The duality of all things

The last few months have been cram-packed full of lovely things. Too much to mention...as I always say.

Pain of Salvation were pretty spiffing in London...even if they were received very poorly by a crowd full of pretentious death metal fans who think that anyone who sings and doesn't growl is a 'pussy'. And that is not speculation, I spoke to plenty of them that night. Sadly. Bloody great night though.

I have learned recently that having childcare qualifications doesn't make people good with children or even particularly capable of looking after them. I think it's probably personality traits and wisdom that are key (And just to clarify, this is not about any one person in particular - I know several people who have qualified in childcare/teaching, etc and are awesome with kids - just some things I've noticed from a number of different places and situations).

My blue-eyed boy bought me surprise Manic Street Preacher tickets for my birthday. Oh yes. Because I'm awesome and evidently so is he! Strange, one of the brightest parts of my present reconnecting me with the dark threads of my past. 'This is the past that's mine'. It's the show they're playing in London where they shall be blessing (and educating) our ears and souls with every single they've released. All 38 of them. I think it's 38...

It seems that to be friends with someone and to keep a grasp of their loyalty...you need to see them more than several times a month, regardless of what else you have going on in your life. Therefore...rendering 'loyaly' null and void surely? I'll explain, There are some people I see once every few months and still feel as close to them as ever, every time I see them. And then there are others who I have been ridiculously close to, and they seem cold and clammy (err!) whenever I see them recently. As though I have betrayed them somehow. I'm afraid life doesn't really work like that for me. I've learned an immense amount about friendship over the past two years. And my life is better for it.

Quote of the week from random Irish sitcom:
'Step away...from the feckin' vehicle' I'm going to say that to the next person who tries to threaten or intimidate me. :-P

I'll stop with the wittering now.

Something I said

Something I find annoying: when people who have never been/never go to church/never read the bible insist on getting married in a church. Why why why? It's like...dressing up as a penguin and going to sit in a zoo. Because that's what everyone else is doing. Or something. Not that I'm a Christian as we all very well know, I just cannot stand it when people dress themselves up in an idea that they have no real grasp of, no true belief in.

Something I find wonderful: Road Salt Two. Lots of suspected storylines (ooh that's right, I said it - yes, I do believe Road Salt One and Road Salt Two to be concept albums (the modern definition of a concept album with an actual tale to be told) rather than just thematic masterpieces: have THAT you poncy, pretentious, painfully-tedious prog elitists!) confirmed from RS1. Listening to Road Salt Two is like watching a large building collapsing. With memory-invoking pictures smashed to the floor and rooms falling in on themselves, foundations of a life turning to dust and grey and rubble, a landscape changed forever.

Something I am enjoying immensely: Mr. Doyle. Yes yes, I know...I usually only get soppy about the children in my life, but James Doyle has one of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered. And I've done nothing to deserve it or what we have between us. How strange to hold something so fragile and delicate yet so strong at the same time in the palm of my hands. In our hands.

Something I should be doing right now: Housework. *yawn*. I'm so glad that I live in the 21st Century right now - there's nothing worse than the prospect of building a giant housewife-shaped coffin to fester away and die in.

Something I can't be bothered to do right now: Complete this blog entry.

OMGZ!! EYM SO FUNNAY!!!!111one

..Shut up.

Quite frankly, my dear...

...I've left it too long since my last blog post. There are too many things to update you with so I shall just continue as I am...vague, nonchalant towards my poor readers, forever floating in a sea of apathy. Apathy towards the internet that is, nothing else.

I want a Slow Loris, and if I don't get one for my birthday I'l scweam and scweam! ...Or maybe I'll just shrug my shoulders and resign myself to another birthday full of non-events. Although last year's birthday did include one of the most wonderful gifts I've ever received thanks to Zak and James. Anyway, here is what you will buy me on 15th November:

(and the umbrella too)

But seriously, my birthday plans so far consist of a Pain of Salvation/Opeth concert and then a weekend in Eastbourne. For once, I am genuinely looking forward to a birthday.

Life is pretty amazing, I just wish I didn't get so tired so easily. I could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. And I eat all my fruit and vegetables too!

It was Benathon's birthday (one of my amazing nephews) yesterday and apparently he came downstairs in the morning and asked miserably where 'the sock thing' was. Aww, that's Christmas, you adorable little sillyman! <3 Love him. Plus, he called me 'your majesty' on the phone last night. Kids fucking rule.

That'll be all for now, happy campers.

Also...

...I would quite like to live in a Richard Dadd painting.

'Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.'

I'll start by telling all you lovely people that the other day I watched a few episodes of 'ridiculouslyparanoidandself-centeredvacuouswomen and the city' for the first time in about three years. I have a totally different perspective on that program these days and end up sympathising with the men most of the time - that poor Mr. Big who was so patient with Carrie's constant whining and over-evaluating of NOTHING (not that I can talk about the over-evaluating, but I don't get carried away with a random thought and decide he DOESN'T LOVE ME BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SAY 'I LOVE YOU TOO' WHEN HE WAS IN A RUSH SAYING GOODBYE ON THE PHONE!') and, frankly, I have no idea how he put up with it which leads me to the concluson that women are just fucking mental. Actuuuaaaally mental.

Lots of nice musical things have happened lately.

My dog had to die. I cried. He was the best dog ever. :(

I don't know what I've done to deserve such a wonderful boy but there he is, standing there in his boots with his big grins and his musicalness. Like a little bundle of happiness and calm for Joanna. This is what it's supposed to be like, isn't it?

The last couple of weeks have consisted of...*deep breath*...visits and utterly lovely times at Shell's parents' house, watching some local wrestling (interesting how the group of guys sitting near us were commenting on the performance, technique, character, and entertaining qualities of the male wrestlers, but only had comments on the appearance of the female wrestlers. Aside from that innevitable letdown from the human race, it was an exciting experience which I will definitely do again! I like a room full of testosterone and sweat, so's I do), continental breakfasts with Jamesface Cookenblau III esq., been to Thorpe Park and went mental on the Saw ride and Colossus (hell yeah!): by the end of the day we looked like shit but were beaming with sunshine from our little faces, sadly had to miss Becca's Butlins Bridesmaid Bash weekend - I'm not enjoying this budgeting malarkey but if I want free time and a bit of peace for my soul I need to compromise my working hours somewhat (I have my bridesmaid dress fitting next week though so that'll be more than fun, innit!), had my feet nibbled by fish and a lovely lunch with mummy Kaykay, as always loads of nice trips to Kev and Shell's with James and my little brother....and I suppose that's about it.

Am I the only person who thinks that doll is just a bit too cute to be scary? No? Just me?

And now I am making something birthdaylike and surprisey which I bloodywell hope turns out okay. And cakeybakey times on the morrow after work. Life has picked up a pace again which needed to happen.

Also, I'd just like to say that Adele's voice is enchantingly soulful and seeped in emotion. It's a shame I don't like a massive amount of her music. And I kinda wish she'd sing about some issues other than love. Because that voice could tell some stories.

That'll be all.

'You've brought back an excitement and curiosity into my life that I thought I'd lost forever.' <3

'And all my armour falling down in a pile at my feet...'

'And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.'

Drums like heartbeats

Last week a colleague and I took some people to a club called Jumpin' Jacks. It was their learning disabilities night and it was PACKED. The moment that pumping music with your bog-standard basic beats (you know, the usual pop/club crap) started thumping out of the speakers, people's bodies began moving. Now several of the people there were really quite advanced with their disability and had no communcation skills whatsoever but they still felt the music and moved their bodies to it, almost involuntarily...and it got me thinking of when I hear a winding, sexy eastern drum beat, or a full-on inyerface metal drum solo: my hips can't help but move. It just goes to show that however detached or attached we are from our own societies, we are still truly 'as one' sometimes, and it also goes to show how fucking amazing music is and how if there has been anything close to miraculous during our thousands of tumultuous years on this doomed planet...then that thing is music. Melodies like blood running through veins. Drums like heartbeats.

So, things have been strangely shit and strangely awesome. Everything is black and white all at the same time. Some new things have happened, and some things that are all too familiar and old. It depresses me how clinically people look at things sometimes.

Also, it's all a bit new and strange to trust someone instantly in that way. Am I foolish? Or just lucky? He has a beautiful heart which kind of...shines. I'm used to hearts of all different colours, but not shiny ones! That probably makes sense only to me...shut up Joanna. Strange how it all happened. How he crept inside my head without me really knowing. Sneaky little shit.

The days move a bit too slowly at the moment; it can be frustrating waiting for depleted energies to creep back into the blue. But I need to look after myself. And that I shall do.

Louis Wain's descent into madness and psychosis: fascinating how indicative this simple set of images is of how our view of things around us can become blurred and obscured so very easily...

'Doubt seperates people. It is the poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts.'

Dynamics change. People behave strangely. Things slip through fingers. Things fall apart.

Oftentimes the best things in life destroy themselves from the inside.

Gushing is nature's way of celebrating excess. That's my excuse anyway.

It's Easter. And I don't care about Easter. Or Zombie Jesus. Have that.

Today happiness sounds like:
Camille O'Sullivan.
and
King Diamond.
Just so you know.

I have had an endoftheweek full of musical goodness. Thursday saw Khthon battle it out for their Bloodstock chances and I must say I actually quite enjoyed the dooooooooomness of it all. Needless to say they won and are now in the semi-finals. Well done Mr. Doomwizard \m/. Then Friday was the Electric Circus: another amazing night...probably the best yet actually. Even if the local riverside Gnats feasted heartily on my upper thighs *sigh*. (And check out the awesome review: Click or die.) Dogtown burst my eardrums (in a good way). Then Brides of Rain soothed and excited my soul to the point where my hips, in the end, actually had a mind of their own; sway, sway, jiggle, grind. The metal and ethnic drumming, melodies that lift you away to other lands and planes, the texture of their sound, and the spirit and energy that they weave just takes me right to my primal core.

Which perhaps brings me to say how proud I am of my amazing friends. James and Kevin, not only are you the two best friends anyone could ever wish for but you are also two of the most creative and talented people I have ever met. You never fail to inspire me. I won't gush too much...when I moved back to Kent I was apprehensive about whether I would settle back into an old circle of friends or whether I'd be bored of the area again straight away. There were big chunks of myself that I thought had died, never to return. And James (and very recently Kev alongside him) brought them back to life. No matter what happens, who lets me down, where I am headed in life, I can always count on you two for continued support, encouragement, ABSOLUTE understanding, hours of hysterical laughter, intellectual stimulation (*snigger*), honesty (to the point of bluntness...not that I can talk :p), in-jokes, patience, and a comfort I have never had with friends before, and never thought possible. You keep me from that slow boat to China. We're like the guys from A Home At The End of The World. Except I promise I won't have a baby and then fuck off.

Also worthy of note: it isn't wise to attempt to step on a Scorpio. Because we sting.