Log in

No account? Create an account
blindscouse [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

This life [Jan. 2nd, 2007|10:38 pm]
[mood |bouncybouncy]

Yay. 10 years on and plenty of indie retroness. Sleeper! Supergrass! Manic Street Preachers! Thank you BBC2.

It was a bit silly, but hey. I really hope they bring the dvds of the initial series out. I went to HMV last Christmas and they weren't out....

I've just checked Amazon and they are. Hurrah!

(Back to essay misery)
link4 comments|post comment

Pete Doherty! [Dec. 19th, 2006|12:42 am]

linkpost comment

Moments of insanity [Dec. 9th, 2006|10:54 pm]
It's taken me until now to start feeling a bit more normal after my rather hellish hangover. On a scale of 1 - 10, I would say it was about a 6.5. I just felt generally zombified all day. Have done absolutely nowt except shuffle off to the shops to buy the paper and some milk. I also saw a pair of shoes in the street. Crazy.

My dad says he doesn't do hangovers anymore because he can't hack them. I'm sure they get worse as you get older. I was stupidly at two parties last night; at Jo's I was dressed as a City of Liverpool purple wheelie bin. This is because it was a 90s party and because I think fancy dress parties are rubbish. At Helen's I admired the way that laminate flooring allows one to slide across to the drinks with ease and then realised that I was the most pissed up person there and that I should probably shut up. And perhaps leave. So I stupidly went back to party number 1 and danced to Catatonia, Oasis and Space. It cost me a fecking fortune in taxi fares but you forget that when you're as drunk as I was. You just think: Party! Dance! I'm now very annoyed with myself as I am skinted.

But the night was a lot of fun. Kate was there, as well as Matt and Sam from days back at halls and I suddenly felt all happy and sad and nostalgic at once. We're all old now and some of us are proper. With jobs and steady partners and stuff. I am none of these things. But I'm enjoying my last year of being a student while it lasts. Which frankly, isn't very long.

I'm still telling the story about the white, vaguely elderly, well spoken lady at the Bridgnorth poetry evening on Tuesday, who after regaling us with some fairly normal bog-standard poetry and carols for Christmas decided to "perform" Benjamin Zephaniah's Talking Turkeys. "I've been practising the accent" (she said in a cut glass RP) "and I think I've almost got it right". I was grateful that it was funny anyway, because it half-hid my embarrassed and incredulous muffled howls. What was she thinking? I don't think that there are any black people in Bridgnorth, Shropshire - there's also a pub named "The Black Boy Inn" featuring a life-sized model of a black kid - and in a way, it's just as well.
linkpost comment

Scheiss Holz... [Dec. 3rd, 2006|10:14 pm]
I ate some prunes again this week. Why?
I am a fool for skiving so much Italian. The testing is imminent and I don't have a clue past gli amici...
I saw cows being burnt in a big pile twice on Thursday. This was the video the teacher picked out for our German listening exam.
My dad got stealth bungled by a burglar who followed him into his house when he dashed in to go to the loo without locking the front door behind him. Two hours later someone turned up at the front door with his rucksack, saying they'd found it in the street. Lock your doors people. And keep valuables hidden. The scallies will try anything this time of year.
The Ashdale pub is dead on a Friday. The only people under 60 in there are a bit mental as well...
I now want to be a journalist. I've come five years down the line and gone full cycle. I'll change my mind next week no doubt.
linkpost comment

Week out, :weekend in [Nov. 26th, 2006|03:55 am]
This week has mostly been characterised by a lot of panicking about my German Literature essay which I finally handed in ten minutes before the deadline on Friday. There were some good points poorly executed. So I went to the Cambridge to take my mind off things at 4pm and got home at about 2am.

Other highlights of the week were the Odysseus Unwound opera at the Unity Theatre, (featuring gingerbread men, dressing gowns, toy sheep, lots of wool and mute old women from Scotland), seeing Mitchell and Webb live at the Royal Court (featuring an hour standing outside in the cold, some good and some not so good sketches and some brilliant little bits of improvisation) and going for dinner beforehand at Pizza Express, getting paid £40 to sit on my arse for 2 hours and listen to music as part of some market research survey thing for local radio and prawn toast tonight. Lovely stuff.

Lowlights include being a little bit 'meh' at the beginning of the week, my bike light, which definitely is a low light, as it doesn't really seem to be working, missing English class on Friday because of aforementioned essay problems, missing two lots of Italian class and not being able to get to sleep now. Which is annoying.
linkpost comment

Immer wieder und immer wieder [Nov. 24th, 2006|03:18 am]
Despite my best intentions and promises to myself to the contrary, I find myself still writing essays (in the middle of) the night before they are due in, propped up on diet coke and a sense of fear and panic. After 4 years at university, I have learnt next to nothing about being a proper person.

I'm a Bubikopf!
linkpost comment

Hurricane [Nov. 12th, 2006|02:00 am]
(It was a night like this; almost exactly like this. Tonight I am watching the blinds flap noisily, and hearing the high pitched humming that then would have been associated with a mosquito, in the stillness before the storm, but tonight I know it is the sound of the wind blowing down the alley. Then we were in a field, in the middle of nowhere, in June.

I had come out of the hot over-crammed marquee and wandered for a few seconds around the periphery, watching the sky darken and the wind rise. Suddenly you were there and the rain began and we scanned the area looking for shelter. The thin space shaded by every canopy had been taken; there were people huddled under every stall and in every available dry space as the wind got up and scraps of rubbish from the ground and general festival detritus began to swirl manically around our heads.

So we ran. Over divets, strange lumps in the ground, taking shortcuts past smelly toilet blocks and seeing several people racing past in disposable pink plastic T-mobile macs they'd found on some stall. The rain was now coming down in fast icy blobs and it was almost completely dark. We stumbled over tent ropes and hastily discarded barbecue patches looking for our spot. Panicked shouts were all around us. People were abandoning their tents and making a run for it, a break for the train station over 2 kilometres away. We had no idea if we would find our place. Then we saw a wildly straining, swaying flagpole, the one with the flashing lights that we recognised as our landmark, and dived inside the tent.

It was like being in a water bed. The formerly dry crumbly earth which would not hold our tent pegs was now waterlogged and unable to absorb the moisture quickly enough. We sat together poised, pensive on a thermal mat and a bin bag and collected all our belongings in the centre. We, at least were safe and relatively dry. We had no idea where the others were.)

I should close my window but I need a bit of air. It's November.
linkpost comment

On memory [Nov. 10th, 2006|10:56 am]
The Germans have at least two different types of word for memory. One of these is "Gedaechtnis" which is factual memory, things which really happened, things that can be written into a documentary. The other is "Erinnerung", which is the way we remember things individually and subjectively.

Recently I've been worried as my memory, whether the Gedaechtnis or the Erinnerung kind, previously quite sharp, seems to be failing me. I had a conversation recently with a girl from Reading and was trying to remember the name of the gay club I'd been to when I was there once. It was only when she came up with the name that sounded right that I knew it was the "Granby". I would never have been able to come up with the name myself, although I could visualise the interior of the club perfectly. I then went on to tell her about a club in Liverpool called the "Granby" and about how naff and cheesy it was, how it was "grab a granny" in there and it was £10 to get in, then all you could drink on selected nights. Except it isn't called the "Granby" at all is it? (I thought to myself later). It's called the "Grafton". I even don't know if it's still open.

In the spirit of my mum spending loads of time on the internet, she now informs me she's going to do NaNoWriMo. I am going to be her typist. And be paid for it! It's more fun than pushing a mop around our cracked vinyl flooring but I'll have to do that as well once I'm better. I'm in bed with cold/flu. I haven't managed to get much work done at all this week but I have managed to read 'Billy Liar' (Keith Waterhouse) which is excellent. I sketchily remember going to see a play of Billy Liar at the Empire/Playhouse (no, I think it was the Empire) and being bored almost to tears at the age of about 10. I was worried that I'd have the same response to the book, but no, it is good; immediately accessible as well. I didn't have to try to "find my way" into the text.

I'm now going to do some diary stylee This Is What I Did Last Week Stuff. Mainly as a guide to my addled brain and failing memoryCollapse )
link2 comments|post comment

"She's dying...and nobody came to see" [Nov. 8th, 2006|11:02 am]
I am in bed feeling rather ill. forthwritten has offered to take in my Italian homework for me so I might stay here and listen to radio 4 all day. That's what gli amici are for. Or le amiche if it's just girls. In other news, I am turning into Kate Winslet (in an "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" sense not a Titanic sense) or perhaps Henry Higgins and madjackal2k is turning into me.
linkpost comment

General stuff [Oct. 31st, 2006|06:07 pm]
So Germany was great, even if the 2 hour delay at Manchester Airport (five hours of my life, people! I want my time back)and the complimentary sandwich weren't. "Yuh carn'av beer. No beer allowed" said the rather simple catering lady, without then offering further information. I met a rather posh couple from Leeds, the Adel side, don't you know, who were travelling to a castle near Hameln for a wedding and a mother and her daughter travelling to see son/brother in the army in Germany. I correctly placed 'mother' in Shropshire, Telford, when I played my "Are you from..., by any chance?" game as I am occasionally wont to do. I also said "But I originally had hints of Wolverhampton" to which she replied, "Well, I grew up there, but I've lived in Telford for the past 19 years." Go me! If only I had a useful skill...

I waved to piepmatz at Hanover train station and caught up with a very sleepy Anna at 1am...stupid stupid delayed train, had breakfast with her, Hanna and Pawel on the Saturday and then met up with Tobi. Frigging Nazis were in Goettingen again - Why? Why whenever I go? So there were 6000 police milling around,roads blocked and I think shops were shut, but in any case, I never found the time to go into town. Met Kermit's mum who gave me 10 packets cigarettes and some Schinkenspeck (which looks like a hunk of dried up raw meat - ugh!) which I duly gave to Kermit today in the pub. I saw Joe Pfaendner's new play in the ThOP and a lot of the usual suspects were there: Carola, Reinhardt - who thinks I come back to Germany so often because I have a lover, "who is perhaps Tobi" - idiot!, Angelika, Christoph Pfaendner, Matto (who directed the play, Marco, Peter, Ollie and a few more of Tobi's mates. Then I met up with Sarah in the P-Cafe for brunch on Sunday and we ate ourselves silly for only €9 each, including coffee, orange juice, bread rolls, croissants, fruit salad, quark, caemembert, smoked salmon...Lecker! Then Tobi's play in the afternoon which was just brilliant. (I have to write an "art" review for my creative writing class, so I'll probably post the play review here at some stage.) I also briefly saw Kerstin, who has a little baby nephew. And Emily (the guinea pig) is now fully grown and is making a career out of hassling Andro, who looked a bit dishevelled and OAP-like.

This was all lovely but I'm now a little behind with work. Next week, I'm going for a blood test which will tell me whether I have an underactive thyroid or not. On the one hand, obviously I don't want to be diagnosed with this condition, which my mum has to take daily medication for, because it is pretty unpleasant and you put weight on and can't lose it and get tired all the time and stuff. This is why I've been putting off taking the test. On the other hand, I've been feeling increasingly slow, absent minded, "out of it" and forgetful of late and I'm starting to think about it a lot (in a bit of a hypochondriac sense, perhaps) and it's bothering me - so I do want to know if there is something wrong, or if I'm just being repeatedly slapped with the dozy stick, or if it's the weather, or the fact that I've stopped jogging or something. Ah well. We shall see.

I bumped into Andrew Plowman at the railings outside Law Building this evening, after going bra shopping with forthwritten and madjackal2k (Well, they shopped and I window shopped but the good news is that The Turbo Black Sports Bra thing is back) and we had a conversation about cycling in Liverpool and lamented the amount of broken glass on the back streets. He gets kudos for going down Smithdown Road. I told him I wasn't quite advanced enough for that yet, but he seemed rather pleased with "At least you've got lights, which is better than most people round here." He then warned me to "be careful" when I revealed my lack of cycle helmet. Bless!
linkpost comment

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]