r_scribbles: (TNG erk!)
Oooh dear. Silly self. Posting while under the influence is not a good idea. I couldn't even write straight, and that was 4 hours after I'd stopped drinking! At least I didn't really have a hangover. God knows what I was talking about on Saturday though. All sorts of bollocks, knowing me. It was wicked fun, though.

We were going to watch a Paul Newman film last night in honour of the great man, but we ran out of time. Hubs is currently addicted to Star Wars: Force Unleashed anyway, and I like watching him play it (I've tried playing it myself, but I keep getting killed like a Spazz. Also, it has too many Bosses in it. I can never kill Bosses.)

More Rollercoaster for you! I've pretty much finished all of 'There's No Place Like Home', but most of it is over with the lovely [livejournal.com profile] realmlife for Betaing. It's set during 'Legacy' so it's a long one, and is therefore split into three chapters, by Jove. Here's chapter one.
There's No Place Like Home, Part 1 )
r_scribbles: (H2G2 Advice)
What a flippin' day.

Yesterday, you see, I somehow lost Vi's sunglasses out of the bottom basket of the buggy while at Sing & Sign. I phoned the Surestart centre today after the park (which was full of Charvers... NATIONAL SERVICE!!!) and luckily the receptionist had them. Stupidly, I went out there and then to get them with Vi in the buggy, thinking it was still too early for her to fall asleep... I was wrong. And of course, she woke up the second we got in, and of course, of course she then wasn't at all tired for her nap.

The upshot of which is, there has been no tea/writing/reading break for Mummy today :( Aaaand, of course she fell asleep again on the long walk back from Mothercare (she needs a new summer grobag - got her a vee cute Giraffe one and some new PJs) and again, woke up as soon as we got in. Luckily, she still went down to sleep for the night pretty quickly... I was expecting a lengthy battle.

Mutticare was interesting - she was itching to get out once I'd walked the mile or so to get there with her in the buggy, so I let her have a little scamper. Hmm. She zoned straight in on the Night Garden toys and got a bit cross that i wouldn't let her play with them. She was also jolly amused by a plastic umbrella and some slippers. I then got very cross with myself since after her sunglasses jumping out of the buggy yesterday, her juice cup has decided to do the same today. It was on its way out anyway, but it's still very annoying that a, things keep falling out of the buggy's basket and b, I keep failing to notice. Vi cannot be blamed for these disappearances, BTW, it's under her seat, out of reach. I must have a Gremlin following me around.

I had a lovely bottle of Rose this weekend and now I want more. Boo. Mustn't get back into the habit of drinking regularly.

Am considering making some nifty icons of bonkers song lyrics, but so far all I can think of is the 'Mr Spock' one above from Fun For Me and 'He was white as a sheet, and he also made false teeth' from Frontier Psychiatrist. Any more suggestions? the more 90s, the better.

* May also do 'Make a cup of tea, put a record on' from some-song-or-other by Elastica, as inspired by Lady B.
r_scribbles: (Rimmer - not crazy)
Babe is still Under The Weather. I suspect new teeth, although I haven't been able to feel any yet. That or a cold, since she's very chesty today.

Ye Gods, they really should put an upper age limit on the Playgym! It was rammed today, with lots of kids who were much too old for it since it's 1/2 Term. Not talking Old Old, but 5, 6 & 7 year olds trying to play with equipment set up for toddlers and understandably getting bored and just pegging it around. Not the best idea when there's loads of crawling and wobbly-walking babies about. The Bully was there too. The Bully (and his Mum) piss the crap out of me. No idea what his name is, but he's about two and he's a proper little thug, and on the very rare occasions that his mum is actually within sight of him when he starts being aggressive towards littler kids she still doesn't intervene. I *should* know this kid's name, because he's always at S&S and playgym being a thug, so I *should* hear cries of "Insert-name-here, stop doing that", "play gently, Whatisyourname" and so forth every couple of seconds. I've seen this kid trip other kids up, snatch what they're playing with, push them, hit them, reduce them to crying fits and Mum does absolutely fuck all. Just waits for the bullied kid's parents to remove them from the situation. I've had to tell him off for trying to hit Vivi in the past, which mortified me, but his Mum was nowhere in sight at the time. Anyway, Vi was having a whale of a time running around with a shuttlecock in each hand this morning, the bully decided he was going to snatch them but Vi, bless her to smithereens, thought it was a game! She can properly run now - outrun him, anyway, so she'd wander close to him, staring at him, he'd try to grab her shuttlecocks, she'd turn around and peg it away from him, he'd give up then she'd go back. It. Was. Brilliant.

It's Friday, thank Crunchie, so a chilled night with some pear cider for me (they sell it in 4-pack cans these days! JOY!)

Oh, and Hubs very kindly emailed a screencap from our childhoods that gave us both the fear summat rotten. Anybody remember a character called Noseybonk on Take Hart/Hartbeat?

Absolutely knicker-shitting fucking terrifying. He looks like a Droog. I can picture him battering a woman to death with a dildo while humming 'Ode To Joy' to himself. All that Art loving kids these days have to put up with is their televisual heroes scooting off to hang themselves in train stations. We had Neil Buchanan's mullet and this crap to contend with! It's a wonder we're not all completely warped.
r_scribbles: (Penfold)
This pear cider doesn't taste of pear. It doesn't taste of anything! Going back to St Helier's next time.

I bought Violet 'The House On Pooh Corner' the other day and we've started it as her bedtime book. It's been so long since I'd read the actual books rather than seeing various Disneyfications of the stories that I'd forgotten how lovely the narrative style of it is. Whimsical and meandering. My Eeyore voice sounds like Marvin the Paranoid Android, and my Pooh voice sounds a bit like Tim Nice-But-Dim.
r_scribbles: (TNG Band shot)
Bloody typical. I'm finally happy enough with Harmonica to bite the bullet and post it, and ff.net decides to run slower than a snail on dope going up a steep hill.

On the plus side though, I'm drinking a lovely cold bottle of pear cider. Yum!
r_scribbles: (TNG Off & On)

I have TNG Plot Bunnies.

Begone, damn bunnies! I do not know your vast, vast universe anywhere near well enough to comfortably write fic.

Mummy is down. I am drinking.

Off to watch the Baftas on the telly like a pleb. Bye!
r_scribbles: (Thundercats Panthro)
Oh Jeebus. I'm going to be 28 in, like, an hour. I'm so OLD!

I am also ridiculously tired, having been woken up at half 4 by a hungry babe, then having to get up again at 8 and walk a couple of miles up a hill to the doctor's, then back down again in the fecking snow.

In better news, Mummy made it down fine and has bought me a gorgeous skirt from Monsoon in the sale as a prezzie. the pretty ) Then I made my tasty chicken and celery casserole for tea and won the Trivial Pursuit. Hubs is getting us all a takeaway from The Kashmir tomorrow. Lamb Dhansak and Tarka Daal. Yum!

I am too tired to be drinking, really, but there you go. Birthday privileges. I'm old, so fuck off!


Aug. 5th, 2007 09:25 pm
r_scribbles: (BSG Wild Thing)
Well, I'm back. Actually, we've been back since yesterday, but I spent all of yesterday very hungover and very tired. Hadn't got really, really drunk for over a year and a half, so I think I did pretty well in Gibraltar - I recall talking an awful lot of cock, but I didn't fall down anything or off anything. Hoorah for me.

Apes and Grapes and Great Escapes )
r_scribbles: (Goonies)
What a weekend!

Yes, Friday was spent Sans l'Homme et Bebe in Brighton. Was fun but knackering and I missed Hubs & Vi like Hell.

Things I learned on Friday:

Bingo really makes the time fly by even though it's full of really depressing looking people and stinks of fag ash.

Mika looks a bit like Stephen Mangan.

Mama Cherrie's is absolutely delicious but impossible to find.

Going out in a little summer dress might seem like a good idea at 7pm on a balmy late April evening but it makes the midnight walk back along the sea front bloody nippy.

Singing 'My Lovely Horse' at the top of your voice makes the long, cold walk feel much better.

You need no late night entertainment when you end up in a bar with a group of 50 somethings all Dad Dancing.

A seafront B&B might seem like a nice idea when you check in, but when it's a major thoroughfare and has two late night bars and a takeaway beneath it you might not get a great night's sleep.

So after a few hours sleep I bid Claire's hens adieu and, miraculously un-hungover, went back to Canters to see my little family and also Anna & Russell and Ian Harv & Sadie who had come down to visit. Plus Jools & Sylv in the evening. Good fun but bloody hectic. We were both abolutely knackered by the time everybody left. Vi slept straight for over 10 hours - very quietly as well, which did mean that I kept waking up in a panic, used to snuffling, shuffling, blanket kicking etc, and checking she was OK.

Husband has now taken his turn to abandon the homestead (he's going up to a film course in Brum) so I have pootled around a rather lovely French market and really had my back put up by some old bag who started complaining that Vi's sunhat was flopping over her eyes.

BAG: She's dissapearing under her hat.
ME: *tight 'thankyou for stating the bleedin' obvious, now please fuck off' smile*
BAG: (in a pleading tone) she can't see.
ME: It keeps the sun out of her eyes.
BAG: She's not in the sun.

There is not a cloud in the sky today, and this was at lunchtime - really bloody bright. I had happened to stop in the shade of a market stall and - shock horror - hadn't woken Vi to remove her sunhat or push up the brim. Ooooh, call Social Services! BAG then must have finally read my irritated expression at her vague insinuations that putting a 3 month old baby in a wide brimmed cotton sunhat on a hot, bright day was somehow cruel, since she made a little jokey comment about Vi wanting to see what she could buy and scurried off. Seriously - why do total strangers feel the need to be so fucking intrusive? Why couldn't she just tell the truth - that she wanted to gawp at my pretty wee tyke but there was a big floppy hat in the way? guh.
r_scribbles: (Default)
Ah... sweet sweet booze! The much refrigerated can of cider that has been staring at me all week is finally being put out of its misery. Plus my lovely customer delivered my mead today so I have that to look forward to as I watch Scrubs/Scribble.

I wanted to go out for a Pimms O'Clock in a local Beer Garden but for some inexplicable reason the whole of Canters suddenly stinks of manure, so I think we'll give that one a miss.

Went to the new and improved Morrisons today (it has a pie shop!) and bought some prunes to snack on (yes I know... not very trendy, but they're tasty and good for me.) The packet was adorned with a picture of a wombat in a hammock. Am I missing something, or is there in fact no link whatsoever between an idle marsupial and the digestive-friendly snack of the elderly?

Also I am amused by the fact everybody's started to market prunes as 'dried plums'. It seems that prunes have had a bad rap lately.

Word De Jour - Spork.
r_scribbles: (Default)
So my second interview has been pushed back to Thursday. Gah! Still well nervous - I HAVE to get out of my current job. It's such a big pile of wank.

Still - as from tomorrow, I can drink again! Yippee!
It's been a really tough week. A year or so I wouldn't have thought I'd be capable or going eight nights without alcohol, but I've nearly done it. There is a lovely cold can of cider waiting for the weekend. Plus one of my customers has got me a bottle of Mead! Ye-haw!

No time to scribble tonight due to the pooting curfew, but the Alt Eppie (which actually has turned into alternative versions of two episodes instead of one and which, after long deliberation, I have decided to call Life Is Beautiful) has but a few more scenes in which to tie up loose ends and should be completed over the weekend. People are chomping at the bit for another installment of the Tomb Raider story, so I want to get the next chapter started too.
r_scribbles: (Default)
Sometimes I love living Canterbury for its sheer, wonderful weirdness factor.

Spotted today: two monks (we get a lot of monks) enjoying frappucinos outside Cafe Nero. One was wearing a baseball cap.

Am feeling much better after 24 hrs on antibiotics but need to keep taking them for another 6 days. Not drinking when you feel really ill is one thing - not drinking on a Saturday night when you feel fine and dandy is a horse of an entirely different colour. At least I can enjoy caffeine again, and am drinking copious amounts of Chai Tea.

Poo Roll had tea with Uncle Jim Broadbent last night. Bastard! She reakons he's way too nice to ever ask me leave. I am now, officially, sulking.

Oh well, at least I have my health back. Muchos scribbling tonight, methinks.
r_scribbles: (Default)
Editor in Chief just called me re job to let me know I'm through to a shortlist of three!

I've got a day's work experience in which to prove myself in a week or two!

Happy now - and off to get stinking drunk. Hubby under orders to bring me home in time for Lost, though.


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