Mood: Rotten.

I feel weak, tired, lonely and annoyed today.

So much so that I can't even write about it. I need an uplift.

An apology and a hug would be enough.

Things to Think About Instead of Redundancy.

1. I wish I had my own cat. But then it couldn't possibly be as cool as my other two family cats could it? No way.

2. I am going to see Tim Minchin in December. Could be jobless by then so will need the laughs... doh!

3. After reading books about the Taliban, Nazi's and Mugabe I was leant PS. I Love You by a colleague at work. The pale blue and pink cover immediately put me off but I perservered and whilst the ending wasn't as sickly sweet as I predicted... it was all still a bit rubbish. I'm now reading a story based around a suicide and illegal immigrants and I'm already enjoying it far far more.

4. I also have queued up to read: Richard Dawkins- The Greatest Show on Earth and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.

5. The word Queued is really weird. But then most words are when you look at them long enough.

6. I had groceries delivered from from Ocado today. My driver was called Rex and he drove a purple cabbage van. I was very impressed despite buying the worlds biggest bag of pasta by accident.

7. I really need a hair cut. And a new bag. Well actually I don't really really need a new bag... but I do want one.

8. I dressed like a gypsy pirate on Sunday. I think I looked wicked cool. I wore my new octopus necklace.

9. I love clouds.

Ace.

So, England are through. They made scraping through the first round pretty hard work. Goons.
I have FOUR. Cound 'em 1, 2, 3, 4 days off work now. I walked home in the Sunshine feeling pretty good. Sat down with a moments disappointment when I realised I missed Andy Roddick's match on tv... but then felt better once I realised there was an equally fit guy playing Federer on the other channel. Score.

I'm currently watching an epic 45 game fifth set with two players who are clearly more machine than human. One of the players, Inser I think his name is, his head is way too small for his huge, elongated body. He looks stretched and wierd and for that reason alone I don't want him to win.

I think I found a gland in my chinese tonight. It was orange, with smooth black shapes inside. It looked like a gland. It smelt like a gland. And there was no way in HELL it was going anywhere near my mouth.

I am looking forward to a well earnt lie in tomorrow. I've been waiting to catch up on this sleep for months. When I do finally wake up... I have a mammoth house clean/chore fest to look forward to. *groan*.

Derren still hasn't called. The marriage might be off.

Parcels.

I love parcels.

I have a very special friend, L, who recently sent me a parcel to cheer me up. She sent me camomile tea, bath bubbles, some hair treats, a candle and an oil burner all wrapped up in a lovely purple tissue paper package. All because I was feeling blue. :-)

I'm still waiting to hear from Derren.

ENIGMA.

I went to see Derren Brown last night. I think I fell in love with him a little bit more than is normal. He blew. My. Mind. Well he would have done if I hadn't read his book and worked out how he did most of the stunts he pulled. Let's settle for he semi blew my mind.

First of all I need to admit to turning up on Thursday evening with a ticket for Friday night's performance. Some embarrassment was spared by realising BEFORE reaching the ticket collectors and calmly making an exit without drawing too much attention. Then, yesterday evening I struggled to get home in time from work so I stayed in Birmingham and got there early. Because I got there so early N and I had our faces photographed and our names taken down by some guy working for the show. This immediately made us nervous.

So along comes a game of "Guess Whom?" in the first half of the performance. A photo of yours truly being held in Derren Brown's very hand while our names were read out. There was about 20 of us altogether and I was fortunately NOT picked on for looking like a total dork in my photo. I also like to think he paused for a second on reading my name... possibly taking in the image of his future wife- he'd know of course being a master of prediction. His audience particpators had to pick a person from the photo's and Derren guessed who they had chosen through a series of questions which the audience member answered silently in their heads. Obviously Derren already knew who they were going to pick but it all makes for a great show. :-)

I worked out how a few of the more magic-trick- based stunts were done... but as for the mind/prediction/nothing-is-random based stuff- that's what blows me away. If I ever win a billion on the lottery I'm going to pay him to teach me everything he knows so that I can take over the world. It's hard to believe that as much as we like to think everything we do is free choice, a scary amount of everything we do can be controlled, influenced and easily predicted by intellectual, borderline obsessive experts.

The ending was phenomenal. He truly is a master of his art.

LOVED IT.

Hellish Week.

I had a mini break down this week. Worse still... this mini break down was at work. At my desk.

In the space of a few short months I have...

... had a few niggly health issues,
... bagged myself a promotion,
... been told our jobs will be under review at some point in the near future,
... commenced training for my new job which has been REALLY hard and stressful aswell as doing late duty all week.

So consequently, the day I made a silly mistake on my first day "flying solo"... I cried at work. I couldn't stop it. It just happened. I feel completely stupid about it but I guess it's been brewing up for a while.

To make up for such a horrible week, I got treated to dinner on Friday along with plenty of alcohol. I feel much better already.

I re-diddled my blog too today in the hope that I will post more. :-) I've also been pondering whether to start tweeting...

Sometimes...

... I think I'm actually going to explode.

Distraction.

I got distracted for 15 minutes today by a dead bee. I found it in my kitchen sink.

I've decided they look like tiny little buffalos with alien eyes and wings.

Pope? Nope.

Dear Mr "former"-Nazi Pope,

And I say "former" with trepidation.

You may receive a welcome from a proportion of our mostly welcoming country but I hope you know just how many people feel you don't deserve to step foot in our country.

You have let down Catholics the world over. You have let down innocent children in an unforgivable way and you still refuse to acknowledge the damage you caused. You protected yourselves, harboured and protected those committing the worst crimes on this Earth. You allowed this to happen and then protected those who did it, ignoring the victims. Ignoring everything you supposedly stand for.

I have always hated the outdated and bigoted views your faith seems to have but I am outraged at what you now stand for- lies, evil, abuse, corruption, bigoted views, hatred and judgement. I judge you on all these things. You are sick. You think you are above the law... you're not. You're just a man. Barely.

I wish you'd fuck off quite frankly. The world will keep spinning without the shit you pour out of your gold encrusted churches. Your faith is based on fear, self loathing and hatred of others. You are old and undeserving. I command a respect you haven't earned and will never be worthy of asking of ever again in my eyes.

You're not welcome here. I hope you know that. You're pissing people off, harming people and this damage is unrepairable. Part of me wants you and your cronies to keep coming out with your ludicrous accusations and stories; the more you do, the more we can point and say how shit you are, show you for what you are- nothing, with nothing good to say, nothing positive to share, just a great big empty space where your fucking brains may have once been. The other part however wants you to shut the hell up.

I have no respect for you or anything you have to say. Fuck you.


I joined the Protest the Pope campaign today. I hope I can take part in the demonstration in September.

If there wasn't people like Richard Dawkins and organisation's like the Secular or Humanist society I would actually exploded the other day. Mr Dawkins trying to get the Pope arrested just about restored my faith in intelligence.

I am SICK of the Catholic church. Not Catholic people, believe what you want to believe, I just choose to believe in humans, compassion, and science... just the Catholic Church, how it is organised, how it's corrupt to the core and the sick, demented things they like to brainwash into people. True enough, if people weren't dumb enough to believe it, or on the other hand if more Catholics actually shouted out against the bigoted, evil people speaking on their behalf then there would be some hope. I am SICK of it'd twisted, skewed views on just about everything and low and behold, the paedophile-protector is coming to England to ponce about our largely tolerant country and throw judgments around and offend people.... and I have to PAY for this privilege with my hard earned money?! I don't think so. If the pope really has to come here at all, and quite frankly, as a country with discrimination laws to protect people from this frankly out dated and completely fucked up faith, then I sure as heck am not paying for it.

Hypocrisy will make me explode one day. I am sure of it.

RAGE.

I am so fucking angry at both these indescribably obscene and utterly disturbing items that I can't even blog properly. I might. At some point. But it aint gonna be pretty.

*This*


and *This*.


STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB.

PROductive.

After a manic-paper stuffed-two hour overtime-day at work yesterday I was a lot more productive today.

Left overs from yesterday- filed. Bam.
Results completed- Bam.
Filing- Filed. Bam.
Danish- eaten. Bam.
File checks- completed. Bam
All envelopes filled and sent out to necessary people. BAAAM.
Three court's phoned. Three answers to my questions. Bam Bam.
ALL enquiries completed. Tied up. Filed. Put into my special DEALT WITH folder. BAM BAM BAM.

I was like some sort of machine today. And I feel good about it.

Sore Bronchi.

How can one nose on one relatively small, petite person produce such a HUGE quantity of mucus? I reckon I've used about 3 trees of tissues to help remove over 5 pints of mucus from myself today. Ironically, despite feeling like my brain is slowly liquidizing and pouring out my nose, I actually feel better today than I have the last three days, my temperature seems to be normalising itself without drugs. Tuesday I felt dead, Wednesday I looked and felt dead and Thursday I think mentally I was dead. Despite this, I've still been going to work this week, just finishing work early so that I can get home and sleep as much as possible. I've also been carrying a bag of drugs around- legal of course, mainly neurofen and beechams, strepsils and some covonia bronchial balsalm which feels like your lungs are filling with Whiskey... in the nicest possible way of course.

Tonight I'm off to see Newton Faulkner. Typical that the first time I've been to an acoustic gig in ages and I have an irritating cough. Actually it's past irritating... it's now painful.

Pass the Bronchial Balsalm.

To Women.

Happy International Womens Day!

Wonder(land) Weekend

So. Another busy weekend. Out for a meal at Around The World In 80 Dishes on Friday evening. Alice In Wonderland on Saturday evening followed by birthday drinks for Markuus in Scruffys, and then a last minute, impromptu trip to Eddies to rock the night away. Today I recovered with a bit of light shopping, a bento for lunch with lots of re-hydrating Calpico and then to Mum's for a slap-up Roast Lamb dinner. Awesome, I think you have to agree.

Alice. Well. I was a bit disappointed at our Imax seats... although the 3d effect was still very much watchable, I didn't get the full on effect because we arrived only ten minutes before gates opened so we didn't get great seats.

I'm not sure where to start. I left feeling slightly underwhelmed which was probably my own fault for a) not getting there early enough for some better seats and b) for being so freakin' excited about this for months. Still, Tim, as you would expect, didn't fail to disappoint in terms of visuals. So stunning and so familiarly-Burton-esque, it was like being welcomed back home. I loved the Queen of Hearts castle, so sumptuous and rich with beautiful deep colours and textures. Mr Depp was superb... and not quite as scary as he looks which I wasn't sure was a good thing or not. The story lacked punch, but you come to expect that from Burton and the visuals and characters more than made up for it. Alice was slightly more limp than I expected her to be, but then I don't know the story all that well having never read it. I think my favorite characters were the Cheshire Cat and the Caterpillar voiced excellently by Alan Rickman. You could almost touch and smell the smoke coming from him.

It was slightly slower paced than I expected, probably due to the story lacking slightly. Not as dark or scary as some of the trailers and marketing portrayed but the detail in some of the scenes and visuals made up for it.

Having been out and about this weekend I can see the film is already filtrating it's way into the shops. I've seen countless earrings with teacups, teapots and old victoriana style jewellery which have been obviously brought out to coincide with the film's release. Lots of shop windows slapping on playing card window stickers too, just to avoid feeling left out.

All in all... another visual feast from Mr Burton. I wasn't blown away... more comfortably satisfied that Burton had delivered exactly what I imagined he would for the settings and characters in the film. I would have loved to have seen what he could have done with the original story. Me thinks it would have made for a much darker and uncomfortable experience which is maybe what I craved in the first place. I would mark it at 7.8/10. Not his best, personally I don't believe his stop motion has ever been beaten by his live action films, but worth watching and enjoying just to be transported somewhere so colourful and sumptuous. Also definitely worth the 3d aspect for the falling down the hole scene which makes you feel like you're falling with along with her.

And then to follow it all in true style by rocking out at my favorite club. Perfect. :-)

Shooooes.

I have two pairs of shoes which are vying for the honour of being worn to see Alice In Wonderland on Saturday. Neither of these shoes have been to Rock Club yet either so that also needs to be sorted out. Fast. One pair, however, has visited my Grandparents... which wasn't the sort of place that heels are appreciated in all their glory. Quite the opposite in fact. I was told that they would "break my legs". Despite the scary ice cream faces... they wouldn't go that far. I thought that was a bit harsh. And funny. Still, in the interests of fairness and Yin and Yan, whichever pair get to go to the Imax won't be selected for Rock Club. It's a tough, tough world out there. Thank goodness I have my shoes.

By the way, my feet aren't as big as my head. It's a trick of the camera/perspective. I'll have you know I'm a size 4... or 5 depending on which shop or shoes I'm in.

In other matters, I got a letter at work today congratulating me on one year absence-free at work. How nice of them. So, I would like to thank my anti-bodies and immune system for looking after me for a year. Please don't give up the good work guys and gals.

Discovery of the day: Finding out that nose whistlers (you know that little nose whistle you here sometimes when people breathe? That irritating, constant, rhythmical, tuneless, benign whistle which signals there is SOMETHING blocking a nostril somewhere nearby) can distract me from reading and thinking about Johnny Depp AND increase my rage count by about 6.5. Blow.Your.Freakin.Nose... or get out of earshot in my train carriage. Thank you.

9 days.

I am counting down the days 'til I see Alice In Wonderland. I'm reeeally excited about this.

I have watched two different trailers twice in an attempt to make an effort to listen to the musical score after a conversation at work today... but each time I get soo sucked in by the visuals I can't even hear it! I guess a good film score adds to the emotion and feel of a film without you really noticing it... and if that's the case, then this is going to be one hell of a film.

Countdown.

Whyyyy does the week to payday go sooo slooooowly. Today was like five days all crammed into one... possibly something to do with the fact that I had 3 days of work to catch up on after taking some annual leave last week... but still. I get paid on Friday. And it's only Monday.

I'm going to see The Rocky Horror Show on Friday evening- but I don't think the usual Rocky Attire is very snow appropriate so I'll be pulling those skinny jeans on instead. And wearing snow shoes possibly. eek.

Material Goods.

Shit. I need to blog. In case anyone still reads... I have survived the snow.

I have no excuse. I'll be sitting on the train and see something wierd and think- blog it. But by the time I've got home, got changed and a mug of tea in my hand I've either forgotten said event or found something more boring-but-necessary to do. This sucks. I really need to get my phone synched to do this sort of stuff because there are things that happen on my commute that need to be blogged about. Things seen, heard, read... I mean we're talking really wierd stuff here.

I've spent alot of money since christmas. I have a lot of new clothes in my wardrobe which is good news. I have a couple of pairs of new shoes including some kick ass heels and some awesome patent platform ankle boots both of which will get an outing at Eddies in due course. Not at the same time though obviously. I have a replacement Mp3 player with some awesome ear phones that makes it sound like the music is coming from the very epicentre of my brain- this is very pleasing to me- I thank you Mr. Reznor for your delightful noise in my earphones. I also have a new wireless printer which does just about everything -scans, copies, prints photo's and can even do it's own graph paper. Not that I have much need for graph paper... but you never know- it could be vital one day.

Today I said goodbye to my brother who's gone back to live in Japan. Kinda wierd. So, now I need my friends to start having babies so I can play Auntie since I'm not going to get the opportunity with my brother's kids. Any takers?

Update for Mr Reznor

If you're reading this Trent... I have a few more covers recommendations to add:

• I Can't Dance by Genesis (You have to trust me on this one)
• Close To Me by The Cure
• All That She Wants by Ace of Base
• I Need You Tonight by INXS ( Go on, TELL me that wouldn't be amazing!)
• Lullaby by The Cure
• I Feel Loved by Depeche Mode
• Ashes to Ashes by Faith No More
• Discoteque by U2 (and they'd do a damn better version than Bono's little brain could ever comprehend or cope with)

On Candystripe legs...

(That's a quote from The Cure by the way).

It smells like Autumn. You can see more of the sky because there are no leaves left on the trees. It's fresh and crisp. I like it.

It's Bonfire night tomorrow. After that, it's officially christmas. Woop!

I have a total of 1 Christmas present bought so far. Not a flying start I admit, but it's a start. I know what christmas tree theme I'm having this year- Candystripe on my black tree. Tim Burton is going to bow to my fantastic candy stripe christmas tree. I have no decorations yet but I can already see how awesome it's going to be in my head. All will bask in it's glory. Well, I will anyway. I will be wrapping my presents to match of course as is the Slink quality standard.

In other, less stripey news, I have immersed myself in the familiar and comforting smell of Polymer clay fumes today. I've used some rare time off work to do what I love most... mess about with clay. I've missed just about everything about it... apart from how washing your hands every 20 minutes completely destroys your skin.

Ah well. It's good to be back. :-)

Uncomplete.

I haven't had the time to blog for months. I hate it, actually. Being busy is all well and good but it means months roll by and before you know it it's nearly christmas again.

I've been in my "was new" job for six months now and passed all my probationary wotsits so that's good news. Six months have absolutely flown by. I felt pretty out of sorts last week and I put it down to not being able to make stuff.

I don't feel complete. Working full time at a job with good earning potential and good long term prospects is the sensible thing to do. Hell I've got a pension for gawds sakes which I suppose is a good thing... but it means alot of my days are sucked into a meaningless blur of commuting and the hum of computers, shuffling papers and earning money to pay my bills. Necessary I guess but it's not allowing me room to be do what I do best. It's not allowing me to stretch my creative self and make stuff which is the only time I feel truly complete. Whole.

I have a project in mind which could take a few months. Once I get the materials I'll make a start on it not only because I want to but because I need to for the sake of my creative brain. My biggest fear right here in the moment is losing my creativity; losing my ability to make things would be like cutting both my arms off. If I'm not able to find time to make things then I might as well.

I miss blogland. I will make more of an effort.

Good Deed for the Day...

Helping a pregnant lady tie up her shoe lace on the train!

Smells.

I have a new job. I'm officially a commuter now- working in the city and travelling in by train every day.

This morning was quite an assault on the senses; or more specifically the nose.

First of all, the usual train smell is enough to be contending with- that musty, warm, burnt-fuel smell that sets you up for a full days work.

Next, a slightly-more-than-middle aged man gets on the train and sits behind me. Accompanying him is a wafty smell that comes and goes. I wasted a good few minutes trying to work out if it was parsnips, a cheap cologne- or what I prefer to call Man-Perfume- or possibly an expensive cologne that unfortunately smells of parsnips.

Off the train, and at New Street station is where the real onslaught begins. Straight away the smells of big, dirty trains, and probably plenty of big, dirty commuters too. Through the kiosks, passed the odd waft of various perfumes from passers by and up the escalators to the main shopping precinct, and now the nose goes into hyperdrive. First up is the warm smell of Subway. All subways smell the same, and it's never all that pleasant; not necessarily a bad smell but it certainly does NOT smell fresh. Next door is the fruit juice stand. Smells from here are far more interesting- varied, tangy, sweet and bitter all mixed into one strange smell, but you don't get chance to revel in it because right next door to that is the pretzel shop. This actually smells rather nice- it's a smell that reminds me of breakfast in New York and it makes me feel happily hungry. Out on the street, and it's full of fumes and traffic smells, dirt and unescapable nicotine clouds.

Even reaching my office building and I'm greeted by the smell of newly cleaned floors, photo copyer ink and heat, new paper, the odd coffee and bacon sandwhich, then finally, after it all... the comfort of slowly burning computer dust.

Thank you Mr Darwin.

It's been Darwin week on the BBC recently... and geez was THAT needed. In recent weeks I've noticed crazy christian beliefs sneeking into normal tv programs and it's pissed me off enormously. Now, I don't mind there being christian tv programs, I have no objection to Songs of Praise being on TV and advertised clearly so that I can avoid it like the plague, but I don't necessarily like it being not-so-subtly implanted into storylines and plots in regular tv programs like Eastenders and Holby city. The latter has obviously taken on some Church-going script writers in recent months and it became increasingly more comical and blatant by the week. Similarly, I can cope with Christian characters in TV land. What I object to are these "subtle" undertones of Faith and higher-self messages in plot lines. It's not big, it's not clever, it's down right irritating and not what I pay £135 a year for.

However, last week, the Beeb redeemed itself with a week of programs about the genius of Darwin (a fellow Midlander of course) and a man who we should ALL be grateful for bringing sense and reason to the world through science and fact. Ah sweet sweet fact and evidence.

I cannot even imagine how different the world would be if Darwin hadn't devoted his life to these studies... though I would have hoped that if he hadn't, someone else would have. How brave of him though, to actually come forward with his studies and present them to a world where free-thinking was considered dangerous and evil. Amazing man.

Snow Haiku

I went for a walk
Snow cushioned each step I took
still crunchy and soft.