brief rant re: faily tendencies

There are some websites that one must check religiously. Or as close as religiously as a heathen like me can get. There's Grrl+Dog who makes me giggle and commit to craft. There's Vixen Vintage, who is unpretentious and makes me want to work harder on my wardrobe. There's Random Got Beautiful, which inspires me. There's Twitter, which is unhealthy and addictive. There's God Is In The TV Zine, which I love and adore for their NME bashing. There's my very favourite, Etsy, which is hours of fun. And then there's my new very very favourite website, YouAreBeautiful, which I discovered in Berlin and spent hours smiling about.

Thats not really that many personal blogs that I frequent, as they tend to depress me. And Lizzle, bless her lil' cotton socks, is at fault (I lie. I'd have run into this on my own.) The poor dear has a tedious job (almost as tedious as my last one). But she has internet access all day, which means she trolls the blogging world and finds the weirdest and most wonderful things, which she passes on to me.

And then I feel like a terrible entertainer. (because I don't like the word 'blogger' or 'bloggist')
There are girls out there who provide detailed updates of the clothes they wear every day. After a while, they all look the same. Tall, clear skinned and expensively draped, with a camera that makes them look lovely. There are mothers out there who blog about their entire family, and what little squirt has eaten/vomited/destroyed today. There are pages and pages and pages dedicated to those ridiculous 'harem' pants, which I think are proof that the fashion world needs a good lie down.

Anyway, my point is, what do I blog about, really? Originally, this was a blog to track my trip through Europe, which was great in theory but quickly turned into a cesspit of Angst as I realised how dependent I am on certain people (and alsopossiblymyfavouriteteddy.) Then when I came home, it was more about giving me a platform to rant on when things went wrong.....which tends to happen to me a lot. I don't know why. Possibly it's a flaw in the universe.

And now? Now I fear this blog is boring. I keep meaning to put up things I've written about my skirts, but I kind of feel that this is narcissism. And boring? Stuff happens, and I think 'ooh, I should write that down'. But then I think it would probably go over a lot better in the pub, with the lubrication (ergh, that word is gross) of Pimms. And waving my hands around. I'm very vocal. Also the problem with pictures is that I tend to look belligerent and about forty kilos heavier.

I'm beginning to think that perhaps, what this blog really really really needs is fireworks.


Any other ideas?



ALSO. I know I just whined about fashion. BUT. My birthday is in ten days, and yesterday I ran around like a mad thing trying to organise it. On Friday, my mother and I will be going to see Disgrace at the Sydney Film Festival, then cocktails. I'm planning on wearing my year12 formal dress, which is a gorgeous Japanese red silk wrap dress that cost waaaaay too much and has been worn waaaay too little. So yesterday I took it in to be dry cleaned. And then on Saturday, it'll be a gathering of the gaggle of girls I know, hopefully for swing dancing (if I can find somewhere open on Saturday), and then hijinks at the Shakey. For this, I'm having my blue lace Glasgow Dress fixed up so that I can breathe in it!!! And then Sunday I'll be recovering. In my pjs. And then on MONDAY, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!! I'll be at the Sydney Film Festival in the morning, and then in the evening dining with my family at the very posh Wharf Restaurant. In a divine little number thats a total secret, totally awesome and called Wednesday.

As an aside: I really like naming things, it invests them with properties and personifications. Or the opposite. When I was at Mac Uni, there was a girl in my class who shouted all the time, and a boy who wore vests all the time. They were known as Shouty Girl and Vest Boy. I have no idea what their names are to this day.

OH MY UPDATE WITHIN AN UPDATE!!! We're going to be HERE on Saturday. You should come and dance with me. I'll be the one in blue lace from Glasgow.




........oh. And I still check William Beckett's blog. Because I'm a failbot.

spluttering

i feel like i'm always ill. at the moment its a nasty litle head cold, making me sound like a cross between demi moore and a combat elephant. i've been working hard, honest. lots of stuff has been done, i swearz.

but apart from the endless frustration of university (they're letting me into 2nd year next semester, on the condition i tell no one the secret of the empa office starwars saga...oops.) i've been rather cultured. well. if knitting counts. i've learnt how to do a purl stitch, and how to maintain purl stitches! its funny how something so simple makes me feel so wonderful. after a shitty history tutorial, it's nice to know i can sit on the train and knit my way home, and see what it is that i'm creating. Lizzle's mum is going to teach me to crotchet next weekend, and i want to start thinking about making a blanket for my bed. i haven't decided on colours, all i know is i don't want it to look too seventies or hospitally.

Lizzler and I have been busy doing Ladies About Town things. This has included seeing Paris 36, which was charming, going to galleries and nodding in an artsy fashion, taking photos of things, ranting about books, laughing about my Ryan Ross dress, going to the MCA Zine Fair and so on.

We also went to see Samson and Delilah. this film is being touted as "the Australia Baz Lurhman should have made". I'm not quite sure I agree. the film is set in the Northern Territory, and is about two teenagers, Samson and Delilah. it's sort of a love story, but it's more sort of a look at the life of indigenous Australians in remote parts of their country. i found it hard going. there's not a lot of dialog, which i always find frustrating. and things just keep getting worse for poor Delilah. i agree that it's an important film, but i hate the fact that a film seems to need to be difficult for it to be important.

having said that, i'm a little unimpressed by the offerings of the Sydney Film Festival this year. it starts next week, and as an early 21st, my grandmother has given me 20 tickets. the only film i really really want to see is a short film about little dinosaurs who get bullied by a big dinosaur. its a kids film, so does anyone have a child aged 6 or up that i could take?

in between Kissinger (it never ever ends,that book) and Hamlet, i'm reading "HEY NIETZSCHE, LEAVE THEM KIDS ALONE" which is a look at how the emo music genre has its roots in the Romantic movement. the premise was scoffed at by most of the people i suggested it to, but it's really a fascinating read that, so far, seems to be more about what a wanker Lord Byron was than how Gerard Way is out to kill himself and everyone else. despite my previous claims that My Chemical Romance were out to get me, i sort of feel that perhaps what they were really trying to do was befriend me, in their own awkward way. Panic at the Disco, on the other hand, have no excuses. they want me dead, and i have a post all about it coming up as soon as i find my camera cord.

i just realised that my toes were very cold, and from that i conclude that it's bedtime.

literary value

(Apologies for absence of posting, I know you all worry when I don't appear to rant, shout, scream and glower. So here goes.)

I think my being may be made from dirty fish. Or lichen. It's difficult to tell. I dreamed that I attempted to turn in today's english essay but they kept telling me I'd copied Stephen Hawking. I put nutella on my porridge this morning by accident (I thought I was having toast) and golly, was it weird.

I'm finding it very very very bizarre, this whole being stressed by university thing. I think this is because I'm relatively sober this time around - more time is spent shouting at JSTOR (an online literary journal resource thingy) than shouting at the pub. Either I'm doing serious subjects this time that actually require work (pfft, metaphysics) or I've developed a sense of responsibility that has been sorely lacking.

Whatever, at least i'm done with Beloved, by Toni Morrison. I recognise the value of this book to the rewriting of American History, but it drove me barmy. I don't agree with the idea that literature should be difficult in order to be important. Several people have pointed out to me that all Nobel Literature Prize winners are unreadable. It's just snobbery, and I won't put up with it, thank you very much. Just because something is readable, enjoyable doesn't mean it has no literary value. I cite Mr Tolkien as my main influence.

Next on the cards - 14 pages of reading about imperialism in the 1800s, a seminar on Kissinger and an essay on the Middle East that will attempt to make sense as to why they keep blowing one another up. Then theres a history thesis submission followed by 2000 words of metaphysics gibbering followed by the extravaganza my birthday is going to be followed by exams and then it ALL STARTS AGAIN. nggh.

On the bright side, I got my suit pattern and am now hunting for fabric :) and trying to remember to direct debit the Wicked Step Aunt the money I owe her. I also ordered a dress pattern and a knitted hat!

oo! Knitting! this is very exciting! There's a blog called Grrl+Dog, which is wonderful, and she's doing this knitting project I'm involved in. I'm currently on the hunt for any spare/leftover/homeless bits of wool people might have? Let me know.


As for now, I'm off to a lecture on Hamlet by the delightful Prof Madelaine, who looks like a bumblebee.


ps I have left Jarvis, Toya and Betty and am now safely back home. The tinsel still hasn't left Betty's belly as far as I know.

wishes are for fishes

it's my birthday in a month and four days...thus you should all be thinking about what sort of tribute you'll be paying me. i know times are tough, so i may have to forgo asking for the aston martin that i ask for every year. but because i'm busy procrastinating, i've put together a list of stuff that i would love to own. from the ridiculous to the realistic-ish.

A new album from Idlewild
A new album from Editors
A new album from The National
A new album from Voxtrot

Before the Ruin- an album by Roddy Woomble, John McCusker and Kris Drever. (am still kicking myself that I missed them in Edinburgh.)
Caroline Smith and The Goodnight Sleeps album
Riceboy Sleeps debut album (not out till July!)
Lost Channels by Great Lake Swimmers

Patterns! My current obsession is with the 1940s (blame Josef Kanon and IR), and the fashion is one of the best parts (Churchill's hilarity is another)



This is one of many patterns that can be found in my Etsy Favourites. My Wicked Step Aunt was nice enough to let me buy a suit pattern on the weekend, the only problem I'm going to have is deciding what kind of fabric - I'm thinking a tweed would be quite nice.

And every 40's dame needs shoes to go with her outfits.
Another etsy find, from Scottieinacanoe

And to go with all that, I'm hoping Lizzle's mother will teach us how to crochet Cloche hats and envelope clutches!!!


Books! I am so looking forward to the holidays, when I won't have to read anymore Kissinger, Keylor. No more Toni Morrison or Hamlet!! But I would quite like a biography of Samuel Beckett, as well as his collected works. Same goes for e.e.cummings.


I should really go and do my history homework.