Of Ramblings Most Confusing Yet Enlightening

2006-09-16T10:27:00.000-07:00

So, what has happened since a nonstop assault of rock'n'roll led to those gorgeous dreams down below? More shenanigans with the boys from Velvet Revolver? Jack Black, myself and Animaniacs going back in time to aggravate some cavemen?

Actually, I've only had one more dream since then. Well, one I can remember anyway. It involved a Queen reunion concert at yet another Live Aid concert, which heated up to Jimmy Page, a violin bow, an electric guitar and about five minutes of HELL YES!

Since then, not much going on. Actually, lots going on, but I'll talk about them at a later date.

....You know what I feel like? An adventure. Something random. Just hop on a train and go wherever it takes me.

...As long as it's not Birmingham.

2006-09-02T07:48:00.000-07:00

As Sam likes to call them: "Postcards From Inside LadyMercury's Head"

I had a dream in which Velvet Revolver released a new video that was spliced with the TV show Lost. Then Scott got eaten by a land-walking shark and everyone had to go rescue him.
…And then Han Solo blew up a hotel, but that’s probably because I watched “A New Hope” last night.

DREAM II

The dude from Lost (John Locke) was a guitar legend, and he had a TV series like Surviving Nugent. Anyhoo, I was in his “class” and had to meet his standards for being an awesome rhythm guitarist.

At the end of the season, he read out all our scores to the class. A couple failed, some barely passed. When he came to me he said my technique was mediocre but that I was probably the last greatest rhythm guitarist the world would ever see…

Then there was applause, and we turn around and Velvet Revolver is there! To the adoring fans screaming, they said “We’ll take care of it” and proceeded to rock out.
And then Duff carried me around on his shoulders….

Yes, nice dream

DREAM III

I think I was a student in some old American high school. It was 1975, and A Night At The Opera had just come out. I think I was a bit of a rebel, cos when I walked into the classroom and some girl started dissing Freddie Mercury, I decked her good. And then I sat next to Jack Black, apparently my best friend and fellow Queen fan because he had a scrapbook filled with pictures he took of Freddie (some of which where CLEARLY from the 1980s ).

Then we got into a shouting match with the teacher (who was Christopher Lloyd) and then suddenly we jumped on our desks and did a rendition of Tenacious D’s ‘Tribute,’ complete with invisible drums and acoutics!!

And then we ditched school and hopped on a cartoon car to catch a train filled with kidnapped Baby Looney Tunes that were gonna be dipped in DIP (anyone who’s seen Who Framed Roger Rabbit will know what I’m talking about!).

………What in the everloving hell is up with my subconscious?

2006-08-02T04:55:00.000-07:00

Because, damnit, there are some things you feel like sharing with anyone and everyone....

I think I’ve always dreamed about you.

You make me weep with your light. You’re everything I want to be. I dream about you holding me and my soul flies.

Is this love? Really and truly? Is it supposed to hurt like this? Is it supposed to make me so happy?

And is it supposed to be this impossible? The reality kicks in, that there is no way I could ever have you. But the dreaming, however hurtful and wilful, isn’t it always better than reality? Dreaming of you, I am taken to a place where no one can hurt me. Where it is just you and me. Where you always comfort me and make me forget all my troubles.

I feel so blessed to know you, really. It’s just that I feel so strongly for you, and there is no way you can ever feel the same for me. And there is no way you can ever know.

And that’s that, isn’t it?

….

2006-07-11T07:32:00.000-07:00

Syd Barret (1946-2006)

GODDAMNITSONOFAMONKEYCRACKWHORE WHY?!!?!

This sucks.

2006-07-09T08:53:00.000-07:00

Ah man. I've only had this journal for less than....some time and already I've abandoned it.

I don't know why I can't keep online journals. Hell, I don't keep RL journals. The only journal I've actually updated on a regular basis was the one I kept during a school trip to Florence. But damnit to hell, there's only so much teenage angst a poor little notebook can take.

At any rate, hooray for summer! And hooray for the World Cup! There's gonna be a party in Europe today, either in Paris or Rome. I'm just happy it's not here. The locals in our neighbourhood can get disturbingly lairy during the football season Oo.

Anyway, methinks I shall watch the last part of the final match today. The last part meaning the ceremony for the winners. Whenever people ask me which team I root for, I always say "The one who wins." This time, I hope that the French team wins. I remember that they got a raw deal at the last World Cup for being booted out so early in the game.

And I can't say I'm sad that Brazil got kicked out this time around. They ALWAYS win. It's a bit predictable nowadays. Maybe this'll humble them something.

....Now how did I end up rambling about football?

2006-05-17T08:09:00.000-07:00

Just got back from the gym.

.....

The thought of going comatose on my bed seems very loverly right now.

ACK! The rice!!!

...Okay, the rice is fine. My wibbly legs, on the other hand....

2006-05-16T12:44:00.000-07:00

We had a house guest come over yesterday. A friend of a friend of my sister's, come to cloudy little Bournemouth for a job interview. The dude was cool. Didn't recoil in abject horror at my choice of clothing (old tattered Queen t-shirt), choice of television programming (Cinderella II) or the music in my iPod (if I have to tell you that, you haven't been paying attention!).

My sister, being the perfect host she is, insisted that the dude slept in my bedroom. That meant having to get down there and actually clean it. I mean, CLEAN it. That involved making it look as good as it did when we moved in. The involvment included: taking the vacuum cleaner under my bed and closet, emptying all the crap on my drawers, changing the sheets and pillow cases and installing a extremely girlish lamp next to the bed so it would look nice.

I even lit candles to make it smell purty. Yum.

But he was a nice bloke. I didn't talk to him much, but we did a mean whistling rendition of 'The Sound of Music.' My sister walked in on us and declared us both insane.

Right now, just waiting for 'The O.C' to start. Yes, I watch it. It's one of my guilty pleasures, as well as Hollyoaks.

I shall now pause so y'all can finish laughing.

......

Done yet?

.....

All right then.

Seeing as I don't have classes tomorrow, I'm going to stay up and watch 'Lost.' And yes, I spoil myself on their website on a daily basis, but I like to know these things. It prepares me to be sad. I actually cried while watching the episode where Charlie nearly died (I'm attached to former Hobbits).

Well, starting the show in ten minutes. Must go get ice cream out of the freezer.

Just one question: why is it raining horribly in May? The rains are reserved for April, damnit!

2006-05-15T03:42:00.000-07:00

Possible guitarpr0n draft...

MY GUITAR LOVES.....BRIAN MAY

Let it be said that I don't know how to play guitar. There: I said it. For the life of me, I cannot memorize the intricate details of plucking, strumming and the like. The most I've gotten out of a guitar was a (bad) accompaniment to the 'Sound of Silence' by Simon & Garfunkel.

I'm nothing if not useless on the guitar. That doesn't make me less deserving of liking the shattering noises it makes. The way a guitarist plays his instrument, for me, determines if he's all right in my book. Whether he smacks it around like a ragdoll, or caresses it as he would his significant other, if he can make that seismic shriek called a riff....well, that's all right by me!

Sam and WomanoftheWorld have already talked about Slash and Jimmy Page. Let me sell to you the idea of another curly-haired maestro. Commander Brian May, if you would please step up to the plate.

Grant it, the may may have the streetcred of a goldfish to you lot, and he may not be as highly revered as Sir James of Page or Lord Eric of Clapton, but come on. He's the QUEEN guitarist. QUEEN. AND he wrote some of their best songs. 'We Will Rock You,' anyone? How about a little bit of 'Flash! Ah-aaah!' ?

The 'nice guy of rock'n'roll' has a slight different story from his contemporaries. While they all bought their first guitars, he MADE his. Out of a motorcycle, that other symbol of teen rebellion. And he still plays that same guitar, the 'Red Special.' A child when Elvis exploded and a shy youth when the Beatles came out of nowhere, the man was destined to take up the calling of the rock. During his university years (where he got a scholarship to Imperial College for a degree in Astronomy and Physics. The man's a walking encyclopedia of all things cosmic!), he played in the band Smile with Tim Stafell and soon-to-be Queen drummer Roger Taylor. When Smile disbanded, Freddie Mercury took Stafell's vision, dolled it up David Bowie style, and all four members ran away with it for about twenty years (pausing in the eighties to shave its hair, ditch the make-up and give it a more arena rock look).

Brian toured with his band after Freddie died in 1991, but Queen itself was well frozen until last year when he, Roger Taylor and Free singer Paul Rodgers went on tour. I haven't seen them live, but I have the DVD. It RAWKS!!!!

That said, I didn't get into Queen until I was in boarding school. As I delved more into the music, I realised that one of the centre pieces of all the songs was the Brian May solo. Staying in tune to the song, yet drifting off enough to have its own distinct sound. Listen to the 'Night At The Opera' album, and you'll find that his guitar playing pretty much holds the thing together. And Brian's sound varies from the soft heartache of 'Love of My Life' and 'Save Me,' to the downright raunchiness of 'Fat Bottomed Girls' and 'Tear It Up.' Like Slash and Jimmy Page, he has a sound you can easily detect.

The fact that he's one of the most beautiful men I've ever laid eyes on (yes, Younger! Brian and right now. Pick your jaws off the floor.) only strengthens my opinion that this guy is a guitar god we all should pay homage to. Why? He rocks, for one thing. For another, he's got that THING that all guitar gods have, that unique thing that makes them awesome in music and real life. Slash has his immeasurable cool. Jimmy Page has that quirky charisma that is oft copied but never bettered. Jimi Hendrix was hypnotic. Brian May's own 'thing' is that on stage he's the focus of all the power of Queen. While Freddie preened like a prince, John did his own boogie and even Roger indulged in some showing off, Brian always stood still. He still does: almost ignoring all around him and staring down at his guitar as though willing it go become louder and harder. He is also unique in the fact that he's never indulged in the less avoury aspects of being a rock god. And he's truly the 'nice guy' of rock'n'roll, the one who'll actually walk over to a fan and talk for a few minutes. For all intents and purposes, Brian May is a cute, shy, and nice science nerd. That's awesome in its own way.

However, above all else, there is one more reason that Brian May is such a guitar god. One thing that sets him ahead of the pack. And that is the fifth member of Queen.

His ever-growing, ever-curly, dark mountain of hair. No hairspray needed. Nor perm, as some have claimed. The hair.

And that's all right by me.

2006-05-15T02:33:00.000-07:00

Erm.....first post redux over here.

Well, the reason the first post was so short was because my older sister wanted the computer for schoolwork. We share a flat together, and while it's fun living with her, things like working out a computer scheduele tends to invoke our wraths like no other.

In either case, bonjour. As stated, the name's LadyM, and welcome to what will be a sporadically updated and sincerely neglected little journal. I'll promise to look after it, but hey who am I kidding?

I live in jolly old England (and by jolly I mean the weather can't make its mind up, and old ladies want to kill you), and have done so for four years. An old friend of mine once called it the 'armpit of Europe.' On days like these (raining when it's supposed to be summer, and also COLD), I must agree with him wholeheartedly.

I'm in university, which means I'm almost perpetually broke but continue to spend money like I've won the Rollover. School-wise, I'm doing very well. Social-wise, I might as well be dead. The last time I went out, all dressed up and nice and of my own free will? My prom. And that was two years ago. (I say of my own free will, because my sister and her friends dragged me to a club in Birmingham last summer. They weren't ready to leave until two in the morning, by which time I would have done something thoroughly unpleasant on the dancefloor).

Me, personally? Well, I love rock'n'roll. No. Seriously. I LOVE ROCK'N'ROLL. I can't play guitar for beans and know next to nothing about the obscure bands that real music aficianados can tell you about, but rock music..... moves me. It is bloody unbelievable. If I had been raised by werewolves and had come screaming out of the jungle, I would know what to do if someone gave me an electric guitar. I would just frickin' know. This uncanny love has manifested itself from childhood. My parents never played anything other than gospel music, but I would always break out into a little smile if one of the Christian rock bands' songs had a guitar solo in the middle.

This all exploded when I heard Guns N Roses. And by exploded, I mean that my nine-year old self fell head over heels in puppy love with Slash. Oooh, Slash. That curly-haired cup of caramel chocolate. But I didn't have the access to feed my rockmania until I got shipped off to boarding school (NOTE: the food IS as bad as the survivors say it is). There, with the power of broadband that I didn't have to pay for, a budget of £100 a month that I didn't have to spend on food (unless we had 'Sunday Roast.' READ: horse meat), and my equally rockin' friends, it all just went on from there. Queen. Led Zeppelin. Bon Jovi (don't laugh). Velvet Revolver. Rolling Stones. Eric Clapton. My GOD, those were the days!!!

So, basically, if you know me, you will know this. You will also know that I have a fetish for blueberry muffins. You will also know that I cannot abide a messy living space (odd, considering that I consider the non-drug induced crazy days of Keith Moon's hotel trashings to be art), nor do I like chapped skin. Other things of note: I hate rap, not too fond of pasta, will eat anything once, love Disney movies, mafia movies, Top Gear and all sorts. You will also know that I have never had a boyfriend in my life (not even had a first kiss), and that I would really like to change that. In fact, I hope THE ONE's the tall, geeky, big-nosed, curly-haired, shy Scottish and/or Irish man of my dreams.

.....

Have I said too much? Ah hell, it's the first post. That's probably the most you can expect from m Ramblings. Now, I gotta go write an article on Brian May (quite possibly the most beautiful man on Earth. Yes, more beautiful than Slash. And Jimmy Page. Stop that!) for guitarpr0n. Go check it out, if you wanna.

So, farethee well, young Padawans and Hobbits.

May the 4th be with you (*waves to Sam*)

FIRST POST OMGYAY!

2006-05-13T14:56:00.000-07:00

*ahem*

Y'all can call me Sayo-chan, but LadyM will do ^^