who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury...

I love it here. It's seven thirty and I'm yet to go to bed. I opted instead for staying up all night chatting to flatmates in the kitchen, after having watched Black Books and drunk wine. I have a seminar-type-thing at ten, so I'll probably flop into bed at some point after that. The perfect time, then to put on my beautiful new headphones, open up the Guardian website and Tumblr and Facebook and waste some time on the internet.

The film 'Howl' comes out tomorrow. I probably won't see it any time soon, but I'm sure I'll get around to it eventually. I ordered the slim little book a couple of years ago on a whim. I didn't know anything about it, but when it arrived, I remember feeling a little disappointed. It was really quite small (although it did have quite a nice cover). I opened it up and started reading. I finished, made myself a cup of tea, then read it again. I read it once more for good measure, then decided I probably liked it quite a lot. The thing is, it's a very overwhelming work which strives to convey anything and everything all at once in a rush of catharsis, so it's hard to take it all in. I've read it many, many times, and I still have no idea what it means. I know that it's wonderful, and I know that I love it, but I couldn't tell you what on earth it's about, nor why I like it so much. I think it's the frailty that comes through even though it is an assault. I think it's because I become too interested in people's lives and this man had a particularly interesting one. I think it's because it's one of the most brilliant things ever written.

Everything is a chore this week. I can't work and I can't cook and I can't sleep. I can't wait for the weekend when things will be good. I might also stop being a whingey cow, because who can be moody on a Friday night? Particularly when this Friday night holds the promise of dressing up like an old lady and drinking gin. Actually, this could be most Friday nights. Sigh...

the people's king.

It's only ruddy Tuesday, and to celebrate, I thought I'd write one of these. I hope that you are well and not too disheartened by the horrid weather and horrid-er goings on in the world.

There is lots of lovely music around at the moment, and exciting people are releasing exciting things! Obviously I have to talk about Radiohead. King of Limbs sort of came from nowhere, and though I am still holding out for its physical release (I am a CD junkie), I have of course had a few listens online. I have always preferred trippy, pretty Radiohead to the more electronicy stuff, but this is good. Good but not astounding. It has promises of brilliance, but doesn't quite follow through. I'm hoping it's a grower, but I'm fairly sure it's not going to be a classic in my mind.

Next up, the wonderful Conor (because what would this blog be without him!?) who has come up trumps with a rather spectacular album The People's Key. I am obviously biased because Bright Eyes are my favourite thing since they made those slippers that you can microwave, but this album is really rather good. If you like music for its feel-good factor, you should probably listen to Beach House or Clarensau instead, because this album isn't exactly uplifting. But then uplifting Bright Eyes wouldn't be Bright Eyes at all, would it? It's almost a bit poppy, very easy to listen to, funny, sweet, sad and (most importantly) better than all Oberst's solo work put together. So yes, I am a fan.

It's not new anymore, but The Suburbs by the magnificent Arcade fire is, in short, phenomenal. I still like Funeral best, but this is now their third brilliant album, so I think they are now officially a brilliant band. I'm pretty sure that's how it works...

What would we do without music? Life would be so grey.

you can stand under my umbrella ♥

Right, so it's Valentine's day. I bet you're all thinking that I'm about to go off on some bitter tirade about this stomach-churning, pernicious money maker, but that would be a little bit too obvious, wouldn't it? Besides, this year I'm not feeling all that resentful. I don't actually mind this day that much, though I'm sure this comes as a surprise. I do not think, however, that February 14th should be a day for smug couples, but a day for declaring our secret love (in an anonymous, harmless kind of way) through the medium of shitty cards like we did in first school.

So in celebration rather than derision of this weird concept, I give you my top ten love songs of all time.

1. The Kinks - Lola - A song about falling for someone who is wrong for you (in this case a transvestite with a preference for young boys who have "never kissed a woman before". Genius.).
2. Jeff Buckley - Lover, you should have come over - A song about painful youth and the uncertainty and intensity of adolescent love. Probably. It's well good, anyway...
3. Adele - Someone like you - Because I love it more than most things in the world. It's about habouring feelings for a man who no longer feels the same (we've all been there). Don't listen to the album version, because it is a pile of poo. Opt instead for the Jools Holland live version and you will be weeping into your overpriced roses in no time. 
4. Bon Iver - Skinny Love - Harrowing and heart-wrenching (just like every good love song should be).
5. Aqualung - Strange and beautiful - Creepy. In a sweet way...
6. Maccabees - Love you better - "I will love you better". A desperate plea from a spurned lover - excellent stuff.
7. Bloc Party - Flux - "We were hoping for some romance, all we found was more despair". It's probably the most upbeat song in my CD collection because of its 'fuck it' sort of attitude. It never fails to make me smile. And dance. But mostly smile.
8. Rhianna - Umbrella - Who needs intricate, poetic lyrics when it can all be summarised in the selfless act of letting someone stand under your umbrella (ella, ella, eh, eh...)
9. Coldplay - Shiver - Before he met Gwyneth and got all smug. I bet they are having a sickening Valentine's day.
10. Joy Division - Love will tear us apart - mmhmm.   

So happy Valentine's day, everybody! I will be spending my evening having a roast dinner with my mother and my sister, both of whom will be seething because they cannot be with their boyfriends tonight. Teehee... 

remus and liz and mini with one 'n'...

I haven't as such been out today, so I thought I'd compensate by writing a brilliantly political post about the situation in Egypt, perhaps, or the ongoing drought in China, or even Berlusconi's latest little pickle. But THEN I found out that Elizabeth Taylor has been rushed to hospital with congestive heart failure, so I thought I'd write about that instead. I am no doctor, but I know that heart failure is never exactly good. I have always had a strange fascination with Liz. She was my iPod's namesake until I washed her (my new iPod is named Remus Lupin). So Liz, please don't die. I would miss you and your scary, scary face.

Over the past couple of days, I have been watching Skins. I always managed to resist before, but I cracked. Don't judge me, I'm home and I'm bored. My verdict? It's... okay. I do like it, and it's not too in-your-face or too tear-filled. Plus it's filled with pretty people who have lives much more interesting and shallow than my own. So while there are many things I prefer floating around on the box at the moment, this is a good way to pass some time while sipping tea at home alone on a Friday night. Just kidding. The dog was here. I've made my choice in life...

Okay, so I usually link to a nice little song at the bottom of a post, but today I give you the video that completely transformed my mood earlier. Life can be complicated, but thank God we always have videos of animals doing funny things to cheer us up...

all about the fire in your life on the evening news...

There is blossom on some of the trees, therefore, it is Spring. As a result, I bought a flowery dress today. I will probably not be able to wear it for some months, so it will sit in my wardrobe [floor] and I will forget I ever bought it. How exciting though!

I am writing this on the floor of the lounge in the house my mother owns in Wolverley. I spent the day getting my hair cut and shopping in Birmingham - what a girl! Haircuts are always so blooming awkward. Maybe this is just me because I'm a bit of a socially inept being, but I never know how to act. First, there is the haggling over the amount of hair for the chop. I wanted lots and lots cut off because I'm spontaneous like that, but the silly man talked me out of it in his passive-aggressively persuasive, pretty way, so I only had quite a lot chopped off. It looks irritatingly good - I hate that he was right. Next comes the awkward hair washing 'can he see up my nose?', 'should I keep my eyes open?' 'do we really have to talk about the X-factor?' phase of the game. Then you're made to feel like a terrible person for buying shampoo from Tesco rather than paying twenty quid for a bottle of organic-nourishing-split-end-busting super hair redeemer. You are offered a cup of tea, but there never seems to be a convenient moment to lean forward and pick it up, so it sits and goes cold and separatey. Hairdressers always seem to think you want to discuss your personal life with them. And then they tell you about theirs! And then suddenly you're entangled in a bitter tale of heartbreak and despair, and all you can bring yourself to say is 'Erm, I'm sure she'll come round eventually'. It's a minefield. Honestly.

I have something exciting to tell you. I will be spending the next academic year in Rome. The very thought of this is enough to fill me with dread and fear and excitement and dread. I completely backtracked on my 'small town' plan, because - well why the hell not? Rome happened to be under subscribed, and I couldn't resist. It will very possibly destroy me, but there is a teeny tiny chance that I will come back in July skinny, tanned, fluent and sickeningly stylish. I can dream...

I plan to spend the next few days drinking tea and reading beautiful prose by Jon Mcgregor. The house will be empty and my tummy will be full. It's going to be immense. It's been a bit of a shitty week lacking in sleep and abundant in alcohol. I am feeling the effects.

Yesterday, I had a slightly spiritual musical experience. But not really. But sort of. I borrowed Cait's iPod and rediscovered Paul Simon's 'Graceland'. I realise I'm completely ridding myself of any dignity I had left by writing about this, but honesty is key. The thing is, it was always one of our 'car tapes' when we were little, and it turns out that I still know every word. 'Crazy Love' is a genuinely brilliant song. Honestly.

dearest.

Let's stop sending each other messages on Facebook. Write a letter. Stamps don't cost much, and handwritten post is always nice to receive. It's nice to find a letter waiting when you get home, recognising the familiar scrawl on the envelope and reading the meandering thoughts of a friend set down on paper. I've already cajoled one unsuspecting person into corresponding with me in this way, but send me something! Send something, and I will always reply (which cannot be said for any other form of communication). A letter, unlike an email, can never be deleted.

I am saddened by the anti-Islamic protest march happening today. The English Defence League demonstrated today under the thinly veiled premise of targeting fundamentalism, but no good can possibly come of these tensions, which are surely more likely to encourage extremism than combat it. I'm struggling to write this paragraph from an objective viewpoint, without just ranting and being cross. I'm not sure it's even possible. I just can't fathom this country sometimes, and I hope that this shameful hatred ceases rather than gaining momentum. The world is a scary place.

My wonderful friend Eilish is soon to be married. I feel like if every betrothed couple was like Eilish and Bob, I would have no reservations whatsoever about the institution of marriage, and I know they will be very happy. She is the macaroni to his cheese.

I have an exam on Monday, and I have to learn seven hundred and twenty three prepositions... probably. The sad fact of the matter though, is that I simply cannot be arsed. Somebody motivate me. That would be lovely.

cause a scene.

I overslept and missed my Italian verb quiz today because I stayed up too late... learning verbs. What a noob. Therefore, to cheer myself up I decided to write a blog post.

This week promises to be full of stress and general melodramatic woe as deadline(s) loom and exam(s) approach. This time next week however, I will be full of glee and general merriment because I will have got my horrid exam out of the way and written my horrid essay (probably) and it will very nearly almost be reading week! It couldn't come at a more opportune moment. I really truly need the break, and will spend the week thinking about starting reading and watching Sex and the City. At least I'm a realist...

I have been listening to Salteens a lot lately. My normal approach here would be to embed a video, but Youtube doesn't seem to have heard of them , so I'll give you the Spotify link. And if you don't have spotify, there's really not much more I can do to help you. Your life will probably be okay without them, I just think they're quite good.

I can't be certain, but I think my wonderful friend Jess is coming to stay tonight. Since she moved to Bristol in August, I've seen her a grand total of three times. I miss the days when we spent all of our time in the little languages staffroom at school. She would sit and work and I would fall asleep under the table, only waking up when I smelled one of her delicious meals being reheated in the microwave. She was always so enviably good at life.

Gosh this is old.

These protests in Egypt make our little student backlash look somewhat measley and half-hearted. I will not go on to write a massive piece of argumentative prose, because there are many people who understand the situation much better than I do (and many people who are more adept at writing argumentative prose). Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean is that I'm glad it has received the coverage it deserved, I am saddened by the loss of human life, I am impressed at the resilience of these freedom fighters. Scary though, isn't it?

I leave you with this extract from a beautiful piece of journalism in Saturday's Guardian

"In the narrow side streets protesters regrouped, wellwishers on their balconies threw down water for those with streaming eyes from the tear gas. “Wake up Egypt, your silence is killing us,” came the yells from below."