| green, green with envy.... |
[12 Aug 2004|7:46pm] |
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the rasmus: if you ever |
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my parents are utter bastards. yeah, you heard me. the instant that they jet off for fourteen sunny days in Cyprus - leaving me all alone in the house and duty bound to perform countless daily tasks with no discernible point - the weather decides it's had enough of August and is going to piss it down for hours and blow a gale that is currently knocking all the bloody plant pots over. I find this painfully unamusing. *fumes* gah.
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| oh my poor confused brain |
[07 Jul 2004|1:53pm] |
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zero 7 : somersault |
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oh dear, fandom is seriously warping my brain. I've been catching up with my reading lately, now that I have acres of free time on my hands, and I'm more into it than ever. however, it's had a curious effect on me in the fact that now when I watch TV or movies, I'm genuinely surprised when the main actor starts a relationship with a woman. I actually do the famous double-take — oh, right, this is the Real WorldTM — which has earned me many odd looks from my compatriots. it seems I'm actually attuned to slash now; I expect to see it everywhere.
then again, maybe that's not such a bad thing. I like being obsessed with slash. it's just a little disappointing that we don't see it (and its acceptance) more often in our closed little world.
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| hairy questions.... |
[11 Jun 2004|2:18pm] |
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sean paul + blu cantrell: breathe |
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why is it that no matter how carefully you shave, no matter how closely you inspect your limbs after doing so or how many times you check by running your hand over your leg, there are always four or five little hairs that escape your razor? and they are invariably in a prominent place - say, oh, on your knee - so that when you're sitting there wearing your best skirt at that job interview / important meeting / first date, there is a cadre of little buggery hairs waving merrily from your leg, proclaiming you to be not only completely incompetent at even the most simple of daily tasks, but also a hairy weirdo on a par with a yak or other similarly hirsute creature. gah. life is unfair, and as soon as I'm rich enough and can be at all bothered, I am going to get electrolysis. everywhere. but then, that's probably more than you needed to know 
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| spare me |
[27 May 2004|9:55pm] |
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the sound of my anger |
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he's just said "fucking Jesus". he actually said that on TV at 9:50 in the evening. *sigh* I just hate him far, far too much.
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| muse muse muse... |
[27 May 2004|9:38pm] |
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Gordon Ramsey: Sonata de Fuck |
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due to the time-consuming nature of my revision and my complete lack of ability to concentrate on anything, my mind has been wandering of late, and I have come to a few conclusions.
1. I would like France to beat England in their Euro 2004 opener. I really would. crashing and burning in such spectacular fashion - to France, no less - would be generally very amusing. it would just be a kick in the goolies to all those irritating types who think football is so important that they need to go breaking shop windows, burning flags and beating up random passersby. I don't think it's an understatement to say I hate them, and I don't care if that's prejudice because the whole concept of football hooliganism just makes me want to throw things at people. preferably really, really pointy things.
2. Gordon Ramsey is one of the most irritating people on earth. I don't shirk from the odd epithet myself, but for goodness' sake, this man takes it to ludicrous extremes. Exhibit A: "I'm just going to fuck off to the kitchen." I mean, quoi? surely one could nip to the kitchen, pop to the kitchen, or even - if one wished to horrify English teachers up and down the country - simply go to the kitchen. one does not need to fuck anything. at least not when it has anything to do with Gordon Ramsey.
3. I don't care about Mitterrand's presidency and if I have to learn one more thing about it while my friends watch Fight Club, eat biscuits and generally enjoy themselves, well then my mind might spontaneously explode.
in two weeks of revision, this is what I have learned.
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| emotional deformity |
[20 Apr 2004|12:20pm] |
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angie palmer: footprints in the snow |
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ahahaha. have been reading back through entries in a horribly self-indulgent fashion and have realised that I have used the word "bitter" in roughly 75% of my posts. I fear there may be an omen here.
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| musings on fandom |
[19 Apr 2004|4:15pm] |
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angie palmer: less than I need you |
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is it wrong to be completely turned off a fic because of bad "britishisms"? it's like bad grammar, although slightly less annoying. the odd one or two isn't too horrifying, but when it's recurring it just makes me go "urk" and want to go somewhere else. which is a shame, really, because I know there are a quite a few outstanding fics out there that I have had to abandon because I couldn't stand the language squick-factor.
there are differences in food — zucchini, eggplant and misuse of the word jelly all annoy me — but my pet hate at the moment has to be "wank off". I even saw one fic the other day that had Harry and co. hatching a plan to be put into action after Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving. come on, people. that's a pretty big mistake.
maybe I'm being over the top. maybe I'm just bitter that we're thrown in at the deep end of US shows, films and books and just left there to flounder in our ignorance. we seem to manage Americanisms without special dispensation, so why should it be overlooked the other way around? I know there are American writers who run their work by a "Brit-beta" — I have done and am willing to do the same for anyone who asks — so there is really no room for error.
maybe I'm just kicking up a fuss because there is finally — finally — a legitimate and pretty bloody huge fandom full of wonderful British characters, and not just English people being played by Californians who can't say "bollocks" properly. 'tis bliss, I tell you. bliss.
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| the touch of your hand says you'll catch me.... |
[23 Mar 2004|12:03pm] |
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ronan keating: when you say nothing at all |
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I had a dream last night that I was making marmalade. this is unutterably weird, considering that I have never made marmalade in my life, never eat it, and in fact have no desire to have anything to do with it. nevertheless, the fact remains. I'm not entirely sure I was doing it the right way, however. my grandmother used to make jam, and I'm fairly certain she did not go about it by haphazardly distributing liquidised fruit, four bags of sugar and a tub of creme fraiche into the confines of the world's smallest frying pan. but then again, perhaps I'm wrong. how do you make marmalade? surely it involves time and effort, no? and, probably, no creme fraiche.
go on, enlighten me.
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| all the leaves are brown and the sky is grey.... |
[27 Feb 2004|8:30am] |
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mamas + papas: california dreamin' |
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it snowed again last night. again. the fun just never stops in durham. just when the daffodils come out and you think it's safe to start expecting spring, the arctic winds sweep in and freeze you to the spot. I'm fed up and cannot wait until next year's jolly jaunt to spain. then I can drink sangría, get a tan, and laugh at the poor old sods left here in the wilderness. mwahaha.
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| never had a voice to protest.... |
[24 Feb 2004|11:36am] |
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corey taylor: bother |
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saw the league of extraordinary gentlemen last night. my goodness, that's an abominably bad film redeemed only slightly, in my opinion, by Stuart Townsend being outrageously attractive and louche. my main complaint is with Sean Connery, who continues to astound me with his relentless and unapologetic sameness in everything he does. he's always playing Sean Connery. or, more accurately, he's always playing his own estimation of Sean Connery: sage mentor, action hero, and roguish bedder of inappropriately youthful women. the only time I've ever actually liked him was in indiana jones and the last crusade and that's mostly because Harrison Ford is similarly guilty.
the main problem with the film in general is that it seems to expect you to just know who all the protagonists are, even though they've made some of them up and most of the rest are wildly inaccurate. since when was mr. hyde a 7-foot muscle-bound monster? why does the vampire keep wandering around in daylight? what the fook is up with that portrait thing? these are questions left largely unanswered, although it just might be possible I missed some vital exposition because I was laughing too hard. I suppose in that regard I should not condemn the film too harshly. yes, it was an hour and three quarters of incoherent dross, but it was insanely entertaining even if for the wrong reasons.
and, lest we forget, Stuart Townsend is fit. wowza.
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| return to me salvation.... |
[16 Feb 2004|7:37pm] |
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evanescence: tourniquet |
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oh lord. I have just spent three hours — count them! three! — perusing a Tom Felton fansite. I now believe myself to be incurably insane.
I know this obsession is with Draco and not with young Mr. Felton himself, because firstly, you can't get better than fanon!Draco, and secondly, the aforementioned actor is currently in the throes of what we will call, for want of delicacy, adolescence. he's past the cute!Tom phase he occupied during the philosopher's stone and not quite into the sexy!Tom phase we all hope he will achieve in adulthood. instead, for the next couple of years at least he will be be saying silly things, subsisting on testosterone, and sporting the worst of all teenage ills: curtains.
also, he may be catching fish, but that's another story.
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| now I will tell you what I've done for you.... |
[14 Feb 2004|10:58am] |
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evanescence: going under |
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heh. french version of harry potter is completely weird as all the names have been changed and consequently there is no point of reference. draco malfoy becomes drago malefoy, hogwarts is poudlard, etc. it seems particularly weird to me because the spanish translation keeps everything as it is in the original. is the story not understandable to french-only speakers if the names stay in english? because if this is the case then it is irritating, since I and my compatriots have been repeatedly forced to read all manner of french literary hoo-hah with no equivalent Stupid English Speaker concessions. bitter.
hmm. on second thought, perhaps the fact that a wand becomes a "baguette magique" is compensation enough. the image this creates is unfeasibly amusing, especially when applied to voldemort. "no, dark lord! I will not submit to your fresh bread produce!" it certainly gives the death eaters a whole new dimension that jkr probably never envisaged.
or so I assume.
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| I'll tell you once again.... |
[04 Feb 2004|4:19pm] |
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michael jackson: bad |
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oh my. is there anyone on tv cuter than Ant and Dec? I have been watching i'm a celebrity — gmooh! (which incidentally must be pronounced in exaggerated cowlike gah-mooooo fashion), and they are just... aaahh. so wonderfully sweet and amusing and subtexty in a completely innocent way. I just love them to bits without wanting in any way to ravage either of them. this is something new for me. I just want them to sit in the corner of the living room and make snarky comments about Peter André's dancing and Jordan's breasts.
I think it may be love.
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| how fickle fate can be.... |
[02 Jan 2004|8:50pm] |
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beth orton: she cries your name |
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oh dear, the financial situation is beginning to be very unfunny. thankfully I didn't spend much at the new year's eve shindig, but unfortunately I more than made up for it today. not only did I have to pay the gas, electricity, water, phone and TV bills for last term, but I also had to renew the subscription for the messageboard. this was $67, five of which were very generously donated to me by ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) saladbunny. shout-out! she is a star and I love her to bits.
nevertheless, even 62 dollars is a lot of money and my pockets are now very empty. perhaps I shouldn't have such expensive hobbies. not so much website-owning and more, oh, I don't know... birdwatching or something. I live in the country, it could work.
oh meh. I just want to have money, is that too much to ask? any money would do. at this rate I am heading for the exciting career of bag lady, possibly moonlighting as a crazy subway heckler.
promising.
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| to england where my heart lies.... |
[02 Jan 2004|2:24pm] |
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simon & garfunkel: kathy's song |
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well. new year's eve was pretty crap, even by my standards. I had to rush out of the house all dishevelled and completely sober because Tim and Jon had buggered up the ticket distribution, then when I got there I didn't know anyone except the aforementioned idiots, and I didn't really want to talk to them. thankfully Ems arrived very soon after (similarly inconvenienced by ticket shenanigans) and we giggled in a corner for a bit.
Lu, Kate and Andy didn't turn up until 10 o'clock. this is two and a half hours after they said they were going to get there, but then this is what I have come to expect from them. they are even worse time keepers than me. apparently Lu and Andy had been arguing about, quote, "everything", which does not surprise me either. they do this every new year's eve: they get pissed off at each other all night right up until the clock strikes twelve when they start hugging everyone and cyring and pledging their undying love. I have made it my new year's resolution to completely ignore their silliness in future.
just to make the night worse — if it could get worse than being in the Pudding and Pye (the Pye, I tell you! my God!) with Jon's weird 17-year-old friends — I was ridiculously sober all night. and it wasn't through lack of trying. I think being a student has made me immune to alcohol unless in exceptionally large quantities. or unless it is wine. I am very silly on wine. but you can't buy wine in a pub, unfortunately, because the only people who do are posh, old, or pretentious. isn't fair.
oh well. happy 2004 everyone.
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| no use to sit and wonder why when you don't know why not.... |
[30 Dec 2003|12:57pm] |
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bob dylan: don't think twice it's alright |
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oh dear God. it would seem that I am embarking on an italian translation of the site. my italian is nothing to write home about, but I have the help of a luvvlie italian girl called Irene who will be doing the lion's share. I am constantly amazed by these people who want to help me when they get no reward except my undying thanks. I guess I'm somewhat blessed.
at the same time: not another bloody translation. the french version took it out of me, and I know how to speak that. I do not anticipate language three being completed before doomsday. anyone up for spanish...?
I think I need some chocolate.
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