Emo, emo, I'm so emo. Sing it with me now....

Tonight, I am listening to a lot of Dashboard Confessional. It is that kind of night. I think I will watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. They lie on the ice in the starlight and love each other so perfectly it makes me cry.

I have run out of choclate soya milk and this saddens me.

I'll, um. I'll be back. I think it'll be a late one tonight.


edit: I am 3 minutes and 11 seconds into this movie, and I have already begun to sob. Fuck's sake.

Put your iPod/MP3/Media Player on shuffle and answer the questions

Song Number 1: Nelly Furtado - Say It Right

Your favourite lyric from this song: I can't say that I'm not lost and at fault /  I can't say that I don't love the light and the dark. I actually love a lot of Nelly Furtado's lyrics.
Does this song have any bad memories attached? Only nostalgia. My ex-housemate Nick first played this song to me, in his room while we were keeping each other awake to write final papers. Quite a good memory.
What genre is this? Psssh. Pop, I guess.

Song Number 2: Fall Out Boy - Golden

What's the last line of this song? And all of the mothers raise their babies to stay away from me, and pray they don't grow up to be...
Have you ever seen this artist musical live? Yeees. Almost a year ago now, headlining Deycaydance Fest. One of the best days I've everexperienced.
Why do you like this song? How can any FOB fan not love this song? It's Patrick's voice and a piano. I mean - what? Lyrics. Voice. Piano. You follow?

Song Number 3: The Smashing Pumpkins - Stumbleine

What's the first line of this song? Boredom's in the bathroom shaking out the loose teeth.
Where did you first hear this song? Uh. I. Wish I could make up a response to this, but I truly have no recollection.
How about the first time you heard the artist? Oh man, Smasing Pumpkins are, like, one of those cultural osmosis bands for me. You don't really 'hear' about them, they just exist, and it's like they always have done and always will be and you just don't question it. To me, anyway.

Song Number 4: The Sounds - Night After Night

Which friend could this be a theme tune for, and why? Ben. We went to see The Sounds on my final night in my old town, and though they didn't play this song, it's just them. And him. Poor, lost Ben. I guess this song is very alone and desperate in a quiet, destructive cycle kind of way.
Write down the Night after night, you say you'll move on; tomorrow, tomorrow.
Now what's holding you back? I don't know, I don't know.
How long is this song? 4:13

Song Number 5: Green Day - Hitchin A Ride

What kind of film would you choose this as the theme for? Oh man, a wicked artsy, indie flick, clearly. I think with the same vibe as the video has, with the weird characters and a heightened sense of aesthetics, over the top-ness and overt personifications and. Things. I don't know, it's late.
Best part of this song: That main guitar riff? BUMBUM-da-bumbum BUMBUM-da-bumbum, you know, with the downwards progression?
How long have you been listening to this artist? Again, cultural osmosis. Green Day have always existed, I believe Dookie was the first album I ever bought, ever, when I was, like, 11.

Song Number 6: Muse - Invincible

The fourth line reads:You will be alright.
What is the meaning of this song? Pretty self-explanatory. Self-belief, inner strength, all that good stuff.
Who introduced you to this artist musically? Cultural. Osmosis. It is all-encompassing.

Song Number 7: Pencey Prep - Ten Rings

Who does this song make you think of? Fraaaaaaaankiiiiieee. That summer when My Chem and bandom were all that mattered. Walking to work in the summer rain.
What's the cover look like on the album this came from? A weird cartooony kid drawn in smudgy crayon or pastels. His face is yellow like a Simposon and his coat is blue and sports a wee broken heart motif.
Favorite lyric from this song? Haha, are you kidding? Pencey Prep lyrics sucked. Bless.

Has your favourite song come up? nooooooooooo.


(in other news crush!actor likes me holyshitholyshitholyshit)

Know what I miss? I miss we_are_cities.

I haven't written anything since April. head over there, look at the latest prompt, and tell me that's not significant. I know you won't, but believe me when I assure you it is.


edit: I'm curling up inside My Chem now.

I cannot stop listening to this song. I'm so serious, I actually can't bear to take it off repeat.

There's the sand, there's the spade that dug the trenches that we made.
Babe, our foundations were built on all the things we never said.

FUCKING THEATRE YOU GUYS.

UGH.

Yesterday was the day from hell because we were only supposed to dress Act One because of how far behind we were, but then we hit the interval and the DSM turns to me and says, the director wants to go on to Act Two, and we had to set back for it and we so weren't prepared and it was frantic, we had no idea how long we had to do it and we were missing so many props and the fucking stage left treads weren't set and then they started the fucking Entr'acte without waiting for backstage clearance and I was stood in the middle of the stage dressing a table and I only just got out of the fucking way before the tabs went out and then at the end of the night I walk into the fucking green room to hear my ASM slagging me and the production manager off with every curse under the sun and it fucking sucks, she's supposed to be one of my best friends but she's all bitter and spiteful because I got the stage manager job, which she wanted, which is absolutely not my fault, I can't help being FUCKING BETTER AT THIS THAN HER, SORRY BOUT THAT.

But. We went up tonight. And it was amazing. Everything was smooth and coordinated, and I just love the show, it's wonderful walking around backstage surrounded by such a lovely cast with these lovely songs playing out in front of you. And crush!Actor is wonderful and I am a puddle of simpery puppy dog eyes around him whoops, pathetic.

AND THEN. I get home to find a letter from the stage manager of Wicked, asking me to come in for work experience at the end of the month fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkkkkk WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! FUCKING WICKED.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. So now I'm on show call for a week, which means I get to sleep in tomorrow. I will relish this.

Sleeping now.

Sooo..

It's Saturday evening, and for the first time in a month, I'm sat in my room with my laptop on and my fairy lights around my bed twinkling away. My window's open and I can hear the street sounds. It'll be dark soon. My view consists of the end of my bed and the heap of clothes beyond; my bookcase, all haphazard and familiar; my wardrobe off to my left, random shoes and coat hangers escaping on all levels; four yellow walls punctuated with pictures and posters, the same as they have been since September. This has been something of a routine for me. I like it, it's this time and this place. And. I just did some calculating on my calendar. This is the last Saturday evening I'll spend this way. In this time and this place.

I dunno, I don't feel so sorrowful about that as I maybe could or have done in similar situations in the past. But I'm not psyched about it, either which is unusual.

I really like the way Gerard Way says the word 'variable'.

For old times' sake? I'm going to have a coffee and a cigarette and sit up til 4am writing. Old habits etc.

Shit shit shit. And then some more shit.

That seems an adequate summing up of my day.

I don't post about good days, I realise, and so reading back over what I actually do post about must make me seem and utterly useless excuse for a human being. However. When it rains, it pours. For the record - and I don't know if this is anything you may or may not have encountered in your own dabblings - but boys are fucking lame. Fact.

I blew my own eardrums out with Robots In Disguise on the way home, pushing the volume past the point of pain and discomfort and just fucking walked. And. Felt a little better. I want to go see them live again, so so much. Watching them headline was possibly the most happy I've been in the last few months. Fucking Robots.

Facebook question: at what point does returning a 'poke' become more about... about not wanting to appear rude, by being the one to allow the... correspondence, I suppose, allowing it to die? Rather than, heehee, I want to attract your attention and let you know I was thinking about you, heehee, lolz. Fucking Facebook.

Tomorrow will be stressful and busy. this weekend will be about sleep and trying to fight off the germs and organising my tool belt and fit-up folder. I go into the theatre on Monday, and so from that point I will cease to exist on the face of the normal world for a week or so. Monday's call begins at 7am and ends at 10.30pm. Hurrah.

Havea song which is a story. And has lovely imagery, and then goes a bit quirky and 'oh' at the end. And is by Bright Eyes, whom I love, and you should too. It's just one of those things.

I will cease typing now, and go and make dinner. Then I may watch Cloverfield again.

Quote of the weekend: 'It's a fabulous cupcake, like Gerard!' Eleonore wins at winning.

This weekend, I have watched Cloverfield a grand total of three times. Ellie forced me to buy the special edition DVD on Saturday, so we watched it that evening. Then I watched it again on Sunday evening after dropping her at the station. And then at 10pm when I was about to curl up in bed, a friend informs me that a few people are going over to another friend's for a film. Which turns out to be Cloverfield. It still terrifies, disturbs and owns my fucking soul every damn time. And every damn time, they turn on night vision in the subway. When will they learn? I'm utterly obsessed, you guys, there's so much backstory and little clues that all inter-link, and I love it lots.

Earlier on Radio1, people were asked to text in their favourite song ever. The top three played were, Limp Bizkit's Rollin', R Kelly's World's Greatest and The Wombats' Let's Dance To Joy Division. I feel this says a lot about the average Radio 1 listener, and I despair.

I go into the theatre in a week. I want to be excited about this, but I feel I'll be tempting fate. Everything that can go wrong, etc.

Woooooorrds....

I don't have a very exciting life, not a lot to relate.

DAVID TENNANT IS PLAYING HAMLET. WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED. PERSONALLY. BY THE RSC.

Yah, yah, alright, I said I was tired didn't I?

Here.

And no, it isn't Pete-related. :p

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A full grown man made that blog entry, please be aware of that.

I'm too tired. To process anything.

Snooooooooooooooooooooooooze.

I've only been in this 'place' nine months and I already need out. The spaces between excitement and restlessness is getting smaller and smaller.

Sometimes I think I'm doing an absolutely fantastic job. Of messing up my life.

No, I say. I say no to sudden changes of fortune. They are not amusing.

Having had a productive, fulfilling day yesterday, today utterly blew. One ASM called in sick, and one spent all day making a butterfly net which then broke at the end of the day and will have to be re-done tomorrow. Meanwhile I spent hours on the internet and on the phone tracking down furniture which the director was in the process of cutting it from the show, even as I worked.

I'm also having issues with train tickets for this weekend, which un-happifies me.

As of now, I am listening to Russell Brand's podcast. I have eaten vegetarian cottage pie. And a new episode of Battlestar Galactica is currently downloading. This pacifies me somewhat. And I will not stress anymore this evening, as I shall be going to watch the boys play football.

( A meme to absorb time and nervous energy. )

In a therapeutic manner, I now intend to spam with every photo I've accumulated on my phone since I acquired it.

( Have fun. )

Looking at all those gives you a glimpse of how utterly awesome the last two months were for me :)

I'm going now.

Less pointless capslocking in my f-list, please. It's not eloquent or lol-worthy. Just. Stop it. Not you, puckinnichild. You capslock your ASS off.

So, things. I am. Not exhausted. I think I'm a little better than exhausted, but I'm pretty tired. Visited moondarri this weekend and stayed up til 4am talkingtalkingtalking with eloquence and meaning and understanding that I cannot fully express through nods and 'yeah's, but it's there. Deeply. I kinda love that. Just things, you know? That exist? They're awesome. Cos you see them, and you recognise them, and then they sort of belong to you, and you can share them with other people who have seen them and it's like having them all over again, keeping them in a cabinet inside, and you can let people rifle through your cabinet while you have a nosy at theirs and see what interesting things they keep in the drawers.

MUSIC. How so... nostalgic and present at once? I hadn't listened to This Time Imperfect for quite a long time before last night, but it still. Raised bumps on my arms and back. I like. Well, things. Music has a lot of them all at once, you know? Loss and hope and connections and emotion.

I have... maybe two weeks? To finish propping my show? With one ASM who is bust making three dog-puppets and another who is too busy being a pissant child to do anything of any use to me. So that's. Less than ideal. I'm. Wary. That I have an awful lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it, and I'm probably going to have to the majority of it myself, so I'd better damn well get on with it or I'm really going to be in the shit.

What are your plans for surviving the apocalypse when it comes, f-list? I can't stop asking this question. I watched Cloverfield, and then I read these, (some old, some new) and. I have all sorts of ideas for my survival plan, and I keep having to make sure that everyone else has plans too, cos I want them to be ok. Even if I can't be in touch and make sure that they are, I'd like to hope that some people are now forewarned and will be ok with their canned goods and space to grow their own food and escape routes and things. I'm not crazy. There is no bunker beneath my flat. Yet.

I must dye my hair.

I am enjoying reading bigbangs. They have rejuvenated the desire to write yet again. I really like the acting!AU, I'm going to try and make some time for that this week. Amongst, you know.

Things.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

( Or, why Gerard and Lyn-Z ARE SO FUCKING CANON, EVEN AS SIMS. )

DESPITE THIS PURE BEYOND-GEEKERY, I STILL ACTUALLY HAVE A SOCIAL LIFE.

Cloverfield: I may have crapped myself, just a little bit. Holy shit, good movie. Seriously good movie.

Rehearsals start tomorrow. Crush!Actor will be there. He will flirt. I will grin. And then I will remind myself that no. Just no.

THE SIMS 2 IS FAR TOO MUCH FUN. NO, SERIOUSLY. AND I HAVEN'T EVEN GOT PANIC AT THE DISCO INVOLVED YET.

SIM!LYN-Z FTMFW.

BRENDON URIE IS MY FAVOURITE SUGARY SYRUPY DESSERT. MY SWEET TOOTH IS SATISFIED EVERY TIME.

YES, JOHN MAYER, YES.

... you have ZERO judgment when it comes to things that move you. When most people get the feeling they might like an idea, or a shirt, they run it through a series of filters; 'what should I think, given my personal attributes?' 'How does this read?' 'What would Kanye do?' You have what makes talented people successful for years and years - a brave sense of self and a completely authentic relationship with your tastes ...

Big Gay Crushes abound.
And John Mayer articulates things that I didn't know I didn't know how to say.

Foisted upon me by provetheworst
Reply to this post and I'll assign you a letter.
List (and upload, if you feel like it) 5 songs that start with that letter.
Post them to your journal with these instructions.

I got given an RRRRRRRRRRRRRR, but alas I have no piratey songs. I fail, Chex.

I ALSO COULD NOT CUT DOWN TO 5, I JUST COULDN'T. I got it down from 15, but I love each one of these songs too, too much to leave them out. So, you get six. DOWNLOAD THEM, IT IS FREE MUSIC AND THEY ARE AWESOME.

Raised By Wolves - Voxtrot

Rabbits Are Roadkill on Route 37 - AFI

Run - Snow Patrol

Ready For The Floor - Hot Chip

Rapid Hope Loss - Dashboard Confessional

Ruby Soho - Rancid

On a less controversial, and exponentially more lameass note:

I can no longer listen to Cars and Calories without giggling like a small child.

I blame you, Gerard Way. Damn you.