New Manga

It’s a strange situation. Having recovered my wits over the weekend ( it was obvious to my entire family that I’d misplaced them altogether last week, please forgive the “I’m insane” post) I now find myself up and in front of the computer at roughly 2am with a huge black beast shaking and tripping under the desk. There’s a thunderstorm and Mustafa is doing his best to be a complete slavering freak. Unfortunately for me Delana is out for the evening and everyone else needs to work in the morning so it’s up to me to keep him quiet and out of anyones bedroom.
Lucky for me an ex-pupil gave me a DVD full of Bleach manga a week or so ago and now I really have nothing else better to do so… I hadn’t read any before Paul gave me his Bleach collection and I’m already hooked. Dare I say it’s even better than Fruits Basket? Well, it’s different in any case – much more martial-arts and demon fighting, about the same amount of funny dialogue and great outfits. 🙂 I’m so often startled when I see a frame out of a manga that so perfectly captures a feeling I’ve been thinking about incorporating into my own work – some isolated lazy daydream. If I could draw I would *definitely* want to be a manga-ka when I grow up. As my drawing is limited to demented stick-figure people, I’ll have to stick with photography and knitting. 😛
In other random news my old friend Karen W. called on Saturday to see if we wanted to see Alex Lloyd play. To be honest I had no idea who he was, but Delana jogged my memory. He’s written a few songs that have become Australian radio-anthems and Ford SUV commercials. It was an interesting experience. They played well together and the crowd certainly loved them – Master Lloyd had the crowd singing the chorus to one of the songs. I bet that must feel good when it’s a song you’ve written. The crowd was overwhelmingly white-bread – most of the blokes had that tin-tin hairstyle that seems to be popular, with polo shirts and popped collars. I most certainly prefer Portland style to this Adelaide cloning nonsense. I guess it wasn’t the best evening to go talent scouting for style. I’m not as snooty as I sound really – it’s the sleep deprivation speaking. Anyway, Boo stuck out just a tad, his 1-Up green mushroom t-shirt screaming Fan Boy loud and clear, and I don’t know how to stereotype myself. I wasn’t in a camisole and heels or a tank top and thongs like all the other chickabeebees. Anyway, why is this relevant? Well because of what happened after the show. Karen asked if we wanted to talk to the band? – sure, why not. So we wait for Karen to open the stage door, which she does, and instantly some huge bloke jumps in the door and tells us they “just need a minute”. Ok sure. Karen looks perplexed as the door closes on us. A small while later it opens again. A herd of shimmery chickabees are ushered in, but we are told “just a minute”. Karen starts getting pissed at this guy, whoever he is. On the third attempt the dude is about to close the door on us again when Karen tells him to get stuffed and pulls us inside. Turns out he was “from the record company” and I guess we didn’t look like we were going to fawn sufficiently or some bollocks. The band are all just chilling out around a table, looking relaxed and making some idle chatter about stuff. Brian gets engaged in some music speaky-speek, I talk to Karen – what was the fuss about? After a while the weird smell starts to get to me and the sleepies set in so we tootle off home. Thank you Karen, it was an unusual experience, but a funny one. It was certainly great to see you.

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