Then Sakura appeared and did nothing of any importance

Sometimes, and it pains me to admit this, but sometimes I write fanfiction. This is only ever done as either bribery or thanks for my ever-amazing lil sis. I have to say it's disturbingly easy to write. I'm not talking full on slash yaoi crazy internet stuff here. I'm talking "Hey smelly Catherine, write me a fic involving Aeris, Zack and Kadaj living in the lifestream and the hilarious yet heart-warming adventures of them all." And so I go on msn and write up a storm to post in little snippets and watch her laugh next to me. It's a fun way to brutally murder time. The worrying thing is she asked me to compile one of them into a word document. A friend of hers upon reading the tiny quote from previously mentioned fic in Julie's sig on devart had asked to read the whole thing. Apparently she loves it and demands that I set up an account with fanfic.net to share my talent with the (online)world. I don't know whether to be disturbed or flattered.

I'm going with mildly creeped-out indifference.


I ache all over. I think I mopped myself to death today. So many coffee stains and chewing gum to scrape off the floors and newsprint smeared just about everywhere you could imagine. The only way I got through today at all was by playing my sexy Mexican (sexican!) music real loud and wriggling my way to great justice. I'm lucky the windows end above my hips or I'd be making friends with the workers across the road in no time.

Big atonement for big sins. Small atonement for small sins

I do not like shopping at Christmas time. Dear god I dragged my sorry ass up and down the length of town. You know that stereotypical woman thing of finding exactly what they want in the first shop they go to but they trail around shops all day only to return to the first one? Well I did that today. The highlight of the day was muttering Bill Bailey quotes in Argos and the pushy old woman next to me hearing it. Oh the pushy old women. They are everywhere! On the plus side I got practically everything I wanted and the guy in topshop couldn't work out that 10% of £6 is 60p and not a fiver. I did not complain!

I found the soundtrack of Sympathy for Lady Vengeance online, free and legal. Oh it is awesome. Such a gorgeous film although I was so wary when I watched it the first time considering it's about a girl accused with murdering a 6 year old boy. It's all fine until she finds videos of kidnapped children which was so heartbreaking and horrible. It's fantastic though go watch it if you haven't seen it.




I'm off to catch up on stuff I haven't finished reading. I've got Shirley, Paradise Lost and Dr Zhivago and not enough time to read them all.

I am Joe's complete lack of surprise

I slept in this morning. Julie's goodbye woke me up briefly and I managed to get up, pee and reply to a text before crashing back into bed until sometime around 11. My next class is about to start in 15 minutes. I am currently a good 40 mins away from the lecture hall. I planned on doing my tutorial work for tomorrow in the 2 hours I had to kill before Classics so I got my book and notepad all ready and ventured into my dad's office to steal a piece of gum. His pile of books he hasn't read yet caught my eye. Fight Club was between A Beginner's Guide to Russian (now with helpful CD!) and the Antony Bourdain book I'd given him for his birthday. He'd ordered Fight Club the day after I had actually walked to the cash desk in Borders with it in my hand only to turn back when I realised I was two pounds short because I'd bought a coffee that morning. He said I could read it after him since he was actually going to read it and it was only short after all. This was around September.

I haven't read a book I didn't need to read since I was in Spain in the summer and that was Ovid. Not really leisure reading unless women dressing up as cows to fuck a bull is your thing. I've been battling with Charlotte Brontë's Shirley for two months but it needs my full attention and I can't give it even half of that these days. So I picked up Fight Club and thought what the hell I'll have a flick through, kill half an hour before I make lunch. My gran turned up at the door at 2.20 to give me some sort of salmon parcel thing my mum wanted or something and that's when I realised it was too late to go to uni today. I finished the book 10 minutes later.

Last time I did that with a book it was 5th year, Girl, Interrupted and I had to write my French essay at lunch the next day instead of the night before like I'd planned. Despite the fact that my subjects are nearly all literary based I haven't read many books these past two years. I buy them, shelve them and don't open them. I'm turning into my father.

I'm still doing better than him though. The corner of page 21 was folded down where he gave up reading months ago. I've also hurt my neck more since I was curled up too much in my seat. and I'm hungry and uneducated. I'd like to say it's all worth it because it was a fantastic story but some would say I have my priorities all wrong.

Phah.

Turn into the whole wide world I made up

Neck is absolutely killing me. I slept (although when I say slept I mean I blacked out for a couple of hours, woke up confused then repeated a couple of times) in a weird position. Hurts when I lean too far each way, which sucks. What if I wanted to watch a really enthusiastic tennis match?

I finished my last piece of writing yesterday before the writer's group but I will admit it is godawful and will not be seen until I can be arsed fixing it. The idea behind it ain't too bad but jeez my execution, like I was 15 again. I've been toying with an idea for a few weeks but hadn't quite found the time to commit it to paper. Then I started thinking about it a lot more last night but still I dithered. If I didn't get it just right it would end up pretty darn pretentious. Since I'd done enough studying for the day (I opened the document, stared at it for a minute or so before closing it with a contemptuous phah!) I thought I'd stare stupidly at a blank piece of paper instead and see what Lil' Miss Inspiration brought to the table today. While I waited I stuck on my recently purchased cds from Fopp. I went in to kill time, came out poorer, hurrah for commercialism! The Yeah Yeah Yeahs ep I'd already heard before (only £3!) and it's rather rawry so instead I sampled the Pixies (bought for a fiver since I lost the cd a friend of mine made yonks ago that had a couple of their tracks on it and was most upset). So, first song, first line I pay attention to and bam! there's the piece I wanted to write and a lovely title too. I tell you my life in the past wee while, bar the bleh depression dip, has been pretty damn synchronised. I'd go into that but you'd think I was crazy and I am actually lazy so pfft to that. Gonna try and finish it off tomorrow between classes.

In other news I fell half-asleep on my damp hair today and it dried pretty damn nice. Good to know I was wasting my time by being awake and trying to make it look socially acceptable.

Vote now for your favourite thing and you too could win a thing

Sometimes I think I'm going mad. There's the endless conversations I conduct in my head which, combined with my habit of muttering to myself and my fucking lip that's driving me crazy, I attract a lot of odd looks and nobody ever wants to sit next to me on the bus. Which is fine, I don't want them sitting next to me. But to have three people in one bus journey actually begin to plank their ass on the seat next to me before pulling up and moving on is a bit much. There's also the hair. I have Dylan Moran hair today. I woke up and it was shorter and bigger somehow. It's also thicker, all over the place and has changed shape several times during the course of the day. Honestly I don't know what it's doing. And I still don't have the money or strength of mind to face a hairdresser. I didn't pay to hear about your wacky cousin's wedding or the tattoo of Dad you have on your shoulder. Put it away and cut my hair for the love of all that is good. I never like it when I come out anyway. It grows so fast and then it gets to that awkward stage where it does mad things like recently. I don't know why I got it cut this length anyway. That's an outright lie. I got it cut this length because some creepy junkie started talking to me at the station and sat next to me on the train and kept touching me and telling me I was perfect just the way I was. My outfit was perfect, my hair was the perfect length, I was a lovely girl. Soon as I could I went to the hairdresser and put up with her tales of her friend who used her for her car and gone was my easy-to-deal-with hair. I really should stop doing that. But then everytime I spend time on my appearance and I can look in the mirror and say 'yeah you look pretty alright today' I attract a freak. Actually I attract them anyway. Today, looking like the mad Irishman that I did, a man nearly fell out the open window of his white van as he gave me a dirty look. I don't get it. I'm not that much to look at. I'm awkward and my face does screwy things when I'm thinking and I wasn't even dressed remotely up. I have freak radar. Like a socially inept bat.

I've been trying to write something all day. Something I had to get down. One of those niggling ideas that wake you up in the night because you haven't written it yet but when you sit there, pen in hand, nothing happens. I've spent three days on this and written five drafts, none of which are finished and one of which is in my own wondrous tense of not making sense. I got more than a little pissed off this afternoon. My room looks like a stationary shop exploded.

Gah I'm just fed up. I shouldn't have relaxed. I've fended off the depression for about three months and stupidly thought I could make it through the rest of the year without moping. I need someone to give me a good shake, tell me I'm being daft and then whisk me off on a whirlwind romance where I don't need to pretend I'm in love and I can be as filthy and sarcastic as I wanna be.

For now, I'm gonna go play Star Wars Lego on my Gameboy. It won't cheer me up but I get to shoot things with lego lasers. It is enough.

Ménage à trois

It's wrong that dancing my ass off while I mop is enough to cheer me up but it's the sad truth. Where drink, good company and comedians failed, Bowie and a mop triumphed. It won't last but better than nothing.

I saw Carl Barât guy again today. Gave him a wee bit of the eye and earned a smile. He looks so like Carl it's crazy. Now if only he was carrying a guitar and smoking, then I'd take him home...


My dad thrust a magazine in my hands when I got home from work with a grunt of "this isn't mine." Too right it isn't yours dad, you opened my gorram mail! So I missed the thrill of opening Total Film before it's in shops. I'm sad I know, but still it's exciting. Ruined for this month thanks to the fact my father can't notice the capitalised MISS followed by my name and not his on the address. Silly man.

So what films are coming out you ask because you're too lazy to look for yourself? Have to say there's not much grabbing me. I'm already seeing the Golden Compass soon even though they're too chickenshit to outright attack the church, have moved the fantastic ending to the beginning of the Subtle Knife if it even gets made and refuse to call the Alethiometer by its name. I'll let the fact that the title is wrong slip, but it's not a freakin compass. It's just compass-like! It's gonna bother me but I shall see it anyway and judge after. I adore the story and I just hope that even with the changes it works as a good fantasy film. Still, I was in love with Lee Scoresby and I don't see me falling for Sam Elliot somehow.

There's only one new film in the whole magazine that I would actively try and see. It's a musical. And it's in French. Oh yeah, bet it's showing in tons of cinemas and I bet I'll convince so many people to see it with me. Oh wait maybe I will:

The Boosh is loose and a little bit raw

I woke up yesterday feeling more than a little crap but it was Emma's party night and it was only 7am so I tried to stay positive. Apart from the aforementioned soul crushing first bus of the day the morning went well. Buses were on time so I was on time for Classics for once. I even managed to blag my way through the class despite neglecting to do any of the work on the Siphnian Treasury. Later for studying, man. Got dolled up and met the loveliest lady. We missed a train, the bus didn't come, we got harassed by a drooling old man and finally made it on another train. We talked girl stuff. The crazy sizing of women's clothing these days, hips, how hard it is to find boots that fit right in all areas. I told her she missed Toady from Neighbours. She got so excited. She's the only person I know that still watches the show. Then it was pizza time and Emma had a cloak and she liked my presents.

I was running on no energy even by the time we got to the union. But smile wide, flash those teeth, wiggle your girl around to songs that aren't Bowie but will do. Make it through the night because it isn't yours. Fake it til it's real and remember at least you're surrounded by people you actually like unlike all those other nights when you felt crap and had to go out. Emma swishes her way through us all, moving from person to person, introductions all round and I don't remember whose name goes with whose face. I get a chance to rest my feet and just when I relax a little there's the tap on the shoulder from the next creep who wants to freak me out. I attract them like flies. He doesn't creep me out, nothing really does anymore. I'm more surprised when a guy is nice to me and then I convince myself that there must be something wrong with them and run away. But it kills the tiny high I'd built up to carry me through the remainder of the night.

So I get out, rant at Joe, my dad manages to be omnipresent and I feel a little better. Emma's drunk and giggly and kinda gay. Lotsa kisses and "you're my favourite". Makes me smile. I love my little witch girl. By the time we leave my feet are dead. Who invented heels and why did I have to fall in love with these boots? I've got an arm to drag me and the promise of bed to encourage me. Emma's still excitable, she tells me off for made up affairs. She's fun to wind up when drunk. Taxi rejects us and my dad rages through text. I tried to crawl to bed as quietly as I can when he appears on the stair. Long interrogations before he storms downstairs to complain to the black cab people. Making his little girl come home in a gasp! private hire taxi instead.

I wake up still bleh this morning. I had a day off from everything but I couldn't face studying, couldn't write anything and didn't feel like watching the football (good thing too since we gave away a penalty in the 93rd minute). I gave up on the day around 3 (although considering I was still in the tshirt I slept in I never gave the day much of a chance) having decided that watching my hair slowly fall down from its sleeping state to its normal position in intervals of 20 mins was not a decent pastime. I retired to my cosy little room, put my fairy lights on and chose the ridiculousness of the Mighty Boosh over the brooding of a certain vampire with a soul. Things always look a little brighter with Noel and Julian <3