It's all go, go, go

'The party never stops on Selina Kyle's answering machine'.

Many many many things have happened since I wrote earlier in the week. So many in fact that I am starting to feel like I am stuck in a kind of time warp with events unfolding at an unprecedented pace.

First and foremost is my new job. Yes, already. These lovely people at Hexia and I have agreed to swap money for me doing writing and internet things. Its a full time grown up job which means, provided my 3 month trial goes well, I won’t have to worry about money anymore. As I am sure you will have guessed, this makes me very happy indeed. I cannot even begin to pretend that I am sad about leaving the hotel work. Oh no.

I won’t write too much more about what exactly it is I will be working on as I am not sure of the confidentiality etc, but I will tell you I am looking forward to working there, not only have I heard good things about the company but 2 of the members of the band Sometime, my namesake, work there too. Happy happy joy joy.

So in celebration on Wednesday night the Fox and I pootled to Sirkus to see the incredible Ghostigital play in close proximity. They managed to scare and excite the masses as normal and afterwards Curver djed some incredible 90ness ravetastic which I danced to until my makeup slid off. He included Kiki-Ows ‘Too Sexy’ track, to which people danced and to which I basically squealed like a teenage girl over.


Many many beers were drunk, as was the black stuff until my head started to spin in a way I suspected there was more than an outside chance of it falling off. The Fox was drunken too so we opted for the most painfully obvious drunk foreigner way home of pushing her in a shopping trolley until the cops came.




The next day we had booked a girlie night with Begga eating pancakes and listening to records, which we executed with panache and style. Svenni joined us and we ate enough calories to floor the marshmallow man. Disco classic ruled supreme and there was much giggling and dancing.




On Friday Kalli came and took us on an adventure to the moon or any of the star trek planets.



Or at least somewhere which resembled outer space in the brilliant sunlight and on to a town I cannot remember how to pronounce let alone spell about 40mins from Reykjavik where they have much geothermalness and we ate ice creams and burgers in a place called Eden. It was the tackiest most wondrous surroundings. Full of tropical plants and weird décor. I felt incredibly surreal for the seventy millionth time this month. We also visited the 80s90s store which is straight out of a twisted drug movie. I found a thoroughly disgusting luminous fuschia pink jogging suit, the top of which I am wearing now.




In other news, yesterday I received a call asking if I would like to present a documentary on a summer festival thing here, naturally I said yes, so I am awaiting news of its progress. It turns out as well as the Sunday paper my photo was in a trash mag this week, akin to Heat, the media whore in me is so pleased with this, for it is the pinnacle of tack. I am also going to be writing a column for the revamped ticketmaster type site here, and tonight we are off to some movie thingamy organised poser party on a whale watching boat with free booze.... There will be more up here on that soon.

Laters people. Kissy wissy huggy wuggy woooooo