Festive Recipe #1 - Magical Mulled Beverages.

Mummy dearest just emailed me this. I cannot wait to go home now.

Cider recipe:Score and bake 8 small coxs apples for 20 mins in the oven.
Put all of the following in a pan together:
4 pints of dry cider, 8 oz of soft brown sugar, 20 cloves, 5 cinnamon sticks, 10 all spice berries (or if you cant get them, cranberries), the juice of 2 large oranges, half a grated nutmeg.

Mulled wine recipe:Put all of the following in a pan together:
1 bottle of red wine, 1 litre of orange juice, 10 cloves, 5 cinnamon sticks, 2 or 3 whole clementines including skin, half a nutmeg.
For a twist, add in 10 whole peppercorns to make it hot.

For both recipes:Warm it up but DO NOT let it boil.
Serve it in a glass using a ladle.
(It's nice to make in the morning then serve at night).

OMG.

FACE BOOK HAS A NEW PHOTO VIEWER. MENTAL INNIT.

Addiktion #21 - I thought of you.

I'm really, really excited to see Best Coast tomorrow night at Glee Club. Bring on the fun, and yet more rum...

Addiktion #20 - Best Friendz.

Tonight I'm going to go see these cool kids, accompanied by some even cooler kids, play at HMV instiute in Birmingham. I'm excited. They've been a top summer band for me, though the vile attitude that they put on in interviews, and apparently live, do put me off.


Their self-titled album is something wonderful, something glorious and fun, something focused on what pop culture should be about - havin' a good time makin' some tunes them youngsters can dance to, and last, but not least, gettin' laid, right?


In honour of this all too cliched sentiment, it's definitely time to dress up and venture out of my chilly terraced student house. It's time to drink rum, time to wear lipstick, time to sport that new hosiery I've been saving for anything put work or time trudging about campus. It's time to have a fucking good time with some good time friends.


SO BRING IT ON BRUM, GIMME WHAT YOU GOT (but please, would you skip the snow? I'm already tired of it).






POST SCRIPT
I dedicate this post not only to The Drums, but also their biggest fan, a certain Miss Smith who's Twenty First birthday is looming. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADY LUMP.

SNOW.

I hate it.

*

Apparently, the difference between the words "The" and "A" is as big a deal to the opposite sex as it is to me. Perhaps even more... 
S'BARE JOKE, INNIT.



(But please, remember, beloved Boy, that that is never my meaning. My meaning is something much more meaningful. Please, remember that.)

Addiktion #19 - Your dreams came true.

Remember how good Adele used to be? Remember before she got all big and commercial and monopolised Radio One's playlist for so long that you started to resent how good her voice is? Well, Adele and her beautiful voice, that sang us (and High Contrast) something as lovely as Hometown Glory are back. Here's her new single, Someone Like You, sung on Jools Holland's last Late and Live show of the year.

Pure, resonant beauty.




I heard that you're settled down,
That you found a girl and you're married now.
I heard that your dreams came true.
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you?


Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light.

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited,
But I couldn't stay way, I couldn't fight it.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me, it isn't over...

Never mind, I'll find someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best for you too.
Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead...

You'd know how the time flies.
Only yesterday was the time of our lives.
We were born and raised in a summery haze,
Bound by the surprise of our glory days.

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited,
But I couldn't stay way, I couldn't fight it.
I hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me, it isn't over...

Never mind, I'll find someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best for you too.
Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.

Nothing compares, no worries or cares.
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made.
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

Never mind, I'll find someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best for you too.
Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."

Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.

*

"We've got it good. We've got it goin' on."

- A boy.

Ah. Oui, Bon Voyage!

So, yesterday I was back at work, slaving away in the absurdly busy generic coffee shop, and none other than those two presumptuous Parisians just happened to walk in, again.

Clearly an unavoidable and somewhat awkward situation for me, and perhaps them.

There was a stunted and flustered interaction, where they forgot that I speak English, not French, so was having to scream over the caffeine-fuelled chaos that is my workplace: "SORRY? WHAT? PARDON? SORRY? WHAAAAAAAT?!" until I'd gathered their order.

Not really the romantic setting for two men, who will "depart for Paris within the hour", to conclude the sweet nothing that was their stay in Birmingham, with an English stranger, is it?

What could persuade anybody, particularly pretty-faced, cultured young men, to bother traipsing all the way through The Bull Ring (rammed with vile brummies and gaudy festive decoration), with their hefty suitcases (one was a battered tan patent affair, the other was only Louis Vuitton, ya know...), to sit at a grubby, littered table in order to drink "chocolat-chaud" and waste time before their train arrived to whisk them back to Paris?

Certainly not me, the Elusive English Woman, what with my frizzy mess of a pony tail and incessant screaming of "ONE MEDIUM DECAF LATTE TO GO" for four straight hours, on a hellish Sunday morning.

Hmmm..

French men, especially hungover ones, bewilder me. 

Bless, innit.

Addiktion #18 - Always find something wrong.

Every time I watch this I'm torn between awe and a subdued sense of disgust. In this instance, would you describe Kanye as a genius or a fucking criminal? I don't know.


If it wasn't so self indulgent ("this is for the scumbags" 'n' all) I'd describe the video as beautiful. The dancers are indescribably talented.

It's quite entrancing to say the least, bewitching even...

Addiktion # 17 - Here's All I Know.

I have been totally consumed by this track for a good few months now. The album, Forget, is now being advertised all over spotify, and made it to 54th of the Rough Trade Albums of the Year.
The album is an interesting one, but not as impressive as I'd anticipated - this is, and it pains me to admit, a pretty standard affair for most Brooklyn "Alternative" artists these days.

But, this song is perfection. The words will follow me around forever.
And as per, he's a fucking babe, from Brooklyn, standard innit ;)


You're my favorite daydream,
I'm your famous nightmare.
Everything I see looks like gold,
Everything I touch goes cold.
Castles in the snow.

Here's all I know:
Your checkered room and
Your velvet bow.
Your Elvis songs in my ear,
That moonlit voice that I hear.

Now we are bold as brass
We walk along a golden crest
We hide away for a week
We only look and don't speak.

You're my favorite daydream,
I'm your famous nightmare.
Everything I see looks like gold,
Everything I touch goes cold.
Castles in the snow...


 

Addiktion #16 - I don't wanna wake up now.

Take me somewhere.

This is a DEFINITE MUST-SEE for me. Appeals to pretty much every artistic, romantic, glamourous notion I possess and pursue.
It'll be showing at Birmingham's Electric Cinema 10-16th December, and at Nottingham's Broadway Cinema 10-31st December.


Very excited..

*

Until this morning (during a workshop on Hemingway) I'd never thought of myself - a typical, aspirational literature student, mostly conforming to the cliches of a pupil in the UoB Humanities department - as a Humanist.

When I google-search it, the screen pops up with a variety of sites, all very relevant and interesting. Click here for the brief Wikipedia definition of the term, and here is a further explanation of Humanism as a concept. I'm learning more and more everyday about my interests, passions and the possible paths I could go down in my life. This morning has made a few things more certain.

To sum up, however vaguely, what I'm trying to put across I'll try quoting a friend and course mate, let's call her Red Felt Hat Girl,  in what she said over a festive beverage after our class today -

'If you're completely non-passionate about something, anything, then what's the point in doing anything?'

...
Hear hear!

<3

Addiktion #15 - I promise I won't be such a brat.

Here's something of what it looks like inside my head this morning.

Pick up the phone, I wanna talk
About my day, it really sucked.
The sun was out, I thought I was flyin'
But then you slipped into my mind.


I wanna see you but I know I can't
Cos you're not home, you're never home.
I can't remember why you left ,
And why you tookback all your stuff.


I'm sorry I lost your favourite t-shirt,
I'll buy you a new one a better one...

Pick up the phone, I wanna talk,
About how I miss you, I miss you so much.


Hop on a plane, come back to see me?
I promise I won't be such a brat.


I promise I won't be such a brat.
If I promise you anything, I promise you that,


I promise that I won't be a brat.
If i promise you anything, I promise you that.


I miss you...


POST SCRIPT
I'm very excited about Best Coast at the moment as The Boy is being a babe and taking me to see them in a couple of weeks. Will be the first gig I've been to in ages, with Drums to come after over the following weekend. So giddy with girly glee, innit.

Addiction #14 - I don't ever want to be here?

This track has been haunting me from all over the place for the past few weeks...



I can't decide whether this band are worth championing as the next big thing, as orginal, or at least as talented musicians. There is definitely something there though.

Ah. Non, merci.

What is it about French men that makes them believe it's necessary or appropriate to transcend all boundaries of the standard English Etiquette in romance? The somewhat charming presumption that a girl (a polite, friendly one serving them from behind a busy counter in a generic coffee shop) might care to join two strange, young Parisians for a drink, and "perhaps dinner?" bewilders me.

Luckily, today I played it cool and didn't go for the flustered and later cringe-worthy response of "uhhmm well, sorry, actually, uhhhmm, no, well I kind of, uhmmm have a boyfriend so NO, but uhhm, have fun though, uhhm, I guess...".
Instead, I wisely opted for the "Ahhh, sorry guys. I already have plans, though I have no doubts you'll enjoy your evening in our fabulous city. Good Bye."

I'll admit, it was flattering. But we girls gotta try to preserve that all too precious image of the Elusive English Woman we've been cultivating for centuries. Right?

So am I, even in the most trivial of form, a worthy ambassador for our Great British Youth?
Blates am, innit. ;)

Fragment #5.

Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her;
If you can bounce high, bounce for her too,
Till she cry 'Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover,
I must have you!'

- THOMAS PARKE D'INVILLIERS. [F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1926]

Addiktion #13 - Provincial Noises.

For me, this is the soundtrack of today.

Suddenly, all your history's ablaze,
Try to breath, as the world desintegrates.
Just like autumn leaves, we're in for change.
Holding tenderly to what remains.
And all your memories, are as precious as gold,
And all the honey, and the fire which you stole,
Have you running through all your red-cheeked days,
Shaking loose these souls, from their sacred hiding space...

Hold your heart courageously
as we walk into this dark place.
Stand, steadfast erect and see
that love is the province of the brave.

Pushed under this expanse of bursting stars,
Let this burning brightly illumintate the where we are.
In this hollow that lovers' voices occupy
Let it follow that we let it free, let it fly...

Breaking open the walls of this cage.
Intoxicated, oh so amazed,
Much like falcons tumbling from the heights at play.
Conjoined, talons engaged...

Hold these hearts courageously
as we walk into this dark place.
Stand, steadfast beside me and see
that love is the province of the brave...

Love is a promise of the Brave.

*

I suppose this is as good a time as any (the Birmingham University clock tower has just rung - it's half past two on a cold Wednesday morning in November) to reflect on and consider why I'm bothering to write these posts, why I worry what people I know and love, and those I don't know, might take from what I'm putting out here.

It's been a confusing time lately. Many highs, a fair few lows. Pretty standard for anybody, particularly those interested in words, meanings, feelings and what makes us behave the way we do.
Pretty much every second of every day I draw meaning from one thing, anything, and relate it to something else - perhaps a past memory or lesson learnt, perhaps a lyric or word I remember and tie to a certain moment, a fragment of life I've recorded forever in my head

All this, this writing, streaming of my thoughts, feels very self-indulgent. Especially as it's not being written in a diary no one will read, it's here for anyone who happens to click a certain link to read - whether you might enjoy and appreciate what's here, or choose to discard it as worthless perhaps, or at least pretentious and self-absorbed.

Perhaps it is.
I suppose that right now I'm as unsure of what this is for, what purpose there is behind the words I use to express myself (whether in spoken conversations, emails, text messages, poems, letters, diary entries, articles, posts or academic essays and book reviews). Language, the utilisation of words to create meaning, communication, have always had a great impact upon me. Often, I can vividly remember and accurately recall specific lines from books, songs, conversations or articles that others might have forgotten or discarded as irrelevant. It's true that I often hoard things too much. Cruel words that people have used, or beautiful ones, I find hard to let go of. I will hold on and on to something, when those involved will totally forget it. I suppose I could say that I try to absorb the majority of meanings around me in order to record the essence of what emotion, feeling or atmosphere was there at the time.
I can be very nostalgic, often overly so. In fact, I can be so reflective and buried in the past that those with me in the present can tire of me completely. I understand this, and acknowledge it as mostly a flaw. Though at times my drive to archive the things around me (the events, emotions and words) can bring back something beautiful. It's a very human thing to preserve history. Though I then wonder and worry that to think of my life, with all it's shallowness, transience, fickleness and immaturity, is a very High and Mighty way of thinking, that might take away from my understanding of the things around me.

I don't know. I think I'm confusing myself. It feels good to be writing this down though, at least somewhat fluidly. Usually thoughts will come to me, ideas or ways of explaining my meaning, that are really just fragments of what's in my head.
I usually rely on the thoughts and expression of others, especially in songs - there's always been something about music that has captured something more than I am able to express with just my own voice or writing. That's why I post songs most regularly on here. A song is able to capture a moment or feeling or meaning so effectively in such a short space of time, that I will always hold any talented musician in the highest esteem. The cultural phenomenon of Rock 'n' Roll will always make a strange kind of sense to me, and to most people, I guess.

In the morning I expect that I'll read this back and regret having posted it. Putting these very personal thoughts out in such an anonymous, yet public and open, space makes me feel quite nervous, quite vulnerable to judgement. I can be very open, like a picture book at times, but also very defensive of and insecure in my own thoughts and ideas about things. I need to re-build my confidence. I guess this shows that I'm doing just that, piece by piece - word by word, even.

I just need to remember that this is for me. And that I'm not actually, confidently, expecting anyone to be directly interested in what I write here. Not even the likes of my family, close friends, even my Boyfriend.
Yet, I do doubt that I'll feel as if this post is worth deleting or editing extensively - I guess that on here, once it's shared, even if someone I never knew reads it, then it's permanent. Like a writer seeing their name in print, or a musician hearing their work played on the radio for the first time.

This blog, for me, is a stream of consciousness. Pure and simple, or, false and complicated. I'm not 100% sure. 
One thing I do know is that I'm incredibly passionate about the study of literature, particularly the C20th American literary canons of Modernism, Post Modernism and even Post-Post Modernism (with the ideas of nostalgia, realism, experimentation in narrative style, and stream-of-consciousness running central to my understanding). Many of the writers I'm studying now have already influenced me greatly in my ideas about language, meaning, interpreation and varying forms of expression. 

So, I now feel I'm free to express myself here at whim, in whatever form takes my fancy...



[If you bothered to read this all the way through, I guess that I hope you see something in it.]

Addiktion #12 - Wilder Nothing.

For various reasons, these lyrics really resonates with me tonight. Perfect for some much-needed relaxation and reflection.


...
It's true, I will talk too much.
Cos our lips won't last forever and that's exactly why.
I'd rather live in dreams, and I'd rather die.
...
Pretty face, could you make a joke with me?
I'm dyin' just to let things go.
Do you remember the lightening and storm?
That was the first time that I really felt you.
...
Cos our lips won't last forever and that's exactly why.
I'd rather live in dreams, and I'd rather die...



We've got eyes in the back of our heads.
[I've got eyes in the back of my head.]

Fragment #4.

'Forget everything and remember.'

IAN BROWN.

Addiktion #11 - Dem Localz.

I've had Local Natives' album Gorilla Manor pretty much on repeat since June. I deem it to be one of the best albums of 2009/10. It's hard to accurately describe (without doing the worst and comparing them to all other contemporary bands I love) what they're about, and to sum up quite what is so appealing about their music.
BUT -I fucking adore them.

Their sound is ever relevant, and very current, despite releasing their debut a good year ago now. The use of beautiful, swelling harmonies (though regaining popularity in the general music scene) is best left to them. Especially when taken in conjunction with the emotional, but harmless, lyrics - Gorilla Manor offers anecdotes about Grandfathers past, Parisian adventures, spending days in one room with a lover... I could go on.
Perhaps it's the sentimental, yet very approachable, way that these guys choose to write and perform their work. They take it seriously, but are not embarrassed of the evident pop influences in their music.

In the Guardian Music, Journalist Andrew Purcell put it perfectly when he wrote 'Local Natives are a focused unit, aspiring to a much more controlled euphoria' while comparing them to the likes of Broken Social Scene, Fleet Foxes, Grizzly Bear, and [GOD FORBID] Vampire Weekend. They are true artists.
I now want more than anything to be going to see them live some time soon. Just look how glorious they are in performance! Definitely worthy of taking The Shoes for an outing...

They're playing the Constellations Festival in Leeds this weekend and despite the fact that the likes of Sleigh Bells, Gold Panda, Four Tet, The Vaccines, Liars and Broken Social Scene will be sharing the stage with them over the event, I'd probably write off all others to see these boys play a set. Have missed too many opportunities all summer to witness it. So it's even more gutting that I have work at The GenericWidelyRecognisedCoffeeShop all weekend, innit.

POST SCRIPT
What a beautiful, beautiful gaggle of fine young gentle men.
I guess it's just a added bonus that they're all bloody pengerz, innit ;)

Cheeze.and.whine?

Just trotted to the shop to grab a couple of bits in anticipation of a chilled evening - a good hearty meal, perhaps a couple of drinks and some good company. In the process, I didn't realise I look like the ultimate lit. student cliche attempting to have a grown-up evening. The only items I purchased in my local were cheese and a bottle of Shiraz (the main ingredients for any good meal/night). Mr OMCO just chuckled and asked if I was having the Book Club round...

How embarrassing - though it provides a good opportunity to dedicate a post to Julian and Tarquin. Utter babes.



ENJOY.

A concise response to the incompetence of the world's finest, our very own National Health Service.

fu·ri·ous/ˈfyo͝orēəs

1. Extremely angry.

2. Full of anger or energy; violent or intense.

Addiktion #10 - Cowboiiz.Indianz.

The Ultimate Woman?
Ahem, I think so.

Please Sleighbells, would you play any other night but a tuesday in Nottingham/Brum?! I can't ever justify missing my seminar first thing on Weds - OTHERWISE I'D BE THERE, BANGIN' MAH HEAD ON DAH CEILINGZ, INNIT. ;)

Pet Haters.

Immature and petty attitudes. 

Get the fuck over yourself kids. The world's a far bigger place than you've realised thus far...

OMFUGGG.

"WATCH THIS NOW. I nearly died - It makes my heart stop."

- Ma Lil Sis, FB.

Crush #3 - Butterz.

STRUT GURLZ,
STRUT.

Bad News.

It's one of those days.


Someday my pain, someday my pain,
Will mark you.
Harness your blame, harness your blame,
And walk through.

With the wild wolves around you,
In the morning, I'll call you.
Send it farther on.

Solace my game, solace my game,
It stars you.
Swing wide your crane, swing wide your crane,
And run me through.

And the story's all over you,
In the morning i'll call you.
Can't you find a clue when your eyes are all painted Sinatra blue?

What might have been lost...


Don't bother me.

Addiktion #9 - 'S in the the story.

Sheer Genius. I can't get over how good this guy is. He's so, so smart with his choice of songs and production, but it just comes across as totally effortless.
I loved FU, and his Band Of Horses cover, but this just trascends both of those for me this morning. Love him (and KOL, who do not get half as much credit from their old fans as they deserve to).

FAO Cee-lo: if you're reading this, please get in touch as I have a million things I'd LOVE you to cover. Let's make millionz. You Gem. <3




POST SCRIPT
I also LOVELOVELOVE the fact that Mr Green travels around with a band of sexy leapord women in tow... What a babe.

FLASH BACK.

BESTIVAL 2010 WIV MAH DOGGZ.

always

Prestige?

SIKK.



POST SCRIPT
I came across this image in my 10 (?!) year old cousin's FB PP album. Bloody gangstah.
Gotta represent the fam innit. <3

Crush #2 - AssJack.

I just discovered on FB that two of my good friends from home, not living glamorously about LDN, hung out with none other than the original Jack Ass boiis this weekend.
I think I just died inside. I'm SO gutted I wasn't there. Sickeningly jealous (but also mildly embarrassed by this fact).

Johnny Knoxville is one of my ultimate 'guilty' crushes. Is that a bad thing? I honestly don't care.

I don't even have the desire to explain why. He's just excellent/tremendous/inspirational/ridiculous/obscene/

intriguing/sensuous/absurd all at once. One could argue he's a modernday, somewhat ironic, Hero of American culture, if not the world- what more could a girl want?! <3

POST SCRIPT

I know I sound foolish, school-girly and just plain stupid. I'm not expecting you to agree. But, perhaps the reason I feel so passionately about him is because his birthday is the day after mine (or so I found from a 20second google search...).

We are SO meant to be ;)

'Caffeine Rush' - The story of a day's work at The GenericWidelyRecognisedCoffeeShop - Chapter One.

I've just necked two strong but sweet instant-highquality-microground-rather-than-freezedried coffees. This is an attempt to shift the blur from my vision, take the ache from my ears, and encourage my limbs to function anything but lethargically.

I'm off to a shift at The GenericWidelyRecognisedCoffeeShop today (apparently I'll get into trouble if I use their official name, despite being a 'family member'. You'll most likely have grabbed a cappuccino from 'us' at some point, or something fancy like an iceblendedcoffeebasedrinkwithaddedsyrup,creamand/orother).
Work is situated in the middle of the Bull Ring, Birmingham. It is rarely an explicitly jolly affair.

I usually get obscenely rammed shifts over every weekend, or, like on Thursday, ridiculously busy opens - such as on Thursday, 4th November, for the absurdly early (but still exciting) launch of Christmas and all things red, festive, merry, over-indulgent and over-priced.

JOY TO US ALL! (BARISTAS ESPECIALLY.)

I don't have enough time to get into a proper rant, or decide whether The GenericWidelyRecognisedCoffeeShop organisation I work for even deserves one. Probably, though I do LOVE my job. I really genuinely enjoy steaming milk, pouring coffees, toasting paninis an generally making people's day. The job satisfaction, and added employee perks, can be great - and it's always fun to get into a heated discussion over a mug of instant about whether my employers are evil or not (THEY ARE NOT, FUCK OFF).

But, I can't help feeling that I'd much rather spend my day in the library, listening to Camera Obscura in my headphones, than serve the likes of Birmingham's punters - the kind of delightful people who (for example) think it's super-clever to wait 18 minutes in a queue for a coffee, to then not know what they want, reject all polite and helpful suggestion, then complain after another 8 minutes until their coffee is served to then complain a good 6 minutes later that it's not hot enough, then to claim that the industrial standard thermometer I've just put in it is broken, and the evidently scalding beverage they've wasted so much of their time purchasing, is tepid.
Rant over. Just don't be that guy. You're likely to find all sorts of things in your skimmed-milk mocha with extra mocha and half-caff espresso... (not that I, or any other barista, is morally capable of doing such a thing - just don't be that prick.).


Anyway, I'll be late if I don't get goin'. Time to get festive, efficient and remotely pleasant to be around - though if the ticket machine at Selly Oak train station is broken again, or taken up by RETARDED students consumed by Jack Wills and fake tan, I would advise against coming to visit me at work today. Not that any of you give a shit, it's pretty much impossibly to give away free coffees or even discount. Soz bbz.
Text me for a stiff drink afters though, I am 99% sure I'm going to need it.


So, please enjoy your drink! And have a nice day, now!

RisenShine.

"You're amazing, but wasted."


When your Boy says this somewhere between 5.12 and 9.47 in the morning, both somewhat clouded with that hungover mist, it can be easy to misinterpret this statement as something quite lovely and poetic in an alcohol-consumed blur. 

But alas.
In truth, I'm just a mess.

The Shoes. Cont.

These shoes are seriously making my life.

I know it's shallow, materialistic, vain even but they determine the ultimate good mood, just when I look at them and know that they are mine.
Precious items. Gives me a good feeling about tonight...

And: STRUT.

CHECK OUT DEM PRETTIEZ. <3















POST SCRIPT
I think I got it wrong before (big cringe) when referenced Boy London in my thanks - the golden russian doll transfer on the sole of each suggests that they are part of UO's Russian Delinquent range. I can't work it out online, but they are fucking gorgeous.

Triple Denimm.

Hmmmm....

CAN IT BE DONE WITHOUT LOOKING LIKE A TWAT?


They don't even match. At all.
Pale, pale Levis cut-off shorts + Vintage cut off pale chambre denim shirt + big-ass acid-wash denim fur-lined Levis jacket.


Blatantly too much going on for starters. I'm still undecided - especially in the context of an early morning outfit choice, pre-seminar. It's still going to happen, I'm still going to wear it. I don't have the energy to put in enough thought to change now - just caught myself in the mirror and hadn't even realised. Impulsive fashion crime? Or not even noticeable blend of denims due to over exposure thanks to the likes of COW?
Answers on the back of a post card please.




Have a nice day, kids.

Addiktion #8 - Goodnight.

See you in the mornin'.

;)

ICK.

Sorry kids, but anyone who quotes Bob Marley in their facebook "About Me" is clearly a dick, straight up. Yes, even if it's relleh hevveh shitt, mann.

*

'For you, I strive for perfection.
To earn your love, your affection.
Have I cheated the world some how
To have you all for me?'

Fresh Nostalgia.

'This is a reality check.'



Big, big City High Vibes - 'Damn. What would you do?'



POST SCRIPT
HOB is very likely to have a strop at me posting this. She told me about it, she takes the credit, whatever that may amount to... <3

Fragment #3

'All the mayhem I have caused, and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp.'


- Patrick Bateman/Bret Easton Ellis, American Psycho.

Mad Men #1

"You're a hair cut, you know that?"

- Series 4, The Summer Man.

An Ultimate Heroine.

Fragment #2

'Oh myself, why hast thou abandoned me?'


- Will Self, How The Dead Live.





POST SCRIPT
I'm reserving this for my grave stone.

Addiktion #7 - Mind is a razorblade.

Sharing different heart beats in one night...

Bit of a blast from the past.
Never gets old, though Fever Ray has taken it all that step further/darker/deeper. And now the flashbacks of Bestival delirium set in. Madness. <3

Have I got News for you?

Last week, the lovely little man, Andy Hamilton (who appears to have no neck, but an impressive beard), made a very poignant comment on Britain's Political situation when he said

"Basically, what he[Cameron] is doing  is he's using the Lib Dems as a human shield. That's what you're looking at -it's not a coalition, it's a hostage situation."

Hear, hear!

Addiktion #6 - Wild Nothings.

My best girl, Husky J, just sent me this little gem on Spotify. Very lovely, very fresh. Or am I behind the times? Late in the game?

I kinda hope not, it's always nice to feel like you were "one of the first" fans with a band like this, isn't it?

Either way, I think I've fallen in love with Wild Nothing, just from one song. Perfect accompaniment to continued rainfall, a mug of tepid Earl Grey, and an ever freezing bedroom (we practice the classic student trick of avoiding the boiler, thus bills, like the plague).


So, catch on - unless that's my job...

Fragment #1

'The sky is blue and righteous in every direction. The sun is total and burning and just right there in front.
We're on top of the clouds, and this is a beautiful day forever.'




- Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor.

Addiktion #5 - All of life's secrets.

Here is the perfect selection of noises for a rainy train journey after a shift that began far too early this morning.

Sheer beauty.

Addiktion #4 - Everything in its right place.

"What? What's that you tried to say?"

I've posted this with a particular purpose - to remind myself that a couple of little rats that keep cropping up from my past are in my past for a reason.




Everything is in its right place.
Now, leave it, love. You'll never say enough.

A nonsensical letter to Urban Outfitters - The Shoes.

Isn't it predictable of me to admit I love Urban Outfitters?
 

Dear UO,

Today, I purchased The Shoes of my life. The Ones I've wanted for nearly THREE months now. They have, to be blunt and childish, MADE MY LIFE.

Annoyingly they're not on the website any more, meaning I can't find a decent picture of them to post - but perhaps that's a blessing in disguise as they're the kind of shoes that will break hearts when unobtainable, they're that good.

They are black ankle boots. Suede. High. Chunky. Mahogany. Fat. Incredible. Sensual. And, to be literal, hoof like. UO and Boy London, you have made my year in footwear. And ensured a permanent strut across campus ;)

So for these, I thank you. Already, with only one 10 minute strut down Digbeth High Street in the rain, they have proven themselves the ultimate cure for any future bad mood, headache, outfit crisis, strop or encounter with The Undesirables.
So again, many thanks.

Until Pay Day, my sweet...

Adieu
<3
I don't give a shit.

Guilty Pleasure #2 - This is the part where your...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2egOGzla5WA


For Nana dogg, innit <3
(who had little bit of a crush on the beast, if only for nostalgia's sake..)

Smokin'.

So this morning I had a doctor's appointment, one I hadn't previously been treated by, and despite being there for a variety of minor things (I often worry I'm a hypochondriac), the main thing I went away with was: YOU NEED TO QUIT SMOKING, NOW. IT WILL KILL YOU SOONER RATHER THAN LATER. YOU ARE A FOOL.

Pretty standard politically correct medical advice right there... But then, fuck it.

I know the risks. And, as pretty much ANY smoker will tell you, no matter how many scary images and horror stories you see in the paper, with the word CANCER blasted about everywhere, I won't quit until I want to. It's a fool's habit, I know that, so do you, but sometimes there is nothing better that long-awaited niccy rush after an extravagant Nandos binge.
I don't need another lecture. Anti smoking propaganda and health warnings don't work.
I'll get over how cool they look eventually. Promise ;)

But this doctor's advice, where she described it as stupid and dangerous, made me think about the ways in which cigarette and tobacco brands are perceived by us all. There's certainly a subtle judgement made by fellow smokers - whether you've splashed out on a 20 pack of Marlborough Golds, only smoke Lucky Strike Reds, or are dragging on Cutters Choice Rollie's, it says something about you. There is definitely a latent sense of hierarchy present in every designated smoking area in the country - whether this is left unsaid or openly discussed, your fag can (if desired) be interpreted as a form of status symbol in modern culture.

Just now, I Wikipedia-ed a couple of my preferred cigarette brands - which include Camel Blues, Golden Virgina with slim filters and licorice Rizla; when feeling super indulgent, I splurge out and purchase Vanilla Black Devils.
From this pathetic attempt at 'contextual research', I have learnt that Golden Virginia is produced in my home town, Nottingham. This is quite a cute little fact for me, along with the knowledge that my much-loved uncle, was in his youth, randomly spotted in the street by some excitable ad men and cast as the billboard model and face of the brand!
I gotta represent the family history, right? Or is it wrong for me to feel sentimental about a world-wide money-minded, soul-destroying, cancer-promoting tobacco company?
Answers on the back of a post card please...

POST SCRIPT
In no way are the above views expressed by anyone but Me, I don't claim to be at all representative of other smokers, tobacco companies or related parties. I also have no intention to encourage the habit, nor to promote a positive view of smoking. In fact, I recommend no one to start smoking, I encourage any smoker to quit, and I'm well aware that I should. I spent the first 18 years of my life DESPISING the habit - the above is just an expression of my personal view of a smokers' mentality, as a smoker. Please don't take offence, or, take it up on yourself to lecture me on it. I get it, I just don't care enough right now. 

Guilty Pleasure #1 - Xfactor, turn your swag on.

I'll admit straight up that I'm a BIG Xfactor fan. It's not even in a kinda embarassed, ironic way.

I just really enjoy the way the show is put together, the production and the range of emerging talent and failures that are showcased, etc, etc. As much as Simon Cowell is villified for his influence on our British music industry, the effect of the show, and the diversity in the acts each year, absolutely fascinating to watch - whether we love or hate them.


This year, any Xfactor fan will tell agree that the standard has never, ever been higher. There has never been a collection of actual real-life future music artists so impressive, original and "out there". Watch this space for ravings about my future pop heroes, and, taking from one of the Live Show's themes, my cringe-worthy guilty pleasures...

 As far as I'm concerned, Cher Lloyd is straight up AMAZING, and in the words of many, not a "One Trick Pony".
I'm aware that this is a pretty out of date topic now (and just this weekend she switched up her "style" completely); but below you can just see that this damn cool 16 year old girl walked straight in and shook up the entire foundation of what Xfactor is about as a modern pop-culture phenomenon. Natural born talent.

Watch out Cheryl, there's some real talent staring you right in the face.

Addiktion #3 - An ode to the various alcoholics, Big Issue Men and skint students amongst us.

If I share wit' you my story, would you share your dollar wit' me?

POST SCRIPT
Tragic, innit. <3

What not to aim for.

Morose. [muh-rohs] adjective -
1. gloomily or sullenly ill-humored, as a person or mood.
2. characterized by or expressing gloom.

Addiktion #2 - No one.

One of my ultimate love songs/anthems of the year. Fucking genius.




POST SCRIPT
Good mornin' Gov' ;)

Crush #1 - Good News.

I am well in love with Russell Howard.
What a fucking lovely man. Brightens up my day every time, especially his show Russell Howard's Good News.
UTTER BABE. BE MINE. WE WILL HAVE A MILLION CATS JUST LIKE THIS.

Addiktion #1 - Trust your instincts.

The successful part of me has died several times
And still, I dance for you...




POST SCRIPT
(please, don't break it.)

'iyerrrr.

My intention with this blog was really to create a complete nothing in which I can express personal, or general, streams of consciousness - whether coherent, relevant, self indulgent, interesting, or otherwise. 
All the darlings in my life are constantly subjected to my fancies whether trivial or huge. This has become the basis of most of my friendships, shared passions and shallow but I wanted to create some casual record of my whims, even if only for myself. I anticipate sporadic posts, mostly focused on my guilty pleasures and obsessions - which are often laughable and embarassing - such as song addictions, everyday crushes flirted with on public transport, imagined affairs with fashion images, romantic drivels about the wonders of Bret Easton Ellis, or plain and simple enraged rants.


I don't expect you to give a shit. Any of you. But, here I am.
Just another product of British popular culture who's chosen to set up yet another blog, under the illusion/pretence that I'll bother with this long term.
If I'm honest though, I hope it lasts.



POST SCRIPT
American singer-songwriter and full-time babe, Lissie (a much-adored guilty pleasure), wrote a song that says something along the lines of "I got a lot o' lovin'..." which in turn says something about my own ideals and game plan in life - Love and live and Laugh and pass out somewhere comfortable eventually.
However, the version of her song that I've lazily searched for on youtube is something even I find too middle-of-the-road to post due to overproduction; so instead, here I post her surprisingly resonant cover of Metallica's Nothing Else Matters which suits my mood today quite aptly. Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewM29vjE1W4