I've only just noticed the last post ended rather abruptly. Think it was a technical hitch. Or maybe it's the curse of Flash and not only is it difficult to get to but difficult to write about as well. Yesterday I was met by Gravy Dave in Leek for a lovely surprise. The surprise was waiting for me at the pub, in the form of some very good friends who I thought I wouldn't see before I went. Salt Face also had a surprise for me. A beautiful necklace. He says I am the hardest girl in the world to buy jewellery for, which is true.
This morning I woke up and thought that I better check that I had my passport as I have become renowned for losing it abroad, leaving it behind and generally not having it when I need to fly anywhere. And of course, nowhere to be seen. Then I remebered having seen a passport lying on Salt Face's bedroom floor and ignoring it 'cos I didn't think it was mine. But it was mine. So it was Dad to the rescue, as it always is when I have a passport disaster. Although if i hadn't left my passport there I wouldn't have got to say goodbye to Peggy Pooh Face the jack russell chihuahua dog. Thank goodness I have my own dogs to go home to. Even if they are horrible scunging devil dogs I love them to bits.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
Going to Flash
It was the Derry Man's birthday on Friday so the plan was to meet at Miss C's house for cake and drinks and then go to town in the evening. As I'd been out the night before and got horribly drunk, I didn't arrive until everyone else had gone into town. So apologies to Miss C for missing out on her amazing cheese cake. There were a few special people who couldn't be there and were missed but a very pleasant evening was had by all.
On Saturday dad took me and Salt Face and the Lovely L to Flash. Flash is the highest village in England and it lies in between Leek and Buxton. Because of where the village is situated, high up and isolated, it became notorious for illicit practices such as cock fighting and counterfeiting. I imagined it to be like Royston Vasey in The League of Gentlemen and wondered if we went up there would we ever return.
The trip to Flash is something I've been trying to do all summer. It was my mum who first told me about it and when I found out how close I was to it I thought it would be nice to drink a pint in the highest village in England. I told my friends and for a few weekends in a row they would come meet me in Leek and we'd try to organise taxi's for us all. Except I could never get a taxi. So each time we'd resort to a plan B. On Saturday we finaly got a taxi organised so me and Salt Face sent them all off to Flash telling them that we'd meet them up there with my dad and the Lovely L.
When we arrived they were nowhere to be seen. We took a drive through the village and down the hill where the view was spectacular. We turned and drove back to the village, parked up the car and went into the pub where we thought they'd be waiting for us. But they weren't in there either. We'd ordered drinks and were wondering what happened to them when the Lovely L suggested that maybe they were at the Traveller's Inn just ten minutes up the road. So me and Salt Face set off to the pub up the road and sure enough they were all sitting there wondering what had happened to us. The taxi driver had just assumed they'd want to go to that pub and as they'd never been to Flash before they thought they didn't know it was t
On Saturday dad took me and Salt Face and the Lovely L to Flash. Flash is the highest village in England and it lies in between Leek and Buxton. Because of where the village is situated, high up and isolated, it became notorious for illicit practices such as cock fighting and counterfeiting. I imagined it to be like Royston Vasey in The League of Gentlemen and wondered if we went up there would we ever return.
The trip to Flash is something I've been trying to do all summer. It was my mum who first told me about it and when I found out how close I was to it I thought it would be nice to drink a pint in the highest village in England. I told my friends and for a few weekends in a row they would come meet me in Leek and we'd try to organise taxi's for us all. Except I could never get a taxi. So each time we'd resort to a plan B. On Saturday we finaly got a taxi organised so me and Salt Face sent them all off to Flash telling them that we'd meet them up there with my dad and the Lovely L.
When we arrived they were nowhere to be seen. We took a drive through the village and down the hill where the view was spectacular. We turned and drove back to the village, parked up the car and went into the pub where we thought they'd be waiting for us. But they weren't in there either. We'd ordered drinks and were wondering what happened to them when the Lovely L suggested that maybe they were at the Traveller's Inn just ten minutes up the road. So me and Salt Face set off to the pub up the road and sure enough they were all sitting there wondering what had happened to us. The taxi driver had just assumed they'd want to go to that pub and as they'd never been to Flash before they thought they didn't know it was t
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Finally!! It's taken me ages to sign in. Could this be blogger telling me something?? Anyway, rather than prattling on about nothing in particular I've decided to share the wonderful words of Psychedelic Lee. It is as yet untitled but I think it's from a collection which he calls Fragments of Life.
Grief overwhelms the writer when he sits down to write about what is meaningful to his living present, for he can only ever write about the past and, even then, only by avoiding what really matters. He provides the reader with a few clues whereby they can fill in the gaps and feel, if not understand, what really mattered. So instead songs are written, which are always about the present, that will never be heard by those who matter, even if listened to. But even songs move into the past and lose their meaning, or rather what they mean changes, as what is lost is necessarily replaced with something different, a happy forgetfulness. Only then can the writer sit down and write, and leave the reader to decide what matters, and as long as it retains ambiguity the text can forever live and capture a fragment of life.
Now, if you feel slightly confused after reading this the reason is most probably because it was written at 4 O'Clock in the morning after much rum and whiskey. But also, if you feel slightly confused after reading this, then I think it's purpose has been served. For anyone who is interested in Philosophy, I'll be putting a link to more of Psychedelic's writing very soon.
Grief overwhelms the writer when he sits down to write about what is meaningful to his living present, for he can only ever write about the past and, even then, only by avoiding what really matters. He provides the reader with a few clues whereby they can fill in the gaps and feel, if not understand, what really mattered. So instead songs are written, which are always about the present, that will never be heard by those who matter, even if listened to. But even songs move into the past and lose their meaning, or rather what they mean changes, as what is lost is necessarily replaced with something different, a happy forgetfulness. Only then can the writer sit down and write, and leave the reader to decide what matters, and as long as it retains ambiguity the text can forever live and capture a fragment of life.
Now, if you feel slightly confused after reading this the reason is most probably because it was written at 4 O'Clock in the morning after much rum and whiskey. But also, if you feel slightly confused after reading this, then I think it's purpose has been served. For anyone who is interested in Philosophy, I'll be putting a link to more of Psychedelic's writing very soon.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Acoustic Neat
Last night I went to acoustic night at the Talbot. Since being unemployed I have had plenty of spare time to practise on my geetar. So, thought I, I shall do a wee number at acoustic night. I put my name down on the list and drank JD and cokes until it was my turn. The tune I was thinking of doing is a Bright Eyes song called The First Day of My Life. But unfortunately nerves got the better of me and I forgot the chords and the words so I couldn't even bluff it. I had to completely abandon that one and move swiftly onto the next, which was Trenchtown Rock, originally by Bob Marley but I was doing the Sublime version. This didn't go as smoothly as planned either but at least I remembered the chords and words. I wish I was 17 again. I didn't care then about forgetting words and not being very good.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Farewell Stoke
'Tis only a week and a few days before I go back to Ireland. I've been thinking about the things I am looking forward to. Top of the list has to be seeing my family, this includes the dogs and cat. I am especially looking forward to the new arrivals (if the rumours are true!). I am looking forward to being independent again, when I'm working and have my own flat. I am looking forward to all the wonderful people I've met in Stoke coming to visit me in Belfast. I am also looking forward to spending some time in the countryside before hitting the big city, and Nellybert's new house.
But of course, thinking of all the things I am looking forward to inevitably leads me to think about all the things I'm gonna miss. I'll miss my friends a lot. They are the ones who make Stoke a nice place to live. I'm gonna miss Gravy Dave and his weird bus station obsession. I'm gonna miss AC and her ability to outdrink near enough everyone she knows. I'm gonna miss accoustic night at the Talbot although I won't miss Dog Ruff's songs. But most importantly, I'm gonna miss my big handsome Man Beast. I'll miss him making me coffee in the morning and bringing me sweets back from the shop. I'll miss him loads but hopefully he will be joining me in March next year.
So the next week involves catching up with people and doing nice things. Dad has promised to take me to Flash (the highest village in England) and there is the new playground in Hanley Park that I haven't tested out yet. And of course, packing.
But of course, thinking of all the things I am looking forward to inevitably leads me to think about all the things I'm gonna miss. I'll miss my friends a lot. They are the ones who make Stoke a nice place to live. I'm gonna miss Gravy Dave and his weird bus station obsession. I'm gonna miss AC and her ability to outdrink near enough everyone she knows. I'm gonna miss accoustic night at the Talbot although I won't miss Dog Ruff's songs. But most importantly, I'm gonna miss my big handsome Man Beast. I'll miss him making me coffee in the morning and bringing me sweets back from the shop. I'll miss him loads but hopefully he will be joining me in March next year.
So the next week involves catching up with people and doing nice things. Dad has promised to take me to Flash (the highest village in England) and there is the new playground in Hanley Park that I haven't tested out yet. And of course, packing.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Words of Advice for Young People
I've never read any of William S. Burroughs' books but I've come across a few different versions of one particular recording and I can't help but laugh at it. It's called 'Words of Advice for Young People' Here's my take on it:
I am sometimes asked if I have any words of advice for young people. Well, here are a few simple admonitions for young and old, man and beast.
Never interfere in a boy and girl fight.
This is true, if you are a man who wants to play the hero and thinks he is 'rescuing' the poor damsel in distress. If you've got a headache because it's been a tough day, and said boy and girl are screaming at each other like psychos, then fair play to ye.
Beware of whores who say they don't want money. The hell they don't. What they mean is that they want *more* money; much more, these are the most expensive whores what can be got.
Ahem.
I'm pretty sure Burroughs is talking about prostitutes here but my take on it is, beware of anyone who says they don't want something. If they really didn't want it they wouldn't need to say they didn't want it.
If, after having been exposed to someone's presence, you feel as if you've lost a quart of plasma, avoid that presence. You need it like you need pernicious anemia.
We don't like to hear the word "vampire" around here; we're trying to improve our public image. Building a kindly, avuncular, benevolent image; "interdependence" is the keyword -- "enlightened interdependence".
Life in all its rich variety, take a little, leave a little. However, by the inexorable logistics of the vampiric process they always take more than they leave -- and why, indeed, should they take any?
I agree with this completely. But unfortunately we don't always have a choice in the matter. We are exposed to all kinds of unsavory types, at work, down the pub, and sometimes even in our own homes. The best thing to do is vent all your frustrations at having to deal with these people, to anyone who will listen, and thus become the "vampire".
Avoid fuck-ups. Fools, I call them. You all know the type -- no matter how good it sounds, everything they have anything to do with turns into a disaster. Trouble for themselves and everyone connected with them. A fool is bad news, and it rubs off -- don't let it rub off on you.
Very true, bad qualities do rub off on people. And dealing with disasters created by other people is always ten times more annoying than dealing with disasters created by yourself.
Do not proffer sympathy to the mentally ill; it is a bottomless pit. Tell them firmly, "I am not paid to listen to this drivel -- you are a terminal fool!" Otherwise, they make you as crazy as they are.
Also very true. If you listen to crazy people too much they do start to make you crazy.
Above all, avoid confirmed criminals. They are a special malignant strain of fool.
I'd agree with this if I had more faith in the criminal justice system, but I don't. And considering William S. Burroughs accidentally shot and killed his wife trying to re-enact the William Tell 'shooting an apple on someone’s head' routine while high on heroin and getting off with it on the grounds that he pleaded insanity, I think my lack of faith is totally understandable
I am sometimes asked if I have any words of advice for young people. Well, here are a few simple admonitions for young and old, man and beast.
Never interfere in a boy and girl fight.
This is true, if you are a man who wants to play the hero and thinks he is 'rescuing' the poor damsel in distress. If you've got a headache because it's been a tough day, and said boy and girl are screaming at each other like psychos, then fair play to ye.
Beware of whores who say they don't want money. The hell they don't. What they mean is that they want *more* money; much more, these are the most expensive whores what can be got.
Ahem.
I'm pretty sure Burroughs is talking about prostitutes here but my take on it is, beware of anyone who says they don't want something. If they really didn't want it they wouldn't need to say they didn't want it.
If, after having been exposed to someone's presence, you feel as if you've lost a quart of plasma, avoid that presence. You need it like you need pernicious anemia.
We don't like to hear the word "vampire" around here; we're trying to improve our public image. Building a kindly, avuncular, benevolent image; "interdependence" is the keyword -- "enlightened interdependence".
Life in all its rich variety, take a little, leave a little. However, by the inexorable logistics of the vampiric process they always take more than they leave -- and why, indeed, should they take any?
I agree with this completely. But unfortunately we don't always have a choice in the matter. We are exposed to all kinds of unsavory types, at work, down the pub, and sometimes even in our own homes. The best thing to do is vent all your frustrations at having to deal with these people, to anyone who will listen, and thus become the "vampire".
Avoid fuck-ups. Fools, I call them. You all know the type -- no matter how good it sounds, everything they have anything to do with turns into a disaster. Trouble for themselves and everyone connected with them. A fool is bad news, and it rubs off -- don't let it rub off on you.
Very true, bad qualities do rub off on people. And dealing with disasters created by other people is always ten times more annoying than dealing with disasters created by yourself.
Do not proffer sympathy to the mentally ill; it is a bottomless pit. Tell them firmly, "I am not paid to listen to this drivel -- you are a terminal fool!" Otherwise, they make you as crazy as they are.
Also very true. If you listen to crazy people too much they do start to make you crazy.
Above all, avoid confirmed criminals. They are a special malignant strain of fool.
I'd agree with this if I had more faith in the criminal justice system, but I don't. And considering William S. Burroughs accidentally shot and killed his wife trying to re-enact the William Tell 'shooting an apple on someone’s head' routine while high on heroin and getting off with it on the grounds that he pleaded insanity, I think my lack of faith is totally understandable
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Our First Date
When we first got together my boyfriend told me that he would take me on a date to the Monkey Park. I waited two and a half years for that date. I had to wait for them to actually build a monkey park! And luckily they built it just down the road from us at Trentham Gardens. I forget what breed of monkey's they have there but the little guy on the left is one of their specimens. Just after this picture was taking the little fella nearly took off with my camera bag.
What Cruel Mums Do To Their Kids
Take six little kids, two bored mums and what do you get? You get cruelty to children. Only one of the kids in that picture looks happy and I reckon she's putting it on. Oh, and there are four girls and two boys in this picture but I bet you can't tell for sure which is which. I only know because I'm one of them.
Well Done Man Beast
Congratulations to Man Beast who found out today that he got a 2:1 in his degree. Bet his momma's proud of him. I am too. Well done baby you did good.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Who Is the Fairest of Them All?
I just can't decide which of these two fellows is the most handsome. I think I might prefer the one on the right though I'm not sure why.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure
I will be moving back to Ireland in about a weeks time. For sure. People who know me will be dubious as I was saying this a couple of months ago. I even had a leaving party and got my friends to come from all over. It was a lovely party. Then I decided to stay in Stoke after all. But after two more months here I know I definitely want to leave. Belfast seems a good place to move to. I will be closer to my family and I can catch up with old friends I haven't been in touch with since going to university. Ireland is my home and although I couldn't wait to leave it when I was 18 I now miss it dearly.
Of course I will miss this place too. Stoke has a definite charm. The house I live in at the minute is my Dad's parents house. It's the house where I spent all my summer holidays since the age of nought. So although Ireland is my home, this house is the only house that remains from my childhood. Sometimes when I walk through the door it smells just like it did when I was a child. There is no other smell that brings me back to my childhood so vividly.
So this leads on to why I have named my blog 'The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure'. At my leaving party I was given a gift by a beautiful, sweet Polish lass (you know who you are). It was a book by Adam Williams, titled 'The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure'. My friend told me that she read this book in Polish and it was the most amazing thing she has ever read so when she saw it English she had to buy it for me. I love to read so it was a good present. I read the title and I thought it sounded lovely. In my drunken state I thought it might be a book that would show me how to get to the Palace of Heavenly Pleasure. Having read it now I'm not sure I want to go there. The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure (and now it seems so painfully obvious) is actually a brothel. But Hey! We all have to name our blog after something and at least it's better than 'Hannah's Blog'
Of course I will miss this place too. Stoke has a definite charm. The house I live in at the minute is my Dad's parents house. It's the house where I spent all my summer holidays since the age of nought. So although Ireland is my home, this house is the only house that remains from my childhood. Sometimes when I walk through the door it smells just like it did when I was a child. There is no other smell that brings me back to my childhood so vividly.
So this leads on to why I have named my blog 'The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure'. At my leaving party I was given a gift by a beautiful, sweet Polish lass (you know who you are). It was a book by Adam Williams, titled 'The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure'. My friend told me that she read this book in Polish and it was the most amazing thing she has ever read so when she saw it English she had to buy it for me. I love to read so it was a good present. I read the title and I thought it sounded lovely. In my drunken state I thought it might be a book that would show me how to get to the Palace of Heavenly Pleasure. Having read it now I'm not sure I want to go there. The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure (and now it seems so painfully obvious) is actually a brothel. But Hey! We all have to name our blog after something and at least it's better than 'Hannah's Blog'
Friday, September 09, 2005
Happy Birthday Moms
Today is my mum's birthday so I'm wishing her a very happy one. Unfortunately I haven't figured out how to post pictures yet so, even though I've been trying really hard. Blogger is a complete liar when it says it's dead easy to use. They don't account for complete technophobes like myself. But my mum is now a blogger expert, and although I can't be there for her birthday I will be with her soon and she can pass all the blogger wisdom down to me. And if you want to find out if she's having a nice birthday you can click on the Nelly's Garden link, just to the right.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Man Beast and Dog Beast
Like most couples, my boyfriend and I have various nick-names for each other. So if I'm ever chatting about Man Beast, I'm referring to my boy. It's not that he's a beast (well, sometimes he is) it's just that he has hair like a lion's mane. And I suppose when I think about it, he's the most manly man I have ever been with. Not like the effeminate, smooth-faced pretty boys I normally go out with. So he's my Man Beast. And I'm his Dog Beast.
But his current pet name for me at the minute is Face Face. This is an escalation from Salt Face and Pepper Head. He likes salt and I like pepper. We were calling each other all kinds of things like Pineapple Face, Elephant Eyes, Toenail Face, Turnip Head. Until one day MB called me Face Face. And that one stuck. And I am so bored of it now I want a new nick-name.
I have asked him kindly but still he calls me Face Face. And sometimes Face Off. Neither are romantic in the slightest.
But his current pet name for me at the minute is Face Face. This is an escalation from Salt Face and Pepper Head. He likes salt and I like pepper. We were calling each other all kinds of things like Pineapple Face, Elephant Eyes, Toenail Face, Turnip Head. Until one day MB called me Face Face. And that one stuck. And I am so bored of it now I want a new nick-name.
I have asked him kindly but still he calls me Face Face. And sometimes Face Off. Neither are romantic in the slightest.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Doubt
Yesterday I decided I was going to move to Belfast. It took half an hour before I began to wonder if I had made the right decision. What is with that!? Half an hour of being sure of myself and then doubt. So if I'm doubting moving to Belfast it makes sense that I stay in Stoke? But no, I doubt that too. Goddammit why can't I be sure of anything? And then I realise, this is life.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Bears in the Woods
It's a beautiful day! I've got to go to Keele University to see a man about a job and there's some pretty woods up there so I might take a nice walk amongst the trees. It might inspire me to write something half decent. Or I might get eaten by bears. Either way, it'll be better than being cooped up all day.
Monday, September 05, 2005
What I Did Today
Well, job hunting was a bit of a washout really. The first shop I saw with a vacancy advertised outside, I went in and enquired about it. The lady told me that she was still waiting for the application forms but I always assume the worst and reckoned that she didn't like the look of me and didn't want to give me a job. I guess I can convince myself this is true because it was a health food shop I went into and I don't exactly look the picture of health. Maybe she thought I would be bad advertising. Anyway, this disheartened me so I met up with Gravy Dave instead and just moaned to him about how crap it is not having a job. I don't really do myself any favours. On the upside though, I got a phonecall from an agency and I've got an interview on Wednesday, so hopefully I won't be job hunting for much longer.
Job Hunting
I'm looking for a job today. I don't want to be but I have to. I don't mind working but I hate doing bad jobs and that's all that's on offer at the minute. My big hairy man-beast boyfreind is considering getting a job as Santa Claus this Christmas. If he was Santa I might even consider being Santa's little Helper again this year but y'know, it's a harder job than it seems. Parents are not real human beings around that time of year, they are like zombie robots. I guess it's how they deal with it all, the kid's whinging and wanting evrything. Anyway, I'm disgusted with myself. It's only September and I'M already talking about Christmas. The shops haven't even started yet.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
This is me new blog
Well, here I go. I was encouraged to start up my own blog a few months back and so here I am. Feels kinda strange writing to no one in particular but it helps that you can, to some extent, remain anonymous in cyber world.
I have a feeling that my blog will be very slow to start. I want to post pictures but don't have the technology or even the technological know how to do so yet. It may be a while before I'm able to do this.
Right then, that's my first post finished. I really had better get good at this cos otherwise it's more like a chore than a pleasure.
I have a feeling that my blog will be very slow to start. I want to post pictures but don't have the technology or even the technological know how to do so yet. It may be a while before I'm able to do this.
Right then, that's my first post finished. I really had better get good at this cos otherwise it's more like a chore than a pleasure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)