Monday, 22 December 2008

An abomination

In the words of stephen fry,'Absolute stool water'.

Wednesday, 17 December 2008

Yellow Fever

It's been a month since my last post, so I guess I intend to try to make this a good read for my readers reader (hi 'Sylverine').
The past month has been a bit hectic with uni and lots of coursework deadlines. But it's also been a brilliant month in terms of my planning of my future and ahemYellowFeverahem. To counter the length (and lameness) of this post, I will be putting in pretty pictures.

Today, I had to present my research proposal on sexual selection at 9.30. So I got to my local station at 8:20 so I could get to the Dictator bright and early. HOWEVER, somebody had taken ill on the train ahead of us, which meant I got to Victoria at 9:05!! *shock* 30 minute train ride?! what WHAT?! Disastrous. I needed to buy tights because my legs were freezing under my skirt, but NO TIME!! THERE WAS A QUEUE!. Ogh. Dreadful.
Anyway, I managed to make it just in the nick of time to find I was LAST. To do my presentation. LAST! O the drama.
O well, after getting more and more nervous and watching some rather brilliant presentations, I had to do mine. It went ok, but only later did I realise I used the words 'sperm', 'high quality' and 'monopolise the goodness' in ONE sentence. How unbelievably embarassing. It took me back to that day in bio with the gerbils and the remember.

Later in the day, Schooto, Mong and I tried to get high on relentless. It took a while to kick in really. And even then, it was only for a short time. Boohoo. On the bright side, I got to share my love of the yellow with them. And now I shall with you.

Song Seung Heon and Kwon Sang Woo. Two actors I discovered in my watching of korean chick flicks. So much love for them. They are soo funny. And although Kwon Sang woo doesn't seem to photograph well, he has a brilliant smile in My Tutor Friend. Song Seung Heon and his children's fairy tale scene in 'The Guy Was Cool' still makes me giggle. Every time. He's in a Kdrama East of Eden too. Must watch I think.
Also a must watch is the film with BOTH of them in it,together! Fate. The picture here is the poster for the film.

From Korean Chick flicks, I moved into KPop. Bi Rain is a megastar (conquering Asia and stepped into the US) and initially I was fangirling out about him. But then, I saw the making of one of his videos and he just had NO personality.

And so my current favourite band for their awesome AWESOME ness is DBSK (Dong Bang Shin Ki). As guys they are hilarious and as singers they are powerful. Dancing isn't all that bad either (FANTASTIC). They're like every boy group rolled into one, and according to Sylverine, Girls Aloud too (I don't see it).

Considering they're such funny guys, there aren't many candid shots.
This link makes me tres happy, while this one makes me sad.

Taiwanese drama anyone? O YES please!! 'Miss No Good' starring Mandopop stars Pan Wei Bo and Rainie Yang. So cute. SO lame. But just happy smilie making. Dean Fujioka is SO pretty. And he's a GUY!. Ogh..just so...cartoon like in his perfectness.

Finally we have Daniel Henney. Half Korean and Half American. Phwoar he's man. I've shown him around and nobody denies that he is a bit of fit. Not even Schooto! And she thinks I'm an absolute loser with my Yellow Fever. Yet she still has to concede that the Henney is a bit of phwoar.
I was sharing him with Schooto and Mong when SurprisedbutGreatHair(SbGH) drops by to discuss our impending practical write up on Rotifers. He sees the Henney on the screen and hangs his head like 'What on Earth...' At one point his head was in my elbow (for a tall guy this is a long way to bend), and I thought, thank Goodness today was Chanel Mademoiselle day and not that foul BerryDelicious (DKNY). It was an odd moment.
Anyhoo. SbGH thinks he doesn't have an American accent. He so does. Which is odd, considering he didn't go to an American English type school. Odd really.

O the Daniel Henney.
I endeavour to go to the X Men-origins movie premiere. I wonder if he'll turn up.
Enough rambling for today. More another day. I'm sure you look forward to it :D

Monday, 17 November 2008

Monday Morning, Pre-10 AM Stories

#1: In Victoria, I saw a wonderful camel-coloured boxer dog. Looked to be about 6 months old. Every few moments, its owner would tug it by the leash so hard, it would be pulled up onto its hind legs! This happened more than three times and I just couldn't stop watching. Why? Because just after each tug, when the pup was released, it would turn up and look at its owner with such a beseeching expression: 'Why are you doing this? I expected so much more from you'
Heinous anthropomorphisation there.

#2: 'Where yer roads would be, there's Wa-a!*'
Exclaimed the woman walking ahead of me along exhibition road. With her manner of speech, she sweepingly marred the description of Venice.
Her friend responds, 'Wo'! You mean no cars!'
I didn't expect such chavviness in South Kensington. Specially when I had just journeyed in from Croydon-land of the Chav.

#3: Perfect photo moments. As I was coming up Exhibition Road, a flock of pigeons suddenly took flight. Don't get me wrong, I think they are flying vermin. However, with the sky cllouded over, and looking up at the dome of the Victoria and Albert museum, with the pigeons peppering from the bottom right to the top left of the sky (in what would have been the frame). It was just a perfect moment. And I wish I had had my camera with me.

#4: What's worse than both those seperate events is the following; entering uni, and hearing Beyonce screeching out of the radio in the little canteen. Beyonce. She knows how to make one word go on for several bars no? I wish she would just stop. It feels like since leaving Destiny's Child, there's no one to restrain her and stop her warbling to her hearts content.

#5: Britain's obsession with the gruesome. Before I left the house today, I turned on the TV and it just happened to be on the channle broadcasting GMTV. As ever, on the hour, the news at 7 began. First story? Baby P. It's as though our Island is in the thrall of the tragedy that is Baby P. The facebook group has over 153000 members. The captions on the photos in this group are all along the line of 'You were too good for this world gorgeous baby-RIP'.
Is this today's equivalent of heart felt words? Empty words. It's crazy.
And it's not the first time that the British public has gone completely nuts about the latest abused child and managed to stretch the story out for 6months or more. I mean, to name a few, Holly (was it Molly?) and Jessica, Madeleine and now 'Baby P'.
Common factors? All blonde blue eyed arian children.
But people focus on one death for months. I'm sorry, but I guess I've become desensitised to this.
There are children being abused all over the world, dying in dire circumstances, children riddled with injuries from a war they don't understand, and all the British public can go ON about is One blonde kid. I think it's sad that our media can't shed light on more injustices in the world. I think it's sad that the people of this land are so..simple. So simple to get het up over one injustice, and are completely unaware, or simply being ignorant of how wide the world is.
Sometimes, I feel as though the public glean some sort of perverse pleasure out of feeling this false sympathy for kids like Baby P. Like, by joining a facebook group, and slagging off the mother shows that they are compassionate people, and they've done their bit.

When is enough, enough?

Thursday, 13 November 2008

Rather funny facebook thread

Mozzarella wrote at 6:13pm on September 21st, 2008
I a monkey

Sylverine (Queen Mary University of London) wrote at 6:42pm on September 21st, 2008
Are you being racist?

Ted (King's College London) wrote at 6:46pm on September 21st, 2008
To yourself?!

Mozzarella wrote at 6:50pm on September 21st, 2008
...Where is the racism in this?I'm saying, I look like a monkey. This makes me sad.

Sylverine (Queen Mary University of London) wrote at 6:53pm on September 21st, 2008
...the monkey bit...

Mozzarella wrote at 6:55pm on September 21st, 2008
HOW?!I look like a monkey!! MY FACE LOOKS LIKE A MONKEY!The least you could do is disagree! Not say I'm racist!

Sylverine (Queen Mary University of London) wrote at 6:59pm on September 21st, 2008
According to cricket, monkey is racist

Mozzarella wrote at 7:26pm on September 21st, 2008
O I see...I call everyone monkeys..and I'm not being racist. Shall I tell you why? Because life isn't cricket. Cricket it *your* life :)

Dink (Warwick) wrote at 10:08am on September 22nd, 2008
Lol. Everything about this page cracks me up :D

Mozzarella wrote at 10:50am on September 22nd, 2008
SOMEONE could disagree with me now re: monkey face

Ted (King's College London) wrote at 12:50pm on September 22nd, 2008
Oh sorry, Mozzarella... You don't look like a monkey you silly, um, banana?

Woman (Brunel) wrote at 8:46pm
I've just come across this. And laughed. Lots. :D

Mozzarella wrote at 8:52pm
O you're so evil

Monday, 20 October 2008

Social Convention

Social convention and courtesy. I'm finding it a real trial.
The little courtesies that must be followed in order to prevent estrangement.
You'd think that I'd be above the playground politics by now. Definitely not.

I believe that the Dictator has destroyed me. Broken me down. After building me up in the first year, breaking me down to my most basic of elements, ie. the solitary me, in the second, I'm waiting for the gentle rebuilding of the new me in the final year.

I had an epiphany over the summer. A moment where suddenly it all became clear to me. Out with the old, in with the new I say. Tired of social convention, and tired of being nice when I dont want to be. Sick of making such an effort with people when they do not return the favour.
The people of the Dictator have actually destroyed my spirit. That saying, it isn't possible for something to do something to you unless you let it. My meaning being, I have let things overwhelm me.

But in this Autumn, I am beginning my own personal rennaissance. It will be brilliant... a masterpiece. Out with all these fripperies and finery of false joviality. I will smile. I will be happy. I will leave those from the past and take in my future.
The time is now. Am I ready for it...

I'm going to bake a cake and mull this over.

Thursday, 16 October 2008

Not moved..

Oddly,i am still in the throes of a cold happiness; i love london sometimes.

This wondrous.

Im sitting on a bench in Sloane square,feeling the rumble of the train beneath me, reading a book and generally just watching the crisp red leaves fall. I find myself strangely happy. The air around has that finger numbing bitterness of cold and change which is just SO london, and it feels right. This moment. I wish it could go on like this but then the banality would set in. I would habituate. And like every other londoner,i would begin to complain.
But. They say you know, you just know,when something feels right.

Friday, 10 October 2008

Eating feet is wrong

Who reads the ft with one arm above his head and the other at his hip?!

In other news,im officially no longer a Hawk-ette. Leaving do is this weekend. Looking forward to it somewhat.
Also, im back at the Dictator. I hate it. I cant wait till its over and i can squee about what i want to do with my life. But for now..i hate the Dictator with a passion. On the bright side,yesterday, a girl told me she liked my [fashion] style this brightened my day on the slight. However today, my super cute shoes have decided to take a bite out of the back of my feet. This is not cute.
End of the least theres no dictatorship over the weekend.

Monday, 29 September 2008

Here come real stars

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Ay, there's the rub.

I'm restless and I can't sleep. So, not understanding it, I draw my laptop towards me and think about what to write and yet what I conjure is as light as air. I find myself riddled with thoughts, plots, ideas, people, music, wonders and nowhere to rest them. And so they race.

I see your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears.

This is only fleeting, like a sudden mist gathering over a cliffside town, but when I wake, I hope things are clearer.

We are such stuff that dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

I feel like my brain is buzzing. I'm already feeling the straight-jacket of stress. Though for the moment, there is nothing immediately pressing, I can feel it approaching. Is it just me or is this feeling common? I constantly find myself wishing to escape.

Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets!

O but that day should crawl closer and be sooner..

To sleep, perchance to dream- ay, there's the rub

Sunday, 21 September 2008

Life imitates art

It must be wrong of me to aspire to live the american sitcom.

A while ago, Sylverine mentioned she couldn't wait till we're older and we could invite eachother over for tea and chat.

I finally get what she was on about.

I was just watching some random sitcom (My Boys) and I realised how much I wished I had an apartment door to close after a gang of my friends came 'round with food and drink for a night in.

Just an evening of good times yknow? Even if it's just settling in front of the TV to watch crappy stuff. Staying late because you're in a friend's home and not constrained by anything.

And then I thought about Will and Grace and Friends, and I adore that people are always dropping in just to hang out.

I want that.

And so I now take back my scoffing at Sylverine at wishing away our youth because now I see it.

I look forward to when I'm an older and more mature cheese (although mozzarella is best fresh), and I am going to have an eclectic apartment (in London?), which will be decked out with exotic things from my travels, and photographs taken by me, blown up and framed on the walls.

To this apartment I will invite Sylverine and hopefully other people who love me enough to overlook my atrocious eccentricities ( a nice way of saying idiocy).

Saturday, 20 September 2008

I looked upon the wonderland

rupsi says:
i hate zefron
ms. zammil says:
ms. zammil says:
I see
rupsi says:
dont you?
ms. zammil says:
ms. zammil says:
I like his name
ms. zammil says:
he sounds like a fabric soap
ms. zammil says:
Zac Efron! Get your whites whiter!

Sylverine is my favourite friend and I am so glad to have her.
She says 'Sometimes, you are so funny'.

I feel joyous.

Friday, 19 September 2008

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

I'm dancing to some mellow jazz at a wedding and it appears that I am in a white wedding dress. Beehive hairstyle. Very 60s bollywood. This is all very odd.

Then, I spot this man sitting at one of the (round) tables on the edge of the dancefloor, watching me. I walk over to him and I clearly know him. He's an older man, broad in chest and shoulders but lean all over. Navy gorgeously cut suit. And rather attractive.

I have good taste.

'What are you doing here?' I ask.
'I'm here to see you' he answers as he stands.

He shakes out a giant piece of white chiffon as he begins to move to the music with me. He tosses it into the air, and it lands on my head but instead of looking like a buffoon, it lands like a bridal veil.

We continue to move until he says we need to talk. Together we leave the dancefloor and sit at a table on our lonesomes at the back of the hall.

He puts a box on the table and it's clear I've been waiting for this.
I open the box and inside is a Tiffany's box.
Inside the box is this hideous monster of a ring, with no stone! My jaw drops and he laughs at me.
'Open the ring' he says. I proceed to unscrew what should have been the stone and find yet another flat metal expanse with a Tiffany's logo engraving.
Clocking onto what's going on now, I uscrew that. Again, flat metal and Tiffany's.
My ring was some sort of russian doll thing hmm? So I continue in this theme, until I'm thinking ' My diamond must be miniature'..
I keep going though, until I reach what must be the last casing. My sister has arrived on the scene at this point. I unscrew and again my jaw drops. There is nothing there.
He sits and laughs as he shows me a hidden compartment in the box which I completely missed.

He opens something shaped like a bullet casing and inside is a coloured diamond about 2.5 carats big. Putting it in my hand, he asks me to marry him.
Gazing at the stone in my palm, I hear my sister telling me to take it and marry him.
Looking from diamond to him and back, I tell him I need to think about it because suddenly I am daunted by the fact that this stone, once made into a ring cements the fact that I'm marrying him. For EVER.

We sit and we have dinner together and then --


O sweet aargh...I am woken by builders knocking on my door.

What did the dream mean? I have no idea. I had no time to contemplate it as I hurriedly donned something vaguely acceptable and went to explain where the door and window should be in the developing extension.

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

Puff go my sleeves

Today was a good day.
As I write this, my scarf has kindly moulted all over my jumper and my toes huddle and curl in the attempt of warming themselves in my shoes.

It was fun being the patronising awkward mother/teacher of the school of virtue.

I dont know how long I'll be able to keep my position though:
"I like chests.i like them christian bale's...ooh christian bale..mmm...aargh its ramadan!"

Ted departs for spain in a few days. I hope she watches out for herself. I still see her as a child even though I shouldn't.

I bought a cute dress..

Yes it's been a good day.

Wednesday, 10 September 2008


I don't want to. Really. One of the applicants for the position of Man Of My Eye (MOME) emailed me this morning. So far, I don't like his height, or name. And i havent even seen his pic yet. Does this make me shallow?..yes. Which deadly sin have i succumbed to now? Little bit of vanity, bit of pride?
Is it too much to ask that my MOME is somewhat like the leading male in elissa's bitmoun video.
I have a sneaky feeling (sneaky like a punch in the face) that my MOME will not transpire through my mother's connections.

What am I Going to do?


Monday, 8 September 2008

Indifference and neglect often do more damage than outright dislike

It seems that to counter the numbers of those that do not abstain although they are obligated to, there is an equal and opposite force of people who abstain out of choice.

It can really disappoint one.

I don't know how I should feel about this.

So I just won't.
Or at least I'll try not to.

Sunday, 7 September 2008


Sometimes, I feel that it would have been better to have left some things and people as mere ink spills on the pages of the past.

Instead, I invite them into chapters of the future.

'Big mistake. Huge.'

Saturday, 6 September 2008

When it rains, it pours.

Two wonderfuls in one day. Truly an intoxicating experience.

The one from last week came back today. This led to many a giggle between red and I. She even decided not to go and get a drink in order to watch how things panned out with river and I. River is my name for him.

The other wonderful was just the nicest of guys. Much jovial conversation occurred... I love when people (like him) are open and relaxed. And you can talk and be honest and not have to drive a sale. At the Hawk they're all about driving home the sale. Sell sell sell. Watching you like you are their baby Hawks trying to seize the fattest, juiciest, plumpest of prey.

That. Is. Lame. Play fair. Be honest. People will appreciate it.

I sound like the worst sales assistant on the planet.
O well. Not long left at the Hawk anyway.

And's customers, particularly the second wonderful (now christened Strudel)...
Strudel was just so adorable. I love when you discover people's quirks. Makes me wonder what kind of quirks I have that I always express.

Aside: Slim at the Hawk says I overuse wonderful...I dono. WHICH reminds me...I mustn't forget to have a good rant about the new kid on the block at work. Brat, let's call her. Complete and utter spoiled brat. She makes my skin crawl.

I like to talk. All the hawks at the Hawk say I become friends with the customers. Well..that's me. I like to talk to people and get to know them. I like that when they leave, they turn back and say 'It was really good talking to you'.

I like to leave a lasting impression.

Its days like these which make me think I'll miss the Hawk.

Through the Vine

'The vine bears three kinds of grapes: the first of pleasure, the second of intoxication, the third of disgust. '

Said by Diogenes. Which one? I don't know. Reading around on Google, I assume this is in reference to alcohol. However, do we not often auto-categorise things in our day to day lives into pleasurable, intoxicating and disgusting?

Intoxication is something that can be attractive and compelling and yet also sometimes something so powerfully repugnant it draws you in.

Verily, intoxication is troubling grounds.

Looking at my list of Rant-cid Milk, I was thinking which I would write about next. Men in suits give me a certain pleasure. Rotten children and adults alike disgust me...what intoxicates me?

I predict the next few entries falling into these three categories; pleasure, disgust and intoxication.

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

Then I think you have to develop a kind of resistance to rejection.

A few days ago I had another attack of singles' desperation. You know, the feeling that you're going to die alone because either a) you never think you're good enough for someone to love you or b) no one is good enough for you to love.
It was wild. I truly felt that I was on the edge of sanity.

I think the feeling arose out of a feeling of dejection and rejection. Ooh they rhyme!

Feeling rejected is not a hot feeling. I wasn't rejected by a bloke. No no, that would be horrifically embarassing, although that kind of hurt would be fleeting. It is the rejection of your friends which kills. And what's worse is thinking it's rejection when it could be something so simple and explainable, but your pride doesn't let you ask.

Ah Pride..
I never really think of myself as proud. But I do realise that sometimes my pride is like the glass window to a bee trapped in a room.

Being this bee trapped in the room, I'm forced to look through the window. Seeing the outside but not hearing it. And so I don't have a full understanding of my environment.
Hmm...this analogy seems to have carried itself further than I thought it would.

My pride is what stops me from being open to new people I guess. It's something that stops me from being free of inhibitions. Pride is what makes us look at people with different hair/clothes/accents and give them names like chav. You may say it's prejudice. But really it's our pride, the thing that makes us feel we're somehow better than them, that we have dominion over them. And so we name them.
Pride is lame....

Anyway. So this fiasco has led me to believe I'm going to be alone forever. If I can't even get my friends to like me, how am I going to get a bloke to love me?!

Aside Re: The wonderful from the Hawk. He didn't trick me twice. He didn't come in on Saturday, I rang, he said he'd see me on Sunday, I said no I work Wednesday, then I breezed over it all before he got a chance to say/do anything.

On Sunday, my mum put two proposals from some people she knows on my plate. I was shocked. Surprised. I said yes gimme gimme. Then an hour later I said no. These guys are from my land. Snapland. I don't like boys from Snapland generally. So I shouldn't waste their time.

Then I fell further into my dying-alone stupor.

What is it with my wanting to be with someone? Why can't I just be happy as I am?! I'm only twenty, coming to the end of my time at the Dictator, and I ought to be happy that I've got the next few years to figure out what I want in life. And yet I find myself falling into that hideous persona of a chick wishing to wed. As I said earlier, I think this may just be a side-effect of feeling rejected by Woody and Xia.
Nano says they're not worth my time. Sylverine agrees. Yoohoo advises the complete opposite. My mum says I should trust my instinct.

My instinct has me wanting a man in my life.

I need to shake myself out of it.

'You have to dream, you have to have a vision, and you have to set a goal for yourself that might even scare you a little because sometimes that seems far beyond your reach. Then I think you have to develop a kind of resistance to rejection, and to the disappointments that are sure to come your way.'

Saturday, 30 August 2008

Might trick me once

I had the most beautiful customer yesterday at the Hawk. Its times like these that i think ill miss the Damn place when i leave.
O he was the wonderful. And hes coming back today! So i pull out my little book of rules thats been gathering years of dust and look for some advice. It was not as forthcoming as i thought it would be.
Stelli says i should just let things roll freely. Wokit suggested going in to the Hawk for 10 so i dont miss him if he comes in. Yoohoo tells me im a freak. But yoohoo cant exactly talk.
Im taking stelli's advice but with a little dash of some orchestrated interference from Red.

Friday, 29 August 2008


"Smile,it's friday!" he says as he walks by me.
Oddly enough,i find myself smiling like a loony. Did i actually look so grumpy that he felt he ought to instruct me to smile? Do i always look that grumpy? Was it something i had initially devised to ward off the pervs and weirdos but now just makes me look mean and grr?
I dont know if i should try to look more approachable now ... I read about this thing called the bella figura. Its where if you look open and approachable and smiling the world will literally smile with you.

Smile. It's friday.

Thursday, 28 August 2008

Wonder is, as the music of the heart, voiceless

Here we go again, it's now been 3 weeks since my first day in Istanbul and I think I'm less melodramatic and 'woe is me' now.
This is likely due to the fact that I have already planned my next visit to Istanbul as a complete break from university when I graduate. A week of peace. On my own.

Just imagining the taste of that freedom sends mini-tingles up my spine.

I lie. But that sounds like something you'd read in a book, right?

Just thinking of my week away really gives me a sense of relief; that once I'm away from The Dictator, I won't have to put up with so many of the people that I do.
People who are friends with me (and vice versa) for the sake of having company.
I look forward to the day I can leave those people behind like lifting the dusty mantle of social formalities and leaving it on the floor the past.

For photos, click post title

More later..