October 23, 2008
I feel like an epic slacker. I haven’t posted for days, and I have achieved little worth reporting. It is freezing-ass cold. Partner’s sister is booked in for foetus extraction on monday so he’ll probably go away soon to establish his unclehood. I’m trying not to think about NaNo, willfully neglecting sewing mum’s xmas present, clinging desperately to my sanity as I proofread comma-laden gumph. In my rush this morning I only cut the nails on one hand so I’m typing lopsidedly.
I have included a cool link for you to enjoy. There is only 1 country in the world that wants McCain in power and I’ll give you my earmuffs if you can guess which one:
October 9, 2008
So I was bored, slacking off as usual (jokes – there is no work :s) when I found all the old archives of people doing 101 things in a 1001 days. I think it’s quite a cool idea, it gives you plenty of variety of things to focus on while giving you the gentle push of a distant deadline to make you do the things you’ve supposedly always want to but never actually got around to.
It’s kind of like the CD paradox. I would see a CD I really wanted, several times. I would pine for the CD, go into the shop and stroke the little picture of the musician I so admired, the trundle off to pine some more. Then, completely unexpectedly I would find myself out with friends and we’d go into HMV. 3 CDs for £20 you say? Gosh what a bargain. I’d leave the shop and think “but these aren’t what I’ve been pining for?” and remember that my true love was still on the shelf and in my bag was dross. This happened several times. I think they release some kind of hypnotic gas in that place…
But it’s the same for general life. I think “oh wouldn’t it be nice to go to Stratford?” but then I watch TV or doss about town or see a really incredibly poor film at the cinema. So I thought I’d jump on the bandwagon and hitch a lift to happytown. I haven’t quite finished my list yet but I’ve only be doing it today. It’s probably good to have a bit of reflection time. It’s good to know that there I things I want to do. And I had a good idea for gifts I can make.
September 29, 2008
*WO-OOP WO-OOP WO-OOP* the povvo alarm is wooping loud and clear at the moment, and I doubt I’m the only one who can hear it. After a year of extravagent indulgance I find that despite being salaried I am not actually rich. It’s a shock that comes to many in their first real grown-up jobs when the lustre of regular payment wears off to reveal the truth of the matter.
This month I’ve given up my personal luxuries. Recently I’ve been a bit lazy/naughty/indulgent and bought a few lunches – that’s definitely off the menu. I’ve switched from sexy muesli to bran flakes. Co-op has again earned my love for creating their own smoothies which are not only almost half the price of Innocent but also fair trade. I’ve decided to forgo buying new trousers to replace the ones that aggravate my eczema.
Partner and I have also reached a “it’s time to regain control over our eating habits and cook properly” stage again. It happens about once every three months. He made the most beautiful cottage pie. Tonight I’m going to try to recreate it.
Other poverty prevension ideas I’ve had include: hand-making a christmas present for my mum, never leaving my house ever again, writing stories for magazines. Finding it difficult to do the writing part but I think something is forming in my mind.
August 26, 2008
Bolognese, my latest story, first draft, which I am aiming to polish and submit to a competition by the deadline 6 days from now. It should be ok. I will leave it a day or so and come back to it. I kinda feel bad; my last story was about an awful dumping and this is about remembering an abusive ex. Not all the men in my stories are bad. Tony is an ok guy. And the first story of my recent revival, the Electric Dude Interlude, is about a nice guy. I really like him. It’s a shame his story was so short. Maybe I’ll bring him back if I need him later.
“He’d left pans and knives out where I could find them but I had to root around for a strainer. Flipping open the cupboards I found a quarter bottle of whiskey – Bell’s – the same kind Eddie used to have. It’d been two years but I’d always remember. Number of times he threw those bottles at me I’m surprised I’m not still ringing. But Tony…”
August 15, 2008
I got a pingback from what I presume is a spamblog gathering posts about the State of Virginia. As well as a direct quote it had created this beautiful remix of my brainfail post that makes me sounds like a malfunstioning android:
“When because the bits that aren’t registering on internal scans. I am experiencing Brainfail. I leave work; having gaps in my head seems to help with this. I am still articulate but there are parts that hold me … work; having gaps in my head seems to help with this. I am still articulate but there are parts that hold me … the bits that aren’t registering on internal scans. I leave work; having gaps in my head seems to help with this. I think because the bits that hold me … this. I am still articulate but there are.”
August 11, 2008
Something awful happened yesterday. I was meeting one of my significants in town he called to ask where he could find me – on the spot I answered Borders. He arrived just ten minutes later but it was already too late and I had picked up a massive stack of books. It is the first time I have used a basket in a bookshop it was that bad. I purchased:
- The Watchmen graphic novel (that I tried to get last year but is now suddenly available since the movie trailers started showing)
- The Gothic and Lolita Bible (I had no idea that non-goth lolita was so popular. Also included bonus sewing patterns)
- Red Seas under Red Skies (the sequel to the Lies of Locke Lamora)
- An economics book (for the education of my brain)
- That GMTV Penny Smith book for my mum
- A gift for my partner to calm him down before his job interview
This is what happens when I decide to not spend money for a bit. And now my book pile is mountainous and will probably fall on me causing me to die horribly of crushing injuries and papercuts. If I should die with books unread I will ensure a clause in my will forces someone to read them all.
July 31, 2008
To get back to the positive and the personal, a short interlude about things that I love this week.
I love… the latest book I picked up: The Garden Party and Other Stories by Katherine Mansfield. After my Phantom book fail this is going very well. I love the way she captures the inner workings of people’s minds and how mood and opinion flickers with every little event. I forget that her stories are almost a hundred years old – I suppose the way people feel doesn’t change nearly as much as the way people write about their feelings.
I love… the toner I got from Lush. I can’t remember what it’s called, something Roma, and it’s based on rosewater with a little tea tree oil. Frankly I love most things from Lush, and I am amazed that my hair stays clean for two days with the Karma bar (oh the shameless plugs, these people should pay me). I am now free of the once ever-present threat of grease.
I love… making things. Sewing is going well and the addition of a box to tidy all my crap into has brought favour from the House Folks. I’ve also been working on a story under the place holder title: Electric Dude Interlude. So far I’m pleased with the fragments I’ve produced.
I love… coffee, though no matter how hard I believe it doesn’t cancel out a bad night’s sleep.
July 25, 2008
I don’t know if I was tired or if I genuinely am that excited by sewing but the other night was a revelation to me. I was squeeing out with my chibi face flicking through my new bumper book of embroidery techniques while my partner gazed lovingly on. Thinking I might be keeping him up I put down the book, switched off the light and snuggled up to him, telling him my project plans and my internal debate of chain versus blanket stitch.
I then remembered that I wasn’t 80 years old or living in a log cabin, and that I enjoy sex and should not get distracted from having sex by handycrafts.
I still love handycrafts.
July 21, 2008
but not much walking, so physical health levels down while mental health levels raised by not having to do anything strenuous. I think we covered all the holiday staples: we visited a seaside town, a local attraction, a wildlife, and a historical building. We also had many kinds of cakes to the point where my partner got sick of them and started refusing dessert. He and I also came across a slight problem with second-hand bookshops and I have now shored up my to-be-read avalanche-waiting-to-happen with even more fine quality reading materials. The best part was seeing the joy in the old shop-owner’s face when we made our purchases and feeling like we’d bought his lunch that day. The worst part was when I decided I was eighty but conveniently without arthritis and should take up quilting. Soon I shall be queen of all that is twee. We narrowly avoided going to the cat pottery as that may have tipped me over the edge.
Does anyone know the link between Hornby/Steam trains and gollywogs? No this isn’t an off-colour joke and I don’t actually know the answer. All I can say is that when we went for a ride on the tiny steam train all the stations stocked many sizes and styles of gollies. No one seemed bothered either. My mum even suggested I get a little one to clip on my handbag. It was at this point I realised that there are no black or ethnic minority people in the British countryside. That’s a lie, I saw a black man in a UV jacket the day after the steam train incident, but noticing these things made me feel weird and out of place and I’m white and British. I feel uncomfortable in areas where there are only white people because it feels like there is some kind of unspoken exclusion being practiced and it makes me suspicious of the local population. Perhaps it’s because I’ve always lived in cities that it feels a lot more normal to me to have a mix of people around.
I think if I voiced that opinion to the Daily Fail (or half the papers around) I would be labelled the hapless victim of the evils of multiculturalism. But that can’t be right because most non-white people I see day to day are British, just as British as I am and part of the same culture as me. I saw a news report yesterday that there is a possibilty of creating a regulation that would prevent potential parents adopting children of a different race to themselves because the child might lose their culture, but if the child was born here chances are it would have been raised in British culture anyway. They will have plenty of time to research their biological heritage when they are older, besides which they are hardly likely to get any better cultural impressions from being stuck in a care home. This double standard is simply a way of ensuring that white children get a better chance of being adopted while leaving ethnic minority children without family support that could help them get a better education or ease the transition to adulthood.