Future Queen and her crafty ways

Year of Craft - the return...

2012-01-06T20:17:00.003Z

No, dear reader, your eyes do not deceive you. It is I, Kats. And surprisingly, I am not doing this for a bet either. No, I am back to blog about ... stuff. In this case, crafty stuff.

I'm having another year of craft. I've got a few things that I want to try and some others that I want to revisit. I also want to get more jewellery made and sold, which means sorting out shops and websites and other various things.

But for now, I'm keeping this short and sweet and giving advance warning of more regular posting. Hopefully.

There's a new crafting magazine in town...

2011-10-01T12:47:00.002+01:00

And it's really rather good.

From the lovely folks at the Crafter..oo forum, the new magazine contains a whole host of crafty goodness. Loads of projects - paper roses, wrapped bangles, felt fortune cookies, dorset buttons, and a huge amount of other interesting features.

I have even written a little something for it too.

So, go on, give it a go. Click on the button below to go straight there!

Button Swap - part the first

2011-07-04T11:41:00.005+01:00

As mentioned in my previous post, I have been taking part in a craft swap, the theme of which is buttons. All organised by the lovely and fragrant Kitty Ballistic.

Where craft swaps are concerned, I normally get all fired up, then forget about it and then spend the last few days before deadline fleeing about like a headless chicken. Fortunately, this one was different. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and gave myself a bit of a challenge in adapting a chainmaille weave.

My partner was Vonnie of BlottedCopybook fame, who you may remember organised the first swap I ever took part in, the tea swap. She's received her goodies, so I won't be spoiling the surprise by showing you what I sent.

Firstly, the bits I made - a chainmaille bracelet and necklace.

From ButtonSwapJune11

I've had those 'pin-up' buttons for ages and hadn't the first idea what to do with them. I thought they'd be perfect candidates for incorporating into chainmaille, and, though it took a bit of doing (and about a month's supply of swears), I think they turned out pretty well. The bracelet is a slight variant of Helm Chain and the necklace is a Japanese hexagonal weave, all in anodized aluminium.

And now for the goodies and craft supplies.

Buttons!

From ButtonSwapJune11

Many, many buttons, with a bead or three thrown in for good measure, not to mention featuring the cutest buttons in the world. *squeal*

From ButtonSwapJune11

Ahem, yes. Back to matters in hand. I also included some sugar shapes (which did include buttons) a box of Chocolate Buttons from Hotel Chocolat.

From ButtonSwapJune11

The only thing I couldn't manage to fashion from buttons was the card, but it was near enough, featuring as it did some 'button'flies. *waits for groans from the audience*

From ButtonSwapJune11

So, there you have it, one craft swap successfully completed. Bring on the next one!

From ButtonSwapJune11

I have heard from Vonnie that my parcel has been delayed unavoidably, but I am being very patient, as I know it'll definitely be worth waiting for.

A big thanks to all the crafter..ooers involved and to Kitty for being such a fab organiser. It's been a blast!

Yes, yes, I know...

2011-05-28T13:44:00.002+01:00

I've been very very very lax with my blog-updating. Incredibly so, in fact.

But, I am back (though this is just a teeny-tiny post) and will be trying to update things more regularly.

So, what have I been doing? Well, the chainmaille is still going great guns and it's still an absolute obsession. I recently had a problem with my hand and my first thought was not 'Oh no, how will I manage at work?' but a complete panic about not being able to do more chainmaille. I think my priorities are probably about right there!

I've been learning some more weaves, so I've got quite a few under my belt now. I've also signed up to do a craft swap, a button one, organised by the fab Kitty Ballistic. I am really looking forward to cracking on with that, and of course, it does mean a trip to a haberdashery department at some point. *tiny dance of joy*

Anyway, I will stop wittering for the time being and get on and do some creating. And taking some pictures, as they always help!

How did it get to be April already?

2010-04-12T15:07:00.005+01:00

I know. I am a rubbish blogger. Here we are, a third of the way through 2010 and not a word. Useless.

So what have I been doing with myself for the past few months? Well, a bit of this, a bit of that and a lot of the other. I have watched some incredibly bad films (as is my wont), made a load of stuff (pictures in a bit) and generally bimbled and bumbled (as is also my wont).

I've also been remortgaging my house, which is not something I would recommend to anyone. It is taking forever and has me often unable to sleep, as I'm really terrified that it's all going to go horribly wrong. But there you go, this is what happens when you have to deal with managing agents (never buy leasehold, kids) who are incompetent and greedy at the same time. Still, as my mother says, this is all character building. Which is good to know, I'm sure you'll agree.

So, pictures. Well, here goes.

Firstly, a couple of felty items. Created for a swap that went slightly awry (they were missing in action for some time, but arrived safe and sound in the end), meet Princess Buttercup and the Dread Pirate Roberts from The Princess Bride.

And now for some sparkly things and chainmaille goodness. I am still obsessed with the chainmaille and I don't think that's ever going to stop now.

That's the Full Persian weave there. Yes, I know it sounds like a style of intimate waxing and it makes me laugh now every time I say it, but it is a thing of beauty, if I do say so myself.

Two sets of mobius knot earrings - the hot pink ones are enamelled copper and the purple ones are aluminium.

Banded agate earrings, showing my woeful wire wrapping skills. Admittedly this was a first attempt, but I'd managed to use up around 10 headpins and a month's supply of swears. I suspect it's something I'm going to really have to practise.

Ahh, byzantine weave, how I love thee. This was made with teenytiny enamelled copper rings and I adored making it. I ended up having to make another straight away, as I showed it off to my mother and her first words were 'Where's mine, then?'

Saving my favourite till last here. I decided, on a whim, to buy a Swarovski Cosmic Ring, because, well, a) it is very sparkly, b) I love the name and c) it was there, calling to me. So, once I had it in my hot little hand, what to do with it? Aha, I thought, I'll make a chain. How difficult can it be? Given that this is a fairly simple 2 in 2 weave, I thought it would be a doddle. It kind of was, but I'd forgotten that tiny tiny rings mean tiny tiny links and that then means it takes ages to get a decent length of chain (especially seeing as this is for me, and I like long-ish chains). I love the finished result though, which is handy really. I am considering making some other chains, but I might wait a while first.

So there you are, some of what I've been up to for the past few months. There are more pictures to come, once I get myself even slightly organised, so hopefully I'll be bothering you with more stuff soon.

I won!

2009-10-25T14:42:00.003Z

Yes, that's right. Your eyes do not deceive you. I have won something. Not the Euromillions, but something JUST as good. I'll get to just what it is in a moment, but first, here's how.

I became The Crafty Ninja's 100th fan on facebook and was awarded a free commission as a result. As I had my mama's birthday coming up, I asked if she could make me a card featuring painting-y type stuff, as mam does watercolour painting and is currently doing a course at the local college. Note the vagueness of my request. And now marvel at the result, which is brilliant. (Any deficiencies on the quality of the pictures are down to me and my rubbish cameraphone, as I was trying to get the card into the post quickly!)

And a close up of the easel...

Fantastic, isn't it?! Just the job.

I'd just like to say a great big thank you to the Crafty Ninja (and what a great name, by the way!) for a really wonderful card.

Craft swaps ahoy!

2009-08-24T13:28:00.002+01:00

Yes, I've been doing the craft swap thing again. This time on a subject close to my heart - B-movies. This was organised by the lovely Apryl of Meridian Ariel fame, who also has great love for these often overlooked bits of celluloid joy.

I was partnered with Lindsey from ethel and edna and thinking that I had plenty of time to sort things out, I left it for a couple of days, whilst I planned what to make. Of course, you know what's coming next... emergency jewellery making for my mum's wedding (which was announced, organised and then took place within the space of around two months), commissions for other stuff (another blog post there) and all kinds of nonsense at work.

I found myself completely swamped, but fortunately, fate was smiling on me in her own bizarre and quirky way, as Lindsey was also having similar problems.

Anyway, I eventually got everything done and sent out. In addition to the photos I'm going to share in a second, I also included some utterly gorgeous fabric, ribbons, buttons and lace, all of which I found on Dawanda. And then there were lollipops and Revels for the munchables part.
So here's what I made.

A witch themed bookmark and phone charm and a bangle with a bat charm. The bookmark and phone charm are both done with chainmaille.

And so, what did I get... well, I do feel incredibly spoiled in return, I got SO much. I apologise in advance for the quality of the photos, as I took them on my phone. Anyway, here goes:

Fantastic handmade doll

Amazing crochet amigurumi Godzilla head

Beautiful crochet flower brooch

A fantastic tea bag holder, which also contained a handmade felty tea bag!

What you can't see there, is the little packet of buttons, in all shades of green.

I also got some craft supplies, sparkly wool, a crochet hook and some lovely rainbowy felt.

As you can see from that last picture, there was also chocolate and gummy dinosaurs. And a box of tea as well. Lawks!

We may have been the last to get our parcels sent off, but in my case at least (and I hope Lindsey feels similarly!), it was definitely worth the wait. Thank you Lindsey for all my fantastic goodies, and thank you to Apryl for organising this one. And the next one I've signed up for (which I promise to send on time!

I like bad films and I cannot lie...

2009-06-17T22:19:00.002+01:00

And this one is a corker. Komodo vs Cobra.

From the very start, it was clear how it was going to go, given the look of the really dreadful CGI. I mean, it's on a par with Shark In Venice, so I think you get the picture. Oh, and there goes another hapless victim, eaten whole by a gigantic Komodo Dragon. (I'm not entirely sure of the need for capitalisation there, but what the hell, it's the size of a house!)

Oh, it's already eaten one scientist and a platoon of the most shoddy special forces soldiers I've ever seen.

And the giant cobra has been snacking on another scientist and a camera man.

I would explain the plot, but I don't think there's that much of one. It started off, as these things often do, with scientists on a deserted island trying to develop genetically engineered plants to cure world hunger. A laudable aim, as I'm sure you'll agree. And after their initial success, in stroll the military and order them to use their research for more 'lethal' purposes. I'm not entirely sure about why the military is involved, but there you go. I would suggest that thinking too hard about the plot is probably not the best course of action.

I don't think I'll manage to last until the end of this one. Perhaps I'll come back to it another day. Or in another life.

Candle-tastic

2009-06-07T18:17:00.003+01:00

I have to confess, I meant to blog this some time ago, but I got sidetracked with ... stuff. As one does. So, anyway...yes...candles.

I decided that, as this year is the year of trying all kinds of crafts (and revisiting some that have fallen by the wayside), that I'd try my hand at candle making. And with the tea swap to inspire me, off I went.

I tried out a couple of kits from House of Crafts, which included all the relevant materials and fairly comprehensive instructions.

And yes, I was sad enough to take photographs of wax melting. Action shots, I'll have you know.

Extreme close up there, with fantastic melty action. Ahem, yes, I'll calm down now.

So, once it had all melted, it was time to get pouring. Please note that I had learned from my previous experience with the lipbalms and had used my pyrex jug as the double boiler (well, it turned out as more of a bain marie, but we'll gloss over that for the time being) which made it so much easier to fill the moulds.

I wanted to put some coffee beans into a couple of the candles, so first tried just putting them in the bottom of one of the moulds and filling it up. Not the best idea in the world, as they all floated straight to the top.

Very arty, I'm sure, but I didn't want them to end up on the bottom of the candle. Oh well.

So, I decided that for the second attempt, I'd do things slightly differently and layer the coffee beans with the wax, so at least some of them would be suspended in the middle of the candle. And through the gift of time lapse photography (or just hanging around for a bit), this is how it worked out.

The last bit looks a bit messy, I know, but fortunately, it's on the bottom of the candle, so not visible unless you really want to look.

In addition to the special coffee candles, I made a few other 'normal' candles and this is how they all turned out.

Close up of the two coffee candles.

So there you have it. Candles, in one afternoon. Not bad for a first attempt, really. The only thing I would say is, keep a spare pan just for wax melting/double boiling. It's worth it, if only to stop you ruining all your decent pans.

What was that I was saying about mojo?

2009-05-26T11:13:00.002+01:00

Hmm, famous last words.

Mind you, it's been quite busy recently, but in a good way. One weekend entirely spent out having fun (which is really the best way to spend a weekend) and lots of stuff going on at work.

I did spend this last weekend (including the bank holiday) making things, but due to annoying computer troubles at home, it was impossible to get any pictures uploaded. Still, never mind. I'll blog instead about my other current obsession: tea.

Yes, that's right, tea. Tea of all nations, in fact. I'll pretty much give anything a go (with the exception of Lapsang Souchong, which I tried once and instantly disliked).

This is the current collection of tea:

The second lot was purchased during a five day trip to Holland and Belgium. From that little lot, I've only tried the Maple Honeybush (brown box, middle front) and the Rooibos Orange Lemon Lime. Both of which are lovely.

Going back to the first group, the tiny tins at the front are part of a taster set from Leaf. It's a great way to try what they have on offer. And included in there was the best camomile infusion I've ever had. Camomile's a bit of an acquired taste and can be extremely hit and miss, but I'd recommend it to anyone to at least give it a go.

Same with Rooibos really. I will admit that the first time I tried Rooibos, I really didn't like it. In fact, I described it as the foul strainings from the devil's jockstrap. I can now admit that I was wrong. I may well have brewed it for too long, or it may just have been a bad batch. Now, however, I really do enjoy it. It's light and refreshing, with a slight woody tang (I know that sounds a bit odd - and possibly quite pretentious - but it's the only way I can describe it!) Anyway, it's well worth a go.

Finally, I'll just mention another fantastic tea webshop: Teapigs. They've got some cracking blends there (Summer Flowers is a particular favourite) as well as selling Popcorn Tea (which has toasted rice added to the leaves, to give it a very distinctive taste!) I can't recommend them enough, their service is spectacular. And they do 'taster packs' of most of their teas, in the most dinky little tins, which I'm probably going to use to store beads in, once they're finished.

Right, that's enough wittering from me for the time being, but I shall be updating you on my journey of tea discovery as I work my way through the huge stash I've got. Chin chin!

My mojo is back!

2009-05-08T20:32:00.002+01:00

I've been a bit lax on the old craft front (and on the blogging front) of late, mainly because my get up and go got up and went. The year of craft came to a bit of a standstill, I think because I couldn't decide on exactly what I wanted to do. If that makes any sense. Plus being busier than a busy thing at work meant I was fit for nothing of an evening.

But, after a couple of well deserved holidays, I think it's safe to say that I'm back in the swing of things. And my latest creation is something I've been wanting to do for ages. A chainmaille ring. And one of my favourite weaves, Byzantine. Given that the rings (sterling silver) were so small, it was a wee bit fiddly, but thankfully it didn't have me throwing a tantrum (for a change!)

Without further ado, pictures!

Not too shabby, really. I'm keeping this one for myself, but I might well make some more to sell. Soon.

Overhaul!

2009-05-05T14:42:00.002+01:00

I've decided that I've just got too many blogs on the go. And none of them are being updated as regularly as they should be, so my wittering blog (full of inanities) and my crafting blog (this one, slightly less full of crafty inanities) are going to be merged. God, I think I'm drunk with power. And on a Tuesday afternoon too.

Shocking.

Tea swap goodness!

2009-04-18T11:43:00.000+01:00

Tea swap? I hear you cry. What is this madness?

Well, it's a craft swap for members of Crafteroo organised by Yvonne of blottedcopybook. All themed around time for tea.

My swap partner was Apryl (Meridian Ariel). And this being my first ever craft swap, I was a little at a loss to think of what to do. Apryl's not really a tea fan, so I decided to do some coffee-related crafting. Firstly, a candle with coffee beans embedded. It was also my first time (since I was tiny and wee - and that's been some time) for candle making, so I put on the mad scientist hat and got melting! And here's how it turned out.

Not too shabby for a first attempt. And with a tiny bit of polishing before I sent it, it came up quite nicely (if I do say so myself!)

I also decided to make a coffee bean phone charm and a coffee pot bookmark. Both using chainmaille and the most gorgeous silver charms.

I added some craft items (cardstock and stickers), a giant cup and saucer (which I filled with chocolate covered coffee beans) and some lovely caramel wafers. And then packaged it all up to send.

So there you have it. And just what did I receive? Well, I'll tell you! Loads of lovely things - a handmade wheat-pack (just the thing for when my back decides to play up), a painting, a gorgeous hand made tag and card, some of the most lovely wool and a box of Lady Grey tea. All absolutely brilliant and very gratefully received! Just have a look at the loveliness...

Close up of the wheat pack

Tea time tag!

Gorgeous colours - just need to find a place to hang it.

Gloriously coloured wool. Just the thing to help me learn to crochet!

Hand made card

Even the envelope was decorated with a little teacup!

All in all, quite a haul! I do feel very spoiled. Thanks so much for all my lovely goodies Apryl! And thanks to Yvone for organising it all.

P.S. I've been trying to get this post written for weeks. That's what happens when life gets in the way!

It's a bad bad bad bad film

2009-03-21T16:58:00.000Z

Shark in Venice that is. It is shocking. Best viewed on a very small screen, mainly so no-one can see what it is you're watching.

If I say the name Stephen Baldwin, then I think that gives you a clue as to what you're in for. Apparently he's a lecturer at an oceanographic institute (it's not named, probably for the best) and his fiancee is also on the staff (she's very smart we're told later). His father is a deep sea diver, working in Venice on an unnamed project and goes missing after an 'accident'.

One quick flight to Venice later, we discover that Stephen is unconvinced with the official explanation of a boat propellor v diver incident. I suspect that the teethmarks were probably a bit of a giveaway, but there you go.

It's at this point that the plot takes a turn for the slightly less believable, cramming in a bizarre subplot about the Medici Treasure (complete with remarkable 'historical' sequence) and the least convincing Mafia don I've ever seen.

And don't get me started on the sharks. Stock footage, cut with bizarre CGI - though they really should have checked for bystander reaction (or lack of it) in one particularly outstanding moment.

As for the script, well, if I say it lent itself rather well to the quality of acting (presumably sponsored by Cuprinol) I think you'll get the idea.

One final thing, given that Mr Baldwin is on the slightly doughy side, it's probably a good thing that he didn't take off his everpresent grey sweater, which was disturbingly clingy.

And yes, I'll probably end up watching it again.

2009, the year of craft

2009-03-16T12:44:00.000Z

Yes indeed, this year I intend to make more 'stuff' than you can shake a stick at. Be it jewellery (for the shop or for my own fair person), cosmetics (see previous post for first attempt), candles, crochet, knitting. I'm going to try it all out. I suspect the House of Craft may well benefit from this, as what I like to do if I'm learning about a craft is to try a kit - that way there's no hunting about looking for random items that I may well have forgotten to buy.

This coming weekend will see me faffing about in the kitchen with a candlemaking kit. As well as trying to learn how to do the Full Persian chainmaille weave.

Oh and figuring out what I'm making for a) the Crafteroo Time for Tea swap and b) a thank you present.

It's all go here.

Balmy weather, isn't it?

2009-01-31T15:12:00.000Z

Good start, as ever. Still, I have been a-crafting, not just sitting about. No, I've been sitting about with pliers in my hands. Dead helpful.

I have also been making lip balm. Yes, lip balm. Considering I should have shares in Carmex and Lipsyl, it's probably a very good thing to learn how to do. So, having purchased a kit from Aromantic, which contained everything I needed, I set to work.

Handily, everything was measured out to the quantities necessary, so it was just a case of melting and mixing, then pouring into lipsalve tubes (also handily provided).

It turned out that the mixture actually made more than would fit into the tubes, so I had to use some stacking pots that I had lying around the house (hoarding has its uses, occasionally!)

So, that was it. Much easier than I was expecting, though I have learned that melting things in a jug makes them MUCH easier to pour out.

The book of Face

2009-01-28T16:57:00.000Z

It has its uses (mainly to feed my addiction for very silly games), but today, rather than doing actual work, y'know, the stuff I get paid to do, I've been writing a big note to go on my profile, which contains 25 random things about me. It was remarkably hard work to do, so I'm going to be very lazy now and just copy and past the whole thing here. So it doesn't get lost.

1. I'm a qualified librarian, though that's not a particularly random thing, I don't think. Never mind, it'll get better. I hope.

2. I have a total hatred of txtspk. It enrages me in ways that are rather worrying. So much so that I go to great lengths to spell out all the words in text messages, even if they take me several years to write.

3. I'm also the least confident person I know. This may well not come as a surprise to many of you, but there you go. So much for me controlling everyone's perception with the power of my mind.

4. However, one day, I will rule the universe. Oh yes, it will be mine.

5. My mother is one of the most amazing and wonderful people I have ever met. No matter what life has thrown at her, she comes out smiling on the other side. I am honoured and privileged to call her a friend as well as Mam.

6. That last thing just made me cry. Again, that's probably not a surprise, since I am capable of crying at most anything. Including a documentary about Lassie.

7. When I was little, I used to do tap, ballet and ballroom dancing. The ballet I'm not so bothered about, but I really do wish I'd kept up with the tap and the ballroom. I love to dance, but with the whole confidence thing (see item 3) it generally happens in the privacy of my sitting room, with the curtains drawn.

8. I have a deep and abiding love for very, very cheesy films. This includes the original Godzilla films (think man in unconvincing rubber suit) as well as other, less well known classics such as Fire Maidens from Outer Space, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians and Them!

9. I am appallingly supersititious. Magpies get the full treatment, I have serious misgivings when people put their umbrellas up in the office to dry them out and have been known to cross roads to avoid walking under ladders.

10. I have an unusual talent for remembering random stuff. Postcodes, telephone numbers, book codes (which we use at work), all kinds of nonsense. I have no idea how it works, but it does make me fairly good to have on your pub quiz team.

11. I like to think I am hilarious. I suspect, however, that I may not be quite as funny in real life.

12. I am an inveterate hoarder. My house is packed with odds and ends which 'may' be useful at some unspecified point in the future. I also have a vast collection of things that I can't throw out because of the sentimental value attached. This does not bode well for when I move house.

13. The collecting mania extends to books, mainly due to the fact that I work for a publisher, so get a lot of free books. I also happen to adore books and reading (so it makes sense that I studied librarianship, in a way), so find it terribly hard to get rid of them.

14. There are people who've been in my life, who I miss every single day. And I would give anything to have that one minute/hour/day more - to say the things I left unsaid.

15. Conversely, there are also people I've met, who I don't miss. But one way or another, they've all changed my life in some subtle way, some for good, some not so good. But I don't really regret meeting any of them, with the possible exception of the yorkshire gangster wannabe.

16. I have a bit of a stationery fetish. Not in a sexual way, before anyone starts. I just love to have pens and pencils and notebooks and all manner of stationery items. It started with erasers and it's just gone from there really. I don't think my dad helped either, with his 'everyone can use a nice pen' idea.

17. I love visiting castles and stately homes and gardens. It sounds a bit fogeyfied, but there are some fascinating stories to be gleaned, as well as some marvellous interior design and architecture to be viewed.

18. It's my ambition, one day, to do a tour of some of Frank Lloyd Wright and Charles Rennie Mackintosh's finest buildings. I have been fascinated with their work for years, not to mention the fact that they were really interesting people.

19. I have decided that 2009 is to be the Year of Craft. I'm aiming to try as many different crafts as I possibly can. I already make jewellery, I've just made some lip balm, which was huge and fragrant fun and I'm soon going to teach myself to crochet (and possibly knit as well). I'd also like to go back to doing tapestry and learn to cross stitch a bit better. Candle making is on the agenda as well.

20. I write quite a lot (which is why it's strange that I'm finding this note so ruddy hard to finish), but it's mainly just for my own amusement.

21. I love tea. The drink, not the meal. Herbal, fragranced, fruit, instant - I'll try anything in the tea arena. Coffee too, though I don't have quite as much of an obsession about it.

22. My favourite animal is the pig, though dogs do come a close second. I have an ever expanding collection of pigs and pig-related items, so if you're ever stuck for an idea for a present (all gifts are gratefully received), then pigs are always a good bet.

23. I have a massive, massive insect phobia. If it crawls, scuttles, slithers, flies, flaps or buzzes then I want nothing to do with it. Especially as they insist on flying round my head. GET AWAY FROM ME!

24. I have a bead addiction. I justify it to myself by saying that they'll be used when I make jewellery and so on, but the reality is that I just like to have them. Shinyshinybeadybeady.

25. C'mon, one more thing and you're done. Lordy. Oh yes, I broke my arm when I was 9, falling off a horse. Hence I have a very long scar on my arm, which I hide by never wearing short sleeved or sleeveless tops. Phew, that's it. I'm outta here.

So, there you have it. 25 random (or not) things about me. Blimey.

One big pile of...

2009-01-25T22:00:00.000Z

Yes, I'm sure you know where I was going with that. Especially when I reveal that I'm currently viewing (for the second time, as I couldn't believe it the first time) a film called Mammoth. I also didn't see this all the way through, so thought I'd check it out again. As one does of a Sunday evening in January.

I think it's meant to be some kind of sci-fi comedy horror. Well, one word's right, anyway. I'm actually quite astonished that Tom Skerritt (who I've always admired) wanted to be a part of this.

The plot, such as it is, revolves around a prehistoric mammoth. Which has apparently been revived by some kind of alien technology. And is now on a rampage round a small town in middle America, which appears to be populated by an assortment of complete freaks and weirdos. And two of the most useless FBI types in history.

And when I tell you that they're now using a microwave to revive a disembodied hand, I think that pretty much explains everything, really. I may not make it to the end of the film this time either.

Bad fillums rool

2008-06-09T22:49:00.000+01:00

I have just sat and watched 'Bone Eater'. The most gloriously shitty film I've seen in a long while. Abso-bloody-lutely brilliant stuff.

The cast list reads like a who's who of cheese. Gil Gerard (almost unrecognisable), Bruce Boxleitner, William Katt, Veronica Hamel (also unrecognisable, I suspect large amounts of botox) and Walter Koenig (I missed his bit though).

Plot goes thus: Workers on the evil real estate developer's site uncover sacred native american relics. Cue dramatic music and small earthquake, then appearance of 8 foot tall skellington which then proceeds to dissolve the workers. Yes, you read that right, DISSOLVE them. (It was at this point that my sense of disbelief not only suspended itself, but flew off into the night.) Turns out that this large creature is the titular Bone Eater, according to legend a naughty shaman who went a bit power crazy and killed loads of people (dissolving may have featured, but that wasn't really expanded on). So, more dissolvings (total and partial, in the case of one unfortunate deputy) later, there's a very fast eclipse and some other mumbo jumbo.

If you get the chance, and you don't have anything more interesting or useful to do (such as watching paint dry or grass grow), then give it a try. It won't disappoint. Honest!

Chairs and stuff

2008-04-12T16:51:00.000+01:00

Well, I got the chair. Wooo. My first thought when I saw it was 'Christ on a bike, it's the widest chair in the ENTIRE world. Oh god, I'm going to hate it.'

But, slowly, it's growing on me. Much like mould. And, though I hate to admit it, it is pretty comfortable and it appears to be helping my back. Which is, of course, the entire point of it.

Of course, the rumblings from Occupational Health still continue. Now they're after feedback. It's a chair. I park my jacksie on it and I then get up later. It's fine, thanks. Now bog off and let me get on with my job. I am hoping (possibly in vain), that now I have provided feedback (it was slightly better worded, I must admit) we can draw a line under this entire shitey episode and just move on. Fingers crossed.

Or they would be, if I actually could. Just to add insult to injury, I had a rather spectacular tumble on my way to work one morning. Just over two weeks ago. I blame the French president, as I'm sure it was the motorcycle outriders protecting his car that distracted me for that one vital second. Ha! Anyway, down I went, like the proverbial lead balloon.

There were two very lovely people who rushed over to help me up and dust me down, so I thanked them profusely and limped off to work. I was really worried about my back (after all the shenanigans I've had with it, that's not really a surprise), but it seems to have coped remarkably well. Same for my knees, which were barely bruised. It was my hands that appear to have taken most of the damage. In particular my left hand which was badly sprained and bruised. I did have to go to A&E to have it checked out and thankfully it wasn't broken. I've had to wear a wrist splint for the last two weeks which is now really annoying me. And I'm a little concerned about my hand as it seems to be taking a while to get back to normal. So, to the doctor on Monday afternoon it is. Oh, the joy.

Well...

2008-02-29T16:48:00.000Z

It's certainly been a bit of a week or two. The problem with my back has recurred - the sciatica came back (though thankfully, it's subsiding now) and I am fairly sure it's not been helped by new furniture and the new layout. So, my boss arranged for a workstation assessment. And, surprisingly enough, my chair was flagged as a bit of a problem. Okay, so we just get a new chair, right?

Wrong. What happens next is that I end up having to go and see Occupational Health. I go there, thinking that it's actually about making sure that we get the right chair, that won't do any more damage to my back. TWENTY MINUTES I was in that ruddy office, before the chair was even mentioned. It appears that this was merely an opportunity to have a good old poke at the fat freak. Before I go any further, the occupational health people at my work are, in my own very humble opinion, clinically insane. And incapable of anything even remotely resembling tact.

I was asked if I'd lost weight because (and I quote) 'you don't look like you have.' Well, hello, it's lovely to see you too. There then followed a fairly prolonged harangue on how much better I'd feel, how her niece had lost so much weight and it had made such a difference (good for her, say I, but this has NOTHING to do with me) and how we all have our problems to deal with...blah..blah..blah. Then, after being asked if I wanted to be weighed (Hell no!), and on replying in the negative, being told that it wasn't optional because they would have to have the right weight for the chair.

I cannot put into words how utterly crap I felt. How pathetic and feeble and weak. I came out of the OH office feeling like I was a vile and useless creature. And all of this was coming from someone who's apparently a trained counsellor. Trained by whom? Attila the Hun, perhaps? I went back upstairs to my desk (via the loos where I sobbed for 10 minutes) and tried to calm myself down. I don't think it was one of my more productive afternoons.

What I can say is that my mam is an absolute star. She coped with her grown up daughter (who should know better) sobbing pathetically down the phone that night. And I mean really sobbing. The snotty, gulping sort of sobbing that you did when you were a kid and fell down and really hurt yourself. She managed to calm me down and was... well... just utterly fabulous.

My boss has also been fairly ace about this. He was really quite shocked when he found out (I ended up in tears again at my meeting with him the next day) and went down to tell the OH people that all he wanted was a chair for me. Just a chair. He didn't want a traumatised employee, who couldn't get through a day without crying.

Which brings me on to this week. I had to be measured, because they're going to have a chair made for me. So I went down again and I swear, it was like Laurel and Hardy had never died. Still, there were only two pointed remarks about my weight, so that was an improvement. Pfft.

And then on Thursday, I had to be measured again. Because the people at the company were a little 'concerned' about the figures they'd got. Thankfully the man who came to do this was lovely. (And rather hot too. *blush*) And frankly, I can understand why they'd be concerned at the figures considering who was doing the measuring. Bitter, me?

So, that's where we are right now. From what I understand, it's now a case of waiting for quotes and contracts to be signed and so on. Hopefully, I should have a new chair in a couple of weeks or so.

And do you know what the most ridiculous thing about this is? I specifically said to my boss(no, actually I virtually begged) that I didn't want any fuss. No fuss at all. If this is what they call no fuss, then god help us all.

New Year, New Me?

2008-01-19T16:47:00.000Z

I sincerely hope so, though things aren't going entirely as I'd hoped.

Firstly, I am still missing a bathroom ceiling. It was all supposed to be sorted out whilst I was away for Christmas, but things went a bit awry. The builders turned out to be less than reliable (whodathunkit!) and the people upstairs (who were also having work done by them - work that was left unfinished) told them to naff off. Which I can totally understand, but it does mean that I now have to arrange to get quotes (something that was proving slightly difficult last year) and then get the work done.

My back is also playing up, which I could really do without. It's been horrendously painful this week (back to the pain down the leg business). I really, really don't want this to come back, I'm not sure I am strong enough to cope with it. Plus I'm already fretting about people thinking I'm just taking the piss.

I have also now broken out in a mammoth rash of cold sores. It started on Wednesday (my lip was swollen up like nobody's business) and I thought it was calming down nicely, but today I've got a whole new crop of them. I must be more run down than I thought. Great stuff.

My one main plan this year was to try and stay positive, but it's proving rather tricky. All I can do is grit my teeth (which is rather painful work) and hang on, until things improve. So that's what I'll do. Just keep doing what I can and try not to give myself such a hard time if things get a bit too much. After all, I'm only human.

Les Miserables

2007-11-19T16:46:00.000Z

That’s what I’ve got. A severe dose by the looks of things. I spent most of the weekend feeling like a complete and utter waste of space, air and skin. I even spent nearly 4 hours working solidly on my first bit of chain-mail jewellery, which did keep me occupied and gave me some pleasure, but it just all seems so fleeting.

I’m back on the old hating myself thing. I’m managing to convince myself that people are just hanging round with me because they’ve got nothing better to do. God, I should know better than this, I really should.

I swear, this year’s knocked me back a mile. One thing after another, it feels like and I never give myself an inch. And why is that? Because I don’t feel that I deserve it. I feel like I’m always being tested and found wanting.

It’s utter bollocks and I should know that. I really should. I just need to convince myself that I’m worth that effort. God knows I wouldn’t treat any of my friends so harshly, in fact, I’d be the first one to shout if anyone else did. I need my inner voice of doom to shut the jeff up and listen for a change.

So, if anyone’s got any ideas on how I do that, I’ll be accepting answers on a postcard to the usual address.

Lazy Sunday

2007-09-09T16:44:00.001+01:00

At least, it would be if the people next door weren't making enough noise to wake the ruddy dead. I have no idea what they're having done in their house, but blimey, surely it shouldn't be this noisy! Hammering all day yesterday and what sounds like sanding the floorboards or something today. Wooyay.

Of course, they have every right to do whatever the hell they want in their own house. I wouldn't want to stop them. But it doesn't mean that I don't have the right to be decidedly pissed off at the fact that I can barely hear myself think. So much for soundproofing.

Bizarrospam is back! Hurrah!

2007-08-23T16:42:00.000+01:00

It would appear that spammers are becoming ever more creative with their 'offerings'. Another small selection of subject lines (and my immediate thoughts upon them) for your delight. Or something.

Recalling her features drove the monsters from my mind. - Your therapist appears to be doing you the world of good.

What is that ghostly face looking out balefully after him from behind the arras. - My mind, it is the boggled. And leave my arras out of it.

Protect your manhood! - Pink shirts are the devil's work.

Why don't you buy some drugs to be healthy? - I have all the viagra I'll ever need thanks - hotmail is sorting that one for me.

I just started having sex and my boyfriend keeps popping out when we do it. - I have no words. None. Other than to perhaps suggest that you tie him to the bed.

Beware of fake pills. - Sage advice. Thank you.

Can you let me know what you think about this, I would be very interested in what you think. communication as well. we have slang gestures. - I've got a couple of slang gestures of my own that I think you might like.

Marvellous stuff.

Birthday fun

2007-08-05T16:41:00.000+01:00

'Twas my 38th birthday on Friday, and a better day I have not had in a long time. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Which, I believe, is fairly customary.

I had the day off from work, which is always a good thing. We also had a visit from the insurance people about the bathroom ceiling. The man was in the house barely 10 minutes. After six ruddy months of waiting and he's there less than 10 minutes. That's what I call value for money. Pfft. Still, he decided that he was going to release the money for the repairs, so hopefully I'll have a bathroom ceiling before the end of the year. Hurrah!

I also spent most of the afternoon and evening drinking lots and having fun on a boat on the Thames. I was thrilled to bits with the number of people who were able to make it, people I hadn't seen for absolutely ages. That's mainly down to self-imposed exile and sheer immobility for two months of the year, but it was lovely to see them all again.

And I got lots of lovely presents and cards - all very much gratefully received. Among the gifts were a large cuddly Godzilla (to go with my little cuddly Godzilla - Big G and Little G), the original Godzilla film on DVD, a Samuel Z Arkoff box set (B-Movie heaven!), Man From UNCLE box set, Trumpton DVD, Mr Benn DVD, books, a mug, smellies, stationery and a beautiful compact mirror. I think I did rather well for myself there.

I also hope that this marks a turning point. I received the forms for my counselling yesterday too - so I'll be filling them out and sending straight away. This year hasn't had the greatest of starts, but here's to a much improved second half of it!

Internet musings

2007-07-08T16:39:00.000+01:00

I actually meant to post this last week, as it was fresh in my mind, but I got distracted. Pfft.

Anyway, last Sunday morning, as you do, I was watching the Heaven & Earth show. It's quite good, as religious programming goes. Anyway, there was a feature on the show about online churches. There are quite a number in Second Life, and they appear to be quite popular. There are also a number of online religious communities spread around the country. After the feature was shown there was a discussion with the studio guests, Nina Myskow, GP Taylor and some other bloke whose name I have completely forgotten.

Two of the people, unnamed man and Ms Myskow were really quite scathing about the use of internet forums and so on. Which got me thinking. I've been using discussion boards and forums for a good 5 to 6 years now and for the most part, it's been a hugely positive experience. I have met people who I now consider to be my closest friends. They have been there to support me during the bad times, celebrate during the good times and give me an alternative perspective when it's needed. Without that, I'd be a much lesser human being than I am today. I have grown in confidence (though, yes, that is quite fragile) and have expanded my horizons much more than I would had I not met them.

However, outstripping all of that has been the opportunities for so much fun and laughter. Which, frankly, makes life worth living.

To dismiss all of that with an airy wave of one's hand and wittering that people like me are sad and pathetic is to completely miss the point of all this. And strangely enough, it was the ex-vicar (GP Taylor) who was most in favour of online communities. Though thinking about it, perhaps with his background he can actually see the benefits rather than looking at the pitfalls.

Rain and sunshine

2007-07-05T16:37:00.000+01:00

The last week or so, the weather here has been rubbish. Veering from grey, cold and damp to bright sunshine. I have the heating on in my flat right now - and it's July for heaven's sake!

Wednesday evening was a case in point. I was working late (summer working hours, work extra during the week and get a Friday off every other week), so when I finally left, it was just in time for the skies to turn dark and menacing. Still, as luck would have it, I managed to get on the bus before the rain started. However, halfway through the journey, the thunderstorm started. I have not seen rain that heavy for quite some time. It was bouncing off the tops of cars, bus stops, the pavement, umbrellas and assorted folk like anything. And of course, when the time came for me to change buses, it was still going (along with the booming thunder!). So, there I was stuck half underneath a very crowded bus shelter and half underneath my umbrella, when the sun started to come out, way over in the distance.

And of course, sun + rain = rainbows! I managed to get a picture of a particularly spectacular one whilst I was waiting at the bus stop. The picture quality isn't brilliant, but that's cameraphones for you.

Best of all, it's a doubler! I get stupidly excited when I see double rainbows. But then, I think I'm just a bit of a weather geek.

Blues. Again. Bah.

2007-06-17T16:35:00.000+01:00

I know what it's all about today. Which is a bit of a change from normal, where I'm just a bit clueless. Still, today's blues are hard, since I can do absolutely nothing about it. I just have to ride it out.

To be honest, I've been dreading today for weeks. Ever since the signs for Father's Day started appearing in the card shops. More so than is usual, but I think that's also related to the other things that have happened this year. And how much I've wished my dads (yep, both of 'em) were there to turn to.

I know I'm luckier than a lot of people, in that not only was my real father an absolute hero, but my stepfather was too. Despite me not wanting him to be, when I first met him. Unfortunately, it sometimes makes it incredibly hard to deal with the fact that neither of them are here now.

Funny thing was, I managed to keep the tears away until I talked to my mother earlier today. And it only started when I just wanted to make sure they had known how much I loved them. I suppose it's the thing you worry about most. Making sure that the people you love actually know that. I think it's the one thing I'm most bothered about with friends and family now.

Though, on reflection, it's not entirely a bad thing.

Finally! Success!

2007-06-16T16:32:00.000+01:00

Yes, I have finally triumphed with British Gas! Sick and tired of the constant bills, despite not receiving gas from them for the past SEVEN years and mindful of the fact that they appear to have the determination of a pitbull with a bone, I decided to take action.

So, there I was, bill for £853.71 and other letter threatening court action in hand, as I rang their Customer Services line. After being on hold for a good 20 minutes, I finally got to speak to an advisor. Who, much to my surprise, was incredibly helpful and really very pleasant. A complete change to the last person I spoke to at BG and really not what I was expecting.

She said that I didn't owe them anything and that, since my name was not on the bills, I was not legally obliged to pay anything. She also said that she would remove the details from their database. So, with any luck, that's the end of it.

Thank the lord.

Adverts, schmadverts

2007-05-19T16:29:00.000+01:00

I used to be one of those odd people who would look forward to the commercial break. Those days are now long, long gone. If it's not Howard from the ruddy Halifax caterwauling like a cut-price karaoke singer, it's Michael Winner being a patronising cock in order to flog insurance. Where's the creativity in that? And don't get me started on those horrendous 'Brand Power' adverts. Helping you buy better, my arse.

There have been some really fantastic ad campaigns in recent times - the Sony Bravia bouncy balls/exploding paint ones, the Honda one where they took the car apart to make a Heath Robinson-esque marvel are both notable examples - so why on earth must there be so many bad ones? The recent Mark Benton adverts for Nationwide are fairly amusing (Hairy Little Cat, meow - never fails to raise a snigger), but then they're shoved up against interminable ones for car insurance or people willing to sue on your behalf because you fell over. Actually, there are certain of those particular ads which make me quite queasy - the ones with the 're-enactments'. Just like a shorter version of Casualty, though without the appearance of Charlie. Which may or may not be a good thing.

Blah, blah and more bloody blah.

2007-05-19T16:28:00.000+01:00

I don't really have a huge lot to say at the moment, being as I've been off sick for the past three weeks with another sodding flare up of the sciatica I had earlier this year. I have to say, so far 2007 has sucked. Big style.

I've just been to the loo (slightly TMI there, but just indulge me for a moment) and on the way back to the living room decided to make myself a cup of tea. Spiced Chai Latte (part of the instant tea range from Whittards, which I adore) and I've just had to stop myself from crying. I am so fed up with everything. I don't think I've had a year quite this bad for a long long time and I feel like I'm struggling to cope. I know it's small beans compared with other people, but then, as I keep telling people, you can't compare yourself to other people. Down that road, madness lies (as Yoda might well have said).

I think it's just that I feel like a big, fat, useless failure. Logically, I know that's not true. I have my own flat (which I bought all on my own), I have a pretty good job and I have a lovely family. I also have some absolutely terrific friends. I just keep thinking that I'm letting everyone down - that I'm a constant disappointment. And I can't seem to shake it off, that big black cloud hanging over me.

I've made a start though. My new doctor (same surgery, but different doctor - I will NEVER voluntarily see my previous doctor ever again) is lovely. So much so, that I actually mentioned my weight to him. And he didn't make me feel like a total freak or a total loser. He was just lovely about it. I rarely mention it - even to my family or friends - because it's horrendously emotional and I really worry about not being able to handle letting those emotions out. I can't spend my life like this, it's got to change. So I made that first step. And it felt good. Realistically, I know that it's going to take time and that it's not going to be easy, but I have to do it. Otherwise I'll go under.

Releasing my inner librarian

2007-04-09T16:26:00.000+01:00

I have spent all day faffing about here. It's an absolutely fantastic site and a wonderful way to lose hours and hours of your life.

Being a qualified librarian (and certifiable geek) I've been after a way to catalogue things like DVDs, books and so on, but this is much more. You can add films that you've seen (big or small screen), the TV programmes that you watch, music you listen to and so on. So far I've catalogued all my DVDs (100) but I've barely scratched the surface of my book collection (151 so far). I suspect that's going to take absolutely ages.

I've done some of the films I've seen and some of the TV programmes that I watch now and used to watch. I haven't started on my cds yet, so that'll be fun too.

And, in other news, this week has been noticeably brighter than last week. In fact, I've had a lovely Easter weekend just pottering about happily. And my back is improving all the time, which I think helps immensely.

Oh how we love British Gas

2007-04-05T16:20:00.001+01:00

Remember this?

Well British Gas are at it again. Or at least, that's what my suspicious mind suspects. I got home last night, there's a lovely note addressed to 'The Occupant'. This could be any one of the 4 people living in this building (in 3 separate flats), none of which are specified.

And yes, it's another disconnection notice. Just over a year since the last one. My gas supplier hasn't changed. It's still nPower, just as it has been for the last SEVEN years.

I have tried ringing the number on the slip, but 'Jasper' isn't answering his mobile. The nice people at nPower said that they must have the wrong address. I just suspect that they're trying to make a quick few quid. Muppets. No wonder people complain about them so much.

Happy Birthday Dad

2007-04-01T16:18:00.000+01:00

It would have been my dad's 63rd birthday today. And I would have loved to celebrate it with him. Unfortunately, that's not going to happen, because he died 11 years ago. The reason I say this is because I've been thinking about him an awful lot of late, for reasons I am about to explain.

This year hasn't had the happiest or easiest of starts. My boiler finally gave up the ghost, leaving me without heating or hot water - and necessitating the expenditure of nearly £3000 to get the problem sorted out - I ended up (after laying out £500 in a desperate attempt to coax the old one back to life) getting a brand new one installed, which has been functioning perfectly.

Just after that was sorted out, my bathroom ceiling collapsed. There's a very long story attached, involving one of the stupidest people it's ever been my misfortune to meet, the previous owner of the flat upstairs who really couldn't give a damn and the new owners, who weren't told of the various failings of the previous tenant (aforementioned stupid person - who managed to burn a hole in the bath. Seriously.) That's still waiting to be fixed, so I currently have a big gap in the ceiling, through which I regularly get falls of rubble.

And then, just as I was getting my head round those two little 'problems', I ended up with a slipped disc and attendant sciatica. I have NEVER experienced pain like it and I never want to again. I was away from work for four and a half weeks, the longest I've ever been off sick. I have now been back three weeks and I am still snowed under. And my back/leg is not totally healead. It'll take a long time, these things generally do. And I am making pretty good progress, all things considered.

The one thing I tried not to think during all this year was 'Oh god, I want my dad.' Because it just makes it worse. I think today's brought it all out because my thoughts naturally drift his way at this particular time of the year. And because I know he'd have made it all feel better. He'd have dried my childish tears, given me one of his bearhugs and sorted it all out. He was always there. And frankly, I have sometimes have no idea how I have managed without him. I miss him every single day and for that there is no cure.

Time heals, or so the saying goes. Up to a point, that's true, but there are wounds that stubbornly refuse all efforts, scar tissue that remains resolutely painful. Things you learn to live with. You don't get over them, just accept that they are there. Some days are better than others, so you just have to steel yourself to get through the bad ones.

So there you have it. It's that day again. And I just want to say that I love you, Dad. More than I could ever hope to put into words. And I have to hope that you knew that.

Fashion tips for numpties

2007-03-26T16:11:00.000+01:00

This evening, as I was waiting for my second bus (having shown myself up on the first one by appearing to have a seizure - I was trying to rid myself of unwelcome attention by an arachnid) I noticed a shifty looking character waiting at the same bus stop. He was clad in a white tracksuit top, black tracksuit bottoms and brown brogue type shoes.

BROWN shoes? With black trousers? That's all kinds of wrong, right there. Not to mention that it just looked terrifyingly odd to be wearing fairly formal shoes with tracky bottoms. You would think people would know these things. Or maybe they just don't care.

Maybe I'm the freaky one for thinking about it quite so much.

Tranquility

2007-03-25T16:09:00.000+01:00

You can't buy this in any shop, apparently. And I should know because I've seen the advert about 15 times today. And it's driving me ever so slightly round the bend.

Quite why anyone would want to buy a set of cds that include dodgy covers of such things as 'I Will Always Love You' and 'Nights in White Satin' done via the gift of pan pipes is beyond me. But perhaps that just speaks more about my bitter and twisted nature than anything else.

I've also discovered that any advert featuring Jamie Oliver gets my hackles up immediately. I can't even put into words exactly what it is that annoys me so much. I think it's the way he always seems to be showing off - 'look at me, just tossing all this stuff together'. Gimp. And don't lean over everything. I'm sure that's not hygienic.

I am back in the land of the (barely) living

2007-03-22T15:47:00.000Z

At least, that's what I have to keep telling myself. After adventures in the land of sicknotes, I returned to work last Monday. And from the chaos rampant at work, you would think I had been off for months, rather than weeks. Okay, I know it was 4 and a half weeks, I know it was not well timed, but heavens above, do people not have initiative to use?

My colleague coped admirably with my absence, though given that we are already doing the work of three (possibly four) people between the two of us, you can imagine what he's had to deal with. And of course, once you're back at your desk, people automatically assume that you're totally tip-top and up to full speed. Nope. Nuh-uhh. Not a frickin' chance. I'm lucky if I get to quarter-speed. And then it's with a following wind.

But you're owed the saga of my sick note. Oh boy. A tale and a half. First week, I waited until the Wednesday (even though I didn't need it until Thursday), rang the doctor's surgery early in the morning. The first receptionist I spoke to was a beauty. I said 'I wonder if you can help me, I have a serious problem with my back.' At this point she interrupted me with 'Don't we all? I've got a really bad back.' I was so stunned I couldn't speak for a moment but carried on regardless. I explained that I wasn't in any fit state to go back to work and could I get a sick note. No, I couldn't make it to the surgery, the doctor would have to come out. Blah blah blah. Anyway, it turned out that the doctor was busy, so could I ring back later. Which I did, went through the same rigmarole and finally got through to the doctor. He was rubbish. Admittedly I already knew that he had all the bedside manner of an air raid, but there you go. He grudgingly agreed to a sick note for a week after I'd had to argue the toss. He also said that he'd write me a prescription for some painkillers and stuff. Lovely. Great.

Only not quite. Then came the small matter of attempting to get it picked up. First they said, we'll send it. Then, no, we can't do that, it's not policy. Could I get there to pick it up? My eyes were rolling so hard they nearly fell out at this point, but I patiently pointed out that if I'd been able to get up there to see the doctor, I might not even have needed a sick note. Pfft. So, I had to try and arrange to get the sick note and prescription collected. Unfortunately, the earliest this could be done was the following Monday, due to a combination of me being a div and other people being busy as busy things. Unfortunately, I didn't actually get the painkillers and stuff until the day after when a friend popped over to see me and went to the local pharmacy.

If I'd had the drugs earlier, I might not have needed a further sicknote, which I attempted to get on the Wednesday. By the way, this is the first time in my entire life I have needed anything like this and from the runaround I got, I will be making damn sure it's the last. So I started ringing at 8.45 on the Wednesday morning, explaining that the doctor wanted to see me, but that I was unable to get there, due to being in severe pain and whatnot, so he would have to come out to see me. And was told to ring back later, because he was busy. So I did, at which point he was in a meeting. Rang back, he was still in the meeting. Rang back, he was on another line. Rang back again, to be told that he wouldn't give me a sick note, because he needed to see me. At this point, I burst into tears and explained that I'd rung several times to explain this and yet all I'd been told was to ring back later. The receptionist was very nice and spoke to the practice manager, and they booked me in there and then for a home visit. Naturally they couldn't say when the doctor would be arriving, but it was definitely on his list.

So I waited. And waited. Then waited some more. Until 9pm in fact, when I pretty much gave up on it. I'd not done anything to eat or drink in case I missed him, so was feeling pretty grim. So I rang the next morning straight away and spoke to the practice manager. And asked why the doctor hadn't turned up. She was very good, said that she'd been there and seen that it had all been booked in and everything, couldn't understand what had happened. I said that I was now sans sicknote, in a bit of a state, naturally and still in pain. So she said she would hand this over to the doctor on call for that particular day. (The previous day, it was my own doctor who was on call. The one on whose list I am registered and who shall henceforth be known as Dr Shithead.) And give him his due, he rang exactly when he said he would. Backdated my sicknote to cover the correct days (in addition to being a grumpy arsehole, Dr Shithead had also started the sicknote on the wrong sodding day. Gimp.) and was the very model of politeness. And then, guess what?! They actually POSTED the ruddy thing out to me. Honestly, the mind, it just boggles.

When I went back the next week (I could actually sit for a few minutes, so risked a taxi ride up the hill), I saw the lovely new doctor (who I will be seeing from now on. Dr Shithead will be a distant, if annoying, memory) and discovered that there's only a sodding pharmacy IN the surgery itself. And that they have a collection/delivery service for people who are housebound. Words fail me. They really do.

I only hope that the next time I need to call on the services of a doctor, this particular practice has raised their game considerably. Muppets.

Lumbago, lumbago, they drink it in Tobago...

2007-02-19T15:45:00.001Z

Or not, as the case may be.

You know that old saying about trouble coming in threes? Well, if this isn't my third, then I dread to think of what's next. Oh yes, I have lumbago (or sciatica or whatever the hell the diagnosis du jour happens to be) caused by a slipped disc. Actually it's a ruptured or 'herniated' disc, according to NHSDirect. Whoo.

Anyway, the fact remains that I am now stuck at home, unable to walk very far, unable to stand for terribly long and only able to sit for a minute or two at a time. It's a vast improvement on this time last week, when it all started. I never, ever want to experience another Sunday like that, it was terrifying.

The worst of it all was that I thought I'd just strained my back. On the Tuesday I'd been shifting some crates (after our very temporary office move - we moved again the next weekend so didn't bother unpacking) and felt a bit of a twinge. It got worse on Wednesday, so I ended up staying at home Thursday and Friday. I thought it would just go away on its own, y'see, so just dosed myself up with painkillers and heatpads. And until the Sunday, it seemed to be working.

However, one very restless night later, I'm left with crippling pain in the back of my leg, virtually unable to move. The only position that seemed to bring any respite at all was lying face down across my bed. Oh yeah, tres attractive. So, after a hysterical phone call to my aunt, and a panicky phone call to a friend begging for more painkillers, I managed to call out the local emergency doctor. Who was ace. Diagnosed it straight away, gave me a prescription for painkillers and managed to calm me down, which was no mean feat in itself.

Suffice to say that I'm still off work, though thankfully able to at least communicate with the outside world via the gift of broadband (and a very, very long cable). It's uncomfortable to type though, so I'll leave it there for the moment and tell you the saga of my sick note next time.

Housing woe

2007-02-02T15:43:00.000Z

I think this will probably be the theme of 2007, by the looks of things. Not content with replacing the boiler - which now is a thing of beauty and oh, so quiet - I now have to have a new bathroom ceiling, as mine collapsed two weeks ago.

The feeling of utter dread as I gazed upon the rubble strewn floor is one I simply cannot describe. No words would do it justice.

However, I am proud that I didn't sink into a snotty, crying heap on the floor. I simply informed the neighbours, took some photographs (insurance purposes - though they've been handy for sharing the pain) and then started clearing up.

Our glorious managing agents sent some folks round to have a look-see on the Saturday morning. Whereupon they announced that they would be 'making it safe'. This pretty much meant that they just pulled down some more of the ceiling. Woo. And, indeed, yay. Would have been nice had they put some covering down, but what the hell, I must look like I need practice at cleaning.

And now I don't know what's happening. I need to talk to the people upstairs again (leaking bath caused the problem and is fixed, but temporarily so, as far as I'm aware) because after two weeks of having a gaping hole in the ceiling (and stopping the odd rubble fall with my head) I really, really want it sorting out.

Anyway, photos. Feel free to gasp in horror (Does she really use that shampoo? Blimey!) or shake your head sadly in sympathy. Either's good.

Boo and indeed hiss

2007-01-06T15:41:00.000Z

New Year, New You? So much for that. I'd settle for heat and hot water right now to be honest.

Oh yes, 2007 is starting off in great form. I got back to London on Thursday afternoon, to be greeted with a non-working boiler. And it's still not working. I'm hoping that the gas engineer blokey will be able to get here this afternoon to fix it, I really am. Otherwise it's Monday morning.

Having said all that, it also looks like I will need a new boiler anyway. The one I have is now 11 years old, and has cost a huge amount of money to fix over the past couple of years. I was quoted a price yesterday - of £2040 - for getting the new boiler, installation and powerflush (for the existing radiator system). Which is a HUGE amount of money. So, as long as it works for the time being, I'll be having a look around to see what else is out there.

Still, glass half full time - at least things can only improve from here. And at least I now have some NICE new neighbours. Let's face it though, I was definitely due that, after the last one!

New Year, New Post...

2007-01-02T15:40:00.000Z

It's been a couple of months, so I thought it was time to write something. Anything, really. Of course, now I'm sat here I have no idea what I actually feel like writing. Not the best start really, but there you go.

Well, last year was interesting. A year of ups and downs really. And of finding friends in unlikely places. It ended on quite a depressing note for me. Due, in part, to a combination of working too hard and sleeping too little. I really need to sort that out, it's getting a bit much really. Especially when it leaves me so little time to think up things to blog.

Spam - a new twist.

2006-10-10T14:39:00.000+01:00

And no, not with lemon.

The exciting story has now finished, to be replaced with this little gem, under the heading of 'woodlot suggestible', from my old mate Rodolfo Thong (shortly to be appearing in an upcoming episode of Kats PI).

The scythe ran into a stone. Till the cows come home. The stronger the breeze the stronger the trees. Up a tree. A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Strong as an ox. Rough as a cob. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. Sweet as apple pie. Tastes like chicken. We'll hand you out to dry. Sour as a green apple. She's a nut. Till the cows come home. Up one side and down the other. Weed out. There is always next year. A tree does not move unless there is wind. So hungry I could eat a horse.
Wait and see. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Sick as a dog. Timber! Rough as a cob. Raking in the dough. Rough as a cob. Survival of the fittest. Sow much, reap much; sow little, reap little. Some like carrots others like cabbage. That's water under the bridge. The silly season. Wait and see. To gild refined gold, to paint the lily. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.Up one side and down the other. She's a nut. Welcome to my garden. Stop and smell the roses. You can't squeeze blood out of a turnip. She's a mother hen. Thick as a brick. Sour as a green apple. That's a real stem winder. Schools out for summer. Stand your ground. Watered down. A weed is no more than a flower in disguise. Tools of the trade. Wrinkled as a prune.

Nice. I particularly like the bit about sticking it in my pipe and smoking it, though I'm slightly confused as to why anyone would ever want to gild gold. Surely it's gold enough already? But of course, I may just be a hopeless innocent when it comes to these things.

Nice of him to welcome me to his garden though. The sly dog.

Spamarama

2006-09-03T14:25:00.000+01:00

The story of bizarrospam continues apace. I'm hoping that at some point all the disparate elements of this magnificent opus merge into one fantastic ending.

The neighbors were regaled with music, but it did not harmonize with theprimitive background.
Desire ate four curlews, and, I enough crab fatto make six civilized men violently ill.
She is wise enough to take charge of the menage when I am reverting to type. When Bones held out his hand it meant only one of two things: food or woman.
Every pig and fowl on the island dashed for the bush! Is my little bird well, or is my little bird ill?
Your big manowar hawk is well,he is not ill.
Desire and I, back in the shadows, snickered sardonically.
Luckily only I among the whites could appreciate the exquisite humor of the neighbors.
In the pools were scores of blue parrot fish.
Now that the Reverend Horatio has gone it wont be wicked, I told her.
Thats the way we are on the outposts of progress.
I have eaten it for so many years that I can assimilate little else. Oh well, the startling occurrence that I intended to narrate will have to wait till tomorrow. Your big manowar hawk is well, he is not ill.
Ah, a coconut contains everything necessary tosupport a man from the cradle to the grave. But there the sharks kept at a healthy distance, asthey generally do when one is in deep water. And the little realist, throwing herself back on the sleeping mat, screamed with laughter. Youll be worshiping in a golden church before ten years are up. Then we left the point to walk along the dry brick-red reef toward the far islet. Who makes the taro grow; I ask you, who makes it grow?
She and her sister Tangi were sitting on the back balcony. But I was tight enough to laugh off his sour looks.
At the last labor pain she, Samson-like, pulled down the two posts and pushed over the third one.
She said later that she had been afraid I would fall over backward like the man inthe comic paper.
Half the deaths are due to it; I have never known of an arrested case.
Only a few of them had been broken by gnawing thighbones and cracking coconut shells. His teeth were a full inch long from gums to tips, yellow-brown, as big as aboars tusk. Then Lingutaimoa knew that Yina had killed her fish. Never had such a spectacle been dreamed of. Down the road of Central Village marched a military band! A finecavalla waited on the table to be fried, but Tangi was still in the arms ofher gift-boy.
Thusmy feet were on either side of the bole while the belt held them firmly against it.
When Bones held out his hand it meant only one of two things: food or woman. I cried, as though I had not asked her to meet me for sheunderstands such whimsies.
You are lovely, Desire, I said; but next Sunday I want you to be Miss Memory. Dont forget to ask them for some banana extract!
It looks like a puffball but is more oily and palpable.

Spam, the saga continues...

2006-08-18T14:18:00.000+01:00

I was right. Another exciting episode in my inbox today.

A large tear splashed on the solitaire board, and with the small handkerchief she wiped it off. Upstairs in the drawing-room there was grave silence. Aunt Juley was at once charmed and horrified. It will spoil the carpets, said Aunt Ann, and bark at night; weshall have no peace.
Between his Dundreary whiskers James was telling a story.
The little dog slithered forward, humbly wagging its entire body,just out of reach. It doesnt belong to us, Cook; and your master would never permitit.
I had such a pleasant walk in the Gardens, she said painfully,after church. He would not go home, but walked to the Inn. Well, said Aunt Juley, you do it on your own responsibility,Smither.
Jolyon will give me the money; he will never let you bully me.
Hell send you away with a flea in your ear.
If one cant take care of ones things, one is not fit to have them. No one said thirty; and the picture was knocked down to James,whose mouth had opened slightly.
The dog looked as if it would let her love it, and sensation increased beneath her corsets.
On no account did she mean to be the first to speak; and she said, suddenly: There you sit, Ann!
It doesnt belong to us, Cook; and your master would never permitit. A curtain had been pulled aside; in the lighted window-space stood the figure of a half-dressed man.
Aunt Ann said: Give dear Swithin his chair, Hester; we want your advice, Swithin.
They might talk as they liked: Finding was keeping; and if Timothy didntlike it, he could lump it!
A Hondekoeter; picked it up, a bargain, at Smelters sale.
The traffic was really getting beyond bounds.
The little dog slithered forward, humbly wagging its entire body,just out of reach. Aunt Juley repeated, suddenly: He followed me, Ann.
They only get in the way and spoil your trousers.
Cook spoke:Ive brought it up, miss; its had its dinner, and its beenwashed.
The little dog slithered forward, humbly wagging its entire body,just out of reach.
He got up with a sigh, the scent of nettles, burdock andthe carted hay deep in his nostrils. Better the day, better the deed, muttered Timothy; and Aunt Juley trembled.
He got up with a sigh, the scent of nettles, burdock andthe carted hay deep in his nostrils. Lightning flashed all round, he wanted it to strike. Ive been walking from the Temple; got a touch of liver now.
Im sick of peace, said Aunt Juley, rattling the board. Youought to know that, at your age, Juley; now that were alone, I can talk to you plainly. Five pounds for this genuine work by a master of domestic poultry! His friend answered: You look bobbish enough. The traffic was really getting beyond bounds.
Cook spoke: Ive brought it up, miss; its had its dinner, and its been washed.

My word! Sensations beneath corsets? That Juley's a bit of a one isn't she? As for Swithin, he's not better than he ought to be. I did notice that the little dog seems to be doing a lot of slithering, perhaps they ought to take it to the vet. All this and a master of domestic poultry. Otherwise known as a cock.

Bizarrospam strikes again!

2006-08-17T12:36:00.000+01:00

Marvellous. No, really.

They were to come in the afternoon and have dinner at night . To sit here and munch apples with Pat while Judy thumped and kneaded her bread was all he asked.
Sure and didnt I bring all of yes up on witches and are ye inny the worse av it? They were to come in the afternoon and have dinner at night . Im not wanting inny sawed-off girls at Silver Bush.
I used to be after knowing the McClenahans rale well years ago. I'd jump out of my skin if she looked cross-wise at me. Oh, oh, its the quare one she was and the foolish things she wud be saying. Its the quanes own cloth Im waving and sour enough her Majesty'll look if its not finished on time.
And if itwas left without any one to live in it it would break its heart. Dear God, please bring McGinty back to Jingle. Judy was of opinion that the dog had been stolen. Oh, oh, she isn't called a witch for nothing, that one, said Judy, when she had heard the whole tale.
And how lonesome the Long Lonely House looks. Sure now I'd an idea she'd know where McGinty was.
She didn't like it as well as her red one but itwas its turn and it mustnt be neglected. They would talk of politics and pigs and finally drift into family histories and community tales.
THAT was her and Sid's secret just as Happiness was hers and Jingles. You've always said there was a bit of a witch in you. I wish she didn't have to live so far away, said Jingle chokingly. They were large and grey and steady with a twinkle somewhere behind their steadiness.
Thewhite-washed walls of the old kitchen re-echoed to their laughter. The man turned and opened a mean little door at his right.
Judy was of opinion that the dog had been stolen. But hewent on and said the thing that spoiled it all.
Jingle put up a notice in the stores offering a reward of twenty-five cents.
Every car or buggy that drove up or down the road made Pat squirm with fear that it was Aunt Helen. Judy concocted and baked, and Cuddles tasted everything that came her way, including a frosty latch.
Dear God, please bring McGinty back to Jingle. It was lovely to sit there, so cosy and warm, with that eerie wind moaning without. And a shears-and-basin cut av hair niver improved inny one.
No, Judy might give her castor oil, as she had done the last time Pat had a cold.
Sid likes her, said Pat, a bit forlornly. And you havent got a Poets room or a round window, went on Pat still more tauntingly.
Her untidy hair was black too, coal-black, although she must be as old as Judy.
I dont think shes half as pretty, she said. How she hoped Aunt Helen wouldnt choose her! YOU look awful nice in that blue scarf, Pat, said Jingle admiringly. Jingle arrived speedily and so got his Christmas invitation by the skin of his teeth.

It's like having my own personal serialisation. I can't wait for the next episode. I'm hoping that Jingle and Pat finally get together in the barn, that McGinty arrives in one piece and that Judy wins a special prize for her baking at the WI Winter Fair.

cue end title music...

Bizarrospam

2006-08-09T12:08:00.000+01:00

I just received this most amazing piece of spam in my work email inbox, not five minutes ago.

"Right now I need the sugar.
A dead cat with a cute name.
It seemed deliciously funny.
It was the gotta, wasnt it?
For the last time, he hoped.
Now Paul could see his eyes.
Ralph Dugan from Anne Dugan.
Ralph Dugan from Anne Dugan.
""Just three times, I swear.
"She shrugged, then laughed.
He would have some of those.
She put it in his numb hand.
Youve been working so hard.
He would have some of those.
Just one week and one bitch.
The pattern was inescapable.
"I dont know what you mean.
She put it in his numb hand.
It was the gotta, wasnt it?
"But would you want to stay?
Blood pattered on the floor.
"Right now I need the sugar.
At least strongly suspected.
For the last time, he hoped.
"I gotta know will she live.
He thought he would be okay.
She looks at the old people.

There was an attachment, but I'm certainly not daft enough to try opening it. Of course, the fact that I use a mac at work means that it was probably formatted for viewing on a pc. What a shame.

But even so, it's remarkable. I have absolutely no idea what it's trying to sell me. There's no mention of herbal viagra or penis enlargements or even an offer to put me in touch with single women in my area (for the last time, I really don't need any more of them cramping my style, OK?)

Sent by a 'Raymond Scott', which was a bit of a let down. Such a normal name, for such a weird email. Of course, if it had come from Rodolfo Thong (one of my all time favourite spam-names) I wouldn't even have raised an eyebrow.

Birthday fever!

2006-08-07T12:07:00.000+01:00

Birthdays, love 'em or hate 'em, they're with us to stay. So, it's with great pleasure that I proclaim that my most recent birthday (last week) is without a doubt one of the best and most fun birthdays I have ever had.

Naturally, there would be no appreciation of the good bits without a bit of rubbish. This came in the form of work, i.e. I was at work and they appeared to be doing their best to annoy the crap out of me. Not only that, but it also appeared that not one person actually remembered that it was my birthday. Despite it being on the list. I've signed the cards and contributed to the collections for each and every one in the department. The only person who remembered was my boss. Who very kindly left me a bunch of flowers on my desk, so they were there when I arrived. And they are gorgeous - lovely white lilies with the most gorgeous fragrance. But still, it was a little bit upsetting and I did feel a little hurt.

However, that was just a minor blip. Everyone else more than made up for it. I think it's fair to say that the phrase 'embarrassment of riches' wouldn't go amiss here. Thursday (the day itself), I woke up to several cards and a present to open, the present being a Sanctuary Hand Care set. Gorgeous smellies so well chuffed there. I got to work and there was another card or two, plus two presents - firstly, the most gorgeous silver and amethyst earrings and a fab beaded bookmark, and of course, the flowers mentioned earlier. Then, mid-morning, I got another card (from my mum this time) and a bunch of flowers. These ones were lovely too - all purple and green. After lunch, yet more flowers. This time, a potted arrangement of white and corally-pink coloured flowers. I have no idea what they are, but they're lovely.

I ended up cabbing it home that night. No way was I leaving anything at work, damn them all to hell. And look, more cards on the mat when I arrived chez me.

The next day (the day of my planned celebration with friends and colleagues) I got to work and faffed about for most of the morning, interrupted only by a delivery of a birthday balloon. Balloon! I was absurdly cheery at this point, because I adhere to the Pooh philosophy on this subject: No-one can be uncheered with a ballooon. It's so true.

The afternoon wasn't nearly so busy as the morning, mainly due to not being able to log in to my computer. Quelle dommage, as they say in the posher suburbs of Rotherham. As you can tell, I was beside myself with frustration, I very nearly tutted.

Then came the celebrations. And oh my, what celebrations they were. The nicest folks were there (though a few notables were missing, they had already sent apologies etc..) and I was laden down with goodies. 4 BAGS FULL, to be precise. A signed book, a squishy cushion, scented candles, butter tablet (oh the sugary goodness), a handbag, gorgeous smellies from Molton Brown, an amethyst geode (sparkly!) and many more items besides. I'd already planned on cabbing it home that night, but it was a case of necessity rather than just being a lazy cow. Which makes a nice change, I must say.

I'm still in a bit of a state of shock, astonished at people's sheer generosity - not only did I get tons of giftage, I didn't have to buy a drink all night. And it does rather give the lie to my rather too well worn opinion of myself. Frankly, if all these people think I'm nice enough to shower with pressies and stuff, then I've got to be doing something right. Wow.

And now, the final word on this one. And one of the most talked about items on the groaning table of gifts. I'm now the proud owner of the Deluxe Librarian Action Figure. Truly a thing of wondrousness. And SO me. Look...and envy.

Yahoo! Mariah's at it again

2006-07-24T11:47:00.000+01:00

I've just been to check my email, and blow me, if it isn't Mariah Carey in her skimpiest underwear (lingerie, if you prefer that kind of thing) in an advert on the side of the page. Apparently advertising her new perfume. (As an aside, I recently saw a tv advert for this and was convinced that the perfume was called Ham. Turns out it's just called 'M'. Pfft.)

Now I know that it's not possible to tailor these things to suit everyone's delicate sensibilities, but heavens above! All I wanted to do was read my emails, not stare in thinly disguised astonishment at a half-nekkid laydee.

Where will it all end, I ask myself? Pictures of a topless Tony Blair, exhorting us to vote Labour? Peter Stringfellow clad only in a Noddy posing pouch, advertising the dubious charms of his clubs? (Though, to be fair, I've seen worse than that in heat magazine)

It just doesn't bear thinking about, does it?

2006-07-09T11:45:00.000+01:00

How It's Made
I've spent most of the morning watching this. It's like Stop, Look and Listen for grown-ups. It's really quite fascinating to discover the processes behind the manufacture of everyday objects, some of which are intriguingly complicated. Mind you, there are a couple of them that make for quite unsettling viewing. The segment on automated milking wasn't too bad, but the one covering battery chickens was just awful. Poor wee chickens.

MythBusters
I've not seen this yet today, but I try to see it whenever I can. It's an incredible show. One of the most entertaining science shows I've seen in a long time. (With the possible exception of Brainiac: Science Abuse - though that's more to do with Richard Hammond than anything else - to my eternal shame.) Mythbusters is one of those programmes that makes you think 'I'd really love to work on that.' If you get a chance, see it.

Other than that I've been indulging in watching the brilliant James Stewart. It's a double bill on ITV1 - Harvey followed by Destry Rides Again. I've seen them both several times before but hell, I could watch him reciting the phone directory and it would still be wonderful. In fact, all I need to make it an absolutely perfect Sunday is a showing of either The Philadelphia Story or It's A Wonderful Life.

Time for another post

2006-07-05T11:32:00.000+01:00

Well, it's been a while hasn't it?

Mainly due to the fact that I can't really think of a huge amount to say these days. I'm hoping that it'll pass soon though.

And of course, I've had a week away at my mother's. Which was lovely. And no, that's not sarcasm you can detect. I really did enjoy myself. A whole week (and a bit) to sit back, relax and isolate myself from everything. Well, apart from crap telly and lots of books (okay, 4 of them).

I also managed a trip to the hairdresser, which is always entertaining. I don't know if it's a northern thing, but every person who was in there came out with 'big hair'. The hole in the ozone layer wasn't caused by pollution, I'm certain it's solely due to northern hairdressers and vast amounts of hairspray. Mine was solid when I left. I also had 'big hair' even though I have it cropped short. Of course, I then spent the next few hours desperately trying to tame the bouffant. Still it wasn't quite as amazing as the frankly spectacular mullet. Which was being streaked. The lady in question was probably in her late fifties (either that or she'd had a rough paper round) and was heading off later in the week to Ibiza. Scary.

That brings me on to the next thing. The conversations you're expected to have when you're sat there in the chair. I'm not that good with chatting to people I barely know. Small talk I can do, but this ends up being miniscule talk. Strangely though, the other ladies in the salon didn't seem to have any problem with it. Of course, once I got home I imagined the way that a conversation might go (had I not been more worried about what the hell they were doing to my hair):

'Are you going out anywhere special tonight?' 'Errr... no. It's a Wednesday. I'm in a small village and I have no car. I'm going to be spending a thrilling evening huddled over a TV dinner.'

'Going anywhere nice on your holidays?' 'This IS my holiday. Yes, I know, it's a real jet-set life I lead.'

'Been watching the football?' 'No. In fact I'd rather eat my own liver, and I'm a vegetarian.'

After all that, I think it was probably a good thing I didn't really say much.

Absolutely spot on.

2006-05-25T11:30:00.000+01:00

I found this whilst searching for something similar but not (if you see what I mean)

words-of-sympathy.com

Support From Others
Author Unknown

Don’t tell me that you understand.
Don’t tell me that you know.
Don’t tell me that I will survive,
How I will surely grow.
Don’t come at me with answers
That can only come from me.
Don’t tell me how my grief will pass,
That I will soon be free.
Accept me in my ups and downs.
I need someone to share.
Just hold my hand and let me cry
And say, “My friend, I care.”

Oh how I wish I'd seen this when I needed it. It's one of those things that just makes you want to stand up and shout, 'YES! That's exactly how I feel.'

And at least now I know where to find it if I ever do need it again.

David Blaine, boo hoo.

2006-05-09T12:28:00.000+01:00

Stuntman Blaine fails to break record

He didn't manage to hold his breath for 9 minutes. Shame. Mind you I LOVED this quote from the man himself.

"I am humbled so much by the support of everybody from New York City and from all over the world. This was a very difficult week, but you made it fly by with your strong spirit and your energy. I thank you all and I love you all."

A difficult week? Honestly, the mind boggles. The man's a bloody mentalist. Though, frankly, not quite enough of a mentalist to do this in London - not after the last time.

Muppet.

Hmmm, interesssting...

2006-05-09T11:27:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | England | Wiltshire | Proposals to recreate Stonehenge

I'm wavering over whether or not I think this is a good thing. On the face of it, it sounds like a jolly good idea. But the cynic in me can't help thinking that it's just a way of creating a new 'amusement' park with a vague nod to history. And no doubt raking in vast amounts of cash.

You just couldn't make it up

2006-04-07T11:22:00.000+01:00

Were-Rabbit found to be real(ish)

I love local news. Especially stories like these.

Marvellous. One of the 'marksmen' is only 17 - bless him.

Panic stations! Panic stations!

2006-03-30T17:57:00.000+01:00

All hands to panic stations!

Yes, that's what my brain keeps screaming at me this week. It's certainly been eventful and ever so slightly stressful.

Work is ultra-busy, which is always fun. Especially when people come up with hilariously short deadlines. Well, I say hilarious, it's more 'tearing your hair out'-eous. But, so far, I'm managing to get through everything that's been thrown at me. Thankfully, this does not include bricks.

Then I arrived home last night to find a piece of paper (which looked like it had been torn from some kind of form or other) lying on the floor of the hallway. It bore the logo of British Gas and was in a lovely shade of salmon pink. And indicated that the gas supply was to be disconnected. In fact that they had called to do that very thing earlier (whilst I was out - naughty Kathryn, going to work, what the hell was I thinking). As you can imagine, it was a bit of a shock. Even more so when I tell you that I switched to npower for gas and electricity nearly 6 years ago. The paper didn't indicate which gas supply was to be disconnected, but it preyed on my mind all last night, which meant that I ended up having to get up and locate all the details of my contract with npower so I could ring and ensure that they didn't mean me - and all this at quarter to two in the morning.

So, I get into work and I ring British Gas. And speak to the most disinterested woman ever. She really couldn't have cared less. Which wound me up even more. She kept saying that it did appear to be my gas supply and that it had been with them for some time. I eventually managed to pin down that 'some time' actually meant since 2004. FOUR YEARS after I'd switched to npower. Coincidentally, this is about the time that the numpty upstairs moved in.. oh no, is that a rat I smell? Anyway, to cut a long story short, she advised me to ring Transco and find out who supplies the gas to my meter - as I have the number - which doesn't match any of the details she had. She even gave me the number, in a rare moment of helpfulness. Only it turned out to be the wrong one and was unobtainable. At this point, I was succumbing to hysteria and extremely close to tears.

Dum-dum-daaaah! Internet search engines to the rescue! Thank you google and Ask Jeeves (well up to a point anyway). I eventually tracked down a place called Energywatch which is the website of the independent energy watchdog, where I eventually found the right number for Transco.

So, I rang them, and oh lordy, what a performance. They use 'voice recognition' software which appears to be entirely faulty. 10 minutes into the call and I was still trying to get the disembodied voice to SHUT UP long enough so I can give her my address. Shortly after that, I was told 'I am still having problems understanding your request, so I will transfer you to an operator.' Halle-bloody-lujah. By this point I was wound up tighter than a really tight spring (yes, it's a crap metaphor, but hey, just go with it) and ready to scream, and then came the most irritating individual on the face of the planet. I gave her my address and postcode whereupon she asked if there was anyone living in the flat. Errr.. yes. Turned out that she couldn't give me the details, due to data protection. But... but... it's ME who lives there. ME. ONLY ME! I was almost hyperventilating I was so wound up. But eventually I managed to get hold of the details. And there's another name to add to the mix, Calortex. She gave me the number for them (I suspect she just wanted to get me off the phone) so I could ring them and ask who the devil they were and how come they were supplying me with gas.

Which I duly did. And they turned out to be npower. I mean honestly, what's wrong with using the name npower. It's no wonder people get frustrated with this kind of thing. Anyway, I spoke to a lovely woman called Maureen, who was very kind and helpful. And more importantly, she actually listened. I almost gave her my life story. And yes, at this point I was in tears. Because someone had been nice to me.

Which is what happened yesterday too. I see a pattern emerging. I may need tissues.

Reasons to be red-faced

2006-03-20T17:54:00.000Z

Only two, but there's still plenty of Monday left.

1. Winking at yourself in the mirror really isn't cool. Especially when you're not doing it in an 'ironic' way. Yes, I really did this. I went to the loo at lunchtime (well, I thought I'd treat myself), went to wash my hands and noticed that my hair was looking fairly good. Which might explain the staringness of one or two of the males across the office - though that might also have to do with cleavage on show. Errrm... but anyway, I noticed how nice the hair looked and I winked at myself. Really winked. shakes head sadly in anticipation of further descent into cheesemeistery

2. I've just noticed that I have been spending the afternoon pouting. Not in an Angelina Jolie-esque sexy way, oh no. I caught a glance of myself in the reflection of my monitor and realised that I bore an uncanny resemblance to Lewis Collins (just like in the picture below), in ultra mean and moody mode. It's not funny. Really it's not.

Poorlysick

2006-03-09T17:50:00.001Z

That's my paltry excuse for not coming up with anything of note recently. Struck down by that terrible cold that's going around. And in my prime and all. Shocking.

Anyhoo, it gave me occasion to watch daytime telly. And, oh lordy, is it rubbish. Talk shows wall to wall in the mornings, dodgy soaps in the afternoons. Still, there were compensations (thank god for cable tv) such as double Diagnosis Murder on the Hallmark Channel and re-runs of Murder She Hopes (sorry, Wrote) on UKTV Gold. Which also features as part of the Murder Mystery Sunday on the same channel - something of which I'm becoming inordinately fond. Two (or three if you're extra lucky) episodes of Murder, She Wrote interspersed with a Miss Marple (the Joan Hickson ones) and a Columbo (generally featuring Robert Culp, Robert Vaughn or Patrick McGoohan as the villain). It's a fantastic way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon, snuggled up on the sofa with a cuppa and some biscuits.

Mind you, occasionally the continuity announcers get a bit carried away. I heard one say 'And now, Miss Marple, a capeless crusader dispensing brutal vigilante justice.' I mean, for heaven's sake, it's Miss Marple, not a geriatric version of the X-Men. Sheesh.

Anyhoo, back to daytime telly and the other thing I noticed - the sheer volume of adverts for Cillit Bang (and its associated products). There's hundreds of 'em. And it's not even as if they're any good (the adverts I mean), given that they star (if that's quite the right word) the amazingly un-natural Barry Scott. Oh yes, he of 'HI, I'M BARRY SCOTT!' fame. It made me wonder if he talked like that all the time.

*Warning: potential gross-out ahead*

Like if he ever gets 'in the mood'... it's not exactly sweet nothings is it? Could you imagine him in a singles bar?
'HI, I'M BARRY SCOTT! DO YOU COME HERE OFTEN?'
'HI, I'M BARRY SCOTT! ARE YOU TIRED, COS YOU'VE BEEN RUNNING THROUGH MY MIND ALL NIGHT...'
'HI, I'M BARRY SCOTT! HERE'S 10P TO RING YOUR MUM AND TELL HER YOU WON'T BE HOME.'
'HI, I'M BARRY SCOTT! GET YOUR COAT, YOU'VE PULLED!'

Okay, I need to stop now, I've even grossed myself out - and I think you've got the idea anyway. Still, he'd make a fantastic international hitman. 'HI, I'M BARRY SCOTT! BANG! AND MY VICTIM IS DEAD!'

Not gushing, just strangely content

2006-02-23T17:41:00.000Z

Despite one of the more frustrating mornings at work I've had for quite some time, I'm still in my unseasonable good mood. I'm not entirely sure why, but hell, I like it. It just makes the days fair zip along. Whoo.

It feels as though the blinkers have come off and a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It's a great feeling I must say.

There are, of course, a myriad of minor irritations - hell, I'm not perfect (although I'm nearly there, modesty forbids me from saying more) - but they're deal-able-with. Usually with the liberal application of biting sarcasm. Which is always good.

And I'm just about to begin a 4 day weekend. Life is good.

A Thursday Revelation

2006-02-16T17:38:00.000Z

I've recently decided that I needed to start thinking positively a bit more and, as part of it, I resolved to find at least one positive thing in each day.

Today has proved an embarrassment of riches. Not only have I come to work, to a job that I mostly enjoy, but one that has provided me with enough money that I can splash out occasionally on my one real addiction: books. Not only that but I can get books for free, as a perk. But anyway, back to today. I wandered off in my lunch hour to Waterstones (the one on the corner of the Strand) and after spending my money, I walked out into brilliant sunshine. The sky was the most glorious shade of blue, fluffy clouds scudding along in the wind. And I looked up and noticed the view. Right across Trafalgar Square to the National Gallery, with the fountains sprinkling away merrily. It was at this moment that I realised just how much I have to be thankful for.

I have a job. I have my health. I have a flat that I bought. I have a family I love and cherish above everything else. And I have the most amazing and wonderful collection of friends. Friends who have supported me through some very difficult times, who have laughed with me, who have cried with me, who have bucked me up when I've needed it and for whom I would do all that and more. Wow.

Now that's a positive and a half. Gush mode: off.

Oooh, music!

2006-01-09T17:37:00.000Z

Yes, the MP3 revolution has arrived chez Kats, in the utterly gorgeous form of the new Sony MP3 Walkman. Mine is a gorgeous blue colour and is just completely ruddy brilliant.

And I am terrifyingly giddy about it. I spent the entire weekend ripping cds to upload to it, then an entire night trying (mostly successfully) to get it to transfer the tracks over. And today I have spent ages fannying about with it, as one does with shiny new toys.

What's made me more excited is the fact that I might actually listen to all those good albums I'd forgotten I had, and the fact that I can have a huge variety of music without having to lug about a hundredweight of cds. *whoops for joy*

Never again will I have to run around to try and find something to suit my mood when the noisy bint upstairs decides to go crazy with one of her 'gentlemen callers.' (Actually that's generally fairly easy, it needs to be loud, but not something that will incite me to a homicidal rage at the prospect of yet another sleepless night of hearing the Yorkshire terrier on speed routine - so no Pantera - and definitely no Celine Dion).

So a very very big thank you to my family for this, it's everything I wanted and more. Yay for Christmas pressies!

Aaaah, the weekend.

2005-10-30T17:36:00.000Z

After my week of Travel Guide Hell, it's nice to have a time when you don't have to do anything at all. Well, except watch thoroughly silly films on the telly and catch up with the latest goings-on in the Yorkshire Dales.

Yes, I have a shameful secret. I watch Emmerdale. Not much of a secret now though, but never mind. It's mindless, thoroughly mad and totally easy to watch. On a Sunday morning that's just what you want. I blame my mother though. She got me watching it. She blames Gwyn, cos he used to put it on when she got home from work. Whatever the reason, it's just fun. And there's not nearly enough of that these days.

Now I'm watching Jurassic Park II: The Lost World. Easily the worst of the trilogy, mainly because there's no Sam Neill in it. Though there is Jeff Goldblum, a slight consolation. There's also a very annoying man, playing a terribly terribly upper crust Englishman, presumably to balance out Pete Postlethwaite. Oh, and look, the horrid bad man is going off on his own - he couldn't have done better if he'd just painted a big sign on his back saying 'Dino Chow, come and get it!' Sheesh.

But anyway enough of the rambling... back to my week of fun. 133 discs copied - thank god some of the publishers could take DVD otherwise it would have been a lot, lot more. And 80 of those discs were done on Friday. A new personal best, though it's worrying me that a) I kept a note of how many I did and b) that I'm rating it as a new record, like it's an Olympic Sport or something. Mind you, I'd be gold medal material with figures like that.

I really need to get out more. A lot more.

The Librarian

2005-10-24T21:09:00.000+01:00

Quest for the Spear

Shown this evening on Sky One. And what an utter load of complete bilge it was.

Ok, I admit that I watched it all the way through, mainly due to Noah Wyle - though I have to confess that it's turned me right off him now. So he's supposed to be a librarian. Right.

I know librarians. I am one. I studied with them. And he's not one. Not even if you suspended your disbelief from the top of the Empire State Building. I mean, really. It's rubbish. Just act a little geeky, with no discernible social graces and you'll be about right. Oh and then play for laughs. Arrrgh.

Let's face it, this was a cut-rate Raiders of the Lost Ark. Not so much Indiana Jones, more West Midlands Jones.

Oh Kyle Maclachlan, what were you doing? Did you just need the money? Shocking, truly shocking how low one man can sink... And then of course, there's the obligatory girl-fight. yawn C'mon people, let's have some originality for a change. Please. Please make it stop. I'm not sure I could cope with the deadly Scorpion leader and the time travelling ninjas touted for the second episode.

Still, nice to see Bob Newhart doing his thang. He was by far the best thing about the whole shoddy mess. Even if he was playing a rather aged Marine. Bless him.

Monday morning non-blues

2005-10-24T17:28:00.000+01:00

Yes indeed, it's a Monday and I'm not feeling like I want to go on a hormonally induced homicidal rampage. Result!

Can't quite put my finger on why, though that maybe a good thing. Introspection is all very well, but there are times it doesn't actually help.

I think that, in the last couple of weeks, I've just come to certain realisations that I was shrinking from. Realising that people can sometimes be a bit rubbish, however much you'd wish it otherwise. That life isn't always fair (or more accurately, is nearly always UN-fair), and that however badly you think of yourself, none of your friends are thinking anything like that - and if they are, then they're certainly not the kind of people you should be surrounding yourself with.

All of this is fairly self-evident, or should be, but then your head sometimes just gets it all muddled around, so that you take on responsibility for other people's failings. Feeling bad when your friends have been let down is one thing - putting on a hair shirt and wailing 'Woe is me' is entirely another. (Of course, I'm speaking metaphorically here. I have never wailed 'Woe is me.' Ever.)

There's also that trick of allowing yourself to feel hopeful - something I forgot in the last few months. Allowing yourself to just sit back and enjoy what's happening now, instead of worrying about what might happen in a few day's time, or a few month's time or (more likely) not happen at all, you daft mare.

Still, it's nice to know that our IT department can reduce me to trembling rage by their sheer ineptitude. At least I'll always be able to rely on that.

I think I've heard (or read) it all now.

2005-09-29T17:27:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | England | Kent | Dinosaur eggs fail to reveal life

Well, really. I'd never have guessed. Maybe they've failed to reveal life precisely because they're dinosaur eggs. Prehistoric, like, you know.

Marvellous use of a scanner I must say, given the current parlous state of the NHS.

Sweary Mary, come on down!

2005-07-18T17:26:00.000+01:00

Oh, what a day it's been.

Not only have I been bombarded with emails, pretty much all asking for the same thing, and in the same vein, but I managed to get utterly behind with everything (due to puking up my guts on Thursday night, and being fairly grotty on Friday).

Anyhoo, to cut a long and fairly angry story short, I ended up wailing down the phone at someone in a desperate bid to find out just what the jeffing heck was going on. This was alternated with me shouting things like 'F**k, f**k, f**k W*NKCHOPS!' and so forth.

It was only after I replaced the receiver that I remembered that I work in an open plan office, and one of the blokes who works across the way was staring at me in a most dubious fashion. Oh dear.

Add to that the fact that I went up to one of my colleagues and asked 'Can you just make it stop, please? Now?' combined with a look of utter despair and I think you get the idea of how rubbish my working day has been.

And now I'm embarrassed. Really, really, face-like-suburned-lobster embarrassed.

Oh and mum, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. It'll never happen again. *uncrosses fingers*

Just to continue from the last post...

2005-06-06T16:13:00.000+01:00

my great-aunt died on 20th May, 4am - or thereabouts.

I'm just grateful that she's no longer in pain, she was so tired and she didn't really want to be here in the end. And I'm thankful that she had such a long and full life, if her knees hadn't given up on her (arthritis) I have no doubt at all she'd have been dancing still.

My brother is much better, in fact he's in France now, and from what I've been told is feeling great. Holidays do make a huge amount of difference. I think it's time I had one.

Gosh, long time no post...

2005-05-12T16:11:00.000+01:00

Well that's because life's been too busy kicking me in the heed, to quite honest.

The last week alone has brought so much grief it's almost unbelievable. My great-aunt is in hospital, and not expected to survive the week. My brother was also admitted to hospital (a different one, and the one which treated Gwyn so badly) with severe abdominal pain. Eventually, a scan revealed that it's a gall stone, which is a relief, as it's not as serious as we feared. That said, he's still in pain while they decide what to do.

And on Tuesday it would have been Mum and Gwyn's second wedding anniversary. Talk about things coming in threes. Normally it's stuff like breaking a nail, or dropping a cup. This is just taking the proverbial.

The preceding weeks haven't been too bad, only I've got more work than you can shake a cd at, and pretty much I've got to do it on my own. Marvellous. The sweet sound of progress. Or something.

Valentines, Schmalentines

2005-02-14T16:07:00.000Z

Praise the lord, Hallmark Day is here once again. And, as is the usual custom on these occasions, I am single. Again.

Whoo. I have to say that, up until this morning, I was managing to affect supreme indifference to the whole shebang. However, my hormones now have different ideas, so I've just had a mini-sob in the loo. (How terribly Bridget Jones-esque of me.)

It's better now than last year, when I was stuck in a freezing cold house in Wakefield, with a man who dumped me unceremoniously 2 months later, claiming, upon later questioning, that he'd had doubts since Valentine's Day about our suitability.

I know that, at the moment, I'm probably more susceptible to this kind of thing as I've got other things going on in my mind, that affect every part of life, but surely it's not too much to ask to meet a man who's not a lying, two-faced, scum-sucking weasel? Bitter? Me? Whatever gives you that impression?

I'm not even that bothered about not getting a card or anything, as I've never really had any. Well, apart from the one I got one year from my parents. Bless them.

Things I have learned this week.

2005-02-11T15:56:00.000Z

1. If you are a balding, portly, male clerical worker in your mid to late thirties, do not buy a leather trenchcoat. It will not make you look like Neo from the Matrix. It will, however, make you look like a balding, portly, male clerical worker in your mid to late thirties wearing an ill-fitting leather trenchcoat.

2. If you are crossing the road at the corner of Waterloo Bridge and Aldwych, at least one homicidal cyclist will attempt to mow you down. Even when the little man is green.

3. If you stay at work late, the fire alarm will go off just as you're getting ready to leave. And it won't be the announcement telling you to evacuate; instead 'The Voice' will politely request that you 'remain at your workplace while the fire is being investigated.' (Note to self: if it starts getting a bit warm, ignore this voice, instead listen to the little one in your head telling you to run for the hills)

4. It doesn't take much to cheer someone up. A kind word, an unexpected hug or even saying rude words can do it.

5. My mam is one of the most amazing and incredible people I know. She is going through the most unbearably sad time, yet she still takes the time to make sure I'm ok. She is dealing with all kinds of stresses and strains, and yet she can still manage to make me laugh like a drain. She's not just my mam, she's also my best mate and I am incredibly proud of her. And when (if) I grow up, I want to be just like her.

Strictly speaking, the last two are something I've known for a while, but it's about time I actually put them into writing.

Rant alert, rant alert, awooga, awooga.

2005-01-27T15:45:00.000Z

Yes, I'm pissed off. Really quite dreadfully pissed off.

And what's caused my pissed-offness? Being told, by someone who should know far better, 'do try and soldier on.'

This was in response to me saying that I felt tired and weary and a bit blue.

I'm sorry, but 'soldier on.'?!? When did I ever say I was giving up? When? Never, that's when. I'm not a quitter and I don't give up (well not unless it's a REALLY difficult crossword) but jeebus, I really feel that I have a right to feel a bit fed up.

It's not quite two months since Gwyn died. (For those not in the know, Gwyn was my very very lovely stepdad - my second dad, in fact.) You don't just snap out of it. It hurts, it hurts all the time. There's someone in my life, someone very special who I'm never ever going to see again. I'm never going to hear him tell me that he thinks of me as his own daughter. I'm never going to hear him tell me that I'm special to him. I'm never going to get the chance to tell him just how much I love him. And it hurts. So much that I can't even begin to put it into words. Now, I pride myself on being fairly good at expressing myself, especially in writing, so the fact that I can't explain how I feel at the moment is frankly terrifying.

There's not a moment goes by that I don't think of Gwyn. That I don't think of my dad. That I don't wish that I could find something that would take my mum's pain away. But there's nothing I, or anyone else, can do to change things. And I find that feeling of utter helplessness is almost impossible to cope with. But cope with it, I will.

I know people are trying to help, and I don't want them to have to walk on eggshells round me, but sometimes it's really upsetting. A very good friend of mine said yesterday that I'm far too hard on myself. And she's right. I expect things of myself that I wouldn't ask of anyone else in a million years. And then berate myself for failing.

I'm rambling now, I know, but I don't care. There's far too much 'stuff' flying around in my head at the moment and it's time to get some of it out. Before I go completely bonkers.

Oh what a beautiful moooorrrning...

2005-01-19T15:42:00.000Z

I wasn't at my desk this morning. I was being trained. Sadly, not to balance a ball on the tip of my nose, or even to do formation riding of tiny motorcycles, but to use an operating system that I've had for the last 3 months. Great, thanks so much for that. Excuse me while I prostrate myself at your feet with gratitude.

I realise that I do sound a completely ungrateful wench, but the company I work for pride themselves on providing training to the appropriate people at the appropriate time. So, three months ago it would have been rather useful. Having said that, it's taken weeks and weeks of ranting, whining, threatening and cajoling to get our IT support people to even admit that we need better equipment. Now it's just the small task of actually getting it. Supposedly, according to a meeting last week it would be 'within the next fortnight.' Oh look, it's a flock of pigs, wheeling majestically past the London Eye.

Still, it wasn't all a waste of time, I learned a couple of shortcuts. \o/

It's Monday, it's ten to two, it's...

2005-01-17T13:50:00.000Z

time for another post.

What a start to my week, fourteen emails from a rather odd Estonian publisher, three requests for books we don't have and assorted silliness elsewhere.

In case you're wondering about the books thing, yes, I am a qualified librarian (00.4332 Licensed to Shush) and I work for an international publisher, running the digital text archive. All of which sounds tremendously exciting, until you realise it's actually just messing about with computers and copying stuff. (Yes, there's quite a bit more to it, but you get the idea here)

I'm feeling not too bad this morning, despite having sore eyes. And a sniffly nose. The weekend was fairly good, out Saturday night, meeting friends, drinking and talking a right load of rubbish (as you do.) Sunday was spent in quiet contemplation and a frenzy of sorting-out and tidying. I think sleep deprivation had quite a bit to do with it, as I'd been left traumatised the night before by my upstairs neighbour's nocturnal activities. No, I really don't want to hear them 'at it', especially as, at the crucial moment, she sounds worryingly like a Yorkshire terrier on speed. Nor do I wish you to damage my ceilings any more than they already have been - at one point I thought they would be coming through the floor. Quite literally. Eww.

TFI Friday

2005-01-14T15:37:00.000Z

And how apt it is.

This week's been one I wouldn't want to repeat for all the tea in Betty's.

Thankfully, it's nearing the weekend, and I won't have to put up with it for much longer. I am sincerely hoping that next week at least contains a modicum of joy and/or fun. Though saying that, there's been the odd moment of smilingness this week, it's just that they were punctuated with huge swathes of gloom and misery. *note to self: don't even think about volunteering for the Samaritans

There's nothing hugely exciting to report at the moment, other than the fact that my stockings appear to have developed a mind of their own and are making a bid for freedom via my knees. Now there's an image to conjure with on a Friday afternoon.

As is the knowledge that Howard 'The Swan Botherer' Brown of Halifax ad fame is to record a single. As if it wasn't enough to see his grinning visage every time I walk past a branch of the Halifax, now my ears are to be assaulted as well. I'm almost angry enough to send a letter to the Daily Telegraph.

Hello!

2005-01-12T15:33:00.000Z

Just a very brief post to usher in the new blog.

Ooh, I do like a nice blogging of a Wednesday afternoon. Sadly I now have to go and attend a meeting, during which I predict I will say precisely three words, one of which may be 'off'.

TTFN!