Raves about anything, everything and yet nothing at all.

Do it without me, do it when i’m gone. Do it without me, do it when it’s wrong

It’s been a roller coaster of a day, of a week; an absolute storm in my head. Which is fitting that I happened to stumble on this photo that I took in Sydney last year – it’s pretty much a visual representation of how my mind feels like right now. In constant motion. Multi-faceted and slightly confusing. Several planes functioning at the same time…

Sydney, 2010.

As per mentioned earlier this week, I’ve decided to compile a playlist. This one is mostly consisted of music I’ve acquired recently, which have been on high rotation. As usual, I’m absolutely anal over the number of tracks and the order that they go in – and I’m still not perfectly happy with the lack of flow in some places, but there’s not much more I can do right now except post the darn thing!

1. Four More Years – Teen Daze
So the most recent evidence of the boy’s influence on my music taste is “chillwave”. I’m not even going to discuss it because it took me a long time to get into it, and I have to be in the right mood for this stuff – but it’s brilliant right now, because I have a terrible cold and this music is good (or bad) for the middle of winter when you start daydreaming of summer escapades. If we end up executing some ideas we tossed around, I’m sure we’ll end up taking a long drive listening to stuff similar to this playlist, and immortalising summer with the graininess of film.

2. Undercover Martyn – Two Door Cinema
I literally only heard this song a few hours ago and immediately had to put it on repeat for a while. It sounds exactly like something I’ve been craving for some time, without even knowing how or why.

3. When I’m Yours – Film School
I love music like this. It’d been a long time since I listened to bands or songs with an atmosphere like this, and I’ve really missed it. In saying that, the music snob in me will say that “this isn’t amazing music” per se, on a strictly musical level; but as I was saying to the boy (who isn’t so hot keen on this type of sound), that this song is “really good for what it is”. It’s got the driving bass, the whispery vocals, a decent hook, snare hits in the right places, blaaah! Okay I’ll stop analysing it now. It was funny though, because he said that if he were to think of a type of music as being “Amanda”, this would probably be it. It also makes me miss shoe-gaze.

4. Echoes – Washed Out
Within & Without is hands down my favourite record by Ernest Greene. Sure, his other stuff are great (and very summery, once again), but this album is far more intimate compared to his EPs, and this track is one of my favourites. It also has a killer album cover that I desperately want to re-create…

5. Despicable Dogs – Small Black
It seems to be a recurring theme that I like swirly-sounding songs. What I love so much about songs with this quality that sounds like it’s swirling in circles is how lost I can get in them. You lose track of time. You have no idea how much more of the song is left. And usually, it will have a façade of positivity through the use of major keys, but with a heavy undercurrent of something darker, sadder. Mmmm. The title of the post comes from this song, by the way.

6. Abducted – Cults
According to my music taste, I have a huge thing for trios and duos. Especially two-pieces consisting of a guy and a girl, so this band falls under that category perfectly. Asides from the fact that I don’t believe Brian’s actual last name could truly be as awesomeawesmoeawesome as “Oblivion” – and the fact that they come from San Francisco (which I’ve said enough times that I LOVE = awesome), are based in Manhattan (which I desperately want to visit = more awesome) and attended NYU (come on, I can’t even afford the flights there, let alone attend NYU, dammit! = even MORE awesome) – I really like their voices. On top of that, she’s pretty (has nice legs) and her voice has this weird pleading edge to it that I just can’t achieve with my voice which is about a whole octave lower. Maybe she’s the new #3 on my list of “ladies I’d like to be/like”.

7. Lofticries – Purity Ring
Good song. That’s all.

8. Baby Says (Acoustic) – The Kills
An acoustic version of my favourite track from The Kills’ newest album: click here for the album version. As mentioned above, I love guy/gal two-pieces, and The Kills is possibly my utmost favourite duo. There’s a weird familiarity in this song, even during the very first time I heard it, so that’s probably why it’s my top pick from Blood Pressures. Plus, I haven’t mentioned them since forever, and Mosshart is my #1 “lady I’d like to be”, after all. Except that I used the word “lady” in reference to Madeline Follin, above, but that word is terribly inappropriate and ironic for Mosshart.

9. Lady Daydream – Twin Sister
I don’t have any particular attachments to this song, I just think it’s nice. Twangy guitar. Dreamy vocals. Nice bass tone. Yup.

10. Coma Summer – Weekend
Had a huge nostalgic need for some psychedelic/shoe-gaze music a week or two ago, and this San Franciscan band fitted the bill nicely. I have a terrible habit of posting album openers on my playlists, but that’s the thing – the reason they’re the first track on an album means they’re good and reflect the band or album precisely. For those not into this genre, this would probably at best only be a “put on in the background whilst you read news online or pretend to study” kind of song, but I dig it nonetheless.

11. Trying Something New – The Honeydrips
I’m afraid the link takes you to the track on Myspace because I couldn’t find it on Youtube. Once again influenced by the boy, his love of Swedish artists has really rubbed off. Although it doesn’t have many lyrical merits, it’s one of those songs that still manage to sound good with the same lines and hook repeated over and over again. And for some reason, I really think that the hook of this song sounds like Real Estate’s “Beach Comber”, even though they are completely different-sounding songs.

12. I’ll Be Your Man – Anna Calvi
After several sources mis-quoted, I finally found a reliable source (BBC) which said that Brian Eno called Calvi “the biggest thing since Patti Smith”. Whilst I had tried and never really caught onto Patti Smith, something about this particular Calvi song struck a chord with me. I hate that term, because it’s a shitty and unintentional music pun, but I honestly couldn’t think of any other way of putting it right now. Anyway, before this playlist-making business completely destroys my self esteem, I need to point out how admirably talented and sexy Calvi is. I don’t play guitar mostly because I hate the way it feels in my hands and prefer the musical function of bass anyway, but it’s people like her that makes me go, damn, I need to learn how to do that, properly. Her technique! She plays guitar like a man. Like a particular man I know, but my my, how many men would want to be that guitar in her hands. (Live version of this track here). And oh damn, maybe she’s the new #3 and Follin will have to be #4. Because she trumps her both on musical and physical merits. Shhh.

13. Neon – Teen Daze
I don’t know why I like doing this, but I’ve just realised that this is not the first time I’ve started and ended a playlist with the same artist. It just seems well-rounded or something. Plus, this song is dreamy and sweet and very nostalgic-sounding – which makes me wish I was a teenager all over again, and furthermore, makes me want to repeat all my mistakes slightly differently. If only.

If you believe I’ll deceive and common sense says you are the thief, Let me take you down the corridors

I just did something extremely cringe-worthy: I went back and read some unfinished blog posts that are still saved under “drafts”, as well as some posts from 2006 that I’ve long ago made “private”. 2006!!! It’s so scary to think how fast five years have flown, and how much yet little of me has changed. Ahh. I dare not dwell on it.

It’s late and my mind is boggled, but before I let myself ramble off in tangents – there are two main points to this blog post. Firstly, I’d have to say that as far as birthday presents go, the boy’s done pretty well for himself . He’s given me a huge stack of books, The Fountainhead being the first that I decided to tackle. Reading Ayn Rand’s novel has not only preoccupied me enough to leave him alone to study for exams, but it also made me cry, laugh, and re-read paragraphs pensively on many, many occasions. It’s such an amazing book that I almost put off finishing it, instead mucking around with the last hundred pages the other night, and finally allowing myself to finish it and sleep at 6am. Which resulted in me being terribly late for a meeting with the head of jazz, but that’s a different story. I had a discussion with the boy about the book yesterday, but I don’t think I’ve quite tidied up my thoughts enough to blog about it. Actually, I don’t know if I will ever collect my thoughts enough to write a coherent post about it, but all I can say is just read it!

Secondly, people don’t read enough these days. Or should I say, people my age don’t read enough these days. I was tweet-chatting to Rob the other night and finally decided to blog about this. It seems that most people who complain about “kids these days not reading” are older adults, so it was interesting to really step back and think about how I feel in regards to this topic – as I’m supposedly part of this “generation of non-readers”.

I’ve loved reading for as long as I can remember. When I was still very young and lived in Taipei, I remember my family’s in-car entertainment would be “can Amanda read all the signs?” – because, as you know, the streets in Asia are overwhelmed with signs, of stores, ads, you name it. Later on I progressed to proper books in Chinese, and when we moved here when I was six, I learnt English mostly by being virtually the only Asian kid at my primary school, and by – you guessed it – reading. Never mind not understanding all the words in a book at the time, the actual reading itself, absorbing ideas, characters, gaining entertainment from reading was the biggest thing for me. And then when the Harry Potter phenomenon exploded all over the world, I used the series as my escape from reality. I always had a niggling feeling though, that many of my peers didn’t enjoy reading. But I never thought twice about it since even the kids who “hated reading” seemed to all have read Harry Potter as well… until…

…One day, someone in my class snapped at me, “don’t tell me what happens, I’m waiting for the movie”. That’s the day I really did a double take and thought, what?! you’d rather wait a couple of years for a bad film interpretation of the best children’s series of our generation, rather than read it?! I was shocked. But sadly, at the same time, not that surprised at all. It was a kind of disillusion, almost. And whilst I will note that the technology age has impacted a lot on the declining number of youth that read, I’m not going to sit here and blame television, the internet or various other sources of entertainment that have replaced books. Instead, I’m more concerned with what those things cannot replace. Too many people are too preoccupied with plots. And getting fast, instant results. That’s why TV is so addictive – you get fed a half-hour storyline with a cliffhanger, as opposed to spending perhaps two hours reading to gain the same amount of “plot development”. That’s why many people have seen movies based on books, but have no interest in touching the book whatsoever. Some people have told me that it’s “more convenient”, or “saves time” in terms of digesting the “classics” in the form of movies rather than books – but none of these people will have truly experienced what made that book a “classic” in the first place.

Personally, I know I get too tied up in the analysis of the writing itself – choice of diction, dialogue, how the plot is structured, how characters are portrayed and the contrasts between them in terms of writing styles employed, on and on… That sounds like a total exaggeration but I kid you not – I involuntarily do all this subconsciously, peeling things to pieces and re-reading phrases or entire paragraphs just to re-absorb the text in a new light (all my favourite English teachers should be proud!) – but I’m not saying that other people should or could do this, I just think that they should read so that their brains are offered a chance to even do so. I’m not slagging films or anything (I love them!), but I truly think that books are irreplaceable and I repeat – people get too caught up with the plot, and wanting to “find out what happens”. Although many books are judged by how much of a “page turner” they are, I think that with the best books out there, less emphasis is on “what happens next”, rather, “how it happens” and “why it happens”  is far more important – and that’s what non-readers are missing out on. They’re missing out on the gaps between time spent reading, where their brains absorbs what they have just read, and allows mind space for their own judgements, analysis and ideas to be formed. Don’t forget now, books and imagination are hugely connected, so youths who don’t read are often missing out on chances to explore their creative boundaries.

I’m sure most people have experienced (perhaps, once again with the recurring Harry Potter example) an occasion where they’ve seen a film based on a book and have either had their imagined settings or character appearances completely recreated onscreen, or have completely disagreed with the visual depiction they’re offered. And therein lies the beauty of reading – you’re not confined to any visual elements and are free to interpret the setting and descriptions in any way you wish. That’s where your imagination gets a workout! I remember when I read Twilight out of curiosity (the entire series, no less, I am thoroughly ashamed to say!!! – instead of studying for my 6th form AS exams), and I had pictured Edward as… well let’s just say that I don’t think Robert Pattinson does my mental version of Edward any justice whatsoever. But in stark comparison, I’d have to say Harry Potter (once again) was very well cast, and was a case of where I thought the core cast members were precisely as I had pictured them when I first read the books.

Also, when I say that people should read more, I’m not being a literature elitist here and trying to shove “classics” or anything down anyone’s throats. I just think that, yes, some books are more worthy of your time than others, but people aren’t reading enough for me to even begin to comment on what they do read.  I vastly enjoy the odd crime/thriller/action novel, but I also like to feed my mind with other books in which the plot is only the undercurrent to character development. I think a lot of people don’t realise how valuable these things are – how reading books with complex characters with different backgrounds and motives actually gets osmosed into daily life and how you view or analyse the actions of those around you. Ever wondered what the life of a struggling artist is like? Go read about it. Ever thought thank god I’m not the kid picked on at school? Go read about some poor kid. Ever wonder what might drive the ulterior motives of conniving people? Go read about it. There is so much eye-opening to be done through shelves and shelves of black ink, more so than people even realise. Reading isn’t just about “what’s going to happen next?” or “does the good guy win?” – it truly is about how it happens – and the conclusions we’ve drawn along the way, as well as perhaps some philosophies that deeper books may offer us.

I know I’d said I wasn’t going to rave about it, but I can’t ignore using it as an example: The Fountainhead for me felt really personal, on so many levels that I can’t even begin to describe coherently. But the underlying theme here is the fact that, through her highly contrasting cast of characters, Ayn Rand’s writing has put into words for me, so many conclusions, judgements and philosophies that I’d already drawn up throughout my life, but had never attempted to vocalise and summarise. The different “types” of people that I’ve spent hours of my life trying to decipher, to understand, to overcome difficulties with; how I feel towards them, and they towards me, why I love or hate the way I do… my illiterate scrawls in notebooks and hours spent theorising with my therapist – all these tangents of life compacted into a beautifully crafted novel.

To view this whole “young people don’t read enough these days” issue in a different light, I have to say that too many people struggle with English Lit at high school. Asides from tutoring my sister to pass AS English Lit in half a year (so that she could qualify early for a college scholarship in America), I’ve also helped out various people throughout high school, plus I now tutor a kid on a weekly basis. And I’m disturbed by the main causes of why I think they needed help in the first place: how the teachers are teaching (or not teaching); and how these kids never read except when they are forced to do so for class. Therefore, they don’t know how to read “effectively”, how to process what they’re reading, how to analyse and absorb things, what they’re looking for – which results in their inability to scratch beyond superficial meanings, let alone concoct an in-depth analytical essay in an hour-exam! What these people have in common is the fact that they don’t read by choice as a pleasurable pastime: when they’re faced with trying to get through behemoths such as Jane Eyre or Cat’s Eye for school, they simply struggle through the books, and are reading “up to Chapter X” by certain deadlines merely because they have to! I’ve discovered that an astonishing amount of people don’t even know basic things like what a semicolon or em dash is – I had to write up sentence examples and point them out in a book to my student who is 17!

I could go on and on about this, but I’d better not and get to bed instead. I will, however, freely admit that I’ve been guilty of neglecting books in recent years, but I feel that at least I make up for it when I have some time – such as now. So that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I feel about this issue, at age 20. Maybe when I’m older I’ll look back and be one of those old grumpy adults still bitching about the same thing. Ha.

Something like a phenomena, baby, You’re something like a phenomena

It’s about to be my 20th birthday. I have mixed feelings about not being a teenager anymore, and it’s scary considering I was still 19 when I went to the supermarket this afternoon and once again didn’t get ID’d for buying alcohol! Earlier this evening, I went over to the boy’s house “for dinner”, thinking it was just going to be another fun but casual dinner. Turns out, they had cooked me a feast of lamb shanks (done superbly with probably the same recipe as mum, score!) and fresh brownies out of the oven with fancy ice cream on the side for dessert. It was such a sweet, sweet surprise, if I wasn’t so takenaback I probably would have jumped and given Donna a hug! I probably should have. Ahhhh. Anyway, I’m still in awe of how nice it was, to whip me up a hearty family meal to celebrate my birthday for me, when my family are away – I will never forget it. What a nice way to round of my teenage years.

Sooo… I decided to spend an afternoon (which turned into evening, which turned into all night) digging out old photos from my years of being a teenager. This is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever done because – in case you hadn’t noticed – I rarely post photos of myself. And when I do, it’s usually ones I’ve taken, or got other people to take under my strict strict instructions. So what is beyond that “Continue Reading” link is actually hundreds of photos (mostly of me) showing my transformation during the ages 14-19. There are gazillions more photos somewhere, but I don’t have access to mum’s stash of photos at the moment, so I also don’t have any one hand from when I was 13. Regardless, even if no one is that interested in what little-Amanda looked like, I had a LOT of fun doing this, recalling so many events and memories that I had long forgotten about. I’ve posted things in order of age, and almost in perfect chronological order, so be impressed. It’s a little funny turning 20, because in New Zealand it’s not a big deal like 18 or 21 is, but in Taiwan, 20 is a big deal. It’s like NZ’s 18th and 21st birthdays mashed together, sort of. To put it in perspective, I can’t renew my Taiwanese passport on my own without a parent’s signature until I turn 20 tomorrow. Which reminds me I really need to get onto it.

Looking back, I’ve obviously grown up a lot throughout my teenage years, but I’ve also stayed the same in more ways than I had expected. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m proud of, but also a lot of things that I’m not. But I’m pretty happy where I am right now, and I’m just trying to look towards the future optimistically. And if you know me at all, you’d know that I’m not generally an optimistic person. Like… how I have to spend 13 hour at uni tomorrow on my birthday… I’m sure it will turn out fine though. Also, the exhibition opened yesterday, and I’ll probably post the official photos in the next entry, but there are photos of the gallery at the bottom of this post!

Oh, and you may be surprised to find that I hardly look different at all.

Age 14:

Taken at the house I “grew up in”. I wish my hair was that long again.

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Baby says, if ever you see skin as fair, Or eyes as deep and as black as mine, I know you’re lying

One assessment down. Eight to go. I think. Maybe I left something out when I counted…

I thought I’d post a photo from one of the longest and happiest days of my life (San Francisco, November 9th 2010), seeing as I’m trying to be optimistic about everything at the moment.

In the next month I will become so sleep deprived, stressed out and high strung that ferry rides will be my bedtime and my fingers will bleed. Welcome to assessment month hell at jazz school – a.k.a. the last month of semester. My face will start breaking out in pimples, emulating aethestically what will be the chaos of my life. Generally, I never ever get pimples, except when I am SUPER stressed out. I don’t mean to brag (I count myself lucky and thank my mother’s genes, to be honest), but I have such nice skin that one pimple is a cataclysmic event, let alone during assessment time when I get up to three. This is too much gross detail, but with me, pimples generally never form or “ripen”, as some people like to call it. They just stay under the surface and hurt like a bitch.

Basically, life is extremely stressful at the moment, and I really really need to step it up and average out my general performance standards at a higher level. It’s so ironic in many ways that I’ve stopped caring about my grades since I got to university. I used to be the sort of person that will get B’s for not trying, and A’s for pretending to give a shit, or the classes that I enjoy, and that was perfectly fine with me. More than fine, it was bloody swell. I always felt like I always got at least 10% more than I deserved, considering I had never done any actual “studying” in my life, to be perfectly honest. But jazz school is a completely different ball game. It’s not academic in any such way, so none of this being “naturally bright” business bullshit comes into play. To a large extent, it is down to commitment, and time spent, but really, it’s about a whole lot of heart.

I finally received my feedback for the jazz combo recital from the end of last term, and the identical raw mark from both assessors on the panel that night had no bearing on my feelings at all. However, I was thoroughly pleased with the fact that their comments precisely reflected my thoughts on how I played that night. The things they thought I did well, and the things they pointed out that needs improvement were all in agreement with how I felt, so that’s really the biggest thing for me. I no longer care about the ABC’s and care mostly about my growth not just as a musician, but as a person. I mean, for gods sake I got something below a B for the first time in my life when I got to university! Nerves, freezing up and mind blanking have been some of my top enemies, and it all comes down to confidence, so I’m trying to work on that.

It’s funny thinking back on all the employers I’ve spoken to in the past who have said that they would happily employ a music graduate for a non music-related job. I remember most distinctly a barrister I had met, with whom I was discussing how I had gone about the most painful decision of my life – choosing jazz school over law school. After chatting for a good half hour, he told me that he thought I would have made an excellent lawyer had I chosen to pursue it; but also that he can see why I didn’t, and the fact that I hold the possibilities of so much more. And I think it’s this obsession with there is something more, there’s got to be more to life, there’s got to be more to me, more to be discovered, more to be devoured, more to be enjoyed, more to be read, seen, photographed, written, learnt, heard, felt, touched, loved – MORE! that ultimately drives me in the supposedly “unconventional” and “creative” realms that I enjoy so much to delve in. I don’t think it’s enough for me to simply aim for a decent paying job, end up with a nice husband, bright children and then repeat the cycle. No. Yes, I want all that, but I also want so much MORE. Having said that, it is terribly hard for me to let go of the “black-clad powerhouse woman of a lawyer with a disposable income, too little time and the world at her fingertips”-type image that I’d spent a large majority of the past decade aiming for. But also having said that, at the same time, I also harboured dreams of being a performer. I still haven’t figured out quite yet the precise sort of perfomer I’d like to be, but I think that there is merit in all forms. And in a larger, more abstract sense of the word, I also don’t think that you have to be physically doing something like playing music, dancing or acting to be “performing” – I like to think that there are such things as literary performances, which is the accumulation of those dashing, inspired moments transcribed into text on paper, rather than in the form of something you sit down to watch or listen to… which ultimately is what a musical/theatrical/dance performace also is: an “accumulation of those dashing, inspired moments”, except executed in a single setting, so to speak.

Anyway, before I ran off on a tangent, the point I was leading to about employers was the list of “qualities” that music graduates supposedly have, or will have achieved. These include all sorts of cheesy, typical-sounding adjectives which you can think of. And I admit, I’d always thought it a little over-repeated for the sake of encouraging young people to pursue a wide range of Bachelor degrees other than the “normal”, “conventional” or “money making” ones that usually come to mind; but funnily enough, these days I think I’m really starting to “get it”. I’m suffering such a bad case of low motivation and general difficulty with “getting on with it”, and I think that’s because in many ways, this music degree is actually indirectly designed to make me a better person – and that is what I’m struggling with. It’s not the actual coursework that I’m struggling with as such (although yes, it’s intense, and yes it’s difficult), but what it takes to do well in this course. You have to be so internally motivated, fight through intellectual, creative, physical and personal barriers just to get through your workload, let alone get good at it. It’s much easier for me to curl up in bed with a text book to cram for a test with, than it is for me to want to stand for hours on end and play until my blistering fingertips really can’t handle anymore bass playing. You have to want to and then make yourself go the extra mile all the time. Also, seeing as I’m self-professed not very obsessed with jazz – yes, I love it, but sometimes I just can’t conjure up the mental capacity for it, even to listen to it – it’s doubly hard for me to want to sit back, and spend hours listening to jazz recordings. By that, I don’t mean put it on and chill out, but I mean to sit there and fully pay attention to it. Over and over. Listening to all the different parts. Not just the chords, but the chord voicings, then the voicings over the particular note choices in the bass line, and the voicings used by another chordal instrument, what the soloist is playing, how they’re playing, their rhythm, time, placement, note choices, chords they outline, chords they imply, time they imply, feel, the groove of the swing… Oh by now my head just wants to burst!

My so-last-minute-I-should-get-shot transcription assessment went well today. Transcribed 64 bars of Hank Mobley’s solo on Someday My Prince Will Come and had to perform to the recording. Apparently my written transcription was pretty accurate, which surprised me. It was so hard to write out something when he plays so darn behind the beat.

Here’s a super lovely track by an amazingly sweet and talent vocalise, Rosa Passos with the legendary Ron Carter:

You say can we still be friends… If I was scared, I would. And if I was bored, you know I would. And if I was yours, but I’m not

I’m about halfway through working on my transcription which is due to be tested in Improvisation* class on Thursday. The transcribing part is down, but next I need to learn how to play these 64 bars of Ron Carter’s solo on “Bohemia After Dark” from the Stardust album.

I had a really long phone conversation with Miss Felisa M.D. last night, which involved hanging up as close to 59 minutes and 59 seconds as possible, because we have this phone deal at the moment that charges $2 per hour of international calling, but a lot more if the time is breached. We went over the hour mark by a few seconds once, so I really, really hope the bill doesn’t fly too high, because mum frowned when I told her about it.

Speaking of my mum, she took this awesome photo on last night when the boy and I were busy stuffing our faces with butter chicken and beer:

Also, I now stake that this post marks the day I became domesticated enough to voluntarily cook dinner whilst not home alone, and without mum having to pull the “I’m really tired and have a headache” card. Tonight for dinner I whipped up a waistline-threatening amount of couscous and then proceeded to flavour it with anything I could think of that was in our fridge. It started innocently enough, with me thinking “now I need to cook extra because I want to solve the problem of having to pack a lunch tomorrow”, and ended up involving: 4 fresh diced tomatoes, yellow and green capsicum that were diced and then pan-seared in butter, chicken cooked also in butter and some rosemary from the back yard, 4 hard-boiled eggs, a questionable* amount of olive oil, and nice dollops of whole seed mustard and pesto.

The results are as follows:

Rounded off with a beer, it was really a lovely meal, if only I hadn’t spent so long cooking it, I think my appetite would’ve been better!

*Just as I was typing the word “questionable”, I suddenly remembered the web-Comic Questionable Content that I used to follow religiously back when I was like… 15, 16? I have just over a thousand posts to catch up on, but I really mustn’t let myself indulge until the holidays, or I will never get any work done! I’d highly recommend it for anyone who enjoys a good serving of sarcastic dry humour and indie references.