P.S.

Apologies to all who know me who have had the misfortune to encounter me over the last few days.

I'm tired, in a grump and generally feeling and being foul.

But come the weekend my real., cheery, enthusiastic self will emerge from this withered carcass like a butterfly.

How amazing is this?

I've just discovered www.foundmagazine.com, where people scan and send messages, letters and notes that they've found.

While in Bergamo this summer I picked up loads of negatives that were lying on the ground near our hotel. I will endeavour to find and scan them.

Mitchell and Webb support Apple

Have you seen this advert? It's on your Myspace home page, if you have one. As I don't know which one is Mitchell and which one is Webb, I'll refer to them as The Plump One and The Ginger One.

In this advert The Ginger One is dressed in jeans and a black jumper, looking casual, while The Plump One is in work-wear, a suit. They have a conversation in which The Plump One tells the other how he wishes his home life was run more like his office.

The Plump One represents the PC and The Ginger One represents Macs.

For Godsake. I love Macs and would never use a PC if I could help it. But for Godsake.

Welcome back, stress

A few days at a new school and my almost-tidy study area has become a ridiculous mess. I think it is true to say that this area is a reflection of my mind. My habit when I feel like this is to snuggle up inside a hoodie, with the hood up, and mope about the house, preferably supping a cup of tea and dunking biscuits. We have no biscuits and it is too late for tea.

Instead, I will pretend I don't have to plan starters and worry about fast-approaching commitments and application dead-lines, and give an account of my walk into town on Friday night.

There are days when things just seem slightly more unusual than you might expect.

It was dark, around 8pm and I had just reached the car park for the university sports centre. A car was parked by the kerb and I noticed a stocky man leaning forward in the driving seat with his head in his hands. He looked devastated. As I walked past I turned around to look through the windscreen and saw that there was a girl in the passenger seat, looking slightly distanced. She looked at me looking.

I crossed the road, and the floodlights for the all-weather pitches were on full-beam and all the birds were singing a dawn chorus. As I looked ahead, five teenager-sized people approached. The tallest was wearing a balaclava through which you could only see his eyes, but two smaller kids were wearing ski-masks in addition to balaclavas and you couldn't see their faces at all. Two twelve-year old boys were at the back of the group, unmasked, looking excited, enjoying themselves. I gave one of them a funny look.

Trees

This is the ace tree fabric I got in Newcastle. Well, Gateshead actually, but I won't use that kind of language here. The black tree goes on and on and on . . . It would make a pretty cool blind or something.

Ambitions

At school on Friday an English teacher whose voice and mannerisms remind me of Andrew Lincoln asked me why I was training to be a teacher. I said, deadpan, "The starting salary and the holidays," before pretending I was joking and mumbling on about being in denial because my parents are teachers. I wasn't joking. And I'm hugely jealous of people who have a sense of vocation and follow it.

I wonder what I'd do if I didn't have to work . . .

Yesterday evening was interesting.

We were in the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester for the second time in as many weeks to see Bonny Prince Billy and before the show kicked off, I spotted someone that I totally hero-worshipped about ten years ago and fell out of contact with (back before the pre-ubiquity of cellular and digital communication). I must have been staring for ages before I marched up and said, "Are you ________?" Great opener, I know, and to his credit he didn't look remotely freaked out, despite the fact that he didn't have a clue who I was till I told him.

Anyway, it was pretty strange. I was an exceedingly angsty young girl when I knew him and I can't imagine how different I would seem now to someone who knew me pretty well. I think I will suggest us each writing a short essay about what we remember of the other before we meet up. It could be interesting.

Being young and malleable of mind, this person made quite an impact on my life, and I've often wondered where he might be and what he was doing... How bizarre.

You can see the tickets I made for Alex's night on his website.

It's still snowing. Though not very heavily.

Finally

It's snowing!

Yesterday was semi-disastrous on a number of fronts.

Our landlord came round for the rent cheques yesterday. Our contract ends in March, but I assumed that we'd be able to stay on for another year. He started going on about selling his current house at some point (but didn't say he'd be moving here) blah blah blah and told me he'd know around February. It's pretty irritating not knowing either way, and there will be properties out there we can move into, but actually having the opportunity to look round is another matter. Last year I only had a part-time job, this year I'll be in a school miles away.

Which brings me onto "The Yell's Future Plans". The band have been told by the man from Marquis Cha Cha that they need to quit their jobs and go on the dole! He seduced them with the idea of having "The Yell" Converse (which I joked they would be making themselves to pay back the £500 or whatever they've had from the record company so far). Unfortunately I won't be on a decent wage for a long time yet, and while I'd like to be able to support Ian's dreams, it seems a little far-fetched.

It's all academic anyway. Their gig last night at the Casbah ended shambolically and with a lot of ill feeling. To sum up, Dan (singer) started slagging off Dan (bass) on stage and ordering him and James (guitar) about. This culminated with Dan (singer) actually fiddling with Dan's bass in the middle of the song, while he was playing it, and pulling out his lead (I think). Dan was rightfully incensed, took off his bass and went backstage.

Later on, I got called a "knobhead" by an odious man (who I've termed "the only gay in the village", to give you an idea about his persona) who was wearing shiny spandex leggings with a visible hole in the anus-area under some partially-present jeans.

So at 1am we were running through pouring rain with half a drum kit (I was using the snare as an umbrella) trying to find a black cab without much luck.

God.

I lied

Joanna Newsom didn't play Sprout and the Bean in Manchester at all. She played Bridges and Balloons, The Book of Right On, Sadie, Peach Plum Pear, Crab Cockle Whatever, a new one and a Scottish folk song.

Celebrity Big Brother: the racism debate

There was a hilarious moment on Big Brother before. Jade was sitting in the diary room, attempting to justify calling Shilpa by stupid names, before declaring, "If I've offended some Indian people then I'm sorry . . ." If only she knew that she's hated by 1 billion people! It's going to be interesting seeing how the public and media respond to Jade and Danielle when they emerge from the relative safety and state of oblivion that The House is providing . . .

I made the tickets for Alex ShadowPlay's night at the Raynor Lounge next Friday, and I went to show him the prototypes last night. The odd thing is, Alex lives in the house that I inhabited in my second and third years of university (ie Sept '01 to June '03), and an unpleasant nervousness came over me as I got nearer to the house. Not because of Alex, of course! But because those weren't the best years of my life by a hefty chalk. I think maybe I exorcised some demons by going there and having a look round though, especially as so much about the place has been changed. It doesn't have the same dank, dismal atmosphere that seemed to occupy the rooms when I lived there.

Strange times.

I nearly wrote "exercised some demons" above, which has put strange images in my mind of me trying to encourage overweight monsters into doing a cardiovascular workout or something.

Joanna Newsom

This was such an unusual and lovely experience. It was the second time I've seen Joanna Newsom, and on the first occasion it was almost too intense. As one of our mates put it, "In the whole world there was Joanna Newsom, me and her harp." Which is good, but not for such a long time. This time though, the Northern Symphonia accompanied the first half of the show, and when they started playing "Emily" my spine was all a-tingle (and tingled throughout the song). The songs are so lullaby-like that they had almost a soporific effect, in the best possible way.

Going to see a "gig" in a venue that feels more like a concert hall is quite strange, but in a way that I like, and the way Joanna Newsom blurs the line between our expectations of a normal "gig" and a classical concert is really interesting: the first half was conducted as if "Ys" was a classical piece, except for JN's "thank you"s following the applause. Then the second half was full of improvisations and deviations from the recorded versions of songs, like the folk tradition.

Songs like "Bridges and Balloons" and "Sprout and the Bean" seemed to lack something, I thought, just because JN's using her voice differently. Perhaps it's just to protect her voice, but she also made reference to being off-colour, or it could be a stylistic choice. Who knows?

Anyway, ignore my little criticisms: it was still transfixing and amazing.

I'm disconcerted that anyone could presume that I was a greedy person from reading my blog. I suppose I'm greedy for ideas and nice things (like interesting fabrics and bamboo knitting needles), but certainly not for money.

Ticket touting is against the law, and even if it wasn't, there's a massive difference between selling on things that are no longer used to someone who wants them for a price they choose to pay, and buying up items you don't want in order to sell them on for a profit. A lot of people did the same thing when the Wii came out and I think it's wholly dishonest.

So there.

Ticket Touts

The number of tickets being sold for the "sold out" Arcade Fire gigs is astonishing. People on eBay are selling tickets that had a face value of £17 for at least three times that amount, and frankly, I can't understand how they get away with it. It's blatantly obvious that these people are touts, you only have to look at their feedback, and yet they aren't being punished for it at all.

In some ways, eBay is a great socialist tool, whereby things are sold based on their value to others.

On the other hand it brings out such greed
in people that it makes me despair.

Inspector Morse

On Wednesday, I caught a bit of Inspector Morse and in it I was surprised to see : the Demon Headmaster, Billy from Eastenders, Josh from Casualty and that pathologist from the first series of Waking the Dead.

Bits and bobs

Thank God Leo is gone. It seems to me that he wanted to avoid being booed out of the house and scarpered instead. Silly little man. It was hilarious hearing him agree with Germaine that he could be ranked alongside the Stones and the Beatles. "Yeah, I do belong to that group."

Anyway, to more relevant matters. Today was my final day at M___ School. I somewhat nervously left a questionnaire in the Senior Liaison Tutor's pigeon-hole, on which I had written that my mentor should have completed my review with reference to my evidence and instead I'd been left out of the matter completely. Oh well. It might annoy my mentor a bit, but I don't think they're likely to blacken my name on the internet or anything. Speaking of which, jobs I have to apply for are already turning up. These next few months are going to involve mountains of job applications, nerves and disappointments. It's going to be strange being up against friends and aquaintances from the course. . .

I'm feeling tired and stressed just thinking about it. I'll go and check on my eBay items to cheer myself up. My 4-track has loads of watchers and bids--it's very exciting! I suppose it's like gambling without much risk or loss of money on my part.

Ikea/TV

Ikea

I meant to make a point about Ikea. At the moment "Ikea" seems to be a byword for unimaginative, low-quality, pleb goods. I beg to differ. Ikea has revolutionised lives by selling us things that are not only well-designed for their purpose but are funky and attractive too. Before Ikea, home furnishings were completely dreadful. Yes, even Laura Ashley, which has since been rejuvenated. Now everyone gets excited about redesigning their living spaces. This is Ikea's lasting legacy. All hail.

Television

I am a self-confessed TV nut. I watch loads and loads of TV, and unashamedly too.

Recently, however, the standard of programmes on television has been quite poor. Even over Christmas. Now, things have thankfully changed, in the main due to American imports. There's a new series of Desperate Housewives (I was completely hooked on the first series, but lost interest very quickly in the badly-written follow-up), a new series of ER on E4 (I missed the first one due to lesson-planning but hopefully I'll catch up) and a new new series: Ugly Betty. I didn't have high hopes for this because of the adverts--everything looked so artificial and superficial. In actuality there was a nice (albeit undemanding) depth to the programme. You're sympathetic to Betty rather than laughing at her, and she isn't as naive, ditsy and ineffectual as the adverts made out. I like her, goddammit!

Also on the box is the return of Celeb Big Brother. I dislike the normal versions of Big Brother and managed to completely avoid knowing anything at all about the last series apart from the fact that the winner, Pete, had tourette's. Big Brother avec Celebs is a different kettle of fish and really makes me laugh. The dynamic is totally different. These people are already in the public eye (well, slightly) and because they're "known" they aren't playing the same game as the non-celebrities, whereby anyone who shows personality is voted off. Also, by virtue of the fact that these "celebrities" are successful and/or (quasi-)famous, they are interesting to watch. If I had an interest in watching non-celebrities talk shit I'd ingratiate myself with the twat who lives next door and go to his "raves".

I'm aware that I've used far too many inverted commas in this post, so I'll leave it there.

New series of Waking the Dead starts tonight - woo hoo!

Future eBay millionaire

Yes, I've just listed two items on eBay: an old mobile phone and my virtually unused 4-track. It took me ages to do. I'd get so bored of going through the listing rigmarole if I had an eBay business. Anyway, I'll now be obsessed with checking My eBay to see if anyone has viewed my items.

The reason for doing this is an attempt to declutter the tiny box room that serves as my study/workroom. Me and Ian went to the Leeds Ikea yesterday for my birthday treat and were looking at possible "storage solutions" for my room (I hate the way the word "solutions" is used in current promotional speech), should we be staying in this house for another year. I'm not optimistic that anything can be done, given that I have too many interests and too much stuff. Watch this space.

Freecycling (www.freecycle.org)


No, this isn't like "free running" but with bikes. There was a bit about it in the Guardian yesterday in their "Getting stuff for free" booklet. For me it's not so much about getting free stuff as not putting things that are perfectly useful in the bin. There are always charity shops, but there seems much more chance of things being reused if they have been asked for or offered directly. So I'm going to find out if there's a freecycling group in Sheffield.

I am a bit of an environmental nut. My brother has pinpointed the moment: I came home from school aged 11 wearing a massive "light monitor" badge and irritated everyone by constantly turning off all the lights. Actually, I'm quite bad for leaving lights on now, because all but a few are energy-saving lightbulbs and you stop worrying about it so much.

Apparently, all plastics except for polystyrene can be recycled, even plastic bags, so Sheffield-dwelling people can recycle almost every piece of plastic they come into contact with, including food packaging. However, recycling centres are virtually non-existant in England's greenest city, and since the closure of the recycling bins at Crookesmoor House, the bins at Tapton Halls of Residence are often too full. In Newcastle there seem to be recycling bins all over the place, and yet the doorstep collection service is so picky as to be almost entirely pointless. It won't even take envelopes.

Home Composting

The best recycling system I use is a compost bin, and everyone with a garden should have one. Even houses of students and young professionals. I got ours by googling "compost bin offer sheffield" and ending up on the recyclenow.com website. You can get a bin for £4 (no P&P), you can put loads of stuff in it (eggshells, cardboard, receipts and teabags as well as normal green waste) and it cuts down how often you take the bin out by a shocking amount. My mum and dad, who've always had compost heaps and makeshift bins, were so surprised by how efficient the proper bins are. It takes about 6 to 9 months for everything to be completely composted and then all you need to do is spread it over the garden.

Seriously guys, get a compost bin and watch the worms multiply.

It's been a strange slightly anti-climactic start to the New Year. It was my 25th birthday yesterday, and I usually spend the day feeling miserable and wallowing because it's such a horrible time of year to be celebrating: you've already assessed the year previous and looked to the year ahead, everyone's skint, still hungover or ill or on holiday, it's dark and miserable outside, and it just generally stinks. This year, however, I've been too busy attending university sessions and stressing out about an assignment to much think about it, which has been a kind of unepected blessing. I went out for a meal last night, but it won't feel like my birthday until the weekend I think, by which time I can properly rela (certain keys aren't working on my keyboard after I spilt tea on it last week).

New Year's Eve was fun if bizarre. I spent it at Bungalows and Bears on Division St, formerly a crap bar, formerly a fire station. It's nice inside. Annabel found £20 on the floor and Rough Disco were DJing. Later the guy from The Rapture who hits the cowbell (I know) was DJing, but it was his DJ partner who played House of Jealous Lovers and made the crowd really dance and yell. Even better was when he played Rebellion by Arcade Fire: everyone was bellowing the words, shrieking "lies! lies!" and singing the violin part. It was great!

Oh well. A lesson to get sorted for tomorrow - my last at this school. I'm a bit troubled by the fact that my mentor seems in no hurry to complete my review and is showing no interest in me whatsoever, but hey.