Looper, Lars and not many laughs

I seem to be having one of those weeks where it's super-busy to the point of insanity but then there's a total slump afterwards where my body refuses to keep up the momentum and relentlessness any longer. I also seem to be observing odd little things as I have wound my way throughout the week. First of all, I sort of reached a milestone with a professional project this week, so I decided to sneakily celebrate it by going out to the cinema with the cowboy. Except I didn't tell him that it was my way of celebrating my achievement because when I'd mentioned the completed work to him earlier he just said, "yeah, but you've been doing that for ages and I don't even see the point of it". So it was my own way of marking the milestone, giving him an opportunity to have an evening out which he needed too and just try to enjoy doing something fun together for once. 

We went and watched the film, "Looper", which stars Emily Blunt and Bruce Willis (looking somewhat shockingly old) and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who I hadn't come across before. Emily Blunt was great and performed with a really convincing Southern-ish US accent without sounding OTT and her character's bravado made me laugh. It was one of those time-travel themed sci-fi films which get hard to follow because you spend half the time thinking, "so did that happen in the past and now they're trying to go back and correct it? And if so, why are they bothering to go back to the present..." and you end up giving up because it's, frankly, not worth the hassle because you miss the next part of the film if you sit there trying to figure it out. Which they kind of made a joke about in the film anyway, perhaps to appease the audience who would by then be getting a bit lost. I still think it was worth seeing, even though it was kind of depressing. And Jeff Daniels was a hoot as the ruthless boss/chief character just by being so unnervingly unpredictable. So it was kind of worth it for his scenes alone.

Afterwards, we wandered around like lost sheep trying to find our way out of the shopping centre, where the cinema is located (following the impossible trail of escalators that don't run all in one line down, so you keep having to walk out of your way and come across more random shops in order to find the exit) and we came upon a small supermarket (called 'Albert' - no, seriously) and realised we were out of bread and milk so we should at least pick up those things. And that's when I came across the "Duff" beer that I've seen out in stalls in the centre of town but saw for the first time in a shopping centre. 

I don't know who decided to give that a go and how they got permission from the Simpsons to do it, but there were not only cans of it but bottles too. 

Which then sparked a mini 'supermarket photos frenzy' (Czech soups - including Goulash soup)

and 'Lentilky' (the Czech kind of Smarties)

and the cowboy remarked how this kind of behaviour could get me arrested. Well, it could have in the US. Sadly, no-one batted an eyelid here.

And the rest of the week has been a mad rush of meetings and an entrepreneurial conference online, making videos for music-y things and trying to keep up with admin. Until this afternoon/evening when I decided to watch three films back to back because the cowboy is at his brother's and I have several films I've wanted to see for ages but couldn't because I never have the time or the cowboy wouldn't be interested in that kind of film. So I watched an old one for comfort-viewing which was just a cheesy chick flick but with Joan Cusack being utterly brilliant in it, which is so typical for her that I know that that doesn't narrow it down for you... Then I watched 'Salt' (as the cowboy would normally like this kind of film but he hates Angelina Jolie for some reason, enough that he won't watch a film with her in) and found it very entertaining but with an annoyingly open-ended and 'unfinished' kind of ending. Followed by, 'Lars and the Real Girl', which just made me cry even though the premise is so ridiculous (and the doll looked strangely like Angelina Jolie infact..!) but the underlying feelings of the characters are so sad and yet so caring. I don't know why it made me cry so much. Maybe it was the sense of everyone going out of their way to be kind to this guy who was obviously in a huge amount of pain. It's so unusual. And that in itself is sad. 

But Ryan Gosling blinks a lot, don't you think? I've only seen him in this, one other film I've already forgotten the name of, and 'Fracture', and he blinks a lot in all of them. Maybe that's what makes him so endearing. It certainly helped him seem more of a nutcase in this film. (Maybe nutcase is too harsh. I catch myself calling myself a nutcase from time to time, but I think that's just my Mum's voice infiltrating my brain again, as it sometimes does.) And in the middle of all that, I got a lovely email from a friend saying how artistically fashionable and gorgeous I looked today, which was not only super-lovely, but also surprising because it was one of those, 'hardly anything left to wear because there are piles of washing to do' days and I'd worn my greeny-blue jeans, my cookie monster t-shirt and a couple of cardigans (it was cold) and I thought I looked so scruffy, I'd better do my best to compensate by wearing (fake) pearls, chunky glass-gem-looking earrings and pale pink/purple lipstick. I thought I probably looked like some kind of freak. But maybe that's just 'artistically fashionable' seen from a different perspective. I guess only the likes of I-D, Dazed and Confused and NYLON magazine would know about that. And I'm probably too old for their demographics anyway. Who knows.

I feel so frustrated today that so much effort has gone in to achieving what feels like so little. I can't even finish recording the two songs I want to finish before Christmas without difficulties of organising time with the guy I know here who has a studio (well, is moving to a new one actually, so currently only has a home studio) and organising time to practise. The cowboy is very concerned with how thin the walls are here in this council-flat like place and doesn't want me to sing or play aloud in the evenings, so I have to try to fit it in around meetings and so on during the daytime. Which hopefully will get easier to do soon, once I've done enough on the videos I've been doing. But doing any recording here seems just out of the question. Even for something fun and simple like recording a cover song on the keyboard with just that and vocals.

I think I'm rambling too much now, so I'd better get to bed. Goodnight readers, wherever you are.

Single Person Behaviour (Part Deux)

I'm so thrilled at having this time to myself I can't get over how wonderful it is!  I therefore had to create a second part to my previous post. I had a somewhat unfortunate start to the day in that I was woken up by period pain, even though that shouldn't be happening for at least another 5 days so I had to take some painkillers right away but that kind of gave me a good excuse to have a longer lie-in as compensation. Snuggling up with a hot water bottle always feels cosy even when the reason for making a hot water bottle was the pain that came unexpectedly. I am so lucky that I kept a good lot of magazines out and in bags instead of boxes because that means I've been able to plaster the bed with them and browse, read and lounge about looking at pictures avidly. I'm feeling a bit mournful about all the lovely old copies of Vogue I had to get rid of before I even moved to this country though because I had some great ones, mostly bought for half-price at the second-hand exchange bookshop on Notting Hill on Pembridge Road. Oh how I miss that shop...But I did keep a whole bunch of pages from my favourite editions including a few Paris Vogues, and I'm glad I've had a chance to look through those. Nothing like covering the bed with fashion pictures and mini-articles (zoom in on the middle left of the photo) on people like Daniel Auteuil.

I have also continued my practising of new make-up techniques after educating myself that it's not entirely about the make-up you buy but how you use it, thanks to this Lisa Eldridge video in particular. But I amazingly found that I already had one of the lipsticks she mentioned - the 'New Black' no17 one! Which is exactly the dark shade I most wanted - yay! I vainly took a few pictures of myself (how shameful is that?) using PhotoBooth on my Mac (Macs are just so brilliantly full of useful and totally free software!) sporting that very dark red/mauve lipstick. This is where it gets tricky to remain anonymous and show the fruits of my labour...

(Well, it wasn't exactly labour. There are tonnes of other things I've done that are far more creative and took wayyy more work but that I really can't share here as it would indeed be too much of a giveaway. Though I'm pretty sure at this stage the only people reading this are people who know me anyway. (Leave a comment and prove me wrong if that's not the case!) 

I enjoyed my lie-in today and I made a terribly unhealthy cooked breakfast (but not exactly a totally English cooked breakfast) of eggs, baked beans, mushrooms and Czech spicy sausages, with a mug of coffee. It was rather yummy. And I can't tell you how delightful it was to realise there's so much less washing up to do even after making something as messy as a cooked breakfast when there's only one person's washing up to do! Wow - it only took about 15 minutes!

The other thing I have been doing is trying for the life of me to come up with a good present for my sister's birthday. It's the big 'three - oh' and I want to get her something special, but anything good and something I'd feel pleased as punch to get her is out of my price range and is something I've failed to get for myself and yet have always wanted. Such as a proper silk camisole or chemise like this or a sumptuously sparkly handbag like this. I sometimes wonder if I'll ever be able to a) make her proud of me that I can actually afford to buy her something really special for once and b) if I'll ever be able to have any of these things myself. I suppose while even copies of Vogue are out of my price range, I have an amazon wishlist that I still can't even afford to get any of, and I've declined to buy ice-cream this weekend because I couldn't afford that as well as a bottle of wine and salmon, I can safely assume the answer may well be 'no'. I really want to turn this around. My sister deserves some luxury for once.

She is the epitome of the brilliant bargain-hunter where I aspire to be more Parisian and spend a lot on something that will truly last and do me well for being better quality (but usually I can only manage this by buying it when it's already 10 years old from a charity shop) so she has a revolving list of items in her wardrobe that she gets rid of on a regular basis because she buys from Primark, H&M and Kohls. She's got it down to a fine art to get my Mum or Dad to buy things for her while she's seen that they're on sale and has built up a remarkable range of clothes on this basis. I just wish I could treat her to something she would never want to replace.

Heigh-ho. Time for some more old pages from Vogue perusing (and in this pile is one of the pages of photos that inspired my main music pic for social media and google use for my music work at the moment. I had such fun working with the Russian Countess on that shoot - I wonder if you can guess which one...)

and a huge amount of denial about the fact that tomorrow the Cowboy is coming back and tonight I have to deal with a meet-ee on Skype and that that damned expensive festivity - Christmas - is not far off and I'm possibly more broke than when I first started out as a student. I'll find a way to get through it somehow but I just wish I could at least be doing it all on my own, in a flat of my own, with my keyboard set-up in a space befitting it and enough money to buy myself at least one treat, if nothing else, as a means of celebrating getting so much done on my websites all by myself from working out stuff from free training videos.

Single Person Behaviour Night - Yay!

I finally have a weekend to myself. An evening to indulge in 'single-person behaviour', which couldn't have come at a better time. I've had such a strange week. I got dragged into a series of strange interviews with a language school-cum-consulting company whereby I couldn't tell how they separated the two and it took hours to understand even the beginnings of the aims of the company because the person explaining it to me spoke English as his fourth language and it was rather hard to interpret at times. I had to do a 'test' of phoning the Director of Sales of the Four Seasons hotel here in Prague and get him to agree to a meeting at the hotel about how we could send him some clients. Except it was based on the premise of a business card for a less than luxurious German travel agency that this guy at the language school/consultancy company had the business card of. It was all so confusing and pointless and seemed like merely an exercise in blagging. Which I loathe.

As it turned out, I got paid £10 for successfully arranging the meeting (and therefore 'passing the test') then I tried to negotiate a fair rate (£11.53 an hour instead of £6) for the work going ahead and in the end got turned down because the guy at the Four Seasons (rightly) cancelled our meeting on the basis that he really didn't think we were in a position to offer him clients appropriate for the standard/price of the hotel. So I didn't get the job. And I can tell you, I am SO relieved. I did learn a lot about how I CAN negotiate afterall (well, at least, when I know I'm in a strong position - I mean how many other Brits in Prague can speak Czech to intermediate level, French to advanced level [at least on a good, 'brushed-up' day] and understand German and even a bit of Spanish?) and I know how to prepare myself for setting my limits. I carefully calculated that the number of hours he was proposing amounted to half my working hours in a week overall and that therefore, I could not actually live on £6 an hour for the work. Simple. 

In other news, I got through ex-partner's birthday for another year, having sent him a little card and sent a text message on the day. It feels so strange. So odd to realise I haven't actually spoken to him in a year or so. In the meantime, the cowboy is still finding it amusing to torture and judge me about this former relationship because he's not mature enough to let bygones be bygones and accept that he can't really understand how something may have felt for another person. (Having recently got a new meet-ee who's a teenager and whose Dad set up the meetings, the cowboy thought it appropriate to ask about the Dad as soon as I mentioned him, making a sexually suggestive face. I told him this was unacceptable, but the cowboy disagreed with me on that.) So I am more determined than ever that I deserve to be with an adult man, just like any other adult woman is, and I would very much like to be able to move out and be on my own to enable that as soon as possible. The cowboy knows that we are not compatible in the long term, as for some strange reason he really wants children (and I certainly do not want two in one go, i.e an infant and a baby I actually gave birth to, too) but he is incapable of handling that information in a rational way and sits and sulks about it instead, saying things like, "I'm not talking to you, because you don't love me".

So life goes on as usual. I have made professional progress in the form of updating one of my websites, contacting another casting agency with whom I shall register properly on Monday, making a video to go with one of the aims of one of my websites, and contacting a couple of music producers, one of whom seems interested in knowing more about my music. Sadly, he wants some chord charts that I either don't have and will have to set up my keyboard here, where there's not really room for it, to work out, or that I do have already but are in a box in amongst other boxes in a cupboard. (Have I mentioned I don't want to live like this?) Oh and I spoke to my sister about ordering some things from the UK, one for a Christmas pressie for the cowboy, and the rest for me, but she'd already bought a bunch of things I sort of needed, meaning I have less budget left for what I really wanted and was going to sacrifice the 'needed' things for, out of sheer urgency in cheering myself up more, so I have to strike a few things off the list. (Because, much as I really didn't want that consulting job, I really needed the goddamned money of course...)

So, for tonight, by way of compensation, the cowboy has gone to the flat in the mountains and I have bought myself some salmon and cooked it with new potatoes, broccoli and mushrooms and have been sipping rosé wine from Australia from a year prior to losing my ex-partner (here's where I am pathetic) because it was one of the few decent rosé wines in the supermarket here in the back-of-beyond that is this Prague 4 suburb, and I've been watching old SATC videos, reminding myself of a time when my former flatmate, the now super-famous pop star in Denmark, used to sit on my sofa and watch them too and sob because her producer at the time was being a total asshole to her. You know what? I am so glad that she escaped and made it. She bloody deserved it. And I love how much better pop songs sound in Danish. It's almost faerie-like. (Even though the Swedes think the Danes sound like they're speaking with a potato in their mouths.) And it works as a good subterfuge, so that I don't notice that lyrics like, "when time goes backwards, I will love you again and again and again" sound a teensy bit naff. But maybe that's just my own aversion to lyrics about love. I just don't believe in them. It's just too "icky". I really can't explain why.