it's deliciously comic and almost 'My Family'-esque that my Dad was bought an Ipod for his birthday to use on his extremely extensive runs he seems to disappear on daily. Upon the elder generation (well most of them) being technologically-retarded, i've been helping him with it this afternoon post-football and I've found the Live Lounge CDs to be a severely incredible listen. My favourite tracks have been Umbrella covered by Biffy Clyro and The Scientist covered by Avril Lavigne and it puts you in that ambient, emotional state of mind where you question the significance/meaning of everything including every relationship you've ever had and why your dog looks at you in that way when you wake up of a morning.
The weekend has been tiring, i've wrestled with my bed frame, every OAP in existance at work, a copious amount of Tort-Law flash cards and 11 masculine females on a football pitch today. We won 4-2 but again i've destroyed my 'hot-pins' image by scraping one knee to the extent that it looks like a half-peeled potato. I don't have to pretend i'm some appearance-goddess because i sooner wander out of my house in sweatpants and an over-sized hoody than Vogue or Cosmopolitans 'Just in!' look.
I'm still living this fantasy of never going back to college, sigh.
'Look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and everything you do, and they were all yellow.
I came along, i wrote a song for you, and all the things you do, and it was called 'Yellow'.
So then i took my turn, oh what a thing to have done, and it was all yellow.
Your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones, turn into something beautiful.
And you know, you know i love you so, you know i love you so.'
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