Birthday.

My Birthday. I turned 21. I laughed I cried, I laughed again. It was eventful to say the least. Jim, and I went to see some stand-up in SoHo. He baked me a cake, and bought me a Zen Creative player So I can watch films on the tube, and when I travel for work. Its no bigger than the palm of my hand. It also plays music, radio, and shows photographs too. Quite cool!. We also wentto the crobar, in Soho, where we first met.

Bungalow 8.

Confession.



First of all a confession. I watched sex, and the city last night on Surfthechannel. Now thats out of the way, I can now speak about the story line. Basically she goes on, and on about going to Bungalow 8, in NY. So us Island dwellers, will be only too aware that they brought it to England, on St Martins Lane. Apparantly so exclusive you have to fill in an application form just to access the website! Anyway, being of reasonably sound mind,I acknowledge that a venue will never define if a person is cool or not. We have all seen pictures of the tragic Jodie Marsh, outside Embassy. Say no more. However I must say that I was flattered when I realised, after my friend invited me to the Bungalow 8 opening, that Niomi Campbell hadn't been. Imagine I'm sat on the tube, having been invited to 'some club', and reading the paper notice an article stating, 'guest list inculdes Kate Moss...however Niomi Campbell has been left off the list'. Regardless I was on holiday in Barcelona that weekend, so never went.Though, aparantly thats even cooler than having gone.

dads birthday.

Why do people have bad childhoods? Why are people so concerned with the moment? Is life as a whole not just an elongated era. Actually I am wrong, era simply means ‘significant piece of time’. Therefore, an era is precisely what life is! Why must one fragment it into such pessimistic terms? When one studies art, one quickly learns that to mix all colours together, one will always get a muddy near black shade. So it is subjective to what is better really. Acknowledging subtle differences in shade, or realising that all together, it’s all pretty much the same. What I mean by this is both one can scrutinize, and occupy ones time with the details, or just throw caution to the wind, and throw every shade into one another, without too much concern, we are all very aware of the eventual outcome. Simplicity or complexity? Colourful or neutral? I can presume you know what I am getting at.

Regardless, today is my fathers’ birthday. He would be 50 I think. It’s of no consequence really. I shouldn’t worry about something that would be a passing affair if he was still here. It’s just respectful to acknowledge. We would be sharing a milestone this year. With him becoming half a century old, and I twenty one. I did write an entry in my diary last year, and I can’t find the energy in me to surpass it’s wording this year. So I shall just put that below. The final thing I do wish to say is that I have no time for people with obesity, or eating problems. Cold I know. However why would someone who is fortunate enough to have two hands, two feet, both eyes, and hearing, let themselves disrespect the privilege of being alive. We have so much time to spend when we are old, in front of the television, or just plain pottering about. Though don’t for a second think that some older people don’t dream of just being able to walk up one more small mountain, walk up the escalators on the underground, arm wrestle with the confidence that they'll surely win, climb a ladder to fix the roof slates, or open a fucking jar. Because believe me you will reach a time when you’re fortunate to be able to even do that. Time will conveniently take away your capabilities, so for crying out loud don’t do it to yourself. Imagine, your body is supposed to last you 80 years. That’s an awfully long time. It’s also an awfully unobtainable age if you spend the beginning duration eating shit food, succumbing to addictions, and depriving, or gluttonising your body. So yes anyway, that’s why I have not patience for those two conditions.

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Happy Birthday Dad.

“For the life you gave me. The lives I would die for. My sisters, my brother, my nephew, my reasons. The Tramp stories. Keeping away the boys. Holding me.Warming the cream between your hands, before soothing my scars. Never holding me back (too much). Fixing my bike. Working so hard. Smelling of dust, and tar. Play fighting. Confiding in me. Drying my hair. Trying to brush it! Taking me out of school to drink cappuccinos. I would eat the foam, and you would drink the coffee. Then we would travel back, and I would look out of the windows. When I came to work with you, we’d have to get up early, and you had no idea what girls should look like! Talking in your sleep. Letting my friends sleep over. Buying me sweets. Letting us camp in the garden, and build dens in the house. I love you so much. Thank you. ”

Drosophila melanogaster.

Drosophila melanogaster is simply put- a fruit fly. I have been reading a book called 'Time, Love, Memory; A great biologist, and his quest for the origins of behaviour' by Jonathan weiner.

I cannot recommend a book more! Usually one for books that transport me to a romanticised Asia, such as 'Memoirs of a geisha'. This was more than a refreshing change! It was as though this book reached out from the pages, and used both hands to save my Phoenix of science from the ashes!

Why do I know that bacteria have approximately 7000 genes, fruit fly 15000, and humans 70,000? Why do I know that the drosophila can learn better without its head? That neurons are much more complicated than transistors. It has inspired me to research even! So from now on I will no longer brag as to having inherited 'good genes', but more aptly, good 'alleles'!

That the period gene controls their sense of time, and how relevant this is to us. We have without doubt got some sort of period gene ourselves. How interesting this is, now influenced, with regards to unnatural light, and demand of consciousness.

However aside from this I know that Seymour Benzer et al discovered the period gene. He also had a wife called Dotty, who died of cancer. Unfortunate. Though he then met Carol Miller. She was, and still is a neuropathologist. Together they carried out an experiment that quietly and beautifully influenced the way all scientists considered the molecular structure of drosophila/fruit fly. They were "little humans with wings". Also "Seymour’s antibodies stained just a small and specific portion of the retina in the human eye, and the equivalent portion of the retina in the eye of the fly ". So understandably, at the very least, this kind of discovery significantly aided the studies of diseases such as Huntington’s, and Parkinson’s, etc. Neurological studies were revolutionised.


Having searched links for this book, I have also realised he died December 12th, 2007. It is quite sad. As I can think of no one I would have rather met. Perhaps I could have done? Who knew? Fortunately his wife is still alive, though not getting any recognition in the article linked above.

The book also talks of Francis Galton, to whom the term "nature versus nurture" actually belonged. The way his concept of eugenics, and talk of a utopia, with 'fitter, and smarter' humans, influenced the construction, and processes of auswitch. An unfortunate consequence of Galtons research. Though amazing what one man and intrigue alone can do. For better, or for worse.


If one happens to get ones mind round to reading this, you will trade in your N64, for a go on this amazing game. Okay so perhaps it's not quite a 'game', but I assure you it is all you'll want to do after reading this book!!


Also above is a picture of a 'silhouette of a bird in flight'. Ethologists carried out such a simple experiment, that says so much about how little we mere mortals know. The silhouette from right bottom corner to top left looks like a hawk. From top left to bottom right, a goose. They did this movement with a silhouette in sight of newborn gooslings. The gooslings hid when the shape looked like a hawk going forwards, and came out when the silhouette went backwards. Appearing to be a fellow goose. That is basicall what the entire book attempts to clarify. Brilliant.

Nintendo 64...

007 Goldeneye.


I cannot believe this console is twelve years old! And I'm still thoroughly enjoying playing it! Of course, not so regularly as I was perhaps 6 years ago. I was 10 when this console came out, so my parents didn't let me get one until I was 14. I know though,given the opportunity, I would most defiantly play it daily! These days it's hard to get people in one place to give it the kind of appreciation it once received in my bedroom. Half a dozen kids sat round waiting for their turn. When N64 came out, correct me if I'm wrong, but did one,not shoot ones load in sublime euphoria. FOUR players! Because of course back in the day, we didn't have any of this four pad xbox, and playstation fiasco. Two pads was your limit, and by God were we more than satisfied with that.

In particularly I like 007 Goldeneye. On the second level one is able to commandeer a tank. A TANK! After packing away my RC-P90 I climb aboard my sturdy tank, and squish the effin' life out of all those inferior civilians. You know, the ones we're supposed to be protecting? Amazing!(when squished they gave a most convincing scream too! I've attached a video, you can skip to the squishing if you like. You know you want to.) Also was it just me, or did you religiously start a level that included Natalya Simonova by shooting her in the head, and then just restarting the level again. Such a liability.

With regards to the console appreciation, I cannot be more impressed than by these guys! Click here to see the kind of dedication I mean.

Along with my N64, SNES, Sega mega drive. I also inherited an Atari, that simply played pong.Even at the age of ten knew the significance of that little number. However much to my dismay, upon returning home one afternoon after school, my mother kindly presented me with a computer console that I can only imagine to be an early Nintendo. Obviously I was pleased. Though not so much when I enquired as to the whereabouts of my old console. "oh we've thrown it in the bin because it was dated". It was a sad day, and it gets ever sadder in retrospect! Although I can probably credit my enthusiasm for collecting these old consoles, due to experiencing such a loss at an early age! All things for a reason.

Anyway, as this one of my less intellectually stimulating posts, I feel I should end exactly how I began.

Nintendo, and computer consoles everywhere WE SALUTE YOU!

World wildlife federation.

I had a briefing yesterday at work. For the office temp job I am doing. The briefing was for The World Wildlife Federation. A representative of the charity came to speak specifically about the 'heart of Borneo' project . Stuart Chapman. It was very interesting. I have previously worked on campaigns for the BHF, and Barnados. Both excellent causes in themselves. However as a fan more so of our earth, than the humans who inhibit it. I was very much inspired by the cause. Not particularly Borneo, but the World wildlife federation as a whole. Unbeknown to me they don't just try to maintain the numbers of animals, but they also do a considerable amount to support the environments in which the animals, and humans live too. In Borneo particularly they are three new species a month.
Borneo rhinoceros
Clouded leopard

Art films...

Underware.

Okay so I like to be predictable and look at fashion videos on youtube. That's expected though. However what I do find, can be somewhat unexpected. People who wear underwear will probably be aware of a range called'agent provocateur'

However what you may not be aware of, are the short videos for it. Of course up until this year Kate Moss
was the face of the product. Leaving behind an unusual legacy for the campaign. I can appreciate the effort, but as a viewer, am I the only one who feels this is like Paris HIltons, badger esque sex tape, without the sex?

Clearly...

False truth's


Already this blog displays the sparkle of a million flawless diamonds, as a consequence of all the words I have so eloquently sugar coated. In sincere hope that you may devour them, like a bag full of traditional pear drops! The juicy kind, that you resented to share with your friends, but could never quite finish by yourself.
Though it is not. Is it? I mean this is indeed a true depiction of my life. However so translucent at times there is basically nothing to see. Although this is only my third post, and I have not even emerged at an official beginning. We are our biggest critics. Who said that?
Anyway, I was delighted to find that I was born the same year Guy Bourdin shot the Chanel advertising campaign. 1987. 7 days after my 4Th birthday he died in Paris aged 62. What an amazing photographer. http://www.guybourdin.org/

02:40am. I'm off to bed. Oyasumi nasi!!

Four months earlier...

A prelude, to the post below it!

Whilst staying at my sisters. Back from my maiden voyage. Having sailed from Germany to Denmark, and back, with the Army. At the cost of my finances, and fixed abode!

"The wonderful fairness abut life is that everyone is issued with one. Unfortunately some are shorter than others. Still. A whole one all the same. Everyone dies, including the stars. People are living longer than ever. Medicine is good. We do not yet have the cure for cancer, but it is possible in some cases. No cure for aids, but there are women immune to it. In them is the preventative. No one in Britian has to experience pain during surgery. Men, and Women are communicating more (for better, or worse!). Children are no longer given physical discipline (at least not legally). So we are more civilised than our predecessors. It’s interesting how society may consider us in retrospect. Only fifty years ago, the time of our grandfathers, did homosexuals get imprisoned for their acts, or at best put it mental asylums. As homosexuality was considered an illness. As I say, apart from the obvious, I do wonder where we are unknowingly going horribly wrong.


It is the following day, and I again sit on my sisters’ living room floor. Clacking at the entirely matt black, wartime issue typewriter. Having just attempted to call my partner with my SPVpc, personal digital assistant. Touch screen, and stylus. An impressive gadget at the time of writing, though serving little purpose with an unpaid phone bill! So my desperate, self patronising mind can’t even find solace in the words of my beau. I am wearing my sisters McKenzie, dark blue hoody. A pair of black tailored corduroyed trousers, which I believe go very well, with my riding boot esque boots. Hair in pigtails, as I feel it should be done whilst still endearing on me. It is 3:00pm. Being the winter season it’s already dark outside. When I leave the house, I will walk to my destination. The route is more than familiar, yet I will still feel completely lost along the way. This time of year the trees always look like they wish to uproot themselves, and follow me someplace warm. The grass is trying to retreat into the soil, and all the animals have either become estranged or seasonal hermits. Either way there’s none of them to observe. The world seems to shrink. Winter has various effects on my attitude. I am a little easier contented. Warm blankets, hot chocolate, and an old film is the extent of my desires. Perhaps a few long mornings in with the bow. Otherwise all aspirations subside. I appreciate this generally, as it stops me over doing things. However when one becomes financially challenged at this time of year, the prospect of traipsing around the city in the wind, snow, and rain is far from inspiring. Then after doing it once, or twice to no avail, the motivation depletes by at least another 50%. Add that to lack of response from at least forty emails you sent out in one day, and there is ones perfect concoction for a considerably low self esteemed individual. Ho hum. There’s still my youth, my looks, and the uncertified intelligence.

It's all just a walk on the beach really, isn't it? Beautiful no matter how short, and simple it is. One will leave varying depths of footprints, for random numbers of others to see. To then be secure in knowledge that no matter how significant our imprints, eventually it will all be forgotten. Everything is temporary. If you're having the time of your life. The situation will change. The worst time of your life. The situation WILL change. It is reassuring. So that is where I reside my thoughts to, in unfavourable times such as these."

Model me?

Live like nobody's watching.

So I am acknowledging the fact that I've been slack on the blogger front. If it reassures anyone who is genuinely concerned with my WWW faux pas. Please excuse me! It may comfort you somewhat to know I have been doing my bit on the face book scene. However back to the blogging business. Indeed I have finally made it to the smoke. My boyfriend has been living here two years already. He made it all the way from Australia. Myself, I have spent the past two years meaning to do so, a mere 2.5hrs away in Shropshire. It only costs £10 one way! (Virgin rail online). So the excuses for this are nil. There is no reason why I shouldn't have been here sooner! Having spent at least two days a month in London for the past couple of years. Before I met my partner, wishing I could move here permanently. It just took a while to find my balls as it were. Indeed I've shaken the straw from my hair, donned my enviable jacket, and strolled on into this fine town. So far having been officially living here 3 months, I am very happy. I am 20. So I feel in retrospect, that this is actually the most appropriate time to have arrived here. 18 was just under prepared, for both London, and I. Numerous things have happened, that will interest some. Bore the crap out of others. Depends.

While a friend pointed out Paul O’Grady (Lilly Savage) walking his dogs, she cried with delight, 'oh look it's him!!!’ I will never understand this? I saw Alan titchmarsh? Scottish girl from ugly betty/extras? Russell brand? urmmm....It's London? What the hell do people think? A-Z listers are hermits??
Anyway, it is funny to see some people I suppose. Though there's no need to go overboard!? I did a peculiar job last week or so. I basically had to sit, while a make-up (MU) artist pretended to do my make up. While Martine Mccutchion interviewed the mother of Gwen steffanis step daughter. I forget her name. Anyway, the show is called 'The truth about beauty'. Before I arrived, I naively assumed that it may be about the science behind beauty. Symmetry, social acceptance, the emotional implications, and mental perceptions behind it. However I quickly realised it was not! I was to merely look pretty. While they told other girls how to wear their belts higher, and that fat girls shouldn't wear stilettos, and skinnies shouldn't wear a wedge. Snooze! I'm not having a dig at Martine, though the show was a little shallow. As they are. I am content in London actually. I don't mean to be fundamentally British, and whinge or anything. Though I say contented, with a slight air of a most questionable disappointment. I have read George Orwell’s 'down and out, in Paris and London'. Of course I'm not entirely homeless. I did rely initially on my boyfriend, and his housemates. Though now it appears, I am fully on my feet. For the most part of my life I have had an affinity with cats. Mostly due to the obvious fact that no matter what the situation, they always seem to land on their feet. I have had a considerably eventful past. However always landing surreptitiously on my feet. Again like my feline friends. Looking somewhat bedraggled, and feeble at times I'll admit. Though with all four paws resting just the same! Though here I am with a glossy mane, graciously treading with cautious arrogance, about the fine relatively easy situation I find myself. Lovely, but making for quite the beige little piece of reading? What of the fabulous struggles? My rock, and roll style scrapping, up the slide of failure? It's all here. The office temp job. My diary jotted with modelling jobs, and a subject to study in September waiting in the wings. May I consider that I am speaking too soon? Or might I honestly believe that for once, that I have not spoken quite so soon enough!