A rambling post about Amanda Palmer, Coke, life and REVENGE
I am about to break three personal blog rules today (try to spot them!):
- Don’t apologise for, or mention the lack of updates. I detest blogs that start off “I’m sorry I haven’t posted for a while!”. Stop this.
- Don’t talk about physical insecurities. Though this is a life rule, not a blog rule as such. No one has really noticed your jiggly thighs – it’s okay. Besides, James May has a slightly paunchy belly and it is adorable. Flaws are beautiful.
- Your blog is not a personal journal. I don’t need another one. Check out that username I actually spent money to get!
And this is not a rule, but I’m doing it anyway: there are going to be lots of them today. Someone asked for a new post, so you really brought this on yourself! This is the REVENGE part. Now for the rest.
I saw Amanda Palmer live.
HIGHLIGHT OF MY ENTIRE LIFE.
First song was Sex Changes, which isn’t even sad, but I was wringing my hands trying not to cry. I DON’T KNOW WHY. And I did cry through the second song, because I remember stealthily trying to wipe my eyes without the guy I’d just met noticing, and thinking, “IT’S JUST… SO HOT IN HERE THAT MY EYES ARE SWEATING…. THAT’S IT.“
Luckily I didn’t spend the next few hours wrestling with myself like that, and was able to join in on the cheering and happiness. That is, until she came out for an encore and played Astronaut, and while other people were singing along to the piano, I was more like “DON’T CRY DON’T CRY DON’T CRY“. I hate those weird hysterical fans, and it turns out I’m one of them! D: I’M STILL COOL OKAY. ALWAYS AND FOREVER.
I’ve stopped drinking Coke.
My dependence on this stuff is embarrassing. Over the summer, I’d occasionally have as many as six cans in a day. I REGRET NOTHING. Then a few weeks ago I saw that a 600mL bottle would lost ~$3. $21 a week? Bah! So I just stopped buying it.
Beautiful things have since happened! I now drink two litres of water a day. My skin looks nicer. My perpetually enormous belly is somewhat flatter. It’s also easier to fall asleep! There are people who do this with no effort, leaving you to lie awake hating their every contented snore. I am now joining those people, and quite smugly, too. I never knew Coke had that effect on me! I AM A SLEEPING GOD.
…Having said that, in the first couple of weeks, falling asleep was so easy that I struggled to stay awake past 5pm, and I’d only be able to groggily sit at my computer refreshing my dashboard on Tumblr. We are past this stage of withdrawal now. Phew.
I do feel like I just lost a crucial part of my identity, but we can just replace this with something else. Like creme eggs.
Life, summarised:
- I love Petronius. We’ve been translating his Satyricon in Latin. In the Renaissance monks would write pervy stories and pretend they were Petronius’s lost stories, so they’d share them around with each other. Indeed! The most recent thing we translated involved few drunks reminiscing about a recently dead guy’s various perversions, and how back in the day he’d even have his way with the dog. Aaaww.
- I like putting basil pesto and tomato relish on bagels.
- I made chocolate chip cookies which tasted like popcorn.. they also didn’t cook properly and were not biscuits, so much as … goop.
- The person in the room above me watches Avatar. I want to send them an anonymous love note and/or be their best friend.
- Personally, all I’ve been watching are episodes of Top Gear and Gossip Girl. James May is so preciously awkward in his first ever episode. And then there’s this quote:
Perhaps this is due to his habit of rambling, of endeavouring earnestly to explain scientific and technological tidbits to you when you didn’t request it of him. Pleasingly, he never seems to mind when it becomes clear to the both of you that you stopped listening several minutes earlier.
“Oh dear, I’m going on a bit, aren’t I?” he will say several times over the next hour. “Don’t be afraid to stop me if I do so again, will you?”
Excited babbling about nerdy things I don’t care about is the cutest thing ever. Why aren’t we married??
- I ran into a drunk guy the day after St Patrick’s Day, at midday. OH, DUNEDIN. He came at me with his arms outstretched, and I couldn’t move anywhere short of burying myself into a prickly hedge. He kissed me a couple of times (!?), mumbling into my hair something that sounded like, “awwwwwamdfsml”, and as his sober friend dragged him away he shouted, I LOVE YOU, YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL.
I wasn’t too worried, really. But now the last person to kiss me was a weird drunken creep, so if anyone wants to change this they would be most welcome.
That is all! Congratulations if you made it this far! ♥