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Tuesday, December 13th, 2005
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I seem to be suffering from a case of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. My mother has had IBS for longer than I can remember, and I’ve always kind of humoured it. She gets worried about going to certain occasions, which gives her IBS. Let’s not be afraid of the graphics of this – it basically means she could shit herself at any time.
So the next time a big occasion comes around, even if she’s not nervous about it, she’s nervous that she might give herself a bout of IBS. Which, of course, gives her a bout of IBS. It’s pretty much shit central, and while that sounds fairly bearable in comparison to African famine and pending nuclear war, it really is pretty miserable in reality.
I can say that now, because it appears I have it.
About 6 months ago, I was involved in the tension-centred life that was my final exams. Dissertations to write, presentations to give, revising to do – it was all a little too much for me, and I ended up making myself more than a little ill. Two days before my exams started, I was in hospital.
This is nothing new for me. I’ve always gotten myself ill before big occasions. As a child, my parents had to keep visits to theme parks as a surprise in case I made myself puke with anticipation. And that had happened, before you think I was making it up.
I’ve been used to that, because it’s totally a mental thing. I get ill, but pull myself together in time for the big event, and feel fine once it’s all over.
It all seems to have gone a bit pear shaped now. After my exams, I flew to Spain for a week’s holiday, with the family and of course the other half. While I had only flown once before, I didn’t think I was nervous about it. In fact, it hadn’t even crossed my mind. The (early) morning of the flight, I felt awful. Arriving at the airport, I was pacing (a tactic of mine when feeling queasy) around, taking regular visits to the toilet thinking I was going to be sick.
I managed to pull through, but I was left puzzled as to why this had happened.
Now, in the middle of December, I feel like that regularly. And not when faced with big challenges, either. It seems every two or three days I get a bout of feeling incredibly sick, and it’s over the most menial of things. Visiting the Job Centre, saying goodbye to Paul after a weekend visit, or even having nothing to do all day. I thought this jobless period of my life would be one I would savour in comparison to the alcohol-fuelled stressful times of my latter day Uni experience. It is, however, pretty much hell.
I don’t remember what feeling well feels like, because since around late October, I’ve felt ill for at least some portion of the day. Now I don’t even need a reason – I’m simply worried I might feel ill, which of course makes me feel ill.
“Pull yourself together” is probably the reaction from most of you, and believe me, I’m trying. The problem is entirely a mental one, and if I really concentrate I can drag myself out of it, for an hour or so. But what scares me is there is no visible end. Because I’m not really ill, and there is no sight of a job or any way in which my situation is likely to change any time soon, I feel incredibly scared whenever I do feel ill because I don’t know when it is going to end.
My body is physically rejecting its current state, and is shutting down at the blink of an eye. I feel like crying at almost any time, and I can’t switch my brain off.
Does this sound familiar to anyone? Anyone at all?
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Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
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Monday, February 21st, 2005
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It makes you wonder why people go to University. I, of course, am a limited breed, who has the intelligence and wit to survive in this jungle. Other people are just dry. They have absolutely no ideas. No ideas, and a degree that is all about ideas.
"Design a creative brief around a fair-trade clothes label aimed at 20-40 year olds" they say. The mixed bunch of halfwits in my group come up with what can only be described as a predictable charity-esque bunch of ideas, with an assortment of different ethic minorities covered and rubbished, and plenty of "tsunami" moments.
Yes. To these guys, anything described as a "good cause" immediately translates as a load of Asians drowning. Must occupy the same part of their head, ya see.
I wanted to scream. But then again, my idea involved Kate Moss.. so what do I know?
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, February 8th, 2005
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I've been spending money like there is no tomorrow. My last semester, and any financial planning I had done pre Christmas is out the window. My latest payout came in the form of Tiesto's live DVD. It's pretty damn epic in places - goosepimple stuff.
Family back home is somewhat fucked, but the house here is working. Boilers firing. Washing machine spinning. A big shit is currently blocking the toilet on my side, however. Perhaps it's time I got my hands dirty. Deal with the shit.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, January 28th, 2005
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Ashamed. That's how I felt. I guess that's nothing new or revolutionary for anyone that has seen Fahrenheit 9/11. It's not as if it revealed anything that really shocked - it simply provided evidence for what all of us have thought or wanted to say out loud. Let me clarify: ashamed because I am in a state that effectively makes me powerless, and my views pointless. As Michael Moore posts his website at the end of the film in aid of action, my reaction is probably not what he intended. Perhaps then, I'm more ashamed of myself. I sat. I watched. I absorbed. I did nothing.
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Comments: Read 7 or Add Your Own.
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Saturday, December 25th, 2004
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I want to see Simon from Popworld get together with Jake from the Scissor Sisters.
A beautiful thing.
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Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
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Monday, November 22nd, 2004
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Ultimate Kylie is out today. The album that spans her 9 studio albums and 3 different record companies, but also manages to miss out some of her best hits (Some Kind of Bliss, Finer Feelings, German Bold Italic to name some of my favourites). The DVD does no better, featuring an edited version of the Can't Get You Out of My Head video, which cuts out the few delicious seconds at the beginning of the song featuring Kylie mouthing in the black and yellow car.
Yes, thats right.. they fucked up probably the most iconic pop video of all time.
Like the PWL equivilant 2 years ago, the Especially For You video is heavily bleached and barely watchable (something which didn't afflict the Australian Greatest Hits package in 1998), and the sleave on both features what is basically a fact file of chart positions both here and in Australia. Not reasons why she's had so much success, or what effect Kylie's career has had on pop music as an entity.
Apart from the songs and videos themselves, it's all a bit rubbish. A bit rushed-in-time-for-Christmas.
But I bought it. I ploughed my soul into handing over my Switch card in HMV. I purchased it with love, and I guess it's true what my lecturer said the other day - I'm a filthy capitalist.
On the plus side however, the new single I Believe In You co written by Kylie with Jake Shears and Babydaddy of the Scissor Sisters (also featured on the album), and the follow up Giving You Up are both up there with her best tracks. A high accolade indeed. Perhaps it was right to buy it then, if just for these 6 minutes of pop perfection.
Just as well I'm a capitalist, really.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, September 16th, 2004
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, September 15th, 2004
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When those police lights were reflecting on his brow, I could have cried.
For any American readers I have, you probably saw the episode of Six Feet Under I'm talking about years ago. The episode where David gets heisted by the short guy from St. George in Bemuda. Or so he claims.
Heh, I actually know someone from St. George in Bemuda.
Anyway, as I said to Paul, Hollywood could learn a lot from that episode. Tense and emotional like a rollercoaster. What a cliche that line is, but it has never rung more true.
And the brilliant part is, almost up until the end, David still finds this man attractive. He still lusts after him. Brilliant. That's what made it real.
He liked the risk element. Risky cute guy.
I've always looked forward to the notion of love, and wanted to be in love. I never thought it would make me vulnerable though. That's a testament to how naive I was. Love makes you vulnerable and weak. Suddenly every emotion you have, either high or low, is almost entirely dependent on your other half. By definition, that is weak.
It's also harder to bear when there is a physical geographical distance.
When together, the tables are turned. I'm almost fucking unstoppable when he is around. My Mum is on HRT. She's feisty. She has nothing on me. It's a stainless steel binded relationship, and I fucking love him.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Sunday, September 12th, 2004
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I finished the 4th CD I've burned for the house. Back at Uni, we are sans a television in the kitchen. The reception is so bad up there, and the door to the living room is almost always open anyway.
But, these CDs will be washing up CDs. Music to clean by. A collection of all the music files I've gathered since 2000, basically.
"Young Girl".. now that's a good song. Would never be allowed these days, would it? Paedophilic-Pop rules, if you ask me.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Thursday, September 9th, 2004
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There are only 4 things I can do in the next 9 days.
1. Eat very little.
2. Keep up my exercise routine.
3. Know that Paul loves me.
4. Cry a bit.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Two un-released Kylie tracks have been leaked onto the internet. "My Image Unlimited" and "I'm Just Here For the Music" were recorded during the Body Language sessions, but never made it to the final cut, or any subsequant releases.
Speculation suggests that perhaps Parlophone have leaked them in anticipation of her denied Greatest Hits package. The same speculation also sites the apparent personal lyrics of the former as the reason for it being unreleased.
At this moment, I've only heard "My Image Unlimited". Fine and polished it is. Perhaps Kylie wanted to hold it back. Or lose it completely.
Lose it. I am. I weighed myself tonight.
I'm 12 stone, 8lbs. Thats heavier than I've ever been.
I knew I'd be near 13 stone, and thats why I'd not weighed myself. I didn't want to know. But I had to watch that fucking BBC show didn't I, about weightloss. It actually made me feel better. A load of clearly-fatter-than-me people on television, spouting fat out of their mouths as they admit that they get take-aways 5 times a week.
I don't do that. I eat a lot, but I don't eat junk food. It made me feel better. I was curious. We have digital scales. I'm digitally overweight.
Officially overweight. I'm overweight by a stone. Overweight.
Overweight with 10 days before I go back to Uni. The one place I really can't afford to be overweight. Where I'm on show. Where I need to feel confident. I can't be confident and fat. I won't want to leave my room.
I can feel the weight on me now. In reality I'm a bit bloated after two huge cups of tea, but I feel huge. I feel sweaty, and huge. As if the red pussy masses on my nose at the moment weren't confidence sapping enough.
And don't anybody tell me that I'm not fat, or that I can be happy this way, or any bollocks about your ideal weight having nothing to do with any weight charts or such. I'm NOT happy.
I don't want any tips on losing weight either. I already have a stringent exercise plan which I follow. I just need to stop eating. Food will be the death of me. And if not food, my lack of confidence. How Paul finds me attractive I don't know.
I need to expel the weight. I need to expel the negativity. I need to expel more than a stone.
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Comments: Read 11 or Add Your Own.
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Monday, August 30th, 2004
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And what does one have to show for 5 odd years as a regular on the ill-fated 4Later forum? Not much to be honest.
Time was, I believe I was quite well respected in those parts. Now I find myself pissing people off, being a general annoyance, and being strangely distant from people who I used to once chat to on an hourly basis.
Not all, it has to be said.
The same thing has happened with my friends at home.
"She knows you don't need her anymore." said my mother, in reference to Clare, who was my best friend throughout the last 6 years. "You'll always be friends. You'll always know each other. But you won't be the same friends."
She's right. Clare's changed, and of course, as this diary is a testament to, so have I. Gladly. And I have some of the best and dearest friends on earth at University. Sometimes they piss me off, but I do genuinely love all of my housemates. It's just the nature of things when you live with people, that you're going to tread on each other's toes at some point.
Gaydam, someone who I met just last year, but whose boundless youth and good honest nature never ceases to grab my attention. Alex, who is as nice as apple pie and custard, and Stacey - the shining jewel in my friendship crown. She's the kinda girl every boy's mum would like them to end up with. A pretty much spot on perfect girl, to be honest.
And just like Paul, I surround myself with these people. Moments alone (which I used to survive on) are few and far between at University. For the most part, I welcome this. I welcome it all.
Ahh well. Bye bye past.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Sunday, August 29th, 2004
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5. Natasha Beddingfield - "These Words"
4. Motorcycle - "As the Rush Comes" (Above & Beyond Dynaglide Remix)
3. Natasha Beddingfield - "These Words"
2. KC & the Sunshine Band - "Give It Up"
1. Natasha Beddingfield - "These Words"
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Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
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Saturday, August 28th, 2004
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Urbania. My God, what a film. What a film, what a film, what a film.
I'll admit, I purchased it purely because the gorgeously furry Dan Futterman (from Judging Amy, which I watch religiously) is in it, but it turned out to be a corker.
Now, this is a film that intellectuals will claim to love. They won't know why, but they will proclaim their affection for it as a token of their.. intelligence. Yes.
Basically, it's a story of emotion, cut up into little pieces. Glimpses are seen, and snapshots are heard, and the jigsaw isn't put together until the last 5 minutes. And then you'll cry. That's why it's a good film, intellectuals. Because a fairly basic story is crafted to keep you guessing.
Oh, and the acting is damn good also. hmv.co.uk have copies a-plenty of it, so I suggest you buy.
I will watch that again. Probably endlessly. I constantly surround myself with pieces of.. well, me. I said to Paul earlier this week, my room at University looks like someone has squeezed my brain and it's burst all over the walls. It's a modern day womb for the scared 22 year old that writes for you now.
And Paul completes all of that. I look up to him so much, because he's everything I'd love to be. Everybody loves Paul. As my Mum said in an e mail to his, I can't imagine anyone not getting on with him.
So I'll snuggle back into him when he hugs me, because in that moment I'm as safe as I could ever be.
(Unlike Urbania. Oops.. SPOILER!)
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Saturday, August 7th, 2004
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She came out, crying and shaking, a woman exposed. All she could say was "Thank you". Scream, in fact, screaming her thanks to the people who made a truly marvelous thing happen tonight.
They made a woman feel like exactly that: a woman. I cried my eyes out.
Nope, it wasn't the sympathy vote. Nope, it wasn't because she was a "lip-gloss queen" or fantastically funny. It was because Nadia was the only person in the house who really needed to win. Who it meant something. She needed to win, because she needed to know that she was accepted. That she could live life, knowing that people will love or hate her because of her - not because of her past.
Well done Channel 4. That was the most emotionally superb piece of television in British history. And, well done Nadia.
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Comments: Read 22 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, August 5th, 2004
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Wednesday, August 4th, 2004
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Yes, it's a reality. Shenmue is back, in some form. Good to see that Sega never give up. That is all.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Things change.
So Electronic Arts have bought Criterion. For those of you not up to speed with the games industry, Electronic Arts is the world's number one publisher of computer and console software. Far ahead of any of their competitors, they are the only publisher to continue to make streaming large profits year-on-year throughout the current generation of consoles.
Criterion are a british based development company, whose two biggest achievements to date have been the arcade-driving style Burnout series, and the creation of probably the world's current number 1 middleware (thanks to pauly) tool, RenderWare.
RenderWare is in use in around 30% of all the games currently in development, worldwide.
So, in short, as well as obtaining another top selling franchise, EA now own the rights to RenderWare. Some of the world's top selling games of the last few years (GTA: Vice City, Sonic Heroes to name a couple) have used RenderWare, and if the developers of these titles choose to use it again, EA is going to get a financial slice of the action.
The problem is, as well as churning out the world's top sellers, it's no secret to most 'gamers' that the majority of Electronic Art's titles tend to be nothing short of bland. Sure, they're all polished enough, but they're never anything special.
Inventive and fresh games are rarely signed up by publishers like EA, or by their competitors as a result, because no-one can afford to take a risk on the mass-market gamer. Brilliant titles have come and gone in recent years, selling no more than the average bargain basement single. Publisher's have learnt a lesson: only the tried and tested sells.
Developers are dying. And this, a time where the gaming industry sales wise is soaring to unprecedented heights. It's madness, but every year UK developers across the country are shutting their doors. It can also be said that new developers pop up all the time too. But how long will they stay afloat? Do they even get a chance? Not if they don't come up with a Splinter Cell beater, they don't.
So expect more Grand Theft Auto clones. Expect more sports titles. Expect plenty more vietnam/WWII shooters, and car-modding-essex-boy racers. Expect Electronic Arts domination.
Sure, the majority of these titles won't be awful, but they'll be far short of anything original too. EA may well be, in the end, biting the hand that feeds them.
"Where the hardcore go, the softcore eventually follow." - Edge.
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Things do change, though. They have to.. such is life.
The night before last, I went to a friendly match at Ipswich Town. It was a testimonial match for Dale Roberts, a former Ipswich player from Newcastle, who died of cancer. Fittingly, the match was against Newcastle United, and equally fittingly all of the money went to cancer charities.
I was impressed with Portman Road. Now a 30,000 all seater stadium, it is almost twice as big as when I visited it 6 years ago. It's clean, it's fresh. It's a club that wants to go somewhere.
4 years ago, Ipswich Town were in the Premiership. After being relegated a few seasons ago, they now sit comfortably in "The Championship" (formally Division One) - yet the fans are as happy, welcoming, and passionate as ever. I was impressed. Even more so when they scraped a victory over what was a Newcastle side fully ladened with all of it's stars.
I sat, in my tight Ipswich away shirt, feeling engrossed by the match before me, but painfully aware of myself. Of my body. Of how I looked.
Confidence still regularly saps away from me to this day, but it always returns with a rush when Paul is around.
He may not know it, for I do moan, but his presence changes everything. Knowing he truly wants me, is amazing.
I've never met such a decent and honest person. He can't lie, and he seems to do everything to make me happy when he's around.
Things change, and I'm glad he's changed me.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, July 21st, 2004
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It isn't about being physical. It isn't about being ignorant.
It's about using someone's weaknesses to make them feel small. To crunch them up into a ball, lock them in a cage, and make them face every fear they have day upon day. Day upon day.
I had 3 or so years of that at high school. It was never physical; that wouldn't have been a problem. It was about waiting till I was alone. Intimidating me. Scaring me. Killing me, basically.
I hate the wimp that was inside me then - the same one I keep under lock and key till this very day, but escapes every now and again. I hate how pathetic I became.
So I say, go Nadia. You made me remember, so now let's help you to forget.
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Comments: Read 10 or Add Your Own.
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