No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Wednesday, 27 January 2010

Mmmmm Pendulumy....

Have been catching up on 4 days of the Prop 8 trial.  The defence have been making their case, with a mere 2 expert witnesses, though the qualifier 'expert' is debatable, and indeed has been the subject of much scrutiny by the plaintiff's counsel and the court.  Both witnesses have been subjected to voir dire (what you do when you don't think an expert is an expert, or evidence counts as evidence), which happened to none of the plaintiff's witnesses.  Boies has been completely destroying the first of the defence's witnesses, by using the man's own words against him.  When testifying in court, you really really shouldn't make opposing statements within 5 minutes of each other.

Now considering this is a trial about the constitutionality of proposition 8, where the cases largely come down to whether prop 8 harms a minority or repealling it would harm society more, and whether the vote of yes on prop 8 was motivated by prejudices, especially religious ones, the 'expert' clearly doesn't know even the basics:

B: You know Catholic Church’s opinion on homosexuality?

M: Uh…

The second witness, whilst a bit more collected than the first, doesnt fare much better under cross:

Boies. You know that same sex couples are raising children?

DB: Of course!

Boies: Hundreds of thousands?

DB: I don’t know.

Boies: Did you attempt to find out how many?

DB: Yes.

Boies: Approximately how many?

DB: I don’t know.

Hmmm, clearly he didn't attempt that hard then.  This is the problem with the former generation, they don't appreciate how wikipedia can answer any question when you need to do last minute research.

Also, please go read Blackenhorn's testimony.  In direct he is against same-sex marriage, and tentatively for DPs as a compromise, in cross, he is for (note, not even, concedes, he offers the view freely), same sex marriage.  Oh dear....  Personally I think this says it all, bear in mind the guy is testifying in a court of law as an expert witness on a matter of federal import here:

DB: It never occurred to me that everything I would say regarding my views had to be documented...

Blackenhorn just comes across as petulant in all of this, he's constantly avoiding saying a definitive 'yes', 'no', or 'i don't know' to Boies questions, no matter how many times the man rephrases them, and constantly tries to attack the definition of terms in the questioning.  Finally, Boies gets the following out of him:

DB: ...I can’t answer these yes or no. I do know the answers and I can’t answer when you ask that way.

The trial has now substantially finished.  Closing arguements have been postponed until the judge has had time to review the quite frankly massive volume of evidence submitted by both sides, and so we're stuck waiting till February 26th to see any further developments on this.   This translates as a return to my normal ramblings for the next month or so.

In other news, I finally caught up on everything that was getting ahead of me, but that's only because my body crashed from 1900 last night through to 1300 today, thus missing all my lectures and tutorials -_-  Goddammit.

Mood: Meh.  That is all.


Tuesday, 26 January 2010

Dreams aren't perfect: They come true, not free.

I know my blog posts have fallen away from their regular schedule in the last few days.  This is due to me a) being rather busy, and b) being rather depressed. 

In a bid to help b) I watched the last two episodes of Dawson's Creek earlier.  Yes I admit it, I'm a Dawson's Creek fanboy, and I stand on the Jack side of the argument, or Dawson if we're confining it to the traditional two.  Anyway, I don't cry easy, sure I can get choked up, and my empathy often does cause me to, but it takes a lot to get me to cry, however the last episodes of Dawson's Creek can bring it out of me without fail everytime, no matter how many times I see it.  Everytime Jen's on screen in the hospital bed I end up unable to actually see what's going on through the tears and continuing to cry just on the basis of the dialogue.  Her death, and the video she makes are the two hardest points of these to make it through.  But I felt like a good cry would help a little with the depression, and sure enough it has.  Not by much, still feeling the epic pit of apathy and resignation inside me, but at least I don't want to stay in bed for 20 years, or break my fist through another wall anymore.

I think tomorrow night I'll watch Aladdin - which is my ill film and so might make me midly happy for a bit.  I'll reserve Breakfast at Tiffany's - my favourite film, and the one I watch whenever the stress of life is getting to me too much (i end up VERY distraught if I ever can't find the DVD), until a point when I actually have the time to give it its due attention and respect.

I also need to catch up up a few days of prop 8 trial transcripts.  The defence have started making their case now, so there will no doubt be a few so-funny-its-not posts to come at some point.

Mood: Drained, mostly.


Sunday, 24 January 2010

I'm not normal

If you don't want a very very disturbing insight into the kind of things that get me off, best turn away now, and skip reading this post entirely.  Otherwise, welcome to the freakdom that is me.

My flatmate asked me how my night was and where I went when I got up for lunch.  I had to omit certain bits of information for the sake of his sanity.  I went to a clubnight called Crimson, recommended to Joel and I by the amazing woman who runs Edgeplay at Mass in Brixton.  It's a rather expensive (£20 entry fee) fetish night, along the lines of Torture Garden, but pretty much anything goes, which is why the edgeplay woman told us to come in the first place.  Dress code entry, which was fetish/burlesque/medical/uniforms/anything bizzare and out there.  I was in stupidly tight black trousers, my poet shirt, a gold brocade waistcoat which i'd just finished making, and my venetian mask.   Joel wore black trousers, a white shirt, PVC opera gloves, and his cyborg contact.  Seany was in leathers, and Adam was in rubber.

Being our first time, we weren't sure what exactly we'd be let in the door with, 'toys'-wise, so opted for nothing to be safe, but turns out the answer truly is anything goes.    Skipping the usual Collared to attend Crimson, there was a much bigger emphasis on play rather than just socializing with kinky friends.  There was loads of amazing dungeon furniture, violet wands, pinwheels, the standard flogging etc, furries of course,   Joel and Seany got a decent crowd watching them when seany was strapped into what can only be described as a bondage chair with a nipple clamp rack attachment.  I saw a lot more people biting and scratching each other than the solitary couple at Fangtasia the week before.  The crowd was pretty young and varied, there were some very attractive couples there, an amazingly hot boy in a leathery/rubbery kilt, plenty of eye candy all round really, and if that wasn't enough, there were the bits of play to watch - the medical area which had needleplay, and corset piercings happening all night had me captivated; there was a very funky suspension bondage spectacle, which was a lot better and a lot safer than the one performed at Fangtasia, and there was a very convincing rapeplay demo - clothes were actually ripped, there was spitting, biting, kicking, bleeding, and at the end of it all the girl had a huge grin on her face and was laughing hysterically, just before you all get worried.  Certainly not the sort of thing I would have seen at Collared, it would have sent most of them running.  Joel and I were glued to the performance of course :P

Despite being an expensive night, it's definitely one I plan to do again and again, and the consensus from the other 3 was the same.  I just need to build up an array of outfits to actually go in :P  But to sum up, the things you have learnt from this post, are I like biting, scratching, bleeding, sharp pointy things, and rapeplay.  YOu thought I was wierd, but I bet you never would have guessed this weird....

Yes I did just spell that 2 different ways in the same sentence.

Mood: Schleepy, and avoidant of coursework


Friday, 22 January 2010

His patience is wearing thin....

and then haven't even started their round of witnesses yet!

"Judge: ... When might we take a break?

N: The questions about sexual orientation go to our theory of the case so I’ll keep questioning the witness.

Judge: That’s fine, but when might it be a good time to take break?

N: I’d be happy to do that whenever the court wishes.

Judge: Very well, then. Why don’t we do it now?"

Chris is most likely very confused by all this.  For a week now I've been deeply interested, and willing to discuss at length, a case which is intensely and inherently political, and I've even blogged about it.  Normally I abhor any discussion of politics.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not apolitical, I have very strong views, but I have no interest in discussing them.  Every discussion either seems to come to a clash of ideologies with each person trying to convince the other of how great their view is, or all parties spend the time acting incredulous at the actions of politicians, whilst fully conceding they shouldn't be surprised.  I imagine this is along a similar vein to why some people hate talking to others about religion, they find the discussion dull, tedious, and endlessly repetitive.  For me on the other hand, I am phenomenally interested in the anthrolopology, mythology, evolution, personal need, cultutral need, presentation, connection to society, reasons for, and generally everything of religious beliefs, I find them fascinating to discuss with people and find the common ground and the areas where we differ, even with the evangelicals and the scientologists.  I just hate doing the same about politics.  Except occasionally, usually in gay rights issues, or things in the US (so double points to the Prop 8 trial, really) to be honest, where I follow the developments closely and analyze it endlessly.  Like I say, Chris must be very confused, but he's enjoying the rare opportunity to have these discussions with me, usually if he tries I get very frustrated and angry.

This guy argues worse than me

Epic fail here on a part of the adverse witness.  Boies is counsel for the plaintiffs,  Tam was originally a defence counsel, but dropped out, but has been called back by the plaintiffs as a witness.  Boies takes a few short exchanges to pretty much destroy him.  This is after the courtroom has become deathly silent, after Tam has testified that he believes homosexuality leads to paedophilia and the gay agenda is legalize same-sex marriages, then prostitution, then sex with children.

"T: Homosexuals are not minority.

B: How many are there?

T: I am a minority. Minority is based on skin color.

B: How many are there?

T: 2-4% of population.

B: So they are a minority?

T: yes."

Okay so I know this Tam guy is an idiot, but even still, reading the things that he's saying under oath in a court of law, rather than ranting in some book or at some evangelical convention, is pretty harrowing:
"B: ...if same sex marriage passes it will lead to incest, pedophilia and polygamy. Do you agree with that?

T: Yes."

"B: Your paper says that after Netherlands legalized SS marriage, Netheralands legalized incest and polygamy. Do you believe that?

T: Same sex marriage may not have led to legalization of incest and polygamy, but it happened.

B: Who told you that?

T: I found it on the Internet.."

Thankfully, Boies shows him up again:

"T: I believe if marriage is beyond a man and a woman that any person can come to ask for marriage for incest and polygamy. If this is a civil right what would stop anyone from using marriage.

B: Can two siblings become DPs? Can man and girl of young age become DP?

T: No.

B: DPs exclude people of certain age and relationship.

T: Right.

B: You know that?

T: Yes.

B: So you see that DP does not lead to incest.

T: Yes. Oh I see your logic.

B: Yeah, logic."

I change my own clothes thank you very much

I think Chris will probably relate to this one, and this version is so much more palatable than f*cking Katy Perry

They want to cancel the play, or at least, they're threatening to.  This might be something to do with the fact that it's 2 weeks away and the 2 lead roles haven't been cast.  How can you have an Oresteia when you don't have an Orestes?  I don't care what happens at this stage to be honest.  If we don't put on the play it saves me a lot of time and energy.

The QM kids got another taste of the wierdness that is me yesterday.  We were discussing parachutes for our design project, and talking about materials to make the canopy out of and silk is a a nice lightweight strong material that works well, but the french guy had no idea what silk was, and so the group was trying to describe it to him.  About 45 seconds later I suddenly realised, and went "wait a minute, I just happen to have 2 meters of silk in my bag, cause I'm like that", at which point I suddenly whipped out a freshly cut length of cream coloured fabric.  This confused them muchly, why on earth do I just happen to carry silk fabric around with me.  The answer is for the waistcoast I'm recovering for Crimson, and I'd happened to go to soho that morning so still had it with me.  But I still think there were a little freaked out.  At least frenchy knew what silk was from that though.

I haven't read day 8 of the prop 8 trial yet, so there will likely be another post to come.  I can forsee one day a week being very bad for my blog postings, in that I just collapse and sleep for 14 hours having had no sleep the night before, and little during the week otherwise.  For some reason, this is never wednesday night, when I finish uni at 1300 and dont start till 1400 on thursday, but some day when I need to be up early, like I clearly wasn't today.  In fairness to me, I have at least 3 pieces of coursework due every single week this term.  You humanities kids have it easy...

Mood:  Reticent over 1300 play meeting


Thursday, 21 January 2010

More right wing idiocy, rejoice!

So credit for this goes to The Rachel Maddow Show, which if you're not already a massive massive fan of you should be.  Who doesn't want a cynical, mildly abusive, angry left wing lesbian delivering their news every day?

Anyway, turns out there's this joyous website called  The website concerns itself with legislation before the US Congress, and aims to "provides details, status, and basic commentary on legislation pending in Congress that could perpetuate the dangerous trend of criminalizing more and more conduct that is socially and economically beneficial and of punishing Americans for acts they commit"  All sounds well and good, and it's a vaguely good idea, there are several items they identify that are concerned with things like making sure definitions of what constitutes a crime according to the legislature isn't so loose as to be open to abuse by a prosecutor.  It cites the difference between a kid who brings a kitchen knife to school, and the scout who forgot to take his penknife out of his back pocket as a fairly decent example.

However, then it all goes a little wrong...  From their front page, they state: "Criminal law is supposed to be used to redress only that conduct which society thinks deserving of the greatest punishment and moral sanction..." and "trivial conduct is now often punished as a crime."  Now I want you to bear this in mind as we go on, as these aims and definitions are fairly crucial to what follows.

So if you then go look at the legistlature they're keeping their eye on, there's the Noose Hate Crime Act which would prohibit displaying a noose in public “with intent to harass or intimidate any person because of that person’s race, color, religion, or national origin.” Violations would be punishable by criminal fines and imprisonment of up to 2 years.  And granted, someone could accidentaly carry a noose around and get arrested for it  (I hear you arguing, who carries a noose around, but if anyone's gonna do it it would be someone like me), so you can accept that without too many problems, but again, it doesn't stop there....

The National Health Insurance Act would criminalize the disclosure of personally identifiable medical information. Violations would be punishable by criminal fines of up to $50,000 and imprisonment of up to one year.  Now given that America isn't completely sold on Obamacare yetwhilst it's a little bizzare that they consider the selling of personally idenitifable information a trivial matter, maybe they're just being over-zealous in their opposition.

Or maybe not.... The War Profiteering Prevention Act would prohibit schemes to defraud the United States, including those to “materially overvalue[] any good with the intent to defraud the United States,” in connection with contracts to provide goods or services to the United States for overseas missions.  I'm beginning to get a little concerned that they consider war profiteering a "trivial matter" and something which doesn't come under the definition of something "which society thinks deserving of the greatest punishment and moral sanction..."  God bless capitalism I say.

BUT WAIT!  THERE'S MORE!  They are also keeping their eye on Child Labour Safety Act which would increase penalties for the illegal use of child labor. Violations of existing prohibitions in the Fair Labor Standard Act would be punishable by criminal fines of up to $50,000 and imprisonment of up to 6 months per each employee the subject of such a violation. Under current law, violations are punishable by civil penalties of up to $10,000 per child worker. Because Walmart (ok and primark in the UK to be fair) quite like the cheap cost of their child labour fines, and thats only the ones they find out about, mwahahahaha!!!!!!

I probably should have prefaced this all by saying that overciminalized is run by The Heritage Foundation a typical pretty damned right wing think tank, and so perhaps none of this is all that surprising, but usually these kind of things are kept to the secret documents and meetings of groups like The Family (also see more rachel maddow clips on her website in relation to the whole uganda thing, or just google uganda and gay and see the delights that will confront your monitor).  For the record, the initial clip with Rachel Maddow talking about the above, as well as the general support of slave labour practices amongst business groups, see here.

Can you tell I've found the formatting buttons?  Be prepared for increased readability in future.  I can't promise anything about the grammar though...

Music:  Most of this was punctuated by watching other rachel maddow clips, however I just clicked play and Geri Halliwell's Mi Chico Latino came on, so you should all go to listen to that.  Alternatively, go listen to The Baseballs, who are picking up momentum in this country with their rock and roll versions of Umbrella, which you've probably heard somewhere, or Hot and Cold, or a variety of other covers.

Incidently, does anyone else find it really really hard to not spell it umberella nowadays?

It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you.

I mentioned in some depth in a previous post how I was following the federal prop 8 challenge that's currently ongoing. If you are in the least bit legally/politcally/americanly interested, I highly recommend reading the transcripts over at   You could not make this shit up if you tried people.  Turns out the right wing conspiracy does exist.  Today's proceedings concerned some emails between the LDS church (that's mormons, to the untrained), and the original Yes on 8 Campaign.  The following comes from an email between the two parties:

"With respect to Prop. 8 campaign, key talking points will come from campaign, but cautious, strategic, not to take the lead so as to provide plausible deniability or respectable distance so as not to show that church is directly involved..."

Scary stuff.  Understandably, the defence tried their damned hardest to prevent this email being admitted to the evidence.  They objected to just about everything going, the witness, what he was going to testify about, the line of questioning, the admission of the evidence, whether it could even be considered evidence in the first place and then pretty much every question that followed.  The judge was not impressed.

However, the judge is clearly not without a sense of humour.  He gets the quote of the day (which isn't even finished in the US), for the following:

"Mr. Boutrous, there are two suggestions. One is Mr. Thompson’s suggestion for lunch. The other is from this attorney."

Lunch won out on that one...

I'm hoping I've finally worked out how to make links clickable on this thing, which should make it easier for you to follow my random thoughts, and probably makes you more inclined to as it takes less effort.

In other news, I'm considering joining twitter.  Not cause I want to tell people 140 characters about me on a regular basis, this is why facebook became twitterbook.  But there's a lot of people on twitter I'd like to follow and it would make life a lot easier.

And now to go make more tea and carry on hacking into the US Army's kit technical data sheets for my lab project tomorrow.

Mood:  Too much to do, not enough time, too little blogging....


Tuesday, 19 January 2010

A toast to those we love

Don't bother me with your time management issues. As it stands, tomorrow I have 2 tutorials, 2 hours of lectures, an opticians appoitnment, 2 pieces of coursework due in, 2 pieces needing to be done in time for thursday, and at some point I could really do with going to the fabric shops.

And so, quite naturally, I'm blogging.

The play is about 4 weeks away. For those who have spent anytime in the theatre industry, or film or tv for that matter, you'll know there's no such thing as 'part-time'. Especially when you're the fucking producer. That's a 70-odd hour working week to contend with. On top of that, I have to get to my lectures. And do an average of 3 pieces of coursework for each week. And I have labs most days for the next two weeks. I have to do all this whilst contending with some fairly severe insomnia at the moment, which whilst beneficial in the early stages, is slowly becoming more and more detrimental as i become increasingly sleep deprived.

So anyone who complains to me about how they dont have time for x, because they have an essay due, or that they were really tired last night and didn't get around to y, please be prepared for a fairly hostile reaction. On my better days I will throw something in your general direction and walk off. On the worse ones, I'll subject you to a tirade of verbal abuse, whilst simultaneously subjecting you to a tirade of physical abuse too. And not the fun kind of abuse..

I saw vampy last night. For those I don't know, I nickname most of my friends - see - there's boring andrew, el diablo, vampy, alex rower, bblb, crazy jack, cute medic, not-so-hot ricki, and so forth... But anyway, back to vampy. I hadn't seen him in ages, and I certainly hadn't seen him properly in about 3 months. But he was in the area, so I visited, and got a free box of krispy kreme donuts (later donated to the classics dept). There was australian comedy, and drinking, and bizzare late night conversations i'm not at liberty to go into. But the dude is awesome.

In fact, it's something I've noticed recently; pretty much any of the people I actually *care* about spending time with (regardless how much i actually get to do so), I love in some way. I think it's cause I had a giant friend cull about 6 months ago, and so now the only people I bother myself with are people that are either in some way useful to me, or people that I can spend hours and hours with and never get bored.

I love Jme because he could make me laugh even if my parents had just died; I love Tania because she's modest to a criminal level; I love Vampy because of his bizzareness and ability to remain completely unjudgemental about all things with me; I love Joel because I don't need to find the words to explain what's going through my head; I love Graham because he's possibly the only person with any form of psychology training that I actually allow some sort of trust in; I love JP because he constantly makes me question why I'm not doing more to live the life I want instead of just accepting the 9-5 monotony of the modern day; I love Jack because he's insane, and broken, and does all the things even I could never dare to do; and I love Chris because he's stable, and keeps me from going off the many edges I seem to quite easily find myself in front of, and because he sees all the things that I could be; and there are others I haven't mentioned that I still love for a million different things.

And I love all these people because they love me in their own ways, and they accept me for who I am, even at my worst, my most hostile and aggressive, my most unattractive - physically and mentally.

Currently, my 5 people are Chris, Joel, Jack, Seany, and Jme. Sorry Lisa, either Seany or you had to go to make room for Jack and currently Seany doesn't cause me play stress every other day :P

Mood: Feeling the pressure; not quite frazzled, but definitely combusting.


Monday, 18 January 2010

Never let your guard down

Sometimes life throws you a few curveballs. In fact last year consisted of quite a few major ones. When faced with one of these situations, they tend to throw you off balance for a little while, and you cant quite get your head straight. You're permenantly distracted, and major things can pass you by in the meantime. Last night I got a minor curveball. Nothing huge, and I'm not crashing from it or anything, but I was completely unprepared for it, and now I'll probably spend the next few days thinking about little else.

Sometimes it's hard being in love with 2 people. Sure call me greedy, point out how you dont even have one person etc etc, but think about it, 2 people to love means an exponential increase in the amount of hurt and risks that you open yourself up to. And when being with one means you can't be with the other, it gets even more awkward. DOn't get me wrong, I love Chris very much, and he's very understanding of the situation considering, but just cause I get to be with one of the people I love, doesn't mean it hurts any less that I'm not with the other one.

On a lighter note, up till that point, my Sunday was perfectly lovely and lazy. I seem to be sleeping alternate days, which is not good as it just means I'm really tired through the second day as I haven't slept, and then I oversleep through the third. I need to be on holidays again where this isn't a huge issue. Having spent saturday night not sleeping and adjusting my waistcoat back into position after I wore it to Fangtasia so that I can mod it in time for Crimson, I finailly went to bed around 0930 on Sunday morning. 2.5 hours later Joel rings me. I always worry when he rings me, because it happens very rarely. And it's usually to tell me he's lost, or something's wrong. But this time everything was fine, his boy Seany wanted pork scratchings from the pub down my road, so we were all gonna go for pub roast dinner, yeys.

Of course, nothing's ever simple with the 3 of us and it took quite a while for all of us to get to the same place at the same time, by which time they were out of roasts, and they weren't serving pork scratchings anyway that week. Fail. We all enjoyed our notting-hill priced pies/lamb shanks/fish&chips though, amidst games of scrabble and kerplunk. This is possibly the only time I'll be able to say I beat Joel into submission. Though I have to concede that Seany whipped both our asses. But we got back at him by talking about women's parts which made him hide behind his jacket. I'm not sure what's more fun, winding up straights with gay talk, or winding up gays with straight talk. The gays possibly give more theatrical responses, so they might just win that one.

I predict next weekend will either be amazing, and made of pure win, or will consist of epic fail and possibly send me spiraling further down the constant baseline of depression I've been maintaining through these posts. Time shall tell... Until then, crispy bacon baguette for breakfast methinks. If only I had some eggs too... *goes off to raid charlotte's cupboard*

Mood: Distracted and paranoid.


Sunday, 17 January 2010

What's too painful to remember...

Try as I might, I simply can't forget. Annoyingly.

This is gonna be a fairly diva/drama queen/self depricating/etc post, so if you're not in the mood to read such right at the moment, you might wanna skip over it.

Certain songs has personal resonances for me, they do for everyone. For a few songs, some of those for a long time were literal, rather than metaphorical. 2 such songs were 'You belong to me' and 'Fly me to the moon', for the same fairly obvious reasons. I mention these things in this blog, as it concerns a lie I tell to practically everyone, everyday.

I can do a supreme job of disguising my feelings if I want, usually not right when they happen to me, but a week later you'll think I'm perfectly okay again. It's partly my own way of coping, in doing this, I convince myself a lot of the time that the problems aren't there, yes its ostritch like, but it works, until it all flares up again.

I do a dammed good job of fooling everyone that the failed piloting thing, whilst occasionally a bother, is largely something i've come to terms with. It's not. Yes it's eight months down the line, and it might appear as petulant and immature to not have accepted it, and to still be railing against the universe, but I am. It doesn't exactly help that at least once every single week I have to explain to someone why I did a classics degree for the last 3 years.

It's like an extended breakup, it falls in the realm of things you'd rather not think about, because when you do, it hurts. Like hell. For the two months after I failed my medical, I cried most times I thought about it, which was most nights when my mind automatically had nothing else to turn to. 8 months later, thinking about it for any extended period of time still brings me close to doing so, which is saying something, considering the events which have caused me to cry since I was 16 can probably be counted on the fingers of 1, at most 2, hands. Or the toes of 1 or 2 feet, if you prefer. I'm afraid I'm forced to discriminate against quadraplegics, as I don't really have any comparable body part for them.

It always felt like a bit of a bitchslap by the universe when I failed. I had a childhood plagued by health problems, which prevented me from taking part in a lot of activities I otherwise would have done, and got me sent to the psychologists a fair few times, never a good idea, as I have issues with psychologists, I'll discuss this some other time if it comes up. I got through the chronic asthma, which allowed me the ability to go out a reasonable amount without too many issues, though the history of it still kept me out of the RAF. I made the hayfever workable, and found if I didn't spend my summers in the UK, all was fine. And by the time I was 17, various other issues had also gone. Whilst I was by no means an athletic god, I could at least do most things that might take my fancy now, even if I had to train myself up to the demands of it first. I worked hard, earnt money, passed my flight exams, and got my PPL, and spent 4 amazing summers in San Diego.

And then I went to my JAA Class 1, and on the first test, fell one grade short of the boundary line, on something that would never have been picked up before, and there is no known way to fix. Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I even held it together enough to get through the rest of the tests, and I passed every single one of them with flying colours. It wasn't until I was on the train home that I finally lost the superhuman amount of self control I was managing overmyself, and was forced to let go.

And to cap this all off of course, I can still actually fly planes. I can still hold my PPL; I can learn to fly multi engine planes; I can learn to fly at night, in rain, in cloud; I can fly the plane by myself, with no one else around, and telling no one else where I'm going first; I can fly over the ocean; I can even take friends up with me in the plane. I'm just not allowed to get paid for it, and I'm not allowed to fly jet engines. Hell, I'm not even allowed to teach other people how to fly the little planes, I can just fly myself around in them and think about how I wanted to do more.

And the problem that I have, is only present in one eye, and compensated for by the other, so when I use both my eyes, as I tend to most of my everyday, and even abnormal-day life, it's not an issue. But your eyes have to pass individually and together, and I can't do that on my right eye. The fact that this would only ever be a problem if the copilot was incapacitaed, and I had a large piece of metal sticking out of my left eye, at which point I think being one grade below the required standard on my right eye is the least of the plane's problems, is neither here nor there apparently.

To be clear, I don't blame the CAA or anything like that, as a (private) pilot, I more than accept they have to draw the line somewhere, and know and understand the very good reasons there are for drawing the lines where they do. No my acrid hatred of myself and raging anger extends far further than them: to life, the universe, and everything.

And so now I'm stuck wondering what to do with myself for the first time ever in my life, pretty much all other life goals have either been achieved (come out, get bf, etc.), are in the works (i.e. engagement), or are no longer possible (see above). I know a lot of people have this problem, and not to lay on the sob story, but many people haven't fought as hard as I have to find they cant achieve theirs. And I also find myself doing a degree I'm not 100% sure I want to be doing, because I'm not entirely sure I do want to work with planes anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love them, but if working with them will invoke these feelings everyday, I'd rather pick the soul destroying office job, that occurs relatively painlessly, rather than this. Equally, I'm not sure if I'll ever keep up the pilot's license. California, San Diego, and Gillespie, are like my second home. And I really missed not being there this year. But flying little planes for my own enjoyment and an exorborant cost and knowing that's all I'll ever do might not be something I want to confront face to face for a good long while. A little known fact, or in fact not known at all as I never told anyone, is that I almost ended up crying the first time I got on a plane after I failed my medical. Driving past the perimiter fence of heathrow/gatwick/stansted still makes me crash severely for hours afterwards. And seeing a jet go past my bedroom window every 2 minutes all day hardly expedites matters.

Some people ask me why I didn't take the class 1 earlier, so I would have known before I acquired all this useless knowledge (which is a lot, and reminds me of the bitterness in tiny ways every day, i'm my own weather forecaster for instance, i can name all the different types of clouds, and i understand the effects of pressure, altitude and temperature on aeroplane systems far better than most others on my course). My answer to them is firstly, I had no reason to suspect I was ever going to fail it, in fact I went for a regular eyetest back in March, but this isn't something it picks up. And secondly, a JAA initial class one costs £400 - £500, which is a lot of money to find and spend, 3 or 4 months spending allowance in fact, and when you can do the PPL on the medical that costs, why would I have paid for the class 1 sooner than I needed it, when I thought it wouldn't be an issue. And now I can't even fly for fucking ryanair.

If I was taller I'd seriously consider working cabin crew. Less glamorous (and well paid) than a pilot to be sure, but a damn sight closer than working in an engineering design office.

So yes, it hurts. It bothers me. When I should probably just get over myself, and it. But I don't forsee that happening for a long time. But as I said at the start, this is a lie I tell everyone everday, and so when you talk to me tomorrow, I'll probably seem perfectly well adjusted, and in a few weeks, once this post goes past the first page of the blog, it'll go completely out of your head that this is something that bothers me this much. But that's life, as they say.

Mood: Does it really need spelling out? Okay, let's go with, despondant.


N.B. The above cover the fangtasia post as well, I just decided to do them as two separate items due to the different tone and nature of the,

Remember kids: God Hates Fangs

So Fangtasia last night was EPIC. Not as much bitey fun as was promised (though I was restricted on that front anyway - I had a 'no marks rule' as I was being a model for a photography group the next day)

After some delays in picking up the lycan one (dressed as a cowboy, hat and boots an' all) we eventually got back to mine. Joel had wangled his way out of work and came over as he was already way ahead of us on the getting ready (read: gaying it up) part of the evening.

Finding our way to a suitably unmarked backstreet east end warehouse, whose only giveaway was the music thumping out of it late at night, and paying our measly £5 to make it past the door check, we found ourselves in a room full of the young and the beautiful (and some not so much, but hey, we're not allowed to shoot fuglies yet), dressed in the finest burlesque, goth, victoriana, and punk caberet (thank you AP) that camden/primark/a sewing machine would grant them. Soft drinks were cheap, and alcohol was pretty reasonable for a london venue. Cloakroom consisted of a rail and other people's good will at the back of the room, and toilets were those fun kind where its a communal queue with a door that doesn't shut at the other end with someone banging on it telling you they need to get ready for a show in there.

Show-wise, we had vampire bat burlesque, an awesome country/bluegrassy style band, who did a country version of 'its a nice day for a white wedding', which was much to mine and the Lycan's approval, a burlesque show with a lot of knife waving and fake blood profusions, and a suspension bondage thing.

There were some issues, the sound was not the best, they need to learn how to turn on microphones, and everytime the music changed source, it came in at completely the wrong level for the first 10 seconds till they noticed. The suspension bondage was a little cringe inducing if you knew what was going on, the knots were not ideal, the woman had a look of fear and unconfidence whilst doing it, and seemed to be hoping for the best, she got very stuck at one point, and really needed to shave, but the crowd enjoyed it. What was amusing, is that they used part of the aria from Lucia di Lammermoor (which incidently, I'm seeing at some point, yeys). The part the used you'll probably all know better as the diva dance from the fifth element, it's an awesome piece of music, and the version they were using was a goth industrial sounding version of it. And not only that, but they'd used the full techno remix version of it as found in the fifth element, so you got the crazy dancey bit after the actual singing of the italian. I was also muchly impressed that Joel knew the actual opera, rather than just the fifth element source for it. Knife wavey blood spurtey woman also released too much blood at once, making it fairly unrealistic.

And to top the list of issues off, we only saw one person being bitten in the entire night, and that was on the way out. Joel, Naps and I, think we should take over and do the demos, band, and sound respectively :P

That being said... I did call the night epic. THe god hates fangs woman was AMAZIONG, and asked us to accept jesus into our lives. Joel got a sticker out of it, and a pamphlet that told us how dressing vamp would lead us down the same road as drugs and homosexuality. Awesome. She was dressed in a suitably immaculate cream white suit, with pearls and a tight bob hairstyle. Loves it. She inspires me to conduct an impromptu exorcism at the next one with Joel, so the priest and her can get involved too.

Joel completely missed a boy flirting with him, and it has only dawned on him 13 hours later that the girl who introduced her cute gay friend to him, was acting as wingwoman. Never fear though, for he has found the boy on facebook. We were bitching with the two of them over the lack of biting, which says good things about possible interests the boy might have... Joel and I were also suitably taken by the guy who had an entire arms worth of branding on him - says something inviting about his tolerance levels.

If you like the alternative scenes in London, this is a night I strongly recommend; if nothing else it's a mere £5 entry, which is a lot better than Crimson will cost me next month.

Speaking of Crimson, which is next saturday's excursion, I get my contact lenses on wednesday, I have the waistcoat all pinned up, I just need to find some Brocade during the week to recover it with so it coordinates with the venetian mask, and I need to find some new buttons for the shirt as half of them have come off. I love my costume, it's gonna be awesome. And there will be no silly no marking rules for me at Crimson, so I fully intend to come away with a souvenir, or many...

Friday, 15 January 2010

Chris' law aspirations remind me I actually find law interesting. Damn him

Penny Arcade is awesome for those who don't know, though like so many webcomics, there is a certain geek quota prerequisite, however I think you'll all appreciate this gem from them:

"I could only read twenty-six lines of it, by the way - Paradise Lost, I mean - before I was overcome by it, literally short of breath. I'm not using the term "literally" to mean "figuratively," either, as is so often the case. I felt as though a spectral Milton were choking me from beyond the grave. I hope to one day write something so manifold and intricate that it will asphyxiate a person hundreds of years hence."

I'm following the us federal court trial against california's prop 8. It's pretty interesting. For those who don't know, this is yet another attempt to define proposition 8 (banning gay marriage) as unconstituntional, and thus invalid, as it unfairly discriminates on the basis of sexual orientation. Now clearly, anyone with half a brain can read the relevant clause of the constitutions, and the text of the legislature and see that one countermands the other, but this is law, and you have to play the game.

All previous trials on this matter, all the way up to the california supreme court, have thus far failed. This new trial is now an attempt to get it heard at the US supreme court, taking it to the highest possible level. There are several reasons why this case is especially interesting. Firstly, is the plaintiff's counsel; one who defended gore, and one who (more successfully) defended bush in the 2000 election issue over florida's electoral college votes. the bush guy is a well known right winger, and so the whole issue is being billed as 'the conservative case for gay marriage' not all of then are evangelist nutters thank god. Secondly, whilst this case is focused on the constitutionality of proposition 8, and california alone, a ruling on it would be a federal one, and so potentially has far reaching implications for the medium term future of gay marriage fights all over the US.

The case has two main issues - firstly, convicing the court that this is something they should involve themselves in, and rule on even after the issue has gone through both a state ballot (for us english, it went through the equivalent of a referendum - direct democracy decides) and the california supreme court. Secondly, that the text of proposition 8 is discriminatory and unconstitutional, and thus is invalid.

It's the first one that's the really big issue. Personally, I don't expect the supreme court to come back with any ruling yea or naywise, I expect them to come back saying its not our concern, as do many others. THis is for a number of reasons. Firstly, to give a ruling, as I said earlier, would set a precedent that could be used in court battles all over the US, and thus would implicitly send a definitive for or against sentiment from the US Government. Secondly, it's easier for them not to rule on it, they know it's a messy business, they don't want to incur all the flak that would result from the impending fallout on both sides from either decision. Thirdly, giving a decision of any sort, would have a severe impact on DOMA (defence of marriage act - aka the don't ask don't tell policy and other such things), itself a matter that the us supreme court is reluctant to face. If they come back in favour of the plaintiffs in this case, there would be little basis for them arguing any support of DOMA, or indeed any reason why they could avoid ruling on any DOMA case that came to court. If they find in favour of the plaintiffs, it sends a clear message that DOMA will be expected to be around for a fair while, and the Obama administration has stated it wants to see the end of DOMA, they're effectively just waiting for the right time to do it, cause war and economy is too much of a hassle at the moment.

Whatever happens, it's an interesting case to watch unfold. Everyone involved is acutely intelligent, and knows how to phrase their questions, and how to construct their answers. It's a very complex card game, where it's all down to scoring the odd point off your opponent here and there through clever intrigues and methods of formulating your argument. The chief judge, to his credit, spends most of his time telling the defendants to stop pissing about and get on with it. Though there are some less stellar moments of intelligence, as shown by the following:

"Defending counsel: Do you agree that one of the reasons of marriage is that (hopefully) fewer children will be born out of wedlock?

Expert witness: Well, by definition. Because “wedlock” means “out of marriage.”

Defending counsel cross examination fail

For further and a more detailed following of the trial, and an analysis of the strategies, see They're transcribing live, so bear with them, as aside from the efforts of people like this, the courtroom proceedings have otherwise been closed to the general public.

In vaguely related news, the world would be a much better place if every daily news show, and especially political ones, were like The Rachel Maddow Show. I would swap Alanis Morissette for her as god anyday. See the following clip covered in her show, where pat robertson blames the haiti earthquake on their claiming of freedom from slavery. I especially like that he says 'true story' to it

Off to pick up the Lycan from the station. VAMPIRE GLEE!

Bad is good for me.

I should stop absent mindedly chewing on whatever's to hand. Especially when that item is a syringe. With the needle attached. And i've been chewing on it for 5 minutes without realising.

Why on earth do I have a syringe in my room you ask? Actually, I have 6. It's best not to delve any further than that...

Yesterday was kind of an epic fail. FOr one, I completely failed to maintain my record of at least one post a day. Second, the bf came down, cause we were gonna go see one of my favourite bands who are over from the US promoting their new album which launched last week. Except, I am an idiot, and didnt read the email, so assumed the tickets were collect at box office, when in fact they were the special delivery item that's been waiting for me at the post depot for the last 10 days. luckily i realised this before we set off to the gig, but still, epic fail on my part. it did mean an evening with the bf though, even if i was asleep half of it cause i hadn't slept the day before. but thats ok cause the bf likes reading while im curled up asleep next to him. apparently i look cute. *is not convinced of this*

Apparently my friend is in the process of breaking up with his bf. this make it sound like divorce in my head. breaking up has always been a fairly swift, if painful procedure as far as i've been concerned. he makes it sound like there's trial separation, the initial litigation, arbitration, filing the paperwork, and then waiting for it to finalize.

A different friend is apparently 'so so close' to going out with a girl. His official comment on the situation was "Put it this way, so far we've agreed to: dinner, cinema, a play, dancing, this that and the other, and a little bondage " I don't think I need to make any further comment...

it was quite surprising how many people actually made it into my morning thermo lecture on thursday, especially considering it was the first one, which people never usually go to. the lecturer then proceeded to spend an hour telling us exactly how he wasn't going to teach thermo. he also comes out with a lot of americanisms in his lectures, which isn't a problem for me, but people get very confused when he refers to 'community college' and seem to think its another version of high school.

I also had great delight yesterday, by confusing 2 17 year old boys in primark, when I was trying on the women's waistcoats. They multidude of different expressions their faces went through as they tried to process what was going on made it worth fighting my way down oxford street.

Thursday was spent sleeping through the morning (a continuation of the sleep whilst the bf was here the previous night), and a 2 hour thermo lecture, and then off to UCL for classics play shenanigans. You can tell the play is kicking off, as I finished lectures at 1600 today, but didn't get home till 2300 -_- There's still a month of this to go.

Fangtasia tomorrow night though, which means a night spent with Joel, which generally equals automatic win, plus Lycan mode Naps. It's annoying I have to use wound make up to make the blood marks on me, as I have a photoshoot the next day. Believe me; I'd much rather be doing the real thing. And it limits the amount of punishment I can take from Joel too. Sort of. The boy is quite talented in his pain ways. I'm sure he'll find a way to vamp me without leaving marks if necessary.

And now to go plan costumage.

And whilst I'm thinking about it, someone go buy me some vacutainers.

Mood: Insomniacy, but all too aware of the long day and late night tomorrow

Wednesday, 13 January 2010

The definition of terror...

... is writing a letter that is going to be sent to Chris Carey, Michael Crawford, Simon Hornblower, Michael Silk, Mary Beard, Pat Easterling, Robin Lane Fox, Oliver Taplin, Paul Cartledge, Simon Goldhill, and a few Sirs and Dames for good measure, among a whole host of 200 odd others.

For those of you not in the know, I just rattled off possibly the most intimidating collection of classics professors ever assembled in history. And I'm asking them to give me 30 seconds of their precious, precious time to bother to read my letter, which asks them to give a good 3 hours of their time, not including travel, to come watch our pithy production of 2 plays from greek tragedy, which they will know infintely more about than any of the people who have been involved in the production, and will most likely involve Simon Goldhill mouthing the Greek to the actors by rote for the entire performance, despite the fact we're doing ours in translation anyway.

And this letter is coming from the boy who already has a black mark against his name, for turning up to an oxbridge sixth form classics day without a booking, next to one girl in fishnet tights, and another with a hipflask sticking out of her front pocket. When my academic career plummets just as surely as Icarus did to his aquatic demise, and UCL reissue my degree at a 3rd, if they even grant me that high a mark after a mysterious 'adminstrative error', pity me and know that this way lay madness, pain, and dooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom. I shall print the letter on purple paper just to leave no possible margin for error. And if anybody knows where I can get gold embossed envelopes it would be greatly appreciated.

Over & Undersleeping

2 days into the new term and I've already missed a lecture.

I overslept through maths today. Well that's not true, I woke up halfway through it. This is not entirely suprising, as I had no sleep Sunday night as I mentioned in my previous post, and so I crashed out at 2300 completely. But still irritating. Still, best to miss the introductory lecture I guess, and to miss maths where there is no lab I need to find out about.

Doesn't look like I'll be sleeping tonight either. Still I'm being productive and doing play things, I'm about to write an endless number of letters to all the VIPs, lecturers, interested parties etc. On thursday I have to oversee a costumes meeting, and by next week, a lot of the big orders should be processed. It's about 4 weeks to go now, we're on schedule, well we're not we're behind it, but we're ok in terms of time, but at the same time the neuroses are starting to get the better of me and panic me slightly. I'm also acutely aware that I need to stay on top of absolutely everything or indeed, beyond it, uni wise, as the weeks preceding the play, and of it, I will have no spare time whatsoever. And by spare time, I mean the time in which one usually eats and sleeps. I know from experience they become mere luxuries and distant, barely discernible memories to myself and the rest of the production team.

Balanced with this, I don't even have the luxury of skipping lectures this time, as I'm not in the department, or indeed university, doing it, so I shall be going to QMUL bright and early each morning, shooting over to UCL for lunchtime to do shows, get ins, tech runs, etc, debriefing for several hours after each night, going home to plan out the next day and do the work for uni and sort out what went wrong with the previous day, eating pure sugar foods to keep myself going, and then back out to QMUL for more learning the next day. And unlike the UCL people, I don't have the luxury of reading week to crash out with immediately following. No, I have another week of lectures, punctuated by several lab report deadlines, from the labs that will inevitably fall within production week, just to make life a little more interesting than it already will be.

And of course, in all of this, I have to plan something suitably epic for valentines day, as its the 2nd one in 6 years I shall be able to spend with the bf, in fact, the 2nd one in a row. Something is seriously wrong...

In a completely different line of thought, a friend, who got rejected from UCL for medicene, posted on his facebook 'XXXXX is is apparently skittish, socially inept, immature, and inarticulate. Thankyou, UCL interviewers >.>" He then revealed in the comment discussion this is not exactly what they said, but his paranoia reading it like that. So I asked him what exactly they did say. He copied and pasted the feedback to me. And unfortuantely for him, it wasn't his paranoia, they almost did exactly say that. This does not bode well for his continued medical aspirations.

Being truthful here, I have to post something potentially hurtful in the full knowledge he might well read this, but oh well. I am inclined, in relation to the above story, to side with the UCL interviewers. The boy is very intelligent, and has done a lot of extra curricular stuff towards medicene, but he is phenomanlly naiive, with no concept of the real world whatsoever (and I really mean no concept, not the no concept you mean when you talk about oxbridge toffs or the like), and does not have the best people skills. He has also stated, that he would likely turn down an offer from a particular university for medicene, because he doesn't actually want to go there, and just needed an extra place to put on the form. Anybody who says this for such a competitive field is asking for a karmic bitchslap methinks. Which appears to be promptly forthcoming as events turn out.

Don't get me wrong, I have sympathy for the boy, I just have to admit I'm not entirely surprised he's currently facing 2/4 rejections, and a fairly damning set of feedback from the easier of the two interviews.

Mood: Weighing the pros of sugar & tea against the cons of the cold downstairs


Monday, 11 January 2010


Academics come out with the best humour at times.

Today's introductory dynamics lecture was based primarily around train problems. You know the ones; train A leaves london at 80 miles an hour at 1900, train B leaves edinburgh at 100 miles an hour at 1930, where does the horrific crash happen etc... There was even an episode of Sabrina The Teenage Witch based around this, the episode where she (failed initially) to get her Witch's License. So today's lecture provided the following gems.

"You not only have to consider that the banana is moving through space, you have to consider that the banana might be cartwheeling through space." (and yes, this was accompanied by a flying banana hurtling across the room)

"The train going to Scotland doesn't rolly polly down the track 20 times. ... We hope..."

"Plagarism - its not an easy word to say. It's an even harder word to copy!"

I would like at this point to take some extracts from other academics tidbits that I have saved throughout the years.

"This is a world of DEATH! POVERTY! And strange little latin clauses!"

Ovid versus Homer: "Anything you can do, I can do meta."

And for the history afficionados amongst you. Said by a despairing austrian assyrologist after the rather dire turn our seminar had taken: "I tried to become Keith Hopkins but instead I became Oprah Winfrey."

Finally, for Ella and Jack's benefit. Nothing will quite beat 'detumescence'

Today was a fun filled day involving far too much to do and no sleep. For some reason whenever I actually *need* to do things all throughout the following day, my usually already overactive insomnia pattern goes into overdrive, and refuses to allow me any respite at all, usually until 45 minutes before I need to leave the house, at which point it's suddenly perfectly willing to crawl into a bed.

So despite trying to get into uni early, tubes conspired against me, and I was forced into my lecture (the fruits of which are the above). Figuring the other half of it would be equally irrelevant, I completed possibly the fastest AutoCAD design known to the world of first year engineers, taking a mere 45 minutes to find out what the coursework actually was in the first place, draw 3 different views for my project, print it, and hand it in. Then scooting off back to old uni (ie UCL) for a happy clappy production meeting with the theatre. It ended on a story of how someone lost control of their toilet functions in one of the halls lifts last night, which I think tells you just about how well the entire meeting fared overall. And then I had to get over to Angel to go to the studios.

I've had virtually no sex drive for the last week or so, which, as anyone who knows me will recognise, is one of the things that happens after hell has frozen over a good few times first. I can't help it, I have a naturally ludicriously high sex drive. So for me to not be horny is just not something that happens. Sure, I can be ill, passing out from alcohol, or otherwise indisposed at a given point in time to actually having sex, but not looking to get one over, or have one got over me (either's good :P) under the surface of all that? Never happens. So having a complete lack of a sex drive, as well as no sleep the night before, and a busy day rushing all over zone 1 london, had not left me in the best aroused state to show off my first class rating talents to an interview (by which I mean, something VERY casting couch situation) for a very well paying company. On top of this, the porn studio in question, had decided to show on the tv in their reception (you know you're going up in the world when your porn studios start having legal company registrations :P), none other than CBBC Scooby Doo...

Now don't get me wrong, the slightly dimwitted innocent, too clever for his own good blond haired thing that Fred has going on could do something for me. If I thought about it in ways Scooby Doo should never be thought about (I would like to cite Rule #34 at this point). Hell even Daphne has a lot going for her. Especially when being played by SMG. (Seany, or any SB crew reading this for that matter, for once, I do mean the actress, and not the other SMG) ((Everyone else goes off to google what this 'other' SMG might be... or maybe not, maybe my blog is revealing enough that anything they don't understand they realise they really don't want to!)) But anyway, Scooby Doo before going in to discuss the intimate details of your sex life, kinks, habits, positions, roles etc, and then give them the very literal 'moneyshot' - seriously, it was a condition of being paid - makes for a somewhat surreal experience.

I think that's enough oversharing for one night, don't you?


Music: Pop Six Squish Uh-uh Cicero Lipschitz...

A Million Points of Light...

I'm afraid there are no great revelations today. I got up at 1600, and have played computer games most of the day, so my social contact has been rather limited. And I whilst I don't want to go to bed, I really should, as I have to get up early for the first day back at uni, followed by a coursework blitz, then a production meeting, and finally my aforementioned auditionness. Tuesday isn't much better, consisting of more lectures, meeting a friend for coffee and to pick up froot loops, coercing said friend into doing another favour for me, going to buy fake blood from the make up shop in covent garden, and then a contact lens fitting. I do lead an exciting life don't I?

The washing machine has packed in. Water is flooding over the motor and shorting the electrics. Unfortunately the estate agents had no intention of providing us with a washing machine, so the old one was left here with no onus on them to maintain it, so it looks like we'll be facing a repair bill, or buying a new washing machine, or more likely, hiring a new one. Until then, it's all about the handwashing and laundrettes. Luckily I did most of my washing last week, I'm just suffering a shortage of clean towels at the moment.

Fangtasia on Friday this week, yeys. Vampire bloodfetishist themed clubbing win. With Joel and Naps. So it's bound to be a bizzare night. Fun though XD

Mood: Hoping I can do my coursework in under an hour tomorrow as that's all the time I have! :S

Music: Some random shit, followed by a fair bit of trance

Saturday, 9 January 2010

I *am* a very classy girl...

So I need to correct a *slight* omission from my last post.
It's not entirely true that I don't know how I get these guys, what I more meant is I don't know how I get the guys worth writing home about. There are other guys, included in the totals I gave, that come under the heading 'work'. I have no problem with this method of supporting myself, though believe me, its still a job, and still needs time and effort on your part like any self run venture. But how else did you think I was paying my way through a second degree?

Today I saw my besterest friend in the whole wide world (and his girlfriend). I love Jme, and have known him since we were both 3. Like so many things in my life, we make no sense, he is the eternal country farmer bumpkin, I'll forever be a city boy. But we love each other dearly, in a completely straight and manly JD/Turk kind of way. Depsite being a permenant child, more so than most other males that is, he is also the one dragging the rest of us kicking and screaming into the areas of friendship hitherto ascribed to the people your parents call friends. The kind where you see them once or twice a year, you catch up on how the family's doing, how work is going and what you're doing with your lives, how decorating the new kitchen is going. And by pure coincindence, he happened to mention how when surrounded by certain kinds of people (typically country shooting people in this case), your accent, diction, deportment, phrasing and syntax subconsciously and completely changes. This is something Chris will appreciate. We've been talking recently about how having spent the first 10 years of my life in private schools, surrounded by public school cultures, I acquired the public school boy ability to have a perfectly and pleasantly polite conversation with practically anybody about virtually nothing, and at the end, you have no idea where you've actually managed to establish any lasting rapport with that person. Chris, having only come into this sytem upon attending oxford 4 years ago, just finds these kinds of situations and those kinds of people bloody annoying. I, and many others of you who have been through the public schooling system, will no doubt argue that you're always on the lookout for contacts, even ones you hate...

During the course of our day, Jme happened to ask about my barcode, to which I promptly responded that he didn't want to know. For those that really do want to know, carry on reading. The barcode does indeed link to something, it links to me, it is my TSR registration number. I am a 100% owned and collared boy, and damn proud of the fact. Remember people, google is your friend.

Another friend told me to stop avoiding my issues, and face up to them. I argued I had done many times in the past, and that hadn't helped, and besides which, I had another week before I truly had to face them again, so am perfectly content to sulk in the corner for a good few days before then.

I'll be grumpy on my own like I don't care...

Bonus points for the two references.

Mood: Avoidant.


I swear I'm not a whore...

Actually that's already a lie, but either way, I point you in the direction of

I think the straight boy currently sleeping on my sofa feels a little threatened. He considers himself a bit of a player, a ladies man, and to be fair to him, he's an ex abercrombie model, so he's got the looks for it. But during a random conversation this evening, he asked how many people I'd slept with during the summer. The answer is about 30. Compared to his 6. He then proceeded to ask me how many in my lifetime. Having long ago got to the point where you lose track of the count and handle in rough estimates where an extra 10 here or there doesn't really matter, I reckon it's about 150. Far from calling me a slut, he seemed both a) impressed, and b) slightly pertubed that his 40 wasn't actually that big a number comparatively. Another more disturbing (for him) conversation led to me giving him a detailed explanation of needleplay, and what it is I enjoy about having large amounts of pain inflicted on me. I bet he regrets asking me the question that led to that answer now...

I've never really understood my ability to get guys to be honest. For some reason, a lot of guys seem to find me quite hot. Not that I'm complaining, as it means I get to sleep with guys waaaaaaayyyy out of my league, which is hella fun, but I just figure I'm fairly standard looking, nothing wrong but nothing special, but a lot of the gay population of the world seems to figure differently. Maybe it's that I'm small, youthful looking, and, to those who haven't yet spent a whole 5 seconds in my presence, appear quite sweet and corruptable. the boy next door type, only not blond. and just like the ideal boy next door type, i am not corruptable, but in fact fully and wholeheartedly corrupted already, and in fact far more likely to corrupt any of you lot.

At least you all now know how I spent my summer. What's a boy to do when poor and without a job?

Also, I'd like to share the following with you all, cause it's fucking epic and deserves attention. If they release the open source software, I'm so making one this summer.

Moodwise, this song that I'm currently listening to seems particuarly relevant (though without the domestic abuse), and I love this version.

Music: spotify:user:jorgamond:playlist:01YRg3VLXklCCH8GsAZ7uj

Friday, 8 January 2010

The world needs to grow a pair...

Seemingly, very few people can face confrontational situations quite like me. I blame my mother; woe betide the sales girl who pisses her off. A girl named Emily probably spent her new years sorting her way back from Canada having lost her work visa due to my mother. A scene from An Inspector Calls is just waiting to happen anyday now.

But yes, I am not afraid to go into a situation that everyone else is scared of all guns blazing, and come through to the end of it by sheer virtue of the strength of my righteous anger, or unarguable self confidence. Sheer Mindless Enthusiasm in ALL things, my dears.

Where it blags free upgrades, sales discounts, faster delivery of a promised service etc, this is merely a neat perk. In personal relations with people however, the fact that everyone else backs down before me is to my detriment, oddly.

The boyfriend and I have been having issues. Or rather, I've been having issues and he's stuck on the somewhat bewildered receiving and/or ignored end of them all. He mentioned how in these instances, he used to get angry at me because I was being unfair, but that just caused more problems and prolonged the arguement, so he now tries to be a bit more objective. Whilst an honourable trait, I say he never went far enough. I tend to keep things bottled up, and eventually, when I'm pissed off enough, it tends to come out. Those who know me well tend to start conversations by asking me "How are you?" 5 times over in order to get the accurate response. WHen the boyfriend used to get angry, he never got angry enough, he'd get annoyed, i'd get annoyed, everything would start to build up and get uglier and uglier, and then right before the crest of the wave would hit me, he'd back down, or clam up, leaving me fuming, but unable to channel it into actually solving our problems. This is probably because my boyfriend is not a particuarly violent person, and at the levels of anger we're talking, I'm ready to throw things and put one of us in the hospital, so maybe it's for the best, but if you ever do find yourself arguing with me, see how far you can take it, just remember to dodge at the right point.

We haven't called each other in 3 days either. He said he would have called me if he hadn't seen me online, but he's a coward and facebook chat seemed the option with a warmer security blanket. Again, more confrontation needed.

I have the same issues with my flatmates. One of them loves to shit stir, but hates confrontation, so just appears bitchy. I have no problems shit stirring to people's faces, and giving as good as I get when they call me on it.

To date, only one person can defuse me from any given emotional state, but he's known me 20 odd years, so he has a lot of experience, and he's just that kind of person. Less than a handful can stand up to me to the bitter end of any given dispute. You lot probably think I should take a chill pill. I say you should all grow a pair...

Mood: Less angry, mostly frustrated, slightly amused.

Music: Ok Go's new album, which is not on spotify yet, but can be heard on their mypsace if you're interested.

Thursday, 7 January 2010

Screw the rocks, hand me a mace.

You know that card that says boys are stupid, throw rocks at them? Not a good enough solution. There are some days you just want something big heavy and bludgeoning to mush them into a bloody pulp with. Preferably something with big menacing spikes. And barbs.

Boys just don't get things. Girls sometimes don't too, but its well known boys are worse for it. They misunderstand, get the wrong idea, remain oblivious to flashing neon signs advertising what's going on. And then they tell you need to do it like this. So you do. And they completely miss it all over again.

And yes, I'm aware I'm a boy, so all the above applies to me too, I never said it didn't. But I don't piss myself off.

The first major half truth to be revealed. A friend asked what I was auditioning for on Monday. I told her film work. Which is technically true, I just neglected, for her sake, to tell her that its porn film work. And not the first time i've done it either. Hell £150 for an hour and a half audition? Yes please.

I don't think she reads this...

Mood: Looking for something to commit violence against.


Wednesday, 6 January 2010

The Theory....

I've had this theory for a long time. That nobody's world is ever bigger than 5 people. 6 degrees of separation probably works off a similar idea. Your 5 people change throughout your life obviously, and sometimes even on a day to day basis, but these are the people closest to you, the ones you tell all your secrets, the ones who if they ever got together, would probably know everything there is to know about you, the ones who support you and keep you going.

When you're a child, your parents are two of them, as you grow up, it becomes friends from school, later your boss, or a partner of some sort might feature. Some of them will be there for a day, and then disappear off again for a few months, some are more or less permenant fixtures.

Currently my world consists of the boyfriend - Chris, a friend named Joel, one of his boys called Seany, another friend called Lisa, and my best and oldest friend called Jamie, who has his birthday sometime around now.

Think of a friend you know really well, you can apply it to them, it might not be the people they talk to or see most, hell I haven't seen Jme in ages, but there's usually not more than 5 of them. Even where couples are concerned, its usually the case that someone is closer with one than the other, because they knew them first, or because they have more in common.

As my 5 people change throughout the year, I'll try and let you know, you might find it interesting.

Mood: much the same as before, with a bit of depression mixed in.

Thunderbirds are go

A friend beat me to the new years resolution of actually making a blog, so as usual I'm stuck playing second fiddle to her.

A lot of people tell me I should write. Let's get one thing straight: I am NOT a writer. I'm a bittersweet, sardonic, occasionally needlessly cruel boy who dares to do and say a lot of what other people don't a lot of the time. I haven't gone back and reread my posts, and edited them, so if they dont make sense, or if the grammar's incorrect, you'll just have to deal with the fun that is stream of consciousness writing

I guess as its the first post, there should be a little about me section, and an explanation for the premise of this blog, so here goes nothing.

Everybody builds their lives around little white lies. You don't tell your parents where you were till 6am last night, because ultimately, all that matters is you're home and safe, they dont need to know you were taped to a lamppost for 4 hours. You tell your friends you're feeling ill, not that you've caught an STI. Even partners save each other a little grief here and there, because its easier, because its the shorter story, and because ultimately, it stops one more little arguement. (At this juncture, I should probably direct you to

White lies, half truths, not telling the whole story, these things get us through our lives, and whilst everybody denounces them, secretly, we're all grateful for them, because we don't want to know every little detail about people in our lives. So here begins An Experiment In Truth. What happens if I write down the real story? And send the blog to all my friends and family for them to read? Maybe they don't read it, maybe they'd rather not know. Maybe I get a call at 3 in the morning calling me a variety of expletives. And ultimately, by the end of the year, how many friends can I lose and regain over all this.

I don't intend to reveal everything straight away, because mostly, I would like to only be excommunicated by one group of people at a time, not all of you together. But as each issue comes up it will appear here, and you can learn more than you ever wished to know about the things that go through my head. And as I'm ultimately a good person, or so my mother is the only person to ever tell me, you also get a handy dandy tour through my music collection via spotify playlists

Now that's out of the way, we proceed to an all too realistic about me section.

A 22 year old bisexual boy living in Notting Hill, studying for his second degree in Aeronautical Engineering after his plans of become a pilot fell through rather suddenly due to an unexpected visual problem. Engaged to the equivalent of my high school sweetheart, and with him for the last 5 years, but in an open relationship which likes to throw a few curveballs into the mix every once in a while. Possessing of a complete lack of ethics, but a very strong set of personal principles. Disillusioned and bitter, with a side lost in the romantic happy-ever-after world of early twentieth century films. Deceptively small and sweet looking, but just waiting till I can find the appropriate virgin to sacrifice in the dungeon.

Current mood: overcompensating for anger with hyperactivity
Music to write to: