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Friday 4 October 2002
For Valentine's Day 2001, I wrote Bryn a silly, soppy and incredibly rude poem. It began:
"How is it that I love thee?
I love the way you laugh
You get the idea. The following summer, I rewrote "Bank Holiday" by Blur, so it was called "Bryn H*******" (note: Bryn's surname doesn't sound altogether unlike 'Holiday'). The original song contains the line, "Bank holiday comes six times a year" - it doesn't take much imagination to see what it could be modified to. And last Valentine's Day, I wrote the similarly dodgy Why You're Better Than A Werebear. A couple of days before Bryn's birthday (2nd October), I thought, "Oh, God, will I have to write another poem?" I was hoping he'd forgotten about this tradition, but no, I got an e-mail saying, "Am I getting a poem?" As I was rather devoid of ideas, and unable to focus on anything other than CD reviews for Kaleidoscope magazine (as run by the Sittingbourne goths I met a few weeks ago - I ended up with ten CDs to review in, ooh, all of two days!), I didn't have time to write one for the day, but at 1.40am last night - still not sleepy - inspiration struck. It's not the best poem I've ever written, but here it is, for posterity. In spite of the title, this one isn't all that rude, really! Taking Off Zed's Bra
Brynny is amazing.
He can do it through a t-shirt,
But Zeddy doesn't like it.
Why does Bryn like saggy tits?
Yet Brynny takes Zed's bra off
What Brynny doesn't realise
Bras are quite hard to put back on
And that, oh foolish Brynny,
Zed thinks Brynny should grow some breasts,
Then Zeddy would undo Bryn's bra
Both are frustrating options
So if your girlfriend's got big tits,
Sunday 6 October 2002
Here is one of Ibid's traditional birthday poems, for Meaghan, whose e-mail account is currently dead. Ibid does not know Meaghan, but I asked her to write one anyway, because I was too creatively drained after the CD reviews and Bryn's poem to come up with one myself. Anyway, my work pales in comparison to the wonder of Ibid's:
A poem I am commisioned to write
Someone wrote to me a while ago on account of my tribute to werebears asking if I knew where she could get one, since her boyfriend desperately wanted one, and she wanted to impress him. Since they don't make werebears anymore, and I wasn't willing to part with my mine, today, I summoned the courage to phone Noj and ask if he would let go of his. He said, yeah, of course, so two people will be very happy!
Zed: bringing people and werebears together since 2002!
(Really, you wouldn't believe the number of people who've written to me on account of my werebears tribute. Yes, it is the only page about that sort of werebear on the Internet and if you do a search for them at Yahoo, my page is the first of 1400 to be listed! But I'm surprised so many people remember them and think to look them up.)
Tuesday 8 October 2002
Ok, two people on my livejournal friends list dyeing their hair blue in the space of a couple of entries? I think this says something about my friends . . .
Wednesday 9 October 2002
Last night I went to my first LGBT meeting ever. I normally go to Anime Society on Tuesdays, and as they show entire series over the course of a few weeks, missing any episodes is a Very Bad Idea (tm). And I do rather like the series they're showing at the moment ("Full Metal Panic"). But it sounded like it was going to be an interesting discussion at LGBT and I thought I'd meet some cool friendly open-minded people there, and I wanted to go at least once - it's just one of those things I felt I should do before I left university. I'm interested in sexuality, and why should gay people be the only ones who get meetings to talk frankly about sex in a non-pervy manner? (Ok, I'm pretty sure the women's society does too, but ewww. Despite being the odd one out among LGBT people, I identify more with that group than with "women", a portion of society I technically belong to.) Anyway, *all* the meetings are going to clash with Anime Society, so this one seemed as good to go to as any.
But initially, it was terrifying. I was heading there quite resolutely, but I ran into Trevor en route, and if he hadn't had other things to do, I might have talked to him for longer, and go, "Oh, it's too late to go in now. Nevermind!"
The problem is, everyone who's been at university for more than a couple of weeks (which now incorporates the entire student body) will have seen me around. I've never met anyone who's said they've never seen me before. I'd look quite distinctive even if I didn't dress as I do - there's not many Caucasian people around here with dyed black hair and glasses - but the huge boots and garish tights not only make me recognisable, but stand out from the crowd.
And so, I went in, knowing that everyone was going to think, "Ahahaha! *She's* bi or lesbian!" Worse still, what if anyone there actually knew me and jumped to the conclusion, "Oh, she must have split up with Bryn, and has decided to go for girls instead. It's *that* story again! Grr!"?
But, after sitting in a corner wishing I wasn't there for a while, someone spoke to me, and that put me more at ease, and I managed to come out, as it ere, as straight to a number of people. Afterwards, I went with some people to a bar, and hung out for the next two hours, and with them, I had and heard more frank discussions than ever before (except with Bryn). My judgement was right - I did have a good time.
It'll be back to Anime Society next week though. LGBT are having a video night, and when they asked for suggestions, I foolishly said, 'Get Real', as I have it on video. Then the majority of people voted for that and 'Rocky Horror', which - naturally - I've seen before as well.
Anyway, afterwards I went to indie / alternative / rock night at The Venue. Despite the pantsness of the last one and the apparent lack of changes the Student Union had implemented to the night since Anna The Goth complained to them about it, I thought that, as secretary of the Rock Societyyyyy, I should put in an appearance, even if only a brief one. Since it only cost £2 to get in, it wouldn't be too great an expense, but I decided to keep my coat on all the same.
As I approached The Venue, the music that emanated made me think, "What the beep?" It was, like, bhangra. I went inside anyway (I'd bought my ticket in advance), and it was full of people - how do I say this politcally correctly - from ethnic minorities (in this country, anyway)? Which there's nothing wrong with, but it really didn't look like an indie night. Had it been cancelled? Does "indie" suddenly mean "from India" rather than "independent"? However, I asked the bouncer what was going on, and he said the indie night was happening downstairs.
Dude! Downstairs is the big part of The Venue! The bit that actually feels like a nightclub and has a proper dancefloor and a decent sound system! And they'd actually given it to us, the deviant rockers, instead of the well-behaved ethnic minorities!
So I went downstairs and they were playing semi-industrial! Mint!
It wasn't a bad night, music-wise, at all. I was surprised, although it must be said, the organisation of the set-list left something to be desired. The DJ played Andrew WK, followed by Cypress Hill, followed by The Specials at 1.30am (half an hour before closing time). All these acts are more-or-less relevant to the night, but none of them hugely popular, and they're all big dividers in opinion - I thought the aim was to thicken the crowd on the dance floor as the night went on, not thin it? Methinks the DJ needs to expand his CD collection and fast. Also, for the first time ever, I heard "Peaches" by The Stranglers played at a club. I was like, "Funchie!" because The Stranglers rule and not enough people realise this . . . but this was also after midnight, and it 1) is not that widely known and 2) requires icky trendy bottom-wiggling dance moves.
And, of course, flipping "Killin' In The Name Of" got played. I hid in the toilets and rambled to some poor unsuspecting girls about how sick of it I was.
It was just as well I turned up really, as neither Sleeve (president) or John (publicity officer) did. Tut tut. In fact, there was an incredible lack of people I recognised. I'm used to knowing by sight nearly everyone at rock nights - but The Beercart Arms is filling up with strangers, and this was even worse. The representatives of the second year, third year and beyond that I noticed seemed to consist solely of me, Chris, Nick, Iain, Sophie and her friend, Kathy, The Indie Boys, a guy in some of my lectures, and one of the girls in the toilets, though there were probably a handful of others. The place was packed though - hooray for Freshers! They rule after all!
Wednesday 9 October 2002
I am being stalked by someone who goes by the name of Ducttape. He denies it, yet everywhere I go, he turns up too, so I don't believe it.
I am arguing with a complete stranger by e-mail about the pros and cons of pink fluffy handcuffs. Naturally, I am in favour of them. Really, is there anything more degrading and consequently kinky than being rendered helpless by fluffy pinkness?
Saturday 12 October 2002
Superb!
I've been really lonely this weekend so far, and Bryn, my first choice of companion, has been away re-enacting so I haven't been able to communicate with him. But I've just had a phonecall from Dale, asking if I want to go to a party at his house.
Just what I need! Funchie!
Sunday 13 October 2002
Ok. Although the armchairs at Dale's house are very comfortable, as armchairs go, they are, nevertheless, firm-armed armchairs. Which means they are very uncomfortable to sleep in unless you're a midget. And, though I'm short, I'm not quite that bad.
Nevertheless, I had a better night's sleep in one of them, with three boys and a girl laughing and shouting while playing a Star Trek board game (which caused Sarah The Vice Goth to receive death threats, because she called it "Space Trek") feet away from me, and two dogs wishing to curl up on my lap, than I get in my own bed, alone and in (relative) silence.
There is something very wrong with this. Tonight, despite Hazel's bad experience with it, I'm sleeping on the sofa.
The night was fairly enyojable, although it wasn't much of a party: just Stef, Dale, Iain, Sarah The Vice Goth, Lawrence and moi, which made for quite a strange experience because for the first time since I've come to Kent, I was in the company of a group of people where the number of people capable of pronouncing "bath" and "castle" properly matched the number who couldn't!
We watched "Unbreakable", which wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. Sarah The Vice Goth declared a wish to play Twister, so, since Dale didn't have it, she made a version of it. This was not much fun, because instead of simply spinning a wheel to determine who moved next, Dale was put in charge of unfolding bits of paper and stating the body part and colour, which took him forever because he was rather out of it, so we had to hold our awkward poses for hours. Sarah The Vice Goth's mad ballet sk1llz paid off: she won.
Also, we watched Kerrap Interactive for long enough for most videos to appear at least three times. The guitar solo of "November Rain" got stuck in my head as a result, which is annoying because the only version of it I own lacks it. And I finally heard something by Tenacious D - a name I've heard repetitively throughout the last few months, but never heard anything by. We laughed a lot, and I decided "Wonderboy" would be better titled "Wonderbra". "Wonderbra, what is the secret of your power?" We also thought the video would have been much cheaper to make with that title, and decided it should concern transvestites.
When I got back to campus, I went to a Scriptwriting Society meeting, which was q. cool. We're supposed to be putting on An Evening Of New Writing next term - and I have an idea for what to write.
Wednesday 16 October 2002, 5.36pm: Zed 4 (Last Year's) President
I am now the president of the Rock Societyyyyyy! Sleeve stepped down, because he stopped enyojing it. Bryn is very pleased that as of Saturday, he, like me, will be able to claim, "I slept with the president."
The Beercart was fairly boring on Monday night. That was the general consensus, but no one could put their fingers on exactly why. The most entertaining part of the evening was Sarah The Vice Goth's supposedly hold-up stockings falling down repetitively.
On Tuesday morning, I had to supervise ickle firsties. In fifty minutes, exactly three people required a few seconds of my help.
After a soporific lecture, I decided against Doing Presidential Stuff, in favour of having a relaxing time in the computer room. Unfortunately the fire alarm went off, so I got on with presiding after all. At 3, I had to teach some other ickle firsties. Once again, exactly three people required my assistance.
I hung out with Lex for a bit, went home to have a shower, hung out with Soppygit and went to Anime Society. In the middle of "Full Metal Panic", LGBT raided my stash of slashy videos in order to show "Get Real". Does this make me the university slash dealer? I hope so. That's even better than being President of the Rock Society.
After Anime soc, I went to indie night at The Venue. They checked my bag at the door and confiscated my sleeping tablets (I've been having terrible trouble sleeping of late). Which sucked immensely, partly because it was totally unnecessary - they were clearly prescription drugs, and not very strong ones at that. I suppose if I put all 26 in someone's drink, it could be harmful, but do I really look like a date-rapist? Actually, in my long PVC skirt avec huge slit up the side (naturally, it was really windy, like on the other occasion I wore it), possibly, but I've been going there for two years! They should that I do no harm beyond accidentally stepping on some innocent people's toes.
Anyway, as I have to take a pill two hours before going to sleep, rather than recovering them at 2am and being stuck awake until 4 (I had a nine o'clock lecture this morning), I took one before going in, then had to leave after two hours.
I didn't mind too much in the event, because it was fairly poo. It was held upstairs again and there was no space to dance. People were continually pushing past me and at 12.30, the volume of the music halved, making it far less appealing. But the music in itself wasn't bad - they played Yoj Division, although Soppygit and I both agreed it wasn't quite the same without Ibid bouncing up and down in glee upon recognising the opening. Also, I had some good conversations in the toilets, so it wasn't a completely wasted evening.
This afternoon, I had to go into Canterbury to book Bryn an appointment with a hairdresser, since he has a job interview on Tuesday, but, hotly as he denies it, the general consensus is that his current hairstyle is fast becoming a mullet. It's a shame it has to be cut, because he's trying to grow it again, but his need for a job is greater than his need for funchie hair.
While I was in town, I thought I'd go to HMV to get the voucher the rock soc is giving out to the best dressed person on the Hallowe'en pub crawl. And, since Queens Of The Stone Age have won me over, just like everyone else, and The Beercart Arms and Venue keep torturing me by getting "No One Knows" stuck in my head, I thought I'd get their album too.
But, on my way to the metal section, I decided to take a peek at the list of "recommended metal albums". I couldn't read the last one, without crouching down, but for some reason I decided to check it out anyway. And it was - eee! The new Lacuna Coil album, whose existence I keep forgetting about!
So that had to be acquired. But it came with a free CD that showcases some new bands. I'd already heard the music of two of them, because I reviewed it for the university radio station in March. Ooh, I feel so cutting edge!
Thursday 17 October 2002
The good news is that Ducttape, Jinnie and Andy (bloke from Adventure Gaming Society) appear to have stopped stalking me.
The bad news is that Trevor, Tom, Becky, Melanie and some bloke who goes to the Beercart Arms who looks a bit like Sleeve appear to have started stalking me.
Last night, I fell asleep before my anti-depressant (which I'm taking for the sedative side effects) kicked in. Yesssss! I was plagued by nightmares, as usual, though. I was watching / starring in a very violent modern-day version of "Brighton Rock", in which Liz Lowlife had a cameo role, and I was told to burn all my hair off with a lighter.
Bryn reckons the nightmares are the anti-depressant's fault. Has he been listening when I've recounted my dreams to him for the last few years?
In happier news, I appear to have become The Official UKC Converter Of People To Nine Inch Nails Love. Heed:
* A few weeks ago, Bryn asked if he could borrow a few of my NIN CDs to take to work, since the only leisure activities he's permitted to do there in the long gaps between being given work to do are sending e-mail and listening to music. And, much as I would like to, I don't have time to send him e-mails all day long. With "Pretty Hate Machine", he was well impressed (although of course he already knew half the songs from Slimelight).
* Then, one night at The Beercart Arms, they played "Head Like A Hole" (as usual) and Soppygit said, "Is this Nine Inch Nails?" I answered in the affirmative, and she asked me if I'd copy the album for her. I couldn't, because Bryn had accidentally left it in a bag he left at Re-Enactor Anna's house, which he'd told Anna to put in a Very Safe Place That No One Other Than Her Would Ever Find. She then proceeded to leave town for two weeks. However, it will be copied, upon the CD's retrieval.
* One day, I was wearing my Nine Inch Nails hoodie, when a girl came up to me, and said, "Dude! Someone else on campus likes Nine Inch Nails!" "Come to The Pit and The Beercart Arms - they play NIN there," I urged, and she gave me her e-mail address to put on the rock soc mailing list.
* At The Pit, Mel - a fresher I'd been writing to about the rock society before term started - introduced herself to me. We got talking, and she asked if I could make a copy of "The Downward Spiral" for her. She offered me one of "Further Down The Spiral" in exchange.
* I forgot who'd asked me for the CD (it was a long night), so I sent a message to the rock society mailing list, asking that person to reveal herself. A few days later, a girl asked me, "You know how you copied 'The Downward Spiral' for someone? Well, could you copy it for me too?" I agreed, and discovered that she lacked "And All That Could Have Been" too, and said I'd burn that as well.
* On my way home one day, rock soc Nat (I think) who was slightly ahead of me turned round and said, "You know that song that goes 'Bow down before the one you serve'?"
"'You're going to get what you deserve!'" I joined in. "Yes?"
"Is it by Nine Inch Nails?"
"Yes," I said.
"Thanks. I'm going to get it when I go home," she said.
* And today, I was wearing my NIN hoodie again, when a bloke in my Discrete Mathematics class said, "Hey, I've got some CDs, check them out." Slightly baffled, I did - there was a fair bit of industrial metal amongst it, including "Broken" - and I voiced my approval. He said, "Do you have any other NIN albums?" And so, I agreed to burn him "Pretty Hate Machine" (upon its retrieval), "And All That Could Have Been" and my "Perfect Drug" and "Burn" MP3s.
And, since I felt like sending Ibid a care package anyway, and she accepted my offer of a mix CD, so I'll probably stick some NIN on that as well . . .
Sunday 20 October 2002
GAH! Since I was intending to go to the circusssssss this afternoon, but lacked the funds to purchase a ticket, I went to campussssssss to use the cash machine, and decided to stock up on bread while I was at it. But the campus shop had beep-all in the way of bread, apart from Pennysave.
Now, I'm not snobby about bread, really - I actually like Wonder Bread - but if Pennysave were to ever earn enough to advertise, their slogan would be something like, "Why wait a week for your bread to go stale? Buy Pennysave: ready-staled!" (Like 'ready-salted', only an anagram.)
A couple of hours later, I confided in Soppygit about my dilemma, and she said, "Oh, they had loads of bread when I went in there a little later."
At the circusssssss, I complained to Bryn about the sorenessssssss of my lips (not because I'm whiny, but because I wanted him to stop poking them). One of the possible side effects of the medication I've been taking is swollen lips, and mine have gone truly horrible. Since there's a chemist'ssssssss fairly near the circusssssss location, afterwards he suggested I went there for some lip balm or Blisteze . . . but it was closed. Also nearby was a supermarket, so I went there, intending to get some bread too, but as I stepped through the automatic doors, an official bloke told me, "We're shut."
So I went back to the campussssss shop, but not only was there sod-all in the way of lip soothing products, but no bread aside mingin' Pennysave!
Anyway. Bryn visited for the weekend. Vaguely interesting stuff that happened:
* Played Warhammer for the first time in months, and WON, for the second time ever. Admittedly, when I won, I only had three men and an organ gun left on the battlefield, when my initial army had around a hundred men in it, but it matters not.
* Went to Nisha's fetish birthday party. Most attendees had the sense to get changed at her house, but not us. Bryn went for the safe option of my Exceedingly Smelly PVC trousers and his mesh top; I wore my knee-length PVC coat (fastened, over my PVC mini-skirt and fishnet cropped top), fishnet stockings and New New Rocks. We decided to get a taxi home afterwards, and not just because it was beeping cold.
* Saw "Red Dragon". I now have an incentive to watch "Silence Of The Lambs", which will mean that whenever the only decent rentable film is "Hannibal" (as it often is), I can get it without thinking, "Nah, I want to see the others first." Hooray!
* Went to Moscow State circusssssss (in case you hadn't guessssssed)! We had half-price tickets, courtesy of Re-Enactor Anna and Treefrog, which was just as well, because we had surckin' seats (but it was our fault, as we only showed up ten minutes before the performancccccccce). Nevertheless, twas groovig.
I am on the guest list for Black Celebration (concert, next Sunday, featuring Apoptygma Berzerk, Sheep On Drugs, Sulpher, The Chaos Engine and four other bands). Mint!
Tuesday 22 October 2002
Beercart last night, as usual. Nothing much of interest to report. The only anomally was that Matt, probably the night's most regular patron, wasn't there. But it was better than the week before, though the DJ playing White Zombie, Ministry and Type O Negative in quick succession shortly after I arrived probably had a lot to do with changing my mood from "I really can't be bothered with this anymore" to "W00tw00tw00t!" Nevertheless, the moshpit was more vicious than I'd ever seen it - I didn't dare stand in the same half of the pub as it.
Something very weird that happened last Monday, though, that I forgot to mention: I saw Anna The Goth wearing trousers. The extreme wrongness of this situation can only really be appreciated if you know Anna The Goth, but if you don't, take my word for it, it was a sight that could give you nightmares for weeks. Not because she looks bad in them, just because I - and the rest of the world - have never seen her clad in any bottom-half-wear other than Skirts Of Extreme Gothicness.
I don't know, first Stef in trousers, now Anna. The entire fabric of the universe lies in tatters!
This evening at Anime soc I saw the film "Spirited Away". It is soooooo good!
Wednesday 23 October 2002
GAH! My anti-depressants have completely vanished! As has my "Pretty Hate Machine + extras" CD - did I listen to it so much that I've worn it out of existence? I attempted to report these disappearances to the lost property office this morning, except I couldn't find that either! It's never been the easiest locale to track down, but this morning's expedition to that area of campus left me utterly baffled as to where it was hiding.
Nevertheless, I managed to get to sleep without the anti-depressants, which was quite surprising because when I went to bed my mind was churning with ideas like "ask parents to leave me their toaster in their will" and "pornify industrial band names, starting with Sixty Nine Inch Nails".
I dreamed that Anna The Goth and myself were putting on a goth night in Keynes JCR. Mint!
I am wearing almost matching socks today. I feel this should go down in history, as history can be very boring, and oral sex can make it far more enyojable. I mean, because I never wear matching socks.
This is not simply because I subscribe to Ibid's theory of assymmetry, for although I approve of it very strongly, to the point of contemplating wearing mismatched shoes, wearing mismatched socks means the sock monster can more easily get away with his sock theft without being noticed, and this must not be permitted.
However, my sock drawer contains at least twenty five pairs of tights, and consequently, to find a single sock within it is a rare occurrence. There certainly isn't time to forage for socks until I find a pair that match, if I wish to have a Rich And Fulfilling Existence, which I do, although a Poor And Fulfilling one is looking far more likely, due to an increasing need to get hold of a copy of the Type O Negative album featuring "My Girlfriend's Girlfriend". Also, the fact that every week, some careers service guy sends me a list of job vacancies, along with the message, "You need to apply for several of these jobs this term", which scares me into strengthening my resolve to become a lifelong student and postdoctorate person, underpaid or otherwise.
But today, the first two socks I withdrew were both purple. Slightly different shades of purple, yes, but nevertheless, far more similar than my usual acquisitions. They even matched the tights I was wearing on my arms!
Easily pleased? Me?
Thursday 24 October 2002
Jubilation!
1. David Belbin sent me a free pre-release copy of his new novel "The Last Virgin", because I answered a novel-related query concerning goth clothing for him. And I am thanked on the final page of the book!!! My name has been included in a published book, at last! If being published is my greatest dream, then this has been my second greatest for a long time. W00t!!!
Twas a most enyojable read, too.
2. When I walked into HMV yesterday, intending to buy That Type O Negative album, I ran into Anna The Goth and Stef. They asked what I was doing there, and when I declared my intentions, Anna said, "Oh, you can copy that off me, if you like." So she gave it to me today, and my earworm can happily wriggle out and let the actual music in. This is just as well, because my lecture notes from the last few days are completely illegible, thanks to being covered in scrawlings of "My girlfriend's girlfriend! She looks like you!"
3. I played with latex today! Ok, by that I mean LaTeX, the text formatting program, which is nowhere near as much fun as actual latex, but I always like to be able to make that claim.
Thursday 24 October 2002
So I was walking from my house to Eliot College, "Dear Prudence" by Siouxsie And The Banshees ringing pleasantly in my ears, when I passed a couple deep in conversation. I overheard the bloke say the words "My ex-girlfriend's girlfriend" and bam! What happened? THAT Song got stuck in my head again. And now I can't listen to it, as it's at home, being copied. How widespread bisexuality is often amazes me, but this is the first time I've found it annoying.
Saturday 26 October 2002
Bryn broke up with me.
We're going to stay best friends, which is a relief, since the friendship part was always much more important to me than the romantic and dodgy side anyway. Nevertheless, Sleeve (he who I ran to comfort for, since Soppygit and Jo are both away for the weekend - typical!) said he was thinking of cutting his hair; I told him not to, as it clearly makes people evil.
This really isn't going to help me sleep, is it?
Fortunately an alternative exists: Anna The Goth and Sarah The Vice Goth are going to Slimelight tonight. Since I'm going to Black Celebration - an eight hour long concert - tomorrow and I need to catch up on sleep and of course, I wanted to enyoj an extra night with Bryn - a rare commodity of late - I said I'd give it a miss. But now, I will join them.
[Though shocking - as he promised he'd never dump me - this didn't come from out of nowhere. The core of it being that he's having trouble finding a job and living with his parents and he doesn't get to see me often enough for his liking, due to the distance, and rather than getting more stressed by making huge repairs his relationship with stressed third-year-workaholic-president-Zed - repairs essential due to me, quite reasonably, feeling the need to make some reasonable demands to level the power balance - thus upping the risk of us falling out entirely, he ended it, open to the possibility of us getting back together when he was in a better situation, but that probably won't be for quite some time. It took a little while to for me to get over him (though it was a lot faster than I initially expected), but I don't care to go into any further detail about it.]
Wednesday 30 October 2002
On Saturday evening, after writing Many Angstful Now-Deleted Livejournal Entries (MANDLE), I headed for the cash machine to get an extra £10 out, to cover the costs of Zed's Weekend O Total Hedonism. (That is to say, Zed's Weekend Of Zed's Version Of Total Hedonism, which does not include drugs, because they scare her, alcohol, because it makes her depressed, or sex, because she's not interested - not with people she's not likely to see again very often - which is just as well as said people are not interested in providing her with any.)
Unfortunately, I hit the wrong button and got £50 instead. Not a good start to the weekend, since I'm not totally convinced as to how much I'm got left in that account, and too scared to find out.
I got changed (I *had* to wear my signed Sheep On Drugs tie - among other things, of course), went to the station, got on the train and got phoned by my Mummy. The train got diverted and I started to get depressed again (not because of the diversion, mind), so I called Bryn, only to go through a tunnel at an unresolved point, thus losing the connection, and emerge to a text message saying, "Please don't call me back tonight."
Nevertheless, I managed to get to Nodnol eventually. Victoria station was full of disturbingly gothic people. I was thinking, "Cool!" then realised it was just a lot of standard extreme people celebrating Hallowe'en. Oh well, at least, no one could say to me, "Hallowe'en's x months away."
And I communicated with Sarah The Vice Goth and Anna The Goth with minimal angst, and arranged to meet them in a pub called the Ben Crouch. Except Sarah's phone has word-recognition, so she kept calling it the Ben Crotch in her text messages. But fearful as I was to venture into the crotch of Ben, it wasn't too bad. Well, the music was mostly surckin', but as I said, "I need cheesy upbeat music." "Why are you going to Slimelight, then?" Anna asked, but dancy goth music doesn't depress me - it's only stuff like "Something I Can Never Have", the later parts of "Ultra" by Depeche Mode and later Cure albums that get me down.
Also, Sarah and Anna were imbibing zillions of drinks that came in test tubes, which Sarah was stashing in her bag. Then I suggested she stuck them in her (18-inch-and-fully-done-up) corset (her waist is 22" anyway, but still!) so she did. Darren arrived, and got very scared by the amount of alcohol Sarah and Anna had consumed, because they had twenty test tubes, and he reckoned there was a shot and a half in each . . .
He left, and me and Sarah and Anna went to Slimelight. They were doing a three-floor special: traditional goth on the ground floor, darkwave and EBM on the middle, industrial at the top. At first I was like, "Gah! I'm going to miss all my favourite songs this way!" but I ended up spending most of the night on the middle floor, and hearing most of my favourite bands. I missed The Cure, The Sisters, New Model Army, Siouxsie, etc, but as well as EBM, the middle floor played a bunch of cheesy 80s - Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, Aha, OMD, New Order and stuff - in quick succession, as well as my beloved guitar-based industrial. I managed to stay awake for the entire the night (mostly thanks to some guy whose identity I think I should know poking me awake and giving me a lollipop), though I sat with my head in my hands for about an hour and a half.
Events:
1) Some guy came up to speak to Anna and Sarah. When he left, Anna told me, "He's in Apoptygma Berzerk!" Then, later, he kissed them both on the cheek. They were star struck. I missed out as I was half asleep (<- deliberate Apop reference), but I did get half a hug off him later.
Gah! I should have known, because I went to Slimelight for the first time exactly two years earlier, and the clocks went back then. But although the significance of the date had occurred to me (and made me rather miserable, because it was *such* a good weekend two years ago - Bryn and I went on our first date outside the building I lived in to see "This Is Spinal Tap", which we'd never seen before, but we liked it enough to see twice more that the cinema; I bought loads of goff clothing; I went to Slimelight (and decided it was good but too heavygoing for the likes of me and I wouldn't return - ha!); and I met Bryn's family for the first time and really liked them. Now look at the state I was in!) the daylight savings hadn't.
Anyway, we went back to Darren's flat, rather distressed by the amount of wind billowing in our trench coats, but not particularly disturbed by it.
Darren's flat is HUGE! Especially bearing in mind it's in a rather nice area of zone 3 of Nodnol. (Zone 1 is the centre; zone 6 is the outskirts; presumably, living costs get higher towards the centre, but they're high throughout the city.) He's only a couple of years older than me, and hasn't had his job - in customs - for very long, but he's done v. well for himself.
Anyway, I managed to sleep for less than two hours. The fact that I fell asleep while sitting upright, only to wake up and find Sarah had nicked the rest of the sofa didn't help. Nor did the sound of milk bottles smashing outside. Darren reports that he saw his neighbour's fence go flying, and I found I had a voicemail message from Soppygit, saying, "Sorry to hear about you and Bryn, and don't go out tonight - it's dangerously windy."
I talked to Anna and Darren for a bit, then while I was cleaning my icky teeth with Darren's spare toothbrush (I ph34r the maturity) they disappeared into Darren's room. Guh. Indeed, they got back together. I'm happy for them, but timing, people, please. Especially since, when I mentioned it to Anna, she told me Darren broke up with her for exactly the same reason Bryn broke up with me, and so she was like, "You'll get him back" while I seriously doubt it'll happen anytime soon.
Anyway, we set off for Black Celebration, and luckily the wind had dropped. Bryn and I were on the guestlist, but since he decided not to go before he decided to break up with me ("I have a job interview on Thursday! It'll beep up my sleeping patterns!") since Anna wanted to go, I suggested she posed as Bryn. And she got away with it - they didn't ID us. Gah. Going out with someone with a girl's name really did have its uses.
I'm going to review the gig for Kaleidoscope Magazine, so if you want to read it you'll have to buy it. (Tis available from musicnonstop.co.uk.) Bwahaha!
Things that aren't going to be included though:
-- It was soooooo goooooood!!!!! The only disappointing band was Sheep On Drugs, but since I [hart] Sheep On Drugs they were still quite good. All the rest were fantastic.
Afterwards, back to Darren's flat. Sarah and I both had ten o'clock lectures the next day, and figured we'd need to get up at 6.15. I slept poorly, dreaming about Sheep On Drugs, and was quite relieved to hear the alarm go off. Sarah, however, was not, and decided she wasn't going to her lectures after all. So I set off into the confusion of Leytonbridge with just my geographical dyslexia for company. But thanks to daylight savings, it was light, and there were enough people about so I could ask someone for directions when I felt a bit lost - I hadn't gone too far wrong, it turned out.
I got back to Victoria station sooner than I'd anticipated, at 7.35, and there was a train due to leave at 7.37. I leapt on it . . .
. . . and it didn't go anywhere. For about half an hour. Then, suddenly, everyone was getting off it, and boarding another train. Apparently, it only went as far as Ashford, which is a bit out of the way from Canterbury, but o well, it wouldn't take that much longer, and I could hopefully get a train to Canterbury from there without too much difficulty.
Except, thanks to the ridiculous winds of the previous day, the line was damaged. So the journey was ultra slow and stoppy as it was . . . only for the train to get stuck behind a broken-down Eurostar. I eventually got to Ashford, spent ages sitting on a stationary train meant to go to Canterbury, and arrived at 10.50.
My journey, which should have taken an hour and a half took more than three. My 10 o'clock lecture was a lost cause, I was ten minutes late for my 11 o'clock computing session, and I was so hungry and dead by that point that I left after about ten minutes, which I just spent talking to the autistic boy in my class's mother. And then I didn't have any lectures until 4, rendering the early start to the day completely pointless.
The Beercart was all right; owing to the recent turn of events, it meant I got to talk to people in more depth and at more length than usual, which was nice. Unfortunately, half way through the night, my throat got really sore, and my ability to talk at all completely died. I met a girl called Claire afterwards, who was quite funchie, and walked home with Sleeve, Klair, Charlie, Richard, Lawrence, and someone else - can't remember who, mind. Half way home, most of the group decided they wanted to go to a playground. This would have suited me, but my back was killing me (standing up for too long has this effect), so Sleeve, who's just turned twenty two and couldn't be bothered either, sat and talked with me, while the rest of the group vanished. About half an hour later, they still hadn't shown any signs of wanting to leave, so we went home.
Yesterday I taught freshers and did various bumph and went to LGBT.
Beep! Over twenty hours spent in pulling situations surrounded by people who like me, looking none too shabby for once, and feeling really chatty and strangely upbeat, and nobody wants meeeee! Of course, the fact that the LGBT meeting was a talk about homophobia against gay men didn't really help my odds there, but still! I didn't make a move on anyone either, because (apart from the fact that I'm a coward) I wasn't particularly interested in anyone I saw, but open to offers I was. I know I went for nearly eighteen years without anyone being remotely interested in me, but that appeared to have changed since I'd arrived at university. Perhaps I have "on the rebound" written on my forehead in ink visible to everyone but me.
Oh well. Care, I do not. Talking like Yoda stop now, I shall.
Thursday 31 October 2002
Little things make me happy. I had a dream last night, where Bryn kept telling me he had £35, which he was going to use on a night out, but he wouldn't tell me where he was going, which was upsetting because I don't like the idea of him suddenly becoming secretive. (More random events of it were me selling Jez a ticket to The Pit and my uncle telling me that Jay owned half of Whitehaven.) I woke up early and tired, and had a hard time getting out of bed.
But then I had some toast and listened to White Zombie and Type O Negative and read a bit of "AD Police" and was blissfully, blissfully happy. Even the subsequent lecture wasn't too bad.
Nevertheless, I clearly subscribe too enthusiastically to the theory of retail therapy, to the point where I'll indulge in it whether I need it or not.
After all, I don't believe in spending a lot of money on Hallowe'en costumes, since they're for one night only. Two years ago, I bought some fake blood capsules and wore my school leavers' dinner dress inside out. Last year, I spent £15 on the Sister Jezebel Of The Lost Seamen costume, but that was about my limit.
But today I went into Canterbury to get a new accessory the Sister Jezebel outfit and a battery for our smoke alarm. (Because Soppygit said it's dying, and the fire brigade have decided to go on strike next week. That would be the week when bonfire night happens. Yay, helpful.) Unfortunately, having picked up said accessory in 3rd Eye, the shop assistant insisted on staying on the phone for ages. And while I was waiting to be served, I wandered round and . . . um, picked up stuff to make an entirely new upgraded version of the costume. Which, altogether, came to £61.29. Oops.
It is extremely cool and I can't wait to wear it. And I will be able to be able to wear most of it in on subsequent occasions in everyday life (or at least everynight life). And I got a free NIN badge and Iron Maiden postcards out of the deal. But still. Eep.
Later
I am currently wearing:
1) A leather trenchcoat.
The other glove is on my lap (I can only type in one), as is a whip.
Happy Hallowe'en! Say your prayers! Now, to ze pub.
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