missprint

It's rather early for me to be posting, I know. Well, frankly, considering it's a Sunday, it's early for me to be up. Alas, what with the demise of Popworld, there is nothing for me to stay in bed for.

My stupid Amazon DVD rental list sent me all the DVDs from the bottom of my list. I don't really have the time to watch them and I was hoping that they would send the films that I had handpicked for my parents, so that my monthly allowance wouldn't go to waste. I've been meaning to send them back but I don't really want to send them back without watching them. So last night, I decided to have a little late-night film festival (Now Showing: Bottle Rocket, Election and Garden State) and it was all going well until I fell asleep about 15 minutes into Bottle Rocket.

Another late-night disaster: after I got off the phone with Sarah last night, I realised that it was a Saturday night and that Sainsbury's wasn't open for 24 hours. So that left me with no dinner and my heart set on hummus. Armed with a can of chick peas and a hand-blender, I thought that this dilemma could be easily resolved with a little cunning and determination. I found a jar of tahini in my cupboard from my cous-cous phase last year but on opening it, I thought it was better to just forego the tahini and soldier on with my trusty comrades, lemon juice and olive oil. So, the chick peas went into the hand blender and I was a little worried when it just looked like mushy chick peas. I reasoned that the lemon juice and olive oil would turn the humble chick pea into the ambrosia that I was seeking. A-ha, perfect, it looks exactly like hummus, granted, not Sainsbury's hummus, more like Asda hummus but hummus all the same. "I'll just have a little taste....oh my god, I think I'm going to be sick." Gentle readers, the moral of the story is to stock up on food before the supermarket closes and to leave the chick pea be.

And with those words of wisdom, I take my leave of you gentle readers (until I get bored again.) Happy Sunday.

Well, Doctor Who season 2 just keeps getting better and better doesn't it? I imagine old-school fans were rather pleased to see the return of Sarah Jane Smith (Elizabeth Sladen) but to a newbie like myself, it was every bit as enjoyable seeing the claws-out tension between Rose and Sarah-Jane simmering away through the first half of the episode which only served the highlight the 'shipper elements of the resurrected Doctor Who. Once again gentle readers, I presented to you my (kind of) regular dissection of tonight's episode in gushy note form:

- I imagine that I'm not alone in this but I do love the Doctor in his emo-glasses. Rreow. My reaction to the opening teaser scene can be succinctly encapsulated in the Doctor and Sarah Jane's first exchange: "Hello." "I should think so!"
- Tonight has confirmed what I have suspected for a while: dinner ladies are inherently evil. Anyone who forces beetroot, custard and toxic oil on you is definately to be avoided.
- Am I the only one who was left disappointed at the end of the episode because I was eagerly awaiting Mickey's I-told-you-so-dance? (Perhaps a dance to rival Numfar's Dance of Joy?* I know I said I would stop with the Whedonverse comparisons but I think considering tonight's guest star, I can let myself off the hook.)
- Which leads us neatly into this: Anthony. Stewart. Head. (!!)
- Was I the only one who found David Tennant and Anthony Stewart Head's showdown totally arousing entertaining?
- Oh Micky you're so fine... Hurrah, Mickey's back! The much maligned Mickey, poor Mickey. I think the best lines of the night went to him: "...I'm the tin dog!" and "Go sit at the back of the class with the safety scissors and glitter."
- Were the vacuum-packed rats a reference to Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy along with the hive brain idea? Or am I geekily overreaching?
- I spy... more portents of tragedy for the end of the series. If last week's Anvils of Doom from Queen Victoria wasn't enough, Mr. Finch's observation that the Time Lords were "peaceful to the point of indolence" and that they were terrified of change and chaos, yet this Doctor is different.
- The Doctor stroking his Tardis? Well, as he said, being a Time Lord is awfully lonely.
- Micky, Rose and The Doctor all together in the Tardis, I am rubbing my hands together with glee as I type.

All in all, an excellent episode, better than the plot-light, characterisation heavy opening episode of this season but perhaps not as tightly plotted as last week. Compelling viewing all the same and the CGI-morphs this week were ace.

In other news: I was so bored at work today, I was even nice to the kids. I have discovered that I am unbeatable at Connect 4.

I also broke my self imposed no-drinking resolution yesterday. I ended up at the EDT last night after work for leaving drinks for a colleague. I obviously have no will-power at all. I think perhaps I overreacted a little after last Thursday, I shall just have to learn how to take my drink or just be more sensible. I even left relatively early because I intended to go home and do some more writing (rather optimistic, I ended up spending the rest of my evening on the phone, writing emails and watching half of Breaking the Waves.) Walking to my bus-stop I was taken over by a fit of pique that seems to overcome me whenever I've been drinking and I decided to walk all the way home from Dulwich to Peckham. I think drink takes the edge off the fear of being stabbed up by any passing electro girls.

When I got home, I had post waiting for me. As much as I love the Internet, I do quite miss the good old days of postal correspondance. This generation won't have the same thrill of getting a badly written letter from a pen-pal in Brazil. I am currently waging a one-woman effort to bring back the art of letter writing. Anyway, nothing as exciting as a letter (grumble, grumble) but it was the Mania album sampler that I had bought off eBay which is almost as exciting.



Mania in 5 easy to digest factlets:

- Mania were a girl-duo who were less Daphne & Celeste and more like a duo of poppier Siobhan Donaghys/Sugababes Mark I.
- Mania were Giselle Sommerville and Niara Scarlett who met whilst writing for pop-genii, Xenomania
- Their album was spectacularly titled Do You Know Your Daughter's On The Roof?
- Unfortunately, they seem to have sunk into the Pop Quagmire and some of their stuff has been covered by the T4 prock (that's "pop/rock" for the uninitiated to my imagination) band, Frank.
- Their debut and in fact, only, single Looking For A Place is possibly the best song ever that includes whistling. **

Anyway, it is late and I haven't had anything to eat apart from Haribo today. I have developed an insatiable craving for hummus and am currently contemplating whether to make a late-night dash to Sainsbury's. Although I am already in my pajamas.***

*For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of watching Numfar's Dance of Joy, then settle down for the best 1 minute and 42 seconds of your televisual viewing life:

** All Time Top Five Songs That Have Whistling In Them // "Looking For A Place", Mania; "Love Generation", Bob Sinclar feat. Gary Pine; "Always Look On The Bright Side of Life" Eric Idle; "Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay", Otis Redding and "Walk Like An Egyptian", The Bangles

*** Gold star to the person who gets the reference. No googling otherwise you shall face my wrath which is akin to the heat of a thousand burning suns.

It seems as though MTV are having a little trouble with finding Nadia Almaida's Number 1 Fan. Little puzzle for you, put these words in order: barrel the scraping.

Rather predictably, I didn't end up doing any work last night and instead crawled into bed, read a bit of Forty Stories and then promptly fell asleep. I can always tell when I'm tired or overworked because when I wake up in the morning, I find random objects in my bed. This morning it was a green highlighter and yesterday's copy of The Guardian.

I was worrying a little too much over my tutorial with my supervisor I think. She didn't shout at me at all for only having my dissertation half done (in fact, no mention was made of it). She seemed to think that I had it all under control (err...) and she is currently reading over my first 5000 words. I've just realised that I didn't take out the embarassing extended Wizard of Oz metaphor. Oh dear god. I don't know how I'm going to look her in the eye when I've written a sentance as bad as this: "By the time “Notes From The Front Line” was written in 1983, the approach had been refined somewhat and the guerilla tactics on display in earlier work such as The Passion of New Eve (1977) had paved a yellow-brick road to the fairy-tale kingdom for Carter." Oh just shoot me now.

In cheerier news, Lily Allen's new video for LDN has been put up on her MySpace. LDN seems to have been remixed for the release, it sounds more polished and the calypso horn sample sounds cleaner. I must confess, not in a snobby I-liked-her-better-before-she-sold-out way, that I prefer what I imagine is the demo version that is on her MySpace. Anyway, it is still poised to be my summer anthem and I imagine that she will do extremely well. Watch her video here (Windows Media Player) and here (RealPlayer).

Also in LilyWatch: it says on her MySpace that her album is out in July 2006 and LDN was put on the Radio 1 playlist last week, so I think the single will be out soon. There are also pictures from her Vogue photoshoot on her MySpace, so I think she'll be appearing in it next month. Hoorah.

So, today I spent half an hour on the phone to Wanadoo because my broadband connection had cut out for about 3 hours (luckily, I was asleep for 2 of those hours, otherwise I would have probably been in a rather high state of distress.) After asking for my details (and asking if I could be called by my middle name because he couldn't pronounce my first name), the nice Geordie man who was dealing with my enquiry had to put me on hold for 10 minutes because his computer crashed. This hell was only compounded by the fact that the hold music that Wanadoo uses is a musak version of David Bowie's Heroes. Anyway, after getting me to unplug and reset my Livebox and reset my ADSL configuration, he was stumped. By the way, prospective Wanadoo broadband Mac users, don't believe what the Wanadoo website says about no technical support for Mac users because they do provide tech support for us. If you are thinking of taking up the Wanadoo wireless broadband package, then you will need to print this out in order to install the Livebox, as the instructions and installation CD are strictly Windows only. Anyway, the end to this rather dull story, is that I was on the phone for half an hour only to be told that the fault lay with BT, as they had been swamped with calls all day from the London area. As I was pondering how I was going to cope without t'Internet for the evening, my Livebox started blink-blink-blinking away and my life as I know it (sadly) was restored.

A survey stolen from Stuart:

Write fifteen statements, all intended to different people and never tell anyone which is meant for whom.

One // I know that there's an age gap between us and that perhaps we're unlikely friends but I'm so glad I've met you. Up until then, I was feeling pretty lonely this year in the Big Smoke because most of my friends are scattered around the country but you've proved a very dear partner-in-crime.
Two // I am so proud of you for everything you've achieved this year. Sometimes you don't have faith in yourself and I know that you are so much more capable that you believe yourself to be but it's okay because I have more than enough confidence in you.
Three // You piss me off and make me laugh uproariously in equal measures. I couldn't live with you, you'd drive me crazy. But as far as late-night phone conversations and Friday nights in go, you're definately All Time Top Five material.
Four // I feel like I've really drifted apart from you this year. You are still definately the mysterious one and I fear that this will always be the case but you'll never be out of the loop.
Five // I go through phases of thinking about you sometimes. What would you say if you knew that I had a Belle & Sebastian CD in my collection now?
Six // It's odd how just as I was thinking about you, you showed up. I'm sorry for the way I left things, you deserved much better but to be honest, you were driving me crazy and I'm glad that things ended.
Seven // I can't figure out whether you hate me or you're just quiet. I shouldn't really care.
Eight // I can't believe I had a crush on you.
Nine // I'm sorry I'm not a better friend to you. I have no excuse really.
Ten // Why is it that I can express my feeling so easily to everybody else but not to you? I don't say it, but I do.
Eleven // I wish I could make things better for you and sometimes I feel like we've drifted apart because we don't seem to laugh the way we used to. And then, sometimes we do. Your kindness and friendship is never unappreciated.
Twelve // I haven't told anyone, but I think you're kinda cute. You remind me of Alex Kapranos.
Thirteen // We always make promises to keep in touch but we never do. But you understand because you're in the same position as me.
Fourteen // I'm sorry that we lost contact but it was kind of too full-on.
Fifteen // We don't have much in common and it took us a while to find a way of getting along but I'm glad that we did.

That was kind of liberating but terrifying at the same time.

More survey fun. This is based on a feature on Jo Whiley's show a couple of weeks ago and I've been meaning to do it for a while now. Imagine that a film is made of your life and choose a track for each type of scenario as listed below:

Soundtrack To Our Lives

Opening Credits // It's My Life - No Doubt
Waking Up // Fill My Little World - The Feeling
Average Day // Overload - Sugababes
First Date // Don't Get Me Wrong - The Pretenders
Falling In Love // Lovestruck - Will Young
Love Scene // The Real Thing (Wendy & Lisa Flow Jam Mix) - Gwen Stefani
Fight Scene // With Or Without You - U2
Breaking Up // Nothing Good About This Goodbye - Rachel Stevens
Getting Back Together // I Get The Sweetest Feeling - Jackie Wilson (shamelessly pilfered from High Fidelity, I know)
Secret Love // My Favourite Mistake [Live] - Sheryl Crow
Life's Okay // LDN - Lily Allen
Mental Breakdown // Move Any Mountain - Sophie Ellis-Bextor
Driving // Learn To Fly - Foo Fighters
Learning A Lesson // I Don't Like Mondays - Tori Amos
Deep Thought // Everything's Not Lost - Coldplay
Flashback // Again - Faith Evans
Partying // Love Machine - Girls Aloud
Happy Dance // Got To Be Real - Cheryl Lynn
Long Night Along // Song For The Leftovers - A Camp
Death Scene // In My Life - The Beatles
Closing Credits// To The End - Blur

Hmm, time for dinner I think. Well, actually it's very late to be having dinner but what with my screwed up body clock, I'm gonna be up for hours. Anyway, let me know your selections for the Soundtrack To Our Lives. Pip pip.

I went to see Confetti tonight in a free preview screening. I'm not sure that I'd recommend it, I'm definately glad that I didn't pay to see it. I think the Empire review sums it up pretty well: "Apparently, having established the concept and situations, Isitt had the cast improvise all the dialogue; now we know why Mike Leigh improvises before shooting but has a script down cold when the cameras actually roll. The actors riffing here are funny up to a point; their body language and expressions are more eloquent than the dialogue." Anyway, if you're not averse to watching something light and frothy and don't mind seeing rather more of Peep Show's Robert Webb (Jeremy) and Oliva Coleman (Sophie), then it's not an entirely unpleasant way of spending two hours. Also, if you are a fan of the adorable Playdoh-faced Martin Freeman, then it's worth it just to see him participate in some Fred Astaire-esque dancing. I must confess that myself and Lindsey weren't entirely devoting our full attention to the first 15 minutes of the film as we were both ravenous and intent on ripping into the packet of yum yums that we had acquired at Tesco.

Today's All Time Top Five is inspired by Confetti and is therefore the...

All Time Top Five...Wedding Songs



Ah, the wedding song, the terrain of Diane Warren and Westlife ballads. What better way of celebrating your joyous union with a rousing chorus of Wind Beneath Your Wings? Like most girls, I've thought and planned my wedding in my head (despite the fact that I'm not even sure whether I want to get married. I suspect, it's the prospect of a nice frock and cake that appeals to me more...) Anyway, should I ever get married, I am determined to have a credible first dance song and whilst the chanson du choix has changed many times over the years (much as my funeral song has), there are a few at present that I think would be choices that are appropriate for the occasion (I have heard tales from friends who have attended weddings with horrendous choices, e.g. You Sexy Thing), that are romantic without being trite and syrupy and most of all, cool.

One // Gwen Stefani The Real Thing (Wendy & Lisa Flow Jam Mix)
A vastly underrated gem from Gwen's kalaidoscopic debut album, Love. Angel. Music. Baby. This is the remix by Prince's sometime protegees, Wendy and Lisa which can be found on the Special Edition of the album. The original is pure 1980s sugar-coated pop but the remix is a much warmer and dreamy affair. Imagine Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time mixed with a sparse backing track of an organ and multitracked vocals. This Gwen at her most swoony, even more so than the eternally summery Cool: "You're a salty water ocean wave / You knock me down, you kiss my face / I know the storms will always come / But I still love to have you around."

Two // Ella Fitzgerald Someone To Watch Over Me
I feel that you can't go wrong, as far as first dances are concerned, with a classic and I'm sure that this particular track is frequently employed as a first dance song. The lyrics are certainly fitting: "I'd like to add his initial to my monogram." I can't resist some good old fashioned yearning in ballads and Ella's voice just breaks my heart.

Three // Sugababes Breathe Easy
What would my All Time Top Fives be without a girl group in them? Anyway, this track is very nearly my favourite Sugababes track (I find it impossibe to choose just one) and it features just the girls and an acoustic guitar and it's gorgeous. I think that this track is rather apt for a wedding as it hits just the right tone of hopefulness for the future: "We talk about the places that we intend to be / But if I were there, would you be you and baby would I be me? / I don't want to be somewhere and realise this feeling's gone / I'm lost in these tenses / Confused in my senses / Tomorrow is taking too long."

Four // Al Green Let's Stay Together
A classic and a long-time favourite of mine, the Reverend Al Green. Neither time nor overuse in subpar romantic comedies (read: the *nsync vehicle, On The Line) has eroded the Reverend's appeal and this is definately his finest moment. Once again, fitting lyrics for a newly married couple, almost echoing the wedding vows: "Let's stay together / Loving you whether, whether / Times are good or bad, happy or sad." (Considering current divorce rates, this should be a mantra for newly-married couples.)

Five // John Paul Young Love Is In The Air
Okay, I know that the criteria for this list stipulated that the songs should be cool but unfortunately, it's my list and my rules and I shall break them as I see fit. As we all know, I am definately not cool and my heart truly lies with stuff like this. Yes, I know, it's terribly cheesy, right from the bontempi keyboard introduction to the key change at the end but I just really love how unashamedly uplifting and joyous this track is and in my mind, there is no song that is more made for weddings that this song. All together now..."Love is in the air / Everywhere I look around / Love is in the air / Every sight and every sound."

Other songs which were up for consideration were: "All Time Love", Will Young, "There Is No Greater Love", Amy Winehouse, "Nobody Does It Better" Radiohead (should they ever decide to record it properly), "Sweetest Thing", U2, "I'm Glad You're Mine", Siobhan Donaghy, "Into My Arms", Nick Cave, "Crazy For You", Madonna and "Cheek To Cheek", Frank Sinatra.

Anyway, I must take my leave to cram in some more writing as I have a meeting with my dissertation supervisor tomorrow and am terrified. (Although, obviously not terrified enough to stop me from swanning off to free Heat screenings. Sigh.)

My dear readers, I have a confession to make to you. I'm not proud of what I've done and I shall try my best to ensure it doesn't happen again.

I had a screaming match in a supermarket car park today.

I know, I know, I'm far too ladylike to submit to such base activities (even with the events of last Thursday...) but the red mist descended over my eyes and I realised that it was my duty to just destroy the haggard douche-bag that launched a screaming fit on me. I mean, living in Peckham, I meet my share of crazies. Well, it's more like three people's share. Anyway, generally they're harmless and whilst not exactly 'eccentric' they tend to err more on the side of 'stalker for a couple of streets'. But this woman was just a crazy bitch. That is actually the official term for such organisms. They're the kind of people that think that the world owes them one and still have an attitude problem about, well, practically anything you could name. I cannot stress enough how unpleasant this hag was.

Anyway, I jumped in at the deep end of the story without even dipping my toe into the water. I was attempting to squeeze my car into a rather tight yet prime parking spot at Morrison's. Meg had gotten out of the car first to get some cash and I was just getting my things together. I got out of the car and was about to open the boot to offload all my university crap when the woman in the midlife-crisis-mobile on my right rolled down her window and unleashed a tirade on me about how I had slammed my door into hers when I had opened my car door. Now, being the well-mannered girl that I am, I usually notice if I bang my door into the next car and if I had, it cannot have been that hard, not enough to incur any kind of damage to the hunk of metal and red paint that this woman obviously uses to prop up her ego. Usually, I would apologise profusely and that would be that but seeing as she was so hostile, I apologised in the most austere manner possible and carried on about my business. At this point, the hag jumps out of her car and scurries over to inspect any 'damage'. Cue more shouting about a non-existent scratch on the rubber stripe along the car door. It is at this point where I lose the small scrap of composure and patience I have and start shouting at this old fishwife that I had already apologised and if she had any grace she would have left it at that. I had apologised and I was sorry but if you are going to park in such a crappy way then these things happen.

I terminated the conversation with a loud "BITCH" and walked away.

I swear to god, when I came back half an hour later, I noticed a scratch on my car that I have never seen before. The crazy bitch had keyed my car! It's not a very big scratch, it's about 3 inches and I'm not really that fussed. I'm really more angry that I didn't manage to hurl more insults at the hag.


Anyway, that's more than enough time devoted to that hag. I've had more good things happen today than bad. The only other bad thing to happen today was that I was unfortunate enough to have sat through the car crash that is The Family Stone. If you're looking for a light, easy romantic comedy, look somewhere else. Granted, it's not as bad as the excreable Must Love Dogs (oh John Cusack, where did it all go wrong??), I actually managed to make it all the way through The Family Stone rather than the 20 minutes of Must Love Dogs which felt like an eternity. I have no idea how such a great cast agreed to such a script which leads me to the conclusion that perhaps the film got butchered during the editing process but the film was so awful, I find it hard to believe that it could have been decent at any point. First off, Sarah Jessica Parker, what were you thinking in taking a role where you play the most unlikable lead character ever (even more so that Julia Roberts's character in Runaway Bride). How are you paying for your Marc Jacobs wardrobe? Let's face it, looking at Matthew Broderick's last couple of films, we can assume that he is definately not the breadwinner of the Parker-Broderick household. So, why on earth would you choose a film in which you play an uptight character whose behaviour borders on autistic when everyone knows you should be trading on your pixie-like charms? Don't even get me started on Luke Wilson's involvement in this film.

Today's yay moments:

- When I went out on Thursday night, I managed to break my favourite earrings by dropping them on the floor. I haven't ever seen them on eBay but when I had a look on Friday, there they were. I decided it was fate and that I would have to secure them. It was a close call but I came out triumphant in this particular battle. Hurrah!
- Today was my penultimate lecture...ever. Hurrah!
- I got to wear my new red polka dot shoes today and in the parlance of the kids, I was rocking the vintage Minnie Mouse vibe. Hurrah!
- Due to our campaigning, my class managed to get our Postmodern Writing deadline shifted five days. Hurrah!
- I spent the evening with Meg today as she's heading back to university at the end of this week and sadly won't be back before I go off to Eastern Europe. We just lazed around eating chicken caeser salad and watching Kirstie & Phil's Where Best To Invest. Sadly, found that I still rather fancied Phil, despite his receeding hairline and speech impediment. She also brought me a belated Christmas present, My So-Called Life on DVD as I never watched it at the time. Hurrah!

I was rather dismayed to discover that out of all the London boroughs, the place that Kirstie and Phil deemed to be the best area for investment was...



Elephant & Castle. Kirstie and Phil have obviously never set foot in Elephant & Castle. They've never been subjected to the eyesore of the bright-red Elephant & Castle shopping centre. They never had to endure Christmas trips to the Coronet cinema which had a severe rat infestation problem. The only redeeming feature of Elephant & Castle...no, no wait, there isn't one.*

Answers for yesterday's Pop Quiz:

One // "Ain't no headlights on the road tonight / Ain't nobody here to make it right / 'Cos we couldn't seem to find a way for love to stay / If you had another night to give / I would have another night to live"
Atomic Kitten // Last Goodbye
Two // "I know a girl from a lonely street / Cold as ice-cream but still as sweet"
Blondie // Sunday Girl
Three // "What's my view? / How am I supposed to know? / Write a review / Well, how objective can I be?"
Maximo Park // Apply Some Pressure
Four // "She's got a boyfriend / He drives me round the bend / 'Cos he's twenty-three / He's in the marines / He'd kill me"
McFly // Obviously
Five // "Baby take me high upon a hillside / High up where the stallion meets the sun"
Take That // Could It Be Magic?
Six // "Last night Jackie Chan came around / I played pool with him and we hung out / Mr Miyagi and the X-Men called in for a while as well"
Ash // Kung Fu
Seven // "So much for your highbrow Marxist ways / Just use me up and then you walk away"
White Town or Tyler James // Your Woman
Eight // "Running just as fast as we can / Holding onto one another's hands / Trying to get away into the night / And then you put your arms around me and then we tumble to the ground"
Tiffany // I Think We're Alone Now
Nine // "Nina's in the bathroom / She said, 'time to go now' / But leaving, it ain't easy / I've got to let go"
The Strokes // New York City Cops
Ten // "Only when I'm dancing can I feel this free / At night I lock the doors so no-one else can see"
Madonna // Into The Groove

I hereby crown Spike the Pop Quiz King. Hoorah!

Anyway, it is well past my bedtime gentle readers but when has that ever stopped me? I'm going to have a piece of toast and wait for the Girls Aloud: Off The Record repeat to come on.

*For those of you who are interested, Kirstie & Phil's Top Ten Places To Invest (see, everyone's got listmania!) were: Manchester, Leeds, Bristol, Belfast, Reading, Southampton, Brighton, Edinburgh, Cambridge and Oxford.

Today's entry is bought to you by the sounds of what many in the meeja have dubbed 'the Norwiegian Kylie.' (If you think about this really hard, you head may explode.)



Besides, the fabulous Annie is nothing like Kylie, she's really more like Sophie Ellis-Bextor left in the Antarctic with a Casio keyboard. If you haven't already heard what was arguably one of the pop anthems of the year, then go forth and seek thee out Chewing Gum. Here's a few reasons why:

- Annie uses the timeless pop metaphor of boys = confectionery (see also: Mandy Moore, Candy) but it's not any old metaphor, it is also a gigantic pop put-down that we have not seen the like of since The Great Daphne & Celeste Diss-O-Rama of 2000.
- Annie is a regular collaborator of the mighty Richard X.
- Me Plus One from her album, Anniemal (do you see what she's done there? Eh?) is a track about that time that Geri Halliwell locked herself in a car because Richard X refused to give her one of his tracks. Sample lyric: "Now this wannabe senorita met a group of likely girls / Traded posters and the voxpops for jetting around the world / But it didn't make her happy and now she flies alone / The wrong pictures in the paper and no-one at home."
- She's from Norway. 'Nuff said.

I've messed up my body clock yet again. I was up until 4am last night writing my dissertation and luckily, my Television & Cultural Change lecture doesn't start until 2pm, so I managed to get near enough a full night's sleep. However, upon being collected by Sarah for our lecture, we decided that our time would be much more profitably spent by going shopping at nearby Gallion's Reach. There's something of the Pirates of the Caribbean about the name isn't there? Unfortunately, it isn't a pirate themed retail park and the only thing it reeks of is the nearby sewage works. You can see why we chose a trip to Gallion's Reach over a lecture on Jamie Oliver can't you?

So, not such a good start after my Easter break but I think that my amazing new Minnie Mouse shoes more than make up for my slacker-dom:



Amongst my other bargainious purchases of the day was a copy of Almost Famous (a contender for All Time Top Five...Coming of Age Movies) which was retailing at a thriftastic £2.89 and also a cut price Easter egg. In fact, I have been merrily scarfing chocolate that is slightly past it's Best Before date (and also, rather disconcertingly, pieces of foil too. It's like an electrical storm in my mouth today) that I can't face dinner.

I was meant to have a draft version of my dissertation ready this week so that my supervisor could read over it. This, however, was a rather optimistic plan and in retrospect, I was somewhat naive to think that my 10 Day Plan of 1000 words a day meant that I could get it done in time. The word count currently stands at 4,500 and I've only managed to discuss a fraction of the texts that I intended to. Le sigh. As you can probably tell gentle readers, I would far rather not think about such trivial matters and instead devote my precious time to the Da Vinci Code Quest! I'm sure it is the same for most girls, but god damn it, I cannot get enough of Tom Hanks with his sex-attacker hair extensions! I was doing quite well on the quest until I got to the second Sudoku symbols quiz and it was at that point that I promptly gave up and devoted an hour to dissecting Take That's Pray video with Megs instead. I rather find the idea of Howard Donald being told to writhe lavciviously in a fountain of oil by a director with artistic pretensions rather amusing. Observe:



I was re-reading my old diary last night and just absolutely cringing at the writing. First off, I have no idea why I abandoned upper-case letters, I did that terrible faux-emo thing of writing all in lower-case letters and squashing words together ("thankyouverymuch"). Plus, it was seemingly light on the content front, observe my entry from the 19th June 2001:

"tum tiddly pom.

i'd like to have simon callow as a tum-tum-tiddly-om-pom-pom kinda uncle, y'know?"

Goodness me, I'm surprised that anybody read it at all. So, apologies to old readers for inflicting that terrible adolescent dribble on you, I hope that reading my old diary didn't burn your eyes right out of your sockets. I guess it's not really that bad, just typical of all the other 17 year-old internet diarists but it's much like when you see pictures of yourself and you think, "what on Earth was I thinking?? Oversized Gap jumpers teamed with a fisherman's hat?!" Anyway, one thing I was reminded of was the sporadic Pop Quizzes that I posed and in tribute to my Diaryland diary and also because there is no-one on MSN to distract me from work, I present to you dear readers, my infamous Pop Quiz...

One // "Ain't no headlights on the road tonight / Ain't nobody here to make it right / 'Cos we couldn't seem to find a way for love to stay / If you had another night to give / I would have another night to live"
Two // "I know a girl from a lonely street / Cold as ice-cream but still as sweet"
Three // "What's my view? / How am I supposed to know? / Write a review / Well, how objective can I be?"
Four // "She's got a boyfriend / He drives me round the bend / 'Cos he's twenty-three / He's in the marines / He'd kill me"
Five // "Baby take me high upon a hillside / High up where the stallion meets the sun"
Six // "Last night Jackie Chan came around / I played pool with him and we hung out / Mr Miyagi and the X-Men called in for a while as well"
Seven // "So much for your highbrow Marxist ways / Just use me up and then you walk away"
Eight // "Running just as fast as we can / Holding onto one another's hands / Trying to get away into the night / And then you put your arms around me and then we tumble to the ground"
Nine // "Nina's in the bathroom / She said, 'time to go now' / But leaving, it ain't easy / I've got to let go"
Ten // "Only when I'm dancing can I feel this free / At night I lock the doors so no-one else can see"

Answers on the proverbial postcard s'il vous plait mon petit fromages. Merci!

Another rainy Sunday, once again summer is tantalisingly dangled in front of our faces only to be snatched away again. Yesterday was such a glorious day, I decided to abandon any thoughts of work and went to meet my dear friend, Lindsey, for lunch. We had already arranged to meet after work in fact, as I had agreed to ferry her to Laura Ashley to pick up a mirror for her flat. However, after a huge lunch and running our errands, we ended up just collapsing on her sofa and spent the evening talking and singing at the top of our lungs to the soundtrack of her youth, which unfortunately entailed a lot of hair-rock, bands with names such as Poison and Slaughter. All of which resulted in me getting home at 1:30am and completely missing my weekly fix of Doctor Who. Thank God for the BBC3 repeat, hurrah!

In tribute to today's inclement weather, I present to you dear readers, my...

All-Time Top Five...Rainy Sunday Anthems
Rainy Sundays are a godsend. They're an excuse to stay curled up in bed all day, preferably watching back to back episodes of DVD boxsets and reading the paper. Beautiful, warm, sunny Sundays make you feel guilty for Sunday laziness. As you lie in bed, there's a little nagging feeling that perhaps you ought to be out frolicking in the park with an M&S lunch (along with the thousands of other Londoners with much the same idea). So you get up and get ready to go by which it's 2pm and the sun has retired, leaving a rather forlorn you, valiantly attempting to eat a chicken pasta salad in a rather chilly, rather blustery patch of grass. So, Rainy Sundays are the guilt-free, diet version of Sunny Sundays if you will. So, go forth and put your favourite Rainy Sunday anthems on and climb back into bed and indulge in some duvet karaoke.


One // Travis Writing To Reach You
Everything about this track screams Rainy Sunday. From the low-frequency hum of the introduction to Fran Healy's melancholy lyrics and vocals. It even namechecks Sunday which gives it that extra boost of Sunday-ness: "Everyday I wake up and it's Sunday." If my memory hasn't been irrevocably damaged by this week's events, I seem to recall a story about Fran Healy writing this song in his unheated flat in Glasgow in the depths of winter and hearing Wonderwall on the radio, decided to steal off with Noel Gallagher's chord progression.

Two // Take That Back For Good
"I guess now it's time for me to give up / I think it's time / Got a picture of you beside me / Got your lipstick marks still on your coffee cup." Dear readers, could these be the Greatest Lyrics That Mention Coffee...EVER?? Listen as the opening chords strum down your hearing canal much as rain courses down your window! Feel the raw emotion as Gary Barlow's heart breaks into a thousand little pieces! Mourn the last rattling breath of the Greatest Boy Band that ever were. (And please try to refrain from laughing at Howard Donald's unfortunate sartorial choice of deer-stalker hat and dreadlocks.)

Three // Oasis Half The World Away
Noel Gallagher's finest moment I think, this is as stately and elegant as Oasis will ever get I think. This is tea and nostalgia rolled up into a pop song: "So here I go, I'm still scratching around in the same old hole / My body feels young but my mind is very old." But instead of sitting and wondering 'what if?', sit down and immerse yourself in 4 minutes and 23 seconds of the Gallagher's finest moment with a mellotron.

Four // Natalie Imbruglia Torn
For what it's worth, I think that Natalie Imbruglia is rather underrated. Just listen to her voice...it is by turns warm and heartbreaking and treacle-y and vunerable. As many will delight in telling you, this is actually a cover and the track was originally by some EuroChick but it doesn't matter because you have the definitive version right in front of you. Ignore the somewhat risque lyrics about lying naked on the floor, ignore the rather dishy (objectively speaking) Jeremy Sheffield as love-rat/interest in the video. I find that this goes down best with the volume turned up to 10 (or to 11 if you're that way inclined), duvet wrapped around you and bellow along as loud as your neighbours can stand it. If you're feeling energetic, you can even engage in some of the pixie-esque dancing that Natalie exhibits in the video.

Five // Michael Buble Home
This seems to be on permanent rotation on Heart FM along with S Club's Never Had A Dream Come True. If there is any radio station that is the epitome of Sunday-ness, surely it's Heart FM with it's easy-listening playlist and radio DJs headhunted straight from Watford FM. Anyway, I must admit that I do have a weak spot for Heart, especially when I'm driving home late at night and I know, I know that Michael Buble is kind of skidding towards the precipice of the Kingdom of Blunt (it's a slippery slope and an even more slippery metaphor) but I just can't seem to be able to resist country-tinged ditties.

Other tracks that were considered for today's list were: "2 Hearts", Sugababes; "Holding On For You", Liberty X; "Blame It On The Weatherman", B*Witched; "Other Side Of The World", KT Tunstall; "I'll See It Through", Texas; "La Vie En Rose", Louis Armstrong; "Eleanor Rigby", The Beatles and "Song For The Leftovers" A Camp (which was actually left out because of it's inclusion on All Time Top Five...Songs About One Night Stands, which is where it really rightfully belongs.)

Well, what with only waking up at 1pm, going out to Millets in order to acquire my coveted Cath Kidston sleeping bag and trying to cook dinner in time for the Doctor Who repeat, I haven't even managed to finish reading the last 40 pages of Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut. So, a proper entry to come gentle readers, along with the Doctor Who review (with 10% extra All New Tennant Adoration included!)

So, last night was a reminder of why I'm not that keen on drinking. Up until yesterday, I was quite proud to declare that I've never been ill whilst drunk. I know that it's a familiar adage of the hungover but I'm serious, I'm never drinking again. Apart from the fact that I feel incredibly unsafe trying to get home at night in London at the best of times, try doing it whilst drunk, with sleazy men accosting you on every street corner; pushy illegal cab drivers and the horrors of night buses. I just remember that every minute whilst I was fall-down-flat drunk last night, I kept on thinking, "God, I hate this feeling" and then proceeded to spend the rest of the evening harassing bar staff for tap water every half an hour in a desperate attempt to sober up. It got to the point where the bartender didn't even need to ask, upon sighting me staggering towards the bar, a fresh glass of tap water was instantly produced.

Not only am I incredibly ashamed at my behaviour last night (goodness knows why I was attempting to persuade two middle-aged suits, one of which looked like the love child of Greggles of Quizmania and Brian from The League of Gentlemen, to go to the Waxy Little Sister in Soho) but extremely angry at the way a lot of men don't seem to understand how daunting young women find travelling home late at night. So boys, a couple of tips for you:

- If you are a cab driver, don't get all pissy when a potential fare asks to see your licence. Certainly don't find said potential fare later when they've found a more suitable cab and aggressively confront her about whether she thinks that he is capable of rape.
- I know a lot of men get annoyed about the way women get suspicious of any man walking behind them at night. It's not a personal thing, it's not that you have a shifty way about you. It's just fact, it is scary walking home alone, at night only to hear footsteps behind you. So do us a favour and cross the road. It's just a little thing that saves both of us a lot of worry.
- It should be common sense but judging from friends' and my own experience, grabbing is just a terrible idea. In fact, physical contact of any sort, no matter how jokey or charming you think you are being, is not endearing that total stranger at the bus stop to you.

Another thing I hate about getting drunk - I'm not one of those people who can fall asleep as soon as their head touches the pillow when drunk. I spent most of last night wide awake, head pounding, mouth arid and burning chest, worrying incessantly about whether to call in sick at work today (which as you can judge by the timing of this entry, I did) and whether I would possibly die in the night if I slept on my front. I finally dropped off at 4am after drinking half a litre of water and taking some ibuprofen, only to wake at 7:30am with my cat asleep on my face. Not to mention the rude interruption at around 6am when Sarah turned over and flung her leg violently into my face. And then stole the covers. At 7:30am, I gave up on the prospect of sleeping properly and started doing the laundry and went out to the newsagents to buy some bacon. Ah the wonder of television, I remember watching Brainiac a few weeks ago (partly because I have an embarassing crush on the diminuative Richard Hammond) and they were testing out hangover cures. In my sleep-deprived brain, I managed to dreg up some of the results of this test. The group who had a greasy breakfast and sugary drinks were the ones who perked up the most, the sugar gives your body a quick boost of energy and the reason for the post-drinking craving for junk food is to replace all the salt lost in your body when you've been drinking. Finally, a reason to justify my television addiction.

Anyway, on to cheerier (well, marginally) fare. It seems that listmania is taking over the PopJustice Forums with two of the recent topics being Songs That Could Be About Domestic Violence and Best Break-Up Song. I would tackle the domestic violence one but unfortunately I can only think of a few (Thank You by Jamelia and I'm sure that Christina Aguilera has probably got one in her repetoire as well. I was going to suggest Where The Wild Roses Grow by Nick Cave and Kylie but that's not so much about domestic violence as a murder ballad.) So, instead, I'm going to go for the less taxing option...

All Time Top Five Ten...Break-Up Songs

Ah, heartbreak, a staple of pop music. Where to start? Should the list be split between the immediate-post-break-up ballad or the two-week-epiphany angry grrl stomper? I decided to steer clear of the more obvious candidates such as any Mariah Carey track or Kelis' debut, Caught Out There (known by many, to my chagrin, as I Hate You So Much Right Now) With such a vast swathe of heartbreak ripping its way through pop music, I decided that a trawl through my iTunes was needed to inspire me. And then I remembered that generally my lists tend to include Girls Aloud if at all possible, so that was a good a place to start as any. However, five was just too restrictive, I couldn't do it. So I present to you dear readers, my All Time Top Ten Break Up Songs, where heartbreak never sounded so good.

One // Girls Aloud - Whole Lotta History
A track that many proclaim to be the modern day incarnation of All Saints' Never Ever but that's a somewhat erroneous description. Yes, they're both slinky pop classics about break-ups, they both have talky bits at the beginning and they both employ the heartache/girl group harmony combo but unsurprisingly, I think that the Girls Aloud track is far far superior. For one thing, it has a fabulous video (the amazingness of which is only added to by Nicola's surly response to her shots, "It's just not good") and for another, it has lyrics that don't quite make sense, yet you still understand what it's trying to get at. Sample: "I'm falling all around when you miss me." Also, any song that sounds like it could be the soundtrack to the last dance at a prom immediately garners my devotion. Who hasn't gone through that feeling of bewilderment and inferiority on discovering that an ex has a new girl?

Two // A Camp - I Can Buy You
As Xander in his infinate wisdom comments, "I'm just gonna go home, lie down and listen to country music. The music of pain." A Camp, for the uninitiated, is the solo project of Nina Persson, lead singer of The Cardigans. It doesn't really have anything in common with the more straightforward indie pop sensibility of The Cardigans. The A Camp album was produced by Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse and takes a diversion towards the wilds of country music with a little electro thrown in. I can't remember how I discovered this track but I just remember immediately falling in love with it and then forcing it on everyone in an attempt to convert the masses. It only worked on one person and it's inextricably associated with this person in my mind now which only adds to the wistful melancholy of the song: "A life of sanity and dignity you know it takes two / And what's the use of being a millionaire if I can't have you?"

Three // Romeo - Basement Jaxx feat. Kele le Roc
I would like to put forward a suggestion that the rightful successor to the Gloria Gaynor disco-heartbreak throne is this track. Okay, so it's not disco as we know it, no kitschy wah-wah guitars but it's infectiously danceable (especially the Magnificent Romeo remix, found on the The Singles (Special Edition) which boasts a giant bassline and a Spiller-esque drum introduction.) I included this on a break-up CD for a friend of mine because it's just so joyous, I wanted to let her know that as horrible as she felt at the moment, it would get better and unfeasible as it seems at the time, she would be able to carry on: "'Cos you left me laying there with a broken heart / Staring through a deep cold void alone in the dark / And I miss your warmth in the morning / And the laughter when I can't stop yawning / Cos the tears on the pillow have dried my dear / Gonna let it all go cos I have no fear."

Four // Gone - Kelly Clarkson
Ah, the obligatory angry-grrl entry on the list. As Kelis has been barred from the list, I turned to nearest angry popstrel, the lovely Kelly Clarkson. Breakaway offers a wealth of heartbreak songs, Since U Been Gone is disqualified due to it's lyrical similarity to Romeo and other break-up songs of the I-Will-Survive ilk. I was quite perturbed to find Because of You on many a Ultimate-Best-Romantic-Love-Song...EVER! type compilation. As any fool knows, Because of You is a song about parental divorce. What better way of saying, "I love you" than with a little marital complications? Anyway, getting back to Gone - it fills the criteria of angry-grrl break-up song merely on the basis of the extremely shouty chorus. But even better is the almost gleeful spitefulness of the lyrics: "There is nothing you can say / Sorry doesn't cut it babe / Take the hit and walk away / Cos I'm gone."

Five // Nothing Good About This Goodbye - Rachel Stevens
Ah which version to choose. This track was originally recorded by the lovely Alexis Strum and as much as I worship at the Altar of Strum, La Stevens just pips her to the post. There is something about Rachel Steven's emotionless delivery that suits the track, much in the same way that her vocally-vacant style suited the Richard X produced Some Girls, a track about ruthless wannabe popstrels who will do anything for fame. Also, the inclusion of a Natalie Imbruglia-esque guitar middle 8 means that Rachel's version just wins over Alexis's original. It is also possibly one of the most catchy and immediate pop songs that I have heard in years. I cannot implore you enough, gentle readers, to track this lost pop gem down. In fact, abandon reading the rest of this entry and go and find the song, it is that good.

Six // Emotions - Destiny's Child
Not only does this song appear on my All Time Top Five...Songs To Fall Asleep To but now it makes it onto my All Time Top Five...Break-Up Songs. Perhaps not one of Destiny's Child's better known tracks, I think it is possibly my favourite Destiny's Child song. I just adore the lush, swooping harmonies that accompany a uncharacteristically restrained performance from diva du jour, Beyonce.

Seven // Crazy For You - Madonna
I am a little too young for this song to be the soundtrack to adolescent heartache but it's inclusion in 13 Going On 30 reminds me why it is the ultimate song for teenagers, in the throes of hormonal angst, to listen to on repeat whilst clutching a tear-stained-sateen-heart-shaped cushion to their chests.

Eight // I Want You Back - Jackson 5
Ah, a sub-genre in the break-up song, the song that begs and pleads forgiveness from the beloved ex. This has been included for much for the same reasons as Romeo's inclusion on the list, the sheer danceability factor and the roaring joyfulness of the track. I don't know any girl that doesn't abandon her coveted spot on the obligatory battered leather sofas that have populated clubland in order dance around, arms aloft in the air, to this song.

Nine // Ace Reject - Sugababes
Ah, the Sugababes are connoisseurs of the break-up song, their songs run the spectrum from teenage heartache (New Year, "I'm older than my years / drowning in my tears / surrounded by the fears / since you went away a year ago / at Christmas") to the very moment that things fall apart (Conversation's Over, "I've found the strength to finally say it / what the walls have heard a thousand times") back around to declarations of independence (Hole In The Head 'Eleven hours on a brand new day / I'm getting ready to go out and play / it's late at night and I'm caught in a groove / I'll kiss my ass before I'm feeling blue") However, I have to choose Ace Reject simply because it is the best track that the Sugababes have produced. FACT. (Yes, I am even choosing it over the Sugababes V1.0 material.) It's not the most immediate of their tracks and it's not what you'd really expect of a Sugababes/Xenomania collaboration (i.e. not a massive electro-pop stomper). After a couple of listens however, it just becomes lodged in your brain and refuses to leave. It just captures perfectly the messiness of a break-up: "We break up and make it up / back and forth we never stop / everytime a change of heart / I can't keep up / When you say yes then I say no / When it turns hot we make it cold / There's still something bonding our souls together."

Ten // You Don't Have To Say You Love Me - Dusty Springfield
Ah, there's nothing like a good old fashioned torch song and as far as I'm concerned, no-one does it better than Dusty. This is just an epic, monster of a torch song, right from the start with the horns and the near apocalyptic sounding backing vocalists and then...Dusty comes in. She may start off sounding fragile and cracked but the sheer desperation of her pleas at the end of the song, "You don't have to stay forever, believe me, believe me, believe me" is enough to crack the hardest of hearts. What is more heartbreaking than unrequited love?

Phew. Well, as revived as I was when I started this entry, I find that being unfailingly enthusiastic about pop music has drained me of any new-found energy. I believe it is time for another bacon sandwich. I would be delighted to hear any suggestions for entries on today's All Time Top Five and also suggestions for a category for next week. As per usual, suggestions on a postcard please.

I am a terrible, terrible friend. I have been trying to think of an excuse to get myself out of birthday celebrations tomorrow. I fear that the Wretched Dissertation is not a good enough excuse (well, nothing bar illness is really a good enough excuse and I can't quite bring myself to lie). It also makes me worry a little that I'm developing anti-social tendancies. I was discussing this earlier with Sarah, that the whole clubbing scene has lost its sheen for us. I'm not sure whether it's premature middle-aged-dom or it's just that I've never been that big on drinking anyway.

Judging from the entries in the Belarusian Movie Poster quiz I posed yesterday, you, my dear readers, know your Cyrillic alphabet. But for those of you who just couldn't get past the likeness that Jim Carrey poses to Cain Dingle in the first poster, here are the answers:





I was rather puzzled by this poster actually. There is no promotional poster for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind that bears a resemblance to the Belarusian version, so consider yourselves lucky, gentle readers, that you are in the midst of an exclusive. Also, as Stepford Tart points out, "The first one has got Jim Carrey in it (but I'm not sure why his face is blue)." Indeed.





I'm not too sure how La Lohan (or Jamie Lee Curtis for that matter) would react to their Belarusian likeness. Looking at the answers, it ranges from "manic looking women" to "Marilyn Manson and the skinnier girl from the Human League". I must agree with Stepford Tart that they do bear a passing resemblance to a Human League tribute band. Not least because Lindsey Lohan seems to have developed a 5 o'clock shadow in the Belarusian poster and could very well pass as Phil Oakey. And finally...





It really is a tribute to the artistic talent of the Belarusians that the only likeness they can seemingly capture is the monkey-man formerly known as Adam Sandler. Yes, the man whose face you can render with any amount of wonkiness or distortion and it still looks like Adam Sandler. Unfortunately, Drew Barrymore does not benefit from a somewhat abstract treatment. I don't know about you, but I especially like how her right eye is where her left eyebrow is. Not to mention that her head has been transplanted onto the body of a Ukranian housewife.

Well, I hope you enjoyed that little quiz my lovely readers. And we do in fact have a winner...

..Stuart! Bow down before him for his knowledge of Eastern European film art is unrivalled.

And speaking of distorted faces, here's another handy procrastination-aid that I discovered last night courtesy of Gia, the St Andrew's Face Morpher. Unfortunately, it is not so named because St. Andrew developed it in between courses at the Last Supper but rather because it was developed at St. Andrew's University. If you do have a spare half-hour and have always wondered what you would look like as a white girl, then definately investigate. (It seemingly only works in IE or Firefox, so Safari users, you'll have to switch over to the dark side temporarily. Thankyou.)

So I started out like this:

So, first up I tried out the different race options, we've got Afro-Caribbean and Caucasian here. I think I look scarily like Malorie Blackman in the Afro-Caribbean picture. And suffice to say, I don't make an attractive white girl, there's something disturbingly glassy-eyed about my Caucasian-doppleganger.

Next up, a foray into time with a babyfied version of me and an elderly version. Can I just state that I did not look like a Roswell-reject as a child and was in fact, exceedingly cute. It also seems that I am fated to morph into my father as I grow older.

And finally, my personal favourites, the artistic morphs. From left to right we have: Botticelli, Mucha and Modigliani. I'm not sure how the Botticelli morph works but it doesn't seem to be compatible with my face. That is not a face that could be seen rising, Venus-like out of the sea. The Modigliani one is, far and away, my favourite if only for how much it does look like a Modigliani, have a look at Madame Pompadour and you can see how good the likeness is.

I'd actually quite like to wander around South London with the face of a Modigliani. I could become an urban legend, something I feel that Peckham lacks. I mean, Camberwell has its White Woman, which is definately not an urban legend as I saw her wandering along Camberwell Church Street about 6 years ago. For those of you who aren't familiar with the story (that'll be most of you then...), the White Woman of Camberwell is a black lady who paints herself plaster white, from every hair on her head to her toes. The legend is that she paints herself white because she got raped by a black man and ever since then, has painted herself white. At the time when I heard this story from my 14-year old schoolmates, it sounded plausible. However, now on reflection, I think she's probably just a local eccentric (knowing Camberwell).

Anyway, speaking of myths and legends, I had better get back to Bluebeard and the Wretched Dissertation. Pip pip.

Today has been a disasterously unproductive day, no work has been done at all and it's 8:34pm now. I've spent all day in bed watching films (which ordinarily is no bad thing but when you've got 5 days to write 7,500 words, it's an entirely different matter). Anyway, I decided I wanted the cinematic equivalent of comfort food, gooey, stodgy and sweet, when I was in the midst of my little breakdown the other day. I decided that there was nothing for it, I needed Hugh Grant's crab-dancing in Love Actually.



Anyway, this obviously sent me flying off the work-wagon and onto the romcom wagon. I seem to have had trouble sleeping recently and I've had to resort to watching films at night to get me to sleep and sure enough, 40 minutes in (every time, I swear) I drop off. Last night's screening was High Fidelity as it has been long overdue a repeat showing. I finished watching it today (and also continued junking out on Hitch) and it reminded me that it's been a while since I've played All Time Top Five.... Now, usually this is a game you play with two people. Myself and Lawrence started playing this whilst bored at work a few summers ago and it becomes highly addictive. We found that as time wore on, we started running out of credible categories which meant resorting to lists such as "All Time Top Five...Condiments". Unfortunately, I have no-one at present to play All Time Top Five... with, so you, gentle readers, will have to suffice for now. Inspired by my recent spate of romcoms, the category is...

All Time Top Five...Scenes In Films That Make Me A Bit Wobbly

One High Fidelity // "All Time Top Five Things I Miss About Laura..."
Let's start off from the source and the inspiration for this particular list. This scene takes place around the middle of the film and it's when Rob comes to the realisation that he does miss Laura and wants her back. I can't explain why I love this scene so much, I think it's mainly in John Cusack's delivery of the lines and the kind of comforting intimacy that he conveys.

Two Amelie // Copycat Kisses
I'm aware that quite a few people find this film a little too whimsical and fey but this definately makes it into my All Time Top Five...Films (Ever). The scene I'm referring to is at the end of the film when Nino finds Amelie in her apartment and she plants a trail of kisses across his face and neck and he kisses her back in exactly the same places. It's just achingly tender and fits the tone of the film perfectly.

Three Love Actually // Flashcard Declaration
Richard Curtis is so often criticised for his portrayal of chocolate-box London and his saccharine writing and I agree and I'm sure he too is aware of his limitations as a writer. But it is too easy to criticise Curtis and the whole genre in general and if you take it for what it is, Curtis's scripts are some of the best of the genre. Love Actually is perhaps simultaneously his best and worst, it's too ambitious and falls flat in some places but when it goes right, as in the case of the Hugh Grant/Martine McCutcheon, Alan Rickman/Emma Thompson and Laura Linney/Rodrigo Santoro storylines, it's perfect escapist entertainment. However, the entry for Love Actually involves the triangle between Juliet, Peter and Mark and the moment when Mark turns up on Juliet's doorstep, equipped with a stereo and an armful of written declarations of unrequited love. It's classic Curtis: heartbreaking, bittersweet and witty in equal measures.

Four Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind // PJs & Cowboys
Yet another film that would make it into my All Time Top Five...Films (Ever) list. It's difficult to choose a scene from this film because much like a distant dream, it all blurs into one fuzzy memory. The scene that sticks out for me most is the scene in which Joel regresses back to his childhood memories in an effort to 'hide' Clementine from the erasing process. It's been a while since I've seen the film but I remember loving the sweet nostalgic feel of this sequence and as it is throughout the film, the cinematography is just gorgeous.

Five Moulin Rouge! // Elephant Love Medley
Finally, a completely overblown entry in the list. I imagine that people either adore or despise Baz Luhrmann's work, particularly the incredibly camp and epic Moulin Rouge!. About half an hour from the end of the film, I start crying and I don't stop until the end but the scene that makes it into the list is one from the beginning of the film. Christian scales a giant elephant in the courtyard of the Moulin Rouge (bear with me here...) and proceeds to serenade Satine (in Ewan's enthusiastic but bland tones) with a medley of 20th century love songs. Ah Ewan, you had me from, "My gift is my song..."

Whilst I was writing this entry, I went onto Google Images to try and find the above picture of Hugh Grant doing his legendary sideways dance. Interestingly, one of the results was this:



This, gentle readers, is the Belarusian poster for Love Actually. Quite why Martine McCutcheon is dressed like Pauline Fowler and Hugh Grant has grown an afro is beyond me. So, a little quiz for you, what movies are these Belarusian posters advertising?







Answers on a postcard please and all shall be revealed in the next entry.

I was taking a little break from writing last night and I started looking back through my photographs from Paris. Well, strictly speaking they're not mine because my beloved APS Ixus chewed up my film so I've had to steal off with Sarah's photos instead. It turned out to be just what I needed, I think that Paris in January was the last time I felt happy and unencumbered with the daily weight of my life at the moment and knowing that in a matter of weeks, it'll all be over (bar the pesky NATFHE strikes but that is a diatribe for another day...) and in 43 days, I'm off with my Dearest Ones on a jaunt around the Eastern corner of our great continent (although I read about the Danube overflowing in the Balkans yesterday, so we'll see...)

So, today's word count so far stands at 2382 and I'm aiming to hit 3000 at least today as I'm slightly off schedule. All writing has halted to a stop as I've suddenly realised that I have no knowledge of feminist literary criticism and that a little reading is in order. I'm also trying to navigate my way through the wedge of a book that is Christopher Booker's The Seven Basic Plots which on the surface sounds fascinating but I fear is rather dull deep down.

During my perambulations around the Internet last night in an effort to distract myself from writing, I discovered this little widget called a Musicube. (If everyone will look to the right, they will see the Musicube in it's natural habitat along with all the other Internet accoutrements of a blog sidebar) I'm aware of a lot of people's vitriol towards Radio 1 (even the mighty Popjustice) but I must admit I have rather a soft spot for it. I find that increasingly I listen to it in the mornings and afternoons when I get in from work or university. Not to mention my rabid support of Public Service Broadcasting endears Radio 1 to me much more than the mindless droning of Capital Radio or some such other station. I find myself making an exception for XFM on a Saturday whilst driving home from work as I do quite like Adam & Joe's brand of student humour. Anyway, I've grown fond of the little Musicube, it's a little like a pet, sitting in the corner and making rather a lot of noise.

Apologies, for a rather dull entry, the cabin fever must have taken root.

Happy Easter gentle readers. I sincerely hope you had a better Easter Sunday than I did. Not only was there a dearth of quality televisual entertainment (where have the 2pm e4 Popworld repeats gone? Am very aggrieved at missing Simon & Miquita's last episode before Hateful Zane and Unknown Chung take over) but I also had a huge row with my father, which is an incredibly rare occurance. Needless to say, in true tortured adolescent fashion, I have taken to my room and brooded whilst listening to the only soothing thing I could find on my iTunes, the Norah Jones album. Unforunately it doesn't really seem to be doing the trick but I can't seem to summon up the energy to care. It's getting to that point where rightous anger gives way to shame at having behaved so dreadfully, mixed with impertinent pride. Still, there's a little stubborn angel on my shoulder who bristles and crackles with anger at the futility of trying to be straightforward and upfront only to find it backfiring and becoming an argument about something else entirely. The feeling isn't entirely dissimilar (I imagine) to driving headfirst into a brick wall.

Anyway, I take my leave in order to spare you my Dear Readers of any more typical LJ-style emo angst. I can barely tolerate it myself so I imagine you must be feeling ready to beat yourself about the head with your own arm. I have spent today reading yet another substandard novel for the Cursed Dissertation, Bluebeard's Room by Emma Cave. As regular readers may have surmised, this girl has no objections to pulpish entertainments but even this was below my standards. Anyway, it is 10:13pm and the grand today of 0 words has been written so far. I fear that my daily target of 1000 words will not be met today. Normal service will be resumed tomorrow.

Oh me, oh my. I think I need a glass of cold water. If there's anything that is guaranteed to bring the fangirl out in me, it's a handsome man in a suit and glasses, travelling the length and breadth of space and time. (That said, it doesn't take much to awaken the dormant fangirl in me.) I don't know about you gentle viewers, but I thoroughly enjoyed New Earth tonight, not to mention Doctor Who Confidential narrated by lovely Mark Gatiss.

I must confess that I was rather cold to the charms of Russell T Davies prior to tonight's episode but that 45 minutes of television has melted any indifference to RTD that I might have harboured. Not since the (short-lived) heyday of Firefly have I fallen so completely, head-over-heels for a 'verse.

An ameteurish, gushing dissection of tonight's episode follows:

- I take back any disparaging comments I might have made regarding Billie's acting in the past, She gives good smoulder.
- Oh my, RTD did spoil the 'shippers tonight didn't he?: the "first date" reference; "hormone-city!"; references to "new" and "unused" parts and not to mention the much-publicised kiss between Rose and the Doctor. My she did have a firm grip on his head didn't she?
- Scary, funny and exciting in equal measures it may have been, I did find the human-farm/Matrix premise a little tired.
- But I can forgive that low-point just for:
- "Applegrass!"
- Rose jumping up and down squealing "ground!" amused me no end.
- I will never look at a samba in the same way ever again. I wasn't sure whether to laugh uproariously or hide behind the sofa.
- More hide-behind-the-sofa moments arose every time the word "chav" was uttered onscreen. I'm sure that at the time of writing, this might have been amusing but a year down the line, it just grated. In future please leave flippant pop culture references to the Mighty Whedon.
- It appears that the hardcore contingent found the Rose/Cassandra bodyswap tedious but I cannot resist a good old paranormal (is there any other kind??) bodyswap. (See also: BtVS, Tabula Rasa)
- I imagine that the "it's like being in a bouncy castle" comment engaged the attention of a significant proportion of the male audience...
-...much as the disinfectant scene did for the majority of the female audience.
- Is it just me or does Zoe Wanamaker look suspiciously...well?

Needless to say, I am very much looking forward to next week's episode. Mainly due to the werewolves and Scottish accents, woof! Having seen the preview, I am just glad that Oz' werewolf costume has not been recycled and the BBC have put our money to good use with some lovely CGI. (Note to self: must stop comparing Doctor Who and Buffy.)

In other news: I have finally gotten around to eating the Chocolate Cherry Cupcakes and they are luscious. Best of all, not only are they seductively moist but incredibly messy and for me, that is the benchmark of good cake. I have already scarfed two today and I fear this figure will rise as the weekend progresses as I continue writing my dissertation (988 words and counting...)

Work was deathly dull today and I still cannot figure out whether She Who Does Not Speak is chronically shy, devoid of a personality or simply hates me. I tried to engage her in a bonding session today by bitching about a rude customer that she had encountered and I got the cold shoulder.

My lovely, shiny new 1GB memory card was waiting on my doormat when I arrived home from work. Get ready for some more macro-lens action:













And finally: Even though I know it's incredibly wrong, I am becoming increasingly fond of that awful From Paris to Berlin song. My love for it is neither helped nor hindered by this. (Beware: not for those of a faint disposition or those who have an aversion to half-naked, bearded Irish men.)

Once again, to reiterate: !!!!!!!!!
That is all.

Well, I was merrily writing away, my fingers a mere blur against the keyboard when I realised that I hadn't received an Easter egg this year! I was outraged and decided to remedy this by making Nigella's Chocolate Cherry Cupcakes, being inspired by Esurientes. I was seduced by the simplicity of the recipe, the cake mix is prepared all in one saucepan. The butter needn't be softened (if like me, you are a spontaneous baker and keep your butter in the fridge, softening butter in a microwave is a Herculean task) and there's only one pan to wash up. Not to mention the slightly exotic ingredient of a jar of black cherry jam. Well, how could I resist such a recipe?

The only calamity was the chocolate ganache icing which I managed to ruin on the first attempt. I'm not quite sure what went wrong, I suspect that I burnt the chocolate and caused the ganache to split, resulting in an oily, gritty mess. I decided to try again, this time with a creamier milk chocolate and by barely letting the cream heat up. I whipped the pan straight off the stove as soon as the chocolate started melting, stirred it until it became a smooth, creamy mixture. Transfer it to a bowl and put in the fridge. When it's cooled after about 15 or 20 minutes, get it out and whisk like fury so that you end up with a silky smooth, just set ganache.

Nigella's original recipe calls for natural coloured glace cherries, which set on top of the glossy dark ganache looks incredibly sophisticated and chic. However, combine my love of kitsch and seeing as this was my first time baking cupcakes, I thought I'd treat myself to some frivolous decorations. I spied these Barbie sprinkles at Asda and decided that I simply had to have them. Slurp.

Nigella's Chocolate Cherry Cupcakes

for the cupcakes
125g unsalted butter
100g dark chocolate, broken up into small squares
300g cherry jam (I recommend Hartley's Black Cherry jam because it's not too sweet and contains whole cherries)
150g caster sugar
a pinch of salt
2 large eggs, beaten
150g self-raising flour, sifted (I had to substitute this for plain flour with three level teaspoons of baking powder)
Muffin tin and paper cases

for the ganache
120g chocolate (dark if you want a more elegant, grown-up cupcake, milk for the sweet-tooths out there)
100g double cream
Glace cherries or sprinkles to decorate

Preheat the oven to 180c / gas mark 4.

Cut the butter up into rough chunks if it's just come out of the refrigerator, if it's already softened then I imagine it can just go into the pan as it is. Try to do this in a non-stick, heavy bottomed saucepan so that it doesn't burn the mixture. Heat the butter in the pan and when it's almost completely melted, add the chocolate and take the pan off the heat. Stir the mixture thoroughly with a wooden spoon so that the butter and chocolate mix completely and then add the cherry jam, sugar, salt and eggs. Stir until it becomes a smooth mixture and then start adding the flour. I added about a fifth of the flour each time and then mixed it into a smooth paste in order to avoid any pesky lumps.

Line your muffin tin with the paper cases and distribute the mixture equally. For some reason I couldn't find my 12-bun muffin tin so I had to make do with baking it in two batches in my 6-bun tin. It took 25 minutes for the muffins to cook but bear in mind that I don't have a lovely fan-assisted oven, so keep your eye on the time. When the muffins are cooked, a metal skewer (or knife for those who are skewer-deprived like me) inserted should come out cleanly and when tested with a (clean!) finger, should feel cautiously springy. Leave the muffins to cool in the tin for 10 minutes and then turn out onto a cooling rack.

Leave them to cool and resist the temptation to devour one whilst making the ganache.

Pour the cream into a saucepan and add the chocolate. Heat this mixture whilst stirring gently and when the chocolate just starts to melt and bleed into the double cream, take it off the heat and keep on stirring. When the chocolate has completely melted into the cream, transfer to a bowl and refrigerate for 15 to 20 minutes. When the mixture has cooled, whisk (preferrably with an electric handwhisk to make such matters easier) until it coalesces into a buttercream-like consistency. It should be thick enough to stand in peaks briefly when you take the whisk out. Smooth the ganache onto your cupcakes using the back of a spoon and decorate either with sprinkles or cherries. The only thing left to do is eat. Preferably on your own.

Today's letter is H and the word is hurrah.

I am full of the joys of spring today, I sprang out of bed (which if you know anything about me you will know that it's quite a feat. A miracle one might say...) and as if possessed by a literary demon, started writing my dissertation. Just like that. The title page is a thing of beauty. The opening paragraph is truly a marvel to behold. The second paragraph...well, it's written. Let's leave it at that.

To celebrate I have dusted off my Sunny Motown playlist:

Tracks of my Tears / Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
Somethin' Stupid / Nancy & Frank Sinatra
You're My First, My Last, My Everything / Barry White
Natural Woman / Aretha Franklin
Ain't Too Proud To Bed / The Temptations
Love Train / The O'Jays
Dancing In The Street / Martha Reeves & The Vandellas
California Soul / Marlena Shaw
Back In My Arms Again / The Supremes
Moonlight, Music and You / Laura Greene
How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) / Junior Walker & The All Stars
Hey Baby / Bruce Channel
You Never Can Tell / Chuck Berry
I Get The Sweetest Feeling / Jackie Wilson
I Only Want To Be With You / Dusty Springfield
(Love Is Like A) Heatwave / Martha Reeves & The Vandellas
Please Mr. Postman / The Marvelettes
I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch) / The Four Tops
It Takes Two / Marvin Gaye & Kim Weston
Do You Love Me? / The Contours
I Want You Back / Jackson 5
Tired Of Being Alone / Al Green
(This Will Be An) Everlasting Love / Natalie Cole

Gentle readers, I bid you a Happy Friday.

Today's musical revival is Ed Harcourt who has been dredged from the murky depths of my iTunes library because She Fell Into My Arms popped up whilst I had my whole library on shuffle. And what a fine companion for a blustery day spent cooped up indoors than a man with a weakness for writing torch songs. Particularly one who can carry off a fine hat such as this one:



I've had a particularly productive day despite not rolling out of bed until the rather ripe hour of 11am. Work didn't actually start until 2pm as I frittered away my precious hours by making copious cups of tea (an effort to ward off a scratchy sore throat) and talking on the phone to Megs for an hour and a half about television. I have embargoed myself from any social engagements until the end of the semester bar Lien's upcoming birthday and Steph's welcome home celebrations. Goodness knows how the social whirl of polite society in South London (an oxymoron if ever there was one) will cope without my luminous presence. I surprised myself with my own industriousness today, I started and completed Blue Diary by Alice Hoffman, resisted the urge to watch the Doctor Who double bill, failed to resist listening to Tennant's Radio 1 interview and made a cheese omelette for dinner. Fabulous. In all fairness, the only reason I managed to complete Blue Diary was that it was a rather easy read. It was pretty compelling but badly written. I hate these writers who just think that shovelling in barrowloads of fey, wistful poetic imagery makes for genuinely lyrical prose:

"Surely if circumstances had been different, Jorie would have walked down another path, but this is the course her life has taken, and it has led her to this place, a world where some people tell you too much and others tell you nothing at all. Here in her garden, the Japanese beetles glitter like stars and the sky is endless and black. It is impossible to stop some things, rainfall, for instance, and love at first sight, and the slow and steady path of sorrow."

Combine this with overabundant descriptions of azure blue skies, the fragrant scent of honeysuckle in the evenings, raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens and writing that has all the subtlety of an anvil and you've got a fairly good idea of the novel. Which is not to say that I didn't enjoy the book because the plot propells you through the book but I guess I'm just a little ashamed at enjoying books like these. I feel similarly about books like The Time-Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger and After You'd Gone by Maggie O'Farrell. I have no problem with reading trashy chick-lit novels but there's something about this kind of writing with literary pretensions that irks me.

I am in somewhat of a restless mood though and this may be a factor in my possibly unfair condemnation of Blue Diary. I'm still worrying endlessly about the dissertation and for a few days now I've been thinking that perhaps I should just throw caution to the wind and start writing and see where it takes me. I've resigned myself to the fact that I haven't been very well organised and that I probably won't do as well as I could have done with this which irritates me no end because I was really enthusiastic about my topic. Nevermind, I'm in the final lap now and I guess I'll just have to do whatever is possible and hope that I end up with what I want. The silliest thing is that I've spent half an hour writing this entry and I complain about now having enough time. Sigh.

On that note, I should take my leave and continue reading Bluebeard's Room because I still have Kurt Vonnegut to read as well as Rebecca and The Piano to watch when all I really want to do is watch Good Friday tv and stuff myself with cheap confectionery. I leave you with some more of my experiements with my Ixus. Gute nacht.