so you don't wanna hear about my good day?

you know your weekend will be epic when...
it starts with finally buying that Topshop rip off of a Balenciaga, incorporates awesome Margs and churros at Wahacca, skips to Bardens for Stillhouse Orchestra and Lydia Darlings awesome peacock show, has a brief interlude of Friday night
it recommences with the arrival by post of Panic at the Disco tickets, continues with you running into Julian Barratt in your local Starbucks,

then an Awesome Haircut Happens (seriously, James I love you)

then you go out for cocktails and sex toy shopping

and its only saturday evening! tomorrow is an epic hair colour change appt (3 hours! why do I do this to myself) and the Cloverfield fan screening.


epicepicepic

witty quote about odd families

having listened to about 30 seconds of Nine in the Afternoon, my mother has now decided that she's coming to see Panic in Leeds too (my brother and I have ticket already). some families go to disneyworld or Butlins to bond. I love my mummy. I think the last time we went to a gig together was Foo Fighters in 96/97 which makes me feel a bit old.

the fangirls are coming...

I just got to the office half an hour early and spent quite a lot of money getting tickets to every UK Panic show (within 4 mins of them going on sale - damn I'm good). it is going to be quite exciting.

frankly, it had better be more exciting than the groceries and utility bills I should have spent the money on - boys, if you're reading, take note.


this entire blog has been rather panic-centered of late. I'm not really obsessed, it's just that it's all happening. now.

in other news - lyrics are happening. faster and more polished than before. the note book is no longer just coming with me on the bus, it's living under my pillow, sitting in a plastic bag next to the shower (not my best idea ever it must be said) and has soy sauce stains on it from it's brief stint next to the stove during tea time last night. I feel for the first time like this might. just. work...

dear Panic at the Disco,
no, I DO NOT have time for one last challenge; I have things to do! like work and sleep and house moves and writing. Don't make me spend another weekend looking for puzzle pieces on the internet. please? because you know I will.

Heath Ledger



not really much i can say about that apart from how awful.

I am being bathed in half an hour of late afternoon golden light, I am listening to Cobra Starship and I have less work to do that I did half an hour ago. Things could, I suppose, be worse.

but I have a cup of crap coffee in front of me and it is spoiling EVERYTHING.

4am knows all my secrets

last night I was too tired to cry about something I know needed tears. Regular sleep is a distant dream replaced by nightmares, anxieties, waking up to feel my own body holding its breath until I see stars and inky black. This morning I walked round my house for 20 minutes completely unable to tell if I was in London or Leeds (though architecturally it's fairly easy to tell the difference between an Islington council house and a victorian townhouse). I do not like this one little bit.

footsteps that you hear down the hall

there are few things in life that can beat being woken up with a fresh coffee and a glass of champagne. If I teach you nothing else then I will hopefully teach you this.

this weekend I have mainly been remembering that I own the Dresden Dolls Paradise dvd and being totally in awe of their live show.

I have also had an excess of wine and champagne and gritty teen movies (Brick, Mysterious Skin, Kids, Mean Creek) and a distinct lack of sleep and food. i may need to redress that balance at some point.

now back to the fucking puzzle hunt. I hate and love it so.

viral at the disco

i haven't spent all weekend online looking for puzzle pieces.

I've done other stuff too.

synchronicity

funny how your life can be completely stagnant for years, then you make one change (ok, maybe quitting your job and moving 200 miles away counts as more than one change) and suddenly stuff just...happens.

this morning's post is brought to you by Hollywood peeps, ex boyfriends, new studio techs and Dresden Dolls fans from Facebook.

My Life - so confusing right now.

there are cats or foxes or hellhounds fighting right outside my door. i know i am bigger than them (unless they are hellhounds) and that I have things like buckets of water, power tools and heavy objects with which to defend myself, yet instead of going outside to break them up, I have double locked my doors and am retiring to bed with a valium and my hands clamped well over my ears.


yes i am a coward. yes I'm ok with that.

in Soviet Russia, livejournal writes you

there are times in my life when I thank god that certain 'lifestyle choices' led me to friendslock my lj from the word go. lets hear it for online paranoia!

tonight is champagne night dahling. well every night is champagne night, but tonight is 'champagne with the beautiful Jezzie' night. i will be a nightmare vision in turquoise and drink Kir Royales until the room spins. bad photos on facebook tomorrow i expect.

until then I have a missing boy, a pile of Umbrella Academy, diet coke and vegan marshmallows and Viva la Cobra to keep me entertained.

a plus tard bitches

xx

sing me a lullaby, William Beckett

this week, to drown out the dulcet sounds of Islington-at-night, I have been falling asleep with The Academy Is... on my stereo. Such are the acoustics of my room and the production values of Santi that it sounds oddly intimate as I drift off to oblivion. Lord only knows what subliminal evil William is implanting as I dream.

in other news I am Pretty. Excited about Pretty. Odd. and when I say pretty excited, that's only because I'm trying to be clever with the name and all. I'm actually stupidly excited and trying to figure out how many shows I can see on the inevitable UK tour (Hi, Honda Civic Tour - cross the Atlantic?please?).

only 12 hours late on posting this

Skins II trailer now on Myspace

are we excited girls and boys?

yes we are....

lula is to cool what X is to Y

regular people read Roget's thesaurus like a book too don't they? hoppity-skipping from word to word is a legitimate way to spend an evening when you're young and cool and have a trendy flat in Islington? right? Guys, right?

well screw you then, at least I know more ways to describe my geekitude now :-)

signed, sealed, delicious

Top of my list of interesting post this morning is a hand customised postcard of Jared Leto - he now wears a surley expression and a glittery scarf - bless him (and the lovely little girl who made him glittery for me). I also love illustrators for the hand painted christmas cards.
Nearing the bottom of the list is a letter from the bank gently reminding me that it isn't really possible to pay your way through the world with sunshine and glitter and a winning smile. I keep hoping though.

and it's a fresh start, a new spark, a new way of breaking my own heart

let the records show that on this, the first (not the second, January 1st is the second part of New Year's Eve) day of 2008 your heroine had a raging hangover and resigned from a perfectly sensible job that a million girls would kill to have in order to chase rainbows.

she also wrote lyrics on the tube and listened to We're So Starving overandoverandover...