Friday, May 23, 2003

Sober Entry

Romeo and Juliet
Are together in eternity...

Mood : Cold and twitchy
Music : My Deja Vu - Ace of Base

Ok time for an entry when I'm actually in a fit state of consciousness to do something other than quote poetry at you and reccomend you play board games and read other people's journals. Though I still reccomend others, and of course Monopoly if it's raining or you're just bored, bu really, I do occasionally write something worth reading. Right, bar crawl - I am going to be getting powder out from under my nails for the next week at least. Those wigs were a royal pain the first tme around, what posessed me to choose a LUBBS name like "Amadeus" anyway?

Oh, that was it. It suits me.

I was considering swiftly changing my name to Opera Ghost for the come-as-your-screen-name barcrawl but decided against it. I'd have preffered Phantom and we already have one, though I have never met them myself. Figures really. Anyway, after getting horrifically drunk, possibly being incredibly offensive, puerile and annoying, definitley being a weepy drunk (I put it down to a week's abstinence, the exam, and time of the month) I got soaked, and now I'm shivering. I couldn't sleep, so I sat on LUBBS and debated religion. Like someone I try not to mention says, whatever gets you through the night. I also seem to recall that I phoned Mousewouse. I only hope I didn't leave a message on her answerphone or something.

I had fun I guess. As much fun as bar crawls ever are these days at least. This time I backed out of the game quickly because last week evidently actually damaged something so now my leg pretty much permenantly aches. Silly me. I think I'll give the next few weeks a miss, not only will my liver thank me in the end, I just don't seem to really enjoy it anymore, maybe it's some sort of misplaced ennui or something but it all seems a little same-old-same-old now. Maybe I'm just getting old, or maybe I just need a hug. Or maybe I'm not as sober as I thought I was.

Or maybe I'll try this again later....

Thursday, May 22, 2003

The Final Countdown

I have stood here before in the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain

Mood : Quietly panicking
Music : Smashing Pumpkins - The World Is A Vampire

Firstly, congratulations to Awesome Man who got the artist of my lyrics yesterday right. It was originally by Dune, the version I have is a remix by DJ Liquid, and the song is "I Can't Stop Raving" - some of you may know today's by the cover artist or the orginal, either will do. Thanks go to Dark Ambition (the artist formerly known as The Unboxed Helena) for pointing out that today 'blogger is advertising goth music downloads on the Doll's House main page banner. They're reading my mind - the Entroposcope went haywire this afternoon. The LURPS/PULSAR Effect probably set it off.

I had a really odd dream the other night. Well it wasn't really all that odd considering I had spent the whole damn day revising Romanticism and listening to a loop of Disney songs (and they weren't even sung by the Inimitable Mr Crawford, they were orginals...) then when I went to sleep (you know, that thing where you close your eyes and then open them, someone has turned the light on in the big room with the really good air conditioning, and you have keymarks in your face?) and dreamed about Beauty And The Beast redone live action with Shelley in a dress playing Belle. I think it was because I was starting to think "Look there she goes that girl is strange no question, I wonder if she's feeling well. With a dreamy far off look, and her nose stuck in a book" everytime I read Shelley. Nobody was noticing that it was a bloke in a dress! POET IN A DRESS POET IN A DRESS!!!!! Ok sorry it's out of my system now. Gaston was being played by the DWB, which was alright I suppose. Could have been worse, the Beast could have been played by Lord Wuss.

For a long while, I had a real problem with "Kill The Beast" - well I still do, it frightens me to death - but the problem was I was sure it was the wrong voice leading the mob. At first I thought perhaps it was a different voice actor - but it's not, then I though, maybe I think Gaston shouldn't be leading the mob. Yeah. Right. What's he going to do, go take the Beast by himself? He's a musclehead and a letch but he's not stupid. That would be Raoul you're thinking of there** - but now I have realised why it sounds so wrong.

You see, the voice of Gaston in Beauty And The Beast is the same man who originally played the Phantom in the Y/K version. The reason it sounds so wrong is that voice should be being chased by a mob, not leading one. Interesting, that, isn't it? The Phantom, voicing Gaston, Gaston Leroux wrote Phantom - stories are incredibly similar? There's a POTO moment in The Little Mermaid as well, you know, when Ursula the seawitch is telling Ariel to sing?

"The Law of Fives must be true. It becomes more applicable the more I look for it"

But in any case, the decsion over whether I should go to the ceremony so far stands thus;

FOR M'amselle, Puppydog, Louis the Wonderspod, Awesome Man, Monsieur le Vicomte, Shortbread, The Jellicle
AGAINST (Or undecided) Me

Well. Those are interesting odds. Oh well - I think for now I will concentrate on relaxing before my exam. By this weekend there will probably be more pictures of me dressed like a fool to look at, so watch for the link. And I may have forgotten to mention this, but I updated Purely Derivative recently, and you will get another update next Tuesday. And the one after that. All the rest is subject to change without notice.

** Oh come on, let me off. I haven't bashed Raoul for ages....

Wednesday, May 21, 2003

Oh Blue Bloody Hell...

Come and take a trip with me
To a land where love is free
Follow me into the light
Everything's gonna be alright

Mood :Moderate and inexplicable self hatred
Music : Heaven's Light, Hunchback of Notre Dame

You have no idea how shocked I will be if someone manages to get my lyrics for today. I'll give you a clue - try music that you don't think I would listen to in a million years and you're halfway there. I was wondering whilst I did the usual round of people's 'blogs just now, if somehow the advertisers on the banners at the top have a way of reading people's interests. Ell, for example, has adverts for Discworld products at the top of hers fiarly often, and I've seen Majick stores online being advertised on Erfalaswen's 'blog more than once. Also Mousewouse has several times had Gothic clothing emporia advertised on hers. I however seem unreadable, as I get adverts regarding dolls house collection websites and such which bears no relation to me apart from the name of this site and my purported resemblance to Juliet Landau. Perhaps it's synchronicity again? *gets out jar of lentils and rice and gives it a shake* Hmm... nope, the usual randomised pattern. Guess the sky isn't going to fall on my head after all. Or a car.

Speaking of things falling on my head, look above my fair and currently tightly braided head, gentle interloper into the domains of the VVR. What do you see there? No, not that enormous chandelier, that isn't meant for me - the huge sword is what I mean, the one hanging by a horsehair. That sword has a name you know, in the fantastic Romantic tradition, and that name be Romanticism Final. It's this Friday, I can see the hair fraying even as I sit trying in vain to struggle against my revulsion and get through The Prelude. I'm at that stage where I feel there's nothing more I can do.

I *hate* that...

Tuesday, May 20, 2003

Pre-Traumatic Excitement Disorder

I dream in colour
Because I live in black and white

Mood : Exitably studious
Music : Mozart, Mass in C Minor

So I'm talking to Awesome Man on MSN, and the subject of the fact that I have been sent an invitation to the prize ceremony for that KSMT call for papers that I entered comes up. I, dear readers, am not planning on going. It will cost me 40 of your Earth pounds and consign me to flames of woe, otherwise known as 3 hours on British Rail, a confutatis maledictus indeed. More to the point, despite how excited and proud I would be if I *did* win anything, I never set out to win, I set out to do something because I could, and if I get a prize, money, publication and acclaim for it all the better, but frankly I am not going to a ceremony where I'm not going to be presented with a prize, selfish aren't I? Not wanting to make an expensive, uncomfortable, long journey to see other people get lauded for what I might have achieved. A hint of bitterness crept in there, I'd just like to refute it.. there's just no better way of putting it!

So Awesome Man tells me he thinks I should go. Ceremony + free meal + free bubbly + happy wife = Smiley Rat, prize or no prize. I totally agree with him. But the likelihood of me being able to eat a meal, even if the KSMT are as progressive and natural as the S in KSMT, are very small. and there's still that train-journey-from-Hell called Lancaster-Euston that makes me wish fondly for the Carpathians. Yes, I think I should go - but I'm not going unless I've won something. Sorry.

But what if I *have* won something? Even if it's a wooden spoon.... I've emailed Sally to see if she knows if they only send invitations to prizewinners or what, so I shall wait on that one. The question which has yet to be adressed is the highly important issue of what I'm going to wear to the ceremony!

I want to look Romantic of course, but not like I'm in a Jasper Fforde novel. I'll have to look smart, but not formal, and I want to be comfortable in it if I'm going to be quaffing champagne with other literary types - nothing that will be easily disarranged and just look stupid. I'm thinking something that clearly says "I am not of this age, or of the last, I am of all ages and times. I have an easy style without pretentions and you really do want to publish my articles and poems, but I'm not some desperate Shelley Freak" so I suppose my traditional wide collars and velvet are out, as if the evening dress suit. Perhaps something understated and handmade from Dark Angel designs..... no, can't afford that.... *sigh* wide collar with a smart skirt? No, I look like an innocent little secretary. Oh *bugger* this... I'm not going, alright? They send invitations to everyone who entered I'm telling you.

Still... I'm rather excited at the idea that I *have* won something....
Ooh Heck...

Something horrid has happened to my 'blog - yesterday's entry is nonsensically cut down less than a third of the way down when it was appearing fine when I went to bed at 8am today (after Sunrise Rite of course....) so I've no idea what's going on. Umm... I think I'll just post this and see what happens....

Monday, May 19, 2003

Fluffbunny : Word Of The Day

Shiny shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark

Look... a guestbook to answer my lyrics puzzles in... *mindless self-promotion alert!* Well anyway kids consider this your Sunday Column. Your dear old VVR was too busy consorting with its one and only mistress (I need no other) to write one yesterday.

Did you ever wonder if people were saying things about you behind your back? Not in the paranoid sense I mean, but in the mindless in-a-nice-hot-lavender-bath-reading-Baudelaire sense, where you wander aimlessly through Thought County eventually ending up at a quaint little hamlet named Self Image, where you find a quiet pub and order a frosty mug of Introspection.

Everybody says things about people behind their back - I did it only this evening - and it set me wandering into Kant Plains, a short meander from that quiet pub, where I frollicked introspectivly (it's possible, watch any Goth club on a Friday Sisters marathon) and became intoxicated with the heady scent of the blooms of a strange tree. Its name was Universal Maxim. The odd, sharp scent of this rare blossom created a wierd desire in me. I was thinking - if *everybody* says things behind people's backs - and they do - then wouldn't it be nice if we were to make it a universal law that you should only say *nice* things.

Perhaps I sound like the namby-pamby Romantic fluffbunny that I KNOW you all call me.. *sob, wink*... but hear me out. We should be saying good things - but never at the expense of honesty. If you think Malcolm has been terribly nasty to Martin, then you should be saying that, but perhaps saying "Malcolm is the antichrist, I can't believe he dumped Martin right before the dance, the cunt" is a little excessive. Of course, better yet you could just tell Malcolm in the nicest way possible, but I don't think mankind is quite ready for that particular innovation yet.

A marvelous things happened to me today. I realised - for perhaps the first time - that the graffiti on toilet walls sometimes has true philosophical intent. This evening the scales fell from my eyes as I sat in the toilets of Furness college. I was actually going to the toilet you understand, not just sitting there. I glanced at the wall beside me - and behold! - people arguing against organised religion! I bounded downstairs to tell Byron who was lounging across the seats of the bar below in a drunken stupor, not forgetting of course to wash my hands first, she delivered her usual tolerant smile, and I discovered that 3 Years Lucy was subjected to some sort of Godwinist polemic on Friday night which my memory had completely blanked out. Just the drugs... just the drugs...

But in any case - isn't that wonderful? People care - people care enough to take a pen to the lavatory for it! Well that settles it, I know where I can take my essays now. Perhaps it will spawn a new variant on a graffiti hallmark of which I was reminded tonight - you know the old writing on the toilet paper dispenser "Lancaster University Degrees - Please Take One"

"Vegetarian Polemics, Anti-Organisational Essays, General Romantic Fluff - Please take One"