... I have further cemented that view today by happening to be reading The Virgin Suicides as some of them walked past me today:
'What's that about?'
'Five sisters that kill themselves'
'Are you reading it for class or for pleasure?'
'Pleasure'
'Ooh-k...'
*emo sigh*
Monday 30 October 2006
Friday 27 October 2006
Glimpses of my future
I love it when my mum calls me and then puts the dog on for me to have a conversation with.
Mum: You galavanting?
Me: No
Mum: You going to be galavanting?
Me: Well, I'm going to the cinema later to see this film 'Step Up' [getting more animated and excited] about a guy who's like on parole or something and he starts working at a dance school and then become the partner of one of the dancers for the big show!
Mum: This isn't one of you're Polish films is it?
Me: Polish?!
Mum: All arty with subtitles and that
Me: Does it sound anywhere nearly approaching Polish or arty? It has hip hop dancing in parking lots and a 'big show' at the end. This is basically the plot of Sister Act 2 but with dancing instead of singing.
Mum: Well I know what you're like. We both do dont we amby-bamby [insert mindless baby talk to dog here concluding with...] do you want to speak to her too?
Me: ...
And so it goes.
Mum: You galavanting?
Me: No
Mum: You going to be galavanting?
Me: Well, I'm going to the cinema later to see this film 'Step Up' [getting more animated and excited] about a guy who's like on parole or something and he starts working at a dance school and then become the partner of one of the dancers for the big show!
Mum: This isn't one of you're Polish films is it?
Me: Polish?!
Mum: All arty with subtitles and that
Me: Does it sound anywhere nearly approaching Polish or arty? It has hip hop dancing in parking lots and a 'big show' at the end. This is basically the plot of Sister Act 2 but with dancing instead of singing.
Mum: Well I know what you're like. We both do dont we amby-bamby [insert mindless baby talk to dog here concluding with...] do you want to speak to her too?
Me: ...
And so it goes.
Saturday 21 October 2006
I done radio I did...
...... and it was awesome. Sort of. For the first 45 minutes I didn't actually have the sound turned up on my microphone so everyone missed my comedy GOLD chat.
Which was a shame.
Although I'm told it sounded like 'artistic silence'.
Which is... a lie. But a nice one.
They've extended my show by an hour due to my supreme awesomness (and also because the slot is free). But mostly it's the awesomeness.
You must listen next week because I actually know what the hell I'm doing now.
Go to www.gu2.co.uk Saturday at 2pm. Be there or be... somewhere else.
I'm going to go and make posters to advertise my show around campus now because I'm that cool. That does make me cool right? Good. I thought so.
Which was a shame.
Although I'm told it sounded like 'artistic silence'.
Which is... a lie. But a nice one.
They've extended my show by an hour due to my supreme awesomness (and also because the slot is free). But mostly it's the awesomeness.
You must listen next week because I actually know what the hell I'm doing now.
Go to www.gu2.co.uk Saturday at 2pm. Be there or be... somewhere else.
I'm going to go and make posters to advertise my show around campus now because I'm that cool. That does make me cool right? Good. I thought so.
Tuesday 10 October 2006
The Aftermath
Birthday week is over. For the most part it was good, not everything went according to plan exactly but if I resolutely stuck to all the things I had in mind initially then I just wouldn't be me.
The only day last week that I really felt like hiding under my covers and never emerging again was Thursday. Possibly not helped by the fact I went to the 'Senior Screen' (where you get to see a film with a bunch of oldies for the princely sum of £2.50) showing of United 93. From the time the second plane was shown to hit the tower I was sobbing my eyes out. I wrapped my scarf around the lower part of my head to muffle the noise I was making and try and cover up the twisted features of my face (why in films do people always look so attractive and vulnerable when they cry yet in real life if you cry proper you end up looking like some demented life form extra from Doctor Who?) and it was sodden with tears by the end. I guess true stories about death and destruction isn't the kind of light-hearted fare that pulls one out of the doldrums.
I then decided I needed to cheer myself up but, surprisingly, reading about William Burroughs heroin addiction and eating carrot cake in Starbucks didn't even do the trick. Thus, later that evening, I forced myself into going along to the uni radio station pub crawl (I should have my own shown sometime soon. Probably. Hopefully. I think). Whenever I tell people I have gone and done things like that by myself, where I don't really know another soul in attendance, people are always slightly incredulous and treat me as soon sort of curious half-brave/half-stupid creature. I honestly don't see the big deal, if it's shite you can slip away unnoticed and be filled with overwhelming feelings of self-loathing and hatred towards mankind that lasts an hour or so, or; and more likely, you can go and talk to people you wouldn't normally talk to and end up having a surprisingly good time. I managed to somehow avoid the first option despite every fibre in my being willing me to leave after the first pub (let's just say my whole theory about girls being evil is true. Nice enough on their own. Evil in its purest form in groups). But I stuck it out to the bitter end with most of my dignity intact and even having charmed some people along the way (Possibly. Maybe. I think). Don't get me wrong, I don't reckon any of these guys are going to be my new 'omgomg bestest best friends' but sometimes it's fun to just hang out with people you wouldn't normally hang out with and find that, actually, they aren't really all that bad. Since I stopped assuming I could tell who I was going to hate on sight, the world has been a much fluffy-bunnier place (in a good way and purely metaphorically in case that sounds like some sort of terrifying glimpse into my mental state).
The funny thing was as green as all the 18-year-olds seem to me; I appear to be just as ancient to them. It never really occurred to me that they would think that. But then, when I was 18 anything above 21 seemed over the hill a bit. The one thing it did drive home was that, I would never ever ever want to go back to being that age again. Some people view their formative years as an adult with a wistful reverie (I don't think anyone still perpetrates the myth about school days being the best of your life anymore do they? We all know by now that is the biggest load of horseshit since it was revealed Santa Claus isn't some morbidly obese guy that breaks into your house once a year and leaves creepy love tokens - or 'presents' if you will. I've just had a seminar on stalking behaviours, I know there's a fine line there and that old dude is crossing it) but really, even if I'm extremely happy with all the mistakes I've made up to now - and continue to make - there is no way I can see myself getting so drunk with a bunch of strangers (with my friends? hella yeah) that I fall asleep IN THE PUB or show everyone MY BRA to prove what cup size I am (although, to be fair, the girls are often on display but rarely do I pull down my top and expose my underwear. Anymore) or getting off with the ugliest man in the group just because he's been showing me a bit of attention and I've been desperately looking for someone to do that the whole night and he's the only one left. Oh to be young again!
Not that I think I've got it all figured out, but as I get older I've got increasingly comfortable with who I am and my place in the world. It's nice. As I said, I still make mistakes but I'm getting better at not just doing stupid stuff for the sake of doing it, especially things I know I will regret later. I also don't SEEM to be making the same mistakes twice anymore. I'm getting good at identifying destructive behaviour and stopping it before it starts. Not letting guys dictate my self worth. That sort of thing. Having said all that, I'm still as big a goon as ever. I still walk around campus singing the Pokemon theme tune with Chloe, or call Carlos a prick, not talk to him for three days and then be shocked that he thought I was in a mood with him, I still get completely flustered when the guy that works in the uni cafe is nice to me, I still get overly excited when I hear the opening bars of 'Loveshack', I still try and force people into fights just because I sometimes enjoy having a really big argument, or even worse - am really passive aggressive when something/someone has annoyed me
I guess this blog is a bit more reflective than usual, normal programming will be resumed as soon as possible. Apologies for any inconvenience caused.
The only day last week that I really felt like hiding under my covers and never emerging again was Thursday. Possibly not helped by the fact I went to the 'Senior Screen' (where you get to see a film with a bunch of oldies for the princely sum of £2.50) showing of United 93. From the time the second plane was shown to hit the tower I was sobbing my eyes out. I wrapped my scarf around the lower part of my head to muffle the noise I was making and try and cover up the twisted features of my face (why in films do people always look so attractive and vulnerable when they cry yet in real life if you cry proper you end up looking like some demented life form extra from Doctor Who?) and it was sodden with tears by the end. I guess true stories about death and destruction isn't the kind of light-hearted fare that pulls one out of the doldrums.
I then decided I needed to cheer myself up but, surprisingly, reading about William Burroughs heroin addiction and eating carrot cake in Starbucks didn't even do the trick. Thus, later that evening, I forced myself into going along to the uni radio station pub crawl (I should have my own shown sometime soon. Probably. Hopefully. I think). Whenever I tell people I have gone and done things like that by myself, where I don't really know another soul in attendance, people are always slightly incredulous and treat me as soon sort of curious half-brave/half-stupid creature. I honestly don't see the big deal, if it's shite you can slip away unnoticed and be filled with overwhelming feelings of self-loathing and hatred towards mankind that lasts an hour or so, or; and more likely, you can go and talk to people you wouldn't normally talk to and end up having a surprisingly good time. I managed to somehow avoid the first option despite every fibre in my being willing me to leave after the first pub (let's just say my whole theory about girls being evil is true. Nice enough on their own. Evil in its purest form in groups). But I stuck it out to the bitter end with most of my dignity intact and even having charmed some people along the way (Possibly. Maybe. I think). Don't get me wrong, I don't reckon any of these guys are going to be my new 'omgomg bestest best friends' but sometimes it's fun to just hang out with people you wouldn't normally hang out with and find that, actually, they aren't really all that bad. Since I stopped assuming I could tell who I was going to hate on sight, the world has been a much fluffy-bunnier place (in a good way and purely metaphorically in case that sounds like some sort of terrifying glimpse into my mental state).
The funny thing was as green as all the 18-year-olds seem to me; I appear to be just as ancient to them. It never really occurred to me that they would think that. But then, when I was 18 anything above 21 seemed over the hill a bit. The one thing it did drive home was that, I would never ever ever want to go back to being that age again. Some people view their formative years as an adult with a wistful reverie (I don't think anyone still perpetrates the myth about school days being the best of your life anymore do they? We all know by now that is the biggest load of horseshit since it was revealed Santa Claus isn't some morbidly obese guy that breaks into your house once a year and leaves creepy love tokens - or 'presents' if you will. I've just had a seminar on stalking behaviours, I know there's a fine line there and that old dude is crossing it) but really, even if I'm extremely happy with all the mistakes I've made up to now - and continue to make - there is no way I can see myself getting so drunk with a bunch of strangers (with my friends? hella yeah) that I fall asleep IN THE PUB or show everyone MY BRA to prove what cup size I am (although, to be fair, the girls are often on display but rarely do I pull down my top and expose my underwear. Anymore) or getting off with the ugliest man in the group just because he's been showing me a bit of attention and I've been desperately looking for someone to do that the whole night and he's the only one left. Oh to be young again!
Not that I think I've got it all figured out, but as I get older I've got increasingly comfortable with who I am and my place in the world. It's nice. As I said, I still make mistakes but I'm getting better at not just doing stupid stuff for the sake of doing it, especially things I know I will regret later. I also don't SEEM to be making the same mistakes twice anymore. I'm getting good at identifying destructive behaviour and stopping it before it starts. Not letting guys dictate my self worth. That sort of thing. Having said all that, I'm still as big a goon as ever. I still walk around campus singing the Pokemon theme tune with Chloe, or call Carlos a prick, not talk to him for three days and then be shocked that he thought I was in a mood with him, I still get completely flustered when the guy that works in the uni cafe is nice to me, I still get overly excited when I hear the opening bars of 'Loveshack', I still try and force people into fights just because I sometimes enjoy having a really big argument, or even worse - am really passive aggressive when something/someone has annoyed me
I guess this blog is a bit more reflective than usual, normal programming will be resumed as soon as possible. Apologies for any inconvenience caused.
Monday 2 October 2006
So far...
... Quincy fridge magnets and Ross Noble DVDs are easing the pain of having to endure another birthday.
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