Sinister: inside every romantic is a cynic screaming to get out

[Rachel Playforth]

so it's vd day again.  it's a problem for me.  i mean, disapproving of
everything valentine's day stands for is kind of normal and healthy if
you're a bitter single person, but what are you meant to do with your
cynicism and disapproval when you're in a warm supportive bed, i mean
relationship?  it surely appears heartless to the object of your lurve if
you say you don't believe in it and flatly refuse to give them a card (let
alone a trip to paris as bestowed on my housemate by her beau - huh, he
never took ME to paris when we were going out...)  principles and romance
just don't mix, that's the ultimate conclusion.

speaking of principles, i find the title of the manics' new single (or one
of them) ironic.  arguably, james dean bradfield in fact *lost* his soul
circa 1996.  being the first 'western' band to play in cuba also just
strikes me as a giant wanky photo opportunity, 5 residents of havana plus 89
british music journalists, 46 invited celebrities and 20 competition
winners.  well, maybe i'm not really such a cynic as all that.  i actually
like 'this is my truth...', but i wouldn't fight in a civil war for it.

having read james thorn-in-the-side's wonderful last post, it strikes me
that everyone should just stop snogging, or dreaming about snogging, or
pretending to want to snog mark casanova, so he can have time to actually
start posting again.  as laura llew can probably now testify, it's tiring
being a sinister heart-throb.  not that i'd know - men seldom make passes at
girls who wear glasses (or ones with actual real prescription lenses at
least.)

mind you, i have just stupendously proved my indiegrrl credentials by
sticking a picture of my kitten (before she became a neurotic, agoraphobic,
jaded fully grown cat) on my monitor.  i relate to johnjohn's adoration of
his dog's eyes.  i look at portia (don't ask), staring out of the picture
with utter innocence and charm, untainted by sex, death, religion or
politics, and nothing is bad.  even limp bizkit.

oh, i long for a time when wizards were narrow, foxes were pine, and berries
were idle.

i'm handing in my notice tomorrow. YAY!  no longer do i get rigorously
fucked by a company which claims to raise funds for charity but has clearly
never heard that charity begins at home.  instead i'll be working in a
language school and explaining how to kommen am bahnhof to foreign students
in neon baseball caps.

now i'm off to watch john hughes films and eat maltesers, which is how this
house has voted to spend valentine's eve.

luv archel xxx

***************************************
Rachel Playforth
'She may not be famous, but she's right' - Homer Simpson

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