Saturday, July 16
Just a couple of shout-outs (shouts-out?). James, the Pink Floyd album I was talking about is called The Division Bell (I like the reviewer's phrase "Floydian slip" :p).
Hal, on Wednesday night there was a programme all about Lauren Bacall!! I can't believe I missed it...
Hal, on Wednesday night there was a programme all about Lauren Bacall!! I can't believe I missed it...
Friday, July 15
This has been a rather cool week, which I'll summarise briefly because I really should go to bed.
On Tuesday evening I went to the abode of theBlode Odge, where once again yearbooking was overridden by laziness (well he's lost all the forms anyway). Instead we chatted with Cat and Zeebee about Crete and the like, which was nice as always.
After not much sleep, O-J managed not to get up in time to see Nadine on her birthday before she went to school - something which seems to be a knack of his, as for the last two years he's been away on CCF camp at the opportune time. So we drove up to OHS to wait for her outside while the end-of-term festivities were in full flow in the Hall. While waiting, I got a worried phone call from Cat who seemed to think I was stalking her. Naturally I assured her I was and told her I'd see her later. When Nadine and co finally emerged, after a brief hello and goodbye O-J left with Sam Bright to go to Spain. I, however, got back in the car as driven to Cherwell boathouse, where I was to punt 5 of Nadine's friends up to the Victoria Arms. After a slightly hairy start where I managed to end up facing the wrong way, nestled comfortably in the opposite bank, I then managed to overtake Oliver's punt, in which was a girl who can do a crazy impression of Janice from Friends. I think my feet got sunburnt. (Unrelated.)
At the pub, because of the signs plastered all around saying "No picnics" I scouted around and found a little area secluded from the main garden where we might be able to do just such a thing. I neglected to notice it was covered in thistles. Rebecca filled me in on how, in her new job, she had succeeded in breaking every machine she had laid a finger on. Congrats on that. An uneventful return punt ride later (I had a different girl, whose crew's favourite phrase seems to be "piece of nature" - ???) I caught a bus back to The Juice's to get ready for the ball (and steal his cufflinks and shoes).
Walking down to the twins' to get a lift, James arrived in his car and intercepted me - thanks for that; Kieran had given me two more bags to carry down there in addition to my two, and it was a blooming hot day, so you may just have saved my life.
The hall looked really nice, with (real!) ivy and fairy lights adorning every surface and pillar (well done with that, Cat!). All the girls looked amazing, but none more so than Kieran. (Love ya lodas!) The meal was really nice, as, surprisingly for me, was the champagne and white wine; I'm afraid red still mings, along with sparkling water +o(. Everything about it made it a really nice evening. The photos taken by that photographer can be found here (thanks Polly!)
Afterwards, most people went to the Bridge, but Zee, Liv and I held back at the last minute and didn't get on the bus. Instead I had a little chat with Jamal, who was possibly a little past-it, which was cool nevertheless. I hadn't realised he'd be going to Cambridge at the same time as the rest of us (grades permitting), so that'll be cool.
Back at the Morrows', we started to watch RHPS, after I revealed I hadn't actually seen it, much to James's and the twins' horror (ho ho). However, due to the lateness of the hour, I began to doze off, so instead, when the others arrived home, Zeebee and I decided to make chocolate/Nutella-and-marshmallow-coated Crunchy nut cornflakes (they're Ludicrously Tasty!). We were then summoned to play American Monopoly, which was really fun actually - I wonder how long we actually played for until James finally won (with me coming 2nd!). After some Goldeneye and Mario Kart it was finally time for bed, and thus ended a hugely tiring but very cool day.
On Tuesday evening I went to the abode of the
After not much sleep, O-J managed not to get up in time to see Nadine on her birthday before she went to school - something which seems to be a knack of his, as for the last two years he's been away on CCF camp at the opportune time. So we drove up to OHS to wait for her outside while the end-of-term festivities were in full flow in the Hall. While waiting, I got a worried phone call from Cat who seemed to think I was stalking her. Naturally I assured her I was and told her I'd see her later. When Nadine and co finally emerged, after a brief hello and goodbye O-J left with Sam Bright to go to Spain. I, however, got back in the car as driven to Cherwell boathouse, where I was to punt 5 of Nadine's friends up to the Victoria Arms. After a slightly hairy start where I managed to end up facing the wrong way, nestled comfortably in the opposite bank, I then managed to overtake Oliver's punt, in which was a girl who can do a crazy impression of Janice from Friends. I think my feet got sunburnt. (Unrelated.)
At the pub, because of the signs plastered all around saying "No picnics" I scouted around and found a little area secluded from the main garden where we might be able to do just such a thing. I neglected to notice it was covered in thistles. Rebecca filled me in on how, in her new job, she had succeeded in breaking every machine she had laid a finger on. Congrats on that. An uneventful return punt ride later (I had a different girl, whose crew's favourite phrase seems to be "piece of nature" - ???) I caught a bus back to The Juice's to get ready for the ball (and steal his cufflinks and shoes).
Walking down to the twins' to get a lift, James arrived in his car and intercepted me - thanks for that; Kieran had given me two more bags to carry down there in addition to my two, and it was a blooming hot day, so you may just have saved my life.
The hall looked really nice, with (real!) ivy and fairy lights adorning every surface and pillar (well done with that, Cat!). All the girls looked amazing, but none more so than Kieran. (Love ya lodas!) The meal was really nice, as, surprisingly for me, was the champagne and white wine; I'm afraid red still mings, along with sparkling water +o(. Everything about it made it a really nice evening. The photos taken by that photographer can be found here (thanks Polly!)
Afterwards, most people went to the Bridge, but Zee, Liv and I held back at the last minute and didn't get on the bus. Instead I had a little chat with Jamal, who was possibly a little past-it, which was cool nevertheless. I hadn't realised he'd be going to Cambridge at the same time as the rest of us (grades permitting), so that'll be cool.
Back at the Morrows', we started to watch RHPS, after I revealed I hadn't actually seen it, much to James's and the twins' horror (ho ho). However, due to the lateness of the hour, I began to doze off, so instead, when the others arrived home, Zeebee and I decided to make chocolate/Nutella-and-marshmallow-coated Crunchy nut cornflakes (they're Ludicrously Tasty!). We were then summoned to play American Monopoly, which was really fun actually - I wonder how long we actually played for until James finally won (with me coming 2nd!). After some Goldeneye and Mario Kart it was finally time for bed, and thus ended a hugely tiring but very cool day.
Monday, July 11
Yesterday I was up uncharacteristically earlier (especially for a Sunday) to head into school, of all places. Twas the day of the Festival of Voices, in which Sam, Peter and I had been enlisted to play by the mother of one of the Junior School kids who organises it.
On the coach there, having kicked the juniors off the back seat, one of them told Peter he knew him and he was annoying - Peter didn't know who he was. A different kid, when trying to guess what I played, guessed electric guitar, drums, bass - he apparently thought I looked like a rock star. Which was nice. My family have at various times told me I look like a pianist or 'from the O.C.' before, so I guess I can pass as anything. A third kid then tried to get us to work out the following riddle: "From the eater comes meat, from the strong comes sweet." The answer apparently has something to do with Samson tearing a lion apart or something, but I'm quite sure it made no sense at all.
On arrival, we were taken to the hall, which is massive, then shown to our dressing room. Dressing room. Cool much?!? We then decided to go for a wander around Wembley (the gig was in the Wembley Conference Centre), taking a stroll through the Sunday market. God it was crowded. And very empty of white people. Eventually we managed to make our way back to the hall, and retired to our dressing room.
The rehearsal at half three was .. interesting. We played through the Mozart, which was all good, then Sam and I rehearsed the Olly Wedgwood ones we were doing, which were more worrying. Between squeaky-clarinet issues, microphone echoes and asynchronisation we became rather nervous.
Before the concert itself began at 5, we picked some strategically-placed seats and sat down, to be kicked out later by some Americans who'd come 5000 miles just to see this. A little excessive? We moved again only to find someone else wanting to sit there. Finally we settled, and the concert proceeded. Thankfully all our pieces, over two sets, went fine, and we were very surprised to be given a single white rose each (except Peter, who received an unwrapped pink one), just like the band. On the way back, there were two spectra on clouds on the same side of the sky as the sun; can any geographers or anyone else explain that? (Obviously it can't've had anything to do with rain, not least as it wasn't raining :s.) Anyway, it was a hot and tiring day, but certainly an experience playing in front of ~2000 people!
On a meteorological theme, the niceness of today is apparently going to cause thunder on Thursday :D. Hopefully it won't get as hot as it apparently was in Crete (30 degrees, I hear)! Welcome back you lot - hope you didn't melt!
On the coach there, having kicked the juniors off the back seat, one of them told Peter he knew him and he was annoying - Peter didn't know who he was. A different kid, when trying to guess what I played, guessed electric guitar, drums, bass - he apparently thought I looked like a rock star. Which was nice. My family have at various times told me I look like a pianist or 'from the O.C.' before, so I guess I can pass as anything. A third kid then tried to get us to work out the following riddle: "From the eater comes meat, from the strong comes sweet." The answer apparently has something to do with Samson tearing a lion apart or something, but I'm quite sure it made no sense at all.
On arrival, we were taken to the hall, which is massive, then shown to our dressing room. Dressing room. Cool much?!? We then decided to go for a wander around Wembley (the gig was in the Wembley Conference Centre), taking a stroll through the Sunday market. God it was crowded. And very empty of white people. Eventually we managed to make our way back to the hall, and retired to our dressing room.
The rehearsal at half three was .. interesting. We played through the Mozart, which was all good, then Sam and I rehearsed the Olly Wedgwood ones we were doing, which were more worrying. Between squeaky-clarinet issues, microphone echoes and asynchronisation we became rather nervous.
Before the concert itself began at 5, we picked some strategically-placed seats and sat down, to be kicked out later by some Americans who'd come 5000 miles just to see this. A little excessive? We moved again only to find someone else wanting to sit there. Finally we settled, and the concert proceeded. Thankfully all our pieces, over two sets, went fine, and we were very surprised to be given a single white rose each (except Peter, who received an unwrapped pink one), just like the band. On the way back, there were two spectra on clouds on the same side of the sky as the sun; can any geographers or anyone else explain that? (Obviously it can't've had anything to do with rain, not least as it wasn't raining :s.) Anyway, it was a hot and tiring day, but certainly an experience playing in front of ~2000 people!
On a meteorological theme, the niceness of today is apparently going to cause thunder on Thursday :D. Hopefully it won't get as hot as it apparently was in Crete (30 degrees, I hear)! Welcome back you lot - hope you didn't melt!
Saturday, July 9
Let us just say that multi-storey car-parks, uphill slopes, faulty handbrakes and me in the driver's seat is not a very good combination. erk
I found something...interesting the other day while surfing, though I have no idea how I got there. Unless it was while searching for Tsuliwaënsis. But anyway, it's called 'The Grate Book of Moo' and seems to be some sort of parody of the Bible or something, perhaps written by the 'High Preest Floyd Gecko' (Guy, that's one for you)..it's really confusing, but also rather amusing:
All rights reserved except the right to reserve all rights except the one used to reserve most of the rights except the right to reserve all rights but this one. All rites reversed.
[1]An Identacle is similar to a Pentacle, but not really identical. It is only used in summoning spirits of siamese twins. This is a common source of confusion, since it is also an adjective which means "totally different". -Steve
Or, in the "Syntax and general guidelines for MOO":
00002) MOO is always in caps. This is because I say so, and I'm the High Preest.
...
00005) Always, ALWAYS, ALWAYS (Well, sometimes), use the 5‑digit
Apparently "The words "BOOK" and "ANNOYING MIND DRUG" can be used interchangeably." I'm sure that's deep somehow.
Anyway, congrats to Hal on passing his theory, commis to Sam on an unlucky 3-point-turn, and Freddie is the greatest person ever[2].
Any of the guys who got the email I sent "from O-J" and have ignored it, please actually do send in your forms! On that subject, does anyone know when they get back from Crete? Is it tomorrow?
Kieran, when are you having that party?
[2]..to work at Daylesford - Eh, Steve.
Wednesday, July 6
Just a quick note to make sure all y'all check out the new links added. Hope all the Lydian/cinematic peeps had a fab time today!
So much for what I said about the weather :p
So much for what I said about the weather :p
As the weather shows no sign whatsoever of improving and inspiring me to go outside and get some fresh air, I find myself back here, so I might as well talk about the end of last week.
On Friday evening, our french class (and Mr 'James' Baker) went to dinner at Madame Staton's house in Charlbury; she had cooked an entire 'Buffet Campagnard' and it was amazing. The whole night was so much fun - as it was only me and Hal there out of 'da crew' we actually did talk to other people. The two Toms were much amused by Hal proclaiming he didn't think much of Madrigals earlier that evening because the Duke of Gloucester "was a twat, really". But that class really does contain most of the nicest people in the year (most of whom I've now discovered are Carole King fans), and it was really nice to be in their company and chat with them, something I haven't really done over the 7 years I've known most of them. After dinner, we were serenaded on guitar (it seemed everyone there played it!), then guitar and violin. In fact, there was barely a moment when there wasn't someone sitting calmly, chillaxed, strumming on a guitar, while people dozed, chatted and laughed happily around him: such a nice atmosphere. And of course we had a couple of singalongs to the likes of Tears In Heaven, House of the Rising Sun (en français) and Can You Feel The Love Tonight (and of course an astounding rendition of Flocon Papillon by Jonny and Brendan). Come 2am I was, for the first time since breaking up, truly sad that I'm not really going to see some of these guys again.
Then of course came Tom's and O-J's party the following day. My mum had managed to find an old 40s (not 20s as I had thought, and told people at the party..) double-breasted jacket, complete with braces on the trousers, and a pretty funky tie. I then proceeded to drive to Cassington thusly attired, with a 60s hippie in the back by the name of Sam "Peace" Burnand.
The party itself was, as Sam would say, very groovy; it was really cool to see everyone else's costumes (except perhaps Lunney's), which I reckon gave the party a funky atmosphere. The food was delish (and it made quite a dish), if ever so slightly badly-thought-out in terms of napkin availability :p. But the little cakes of O-J and the PhoebeTom more than made up for it by being so damn classy. And who'd've thought O-J had been so into trees from such an early age...
Back at Tom's for the afterparty, there was a (spontaneous?) recreation of May morning, minus Guy; many thanks to Polly for bravely providing some sort of melody over the caterwauling. Then later on, for the second time in 24 hours, I was sitting in the lounge, chatting quietly to Hal as he tinkled about jazzily on the piano.
Whew, that was kinda longer than anticipated. On a different note, here's as good a place as any to wish Lizzy Happy Birthday! And all you Cretians (Cretins?) had better send me a postcard!
On Friday evening, our french class (and Mr 'James' Baker) went to dinner at Madame Staton's house in Charlbury; she had cooked an entire 'Buffet Campagnard' and it was amazing. The whole night was so much fun - as it was only me and Hal there out of 'da crew' we actually did talk to other people. The two Toms were much amused by Hal proclaiming he didn't think much of Madrigals earlier that evening because the Duke of Gloucester "was a twat, really". But that class really does contain most of the nicest people in the year (most of whom I've now discovered are Carole King fans), and it was really nice to be in their company and chat with them, something I haven't really done over the 7 years I've known most of them. After dinner, we were serenaded on guitar (it seemed everyone there played it!), then guitar and violin. In fact, there was barely a moment when there wasn't someone sitting calmly, chillaxed, strumming on a guitar, while people dozed, chatted and laughed happily around him: such a nice atmosphere. And of course we had a couple of singalongs to the likes of Tears In Heaven, House of the Rising Sun (en français) and Can You Feel The Love Tonight (and of course an astounding rendition of Flocon Papillon by Jonny and Brendan). Come 2am I was, for the first time since breaking up, truly sad that I'm not really going to see some of these guys again.
Then of course came Tom's and O-J's party the following day. My mum had managed to find an old 40s (not 20s as I had thought, and told people at the party..) double-breasted jacket, complete with braces on the trousers, and a pretty funky tie. I then proceeded to drive to Cassington thusly attired, with a 60s hippie in the back by the name of Sam "Peace" Burnand.
The party itself was, as Sam would say, very groovy; it was really cool to see everyone else's costumes (except perhaps Lunney's), which I reckon gave the party a funky atmosphere. The food was delish (and it made quite a dish), if ever so slightly badly-thought-out in terms of napkin availability :p. But the little cakes of O-J and the PhoebeTom more than made up for it by being so damn classy. And who'd've thought O-J had been so into trees from such an early age...
Back at Tom's for the afterparty, there was a (spontaneous?) recreation of May morning, minus Guy; many thanks to Polly for bravely providing some sort of melody over the caterwauling. Then later on, for the second time in 24 hours, I was sitting in the lounge, chatting quietly to Hal as he tinkled about jazzily on the piano.
Whew, that was kinda longer than anticipated. On a different note, here's as good a place as any to wish Lizzy Happy Birthday! And all you Cretians (Cretins?) had better send me a postcard!
Saturday, July 2
As this came up during the French dinner yesterday evening (which I'll talk more about some other time), I decided to investigate. They were talking about Stairway to Heaven played backwards, which I'd heard about but never heard before, so I did a wee search and found a site with several clips of songs forwards and backwards, and even if you don't listen to any of the others, I really recommend you listen to that one; admittedly it doesn't make much sense the first time if you don't ask it to show you the backwards lyrics, but once you know what you're looking for it's very strange indeed.
That then reminded me of what Hal told me about, several months ago, which was 'Turn me on, dead man'. This comes from playing the Beatles' 'Revolution #9' backwards. This is SERIOUSLY weird. Even if you don't believe all the hoaxes about Paul being dead this will creep you out. You can find it here (it's a ~7MB download tho!). If you listen to it, the interesting bit starts at roughly 5.20:
A siren, with what sounds like a newsreader babbling over the top; car horns honking, as in a flashback reconstruction; strings build up to one note and fade out; silence except elegiac choir and continuing newsreader; fire engine bells. "Turn me on dead man." 'Paul' screaming GET ME OUT! OUT! "Turn me on dead man. Turn me on dead man." Noise escalates, choir continues, strings creep you out. Pain-stricken panting: "Aagh! hh-aaggh!" "Turn me on, dead man."
What's stranger is how the strings, eerie choir and the piano parts all seem to sound better backwards than forwards, as though they were actually put in backwards.
Turn me on, dead man
That then reminded me of what Hal told me about, several months ago, which was 'Turn me on, dead man'. This comes from playing the Beatles' 'Revolution #9' backwards. This is SERIOUSLY weird. Even if you don't believe all the hoaxes about Paul being dead this will creep you out. You can find it here (it's a ~7MB download tho!). If you listen to it, the interesting bit starts at roughly 5.20:
A siren, with what sounds like a newsreader babbling over the top; car horns honking, as in a flashback reconstruction; strings build up to one note and fade out; silence except elegiac choir and continuing newsreader; fire engine bells. "Turn me on dead man." 'Paul' screaming GET ME OUT! OUT! "Turn me on dead man. Turn me on dead man." Noise escalates, choir continues, strings creep you out. Pain-stricken panting: "Aagh! hh-aaggh!" "Turn me on, dead man."
What's stranger is how the strings, eerie choir and the piano parts all seem to sound better backwards than forwards, as though they were actually put in backwards.
Turn me on, dead man
Friday, July 1
Grr. Bouncers are not on my list of favourite people. Well, neither is anyone else as this list doesn't actually exist, but they would not be on the list were I to make one. Letting O-J in but not me...tsk. Still, I did have a nice time in the pub with Tom and Lunney, and the plumber dude who looked vaguely like a more tanned version of Mr Collins. Well, not WITH the plumber. He was just..around. Anyway, many thanks to Hal for letting us stay over, and also to Kieran and Freddie for leaving early to come home with me. And singing Spice Girls. Much appreciated. Soph, I hope you had a good time! I'm sure we can celebrate your birthday again when it comes round...and we're both actually 18! :p
This morning was a random old time. After being evicted from Hal's house because prospective buyers probably wouldn't find us a valid selling point, Kieran and I wandered to Summertown to get food and await buses. When he left an hour later, I meandered back down into town, on an impulse taking a diversion down Belbroughton Road, under the impression I'd be able to get back out later on, and who should be standing outside OHS but PJ and Jess! We had a little chat, and they then directed me, mid-3-point-turn, to go through some park to some traffic lights on some end of Summertown, leading me to Marston Ferry road via Belgium and....I was confused. When they (the instructions) were cut off by a car heading straight for them (the girls, not the instructions), I found this park, saw no exit, and so just retraced my steps back up to Banbury road via Belbroughton. Sorry girls!
Walking back up to the bus stop, the twins drove past me, heading to school. (I'll give you the money tomorrow!) Then while standing at the bus stop Cat arrived. She then hopped on a bus, Polly hopped off a different bus, Hattie appeared on the other side of the road, and after a rib-crushing hug I jumped on my own bus which I thought I'd missed talking to Cat. Told you it'd been a strange day.
I then pioneered the use of the good old thrice-daily Bicester-Fringford bus, which kinda creeped me out. Every now and then a really eerie sort of tinkling high-pitched sequence of notes would float through the bus, presumably from the brakes or something, but unrelated to our acceleration/deceleration. I'm just waiting to see if the day can get any stranger.
This morning was a random old time. After being evicted from Hal's house because prospective buyers probably wouldn't find us a valid selling point, Kieran and I wandered to Summertown to get food and await buses. When he left an hour later, I meandered back down into town, on an impulse taking a diversion down Belbroughton Road, under the impression I'd be able to get back out later on, and who should be standing outside OHS but PJ and Jess! We had a little chat, and they then directed me, mid-3-point-turn, to go through some park to some traffic lights on some end of Summertown, leading me to Marston Ferry road via Belgium and....I was confused. When they (the instructions) were cut off by a car heading straight for them (the girls, not the instructions), I found this park, saw no exit, and so just retraced my steps back up to Banbury road via Belbroughton. Sorry girls!
Walking back up to the bus stop, the twins drove past me, heading to school. (I'll give you the money tomorrow!) Then while standing at the bus stop Cat arrived. She then hopped on a bus, Polly hopped off a different bus, Hattie appeared on the other side of the road, and after a rib-crushing hug I jumped on my own bus which I thought I'd missed talking to Cat. Told you it'd been a strange day.
I then pioneered the use of the good old thrice-daily Bicester-Fringford bus, which kinda creeped me out. Every now and then a really eerie sort of tinkling high-pitched sequence of notes would float through the bus, presumably from the brakes or something, but unrelated to our acceleration/deceleration. I'm just waiting to see if the day can get any stranger.
