Sunday 31 August 2008

Six.

Triad day.

Saturday was six in the countdown, and it was a day of getting things done, sending emails, entering competitions and then going to Donna's Gaff with the skills Mills and making tuna sandwiches and a GIANT cookie for the munch and mingle.









Donna and I ate the giant cookie for breakfast while watching Bugsy Malone.

The Tuna Sandwiches were loved by all the members of the ward.

They never knew about the cookie.

What we pretty much did was get Betty Crocker cookie mix, we added some water, we mixed it, and then turfed the whole thing on a tray. MEGA.

It looks a bit like Ireland. Fact.

I technically ate Belfast for Breakfast.

But Six, was a reminder of the triad/or quartet that I used to have with Charla, Mary and Donna. I loved hanging out with those three cats.

On Charla's leaving night we went to the Art School, which was pretty mega. Oh the dancing.

I miss Charla. That was a good year.

Fact.

Saturday 30 August 2008

The Apple Sometimes Falls Too Far From The Tree.

From a young age I have been quite aware of the fact that Women can do a lot of things on their own. My Mother is Irish, she was raised on a farm, left home when she was 18 and became a Barnardo’s childcarer. I’m not too sure of the details, but somewhere in there met my Dad, married him, then squeezed out my sister, and I popped out for some chai tea 4 years later.

Six years after that I had watched my mum pretty much raise me and she was my hero. Having little or no understanding of how the world works I just assumed my mum was in charge and my dad was just out all the time at the mysterious place called work or the pub.

I have one good memory of said padre and that was when we fought over my last weeto in my chocolate flavoured turned milk. Two spoons, one weeto. I think he let me win.

Anyway.

They split when I was six, and to cut a long story short my Mum was a shining example of power. I remember standing in the close of our newish house with her and two strangers who had brought a van (friends from college I think), and I remember that my Dad had arranged a meeting so that she could get some things from the house. He wasn’t in, a common trait the Y chromosome holder is prone to exhibit, but something that wouldn’t create an obvious pattern until years later.

My Mum proceeded to boot the door in (I think the friends from college did it) and then took what she wanted and we left.

The years passed and I would watch her fix hoovers, washing machines, VCRs pretty much everything. She was the DIY genius.

I have tried many a time to be as wise and amazing at doing things as she, but to no avail. Like in Utah when I cut my phone charger’s wire from the plug, or when I tried to fix Mighty Mouse and couldn’t get the last screw undone so I just snapped the plastic and made it worse.

I pretty much have the desire to be the superhero she is, but not the ability (or patience), so in this instance the apple is close to the tree but far enough that I’ve not inherited those superpowers.

I’m talking about this because I locked myself in Maddie’s house.

The communal door has a mortice lock which I had had trouble with before, but managed to work it out.

At midnight I went to take Ren and Stimpy for a quick slash before heading home but found that the door would not open. I spent twenty minutes telling myself to be smarter than the door, to be stronger than the door, reminding myself that i have a masters degree and a lock shouldn’t be able to out smart me. I also called it a bawbag a few times.

I gave up and just resigned to the fact that I was staying. I text my mum to tell her and then she rang. About 40 minutes later she was there, taking the keys through the letter box and opening the door without so much as a stutter.

Anne strikes again.

Doors are no match for her.

She did in 0.2 seconds what I couldn’t do in 40 minutes.

I suck profusely.

So I am now home... Yayy. And the dogs got to go for one Bruce Lee and Barry White.

I can’t believe i locked myself in. I am such a spaz.

Fact.

Friday 29 August 2008

I am Always Thirsty.

The email below was sent to me by the Bishop's wife who is in charge of visiting teaching. She often sends emails asking for VT reports and also emails encouraging and reminding us to visit. This one however was a little different.

The reason I am posting it is one. because my New Name is: Funky Farkle-lips. And two because the example at the bottom tells you what George Bush's new name is. In America it will mean nothing, in Britain I almost keeled over laughing. PAH HA.

I remember getting this years ago when I used to use LDS Chatrooms and spend my days as an MIRCop. (and yes I attended chatroom meetings... hmmm.)





> > We all need a little stress-reliever! This only takes
> a minute.
> >
> > Please don't be a bore & ruin it. Send it on
> to everyone you know
> > including the person that sent it to you.
> >
> > Sometimes when you have a stressful day or week, you
> need some
> > silliness to break up the day. If we are honest, we
> have a lot more
> > stressful days than not.
> >
> > Here is your dose of humor...
> >
> > A. Follow the instructions to find your new name.
> >
> > B. Once you have your new name, put it in the subject
> box and
> > forward it to friends and family & co-workers.
> >
> > Don't forget to forward it back to the person who
> sent it to you so
> > they know you participated.
> >
> > And don't go all adult - a senior manager is now
> known far & wide as
> > Dorky Gizzardsniffer!
> >
> > The following is excerpted from a children's book,
> Captain
> > Underpants And the Perilous Plot Professor Poopypants,
> by Dave
> > Pilkey, in which the evil Professor forces everyone to
> assume new
> > names...
> >
> > So:-
> >
> > 1. Use the third letter of your first name to
> determine your New
> > first name:
> >
> > a = snickle
> > b = doombah
> > c = goober
> > d = cheesey
> > e = crusty
> > f = greasy
> > g = dumbo
> > h = farcus
> > i = dorky
> > j = doofus
> > k = funky
> > l = boobie
> > m = sleezy
> > n = sloopy
> > o = fluffy
> > p = stinky
> > q = slimy
> > r = dorfus
> > s = snooty
> > t = tootsie
> > u = dipsy
> > v = sneezy
> > w = liver
> > x = skippy
> > y = dink y
> > z = zippy
> >
> > 2. Use the second letter of your last name to
> determine the first
> > half of your new last name:
> >
> > a = dippin
> > b = feather
> > c = batty
> > d = burger
> > e = chicken
> > f = barffy
> > g = lizard
> > h = waffle
> > i = farkle
> > j = monkey
> > k = flippin
> > l = fricken
> > m = bubble
> > n = rhino
> > o = potty
> > p = hamster
> > q = buckle
> > r = gizzard
> > s = lickin
> > t = snickle
> > u = chuckle
> > v = pickle
> > w = hubble
> > x = dingle
> > y = gorilla
> > z = girdl e
> >
> > 3. Use the third letter of your last name to determine
> the second
> > half of your new last name:
> >
> > a = butt
> > b = boob
> > c = face
> > d = nose
> > e = hump
> > f = breath
> > g = pants
> > h = shorts
> > i = lips
> > j = honker
> > k = head
> > l = tush
> > m = chunks
> > n = dunkin
> > o = brains
> > p = biscuits
> > q = toes
> > r = doodle
> > s = fanny
> > t = sniffer
> > u = sprinkles
> > v = frack
> > w = squirt
> > x = humperdinck
> > y = hiney
> > z = juice
> >
> > Thus, for example, George W. Bush's new name is:
> Fluffy Chucklefanny.
> >
> > Now when you SEND THIS ON...use your new name as the
> subject.
> >
> > And remember that children laugh an average of 146
> times a day;
> > adults laugh an average of 4 times a day. Put more
> laughter in your
> > day !



Chucklefanny.

CHUCKLE... FANNY.

It's like some strange amalgamation of the chuckle brothers, a 90s transvestite and female genitalia.

Chucklevision chuckle chuckle vision.








That scottish guy is the most english scottish guy ever. Do you like how they made him speak 10 octives lower to be 'Scottish'. That's why I sound like a man. Fact.

I flippin love and hate the Chucklebrothers. It's weird the hate and love I have for them.

I'm almost offended at how English the supposed scottish guy is. We do have actors in Scotland, it wouldn't have been that hard to find one. Hmmm.

Anyway,

this is what I used to watch, and this is a REAL scottish person. I was convinced that I knew what he could say. Unless I had the gift of tongues as a three year old, I was actually a liar.





Guitar Hero and the end of the physical music.

I was thinking about guitar hero the other day, after I watched a video of lego pieces re-inacting the screen for the game. Years ago, when computers first became available I'm sure people scoffed and scorned at technology taking away the essence of writing by using pen paper, chalk slate quill ink parchment etc etc.

So, perhaps things like guitar hero are just another step in the ladder.

But then, nothing creative comes out of guitar hero, you are just replicating songs that already exist. And here is the distinction, and I return to a previous blog about Hipsters and their movement/genre being the first wholly commercialised and advertised grouping.

The reason guitar hero technology will never replace creating real music is because it was invented for entertainment, and financial gain and not for the advancement of learning, creativity and production - which computers and the electronic keyboard (not my yamaha, although it could be too, but my mac keyboard) are.

That is all.

Just think about that.





Seven.

It was probably around this time last year that I posted a post with a similar title, but that related to the seven songs that I kept listening to on repeat. Those seven songs are wicked. Perhaps I should listen to that playlist again. Or I might keep listening to the Rolling Stones.

Anyway - today is seven

Because a week from today I will be twenty five and this is my one week countdown of the last days of being a child :)

I think once you reach 25 and beyond people start perceiving you more as a menace to society if you are not stable in a career and, if a Mormon, unmarried. Ha.

I'm quite happy not being married, I have to make that perfectly clear. I'm happy being a singular entity.

When I was 12 and 5 and 7 and 15 and 19 and 20 and 6 and 3 and pretty much able to perceive people and time I thought that people who were 25 were so old, they appeared to have a grip on reality and on their lives, they seemed to be able to do things that I couldn't (at that age) they were free, independent, and they galavanted. But they also had a certain amount of responsibility that they seemed to manage well along with their fun lives.

I always thought that by the time I was 25 I would have a grip on reality and possibly have a stable life and career. I suppose I did, but I turfed it in and opted for a life of uncertainty. If I had not gone back to do my masters degree I would be quite advanced in the design industry. If I had always known I wanted to stay in Glasgow I would have a flat in the West End, I would drink San Peligrino and eat Olives.

The fact of the matter is, I could have done these things, I could have had these things, but I decided not to do it. So now I no longer fit into the pre-determined mould that I once thought a twenty five year old is/was. So what do I do now?

Just go with it I suppose.

Anyway. Today is Seven, and on this the seventh day I woke up at 1pm, I did a spot of work for Good, I went to Asda and bought some coco pops, jaffa cakes and Coppella (the best apple juice in the world).

I then ate a bowl of coco pops while watching the end of Murder She Wrote (an interesting episode I must add). I then jumped in the car with my violin and laptop and headed for the west end, where I still am.

I am currently sat in the most amazing one bedroom apartment with 12 foot high windows and even higher ceilings. I am dog sitting for Maddy Miller, the cutest Chihuahuas ever. Skeeter and Sweetums. I swear they are Ren and Stimpy, regardless of Stimpy being a Manx Cat. Skeeter is Ren and Sweetums is a little bit more robust and is red in colour so looks like Stimpy. I kid you not.

Steeeempeee you eeeedeeeot. I was looking for that clip but I can't find it, this one will have to suffice.







I'll teach your grandmother to suck eggs.

While that video was playing one of the dogs here started growling. I swear haha. The one that is Ren here started growling. Makes sense that he didn't like the song either.

Haha.

But now we know the key to happiness is dancing by smacking your butt off of someone else's amazing.

I walked those pretty little dogs, busted out some tunes on the violin with some splendid acoustics here, and then went to Chow and got a King Prawn Chow Mein. I love Chow, I love Chinese, I love Chinese people with Glasgwegian words seeping into their Chinglish vocabulary. Mega.

I then watched mock the week while eating said food. Mega.

The most significant thing about this is that just being here for a few short hours I feel so at home. I love the west end. And Eilidh and I used to eat at Chow all the time. I miss Eilidh... Soon though, I shall see her. The most amusing thing though is that I coudn't find a fork. I came upon a spoon in the dishwasher, but there is no other cutlery to be found. I really don't know where it could be... I checked all the logical places and then all the non--logical places, like inside the microwave, fridge and freezer. Hmmm. Nevermind, the spoon worked.

And now I will work on some design things I've been too busy to do for months.

I am so thirsty.

A Rolling Stone Should Be Prime Minister.

I remember watching an episode of mock the week a few weeks ago that mentioned David Cameron would not be a change and the only way we would ever experience an actual change was if someone like Vin Diesel was the Prime Minister.

Personally I would vote for Keith Richards. Fact.

I was watching the news earlier and they were talking about John McCain being Seventy something today, 70. Here’s me worrying about being 25, he’s running for presidency at the age of seventy something. What’s that about.

I’m not trying to be funny but why hasn’t he retired yet? And why is he even being considered. When my Grandpa was in his seventies he would eat porridge in the morning, take his teeth out and put them on his dinner plate, fall asleep while eating, and he actually couldn’t talk all that well, on top of that he would re-account TV programmes from the 50s and try and find them on TV in the 90s. To be fair he did have two strokes, but still. John McCain is old. What’s with that?

So, I might try and encourage one of the rolling stones to run for Prime MInister, if Gordon Brown ever hands the country back to the people and stops his reign of un-elected terror.

I’ve been listening to the Rolling stones for most of today and for a large part of yesterday. I then hopped in the car to go get some coco pops and I just shoved the radio on to Rock Radio, which was playing the Stones. What are the odds. I swear Rock Radio is actually just my iPod on random. I love it. I hate the ads, but I love the tunes.

Yesterday was just aquatic chaos, I only did 1300m or something like that. The pool was too busy, and it was just getting stupid, so I couldn’t do backstroke and I couldn’t really crawl properly because I had to keep looking ahead of me incase I clobbered someone.

Here are the stats regardless:

200m Front Crawl
200m Breast stroke
200m Front Crawl Legs
200m Front Crawl Paddles
200m Breast Stroke Paddles
200m Front Crawl
25m Breast Stroke
25m Front Crawl Sprint
50m Swim Down

Total: 1300m Time: About 40 minutes.

And that’s about it.



I downloaded a programme today called MacJournal, and hopefully it will cut some time when I’m writing blogs and it might also help with my bad spelling haha. Anyway, I just pushed a button on the programme that said ‘Full Screen’ And it made my screen black and the text bright green... it looks like a totally old school computer, like that scene at the end of ‘Stand by me’ when the author dude is all, ‘I never had any friends later in life like I did when I was twelve.’

‘Does anyone.’

And then I go off and take my 14 year old daughter and her friend to the swimming pool. This is totally freaky, I actually do feel like that author character. Mega.

Anyway.

Violin lesson went amazingly well... and I can’t remember if i blogged about Manchester convention yet.

I don’t think I did, that pretty much went okay, actually let me check and see if I already wrote about it.

Not at all.

Okay. So last Friday Sandy Brown and I decided to Road Trip it to Manchester and pitch up hefty late for the YSA convention.

This made it my fourth year in a row and I was a bit terrified to go because I didn’t have a best friend. I know plenty of people but I just needed to know someone would be there to go to early morning breakfast or to walk to the dance or church together.

Alas, I had to do these things on my own, but once I got there I would see people that i knew so it was fine.

It’s strange that if I was going somewhere that I knew no one I would probably have been more confident, but because I knew I was probably going to have to leech on to people that I didn’t know wholly then I was a bit more intimidated and that’s why I didn’t bother sending in my form any soon.

Regardless, Sandy Brown and I boosted to Manchester and I got the last available female room. Talk about timing. The weekend was pretty amazing, and really liberating. It reminded me of all the many many amigos and amigas that I have in the country of Great Britain and Ireland.

Ben ‘The Stallion’ Gabbitas was there, and many a laugh was shared. The sneaky appearance of Dave ‘The Ginger’ Oliver was mighty exciting as well. I snuck off to the curry mile with Dave and his ginger cohorts on the Sunday night/Monday morning. Usually I count the Sabbath from when I wake up to when I go to bed, but at convention they always do it 12 - 12. So I just followed their ruling for that weekend.

General highlights was telling a black man that I have two k’s in my name because i’m a borderline racist, learning how to power slap an attacker from a Glaswegian living in England because his Dad tried to stab him, learning how to street dance (I am so hip), watching Tom ‘The Awesome’ Hooker counter-strike a bigoted testimony, getting hugs from Dave ‘The Ginger’ Oliver, telling Tom Arber that a raging gamer is hunting him down in all the Arby’s restaurants in the US, walking faster than a random guy while I was wearing high heels (I can wear heels.com), dancing to jazz music with Ben and Dan, eating breakfast with a visor on and chatting to Jackson and Danny, seeing Lucas and wanting to pulverise him for and on behalf of McBride, seeing Stacie, hanging with the amazing Richardsons, going to Robert Richardson’s CES class... that very well might be it. Oh and I met David Hooson again, I thought he had gotten married, not at all, he’d been on his mission.

This week has consisted of working on Tuesday, finishing the week’s work on Tuesday, and spending Wednesday violin-ing it up, starting Mark’s sister’s poetry book and swimming... oh and visiting teaching.

Today was all about the cocopops, murder she wrote and the Chihuahuas. But that’s another blog. Because today is Seven.

‘Anybody seen my baby...’


Tuesday 26 August 2008

With a Rock in my hand.

It's so good to be back on the non-fiction. As much as I loved my break filled with vampire romance I am truely suited to reading non-fiction books, or fiction books that are non-fiction laced with a ficticious surrounding (like 1984, the catcher in the rye, on the road, Chuck Palanhuick's life works).


(can I just say, and this is off-topic, VLC plays ANYTHING, best media player ever for that.)

There were a couple of articles I read today in the most recent issue of Adbusters that really grabbed my attention.

Two of them are actually on the adbusters website and they can be found here:



This one is about hipsters.


I think Eilidh and I used to call them scene-sters back in the day, and now they have grown into hipsters.

I was quite alarmed when I read it because a lot of the things that they list off as 'ways to identify a hipster' are things that I have done in the past, or that I am currently doing. On futher inspection and with continued reading I realised that I am not a hipster, because I couldn't care less. The things that I buy and especially the clothes I wear are more-so because I don't give a rat's tail most of the time. Yes, there is a certain look I want, it's a Vikki Miller Queen of the World look, however, I just do, I don't really think about it any more. I used to go out of my way to try and stand out, but now I don't really care.

The other thing in that article spoke about trends of music and film and how things are popular among the hipsters until too many people like it. Now, this is something I am guilty of. I think I have a low tolerance level, or at least I used to, because I am certainly better and just getting on my with life and not worrying about what other people are doing or how they are perceiving me (not that I don't care completely, just that I am better than I was). I have been known to stop liking things when they get overly popular, this is moreso because I hate manipulation, market anything in the right way and it will sell, this has been proven on many occasions. For things to get overtly popular without the correct slow and painful method, means there has been some kind of subliminal marketing which tells people to buy something because it will verify their identity. Sounds harsh? Well it's the truth.

That's why I stop liking things, because I do not want to be associated with the fad, the movement, the genre that is being promoted and the meaning that gives to my identity. I want my own identity, not one manufactured by someone else. This is why popular songs from the 90s/80s and even a couple of months ago, I will now listen to again. Because the blood-sucking marketers have moved on to use something else to exploit the generation with.

I dislike, however, that art is getting mixed up with the hipster genre. Not all art school atendees are hipsters. There are plenty of genuine artists, and to use old film cameras or polaroid is not just to be cool, it's an attempt to bring reality back to a digital world. None of this is the hipsters fault and I hate the way the article segregates them and makes them sound like imposters or heathen's. They are recycling clothing like the environmentalists tell them to do, they are being creative in dress and with art. Granted, I hate that they are my competition, but that's just because they are better than me (at art, and angsty teen blogs - I no longer than the teen, just the angst).

Moving on though.

This article is about tupperware

After reading it I really want to go to a tuperware party, call me a molly mormon but I do. I want to go and bend plastic and oooo and aaaah over how strong and airtight plastic can be. I, however, do not want to go to a taser party. Well, not unless it was a self defence party, where we were actually taught something useful other than how to carry a weapon and still look good. I bet half of the women, if not all, that own those leopard print tasers (leopard print is pretty cool) won't even be able to get them out of their bags. They will be mugged regardless because no one told them they will be shocked, they will be scared but they have to be in the mindset and use their addrenaline rush to take action (if it's safe). I'm sure some of those women might end up injured because they resort to using their laser taser faser mcgaser instead of their own common sense.

It's a shame common sense isn't sold with leopard print patterns, the world might make a little more sense if it was.

Here comes the hard slaught for me. (how good a word is slaught?) The next two articles I am going to type-a type-a type-a (like lil vicky's school of dance, but not, because I have two k's I am borderline racist).

This is from an unknown page of Adbusters number 79.

the page number is unknown because they don't have page numbers.

9/11
When foreign fighters flew into the World Trade Centre, America's confidence was shaken to the core. But instead of reinventing itself once again, America has come undone.

Today, the US is bogged down in a war that is both unpopular and unwinnable. It's economy is on the verge of collapse. Washington is paralyzed with calcified politics and unable to create sustainable energy policy, break its addiction to debt or stop antagonizing foreign foes.

But for the first time, America cannot point the finger at an identifiable enemy. For the first time, America must come to terms with the fact that this is a self-inflicted crisis. The question now is whether America can survive this latest challenge and remain one of the world's most dominant powers, or whether its confidence has finally been broken for good.



There is no author for that. My comments on this are that what I've been saying for the past few weeks is correct. Granted, I say it as a proud joke, but I do believe that the United States are going to need help, and I suspect that the empire - that is the Great British Empire - will start to reform. The United Kingdom will need help as well, but we have picked ourselves up again and again, as a nation. Granted, i've not been alive for the past times and the quality of the majority of this nations citizens has somewhat deteriorated in the past few decades. So it will be interesting to see if we can stay afloat. I think our cynicism and our dour faced nature, our grip on reality, mixed with our inability to actually complain properly will see us through.

Okay, here's the next article:

begging for more by Kono Matsu

Two years ago, in his annual state of the union address, President Bush chastised America for its raginig addiction to foreign oil. In the stern language of disapproving patriarch, Bush let it be known that he intended to address the growing problem before his tenure was up.

Now, with only a few scant months of his presidency remaining, Bush has finally unveiled his energy plan. After begging and barely getting the Saudis to pump more oil, he is attempting to strong-arm Congress into lifting the ban on offshore drilling. Bush's plan, which would cause untold environmental damage, will only yeild enough oil to support our current level of consumption for two-and-a-half years. And were the drilling to start tomorrow, it wouldn't become available in the market for at least a decade.

Some plan.

So why didn't Bush start by suggesting that Americans drive less, drive slower, or stop driving altogether? Why didn't he urge funding for alternative fuel research or push for a carbon tax?

The reason is because, in addition to being the most inept leader this country has ever known, Bush is an oil man.

We never had a chance.

Seven years of Bush policy has left America crushed by debt, stuck in Iraq and isolated from the rest of the world. Bush will undoubtedly be remembered by history as the straw that broke the empire's back.

And yet, despite it all, the man himself seems to be faring well. Displaying the unflinching gusto for which he's famous, Bush's inner fortitude is nothing short of a phenomenon.

Despite his litany of flaws, I admire Bush for his unwavering sense of self-confidence. I am in awe of whatever force - be it will or ignorance - that shields him from the onslaught of public opinion. Still, sometimes before the sun sets on his presiidency, I'd like to see someone confront him for his crimes. I'd like to seee a reporter, a citizen or a disillusioned war veteran hold him accountable for the destruction his administration has wrought. I'd like someone to make him answer for the million people who have died on his watch or the eco-crisis he has left woefully unaddressed. But most of all, in front of the blazing lights of media cameras, I'd like to see someone wipe that smirk off his goddam face.



When I was in Utah in November there wasn't a lot of politics or debate. Since then the sub-prime mortgage nonsense, the 'credit crunch', the price of petrol, the fear of running out of oil has actually occured. It's been a busy year. So while I was in the republican Bush loving state of Utah in May I heard all about the oil in Alaska, and how people didn't care about the environment or the life of animals if it meant the sustainability of the American race. I kid you not.

There were many comments I heard, from all ages and wakes of life that suggested the solution was digging for oil in the United States.

Now, Oil in the states has been known about for a long time, but the US decided a long time ago to not use their own oil, they decided to buy North Sea Oil from Maggie the spazz Thatcher when she sold us down the river in the 70s, and they decided to buy up and use the Eastern oil in Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia etc etc. Well, what the bloody hell have they done with it?

That was a lot of oil, where did it go?

It would be nice if we all had an unlimited supply and we could keep driving around until the cows come home, and live the life we think we all want. But the truth is, we just can't do it. We just can't keep living that way. We were given a pure blessing that we just stuck to. Rather than continuing technology and improving on our laurels we stayed there. We just sat back and enjoyed the wind blowing through our hair. We became lazy.

This had not happened before, think about how quickly other generations and other centuries have improved upon inventions and technology. We are no longer moving as rapidly as we once did because we no longer invent things for the sake of improving our life style, but we invent things to make money, to exploit people and to just shift all the numbers from one bank account to the other. Our forefathers discovered oil, invented cars, we've improved upon them but we just invent numbers. What do we have to show for decades of thinking? Hyperindividualism. Inventing things for the benefit of individual gain rather than the improvement of the lives of the members of our society.

When it comes to design this is the biggest question of them all. I think however, rather than the question being, how do we invent a new fuel or a new material to easily keep our current way of life? Perhaps the question should be, 'How do we change our way of life to be in accordance with the things nature has provided us with?'

We are not smarter than nature. That is man's biggest fall down and largest mistake. Thinking that we are smarter than nature and that we can live and survive without it.

We, technically, all should have that giant 'the spazz' name in between our first and surname's.

What a mess. Rather than digging oil, we should be digging our way out of this mess, out of this dependency for oil, out of this black hole we have drilled our way into.

Friday 22 August 2008

The Art of Loosing.

Okay, so in the movie, In Her Shoes, I was amused by the poem One Art by Elizabeth Bishop which Cameron Diaz reads.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.



It's quite pretty, quite nice, quite true and filled with a lot of love. The kind of love that is real and based on a deep bond of friendship rather than just feelings in a stomache or temporary love. This is unconditional and amazing.

Sad.

But it's true, we all do get used to losing things, and people. We just start accepting it, and we look and suspect that things will be lost so we always assume we will loose them so we try not to attach ourselves to them in order to not be surprised or upset when they are lost.

When I say we I mean me, it's a fact, I do it all the time. I just assume that nothing will last forever so I just wait for it to leave rather than hold on to it, or I behave towards thing like a lost dog: You know, turn your back on it and send it home. I will tell it leave me alone and go away because it will leave me eventually any way.

I only started losing things recently. Like my wooly hat, my jacket, my gloves, I left my laptop in a bar, I've left left my jumper in wagamamas, and before I have spent hours looking for car keys and what not. I hate losing things. They are inanimate objects and I control them, I am in charge of them, how can they leave me. So Then I feel bad because it's my neglect that causes them to be lost.

Thursday 21 August 2008

I am a Technological, Chai Tea Drinking, Lost Boys Loving Genius.

Today's Chai tea message is 'Live for Each Other'

That almost sounds like a Jerry Springer inspirational thought. I think I've just realised where Spinger got his thoughts: From Yoga Chai Tea.

Madness.

My eyeballs are so tired.

So, i broke CS3 the other day because I used migration assistant to pull some applications from Mac Daddy to Mac Daddy Pro. Something happened and I then spent a week trying to fix it.

I uninstalled CS2 completely, uninstalled CS3, Reinstalled it, did that again, hand deleted every indesign file and CS2 file from my computer. I had to go through the system library, the user library and the hard drive library and rip all files that dated past 2007 and that had some kind of CS connection.

I repaired the permissions on disk. Twice.

I verified the disk.

I went to the apple store and asked for help. I downloaded Onyx and cleaned the machine, uninstalled more programmes, reinstalled.

Sat and watched the crash reports. Read forum after forum, read the crash report over and over. Checked out the terminal and looked for abnormalities.

Watched indesign load and checked to see where it crashed, found out it kept crashing while loading the SING Gaiji system.

searched forum after forum for things on that.

Found an amazing site that told me to repair permissions on that file. I did, changed it to read and write by everyone. Still no luck.

I then had to delete that sucker right off the hard drive and it was solved.

I was getting to the point where I was thinking I would have to reinstall the entire operating system. I just didn't know what was happening or how to fix it. And there it was, one bloody folder that only serves a purpose if I'm using asian text. I kept the file to fouter with it another time.

Then the next day I battled with Quicktime, VLC and DivX and installed some Codecs so I could edit the lost boys AVI and have sound.

I felt like such a techno genius haha.

SO here it is, the best ending to any vampire movie ever:



So, I've decided there would be a fight at the end of Twilight, and Charlie would save the day, because he is the Policeman afterall and he knows what goes on in his town. Heck yeah.

Please appreciate the appearance of Corey Feldman. I LOVE HIM.

I think the best best part of it is that the beginning of strangers by the doors fits perfectly with the ending of the movie. do do do do. It just makes the perfect sound to accompany their expressions, and the attitude of the grandfather. I love the Doors.

Cameron Diaz's Perfect Perfect Lips.

I watched In her shoes, as mentioned in the previous blog. I watched it once before, in the cinema on my own after work one day. I had to sit on the second row and I had to run for the train afterwards. Those were the days I worked until 7:30/8:30pm.

I now have a chai tea, I am watching the Darjeeling Limited and I am going to talk about how amazing Cameron Diaz is.

Although she appears in what might seem like 'Chick Flicks' she is always in high end chick flicks. Things don't always end 'happily ever,' Her repetoire is impressive, and she is an Angel and she can dance to MC Hammer's Can't Touch This. Not unlike me:



That was last year during masters. I think Annie took three videos of my chair dancing and studio dancing. That one is to hammer time. Oh yes.





Anyway, moving on. Those Jeans now have a hole in the knee. Sad.

Cameron Diaz in the sweetest thing, amazing.

Cameron Diaz in charlie's Angels, amazing.

Cameron Diaz in What happened in Vegas, amazing.

Cameron Diaz in Shrek, amazing.

Cameron Diaz in Vanilla Sky, amazing (and a half).

Cameron Diaz in Fear and Loathing In Las vegas, amazing.

Cameron Diaz in a Life Less Ordinary, amazing and with Ewan McGregor (mon eh scots)

Cameron Diaz in My Best Friend's Wedding, amazing.

Cameron Diaz in the Holiday, Amazing.

Cameron Diaz in the Mask, amazing.

Cameron Diaz in being John Malkovich, amazing.

I swear. What a good career. There's nothing really embarassing there, she has a solid foundation and a good mix. She also know s a lot of important actors and thus lands small roles in movies.

I think the first time I ever noticed the actors' friends thing was with Will Ferrell, Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson. But the more you look at actors who star together in different movies the more you realise how small hollywood is, how important it is to 'know' people, and how fun it must actually be.

I suppose it's all made apparent by the 'six degrees of kevin bacon' theory, he has more hollywood friends and has broken more genres than anyone else.

Cameron Diaz does not bad either.

I however, link into that world via Charla.

I know Charla, and she knows Jared and Jerusha Hess, who knows Jack Black, who knows Cameron Diaz (from starring in the Holiday) and she knows Tom Cruise because of Vanilla Sky and her uncredited role in Minortiy Report (that you IMDB).

Cameron Diaz is always in movies with more meaning than romance, and I like it.

Thank you Cameron for having Hollywood morals and only being in good movies. You're a brand I can trust.

Two Thumbs Fresh.

This is now possibly the best thing on YouTube and explains my constant use of Two Thumbs Fresh.

All I do Is Count.

Quote of the day 'If Michael Phelps was made for swimming, he would have a fin, a tail and some gills. That's why a Shark is still faster.'

Followed by:

'12,000 calories a day, I know hundreds of teenagers on that diet and they're not winning olympic Gold's.'

'But their diet is not plankton.'


I went swimming this afternoon. I got in the pool sometime around 13:15/13:20. I tried to go swimming yesterday but due to 'industrial action' the pool was shut... Curse you.

I then went to Asda in my swimming suit to get cat food. I was indeed wearing my swimming suit to the pool, granted I was doused with my own 'street' clothing over the chlorine smelling lycra. The one rule, when wearing your swimsuit to the pool is: always bring underwear. I remembered yesterday. Today I forgot. This is the second time I've had to go home commando... just as well I was wearing my jeans with all the holes in them too with the hole in the butt of them. Oh yes, I am good. Air high five to myself.

So the session today was quite historic. I usually swim in blocks of 200m but I decided to swim 400m and see what happened.

Well, what happened was when I got to 10 lengths I decided I wanted to try and do 500m or 20 lengths.

While getting to that point that I remembered Justin once telling me about a girl who just got in the pool and swam (or swum if you're stephenie meyer) 1000m (40 lengths) in one go. So then I toyed with the idea of doing 40 and kept going.

When I got to 40, I remembered my wee brother saying yesterday that he couldn't swim 50 lengths in a row and I told him I couldn't either or rather didn't. So then I wondered if I could do 50, so I kept going. Then when I was approaching the 50 I was trying to remember how far a mile was and I think it's 64, so I decided to finish the mile and I kept going.

Then I worked out how many meters that was and it was 1600m so then I figured I could just finish the 2000m because it was only 16 more lengths.

And I kept going. I stopped at 80.

80 lengths with no stopping. I just kept going. I was also wearing my paddles so I was gliding nicely. 80 lengths though, 2000m. That's what I usually aim for in an entire session and I just did it. And I didn't even feel tired. I hit Euphoria 3 times and then came back down, but I kept going. The entire time all I did was count, one two breathree. Which then turned into the number of the length broken into three syllables, so it would have been seven-ty-six(breath).

Tonnes of numbers.

The unfortunancey of being female though is that although I am counting breaths, and counting lengths, and working out how many meters that is, and thinking about swimming the channel, and thinking about flippers, and thinking about swimming in the sea, I can still think of a million other things, like who i need to send emails to, what I might say in them, where I should apply for work, d-schools, b-schools, Stanford (again), what was wrong with my application to stanford, how I can make it better for next year, why italy hasn't contacted me yet, wondering if they are just waiting until I am too old (two weeks tomorrow), whether I should go to Manchester convention or not, whether I should go to Donna's wedding or not, how I'm going to fit in getting the Skill's mill's birthday present made and to her, what I'm going to give my sister for her birthday on the same day, how I could own a house with a 25m pool in the basement (jaxx)... and the list goes on.

I pretty much hate that I can't just swim and blow my brains out swimming, my mind is still other places and I can still swim and breath. I'm even having to concentrate on breathing and still, no escape from the hyper active cavern that is my brain. meh.

Okay, the Official Stats. And these make up for the last week I missed because I was watching the X-files and the weeks before that when I was just slacking.

200m Front Crawl
200m Breast Stroke
200m Front Crawl Legs only
100m Breast Stroke Legs only
100m butterfly Legs only
100m backstroke legs only
25m butterfly legs
25m backstroke legs
25m breastroke legs
25m front crawl legs

100m IM (25m Back, 25m Butterfly - one armed, 25m breast stroke, 25m front crawl)

2000m Front Crawl with Paddles
200m Front Crawl
200m Front Crawl
25m Front Crawl Legs
25m Breast Stroke Legs
50m Breast stroke
50m breast stroke with paddles
50m swim down

Total: 3700m or 148 lengths

I totally thought it was 150, the calculator never lies. Doh. Two more and it would have been 150.

I'm totally shattered now. I shouldn't really push myself like that, meh. It felt amazing at the time.

Runner's High, or what I mean when I say Euphoria.

I've not been boarding this week, gutted, I've not been to the cinema either. Although I did watch In her Shoes on Film Four on Monday or Tuesday night. Cameron Diaz is the pinnacle of perfection. Has she actually been in any bad movies?

I think I need some Chai Tea.

Cameron Diaz deserves her own blog. Fact. Hang on.

Wednesday 20 August 2008

SKATEBOARD and bruises; or, my Quarter Life Crisis

So, as part of my serious quarter life crisis, I did buy a skateboard and I did fall off it.

Here is me, playing on it for the first time. How pretty is my board. I will be Marty McFly yet. Heck yeah. Get me a guitar and teach me Chuck Berry.

Seriously though, so much fun.



My pretty sunset board with trees.



My pretty wheels.



My with my pointing left foot. Rufus told me I have to turn it when I'm gliding. I'm already correcting it.



Again with the pointing foot and the awesome purple and black stripe hoody skills.



This is my first road kill. I have no idea how I killed a fly, but I did, and it was halved on my board with blood splattered all around it.



My first injury. I fell straight on my back and winded myself and I couldn't breath. It was crazy. But funny. My wee brother just laughed at me.



My other visible injury. I also strained my neck so I wouldn't hit my head and I injured my ribs where I landed on my back haha.

Ahhh... the quarter life crisis will kill me, or make me cooler. Can I get any cooler though? That's the question.

Monday 18 August 2008

Stay Where You Are Harry Potter; or, The Twilight Saga.

I finished Breaking Dawn.

And what a saga.

Four books churned out in 3 years, around 2000 pages of writing and I read them all in a month (including the waiting time for Breaking Dawn to be released). I love vampires, I am the vampire slayer after all - well one of many - and the one thing that vampires always have are sharp teeth. Stephenie Meyer decided to throw out the sharp teeth and a long with it the entire bite of her four part saga.

It was a nice story, with an ending that was far too happy to really exist. Everything worked out too perfectly and I do appreciate a good and happy ending, but this was just sickly sweetened with happiness. Perhaps it's my inability to understand residents of the United States or perhaps my distinctly British upbringing, but I just don't believe that happiness, to that degree, has or ever will exist.

You know it's a bad sign when the main character irritates you, which she did. She was so moany and wingey all the time and all she ever did was the same thing over and over, she had the same worries over and over, she never learned a thing.

Don't get me wrong, I liked reading the books, it was good to get my mind out of Naomi Klein's Shock Doctrine, Chuck Klosterman's academicly written essays, and even Chuck Palanhuick's nialistic story telling but I don't feel like I learned anything. There was no other meaning to it, there was no lesson to be learned. They just existed in a story. Perhaps I've been too withdrawn from the real fiction world for too long, but correct me if i'm wrong, usually books and stories have a meaning other than a teenage romance that all works out?

I think the comments that compare Twilight to Harry Potter and completely non-sensical. I'm not the biggest fan of Harry Potter, but those books are impressive. There is so much story, so much content, so much growth in the characters - the characters are also continuous. Then there are the subtle uses of Latin, the research and the fact that accompanies the fiction and makes it believable. Harry Potter is an impressive work and to ask J.K. Rowling to 'move over' for some trashy perfect vampire romance is just ridiculous. I know I am bias because Rowling is Scottish, but Meyer is a mormon, so I have an alligience to both sides, I just think there are more morals and standards in Harry Potter that Twilight, and above that Harry Potter is just wittier, smarter and more believable as a story.

Here's how I would have ended the book.

Bella would get over her selfish self and stop worrying about how she looked all the time.

She would go to Dartmouth and meet Reilly and then find out he worked for the initiative, Bella would change her name to Buffy... and then it would be an amazing story.

Really though.

I would have had it end with them living a few years mortally, easing off with the intense relationship of needing to be around each other all the time, Bella being a crazy baby vampire when she finally did change. Her still wanting to eat human food and doing it – that could have been her special power, the ability to live on eggs. (she ate a lot of eggs in that book I bet she was well blocked up.) And then when Charlie sees her again he goes, 'Oh, not you too, another damn vampire.' Then it would turn out that Renee's mother was a vampire or something like that.

I tell you, it makes sense, it would have made for some better reading too.

The Lost Boys Ending is still by far the best vampire story ending in the history of the world. I will stand by that forever. In fact. Let's upload and watch it now.

HERE how gutted am I that my Rolling stones video was removed from Youtube. Devistated. It was my 11th video. Now my 11th video is the Mormon Rap.

Yeah, so that whole video conversion thing is taking too long. I might post it later. I'm going to go make pasta.

I tell you though... if you ever get bored, search Youtube for Mock the Week and Watch the season six episodes because they are hillarious and more relevant to now than the older series'. Amazing.

Saturday 16 August 2008

The Thursday Stats; or, David Duchovny's Lips.

The Thursday stats are:

0m in 24 hours.

What a personal best.

Screw swimming, I went to see the X-files.

It was HHHamazing. So amazing there are H's in front of the a to describe the breathe i took in to say the word amazing.

So 90s. It was a little weak on the super natural front. I'm impressed that Scottish people are gifted though, there's hope for me yet. Thank you Billy Connolly.

I'm not sure how I felt about scully waving at me in a bikini while mulder rowed a boat. Although, that amount of cheese did make me happy.

I think what's so amazing is that the cinema was still reasonably filled with people after three weeks of it being out. The X-files was an institution. All these 90s angsty teens were putting posters on their wall declaring how they wanted to believe or that they did believe. People were scouring the skies for UFOs. It ran for years and years and people loved it.

My sister was massively into it, that's how I was subjected to so many episodes in my younger years, but the skeptic in my never did truely believe. Still I can't tell you if I believe in aliens or not. I believe in something.

The greatest disappointment, however, is that they messed with the theme tune. They could have just left it the way it was, it would have hit the nostalgic nerve a bit better.

Anyway, I'm shattered. I thought I could stay up and blog the week, I blatently can't.

Morgan Freeman's Lips; or, My Two Choice Theory.

I watched the shawshank redemption on Tuesday night. It was tremendous.

I love it as much as I love escape from alcatraz, although the latter has clint eastwood and the former Morgan Freeman, so it's hard to say if one is better than the other.

The quote that got me, which summed up my theory of life in general was the famous:

Get busy living or get busy dying.

Back in November/October I learned something really important. I learned how to flex and use my brain. I realised that if I put food in my mouth and say MMMM This is good, I will believe it, but if I say eeeeew this is gross I will beleive it is gross.

The same applies to situations. When I was finding new friends and trying to work out life in Salt Lake City I realised that I have a choice. In every circumstance, I can choose to make it awkward or I can choose to not.

That's my insight.

You either Do or you Don't.

Now, Paul Hichens will fight with me over this until the cows come home about the whole spectrum of decisions – which is correct. However; There is a black and white choice and the grey choices come after.

His fight was that he can choose to fix a computer, he can choose to fix it half-hearted-ly he can choose to fix it well, he can choose to not fix it.

I agree yes, there are degrees.

But back to my awkward scenario.

If I walk into an unfamiliar crowd I have a choice I either sit there awkwardly or I try and speak confidently. Once I make the choice to go one way or the other, let's say I choose to not be awkward, then I will do everything, given the circumstances to achieve that. Now, the amount of effort I would put in to doing that is entirely dependent on the subsequent choices that come as a result and consequences of making the primary choice.

This is getting analytical.

Things I have learned in my life so far:

1. There are always two choices. Do or Don't do. Behave one way or another. Take control or don't take control. That's life. Always two paths/routes/choices. FACT.

Tuesday 12 August 2008

Video Blog of the Day.

These videos somehow fit into blogs that i've written today, or I just liked them.



MEGA. More Keanu.




The reason I never achieved any childhood dreams in my childhood. Listen to those punching sound effects. Look at those Turkeys. AMAZING.



Drowning Pool - as mentioned earlier. This reminds me of dancing in the cat house with Ross McGarvey and the summer I spent in the QMU with Eilidh.



I happened to watch the daily show tonight on More Four. Which seems to be 5 days behind the first airing in the US.

MEGA Though. This was one of my favourite parts.

I also watched Mock the Week on Saturday night which had me laughing for a long long time.

I need to stop watching TV. I hardly ever watch TV. This is like some kind of TV relapse or something. Stupid TV.

Curses.

Childhood Dreams; or, When I Used To Want To Be A Hollywood, time travelling Ninja Cat.

After watching that Randy Pausch lecture the other day I've started wondering what on earth my childhood dreams were.

The more you grow up the more you realise the harshness and the non-fiction version of the world, and you suddently realise that your childhood dreams are either a) not plausible b) just not socially acceptable or c) satanic.

(Saying the word plausible reminds me of a short conversation I had in Utah about me wanting to be married in the San Diego temple. This was a childhood dream actually, and the person I was talking to told me that it was possible and plausible if I was to marry someone from California... I was royally pissed off at that point because it felt like I was being shoo'd and told to go chase Californians... pah ha. My anger management is getting better as I start to rebuild my defenses and my wall.)

So here they are, things that during my childhood I wanted to be or wanted to do.

1. A writer. I used to write fiction stories all the time. I loved it. All about futuristic video games sucking people in, or about foxes. I used to write in a style similar to Wes Anderson (TAKE THAT CHRIS) but he was better than me it is fact. I say was, because now I am just amazing and Wes Anderson will one day be stealing ideas from me.

2. Architect, Lawyer, Airhostess.

3. Animator working for Disney. This is a big one. I went to art school and Dundee to do animation. Through divine intervention I ended up doing graphic design. I'm still waiting to find out what great purpose that has to serve. That and my orange converse. What are they for?

I still want to work for Disney, but I hate them at the same time. See option c of things that can happen to your childhood dreams.

4. An artist, an actress, a movie director, a filmaker.

5. A musician. I've always wanted to be in a band, and i've ALWAYS since the age of 5/6 wanted to play the drums. That should be something I definitely have to fulfill. I've wanted to play the guitar and bass too, as well as the glockenspiel, like Johnny Greenwood from radiohead.

6. A model, a dancer.

7. I've wanted to live in New York, and California.

8. An Olympic Swimmer. I still wish this.

9. I wanted to be Michael J Fox.

10. I wanted to be a goonie.

11. An advertiser.

12. A super awesome wife with mini Vikki spawn that are my best friends.

13. A superhero

14. Strong.

15. A ninja figher, a spy, a sneaky sneakerton.

16. A hat wearer.

17. A cook. A Baker.

18. A Bartender like in Cocktail, so someone can come up to me one day and say 'Bartender, you know how to make a red eye.'

19. I wanted to marry and kiss Tom Cruise and ride on the back of his motorbike.

20. A cat.

There's a lot of random ones.

I might now pick out the best and re-occuring ones.


1. Work for Disney

2. Live in New York and LA

3. Be Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future

4. Be an Olympic Swimmer

5. Be in a super douper rock band (as either the guitarist, the lead singer, the drummer etc)

6. An advertiser

7. A Goonie

8. A superhero (ninja warrior)

9. A Writer

10. An artist

11. Film maker.

Pretty much, I want to be the epitome of popular culture. I want to be Keanu Reeves. PAH HA. Not really, I want to be Michael J Fox.

On top of all that one of my most recent goals is to be on Takeshi's castle or another asian equivalent.

I also just want to travel.

I think the common denomonator in all my childhood dreams was excitement. I wanted another life, a more exciting life, one with crazy goonie adventures and time travel and tom cruise and fame and MC Hammer.

Do do do do, do do do can't touch this. Don't stop... MILLER TIME.

Here's one more thought.

Do you ever sing along with the hoover? Because I for one do, and wait and listen for it to resonate. I love that sound. Singing in harmony with the hoover.

I still Love Jessica Fletcher; or, how China will take over the world one weightlifter at a time.

I think i watched one of the greatest episodes of Murder She Wrote this afternoon. It's not lazy it's recovering. FACT.

I love Jessica Fletcher. It's been a while since i've mentioned it, so it's about time.

She's the love of my life and my divine inspiration.

I've decided I need to be as awesome as her.

Even so much that I just changed my facebook picture back to being her.

The weekend was pretty mediocre. It lacked general socialness, and it pretty much just starred Zero and I.

It kind of has to just now though. Soon, I'll be back fighting crime in no time.

I was watching the swimming at 2am on Saturday night/Sunday morning.

Being the centre of time doesn't really do us many favours. It sucks actually. Those finals were immense though.

I'm gutted Andy Murray was put out, but it was by a Chinese person, So I am not surprised.

I read an article in Time magazine about fat kids, but in that same magazine there was an article about the Chinese sports schools that were created. Delegates scoured villages and towns and found children that had physical potential to be champions. They then forced them into sports schools and chartered their sporting density. Pretty crazy. But that's it. This is where it starts.

When the Americhina war starts I hope it all goes to the right and not the left. I don't want want to be in the centre stage at the centre of time. I wonder whose side Britain will take?

Anyway that won't be for ages yet, but there will be a lot of animosity first and of course China still has to make their conquering move. I have so much respect for the chinese it's unreal. I need to stop reading fiction books and get back on top of my knowledge of the world. The newest Adbusters is out and one side reads Western left to right and the other half reads Asian right to left. Amazing. I love Adbusters.

Anyway, I watched the weightlifting today, won by a chinese person again. It was amazing. She was so beautiful. I wanted to be a chinese weightlifter.

I have so much passion for something, and no way to deliver it. I need to get in about the delivery of my passion and purpose. BAH. Or not. Sometimes, I just can't be bothered changing the world.

That is the quote of the day, and my final thought.

Clint Eastwood's and Hillary Swank's Lips.

I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVE NOT WATCHED MILLION DOLLAR BABY UNTIL NOW.

I tried to make myself cry at it.

No luck.

Haha.

It was so sad though, but the tears have dried up for another six months it seems. The flood gates opened and now they are welded shut again. Just try and make me cry, I dare you.

Hillary Swank gave a top class performance though. What a wonderful non-stereotypical movie. It was such a surprise. I just never expected what happened to happen, it was amazing. But so so sad.

A fantastic script.

Clint Eastwood is such a gem.

Morgan Freeman too. He's always in the most amazing movies.

That's it though isn't it. That's life. It hurts. It's not perfect. And the people the lonliest people in the world always seem to find each other, creating some kind of misfit family.

I love that. I'm not entirely sure if that happens in real life. But I imagine it does. Perhaps that's my next adventure. Strip myself of all associations and find the lonliest people around that still have passion for something.

There's an ad with Mark Boland on it advertising for Orange. That man is a legened. That's the kind of ambition I want. I'm going to swim around the world.

Anyway. Exceptional movie with a hard hitting, cutting non-happy ending.

I've been reading the fourth twilight book and i've not been greatly pleased with it so far. It's just kind of gotten a little predictable and boring. Perhaps I'm just too smart for my own good, but I've been able to see everything coming that has been coming. You would think that the oldest vampires would be smarter than me and be able to put 1 and 1 together to get 1.5 and not 3.

You know?

Pah.

It really does show that they were written for teenagers and not me. Haha. It also shows that I am healing back into my hard shelled British self. Mon eh Brits and their lack of sharing feelings and emotions. YES.

I can forsee Charlie not delivering the line 'That's one thing I've never been able to stomache about Forks, all the damn vampires and werewolves.' That would have been the best ending. We'll soon find out if that is how it ends. I am taking it slow. It might also be the thickest book i've read.

I think once I'm done I'm going to read the catcher in the rye again. Because I need more cynicism and hatred towards society in my life :)

Two Thum's fresh to Hillary and Clint and Morgan.

Million Dollar baby, spot on. Film Four. Amazing. Tomorrow the 9 o clock movie is Shawshank redemption. Get in. More Morgan Freeman.

I also wanted to say, that when Million Dollar baby came out I remember lesbian jill raving about it. RAVING. saying how amazing it was. At first I just thought it was because of the role Hillary once played in Boys don't cry, but now I see it is just an excellent film.

Monday 11 August 2008

Diane Keaton's Lips. (And Keanu's AGAIN)

... were sucking face with Keanu Reeves and Jack Nicholson.

I accidently watched 'Something's Got To Give'. Not to be mistaken for the Drowning Pool song.

ONE nothing's wrong with me

TWO Nothing's wrong with me

THREE Nothing's wrong with me

FOUOUOEURLFKLDSJFAKSJKLFJAKL:SJOAAHHHHHHHH

Let the bodies hit the floo'



Anyway.

Saturday night, late, I as starting my hobby of watching the ends of movies, and happened upon something's got to give. I thought it was in its last hour, but thanks to STV and their old fashioned ways it was scheduled for an hour before the news then another hour after the news at 10.

Hmmm.

So I ended up watching 80% of it.

I also realised that I am the fictional character of a mid-50s woman.

Diane Keaton's character was so me, it was unbelievable.

Although I have not fallen in love with Jack Nicholson, I am not divorced, and I am most definitely not dating Keanu Reeves.

If any of these three were the case I can assure you my blogs might be a little bit more interesting, or they might not exist at all. Especially if I was dating Keanu Reeves because not only would I be molesting him (Mormon style) but I would also be time travelling in a phone box with him while Rufus played guitar; I would be travelling through the matrix and learning kung fu; I would be driving a bus at 50mph; I would be communicating through a mail box two years in the future; I would be visiting him at his dentist surgery while he endeavoured to be a hippy; I would be engaged to him under false pretences so my illegitimate child had a father for my parents' benefit; I would be his drug dealer and everything would actually be partially animated; hell, I might even be an angsty Teen with an undercut who married him while he decided to be a dare devil.

My point being: Keanu Reeves has one of the most eclectic film repetoirs known to man. Someone should call him on it. It's a bit crazy. He gets around.

The gist is, however, I am Diane Keaton. And I wonder if I will end up with Jack Nicholson.

Aaron Eckhart's and Heath Ledger's Deformed Lips

I went to see Batman on Friday night at 11:10pm. The movie didn't start until 11:35 and I was in there until 2:05am. Madness.

I love going to the cinema on my own at stupid times on a random whim. So good. So good.

Batman was rather incredible. Although it was just like lord of the rings three: IT WOULDN'T END. There was just ending after ending. I thought it was over weeks before it actually did end. But I am glad they got so much into it.

I remember watching Batman Begins in Utah on my second last night and being engaged in a conversation about how that style of filmography has been the best way to portray, not only batman, but a lot of superheroes. Although, I don't think it can be compared to the original two Superman movies. Incomparible.

As I sat watching Batman, with, not just the entire middle row, but the two side rows to myself, a freezing cold nose, and my purple and black striped hood up, I realised that the scene in Kill Bill where Bill talks about his favourite superhero is entirely relevant.

Of famous superheroes and their movies, we have Batman, Spiderman, Superman (and Buffy). There might be more, but correct me if i'm wrong, these are the core three.

Batman is an ordinary man, spiderman is genetically mutated and superman is an alien.

What's stopping me from being batman though. I've always professed to be a superhero and no one every really believes me. Take that. Ka Pow (that was a 60s Batman homage there).

So there you have it.

I

Am

A

SUPERHERO.

It's about time we all stopped denying it.

A big round of applause to the awesome Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart (who is a devout mormon), Maggie Gyllenhaal (who I was so pleased replaced the stupid squinty faced Joey from Dawson's creek), Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine and the awesome blue eyed, chisled cheek boned Cillian Murphy.

A mas entertaining movie. All your lips were supreme.

Friday 8 August 2008

Erased my Life.

Have you ever watched 6 years of your life flash before your eyes in a second?

I felt like I was having a near death experience or something.

Upgrading the mac (yes I am still talking about the mac) meant that iPhoto is a little more upgraded too, which means I can now link pictures to my external hard drive and still see them in iPhoto. Like what I do with my iTunes.

Anyway.

I was uploading the pictures and there were about 13,000 of them (and that's not them all) and they just flickered on past my face. It was strange. So quickly as wel. And of course they were animated. I love still frame animation.

I then sat and watched my life be erased from the hard drive of old mac. It was odd. Again, over in seconds.



The other day, when I was in town buying breaking dawn, i parked close to George Square and Borders. When I came back to my car I just leaped in (after punching it by accident and jumping up and down in pain) and then while driving I saw that someone had left a card under the windscreen wiper (which was on, because it's Glasgow and it's summer time).

So it sa there for a few days. I then looked at it. This is what it said



I wondered if they targetted my car because it is a Ford Ka. Hmmm, and it was parked infront of the prettiest Mercedes I've seen in a long long time. I think I actually gawked at it as I walked past it. I love my ka though. Love it. Love.

Hopefully I'll have something interesting to blog about soon.

Oh. So, last week when I was going a bit cray in work my blood pressure was 98 Beats a Minute.

This meant nothing to me because I don't know what my regular resting heart beat is. So I took it the next morning to see the difference and it was 72 Beats a Minute.

Out of genuine curiosity I took my heart rate on Monday at work and it was down in the 50s I think I think 57.

I remember reading that the average rate should be between 70-90 and that people who do endurance sports probably sit lower than 70.

Swimming is technically endurance. Hmmm.

I'm going to take it right now.

Right now it's sitting at 60-64.

Yeah, my heart rate was through the roof last week. Mental.

Meryl Streep's Lips (and two weeks of the Thursday Stats)

Last Thursday wasn't a good day, but I went swimming regardless. My general mood always reflects the ammount of effort I want to put in.

Anyway.

I'll try and remember last week. I remember getting mad at myself because I didn't swim 1250m in 30 minutes. But I've never done that, I just wanted to hate myself haha.

Okay.

Last week:

200m Front Crawl
100m Breast Stroke
100m Back Crawl
200m legs only
100m x 2 of 25m IM (25 Butterfly, 25 back, 25 breast, 25 crawl) with paddles
200m front crawl with paddles


Yeah I'm sucking at remembering.

That's pretty much the gist though.

Last night:

200m Front crawl
100m Breast stroke
25m Breast stroke
25m Back stroke
25m Breast stroke
25m Back stroke
200m Legs (100m Front legs, 100m Breast legs)
200m Front Crawl with paddles
200m Front Crawl without paddles
50m front crawl sprint
50m swim down.

1100m in 30 minutes.

I went to see Mama Mia last night with Donna L. It was pretty amazing. There were a few scenes in it that I wanted to wet myself laughing at. It was insanely funny. Watching Pierce Brosnon burst into song with his serious brow and stragely plastercine-y face was more than entertaining.

I would like to confirm at this time that I HATE Abba. I really really do. And I think the reason I hate Abba is mostly because of the stereotypical Abba fan. If you've ever wondered what the stereotypical Abba fan is then go see Mama Mia and if they don't start dancing at the end then you have been robbed of the true experience. Dancing at the end? I hear you question. Yes. There were people dancing, not just at the end but shimmying in their seats the whole way through the movie. And to top it all off they were all singing along with the movie.

I don't think I've witnessed anything like that before that hadn't been pre-determined. I almost want to go again to busier showing just so witness the Abba loving maddness again.

Not only that but I had to queue to get into the screen. I've never had to do that before. Everyone was so eager to get in there there was a queue. Madness.

I was instilling queue anarchy in the hearts of the British and telling people who were going to see th Dark Knight to skip the queue. It cracked me up. They were torn between breaking the queue law or waiting for a bunch of Abba fans. Utter maddness.

Abba.

I think people like Abba because they aren't interesting enough to like other bands. If I can be so bold to say that. Not everyone though, moreso the people that claim that Abba are their favourite band. I'm sure there are some genuine reasons. But I think for the most part it's something easy to be a fan of, so they do it. It's popular, and they think if they like Abba they are instantly 'fun' people.

Abba: For the Musically stunted.

Don't get me wrong, I had a smile on my face the whole time. And there were men in flippers dancing, and I do wish that sometimes my life was a musical. It was entertaining, but it made me realise why I don't like Abba. Haha.

To add on to this miniature rant I would like to talk about last Friday, when I was leaving the cinema after watching Will Smith's lips I was going down the escalator (the best part of cineworld is taking the escalator for 20 minutes) behind an old couple. In the background an ad for Mama Mia started playing with Dancing Queen as the soundtrack. The lady with white short curly hair and her polyester M&S beige trousers started dancing in front of me. It's wedding music. Strange and odd wedding music.

But I'm trying to work out if Abba are a band that I hate but they produce music I might like.

It's familiar, and it's unavoidable and I think I have been Abba brainwashed by their sleeves and spangles.

Anyway, Meryl streep is hot. I wish I was her.

Shine A Light: I am Keith Richards.

Okay, so on Wednesday I started watching Shine A Light. I desperately wanted to see it at the cinema, I can't remember if I blogged about that adventure, but it was to no avail.

So I got my illegal torrent booty on t'interweb and downloaded it.

I fell asleep during it though because I've been so super tired this week.

I then continued watching it yesterday, which was pretty awesome. Because I using front row (I am such an apple geek it's unreal, front row and remote control exictes me to no end) I had to turn it off to use my computer. So I reopened it in quicktime and then because I was feeling quite fidgety watched it in fast forward.

The end scene was one of my favourites, playing the oh so famous (I can't get no) Satisfaction.

I then uploaded the end scene to youtube. Here's something to look out for: keith Richard's arm. It is somewhat similar to my own.

I forgot to mention that the bracelet I thought I had lost, in fact, reappeared the next day. The oldest, Paul bracelet is still there. I don't know where it went for 24 hours though. Perhaps on an adventure I will never know about.

Also notice in this video just how hot Mick Jagger is.

Also notice the way the video has been shot. It's brilliant. Martin Scorcese is a genius. Fact.

Wednesday 6 August 2008

Sandra Bullock's and Keanu Reeve's Lips. (And Family Guy.)

Oh my gosh, I watched the Lakehouse on Sunday.

I love moves that mess with the space time continuum, but I hate it when they get it wrong. Back to the future gets away with it because it's forgiveable crimes.

The lakehouse however just forgets about time and the past and makes it out that there's only two times in the entire history of time. Sandra Bollocks' time and Keanu Reeves' time.

So silly.

I had a thought earlier today. It was something to do with the Butterfly Effect and all my thoughts being altered.

I've been watching Buffy and Angel tapes again, and it's season five with Buffy's mum and her brain tumour (which was probably enduced by all the memories that had to be put there because of Dawn's existence).

Somehow though, I realised that the Butterfly Effect had something to do with me. I'm not sure what it was though. It could well be that I went back in time and changed whatever it was that I thought was relevant. I was talking to Paul last night about the Butterfly effect. Hmmm.

Terrible movie.

In my last post when I was thinking about laughing with my sides splitting I was reminded of death in family guy when he turns up and laughs for about five minutes. I'm looking for that scene on youtube now. I love it. Actually, that Death episode was the first ever EVER episode of family guy that I ever watched.

I can't find it. I did find this though:



So, I just decided to make the movie myself and host it myself. here it is. 'I'm not done holding my sides'.










Z) Sleep

(that code sucks, but my time has fair expired).

Cool Beans: You Tube Videos of the Day featuring the Schwazzeneger.



Things that make me happy:

Buying DVDs for five spot from Asda when I'm supposed to be buying Human Food.

I bought Hot Rod for a fiver.

Thank you Ross and McGarvatron for bringing it into my life.

Believe it or not, the chick from charmed was in Commando. This movie was madness. I remember there was a MEGA scene that Arnie rips a phone box out of the ground, and he says the name Jenny repeatedly. Amazing. Enjoy the one liners too.



Dead Tired. Oooo when will he stop tickling my sides. My sides are splitting.

Here it is. The phone Booth.


and if you missed it, watch it repeated. It's all about repeating the random scenes over and over (as Brett learned when I insisted in the repetition in the lie budget movie.)



(as the comment says Yes it has to be played six times over haha.)

To finish off our Commando tribute you can see this random fight scene. There's many fight scenes just as ridiculous with bigger guns and less believable outcomes. Haha.

That is for Sale. Please Alphabetise it.

I found myself at a bit of an odd end on Monday at work, there wasn't any work for me to do, so I started sifting through old emails. This was a risky business, because not only was I reading the emails I once received under better circumstance and, what almost feels like, another life, I was reading my responses and emails too. This lead me to realise that

a) Everything changes
b) I come across as quite boring in emails
c) I try too hard
d) I hate that things change that I don't want to change
e) There must be a time that things won't change
f) I worry too much
g) when the stakes (or steaks) are too high (and out of reach on the top shelf) I don't gamble and, again, worry too much
h) I am mourning the loss of a time
i) My thoughts are my own worst enemy
j) I have too much fear (again, only when the stakes are too high. ie. when i care too much)
k) I was always most attractive when I couldn't care less
kk)
l) I seem to just be going through the motions
m) I really like playing the violin
n) I finally got Breaking Dawn – I'm going to read more of it when I finish writing this. I read the first couple of chapters in Starbucks (I miss Toni and the Starbucks banter) and I was almost squealing when Bella walked down the aisle.
o) I am actually a girl and a bit of a romantic (in more of a traditional sentimental sense)
p) I remember too many things that don't seem to matter to any one else
q) I've never fought before, perhaps it's time to do so.
r) I went climbing the other day and aggrivated my fear of heights, hurt all of my muscles but it felt good, I achieved something I would never have done before. From this I learned that I don't participate in things, or do many things at all incase I am terrible at them and people will think lesser of me. This, of course, is a stupid thought, but I have realised this is how my brain thinks. I hold myself back for fear of failing.
s) I fail at a lot of things, I am not good at everything, I am not good at many things, that's why there is trying, and failing and picking one's self back up again, and doing it again. This is why the phrase 'practice makes perfect' exists.
t) I am not exempt
u) I am not an emotion superhero [although if you see an emotional superhero send him my way, he'll make me his he'll make me his all his – my knight in shining armour coming to my emotional rescue (that's one for the rolling stones fans)]
v) Kick ass awesome letter.
w) I do not work well under pressure, I stress too much, and I hate living by a time table. (I knew this from the last time I was working full time, Rufus had to remind me that we had both learned this about myself two years ago. After this realisation it was decided that I shouldn't work Monday to Friday 9:30/10am-6pm any more.
x) I have some really good friends. Some of whom I have never met and yet I spend more time with them than some of the people that I can physically hug touch and drink hot chocolate with.
y) I am not infallable. I am breakable. I am not perfect. I can aim to be perfect. But no one expects me to be perfect. I need to ask for help. I need to stop being so prideful. If I don't stop being prideful I will forget how to have fun. I need to take my own advice. I need to remember everything I've learned in my life so far and continue to use it. Gems like: There are always two choices; make the situation awkward or not, go to America or not, fight or not, live or not, be confident or not, push yourself or not. ALWAYS a choice.
z) Zero loves me, almost as much as Jesus loves me.


This list wasn't all completely compiled from reading those emails I was reading, but the first couple were. The rest are things i've been thinking about since I had to restart on Thursday evening.

I'm still re-booting though. Hugs welcome :)

I am such an iGeek dot com.

iVikki. haha.

My phone is breaking again, and I said that the next time it broke I would get an iPhone. I don't want an iPhone though. I want my gold phone that goes shhhhhwffff shhhhwfffff. So I might just get it fixed... again.

I think the transfer from old mac to new mac is complete. Tomorrow it will be a case of wiping the files, giving it a good background and maybe reinstalling leopard.

Then it will be on ebay.

While clearing out the files I kept finding traces of Nick, the previous owner. I then found out that Nick's surnmae is Brett. Nick (bloody) Brett.

Talk about a theme dot com.

Brekk the external hard drive was named after Brett and based on the ck/kk theme of naming. Vikki, Vik, Nick, Brekk and there we have it Nick Brett. It freaked me out almost as much as Brett Street.

It's not even a British name. That I know of.

Zero's here, she says it's bed time. She's pawing me.

Remember when I fell down the stairs in Queen Street and met John that peed himself. Well that bruise is STILL on my foot, and it still hurts. I think I broke my self, but because I'm a superhero I can live through the pain. I mean, I can climb walls now, while Peter Couper hoists me on a large rope. :)

The other day I was checking out the blow's website and found out there's a song I had never heard before, then I realised there was a whole album of theirs that I had never heard before.

I then fell in love with the blow all over again, not that I fell out of love with them, but it was just reconfirmed.

There's a partial cover of Sting's Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic. :)

I want someone to write a song like that about me one day.

I have a plan, for my own album, based on hearing the sting song, hearing a song by Irene that sounded like a U2 song and remembering the novelty of the Nouvelle Vague covers.

Excited.

here are some kick ass awesome lyrics that prove why the blow are so amazing:

(the internet is currently broken, so I'm just going to talk amongst myself until it comes back on. I've been transferring all my files from old mac to new mac, and I found some msn conversations from about a year ago. One of them was actually the last conversation I had with Ricking. I miss Rick King. There's an example of messing everything up by appearing to be mental/psychotic/stalkerish/pressure bringing. Although the story of Patrick Klassen is probably more accurate in describing my mentalness. With Ricking I don't think I was mental, I was just being me. Perhaps that is my problem. No one understands that me is normal, and that there is no pressure or mentalness because that's just how I am. However, sometimes my behaviour could be mistaken for that of a crazy person depending on how well the recipricant knows about me and knows about my general personality. I'm not mental, i'm just different. I suppose. The internet is still not back. I'm going to go kick it in the face....

So, I remember getting an email from Eilidh once that told me and made my understand what kind of person I am. She said that she and I were similar because we are

1. Over Keen

which makes us


2. Over Care

about the person, friend or otherwise, which leads us to

3. Over Share

possessions, stories, life, openness.

Now, you can ask many people and they will probably tell you that I am not that much of an 'open' person. I just don't share too many thoughts, feelings and emotions. Although I am getting better I still tend to play everything down a little bit. But Eilidh was write, is write. Whenever I get excited about a friend or a new play toy I get over excited. That's what I do. It's like picking up New Mac (pneumatic drill = newmacic drill) I start singing and dancing and bursting with excitement like no other. I then instantly over care about the person which leads me to want to include them in everything I am doing, and possibly everything I've ever done.

Does that make me psychotic? I don't think so.

Believe it or not, but I am having issues just now with thinking that boys think I'm a psycho. That's the only explanation i've come up with so far. That's how I must be perceived. When I like someone, I go overboard. How can that be wrong though? Is that not better than playing games and causing mental torture on someone? I hate being mentally tortured, I do it to myself all the time. So why on earth would I EVER want to do it to someone else? And I would never want to do it to someone I cared for, just in the name of power. This is my failing though, it seems, I don't participate in the chase anymore. Because it's all nonsense. Non-sense.

I'm starting a new honesty chapter. I've been getting the guts to email people from over the years and apologising if I ever did play games with them, because it sucks.

The internet still isn't working. I want to share the Blow Lyrics with you before I go.

I am so tired.

I love chamomile tea, on a breezey summer night (on hammer hill). I'm going to listen to And I remember every kiss. I love Jens Lekman.


So here it is, the reason the blow are good (is good) and the other reason I want to go to Portland and hang out with her.

Hey Boy.

Hey Boy
Why you didn't call me?
I waited for days
I can't believe you didn't call

Hey Boy
Why you didn't call me?
I waited for days
I can't believe you didn't call

A. You're gay
B. You've got a girlfriend
C. You kinda thought I came on too strong or
D. I just wasn't your thing
no ring

Hey Boy
Why you didn't call me?
I waited for days
I can't believe you didn't call

When we sat outside for an hour at the party and talked
I thought something good could be starting
It's not a lot that I want
just some talking
and really, you just injured my pride

Hey Boy
Why you didn't call me?
I waited for days
I can't believe you didn't call

Susan said that maybe you're scared
Shelly says there always is a reason
and Chris said you're probably surrounded by girls and I'm just not one of them you're needing.


Chris is probably right. But then so is Susan and Shelly. Tell me that that does not ring true to everyone's life (Thank you Dris Chaines for uploading it for me. You are the best... and for pointing out how awesome this song is).

But really, how good is the verse 'it's not a lot that i want'. I think boys think all girls are mental. I mean, we are to an extent that we think about weddings and I look up dresses online, haha. But that doesn't mean we want to marry someone after a day, or a couple of weeks. There's no need for the constant fear that we/I am filled with pressure and over eagerness. Yes it appears that I am too keen, but that's just how I opporate. I am just as scared as boys, committment and everything else as boys are of it. My track record with the males of the species isn't the best. I always bail, I always get out, and I always keep them all at arms length (should there be an apostrophe, it is the length belonging to the arm.) I am truly ranting and revealing a random piece of the puzzle to my life.

I really miss Scott. I think when my emotions caught up with me I realised that Scott is actually dead and not coming back, and that I do and will miss him. I am so good at supressing things, and sallying on like the trouper I pretend to be. Then it all comes crashing down. Welcome to the post-university blues as well, welcome to vikkiville.

I am too monogomous.

Favourite bands of 2008: Caribou, Jens Lekman, The Blow, Cocorosie. FACT. And I've seen them all within 12 months.

Cocorosie was September 2007
The blow was October 2007
Caribou was October 2007
Jens Lekman was May 2008

Thank you Glasgow/Salt Lake. Thank you life. I don't think I could ever live too far away from a major city. I love city life. I love live music. I'm going to go sing karaoke in Japan with Dean. Not Dean Martin from the Rat Pack though, although that would be awesome too, but Deanerio Vincenterio my Density.


Today has been brought to you by the letters:

I-H-A-V-E-W-E-T-H-A-I-R

The numbers:

breaking dawn

and the words:

Cat Food.

Today's weather was also asleep for a lot of the day. I need my rest.

Right now the weather is semi-sedated on Chamomile. What a natural herby drug. MEGA.