Public Eating

Confessions of The Food Hater.

Today was the occurence of the meal dedicated to the manager of the Cancer Research shop in Ross who is leaving on Saturday. I work there as a volunteer, usually Saturday mornings, but more time during the holidays.
There was a limited menu and I had to choose between two to three options on each course a few weeks previous.
I didn't know what to choose because I hadn't tried half of the food on the menu. The dessert was fine - sticky toffee pudding all the way, but I was relatively nervous ordering the other two courses. At first when I was asked by the manager what I wanted, I had to choose there and then without consultation with anyone who knows what I eat better than me.
I chose steak which was quickly followed by the question "How do you like it done?", I had no idea what to answer so I shrugged my shoulders trying not to be embarrassed and, to my relief, he took this as a 'doesn't really matter'.
Anyway, after hearing that other people were having salad I decided to quickly change to this choice instead, because, though I don't eat it, I know it's a safe option.

So the day comes, not too nervous really - I knew I could blag my way through it by messing the food up on the plate to look like I'd at least tried . .
Starter: Pate on toast. I don't remember ordering that.
Never had pate before. Layer of fat on top of the pate. The butter is too frozen to spread on the broken toast and the pate is sat there in a short cylinder at the side of the plate expecting to be knived, so I can't get away with eating only the toast and butter.
My body often acts without my mind actually being aware of a feeling - my body was nervous but my mind wasn't, hence the first thing I did was throw the knife on the floor with an inelegant tinny clatter.
Anyone for white wine? Yes please.
All too willing to try foods these days (but not too eager to try them at gatherings of people) I spread some of the pate on the toast, missing the layer of fat and i tried a very small triangle of it. It seemed nice, kind of salty. I'm not used to things having after-tastes, I'm used to block foods - nothing lingering afterwards, just immediate block tastes, so I was a bit surprised and dismayed when I had to quickly wash it down with water or wine.
I think I ate about half a piece of pate on toast and it took me the entire time that it took the other thirty guests to finish their starters.
The girl collecting the plates asked if everything was "alright" regarding my barely-started starter.
Pour a glass of water. Sip the dregs of white wine.
The next course is being dealt out - chicken and salad everyone is having. Oh, is that what I ordered?
No, I ordered feta cheese, olives and salad. I don't remember ordering the former two either.
Cold cheese has got to be the food I hate the most, just below the mixture of tuna and sweetcorn. I detest the texture of cold cheese with a passion. I thought I was going to be alright with a mouthful of wine after the first centimetre square cube, but trying another piece I retched, but I hope not noticeably, sat in the centre of the very long dining table, surrounded by volunteers tucking in to their free meal merrily. I also tried two black olives that were not to my tastes either.
I ate several pieces of vegetables and tried some chilli sauce that I thought might disguise some taste, but in vain.
I think I was drawing a bit of attention at the lack of food I was eating; at how little the large pile had reduced.
Finally after a pretty painful wait for the plates to be removedCan we get another white wine over here please?the pudding arrived.
Sticky toffee pudding in custard. Typically my forte, but not today; I just did not feel like eating after the feta cheese and embarrassingly ate with the dessert fork instead of the spoon, not feeling inclined to look like a fool swapping cutlery after realising half-way through.
My ignorance of food and it's accessories has haunted me for all of my life.

I felt like I had to write this so I can refer anyone to it when I can't describe my habits correctly.
I think this about explains it.

Sun, Sky, Rain and Metaphors

I think I'll write a note . .

"You can never spend too much on ebay."

I haven't done so in a while. And here I can ramble without the worry of boring an unvoluntarily person.

The past few days have been a strange few . . the week started brilliant with sunshine and hope and optimism - even at my super-early rising hour of half-past dawn, my attic bedroom was washed in a creamy yellow as I rose unhesitantly at the sound of Joni Mitchell's 'For Free'. On returning from the bathroom forty-five minutes later, the sun happily blinded me without apology from atop the tree-encrusted hills beyond the edge of the town. It was going to be a good day.
And indeed, I was kept engaged on the bus journey by how shockingly beautiful an utterly clear sky can be. If Yves Klein had been obsessed with sky blue I think I'd be able to understand him a little better.
It was going to be a good day. It was going to be better than Thursday when the sun appeared from behind rooftops to surprise the world like a husband presenting a yellow diamond to his genuinely shocked partner.
But it appears that the husband found himself in debt and no matter how much his wife begged for him to keep the diamond he had to sell it. The next day it rained. The sky was yesterday's blue in monochrome. The only view from the bus window was the dusty rafters of the sky. A sky that was reflected upon everything - the pavements and the windows and the roads and the people. Especially upon me. The only reason to be positive was through being thankful that there wasn't too much of a necessity to be inspired - inspiration doesn't flood my thoughts during the continuous wretchedness of an upset sky. Eventually you beg for her to cry heartily, but she will only lie with a pathetic pale face, sighing heavily with single tears dribbling down her cheek.
It's been two days since the sun smirked from the blue and I can still hear the wheels of cars crushing the small puddles that barely patronize the gutters.
I asked for these days to come when I had been bent over the kitchen table sewing an eight metre hem, and to save the sun for when I was lain on grass instead of itching my neck as I pinned the remnants of ermine stoles to the breast of the mannequin. But as contrary as it is, the weather just laughed at me out of sight above the kitchen window, while it slowly baked us inside.
It seems my will-power can deny and accept many things, but it can never ignore the emotions of Mother Nature - she cannot be controlled.
Meanwhile Mother Lesley has been on a three day holiday to Wales (likely related) with her beaux, she sent me a card that arrived today, when she arrived home. She couldn't have chosen a better card to send me - It was a humourous card but I was pleased (more pleased than I let on) that she understood me so well. I've attached it to the note.

Adieu for now.

Four Trains, Two Buses, a Mini-Bus, a Taxi and a Car

Well, today's the day we went to Bath Spa.
I awoke at 5:45AM (not a typo) surprisingly refreshed (not a typo).

It was still dark when we left the house at 6:45AM, mother having offered to take me to the station last night.
I can't say I was in the most talkative mood, making the basic agreeing noises that probably came across as silence seeing as I can't tell the difference with my ephed up left ear.
Got to le station, met Lusaaayy inside and she informed me of the price of the tickets at which hyperventilations were in order - £39.96 or some ridiculous price, instead of the £20.00 price we expected.
Oh well. Turned out I had a pair of crisp twenties tucked away in my man-purse.

Anyway, it was ephing freezing at Hereford and in Newport when we eventually got there. I nearly slipped on my face about twenty times as the platforms at Newport were soaking wet from some kind of extra-slippery rain. Plus I was wearing a pair of my special non-grip shoes.
We got loads of strange looks from people! More than in Hereford even. Who knows what they were looking at - Lu's fuschia tights or my mulberry colour based outfit? Maybe the clashage of the two? Maybe they had never seen colour before? They were pretty damn bland.
As Ms Karen Walker says: "What're you looking at? Never seen someone with money and soap before?"

Anyway, arriving at Bath Spa, after two train journeys reading the 'How To Get a Husband Guide For Despo Women' in 'MORE!' and the tales of Amy Winehouse throwing glasses of water at people that looked at her sideways in 'LOOK!' we got lost for the first time.
After pointing out the newly revamped hotel lobby on whose floor I was sick on, the trip quickly spiralled to a remake of the Birmingham open day trip we took a few weeks ago.
It was gloomy in Bath first of all - everyone looked bloody miserable, we decided to go into a shop and Lu asked the girl behind the counter how the H we got to Bath Spa university.
She told us to go down the road to the bus station and look for a bright orange bus and take that to the uni.
So we wander down to the bus depot and we see a few of these fluorescent orange buses parked by the river. They're the weird ones with a bend in the middle so they can be twice as long and bend around corners. So we waited in the freezing cold for a driver to turn up.
He was another delightfully happy person.
Anyway, the bus went on like a complete circuit of Bath stopping every two milliseconds at different bus stops to pick up more students. It being around the time college usually starts.
Eventually we leave the continuous ever so pretty terraced houses and go out onto a road, eventually coming to a private drive on an estate. Narrowly missing a sparkling Bentley coming in the opposite direction we eventually came upon the sixties campus and then to the beautiful Georgian manor house that was the centre of Bath Spa university.
So we leave the bus, and not really knowing where to go we head to the main door of the manor house. Nice automatic doors, hideous giant chandelier and reception.
"We've come for the open day." Lucy said, at which the receptionist's smile dropped.
"You've got the wrong university," she informed us "the Bath Spa Art & Design university is on the other side of Bath - at Xion." There wasn't a curse large enough. Nearly £2.00 that one way ticket had cost!
And what was with " Xion " fgs . .
Anyway. We go outside. The bus is gone. We go back in to ask for a taxi number.
Then three people came though the door, a family I presume - a mother, her daughter and her son.
The mother and daughter dressed in purple, the son with a rather full head of curly blondish hair.
They'd made exactly the same mistake as us.
So, to round it off, we all ended up sharing a taxi going directly to " Xion ". The daughter kept Lu in a state of conversation throughout the whole journey and the son added a few unanswerable quips from the back seat.
Eventually we got there and the fee was £20.00, five of which I paid for Lucy and me. So we got in, the people were very nice, very friendly, we went to a lecture about it - I swear the lecture theatre was like nine-thousand feet above sea level - it seemed so high.
It seemed very interesting and nice. The people on the demonstation video looked totally overjoyed at the fact that they were being filmed . .
I think there was like one, maybe two other boys in the whole theatre ?
So we left the theatre (I nearly barged a man to the floor with my bag) and hopped onto a mini-bus that took us to 'The Circus' where we met the pure fashion people and they told us everything and the head tutor lady told us everything and it was very hot in there and we were dying but it was good and it was pretty wonderful - it was like this little homely family on this quiet huge roundabout of Georgian houses. Very beautiful. I was really impressed.
So after like an hour we left and walked into town.
I bought some clothings from the Bath Oxfam (ohh yeaah) and we went to Jaeger followed by Reiss, both in which Lu was asked whether she needed help/would like to try anything on, to which she took great offence! Haaa!
I quite loved it there - was very wonderful.
And then eventually, after the rounds of some cool sho-OH MY GOD that small sort of gothy shop we went into and the guy was sort of Russell Brand but with more piercings (and was eyeing up Lucy) and as we were leaving guess what song he put on.
Su guess what song he put on?? I bet you can't!! Don't Stop Believing a la Journey! It was intense.
So yeah, we H&Med then did some other shops then re-found the station and homed it.
I really had a great day out - it was way amazing.
*sigh* It was good.

Okay ta!

Wine at the Jailhouse

Well, it had been a while since I had had a drink and so I decided to treat myself to a night out. Go to the 'Big Free Christmas College Party' at the Jailhouse.
Never been to the Jailhouse before.
I was quite shocked how old I felt. It was like they were all about five years my junior instead of in the year below me.
I was also quite shocked that they didn't sell wine at the jailhouse ? I frankly don't really get that? Is it like, too uncool to serve the youngsters? Not really understanding. But never ask for it. You get laughed at by the bar staff. They also seem kind of bemused when you specify what kind of gin you want in your gin and tonic.
Such a shame Bombay Sapphire isn't actually blue.
Such a shame Bombay Sapphire doesn't actually taste nice.
But that's what I drank for the evening. Apart from when I went to the Barrels. Where they sell wine but they don't sell Bombay Sapphire . . . The barmaid reeled off a list of different gins but seemed pleased when I told her to get "whatever".
My god, what was with that weird bird/alarm noise around the Manhattans area? Driving me crazy. Oh and Manhattans was dead. Like one and a half people playing pool and that was it. I said hi to the barman with the ponytail who we always see when we go in there and he just sort of looked at me blankly.
They seriously need to get a lock on the door of the cubicle in the toilets there.
On the way to the Barrels I saw the wine bar across the road. I was totally tempted to go in but it looked pretty empty.
I had a strange time last night actually. I wasn't bored at all and I wasn't completely drunk. And I spoke more than two words to only two people that night. I don't know if it was worth going out or not? It was strange.
I adore the one bus driver; he's just hilarious. Trying to overtake a four-by-four with a trailer on the road by Pengethley when I was the only one on the bus was funny. Oh and previous to that Cherry's friend came over and we were talking, I've forgotten her name completely because my memory is so extraordinarily excellent and I was surprised she knew mine. She was so drunk and very nice. I had no idea where she got off because it was so dark outside. She made my night anyway.

Today was a strange day, not quite as strangely depressing as yesterday, but still strange. And very long. It went on for several weeks. My prints were hung up on the staircase and they look good until you get close to them. Nobody got within ten feet of them anyway - they weren't exactly in the prime position for viewing I must say.
I didn't finish the story for Johnathon for the train journey to Manchester, sorry about that John!

Why is that strange Peta game about sabotaging Burberry being advertised at the side of my page? Why just Burberry?
I'm smiling to myself about Plaitford screaming at Jade down the corridor at college and Sonny being all like "uh, can we have less noise please?" after about like ten minutes of her screaming abuse. Some funny shit right there.

Well, I think my blanket has warmed up by now and I'm going to go and enjoy it's company so I shall bid you bonne nuit.

love

Happiness, Sewing, Sabotage and Coney

Francesco Scognamiglio A/W 08-09

My god.
Today.
If you have never felt depression before you will not understand.
It’s like this weight just above your heart that makes you want to die.
“Sweet mother of Mary Magdalene! How did you survive the day?” I hear you scream in worried anticipation, well!

First of all I tried to do work – I cut out paper and tried to finish a ‘dress’ I started to create seventeen decades ago and when my body simply refused to co-operate I tried to create something new.
Word of advice: Don’t try to make clothes out of nylon when you feel like an extra on the original ‘Dawn of the Dead’. It just doesn’t work.
Oh my god! And that damned jumper I was wearing (having been shrunk in wash by previous owner seeing as it was a Medium and yet moulded itself to the marrow of my bones) it was so uncomfortable and would not stay tucked in.
I apologize if I flashed any builders’ bee-hind today.
I need to stop biting my nails. I used to have will-power! What happened!!

Anyway, when I returned from textiles, with nothing to show from the half an hour I spent in there, we decided to play a little trick. And I must underline the fact that we weren’t being malicious and we weren’t trying to hurt Brady. Physically or mentally.
We sabotaged Jade’s handbag and coat.
I love how she laughed when she saw Su had sewn her bag together but when she saw I’d sewn one sleeve shut she skepped out to the max!
Anyway, I had returned from a lonesome cigarette break so I was calm and collected and dealt with the situation. And the damage to the bag and the sleeve wasn’t even noticeable. Jade will not have to buy a new coat. It’s okay.
Anyway, I would like to apologize on the behalf of Su and I. It wasn’t funny and I think we have all learnt a valuable lesson from it.
And Jade, I hope the cigarette was wonderful.

SO I was way depressed – even The Professor mentioned it, but I won’t go into too much dett-ale about that.
I left at five past two to get the half two bus. O em jee how many people want to stare at you just because you have a chain around your neck? I can understand old ladies who get confused with the whole ponytail + necklace + pointed shoes + hand-held bag = female, but modern people?
It’s a good thing that I’m into exhibitionism in a big way.

Oh yeah! Anyway, I got to Ross and headed straight for YMCA – the coney fur jacket that was to relieve all of my problems wasn’t going to be there – somebody would’ve bought it the second I left the shop the other day.
It was still there. Can you believe??
Ha, right at the back of the shop there was loads of like fake branded stuff like bags and matching belts and shoes all be-plastered with “BuRBERRYS” or “LouIS VuITTON” or “DIOR” or “CHANEL” and I was looking at them thinking “Wow, the person that donated these was way modest.”
Then this woman like appears as I’m looking at a pile of hideous brown fake Louis Vuitton logo purses and is like “That one’s fake!” and I was like “How can you tell?” just testing her, like, and she laughed and was like “you can tell by blah blah – I donated them all you know.” and I was like “…yah. How generous of you to donate them.”
Then she was like “I have a leather jacket that would suit you!” and she goes over and picks up this jacket and I’m like “oh. Yes.” And she’s stood there waiting for me to try it on. As soon as she went away I just hung it back up again and tried the fur coat on.

I liked it and bought it. And it’s now hiding upstairs away from the family with the buckets of red paint and profiteroles ready to chuck on it while screaming “FuR IS MuRDER! MuRDDDDEERRRR!!”

I love how I can go on and on about complete shit on these notes. At least you have the choice of reading it or not on here whereas in real life you can’t help but hear me drone.

So yeah, I’m tired and if you want to buy some Salvatore Ferragamo shoes I’m selling, please click here:
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&ssPageName=STRK:MESELX:IT&item=200278022292

OKAY I’m going!
Have a good one peherple

x

Manc, Fag and Ties

Yey! Manchester!

Maison Martin Margiela S/S 09

Well, i'd well like to spend more time in Manc. That's more than the ONE AND A HALF HOuRS WE SPENT THERE after a FOuR HOuR JOuRNEY THERE! And then A FOuR HOuR JOuRNEY BACK!
Seriously speaking now; I was actually thinking of suicide. The tragic thing is: I'm not even joking.
I ephing hate busses at the best of times.
And so I have made a pact: If the bus journey is longer than the time we spend at the place we're travelling to I'm NOT going.

It was tres though.
I totally adore the Manc Hilton.
Oh em jee and in the fair the guy with the moheek! He was totally tres. And OH MY GHOD that guy for the university of... Falmouth(?) was totally coming onto me. In a very monotonous voice kinda way.
He stood about an eigth of a millimetre from my face and OMG i well just got a whiff of his cologne... I love scent memories!
But he was cool. And he gave me a bag. I love how as soon as a human male specimen stranger starts talking to me I either go bright red or I become THE campest person on this solar system. I'm afraid it was much more the latter this time. God I sounded annoying.
I love how at the fair when someone stops you to invite you to look at their shit you have to like barge past them to get away.
Like we were just strolling past this woman and she's like to Lucy "Costume or fashion?" and Lucy was like "I.." and the woman was rushing away to get a pannflitt and then was like "Talk to the woman over there!" and Lucy just like turned around and walked away - it was totally funny.
It's so annoying though!
And you end up asking stupid things that you already know what the answer is like "So... is your course.. good, then?" and the representative isn't exactly going to say "Actually the projects are crepe, the people are boring, the night life is expensive and the accomodation is shack." are they?
But yeah, when you stopped speaking to one of them it just trailed off and it was just like "Yes. I shall... look it up.." and they were like "yes." And just stood in your way looking at you for the next ten and a half minutes.
Yeah.
I'd like to explore manc more. It looked pretty swell.

Ha, today was totally fun.
Mandolin was going to implode at any second I swear. We were trying to get her to crave a cigarette and we (we being Suzanne) were good. Mando was totally like doing the hand actions of holding a cigarette by the end.
LOL! hands!
"Are you going to film us Mandy?"
"No! I'm just going to film your hands."
God she's classico.
"Tomorrow you need to do research" "Fag." "um... and on.. Thursday you... need.. um.."

Oh it was a joyous and fun day INDEED.
*looks at title*
Oh my god!
And when I left college I went to Marfa Trust and then into town and Red Cross/Ambulance Aid/whatevs was just about to shut. Anyway - like a totally polite person I barge in and start looking at the ties (I collect them you know!)
I walked out about ten minutes later with 27 ties. AKA all of the ties on display.
Reason being half of them were of Major Makers (liking the alliteration there) including Lacroix, Ferre, Azzaro and Dior. But when I got home I realised that biatch behind the counter didn't give me all of them! What happened to the Mulberry and the Libertys?!
I'm gonna march back in there tomorrow and slam my fists on the counter I tell you!
I'm sorta thinking I should have gone with my first instint and just bought the ones I wanted instead of the entire lot... OH WELL

Well, better stop typing and start posten!

TARTA!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Diets, Lorries and Wigs

Well, my diet is going well.
I started back on my uber-diet the other day.
For no apparent reason.
I think i'm imagining the fact that I feel better "in myself".. i'm just eating less!
I haven't slipped up once. Well, once. That tiny square centimetre of cake that was free in the cafe in Maylords.
Ha, we were major pikie. Walk in + Grab handful of cake = Walk out
It was good cake.

This new camera of mine is totally cool seeing as it takes like a thousand pictures in one second, but it doesn't take as good-a picture as The Brick. Oh well! It records a basic image of what I want - it's cool!

Methinks Cherry was a bit freeked when I told her I had several books based on the subject of Etiquette on the bus home today.. They're interesting! Some tips for the rugged:
- A gentleman always walks on the side of the pavement closest to the road when walking with a lady but it is seen tactless for either to insist on this position
- A lady is expected not to reply if a gentleman greets her first, a gentleman shall wait for the lady to greet him
- Always remove gloves when shaking hands with a person, unless your hands are manked to the max.
And it goes on.

*looks at title*
Oh yes!

Well, let's just say, my sister and I had an experience while on the way home yesterday.
There's this like major junction thing going the back way (the Deliverance way) home and we were behind this police car (we were thanking beejeezuss that he was in front by the time the journey was over) and Raven was like "Is there anything coming your way?" I was like "No." She was like *pulls out* I was like "There's a lorry.."
Coming her way was a twenty five hundred wheeler lorry.
The evening sun was beginning to pierce the windshield, a slight gust of autumn air caught freshly fallen leaves that stirred like a disturbed school of golden fish. The road was dry indigo with amber streaks of dirt from a long passed tractor.
The lorry managed to swerve slightly as Raven yelped and hesitated for a second, but then we were back on the right side of the road going in the right direction and it was fine.
All fine.
Raven was a tad panicky I think.
I was very surprised at how little I reacted. My impending doom didn't disturb me in the slightest. I think the baby pink faux-fur seat covers and matching dice disturbed me more actually.

I think that's about it for now, my log.
I seriously should get around to posting entries when something actually happens..

TA!

Oh i forgot the wigs part!
Raven is going out to like the last viewing of Mamma Mia or something. I offered her Andro's platinum wig, but apparently it "isn't made for humans". Oh well. I don't think Agnetha's hair was that curly anyway.

God, because my letter "u" is broken on my laptop keyboard I have to keep copying and pasting my "u"s and it is so annoying (yes, every u in this entry has been CnPed) And now at college when using the computers I keep pressing ctrl + v to cnp the u... God it's annoy!

LOVE