Monthly Archive for December, 2005

but the record company rosie//they just gave me a huge advance;

Published on December 30, 2005 in music. 15 Comments Tags: , , .

2005. Hopefully it’ll be remembered as The Year Charlotte Church Went Pop, and not The Year Lis Danced In The Limelight To The Kaiser Chiefs; The Year Of Sleater-Kinney at the Koko and not The Year Ryan Adams Cancelled Yet Another Tour.

How did it get so late?! I got a little bit distracted with this year-end’s mix CD – it’s somehow become a double album complete with crappy MS Paint artwork. You can find the cover art and tracklistings here or, if you trust me implicitly, download each CD as a zipped folder of MP3s and cover art directly below.

Volume 1: I Think I’ve Been Asleep Most Of My Life (aka The Pretty One)
Volume 2: Julia, We Don’t Live In The 60s (aka The Dance-y One)

Please let me know what you think!

As ever, there was hardly room for all the amazing music I discovered this year that wasn’t released in the timeframe needed for the mix CDs, so much love to My New Favourite Bands: The Weakerthans, Okkervil River, Kathleen Edwards, Of Montreal and Stars. I’m sure my support means the world to them.

It’s nearly four, Jules is on MSN and apparently we’re going shopping in the morning. Who wants to take bets on it?

I have no idea what 2006 will hold for me – maybe I’ll have seventeen kids and name them after girls in Bruce Springsteen songs (unlikely), maybe it’ll just be more of the same (hope not). One thing’s for sure – it’ll be the year I get my groove back, I swear it. Have a good one, kids.

bank of boston beauty queen;

Published on December 29, 2005 in a little more personal and aff the telly. 3 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , .

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN READING THIS BLOG THROUGH THE LJ FEED – sorry to be a pain, but you need to follow the link in each entry and comment directly on this site rather than the LJ post! I’ve been missing all those comments as I don’t get them emailed to me!


So, what did you get for Christmas then?

It’s been a quiet few days here – perhaps an anti-climatic Christmas if you believe the television commercials, but I’m just glad of the few days off work. Speaking of that though, there’s plenty I should be getting on with today – yet I’ve spent the past four hours catching up on music downloads and email. Oops.

Fi texted me on Christmas Eve to let me know that stupid Ryan Adams is playing a stupid Glasgow date, which made it a merry one for my Visa card. Still, a Glasgow date and then another show in Liverpool with Amber and hopefully K too ought to make it a good February, always supposing the bastard doesn’t cancel again.

For the first time ever, I went out on Christmas Eve this year. Perhaps it was the resulting hangover that made the day itself so anti-climatic.


The sister hates this picture, but I think it’s pretty cute. And hey, it’s my blog. Ha ha.

It was a good night though – I met up with Angelus for a couple before catching up with the sister and ending up in the sort of dodgy club that, in my somewhat inebriated state, Ange couldn’t quite put me off by telling me it played nothing but “my nigga say dis, my nigga say dat” music (I promised him I’d publish that one). One of the pubs we visited earlier in the night had a guy making balloon sculptures. I don’t think we were supposed to take them home though, if the glares I got when leaving were any indication:

I lost the ballons about ten seconds after this picture was taken, and they floated off merrily into the Paisley sky while some boys tried to chase them for me.

What else? Well there have been a couple of excursions to Braehead for the sales; I got a couple of cute tops as well as trying on the obligatory monstrosity for the amusement of the universal blogosphere:

(Sniff. Kat and Alfie are gone from Eastenders. It was the happiest of happy endings; still, there’s one TV show I’ll have no need to watch again, um, ever.)

Plus I pooled my Christmas money and a little of my own and bought the entire X-Files on DVD. This, coupled with my brother’s present (the Resist of Serve game for the Playstation 2) means I may never leave the house or sleep again.

Not sure how I feel about the news that people are still trying to make money out of the rotting corpse of the Libertines, although as I do quite like Anthony Thornton and I have no shame I’ll probably buy it anyway.

TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL THE LITANY OF DISASTER THAT WAS 2005 IS OVER. OH YES.

there but for the grace of god go i;

Published on December 23, 2005 in a little more personal, film, mmm... food and music. 1 Comment Tags: , , , , , , , , , .

Rich people just can’t do food. There’s a Family Guy quote I heard yesterday I wanted to put in this post, something to do with rich people always eating the worst part of the animal (caviar being a case in point) but I’m clearly not putting the right keyword combination into Google.

Anyway. We had our work Christmas lunch yesterday at what some would deem the fanciest restaurant in Glasgow. Now some would have me down as a fussy eater, but the way I look at it I have three unbreakable rules when it comes to eating:

1. No foods that look like vomit (although this tends to rule out most foods with sauces)
2. No foods with names so fancy you can’t actually tell what’s in it
3. No fish. It’s a bit ming

See? Not fussy at all. The thing is, everything down as a starter yesterday breached rule #2, and just didn’t sound very appetising, and so Gary and I asked if we could just have the soup although it wasn’t on the set menu. So our starters arrived and I kid you not, I was presented with what looked like a small, soggy oatcake atop which was perched… a poached egg. I think my confusion was perfectly understandable, and so I began to protest before somebody appeared at my shoulder and cut me off by pouring cream of mushroom soup from a tureen around the whole mess.

But there was a poached egg floating in it. A poached egg! I’m telling you, it could have been the nicest soup in the world (it wasn’t), there was no way in hell I was eating more than a spoonful.

The fillet of beef was lovely, but it came with these sickeningly rich, creamy potatoes. The cheese board has some stuff that breached rule #1 on the side, and the dessert was nothing special. I I hadn’t been rushing to my bed with a migraine I would have picked up a McDonalds on the way home.

Today there have been presents and cuddles and coffee (I got Will Jacksonville City Nights for Christmas – see, this is why you should never tell me that you like country music). My godson is walking now, although he still has to hold himself up on the coffee table).

The sister and I went to see Narnia last night and it was better than I expected, although I doubt any film could follow THE TRAILER FOR PIRATES OF THE CARRIBBEAN 2!!!! That’s made my Christmas, that has.

Have a good one, kids. I’ll be on before the New Year I’m sure.

*edit* HAHA! My mum’s watching Trinny and Susannah, and there’s a woman on with the same pants as me!! God, those women are more obsessed with breasts than I am.

And – oh my word – how skanky is the new Sugababe?

if only to be closer to you, caroline;

Published on December 23, 2005 in music. 1 Comment Tags: , .

Here we go again. I must be getting older – rather than the screams of excitement that have accompanied such announcements in the past, this time I merely rolled my eyes and muttered “Oh for fuck’s SAKE.” No Glasgow show again, see, which means a lot of expense and inconvenience for a tour that the cynic in me says is only going to end up cancelled.

Still. Liverpool or Manchester would be nice ;)

*edit* Looks like a weekend in Liverpool then!

antiquehighheelreddollshoes;

Published on December 21, 2005 in a little more personal and music. 2 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , .

I met up with Jenny, and with Stephanie and her new boy, after work last night but before that I went along to TopShop to spend my Christmas vouchers. I’d spotted this ace top when I was in with Bob-berta over the weekend, but sadly it didn’t look half so pretty on. It was probably for the best though, as the thing was forty quid…

I decided to have a look for something I could wear to the office Christmas party instead, and I was rifling through a rack of pretty rose-patterned tops when I was approached by a Random Shop Boy who asked if I needed help finding a size. Now I’m not one for being pressurised when I’m shopping, so I just kind of squeaked “ten” at him before scurrying away. Five minutes later though, he caught me pondering the Accompanying Skirt Question with a faraway look on my face, and asked if he could help. I don’t quite know how it happened, but next thing I knew I was being whisked around the shop by this boy with a selection of skirts hooked under his arms. “I don’t know how self-conscious you are…” he said, rifling through some of the shorter selections. I could only indicate what I was wearing and point out that, this being what I wear to work, I was hardly likely to be embarassed.

And can I just say, I’d thoroughly recommend the experience to anyone? I’d never have picked the skirt I ended up with (it looks a little like somebody has fed it through a shredder) but on, it looked fantastic. And when the pretty rose-patterned top didn’t fit – TopShop doing their usual with their 10s straining to accommodate what some of us carry around up top – my personal style advisor scurried off to bring me a selection of other ones (not all of which were completely to my taste, but full marks for trying). So yes – Ricky of TopShop Argyll Street, you are awesome and my Christmas angel.

(I ended up giving up on a top but came away with the skirt, the most amazing pair of high-heeled shoes I’m never going to get anywhere in, but which I wish I could find a picture of online because they are ACE), and a pair of black and white striped knee-highs. There’s a top in Miss Selfridge I think I’ll go back for tonight. Merry Christmas Lissie :)

Sorry for the overshare, but I desperately need to go bra shopping. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror last night and realised I was spilling out of the bright pink thing I picked up as an emergency that weekend I ended up in Edinburgh without a bra (it’s not that long a story, I was in a corset the night before and no, you’ll find most places don’t tend to have a huge selection of 32DDs). I seem to be advancing through the alphabet faster than a third-grade reading class. Cocktails-and-Bravissimo day early in the new year then, girlies?

On a completely unrelated note, I ran into my high-school crush on my way home last night. I haven’t seen him in about three years (he disappeared en route to getting me a drink in Furys one night, which was slightly disconcerting). He’s still cute. And doing a law degree.

The Christmas presents are nearly all wrapped, and I’ve been getting into the seasonal spirit by doing it along to the Christmas video countdown on The Hits. Of course, seeing as I hate pretty much every Christmas song ever released (bar a selection of cover versions by various American indie bands, and “Fairytale of New York” of course) I had the TV on mute and my own music on in the background. If there’s anything more festive than Boney M appearing to harmonise “Where Is My Mind” in fur coats and Santa hats, I’d like to see it.

One working afternoon left and tonight the festivities begin. And that’s me until January 4th! For the first time in six years – no eight-hour shift and supermarket queues to deal with on Christmas Eve! Hurrah!

By the way – remind me never again to pre-order my albums from Amazon. 29 has been out since Monday, and I’m still waiting to hear it. Super Saver Delivery my BUM.

*edit* GloNo’s review of the year, of sorts. We share it because we love them.

she lives for the written word//and people come second or possibly third;

Published on December 19, 2005 in a little more personal and aff the telly. 1 Comment Tags: , , , , , .

On the face of it, things aren’t too bad right now. I mean I’ve got a decent job, I know who my friends are and, with the right make-up, you can cover up a multitude of wintertime imperfections. Maybe my mood is just waiting until the shitty catalogue of disaster that was 2005 is over with to lift. Two weeks – only three working days – to go.

It’s been too long since I had some grand Plan as a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I have no idea what I’m going to be doing with myself next year, but I couldn’t bear it if it was more of the same.

The whole Nana Moon storyline in Eastenders only serves to remind me that this is going to be our first Christmas without my wee Grandad. I miss him.

Listen to me! It’s not all doom and gloom you know – most importantly, my Christmas shopping is nearly all done! I got half of it done in my lunch hour on Friday and most of the rest of it on Friday afternoon. Leaving it all until the last minute really isn’t so bad – when you know roughly what you have to buy you can tackle it like a girl on a mission and save yourself a lot of aimless meandering. I’ve also been trying to keep my application of the usual present-buying rule – one for you, one for me – to the bare minimum.

Now to brave the scary queues at the post office and get these cards sent…

RIP John Spencer.

that’s entertainment;

Published on December 18, 2005 in a little more personal, aff the telly and mmm... food. 2 Comments Tags: , , , , .

Perhaps it’s safest to stay at home and watch television on a Saturday night when I’m feeling a bit hormonal. I sobbed all the way through Casualty. Classy.

I’m downloading an application form for my sister for next year’s X Factor. Oh, don’t laugh. You know, if there was ever any doubt that those shows were less about the music than a Saturday night’s cheap entertainment I think they’ve gone and proved it now. So much talent… and the winner’s single is a pile of ass. No wonder the “stars” sink into obscurity before the cameras start rolling on the next series. Which is a shame, because Shayne is a pretty talented kid – did you hear his “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”? OH. MY. GAWD.

I got to meet up with my Robski yesterday and show her a bit of the high life. The Zinc Bar’s bruchetta and parmesan and chilli chips are lovely (and this is why you should switch your phone on occasionally, Jules). I’ve also done a bit of research and can stop telling people the work are going to a Jasper Conran restaurant for Christmas dinner. Terrence Conran, Lis. TERRENCE.

elizabeth, you were born to play that part;

Published on December 16, 2005 in a little more personal, music and travellin'. 1 Comment Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

Yesterday was supposed to be my Christmas shopping day, but I ended up spending the whole day in bed guzzling Boots-own-brand Lemsip. This cold won’t seem to shift, so I guess you could say I’m feeling a little sorry for myself. Essentially I now have to brave the centre of Glasgow on Saturday, and if the queues during the week are anything to go by I won’t be doing a lot of moving. Light clothing, comfortable footwear and emergency rations of water and Strepsils are recommended, as well as having some idea of what I’m actually going in for.

I don’t have much of a clue, to be honest. But hopefully there’ll be pre-Christmas glamorous cocktails with some of my girlies to break up the battles.

I dragged the laptop into bed with me at some point in the afternoon so I could at least feel as if I had made a start on my shopping. I managed to pick up a few things, but it was really only so I could bulk up my order enough for free delivery on my pre-ordered copy of Ryan Adams’ 29 (I get the impression it’s going to be another Love Is Hell, and I doubt I’m going to like it as much as his stuff with the Cardinals. Oh well, three albums in a year = uncomplaining Lis. Have a listen to the title track and see for yourself, or you could always pop along to NME.com and give the whole thing a listen – I, however, am saving myself for release day).

Now if I was a Londoner, Christmas shopping would be easy – as Stevie pointed out at the weekend you could probably pick up everything you need in Victoria Station. They even have a shop devoted to international CHEESE:

But obviously there are better things to do during a rare afternoon in the capital: like not get to steal Stevie’s copy of Plan B magazine; partake of Kerry’s rather fabulous soup; and show just how uncordinated you are when it comes to playing Playstation games (apparently I bored my “ho”s legs shut as I struggled with Grand Theft Auto – this despite the number of pedestrians I managed to mow down with rather satisfying squish noises – betcha she’s never had a ride quite like that before. Ahem).

Kerry and Chris certainly know how to entertain their guests – they like Top Gear almost as much as I do. THERE WAS THIS LIGHT SENSITVE PETROL CAP THINGY THAT TOLD YOU IF YOUR CAR RAN ON DIESEL AND IT WOULDN’T SHUT UP SO JEREMY CHASED IT ACROSS THE STUDIO BASHING IT WITH A MALLET.

Darling Kerry had also acquired a signed, framed Ryan Adams picture for me. It was quite an interesting experience getting it across Vauxhaul and back to Brighton, but even more so getting it home – especially considering I got on the wrong train at Brighton and realised, as we cheerfully sailed through the Gatwick station, that it was highly likely I was going to miss my flight. Thanks to a convenient delay (see, i don’t mind if the delay doesn’t tip the eight-hour mark) and those nice British Airways people letting me have like four pieces of hand luggage, I somehow made it home in one piece.

I also got to meet up with Sapphira and that toyboy of hers for a quick drink. Now I happen to feel particularly smugly responsible for that state of affairs even if it’s nothing to do with me, since if Sapph hadn’t fallen prey to my one-woman Sleater-Kinney street-teaming back in September she’d never have met Tom in the first place. Three months later and they’re the sort of couple who play with each other’s fingers when they’re sitting next to each other in the pub and manage to come across as adoreable rather than irritating. So yay :)

Other than that, there’s not much to tell. I was at the first night of my Cha’s show last night, and she looked absolutely stunning in a gold dress and fairy wand. None of the boys joined in the obligatory chorus of “Is This The Way To Amarillo Cinder’s Wedding”, so hopefully there’ll be a bit more hilarity tonight with the girls. Went to a karaoke pub with something like half the cast afterwards, singing McFly all the way there and feeling slightly sick all the way back. I thought the vitamin content of vodka and fresh orange juice would be good for a cold…

they’re sellin’ postcards of the hanging;

Published on December 11, 2005 in a little more personal and travellin'. 5 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , .

I’ve been slowly coming down with a cold for the past couple of weeks now, and irritatingly – and somewhat typically – it’s decided to kick off big-style with me down south seeing two of my best friends who I haven’t seen in ages. Who, it so happened, were having a party tonight. I did my best to get into the mood: Kaite’s party theme was children’s characters, and although travelling light does pose its disadvantages when it comes to costume ideas it tends to be easy enough to improvise when there’s a pair of fairy wings around.

It just wasn’t for happening though. Saturday night telly certainly didn’t help to get me in the mood – proof positive that the British public can’t be trusted with anything. I ended up taking solace in Lola and Kaite’s bedroom while the party went on around me, dozing off and on and listening to Bob Dylan just loud enough to almost drown out the next room’s Big Gay Party Playlist.

I seem to remember I used to be fun once.

So now it’s after four and the house is quiet, although there’s a fairly constant stream of passing cars. Still I’m sitting on a cushion on the floor wrapped in a blanket with tassels on the ends; typing this with only my sniffles, Andy’s conspiracy theories and a slightly skittish cat in no mood for lovin’ for company. It seems a very Lis time to be awake, although I haven’t done this in years.

It’s been a week of transport traumas for me – I didn’t think my train to work on Thursday which took an hour for a fifteen-minute journey could easily be beaten (there seems to be no end to Scotrail’s ubiquitous “points failures” at this time of year), but BA were more than a match for it on Friday. One cancelled flight and one extremely delayed flight later, I made it to Brighton a good seven hours after I was expecting to. And there’ll be no compensation for the amount of money boredom got me spending in the departure lounge (including two shiny new paperbacks by my two biggest idols: yes that would be Volume One of Bob Dylan’s Chronicles, and The World According To Clarkson).

Blah blah blah work stuff I won’t talk about because don’t bloggers get fired for that sort of thing, night out on Thursday was pretty good for reasons not limited to Roy’s “Life On Mars” dance but restaurants that hire bad lounge singers and do themselves up to be as gaudy as possible just because it’s coming up to the festive season need to try a lot harder to bowl me over with the steak than that. Robling and Julesie and I must put on our fanciest dresses and go to the Zinc Bar for flirtinis soon.

Anyway, I still hope to make it to London in the morning but I suppose it all depends on how I’m feeling and how late I surface. For now I’m just going to go “hmph” at being referred to as “Lisa” somewhere on the internet, by somebody I really thought might know better by now…

And I’ll leave you with this, courtesy of The Friday Thing: The Twelve Days of Kitschmas.

bangbangyrdead!;

Published on December 6, 2005 in music. 1 Comment

DIRTY PRETTY THINGS SURFACES ONLINE!!!!! Warning: the rest of the world seems about as excited about this as I am and getting to the site’s a bit hit and miss. The new Libertines or, god forbid, Babyshambles Mk 2? Only time will tell…

Almost as exciting: Sean at Said The Gramophone has posted his 22 favourite tracks of 2005. Last Year’s Mix is looking rather paltry in comparison…