The mattress carries static; my hair hasn't fallen downwards in years

I should be completing the last bits of packing, but I'm bored of it now and have spent the day being thoroughly dedicated to tea consumption. 

Watched another programme about British music last night. There seems to be an endless pile of television simulacrum based on the British music scene. (simulacrum; I love that word, if only I could use it without having to remind myself of its definition every time it appears in a sentence. And even then I probably get it wrong.)

Each time swimming through the Pete Waterman factory music, then Simon Cowell, Malcolm/Vivienne's creation of punk, the synth-fuelled electro pop, 90's Britpop (despite the dull and repeated explanation of the rivalry, that's my favourite bit. Damon Albarn, need I say more?), and then back to Boyzone. I've probably missed out some bits. But anyway, there's alot of programmes kicking around with roughly identical scripts. Although the one last night was distinctly better, as it had the adition of interviews with Mr Albarn himself and clips from Jubilee. 

I realise it sounds as if I'm complaining about the volume of similar British music programmes on (mostly BBC channels) but since I don't seem to have ever been able to resist watching any of the said programmes ever I believe I enjoy them very much.

My mental highlighter has picked up on my continuous lack of the word 'are' in my sentences at the moment. My computer highlighter has picked up on an extensive variety of spelling mistakes. Very annoying.

Here's some pictures I drew a while ago. As the academic year progresses, I become more and more aware of how artistically incompetent I am. I have spent the year 'trying something new' constantly, whether it be with materials, technique or subject matter, because I'm not happy with any of the previous results. I then look back at a picture or two which I consider more successful (drawn at the beginning of the year) and remember that I should absolutely just stick to what I know and then maybe I have a slight chance of getting better.

This is the most gravity deficient I can be

Have begun a picture about a whale (who also plays host to two young monsterions who live on it's head). It's skin is cracking off it's body in chunks of stars and being collected in a bottle with the aid of a funnel (of course).

Will take a few days I imagine, as it is a in-between activity, placed around packing and (eventually) un-packing. 

This (below) was done a few months ago. I think alot about the idea of halo's. That's why I like moths so much.

You have to face it- you're bound to get splinters in your knees at some point

She got a bit cracked on the way in through the scanner. (below) Didn't bother re-scanning, as I'm not sure whether I like it or not.

Spent the whole day packing. Still have lots to do.

Jack rang, he's back in England- going charity shop shopping tomorrow, although I can't really spend much as I'm still ultra skint but it'll be nice to catch up.

Excited about Bestival next week, I need to make sure I have enough money to get there and to buy all the appropriate items for a fun weekend though. For some reason I brought a ferry ticket for Friday when I have always intended on going on Thursday. Head in the clouds.

They planted a plum seed under the floorboards. Out grew a tree!

Today I saw my new flat for the first time. I'm moving in on Monday, it's a maisonette and I found it charming. I've got to box up everything I own, a seemingly impossible task considering the years of ridiculous 'collections' of which I have accumulated in my room. 

I've never moved house before, it's all very scary and new. Maybe it'll be ok.

Card pyramids down here? Are you mad?!

Been toying with the idea of making time-consuming but gloriously personal business cards, collaged on playing cards with Littel Bird details on the back. 

I like the mime man best.

Also been scrapbooking everything in the world. Found a picture of my brother (circa* 99? 00?) who, having built a huge card pyramid, pulls a face that only a 9yrold can pull, and has then been photographed by his sister.

*Not sure of the correct use of 'circa'. I'm sure I'd enjoy the word a whole lot if I could integrate it into at least three conversations a day without sounding and feeling like a fool.

Lean on your elbows and drag down the duvet

 

The moment one becomes far too cool for the daily habits of a 14yrold, they will neglect all subscribed 'deardiary' sites and proceed to wear make-up, much more expensive than the day before.

Then we are eventually reminded that we were never, and will never, be cool. And that it is much better that way.

Such a no-matter discovery is particularily warmly received, since all the cool people I've met are wankers.

At least being uncool gives us a slight chance of being... well, un-wanker-esque. But of course, it is no guarantee.

I'm going to have a go at being self-disciplined in the vague hope of generating actual representations of brain vomit, in the wonderful world of the web, on a regular basis.