cup of tea and start crying in laughter
#becauseoflostprophets I spent my entire February wishing I was somewhere else so I could see them live.
#becauseoflostprophets I know all the words to #thebetrayed and got such happy looks from @LeeGazeProphets for singing along so loudly :')
#becauseoflostprophets far too many teenage girls (and boys) want to do bad things to @ian_watkins
@Cherifly #becauseoflostprophets all people from Birmingham are now known as DIRTY BRUMMIES. I blame #sturichardsonISsuperman.
just typed "she had demonic possesion #becauseoflostprophets" in my english essay. FAIL.
because of my #becauseoflostprophets tweets, @rubberubberduck may soon have a broken keyboard
#becauseofStephProphets #becauseoflostprophets is a trending topic. YOU GO @STEPHPROPHETS COCO!
4 FOR YOU STEPH COCO! RT:@PositivelyLost #becauseofStephProphets #becauseoflostprophets is a trending topic. YOU GO @STEPHPROPHETS COCO!
... what's a rower doing above #becauseoflostprophets?
#becauseoflostprophets i now groan every time I hear the word "rinse".
#becauseoflostprophets I have the confidence to be myself and not follow the crowd :)
#becauseoflostprophets I have something beautiful to listen to while I fall asleep #thebetrayed
#becauseoflostprophets I'm not afraid to dance like a loon and sing my heart out at gigs :')
... I have a lot to thank them for, don't I? And, judging by the fact it reached Number 1 TT for a while, I'm guessing a lot of other people do to <3
#becauseoflostprophets I have been to Birmingham, Edinburgh and Cambridge and met some absolutely awesome people :)
#becauseoflostprophets I now have an English essay to finish, because I was too busy seeing them gig in half term to do any work.
The world is a better place #becauseoflostprophets
I can honestly say I developed an unhealthy and expensive love of Welsh bands #becauseoflostprophets
This is weird. #becauseoflostprophets is 2nd in the UK but nowhere worldwide, and #becauseofjls is 7th worldwide and nowhere in the UK. wtf?
#becauseoflostprophets I have changed my trending list from Worldwide to UK, just so I can see them in the TTs :)
#becauseoflostprophets there is an amazing Welsh music scene :) Though that might not all be just their cause haha
#becauseoflostprophets I sort of want to get the last train home.
#becauseoflostprophets I giggle whenever I have a plastic knife (and I get weird looks)
#becauseoflostprophets me and @PositivelyLost have found Superman ;]
#becauseoflostprophets I have danced on stage in front of 3,000 with @_telenovela
#becauseoflostprophets I had my eyes opened to a wider world of music.
I am currently procrastinating #becauseoflostprophets (and formspring)
#becauseoflostprophets @Cherifly thinks @jockojohnson is a sexy beast. Hooooooo dear.
#becauseoflostprophets my Kitty Hat has become nicknamed The Mouse Hat.
#becauseoflostprophets @VeryWittyName read my blog and became a good friend of mine :D
#becauseoflostprophets I had awesome-fun Travelodge Timez (tm)!
#becauseoflostprophets I now have a really spammed Twitter Feed. Sorry!
#becauseoflostprophets I had discussions about pews flying everywhere via a church moshpit with @PositivelyLost sitting on my lap :D
#becauseoflostprophets Ian Watkins told me off for being unable to stop giggling at a joke that @rubberubberduck made about flying pews. :')
#becauseoflostprophets we have too many injokes. JAM AND CREAM!
#becauseoflostprophets being the number 1 TT in the UK, i am now neglecting my homework. My teacher would feel so #thebetrayed ;D
#becauseoflostprophets My wife just tweeted "#becauseofmywife" and made me giggle so much that it's now obvious I'm not doing my coursework
#becauseoflostprophets i have skipped 2 days of school and probably failed my maths test as a direct result :'D
#becauseoflostprophets @_telenovela tweeted something which made me choke on my cup of tea and start crying in laughter
#becauseoflostprophets I spent my entire February wishing I was somewhere else so I could see them live.
#becauseoflostprophets I know all the words to #thebetrayed and got such happy looks from @LeeGazeProphets for singing along so loudly :')
#becauseoflostprophets far too many teenage girls (and boys) want to do bad things to @ian_watkins
@Cherifly #becauseoflostprophets all people from Birmingham are now known as DIRTY BRUMMIES. I blame #sturichardsonISsuperman.
just typed "she had demonic possesion #becauseoflostprophets" in my english essay. FAIL.
because of my #becauseoflostprophets tweets, @rubberubberduck may soon have a broken keyboard
#becauseofStephProphets #becauseoflostprophets is a trending topic. YOU GO @STEPHPROPHETS COCO!
4 FOR YOU STEPH COCO! RT:@PositivelyLost #becauseofStephProphets #becauseoflostprophets is a trending topic. YOU GO @STEPHPROPHETS COCO!
... what's a rower doing above #becauseoflostprophets?
#becauseoflostprophets i now groan every time I hear the word "rinse".
#becauseoflostprophets I have the confidence to be myself and not follow the crowd :)
#becauseoflostprophets I have something beautiful to listen to while I fall asleep #thebetrayed
#becauseoflostprophets I'm not afraid to dance like a loon and sing my heart out at gigs :')
... I have a lot to thank them for, don't I? And, judging by the fact it reached Number 1 TT for a while, I'm guessing a lot of other people do to <3
Friday 26 February 2010
It's Friday I'm in love... (never mind it's now Saturday)
This blog comes to you in three parts.
Part One: Edinburgh
I should really post my Edinburgh tour blog, but... you know when you don't want to put things into words because it devalues the event? Edinburgh kind of feels like that. I've posted all about Cambridge and Birmingham (the best night of the tour for me), but Edinburgh, though it was more low-key, is something i'm not sure I can describe because it was so unlike a normal gig day.
Part Two: my bank account
Speaking of gigs, there is a good reason why my bank account is currently so empty (read: i have about £100 in there. That's the least I've had in there in about 7 years. This time last year, I had nearly £500. I get maybe £150 a year in christmas/birthday gifts). I have spent almost all my worldly wealth on seeing my favourite bands. This wouldn't be so bad... if I wasn't a student without a job. As soon as I turn 16 I am going to annoy everyone I know until I get a job. Before that - well, I don't know. Bank of Mum and Dad is getting seriously overused. I may have to try babysitting or something equally as atrocious. I know I can't legally help out at most gigs for money until I'm 18 because of insurance from venues, but maybe I'll have a word with my bosses and see if they know anywhere I could get paid grunt work.
Part Three: just general stuff
I miss my friends. I miss some of the most incredible times I've had.
The past year has been the best year of my life. I've made so many great friends, met so many amazing people, seen so many wonderful things. I've had the best nights of my life topped and topped again, and I've got to know myself better. This time last year I was pretty shy and reclusive, but I also had no concept of limits. I'm more confident now, but also more respectful.
It's also been the worst year of my life. Hormones have hit me hard and I can recall a lot more dark times in the past year than I can at almost any other time. I might be a more confident person but I don't know if I'm a better person. I'm also more arrogant, and I've stopped caring how people (except those close to me) see me. I'm eternally stressed now, whereas I used to be carefree. And I've lost some people very dear to me and I don't know how to rebuild the bridges, or if there's even much point if they won't be willing to try and rebuild them too.
I miss being able to be silly and free, and I miss not having things to look forward to. Does that make sense? I used to love just hanging in the present day. Now I'm always thinking about the future, anticipating the next time i get to see the people i love and the next time I'll get the adrenaline rush of live music.
This blog was utterly pointless but hey, maybe reading it, you'll get to understand my mind a bit better.
Part One: Edinburgh
I should really post my Edinburgh tour blog, but... you know when you don't want to put things into words because it devalues the event? Edinburgh kind of feels like that. I've posted all about Cambridge and Birmingham (the best night of the tour for me), but Edinburgh, though it was more low-key, is something i'm not sure I can describe because it was so unlike a normal gig day.
Part Two: my bank account
Speaking of gigs, there is a good reason why my bank account is currently so empty (read: i have about £100 in there. That's the least I've had in there in about 7 years. This time last year, I had nearly £500. I get maybe £150 a year in christmas/birthday gifts). I have spent almost all my worldly wealth on seeing my favourite bands. This wouldn't be so bad... if I wasn't a student without a job. As soon as I turn 16 I am going to annoy everyone I know until I get a job. Before that - well, I don't know. Bank of Mum and Dad is getting seriously overused. I may have to try babysitting or something equally as atrocious. I know I can't legally help out at most gigs for money until I'm 18 because of insurance from venues, but maybe I'll have a word with my bosses and see if they know anywhere I could get paid grunt work.
Part Three: just general stuff
I miss my friends. I miss some of the most incredible times I've had.
The past year has been the best year of my life. I've made so many great friends, met so many amazing people, seen so many wonderful things. I've had the best nights of my life topped and topped again, and I've got to know myself better. This time last year I was pretty shy and reclusive, but I also had no concept of limits. I'm more confident now, but also more respectful.
It's also been the worst year of my life. Hormones have hit me hard and I can recall a lot more dark times in the past year than I can at almost any other time. I might be a more confident person but I don't know if I'm a better person. I'm also more arrogant, and I've stopped caring how people (except those close to me) see me. I'm eternally stressed now, whereas I used to be carefree. And I've lost some people very dear to me and I don't know how to rebuild the bridges, or if there's even much point if they won't be willing to try and rebuild them too.
I miss being able to be silly and free, and I miss not having things to look forward to. Does that make sense? I used to love just hanging in the present day. Now I'm always thinking about the future, anticipating the next time i get to see the people i love and the next time I'll get the adrenaline rush of live music.
This blog was utterly pointless but hey, maybe reading it, you'll get to understand my mind a bit better.
Monday 22 February 2010
"STOP TRYING TO MAKE FETCH HAPPEN, ALED!"
So right now I am holed up in a three star hotel in Edinburgh.
Wow. Wow. Lostprophets in Birmingham. This is tour blog 2/3. Just... wow. Okay, let's see what i can manage.
(Note - this post was done in two parts... and I am now no longer in the hotel.)
Pre-gig:
- Getting up at 8. A positively late start.
- Reaching Brum at around 11 in the rain and sleet and crappy weather
- Getting stranded on the wrong side of the junction and having to beg Kath to come walk me across the underpasses to the Academy
- Realising very quickly that Birmingham in the rain is naaaasty
- Meeting various awesome people who I hadn't met before properly ^^
- Large fries and a muffin in Macdonalds. Nom.
- Getting very wet and sheltering with the Boys Like Girl queue because there was cover!
- Going to Macdonalds again and drying off hoodies/hair/hands under the hand dryers
- Kath passing out on a hand dryer.
- MEAN GIRLS QUOTES ALL DAY!
- Giving up and slumming back to the travelodge witth Aimee and Susie
- Susie dying for an hour.
- Getting back to the gig to a surprising lack of rain.
Gig:
- Getting in to be front row on the left, probably in front of Stu. Pretty decent.
- Slapping the security guard!
- "I love this girl. She has ISSUES!"
- Sharks sounding like The Clash. Pretty decent
- The, um... interesting dancing of the guitarist
- Wondering how old Sharks were (they looked like they were skipping school)
- Spending the entire set trying to work out who the lead singer reminded me of and I still don't know
- Aled being aliiiiiive in Kids' set!
- Having a good ol' fashioned dance and singalong
- Calling various friends and hoping they could hear it
- Mean girls quotes!
- Susie ending up with Aled's stomach in her face and commenting on its lack of squishiness
- Still not beating Leeds in the singalong (BOO!)
- The eternal cheering for Jocko!
- The whole atmosphere... it was amazing.
- "THEY WALKED ON STAGE" - Zoe's contribution to this blog.
- START SOMETHING!
- "Jocko! Jocko! Jocko! Jocko!"
"If you love him so much then why don't you get on stage and encircle him?"
- Getting lifted onstage by the security guard with the lobster red arms (he was the one we'd slapped) and getting deposited in front of Mr Watkins
- Ian staring at me as I scrabbled to my feet most inelegantly.
- Getting dragged onto the riders by Jay after I got lost
- Susie coming up too and a girl called Jad
- Epic grins from all the band
- Jocko being just... excited!
- Ian telling us to sit down and the three of us flatly refusing
- Jay laughing at my DANCE JAY, DANCE! sign
- Doing the Jay dance and singing along to Town Called Hypocrisy and generally making a twat of ourselves infront of 3000 people
- Being filmed by KEITH! (who is rad)
- Getting ushered backstage off the stage
- Adam the barman. A guy who knew all the words. EPIC.
- Moshpit for Shinobi!
- The Light. Just... words cannot describe. <3
Post-gig:
- Begging a plectrum off the security guard :D
- Confusion and hanging out in the wrong place for an hour >.>
- Meeting up with Fran, which was rad, and eating pizza.
- Going round the back and finding everyone
- Jay's drunkeness and general awesomeness... including nearly getting run over, and physically becoming speechless when he talked about wounded soldiers.
- Jocko literally running away but stopping to give me a hug
- Lee stopping to give me a hug and have a very quick chat. I gave him my letter but I have no idea if he's read it or not. Ah well.
- Jay yelling at Sketch and Zoe for getting cold. It was amusing. He practically offered them money for Travelodge rooms.
- Wandering back to Travelodge for sleep and managing to fit 8 people into a room. GOOD TIMES.
And that's about it. I think.
It. Was. AWESOME.
Wow. Wow. Lostprophets in Birmingham. This is tour blog 2/3. Just... wow. Okay, let's see what i can manage.
(Note - this post was done in two parts... and I am now no longer in the hotel.)
Pre-gig:
- Getting up at 8. A positively late start.
- Reaching Brum at around 11 in the rain and sleet and crappy weather
- Getting stranded on the wrong side of the junction and having to beg Kath to come walk me across the underpasses to the Academy
- Realising very quickly that Birmingham in the rain is naaaasty
- Meeting various awesome people who I hadn't met before properly ^^
- Large fries and a muffin in Macdonalds. Nom.
- Getting very wet and sheltering with the Boys Like Girl queue because there was cover!
- Going to Macdonalds again and drying off hoodies/hair/hands under the hand dryers
- Kath passing out on a hand dryer.
- MEAN GIRLS QUOTES ALL DAY!
- Giving up and slumming back to the travelodge witth Aimee and Susie
- Susie dying for an hour.
- Getting back to the gig to a surprising lack of rain.
Gig:
- Getting in to be front row on the left, probably in front of Stu. Pretty decent.
- Slapping the security guard!
- "I love this girl. She has ISSUES!"
- Sharks sounding like The Clash. Pretty decent
- The, um... interesting dancing of the guitarist
- Wondering how old Sharks were (they looked like they were skipping school)
- Spending the entire set trying to work out who the lead singer reminded me of and I still don't know
- Aled being aliiiiiive in Kids' set!
- Having a good ol' fashioned dance and singalong
- Calling various friends and hoping they could hear it
- Mean girls quotes!
- Susie ending up with Aled's stomach in her face and commenting on its lack of squishiness
- Still not beating Leeds in the singalong (BOO!)
- The eternal cheering for Jocko!
- The whole atmosphere... it was amazing.
- "THEY WALKED ON STAGE" - Zoe's contribution to this blog.
- START SOMETHING!
- "Jocko! Jocko! Jocko! Jocko!"
"If you love him so much then why don't you get on stage and encircle him?"
- Getting lifted onstage by the security guard with the lobster red arms (he was the one we'd slapped) and getting deposited in front of Mr Watkins
- Ian staring at me as I scrabbled to my feet most inelegantly.
- Getting dragged onto the riders by Jay after I got lost
- Susie coming up too and a girl called Jad
- Epic grins from all the band
- Jocko being just... excited!
- Ian telling us to sit down and the three of us flatly refusing
- Jay laughing at my DANCE JAY, DANCE! sign
- Doing the Jay dance and singing along to Town Called Hypocrisy and generally making a twat of ourselves infront of 3000 people
- Being filmed by KEITH! (who is rad)
- Getting ushered backstage off the stage
- Adam the barman. A guy who knew all the words. EPIC.
- Moshpit for Shinobi!
- The Light. Just... words cannot describe. <3
Post-gig:
- Begging a plectrum off the security guard :D
- Confusion and hanging out in the wrong place for an hour >.>
- Meeting up with Fran, which was rad, and eating pizza.
- Going round the back and finding everyone
- Jay's drunkeness and general awesomeness... including nearly getting run over, and physically becoming speechless when he talked about wounded soldiers.
- Jocko literally running away but stopping to give me a hug
- Lee stopping to give me a hug and have a very quick chat. I gave him my letter but I have no idea if he's read it or not. Ah well.
- Jay yelling at Sketch and Zoe for getting cold. It was amusing. He practically offered them money for Travelodge rooms.
- Wandering back to Travelodge for sleep and managing to fit 8 people into a room. GOOD TIMES.
And that's about it. I think.
It. Was. AWESOME.
Tuesday 16 February 2010
(I Want You To Be) Mine
I started humming something earlier which was kind of catchy, and I had some words floating around my head, and this was the end result. I think the melody and rhythm rips off Paramore of The Audition or someone like that but hey, it worked out fairly well...
Dedicated to my best friends in the world. You all know who you are.
(I Want You To Be) Mine
I feel like I’ve known you all my life
Like I’ve been in your company
For seven years now
I feel like I could hold you tonight
For a month or a century
You are my dear now
I know that I shouldn’t wish away the days
Until I see you again
And I know it’s selfish but I want you
All to myself
I want you to be mine
Dance, dance, dance with me for a weekend
With me until we can’t walk
On our own two feet
Laugh, laugh, laugh with me behind your hand
Break it down for some small talk
With strangers we meet
I know that I shouldn’t wish away the days
Until I see you again
And I know it’s selfish but I want you
All to myself
I want you to be mine
(You are my best friend
You are my best friend)
Dance with me, dance with me, dance with me,
Dance, dance, dance
Be with me, be with me, be with me,
Stay with me
I don’t care what we do
As long as I’m with you
It’ll be just like heaven
(You are my best friend
You are my best friend)
I know that I shouldn’t wish away the days (you are my best friend)
Until I see you again (you are my best friend)
And I know it’s selfish but I want you (you are my best friend)
All to myself (my best friend)
I want you to be mine (my best friend)
Dedicated to my best friends in the world. You all know who you are.
(I Want You To Be) Mine
I feel like I’ve known you all my life
Like I’ve been in your company
For seven years now
I feel like I could hold you tonight
For a month or a century
You are my dear now
I know that I shouldn’t wish away the days
Until I see you again
And I know it’s selfish but I want you
All to myself
I want you to be mine
Dance, dance, dance with me for a weekend
With me until we can’t walk
On our own two feet
Laugh, laugh, laugh with me behind your hand
Break it down for some small talk
With strangers we meet
I know that I shouldn’t wish away the days
Until I see you again
And I know it’s selfish but I want you
All to myself
I want you to be mine
(You are my best friend
You are my best friend)
Dance with me, dance with me, dance with me,
Dance, dance, dance
Be with me, be with me, be with me,
Stay with me
I don’t care what we do
As long as I’m with you
It’ll be just like heaven
(You are my best friend
You are my best friend)
I know that I shouldn’t wish away the days (you are my best friend)
Until I see you again (you are my best friend)
And I know it’s selfish but I want you (you are my best friend)
All to myself (my best friend)
I want you to be mine (my best friend)
Reasons why I want to be on tour...
After 2 gigs in 4 days, I'm now looking forward to 2 gigs in 3 days. Lostprophets are playing 4 gigs in 5 days and I'm going to 3 of them. This makes me more excited than I can articulate.
So, Tour Week started off yesterday with Cambridge.
Pre-gig:
- Getting woken up at 6am... then 6.05... then 6.10... then 6.15... then 6.20... Finally getting up at 6.25
- The mad panic of leaving the house at 7am to get to the station in time
- Trying and failing to fall asleep on the 7.27 train to Cambridge because someone was eating almonds really loudly behind me.
- Free extra cream and chocolate on my latte at Cambridge station (win)
- Walking down to the Junction before realising this meant I'd gone 20 minutes in the wrong direction
- Arriving a bit after 9 at the Corn Exchange
- Realising I knew Annie and Chloe at the front of the queue
- Huge, free tour posters being given out XD
- Ian Watkins' HAIR HOTLINE. "Hi, you have reached Ian Watkins' hair hotline. Press 1 if you think I looked awesome with a fauxhawk. Press 2 if you think I should wear a hat more often. Press 3 if you loved my blond stripes. Press 0 at any time for more options. Press 4 if you love my quiff. Press 5 if you think I have dandruff. You have pressed 5... I DO NOT HAVE DANDRUFF BITCH!"
- Buying a 5ft Welsh flag at the market for eight quid XD
- More coffee with free cream!
- Susie (KATH!!!) arriving with far too much Valentine's stuff for me :')
- Giving Kath her Valentine and watching her face light up
- Panda arriving!
- Jay and Jocko walking past but too quickly for me to give them my letter.
- Frequently getting asked by people if we were protesting (I love Cambridge) snd only being asked if we were homeless when we said no.
- Chatting to a gay guy in Lush about Lostprophets and how he went to the same high school as Stu. His dad worked at the same place as Stu's dad, too!
- "I feel so old!" "It's nostalgia night at Lush!"
- Buying Millie's Cookies, and Kath buying a huge multicoloured hoodie from a sports shop. Good times.
- Having Panda do my makeup
- Getting covered in glitter in the toilets
- It started snowing... "OMG IT'S IAN WATKINS' DANDRUFF!"
- Eating really nice food (pizza, dough balls, and chocolate fudge cake) for a tenner at a little restaurant opposite the venue. Did I mention I love Cambridge?
- "Eat?" "Why, are you trying to fatten me up?" "Yup!"
- Being the first into the gig and walking to the barrier. Not running. Walking.
Gig:
- Laughing at We Are The Ocean and spying Jocko and Lee sidestage
- Getting metal hands and a huge grin off Lee \m/
- Getting metal hands off Alfie, the guitarist
- Calling Sam for a couple of songs
- Poking Dan in the leg every time he came and sang on the barrier in front of us
- Dan crowdsurfing... and getting lost in the crowd... and re-appearing 10 minutes after their set finished
- Aled not being quite as dead in Kids' set!
- Calling my friends and having an awesome singalong
- Jocko laughing from sidestage at me and Kath doing the macerena
- Shay grinning madly at everyone who was dancing
- "We have a singalong challenge every night. So far Leeds are winning. You beat them in education, can you beat them in singing?" "FUCK LEEDS!" "Alright, calm down love!"
- Kath putting up the Valentine's card I made her with Sunshine lyrics on it and turning it over madly so it matched what Aled was singing
- Singing "Monday" instead of Saturday
- Getting a setlist :D
- Befriending a photographer and getting a sort-of job offer from her magazine - I have her business card with a photo of Jack Barakat on it.
- Lee stealing Ian's white jeans XD
- Epic fun just... dancing and singing and waving various Welsh flags
- Ian's reaction to my sign
- Mike seeing my sign for him and just shrugging in response. Yeah, I'm too cool to wear Nikes...
- Getting splattered by Ian spitting out water. Yay... wet
- OMEN! It's an omeeeeeen!
- JAY'S EPIC DANCING AND DRINKING
- Spending A Thousand Apologies just air-scratching records
- Getting mega-huge grins off Lee
- Stu spending the whole set looking like he needed his Superman cape billowing behind him, just grinning like yeaaaaah
- Yelling random shizzle at Ian and having him stare at us... so Panda got into an argument with him. And won.
- Happy birthday to Keith!
- Jocko giving me a wave when I spent half one of the songs just grinning at him
- "Can you play ballroom music on there? What about bar brawl music?" "No but I can play this!"
- Last Train Home... too beautiful
- "PLAY GODZILLA, DAMMIT!" It started off with just me and Panda, but we managed to get the chant going enough to get them to play Godzilla. Hellyeah!
- Ian pretending to be deaf when the crowd cried for Shinobi
- The Light That Shines Twice As Bright as the encore, holding Kath's hand and calling Vikki. <3
Post-gig:
- Kath finding an LP plectrum on the floor
- Walking past Joel at the doors out
- Phil coming up to Kath and telling her that he loved her sign ^^
- Chatting to Aled - I got a cwtch and my setlist signed,
- Aled proceeding to wish Kath a happy anniversary for her 10th show and signing her valentine's card and sticker... when really Shay should've signed her card XD "He's the only guy you'd ever go straight for!"
- Having a long and detailed discussion about the Hertfordshire music scene with Alfie from We Are The Ocean: "You've got Hitchin at the top which is My Passion country, St Albans in the middle which is Enter Shikari country, and the south is..." "Watford, Gallows country!"
- Alfie guessing I was 18 or 19... he's only just turned 18 himself, bless'im.
- Chatting to Dan about getting lost in the crowd and laughing at him
All in all, it was a mighty, mighty good day.
And I want it to happen every day for two weeks, for a month, for half a year. I want to get a job as a tech and scramble around gathering up cables and adjusting mikes. I want to be a merch girl, sorting out the tshirts and hats and display board. But most of all, I want to be a journalist and document my travels with whichever band I end up with. I want to tell the world about every amusing detail I can find, so that everyone else who wishes they were on tour too can feel like they are.
One day I'll be on a tour. I promise. For now, I'll have to put up with the £200 or so of expenses that comes part and parcel with Tour Week.
And I cannot bloody wait.
So, Tour Week started off yesterday with Cambridge.
Pre-gig:
- Getting woken up at 6am... then 6.05... then 6.10... then 6.15... then 6.20... Finally getting up at 6.25
- The mad panic of leaving the house at 7am to get to the station in time
- Trying and failing to fall asleep on the 7.27 train to Cambridge because someone was eating almonds really loudly behind me.
- Free extra cream and chocolate on my latte at Cambridge station (win)
- Walking down to the Junction before realising this meant I'd gone 20 minutes in the wrong direction
- Arriving a bit after 9 at the Corn Exchange
- Realising I knew Annie and Chloe at the front of the queue
- Huge, free tour posters being given out XD
- Ian Watkins' HAIR HOTLINE. "Hi, you have reached Ian Watkins' hair hotline. Press 1 if you think I looked awesome with a fauxhawk. Press 2 if you think I should wear a hat more often. Press 3 if you loved my blond stripes. Press 0 at any time for more options. Press 4 if you love my quiff. Press 5 if you think I have dandruff. You have pressed 5... I DO NOT HAVE DANDRUFF BITCH!"
- Buying a 5ft Welsh flag at the market for eight quid XD
- More coffee with free cream!
- Susie (KATH!!!) arriving with far too much Valentine's stuff for me :')
- Giving Kath her Valentine and watching her face light up
- Panda arriving!
- Jay and Jocko walking past but too quickly for me to give them my letter.
- Frequently getting asked by people if we were protesting (I love Cambridge) snd only being asked if we were homeless when we said no.
- Chatting to a gay guy in Lush about Lostprophets and how he went to the same high school as Stu. His dad worked at the same place as Stu's dad, too!
- "I feel so old!" "It's nostalgia night at Lush!"
- Buying Millie's Cookies, and Kath buying a huge multicoloured hoodie from a sports shop. Good times.
- Having Panda do my makeup
- Getting covered in glitter in the toilets
- It started snowing... "OMG IT'S IAN WATKINS' DANDRUFF!"
- Eating really nice food (pizza, dough balls, and chocolate fudge cake) for a tenner at a little restaurant opposite the venue. Did I mention I love Cambridge?
- "Eat?" "Why, are you trying to fatten me up?" "Yup!"
- Being the first into the gig and walking to the barrier. Not running. Walking.
Gig:
- Laughing at We Are The Ocean and spying Jocko and Lee sidestage
- Getting metal hands and a huge grin off Lee \m/
- Getting metal hands off Alfie, the guitarist
- Calling Sam for a couple of songs
- Poking Dan in the leg every time he came and sang on the barrier in front of us
- Dan crowdsurfing... and getting lost in the crowd... and re-appearing 10 minutes after their set finished
- Aled not being quite as dead in Kids' set!
- Calling my friends and having an awesome singalong
- Jocko laughing from sidestage at me and Kath doing the macerena
- Shay grinning madly at everyone who was dancing
- "We have a singalong challenge every night. So far Leeds are winning. You beat them in education, can you beat them in singing?" "FUCK LEEDS!" "Alright, calm down love!"
- Kath putting up the Valentine's card I made her with Sunshine lyrics on it and turning it over madly so it matched what Aled was singing
- Singing "Monday" instead of Saturday
- Getting a setlist :D
- Befriending a photographer and getting a sort-of job offer from her magazine - I have her business card with a photo of Jack Barakat on it.
- Lee stealing Ian's white jeans XD
- Epic fun just... dancing and singing and waving various Welsh flags
- Ian's reaction to my sign
- Mike seeing my sign for him and just shrugging in response. Yeah, I'm too cool to wear Nikes...
- Getting splattered by Ian spitting out water. Yay... wet
- OMEN! It's an omeeeeeen!
- JAY'S EPIC DANCING AND DRINKING
- Spending A Thousand Apologies just air-scratching records
- Getting mega-huge grins off Lee
- Stu spending the whole set looking like he needed his Superman cape billowing behind him, just grinning like yeaaaaah
- Yelling random shizzle at Ian and having him stare at us... so Panda got into an argument with him. And won.
- Happy birthday to Keith!
- Jocko giving me a wave when I spent half one of the songs just grinning at him
- "Can you play ballroom music on there? What about bar brawl music?" "No but I can play this!"
- Last Train Home... too beautiful
- "PLAY GODZILLA, DAMMIT!" It started off with just me and Panda, but we managed to get the chant going enough to get them to play Godzilla. Hellyeah!
- Ian pretending to be deaf when the crowd cried for Shinobi
- The Light That Shines Twice As Bright as the encore, holding Kath's hand and calling Vikki. <3
Post-gig:
- Kath finding an LP plectrum on the floor
- Walking past Joel at the doors out
- Phil coming up to Kath and telling her that he loved her sign ^^
- Chatting to Aled - I got a cwtch and my setlist signed,
- Aled proceeding to wish Kath a happy anniversary for her 10th show and signing her valentine's card and sticker... when really Shay should've signed her card XD "He's the only guy you'd ever go straight for!"
- Having a long and detailed discussion about the Hertfordshire music scene with Alfie from We Are The Ocean: "You've got Hitchin at the top which is My Passion country, St Albans in the middle which is Enter Shikari country, and the south is..." "Watford, Gallows country!"
- Alfie guessing I was 18 or 19... he's only just turned 18 himself, bless'im.
- Chatting to Dan about getting lost in the crowd and laughing at him
All in all, it was a mighty, mighty good day.
And I want it to happen every day for two weeks, for a month, for half a year. I want to get a job as a tech and scramble around gathering up cables and adjusting mikes. I want to be a merch girl, sorting out the tshirts and hats and display board. But most of all, I want to be a journalist and document my travels with whichever band I end up with. I want to tell the world about every amusing detail I can find, so that everyone else who wishes they were on tour too can feel like they are.
One day I'll be on a tour. I promise. For now, I'll have to put up with the £200 or so of expenses that comes part and parcel with Tour Week.
And I cannot bloody wait.
Friday 12 February 2010
Apparently my ideal life centres around my husband and nothing else.
Lostprophets was too awesome for words, so I may try to articulate it tomorrow. Today, you get a rant.
Yay? Have you missed them? If you have then... I'm not sure whether to be honoured or sad.
But first, a sidenote - I fell asleep in the brown chair in my living room today and had the best dream I'd had in a while. Yeah, it involved the LPizzles. Stu got a cape and turned into Superman; Ian ended up protecting the modesty of girls wearing skirts in windy weather; Lee had a huge grin all over his face, and of course all the 'Prophetlets had started a band at the tender age of a couple of weeks/months/years old (seriously, there should so be a Lostprophets Junior with their kids. Lee's son Daniyal is destined to be an epic drummer).
Today, in PSHE (Personal Social Health education... basically everyone talking to each other about "issues" and pretending not to feel awkward), our lesson started off by everyone lying down on the floor. Everyone sat there looking heartbroken for ten minutes whingeing about the crumbs while I was lying on my back having a nice doze. By the time everyone had spread out and settled down, our teacher decided to take us on an "imaginary voyage" through our dream life.
Right, I thought, this'll be fun. I instantly pictured myself beside a tour bus, laughing with one of my favourite bands as their friend or tech or both. I was cheerfully getting lost in my daydream when I heard my teacher's voice.
"Imagine your ideal man. Your potential husband."
Fuck, I know I'm not getting married! And though if I do end up with a long time lover then, though it'll probably be a guy, there's a pretty good chance it could be a girl as well. This, and who said my dream even involved being romantically involved with anyone anyway? I could just be single, footloose and fancy free, for the rest of my life. So straight away, I was pissed off with this. Our teacher assumed that, in our ideal life, our careers and ambitions played second fiddle to getting a guy.
Well... Okay, I could just about put up with this. I guess a guy could be part of my dream. I conjured up an image of my current biggest crush (Gus, OBVS), and settled back into my sleepy daze.
"How would he date you? How would he propose to you? What would the wedding be like?"
Um... what? So this isn't our dream future life, it's our dream future life if we were living a hundred years ago when all we had to hope for was a nice young man and a nice house. My dream future is so much more than just a lover. Sure, I've never been in love, and it'd probably be pretty damn rad, but would it really dictate my future life? If it was a choice between my friends and my love, well, I'd go for my friends as I love them all so much, and who says that friendship love is any less than romantic love anyway?
"Where would you live after you got married? And maybe, after a few years of being together, you'd have kids? Have many?"
Um, did you notice the whole I'm-not-getting-married thing? And kids ~after I'm married? What if I want kids and never want to get married? Does that make my life not ideal, not my dream, less than anyone else's dream just because they're conventional and staying within the non-controversial bounds of accepted society? Besides, if I ever felt maternal, I'd adopt. There are enough kids without homes in the world. We should sort out them before we start bringing more children into the world. And now on another note:
My cousin got pregnant at 19 and had a little boy, the best thing that ever happened to her. She got married at 23 to a man who is not his father, and now she's expecting twin girls. My point is, her life isn't conventional. She didn't get married to the first man she slept with. Maybe it didn't work out exactly as she planned it, but it's still her life and as long as she's happy, what right has anyone got to take it away from her?
This, and I was still lying on the floor, wondering why nobody had mentioned jobs yet. What am I going to do, raise the kids while my husband goes out and earns money? Hell no!
Afterwards, everyone was asked for various details. In a class of 14/15 year old girls, everyone had got an idea of their dream man. Fair enough, so had I at that moment in time, because Gus is beautiful inside and out. But nobody else seemed to have noticed the whole job issue. Out of 21 of us, I would say that 16 or 17 had mentally planned their proposals, already got their wedding perfectly planned, and worked out all the other details: "I want two kids, one for each hand. Girls, not boys." Everyone mentioned beautiful weddings and living in huge houses out in the country.
"What about you, V?"
"I'd get a cosy little flat near a tube station. Maybe in Edgeware or a nice part of London. Or maybe Cardiff. I don't know, I'm 15. Why would I have my life already mapped out?"
Everyone just looked at me like I'd told them I planned on spending my adulthood swallowing living kittens for a living.
So, that was my rant for today. My ideal life may involve a lover, but s/he will not be the be-all and end-all. And I think our society should stop encouraging girls to think like drones, a school of thought perpetuated by things like the Twilight saga, and let us be free. I bet if you'd done the same experiment in a boys' school, nobody would have all that all mapped out. My brother doesn't even know where he wants to go to uni, and that's six months away.
My dream for my life is this: be a rock journalist. Have fun. Laugh and sing and let everyone know I don't give a shit what you think of me. Screw marriage, screw a house in the country, screw kids who'll inherit my greasy hair and sore lips. I don't know what life will hold for me until I get there, and I certainly don't want to ruin it by planning too much.
Yay? Have you missed them? If you have then... I'm not sure whether to be honoured or sad.
But first, a sidenote - I fell asleep in the brown chair in my living room today and had the best dream I'd had in a while. Yeah, it involved the LPizzles. Stu got a cape and turned into Superman; Ian ended up protecting the modesty of girls wearing skirts in windy weather; Lee had a huge grin all over his face, and of course all the 'Prophetlets had started a band at the tender age of a couple of weeks/months/years old (seriously, there should so be a Lostprophets Junior with their kids. Lee's son Daniyal is destined to be an epic drummer).
Today, in PSHE (Personal Social Health education... basically everyone talking to each other about "issues" and pretending not to feel awkward), our lesson started off by everyone lying down on the floor. Everyone sat there looking heartbroken for ten minutes whingeing about the crumbs while I was lying on my back having a nice doze. By the time everyone had spread out and settled down, our teacher decided to take us on an "imaginary voyage" through our dream life.
Right, I thought, this'll be fun. I instantly pictured myself beside a tour bus, laughing with one of my favourite bands as their friend or tech or both. I was cheerfully getting lost in my daydream when I heard my teacher's voice.
"Imagine your ideal man. Your potential husband."
Fuck, I know I'm not getting married! And though if I do end up with a long time lover then, though it'll probably be a guy, there's a pretty good chance it could be a girl as well. This, and who said my dream even involved being romantically involved with anyone anyway? I could just be single, footloose and fancy free, for the rest of my life. So straight away, I was pissed off with this. Our teacher assumed that, in our ideal life, our careers and ambitions played second fiddle to getting a guy.
Well... Okay, I could just about put up with this. I guess a guy could be part of my dream. I conjured up an image of my current biggest crush (Gus, OBVS), and settled back into my sleepy daze.
"How would he date you? How would he propose to you? What would the wedding be like?"
Um... what? So this isn't our dream future life, it's our dream future life if we were living a hundred years ago when all we had to hope for was a nice young man and a nice house. My dream future is so much more than just a lover. Sure, I've never been in love, and it'd probably be pretty damn rad, but would it really dictate my future life? If it was a choice between my friends and my love, well, I'd go for my friends as I love them all so much, and who says that friendship love is any less than romantic love anyway?
"Where would you live after you got married? And maybe, after a few years of being together, you'd have kids? Have many?"
Um, did you notice the whole I'm-not-getting-married thing? And kids ~after I'm married? What if I want kids and never want to get married? Does that make my life not ideal, not my dream, less than anyone else's dream just because they're conventional and staying within the non-controversial bounds of accepted society? Besides, if I ever felt maternal, I'd adopt. There are enough kids without homes in the world. We should sort out them before we start bringing more children into the world. And now on another note:
My cousin got pregnant at 19 and had a little boy, the best thing that ever happened to her. She got married at 23 to a man who is not his father, and now she's expecting twin girls. My point is, her life isn't conventional. She didn't get married to the first man she slept with. Maybe it didn't work out exactly as she planned it, but it's still her life and as long as she's happy, what right has anyone got to take it away from her?
This, and I was still lying on the floor, wondering why nobody had mentioned jobs yet. What am I going to do, raise the kids while my husband goes out and earns money? Hell no!
Afterwards, everyone was asked for various details. In a class of 14/15 year old girls, everyone had got an idea of their dream man. Fair enough, so had I at that moment in time, because Gus is beautiful inside and out. But nobody else seemed to have noticed the whole job issue. Out of 21 of us, I would say that 16 or 17 had mentally planned their proposals, already got their wedding perfectly planned, and worked out all the other details: "I want two kids, one for each hand. Girls, not boys." Everyone mentioned beautiful weddings and living in huge houses out in the country.
"What about you, V?"
"I'd get a cosy little flat near a tube station. Maybe in Edgeware or a nice part of London. Or maybe Cardiff. I don't know, I'm 15. Why would I have my life already mapped out?"
Everyone just looked at me like I'd told them I planned on spending my adulthood swallowing living kittens for a living.
So, that was my rant for today. My ideal life may involve a lover, but s/he will not be the be-all and end-all. And I think our society should stop encouraging girls to think like drones, a school of thought perpetuated by things like the Twilight saga, and let us be free. I bet if you'd done the same experiment in a boys' school, nobody would have all that all mapped out. My brother doesn't even know where he wants to go to uni, and that's six months away.
My dream for my life is this: be a rock journalist. Have fun. Laugh and sing and let everyone know I don't give a shit what you think of me. Screw marriage, screw a house in the country, screw kids who'll inherit my greasy hair and sore lips. I don't know what life will hold for me until I get there, and I certainly don't want to ruin it by planning too much.
Tuesday 9 February 2010
An apology
Yo bitch,
So you've read my blog on how the world is going to pot and instead of focusing on the main point of it - the fact that we are all doomed - and decided to focus on the fact I called everyone at my school a wannabe chav in order to make a point. You then decided to take this personally.
Um... no. Look here dumbass, maybe I shoulda said prep. Frankly I don't give two shits if you're offended or not. You're still a shallow, annoying idiot who calls me by my full name and still cannot pronounce it correctly (it apparently ends in "aaaaaaar").
Lead a good life, and I hope you go to heaven, because I sure as shit don't want to see you while I'm partying in hell.
So you've read my blog on how the world is going to pot and instead of focusing on the main point of it - the fact that we are all doomed - and decided to focus on the fact I called everyone at my school a wannabe chav in order to make a point. You then decided to take this personally.
Um... no. Look here dumbass, maybe I shoulda said prep. Frankly I don't give two shits if you're offended or not. You're still a shallow, annoying idiot who calls me by my full name and still cannot pronounce it correctly (it apparently ends in "aaaaaaar").
Lead a good life, and I hope you go to heaven, because I sure as shit don't want to see you while I'm partying in hell.
Monday 8 February 2010
THE EPIC ADVENTURE OF THE YEAR 2010
My French is all about Young Guns.
Right now I am on MSN talking to Vikki and Sam about Lostprophets and Young Guns in Cardiff. It is gonna be THE EPIC ADVENTURE OF THE YEAR.
I will soon be going to bed, listening to Lostprophets and chilling out with an awesome Jodi Picoult book.
I have Lostprophets on Thursday. It is meant to snow, but I will get into London if it kills me on Thursday.
I spent Physics today doodling, and got out of doing History notes because my arm was killing me.
On Wednesday I'm going to dye my fringe again and potentially kill it.
Despite the fact I lost a lot of important stuff on Friday, I learnt my lesson and I found one of the things (my pick) on the driveway, and I'm buying replacements for Hoppy and Happy. They won't be the same but I'm sure toys can be reincarnated, so I'll stick to believing that. Crazy? You know it.
I hate the roundhouse, and my hatred of the concept of fanclubs still hasn't rebated, but if you're in one, I don't hate you. I may have issues with you, but as long as you're an awesome person I'm not that concerned really (:
All I can say now is - BRING ON THE EPIC ADVENTURE OF THE YEAR 2010! CARDIFF HERE WE COME YOU NOT-QUITE-MERTHYRDUCKERS!
Right now I am on MSN talking to Vikki and Sam about Lostprophets and Young Guns in Cardiff. It is gonna be THE EPIC ADVENTURE OF THE YEAR.
I will soon be going to bed, listening to Lostprophets and chilling out with an awesome Jodi Picoult book.
I have Lostprophets on Thursday. It is meant to snow, but I will get into London if it kills me on Thursday.
I spent Physics today doodling, and got out of doing History notes because my arm was killing me.
On Wednesday I'm going to dye my fringe again and potentially kill it.
Despite the fact I lost a lot of important stuff on Friday, I learnt my lesson and I found one of the things (my pick) on the driveway, and I'm buying replacements for Hoppy and Happy. They won't be the same but I'm sure toys can be reincarnated, so I'll stick to believing that. Crazy? You know it.
I hate the roundhouse, and my hatred of the concept of fanclubs still hasn't rebated, but if you're in one, I don't hate you. I may have issues with you, but as long as you're an awesome person I'm not that concerned really (:
All I can say now is - BRING ON THE EPIC ADVENTURE OF THE YEAR 2010! CARDIFF HERE WE COME YOU NOT-QUITE-MERTHYRDUCKERS!
Tuesday 2 February 2010
As long as there will be rain...
...there will be clear skies after. Hope that's true for my sake, as my Thursday/Friday/Saturday will be spent being very cold and getting very wet. Today's blog comes to you in several sections: pondering, pissed off, and... um, some other word beginning with p. P-amusing?
PONDERING
Life gets ups and downs, but it'll always be better. I guess you've just to grin and bear the rain and wait for the sunshine afterwards. Or just find a way to get yourself some instant sunshine, talking to friends or listening to a favourite song.
In other unimportant news, I frequently end up in awkward conversations. I just got the following tweet from a friend o'mine, Zak:
"personally one would think that gay guys would like skinnier cocks. less chance of hemmeroids that way"
And I have no clue how the hell to reply. Perhaps, "not being a gay guy, I wouldn't know either way"? I always have to be kinda careful about what I say to him though as he's going through some tough times - the rain. But apparently my English optimism always cheers him up.
Edit - now we are discussing my sexuality. I can summarise by the way my friend described her sexuality: "I like pretty people". Screw if they're male or female, so long as they're pretty, musically talented and nice people, I'll probably like them. That said, I don't like every pretty, musical person I know... Yeah, I'mma shut up about that now and go onto something else.
I've made so many new friends, and - weirdly - a lot of them actually seem to genuinely like me. I find this incredible, and very strange. Some of them, without any prompts, have just randomly said they love me and they're glad I'm friends with them. I'm normally the person saying that, and to have it the other way round is really touching.
PISSED OFF
Now I have an Ethics presentation to continue all about poverty. Dear overpaid footballers: you get £160,000 a week for kicking a ball around. Do us a favour and give that to the 90% or so of the global population who do real work and get appitance for it. I don't care if it means you can't afford a new car, there are people out there who can't afford to EAT. And dear all governmnets everywhere: sort it out, mmkay?
I'm studying the Arms Trade. It's really rather depressing. The small arms trade feeds off vulnerability; people don't have money, and that makes them feel weak. So what do they do? They buy something to protect themselves; arms. Crime rates rise through illegal trade, and with crime comes injury and death and a whole vicious cycle of poverty. And the global arms trade - well, it's one of the most expensive industries in the world. Governments, especially those of poorer countries, are spending so much on weaponry that their people are suffering. Godammit, it's like the Cold War all over again. Spending billions of weapons you'll never use and bankrupting your nation means a lower standard of living, higher poverty rates and general doominess for all involved.
ON A LIGHTER NOTE...
I... um... Dammit, I'm so pissed off thinking about the arms trade that I'mma have to shut up now and do my ethics! Seriously, governments, what the hell? You need food, not more friggin missiles!
We just have to try and understand the problems from the past and make it through all the bloody problems we're facing now, because tomorrow can only be better.
When I was a kid I filled bottles with messages of hope
Now I wake up clutching broken glass
Cause all my questions have been answered by the flood
Even those I never asked
All the storms that I've seen
Are countless reasons not to believe
But I know that as long as there will be rain
There will be clear skies after
Every day under the sky I stood, arms raised in imitation
Watching birds in flight
Now I'm older youth has passed me by
But I'll keep reaching till I get what's mine
All the storms that I've seen
Are countless reasons not to believe
But I know that as long as there will be rain
There will be clear skies after
No matter how far I go
I know that you are by my side
Together we'll see this through
As long as I am still alive
All the storms that I've seen
Are countless reasons not to believe
But I know that as long as there will be rain
There will be clear skies after
There will be rain, there will be clear skies after
There will be rain, there will be clear skies after
PONDERING
Life gets ups and downs, but it'll always be better. I guess you've just to grin and bear the rain and wait for the sunshine afterwards. Or just find a way to get yourself some instant sunshine, talking to friends or listening to a favourite song.
In other unimportant news, I frequently end up in awkward conversations. I just got the following tweet from a friend o'mine, Zak:
"personally one would think that gay guys would like skinnier cocks. less chance of hemmeroids that way"
And I have no clue how the hell to reply. Perhaps, "not being a gay guy, I wouldn't know either way"? I always have to be kinda careful about what I say to him though as he's going through some tough times - the rain. But apparently my English optimism always cheers him up.
Edit - now we are discussing my sexuality. I can summarise by the way my friend described her sexuality: "I like pretty people". Screw if they're male or female, so long as they're pretty, musically talented and nice people, I'll probably like them. That said, I don't like every pretty, musical person I know... Yeah, I'mma shut up about that now and go onto something else.
I've made so many new friends, and - weirdly - a lot of them actually seem to genuinely like me. I find this incredible, and very strange. Some of them, without any prompts, have just randomly said they love me and they're glad I'm friends with them. I'm normally the person saying that, and to have it the other way round is really touching.
PISSED OFF
Now I have an Ethics presentation to continue all about poverty. Dear overpaid footballers: you get £160,000 a week for kicking a ball around. Do us a favour and give that to the 90% or so of the global population who do real work and get appitance for it. I don't care if it means you can't afford a new car, there are people out there who can't afford to EAT. And dear all governmnets everywhere: sort it out, mmkay?
I'm studying the Arms Trade. It's really rather depressing. The small arms trade feeds off vulnerability; people don't have money, and that makes them feel weak. So what do they do? They buy something to protect themselves; arms. Crime rates rise through illegal trade, and with crime comes injury and death and a whole vicious cycle of poverty. And the global arms trade - well, it's one of the most expensive industries in the world. Governments, especially those of poorer countries, are spending so much on weaponry that their people are suffering. Godammit, it's like the Cold War all over again. Spending billions of weapons you'll never use and bankrupting your nation means a lower standard of living, higher poverty rates and general doominess for all involved.
ON A LIGHTER NOTE...
I... um... Dammit, I'm so pissed off thinking about the arms trade that I'mma have to shut up now and do my ethics! Seriously, governments, what the hell? You need food, not more friggin missiles!
We just have to try and understand the problems from the past and make it through all the bloody problems we're facing now, because tomorrow can only be better.
When I was a kid I filled bottles with messages of hope
Now I wake up clutching broken glass
Cause all my questions have been answered by the flood
Even those I never asked
All the storms that I've seen
Are countless reasons not to believe
But I know that as long as there will be rain
There will be clear skies after
Every day under the sky I stood, arms raised in imitation
Watching birds in flight
Now I'm older youth has passed me by
But I'll keep reaching till I get what's mine
All the storms that I've seen
Are countless reasons not to believe
But I know that as long as there will be rain
There will be clear skies after
No matter how far I go
I know that you are by my side
Together we'll see this through
As long as I am still alive
All the storms that I've seen
Are countless reasons not to believe
But I know that as long as there will be rain
There will be clear skies after
There will be rain, there will be clear skies after
There will be rain, there will be clear skies after
Saturday 30 January 2010
Bringing In The New Noise
Today's blog comes in a normal rant about the media, music, mainstream-ness, and how nobody has any free will about what they listen to anymore. Oh and me pimping out one of my favourite bands that you should go listen to NOW (actually, if you're reading this blog, you probably already like them...)
I got on Facebook today at around 10pm only to be confronted by the following statuses:
"Batchwood was awesome :) x"
"JEDWARD WAS AMAZINGGG. BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE <3"
... So what? You saw Jedward at Batchwood, and it was the best night of your life? Seeing a pair of blond people who cannot sing, did not even win XFactor and probably didn't come out and see their (screamy fangirly and almost certainly fucking terrifying) fans?
Really? Did it beat all the nights you hung out with your friends and cracked lame jokes? The days you spent shopping or chilling with people you love?
Seeing some Sean Smith wannabe twats sing autotuned songs written by underpaid people with more rhyming dictionaries than braincells? Really?
This is what I posted on Facebook in response:
"Dear all those who love Jedward and saw them tonight: Fuck off. Go see a real band, one who've had to work and didn't get by on hair and bad acting. See a band who have fans who've followed them for ten years and know every word to every song they wrote themselves. Go see a real band, and not some talentless gits who just got a lucky break."
This all goes back to the whole Rage Against The Machine thing. The 'machin'e is popular media, and 90% of the population will follow exactly what they are told. It's up to us, the 10% who got away, to rage against it and to spread the word. If you turn on most radio stations they will play the most popular music, and you will get sucked into a never-ending cycle. All popular music is on the radio, and you will get to like it by listening to it, so you will go out and buy it, hence it will become more popular and get played more. So more people will listen, and like it, and buy it... It's a vicious cycle.
To be honest, the music industry is turning to shit. I want to work for a magazine like Kerrang! or RockSound, one who support the little bands struggling to make it because they have all the talent and none of the backing.
You want to go see a new band? Go see Young Guns, with a lead singer so beautiful and talented he will make your heart race, and songs big enough to land aeroplanes on. Go see My Passion, with electro grooves and a rave vibe. Go see Deaf Havana for a good ear battering, or Don Broco because they are a hip-hop/hardcore crossover with amazing results. They are bands who have, with almost no press behind them, worked hard and slummed it. They have built up fanbases through original songs and hard work and through talking to fans like they're old friends, earning money by playing gigs and selling merch.
Young Guns are giving away their new single Winter Kiss as a free download. Even if you've never heard them before, go listen. It's all about spreading the word. And they were selling a bundle for £6. Poster, hard copy single, tshirt. They earnt no money from it whatsoever. They just want to get heard, and they bloody well should be.
Whoever you are, go download their single. It's fucking amazing. Better than any Jedward cover you'll ever hear, and that is a FACT (Fucking Amazing Clear Truth).
This is a shoutout to my twinny Laura, who is currently in Southampton or going towards it. It was great to see her agan and I'll see her next week at K! tour, where the mighty My Passion and Young Guns will, of course, be playing!
I got on Facebook today at around 10pm only to be confronted by the following statuses:
"Batchwood was awesome :) x"
"JEDWARD WAS AMAZINGGG. BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE <3"
... So what? You saw Jedward at Batchwood, and it was the best night of your life? Seeing a pair of blond people who cannot sing, did not even win XFactor and probably didn't come out and see their (screamy fangirly and almost certainly fucking terrifying) fans?
Really? Did it beat all the nights you hung out with your friends and cracked lame jokes? The days you spent shopping or chilling with people you love?
Seeing some Sean Smith wannabe twats sing autotuned songs written by underpaid people with more rhyming dictionaries than braincells? Really?
This is what I posted on Facebook in response:
"Dear all those who love Jedward and saw them tonight: Fuck off. Go see a real band, one who've had to work and didn't get by on hair and bad acting. See a band who have fans who've followed them for ten years and know every word to every song they wrote themselves. Go see a real band, and not some talentless gits who just got a lucky break."
This all goes back to the whole Rage Against The Machine thing. The 'machin'e is popular media, and 90% of the population will follow exactly what they are told. It's up to us, the 10% who got away, to rage against it and to spread the word. If you turn on most radio stations they will play the most popular music, and you will get sucked into a never-ending cycle. All popular music is on the radio, and you will get to like it by listening to it, so you will go out and buy it, hence it will become more popular and get played more. So more people will listen, and like it, and buy it... It's a vicious cycle.
To be honest, the music industry is turning to shit. I want to work for a magazine like Kerrang! or RockSound, one who support the little bands struggling to make it because they have all the talent and none of the backing.
You want to go see a new band? Go see Young Guns, with a lead singer so beautiful and talented he will make your heart race, and songs big enough to land aeroplanes on. Go see My Passion, with electro grooves and a rave vibe. Go see Deaf Havana for a good ear battering, or Don Broco because they are a hip-hop/hardcore crossover with amazing results. They are bands who have, with almost no press behind them, worked hard and slummed it. They have built up fanbases through original songs and hard work and through talking to fans like they're old friends, earning money by playing gigs and selling merch.
Young Guns are giving away their new single Winter Kiss as a free download. Even if you've never heard them before, go listen. It's all about spreading the word. And they were selling a bundle for £6. Poster, hard copy single, tshirt. They earnt no money from it whatsoever. They just want to get heard, and they bloody well should be.
Whoever you are, go download their single. It's fucking amazing. Better than any Jedward cover you'll ever hear, and that is a FACT (Fucking Amazing Clear Truth).
This is a shoutout to my twinny Laura, who is currently in Southampton or going towards it. It was great to see her agan and I'll see her next week at K! tour, where the mighty My Passion and Young Guns will, of course, be playing!
Friday 29 January 2010
Music Friday III: Black Market Music
Today, by request of my darling Kath, I am reviewing BLACK MARKET MUSIC by Placebo. So, shall we get started?
Ooh, a nice little guitar riff to get us going... Aaaaand drums. So far I'm liking this. Stripped down retro feel. And... um, a synth? Maybe? I can't tell. Yeah, this is my first time listening to TASTE IN MEN and already my mind is getting fucked up. Brian Molko's voice is freaky, as haunting as ever. The song is dark, as with most Placebo, begging someone to coming back to him. "I'm killing time on Valentine's", croons Molko. Don't worry sir, I'm sure you'll get plenty of offers. It's a nice opening, fairly low-key but building nicely. And a burst of static to end...
DAYS BEFORE YOU CAME has a similar inital vibe, broody and grungey and rather desolate. I mean, any song with "freezing cold and empty" as the second line is probably not going to be cheerful. For some reason it reminds me of The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance, despite being far more stripped down.
SPECIAL K starts with a soft (acoustic?) guitar, and then breaks into a still rather subtle guitar/drum combo. Mm, it's still slightly depressed, but in a different way. The breakdown, which has a major harmony in it (I think... music technical stuff isn't a strong point of mine) helps to move the song along and the quiet "ba-da dum-da-dum"s in the background actually enhance the mood instead of seeming like a cheap marketing gimmick.
I hear drums. And somethign almost nu-metally. This is SPITE AND MALICE, with vocals quiet enough for me almost not to hear them. Yes, I was right - some rapping has slipped into the middle of this song. It now seems like a slightly dispirited Rage Against The Machine. The swearing seems out of place, but otherwise the song provides a more energetic contrast to the previous album tracks.
On PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE we are back to a mellow song, with a spoken-word echoing beginning to build mood. On this song, Molko proves he can put aside the whiney tone of voice and actually pull out some really pleasant sounding vocals - Oh, no, just at the end of words, it sneaks back in. What a shame. At 5.23, it is quite a long track a little repetitive but it does develop in a nice, laid-back-slightly-depressed way (if such a way can be called nice) and seems dreamily wistfull.
BLACK-EYED certainly trumps the Peas of a similar name. With some slightly creepy techno creeping into the background and Molko proclaiming to be the "product of a broke home" it is, like all Placebo, not an easy listen , but it does seem more optimstic than other songs - or is that just my twisted mind?
And now... is that a piano? It reminds me of another song, which I can't place. "It sounds pretentious, but it's true" claims Molko. Mm, that could be said of a lot of Placebo's music. BLUE AMERICAN - ah, the odd references to "Mom" and "Uncle Tom" make sense now. Not the strongest song on the album, but an interesting continuation of the same mental health theme explored in a different way.
SLAVE TO THE WAGE starts in a squeal of distorted guitars. Calling Margaret Thatcher a bitch was quite an amusing turn in the song, and yet the message - that work and life in general is a race of rats to die - resonates rather well and provides a nice refreshing change from the generally introverted musical theme.
Now this doesn't sound like Placebo at all, actually. COMMERCIAL FOR LEVI seems like a continuation of the previous song, in a way. It is, so far, the most cheerful song on the album. "Please don't die". Yeah, I like that. It's a good idea, and also merrily tells us to stop doing drugs. Thanks for the advice, Brian - but you could've taken it yourself. Where did the title of 2006 album Meds come from again?
Now, the biologist in me is pondering whether HAEMOGLOBIN really is the key to a healthy heartbeat, but the clasutrophobic atmosphere of the song works will with the idea of being cut open and examined by strange doctors. It's a somewhat uncomfortable listen, but well worth it.
I can't help but wonder where Mr Molko gets his ideas for titles from. NARCOLEPTIC? Is this a song about narcolepsy? Why have you gone back to mentioning words and books like in BLUE AMERICAN? And now we're being warned of ending up as a wreck... the song develops nicely with a storyline behind it, though the ending seems to be repeated a few too many times for my liking. Yes, we get the idea about never making up, and you don't have to send us to sleep.
PEEPING TOM is a melancholy ending, with reverberating synths and lyrics that seem reminiscent of hearing voices. It's a subtle end to what has been a generally understated, grimy yet somehow magic album.
Reading this review you might think I'm being critical of Placebo. Well... I am. But that's because those are just the things I could find to say. Just saying that every single song is a disorientatingly simple journey into your own head would be the easy way out; dull to write and dull to read. Picking apart flaws is just another way for you to appreciate the dark beauty and majesty of an album which is 11 years old, and yet continues to be relevant and haunting. 8/10
Ooh, a nice little guitar riff to get us going... Aaaaand drums. So far I'm liking this. Stripped down retro feel. And... um, a synth? Maybe? I can't tell. Yeah, this is my first time listening to TASTE IN MEN and already my mind is getting fucked up. Brian Molko's voice is freaky, as haunting as ever. The song is dark, as with most Placebo, begging someone to coming back to him. "I'm killing time on Valentine's", croons Molko. Don't worry sir, I'm sure you'll get plenty of offers. It's a nice opening, fairly low-key but building nicely. And a burst of static to end...
DAYS BEFORE YOU CAME has a similar inital vibe, broody and grungey and rather desolate. I mean, any song with "freezing cold and empty" as the second line is probably not going to be cheerful. For some reason it reminds me of The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance, despite being far more stripped down.
SPECIAL K starts with a soft (acoustic?) guitar, and then breaks into a still rather subtle guitar/drum combo. Mm, it's still slightly depressed, but in a different way. The breakdown, which has a major harmony in it (I think... music technical stuff isn't a strong point of mine) helps to move the song along and the quiet "ba-da dum-da-dum"s in the background actually enhance the mood instead of seeming like a cheap marketing gimmick.
I hear drums. And somethign almost nu-metally. This is SPITE AND MALICE, with vocals quiet enough for me almost not to hear them. Yes, I was right - some rapping has slipped into the middle of this song. It now seems like a slightly dispirited Rage Against The Machine. The swearing seems out of place, but otherwise the song provides a more energetic contrast to the previous album tracks.
On PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE we are back to a mellow song, with a spoken-word echoing beginning to build mood. On this song, Molko proves he can put aside the whiney tone of voice and actually pull out some really pleasant sounding vocals - Oh, no, just at the end of words, it sneaks back in. What a shame. At 5.23, it is quite a long track a little repetitive but it does develop in a nice, laid-back-slightly-depressed way (if such a way can be called nice) and seems dreamily wistfull.
BLACK-EYED certainly trumps the Peas of a similar name. With some slightly creepy techno creeping into the background and Molko proclaiming to be the "product of a broke home" it is, like all Placebo, not an easy listen , but it does seem more optimstic than other songs - or is that just my twisted mind?
And now... is that a piano? It reminds me of another song, which I can't place. "It sounds pretentious, but it's true" claims Molko. Mm, that could be said of a lot of Placebo's music. BLUE AMERICAN - ah, the odd references to "Mom" and "Uncle Tom" make sense now. Not the strongest song on the album, but an interesting continuation of the same mental health theme explored in a different way.
SLAVE TO THE WAGE starts in a squeal of distorted guitars. Calling Margaret Thatcher a bitch was quite an amusing turn in the song, and yet the message - that work and life in general is a race of rats to die - resonates rather well and provides a nice refreshing change from the generally introverted musical theme.
Now this doesn't sound like Placebo at all, actually. COMMERCIAL FOR LEVI seems like a continuation of the previous song, in a way. It is, so far, the most cheerful song on the album. "Please don't die". Yeah, I like that. It's a good idea, and also merrily tells us to stop doing drugs. Thanks for the advice, Brian - but you could've taken it yourself. Where did the title of 2006 album Meds come from again?
Now, the biologist in me is pondering whether HAEMOGLOBIN really is the key to a healthy heartbeat, but the clasutrophobic atmosphere of the song works will with the idea of being cut open and examined by strange doctors. It's a somewhat uncomfortable listen, but well worth it.
I can't help but wonder where Mr Molko gets his ideas for titles from. NARCOLEPTIC? Is this a song about narcolepsy? Why have you gone back to mentioning words and books like in BLUE AMERICAN? And now we're being warned of ending up as a wreck... the song develops nicely with a storyline behind it, though the ending seems to be repeated a few too many times for my liking. Yes, we get the idea about never making up, and you don't have to send us to sleep.
PEEPING TOM is a melancholy ending, with reverberating synths and lyrics that seem reminiscent of hearing voices. It's a subtle end to what has been a generally understated, grimy yet somehow magic album.
Reading this review you might think I'm being critical of Placebo. Well... I am. But that's because those are just the things I could find to say. Just saying that every single song is a disorientatingly simple journey into your own head would be the easy way out; dull to write and dull to read. Picking apart flaws is just another way for you to appreciate the dark beauty and majesty of an album which is 11 years old, and yet continues to be relevant and haunting. 8/10
Thursday 28 January 2010
Minor scahdenfreude is perfectly normal...
Yes, the title is something I said trying to comfort one of my friends. Yes, I am crap at giving advice. I'm always good for people to tell problems to, just don;t expect anything useful on the whole "making-you-feel-better" front.
So, tomorrow is Music Friday III. Any idea what I should do? I was thinking I'd review a (new, maybe) album, one I haven't heard before - thoughts and ideas?
Today's blog is actually a non-blog. I have nothing blogworthy to talk about apart from my usual minor gripes of homework, which nobody really cares about, and being told to do more flute practise by my "I-was-a-wonderkid-who-did-grade-8-at-the-same-time-as-my-GCSEs-and-also-invented-a-cure-for-the-common-cold-while-i-was-at-it" music teacher.
This entire week, I've been convinced it's Friday every single day of the week. Ergo, as it really will be Friday tomorrow, it is guaranteed to be a massive letdown, as I have to do all my homework for the entirity of next week (minus my English coursework, which will get done at exactly midnight of the day it's due in... which is actually a couple of weeks away). Today's homework was Maths (torturous, confusing and most likely failed), Music Theory (which I had to restrain myself from doing in case I accidentally burnt it into cinders) and RS (which was fun, because I did it while listening to Journey. On three now: DON'T STOP! BELIEVIN'!
It is a week until the Epic Camden Campout. This time in a week, I will be on a street in London, shivering my arse off in seven layers and a sleeping bag, and yet I am possibly more excited for this than I have been for anything in a long time. The week after that, I'll be in Brixton, chatting to LP after the gig (hopefully), or if not befriending security. Or being on the way home. Any which way, the next two Thursday evenings will be EPIC FUNTIMES.
Also, my friend Kath and I have made a pact... if ever one of us becomes stuck in an unhappy marriage, we will keep other other on speed-dial so the non-trapped one can "swing by your house with dynamite, bust you out, and take you to a Welsh gig ASAP".
It sounds like a good plan to me.
So, leave a comment telling me what album to review! And good night y'all, see you on the real Friday!
So, tomorrow is Music Friday III. Any idea what I should do? I was thinking I'd review a (new, maybe) album, one I haven't heard before - thoughts and ideas?
Today's blog is actually a non-blog. I have nothing blogworthy to talk about apart from my usual minor gripes of homework, which nobody really cares about, and being told to do more flute practise by my "I-was-a-wonderkid-who-did-grade-8-at-the-same-time-as-my-GCSEs-and-also-invented-a-cure-for-the-common-cold-while-i-was-at-it" music teacher.
This entire week, I've been convinced it's Friday every single day of the week. Ergo, as it really will be Friday tomorrow, it is guaranteed to be a massive letdown, as I have to do all my homework for the entirity of next week (minus my English coursework, which will get done at exactly midnight of the day it's due in... which is actually a couple of weeks away). Today's homework was Maths (torturous, confusing and most likely failed), Music Theory (which I had to restrain myself from doing in case I accidentally burnt it into cinders) and RS (which was fun, because I did it while listening to Journey. On three now: DON'T STOP! BELIEVIN'!
It is a week until the Epic Camden Campout. This time in a week, I will be on a street in London, shivering my arse off in seven layers and a sleeping bag, and yet I am possibly more excited for this than I have been for anything in a long time. The week after that, I'll be in Brixton, chatting to LP after the gig (hopefully), or if not befriending security. Or being on the way home. Any which way, the next two Thursday evenings will be EPIC FUNTIMES.
Also, my friend Kath and I have made a pact... if ever one of us becomes stuck in an unhappy marriage, we will keep other other on speed-dial so the non-trapped one can "swing by your house with dynamite, bust you out, and take you to a Welsh gig ASAP".
It sounds like a good plan to me.
So, leave a comment telling me what album to review! And good night y'all, see you on the real Friday!
Tuesday 26 January 2010
Depressingly pensive and terribly written.
So many people can fall apart in the middle of the street while so many people can just walk on by.
So many people can fall apart at home with nobody to help.
So many people can scream their frustration across the world on the internet, but even with the whole world on the other end of the line nobody takes the call.
And while all these people are falling apart, be it next door or in a different country or in a different fucking galaxy, there are all the others who carry on as normal.
So many people notice, but are scared of getting involved.
And so many people walk on by without realising what's going on.
And then there are people who say everything is fine, and maybe it is just below the surface, but they're falling apart inside.
Human emotions are wonderful, beautiful, awful things and the world is a wonderful, beautiful, awful place. There seems to be no such thing as balance.
And in the end, we all fall apart.
So many people can fall apart at home with nobody to help.
So many people can scream their frustration across the world on the internet, but even with the whole world on the other end of the line nobody takes the call.
And while all these people are falling apart, be it next door or in a different country or in a different fucking galaxy, there are all the others who carry on as normal.
So many people notice, but are scared of getting involved.
And so many people walk on by without realising what's going on.
And then there are people who say everything is fine, and maybe it is just below the surface, but they're falling apart inside.
Human emotions are wonderful, beautiful, awful things and the world is a wonderful, beautiful, awful place. There seems to be no such thing as balance.
And in the end, we all fall apart.
Monday 25 January 2010
NICKNAMEZ
So Kath and I have decided we need to invent some more nicknames for everyone on the Kerrang! tour so we don't get confused. She, of course, is Kath.
We started this off when we realised we could tell the difference between Simon Young Guns and Simon My Passion without writing Simon YG or Simon MP. So we shortened that into Siyg and Simp!
And then we decided everyone needed a new nickname. EVERYONE! And so, we have...
MY PASSION
Laurence = Dinosaur
John =
Jonny =
Simon = Simp
YOUNG GUNS
Gustav = Noweigan Wood
Fraser =
Johnny =
Ben =
Simon = Siyg
THE BLACKOUT
Sean = $ushi
Gav = XRay Eyes
Matt = RiffBoy/Sad Puppy
Snoz = Teddy
Bob = THE FURY
Rhys = Spoon/Rhys Withaspoon/Prom Queen
ALL TIME LOW
Alex =
Jack =
Zack =
Rian =
Expect this blog to be filled in with more nicknames and the names or random people too xD Oh, and Lostprophets and KIGH may well end up getting NickName'd too... depends how much time we have on our hands XD
Plot blog for those wondering will be finished maybe tomorrow or Wednesday assuming I get time... o.O
We started this off when we realised we could tell the difference between Simon Young Guns and Simon My Passion without writing Simon YG or Simon MP. So we shortened that into Siyg and Simp!
And then we decided everyone needed a new nickname. EVERYONE! And so, we have...
MY PASSION
Laurence = Dinosaur
John =
Jonny =
Simon = Simp
YOUNG GUNS
Gustav = Noweigan Wood
Fraser =
Johnny =
Ben =
Simon = Siyg
THE BLACKOUT
Sean = $ushi
Gav = XRay Eyes
Matt = RiffBoy/Sad Puppy
Snoz = Teddy
Bob = THE FURY
Rhys = Spoon/Rhys Withaspoon/Prom Queen
ALL TIME LOW
Alex =
Jack =
Zack =
Rian =
Expect this blog to be filled in with more nicknames and the names or random people too xD Oh, and Lostprophets and KIGH may well end up getting NickName'd too... depends how much time we have on our hands XD
Plot blog for those wondering will be finished maybe tomorrow or Wednesday assuming I get time... o.O
Saturday 23 January 2010
BECOMING PERFECT: PLOT NOTES
This blog will be of absolutely no interest to most of you (hey, but that's most of my blogs anyway ;D) as it's being used as a place for me to work out what's going on inside my head re. latest story idea.
BECOMING PERFECT
In *insertcountrynamehere*, all people have 2 names: a Child Name and an Adult Name.
The Child Name is a name given to them at birth by their parents, e.g. Chance, Fate, etc. It is used from birth to age 18 and may still be used by family members/close friends after the Adult Name has been adopted.
The surname is formed by mother's Adult Name + -ken for a girl (e.g. Kindken, Hopeken) and father's Adult Name + -kin for a boy (e.g. Righteouskin, Bravekin).
So my main character's Child Name is Chance Hopeken (daughter of Hope Loveken and Brave Bravekin).
The Adult Name is a name given to them by The Trusted (evil dictator stalker government type thing which is considered to be perfect). The Trust monitor the person's progress and send out a List to each person on their 14th birthday of their 10 potential Adult Names. Adult Names are a characteristic or trait (e.g. Perfect, Hope, Optimist, Lonely). The recipiant's Adult Name will be one of the ten on their List, and they have from between their 14th birthday to their 18h birthday to aspire to gain the best Adult Name on their List (so, if Perfect was a potential name, you would aspire to become perfect to be given that name. Hence the title, Becoming Perfect).
In this country, there is only one way in our out and it is closely guarded by The Guards (the military). No flights go over the country, and nobody in the country is aware that anywhere else exists - they believe they are the only people in the entire universe.
Chance Hopeken is 14 and she's been having bad dreams for the past year or so about being taken away, but she's always brushed them off as nothing. She receives her List on her birthday which gives Perfect as a possible Adult Name. Chance, being the perfectionist she is, instantly aspires to be Perfect, which means that over the next 4 years she cannot do anything wrong. She was to become Perfect.
She has a big brother aged 20 called Benevolent Bravekin. There's a rumour that he has been invited to join The Trusted as their youngest ever member, but rumours are very quickly stopped by The Trusted (by people with big guns and sunglasses...). She also used to have an elder brother whose Child Name was Gamble, but he died (note - "died") before he could be given an Adult Name.
While aspiring to be Perfect, Chance is taken aside one day by someone claiming to be a member of the Police, though she clearly isn't. She also asks Chance if her name is Eliza Carter (note - this sounds absurd to Chance. All names are *a word* plus *parent'sname*-kin/ken, so neither name registers as a real name) or if she knows anyone of that name. The "Policewoman" also makes some reference to Eliza being taken away, which sends alarm bells ringing in Chance's head re. her weird dreams - she worries that she is going to be taken away.
Time passes. Chance continues having weird thoughts, and we find out more about her family - especially her big brother Gamble, even though her parents dislike talking about him and it obviously makes them uncomfortable. Her mum lets slip something that suggests his death wasn't an accident, and more hints are made about Benevolent maybe being introduced into The Trusted. Chance continues trying to become perfect.
Chance runs into more people who ask her strange questions if she knows anyone, and she meets the Policewoman twice more. The second time, the Policewoman asks her more about The Trusted and Chance is baffled by her accent - she has accidentally started talking in her normal American voice instead of the voice of this country. The third time, Chance is very suspicious but allows the Policewoman to tell her the story of Eliza - a girl who was born in the US and stolen from her parents to be part of a government-sponsored experiment in a foreign (currently hostile) nation, who were trying to create a perfect society and wanted to bring in an outside influence, the daughter of two doctors, to see how she developed in society. There is a hint that the Policewoman is more interested in this case than just professionally.
Around two years after the story starts, Chance is seized. Physically grabbed and bundled silently into a van, where she finds the Policewoman who explains everything to her - Chance is Eliza, and the Policewoman's name is Jenna. She is Eliza's big sister. While trying to absorb this, Chance/Eliza is brought to a Secret Headquarters which has somehow been concealed from The Trusted (don't ask me how, dunno yet). Jenna explains she is part of a top-secret operation by the CIA to try and bring down The Trusted, and the only way to do it is to infiltrate The Trusted somehow. Eliza then meets the native leader of the operation - Gamble, whom she thought died 5 years ago.
With Gamble, Jenna, and other people's help, Chance starts to question Benevolent more carefully and find out more about The Trusted and where the headquarters are. Then, she is asked by The Operation to follow Benevolent into the base, and she hesitates, weighing up her quest to become perfect versus the fact that The Trusted are evil twisted dictators, and after a bit of a dilemma decides to follow Benevolent.
Of course, Benevolent knew about it the whole time, and Chance gets kidnapped and taken before The Trusted, who reveal that they know everything that is going on and were just letting The Operation carry on it could be stopped. Chance is told she is going to be executed publically, which will bring shame to her family. Benevolent, realising this means The Trusted have tricked him and he wouldn't be able to become a member, frees Chance and tells her to run.
Benevolent is killed for his betrayal. Gamble and Jenna, outraged, lead a seize on The Trusted, creating enough of a distraction for Chance to sneak inside the base. Gamble and Jenna find they can't kill The Trusted; inside, Chance finds out that each member is actually a hologram and the whole country is a mass social experiment as run by the Americans.
Jenna and Gamble decide to leave for America to try and stop the secret organisation. They tell Chance to come, but she decides to stay in the country and try and sort out a new government. The first thign she does is get rid of the bizarre naming system, and starts by chosing her Adult Name herself in a speech to the country: she says she is a proud person, and is proud of all her faults, and so choses the name Imperfect.
It needs a bit of work and will no doubt get drastically edited, but that's the basis of it. Huzzah!
BECOMING PERFECT
In *insertcountrynamehere*, all people have 2 names: a Child Name and an Adult Name.
The Child Name is a name given to them at birth by their parents, e.g. Chance, Fate, etc. It is used from birth to age 18 and may still be used by family members/close friends after the Adult Name has been adopted.
The surname is formed by mother's Adult Name + -ken for a girl (e.g. Kindken, Hopeken) and father's Adult Name + -kin for a boy (e.g. Righteouskin, Bravekin).
So my main character's Child Name is Chance Hopeken (daughter of Hope Loveken and Brave Bravekin).
The Adult Name is a name given to them by The Trusted (evil dictator stalker government type thing which is considered to be perfect). The Trust monitor the person's progress and send out a List to each person on their 14th birthday of their 10 potential Adult Names. Adult Names are a characteristic or trait (e.g. Perfect, Hope, Optimist, Lonely). The recipiant's Adult Name will be one of the ten on their List, and they have from between their 14th birthday to their 18h birthday to aspire to gain the best Adult Name on their List (so, if Perfect was a potential name, you would aspire to become perfect to be given that name. Hence the title, Becoming Perfect).
In this country, there is only one way in our out and it is closely guarded by The Guards (the military). No flights go over the country, and nobody in the country is aware that anywhere else exists - they believe they are the only people in the entire universe.
Chance Hopeken is 14 and she's been having bad dreams for the past year or so about being taken away, but she's always brushed them off as nothing. She receives her List on her birthday which gives Perfect as a possible Adult Name. Chance, being the perfectionist she is, instantly aspires to be Perfect, which means that over the next 4 years she cannot do anything wrong. She was to become Perfect.
She has a big brother aged 20 called Benevolent Bravekin. There's a rumour that he has been invited to join The Trusted as their youngest ever member, but rumours are very quickly stopped by The Trusted (by people with big guns and sunglasses...). She also used to have an elder brother whose Child Name was Gamble, but he died (note - "died") before he could be given an Adult Name.
While aspiring to be Perfect, Chance is taken aside one day by someone claiming to be a member of the Police, though she clearly isn't. She also asks Chance if her name is Eliza Carter (note - this sounds absurd to Chance. All names are *a word* plus *parent'sname*-kin/ken, so neither name registers as a real name) or if she knows anyone of that name. The "Policewoman" also makes some reference to Eliza being taken away, which sends alarm bells ringing in Chance's head re. her weird dreams - she worries that she is going to be taken away.
Time passes. Chance continues having weird thoughts, and we find out more about her family - especially her big brother Gamble, even though her parents dislike talking about him and it obviously makes them uncomfortable. Her mum lets slip something that suggests his death wasn't an accident, and more hints are made about Benevolent maybe being introduced into The Trusted. Chance continues trying to become perfect.
Chance runs into more people who ask her strange questions if she knows anyone, and she meets the Policewoman twice more. The second time, the Policewoman asks her more about The Trusted and Chance is baffled by her accent - she has accidentally started talking in her normal American voice instead of the voice of this country. The third time, Chance is very suspicious but allows the Policewoman to tell her the story of Eliza - a girl who was born in the US and stolen from her parents to be part of a government-sponsored experiment in a foreign (currently hostile) nation, who were trying to create a perfect society and wanted to bring in an outside influence, the daughter of two doctors, to see how she developed in society. There is a hint that the Policewoman is more interested in this case than just professionally.
Around two years after the story starts, Chance is seized. Physically grabbed and bundled silently into a van, where she finds the Policewoman who explains everything to her - Chance is Eliza, and the Policewoman's name is Jenna. She is Eliza's big sister. While trying to absorb this, Chance/Eliza is brought to a Secret Headquarters which has somehow been concealed from The Trusted (don't ask me how, dunno yet). Jenna explains she is part of a top-secret operation by the CIA to try and bring down The Trusted, and the only way to do it is to infiltrate The Trusted somehow. Eliza then meets the native leader of the operation - Gamble, whom she thought died 5 years ago.
With Gamble, Jenna, and other people's help, Chance starts to question Benevolent more carefully and find out more about The Trusted and where the headquarters are. Then, she is asked by The Operation to follow Benevolent into the base, and she hesitates, weighing up her quest to become perfect versus the fact that The Trusted are evil twisted dictators, and after a bit of a dilemma decides to follow Benevolent.
Of course, Benevolent knew about it the whole time, and Chance gets kidnapped and taken before The Trusted, who reveal that they know everything that is going on and were just letting The Operation carry on it could be stopped. Chance is told she is going to be executed publically, which will bring shame to her family. Benevolent, realising this means The Trusted have tricked him and he wouldn't be able to become a member, frees Chance and tells her to run.
Benevolent is killed for his betrayal. Gamble and Jenna, outraged, lead a seize on The Trusted, creating enough of a distraction for Chance to sneak inside the base. Gamble and Jenna find they can't kill The Trusted; inside, Chance finds out that each member is actually a hologram and the whole country is a mass social experiment as run by the Americans.
Jenna and Gamble decide to leave for America to try and stop the secret organisation. They tell Chance to come, but she decides to stay in the country and try and sort out a new government. The first thign she does is get rid of the bizarre naming system, and starts by chosing her Adult Name herself in a speech to the country: she says she is a proud person, and is proud of all her faults, and so choses the name Imperfect.
It needs a bit of work and will no doubt get drastically edited, but that's the basis of it. Huzzah!
Friday 22 January 2010
Music Friday II: The Garage Gig
My monkier for my weekly Friday segment needs work. Music Friday doesn't quite work. I'll think about it, or you can tweet me some suggestions xD
So, here's your journalist-honing torture - i mean treat - for today:
LOSTPROPHETS AT RELENTLESS GARAGE, 18/01/10
It's all very well to be let into a venue at 6.45, but having to wait on the barrier for nearly an hour and a half to see your favourite band can be dull. Sure, you're in the warm, but it's cramped and hard to move around and the music is so loud that talking can only be achieved by shouting directly into somebody's eardum. The atmosphere is annoyed, but excited - soon, a behemoth of British rock will be onstage.
All irritation leaves the crowd as soon as the Welsh band take the stage in their first gig of the new decade. Tearing straight into TO HELL WE RIDE, the one-man-down 'Prophets start as they mean to carry on: powerful and punchy. DSTRYR/DSTRYR and IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD (BUT I CAN SEE IT FROM HERE) remind the assembled throng why they're here - because today, Lostprophets have released their first album in 4 years and by golly it's a corker.
For just over an hour, the band sing, thrash, headbang, banter and, um, towel each other off. "We last played here in 2000! Who was there?" asks Ian Watkins. Half the crowd screams. "You liars!" he adds, laughing.
The highlight of the set is hard to chose; maybe the beautiful WHERE WE BELONG, which can compete with perrenial classic Prophets classic ROOFTOPS in terms of singalong value and began with an argument about the name of the girl on the phone, a girl who is now forever to be known as Kath. The other contenders were the epic SHINOBI VS DRAGON NINJA, which inspired much 2000-esque nu-metal dancing; and of course, the unified headbanging to BURN BURN.
Lostprophets are not a new band, and they have never claimed to be cool. A lot of people tonight were here just because it was free. But for the dedicated masses assembled before them, Lostprophets put on their usual spectacular show, and you know what? It rocked.
9/10
So, here's your journalist-honing torture - i mean treat - for today:
LOSTPROPHETS AT RELENTLESS GARAGE, 18/01/10
It's all very well to be let into a venue at 6.45, but having to wait on the barrier for nearly an hour and a half to see your favourite band can be dull. Sure, you're in the warm, but it's cramped and hard to move around and the music is so loud that talking can only be achieved by shouting directly into somebody's eardum. The atmosphere is annoyed, but excited - soon, a behemoth of British rock will be onstage.
All irritation leaves the crowd as soon as the Welsh band take the stage in their first gig of the new decade. Tearing straight into TO HELL WE RIDE, the one-man-down 'Prophets start as they mean to carry on: powerful and punchy. DSTRYR/DSTRYR and IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD (BUT I CAN SEE IT FROM HERE) remind the assembled throng why they're here - because today, Lostprophets have released their first album in 4 years and by golly it's a corker.
For just over an hour, the band sing, thrash, headbang, banter and, um, towel each other off. "We last played here in 2000! Who was there?" asks Ian Watkins. Half the crowd screams. "You liars!" he adds, laughing.
The highlight of the set is hard to chose; maybe the beautiful WHERE WE BELONG, which can compete with perrenial classic Prophets classic ROOFTOPS in terms of singalong value and began with an argument about the name of the girl on the phone, a girl who is now forever to be known as Kath. The other contenders were the epic SHINOBI VS DRAGON NINJA, which inspired much 2000-esque nu-metal dancing; and of course, the unified headbanging to BURN BURN.
Lostprophets are not a new band, and they have never claimed to be cool. A lot of people tonight were here just because it was free. But for the dedicated masses assembled before them, Lostprophets put on their usual spectacular show, and you know what? It rocked.
9/10
Thursday 21 January 2010
Missing people who may not even remember me.
All my friends know who they are. I love them all, no matter how much I moan and bitch and threaten them and how much they may hate me.
The thing is, I'm having another crisis of confidence. I feel like this more than I wish I did, hence why people have given up reading my blog because they know I just whine about my feelings and my very comfortable situation in life in a vaguely emo way.
My main problem is that all my friends are friends with each other in a much closer-knit way than I am. Sure, i'm the newbie. I've always been a n00b, pretty much, but I still end up feeling kind of left out. Nobody really wants to be with me. They just put up with me, when they'd prefer to be with someone else.
The only person who ever wants to hang out with me is my cousin, who is awesome but lives in Edinburgh. I miss my family too, and I've already mentioned how much I'm going to miss my brother.
Anyway. Basically, my friends have better friends. Best friends. So if they're together and I;m with them, I am a third wheel - totally and utterly useless. Which just leaves me feeling... well. Positively lost. I float.
Still, there are worse things to be than floaters, eh? At least I do have my friends. Dear everyone reading this - I miss you. Come hang sometime?
And then there's the people in the title. The bands I see. Lostprophets, The Blackout and Young Guns are the main offenders. I mean, they remember me when they see me - or to be more accurate, they remember my hat (Lee: Oh, it's YOU! I didn't recognise you without the hat) - but none of them know my name. I plan on teaching it to them in February and seeing if they remember it. Some members also owe me various things - Ian owes me a picture in my hat, and Fraser owes me a stint as merch girl with Young Guns.
So. Comment below about the people you miss maybe? :)
The thing is, I'm having another crisis of confidence. I feel like this more than I wish I did, hence why people have given up reading my blog because they know I just whine about my feelings and my very comfortable situation in life in a vaguely emo way.
My main problem is that all my friends are friends with each other in a much closer-knit way than I am. Sure, i'm the newbie. I've always been a n00b, pretty much, but I still end up feeling kind of left out. Nobody really wants to be with me. They just put up with me, when they'd prefer to be with someone else.
The only person who ever wants to hang out with me is my cousin, who is awesome but lives in Edinburgh. I miss my family too, and I've already mentioned how much I'm going to miss my brother.
Anyway. Basically, my friends have better friends. Best friends. So if they're together and I;m with them, I am a third wheel - totally and utterly useless. Which just leaves me feeling... well. Positively lost. I float.
Still, there are worse things to be than floaters, eh? At least I do have my friends. Dear everyone reading this - I miss you. Come hang sometime?
And then there's the people in the title. The bands I see. Lostprophets, The Blackout and Young Guns are the main offenders. I mean, they remember me when they see me - or to be more accurate, they remember my hat (Lee: Oh, it's YOU! I didn't recognise you without the hat) - but none of them know my name. I plan on teaching it to them in February and seeing if they remember it. Some members also owe me various things - Ian owes me a picture in my hat, and Fraser owes me a stint as merch girl with Young Guns.
So. Comment below about the people you miss maybe? :)
Wednesday 20 January 2010
Two weeks on Friday seems so far away.
Right, so, I have decided today will be a highlights blog of Tuesday, and Friday is going to be my Do-Something-Vaguely-Journalisty day, so I'll be trying my best to do a review of Lostprophets on Monday's gig, and probably have a little ramble at the end about the other random shit that happened that day.
So, Tuesday was pretty fun...
- Dad getting lost driving to Hitchin and ending up driving around the Sainsbury's carpark about seven times
- Getting to the right street. Not being able to see the venue - then "WAIT! Stop here!" upon seeing Si (Young Guns) standing by a van. And realising I was first in the queue o.O
- Running up a slope to find Young Guns unpacking their van, and Gus seeing me and stopping in his tracks to give me a hug (like almost every teenage girl to see Young Guns, I love that man).
- Reminding Young Guns that I hadn't seen them since last decade
- Forgetting how bloody skinny all of Young Guns are
- Gus appearing out the venue...
Noisy people: Who's that?
Me: It's Gus.
Gus: Yes, my dear?
Me: *bursts out laughing and falls off the wall*
- Befriending the guy who owned Club 85 by being quiet and polite, and persuading him to let me into the warmth. So I was sitting in the sort of anteroom for a bit, thinking "this is nice"... then getting told I could go into the venue as a "friend of Tam's". So I walked in, and ended up befriending the sound guy as well...
- Getting creeped out by the sound guy... quite a lot.
- Not having to show a ticket or ID and getting stamped as an over 18. So I just claimed to be straight edge for the night. Which is almost true.
- Hanging out at the merch stand with Young Guns for about an hour with nobody else around.
- Calling Laurence "Cruella de Ville" to his face, which made him laugh, and then we had a chat about being short. "Oh yeah, I was short... when I was seven."
- Bagging front row centre when I realised that other people had walked in too.
- Spending all of Adam's set wondering where I knew him from.
- Tweeting during Kyra's set and getting manically told off.
- Young Guns owning the night and having mad face-pulling competitions with Ben, Gus and Johnny while they were onstage.
- Gus's total blindness when I asked him for water. "I don't have any!" "Yes, you do... over there... *facepalm*" "See, we're nice guys really!"
- Seeing Matt, who is still known to me as the Raving Rabbit.
- Being addressed by Kyra's drummer as "hey, Straight-Edge Girl!"
- Spending My Passion's set having a bit of a rave. They always put on a good show, top guys.
- Spending from when the gig ended until we got thrown out with Gus and Ben at the merch stand discussing pretty much everything.
- Gus: So many people preordered Winter Kiss, it was insane! We were up for twelve hours yesterday sending out all the orders...
Me: So you sent them out yesterday?
Gus: Yup. Did you order one?
Me: Yes! When will it get to me?
Gus: About two days, I think.
Ben: Oh no, not hers. We burnt yours, so, you know... Tough luck.
Me: Aaw, and I was going to wear it to Kerrang! tour and everything...
Ben: ... We bought you a new one?
- the sound guy really starting to scare me properly, so I ended up hiding in the merch cave behind Gus.
- Johnny and Simon bullying me into putting my hat back on
- Gus and Simon jointly deciding that Young Guns would adopt Annie and I as big brothers.
- Security guards: Alright, time to go everybody!
Me and Annie: Noooo!
Guard: *to Annie and I* Alright, move it.
Gus: *grabbing our hands* No, they're with me!
- Gus and Ben doing pictures and leaving Annie and I in charge of the merch for about ten minutes (which was hilarious to say the least)
- Packing up all the tshirts, telling Gus where everything was, unpicking all the tape... yes, we turned into merch girls :P
- Fraser promising to take me on tour as a merch girl
- My dad getting lost on the way to Hitchin... again... and Young Guns looking after me till midnight, when they had to leave. They promised to come hang with everyone in the queue for K! tour though, if I bought them food in return. Fair deal, if you ask me.
- Gus claiming the good ol' "bad back" excuse as a reason for not doing anything.
- "So, if Lostprophets are my fathers, and Young Guns are my brothers, what are My Passion?" (Annie) "Your lovers." (John Be).
- Chatting to John Be at midnight about guitar strings rusting from sweat...
- Laughing at Stape and John trying to load up the van.
- Laurence threatening me if I didn't say hi to him at K! tour, and giving me a warm get-home-safe hug.
So, yeah, Good night. I think I'm now more excited about seeing Young Guns again than any other band, though. They're just such sweet guys.
Lastly, I found out a coupla girls who were camping for K! tour in my year are planning on "stealing someone's van"... not realising that they don't know the bands in any way, shape or form. Hearing this made me laugh so much. Get over it, girls. I've met three of the bands enough to be remembered by them, and I somehow doubt I'll manage to get into their vans to sleep. Yes, that sounds kinda arrogant, but it's more just an assertion of confidence. I may not be as rich as them or as nice as them or as slaggish, but the bands always ask after me and my hat and who knows, maybe they don't mind having me around. So good luck getting into their vans, girls. You'll fucking need it. Otherwise bring duvets, shut the fuck up and camp.
So, Tuesday was pretty fun...
- Dad getting lost driving to Hitchin and ending up driving around the Sainsbury's carpark about seven times
- Getting to the right street. Not being able to see the venue - then "WAIT! Stop here!" upon seeing Si (Young Guns) standing by a van. And realising I was first in the queue o.O
- Running up a slope to find Young Guns unpacking their van, and Gus seeing me and stopping in his tracks to give me a hug (like almost every teenage girl to see Young Guns, I love that man).
- Reminding Young Guns that I hadn't seen them since last decade
- Forgetting how bloody skinny all of Young Guns are
- Gus appearing out the venue...
Noisy people: Who's that?
Me: It's Gus.
Gus: Yes, my dear?
Me: *bursts out laughing and falls off the wall*
- Befriending the guy who owned Club 85 by being quiet and polite, and persuading him to let me into the warmth. So I was sitting in the sort of anteroom for a bit, thinking "this is nice"... then getting told I could go into the venue as a "friend of Tam's". So I walked in, and ended up befriending the sound guy as well...
- Getting creeped out by the sound guy... quite a lot.
- Not having to show a ticket or ID and getting stamped as an over 18. So I just claimed to be straight edge for the night. Which is almost true.
- Hanging out at the merch stand with Young Guns for about an hour with nobody else around.
- Calling Laurence "Cruella de Ville" to his face, which made him laugh, and then we had a chat about being short. "Oh yeah, I was short... when I was seven."
- Bagging front row centre when I realised that other people had walked in too.
- Spending all of Adam's set wondering where I knew him from.
- Tweeting during Kyra's set and getting manically told off.
- Young Guns owning the night and having mad face-pulling competitions with Ben, Gus and Johnny while they were onstage.
- Gus's total blindness when I asked him for water. "I don't have any!" "Yes, you do... over there... *facepalm*" "See, we're nice guys really!"
- Seeing Matt, who is still known to me as the Raving Rabbit.
- Being addressed by Kyra's drummer as "hey, Straight-Edge Girl!"
- Spending My Passion's set having a bit of a rave. They always put on a good show, top guys.
- Spending from when the gig ended until we got thrown out with Gus and Ben at the merch stand discussing pretty much everything.
- Gus: So many people preordered Winter Kiss, it was insane! We were up for twelve hours yesterday sending out all the orders...
Me: So you sent them out yesterday?
Gus: Yup. Did you order one?
Me: Yes! When will it get to me?
Gus: About two days, I think.
Ben: Oh no, not hers. We burnt yours, so, you know... Tough luck.
Me: Aaw, and I was going to wear it to Kerrang! tour and everything...
Ben: ... We bought you a new one?
- the sound guy really starting to scare me properly, so I ended up hiding in the merch cave behind Gus.
- Johnny and Simon bullying me into putting my hat back on
- Gus and Simon jointly deciding that Young Guns would adopt Annie and I as big brothers.
- Security guards: Alright, time to go everybody!
Me and Annie: Noooo!
Guard: *to Annie and I* Alright, move it.
Gus: *grabbing our hands* No, they're with me!
- Gus and Ben doing pictures and leaving Annie and I in charge of the merch for about ten minutes (which was hilarious to say the least)
- Packing up all the tshirts, telling Gus where everything was, unpicking all the tape... yes, we turned into merch girls :P
- Fraser promising to take me on tour as a merch girl
- My dad getting lost on the way to Hitchin... again... and Young Guns looking after me till midnight, when they had to leave. They promised to come hang with everyone in the queue for K! tour though, if I bought them food in return. Fair deal, if you ask me.
- Gus claiming the good ol' "bad back" excuse as a reason for not doing anything.
- "So, if Lostprophets are my fathers, and Young Guns are my brothers, what are My Passion?" (Annie) "Your lovers." (John Be).
- Chatting to John Be at midnight about guitar strings rusting from sweat...
- Laughing at Stape and John trying to load up the van.
- Laurence threatening me if I didn't say hi to him at K! tour, and giving me a warm get-home-safe hug.
So, yeah, Good night. I think I'm now more excited about seeing Young Guns again than any other band, though. They're just such sweet guys.
Lastly, I found out a coupla girls who were camping for K! tour in my year are planning on "stealing someone's van"... not realising that they don't know the bands in any way, shape or form. Hearing this made me laugh so much. Get over it, girls. I've met three of the bands enough to be remembered by them, and I somehow doubt I'll manage to get into their vans to sleep. Yes, that sounds kinda arrogant, but it's more just an assertion of confidence. I may not be as rich as them or as nice as them or as slaggish, but the bands always ask after me and my hat and who knows, maybe they don't mind having me around. So good luck getting into their vans, girls. You'll fucking need it. Otherwise bring duvets, shut the fuck up and camp.
Sunday 17 January 2010
So today my mother told me that my brother wasn't taking a gap year before university - which really startled me. I'd always assumed that he'd take a year out, but no, apparently not - he's planning on finishing school this summer and starting Univeristy this October.
Where he goes depends on his results, but it looks like it'll either be Bath, Southampton or Birmingham, none of which are too far away. All of them are fairly easy to get to, and assuming he's allowed people to stay the night, there's a sort of unspoken agreement that if I go to gigs nearby I can just crash at his digs afterwards.
So, being a younger sister, you'd think I couldn't wait to get rid of my annoying big brother? Well... no. He's my big brother, and I've grown up with him. I can remember the fights we used to have about who sat where, hurling insults at each other until one of us snapped and made for the other (I was usually the one who snapped first, to be honest). I can remember when we were little and had our own made-up world. Nowadays, I'm older but no less annoying, and he just takes it all on the chin. He's great with small children because he's so much more patient than me. I'm impetuous and restless with a temper about as long as my fingernail. I always get ill and overact; my brother never does. He always gets him homework done on time, only ever got a detention once for something which wasn't his fault, and never causes my parents any trouble. He's practically perfect.
And I'm gonna miss him. So I have eight months before he leaves in which to annoy him as much as possible before he disappears for weeks or months at a time.
In other somewhat-related news, my father's coming home today. He's been in his childhood home of Bawdsey, which is a little village near the Suffolk coast about a hundred miles away, visiting his mother (my granny). My granny had a fall on Tuesday and fractured her ankle and knee, and my dad went down to visit her on Wednesday. Her leg's in plaster from toe to knee, and she's now got someone staying with her for the nights so that if she falls over again, they'll be able to do... something.
It's been really weird not having my dad around to threaten me with things if I don't do my homework, or yelling at me to stop winding Mum up, or telling me to stop whistling. But he's been worked up for a while now because of his mother. He'll probably take another few days off work to see her next week, too.
I'm not sure the point of this blog, other than the past few days have reminded me how much I love my family, even if I do moan about them and they do piss me off. I mean... family is family.
Where he goes depends on his results, but it looks like it'll either be Bath, Southampton or Birmingham, none of which are too far away. All of them are fairly easy to get to, and assuming he's allowed people to stay the night, there's a sort of unspoken agreement that if I go to gigs nearby I can just crash at his digs afterwards.
So, being a younger sister, you'd think I couldn't wait to get rid of my annoying big brother? Well... no. He's my big brother, and I've grown up with him. I can remember the fights we used to have about who sat where, hurling insults at each other until one of us snapped and made for the other (I was usually the one who snapped first, to be honest). I can remember when we were little and had our own made-up world. Nowadays, I'm older but no less annoying, and he just takes it all on the chin. He's great with small children because he's so much more patient than me. I'm impetuous and restless with a temper about as long as my fingernail. I always get ill and overact; my brother never does. He always gets him homework done on time, only ever got a detention once for something which wasn't his fault, and never causes my parents any trouble. He's practically perfect.
And I'm gonna miss him. So I have eight months before he leaves in which to annoy him as much as possible before he disappears for weeks or months at a time.
In other somewhat-related news, my father's coming home today. He's been in his childhood home of Bawdsey, which is a little village near the Suffolk coast about a hundred miles away, visiting his mother (my granny). My granny had a fall on Tuesday and fractured her ankle and knee, and my dad went down to visit her on Wednesday. Her leg's in plaster from toe to knee, and she's now got someone staying with her for the nights so that if she falls over again, they'll be able to do... something.
It's been really weird not having my dad around to threaten me with things if I don't do my homework, or yelling at me to stop winding Mum up, or telling me to stop whistling. But he's been worked up for a while now because of his mother. He'll probably take another few days off work to see her next week, too.
I'm not sure the point of this blog, other than the past few days have reminded me how much I love my family, even if I do moan about them and they do piss me off. I mean... family is family.
Friday 15 January 2010
The Cheated. The Mislead. The Deceived. The Obsolete. The Broken.
And at a guess, Jocko would be The Misunderstood.
They are The Betrayed.
Have a very amateur album review, done track-by-track as I listen to it:
They are The Betrayed.
Have a very amateur album review, done track-by-track as I listen to it:
Right. I hear the sound of drums. Catchy. And there's some pretty heavy, sweet riffage going on. Yes, this is IF IT WASN'T FOR HATE WE'D BE DEAD BY NOW, a song named after its first line. Lyrically the song is quite aggressive and dark, which sets the tone for the whole album and even the album design. Ian Watkin's voice is a snarl, which works well with the general song's attitude, and he manages it with some nice melodies.
The song segues perfectly into DSTRYR/DSTRYR, another angry tirade - this one directed against religion and nonbelievers (presumably in Lostprophets). The gang vocals - "Destroyer! Destroyer!" - work really well in added extra power, and the refrain of "Destroyer, destroyer, we live inside the fire, we live inside of you" builds into a powerful climax. Cue another nice riff. The only thing I would mention is that the song seems a little derivative in parts.
Aah, another interlude. This album flows very well. And now... morse code? Can anyone translate that? Ah, I hear familiar chanting. Yes, it's IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD BUT I CAN SEE IT FROM HERE, the radio-friendly lead single from the album which describes a "city of your dreams" as it "crumbles into hell". The chances are you've already heard this song round and about. Big hooks, and typical singalong choruses as we've come to expect from the Welsh guys.
I'll take this moment to praise Stu Richardson for his production capabilites. The album is polished, yet raw enough to command respect. Oh, what's this? Second single WHERE WE BELONG is probably the most poppy song on the whole album. Swap the headbanging for your hairbrush, line up to the mirror, and practise belting out the soaring hooks while marvelling at Watkins' falsetto.
After the anthemic feel to the previous song, the vicious opening to NEXT STOP ATRO CITY might catch you by surprise. This song reminds me of their first album thefakesoundofprogress - the beginning especially is rather similar. The drumming matches the frantic pace of the song. My only comment would by the slightly suspect chorus - "We've got velocity/Next stop Atro City"? Unintentionally amusing.
Isn't the beginning of a song by The Audition? Wait, who's Simon? Why's he lying? Are the Pontypridd boys after Simon Cowell now? Maybe. FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELON returns to the bouncy-rocky-metal tinged formula and inserts random names in for good measure. So, Mikey, where did you get those Nikes? I bet you stole them off Sean Smith, didn't you? Add a good dose of "whoa"s too, and you get a cheerful song which fights off the chance of a mid-album lull.
I hear synths now, and some drums? Jay sounds like he was having fun. This sounds like something out of Muse if they toned down the scary technicality a bit and stuck it in a blender with some tar. Dark and sticky - hey, when did the drums stop? Static crackle - and this, according to the tracklisting is A BETTER NOTHING. Oh dear, more falsetto. I'm getting a 4am Forever vibe. Another reference to a city being destroyed here, too. I'm not really feeling this song as much as some of the others yet. Come on boys, impress me. And... Oh, they got so close, but the slightly spooky, atmospheric vibe they injected just didn't quite take off.
Now, to cheer you up, you get some cheerful jaunty piano and Ian talking about - guess what? - a city. Well, the streets anyway, in STREETS OF NOWHERE. I guess Ian hates Pontypridd more than he lets on. It's happy and another great song to have a bit of a dance to, but there's a dark undercurrent lurking just beneath all the merry lyrics about inside jokes and monotony. Ooh, and you get some fun "la la la"-ing going on.
The song ends rather abruptly and we're thrown straight into DIRTY LITTLE HEART, a rather more melancholy song. This is the compulsory love-and-loss song, and it's actually pulled off rather well - the almost ska-like guitar in places adds a different spin on the music while keeping it light. Oh look, a reference to streets. Either this is supposed to be a concept, or that rhyming dictionary went walkies... I jest. It works well, and the song seems quite poignant.
And now, a dark prog-rock interlude. I hear lots of drums. Ooh, a piano. And synths. Was Jay feeling under-appreciated? There's something ominous about this interlude, and the hissing does nothing to ease my mind about things to come. And then DARKEST BLUE starts, a title accidentally stolen from Jack's Mannequin (Dark Blue). The guitar riff here again deserves special mention, and the song - with rather a more hopeless feel than the rest of the album - serves as a nice counterpoint to all the happy, saccharine moments. Were they all a facade?
Guitar. A slightly haunting background synth. THE LIGHT THAT SHINES TWICE AS BRIGHT is here, the epic swansong of the album, which had all of Lee's guitar parts and Ian's vocals recorded in one take. If you thought that falsetto was impressive before, try listening to it here. Lostprophets claimed to have put their heart and souls into this album. And hear that, which sounds like drumming underwater? That is their heartbeats, recorded and used as a drumbeat. Nifty idea, which has a really great effect on the ending epic song. The whole thing feels like the calm before the storm - and the thunder starts rumbling at the end. "This is how it feels" claim the band, as piano re-arrives from nowhere. Then the synths take over again, and there's a weird buzzing, which all fades away gradually. Listen carefully, and you can make out something like footsteps under the sound of someone getting an error message on the computer.
Ending thoughts - Hmm. It's two and a half years late. It's cost them over half a million dollars. It's been a labour of love, to say the least. And was it worth it? It sounds like their three previous albums have been analysed, dissected, and the best bits of each taken and liberally doused in bitterness and anger. There's heavy guitars, chants, sing-a-long choruses, and refrains that will get lodged in your conciousness and drive you crazy. So, overall - yes, it was worth it. It's the album for the disillusioned, the frustrated, the downtrodden.
It's an album for the betrayed.
Tuesday 12 January 2010
I've got some real weird friends and such good times...
So I'm listening to Lostprophets in preparation for seeing them on Monday... because basically, I am beyond excited. If I had the physical capabilites to do backflips and raise the roof via only the power of my own happy thoughts, then I would. I was excited weeks before I saw LP for the first time - from around the start of October onwards, despite all the other gigs I had, I was most looking forward to the 'Prophets. It's quite a small venue too, which makes it better. I mean, I've seen a couple of other big bands in pretty small venues (All Time Low at McClusky's, and The Blackout at Barfly/McClusky's/Clwb Ifor Bach... and the video shoot was pretty small really) but I'm still more excited about this than I have been for pretty much any other gig I've ever been to - save perhaps the two Blackout December shows (originally Portsmouth, but then the excitement got transferred to the Caerdydd show XD). But roll on Monday - I'll get to hear tracks from The Betrayed live again, hopefully having heard them on CD beforehand, so I know the words a bit better XD
And now for something completely different...
A question I was asked on my FormSpring reminded me of The Interesting Thoughts of Edward Monkton. Quirky and usually funny, and unusually philosophical for greetings cards, here are a few of my favourite designs:
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