(no subject)
So it's Tuesday. This weekend went sooo fast. They tend to do that.
Slightly sick again, little cough and sniffle and sore throat, probably because of insanely screwed up sleeping patterns. But then, that's me.
Had a really great visit with Jamie. We spent a lot of time preparing and consuming meals, because she's not been eating anything but crisps and cheese and fizzy drinks since she's been here apparently. The best and easiest meal we managed was barbeque tofu sandwiches. But we also made some really terrific red pepper pesto cream sauce that we put on tortellini. I haven't eaten this well since I was back home.
My dorm, which I love dearly, has been recently falling apart. About a week ago some idiot broke into our laundry room to steal the coins out of the machines, breaking all of them in the process. In consequence, Manor Hall has no laundry room until after Christmas. We have to walk to other buildings with our huge laundry bags to use their washing machines instead. And if it wasn't bad enough that we had no laundry, yesterday after Jamie left the west side of the building (my side, of course) had a gas leak. In order to keep all of us from dying, they turned off the gas at the source. Result: no oven, stove, or grill; no more cooking until it is fixed. Had sandwiches for dinner. Hopefully we'll have the gas back before Christmas, otherwise I'm going to have to make friends with people who live in the east side of the building.
Jamie and I also got slightly drunk off vodka and mixer drinks, like VK and Red Square Pink, and talked about what made 'art' and 'artists', and how art is about sharing your unique perspective with the world and therefore as an artist you should never allow your work to be compromised by ideas of 'popularity', acceptability, style and structure. Of course it all sounded much more deep ad insightful at the time, and we probably did come up with some really good points, but these conversations are never the same in the retelling, anyway. I love how we end up having these random theoretical discussions when we're drunk, though, it's funny to be talking about stuff like kinship and art and sociology and morality and get really intense and intellectual about it.
Modest Mouse concert rocked. Seriously fun. The Fleece in Bristol is actually a really small venue, basically just a largish bar. I hadn't heard much of their music until the concert, actually, but I heard a few songs that I did know, and really enjoyed some of their darker, weirder music that was new to me. They have a lot of different sounds, quite a range of instruments and vocal effects, and it definately kept things interesting. Jamie also bought herself a T-shirt which was black with an orange hot-air balloon on it, which she claims that Dean will be jealous of. Modest Mouse (apparently fans just call them Mouse) ended with a really awesome version of This Devil's Workday, which is actually one of the few songs of theirs that I'd heard before the show. The lead singer went crazy in a very premeditated and self-contained sort of way that I appreciated. I want to hear more of their music now, but I'm going to have to wait until I can spend money without worrying about food.
The warm-up bands were kind of crap though. I think they were slightly better than the opening acts for Lacuna Coil when I saw them with Sarah and David in The Knitting Factory in NYC, but these bands were playing something that sounded suspiciously like COUNTRY MUSIC and it frightened me.
All in all I'd rather watch synchronized moshing and make fun of the heavy metal overload, than be subjected to the banjo-twanging agony of what I assume to be a misguided effort on the part of Brits to appreciate country music. Country music is not for appreciating. It is for shunning at all costs. Possibly, in the great and glorious America towards which our President is leading us, it will be employed by the government as capital punishment in place of more traditional, less painful forms of execution.
Slightly sick again, little cough and sniffle and sore throat, probably because of insanely screwed up sleeping patterns. But then, that's me.
Had a really great visit with Jamie. We spent a lot of time preparing and consuming meals, because she's not been eating anything but crisps and cheese and fizzy drinks since she's been here apparently. The best and easiest meal we managed was barbeque tofu sandwiches. But we also made some really terrific red pepper pesto cream sauce that we put on tortellini. I haven't eaten this well since I was back home.
My dorm, which I love dearly, has been recently falling apart. About a week ago some idiot broke into our laundry room to steal the coins out of the machines, breaking all of them in the process. In consequence, Manor Hall has no laundry room until after Christmas. We have to walk to other buildings with our huge laundry bags to use their washing machines instead. And if it wasn't bad enough that we had no laundry, yesterday after Jamie left the west side of the building (my side, of course) had a gas leak. In order to keep all of us from dying, they turned off the gas at the source. Result: no oven, stove, or grill; no more cooking until it is fixed. Had sandwiches for dinner. Hopefully we'll have the gas back before Christmas, otherwise I'm going to have to make friends with people who live in the east side of the building.
Jamie and I also got slightly drunk off vodka and mixer drinks, like VK and Red Square Pink, and talked about what made 'art' and 'artists', and how art is about sharing your unique perspective with the world and therefore as an artist you should never allow your work to be compromised by ideas of 'popularity', acceptability, style and structure. Of course it all sounded much more deep ad insightful at the time, and we probably did come up with some really good points, but these conversations are never the same in the retelling, anyway. I love how we end up having these random theoretical discussions when we're drunk, though, it's funny to be talking about stuff like kinship and art and sociology and morality and get really intense and intellectual about it.
Modest Mouse concert rocked. Seriously fun. The Fleece in Bristol is actually a really small venue, basically just a largish bar. I hadn't heard much of their music until the concert, actually, but I heard a few songs that I did know, and really enjoyed some of their darker, weirder music that was new to me. They have a lot of different sounds, quite a range of instruments and vocal effects, and it definately kept things interesting. Jamie also bought herself a T-shirt which was black with an orange hot-air balloon on it, which she claims that Dean will be jealous of. Modest Mouse (apparently fans just call them Mouse) ended with a really awesome version of This Devil's Workday, which is actually one of the few songs of theirs that I'd heard before the show. The lead singer went crazy in a very premeditated and self-contained sort of way that I appreciated. I want to hear more of their music now, but I'm going to have to wait until I can spend money without worrying about food.
The warm-up bands were kind of crap though. I think they were slightly better than the opening acts for Lacuna Coil when I saw them with Sarah and David in The Knitting Factory in NYC, but these bands were playing something that sounded suspiciously like COUNTRY MUSIC and it frightened me.
All in all I'd rather watch synchronized moshing and make fun of the heavy metal overload, than be subjected to the banjo-twanging agony of what I assume to be a misguided effort on the part of Brits to appreciate country music. Country music is not for appreciating. It is for shunning at all costs. Possibly, in the great and glorious America towards which our President is leading us, it will be employed by the government as capital punishment in place of more traditional, less painful forms of execution.