Friday, November 16, 2007

Bora Bora

I want to be here. Now. Somebody make this happen.


Subject lines in my spam inbox-

-Stop Smoking Today!

-Live Life To The Fullest!

-Eat What You Want Without Gaining Weight!

-Become A Great Lover With Full Ejaculatory Control!

Maybe I'm just exhausted, but that combination of subjects amused the hell out of me.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Random ten

1. Jailbird- Primal Scream
2. The Ghetto- Donny Hathaway
3. The Gentry Cove- Dirty Pretty Things
4. Christmas Is All Around- Billy Mack
5. It's Oh So Quiet- Bjork
6. Alfie- Lily Allen
7. We'll Live And Die In These Towns- The Enemy
8. Somethin' Stupid- Frank and Nancy Sinatra
9. Judy Is A Punk- The Ramones
10. Here Comes The Sun- The Beatles

11. Death Or Glory- The Clash
12. Centerfold- The J. Geils Band

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Not a good sign

I've watched the 'Medley' bit from Girls Aloud's "Live From Wembley" DVD so many times, I know the choreography.

This. Is not good.

and on a GA-related note, this is case-in-point why I adore Sarah.

I used to wake up my mum by playing Manic Monday by the Bangles when I was seven, but the first song I heard that made me think "Wahey! Music is fab!" was Don't Look Back in Anger when I was 11. I remember going to Glastonbury in a Volkswagen hippie van and having it large.


As much as I loved Blur because of Damon Albarn - I had pictures of him all over my diary at school - musically, I preferred Oasis. I've met Noel and Liam, we had a good old chat at the Met Bar, and they're lovely guys. I didn't tell them how much they meant to me. But they know I'm a massive fan. Mind you, when I met Liam I felt like a right twat, because they were going on tour and I said: "Wicked, are you going to do some of the old stuff?" He was probably thinking: "Fuck you."

My day

7AM- cat wakes me up, wanting to be petted

7:01- cat is pitched gently from the bed

7:20- Give up on returning to sleep, go turn on computer

8:40- Realize, SHIT, have to leave for work in 10 minutes, and am still in pajamas

9:00- Arrive at work. In actual clothes. Start assessing all that needs to be done before open houses this weekend

9:10- Consider throwing store stereo onto highway for the first time today

9:13- Catch glance of self in mirror, scream

9:15- As to avoid frightening customers, apply makeup

9:17- Ahhhh, sweet lady caffeine

9:18- Stone. Cold. Panic. Realize that not only is Mom AWOL from the shop till next Wednesday, that my brother and his family are also arriving at the house that day, and that Thursday is FUCKING THANKSGIVING. AND I AM THE SOLE COOK. AND THAT WE HAVE NO GROCERIES IN THE HOUSE. AND I AM ON OVERTIME AS OF FRIDAY, THEREFORE HAVE NO TIME TO SHOP.

9:19- Breathe into paper bag

9:21- To assist in regaining my sanity, gaze at a picture of Drew McConnell. He's so lovely.

9:25- My ever-so-cheerful father arrives at the shop and asks me why we weren't working on the funeral work we have. I replied that the visitation was tomorrow. He says that no, it was today. The casket spray is in shades of purple. WE HAVE NO, REPEAT, NO PURPLE FLOWERS IN THE COOLER. BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING FALL!!!!

9:26- Breathe into paper bag while on phone to funeral home director.

9:27- Thank fuck, it IS tomorrow. Thanks, Dad. JAYSUS.

10:01- Deal with first stupid ad rep of the day

11:00- Ah, things are going smoothly. My coworker, Denise is so calm and reasonable. Shit, here comes Dad again. Doesn't he have a job?

11:01- Dad informs me that his sleep-deprived wife is freaking out about not being here for the open houses, and is intending to drive back from my sis's house today, and go back up on Monday.

11:02- On phone to Mom, paper bag handy. Convince her that we have the situ handled. Successfully.

11:15- proofread ad for regional paper. Which was apparently designed by a blind and illiterate person.

12:03PM- Goody. Here's Dad again. What is he going to say that makes me flip my shit this time?


12:05- Denise hands me the picture of Drew*

12:06- On phone to Mom. It's hard to carry on a convo while breathing into a paper bag.

12:07- Direct quote from my mother- "Your father is on crack. I'm staying here."

12:08- Consider beating my father to death with a can of leaf shine

Basically, I averaged 2 minutes of blind, shit-shocked horror and panic an hour FOR 8 HOURS TODAY.

I need a nap.

*yeah, that didn't really happen, but it would have been awesome, right? She would have if I'd asked. This is the woman who when I was dealing with a similar panic-inducing day, went over to the cooler, got out one of our sample bottles of wine, and poured me a coffee cup full of calm. Well, calmer.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Hee hee

Silly MEN writer, James is a ginger, not a blonde.... best hair in rock, that.

Bassist James Johnston barely emerged from behind his voluminous blond locks during the entire duration of the show and the lights were little more than a haphazard series of retina-searing strobe flashes.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Santa Maria di Merino

Santa Maria di Merino, originally uploaded by Vestanus.

I have to learn to turn the florist off. Instead of seeing a gorgeous statue of Mary, I see the unfortunate roses and baby's breath combo, as well as the phallic Antherium lillies.

Oh yeah, and the Madonna.

Mont St Michel sheep

Mont St Michel sheep, originally uploaded by Grobbs.


A complicated relationship we've had, we two. The thing is, we're so opposite in personality- she's so reserved, and I'm definitely not; she's so type A, and again, I'm definitely not.

I was always more academic, though she got the better grades. (I am a hopeless slackass) She was the record-setting athlete, but I excelled in speech, writing and drama.

She found her partner her sophomore year of high school, and married him at 21. And I still haven't found what I'm looking for (Jesus, did I just quote U2? I must be upset) at an age a teensy bit above 21.

We drifted apart after I moved back to Iowa from Texas (as to avoid a complete psychotic break). In fact, we really didn't speak throughout her pregnancy, as we're both damnably stubborn, and hold grudges.

When her daughter was born, I had no plans to go see her, but she (not the baby) called me, and begged me to come up. It's not been all sunshine and roses since then, but we've become very close.

So it breaks my fucking heart to hear the news tonight that her second pregnancy- girlfriend gets knocked up so damned quickly- is in the process of ending at six weeks. Things are so different, this time around. I can't stop crying.

Plans that were made- shot to hell. You just never know, do you? Life can turn on a dime.

Oh, oh dearie me

Please, somebody tell me that when Jaime Winstone picked this outfit, that she had been up in her boyfriend's (Alfie Allen) room, smoking weed.

Shuffle amuses me

Last song played- 'For Lovers'- Pete and Wolfman

Current song- 'Monkey Man'- The Rolling Stones

Sunday, November 11, 2007


As he provided a pivotal bonding moment with one of my dearest friends, I have a major soft spot for Sam Rockwell.

We were talking about movies at work. The subject of 'Charlie's Angels' came up.

Me- "Yeah, he was kind of skeevy looking...."

Joy- "Until you found out he was evil and...."

Together- "HE STARTED DANCING!!!!'

I meet Sam Rockwell at the Four Seasons Hotel, Beverly Hills. He's almost sexy, but he's odd. He's wearing incongruous clothes. Smart blazer, bashed-up blue cords, thick white socks with shoes. He has wispy longish hair and a strange, sleazy Seventies thick moustache. No, it's not for a part, it's for 'shits and giggles', he laughs. But he has sad brown eyes. Sometimes they dart everywhere round the world, sometimes they gaze intensely, and then they become heavy, eyelids drooping.