say cheese

i'm tired tonight.

have a snapshot of my life as a SOTD substitute? sorry.

I AM...
-listening to: franz ferdinand's new album. (favourite track) also, THE VIRGINS. alsoalsoalsooooo, i can't believe i've jumped on the be your own pet bandwagon just as they've disbanded. sob.

-watching: SKINS!!! okay, the new season isn't as good as the last two, not even close...but dammit, giraffe-necked freddie's a cutie...
ooh and it looks like fear and loathing in las vegas is on film4 in 10 minutes...might watch the second half of that if i get my history of art essay done in time.

-reading: just finished breaking dawn, the fourth and final part of the twilight saga. yes...i am a PROUD MEMBER of the twilight fanclub. anyway, now i'm tackling proust's 'the way by swann's' (à la recherche du temps perdu), which has a few more intellectuality points than twilight, i guess. i usually eat books up like they're oreos (mm), but lately i've only had time to read on the tube, so i'm slower than a sleep-deprived snail. only 58 pages through so far >_<

-eating: chocolate a plenty. dad has been forcing it on me since my little fainting episode yesterday. mm, phenylethylamine. oh, and anything that tastes of artificial cherries (cherry soothers, cherry tictacs...)

-wearing: my newish clare college hoodie :) thank you dom! plus my blue teacosy hat, pretty much every day, cause it keeps my ears warm. the mercury on the thermometer is currently at about 4ºC but it feels warm, due to the fact it read -12ºC a couple of weeks ago. oooh...give bloc party's mercury a listen if you haven't already, it's brilliant. another grower. i speak from experience.

and OH GREAT i've just stereotyped myself. typical brit behaviour, talking about the weather.

one last thing: read this yeats poem, it's so sad and lovely...

never give all the heart
never give all the heart, for love
will hardly seem worth thinking of
to passionate women if it seem
certain, and they never dream
that it fades out from kiss to kiss;
for everything that's lovely is
but a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
o never give the heart outright,
for they, for all smooth lips can say,
have given their hearts up to the play.
and who could play it well enough
if deaf and dumb and blind with love?
he that made this knows all the cost,
for he gave all his heart and lost.

right. i'm going to go collapse into bed now, armed with my moleskine notebook, a pen and a printout of botticelli's birth of venus. it's essay time! zzzzzzz. <3