cabin fever and good timing

The house is very empty. I spent the weekend playing video games and watching DVDs. I did very little writing though I did feel very guilty about not writing. When I wasn't absorbed in a movie or video game. My mind wandered and when I did write it wasn't really on my book, just a few scraps in my notebooks; not story ideas, just lines of prose, occasional verse that may be squeezed in somewhere, or lie forgotten for awhile. I don't know. But tomorrow's a writing day.

The scrappy, piecemeal nature of the last few days has become apparent in my recent music downloads. Some were legal, some were not; all were awful. I got nostalgia again, I'm afraid. But not a longing nostalgia for youth and innocence, more a curious, exclamatory nostalgia. For example, "what the fuck was that song about!?"


The songs?

Freakazoid by Midnight Star - the Ultimix no less, which featured on a New York Breakdancers compilation LP that I learned to breakdance to when I was 6. Remember about a year ago I waxed lyrical about how amazing old school East Coast hip-hop still is, citing Run-DMC, De La Soul and Tribe Called Quest as evolutionary examples? Well, some of it just sucks, as I've just been reminded. I'm keeping it in my iTunes library though. So there.

Rock Me Amadeus by Falco - a one-hit-wonder if ever there was one. But I kind of remember liking this song. I kind of don't remember it being in fucking German. And not in the cooler Nena 99 luftballons vs red balloons way, which has stood the test of time, but in a really rubbish way. I studied German for 5 years and couldn't understand a word of it. And part of me was relieved. The annoying thing is I think that there's a great cover or sample to be made from this. Dreadful synth bassline and everything but mark my words, there's something there. Sadly, the cover I downloaded sucked balls. The fact that I downloaded a cover as well as the original horrifies me. I'm sure it would horrify anyone old enough to remember the originals.

It's cabin fever, I'm sure of it. Living off takeaways as well. You've read this, you know how much I love to cook. I've cooked once since my parents left. Then followed curry, pizza, chinese and thai. Tonight was a ready meal.

I'm getting out of the house tomorrow night though. It's to go to a friend's to eat pizza and watch DVDs. Can't move too fast with these things.

And I've been missing Scotland. London's brilliant, but it's quite flat. I was watching a DVD the other day, the latest Harry Potter as it happened, and some of the scenery shots that weren't covered in CGI dragons and whatnot had me pining for Caledonia. There is something deeply magical about the land to the north, and not in the lightning-scar-on-the-forehead-half-a-billion-in-the-bank kind of way either. I do miss it. I'm driving up on Friday. And the Friday after that, and the Friday after that. I figure 3 weekends in a row and I'll be gasping for London. Why all these trips? Well, in memorial services, port and polo all play a significant role.

This is a photo I took of the V & A one day when the light was quite groovy. Ignore the green sunspot and instead admire the light and contrast. Or something.