Pez uploaded Adobe InDesign suit onto Chris' computer so we're in business.
Our first order: buying Chris a spring jacket. How I love to dress people i.e. I am the one picking it out. And this is something that he cannot call into question. From time to time Chris likes to question my authority on things such as buses, tube lines, location of places/things, and if you know me, I don't argue unless I know for a certain fact that it's correct so when I boast to him that I know where something is, which strong conviction and great confidence, I do. He however questions it and has to find out for himself, only to realize that yes, I was right all along.
But I digress. I am finding him a shorter black trench and he shouldn't call into question my impecable taste.
Big things are happening!
Wednesday, 28 February 2007
Monday, 26 February 2007
Milk---an updated updated update
We as predicted are friends again again.
My cold however is becoming progressively worse and worse.
My cold however is becoming progressively worse and worse.
Milk---an updated update
We're back in a fight.
Oh man!! We both need jobs asap.
The fact that we keep getting into fights and the fact that I can do live up to the minute coverage of them is very bad.
Very, very bad.
Oh man!! We both need jobs asap.
The fact that we keep getting into fights and the fact that I can do live up to the minute coverage of them is very bad.
Very, very bad.
Milk---an update
We're frends again. Everything is cool.
We love each other.
I can definitely feel a cold coming on.
We love each other.
I can definitely feel a cold coming on.
Milk
Too tired. I stayed up until 5:30am GMT watching the Oscars streamed online.
Brilliant discovery?
Yes!
Reprocutions?
Unfortunately!
It now appears that Chris can watch Premiership (i.e. soccer in England) matches on here which means I'll be watching a lot of football.
And he's currently watching Fox News (which like Canadians, the British find horrific and acknowledge it is not a good source of news) which is doing a feature on a girl who won't stop hiccuping. My life is spiraling out of control.
In other news, this week I am going to write editors of teen magazines and try to start soemwhere with this writing. I read this awful article in Grazia magazine. It's Britain's No. 1 Weekly Glossy...this caused some dispute over dinner last night because it's perhaps the only one. Anyway, there was an article on WAGs, i.e. wives and girlfriends of football players, and this woman who wanted to be one because of the posh clothes, fancy cars, exclusive parties. It wasn't ironic. It wasn't even suposed to be tragic. This is what she believed and she'll change everything about her appearance to get what she wants. I think I'll start there, writing some sort of counter article to this one, which is something I did throughout university especially in my Women's Studies class, (who would have guessed I had taken one?).
After having typed all of that, Chris kept trying to talk to me about this Italian adverts or tele something or other and I asked him to now disturb me right now and he stormed out of the room like I didn't care about his passions. This channel is going to curse us.
One last bit. Jess, I want to say thank you for reading and if you read the past blogs and come across the one about our tentative magazine idea and have any ideas for something to write, email me!
Another side note: Chris came back in, clean t shirt in hand. Pissed off. Sprayed deodorant. Isn't speaking. Putting on a clean jumper. Not making eye contact. Fixing his hair. Checking his mobile. Still not speaking. Not looking at me either. Checking out the wardrobe. Left the room.
Today is going to be amazing!
Brilliant discovery?
Yes!
Reprocutions?
Unfortunately!
It now appears that Chris can watch Premiership (i.e. soccer in England) matches on here which means I'll be watching a lot of football.
And he's currently watching Fox News (which like Canadians, the British find horrific and acknowledge it is not a good source of news) which is doing a feature on a girl who won't stop hiccuping. My life is spiraling out of control.
In other news, this week I am going to write editors of teen magazines and try to start soemwhere with this writing. I read this awful article in Grazia magazine. It's Britain's No. 1 Weekly Glossy...this caused some dispute over dinner last night because it's perhaps the only one. Anyway, there was an article on WAGs, i.e. wives and girlfriends of football players, and this woman who wanted to be one because of the posh clothes, fancy cars, exclusive parties. It wasn't ironic. It wasn't even suposed to be tragic. This is what she believed and she'll change everything about her appearance to get what she wants. I think I'll start there, writing some sort of counter article to this one, which is something I did throughout university especially in my Women's Studies class, (who would have guessed I had taken one?).
After having typed all of that, Chris kept trying to talk to me about this Italian adverts or tele something or other and I asked him to now disturb me right now and he stormed out of the room like I didn't care about his passions. This channel is going to curse us.
One last bit. Jess, I want to say thank you for reading and if you read the past blogs and come across the one about our tentative magazine idea and have any ideas for something to write, email me!
Another side note: Chris came back in, clean t shirt in hand. Pissed off. Sprayed deodorant. Isn't speaking. Putting on a clean jumper. Not making eye contact. Fixing his hair. Checking his mobile. Still not speaking. Not looking at me either. Checking out the wardrobe. Left the room.
Today is going to be amazing!
Sunday, 25 February 2007
Fresh
Yet another grey day in the country's capital. I'm being brought to the Baring Pub to watch Carling Cup final: Arsenal vs. Chelsea. I'm not that bothered by both going, but the match itself.
Last night a bunch of friends and I made plans to lash, but when it came down to it, everyone was tired, old and unshowered. So Chris and I watched C.S.I. instead, then Twelve Monkeys then Chris finally beat the
Fishy Game
Also in the span of the evening I turned my friend Martin on to C.S.I even though he claims to be unimpressed, he just needs to try a bit harder!
And yes, I still do and will always have to run through the opening credits.
Tonight is the Oscars and in breaking in tradition (it being getting dressed up and eating KFC for my yearly binge) I am watching online at 1:00am in my pjs drinking tea most likely. I'm sure that Chris and I will countlessly quote Forest Whitacker in Last King of Scotland. "But you did not persuade me Nicholas". Amazing film and superb performance. If the Queen wins best picture, I'm sure Chris will be forced to react the same way he did when Ireland crushed England in the rugby last night. Sofa punching. Pig Off! being shouted from his lips
(what does that even mean??)
Last night a bunch of friends and I made plans to lash, but when it came down to it, everyone was tired, old and unshowered. So Chris and I watched C.S.I. instead, then Twelve Monkeys then Chris finally beat the
Fishy Game
Also in the span of the evening I turned my friend Martin on to C.S.I even though he claims to be unimpressed, he just needs to try a bit harder!
And yes, I still do and will always have to run through the opening credits.
Tonight is the Oscars and in breaking in tradition (it being getting dressed up and eating KFC for my yearly binge) I am watching online at 1:00am in my pjs drinking tea most likely. I'm sure that Chris and I will countlessly quote Forest Whitacker in Last King of Scotland. "But you did not persuade me Nicholas". Amazing film and superb performance. If the Queen wins best picture, I'm sure Chris will be forced to react the same way he did when Ireland crushed England in the rugby last night. Sofa punching. Pig Off! being shouted from his lips
(what does that even mean??)
Friday, 23 February 2007
Mouse Trap
I'm not really an argumentative girl. I have my moments.
Ex-boyfriend used to tease me because he would catch me looking at my feet (they're one of my nicest features). I would never argue that.
Another ex-boyfriend sent me this video today because we had a solid three month long argument that this video, in his opinion is real, and in mine, it's CGI. Always will and forever argue that point.
Boyfriend and I rarely argue if ever. He's British and passive. I'm still quite shy around him.
Sister came to visit with her boyfriend and a friend and we got into our worst argument today. I've felt horrible all day long. I will continue to feel horrible tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.
I don't have an underlying moral to this story. As with anyone I "know" when I'm right and when I'm wrong. It's billowing frustration mixed with some sort of self-righteous cordial. I suppose I fight because I care and I don't fight because care.
Boyfriend is cooking dinner right now. Tonight we'll watch Twelve Monkeys and have two hours worth of pillow chat. I guess this is my non-argumentative way of saying that I clearly if not obviously adore him to no end. Exponentionally happy in that way. Deflated nearly every other way.
Ex-boyfriend used to tease me because he would catch me looking at my feet (they're one of my nicest features). I would never argue that.
Another ex-boyfriend sent me this video today because we had a solid three month long argument that this video, in his opinion is real, and in mine, it's CGI. Always will and forever argue that point.
Boyfriend and I rarely argue if ever. He's British and passive. I'm still quite shy around him.
Sister came to visit with her boyfriend and a friend and we got into our worst argument today. I've felt horrible all day long. I will continue to feel horrible tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.
I don't have an underlying moral to this story. As with anyone I "know" when I'm right and when I'm wrong. It's billowing frustration mixed with some sort of self-righteous cordial. I suppose I fight because I care and I don't fight because care.
Boyfriend is cooking dinner right now. Tonight we'll watch Twelve Monkeys and have two hours worth of pillow chat. I guess this is my non-argumentative way of saying that I clearly if not obviously adore him to no end. Exponentionally happy in that way. Deflated nearly every other way.
Wednesday, 21 February 2007
Mice like cheese too
I just had an overwhelmingly terrifying experience.
It's a normal Wednesday here. Sunny. Warmer than Ontario. I'm sitting at the table in the lounge, minding my own business when Christopher comes down and gathers up his wash. A few details to add: two architects live in this house and they build models. This fact comes in handy in a minute.
Whilst gathering up his wash, Christopher grabs hold of a loose thread that is attached to a spool of thread used in making models for architecture. He proceeds to walk, unravelling this spool of thread that is now twirling on the hard wood floor. At that exact moment I started to lean to one side of the chair, believing that it was myself who was creating this weird creeky noise. I look at the floor whilst I lean back and forth from my chair. But I stop leaning however the noise continues. I cannot see the twirling, unravelling spool of thread. I start to assume perhaps a mouse is playing with something underneath the table.
Christopher then reaches his room which is two sets of stairs up and the spool of thread darts at me and I yell for him! I think it's the mouse throwing something at me. I put my feet up on another seat and Christopher yells and tells me to look under the table but I am too afraid. As Christopher walks downstairs to see if there is a little beast horrifying an immature 22 year old female, he realizes that there is thread leading all the way to his bedroom and starts to pull it thus allowing the aforementioned girl to see that it was just thread being pulled all along.
The two wind the thread back up and continue on with their day. The boy folds his laundry. But the girl's hands proceed to shake.
It's a normal Wednesday here. Sunny. Warmer than Ontario. I'm sitting at the table in the lounge, minding my own business when Christopher comes down and gathers up his wash. A few details to add: two architects live in this house and they build models. This fact comes in handy in a minute.
Whilst gathering up his wash, Christopher grabs hold of a loose thread that is attached to a spool of thread used in making models for architecture. He proceeds to walk, unravelling this spool of thread that is now twirling on the hard wood floor. At that exact moment I started to lean to one side of the chair, believing that it was myself who was creating this weird creeky noise. I look at the floor whilst I lean back and forth from my chair. But I stop leaning however the noise continues. I cannot see the twirling, unravelling spool of thread. I start to assume perhaps a mouse is playing with something underneath the table.
Christopher then reaches his room which is two sets of stairs up and the spool of thread darts at me and I yell for him! I think it's the mouse throwing something at me. I put my feet up on another seat and Christopher yells and tells me to look under the table but I am too afraid. As Christopher walks downstairs to see if there is a little beast horrifying an immature 22 year old female, he realizes that there is thread leading all the way to his bedroom and starts to pull it thus allowing the aforementioned girl to see that it was just thread being pulled all along.
The two wind the thread back up and continue on with their day. The boy folds his laundry. But the girl's hands proceed to shake.
Houloumi (maybe?)
Tonight was Shrove (Pancake) Tuesday and we had houloumi with our bacon and crepes. Decadence at its finest.
We have developed the idea of this magazine further and are sort of running with the idea of a "chill out, your band isn't that great" idea. Mainly because here in the UK, the radio, NME, people in general go bananas for bands that yes are alright but aren't the most amazing piece of music to confront us in the past 30 years. Take for instance Klaxons. Good-sort of. Longivity? Unlikely. New Rave. Whatevs.
I'm obviously not very elequent right now seeing as it's past midnight and I'm fatigued. I am however happy to feel this burst of inspiration and creativity and I know ultimately that I need to get my half decent written malarky out there instead of this silly bollocks but either or is fun and maybe a way to hone one's craft? The modern medium I suppose is important such as a blog. Much like a sonnet in poetry (it's not a modern medium or facet of literature...what the hell am I talking about?)
I'm being far too self aware. Time for beddy bies.
We have developed the idea of this magazine further and are sort of running with the idea of a "chill out, your band isn't that great" idea. Mainly because here in the UK, the radio, NME, people in general go bananas for bands that yes are alright but aren't the most amazing piece of music to confront us in the past 30 years. Take for instance Klaxons. Good-sort of. Longivity? Unlikely. New Rave. Whatevs.
I'm obviously not very elequent right now seeing as it's past midnight and I'm fatigued. I am however happy to feel this burst of inspiration and creativity and I know ultimately that I need to get my half decent written malarky out there instead of this silly bollocks but either or is fun and maybe a way to hone one's craft? The modern medium I suppose is important such as a blog. Much like a sonnet in poetry (it's not a modern medium or facet of literature...what the hell am I talking about?)
I'm being far too self aware. Time for beddy bies.
Monday, 19 February 2007
Goat's
I am currently eating a Mars bar, looking for a job. Life continued on after the CSI debacle. Thankfully Chris and I could watch the finale of the episode and all is resolved again in my world of materials and television shows.
Chris is hard at work looking for work experience, parusing through the book of publishers and high-lighting the ones he thinks will suit him best. I spent a better portion of today looking through online magazines and seeking out ways to submit works.
The conclusion I came to was that Chris and I have a bountiful number of resources including two housemates who are in architecture and know a great deal about design, Chris needs editorial practice and experience, and I can write, photograph and style all sorts of goodies. Thus Christopher and I are going to collaborate on something web-based. It's not solely for CV purposes but it can't hurt. More details to follow and obviously more brainstorming will have to ensue but I think it's a positive step in the right direction.
I've been feeling very demoralized by the London job scene. On top of that, I've lacked any sort of creative drive so I feel this is a wonderful burst of inspiration and I hope it's not a pipe dream!
Any thoughts?
Chris is hard at work looking for work experience, parusing through the book of publishers and high-lighting the ones he thinks will suit him best. I spent a better portion of today looking through online magazines and seeking out ways to submit works.
The conclusion I came to was that Chris and I have a bountiful number of resources including two housemates who are in architecture and know a great deal about design, Chris needs editorial practice and experience, and I can write, photograph and style all sorts of goodies. Thus Christopher and I are going to collaborate on something web-based. It's not solely for CV purposes but it can't hurt. More details to follow and obviously more brainstorming will have to ensue but I think it's a positive step in the right direction.
I've been feeling very demoralized by the London job scene. On top of that, I've lacked any sort of creative drive so I feel this is a wonderful burst of inspiration and I hope it's not a pipe dream!
Any thoughts?
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