don't let the sun see you cry

no one remembers you 

"when you are
feeling low

I will be there
to feel you up"

- A Softer World: 373

IS THAT NOT THE FUNNIEST THING YOU HAVE EVER READ.

A Softer World is this webcomic by Emily Horne and Joey Comeau. It is quite possibly one of the best things on the internet. This week, at least.

(Huiran, this is the comic I recced you but forgot the title of!)

Since we've started this post with an awesome thing let's fill it with awesome things. I had a sandwich and a cherry tomato today. Cherry tomatoes make me a cheery tomato.

And also,

ANI DIFRANCO LIVE IN SINGAPORE

Greenhorn Productions presents ANI DIFRANCO live for the very first time in Singapore on 10 Feb 2009 at the Esplanade Theatre.

DATE
10 Feb 2009
Tue, 8:00PM

DURATION
Approx 1 Hr 30 Mins

VENUE
Esplanade Theatre

TICKET PRICE (Exclude Booking Fee)
Standard - S$148, S$118, S$88, S$68

Please add to above price $3 Booking Fee per ticket for tickets above $20 and $1 Booking Fee per ticket for tickets $20 and below. Charges include GST where applicable.

Using Vox as a noticeboard: WHO'S IN? I'm in. I'm so in. I don't care it's a Tuesday night Ani is not something to be missed. Here. This will convince you. It will be the best ten minutes of your life. Listen closely.

2008 has become a number. I heard the sound when the fireworks went. I couldn't see the sparks so I shut my eyes and pressed them and pretended.

I think I burnt my tongue but I don't know when. It tastes tangy and a little bit painful.

Oh no. I haven't done a lick of work.

It hurts when I shake my head. Slosh goes the brain. Smells like shampoo. Good thing Joy didn't drop me all the way ey thanks. Oh and Lorraine for buying the coke. And getting the bag. I didn't use it after all. Guess there wasn't anything to throw up.

The lady told me not to drink in the store. I would have died laughing if my head didn't hurt so much.

Lots of stuff has happened lately. Wuhbuhd, band camp, perc stuff. Ah, stuff. Stuffing. I'm kind of like stuffing. When people see me poking out their teddy bears they go eeeee and throw them away. Uh. I take that back I'm kind of not like stuffing. I just do the poking and they go eeeee.

The other day Sheryl told me about not drinking stuff left out for too long since you don't know what's settled on it which made me think of clear glasses of green or amber or purple liquid with inch thick layers of dust on top. I would like to see that. And maybe photograph it. And perhaps see what would happen if I tried to vacuum it.

I think I'll go to bed.

good morning january

goodby

goodby

There are so many things to write about, people to love, events to enthuse over. I'm lazy so I guess brief mentions will have to do.

First up: SAY IT AIN'T SO, 213! I realize this may be inappropriate as quite a number weren’t at the class chalet, but the line taken on its own still works, doesn’t it? Slimology was a blast, I LOVE THEATRE. It was one of the few times I actually had to take responsibility for the class; hope I didn't screw it up too bad. Thanks for the effort, guys.

Emceeing with Celine, hooray partner! Did you know that MC actually stands for Master of Ceremonies? We are happy campy babes with important-sounding titles.

Following, RE:ACT! Group 3 love!; also, the LASALLE Creative Cubers! Hooray for the fabulousness that is our corny pick up lines; I shall not demonstrate.

In other news, I'm victoriaoil on LJ now, 'cause Shao reminded me it existed.

I AM HAPPY!

Today I was cheerful worried bored sad amused annoyed hysterical sad annoyed anguished angry sad wistful disappointed sad, but right now I am a happy girl.

Real life shit later. Right now, I have my Sleepwalk and Erlie Gray + honey and I am going to read. Then I shall go to sleep and I better have a bloody good dream tonight.

FAIL!

Let's fail! Let's eat out of a pail! Let's kick a chick and lick a brick and smash the Holy Grail! Jesus will be angry, and surely your mom too! But Mother Mary Forgives All so just do what you do!

[Edit: Okay, I just came back here for a moment and misread brick. So in case you did too: It's Not What You're Thinking.]

--

You're not allowed to do that! And you're not allowed to do that either! In fact, you may as well just slice your hands right off from the sheer lack of things you're allowed to do - wait, you're no-

--

Mr Lee: "So I probably shouldn't be saying that all your hard work, everything you've done this past year is going to culminate in the next straight week of tests, right? Everything you've been working for... !"

Us: "Thanks."

--

Last.Fm is great for finding new artistes! I have no idea how this evaded my attention until now. Sondre Lerche, Kate Nash, Kimya Dawson, Ani DiFranco! As if I haven't got enough music on my wishlist.

my war paint is sharpie ink and I'll show you how much my shit stinks
and ask you what you think because your thoughts and words are powerful
they think we're disposable, well both my thumbs opposable
are spelled out on a double word and triple letter score

we won't stop until somebody calls the cops and even then
we'll start again and just pretend that
nothing ever happened

I feel sick.

A new residence, a new digit, a new naming system. A bunch of excerpts cut out and glued together hastily, torn from long, lengthy rants written on real paper with real ink. I do like this control.

--

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

/Of pain there was much. I think I might have passed out for a bit – I remember everything pulsating and shimmering, sort of like light reflected by the pool onto the underside of a beach umbrella. I remember Joy and Valentia and Lorraine visiting, which made me feel betterbutworse ‘cause the people I needed there weren’t./ I remember reading my blog and thinking “Huh. That is pre-crash writies."

--

On the way to USP today almost passed out at the train station how very very mortal of me. I don’t like the limitations my body likes to set.

Ibuprofen Ibuprofen oh how I love you
Let us have our honeymoon in glorious Timbuktu
We’ll make cocktails, oh, drug cocktails, and name one Mary Lou
Least till Sir Vicodin makes his way back from the loo

--

Ernest is all grown up now! He was bisque’d last week, kind of like bar mitzvahs but hotter. He has acquired a rather curvaceous figure. Perhaps he should be Ernestine. Lame, but Erin hasn’t got the correct sound.

Our glazes are inadequate, however. We shall mix and substitute and piece something nice together. I hope. Oxides! Oxides! Bestow your gifts upon this lowly vessel!

--

MARGHERITA CAFFI

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Margherita Caffi (1650-1710) was an Italian painter of still lifes of flowers and fruit. She was born in Cremona and died in Milan.

References

I never want a Wikipedia page about me to be like that. Charlotte Hong, here and there to when and then, painted Still Lifes, With Fruit. Born, died, References.

--

Daydreaming in Biology the other day and realised the world is so full of amazing things. I want to know all of them. Even quantum mechanics because did you know, if you could fly in a spaceship at the speed of light you would return to Earth long after your children were dead? Your children’s generation, at least. 'Cause speed of light's the ultimate fastest speed there is, like 0 Kelvin, and it's complicated. It’d be one-way time travel, technically speaking. I don't understand it but I want to understand it. And don't even get me started on Schrödinger's Cat.

I think why stuff like this appeals to me so much, even though it's like particle physics or quantum mechanics or whatever that I can't be bothered to study, the reason is that people/Nature comes up with some really whacked out stuff. Time travel! Dead-and-alive cat! Happy-face spider! Sometimes I feel life is worth reading about in books more than living, but only fleetingly.

--

I can’t live here. I can’t escape. Just the other day I tried to spontaneously escape and there’s only one door and it’s watched all the time. I cannot stay. The room is too small and it feels like the walls are inching in. Not even in the funny way, in Black Books, where the landlord made a new apartment of stolen space. I cannot. It’s hot and it’s cold and it’s too too small I can’t move I can’t spin in circles singing rock songs anymore. I can’t lie on the floor press cool marble to my face; consider  tessellations. The walls don’t go all the way up in my head and out.

It doesn’t make sense I always thought people made the home but by God I lived there half my life. I spent so much of that alone here, staring at the walls, thinking. I got attached.

Of course I hate the tenants. Bad fashion sense. Vulgar. One of them is fat. Annoying voice. Paying my dad to rip my roots out. I’d find any excuse. Wouldn’t you?

--

Who are you? Who do I share this strange non-space with? Tell me.

[She said: Do fancy “LEAVE A TAG.” It was done.]

--

“Did the stuff on my pot fall off too? The roses?”

“You mean there was stuff on your pot?!”

…

“The handle fell off. I stuck it back. Like that.”

“…it’s the other way.”

“Huh! No wonder I was thinking this pot how come so funny!”

--

Today in school it rained and I was very happy.

--

What are you doing you should have just left it alone and I don’t know done what but anything anything anything is better than this cold cold nothing. The worst thing to hear is nothing at all. You shouldn’t have said anything you should have just not done anything she lied you didn’t oh no but then if you did she’d have to go through this too.

Better me than her.

--

I like watching people paint. I like watching people who are good at it, and also people who are atrociously bad at it; by that I mean three year old fingerpaints and a lot of mess. I like the careful controlled preciseness of watercolour and I like the unrestrained intimate splatter of Jello. I like knowing what colour can do.

I liked today’s AEP lesson.

I didn’t like having the work I was cursing at for half an hour getting stepped on, though. I know it was an accident but I guess I just wish it hadn’t happened.

--

Overrun! Overrun with hormone-driven teenagers reading lousy smut! Reading lousy gay smut! Reading lousy gay smut about REAL PEOPLE GASP! Real people is a whole other can of worms. Whenever it came up in fic(and it'd have to be really good fic) before, the done thing was to just press page down three or four times, but now people are actually reading it and we're way too young. Way! Too! Young! The "homophobic"(quotation marks because at that age you just ate whatever adults told you) people who declared that slash was a sin are now like, "Gay guys are so hot."

I don't know what to think.

--

I have my resolutions and my promises and I will keep them like I keep breaking them. With the same sameness of it. Keep keeping.

HEEEEY JUDE
DON’T MAKE IT BAD
TAKE A SAD SONG AND MAKE IT BETTER

Just found out about band stuff happening tomorrow. Must wake at 5 to get stuff from shop 'cause home has nothing in it anymore. Don't want to move but that's selfish. I guess the biggest thing I've learnt about myself this year is that I'm really not as open to change as I thought I was.

I don't like feeling teenagery. I know s'just a tiny little thing she said but it was so dismissive. I'm being irrational but how to stop all the shit from coming? I am a self-centred little girl.

Bye.

In one of the final posts from home territory, we have Adventures in Dream Theatre Time with Charlotte! A total of 16 dreams over the past 3 nights, with a minimum of 4 dreams per beddy-bye! In three of them, a play was written and performed to great success! In four, a terrible chase was had! In six, poetry was written and read and caterwauled by the scad and the scoop and the scrunge! (Don't try looking those words up in your Merriam-Webster.)

My head is DYING.

10 things I have learned recently.
1 Never play scary point and click games before bed. Or at any other time, really.
2 Never type with freshly painted nails.
3 Never search for "starving genocide babies".
4 Never play with crutches standing when you fall over without them.
5 Never leave boiling pasta alone.
6 Never growl at little children before checking whether their parents are nearby. Even if they are STARING.
7 Never skip breakfast when you sleep two hours the previous night.
8 Never double up on pain meds, even when it doesn't feel like the first dose is working.
9 Never miss an opportunity to guilt people into doing stuff for you, particularly when you are a gimp in agony.
10 Despite 9, crutches don't work on the tube in Singapore. "STAND, CRIPPLE. STAND AS I PLAY SUPER MARIO ON MY PSP AND PRETEND NOT TO SEE YOU."

I suppose big things lately include the crash, staying in Singapore, and moving. Surreeeeeal. I am very unhappy about all three. I guess no one really wants to know.

I think Tom Felton has a surprisingly good singing voice, if a little shaky, and I like his accent. Also his style is sort of like a British Elliott Smith, I also like. No wait. No, it's because he's only using guitar + voice, and his guitar = good. He's more pop-ish.

Late at night. Lizards chasing each other. Chi-chi-chi-chi.

Dido flip, shag, or A-line? My face is a massive round monstrosity. I don't know what shape it is, actually - Sheryl and Kai'en branded it round back in primary school but it seems to have morphed since then.

I don't even know why I want to know, actually. I guess people like categorising themselves. We shall end off with an enormous quote from the incomparable Stephen Fry, performed in the pilot episode of A Bit of Fry and Laurie.

"I think it was Donald Mainstock, the great amateur squash player, who pointed out how lovely I was. Until that time I think it was safe to say that I had never been aware of my own timeless brand of loveliness. But his words smote me, for of course I am lovely in a fluffy, moist kind of way; indeed, how could I be otherwise? I walk, let's be splendid about this, in a lightly scented cloud of gorgeousness that is quite partial to being simply terrific. The secret of smooth, almost shiny loveliness, the order of which we are discussing in this simple, frank, creamy-soft way, doesn't reside in oils, unguents, balms, ointments, creams, astringents, milks, moisturisers, liniments, lubrications, embrocations or balsams. To be divine for one noble moment, it resides, and I mean this in a pink, slightly special way, in one's attitude of mind. To be gorgeous and high and true and fine and fluffy and moist and sticky and lovely, all one has to do is believe one is gorgeous and high and true and fine and fluffy and moist and sticky and lovely, and I believe it of myself, tremulously at first, then with mounting heat and passion because, stopping off to be super again, I am so often told it. And that's the secret, really."

It sort of makes sense when you peel off all the layers(and of the layers there are many, indeed) of bullshit.