<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:20:48.949+01:00</updated><category term='childhood memories'/><category term='Japan'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>Welcome to Black Blossom Falls.</title><subtitle type='html'>Thoughts, photography and other crap I like.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-4042530511388341310</id><published>2009-11-17T23:46:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-18T00:30:29.563Z</updated><title type='text'>Vote for Zach at the People's Choice Awards</title><content type='html'>Shameless plug for my favourite guy.&lt;br /&gt;Please vote!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="pca-widget-horz" style="background: rgb(9, 11, 11) url(http://cdn.peopleschoice.com/pca/img/widget/pca_background_horz.jpg) no-repeat scroll left top; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; width: 430px; height: 260px; position: relative; z-index: 1111; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1em; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"&gt;&lt;div id="pca-widget-header" style="border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(126, 126, 126); background: rgb(25, 26, 27) url(http://cdn.peopleschoice.com/pca/img/widget/pca_header_big.png) no-repeat scroll center center; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; height: 36px; position: absolute; top: 0pt; left: 0pt; right: 0pt; z-index: 1112;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="pca-widget-cat" style="position: absolute; top: 50px; left: 10px; color: rgb(212, 187, 20); z-index: 1113; text-transform: uppercase;"&gt;This is my choice for:&lt;div id="pca-widget-cat-name" style="width: 250px; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 1.8em; line-height: 1.4em;"&gt;Favorite Breakout Movie Actor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="pca-widget-choice" style="border: 1px solid rgb(126, 126, 126); position: absolute; bottom: 4px; right: 4px; z-index: 1115;"&gt;&lt;div id="pca-widget-choice-overlay" style="position: relative;"&gt;&lt;div class="pca-widget-choice-name" id="top" style="padding: 6px; background: transparent url(http://cdn.peopleschoice.com/pca/img/widget/pca_black_trans.png) repeat scroll left top; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; position: absolute; left: 0pt; right: 0pt; top: 0pt; color: rgb(212, 143, 70); text-transform: uppercase;"&gt;Zachary Quinto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://cdn.peopleschoice.com/pca/img/2010nominees/zachary_quinto.jpg" alt="" height="212" width="161" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="pca-widget-footer" style="padding: 62px 0pt 0pt 82px; background: transparent url(http://cdn.peopleschoice.com/pca/img/widget/pca_callout_movies.png) no-repeat scroll left top; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; width: 190px; height: 75px; position: absolute; bottom: 0pt; left: 2px; z-index: 1117;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://cdn.peopleschoice.com/pca/votenow.jsp?source=widget&amp;amp;utm_source=widget&amp;amp;pollId=900006" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://cdn.peopleschoice.com/pca/img/widget/pca_vote_big.png" alt="" style="border: 0pt none ;" height="29" width="130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;You can vote as often as you like, so keep clicking that VOTE button!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While your in a Zach frame of mind, why not check out these links &amp;amp; Twitter accounts;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://sylarsarmy.com/"&gt;SArmy AKA Sylar's Army&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/sylars_army"&gt;@Sylars_Army&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://zacharyquinto.com/"&gt;Zachary Quinto Official Site&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/zacharyquinto"&gt;@ZacharyQuinto&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://beforethedoor.com/"&gt;Before The Door&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/beforethedoor"&gt;@BeforeTheDoor&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://zacharyquinto.co.uk/"&gt;Zachary Quinto UK&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/zacharyquintouk" class="tweet-url username" onclick="pageTracker._trackPageview('/exit/to/zacharyquintouk')"&gt;@ZacharyQuintoUK&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/zacharyquintouk"&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span id="msgtxt5792899632" class="msgtxt en"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="tweet-url username" onclick="pageTracker._trackPageview('/exit/to/zacharyquintouk')"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-4042530511388341310?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/4042530511388341310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/11/vote-for-zach-at-peoples-choice-awards.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/4042530511388341310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/4042530511388341310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/11/vote-for-zach-at-peoples-choice-awards.html' title='Vote for Zach at the People&apos;s Choice Awards'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-550595543052623443</id><published>2009-11-01T16:35:00.016Z</published><updated>2009-11-01T22:38:20.920Z</updated><title type='text'>Obituary: D.Monic. The end of an era.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3IVVQPdRI/AAAAAAAAAN8/b0tJzvI4s28/s1600-h/n675165186_4173123_221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3IVVQPdRI/AAAAAAAAAN8/b0tJzvI4s28/s320/n675165186_4173123_221.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399191797095167250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to tell you a story.  It is not a new story, it will have been told thousands of times before, this is simply my variation of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;This is the story of a band that for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;12&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; years played a big role in my life.  Last night it came to an end.  As those of us involved stand on the precipice of turning &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;, the death of D.Monic symbolised the cutting of the last point of contact with our youth.  Now there is no choice but become 'grown-ups'.  Today is a sad day, I am full of reflection for a period of my life that was the making, breaking and remaking of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3p2z2CnoI/AAAAAAAAAPM/8Ldqn6KfSlk/s1600-h/n675165186_4173143_6350.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3p2z2CnoI/AAAAAAAAAPM/8Ldqn6KfSlk/s320/n675165186_4173143_6350.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399228656126172802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;All bands have crazy politics and drama, it goes with the territory.  D.Monic had it in abundance, unfairly so. I'm a scorpio, so I hold grudges.  I still hold grudges for the way this band was treated by certain people &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; years ago, so it is fair to say that the actions of some just over a year ago, have set in motion a grudge that is still in it's bitter, early stages.  I could use this blog to name names, point fingers and generally bitch it out, but I won't.  If this blog gets to those involved, they will know who they are.  That said, I'm spiteful and vindictive, so I hope that upon reading this, they remember the great times, and feel like shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3m2HQZSEI/AAAAAAAAAOs/rvrgk1h70_Q/s1600-h/1997+outing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3m2HQZSEI/AAAAAAAAAOs/rvrgk1h70_Q/s320/1997+outing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399225345622231106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eyebrows!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;This is me at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;16&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;.  A few days into college, fresh out of a posh, pressure cooker high school. A total outcast, up until this point I was the only metaller I knew.  Of course, in college, that was never going to last long.   A few months later I had met some other metallers and was part of a 'group'.  A bunch of teenagers who listened to Kurt Cobain sing, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Our little group has always been, and always will until the end"&lt;/span&gt; and knew those words really meant something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the centre of our group was a band, there had to be a band, that's how these things work, you're a teenager, you listen to rock/metal, so you're either in or know a band.  Our band was called (at the time) Peroxide, they had a few songs, but didn't gig yet.  The singer, Barry, and I were very similar people, before long we became best friends and not long after that we were a couple.  He the frontman, me the aspiring photographer, I was painfully aware of the cliche!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3n5fTv-RI/AAAAAAAAAO0/7eolN3VkbKo/s1600-h/Barry+%26+Natalie+%2798.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3n5fTv-RI/AAAAAAAAAO0/7eolN3VkbKo/s320/Barry+%26+Natalie+%2798.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399226503129987346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Me and Barry at Ozzfest '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;98&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3n5hhGDkI/AAAAAAAAAO8/TLt-lmKIRnk/s1600-h/BarryPlay.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3n5hhGDkI/AAAAAAAAAO8/TLt-lmKIRnk/s320/BarryPlay.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399226503722831426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Playing The Walthamstow Standard circa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;1999&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;So drama, politics a new, better bassist and a year or so later, and Peroxide, now called D.V.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; were playing their first proper shows. I remember feeling so proud, all my friends up there, making everyone in the crowd so happy.  I felt that same pride last night.  The gigs were great, and the more they played, the better they got.  Personally, it was a great place for me to practise shooting live shows, I developed quite a folio and understanding of light which helped get me a job at Kerrang! Magazine.  Kerrang! liked D.V.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; or as they were about to become known, D.Monic, the ladies of Kerrang! liked Barry in particular, even making him their poster boy for an article.  They were the band that should have been, all the opportunities were there, as was the skill and the image. Looking back, I feel very frustrated, I imagine I'm not the only one.  I guess somethings are not meant to be, however perfect they may seem at the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3ldh4Z3YI/AAAAAAAAAOE/VDpggSkwhVQ/s1600-h/n675165186_4173106_6275.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3ldh4Z3YI/AAAAAAAAAOE/VDpggSkwhVQ/s320/n675165186_4173106_6275.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399223823761005954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Barry and I broke up after &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; years, like all great frontmen, he felt the need to self-destruct on a sizable scale.  Despite playing the dutiful girlfriend, all the support in the world would not have stopped him from doing what he felt he had to do.  I couldn't stand the majority of the people who were hanging around him, I didn't recognise the person he had become, so for me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Our little group has always been, and always will until the end"&lt;/span&gt; ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;The strangest thing is, no matter how worried and bitter I felt about Barry, I still had as much love for D.Monic as I ever did.  For the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; years we were together, I put everything into that band, blood sweat and tears, literally.  Even during that short period when Barry and I were not talking (we are close friends again and he is back to being as near to normal as he/everyone would like to be), I would prot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ect D.Monic ferociously if anyone knocked them in an attempt to side with me.  D.Monic was my youth encapsulated in one band.  If you said anything about D.Monic, you were saying someth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ing about me, and I still stand by that. The bad times made us stronger and the great times brought us closer together.  Those who fell along the way, either by choice or manipulation, have only served to show that those who will continue to be there now this journey is over, are better people, better friends.  True friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3sfqBqfuI/AAAAAAAAAPc/V1RZu5Jp-50/s1600-h/Me+and+my+boys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3sfqBqfuI/AAAAAAAAAPc/V1RZu5Jp-50/s320/Me+and+my+boys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399231556888461026" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;My Brother Nicholas, Me and Barry - Halloween &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;2001&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3sfSUa8eI/AAAAAAAAAPU/YnwAYaqrO50/s1600-h/N%2BN%2BB+2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3sfSUa8eI/AAAAAAAAAPU/YnwAYaqrO50/s320/N%2BN%2BB+2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399231550524682722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;My Brother Nicholas, Me and Barry - Halloween &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;No band lasts forever, not even the Rolling Stones.  (Seriously, those guys died in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;80&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;'s, what you see are actually genetically modified prunes, animated via electric currents *BA BOOM CHISH!*)  It is only a matter of when with most bands. Bands are just like families and take just as much work.  Some fall apart when someone dies (Nirvana), some break up, exchange bitter words and then live with regret (Pantera) and some realise that they just can't do it forever, choose to go out on a high and leave the fans wanting more, that is what D.Monic did. I respect them, and especially Barry for being brave enough to make that decision, I know very well that it was not an easy one, but then, the right one so rarely is.  It was time, as hard as it is, it was time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;Goodbye D.Monic, goodbye last link to our youth. Good and bad, laughter and tears, love, hate and everything in between. Whatever the emotion, I always felt it with a significant degree of passion. Thank you for making me feel alive. I will miss you very much.&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3p2jOS0jI/AAAAAAAAAPE/flq2ZlIdNzk/s1600-h/n675165186_4173127_1406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 297px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3p2jOS0jI/AAAAAAAAAPE/flq2ZlIdNzk/s320/n675165186_4173127_1406.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399228651664495154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="364" width="445"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HLa0Xl1FBcU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HLa0Xl1FBcU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="364" width="445"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Embrace The Fallen' - 31/10/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~ D.Monic was brought to you by... ~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3ld58YbUI/AAAAAAAAAOM/3kz6VPFa8tU/s1600-h/n675165186_4173090_3547.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3ld58YbUI/AAAAAAAAAOM/3kz6VPFa8tU/s320/n675165186_4173090_3547.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399223830220139842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Barry - Vocals / Guitar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3ld186PrI/AAAAAAAAAOU/eRBCKGqfqlg/s1600-h/n675165186_4173096_4447.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3ld186PrI/AAAAAAAAAOU/eRBCKGqfqlg/s320/n675165186_4173096_4447.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399223829148614322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Paul - Drums&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3leFtoW6I/AAAAAAAAAOc/2uLaeIF28rY/s1600-h/n675165186_4173094_4155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3leFtoW6I/AAAAAAAAAOc/2uLaeIF28rY/s320/n675165186_4173094_4155.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399223833379494818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dan - Bass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3lectiSlI/AAAAAAAAAOk/AYqhFYqnq5M/s1600-h/n675165186_4173097_4740.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3lectiSlI/AAAAAAAAAOk/AYqhFYqnq5M/s320/n675165186_4173097_4740.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399223839553112658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chris - Guitar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photos by &lt;a href="http://nothingmore.co.uk/"&gt;Me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-550595543052623443?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/550595543052623443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/11/obituary-dmonic-end-of-era.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/550595543052623443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/550595543052623443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/11/obituary-dmonic-end-of-era.html' title='Obituary: D.Monic. The end of an era.'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Su3IVVQPdRI/AAAAAAAAAN8/b0tJzvI4s28/s72-c/n675165186_4173123_221.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-5260855130571300878</id><published>2009-10-08T16:03:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T22:27:27.023+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'For Edgar'</title><content type='html'>Today is National Poetry Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;I used to be quite the little poet back in the day, not so much now.  Perhaps I'm no longer tormented enough.  For me, poetry has always been about torment.  I was introduced to reading and poetry at a very early age, however, it wasn't until just after I turned &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; that I stumbled upon a writer who I really connected with.  No other writer has held such a place in my heart for so long.  So this blog is for him, one Mr Edgar Allan Poe.  I feel the timing for this blog is perfect as not only is today National Poetry Day, but yesterday was the anniversary of Poe's death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Ss4EpgGMbjI/AAAAAAAAAM8/YMQa4dpLd48/s1600-h/Poe2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Ss4EpgGMbjI/AAAAAAAAAM8/YMQa4dpLd48/s320/Poe2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390250915046125106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Late November, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;1989&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;, Keble School For Boys Christmas Bazaar.   I had been given around £&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; for spending money (no sweets!), £&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; could get you a lot at a Christmas Bazaar then, even one held by a nice public school.  If my memory serves me correctly, I had already purchased &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; neon friendship bracelets and was proudly wearing them.  It was when I was browsing the jumble stall that I noticed a very tatty, small, interesting looking book.  The front cover told me this book had scary stories, just my sort of thing.  I opened the book onto a random page and saw the title of a story; 'The Premature Burial' (a story which to this day is the cause of my irrational fear of being buried alive), I read a couple of paragraphs, getting more and more excited with each sentence. I knew then, I had found something so very special, I wasn't sure why anyone would have wanted to get rid of it, so I quickly bought it before this 'anyone' changed their mind!  It cost me 50p. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;50&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;p for a book that in a round about way became the most influential book in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Ss5RLvf5gSI/AAAAAAAAANM/yFWnAU9MfNQ/s1600-h/454px-PrematureBurial-Clarke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Ss5RLvf5gSI/AAAAAAAAANM/yFWnAU9MfNQ/s320/454px-PrematureBurial-Clarke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390335066179731746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Skip forward &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;20&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; years and I now own a sizable collection of various publications of Poe's work.  Some books are old and worn, over-read, others I have managed to keep pristine despite reading, because they have been bound so beautifully.  Needless to say I still have the book that started it all, it is very precious to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;When I was about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;, I found my poem.  The Poe poem that I fell in love with the most.  Of course, the stories all have their special places, and The Raven, well, my photography business took it's name from that ("Darkness there, and Nothing More."), but for me, this poem had everything that made Poe my favourite writer.  The poem in question is 'For Annie'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'For Annie' was written by Poe in the year of his death.  &lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;This poem was written for a woman called Nancy Richmond, Poe called her Annie, and she was one of his closest friends.  In a letter dated March &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;23&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;1849&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;, Poe sent this poem to Nancy saying, "I think the lines 'For Annie' (those I now send) much the best I have ever written."&lt;/span&gt;  I'm inclined to agree.&lt;br /&gt;The poem takes the reader on a wonderful emotional journey, through the darkest recesses of a suicidal madness towards a light, a love and an acceptance of what has passed and what is to come.  The rhythm is Poe's trademark rhythm, the words create a world both of nightmare and of daydream for the reader.  I adore this poem and I would like to share it with you today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;FOR ANNIE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                     &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;by: Edgar Allan Poe (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;1809&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;1849&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                      &lt;ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dt&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.poetry-archive.com/t_pic.gif" naturalsizeflag="3" align="bottom" border="0" height="25" width="22" /&gt;hank Heaven! the crisis--&lt;br /&gt;               The danger is past,&lt;br /&gt;               And the lingering illness&lt;br /&gt;               Is over at last--&lt;br /&gt;               And the fever called "Living"&lt;br /&gt;               Is conquered at last.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;Sadly, I know&lt;br /&gt;               I am shorn of my strength,&lt;br /&gt;               And no muscle I move&lt;br /&gt;               As I lie at full length--&lt;br /&gt;               But no matter!--I feel&lt;br /&gt;               I am better at length.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;And I rest so composedly,&lt;br /&gt;               Now, in my bed&lt;br /&gt;               That any beholder&lt;br /&gt;               Might fancy me dead--&lt;br /&gt;               Might start at beholding me,&lt;br /&gt;               Thinking me dead.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;The moaning and groaning,&lt;br /&gt;               The sighing and sobbing,&lt;br /&gt;               Are quieted now,&lt;br /&gt;               With that horrible throbbing&lt;br /&gt;               At heart:--ah, that horrible,&lt;br /&gt;               Horrible throbbing!                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;The sickness--the nausea--&lt;br /&gt;               The pitiless pain--&lt;br /&gt;               Have ceased, with the fever&lt;br /&gt;               That maddened my brain--&lt;br /&gt;               With the fever called "Living"&lt;br /&gt;               That burned in my brain.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;And oh! of all tortures&lt;br /&gt;               That torture the worst&lt;br /&gt;               Has abated--the terrible&lt;br /&gt;               Torture of thirst&lt;br /&gt;               For the naphthaline river&lt;br /&gt;               Of Passion accurst:--&lt;br /&gt;               I have drunk of a water&lt;br /&gt;               That quenches all thirst:--                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;Of a water that flows,&lt;br /&gt;               With a lullaby sound,&lt;br /&gt;               From a spring but a very few&lt;br /&gt;               Feet under ground--&lt;br /&gt;               From a cavern not very far&lt;br /&gt;               Down under ground.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;And ah! let it never&lt;br /&gt;               Be foolishly said&lt;br /&gt;               That my room it is gloomy&lt;br /&gt;               And narrow my bed;&lt;br /&gt;               For man never slept&lt;br /&gt;               In a different bed--&lt;br /&gt;               And, to sleep, you must slumber&lt;br /&gt;               In just such a bed.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;My tantalized spirit&lt;br /&gt;               Here blandly reposes,&lt;br /&gt;               Forgetting, or never&lt;br /&gt;               Regretting its roses--&lt;br /&gt;               Its old agitations&lt;br /&gt;               Of myrtles and roses:                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;For now, while so quietly&lt;br /&gt;               Lying, it fancies&lt;br /&gt;               A holier odor&lt;br /&gt;               About it, of pansies--&lt;br /&gt;               A rosemary odor,&lt;br /&gt;               Commingled with pansies--&lt;br /&gt;               With rue and the beautiful&lt;br /&gt;               Puritan pansies.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;And so it lies happily,&lt;br /&gt;               Bathing in many&lt;br /&gt;               A dream of the truth&lt;br /&gt;               And the beauty of Annie--&lt;br /&gt;               Drowned in a bath&lt;br /&gt;               Of the tresses of Annie.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;She tenderly kissed me,&lt;br /&gt;               She fondly caressed,&lt;br /&gt;               And then I fell gently&lt;br /&gt;               To sleep on her breast--&lt;br /&gt;               Deeply to sleep&lt;br /&gt;               From the heaven of her breast.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;When the light was extinguished,&lt;br /&gt;               She covered me warm,&lt;br /&gt;               And she prayed to the angels&lt;br /&gt;               To keep me from harm--&lt;br /&gt;               To the queen of the angels&lt;br /&gt;               To shield me from harm.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;And I lie so composedly,&lt;br /&gt;               Now, in my bed,&lt;br /&gt;               (Knowing her love)&lt;br /&gt;               That you fancy me dead--&lt;br /&gt;               And I rest so contentedly,&lt;br /&gt;               Now, in my bed,&lt;br /&gt;               (With her love at my breast)&lt;br /&gt;               That you fancy me dead--&lt;br /&gt;               That you shudder to look at me,&lt;br /&gt;               Thinking me dead.                       &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dt&gt;But my heart it is brighter&lt;br /&gt;               Than all of the many&lt;br /&gt;               Stars in the sky,&lt;br /&gt;               For it sparkles with Annie--&lt;br /&gt;               It glows with the light&lt;br /&gt;               Of the love of my Annie--&lt;br /&gt;               With the thought of the light&lt;br /&gt;               Of the eyes of my Annie.                     &lt;/dt&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;If this blog has interested you in any way then please check out these links for further reading;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.eapoe.org/"&gt;http://www.eapoe.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://poebicentennial.com/"&gt;http://poebicentennial.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nationalpoetryday.co.uk/"&gt;http://www.nationalpoetryday.co.uk/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Ss5SetC9UKI/AAAAAAAAANU/nTjPMIPJG-w/s1600-h/Poe_Grave_at_Westminster_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Ss5SetC9UKI/AAAAAAAAANU/nTjPMIPJG-w/s320/Poe_Grave_at_Westminster_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390336491450618018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....and just because it's poetry day, here is The Raven, as recited by Vincent Price.  You'll never hear it read better from anyone else.  (...not biased at all.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FID1CiB4bcU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FID1CiB4bcU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-5260855130571300878?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/5260855130571300878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/10/for-edgar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/5260855130571300878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/5260855130571300878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/10/for-edgar.html' title='&apos;For Edgar&apos;'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Ss4EpgGMbjI/AAAAAAAAAM8/YMQa4dpLd48/s72-c/Poe2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-6929927449834718217</id><published>2009-09-09T10:28:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T12:29:55.557+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Water baby since birth.</title><content type='html'>This is totally self indulgent, I apologise. Maybe it will be amusing for you, I hope so, I'm sorry if I go on a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;I love to be underwater, I've been able to swim since I was a baby and attended baby swimming classes with my Mum.  My Dad has always referred to me as his water baby. I have no fear of water, but respect it completely. When I was about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; I tried drowning myself in the bath on a few occasions in the hope that I would come back as a mermaid or water baby. In short, I adore water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeQ11JAHHI/AAAAAAAAAMk/J7Mj38A-YeY/s1600-h/n675165186_577388_3614.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeQ11JAHHI/AAAAAAAAAMk/J7Mj38A-YeY/s320/n675165186_577388_3614.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379427534389648498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeRCo3h9AI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gcgtq6BOImE/s1600-h/n675165186_577389_3859.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeRCo3h9AI/AAAAAAAAAMs/gcgtq6BOImE/s320/n675165186_577389_3859.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379427754433442818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I have found it to be the main thing that calms me and helps me to think clearly (apart from being in Japan which is not always so accessible!).  Last night while in the pool I spent a significant amount of time underwater, mostly thinking while I work on developing and pushing my lung capacity -which I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;totally&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; recommend for other asthmatics by the way.  I came up with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; lists; what I love about being underwater and what I hate.  This will probably only serve to enhance how weird/kooky people think I am, but what the hell, I never thought that was a bad thing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeRMoYg_vI/AAAAAAAAAM0/zYMOlN8ZiyI/s1600-h/n675165186_218784_3468.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeRMoYg_vI/AAAAAAAAAM0/zYMOlN8ZiyI/s320/n675165186_218784_3468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379427926102048498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; Things I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Love&lt;/span&gt; About Being Underwater&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Staying still and splashing my arm through the water with force so as to feel all the tiny bubbles burst against my face, arms and hands.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watching very fat people swim. I just love the way the flab moves with the water, it's beautiful.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watching people in general, the way they kick to stay afloat, they way they chat, their various expressions, babies swimming underwater with ease and without fear etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Studying professional/amateur-professional swimmers, the way they literally carve their way through the water with no spray is just awe-inspiring. The pool I swim in is very large, I once saw a guy sweep across it in about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; strokes, it was incredible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watching big muscled guys try to swim really fast due to their competitive streak, but they in fact swim quite slowly and just splash around a hell of a lot. I once passed a guy doing this -I was swimming breast stroke at the time!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Clinging to the side of the pool with the tips of my fingers, forcing myself down at extended arms length (a bit like hanging off a cliff) and staying under until I feel dizzy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Swimming to the very bottom of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;12&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;ft pool, staying down for a second or two and then shooting up like a bullet.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Head rush!!!&lt;/span&gt; Then seeing people look impressed (show off!).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Seeing children and young teens swim together free of the concept of sexuality. Last night I saw two girls aged about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;13&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;, locked together in a karma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sutra&lt;/span&gt; style position, doing double somersaults underwater, their friends cheering them on.  I think the danger of it mixed with their youth made it even more beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Seeing the fear on a child's face as they swim alone underwater for the first time and their the joy &amp;amp; pride as they reach their parent's arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Feeling the weight of the water on my legs and arms by slowly moving them up and down.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; Things I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hate&lt;/span&gt; About Being Underwater&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Realising I'm that grumpy, boring, female swimmer who gets annoyed when teenagers messing about almost bump into me and get in my way. I was there once and was so sure I'd never become 'grumpy swimmer', I'm so disappointed with myself!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Teenagers who mess about almost bump into me and get in my way, making me swerve quickly and deviate from my lovely straight line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Happily swimming along and then seeing a manky used plaster heading my way. Panicking to get away from it and finding my splashing has only served to wrap it around a part of my body.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Swimming behind someone and then seeing said person fart.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That first moment when water seeps through my swimming cap and goes into my ears.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having to wear a swimming cap in the first place!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People who splash too much, either by bad swimming or messing around. Inconsiderate bastards!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;Getting cramp. It doesn't happen too much but it's very scary when it does, usually because I'm fairly deep underwater at the time. I had cramp that put me out of action for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; weeks this summer. :( &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lifeguards who do nothing when people are being a nuisance/breaking pool rules because they are intimidated by large groups. Do your job!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Swimming along, feeling hair between my fingers and then looking only to see it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt;, ginger, brown or some other colour that obviously &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;isn't mine&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt;To be honest, although I adore swimming, I really hate having to share a pool.  Owning my own large pool with a diving area has been an aspiration of mine since I was about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="currency_converter_text"&gt; and visited the pool of a friend's grandparents fairly regularly. I've also been lucky enough to swim in large empty pools on several occasions, it's only enhanced my need to own one all the more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day Natalie, one day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeMdmb2tvI/AAAAAAAAAMc/2Dk-SR6Vp0E/s1600-h/5455_229243545186_675165186_7983966_6655853_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeMdmb2tvI/AAAAAAAAAMc/2Dk-SR6Vp0E/s320/5455_229243545186_675165186_7983966_6655853_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379422720078821106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-6929927449834718217?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/6929927449834718217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/09/water-baby-since-birth.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/6929927449834718217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/6929927449834718217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/09/water-baby-since-birth.html' title='Water baby since birth.'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SqeQ11JAHHI/AAAAAAAAAMk/J7Mj38A-YeY/s72-c/n675165186_577388_3614.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-1053288471727674827</id><published>2009-07-26T09:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T22:05:05.819+01:00</updated><title type='text'>San Diego Comic Con ‘09 – Heroes, geeks, fangirls &amp; ZQ</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SmwZpujZ0eI/AAAAAAAAAKo/rfEKz4glveQ/s1600-h/Archaia%20panel_0076%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Archaia panel_0076" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="139" alt="Archaia panel_0076" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Sm3IqsxxKkI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PkjKiv7S37c/Archaiapanel_0076_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Blogging at Comic Con is all but impossible, as I have now discovered.&amp;#160; I have SO much respect for those who are able to do this kind of thing on a regular basis!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m very aware that much of what goes on here is lost on me.&amp;#160; I don’t watch any TV shows like Star Trek, Doctor Who or even things like Dexter &amp;amp; Lost.&amp;#160; I don’t like Star Wars, I don’t like games, I don’t read ‘regular’ comics (I’m a manga girl).&amp;#160; So I do have a certain amount of guilt as I know so many would love to be in my position and would probably gain even more from the experience.&amp;#160; That said, there can be absolutely no doubt as to the level of joy I have experienced, especially today!&amp;#160; I came to Comic Con (lets call it SDCC from now on) for 3 things, Heroes, Zachary Quinto and most importantly, to see my friends.&amp;#160; I can now put a big ‘tick’ next to all of those.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Let me start with my friends, my wonderful friends.&amp;#160; Kirsty, my little pervy saviour who was able to get me a press pass at the last minute, I wouldn’t even be here without her.&amp;#160; What she lacks in height she more than makes up for with smut, and I love her dearly for that.&amp;#160; She superbly runs the very best &lt;a href="http://zacharyquinto.co.uk"&gt;ZACHARY QUINTO FANSITE&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;#160; If you are a fan, you should really check it out.&amp;#160; Thank you Kirsty, thank you so very much.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5TTNUC-I/AAAAAAAAAKw/LdWQeJMnMV8/s1600-h/DSCF14322.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSCF1432" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="184" alt="DSCF1432" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5Tt6cgSI/AAAAAAAAAK0/RptAKpe7_no/DSCF1432_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kirsty post-ZQ meeting. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Mabes, my sweet, submissive American twin, my partner in crime.&amp;#160; There are few people who are able to match my ZQ admiration and not fangirl with it, but Mabes is most certainly one of them.&amp;#160; She helped to create and runs the &lt;a href="http://sylarsarmy.com/"&gt;SARMY&lt;/a&gt;, a ‘special’ group of individuals most precious to my heart.&amp;#160; She has taken me under her wing during this trip, and stopped me from feeling intimidated by the enormity of it all, a true, true friend. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5UYnReAI/AAAAAAAAAK4/4bWdxxuNyZI/s1600-h/DSCF14308.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSCF1430" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="184" alt="DSCF1430" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5UzmmukI/AAAAAAAAAK8/4-bjBvGev2k/DSCF1430_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mabes, post-ZQ meeting.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;Last but by no means least, is Kat. Mabes’ RP bumchum, and all round saucy, great girl.&amp;#160; We really got a chance to know each other properly on this trip, and I am proud to call her a friend.&amp;#160; An original SArmy member, you can find her and her dirty mind in the pants of various male Heroes cast …probably.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5VUV3LEI/AAAAAAAAALA/zWo3qDem8RU/s1600-h/DSCF14312.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSCF1431" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="184" alt="DSCF1431" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5V-xSP-I/AAAAAAAAALE/XZcBCn6QzJc/DSCF1431_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Kat, post-ZQ meeting.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;I’m not such a meany that I would post vulnerable, goofy photos of my friends &amp;amp; their post-ZQ faces.&amp;#160; I looked just as bad, no… worse.&amp;#160; Behold, my biggest grin…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5WaszCaI/AAAAAAAAALI/cJLuCYU1Ozk/s1600-h/DSCF1434copy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSCF1434 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="184" alt="DSCF1434 copy" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5W8A7-4I/AAAAAAAAALM/f-AYvsSdfEU/DSCF1434copy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;So I guess I should do a quick round up of the trips events so far.&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160; Thursday was the first proper day of SDCC, it was hell outside.&amp;#160; The reason?&amp;#160; Twilight.&amp;#160; Fucking Twilight, currently the bane of my existence.&amp;#160; Why do fangirls have to exist?&amp;#160; Why?!&amp;#160; How does their behaviour not cause them to implode with shame?!&amp;#160; I feel this should refer to ALL fangirls.&amp;#160; I’m talking about the kind of girls who have no social understanding, no concept of their actions or how what they say and do might make the object of their affections feel uncomfortable or even petrified.&amp;#160; Fangirls make girl fans look bad, really bad.&amp;#160; We all get tarred with the same brush, and I fucking hate them for that.&amp;#160; Since my arrival in San Diego, I have met many ‘real life’ fan girls, the type of people I avoid like the plague in the UK, I can quite honestly say I disliked every one of them.&amp;#160; They are like groupies but worse, at least groupies put out, fangirls just scream en masse and take what they can.&amp;#160; U’gh, disgraceful.&amp;#160; Go away and come back when you are mentally mature and have some style.&amp;#160; Rant over.&amp;#160; Thursday night we went for ice cream with Heroes actor David D H Lawrence XVII and his lovely partner Mia.&amp;#160; A delightful couple, very interesting, very funny, very generous with their time.&amp;#160; They have an abundance of links between them, but &lt;a href="http://www.davids.com/"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; is a good place to start.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;WE spent a big chunk of Friday morning/afternoon at the FANTASTIC Heroes carnival, having fun and unknowingly being burned by the sun.&amp;#160; It was so lovely to see so many people having fun and coming together in such a way.&amp;#160; I think it was really the kind of positive promo boost that the show needs.&amp;#160; Plus, I had my first ever snow cone!!!&amp;#160; I was lucky enough to meet David and Mia again at the Heroes All Access party later that afternoon, along with my friend and Heroes artist Jason Badower (&lt;a href="http://jasonbadower.blogspot.com/"&gt;BLOG&lt;/a&gt;), Heroes writer Oliver Grigsby (&lt;a href="http://blog.olivergrigsby.com/"&gt;BLOG&lt;/a&gt;), Heroes head prop guy James (&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/JamesProps"&gt;TWITTER&lt;/a&gt;), and others.&amp;#160; It was a great afternoon, so full of laughter, not too geeky, just a few people with a common interest getting together.&amp;#160; Oh, and I got to wear HRG’s glasses…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5XXpb9eI/AAAAAAAAALQ/KifcUBpN2gk/s1600-h/DSCF1396copy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSCF1396 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="DSCF1396 copy" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5XlUaMAI/AAAAAAAAALU/TVsH53WhFww/DSCF1396copy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="157" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5YCQo-ZI/AAAAAAAAALY/BqWX4SJyzdg/s1600-h/DSCF1395copy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSCF1395 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="DSCF1395 copy" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5YjKMh7I/AAAAAAAAALc/cPwQWBJSthI/DSCF1395copy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5ZYpqHFI/AAAAAAAAALg/4gFN2gA9lIk/s1600-h/DSCF1389copycopy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSCF1389 copy copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="229" alt="DSCF1389 copy copy" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5ZtOlQpI/AAAAAAAAALk/-SKNkcSpVYo/DSCF1389copycopy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Someone finally found a way to shut me up.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Today was the day, I mean THE DAY.&amp;#160; Pretty much the last two years of my life have been building up to today, the day I met Zachary Quinto.&amp;#160; Maybe it shouldn’t be such a big deal, but through this guy I have made some of the very best friends a girl could ask for, friends I’m sure will be with me to the end.&amp;#160; In a funny sort of way, this guy means the world to me mainly because I wouldn’t love the people I love right now if it wasn’t for him.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Myself, Mabes and Kat started queuing at 11am to see the 5:30pm panel featuring ZQ and his production company &lt;a href="http://www.beforethedoor.com/"&gt;Before The Door&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;#160; I was front row centre for a whole bunch of panels that, though very good, I knew very little about.&amp;#160; I had guilt, big time guilt, like I was a Twilight fan.&amp;#160; If it wasn’t for the god awful fangirls around me I would have thought I was as bad as them, but their terrible behaviour kept me grounded and safe in the knowledge that although I was eager, I was NOT one of them!&amp;#160; The Archaia panel did not disappoint, even without ZQ it would have been interesting.&amp;#160; Jeff Loeb came out as the surprise guest, I think I cheered more for him than I did for Zach, in fact, I know I did.&amp;#160; It was a lovely surprise, he was such a fan favourite, it made me remember how upset I was when he was dropped from Heroes.&amp;#160; Anyway, back on topic, the books Archaia are working on and that are due for release all sound excellent, even I will be straying from my normal manga path to check them out.&amp;#160; You can check out their releases &lt;a href="http://www.archaiasp.com/"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;#160; I will be uploading my photos from this panel at some point in the very near future, check back for updates.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;As soon as the panel ended everyone, including myself, Mabes, Kirsty &amp;amp; Kat were whisked away to avoid the fangirl menace.&amp;#160; I still don’t know how Zach left the room.&amp;#160; Neal (Before The Door) told us to follow him quickly, which we did.&amp;#160; Zach WAS behind us but somehow managed to get to the holding room before we did (powarz?).&amp;#160; Once inside, Zach was, as we had no doubt that he would be, a true gentleman.&amp;#160; Very grateful for the work we have done, very humble and somehow has the ability to stare right into your soul, which while very exciting was also really unsettling!&amp;#160; I actually think he was trying to work out if I wear contact lenses or not, I’ve never had anyone look at me that intently before, it was quite wonderful. *blushes*&amp;#160; He signed my canvas, actually he did a better job with that than I could have hoped, I would have been happy with just his name, but he went the distance and totally personalised it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5aRD7-YI/AAAAAAAAALo/0H69LTdrjBA/s1600-h/Archaiapanel_0197copy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Archaia panel_0197 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="Archaia panel_0197 copy" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5a6RJeVI/AAAAAAAAALs/EFTEkS9HkRI/Archaiapanel_0197copy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img title="Archaia panel_0199 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="193" alt="Archaia panel_0199 copy" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5bWAiaiI/AAAAAAAAALw/Y10EKV8kuzM/Archaiapanel_0199copy_thumb4.jpg?imgmax=800" width="203" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I shot so many photos at the panel, it will take a little while to organise them, but I hope to get them online ASAP, more than likely this will be once I get back to England.&amp;#160; In the mean time, I will leave you with these little teasers…&amp;#160; Hope you have enjoyed reading!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5b26mTbI/AAAAAAAAAL0/GhcFHLQL3cM/s1600-h/Archaiapanel_0188copy5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Archaia panel_0188 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="Archaia panel_0188 copy" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5cCC7IkI/AAAAAAAAAL4/4cRg17OrxJk/Archaiapanel_0188copy_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="165" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5c91gTtI/AAAAAAAAAL8/pg1YSXsYyos/s1600-h/Archaiapanel_0034copycopy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Archaia panel_0034 copy copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="Archaia panel_0034 copy copy" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5dXDHxXI/AAAAAAAAAMA/DWLYR5XvVdA/Archaiapanel_0034copycopy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="193" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5eNiJatI/AAAAAAAAAME/cW4Smcr08Dg/s1600-h/Archaiapanel_0076copy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Archaia panel_0076 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="126" alt="Archaia panel_0076 copy" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5ejNVTLI/AAAAAAAAAMI/fCUpPWs5rx4/Archaiapanel_0076copy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5e68zL-I/AAAAAAAAAMM/nsf4fWs7EVg/s1600-h/Archaiapanel_0169copy5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Archaia panel_0169 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="Archaia panel_0169 copy" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5ferUpLI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/JCybCfRS9j4/Archaiapanel_0169copy_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="176" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5f1CqqBI/AAAAAAAAAMU/wwJtclomucA/s1600-h/Archaiapanel_0182copycopy5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Archaia panel_0182 copy copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="244" alt="Archaia panel_0182 copy copy" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SnC5gOFp7wI/AAAAAAAAAMY/tF7rXK7dtVQ/Archaiapanel_0182copycopy_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;xXx&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-1053288471727674827?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/1053288471727674827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/07/san-diego-comic-con-09-heroes-geeks.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/1053288471727674827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/1053288471727674827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/07/san-diego-comic-con-09-heroes-geeks.html' title='San Diego Comic Con ‘09 – Heroes, geeks, fangirls &amp;amp; ZQ'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Sm3IqsxxKkI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PkjKiv7S37c/s72-c/Archaiapanel_0076_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-2985383183396040309</id><published>2009-06-26T10:29:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T10:58:24.404+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Michael Jackson's strange influence on my life.</title><content type='html'>Micheal Jackson introduced me to my all time favourite actor, Vincent Price when I was &lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt;, and for that I am grateful.  Sure I would have discovered him sooner or later because I loved old movies back then, as I still do, but to find someone so great when I was just &lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;6&lt;/span&gt; years old, could only really have been down to Jackson using him for Thriller.  I truly appreciate discovering Vincent Price at such a young age because it gave me extra years of enjoying his work, and a real grounding/understanding of cinema.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Micheal really is dead then I feel for his family, but one of the first things I thought was thank god those kids have a chance at a relatively normal life now.  It isn't right for kids to have the life they had, it's cruel.  Hopefully they will be well looked after and any kind of damage from their childhood won't harm them in their adult lives.&lt;br /&gt;I won't lie, I'm enjoying the jokes but I'm also thinking of my friends who were big fans and how sad they must be today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than anything though I am reminiscing about how much I loved Vincent Price's part on Thriller when I was small.  I remember reciting his lines over and over again, I think it might have been the first thing I actively made an effort memorize.&lt;br /&gt;Price in turn introduced me to the world of Edgar Allan Poe just &lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;3&lt;/span&gt; years later when I was &lt;span title="Convert this amount" class="currency_converter_link"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt; (possibly a little too young, I have mild claustrophobia and a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;massive&lt;/span&gt; fear of being buried alive).  I think all this has a lot to do with my love of the macabre.  I'm certain that, along with my love of watching funerals and hanging around in the cemetery behind my house, helped to shape the person I am today.  Kind of a big deal considering Thriller was just a song.  I do appreciate it because I like the person I am.  I like the influence it has had on my work.  I like that my love and knowledge of cinema is rich and varied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember how utterly distraught I was when Vincent Price passed away.  That I would never hear him say anything new, that Edward &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Scissorhands&lt;/span&gt; would be the last thing I would ever see him in.  I imagine these are the feelings Jackson fans are feeling now.  How horrible and sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in a round about way, I'd like to say thank you to Michael Jackson.  I may not have been a fan, but despite being a strange person and very controversial figure, he brought a great deal of happiness to an incredible amount of people across the globe, and there is something very special about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SkSY7M-yz3I/AAAAAAAAAKg/RC3zcVk8yQA/s1600-h/0000546169-44776L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SkSY7M-yz3I/AAAAAAAAAKg/RC3zcVk8yQA/s320/0000546169-44776L.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351570400087297906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vincent Price - Master of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Macabre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-2985383183396040309?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/2985383183396040309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/micheal-jackson-introduced-me-to-my-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/2985383183396040309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/2985383183396040309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/micheal-jackson-introduced-me-to-my-all.html' title='Michael Jackson&apos;s strange influence on my life.'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SkSY7M-yz3I/AAAAAAAAAKg/RC3zcVk8yQA/s72-c/0000546169-44776L.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-3531105263108294416</id><published>2009-06-07T19:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T19:10:08.656+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The long awaited final Japan blog (aka MechaBlog)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Those of you reading this that know me, will know that my time in Japan this year was sadly cut short. This was purely due to some bad luck and is nobody's fault. Had I known how quickly I was going to end up back in England, I would have posted another blog far sooner! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This blog will be pretty much what it was going to be while I was in Japan, a recount of the last few days. It just so happens that these actually were my &lt;i&gt;last&lt;/i&gt; few days and the end of the blog will tell of my flight home, rather than what would have been coming next.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So let us start at the beginning of last week and the place I was so excited about visiting; the seaside!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB7-jzuhI/AAAAAAAAAGU/HVKR7KChOf8/s1600-h/CIMG3257copy4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3257 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="169" alt="CIMG3257 copy" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB8F9yafI/AAAAAAAAAGY/cL2Obv7fwgE/CIMG3257copy_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I pwn the sea&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It was a fairly early start, 6am, but that didn't bother me in the slightest as being by the sea is one of the few things on this planet that gives me pure joy. We were picked up by Junko's friend Ito-san, a very kind and lovely man who was happy to offer to take us, if only so he could have a 'family' day out. He sadly lost his wife and daughter some years ago, but you could tell how excited he was for us all to spend the day together. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB8hc7R0I/AAAAAAAAAGc/zc8WQ2K6KYI/s1600-h/CIMG3236copy4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3236 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="CIMG3236 copy" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB82hg_uI/AAAAAAAAAGg/mqqyTHC3mko/CIMG3236copy_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="185" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ito-san, a very kind and gentle man.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After about an hour and a half I could see the coast and couldn't contain my whoop for joy. We stopped off at a large building from which we were able to view the whole area, it was incredible, but all I wanted to do was get in that sea! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:bf304251-3122-46e6-af0f-6a17c5ea66ce" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;div id="f0f9e521-50b7-4a36-a442-3f7e8ce51273" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m36_3lszIwU" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB9dM7dYI/AAAAAAAAAGk/cRooKW0a1wo/videocb114a10f1ff%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('f0f9e521-50b7-4a36-a442-3f7e8ce51273'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = &amp;quot;&amp;lt;div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;object width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=\&amp;quot;movie\&amp;quot; value=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/m36_3lszIwU&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;embed src=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/m36_3lszIwU&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot; type=\&amp;quot;application/x-shockwave-flash\&amp;quot; width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/embed&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/object&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/div&amp;gt;&amp;quot;;" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Unfortunately, it was time for an early lunch (to beat the crowds), so I would have to wait just a little while longer. We found a lovely little place with good food at incredibly cheap prices. I was lucky enough to shoot off a load of photos just before an ENORMOUS family with about 300 children under the age of 5 came and sat next to us.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB92L270I/AAAAAAAAAGo/vRhrU9gu0CQ/s1600-h/Seaside_00739.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Seaside_0073" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="Seaside_0073" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB-BI1OTI/AAAAAAAAAGs/4_5h0byctYk/Seaside_0073_thumb5.jpg?imgmax=800" width="160" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Our room in the restaurant, before the madness.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After the food, it was time for THE SEEEEEEA!!!! The moment the car stopped I was out of the door and in the water like the child I really am. The area reminded me so much of the beach I used to play at while my Nanna lived by the sea, I felt completely at home. Searching for life in rock pools, climbing among the rocks, feeling the pebbles push between my toes, it's just the most natural feeling in the world for me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:251638d7-2893-425c-98ad-753edf52996b" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;div id="649c43ae-22a9-4dd4-8906-ddee7ad06dec" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rMEH05lOQI" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB-ma47xI/AAAAAAAAAGw/R6Ot6FiW__w/videoed9008c5bb33%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('649c43ae-22a9-4dd4-8906-ddee7ad06dec'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = &amp;quot;&amp;lt;div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;object width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=\&amp;quot;movie\&amp;quot; value=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/3rMEH05lOQI&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;embed src=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/3rMEH05lOQI&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot; type=\&amp;quot;application/x-shockwave-flash\&amp;quot; width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/embed&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/object&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/div&amp;gt;&amp;quot;;" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;The starfish at the end of this video was totally fine, I just panicked, like I always do!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB_T-YP3I/AAAAAAAAAG0/F_i2mUH-7Tk/s1600-h/CIMG32384.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3238" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="185" alt="CIMG3238" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB_ostCLI/AAAAAAAAAG4/IS4iDRQXcEg/CIMG3238_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Crabs shed their skins like snakes –I never knew!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3195" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="181" alt="CIMG3195" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB_wkljYI/AAAAAAAAAG8/reBdfBf-I3A/CIMG3195_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt; There were lots of these pretty blue starfish.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCApTIPDI/AAAAAAAAAHA/bmO0PiS02Co/s1600-h/CIMG32143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3214" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3214" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCBP7BCBI/AAAAAAAAAHE/AwhvosBNKEU/CIMG3214_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCBuGlybI/AAAAAAAAAHI/A21e6_8jNaM/s1600-h/CIMG32223.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3222" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3222" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCCOYAi-I/AAAAAAAAAHM/sROcqDIeXGY/CIMG3222_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Yuki and Junko collected seaweed for us to have with dinner later, Ito-san wandered around just enjoying the area, I sat on a large rock, legs in the sea, a serene grin on my face.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCCj3plII/AAAAAAAAAHQ/cGGH7ggAfAA/s1600-h/CIMG3259copy4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3259 copy" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="CIMG3259 copy" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCC1QguvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/CQWQFBA4nmg/CIMG3259copy_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="181" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just leave me here, seriously.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;Then, woe of woes, it was time to move on. We got back in the car and drove a little way until we noticed there was a festival happening in a nearby temple, of course, we had to go and take a look! At first I was startled by the beautiful flowers, the kind you expect to see recreated in kanzashi form in a geisha's hair, not in 'real life'. I took a few photos around the temple and then went to see what all the noise was about. I crossed a bridge to find several young people lifting and walking around with a mini shrine. I say mini, but the things actually weighed 500kg. The participants have to get incredibly drunk before starting the ceremony and every year someone dies either during the festival or during the practise. These ceremonies happen in hundreds of temples all over Japan, the fact the death is so closely linked to it makes the event all the more worthwhile for the participants. At one point during the video below, you will see a man dancing with a large picture. The picture is of one of the members who 'didn't make it' to the ceremony.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCEKPP2oI/AAAAAAAAAHY/lu1MXKUtqzU/s1600-h/Seaside_01014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Seaside_0101" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Seaside_0101" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCEZ4nvWI/AAAAAAAAAHc/HZ4XViKeIpw/Seaside_0101_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sooo beautiful!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCFGiCekI/AAAAAAAAAHg/mqTQDbGUOdg/s1600-h/Seaside_01254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Seaside_0125" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="Seaside_0125" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCFYP8J7I/AAAAAAAAAHk/Iz4zaZwkPzw/Seaside_0125_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="160" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My house.&amp;#160; …ahem.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCGqpH3-I/AAAAAAAAAHo/1X-BA7YG6jw/s1600-h/Seaside_014410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Seaside_0144" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Seaside_0144" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCG5iQkhI/AAAAAAAAAHs/9Z0PRjkXZfE/Seaside_0144_thumb6.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seeing plastic masks at these festivals is almost as old a tradition as the festivals themselves! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:ef94723f-a176-4108-83c3-29a858fc6803" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;div id="16c50bbc-7d59-4000-b368-323c13f0235a" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uye9Re6lmNs" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCHbcY_LI/AAAAAAAAAHw/hPLnPz1H_P0/video569d7392de50%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('16c50bbc-7d59-4000-b368-323c13f0235a'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = &amp;quot;&amp;lt;div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;object width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=\&amp;quot;movie\&amp;quot; value=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/uye9Re6lmNs&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;embed src=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/uye9Re6lmNs&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot; type=\&amp;quot;application/x-shockwave-flash\&amp;quot; width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/embed&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/object&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/div&amp;gt;&amp;quot;;" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCIKb5J_I/AAAAAAAAAH0/rq3k0PoT2AU/s1600-h/Seaside_02254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Seaside_0225" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Seaside_0225" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCIkhm_VI/AAAAAAAAAH4/_BtoCvmXZ5c/Seaside_0225_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My other house…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After we had seen enough of this (it went on for some time), we got back in the car and went to check out a famous bakery that was very near by. This bakery only sells one thing, bean paste buns. I wasn't very hungry, but by all accounts they were delicious, and the shop owners had no problems with me taking photos while they were working. It was a lovely place, so rustic, it was totally stuck in the 1960's. I have encountered quite a few cafes and restaurants like this, I wonder why I never see such places in movies -they are perfect sets! This was our last stop for the day. We got back in the car and made a start on the journey home. I slept the whole way home, something I very rarely do, must have been all the sea air... ;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCJjTaztI/AAAAAAAAAH8/qslJuKxS-ZE/s1600-h/Seaside_02643.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Seaside_0264" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Seaside_0264" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCKbMqnqI/AAAAAAAAAIA/sXw5WKwpeAg/Seaside_0264_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;^&amp;#160; Making bean paste buns!&amp;#160; v&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCK8pUZtI/AAAAAAAAAIE/LwmNZT1BRDU/s1600-h/Seaside_02583.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Seaside_0258" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Seaside_0258" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCLXJtUCI/AAAAAAAAAII/FJllDOHe_PA/Seaside_0258_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Next up was the Doll Festival. Yuki's friend had a stall there and had kindly offered me some space to test the Japanese water for my friend's awesome t-shirts. (&lt;a href="http://www.genkigear.co.uk"&gt;www.genkigear.co.uk&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCL6rzk-I/AAAAAAAAAIM/ZvxotoLF6DU/s1600-h/Local4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Local!" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="Local!" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCMOts8SI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/TFwos0izVbY/Local_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="176" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a local shop for local people! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It was a fairly strange affair, thousands upon thousands of people walking around carrying their dolls as if they were children. Men did it as well, straight men, some in business suits, some in crappy clothes, but all of them holding their dolls with such care and making sure these dolls were comfortable and able to get a good view of the whole event. Age, sex, style and race were irrelevant here, as long as you loved your dolls, you were welcome.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I'm not often thrown by anything, I find the fact that I have such an open mind to be one of the strongest areas of my personality, but this doll loving, I just don't get it. Perhaps it's because I had a massive fear of porcelain dolls as a child, or perhaps, despite loving He-Man and Transformers, I grew up in a world where boys just didn't play with girls toys, where girls who carried on playing with dolls after the age of 10 were immature and a little stupid. Either way, these people seemed to be very happy and content, and I certainly would never take that away from them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The next day a trip to Ueno was planned. The point of going to Ueno? To get my new dog Flynn a dog protection charm from the same place Harry's came from ...of course!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCND4HsxI/AAAAAAAAAIU/G6mnSHhWbkA/s1600-h/Ueno_00264.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Ueno_0026" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Ueno_0026" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCNlrcnvI/AAAAAAAAAIY/AnvyP4nAW3A/Ueno_0026_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Downtown Ueno &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Yuki was feeling a too unwell, but insisted I go anyway and meet up with Izumi who I met on my first day of this trip. We had a GREAT day, one of my favourites to be exact, which makes me so happy because without knowing at the time, this day would be my last proper day in Japan.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We met at Ueno station and promptly went searching for the temple I had to get the dog charm from. On the way there we stopped at a couple of smaller temples and then found something rather incredible, a flame. This wasn't just any flame, this was a flame taken created by 2 nuclear bombs, one which fell in Hiroshima, the other from Nagasaki.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCOaMUkhI/AAAAAAAAAIc/c2JVNlq2Wms/s1600-h/Ueno_00366.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Ueno_0036" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Ueno_0036" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCOxdUVVI/AAAAAAAAAIg/3UENtxXodtk/Ueno_0036_thumb4.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCQfPqPYI/AAAAAAAAAIk/WSiQ_KrvSqo/s1600-h/Ueno_00404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Ueno_0040" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Ueno_0040" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCQ0JQM6I/AAAAAAAAAIo/yMcLhLHNYgE/Ueno_0040_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCRdzKbzI/AAAAAAAAAIs/dRDET2uGfsM/s1600-h/Ueno_00424.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Ueno_0042" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Ueno_0042" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCRk1nAAI/AAAAAAAAAIw/TYzho5fFy9I/Ueno_0042_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm not ashamed to say that this almost brought a tear to my eye and certainly brought a lump to my throat.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;As a teenager I was incredibly anti-bomb, in 1995 the French President Jacques Chirac decided it would be a good idea to test nuclear bombs, I was overcome with anger. Anger at him for even thinking that such a weapon could be used in the future and at myself for being too young to do anything about it. So, I reacted the only way I knew how and did a huge art project about the effects of nuclear bombs. Of course, almost all my inspiration came from the photographs and footage of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki attacks. Seeing such images every day, drawing them, painting them, I grew incredibly close to the subject matter. Even though I was just 15, I still consider the final piece and the work leading up to it some of my finest art, because it was created with so much passion, emotion and understanding that it was as if I was actually there -of course, a highly visual &amp;amp; over-active imagination also helps!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The memorial in Ueno is a very fine way of reminding the world of the devastation a nuclear bomb can cause, and if you are ever in Tokyo I urge you to take the time to visit it and spare a thought for those who fell and those who still suffer.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After the memorial Izumi and I wandered into the Peony Garden. It was so beautiful, even on such a grey day. All the flowers had their own private umbrella to protect them from the elements, be they snow or sun. So much care had gone into keeping these little flowers happy and beautiful, it really was a joy to see.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCSrwv7BI/AAAAAAAAAI0/L_2I8Dghwz0/s1600-h/Ueno_00914.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Ueno_0091" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="160" alt="Ueno_0091" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCTI_SdQI/AAAAAAAAAI4/KhmJjWnhiXM/Ueno_0091_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The peony’s had more protection from the rain than we did!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Finally we found the right temple for picking up the dig charms and as we did the heavens opened and well, didn't actually close again until late that night. It poured, and poured and poured some more. I got the charms, and we tried to dodge the raindrops on the way into downtown Ueno. After a little browse there we went on to Asakusa where we found some adorable little shops that sold trinkets etc made out of kimono material. I didn't buy a thing, no matter how much I loved some of the pieces. I am still very proud of myself! After a delicious lunch we decided to head to Shibuya, just because I hadn't had a chance to really give it some time *read as 'Visit The Loft'*. We stopped by Shibuya 109 first as I had never been there and was slightly curious. It's tall building with many, many small shops with clothes specifically for the Shibuya Girl. I am NOT a Shibuya Girl, I am a Harajuku Girl, the two don't tend to get on. I certainly didn't feel comfortable, I felt totally out of my area. Even though I was not born and raised in Tokyo, I know the areas where my kind (Loli/Otaku-types) are more welcome, and as such, I am more likely to frequent such places. Shibuya is great for shopping, but if you are just hanging around and wearing black, it doesn't go down well. I remember the last time I was here I wore clothes that subtly showed my Loli-allegience, I was practically stared out of Shibuya by a bunch of Ganguro. Despite staring back just as hard, I knew I was the one out of area. Sad really.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Once we left Shibuya 109, we made a B-Line straight for The Loft. Oh The Loft, how I love you... It's a huge department store with a massive stationary floor, an awesome toy floor and so many floors of joy in-between. I found a stationary soul-mate in Izumi. I think she will have tgo back me up on this, but we may have spent an hour on that one stationary floor alone. The Danger Floor. So named because of the danger it can cause to your purse. So. Many. STICKERS!!!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;After managing to escape the stationary floor (with purchases), we started making our way up, stopping on each floor to look at things we wanted but couldn't buy, things that served no real purpose other than to look really cool. Like the glowing large reeds of 'grass' that blow like read grass when a fan is put near them. Or the huge cuddly bear pillows that will hug you right back. We finally made it to the top floor, the toy section, where we found the most awesome fancy dress hats! I am a HUGE takoyaki fan (octopus dumplings) so imagine my joy when I found a takoyaki hat! Izumi and I tried on various hats, stopping for photos each time, but the takoyaki hats remained a firm favourite for us both. Before I knew it, it was time for me to depart and make the long journey back to Narita. I was very sad because it had been such a fun day ...and I had left my ipod at the house that morning.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCUIAh80I/AAAAAAAAAI8/X28jnb4-d28/s1600-h/CIMG33384.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3338" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3338" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCUVBWccI/AAAAAAAAAJA/NNpJSSPif6E/CIMG3338_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCVSzYT4I/AAAAAAAAAJE/LsVrVS1zf44/s1600-h/CIMG33427.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3342" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3342" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCVkHq6_I/AAAAAAAAAJI/pD1yoTTy1os/CIMG3342_thumb5.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCWiXhKWI/AAAAAAAAAJM/X36jk4fty94/s1600-h/CIMG33453.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3345" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3345" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCXOJMjVI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/jf0FvgicGug/CIMG3345_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCYAMdjgI/AAAAAAAAAJU/2g4S-icJGlE/s1600-h/CIMG33473.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3347" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3347" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCYQBcv4I/AAAAAAAAAJY/HgULAbXaGq8/CIMG3347_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCZfKw8SI/AAAAAAAAAJc/9GPIeDInkns/s1600-h/CIMG33487.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3348" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3348" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCZ9_cfHI/AAAAAAAAAJg/E3BfoA3kO4w/CIMG3348_thumb3.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We decided there can be no hat better than a Takoyaki Hat.&amp;#160; Thanks for a wonderful day Izumi!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Due to reasons beyond anyone's control, I had to spend the next day packing in preparation for my early departure from Japan. Yuki had become very ill and my wonderful friend Hiroko, who I was due to spend the remainder of my holiday with, had dislocated her shoulder. I wish them both speedy recoveries.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCaUKMXHI/AAAAAAAAAJk/EhGPxxKIPyQ/s1600-h/CIMG33685.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3368" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3368" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCarujpHI/AAAAAAAAAJo/8HMjIc32vek/CIMG3368_thumb3.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It becomes very clear that my life has a distinct colour theme!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I flew home the next day, Friday 8th of May. That morning I was woken at 4:20am by terrific thunder so loud and so constant that I couldn't tell if it was an earthquake or just weather. I didn't go back to sleep and instead just lay on my futon listening to nature do it's thing and thought about some decisions I would have to make when I got back home. Storms always help me to put things into perspective. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Skip ahead a few hours and I have just purchased my new flight, had to remove most of my clothes in order to get past security (but also told by 3 members of staff that my things were really cool, of course, I know... :P), bought a giant novelty box of Pocky, and am sat on the runway for the next hour due to bad weather.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCbd0OaCI/AAAAAAAAAJs/if7oixfk2p0/s1600-h/CIMG33755.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3375" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3375" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCb_k2rQI/AAAAAAAAAJw/TmRkQP87LWA/CIMG3375_thumb3.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the departure lounge at Narita Airport.&amp;#160; NOT 1st Class!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCcx-zCfI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/QcWOJ2vWmrw/s1600-h/CIMG33725.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3372" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3372" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCdWMTWgI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Tj7xwHoad8k/CIMG3372_thumb3.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This stuff finds me, I swear!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCd8bKYQI/AAAAAAAAAKE/HpQS54uqErk/s1600-h/CIMG33814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3381" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="180" alt="CIMG3381" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCeFQL0dI/AAAAAAAAAKI/wwQCujNEreE/CIMG3381_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Boooooriiing….&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There were just 76 people and 13 staff (inc pilots) on my Friday morning post-Golden Week Virgin Alantic flight, a sign of recession if ever there was one. Finally we were able to take off. I caught some good movies (If you haven't seen Milk, please watch it!) and yet again, ignored my own advice and watched Flight of the Conchords (and then Family Guy -what was I thinking?!). I didn't sleep. The flight seemed much shorter than before, strange as I was on the plane for well over an hour longer than my previous flight. I guess by that point I really just wanted to be at home with my family and pets.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCeVPjeFI/AAAAAAAAAKM/RxUKCtEkHbg/s1600-h/CIMG3388copybw4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3388 copy bw" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="CIMG3388 copy bw" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCeiT2PLI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/emO4a5O9jR4/CIMG3388copybw_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="179" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Swine Flu madness.&amp;#160; There was barely anyone on the flight without a mask on. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCfM7sFII/AAAAAAAAAKU/KAlFrYtp7f0/s1600-h/CIMG34064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="CIMG3406" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: block; border-left-width: 0px; float: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="CIMG3406" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCfRuy_UI/AAAAAAAAAKY/qpdrclysW0Y/CIMG3406_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="180" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&amp;#160; My England.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;This was a great trip, and I will always concentrate on the fun times I had before I had to come home early. This certainly won't be my last time in Japan and this won't be my last blog either. The blog was originally set up to document my time there, but I will be continuing to post when I can, be it thoughts on certain events, things I want to share with you all, or even my photography. For now though, I will leave you with a parting gift. A video, of the greatest most pointless toy in the land. My Gloomy bear.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:21a14631-5779-49ed-8d0a-17f9d39080c8" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;div id="ce4b5a46-e312-4f38-a53f-9ef371691a2d" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OrDlig2Ij8" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwCf1yA_YI/AAAAAAAAAKc/eXQCH6LZYso/video0bbc5b6d731d%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('ce4b5a46-e312-4f38-a53f-9ef371691a2d'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = &amp;quot;&amp;lt;div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;object width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=\&amp;quot;movie\&amp;quot; value=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/2OrDlig2Ij8&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;embed src=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/2OrDlig2Ij8&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot; type=\&amp;quot;application/x-shockwave-flash\&amp;quot; width=\&amp;quot;425\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;355\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/embed&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/object&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/div&amp;gt;&amp;quot;;" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-3531105263108294416?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/3531105263108294416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/long-awaited-final-japan-blog-aka.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/3531105263108294416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/3531105263108294416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/06/long-awaited-final-japan-blog-aka.html' title='The long awaited final Japan blog (aka MechaBlog)'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SiwB8F9yafI/AAAAAAAAAGY/cL2Obv7fwgE/s72-c/CIMG3257copy_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-7577476491799606871</id><published>2009-05-01T16:12:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T17:38:06.819+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The last few days (Very full blog!)</title><content type='html'>Hi there!&lt;br /&gt;It's been a few days, I apologise.I have had a busy few days! Shopping, checking out a doll festival, shopping, taking project photos in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Shinjuku&lt;/span&gt;, shopping, visiting the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ghibli&lt;/span&gt; Museum, shopping and enjoying some of the local sites that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Narita&lt;/span&gt; has to offer.  As such, this is a pretty big blog with lots of videos and pictures, so if you can stick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;with it&lt;/span&gt; and not get too bored, I hope you will enjoy it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets start with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Harajuku&lt;/span&gt; Doll Festival. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; and I were given free tickets as a gift because on my first day here I ...ahem, spent quite a few yen in a clothes shop based in the same building.&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday, after some browsing around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Harajuku&lt;/span&gt; we battled through the crowds and film crews that had gathered for the opening of the first Japanese 'Forever 21' store and made our way to the doll festival.&lt;br /&gt;Dolls in Japan are not like dolls in the rest of the world. They tend to be very dark creatures, often portrayed as being children, dead children, innocent/sexual beings and/or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;androgynous&lt;/span&gt; beauties. Personally I like the ones that look like dead children best, but I'm sure you all guessed that. ;)&lt;br /&gt;The quality of these dolls is just incredible, some of the features are so fine, it's like these creations actually have souls. I have never been a fan of china dolls, as a child I knew a few girls who had a lot and they freaked me out (I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;preferred&lt;/span&gt; He-Man), but I like these dolls, very much.&lt;br /&gt;That said, I couldn't have an alive looking one in my bedroom, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;waaaay&lt;/span&gt; too creepy for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsUWyIDB8I/AAAAAAAAADo/whei4lCoak8/s1600-h/Shinjuku_0567.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsUWyIDB8I/AAAAAAAAADo/whei4lCoak8/s320/Shinjuku_0567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330876965568317378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Various doll faces and hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsUieETDRI/AAAAAAAAADw/GkQEEaQtdkY/s1600-h/Shinjuku_0556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsUieETDRI/AAAAAAAAADw/GkQEEaQtdkY/s320/Shinjuku_0556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330877166342311186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A small section of a much bigger set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a shop and some food we went on to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Shinjuku&lt;/span&gt;, sleazy, wonderful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Shinjuku&lt;/span&gt;, now mostly owned my the Triads (Chinese mafia).&lt;br /&gt;I had to shoot the last part of my uni project there, so we needed to wait until it was dark for the pictures to be perfect.&lt;br /&gt;While we wandered around trying to find the best spot, I shot a couple of little tours for your enjoyment. Please note, not all photographers are great cameramen,&lt;br /&gt;I am the PERFECT example of that, in short, I can't shoot movies for shit, so take some motion sickness tablets and sit back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;An alley in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Shinjuku&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/l6Y6Ktm_D_8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l6Y6Ktm_D_8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short walk through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Shinjuku&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YY8KNeb860Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YY8KNeb860Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was another busy one.  I woke up at 5:45am (also known as Stupid-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;O'clock&lt;/span&gt;) so we could leave to catch the bus at 7am.  I didn't mind one bit as we were going to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Ghibli&lt;/span&gt; Museum.  I am a MASSIVE Studio &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Ghibli&lt;/span&gt; fan, so this was a particularly special event for me.  The rules of the museum are strict.  No photos, food, drinks, mobile phones, no one over the age of 11 is to sit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;in the&lt;/span&gt; Cat-Bus (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;boooo&lt;/span&gt;!) or anything else that could spoil the experience for others.  I was slightly concerned as I don't do incredibly well with rules, but it was fine.  The rules worked, everyone had a great time as there were no outside influences whatsoever.  I saw an exclusive 20 minutes film a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Totoro&lt;/span&gt; spin-off about Mai and the son of Cat-Bus, it was so perfect I may have shed a little tear...  Maybe...  If anyone reading this has plans to visit Japan, please, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;please&lt;/span&gt; set aside some time for this fantastic museum.  It only costs 1000yen (£5 when the economy is behaving itself) and takes just 2 hours to see, a little more if you want to have a good shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsW50GbnCI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ALFHGtMX4_U/s1600-h/Ghibli+Museum_0799.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsW50GbnCI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ALFHGtMX4_U/s320/Ghibli+Museum_0799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330879766417087522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caretaker Robot from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Laputa&lt;/span&gt;: Castle in the Sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Ghibli&lt;/span&gt; we visited a few shops, one of which was a small boutique selling exclusive modern looking silver jewellery with traditional Japanese designs.  I did not budget for this shop, but the pieces were so beautiful and so exclusive, I just couldn't leave them in the shop.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Yuki&lt;/span&gt; told me I will most likely be the only person in the whole of the U.K. with these pieces of jewellery.  This makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;We then went to a HUGE shop that sold crafty things and toys etc, more money spent.  Afterwards we went to an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;otaku&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;mecha&lt;/span&gt;.  Super-geeks need only apply, this place was FULL of retro toys from every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;manga&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;anime&lt;/span&gt; or movie you could think of.  Except the 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;animes&lt;/span&gt; that I was looking for ...probably a good thing though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we took a break from shopping THANK GOD(!), and looked after our souls by visiting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Narita&lt;/span&gt; Temple and the surrounding area which is like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;chibi&lt;/span&gt; version of Kyoto.  I always love to visit temples, Shinto or Buddhist.  They have an aura of calm around them that I am unable to feel anywhere else; just so welcoming and non-judgemental.  I have never had that feeling in a church, in fact, I have felt the opposite for as long as I can remember.  If Japan didn't sell so many cool things, I could quite happily spend my time visiting temples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Sfsa4IFh5AI/AAAAAAAAAEA/9WzNnlg3jcg/s1600-h/Pictures_0062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/Sfsa4IFh5AI/AAAAAAAAAEA/9WzNnlg3jcg/s320/Pictures_0062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330884135468786690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just one of the beautiful views from the temple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsbQHxL3VI/AAAAAAAAAEI/LxVUbB_zs1k/s1600-h/Pictures_0204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsbQHxL3VI/AAAAAAAAAEI/LxVUbB_zs1k/s320/Pictures_0204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330884547700317522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All the buildings in this shopping area are well over 100 years old or more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And now for some more videos!  Please check out the descriptions on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Youtube&lt;/span&gt; pages for more info.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gTS-wI_hrqo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gTS-wI_hrqo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is part of our bus journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1beCOlXP0aE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1beCOlXP0aE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a video I shot so you can have a small tour of the front of the temple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zeGByFJ93MA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zeGByFJ93MA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back we saw these women practising their dance routine for a show they must be doing next week (Golden Week).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wxdhlURnOas&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wxdhlURnOas&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, because I only just uploaded it, here is a video that should have gone on my last blog.  It is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Yuki's&lt;/span&gt; mother's music group performing an ancient samurai song.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Junko&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Yuki's&lt;/span&gt; mother AKA my Mama) sings the solo part.  She has a great voice, though the style of music and singing is very different to what most Western ears are used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, that is all for today.  I have a few more exciting days ahead of me, visiting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;Narita&lt;/span&gt; again tomorrow, because I love it there, then I am going to the coast on Monday!  I adore the sea, really I do, I like to hug it when I see it.  It gets excited and sprays me.  :P  Sorry, I should really go to bed now!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;Hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoyed this!  It's always nice when people enjoy what I have written, to those of you who let me know, thank you.  (^_^)v&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-7577476491799606871?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/7577476491799606871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/hi-there-its-been-few-days-i-apologise.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/7577476491799606871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/7577476491799606871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/05/hi-there-its-been-few-days-i-apologise.html' title='The last few days (Very full blog!)'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfsUWyIDB8I/AAAAAAAAADo/whei4lCoak8/s72-c/Shinjuku_0567.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-7036705596936112350</id><published>2009-04-27T13:46:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T14:57:21.465+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nakey and stuff!</title><content type='html'>As I type this, I am feeling particularly tired and I have a headache, so this could be quite crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had an interesting couple of days staying in Narita.  Yesterday we had a well deserved lazy morning and then made out way to Folklore Village.  It's an Edo style village in every way possible, with traditional crafts and experiences.  I managed to find some trees with their last few blossom petals - so lucky!  I decorated a candle (more fun than it sounds) and tried on some geta.  Of course they had to be men's geta, and I got into quite a sulk about that as women's geta are so much prettier.  Booo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcLIejExTI/AAAAAAAAADI/vbDgufoZjx4/s1600-h/Folklore+Village_0084+-+Copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcLIejExTI/AAAAAAAAADI/vbDgufoZjx4/s320/Folklore+Village_0084+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329740924283307314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Posing with blossoms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcHN-m6doI/AAAAAAAAACw/_54sIaO0kdU/s1600-h/Japan+%2709+1_0310.2+small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcHN-m6doI/AAAAAAAAACw/_54sIaO0kdU/s320/Japan+%2709+1_0310.2+small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329736620742178434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some geta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcGgBqZdDI/AAAAAAAAACQ/XeStbaWppgA/s1600-h/Folklore+Village_0075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcGgBqZdDI/AAAAAAAAACQ/XeStbaWppgA/s320/Folklore+Village_0075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329735831288116274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Damn clown feet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcHNc232XI/AAAAAAAAACY/Sv6h0s1Laa0/s1600-h/Japan+%2709+1_0221+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcHNc232XI/AAAAAAAAACY/Sv6h0s1Laa0/s320/Japan+%2709+1_0221+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329736611682310514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Making a candle -never done &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; before!  :/ Lol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't have as much time to enjoy the village as we had hoped (lazy mornings you see -shite!), so we are going back at least once more to experience things such as tea ceremony and kimono wearing.  I can't wait, they looked so much fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we went to see Yuki's mother Junko (now 'Mama' to me) practise with her music group.  She sings beautifully.  Also in the group were another singer, two shamisen players and the only male was the sensei, who played a Japanese flute.  They played a couple of songs just for myself and Yuki (the only guests), and, despite never playing it together before, had a go at 'Sakura Sakura' one of my most favourite songs of all time (Yep, it's right up there with 'Their Law' by The Prodigy!), after Yuki told them how much I loved it.  During a break I was allowed to try and play the shamisen, something I have wanted to learn to play for years.  I was hoping to have this incredible past life experience as soon as I touched it, and, even if I couldn't play it well, be able to make it sound somewhat beautiful.  I didn't.  It wasn't easy, there was no magical moment and my minimal guitar experience did not help!  Still, a stack of fun though!  Then I tried the flute, no, scratch that, I blew a raspberry into a wooden stick.  Though I do feel better for being told that it takes most people over a year to make any sound and 8 years to play well!  That made me respect the sensei even more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcHN2QJ7YI/AAAAAAAAACo/3eSQlgXc6bE/s1600-h/Music+%26+Onsen+%283%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcHN2QJ7YI/AAAAAAAAACo/3eSQlgXc6bE/s320/Music+%26+Onsen+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329736618499239298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Junko's friends playing shamisen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;After this we went on to the local onsen.  One of my most favourite things about Japan is the onsen.  A scary idea to most Westerners (basically getting naked in baths with strangers), but so much fun and so, So, SO relaxing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcKys3PHrI/AAAAAAAAADA/cbIVr5Fk29g/s1600-h/Music+%26+Onsen+%28134%29+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcKys3PHrI/AAAAAAAAADA/cbIVr5Fk29g/s320/Music+%26+Onsen+%28134%29+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329740550168846002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Myself and Yuki at the onsen, being nakey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back I saw the suicide pond.  I will be going again with my 'proper camera' to get some photos for the book I'm working on.  It is wonderfully creepy yet calm area, very old, very wise and spiritual.  Some parts are straight out of Mononoke Hime (Ghibli film -WATCH IT!), there are all these little hills dotted around, they are actually burial mounds, you almost expect to see little kodomo sitting on branches, silently watching.  I loved it there, I can't wait to go back and take some proper photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we are going back to Tokyo, I have to try very hard not to spend any money -boooo. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will blog again soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-7036705596936112350?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/7036705596936112350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/as-i-type-this-i-am-feeling.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/7036705596936112350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/7036705596936112350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/as-i-type-this-i-am-feeling.html' title='Nakey and stuff!'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcLIejExTI/AAAAAAAAADI/vbDgufoZjx4/s72-c/Folklore+Village_0084+-+Copy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-4040459097114937905</id><published>2009-04-25T13:49:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T14:27:41.669+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Day one &amp; Two</title><content type='html'>Eeeehhhhh, where to start?  What a mental day.  I was awake for 36 hours in total, with 4 hours sleep the night before I left.  I feel fine now, but by about 11:30 last night I was pretty bad, especially with how much walking (shopping) we did.  I kept having micro sleeps on the train, I NEVER sleep on public transport, it comes from being a Londoner, you don’t trust anyone, but my body/brain couldn’t help itself.  Crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, I had such a great time with Yuki and her friends; Rose, May and Izumi.  All wonderful girls, all new friends.  I bought some postcards today, so my nearest and dearest should be getting those.  Not as tacky as I would have liked, but very beautiful and VERY Japanese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuki’s mother is a diamond, such a lovely lady, and her house is fantastic.  I feel very comfortable and welcome, it is a light feeling, some places I have stayed it have felt very heavy and tinged with sadness or anger, but not this place.  Maybe it is because it was owned by a Tea Master until a few months ago when he passed away.  Tea Masters are very Zen, and at peace, the house reflects that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought tacky things today, Ego, you should expect a Kewpie (Baby Mayo) toy when I get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Japanese has improved vastly in just 24 hours, I knew it would, I just need to be around people who speak it all the time.  I have actually impressed myself with how much I knew and understand.  I have a couple of lazy days in Narita with Yuki and her Mother coming up; mostly walking (shopping) and enjoying the weather and surroundings.  Today it is raining like a bastard, proper Japanese rain, but tomorrow is broadcast as being sunny and how.  Yuki’s mother doesn’t speak any English –which is perfect for my Japanese.  Then we are hitting Tokyo and Harajuku again, I have to try not to buy too much, it is really very hard though, there are so many wonderful things.  Ego, I want to buy you so much, I am sorry I can’t.  You REALLY need to come here, I think you will be in heaven, Japanese clothes are designed for you, and SUCH good quality.  You will go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried momja last night.  It looks like vomit, but tastes delicious.  I also did some Puri Kura, and Rose dragged me to a solo Puri Kura booth, where I did anything but the beautiful model poses that the girls in the examples were doing!  I also had spinach cake yesterday, sooooo tasty!  I recommended it if you come to Tokyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcEEViUy3I/AAAAAAAAACI/mDR2L10og_g/s1600-h/Japan+%2709+1_0423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcEEViUy3I/AAAAAAAAACI/mDR2L10og_g/s320/Japan+%2709+1_0423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329733156563372914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Spinach cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfMIvA1r7dI/AAAAAAAAACA/CJdJUQK-ea4/s1600-h/24.04.09+1st+day_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfMIvA1r7dI/AAAAAAAAACA/CJdJUQK-ea4/s320/24.04.09+1st+day_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328612387881479634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Momja.  It really shouldn't look like this!  Rose &amp;amp; Izumi got a bit carried away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No jet-lag for me, but I have found my mind wandering a bit more than usual.  Probably because I have no worries here, so my mind is free to think the weird little thoughts that it wants to, like how come we so rarely say the lower case alphabet when we are adults.  You know the one; a,b,c,d...’ is like ‘ah, buh, cuh, duh...’  I guess it’s pretty superfluous when you think about it.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that’s it for today.  I guess I will be posting these blogs in batches, as and when I can get internet access, either way I will alert you when they are up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time!  Jaa ne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfMH7heh2sI/AAAAAAAAABo/ewai25yrEXQ/s1600-h/24.04.09+1st+day_0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfMH7heh2sI/AAAAAAAAABo/ewai25yrEXQ/s320/24.04.09+1st+day_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328611503289522882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me and Yuki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-4040459097114937905?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/4040459097114937905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/day-one-two.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/4040459097114937905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/4040459097114937905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/day-one-two.html' title='Day one &amp; Two'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SfcEEViUy3I/AAAAAAAAACI/mDR2L10og_g/s72-c/Japan+%2709+1_0423.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-7810006211594122852</id><published>2009-04-25T13:41:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T13:48:46.170+01:00</updated><title type='text'>In-flight blog.</title><content type='html'>Wherever I go, clumsy follows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s dark in here.  I just put my tray into the upright position.  I forgot my full glass of lemon cordial was resting on it.  I currently type with wet legs and a wetter bag.  Fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fail part 2.  Listening to a bit of drum n bass (as usual) while typing this.  Wondered why the sound changed.  I could still hear it, but it was much quieter and more ‘tinny’.  Realised I had been subjecting the people surrounding me with the possibly not so tantalising sounds of Gein –my favourite hardcore dark drum n bass act whose explicit lyrics are sampled from various horror movies.  Oh well, I do like to educate people... :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally saw Tropic Thunder, I really enjoyed it, apart from Tom Cruise’s performance, I don’t like him as a person, and I like him even less as an actor.   Other than that it was great.  I also made the huge mistake of watching Flight of the Concords it’s just impossible not to laugh at the show.  Why did I do it?!   I snorted at one point, I guess that is Fail part 3, or maybe that should have been number one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perk of the flight is that I have one of the best seats on the plane.  Window seat, no one sitting next to me, end of the section and the toilet right behind me –BONUS!  I can’t think of a better seat on flight, excluding Zachary Quinto’s lap, M’raow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just over 8 hours of flying left, but when I post this I will have landed shopped and hopefully had a visit to an onsen.  Really not too sure what to do next...  I’m due for a 2 hour snooze in about 4 hours, my fail-safe way of combating jet-lag.  Highly recommended.  I have my DS and a load of books, so I suppose I should save my laptop battery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signing off for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Post typing*  I didn't sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-7810006211594122852?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/7810006211594122852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-flight-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/7810006211594122852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/7810006211594122852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-flight-blog.html' title='In-flight blog.'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1492638157259489212.post-351411378302357264</id><published>2009-04-18T01:16:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T01:01:23.043+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Japan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood memories'/><title type='text'>1st Ever Blog - The answer to "Why Japan?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SekqUy4qavI/AAAAAAAAABY/AHxswDnfmBo/s1600-h/me+age+9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325834571087506162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SekqUy4qavI/AAAAAAAAABY/AHxswDnfmBo/s320/me+age+9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The majority of this whole blogworld thing I am getting myself into will most likely be related to Japan in one way or another. Specifically the blogs that will be appearing over the next few weeks as I will be in Japan at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who knows me knows of my affinity with Japan and it's culture. I'm a white, middle-class Londoner born and bred, yet to an extent I live my life as a Japanese. I am considered more Japanese than many Japanese by my Japanese friends. I am &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; Japanese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One question I am asked more than any other (apart from, "Do you wear contacts?") is, "Why Japan?" Here I am to answer this question in the most complete way I can.&lt;br /&gt;I think I need to start this whole thing off with a little background information...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 1989, I'm 9 years old. A new girl joins my class at school, her name is Marie she is super-bright and a year younger than everyone else (a big deal at this age), because she is new, young and from a distant country I decide to look after her. I am the oldest and the tallest so it seems only right. Marie is Japanese, she has just moved here from her home in Japan. Before long we become firm friends, we both love art and think the same way ...except when it comes to maths, which I am chronically bad at!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never really pay much attention to Marie's race, our school is so wonderfully multicultural that we are all blind to such things. I didn't pay attention to it until she went on holiday to visit her family in Japan and came back with lots of gifts for me. Amongst my goodies are two items in particular which capture my imagination. One is a little book of Hello Kitty stickers, the other is a miniature card with a beautiful painting of a crane by a small pond surrounded with water reeds (I have always kept this). Apart from being totally bowled over by Kitty-chan (remember, it's 1989, Sanrio is very new for the UK) I am even more bowled over by the writing that is all over the book and my lovely card. It is incredible, so fluid and far more interesting that our boring alphabet. I have an instant desire to find out more. These aren't words or letters, these are beautifully constructed tiny pictures, each one individual in it's wonder.&lt;br /&gt;Something clicks in my brain, a switch that can never be turned off, I am aware of the beauty of Japan and that I feel a deep connection to it's culture via just a few words that I can't even read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I doubt Marie truly realised the massive impact those gifts made on me, they were just souveniers after all. However, these items opened up a world and a way of thinking that I could identify with more than any other. A world that understands the way my brain works, like the fact that I can notice and find incredible beauty in 'mundane' things like peeling paint. A world that for all its renowned cliquishness, has accepted me as one of its own and embraced me for my love of it's fine nation. To Marie, I am forever grateful for showing me the door. Domo arigato gozaimasu Marie-chan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Note***&lt;br /&gt;I haven't got any scanned pictures of myself and Marie, I think all the photos are in a box in the attic. If they were accessible I would have loved to have posted one here. As I don't, I've added a picture of me age 9, shortly after I 'discovered Japan'. It is the face of a child who knows there is another country out there that could may well be her future. Of course, this is a picture of me, but I see so much of the person I am now in this photo. The excitement, the thirst for more knowledge, it's all there. I can identify with the me in this photo even more than I can with pictures that were taken just one year earlier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1492638157259489212-351411378302357264?l=blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/feeds/351411378302357264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/1st-ever-blog.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/351411378302357264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1492638157259489212/posts/default/351411378302357264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blackblossomfalls.blogspot.com/2009/04/1st-ever-blog.html' title='1st Ever Blog - The answer to &quot;Why Japan?&quot;'/><author><name>Natalie Wells</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14816602766455830490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SwLMJUlPrTI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ne-Tc0QFepY/S220/SPOOK.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jA0BkBSYbMA/SekqUy4qavI/AAAAAAAAABY/AHxswDnfmBo/s72-c/me+age+9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
