This weekend One-And-Only-Daniela watched Shakespeare in Love. When trying to work out whether she had seen it before, this was the conversation we had.
One-And-Only-Daniela has been shortened to OAOD
Me: Do you want to watch Shakespeare in Love?
OAOD: No Lisa! I don't want to watch a film where the two people kill themselves at the end. It's depressing.
Me: That's Romeo and Juliet. This is about William Shakespeare... Hence the title.
OAOD: Oh yeah. Okay.
Me: Have you seen it before?
OAOD: I think so... I can't remember.
Me: It's the one where she dresses up as a man to do Shakespeare's plays.
OAOD: (Looks at me in shock) Are you saying that William Shakespeare was really a woman??!!
Me: ... Not William Shakespeare, the woman he falls in love with. Shakespeare was definitely a man.
OAOD: Oh.
Me: You would believe anything I tell you wouldn't you?
OAOD: Probably.
Me: Interesting.
I love having that girl back. She's awesome, even if she claimed that, after I told her the spare glasses were in the dishwasher, she had no idea how to open a dishwasher. This was merely a pretence to get me to get the glass for her but as I had only just gone to the shop for her I wasn't in the mood to wait on her hand and foot so I simply stared at her, stone faced.
"I'll figure it out." She eventually murmured and made her way to my kitchen.
She is also officially my hair colourer and spent two hours making my hair all new and red whilst I educated her mind with introducing her to Fight Club. We watched five movies on Saturday:
The nines (by far one of the best films in the world, please watch if you haven't already).
House Bunny
Fight Club
Make it happen
Shakespeare in love
The night before we had also watched:
Date Movie (I thought I'd bought 'Not another teen movie' I was devastated to see I was wrong).
Burlesque
All in all, celebrating that my DVD wall was up and running was awesome.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 30 January 2012
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
Science field testing is fun.
Heinakroon a couple of months ago provided an answer for those of us who wanted to be left alone whilst commuting on the train. His theory was that if a person was to walk around with a flask of Biohazard waste then people would tend to give them a wide berth. This would be even wider if the said person was to be seen drinking from it. As such he designed a scientific tool to aid this.
Click here for the Heinakroon mug.
This Monday my purchased prototype of this tool arrived in the post and I decided to put the whole theory to the test.
Today was my first day of field testing. I filled my flask with *cough* coffee *cough* and made my way to the train station. Waiting for the train the results were instantaneous.
Not one person approached me. No one attempted to hustle up next to me even though I was in the prime position for where the train doors will be opening. As such, I got on the train first and so was rewarded with a seat. Huzzah!
Whilst sitting on the train I was cast the occasional furtive glance but this was diminished the moment I moved my eyes to theirs. Other than that, there wasn't much of a reaction, although again no one spoke to me for the entire journey.
Once I got on my second train, I had a peaceful journey. There was one person sitting opposite me who seemed a little nervous, however I have no idea as to whether I was the reason for this or whether they had just performed mass murder and were now fleeing from the scene... It's a little hard to tell the difference between the two sometimes.
The highlight for my journey however had to be as I was coming off the second train. A man pushed into me and so I turned to him with the most shocked expression I could muster and hissed "Careful!" at him whilst gesturing towards the sign on my flask. When he looked at me fairly perplexed, I simply shook my head, rolled my eyes, and took a sip from my flask as I walked away. I don't think he'll be bumping into me again in the future. That is what we scientists would call a "positive result."
It has also opened up the possibility of added factors I could feed into this experiment for maximum effect. These factors I have labelled below.
1. Whilst sitting on a train, I should take a sip from the flask. Shortly after my nose starts bleeding, I grab a bloody tissue out of my bag and mutter under my breath "damn it, this always happens."
NB: Find a way of making my nose bleed at will that doesn't include shoving a tomato ketchup sachet up my nostril.
2. Take a sip from the flask then spontaneously slap someone round the face. When they demand why I did such an act, I could throw them an apologetic look and gesture towards the sign on my flask.
3. Along with the flask, walk onto the train in a full Hazmat suit and sit down as if this is the most normal thing in the world.
NB: I will probably need some form of straw like mechanism to be able to drink from my flask on this day given that I will have a complete head mask/hood on. I must ensure that I make a hole big enough to fit this straw through.
4. Orchestrate some form of Shakespearean death scene before taking a sip from this drink. Make it big enough so that people think this has become my last resort and by drinking it I have accepted to choose death.
NB: To include an additional "WTH???" factor to this, choose something trivial to be taking the drink over like leaving the heating on at home and only just realising it.
NB 2: Logistically it is better to do this as I am getting off the train so that I am not expected to lay down pretending to be dead for a 20 minute train journey. Plus it would be really funny if I fell out of the train onto the floor then as the train starts to move off and I have all the passengers' attention, I then get up and walk away as if nothing had happened.
So I will work on implementing these additional factors. In the meantime if anyone has a Hazmat suit I could borrow, I would really appreciate it.
Peace out my lovelies.
Click here for the Heinakroon mug.
This Monday my purchased prototype of this tool arrived in the post and I decided to put the whole theory to the test.
Today was my first day of field testing. I filled my flask with *cough* coffee *cough* and made my way to the train station. Waiting for the train the results were instantaneous.
Not one person approached me. No one attempted to hustle up next to me even though I was in the prime position for where the train doors will be opening. As such, I got on the train first and so was rewarded with a seat. Huzzah!
Whilst sitting on the train I was cast the occasional furtive glance but this was diminished the moment I moved my eyes to theirs. Other than that, there wasn't much of a reaction, although again no one spoke to me for the entire journey.
Once I got on my second train, I had a peaceful journey. There was one person sitting opposite me who seemed a little nervous, however I have no idea as to whether I was the reason for this or whether they had just performed mass murder and were now fleeing from the scene... It's a little hard to tell the difference between the two sometimes.
The highlight for my journey however had to be as I was coming off the second train. A man pushed into me and so I turned to him with the most shocked expression I could muster and hissed "Careful!" at him whilst gesturing towards the sign on my flask. When he looked at me fairly perplexed, I simply shook my head, rolled my eyes, and took a sip from my flask as I walked away. I don't think he'll be bumping into me again in the future. That is what we scientists would call a "positive result."
It has also opened up the possibility of added factors I could feed into this experiment for maximum effect. These factors I have labelled below.
1. Whilst sitting on a train, I should take a sip from the flask. Shortly after my nose starts bleeding, I grab a bloody tissue out of my bag and mutter under my breath "damn it, this always happens."
NB: Find a way of making my nose bleed at will that doesn't include shoving a tomato ketchup sachet up my nostril.
2. Take a sip from the flask then spontaneously slap someone round the face. When they demand why I did such an act, I could throw them an apologetic look and gesture towards the sign on my flask.
3. Along with the flask, walk onto the train in a full Hazmat suit and sit down as if this is the most normal thing in the world.
NB: I will probably need some form of straw like mechanism to be able to drink from my flask on this day given that I will have a complete head mask/hood on. I must ensure that I make a hole big enough to fit this straw through.
4. Orchestrate some form of Shakespearean death scene before taking a sip from this drink. Make it big enough so that people think this has become my last resort and by drinking it I have accepted to choose death.
NB: To include an additional "WTH???" factor to this, choose something trivial to be taking the drink over like leaving the heating on at home and only just realising it.
NB 2: Logistically it is better to do this as I am getting off the train so that I am not expected to lay down pretending to be dead for a 20 minute train journey. Plus it would be really funny if I fell out of the train onto the floor then as the train starts to move off and I have all the passengers' attention, I then get up and walk away as if nothing had happened.
So I will work on implementing these additional factors. In the meantime if anyone has a Hazmat suit I could borrow, I would really appreciate it.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 23 January 2012
My bedroom looks so beautiful I want to hug it until it starts to feel uncomfortable.
Two months after I moved in, I finally got my DVD shelves back so that we could live in a flat that wasn't littered with boxes.
As such, I spent yesterday being a total kick-ass independent woman and assembled the shelves all by myself. After putting together three of the four ceiling high shelves I was mentally congratulating myself for not causing any form of injury to my body... Which was definitely not the case when taking them apart at my last flat. However, just as I was opening the scissors to cut the one of the boxes that had my DVDs in, I nipped my finger (on what I'm not sure as I was holding the handle at the time) and suddenly a gush of blood unlike anything I had ever seen before started flowing from one of my fingers. I'm not kidding, this thing just kept on pouring blood out for about half an hour. As is usual with my body injuries, I was at a complete confusion as to how it had even happened in the first place. When I did it again to the finger next to it, I resigned to the fact that the scissors were faulty and quite clearly out to get me.
Any normal person would have changed scissors at this point but I saw this as a personal challenge. I was not going to let the scissors defeat me. I continued to use them with two fingers wrapped in bloody tissue. I'm pleased to say that I won as the mysterious plastic handles that had previously been trying to bleed me dry did not manage to attack any of my other fingers. So take that kitchen scissors! I totally beat you at your own game!
Also, I used a hammer all afternoon and didn't once smack my thumb with it so I won at that game as well. All round, I was totally winning yesterday.
Of course, due to my complete laziness in life, I do not feel like I'm winning today. My body aches in such a way that should only be reserved for those who have run marathons. Every.muscle.in.my.body.is.screaming.at.me. What's more, it's only just been getting worse as the day goes on.
But on the plus side, I have my wall of DVDs back and I got to enjoy two hours of pure OCD bliss as I alphabetised each and every one of my 300+ DVDs. I'm not going to lie, my bedroom has never looked sexier. Also I was only slightly light headed from the earlier blood loss which was awesome.
My weekend was also pretty awesome because I went to a comedy club with One-And-Only-Daniela on Saturday night and we both laughed heartily. Within five seconds of meeting up with her she had exclaimed "I swear I am going to punch someone in the face in a minute." ... She's not a massive fan of dawdling commuters, apparently they don't recognise her as the centre of the world and have a tendency not to move out of the way instantly when she's walking down the street.
She did continue to threaten violence on people, claiming that people in the Philippines are a lot nicer than those in London. I did slightly fear for my life... Or at least my unbruised face but she refrained from punching me or anyone else... Even the girl who spilt red wine over her fur coat. I had never been prouder of her. She grew up in the slightly ghetto area of Manchester so I try not to be too hard on her as she can't help what he was subject to when she was a kid.
My body is telling me that it wants to sleep and never move again so I'm going to accommodate it and do just that. Until next time...
Peace out my lovelies.
As such, I spent yesterday being a total kick-ass independent woman and assembled the shelves all by myself. After putting together three of the four ceiling high shelves I was mentally congratulating myself for not causing any form of injury to my body... Which was definitely not the case when taking them apart at my last flat. However, just as I was opening the scissors to cut the one of the boxes that had my DVDs in, I nipped my finger (on what I'm not sure as I was holding the handle at the time) and suddenly a gush of blood unlike anything I had ever seen before started flowing from one of my fingers. I'm not kidding, this thing just kept on pouring blood out for about half an hour. As is usual with my body injuries, I was at a complete confusion as to how it had even happened in the first place. When I did it again to the finger next to it, I resigned to the fact that the scissors were faulty and quite clearly out to get me.
Any normal person would have changed scissors at this point but I saw this as a personal challenge. I was not going to let the scissors defeat me. I continued to use them with two fingers wrapped in bloody tissue. I'm pleased to say that I won as the mysterious plastic handles that had previously been trying to bleed me dry did not manage to attack any of my other fingers. So take that kitchen scissors! I totally beat you at your own game!
Also, I used a hammer all afternoon and didn't once smack my thumb with it so I won at that game as well. All round, I was totally winning yesterday.
Of course, due to my complete laziness in life, I do not feel like I'm winning today. My body aches in such a way that should only be reserved for those who have run marathons. Every.muscle.in.my.body.is.screaming.at.me. What's more, it's only just been getting worse as the day goes on.
But on the plus side, I have my wall of DVDs back and I got to enjoy two hours of pure OCD bliss as I alphabetised each and every one of my 300+ DVDs. I'm not going to lie, my bedroom has never looked sexier. Also I was only slightly light headed from the earlier blood loss which was awesome.
My weekend was also pretty awesome because I went to a comedy club with One-And-Only-Daniela on Saturday night and we both laughed heartily. Within five seconds of meeting up with her she had exclaimed "I swear I am going to punch someone in the face in a minute." ... She's not a massive fan of dawdling commuters, apparently they don't recognise her as the centre of the world and have a tendency not to move out of the way instantly when she's walking down the street.
She did continue to threaten violence on people, claiming that people in the Philippines are a lot nicer than those in London. I did slightly fear for my life... Or at least my unbruised face but she refrained from punching me or anyone else... Even the girl who spilt red wine over her fur coat. I had never been prouder of her. She grew up in the slightly ghetto area of Manchester so I try not to be too hard on her as she can't help what he was subject to when she was a kid.
My body is telling me that it wants to sleep and never move again so I'm going to accommodate it and do just that. Until next time...
Peace out my lovelies.
Thursday, 19 January 2012
I have a social what-now?
One-And-Only-Daniela has been in the Philippines for the past month. She came back on Monday and the first thing she seemed to want to do is sort out my social life.
Whilst she's been away I have been spending a lot of weekends not bothering to get out of my pyjamas, however suddenly I am finding myself booking weekend after weekend of social activities... When I say I'm booking these, I mean One-And-Only-Daniela has been leaving me messages telling me that I'm going out and that I need to be at certain places for certain times. This has made me realise that my sole reasons for leaving my flat nowadays are down to work or her. If she's not here, I seem to be incapable of making active plans.
Guys, I can guarantee you that she is reading this and patting herself on the back for being so demanding of my time. She has always liked to think that she is the reason for my existence and it appears that after three years of knowing me, she has finally made this into reality.
An example of this is when I moved into the new flat and I asked her to come and see it, her first question was "Have you put up a picture of me on the walls yet?" When I mentioned that I hadn't quite got round to that yet, she replied with "Well do that and then I'll come round."
I think that she will make me do it. I have spent my entire friendship with her resisting this type of behaviour but I have made the shocking discovery today that she may be winning this manipulation. I'm a little shocked but I have to admit I am also quite impressed, I would never have had her pegged as a genius mastermind.
So due to her, I am now going out on Saturday and organising things into my life that will mean I might finally begin to have things to blog about again.
I have been spending a while wondering why my mating calls have never been able to secure me a date, let alone a relationship and all along I have been in one... With One-And-Only-Daniela.
On this topic, I know I promised you all interesting tales of my Internet dating ventures and I have failed miserably. This is due to not actually being able to come up with any stories to tell you. Not even bad ones! I'm simply far to comfortable with my own insane imagination to actively look for a real life person.
But all is well because One-And-Only-Daniela has taken on this responsibility for me. As such, I am off to the comedy store on Saturday. I do believe that one of the comedians on the list happens to be a fully fledged ginger man so that will be nice for me. Who knows, I may have a tale about my weekend that doesn't have the fact that I put a jumper over my pyjamas as the most exciting thing that happens.
I have missed that girl. I cannot wait for the completely unexpected things that will inevitably fall out of her brain and straight onto these blog pages. Stay posted!
Peace out my lovelies.
Whilst she's been away I have been spending a lot of weekends not bothering to get out of my pyjamas, however suddenly I am finding myself booking weekend after weekend of social activities... When I say I'm booking these, I mean One-And-Only-Daniela has been leaving me messages telling me that I'm going out and that I need to be at certain places for certain times. This has made me realise that my sole reasons for leaving my flat nowadays are down to work or her. If she's not here, I seem to be incapable of making active plans.
Guys, I can guarantee you that she is reading this and patting herself on the back for being so demanding of my time. She has always liked to think that she is the reason for my existence and it appears that after three years of knowing me, she has finally made this into reality.
An example of this is when I moved into the new flat and I asked her to come and see it, her first question was "Have you put up a picture of me on the walls yet?" When I mentioned that I hadn't quite got round to that yet, she replied with "Well do that and then I'll come round."
I think that she will make me do it. I have spent my entire friendship with her resisting this type of behaviour but I have made the shocking discovery today that she may be winning this manipulation. I'm a little shocked but I have to admit I am also quite impressed, I would never have had her pegged as a genius mastermind.
So due to her, I am now going out on Saturday and organising things into my life that will mean I might finally begin to have things to blog about again.
I have been spending a while wondering why my mating calls have never been able to secure me a date, let alone a relationship and all along I have been in one... With One-And-Only-Daniela.
On this topic, I know I promised you all interesting tales of my Internet dating ventures and I have failed miserably. This is due to not actually being able to come up with any stories to tell you. Not even bad ones! I'm simply far to comfortable with my own insane imagination to actively look for a real life person.
But all is well because One-And-Only-Daniela has taken on this responsibility for me. As such, I am off to the comedy store on Saturday. I do believe that one of the comedians on the list happens to be a fully fledged ginger man so that will be nice for me. Who knows, I may have a tale about my weekend that doesn't have the fact that I put a jumper over my pyjamas as the most exciting thing that happens.
I have missed that girl. I cannot wait for the completely unexpected things that will inevitably fall out of her brain and straight onto these blog pages. Stay posted!
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Femininity is pretty awesome... Don't worry I'm not burning any of my bras, this isn't that kind of blog.
Since moving in with Housemate-Anna I have been embracing my feminine self a lot. This week has been no exception. In fact I think I might have taken it to the next level.
It's not that I'm not usually feminine but I naturally gravitate towards the male gender, not in a way that's looking for a prospective mate (my phobias tend to stop me from thinking in that way) but rather because there is an uncomplicated way to how they behave that I find very comforting.
...
I would like to clarify that when I say "uncomplicated" I am by no means implying men are simple, rather as a general rule things seem that little bit more relaxed. Also I realise that there are exceptions to the rule before I am told I am generalising... If
I'm going to be accused of being sexist I like to ensure that I'm trying to be insulting at the time...
An example of what I mean was on Sunday when I found a lump in my armpit. Because I tend to freak out over stupid things and I was naturally feeling emotional at the time I started to feel that familiar anxious feeling as I sat in the house by myself, mainly due to the fact the word 'lump' has been known to equate to that dreaded C word.
Housemate-Anna came home and I told her. She was awesome and supportive and let me irrationally cry which I totally needed, telling me that I should book an appointment with my GP. Younger-Brother-Daniel came on Skype, I told him about my discovery and his reaction was "I wouldn't worry, I hear armpit cancer is really easy to treat nowadays." Both these reactions were totally needed but also a perfect example of the difference I was talking about.
(Just to let you all know, I went to see my GP, the lump doesn't need to be anything I should worry about so no armpit cancer for me.)
Anywho. Since living with Housemate-Anna there have been a plethora of late night girly chats, chick flick watching and trashy magazine reading. I always assumed that being exposed to such a large amount of femininity would cause me to feel weird and uncomfortable but I have found myself embracing this new side. It turns out that I am in fact a woman and I appear to enjoy being one...
On Monday, Housemate-Anna and I hosted for the first time. Two other girlfriends came round and we watched one of the most cheesiest chick flicks I think I have ever been exposed to: "First Daughter."
It had to have been one of the most feminine nights I have been a part of in a long while and it was simply awesome. We oohed and aahed in all the right places. We screamed at the screen when the male lead didn't do what we wanted. We embraced the cheese with both hands and were completely consumed by it. It was awesome.
So with this past month and a half gone I have decided that being feminine is not that bad... One more thing Housemate-Anna can put in her pro list. Hands down best housemate ever.
Peace out my lovelies.
It's not that I'm not usually feminine but I naturally gravitate towards the male gender, not in a way that's looking for a prospective mate (my phobias tend to stop me from thinking in that way) but rather because there is an uncomplicated way to how they behave that I find very comforting.
...
I would like to clarify that when I say "uncomplicated" I am by no means implying men are simple, rather as a general rule things seem that little bit more relaxed. Also I realise that there are exceptions to the rule before I am told I am generalising... If
I'm going to be accused of being sexist I like to ensure that I'm trying to be insulting at the time...
An example of what I mean was on Sunday when I found a lump in my armpit. Because I tend to freak out over stupid things and I was naturally feeling emotional at the time I started to feel that familiar anxious feeling as I sat in the house by myself, mainly due to the fact the word 'lump' has been known to equate to that dreaded C word.
Housemate-Anna came home and I told her. She was awesome and supportive and let me irrationally cry which I totally needed, telling me that I should book an appointment with my GP. Younger-Brother-Daniel came on Skype, I told him about my discovery and his reaction was "I wouldn't worry, I hear armpit cancer is really easy to treat nowadays." Both these reactions were totally needed but also a perfect example of the difference I was talking about.
(Just to let you all know, I went to see my GP, the lump doesn't need to be anything I should worry about so no armpit cancer for me.)
Anywho. Since living with Housemate-Anna there have been a plethora of late night girly chats, chick flick watching and trashy magazine reading. I always assumed that being exposed to such a large amount of femininity would cause me to feel weird and uncomfortable but I have found myself embracing this new side. It turns out that I am in fact a woman and I appear to enjoy being one...
On Monday, Housemate-Anna and I hosted for the first time. Two other girlfriends came round and we watched one of the most cheesiest chick flicks I think I have ever been exposed to: "First Daughter."
It had to have been one of the most feminine nights I have been a part of in a long while and it was simply awesome. We oohed and aahed in all the right places. We screamed at the screen when the male lead didn't do what we wanted. We embraced the cheese with both hands and were completely consumed by it. It was awesome.
So with this past month and a half gone I have decided that being feminine is not that bad... One more thing Housemate-Anna can put in her pro list. Hands down best housemate ever.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 16 January 2012
One of the sorriest excuses for not writing a blog you will have ever heard. You have been warned.
I haven't been around recently. Apologies for that. Lego Harry Potter years 1-4 was made available for the iPhone and it has completely taken over my life.
I wish I had a more valid excuse for my silence other than this but it is simply that petty. Every time I would have normally reached for my phone to write a new blog, Lego Harry Potter has been there staring up at me and asking "why are you putting me second? This is not the way this relationship started and I will not let you defile it by pulling away from me now."
I have tried to explain to it that it was in fact you guys who came first, however I don't know if you know this but the Lego Harry Potter game is a pretty obsessive app. It wasn't having any of it and was insistent that I bow down to its needs which was to complete the game to 100%. This means that I have has to play the same levels repeatedly until I could find all the coins, characters and golden hats available to me.
As it is I have only managed this for years 1-3 so far and still need to find everything in year 4 but my guilt for not speaking to you guys reached such a level that I had to sneakily write you a post. I'm relying on you all not to tell the Harry Potter Lego Game though... That thing knows magic and, as much as I wish I wasn't, I am only a mere muggle... I would not win that fight.
So now you know, I am being held captive by an iPhone game... A lego iPhone game. And I don't even play video games so this has completely screwed with my brain. If you guys know of any way I can escape, my sanity will thank you eternally.
Peace out my lovelies.
I wish I had a more valid excuse for my silence other than this but it is simply that petty. Every time I would have normally reached for my phone to write a new blog, Lego Harry Potter has been there staring up at me and asking "why are you putting me second? This is not the way this relationship started and I will not let you defile it by pulling away from me now."
I have tried to explain to it that it was in fact you guys who came first, however I don't know if you know this but the Lego Harry Potter game is a pretty obsessive app. It wasn't having any of it and was insistent that I bow down to its needs which was to complete the game to 100%. This means that I have has to play the same levels repeatedly until I could find all the coins, characters and golden hats available to me.
As it is I have only managed this for years 1-3 so far and still need to find everything in year 4 but my guilt for not speaking to you guys reached such a level that I had to sneakily write you a post. I'm relying on you all not to tell the Harry Potter Lego Game though... That thing knows magic and, as much as I wish I wasn't, I am only a mere muggle... I would not win that fight.
So now you know, I am being held captive by an iPhone game... A lego iPhone game. And I don't even play video games so this has completely screwed with my brain. If you guys know of any way I can escape, my sanity will thank you eternally.
Peace out my lovelies.
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
My sleep brain is just as bad.
My mother's in the country today so I'm off to spend a couple of hours with her before she disappears on a train.
The thing is, I'm knackered. I seriously OD'ed on the girly night thing with Housemate-Anna last night and neither of us went to bed until about 2am.
This resulted in both of us dragging our arses out of bed this morning at 7am and opening our bedroom doors to face each other, both wearing the same expression on our faces... "It's your fault I'm this tired."
We rarely go into work together as Housemate-Anna was sensible about where she chose to go to work and didn't pick a place that takes an hour and a half to get to. However, today she had to get in early so we both trudged out in the dark, scowling that we had to be up before the sun even bothered to show itself.
The rare train journeys we do get together are usually quite chatty, however either we wasted everything we had to each other last night or we were silently resenting the other for our tired state now, but we were oddly silent this morning.
Things picked up around half nine this morning when I had finished my third cup of double shot coffee and was starting to receive that familiar buzz of being enhanced by an addictive drug.
I have to admit I'm a little nervous to fall asleep tonight. The extremely disturbing dreamworld that I have has been on top form.
Last night was a random one. I dreamt that Meryl Streep acting as Margaret Thatcher went to the same dinner party as me. For some reason she wanted to meet me, I couldn't fathom why until she came up to me and hugged me. Suddenly she smelt exactly like my Grandma and of course that meant that she was my Grandma. It got all emotional and teary from then on, involving me ringing up my whole family to tell them that Grandma was secretly Meryl Streep dressed up as Margaret Thatcher. Most people took my word for it as most dream people tend to believe stuff like that. Some however needed to come and smell Meryl/Margaret themselves to believe it.
Where it gets even more bizarre is that I couldn't tell you what my Grandma smelt like. Except that when I smelt it there was no doubt in my mind. Where did that memory come from? Can a smell be deemed as a memory? Does it have another name? A smellmory perhaps? ...
I bet heinakroon would know.
One thing I do know is that massive poster of Meryl Streep in "Iron Lady" at my train station is screwing with my mind.
Peace out my lovelies.
The thing is, I'm knackered. I seriously OD'ed on the girly night thing with Housemate-Anna last night and neither of us went to bed until about 2am.
This resulted in both of us dragging our arses out of bed this morning at 7am and opening our bedroom doors to face each other, both wearing the same expression on our faces... "It's your fault I'm this tired."
We rarely go into work together as Housemate-Anna was sensible about where she chose to go to work and didn't pick a place that takes an hour and a half to get to. However, today she had to get in early so we both trudged out in the dark, scowling that we had to be up before the sun even bothered to show itself.
The rare train journeys we do get together are usually quite chatty, however either we wasted everything we had to each other last night or we were silently resenting the other for our tired state now, but we were oddly silent this morning.
Things picked up around half nine this morning when I had finished my third cup of double shot coffee and was starting to receive that familiar buzz of being enhanced by an addictive drug.
I have to admit I'm a little nervous to fall asleep tonight. The extremely disturbing dreamworld that I have has been on top form.
Last night was a random one. I dreamt that Meryl Streep acting as Margaret Thatcher went to the same dinner party as me. For some reason she wanted to meet me, I couldn't fathom why until she came up to me and hugged me. Suddenly she smelt exactly like my Grandma and of course that meant that she was my Grandma. It got all emotional and teary from then on, involving me ringing up my whole family to tell them that Grandma was secretly Meryl Streep dressed up as Margaret Thatcher. Most people took my word for it as most dream people tend to believe stuff like that. Some however needed to come and smell Meryl/Margaret themselves to believe it.
Where it gets even more bizarre is that I couldn't tell you what my Grandma smelt like. Except that when I smelt it there was no doubt in my mind. Where did that memory come from? Can a smell be deemed as a memory? Does it have another name? A smellmory perhaps? ...
I bet heinakroon would know.
One thing I do know is that massive poster of Meryl Streep in "Iron Lady" at my train station is screwing with my mind.
Peace out my lovelies.
Thursday, 5 January 2012
New Year Resolutions are pointless so I've made them awesome. You're welcome.
I haven't really done anything particularly new yearish as there are a lot of entertaining blogs that have touched on the topic and I fear I have nothing additional to add.
Having said that, the blog I wrote yesterday about Ed Sheeran gave me an idea for 2012 that I have decided to go ahead and roll with.
I tend to steer clear of New Year Resolutions due to the overwhelming failures they always end up being as I seem to be physically incapable of sticking with anything that is named Resolution. However, with this knowledge of inevitable failure, there comes an almighty freedom... Like I can pick whatever I want for a resolution because the likelihood of success is so small. As such, I have decided to aim high, concentrating not on how long it will be until I fail miserably but rather how amazing it would be if I actually managed to achieve just one of them.
With this thought I would like to present to you 'Lisa's unbelievably unrealistic list of impossible resolutions.'
1. Get Ed Sheeran to write a song about me. (As this was the idea that made me come up with this list, it's only fair that it goes first.)
2. Become fluent in Latin.
3. Get TV footage of me advertising this blog.
4. Learn and perform the entire last dance in Dirty Dancing.
5.Actually buy a couple of spit roasts.
6. Get a multi million pound book deal for my books (actually I'd settle for any book deal).
7. Fly in a spaceship.
8. Convince Andrew Garfield/ Rupert Grint/ Prince Harry that we'd be awesome best friends... Bonus points if I get more than one.
9. Develop a relationship with my own chimpanzee and learn how to speak to each other (like in Rise of the Planet of the Apes... If that is how the end of the world goes down it is going to be useful to have a friend on the inside).
10. Figure out how to transport an object from one place to another... Younger-Brother-Daniel told me the other days that scientists have given up on the idea this will ever be possible because there is no physical way. I refuse to believe this is an acceptable answer. If scientists are stupid enough to give up on the idea then I'll figure it out and be the one to gain millions of pounds in the process.
Okay, that's enough to be getting on with for 2012. Unless anyone else has any other ideas?
Wish me luck!
Peace out my lovelies.
Having said that, the blog I wrote yesterday about Ed Sheeran gave me an idea for 2012 that I have decided to go ahead and roll with.
I tend to steer clear of New Year Resolutions due to the overwhelming failures they always end up being as I seem to be physically incapable of sticking with anything that is named Resolution. However, with this knowledge of inevitable failure, there comes an almighty freedom... Like I can pick whatever I want for a resolution because the likelihood of success is so small. As such, I have decided to aim high, concentrating not on how long it will be until I fail miserably but rather how amazing it would be if I actually managed to achieve just one of them.
With this thought I would like to present to you 'Lisa's unbelievably unrealistic list of impossible resolutions.'
1. Get Ed Sheeran to write a song about me. (As this was the idea that made me come up with this list, it's only fair that it goes first.)
2. Become fluent in Latin.
3. Get TV footage of me advertising this blog.
4. Learn and perform the entire last dance in Dirty Dancing.
5.Actually buy a couple of spit roasts.
6. Get a multi million pound book deal for my books (actually I'd settle for any book deal).
7. Fly in a spaceship.
8. Convince Andrew Garfield/ Rupert Grint/ Prince Harry that we'd be awesome best friends... Bonus points if I get more than one.
9. Develop a relationship with my own chimpanzee and learn how to speak to each other (like in Rise of the Planet of the Apes... If that is how the end of the world goes down it is going to be useful to have a friend on the inside).
10. Figure out how to transport an object from one place to another... Younger-Brother-Daniel told me the other days that scientists have given up on the idea this will ever be possible because there is no physical way. I refuse to believe this is an acceptable answer. If scientists are stupid enough to give up on the idea then I'll figure it out and be the one to gain millions of pounds in the process.
Okay, that's enough to be getting on with for 2012. Unless anyone else has any other ideas?
Wish me luck!
Peace out my lovelies.
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
A post about Ed Sheeran
I bought Ed Sheeran's album today. For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you will be aware of this.
You see earlier, Ed Sheeran's album made me cry... twice. I don't think I have ever cried to a song in my life. And that includes my joint 15th birthday party where I sang "Tell me what makes a man" from Westlife about my ex boyfriend, except I changed the words so that it would be "Tell me what makes a woman want to love you like I do..." and so on and so forth. I was pretty close to crying that night though because I was in love with that boy in a way that 15 year olds can only be which is with all of my heart and my life will never be the same if he doesn't realise and love me too, how do I survive this pain???? HOW?????
You know... the usual.
Anywho, today I was simply sitting at my workplace doing my work as per usual whilst listening to Ed Sheeran. I had only just downloaded it so I was fairly excited. However, I was rather alarmed when I found myself crying during the second song that was on. I was all "What the hell? Why is this happening?" And then I was suddenly in awe of Ed Sheeran because he obviously has magical powers which can extract tears from my stone cold eyes with the power of his words.
There is also an added factor to today that may have helped Ed in his emotion extracting from me... there were woman related hormones involved as well... I might do as heinakroon suggested and just wait a week then try again.
All that being said, I have listened to the album a good few times now and one thing that I can agree on is that Ed Sheeran knows how to write a good song. His lyrics are awesome. As I was coming to this conclusion I was beginning to imagine a world where someone would write a song like that for me. I know it was a little far fetched to imagine that this would be something that would actually happen but I figured 'never know until you try' and I have now asked Ed Sheeran (over twitter) to write me a song because, personally, I can't see a reason why this wouldn't be an awesome idea for both of us.
He hasn't responded as of yet but I'm hopeful. Also, he doesn't know me so how is he going to know what to write? Due to this I will send him a link of this post and end today with a letter for Ed.
Dear Ed Sheeran,
If you're reading this (which is completely possible because although you have 1.1 million followers and, judging by your tweets, are mega busy, I like to believe you're the kind of singer who goes through each and every tweet individually and enjoys the company) then I would like to say Hi. Thanks for showing interest in my question. I appreciate that, in order to get started, you're going to have to find out a few things about me so as to fill out the song so here are some points.
1. I have green eyes and red hair. The red is fake but the eyes are real. Also, I have a room mate who's red hair is really red and very real... I didn't dye my hair to match hers. I just wanted to clarify that because that's what people assume and really it has nothing to do with the fact that her hair is red, it's purely because I like red hair in general. If I'm perfectly honest, that's what drew me to you... that and 'The A Team.' Well done for that song. Good writing.
2. I write a lot. It's not my profession as of yet but as you can see it's obviously something I take seriously because I make sure that it is wasting all of my free time when I could be being productive.
3. I like the colour purple.
4. I'm not very fit... exercise wise. I had to run for a bus today and I very well thought my lungs were going to explode. I worried I might be dying... you'll be pleased to know that I caught the bus I was running for... you know, in case you want a happy story for one of the verses.
5. I have long finger nails... not freakishly long but I was just never one of those people who used to bite her nails... it just never occured to me to start that habit.
6. I'm 5 foot 1... I think, I stopped checking when I turned 12 and realised there was no point anymore.
Okay well that's as much as I can think about right now. I look forward to hearing the final result if you agree with me that this is in no way a complete waste of your time but in fact something that will benefit you immensely in your career.
Let me know what you think.
Love
Lisa
Peace out my lovelies
You see earlier, Ed Sheeran's album made me cry... twice. I don't think I have ever cried to a song in my life. And that includes my joint 15th birthday party where I sang "Tell me what makes a man" from Westlife about my ex boyfriend, except I changed the words so that it would be "Tell me what makes a woman want to love you like I do..." and so on and so forth. I was pretty close to crying that night though because I was in love with that boy in a way that 15 year olds can only be which is with all of my heart and my life will never be the same if he doesn't realise and love me too, how do I survive this pain???? HOW?????
You know... the usual.
Anywho, today I was simply sitting at my workplace doing my work as per usual whilst listening to Ed Sheeran. I had only just downloaded it so I was fairly excited. However, I was rather alarmed when I found myself crying during the second song that was on. I was all "What the hell? Why is this happening?" And then I was suddenly in awe of Ed Sheeran because he obviously has magical powers which can extract tears from my stone cold eyes with the power of his words.
There is also an added factor to today that may have helped Ed in his emotion extracting from me... there were woman related hormones involved as well... I might do as heinakroon suggested and just wait a week then try again.
All that being said, I have listened to the album a good few times now and one thing that I can agree on is that Ed Sheeran knows how to write a good song. His lyrics are awesome. As I was coming to this conclusion I was beginning to imagine a world where someone would write a song like that for me. I know it was a little far fetched to imagine that this would be something that would actually happen but I figured 'never know until you try' and I have now asked Ed Sheeran (over twitter) to write me a song because, personally, I can't see a reason why this wouldn't be an awesome idea for both of us.
He hasn't responded as of yet but I'm hopeful. Also, he doesn't know me so how is he going to know what to write? Due to this I will send him a link of this post and end today with a letter for Ed.
Dear Ed Sheeran,
If you're reading this (which is completely possible because although you have 1.1 million followers and, judging by your tweets, are mega busy, I like to believe you're the kind of singer who goes through each and every tweet individually and enjoys the company) then I would like to say Hi. Thanks for showing interest in my question. I appreciate that, in order to get started, you're going to have to find out a few things about me so as to fill out the song so here are some points.
1. I have green eyes and red hair. The red is fake but the eyes are real. Also, I have a room mate who's red hair is really red and very real... I didn't dye my hair to match hers. I just wanted to clarify that because that's what people assume and really it has nothing to do with the fact that her hair is red, it's purely because I like red hair in general. If I'm perfectly honest, that's what drew me to you... that and 'The A Team.' Well done for that song. Good writing.
2. I write a lot. It's not my profession as of yet but as you can see it's obviously something I take seriously because I make sure that it is wasting all of my free time when I could be being productive.
3. I like the colour purple.
4. I'm not very fit... exercise wise. I had to run for a bus today and I very well thought my lungs were going to explode. I worried I might be dying... you'll be pleased to know that I caught the bus I was running for... you know, in case you want a happy story for one of the verses.
5. I have long finger nails... not freakishly long but I was just never one of those people who used to bite her nails... it just never occured to me to start that habit.
6. I'm 5 foot 1... I think, I stopped checking when I turned 12 and realised there was no point anymore.
Okay well that's as much as I can think about right now. I look forward to hearing the final result if you agree with me that this is in no way a complete waste of your time but in fact something that will benefit you immensely in your career.
Let me know what you think.
Love
Lisa
Peace out my lovelies
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