FAAAAAAABRIC.

So Me and Cheryl got off to a rather debauched evening of sleaze and drink at Farringdon's (and London for that matter) Faaaaaabric. Me and my friends like to pronounce it that way to honour a certain German girl who has rather crazy pronunciation!

Akiko Kiyama was absolutely fantastic. We stayed in Room 1 and just danced and danced and just danced! I remember I pissed off some Japanese girls because I was that wasted, I kept shouting random Japanese phrases I'd acquired over the year.

'Toshokan e ikimasu ka?'

'Chichi wa nan sai desu ka'

'Chokore-to ke-ki ga suki desu!!!'

Which literally translate to, 'Are you going to the library?', 'How old is your father' and 'I like chocolate cake'. hahaha. They were such a miserable bunch but the rest of the drugged up crowd were letting their hands and hips do allll the talking.


I believe the guy with the ridiculous hoop around his neck asked me for ecstasy...

This guy was part of the Japanese lot...he still manages to put on a very good subservient Asian look whilst drunk.

Cheryl <3

KIYAMA-SAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Stalking Streets

Is it me or does anyone else find the rain of today and yesterday refreshing and invigorating? Just feeling the wet wind brushing against one's face is so satisfying; being at one with the elements marks a certain fragility of man's relationship with nature.

I lazily removed myself from bed at 11am but in defence I had perhaps the most uncomfortable night's sleep ever; constantly turning over like as if i were in a freshly pressed tortilla wrap! But I didn't start the day without much energy...my English breakfast with OJ was later followed with a Pret Latte that AWAKENED THE SENSES (those familiar with You Tube's Chris Crocker will understand!).

Seeing as Dominique's just started work at Banana Republic, it was fitting for a Friday afternoon to go for a stroll around Central and pop in to see her. I have to admit, the store is impressive and does not contain the self-sustaining sleeze as in Abercrombie's store; as soon as you step into the latter you feel as if you're in an elaborate porn set or club where both sexes share toilet cubicles with each other...hmm!!!

Dom looked like a real BR girl; hair tied back, dressed in black and wearing her comfortable Ugg boots. I was wary of talking to her whilst on shift so we scheduled a coffee for her 'lunch' break at 6pm. And what followed that, was a 3 hour trek around W1, taking photos, braving the momentary hail and I discovered this amazing Nordic bakery just on Soho Square. Ohh how my heart leaped as I saw its sign. Those of you who know me well are well-acquainted with my obsession with Norway and most certainly Sweden; in the people, the food and absolutely the cold climate (I like to be so cold it amounts to nothing less than torture through freezing...).

The window display in Liberty's; collaborating with V&A featuring an exhibition on the Chinese toy industry.



Picture of Soho Square just as i left the Nordic Bakery. Hailing had stopped at this point!
I love this picture because it reminds me of the States so much.



Shop on Beak Street that caught my eye.

Before passing the shop above, I randomly popped into a hairdressers called 'Tommy Guns' and booked myself an appointment to get my Korean wig/bird's nest tended to. It was quite funny as i literally imposed myself on the poor guy at the reception.

"Hello, can i book an appointment now or does it have to be by phone?"
"Uhm, you can do it now, sure"
"Great. Do you have anyone who is proficient with Asian Hair?"

At which point he paused and looked up from his appointment book. I'm sure he must have been thinking, 'Who the fuck says proficient in a hair salon? Who is this joker?'. Of course he met me with a rather sincere. "That would be Gareth". And so, after a rather awkward moment like as if it were being translated from some other language, I have a date with Gareth and his scissors!!! It does feel funny as i haven't been to any other hairdresser other than my Mancunian one since 2005. I'm very monogamous with hairdressers and anyone who gives good head gets my vote.

The warmth from the heating is making me drowsy so pardon me as i collapse on the table.

Fusion of Heart to Work.

WAHHHH. In the library at the moment with a paper due Monday and guiltily, I have half the Amazon rainforest sat in front of me in Jstor high quality PDF print? - click yes - format.

But it's all good! I'm so buzzing right now after a ravenous Pret a Manger session with Dominique and sure to see Habon at some point during this mammoth library session of mine.

I've taken inspiration from Linda and Kharunya to just start taking my camera around with me and taking pictures of things. As the saying goes, a picture speaks a thousand words and what better than to hold to our hearts vivid images of the things we love, the things that imbue us with inspiration and the small things that make us tick.

It could be premature to say but I'm feeling things click into place. Naturally, i wish it happened earlier on in the year where this enthusiasm to self-improve gained momentum but to concentrate on this would be to defeat the object of having reaching this positive conclusion now. 

And so I must return to, 'The Conditions for Export Led Growth' by Buffie. But there's the small distraction of wanting to watch a Family Guy episode i just downloaded...

Art Room, What Art Room?

Oh what a fine day is. Despite the ever stoic expressions being worn on peoples' faces as a knee-jerk response to the rain and the wind, I can't help but feel alive; the rain against my skin and the wind rushing through my hair. I'm not suggesting at all it gives me an adrenaline rush equal to bungee jumping but just physically feeling the elements draws me closer to nature.

I've been in the SOAS library art room (which  i only knew existed 2 minutes ago) studying with Rachael and I can immediately gauge the hostility of others to myself and her as we exchange notes like as if at high school and as i try to subtly, but unsuccessfully, peel apart a packet of Oreos.

Surprisingly, it isn't like a blast furnace today and my jeans are not sticking to the chair. There's the added bonus of also not sitting next to a 'on the large side' bloke who hasn't been introduced to the joys of Lynx. I tend to wonder whether odorous people get married but that's out of the realms for this blog.

4 more days separate me now from the end of the term. I can't believe this is it. 2 years effectively completed, with exams and practice tests waiting to greet countless others on the other side of Easter Break. I don't want to invoke the classic cliche of 'Where does the time go', I know we all feel somewhat displaced by knowledge of not applying our time in the best way now and then, but I don't feel there's a need for such a clinical treatment of time that is synonymous with having to be constantly productive. That would be TOTALLY UN-SOAS.

I must return to my work as the Draconian librarian hovering in and out of the art room is some what making me nervous that amounts to nothing less than 'YOU THERE, STOP PRACTICING FREE-SPEECH ON BLOGSPOT AND GET ON WITH YOUR WORK" to be belched from her ever-unkind mouth.

Congratulations to Nizam and Marya for their election to the SU. It's fair to say i'm tired of national politics being perpetually thread into the fabric of the SU.

NIZAMARAMAAAAAA. *ahem* 

Blossoms are upon us.

WOW WOW WOW, and no I'm not making a reference to the drab song Kylie has just released but the ridiculous fact i'm still awake at 2.45 in the morning. How i will look back on these days fondly as the time i frittered my youth away with each click on a website link and of course, 'amounting-to-nothing' facebook activity (i used the quote marks for a reason!). But i will remark to myself during my mid-life crisis just how good these days were!

The African cultural show is definitely going to be the highlight of the coming week. It's comes naturally for me to make the assertion it's frankly, going to be fan-bastardly-tastic because I know first hand just how much effort has gone into setting everything up. Seyi's going to be singing as well which means my desire to go is absolutely COMPOUNDED; ever since knowing her at the start of SOAS, I've been there every step of the way with her public singing appearances and extra requests made of me...I'm not going to stop that now; I want to be carried away by the tone in her voice and melt like a block of butter sitting on Nigella Lawson's kitchen top as Seyi pushes her sultry words through my frankly thin body. I could make a damn good Brita filter but I don't think that's particularly marketable given hygiene standards.

Having just finished my Japanese work, I'm surprised I can type in a manner that flows...i tend to slur and my sentence construction just breaks down. Most people tend to think i'm drunk when i speak to them after 2 hours in the Japanese class every Wednesday. Naturally, this is made worse by the 2 hours of friggin' Econometrics afterwards. The popular notion that, 'TV rots the brain', I feel, is equally applicable to Econometrics...not only does it rot the brain but it completely screws over your emotionality whereby you feel completely unable to talk to people afterwards. hmmm.

Virgin Active beckons tomorrow. They have repeatedly called me to confirm my account details since Saturday seeing as they repeated failed to clear. I thought i'd given them my right details but Abbey had to make me look stupid seeing as the account number printed on my card is not the one on my bank statements. So a lip-biting apology ensued and now i have full time gym membership that i seek to use to substitute either facebook time or generally getting rid of the hideous amount of energy I have locked away. It's like this morning, Jo woke me up and told me to check the news...and i jumped out of my bed with still-fuzzy eyes after learning Hillary has polished Obama off in Ohio and Texas. That sudden burst of energy was the only reason why i went to Japanese today. Otherwise? I would have just lingered in my cot of a bed and wrapped myself in my duvet like a slug and proceeded to run around the flat assuming this state when everybody had left.

I can hear the birds singing which means its probably best for me to take to sleep like Peter Stringfellow takes to wearing his thongs. The dirty git.