I'm Not There - a film about a certain Mr Zimmerman (that's Bob Dylan to me and you)

I'm Not There, directed by Todd Haynes, is a film about the life of Bob Dylan.

The film is named after a Dylan song only available on bootleg albums (The Genuine Basement Tapes and A Tree With Roots). It was recorded during The Basement Tapes sessions, but was cut from the final release.

Haynes is probably best known for his 2002 film Far From Heaven (which I will admit I have not seen) and 1998's Velvet Goldmine (a let down). He was also responsible for the 1987 film Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, in which Carpenter was portrayed by Barbie dolls - Haynes was sued by Richard Carpenter and the film was removed from distribution.

Continuing with this 'arty' focus to his film-making, I'm Not There follows Dylan through seven different stages of his life, played by six different actors: Marcus Carl Franklin, Ben Whishaw, Heath Ledger, Christian Bale, Richard Gere and Cate Blanchett.

Yes, you did read that right...Cate Blanchett!

This, for me, brings to mind Todd Solondz's film Palindromes, in which the protagonist, 13 year old Aviva, was played by eight different actors of varying age, race and gender. If you haven't seen that, it's really interesting and well worth a look.

I'm Not There has already won the Grand Jury Prize at the Venice Film Festival. I can't wait to see it! Let's just hope, after such wonderful biopics as Ray and Walk The Line, that this one is worthy of the great man. The cinematography certainly looks beautiful from the trailers I have seen (below).

Also starring: Charlotte Gainsbourg, Julianne Moore and Michelle Williams.

If you want to check it out further, try Internet Movie Database (a film geek's paradise!) as a starting point.

"Really love your peaches, want to shake your tree": Songs about food (well, with food in the title!)

"Cream tangerine and Montelimar

A ginger sling with a pineapple heart

A coffee dessert - yes you know it's good news

But you'll have to have them all pulled out

After the Savoy truffle"

The Beatles - Savoy Truffle

Before we start...a handy piece of advice from The Clash...Don't Get Lost In The Supermarket.

This is by no means an exhaustive list...comment away with your own additions! For example, I know that there are oodles (and noodles?) of blues songs not listed, but that's not really my 'specialist subject' and I've tried to stick to songs I know (most of which are in my personal music library).

So let's start with...

APPETISERS / NIBBLES

• Electric Soup – Corduroy
• Post Houmous – Morcheeba (it has literally only just occurred to me, whilst typing this up, that their name is a dope-smoking reference!)
• Pumpkin Seeds – Devendra Banhart
• The Soup – Regina Spektor
• Tick Eats The Olives – Devendra Banhart

FAST FOOD?

• Hot Burrito #1 – Belly (Hot Burrito #1 and #2 – Flying Burrito Brothers)
• Hot Dog! That Made Him Mad – Wanda Jackson
• Hot Tamale – Donna The Buffalo

MEAT AND POULTRY

• Cold Turkey – The Beatles
• Goodbye Pork Pie Hat – Charles Mingus
• Meat Hook – Tracy Bonham
  And who could forget...
• Spam – Monty Python (if Spam can ever be called a meat!)

FISH AND SEAFOOD

• Catfish Blues – Robert Petway
• Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie – Joanna Newsom
• Pulling Mussels (From A Shell) – Squeeze
• Rock Lobster – The B52s
• Turnip Fish – Sultans Of Ping FC (which could also be in 'vegetables' I suppose...an executive decision!)

MAIN DISHES / ENTREES (Which, for some reason, seem to be primarily about pie!)

• American Pie – Don McLean
• Jambalaya (On The Bayou) – Hank Williams (or The Carpenters)
• Memphis Soul Stew – King Curtis
• Ocean Pie – Shed Seven
• Petootie Pie – Ella Fitzgerald
• Rainbow Stew – Merle Haggard

LET'S CARB IT UP A NOTCH!

• A Widow's Toast – Neko Case
• Bread And Butter – The Newbeats
• Bread And Roses – Mr Hudson And The Library
• Shortnin' Bread – Paul Robeson
• There's A Guy Works Down The Chip Shop Swears He's Elvis – Kirsty MacColl
• Toast – Tori Amos

WANT ANY CONDIMENTS WITH THAT?

• Emperor Tomato Ketchup – Stereolab
• Lady Marmalade – LaBelle
• Marmalade – The Geraldine Fibbers
• Reading Time With Pickle – Regina Spektor

SEASONING?

• Cinnamon Girl – Neil Young
• Ginger Park – 50 Foot Wave
• Let No Man Steal Your Thyme – Pentangle
• Open Sesame – Kool & The Gang
• Rosemary – Nina Nastasia
• Rosemary – Suzanne Vega
• Sally Cinnamon – The Stone Roses

VEGETABLES

• Battle Of The Beanfield – The Levellers
• Glass Onion – The Beatles
• Green Onions – Booker T & The MGs
• Know Your Onion! – The Shins
• Navy Bean – Tracy Bonham
• Polk Salad Annie – Tony Joe White
• Pumpkin – Tricky
• Sliced Tomatoes – Just Brothers (ok, so tomatoes are technically a fruit...pumpkins are too I guess?)
• Sprout And The Bean – Joanna Newsom
• Sweet Potato – Sia
• The Onion Song – Marvin Gaye
• Vege-tables – Brian Wilson
• Vegetable – Radiohead

HOW ABOUT SOME FRUIT?

• Agent Orange – Tori Amos
• Black Cherry – Goldfrapp
• Black Horse And The Cherry Tree – KT Tunstall
• Blackberry Way – The Move
• Blueberry Hill – Fats Domino (an ex of mine was adamant that the lyrics to this are “I found my freedom...”; that makes no sense at all, and therefore she was quite silly!)
• Cantaloupe Island – Herbie Hancock
• Coconut Grove – The Lovin' Spoonful (I have a cover by Sandie Shaw)
• Golden Apples Of The Sun – Devendra Banhart (with Vashti Bunyan)
• Gooseberry Fool – Kinky Machine
• I Heard It Through The Grapevine – Marvin Gaye (slightly tenuous, but such a great song it demanded to be included!)
• Lemon Incest – Serge and Charlotte Gainsbourg
• Love Tastes Like Strawberries – Miriam Makeba
• Orange Moon – Erykah Badu
• Peach, Pear, Plum – Joanna Newsom
• Peaches – Presidents Of The United States Of America
• Raspberry Beret – Prince
• Raspberry Swirl – Tori Amos
• Shiny Apple – The Waifs
• Strange Fruit – Billie Holiday (and many others)
• Strawberry Fields Forever – The Beatles
• Strawberry Julius – Bikini Kill
• Strawberry Letter #23 – The Brothers Johnson
• Strawberry Street – Jeff Buckley
• Tangerine – Moist

FRUIT TOO HEALTHY FOR YOU? HAVE SOME SWEETIES (Candy if you are American) OR A BIKKY OR TWO

• Biscuit – Portishead
• Broken Biscuit – Sia
• Butterscotch – CocoRosie
• Candy Everyone Wants – 10,000 Maniacs
• Candy Kisses – Kitty Wells
• Caramel – Suzanne Vega
• Dolly Mixture Kid – Kinky Machine
• Lollipop – The Chordettes (or Ronald and Ruby)
• My Boy Lollipop – Millie Small
• No-Biscuit Blues – Kate and Anna McGarrigle
• So Like Candy – Elvis Costello
• Sweets For My Sweet – The Drifters
• Whitechocolatespaceegg – Liz Phair

WANT TO GO THE WHOLE HOG AND OPT FOR DESSERT?

• Banana Pancakes – Jack Johnson
• Doughnut Song – Tori Amos
• Ice Cream – New Young Pony Club
• Just Desserts – Chumbawamba
• Nobody In Town Can Bake A Sweet Jelly Roll Like Mine – Bessie Smith
• She Don't Use Jelly – The Flaming Lips (I guess this would be in the condiments section for US folk)
• The Jello Fund – The Lemonheads

SUGAR (There are so many it needs its own category...as does 'honey', which comes next)

• Brown Sugar – The Rolling Stones
• I Need A Little Sugar In My Bowl – Bessie Smith (what wanton smut for an old time gal!)
• Pour Some Sugar On Me – Millie Jackson
• Spin Spin Sugar – Sneaker Pimps
• Sugar – The Archies (dreadful, dreadful song)
• Sugar – Heather Nova
• Sugar And Spice – The Searchers
• Sugar Blues – Ella Fitzgerald
• Sugar Daddy – The Jackson 5
• Sugar Dumpling – Desmond Dekker and The Aces (or Sam Cooke)
• Sugar Is Sweeter – CJ Bolland
• Sugar Pie – Ella Fitzgerald
• Sugar Pie – Har Mar Superstar

HONEY (And this is just a selection!)

• Deep Honey – Goldfrapp
• Honey Bop – Wanda Jackson
• Honey Molasses – Jill Scott
• Honey Now – Gillian Welch
• Honey Or Tar – CocoRosie (well I know which I'd choose!)
• Honey Pie – The Beatles
• Milk And Honey – Nick Drake
• Pony 4 Honey – The Need
• Slow Like Honey – Fiona Apple
• Sticky Honey – Juliette and The Licks
• Tupelo Honey – Van Morrison
• Wild Honey Pie – The Beatles

MISCELLANEOUS

• 32 Flavors – Ani DiFranco
• Cornflake Girl – Tori Amos
• Hominy Grits – Josephine Foster
• The Sun Maid – Soul Asylum (ok, so there's no mention of food, but this always makes me think of raisins! Purely unintentional I'm sure)

A FEW SUGGESTIONS OF THINGS TO WASH IT ALL DOWN WITH (Drinks could be a whole separate blog!)

• Champagne Supernova – Oasis (for the decadent)
• Margaritaville – Jimmy Buffet
• Milkshake – Kelis
• One Mint Julep – The Clovers (or Ray Charles)
• Pennyroyal Tea – Nirvana
  ...or if it really has all been too much
• Black Coffee In Bed – Squeeze

IF YOU'VE SERIOUSLY OVERDONE IT

• Intergalactic Laxative – Donovan

AND TO FINISH IT ALL OFF

• Give The Anarchist A Cigarette – Chumbawamba

A SELECTION ABOUT EATING / DINING / COOKING...WITH TIPS ON WHERE TO EAT!

• Breakfast In Bed – Dusty Springfield
• Chowdown – Corduroy
• Double Cookin' – Checkerboard Squares
• Eat For Two – 10,000 Maniacs
• Eat It – Weird Al Yankovic (he has squillions of others about food too)
• Eat To The Beat – Blondie
• Feed The Light – Joan As Police Woman
• Feed The Tree – Belly
• I Eat Dinner – Kate and Anna McGarrigle
• Nighthawks At The Diner – Tom Waits
• Power Lunch – Har Mar Superstar (featuring Beth Ditto)
• Smokey Joe's Cafe – The Coasters (or The Robins)
• The First Taste – Fiona Apple
• Tom's Diner – Suzanne Vega

EVEN THE ARTISTS AND BANDS THEMSELVES ARE GETTING IN ON THE ACT:

Fiona Apple, Bananarama, Blind Melon, Bread, Cake, Cherry Ghost, The Cranberries, Cream, Flying Burrito Brothers, Hot Chocolate, The Jam, Jelly Roll Morton, Korn, Lamb, The Lemonheads, Meatloaf, Mint Royale, Peaches, Peechees, Prefab Sprout, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Salt-N-Pepa, The Smashing Pumpkins, Sugar, The Sugarcubes, Tangerine Dream, T-Bone Walker, Wild Cherry...you get the picture!

And we've got Sam Cooke and Sam Baker to do all the work for us!

I realise that most of these songs actually have nothing to do with food...even if they do pertain to ;o) But it's certainly food for thought!

Just one more wafer thin mint?

FINAL NOTE:

One Vision by Queen, when it was being written, was called Fried Chicken, and Yesterday by The Beatles was hummed by Sir Paul of McCartney as Scrambled Eggs whilst he was composing it!

Amoeba Music: Now that's what I call the best record store in the world...ever!

Amoeba Music is the music lover's wet dream...as far as music stores go, this is (in my opinion) the daddy of them all!

(If you can think of a rival, please leave a comment and let me know...I'd be keen to check it out if I'm ever in the vicinity).

The first store was opened on Telegraph Avenue, Berkeley, California in 1990 (this one is particularly good for vinyl), with two further stores joining in on the fun since then: San Francisco (since 1997) and Hollywood (Sunset Boulevard, since 2001 – which claims to be the world's largest independent music store at 31,000 square feet – and which is the only one I haven't been to). This blog will mostly be about the San Francisco outlet, which is at the top of Haight Street, just before Golden Gate Park.

The store: A massive 24,000 square feet (2,200 square metres for all you metric kids) of converted bowling alley...seriously, it's like an aircraft hangar or something it's so humongous...and it is stocked to the brim with goodies! It really does feel like a treasure hunt. This place seriously blows my mind!

The staff...are everything I want to be; they are the ultimate music geeks. They really know their stuff, their knowledge immense and seemingly endless. And I know that, like me, these are people that simply wet themselves over making the perfect mix-tape (or cd in these modern times!), and introducing friends to music they love and are super-excited about. I found the staff to be really helpful; I was specifically looking for a copy of Iron Horse Fade To Bluegrass, a great album of Metallica songs covered in a bluegrass style, which I had heard in a local diner, and simply had to have! So they are definitely capable of helping you to find that obscure or limited-release title (and I'm sure they come much more obscure than that too!). They have a computer to look it up on, as with anywhere nowadays, but they also have a glint in their eyes, a genuine enthusiasm, and a remarkable, encyclopaedic ability to converse about any of it...and make suggestions if you ask for them too. While I was there I also picked up a great in-store magazine/zine/bible chock full of the (informed and insightful...and passionate) recommendations of people working in all three outlets.

And, most importantly, the stock: This is like Willy Wonka's chocolate factory for the music afficionado...except without such a creepy man running the show (did Gene Wilder, as Willy Wonka, give anyone else the willies?). It really is endless...there is (almost) every release you could ever want...and so much stuff that you didn't even know you wanted! They stock vinyl, cds, cassettes, new and used (as well as dvds, although I didn't allow myself to peruse this bit of the shop!) - a very eclectic range, including hard to find bounty. They even have listening posts where you can scan the bar code of a cd you fancy having a listen to, which then shows up on a screen where you can select the track etc. Or you can just search their extensive database for inspiration...although that might take some of the fun out of the experience of rummaging, trying to find a bargain or hidden gem. There are swathes of clearance racks, offering used cds from about $1.99 (with some sort of 'buy lots and we'll give you a discount' schtick on top of that, as if necessary...something like 'get every fourth one free' if I recall correctly). And it's not all just dross, as with many bargain bins...I got Geraldine Fibbers, Natalie Merchant and Elvis Costello albums (as well as quite a few others!) from the cheapo-cheapo section...why is it that this always feels like such an accomplishment...like you've pulled a swift one on them?

The atmosphere is of a community record store, despite the size...you are surrounded by tonnes of other music nerds with sweaty palms, nimble fingers (for rifling through the racks) and wide eyes. Have you read (or seen) High Fidelity? These (me included) are those people!

And if this wasn't enough, they also host live in-stores shows...I shall list some of those that personally would interest me, but if you click on the link to their website you can have a squizz for your good selves.

Past performances have included: Datarock, Kristin Hersh, Aimee Mann, Solomon Burke, Smoosh, The Dears, Saul Williams, Rilo Kiley, Gossip, Devendra Banhart, CocoRosie, Broken Social Scene, Ladytron and The White Stripes.

Oh, did I mention that this (small selection from the whopping big list as a whole) only covers the San Francisco joint?

(Hollywood have had, amongst others: Patti Smith, Erin McKeown, Tegan and Sara, Jolie Holland, Neko Case, Ben Harper, Wanda Jackson (!! Belated happy birthday by the way Ms Jackson...she turned 70 on October 20th), Nickel Creek, Elvis Costello, Old Crow Medicine Show, PJ Harvey, Camera Obscura, Amp Fiddler, Po Girl, Throwing Muses, Lucinda Williams and The Melvins.)

And all for free folks!

Apparently they even have their own record label now...although from the looks of things this is still quite young.

Ok, so just to balance this review out a bit...the negatives. It is hugely overwhelming as there is just so much stock! Seriously, you could get lost in this place for days and still not touch the sides. It's like your eyes are too big for your stomach...make that your wallet and the amount of time it is humanly possible to spend in a record store in one go. The temptation is so great you are also likely to come out (blinking at the sunlight) a whole lot poorer, with more arm loads than you can carry, and with that gnawing anxiety that you just missed THE cd/lp you simply can't live without (even though you've managed ok so far, thank you very much). But these are hardly real criticisms.

You are, however, likely to be offered any number of illegal substances in the street outside (this is Haight-Ashbury, after all), so if that offends your sensibilities...

If it eases your conscience at all, Amoeba (a prime example of the kind of word I hate, never mind how much I love the stores...the whole 'oe' vowel pronunciation bit...yuck!) donates some of its profits to Rainforest Action Network. It also, in the Hollywood store, has a 'Big Green Box' in which to deposit your unused/broken/faulty electrical items and batteries, for them to be recycled rather than sent to landfill. If you think about it, even a lot of the music is recycled...bought used (for cash, or more in in-store credit).

Oh, and finally, there's a great pizza shop, with daily 'slice' specials (I opted for the veggie options that they were proffering that day...I think it was a slice each of 'You Say Potato' and 'Elementary My Dear Watsonville' that I had, going by the menu) called Escape From New York, just a few doors away. Pop in, stock up on calories to see you through the next several hours of browsing/hunting.

Whilst I'm on a food (and San Francisco) tip I shall mention a taqueria that I dream about...El Farolito (nowhere near Amoeba at 24th and Mission). It is grotty, grubby, in a bad(ish) part of town, but boy is it yummy! And very very cheap indeed. Their veggie burritos are to die for, and are enough to keep you flup (full up) all day! You should also check out the pico de gallo (or whatever the green salsa they make is called there...you can serve yourself pots of it for free...great if you buy a basket of tortilla chips for something ludicrous like 50 cents). I crave burritos in the UK...there aren't any Mexican take-aways round here, which I think is sacrilege. Any Mexican peeps out there in Gateshead or Newcastle reading this? ;o)

As for Amoeba Music...don't just take my word for it...here is what some other people have to say: Amoeba San Francisco.

“In her kiss I taste the revolution!”: The impact of Riot Grrrl on Gossip and music today

In light of the recent success of female-fronted bands such as Gossip, it seemed timely to look back at the Riot Grrrl movement and the inspiration it provided to a younger school of musicians.

Beth Ditto and her band, Gossip, have been splashed across the UK press in a big way this past year. Fear not, this is not just another article about squirrels! Gossip's brand of energetic punk-pop, their outspoken frontwoman and their political affiliations have caught the attention of the mainstream media and, it seems, the public. A great deal of the attention has been on Ditto herself and the fact that she is fat (and proud of it), gay (and proud of it!) and feminist (ditto – ha!). I can't seem to turn on my tv lately without seeing her face on even the most inane shows.

They started out some seven years ago. Such a big voice in such a small town (Judsonia, Arkansas) was never going to work. Ditto and Gossip guitarist Nathan Howdeshell (who goes by the moniker Brace Payne) moved from backwoods Arkansas to Olympia, Washington where, inspired by the Do-It-Yourself aesthetic of the thriving local music scene, they decided to start a band.

Gossip's first two full-length albums, 2001's That's Not What I Heard and 2003's Movement, released on the Kill Rock Stars label, are rough, unpolished affairs of short, snappy, punky songs which do not shy away from overtly lesbian lyrics and the band's political agenda. These sentiments are still there with their most recent album Standing In The Way Of Control, the title track of which is a diatribe against the Bush government's decision not to sanction gay marriage in the US. The difference is that now people are dancing to it in clubs and are blissfully unaware of its political sentiments; a nice coat of sparkly lipstick has been added to make it all a bit more presentable.

But the basics of Gossip's ethos owe a lot to Riot Grrrl. The DIY philosophy is still very much present, with Ditto doing newspaper interviews about how to make and amend your own clothing and the statement on the band's MySpace page:

“START YR OWN BAND

- PLAY BROKEN GUITARS. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT TUNING, RHYTHM AND DETONATION”.

Ditto has not been shy about her political leanings and, whilst courting the press in a way that riot grrrls at the time never did (she even has her own fortnightly Guardian column – What Would Beth Ditto Do?), she brazenly speaks her mind about issues important to her, and does not sugar her words. The music itself also shows many similarities, and it is no coincidence that their early albums were released on Kill Rock Stars. Of course one can ascribe many influences in listening to Gossip, from the bluesy wail of Janis Joplin to the soulful belting of Aretha Franklin, but the punk allegiances are very much there for all to see.

As Ms Ditto herself puts it “I don't want the world, I only want what I deserve” - a message which would have fitted perfectly with the beliefs of those early riot grrrls.

“Revolution girl style now!”

So what is Riot Grrrl? Well, it all started in 1991, around the time of the International Pop Underground Convention, in the Pacific Northwest of America, specifically Olympia, Washington and Washington DC. Disillusioned by the male-dominated, often misogynist, world of punk music, a group of women decided to take matters into their own hands.

A deeply political movement, this scene was as much about activism and 'the message' as the music that was produced. Equally important was the creation, and distribution, of zines (key zines including Jigsaw and Girl Germs), and the co-ordination of gatherings and festivals such as Pussystock, where seminars and workshops were held on such topics as sexual abuse and self-defence. Tackling head-on issues including sexuality, gender, sexism and homophobia (overlapping here with the Queercore movement), as well as rape, domestic and sexual abuse, body image, abortion and a woman's right to choose, the aim was to build communities of women, encourage communication and shared experience and, ultimately, to empower.

The popular press naturally misinterpreted the intentions of these “angry young women”, misquoted them, and wrote spiels about how they were 'man-haters' who neglected to take care of their appearance, completely missing the point about standing up for equal rights, for what you believe in, and for not being ashamed of what happens to be between your legs. So misrepresented were they that, by 1992, key members called for a “media blackout”, refusing to speak to the popular press. This had the unfortunate effect of limiting available information even further, therefore continuing to distort what was fed to the public about the intended purpose of the movement.

The roots of Riot Grrrl music were firmly in punk, with key influences including Patti Smith (to my mind the original riot grrrl), The Slits, The Raincoats, Joan Jett, Crass, The Plasmatics, The Au Pairs, Frightwig, Poison Girls, Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex, and Debora Iyall of Romeo Void – to name only a few. And it wasn't only influences from the field of music that were important, but feminist writings and strong female voices in general - from performance art (e.g. Carolee Schnemann), journalism (e.g. Ellen Willis) and the world of zines (e.g. Vaginal Davis).

The key proponents early in the Riot Grrrl revolution included Kathleen Hanna and Tobi Vail of Bikini Kill and Allison Wolfe and Molly Neuman of Bratmobile. The movement was christened after a zine they had produced together (the 'grrrl' of Riot Grrrl zine coming from from a term often used in Wolfe's earlier Girl Germs zine - “angry grrrls” - the spelling symbolising a growl). Through the production of various zines and via their music, these two seminal bands incited others to join in and themselves take action – this was not about playing the most proficient or technically capable guitar; it was much more grassroots than that, setting up a garage band and playing what you could (with punky conviction, urgency and true, visceral grit).

So, how about a guide to the 'need to know' of Riot Grrrl...the two key bands mentioned above?

“BECAUSE I believe with my wholeheartmindsoulbody that girls constitute a revolutionary soul force that can, and will, change the world for real.”

This is one of the principles of the Riot Girl Manifesto, as penned by Kathleen Hanna of Bikini Kill, who became something of a 'poster girl' for the movement as a whole. They also gave us the title of this article in their song Rebel Girl.

After working together on the zine Bikini Kill, Kathleen Hanna (of Suture), Tobi Vail and Kathi Wilcox formed a band of the same name, where they were joined by Billy Karen. Known for controversial songs such as I Like Fucking and Suck My Left One (perhaps one of the most iconic songs of the movement, its lyrics about incest), they were known for eschewing major record labels and the mainstream press, and for inviting females to the front of the crowd at their shows, where they would often hand out lyric sheets. The band themselves, and many fans, would sometimes daub themselves, in lipstick or black marker, with words such as 'slut' or 'rape', in an attempt to reclaim words used against women and to bring issues out in the open. This led to great misrepresentation in the press. Vail, Karen and Wilcox (with Molly Neuman of Bratmobile) are now The Frumpies, whereas Hanna went on to form Le Tigre.

Factoid: Kathleen Hanna is responsible for coining the title of Nirvana's breakthrough song Smells Like Teen Spirit when she spray-painted 'Kurt smells like Teen Spirit' on his wall. She was, at the time, in a relationship with Dave Grohl, Vail in a relationship with Kurt Cobain. 'Teen Spirit' was the name of the deodorant which Tobi Vail wore.

“We're not anti-boy, we're pro-girl.” (Molly Neuman)

After collaborating on a zine called Girl Germs (later to become one of their song titles), Allison Wolfe and Molly Neuman formed a band in response to the male-orientated grunge music scene. They initially played as a duo, before adding Erin Smith (responsible for popular zine Teenage Gang Debs), introduced to them by Calvin Johnson of Beat Happening and K Records, in July 1991. (With whom, incidentally, Beth Ditto has recorded a song - Lightning Rod For Jesus).

Their aim was to create feminist punk rock – which they did in a sassy, poppy, witty fashion. Their first album Pottymouth is a key one in the Riot Grrrl canon, and contains a great cover of The Runaways' (a Joan Jett incarnation before The Blackhearts) Cherry Bomb.

They split in 1994, in part due to the media scrutiny of Riot Grrrl, reforming in 1999 and touring with Sleater-Kinney after each working with various other outfits. Allison Wolfe was also involved in organising the first Ladyfest in 2001.

Other notables include:

Heavens To Betsy (with Corin Tucker, later of Sleater-Kinney), 7 Year Bitch, Excuse 17 (featuring Carrie Brownstein, again later of Sleater-Kinney), Mecca Normal and the UK's Huggy Bear and Voodoo Queens.

There are arguments for and against including many others in this list, and riot grrrls themselves resisted definition of the movement as it meant different things to the various people involved.

True Riot Grrrls stuck fiercely to independent records labels such as Slim Moon's Kill Rock Stars (a great place to start sifting through the back catalogue - you can even download and sample some free mp3s here), Calvin Johnson's K Records and, later, Donna Dresch's Chainsaw Records, with a few signing to Sub-Pop. Kill Rock Stars continues to release music in which the influences of the early 1990s are unequivocal, including Erase Errata, The Frumpies, Comet Gain and, of course, Gossip, as well as the now defunct Sleater-Kinney and The Need.

Without Riot Grrrl, it would be very difficult to imagine Gossip sounding as they do today. They continue the work of promoting positive self-image (picking up the baton of Bikini Kill zine and its 1991 article on fat oppression), gender equality and the necessity of standing by your convictions. They are also keen to acknowledge their heroes, as with the original scene. This is Riot Grrrl updated for the noughties...perhaps a more image-conscious, media-friendly little riot sister.

The Riot Grrrl movement, however small in size and however short-lived, has had a massive impact for women in the music industry – strong women with voices that demand to be heard – and for equality in general. Sadly, it may also be to blame for watered-down offerings such as the Spice Girls and their trite “girl power”!

My album of the year

The inscription inside the gate fold CD case says it all - "How beautiful are these days."

This album is, from top to bottom, simply beautiful.

And I make no mistake in using the word 'simply'. No flourishes, no trills, no fancy packaging, no pretension, no superfluous production or excess. This is just great music...as simple as that.

There are no honeyed vocals here but, in this case, that is part of the appeal. Baker's voice is something akin to Tom Waits-lite (I do not mean this in any derogatory sense...quite the opposite. His voice has the depth and expressiveness of Tom Waits but, certainly for me, is a great deal more listenable!). He has also been likened to Townes Van Zandt and John Prine...accolades if ever there were any! This is a voice ravaged by the lessons life has taught; someone who has come through the other side to share with us the beauty the world has to offer.

In grizzled tones, Baker sings over a wonderfully sparse backing, at times talking more than singing. An understated offering...but one that has been calculated to perfection.

Upon first listen, there might appear to be a sense of melancholy to the whole affair. But listen more deeply. These are the tales of someone who is glad to be alive; his appreciation of, his joy in, all the little things that so many of us take for granted. It is the rasp of survival...a man that has dusted himself down and learnt to live for every new day. Yet it is not our usual hackneyed story of drug addiction and exorbitance. Baker, in 1986, lived through a terrorist bombing on a train in Peru, only just escaping with his life, deafened in one ear, partially deafened in the other, and having to endure some 17 reconstructive surgeries (never mind 'smaller' accomplishments such as having to learn to play guitar left-handed!).

"a bomb concealed in a suitcase ripped through the roof of a packed train that was carrying tourists to the ancient Inca city of Machu Picchu. Seven passengers were killed, including one American and three West Germans. As many as 40 other people were injured." (Time.com) or New York Times.

This experience is written all over Baker's work - in an uplifting, not maudlin, way. The storytelling here is consummate, yet the lyrical content economical; there seem to be no unnecessary words, and each song tells its story both succinctly and charmingly. We hear of a woman gambling in Reno, a brothel customer, the son of an oil-rich man, a psychic and, in 'Boxes', a woman searching memories of old Valentine's cards and a letter telling her that her husband will not be returning from war. It is the small details, the things so frequently overlooked, that make these stories so real, the "pigs feet jar" (Juarez), the "one red rose, it glistens in the sun" (Sweetly Undone), "cold Mexican beer" (Days).

The very simplicity is touching; sentiments that could, if offered in a more polished timbre, seem cloying, here are the epitome of rapture:

"Before the sun
Before the heat

Before we untangle from our sheets

Before this summer day unfurls

Pretty world" (Pretty World)

and

"You've got a book on Africa

I've got Twain

Lay down and rest

Lay down in the sun

Lay down with your top

Sweetly undone". (Sweetly Undone)

For me, the beauty of this album only grows the more I listen to it. It is a great album, not just a great collection of songs. The landscapes can be stark, but are never barren...and they speak of both solitude and love.

The album also features Walt Wilkins (making his name on the Texas red dirt scene with The Mystiqueros) and the sweet vocal additions (contrasting with Baker's own sublimely on 'Odessa') of Chris Baker-Davies.

It's a keeper!

High points: Sweetly Undone (my personal favourite), Pretty World, Broken Fingers, Odessa, Boxes.

You can listen to snippets (and buy the album) here.

Smoking, it seems, is good for you...and fun to boot!

Ah, the good old days! ;o)

It all used to be so innocent (the italics are there for a reason!)...before smoking-related litigation I presume.

...here we have cigarettes being advertised by Mr Claus himself ('Have a cancerous Christmas'?)...

And if that doesn't appeal enough to the younger smoker...

...advertising bragging that this brand is a hit with the young'uns (because it's already killed off all of the older ones?).

Start 'em teeny-tiny...

Well, if the medical professionals recommend it...?

Oh, and the sporting ones...

Smoking is good for you for SO many reasons! Stressed?

Sod the bananas!

But let this be a warning to you:

About getting fat if you don't smoke!

Another bonus...

...it gives you that healthy glow:





Hmmm...what else gives you a healthy glow?


Yay for the post-coital puff!

Don't they look satisfied?




He finished first...obviously!




And...


Yes, he joined in too!

Pleasure ahoy indeed!

And that's all I have to say on that topic!

And remember...









...a worthy bit of advice for you boys!

It seems that, more recently, the messages have been far more subtle:

http://observer.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,6903,1577892,00.html

They will stop at nothing to get you hooked! (This is clearly not the place to entertain the recent spate of anti-smoking advertising!).



I shall, therefore, leave you with this beauty from The Philippines:

Well, if she sanctions it...!

I may be singing out of key, but it sure feels good to me...

I've been on quite a journey since we last met.

No, not some spiritual journey...I haven't found myself or the answer to world peace. Sadly.

Nope, I have pootled (or bimbled, if you like...I have just introduced my friend Katy to this word) up and down the country like a loon, visiting various peeps and spending an awful lot of money (that I don't have) on petrol.

Ok, so it's been more than a week now since I got back, but I've admitted previously that I am lazy, so no further apologies.

Friday I headed down to my parents' house, in order that I was in that neck of the woods for my pals' wedding on the Saturday. The journey down took eons. It took me two and a half hours to travel about 26 miles...it being the Friday of a bank holiday weekend, the A1(M) was closed in both directions due to accidents. Of course I didn't realise this until it was too late.

Still, I have a super-cool new gadget for my car. It's a cassette tape that you plug into your iPod so that it plays through the car stereo. I already have an iTrip; however I have come to realise that this is rubbish for long journeys as you go in and out of radio reception areas and various local stations; it is also rubbish for short journeys as it is too much of a clart on. Only really useful when you're going round a friend's house and they have a crap taste in music and an alarm clock radio then!

Anyway, moving on...so, I was armed with this new-fangled cassette tape. Tee hee. Oxymoron? Therefore, although the traffic was a pain in the arse (it was one of those traffic jams where people were actually getting out of their cars), I was really quite enjoying singing along. I had on a playlist I made a couple of years ago (sufficiently long ago for me to have forgotten what was on it) and was having a good old wail and keeping chipper. Have a look at what I was listening to if you like:

http://www.thoughts.com/divinyl/blog/playlist-8665/

I haven't even edited it for the sake of my pride (and I'm not sure, when it's generally in alphabetical order by song, why some songs seem to be in the wrong place!)...there were some corkers in there (and also some terribly saddo moments, for some reason a plenitude of Tori Amos, and stuff that I was sticking in there because it was newish to me and I was trying it out/familiarising myself...like Anthony and the Johnsons etc. Lots of omissions, as I haven't really got around to putting my whole music collection on my iPod, especially newer (to me) stuff. But it holds about 7,500 tracks and there's already 6,151 on there...I just checked; what a loser...and I haven't updated at all in over a year. Cripes...I really am going to have to be very brutal in my editing)...very eclectic and something for everyone...I'm sure the rest of the traffic jam appreciated it! I even got two separate cheers from the other side of the road for my singing efforts!

I decided that Willie Nelson's version of 'Across the Borderline' is now on my list of funeral songs...no, I wasn't getting that desperate being cooped up in my car, but every time I hear it, I always think what a beautiful, sad song it is. My dad reckons I'm morbid for deciding what songs I want playing at my funeral, but I don't see why. I don't have to think about that all important 'first dance' song do I?? FYI, I want a trio of songs, the first being 'Across the Borderline', the third being Stevie Wonder's 'A Place in the Sun'...I'm not yet sure what the middle one will be...I did think about 'Across the Universe', but maybe that's just because they were next to each other in my playlist and I was getting a little too much into the theme! My mate Ben's funeral song is to be the dancey reworking of Womack and Womack's 'Teardrops'...Love Station or some such like. Well, it's upbeat eh? But I want deep and meaningful shit, man! I thought, when I first heard that song as a kid (the original one), that the lyrics were “eardrops in my eyes”...painful!

It just happened to be the hottest day in recorded British history. Ok, so I exaggerate, but suffice to say that I have arms that don't match...I look like a one woman Benetton ad!

I eventually got to the 'rents' house and was immediately handed a beer as soon as I got in...now that's what I'm talking about! It was a Landlord as well...good call Dad. We had a good old bond over music and I finally traipsed off to bed.

The next morning I met my pals at Alton Station and we travelled in convoy (can two cars be called a convoy?) down to Southampton, to a Travel Inn where we would get ready for the aforementioned wedding. Rather disgustingly, my single room cost exactly the same as the doubles my friends were in, i.e. I paid twice as much just for not being shacked up (and, as Johnny Nash put it, and the sensible amongst us know, “Love ain't nothin' but a monkey on your back”. Ok, so I'm not really sure what this means, but I like it nevertheless). I also lost the money I had paid for the hen 'do', which I couldn't afford to go to. I shall, however, curtail my rant on that one, as I have much more to say.

And so, to the wedding itself...

It was lovely...as much as I am hating the whole marriage shebang. I have known both bride and groom since I was 16 (yup, they have been together that long!), and they were married in a country pub garden on a beautifully sunny day (thank goodness I got to experience one without being caged up in a small tin box, i.e. my car!), by a friend of theirs, whom I also know (they'd done the whole registry office thing a few days earlier, so Dave was on full vicar duties at this one!). The groom arrived in a Ferrari...we all just thought it was some twat showing off and revving past until we realised it was him. The bride looked fab...her hair was rock solid and completely immovable with lashings of hairspray. Following the vows, as they walked back down the 'aisle' (there wasn't really one, as it was a pub garden, like I said), there was a piece of music played. You could see a ripple of recognition throughout the crowd...yes, indeed it was the Baywatch theme tune. Inspired!

Later on, after the first dance, they also had an Elvis impersonator...it was all just so very them. And I managed to avoid getting so drunk as to fall over this year...yay me! It wasn't my fault at the last one...honest guv'nor. There were waiters who simply would not let you finish your bottle of wine, never mind your glass...they insisted on refilling constantly...seriously, my friends and I ended up trying to hide from them! This is not like us!

And so, that's now two of the group of four of us married off. The third (erm, not me) is engaged. And then there's me as token (uber-single) lezzie! This was the first time I had met my pal's fiance. And jolly nice he was. He had a touch of the Louis Theroux about him (a good thing) and could converse endlessly about music...tick.

The next day it was a drive up to Manchester to catch the end of Pride...and see Gossip again. We got there just in time for them starting and weaved our way through the crowds. There was a woman that was amazed that I knew the words...seriously, she was pointing me out to her friends and wanting me to be a performing baboon! We bumped into her later on, and she was still going on about it! Beth was, again, awesome. Although the sound system was pretty rubbish, it beat the one at the Lowry the last time I saw them, and the atmosphere was oh so much better. The crowd was HUGE. Ms Ditto was in one of her customary sausage skin outfits (which, unusually, remained on throughout)...I later canvassed opinion and I was, indeed, the only person who thought that there was something quite erotic about her belly all encased yet on show like that. Hmmm...I shall not continue on this topic methinks...I already sound like some right weirdo!

Then it was to Velvet (the furthest away bar, in order to try and avoid the crowds post-gig...so we could actually get a drink). Somehow I managed to find a vein in the bar queue and was served almost straight away...superb! It was a great evening. Not really for any explicable reason...it was just lots of hanging round outside, drinking, chatting and people-watching. Totally laid-back and very much my sort of evening. I also met a redeeming lesbian...the one that got away! Her name was Sally, and she seemed, on first meeting, not to have any major mental health complaints, and was actually rather attractive. Shock horror! She was a friend of a friend we bumped into. So, I was chatting to her for a bit...then we went into Via Fossa and I was talking to her pals...a really canny lesbian couple (maybe there are some ok ones out there?). Suddenly, it was 3.00am! I honestly don't know how that happened. But a few of us went outside for a cigarette and then they wouldn't let us back in because it was closing time. I had no idea it was that late, and was planning on chatting to Sally some more. Alas, I didn't even say goodbye.

The next day, all Pride-d out, my pals headed across to a safari park for the day. As I had just arrived the previous evening and wasn't all Pride jaded like them, I decided to head into Canal Street on my own to check out the stalls and generally people-watch (a favourite activity of mine...particularly at events like Pride festivals...some right characters!). Half a pint in, I bumped into my friends Steph and Jo, so ended up tagging along with them for the rest of the day. Steph, who was straight when I met her (putting people into boxes...me?) in uni halls, is now out-lezzying me...she and Jo have been together for about 5 years now!

The next day, after a sedate evening at an Italian restaurant, it was back in my car (which is surviving rather well, despite still making funny noises and losing speed on any sort of incline!) and heading down to Folkstone. Yes, I know it doesn't make any sense to be going Gateshead-Farnham-Southampton-Manchester-Folkstone-Gateshead...but Manchester Pride is something of a ritual and I had planned to go there before I realised that it was the same weekend as my pals' wedding. And I wanted to see Gossip again too.

Folkstone...to visit another friend I've known since I was 16. So Katy has been living in Folkstone almost as long as I have been in Newcastle, but I have never yet visited her there (nor has she visited me, I hasten to add, although she does have a child to consider). In fact, I have only seen her once in those nine-ish years...although we have kept sporadically in touch via e-mail, MySpace, etc.

And it was very nice to see her. From initially being known as 'Katy the scary goth girl' (who, upon first meeting told me her plans to get her clitoral hood pierced), she really has grown. As, I suppose, is to be expected in over a decade!

There are no great stories to tell about my time at Katy's. She was even more skint than I (although today I have checked my bank balance...I have been avoiding doing so...and I am over my overdraft, with 11 days to go until pay day...which will then only just about take me back up to zero! Then when my mortgage payment etc. goes out, I'll be in the same boat again. Aargh! Any rich sugar mummies out there?), therefore most of the time was spent in the house...chatting etc. (she is one of the very few people who can probably out-talk me...this is some feat!).

I met her son, who is now five, for the first time...I have officially been introduced to the wonders of Ben 10! My favourite toy he had was called Upchuck...nice. Reminiscent of the Garbage Pail kids? Anyone remember them? I used to collect the stickers.

Obviously highly appropriate for an infant school-aged child...it may explain a lot!

So we did lots and lots of talking; about all sorts of things really. Like her current weight loss programme. As far as I can tell, this essentially means not eating. Sure, she has lost weight, but what a way to live your life. As long as you are not seriously endangering your health (I mean in terms of being overweight), then why not live it, and enjoy it, while you can? So I questioned her quite a bit about why being thin was so important to her. I still don't really understand. Thankfully it is not something I personally obsess over...in fact, I find it wearying that everyone at work (when I'm there!) always seems to be on a diet. And it simply annoys me when people constantly 'compliment' me when I have lost weight. My weight goes up and down...just because I don't monitor it. I go through phases where I can't possibly eat enough, and others where food just does not interest me. And often, when they are telling me I look great, it is because I have been ill!

Why does society prize sticky out, pointy, boniness? It doesn't make sense to me. Look at art...the most beautiful paintings have always been of curvaceous, rubenesque women (the clue is in the word, I guess...coined after the voluptuous women in Peter Paul Rubens' paintings):

This, in my opinion, is how women should look. Curves are sexy goddamnit! Shock horror, we see some cellulite...really, ask yourself what makes that unattractive? Society has conditioned us to believe it to be totally abhorrent...but why so? Some flesh on those bones is the very epitome of fecundity, if we are thinking in evolutionary terms...it means a woman is capable of nourishing and sustaining life within her. And since we're all only, basically, here to reproduce...

Last word on the whole topic of body image...did you know (I'm sure you did, as it's a pretty well-known fact I think) that if Barbie, with her proportions, was a real human being, she would not be physically capable of conceiving, or even menstruating? In fact, she'd probably fall over! Ha! Just in case you never saw this great advert:

On with the show...

Katy, whilst I was at hers, introduced me to http://pandora.com/. Which I LOVE! It's based on something called the Music Genome Project, in which, basically, a load of songs, from a load of different genres of music, were taken and analysed for their musical properties...you know, like folk roots, acoustic guitars, strong female vocal, minor key tonality, electronica influences...whatever. There are squillions of these 'factors'. So, you put in a song, or artist, you like, and it plays you stuff that it thinks is similar or that you might also like. I have (typically) put in a long and varied list, ranging from country to rock to trip-hop, and lots of things in between. And it does play some duds...but mostly it's pretty good. It plays like a radio station (but attuned to your personal tastes), and you can say 'yay' or 'nay' to each song as is plays, which further informs the music they will play you. Great idea methinks.

The things I have bookmarked (to check out further at some later date...when I get around to it) so far include:

Glitter Mini 9; Supreme Beings of Leisure; 100 Watt Smile; Hazard County Girls; Giant Drag...oh, tonnes more, I can't be bothered listing them all! (I would link to my bookmarks page for y'all to see, but it has my e-mail address on, and I'm not that foolish in a place where anyone can read this!). The song it is playing at the moment, hilariously, is by Dean Ford and the Gaylords!

Oh, and it has some great artist bios and album reviews too...what more could you want? I think the only artist I've tried to put in so far that they didn't have was The Need...so there really is a copious amount of stuff on there; although it does seem to play some 'thumbs upped' songs more often than other stuff.

The only snag is that you have to be a US citizen to use it. Pah! Just stick in a US zip code and you're away. Easy peasy. Katy disclosed that she just put in 90210...this amused me. I, however, have decided that Austin is where it's at, so have gone for a Texas post code. But you could be from the OC, or even Alaska, if you like.

The other music-related thing for this'un is my discovery that you can get Limewire Pro for free (if you use Limewire, anyway)...all you have to do is type 'Limewire Pro' into the search box on Limewire itself! And bingo...faster downloads (without forking out)...yay! Yes, I do download music...but this is not something I feel too guilty about, as I am also one of the music industry's most prolific cd buyers! I mostly use Limewire to check stuff out and try before I buy, or for if I only want one song by a particular artist, that kind of thing. That's my justification.

Over and out.

Procrastination and inertia a la Divinyl...aka more random bollocks!

I type this blog with vampish red nails (of varying lengths!). This is the first time I've had red nails in...well, ever, I think! They have been black/green/blue/you name it in my younger days (as has my hair...pretty much every colour save for black on that one...although it has been as dark brown as you can get. It's kind of forgotten what colour it is supposed to be underneath nowadays! Red was quite a favourite for a while...bright, pillarbox red. And that never seems to go away completely!), but never really anything as trad as red (we're back on the nails, the parentheses were just particularly long!).

It is my pal's wedding on Saturday, and my outfit is red. Not like scarlet woman red...not made of satin, or boned, or anything like that! I believe it to be appropriate for this pal's wedding. I have already painted my nails because I simply couldn't wait...I got too excited about trying it out after buying the nail varnish...such a kid! My toenails are also red...and I seriously don't remember the last time I painted them! Yes, I am femme as far as lezzies go...but not that uber-high maintenance femme! I'm having a drama about my toes actually...well, one specific toe anyway.

Nope, I don't have some deformed Elephant Man growth or club foot; nor six toes like Anne Boleyn (who I always thought was called Amber Lynne when I was a child)...my feet are quite normal thank you, except, that is, for their humongous size...UK size 8 (European 41)...gargantuan! Especially at the age of about 11, when I still had to try and find brown school shoes...you can imagine, I'm sure. Anyhoo, the toe...

Yup, I busted the little toe on my right foot. Tripped on the stairs. And nearly ripped it off! Seriously...my pals who are doctors even thought it was all icky and gross. It's basically torn away from the toe next to it...a big fissure between the two. Aargh! I can still wiggle it, so don't think it's broken...but don't know what I'm going to do about the fact that I'd planned to wear red kitten-heeled flip-flop-stylee shoes on Saturday. I don't know if I'll be able to walk in them without doing it even more damage in the healing process! Thankfully, however, it is no longer black. I thought I was doing a Michael Jackson-type thing, only backwards (the Moonwalk?)! Snigger.

Ok, I'm sorry, this is dull...so, the last word on the nail polish...it is slightly sparkly...a bit Dorothy-esque...although in a relatively understated (as understated as red nail polish can be!) kind of way...not full-on, in your face glitz...not like a drag queen's lipstick sparkly red. Enough of this already...

So...I have been watching quite a lot of fil-ums lately. These have included: Annie Hall, The Bourne Identity and Supremacy, The Forgotten (which I thought I'd think was shit, but then I started thinking I might enjoy it. Turns out my first instincts were spot on. But Julianne Moore...grrr), Near Dark (a complete waste of two hours of my life...utter pants!) , a couple of John Waters films (I'm purposefully avoiding the new Hairspray...why does it even exist?) and Monster House. This last one had a trailer for a film called Stranger Than Fiction (a rather odd one to have on a children's dvd methinks)...which stars Queen Latifah, Emma Thompson and Maggie Gyllenhaal. Sounds great! Except that Queen Latifah, no matter how hot she is, always seems to be in crap films. And it also stars Will Ferrell...guh! Seriously, I can't be doing with these 'funnymen'...you know, the ones who make a living out of gurning senselessly and 'oof, something just hit me in the balls' gags...I avoid Jim Carrey, Eddie Murphy, Adam Sandler, Chris Rock, Robin Williams (with the odd 'serious role' exception) etc. at all cost.

But female players-wise, we seem to be onto a good'un...throw in Ana Matronic and you've got me a party! Ok, and Rachel Griffiths, French, and indeed Saunders, Kirstie Allsopp (a bit of posh!), a sprinkling of Drew Barrymore (who I've fancied since I was about 10!), Josie Lawrence, Clea Duvall, Ruth Jones...can't think of any more right now...and I'm ready to roll! What do all these women have in common? Very little I should think. But they are often quirky, few are classically 'beautiful', none are too skinny (for famous people, anyway), and many have good noses. Generally dark-haired, amusing, roundish ladies are good...with a few exceptions.

Shall we move on? How about to the usual TV round-up? I'll very swiftly cover the Big Brother house...I positively can't abide Carole...and don't get me started on Ziggy (with his piggy little eyes and his smarm...not a man to be trusted). Please don't let either of them win. Generally pretty dull in there though. I am, however, throughly enjoying Heroes thus far. I am particularly pleased it has Ali Larter in it!

I saw a great show the other day, on TMF I think. It was a show from MTV called 'Little Talent Show'...an X-Factor/Pop Idol-style programme, in which three judges had to identify a “triple threat” (i.e. someone who can act, dance and sing). By golly, these judges are dim (one said “Are we in agreeance?”!) and seventeenth rate. And there's a severe over-abundance of use of the phrase "Bring it!"...which doesn't even mean anything! And the talent? There is indeed little of it. Hmmm. It's completely purposefully demeaning to these folk...who are doing all this for the grand prize of...wait for it...$500! Seriously, really not worth it...but quite amusing to watch in a slow moment.

As for adverts...today my comment shall be upon Venus Vibrance. (I just got an e-mail from 'metatatically Tidwell'! I hate these auto-spam-porn things that I constantly get sent, but I daren't open them to try and stop it, in case they are virus-y things...I know little about computers!). Anyway, the razor...

The advert tells us that “Inside every woman is power”. And the message here is?? That you can unleash it and be powerful...so long as you have smooth underarms? And what's with the whole vibrating razor thing? How does that help? Surely it can only be intended for one specific use? Just make sure you don't get the wrong end...maah!

My last musing/query for today is about the term 'the dog's bollocks'. Why is that a good thing? I mean, I'm sure dogs like them, but surely dogs' bollocks are something that humans invariably get rid of? Imagine if the shoe was on the other foot! Dogs' bollocks are not, I shouldn't imagine, very attractive...human ones certainly leave a lot to be desired! I really just don't get it. Anybody got an explanation? I so can't be arsed Googling trying to find out!

I'll leave you, for now, with a quotation...from Kath and Kim...a generally amusing show, but this time it actually made me laugh out loud (and I was sitting on my lonesome)...

“I'm gonna cook your favourite dinner tonight – rack off lamb”...superb!

Right...I'm off on my jaunts! Southampton, then Manchester, then back down to Kent...pray my little car gets me to all of these places and back! It's just had a full service and MOT (£250-something...even though it only needed my brake fluid changing and the headlamps realigning...or summat...rip-off merchants!), yet it's still chugging and making funny noises...cripes!

Last thing...honest. I could have had a tenner for free the other day. No, really. The guy in front of me at the cash point walked off without taking his money (how dumb is that?!). I, like the Catholic-ally (even though I'm not) honest good citizen I am, raced after him to consociate it with its rightful owner. Did I get a 'thank you'? Did I heck as like...all I got was a “Jesus, I'd lose my head...”. Zip. Should've pocketed it!

Current Music: Old Crow Medicine Show - O.C.M.S./Sam Baker - Pretty World

A 'gayer' writes...

I have just found out about openoffice.org...wow! I have done without having Microsoft Word on my computer for so long...I didn't know it could be so easy! This is exactly the same...and free (and where I typed this blog)!

So...onto what I am really here to write about. And that is marriage.

I am sick of it.

One of my good friends is getting married in two weeks time (the hen 'do' was this weekend, but I am too skint to go to both, so missed out, unfortunately. And I'm not sure my car's well enough to get me down to Southampton for the wedding...it's making some very funny noises...hmmm). Another, in the same group of friends, got married last August, and another texted me yesterday to say she got engaged this week.

Is it something about being 27? A load of school peeps I have recently caught up with on Facebook are getting married this year as well.

And here's me, continually flying solo...I haven't had a proper relationship in about 6 years! Is it just easier for straight people to pair off? Am I too picky? Am I too shy about meeting people? Or are they just (collectively) starting to panic? They are all a lot more worried about this whole ageing business than I seem to be. Hmmm.

Whilst I am happy for all of these friends, it just brings home to me that I am likely to end up a lonely old spinster who goes through life without companionship! Even just some mindless fucking now and then might be nice! If they have all already found the one, how come it's been so long since I've even found a one??

Ok, so, admittedly lesbians are a hard bunch to fancy...my choices are much more limited than a straight person's I guess...and the pool I have to choose from generally doesn't seem worth bothering with!

But I am beginning to wonder if it is just me, when everyone else is finding somebody significant! Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I just don't come into contact with many gay women. If it was men I was after, well I'm in contact with straight men every day, so there would be more opportunities...it's just that I really don't fancy having to settle for a willy in my life!

And so, as time moves on, I am becoming the only one who doesn't have a 'plus one' on their invitation, the only one who turns up alone and is the singleton in the group. The old maid of an auntie in the corner! And that's not much fun...ok, it's alright for now, at this age, and with friends I'm comfortable with and have known a long time, but it's going to wear thin eventually, eh?

I don't single myself out for being gay...it's just one facet of who I am. Who I sleep with (or not, as the case seems to be!) has little bearing on other things. But it is singling (ha ha) me out without me wanting it to!

Even if I was straight, I am not one to tow the line...I don't personally believe in marriage...and don't get me started on civil ceremonies...baloney!

Ok, rant over for now I guess. One last thing (and, as per my usual form, completely unrelated)...why, in the supermarket, can you not buy caramelised cashew nuts? Why do they have to come hand-in-hand with peanuts? I'm not a fan of peanuts, and it seems silly to buy a packet only to eat the cashews and then throw the rest away. Even they have paired up on me!
Hang on...perhaps this is linked. Perhaps the Miss Right out there is the one who wants the peanuts and not the cashews??

I learnt a new word...

Sesquipedalian.

Look it up...does exactly what it says on the tin!

And all due to my new found addiction (yes, you may have gathered that they are frequent, but short-lived! Tee hee) to riddle games.

Check out http://www.lautman.net/riddlesofriddles/ for some fab ones. and you could also try http://udiy.org/web%20riddle/.

This is of course, should you have the time, the patience, and very little else to do!

The waxing and waning...

At the moment, I am feeling that my life is definitely in a waning period. Whilst it was waxing, albeit sluggishly, enough for me to get back to work and try to be a useful citizen (and ensure I still had some money coming in to pay the mortgage!), things now don't seem to be going to any sort of plan. Or certainly not any plan of my knowledge or formulation…and as I don't believe in divine beings and so forth…

I am managing to get to work each day, this much is true [Edit: Since I first wrote the start of this, I've now been off work for a week...I managed one further day!]. And it doesn't even feel as 'skin of the teeth' as it did there for a while. But, unfortunately, with success (if you could call it that; simply the ability to hold down a 9-5) comes obstinacy from every other area of my life…it has created such difficulties with everything else. Kick-back I guess.

My house is now back to being what the intellectual might term 'minging', I am finding myself increasingly alone and, when any interaction with others is called for, this seems to be fraught with tensions. Perhaps it is time for me to just crawl back under my rock? Ok, so it offers few solutions, but at least it has a familiar scent.

("I now believe that depression is not a 'psychiatric illness'. Depression is a coping mechanism, a withdrawal within oneself when reaching out to others has become too painful, too risky. Depression is an unhappy place to be, but for the person who suffers with it, depression is the lesser of two evils." - Terry Lynch)

This once would not have been enough. Now even the basics are too much. It used to be that I (at least felt I) could valiantly take on anything that was thrown at me (sometimes literally!), and even lick the edges of the bowl. As I have travelled through the corridors of time, I seem to have misplaced one of the ingredients!

The help I have been screaming for, aloud for some six years now, silently for much longer, has been a devil…it hasn't even bothered with the disguise. Not exactly forthcoming, there was, latterly, at least some perceived light at the end of the tunnel. And even though this light was an intrusion, it was apprehensively welcomed as what can only be, long-term, a good thing, something which will, finally, allow me to flower.

I have waited a year, patiently, as instructed. I have had many difficulties, yet have remained polite. Then I was told that the year was going to slip to two, next to two and a half…somebody out there is desperate to keep me on the bottom of the pile…and I'm not even talking metaphorically. Finally, a knight (or knightress?) in shining armour, sword snicker-snacking through the undergrowth, showing me the path…and yet I find myself still waiting.

My head is just about above water, but I really don't have to squint much to make out the obstacles, snares and nasties in the murky depths below. I wave solemnly as I see various aspects of the life I want to live float past, just out of reach. I am treading water, unable to swim against the current…and I know my legs won't hold out forever.

The darkness closes in, reliably as night follows day, follows night, follows day, around me…and I find that I am still alone. The air is heavy, not enough to breathe freely, and as I gasp and splutter I wonder, sometimes, if things would just be simpler if I let myself go with the current…let it take me where it wants, let the water have my lungs.

But I am too proud…and such a good swimmer!

And the make-up is applied so meticulously, in such a practiced way, that the cracks don't even show any more. But if people can't see for themselves the dark recesses, the shadows that follow me around, or hear the creaking of the walls closing in around me, all my strength in trying to hold them up, then how do they know to help? My voice barks loudly, the meaning of what I say ignored, trampled, misunderstood.

This idea of walls is something that, in my little brain, I often return to...the best analogy that I can find is that it often feels like I'm sitting on a cold stone floor of a bare room, in which the walls are painted black. There is a rope attached to each wall, and I've got to keep my grip on all of them, or the walls will fall in around me. But I'm struggling to hold onto all of them, and even if I just let one go...kablam! I feel them slipping. Or, you know in films, like Indiana Jones, where the walls are gradually inching closer, threatening to squash you? Well, I don't have the strength to hold them back and keep them at bay.

If I could just grab the string of a passing balloon, the shiny, swollen hope it offers carrying me off to new worlds beyond the horizon; new worlds where troubles drift away and I can learn to be someone new. But even balloons are so flimsy, so vulnerable and unpredictable…

Eventually, I will sink, limp, down…coming to rest in some undiscovered underwater cave…dark and fearsome. And I will drown or grow gills before they find me! My limbs with atrophy, and what they find will not be identifiable as human…if indeed it even started out that way.

I ebb with the tide…and ebb..and ebb…

Your words, your ways…they have changed me. I have strength in that I am still here. But it is strength enough only for survival…not for life, not for union, not for joy. I was not built to be Atlas and my shoulders cannot withstand the pressure bearing down upon me.

It was supposed to be that I would be free without you…set out until the barren moorland became a blossoming meadow. But I didn't get enough light, and it stifled my growth. I don't know how to cope with the world that is not you…that is all I have learnt. The weeds have been plucked, but the roots remain, undisturbed, festering. And it grows apace, underground, undetected.

And so, surreptitiously, your punishment continues…