| Date: | 2009-08-23 21:17 |
| Subject: | Anniversary... |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: |  happy |
After telling R for the last few weeks that I'm taking him for fish and chips in Blackbird Leyes for our 3 year anniversary... I took him to the seaside instead. R and I spent yesterday and today in Weymouth, playing on the beach, eating fish and chips, staying in a nice B&B on the Esplanade and going to a Sea Life sanctuary.
All in all, t'was rather awesome. Even if it did go rather above what I should have spent considering the work on Shortypants Manor Rose Cottage.
I'm happy now :). Or at least until I look at my bank account ;)
( And the obligatory picture! )
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I have a video of the house so that all you lovely people in LJ land can actually see it! However, it's large and 15 minutes long, which means it's too long for YouTube (and has a 6 hour upload time).
What's the best way/place to put a video so I can link people to it?
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| Date: | 2009-07-18 09:40 |
| Subject: | Spending Spree |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: |  bouncy |
Yesterday I spent £150,000.
I may have been a little extravagent ;).
Still, on the plus side, I do now own a house wreck.
Proper write up of the rest of the process and a video to follow, most likely tomorrow...
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I'm currently listening to Jeff Wayne's "War of the Worlds". For those not in the know, it's a musical radio adaptation of an HG Wells book based on a martian invasion, narrated by Richard Burton. I first heard it when I was about four years old.
It terrified me.
A story of mass death and destruction, much of it in London and just outside in the South where I lived, through places I had enough knowledge to know I'd been to, told by a man with an accent akin to my grandfather who I loved. I remember clearly sitting on the floor, my hands clamped over my ears to try and block it out, tears running down my face, shaking uncontrollably. Of course, my sister, being like every big sister at that point when confronted by the obvious weakness and fear in a small sibling, decided this was her Favourite Albumn Ever, and used to request to listen to it in the car all the time when I couldn't escape from it. Which my parents happily complied with, not being aware of how frightened and sick I really was.
As a small child because of this I was terrified of aliens. Darkness, ghosts, monsters; anything else I could handle. But I would have screaming nightmares about metal monstrosities from the stars coming down and ripping people to shreds, draining their bood with humanity helpless to do anything. This was not helped by a television programme when I was six that grandly claimed that the Mayan Gods were really aliens, and according to their calendar they would come back December 2011. I remember going and throwing up afterwards. For years as a child I had a fatalistic acceptance that I was going to die at the age of 33 in terror and pain when they came back: I didn't even question it.
For a long time I avoided listening to The War of the Worlds, leaving the room when anything came on even vaguely related. Then, when I was about 17, I realised this was incredibly stupid and resolved to face my fears. So I hauled it out of my parents' record collection and listened to it back to back about five times in a row as aversion therapy. I just about managed, although I felt completely sick and drained at the end.
The thing is, because I had such a strong emotional reaction to it for such a long time, those feelings are even now hardwired in. I can't just listen to it any time I feel like it because I get all the same responses I did as a small child. My heart thumps in time with the beat as the martians land in Horsell Common, and I find it hard to breathe. The brave, last, doomed stand of the Thunderchild makes me want to cry with despair at the loss of hope, tears burning in my eyes. The madness of the artillary man is heart breaking. I feel sick as the journalist walks through a dead London. As you can imagine, the whole thing is a bit harrowing, even now. The only difference between me and that small four year old is that whilst I feel the same fear, I don't get the same paralysing terror; the grown up has the courage to fight back.
So sometimes I listen to it. It's not easy, but it's intense. And afterwards, I go and eat a lot of chocolate.
A word to the wise though: if you have children and live in or near South London, don't put it on until they are at least about 8!
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| Date: | 2009-06-24 12:55 |
| Subject: | Skype |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | cheerful |
In an attempt to try and lessen my phonebill to my parents as they live in another country, I've bought myself a decent webcam and installed Skype. Apparently this will give me free video calls to other Skype users over the web. I've not fathomed it all out yet as I haven't made a video call, and I'm having to convince my mother that she wants to install it as well which isn't the easiest thing in the world, but I live in hope. Plus, when Mssr ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) chrisvenus heads off for his jaunt, we'll probably be able to use it to chat, too.
Then it occurred to me that some of you lot out there in LJ land have probably had it for years. Years and years. Sooo....
I've got my profile open*, and you can search for me by my real name and I should appear. I'm the only one of me on there due to the unusual name combination, and I'd be pleased to talk to any of you. Failing that, tell me who you are on Skype and I'll add you :).
Also, any advice on using Skype and things I need to do/avoid?
---
*I think
Edit: Eeek! Didn't realise it had an instant messenger service! I've just signed out now as it's against work policy so sorry if I turned anyone off. I'll be back after 6.30pm...
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| Date: | 2009-06-21 22:15 |
| Subject: | Supernatural |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: |  enthralled |
Oh. Good. God. (Or not, as the case my be).
Just seen the end of series 4.
How long until series 5?!?!?!?
*whimpers in a small corner*
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... Can anyone recommend a solicitor's in Oxford who deal with house buying?
I will be getting recommendations today from the Estate Agents, but personal recommendations carry a bit more weight with me (I'll be phoning a number at lunchtime to get quotes etc).
So, anyone?
12 comments | post a comment
Pilfered link from hungry_pixel's journal...
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/lovecraftian_school_board_member?utm_source=a-section
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| Date: | 2009-02-25 16:43 |
| Subject: | Deprivation |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | optimistic |
You know, many things have happened lately. Great hen nights. Trips to Basel. A wonderful wedding where I was a bridesmaid (*squeak*!). New and exciting experiments in make-up have been happening, to the point where I bought a book and now own blusher no less. I know, I know. I even went to Coventry yesterday for a pancake party hosted by davefish and keris. It's all been very exciting.
Still, in order to make my life less interesting, I've decided to evilly torture myself. For Lent, I'm giving up.... alcohol, chocolate, ice cream and crisps. Not one vice but four!
No wine and chocolate. I'm not sure life'll be worth living*.
Still, it means that Easter Weekend is going to Rock ;)!
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*You might be taking your life into your hands if you come near me smelling of chocolate. Mmmmmmm... chocolate people...
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I have a confession. I really, really, really miss roleplaying.
It all tailed off dramatically after the end of the old WoD when the games I loved ended, and was cemented when I acquired a live in, non-roleplaying partner in Oxford when the remaining games I played in were in London. After all, it was costing over £20 for a round trip to any game, would take at least 4 hours out my day to drive to/from it, and was usually on a weekend when my Shiny New Other Half wanted us to spend time together. So it trailed off. After all, that 4 hours and £20 could be used in much more exciting ways...
However, the lack of roleplaying's been an itch, and it's been growing more and more, especially now Russell and I are living apart, and he's spending half his week in Cheltenham. I have free evenings now. I have motivation. And I really want to play again.
And this time, I have resolved to do something about it, rather than whinge!
So this is the point of the LJ is to seek out roleplaying! Ideally, I was thinking I'd like to play in a table top and a live game...
Table Top
Location: Preferably within 20 miles of Oxford for an evening game, but would consider further afield if it was at a weekend and had the option of crash space some of the time.
Style: Any!
Would anyone be willing to run something - I'm sure there are other people who'd like to play at the moment?
What games are running at the moment which could take another player?
If I decided to run something (most likey for sheer lack of anything else tbh) who would be willing play?
Live Action
Location: Preferably within 20 miles of Oxford but would consider further afield as long as it wasn't more than one weekend a month as my other half would get grumpy.
Style: Any considered, although will go more for a character freeform style (think Garou or Star Wars).
What games are running at the moment - what style, system - that could take another player?
Who plays in them? Do I know them?
Can you suggest a character with links to other PCs that I could play as I don't know a lot of systems well, especially NuWod?
What you get in return:
I promise I'm housetrained, well behaved (most of the time), can be introduced to parents, and whilst I'm all about the characters I can play in less intense games happily without taking it too seriously (just look at the Occasional Final Fantasy Game!).
Other Potential Players: Pimp Yourselves Here!
Also, please feel free to drop a comment if you're in the Oxford area, and would like to play in a Table Top game at the moment. It would be useful if you put in the days you have available during the week so we can co-ordinate if there would be a possibility of putting something together. That way if new games are being considered, it makes it easy for a GM to find willing players...
All suggestions and offers seriously considered!
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Now, as I mentioned in my previous post, I went to the gym this morning. This involved me staggering about at 6am throwing things into a bag to wear later, fumbling in my gym clothes. Now, I didn't look out the window, nor did I have the radio on. The clothing I chose for today in my sleepy state was not necessarily the most sensible choice. Stylish, but impractical. Especially considering I had forgotten to put in any tights whatsoever, and had a floaty skirt with high heels. I put them on after my shower in the changing room and grimaced.
And so this morning I have been shivering. A lot. Our office is just about managing to stay above the legal limit, but nowhere is warmer than 17 degrees. Jo, our office manager, has been nipping about with a thermometer to check. About half an hour, I remembered I'd left some other clean clothes in the car randomly. Including things which would warm my legs, but were not exactly work like.
I shivered. I persevered. And then I cracked.
Take a minute, if you will, to consider the image I now present. I am wearing deep red fitted jersey top over a knee-length floaty chocolate brown skirt. I have a patterned brown silk scarf around my neck, just so, and my hair piled up on my head with a clip. I have 3 1/2 inch elegant high heels in brown.
And the final peice of the colour co-ordinated ensemble?
Over the knee pink and white striped socks with Piglet (from Winnie the Pooh) cavorting on them. I had Operations in hysterics when I walked back in, my lips blue from the cold.
Oh hell. At least I have warm legs!
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Yep, there's snow in Oxfordshire, blanketing the city and the fields in a shimmering white cloak, and it's still falling.
Yep, it's beautiful.
Yep, it's damned cold, icy and somewhat treacherous out there on the roads.
Nope, I did not get a snow day. Infact, I went to the gym this morning and was there at 6.30am, and was in work by 8.15am. And if I had stayed at home, I'd be expected to work what with having a Blackberry, work laptop and remote access to the servers.
*snork*
Slackers!
{Please note, I may just be jealous of all the people with a legitmate excuse to stay home and play in the snow :)!}
*
In a related note and slightly more seriously, the conditions are a bit worrying. I'm supposed to be driving up to Rotherham near Sheffield tonight after work to meet some customers for dinner, and then run a training day up there tomorrow. I'm not sure if driving 150 miles tonight up the M40/M1 is actually a sensible plan considering the snow is worse on the east side of the country, plus it takes over 2 hours at the best of times, this will probably be double.
Still, we'll see. I'm negotiating with the relevant territory manager that if the snow hasn't stopped by 2pm he's going to phone the customers and we'll rearrange. I have my fingers crossed!
Do you know the whole of Oxfordshire owns precisely 2 gritters? It certainly explains why only the A34 and the ringroad ever seem to get done!
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| Date: | 2009-01-27 22:31 |
| Subject: | Goa! |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | content |
{Written in January, to be backdated as appropriate later}
"Quisalan..."
"Hmmm?"
"You never actually wrote an account of your holiday in Goa two months ago. I actually thought you might do that one, being a globe-trotting travel fiend with months and months devoted to other continents."
"I'm also a work-logged marketeer whose moved house after a busy Christmas and then had quarterly meetings and multiple hen nights."
"Damn it, woman, get on with India!"
*
India is country with a thousand images and and a thousand faces, from the Taj Mahal to the Bollywood film industry. Beloved by backpackers and people off to "find themselves", loathed by many others for the sheer vast numbers of people exploding from the cities, outsourced call centres and dire tales of food poisoning, it's a place I've never visited. I've always been curious about India; my great great grandfather was part of the East India Company, to the point something I've inherited from my Grandmother has been a huge 150 or so year old wooden sea chest with metal hinges that hides under the stairs, and looks far too much like a treasure chest to ever be safe from mauraduing pirates. My aunt Sarah had a love for the place and used to spend months and months there, even converting to Buddism and often wearing a sari, naming my cousin 'Melika', which means 'Princess' in an Indian dialect. My sister got married on a beach in Goa, and fell in love with the place enough that when she and the brother in law spent a year sailing around Asia they spent a lot of time hanging about Indian beaches[1]. I had plans to go and see them several times but they never happened for various reasons. And of course, there are the rumours in my family of an Indian Princess due to a little East India Company extra-curricular activities.
I guess it was, at some point, inevitable, especially once an unexpected bonus from work landed on my desk which covered both R and myself for tickets and expenses. After all, all it takes is a few clicks on a website to look for flights and accidentally book them... Why Goa in particular? Mainly, because my sister got married there. But it's also the Jamaica of India because until the 1960s the small state the size of Devon was owned by the Portugese giving it a unique chilled out ambiance, a large amount of tolerance for Europeans and some killer curries.
*
( Tales of Travelling in Goa, with assorted Elephants, death-trap motorbikes, Waterfall, jungle-claimed castles, monkies, beaches, and a whole lot of cocktails (warning: comes with pictures)... )
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[1] For those not in the know, my sister and B-i-L decided to spend 18 months backpacking, and left at the end of 2006. They started this, but before they actually left Asia to head onto New Zealand after about 8 months, and decided to buy a boat instead and spend the time sailing about Asian countries. They are unreasonably amused when people are impressed they own a yacht. In their view, they are "water pikeys" with a sea-faring caravan.
[2] The head wobble: Indian body language that conveys good wishes, inoffensiveness, politeness and often agreement in a similar way to a smile. It's hard to do though! It can also be confusing, as sometimes people wobble their heads in an almost shaking movement, so someone will be saying yes, but it looks a bit like they're saying no...
[3]"Ah ha! A sea chair!"
[4] Like the bible, but with better practical advice and less brimstone.
[5] If anyone but annwfyn and possibly chrisvenus gets that I'll be shocked!
[6] Around £20. For comparison, we would barter on jewellery even if the start price was £1, and for a big evening meal with alcohol it was around £5 each...
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I went out on the second of Leanne's Hen Nights this weekend, and it was fab. However, my favourite photo of the day wasn't part of the plan made with miliary precision. Nope. It was when we came across some Stormtroopers, Darth Vader and a couple of Imperial Scouts just hanging about near Leicester Square. I reckon they were checking out the Haagen Daas ;).
( Photo Goes Here! )
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http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/7824386.stm
For all you struggling writers out there... 6 months on a Paradise tropical island, writing a blog, for £70k.
I want it! :D
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I thought I'd change the mood here slightly.
This lunchtime, people at my work were treated to a rather surprising sight. Two of the respected management team leaning over a table and giggling, covered in icing sugar. Y'see, Ruth decorates cakes as a hobby. I'd been bewailing my lack of ability and worry I'd ruin my Christmas cake. From those humble beginnings came a plan... and that plan was to give me a decoration lesson in the work canteen, shanghai'ing one of the tables to be a work surface.
( Cake Underneath! )
I haven't had a chance to paint the little marzipan figures yet that I made a week ago, which is why they are very dull comparatively. The cake is currently in the spare patient room downstairs where it's hiding from the very real possibility of a severe munching by fruitcake-mad thieves.
It's so heavy though! It seems to weigh more than an equivalent-sized lump of lead, and the smell of brandy can hit you at 20 paces...
It'll get cut up on Christmas eve. One quarter goes to my sister who I'm going to see that night, one quarter to my Mummy, and half stays in the house for the Christmas I'm hosting for R's family and various guests (if it's nice).
Cake!
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I will be writing my Christmas Cards over the next day or two, because I really should get them out this week!
If your address has changed since here, please comment and I will change the address. If you'd like a card and didn't comment last year*, pop me a comment** here too and I shall send you one :).
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* wheezambu, fenikkusuken and sherbetsaucers, I'm looking at you for a start...
**All comments are screened so you won't get weird stalkers. Well, weirder than me, anyway.
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On Monday when I bought 'Twilight', I also bought a second book called 'Affinity Bridge' by George Mann, a Victorian Steampunk detective story. I've only read a 100 pages or so of it*, but it's been amusing me far more than a bad Vampire Mary-Sue.
I think the point I decided that most of my friends list would like it and that I'd mention it was when the terribly English detectives ended up the workshop where they made brass 'automotons' to pilot Zepplins, which were powered by springs, programmed through punch-cards, and had a head full of cogs.
The only thing is, the two detectives are Sir Maurice Newbury who works part time at the British Museum, and Miss Veronica Hobbs, his assistant. I can't get over the image of them as RP characters, as played by davedevil and ksirafai!
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*So if it becomes awful later, I take no responsibility!
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Monday night, I was in London City Airport waiting to catch a flight, and spotted 'Twilight', of which there has been much hype and screaming teenage girlies. And so I bought it, and read it that evening since I had nothing else to do in Basel.
( Very short comments, but spoilery )
If anyone wants it out of curiosity, please feel free to shout on the comments below and I'll pass it on.
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*Mary Sue - a fanfic term where it basically fulfills the authors own spank fantasies, and the main character is what the author would like to be, with all of the devastatingly attractive other characters falling over themselves to be with them. Anne MacCafrey is another guilty one here.
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I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone's kind comments over the last week, and a special mention to sherbetsaucers who tried to catch me on MSN multiple times, every time I was about to log off.
The funeral was yesterday and went as well as these things can. It was nice, appropriate to her, and everyone's memories worked well together to give a good (if slightly sympathetic) overview of a truly fiesty, opinionated, independent and strong woman. I sang Judy Garlands' "Smile", although it was pretty wobbly in places, and I had to turn around to look at the coffin as looking at everyone else made me well up. There was lunch in the Hilton, R and I popped up to Victoria and picked up our visas afterwards, and in the evening the family had Indonesian together at a local resturant here in Dorking.
I felt a lot better after the funeral - it doesn't mean I'm not going to miss her desperately at points, but I haven't got the same gut wrenching feeling I've had all week, where it's been all I've thought about.
And today, R and I are going to Gatwick, getting on a plane, and going to a place of hot weather, beaches, Indian ruins, artisans, and general holidayness: I finally get to go to Goa after wanting to go for _years_. We're leaving the car at Mum and Dad's flat in Redhill (which they now don't really need as it was the base to visit Grandma), who are then dropping us at the airport to avoid the horrendous car park charges.
Eeeee! Holiday!
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curious
thoughtful
Unimpressed
awake