Wednesday, 31 March 2010

New car?


18/3: Car ordered. Car built, ready to deliver, no modifications. Cheapness due to car SITTING THERE NEEDING SOLD.

26/3: Car "arrived at preparation centre"
DVLA to register car 26/3 or 29/3.

30/3: car still not registered. Car sitting at garage now. Expressed concern that delivery by end of March is condition of deal. Explaination that new system caused bottleneck and 68 cars all need to be delivered by end of March. Panic abounds at garage. Usual solution: meeting to discuss what to do. Silent suggestion: do something instead of talking about it.

31/3: DVLA still not registered car. Cannot be insured and taxed until registered. Will be checked hourly, apparently, they'd like to get it done today to "ensure I can take advantage of full discount". AKA they want to ensure they get full commission. Pointed out small fact of being unprepared to take car at higher price. Ho and lebold, car will *definitely* be registered today, even if I don't get it till Thursday/Friday/Saturday (what they'll do with it till Saturday is a mystery).

Sincerely hoping to update later...



Car is now registered, taxed and insured! For some inexplicable reason it cannot be collected until tomorrow, but still... !!! Price guaranteed, collection tomorrow 5pm.

And so:

Excitement ahoy! NewcartomorrowithasrainsensitivewipersIvealwayswantedthem.

Tuesday, 30 March 2010


Dearest of weathers,

While it is very much appreciated that you indulge my whimsy and return to the glorious climes of Winter, I fear the current abomination outside is actually beyond requirements.

A slight drop in temperature to allay the insects and prolong the wearing of jackets was all I REALLY needed. Gale force winds and driving rain weren't actually required. Kudos for annoying people though, particular admiration for allowing Spring to spring and then snatching it away. Muah ha ha. Timing heavy rain to coincide with spring tide is quite genius, the waves crashing over the sea wall/prom/neighbouring roads/half of Kirkcaldy were magnificent.

It has to be questioned: snow? Too far. Admittedly snow is always quite fun, especially if havoc making, but you should know better than to have that much rainfall beforehand. Slush is never popular, it's icky and doesn't cause proper disruptions. Also, 2 degrees is a little on the chilly side. Not to be too fussy, efforts are MASSIVELY cheering, but it's a wee bit overkill just now.

Maybe less precipitation tomorrow? Would that be ok? Just tomorrow, no droughts required.

Many thanks.

Monday, 29 March 2010


No. Not a spelling mistake.

A health filled day. Nurse's appointment marked me as healthy, normal weight (with over half a stone to spare!), slightly low blood pressure. Hurrah! Full health.


Doctor prescibed me new painkilling drugs to try to reduce the other drugs, and sent me for an x ray. (Which I haven't been for yet, plan to go tomorrow, which I was told was ok). Currently awaiting endoscopy for painkiller related stomach pain. Painkillers rule my life these days. I shan't miss them when they're gone.

Yes. I know. But to wash down a cocktail of 8 different pills with a glass of Andrews is a bit, well, irksome.

I also have the cold, which is such a minor inconvenience that I keep forgetting and then being surprised that I feel rough.

But!!! There is joy!!! I must profoundly thank the weather for bringing winter back. I thought they were teasing but no! Really cold. Boots dug out again!

Supposedly getting car tomorrow...

Ha. Delivery by end of March: predicted arrival on Wednesday.

Sunday, 28 March 2010

British Stupid Time

I miss that hour. A wonderful, wonderful hour, taken from that special time of day that's either spent asleep on in quiet solitude. 2am till 3am - gone! They couldn't even take 02.30 to 03.30 so 3am didn't exist, no, oh no, it's straight - wham! - into 3am when you're nonchalantly at the relative serenity of 2am.

It's wrong, I tell you, as I tell everyone, every year.

The reason for my upset is twofold.

First, I do genuinely feel robbed. For a good while, I constantly adjust to "real" time and consider the halcyonic timing of GMT. That hour is just gone! This year it would have been spent sleeping - unusually - so *they* have taken an hour's sleep from me. Which given how much sleep I get, is Not On.

My second upset is the marking of the time of year. Summer is well and truly on its way. The days are getting longer, the temperature is rising and the insects are growing in number... it's coming. Spring, yes, nice fair weather, beautiful flowers, baby animals etc. But summer is coming and summer, mostly, sucks. Christmas is such a very very long time away!! The summer holidays are coming (erm, after the Easter holidays and summer term), I feel hot and bothered already. The days to wear a parka are gone for now. Jumpers, packed away again. Goodbye lovely boots, adieu scarves, so long faithful gloves. And my hats! Banished to the drawer of cosy things. For months and months and months on end.

Sob! Just for an extra hour of evening light. The days are "long enough" in a fortnight or so anyway, 'tis nonsense. We have lights.

Oh! A ray of sunshine amongst the gloom: longer days means less light by hateful, inadequate, colourchanging, horrible, VILE energy saving lightbulbs. It's not all bad. Just pretty miserable.

Saturday, 27 March 2010


Glorious day. Wonderful people. Happy, happy couple.

And from a completely self obsessed point of view:

I have a new dad!! I needed one of them.

So many compliments, I have been called stunning many, many times AND had my/our parenting skills admired. Impeccably behaved gorgeous children.

My mother looked beautiful and radiant; her husband is both very lucky and a wonderful addition to our family.

Sigh. Lovely, lovely.

Yes, I know. But it would feel wrong to post about anything else. Soz.

Friday, 26 March 2010

Self obsession

Disclaimer: the following is a vent of no interest to man nor beast.

It is strange. In a matter of hours, my mother, widow of 19 years, is getting married. To a very nice man who I shall be proud to consider a parent. But still, strange.

I shall be maid of honour. In a dress that I got in a fit of slenderness delusion and in which I look like a jellybaby. An aqua blue mermaid jellybaby. Next to two aqua blue bridesmaids in a non fitted dress apiece that is oh so much more forgiving.

Who designed the dresses? That'd be me.

A trip to the hairdresser today was meant to be a tidy up and have my hair ready for tomorrow. For no apparent reason, copious, copious, vast, choking amounts of hairspray were applied, which fused ever so brilliantly with the rain and wind. So, hair has needed to have been washed (3 times today!) and the length is now apparent. Before the product removal, the volume detracted from the length, now I can see it in all its lacking. This morning I had jaw length hair, which is pretty short. Now I have cheekbone length hair. Which is, erm, really short and not exactly becoming. Way too much face on display.

I shall also be the token sober person at the reception. Damned painkillers.

And so that is out of my system, sorry you got shared at, and now I can concentrate on how wonderful it is, and how wonderful the BRIDE, her whose day it is after all, shall look...

Thursday, 25 March 2010

Oh fork

Stuff leads to emotion leads to eye rubbing leads to ohmygodwhatisthis my eye is revving up for a "turn" and I need to be bridesmaid on Saturday. Preferably sans eyepatch.


But. Reliably informed emotion = drama queen so shall repress and get spots instead.

Wednesday, 24 March 2010

You've obviously got great taste in where you get your ideas from - can you give your readers any tips on how to dwvwlop bwtter taste generally?

Ah yes, now that's easy. Eat more cheese.

It has been nonscientifically proven that the consumption of cheese in relative excess is directly proportional to ability to recognise ideas and steal them.

Albert von Copy was the first to notice this phenomenon in 1765 and gave his name to the action of Alberting, later changed to being copying. He did in fact further his studies and has rough sketches of what he called a photoalberter, uncannily similar to what we know as a photocopier.

answered from
formspring question.

Tuesday, 23 March 2010


Oh, so much self importance.

It's MY blog. So neh.

Firstly: there is a formspring thing over thonder. Given the overwhelming response to anything else, I've blatantly pinched this idea from another nameless blog.

I'm not going to beg.

Secondly, go back and read the spraffle about physics, dated yesterday and we're all pretending it WAS yesterday's. All today's thought went into that. Today: vain delusion, *yesterday*: physics. Sort of.

Oh!!! Such cheek!

Monday, 22 March 2010

Natural Philosophy

I continue to be blown away by Professor Brian Cox and Wonders of the Solar System, expanding on yesterdays bletherings. Which, naturally, is being watched all at the wrong times.

So, physics? Amazing. Great. Explains everything. The most interesting science...

Or so I have been told, by those who I most admire (in real life) who care about science, namely big bro, hubby and my most favourite teacher, who taught me Biology but who confessed that his first love was for physics. I did not agree. Physics bored me. Intensely. Who cares where the ball lands? Science, yes, great. Maths, quite wonderful, endless interest in patterns and fractals and fractions and percentages and things that add up to everyday life. Further interest in algebra, geometry, calculus and things that have no bearing on much other than maths. But still, fun. Yes, really, fun. Biology? It's how we work! Chemistry: sort of like cooking, follow the recipe, get the result. Makes sense, useful to understand: Medicine. Oh yeah! Now we're talking! Blood and guts and disease and ick. Hurrah! Something to ponder to degree level!

Physics. Nope. Mental block. Where maths and physics overlap, maths and I part ways. Tedium. The fact that I am for the second time in my life studying Engineering is accidental, the physics element has been broken down to pure maths and so has overcome the mental blockage in my head.

It has been pointed out to me (on numerous occasions) that the following are all entirely to do with physics:

1) Weather
2) Astronomy
3) Engineering
4) Cars. Pretty much everything to do with cars, except the small bit that's chemistry.
5) Everything

But still, I resist, and respond with the following:

1) Weather is chaotic. La la la la la.
2) Who cares about astronomy? So, the stars and moon and what not are quite cool, and meteor showers are immense, and the solar eclipse is one of the most gobsmacking things I have ever witnessed, and comets are pretty exciting and I'd give my left arm to see the Northern Lights. I'm so not interested. Huh.
3) Maths. Maths. Maths. Engineering can all be geometry if you try hard enough.
4) I can appreciate aesthetics without understanding. No, I can. Even if that goes against everything I believe in.
5) Everything I know to be true is in fact not true if you entertain the concepts of quantum physics.

Quantum physics aside, because that is one big headmess (I get as far as the theory of relativity, which is simple enough, and then I cease to understand a thing Einstein and chums were on about: if a cat's there then it's there, or it's not, huh?)*, there is a small fact that should have smacked me in the face a very long time ago:

Pretty much everything I wonder about can be answered by physics. Some can be attributed to maths or other branches of science, but it has been said oft to me that all science is basically physics.

Which I have argued thus: I understand other sciences.

But now, wonder of wonders, Professor Brian Cox has come along and effectively smashed through my mental block. He and his wonderful programme have made all the comments made to me over the years make sense. Wonders of the Solar System is eliminating my ignorance and soothing the physics hatred I have carried for years. I get it! It's amazing! The Laws of Physics DO explain everything!

I have so much catching up to do...

*I do get Schrodinger's cat thing. I just don't like the implications on what I know to be true, so I don't like understanding it; it's easier to dismiss it as not making sense. I quite like existing when I'm not there, I'm still here. la la la la la.

Sunday, 21 March 2010


I try to like women, I do. I am one, I should at least find things in common with them. Most of my friends are women, men have that whole thing going on that can potentially complicate matters whether its actually a thing or not. But still, women always seem a bit rubbish. There are very few truly great women. Admirable women, yes, but there's always an undertone of "...for a woman" with anything they/we achieve.

Great men? Many.

Two such greatnesses have awed me today. The first, one Charlie Brooker, who wrote a piece of such magnificence that I feel slightly inclined to give up writing even a blog because I will never, ever achieve what he can with words. Damn him.

Read it here. Agree hugely and feel inferior.

The second is Professor Brian Cox, presenting at the moment as he is, "Wonders of the Solar System" . I have issues with Physics, it is generally my least favourite science (which admittedly puts it highly above most non-science, but still...) and I tend to struggle a bit with some of the concepts. Mostly: why would we care about THAT? But watching him enthuse about Physics and the solar system renders me awestruck, totally caught up with his enthusiasm, and simultaneously understanding and caring about all he talks about. But of course it is important, how could we care about anything more than the very structure and laws that make us exist? How can this man turn around all my thoughts on a subject and make me genuinely interested in a branch of science that left me cold before? Simple. He is so contagiously passionate about it all, he literally jumps up and down with excitement, and he makes me care. He makes me understand. He makes me fascinated.

Most people I admire I would fall over myself to meet in some manner. These two gentlemen, I would run in the opposite direction from due to sheer intimidation. Sigh.

Saturday, 20 March 2010


Having spent a pleasant day with my family, new and old, and then an all to brief late-afternoon with my friends, I feel content and spoilt for companionship.

And devoid of comment.


If you are reading this, which you clearly are, please comment for me. Say something. Anonymously if you like. Please?

Thanks awfully.

Friday, 19 March 2010

Very very spoilt

Today I buyed a car.
A brand new Astra.
That we can't really afford, so our shopping budget has just been halved. My budgetary skills (currently unused) will be honed.


It is a total bargain and we could theoretically sell it immediately/sometime in times of serious spenditide for a profit. And it won't try to kill me. And if it does try, it won't succeed so easily.

It's very nice. Silver, not Metro Blue or black. But silver! Looks clean! Doesn't show up chips! Actually suits the Astra!

Yes. I have previously been very rude about silver cars, but am not stupid enough to pay £6000 for non silver and if silver's all that's left, silver it is. And it does look nice, look at some other silver Astra that isn't mine:

My car will be with me by next weekend. Spanking new car.

Another Vauxhall. Another nail in the coffin on car owner respectability. But it's cheaper than a Hyundai and it's not a Hyundai.

That last statement was brought to you by The Obvious.

Mine! Mine! Mine!
Lucky girl.

Thursday, 18 March 2010

Ban the aged

There are certain things you do that you consider to be perfectly safe. Safe for your children, you can relax. Say, for example, walking on a pavement.

On 2 occasions recently, very old people - who quite definitely should not be driving a car - have crashed their cars quite severely into parts of walkways and remarkably neither incident caused any injury. But they could have, should anyone have been on the part of WALKWAY that was driven onto, which is quite terrifying if you choose to dwell on it.

Incident 1, car lost control and reversed fastly down a hill into a lamppost on the non-kerb side of the pavement. Anyone on that pavement would have been seriously injured or, if they were 3ft tall, killed. Turns out lady in question accelerated instead of braking when she realised she was in reverse and hence moving backwards.

Incident 2, car was in a car park at a congested section that it is impossible to drive at more than 5mph in. Swerved to avoid cyclists that gave him/her a fright and managed to mount the pavement and upended a solid post. Which requires acceleration: not usually the recommended thing to do when in perceived danger.

Brakes. Brakes. Not the same as accelerator.

How is it legal for people who are clearly not safe on the road to be allowed to drive? Don't you have to do something once you're over 135?


Meantime my elderly car has decided braking is optional and it is a little disconcerting to find oneself praying for stoppage each time the brakes are applied.

More elderly joy: ancient dishwasher keeps fusing the sockets and dumping water all over the kitchen. Engineer booked for Wednesday to do nothing. He is, naturally, rather old.

Actually, my dishwasher is only 4.5 years old. It's just crap.

Proving that age is not a satisfactory measure of usefulness and capability should be the key.

Uh oh. We're all scuppered.

Wednesday, 17 March 2010

It's the Mr Men Show!

Oh dear. Oh dear. Despite the innate wrongness of the Mr Men Show, it's, erm, oh no, it really is, good. Yes. Very much so. Bonkers, non shouty and really very amusing.

Totally, totally (slightly) unconnected to the original Mr Men, other than some of the characters being the same and an acknowledgement of the late, great Roger Hargreaves.

Aside: I should listen to that Radio 4 podcast about the Mr Men. I may be reiterating points the only person on the planet that cares about this has already heard. Ah well. This is not original, it's the observations of someone that hasn't a clue what anyone else thinks.

Back (vaguely) to point:
The Mr Men Show is set in a place called Dillydale, all the Mr Men and Little Misses live there and interact with one another. While there was interaction between the original characters, they lived in their own lands - happyland, loudland etc, and they lived amongst people. Although in the most recent issues by Adam Hargreaves, there are several Mr Men all living in one place. So, dunno. Move with the times. Or tomes as my dyslexic thumb decided, which would seem a difficult way to move really.

Mr Lazy is not a pink blob, he's a green sluglike shape with a floppy cap. Mr Nosey is completely the wrong shade of green, and is always, always with Mr Small. (Mr Nosey is my new favourite, for reasons that may become apparent). And Mr Strong is not square, he's all "I workout a lot" shaped and he wears a weightlifters belt. Like the original Mr Strong would need a belt...

The voices are quite probably not PC in their stereotyping, but they are amusingly apt.

Mr Happy has a very jolly Tony Blackburn voice.
Mr Stubborn is of course Scottish
Mr Grumpy is countryside old man - Cornish/Yorkshire? you know the voice.
Mr Messy is Scouse and should really be wearing a tracksuit.
Mr Rude is French. No comment.
Mr Scatterbrained has a American clown type voice that is exactly like some entertainer whose name/identity eludes me.
Mr Nosey is a Geordie which makes him entirely loveable, having the second best accent in existence. The other accents I can't quite place, but Little Miss Chatterbox sounds excitedly chattery, Mr Lazy sounds lazy, Mr Strong speaks like you'd expect someone who wears a weightlifting belt to sound.

I'm sold. I'm disloyal. I'm sorry.

Although I did have a sneaky read of Original Mr Men "Mr Tickle and the Dragon" and was slightly disturbed by the fact that most of the the residents had their house burnt down. Most advanced from the stories of old, so if it's good enough for Adam Hargreaves, it's good enough for me.

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

A Matter of Questionable Taste

I have a problem. I claim to like cars, to know about them and how they work. I recognise a Good Car, I think, but keep gravitating towards Vauxhall.

I like the way they drive. There, I said it.

Admittedly, an Aston Martin would probably be better to drive, but the chances of that happening ever are slimmer than a very slim thing. Other cars that mortals can drive just aren't as driveable as Vauxhalls. Apart from Volvos (RIP Best Ever Car), but they're really Fords now, and I Don't Like Fords. Not being snobby, I am gravitating towards the evil GM after all, but I just like driving Vauxhalls and I don't like driving/looking at/being around Fords*.

I know!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's a serious problem. But I drive other (better) cars, then get back into my Vauxhall and everything's ruined. Because the Vauxhall drives properly and other cars just seem a bit...wrong.

Aaaaaaaargh. Jeremy Clarkson will never love me. When I'm starry enough to be a Star in a Reasonably Priced Car, my car history will be revealed as Vauxhall Corsa, Volvo V40 (broken by forgetting how to drive), Vauxhall Vectra and any other Vauxhalls that I accidentally buy in the meantime. He will scoff. People that know how to drive and care about driving don't drive Vauxhalls. They may drive - sigh - Fords, but they don't drive Vauxhalls, which are for idiots that don't know anything about cars. And for people who used to know about cars before they developed Vauxhallitis. The only known cure is to purchase a Monaro, then you will be forgiven the Vauxhallness.

The good news is that Vauxhall are currently giving away free** brand new Astras!!!!!!!!!!! The other flabbergasting news is that, this is true, I swear, Vauxhall now do better than average kit. Yes, you did read that correctly. The one being given away has a full quota of pretty much everything you'd want, unless you really want cruise control. Even rain sensitive wipers which I want badly in a truly vacuous manner.

This is the current object of my desire:

Fwoarrr. Like seriously, I don't think "that is a nice practical car which would service my requirements at a reasonable price". No. I think "omigod, that's sooooo amazing, I totally have to have that exact very car and it's so totally lovely and has rain sensitive wipers!!!!!!!!!"
Because I forget that I am not 12 and that I do/did actually know a bit about cars. Unless it's got a Vauxhall badge on it in which case I turn into a dribbling lusty fool that can't see past pretty colours.

I must go and visit the Volvo dealer. There has to be a way out of this for me.

* many people have very nice Fords. They're very good, I believe. Just not for me, the Vauxhall fanboy.
**almost free. Half price. Supposedly. They've got a new Astra so they're flinging the old one.

Monday, 15 March 2010

Happy meal

Fantasy dinner guests
- in fantasy dining room in fantasy house as current dining arrangements allow for 2 guests

Marcus Brigstocke. Because he eloquently states what I really think. Mostly.
Andrew Collins. Because he's Andrew Collins.
India Knight. Because I want to be her when I grow up.
Chandler Bing. Fictional? Pshaw. It's not real anyway.
Sasha Baron Cohen and Isla Fisher. Because they're bonkers.
Dara O Briain. Because he's funny and clever.
Chris Addison. Ditto.
David Mitchell. He's just ace.
Robert Webb. Because Mitchell needs Webb.

And to even things up, wives are invited so it's not all men, and because people tend to like to take their partners to things like dinner. India Knight has to marry David Mitchell. And all my dearest friends are invited too (my, what a big house I shall have) because I'd want them there too. Geography not an issue, my riches come from my perfection of teleportation. The nanny can take care of anyone's children alongside mine.

The menu? Hell, it's a fantasy, I'll get caterers in and have a splendiferous array of foods to cater for all tastes, including many, many types of cheese. And magnificent party bags for all. Haribo aplenty.

La la la.

Sunday, 14 March 2010


Ahhhhhh. In my current chilled out state, attributed by grumpy pants to pain medication, attributed by myself to having achieved a higher level of spirituality and appreciation of life as a result of my accident (ahem), events such as Mothers' Day are smashing.

Present: a new handbag (as demanded). Presents always nice in a material world.
Company: my lovely hubby, my adorable children, my wonderful mother and my splendid almost-stepfather.

Food: not just food, this was a Marks & Spencer Mothers' Day Roast. (With roasted butternut squash and chilli soup made by me just to demonstrate I can actually cook still). Admittedly the chicken needed roasting, but I don't consider that cooking and find it slightly baffling that anyone can't roast a chicken. Bung in an onion, "baste" with strips of bacon, pop in oven at 200 for 40 min per kilo (or 20 min per lb) + 20 min. Remove. Cut. Eat. Serve with microwaved veg and roasted preprepared roast potatoes. Don't drink the wine.

I have a surplus of wine. It is tempting me greatly. MMmmmmm.

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Summertime Blues

I miss winter already. I still feel sad when I look out the window each morning and see colours instead of white. The temperature is nice and the jacketary requirements are perfect, but the presence of fair weather, aside from the reappearance of INSECTS, means the joyous peacefulness of winter is gone.

It's hinting at Spring and people are going nuts.

Sun is out = must be outside.
Must garden, must build random stuff using saws/drills/hammers outside, must have children outside at all times.

It's very noisy. I don't like noisiness. I particularly don't like the noise of other children, especially during my halcyonic nursery time. There seems to be a myth that opening the back door and booting kids into the garden is an adequate childcare method, scant regard is played to whether they have anything to do whilst outside and some boredom relievers are damnably noisy.

The one horror that remains to be unleashed on my poor unsuspecting ears is the unrelenting noise pollution that is lawnmowing. James Dyson, please, a quiet lawnmower? And people, really, grass doesn't grow that fast. In fact, why not consider astroturfing your lawn? Or have a nice Zen garden with no grass.

Sorted. No more grass = no more lawnmowers. Outlaw garden lawns! Parks can have grass, I never hear their mowers. And they have proper mowers.

281 sleeps till Christmas...

Friday, 12 March 2010


Last ever assignment posted. Gone. Bye bye.

(not including dissertation to be done after summer. Or exams next month).

Obviously, studies have been unsuspended. It still hurts - lots -to sit at a computer, but I've got a sofa/laptop thing that works as long as I break often, and 2010 is the year for Getting On With Things.

Painkiller dependence to be addressed later...

Thursday, 11 March 2010

The madness of others

Taking the children to school is an odd experience. Some of the other parents are friendly, some are not, most are shy and perfectly nice when you talk at them. One, who shares my love of trains and whose wee boy is my two's bestest chum, tells me I am the only parent ever to have spoken to him. (It seems dads are scary. My other half certainly hates feeling like a pariah). But everyone seems very nice and not actually as scary as they seemed last year when we were the new guys.

Today I met the most friendly parent (grandparent actually) ever, who told me she was a gypsy, because like, I need to know the social demographic of everyone I converse with. Her I met for the very first time, which for her seemed appropriate to ask me if I was pregnant, then follow that up with, oh it's just you really look pregnant (thanks, I spent the last year becoming not overweight and how the hell can I look pregnant in a belted mac?) followed up with a discussion about twins and a request to see my caesarean scar (er, let me see, how about: not on your life, you freak!!)

And was I foreign? (no, I just pronounce all my consonants)

Cross examination as to my exact plans (go to baker, buy roll, go home, fill roll, eat roll) which was most amusing somehow. A roll? Heh heh. What a wit I am!

After everyone that I said hello to, "do you know them?" (no, I too speak to complete strangers) and when one was my approximately 20 year old neighbour, "ooh, lucky you". (He was most pleased to discover this).

No, I'm not nice, I didn't ever claim to be. Don't speak to me. Unless you're a mad freak, in which case join the queue.

Wednesday, 10 March 2010

Oh yeah?

So, lots in one day. Yeah?
One per day. Not one each day.
Not the same. I done been busy.


Tuesday, 9 March 2010


The trouble with going back to studying is that there's work to be done. And the trouble with being all brave and stoical is that pain that hasn't gone away doesn't go away just because you decide to get on with it. No, it gets a bit worse. But the trouble with acknowledging that is that nothing will ever happen if you wait for everything to be right.

The trouble with procrastination is that the last minute becomes very stressful...

Monday, 8 March 2010


Having witnessed the joyous transformation of Mr Quiet on his escape from Loudland into Happyland, where he could be as quiet as he liked, it's hard not to wonder at what life would be like in Happyland.

If everyone is happy all the time, how does that work? Does everything change everytime you get complacent or if you realise your heart's desire wasn't all that great after all? And if what makes you happy makes another miserable, what happens then?

Or do we get a better nature and learn to be content with our lot. Happiness is liking what is yours to like?

That sounds nice.

Sunday, 7 March 2010

6 music is salad cream

You remember? Heinz announced that they were discontinuing salad cream. Outrage!!! Ho and lebold: salad cream makes a massive resurgence and becomes available in all new styles.

I have my suspicions about 6 Music. Much loved, and look, it's being "cancelled" so all the popular people that everyone listens to are campaigning to save it. Everyone is talking about 6 Music. Everyone loves 6 Music.

I never listen to 6 Music because I listen to music in the car. I would, if I got it in the car. So I feel a bit grumpy that I don't get to listen to it, and I listen to radio 2 instead. So if they moved the good stuff onto Radio 2, I'd be happy. Sorry.

But, the BBC have a duty to provide new technologies, so to have a desirable station on digital only should drive forward the interest in getting digital radio. Which most people have. At home. Not on the move. If only people cared enough to perfect mobile digital radio. A campaign to reiterate our love for digital stations. Aha!

Mark my words, there'll be squeezable 6 music out any day. Cancelled, my arse.

Saturday, 6 March 2010

Life begins at 40

As I approached 30 I felt very old. My youth was gone! Sob! All these things I hadn't done!

On the day of my 30th birthday it occurred to me that I was only 30. How marvellous. I then promptly became a mother and so there was no question of being young any more.

Later there was the endurance of 33. A terrible age, not young, not old, not early or mid thirties. A horrible age to be. But I survived, 34 passed and now at 35 I feel totally content about my age. I accept that I'm officially an adult, that there's a whole generation younger than me that see me as an old person. I don't mind. I don't hope to get ID'd any more. I like being young enough and old enough at the same time.

And I eagerly await 40. 40's going to be great! By 40 I'll have my transportation career underway. By 40 I'll have 9 year olds that are relatively independent but still my little boys. At 40 I'm going to get a digital SLR and spend time taking good photos. By 40 I'll have a car I don't resent. By 40 we'll be in a house not a flat.

Yup. 40's going to be a tough birthday, when none of the above apply. But for now, it's a pleasant thought...

Friday, 5 March 2010

Five Days

How pleasant, an enjoyable 5 part drama and actually managing to watch it.

Most dischuffed that day 3 was day 8 and then they went onto day 38 and day 102 or something. Ok, so it fitted the story but 5 consecutive days would have been tidier. If boring.

This was mostly intriguing, although they did hold your hand with any relevant lines, and repeat them repeatedly until you definitely knew they Really Mattered. Suranne Jones and David Morrissey were very good, which isnt something I say often. Depressing stuff though and, as I have often thought due to the actress' frequent appearances, how can a person be called Pooky?

Reviews: not my forte.

Thursday, 4 March 2010

Finding Maemo

Apple are scumbags. They really are. Suing everyone else, even though they pinched stuff from Nokia themselves. Huh. Not content with the fact that NOTHING comes in the box and no add on is compatible with two devices, they provide a mega phone with blatantly obvious features missing so they can add them to future products. Diddy camera. No MMS. Pah.

Nokia are marvellous. They made phones what they are. They don't compromise, they didn't like Android so they produced Maemo. The N900 is a beast indeed. When my contract runs out in May I should show my support for the mighty Nokia and give no more pennies to the evil Apple. Either go for the N900 or accept that I'm skint and get myself a very inexpensive and does everything I need X6.


The X6 is Symbian. Old news. And Grumpypants IS getting a free Nexus One. The N900 is the first Maemo device. Danger danger. New Nokias tend to be buggy. And there's very, very few apps. Which is the biggest selling point of the iPhone. I likes my apps. I likes my iPhone. It's lovely. It doesn't do all the things it should but it has splendid apps and I love it. It is my baby.

I know. I dithered and hmmed and ended up with an iPhone 3G. I'm going to end up with an iPhone 4. I know I am. And if I'm selling my soul and giving my money to the Evil Man, then I may as well hanker after an iMac some more.

Bad me.

Wednesday, 3 March 2010

Free stuff from Google??

Android developers who have 3.5 stars or more and who have 5000+ downloads are to be given a free phone from Google. In the EU it would be a Nexus 1.


My pet android developer - everyone has one of them, no? - got very, very excited and then very, very skeptical.

Dunno. Can't go to sleep until Google say yay or nay.

The premise of "too good to be true" does apply and there's iffiness all round. Although it's signed by Google and whatnot, it's in Google sites and apparently those who fill out the form get told it will be entered in a spreadsheet.

Should it be phishing, then the information given out would be: name, address, google receipt number - which means something to Android developers - and that's about it. Whoop de whoo! Major identity theft alert! Supposing the receipt thing is useful, then Google will be aware.

No big deal.

Google do this kind of thing, and there's not that many apps with 3.5 stars or more, because, well, there's not that many apps.

People purporting to be Google/in touch with Google say it's legit. I have no idea who they are, jumping on bandwagons and all as I am.

So at this moment, signs point to: yes, fill in the form!!! Grumpy pants went to sleep grumbling about it being a trick by O2 or whoever will carry the Nexus to create misery, "I don't have a Nexus :-( poor me, sigh" because he will not be happy until he has the phone he fleetingly believed was to be his.

It may be. Awful lot of effort for minimal data. Dunno, duncare.

But most things do prove to be too good to be true, and it's not even like they're giving away an iPhone (or a Nokia), it's one of the Other ones.

Saisenko Nokia N900. Cure me of my devotion to the Evil Ones.

Mwah. Still love you phoney.

Tuesday, 2 March 2010


Pleasing things:

Five Days. A five part drama over five days. Usual BBC1 fodder, but intriguing and well done. Watched part one a day late, as is the way. Liked lots.

Eggs. Of the chocolate variety. Most of the time chocolate is fairly meh, but put it in an egg shape and woohoo! Greatness! Creme Eggs and Mini Eggs are pure evil deliciousness.

Scotland. We don't want tax raising powers, thanks all the same. We have tablet. More on this at a more social hour.

Sleep. I should get some.

Monday, 1 March 2010


Today's titter at the people found on the Internet is brought to you in this comment within a review, of an iPhone app:

"it needs to go away, take a good look at itself and come back massively improved".

Heh heh.

Too tired for more.