Phew. Today was hard work. Mainly due to me being denied entry into club SLEEP by Insomnia who was apparently doorman for the evening. Every time my weary little soul ventured entry, I a received a slap about the face and told ‘No trainers’
At which I protested that they were smart, before realised two things. A: I’m in bed, attempting to sleep and not wearing any trainers – and B: this in my head therefore I can go where I please. My arguments fell on deaf ears, and resulted only in me receiving another slap about the chops; and doubting my own sanity.
I think I eventually managed around 5 hours sleep, not good. Especially when I had to be in the office (on a Bank holiday! – Although I did offer, doh!) for 8am.
Worse still, today was beautifully hot and there was no breeze; which only fuelled the dazed, fidgety and irritable mood that embroiled me (Like reeds on the riverbed, which snare unobservant swimmers and drag them to their watery graves). What a charming image I have thrown at you, no need to thank me. It’s all part of the service.
Thankfully I managed to remain pretty upbeat, if a little distant; and cheered up note ably when my housemate returned home with a new means in which to procrastinate. A nintendo wii - Something I had managed to resist buying up until now, knowing that I would quickly become addicted and spend even less time do the productive things I sometimes think about doing.
I was right. It’s fun, I’m addicted - Goddamit. At least when I now go to visit any of my friends who already have a wii, I won’t be spanked so hard on wii Tennis. Being Captain uber-competitive, I hate losing. But losing wii tennis hurts more than usual, because I can play tennis quite well and those pesky little urchins won’t play me for real!
It is 11:10pm at the time of writing this entry, and I do not feel the least bit tired. Still, I am hoping that if I force myself to bed now I’ll doze off. The last thing I need now is another attack of insomnia! …Perhaps another round of wii boxing will tire me out. Lets go see.
Au revoir.
Monday, 25 May 2009
Saturday, 23 May 2009
Everybody's Got To Learn Sometimes
The sun is still shining over my little piece of the world; it’s been there for six or seven days straight now; which is nice, and as it happened, I had booked Thursday and Friday off work as holiday! Perfect timing, not only for the weather but also because I really needed the downtime. Being able to break the monotony if only for a few days has given me time to relax, and strengthen a mood dangerously close to happiness that currently rests over me.
It has also given me time to spend money, something I seem to be doing a lot of recently. I did limit my spending to clothes and books on this occasion, which I think can be passed of as necessities! I should really finish reading the books I already own before buying more, but if I see one on a subject that interests me I can’t stop myself from buying it. Currently my interests are engaged with the French Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars, and the English Civil War, which were the subjects of all but one of the books I picked up. (The one being Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams)
Something else I have had time to do is consider my future. It must be all too apparent to regular readers that I have felt increasingly lost, confused and unhappy with the state of my life in recent months – I have bemoaned the situation and it’s various causes all to often. But I have been acting on those causes as well as bitching about them, and changes have been made, bringing with them small victories; each aiding me along the path back to this happy little state of mind I currently rest within.
Throughout this period of change I have on occasion given thought to switching careers, from finance to teaching. In fact, I have thought on it numerous times over the past two years, but have always brushed it aside as I had no time to retrain.
I now have time, and having spent more time talking about it recently, with friends who teach, I have started to pay more attention to the thought. I have been building up to making a big change in my life all year, but have not been sure what change would be. Perhaps this is it. I love history and literature, and can think of no better career than one in which those subjects feature heavily, and I am able to share my knowledge and enthusiasm.
It is definitely something I will now be considering seriously; I’ve already collected some information on the various ways to go about training and will spend the rest of the weekend looking into it. I have also been looking into taking a couple of advanced language courses to tidy up my French and German, perhaps I could teach abroad?
That would be some time off, best start with getting the training first!
It has also given me time to spend money, something I seem to be doing a lot of recently. I did limit my spending to clothes and books on this occasion, which I think can be passed of as necessities! I should really finish reading the books I already own before buying more, but if I see one on a subject that interests me I can’t stop myself from buying it. Currently my interests are engaged with the French Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars, and the English Civil War, which were the subjects of all but one of the books I picked up. (The one being Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams)
Something else I have had time to do is consider my future. It must be all too apparent to regular readers that I have felt increasingly lost, confused and unhappy with the state of my life in recent months – I have bemoaned the situation and it’s various causes all to often. But I have been acting on those causes as well as bitching about them, and changes have been made, bringing with them small victories; each aiding me along the path back to this happy little state of mind I currently rest within.
Throughout this period of change I have on occasion given thought to switching careers, from finance to teaching. In fact, I have thought on it numerous times over the past two years, but have always brushed it aside as I had no time to retrain.
I now have time, and having spent more time talking about it recently, with friends who teach, I have started to pay more attention to the thought. I have been building up to making a big change in my life all year, but have not been sure what change would be. Perhaps this is it. I love history and literature, and can think of no better career than one in which those subjects feature heavily, and I am able to share my knowledge and enthusiasm.
It is definitely something I will now be considering seriously; I’ve already collected some information on the various ways to go about training and will spend the rest of the weekend looking into it. I have also been looking into taking a couple of advanced language courses to tidy up my French and German, perhaps I could teach abroad?
That would be some time off, best start with getting the training first!
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Feeling Good
Part One
Birds flying high you know how I feel – Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Reeds drifting on by you know how I feel – It’s a new dawn it’s a day it’s a new life for me
And I’m feeling good.
*Cue bad Matt Bellamy impersonation and air guitar.
Hello readers, how are you today? I don’t know if it’s down to the thoughts of Dita Von Teese strutting seductively throughout my head, the fact that the sun shone despite the persistent forecast of rain, the return of my mojo OR the valium and vodka cocktail I downed earlier. But I am feeling good.
To think that the day began badly and seemed to grow bleaker with each passing moment, so much so that I was resigned to the fact that this already prolonged spell of (I’m hesitant to say depression, but can think of no better word off hand) would continue to linger. Annoyingly I cannot place exactly what has put me in such good spirits – and I am resisting the urge to go back and analyse the day, I think I’ll enjoy having the motivation and drive back. I would break out in song, but I’m not that happy – and this ain’t no musical.
Sidenote: Greenday’s latest album is growing on me, slowly, and now on with the show.
I picked up a of really interesting looking book today, ‘At Day’s close, A history of night time’ the title is pretty intriguing, and part one ‘The Shadow of Death’ sounds like something I am going to enjoy. My fascination with darkness and death cannot be normal! It’ll be a little time before I get to it though, I’ve three on the go already. Speaking of books, I finished reading Matthew Lewis’s ‘The Monk’. A review follows.
Part Two
The Monk is an intriguing tale of love, lust, murder and hypocrisy; of temptation, obsession and the supernatural. Which makes use of many props familiar to gothic fiction, namely romantic heroic males, persecuted maidens, ghosts, demons and archetypal tyrants. At the centre of all this is the monk; Ambrosio, who is looked upon as a Saint throughout the Madrid in which the story is largely set, and whose downfall and ultimate end forms the central plot.
I really enjoyed reading this book, and found that I actually got through it quite quickly. The plot is smartly paced, but is commonly interjected by various means whether it be a short poem or tale, or of a character recounting some past experience. The relevance of some of the interjecting tales is not obvious, as they offer nothing to the main plot.
But most serve in prolonging the reader wait in learning the consequences of Ambrosio’s increasingly sinful actions; building the suspense and adding further mystery (Or allowing a revelation) to the other characters that play parts in this story, and of events unfolding around Ambrosio.
I think I will read it again. As one particular aspect of the ending jumped out on me unexpected, and I suspect I missed something first time around. A fan of gothic romance or horror would really enjoy this book.
Birds flying high you know how I feel – Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Reeds drifting on by you know how I feel – It’s a new dawn it’s a day it’s a new life for me
And I’m feeling good.
*Cue bad Matt Bellamy impersonation and air guitar.
Hello readers, how are you today? I don’t know if it’s down to the thoughts of Dita Von Teese strutting seductively throughout my head, the fact that the sun shone despite the persistent forecast of rain, the return of my mojo OR the valium and vodka cocktail I downed earlier. But I am feeling good.
To think that the day began badly and seemed to grow bleaker with each passing moment, so much so that I was resigned to the fact that this already prolonged spell of (I’m hesitant to say depression, but can think of no better word off hand) would continue to linger. Annoyingly I cannot place exactly what has put me in such good spirits – and I am resisting the urge to go back and analyse the day, I think I’ll enjoy having the motivation and drive back. I would break out in song, but I’m not that happy – and this ain’t no musical.
Sidenote: Greenday’s latest album is growing on me, slowly, and now on with the show.
I picked up a of really interesting looking book today, ‘At Day’s close, A history of night time’ the title is pretty intriguing, and part one ‘The Shadow of Death’ sounds like something I am going to enjoy. My fascination with darkness and death cannot be normal! It’ll be a little time before I get to it though, I’ve three on the go already. Speaking of books, I finished reading Matthew Lewis’s ‘The Monk’. A review follows.
Part Two
The Monk is an intriguing tale of love, lust, murder and hypocrisy; of temptation, obsession and the supernatural. Which makes use of many props familiar to gothic fiction, namely romantic heroic males, persecuted maidens, ghosts, demons and archetypal tyrants. At the centre of all this is the monk; Ambrosio, who is looked upon as a Saint throughout the Madrid in which the story is largely set, and whose downfall and ultimate end forms the central plot.
I really enjoyed reading this book, and found that I actually got through it quite quickly. The plot is smartly paced, but is commonly interjected by various means whether it be a short poem or tale, or of a character recounting some past experience. The relevance of some of the interjecting tales is not obvious, as they offer nothing to the main plot.
But most serve in prolonging the reader wait in learning the consequences of Ambrosio’s increasingly sinful actions; building the suspense and adding further mystery (Or allowing a revelation) to the other characters that play parts in this story, and of events unfolding around Ambrosio.
I think I will read it again. As one particular aspect of the ending jumped out on me unexpected, and I suspect I missed something first time around. A fan of gothic romance or horror would really enjoy this book.
Sunday, 17 May 2009
Kiss Kiss Bang
The spectacle of lame that is the Eurovision Song Contest has once more been, left a dirty stain upon Europe like an excited puppy in the kitchen, and run away until next year. I’m not a fan, encase you hadn’t guessed.
I just do not get it – and I still pretend I don’t watch it, but no matter how firm my resolve, I will inevitably succumb to the lure of the young, attractive European ladies in tight short skirts (giggity giggity – giggity goo), Terry Wogan’s in creasing sarcastic, cynical commentary and the blatant political voting of certain countries. It perhaps would not be so bad if our entry was anywhere near the level as it was this time around. I still didn’t like it, but she had a pretty damn good voice and maybe deserved a higher placed finish than fifth. Not that I would complain about finishing fifth, given our recent record of ending bottom or close to it!
That said; I was quite open in my desire to watch this year, if only for Germany’s entry. Those heroes persuaded Dita Von Teese to perform a little routine whilst they sang. Magnifico – My only complaint was that the cameras spent too much time on the singers and not her, how rude. I would have quite happily watch her for three hours and sent the rest of the performer home. But that’s me, and I am unashamedly smitten with Miss Von Teese.
In other news – I went to see the new Star Trek movie this weekend. Wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but I am not really familiar with the original Star Trek series; and remakes or ‘envisioning’ are generally awful. At which point I will move on before I launch in to a rant on how the X-men films could have been so much better. Sigh, such a geek.
Star Trek was fantastic, the casting was spot on, the soundtrack was fantastic; as were the set pieces and plot in general. I liked the route the writers decided to take it leaves the possibilities for sequels wide open (obviously), and they don’t have to worry about straying from established events within the star trek mini-verse, or whatever the fans call it.
I wouldn’t say it has fully converted me, but I’ll definitely be going to watch it again and look forward to the sequel.
The only downside (for a Heroes fan) is that as Zachary Quinto’s career deservedly rockets, his part in Heroes will likely fade away. It doesn’t look like we’ll be seeing much of him in season four thank to the most ridiculous piece of writing the guys behind the show have come up with so far. I love the show, and forgive a lot, but seriously. Nathan/Sylar? Could they not have come up with anything better?
I just do not get it – and I still pretend I don’t watch it, but no matter how firm my resolve, I will inevitably succumb to the lure of the young, attractive European ladies in tight short skirts (giggity giggity – giggity goo), Terry Wogan’s in creasing sarcastic, cynical commentary and the blatant political voting of certain countries. It perhaps would not be so bad if our entry was anywhere near the level as it was this time around. I still didn’t like it, but she had a pretty damn good voice and maybe deserved a higher placed finish than fifth. Not that I would complain about finishing fifth, given our recent record of ending bottom or close to it!
That said; I was quite open in my desire to watch this year, if only for Germany’s entry. Those heroes persuaded Dita Von Teese to perform a little routine whilst they sang. Magnifico – My only complaint was that the cameras spent too much time on the singers and not her, how rude. I would have quite happily watch her for three hours and sent the rest of the performer home. But that’s me, and I am unashamedly smitten with Miss Von Teese.
In other news – I went to see the new Star Trek movie this weekend. Wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but I am not really familiar with the original Star Trek series; and remakes or ‘envisioning’ are generally awful. At which point I will move on before I launch in to a rant on how the X-men films could have been so much better. Sigh, such a geek.
Star Trek was fantastic, the casting was spot on, the soundtrack was fantastic; as were the set pieces and plot in general. I liked the route the writers decided to take it leaves the possibilities for sequels wide open (obviously), and they don’t have to worry about straying from established events within the star trek mini-verse, or whatever the fans call it.
I wouldn’t say it has fully converted me, but I’ll definitely be going to watch it again and look forward to the sequel.
The only downside (for a Heroes fan) is that as Zachary Quinto’s career deservedly rockets, his part in Heroes will likely fade away. It doesn’t look like we’ll be seeing much of him in season four thank to the most ridiculous piece of writing the guys behind the show have come up with so far. I love the show, and forgive a lot, but seriously. Nathan/Sylar? Could they not have come up with anything better?
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
At a Crossroads Pt. 2
As I stated at the top of my last entry, the picture I thereafter proceeded to paint might appear one of desolation and melancholy to some. But my mood has actually taken an up turn in recent days. The feelings of loss and uncertainty are ever present, but I have enough going on in reality to suspend the deeper musings on my life for now.
The interview I mentioned in Dude, where’s my day has been and gone. I am never confident after interviews, I feel – I know I could have given a better show of myself, but I don’t believe I did too badly. I really would like to get the position, but should it not be offered I wouldn’t be too disappointed, other opportunities have since surfaced; and the workload for the role I was interviewed for is rather tall right now. All the better for me should I get it, a perfect opportunity to shine – or sink. I’ll stick to the optimistic outlook!
Unfortunately where opportunity is appearing for me, some of my friends are not as lucky, having been made redundant this week. I can only hope that they find something suitable soon, but I know from experience that decent jobs in this city are a rarity right now. My employer has announced a worldwide reduction in the workforce, but the numbers are relatively small – and we will be parting with contractors and temporary staff, so I am safe for the time being. Should that change I have already decided I will look in moving to Austria, or Switzerland. It is an idea that has steadily grown these past 18 or so months, but my grasp of the German language still has some way to go before any move.
I have since had another thought on the image of the man on the rock by the crossroads. Perhaps he’s not lost at all, perhaps his stop; intentional or not, has given him the chance to reflect upon the journey that has brought him to this point.
The interview I mentioned in Dude, where’s my day has been and gone. I am never confident after interviews, I feel – I know I could have given a better show of myself, but I don’t believe I did too badly. I really would like to get the position, but should it not be offered I wouldn’t be too disappointed, other opportunities have since surfaced; and the workload for the role I was interviewed for is rather tall right now. All the better for me should I get it, a perfect opportunity to shine – or sink. I’ll stick to the optimistic outlook!
Unfortunately where opportunity is appearing for me, some of my friends are not as lucky, having been made redundant this week. I can only hope that they find something suitable soon, but I know from experience that decent jobs in this city are a rarity right now. My employer has announced a worldwide reduction in the workforce, but the numbers are relatively small – and we will be parting with contractors and temporary staff, so I am safe for the time being. Should that change I have already decided I will look in moving to Austria, or Switzerland. It is an idea that has steadily grown these past 18 or so months, but my grasp of the German language still has some way to go before any move.
I have since had another thought on the image of the man on the rock by the crossroads. Perhaps he’s not lost at all, perhaps his stop; intentional or not, has given him the chance to reflect upon the journey that has brought him to this point.
Monday, 11 May 2009
At a Crossroads Pt. 1
At the risk of sounding like a battered vinyl - Spinning on an antiquated phonograph in some long lost side street café that smells of cigar smoke and coffee beans; that hits scratches sending the needle back to play the same notes over at such regularity that the locals no longer notice it over the murmur of discourse and clinking of cutlery. I am lost.
Earlier I was thinking; or rather daydreaming (whilst pretending to work). About nothing in particular, wistfully watching time tick away and the daily routine of office life unfold as inevitably as the passing of the time I longed to be making better use of. When my imagination conjured up an image that seems to so perfectly represent me, or perhaps more accurately, seems to so perfectly represent my perception of me. At face value it might appear a portrait of desolation, but its simplicity made me smile (inwardly obviously, if I had smiled in work, the inquisition would have escorted me to the dungeon for interrogation quicker that you can say what the dickens?)
It was a follows. A solitary figure I believed to be me (despite a voice at the back of my head stating otherwise) dressed in a dusty grey shirt; with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, long khaki shorts, well-worn walking boots, and a baseball cap, with a compass hooked to a chain that hung about his neck. Sat on the corner of a large rock, kicking his feet against the uneven stone surface thoughtlessly. In one hand, propped on his leg, a water bottle; half full and in the other a tattered book that at the present engaged his interest. Sand showered a bag at the foot of the rock each time his boots smacked against the rock, slowly burying it.
A path once well traversed and easily distinguishable from the barren plains either side lead past the traveller’s resting place, and branched off into at least three directions. He was lost, or undecided as to what path he might take; his decision would perhaps be based on something he reads in the book. I had a fancy that were the view to shift round I would see the ruins of a once great city lain out behind the traveller. Once standing as a beacon of light and learning, at extremities of a vast empire, no but a monument to a dead people, on the edge of a forgotten wilderness.
I have often likened myself to the protagonists in those romanticised tales of adventure and discovery, set in times before technology shrunk the world and made everything to readily available. When the hero was intelligent, chivalrous, courageous and committed, setting upon achieving his/her goal with such determination that at times, the pursuit of which looked to consume them, as it blinded them to the dangers which always around close by.
I aspired to imitate these heroes because I wanted the adventure, the sense (some even the experience) of danger, and I wanted to have a goal that merely the thought of filled me with the focus and drive to succeed. For a while I was like that, once I discovered the self-confidence to make the first step. I was driven to pursue my goals, and did so at every opportunity, but now that drive seems to have stuttered to a halt. Now I am the traveller in my daydream, to my back the last of my adventures; slowly fading into memory, and before me confusion. The paths are all there, but they seem long and empty, and the effort that would be expelled in traversing them seems too great a price to pay, and so I sit idle. Lamenting my loss of purpose. The little victories that have on occasion dispelled this mood no longer have the desired effect. I need a bigger hit, I need to rediscover that I have apparently lost.
Earlier I was thinking; or rather daydreaming (whilst pretending to work). About nothing in particular, wistfully watching time tick away and the daily routine of office life unfold as inevitably as the passing of the time I longed to be making better use of. When my imagination conjured up an image that seems to so perfectly represent me, or perhaps more accurately, seems to so perfectly represent my perception of me. At face value it might appear a portrait of desolation, but its simplicity made me smile (inwardly obviously, if I had smiled in work, the inquisition would have escorted me to the dungeon for interrogation quicker that you can say what the dickens?)
It was a follows. A solitary figure I believed to be me (despite a voice at the back of my head stating otherwise) dressed in a dusty grey shirt; with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, long khaki shorts, well-worn walking boots, and a baseball cap, with a compass hooked to a chain that hung about his neck. Sat on the corner of a large rock, kicking his feet against the uneven stone surface thoughtlessly. In one hand, propped on his leg, a water bottle; half full and in the other a tattered book that at the present engaged his interest. Sand showered a bag at the foot of the rock each time his boots smacked against the rock, slowly burying it.
A path once well traversed and easily distinguishable from the barren plains either side lead past the traveller’s resting place, and branched off into at least three directions. He was lost, or undecided as to what path he might take; his decision would perhaps be based on something he reads in the book. I had a fancy that were the view to shift round I would see the ruins of a once great city lain out behind the traveller. Once standing as a beacon of light and learning, at extremities of a vast empire, no but a monument to a dead people, on the edge of a forgotten wilderness.
I have often likened myself to the protagonists in those romanticised tales of adventure and discovery, set in times before technology shrunk the world and made everything to readily available. When the hero was intelligent, chivalrous, courageous and committed, setting upon achieving his/her goal with such determination that at times, the pursuit of which looked to consume them, as it blinded them to the dangers which always around close by.
I aspired to imitate these heroes because I wanted the adventure, the sense (some even the experience) of danger, and I wanted to have a goal that merely the thought of filled me with the focus and drive to succeed. For a while I was like that, once I discovered the self-confidence to make the first step. I was driven to pursue my goals, and did so at every opportunity, but now that drive seems to have stuttered to a halt. Now I am the traveller in my daydream, to my back the last of my adventures; slowly fading into memory, and before me confusion. The paths are all there, but they seem long and empty, and the effort that would be expelled in traversing them seems too great a price to pay, and so I sit idle. Lamenting my loss of purpose. The little victories that have on occasion dispelled this mood no longer have the desired effect. I need a bigger hit, I need to rediscover that I have apparently lost.
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Dude, where's my day?
Well huzzah with big brassy knobs on, the weekend is almost upon us! And I – I have completely forgotten what I was planning to blog about. Bugger me with a fish-fork.
Mental shutdown in progress, please standby for reboot.
Time has quite literally disappeared this week. Which means that either the days have been so alike in their unrepentant monotony that they have all but blurred into one seamless period of time OR - My secretly harboured suspicion that some unnamed government agency drugged me in my sleep; whisked me away to some “non-existent” laboratory, whereupon I was subjected to experimentation before being drugged again and returned to my bed, is in fact, what actually happened.
Personally both options fill me with a degree of fear, but to suggest that this week is to be noted for being devoid of interest is a little misleading, as I have once more been sowing the seeds of change - and change looks imminent. I have an interview for an internal position at work next Tuesday. If I succeed in getting it, I feel it will put me in good stead for further career progression in the not too distant future, so fingers crossed. Should I not succeed, I have been made aware of a few external options that may suit me, so I shall be exploring those over the weekend.
It is these little things that seem to be lifting the melancholy I have unwillingly succumbed to recently, well, those little things and a kick up the ass.
Mental shutdown in progress, please standby for reboot.
Time has quite literally disappeared this week. Which means that either the days have been so alike in their unrepentant monotony that they have all but blurred into one seamless period of time OR - My secretly harboured suspicion that some unnamed government agency drugged me in my sleep; whisked me away to some “non-existent” laboratory, whereupon I was subjected to experimentation before being drugged again and returned to my bed, is in fact, what actually happened.
Personally both options fill me with a degree of fear, but to suggest that this week is to be noted for being devoid of interest is a little misleading, as I have once more been sowing the seeds of change - and change looks imminent. I have an interview for an internal position at work next Tuesday. If I succeed in getting it, I feel it will put me in good stead for further career progression in the not too distant future, so fingers crossed. Should I not succeed, I have been made aware of a few external options that may suit me, so I shall be exploring those over the weekend.
It is these little things that seem to be lifting the melancholy I have unwillingly succumbed to recently, well, those little things and a kick up the ass.
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Skipping Stones Across St. Martin's Canal
Alas, could it be; that have I once more fallen prey to the ever lingering embrace of insomnia - Or have the bouts of restless sleep that currently plague me been brought on by a weekend of late nights, drinking, excessive nerdiness, geekery and tomfoolery of the alcohol induced variety? Rhetorical question readers, I think we all know the answer to that one!
I always find bank holidays enjoyable, for a start it is one time my friends are all of work at the same time; which is nice, and there is something about having an extra day or two off work; paid, that just makes me smile. As it happens I did end up in the office for a few hours on Monday, but as I got paid double time for rendering my services I wasn’t too aggrieved; and as some people are struggling to find work right now I’d be a fool to complain. Also, the extra earnings seemed justification enough to spend a little of my hard earned cash in the Bank Holiday sales!
Fortunately for my credit card I did suppress most of my urges and resist the alluring marketing that seemed to suggest if I brought this (Random non-essential piece of shite), I’d be walking home with her (Random non-essential woman, with a large cleavage and a vacant look in her eyes). I did pick up a few movie soundtracks that I have really liked for a while, but have surprisingly never picked up before. Namely that of Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amelie Poulain, which is one of my favourite films; the soundtrack is just as fantastic as the film. It is largely composed on piano and accordion, and always makes me think of Paris in the early summer.
Listening to that got me in the mood to watch the film, again; which in turn, oddly, spurred me into sitting down and watching the Pianist earlier, another of my favourites. I seem to have a mini European film fest going on; maybe I’ll keep it going for the rest of the week. I haven’t watched the copy of Sophie Scholl – The Final Days I brought Monday, and now that I think about it, I wouldn’t mind watching Life is Beautiful.
My, don’t I have a social week ahead of me. I suppose a couple of quiet nights will do me good, if only to get my sleeping pattern back to normal; or at least what passes for normal with me.
I always find bank holidays enjoyable, for a start it is one time my friends are all of work at the same time; which is nice, and there is something about having an extra day or two off work; paid, that just makes me smile. As it happens I did end up in the office for a few hours on Monday, but as I got paid double time for rendering my services I wasn’t too aggrieved; and as some people are struggling to find work right now I’d be a fool to complain. Also, the extra earnings seemed justification enough to spend a little of my hard earned cash in the Bank Holiday sales!
Fortunately for my credit card I did suppress most of my urges and resist the alluring marketing that seemed to suggest if I brought this (Random non-essential piece of shite), I’d be walking home with her (Random non-essential woman, with a large cleavage and a vacant look in her eyes). I did pick up a few movie soundtracks that I have really liked for a while, but have surprisingly never picked up before. Namely that of Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amelie Poulain, which is one of my favourite films; the soundtrack is just as fantastic as the film. It is largely composed on piano and accordion, and always makes me think of Paris in the early summer.
Listening to that got me in the mood to watch the film, again; which in turn, oddly, spurred me into sitting down and watching the Pianist earlier, another of my favourites. I seem to have a mini European film fest going on; maybe I’ll keep it going for the rest of the week. I haven’t watched the copy of Sophie Scholl – The Final Days I brought Monday, and now that I think about it, I wouldn’t mind watching Life is Beautiful.
My, don’t I have a social week ahead of me. I suppose a couple of quiet nights will do me good, if only to get my sleeping pattern back to normal; or at least what passes for normal with me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)