July 31, 2008
This morning just before I woke up I dreamed I was in a stark grungy building. Molly Ringwald was there but she exploded. Then I had a glass of smoothie made from her remains. It tasted rancid and I thought “Maybe I should have cooked it first”
I had a twinge of nausea but that was probably when the cat stood on my stomach.
July 29, 2008
Ok, so it may sound like bad taste to refer to a dead person as Supercorpse but I mean it with the greatest affection. I refer to Heath Ledger. We gave him this name a few days after his passing, when a mixture news tributes and corpse-painted Joker publicity shots all jumbled into one in our fuzzy heads. The next night there was an earthquake which shuddered HF Femme’s bed across the floor and we surmised that it must be the Supercorpse returned and looking for company. The menfolk were confused – they did not understand the love me and Femme felt for Heath and thought we were being disrespectful. They are often confused by us.
I mention delightful Supercorpse because I saw The Dark Knight yesterday and he did somewhat steal the show. It’s easy to do with such a dramatic character but given the story is supposed to be the rise and fall of Harvey Dent I didn’t really notice him much in comparison. I loved the darkness of it all, focused in the Joker’s calculated violence. I have a habit of laughing when something particularly horrific is going to happen and I had a lot of laughs last night – not because it was funny, just deliciously good and pushed to new limits. I am surprised they went to the effort of keeping this film to a 12a rating. I suppose it proves that you don’t need to gore people to demonstrate evil (take that Eli Roth). The Joker’s manic whims and their destructive effects on the way people acted were far more evil than a blowtorch to the face.
I’m going to stop there as I’m a bit meandery from having 4 hours sleep. It has been unbelievably muggy (the cinema was a brief reprieve) and I got up at 1:30 to eat some refreshing chilled melon.
July 9, 2008
Ich habe hunger. Yes I do, burning a hole in my belly and my head. After last week’s no snacking at work between meals success I am now struggling as I enter the huge appetite phase of my hormone cycle. It feels weak to admit that my hormones have influence over me but their impact is impossible to ignore. Last night I ate a 150g bag of kettle chips after dinner. At the time I blamed the goodness of sweet vinegar.
I don’t usually read the Metro on the bus/train but I may start. In the last few weeks two headlines have grabbed my attention, one about unreported harassment of LGBT people and today’s follow-up on the guy the police mistakenly threw to the ground and pointed a gun at. I can’t say if they were doing this to show that young black men can be middle-class Oxford graduates or to show that racial profiling is ineffectual and wrong. I’ll keep my eye out for future headlines.
In more personal news the downturn of the economy has made it unfeasible for our landlord to sell our home so we don’t have to leave just yet. It will be a lot easier to house hunt when my dear one has a job. I still don’t want to stay in our current house for too long though, as certain factors make it an uncomfortable living space. My reaction to Housefolk Epsilon is getting worse. I think I am developing pronounced retard intolerance, like lactose intolerance, which makes anything he says hard for me to digest. When you are struggling to even make small talk with a person it’s easier to just steer clear. I usually only see him now when I’m cooking and am trapped in the room with his fearsome odour. BO that can overpower the smell of freshly chopped onion is extreme.
I don’t like feeling this way about a person. For predominently selfish reasons. Any time I have tried to reconsider he does something that makes me feel my dislike is justified. Any time he states the obvious about a film or tv show we are watching I cringe. Any time I try to make an excuse for him like only child syndrome or poor parenting I remember that he is an adult man and has control over himself. Any time he says anything right wing I want to simulatenously laugh and vomit about the stupidity and falseness of what he has said. I cannot live with this person any more. If I end up staying in my current house a while longer I will be counting the days until I can say goodbye to him forever.
June 27, 2008
After my last post complaining about the terrible food smells from someone else’s cooking I am deeply ashamed to say my food last night was awful. At first it didn’t smell so bad, just a bit ripe, but it remained until the spices were added and tasted a little rancid. I am amazed we didn’t get ill from it. My stomach has superhero levels of indestructibility – its only nemesis is milk.
Generally I don’t have to much to be ashamed of or embarrassed by. I was a little embarrassed when reading Anais Nin on the train. I was a little embarrassed by the sound of the vibrator so we put the TV on. I realised I would be embarrassed wearing a bikini in front of my mum, but I checked and I don’t have to do that. I find cooking for people intimidating.
I think I must be losing my mind – for an entire 45 seconds I considered moving to Milton Keynes.
June 16, 2008
Is what I have just finished having. I am quite sad it’s over, it was going well for a while there and the discovery of elderflower liqueur was a great one. The other great discovery was that there is a reason for the new series of Gladiators: it makes a fantastic drinking game. The rules were to drink when someone strikes a pose, says something cheesy or fails utterly. It was phenomenal.
I have not seen the Hulk movie that came out a few years back because I was busy inhaling paint thinner but did tag along with the gang to see this new one. I think you would get a similar experience if you went to see a cage fight while listening to a premium rate chat line. The movie is literally all fight/chase/fight scenes interspersed with moments of breathy dialoge from Liv Tyler who sounds like she’s been bricked in the face. As much as she sounded like a retard it also bugged me that soldiers were constantly moving her round calling her ‘miss’ when as daughter of the general they would all have known that her name was DR Ross. Nothing like respect in the army…
After the weekend’s overly full house (in which I was seventh in line for the throne, godsdamnit) we are now down to a more reasonable number, in exchange for a guest we have lost one of the housefolks who has run away to join the army. Whether he’ll come back in one piece or not is unknown – I’m not sure if he is adequately prepared for the rigours of the marines’ fitness test so I hope he doesn’t die. Before he left he played me a recording of a poem called ‘You can’t’ by someone who I think spells her name Salena Duggens. It’s a fantastic poem expressing distain for the widespread apathy infecting the nation. I loved it muchly but I don’t know where it came from and my very basic websearches have yielded nothing.
I am feeling poor at the moment. I must do things to improve my situation – all I’ve managed in the last year is to take about 700 off my overdraft which isn’t very much and it is almost the birthingsday of significant other and in order to make a fitting tribute I may have to dent that again. I hate to have to be concerned with money. The lowest point of my poverty when I was a student without loan money and hadn’t landed a summer job yet (which had to start in april I was that poor) was when I realised I had almost worn through the ass of my trousers and it was really cold (too cold for skirts, of which I had two) but couldn’t afford to buy new trousers, even primark trousers, because I had only just enough money for modest food. It sounds daft, oh no, no trousers for me today, I was hardly homeless or without support if I’d needed it, but the first time you look at your budget and think wow, I do kinda need this but if I got it I can’t have food, it really freaks you out and gives you a little taste of what it’s like to really be poor. Now I know I spend a little too much on what I like, particularly in the supermarket, because I hated the feeling of restriction. I could be creating savings but instead I am eating my money as a reassurance that I can afford that luxury. It’s probably time I got over that feeling, at least to make my use of food more efficient.