Look outside! I know that you'll recognize it's Summertime.

In a couple of days, I have my last exam for this year.

I had an awesome half term, but these past couple of weeks have been monotonous and boring, and I've felt monotonous and boring, because I'm cancelling plans all the time because I'm exhausted or studying or sitting an exam. And it's not been any fun. This morning, I was riding a high. I was sitting on my bed revising history, happy as a clam, and I didn't realise until I started singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow that I was giddy because of the Glee finale last night. And as much I love Glee, (I think I just lost some hipster cred or something) that should never be the highlight of a person's fortnight (even though it was really great, wasn't it? Like, how emotional were you when Sue voted for New Directions?). Exams have left me starved for entertainment, and I'm desperate to get out of the house and out of the town and go to the beach or the capital or somewhere new.

Thankfully, I have a tiny manageable Ethics paper left. That's it. Then it's Summer. And I am really excited this year. I've a lot of awesome plans; some of which are long-anticipated plans, some are plans to go the beach and the capital, family holiday plans, and some of which are accidental and I can't get out of them, so fuck it, I'll make the most of it (I'm looking at you, French Alps trip I somehow agreed to go on). Mostly, I'm looking forward to inevitable spontaneous things. And days when I'm not doing anything else and can:

Paint my room.

Watch all of these Woody Allen DVDs I have and haven't starting watching yet.

Mosey on down to friends' houses and have fun lazy nights in.

Sleep

Revisit sunny day records (mainly lots and lots of the Thermals, who remind me of visiting theme parks and holidays and Summer in general).

Of course, days where you have no plans often turn out to be the best days; there's nothing to do, and there being nothing to do, there's everything to do. That's when the spontaneity kicks in.

Until this friday, though, all I have to look forward to is my day off from exams tomorrow. I'm gonna get my hair cut. I think my mind began to wander during a science exam, and suddenly it hit me that my hair was getting really long. It was one of those days where I got caught up in a Bruce Springsteen-esque funk and wanted to change my clothes, my hair, my face. Feeling so dissatisfied with myself and my appearance is probably why, throughout high school, I've been given to drastic hair cuts, and my hair has rarely been allowed to grow past chin-length. And probably why I dyed my hair blackblackblack for years (it's a red-brown now). There've been times when I've been determined to grow it, but I always get bored and give up before it gets to my shoulders. It's just resting there now.

Thing is, I love cutting my hair off, because of the initial surprise I get when I happen to play with it, or wash it, or style it and realise it's all gone. But after the novelty wears off, I realise I'm far off from having heavy long tresses, and that I'm going to have to go through that boring middly stage (what my hair is at now) to get it anywhere near as long as I want it. So, I don't think I'll get my head sheared tomorrow. I'm happier now in my appearance than I've ever been. I guess I just want to cut it off because I'm bored. And a haircut won't change anything anything internally, or even externally, really. Plus, how am I going to cultivate a spectacular pile of hair like this if I keep cutting it off?

PLUS, when my hair was at it's shortest (and blackest) I got the nickname El Beatle. Looking through old photos now, I realise the Beatle I most closesly resembled was definitely Ringo. That is never a good look for a teenage girl.

I also need to remember to, amongst doing funner things this weekend, send out job applications- I'm growing up. I hate myself for saying this, but a lot of the time it seems the amount of money you spend corresponds with how memorable your experiences are. Not always, but enough times. And I hate relying on my parents to pay for things.

Music I Like in Films I Like.

I keep finding ways to distract myself from revising.America- Simon&Garfunkel (Almost Famous)

After I watched Almost Famous for the first time, this was the scene that stuck in mind. In the way On the Road is the ultimate travelling book, America is the ultimate travelling song. It describes the experience so well, from killing time with your friends ("Counting the cars","Playing games with the faces") to quiet, solitary moments of beauty ( "The moon rose over an open field.") My favourite line in the whole song, though, describes the kind of disconnected malaise you can get caught up in from spending too much time away from everything familiar to you, "Kathy, I'm lost... I'm empty and aching and I don't know why."

It's an anthem; I've a lot of memories of everyone singing along to this song on long trips that are reminiscent of the infamous Tiny Dancer scene in this film. And it's really hard to listen to this song, especially if you're going somewhere new, and not feel excited to be alive. Which Zooey Deschanel plays out perfectly when she sits her super conservative mother (Frances McDormand) down and tells her, "This song explains why I'm leaving home to become a stewardess," before running onto the street, beaming, hair in rollers, jumping into the passenger seat of her boyfriend's car and rolling off.

These Days- Nico (The Royal Tenenbaums)

There's a load of memorable music moments in this film. The uses of Fly by Nick Drake and She Smiles Sweetly/Ruby Tuesday by The Rolling Stones are favourites, and it's a close-run thing, but I think this scene tops them. When I'm in a funk, watching this film is something I do to cheer myself up. This never fails to make me smile.

Vessel In Vain- Smog (Dead Man's Shoes)
"God will forgive them. He'll forgive them and allow them into heaven and I can't live with that."

This is a good film that I have no desire to ever watch again. It's bleak and dark and harrowing. There's one moment of comic relief near the beginning, and rest of the film is pretty devastating, and hard to watch. The opening is a gritty super-8 montage of the two central brothers from the film growing up together in the midlands, set to this song, and it sets the tone for the rest of the film perfectly.

Shampoo Suicide- Broken Social Scene (Half Nelson)

Half Nelson is worth watching for this scene alone, because it really needs to be watched in context, because it's amazing.

The Star Spangled Banner- Gogol Bordello (Everything is Illuminated)
They're very different, and I definitely prefer Jonathon Safran Foer's novel to the film, but the one thing the book is lacking that the film has in abundance is Eugene Hutz, who plays Alex who is a premium character. One of my favourite moments in the film is when Gogol Bordello show up with Eugene to greet Jonathon (Elijah Wood), and serenade him with the American national anthem. They just look so adorably earnest and Jonathon looks so confused. So funny.
Also the scene with Sunflower by Paul Cantelon is pretty.

The Winner Is/ How It Ends- DeVotchKa (Little Miss Sunshine)

I was going to write about the driving montage in this film set to Sufjan Stevens' Chicago, but Everything is Illuminated reminded me of How It Ends by DeVotchKa (it was used in the trailer for that film), which is an underrated theme, so I'm writing about that instead. The film opens with a close up of Olive's bespeckled eyes, and this song. It's really melancholic and pretty and it was stuck in my head for days after I watched the film.

There's some glaring omissions, and I'll probably update this when I have spare time.

It seems sad '80s pop was my childhood niche.

Right now, I'm listening to The Cure's Disintegration in it's entirety, for the first time in five years, I think. Which seems longer than it is. I'll always think of this album as being huge, because it was such an integral part of my musical education. I first heard it when I was nine, I think, and my big sister, then sixteen and going through an angst teenage goff phase, burned me a copy to play on my Sony Walkman. It was one of the only albums I owned, so I would just play it again and again and again, until I knew every song inside out, even the ones I didn't like that much at first(Lullaby and Fascination Street). And listening to it for the first time, on my headphones, it was huge. And Plainsong was just such an explosive, euphoric, romantic opening to me, then. I still love it now.

Listening to it again, I can't be objective about it, because there's too much nostalgia involved. The songs I loved, I still love now. The first three tracks are still saccharine and dreamy and heart-wrenching, which is what drew me in in the first place. But I couldn't see myself listening to it on a daily basis like I used to. Maybe that's because I'm treating it with the kind of condescening feeling (not quite embarassment, but close) people tend to treat things they used to love and have moved on from with. I don't know, but for whatever reason, it doesn't bowl me over anymore. It holds up- it's a great album- but it just doesn't resonate with me as much as it used to.

Anyway, it's still a nice throwback to childhood and it's comforting and it's a nice way to cap off a week where I've sat eight exams (which is more exhausting than it sounds).

On a related note, this morning I was listening to one of the other first CDs I owned (I've been on a nostalgia kick), which was the first CD I ever went into a record shop and bought; a collection of the Smiths' singles. While Disintegration was an album for long journeys, I would rotate the Smiths whilst playing Mario Party Four on my brother's gamecube for hours on end. Listening to that again was a similar thing. Difference is, Disintegration reminds me of some tragic, romantic, frankly embarassing ideology I had as a child, and The Smiths' singles reminds me of psyching myself up for frustrating mini-games like Trace Race. Which was the worst, because the crayon just did what it wanted, no matter how carfeul you were.

Disintegration's finishing up now. I forgot how sweet the closer is.

Hungry Bread and Butter Hustle.

Let's celebrate banjos!
Because they're my favourite instrument of right now. My favourite album of right now is Department of Eagles' In Ear Park, which I'm always revisiting again and again. Overall, I've always thought of it as being an autumnal album, but the closer, Balmy Night, is completely perfect for Summer, and it has some magic banjo.


Also good are bicycles. Go out for a bike ride, head in directions only on instinct, do the opposite of what you think you should do. When you inevitably get lost, listen to this song, melt into the evening.

How Many Nights of Limping 'Round on Pagan Holidays?

"I remember waking up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct moment in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was- I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling, and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger."

I just got back from Cologne.
My first day in the city was strange.
I woke up in Calais feeling not so great. I was very meloncholic and anxious, and I couldn't shake the feeling any more than I could place what was causing it; I still can't, really. It was very early in the morning, and everyone else was asleep, so I took a beachside walk. I sat on the sand and watched the ferries coming in and made patterns with the sea shells, and that was fine. The five hour car ride to Germany wasn't.
This was weird, because I normally crave long journeys of all kinds. And they're every bit a part of the Summer. But in that moment, there was nothing I wanted less than to be stuck with myself in the backseat for any length of time. I couldn't decide what to listen to, so I switched from album to album, and eventually decided nothing was sounding good, gave up on music, books and scenery and went to sleep instead.
When I got there, I wandered around the city for a couple of hours. Up and down the streets, around the cathedral and along the Rhein. For whatever reason, I couldn't allow myself to be inundated with whatever beauty there was in the city that day (and there was so much, if looked at in the right way). It was just a really off day, and I was appreciating nothing.
I just locked myself in my hotel room, curled up on the sofa and stuck on a record that I didn't have to pay attention to because I know it inside out. Maybe not a favourite, or an album that I think is technically the best (I never really cared for the first two tracks much), but an album that I can always go back to when I need it, because it is just so comforting. And honest and gentle and devastating. It was Elliott Smith's self-titled.
I'm going to add that The Biggest Lie is one of my favourite closers to any album, and that its probably the best song to listen to through headphones when you're sulking in a hotel room by yourself on a rainy Summer evening in a beautiful foreign city.

I fell in love with the place the next day, though. I'd go back in a heartbeat.