I've started to compile a list of 101 things I am to complete in 1001 days. This is hard! I have got to 64: complete this list. I cannot think of 101 things I need/want to do. No. 65: kick self up backside. No. 66: Find imagination.
New blog to detail this (potentially failurific) attempt.
Ho hum.
Monday, 18 August 2008
Sunday, 17 August 2008
CNPS update
I now have 19. Standing in Tesco car park, loading my shopping into the boot, a 19 drives past. Hurrah! All I need to do now is to come up with some ruse to go to Asda to go past the garage that has a 20 in it. Or I could just say "I'm going to drive across town to look at a numberplate". He knows I'm bonkers.
CNPS clearly stands for COMPULSIVE Number Plate Spotting.
CNPS clearly stands for COMPULSIVE Number Plate Spotting.
Saturday, 16 August 2008
Yikes!
There's a new milk moustache poster out. The boy in it is absolutely gorgeous and I thought I'd find out who he was so at least when I drive off the road I know who was responsible.
(this is almost as bad as Amir Khan...)
AAAAIIIIEEEE. He's Nick Hoult. You'd probably know him from being in About a Boy. As the kid. He's also in Skins apparently and is now the grand old age of 19.
I feel dirty.
Hello
Pondering, as I often do, the meaning of words, this evening I got to thinking about the origins of the word "hello". Specifically I was thinking how bizarre the word "hiya" is, one which I often use. Really, it's an entirely meaningless word. So I used good old Google and found various possible explanations. One was that the word was taken partly from the French and was originally "ho la!" meaning "stop! attention! here!". Others are that it is taken from Old English "whole be thou", which doesn't make a lot of sense to me or "hail thou" which is from the bible and would seem to make most sense of all given the popularity of the bible. The telephone popularised the word and theories for this vary from the (bizarre) reckoning that you had to holler down the phone, so you would start a conversation with "holler!" which developed into hello. (I find this unlikely as well, you don't start a conversation these days with "talk!" which would be the equivalent) to the suggestion that the combination of sounds in "hello" are not harsh, tend to be hard to shout and are clear, so they worked well as a greeting. I'm quite sure you can say "hello" aggressively however, or despondently, nervously, chirpily, cheekily etc. Hmm. Say them in your head, I'm sure you'll agree. "Hi" is pretty much just a diminutive of "hello" and "hiya" is quite possibly a diminutive of "how are you?".
So there you go. I answer the phone with "hello?" followed by "hi" when I identify the caller, which was made clear to me when parodied by my sons both picking up play phones and saying "hello, hi, mmm, ok, bye". I was aware of ending virtually all calls with "ok, bye" but I didn't realise I followed the same wording every time I started a call. Better than my mother who says "hello?" in a slightly nervous tone, followed by "oooh, hellllooooo" if it's one of her cronies.
Other words that struck me from nowhere were "passport", which presumably comes from passing through ports, and seagull, which is blatantly obviously a gull that lives by the sea. These didn't cause much thought however, more of a "where does that come from... oh yeah".
CNPS - still need 19.
So there you go. I answer the phone with "hello?" followed by "hi" when I identify the caller, which was made clear to me when parodied by my sons both picking up play phones and saying "hello, hi, mmm, ok, bye". I was aware of ending virtually all calls with "ok, bye" but I didn't realise I followed the same wording every time I started a call. Better than my mother who says "hello?" in a slightly nervous tone, followed by "oooh, hellllooooo" if it's one of her cronies.
Other words that struck me from nowhere were "passport", which presumably comes from passing through ports, and seagull, which is blatantly obviously a gull that lives by the sea. These didn't cause much thought however, more of a "where does that come from... oh yeah".
CNPS - still need 19.
Rail news
The construction of the Pan House Railway was today interrupted shortly past the Lesser Bedroom, causing undue problems and the eventual abandonment of the Bedroom to Bedroom Transhallway Express.
After negotiations surrounding the deployment of resources to provide a small Hallway Circular, construction was moved to the Central Living Room. A large Living Room Circle service was commenced, with engines Thomas and James both leading packed trains. Lack of foresight led to the tragic collision forever to be remembered as the Television Pass disaster of 2008.
Following an investigation into the causes of Television Pass, planners decided to move toward a dual line system with one providing a service to the South Living Room area, and the other larger line serving the busy Central Line. Satisfied at the completion, the work experience constructor took a vacation on the Island of Sofar leaving the Chief Constructor and overseer to monitor progress. Disaster struck once more as immense forces derailed the South Living Room service, lifting the coaches clear of the track and leaving only the engine behind, described by the Chief Constructor as "the worst disaster since Television Pass". The operator of the South Living Room service at this time retired from railway operations and took up a position with Space Shuttle management. The operator of the Central Line continues his post but is having difficulty with reversing and at this moment all services in the area have been cancelled for the foreseeable future, with the possible replacement of the entire area with a road network.
After negotiations surrounding the deployment of resources to provide a small Hallway Circular, construction was moved to the Central Living Room. A large Living Room Circle service was commenced, with engines Thomas and James both leading packed trains. Lack of foresight led to the tragic collision forever to be remembered as the Television Pass disaster of 2008.
Following an investigation into the causes of Television Pass, planners decided to move toward a dual line system with one providing a service to the South Living Room area, and the other larger line serving the busy Central Line. Satisfied at the completion, the work experience constructor took a vacation on the Island of Sofar leaving the Chief Constructor and overseer to monitor progress. Disaster struck once more as immense forces derailed the South Living Room service, lifting the coaches clear of the track and leaving only the engine behind, described by the Chief Constructor as "the worst disaster since Television Pass". The operator of the South Living Room service at this time retired from railway operations and took up a position with Space Shuttle management. The operator of the Central Line continues his post but is having difficulty with reversing and at this moment all services in the area have been cancelled for the foreseeable future, with the possible replacement of the entire area with a road network.
Friday, 15 August 2008
Today's brain seepage
CNPS is going well, I'm on 19 now. Only 981 to go. It takes up a spectacularly large amount of my consciousness at the moment, I wonder how long this will last. At the moment I have fond memories of spotting most of the numbers, I can't see that I'll end up with 999 distinct memories. 17 was good, as it belongs to a neighbour and I knew that all I had to do was to return home and I'd see it. 18 I saw today and this evening, I am ashamed to say, I drove to a friend's house as her registration is a 19. However, she lives on a cul de sac and as I drove in, I realised that I would have to virtually drive up her driveway to see her car and that could potentially be really embarrassing. So, no 19 and I have a 20 lined up at a garage ready to be seen in its time. Grr. When I get to 51, I want it to be my car, so if I see a 50, I'll have to immediately stop and get out to look at mine before I see another one, being as how they're rather common. Or does it count that I can see the interior of the car?
Yes, ok, I am doing most of my spotting while driving. Stand by for some idiotic crash soon...
I am about to colour my hair. I have spent vast amounts of time and money trying to replicate my own colour because I am distinctly grey and I don't like it. I like it even less because my 41 year old brother has little or no grey, and my 68 year old mother has but a handful. I have been disguising mine since I was 23. After not dying it for a year or so whilst pregnant I had decided to leave it and just accept it, but I got fed up with everyone asking me if I'd had highlights. Yes, of course, white highlights are cool, are they not? The trouble with having dark brown hair is that is impossible to mimic. Just brown gives the impression of having coated your hair with brown shoe polish, yet anything with a non-flat colour is either virtually black, or reddish. I look anaemic with the black option, so I have no choice but to be kind of auburn. Cappuccino, I think it's called, by Garnier Nutrisse, is the closest I can find. Davina McCall uses it, so they lead me to believe, but they also tell me she uses the multi highlights, until you read the small print that says her hair is styled with natural extensions. Which I'm guessing is where the highlights are... I tried the highlights, I looked like a tiger. Not a good look.
The reason for the diaryesque nature at present is that I am reading Richard Herring's blog, dating back to the start in Nov 2002, which makes me think in a bloggy sort of manner. I am now in Jan 2003, not very far in, and it's really interesting. Like an autobiography but including the everyday thoughts that would never make it in a book. It's astonishing to read how someone as clever, funny and well liked as he can be so self doubting sometimes and it does also make the mind boggle when thinking of people that have such fame and attention when they are neither clever nor funny (or indeed talented). It does also hit home the vast differences between people that are in the public eye and people who aren't. Day to day, life may seem the same, but it's not. A blog is a classic example, I am writing this for me and for a handful of friends who may or may not read it, I can pretty much say anything and not worry much about who reads it. Someone who is famous doesn't have that luxury. And I don't think that really is a remotely good example of the differences at all, but it's an example and I'm sticking with it.
I have recently read autobiographies of Russell Brand, Jason Donovan and Richard Hammond (hmm, can you spot the criteria for my reading? *blush*) and the first two both strike home the fragility of fame and the fickleness of being adored. Different for each as Jason Donovan was a heart throb in the 80s, while Russell Brand was at the height of his adoration at the time of writing his book. Interestingly, Jason's book shows an entirely likeable side to him, whereas it's difficult to like Russell in his book. Richard Hammond on the other hand is entirely refreshing on the "I'm just me, I have a cool job" front and he does seem to be entirely unaffected by the fact that half the population of the world think he's gorgeous.
Final rambling thought: I must add David Mitchell to my list of great people. He's brilliant, I think I love him. Really.
Fickle, moi?
Yes, ok, I am doing most of my spotting while driving. Stand by for some idiotic crash soon...
I am about to colour my hair. I have spent vast amounts of time and money trying to replicate my own colour because I am distinctly grey and I don't like it. I like it even less because my 41 year old brother has little or no grey, and my 68 year old mother has but a handful. I have been disguising mine since I was 23. After not dying it for a year or so whilst pregnant I had decided to leave it and just accept it, but I got fed up with everyone asking me if I'd had highlights. Yes, of course, white highlights are cool, are they not? The trouble with having dark brown hair is that is impossible to mimic. Just brown gives the impression of having coated your hair with brown shoe polish, yet anything with a non-flat colour is either virtually black, or reddish. I look anaemic with the black option, so I have no choice but to be kind of auburn. Cappuccino, I think it's called, by Garnier Nutrisse, is the closest I can find. Davina McCall uses it, so they lead me to believe, but they also tell me she uses the multi highlights, until you read the small print that says her hair is styled with natural extensions. Which I'm guessing is where the highlights are... I tried the highlights, I looked like a tiger. Not a good look.
The reason for the diaryesque nature at present is that I am reading Richard Herring's blog, dating back to the start in Nov 2002, which makes me think in a bloggy sort of manner. I am now in Jan 2003, not very far in, and it's really interesting. Like an autobiography but including the everyday thoughts that would never make it in a book. It's astonishing to read how someone as clever, funny and well liked as he can be so self doubting sometimes and it does also make the mind boggle when thinking of people that have such fame and attention when they are neither clever nor funny (or indeed talented). It does also hit home the vast differences between people that are in the public eye and people who aren't. Day to day, life may seem the same, but it's not. A blog is a classic example, I am writing this for me and for a handful of friends who may or may not read it, I can pretty much say anything and not worry much about who reads it. Someone who is famous doesn't have that luxury. And I don't think that really is a remotely good example of the differences at all, but it's an example and I'm sticking with it.
I have recently read autobiographies of Russell Brand, Jason Donovan and Richard Hammond (hmm, can you spot the criteria for my reading? *blush*) and the first two both strike home the fragility of fame and the fickleness of being adored. Different for each as Jason Donovan was a heart throb in the 80s, while Russell Brand was at the height of his adoration at the time of writing his book. Interestingly, Jason's book shows an entirely likeable side to him, whereas it's difficult to like Russell in his book. Richard Hammond on the other hand is entirely refreshing on the "I'm just me, I have a cool job" front and he does seem to be entirely unaffected by the fact that half the population of the world think he's gorgeous.
Final rambling thought: I must add David Mitchell to my list of great people. He's brilliant, I think I love him. Really.
Fickle, moi?
Another great
I forgot to mention that Justin Fletcher should be knighted and worshipped by all. Not only does he make disabilities and sign language acceptable and accessible by small children, but he entertains brilliantly also. For "Justin Fletcher Sings Nursery Rhymes" I shall love him forever.
From wiki:
3575 people signed a petition calling on the current Prime Minister, Gordon Brown to give Justin an OBE.
The petition states: “Justin Fletcher is a communication genius. He both entertains and educates our children and does this with intelligence and panache without patronising. Programmes like Something Special can only help bridge the gap that sometimes sadly appears between able and not so able bodied people in our society and help banish the unkindness that disabled people sometimes face due to ignorance.”
The public were asked to vote on the Prime Minister's website, and the petition deadline passed on September 30 2007.
He was appointed an MBE in the 2008 Birthday Honours for services to "children's broadcasting and the voluntary sector".The Mighty Bill
Well, as expected, Bill Bailey was tremendous. The first half started off brilliantly, but when he went off for an interval, we were left feeling a little like he wasn't that comfortable. He bounded back on for the second half however, and he didn't disappoint in the slightest, he was funny and wacky and very very good. He performed at the end with a hindi choir that I completely failed to get the name of (£10 for a programme??? Not on your life! All hail nice comedians that give them for free in the name of charity). which was amazing, and he performed his love ballad which is still hilarious even though it was in Part Troll:
A very nice night. As has now become tradition (we've done it twice...), we stopped at L'Alba d'oro chip shop for chips on the way home. The best chip shop in the world, it has been my favourite my whole life. Like me, it was established in Edinburgh in 1975.
The bad stuff: a big venue like that makes it a bit like watching it on DVD, except less convenient. And why why why does the tallest person in the place always sit in front of me, and why does the dickhead that guffaws too loudly and claps every single solitary joke always sit right behind my ear??? I like the quiet intimate venues with the eclectic fans.
A very nice night. As has now become tradition (we've done it twice...), we stopped at L'Alba d'oro chip shop for chips on the way home. The best chip shop in the world, it has been my favourite my whole life. Like me, it was established in Edinburgh in 1975.
The bad stuff: a big venue like that makes it a bit like watching it on DVD, except less convenient. And why why why does the tallest person in the place always sit in front of me, and why does the dickhead that guffaws too loudly and claps every single solitary joke always sit right behind my ear??? I like the quiet intimate venues with the eclectic fans.
Thursday, 14 August 2008
Frustrated
Grrr. Not only am I missing Jasper Fforde at the Book Festival, but I'm feeling generally disgruntled all round.
I feel sick for about the 100th day in a row. I hurt. I am sick of being female and fertile.
Except I have no wish to cease to be either, I just wish it hurt less.
The children are tired and fractious and both parents are too tired and fractious to do anything about this. Taking them to a run-about-and-tire-yourself-out-while-we-sit-and-do-nothing place is out when they're too tired, it becomes a trial. We are shortly going to go and do some mystery shopping in the joy that is Glenrothes. Happy times.
Tonight we go to see Bill Bailey, he will cure my inertia and give me something to think about.
I feel sick for about the 100th day in a row. I hurt. I am sick of being female and fertile.
Except I have no wish to cease to be either, I just wish it hurt less.
The children are tired and fractious and both parents are too tired and fractious to do anything about this. Taking them to a run-about-and-tire-yourself-out-while-we-sit-and-do-nothing place is out when they're too tired, it becomes a trial. We are shortly going to go and do some mystery shopping in the joy that is Glenrothes. Happy times.
Tonight we go to see Bill Bailey, he will cure my inertia and give me something to think about.
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
People there should be clones of
I'm feeling talkative. Or, look, I'm procrastinating again.
Anyway, I've been mentally compiling a list of people that I think are great, for various reasons, and I feel I want to write them down before that particular train of thought gets endless delays before cancellation. Obviously, each of these persons is unique, so cloning would be futile, but in a perfect world these people would all be my friends and we'd hang out together. Clones might be more willing...
Ian Rankin. He's incredibly nice, incredibly interesting, incredibly witty and really really grounded. And he supports Raith Rovers.
Jasper Fforde. A fellow sufferer of my birthday, this man is a genius and I LOOOOVE his books.
Marcus Brigstocke. The most attractive man on earth.
Richard Herring. Because he is Richard Herring.
Andrew Collins. This man is the only person who should ever be allowed to review films.
Jason Byrne, Bill Bailey, Russell Howard, Ross Noble, Jeremy Hardy and the above three. These people make me laugh and laugh and laugh.
Danny Wallace. You can't not love him.
Bernard Butler. Because he plays guitar like no other.
A little sexist, perhaps? I don't like women much. Men do most things better. Leave it at that.
CNPS 10, 11, 12 and 13 today!!
Anyway, I've been mentally compiling a list of people that I think are great, for various reasons, and I feel I want to write them down before that particular train of thought gets endless delays before cancellation. Obviously, each of these persons is unique, so cloning would be futile, but in a perfect world these people would all be my friends and we'd hang out together. Clones might be more willing...
Ian Rankin. He's incredibly nice, incredibly interesting, incredibly witty and really really grounded. And he supports Raith Rovers.
Jasper Fforde. A fellow sufferer of my birthday, this man is a genius and I LOOOOVE his books.
Marcus Brigstocke. The most attractive man on earth.
Richard Herring. Because he is Richard Herring.
Andrew Collins. This man is the only person who should ever be allowed to review films.
Jason Byrne, Bill Bailey, Russell Howard, Ross Noble, Jeremy Hardy and the above three. These people make me laugh and laugh and laugh.
Danny Wallace. You can't not love him.
Bernard Butler. Because he plays guitar like no other.
A little sexist, perhaps? I don't like women much. Men do most things better. Leave it at that.
CNPS 10, 11, 12 and 13 today!!
Sobriety
Gah. Gah. Why is drinking so necessary?
Me, I hardly drink. I do on occasion get so spectacularly drunk that I make an amazing impression and so each and every person that I know has a relatively recent image of me in a state of total inebriation and humiliation. I am awful, quite dreadful, when I am drunk, and it is at least in part due to this that, as I say, I hardly drink. The last drink I had, I forget for a start, I think it was at the beginning of June. No reason, I just haven't had a drink since then. I've not felt the urge to. I do get accused of being drunk any time I'm in a lively mood or being particularly cheerful, which is either a nod to my natural exuberance, or an indication of my normal levels of grouchiness.
There's the whole transport issue as well. Living in a place such as Kirkcaldy, nights out often take place in a far distant place and so travel homewards is an issue. Driving to the place in question easily solves this for yourself and up to 4 other people. Drinking and driving is not an option, obviously, so it's fine to be the driver in this situation, although people often sympathise with you, you poor sod not able to get off your tits, here, have a Coke on me. But if you choose to not drink just because you want to save money or simply don't feel like a drink, then is that not possibly a sensible thing to do? I hate the assumption that I must be ill or pregnant if I choose not to drink at a social occasion. I don't *need* alcohol, as the self designated driver I have had many enjoyable nights completely sober, and I most definitely do not need to justify my decision. I don't have to explain why I'm not smoking, why do I have to have a reason to be sober?
Drink is responsible for all manner of incidents that simply would not have happened to sober people. Wine is lovely, but it's a lot of trouble. Don't make me feel like a freak because I'm not doing something I'm not very good at.
DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THE NEED TO DRINK BECAUSE I'M SCOTTISH!!!
Me, I hardly drink. I do on occasion get so spectacularly drunk that I make an amazing impression and so each and every person that I know has a relatively recent image of me in a state of total inebriation and humiliation. I am awful, quite dreadful, when I am drunk, and it is at least in part due to this that, as I say, I hardly drink. The last drink I had, I forget for a start, I think it was at the beginning of June. No reason, I just haven't had a drink since then. I've not felt the urge to. I do get accused of being drunk any time I'm in a lively mood or being particularly cheerful, which is either a nod to my natural exuberance, or an indication of my normal levels of grouchiness.
There's the whole transport issue as well. Living in a place such as Kirkcaldy, nights out often take place in a far distant place and so travel homewards is an issue. Driving to the place in question easily solves this for yourself and up to 4 other people. Drinking and driving is not an option, obviously, so it's fine to be the driver in this situation, although people often sympathise with you, you poor sod not able to get off your tits, here, have a Coke on me. But if you choose to not drink just because you want to save money or simply don't feel like a drink, then is that not possibly a sensible thing to do? I hate the assumption that I must be ill or pregnant if I choose not to drink at a social occasion. I don't *need* alcohol, as the self designated driver I have had many enjoyable nights completely sober, and I most definitely do not need to justify my decision. I don't have to explain why I'm not smoking, why do I have to have a reason to be sober?
Drink is responsible for all manner of incidents that simply would not have happened to sober people. Wine is lovely, but it's a lot of trouble. Don't make me feel like a freak because I'm not doing something I'm not very good at.
DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THE NEED TO DRINK BECAUSE I'M SCOTTISH!!!
A natural concern
I was just reading a review of some drama thing that Neil Pearson was in and yet again I was pleased to read that he's still with us.
The reason for this?
A few years ago I saw a drama called "The Mystery of Men" which starred among others, Neil Pearson and Nick Berry. A bet was taken about which of a group of men would die first; Neil Pearson's character lost the bet, having had a heart attack in front of a combine harvester and being harvested, so to speak. This traumatised me, having a fear of being combine harvested that stems from an episode of Worzel Gummidge in which he became caught in a combine harvester while napping.
No, I don't have any rational fears. Just illogical children's story based ones. Fears are compounded by a film about unrequited love where the young boy gets chopped by his distinctly combine harvester-y machine, and a scene from Cars where Chick Hicks gets chowed by... a combine harvester. Clearly a regular occurrence, combine harvesters are clearly lethal and should be banned.
(Or people/scarecrows should take more care when in fields that are being harvested. One or the other).
Anyway, this one silly drama scene has stuck with me, confusing the blurry lines between fact and fiction. As such I breathe a sigh of relief each time I see that Neil Pearson is alive and well and hasn't succumbed to the combine harvested fate of his character. Sadly, he wasn't very good in the drama thing in question, but he is still of this mortal coil. As one of a more rational rationale would expect.
The reason for this?
A few years ago I saw a drama called "The Mystery of Men" which starred among others, Neil Pearson and Nick Berry. A bet was taken about which of a group of men would die first; Neil Pearson's character lost the bet, having had a heart attack in front of a combine harvester and being harvested, so to speak. This traumatised me, having a fear of being combine harvested that stems from an episode of Worzel Gummidge in which he became caught in a combine harvester while napping.
No, I don't have any rational fears. Just illogical children's story based ones. Fears are compounded by a film about unrequited love where the young boy gets chopped by his distinctly combine harvester-y machine, and a scene from Cars where Chick Hicks gets chowed by... a combine harvester. Clearly a regular occurrence, combine harvesters are clearly lethal and should be banned.
(Or people/scarecrows should take more care when in fields that are being harvested. One or the other).
Anyway, this one silly drama scene has stuck with me, confusing the blurry lines between fact and fiction. As such I breathe a sigh of relief each time I see that Neil Pearson is alive and well and hasn't succumbed to the combine harvested fate of his character. Sadly, he wasn't very good in the drama thing in question, but he is still of this mortal coil. As one of a more rational rationale would expect.
Tuesday, 12 August 2008
Happy
Admittedly I'm easily pleased, but when someone who doesn't owe you or feel duty bound or anything else like that just takes a moment to say something, it's jolly nice.
All people aren't dickheads after all.
All people aren't dickheads after all.
It's that bloggery time of year
Looking back over my blogistory (that's an amalgamation of blog + history but looks a bit like bloggy-story, so I like it doubly), I seem to have an attraction to this time of year. This is based on a sample of two years so possibly isn't all that accurate, but if I remember correctly, the previous year's August saw a foray into myspace and blogging there.
Possible reasons for this:
1) Edinburgh Festival Fringe is on. Something to do, something to awaken my brain and something to talk about. And the running commentary that runs in my head for a while when I've been listening to comedians.
2) Holiday season. Getting largely ignored creates the need to talk at something.
3) It's crush time. I'm not sure why. See 1) maybe.
4) No reason. There are not always patterns to everything.
I wish I was better at blogging or indeed at ever keeping a diary. It's lovely to look back and see what I thought and the only diary I kept somewhat successfully was for 1992 when I was a Very Naughty Girl and probably don't want to recall just how sordid some of my weekends were. No, I tell a lie, I have a fascinating account of sleep/milk/nappy patterns for the first couple of months of the boys' life, which I should publish as a warning to anyone that ever thinks babies are a nice idea, except for the fact that it is singularly the most tedious thing I have ever written.
Thoughts for today: 2.5 is a very difficult age and my sweet little Robbie is being a NIGHTMARE.
CNPS: now looking for 10.
Possible reasons for this:
1) Edinburgh Festival Fringe is on. Something to do, something to awaken my brain and something to talk about. And the running commentary that runs in my head for a while when I've been listening to comedians.
2) Holiday season. Getting largely ignored creates the need to talk at something.
3) It's crush time. I'm not sure why. See 1) maybe.
4) No reason. There are not always patterns to everything.
I wish I was better at blogging or indeed at ever keeping a diary. It's lovely to look back and see what I thought and the only diary I kept somewhat successfully was for 1992 when I was a Very Naughty Girl and probably don't want to recall just how sordid some of my weekends were. No, I tell a lie, I have a fascinating account of sleep/milk/nappy patterns for the first couple of months of the boys' life, which I should publish as a warning to anyone that ever thinks babies are a nice idea, except for the fact that it is singularly the most tedious thing I have ever written.
Thoughts for today: 2.5 is a very difficult age and my sweet little Robbie is being a NIGHTMARE.
CNPS: now looking for 10.
Monday, 11 August 2008
CNPS
Well, in true me-style, I bumbled around Richard Herring's site and found this.
(sorry, you have to read it, I don't have the verbal ability to reproduce it tonight - it's all about Consecutive Number Plate Spotting, or CNPS).
Today, as part of our staycation we went off to Blair Drummond Safari Park as a fun day out for all the family. More on that later...
Being on the motorway and all gave me an excellent opportunity to commence number plate spotting (I've always been a bit of a number plate nerd - I used to know where they all came from) and started looking for my 1. Not so easy. Many things became apparent, not least that there are very very few old style numberplates remaining. As I look at my antiquated heap of rattles and its 51 reg, I can understand why. Other things that became apparent however were:
- There are vast numbers of private reg. How come so many people have money to waste?
- There are some really cool older cars
- There are some really crap older cars that are on the road presumably by some deal the driver has with the road.
- Driving while checking the reg of every other car isn't all that safe. I demonstrated this by leaving the motorway by mistake in a contraflow.
Initially, while walking across the car park, I jubilantly counted an 02, 03 and 04 before deciding that this was cheating and to concentrate on old style registrations only. Halfway home we passed an H1 XXX so I decided that this was for real, just in case LIONS 1 didn't count, so would have discounted the others anyway. At the same time, 1 ROT pulled up behind us, and as we pulled into home, I realised that our neighbour has A1 XXX. Stuck on 2 now, but having re-read the rules, I have decided that I am not an extreme player after all and I will now be counting new style numberplates, saying as how they only count for a maximum of 18 numbers (and that's if I'm still here after next Sept). It is also not advised to do when driving, which would be common sense for anyone with a brain, not so for I.
I am now itching for an excuse to go out and look round car parks and the likes for the next numbers. If I can count new ones I could be up to 9 by tomorrow. Goodness!
(Seriously, I am quite thrilled by this new hobby, I shall ignore the fact that RH wrote the thing referring to numberplates up to 52 (we're about to get 58) and think of it as "new").
Yeah, the safari park. Better than the zoo, but still distinctly underwhelming. I guess this is why under 3s get in free places, they get nothing out of them. Nice animals, close up to a baby owl being the highlight all round, damned expensive.
Sunday, 10 August 2008
Questions to answer... bliss
I just pinched this off a blog called The Urban Woo, which is a blog I'd like to have written instead of this one. Sorry, I just like answering questions.
1. My uncle once: looked after me when I was big enough to look after myself
2. Never in my life: been to a music festival
3. When I was five: I was very cute
4. High school was: the best
5. I will never forget: the kindnesses of few
6. Once I met: Craig Charles. He fancied me, you know
7. There’s this girl I know: she's looking really old
8. Once, at a bar: oh lord, more than once
9. By noon, I’m usually: ready for my bed
10. Last night: I went to bed absurdly early
11. If only I had: some willpower
12. Next time I go to church: will probably be for a wedding or christening
13. What worries me most: losing one of my 3 boys
14. When I turn my head left I see: a wall
15. When I turn my head right I see: yikes! a mirrored wardrobe. I need to brush my hair
16. You know I’m lying when: I'm being authoritative
17. What I miss most about the Eighties is: not looking back to the 80s
18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: Titania. Allow me my delusions, thank you
19. By this time next year: this flat must surely have been sold
20. A better name for me would be: Lucy or Victoria or Emma or something feminine
21. I have a hard time understanding: quantum physics. I don't like things that aren't there as soon as I know they're there
22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll: be carrying on as now
23. You know I like you if: I talk to you without necessity
24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be: the person that did the award worthy thing for me and let me take the credit
25. Take my advice, never: do as I do
26. My ideal breakfast is: a Sausage and Egg McMuffin meal (with orange juice). I have my foibles
27. A song I love but do not have is: This Night by Billy Joel
28. If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: visit the Rock Garden in the Botanics. I'm going to suggest that now
29. Why won’t people: use a little common sense
30. If you spend a night at my house: you'd be very well fed
31. I’d stop my wedding for: very little
32. The world could do without: celebrity magazines
33. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: the belly of a slug
34. My favourite blonde(s) is/are: Jason Donovan. I know
35. Paper clips are more useful than: the ties that come with little plastic bags
36. If I do anything well it’s: a bit of a shock
37. I can’t help but: wonder what else there is
38. I usually cry: when it's least appropriate
39. My advice to my child/nephew/niece: none of it's your fault, you're marvellous
40. And by the way: I would, repeatedly
1. My uncle once: looked after me when I was big enough to look after myself
2. Never in my life: been to a music festival
3. When I was five: I was very cute
4. High school was: the best
5. I will never forget: the kindnesses of few
6. Once I met: Craig Charles. He fancied me, you know
7. There’s this girl I know: she's looking really old
8. Once, at a bar: oh lord, more than once
9. By noon, I’m usually: ready for my bed
10. Last night: I went to bed absurdly early
11. If only I had: some willpower
12. Next time I go to church: will probably be for a wedding or christening
13. What worries me most: losing one of my 3 boys
14. When I turn my head left I see: a wall
15. When I turn my head right I see: yikes! a mirrored wardrobe. I need to brush my hair
16. You know I’m lying when: I'm being authoritative
17. What I miss most about the Eighties is: not looking back to the 80s
18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: Titania. Allow me my delusions, thank you
19. By this time next year: this flat must surely have been sold
20. A better name for me would be: Lucy or Victoria or Emma or something feminine
21. I have a hard time understanding: quantum physics. I don't like things that aren't there as soon as I know they're there
22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll: be carrying on as now
23. You know I like you if: I talk to you without necessity
24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be: the person that did the award worthy thing for me and let me take the credit
25. Take my advice, never: do as I do
26. My ideal breakfast is: a Sausage and Egg McMuffin meal (with orange juice). I have my foibles
27. A song I love but do not have is: This Night by Billy Joel
28. If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: visit the Rock Garden in the Botanics. I'm going to suggest that now
29. Why won’t people: use a little common sense
30. If you spend a night at my house: you'd be very well fed
31. I’d stop my wedding for: very little
32. The world could do without: celebrity magazines
33. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: the belly of a slug
34. My favourite blonde(s) is/are: Jason Donovan. I know
35. Paper clips are more useful than: the ties that come with little plastic bags
36. If I do anything well it’s: a bit of a shock
37. I can’t help but: wonder what else there is
38. I usually cry: when it's least appropriate
39. My advice to my child/nephew/niece: none of it's your fault, you're marvellous
40. And by the way: I would, repeatedly
A-Z of today
A is for apple juice, starting off the day
B is for baking, making fairy cakes
C is for Coke, a serendipidous bottle found in the car
D is for dreary, the weather's grey again
E is for ear, my left one's rather sore
F is for fish, we saw them at the pet shop
G is for great gran, that's who Oliver's gone to see
H is for Herring, better at blogging than me
I is for icing, I just put some on the cakes
J is for J Sainsbury, visited earlier today
K is being silent, like in knife and knutsford
L is for lazy, like Sundays ought to be
M is for mother, being as what I am
N is for nausea, still present and unidentified
O is for oops, I've surely forgotten something
P is for proposal, to be worked upon tonight
Q is for quickly, the speed this last week passed at
R is for radio, paused and not by me
S is for Sunday, because that's the day it is
T is for tidying, what's always needing done
U is for untidying, what's always getting done
V is for vivacious, because it's a lovely word
X is for x-asperating, because it's a very that-some letter
Y is for yellow, the colour of these walls
Z is for zenith because I used that word this morning and there aren't many z's
B is for baking, making fairy cakes
C is for Coke, a serendipidous bottle found in the car
D is for dreary, the weather's grey again
E is for ear, my left one's rather sore
F is for fish, we saw them at the pet shop
G is for great gran, that's who Oliver's gone to see
H is for Herring, better at blogging than me
I is for icing, I just put some on the cakes
J is for J Sainsbury, visited earlier today
K is being silent, like in knife and knutsford
L is for lazy, like Sundays ought to be
M is for mother, being as what I am
N is for nausea, still present and unidentified
O is for oops, I've surely forgotten something
P is for proposal, to be worked upon tonight
Q is for quickly, the speed this last week passed at
R is for radio, paused and not by me
S is for Sunday, because that's the day it is
T is for tidying, what's always needing done
U is for untidying, what's always getting done
V is for vivacious, because it's a lovely word
X is for x-asperating, because it's a very that-some letter
Y is for yellow, the colour of these walls
Z is for zenith because I used that word this morning and there aren't many z's
Saturday, 9 August 2008
Environmentally sheeplike
Well, because I have this tendency to believe pretty much anything a good comedian says, and to hold them in high regard for at least 45 minutes after seeing them, I automatically buy anything that is offered after the gig.
(Not including Richard Herring because I am STUPID and didn't go to the bar where he said he'd be and have the chance to SPEAK to him and buy his DVDs).
Mark Watson made a damned good impression, still lasting, and when he said "I am selling my books outside" off I trotted to buy his books. At this time, had they been books about his experiences watching paint dry, I probably would have bought them. He was utterly lovely and nice about my blatant queuejumping also, which was a bonus, although he doesn't seem like the type of bloke to say "no, evil queuejumper, get to the back and wait like the wench you are". Luckily, they seem quite good. I'm now reading the first one, "Crap at the Environment" which is so far very good. And funny, which is damned impressive for a book about environmental stuff.
A confession: my stance on Environmental issues was changed by Marcus Brigstocke last year; he was entirely convincing that maybe it wasn't all twaddle. And his lovely face is at the back of my mind when I do my lowly bits of goodliness, because well... "Yes, hello Marcus, lovely to meet you, I recycle most of my paper you know. Aren't I worthy of your friendship?"
And so, enjoying Mr Watson's views so far (and of course aware of any future fledgling friendships between us in Unlikely World), I visited http://actonco2.direct.gov.uk/index.html (no www. - very confusing) and discovered that I'm better than average and only slightly worse than I should be aiming for.
Luckily they had some advice for me to be better:
1) buy a new, better car.
Ummm. Yes. And pay for it how?
2) dry my washing outside.
I live in a flat. I don't use a tumble drier so would drying my washing in the car park actually benefit the environment?
3) unplug my digital radio when I'm not using it.
It's an alarm clock. Do I have to set another alarm to plug this one in prior to it waking me?
One day I hope to be mature enough not to base my actions/beliefs on the sayings of others, but in the meantime, intelligent and amusing* gentlemen can lead my way forward.
* ok, and attractive.
(Not including Richard Herring because I am STUPID and didn't go to the bar where he said he'd be and have the chance to SPEAK to him and buy his DVDs).
Mark Watson made a damned good impression, still lasting, and when he said "I am selling my books outside" off I trotted to buy his books. At this time, had they been books about his experiences watching paint dry, I probably would have bought them. He was utterly lovely and nice about my blatant queuejumping also, which was a bonus, although he doesn't seem like the type of bloke to say "no, evil queuejumper, get to the back and wait like the wench you are". Luckily, they seem quite good. I'm now reading the first one, "Crap at the Environment" which is so far very good. And funny, which is damned impressive for a book about environmental stuff.
A confession: my stance on Environmental issues was changed by Marcus Brigstocke last year; he was entirely convincing that maybe it wasn't all twaddle. And his lovely face is at the back of my mind when I do my lowly bits of goodliness, because well... "Yes, hello Marcus, lovely to meet you, I recycle most of my paper you know. Aren't I worthy of your friendship?"
And so, enjoying Mr Watson's views so far (and of course aware of any future fledgling friendships between us in Unlikely World), I visited http://actonco2.direct.gov.uk/index.html (no www. - very confusing) and discovered that I'm better than average and only slightly worse than I should be aiming for.
Luckily they had some advice for me to be better:
1) buy a new, better car.
Ummm. Yes. And pay for it how?
2) dry my washing outside.
I live in a flat. I don't use a tumble drier so would drying my washing in the car park actually benefit the environment?
3) unplug my digital radio when I'm not using it.
It's an alarm clock. Do I have to set another alarm to plug this one in prior to it waking me?
One day I hope to be mature enough not to base my actions/beliefs on the sayings of others, but in the meantime, intelligent and amusing* gentlemen can lead my way forward.
* ok, and attractive.
Thursday, 7 August 2008
Nuff's nuff.
I fecking hate people.
All of them.
Every single one.
Go away, I'm talking to myself.
actually written on 7/10, but I'm hiding it in the past. Just so I remember.
All of them.
Every single one.
Go away, I'm talking to myself.
actually written on 7/10, but I'm hiding it in the past. Just so I remember.
Comedy and life
It's that marvellous time of year again whereby comedians come to Edinburgh and make me laugh. I think that maybe this isn't their sole purpose, but that's beside the point.
This year we were to see: Jason Byrne, Mark Watson, Richard Herring and Bill Bailey. Jason Byrne we missed, because I am an idiot and got the venue wrong. Mark Watson is adorable, I want him as a pet. He is also extremely funny, clever and an excellent comedian. Bill Bailey is next week, I can't wait.
Richard Herring was simply marvellous, anyone who can should go and see him. Totally different and very, very funny, one of my favourite gigs so far of the last 6 years, thus rendering him hero #1.
That was not my most eloquent of reviews. Ah well, noone reads this anyway :-)
This year we were to see: Jason Byrne, Mark Watson, Richard Herring and Bill Bailey. Jason Byrne we missed, because I am an idiot and got the venue wrong. Mark Watson is adorable, I want him as a pet. He is also extremely funny, clever and an excellent comedian. Bill Bailey is next week, I can't wait.
Richard Herring was simply marvellous, anyone who can should go and see him. Totally different and very, very funny, one of my favourite gigs so far of the last 6 years, thus rendering him hero #1.
That was not my most eloquent of reviews. Ah well, noone reads this anyway :-)
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