Sinister: b&s are like fried chicken and here's why

[sophia katrina]

Hello beautiful people,

Just a short introduction and i promise i won't ramble. I've loved waiting 
in the nursery and reading all your posts.

My name's Sophia and I am an Artiste. I used to live in London but after i 
finished art school I had one of those moments you see in  those godawful 
made-for-tv movies where the heroine sacrifices her chance for fame and 
fortune in the big city to be home with her family on a ranch in 
Nowheresville, USA. She says no to Spielberg, sends her agent packing with a 
witty riposte, throws her mobile phone into the Hudson, Thames or equivalent 
river, appears at the front door of the run-down but homely ranch house to 
the delight of her apron-clad mom and chubby-cheeked siblings, and spends 
the rest of her life riding horses and baking pumpkin pies. Lucky for me, my 
family don't live in Nowheresville - they live in Australia, by the sea. so 
that's where i am. (Not in Perth, though, where the only other Australian 
listee seems to be. On the other side). When the traffic stops, and before 
the birds start singing, you can hear the ocean.

I'm ashamed to say that I started listening to Belle and Sebastian because 
of a boy. He was (and, i'm sure, still is) very beautiful, if that's any 
excuse, and he was also an artist, which is no excuse and honestly, I should 
have known better. I really Liked him and in one of our few conversation he 
mentioned looper and b&s. So in the spirit of 
I-must-like-everything-the-object-of-my-desires-likes, i started listening 
to Fold Your Hands Child..., and that was it. For the next few months, while 
i was writing my thesis and hanging my degree show, belle and sebastian were 
all i could listen to. It was like the food cravings a pregnant friend 
described to me: it isn't that you crave fried chicken, it's that the very 
thought of eating anything other than fried chicken makes you physically 
ill. That was how I felt about Belle and Sebastian.

Nothing ever happened with me and the beautiful boy, but what telemovie is 
complete without a dash of bittersweetness? i'm waiting for a rugged (yet 
intellectual) Nowheresville, USA cowboy to come into my life and bake 
pumpkin pies with me so my telemovie can have a happy ending. Applications 
on a postcard please!

My first post and i've already broken a promise. Please accept my very 
humblest apologies.

Sophia Katrina
X



hello beautiful people,

just a short introduction and i promise i won't ramble.

my name's sophia and i am an artiste. i used to live in london
but after i finished art school i had one of those moments you see in
godawful made-for-tv movies where the heroine sacrifices her
chance for fame and fortune in the big city to be home with her family on a 
ranch in nowheresville, nevada. she says no to spielberg, sends her agent 
packing with a witty riposte, throws her mobile phone into the hudson, 
thames or equivalent river, appears at the front door of the run-down but 
homely ranch house to the delight of her apron-clad mom and chubby-cheeked 
siblings, and spends the rest of her life riding horses and baking pumpkin 
pies. lucky for me, my family don't live in nowheresville, nevada - they 
live in a big city in australia, by the sea. so that's where i am. when the 
traffic stops, and before the birds start singing, you can hear the waves.

i'm ashamed to say that i started listening to belle and sebastian because 
of a boy. he was (and, i'm sure, still is) very beautiful, if that's any 
excuse, and also an artist, which isn't. i reallyreally Liked him and in our 
first proper conversation he mentioned looper and b&s. in the spirit of 
i-must-like-everything-the-object-of-my-infatuation/desire/lust-likes, i 
started listening to Fold Your Hands Child..., and that was it. for the next 
few months, while i was writing my thesis and hanging my degree show, belle 
and sebastian were all i could listen to. it was like the food cravings a 
pregnant friend described to me: it isn't that you crave fried chicken, it's 
that the very thought of eating anything other than fried chicken makes you 
physically ill. that was how i felt about belle and sebastian. nothing ever 
happened with me and the beautiful boy, but what telemovie is complete 
without a dash of bittersweetness? i'm waiting for a rugged (yet 
intellectual) nowheresville, nevada cowboy to come into my life and bake 
pumpkin pies with me so my telemovie can have a happy ending. applications 
on a postcard please!

my first post and i've already broken a promise. please accept my very 
humblest apologies.

sophia katrina
X

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