Cannonball

Today, a boy I know told me that he couldn’t even imagine me with a proper boyfriend. EHH thanks!? I have had a decent handful of Proper Boyfriends in my life thanks.

This is apparently because I am JUST LIKE ONE OF THE BOYS. Am I !? Am I really though!? Of course I’m badly not. But if that’s the way he sees me, maybe that’s the way everyone else sees me too?

Although I would be loathe to describe myself as GIRLIE, I am certainly not a tom boy. I wear make up every day, I paint my toenails and fingernails often, I have 70 pairs of shoes and I never wear trousers.

This same boy told me that I have great powers. I was temporarily chuffed and confused all at once. Super powers? Persuasive Powers? Nope. Apparently, round Birmingham way powers are tits. Thanks for that.

So I am JUST LIKE ONE OF THE BOYS, but with GREAT POWERS. I am a ladyboy, is that what you’re saying?!

Shit the bed, way to kick a girl when she is down eh? I am utterly and thoroughly confused by boys currently. I totally lack boy-luck in my life. And I have no boy-confidence which doesn’t  help.

“the bits in between can be wonderful”.

Does anyone else think Devin Townsend isn’t really that brilliant? You’ve all been tricked.

People have definitely always told me that I have got rubbish music taste and I have always believed them like an idiot. I absolutely have excellent music taste actually, so up yours.

And the first band someone will bring up to try to disprove this is surely going to be Avenged Sevenfold, well guess what? Up yours, still. I don’t even like AX7 when they were some kind of try hard hardcore band. I do think that City Of Evil was verging on ace, and ohh hells bells, the self titled album is totally amazing! It’s an absolute pop music, and everyone knows pop music is the best kind of music, right? This album is totally catchy and well thought out. It also has what basically amounts to BALLADS. My friend Mick loves them too, and we quite often have elongated conversations about them. I reckon he can pinpoint better than I what is so great about them. He and I have brilliant pop-taste though, we know a good pop song I reckon. And you’d probably dispute that too. We both love Roxette. How Do You Do? is his favourite I think, whereas I like Joyride.

In the past couple of years my music loving has gone through the roof. I still find it hard to listen to new bands, or give bands a chance (on record) that everyone else loves. Mainly cos I don’t like admitting anyone else is right about anything I guess. But that’s fine because I like going to gigs a lot, and I much prefer to check out bands live. I sometimes wish there were more seated gigs in the world, but it’s a minor gripe.
Next week I am going to ATP and I am going to watch Fantomas. Let’s not even bother to pretend that I don’t fancy Mike Patton because I absolutely do. They are going to perform the entire Directors Cut album, which makes me really happy because I love that album a LOT! I bought it when I was on holiday in New York one time I think. Once when I saw Fantomas, Dave Lombardo wasn’t there, he was on tour with Slayer. So they had Terry Bozzio on drums. I don’t know a whole lot about Bozzio so I just went and wikipedia’d him, and then followed link after link until I was reading basically an encyclopedia dedicated to Terry Bozzios drum set up. What am I doing with my life?! It’s nearly 4pm on a Sunday afternoon. I am still in bed, my hair looks excellent incidentally, and I am reading about Terry bloody Bozzios drum set up. I can’t even play drums.

Anyway, I have gone off topic. I definitely haven’t got rubbish music taste! It’s eclectic. Yeahh, that’s what my mum said when I was a teen. She bought my friend Caroline and I tickets to see the Prodigy one December, and then I begged her to buy me Madonna tickets (she was drunk, it was easy), and then I made her pick me up from seeing some horrors like Fear Factory from the Pyramids in Portsmouth. That was basically the height of ecelctism (is that a word?) when I was a teen.

Even if it is shit, who decides such things?! Music makes me totally happy, therefore it definitely isn’t rubbish. Last night I felt really glum and listened to Cave In x LOADS! Jupiter, Antenna and Until Your Heart Stops. That 1.18 Until Your Heart Stops instrumental makes me feel happy and sad all at the same time, and a bit like my chest will explode.
Ohh and I listened to the Carpenters too. I really, really loved the Carpenters when I was growing up. I have a little memory of being on holiday in Galway when I was young and sitting on a sand dune listening to Calling Occupants Of Interplanetary Craft over and over on my WALKMAN! I first heard that song when I was about 9, in a hair dressers in Littlehampton and demanded to know who it was. Listening to the Carpenters makes me sad in the same way that watching Watership Down makes me sad, I totally enjoy it but I know I will be sobbing at the end.

My ex boyfriend David knows a lot about pop music from the 80’s and is well proud of it. I really am pretty competitive and couldnt stand him knowing more than me, especially because I thought my pop knowledge was pretty premier league. So now, I definitely do know more about the 80’s than him, excluding Level 42 and related acts. And probably Rush. But I can still spot a fake/bootleg Rush shirt at 20 paces.. Nick Barker.
I like facts about music almost as much as I like the actual music, I have told everyone I know my favourite (Marillion based) pop fact, probably more than once.

Oh here is one thing I am not very good at: describing bands. It makes for difficult conversations with people want that nice descriptive words and comparisons. I just can’t do it very well. Buttt because I am competitive, I am gonna get good at it. It’s just a learning process, like most things, such as comprehending Benediction….

Before I stop talking about music, I just want to note how much I love Dave Witte. What a fast bastard! I would give… something.. to see Discordance Axis. I am trying to think of something I have that is valuable..A little toe would be a sacrifice, but I doubt Witte would want my toe. I once saw Dave Witte play with Melt Banana, that was really brilliant. Beecher, Mono and Melt Banana was the line up, at the LA2. Annnnnnd one time I had a little chat with him about what a brilliant man Phil Collins is.

Oh shit. I have just remembered something bad about Phil Collins. Let’s leave things there, safe in the knowledge that my music taste is just fine thanks.    

I definitely don’t get hangovers ever. Sometimes I wake up early after a heavy booze and feel a bit wrong, so I drink some water, and if necessary take a paracetamol. And then I sleep a bit more and when I wake up proper, all is fine. However, the worst thing I suffer from the next day is wanting to eat something.. But not quite knowing what it is. I reckon the best combo might be plain Walkers crisps and a Mars bar, but don’t quote me on it. Obviously a fried egg and bacon sandwich is good.

Quite often if I have drunk a lot, before I go to bed I drink a pint of water and take some ibuprofen. A pre-emptive strike. AHA! This might seem obscenely organised/boring/sober and so you could conclude, surely I havent really drunk that much anyway. But along with drunkenness comes a fear that I will lose all my belongings- so it brings out some kind of control freak part of me. So I am always checking- keys-purse-phone, keys-purse-phone. And the only times I have ever lost any of those three things I have been sober. Well one time I lost my purse in Brixton after I got beer and poppers spilt on me. Neither were mine- the beer or the poppers.

On Saturday night I got home at about 2.30am, after approximately 12 hours of drinking warm Miller beer at Damnation Festival. I made a preemptive bacon and egg sandwich and it was GOOD. Despite the aforementioned prolonged drinking, I felt nice and calm and relatively sober at 2.30am. So, I ate my sandwich, texted a boy, drank an orange squash and read my emails. How civilised.

Damnation was really very good. I had a lovely time, and would probably only have had a better time if there was more free cider. Or actually ANY free cider. NOT ONE CAN COULD BE FOUND. There was a lot of Miller though, which Shane helpfully put in my handbag “in case I needed it later”. I definitely didn’t need it later, but I guess just as booze brings out a need to be not locked out of my house with no money or phone in me, it brings out a need to definitely not be without any food or drink, in Shane. I witnessed him load a huge bag of food up from the dressing room, he was chuffed as!

I’d like to go and see Gogoroth on Friday.

I have diagnosed myself today as suffering from Extreme Glumness. The remedy is minimal work.

I have been looking at some photos I have up online and I came across these two, which I decided I liked the most.

This one was taken in Scruffy Murphy’s pub in Birmingham, 16th November 2007. My train there was delayed due to an ANIMAL ON THE LINE. I got to pop a faux champagne bottle full of glitter for the purposes of a photoshoot, and it was the first time I met Shanes wife Madoka. We commandeered the downstairs bar and had a small party. When we were dancing my shoelace came undone, so I bent down to do it up. Whilst crouched down, Mick shoved me over on the dance floor and then shouted WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE FLOOR YOU IDIOT? That is definitely bullying. We drank for thirteen hours and then went home to eat Texican at 4am. I really, really loved that day. I also really love the dress I am wearing in this picture. I am gonna dig it out.

P.S I dunno what I am making Mick sniff.

This little fella is A.C Corpsegrinder Falgoust III. I love him so really badly much, it hurts a bit. I love his sister too, but she is hard to take photos of that make her look good. It’s because she is black, but I am not a racist. Honest. So this picture can represent them both. They have totally, definitely been my mates for over four years now. We have lived in 7 different houses together. I really miss them when I am not with them. Which some people might find odd, but I would definitely rather invest my emotions in a living creature than a stuffed animal or similar I reckon.

 
Please ignore testicles.

Lately I have been thinking about relationships a fair bit, and so far I am concluding I am better off single.

This is largely because I am loathe to compromise on…much. But life doesn’t let you go through it without having to compromise a BIT. So I do. But I am really happy with myself, and I don’t want to change for anyone. Jane reckons I wouldn’t really like someone who just fits in with me, which is what I said. But I think she thinks I mean someone who adapts to fit in with me. Yeah I would really badly hate that- I meant someone who is just… no trouble, they just fit in, seamlessly. They definitely must exist.

I have previously been too particular with my selection criteria. I can definitely live without a ginger in my life, but it is still preferable, I won’t deny that. But saying I want someone that lives outside of this city, or someone with artistic creativity.. well, it’s a bit specific isn’t it. True, I probably couldn’t really identify with someone with no passion, but ehhh you can’t plan such things can you.

In short, I am gonna think about things a lot more before engaging in a full on relationship again. I don’t want to look back and go OH! I was an idiot, or I did some dead stupid things. I have mostly got away with not feeling like that, but I certainly have made errors in past relationships. And I am only going to date someone I think is The Best. Mick Kenney says I shouldn’t settle for any less. I well believe him.

I went to the Christkringlemarkt. I can’t stop saying it. I am totally boring. What’s funny about a Christkringlemarkt?! Saying it in a German accent, that’s what. I want to loiter about there every day.

Last year I was in town on my own during a week day- I very probably had a job interview, I find job interviews preeeetty soul destroying so often I would go out to lunch on my own afterwards to cheer myself up. Never before. I am too clumsy to eat when wearing an interview outfit. Yeah, I went there and ate a sausage standing round a teacup table with some middle aged men. Last night I ate a massive sausage in a tiny bread roll and got ketchup all over myself. And then I drank all the booze in one cup, as previously described. Then a bunch of other stuff happened and I was lying on the kitchen floor with my cats, with a tiny tear in my eye talking to Ryan Clark and being baffled at life. Then I got in to bed and texted a boy. Now I am here.

Last night I had the best time in Morrisons that has ever happened probably. I liked it.

I was thinking how I would really like to go on a date.. in the next month. This is for a specific reason, besides loneliness and a fear of being alone forever.. which I don’t have. Yet. Maybe soon. It is because I think that the German Market would be an excellent place for a date. But not on a Friday or a Saturday night, because on Friday and Saturday Nights you probably get racists called Gary in there.

But other days would be pretty fun I’d imagine. You would possibly have to restrain yourself from making lewd comments if you went for a bratwurst.. but only if you want to. If you want to be lewd, you can, your date will just have to deal with that. You can get some stuff covered in chocolate, ideally not a bratwurst. And you can get boozed. They just sometimes seems to put all the alcohol in one mug with some cream on top, but it still tastes good, and do you know why? It’s cos it’s mulled. Mull that one over- it’s true.

Last year after Damnation Festival a man got into my bed uninvited. I decided that was fine as I was so tired, I would just ignore him and go to sleep. Then he took his clothes off. It was alarming. He did try to take my clothes off too, but somehow I resisted his charms. This year, after Damnation, Darren Donovan will be likely getting into my bed, I don’t find him alarming. Although, my cat, Linda, has never forgiven him for…an incident that occurred last year.
 
It’ll be fine.

The Man List.
I asked Jane yesterday to imaginary matchmake me with anyone in the whole world, that she thought I was dead compatible with, regardless of where they lived, whether they were single/taken or any other of those sorts of troublesome factors that get in the way of a good thing.

WELL! The results were surprising. As were Alices answers today.

I am baffled by how some people must see me, really.

Dial- A- Drink.What a revolutionary concept! Well, when I lived in Brighton, such a thing existed in my life and it was called Booze Brothers. HO HO HO. I never used such a service though until Saturday. Then racist slurs happened and I almost got right under the floor boards.

I have a dentist appointment on Christmas Eve. If they do stuff to me, which means I can’t eat Delias Chocolate log, or those tiny sausages wrapped in bacon which MAKE Christmas, then I am seriously gonna kick off.

I am gonna book train tickets. TODAY.

Wellllll, in the past 24 hours this blog has had 15 views and every single one declined to comment letting me know who they are.

My natural conclusion, therefore I am concluding my Dad is a super-refresher, blog-stalker.
 
OH!

See yerrrr.

I did laughing until my chest hurt last night. I was out of breath just from living.

Tonight I am  gonna hug my mum right in. And try to convince her to go to Santiagos and drink Brandy Alexanders. Yeahhh!

I have received no less than three compliments on my jumper today. It is blue, cowl necked and short sleeved. I thought it made me look a bit middle aged and also a bit.. busty. It has sparkles in it. Gosh, I have just made it sound very disgusting. Debbie and Steve have been discussing it, and have concluded it’s definitely in my top three outfits I have ever worn to work.

Now, listen, I know people are reading this, because blog.com gives me stats. I like stats, apart from the ones I have to prepare for meetings at work. I am now going to ask you to reveal yourself. Or give me a clue if I know you. Somethingggg, anything. I am curious. I don’t mind who does read it, with one exception which I will get to in a minute, and I am not going to change what I write, I just badly want to know.

The exception is my dad. I would be surprised if he has found this already, but also, seeing as he has trawled the internet for evidence of my drug-taking and sluttish behaviour previously, I wouldn’t put it past his e-dectective skills. Incidentally, Dad, if you are reading this, that youtube video you have been watching isn’t even me- I haven’t been to the Leeds festival since probably 2004.

Here are some things to look forward to:
-Seeing my mum on Friday. Oh! That’s tomorrow.
-Damnation next weekend
-Liverpool for Grief/Trap Them/Ramesses/ T’ Fog the day after
-All Tomorrows Parties
-Aimee Foster at  the Christmas Market
-Christmas. Legitimately being able to force people to listen to All I Want For Christmas Is You -every day, and having my own Christmas tree.

I still feel subdued, but I am okay. The aches from Mondays arm-wrestling are wearing off, but now I want MORE.

Now, tell me who you are please?

My mother and sister have been requesting my Christmas wish list for a few days now so I have been giving that some thought lately.
Alice and I looked up Singstars last week. I definitely want the one with Call The Shots, by Girls Aloud on it. I really shitting love that song, right to death. Brilliant.
I nearly always ask for books for Christmas, but I havent read very many books this year. That makes me feel kind of sad. I used to read in the bath and in bed pretty often, but that has fallen by the wayside. I have plenty of books to read all ready and waiting, so I’m not sure I need more for Christmas. Among those waiting to be read are some that I borrowed from my step dad last Christmas is a book called Somebody To Love by Grace Slick.

In case you are unsure, Grace Slick is a mental. Alice thinks she looks scary in the video for “We Built This City On Rock And Roll”.. wellll you should see her now! Fully terrifying! She used to be quite a looker though, and from what I know of her already, I like her. I might read that book this weekend, and then decide if I still like her afterwards. Here she is, looking pretty good and non-scary.

What I was actually going to write about before I got distracted by Grace is that I think I want a digital dicatphone. Whenever James Hoare permits a conversation about our great book, things will start happening. If things don’t start happening soon, I will go solo. However, either way, I will need a dictaphone for when I start recording peoples stories and memories of grind in the 1980’s and 1990’s.

So, I started to research dictaphones. The best bit is the user reviews of course as they’re more honest than a manufacturers description. They are all pretty standard, pointing out the best bits and the flaws. Until I came across one who said that a particular model of dictaphone was USELESS for covert recording. I thought that was pretty funny, surely there are laws around such things? Anyway, it continued and stated that it was a pretty good dictaphone to leave strapped to the underside of a table for 2 or more days, as he had done and achieved good quality voice recordings of everyone in the room during that period.
OK MENTAL!

That’s all really.