Pretties

Just though I'd pop up a few choice pictures from prom. Altnhough I love my canon EOS film camera, If I'm drinking I can't handle manual focus, so always get a disposable, which never lets me down. So here are some pretties!

Ha haa haaaaaa

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wcANDk_Q4Ho&NR=1
Having a full on Smiths phase at the moment. But that video just made me laugh, because I noticed the gross amount that a person i know has copied Morrissey's mannerisms.
Still, not my favourite Smiths song, that's got to be Bigmouth or There is a light that never goes out.
Still, I don't believe in a Smiths reunion, or even goingt o be Morrissey doing all the songs on his solo tour. A mon avis the smiths were only truly great during their heyday.

Oh my gosh how I wish I'd been around to seen them at their best. Unfortunatley my Dad was around 11, and my Mother around 12 during their finest moments, so I don't even have second hand live smiths experience.
My Nonnie did go see Whitesnake though...

Too true.

Tenessee Williams cupcake, one of many I made for my last lit class. It tastes of working class strife and faded southern belles.

End of an era

Although I am mainly posting on my long neglected blog due to my facebook having been taken from me during the final run up to my alevels, I certainly have missed a bit of blogspot.
Tomorrow I leave school FOREVER. It's an incredibly scary feeling. I've only been at my current school for the past two years, but it's more the structure that I think I will miss, as well as the social life on tap, scheduled times to work, rest and play AND my Kate Moss of an English Literature teacher.
A few weeks ago I had my end of year 13 prom, and it's up there with the funnest nights of my life. It was epic. I completely overdid myself, as I will at even the slightest sniff of 'formal' having a huge hairdo done by my amazing redheaded Glaswegian acquaintance April. My dress was a relative cheapie from Oasis, but I've always hankered after a Mad Men style know-your-assets dress. I loved it, especially going to The Porter, a pretty low key super bohemian pub in it. I also amazed myself by drinking just about everything in sight, and remaining borderline decent, no unladylike drunken behaviour to report! Oddly prior to five months of terrible nights out, absolutley no alcohol touching my lips, I was the worst lightweight in existence, but now, I'd say I have a reasonable threshold for alcohol. Which I'm glad of. Basically, after prom, I realised that nights out with teachers are far better than I good of envisaged. I also learnt that wearing a wonderbra gives me something of a ludicrous chest. I'm yet to decide whether this is good or not.
Despite the absolutley hellish years I spent at an all girls private school, I've actually quite enjoyed school, as a whole. Despite my numerous early school catfights, and later school love triangles, school has been great. Really great. Really, leaving school symbolises the beggining of all the world changing events to come. After leaving school it means alevels are soon, and subsequent university, which means leaving my country house and loving West country mother and sarcastic father and odd little brothers. So odd. I know change is good, and the likelihood is I'll have a great time, but the prospect is awful. Awful.
So, last day of school tomorrow! Bring it!

Miserable mood averted.

Time for an update
Today I was moody. In a big way.
University rejection, slight pancake hangover.
However, there is a solution, which I feel I should share.
My ultimate dont be miserable playlist.
here ya are:
Oh! You Pretty Things- David Bowie
If nothing else works, let David Bowie tell you you are pretty. No young person should listen to this without feeling a little guilty. We have youth! And beauty! And style! Don’t be miserable!
Monkey Man- The Specials
I cannot be miserable listening to this, to me it is nightclubs late at night, pestering the DJ for this song. I have never got it played for me yet. It’s solidarity and friendship and above all, nights out and bad experiences with bouncers. Bad days need reminding of these things.
You- Gold Panda
Songs with no words are just what bad days sometimes cry out for. Something like the works of my much beloved Morrissey just would not work. The tragic lyrics just don’t help a bad situation. If one needs to indulge, which sometimes has been earnt, and utterly give in to miserability, have a big cry, that sort of thing, Morrissey is perfect. But this Lo-fi work of nonsense, babbling over a pleasant tone, just works. Instant pick me up. Good driving song too.
Inbetween Days- The Cure
Of course, all bad days come with an element of self pity. It’s only right. So although this is an utterly miserable song, the message Robert Smith moans is vital, ‘Go on Go on just walk away’ which we must do on bad days. Walk away. Pretend it’s tomorrow.
Two Shoes- The Cat Empire
Noone does miserability like the Europeans. For moping around, look to Parisian artisans, utterly miserable. This has beautiful French accents as well as sulky tones, despite the trumpets , it just sounds like Burgundy velvet to me. Remember, you have two shoes, and they are for dancing, not dragging.

Bit like losing a limb.

Ok. Imagine this. You spend around.. ten or eleven months with this one pair of shoes on. You got them in the sale, last possible pair, even had to be a little bit feisty with a couple of fellow customers to get your hands on them, and your friends are angry because you have the shoes they wanted. So to start with you are SO happy with these shoes, and you dont care that you wear them everysingle day, from the minute you wake up to when you go to sleep. After a little while the shoes hurt a bit, but you still dont take them off, because they're you're favourite and loveliest shoes, in these shoes you feel amazing, even if they pinch you a bit. A bit after, the shoes REALLY hurt you, give you like, a massive septic blister, but you simply cannot take the shoes off. The shoes dont care that you have other problems, like the fact that they just arent right for the occasion, and make you feel awkward in social situations, they just stay on your feet, regardless! You cannot take them off of your feet, they're just a part of you. So you accept the shoes as just being there, on your feet, rubbing occasionally. For a little while you realise how much you need the shoes, and really love having them there, enjoy the fact they're there. Then one day, whilst sortin gout a much bigger issue, you realise, 'what was I thinking, these are shoes, they're not ruling me.' Take the shoes off, and put them in the oxfam bag, for people at the shop to fight over.

I know I'm abusing metaphors like crazy here. But in the back and sometimes front of my mind for well, all of this year, has been this person. They dont know the half of what has happened this year, and I will never ever tell them. But yesterday it finally hit me, not the fact that I dont, and never have needed them ,as I had thought I did, because I knew that for a while, instead, I suddenly lost the ability to care at all. I wish them all the best, but honestly, whereas six months ago I would be panicking over how their life is going, now, I'll let it slide. I'll always care for them as a person, in the way that you care about the diminishing tiger population, or baby whales, you dont mind knowing how it's doing, but it doesnt really affect you. Therefore, I'm happy again. I may be burying myself in work to counterbalance the much more serious things going on that I really really do not want to think about, particularly now I dont have my person I feel able to talk to about them. It's been wierd at first, my head feels strangely level in a way that it hasnt been in a long time, and i've reverted to my old American beauty 'theonlypersonyoucanrelyonisyourself' theory. I know for a fact it's a better way to be, it's just odd to look at it all without someone to make a sarcastic comment about it.
I guess I'll be going barefoot, and walking a long long way.

No more metaphors from now on. I sound FAR too whiney.