Love Is The Drug

I love cover versions of songs. It's interesting to see other peoples interpretations, or style put into a song.

I've just heard Kylie's version of 'Love Is The Drug' by Roxy Music. I really liked it! As covers go, it was really good! That might be because:

1. The song is amazing to begin with.
2. Kylie is wonderful and can do no wrong. Fact.

I don't really care which to be honest.

Just for reference, here's the Roxy Music original version:

And here is Kylie's cover version which she did in the Radio1 Live Lounge with Calvin Harris:



Kylie's is from 2007 and I'm pretty sure the original was 1974.
I like both versions equally. I can't stand it when people say they don't like a song just because it's a cover. Just because it's not original material doesn't mean it can't still be good.

Not A Lot

Basically, I've recently started writing actual stuff... that's right stuff!!

Wonderful news this is, it means I'm actually being productive in some way!

It also means, however, that I won't be blogging as much. Not that anyone will care, but I thought it was worth a mention, to sort of mark the time when the amount of blogging I do slows down.

Hormones

I hate: Hormones.

Hormones are horrible things. I honestly believe (in the most non-sexist way possible) that women have it worse when it comes to hormones. Men get a constant, whereas womens change over an amount of time.

One day you'll want to kill everyone you see, the next day you’ll be crying at an Andrex advert on TV, the next you’ll be confused why you can’t fit the kettle in the fridge (true story, unfortunately).

I love: being able to use hormones as an excuse for (most) things.

Classy and Fabulous

“A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous.” -- Coco Chanel

I love Coco Chanel for millions of reasons, but the main one is that I consider her a feminist figure.

She single-handedly built the Chanel brand, invented the concept of the LBD, and never married. Oh, and she came up with this lovely quote too:

“The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.” -- Coco Chanel

To me, Coco Chanel is a perfect example of how it is possible to be simultaneously well groomed, and a feminist figure.

Eavesdropping

I love: eavesdropping on people's conversations.

I hate: when you go to the trouble of listening to other people’s conversations, and it turns out to be really boring.

German Words

Bit of a German theme over the last two days. Hmmm… it’s probably because I’ve been inspired and reading Rilke today and have begun thinking in German again. Reminds me what a brilliant language German is – and of some of the hilarious words it allows you to use.

I’ve been rather bored today, so I thought I’d compile some of my favourite German words:

10. Über - Purely because it’s fun to say. Pronounced with the ‘U’ sounding sort of like a ‘OU’.

9. Scheibenwischer – (English: Windscreen wipers) – They sound like what they are. I like that about German words.

8. Wasserstoff – (English: Hydrogen) – Literally means ‘water stuff’, I think it’s pretty cool, it’s a good example of compounded German words with literal meanings. Brilliant.

7. Arschgeweih – (English: Arse-antlers) - Sounds rude. And it is… sort of. Refers to when people have tattoos above their arse.

6. Fickakopf – (English: fuckhead) - I just think it’s funny because I’m immature.

5. Schmetterling – (English: Butterfly) – I like the way it sounds. Sccchmetttterrrrliiiing!

4. Ohrwurm – (English: Catchy song) - You know like when you can’t get a song out of your head? The literal translation could be ‘ear worm’, but it means a catchy song. I don’t know why, but I just like the thought of songs as worms. Screw the eels, it’ll be - “Ohrwurms up inside ya, findin’ an enterance where they can!”

3. Depp – (English: Idiot) – Gutted Johnny.

2. Arch – (English: Arse) – I know I already said Arschgeweih, but I just like seeing that English and German swear words are actually the same thing with a few letters added/missed out.

1. Schneeman – (English: Snowman) - It’s seasonal, and fun to say. The more you elongate the ‘ee’, the funnier the word becomes.

Sorry if I’ve got any words wrong, I’m working from memory and it’s been a while since I’ve been in the German frame of mind.

Writing this has given me several ideas for other writings. You know, the writings I said I’d do on my gap year when instead I’ve been busy being unemployed, baking cakes and poncing around in ridiculous shoes.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Happy Birthday Rainer Maria Rilke! Who would be a ridiculous 132 years old today.

Who?
René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke a.k.a Rainer Maria Rilke

When?
Was born on 4th December 1875 and died on 29th December 1926 at the age of 51. His most famous works, ‘Sonnets to Orpheus’ and ‘Duino Elegies’ were both written in 1922.

Where?
He was born in Prague, Bohemia. He then studed Literature, Art History and Philosophy in both Prague and Munich. He travelled several times to Russia in 1897. He then moved to an artists colony in Worpswede, Germany and after getting married, moved to Paris in 1902. He then left Paris and went to Duino, Italty, where he began the ‘Duino Elegies’. Rilke was called up in 1916, and was trained in Vienna. After leaving the army later that year he spent a long time in Munich. Rilke then travelled from Munich to Switzerland, where he died.

What?
Rilke is one of my favourite poets. Arguably the most influential German poets of all time. He is famous for the beauty of his writings.

The fact that the works retain their beauty through translation is arguably because Rilke was also a philosopher.

Rilke’s writings have been referenced in a lot of modern media, including J.D Salinger’s ‘Franny and Zooey’, Niffenegger’s ‘Time Traveller’s Wife’ and even the 2001 film Kissing Jessica Stein.

I love the ‘Duino Elegies’ and ‘Sonnets to Orpheus’, so here’s a few of my favourite Rilke quotes…

"All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood."

"Every angel is terrible... for beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror."

Advent

Yes yes, I went Christmas shopping yesterday. Gosh it was busy. Why go on a Saturday?! No one goes shopping on a Saturday – it’s far too busy. So, I’ve decided to try and do some Christmas shopping on the internet this year. I’ve been trawling sites such as these, but to little avail. I keep seeing things I want but not being sure if other people would like it or not. Buying Christmas presents is an awful ordeal all in all.

But, I'm going to London soon to go shopping, that should be equally infuriating but the Christmas lights look incredible, so it should also be good. Oxford Street always has amazing lights.

Seeing Christmas lights makes it feel like Christmas. This is why I think most people dislike decorations being up to early (a tree up in the last week of November?! - bloody ridiculous).

We dislike it because it gives a false sense of Christmas - a false sense that they should have started their shopping several weeks ago. The lights being put up in November is like a false alarm - they lengthen the stress in the run-up to Christmas. But now it's December, most people seem to agree it is acceptable to put up Christmas decorations. So the false alarm is infact a very real alarm, and not one you should ignore like I've been doing for the last few weeks.

I'm not complaining (except about having to buy presents) because I love Christmas. If you're organised (or just plain naive,) then Christmas is a great time. I've just added 'make gingerbread house' to my 'To Do' list.

Hooray for Christmas!

Jobseeking

Today I went out very much on the offensive in order to get a job of some kind.

I had about 20 copies of my CV with cover letters. Now I know I already have a job, but I'm earning hardly anything, and the whole point of this ruddy gap-year was to earn some money.

So I woke up late.

Oops.

Decided I didn't need to straighten my hair... a dreadful mistake. Put on my most conscientious looking clothes. But then I considered - who would I hire out of someone in plain black flat shoes and someone in glittery heels. I decided on the glittery heels, naturally.

It was the type of odd autumn day where you have to wear a huge coat and sunglasses, because it was so sunny but freezing. It was pretty windy today and my unruly hair wasn't impressed, so by the time I got to town I looked like Hagrid in stilettos... or a hungover Diana Ross, whichever mental image you prefer.

So, in the end I managed to hand out a grand total of 4 CVs, and got 1 application form.

It seems no-one has any jobs for a poor young ragamuffin such as myself. Sob.

Wellies

Wellies

Well, well, well… ies...


I love wellies. They’re ironic in a way. For such a ‘practical’ type of footwear they’re incredibly impractical. I discovered this today when I decided to wear them around the house.

Here’s a list of things I can do in wellies:

1. Washing up
2. Jump up and down
3. Make biscuits
4. Walk short distances
5. Paddle in the bath
   

Here’s a list of things I can’t do in wellies:

1. Sit cross-legged
2. Hand-stands
3. Crazy dancing
4. Run up stairs
5. Justify wearing wellies indoors

Still, if ever my house should flood, my feet will be very much prepared, and that’s what’s really important.

U Can't Touch This

Oh yes, he has a blog.

Mr. Jimi Hendrix

Woop! Happy Birthday to Mr. Jimi Hendrix, who would have been 65 years old today! In honour of this amazing chap, here's some information about him...

"When the Power of Love overcomes the Love of Power, the world will know peace."

Who?
Johnny Allen Hendrix, a.k.a James Marshall Hendrix, a.k.a Jimi Hendrix.

When?
Was born on the 27th November 1942, and died on 18th September 1970 at the age of 27. The height of his fame began in the late sixties, and he famously headlined Woodstock in 1969.

Where?
He was born in Seattle. In 1961 he was arrested for driving a stolen car and was given the choice of 2 years in jail or joining the army – he joined the army and was stationed in Kentucky. After leaving the army, he moved to Tennessee and formed his first band, which then moved to Nashville. After touring the South, he moved to New York. After meeting Chas Chandler (the bassist for The Animals) in New York, he was brought to London, where The Jimi Hendrix Experience was formed, and the rest is history, really.

What?
Need you ask?!

One of, if not the most influential and talented guitarists ever (it's not an opinion, it's a fact). Hendrix pioneered using sustained feedback in music and has had a noticeable impact on rock ever since.

This, teamed with his often flamboyant attire have made him truly iconic. His debut album 'Are You Experienced' remains one of the most popular albums of all time. And quite rightly too.

In 2003, Rolling Stone magazine named him the 'Greatest Guitarist in Rock History'... which is rather nice of them, don't you think? I could go on telling you facts about how fantastic Jimi Hendrix was, but instead I'll leave you with the perfect example of it - a video of part of his headlining set at Woodstock in 1969....

How to be 'Nice'

'Nice' is not a difficult thing to be, it is a difficult thing to try and be. Niceness can't be taught or feigned, it’s an innate characteristic – think intelligence with humility and ambition with thoughtfulness. Quite simply: if you think you are nice, you are not (see: humility).

Faux niceness is often manifested in the form of ettiquette. Ettiquette is a load of bollocks, as Coco Chanel once asserted in a slightly more tactful manner. If you’re past the age of 18 and don’t open doors for people, you probably never will. This doesn’t make you not nice, not does it make you thoughtless. Being ‘thoughtless’ implies there should have been a thought in the first place, or, at least, that there was a deliberate act. And who made up ettiquette anyway?! By the time you’re old enough to be reading this, ettiquette is either automatic, or not. By not performing a ritualistic action you do not become ‘not nice’, just a bit rude and/or stupid maybe. It is entirely possible to be rude, stupid and nice simultaneously (see: Men).

Some people seem naturally nice (Stephen Fry, as seen here knitting in a cravatte). Some people feign it (David Campbell as seen up his own arse). You see the difference – while one is quite charming, the other is a smarmy Tory bastard.

All in all, this blog is pretty pointless. Not only because no one will read it, but also because it is impossible to define a subjective quality (which explains why David Campbell is the leader of the Conservatives... oooh getting political!)

The people whom I find nice may come across as smarmy bastards to someone else.
If you act like yourself, people will either like you, or they won’t. If you try and act nice, they will think you’re a twat. If you try and be a twat, they will think you’re a twat. This is because the majority of people are naturally inclined to think you’re a twat.
This is not pessimism: it’s realism, unfortunately.

Honk

I must stop laughing through my nose.

Whenever I find something funny and I’m taken by surprise, I often laugh through my nose. This is not only rather unattractive but also quite painful.

NAA-MEZ

I’ve always been wary of people with odd names. A prime example being ‘Joaquin “I beg your pardon? …And how is that pronounced exactly?” Phoenix’. From how it’s spelled you’d think it was JO-A-KIN, when actually I’ve been told it’s HWA-KEEN.

To me, stupidly spelled names say either extreme chaviness or pretentiousness.
Now, I can except some people changing their names. For example, David Bowie was originally called David Jones. He changed his name to become memorable. The problem occurs when people feel the need to give themselves memorable names, when they’re really not worth remembering. Now we're left with a generation of 'Quintarvirius's and 'Fifi Trixibelle's as future leaders of society? Great. You might be interested in some other ridiculous names including: Satchel, Moxie Crimefighter and Balthazar (Ok, that last one's pretty cool).

I will forgive, however, glam rock legends who choose to name their children with a certain name purely for the sake of rhyme. E.g. Marc Bolan's son Rolan, or David Bowie's son Zowie (ungrateful sod changed his name to Duncan).

I'm also weary of books with main characters with names that I don't know how to pronounce... Why? You spend the whole book wondering whether you're pronouncing the name correctly or just skipping it when it's written down.

You could be half way through a book when you discover that the character you thought was 'Claire' from 'The Time Traveller's Wife' is infact called 'Clare' - with no 'i'. But then again, how a name's spelt doesn't give a definate indication to how it's pronounced. What you think is pronounced as CL-AIR, could be CL-ARR, or equally it could be pronounced SHIT-BAG, or all the letters could be silent. There you go. Names are stupid, unpredictable things.

Giving Thanks

I’m not American. I have no desire to be American - quite the opposite actually. However, in the spirit of blogging (and optimism in general), here’s a list of my things to be thankful for:

1. My wonderful friends
2. My wonderful boyfriend
3. My youth and (relative) health
4. My seemingly endless supply of optimism

Ok, so not entirely endless because I can't think of anything else. Which is a shame because I like to have lists in multiples of 5. Well, I'm certainly not thankful for my finite supply of imagination.

Live!

So, yesterday I said I thought Patrick Wolf was the best live gig I've ever been to. I stand by that statement, but I thought I'd go through some other amazing shows I've seen, and because of my new found love of lists (I blame Nick Hornby) I shall do it in list form...

The videos I've found are the actual ones I went to, which is pretty cool, but you just can't get the atmosphere from videos unfortunately, so you shall have to take my word for it.

5. Blink 182. OK, hear me out before you label me a pop-punk twat. This was the first gig I ever went to, and yes, the atmosphere was amazing. This is because it was at a time when everybody was obsessed with Blink 182, and everyone knew all the words. We also had front row seats... as if I'd be standing for my first gig!



4. Kate Nash. Because she's great. I wish I'd heard her album before I saw her at Electric Gardens, I think I would have appreciated it more then. She also did 'Skeleton Song' and 'Merry Happy' - she's like Lilly Allen after a good wash only with class, a better voice and, oh yes... talent.




3. The Horrors. They're damn cool at the best of times, but they were great live. It was quite a short set actually. Neil's Children were supporting them and they were just as good, if not better actually, so maybe they should be No 3 in my lovely list. You can't see a lot in this video, but then I couldn't see a lot at the gig so you get the right idea I suppose. I had the hugest bruise on my foot for weeks after this... but I deserved it, I mean what type of idiot wears ballet pumps to a standing gig?! Thanks Faris!




2. The Flaming Lips. This could quite easily be the best gig I've ever been to, but it was missing something that I can't quite pinpoint. Saying that, the atmosphere was incredible, someone had a seizure (not surprisingly). It was amazing, completely brilliant. There was confetti, giant balloons, dancing aliens/santas, lazers, smoke machines, megaphones, nun puppets, singalongs and a bohemian rhapsody encore - and Wayne Coyne is one of the best frontmen in the universe. Fact.




1. Patrick Wolf, of course! He ran around like a glittery little nymph for ages, climbing up the stage supports wearing a sequin waistcoat - what more could you ask for?! Oh, and also he jumped into the crowd a few times, and by into the crowd I mean on us. I was crushed by Mr. Wolf and the wave of screaming pre-teen girls that followed. I'd like to think I wasn't one of them, because I was infact trying to get away from him. I decided I'd rather be able to breathe than be smothered by Patrick Wolf. It was a close call, I'll admit, but I stand by my choice.

Burberry's New Bitches

Oh my goodness. I've just seen a Burberry ad, and guess who was in it... Mr Patrick Wolf! So I did some snooping around and I found out that the new Burberry campaign has got several young british musicians modelling in it! Some people from Larrikin Love, The View and The Paddingtons. I'm not sure which people to be exact, but it's probably not the ugly ones.


She gets around a bit, that Agyness Deyn. 'The new Kate Moss?' Isn't every new english model called that? I'll believe it when I see it.

Also, why isn't Kate Moss in this ad? Seems a bit silly for her not to be in it, but I suppose that would make it too much of a 'freak show' if she was in it as well as all these musicians.

I don't like this photo on the right. Agyness Deyn looks like a stunned goat.

It's a bit odd seeing Patrick Wolf all toned down. That might be what seems wrong with it, they look like lovely Burberry ads as usual, but he loses his oddball charm and becomes more of a Burberry-wearing toff. He's got a toffy face, I reckon, but it's usually off-set by the madness of his usual attire.

Having said that, I have nothing but admiration for anyone who can wear this and get away with it. He is amazing. The best live gig I've ever been to.

I've got a lot of time for a man who wears body glitter.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Yes, I am a tad obsessed with this film. It is infact my favourite film of all time, and some wonderful individual has put it on YouTube in its entirety.

It's such a shame - Jane Russell looks like a pitbull in comparison to Marilyn Monroe.

And as a final insult to poor Miss Russell, just look at the different in their hand prints...

How very mean.

You might wonder why someone who considers themself a feminist would put this amongst their favourite films. I'm going to go all 'English Student' on you now. Well, despite the title there's very little about 'Gentlemen' in the whole film. Whilst I'm not promoting gold-digging, it's an example of women working together (hence the feminism!) and if this was a modern film they'd be pitted against eachother, I bet. Oh, also they're not gold-diggers at the end. Tarts with hearts, how nice.

Away from Work

Yes! I've finally finished working at that dreadful place where I had to get up at 6.30am and got home at 5.30pm. I know it doesn't sound that bad, but trust me, it was. I'm exhausted.

Being a P.A is a fun job. My favourite part was getting to cover objects with those tiny post-its and making them look like fish with papery yellow scales. God I was bored.

Organising other peoples lives makes you more organised yourself. You get used to talking on the phone to people you don't know, and writing lists and filing things, and I've started doing more stuff like that at home to.

I'm going to get a bookshelf like this one:

Just because it's cool. I don't think I have enough books to do that though, so I'm going to have to start buying books because of their spine colours and not their literary merit. But you know, nothing wrong with judging a book by it's cover.

It's a bit worrying - there seems to be a child about to jump off that shelf.

Back to Work

This morning my train was delayed by an hour. It was rather rubbish.

So I lost an hour of work and had to sit on the floor because a shifty looking bloke was eating biscuits really messily on the only bench.

Oh well.

So obviously I was quite pissed off when I got on the train, and even more pissed off when a different shifty looking bloke sat opposite me listening to music really loudly on his iPod.

After a while of listening to the annoying music, I realised it was none other than the lovely Kate Nash! So, as 'Mariella' starts playing... I stare directly at him and start singing the lyrics, "She got some pritt-stick and she glued her lips together so she never had to speak..." and carried on until he gave me a really weird look and just carried on looking out the window.

What a bastard.

I got off at the next station anyway but I pissed him off sufficiently to alleviate my mood somewhat. Displacement is a wonderful thing.

Plan B

Someone left CSI on the TV and I was too lazy to turn it over.

Whilst watching this, I realised if at any point in the future I go completely insane and decide to start a career as a professional murderer, it wouldn’t be entirely impossible.

If anyone ever needs tips on killing people, then just watch CSI. They’re practically telling you how to get away with murder.

Umm... Yay!?

How To Write Haikus

I wrote this haiku
To explain how to write a
Haiku. Ironic?

I write haikus when
I am bored and creative –
So, most of the time.

You may have noticed,
I am writing in haikus.
And I shan’t stop now.

Basic structure is…
Syllables per line that are:
Five, seven and five.

Haikus have three lines.
Traditionally they
Talk about nature.

And that’s about it -
They are quite easy

As you can see… betch.

Dogbox

So this evening I discovered this wonderful website. You can make Bob Dylan say messages on the cue cards from 'Don't Look Back'.

Wonderful messages like this...


















Hooray! I've defaced a cultural icon!

It's a wonderful way to spend an evening, I highly recommend it.

Other words we made Mr. Dylan say included:

Dogbox, Bitchcakes, Shetbags, Boob Scotch, Arseface.

I decided that his hair is lovely, and that I've listened to Subterranean Homesick Blues far too many times today.

Blogs and Clogs

The title lied. I have no clogs. Sorry to disappoint.

I do, however have a blog it seems.

I don't like the word blog so I might call it something else... like a 'dog'... though that might be a bit confusing.