China Forbes On the Piano

before i embark on a full-fledged account of Paris (which was tres magnifigue by the way), i think i should make mention of a recent concert i attended- of Pink Martini at the Usher Hall. the title of this post is derived from the lead chanteuse (China Forbes) finishing one of the songs by slamming her butt on the piano, and the dissonance works so well somehow. this is impromptu performance at its peak.

needless to say the concert was a blast. the orotund enunciation of latin beats, french jazz and big band sounds did much service to the auditory. China Forbes's voice was polished and her French was sultry-sexy with the tinge of laziness which gave the entire ambience a very chill-out feel. it was made more special by its aberrant take on the synthesis of different genres of music, enmeshing them to create a most unique sound. it was literally a musical trip round the world without leaving the comforts of your chair- there was japanese geisha-dances fused with latin influences (the drums et al), french swing, comedic American jazz chansons (with a funny story to boot) and traditional feast of French jazz and the likes. the chemistry within the band is incredible as well, they build upon one another like a seamless piece of clothing, comfortable in each other's creativity and impromptuness. this 10-piece orchestra really gave its audience an evening to remember. so if you get the chance check out their latest offering- hang on, little tomato. (see how much fun they're having?..haha)

meanwhile, i think i shall try the butt-slamming on the piano keyboard thing, unexpected results may occur!

Hemingway, Pound, Picasso et gang cannot be all wrong

Salut tout le monde! C'est le meilleur temps pour utiliser le langue Français parce que je suis à la endroit qui la epitomé etre Française! Mais le clavier d'ordinateur est complètement différent donc j'arreterai maintenant.

Le Paris! What else can i say, well not much in French apparently- my linguistic skills shrink in the heat of pressure and obligatorily hastened speeds. Well this keyboard is majorly pissing me off with the completely out of whack arrangement of the letters and i'm typing like a semi-retard, and it so arrests inspiration. Why must the French do Everything differently? Have to make it short but Paris is completely fantastique- her beauty draws deep from her well of civilisation and history, and the people so far is really not as snooty as you would stereotypically think. And plus I saw La Tour Effiel, in light rain- oh a perfect beginning to a French romance! Cliché as it can be, it really is not when you bask in its splendour and the surreal feeling that you are actually in paris starts settling down. Tomorrow i thinkk i will try battling ,y wqy through the biggest flea market here- Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen.

I promise to report more and post pictures once i get back into Edimbourg but meanwhile use your imagination which must be soaked in sour grape juice! Taha.

Someone always has to cry at my party

euphemistically, edinburgh has never been so clean since summer. but rubbishly speaking, the weather has been a putrid thing. night temperatures dropping below 8 celsius and unstoppable winds howling as if the cold isn't enough to curse and swear till you see a semblance of a radiator. yes, the party is officially over, the resident scottish weather is here and looks to play host for quite awhile. i even had to row, raining, today- wasn't dreadful per se but the cold gets you right through the bones and your hands, even with constant activity, becomes disturbingly a separate entity from yourself.

no exciting news to update really except that i'm going barcelona in dec, before my exams! yes!

alright that was juvenile, so sue me. *sinister laughter*

oh and i made really good seared salmon with herb and butter sauce. the onions charred quicker than i thought but otherwise it was quite delish. and i'm off to my ben & jerry's irish licquor coffee ice cream.

The Epistemology of being (pissed) Drunk

it's hard not to get smashed in edinburgh, what with immense peer pressure and ridiculously cheap pints to go, one is doing oneself a gargantun disservice by just not drinking. and what's fun in being sober your whole freaking life? there goes the epistemology of being drunk- good company and the rationalization of inherent existentialism.

pardon me, i just came back from the rowing initiation and you know what the british initiation is like- plenty of booze without any backtracking of soberness. when comfortist cant (insecere talk, not cannot without the apostrophe) is dispelled to the outer realms of human interaction and everyone is just insanely fun. rowing has been a blast, what with the adrenaline of pushing your legs against the stern and the oars gliding against the waters generating acceleration like none other. today's session was the best so far, because people were executing their balancing task in the utmost fashion, none of the jock attitude of wishing to shine off at the expense of the others on board. appalling behaviour, that: never emulate.

sorry for the lack of update these past few days. the excesses of time has not been occuring and i have been utterly abstemious with the utilisation of it- if you just completely understood what's been happening here. the piling list of readings (an average of a vomitus 22-cases per seminar), rowing trainings on 4 days, 2 at an unearthly hour of 7am and the socialising I have to go for, otherwise i'll be in dire need of friends/company. so there goes my week.

one event deserves worthy mention. the sempiternal praises i've received for my curry evening where 5 harsh judges unanimously gave thumbs up for my singapore curry chicken. it was honestly quite gorgeous and i'm pretty glad i'm turning out to be quite the chef. maybe i should rent some newton-circus stall and start a curry stall or something..haha. that's not gonna happen anytime soon if i'm gonna work towards the slaughter and may offer of £51K a year. but then again this culinary success is going to shed much effulgence on my reputation and a good company to keep. oh yes and i went to rǿyksopp (pronunced as ray-yu-sob) in glasgow and it was pure ecstasy. the beat was grand and the operatic vocals gave a good twist to the otherwise too-trancey feel. glasgow's aesthetically appalling when compared to the long-drawn history of edinburgh. otherwise it was good fun.

read back soon, cos edinburgh's way fun and i'm getting used to my lifestyle here, which is kinda scary if you really think about it.