I swear I have friends.

"Don't spend the night alone. Call me if your roommate doesn't take you out."

- Text from concerned friend, 8:21pm

Happy New Year guys!

Rooftop angel

Jesus Christ! in an Irish lilt

A moment of fear in the slide and scrape

Then safe.

Overdose.

Two things I thought I'd never get sick of: dessert and movies. My sojourn with two friends (like real friends, not the dessert and movies) has been one of marathon baking, channel surfing, and oversleeping. Somehow there were enough hours in two days to accommodate all these activities in excess. My waistline too is probably accommodating to the indulgences. Tea and books detox here I come.

P.S. Merry Christmas

Too many levels of brilliance and love.

Well, baste my steaming puddings!

Top Christmas movie lists are all the same, it's really quite dull. Everyone knows It's A Wonderful Life and A Christmas Story are musts, so why repeat what's agreed upon?

Here's some non-generic Christmas cheer featuring a jarringly friendly but still hilarious Blackadder and appearances by Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry and Miranda Richardson. Imagine a tea-party with Prince George, Melchard, and Queen Liz. Best tea-party ever.

While we're on the subject of the genius that is Rowan Atkinson, his bit part in Love Actually is also absolute gold.

Alan Rickman - Videoclip - Love Actually - MyVideo

"Ready in the flashest of flashes" --that is a total Blackadder moment they must have deliberately referenced. God, who needs Bing Crosby when you've got this guy's wit and charm.

All I want for Christmas.

This is currently my desktop background. Colin Firth gorgeousness aside, Love Actually is actually the best Christmas film. But Colin Firth doesn't hurt. To do: Bridget Jones viewing, which I know I will be hating at the very same time I'm lapping it up. Otherwise known as the continuation of vicariously living through romantic comedy characters to get through a solitary life winter.

No big deal.

Home alone = walking around in my underwear, feeling badass in general

Then again, I am a wuss.

It should have been a sign when I was whimpering with my scarf across half my face during "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" that I was not going to be able to handle "Black Swan." But watched and handled it I did, if barely. All this to say that it was absolutely gripping, beautiful, stunning etc. Long story short? Ballet dancer is cast as lead in "Swan Lake," goes crazy and turns into evil Black Swan. Dun-dun-dun.

Things to love?

1) Natalie Portman.

In the lead role of Nina Sayers, Portman legitly confirms in my mind that she is a stellar actor and atones for the second hand embarrassment she gave from the Star Wars movies. People can give her flak for being a privileged snot with a Harvard degree saying dumb things about the recession and eating bagels blah blah.....who the fuck cares. Girl is amazing in this, not only for pulling off the dancing (trained her ass off for a year...at 28, I don't even want to imagine the pain), but working that face on so many levels of looking shit scared without slipping into monotony or camp. In this case, Aronofsky's close ups actually serve a purpose other than gratuitous voyeuristic gazing (looking at you, Angelina Jolie in "The Tourist"). As a character, Nina Sayers is absolutely fascinating and believable, taking the archetype of Perfectionist Ballerina to a whole new level. This isn't just a typical portrait of backstage cattiness, bathroom purging and sexually charged student-teacher, student-student relationships (quick shout out to hot as fuck Vincent Cassel and Mila Kunis here). This is narcissism, insecurity, paranoia, jealousy, sexual repression and awakening all rolled into one clusterfuck of schizo-neurotic-I-don't-know-what.

Basically, any time Nina is alone and there is a mirror in the room (which is probably every 5 minutes), you know weird shit's about to go down.

Dun-dun-dun.

2) The music.

I would have put "soundtrack," except that erroneously gives too much credit to Clint Mansell's "original score." Tchaikovsky is the master here, come on. Don't tell me after listening to the above that you were't imagining yourself standing on a cliff in an angsty Titanic pose with waves crashing up beneath and fire raining down from above. Because you totally were.

Sometimes I wish classical music was still pop music to us the way it must have been to people of its own time. I'll bet Swan Lake would have been topping the charts and playing in all them classy clubs. And instead of dirty grinding people would be drunkenly and dramatically swooning, twirling and arabesquing into each other's arms. Damn, what I'd give to go to a club like that.

3) The pretty.

Rodarte's costume design

Okay, so the whole Manichean imagery and colour schemes were kind of in your face and literal (white=good! black=evil! pink=childhood!) but between the gorgeous dresses and makeup, ghostly lighting and grainy cinematography, you've got something of an aesthetic feast going on. Which really complicated the viewing experience for a wuss like me trying to strategically orient my scarf.

How to make Big Decisions.

There is stress that motivates and stress that suffocates.

There is stress that propels and stress that weighs.

There is stress that makes you want to conquer the world and stress that makes you not want to get out of bed.

There is stress that makes you a Head Bitch In Charge and stress that makes you a bitch, period.

Know the difference.

Positive visualisation.

Dear GRE,

You are going to get your ass kicked. I've had it with your soul-sucking. I've had it with you making me miserable and a depressive bitch all week. Who do you think you are, strutting around with your invisible magic elves judging how clever I am, giving me anxiety attacks. I don't fucking need this. I'm going to be heading your way tomorrow with an ego like Kanye West's to destroy you. I'm going to make you my bitch. And then I'm going to ingest a fuckload of alcohol and nicotine into my system to celebrate. I'd let you finish, except Imma finish you first. PREPARE TO DIE.

-V.

Screw(ge) plans.

"Yeah, I'm going to be alone over Christmas, watching Bridget Jones and eating Ferrero Rochers."

this is the fantasy

to live in champagne's bubbly

jazz in jazz beats take me back to the 60s

blow kisses to necks of lovers of nobodies

linger on skins for minutes of eternity

mother don't matter

father don't bother

brother do better don't fall for this family

don't give up on me but please forget me

don't give up on me but shame me then leave me

city engulf me, paris adopt me

pour me a sparkling drink of lonely

light up my lungs my sex my body yes

elevate then deflate me

Maternal instincts.

"So I was talking to [someone's mum] the other day, your friend whatshername Connie is going to London for the holidays."

"I know. And I think Lydia's back in HK already."

"Oh right, isn't it like her 'summer' vacation? That's a long time she has off. She should visit you, ha!"

"Well you know, she only has one plane ticket to spare. Plus, I think her family wants her home."

I don't think she got the hint.