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Tuesday, July 29th, 2008
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10:48 am
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When I'm lying in my bed at night
I don't wanna grow up
Nothin' ever seems to turn out right
I don't wanna grow up.
How do you move in a world of fog
That's always changing things
Makes me wish that I could be a dog
When I see the price that you pay
I don't wanna grow up
I don't ever wanna be that way
I don't wanna grow up
Seems like folks turn into things
That they'd never want
The only thing to live for is today
I'm gonna put a hole in my TV set
I don't wanna grow up
Open up the medicine chest
And I don't wanna grow up
I don't wanna have to shout it out
I don't want my hair to fall out
I don't wanna be filled with doubt
I don't wanna be a good boy scout
I don't wanna have to learn to count
I don't wanna have the biggest amount
I don't wanna grow up
Well when I see my parents fight
I don't wanna grow up
They all go out and drinking all night
And I don't wanna grow up
I'd rather stay here in my room
Nothin' out there but sad and gloom
I don't wanna live in a big old tomb on Grand Street
When I see the 5 o'clock news
I don't wanna grow up
Comb their hair and shine their shoes
I don't wanna grow up
Stay around in my old hometown
I don't wanna put no money down
I don't wanna get me a big old loan
Work them fingers to the bone
I don't wanna float a broom
Fall in love and get married then boom
How the hell did it get here so soon
I don't wanna grow up
I am 23 today. And, with it, the creeping knowledge of time slipping away, wasted potential and the impotent rage of someone trying to stop the tide coming in around their feet.
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| Monday, May 26th, 2008
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5:50 pm
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Comment on this post and I will choose seven interests from your profile. You will then explain what they mean and why you are interested in them. Post this along with your answers in your own journal so that others can play along.
( too much time on my hands )
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| Thursday, May 15th, 2008
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10:54 am
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On Tuesday, Robert Rauschenberg died.
One day all of my heroes will be dead. I don't much want to live in a world where there's no one to truly admire.
So, here's to you Rauschy. For the little it's worth, you made me want to be an artist. You were Spectacular.
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| Sunday, April 6th, 2008
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2:27 pm
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Biggie made this look fun, but he was right, it's the sort of fun only needed on a hungover sunday. Ipod on random, first lines from the first twenty song, you have to guess and prove that you too are dedicated to music from apple adverts, yadda yadda.
My ipod, recently having been wiped, only contains enough songs to cover the ten minute walk to work, so yes, I appear to have a very limited understanding of music, and yes, some bands appear twice. But still.
1 - "She adores the ache of being fully formed/master of the style that she calls unadorned"
2 - "Suck a male camel's dick/suck a hyena's ass"
3 - "Before we came being southern wasn't something to claim/that flag wasn't something to fly, it was something to blame"
4 - "I put on my overcoat and walked into winter/my teeth chattered rhythms"
5 - "You may tire of me/As our december sun is setting"
6 -" This is the story of your red right ankle/and how it came to meet your leg"
7 - "Stone-cutters made them from stones/Chosen specially for you and I"
8 - "I bet you're wondering how I knew/about your plans to make me blue" (yeah, good luck guessing that one)
9 - "In the year of my decline/Sucking freezies in the rain"
10 - "The most tender place in my heart is for strangers"
11 - "Mr. Muscle forcing bursting/Stingy thingy into little me, me, me"
12 - "Go without/'Til the need seeps in"
13 - "I want to always be on film/to be caught in the cut coffee sober"
14 - "'Scuse me sir i would like to leave the ride/Too many emergencies this time"
15 - "Maybe I'm wrong/Amputate sympathy"
16 - "They found me in a florist/i was fried and out of focus"
17 - "Goodbye baby/Baby goodbye"
18 - "Ambling madly all over the town/The call to arms, you likened to a whisper"
19 - "That's how it starts/We go back to your house"
20 - "Dirty South, can y'all really feel me/East coast feel me, West coast feel me"
OK, my actual number twenty was 'Silent night' but honestly. Biggles, I am assuming you'll get them all.
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| Wednesday, April 2nd, 2008
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9:25 pm
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There are very few jobs that I want enough to spend my evening pressing my face up against the skin of a dead pig, but apparently I have found one. I have done some extremely grim things in my time (to some extremely grim people, zing!) but in recent memory, this one wins.
Pig skin, without meat attached but with the occasional hair and bank of fat, smells like death.
It appears to be rotting in front of your face and is clammy and tough and squishy. And, to tattoo it, you have to get extremely close, pull it taut and breathe it in. Andy responds to my complaints with 'Some of our customers smell of death, suck it up'. And he's right and so i do. I even ignore the spots of dark, dry blood. And, after a bit of retching and reminding myself that 'it's just bacon', whoever that pig used to be now has some nasty tacky tribal designs on what used to be it's skin.
When tattooing a human, I'm not squeamish. They bleed, sure, but they also talk and are warm and soft and not dead. However, I'm starting to think that maybe there are so few female tattooists because of he gross-out factor. Shaving chavs, sniffing dead pig, that sort of thing.
As for Andy's response, I think his army training comes in handy when training me. Sure I'm not being trained to be obedient or serve my country or kill civilians (although, by god, some of them...) but I need to be told to suck it up.
I frequently quit things that are hard, because maybe as a general rule, the things I enjoy never came that hard. I never became a great bassist. I only became an adequate artist because it wasn't that hard, but try to get me to draw a photo-realist study of a human and i'll attempt it a few times and return to my comfort zone.
Well, here, there's no comfort zone. It's not like drawing, as is the common mistake. For one, paper doesn't reek of corpse. But I don't remember wanting something this much for a long time (sure, i really wanted to be a musician but, deep down, I knew it wouldn't happen; whereas here, it already is happening) and the thought of giving up doesn't even cross my mind. But...shit it's hard to do something that looks so fucking easy.
Still, I know I am being given unreliable materials and canvas to make me get good at it at a level that is harder than simply copying a stencil onto a human. I will do this.
( mememe )
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| Friday, March 28th, 2008
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10:59 pm
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I do believe my sleeve is now finished. This is wonderful news. Aside from the inevitable touch-ups, my right arm will never again be tattooed. Having wanted a full sleeve for many a long year, I can now sit back with an ambition achieved. Now to give out sleeves to other unwitting young women.
Photos will follow, but my arm is currently bathed in bepanthen (yes, the nappy stuff; trust me, your tattoos will thank you), with the inner-elbow-bend swollen and sad. Nor do I have a Canadian about to take said photos. But they shall follow.
I have celebrated by 1) buying a decent bottle of wine and 2) embarking on - ahem - my next tattoos. Nothing huge. But Canada panicked. So you might too. Circus ladies win motherfucker.
In actual, serious news, and that which took place frighteningly close to my current home, I haven't been able to stop thinking about the murder of Sophie Lancaster for days. (I've forgotten how to link so i implore anyone who isn't aware of this to google it.)
Now, I'm not one of those eye-for-an-eye-hang-'em-high types - hell, I'm so liberal I have sympathy for James bulger's killers* - but these fucks should hang. Let their families grieve! Whose fault is it that your son became this anyway? i literally cannot understand.
*ask me about this before you get all het up, ok?
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| Friday, March 7th, 2008
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9:52 am - Wisdom
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Had a wisdom tooth extracted on Wednesday. Now, a few things:
1. WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME HOW PAINFUL THIS WOULD BE??
I was told that once the fucker came out, the pain would stop. Not Quadruple. Actually, strike that, it was barely even hurting anymore. This is quite clearly a case of my dentist earning £80 for performing a procedure that didn't really need to be done.
Lesson learned though: if any of the others come through badly, I will be happy in the knowledge that fucking with them in the name of 'help' will only make it much much worse. No more of my cash will you take, mr dentist!
2. WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BOOK DAYS OFF WORK AFTERWARDS?
This relates to 1. It never occurred to me that I would actually be delirious with pain to the extent that I would be walking the street at 3am looking for painkillers. I barely remember being at work yesterday due to being on planet giant fucking swollen mouth of pain.
Although i do remember having to sit in another room and cry for a bit. Crying gets the pressure as good as anything. I'm helpless in the face of this pain.
3. ANESTHETIC???
Is there anything I can use to numb the area?
All the dentist will give me is ibuprofen, which does relieve it a bit, but, crucially, only briefly.
Now, it says on the pack I can only take 6 tablets a day (three of the super strength ones). Yesterday I took 14. I know this is probably low-level paranoia on my behalf but I am haunted by my doctor telling me that the minimum paracetamol needed to kill a person is 7. It'll take a few days but then your liver can pack up.
So yeah, I'm fairly convinced I'll probably die next week. especially considering that this level of pain can go on for two weeks and I'm sure as hell not sucking it up and taking nothing for it.
The tooth itself is nearly an inch long. I might use it to perform voodoo curses on the dentist.
Being in excruciating pain all day is really tiring. Not helped by the fact that sleep only really works until the current painkiller wears off. Plus my mouth tastes of blood more or less constantly.
It's the manchester tattoo convention this weekend, which was supposed to be an excuse to get drunk, show off the sleeve and stare at freaks, but half of my head has Kelly-Osbourne-Jaw so unless something miraculous happens in the next 24 hours, I'll be walking round with a bag over my head, asking people to tattoo me just so I have something else to concentrate on.
Still, I reckon I've quit smoking.
current mood:  JESUS FUCKING PAIN
current music: tegan and sara - so jealous
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| Saturday, March 1st, 2008
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2:30 pm - Stuff on my mind:
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1. i remembered why I don't go into the town centre on a saturday. It's not because I'm massively hungover usually, it's because it's fucking bedlam. Your pushchair is not a weapon! It's supposed to contain the most important thing in your life, do you really want to use it to try and take out eleven stone women who could do some serious damage when they land on mummy's little darling?
2. I bought jeans today. I have not bought a pair of trousers for at least 5 years and am now too scared to try them on.
3. Why are there absolutely no good contestants on this year's american idol, despite there seemingly being at least 76 of them?
4. Why is UK garage now called bassline? is it because there's that stupid noise deep in the mix of every track, honking away?
5. Dear staff of McDonalds, Preston: Rudeness begets rudeness. if you shout at me for being in the 'wrong queue' (huh???!!! there's one queue! Why can't I be in it??) i will then go back to my place of work and be rude to people, who will then go home and batter their kids. Be nice. I know you have a shitty job, but...suck it the fuck up! there was Only One Queue!!
6. I am today making shepherds pie, an enormous one, with sweet potato in the mash and parsnips in the filling. I am also making a chilli, an enormous one. Both of these I shall freeze and share with local orphans. Or stuff my face with during the week, whichever.
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11:33 am
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1. Go to www.photobucket.com (don't sign in)
2. Type in your answer to the question in the "search" box
3. Use only the first page
4. Copy the html and paste for the answer.
( My answers )
I will give two shiny english pounds to anyone who can tell me which band i was listening to.
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| Friday, February 15th, 2008
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9:40 am - whatta man whatta man whatta man what a mighty good man
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If I was to tell you what canada did for Valentines, you'd think it horribly soppy/wish to suffocate us with our own smugness. But suffice to say: Best. Valentines. Ever.
Actually, scrap that, I don't think anyone's ever been so thoughtful.
Yeah, I'm super-smug! And what?
current mood:  love love love!
current music: band o' horses
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| Monday, February 11th, 2008
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5:29 pm - downplaying....
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Oh yeah.
I keep forgetting to post this as most people already know. BUT! I'm getting married.
Yes.
I've actually been engaged a while but we wanted to make sure all family knew before spreading the news. I don't have an engagement ring as I always assumed both parties had one. I know, stupid. Either we both do or no one does!
It'll probably be early next year.
We mostly want a four-slice toaster.
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5:22 pm
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Today, I tattooed my mum.
My first tattoo! I'm not sure I have ever been more afraid. But, equally, as soon as it was over I just wanted to do another. This must be how it feels when someone finally gets on stage with their guitar and rocks it. Let me back out there!! I have found the thing that makes me more excited than anything.
current mood:  excited
current music: hot chip
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| Thursday, January 31st, 2008
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7:22 pm - currently occupying my mind:
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I particularly like hearing what other people think of the Canadian.
Today, I went to our local off license, mentioned that I only live round the corner and the shop assistant said: "You live round the corner? I've never seen you" I replied: "I usually send my boyfriend". Upon hearing that my boyfriend 'has beard. skinny guy' he said: "ah yes. very quiet guy? He's a good man".
Most people tell me that Canada is 'A quiet guy'. Everyone says 'He's a good guy'. I hear that a lot. No one ever has a bad word to say of him, at least not to me.
I always find it hard equating that quiet guy with the man who steals my nose every night and calls me a 'fucking blowjob'. But no one ever says anything other than 'he's a good guy'.
I am so so lucky to have that skinny jew-faced son of a bitch. I love him. It's almost a year since we go together, it feels like a few weeks. We've lived together for most of that, but we don't spend evenings not speaking, and we never go to bed separately. We've been in this house for six months now - I am 22-and-a-half today in fact. I am halfway towards twenty three. Which is old. I still judge all aging as I would see it if I were sixteen, and twenty three is not something I should be. Twenty three sounds like an adult who has a job and mortgage...
the 'arctic winds' which are devastating Preston threw me into a fence walking to the shop. I had to put on my wind face and try to fight it, with clenched fists and all. It's actually crazy. As in, people have died. My headphones blew out of my ears.
Tonight, I went for pints with my boss. My boss is the best. We chatted about books, and tattoos of course, as they seem to be the thing we both think about all damn day (and whether it ever got tiring being a novelty in the pub - having people come up and go 'I want this!' and not remember it later. I am still fresh enough to this job to find it fun having people want to talk about my tats for a while).
I got keys for the shop today, and two people thought that I would be tattooing them, and were happy with that. This made me feel good - they would be happy trusting me with their selves. Plus they talk to you with sooo much more respect). One had been recommended by a friend who told him 'the young girl who works there is a rally good draw-er (not drawer)'. There's only two people who work there so it must be me.
I am so fucking lucky at the moment. Life is GOOD.
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| Friday, January 25th, 2008
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5:49 pm
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This week I have mostly had The Virus. Which, it seems, requires no further elaboration. "I've had that virus" "The Virus" "Yes". If you believe the Lancashire Evening Post 'Thousands' have been struck down with The Virus, and with my immune system, or lack of, I was expecting him to come calling at some point. Today, a customer, tiger terry, recalled his experiences of The Virus thus: 'I didn't care if I went to sleep and never woke up'. Dramatic. I just puked bright green stuff for a bit and slept for a whole day.
Today, to celebrate being referred to as 'thin' by a customer (it was his explanation for mistaking me for a herbivore - 'You're thin and pasty' - which is downright insulting. but hey - THIN!) I bought a new dress. having secured my tattooing equipment and with nothing else to save for, I have decided to buy one item of clothing per week for 'my new look'. The new look, basically involves me realising that, with half of my hair shaved off, large red glasses and my sleeve pretty much completed, I do not need to add contrasting patterns and bright colours to the mix. With my arms containing pretty much every colour available in ink, everything clashes. So it is time for some sensible clothing. In black. or brown. Black also helps with the ever expanding waistline problem.
So, yes, George at asda is distinctly where it's at. Back shift dresses with white detail and - crucially - short sleeves (I haven't spent the best part of forty hours under the needle to hide these babies) and all at very reasonable prices. Of course, sensible not being my default setting, nothing is getting thrown out. There will always be days when you want to look like an angry colouring book back to reap revenge.
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| Friday, January 18th, 2008
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7:17 pm - The 'unutterable trainwreck' rolls out of town.
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Well, I have a full-time job. I live with my partner. I do all the bills and rent and stuff. I am rarely drunk on weeknights (Friday is not a weeknight). what is left to do?
Oh, yes. I'm coming off the meds. Finally.
I have been dreading this as much as I look forward to it being all done with, since I know it won't be easy (my last attempt to ditch the drugs, i lasted four days at fifteen mg before declaring 'screw this scary shit' and getting right back up to twenty. but I wasn't exactly in a supportive environment then).
The doc reckons that every time i lessen the dose, the first week will be a bit iffy - I am, to all intents and purposes, addicted to these things - but that I should 'ride it out'. I have warned Canada.
I am currently at fifteen, until next week where i start alternating between ten and fifteen. Ten milligrams! That sounds weird. They give that much to angsty teenagers!
Five mg, which I should be down to in three months, seems a lifetime away. In april my brain will be clearer than it has been for eight years. How very garden state. I hope someone write 'balls' on my head while i listen to the shins and scream into a giant hole. Get it?? DO YOU GET IT??? how clever.
I digress.
So. I am...sane then. Or as good as. i mean, doc didn't talk me out of it. And I have no doubt that i'm only still on the pills because I'm scared to not be. Of course, with regained sanity comes the knowledge that such things are fragile, and that I don't really know what it's like to exist as the person I am without chemical assistance. Exactly the same, i imagine, only with no exonerating factors to blame my bad moods on. No, wait! I haven't been sleeping. there. Always an excuse.
(For the record, I have been a bit under the weather the past few days, since taking the lat 20mg tablet i'll ever take. not crazy, or full blown sad, or anything like the old days, just a bit of a grump. Will keep you updated).
current mood: going normal
current music: elvis perkins
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| Thursday, January 3rd, 2008
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7:39 pm - A good omen:
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The first film watched this year was Sister act 2.
Also, feel free to congratulate myself and canada on our ten months of blissful co-dependence.
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| Friday, December 21st, 2007
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7:37 pm
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| Thursday, November 15th, 2007
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10:11 pm - What i did at work today.
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The choice of design was Andy's, I hasten to add (and it needs a scrub down). Watermelon is my friend, whereas grapefruit is more like that person at work who you try to get to do your bidding, but, damn them, they won't.
I'm happy with this. I think if you were inclined to visit a tattoo studio with a bad reputation and under-experienced staff, you'd be happy enough with this. As long as you knew someone called Simon. I'm improving. hurrah. Constantly observing, working harder than I probably ever have, but I never leave work feeling anything but cheerful, nor do I ever ever think 'god i don't want to go to work tomorrow'. So, bonus!
STILL ill though. STILL snuffling and coughing and generally being quite foul. To the extent that now my nose is scabby through overuse. Scabby on the outside! Grim.
Does anyone I know have animal crossing for the DS? I have only just realised what the wi-fi function involves, and goddamn i want to play! Give me a friends code, my town is full of horrible creatures who I've taught to swear!
also - Laura! I keep forgetting to emaail, but I miss you terribly and want some time with the Hanaghans! Sadly, I'm busy until the second weekend in December but can we do something then?
current mood:  tired
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| Friday, November 9th, 2007
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8:43 pm
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1. Sick sick sick.
The clocks go back, and of course, my thought turn to whether or not I should be concerned about any slight changes in my mood or behaviour. One day of PMT (no worse than usual) leaves me terrified that i'm staring into a spiral of SAD-induced madness as every previous year in memory. But, I think it'll be ok, worried but not over concerned.
However! I am actually sick! that between-cold-and-flu sick that's too fierce to be cold, but not as dehabilitating as people tell you flu is. Sick enough to miss the Shins though! That must be pretty ill, I figure. I also lost my voice for a day, which is rather frustrating when you have a boss who calls you a ginger bastard and sacks you on the hour. It also makes you a pretty shoddy receptionist.
2. As anything after November 5th counts as the festive season, I have stocked up on decorations and inflateable snowmen (and a santa teapot!) I put some money away each week with which to provide my dearests (and self) with the Best Christmas Ever!!! SO! If anyone wants to spend their Christmas with the Feef-Canadas, there will be much food, hospitality and spray-on snow (already bought). Apply within.
3. Since going on the pill, I seem to have come into possession of the fabled Bratherton Breasts. They are frightening. I guess they're in proportion with the 'love weight' I have also acquired but still! Lots of my dresses have stopped fitting, gaping at the buttons as the boys make a bid for newly-engorged freedom. An odd thing to suddenly wake up to at 22.
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| Monday, October 8th, 2007
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7:35 pm
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I don't write too much these days. I do much more than I used to do, but I feel less inclined to write. Less to complain about.
I've been using my day off productively. Unpacking. Empty boxes are starting to outnumber those still full, and the half of the living room I actually use looks sparce. Soon we will have our L-shaped sofa, and extra bookcases (how lucky the Canadian is to have gained a rather substantial library of comic books). We will eventually hang pictures and add our respective personal touches. New buildings are so devoid of character. Only our mess reveals that this is ours: newspapers, stray make up, piles of CDs.
On days like today, when Canada is away and I'm doing laundry and hoovering (well, I will be hoovering. Or maybe tomorrow), it seems to surreal to be living here. This is my place and I can do what I like in it. Even Milland house wasn't mine as such, we didn't keep our things anywhere but our bedrooms, but here, it's my books on the shelves in the living room, my music playing. If i want to have friends round, I can. If I want to stay up until four playing Mario, that's OK too.
I have more responsibilities than I've probably ever had, but equally, I am freer than I've ever been. We're poor but we're happy. Things are good. And, in a few more months, we might be fully unpacked.
current mood:  thoughtful
current music: stars - ...after the war
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