Cats, "The Disappearance of Alice Creed" and P4A

Callie is sat next to me, padding around and making mruh noises, because all of the thick white stuff outside makes her paws cold. The cats are fighting because they're bored and there isn't very much else to do.

I've been away from the internet for about two days now, mainly because I didn't really have anything I wanted to share with anyone, and so I kept away from Twitter and Facebook and here until I didn't have anything else to do.

Friday night was strange. In the time I'd spent being a teenager so far, I'd never been particularly drunk or smoked or other stuff that I'm supposed to screw up my youth by doing, until the other night when I suddenly tried a little too hard at being exciting and hardcore. Nothing very bad happened, just enough to make me realise that it's probably better to spend my free nights sat at home on my computer drinking mocha.
Is that bad?

The good news is that, The Things We Stumble Across/The Wall/my 75% written novel is safe! Two weeks or so ago, my beloved laptop took its fourth trip to our favourite repair shop after a virus from a chain email, and had to be wiped completley. I don't trust Norton very much, and I've lost a lot of random crap I'd written, and for a while I thought I'd lost my novel, until this morning I found a memory stick that it was on.
I am so, so thankful and relieved.

Last night I watched a movie called The Disappearance of Alice Creed and it was completley brilliant, and it scared me more than any film I've seen before. To begin, two men in balaclavas shop for some soundproofing in B&Q then kidnap a young girl. By the end, there's so much more reason to everything. It was extremely low budget, there were three actors we saw in the whole movie. It built up an incredible amount of tension and fear inside me, I remember sitting and trembling during one of the first few scenes. The plot and the characters' past is unravelled throughout the movie, with no flashbacks but simply conversation.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=oX-LOYRupUA
I also want you to watch this - one of my favourite musician's videos for something going on on Youtube called Project 4 Awesome. Kina Grannis is a brilliant singer-songwriter and also an incredible woman, and I really did cry watching this video, and it surprised me because although charities' causes have made me sad and sympathetic before I'm usually quite a heartless cow when it comes to crying, as I've mentioned a lot. After Christmas when I'm no longer broke, I really do plan to donate to LLS.

I hope you have a good week.

- lizzie

I'm Going To Talk About The Dresden Dolls (featuring Herr Max Raabe)

At first, I wanted to write this blog about awesome covers of Britney Spears' song "Hit Me Baby One More Time", but it turned into something else. I don't know why I thought I should explain this.

I've been a fan of Amanda Palmer's for quite a long time, but I'd never really listened to her band, the Dresden Dolls, until they recently announced a comeback tour. I didn't get to see Evelyn Evelyn and, in vain hope, I told myself that maybe their tour would end up in the UK within the next few months.

I know most of Amanda Palmer's music but I hadn't heard the Dresden Dolls, so I thought before I planned on buying tickets to their potentially non-existant concert I should get to know all of their songs.

I knew how awesome Amanda Palmer was, and I imagined that the band would be mostly her. I completley underestimated Brian Vigilone's awesomeness.
Because Brian Vigilone is not just a drummer; I think that drummers are often thought of the backbone of most bands, with the exceptions of Ringo Star, Carl Palmer, Tom *McSurname* from IAMX and Focus' drummer, embarassingly I can't actually recall many names of percussionists from some of my favourite bands.

I'll talk about the Dresden Dolls more another time - perhaps I really will get to see them soon, but that's not the point. The point is that one night during NaNoWriMo this year I sat down at my computer and procrastinated by exploring all of the Dolls' music through Youtube. One of the brilliant things about them is the covers that they do at their live shows, and because of how special they are I compiled a list of some of my favourites for you.
I think maybe it's also a sorry for all the self indulgent crap I've been venting here recently.

COVERS

Cover of Bon Jovi's Living On A Prayer
is perhaps my favourite, and definitely the funniest. Amanda on drums, Brian playing guitar, and Jason Webley's there because things are just more awesome when he is. I couldn't believe I hadn't realised that about the lyrics.

Another good one is Hit Me, Baby, One More Time
with somebody called Brendon Urie who I hadn't heard of before. Is that bad? Also, I squee'd at 2:33.
And this is how this week's blog almost ended up entirely a selection of hilarious covers of this song because of Max Raabe and the Palast Orchestra's version - in the style of 1920s German swing music. You'll find it. They deserve a blog to themselves, but it's wonderful.

Cover of Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of These)
by the Eurythmics is also pretty brilliant, because it's a mixture of guitars and drums and strings and the vocals sound pretty magic. Sxip Shirey's there too!

AND SOME OF MY FAVOURITES OF THE DOLLS' ORIGINAL SONGS
... because there aren't quite as many covers as I thought

I first heard Delilah when I was about 11 or 12, and I loved it, lost it and came back to the band years later. Look around, and you'll find a performance with just Amanda and a singer called Georgia something from a band called Bitter Ruin who are pretty awesome.
A brilliant song about friendship and anger and females.

One day soon I'm going to teach myself to play Coin Operated Boy on the piano (one day I'll explain how I only sort of play piano).
"But I know he feels like a boy should feel,
Isn't that the point?
That is why I want
A coin. Operated boy."
It's short and energetic and I'm never sure if it makes me laugh or feel faintly sad inside, because it's a brilliant example of how sometimes Amanda Palmer can write a cheerful song about something much more serious. The music video is good.

I haven't heard Shores of California as much as the others, but it's a really good song and a Youtube commenter made me laugh when comparing it to Katy Perry's "California Girls" song, because it makes you realise just what you're doing. It's upbeat, heavy on piano and in ways I feel weirdly like it's almost bordering on lounge music - just from the first verse or so. Sounds best spinning round on a chair at 2am.

And finally, Sing.
When I first heard this song recently, I was sure I'd heard it before somewhere. Maybe you've read about my take on crying - only the most random rel life situations make me cry, it takes an eventful movie but for music, it's easy. And this song gets me every time. It's beautiful, the lyrics are overpowering and make my stomach twist. It's one of the songs that made me fall in love with the Dolls. It's a demonstration of how Amanda Palmer just understands human beings. I'm pretty sure I want it at my funeral.
"Life is no cabaret,
We don't care what you say,
We're inviting you anyway,
You motherfuckers will sing some day."
it's LOVE.

I'll leave you with that today. Can you believe that took me a bit of Thursday, then forty five minutes just now to write?
Have a good week. Hope your doin' well.

Lizzie

Priorities, Nicci French Novels and Soul High Fives

Today somebody told me that I was being over-dramatic, and it scared me.

I'm pretty co-dependant in some ways, and I didn't realise it until recently. A lot of the time I'm around people, large groups of them, I get distressed and sulky and I shut myself off because I feel isolated or ignored or like I just don't really want to be there.
But I do like people. I like being alone with just one person, and usually any one person will do, because a one-to-one conversation is so much eassier to carry out that shouting and numerous topics and interruptions. If I get on well with somebody, to the point that conversation is so easy we're talking as we think things without encoding, it's like gold dust to me.* I met somebody a while ago who I was so similar to, and understood so well in some ways that it was as if they prodded through my intestines, set off wriggling motions in my stomach and high-fived my soul.

I also get attatched to objects and memories. M y drawers, my phone, my "C" drive are all full to the brim with things that I ignore and don't want to let go of. When I was a child I would stay up as late as I could the night after Christmas day because I didn't want it to end.

My French exchange partner has been so perfect and lovely over the last week she's been staying with me. We got on really well, her English is excellent and when I played her "I'll Be Your Man" (see last post) on the car radio she didn't ignore the music, like most people I play music to/at in cars, but she said she loved it and asked for the name of the song to write it down. On Thursday, I cried at random intervals throughout the day because I won't see her until March.
I felt pretty angry at my friend, who'd trotted into school at 12 o clock (we'd all had to be awake since 4am to drop the exchange students off, some had gone back home and spent the morning off school) and told me I was being over the top. But it was understandable. If it wasn't me, I would have quietly thought the same.

When my grandfather died, my mum called me; at the time, I was babysitting with my best friend.
"Grandpa George died," she told me, and the first thing I felt was guilt because I'd been talking cheerfully until then and then more guilt because I was surprised at just how much nothing I felt. I told Poppy, she hugged me, and I felt strange because I couldn't cry or feel or even think about it very much, at first.
Over the last year, exchange partners (German, then French) leaving have lead me into crying buckets but not deaths in the family, finding out the guy I thought I was in love with was in a relationship, even some really sad movies have possibly been more important but I never felt the same about any of those.
Apparently, I should sort my priorities out.

*Since last week's episode of The Apprentice, I've started using "gold dust" as a similie a lot. Forgive me.

___________________________________________________________

Again, that was a lot of self indulgent crap so I want to make up for it by talking about Nicci French.

Sean French and Nicci Gerrard are two ex journalists, I think, a married couple who write murder mystery novels and psychological thrillers under the joint penname Nicci French. As with a lot of books, I read "Losing You" on holiday because it was my mother's and I'd run out of my own books to read. It was brilliant, the twist in the ending was fantastic and I drank it all up within twenty four hours. I also read "Until It's Over", which I reaally liked and was beautifully written. it inspired me to want to write about roommates who were randomly thrown into living in a house together. And I did.
I was painfully disappointed when "Land of the Living" wasn't quite as good as the others, and now I think about it "What To Do When Someone Dies" was almost a waste of my time.

I don't know what the point to that was. You should give some Nicci French novels a try, especially if you like a story with a twist at the end - I do, and I was so shockingly delighted by "Losing You" that I think maybe my hopes were built up much too high by the time I read the others. But "Losing You" is absolutley excellent, and read some of their other books.
They're good. You'll like them.

There's no better method to communicate...

Every so often, I go through a phase, which maybe lasts around a month, where I start listening to a lot of James Blunt music.
One of the most clear memories I have of one of these periods is about two years ago, when I went to his concert when he was touring All The Lost Souls. He played the piano and an acoustic guitar, and ran all over the stage and through the lower crowd with very crazy eyes and it was brilliant - I only regret I didn't know more of that music at the time. I think that James Blunt show was one of the first times I came out of a gig feeling so fascinated and alive and almost drunk from it all, like it had changed everything, just a little.
After his album launch webcast the other night, I remembered how amazing James Blunt can seem, and a day of me rediscovering him followed, after our year and a half apart. Anyone who follows me on Twitter will possibly have been there the two hours I listened to a song called "I'll Be Your Man" from his new album, and the next day my parents gave me odd looks when I came downstairs in a turban towel and dressing gown after singing "I'LL BE YOUR MA-AH-A-A-AN!" happily in the shower.
Most British people will only have heard of James Blunt because of "You're Beautiful", a single about five years ago which was a bit of a one hit wonder. If that's the case, or if you just haven't heard of James Blunt at all, go listen.
From his new album, I like "Stay The Night" and "Superstar" the most, along with the song I mentioned up there. "I Really Want You" is utterly gorgeous, and others which you'll find through getting lost in the magical pathways of Related Videos.
Fun Fact - James Blunt and I have the same birthday.


It's Pudsey Bear day and I'm not sure why I'm still watching Children In Need. My parents went to bed, I'm sat here watching Celebrity Mastermind during the break and I really don't know why.

So. I finished NaNoWriMo. :D
No, that's a lie. I got to the point, late on Sunday night whilst 'Creep' by Radiohead was playing during the most emotional scene I think I've ever written when I crossed the 50k mark. But I'm realising that's not all of it. I have to actually finish the story, which is still far away, and I will but I'm slowing down the pace. For the first time, I love my characters and I don't want to leave them behind, like with Script Frenzy. They need their story to be told, and I have to do it because it keeps me sane, in a way.

Also this week I met - meaning emailed and talked to - my French exchange student, Isaline, who's coming to stay with me next week. She's nice, she plays guitar and writes and I think we're going to get on well :) Exciting.

I went to a write-in last week and it was a lot of fun, and the lovely Chester ML gave me stickers for being at 42k at the time, which made all of the late nights, caffeine imbalance, homework stress and social neglection worthwhile. I stuck my purple octopus sticker inside my locker at school, so that I feel like an American whenever I open it.

Enjoy your weekend. :)

Lizzie xx

On Neil Gaiman's birthday...

I had the dumbest conversation with someone today.

ME: You must know who David Bowie is. "Space Oddity"? "Under Pressure"? dum dum dum doo bee dum dum...

FRIEND: Uh... no. "Under Pressure" is by Vanilla Ice.

ME: Wh... ?

FRIEND: Yes.

ME: You're kidding me, you don't honestly think that? It's by Queen and David Bowie, Vanilla Ice sampled it like with Jason Derulo and...

FRIEND: Shut up. That version is rubbish.

I don't think I've ever wanted to slap somebody so hard.

So I finished watching The Only Way Is Essex, a guilty pleasure, and got in and out of the shower. I have a little more to add to my wordcount today, because 40,000 is a nice, neat number to end on for the day, and I swear I'm not procrastinating but I can't possibly write a novel when my hair is wet?! So I came to write here, and today I may actually have something worthwile to say.

Today is Neil Gaiman's fiftieth birthday. Neil Gaiman is a very, very brilliant writer. You'll have heard of him because of Stardust, Coraline, and maybe even the Sandman graphic novels/comics but the reason I like Neil Gaiman so much is because of his short stories.
I'll tell you a story about how I came across Neil Gaiman.
When I was around twelve years old, I really liked a computer game called The Sims 2, and I ended up joining the EA Games UK forum. I made some friends there and a lot of them seemed pretty into a band called The Dresden Dolls. This was a long time ago and I didn't really appreciate music like that back then, but I did love the song Delilah which I still have on my iPod from the first time around.
I came across The Dresden Dolls again rather recently, because a year or so I started listening to Amanda Palmer.
I don't just like listening to Amanda Palmer because of her music. I think that that's only a proportion of the reasons she is awesome, the other being the internet. Every so often I will read one of Amanda Palmer's blog entries and start to shake a little, because it portrays exactly something I've felt, or I will hope to feel. A few days ago, Amanda wrote here about a band she loved in her teens called The Legendary Pink Dots, and it made me smile and laugh and feel about twenty times, because it's exactly how I want to live.
I heard of Neil Gaiman, of course, through Twitter, because he's Amanda's fiancé and also the favourite writer of a lot of friends I've made in the last year. These things lead me to go read something by Neil Gaiman, simply out of curiosity. One weekend I was shopping with some of my friends and searched almost violently through all the shelves for anything by Neil Gaiman. I bought Stardust, in amazement that I'd had no idea it was a novel first, and Fragile Things, the book of short stories that in certain ways has changed the way that I see the world.
I suppose all of that was my way of telling you to read Neil Gaiman novels, listen to Amanda Palmer and The Dresden Dolls and maybe even The Legendary Pink Dots.

NaNoWriMo is going very well - by the time anyone reads this, I hope I'll probably have reached forty thousand words. Most of it is garbage, but I'm proud of me. Forty thousand words is a lot of words, to write in a week and a bit. Plus, my homework isn't getting too neglected either; no NaNo inflicted detentions, yet. Yay. :)

Now I have to go. I have to write 1k more, and listen to a band called Hollywood Undead to prove to my friend that I'm open-minded.

Subliminal Messaging

Something weird happened today, and I don't feel very safe here anymore. I realised in the bath just now that, a little like in Joanne Harris' blueyedboy my blog doesn't just possibly have an Albertine who reads it but also a JennyTricks. And she isn't trying to kill me, not quite, but it was weird walking into school and having quotations from my own writing shouted at me.

I'm going to try and carry on as if nothing's happened.

I'm writing this to prove a point, but it's out of time which I don't really have; I haven't done anything towards my NaNo today and also my homework is growing and catching up to the point that I can't ignore it anymore. I planned on getting going as soon as I got home from school, I promise, but then I was watching TV, and then eating dinner and then in the bath and then asleep in the bath, and I've done none of it.

Today, I asked one of my friends, "If you could be anyone in the world for a day, who would it be?"
He shrugged, simply. "I don't know."
"Okay, how about this one," I persisted. "Any five people in the world for dinner at your house. Who would they be, what would you eat...?"
"No idea. And chicken caeser wraps, with bacon."
I don't know why, but I felt annoyed that he hadn't even considered it. I ask people that all of the time - sometimes famous people doing Q&As on twitter, who mostly seem to choose family and friends, and my own family and friends, who'll choose famous people.
I was a mind blown by the fact that he hadn't even thought about it. One night I asked my best friend this, and we both tried to come up with our five. We struggled, so pushed to ten, then unlimited, then went into extravegent detail whilst planning the seating plans and order of performances and the buffet, which Mrs Beaver and Monica Gellar-Bing had prepared between them. Today, instead my friend went on to change the subject and ask about which accent I'd have, if I could choose.
"Canadian," I told him.
"Awesome. I'd take Irish."
"Northern or Southern?"
He shrugged. "Irish."
A group of us spent a few minutes trying to say "about" (ah-boot) in a Canadian way, and then it all seemed pretty much over.
That's all for today. I have to go to a website called mymaths now. For once, homework > NaNo.

Lizzie xx

What've we got, got, got to lose?

I want to say hi to my awesome friend Beth Holmes. I got an email from her Friday night, saying that she'd read my blog and that it was beautiful and made her cry. I felt happy for a long long time after that.

Last night, I went to see Imogen Heap at the Royal Albert Hall.
This is going to be a long blog.
Know that I also saw Immi a week ago, in Liverpool, and that was a small, intimate standing up venue. There were several times I thought I made eye contact with my absolute hero. Afterwards, she signed my ticket (we didn't meet her, but it's a long story, and I met some brilliant and lovely people in the queue, whilst half of me felt sad for my ashtmatic friend, choking on the fumes from my new friends' cigarette smoke). It was an epic gig. I'd go as far as saying better than the time in February, and even more so maybe than the Royal Albert Hall, which I wasn't expecting. It was just completley different, I suppose. The Albert Hall was beautiful and grand and amazing, the orchestra was so powerful, but compared to the other two shows I'd been at, I felt disconnected and faraway. In our area, only Poppy and I sang "Just For Now". I'd say if I had to choose, between only going to one gig, I'd choose a small Academy show. But I didn't: I'm lucky enough that a woman named Antonia let Poppy and I stay at their house, and that my dad came to Liverpool with me and so many people I know try hard to understand, and meet my odd little addictions. But I loved being in the Albert Hall last night. I'm NaNo-ing and I don't have time to talk about the shows as much as I want to.
But I think my footage may have been used in Love The Earth. :D
London was wonderful, Poppy and I ran around a lot being late for the tube and other trains. it rained. I left my red umberella behind in the Royal Albert Hall (on the off chance Immi reads this, may I have it back if you found it :p?). And after the movie in the interval, I had what I'll consider as my first ever big heart-to-heart conversation, which sounds lame. But it was in the Royal Albert Hall, with my best friend, about to see my favourite musician, and I got things off of my chest. Now Poppy knows what she deserves to. It should be all over, really. Only I just mentioned it on Teh Internetz, so I suppose that made it slightly more real.

NaNoWriMo is going really well. I haven't been to any write-ins yet, but my word count is much ahead of what it needs to be and I don't know why. This year, I love my characters and everything's very easy all of a sudden, it's great. Right now I'm sat eating a plate of noodles at my desk. I barely have time to write this, because I told one of my friends that if I've not written 30k by Monday, she can slap me, three times. Tonight I plan to stay up late and write the 5k I need to, and then tomorrow, go out for breakfast with my friends.
I won't lie. It makes me feel brilliantly important that I don't quite have time to write a blog.

I'm happy at the moment, I think. There's nothing going on really anymore. Things are calm and still. I think I've realised, after several things that have happened, I want to live in the moment now.

Remember all that stuff I said, about still and calm. I'll be complaining about living where I do, soon, and that I'm stressed and lonely and that nothing is going on. it's all still true. But going to see Imogen Heap just stays in my mind for a few days, and clears away the cobwebs.

I'll go write now.

If you're reading this, I do love you.

Lizzie xx