boop

beep

The Friends

THE FRIENDS can connect in a mysterious way without even speaking.

Perhaps they have AMAZING MAGICAL POWERS.

Perhaps they are both just PECULIAR IN THE HEAD.

http://www.edwardmonkton.com

A little bit of magic

Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

If I were ever to compile a list of things that make Britannia less complete than it could be, a Disney Park would figure fairly prominently. What little experience I had was back when I was four, and such fleeting memories provide little of substance to truly dwell on in the dark hours that come. What Britannia does manage to get is the whole Disney on Ice extravaganza. It's probably not as nostalgic as it is jaw-droppingly wonderful though.

The desparate bid to obtain tickets after Ticketmaster insisted they were sold out weeks in advance made for quite an exciting runup to eid. Actually obtaining seats as fantastic as the ones we sat in was quite miraculous to say the least. But 3:45 on Monday it was, and finally that leave I had applied for paid off.

The moment we got there made it seem like the entrance to Disney Land anyway. What with the multitude of people selling colourful pink and purple balloons, frilly hats and winding light-up toys, it was a shame none of it was entireuly suitable anymore. A sea of children rushed around dressed in their frilly costumes and bubbling with excitement. And there was the massive Wembley Arch thing, rising over a fun little fountain complete with alternating mood lights. But that's really only the outside.

So we went through more fun stalls, and sat down. The lights went out. Little flicker lights people had bought otuside suddenly filled the massive hall in a variety of colours. And then in came Mickey and Minnie XD Followed by dazzling shows with the most brilliant skate-choreography for pieces from Aladdin, Sleeping Beauty, Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Mulan and Snow White (for who everyone went wild. Fabulous really!). And the intermission was followed by a brilliant remake of major portions from Cinderella. Joy joy joy. I'd write more but that would kill it. Though Mulan was cut insanely short, and Gaston was a bit psychotic, everything else was perfect. And while the video trailer and pictures can't even begin to capture any of it (so I'm glad I didn't take a camera!), I can at least point that out.

http://www.disney.co.uk/disneyonice/princessclassics/

Yes, well the name's only due to the focus. And it was so pink! Can't wait to go again next year...

In other news, I can now officially have lunch again. Though I'm still so used to that, haven't even bothered to have any water yet. And there's only under 3.5 hours to go. Much wishings of goodness and all, etc etc etc.

Party on dudes.

17th October 2006

They say that this day was absolutely irrelevant in the grander scheme of things. Which is why they picked it of course. For its remarkable degree of banality. When making a virtual time-capsule and hoping that this one actually lasts all the way through time, it's best to see just how ordinary life could be. A Tuesday no less! Worst day of the week really, what with all that weekend energy having dissipated, and far too much of the new week still left to go. Otherwise, really just another day. Though "just another day" is in itself such a useless evaluation. Seems like such a waste wouldn't you say?
And as I get forever lost in my own conflicting (polite for hypocritical) philosophies, I should just like to point out that the only real significance of this day is that it is being uploaded on historymatters.org.uk (or some such site) for publication in a mass collection of blogs. While I'd like to think I still have a shot at making my mark in history, might as well avail of this opportunity as it presents itself, and deal with others as they come. Just a 100-600 words though. So need to get all my babbling out somewhere before I begin. And now I'm overcome with this desire to see a brook running over glossy pebbles. Phaw!

Of books
Am working on finishing Nick Hornby's "A long way down". I can't really tell whether it's a fantastic achievement for a book to make me laugh, seeing as the vast majority of what I read is not striving to be on the funny side. But suppressing involuntary giggles in a packed London tube is an exhilarating feeling. Recommended for that alone if nothing else.

Of food
When you're not due to eat a bite till near half-six in the evening, it's possible to desire something mouth watering. Forgotten Marks&Spencer Mint Truffles have a habit of melting into a thick slushy thing. Slurping it is surprisingly thrilling, and the taste is quite a treat too. I can't imagine it looks much civilised though. (Fascinating! I wrote “very civilised” but the omnipotent MS Word believes it should be “much civilised”. It figures I would type it here though; it helps make the standard of my own spellings somewhat ambiguous. But I digress.) Melted chocolate has a way of refusing to go where you want it to.

Of holidays
One, thinking in such deep ways that are available only to the metaphorical "one", may believe it is the easiest thing in the world to ask for a holiday given that this one sits right opposite the granter of such wishes. Unfortunately, there's always that stigma of being denied. And those extra people clicking away around you always savour every last drop of human conversation. So I didn't ask, again. I should have asked two weeks ago but I didn't want it then. I wonder if it's too late to ask tomorrow...

When I evaluated this idea initially, I thought 600 words would be too few to capture an entire day. That’s probably still true. The only thing that’s changed is the realisation that spending two hours packed on trains, several mindlessly surfing the net, and another several doing work that should be confidential even if it isn’t doesn’t leave a lot to tell. Well, there were the tortillas when I got home, to make up for my Truffley friend, but that would just make any reader envious. And why would I want that?

Time shall continue to sweep us along its path, until it ceases to wind and either circles or ends. And the weather shall always confuse and surprise. Things like that. They’ll go on. Others will be lost. Ripples in the ocean, sand in the desert, heat in the arctic. Embracing change is a glorious thing, but there needs to be something so constant that we may measure it against.

Phaw! To ramble is to shatter such an illusion.


...

I think I could end there, and maybe start from of books. It says so much about me really. If nothing else, and both Blogspot and LJ collapse, I could always presumably nudge someone towards the British Library to dig this up. If that's still there of course. Such an assumption! Deary me...

Oh and of course, if I still remember I submitted this as Rayinzar Stormcloud. Because my name, my real name, that's for so many other things. Can't get it mired in the depths of history so early!

My hands are cold and numb. I'd blame the weather, but I won't. I will blame the air conditioning. Blow that in a desert why don't you. Rant *grin*

My Mondays enroach upon my Sundays

"My peers, lately, have found companionship through means of intoxication; it makes them sociable. I, however, cannot force myself to use drugs to cheat on my loneliness -- it is all that I have -- and when the drugs and alcohol dissipate, will be all that my peers have as well."
-Kafka

http://community.livejournal.com/wurds
Swimming in imagined wisdom remains as deliriously delightful as ever. How most quotes can be twisted to be relevant and reflected upon is not a thought that bears much consideration.

A pitiful place to be, between a rock and a hard place. As it is, such is the position of my poor desk. The slimmest skimmings of the net must soon enough be traded in for some pretence, often made all too real by the demanding trappings of the workplace.

There was this captivating thought process about the relation of absistence, temptation and cowardice. It is woeful is it not, that such wonders as are thought of can not be expressed at the moment of their birth. Now it is just another thing I hope to someday write of, that someday that never comes.

But enough of this depressing wizzle-wozzle. There is more to life, is there not. The dust that flies through our fingers is as representative of our presence as the ... as the tree that spends an eternity rooted still? Or some such...

In a wonderful recapture of nostalgia for myself and my generation, the weekend tv shows consisted of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II & Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Most excellent. Then there's been the usual. Sleeping, gaming, chilling... It all makes for fascinating reading really.

So like this weekend was sooo totally cool. My grandparents managed to lock their keys into the flat, which is the flat right next to the other flat. So anyway, since the doors auto-lock the only way back in was from the balcony. A simple swing and over... erm, around we go? Not in the middle of the day with everyone standing on their balconies! How could anything possibly look more suspicious anyway? Besides, there was a dinner to get to.
Fast forward to 11pm, and back we are. Nothing like a bit of rain to make a sealed off 6th floor balcony barrier hop more exciting! On the deck table goes the step ladder. Much too short really, so I clamber up onto that top holding thing of the step ladder before remembering I'm not really as athletic as my rpg character. Too late for hindsight now. One doesn't back down after bravely offering such services...
Glass by the way, is an awfully sharp thing to grab a hold of. Probably the only thing worse than clinging from glass is saddling it. For the sake of variety, I tried both. Of course, the moment when I gripped on and tried to swing my leg over, and suddenly found I was unable to reclaim any support was in equal parts terrifying and head-spinning-adrenaline-producing-uber-giddy-fun. Ok, perhaps more of the latter. My drop onto the other side, while perhaps not entirely graceful (my right side is a wee bit bruised, still) was at least managed without going over the side. Or smacking the chair so far below for support. Rah rah rah! I'm like totally up for bungee jumping now!
Right so then I went back in the flat, retrieved the keys, opened the door, etc etc etc. For an idea of the balcony (though the partition isn't available here :p) see>>>
http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7113/599/1600/DSC00862.jpg
http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7113/599/1600/DSC00865.jpg

And now here I am, 15 mins away from 6. When I shall hopefully skeedaddle. Fingers crossed and all that jazz. So much to do, so little time. Not work wise, just generally. But oh hey, I'm still alive, just saying hi in this most absorbing form of communication. Wave, grin and friends. And deeper thinking for some other day.

Transparent as a Prism

It's ten minutes to five on a day that has been excruciatingly tiring only through its lack of constructive provisions. Scouring news sites, blogs and forums, building fictional gaming machines I wouldn't dare pay for, and now observing the simplicity Blogspot is reduced to by that lesser browser known as Opera. Can't say I don't enjoy the click and drag navigation though.

Small things happen, little things yet grand. Wrestling with my Media Player at work did not reveal in the struggle what taking one small chance did. And now I find myself blissfully immersed in tunes from Broadway with their glamour and glitz, and magical ability to entrap the soul and transport it to a world of stages and spectacular performances.

I sit at my desk freezing while outside the window, past the bug quashed against it, the sun continues its brutal assault on a city ill-prepared for such actions.

There's this desparate need to throw myself into something that shall test me emotionally, and open me to something new now, as I feel so content with everything that to ask for more would be a greed most distasteful. So instead of wanting more (which is always pleasant), there is a desire for something new. Filled with such passion as would remain with me past those brief moments in the night where the sparks fly so far away from any surface inflammable.

In the pursuit of rebuilding feelings from the past, the long sought after Beauty and the Beast finally made an appearance in my life. Perhaps it was the time of the experience, so late after a day so full, but the magic was infinitely less. Pedestals built by memories are so often shattered by beings that shrink as their shadows loom larger. In a fortunate twist, the grip of the music is so old and ingrained that it remains past any temporary blips such as a change in taste.

Why can't they be like we were,
perfect in every way.
What's the matter with Kids today?
8-) Bye Bye Birdie - Medley

It's a sad thing, to write only as a last resort against boredom. As long as you're searching for alternatives when bored, reaching into yourself requires incredible will power. So much simpler to remain shut and waffle on and on and on about nothing.

So they opened a new place. A 10 scoop ice-cream cone for £30. At a per scoop rate it's not so bad. And to go there is an adventure of sorts.

The door filer sounds so much like a dentist's drill.
phaw