it's in the way that she walks.

I dreamt about Interpol last night.

This is not a once-off occurence, mind you. I've dreamt before that they were playing on the lawns at Uni and I was the only person who realised quite what was going on.

But last night somehow I found myself backstage, and there were three doors in a corridor - the first was Paul's, the second Carlos' and the third Sam's (don't ask where Daniel was). I knew I would be kicked out of there any minute, so I decided to go into journalist mode - it was now or never, right?

So I knocked on Sam's door - I think he would be least intimidating of the three - and asked for an interview. He didn't open the door, and politely told me he wasn't interested. No, really, there were no expletivesor anything involved, he was quite nice about it.

Paul was next, and he opened the door to me but also said that it wasn't a good time. Not nastily, just politely but firmly.

My attempt on Carlos was the last, and I was so scared. He opened the door and I said 'hey, I'm Steph, I was just wondering if I couldn do an interview with you?'. He considered it for a moment and was about to say yes, but then like the other two, politely turned me down. The one thing I noticed about his room was that all of his clothes - and there was a lot of them - were folded and arranged immaculately on his shelves. It was really weird, the room was perfectly in order. Much like his persona I guess.

So somewhat dejected (but really, what did I expect) I made my way to the end of the corridor and pressed the button for the lift. As I was waiting, Paul came out of his room and joined the wait. I can't remember much about what he was wearing, but he was sharply dressed as usual, and wearing a scarf.

Paul and I got into the lift and I literally shook the whole way down to the ground, I was so nervous and was having trouble breathing properly (drama queen or what?!). But honestly, what would you do if you found yourself in a lift, in a small confined space, with none other than Paul Banks? We didn't say a word to each other, and I think he was quietly trying to pretend that I wasn't so visibly uncomfortable.

Safe to say I practically ran out of the lift, but coincidentally Paul was going to the same bookstore that I was headed to and followed me the whole way there. I nervously flitted around the store trying to avoid him, although I actually went there to go to the art section where he was. So I built up the courage to go and look at the art books, and I'm a little vague about what happened next, but it involved the lyrics to Stella Was A Diver And She Was Always Down and him agreeing to hang out with me for the afternoon. So it looks like I ended up getting my interview then, hey?

Aside from this farfetched dream, I have discovered that one of the simple pleasures in life is having Obstacle 1 surprise you in a playlist.

And speaking of pleasures, simple or perhaps, 'unknown', I went to see a Joy Division doco last Friday. It was good, the interviews were definitely insightful. They talked a lot about the band's album artwork, including the amazing 'Unknown Pleasures'.

The band members said that looking back, they can see in Ian Curtis' lyrics that things weren't right, but still they had no idea about what was going to happen. Like with Control, I walked out of the film feeling awkward, empty and drained.

It's weird. I know exactly what is going to happen, I know what to expect. But I still feel the same way every time I see/hear/read the story told in such an intimate and detailed way.

I wonder what his daughter, Natalie, is doing?

she broke away, broke away.

How fitting.

Interpol tightened their grip on me even more this week, to the point where even when I tried to get away and put my iPod on shuffle, it played 3 Interpol songs in a row. And not just average Interpol songs (is that an oxymoron?). Amazing Interpol songs. PDA, Heinrich Maneuver and Stella.

This Monday night ABC2 is airing Interpol in Sydney. 10pm.

I have been waiting for this night for months.

If you only watch half an hour of TV all year, make it this one.

I'm so excited, amazed and overwhelmed I'm past the point of exclamation marks.

I don't know if this feeling is ever going to pass.

i heart.

...a friend's project.

The concept: each 'issue' (every Monday) four rad kids are interviewed in relation to a particular topic. I am insanely jealous of We Heart Four Things and I can't wait for upcoming issues.

Sure, the first one includes a bit of blatant self promotion (Dave, we already know you're cool, we don't need a website to tell us) but it's such a great concept and I know that the future is very bright for these kids.

I definitely heart.

Four things I can't get enough of at the moment:

• Interpol (surprise surprise)
• the endless re-shaping possibilities for my op-shop clothes
• the most amazing vanilla and strawberry cocktail that I had the other day... I'm craving it!
• snuggling and being cosy in the cold

sharing the interpol love.

A couple of weeks ago I was contacted through flickr by a girl who runs Interpol Online. She said she liked my pictures and wanted to feature them on the site. They got put up today.

They are possibly the worst pictures I have taken at a concert so far, really blurry and of a pretty bad quality, but hey. It's Interpol. And I'm more than happy to share the Interpol love.

underground.

I've always loved the iconic London Underground Map, and all its variations including the musically linked one. I've seen these before but they've surfaced on it's nice that so I thought I'd share as well. They're too cute to pass up a second time.

right on.

It seems to me that everyone stylish comes from Scandinavia. Or perhaps everyone in Scandinavia is stylish. I've already mentioned Piksi and Agthe, but there is also Ranna who I found via Flickr. Not to mention the fact that these girls seem to find the most amazing op-shop items... if this is what I get to look forward to, I can't wait for Denmark.

Some old, some new, some somewhere in between - this is what I'm listening to. I go through phases with Crystal in particular.

crystal - new order
musicamor - daphne
les artistes - santogold
time to pretend - mgmt
stella was a diver and she was always down - interpol
strange times - black keys
let's make love and listen to death from above - css

postsecret.

There are some rad secrets over at PostSecret this week. Of course all of the sad and/or disturbing ones as well, but these caught my eye.

dreams.

Two nights ago I dreamt that I was in Arcade Fire. I always find that other people's dreams are really hard to follow, even though it makes sense in their head. But basically in my dream we were playing a concert, and the red-head, Richard, and I didn't have specific instruments to play during most of the songs, so we would just muck around together on the stage, jumping around, clapping random beats at inappropriate times, etc.

Anyway, Win (in the black shirt) was getting really annoyed with us because we just being generally interruptive and we bumped him a couple of times in the middle of a song. So he stopped playing and started yelling at us that we were ruining 'his song' and that he never gets his chance in the spotlight and we were ruining it (or something).

Meanwhile, Richard and I were just rolling our eyes at each other. I mean, come on. Arcade Fire basically IS Win. And perhaps Regine (orange dress). So the moral of the story was that being in such a huge band wouldn't really be all that fun because unless you were 'the face' or whatever you wouldn't really be appreciated and would get walked all over by the big boss. Although I do remember pondering a few months ago the dynamics of such a huge band. What would go on before a gig? Do the girls work out what each other is wearing so they can somewhat coordinate? Do they share rooms? Or is it more that they vaguely travel together but completely do their own thing - just make sure they all rock up at the right place at the right time to play? I would also imagine a 10+ person band would get a bit cliquey as well. Not to mention personality clashes. They make amazing music, but it can't all be sunshine and rainbows can it?

The last thing I can remember about my dream is that Richard and I were just like 'hmph. Fine then' and sat on the edge of the stage swinging our legs to the beat. I wonder what it all means...?