Seven Things I Want To Do Before I Die:
1. Lose weight and get fit (the eternal goal)
2. To become less angry at the world (my inner gothy existentialist is alive and well and kicking bloody hard)
3. See the world (but only with the proviso of staying in 5* hotels with no backpackers of any sort anywhere in sight, daaaallinnn’)
4. Make my own jam and chutney (in a huge farmhouse kitchen with all my beautiful, chubby, grubby, little children hanging on my apron strings while my artist husband worships me slavishly – hurrah!)
5. See the Aurora Borealis with my family at my side while scattering some of my dad’s ashes because he never bloody got to see them before he died.
6. Write a play, direct a play and produce a play and see them all performed (to critical acclaim, of course!)
7. Take over the world….mmmmwwwhhhhaaaahhhhaaaa *strokes pussy* [insert you own jokes here]

Seven Things I Cannot Do:
1. Saying “no thank you, I’d like a diet coke” to offers of alcohol
2. Juggle (for this I am most happy)
3. Speak any foreign language (despite trying too, these things generally don’t stick in my head…apart from being able to ask for 2 cheese sandwiches in Dutch – I learnt that one when my brother and I ran like feral wolf children in Amsterdam one summer when we were 11 and 9 but that’s another story involving dope plant jungles, dirty old Arab men, our first glimpse of porno, canal boat robbing smack heads and a certain Mr Heiner Muller!)
4. Walk past a comic book shop without just ‘popping in’ and buying something
5. Be in the same room as a moth for any period of time (the horror, those dusty, flappy wings, I’m retching just thinking about them)
6. Avoid collecting anything shiny and/or glittery (magpie genes methinks). I have boxes full of ribbons, buttons, glitter and stars
7. Trust a Tory. I think that I actually have a physical repulsion to them. From Maggie stealing my milk (Maggie Thatcher, Milk Snatcher!) when I was just about to graduate to being head milk girl and my dad punching the TV when Maggie got voted in the early 80’s I have been moulded into a Tory hater. I get so upset when I find out that people have voted Tory that I have actually had to disown some acquaintances (I wouldn’t call them friends under any circumstances). Mind you don’t get me started on New Labour

Seven Things I Can Do:
1. Click my jaw and my fingers
2. Count to 31 on my hand when the thumb = 1, first finger = 2, middle finger = 4, ring finger = 8 and the little finger = 16. This is something my dad taught me and my brother to do one very boring day and it’s become a habit that I can’t stop doing when bored!
3. Knit badly
4. Sew reasonably well
5. Remember stupid pop facts that I read in Smash Hits when I was a little person.
6. Remember stupid indie facts that I read in NME or Melody Maker when I was a little older person
7. use random lines from Lee and Herring, Vic and Bob, Eddie Izzard, Bill Hicks or The Mighty Boosh routines to sum up any situation that I may find myself in (also well used to distract people from your naughty behaviour:

Boy/f *angry voice*: “why did you just do that?”

Boo *moon voice from Boosh*: “’cos I’m the moooon”

Boy/f *moon voice from Boosh*: “the full moon?”

Etc…

I allow you to admire my cunningness…)

Seven Things That Attract Me To….. Blogging:
1. I’ve always kept a diary and I’ve moved into the modern age, dudes
2. Visualised ranting (with pictures!)
3. I like the idea of clicking back and seeing how I was previously without raking through old storage boxes to find my diary from that period
4. I wanted to write a novel by the time I was 21 but I didn’t achieve that aim, so all of you must suffer my inane rants instead
5. eerrrh
6. errhh, ok, ok
7. My huge, glittery, rock star-like ego told me to do it.

Seven Things I Say Most Often:
1. ”Fuck off”
2. ”Fuck you”
3. ”No fucking way!”
4. ”You little shit”
5. ”To be fair…”
6. “Hello, [insert company name], how can I help you?”
7. ”No problem” (esp. when it clearly is a problem!)

Seven Books That I Love:
1. Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis
2. The Secret History by Donna Tartt
3. Anything by Philip Ridley - His kids books are fantastic, he truly is a Roald Dahl for the misunderstood generation. His grown up stuff is fantastic too (dirty reality mixed with beautiful, magical, fairy tales)
4. The Perfect Fool by Stewart Lee – a wonderful novel, laugh out loud funny and sob out loud sad.
5. Fuse: The Selected Work of Patrick Jones – despair, decay, the horrors of modern living and badly rhyming poetry – honestly, what more do you need from a book?
6. Self help – anything to try and make me into a better person because I know that I’m evil incarnate. I need these books to tell me that I eat too much, that I eat the ‘wrong’ foods, that I get too stressed, that I’m not creative enough, that my emotions are blocked, that the bullying I suffered as a child means that I can’t connect to people…Gillian McKeith, Julia Cameron et al you make my life not worth living.
7. Cook books with nice pictures, no Delia/Jamie/Nigella/etc I’m never going to get around to making that food but damned if you’re going to stop me buying your books and using them as torture implements/pornography (delete appropriate, according to mood and current diet limitations)

Seven Movies That I Watch Over and Over Again:
1. Rumblefish - slow moving, black and white except for the odd important colouring, beautiful, beautiful, please watch this film
2. Hairspray - Fat girl wins comp and fights racism alongside all the panache and joy of a John Walters film. Fantastic!
3. The Passion of Darkly Noon - Brendan Frazer all messed up, how yummy. Think of a really hot St Sebastian and you’re not even close!
4. Anything with Christopher Walken in - I mean anything – I’ve even watched the numerous rubbish films
5. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - reminds me of many a night out
6. Cry Baby - beautiful 1950’s Johnny Depp with a tattooed tear, quiff and leather jacket…what can I say, we all have our weaknesses
7. Anything by Hayao Miyazaki - wonderful, bewitching coming of age stories to be enjoyed by kids and adults alike…

Seven People I’ll Try Passing This On To:
I doubt that 7 people read my blog!

During a bit of an ego moment I did a search on my name and look what I found!

National Kilburn Ballroom, London, Friday 11th Dec 1992
From: Teenage Suicide fanzine by Boudicca Lee Maloney

The first thing that hit me on the way to the concert was how friendly most Manic Street Preacher fans are. Not having ever been to the National Ballroom before, my friend and I were completely lost so we asked a lad for directions. He began to jump up and down and said "Oh great, you like the Manics. I'm going I'll take you there. Which one do you fancy?? etc".

We got there just as the Disco Assassins got on stage. No-one was very impressed with them. Next up were The Mouth. They were a lot better than the DA's both musically and performance wise.

When the Manics eventually came onstage the whole place went completely mad (thankfully, I didn't go down the front this time. I was determined to see them, not the back of some sweaty tall lad)

The whole show was amazing. The hilight being Nicky's rendition of 'I wanna be loved by you'. I suppose I'd better mention Nicky's controversial comment about Michael Stipe. Well it did piss me off even though I agree with the reasoning behind it because AIDS shouldn't be used as a way of getting publicity (even when it is bad) I know people who have lost lovers and friends through AIDS and others who just sit there watching loved ones die 'cos they can't do anything to save them. However, I'm sure Stipe isn't that upset about it and who else does it really affect, apart from the music press that is. No one. No one cares what other people say anymore. There's no real enjoyment from speech. Songs, however are different, they're so much more eloquent than the spoken word. I think that's enough of being serious, I'll get straight back to the review.

All of the band looked wonderful (not that you could see Sean, he was that far back) Richey was very glamorous in silver trousers and a netted top. James was in the usual white jeans and tee-shirt. Nicky had his pink shirt on with pictures of Marilyn plastered onto it and his black plastic trousers on.

The end song, Motown Junk was wonderful with Richey, James and Nicky really throwing themselves around. It was definitely the best I've seen them at for a while and I can't wait for the next tour - if they haven't split up by then, ha! ha!

Boudicca's editorial: Hello! Being only 15 years old I'm expected to be either into Take That or crap indie bands, but I hate them all and love the Manic Street Preachers. Not are they the only band that has really said anything to me in my lifetime, but they're the only intelligent band around. It was such a relief when I found that other people under 40 read the Beat Generation, William S Burroughs and other great writers and poets alike. So, in an effort to reach people I took this opportunity to produce a Manics fanzine as part of my GCSE in Media Studies. Special thanks to Fiona who helped me a lot.

My Goth past is a postive thing, hurrah!

I haven't been on the Manics Website for ages but after the weekend memories and Xfm Manchester interview, I had a quick look and found this on the top of the news section...I'm over excited!

"If September is your favourite month
If you love the sound of a typewriter
If you waste hours in stationary shops
If you watch BBC4
If you avoid crowds
If you adore the smell of fire
Then come join Nicky Wire's secret society"

Yes to all but BBC4 although I often wish I did have it...but we haven't even got the land line or internet sorted at the new home yet let alone sorting anything else out...

I had a lovely weekend in Hastings...we arrived around 9.30pm on Friday night and got driven up the hill to receive lovely, warming stew and dumplings served with red wine and hilarity. Admire mother's new nesting instinct - the study is cleared, painted beautifully and the biggest welsh dresser you have ever seen adorns one wall. The clutter of amusing, mis-matched crockery all over it. Dinner was followed by the new game in the Maloney household 'Therapy'. I've never played a game like it, no-one has learnt the rules yet so every move is followed by "is that group therapy or are you on my couch?". You have to pass the stages of life (Infancy, Childhood, adolescence, etc) by asking a variety of questions about yourself, the others around the board (some of which can cause offensive - who around this board was the ugliest baby?) and dubious questions about dubious studies from the 1900's! Lots of fun indeedy.

Saturday was spent pottering in the old town and new buying new things. We then met up with Mum and Lodger and went to all you can eat Chinese and stuffed ourselves silly. Lazy afternoon with Inspector Morse (weird teens taking drugs and rave episode - WTF!?) followed by lazy drooling over Cillian Murphy in 28 Days Later (much to the disgust of boyf who think he looks like a starving child...with girls eyes).

Lazy Sunday breakfast was followed by a drive to a new walking place, during the drive we found a tape that I had made for my dad with brit pop on one side and Manic Street Preachers b-sides and rarites on the other - the tape was covered in quotes from the songs and listening to it made me very happy indeed.

We stopped at Seven Sisters and Cuckmere Haven for a long stroll to the sea and back:


The stroll was followed by a well earned cream tea (3 scones and clotted cream!) in the cafe near the visitors centre. We took a different way back and drove past the Long Man of Wilmington:

We spent the drive back to Hastings discussing the different theories about the origins on the man...are the poles gates or dowsing sticks?

Return to London wasn't too bad and after the walk during the day I managed to get a good night sleep and was feeling pretty good when I woke up this morning. Positive vibes are all around...it's a good time to get myself sorted and back in the right direction. Emails will be sent, difficult people replied to, phone calls made and the gym beckons (there's the extra winter store of fat to be removed!)

The Lunch Club - Baron's Court Theatre

If you get the chance to go and see this play. Do. I went last night and it's really enjoyable (even though we did get lost in west London to get there!). It's laugh out loud, dark humour mixed with 'issues' arising from a racist attack. It discusses attitudes and prejudices but in an interesting, personal, non-preachy way. A really enjoyable evening.

It's also my friend Justin's first professional show as director, so go support him!

Clubbing on Friday night was lots of fun - I didn't leave the house until Sunday afternoon due to extreme hangover!

Main memories of the night:

• Sailor Jerry's rum
• Frank Sinatra glass collector looking down my corset at any time he could...
• Boy/f's wonderful knife thrower outfit
• Matthew's very dapper, shiny shirt
  
• Gary on nipple check with Damaris!
• Too drunk new friends that had to be escorted home before midnight
• Hels, Jess and I biting each others boobs (affectionately!)
• Flowers from Chris K and Matthew being left in the cloakroom and they were still perfect at the end of the night
• Missing bus stops due to fights with locals
• Oh my god, the hangover....

YAY, it's my birthday today (and I'm not finding it quite as hard as I though it might be). I've been convinced to invite friends around for birthday tea this evening and go clubbing on Friday; both should be fun. I've received a lovely silver charm braclet with a theatre mask charm from my mum:
I have to go and pick up my pressie from baby bro at one of my fave shops Bnevertoobusytobebeautiful. They are the grown up version of Lush and I often spend too much money on bits and bobs from there.

Not sure what I've got from the boy/f as we went shopping at the weekend and couldn't find anything suitably exciting (we did everywhere on Oxford St and in Camden).

Birthday tea should be fun - fairy cakes and real coffee make me very happy indeedy.

Gosh, I am a miserable bugger aren't I? Things, as they say, can only get better. I've stopped on the valium; I have resort to Nytol every now and then but sleep is getting easier (although my bedroom stinks of lavender and various nice smelly things!). The heartache of loosing my father is still with me everyday. It's difficult to listen to some music because I know that he'd love it (or hate it!). Feelings come over me in waves during the day, sat on tube, walking down the street, working on a boring work document...it's getting better though. These thought are not always negative anymore and even sometimes make me very happy and laugh out loud at the fantastic man that was my dad!

I managed to get a few days off work and spent some 'quality' time with my young man in Brighton. I also made moves to try and resolve some issues at work - sometimes speaking up and saying 'no' is a positive thing!

I'm still a bit delicate in social situations but have managed to have some fun - thank to the Fairy Uncle for the Liberace Suits; they went down a treat at my favourite new club. We're planning to go to celebrate my birthday in March too (circus this time - might go for the old favourite of 'show girls' and get the corset out).

I had lunch today with Jess which was great (esp after 3 hr workshop on VAT!). I got to see the engagement ring, very flash young lady. Now, I've just got to sort out the airfare to Las Vegas in September to go to the wedding - onward Valhallens!

Apart from that in September, I have very little planned over the summer. Work, I feel, will take over slightly for summer 2006...it's exciting but scary learning all these new things to do with event and production management and general office stuff!

Still not sleeping very well. I have some valium but don't really want to take it too often. I can't really cope though, my skin is itchy, my head in banging, my throat is sore, my temper is on the shortest fuse and I cry at the smallest thing, things that I could usually cope with without any problem. People keep telling me that I'm coping well with my grief but I don't feel like I am. I'm trying to keep afloat and do things that amuse me but it's quite difficult. There's things that I'd like to do this weekend but I'm so tired that I think that I'll just end up going home and trying to sleep and gather my strength for the endless and undoubtedly heavy-going work meetings next week.

I went to go to the gym last night. Realised that I didn't have my trousers and I'm no longer at school so I don't have to work out in my pants anymore! Instead Helen and I went for a swim but got distracted by the new stadium at Mile End (opening on the 13th Feb) and I ended buying a membership on the spot because the pool was so big and beautiful! Hopefully Helen and I will force each other into visiting enough to justify the membership (and go to the Turkish more often!)

Congratulations to Lucy, Kev and Grace. A new edition to the family - Billy!

Centre Parcs highlight (and lowlights):

• not being able to find the meet up car park in Richmond for over half an hour
• Babs Streisland in the car
• getting car sick
• flirting with Euro millions boys in the petrol station
• eating too many jelly sweets
• flumes and jungle river madness
• new pj's covered in glittery fairies
• rising early to watch the sun come up over the trees and spotting more nature in 3 hours than I have in 8 years in London
• nature trail walks
• crying because I'm jealous of all the happy families (with dads!)
• watching glitter from my pj's appear all over the villa
• 100 best videos on some random tv channel - Hels and I rocking out to Guns 'n' Roses and other out rock classics
• teaching barmen to make white russians (yummy!)
• a horrible chinese dinner but with a great gang of people (6 'welsh chavs' and 6 'middle class wankers'!)
• helium balloons
• Pancake House huge pancakes covered in ice cream and apples
• Aqua Sana Spa - wonderful experience - I chilled out in the meditation room, swam in the lovely outdoor pool, steamed in two different steam rooms, zen'd out in the zen garden, sweated in the sauna and refreshed by shivering in the ice fountain. Each room had it's own theme and it were decorated really well. The Indian Blossom steam room was my favourite I think
• goodbye dinner with the 'welsh chavs'

Brilliant time all in all, I whole heartedly recommend Centre Parcs for cheap fun holidays!

I'm going to Centre Parcs this weekend with Lornie, Hels, Jess, Richie and Chris K. We booked it ages ago because we're all usually miserable in January and now I'm really looking forward to it. You do have to pay extra for just about everything but I might treat myself to a few hours in the sauna and then a treatment (or two). It will also be a chance to say goodbye to Lorna as she's moving back home to Bournemouth next Tuesday. I've no doubt that we'll keep in touch and do lots of visits but it won't be the same as popping around after work to have a cup of tea with her!

It's a very changable time. I moved out of the 'rat house' in November, Lornie's moving out next week, Carla will move to Manchester in June/July and then Hels and Jess are going to terrorise the world after the summer (or the 'eat your heart out Thelma and Louise' epic). It's all bloody change everywhere. In some ways I feel like I'm going to be stuck in London forever, I have no idea about what I'm going to do next. Boyf and I are often bored of London but I really do like our little home. God knows what will happen. Also, with all 4 best friends leaving London this year I really should think about finding some new people to amuse me of an evening!

Is buying 10 books from a charity shop out of control behaviour?

I suddenly developed a frantic need for words. I'm clamboring for poems and stories and ideas. There's a lovely charity shop around the corner from my work and there's someone wonderful that hands in interesting books all the time. This week I've discovered Michèle Roberts' short stories about appitite and desire ("when asked the perennial question 'what do you write about?' Michèle Roberts, by her own account, likes to say 'food, sex and God'"), Carlo Gebler' Caught on a Train - 3 magical stories told to Irish youth and finally Michael Coleman's Tag. The last two are 'young adults' books but they are both written really well and both have wonderful, moving moments.

Last Saturday I enjoyed the latest Peter Ackroyd programme ‘The Romantics’ on BBC. Some parts were really crass - how many times do I need to see fake blood dropping onto cobbles to get that death was a big part of the French Revolution? For gods sake it literally rained blood during some footage. David Tennant as Rousseau and David Threlfall as Wordsworth were stand outs. Samuel Taylor Coleridge 'The Ancient Mariner' always brings a lump to my throat. My dad tried to learn it off by heart once...so, I know the first part particularly well!

Alone, alone,—all, all alone;
Alone on a wide, wide sea.
The Ancient Mariner. Part iv.

On a completely different note, I went to my doctor about my depression and she gave me Seroxatine. However, after 3 days of taking it I had a massive reaction against it. I was a work and found that I was unbearably happy - I was grinning at my monitor and laughing to myself. I decided to go for lunchtime swim to calm down but by the time I'd got back I felt like I was coming up on the best pill I've ever had. I was clammy handed, nervous, excited and becoming manic. I left work and went to see Lornie for a cup of tea. I spent around 2 hours picking things up, smiling at them and being generally weird! I went home, the boyf came in and demanded that I call NHS direct immediatly. Those of you who know me personally will know that I'm not a 'happy' person persay, I have dark moods that last for ages. I'm one of those people that look glum even if I'm perfectly happy inside! NHS direct nurse was lovely and managed to talk sense to me although I was rabbiting on...the emergency doctor called me back and told me to stop taking the tablets and to come down to the local Walk In Centre. He took one look at me and gave me lots of diazepam. He told me to take 4 (!) and then take 2 more (!) before bed. However, we couldn't find an open chemist and so the boyf had to put up with me manically climbing in and out of bed around 20 x that night. The next day I spent vomiting and suffering from what felt like the worst come-down ever. On the good side, I've been taking the diazepam and am now sleeping which has improved my mood and my brain functions (I have been being a little odd recently - loosing things, forgetting things, missing meetings, putting things in stupid places). At least I'm just back to the normal level of scattiness now...

These are for my dad. It's a picture of his first orchids that he grew from bulb which he sent to me for my birthday a couple of years ago. The grief is sometimes overwhelming but I'm getting there. This has made me realise how important my boy/f and friends are to me. They've all been great through this putting up with my panic attacks, changeable moods, demands for indulgence and general rattiness. A big thank you to you all xxx.

Lunchtime distractions from the general realms of despair that are surrounding me include typing random words into search engines and linking to the websites they suggest.

Today I put in Goths and Vampires and this appeared:

"All people suspected of being goths should have their bloodcounts regularly measured. If there is a shortfall, clearly they must be participating in Vampiric and Goth-like behaviour, in which case they can be sent to a place of Christian re-education"

I love this rant so much, a great joke and look at all the outraged goths replying below. Bless 'em.

I'm barely able to function. Everything is taking twice as long as it should. I feel as though I'm walking in syrup. My throat keeps contracting so I can't breathe. I'm scared. I sob on public transport. I can't sleep. When I do finally get to sleep, I can't wake up. I'm angry. I feel like screaming. I laugh. I'm manic. I stamp my foot and shout "it's not fucking fair".

Apparently these are all natural reactions to death.

I just miss my dad so fucking much.

Paul Lee Foxall

29/05/1948 - 05/12/05

"As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent you asked for the latest party"
David Bowie, Diamond Dogs