Friday, 29 May 2009
Moments from the beginning,
I can feel its arrival,
But yet cannot live it.
It’s almost tangible.
Here on the edge,
I ignore what is now,
I look to the future,
I forget the past.
It becomes tangible.
I want the beginning,
And create the end.
From tangible to nothingness,
The beginning is lost to me.
As a result, I intend to point and shake my way through 2 Many DJ’s at Manchester Academy. I’m already excited and such is my excitement that I may get some practice in beforehand…….
Point, waggle and shake like you mean it. ;-)
Thursday, 28 May 2009
Her message made comment on my ‘There is light’ blog, where I take the ‘painting the town red’ metaphor and extend it. In an earlier message, I’d offered her a special brush so that she could accompany me on my evening of mayhem, she responded “a special brush, I want a fooking roller”. If you find this statement as funny as I did, you’re welcome to join our celebration of crazy.
This is the blog she referred to http://1974haze.blogspot.com/2009/05/there-is-light.html
Wednesday, 27 May 2009
By the way - I should point out that I’ve attained some wisdom as the years have passed and now always stop drinking long before I pass out. However I’m still wonderfully skilled at looking ridiculous in front of men to whom I’m attracted. I always make a lasting impression just not always the one intended.
I wonder why I decided to study three courses simultaneously. With the benefit of hindsight, not the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s very difficult to invest sufficient time in all three of them, particularly when time management is practically unknown to me. I can describe its meaning but actually practice it - nope. Less socialising and more studying is what’s required, either that or the Degree takes rather longer than I intended, I focus on fun and say goodbye to Uni until next year. A tempting thought.
I’ve studied for many years now – people often say, have you finished your course now because you’ve been studying for ages (their emphasis tends to be on ‘finished’ and ‘ages’). I think there is a perception out there somewhere (I point my finger vaguely to outline this point) that I keep failing and starting my studies from scratch. I don’t, I’ve finished and passed a number of courses since embarking upon the virtually ludicrous plan of being a part-time, self-funding student. There are qualifications and I have the paperwork in a drawer somewhere.
I began studying back in 1998 (I think) and have been a part-time student ever since. I anticipate a bit of break after this current phase, then probably more courses – maybe something less intense, like pottery or erm Feng Shui. Learning is fun or at least that’s what Universities and the like tell us. Currently, I’m not sure I agree with them. However, it is wonderful to hold knowledge and I believe that the pursuit and receipt of knowledge encourages you to grow as a person, as long as you don’t become conceited and deem those who appear to hold less knowledge to be smaller than you are. We are all learning, one way or another. It’s just that some of us, the slightly crazy ones, decide to hand over their hard-earned cash to assimilate someone else’s knowledge. Deep sigh…..
When I’ve completed all three essay’s, I’m going to have a really long sleep, then go out into the social world and paint the town a kaleidoscope of colours because painting the town red will not encapsulate the extent of the fun I intend to have. When I go out, I suggest you stay in or else be covered in the bright, sparkly and slightly cheeky paint of my mayhem. I’ll be like Jim Carey in The Mask only less green and female. It will take me hours to get ready and Human Traffic moments will be integral.
Monday, 25 May 2009
Thought I'd add the 'Grace and out of me' video to my profile. A classic song by Sucioperro. Watch and enjoy.
Just in case it hasnt worked properly the link is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbnhkklOkMc
Speaking of dust, I focus on 'Angel Dust'. I heard the album by chance late on Saturday night. It brought back some good memories. It was a pleasant surprise because I used to practically pray at the church of 'Faith No More'. I had 'The Real Thing' on tape (yes tape). I bought it again on CD a few years back. An old boyfriend had 'Angel Dust' on tape (yes tape) so I didnt get round to buying it (I was poor so it was more cost effective to listen to his copy). We listened to them in his Fiat Uno, along with 'The Red Hot Chilli Peppers' and 'Metallica'. I'm glad that 'Faith No More' have reformed and will be reintroducing them into my music life on a long-term basis.
Thank you 'Kelis' for your mood altering / housework passing songs and thank you 'Faith No More' for enhancing what was already a very enjoyable Saturday evening.
Sunday, 24 May 2009
Anyway, Sleepless in seattle is quite an effective hangover cure when taken with water and painkillers. I love that film. I have it on video - actual VHS. Those were the days, when you had to rewind films to find the beginning. The film is all about soul mates, signs, destiny and love. It reminds me that love matters and will somehow get you through life. I cried a little, laughed a lot. I've seen the film many times and find that it has a therapeutic effect. Even if you're an ardent fan of films that you'd expect to find Willis or Van dam in, it's definately worth a watch. If only to admire Meg Ryan or the New York landscape.
Friday, 22 May 2009
Thursday, 21 May 2009
those you didnt know become the substance of your soul,
treading water whilst all around stride on,
then waking up from a half-sleep,
unaware of your dream,
destiny's alarm chimes out,
choices become your own,
suddenly an active participant,
from mindless to elective receiver,
you live the message and it belongs to you.
Wednesday, 20 May 2009
Onto a detailed discussion of 'Pain Agency', moving through track by track we begin at ‘Liquids’, and what a beginning, a song of musical intensity, at times gentle and at others hard-edged. In many ways it washes over you like a liquid. You feel the music and don’t simply hear it. Then arriving at ‘The Dissident Code’, uplifting and awesome, the song title alone is an achievement. I find myself smiling upon hearing it. Onto the third track, ‘Mums bad punk music’, I’d already played this track many times before buying the album. Somewhere around the midpoint of the track the music changes, I’m told it’s called the drop b section (for those that understand musical terminology). It’s utterly wonderful. At track four, sadly almost halfway through the album, we reach ‘Are you convinced’. An orchestral intro before the vocal begins, bouncing riffs and harmonies that fit together like a musical puzzle. And I am convinced, convinced of the tracks stupendous brilliance. A powerful lyric snippet is: “What we want, what we need, are one in the same thing”. We reach track five ’Don’t change what can’t you understand’, again I’d heard this before the album many times, the message it conveys to me is one of anger at falsities, how some people in life don’t understand something that is authentic – the effort you have made for them was in vain. At track six we arrive at ‘Hate filters’, the guitars and drums roll in as if on the crest of a wave, then the first vocal “do you feel over unsatisfied “, upon hearing the intonation of the voice you feel the opposite of unsatisfied. Never before have I heard a voice sound so damn sexy. The final striking chords on ‘Hate filter’ may leave you feeling nervous but will also blow your mind in the best way. Track seven moves us reluctantly ever nearer to the end, ‘You can’t lose what you don’t have’, lyrically it seems to speak of love lost and found, emotional awakening, finding something unexpected and wonderful. At track eight, we arrive at ‘Conception territory’, notes slide into each other at times and at others bounce of each other. A samba style beat interlude, then the rousing vocal “don’t leave me here, say that you love me”. There is something for everyone in this track. The penultimate track, ‘No 273’, comes from a dark place, it seems to discuss the tragedy of war, placing terrorism and war as one in the same thing, governmental focus on numbers rather than human life. Though poetic meaning sometimes is transmuted by the listener, this is what the song means to me. The final track, ‘I have reached my limit’ and if I had to choose, just pick one track, this would be it. Quite possibly one of the best songs ever written. I find it impossible to describe (which is unlike me because words are usually my friend). I will just say that, to me, this song is so amazing that it transcends definition. Ten tracks are all too few really but each of the ten is pure quality.
Additionally, the B sides on ‘Don’t change what you can’t understand’ and ‘Mums bad punk music’ singles were more than fantastic enough to reach the final album selection, particularly ‘Crush-ed’. Strangely the track ‘Pain Agency’ was not included on the album that shares its name. A mystery that only Sucioperro can solve.
To utilise a quote from ‘The dissident code’, I listen to 'Pain Agency' and it “makes me feel so good, it makes me feel so positive”. Corny though that may sound, it’s fact. 'Sucioperro' as a band, and 'Pain Agency' as an album would probably be inserted into the rock category, yet it transcends category and label – classical at times, funky at others, you may even say that pop makes an appearance. This concludes my thoughts and feelings for now, other than to say this – buy the album, buy the first album, buy the singles and if you need further convincing check 'Sucioperro' out first on You Tube or at www.myspace.com/sucioperro.
If 'Sucioperro' be the food of love, play on.
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Sunday, 17 May 2009
I loved the first Marmaduke duke album - The Magnificent Duke, after listening to it many times. I loved Duke Pandemonium after hearing it once. Like your first love and the best one-night stand you’ve ever had, you think of them often – they never truly leave you. Magnificent duke I liken to my first love, after a period effort you realise you’re head over heels and Duke Pandemonium I liken to my best one-night stand, after only moments you’re as high as a kite. Though in terms of listening both will be with me for ever. I would say it’s pure genius but it’s probably more appropriate to say impure genius (if you wonder why, go and buy both albums and you’ll find out!). xx
Moving away from Bridget Jones’ moments – I focus on music again for a while. My musical taste, as I’ve said before, is eclectic but it doesn’t stretch to Boyzone / Westlife, Boyz to Men or other pop earache of similar type. I appreciate though, that others love to singalong a Ronan Keating and that’s fair enough. I was quite pleased to hear Beyonce’s Crazy in love – I was on my own in this, no one else got up to dance so I bravely stayed in my chair and toe-tapped. I don’t recall hearing any other music that caused me to feel inexplicably drawn the dance floor. Although I did dance, it was somewhat against my will, forced and dragged as I was, to and around the dance floor, by various family members. Apparently even a toilet break was out of the question.
The venue for the wedding breakfast and evening fun was Crewe Hall – a beautiful stately building. It somehow feels remote even though it is relatively close to civilisation. It’s a perfect location to get married. Resplendent and grand, it boasts an impressively long, tree-lined driveway. I’m unsure on this but I think the building dates back to the 1600’s (corrections welcomed when I’m wrong). On a more negative note, it offers drinks that you need to put a deposit on before you can take them away and drink them. In other words, a tenner doesn’t provide you with much change for two drinks. Family members were prepared - like cubs and scouts from a demon dimension, they smuggled in supplies. These supplies consisted of vodka and whisky. Soft drinks purchased, spirits added to the glass away from prying eyes. Genius. I was trying to drink less so didn’t follow suit, not an effective plan as it turned out. In that, I still drank more than I meant to and definitely spent more than I should have done.
Onto an interesting phenomenon - the hi-five. Now, I’m not known for my hi-five action, however between the hours of drunk-oclock and drunker-oclock I was drawn into quite a few hi-five moments. The required process for a hi-five consists of: the instigator saying hi-five in the form of a question, raising their hand as you might do if you were to wave at someone, then the recipient (me, in this case) raising their hand to meet the instigators hand and create a clapping motion. All protagonists feel wonderfully pleased with themselves before, during and after. It’s a congratulatory gesture which celebrates successfully securing male attention, drinking lots of alcohol, still standing after midnight following lots of alcohol and basically anything else that the instigator deems to be a job well done. It’s an unusual practice, when you stop to think about it and in fact, I would argue that it’s an unusual practice when you don’t stop to think about it but I involved myself in it anyway. Those that know me well will agree that I’m also not known for my hand-eye coordination, so this coupled with a moderate amount of alcohol turned one hi-five into more of a low-four. Luckily the wedding guest on the other end of my low-four didn’t seem to mind, undeterred we had an action replay, which was infinitely more successful. The low-four and subsequent hi-five was closely followed by that marvellous wedding tradition of standing in a circle, arms wrapped around your neighbour, kicking your legs in time / not in time (delete as appropriate) to Sinatra’s New York, New York. Post-alcohol, I’m always happy to get involved in any kind of random dancing, even if it’s the conga, yet I often find a part of myself, the less drunk part, standing to one side and wondering at the craziness of it all. If alien’s landed – no doubt they’d find many earth customs strange but surely this type of collective drunken dancing would chart near number one in its complete nonsensical pointlessness. Apologies to anyone that doesn’t wonder in this way, it’s the sociologist in me (if you study sociology, to say sociologist in me, is practically a contradiction in terms but anyway). I suppose as a sociologist I might also consider that this type of drunken collective dancing relates to our need for human contact, a desire not to stand alone but to be part of something, a demonstration of unity, a collective of people tied by friendship or familial bonds portraying these bonds to all who stand outside the collective – or you may say that it’s a bunch of piss heads demonstrating that they are in fact very pissed. Anyway, as you may have guessed, if you’ve ever been to a wedding, New York, New York symbolises the end of the evening. So following drunken goodbyes, smiles, kisses and thank yous – I went home with my parents.
I have another wedding to attend in a few weeks. The amount of weddings you attend in a year directly correlates with your age. By the end of May I will have been to two and the so called wedding season has only just begun. Erm, oh dear….
Saturday, 9 May 2009
I stayed in one of Manchester’s top hotels – it previously sat somewhere near number one on Manchester Evening News’ exclusiveness list. Sadly though, they changed the décor, ambience, staff, added some dirt, broken furniture and re-graded themselves from 5 star to 2 star for my stay. Actually Im being unfair – the hotel was okay (or as we say in Staffordshire – it was oreet). It was very near the Manchester Roadhouse (the venue) and near to the station. Ideal really (from a particular viewpoint). After the gig, Mark and I visited the hotel bar briefly – luckily we were sensible or possibly already too drunk to spend too much money there. Mark went home, I fell into a fitful and dream-filled sleep (after landing in my room, fortunately I was still sober enough not to collapse in the bar).
The next day I awoke, spent some time trying to remove my hangover and create the impression that I was a human being rather than zombie. I checked out and headed into a vaguely sunny Manchester. Decided to make some ethical purchases and was embarrassed to find that my trusty debit card, always so reliable in the past, refused to pay. Red-faced and flustered, I left and attempted to secure money from the cash-machine which was a contradiction on this day because cash was not delivered into my hopeful hand, instead I was met with a server error. A latter phone call with my bank informed me that I was hideously overdrawn (my adjective, not theirs). The luck of the Irish was definitely not with me because I then discovered to my absolute delight (insert sarcasm here) that I didn’t have enough cash to get home! Inefficient planning coupled with an unhealthy desire for spending meant that I spent hours in Manchester waiting for my friend Jase to finish work so that he could take me home. Though I suppose, putting a positive slant on the proceedings you could argue that I was lucky that Jase worked in Manchester because I have no idea how I would have got home otherwise. I left the hotel at 11 am and Jase finished work at 5.20. It was a long and cold day (you can only spend so long sitting in a pub with very little money and only a free paper to keep you company) so I also spent an hour perched on a plastic bench under a bus shelter. For some reason passing drivers found my sitting at a bus shelter very interesting. As if they had never seen a shivering blonde female before. Lots of staring and the occasional peep later I was rescued by Jase. I arrived home to rush around like a women on edge in preparation for a hen party. I went from some of the best music I’ve ever heard to music that I hope I’ll never hear again in the space of a day. It’s an interesting life.
The next time I go to a gig, I will take more cash and check my bank balance before leaving the house. I will also attempt to interject the vodka and wine with some soft drinks. It’s a plan, probably unachievable but definitely a plan. I will now retire to my bed for some much needed sleep (it’s ten to 1am in Staffordshire you know!).
~ Give me lines on glass The dawn tides And walking past Bring me feathery flashes The midnight moments And backward glances ...
Sapiosexual, according to the Collins Dictionary online is “one who finds intelligence the most sexually attractive feature" and the &...
My teenage self: romantic fantasies of glittering knights come to sweep me off my feet. Love, romance, castle, children and happily ever aft...
Dancing: it's probably the most fun you can have on your own. Come, come now. Let's keep it clean. Much like Nicole Kidman in that ...
Why don't people necessarily recognise when they are in an abusive relationship? Why don't they all leave immediately? The answer...
Positive aspects: Correct 'you're'. Correct 'we're'. Negative aspects: The message is from two men. ...
Given my, frankly appalling ability to play the so called dating game, I'm never sure how much or how little to communicate with potent...
Long ago, someone told me about the stages of romantic love. He did so in relation to our romantic relationship and to that of his ex. ...