May. 23rd, 2006 01:19 pm
devi: (dancing)
The short version: Rain, bands, rain, talk, rain, stupid funny songs, rain, books, rain, rain.

On Friday night I trogged through the pouring rain to meet up with [livejournal.com profile] juggzy, [livejournal.com profile] cleanskies and [livejournal.com profile] annifa and go to see Sleater-Kinney, who were fantastic, all galloping guitar wig-outs, though I couldn't hear a word they were singing. I went scurrying to the merchandise table afterwards, but they had no CDs for sale. So we all went back to the pub and sat outside in the rain for a while before we had to admit defeat and go back into the warm and loud.

about a book )

After more drinking and ranting about the evils of society I went home on the Brookes Bus in the pouring rain, the hem of my skirt soggy, feeling kind of righteous and melancholy. At the bus stop a passing girl stopped and squirted washing-up liquid on the ground, then lathered it up with her foot. "Bubbles!" was all she managed to say before her friend dragged her on up the street.

Saturday was Polyfilla-ing the bathroom (and more rain) and then Eurovision! Drunken raucous fun as ever (thank you [livejournal.com profile] kauket) and enough key changes and costume changes to keep everybody happy. I wondered if it would be possible to program a Terry Wogan Commentary Generator. We all cheered like mad for Finland, though Lithuania was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time. Eurovision goes self-referential! Eurovision discovers irony! Oh man! Eurovision breaks the fourth wall! I was glad Finland won, but every point Lithuania got was a victory for humour and irreverence and it felt good. The hard core sat up afterwards till the wee hours playing card games, then taxi home in, guess what, the pouring rain.

On Sunday I did nothing whatsoever but lounge and read as the rain poured down outside. The sun's out now. I hope it lasts. Oh, now it's gone again.
devi: (bookish)
What a great weekend. Even most of the crap bits were sort of great. It started on a beautiful sunny Friday evening as [livejournal.com profile] killalla, [livejournal.com profile] kauket, Adam and myself went punting from Magdalen Bridge. So terribly Oxford: calm green water, weeping trees, spires hazy in the distance, people studying on the riverbanks. It all had that too-idyllic-to-be-real feeling I had in winter when I started cycling around town, like we were in a period drama. Kat had brought cupcakes. We didn't talk that much. In between fending off banks and other boats with the paddle, I touched the water with it to make intersecting patterns of ripples. Once Jo made a sort of "ahhh" noise which was exactly what I'd just been thinking.

Then to Templars for barbecue and games.

I slept in on Saturday, into the afternoon. That was the plan: it was going to be a very late night. Then I set off to get a top-up of London to keep me going. On my way down on the Oxford Tube, the sun was shining on yellow fields and hawks were hovering. When London came up around me it didn't feel draining, like it sometimes had before. It buzzed, and I was fresh enough to catch the buzz and run with it. The music I chose got faster the closer I got to the centre.

As soon as I got on the tube I saw three people in completely ridiculous outfits the like of which I'd never seen before: brocade tracksuits with short legs, flat caps and beaver hats made of patchwork and gingham. Fancy dress? The new style among Shoreditch Twats, or is it Whitechapel Twats now? Yeah, London.

Across Trafalgar Square – Nelson's Column is covered in scaffolding with scary ads about climate change, shots of landmarks under water – and down the Mall, getting tree pollen in my eyes, and I arrived at the ICA to see the Beck's Futures exhibition the day before it closed.

Much banging on about modern art )

So after some coveting of the entire bookshop and some texting to find out the plan, I headed down to Borough for the next bit. And what a next bit it was.

Let me know if there's loads of space between paragraphs. LJ doesn't seem to want to put in line breaks, so I've put them in as html. It was like this the last time I posted too. Hmm.
devi: (dancing)
It's been a good week, full of funny little spikes of euphoria that hit me suddenly as I'm on my bike or sitting watching TV or wherever, really. And I feel like documenting it, with a big long rambling life-update, before the sun goes down and the dancing begins.

Monday: the life cycle of the lesser spotted time-travelling policeman )

Tuesday: being dense, floating, drinking, petting (well, not really) )

Wednesday: boys in grass skirts )

Thursday: hero's welcome, shakin' that ass )

So yeah, tonight: More dancing, but different. Later I'm off to get the Oxford Tube, meet [livejournal.com profile] uon and do some trance-dancing somewhere in a tunnel under London Bridge.

All good, all very good.
devi: (railway)
rain, fretfulness and regret, sudden plans, wine, pink river dolphins and tree octopi, surprise, wine, cycling on ice late at night, editing, friends, schoolgirl angst, uproarious drumming-heels-on-floor laughter, wine, hangover and headrush and gloopy winter sunset, wine, pub, fire, food, crosswords, driving too fast and smoking too much, small unruly animals, demon babies, rabbits doing the ironing, ice cream, wine, taxi.

At least it was all the same colour of wine.
devi: (Default)
It was a funny, ambiguous week. Coursework panic at school. Running around South Ken with no time to take a lunch break. An election where everyone I talked to seemed to feel they'd 'voted wrong'. But after all that, yesterday came like a reward.

A Tube Walk first, from Bank to London Bridge and from Barbican to Farringdon. Even though I think the less obvious, less scenic Tube Walks are often better - places you'd never go to otherwise, and more surprises - this one was great. It rained on and off, between bursts of sunshine. We crossed three bridges. Crossing bridges in London makes me feel I'm at the heart of things.

Sitting outside The George pub at London Bridge, with drizzle coming on, we had the 'what would you do if civilisation crashed?' conversation again. Every time I go out lately I seem to end up talking about the Apocalypse. [livejournal.com profile] katstevens said she'd be the DJ in our post-apocalyptic commune, if [livejournal.com profile] mzdt could build a bicycle-driven DJ booth. So long as you didn't have to pedal at the exact RPM of the records it might just work.

[livejournal.com profile] myonlyhome said I was the first person to get her username, and we enthused about the Magnetic Fields, and I told her about the chocolate-hurling incident at the Festival Hall gig. Then, when she saw the Lost Things Saved In Boxes badge [livejournal.com profile] miss_newham made me, she told me her grandmother had a box in her house labelled "Bits of String Too Short To Save".

[livejournal.com profile] haggisthesecond was encouraging as usual, and told me about the Worst Novel Ever, and sadly I can't tell you about it, but trust me - it was hilarious.

We walked through some of the prettiest parts of London. There was a wedding going on at St Paul's full of people in spectacular hats. I had a fish-fight with [livejournal.com profile] tjej and [livejournal.com profile] miss_newham and lost. We ended up in a sunlit, cosy pub in Farringdon where I found cloudy, appley cider, talked to [livejournal.com profile] sherod and took a straw poll: should I go on a nightclub expedition with almost total strangers? The general opinion seemed to be yes.

When the tube walk dispersed I wandered around the South Bank for a while, waiting for my phone to ring. Went into Tate Modern to stare at Rothkos with my eyes blurred, and passed a party down on the riverbank at Festival Pier, hundreds of people dancing on the edge of the water.

Then, starting in Bermondsey and ending up in Brixton, the nightclub expedition with almost total strangers. Going on expeditions with almost total strangers is great. Not least because, if it goes well, they stop being strangers. It's really quite amazing that I hadn't met [livejournal.com profile] julietk before, because she knows pretty much everybody I know. But now I have, and she's got blue!hair! and three beautiful rats (who are sane and gentle and don't bite!) and knows about Stuff from counselling to quantum physics, and is generally Very Cool.

Today has been a day of sleep and films and work (maths tutoring! Thank goodness for penguin mints) and fluffy stripy bedsocks. I've made a playlist for sleepy Sundays, soft music to curl up and dream to.

It's working. Goodnight!

[Poll #490194]
devi: (Default)
Anyone fancy some galactic hitch-hiking tonight?
devi: (Default)
Anyone who's been to a Zokutou meet will know the Opposites Game, where each player tries to write the opposite of the previous phrase, and then we all have a giggle at how this drifts over time. We had a big opposites game going on our airing-cupboard door at the party this weekend, and this is what resulted:

Red, The Blood of Angry Men! Black, The Dark of Ages Past!
Blue, the flesh of peaceful ladies, white, the light of the future!
Busted! Your Skellington of War-Bastard, Dusky, The Deeply Serious History!
Fixed! My Body of Hippy Bright, The Flimsy Future
Loose - your spirit fascist, dull, the solid past
unfasten thy ghostly totalitarian kdiko kosta jedno nocenje?
Tighten my fleshy communist, sharpen a runny future
Undo your bony capitalist, blunt many static pasts
assemble my voluptuous anarchist, keen few mobile futures.
Scatter thine skinny Thatcherites, loathing many stable flashbax!
Gather my fat Commies, loving some volatile premonitions
Scatter your [illegible] Capitalists, hating [?] from stable events in the past.
Collect my fat commies, loving together to wobbly tedium outside no future.
Buy all the records of McCarthy, and get married!
Steal no Skrewdrivers, lest ye take refuge in the Guardian's "Soul Mates" section 4EVAH!
People who get the cocktails in will never be lonely hearts.
Animals who give henheads out won't ever not be coupled.
Rocks that take pigbutts in shall sometimes die single.
Water gives head and won't always combine together.
Frigid liquid mixes
Barry solid straight
I am [?] of accusations of straight - [?] aka Barry
Okay - he's a raging queer
Abysmal - she's quiescent normals
Stratospheric male is effervescent extreme...
Earthed girls are easy...
Electrified weasels aren't too hot at doing difficult sums eg LONG DIVISION 362 by 521467 ect ect
Earthed buzzards love maths
Solar silence hates english
The lunar noise rather obstructs the lovely French countryside.
Dean Wareham's ex-girlfriend loves the civilised City Life magazine.
Virtueless elephant
Evil Pixie - Shamus.
Spong-monkey bitch-arsed humping heinous hellcats from Mars
"Officers teach soldiers, soldiers teach officers, and soldiers teach soldiers" - Chairman Mao
I went to Sixth Form, you know.
I was home-schooled
You went to state school and you loved it!
We take shapely general federal government with LOVE.
You give amorphous specific state anarchy without HATE
I love inde[?????]
The sentence adverb
[some illegible kanji]
[some stick men]


(It's better than regretting)

(scribbled around this was "bums bums bums bums bums", and "I'm glad I crashed the wedding", and "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?")

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