bite the lightning and tell me how it tastes

it's been four weeks since my last post

HOW??

tessa and i have a lot of hair

quick nap before leaving

cocktails in manchester

me and charles were the most clothed people that night

sunsunsun

my pale, pale legs getting an outing in clacton

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maudlin

maudlin

adjective

Having reached the stage of drunkenness characterized by tearful sentimentality and effusive displays of affection; characteristic of (the behaviour of) someone who has reached this stage.

sheffield - west street live

london - café de paris

manchester - jabez clegg

i haven't done a vocabulary post for ages. or a post in general. hm.

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got the world locked up inside a plastic box

amy bought my diary this year.

see previous entries here

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hometown glory

meadham kirchhoff

mulberry

house of holland

charles anastase

all images from style.com

i happened to be in london the same weekend as london fashion week, so i picked up the daily and ate hummus. somerset house was even more imposing than normal.

i hope never to find a stockist for charles anastase, because the few feeble remains of my student loan would be gone in the short time it takes for me to tap in my pin number.

in regards to my lack of blogging recently it would be because of stress (namely losing my phone/disposable camera, and wondering if anything will happen next weekend) and not being near a laptop too often. i vent through twitter, so why anyone actually follows me on it, i haven't the foggiest, but you can stalk me find out more there.

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drama magnet

home

discovering the magic of amy's cupcakes in hot house

with sabina in the globe, post-prizegiving

doors, bowie, and allsaints tees. also in hot house ("you're becoming a bit of a regular here, aren't you?" thank you doorman whose name i can't remember)

away

carnage emergency services theme aaaaages ago. i am NOT going to the barbie vs action man one tonight

inside baa bar. i insisted on wearing those cycling shorts

my weekends are so much busier than my weekdays, visiting friends and playing the hostess.

today i had a seminar about the origin of language in which the tutor posed the question of whether life would be boring if we lacked the ability to lie. i was the only one who thought it would be beneficial. (i've somehow developed the worrying ability to lie profusely when drunk, and it keeps causing problems.) then i was blown down brownlow hill to the bluecoat art gallery, and then i had a grande skinny mocha with elle collections, sitting looking over seel street.

museums and starbucks are my personal form of escapism. they really, really work.

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i've been presented the 'stylish blogger award' by both emma (when she used to be 'two sugars please') and rebecca. so here are seven things about me, and it took me far, far too long to think of that many.

ps, a few people have asked, and you're welcome to add me as a friend on facebook, if you'd like (there's a link on the left)

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Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough briar,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.

one hundred posts...

may this post be as unconnected and nonsensical as my day (which involved waking up late, almost bursting into tears in the apple store, and trying not to laugh when reading "a midsummer night's dream" in starbucks until it shut)

and in relation to that middle point, i've no idea whether they're going to have to take my laptop away. you'll find my delusional thoughts on twitter, if you care to look.

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so drink, drink, drink and be ill tonight

1. selena and me

2. the three things that keep me alive

3. innocence

4. ignore my face, look at debbie. (and i left this tee at home, cry)

all these photos are from my birthday weekend last year, i've just been a bit... crap at getting films developed.

i've been back in liverpool since 14.21 on thursday and absolutely nothing has gone right.

well, apart from the train being on time.

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bowie was a ballerina

cardigan; urban outfitters. skirt; american apparel. tights; topshop. boots; topshop. necklaces; topshop and accessorise.

david bowie turned sixty-four today, so i wore electric blue eye-liner which i found serendipitously in my bathroom at three in the morning. when i emerged from my room with a waft of hairspray my mum couldn't help but ask whether i was off to a ballet class. instead it was just a trip to town to return a pair of beautiful shoes because regardless of being very skilled in keeping high heels on all night, those toe crunchers wouldn't have lasted more than an hour. damn.

here's what luella has to say about the man who sold the world:

But the master of British androgyny is really David Bowie, or Ziggy Stardust, or the Thin White Duke or Aladdin Sane - call him what you will according to your favourite period, he nailed it in all of them. Devilishly handsome, he was the boy who first made English girls fancy men in make-up. Bowie can make anything cool and sexy and credible and sophisticated and render it with an intellectual depth. No matter how weird and wonderful, you can trust Bowie - not even age can harm his seductive powers. Bowie is the ultimate creator of British characters and he goes deep into the psyche of each of his personas. One simply marvels at the Thin White Duke singing 'Stay' and partaking in what looks like a Charleston dance for one of his live performances. It's the coolest, most effortless thing one could ever witness, but his lengthened, heightened poses were obviously constructed with time and obsession in front of the mirror, resulting in a perfect masquerade.

oh, and amy and i made cupcakes yesterday (the amount i've consumed in the past couple of days probably goes some way to explaining why half the photos i took today were unusable)

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