Hang on a second, I'm applying for a job.

Right. And now I'm just waiting for one of my managers on Facebook chat to give me a reference.

I are professional.

Furthermore, message to a manager on Facebook goes as follows:

---

Nicole Smith, where HAVE you been?!

No idea. Just not blogging.

This weekend I went to see Rach for her birthday and ate a massive meal followed by delicious cake followed by a chocolate fountain and... so... much... food... that I'm still dying a little. But I don't have any pictures because my camera is dead. RIP, buddy.

Not much has been happening around here. I've been expanding my musical horizons which is actually a code for Spending All My Money That I Haven't Got Yet Buying Opeth Albums And Such.

Rawr.

Anyhow. I still don't have much to write about, as you can see.

Overly complicated.

Working the lights.

New hair.

What do we think?

I went to get it cut and it was a TOTAL disaster so I had a panic attack or two and then went to the supermarket and stocked up on hair dye.

Fuck yeah, red hair.

Sonisphere is in two days and I'm not exactly prepared. The tent is bought but hasn't been set up yet, I've got all the hygiene-stuffs I could ever need, I've stocked up on medicine. I haven't sorted out how I'm getting back yet and I still need to confirm how I'm getting there but once again, my dad is off-site.

GAAAAH.

See you when I get back, assuming I don't explode.

And for five glorious minutes, my bank balance was more than £1.

Today I bought my ticket for Sonisphere Festival.

Incase you haven't had the utter joy of hearing me rambling on about what is probably THE MOST INTENSE LINE-UP EVERRR, do feel free to take a peak here.

So, on top of Iggy Pop, Alice Cooper, Iron Maiden, Lacuna Coil, Placebo, Pendulum and forty or so other bands, Tim Min-fucking-chin (it had to go somewhere..) will also be there to make me giggle at inflatable dolls and distant wars and such.

Also I just noticed that Europe are playing and I'm 60% sure that they wrote The Final Countdown.

Crap. I've got that in my head now.

Also, you lost the game. Mwahaha.

"Complication, aggravation is getting to you."

Just one of the many products of being dragged up raised by a punk and a heavy-metal/hard rock bassist guy who looks like The Crow is that I have a hot, raw love for every aspect of music.

Last night it was Aerosmith.

I work to music, I live to music and there are probably endless hours of CCTV footage of me at work singing whilst handing over change, which is unfortunate because the music at work is usually rather shoddy, though it still makes me happy. Music doesn't have to be deemed 'good' for me to enjoy it. I have easy ears.

Anyhoo, last night I was working away on my film studies coursework and I started typing up a storm to "Love In An Elevator" by Aerosmith. I forgot about it, checked the word count and was staggered to see I was 200 words over the limit.



Then I deleted all the lyrics I'd typed and I was suddenly short of 500 words.

Balls.


So, despite that, here's a fabulous video of Aerosmith's Ragdoll because they gave me hours of procrastination last night. It's a totally awesome song and fabulous to play on Guitar Hero.

(Ignore the first ten seconds...)



Baby won't you do me like you done befooooore?

It's like Jimi Hendrix doing adverts for WHSmiths.*

* My dad's latest metaphor (simile?) for highly unlikely events. I think "Kurt Cobain speaking for the National Health Service" is better.

I was woken up at the back-end of 12 o'clock this morning because I had to suffer a bi-annual check-up at the dentists. It all went well, though as I was walking out I mentioned to my mum that my teeth must have recovered from the knock my face got in Tenerife.

Five seconds later I was back in the chair getting a damn x-ray, only to find that I'd cracked the root of my tooth (one of the back teeth. They have deep roots so you can imagine how hard I must have landed when I fell down the stairs in order to fracture that). Then the dentist started questioning how extensive the damage was on impact and I mentioned that I have no feeling in the left side of my face now. So now I'm paraleptic or paraplegic or something. I can't remember the exact term but it means that my face is partially paralysed, possibly with a cheekbone fracture thrown in with a certain case of extensive nerve damage.

Joy.

When it first happened I blamed Eric Northman from True Blood because that was all I could remember after I had a seizure but now I just like the idea of Alexander Skarsgård owing me a favour.

Om nom nom nom.

Is it me or does he look vaguely Kurt Cobain?

What is it about me and Kurt Cobain?

Why is he so awesome?

Anyway.

I've been referred to something like a maxio-facial-spatial-reconstructional clinic to get my face fixed or something. I spaced out when I saw someone with a pork pie walk past.

Eff to mince pies. Even if I have definitely been the one eating all the pies every this year, at least 70% of all pies have been pork-related. I had the most intense pork pie on my break at work today. It was the balls. It opened up a whole new world of happiness, starshine and rainbows for me.

So my dad picked up me and my spaggy face up from work and after perhaps a minute of listening to Christmas carols he decided that fission sounded better, and then went onto say that the guy on the radio used to be the greatest revolutionary socialist speaker in the UK and was now talking about train times in Derby. Like Jimi Hendrix doing adverts for WHSmiths. That's the great thing about my dad. He looks like The Crow and comes out with even more random witty crap than me.

His awesomeness does not end there. I'm feeling oddly purposeful now because I'm listening to this band called Anti-Product who are performing at The Duchess in a couple of weeks and I'm helping to do the lights again. My dad's got me a funky little set-up that involves seeing live bands all the time.

I am in flavour country right now.

Barry White + industrial metal = I win.

I'm not even remotely listening to Barry White right now.

Not even a tiny bit.

I may have had an awesome time at Mo-Balls' house last night, with much Shloer, nibbles and Anner-made risotto (it tasted like Jesus). I may have watched Bridget Jones: The Edge Of Reason and then the final episodes of The Vicar Of Dibley (judge not... it's spectacular) before crashing on the floor.

I may have gotten paid and went wild in the Borders 90% off sale (so gutted it's closing) before trying on tons of clothes that didn't fit, went on a bender in HMV and came out with the following after deciding at the very last minute not to buy the Buffy The Vampire Slayer soundtrack (don't ask):

- Bridget Jones' Diary soundtrack
- Bridget Jones' Diary second soundtrack
- Bridget Jones: The Edge Of Reason soundtrack
- Love Actually soundtrack

Christmas rom-coms are the shit, make no mistake there.

Anyhoodle. I'd been listening to combos of Jamie Cullum, Amy Winehouse, Barry White and The Darkness all day and THEN I was thrown into The Duchess to see my one of my dad's bands (currently sitting at no. 20 in the Amazon UK singles chart) which just happens to be an industrial metal-ish affair. The urge to headbang was actually crippling. At one point I ended up working the lights and lit some of the show pretty nicely. I have never been so nervous about fucking up. Apparently I'm going to be lighting more shows from now on. Heaven help us all.

And I've just discovered that the Love Actually soundtrack has the Billy Mack (Bill Nighy) version of Christmas Is All Around.

This is going to be a very good Christmas. Hahaha...

"Fist in the air in the land of hypocrisy"

Rage Against The Machine have officially won the top spot on the Christmas singles in the UK.

Huzzah! The music charts haven't been spoon fed sappy pop ballads created by talentless televised talent contests (I hate The X Factor with a fiery passion) for once.

I spent most of the day at my brother's house today. I've discovered many things... the top four artists this Christmas (Peter Kay - hahaha -, Lady Gaga, JoeFromTheXFactor, Rage Against The Machine), just how vile drinking lager, tea and Shloer at the same time is, and also the fact that- FUCK, I left that book at my brother's again. Shee-ite.

I also made a list of my top five favourite songs this month, I know you-all are just DYING to find out...

1. Don't Fear The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

2. Breed - Nirvana

3. Rev 22.20 - Puscifer

4. Empire - Queensrÿche

5. The Cross - Within Temptation (Rachey'll love that)

Happy Sunday, whatever's left of it.

Danger! Danger! High voltage!

Ahh! Amazing night. This is actually a terrible month to capture the boring-ness of my life because I've seen seven bands live this week. Most recently was Electric Six, you know, of 'Gay Bar' fame.



That one.

I'm suffering something FIERCE though because I was at sixth form this morning, work in the evening (bought Harry Potter 6 for £6.73 - the economic *wet noise* just got tastier) and then down at The Duchess for the rest of the night.

Anyhoodle, it's four minutes to midnight and I'm lying in bed with my fabulous signed set list from tonight stuck up on my wall looking lovely.

And tomorrow I promise I'll tell you about how me and my mum took the absolute piss out of my sister when she came in bullshitting and it backfired hugely. It's ace.

Which reminds me, I learnt to play poker today. I won £18 (fake money, sadly) and Simon's left foot before losing EVERYTHING.

But for now I'm tired and midnight it approaching... So I'll be back at a better-looking hour.

Room to breathe.

This space is reserved for when I get out of the shower.

---

Right, back. And I'm making my own rules up so I definitely published this post before midnight.

I'm right. Shut up.

I'll have to keep it sweet because it's now nearly half past twelve and I've still got this bee-ee-ay-utiful essay to do on the sociological explanations of family diversity and shit, so I'm on borrowed time tonight.

Right: Friday, I went to The Duchess and had the most awesome night watching Parade and Josh & Co. which was a great start to the weekend. Had a few sentimental moments but we've already been there.

I spent Saturday morning working and I finally learnt to use the tills in the store so I'm fully trained and everything which is cool. Had a few problems with customers, one wanted to complain because the camera she'd bought was full of suck and didn't work at all and she wanted us to take it apart and find the problem and I was like "Lady, I don't work for Toshiba" but of course I didn't say that because then my butt would be OUT of that job faster than a bat from hell, so yeah.

Saturday night: Mostly Autumn. I see them every year and I love it every time. I had an episode after where I was trying to find my dad, talked my way backstage, ran around the damn venue looking for him, couldn't find him, left, walked home and then got a call saying "Were you looking for me? I was hiding behind a van because I kept getting mobbed but I thought I saw you go past." and it was all very complicated. Practically fell into bed and enjoyed my first lie in in two weeks the next morning.

Felt like CRAP on Sunday. Went shopping whilst hating everything and everyone, unable to stand up or focus, dizzy, slightly sick, craving sausage casserole (that was shortly rectified) before heading to my grandma's where she insisted on showing me this EPIC bruise on her butt/down her leg from where she went to sit down on her bed in the dark and missed by miles. Ouch.

And then finally I tottered (Literally. High, high heels and cobbled streets. Why does this keep happening to me? Why?) down to The Duchess and saw everyone for the third day running (we all go to the same shows... Gives me a twinge of nostalgia) before being flooded by drinks and "OH MY GOD is that you Nicole?" and "Remember me? We did an album together when you were seven." (no shit) and general awesome things. The show started with the support, two people I've known for a while, Anne-Marie Helder and Chris Johnson doing their thaang and then Breathing Space came on and put the cherry on top of the proverbial cake-ish weekend.

The band finished and everyone was screaming for more... The band came back and dedicated the song to the singer's mother (the singer's father died last year. He was great, we all knew him) and sang this ah-may-zing song. It was winding up to an explosive end when...

The whole bar was plunged into darkness. My dad was on lights so I assumed perhaps it was intentional. And then the fire alarm sounded. The damn smoke machine was too dense. We all started clapping and laughing. It was a fantastic way to end the night, and the weekend.

And now back to my normal, boring life.

Except I'm seeing Electric Six on Wednesday, just on a whim.

I really should count myself lucky. Because I know all these people I've been to three shows this weekend, had numerous drinks and snacks and stuff and spent absolutely nothing.

So here's a shout out to everyone who's been lovely, funny and rock-y all weekend with me. I love you all and I'll see you next year.

Reaching out and giving in.

Everyone take a deep breath, this probably won't make sense unless you are me, and I don't think you are. (Or are you...?)

Over the summer my parents came to blows because my mum found out that my dad had been seeing someone else. Sucks big time, right? I suppose so. I'll admit there were a few days weeks where I'd lie in bed listening to mum crying, or mum shouting, or my sister working herself up into a state, and by the end of it all I was left holding everything together.

This makes me very bitter.

I've always been oddly detached from my family. I don't really know my dad (I'm 90% sure he's awesome) despite living with him all my life, I don't get along with my sister by any stretch of the imagination and I spend half of my time arguing with my mum. I spend a lot of time shut away in my room. I don't mind it, particularly because it means that when my parents did split, or whatever they did, I felt like it didn't affect me. I was just holding up for someone else whilst they got back on their feet.

I had actually suspected that my dad was doing the dirty with this women. I can't remember why because that was all pre-Tenerife and I lost all that memory when I got amnesia but I remember suspecting it. And then I turned out to be right.

This women, I should point out, is great. She's gorgeous and lovely and funny and friendly and cuddly and also an amazing singer. I don't want to hate her because she's so amazing, and I thought so before it turned out she was sleeping with my dad. But I've always felt conflicted because when Hooker found out that his dad was sleeping with someone else, he hated his dad and stuck by his mum, and hates the women his dad went off with even more. Every other case I've heard has a similar result.

But I don't feel anything. Nothing close to that.

I'm a little frustrated that my mum has been cheated by a guy she's been with for 20 years, but I don't feel for that anywhere near enough.

Last night I was at one of the better venues in York watching a friend's band (I've grown up around the York music scene, I know everyone) and I saw tons of people I know from different bands and the fans of different bands that I see at all the gigs and conventions. I love this time of year where the bands and fans come home and play Christmas shows, because we all get together and make a weekend of it, as we are this weekend.

I was stood on the platform by the lighting decks watching the band when I saw her. I was stupidly interested in what she was doing and just watched her going around hugging people and dancing. A tiny, melodramatic voice in the back of my head was saying "She's the one that broke your home. She split your parents up." but like I said, it just seemed melodramatic. I wanted her to see me, I wanted her to recognise me and look nervous so I could tell her it's okay and buy her a drink, because for some stupid reason I'm the one that feels guilty.

What's wrong with me?

I should've be angry. I should've shoved her and screamed and shouted and thrown my drink at her. I should have been hysterical. Instead I smiled at her and watched her dance with a plump old lady to the last song. I danced along with her from the platform, laughing as people started to join in.

It's the kind of thing that makes me feel defective. Am I a terrible daughter or a compassionate being? I can't explain myself.

And I don't try to. When I get home I look at my mum, asleep in my sister's room, and go to lock up, wondering where my dad is. This is my lot and despite my complaints, I deal with it.

I started this post thinking that I'd give this woman a pardon and hope that she didn't let me down, but now I don't know where I stand.

And I forget just why I taste -
Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard, it was hard to find
Oh well, whatever, nevermind

I don't want a lot of Christmas... no, really. I mean it this time.

Christmas is going to be gluuum this year. I spend most of my work hours around awesome things like stacks and stacks of shiny toys and games and TVs and consoles and.. umm... full body waxing kits and I give customers all these fabulous things and I know that they are going to have a massively better Christmas than me because even with my staff discount, I can't afford squat.

Bah humbug, all I do around Christmas is worry about money and torment my brother, but even he is going to Paris this Christmas, the bastard.

Anyhoo, in the interest of saving money (I have £20 to buy presents for all my friends and family this year - fail) this is what I want for Christmas:

- Word of the day calendar: because seriously, those things are awesome and Our Lord Archer is forever telling me to expand my vocabulary because I'm working class and I can't let the middle class win by out-smarting me or something.

- Awesome keyring: My keys are currently the nosiest set of keys ever, with a digital photo frame, two keys, two huge Nightwish keyrings and a USB stick. The colour is all wrong. I want a REALLY BRIGHT KEYRING.

- More photo frames: I have this amazing five-panel one that Lemon got me for my birthday and now that it's filled with pictures of me, Anner, Mo-Balls, Lemon and Hooker (alternative name for BFF Main Gay.5) it sits around on my shelf and winks awesomeness at me.

- The Resistance by Muse: I've been waiting to be able to afford this album for three months = TOO LONG.

- Lots of AAA batteries: My MP3 player chews through these in minutes.

- A deck of cards: I'm forever borrowing other people's cards.

Bonus: The strength to withstand my ASSHOLE SISTER for another year.

No worries, I think she might get better with time.

Anyhoo, I have to go to my primary school's Christmas fair before heading down to The Duchess for muchos music and drink, so I'll be off now.

Happy Friday, peeps!

Situations in which I like to blast my music:

Oh... What am I saying?

Situations in which I love to blast my music:

- In the ENT department (Ear, Nose and Throat) of York hospital, where they either can't hear you, can't speak to complain or can't talk without sounding like Gonzo from The Muppet Show.

-At the dentists, preferably when in the chair, so at least you can't hear the drill.

- When walking through one of the big parking lots around York where it echoes so it's like a cheap surround sound system. I should so just get a parking lot in my bedroom.

- When babysitting. Nothing like corrupting youthful minds to get your own back on their parents...

- When my sister's trying to watch TV. What? She doesn't do me any favours.


- Lunchtimes in Fulford Youth Centre, sat on the floor behind the pool and football tables.

- Hip Hop with JJ in the school quad when we're trying to put off doing some last-minute work before the exams. ("Oh God that was good." "Yeah we should totally just listen to that again some time.")

- Long car journeys, make them l-o-n-g-e-r I say!

... But my favourite one of all has to be listening to Eminem in the supermarket. There's nothing like walking around with a weird grin on your face because Eminem just recommended that we all "shove a gerbil in your ass through a tube".

Good going, man.

Sing along and it might just get you thru'

So a few weeks ago I saw this post over Random Ramblings About My Crazy Life (Read it... Read it... Read it...) and I got thinking. I really love music. There's always a song for each day and one I'll always especially relate to one particular song at any given moment. Lately I've been spending a ton of time at home and it's been getting warmer, so when you're sat out on a balcony watching the street coming to life you start to notice things... Things like how the police hang around here a bit more, and then everyone seems a bit shady, and everythings grey and the language is multicoloured and finally that the majority of people in my area don't speak English. It's a really strange place. My brother's been mugged twice, one of my neighbours is a drug dealer, there is a woman who sits on the corner of the street for hours on end, and a couple of years ago my dad found someone dead outside the pub (natural causes I assure you... Perhaps brought on prematurely by excessive booze).



But I like it here. Its little quirks make me smile. The loud, insane cashiers at the local shop make me laugh at whatever obscene hour of the morning I wonder down there. Even the stupid chav-like people tickle my ego just by being dumb dipshits to the point that I feel top of the class. The petty criminals add character to what would have been just another council dumping ground.

So, to all these little things, I say ta. And offer them the wonder that is Pulp.

Common People

She came from Greece, she had a thirst for knowledge
She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College
That's where I caught her eye.
She told me that her Dad was loaded
I said in that case I'll have a rum and coke-cola.
She said fine and in thirty seconds time she said,

I want to live like common people
I want to do whatever common people do,
I want to sleep with common people
I want to sleep with common people like you.
Well what else could I do - I said I'll see what I can do.

I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why but I had to start it somewhere, so it started there.
I said pretend you've got no money,
She just laughed and said oh you're so funny.
I said yeah? Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here.

Are you sure you want to live like common people
You want to see whatever common people see
You want to sleep with common people,
You want to sleep with common people like me.
But she didn't understand, she just smiled and held my hand.

Rent a flat above a shop, cut your hair and get a job.
Smoke some fags and play some pool,
Pretend you never went to school.
But still you'll never get it right
'Cos when you're laid in bed at night
Watching roaches climb the wall
If you call your Dad he could stop it all.

You'll never live like common people
You'll never do what common people do
You'll never fail like common people
And dance and drink and screw
Because there's nothing else to do.

Sing along with the common people,
Sing along and it might just get you thru'
Laugh along with the common people
Laugh along even though they're laughing at you
And the stupid things that you do.
Because you think that poor is cool.

Like a dog lying in a corner
They will bite you and never warn you
Look out
They'll tear your insides out
'Cos everybody hates a tourist
Especially one who thinks
It's all such a laugh
Yeah and the chip stain's grease
Will come out in the bath

You will never understand
How it feels to live your life
With no meaning or control
And with nowhere left to go
You are amazed that they exist
And they burn so bright
Whilst you can only wonder why

Rent a flat above a shop
Cut your hair and get a job
Smoke some fags and play some pool
Pretend you never went to school
But still you'll never get it right
'Cause when you're laid in bed at night
Watching roaches climb the wall
If you called your dad he could stop it all
Yeah

I want to live with common people
I want to live with common people
I want to live with common people
I want to live with common people

I want to live with common people like you
I want to live with common people like you
I want to live with common people like you
I want to live with common people like you