So, I was a dumbass and I deleted my twitter. Boo me, I know. It was in a fit of drama lama and wasn’t very thought through, to the point where I guess I didn’t 100% realise that there was no undelete. And I miss my old username and my normal email address. Your help pages says that the username and email address are only blocked for 30 days, and it’s been more than that now, so can I please be krazycat again?
I fully recognise that I was a total dumbass and that you don’t need to do nuthin’ for me, I clicked okay after all, twice. But imagine me looking a bit like this: http://pics.livejournal.com/cleolinda/pic/001t79ff – that’s my sad little face. Don’t you want to make my sad little face into a happy face instead?
See, I’m trying to win you over with humour. Is it working? Please twitter, we’ve been buds for a while. I just don’t know how to quit you. Let me have back my username, so that I can mourn my lost @replies from michael sheen and john hodgman under my real internet nick that’s been with me since 1997.
Still not convinced? Okay twitter, I understand. I’m not gonna cry. Have a lovely fourth of July weekend, one and all. Me, I’m Norwegian (UK Resident) so for me, it’s just “weekend”.
Thanks for reading!
Love, Tinkertake
(actual support request submitted to twitter)
Dear stranger who accidentally dropped a ten pound note at Waterloo tube this morning,
I don’t know who you are, because I didn’t see anyone drop it. It was just lying there, by the ticket barrier, and I had no way of knowing who it belonged to. I thought about leaving it, or give it to the person working at the station, or asking if anyone had dropped some money. But I picked it up, and took it with me.
Did I think I’d hit the jackpot? No, that’s not who I am. I looked for the people with the buckets collecting for charity, but for once there weren’t anyone around. I didn’t see any homeless people sleeping next to the station either, which is something that hardly ever happens. But I didn’t want to spend your tenner, because it wasn’t my tenner and if I spent it for me, it would feel like stealing.
So here’s what I did. I went online and donated £10 to Shelter. I didn’t keep your money, even though I have the actual note itself. But I didn’t make any money today, I’m no better off by finding your tenner. By donating to shelter, maybe someone else would be a bit better off from the money you lost. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you your money back, as I don’t know who you are that wasn’t possible. If I’d asked around, someone else would’ve probably seen their opportunity to say “oh yes it’s mine” and spend it on themselves. This way, even though I did pick up your money, at least it went somewhere good. I’d like to think you’d be cool with that.
Regards,
the stranger who found your money.
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
It had so much potential. A girl narrowly escapes death of a car accident and ends up hearing people’s thoughts and seeing their auras. There was so many places this could go, but in the end it ended up being a hybrid of Twilight and GloomCookie, only more Twilight than GloomCookie due to the absolute bastardisation of the Goth character (did you know that if you skip instead of skulk, you’re not REALLY into the Goth scene? No, me either) and descending into really boring stereotypes.
I read the book in one evening, praying for it to improve, and I was bored. Bored bored bored. And I will read the next one because I already bought it and clearly I am a masochist. Plus I do kind of want to know where they go from where this book ended (no spoiler), because it doesn’t seem like it really needs a sequel. I wouldn’t recommend this book to anyone I know because even though it was a quick and easy read, it just made me annoyed.
Good think we kept looking. It’s been more than four years and he looks lovelier to me now than he did back then.
Picture by Simon Stacey
Hi Voltaire,
I brought my lovely Deady not bootleg figure (attached to my bag) to see rage against the machine last night. Somehow, through the magic of mosh pits, I elbowed some dude in the face (or rather, he jumped into my elbow..), I sprained my finger and Deady disappeared. I am sorry to say he was probably trampled to deathA fitting way to go, sure, but I mourn his passing.
While no Deady can replace the one you sold me in person in Oslo, I do really want a new one. But merchdirect is lame and has none of your stuff on it. Where can I go to replace my poor lost (trampled, sniff) Deady? My bag looks all wrong without Deady.
Help?
Last night was really cool. We got there late because I am trying to revise after all, and only caught the end of Gogol Bordello. But Rage Against The Machine was so much fun! And yes, I at one point could not resist any longer, I thrust my handbag into Mr Pharmacist’s arms and hurled myself into a circle pit, where I pushed and showed like the rest of them. AWESOME. Of course, I hurt my finger in the first jump in, someone fell on me, on my finger, and it was Holy Owwie. But I satisfied myself that it was not broken, and went back in. I’m surprised I’m not covered in bruises, and that the finger was the full extent of my injuries. I’m pretty sure someone else lost a tooth.
It feels highly appropriate to have a minor injury after seeing Rage Against The Machine. Afterwards I felt knackered, with a sore throat from all the shouting and I was drenched in sweat. It felt amazing. I feel like I’ve gotten in touch with my Inner Badass again. And while my finger hurts, and I have to cover it in cold patches to try to reduce the swelling, every second of ache is absolutely worth it. I felt so alive last night, like something in me resurfaced that’s been buried for a long time.
Pixies and Rage Against The Machine in one weekend. Man, I feel so alive. I needed this kick in the face (no actual kicks in the face ocurred) to shake me out of my funk.
This Thursday and Friday, the mighty Pixies played two fan exclusive shows at The Troxy in London, a venue I’d never even heard of before. It’s in Limehouse, which is surprisingly close to where I’m living and quite easy to get to from here, thanks to the magic of the new London Overground service.
The venue was a cute, old fashioned style theatre. We were upstairs in unassigned seating, and though we arrived before the support came on, it was fairly full already. There was a section of reserved seats in front of us, which had tables. I wonder how you got those seats, they weren’t on sale on the pixies website.It was warm in there. I was sitting, like everyone else (the upstairs crowd only got to their feet at the encore) and I was drenched from just dance-bouncing in my seat. And I wasn’t really expecting all that much, but I was blown away. Hit after hit, and then they played Caribou, by far my favourite Pixies song. It was just like I dreamed it would be live, intense and powerful. I was beside myself with joy. I loved every second of the gig.
On my way home, @nikki randomly came up behind me and said hello, I turned to face her and had a “oh shit this person seems to know who I am and I have forgotten them who is it come on brain come on brain” moment before she revealed her identity and I blurted out “you look nothing like your picture!” – that came out wrong Nikki, so sorry! You know what it’s like with people you know online sometimes, you have an idea in your head of what someone looks like, and some times these ideas are utterly wrong. Case in point – this time! And those seconds before nikki revealed who she was, I was racing through my mind trying to find something that fit the person in front of me. Funnily enough, her boyfriend looked entirely like what I thought he would.
All in all, a pretty good night!!
Setlist
1. Cecilia Ann
2. Rock Music [aborted]
3. Bone Machine
4. Monkey Gone to Heaven
5. Gouge Away
6. Hey
7. Velouria
8. Dig for Fire
9. Allison
10. Debaser
11. Planet Of Sound
12. Alec Eiffel
13. Caribou
14. River Euphrates
15. Cactus
16. Is She Weird?
17. Break My Body
18. The Sad Punk
19. Head On [The Jesus and Mary Chain]
20. U-Mass
21. Tame
22. Isla de Encanta
23. Broken Face
24. Wave of Mutilation
25. Nimrod’s Son
26. Holiday Song
27. Gigantic
Encore
1. Where is my Mind?
2. Here Comes Your Man
Did I just manage to get Semagic to work with thisspaceblank?
ETA: YESSSSSS
Do you remember back in the day, when we told each other everything and social media didn’t exist? When our journals were public and no one knew where to look for them? Where entries were frequent, and long, and we read them?
Do you remember how we used to write, before the limitations of status updates and 140 characters? Do you remember when we were younger and sharing wasn’t so scary? When the Internet wasn’t somewhere your boss would look for you? And the Internet was a different place entirely, separate from the Real World? Do you remember how free it felt? Do you remember finding each other, complete strangers, and creating bonds that by now have lasted 5, 10, 12 years?
Do you remember when it was all new and exciting? It’s not that Internet any longer. It’s information overload and comments – comments everywhere that make me lose faith in humanity’s ability to not only comprehend the written word, but more importantly the lack of empathy leaves me cold and worried. The Internet – which I loved for the joy and adventure we shared, more than ever it’s gut reaction and taking great pleasure in condemning complete strangers who may have made a mistake. The Internet takes the worst of humanity and combines it with news articles, as if allowing the Great Public to lower the tone is furthering the conversation.
Maybe it was always like this. Maybe I’m becoming bitter and old. Maybe I’ve changed more than the Internet. But it’s not my Internet any longer, it’s not my playground like it used to be. And it feels like I’ve lost something.
This was a widget, but both wordpress and LJ stripped the code out, so that was pretty useless.