23 Sep 2010

SO busy

Lady readers, Darlings, apologies for my slack posting. I have been so busy working on my BOOK(!) A Year Off the Ward and culturing this season's batch of lovely psychedelic Morning Glory seeds (tee hee, don't tell my mental health case worker Lauren, she'd be furious as they'd *probably* send me back into a psycho-neurotic hell-hole, but who frankly cares?) that I've had little time to update my beloved blog. SO, a quick run down of activities, diary style.

Late August.
I attend Climate Camp, or The Camp for Climate Action, Edinburgh. Don't worry, I didn't get up to too much mischief - not! I attended some fascinating debates on the future of the green movement (it's looking very ropey, everyone is so obsessed with fixing our pointless economy that they've stopped worrying about the planet. Economy - planet = death of everyone (only we go and live in space or something, which, let's face it, would be awful. I can't even watch Star Wars, (which is a very accessible film) because it looks like 'space' (you know, grey walls, electronic panels, little windows looking out onto stars: bleak!) How would I cope if ecological meltdown forced me to live in space? I'd basically just have to give killing myself a proper go for once, which would be a shame). Why can't the bankers understand that? Anyway, here's a picture of Melody, Lara and I protesting with our new friend Rowan outside Gogarburn, the RBS' devious rural headquarters. Don't the police just look hilarious?

Even later August

I return to London. Emergency meeting with my agent Olivia Bloomsdale-Corfu. She tells me to get my bloody useless act together and get the book finished. My mind is in meltdown! I've never had to work before, not properly, this is beginning to seem like all too much.

Early September

I jet off for a week to sunny La Rochelle. I eat beef carpaccio with delicious tomato and basil ice cream. Resolve to buy an ice cream machine on my return and try out some exciting flavours. Garlic? Sorrel? Yum!


Olivia is back on my tail. The deadline fast approaches. I feel another breakdown coming on. I notice this article in last month's Guardian, on women in the workplace, and how they're too shy to ask for a pay rise. How ridiculous! I had no idea (having never worked) - is Olivia ripping me off? Should I ask for an advance? It would certainly inspire me to get going on the book...

This week

London Fashion Week! I rediscover HATS! Resolve to buy this season's entire collection of Hedonist Millinery. Winter 2010 is all about HATS!

I also Easyjetted up to Edinburgh for the launch of this lovely little magazine, Scree, edited by Lila Matsumoto. A review of the night is here by the lovely Colin Herd, there were ambient sounds provided by glitchy bloop darlings Conquering Animal Sound, shoegazing electromaestro Dead Leaves, the formidable Lamplighter and heartbreaking, wild-fen crying Illiop, which made me feel like the heroine in an Icelandic remake of Wuthering Heights, a feeling to which, you may imagine, I am quite, quite partial. Poetry was provided by ME, also nick-e melville, a cool political concrete poet who gave me a copy of his book and a hug - I like him, & I urge you to find his book. Francis Crot charmed the crowd as ever, but honestly he's such a wonderful and unpredictable performer he could basically just read us sections of last month's G2 at random and we'd be like "Oh how clever, ha ha ha!" He's that good.


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