Monthly Archives: June 2009

Shadowy – Girly


As someone who enjoys the “delights” of wrestling, gets excited over science-y things, wears trousers more frequently than skirts and demands a certain quality of Ferrari to impress her, I do not consider myself much of a girly girl. However, my need to fulfil my inner information geek means that I read about what I consider to be the dark arts of makeup as I am fairly inexperienced with it and have had way too many disasters to count. Products don’t work as they say on the tin or just not on me; I am fairly fed up of money being wasted.

Needless to say, this is what I would consider an extra self-indulgent girly post.

I have oily skin and a lot of the makeup i’ve tried slides off my face after a half hour or so; i’m therefore a shiny motherfucker and am frequently embarrassed at having to wipe off a phone or camera I might have borrowed in order to remove the layer of grease deposited by myself. Niiice.

In the past I have relied on Make Up For Ever and their Aquarelle liquid colour to give myself overly bright eyes as I found it sticks to my skin fairly well and is available in a beautiful shade of metallic mallard green. This weekend after a fair bit of researching on Teh Internets I made a discovery that has had me painting all sorts of colours on my eyelids with merry abandon: Eyeshadow Primer Potion by Urban Decay.

It’s basically a silicone base for the shadow to sit on that appears to soak up grease, even out the surface and provide something for the shadow to stick to; it’s a neutral shade of beige (neutral for Caucasians I guess) that you poke onto your eyelids with a fuzzy-tipped wand and then blend in using a finger. You can then get going with the eyeshadow.

Wonder of wonders after the Primer Potion went on my mint green shadow managed to stay put through several hours spent either on a very warm Tube, wandering through a very warm Lahndahn tahn and lots and lots of smiling due to MW#1-related Happy. It did not budge. I was AMAZED.

I’m a less shiny fuck due to the lightweight joys of Benefit’s Some Kinda Gorgeous (Thanks Dave) and I can just about get eyeliner to stick on, albeit with some weird creasing, thanks to Bare Escentuals Weather Everything, which is like a flexible sealant.

Of course, despite my technological fight against my greasy nature, I am still not very skilled at application- the blending, where I actually place the makeup etcetera. What sort of art teacher am I…?

Tomorrow evening i’m attending the Year 13 Leaver’s Ball and i’m planning to go all out with fascinator, wedges, prom dress and lots of over the top eye makeup. I hope they’ve got air con…
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Thirty – Hawksmoor – Steak – Sadness


It’s the evening after the morning and night before; after a lovely night and morning I am feeling slightly glum…

The night before: It was MW#1’s thirtieth birthday and to mark the event I decided to take him out for dinner in Lahndahn tahn to a place that specialised in a foodstuff that is very important to him- meat. Well, more specifically steak, and plenty of it. I kept where we were going a secret; after a short wander along a disturbingly be-chain restauranted Commercial Road we arrived at the very non-descript Hawksmoor, supposedly the purveyor of the best steak in London.

I had wanted to go there for a while, fancying the thick gorgeous steaks if not the prices; I had cut back on my spending throughout the month so I could take him there and it was a damn good job I had done so… Two appetiser drinks, two starters, one bottle of Californian syrah, two steaks with associated chips, two desserts and two glasses of dessert wine came to a mind bending total of nearly £200. I had thought we might spend around £150 but was fairly mortified when the bill was presented… at least it included the service charge :)

The food: I had scallops with asparagus and samphire to start whilst he had potted beef with gherkins; I had a 600g bone-in sirloin whilst he had an enormous porterhouse that clocked in at 850g. Crazy prices, crazy steaks… and what steaks they were… large, juicy, well-seasoned i.e. with nothing much added; the fat on my steak was melt-in-the-mouth, which is something I had never encountered before.

I enjoyed watching MW#1 excitedly dissecting his lump of cow like it was some sort of project to complete; I let the side down by managing to eat around half of mine before having to give up and donate the remaining portion across the table to the barbarian sat opposite me. I really needed someone to bring out a chaise longue for me to recline upon for a half hour or so (very Roman) but alas none appeared, so I resorted to holding my steak overwrought stomach and giving it a gentle rub.

Once the steak was devoured it was on to dessert (there’s always room for dessert). I had lemon posset whilst he had chocolate mousse; I became rather over excited upon the eating of my posset, marvelling aloud at the deliciously sharp explosions going on on my tongue and generally being excitable at this new experience. Eeee…

Our conversation covered items such as not touching pregnant bellies, abortion rights, Mormonism, being a leader, people = sheep, religion as crutch for the weak, my problems of over analysis and ranting at the world, Michael Jackson, high horsing and the languages of Iran. After dinner as we wandered towards the neon-insanity of Brick Lane I was quiet and happy; he took my non-talking (I talk a lot!) as a sign that he had offended me on one of our conversation topics. I found this amusing in that he always seems to apologise for offence he has caused when he hasn’t actually upset me but never apologises when he has offended me. His offence standards are all out of whack when it comes to me.

Out of whack:

Being completely impersonal to me at the beginning of the evening and the morning hug goodbye. Falling asleep and waking up in his arms. Walking next to him feeling distant. Wrapping me up in a hug so I can sleep on the train home. Gingerly putting an arm around my waist. Time spent in my company apparently making him feel happy. Seeing me infrequently and on his terms for periods of no more than twenty-four hours. Enjoying seeing me get excited over things, be in my own world. Being “booked up” for a whole two months. Delighting in my overhang and my “smallness”. Barely being kissed.

Sometimes I wish I did not think so much, as maybe then I wouldn’t be so bothered about these contradictions. I feel dissatisfied and in countless ways; I also feel a little like I am being “kept on” for entertainment and comfort purposes. I am clearly not a leader but a complete sheep when it comes to love…

The steaks were glorious, and he appeared happy on his birthday outing. This should be a result.
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Jackson


I was supposed to be getting an early night this evening after a few hours of post-work working but I have spent the last half hour hitting refresh to see if a part of my childhood is going to be taken away in the form of Michael Jackson’s corpse…

This is going to be interesting… like my generation’s death of Elvis. His life was a difficult one, however his presence looms large over my memories of my childhood. My brother was really into him in that way that little boys were before his inappropriate relationships with little boys came to the fore. I feel sad, despite everything.
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SIX


SIX

Happy Birthday to ME! by *spudballoo* [cc]


nopokemeo is SIX!


Nice to see upon re-reading the early stuff that I can string a sentence together rather better and that my spelling is improved thanks to the invention of inline spell checking on Firefox. Less nice to see that I am writing about the same problems, six years on. Progress has most definitely been made but I wonder nonetheless…
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To go


I have six weeks to go until the end of term and I cannot wait to be free to sleeeep; unfortunately before I reach this point I have to mark all my classes work, write 140 reports, proof read and correct my form’s end of year reports and write my own comment encompassing their well being, personality and progress. Around 1500 – 2500 words a form for the subject report, which really isn’t that much for thirty or so students, but it’s what to write that is the kicker- I end up doing a fair bit of copy and pasting by the end of it.

Weather is supposed to be nice this weekend… I am probably going to spend most of it inside with the blind down and the fan on… Last night for the first time since my surgery my sinuses were aching- a dull, restless-inducing pain that kept me awake for a few hours. I think I was halfway between sleep and comprehension as I realised that for some unknown reason I had pulled my fairy lights off the wall. There are nice dents in the plaster where I yanked them out; I guess I was fractious because of the pain? Frak knows… Sleeeep…
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Weird Milk


Weird milkWeird milk
&
pasta detritus






















Today I noticed that at the bottom of my mug of coffee there was a substantial amount of floaty goopy stuff drifting about soft and fluttery as I hit the dregs. I checked the kettle for the offending substance and I smelt the milk to see if it was off. No joy.

I tasted said milk just to be sure and was very surprised by the novel mouth texture I encountered- Sort of like the entire semi-skimmed was the cream at the top of the full fat. I poured a bit of it down the sink and marvelled at the slow running ooze that crawled and separated across the stainless steel.

The milk is not off, just weird. I do not know why this is and it perturbs me. So I took a few photos to memorialise the occasion.

Hmmm.

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Post-National


Las Meninas

Las Meninas (after Velázquez)
1957
Pablo Picasso

I really like this work… I especially like the Sausage dog, and that it is called Lump :)

The trip to the National on Thursday was a resounding success; I got to spend a decent amount of time in the Café slowly munching through a cheese, ham and pickle sandwich and a delicious slice of lemon drizzle cake, and I got to take in some Picasso too. Hey, food is important to me :) There was no strife, no problems and even the naughties did themselves proud sketching away in front of each painting. Good girls… at least for the day.

As they sat sketching they could still be heard slagging off the work, and I caught the eye of many a shocked patron as they muttered away. I left them to it, safe in the knowledge that all around them were thinking what uncultured, idiotic and self-absorbed fools they were. Good times.

Although I have fewer classes to teach due to the leaving of Years 11 and 13 I have an awful lot of marking to do; I’m staying up much too late and am very tired indeed when I drag myself into work each morning. There’s only a month and a half to go until i’m free for the Summer but I know there are an awful lot of reports to do and books to mark in that time.

I had an excellent weekend of eating and drinking- Friday night with Leia Ewok Village and Sunday with my Dad, where good conversations were actually had. Hooray. Although we weren’t going balls out fabulous, me and Leia had a lovely evening; it is really nice to occasionally splurge on food and booze for the sake of friendship. I haven’t been out drinking for quite a while and I got to have some really tasty sausages :)

My Dad was going down to France and my parents’ house there and we had Sunday dinner whilst discussing the plight of my brother and my housing situation. There is now a serious possibility that I might become a (partial) home owner in the near future, which whilst exciting is somewhat unnerving. Responsibility and all. Other than that it has been very quiet aside from the usual banging of doors and noisy children outside my patio doors; I have played a lot of Animal Crossing and watched a fair few Homicide: Life on the Street episodes thanks to teh internets.

My itchy nose has disappeared thanks to the more inclement weather but now I think i’ve eaten too much and my stomach is rather sore. I am a delicate creature at times… I must go make a hot water bottle and curl up with Patrick and a spot of Animal Crossing…
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National Trip


Tomorrow I am off to Lahndahn tahn with forty Year 10 students to see the Picasso exhibition at my favourite gallery the National. I am hoping that it will still manage to be my favourite by the end of the day; there are some toerags in my group and I worry they will do something, get told off by a civilian and then massively overreact, or be tempted by the closeness of shopping!!! clothes!!! boys!!! and make a break for it.

Hopefully I will get to spend a few hours enjoying the smell of the oil paint and the delicious food to be had without much stress or major incident. I love both contemporary and historic art and the variety of work in the National is terribly appealing, from the weirdly composed, pre-perspective medieval works to the beginnings of abstraction at the turn of the 20th century. Inspiration and wonder aplenty, though not I am sure to a fair few of my charges…
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Grass


Ugh… my nose is so itchy at the moment. The grass outside my room was chopped the other day and what with the weather being so warm I have to open the firedoor to let at least a little breeze in. With the breeze comes the allergy… I am enjoying the warmth but I can’t wait for the rains to come to dampen everything down a little.
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