Karma : A sparkly, gold coated unicorn

I'm not actually sure if what I mean is in actual fact karma, but the title would have been less catchy or more like a tired old film title if I'd called it something more woolly and meandering. *Looks at current title. Narrows eyes at unicorn reference.* Ok. I know what you're thinking. But describing it as a sparkly, gold coated mythical creature is apt. Truly. I actually also wanted to photoshop myself onto a picture of a unicorn but my in design skills are non-existent and my drawing skills something small children snort with derision at. (Side note: In looking for a Captain fantastic picture of a unicorn on Google I came across - next to a dandy cowboy of a unicorn complete with 'tache and monocle - not one but two pictures of Barack Obama wrestling a bear whilst on a unicorn. Naked. I'm still trying to work out what the artist was trying to say, other then: PLEASE TOP UP MY CRAZY PILLS I JUST WOLFED THE LAST BOTTLE TO SUMMON THIS LITTLE BEAUTY.)

So. Karma, or it's lesser known brother - God of Looking Out For You - is great.

Something really embarrassing happened to me yesterday. We're talking *winces* hurl yourself off something very tall onto something sharp and pointy embarrassing. It materialised technologically but was, nevertheless, a muff punch of a blunder. I took a tentative toe dip into the slightly-cheeky-but-socially-accepted world of phone sex yesterday. I say toe dip, because I wasn't brave enough to actually call. Yep. I'm not a prude, but I am aware of my, erm, limitations. I am clumsy. I talk too much. I am as subtle as an escaped loon wielding a gun at your face. I am blah blah blah the list goes on... This is how I imagine a phone sex conversation of mine to go down.

Guy: So. What are you wearing?

Me: Oh, just my old leggings and an 'I ate a kilo of ribs at Thundergun rib house, watch out or I'll eat you too' tshirt.

*Awkward pause*

Me: Oh I see. Start again. Um, I'm wearing red, crotchless panties. Wait. Is that too far? Can one go too far in a conversation aimed entirely at getting the other person off? Should I say a thong instead? Are thongs very 90's?? *trails off* Maybe we should have a safe word. Like in S&M. Not that I've done S&M. Just seen it on tv. Normal tv that is, not weird porno tv. Though I suppose you've probably watched porn before so that's fine. No judgement here. Out of interest do you store all your porn on your external hard drive (they've come down in price so much over the last few years) or do you do it old school with magazines?

This is the part where the poor sod on the other end would hang up and subsequently reach for the bottle.

Nope. I sent a text. I spent a good thirty minutes composing those cheeky one hundred and sixty characters and sent it off, smug as only a first timer can be. NAILED IT, my inner me squeaked.

A few hours passed.

I started to worry that inner whore had got carried away and punched in the wrong number, sending it to someone else entirely. My stomach flip flopped and fizzled into a puddle as I checked, sweaty palmed, that I'd sent it to the correct person. (Image of self having to calm down a bemused and frankly upset Grandmother racing through my mind.) It was correct. Odd.

A few more hours passed. And the night. And then some more hours after that.

Oh dear. Was my slutty sms in fact totally rubbish? Checked it again. Nope. (I actually blushed a bit.) So... *reality of situation sinks in* Did I send a dirty message to a red-blooded male and get NO RESPONSE?! Yes. Yes, I did. Felt faintly vomit-y after that little eye popper of a conclusion. The real life equivalent of this would be like me trying to creep into his bed, all saucy like, before he kicked me out shouting UGH NO THANKS, BOG OFF at me.

But along came the Karma unicorn to save the day!

First, my bus was on time this morning. A small but definitely noteworthy event. Then, I went on to National Express to buy a train ticket from Norfolk to London at the end of December - inner dread settling on my breakfast as I realised my rail card had expired and rail prices had gone up by nightmarish proportions - and it cost me EIGHT POUNDS. Read it and weep my friends. I felt like I was sticking it to the man! Well, the train man at any rate. But wait, it gets better. Someone at work had a birthday and bought in a bowl, nay - a bucket, of mini doughnuts. I am the kind of person who hops wildly up and down when presented with free food. Free mini doughnuts?? I practically exploded in a shriek of sugary coated happiness before someone pointed out that all the creatives are getting treated to a freebie breakfast at Primi tomorrow morning by some production house. Get. Out of. Town. I also realised that a killer song I've been trying to remember for ages so I could download it, actually already existed in my iTunes. And then a fellow advertising mule mate of mine brought it to my attention that we now live closer to each other and must, must, must go and watch the new Harry Potter together. Dressed in cloaks.

Thank you Karma unicorn. I may have been spurned sexually but you fired lasers of awesomeness from your twirly horn of loveliness at me today.

Oh and it's two for one burgers tonight at Spur. Hells yeah.

****

Following day: the karma unicorn has come up trumps A - GAIN. Had my annual review this morning where I managed to wangle both a raise and a bonus out of my especially smiley ECD. Twinkly, lollipop flavoured rockets of magic are zoom zoom zooming towards me. Happy days.

your ears will have a FIELD DAY

I'm not a particularly attentive blogger. At all. Part of it is the sorry acknowledgment that the content will merely be an explosion of erratic, giddy words falling on top of one another detailing, in the main, food. And possibly the odd half hearted stab at a current affairs topic that will invariably lead back to, yes, food. The other part of it is that I am also actually lazier than I realise. This does make sense, however, as presumably most lazy people don't realise they're lazy. So technically it's not my fault. *trails off confusedly...*

Anyway.

I want to leap onto my friends' musical bandwagons and parrot my latest recommendations. I understand that some may consider this *gesticulates inverted comma signs wildly* copying, but I live under a rock and am simply not cool or quick enough to discover music on my own. Sadly, I seem to have a friend that EVERY TIME I proudly produce a song or a new artist to he's already got their album, read the latest interview in The Guardian and is going to see them, actually, in an intimate gig tomorrow night. His raised eyebrows and skinny jeans ooze louche. Louche people are the movers and shakers of the music industry. Not me, the personification of an over excitable springer spaniel.

So.

The five favourites my ears are loving listening to right now are:

James Blake - CMYK

Crystal Castles - Not in Love ft Robert Smith

LCD Soundsystem - Dance Yrself Clean

Pariah - The Slump

The xx - Basic Space (Pariah remix)


James Blake's voice is raw and earthy. Shut your eyes and drink in the plinky intro that moves deliciously into a sultry, dub step-y beat. His cover of Feist's "Limit to your Love" is, simply, beautiful and well worth a listen. Music for a long, dark bus journey along London's lamp lit streets. Crystal Castle's, "Not In Love," makes you warm and fuzzy in all the right places - Robert Smith's voice conjuring images of broken hearted teenagers crooning to his posters plastered over their bedroom walls. Gorgeous. As for LCD Soundsystem their new album, "This Is Happening" is beautifully crafted. Couldn't decide which track to put up as have been blasting the whole album through my earphones to be honest. But the whole thing is effortlessly cool and the music heaves and swells and fizzes as it dances through your body. It won't disappoint. Lastly there's Pariah, another young 'un playing with similar sounds to Blake. His remix of The xx's "Basic Space" is utter euphoric bliss, and his tunes are unassumingly beautiful, melodic yet twitchy.

There's also a Hot Chip "We Have Remixes" album coming out which promises to be very good - whack your email address into this link and get the Time Machine Remix Edit of "Hand Me Down Your Love" by Todd Edwards. Boom. Enjoy.

Over and out.

(See? Springer spaniel.)