Wednesday, May 30, 2007

i've lost control again

Last summer I was asked by one of the magazines I freelance for to do an urgent piece for them, an interview they'd just been granted that they wanted to get in the issue they were about to close. A day's turnaround is what they said. But fuck it, when they told me what it was, I jumped at it. It was a phone interview with Sam Riley during a break in filming Control. He seemed a sweet lad. It was pissing with rain, typically for England towards the end of August, and we spent a little too long taking the piss out of Nottingham (sorry Notts) where they were filming - and where I lived for three years whilst at uni. Obviously when it came to writing it all up I left that stuff out...

This recent buzz about it emanating from the Cannes Film Festival made me think of it again, and hunt down the trailer on youtube. Oh my. It just looks - well, I for one can't wait for this film to come out. Isn't Samantha Morton just a doll? And Sam Riley looks great. And I swear I see the Lenton tower blocks that I used to live right next to in Nottingham for all that time... Ahh the Church Estate and your crack whores, pre-teen delinquents, shootings, frequent fires and joy riders. Good times.

Read the article here. Watch the trailer (apols for the French subtitles, couldn't find a clean version) below.

My final thought on the matter: as the sister of an epileptic, should they really show Ian staring at a static tv screen?? I'd've thought he'd be writhing on the floor with just one look at it, like my sister would be. Meh.


Friday, May 25, 2007

ups 'n downs

Scott Pilgrim
Almost Famous
Sunshine, warmth and staying light past 10pm
Bank Holiday Motherfucking Weekend!
Current soundtrack of the best late 50s and 60s music
A mint-choc-chip and raspberry sorbet cone from Fouberts
The Hairspray trailer (John Travolta in drag!)
Iced coffee in the morning and dawdling into work

- -

Facebook groups that I can’t figure out how to work
Not being able to make myself write
Airplanes overhead at 4:30am that roar through the open window. The noise, I mean. Clearly not the actual airplane
Consistently dropping serotonin levels
Sisters disappearing for six months (on a trip we’d always planned to do together!)
This job

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

a sweet summer's night on... clapham junction

a sweet summer's night on...

As I wait on the platform at Clapham Junction (a rare trip to a part of the world I try to avoid at all costs), I marvel at how even tower blocks can look good against the dusk, and love that it's still not properly dark even at 10pm...

Torn On The Platform - Jack Penate

Monday, May 21, 2007

more dork action

Picture the scene: it's the wettest day in NY since 1977. Torrential rain. Subways flooded. We're in Brooklyn - Carroll Gardens to be precise - in a Japanese restaurant. Lauren and I are sat eating noodles (paid for with the $90 I've just been given as a reward, see earlier post). I ask how the boys' video shoot is going, as they're in LA that weekend for it.

"They have to wear lycra bodysuits."

I guffaw with laughter and try not to picture that too clearly as Lauren texts Ryland to make sure he takes lots of potentially embarrassing photos of aforementioned outfits for us to laugh over.

Six weeks later: the video appears on youtube. And whilst rocking the fake mustache look is one thing, the bodysuits are in a league of their own...



[Also, remember to vote...]

Saturday, May 05, 2007

ouch...

the morning after

The morning after.

Off screen: a drinks cabinet, half emptied, a kitchen stacked with dirty cocktail glasses, regular glasses, and even mugs, CDs scattered on the floor, vinyl stacked up against the shelves, builders in the apartment above making way too much noise at 8:30am...

After passing out at 5am after many many cocktails at L&J's pad in Hackney, I wake too early, move slightly, groan loudly, remember the shots of rose schnapps and rose vodka that seemed like a good idea, the joint that was passed round as we looked at teenage photos from the early '90s...

Realising I have plans I have to keep, I manage to stand upright and somehow make my way to Liverpool Street Station. My phone battery is dead, I have to use a call box. It's like going back in time. Not only do I have no idea how to use the fancy-pants machine, but the minimum fare is 40p. Bastards. I sit on the Hammersmith & City line, wishing for death, crawl off the tube and meet my sister, drag myself into the car with a groan, cancel our plans, make her take me home and spend the rest of the day in bed...

Friday, May 04, 2007

Somethin' filled up
my heart with nothin',
someone told me not to cry.

But now that I'm older,
my heart's colder,
and I can see that it's a lie.

Children wake up,
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust.

If the children don't grow up,
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
We're just a million little god's causin rain storms turnin' every good thing to
rust.

I guess we'll just have to adjust.