Ugh, I had another regeneration trauma dream. The good news is the Master was there. That's pretty much all the good news, however, as what he was doing was horrible - and the rest of it dissolved into weird vignettes involving the Sycorax, Lytton (deceased) and HUNDREDS of Raston Warrior robots. The worst thing about bad dreams is they make me wake up in a foul mood. I never really escape from dreams until lunchtime, so the tone and content of dreams tend to influence me for the rest of the day. I've had some dreams which have made me awake refreshed and brilliant too, so it's not all bad.
But as a result, I'm feeling miserable and grouchy for no good reason, except for the fact I had a rotten dream. Which is rather unfair. I'm probably quite tired too. Last night I was up too too late, arguing Trial of a Timelord with my Doctor Who blog, and then was distracted until about 3 because Vapilla has leant me her Sandman collection (I've traded them for a hairdryer, Marvel 1602, a beaver pelt and a few glass beads). Both these activities were very enjoyable, but it's probably contributing to my foul temper.
And over the weekend, I stayed up pretty late for Eurovision. Vapilla and I went to Roxana's house to see it and slept over. Great fun - we had a nice Iranian dish the name of which I forget and mocked the entries. I can't believe UK got that many points. It's meant to be a song contest, and whatever that was lacked structure, style, I couldn't even work out how many beats to a bar. Just weird.
It was bizzarely ordinary for Eurovision. There were three costume changes the entire night, and only five key changes. I was cheering on Medea and her sister from Armenia, Miss Doriana Gray of Russia with her changing portrait, and the only one I'd listen to a second time was Germany's, who you might recall featuring the talents of Dita Von Teese. But mourned the absence of the customary nutjob entry - where were the transvestite air hostesses? Where the appallingly misjudged 80s throwback? Where the postmodern piss take? I have rather acute talents at mockery, but the only one who actually deserved it was Mr Greece, the enthusiastic man-ho in white with the dance movies, and Miss Iceland - "Is this a dream? Or has it been a lie? What time is my dentist appointment? Did I leave the kettle on?"
Roxane was Ishtar that evening, and Vapilla Morpheus in the morning. I was just me, more or less, but I did do some excellent doodles. As usual, all efforts to capture the images in my mind - all L.A. Confidential. They weren't very successful, but I did a passable Sherlock Holmes and then some gorgeous profiles of Lord M. It was a fun evening.
Before my month's travelcard runs out, I'm going to return all my library books in the city and go on a hunt for a new Tarot deck. They're so beautiful and I want to get one which inspires me more. It's an associative art, so if the one you has doesn't inspire you with meaningful associations then you're a little stumped. I love my Lord of the Rings pack - it was a gift from a friend, I've had it for a long time and it seems to have "positive vibes" for me. But ever since starting learning, I've had to assign all the cards with Doctor Who associations - the type of memorable connections I feel their LOTR approach lacks. I'm actually working on art for it too, which is fun. Until that's finished, however, I want something which will trigger memory of the meanings easily, something with inspiring art, and preferably something all pseudo-mystickal. As much as I admire the Baseball Tarot or Barbie Tarot, they're not so great for impressing people with your arcane, occult majesty. Also, I want some of those Barbies...Having said that, I adore the Housewive's Tarot...I'm also tempted by the B.O.T.A. set. It comes in black and white, with colouring instructions, and in colouring them they take on more of your energies. Cute theory. Also, colouring in! I'm heartened by the fact all proper New Age shops will be sympathetic to my obsessive browsing: naturally, I have to find one which "speaks" to me, which will excuse the problem I have with making choices.
I'm trying to combine this in such a way that I'm on the Strand at 7:30, where hopefully I'll be able to find the Spring Awakening songbook for sale at the Novello. She's a huge fan of the musical, I just like the music, so we both want the music book. I'm buying it to coincide with her birthday. If it were mine, I could take it to uni and she couldn't prevent me. Were it hers, she could keep it at home and I'd be similarly powerless. Neither is wholly fair, hence why I'm not either buying it for me or her. I hope this approach kills any arguments.
The rest of the day will be dedicated to starting my A-Team essay, beginning to learn Greek, watching Batman and Robin and completing my mini-Rorschachs. I want to see that film because the worst film I've ever seen is Batman Forever. Yet more than one person, on hearing this, has responded "So, you haven't seen Batman and Robin...?" I'll finish Maurice if I feel up to it, but a tragic ending must surely beckon.
I'm sure no one will sympathise, but it's weird getting used to having this much free time...
But as a result, I'm feeling miserable and grouchy for no good reason, except for the fact I had a rotten dream. Which is rather unfair. I'm probably quite tired too. Last night I was up too too late, arguing Trial of a Timelord with my Doctor Who blog, and then was distracted until about 3 because Vapilla has leant me her Sandman collection (I've traded them for a hairdryer, Marvel 1602, a beaver pelt and a few glass beads). Both these activities were very enjoyable, but it's probably contributing to my foul temper.
And over the weekend, I stayed up pretty late for Eurovision. Vapilla and I went to Roxana's house to see it and slept over. Great fun - we had a nice Iranian dish the name of which I forget and mocked the entries. I can't believe UK got that many points. It's meant to be a song contest, and whatever that was lacked structure, style, I couldn't even work out how many beats to a bar. Just weird.
It was bizzarely ordinary for Eurovision. There were three costume changes the entire night, and only five key changes. I was cheering on Medea and her sister from Armenia, Miss Doriana Gray of Russia with her changing portrait, and the only one I'd listen to a second time was Germany's, who you might recall featuring the talents of Dita Von Teese. But mourned the absence of the customary nutjob entry - where were the transvestite air hostesses? Where the appallingly misjudged 80s throwback? Where the postmodern piss take? I have rather acute talents at mockery, but the only one who actually deserved it was Mr Greece, the enthusiastic man-ho in white with the dance movies, and Miss Iceland - "Is this a dream? Or has it been a lie? What time is my dentist appointment? Did I leave the kettle on?"
Roxane was Ishtar that evening, and Vapilla Morpheus in the morning. I was just me, more or less, but I did do some excellent doodles. As usual, all efforts to capture the images in my mind - all L.A. Confidential. They weren't very successful, but I did a passable Sherlock Holmes and then some gorgeous profiles of Lord M. It was a fun evening.
Before my month's travelcard runs out, I'm going to return all my library books in the city and go on a hunt for a new Tarot deck. They're so beautiful and I want to get one which inspires me more. It's an associative art, so if the one you has doesn't inspire you with meaningful associations then you're a little stumped. I love my Lord of the Rings pack - it was a gift from a friend, I've had it for a long time and it seems to have "positive vibes" for me. But ever since starting learning, I've had to assign all the cards with Doctor Who associations - the type of memorable connections I feel their LOTR approach lacks. I'm actually working on art for it too, which is fun. Until that's finished, however, I want something which will trigger memory of the meanings easily, something with inspiring art, and preferably something all pseudo-mystickal. As much as I admire the Baseball Tarot or Barbie Tarot, they're not so great for impressing people with your arcane, occult majesty. Also, I want some of those Barbies...Having said that, I adore the Housewive's Tarot...I'm also tempted by the B.O.T.A. set. It comes in black and white, with colouring instructions, and in colouring them they take on more of your energies. Cute theory. Also, colouring in! I'm heartened by the fact all proper New Age shops will be sympathetic to my obsessive browsing: naturally, I have to find one which "speaks" to me, which will excuse the problem I have with making choices.
I'm trying to combine this in such a way that I'm on the Strand at 7:30, where hopefully I'll be able to find the Spring Awakening songbook for sale at the Novello. She's a huge fan of the musical, I just like the music, so we both want the music book. I'm buying it to coincide with her birthday. If it were mine, I could take it to uni and she couldn't prevent me. Were it hers, she could keep it at home and I'd be similarly powerless. Neither is wholly fair, hence why I'm not either buying it for me or her. I hope this approach kills any arguments.
The rest of the day will be dedicated to starting my A-Team essay, beginning to learn Greek, watching Batman and Robin and completing my mini-Rorschachs. I want to see that film because the worst film I've ever seen is Batman Forever. Yet more than one person, on hearing this, has responded "So, you haven't seen Batman and Robin...?" I'll finish Maurice if I feel up to it, but a tragic ending must surely beckon.
I'm sure no one will sympathise, but it's weird getting used to having this much free time...
Comments (0)