Come Together

I have inflicted pain upon myself by drinking far too much last night. Lifestyle flu of the highest order… But as the notes in my phone tell me “I love being drunk enough to tell my friends how amazing they are and when they’re drunk enough they’ll listen and accept it.” and from a random notebook: “Had such a poignant conversation with Keri and Rory. He’s such a nice guy and is on the same wavelength, he doesn’t want to dick anyone around and hates himself when he does but is too polite to say so. I’ve had honest, open conversations so much recently that I’ve too much in my head to contend with. The world is changing and so are we. Lovely.”
So… basically, yesterday, me and Laura went down to Asda at the beach and bought various foodstuff to have a big bad bbq. Rory turned up at about 4, then Aneeka at 5 and Keri kept coming and going. The food was more successful than anticipated. Go team! Then Keri bought an “after barbecue log” which was excellent. It provided warmth and ambience apparently!

Various times, people buggered off to the shops but I remained at Baz’s the whole time and had nice discussions. The most memorable was with Baz, we discussed the future, fears, trials, tribulations, the fact that we get so stressed, but we’re not even 20 yet, we’ve got our whole lives. Anyway, this is where we got sentimental and started telling each other how excellent we are. She promised me some of her paintings and drawings and I said I’d stick them up in my room.

Later on, I bored Aneeka with tales of Robots in Disguise, which led me to give the detailed history of Sue/Chris and Dee/Noel and talk too quickly and get a dry throat. I like telling stories! (Speaking of talking too quickly, I’ve just sent an insane ramble to the Stand to ask about the David O’Doherty gigs that are gonna be taking place at said venue. It ended with something like “…anyway, I digress… I hope this doesn’t just get sent to an automated response place… but on the other hand, I feel sorry for whoever reads it if it doesn’t and has to put up with such inane whitterings.”)
[Edit: I've just got a reply answering my question -that was bloody quick! Kudos, Jan!- and completely ignoring the oddness. Good.]

I was meant to be staying at Casa de Baz but ended up going home at about 1.40am. Both Keri and Rory drove to my street, Rory parked at the other side of the road and joined us in Keri’s car and we had a nice long talk. Hence the above “They’re ace!” ramble. Odd odd times though.

I’m really annoyed that I can’t go to Connect this year. Well… I could, but it’d mean taking time off work, which is not something I’d really like to do. SO I’ve decided that I might just go for the Friday, see Manic Street Preachers (Sorry Eddie) and Sparks, then feck off. This means missing Grinderman on Saturday though. But I don’t mind so much. The only thing I’m quite sad about other than that is not being able to camp with everyone. Although would that live up to last year’s adventures of Gary, Kirsten and the Freezing Tent aka: The Chateau? I doubt it! This way I get to say I’ve been there every year too. Cheating a bit, but not completely untrue. Gah! Who knows? I’ll have to do it soon anyhow.

I’m listening to the Beatles White Album and feeling a bit trippy. Due to see the Dark Knight later, I’m quite excited. But for now I’m going to go tidy my room and watch the Day Today while sticking photos on my door.

Her drawings will hang on my wall, I’m true to my word.

Guten Tag hop-clop

I’m updating this thing far too much. I just keep having things I’d quite like to remember happen to me. They won’t mean much, but it’s nice to reflect upon the mundane sometimes.

Work was dull yesterday, but was only in from 5-8pm, so wasn’t too bad. Scott was regaling me with tales of when he worked in the kilt hire shop. You never really expect exceptionally odd things to happen in normal places, but he had lots of stories. And people I work with at the bookshop have lots of stories about different characters coming in that intrigue and excite. I’ve not had any crazy experiences yet, but I suppose it’s still early days. I like it when people talk to me though. I had a Finnish woman in a few weeks ago who was telling me all about how she knows nine languages, her ex-husband and her divorced two years ago but are still friends and go on holiday together, her son is an accomplished 37 year old jazz pianist who is relatively well known in Finland. I told her I’d been to Helsinki in 2002 and loved it. She seemed happy as she thinks Helsinki is beautiful, but she prefers Scotland and reckons she was born in the wrong place. It’s odd to think that people who have somewhere like that, so unbelievably… for want of a better word, lovely, as their capital could dream of living somewhere like Aberdeen. I’m less reluctant to admit Aberdeen is a nice place these days. I used to be stubborn and damn every thing about it, but now I can accept that it looks quite nice on a sunny day and that I’d rather be living here than out in the country. Still, I’d rather be somewhere else, somewhere new to explore and get lost in.
Two drifters off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world to see
Which leads me neatly to my next subject… London. Oh, that old chestnut!

Me and Gracie managed to torture ourselves a bit last night by searching for cheap flats to rent in London. Oddly, we found affordable ones that weren’t horrific looking. Some of them were in places like Brixton that would be fantastic to live in. We both have that one main goal of living in the UK’s metropolis and we both share determination to do so, but lack the funds. So, this has allowed us to give ourselves a target of £5000 (I’ve just found out that’s €6324 for Graceface) by… I don’t think we set a date, but in the late night/early morning madness, we’ve realised that having a monetary target is better than nothing. Anyway, THEN we start looking seriously into moving. I think we’re ignoring the big problem of how the hell we get there from Scotland and Ireland, but eff and jeff that! I’d happily only bring a backpack full of clothes with me down on the megabus! It got us excited and lifted me out of a… numb mood. I don’t really know how I’ve been feeling the past few weeks. It only really struck me today when the father came in and said “Alright? You seem a bit down recently…” This is the first time I can recall him ever picking up on something like that. Let alone the first time he’s picked up on something that I didn’t even notice too much, so couldn’t have been giving strong signals of. Does that make sense? I don’t want to read it back because I suspect it doesn’t and then I’ll have to try and think of a better way of phrasing it again.

I’ve just stumbled upon this. Now I’m not going to claim to have a wide knowledge of what goes on property-wise. Some might say I know nothing of the crunch, but I can predict right now frogular Alex Salmond will take credit for it all going swimmingly and people will believe him and keep voting for him. Shitnuts.

I’m going to veer away from that or I’ll only reveal my ignorance of politics (but I knows what I likes). In a few hours, I’m off to go to some viewing of an auction that’s happening tomorrow. I’ve never been to an auction before, but we’re going to go to see if we can pick up anything for my sister. She’s on the lookout for mainly Victorian things to collect.  
This is the actual word-for-word list of things for us to look out for for her and her boyfriend:
Mermaid things
Raven
Crow
Barn Owl
Dagger
Butterflies
Busts
Etchings
Optical things – sciency
Anatomical things
Apothecary things
Freaks
Victorian circus
Theatrical posters
Diving thing
Phrenology
Newspapers
Old magic tricks
Swords
Ships in bottles
Japanese things
Bonsai trees
Limbs
Gauntlets
Silhouettes
Keys – a really big one
Birdcages
Evil monkey on a perch holding an apple (no hat)
Monkey riding on a goat (with hat)
Monkey with cymbals
Victorian albinos (preferably twins)
Memento mori
Theosophist pics
Siamese twins
Lantern slides

I like how specific some of it is. I’d like to get her an owl so she can put it in her room and then quote Snuff Box, “This is my room. I’ve got a stuffed owl and some whisky.”
‘Limbs’ is bewildering. I nearly said to her “We’re not Jack the Ripper…” but this is evident as he only collected innards…
I like the sound of all this stuff anyway. I’m bang into Victorian shizz. I’ve got a big book list written for when I can afford things again. The majority of it consists of obscure music books about Johnny Thunders and the Cure that would have to be ordered, but I’ve realised there’s quite a few books on Jack the Ripper and Victorian executioners and stuff. I was interested in all that capital punishment hoopla but I think Snuff Box has brought out the hangman obsessive in me. They’re interesting fellows. I only really know about Pierrepoint, but there’s a few others that keep cropping up in things I’ve read that sound intriguing. Notably, James Berry. He was one of the well-known ones and he’s referenced in Snuff Box. I don’t know if it is merely coincidence that Matt’s brother in the show is called James or it is attention to detail but knowing Sir Matt of Berry, it’ll be the latter.

Ah, I’ve just stumbled upon this and done an “Aww…” at the sight of those friends I have not seen in many a month. I miss those fools. I haven’t done any shameless promotion for them in ages… So, go here: www.myspace.com/1990sband 
They’s good people.

Right; to auction!

Big Dawg in the theatre

Me and the Baz decided we’d go see the Dark Knight last night after work. We got to the cinema, ready to say “Two for Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging–I mean the Dark Knight, please.” but by the time we reached the desk, we saw that both showings were sold out. Laura had already seen all the other films that were on and I wasn’t inspired by any so we buggered off back to her’s after a trip to Tesco for petrol.

We ended up back at her’s watching Derailed. CLIVE! I thought my mother and I must have seen every Clive Owen film in existence, but apparently not! There was a time last year where me and her were renting films pretty much every few days to numb the boredom-pains and she ended up choosing ones that always had Clive in them. She claims it was an accident, but I’m not sure if I should believe mother dearest on this one! Anyway, we watched that and Keri came round in the middle of it. She saw Lee Evans live was on tv so got excited while I gritted my teeth and put up with it for all of two minutes. Thank god Laura had the remote though. She hovered on the More4 display thing (eff off, I don’t have sky, I don’t know the lingo) and it said there was a Father Ted double bill on. I grinned and she switched it to that, hurrah! Linehan wins.

Keri buggered off and we fell asleep after discussing what tattoos we’d get. We awoke early and watched a variation of Jerry, This Morning, One Tree Hill (???) and Coronation Street, occasionally glancing over at each other to shout “WESTWOOD!” inexplicably. We’ve decided that we’re going to write Westwood: The Musical all about a vicar’s son turned… well… we’re not really sure how it ends. Drive-by? Prison? Jumper-shopping?

In other news, I have a sort of obscure Flight of the Conchords thing stuck in my head. One very specific part of a live show they did during Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenocerous (Featuring the Hiphopopotamus and Rhymenocerous) It’s just Bret’s bit where he goes,
“When I say ‘ooh’ all the fellas go ‘owf owf!’: Ooh!”
“Owf owf!”
“Ooh!”
“Owf owf!”
“But keep it real sexy, fellas. Ooh!”
“Owf owf!”
“Ooh!”
“Owf owf!”
“That’s ma dogs…”

I think it’s all this talk of Westwood… I actually did a typo there and put “Westwoof” by accident. Which reminds me, yesterday at Tesco, Baz parked the car and we were ready to get out when we saw the nearest car to us had this huge German shepherd in the driver’s seat. “DOG DRIVING A CAR! DOG DRIVING A CAR!” we shouted and cried with laughter while taking pictures…

Ace times…
Anyway, going back to the Conchords. I think I’m a bit in love with Jemaine. I watched Eagle vs. Shark the other day and thought he was hilarious. He is the New Zealand version of Napoleon Dynamite… Bret’s awesome too though, don’t get me wrong. He’s not just wild, he’s trained, domesticated.

Off to work soon. Only three hours. I quite like Monday nights too, it’s relatively quiet and there’s good people in. We’re looking for full time staff now, but apparently noone wants it ‘cos it’s just students who need part time jobs for summer. Sad times. Ah well, I’m sure someone’ll prove themselves to be up to such a task…

California dreaming

It’s too hot.
I’ve been at Laura’s a lot over the past few days and we’ve all agreed that her house was unbearably warm. BUT she does have a fan… which is nice.
THOSE WERE INTERESTING OPENING SENTENCES…
That was sarcasm.

I’ve realised that I hate myself for in the past having uttered the phrase “Aww, I love Drunk [Name of Associate]!” especially when I’ve said this in front of the person I’m talking about. I can’t imagine there’s much worse than being told by someone who never mentions that they love you that they love a version of you that isn’t the actual you. You probably go out of your way to appear charming and endearing most of the time, only for that to not be acknowledged, overpowered by the fact that you might stumble over a shoelace every few steps. “Oh my god, you falling over is way funnier than anything you’ve ever said!”
I’m glad I stopped telling people this.

Speaking of boring alcohol-related patter, I also dislike it when people can tell you exactly what they had to drink and in what quantities. It’s not impressive, love, it only tells me that your highest achievement is that you managed to afford it all. And money’s no real achievement.
People who at the time of mild inebriation insist on coming up to you and saying the words, “Oh my god, I’m so drunk!” also irritate the fingernails off of me. As do the people who will make you feel like a degenerate after they’ve seen you intoxicated. You’ve no reason to feel bad unless you know for a fact in a drunken state you’ve molested a member of their family or killed their guinea pig. You’re only human and they are not superior; it just so happens that they didn’t stumble over their own shoelaces (but oh my god, when you did that, it was SO FUNNY!!!) or do a genuine, accidental spoonerism.

If this is the sort of thing conversation inevitably turns to with friends months after the event, you need some new friends. Or at least help them to experience actual life. They obviously haven’t if these “adventures” are the highlights of their year.

I think we’re off the alcohol subject now. I also hate my advice being ignored after it has been so desperately sought. I hate when people read things I’ve been working on in notebooks that are lying around (as is their right to be) without asking. I hate when people don’t complain about things that need to be complained about. I hate that I know more about most people than they know about me despite them having known me forever. Don’t get me wrong, I like listening to what others have to say, but it’s just rude when the one time you tell someone about something vaguely interesting in your life and they’ve forgotten two days later when you mention it again. I hate not being able to have people to speak passionately about things with. I hate the way that someone will see that it makes others laugh when they say genuinely stupid things, so from then on take advantage of this and purposely say more idiotic things. I hate feeling so far away and isolated from the things I love most. This is fueled by the fact that I am up top while everything good is down south. I hate having to resort to negative blogging about things I hate purely because I can’t sleep. I hate not sleeping.

Hush hush, my love!

I feel I may be cheating slightly, or being rather self-indulgent as I’ve just set up this account while already having been committed to the eBall and chain, livejournal for a number of years now. Two blogs, eh? I don’t quite know what to do. I’ll probably update them both with the same thing for a while… But I doubt many people will read this, so it may be made redundant.

Either way, that’s not really important. Why spend life worrying about the trivial when there’s bigger things to think about? Most of my thoughts consist of wondering if and when I can move to London. I’ve truly got London on the brain. That’d be quite a big move though, I feel. ABDN – LDN. Jesus. Any advice on cheap flats to rent would be amazing. This is the part where I’m to be imagined as having a charming smile.

Speaking of charm, I decided the other week to keep a track of all the Witty Banter I’ve engaged in with strangers. “Why the hell?” I hear you cry. It just occurred to me when out with Dame Laura of Barrie that I end up saying cringe-worthingly charming things to strangers in an attempt to fill any awkward silence with chuckles or inanities. So I wrote down a few examples of encounters I’d had that day where I’ve thrown a lame comment into the mix when dealing with shop assistants/waiters/etc. Then I realised that this must be stopped when I started working at the bookshop. The inanity-counter exploded as with each customer, I attempted to engage in crappy chit-chat. Too much to remember, essentially. And it’s usually the same thing “Argh! These machines are a bit temperamental sometimes, the scanner’s definitely got a mind of its own, ho ho!” Please. Kill. Me.
I don’t think people want this. I’ll admit that I secretly quite enjoy waiting for reactions of strangers to stupid polite things I say, just to see if they’ll do the same or look at me with pity. I feel sorry for the customers I put through that, “Please stop talking, I only want to take advantage of this 3 for 2 Richard and Judy’s Summer Reads offer.”
Poor sods.

I got a call yesterday from a number I didn’t recognise, so didn’t answer. (When asked why by Laura, I wasn’t really sure… I just never answer unless I know who it is, which on reflection is a ridiculous way to live, isn’t it?) They left an answerphone message and it turns out it was the other shop offering me a job there. I’m wondering whether or not it would be possible to work at both seeing as I only work two days a week at the one I’m already at… Intriguing prospect. I’ll discuss it with some people then call back tomorrow. Keep ‘em waiting, that is truly the way of the she-bastard.