Just because I'm doing some boring data entry task, I've put Radio One on my personal stereo. (Remember those? Old school me!) It's helping the day go faster as I sat here dancing as I type.
But I swear it's channelling my brain.
First - Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis. This song I like to play loud and hope to spend this term dancing to at the Cube.
Second - Don't Cha by The Pussycat Dolls. I know I'm supposed to hate them on principal. But this is the song I spent last term dancing to in the Cube. And it has very happy memories attached to it.
What would make it perfect if it were Razorlight or the Killers next.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Radio One
Just because I'm doing some boring data entry task, I've put Radio One on my personal stereo. (Remember those? Old school me!) It's helping the day go faster as I sat here dancing as I type.
But I swear it's channelling my brain.
First - Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis. This song I like to play loud and hope to spend this term dancing to at the Cube.
Second - Don't Cha by The Pussycat Dolls. I know I'm supposed to hate them on principal. But this is the song I spent last term dancing to in the Cube. And it has very happy memories attached to it.
What would make it perfect if it were Razorlight or the Killers next.
But I swear it's channelling my brain.
First - Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis. This song I like to play loud and hope to spend this term dancing to at the Cube.
Second - Don't Cha by The Pussycat Dolls. I know I'm supposed to hate them on principal. But this is the song I spent last term dancing to in the Cube. And it has very happy memories attached to it.
What would make it perfect if it were Razorlight or the Killers next.
Home smells
Yesterday I was sick. Today I am much better and back at work, but yesterday I was sick. It was my reoccuring stomach ache thing, that I've had pretty much since I came home from Uni.
I had jumped up at 545, taken my medication and practically fell down the ladder of my cabin, high sleeper bed. These things were not designed for ill people, however practical their space creating height maybe. A huge wave of nausea hit me, and I raced to the bathroom, rudely shoving family aside, and then stumbling almost blindly to bed. (Sorry family!) I am unusal in that I vomit only very very rarely, and so have to sit with such stomach pains for a while. Whilst vomiting is never plesant, in way I wish I would just be sick in these situations as then I'd get rid of whatever was troubling me.
However, sickness is not what I wanted to be the thrust of today's post. Lying in bed all day wrapped in my duvet, I was struck by the fact that home smells. I am not being rude about my mothers cleaning abilities, or implying that the various other members of my family have body odour isssue. There is this all pervading smell in the house, and it seems to get stronger upstairs. I really can't distinguish its component parts. There is something metallic, something cool, something like washing powder, but nothing I can explicitly explain. A whiff of it makes me feel sleepy and comforted, and makes me think of my cheek against the cool side of the pillow, and of dreamless sleep and early mornings reading in sunrise light.
I enjoyed my day in bed playing with the laptop and broken wireless. I slept for a few hours at a time and pestered a person in the interim.
There are other smells that make me at home. Stewing apple is forever being four, and at home with mum and watching her chop the huge sour cooking apples from our tree. Flapjack smell is coming home from school. The mingle of wool suits and sweat and silk ties and engine oil is my dad when he'd come and see me after work. Jasmin is my granny, cigars my papa. There are Soton smells that tell me I'm at home too. Leather bound books, photocopy ink, kebab.
The smell of the nape of someone's neck.
I had jumped up at 545, taken my medication and practically fell down the ladder of my cabin, high sleeper bed. These things were not designed for ill people, however practical their space creating height maybe. A huge wave of nausea hit me, and I raced to the bathroom, rudely shoving family aside, and then stumbling almost blindly to bed. (Sorry family!) I am unusal in that I vomit only very very rarely, and so have to sit with such stomach pains for a while. Whilst vomiting is never plesant, in way I wish I would just be sick in these situations as then I'd get rid of whatever was troubling me.
However, sickness is not what I wanted to be the thrust of today's post. Lying in bed all day wrapped in my duvet, I was struck by the fact that home smells. I am not being rude about my mothers cleaning abilities, or implying that the various other members of my family have body odour isssue. There is this all pervading smell in the house, and it seems to get stronger upstairs. I really can't distinguish its component parts. There is something metallic, something cool, something like washing powder, but nothing I can explicitly explain. A whiff of it makes me feel sleepy and comforted, and makes me think of my cheek against the cool side of the pillow, and of dreamless sleep and early mornings reading in sunrise light.
I enjoyed my day in bed playing with the laptop and broken wireless. I slept for a few hours at a time and pestered a person in the interim.
There are other smells that make me at home. Stewing apple is forever being four, and at home with mum and watching her chop the huge sour cooking apples from our tree. Flapjack smell is coming home from school. The mingle of wool suits and sweat and silk ties and engine oil is my dad when he'd come and see me after work. Jasmin is my granny, cigars my papa. There are Soton smells that tell me I'm at home too. Leather bound books, photocopy ink, kebab.
The smell of the nape of someone's neck.
Home smells
Yesterday I was sick. Today I am much better and back at work, but yesterday I was sick. It was my reoccuring stomach ache thing, that I've had pretty much since I came home from Uni.
I had jumped up at 545, taken my medication and practically fell down the ladder of my cabin, high sleeper bed. These things were not designed for ill people, however practical their space creating height maybe. A huge wave of nausea hit me, and I raced to the bathroom, rudely shoving family aside, and then stumbling almost blindly to bed. (Sorry family!) I am unusal in that I vomit only very very rarely, and so have to sit with such stomach pains for a while. Whilst vomiting is never plesant, in way I wish I would just be sick in these situations as then I'd get rid of whatever was troubling me.
However, sickness is not what I wanted to be the thrust of today's post. Lying in bed all day wrapped in my duvet, I was struck by the fact that home smells. I am not being rude about my mothers cleaning abilities, or implying that the various other members of my family have body odour isssue. There is this all pervading smell in the house, and it seems to get stronger upstairs. I really can't distinguish its component parts. There is something metallic, something cool, something like washing powder, but nothing I can explicitly explain. A whiff of it makes me feel sleepy and comforted, and makes me think of my cheek against the cool side of the pillow, and of dreamless sleep and early mornings reading in sunrise light.
I enjoyed my day in bed playing with the laptop and broken wireless. I slept for a few hours at a time and pestered a person in the interim.
There are other smells that make me at home. Stewing apple is forever being four, and at home with mum and watching her chop the huge sour cooking apples from our tree. Flapjack smell is coming home from school. The mingle of wool suits and sweat and silk ties and engine oil is my dad when he'd come and see me after work. Jasmin is my granny, cigars my papa. There are Soton smells that tell me I'm at home too. Leather bound books, photocopy ink, kebab.
The smell of the nape of someone's neck.
I had jumped up at 545, taken my medication and practically fell down the ladder of my cabin, high sleeper bed. These things were not designed for ill people, however practical their space creating height maybe. A huge wave of nausea hit me, and I raced to the bathroom, rudely shoving family aside, and then stumbling almost blindly to bed. (Sorry family!) I am unusal in that I vomit only very very rarely, and so have to sit with such stomach pains for a while. Whilst vomiting is never plesant, in way I wish I would just be sick in these situations as then I'd get rid of whatever was troubling me.
However, sickness is not what I wanted to be the thrust of today's post. Lying in bed all day wrapped in my duvet, I was struck by the fact that home smells. I am not being rude about my mothers cleaning abilities, or implying that the various other members of my family have body odour isssue. There is this all pervading smell in the house, and it seems to get stronger upstairs. I really can't distinguish its component parts. There is something metallic, something cool, something like washing powder, but nothing I can explicitly explain. A whiff of it makes me feel sleepy and comforted, and makes me think of my cheek against the cool side of the pillow, and of dreamless sleep and early mornings reading in sunrise light.
I enjoyed my day in bed playing with the laptop and broken wireless. I slept for a few hours at a time and pestered a person in the interim.
There are other smells that make me at home. Stewing apple is forever being four, and at home with mum and watching her chop the huge sour cooking apples from our tree. Flapjack smell is coming home from school. The mingle of wool suits and sweat and silk ties and engine oil is my dad when he'd come and see me after work. Jasmin is my granny, cigars my papa. There are Soton smells that tell me I'm at home too. Leather bound books, photocopy ink, kebab.
The smell of the nape of someone's neck.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Phood and phings...
Yarh!
The sunday following my previous proper post, Chris and I went to eat at my favourite eat - ey place in Southampton. THE MEDITERRANEAN MEZE BAR! Which is incidently in the West Quay shopping centre, the place that is the cool beige marble shrine to consumerism in Southamption City Centre. They have this fabulous meal deal, whereby one orders three things from the menu on a plate for £5.50. This is more than enough to be a satisfying lunch for two. This time we had: Veggie Moussaka, Greek Salad and Lamb Doner meat with chilli sauce. We also ordered a small tub of olives and extra pitta. We did have to wait for our doner as they were cooking a new batch, but it's lovely high quality meat for a small fast food joint and so worth it.
I also finished Dave's rug. Here it is clashing with the highly patterned carpet on the lads's landing.
I hope he likes it. I currently have 5 inches done on my sweater dress... I dunno about another 40 to go ;-)
Phood and phings...
Yarh!
The sunday following my previous proper post, Chris and I went to eat at my favourite eat - ey place in Southampton. THE MEDITERRANEAN MEZE BAR! Which is incidently in the West Quay shopping centre, the place that is the cool beige marble shrine to consumerism in Southamption City Centre. They have this fabulous meal deal, whereby one orders three things from the menu on a plate for £5.50. This is more than enough to be a satisfying lunch for two. This time we had: Veggie Moussaka, Greek Salad and Lamb Doner meat with chilli sauce. We also ordered a small tub of olives and extra pitta. We did have to wait for our doner as they were cooking a new batch, but it's lovely high quality meat for a small fast food joint and so worth it.
I also finished Dave's rug. Here it is clashing with the highly patterned carpet on the lads's landing.
I hope he likes it. I currently have 5 inches done on my sweater dress... I dunno about another 40 to go ;-)
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Radio 4! Me on national radio!
I was on Radio 4 today. Talking about uni. Go to http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/youandyours/coming_up.shtml and use today's listen again function. Gah I was so nervous!
Radio 4! Me on national radio!
I was on Radio 4 today. Talking about uni. Go to http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/youandyours/coming_up.shtml and use today's listen again function. Gah I was so nervous!
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Quote of the weekend among other things...
"It was just ambient thrusting..."
Work has reached the stage where there is so little for me to do that they are sending me home at lunch time. Yay and Boo all at once. I'd rather be busy and feel like I'm earning my money, but the free time to read at work, or go home and sew is rather nice.
I jumped on a train to Soton after work on Friday and went to get keys cut for my house and other such things, and spent the evening eating in an Indian restaurant, the Kohinoor in Portswood, but not managing to finish my meal. This wierd stomach thing has been driving me mad. It seems the only thing I want to eat is plain salty things, with everything else making me nauseous. And before you ask no I'm not pregnant...lol!
The restaurant was far nicer on the inside than it looked from the outside, and the company was excellent. I shared meat samosas, lamb razella, poppadoms and dips, lamb jalfrezy, and vegetable bangala, rice and plain naan bread. I think our eyes were bigger than our stomachs! The samosa were samosa like, the lamb razella, shredded lamb in a tomato - y sauce served with strips of naan to eat it with. I think I liked that the best. It reminded me a bit of burrito filling, and was very tasty. The jalfrezy was very very hot, full of tomato and coriander and very succulent pieces of lamb. Finally the vegetable bangala was a mix of veg, baked in a creamy, coconut, mild curry sauce. That was a bit rich for my poor stomach! If I go again, I might be temped to skip the starters, and have two mains and a veg dish, or two mains and rice and naan. Can't do without a naan bread!
Today has been a lazy day watching Farscape at Chris' house, and borrowing his laptop to make posters for my new performance venture. 'Move' is going to be a combination of dance, physical theatre and contact improvisation, open to dancers, martial artists, actors, comics and anyone who wants to explore how the body can move. I think the sessions will normally run as a warm up, then improvisation to tracks chosen by leaders, then a free session where people can being ideas and work on them within the group and time spent on previous pieces. This is with an eye to create original performance pieces. Should be fun. I have my eye on a Lea Anderson style humourous piece on student life, drawing on pedestrian movement and lots of contact work.
I expect I will go home tomorrow evening, but there is shopping to be doing first.... :-)
Edit**
Some pictures for your delectation:-
Quote of the weekend among other things...
"It was just ambient thrusting..."
Work has reached the stage where there is so little for me to do that they are sending me home at lunch time. Yay and Boo all at once. I'd rather be busy and feel like I'm earning my money, but the free time to read at work, or go home and sew is rather nice.
I jumped on a train to Soton after work on Friday and went to get keys cut for my house and other such things, and spent the evening eating in an Indian restaurant, the Kohinoor in Portswood, but not managing to finish my meal. This wierd stomach thing has been driving me mad. It seems the only thing I want to eat is plain salty things, with everything else making me nauseous. And before you ask no I'm not pregnant...lol!
The restaurant was far nicer on the inside than it looked from the outside, and the company was excellent. I shared meat samosas, lamb razella, poppadoms and dips, lamb jalfrezy, and vegetable bangala, rice and plain naan bread. I think our eyes were bigger than our stomachs! The samosa were samosa like, the lamb razella, shredded lamb in a tomato - y sauce served with strips of naan to eat it with. I think I liked that the best. It reminded me a bit of burrito filling, and was very tasty. The jalfrezy was very very hot, full of tomato and coriander and very succulent pieces of lamb. Finally the vegetable bangala was a mix of veg, baked in a creamy, coconut, mild curry sauce. That was a bit rich for my poor stomach! If I go again, I might be temped to skip the starters, and have two mains and a veg dish, or two mains and rice and naan. Can't do without a naan bread!
Today has been a lazy day watching Farscape at Chris' house, and borrowing his laptop to make posters for my new performance venture. 'Move' is going to be a combination of dance, physical theatre and contact improvisation, open to dancers, martial artists, actors, comics and anyone who wants to explore how the body can move. I think the sessions will normally run as a warm up, then improvisation to tracks chosen by leaders, then a free session where people can being ideas and work on them within the group and time spent on previous pieces. This is with an eye to create original performance pieces. Should be fun. I have my eye on a Lea Anderson style humourous piece on student life, drawing on pedestrian movement and lots of contact work.
I expect I will go home tomorrow evening, but there is shopping to be doing first.... :-)
Edit**
Some pictures for your delectation:-
Friday, September 01, 2006
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Knitting Update
I do still knit I promise. I do other crafty things too....will the wonders never end? I am enjoying spending my evenings making goodies for people and for myself.
My lovely french pleat. I came out just right today, not too tidy, not too messy. I love my hair.
Look see I made my laptop a cushion to live in. I need to name my lovely new laptop....mmmm any ideas?
A sneak preview of a crafty quilty gifty thing.
Hats hats hats for a very special Scottish baby...
I'm also slogging along with my rug, about 4/5ths there, and my minnie mouse dress is cut out. I just need to cut out the interfacing and do the tailors tacks then I'm onto sewing.
Knitting Update
I do still knit I promise. I do other crafty things too....will the wonders never end? I am enjoying spending my evenings making goodies for people and for myself.
My lovely french pleat. I came out just right today, not too tidy, not too messy. I love my hair.
Look see I made my laptop a cushion to live in. I need to name my lovely new laptop....mmmm any ideas?
A sneak preview of a crafty quilty gifty thing.
Hats hats hats for a very special Scottish baby...
I'm also slogging along with my rug, about 4/5ths there, and my minnie mouse dress is cut out. I just need to cut out the interfacing and do the tailors tacks then I'm onto sewing.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
I kissed your mouth and back.
we might kiss
when we are alone
when nobody’s watchin’
we might take it home
I bit into my apple and the pink flesh that hides behind the rosy red skin takes me by surprise. Damien soars in my earbuds, the equaliser rising and falling in time with my irregular heart beat.
we might make out
when nobody's there
it's not that we're scared
it's just that it's delicate
Sometimes this job is the best. I have my work, the work I think might be my life's work, in front of me, taking notes from dusty books. The real work has dried up and rathe than sat here bored on the internet I thought I'd read and nibble apples.
so why d’ya fill my sorrow
with the words you've borrowed
from the only place you've known
why d’ya sing hallelujah
if it means nothin’ to ya
why d’ya sing with me at all?
But the apple took me by surprise. A moment of sublime in world of grey. The red of the skin seeps through the flesh to a snow white core. It could be blood on winter snow or strawberry juice staining baby cheeks or cold bitten lips.
like never before
when there's nothin’ to give
how can we ask for more?
Things are going to be ok. I might be trapped in this office, but I'm soaring through pages and pages of books. I have nothing to give to quote Damien, and nothing more to ask for. It's a nice place to be. This study excites me. It answers questions no one could before.
we might make love
in some sacred place
that look on your face
is delicate
In Soton over the bank holiday weekend, I am ashamed and proud to admit that I went to the library and stood in the oldest reading room and smelt the air like a drug addict. Leather topped desks, and mirrors, and shelves of crumbling books interwoven with modern plastic coated ones, and flickering lights. It's a drug this learning. I want to know. I want to know. Not just my history, but other things. Why do hands have such a range of movement? Which bones and tendons allow me to type? What are the Noachime laws? How do numbers in a computer programme become letters and shapes on my monitor? How will Farraday Cages stop wireless network connections from leaking out of buildings?
so why d’ya fill my sorrow
with the words you've borrowed
from the only place you've known
why d’ya sing hallelujah
if it means nothin’ to ya
why d’ya sing with me at all?
I can't take my eyes off of you. Hundreds of thoughts are tumbling through my brain, matching to curls around my shoulders. It's great to be happy again. It's great to know people can feel again. I can't take my eyes off you. That I can be alone again without feeling desperately painful. Did I say that I want to?
The memories of last night fill my daydreams. The crochet slips between my fingers. The words slip beneath my eyes into my head. My mind.
Oh! :-)
I kissed your mouth and back.
we might kiss
when we are alone
when nobody’s watchin’
we might take it home
I bit into my apple and the pink flesh that hides behind the rosy red skin takes me by surprise. Damien soars in my earbuds, the equaliser rising and falling in time with my irregular heart beat.
we might make out
when nobody's there
it's not that we're scared
it's just that it's delicate
Sometimes this job is the best. I have my work, the work I think might be my life's work, in front of me, taking notes from dusty books. The real work has dried up and rathe than sat here bored on the internet I thought I'd read and nibble apples.
so why d’ya fill my sorrow
with the words you've borrowed
from the only place you've known
why d’ya sing hallelujah
if it means nothin’ to ya
why d’ya sing with me at all?
But the apple took me by surprise. A moment of sublime in world of grey. The red of the skin seeps through the flesh to a snow white core. It could be blood on winter snow or strawberry juice staining baby cheeks or cold bitten lips.
like never before
when there's nothin’ to give
how can we ask for more?
Things are going to be ok. I might be trapped in this office, but I'm soaring through pages and pages of books. I have nothing to give to quote Damien, and nothing more to ask for. It's a nice place to be. This study excites me. It answers questions no one could before.
we might make love
in some sacred place
that look on your face
is delicate
In Soton over the bank holiday weekend, I am ashamed and proud to admit that I went to the library and stood in the oldest reading room and smelt the air like a drug addict. Leather topped desks, and mirrors, and shelves of crumbling books interwoven with modern plastic coated ones, and flickering lights. It's a drug this learning. I want to know. I want to know. Not just my history, but other things. Why do hands have such a range of movement? Which bones and tendons allow me to type? What are the Noachime laws? How do numbers in a computer programme become letters and shapes on my monitor? How will Farraday Cages stop wireless network connections from leaking out of buildings?
so why d’ya fill my sorrow
with the words you've borrowed
from the only place you've known
why d’ya sing hallelujah
if it means nothin’ to ya
why d’ya sing with me at all?
I can't take my eyes off of you. Hundreds of thoughts are tumbling through my brain, matching to curls around my shoulders. It's great to be happy again. It's great to know people can feel again. I can't take my eyes off you. That I can be alone again without feeling desperately painful. Did I say that I want to?
The memories of last night fill my daydreams. The crochet slips between my fingers. The words slip beneath my eyes into my head. My mind.
Oh! :-)
Monday, August 21, 2006
Decadence
I spent Saturday night in a heated paddling pool, drinking wine. It was like being in an American College movie.
Pity really that the rest of the weekend sucked. Pity that I let wishful thinking make a fool of me.
Oh well. Today is a new day, and the begginning of a new week and I refuse to be a burden on anyone any more.
Pity really that the rest of the weekend sucked. Pity that I let wishful thinking make a fool of me.
Oh well. Today is a new day, and the begginning of a new week and I refuse to be a burden on anyone any more.
Decadence
I spent Saturday night in a heated paddling pool, drinking wine. It was like being in an American College movie.
Pity really that the rest of the weekend sucked. Pity that I let wishful thinking make a fool of me.
Oh well. Today is a new day, and the begginning of a new week and I refuse to be a burden on anyone any more.
Pity really that the rest of the weekend sucked. Pity that I let wishful thinking make a fool of me.
Oh well. Today is a new day, and the begginning of a new week and I refuse to be a burden on anyone any more.
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