Friday, March 20, 2009
ONLY SO EAGER TO PLEASE
I just thought it extremely funny that pastry chef pierre herme has this up on his wall at home (from the Selby). I hope that when I 'make it' I don't start framing manuscripts and Hanif Kureishi's latest novels.
You know what else I find funny? That I just realised that I mentioned style.com (the home of Vogue) in a Tatler interview. That explains the dead air between us all these past weeks. Luckily, I don't look back when it comes to these fashion mag jokers, and am fast on the back of some other editor.
This day so far has been a series of diversions. Forever trying to avoid this Business of Writing essay, I fooled myself into believing that going to Starbucks for breakfast would give me that needed stamp of approval to get on with the day's tasks. So I left the house (can I add, looking like shit?)
Policeman: Please walk some other way ma'am. This is a crime scene.
(story of my neighbourhood)
Me: Excuse me, where are we going?
Busdriver: This bus has been diverted, ma'am.
Me: Are you not telling me where we're going because you've hijacked the bus and are luring us all to our deaths? I'm the youngest person on here and Dazed and Confused just told me they might give me some work experience, which means, I'm at the start of something here. Can I get off?
(haha- not really. but the busdriver SO didn't tell us the route changed, not that all the placid smiling geriatrics even noticed - for some reason our university is smack in the middle of a haven for old/chavvy/lunatic people)
Anyways, regardless of the route change, there's a Starbucks practically stationed outside every bus stop in town, so lucky me. Unlucky for everybody else. This bus diverted and chose to ignore the entire Dover House Road due to road works. And Dover House Road is disgustingly long, dude....And for some reason, only old people live on it. And for some reason, this bus is the ONLY bus that travels up and down it. And for some reason this road ONLY has houses on it; not one little shop, so it's like they give all these old people freedom passes to use for the bus but make sure they have to keep using the fuck out of it. Is it some kind of higher plan to keep London's old people on the go and out of our hair quicker due to heart failure? I don't know...stay tuned...
Got my iced chai tea latte and granola bar (<---this shit is good), home now, went back outside to see if checking for mail at the front desk would make me motivated when I got back inside. Didn't. Blogging? We'll see. But I doubt it. Facebook had nothing new for me by the time I came back, so I'm thinking I should take a nap to give it some time to gather a couple notifications and a message from my boyfriend maybe...all of which may or may not cheer me up/motivate me to open up that dreaded essay document.
Reviewing a bar/club in Richmond tonight and may meet some friends there. This job really is a double-edged sword. I get paid to go out but who wants to leave the house when you look and feel like Satan's asshole? There are just some nights when you know no guys are gonna approach you and offer to buy you drinks. Tonight is gonna be one, thus forcing me to open my wallet for a change. And then you know what? Compensation I get for reviewing the bar would only be me getting back the money I had to spend on my own goddamned drinks.
You know what else is a double-edged sword? Blogging. It's liberating, it gets all the toxic junk out of the membrane, it may or may not be writing practice and build my confidence as a writer, but then someone's just gonna come along and say 'hey, I read your blog and...' and then you go through the last couple posts you wrote, picturing them at home reading it, and it just...all comes crashing down. Like oh my god...why are you reading about my love for bondage, acquaintance? The last time you saw me I wore a frilly top and smiled bashfully. On a more serious disadvantage, I could never get a job with a magazine in this town ever again, the way I go slashing them to shreds on here. Luckily, I don't plan to be a part of this town for much longer.
For some reason Panda goes ballistic when I say it (because he takes it personally) but today I hate my life (sorry, luv).