The duality of all things

The last few months have been cram-packed full of lovely things. Too much to mention...as I always say.

Pain of Salvation were pretty spiffing in London...even if they were received very poorly by a crowd full of pretentious death metal fans who think that anyone who sings and doesn't growl is a 'pussy'. And that is not speculation, I spoke to plenty of them that night. Sadly. Bloody great night though.

I have learned recently that having childcare qualifications doesn't make people good with children or even particularly capable of looking after them. I think it's probably personality traits and wisdom that are key (And just to clarify, this is not about any one person in particular - I know several people who have qualified in childcare/teaching, etc and are awesome with kids - just some things I've noticed from a number of different places and situations).

My blue-eyed boy bought me surprise Manic Street Preacher tickets for my birthday. Oh yes. Because I'm awesome and evidently so is he! Strange, one of the brightest parts of my present reconnecting me with the dark threads of my past. 'This is the past that's mine'. It's the show they're playing in London where they shall be blessing (and educating) our ears and souls with every single they've released. All 38 of them. I think it's 38...

It seems that to be friends with someone and to keep a grasp of their loyalty...you need to see them more than several times a month, regardless of what else you have going on in your life. Therefore...rendering 'loyaly' null and void surely? I'll explain, There are some people I see once every few months and still feel as close to them as ever, every time I see them. And then there are others who I have been ridiculously close to, and they seem cold and clammy (err!) whenever I see them recently. As though I have betrayed them somehow. I'm afraid life doesn't really work like that for me. I've learned an immense amount about friendship over the past two years. And my life is better for it.

Quote of the week from random Irish sitcom:
'Step away...from the feckin' vehicle' I'm going to say that to the next person who tries to threaten or intimidate me. :-P

I'll stop with the wittering now.

Something I said

Something I find annoying: when people who have never been/never go to church/never read the bible insist on getting married in a church. Why why why? It's like...dressing up as a penguin and going to sit in a zoo. Because that's what everyone else is doing. Or something. Not that I'm a Christian as we all very well know, I just cannot stand it when people dress themselves up in an idea that they have no real grasp of, no true belief in.

Something I find wonderful: Road Salt Two. Lots of suspected storylines (ooh that's right, I said it - yes, I do believe Road Salt One and Road Salt Two to be concept albums (the modern definition of a concept album with an actual tale to be told) rather than just thematic masterpieces: have THAT you poncy, pretentious, painfully-tedious prog elitists!) confirmed from RS1. Listening to Road Salt Two is like watching a large building collapsing. With memory-invoking pictures smashed to the floor and rooms falling in on themselves, foundations of a life turning to dust and grey and rubble, a landscape changed forever.

Something I am enjoying immensely: Mr. Doyle. Yes yes, I know...I usually only get soppy about the children in my life, but James Doyle has one of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered. And I've done nothing to deserve it or what we have between us. How strange to hold something so fragile and delicate yet so strong at the same time in the palm of my hands. In our hands.

Something I should be doing right now: Housework. *yawn*. I'm so glad that I live in the 21st Century right now - there's nothing worse than the prospect of building a giant housewife-shaped coffin to fester away and die in.

Something I can't be bothered to do right now: Complete this blog entry.

OMGZ!! EYM SO FUNNAY!!!!111one

..Shut up.

Quite frankly, my dear...

...I've left it too long since my last blog post. There are too many things to update you with so I shall just continue as I am...vague, nonchalant towards my poor readers, forever floating in a sea of apathy. Apathy towards the internet that is, nothing else.

I want a Slow Loris, and if I don't get one for my birthday I'l scweam and scweam! ...Or maybe I'll just shrug my shoulders and resign myself to another birthday full of non-events. Although last year's birthday did include one of the most wonderful gifts I've ever received thanks to Zak and James. Anyway, here is what you will buy me on 15th November:

(and the umbrella too)

But seriously, my birthday plans so far consist of a Pain of Salvation/Opeth concert and then a weekend in Eastbourne. For once, I am genuinely looking forward to a birthday.

Life is pretty amazing, I just wish I didn't get so tired so easily. I could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. And I eat all my fruit and vegetables too!

It was Benathon's birthday (one of my amazing nephews) yesterday and apparently he came downstairs in the morning and asked miserably where 'the sock thing' was. Aww, that's Christmas, you adorable little sillyman! <3 Love him. Plus, he called me 'your majesty' on the phone last night. Kids fucking rule.

That'll be all for now, happy campers.

Also...

...I would quite like to live in a Richard Dadd painting.

'Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.'

I'll start by telling all you lovely people that the other day I watched a few episodes of 'ridiculouslyparanoidandself-centeredvacuouswomen and the city' for the first time in about three years. I have a totally different perspective on that program these days and end up sympathising with the men most of the time - that poor Mr. Big who was so patient with Carrie's constant whining and over-evaluating of NOTHING (not that I can talk about the over-evaluating, but I don't get carried away with a random thought and decide he DOESN'T LOVE ME BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SAY 'I LOVE YOU TOO' WHEN HE WAS IN A RUSH SAYING GOODBYE ON THE PHONE!') and, frankly, I have no idea how he put up with it which leads me to the concluson that women are just fucking mental. Actuuuaaaally mental.

Lots of nice musical things have happened lately.

My dog had to die. I cried. He was the best dog ever. :(

I don't know what I've done to deserve such a wonderful boy but there he is, standing there in his boots with his big grins and his musicalness. Like a little bundle of happiness and calm for Joanna. This is what it's supposed to be like, isn't it?

The last couple of weeks have consisted of...*deep breath*...visits and utterly lovely times at Shell's parents' house, watching some local wrestling (interesting how the group of guys sitting near us were commenting on the performance, technique, character, and entertaining qualities of the male wrestlers, but only had comments on the appearance of the female wrestlers. Aside from that innevitable letdown from the human race, it was an exciting experience which I will definitely do again! I like a room full of testosterone and sweat, so's I do), continental breakfasts with Jamesface Cookenblau III esq., been to Thorpe Park and went mental on the Saw ride and Colossus (hell yeah!): by the end of the day we looked like shit but were beaming with sunshine from our little faces, sadly had to miss Becca's Butlins Bridesmaid Bash weekend - I'm not enjoying this budgeting malarkey but if I want free time and a bit of peace for my soul I need to compromise my working hours somewhat (I have my bridesmaid dress fitting next week though so that'll be more than fun, innit!), had my feet nibbled by fish and a lovely lunch with mummy Kaykay, as always loads of nice trips to Kev and Shell's with James and my little brother....and I suppose that's about it.

Am I the only person who thinks that doll is just a bit too cute to be scary? No? Just me?

And now I am making something birthdaylike and surprisey which I bloodywell hope turns out okay. And cakeybakey times on the morrow after work. Life has picked up a pace again which needed to happen.

Also, I'd just like to say that Adele's voice is enchantingly soulful and seeped in emotion. It's a shame I don't like a massive amount of her music. And I kinda wish she'd sing about some issues other than love. Because that voice could tell some stories.

That'll be all.

'You've brought back an excitement and curiosity into my life that I thought I'd lost forever.' <3

'And all my armour falling down in a pile at my feet...'

'And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.'

Drums like heartbeats

Last week a colleague and I took some people to a club called Jumpin' Jacks. It was their learning disabilities night and it was PACKED. The moment that pumping music with your bog-standard basic beats (you know, the usual pop/club crap) started thumping out of the speakers, people's bodies began moving. Now several of the people there were really quite advanced with their disability and had no communcation skills whatsoever but they still felt the music and moved their bodies to it, almost involuntarily...and it got me thinking of when I hear a winding, sexy eastern drum beat, or a full-on inyerface metal drum solo: my hips can't help but move. It just goes to show that however detached or attached we are from our own societies, we are still truly 'as one' sometimes, and it also goes to show how fucking amazing music is and how if there has been anything close to miraculous during our thousands of tumultuous years on this doomed planet...then that thing is music. Melodies like blood running through veins. Drums like heartbeats.

So, things have been strangely shit and strangely awesome. Everything is black and white all at the same time. Some new things have happened, and some things that are all too familiar and old. It depresses me how clinically people look at things sometimes.

Also, it's all a bit new and strange to trust someone instantly in that way. Am I foolish? Or just lucky? He has a beautiful heart which kind of...shines. I'm used to hearts of all different colours, but not shiny ones! That probably makes sense only to me...shut up Joanna. Strange how it all happened. How he crept inside my head without me really knowing. Sneaky little shit.

The days move a bit too slowly at the moment; it can be frustrating waiting for depleted energies to creep back into the blue. But I need to look after myself. And that I shall do.

Louis Wain's descent into madness and psychosis: fascinating how indicative this simple set of images is of how our view of things around us can become blurred and obscured so very easily...

'Doubt seperates people. It is the poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts.'

Dynamics change. People behave strangely. Things slip through fingers. Things fall apart.

Oftentimes the best things in life destroy themselves from the inside.

Gushing is nature's way of celebrating excess. That's my excuse anyway.

It's Easter. And I don't care about Easter. Or Zombie Jesus. Have that.

Today happiness sounds like:
Camille O'Sullivan.
and
King Diamond.
Just so you know.

I have had an endoftheweek full of musical goodness. Thursday saw Khthon battle it out for their Bloodstock chances and I must say I actually quite enjoyed the dooooooooomness of it all. Needless to say they won and are now in the semi-finals. Well done Mr. Doomwizard \m/. Then Friday was the Electric Circus: another amazing night...probably the best yet actually. Even if the local riverside Gnats feasted heartily on my upper thighs *sigh*. (And check out the awesome review: Click or die.) Dogtown burst my eardrums (in a good way). Then Brides of Rain soothed and excited my soul to the point where my hips, in the end, actually had a mind of their own; sway, sway, jiggle, grind. The metal and ethnic drumming, melodies that lift you away to other lands and planes, the texture of their sound, and the spirit and energy that they weave just takes me right to my primal core.

Which perhaps brings me to say how proud I am of my amazing friends. James and Kevin, not only are you the two best friends anyone could ever wish for but you are also two of the most creative and talented people I have ever met. You never fail to inspire me. I won't gush too much...when I moved back to Kent I was apprehensive about whether I would settle back into an old circle of friends or whether I'd be bored of the area again straight away. There were big chunks of myself that I thought had died, never to return. And James (and very recently Kev alongside him) brought them back to life. No matter what happens, who lets me down, where I am headed in life, I can always count on you two for continued support, encouragement, ABSOLUTE understanding, hours of hysterical laughter, intellectual stimulation (*snigger*), honesty (to the point of bluntness...not that I can talk :p), in-jokes, patience, and a comfort I have never had with friends before, and never thought possible. You keep me from that slow boat to China. We're like the guys from A Home At The End of The World. Except I promise I won't have a baby and then fuck off.

Also worthy of note: it isn't wise to attempt to step on a Scorpio. Because we sting.

Try getting a policeman in an envelope. You'll see what I mean.

Well, well, well...it's been quite some time Mr. Blog, has it not?

Before we start, I would just like to say that Killing Joke make life better. There is no question or argument about it. They just do.

So in short, my last month and a half has consisted of lovely days in London (a pub with a tree in it and that sells Kopparburg - what more could a girl wish for?); a sponsored walk for Autism in Richmond Park (I raised over 80 quid - get in!), several Brass Band concerts all over ze places (one of which we travelled to in a fish van...yep, a van made of fish...or so it smelt. Grim.); nice family times with the best sisters, brothers, and niece and nephews in the world EVER - fact; Elgar's Dream of Gerontius in Maidstone, Carol's leaving 'do', many evenings and nights at Kev and Shell's having a ruddy blast! Don't mind if I do!; Bluewater (yuk); making lovely new doomy friends; swimming; dinner parties; and knuckling down into some artwork properly. Good and proper. Yes.

Alsooooo, The Electric Circus happened, so's it did, with Brides of Rain who simply made the night glitter and shine and dazzle: I got lost in the wonderful mixture of modern and ancient sounds created by some very talented local musicians. I am not feeling very poetic today, I'm afraid, so you won't get any magical descriptions about them just yet. No sir! Anyway, here they are: Clicky McClickerson - Brides of Rain

I am a big spluttering sicky today which explains the fact that I actually have time to update my blog. Ooh and to create a Twitter account. Which I will undoubtedly use intensely for a week and then forget all about.

Here, have some music:

Nice bit of social commentary there. Well done Polly.

Ciao!

What would I be without my friends?

My friends. My amazing friends. They enrich my life and bring me joy daily. And I'm the luckiest girl alive to have the people in my life that I do. Thank you.

Titles are for wimps and posers. And mice.

During the early noughties I would update my blog almost every day. On one hand, the fact that I no longer do this is a good indication that my life is busy and buzzing and bustling and any other 'b' synonyms you can think of. On the other hand, I find myself sitting here after two weeks of activity wondering how I'm going to sum everything up in a relatively coherent and/or interesting way. Don't get me wrong: I do mainly write these blogs for myself to look back on, but whoever is reading it (even if that is me in ten years) needs to be entertained to some degree, otherwise...well....I suppose my litle brain concludes that that would make the writer boring. And frankly, I can't think of much worse than being boring. Rape? Pah. Mass Genocide? Kid's stuff. Justin Beiber?....okay, maybe he is worse than plain boringness.

Shut up and get on with your update, dickhead.

I've had a day out with my Father: we went for lunch in Ash, walked around Hartley (where my dad told me about my great-grandfather who died from being kicked in the testicles by a cow. Don't tell me not to laugh. It won't work. That is just funny. I give you permission to laugh also, dear reader), and showed me where he went to school in Gravesend. Whilst in Gravesend he told me a story of an old woman who lived on the corner by the quay: she used to shout at all the schoolkids walking past, and angrily shake a wooden spoon or various other kitchen implements at them. This is also funny. Though I was somewhat disappointed to learn that she did not throw poo or manky cats at them. Mad old women come in various forms though. It is important to remember that.

I've attended a Zumba class. Hmm. Yeah but no.

'We're kissing the lips of strangers 

we're hugging whoever next we meet
Oh life, I love you to my bones'  

Sadly said goodbye to the best Manager I've ever worked for. I am sad to see Carol leave. She was like a strong tower in the middle of a field of forlorn jesters and manic goats. I don't really know about the jesters or the goats actually....the tower just made my imagination spiral. I like the imagery however, so I'm going to keep this metaphor, however innacurate it might be. So there.

'Man, everything's just so simple

when you're laughing until your face is sore

Oh life, I love you to my bones'

Spent the most wonderful two days in London. Rob Zombie (hell yeaaaah!), fantastic new friends, lunch and wine in Covent Garden (during which, James and I looked at each other and both said that this is what life should be like all the time. And it's true. Because we're the best), chainsaw jugglers with pink pants, drinks on the Southbank, hotel room visitors (no, no hookers - I am referring to the MOUSE. Yes, the mouse), then back home to relaxy times and visits to the Fluff-monster's flat of doom and cats and japes. I felt free and my spirit was completely at ease for the first time in months. I am free when shackled to the road (thanks Frank). Sadly, it all had to finish and I ended up having a shitwanking day at work. Still. I don't care enough to winge about it so that's all you need to know. And no, I'm not in trouble! I 'have my head screwed on'. To which my father replied 'yes, it's just the wrong way round'. Thanks Daddy!

'I've got punch lines and fisty-cuffs
and tons and tons of love'

Yeah, life. We like it. This is one of the songs that sums up my week (ironically it's by Wallis Bird who James randomly bumped into at the bar at the Rob Zombie gig. Well, that was unexpected.).This is dedicated to all my lovely friends who made my week so fantastic. And to life. To life. L'Chaim!

Lots of girls don't like me.

This is fine.

'There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle: the other is as though everything is a miracle.'

Someone PLEASE give me a link for a website that sells decent heavy metal t-shirts for girls. I'm sick of modifying all my man-shaped ones. And I mean decent heavy metal band t-shirts....as a girl it seems the only bands I am expected to like are Nightwish, Green Day, and fucking HIM. Fuck. Off. We're not all dribbling Twilight and Kerrang junkies! SOME OF US ARE INTO THE GOOD STUFF YOU KNOW! I do not like Avenged Shitfold or Buttlick for my Valentine. All I want in life is a lovely King Diamond 'Abigail' t-shirt. Is that really too much to ask for? :(

I suppose it's about time for an actual update. I have a headache but seeing as you're all a bit special (do I mean that in a good or a bad way? That's for me to know, ahah!..) I'll recap my last couple of weeks. Just a bit.

Here you are:
+ I have had uber-relaxy, family, Abigaily-birthday times in Reading. That weekend made me realise that my family life is exactly how I've always wanted it to be: fun, relaxing, and smiley. Then I did the same thing in Wolverhampton with other family-types and lovely friends, all of whom I miss muchly. Pubs. Dinners and lunches out. Lots of giggles. Crazy dogs. Awesome kids. Sarah-times (FINALLY! And much needed, might I add!). My little Benathon making me dress up as a sheep (in his aged-5 sheep costume! That's right): the things I do for that boy.

+ I attended the third Electric Circus with the best band line-up yet. Dogtown, Datura, and Cavalcade. I danced my little heart out, met some new cool people, and laughed a lot. I also got lost in the music of Cavalcade, as always.

+ Obee's birthday party in Rochester: I haven't laughed that much in a long time. Much hilarity took place. Which I have on camera - that's right Natalie, I'm looking at you! Sexy cocktails. Getting to know the lovely Caroline a bit better.

+ Smashing giggle-times with James and Zak. They're my homies.

+ Trips all over London visiting some of my grandparents' properties and the exact spot where my Father proposed to my Mother. I never met my grandparents so it was all a bit interesting to get a glimpse into who they were and what their lives had been like. Also, I now want to live in a posh London townhouse. Claaaaassy!

This has been a shallow entry. (Ooh err!)

Have some music: (please ignore the cheesey picture. I just have to put this piece of music out there. Yes.)

'The beast is loose in the streets of Bethlehem, the rats are in the corn'

For some reason somebody left a light bulb standing upright on the toilet cistern, and nobody in my house got the joke when I asked if the toilet had had a really good idea. :-(

Last week I did the joyously narcissistic thing of searching for songs with my name in them. I'm so vain, I probably think those songs are about me. Oh shut up, Joanna. So yeah, to be honest, hearing songs with my name in freaks me out a little bit (okay, almost to the point of mania in some cases - The one from Sweeney Todd, par example. Though I won't pretend the line 'I'll steal you' isn't a little bit...thrilling.*). I remember when I was a kid my parents bought me a personalised book with a story about me inside, and it freaked me out so much that I ripped it up in panic and disgust. Anyway, my search came to a definitive end once I got to a horrible song by a band called Watashi-Wa (described as 'Christian Pop Punk' – oh, is there anything worse?). I got so annoyed at the state of the human race and their feeble attempts to make music for the sake of it that I simply had to walk away from the whole enterprise.

On a different tone, so many people have died in the last two weeks. And so many of my friends are in pain or trouble. There's something bleak under the surface of this week's waters that I can't quite put my finger on. Not just for me and my peeps (Peeps? Really?), but for human beans in general. Hmm.

Also, as a side note, I have absolutely no patience for little boys with big egos. Don't think I haven't got my guard up. And don't think that I don't know exactly how to handle people like you. Ooh, cryptic!

As of Friday I shall be adventuring around the country. And it's about time: I've left it far too long this time. Any Place But Here - though I tend to feel like that if I'm anywhere for more than a couple of months. I need a job where I can travel the world. What a shame I'm so rubbish with languages!

Something to ponder on this week is a quote from Steven King's Pet Cemetery: 'the soil of a man's heart is stonier'. I tend to agree, but not in a bitter feminist way. It isn't necessarily a bad thing. Maybe it's more to do with having more solid ground to walk over in today's society. Or maybe it refers to men having a different kind of strength to that of women.

You don't get any pictures today because you've all been bad. BAD! Go to your rooms.

*I'd just like to point out that that doesn't mean I want to be kidnapped. So don't go getting any ideas.

'They'll tell you black is really white, the moon is just the sun at night, and when you walk in golden halls you get to keep the gold that falls'

Having been out of the house working almost solidly for the best part of two days, I've been trying to relax since I got home. And what has finally made me relax, you say? Well, I shall tell you. I sat at the piano and I played it. When I can't get to my beautiful piano for a few days, life seems different somehow...

It's a good job I can have music on when I'm doing things in the office at work, or I really would be the most depressed person you could ever meet. It really is like a drug. The best fucking drug in the world, man. A couple of hours without it and I'm hungry.

'Seek the core, the unique, the outstanding - shun the worthless and the mediocre.'

- Frost (from Satyricon and 1349)

'It's something I have to do, I was there too: before everything else, I was like you.'

'They tell us Rock'n'roll is the devil's music. Well, let's say we know that rock is the devil's music, and we know that it is, for sure … At least he fuckin' jams! If it's a choice between eternal Hell and good tunes, and eternal Heaven and New Kids on the Block … I'm gonna be surfin' on the lake of fire, rockin' out.' - Bill Hicks

Roll up, roll up! The time has come for another tedious list of things I've done over the last couple of weeks!

Joanna has:

...had too much to drink at work Christmas outings. My blue hair was the shizzle though.

...enjoyed time watching Ma'anit bake everyone Christmas goodies and drinking Bailey's coffee with Liat who came out with the quote of the day...nay, week...when she randomly started chuckling to herself and said 'Ma'anit, if you had your own chocolate factory, you'd be Willy Wanker!'

...officially broken two laptops in the space of six months. Luckily, my friend Zachary is a blinkin' genie-arse and is constantly operating on my poor computers. Thank-you Doctor ZacharyradiatorfaceCathedralpantsMcGinty the third Esquire! Yeah...if you don't know my friends and me then that will mean nothing to you. Still, a bit of mystery is good for the soul: don't say I never do anything for all you lovely readers our there!

...watched 'The Devil's Music'. What a bloody fantastic piece of work that was! Erica Spawn is such a compelling character, one couldn't help but become captivated with her and the story surrounding her. The documentary format may well have been done plenty of times but they made it work brilliantly. Some of the acting was a bit 'iffy' but the main actors had their parts down to an art and, just like all the classic films in the spooky genre (yes, that is now an official genre. Promise) there was an element of humour weaved into the entire thing. The film was sexy, atmospheric, and extremely watchable. I think one of the things I enjoyed most about it was that the characters were just like lots of real people I know. Very good, yes yes.

Phwoar!

...had well-needed family time. Time spent with my nephews and nephette is like water when my heart is running dry.

...been visited by the wonderful Jo and her crazy kids. We stayed in a hotel and bothered the receptionists with stupid questions and constant requests for more tea-bags and milk. Good times, as all the kids seem to be saying these days. You need your confidence back Jo, and I know you can do it. Those kids have a wild spirit like you do and that is no bad thing. I'm here with you every step of the way.

...started to hear the nickname Calamity even from people I work for now. I went to the house of someone I give support to (for those of you who are unaware, I'm a support worker for people with learning disabilities...but if you didn't already know that you're clearly not stalking me very well so far) the other day and, in the space of four and a half hours, managed to pull one of his curtains/blinds down, knock a picture off the wall, and I pulled a chair over with my bag on the way out. Doh! Also, while I was there, I cut my finger on a pair of safety scissors. I'm beginning to think it's me who needs support with my daily living...

Life is like the snow: the more of it there is, the harder it is to manage; the more that comes down on you, the harder it is to walk in and wade through. But, by the gods, it's beautiful.