In Between Days.........

Why hello Gentle Readers, reader, person who might stumble upon this in a fit of internet madness,

Tis the season for another random blogpost.. As it has been rather a while since my last post I thought I'd start with saying how it's not BLOODY Christmas yet... it's a very confusing time that part where everywhere is getting colder, and darker and then suddenly look up in the sky there are flittering splatters of light flickering about in the moonlit sky.. That's one of the loveliest things about living on a street with no streetlights... besides the inevitable lurking of rapists and cats there is ample opportunity to see the moon peeking out of the cloudy sky above Allerton way... and the stars (the real ones not those silly flashing lights) twinkling in the sky above.. 

As I've toppled off into a little rant on the stars I have decided there is no colour as beautiful as the slightly darker blue that hits the moon over the shadows.. slightly dark light.. weirdly mesmerising. 

And as the days drawn in and I walk home from work (well the bus stop) pondering how I could stop being this boring drone worker and flitter off into a lovely cocoon of artistic decadence and fun the sky is pretty and dark and enveloping. 

So today I came home and smelt the darkness outside on my coat and went and sat in my knickers painting.. yes I have to paint semi nude as unfortunately I've never been very good at keeping myself free from paint stains.. in fact my poor quilt, made lovingly by my mother, has not only green but also red paint splatters on it (small ones but still.. ) and that's only from today... and as I sat in my pants and painted, a lovely bit of alliteration there for you, I watched the rather excellent film, "The Notorious Betty Page",
obviously about the bondage beauty. I was pleasantly surprised at how normal she was. She wasn't a raving sex fiend. She wasn't a maddening whore. She wasn't an air head. She was a religious and experimental young woman with a mind of her own and a sweet little nature. well that's what I got from the film anyway, and you can't make a film that's a lie that's just wrong haha,- her justification of being nude was that Adam and Eve were naked in the garden of Eden,- well until they sinned and then they got clothes. So in stopping getting naked, in being clothed she admits her sins.  Either way the movie made me smile and I was rather enlightened to go and dance around my kitchen, still just in some knickers but anyway, and pose into the extractor fan listening the "Weird Science" soundtrack.. an odd mix yes but a truly fantastic one. 

So I'm broadening my horizons on the strange front having developed a penchant for tartan shoe laces and men I don't know why I fancy and silly staring out the windowness.... I've started watching Starter For Ten for the millionth time and I'm currently wishing I was still at University simply to get on University Challenge.. and meet Paxman.. sigh... 

Thinking David Nichols I've nearly finished his latest effort, a rather too close to home story about two graduates who meet on the night of their graduation and where they are one day a year for the next twenty years.. through being best friends and not talking and being in love.. sigh.. 

Having spent my weekend a bit drunk and being annoyed at Morrissey's apparent disregard for a paying audience and sense of humour (ok flying bottles aren't funny fundamentally but come on you've been performing for over 20 years now... get a grip) I am now going to go and faff about instead.  Is it a bird.. is it a flying flower? is it my hair.. is it anything to run away from no.. none of them.. 

I'm rather ashamed of myself.. actually no I'm not, that I got so stupidly excited about the fact that this week's Observer supplement was the foodie one... Christmassy food and the most amazing looking Chorizo and Chestnut soup.. I'm planning on roasting a poussin and maybe some festive food... (all to the background of the Cure absorbed soundtrack of Starter for Ten) and for some reason I'm finding Alex James less annoying even though he does refer to himself as Foodie Boy, oh dear... Graham Coxon would never do that.. But Graham Coxon hasn't got his own organic cheesy farm or whatever it is Master James, Lord of the Manner has. 

Number one on my christmas list is now an air hockey table.. where this will go nobody knows but fuck it I need to nurture my one sporting talent.. if you've ever gone bowling with me you know I'm a wrist flicking genius with fingertips of steel and vicious fingers of air hockey doom.. 

Just can't seem to win as easily on the Wii.. 

The Remembrance Day Service brought a proud strange feeling of pride and perhaps futility this Sunday.. it's something that always makes me cry.. not that it takes much.. but each year there are less of those solemn and proud men standing by the senataph.. but the young ones are scary too.. Hmm too late to discuss my feelings on war but my strange fascination with World War One poetry has always given me this pride. So I might go to bed and read a Sassoon book that was once given to me on the basis of his name rhyming with Bassoon. an excellent word. 

I'm working on a list of christmas gifts.. homemade cookies and hats and chutneys... I'm working on a mixture of tomato and ginger with a bit of lime.. it might be amazing it might not be but I'd best get started soon.. jars ahoy.. 

so to work away the christmassy blues that inevitably come to someone quite as emotional as I, which sillyly I cry when I'm happy.. silly silly person that I am.. I have mostly been listening to 

Okkervil River's Come back I'm Waiting- a lovely black sheep boy related song about how you can never quite lose things.. Scenic World by Beirut.... enough said... when I feel alive I try to imagine a careless life... contemplating whether it's a valid lifestyle choice to spend all your wages (well a large percentage of them) in the record department of Oxfam... being the proud owner of Nancy Sinatra's greatest hits with Lee Hazelwood, Bowie's Let's Dance (Hurrah!!) and various other great finds (Thomas Leer vinyl in 69A always a fun find) 

Anyway as I'm tired of sickness. tired.. bored of being bored.. and going to be a creative genius. Or just go to sleep and stop smelling like Peanut Butter Cookies... 

Hurrah.. 

xxxx bon soir. xxxx