off to London: i can haz happy new year?

i'm so not gonna recap this year, mainly since it'd be too depressing and anyway, i'm actually in a rush, but thanks to everyone who left me alone when i asked, especially those whose paths mistakenly crossed mine.


it really means a lot to me, to fade away whenever the mood strikes and i do appreciate when people back off and just let me be.



as well, BIG thanks to Christine, Chris, Mark, Chris M, Marianne, Jake and Boudicca for emotional support and -- dare i say it? why the hell not? -- psychiatric help, especially the late-night, very early in the morning kind, when we're on the phone and i cry and shit and don't let anyone hang up or anything.


LOL, i owe you, guyz (but you're gonna have big trouble getting me to pay youse back).


right, the one New Year's resolution i made a year ago -- being nice to those i totally ignored before -- paid off in spades and i'm so pleased i did it. being in an esoteric frame of mind *snigger* i'm not naming names, apart from saying they're all musicians. and not so surprisingly, since it worked for me, and so much so, i'm recycling it again this year. :-)


anyway, i'm off to London, first to meet Chris and later on, Mark, and hopefully, at the very least, touch base with the rest of the Brixton Posse, so Happy New Year. *to self* LOL, 'I wannit to be ovuh, awreddy' *in an Uncle Junior voice* KTHXBAI!

O Hai, Dave!

just because i'm such a nice guy, i didn't embarrass you (more) over here, since i can do it way better right here. anyway, 2 things: a) i totally didn't make these next (in all troof, i think you yourself made a couple) and b) i successfully held myself back from posting them on ur biffday thread, out of respect or sumpin'. LOL, as usual, you can thank me later, KTHXBAI! (all photos taken surreptitiously.)

so here's Kitteh-Dave one recent evening:


as the night wore on, he became -- shall we say? -- adamant.


LOL, he even raised his voice.


then paused to reflect for a moment.


and decided to switch to (excuse the term) 'cocktails'. *wack*


after last call on that fateful night, he stubbornly vowed to keep on keeping on.


until the morning arrived, after an historic all-night bender, when he found himself totally enjoying the great outdoors.


Kitteh-Dave went to A Meeting.


those of us still conscious were totally bored by his stunning admission.


The End, cause i'm totally out of teh drunken kitteh, waaaaah! but i made this from a hungover doggeh:


HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAVE. xoxoxoxoxoxox

i totally didn't make these

nor this one either:


LOL, Punkt, Ende -- that is all. :-)

keep those christmas lights on in my head *snigger*

oh wow, it's the first sentence of all my little Victorian fantasies. ;-) well, not 'It were a dark n stormie nite', but the original, my totally fave worn-out old stage-setting cliché, thanks to the genius of Edward Bulwer-Lytton: 'It was a dark and stormy night'. in this incarnation, as told by teh kitteh, it's even more evocative and IMO brilliant. :-)

'...The phrase itself is now understood as a signifier of a certain broad style of writing, characterized by a self-serious attempt at dramatic flair, the imitation of formulaic styles, an extravagantly florid style, redundancies, and run-on sentences...'

HAH! oops, rather: 'guilty as charged, yer honor'. *cough* this is me glossing over the reference to Victorian fantasies above cause something akin to this got me in trouble with Freebase a few weeks back (which's how Slumbelina was born and no, i won't link to her again). but in all truth, yes -- i most certainly do have Victorian fantasies (we won't mention the subsequent braindrain) which at times... uh, spew... um, 'dressing gown' ... 'counterpane' ... *snigger* rather, 'workhouse' -- wait... dammit, lost my train of thought there (or that's what i wanna believe). ;-)

having nothing to do with any of the above (apart from yet another wack B-L imitation), i've been living here for like three and a half years now and much to my delight (and to others' dismay and dissing), i still get a charge from mundane things like hearing the wind whistle down the chimney, cause that's something i've always read about but never ever heard, until i moved here. :-)

but depending upon the time of day and the angle of the sun shining in through the windows, when the sound of the wind doesn't remind me of Dickens, i'm thinking Wuthering Heights instead. like, Cathy dreaming of Heathcliff whilst writing on the windowsill as the wind howls in the background... *sigh* but that's a story for another time, when i'm feeling ambitious, certainly not now when i totally can't see straight.

this -- how wind sounds in chimneys -- is yet another little something Brits grew up with and ignore, like they do all those centuries-old stone walls, skeleton keys that actually work and all the other traces of History casually lying around in plain sight. of course, this includes real cemeteries, something i'd only seen in films and never up close and personal -- well, not until i got here. :-)

on my birthday three years back, we were exploring our new neighborhood and found ourselves in a graveyard where Chris pet a kitty:


we weren't online yet so i hadn't begun to research the nabe, which turned out to be a very good thing (especially for Chris). later on, not only did i find we were in St Andrews Churchyard but i learnt during the Civil War (not the American one):

'...The Royalists who were defending Bristol set fire to the surrounding countryside to deny shelter and forage to the besieging Roundhead army. The few houses which Clifton had at that time were all destroyed, but the parish church of St Andrews, first mentioned in 1254, survived'...

yup, it's a good thing i didn't know the graveyard in which we were standing was over seven centuries old, cause had i known, i would've had a heart attack, and not one of the good ones, i don't think. at least, i know i would've definitely freaked and as is my wont, done so very loudly. :-o

the actual soundtrack to the grave-kitty photo (which thankfully can't be heard) went something like 'OMG! a real grave! we're actually in a real cemetery! holy shit!...' think of a loud-mouthed brat-boy who just can't STFU, and alla the ensuing blah blah blah as my non-stop logorreah went into overdrive and on and On and ON. *whispers* all together now: 'poor Chris!'

but nope, i still can't find it within to be all blasé about these things, so i just let 'em out whenever the mood strikes, as sane others cringe and pretend they don't know me. a few weeks back, Mark actually 'shushed' me on the main street of his town one night, and in all truth, i can't say i blame him. i mean, imagine someone disguised as an adult having like a public fit over some non-descript societal given to which most pass by without giving a second thought. *whispers* can you say 'certifiable'?

anyway, it all adds to the ambience here, and that boosts the emotional climate *cue 'it doesn't take much!'* and thankfully, at this time of year, instead of my view being rudely interrupted, like it is every Spring, by the annual onslaught of life-affirming Nature:


i get to see this (soz for shite photo but i was wasted when i took it):


at this time of year, the skies are white every morning, and i can see for miles and miles, all the way across Brandon Park. 's easy to space out, actually, staring at the bare landscape cause i so enjoy all the bleakness and its inherent despair; it all totally warms even the most obscure corners of my way cold cold heart. :-)

Brandon Park? white skies? WTF am i on about? *scrolls up in a panic* right, for the 4th december in a row, i'm living these carefully chosen rituals, things i've done most every Christmas since i began living on my own, but never imagined i'd be doing them in England. *preens*

i started this ages ago, in quite another lifetime, when i first saw i was indulging myself with the British influences i'd collected since childhood, trying to integrate them all in my head, in order to create my own liddle reality. and it's even more crucial now: last time i checked, Google still hadn't bothered to index the real world. *whispers* so naturally, i take that as yet another indication to avoid it at all costs.


eeewwww. *shudder* even goofing on TRW depresses me even more thanks to the accompanying anxiety... OK, calm, calm... *deep breaths* 'Stead-dyyy'... damn, i need something stronger, to (at least) temporarily divert me or (at most) make me forget. OK, found it -- big thanks to Christine for sending today's Moment of Peace and Quietude (the only bits of TRW i can handle):




peace... quietude... zzzzzzzzz *snork* zzzzzzzzz... right, it's only about once a year when i'm actually conscious of messing with reality; the other times are all spontaneous events and i'm like totally unaware of them until they're over, especially when it's time to check the damage done. anyway, i do it for a certain atmosphere, like, trying to delude myself even more... yup, 'so what else is new?'

when i think on it now, with the wind in the chimneys and the candles all lit and one of my bibles open at my side (London Life in the 18th Century), i can kind of fall into a trance, and that's the point -- to lull myself into a flavor of duh i could never find in TRW.

'From the disease-infected rookeries and teeming vice-ridden streets to the sweatshops, coffee houses and spacious parks...'

zzzzzz *yawn* uh, now where was i? right, this is the only time of year when the candles are lit night after night and i watch beloved Dickens novels come alive, thanks mostly to David Lean. and this is the only time of year i watch things like Brief Encounter, Random Harvest and the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes flicks... *yawn* *snigger* heh.

cool, i've bullshitted here long enough to meet my quota (!?!)... just realised i'm a hypocrite, actually, cause i arranged to go out in TRW in a bit, to walk up Bellevue and visit Sarah and her bunnies and sample the finest the 'hood has to offer... wait. gah! can i possibly meander any more? what am i trying to say, again? *whispers* remember Jeffrey Goines: 'Focus, focus, focus!' LOL, To Be Continued Sometime Soon (with the usual caveat: 'if i remember'). :-)

the road to Jamm is paved with good intentions

posted in an incoherent fashion Sometime Sunday Evening (despite what date above and timestamp below say). i'm trying to write down everything i can remember, in order to make some sense of my behavior but so far, it hasn't worked. great, Angie just txtd; she's having a drink with Marianne and Pam and 'Everyone is worried about you'. shit! I AM NOT WORTHY! i'm sorry. i feel really guilty, actually. i don't know what to do, if i could lie to them, i would, so people wouldn't be upset, but i can't. :-(

the road to Jamm is paved with good intentions, but later for that. for now, i gotta get these down, for the record:

fanboy: '...a male or female who pledges their lives to something trivial...' like the many issues i've taken to heart, none of which is my business but for some wack reason, i take them all personally. *cough*

'...Never coming out of the house to have a social life, fanboys will never see, touch, or smell a vagina ...unless they happen to have one...' *giggle* wait, this is me as well:

'Mac fanboys: ...Mac fanboys will kill your mother if they find out you run Windows. The only way to defeat a Mac fanboy in a nerd cred pissing contest is to tell him about your Linux machine or that you're too busy playing games on your PC, which will cause his head to explode instantly. Fortunately for everyone else, Mac users are rare...'

fangirl: '...After reaching a certain level of obsession, a fangirl becomes a completist. The condition is believed to arise from an extreme lack of teh sex ... Note that "fangirl" is not a gender-specific term; it can be applied to both men and women. The term does not denote age, either; there are plenty of fangirls (men or women) who are well into their 40s and 50s...'

keeping all the above in mind along with the Asperger's stuff, the back of beyond turned into reality the other night, for me, in my head. *wack* the weird thing was that everything was OK, more so than it sounded when i wrote last time. LOL, i'd even begun to accomplish one of my current goals: becoming an alcoholic again, for the 3rd time in my life. *proudtard* in fact things were better than OK; we were gonna see the entire band at Jamm and AFAIC, that's a dream gig come true: the full band onstage in such a small place. :-)


it didn't happen. well, it happened but not for me cause i took off before they went on and for the life of me, still can't figure out why. but at least, in my head, friday night proved without a doubt that when i'm alone, i'm not fit for public consumption and totally not in my right mind (as i said here). i'm not too happy about this, but in all truth, i do feel more comfortable here, home alone. and it's for others' protection, really. *rolls eyes* i'm telling the truth, y'know...



*singing* 'I did it myyyy way!' but it doesn't make sense, i was actually getting stoked on the way in, more so than i thought i could, txtng back and forth with Marianne, who was seething for five hours, stuck in Dublin Airport and with Mark, who was still on Planet Duh and that's where i want him. :-)

i dunno -- i was stoked and then it was gone. *wack*

when i got to the Albert on friday, Mark was at the soundcheck so apart from talking to Pablo, Neil and Ivor (The Other One, not The Engine Driver), i didn't spend much time there and went up to Chris' to dump my bags. funnily enough, i couldn't turn the heat on but that's a moan for another time.

Mark (who's done it before) couldn't be arsed to leave Jamm and the party the soundcheck turned into. LOL, about which he can deny from today till tomorrow but i always get my gossip, rather, i always get my info straight from the source itself: in this case, two sources (each on opposite ends of the spectrum, so to speak). *snigger* anyway, i stand by what i said: first it was a soundcheck and then it was a party. :-)

anyway, i sat there in the cold, Mark: LOL, I SAT THERE IN THE COLD! (but still in good spirits) then Pam came by and we went off for dinner at Gyoza. like 2 minutes later, Jake bopped in (with two of the Alabama 3 technical crew) and sat down with us. then he totally killed us with his way on-the-money impressions of various sub-strata of typical Americana. i took this next as he was leaving cause i didn't wanna slip into fanboy mode, in front of him yet again. *snigger* yup, pic's shite, but when all hope is gone, it'll serve to remind me of that dinner or something when, y'know, my memory's gone, along with the hope.


i dunno... dunno what my matter is. *wack* i had a lovely time at dinner with Pam and the very unexpected Jake. then he took off, we finished eating and went on to the Albert. things were still good, i saw shitloads of people i haven't seen in ages like Rich and Sarah, Sarah J, The Other Ivor, Mr Pixie, Angie, Stevie (thanks, Librarian of Love *kiss*), Pam, Ruby, Fluffy, Debs, Jim and Marianne, Milton, Kevin, The Other Mark... and everyone else whose names i forget. *wack* they're some of the many i think about when i'm gone, wondering what they're up to and hoping they're good. i ended up hanging with Angie and Pam mostly and had a good, really long talk with Fluffy about Things In General, such a treat to see her after so long. :-)

so, i dunno where it all went wrong. my head was OK, up to a point, and where drinking didn't do it, the gifting of chemicals certainly did -- up to a point. we all took off for Jamm right before midnight where i finally got to see Mark up close and personal, LOL. but i dunno; i began to feel uncomfortable as soon as we got inside... i think it might have something to do with so many people there. *wack* something that really never bugged me before. :-(

at the beginning of the week, Angie suggested it could be social anxiety disorder. but i wasn't feeling particularly anxious, especially compared to other times when i knew i suffered it. unless they're not being literal with their use of 'anxious' and i am... shit, this happens a lot. *sigh* anyway, right before i split, i remember thinking, 'i'd rather be home with a book or a film'... *wack*

after i actually thought that, i got a taxi right back to Chris', froze my ass off whilst thwooping my head off, answered mails, moaned to Christine and Chris M (thanks, guyz), then got undressed and bundled up in layers of Techie-Boy's T-shirts, took a Sandman and my pipe and slipped under a mountain of blankets. i ended up pretty cosy, actually (as long as i stayed in bed). just remembered: that's when the MD&c kicked in... but that's enough of that for now. ;-)

right, um, big thanks to Mark for the downstairs bracelet; too bad i wasn't happy enough to enjoy it. :-( and for saying all that really nice stuff yesterday AM. :-) and to Boudicca @3AM and Angie, Stevie, Pam and Marianne for being there; it really makes a difference, knowing youse are. :-)


d00dz! i'm really very sorry. i STILL dunno either but all i can say is thanks for enabling me cause if it weren't for youse, i dunno where i'd be now... but enough speculation, KTHXBAI! :-)

off to London *sigh*

the back of beyond: 'a lonely, forsaken place' (thanks, Alma). when she first said, it was like a lightbulb went on in my head, in total recognition, but that's enough of that for now cause despite what it may seem, i'm actually trying to get into the Christmas spirit. so far, it's not working, but that never kept me from trying. :-(


to add to the festivities, the hits just keep on coming, cause i really feel like i've been virtually battered and bruised from this week alone, and it's not over yet. as an aside, please notice me not accusing others of abandonment (and hold that thought).

anyway, the worst bummer is, it's totally affected my downtime: usually, when i'm off to London, i'm like nearing hilarity and in total spoing mode but this time... well, to say i'm not looking forward to this liddle visit would be the understatement of the year. what really put a damper (hah! 'a damper') on everything began last weekend after i told Mark: '...txt if u wanna talk whenever tonight, i'm in very good spirits...' and the next day when he wanted to talk, i very foolishly put him off: 'WUTM like 5 minutes ago, i have 2 get used 2 reality again...'

in truth, i'd been looking forward to actually talking to him in meatspace on the landline, and my burning questions and such were the least of which reasons i just hadda say. *sigh* anyway, as these things go, about ten minutes after i sent the above, reality once again intruded, totally messing up last sunday and foreshadowing this week's edition of my incredibly joyous Christmas spirit.


*mirthless laughter* thanks a lot, Sod... that didn't take long. |-( i totally won't go into particulars here; suffice it to say, when Sod burst in, i remembered the very foolish (and, as it turned out, arrogant) 'i'm in good spirits' sent the night before. then i LMAO and txtd it back to him again in a 'see, Mark? i toldja so' kinda way. hmmpf... *grumble*

anyway, tomorrow i'm off to London again, riding the (hopefully) tail end of this week of horror, for what will be my Shortest Visit Ever (Shame Train hits Victoria about 16,20 and i'm back here saturday night).


i know, i know... *shakes head in digust* above LOL Kitteh is so my right mind and i know i'm just succumbing to the normal gloom and doom (maybe a drop worse due to Christmas and this week of tears), but still... i can't help it. i could never pretend to be having a good time like others seem to so easily do. anyway, i plan to sneak into and outta town as fast as i can, and that's totally not me apart from when i'm like practically suicidally depressed: when i'm way too bummed to socialise with ANYone, no matter how much i think i really love them (when in my right mind). *sigh*


it's especially wack, that i still feel like this, cause Chris, the sweetheart, left me his flat (!) along with his machine (!), to crash in whenever (! the flat not the machine) while he's in the States. but when i'm like this, i can't think of any other place i'd rather be than here -- hiding, i mean, home with Hunter. :-)


um... thanks, Babe, for everything and i'm so sorry (and feel way guilty) that i really can't enjoy anything now. this latest free-floating depression's been hanging over me for like weeks already but this week was the worst, topped off by all the phoney Christmas cheer outside, wherever i go, like a prison from which i can't escape. and it all hit home to the worst degree with the last txt Chris sent from Gatwick yesterday: 'Boarding now'. bummer.

right, Chris is gone and Mark might as well be too since he's totally off on Planet Duh, busy being all happy and shit. 'disgustingly happy' as someone who should know remarked this morning... *whispers* but all of that means less time for me. so all i can do is wallow in isolation here, wanting, nay needing a human to moan to and coming up totally emptyhanded. :-(


LOL, wait... shit! um, yes, Mark dude, of course i'm pleased for you; as i said before, i sure hope i don't frighten her off by my enthusiasm or spoing or whatever (how those more connected to reality see me: 'demented old groupie'). anyway, Happy is where you deserve to be, dude. :-) but i feel SO abandoned... so isolated... so alone. and whenever i'm like this, no good can come of it. *sigh* waaaah!


boo-fuckin' hoo! but nah, i can't explain it; hmmm, actually, it might be a symbiotic thing. or not. *snigger* but i don't wanna dwell further cause trying to analyse it made me feel even worse (tee hee, if possible), so i ended up losing myself in Wikipaedia, just like i used to do with meatspace encyclopaedias.


then i posted the next to boost my memory. like the abandonment issue, it'll speak for itself, if i ever need it. at least, if i remember to check it out again here. anyway, from the Asperger Syndrome, AFAIC, the bottom line is:

'...The lack of demonstrated empathy is possibly the most dysfunctional aspect of Asperger syndrome... This failure to react appropriately to social interaction may appear as disregard for other people's feelings, and may come across as INSENSITIVE ...'


emphasis mine. when i came across the Asperger wiki, it made me feel a LOT better about things, although i do still need to be reminded. :-)


nb: if all the above seems fragmented and doesn't make any sense to youse, the bottom line is, it makes sense to ME and that's all that matters. Punkt, Ende. anyway, happy Christmas, y'all. *snigger*


LOL, update on 21. december: almost forgot to say Happy Winter Solstice to me, Hunter, Christine and all my Pagan friends. moving right along, last night i got mail from someone whose ID i'll hide, out of respect, like (and cause i'm so sensitive or whatever). *snigger* anyway, the essence was: 'Could you possibly be more depressing?' to which i went, 'LOL, just you wait'. ;-)

editor's note :-)

updated 17. december: LOL, new and improved throughout but best due to extra added Alabama 3 goodness, lifted off Live in Dublin, somewhere below. :-)


bad, bad SG... *grumble* when i scanned the prior post, i realised i'd almost missed an opportunity to ramble on about the guerrilla promo thing we dreamt up in 2003, all geared to Alabama 3, The Music Industry's Best Kept Secret. so i wrote a bit (10th 'graph of A Christmas Tale) and amazingly, was pretty subdued, especially since i was on about one of my formerly burning passions, the stuff that once happily kept me awake and bouncing ideas off Chris -- as he did me -- all night long in Germany.


*whispers* that was just about when i first admitted i might have a problem, but i'm totally not gonna think on it now, still living in the spirit of Alan Moore's, 'If we all ignore reality pointedly enough, maybe it'll go away'.

since we first pitched the promo, we had the distinct yet bitter pleasure of seeing each of the major ideas successfully picked up by other bands. these ranged from using smart mobs, to making our own material using snippets of the band's (both audio and visual), to one of the most ambitious: 'leaving the gig with DVD of same'. everything's still viable but when first conceived, no one apart from Pearl Jam and the Grateful Dead really got it.

back in Spring '03, no one ungeek had the slightest idea how the 'Net made it possible for fanboyz like me to do a better job and reach a wider audience than professionals had done, even though, at this very moment (as well as back then), the answer's staring us all in the face.

Pearl Jam had the right idea --- they handed the entire promotion machine over to their fanbase just about the time we finished the 1st draft of what was once called the PPL (Presleyterian Public Licence). yup, at the time, it was rather daring but in the spirit of Do It Yourself, the band took it away from the professional agency who'd done it for years and handed it over to random volunteers from all walks of life, out of all of whom the only thing in common was their love for the music.

there's something about the Alabama 3 that keeps their most rabid fans wanting more, and willing to spend time seeking it out cause a lot of us have the same old story: falling in love with The Sopranos' signature tune, then watching the credits only to find nary a mention of the name of the band who did Woke Up This Morning, the themesong for the most popular TV show in history.

and then getting a bit riled about it; riled enough to actually wanna pick up the slack and put Alabama 3 on the musical nap by spreading the Gospel themselves, and that's where the promo thing comes in, but that's enough of that for now (see 10th 'graph below for background reading -- not really necessary but interesting to those who dig finding out how things work).

persistence of memory: back in the Summer of 2000 after watching The Sopranos, we were were so totally in love with the tune, we Googled our heads off, trying to learn the name of the band, but totally no joy for a day or so till we hit on the bright idea to check American Amazon and immediately sent off for the Sopranos Sampler. back then Amazon didn't show the track listings and only after we saw the liner notes off the original from which this tune came, did we first read 'Alabama 3', secure it wasn't a sports score. and then we flew back to the 'Net to buy Exile. :-)

whoa, i haven't remembered this much in like ages... wah! mah hed hurtz, LOL. OK, this next is the latest, most benign reason why i shouldn't drink and post (or otherwise be extra-legally impaired): apart from the glaring omission above, i totally forgot the Gutter of Puns below and it all went downhill from there. um, i torry, Chris M; it's 'in' now. *checks carefully* yup, definitely. :-)


from the department of 'spot the cry for help': i repositioned an image to more truly reflect my personal views cause i wasn't too keen on where it was the first time. uh, on where the image was, not the POV. *evil* LOL, i'm so totally pre-empting with impunity here --- consider yerselves warned. :-)

anyway, i think i moved the image in a very tasteful manner. i mean, without shouting out things like:


the depressing material's now pretty blatant, so check it out below, w00t! ;-)