It's that time again

Woo. Autumn has officially started, yesterday in fact.

This makes me happy. It makes me happy every year as we rid ourselves of  the insect-fest that is late summer and the utterly insane declaration of "it's an Indian Summer" every time the sun shines for more than ten minutes on any day after the official Last Barbeque of the Year has taken place. And of course that is coupled with the perpetual moan of having to put the heating on due to the half a degree drop of the ambient internal temperature.

On that topic, I do embrace the onset of winter slightly more favourably in our nice brand new double  glazed, un-drafty house. The last three winters were spent in a drafty, cold, damp, untouched-for-a-full-century Victorian upper flat, which really tested my love of the cold. It turns out I don't actually love being properly cold. I have a lower room temperature tolerance of 19 degrees, it seems, and while it is nice to be able to wear smashing jumpers, it isn't nice to have to wear several at once, at all times.  This is a house so cold you have to take a few layers off when you go outside.

But still, here we are.

Turns out the first day of Autumn, which I'd never heard being considered before yesterday, is the autumnal equinox. Which in turn transpires to be, not a crazy and arbitrary Pagan thing, but in fact the time when the equator is bang in line with the sun. So everywhere has the same length of day. Just at different times according to when they are on the planet. There's another day, very very soon, I think it's September 25th, where the hours of daylight and night are equal, and that is called the equilux in a very satisfying instance of nomenclature.

This is a GREAT time of year. Halloween is coming, I have new boots that I'm able to wear without my feet melting, and it's almost time to forget about brushing my hair altogether as I can wear a hat without looking totally mad.

(That last bit does depend rather on the choice of hat)

I have agreed with Little Miss Christmas that we won't start the Christmas countdown until Halloween is over. Luckily she loves Halloween. We're all set. We're pretty much having a party. It's
Very Exciting and nobody will expect a barbecue. Woohoo.

Of course, Strictly has started, and that's the official start of the countdown to counting down to Christmas...

And the news that isn't is...

So.
I love my job. It's ace. I've been there a month, the rot will set in soon I'm sure. For now: happy chapette. Free time is now zilch, as I've gone all domesticated and joined a cleaning cult.

Explanations may be forthcoming. They may also not be.

Boys are all settled in at school and being ever so grown up. And astonishingly clever. Well, not THAT astonishing, being mine and all, but impressive all the same.

New most needed: a Kindle.
Yes, I have the Kindle app. I like. It's not so kind on the eyes. Yes, an iPad would probably be better. They cost a LOT more and are less handbag friendly. Oh, and the Kindle isn't made by Apple and so it may still work after a year. Grrrr. Ongoing 3G trauma. The general solution appears to be: upgrade to an iPhone 4.

I quite like the Sony Ericsson X10 Mini. It would do my head in due to its lack of iPhoneness within about an hour, I think, but a concerted perusal of phones yielded but one contender for anything beyond "meh": the X10 Mini. Not Pro, which is less Mini and loses the appeal. Keyboard Schmeyboard. If it gets Froyo, and I am such an Apple deserter for even knowing what that is.

I think my 3G operating issues are punishment for siding with the Androids. iOS 4.01 was unusable. 4.1 was hunky dory for a bit. Now: a bit (big bit) SLOWWWWW. But usuable, if sigh inducing. Number of sighs is directly proportional to desire for an N8. Oops. I know.

So. Therein lies all anyone would need to know about the Kindle.

I do like books. Lots and lots and lots: they have words in them. I like to go back to them as and when I feel like it. I have 1000s of them, and that's after serious culling (to charity, I will not bin a book, not even a Michael Moore). They take up a lot of room and have the following failings:
They're not that easy to hold.

If you want a book asap, you have to get a giant format (hardback or pointlessly big paperback). If you want to take such book anywhere while reading it, you need a small suitcase to carry it in.

They go yellow.

They take up a lot of room.

They cost more in print format than in ebook format.
Yes. That is correct.


All hail Amazon. Which we have been doing since ever they started but really, huzzah! The Kindle is (probably) a marvel.

Other reasons to love Amazon: Universal Wish Lists. Marvellously fantastic for deluded moments. You Never Know.
And, more realistically, useful for spouses who have "no idea".

This is (almost) the best time of year. Digging out warm clothes, dark evenings, the anticipation of Halloween and "goodness ME the shops have got Christmas in very early this year. Of course, I've started buying already..." and a stupendously grand TV schedule. Autumn TV rocks. I love it all, that fizzing almost about to think about being winter time of year. Brilliant.

I am particularly jubilant as I wore my down filled jacket today. I heart that.

Voici. Every thought I've had since last time I thought. All for you to enjoy.

A bientot. It is time for the sleeping.

A day in the life

It's Halloween. Once upon another lifetime, this used to be kinda exciting, getting dressed up and partaking in some sort of Halloween related japes. Now we're all a bit older and it's a bit old hat, rousing from the dead, scaring people, avoiding guising teenagers etc. Some of my friends don't even bother being undead any more, it's just not like it used to be when we were newly dead. I mean, there's the whole choosing a look, planning what to do. With all the genuinely undead, also known as alive people, dressed up like witches and ghosts and tarts, it's relatively easy to slip in amongst a crowd, and if the make up's not so good, looking a bit pale is ok, you just fit right in.

Ah, I just received a message from the girls, it's all go after all. Marvellous, I've spent all day getting ready. Head? check. Flesh? check. Skin? check. Make up? check. Hair? Cloak? check. Ups, nearly forgot: feet. And shoes, mustn't forget shoes. Damned people that die of natural causes, they don't have to remember things so much, everything's just there with just the flesh and skin needing popped over the top.

I hope we don't just go for the graveyard again, that's really pretty boring. Just sitting there staring at passers by with empty eyes, it's deeply unsatisfying. And I'm not so keen on the revenge ones, it's a bit gruesome sometimes, especially if they go for the head. I'm a bit squeamish myself, which is a bit ironic considering what happened to me and all, but I just find it a bit distasteful. No, I prefer good old fashioned scaring, stepping out of the shadows and doing the staring thing right in someone's face is so much more fun than just sitting there staring away. Walking right up to someone silently then breathing down their neck usually gets the right level of spookiness, or maintaining a distance and matching them step for step, stopping when they stop, disappearing into the shadows, again and again, until the last time, not disappearing and laughing as I look into their eyes with my dead and glassy eyes. I like doing the appearing thing, maybe next year if the girls aren't up for it I'll join the majority and just go for the invisible march at midnight, the moment when all the undead walk together once more and all the world stands still as a chill passes over every living heart. And of course, there's always that moment when He appears, to add to our number and take away...




that breath you're holding.

In my head

I wish I didn't have a long track record of being so rubbish at job interviews. Tomorrow I have a telephone interview, so I've rapidly achieved maximum insecurity. Last year I sailed the telephone interview, I am really nervous for this one. Trouble is, if I do badly tomorrow I think I will just wither away in an attempt not to pollute the world with potent inadequacy, and if I do well, I will have to have a real interview, for which I will be in a state of genuine psychosis. The joy, I get another chance to be called monotonous and negative. No, I don't know why I've reapplied either. Oh yes, that would be because of a severe lack of weekend jobs, I remember now.

Aaaaaaargh.

Andrew Collins appears to have stopped blogging because he's upset. This is awful if it is the case, partly because I really enjoy his blogs, and mostly because he totally doesn't deserve to be upset. I hope he is just busy.

Aaaaaaargh.

And it seems I won't be needing a costume to scare folk this Halloween, my natural look will suffice. Hurrah.

Aaaaaaargh.