Grumpiness roolz ok

I wanted to share with you a book I'm reading, which I am (alarmingly) finding myself empathising with more and more with every turn of the page. It is called Grumpy Old Men and is a diary of irritation accumulated by one poor bad-tempered sod over the course of a year.

Everything in there annoys me too. I also think it's a crying shame they didn't ask my dad to contribute as he's been nadgy for two thirds of a century.

Anyhoo, here is a short except that made me snort with laughter in the middle of a District Line carriage this afternoon.

30 May
Heard a report from the Congo on the World Service this morning. The reporter was venturing out of the capital, Goma, in her car. 'It's too dangerous to venture far away from the city,' she said, 'so I turn the car around. To turn a whole nation around will be much harder.' What, turning the nation around is even harder than turning a car around? Extraordinary.

Your Monthly Cat

Bless the little bastard...

Exhaustion and other exciting descriptive words

I could probably sum up this post in three words, so I ought to, if only to prove that emo can be speedily summarised:

I'm bloody exhausted.

I do hate to ask if anyone was paying attention (well I don't, because I have a kinky enjoyment of knuckle rapping), but shame on you if you weren't. How do you keep up with Hollyoaks, for god's sake. Anyway! I've been doing this freelance song and dance for the best part of a month and I feel like the walking dead.

I can hear you all clamouring for front of house to hear about my current situation, I really can. It's a delightful little delusion and I will lynch the first person to ruin it. k? k. Anyway! I'm not going to oblige for two reasons:

1) I'm sworn to secrecy for reasons of inter-industry espionage
2) I feel very swanky saying that.

So this goes out to all you lovely people who've asked very genuine, very much appreciated questions about what I'm up to, which makes me smile a muchbit. The answer, in the most specific terms I'm allowed to manage, is: everything and nothing and no sleep!

But I do feel as if I'm steering right. And that makes me more happy than I can tell you.

Lollybloggings and the Grumbly Willock

It's finally here, the online story book you didn't know you were waiting for. A tale of love, high adventure and rainbow hairclips, starring what we're pretty sure will be coming soon to the sticker on a kid's lunchbox near you.

Yes, it's Lollybloggings and the Grumbly Willock, a tale in pictures created by myself and Laura. I've had precious little leisure time since wandering into the world of freelance and this, ladies and gents, is what I've been doing with it. Sensible? No. Worth it? Of course!

Let us know what you think, we're all for criticism. The Willock isn't though, he hates it.

Reaching the surface

Life gets away from you sometimes. You become a bad friend through lack of time management, by running and running without ever getting anywhere, by letting go of a dear friend's hand just when she needs you to hold on.

This artwork is Sysperia's impression of my avatar (and thus of me). For those who don't know the term, this is my virtual representation. I am privileged to have been included in her Most Beautiful collection, the idea of which is that beauty contests in Second Life are meaningless without including and evaluating a person's heart and mind alongside their (virtual) looks.

Avatars are soul-less creatures who tend to stare blankly into the middle distance, but in this image my eyes are deep and swimming, with all the weight of the world and the knowledge that is my burden.

I cannot make up for not having found enough time, I can't wish back the conversations we should have had, but I can do this one thing: tell everyone else what I already know.

As a daisy flourishes among thousands of blades of grass, so Sysperia Poppy rises above those around her - in every way. But especially within her art, and as a friend.

Syssy, I'm so sorry.

If anyone reading this would enjoy a window into their own soul, or even just to see or ask for some beautiful artwork with tough themes, please let me know or visit Syssy's gallery.

My daemon

I don't like this thing, WillowZ faffed at it and changed me into a furry sideburned cat thing and I was NOT happy, I like my snow leopard. Retribution was mine, however, as somebody has made hers into a ladybird.

So the rest of you now have 12 days to click buttons and make me miserable. If you make it anything but a snow leopard, I suggest you back away slowly -.-

In other animal-related news, there's a fox basking in the sun in my back garden. I have named him Neville, he is very cute, I opened my curtain to see him properly and he made an annoyed face and bit a flower.

Group who? Group me?

See that bloke there to the left, looking all talented and cool and professional? He is! How do I know? Well aside from being prepared to testify that he makes the best ever spicy meatball, gives the warmest hugs in London and - as mentioned before - has a steal-worthy CD collection, I am also now his groupie.

Yes!

This is Best Mate's boyfriend, for all the nans in the room: it is a strictly musically appreciative sentiment.

I spent this evening holed up in a little venue in Kingston called The Fighting Cocks, waiting for the marvellous Trickswitch to take the stage. Their support act was The Addons, a delicious old school indie band who gave me happy tummy feelings.

As for Trickswitch: consider every preconception I ever had poked with sticks onto a bonfire with elves and goblins celebrating their demise. 'My mate's band' - that's meant to mean a half-arsed attempt you turn up to because everyone else is going and then ignore, but clap dutifully at the end, surely?

Trickswitch are something truly special, and this from Fussy McMusicalFusspot. They have every ingredient to make it big, in spades - except recognition. And possibly confidence, I don't think they know how good they are - they've never been on our end to see how forcefully their energy hits you. And they don't have a clue how hard it makes your heart beat.

So go have a listen and see, because they're incredible, and as amazing live as any signed band I've ever seen.

The most beautiful song I've ever heard

I loved this song so much I wrote to him on myspace to ask where I could buy his EPs and he very graciously pointed me in the right direction (www.beardmuseum.com for the first one and Amazon for the new one, Pilotlights). He will also be playing in Soho on August 2nd - I've roped in Clone Emma and Best Mate, any other takers?

A little bit tiddly and full of chicken

Advance warning: if at any time during the reading of this post you wonder why I'm making no sense, please be assured it's not you. I'm a little bit merry and a muchbit amused after a night on the town with the fabulous Jo.

We've been promising to have a catch-up since we had a meeting about a magazine she helped me develop and ended up nattering for a very long time. Such was the situation this evening - we talked at speed for hours and there's so much left to say that I'm just going to need to make her come out for a repeat performance. Not a shame!

The highlight of our tour of Twickenham was the boozy ending, which of course involved guzzling junk food and loud laughing. KFC's late-night staff were rather taken with Jo, whose flirty attempts to get some extra mayonnaise earned her an amorous takeaway admirer.

As we chomped in a ladylike manner on our burgers, a bunch of revolting chavs wandered in and treated us to the insightful drunken commentary that only the drunk and chavvy can achieve. "You've got burgers," (yes, yes we have), "Can I have a chip?" (no, no you can't) and "Are you lesbians?" (presumably because they consider KFC an appropriate choice for date night).

As the chav who treated us to the final question cackled and ran off out the door, Jo uttered an immortal line: "Bring him back a minute *dramatic pause*....and I'll tell him about his face". Perfect delivery, perfect timing.

Oh what a beautiful day

Today I shopped and drank beer. Is that not a beautiful phrase, women everywhere?

It was my last chance to prance about town with Canimal before she goes back home to Israel, so Sneaky Sneakerson here left work at 2pm and spent the afternoon introducing her to the shopping heaven that is Oxford Street. I'm utterly inept at breaking rules, but a) this was a very special occasion and b) what are they gonna do, sack me?!

Now I don't really like shopping for myself, because I can't be doing with changing rooms, but I do love scouring the rails for someone else, especially someone who looks good in everything you put them in. We found any number of cute new tops for her and a pair of flipflops (poor thing turned up soaked from a sudden rainstorm and unable to enjoy a thing until we replaced her sodden footwear). I somehow managed to come home with a new wallet, shoes and umbrella, too.

And for anyone doubting Cani was put through her London paces: not only did she bear up perfectly under the strain of a rush hour Tube journey (giggling fit notwithstanding) and deal with numerous snotty sales clerks with aplomb, she also tucked into a steak pie and mashed potato for lunch and felt much improved for the experience.

As far as the beer part goes: after resting my poor feet for a couple of hours and losing to all and sundry at facebook scrabble, I spent a happy evening in the pub with Best Mate and her man, Anton (of CD thievery fame). Life right now is filled with exciting new people and places and experiences and the love and comfort of those I care about most. I have little to complain about, all in all <3