Having a shrivelled brain apparently means an increased tolerance for drivel. So much so that I have begun to enjoy utter cack and judge thing inversely on their rubbishness.
Example: I caught a few minutes last night of a thing called "Material Girl". My mind simultaneously thought "that looks truly awful" and "I must look that up on iplayer".
I have spent a number of hours watching my husband play Call of Duty (MW2 and then WaW if you're interested. No?) which is remarkably watchable in the way it's presented but the more I watch, the more I feel myself slipping into a catatonic state.
So, figuring that one person can't actually watch Friends all the time (despite what E4 may think), I purchased a suitably dim looking DVD set entitled "Couture Collection". This comprises 3 films: 27 Dresses, In Her Shoes and The Devil Wears Prada.
27 Dresses I liked, it was cute and ditzy and enjoyable.
In Her Shoes I have both seen and read the book of. I didn't rate the book much, although I did finish it as it must have been pre children. I saw the film by chance on TV (post children, naturally) and enjoyed it quite a lot.
The Devil Wears Prada I failed to "get" at all as a book. It was raved about by all, but even in the glorious concentration of the prechildren era, I didn't get very far with it. This was typical of all the raved about books of the time: Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Memoirs of a Geisha etc. Everyone except me loved them, and I did occasionally manage something with content.
So I figured I'd give the - also raved about - film a shot.
Yawn. Tedium. Ugly Betty: the film, except Ugly Betty is enjoyable.
A couple of tangents.
First of all, the Ugly Betty thing. The Devil Wears Prada book predates Ugly Betty. Very similar premise, ordinary girl out of place in world of fashion takes job at fashion magazine to further dreams of journalism. Ugly Betty however is enjoyable. I found this out much to my surprise by mistake, it was one before/after something else I watched and I got kind of hooked. I really like it and have managed to watch it post children, which is not true of most things.
Anyway, my tangent has taken a tangent. Ugly Betty is supposedly taken from Mexican (???) series Betty la Fey (???) (or some words that are a bit similar to those I just wrote) which predates the book of The Devil Wears Prada. Which is meant to be based on the author's experience of working for Anna Wintour, editor of Vogue. I don't really care, Anna Wintour is the singularly least interesting person of all overrated people, and as far as I can tell is a thoroughly obnoxious person that other obnoxious people decide to follow as true disciples.
Which leads me to my second tangent, fashion.
I do understand that it is desirable to wear gorgeous fabrics, in flattering designs and have truly gorgeous clothing. Also, it must be nice to have unique clothes. The latter can be achieved by making your own, or by employing a seamstress, which I am quite positive can be done for considerably less than it costs to buy designer. But assuming you like your clothes preassembled, then yes, good fabrics and well cut lines are worth paying for.
What I do not get, and will never understand, is any person who wears something because it is a) expensive or b) fashionable with no regard to whether it is c) nice.
The expensive part especially, the coveting of things that one doesn't actually like purely because they cost a lot and you want to be seen to have paid for it makes me want to weep. How much better life would be if things were allocated to people who would appreciate them rather than those who could afford them.
As to fashion, I appreciate that a lot of people have no style whatsoever and so need outfits assembled by others and told what to wear. I may be so off the fashion map it hurts, but I have pretty much worn the same colours and styles for 20 years; the only difference fashion makes is that sometimes the things I like are easier to source. And yes, I do make my own clothes these days. Some of them, I doubt I'll ever make jeans.
So. The film. I think it safe to say that The Devil Wears Prada is awful. Tedious. I watched an hour of it, did a double take when I realised it had only been the one hour, and turned it off. Not "In a word: BRILLIANT" (Heat) or "Comedy doesn't get much blacker - or brilliant - than this" (Daily Mirror).
I missed that it was meant to be a comedy. That's probably the first time I've learned anything from the Mirror. Heh.
Meh.
Friday, 15 January 2010
Thursday, 14 January 2010
The plight of the unread
Due to the unfortunate ongoing combination of being unable to resist acquiring books and being unable to get on with reading, I have 4 books that I have had out of the library for some time. They have been renewed 6 times and I have read a bit of each. Fail.
In order to renew the books, I log into my account and click "renew all". Done. Except that proved too hard this month and by the time the memory kicked in, a fine of £1.52 had accumulated. 38p per book, which doesn't divide into any sensible division, but who am I to argue?
So duty called and offs I trotted to the library to pay up.
Oh yay! They have a fines amnesty because of the difficulty people have had getting to the library through snow. I pointed out that actually the snow didn't affect my getting to the computer and so I should really still pay. This was rewarded with a look of pity normally reserved for the mentally impaired and a reassurance that they simply weren't charging fines. And tada. All cleared.
A warm and fuzzy feeling from doing the right thing and being rewarded by saving money.
Huzzah!
In order to renew the books, I log into my account and click "renew all". Done. Except that proved too hard this month and by the time the memory kicked in, a fine of £1.52 had accumulated. 38p per book, which doesn't divide into any sensible division, but who am I to argue?
So duty called and offs I trotted to the library to pay up.
Oh yay! They have a fines amnesty because of the difficulty people have had getting to the library through snow. I pointed out that actually the snow didn't affect my getting to the computer and so I should really still pay. This was rewarded with a look of pity normally reserved for the mentally impaired and a reassurance that they simply weren't charging fines. And tada. All cleared.
A warm and fuzzy feeling from doing the right thing and being rewarded by saving money.
Huzzah!
Wednesday, 13 January 2010
Mario part 876
More Mario... I am a geekette.
For Christmas this year I (definitely me) received Mario and Luigi: Bowser's Inside story for DS and New Super Mario Bros Wii.
Both excellent. Both gratefully received.
Both forking IMPOSSIBLE!!!
I have been playing Mario since he was only on the NES. 1992 is when we were first acquainted. I cannot do either of these games. I am stuck as a stuck thing not very far into the DS game. And as for the Wii game. Well! The only reason I am not still trying to defeat Roy Koopa (is he new? Looks a lot like Bowser, has purple specs and throws purple flames) is that my 4 year old defeated him for me.
Grrrr.
Yes, I have downloaded walkthroughs, they expect a level of skill that eludes me. So for the Wii version, I'll just have to wait till the wee guy gets past Roy at the end of World 2... For the DS I am going to have to CHEAT (or hand it over to my other 4 year old and weep into my Horlicks.
Reviews: I think the DS game looks nice. My progress is so woeful you could get as much info from the box as from me.
Wii game: I LIKE the old school platform style, I find this infinitely more playable than Mario Galaxy. Mario Galaxy is now delightfully possible and I am enjoying it and ogling Mario Galaxy 2.
Back to New Super Mario Bros Wii, multiplayer co-op is nice (if frustrating when playing with someone who doesn't get co-op). Not that new: I distinctly remember playing multiplayer (probably turn by turn) on one of the SNES versions. It is good though, if there are two of you Game Over only happens if you both lose your last life at the same time, as long as one of you has one life or more, you continue and stay where you are.
Pretty, int it? Most favourite picture in our house that is.
Main gripe: lack of save options. There are mysterious stars that may do something save-ish. I shall ask the walkthrough.
I think I'm going to build some Lego. If I can fathom out what the instructions mean.
For Christmas this year I (definitely me) received Mario and Luigi: Bowser's Inside story for DS and New Super Mario Bros Wii.
Both excellent. Both gratefully received.
Both forking IMPOSSIBLE!!!
I have been playing Mario since he was only on the NES. 1992 is when we were first acquainted. I cannot do either of these games. I am stuck as a stuck thing not very far into the DS game. And as for the Wii game. Well! The only reason I am not still trying to defeat Roy Koopa (is he new? Looks a lot like Bowser, has purple specs and throws purple flames) is that my 4 year old defeated him for me.
Grrrr.
Yes, I have downloaded walkthroughs, they expect a level of skill that eludes me. So for the Wii version, I'll just have to wait till the wee guy gets past Roy at the end of World 2... For the DS I am going to have to CHEAT (or hand it over to my other 4 year old and weep into my Horlicks.
Reviews: I think the DS game looks nice. My progress is so woeful you could get as much info from the box as from me.
Wii game: I LIKE the old school platform style, I find this infinitely more playable than Mario Galaxy. Mario Galaxy is now delightfully possible and I am enjoying it and ogling Mario Galaxy 2.
Back to New Super Mario Bros Wii, multiplayer co-op is nice (if frustrating when playing with someone who doesn't get co-op). Not that new: I distinctly remember playing multiplayer (probably turn by turn) on one of the SNES versions. It is good though, if there are two of you Game Over only happens if you both lose your last life at the same time, as long as one of you has one life or more, you continue and stay where you are.
Pretty, int it? Most favourite picture in our house that is.
Main gripe: lack of save options. There are mysterious stars that may do something save-ish. I shall ask the walkthrough.
I think I'm going to build some Lego. If I can fathom out what the instructions mean.
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Sometimes it's hard to be a woman
On the way home last night, I tripped over the stumpish remains of a murdered plant rendered invisible by the darkness.
By that I mean nighttime darkness, the band played no part.
I had helium balloon strings twisted round my hands to stop them escaping and so I landed with an undignified whomp onto the ground, hurting most parts of me all at once and vastly overreacting.
My two sons were at my side immediately, not least to check the fate of the balloons. But then concern kicked in.
Son 1 was most interested to know the exact circumstances of the incident. His prime concern was for the extra strong mint that had been thrown from my pocket. This is, I would say, typical of my minutely elder son, being as he is, a Bloke. A Blokish Bloke.
I can conclude that he will grow to display the following behaviours as a man:
He will never see the point of communicating unless there is something specific to communicate. He won't phone for the sake of it.
He will be generous when it comes to gifts but almost entirely without imagination. Wishlists will be his salvation. Wrapping will be beyond him and where possible he will get someone else to tie his gifts up, only having to throw paper round their gift.
He will be puzzled as to why any woman would be upset at their keenness to play bedroom sports and won't understand why they don't see it as a massive compliment.
He will always have a solution. He will think anyone who tells him a problem and doesn't take his solution on board is a moron. He will figure if you don't want an answer, don't pose the problem.
Son 2 on the other hand will grow up to be the sort of man that indignantly states that all the above is sexist and that "not all men are like that". His response was to comfort me, check I was ok and to scold the offending stump. He also enquired as to my wellbeing the following day. He somehow has extraordinary levels of empathy, he is a joy to have around. Not that his brother isn't a joy, he just doesn't do touchy feely. He's a bloke (a smashing one) and he's gonna have a hairy chest.
Their (hairy chested) father, incidentally, appeared a good bit after to enquire why I was taking so long. I am Mrs Bloke and I wouldn't have it any other way. That doesn't mean I don't complain...
By that I mean nighttime darkness, the band played no part.
I had helium balloon strings twisted round my hands to stop them escaping and so I landed with an undignified whomp onto the ground, hurting most parts of me all at once and vastly overreacting.
My two sons were at my side immediately, not least to check the fate of the balloons. But then concern kicked in.
Son 1 was most interested to know the exact circumstances of the incident. His prime concern was for the extra strong mint that had been thrown from my pocket. This is, I would say, typical of my minutely elder son, being as he is, a Bloke. A Blokish Bloke.
I can conclude that he will grow to display the following behaviours as a man:
He will never see the point of communicating unless there is something specific to communicate. He won't phone for the sake of it.
He will be generous when it comes to gifts but almost entirely without imagination. Wishlists will be his salvation. Wrapping will be beyond him and where possible he will get someone else to tie his gifts up, only having to throw paper round their gift.
He will be puzzled as to why any woman would be upset at their keenness to play bedroom sports and won't understand why they don't see it as a massive compliment.
He will always have a solution. He will think anyone who tells him a problem and doesn't take his solution on board is a moron. He will figure if you don't want an answer, don't pose the problem.
Son 2 on the other hand will grow up to be the sort of man that indignantly states that all the above is sexist and that "not all men are like that". His response was to comfort me, check I was ok and to scold the offending stump. He also enquired as to my wellbeing the following day. He somehow has extraordinary levels of empathy, he is a joy to have around. Not that his brother isn't a joy, he just doesn't do touchy feely. He's a bloke (a smashing one) and he's gonna have a hairy chest.
Their (hairy chested) father, incidentally, appeared a good bit after to enquire why I was taking so long. I am Mrs Bloke and I wouldn't have it any other way. That doesn't mean I don't complain...
Monday, 11 January 2010
Birthday actual
Today was my birthday!!!
Woo! I am now halfway through my biblical life.
I LOVE my birthday. Every time someone wishes me a happy birthday or I notice the date, I feel happy. I feel like a loved and lovely person, so I AM lovely. I am quite delightful to people.
Or so I think. The truth may be that I am unsufferably patronising, dull and idiotic. But we shall ignore that. I am nice to people and feel lovely.
Today I "met" two other people who share my birthday. Which is positively exciting beyond words (to me).
My Facebook app tells me when someone posts on my wall. This could be immensely annoying but for today it was cheering to say the least.
I have received a veritable fortune in voucher monies to replace my too big clothes (hurrah!!), and other lovely gifts. I did not however receive anything by mail so I am cross with the Royal Mail for letting snow interfere with My Birthday.
I have only spent the one voucher today (go me) and I fear severe covetation of a handbag, coupled with a emptying of a stupid handbag that doesn't shut, means a handbag will need to be purchased tomorrow. But that is extraordinarily banal so I'm going to Stop Typing About Shopping.
Spoiltness and demandation (me! My day! My week!) was rewarded with balloons and cakes. Which was ace.
Ok. Done now. Return to a place where things are normal and I'm less preoccupied with Me.
Woo! I am now halfway through my biblical life.
I LOVE my birthday. Every time someone wishes me a happy birthday or I notice the date, I feel happy. I feel like a loved and lovely person, so I AM lovely. I am quite delightful to people.
Or so I think. The truth may be that I am unsufferably patronising, dull and idiotic. But we shall ignore that. I am nice to people and feel lovely.
Today I "met" two other people who share my birthday. Which is positively exciting beyond words (to me).
My Facebook app tells me when someone posts on my wall. This could be immensely annoying but for today it was cheering to say the least.
I have received a veritable fortune in voucher monies to replace my too big clothes (hurrah!!), and other lovely gifts. I did not however receive anything by mail so I am cross with the Royal Mail for letting snow interfere with My Birthday.
I have only spent the one voucher today (go me) and I fear severe covetation of a handbag, coupled with a emptying of a stupid handbag that doesn't shut, means a handbag will need to be purchased tomorrow. But that is extraordinarily banal so I'm going to Stop Typing About Shopping.
Spoiltness and demandation (me! My day! My week!) was rewarded with balloons and cakes. Which was ace.
Ok. Done now. Return to a place where things are normal and I'm less preoccupied with Me.
Sunday, 10 January 2010
Birthday part II
In the midst of birthday season, I invited them-what-matters to my house today for a generic birthday celebration. This week because there would have been too many absences last week, the weather was unforgiving and a little because I care a lot more than the boys do. They like presents, who is present is of no matter to them at all.
So we hads ourselves a mini party. In which I fretted about the tidiness of my house, ending up with one unenterable room, (I so need an upstairs) and my family and closest friends visited, bearing - ace - gifts, to be rewarded with poncy tiny versions of food and a party bag.
Yes. A party bag. Children present were mine, a 12 year old and a 1 year old. Everyone got party bags bar he-who-scoffed who then complained. Everyone except the 12 year old, the baby and the scoffer seemed very pleased. We have a surplus of leftover Haribo.
Not a party in terms of there being a lack of music or any form of entertainment or games. More of an "at home". Yah.
I love having people round. It's better than any other type of socialising. Except maybe going out for lunch. Maybe.
So we hads ourselves a mini party. In which I fretted about the tidiness of my house, ending up with one unenterable room, (I so need an upstairs) and my family and closest friends visited, bearing - ace - gifts, to be rewarded with poncy tiny versions of food and a party bag.
Yes. A party bag. Children present were mine, a 12 year old and a 1 year old. Everyone got party bags bar he-who-scoffed who then complained. Everyone except the 12 year old, the baby and the scoffer seemed very pleased. We have a surplus of leftover Haribo.
Not a party in terms of there being a lack of music or any form of entertainment or games. More of an "at home". Yah.
I love having people round. It's better than any other type of socialising. Except maybe going out for lunch. Maybe.
Saturday, 9 January 2010
The Tears
I don't get me, or to be specific, I don't understand tears as shed by me.
There are certain things that make me cry:
1) people being nice beyond that which I deserve.
2) being very angry/frustrated
3) injustice, when served to me
and
4) schmaltzy cringeworthy sentiment.
Things that don't make me cry:
Anything that you'd expect tears at: death, funerals etc. Dry as a dry thing.
The 4th tear inducing thing perturbs me. Romcoms, Neighbours weddings, utter tripe; I sniffle away like a sniffler. I think I have cried at just about every film Cameron Diaz has been in, there's something about the way she squeaks. Every Neighbours wedding - especially Scott and Charlene *blush* - moves me to sniffs. Almost every episode of Ally McBeal and Ugly Betty has my lip a-quiver and my eyes a-water. Tonight I shed ductfuls of tears over 27 Dresses.
Perhaps subconsciously I am sobbing at the fact that I am watching these things. Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm just a sap.
There are certain things that make me cry:
1) people being nice beyond that which I deserve.
2) being very angry/frustrated
3) injustice, when served to me
and
4) schmaltzy cringeworthy sentiment.
Things that don't make me cry:
Anything that you'd expect tears at: death, funerals etc. Dry as a dry thing.
The 4th tear inducing thing perturbs me. Romcoms, Neighbours weddings, utter tripe; I sniffle away like a sniffler. I think I have cried at just about every film Cameron Diaz has been in, there's something about the way she squeaks. Every Neighbours wedding - especially Scott and Charlene *blush* - moves me to sniffs. Almost every episode of Ally McBeal and Ugly Betty has my lip a-quiver and my eyes a-water. Tonight I shed ductfuls of tears over 27 Dresses.
Perhaps subconsciously I am sobbing at the fact that I am watching these things. Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm just a sap.
Friday, 8 January 2010
I think I can't, I think I can't...
Can I write this every day?
No. Apparently not.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
No. Apparently not.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Thursday, 7 January 2010
Classic Albums??
Today the Royal Mail released their New Year stamps, featuring ten classic album covers, supposedly ten of the most iconic (British) album covers of all time.
I think this means iconic covers, rather than iconic albums. Or it should. I have issue with a couple...
It may just be me, but when I think of the phrase "classic album cover", there's one specific image that springs to mind.
Nope. They went for The Division Bell. Still Pink Floyd, and I think actually the better album, but Dark Side of the Moon is (/was until recently??) Britain's best selling album and has one of the most recognisable album covers ever. It should be there. Really.
Issues with Coldplay - Rush of Blood to the Head and Blur - Parklife along the lines of "err, what????" Both fail both in terms of being classic in any way, shape or form.
I'm not completely ignorant as to the world of music, and so I would sort of expect to have HEARD of a classic album. This is not true of New Order - Power, Corruption and Lies. Chocolate box stylee doesn't do anything for me. I'm missing something, clearly, enlightenment would be appreciated.
Rolling Stones deserve to be there, but is Let it Bleed really their best album and/or cover?
Or am I just feeling animosity towards a picture of a cake by the deplorable Delia? Hmm.
The Clash - London Calling. Classic album, recognisable cover. Guess it works, but meh. Less meh would be: Sergeant Peppers? Revolver? Abbey Road? Anything else by the Beatles?
Mike Oldfield - Tubular Bells.
Fair do's.
Led Zeppelin - IV. I guess so, and they got Jimmy Page to unveil the stamps. whatever that entailed. Wahey.
Primal Scream - Screamadelica. Can't really argue although I'd like to.
David Bowie - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Cannot argue, wouldn't want to.
The stamps are very impressive, they have been purchased. What to do with them remains undecided.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
I think this means iconic covers, rather than iconic albums. Or it should. I have issue with a couple...
It may just be me, but when I think of the phrase "classic album cover", there's one specific image that springs to mind.
Nope. They went for The Division Bell. Still Pink Floyd, and I think actually the better album, but Dark Side of the Moon is (/was until recently??) Britain's best selling album and has one of the most recognisable album covers ever. It should be there. Really.
Issues with Coldplay - Rush of Blood to the Head and Blur - Parklife along the lines of "err, what????" Both fail both in terms of being classic in any way, shape or form.
I'm not completely ignorant as to the world of music, and so I would sort of expect to have HEARD of a classic album. This is not true of New Order - Power, Corruption and Lies. Chocolate box stylee doesn't do anything for me. I'm missing something, clearly, enlightenment would be appreciated.
Rolling Stones deserve to be there, but is Let it Bleed really their best album and/or cover?
Or am I just feeling animosity towards a picture of a cake by the deplorable Delia? Hmm.
The Clash - London Calling. Classic album, recognisable cover. Guess it works, but meh. Less meh would be: Sergeant Peppers? Revolver? Abbey Road? Anything else by the Beatles?
Mike Oldfield - Tubular Bells.
Fair do's.
Led Zeppelin - IV. I guess so, and they got Jimmy Page to unveil the stamps. whatever that entailed. Wahey.
Primal Scream - Screamadelica. Can't really argue although I'd like to.
David Bowie - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Cannot argue, wouldn't want to.
The stamps are very impressive, they have been purchased. What to do with them remains undecided.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Friends
After many years of yearning, I finally own the entire boxset* of Friends, which is probably my favourite TV programme ever.
I know.
Why I love it:
It makes me laugh. Lots.
It brings back happy memories of when I watched it with my own friends.
I am totally in love with Chandler. Really.
Ross and Rachel. Awwww.
It's all really nice. I like nice these days.
I am partway through series 2, Ross and Rachel have just got together properly and it's all quite lovely. I am doing very little else with my time.
Yes. Boring. There's norralorra point in writing about the content, you either know it by now or you don't.
I may watch some...
* "entire boxset" is not right. The boxset of the entire run of all ten series of Friends" would be righter. But hey ho diddle oh.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
I know.
Why I love it:
It makes me laugh. Lots.
It brings back happy memories of when I watched it with my own friends.
I am totally in love with Chandler. Really.
Ross and Rachel. Awwww.
It's all really nice. I like nice these days.
I am partway through series 2, Ross and Rachel have just got together properly and it's all quite lovely. I am doing very little else with my time.
Yes. Boring. There's norralorra point in writing about the content, you either know it by now or you don't.
I may watch some...
* "entire boxset" is not right. The boxset of the entire run of all ten series of Friends" would be righter. But hey ho diddle oh.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Positively pointless.
I'm feeling shy.
Yes.
Insecure.
Yes.
Suffering from blogger's block.
Yes.
Anxious.
No, not really.
Fraught.
Nope.
Exhilarated.
Not that either.
Green.
Excuse me?
Green.
Er, no.
Sleep now.
- Posted for the entire purpose of keeping a promise I made to myself but being devoid of comment. I understand. It doesn't really follow that anyone else will.
Yes.
Insecure.
Yes.
Suffering from blogger's block.
Yes.
Anxious.
No, not really.
Fraught.
Nope.
Exhilarated.
Not that either.
Green.
Excuse me?
Green.
Er, no.
Sleep now.
- Posted for the entire purpose of keeping a promise I made to myself but being devoid of comment. I understand. It doesn't really follow that anyone else will.
Monday, 4 January 2010
Blessings
Happiness today came in the form of:
(1) Snow. (as previously mentioned. It lingers. It falls some more).
It's pretty. It requires the wearing of hats, boots, scarves, big coats and gloves. It's an excuse to not do anything. And it's pretty, not much beats looking out upon a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
(2) Children.
Mine, that is. Four year olds are amazing and mine are quite definitely more amazing than any others. I say that with no bias whatsoever.
There is a little girl, who doesn't belong to me, who is just as amazing as my boys, but she is a very special little girl indeed.
I worked out today what it is that I do with my time when I'm not specifically doing anything else. I puzzled for a long time as to why I didn't seem to do anything that I used to do. What I do is this: watch, and interact with, but mostly watch my children. They are quite the most entertaining pastime ever. Every new thing they do is astounding and it is quite astonishing that this is still true after 4 years. I expect I'll watch them in amazement all their lives. "Yes, that man there, walking along the road all by himself. That's my son you know."
(3) My car, my phone, nifty gadgets.
Materialistic? Why yes.
Recently I was very close to exchanging my car for a VW. Until I drove the VW for a week and then returned to my own car. It is very, very good to drive. The gearbox is not something I've ever noted before but it turns out to be excellent. We are friends once more, we travel through the snow together and we enjoy it, both.
At some point in every day I stop to think about the brilliance of my phone. It's an iPhone you know. You knew? Goodness! It is quite wonderful, it is a part of me now. I don't care what owning it makes me, I love it. Truly. And yes, I want an iMac because then iTunes will work properly, yes, I know and I know, but I would love that truly too. And I would be all the things that would make me. And I wouldn't care in the slightest.
My car and my phone are now united by means of an itrip. Simple little gadget means the music on my beloved plays through the radio in my quite-loved. This brings me a level of joy that is quite ridiculous.
And that will suffice for a trio of blessings. Snow, children, possessions. Happiness.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
(1) Snow. (as previously mentioned. It lingers. It falls some more).
It's pretty. It requires the wearing of hats, boots, scarves, big coats and gloves. It's an excuse to not do anything. And it's pretty, not much beats looking out upon a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
(2) Children.
Mine, that is. Four year olds are amazing and mine are quite definitely more amazing than any others. I say that with no bias whatsoever.
There is a little girl, who doesn't belong to me, who is just as amazing as my boys, but she is a very special little girl indeed.
I worked out today what it is that I do with my time when I'm not specifically doing anything else. I puzzled for a long time as to why I didn't seem to do anything that I used to do. What I do is this: watch, and interact with, but mostly watch my children. They are quite the most entertaining pastime ever. Every new thing they do is astounding and it is quite astonishing that this is still true after 4 years. I expect I'll watch them in amazement all their lives. "Yes, that man there, walking along the road all by himself. That's my son you know."
(3) My car, my phone, nifty gadgets.
Materialistic? Why yes.
Recently I was very close to exchanging my car for a VW. Until I drove the VW for a week and then returned to my own car. It is very, very good to drive. The gearbox is not something I've ever noted before but it turns out to be excellent. We are friends once more, we travel through the snow together and we enjoy it, both.
At some point in every day I stop to think about the brilliance of my phone. It's an iPhone you know. You knew? Goodness! It is quite wonderful, it is a part of me now. I don't care what owning it makes me, I love it. Truly. And yes, I want an iMac because then iTunes will work properly, yes, I know and I know, but I would love that truly too. And I would be all the things that would make me. And I wouldn't care in the slightest.
My car and my phone are now united by means of an itrip. Simple little gadget means the music on my beloved plays through the radio in my quite-loved. This brings me a level of joy that is quite ridiculous.
And that will suffice for a trio of blessings. Snow, children, possessions. Happiness.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Birthday
3rd January 2006. Two perfect little boys are born, making their mother the happiest mother ever.
3rd January 2010. Two perfect little boys, still in the afterglow of Christmas, celebrate their fourth birthday. Two perfect little boys get more presents and are overwhelmed by about 10am.
It's a shame. It's all Christmas rolled into one long stretch of excitement. They don't care particularly what day it is: no Santa?? Bah. If I could give my babies one thing*, it would be a summer birthday.
They would probably request Haribo. They're 4.
*they are already healthy, and brilliantly clever and gifted, and loved.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
3rd January 2010. Two perfect little boys, still in the afterglow of Christmas, celebrate their fourth birthday. Two perfect little boys get more presents and are overwhelmed by about 10am.
It's a shame. It's all Christmas rolled into one long stretch of excitement. They don't care particularly what day it is: no Santa?? Bah. If I could give my babies one thing*, it would be a summer birthday.
They would probably request Haribo. They're 4.
*they are already healthy, and brilliantly clever and gifted, and loved.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Snow
Snow!!! There's been a fair amount of it the last few weeks, a large proportion of which was rock hard ice making any outing an adventure in balance control. Very pretty for Christmas though.
Tonight it snowed and the result was astoundingly gorgeous. Floaty deep cottonwoolesque snow, rendering everything soft focus, muffles and slow. Life slows down prettily, light is diffused and a sense of peace is cast over everything. Driving is a dream: massive concentration, virtually empty roads with only careful, slow drivers for muffled company. Delightful, enough to recapture the joy of driving and restore faith in one's car.
Unless you drive a BMW. Heh heh.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Tonight it snowed and the result was astoundingly gorgeous. Floaty deep cottonwoolesque snow, rendering everything soft focus, muffles and slow. Life slows down prettily, light is diffused and a sense of peace is cast over everything. Driving is a dream: massive concentration, virtually empty roads with only careful, slow drivers for muffled company. Delightful, enough to recapture the joy of driving and restore faith in one's car.
Unless you drive a BMW. Heh heh.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Friday, 1 January 2010
That was the year that wasn't
I guess January 1st is a time to reflect on the previous year and plan for the coming one.
Gah. 2009 was a non event. I watched TV that everyone else has been watching for years - The Apprentice and Strictly - and did little else thanks to whiplash.
A new decade too. More on that another place/time.
New Year's Resolution:
Be good.
Exciting, huh? I'm not going to do things I'm not supposed to do and I am going to do the things I should.
Diaries ahoy, I am going to attempt to blog each day and see how long it takes to descend into weather reports.
Shush.
Sleep now. N'night.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Gah. 2009 was a non event. I watched TV that everyone else has been watching for years - The Apprentice and Strictly - and did little else thanks to whiplash.
A new decade too. More on that another place/time.
New Year's Resolution:
Be good.
Exciting, huh? I'm not going to do things I'm not supposed to do and I am going to do the things I should.
Diaries ahoy, I am going to attempt to blog each day and see how long it takes to descend into weather reports.
Shush.
Sleep now. N'night.
- Posted without any claim to factual correctness or interest to any living person. Brought to you by the combined wonder of BlogPress and iPhone.
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Books and the failure to read them
I can't edit this list where it's been. I am not going to read most of them in the next fortnight, so to record for posterity, the books I didn't get round to this year:
Terry Pratchett - Hogfather
Alison Weir - The Lady Elizabeth
Simon Hoggart - The Hamster that Loved Puccini
Andrew Davidson - The Gargoyle
Richard Hammond - On the Edge
Nicci French - The Safe House
Mark Steel - Vive La Revolution
Mark Watson - A Lighthearted Look at Murder
Mark Watson - Crap at the Environment
Phillip Pullman - Northern Lights
Phillip Pullman - The Subtle Knife
Phillip Pullman - The Amber Spyglass
Simon Winchester - The Surgeon of Crowthorne
Simon Winchester - The Map that Changed the World
Jasper Fforde - Well of Lost Plots
Jasper Fforde - Something Rotten
Jasper Fforde - First Among Sequels
Lionel Schriver - We need to talk about Kevin
Andrew Collins - Where did it all go Right?
Andrew Collins - Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
Andrew Collins - That's me in the Corner
Derron Brown - Tricks of the Mind
Lynne Truss - Talk to the Hand
Mark Kurlansky - Cod
Robert Winston - Human Instinct
Robert Winston - The Human Mind
Lynn Sloman - Car Sick
David Banister - Unsustainable Transport
Jeremy Paxman - The English
Mark Haddon - A Spot of Bother
Donna Tartt - The Secret History
Ian Marchant - Parallel Lines
Steven Pinker - Words and Rules
Ian Stewart - Professor Stewart's Cabinet of Mathematical Curiosities
Ben Goldacre - Bad Science
Robert Peston - Who Runs Britain
Val McDermid - The Distant Echo
Val McDermid - Beneath the Bleeding
Sebastian Faulks - Devil May Care
Sebastian Faulks - Engleby
John Humphrys - Devil's Advocate
John Humphrys - In God We Doubt
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Terry Pratchett - Hogfather
Alison Weir - The Lady Elizabeth
Simon Hoggart - The Hamster that Loved Puccini
Andrew Davidson - The Gargoyle
Richard Hammond - On the Edge
Nicci French - The Safe House
Mark Steel - Vive La Revolution
Mark Watson - A Lighthearted Look at Murder
Mark Watson - Crap at the Environment
Phillip Pullman - Northern Lights
Phillip Pullman - The Subtle Knife
Phillip Pullman - The Amber Spyglass
Simon Winchester - The Surgeon of Crowthorne
Simon Winchester - The Map that Changed the World
Jasper Fforde - Well of Lost Plots
Jasper Fforde - Something Rotten
Jasper Fforde - First Among Sequels
Lionel Schriver - We need to talk about Kevin
Andrew Collins - Where did it all go Right?
Andrew Collins - Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
Andrew Collins - That's me in the Corner
Derron Brown - Tricks of the Mind
Lynne Truss - Talk to the Hand
Mark Kurlansky - Cod
Robert Winston - Human Instinct
Robert Winston - The Human Mind
Lynn Sloman - Car Sick
David Banister - Unsustainable Transport
Jeremy Paxman - The English
Mark Haddon - A Spot of Bother
Donna Tartt - The Secret History
Ian Marchant - Parallel Lines
Steven Pinker - Words and Rules
Ian Stewart - Professor Stewart's Cabinet of Mathematical Curiosities
Ben Goldacre - Bad Science
Robert Peston - Who Runs Britain
Val McDermid - The Distant Echo
Val McDermid - Beneath the Bleeding
Sebastian Faulks - Devil May Care
Sebastian Faulks - Engleby
John Humphrys - Devil's Advocate
John Humphrys - In God We Doubt
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I am back
Oh dear. I now have the ability to blog again, and I have 8 months worth of inanity to blog.
For the record, the new ability to blog is brought to me by Blogpress, created by Google.
I can even add a photo. Look:
Wow. That was a bit easy. My love for Google is only surpassed by my love for Apple and yes, I do know, and yes, I would.
It remains to be seen if the crazy random new paragraphs appear or if the formatting is as it should be.
Apparently Twitter will automatically be updated with my blogs. How exciting! I may manage to tweet less: I never did get the hang of concise.
So. Here I am. The question now is:
Why did it take me 8 months, and the suggestion of somebody else, to look for a Blogger app?
Well. More to follow. I am quite beside myself with joy.
Zzzz.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
NB That there signature may well be turned off very soon, but I am filled with love for BlogPress just now.
For the record, the new ability to blog is brought to me by Blogpress, created by Google.
I can even add a photo. Look:
Wow. That was a bit easy. My love for Google is only surpassed by my love for Apple and yes, I do know, and yes, I would.
It remains to be seen if the crazy random new paragraphs appear or if the formatting is as it should be.
Apparently Twitter will automatically be updated with my blogs. How exciting! I may manage to tweet less: I never did get the hang of concise.
So. Here I am. The question now is:
Why did it take me 8 months, and the suggestion of somebody else, to look for a Blogger app?
Well. More to follow. I am quite beside myself with joy.
Zzzz.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
NB That there signature may well be turned off very soon, but I am filled with love for BlogPress just now.
May be back...
Well, I done finded an app from Google that should let me blog from the phone, in absence of a functioning neck and subsequent ability to use the PC.
So far, so no posts.
Further investigations required but this may be the end of the blog hiatus.
Shush. Nobody makes you read it.
Later... !!!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
So far, so no posts.
Further investigations required but this may be the end of the blog hiatus.
Shush. Nobody makes you read it.
Later... !!!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Games and what not
I just finished watching Charlie Brooker's Gameswipe and aside from being totally in lust with Mr B (reverse psychology - he says "I am
unattractive", I think "well, I'd do you", he wins. In a manner as it's all theoretical and we're never likely to meet but one assumes other girls think like me, maybe, well, possibly) I am reminded of my love for games.
That I never play any more because it hurts my neck.
That is not true.
I always play games. At the moment it is Flight Control on the iPhone. Ace. But I don't play Wii games much.
I have already blogged about my love for Mario and hatred for driving in circles, I'm
phoning it here so if you care (which you don't but might have done in a parallel universe) you will have to sift through the links on the right there to 'Mario'.
Of course you remember. Yes, I have been neglectful, it's the neck you know.
Onward. Gameswipe was superb by the way, if you oafishly forgot to watchmor record it, see it on iplayer.
I have completely forgotten the point. Um. GTA not confusing with real
life. Been said. Chuckie Egg best early game. Been said.
I bet I am the only person I know that has played JCB Digger on the BBC.
I have no point. In nearly 3 months - nothing. Back to pondering why good looks and a love for games are mutually exclusive. And why is it that the former are always the more attractive (within boundaries that do not include World of Warcraft or similar). It's a mystery.
unattractive", I think "well, I'd do you", he wins. In a manner as it's all theoretical and we're never likely to meet but one assumes other girls think like me, maybe, well, possibly) I am reminded of my love for games.
That I never play any more because it hurts my neck.
That is not true.
I always play games. At the moment it is Flight Control on the iPhone. Ace. But I don't play Wii games much.
I have already blogged about my love for Mario and hatred for driving in circles, I'm
phoning it here so if you care (which you don't but might have done in a parallel universe) you will have to sift through the links on the right there to 'Mario'.
Of course you remember. Yes, I have been neglectful, it's the neck you know.
Onward. Gameswipe was superb by the way, if you oafishly forgot to watchmor record it, see it on iplayer.
I have completely forgotten the point. Um. GTA not confusing with real
life. Been said. Chuckie Egg best early game. Been said.
I bet I am the only person I know that has played JCB Digger on the BBC.
I have no point. In nearly 3 months - nothing. Back to pondering why good looks and a love for games are mutually exclusive. And why is it that the former are always the more attractive (within boundaries that do not include World of Warcraft or similar). It's a mystery.
Thursday, 9 July 2009
Blogspace
There's a pandemic (yes, pandemic, it absolutely qualifies) afflicting Blogger at present.
It affects the ability to form words into coherent sentences and transfer them into type.
A number of key blogs have been infected with this potentially lethal condition.
Suspected reasons for succumbing to this devastating state of being:
1) having something better to do.
This may be an urban myth, but there is increasing evidence that some bloggers have been doing Other Things.
2) Illness, pain or suffering.
While this is clearly not a valid excuse for neglecting one's duties as a blogger, it's one which seems to have a profound effect on one's ability to spraff on.
3) Lethargy and the dangerous 'Being Really Pissed off at the Internet and all who sail in her'. Those who suffer from this either feel the cretinous population of the 'net simply don't deserve time and words devoted to them, or they feel uninteresting and that the genius population of the 'net don't deserve being inflicted with drivel.
So what can you do? Adopt a blogger. Build them a secure and cosy nest to
blog from.
Or if it yourself that is suffering, then a daily dose of calendula will have the expected effect.
Annoyingly required disclaimer: this is not aimed at anything: no particular blog or any person is implicated. For the record, my own lack of bloggage is due to a mild case of reason 2.
It affects the ability to form words into coherent sentences and transfer them into type.
A number of key blogs have been infected with this potentially lethal condition.
Suspected reasons for succumbing to this devastating state of being:
1) having something better to do.
This may be an urban myth, but there is increasing evidence that some bloggers have been doing Other Things.
2) Illness, pain or suffering.
While this is clearly not a valid excuse for neglecting one's duties as a blogger, it's one which seems to have a profound effect on one's ability to spraff on.
3) Lethargy and the dangerous 'Being Really Pissed off at the Internet and all who sail in her'. Those who suffer from this either feel the cretinous population of the 'net simply don't deserve time and words devoted to them, or they feel uninteresting and that the genius population of the 'net don't deserve being inflicted with drivel.
So what can you do? Adopt a blogger. Build them a secure and cosy nest to
blog from.
Or if it yourself that is suffering, then a daily dose of calendula will have the expected effect.
Annoyingly required disclaimer: this is not aimed at anything: no particular blog or any person is implicated. For the record, my own lack of bloggage is due to a mild case of reason 2.
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