Pick n Mix

I was dithering about what to write today. Whilst a fair amount has gone on and I've done stuff lately it's all quite bittty and, I reckon, wouldn't make for interesting reading. Then I thought that I didn't start this blog to make it interesting reading but that it was for me to write that was the point. Then I had to have a sit down as I was out last night with some lovely London bloggers and a visiting Australian, I mixed far too many drinks, stayed out far too late on a school night and enjoyed myself far too much. Actually, I don't think I could ever enjoy myself too much.

So. This post is going to consist of some random bits and pieces. Apologies if it makes no sense, follows no acceptable patterns or reason. I'm kinda hungover, which for me doesn't actually involve headaches or nausea but a vague and distant state of thought and being. Right now this feels like I'm using someone else's hands to type and I definitely have at least one of someone else's eyeballs in.

Random thingy no. 1

Here's a pic of the beautiful view I woke up to each morning in Wales where I spent the weekend with TOH and 10 of my friends.

Random thingy no. 2

Here's a pic of the wide, blissfully empty beach that we walked along for hours in Wales. My friends all happily incognito too.

Random thingy no. 3

Whilst listening to my iPod this afternoon on my way home from work I was considering why certain songs literally make me smile - I just can't help it. I have a playlist called "Smile" which I listen to to cheer myself up or just because I'm feeling perky.

Some songs make me smile because they remind me of something in particular - people, for example, or places. Some songs just make me smile because they're so damn good. This may be something that could warrant more discussion in a post devoted all to itself but my train of thought moved on to how certain senses bring back such powerful memories.

Here is a quick list of a memory that I associate with each sense.

Clove cigarettes - the smell of these instantly brings back memories of Western Australia, Perth in particular. I was in a new country - one that I'd been desperate to visit for many years - and I loved it.

Little Red Corvette - this song just reminds me of being young, with hair and actually enjoying being a youth! I don't understand why but the guitar solo is the bit that makes me grin my head off.

Fur - I love animals, I can't help it. Stroking dogs or cats reminds me of my dog, Blue. He was 18 years old when he died and I was away backpacking around the world. For months after I got home, eating a biscuit always had a sad, little ending as I always, ALWAYS gave the last corner of it to him. I felt bad finishing a whole biscuit to myself for ages.

Ribena - I don't actually like it any more but the tase of it still makes me feel like I'm about 5 years old. For some reason, when I was growing up, it always seemed like such a luxury. We weren't the poorest of families but we weren't rich either so I suppose mum and dad made sure that the essentials were always there. Ribena always tasted... forbidden almost, a guilty pleasure - hard when you're only 5!

The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert - Not just because it reminded me of Australia and our own van, Mitzi, but because it reminds me of when I saw it first here in London with my friends. The Prince Charles cinema had a drag show before the film and everyone dressed up. It followed on from their infamous Friday night screenings of the Rocky Horror show and Sing-along-a-Sound of Music. I was newly gay, new to London and absolutely loving it. I loved my friends and I couldn't believe that my life could be so brilliant. Watching it now still fills me with a little of that excitement. However, it's like drugs, it never ever feels as good as the first time and fades a little more each go.

My final words are to recommend a song to make you smile. It's brilliant, I defy anyone not to grin at some point during it. Wierdly it's about a shipwreck but it's kinda sea-shanty-like and totally jolly. Look it up if you've never heard it.

Lady of the Sea by Seth Lakeman