Monthly Archives: August 2009
Being refused entry to a venue because according to the doorman you “could do with a coffee”… Maturity or drunkenness??? Congratulations to Leia Ewok Village on outdoing herself woooooooooooo!
This evening I watched The Lives of Others; it was deeply sad and weep-inducing with the performances of all involved excellent, particularly that of the lead. Contained within was the following beautiful poem by Brecht:
Memory of Marie A.
Translated by Knut W. Barde
On that day in the blue moon of September
Quietly under a young plum tree
Is where I held her, the still pale love
In my arm like a lovely dream.
And above us in the beautiful summer sky
was a cloud, which I saw for a long time
It was very white and immensely high
And when I looked up, it was never more.
Since that day many, many moons have
Quietly swum down and past.
The plum trees probably have been chopped off
And you ask me, how is it with the love?
So I tell you: I cannot remember.
And yet, sure, I do know what you mean
But her face, I really do not know it anymore
I only still know: I once kissed it.
Even the kiss, I would have forgotten it long ago
had the cloud not been there
That I still know and will I always know
Very white it was and came from above.
Perhaps the plum trees are still flowering
And that woman now perhaps has her seventh child
But that cloud blossomed only for minutes
And when I looked up, it already was disappearing in the wind.
For a variety of reasons my trip to Bang Face with Nitram and Leia Ewok Village has been put off for the moment being so I am now going to have a nice, mission-free Friday night (I admit I am a little relieved). In Bang Face’s place comes a Saturday evening full of good food and lots of drinking in honour of Leia’s birthday; I have not been “properly” out for what seems like *such* a long time, so I am really looking forward to putting on some heels and going overboard on the makeup. Hurrah.
I’ve been feeling decidedly unsexy over the last two or three months; to me sexy and hot is when I dress up and put the war paint, outfit and heels on, whereas attractiveness is more of an everyday thing? Anyway, i’ve become rather frustrated with this situation so the chance to get out and pass some enjoyable time with excellent people is highly appealing.
I’m not going to wear the rubber dress but I am going to have many cocktails and will probably try out the Russian Red; disaster may ensue. Nae bother, I will be out having I am sure a fabulous time…
Back from an “entertaining for all the wrong reasons” spa and relaxation stay; I’ve made a few changes style-wise to the site so please contact me if things are not displaying well in your particular browser/OS combination, or if you just think it looks shoddy.
A summary of our spectacular stay will follow…
“To do this correctly requires deep packet sniffing or at least, per application filtering. The problem is, if people’s connections are monitored for bandwidth usage then some games and some programmers will appear to be “file sharing” when in fact they are behaving quite legitimately.salparadyse – Guardian – Internet cut-off threat for illegal downloaders
Since the Government will not do this properly (if they don’t care enough to sort out our troops gear then forget this), it will be given to some awful little fascistic private company who will proceed to act like the Gestapo.
The default mentality these days is one of two reactions to public enjoyment – monitor and control it (which means tax it) or ban it outright.
Want to destroy your life and those around you via drink?
State permitted sale of ultra cheap alcohol from thousands of outlets.
Want to get relaxed and smoke a spliff?
Off to prison you go.
Want to make bazillions in profit off the UK market and then walk away paying no tax? Fine – no problem.
Want to download a dodgy copy of a film before you go out and buy it (or because you can’t afford to buy it)?
Fines, criminality and maybe imprisonment await you.
Can we have a similar rule for the rich please?
Here’s how it will go – Anyone caught avoiding tax, taking the piss, breaking the rules or generally trying to rig the system in their own favour has all their money taken off them. It seem to me that the principle’s the same – you take off me anything I misuse, so we apply the principle in the other direction.”
Bad Science – Home taping didn’t kill music
Thanks to the Euros left over from Berlin I am newly equipped with primer, liner and Russian Red lipstick along with a new file for school which I am going to decorate with glittery skull stickers. Hurrah.
I tested out the primer/liner/lipstick combo on a glass of red and a bowl of Coco Pops and it seemed to fair pretty well; the red does look rather odd on me, not because it’s the wrong shade but just because it’s super super red. I guess it’s the equivalent of wearing Stripper Shoes but in a supposedly more wearable way.
I’ve not worn the Stripper shoes in a very long time indeed, well over a year; i’ve not worn my rubber dress in a long time either, but I am hopeful that come Friday evening I might have an excuse to dust it off and wriggle into it: (sound ahoy) Bang Face 69. The theme is “Lords and Ladies, Pimps and ‘Hos”, so I should fit in rather well. Unfortunately I missed out on getting on the guest list so i’m resigned to queuing for at least a couple of hours… I really hope it’s not raining. Ugh.
Tomorrow i’m off to the exotic location of twenty minutes down the road for two days of spa-ing and generally doing bugger all to celebrate Leia Ewok Village’s turning thirty; I’ve looked out the bikini and the swimsuit and will be giving myself a very good old scrub and shave before I go. I hope to be able to get a facial as well as my pre-booked massage but the place has not inspired a huge amount of confidence as when I called to add one no-one picked up the phone. Hmmm.
Anyway, even if things don’t quite go to plan, there’ll be plenty of eating, boozing and gossiping and home is but twenty minutes away if things go really tits up. I’m sure all will be fine, and i’ll end up falling asleep on the massage table. Good times…
Creepy… yet awesome… Cerrone – Supernature
Look how amazingly awesome this hosiery is…
NSFW The Fashion Time – Übersinnlich: Cato Van Ee in Vogue Germany September 2009
They’re by the German company Wolford, who often produce interesting legwear; alas I cannot find them on their site but i’m sure it’s not only the shoes, peachy skin and pert perfect arse I lack to pull this off (never mind the palace to parade around), as they undoubtedly cost a ri-dic-u-lous amount…
So, Berlin and a week in the company of MW#1, the first time we had spent more than twenty-four hours together…
The week got off to a seriously early start as after around two hours sleep I arrived up at the station at 4.30am; MW#1 was outfitted with a backpack and holdall, I was dragging a big suitcase. I always over-pack- I plan for all sorts of weathers and dinners at fancy establishments I never actually go to. Sensible.
On the bus to Heathrow MW#1 fought giant snakes and oversized golden scorpions on World of Warcraft whilst I dozed and stared out at the dimly lit motorway; Terminal 5 was interesting, even in my super tired state- I didn’t get to see any art but the whole place is very nice, spacious, full of good places to eat. Unfortunately our planned breakfast at Giraffe was nixed by the length of time they took to serve and our deadline for being at the gate, so off we went into the air minus anything nutritionally substantial. Boo… I was looking forward to a fry up too.
Anyway, the flight went well and I actually got to have a pre-budget cut sandwich; we landed at Tegel ahead of schedule and after a fair bit of tired faffing about with transportation found ourself in the flavoursome delights of our Mitte neighbourhood and our hotel. The street we were on was really great with an excellent mix of restaurants and cafés offering a wide variety of tastes and experiences. As previously stated, I booked the place due to its location and nice design – I rarely get to go anywhere so when I do so it’s nice to go somewhere nice – so when I opened the door to our room I was disappointed to find it fell far short of what I was expecting.
Sure, the room was nicely furnished, but where was the “floor to ceiling and wall to wall window”? The “All-glass front with street-scene view”? The room had a small window looking out onto an internal courtyard and did not come with the fun wet-room/open bathroom combination found in many other rooms. I did not pay for 4* facilities but for the location and design of the place, but even so I did not feel like the room matched up to my expectations for the price. Sigh.
Anyways, after a sort-of-nap off we went out into a very warm city; we wandered down Unten den Linden towards the Brandenburg Gate and the Reichstag – still haven’t made it up the dome (fucking queue) – and walked along the Spree to park ourselves at a riverside bar for a couple of uber-relaxing hours. Relaxing in that MW#1 had around a litre of beer whilst I had two large caipirinhas; I was rather warm and fuzzy by the time we sloped off back to the hotel for meat and cheese, goulash and a couple of glasses of wine. Mmm fuzzy…
Whilst I felt disappointed by our room, at least I thought the internal courtyard would give us some peace and quiet, enable us to relax more fully, get away from street noise. Oh, but it was *really* not to be… The hotel was right next door to sort of a giant art squat/cultural centre that started the music going around 4pm and didn’t give up until ooh, 6am or so? Then commenced the banging and dragging noises as they cleaned up. UGH. So as much as I felt exhausted due to my very long day I was kept awake for hours and hours by hip-hop, jazz and pop pounding through the walls and into the courtyard. THOSE FUCKS.
I assumed it was a one-off event, but oh no… EVERY night we were there the same thing happened… I also had to contend with the snoring emanating from MW#1, but at least with that I can do something about it, i.e. poke him and get him to turn over. Unfortunately, the earplugs didn’t work against either die disco or the snoring, so I dragged my duvet and my pillows around the corner of the room and onto the floor and tried to sleep in an alcove. Four star indeed…
That is one thing I like very much – your own individual duvet. This means you can make a break for it whilst leaving your sleeping beloved warm and blissfully unaware under their own duvet. Heh… Also, it means that you don’t have a duvet monster stealing all the duvet and that if you do steal you end up with two duvets, which brings a greater sense of thieving achievement.
The next two days proved excellent on the budgetary-side as we managed to skip both breakfast and lunch only dragging ourselves out of our hotel room late into the evening. In our dark little den we watched DVDs and slept a lot; I *finally* got round to watching The Godfather Parts I, II and III, which I am ashamed to say I had not managed to do. When we did venture out we wandered along looking for food that caught our eye; we went for pizza and (Engrish ahoy) German food on each evening, MW#1 delighting in a rather monstrous plate of pig knuckle, along with more Berliner Weisse. Throughout our stay in Berlin the portion sizes were just ridiculously large so that I could barely finish what i’d ordered- wait staff were always asking if I wanted to take it away, to which I shamefacedly apologised and turned them down. I never thought I would complain about there being too much food. I must be getting old…
As far as I am aware prostitution is legal in Berlin and so our street was dotted with sex workers, about one every twenty-five metres or so. They weren’t hanging out of their clothes and were discreet in a “Hey!! Look at meee!!” sort of way with their platform boots, ruffled mini-skirts and corsets – accessorised with a bum bag – and push-up bras; they didn’t show a huge amount of skin. It was a little disturbing how they all looked so similar, as if they were wearing a uniform of sorts, and I suppose the fake tan and long blonde hair is a part of that. They all appeared healthy and with it; my attempts to catch their eye and smile a hello failed miserably. Well done me.
We spent one evening in the hotel bar knocking back €70′ worth of cocktails; they were pretty and mostly tasty but my accompanying booze critic professed himself rather let down. We kept drinking however and by the time we weaved our way back to our room I was warm, fuzzy and giggly and wanted to rub my face in some manfur and MW#1 was completely unable to love me long time. Result.
On our last full day we watched Summer ski jumping on TV – who knew? – and had a disastrous lunch at the Hamburger Bahnhof gallery, where we fought against an onslaught of wasps that were determined to crash into our food, which when it arrived was not what we thought we’d ordered. I decided to eat the creepy fish that had been delivered to us – it was creepy but tasty – MW#1 doesn’t eat fish so whilst I picked through mine he waited for a re-delivery of the wild boar we actually wanted. The food was good but the wasps ruined our lunch, and anyway I was slightly grumpy at the fact that I had missed the amazing breakfast by fifteen goddamn minutes. Grrr.
The gallery itself was a real let down, especially as last time it had been so exciting; a large section of it was closed off and the work on show was nothing particularly interesting. The best piece was the garden at the front of the building- A circular area left to go wild, so instead of carefully composed bedding there were just lots of weeds clashing with the topiary around the edge. It was called something like The Right to be Lazy, but for the life of me I can’t find the artist.
MW#1 came round the gallery with me and was suitably unimpressed by everything; he only started to complain when I tried to get him to think- Too much effort… He seemed to take much enjoyment from criticising the work, which is something I can empathise with; his proclamation that Cy Twombly should actually be called “Mister Scribbles” provided great amusement (even now) along with his professed disgust that I had taken him “to see poopy” on viewing Marc Quinn’s Shit Head (yes, a head made from shit, frozen).
After the bad art we walked over to the Berlin Wall Memorial and we spent some time reading, watching and pondering the division of Germany and its effect on people’s lives; I felt fairly glum afterwards and so the ice cream from the café across from the hotel was greatly appreciated. Dinner was curry and noodles five metres across the road with suspiciously salty satay… Mmmm…? Afterwards we listened to a lot of Snoop before I began my nightly raging against the noise.
After vacating our room and parking our luggage we walked to the “nearby” Berlin Zoo & Aquarium; nearby turned out to be four and a half kilometres away… by the time we got there I was very glad to have my bratwurst and fries. The aquarium was small but interestingly stocked with a speciality being the breeding of jellyfish; the zoo was much more exciting and we passed quite a few hours wandering about peering in at the wide variety of creatures on display.
MW#1 took my ability to orientate myself to where the monkeys were kept as some sort of confirmation that I am in fact an actual monkey, or at least related; I pointed out his clear heritage to the various bears as they furrily lounged around their enclosures. Upon seeing a Sloth Bear lying on its back in the sun comments like “Ooooh, come see your friends!” and the like were sure to be uttered by myself. Good times. Actually, I think the male silverbacked Gorilla was probably the best match for MW#1; it sat calmly surveying its territory, scratching itself and eating whilst giving out “don’t even think about fucking with me”-type vibes. It’s the muscular shoulders and arms combined with the rounded furry belly.
I enjoyed the big cats, Elephants taking a shower, amazingly armoured Rhinos (their skin is awesome), the nocturnal animals – again, I am related to these apparently – and the bears were quite cool too, although I didn’t think much of Knut, whichever one he was. The monkeys probably provided the most interest, the highlights being the Macaque with a hard on being groomed by another – hello flippy-up penis – and the amazingly long ginger dreads of the huge male Orangutans; I didn’t know they were so large nor their fur (hair?) so long.
Post zoo it was the airport and home, arriving back late in the evening to rain and general chilliness boo. I was certainly glad to get home to Patrick and my bed that evening…
Overall, I had a really enjoyable time; it was great to spend time in MW#1’s easy company and spend that time relaxing and just being. Berlin is still an incredibly interesting place to be and even though the hotel let me down I would still go back there, on the proviso that I get a room at the fucking front next time, and away from the goddamned art squat. THOSE FUCKS.
I think we got on very well together, him mocking my map-reading abilities – fuck off – irregular stride – it’s the pavement – and “scruffy” appearance; in return I mocked his map-reading, his lack of planning, general bear-like qualities and intelligence. We successfully mangled the language together. I also tried to poke him whenever possible however I didn’t succeed terribly frequently in my attempts at annoyance. Must try harder.
“Yes, I know, I want one too. But I tell you what: I want one with a hand guard. Otherwise every lightsaber battle would consist of sabers clashing and then their owners sliding as quickly as possible down the shaft to lop off their opponent’s fingers. You say: Lightsabers can slice through anything but another lightsaber, so what are you going to make a hand guard out of? I say: Dude, if you have the technology to make a lightsaber, you have the technology to make a light hand guard.”Lightsabers – John Scalzi’s Guide to the Most Epic FAILs in Star Wars Design
I’ve actually started to do something I said i’d do – writing about my experiences in Berlin with MW#1; at the moment i’m on Wednesday and am describing the uniforms of the sex workers on our street, managing to write 1200 words so far. And all without emotional comment (so far). Go me.
My trip to the ENT turned out well; I have nice clear airways with little in the way of extraneous growths. I have to keep taking the drugs and mosey on back in six months’ time. Huzzah.
I had a hankering for High Fidelity as I hadn’t seen it since I watched it at the cinema and so, duly Teh Internets provided it for me. It really is an enjoyable film, that is when you’re not crying, which is what I proceeded to do in fits and starts throughout the film. Good times. I have been feeling a bit glum over the last few days – the post-Berlin comedown I guess – so watching a film containing an entire storyline about growing up and committing to things was reaally not the best idea i’ve had this week. Ugh.
To pass the time and take my mind off things i’ve been watching makeup tutorials on YouTube. Yes, really. I find them fascinating and can happily sit there for an hour or so learning How To Apply Liquid Eyeliner or create The Perfect Red Lips, all things that i’m sure will come in useful one day, but what day i’m not entirely sure. I suppose it’s a bit like Hartbeat, only on skin. And with fewer animals. And Morph…
Geordie Lauren Luke is the current Queen of the tutorial (she has just launched her own products with Sephora) however I can’t really get into her work as she doesn’t engage with me particularly well. I prefer julieg713 and her California gal enthusiasm, xsparkage with her cute, snarky manner and ever changing hair and the Makeup Geek and her considered attitude. For oddness that really shouldn’t be odd, gossmakeupartist demonstrates techniques on himself.
I found out about Urban Decay’s Eyeshadow Primer Potion from watching JulieG and reading loads of reviews on Makeupalley; this has enabled me to actually wear eyeshadow without it sliding off my face after half an hour; I am now looking for something to help lipstick stick to my overactive mouth. I rarely wear lipstick as I prefer to go for the crazy eyemakeup and also because I simply cannot be bothered to reapply- I am still at the stage in my life where I feel weird primping and reapplying along with the rest of the gals in the ladies toilets (the femininity – it comes into being in teeny-tiny increments).
I used to wear Max Factor’s Lipfinity, however it is very drying and flakes all over the place, creating delightfully crusty lips. Mmmm… From reviews it seems like MAC might be the best way to go, with a primer and some Russian Red, but I think that i’ll hold off from purchasing for a while. I’ve got that whole unattractive and under-appreciated thing going on at the moment; I think curling up with Patrick and the DS would be a better idea. Sigh.
It’s supposed to be very warm indeed today, perfect for a wander round the corner to the ENT department. As is usual i’ll get lectured on not using my saline wash enough but my consultant will still find me amusing; there’ll probably be no major changes and I will be asked to come back in six months to a years’ time.
When I get back I should try to get started on writing up what I did in Berlin; I think a factual approach minus any feelings or analysis is probably the best approach. I might be bursting to convey how I feel but it’s probably better that I keep my thoughts to myself; it’s not like i’m going to write anything ground breaking anyway…
I made it back from Berlin in one piece – albeit somewhat sleep-deprived – and I had an interesting, relaxing and very enjoyable time.
The hotel I was so excited about turned out to be a major disappointment, but there were no major incidents nor disasters during the week and I passed the time very easily with MW#1. Not a single tear was shed and there were no particular moments of anguish; this is not to say everything is now magically fine and dandy however.
I wish I had two weeks away rather than just the one; spending more time in each others’ company seems to be very hard to achieve. A blow-by-blow report will materialise at some point.
I’m all packed and ready to go for my über early getaway tomorrow; indeed, I actually have space to spare. Hurrah.
Although I didn’t get more than five hours sleep last night i’ve forced myself to stay awake so that fingers crossed I can get something approaching five hours tonight… I have to be out the door by 4.30am but thank goodness breakfast and caffeine await at Terminal 5. I’ve not travelled from there before; I am apprehensive with regards its reputation towards the losing of luggage but I am looking forward to seeing the cool cloud sculpture they have there. Unfortunately it seems that the vast majority of the artworks are deemed not fit for us Economy-class plebs as many are located in fancy-pants lounges. Boo.
Anyway, lots of art, museums and bunker fun to be had in the week ahead. Woo. Already I feel rather tired…
Chocolate Bunny by Lernert Engelberts
“Three ways of melting a chocolate hare.” [via]
John Hughes? Nooo….
What is it with these 70’s and 80’s icons dying before their average life expectancy?
This week i’ve been doing fairly bugger all, venturing no further than the supermarket and town as I try to save money and prepare for my escape to Berlin on Monday.
Money is a worry, and if it wasn’t for the credit card I wouldn’t be going anywhere; I guess this is how most people live their lives, so maybe i’m just being normal. Hmm. Anyway, museums and galleries are pretty cheap in Berlin – many are state owned – and I like wandering about a fair bit, and that is of course frei. Of all the places we went to the last time the walk along a stretch of the Wall was my favourite; the weather is looking a bit mixed (showers and seventy degrees plus) but as long as things stay warm and are not torrential i’m sure it’ll be fine.
I’ve also been pondering the language, specifically whether to bother trying to say “Hello, I realise that check-in isn’t until 3pm but we’ve got a reservation and was wondering if it would be possible to leave our bags here until then?” Yeah, you can see how successful that is going to be :D I think i’ll probably end up mumbling out “Guten Morgen. Es tut mir leid, mein Deutsch sind sehr schlect, kann ich Englisch sprechen?” to which the desk person will reply, “Sure, how can I help you?” and I will go red and be displeased with myself at not being able to use zee German.
“Um, Hallo, ich verstehe check-in ist um drei Uhr, aber wir hat eine Reservierung. Konnen wir unsere Taschen hier bis zum check-in?” sagt Google…
Fuck. Englisch it is… at least during that part. I worry about this conversation like it’s a major deal, but I know that all the hotel staff speak English so I really should not go to sleep pondering it. I also shouldn’t worry about the hotel, whether it’s going to be too warm in the rooms or too noisy – this is the problem now having reviews of places on Teh Internets- Foresight. The most common complaints about the hotel I chose were the noise from the street below and the giant art squat next door (!) and the crap air con in the rooms; chances are that everything will be *fine* and I will have an excellent if warm time.
As I was lying awake last night the following thought suddenly popped into my head “Oh My God i’m going to be spending an entire week with MW#1 what are we going to talk about?!” I’m sure that we’ll have plenty to talk about what with wandering about, taking in museums etc. as well as eating and drinking, so I suppose it’s just because spending an extended period in each others company is so unusual. I still worry though- Will I find something massively annoying about him? Will I be massively annoying? Will we end up despising each other by Friday night? Oh, the possibilities…