There was a horrible accident on the way to work this morning. On the opposite side of the dual carriageway, a lorry was turned on its side. The traffic was stacked back on that side, police having stopped the cars, and on the side I was travelling on, the traffic was stacked back due to the rubberneckers. Nothing to see here, move along.
Work is work is work. Despite not arriving as early as I'd have liked, I left early because I had an appointment with spotty Ryan at the gym. He's re-programmed me. Now I have to make sure I go to the gym two or three times a week. I am hoping that upping my exercise will help me shift some of the excess weight I'm carrying around, but I'm also aware that already my energy levels have increased, and even though my legs ache I don't feel too tired. I was pleased to get out of there early today. I've got so much to do, I'm feeling crushed under the weight of it all.
In other news, there is no news. Isa's out tonight, and last night I was antisocial and crashed in bed. I was planning on making up for it tonight, but instead, I'll chill out with DVDs and cups of tea on the sofa. Really I should actually write something, but I feel that 9pm is a bit too late to feel the creative urge. Maybe I'm wrong.
Wednesday, 28 February 2007
Woohoo!
Dear Gemma
Thank you for registering for Glastonbury 2007.
Your registration number is xxxxxx. This email does not constitute acceptance of your photograph. Photographs will be checked manually and you will be contacted again if you are required to re-register with a better image.
Please remember that registration DOES NOT reserve or guarantee you a ticket and you will still need to revisit the site on 1st April with your registration number to purchase tickets.
You may edit your registration details and view your photograph at www.glastonburyregistration.co.uk.
Don't forget - tickets go on sale 1st April 2007!
Regards,
Glastonbury 2007
Thank you for registering for Glastonbury 2007.
Your registration number is xxxxxx. This email does not constitute acceptance of your photograph. Photographs will be checked manually and you will be contacted again if you are required to re-register with a better image.
Please remember that registration DOES NOT reserve or guarantee you a ticket and you will still need to revisit the site on 1st April with your registration number to purchase tickets.
You may edit your registration details and view your photograph at www.glastonburyregistration.co.uk.
Don't forget - tickets go on sale 1st April 2007!
Regards,
Glastonbury 2007
Tuesday, 27 February 2007
Going Home by Harriet Evans
This is my favourite book in the world at the moment. I don't know why, to be honest, and it got a couple of savage reviews on Amazon, but it's just... wonderful. I love the way Harriet Evans writes, I love that the main character Lizzie is so believable. She could be one of my friends, the way her voice leaps out of the page is so real. Okay, so she has an impossibly glamorous job, and she owns her own central London flat, but that can be forgiven as standard chick-lit stuff. The house in this book is almost a character in its own right, despite the fact that we're never even told where it's located. And the Walter family history is important and relevant without it ever straying into aga-saga territory. I've read this book about four times since June of last year, that's how much I love it, and I've lent it to loads of people - although no one else seems to love it as much as I do, which is a shame. And even though Harriet Evans is a Proper Trade Publisher, I can forgive her for having my dream job, because she's obviously brilliant. This book introduced me to the idea of pasta, butter and marmite (with a large glass of red wine). I can highly recommend it, if you've never tried it. Tasty.
Long long days
Yesterday's trip to London was like the longest day EVER. I left the house at 7am and returned at 8pm. In combination with a day spent trooping round KCL Theology department in what felt like ever-decreasing circles, or when it got more surreal as I got more frazzled, an Escher painting of endless staircases going nowhere, by the time I got home I was knackered. However, the visit itself was really interesting, and even though I'd been slightly dreading it (a whole day with only my boss for company, meeting a load of weird academics), I came out feeling really elated. It was quite intense, but visiting Kings after a few years was both nostalgic but also brilliant, and as always when I visit London, I treated myself: two posh lattes, and I bought my dinner on the hoof from M&S Simply Food in Victoria, so I felt like a frazzled commuter through and through.
Then back at work today, and everything is as normal. Except that (oooh, get me), I went to the gym after work to be re-programmed (to like exercise). And I was just working hard. Actually, I'm glad I exercised, I feel full of beans now, even though I can tell that I'm tired; this morning, getting up was HARD.
Hmm, this is turning into a bit of a boring blog. I don't mean for it to be, but you know, the weekend visit home, plus London means that I've been a bit too busy for anything truly blog-worthy, like novel-writing, or thinking deep Lent thoughts. However, no crisps or chocolate have passed my lips, and no magazines have passed my eyes, since last Tuesday.
Actually, there's one lovely thing I can write about: the baptisms on Sunday night at church. They came round really fast, there's not usually only a month between baptisms, but I suppose demand is high. Anyway, there were some fantastic testimonies; in fact, as Helen said, it's our privilege to hear those testimonies as a church family. One girl said that she had been putting off getting baptised, but that at the last service, there was a call not to be afraid, and she realised she was putting it off through fear. I'll admit that that made me cry - because that was my call! Don't be afraid was the theme of my testimony! How amazing is that? To have never met this person, but to have touched them and inspired them... wowee!! And what an encouragement from God to hear that!
Well, it's an early night, cup of tea and bed for me now, I think. I changed my bedsheets (not a regular enough occurrence, I am ashamed to say) and they are so lovely smelling now!
Then back at work today, and everything is as normal. Except that (oooh, get me), I went to the gym after work to be re-programmed (to like exercise). And I was just working hard. Actually, I'm glad I exercised, I feel full of beans now, even though I can tell that I'm tired; this morning, getting up was HARD.
Hmm, this is turning into a bit of a boring blog. I don't mean for it to be, but you know, the weekend visit home, plus London means that I've been a bit too busy for anything truly blog-worthy, like novel-writing, or thinking deep Lent thoughts. However, no crisps or chocolate have passed my lips, and no magazines have passed my eyes, since last Tuesday.
Actually, there's one lovely thing I can write about: the baptisms on Sunday night at church. They came round really fast, there's not usually only a month between baptisms, but I suppose demand is high. Anyway, there were some fantastic testimonies; in fact, as Helen said, it's our privilege to hear those testimonies as a church family. One girl said that she had been putting off getting baptised, but that at the last service, there was a call not to be afraid, and she realised she was putting it off through fear. I'll admit that that made me cry - because that was my call! Don't be afraid was the theme of my testimony! How amazing is that? To have never met this person, but to have touched them and inspired them... wowee!! And what an encouragement from God to hear that!
Well, it's an early night, cup of tea and bed for me now, I think. I changed my bedsheets (not a regular enough occurrence, I am ashamed to say) and they are so lovely smelling now!
Sunday, 25 February 2007
Speeding ticket
Speeding ticket
I didn't get a speeding ticket. A got a letter notifying me that I was indeed caught on camera, going at 36 miles an hour on a 30 mile an hour road. In combination with the world's most expensive car service, a mobile phone bill that's been mucked up now 4 times, and a payslip that didn't quite deliver, practical finances are now my least favourite thing in the world.
Ah well, could be worse. I could have to get up at 6am to get to London tomorrow... oh no, that is what I'm doing!
There's loads more I want to say, church was good this evening - another baptism - and I'm in the house all alone, which is weird. But sadly, I really have to go to sleep. Of course, I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to get to sleep which will probably lead to insomnia...
I didn't get a speeding ticket. A got a letter notifying me that I was indeed caught on camera, going at 36 miles an hour on a 30 mile an hour road. In combination with the world's most expensive car service, a mobile phone bill that's been mucked up now 4 times, and a payslip that didn't quite deliver, practical finances are now my least favourite thing in the world.
Ah well, could be worse. I could have to get up at 6am to get to London tomorrow... oh no, that is what I'm doing!
There's loads more I want to say, church was good this evening - another baptism - and I'm in the house all alone, which is weird. But sadly, I really have to go to sleep. Of course, I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to get to sleep which will probably lead to insomnia...
Saturday, 24 February 2007
Bad sister, bad driver
At home, which means, of course, being responsible, NOT drinking an entire bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to myself, ignoring the cheap Pinot Grigio Dad got me, and raiding the basket for doritos. Which don't count as crisps, because they are CORN. Hah!!
Bad sister: tried to persuade Barbara that I could sneak Matthew in to watch Hot Fuzz, since she suggested we go to the cinema this afternoon, and it seemed there was a poor choice but there was no way my twelve year old brother could pass for fifteen. I even rang Neil to enquire as to his opinion. So instead we saw School for Scandal. It was poor, but a diverting enough way to pass an evening. Then, once back, we watched the episode of Primeval recorded on the Sky box in about half an hour, because Matthew fast-forwarded through all the ad breaks, and all the suspenseful parts. Like Doctor Who, every character in peril was pronounced dead before the end of the episode. He hasn't yet got the concept of main characters in a series (especially a new series) being pretty much assured safe passage through anything.
I was trying to explain to Dad and Barbara that as much as I thought I wanted a new job, at the moment, I actually really like the job I have, that things are going well, that I like where I live... Barbara's saying "But what about the future" and while that's a good point (after all, stagnancy can lead to depression) actually, I have been thinking about my true ambitions. Why can't I write? What's stopping me, really? Ah, heavy stuff. What I guess I'm saying is YES, I do have to put work in now - but it should be work on my book. This time last year, I was so motivated.
Bad driver: got caught speeding! Letter at home!! Fine AND penalty points on my licence!! 36 miles an hour on a road a minute away from my house, which is a 30 mile an hour zone! Life is so unfair... also, this is going to probably up my insurance quote. Gnuh.
Bad sister: tried to persuade Barbara that I could sneak Matthew in to watch Hot Fuzz, since she suggested we go to the cinema this afternoon, and it seemed there was a poor choice but there was no way my twelve year old brother could pass for fifteen. I even rang Neil to enquire as to his opinion. So instead we saw School for Scandal. It was poor, but a diverting enough way to pass an evening. Then, once back, we watched the episode of Primeval recorded on the Sky box in about half an hour, because Matthew fast-forwarded through all the ad breaks, and all the suspenseful parts. Like Doctor Who, every character in peril was pronounced dead before the end of the episode. He hasn't yet got the concept of main characters in a series (especially a new series) being pretty much assured safe passage through anything.
I was trying to explain to Dad and Barbara that as much as I thought I wanted a new job, at the moment, I actually really like the job I have, that things are going well, that I like where I live... Barbara's saying "But what about the future" and while that's a good point (after all, stagnancy can lead to depression) actually, I have been thinking about my true ambitions. Why can't I write? What's stopping me, really? Ah, heavy stuff. What I guess I'm saying is YES, I do have to put work in now - but it should be work on my book. This time last year, I was so motivated.
Bad driver: got caught speeding! Letter at home!! Fine AND penalty points on my licence!! 36 miles an hour on a road a minute away from my house, which is a 30 mile an hour zone! Life is so unfair... also, this is going to probably up my insurance quote. Gnuh.
just a really Bad Person
And Charlie seems to think I am Daisy Steiner from Spaced, which would be flattering, were it not that Spaced is tres 1999, and that I think I am going to be sick.
Friday, 23 February 2007
Bad friend
Oh yes, and let's not forget:
The text from Bek I ignored, the text from Abby I ignored and the text from Lucy I ignored.
My Friday night has been mostly, in this order: wine, Spaced, pizza. To be honest, I wish I had a dealer, because I'd quite like to be really off my face right now. Shame I can't smoke, or take drugs, on principle. Ah, I hate principle.
As you might have guessed, I am now on my fourth glass of wine. Drunken blogging is so passe.
The text from Bek I ignored, the text from Abby I ignored and the text from Lucy I ignored.
My Friday night has been mostly, in this order: wine, Spaced, pizza. To be honest, I wish I had a dealer, because I'd quite like to be really off my face right now. Shame I can't smoke, or take drugs, on principle. Ah, I hate principle.
As you might have guessed, I am now on my fourth glass of wine. Drunken blogging is so passe.
The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
There isn't usually such a big gap between me reading a book and blogging about it. I read this last weekend. Now, the tedious story behind all this is that I thought I hadn't read it all the way through. It was a book on one of my MA courses at Southampton, three years ago (woah!) and I thought I shoudl at least try to finish it. So I got it out, and I pretty much realised as I got to the end, that I was reading it all the way through for the second time. But maybe that's because my memory is blighted by seminars, and confused by pencilled-underlinings of key quotations. Essay chunks. You know the stuff.It totally rocks. I read Never Let Me Go last year, and that was brilliant, and this is brilliant. Touching, speeds along, even though nothing much happens, KING of the flashback, without it seeming flashbacky. It occurs to me that he breaks all those rules that I keep on reading about; introduce the conflict on the first page, make sure your action keeps on moving forward. And that gave me real encouragement, because trying to write by numbers or formulae doesn't work for me. Not that I am anything compared to this guy, but you know what I mean. I suppose one thing that was missing was physical description of the protagonist and the love interest, but it didn't matter. Because I've been indoctrinated by Hollywood, I imagined Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thomson, but you could have imagined anyone. It is just so absorbing, so thoughtful, so wonderful.
Bad Christian, Bad Blogger, Bad Daughter
Well, firstly, I'm a bad Christian because I'm not going to my pastorate tonight for the second session running. I've got the house to myself tonight, and I want to make the most of it, as it's rare to know I'll be entirely alone for a whole day.
Secondly, I'm a bad blogger because I've not been updating what I'm reading, what I'm really doing, I've not been blogging my Lent Bible Study because I've not been doing it (see above), I've not been blogging my novel because I haven't been writing it, and since Neil told me off for blogging at work, all those little amusing escapades that might tickle me in the day don't get blogged. Like plans for a girls night in, with pyjamas, and sleeping over, and popcorn and stuff, with Charlie and Aileen, led to Charlie saying 'Let it all hang out... as long as you don't wear crotchless teddies or anything to bed' and me saying to Aileen 'I can't remember the last time I threw up from drinki- oh. Yes I can.'
Thirdly, I'm a bad daughter and granddaughter because my Nanna had to call me last night - I've only just recovered from the last weekend I went home, and now I realise I hadn't spoken to her for a fortnight and I think she was lonely because Merv was away in Rome. I was just really busy and distracted. And mostly out having fun. I'm a bad daughter because I'm off to Chandlers Ford tomorrow to babysit Matthew, and I'm basically going under sufferance, not because I want to go but because I feel I ought to go, and I am trying to do it with a cheerful heart, but instead I am doing it with a grumpiness.
Amy and Darren have been given an opportunity to buy their flat. Apart from the fact that that makes me one of the few non-owning people of my immediate colleagues, which is slightly depressing, I don't envy her. That flat would be too small, even for me on my own, but maybe I am spoilt and used to alot of space. But my house-buying dreams are back. I hate being single and thus (effectively) excluded from the housing marketing.
Today, Charlie at work said my novel-writing big advance dreams were like a "Becky Bloomwood fantasy" - and Aileen and I have been quoting Bridgetisms at each other all week. Surely my life can't be this over-run with chick lit? Surely there's more to my cultural refences than the most derided genre in the world today? But it would seem to be so. Alas.
Tonight! Pizza! Ugly Betty! More wine!!
Secondly, I'm a bad blogger because I've not been updating what I'm reading, what I'm really doing, I've not been blogging my Lent Bible Study because I've not been doing it (see above), I've not been blogging my novel because I haven't been writing it, and since Neil told me off for blogging at work, all those little amusing escapades that might tickle me in the day don't get blogged. Like plans for a girls night in, with pyjamas, and sleeping over, and popcorn and stuff, with Charlie and Aileen, led to Charlie saying 'Let it all hang out... as long as you don't wear crotchless teddies or anything to bed' and me saying to Aileen 'I can't remember the last time I threw up from drinki- oh. Yes I can.'
Thirdly, I'm a bad daughter and granddaughter because my Nanna had to call me last night - I've only just recovered from the last weekend I went home, and now I realise I hadn't spoken to her for a fortnight and I think she was lonely because Merv was away in Rome. I was just really busy and distracted. And mostly out having fun. I'm a bad daughter because I'm off to Chandlers Ford tomorrow to babysit Matthew, and I'm basically going under sufferance, not because I want to go but because I feel I ought to go, and I am trying to do it with a cheerful heart, but instead I am doing it with a grumpiness.
Amy and Darren have been given an opportunity to buy their flat. Apart from the fact that that makes me one of the few non-owning people of my immediate colleagues, which is slightly depressing, I don't envy her. That flat would be too small, even for me on my own, but maybe I am spoilt and used to alot of space. But my house-buying dreams are back. I hate being single and thus (effectively) excluded from the housing marketing.
Today, Charlie at work said my novel-writing big advance dreams were like a "Becky Bloomwood fantasy" - and Aileen and I have been quoting Bridgetisms at each other all week. Surely my life can't be this over-run with chick lit? Surely there's more to my cultural refences than the most derided genre in the world today? But it would seem to be so. Alas.
Tonight! Pizza! Ugly Betty! More wine!!
Thursday, 22 February 2007
Spaced
My new Spaced DVDs arrived. TEBWSNBNITB got most of the DVDs in the break up, but actually I recall that we borrowed Spaced from a girl on his course. Oh well, I have my own copies now. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. And my own life is so pathetic that I stayed in, drinking, alone, and watched the whole of the first series in a mad gorge.
Have replaced chocolate with wine, and now am forced to go to bed feeling a little grimy, a little fed up, and knowing that my blogging sucks. So much for blogging Lent and my Novel. More like blogging my boring boring boring self.
Oh yes, self-pity. That's attractive. So what DID I do today? Actually, today I had my car serviced, and it cost more than the difference in my pay packet due to promotion plus bonus was. Basically, my car cost me a bleedin' fortune. Aileen and Charlie were both hung over this morning due to last night, and I for once was not late for work, because I woke up early with a hangover. I did a handover (the two words easily interchanged actually) of an important book, which was nice, and my Nanna rang and asked reproachfully where I'd been. Um, catching up on my life since two weekends ago, when one Sunday in Chandlers Ford drained me of my life force and meant that the following two weeks were just a blur. Or similar.
My annoying colleague Matt has insulted me. I think he's an idiot. So my final words as I left the office were along the lines of "I hate you, you are sooooo annoying!" Machure.
Right, more Spaced calls. But now instead of wine, it's tea. And a nice nectarine. Have replaced chocolate with fruit.
Have replaced chocolate with wine, and now am forced to go to bed feeling a little grimy, a little fed up, and knowing that my blogging sucks. So much for blogging Lent and my Novel. More like blogging my boring boring boring self.
Oh yes, self-pity. That's attractive. So what DID I do today? Actually, today I had my car serviced, and it cost more than the difference in my pay packet due to promotion plus bonus was. Basically, my car cost me a bleedin' fortune. Aileen and Charlie were both hung over this morning due to last night, and I for once was not late for work, because I woke up early with a hangover. I did a handover (the two words easily interchanged actually) of an important book, which was nice, and my Nanna rang and asked reproachfully where I'd been. Um, catching up on my life since two weekends ago, when one Sunday in Chandlers Ford drained me of my life force and meant that the following two weeks were just a blur. Or similar.
My annoying colleague Matt has insulted me. I think he's an idiot. So my final words as I left the office were along the lines of "I hate you, you are sooooo annoying!" Machure.
Right, more Spaced calls. But now instead of wine, it's tea. And a nice nectarine. Have replaced chocolate with fruit.
Wednesday, 21 February 2007
Rubbish
Well, due to Charlie's dinner party, today I won't be blogging my Lent Bible Study or my Novel (tedious potboiler, as Matt calls it), because I am a tad worse for wear, and it's half past eleven, and really all I wanna do is take my make up off, brush my teeth, and read my book in bed. But here I am. Blogging. At 11.25pm, being slightly drunk. So slightly drunk that I found solace in the me:mo.org advert on the bus, and listened to Bic Runga, Swaying (pun intended) with dignity.
Today I have suffered some indignities. Firstly, I had my 'I'm not funny' conversation with several people, which culminated in Charlie telling me that I'm funny in emails, and Matt saying that if I want to be funny, I should come up with "If you want to be a big policeman in a small town, fuck off down the model village" which made me realise that everyone now has crushes on Simon Pegg, and alas, I will never be a stand up comedienne, meet the perfect man, and settle down and write sitcomes. Secondly, I can't remember that the most recent indignity was, but was probably part of my LONG and DRAWN OUT conversation with Wayne from Egg, as I sorted out closing my credit card account. Why yes, I am closing my credit card account. Don't be too impressed, it's just to stop me flippin' spending.
In Other News, I seem to have inadvertently invited The World and His Poddie round for dinner. Not to mention the fact I am now exceptionally jealous of Charlie's house. It's even lovelier than Pip's, although the advantage of Pip's is that she lives alone, Charlie's house has a wonky alcove and everything. Oh well. When it's time for me to have a gorgeous house... etc.
Right, I'd better get myself off to bed, since this semi-drunken rambling is not all that interesting.
Tomorrow, I promise, book reviews, back on track, blogging Lent, blogging The Novel, it should all be good.
Today I have suffered some indignities. Firstly, I had my 'I'm not funny' conversation with several people, which culminated in Charlie telling me that I'm funny in emails, and Matt saying that if I want to be funny, I should come up with "If you want to be a big policeman in a small town, fuck off down the model village" which made me realise that everyone now has crushes on Simon Pegg, and alas, I will never be a stand up comedienne, meet the perfect man, and settle down and write sitcomes. Secondly, I can't remember that the most recent indignity was, but was probably part of my LONG and DRAWN OUT conversation with Wayne from Egg, as I sorted out closing my credit card account. Why yes, I am closing my credit card account. Don't be too impressed, it's just to stop me flippin' spending.
In Other News, I seem to have inadvertently invited The World and His Poddie round for dinner. Not to mention the fact I am now exceptionally jealous of Charlie's house. It's even lovelier than Pip's, although the advantage of Pip's is that she lives alone, Charlie's house has a wonky alcove and everything. Oh well. When it's time for me to have a gorgeous house... etc.
Right, I'd better get myself off to bed, since this semi-drunken rambling is not all that interesting.
Tomorrow, I promise, book reviews, back on track, blogging Lent, blogging The Novel, it should all be good.
Tuesday, 20 February 2007
Shrove Tuesday!!
I am Miss Congeniality today (not), but despite my grumpiness, I am happy. Gave Emma a lift home, resisted her invitation to enjoy pancakes at her house and instead went to the offie, where I bought three bottles of red wine, the nastiest to take to dinner tomorrow, because I am fed up of taking nice wine places and not getting to drink it.
Tomorrow, Lent starts. I think I should make some Lent-olutions, so here they are, but some of them might be a bit boring.
1) decide on a Bible study for Lent and stick to it.
2) fast chocolate
3) fast magazines (buying AND reading, can read newspapers online, too)
4) blog my Bible study (sorry chaps)
5) blog my novel
Hoorah! Now, if you'll excuse me, I will return to my glass of Ruby Cabernet and my unprepared dinner.
Tomorrow, Lent starts. I think I should make some Lent-olutions, so here they are, but some of them might be a bit boring.
1) decide on a Bible study for Lent and stick to it.
2) fast chocolate
3) fast magazines (buying AND reading, can read newspapers online, too)
4) blog my Bible study (sorry chaps)
5) blog my novel
Hoorah! Now, if you'll excuse me, I will return to my glass of Ruby Cabernet and my unprepared dinner.
Monday, 19 February 2007
Fine fine fine (my body is a temple)
Neil is now REALLY concerned about me, so I promise not to blog at work any more. This is despite the fact that no one in my real life knows about this blog. *Le sigh*
Good news! I went to the gym after work, and went on the treadmill, on the bike and in the pool. Oh yes! Sadly, I didn't manage to do any of these things for any length of time, but there's no point starting off too heavy only to fail. With that in mind, I'm having my program re-drawn. Because I cannot (cannot) bear to do more than an hour in the gym after work. Those ten-fifteen minutes on the treadmills and bikes are the longest in my whole day. Longer even than waiting for a GT record to save, and that's saying something.
I'm investigating Google Docs, because I was wondering if it might help with the whole writing thing. Sadly enough, I doubt it. I was raring to go for a wee while, but then I came home, had my dinner, and then wanted a little rest. I should probably turn off Coronation Street that's on in the background, and actually write something. But that would be sensible, and I am SOOO not sensible.
Good news! I went to the gym after work, and went on the treadmill, on the bike and in the pool. Oh yes! Sadly, I didn't manage to do any of these things for any length of time, but there's no point starting off too heavy only to fail. With that in mind, I'm having my program re-drawn. Because I cannot (cannot) bear to do more than an hour in the gym after work. Those ten-fifteen minutes on the treadmills and bikes are the longest in my whole day. Longer even than waiting for a GT record to save, and that's saying something.
I'm investigating Google Docs, because I was wondering if it might help with the whole writing thing. Sadly enough, I doubt it. I was raring to go for a wee while, but then I came home, had my dinner, and then wanted a little rest. I should probably turn off Coronation Street that's on in the background, and actually write something. But that would be sensible, and I am SOOO not sensible.
GT just crashed, that's not a good sign
Nothing has made me more concerned than my dear brother's recent warning that he worries that I could cross the line between someone blogging about my job, and someone sacked for blogging about my job. Fair enough, says I, when I've been bitching about pay and the union and all that stuff. And also, fair enough, when I've been having easily interpretable dreams about my line manager (but they can't dismiss you for your subconscious, and interpretations are all subjective). But they could probably sack me for blogging at half four in the afternoon when GT has just crashed after a day of upset, intrigue and general bother with it. At least, from me.
GT-wise, calculation-wise, in fact, job-wise, today has NOT been a good day. Highlights of my day have been 1) getting two books back from Lorna that I had forgotten I'd lent her 2) talking to my Dad on my mobile phone at lunchtime (I am THAT much of a gimp, and often talking to him annoys me or upsets me, so it must have been a really low day) and 3)... well, to quote Richard Curtis, I can't think of a third. Oh, except maybe that I slept in, and therefore got to watch Frasier. Which did make me laugh. Ah! Here it is! I bought a load of stuff on Amazon to cheer myself up. Hah! And mostly from the marketplace, so it was quite cheap. Yay! Note that all those reasons are non-worky, in fact they are more friendsy than worky. But that is okay, we are supposed to like where we work, right? And what makes us like where we work is generally the peripheral stuff.
And with that, I am finishing two jobs and then going home. It's been a day and a half. And it's only Monday.
GT-wise, calculation-wise, in fact, job-wise, today has NOT been a good day. Highlights of my day have been 1) getting two books back from Lorna that I had forgotten I'd lent her 2) talking to my Dad on my mobile phone at lunchtime (I am THAT much of a gimp, and often talking to him annoys me or upsets me, so it must have been a really low day) and 3)... well, to quote Richard Curtis, I can't think of a third. Oh, except maybe that I slept in, and therefore got to watch Frasier. Which did make me laugh. Ah! Here it is! I bought a load of stuff on Amazon to cheer myself up. Hah! And mostly from the marketplace, so it was quite cheap. Yay! Note that all those reasons are non-worky, in fact they are more friendsy than worky. But that is okay, we are supposed to like where we work, right? And what makes us like where we work is generally the peripheral stuff.
And with that, I am finishing two jobs and then going home. It's been a day and a half. And it's only Monday.
Sunday, 18 February 2007
Here am I. Send me!
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"
And I said, "Here am I. Send me!" Isaiah 6.8
We had a really powerful service this evening at church. I enjoyed it, anyway, but there was a clear call, from the preaching, and the worship, asking us to step up as Christians in our land. It affected me, but I didn't step up. I don't know if I'm ready yet, to tell the truth. I want to say it, I want to say 'Here am I. Send me!' but something holds me back, probably a belief that I need to be a better Christian in the small ways before I can be in the 'big ways'. An explanation is probably needed. A while back, Emma said to me that she was challenged in her faith everyday, and recently I've recognise those challenges more and more. Paul tells us (in the passage we read tonight at church)
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. (Romans 12.2)That's what I need, to not conform to the patterns of this world. When I write blog posts about wishing I had a successful and wonderful boyfriend, when I obsess about clothes, when I obsess about my job (which is certainly something I've been doing this week), I'm conforming to the patterns of this world, which says that I should have a boyfriend, and that I should give myself to him, that I should dress myself up because appearances matter, that my job matters because of what other people think of me and what other people think of other people. This is what is the truth:
If God wants me to find a life partner, if he wants me to get married, he will send me someone to marry. The only person I need to worry about pleasing is God. I can do that by looking after my body, and showing it respect, by clothing myself with decorum, by doing my job to the best of my ability, because I'm an ambassador for God in the world, and I want people to recognise how great He is. It doesn't matter is my boss thinks someone else is better than I am. It matters that God knows that I am 'holy and pleasing' to him (the next part of that scripture).
God might not have sent me to the mission field in Africa, but believe me, the floor where I sit is a challenging mission field. There are people who I sit near crying out for the love of the Father, whose hearts are empty, whose brains are preoccupied with the patterns of this world. And somedays, I'm one of them. Somedays, all I think about is money and my own life, and my plans, and even though it was less than a month ago, I forget that I gave my life to Christ formally, in a service as serious and binding as a wedding. He's Lord of my life. Everytime I run off trying to make my life how I think it should be, he shows me that I am in the right place at the right time. God didn't say this, Lisa Loeb did, but I would do well to remember it: 'what you've got isn't what you wanted, what you need just happens to be.' I believed that before I was born again, and I still believe it.
It's hard not to feel guilty sometimes, about falling short. We all fall short, all the time - that's what 'to sin' means, the Biblical Greek is hamartia, which means 'missing the target'. But there's no condemnation when we live in Christ, he died to take away our sins. I don't need to feel guilty, I need to feel thankful. To confess and know that I'm forgiven? What a gift, what a blessing, what amazing grace.
Rewards
Word count: 1,440
Off to watch Ugly Betty (or just Betty as it's known in our house), a reward for my 1440 words written this afternoon! Hurrah! If I can write something every day this week, I might manage to get Chapter 1 done. Ambitions...
Off to watch Ugly Betty (or just Betty as it's known in our house), a reward for my 1440 words written this afternoon! Hurrah! If I can write something every day this week, I might manage to get Chapter 1 done. Ambitions...
There go the Doritos
As promised... I scoffed the Doritos.
Now, writing. Honest, guv. Except maybe another cup of coffee.
Now, writing. Honest, guv. Except maybe another cup of coffee.
I want a boyfriend
Some recent obsessive googling has revealed a couple of interesting facts. Firstly, I have about ten years to get my shit in order, and really only about five. Most of the people I admire (who are rather predictably writers and actors) are in their mid thirties. I am going to be twenty six this year. I need to knuckle down. So, yeah yeah yeah, I hear you all cry, what about the career stuff? I say, stuff my career, I want to get published. Oh, and to have a nice boyfriend who's equally as successful, in fact, probably more so, because it would take the pressure off me. And maybe famous.
There we are. Ramblings of an incoherent madwoman who spent the last eleven hours sleeping. Really. I slept until a quarter to eleven this morning. This is practically unheard of, so I must have needed it. However, what scares me is that there's now so little left of the day and that the likelihood is, my main sustenance will be lime flavoured Doritos with guacamole, and a white chocolate and raspberry over sized cookie (I've already consumed that). The reason I slept sooo late was that I had a dream that Simon Pegg fell in love with me... and then once I got him into bed, he turned into TEBWSNBNITB (that's The Ex-Boyfriend Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog) (and that is an homage to Meg Cabot's Husband, He Who Shall Not Be Named In Her Blog, except for her it's This Blog - oh this is getting very confusing). Anyway, not only did he turn into TEBWSNBNITB, but TEBWSNBNITB opened his mouth and had done something stupid with his gums with staples that I then had to repair. We also did not get to have any sort of passionate/rampant dream sex. Instead I was picking staples out of his dream gums. I mean... HONESTLY! Is it just me, but why is it that as soon as some new lust figure appears in my dreams (and yes, I know lust is a sin, but I've been single now for a year and three months, and I've not had sex for a year and two months - you work it out) he turns into someone I actually know, and have probably had sex with, which narrows it all down to a very very few people? Surely part of the advantage of dream sex is that one's brain gets to explore new horizons. Gnuh. So I kept on going back to sleep, in the hope that I might be able to get the dream back on track. But I couldn't.
Instead, I dreamt next that my boss fell in a hole in the carpet like Beckett's lady in the mound, and I had to pull her out. And that we were searching for a little lost girl, and my boss's lost laptop, and my boss shouted at me for not having my priorities right. Even though I had saved her from the weird hole in the floor. Which I think indicates that I think I am my boss's lifeline and under-appreciated. Oh yes.
The shower calls, tooth brushing, and really I should go for a brisk walk or something to wake myself up. Yeah right.
There we are. Ramblings of an incoherent madwoman who spent the last eleven hours sleeping. Really. I slept until a quarter to eleven this morning. This is practically unheard of, so I must have needed it. However, what scares me is that there's now so little left of the day and that the likelihood is, my main sustenance will be lime flavoured Doritos with guacamole, and a white chocolate and raspberry over sized cookie (I've already consumed that). The reason I slept sooo late was that I had a dream that Simon Pegg fell in love with me... and then once I got him into bed, he turned into TEBWSNBNITB (that's The Ex-Boyfriend Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog) (and that is an homage to Meg Cabot's Husband, He Who Shall Not Be Named In Her Blog, except for her it's This Blog - oh this is getting very confusing). Anyway, not only did he turn into TEBWSNBNITB, but TEBWSNBNITB opened his mouth and had done something stupid with his gums with staples that I then had to repair. We also did not get to have any sort of passionate/rampant dream sex. Instead I was picking staples out of his dream gums. I mean... HONESTLY! Is it just me, but why is it that as soon as some new lust figure appears in my dreams (and yes, I know lust is a sin, but I've been single now for a year and three months, and I've not had sex for a year and two months - you work it out) he turns into someone I actually know, and have probably had sex with, which narrows it all down to a very very few people? Surely part of the advantage of dream sex is that one's brain gets to explore new horizons. Gnuh. So I kept on going back to sleep, in the hope that I might be able to get the dream back on track. But I couldn't.
Instead, I dreamt next that my boss fell in a hole in the carpet like Beckett's lady in the mound, and I had to pull her out. And that we were searching for a little lost girl, and my boss's lost laptop, and my boss shouted at me for not having my priorities right. Even though I had saved her from the weird hole in the floor. Which I think indicates that I think I am my boss's lifeline and under-appreciated. Oh yes.
The shower calls, tooth brushing, and really I should go for a brisk walk or something to wake myself up. Yeah right.
Saturday, 17 February 2007
Embarassing Celebrity Crush #2
Christopher Dean. There's just something about him. Maybe it's because of every girls' ice skating fantasy... shame that apparently the male constumes have jockstraps *sewn into them*.
This is what an evening of vegging out infront of ITV does for a person's brain!
This is what an evening of vegging out infront of ITV does for a person's brain!
Caught by the Fuzz
Hmmm, I wasted my Saturday afternoon by going to see Hot Fuzz. Again. I guess that cements my typical celebrity crush on Simon Pegg.
Slugageddon
Or should it be slugastrophic? Home from the pub, I nip upstairs, get my pyjams on, then creep back down, only to tread on something in the dark that has just spurted like a ripe tomato. On closer inspection, it is revealed to be a slug on the kitchen mat. How it got there is a mystery, how it felt under slippered foot was disgusting. I thought briefly that it's a relief I'm not an adherent of a karmic-religion, and made my cup of tea, avoiding the fall out area. Which I will wash tomorrow. Ugh ugh ugh.
Down the pub with a whole ream of people. Philippa, Amber, Marianne, Hannah (the latter two now esconsed in a house together), Amy and David Avital. Nice night. Gone off wine, can't drink it after last weekend, stuck to gin and tonic after an experiment glass on the viney stuff. There was chat, there was in-depth discussion about mutual friends. There were four free cabs in a row for the journey home, which was fantastic, and it was nice to be out and about after a fairly horrendous week.
Personal whinge: in-depth discussion about mutual friends was in-depth discussion about a man, let's call him M. and a girl, let's call her P. P. used to be best friends with two of tonight's attendees, but since beginning her relationship with M. sees the friends considerably less. They feel very hurt. I am indignant on their behalf, but the situation is complicated by feelings I once had for M. I am a different person now, I no longer have those feelings, but residual hurt and resentment remains. To make matters worse, it has emerged that there is this 'couples group' of associated colleagues, who went on holiday with together with their partners, and out for dinner the other night, thus excluding anyone who isn't in a couple totally automatically, and I don't think that ever would have happened if P. hadn't found a boyfriend in M. and the whole situation irritates me. So there.
I hope I don't have a hangover tomorrow. Since the pubs stopped automatically closing at 11pm, I've found it harder and harder to gauge when to stop drinking and when to go home. Hopefully my cup of tea will cure my headache.
Down the pub with a whole ream of people. Philippa, Amber, Marianne, Hannah (the latter two now esconsed in a house together), Amy and David Avital. Nice night. Gone off wine, can't drink it after last weekend, stuck to gin and tonic after an experiment glass on the viney stuff. There was chat, there was in-depth discussion about mutual friends. There were four free cabs in a row for the journey home, which was fantastic, and it was nice to be out and about after a fairly horrendous week.
Personal whinge: in-depth discussion about mutual friends was in-depth discussion about a man, let's call him M. and a girl, let's call her P. P. used to be best friends with two of tonight's attendees, but since beginning her relationship with M. sees the friends considerably less. They feel very hurt. I am indignant on their behalf, but the situation is complicated by feelings I once had for M. I am a different person now, I no longer have those feelings, but residual hurt and resentment remains. To make matters worse, it has emerged that there is this 'couples group' of associated colleagues, who went on holiday with together with their partners, and out for dinner the other night, thus excluding anyone who isn't in a couple totally automatically, and I don't think that ever would have happened if P. hadn't found a boyfriend in M. and the whole situation irritates me. So there.
I hope I don't have a hangover tomorrow. Since the pubs stopped automatically closing at 11pm, I've found it harder and harder to gauge when to stop drinking and when to go home. Hopefully my cup of tea will cure my headache.
Friday, 16 February 2007
More moodiness
Hmm, last weekend I was in a grump, this week I've been miserable. I don't know what's wrong with me; maybe it's just the February blues. Maybe it's that I'm constantly knackered. Maybe it's that I'm not doing any writing or anything fulfilling in the slightest.
This morning, I had a total meltdown on the phone to Orange, after they screwed up my bill for the third month running. I was quite cross with them (and to be fair, they have been accomodating, but still incompetant). In fact, I was so frustrated I cried, and now I have a crying headache. To make matters worse, my boss is working at home, and I have tons to do, so I can't just go home, because I need to be able to use the computer systems here. Not that I'm sure I really want to go home. Actually what I want is a portion of chips, some really fat food... ooh. What I want is to go home and watch videos. I remember when I was a student and used to watch DVDs all the time. I'd like to watch a DVD and do my knitting, that would be soooo nice.
Right, the misery will be over soon, probably as soon as I get to go out for lunch. And it's Friday, I can leave early, AND I'm going out tonight with Philippa and Amber, and also Amy, which is unusual but should be good. I'm looking forward to having a nice drink. However, I'll have to be careful not to drink too much, especially as I suspect that I'm still recovering from last weekend's hangover.
This morning, I had a total meltdown on the phone to Orange, after they screwed up my bill for the third month running. I was quite cross with them (and to be fair, they have been accomodating, but still incompetant). In fact, I was so frustrated I cried, and now I have a crying headache. To make matters worse, my boss is working at home, and I have tons to do, so I can't just go home, because I need to be able to use the computer systems here. Not that I'm sure I really want to go home. Actually what I want is a portion of chips, some really fat food... ooh. What I want is to go home and watch videos. I remember when I was a student and used to watch DVDs all the time. I'd like to watch a DVD and do my knitting, that would be soooo nice.
Right, the misery will be over soon, probably as soon as I get to go out for lunch. And it's Friday, I can leave early, AND I'm going out tonight with Philippa and Amber, and also Amy, which is unusual but should be good. I'm looking forward to having a nice drink. However, I'll have to be careful not to drink too much, especially as I suspect that I'm still recovering from last weekend's hangover.
Thursday, 15 February 2007
Escapism
Two films in two days: something must be up. The first, Music and Lyrics, which I thought was going to be abominable, turned out to have a couple of really excellent jokes in it, which almost made up for the terrible music and lyrics, the fact that Hugh Grant is starting to look really old, and that Drew Barrymore is uncommonly pretty. The second, Hot Fuzz, which I took myself to see to cheer myself up - and it worked. Lots of laugh-out-loud jokes, it was brilliant fun, in fact, fantastic. But cinema on one's own can sometimes feel a bit empty... and popcorn and drink on one's own, a bit over-filling.
I had this whole rant to write about ambiguity, but I can't remember what it was about. It could have been linking Everybody Loves Raymond, which I get dressed to in the morning, and Music and Lyrics, but then again it might not. It could have been about something I read, but I can't remember. So much for Deep Thought. More like Deeply Buried Thoughts Never To Emerge.
I have to do some writing this weekend. I also HAVE to do some cleaning, some clothes washing, some general tidying of my room, which looks like a bomb hit it. I have to go to church, too. As Sarah said to me last Friday, it's so easy to start to feel disconnected.
Thank goodness it's Friday tomorrow. This has been a real week and a half, and I'm shattered. My greatest wish would be to be able to 'work' from home tomorrow. Sadly, no banana for me on that front.
I had this whole rant to write about ambiguity, but I can't remember what it was about. It could have been linking Everybody Loves Raymond, which I get dressed to in the morning, and Music and Lyrics, but then again it might not. It could have been about something I read, but I can't remember. So much for Deep Thought. More like Deeply Buried Thoughts Never To Emerge.
I have to do some writing this weekend. I also HAVE to do some cleaning, some clothes washing, some general tidying of my room, which looks like a bomb hit it. I have to go to church, too. As Sarah said to me last Friday, it's so easy to start to feel disconnected.
Thank goodness it's Friday tomorrow. This has been a real week and a half, and I'm shattered. My greatest wish would be to be able to 'work' from home tomorrow. Sadly, no banana for me on that front.
Tuesday, 13 February 2007
Conspiracy theories, paranoia, and the like
Ah, I checked my work email, and the editors who nearly reduced me to tears with frustration this morning, have almost reduced me to tears of joy this evening. Hoorah! They like my cover design idea (what a relief!).
Good evening, round to Philippa's lovely, if boxy and beige, one bedroom flat round the corner. We wanted to call Temple Cowley TC to see if it being cool would catch on. I don't think so, although I am envious of all her one-bedroomed alone-ness. She gave me fusilli pasta with delicious mozzarella, tomatoes and basil, and we chatted all about publishing and the like. Then I said 'Oh, I was watching Loose Change last night' and she said 'I was watching it this morning' and then we had a big conversation about the whole conspiracy thing. And I drank far too much of her winebox wine (even though I took round a nice bottle of Ruby Cabernet! Sob!) and so now I'm home, with a dry mouth and no energy to take my make up off. But it was a nice day.
I know that I shouldn't, but I do wish that I could buy my own one-bedroomed flat. It would be so cool.
Paranoia: someone I know is paranoid, and with good reason. It's a sticky situation, and I don't know what to do about it, so I don't know why I'm sharing it here...
Good evening, round to Philippa's lovely, if boxy and beige, one bedroom flat round the corner. We wanted to call Temple Cowley TC to see if it being cool would catch on. I don't think so, although I am envious of all her one-bedroomed alone-ness. She gave me fusilli pasta with delicious mozzarella, tomatoes and basil, and we chatted all about publishing and the like. Then I said 'Oh, I was watching Loose Change last night' and she said 'I was watching it this morning' and then we had a big conversation about the whole conspiracy thing. And I drank far too much of her winebox wine (even though I took round a nice bottle of Ruby Cabernet! Sob!) and so now I'm home, with a dry mouth and no energy to take my make up off. But it was a nice day.
I know that I shouldn't, but I do wish that I could buy my own one-bedroomed flat. It would be so cool.
Paranoia: someone I know is paranoid, and with good reason. It's a sticky situation, and I don't know what to do about it, so I don't know why I'm sharing it here...
Every blessing
Honestly, sometimes I worry about my faith. I prayed all the way to work in the car this morning, worship songs on the stereo, asking God to help me to be more like him (patient, loving, faithful, kind) and then got to work and within the first half an hour had totally forgotten my desire to be clothed in righteousness and goodwill to all men, thanks to an email from an editor of a book. By lunchtime (cold shepherd's pie, delicious), I had forgotten all my good intentions. Gordon said, at the baptism lessons, that you get up in or out of the spirit, pretty much like waking up on the wrong side of the bed. I know that sometimes, I just need to plug myself back in, take time to be with God, have what people call 'quiet time', because I am really bad at it. But I still don't. Feeling guilty about it doesn't help, though.
Anyway, last night I conked out. But have found inspiration... I find that inspiration strikes all the time, which is annoying because then I never do anything about it. But anyway, what was inspiring was a film about the conspiracy theory about the 9/11 terror attacks. After watching it, I honestly don't know what I believe. Then I started reading about the moon landing conspiracy theory, the New World Order conspiracy theory, and I felt like my brain was going to explode. Or xplod, as the loud setting on car stereo is called. Then I read about David Icke's reptilian world leaders who drink human blood and really worried about my sanity for even allowing the words to grace the front of my eyes...
Anyway, last night I conked out. But have found inspiration... I find that inspiration strikes all the time, which is annoying because then I never do anything about it. But anyway, what was inspiring was a film about the conspiracy theory about the 9/11 terror attacks. After watching it, I honestly don't know what I believe. Then I started reading about the moon landing conspiracy theory, the New World Order conspiracy theory, and I felt like my brain was going to explode. Or xplod, as the loud setting on car stereo is called. Then I read about David Icke's reptilian world leaders who drink human blood and really worried about my sanity for even allowing the words to grace the front of my eyes...
Monday, 12 February 2007
Working Wonder
Sailing close to the wind here, considering Neil's previous comment which led to the hasty editig on Saturday... But here, for a bit of amusement, are pictures that came round attached to an email:
We're having problems with the photocopier/printer rooms again (see photo's).
Yesterday there were 16,900 pages printed by both buildings.
Building 2 printed 11,272 and Building 4 printed 5,628
We're having problems with the photocopier/printer rooms again (see photo's).
Yesterday there were 16,900 pages printed by both buildings.
Building 2 printed 11,272 and Building 4 printed 5,628
Shock horror!! (Although it can't be good for the environment, can it?)
Good weekend. Had the most evil hangover on Sunday after drinking too much, too slowly, too steadily on Saturday. Yes, seeing Andy and Sheena was indeed lovely, they are lovely. Home was fine, too. I was just glad to get back to Oxford and watch the Bafta's, talking to Sarah on the phone, observing the best dresses. Very nice. In response to some conversation on Saturday, I quickly made a CD to send to Andy and Sheena - they are more up with the kids than I am, but even so...
So, planning on recovering today and tomorrow from my weekend. It feels weird not to have gone to church, I don't think I've missed a Sunday since Christmas. Oh well...
Saturday, 10 February 2007
Ho ho ho
Have you been watching the Mitchell and Webb Apple ads? I (sadly) even downloaded Quicktime onto my 'internet and writing only' computer (which is fast becoming 'kitchen table, bed and living room' computer).
But I agree with Mlle. Belle about this:
You know, I love Charlie Brooker. And I love David Mitchell. And of course, I love Doctor Who.
But when Charlie Brooker writes of the new Mitchell and Webb Apple Mac campaign, 'Doctor Who, incidentally, would definitely use a PC,' well, I think maybe I like Charlie Brooker and David Mitchell just an ickle bit less.
Because Doctor Who would not use a PC. Doctor Who would not soil his fingers on a Silicon Graphics. He would not give the time of day to Sun, Amiga, Next, Cray, Xerox Alto, Datapoint 2200 or indeed any other box you care to come up with.
Doctor Who uses a quantum computer, fool. And don't even ask about operating system, because he manipulates the qubits directly with his mind.
But I agree with Mlle. Belle about this:
You know, I love Charlie Brooker. And I love David Mitchell. And of course, I love Doctor Who.
But when Charlie Brooker writes of the new Mitchell and Webb Apple Mac campaign, 'Doctor Who, incidentally, would definitely use a PC,' well, I think maybe I like Charlie Brooker and David Mitchell just an ickle bit less.
Because Doctor Who would not use a PC. Doctor Who would not soil his fingers on a Silicon Graphics. He would not give the time of day to Sun, Amiga, Next, Cray, Xerox Alto, Datapoint 2200 or indeed any other box you care to come up with.
Doctor Who uses a quantum computer, fool. And don't even ask about operating system, because he manipulates the qubits directly with his mind.
The History of Lucy's Love Life in 10 1/2 Chapters by Deborah Wright
An odd book, this one. Kind of a literary sci-fi-rom-com. The author's got the literary pedigree, with a degree from Oxford, but the heroine's obsession with Byron and other figures from the past is a bit backwards, and makes her rather unsympathetic when it's obvious that the man of her destiny is sitting right under her nose. So what makes the novel fun, and is its USP, the time travel, is actually the most annoying part of the plot, with regard to her meeting famous men in history. Although Ovid being a mean old boot isn't much fun, and I disagree, being a big Ovid fan (and a literary snob myself). But the time travel comes into its own when she visits her boyfriend as a child (weird)... and when figures from the past leak into the twenty-first century.In many respects, this reminded me of Freya North's Sally, mainly because the heroine was sparklingly intelligent, but kept it all in, and was a commitment phobe. But it was way more fun than that book. And of course I liked it, basically, it was Doctor Who for girls (not that Doctor Who isn't for girls, ah, how I love him!). I feel a bit mean criticizing it because it fell short for me, I think that the real problem was its episodic nature, due to the time-travel gimmick. Otherwise, it would have been perfect. Oh, and nice text design, too, and chapter labelling (yup, book geek).
Shopaholic and Baby by Sophie Kinsella
I sniffed at Sophie Kinsella for quite a while. The EBWSNBNITB kept on trying to get me to read Can You Keep a Secret and I resisted and resisted until suddenly I bought one (after standing by it in the queue in WHSmiths at Southampton General Hospital day after day after day, I recall) and I was hooked. So I went back, and read the others. And she's great. She's funny, she's smart, can't everyone see, it is a joke? People who are snobby about Kinsella's books (and I can think of one at my work) are just plain wrong. She's the female Richard Curtis. Oh, except that's Helen Fielding. She's just herself. But she is pretty brill.
Shopaholic and Baby is fine. I enjoyed it, although I suppose it might be seen to be a bit formulaic, particularly when, after all this time, a threat to Becky and Luke's marriage couldn't possibly be allowed to ruin Becky's happiness, not when she has a baby coming (could it?). Some bits did feel a tad contrived, and also, a bit like Richard Curtis, how come everyone has pots of money and fabulous jobs? What I loved about The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic was that Becky was genuinely in debt and in trouble. But as a read, mid-week escapism, fun under the duvet (because reading is as much fun as I get there at the moment), it was fab.
Les Miserables
The weather outside is frightful, and we have no fire, and I am not feeling delightful in the slightest. I am in a bit of a grump this morning. This is partly because I know I'm off to Reading later to see Andy and Sheena, and even though they are lovely, I don't especially want to go. They always put me up, which is nice of them, so that I can drink, but it means that in the morning, I won't wake up in my own bed, I'll have to shower in someone else's bathroom, and even though they are kind, and sweet, there's always that inevitable awkward moment; I want to leave, you want me to leave, we are being polite... etc. But I expect it will be lovely to see them, and if necessary, I can just get up and go, and shower at home, which is where I'm going tomorrow.
I guess that part of the problem is, I've known for a while that this is going to be a bit of a busy weekend. And there's nothing wrong with that. But I do like lazy weekends... and I don't know why I'm being so negative! After all, I don't have to be there til three, I'm getting free meals all weekend, and right now, I'm sitting in our lovely dining room, at the big pine table, using my laptop totally wirelessly, and I've got a cup of tea by my side. Everything is quiet... lovely.
So, yesterday's interview. Apart from the fact that I went out the wrong door, and walked all the way around the outside of London bridge station in the pissing rain, to find the offices, I got there just fine. Read the FT, as Max had warned me to do. Basically, I came away thinking that I could definitely do the job, and hoping that I get through to the next round. Weird, though, to consider that I might become an accountant. So I came back, after a nice vanilla latte with Max in Starbucks, feeling quite positive. Now, of course, the doubt is settling in. And to make matters worse, when I checked my work email (idly, not in a work-obsessed way) I had an email from my boss, which annoyed me. Since my brother has just nagged me for becoming 'a blogger who gets fired for talking about her job' I've swiftly edited this. But allow me to elaborate: it's the principle of the thing and it has made me even more determined to leave and get a job worth having...
Finally, I am disappointed that Hot Fuzz is a fifteen certificate, mostly because I was hoping to take Matthew when I go to babysit. When I was thirteen, mum took me to see Four Weddings and a Funeral (my favourite film of all time, watched it again this week, taking advantage of the fact that this house has a working video) and it did me no harm, except perhaps to lead me to expect life after university to be full of posh people swearing and not working ever. Anyway, will have to think of something else for us to do. He's at a very in-between age. Cannot wait til he is eighteen and we can take him down the pub. But he probably won't like the taste.
And finally, I haven't been updating my book reviews. That will come, mes amies...
I guess that part of the problem is, I've known for a while that this is going to be a bit of a busy weekend. And there's nothing wrong with that. But I do like lazy weekends... and I don't know why I'm being so negative! After all, I don't have to be there til three, I'm getting free meals all weekend, and right now, I'm sitting in our lovely dining room, at the big pine table, using my laptop totally wirelessly, and I've got a cup of tea by my side. Everything is quiet... lovely.
So, yesterday's interview. Apart from the fact that I went out the wrong door, and walked all the way around the outside of London bridge station in the pissing rain, to find the offices, I got there just fine. Read the FT, as Max had warned me to do. Basically, I came away thinking that I could definitely do the job, and hoping that I get through to the next round. Weird, though, to consider that I might become an accountant. So I came back, after a nice vanilla latte with Max in Starbucks, feeling quite positive. Now, of course, the doubt is settling in. And to make matters worse, when I checked my work email (idly, not in a work-obsessed way) I had an email from my boss, which annoyed me. Since my brother has just nagged me for becoming 'a blogger who gets fired for talking about her job' I've swiftly edited this. But allow me to elaborate: it's the principle of the thing and it has made me even more determined to leave and get a job worth having...
Finally, I am disappointed that Hot Fuzz is a fifteen certificate, mostly because I was hoping to take Matthew when I go to babysit. When I was thirteen, mum took me to see Four Weddings and a Funeral (my favourite film of all time, watched it again this week, taking advantage of the fact that this house has a working video) and it did me no harm, except perhaps to lead me to expect life after university to be full of posh people swearing and not working ever. Anyway, will have to think of something else for us to do. He's at a very in-between age. Cannot wait til he is eighteen and we can take him down the pub. But he probably won't like the taste.
And finally, I haven't been updating my book reviews. That will come, mes amies...
Thursday, 8 February 2007
Lonesome Worrier
I am a lonesome warrior, waiting for my vegetable-packed stove-top casserole to cook. Isa's going out tonight, and I went out last night (and very nice it was too, except for the fact that I had indigestion when I got home), and before that she was out (seeing a girl friend, although it still could be man trouble...) so tonight I'm home alone. Again. Yawn.
And it's effectively my Friday night, because I have tomorrow off. But I don't, not really. I have my interview tomorrow and I am so so nervous. Because I have no idea what I'm going to be asked and no idea what I'm going to be able to say. I am hoping I won't be tested on anything (it didn't say: bring a calculator) but if I am, I suppose I'll just have to do my best. Argh argh argh. To make matters worse, my suit is a wee bit tight. And I didn't like any of the ones I went to panic buy in Next (better not to panic buy, though, glad I resisted). And Amy is in a strop with me, because she found out about the interview from Aileen's emails printed off accidentally on our printer, even though Aileen was working from home. I didn't want to tell her, because I didn't want her to know, plain and simple, because I didn't feel it was her business. Oh well.
The snow meant a load of people were working from home. But not me. I would have loved to work from home, but my boss was in, so in I went. Actually there was one dicey moment, at the Sainsbury's roundabout, and that was due to compacted snow, but mainly the roads were clear. And getting home was fine. It's so disappointing that this morning there was a beautiful white blanket covering everything, dripping like thick icing, lush and fondant-soft, and this evening there's alot of grey sludge.
I really haven't got much to say. Seeing Philippa and Amber last night was lots of fun. We were joking about setting up and independent publishers, with a porn imprint 'On the kitchen table', and funding it by writing romance novels. Sadly, this would never happen in real life, but it was a funny joke. I met Melissa, the new housemate who lives in Philippa's old room. She seems nice enough, and luckily for Amber and Taiba, seems to be a dedicated smoker.
Long weekend, then! Tomorrow is my dream escape from my job, and even if I get no further after this, it's good research for things like novels, and even just broader world experience. Bit scary though...
I took pics of the snow this morning! Will post soon...
And it's effectively my Friday night, because I have tomorrow off. But I don't, not really. I have my interview tomorrow and I am so so nervous. Because I have no idea what I'm going to be asked and no idea what I'm going to be able to say. I am hoping I won't be tested on anything (it didn't say: bring a calculator) but if I am, I suppose I'll just have to do my best. Argh argh argh. To make matters worse, my suit is a wee bit tight. And I didn't like any of the ones I went to panic buy in Next (better not to panic buy, though, glad I resisted). And Amy is in a strop with me, because she found out about the interview from Aileen's emails printed off accidentally on our printer, even though Aileen was working from home. I didn't want to tell her, because I didn't want her to know, plain and simple, because I didn't feel it was her business. Oh well.
The snow meant a load of people were working from home. But not me. I would have loved to work from home, but my boss was in, so in I went. Actually there was one dicey moment, at the Sainsbury's roundabout, and that was due to compacted snow, but mainly the roads were clear. And getting home was fine. It's so disappointing that this morning there was a beautiful white blanket covering everything, dripping like thick icing, lush and fondant-soft, and this evening there's alot of grey sludge.
I really haven't got much to say. Seeing Philippa and Amber last night was lots of fun. We were joking about setting up and independent publishers, with a porn imprint 'On the kitchen table', and funding it by writing romance novels. Sadly, this would never happen in real life, but it was a funny joke. I met Melissa, the new housemate who lives in Philippa's old room. She seems nice enough, and luckily for Amber and Taiba, seems to be a dedicated smoker.
Long weekend, then! Tomorrow is my dream escape from my job, and even if I get no further after this, it's good research for things like novels, and even just broader world experience. Bit scary though...
I took pics of the snow this morning! Will post soon...
Wednesday, 7 February 2007
Sharing
Our office is a nightmare for the diet-conscious. Beside me, hidden on the floor, is a fat carrot cake; a surprise for someone's birthday. Yum. But a nightmare.
I meant to do some wittering last night, but instead ended up browsing UCL's online Pi magazine, with a large glass of Ruby Cabernet (my favourite red) slumped on my bed. Sad, eh? Then I read and went to sleep. This was after obsessively cutting out pictures of Christmas trees, for my collage pile. I need to do some serious sticking of my collage, I had to take it down off the wall (I still need to post the pic). I also need to do some serious writing. Alas, it won't happen tonight; I'm off to Amber's for dinner.
*** edit
I meant to write about this, then clicked 'publish' and then remembered. Isabelle came in last night and went straight back out again, to visit 'a friend'. She was a bit funny with me on Saturday, and on Sunday alluded to an email she'd got that upset her, but that it was 'in the past' and she had to 'put it behind' her. Now, I assumed it was something to do with a man, because, isn't it always? She said she felt better about it on Saturday after seeing her friend Annaluca, who prayed with her about it. But then last night, she just seemed grim. But after the whole Cate thing, I feel very aware that just as I expect Isa to respect my boundaries, I have to respect hers, and just because I'm curious doesn't mean I actually want to know. I'm happier not knowing, it just is difficult when you wonder if you've done something. But I know I didn't. Anyway, that explains the large glass of wine; I was alone at home for the second night running. Bit pants, really.
I'm busy at work. My boss seems to think that the volume of work I have to deal with is not overwhelming, and I'd agree, but I am of the opinion that it is impossible to really 'work harder' - you can work more effectively, or you can work longer, but sheer effort isn't going to make the difference, maybe that's just me, though.
I'm also busy being concerned about what I eat. Making packed lunches is a relatively good thing to do, but takes time, planning meals is good, but means you're always thinking about food. I did go to the Step class at lunchtime, and it wasn't too bad. I'm unfit and heavy, though, I could feel myself *lumbering*. Very worrying.
I am a bit disoriented this week; knowing I've got an interview on Friday makes me feel disoriented, I haven't mangaged to get a card off for my Nanna's birthday (today, noooo!) and my boss has been in different days, so Monday felt like Wednesday, and today feels like Tuesday, and tomorrow... well, tomorrow we are due for snow, apparently. I hope so, it would be so good to get snowed in and not have to come to work!
Should get on; at last, a parcel from our freelancer in France has arrived, full of permissions correspondance, and I am going to have to get into that sooner rather than later.
I meant to do some wittering last night, but instead ended up browsing UCL's online Pi magazine, with a large glass of Ruby Cabernet (my favourite red) slumped on my bed. Sad, eh? Then I read and went to sleep. This was after obsessively cutting out pictures of Christmas trees, for my collage pile. I need to do some serious sticking of my collage, I had to take it down off the wall (I still need to post the pic). I also need to do some serious writing. Alas, it won't happen tonight; I'm off to Amber's for dinner.
*** edit
I meant to write about this, then clicked 'publish' and then remembered. Isabelle came in last night and went straight back out again, to visit 'a friend'. She was a bit funny with me on Saturday, and on Sunday alluded to an email she'd got that upset her, but that it was 'in the past' and she had to 'put it behind' her. Now, I assumed it was something to do with a man, because, isn't it always? She said she felt better about it on Saturday after seeing her friend Annaluca, who prayed with her about it. But then last night, she just seemed grim. But after the whole Cate thing, I feel very aware that just as I expect Isa to respect my boundaries, I have to respect hers, and just because I'm curious doesn't mean I actually want to know. I'm happier not knowing, it just is difficult when you wonder if you've done something. But I know I didn't. Anyway, that explains the large glass of wine; I was alone at home for the second night running. Bit pants, really.
I'm busy at work. My boss seems to think that the volume of work I have to deal with is not overwhelming, and I'd agree, but I am of the opinion that it is impossible to really 'work harder' - you can work more effectively, or you can work longer, but sheer effort isn't going to make the difference, maybe that's just me, though.
I'm also busy being concerned about what I eat. Making packed lunches is a relatively good thing to do, but takes time, planning meals is good, but means you're always thinking about food. I did go to the Step class at lunchtime, and it wasn't too bad. I'm unfit and heavy, though, I could feel myself *lumbering*. Very worrying.
I am a bit disoriented this week; knowing I've got an interview on Friday makes me feel disoriented, I haven't mangaged to get a card off for my Nanna's birthday (today, noooo!) and my boss has been in different days, so Monday felt like Wednesday, and today feels like Tuesday, and tomorrow... well, tomorrow we are due for snow, apparently. I hope so, it would be so good to get snowed in and not have to come to work!
Should get on; at last, a parcel from our freelancer in France has arrived, full of permissions correspondance, and I am going to have to get into that sooner rather than later.
Monday, 5 February 2007
Cruel world
Sometimes, the world seems a cruel place, hard to take in. I'm watching this programme, about young carers, and there is a tiny tiny girl on there, whose parents are blind, who takes care of her brothers and sisters. Her parents are ignorant, and they don't seem to care about the pressure their seeing children are under, to care for them and their families. It's heartbreaking.
Cate called me; her Dad died last week. She's okay, she sounded relieved. There won't be a funeral, because they are atheists. On the one hand it was nice to hear from her, on the other hand, she talked at me for forty minutes, basically because she was lonely. It sounds like Anne-Marie, the new me in the flat, is much more Cate's type of person than I am. Sad about her Dad, sad for Cate, too, but as she said, she now has no excuse not to sort her life out. However, I am glad I moved out when I did. It was definitely the right thing to do.
Today, I went swimming after work. Physical activity, surely not?! I am not a very strong swimmer, and it's not really something you can teach yourself, but I do enjoy it, and being in water is a much nicer feeling than getting puffed out and sweaty on a treadmill. But tomorrow, Lorna has asked me to go to step class with her. Argh. I even wrote it on a post-it note. I have to go. Between that and my new healthy eating regime (double argh) I am feeling pretty good, as in smug. I even already prepared my food for tomorrow, and for dinner, I had fish, which it was a real achievement for me to bake and eat, considering I once was practically phobic of fish bones.
My work appraisal was good, which was satisfying. But the really interesting thing will be next week when I have a work planning session. However, my boss was sweet to me, and she understands my frustrations, which is good.
I would have liked to have done some writing tonight, but it hasn't happened (yet). ER is on, so it probably won't happen now. So hard to fit it in. And this weekend is going to be pretty busy, too. Wowee.
Cate called me; her Dad died last week. She's okay, she sounded relieved. There won't be a funeral, because they are atheists. On the one hand it was nice to hear from her, on the other hand, she talked at me for forty minutes, basically because she was lonely. It sounds like Anne-Marie, the new me in the flat, is much more Cate's type of person than I am. Sad about her Dad, sad for Cate, too, but as she said, she now has no excuse not to sort her life out. However, I am glad I moved out when I did. It was definitely the right thing to do.
Today, I went swimming after work. Physical activity, surely not?! I am not a very strong swimmer, and it's not really something you can teach yourself, but I do enjoy it, and being in water is a much nicer feeling than getting puffed out and sweaty on a treadmill. But tomorrow, Lorna has asked me to go to step class with her. Argh. I even wrote it on a post-it note. I have to go. Between that and my new healthy eating regime (double argh) I am feeling pretty good, as in smug. I even already prepared my food for tomorrow, and for dinner, I had fish, which it was a real achievement for me to bake and eat, considering I once was practically phobic of fish bones.
My work appraisal was good, which was satisfying. But the really interesting thing will be next week when I have a work planning session. However, my boss was sweet to me, and she understands my frustrations, which is good.
I would have liked to have done some writing tonight, but it hasn't happened (yet). ER is on, so it probably won't happen now. So hard to fit it in. And this weekend is going to be pretty busy, too. Wowee.
Sunday, 4 February 2007
Watch Me Disappear by Jill Dawson
Fab title, shame about the fact that it has NOTHING to do with the excellent story.Or maybe it's just me who thinks that.
Since I was failing to read Joyce Carol Oates, I decided to test myself with something in-between the trash I usually go for and the literary heavyweight. This was it. I'd wanted to read it for a while. It's set in East Anglia, which is so interesting, since Dad and Barbara lived there for a while, and I recognised the description of the bleakness of the landscape. But also, it is set against the background of the Soham murders (I presume). Very interesting choice.
And it's a bold book, bold in its ambiguity, and both satisfying and unsatisfying because of it. There are details and issues there that I'm not sure I fully understood; the protagonist/narrator's job with seahorses, for example. But it's written beautifully, there's a lovely contrast between the English and the American in it. And it handles the youthful sexuality of young girls very well. I'd recommend it.
Saturday, 3 February 2007
My lovely day
I love Saturdays, all that freedom, all those possibilities. And so even though I spent today fulfilling obligations, I had a great day. It started with reading in bed. It continued with scrambled egg on toast, coffee, reading in the living room with the sun streaming in through the windows, warm despite the cold outside. After that, there was some writing. Following on from that, I drove to Reading, the stark winter scenery vivid against the broad February sky. I love driving the backroute to Reading. On the way there, the scenery is just majestic. In Reading, I met up with Lucy, lunched at Wagamamma (noodles, yum), and then did a little light shopping. I've bought yet more pyjamas and underwear, and failed again to get comfy jeans. Argh. Must lose weight. When I got home, at last, tired after a long day's activity, I had to nip out again because Sarah had SOS'd me needing a lift back from the park and ride. Once she was home, we had a brief chat, and then she went to have a bath and went to bed, exhausted and jetlagged. Meanwhile, I ate my dinner infront of Dancing Strictly On Ice With the Stars and got ready to go to Emma's party. Emma was the only person I knew, my feet were beginning to ache, I drove there, so since I'd only had two drinks when I got there and then moved onto softies (donating a bottle of red - too generous) I drove home quite early. Nice house, nice people. I just wanted to come home.
On the way home, I had a thought: it's the start of the month: premium bonds!! Sure enough, I've won this month, hurrah! I have to say, that since I started sowing willingly into the church, I've really found that my finances have been blessed.
I wanted to write more. More about the delicious pyjamas I bought, in winter candy colours, pale pinks and blues and browns, soft in cotton and jersey. More about the adorable vests I bought, with matching knickers, striped and spotted monochrome. More about the fact that I got Shopaholic and Baby, more about how I invested in new batteries and now my sodding camera works, yay! But instead I'll sign off, I probably wasn't as sober as I hoped driving home and I'm tired.
On the way home, I had a thought: it's the start of the month: premium bonds!! Sure enough, I've won this month, hurrah! I have to say, that since I started sowing willingly into the church, I've really found that my finances have been blessed.
I wanted to write more. More about the delicious pyjamas I bought, in winter candy colours, pale pinks and blues and browns, soft in cotton and jersey. More about the adorable vests I bought, with matching knickers, striped and spotted monochrome. More about the fact that I got Shopaholic and Baby, more about how I invested in new batteries and now my sodding camera works, yay! But instead I'll sign off, I probably wasn't as sober as I hoped driving home and I'm tired.
Friday, 2 February 2007
Prewriting collage
Hey - I'm collaging for Jesus! Alas, my camera being on the blink means I can't post a pic of the collage of my 'half-baked pot-boiler' as my colleague oh-so-supportively called it, this afternoon. But I can tell you the following things I've learnt from the process:
I wish it were easier to type writing down. I suspect I'm going to develop a really bad neck from doing this.
- There are four important locations: UCL, Harringay, the East London Mosque and St John's Wood tube station
- a theme: audiences, being watched, feeling watched, as well as watching deliberately
- consumption - coffee, alcohol
- women are more prominent than men, but there are three men in the book who are important
- one of the women in the story is softer than I originally thought- she's represented by a series of Hitchcock blondes...
- another of the women is harder than I originally thought
- one of the love interests is geekier than I thought
- another of the love interests (oh yes!) is stricter than I thought
- words in the collage (not the title): classics, affair, suspense, honour, faith, love, family, faith, scandal, secrets, sex
I wish it were easier to type writing down. I suspect I'm going to develop a really bad neck from doing this.
Bad Gemma
I'm blogging instead of doing yet another costing. There's only so much idiosyncracy on an excel spreadsheet one can take in one day, I've reached my limits.
My excitment about my collaging knows NO bounds! Not only that, some kind of lovely person dropped a load of fantastic glossy magazines like Red and House Beautiful in the break-out area, so I've snaffled some to take them home to dissect for props and inspiration for my collage/writing. The only thing is, I'm a wee bit worried that my collage is going to end up better than my book, and also more finished than my book - oh ho ho what a joke. I am planning that tomorrow I should blitz some writing. Really just get the words down; it's gotta be better than my dissertation, that's for sure.
On my mind: Glastonbury. Got to register, also got to get the idea out of my head that TEWSNBNITB will probably be there and that I am bound to see him. Because if I do, who cares, I rock more than he does, and secondly, I will be with my brother, who rocks way more that he does, too. Also on my mind: Reading. I said I'd meet Lucy there tomorrow. And finally: must get car serviced. Talk about boring mind numbing stuff!
Matt asked me if I was collaging for Jesus. It made me laugh so much I thought it could be a tagline... but not here, oh no.
My excitment about my collaging knows NO bounds! Not only that, some kind of lovely person dropped a load of fantastic glossy magazines like Red and House Beautiful in the break-out area, so I've snaffled some to take them home to dissect for props and inspiration for my collage/writing. The only thing is, I'm a wee bit worried that my collage is going to end up better than my book, and also more finished than my book - oh ho ho what a joke. I am planning that tomorrow I should blitz some writing. Really just get the words down; it's gotta be better than my dissertation, that's for sure.
On my mind: Glastonbury. Got to register, also got to get the idea out of my head that TEWSNBNITB will probably be there and that I am bound to see him. Because if I do, who cares, I rock more than he does, and secondly, I will be with my brother, who rocks way more that he does, too. Also on my mind: Reading. I said I'd meet Lucy there tomorrow. And finally: must get car serviced. Talk about boring mind numbing stuff!
Matt asked me if I was collaging for Jesus. It made me laugh so much I thought it could be a tagline... but not here, oh no.
mystery
I fell asleep last night without taking off my earrings, taking out my iPod or removing my make up. Blegh. It's Friday, with the flexible working hours, so even though normally I would be bouncing around the room with my leg in one pant, blasting my hair with the hairdryer at this time, today I'm sitting up in bed watching the unfunny Everybody Loves Raymond. For some reason, I have an itchy back. Double blegh.
I'm excited about my collage for my novel. I'm following Jennifer Crusie's example. In fact, I think I shall waste more time and go and look at her examples. Hmmm, I am loving the collage idea; either because it's a distraction from actual writing, but can count as part of the process, OR because it's helping me get my head straight.
I'm excited about my collage for my novel. I'm following Jennifer Crusie's example. In fact, I think I shall waste more time and go and look at her examples. Hmmm, I am loving the collage idea; either because it's a distraction from actual writing, but can count as part of the process, OR because it's helping me get my head straight.
Thursday, 1 February 2007
First time for everything
Working in academic publishing means that we are coached to expect authors with egos (most of them) to have unrealistic expectations about their books. But it's never really happened to me. I've had shameless self-promoters, money grabbers, even lofty ivory tower academics. But tonight I checked my work email, and sure enough, there's the first... ah. Poor person. S/he is going to be sorely disappointed.
A very pleasant evening and late afternoon researching on the net for, and cutting out of magazines, images to use in my book collage. I'm going to finish the WiP if it kills me. Favourite moment? Cutting the words 'sex, scandal and intrigue' off of an advert for Notes on a Scandal. Oh yes. It's certainly fun thinking about the story in terms of patterns and stuff, but I do think that there needs to be more plot. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there just needs to be better structured plot.
A very pleasant evening and late afternoon researching on the net for, and cutting out of magazines, images to use in my book collage. I'm going to finish the WiP if it kills me. Favourite moment? Cutting the words 'sex, scandal and intrigue' off of an advert for Notes on a Scandal. Oh yes. It's certainly fun thinking about the story in terms of patterns and stuff, but I do think that there needs to be more plot. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there just needs to be better structured plot.
Absorbing Tasks
The morning passed in a blur. I was drawing up a text design brief to use for a new book, thinking about websites for our A-level books, and distracted by the notes my boss wrote for my appraisal. They're really good, I felt smug, the grown-up equivalent of getting a good school report, I've always liked praise.
I feel the need to link to my brother's blog, where he has quoted this conversation we had on IM last night, while I was sitting in the living room on a beanbag, half-watching Relocation Relocation.
Neil: yeah Jamie Oliver is on in a second too
Neil: gotta love the Oliver
Gemma: I saw him on Top Gear earlier too
Gemma: you remind me of him, in fact I have a sneaking
suspicion you’ve been modelling yourself on him
The reason, of course, Neil reminds me of Jamie Oliver is that he is passionate, enthusiastic, emotional and blonde. These are all good epithets.
Neil also linked to this: No One Cares What You Had for Lunch, which reminds me that this blog is supposed to be less about wittering about my health, my wealth, and my achievements, and more about writing, faith and hoping that one day I'll ever get a boyfriend again. In that spirit, last night, I started writing a story about a girl called Sophie who works on a local newspaper. Her job is writing the horoscopes, and the tv reviews, until, one day, she thinks she hears the voice of God... it's a comedy.
Tonight, if I manage to write any more, I'll update my wordmeter.
But in the spirit of irony, I'd like to inform you that for lunch I had the most delicious cheese and tomato panini. And I am about to eat mandarins; fruit quota, you know?
I'd like to take pictures of the cool cooking I do, but for some reason, my camera won't work. It's only new (boo hoo!) and so I am going to buy some super new batteries and hope that does the trick.
I feel the need to link to my brother's blog, where he has quoted this conversation we had on IM last night, while I was sitting in the living room on a beanbag, half-watching Relocation Relocation.
Neil: yeah Jamie Oliver is on in a second too
Neil: gotta love the Oliver
Gemma: I saw him on Top Gear earlier too
Gemma: you remind me of him, in fact I have a sneaking
suspicion you’ve been modelling yourself on him
The reason, of course, Neil reminds me of Jamie Oliver is that he is passionate, enthusiastic, emotional and blonde. These are all good epithets.
Neil also linked to this: No One Cares What You Had for Lunch, which reminds me that this blog is supposed to be less about wittering about my health, my wealth, and my achievements, and more about writing, faith and hoping that one day I'll ever get a boyfriend again. In that spirit, last night, I started writing a story about a girl called Sophie who works on a local newspaper. Her job is writing the horoscopes, and the tv reviews, until, one day, she thinks she hears the voice of God... it's a comedy.
Tonight, if I manage to write any more, I'll update my wordmeter.
But in the spirit of irony, I'd like to inform you that for lunch I had the most delicious cheese and tomato panini. And I am about to eat mandarins; fruit quota, you know?
I'd like to take pictures of the cool cooking I do, but for some reason, my camera won't work. It's only new (boo hoo!) and so I am going to buy some super new batteries and hope that does the trick.
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