Sometimes it's nice
Not to spend all day on the laptop. Hard to believe, I know.
Yesterday started for me at just gone eleven (I'd stayed up til half two the night before talking to a guy from college about music and nothing else for four whole hours - so I clearly have an excuse) and proceeded to spend the next half hour lazing around the room trying to find something to do which would provide a suitable distraction from downstairs (it's where the laptop is, you see). And, quite unexpectedly, the first thing I go to is something which I haven't gone to in far too long - the book shelf.
And, for some reason unbeknown to myself, the first book that catches my eye is none other than an old children's classic by Lewis Carroll - you may know it - which I soon came to realise I had never actually read before. In my defense, the book was technically given to my sister - and honestly, I don't think I would have fully appreciated it as a child even I had took the initiative to steal it from her and take a read.
Because it is, put simply, weird. Really, really weird.
Obvious, you may say, especially with that well documentary theory claiming that drug-taking had been the main source of inspiration for Wonderland, but in my opinion, I don't believe that you can ever really appreciate the true weirdness of that book until you've actually read it.
However, not only is it weird, but it's actually also kind of brilliant. The storytelling is flawless, the characterization out of this world and the imagination... well. You all know the story.
So anyways, there I was, lying on this make-shift bed thing that's currently in between me and my sister's beds (it's more comfortable, honestly), almost completely hidden from the boring outside world, until Lucy arrives and tells me to get up and taste some icing or something. So, after arriving downstairs, tasting some icing, chatting a bit, listening to Patrick Wolf, and eventually having my first shower of the day (at 2pm - no less :D) Hazel and Lucy's cakes were done. Most were successful. One was not. So, taking advantage of it's failure, me and Lucy hurriedly scoffed down the slightly-less-risen-cake behind Hazel's back, with our mouth's still shamelessly full when she returned. Cue much melodramatic ranting from my darling sister which me and Lucy assumed hoped was in jest.
What proceeded, naturally, by way of apology - or something like it - was me and Lucy deciding to write a song about the incident, which may or may not have rhymed 'took it' and 'cook it' with 'overlook it'. Because we are that cool.
Lucy left at around 6-ish, leaving me to watch some obligatorily horrific documentary about a child beauty pageant - and really, all you need to know about that is that their are some really weird people in this world. Oh, and that irony can be both sick and wonderfully rewarding.
And, towards the end of the afternoon, as the sky was was beginning to look really quite beautiful, and the weather had settled into something which felt just right (y'know, mild summer heat mixed in with a cool, calm breeze and yada yada), I thought I'd take the oppurtunity of doing something I've been planning to do for a long while - to let myself escape from the shallow, mind-numbing world of the internet and into the beautiful, natural world of my back garden, the blissful music I had planned to fill my ears with courtesy of my very own 'Time To Escape' playlist. Of course, this didn't really work all that well because of my RUBBISH ALWAYS STOPPING MID SONG iPod, so, quite inevitably, I was forced to bring out my laptop and listen to all the suitable but limited 'ambient' music I'd managed to put on it during the four or five months I've been using it, and actually, that turned out just fine because it wasn't long before Lyc, Jasmine, Nick and Pete arrived to drag me and Hazel away to Flo's...
I very politely declined, without much reason really, except that I kind of just wanted to stay behind to be anti-social and continue listening to music for the rest of the evening. Which I did, as well as reading a long but wholly insightful (not to mention enviously well written) dissitation on the aesthetics of indie, punk, post-punk, shoegaze and the importance of My Bloody Valentine's musical legacy.
Which leads me to the end of the day, the end of this LJ entry, and the ending question, of when and how I came to be such a shameless nerd...
(Answers on a postcard, folks. Or, y'know, in that little comment section down there. Whichever you feel to be most suitable.)