Word of the day: Bored.

Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. I so need to mug something, anything.

On the brighter side of things, I have bought the latest Cradle of Filth DVD, Peace Through Superior Firepower. Personally, I really enjoy watching it, unlike Disasterpieces where Corey will always have the same lines to say and it can get abit boring and draggy. Whereas, Dani is a much more interesting and unpredictable subject. The setlist for this DVD is a good mix of songs, with new and really old and classical songs like A Gothic Romance/ 13 Autumns and a Widow/ The Black Godness Rises and also never before played live songs like Mannequin/ Promise of Fever. With all that, a powerful performance is delivered deftly like canons from a panzer. (like the DVD title says Firepower. :)) And I really like the part when Dani narrated some nonsensical ableit interesting and wanton-like verses, going something like this: 'It takes one man to masturbate under the lonely stars... (then i forgot)' before Tortured Soul Asylum blared out.

In all, Hail Cradle of Filth! And Dani too.

So here's my filthy collection, I know it's quite little, but I'm gonna expand it really soon when my ang pows arrive at my pockets.



It's abit dark, pardon me.

Something on my daily life now, I'm a mod once again at SMC forums. So don;t mess with me! Muahaha! Kidding.

And I can't wait to get Stormblast 2005 of Dimmu Borgir's.

Alright, i think i'd better head to Rei's abode now.

See ya! \m/

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Choosy moms choose Jif. And the British Museum.

All hail the witty, talented, and smokin' hot Redlaw!

Across the ocean she brought me the object of my desire, even the Jar of Jif. It's absolutely beautiful. I have already eaten a peanut butter & banana sandwich with it and nearly swooned with the joy of the thing. (Secret confession: I was too cheap to buy Jif back home--I bought Western Family. But hey, if I'm going the contraband route then it might as well be the good stuff. There's no sense smuggling crubbish.)

WR and I took a way-before-the-crack-of-dawn train into London on Saturday. This ended up being more of an adventure than we'd planned, since we sort of didn't get much sleep the night before, on account of we stayed up waaaaaay too late talking an' stuff.

(Side note: I used to be the Curfew Enforcer for my dating friends/savvymom. And I was great at it, I think. Sure, maybe Savvymom and Amyjane hated me and kept voodoo dolls of me in their bedrooms, but that was my job. So I did it. And they both got married in the temple. So there you go. Now I find myself in desperate need of a Curfew Enforcer, only there is no one I can turn to. I sure can't ask my Self-Discipline or my Better Judgement to step up, because it turns out they're off on a cruise together somewhere, drinking pina coladas on the deck.)

In short, I may or may not include pictures of the outing. We both looked pretty hammered. Redlaw (who is everything delightful and sassy) was kind enough not to ask if the train actually ran the both of us down before picking us up.

The other thing you should know about Saturday was that it was freezing cold and windy. We made it to the British Museum, where I stared all open-mouthed at the new covered courtyard. (Note: I did not take this pic, but stole it from the Internet. But really, what are they going to do about it?)

The Museum and shops were mercifully open before the exhibits opened at 10am, so we killed some time in the gift shop. WR found a Latin book that tells you how to say useful 21st-century things like "Your mom is fat cow," which caused him no end of delight.

Once the exhibits were open we checked out the Egyptian stuff and the Elgin marbles, which I'd never seen before because I am lame. I felt slightly better when I could explain what the Rosetta Stone was. Then we hit the newly renovated Reading Room so that I could look at the books and so WR could put his head down at a desk and fall asleep.

It was so cool in there that I had to take a picture. The dome is bigger than the one at St. Paul's!

We had just enough time after the museum to walk across the Thames to see the view of the Houses of Parliament (my favorite view) before heading up to Trafalgar Square to meet Redlaw and her two friends. I only almost walked up to 3 different redheads before I recognized her from the picture she'd sent me. And yes, she's just as funny and cool in real life as she is in her blog. We all escaped the bitter bitter cold together and had lunch/dinner in a pub. I of course can't speak for her, but I had a great time. I particularly liked the part when Redlaw's two friends asked how she and I knew each other if we were just now meeting for the first time. Hee hee. It's kind of like having to explain to people that you met your bf online.

So yes, it was a good day. I got to visit my favorite city and spend all day with WR, and I got to meet someone I admire to pieces, and I got American peanut butter. Could a day really get any better?

Here's that pic from the pub, then. And don't start with the pink comments--it's the only sweater I have. Also, check out the cute dimples on WR!

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I'm British. We only show affection to dogs and horses.

Conversation that happened the other night at my house, just after Lady J's cat ran away in terror from WR, on account of she is scared of the menfolk.

Me: Sorry the cat's is scared of you.

WR: Enh, it doesn't bother me. (whispers) I'm actually allergic to cats!

Me: Oh, that's too bad. Like severely allergic?

WR: No, I just sneeze and stuff.

Me: Well, that's okay, because I'm not a huge cat fan anyw--Wait. What about dogs?

WR: Huh?

Me: Are you allergic to dogs?

WR: I dunno, does it matter?

Me: Answer the question!

WR: Well, I probably am if I'm allergic to cats, right? Doesn't it work that way?

Me: No. No, it doesn't work that way. You can be allergic to cats and not dogs. My sister is allergic to cats and not dogs. So I bet you're fine.

WR: Um . . . I'm getting the feeling here that you really like dogs.

Me: Of course I do, everyone does! Don't you?

(That's when he got quiet and started looking around the room, as if for something to distract me.)

Me: Don't you?

See, here's the thing. In my book there are two kinds of people:
1) Those who like dogs
2) Those who kill puppies and are without love or natural affections

Me: Oh my gosh you hate dogs!!!

WR: I don't hate dogs!

Me: But would you ever own a dog?

WR: (proceeds to make grimaces that involves his entire face and torso)

WR: Would I have to have a dog? I mean, they're just so loud, and hairy, and they're so much work! I just don't see what's so great about them.

Me: (gasp) I can't even believe I'm hearing this! You're British and you hate dogs??

WR: What, is this like a deal-breaker for you or something?

Me: I haven't decided yet!

WR: What if you had a robotic dog? A robotic dog could be quite nice.

Me: Don't even speak to me, you dog killer.

So after much prayer and fasting, I have decided not to let this be a deal-breaker. I mean, as awful as this is, I'm sure there are much, much worse things to discover about someone you're dating. Also, I think the reason WR doesn't like dogs is that he's never been friends with any. If he had, he would know.

There's time yet for that.

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Something to add to your food storage list

So today I was in the Relief Society class, minding my own business. For the non-LDS friends out there, that's one class in our block of Sunday meetings that is specifically for the ladies. We have the same lesson the menfolk do in their class, although we have things like pretty centerpieces and object lessons and gentle laughter in ours, whereas the men probably light fires and swap camping stories or whatever it is they do in theirs. The kids are off having their own classes as well. Then we all meet back up for the rest of the services, otherwise the Engaged People and Newlyweds might just spontaniously combust and die from loneliness.

Anyway.

The lesson was about spiritual and temporal preparation, so a big part of the discussion centered around emergency preparedness and food storage and 72-hour-kits and things like that. I heard lots of the usual things, like "Be sure to remember toothbrushes in your emergency storage, because otherwise that's just nasty" and "Turns out flour doesn't keep for as long as I thought it would back in 1989 when I bought 6 tons of it."

Then, at the very end (the teacher was actually going over on time) one woman raised her hand and said that she tried to be careful who she talked about food storage to, because she doesn't want everyone showing up at her house if something happens and everyone on the street knows that her house is the house with food and toothbrushes.

Then the teacher enthusiastically agreed and said that she knows someone who bought a shotgun to store with his food storage, because when hard times come his neighbors will probably try to kill him for it.

And because the class was already going over, and I hate it when things get out late, I couldn't raise my hand and say what I wanted to say, which was:

A) Sister #1, have you not heard the part where sharing with those in need is kind of a thing that we do? Also, it might be nice, rather than keeping food storage a Mormon Secret, to mention what you're doing and offer to show your neighbors the ropes.
B) Sister #2, does your friend by any chance live in Montana?

So I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to be That American from UTAH Who Thinks She Knows Everything, because let's face it, everyone hates those people. I hate those people too. And as a result everyone spent the last 30 seconds of the lesson adding one more item to the list:

"Shotgun for shooting neighbors."

Because hey, that's what you GET for not planning ahead.

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The world just got dumber.

Extracted from Roadrunner's Blabbermouth:

Rock music that sucked a young man into a world of devil worship and drug use is being mounted as a defence in his trial for murdering his teenaged cousin.

Though two men, 21-year-old Osei Lazare and 28-year-old Marcus Daniel, are charged with the death of 16-year-old Suzette Gibson, the focus of the first day of the trial immediately shifted to Daniel yesterday when the claim was made by his lawyer, Pamela Elder SC.

Several witnesses admitted to her that her client- who was Gibson's cousin- regularly listened to heavy metal music, that his bedroom was decorated with skeletons and that he drank heavily.

Daniel's music collection and tattoos came under scrutiny.

One witness said Daniel listened to artists such as shock rockers Marilyn Manson, Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper and grunge metal bands such as Slipknot and Anthrax.

He also had the tattoo of an upside down cross on one arm- which Elder called the symbol of the Antichrist.

Daniel's friend, Riaz Ali told the jury: "I recall the lyrics of one song. It went 'Devil man, devil man, you got in my head, devil man, devil man... right in my heart"."

Ali said he saw Daniel with a cut on his hand on the night Gibson disappeared and Daniel told him he got the wound from playing "knife games" with "those guys from Westmoorings".

Justice Herbert Volney is presiding over the trial in the Port of Spain First Criminal Court.

State attorney Alexander Prince is prosecuting, while Owen Hinds Jr is appearing with Elder for Daniel and Israel Khan SC and Dawn Mohan represent Lazare.

Gibson's father, Alvin Gibson, is a police constable and lived at Calvary Hill, Covigne Road, Diego Martin.

He worked at the Port of Spain Traffic and Highways branch in January 2002 when his daughter was killed.

He said he came home around 7 p.m. on January 23, 2002 and left in search of her around 11 p.m. that night when the Form Two student of the Mucurapo Junior Secondary School did not return from dance class.

He said he went to Daniel's home at Brunton Avenue, Diego Martin, and met him there with Lazare, and asked for Daniel's car to go look for Suzette.

He said he noticed the cut on Daniel's hand, and Daniel told him he got it during an argument with an unknown man by a phone booth that afternoon.


Damn those gullible so-called metalheads and wannabes.

Also from blabbermouth:

CRADLE OF FILTH frontman Dani Filth has offered the following studio update via the band's official web site:

"Dear loyal readership, friends and would-be English metal journalists,
The time has come once again to update your good selves on the activities and nocturnal emissions of the band as we approach our fourth week here at The Chapel studios in the pounding verdant heart of Lincolnshire.

"Well, firstly, before I continue with matters of the band, my girlfriend of fourteen years, Toni, and I were married on Hallowe'en in our hometown of Ipswich with a few close friends and our daughter Luna present. My mother, having left for India that very same day, obviously couldn't be there, so we felt it best that our vastly extended families should be told about it after the fact and in the better interests of sibling harmony. The day itself was supplemented with copious amounts of champagne, a posh lunch and a three-hour limo ride to a pre-planned Hallowe'en party that carried on right through to the next day somewhere in the bonfire-lit depths of Norfolk. Our celebrations will then have to abate until the 28th (which is Toni's birthday and fortuitously also the last date of the studio before the tour) and then until we get to our house in India for the Xmas break (I'd like to see Santa get down that fucking chimney!). So that's that, we're officially Mr and Mrs Filth until death do us prat, sorry, part.

"Right, back onto the bloody album then.

"Thus far the drums have been recorded, along with the bass, for the entirety of the record and are sounding great, although a small problem did arise at one point when Adrian [Erlandsson, drums] noticed that he'd been recording with a cracked cymbal. This was no small problem to correct as it meant having to re-record several tracks again, but record them he did and probably more to his and our satisfaction. Vocals are well underway by a few weeks and are going well despite having to slot them around drum editing, but at least they're underway. Our first mission was to finish our version of SAMHAIN's 'Hallowe'en II' for the forthcoming 'Underworld 2' soundtrack, a song that originally was to feature original vocalist Glenn Danzig way back on the 'Nymphetamine' session but fortunately stayed its ground unfinished. It may surprise a few people to know that this song is probably the first CRADLE song to feature clean vocals from myself, albeit just the chorus parts, but don't expect an emo ballad by any means, this is still a C.O.F. rendition after all!

"Other news is that a local plebian small town journalist looking to further his mundane existence chose to try and pursue a story about our studio being a hotbed of drugs and vice recently, which, despite the odd wife coming up for the weekends, is hardly that, well certainly not outside of the bedroom. Since last time I wrote, matters on the drugs front diminished immediately after it was revealed that the studio owner runs a totally dry ship when it comes to anything other than booze and even makes people stand outside for cigarettes, which as you can imagine doesn't go down too well with certain binge-skagging members at all. But in order to keep things on an even keel, people have kept to the rules albeit with some hardship, especially when Miss Moss popped in to say hello on her way back from working abroad last week, without the plum. Bless her.

"Live-wise the forthcoming tour British tour is being rehearsed for in-between sessions and our replacement keyboardist Rosie is filling in Martin's shoes with aplomb. Most dates are heading for sell-out, the first warm-up show in Colchester having gone at the back end of last week, with London, Manchester and possibly Glasgow going in the very near future. So grab your tickets soon folks, they're going fast and furiously. Honest!

"There definitely is an air of trepidation building in the studio as the tour creeps up on the band, everybody being eager to flip the coin onto the other side in regards to getting out there and fucking things up live (as opposed to fucking things up in the studio and flipping each other the finger!). The sudden, radical change in surroundings should certainly get the adrenaline pumping, especially with a new stage show and set list at hand and playing places that we've never ventured to up until now, like Newcastle, Southampton and Cardiff.

"Of the other two covers, there is news. We have decided to undertake the following tracks.... 'Stay' by SHAKESPEARE'S SISTER, which will be see Liv Kristine again sharing vocal duties and 'Temptation' by Eighties new wavers HEAVEN 17, which will also see Harry (formerly of 'DIRTY HARRY') guest. These songs were chosen mainly for their challenge rather than their gay icon status and the need to tackle other more predictable cover versions... these things breaking up the studio session like a breath of foetid air when they're attacked with a certain flair of creativity. Well, that's the band fucked then!

"As for the rest of the album it is hard to say how songs like 'Libertina Grimm', 'Tonight In Flames' or 'Cemetery And Sundown' will fan out, this being the culmination of the first studio session, with only the bare bones in place at the moment. On our eventual return, with more vocals being addressed and the guitars underway, we should start seeing the light behind the darkness and the songs finally rising into some distinguishable, though rancid life.

"As for other things, the food is still impeccable and the weather freezing, the pub down the road still being our only real vice (we won the pub quiz there last weekend though... ) bar a few visits mid-mornings to local towns for random shopping trips. Rob [Caggiano] the producer is slowly recovering from his illness, i think the parasite has snaked out of his arse and slipped along the corridor to someone else's room much like a scene from the first 'Alien' movie. He still is unable to drink alcohol at the moment though, a sorry state of affairs that finds him clawing at the woodwork like a rabid hamster when the booze is broken out and the moon risen full.

"There have been the usual strange happenings here in true C.O.F. fashion, as in possessions disappearing for days on end and some more freak guitar stuff happening (yes, the bass cab caught on fire once again!) but for the most of it the gremlins have let us be. Engineer Dan Turner (aka 'Hot Lips', 'Nun Trader' and 'Dan Syndrome') has yet to complete his studio challenge this time around, which involves donning a builder's hard hat, tight leather hot pants, shaving his legs, wearing an over-stretched skinny girl's C.O.F. shirt and then proceeding to ask the builders working on studio three whether they have any cracks that desperately need filling. So a shovel through his head then it is for the next DVD!

"Incidentally the current DVD, 'Peace Through Superior Firepower', is now in stores and the track from the live show, 'From The Cradle To Enslave', is hitting the airwaves to coincide in time with its release. A small film crew is coming out on these British dates with us in order to capture the event for a possible forthcoming documentary and there is also the possibility of teaming up with the porn director Michael Ninn and everybody's favourite troublemaker Bam 'The Patron Saint Of Finnish Metal' Magera. A live set from the British tour will also be recorded for one side of a forthcoming double live album entitled 'Trouble And Their Double Lives', which should see the light of day at some point late next year. Be varned!

"So much for a quiet time around the studio then. Hope this keeps you up to date for the time being, another slowgress report should reach you by the Xmas period, if not we're either dead or just sitting around hoping to be..."

Alright Dear Dani, sometimes you write too much for one's reading pleasure. This is long and exhaustive post indeed. Yeah, Peace Through Superior Firepower comes next week at Inokii, I'm definitely getting it. Hail Cradle of Filth!

- Heading back to the pit that spawned me,
Ling aka CoFW.

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Happy Thanksgibbing Back!

I won't actually be celebrating Thanksgiving today, sadly. Here's what I have planned:

1. Homework
2. Some more homework
3. Planning a lesson for Sunday School
4. Going in to speak to my prof about the xhtml test only to be told that I actually should have received a lower score than the one I did. Oh, wait, I already did that! He was quite nice about it, though. We agreed to let the "high" score stand, which was big of me. And he agreed that my redone pages look quite good and would have earned me a very nice grade if I'd come up with them in the first place. Sigh . . .
5. Heating up a jar of Tesco curry and a mug of Free Trade hot chocolate for dinner.
6. Sniffling to Josh Groban's Closer, because I am a complete sap. Wait, I think I may be doing that now.

Lest anyone feel too sorry for me, though, I did get a Thanksgiving meal last week. I have pictures and everything!

Shown:
Carrots
Sweetcorn
Mashed potatoes
Balls of what appear to be crubbish but are actually English stuffing (so, you know, you weren't far off)
These roasted potato guys that come frozen in a bag, which I kind of love madly
Broccoli & cauliflower
Stovetop stuffing smuggled into the country by a friend's dad, which tasted like heaven
Schloer, which is the UK equivalent of Martinelli's, only I'm still getting used to the taste

Not shown:
2 roasted chickens
8 quarts of gravy
2 muffin tins of the best Yorkshire puddings I've ever had
3 apple pies & vanilla ice cream, provided by yours truly and the good people at Iceland
Chocolate-chip pumpkin cookies, because it turns out that there is a store in the UK that sells jars of Libby's. I will be going there soon.
Chocolate cake
5 Americans (3 students, 2 missionaries)
Shedloads of Brits

We even went around the room and said 1 thing we were thankful for, which was very nice.

I won't subject you to my whole list right now or anything, since I know too well what vomit does to a keyboard. But I want to say that I am very grateful for my dear friends who stay in touch with me through this blog and emails and phone calls and put up with my rantings. I'm grateful as well for those who have become my friends through blogging, which has been a wonderful surprise. It has really helped a lot as I've tried to find my footing over here in a new place.

Happy Happy Happy Thanksgiving! Please eat a piece of pumpkin pie and take a nap in my honor!

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Oh my gosh, I AM going to flunk out of school!

So forget the part where I thought I was doing well in school. I got my score back from the timed XHTML/CSS test we did a couple of weeks ago and I totally, totally failed. Like, by a lot failed.

I will end up living on the streets of Nottingham in a refrigerator box. Even the cats will shun me. Then I will be shot in the crossfire of gang warfare, which they have in Nottingham. And no one will care.

I guess I'd better go talk to the prof, so that he doesn't think that I'm actually okay with this. It was quite a horrible shock. When I talk to him, maybe it would help to say something like, "Excuse me. You appear to have made a mistake here, because I don't actually fail things. Ask around." Or, you know, maybe I'll go back into the computer lab and follow the directions for the test again (I still have them) to prove that I can do all that stuff, even if I couldn't do it that day.

It's not like I blew the test off or didn't prepare. All he told us to do was be sure we knew how to do the stuff we'd learned in class. And I did! I reviewed all the class exercises and everything! Only in the beginning of the test it turned out that I saved the wrong thing to use as my Doctype. So none of the pages I created were validating and I started getting all worried and spent tons of time trying to figure out what the problem was when I should have just moved ahead. By the time I figured out what I'd done and went in and retyped in the correct Doctype coding, there was only like 15 minutes left to do everything else, and it all went to cr--rubbish. (We only had 50 minutes for the whole test.)

Ugh. I am doomed. Dooooooomed!

I called WR, all despondent and ready to throw myself under a truck. He was very sweet about it. "Well, look at the bright side. This proves you're not a geek." Also he offered to take me to IKEA this week, so that I can look at and touch the pretty things there and eat the Swedish meatballs. It will be a balm for my wounded soul.

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Finally some news from Cradle Camp.

After much wait, Count Filth finally decides to pick up his pen and click his heels together three times six and update us on the latest news of Cradle of Filth. Greato!

So here's it:
Studio update by Dani Filth

Dear all,

Excuse the following exercise in bad grammar, doctrinal expletives and general< buffoonery but i am writing this report from 'The Chapel' studios here in deepest, darkest rural Lincolnshire following a night out at the local pub (the only means of entertainment in the entire region) and a fall into a deep ditch full of water, having partially succeeded in rescuing a drowning football. Suffice to say i awoke this morning having half-laughed myself to death watching the two pseudo-documentaries on our soon-to-released new DVD to find my shoes caked in mud and my pants on the wrong way around (but that's entirely another story).

So far so good in respect to the new album, the producer Rob Caggianno having successfully crossed the Atlantic on what must be his fourth attempt in under a week and the band having been nicely tucked away in their respectful bedrooms, where i would indeed be now if it weren't for the fact that Rob has chosen to put the bass cabs directly beneath me in an attempt to shake all the teeth out of my head.

Incidentally Rob has been rather ill for the last four months with a stomach parasite he ingested from some dodgy food he ate in Mexico. No, the food didn't have Anthrax, but it did have something in it that causes Rob to have to take fifteen different homeopathic tablets three times daily. He actually showed us a picture of the horror he ate as taken by Scott Ian, who apparently warned him not to eat what looks like a meat 'Millenium Falcon'. In actual fact it was a skinned raw Goat's face complete with sagging eyeballs, but to a pissed-up Rob it looked like heaven.

You can see more of Rob in this state on our forthcoming DVD. He is also available for weddings and Bar Mitzvahs.

On the studio front there's not a great deal to report other than Paul's face has instantly begun to melt, sitting in front of his 50 inch computer screen (you know what they say about big screens don't you...), rehearsing the tracks and smoking the herb as if his facial elasticity depended on it. Charles is his accomplice in the rehearsal side of things although he prefers a box of nineteenth century nasal snuff to weed and a lengthy piss up at the pub with me and various sheep farmers. Adrian and Dave are busy recording drums and bass whilst i wile away the first few days amending the latest chapter to 'The Gospel Of Filth' and writing this pile of old baloney.

Incidentally the book is still progressing nicely although as you can imagine the whole process is a lengthy one what with the constant migration of ideas between conspirators and the amount of research that has gone into it's construction, although author Gavin Badderley has promised to deliver it early next year. Still, the wait will be worth it i can promise you, the chapter i have just finished proof reading on (to tie in with the chapter headed "Cruelty And The Beast") is extremely cantankerous, tracing the history of serial murder from Medieval attributions to werewolves through to modern day vampire-killers and cannibals. This chapter also features an alternative narrative on the Norwegian Black Metal murders of the mid-nineties as well as quotes and useful insights by everyone from Mushroomhead to Emperor to Charlie Manson. The next time i put poisoned ink to paper i will include a preview of one of the more juicier parts of the text for your delectation and much-sought after approval. But only if you're good girls and boys...

Never before in the history of this band have we been so ready for an album prior to going in. All of the songs have been rehearsed and demoed relentlessly, Paul is actually going over one even as we speak, over and over again to the point where i wish i'd never been born with ears. Like a bat. Still, in my sensory radar is the smell of dinner being slowly cooked, which is one great benefit of being cooped up in a residential studio. The food! By the time i go to India at the end of the year i will doubtless be about the size of a balloon with a face like Vince Neil back on the booze. To be fair though, everyone is making an effort to stay a little in shape this time around, even to the point of an early morning jog. And Dave has upped wanking himself off to five times a day AND with the other hand! Apparently. The threat of an upcoming UK tour will do that to a man you know.

On the tour front the tickets sales are going so well we subsequently decided to add in a warm-up show in sunny Colchester the day prior to Southampton. Tickets for this are scant and going fast so you'd better grab them quick if you wish to see us at our musical and possible physical worse (five weeks worth of studio banquets later... ).

Anyway, that seems to be all for now, i promise to keep you updated on a regular basis although as of next week i will be starting vocal duties concurrently in studio two. This is so i'm not left to the last minute with a stomach full of flutterbies.

We are also doing several covers during this recording period and if someone out there can guess what they are, then a signed photo of Charles wearing our new girlie knicker and bra set shall be yours. You lucky fuckers! Till next i befoul the air with my presence.... hope you all had a happy halloween! With love,

Count Filth.

Yeah! Thanks Count Filth. Now you can shut that flapping mouth of yours, click your heels together three times six and head back to the pit that spawned you. Haha!

I cannot effing wait for Peace Through Superior Firepower! I'm sacrificing my saving and just totally splurge them on this magnificant DVD and Dimmu's Stormblast rerelease CD too. Who cares about savings when Chinese New Year is coming? :P

So here's the picture of the cover art of Stormblast:



Alright, catch yer later while I meet up with The Nordic Hero, Rei for yet another bout of publik mass desekration! And I shallth point the horns of the Devil up high and Hail him loud.

See ya!

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One serving of smallpox, please

Scene: Cuddling on my couch, late of an evening last week. WR is ill, but is still looking quite attractive to me. Am trying to weigh the risks, which seem less the later it gets.

Me: So . . . you would be contagious then.

WR: Yeah, but I asked my doctor how long I'd been contagious and he says it would have been for 3 days before I started showing symptoms.

Me: You actually asked your doctor?

WR: Oh yeah. So you probably already have it.

Me: I bet I don't. I don't feel sick.

WR: Well, if that's true, and if you don't become ill, then that means that you gave it to me.

Me: Excuse me? How do you figure that?

WR: Because . . . that means that it's some American disease.

Me: But I'm not sick! How could I possibly have given it to you?

WR: People can carry viruses and be immune to them. You're probably a carrier.

Me: I'm not a carrier!

WR: You could be. Why else wouldn't you be sick already?

Me: What, like I'm the settlers of Jamestown and you're the helpless Native Americans about to be wiped out by smallpox?

WR: Basically, yes. I didn't stand a chance.

Me: Well, tempting as it is, getting a viral infection of the upper respiratory tract wouldn't actually be fun.

[pause]

Me: Okay, getting it could be fun, but having it, not so much.

WR: It's just the upper tract, though. It's not, like, the whole thing.

Me: Ah. Good point.

End Scene

(Editor's Addendum: Some extensive field work has proven that I am, for all intents and purposes, quite immune to this disease. Take that, England!)

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Welcome Freedom!

Finally the Os are over!

Gone are the dull and monotonous days when I mugged my butt off. Here are the days I embrace going out as often as I like and to do whatever as I please. Ahhh such a rare feeling indeed!

Let's track back in time, back to June this very year. The stress then was already mounting, like dead bodies in a damnable pit. Slowly, foul and fecund. It was sick, befouling everyone's mood. The books are keep mugged and the papers are always hitting our faces, one stack after another, like a firing squad. We are being executed, to find ourselves drained of brain pulp and all sanity at the end of everyday. This shit continued for a good solid 6 months. We toiled. We sweated. We bled. We had our hands work for us in the most nerve wrecking papers namely SS for an notorious example, and they will ressurect again. We cracked our skulls into half for better flow of brain matter in vain to speed up absorption of information, apparently it always failed. Heck it. We or at least for the case study of me, have fell asleep studying so many times you don't have enough fingers to count with. That sense of despair that entrapped me, you lucky fuckers won't understand. That abdominable sense of despair sooner or later turned into numbness to the world. Going out or not doesn't matter any longer. Using the computer and watching TV has became a carnal sin. Life has took a puritan turn. I believe I have clocked a full hundreds of hours bent at the desk, eyes on those books, during Those Days. I shall label that damned period of time as Those Days. During Those Days, there;s only one word that awokened me everyday, you got that correct, it's STUDY either that or BOOKS.

OMG. Why am I talking about this shit?

Cos, it's time to play our hearts out! Rejoice and let your happiness diffuse at the rate of oxygen and bromine without the cover lid! Haha! Sorry, Chemistry hangover.

NOW IT'S NO HOLDS BARRED PLAYING AND PURE INDULGENCE!

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My UK stage debut

I'm officially famous, and my bf is even more famous. Last night we saw The Reduced Shakespeare Company's touring production of Completely Hollywood. We ended up with front-row tickets, which seemed strange to me since we'd booked quite late. Then WR mentioned that being in the front row quite likely means that you'll be called up on stage. So I told him that we needed to move, now, because I wasn't doing that. Only then there was nowhere else to go.

So, of course, it happened. The 3 actors decided that they needed a body double, so one of them walked down off the stage and stopped right in front of WR and asked him to go up. When he got on stage they took one look at the dress shirt and tie and asked if he was Mormon. I got a kick out of that.

But suddenly the whole "Yeah, all that was left were these here front row seats" claim became very suspect to me. I think WR did it on purpose, because not only was he perfectly relaxed and happy up there, but he also did a really good job! And they made him do a whole speech and everything with the "Tara" theme in the background. So he got a wild round of applause, and I was quite happy with my vicarious fame.

Only then in the 2nd act they decided to bring the entire front row (ie, "The Extras") up on stage. This meant me. So I'm up there, thinking, "Okay, this is fine, I'm in the middle of a whole group of people." Then they decided that someone needed to stand at the front of the stage and be a femme fatale in the manner of Sharon Stone. And they grabbed me. And told me to look seductive and pretend to smoke a cigarette.

I had to tell them (and the rest of the Leicester Haymarket Theatre) that I don't actually smoke, so how exactly should my fingers go? Because really, does anyone pretend to smoke after the age of 7? We got that sorted, and I struck a few vampish poses. Only then they accused me of trying to solicit one of the older British gentlemen in front.

Actor: "Hey! She could be your daughter!"
Elderly British Gentleman in Front: "She is my daughter!"
Actors: (shocked expressions at him, then at me)
Me: (innocent hair twirl while looking off into corner)
Audience: (much laughter)

After a bit more of this we wrapped up and headed back to our seats.

I think my favorite part, though, came at the very end with the applause. We clapped enthusiastically for the actors (with a special nod to WR). And yet, and yet, the audience somehow refrained from rising to give a standing ovation like a gaggle of hysterical Pageant Mothers. It felt so, SO nice not to be guilted into a standing ovation for a show that, while lots of fun, did not actually transport my soul from my body, which is my personal criteria for such a thing. Otherwise it doesn't mean anything. It's like french-kissing your waiter just because your food was hot.

And there you have it--the story of my UK Stage Debut. Oh yeah. I tread the boards, baby.

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I'm a Happy Maggot once again.

Wheee! Thanks Mr Neo once again for getting me Live 9.0!

God damn it. That Live CD blew me away! I was trying hard to hear which song belongs to which country's gig, my conclusion, Eyeless, Purity and People = Shit are from Singapore's. Why so little? Phoneix and Vegas crowd are much much better and sic-er by all means then SG Maggots. We must strive to become better maggots, but hey there's only a mere 5000 people at SG's gig, so pardon is possible :P Slipknot honoured SG maggots by inserting so many pictures of SG's gig in the brilliant booklet. So I guess What more can a Maggot ask for? :P Oh yes, all the black and white pictures are from SG's gig. :) Oh man, by listening to it, makes my soul retrack back to Fort Canning, all sweaty and tired and most of all, fucking sic of all sic-nesses. \m/ I need another dose of slipknot badly! Hail Slipknot. Hail them for being such a great introduction for me into the world of metal, I owe them that. And, Slipknot has been a great source of energy and motivation for my Os. Whenever I feel like giving up and just rest, I will remember Corey and Slipknot;s undying bouniful pool of energy, and I will be back on track to mug ever harder. I shall live my life the Slipknot Way, all sic and without reserve. Geez, there should be a philosophy based on Slipknot's ideology! Thank you Slipknot for everything. I vow when you guys drop by Singapore for yet another gig (which I trust you will), I will show you guys a card flourish move I created in the name of Slipknot, the Purity Cut.

One word, I'M A HAPPY MAGGOT. And I will always be. In my heart. You stand a very very important position. \m/ Hail! It's seem only like yesterday when I first bought my first Slipknot cd which is Iowa. Well, I have been a maggot for near to 5 years now. Phew, that's quite long eh?

Here's to make another maggot jealous! Muahaha!


HAHA!

Stay Sic of all sic-nesses, maggot Ling.

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The new P&P

So I actually saw this about a month ago, because I am a lucky girl, and because for some reason The Powers That Be decided to drag their feet before releasing the thing in the US. I didn't want to write all about it then, because it didn't seem fair to my girlfriends who were having to wait and wait and wait. But now the wait is almost over, so here's my take on it!

(Please note that this list is written for those who have already seen, loved, and possibly memorized the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. If you do not fit into this category, feel free to keep reading, just trust that my jokes are all kinds of funny, and that if you do not think so it's because you're out of the loop.)

(Please also note that many of the things said here will have already been mentioned in the critic's reviews. But please also note that I saw this well before the American critics did, and so they are actually copying me.)

Ahem.

Things I really liked about the new Pride & Prejudice, which will never replace the BBC's 1995 version in my heart but was actually quite fabulous in its own right:

The cinematography, with the fields and the mists and the rainstorms and everything. A couple of times I thought, "Gosh, that's so beautiful. I wish I lived somewhere that beautiful." Then, you know, I remembered the part where I do. But still, it looks different w/the great cameras. The setting looked very realistic, with the laundry on the line and the mud and pigs and crowded dance halls--it all had a great look to it, and there were lots of fun things to notice because the camera kept moving all the time.

Keira Knightley--Even though I call her Keira Hipbones Poutyface McKnightley sometimes, she sells it here with a minimum of pouting and posing. Also I want her makeup artist. I will give her my student loans if she will just come live at my house and make me beautiful.

Mr. Collins as played by Tom Hollander or whoever. I could actually feel a little bit sorry for him in this one--he's still a complete idiot, but he's not as smarmy/oily/nasty as David Bamber was in the BBC production.

I thought on the whole the filmmakers picked clever ways of moving the story forward without missing too much.

Donald Sutherland makes Mr. Bennett into a really sweet husband and father rather than simply a wisecracker. He and Mrs. Bennett were actually kind of sweet together. Plus, he does a great job in the scene where he gives Lizzy his Blessing. He made me get all teary-eyed. Sniff.

The part where Mr. Darcy helps Lizzie into the carriage. (Aw yeahh . . .)

The economic stuff--you can see in this one that there really was a necessity for these girls to marry well. When Mr. Collins proposes, Lizzy looks a bit worried that she could actually be forced to marry him for the sake of her family. This also comes through in Charlotte's situation, and she kind of broke my heart when she tells Lizzie why she's getting married.

Jane--in this version she actually is The Pretty Sister (rather than The Sister with the Weird Forehead That Everyone Says Is Prettiest, BBC). And I loved her hair. I would like to have hair like that.

There's a cute scene where Bingley gets up the nerve to propose to Jane. I'm sure it never in a million years would have happened in the book, but it made me giggle.

The Proposal Scene. (Please excuse me while my breathing changes. I'm fine.) Everything was a lot more intense in this one, and Darcy came out sounding much more human & vulnerable. This is a bit of a cheat if you read the way it is in the book, but it worked for me. Plus both actors were doing a great job and were all up in each other's faces. Also it was outside in the rain. Mmmmm . . . rain . . .


Things I didn't so much love:

Judi Dench doesn't get nearly enough screen time. It's criminal.

Because there wasn't always time for the full Austen dialogue, the scriptwriters had to improvise in some places. Sometimes this worked, other times it really didn't, and I found myself thinking, "Um, who wrote that?" A line or two from the second proposal scene stood out as being kind of craptastic.

The ending was very abrupt. They found a funny note to end on, but I could have used a bit more resolution, and possibly a wedding scene, or at the very least a friggin kiss, dangit!

I really missed the Wet Shirt Scene. Stupid people not giving me my Wet Shirt Scene! Dang you!!!

Didn't love Matthew MacFayden as Darcy. He was fine, and he was great during the proposal scene, but he's not going to be my new bf or anything. Man can wear the long coat, though. I do love me some long coat.

Mr. Darcy is let off too easily. Lady J made this point, and I think she's right. They never address the part where he was being conceited in the beginning, and he was proud. He never apologises for his earlier behavior ("and so I might still have been but for you . . . dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!"). They just make the whole thing look like he's always been this perfectly nice guy who is just shy, and that Lizzie just read him wrong in the beginning, which is too bad for her. Some people might disagree with me here, which is fine. I guess I'll have to watch it a few more times to be sure. ;-)

The Wickham/Lydia thing gets glossed over in about 5 minutes. Yes, I know that's the part we all tend to fastforward in the BBC version, but still. It's the principle of the thing. And we never get to see Lizzie give Wickham the smackdown. And least Wickham is cute and Orlando-Bloomish in this one, and doesn't have a weird torso. You know what I'm talking about.

So there you have it! And ladies, you only have what, one more week to go??

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The Tesco who Stole Thanksgiving

I don't even trust myself to tell this story, because it is so very sad. Please, send the children out of the room and grab some tissues. You'll need them.

I must preface by explaining my unreasonable love for pumpkin pie. Every Thanksgiving I eat it--hot, cold, with a fork, like a pizza, whatever. I usually consume an average of 2 pies during the holiday season, which is why my Christmas presents consist of money to buy new pants.

One of the lovely American YSAs is throwing a Thanksgiving dinner at her house this week. I offered to make pies and my cheeseball. Because hey, everything is better with the cheeseball. I knew I would have to buy real pumpkins because they don't do the nice big cans of Libby's over here, but I was prepared for that. I figured that a pie made with fresh pumpkin would taste better and might help convince the Philistines over here that they should really get on the pumpkin pie train.

Only today I went to the largest supermarket they have in England, even Tesco, the great and abominable superstore that is singlehandedly destroying all the local producers, and was faced with a horrible shock--one which really should have occured to me earlier.

There are no pumpkins anymore.

I mean, it makes sense. Once Halloween is over, why would they keep carrying them? Only they should have THOUGHT about the part where Americans live here and we need our pie!!! So now there will be no pumpkin pie, and Thanksgiving is ruined. Also they probably don't have the real kind of frozen apple pie either, so I'll end up having to bring tarts or something twee and unAmerican like that. I think I'm going to go home now and eat the cheeseball with a large spoon, or possibly my finger. Then I'm going to lie down on the couch and sob, thinking of how my mom went to Costco yesterday and bought a pumpkin pie the size of a tire for $5.99 and how I'm not going to have any of it.

I'll check the other shops in town, but I know very well that nothing can be done. My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

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Yay, I might not flunk out of school!

I'm sure my parents will be very relieved to read this, because I get the feeling that they may possibly have been slightly concerned. I think what tipped me off was the part where every email to me contained a p.s.:

"p.s. Hey, so you're still going to classes, right? Ho ho ho!"
or
"p.s. So . . . are you giving yourself time to, you know, study amidst all this socializing?"
or
"p.s. You're not going to flunk out of school, are you? Because that's why you're there, you know."

But now everyone can rest easy, because I've now received two pieces of coursework back and I'm officially [my university's] daddy. Or at least I'm not flunking out yet.

The grading scale is different here, so I had to ask my British classmates to remind me how it worked before I opened the envelope with my library weblogs essay in it. They said that anything above a 50 is passing, and anything above a 70 is "with distinction." And WR says that an 80 or up means that you are an official genius person.

So I opened my envelope and I got a 72.

And it's a good thing I asked them to clarify the grading scale, because if I'd gotten a 72 on something back home I probably would have thrown myself off a building and tried to aim for some schmoopy PDA couple on the way down. As it was, I started doing the Happy Dance, but just inside my head since there were other people around. And then some other people started saying what they got and my score was like 3 points higher! And we all know that if you're doing better than other people then that's the real measure of success!!

Of course, then I started worrying that it was all a fluke and that I would flunk my next piece of coursework and then they would ask me to please leave, but today I got back my literature review/essay about "Women as Readers" for my Gender & Information class, and I got a 71!

Maybe they'd be willing to just waive the dissertation in the light of my obvious brilliance. I'm sure they're discussing it now, while they plan the parade and everything.

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You have got no fucking idea?!

OMFG!!! Mayhem is confirmed coming to this fucked up island of Singapore! Thanks Shyiathan a octagillion billion whatever-illion! \m/

And to futhur shock me is that the gig is held at a proper venue, Expo @ Max Pavilion! Wow, you can imagine the pure karnage indoors! Gonna be tonnes better than Slipknot's. The sound and everything is going to be so fucking tight. I can't wait!

Here's the poster! :P




Let the Deserkration unfold itself in the unknowing masses of Singapore. Seize them unprepared and blow them off! \m/ Hail Mayhem! Hail Shyiathan!

Let me just hope they will play 'Freezing Moon', let us feel the bleak nordic weather through your wunderbar music!

-- HIGH --

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At least that's what you said -- Wilco.

Hereby presenting the Live Video of Wilco, At Least that's what you said.

Enjoy!

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Since you all seem determined to out me . . .

And can I just interject here that I should never have provided you people with a public forum in which to conspire against me?

GOSH!!!

Okay then, let's do this thing.

Some of you may have noticed that I've been slightly . . . preoccupied lately. I haven't been posting as often, and when I do it's probably not up to standard. Some of you--the trusted few who have since turned against me--know the reason for this. And for everyone else, the reason is that I haven't been able to post about what I really want to talk about, which is my English Boyfriend!!!

[Blissful Sigh . . . . ]

So, yeah. Short story, I'd heard all about WR from Lady J before I met him--all about how witty and smart he is, and how he's really going places, and how all girls want to date him, and how if I'm looking to snag an English bloke he's probably the best I could do. (This last bit was said with a slightly doubtful expression.)

So of course, these were my thoughts:
1. Chuh. I'm witty, okay?
2. Anyway, I am so focused on my career right now.
3. I'm not about to be anybody's groupie, thanks.

Only then I met WR at that dinner, and we had a really great time talking about stuff like civil rights and foreign films and family law and blogging. So then I thought:

1. Huh. He is witty.
2. And cute.
3. Oh dear . . .

And then he asked me out!! It pretty much snowballed all fast and lovely-like from there, because it turns out that I still can't say no to witty lawyer boys who ask for things in British accents. I am officially a sleep-deprived, spaced-out, snog-addicted headcase who washes black socks with my white laundry and turns all my underwear grey.

By the way, WR reads this blog, which is why I couldn't really be giving y'all the play-by-play until it was safe to do so. So, you know, please keep that in mind! ;-)

I promise I will try not to be too gushy, but I am quite possibly dating the sweetest man alive.

And I'd better go now, because I think I smell something burning.

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One week left to heaven.

Wheee! After so much of mugging and endurance over the sands of time, yes it's correct. Yes, finally it's here. It's just left with ONE week of final confrontation at the bleak exam hall!

One word, or rather two, Can't Wait!!!

Anyhow, on a more positive side, Mr Neo, being such a nice and sweet friend of mine, bought Slipknot's Live 9.0 for me. Oh man... I'm starting to feel guilty because you have already got Marilyn Manson's Holy Wood for me. Mr Neo, if you are reading this, to tell you the truth, I really don't mind you buying stuff for me. HEHE! Kidding.

And, I have been obsessed with german! Gosh, gib mir Till Lindemann! ** Fariza MSN chat. ** Haha!

Just one week left. FOCUS and have no regrets. =) \m/otivated me!

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I don't want any of your orange juice

So I just sent the lovely Streets home today, and I'm hoping she's back (relatively) safe in the Belfast. I had such a great time hanging out with her, even if I wasn't the best hostess in the world.

Also I learned something very important: Streets now knows more about my town than I do.

She had some time to prowl about while I was in classes, and every day she would tell me about some treasure she had found.

Streets: Hey, so do you know if True Lover's Walk comes out to the park?

Me: Huh?

Streets: Oh, it's this great little back path I found in the town centre, and I think it must lead out to the park but I didn't have enough time to go explore it, so I wondered if you knew.

(later)

Streets: Do you mind if we swing back around near the movie theatre? I want to take a picture of the stained glass windows in the back.

Me: There's stuff in the back?

(later)

Streets: So you know that western part of campus where you said there wasn't anything interesting? Well I went over there and there's actually this beautiful path that goes through fields and hedgerows and cows and things. So if you could walk it one day and tell me how it is, that would be great.

Me: I hang my head in shame.

Three days in, she'd also found the Thornton's chocolate shop, which I didn't know existed, introduced me to the chocolate chip shortbread at M&S, knew what time the Carillon Tower would be holding its weekly recital, could tell me the ethnic and religious statistics of the town and which minority groups seemed most likely to begin a conflict, and had the bus schedules memorized.

The only thing I can take any credit for was introducing her to Crispy Aromatic Duck when we went out for Chinese food. Only I think I lose points because I had to follow her to the restaurant.

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It's The Precious!

So the other day Savvymom sent me a picture of baby Savannah, who after 20 months of life now finally has enough hair to be gathered and put into girly things like pigtails. This day probably could have come sooner, but if anyone tried to put anything in Savvybabe's hair she began bellowing in the manner of a moose calf while shaking her head violently and rubbing her fists through her hair as if trying to shake out a nestful of spiders carrying egg sacs.

And now look how precious!!!

(Picture by Savvydad!)

When I got this pic my heart nearly burst right out of my chest, because it's like seeing extra cute when I didn't even think she could get cuter. So I ran around with my laptop, showing everyone at my house the pretty pretty pictures. To their credit, my sweet friends all reacted appropriately, with the ooing and ahhing. Some talked about the baby, others mentioned the great photography.

But then this happened:

Guy 1: You know, she looks like of like [So and so's] kids did when they were young. Doesn't she remind you of them?

Guy 2: Yeah, I can see the resemblance to those kids.

Me: Um, no she doesn't. I have no idea who you're talking about, but she looks just like me, not like some random kids off the street.

And also we don't discuss other children whilst looking at pictures of The Precious. The exception would be if the discussion were along the lines of, "Yes, I saw this one other child, but that child was not as pretty as your niece. Poor thing." But it turns out that they just meant that [So-and-so's] kids had white-blond hair when they were little, like Savvybaby does.

I can accept that.

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It's been a while...

Hey, it's been a brief while since I blogged. So here's it and you people just shut up and stop clicking the back button.

Alright, recently Mr Neo just gave me his collection of metal cds! Thank you for much for this wunderbar gift, I really appreciate it alot. My huge \m/ovitation to study even harder, faster, faster, harder. Haha! *flourisher's insider joke* Those songs in those cds are kickass! From Emperor to Mayhem to Satyricon to Opeth to Whores of Babylon to Cradle of Filth, phew what a colossal collection! Thanks once again! I will post a picture of the cds someday when I'm more free, probably after Os which is finally ending in 10 days only. Endure! - remember the time i waited for slipknot for 4 fucked up years! 10 days is a small fly! -

And I have bought Rammstein Rosenrot, so one tick on my hungry agenda. The DVD from the limited edition is already worth the price! The dvd is a 3 performance clips compilation, Reise Reise, Meil Teil and Sonne. Oh my fucking god, Till Lindermann has this superb stage presence to the extent that he can command total obeisence from his moshing crowd. During Reise Reise, he just stood stoic and stern and all nazi-like during the solo part. Phew! You got to see it to understand! Rammstein is my new found obsession and Till is one of my favourite guys on earth now. RESPECT. The album is of a slower pace and more melancholic in nature as compared to the hard hitting Reise Reise album. Which is good. Hail Rammstein! Ich lieben Rammstein! Mein heart ist with du. Haha, broken german. \m/ Please do come to Singapore sometime next year! I await your arrival.

Oh yes, finally there's some news from the Cradle camp on the dvd, it's been postponed to 21st Nov. Meanwhile, here's the diabolical tracklist:
01. Gilded Cunt
02. Nemesis
03. Mannequin
04. Black Goddess Rises
05. Gothic Romance
06. Her Ghost in the Fog
07. Nymphetamine
08. Tortured Soul Asylum
09. The Forest Whispers My Name
10. Bruise Upon the Silent Moon
11. The Promise of Fever
12. 13 Autumns and a Widow
13. Mother of Abominations
14. Painting Flowers White Never Suited My Palette
15. From the Cradle to Enslave

Kickass ain't it? They are finally playing Damnation and a Day's songs! WOOT! \m/ Thanks Dani so much! \m/

Alright, back to business. 10 days to my 6 month worth of freedom. ENDURE, I must.

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I'm not dead yet!

Sorry, sorry, I promise I'm not dead. I was in London, though, with the very lovely Streets, which was just wonderful. And now she is at my house and actually reading in my room this very minute and buying me things like chocolate chip Scottish shortbread, so life probably couldn't actually get any better.

So here are the London highlights and lowlights. Ready go!

Highlights:
Seeing Streets!
Dinner at an English pub, where one orders things like lasagna, chicken korma, and shepherd's pie. Yay for pubs.
Sunny for the first half of the day, rain only once.
The National Portrait Gallery
Golden Jubilee Bridge
Green Park
St. James Park
Saw all our favorite spots. So lovely.
Streets found a candy shop at Picadilly where she could buy American gummy candy.
We thought we had the name of the Guys & Dolls theatre wrong when we couldn't find it on the map and we were running out of time, so I called Savvymom and Savvydad from outside the Charing Cross Underground station, and they were willing to get out of bed at 5:30am to look it up on the Internet. Her sleepy words: "Hey. That's what we do in our family." This is because our family is made up of terminally lost people with cell phones. Only then Streets found the info in a free paper and so I hung up on them.
Noticed two British guys trying to throw a football back and forth in the park. Was one of the funnier things I've ever seen. Picture me and my sister Savvymom (for those who know us, finish your food or beverage before you start imagining) tossing a pigskin around while resembling two British men in nice sweaters and you would about have it. Lotsa fumbling and bad spirals. But bless their hearts for trying!
Fish & chips--the first I've had since since I've been here!
Saw all the fireworks from Guy Fawke's Night during the drive back home.
Am listening to Christmas music Right. This. Second. Guy Fawkes' Night was last night, so now the Christmas season is ON.

Lowlights:
Did NOT see Ewan McGregor in Guys & Dolls, because he actually wasn't in the Saturday matinee, so it wasn't even worth buying the tickets. Also the student tickets were gone and the regular returns were 55 pounds, which I wouldn't even pay to see Colin Firth recite P&P speeches while holding my face in his hands and staring into my eyes. (Um . . . okay maybe I would, actually, now that I think about it. But still. Not for Ewan McGregor's stand-in, I won't.)
I got very tired from all the walking and still have not had enough sleep.
But these lowlights barely even count, really, because it was such a lovely weekend and I was with great people and had a great time.

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Word of warning

The packaged sandwiches here can make you want to kill people. Or, I should say, the ones available yesterday in the library cafe made me want to kill people.

Every single one of them is gooey and contains mayo, usually as the main ingredient to which the other ingredients (like meat or cheese) are added.

Some of you may read this and go, "Great! I love mayo!" My dad, for instance, has been known to grab a jar of Miracle Whip and make an entire sandwich with just huge gobs of Miracle Whip in it. This usually makes me want to dry heave, but hey, I guess if dinner's late (and you're nasty) that's what you have to do. (Love you, Dad! And this is not me putting your personal life on the Internet, okay?)

So anyway, back to me and my problems in the cafe. I'm hungry, I don't have a lot of money, I don't have time to go somewhere else because I have to get back to work, and my only choices are these horrible sandwiches that are all soggy & gooey & mayo-based. Tuna & sweetcorn mixed w/mayo. Chicken salad mixed w/mayo. Cheese & spring onion mixed w/mayo. Ploughman slathered in mayo. You get the idea. The only non-mayo sandwich was ham & mustard, which didn't appeal either. In the end I went for the cheese & spring onion & fresh tomato mixed w/mayo sandwich. I could only force down half, and I only did that because I needed calories.

I really wanted to just let everyone have it, though.

"AAARRRGGGHHH! What is with you people and the sandwiches? All this time--all this time I've been defending your cuisine! Defending it, I tell you! I've sworn up and down that no, your food is really great, and that I don't even mind things like boiled Brussel sprouts! And after all this you can't even give me a flipping sandwich that is not the equivalent of eating phleghm between two pieces of bread!?!? AAAAARRRGGGHHH!!!"

But then the calories started kicking in, and I turned in a paper, and had a lovely choc ice, which is something that is really good about living here, and I started to feel like a normal person who wasn't on the brink of taking a semi-automatic weapon up a tower. And tonight I'm going to see The Deranged Marriage, and it will be lovely.

Crisis averted for now.

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This is my 100th post

And I'm too swamped to even make it a good 'un. (See, Mom and Dad? I do homework!) Instead I will leave you with a survey, which I just stole from Danalee, which she stole from somewhere else.

Also I will tell you that last night for dinner I had a toasted baguette with slabs of warm brie, thick bacon, and cherry tomatoes inside. And oh my gosh it was good.

Ahem. Here is your survey.

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY
1. Stephanie (I don't know why)
2. Tee (to my sweet baby niece)
3. Nemesis

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF
1. I look sexy and vulnerable in pink
2. I can raise one eyebrow to give foolish people the Look of Impending Death
3. I have great calf muscles, which makes people think I'm a runner even though I'm not

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF
1. My milkmaid shoulders
2. I am so white that you can actually see my veins through my skin
3. My complete lack of abdominal strength--I will probably just slump over one day and be unable to straighten up

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE
1. English
2. Irish
3. Southern

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU
1. Spiders
2. The old men on LDS Linkup who try to write me
3. Scary clowns

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS
1. My keys (turns out to be a problem when I don't have them)
2. My mobile, because I like to think that the world will stop if people can't reach me
3. Four different lip-gloss products, since I lose them all the time

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW
1. Jeans
2. A librarian bun
3. A saucy grin

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS
1. "At Last" by Etta James
2. "In a Little While" by U2
3. "Hang on Little Tomato" by Pink Martini
(Wait, I just realized they sort of all have the same theme, even though that's not why I picked them. Huh. Betcha Freud would have a field day with that one.)

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU
1. Sense of humor
2. Shoulders
3. The accent
(My preferred sex is male, btw.)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW
1. Stop studying. (Oh wait, I just did! Hah!)
2. Go out and play.
3. Drink Ghirardelli hot chocolate next to a fire

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED
1. Superpower
2. Librarian
3. Queen of the Universe

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION
1. Paris
2. Prague
3. Anywhere with clear blue water and a beach and people who will brink me the slushy fruit drinks

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE
1. Travel all over the world
2. Become the scary old lady on the porch who yells at the neighborhood kids
3. Not go sky-diving

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL
1. I cry at commercials sometimes.
2. I have a princess canopy bed with pink ribbons and flowers and streamers all over it
3. Wait, what do you even mean by that question? Are you saying that it's acceptable to refer to women as "girls"? What kind of sexist pig are you, huh?

THREE KID'S NAMES YOU LIKE
There is no way on this green earth I would tell the Internet that, because every time I so much as think of a name I like, it shoots to the Top 20 list. So I'm just keeping that to myself, you nasty bunch of name poachers. You know who you are, and I hope your kids have perpetually runny noses and that they will wear too-small sweatpants constantly just to make you look like bad parents.

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