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St. Ann's Midnight Walk

Very, very tired today. I took part in theSt. Ann's Hospice Midnight Walk. It was fun, although way more tiring than I expected. Manchester, as it turns out, has hills. It was a really nice atmosphere and it was cool to have random people cheer at us and passing cars honk their horns.

I wasn't being completely altruistic as I liked the idea of wandering around Manchester at night. I don't know quite why, but it seems different somehow. Prettier. I like the way the street lights illuminate the buildings, particularly all the industrial architecture. Walking around MoSi at night, with the flagstone pavements and old-fashioned streetlights makes you feel like you're in some Victorian adventure novel. The whole city seems to have a different character as well, sort of quirkier and darker (in the sinister, weirder sense).

Unfortunately, my camera's a bit rubbish when it comes to taking night shots but here's a couple. Spinningfields at night:


(Blurry) view from bridge by the Lowry Hotel:



I definitely want to do it next year. It's a brilliant cause. Although I'll figure out how to work my camera properly next time.

Also, 'Glee:Live' was great. :D


Huzzah!

I'm going to see 'Glee: Live' next Thursday! (Probably) for free!

And I'm drinking pink Hoegaarden!

!!!!!!!

Ahem.

Normal service will now be resumed.


Hairbrush Mic

At the moment, I seem to listen a lot to Podcasts or Radio 4 comedies on my iPod. They get me through the morning commute and help to snap me out of a boredom induced stupor or frustration induced sulk, if the day isn't going particularly well. I listen to soundtracks quite a bit too, immersing myself in my own imagination for a while.

I listened to 'Born on a Pirate Ship' by the Barenaked Ladies today (my taste in music, like my taste in most things, being deeply un-trendy). Love the band, love this album. What struck me was that when I listened to some of the songs on the train, I had to stop myself from singing along. I haven't listened to a song I love in ages. The difference between those songs and other songs being, I suppose, that they're the ones that make you feel a catch in your throat - not because of emotion but because the words seem to form themselves. I can't listen to 'Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank' or 'When I Fall' without wanting to sing them. The songs you love seem to want to be sung.
 

Writer's Block: Fast-food TV

Are there any dreadfully bad TV shows that you wouldn't want your friends to know you watch? Confess! (This is LiveJournal, where we love you unconditionally.)

I don't think there are any TV shows I watch that I'd keep a secret. Indeed, I'm rather proud of my penchant for crap telly and I'm lucky to have a number of friends who are equally fond of it.

My biggest guilty pleasure is 'Midsomer Murders'. Not because it's any worse that anything else I watch but because I do really, really enjoy it. I cheer at people being bumped off in elaborate and bizzare ways. I've developed a strange urge to hug John Nettles. (Come on, you can't say that he doesn't look at least a little cuddly.) It's just...fun. Not in a so-bad-it's-good way but in a stupid, two hours of escapism way.

Also, I have a huge  - and guilty - crush on Jones.

I'm eyeing up the bed linen suspiciously...

I've been reading a collection of M.R. James Ghost Stories on-and-off for the past month. 

They're lovely short stories that seem to spend as much fun poking fun at "Englishness" as providing scares. Reading them in the daytime, in a packed train carriage or on the bus, I feel very smug indeed. These stories aren't so scary, after all.

Then it's night time and I go to bed.

But not after I've hesitantly parted the curtains and glanced outside, half expecting to see some creepy stranger lurking in the shadows.

Hello, subconscious. Had the second scary dream in as many months last night. Would really appreciate it if this didn't become a regular thing. Thanks. xx 

I ended up listening to 'So Wrong It's Right' at 2:30am this morning, followed by a couple of episodes of 'Hut 33' before I finally fell asleep again. When I was little and I couldn't sleep or if I had a bad dream, my mum would take me downstairs, get me a glass of milk, and we'd watch an episode of 'Dad's Army' (or two if I really couldn't sleep) before I went back to bed. I can't help thinking this is kind of the same thing. Comedy makes me feel better, always has.

I'm sure there's more to be said about that but I'm absolutely shattered right now and should really go to bed. I'll probably end up listening to 'Hut 33' again. No wonder I've got a crush on Archie.

Jog On, Kitties.

"How's the cat?"

Well, recently the oncoming spring has brought about a spring to his step and brightness in his eyes - a certain joie de vivre, if you will. However, he is occasionally subject to long bouts of malaise, which in turn bring on feelings of isolation and nihilism where he finds himself questioning the very reason for his existence. Oh, and I think it's time to have him wormed.
I've just been listening to the final episode of Helen Keen's Radio Four show - "It is Rocket Science". It's funny and warm but what really makes it is her genuine passion for subject. Lovely and completely charming. If you're reading this, go and seek it out now.


Well, fuck you too, subconscious.

I haven't had a nightmare in years. Last night I did. A "being chased by a homicidal maniac" nightmare. One of those ones where you scare yourself awake, where you then groggily have to reason with yourself that aforementioned nutcase is, in fact, not outside your house.

Tonight I will falling be asleep whilst watching 'The Thick of It' because Malcolm Tucker will scare away the monsters under my bed. This will be punctuated with whimpering when I hear any strange noises.

Oh, yeah. I'm a badass.