r_scribbles: (D&D Protest)
Dearest Darling fellow shoppers of Canterbury,

You know that bit of tarmac-slash-cobblestone (for Canters is a town of many cobbles) directly in front of you? The bit of High Street where you're shortly about to tread? Well, that's a place that's commonly referred to as 'where you are going', and it's generally helpful if, while you are walking, you cast a glance in that direction every once in a blue moon. Because the thing about a busy High Street, see, is that it generally is quite busy. That is, there are other people trying to navigate it apart from your own sweet self, and it gets very annoying for a person who is looking where she's going to have to try to second-guess which way you're going to aimlessly drift while gazing gormlessly at something shiny in the middle distance off to your right and try to dodge around you, thus avoiding getting knocked into by your cattle-like self. This is particularly difficult when you veer off in one direction, then alter course again without looking and drift across to the other side.

Also, people who walk infuriatingly slowly and take up too much space on the pavement to dodge around without the person behind you having to step out into the road (basically, yer Oldies in pairs and yer great big fatties) - MUST you randomly draw to a sudden halt approximately once every ten steps, causing the human traffic jam of people trying to get past you to constantly bump into the back of you? MUST YOU?!?

Seriously, sometimes I wonder if I'm invisible, which is surely madness as I am currently bloody massive.
r_scribbles: (Thistle Whistles)
Doing a bit of Spring Cleaning now that the sun is out and I'm feeling better. Bloody Hell, but that bathroom was a cesspit. Took ages and a whole heckuvalotta Cif Power Gel. Aaannd I went and said I'd do the lunchtime washing up as well, didn't I?


Hey Ho, have done absolutely no housework since Monday. May as well catch up. Beautiful springy day today. went for a walk around Canters getting bits of shopping, and saw a Monk in a hurry, as well as about 40 French teenagers all just sitting in the High Street outside the cornish pasty shop. Canterbury's really odd.

Oh! And Italian/Scottish Comedy Machiavelli Armando Iannucci appears to be following me on Twitter! I'm usually of the inclination that if a sleb takes any notice of a pleb like me online, it most likely isn't really them, but it seems that it might be genuine from his Tweets, which is why I started following him a few days ago. Feel really under pressure to Tweet amusingly now, although you're very likely to get a 'Bah! Fake!' update from me in a few days.
r_scribbles: (Rimmer - not crazy)
I've unintentionally seen a lot of flashed flesh today. While walking home from the shops I was passed by a (male) jogger in the tiniest shorts imaginable. I mean, we're talking Kylie Minogue hotpants here. Weirdly, this was topped off by a thick sweater and a bobble hat. Maybe he just gets really hot legs when he runs. Anyway, some students shouted 'Who likes short shorts?' at him as they drove by. A well deserved heckle, I thought I was not in the mood to watch his hairy thighs wobbling past me. Buy some bloody jogging bottoms, man. The clue's in the name!

Second flashing was two chavvy teenagers walking down the road with their arses hanging out. Full arses, not just the 'LOL I iz 2 street 2 by a belt!!1!' builder's bum, so intentional in other words. Not a clue why. Hubs decided it was because they were both Gayists and wanted somebody to run up and sodomise them and then scamper away once more without so much as a how-do-you-do. Probably right.

Oh, and I've just discovered that (one of my many) e-Nemesis' is on bloody Twitter. Only because I was trawling through Graham Linehan's tweets for a particular one he'd done and noticed he'd replied to somebody whose online handle sounded familiar. This is the person some of you may remember from about a year back who made a largely failed attempt to 'Spork' (guh, hate using that bloody term) one of my stories. Oh yes, boys and girls, I really am that petty, and I hold grudges like you wouldn't fucking BELIEVE. The Old Testament God has got nothing on me when it comes to grudge-holding. Whenever her name comes up anywhere I check her profile to make sure that she still doesn't have any friends. She doesn't. Might have something to do with her being a humourless, anal-retentive twat. Who can say. And that's all I ever do to her. Scowl, click, check pitiful number of friends/followers, smirk. Oh, you don't want to get on the wrong side of me, my friends. I'll Passive-Aggressive you to death (which might take me a while, since it would make absolutely no impact on your life whatsoever). I am so supercool and awesome that it worries me, sometimes.


Dec. 28th, 2008 02:33 pm
r_scribbles: (Al - 'calm')
Red Herring does a nice little Maternity range. Of course, the Debenhams in Canterbury waited until a few months after I'd had Vi to open up their Maternity Dept. Still, last time I was in there, the little corner of nice stretchy jeans and long tops was still there, so I asked for Debenhams vouchers as part of my Christmas wish list. I got a Debenhams gift card off my SiL, and since the maternity jeans in Dotty P's were a bit uninspiring, had a saunter over there today.

Guess what they've just stopped doing?

RAAAAAAHHHH!!! They must have a fucking radar or something! Hang on lads, Scribbles is up the duff again. Better shut down the little maternity corner, lest we get a fucking customer.

What's the betting it'll be open again by next autumn?

I hate them.
r_scribbles: (Lost Sawyer)
Ahhh, Canterbury. Where else can you see the head of the Anglican church on top of a bus bobbing up and down to 'We Three Kings' like a cheeky Chemistry teacher surreptitiously entertaining the kids behind the headmaster's back at a Christmas Assembly? Where, I asks 'ee?

Didn't stay for all of it because Milady was getting tired and cross, but made it to Jingle Bells, which is very nearly the end anyway. We watched the Tale of Despareux (cheers, Bafta) which is good but a bit confused and episodic. There are hardly any complete goodies and hardly any complete baddies, almost everyone altered their morality based on their circumstances, which I liked, but I thought might be a bit bewildering for kiddiewinks who are used to films where you know who the heroes and who the villains are straight off. Anyway. I loved Miggory. She's a very Scribbles sort of character!

Presents, under tree/in stocking and then bed, I think. I'm knackered today!

Happy Christmas, everybody. Have good 'uns, be sweet to your loved ones, feel the cheer and so on.

r_scribbles: (Al - 'calm')
Oh dear, Vi nodded off in her pushchair on the way back from Sing & Sign, so she'll probably not nap for very long :(

Still freezing here, although in true British fashion the weather has decided to go with freezing rain instead of fun, fluffy snow.

Oooh, I forgot to tell you about the Scary Woman when we went out for our walk yesterday. She seemed innocuous enough, looked like a student, maybe about 25ish, although she was carrying two Netto carrier bags, which is usually a fairly good Nutter indicator. We were talking Vi for a brisk Sunday stroll to the Cathedral and back.

"Excuse me," she said politely, in a tone that suggested she was about to ask directions, "but how old is your little girl?"
And odd question, but sometimes people do ask that sort of thing if they know a child that they think is a similar age or want to ask about local facilities for a kid her age and whatnot. "Nearly two," we answer.
"She your first?"
We are starting to grow a little wary, but it's not the first time I've been asked this question by a stranger... although before now they've always been fellow mums or Nice Old Ladies.
"Yes," we answer.
"You having any more?"
OK. Now it was getting a bit personal. That's a question you don't really ask people unless you know them.
Hubs gives her a vague "Hopefully", and picks Vi up. We start edging around her.
"Mm," mutters the woman, "you're brave." She pauses. "Do you like cats?"
"No," we lie in unison. I can only imagine that her follow-up if we were to say "Yes" would be to pull a bedraggled Tomcat out of one of the carrier bags and ask if we want to do a swap, or to start screaming that it's far, far better to adopt a cat than to bring another hungry mouth into the world when we already had one to be getting along with and Millennium Hand And Shrimp.
"Hmm," mutters the woman, as though pondering a really difficult quandry.
"Anyway," Hubs interjects with forced cheer, "have a nice afternoon".
We scurried off, but I was left with the nagging sensation that maybe she was from the future, trying to tell us something but not sure how to do it. If she'd asked what the year was and then muttered "Thank God... then there's still time" I'd be positive of it.
r_scribbles: (Blackadder Dickhead)
Was woken up at about quarter to three this morning by the sound of smashing glass, really, really nearby. Thought it was our front window. Hubs looked out just in time to see some bloke pegging it down the street, then went and checked downstairs. Luckily, it wasn't our window, but unfortunately, it was our nice neighbours next door (the ones who'd been broken into before), who were out. Hubs tried calling them, but since it was 3am, there was no answer, then rang the police. By the time they turned up some idiot drunk student had passed by, gone 'oooh, what's that?' and decided to touch the broken window. She'd managed not to cut herself but was now concerned that her fingerprints were on it. When hubs went out to talk to the Rozzers she was attempting to give them her details, even though she was so pissed she couldn't remember her phone number or house number. Was quite impressed that the police took it on themselves to temporarily secure the window pretty much there and then (I didn't know it was them that always did that) but not so impressed when either they or whoever it was they'd called to do it were chatting away as they worked as if they weren't in a residential street at 4 in the morning. Took me ages to get back to sleep because I was so jumpy.

Seriously, since we moved here 2 and a half years ago:
Our car windscreen has been smashed twice
Our car's been walked over once
Our back windscreen wiper's been ripped off
Our wing mirrors have been ripped off countless times
We've given up leaving the bin out any day but bin day because it was forever being tipped over
Our door's been kicked or fallen against several times
So many 'hilarious' games of knock-a-door-run in the middle of the night - so much so that even in the early evening if we're not expecting anyone we won't even bother going to the door to see if anyone's there unless they knock twice
Two neighbours have had their windows smashed.

We don't want to move, because it *is* a nice house, cheap and just the right size, plus moving is a stress. But seriously, the vandalism's getting ridiculous. We really need CCTV on our street but I doubt we'd ever get it, no matter how much we complain. Not least because our Council lost all their money out of Icelandic banks. Even if these people are caught, as the ones who smashed the hairdresser's window when we lived in the old flat were, all they get is a tiny fine - not even enough to cover the re-glazing costs. How is that going to put anyone off? Nah, charge the cunts a couple of grand at the least, or a month cleaning the streets at four in the morning or something. Bastards.
r_scribbles: (Lost Sawyer)
Yay! In the end, [livejournal.com profile] i_just_hide and me did go to a tea shop after all - Ferns, which is above the tourist office, overlooking the Christ Church gate. We sat in a window seat with pots of tea and cake (purchased by Claire - I began protesting that we go Dutch, but had to withdraw when I realised I had about 30p in my purse... I think that means I'm obliged to sleep with her now), watching the Scary Jesus, the buskers (who appeared to be on some sort of shift rotation) and the hoards of Bloody Tourists. I thought that such levels of tweeness were pretty typical of The Canterbury Experience. We swapped tales of Attended Weddings From Hell. Hers (dog mauls toddler, child almost loses eye, dog has to be put down) beat mine (horses bolt while carring bride to reception, leaving sad, smashed carriage remains on hard shoulder). Both had animals going crazy, but hers involved facial injuries and was therefore worse.

I then showed her the Wonky Shop, at her request. Not that there was anything about it bar its wonkiness since it's empty these days, but there you go.

It was very pleasant to get a mummy-break, since Hubs is off work this week and so had a daddy-daughter afternoon with Milady.
r_scribbles: (PG Ping)
The Cold That Wouldn't Leave (TM) is still here, hanging around in my sinuses, making things smell/taste funny and giving me headaches. Also, my gums ache (my wonky wisdom tooth is doing something weird again). I am a slave to hot Vimto, headache pills, Bonjella and the humble Vicks Stick at the moment.

I had four (count 'em!) reviews for latest chapter of Rollercoaster this morning! All from different people! Plus I had two yesterday evening. Jenna is obviously angrying up the blood of m'readers. Rollercoaster is threatening to be one of those fics with a trillion reviews. I've never had one of those before! Yes, it's epic, yes it's a romance involving one of the favourite characters and yes it's a bigger fandom than my others, but still, I'm very proud!

I like the new LJ header for Halloween.

I want to watch Dead Set, but it's on E4 and our freeview is so rubbish it can only get a handful of BBC channels if we're lucky :(

Am hopefully seeing fellow Pingist [livejournal.com profile] i_just_hide today since she's coming down to sunny Canters to poke around the Cathedral archives this week. Should be fun. I'm wondering where to take her. A tea shop, I think. Canterbury is not lacking in tea shops.


Sep. 21st, 2008 08:05 pm
r_scribbles: (Blackadder Execute)
First off, from [livejournal.com profile] mrs_picard
If you see this, post a quote from Star Trek in your journal.

"To know him was to love him... and to love him was to know him. Those who knew him, loved him, and those who did not know him... loved him from afar."

...Or words to that extent. I'm terrible at remembering quotes ad verbatim. Perhaps I should have gone with "Oh Shit" instead. We watched "Family" last night, which was a brilliant episode with Picard getting all wibbly and 'falling down in mud', but unfortunately we couldn't take it particularly seriously because Picard's brother was played by this bloke...

Not the one who was Amy Hardwick's Dad in Blackadder, the other one. We might have spent a while quoting Top Secret at one another.

Hubs and I wrote a French version of 'I'm Henry the eighth I am" today called "I'm Louis the sixteenth, I am". We're geniuses.

Vi has learned to tickle. She thinks it's brilliant, and shouts "iggleiggleiggleiggle!" whenever she does so. She also likes pretending to sneeze at the moment.

The students are all back this week. It's making me quite misty-eyed and nostalgic, although not when trying to get groceries in Sainsbury's when it's rammed full of teenagers with their parents stocking up on food supplies for them. Bastards.
r_scribbles: (TNG innocent Data)
God, I love this time of year. Those of you who've been on my F-List for a while will know that I start waxing lyrical around mid September about the smell of the drying leaves and the crispness of the air and the general sense of renewal I always feel with it - a hangover from academia. It's not just that though, not just the memories of the excitement of my friends coming back for Uni (by the first summer break the combined factors of parents splitting, having to pay rent on the student house for the whole year anyway, my boyfriend still living here and it being easier to get a summer job in a busy, touristy city than in Bloody Ilkeston - plus the fact that Canterbury's about a million times nicer than Ilkeston - meant I no longer went home for more than a couple of days at a time). I just love Autumn, especially early Autumn, and especially especially sunny September Sundays like today. There's still a hint of Summer, but the overbearing heat of July and August are gone. The air smells simply beautiful. Everything's just really relaxed. We took Vi out to the park this afternoon, where there were whole families larking about, Dads having a kickabout with their kids and whatnot. The sun was bright and low, everything was bathed in yellow, and when we got back, Violet's hair smelled of grass and leaves.

It is Spider Season, however, but I don't mind that too much, as long as they stay out of the house. We've got a real monster who's spun the biggest web I've ever seen at the back of the house... basically between our kitchen and next door's, spanning both floors of the house. Massive. He's caught some big bastard bluebottles in it, though, so he's very welcome to stay awhile. I don't actually mind garden spiders that much - the ones with the really fat bums - it's the brown house spiders I can't abide. Vi loves them. She can say 'Spider', and gets very excited when she sees one.

She's better today, BTW - still has a streaming nose, but slept normally today and has been very cheerful, if you discount her trying to escape out of her buggy in Sainsbury's.

Had a funny TNG dream this morning that could have served as a Plot Bunny had my subconcious not decided to go down such a silly route with it - Data and Picard had had their bodies swapped by some handy plot device or other (transporter malfunction...? Q...? My dream decided to let me guess how it had happened.) Now - that has the potential to be quite cool, right? Their entire personalities were now lodged in entirely the wrong bodies, with very little idea as to how to even so much as maintain their new forms - doubtful Picard would know how to run a self-diagnostic, and I can imagine Data regularly forgetting to sleep, eat, wash and so on. Not even that, but the amount of information in Data's mind might well overload a human brain, ditto a human personality with complex emotions and so on overwhelming an android brain. You've got Drama there. What did my dream do with this scenario...? Android Picard just being delighted to have hair again. That was it. He kept brushing it. Stupid dream.
r_scribbles: (PG Taffom Alien)
Right. Tis Madam's bedtime. Let's see how this goes.

I am anticipating a Protest Vomit. It's happened before. Should be fun.

Does anybody else sometimes hear Mums calling their baby sons 'Sexy'? Like, as a term of endearment, the way I'd call Vi 'sweetheart' or 'cutie-pie'? Because I hear it loads at the moment, and... it makes me feel uncomfortable. I know it's just semantics, I know it's just a turn of phrase and that these women are very unlikely to actually find their one-year-old sons Sexy, but still. It creeps me out, on several levels.

Today we saw a man completely dressed in blue, his hair dyed blue and blue paint on his face and hands walking down Northgate. Nobody batted an eyelid. Canterbury's just that sort of place. You get the occasional Papier Mache giant walking past you and suddenly you become terribly blaze about this kind of thing. I was more amused by the dirty-blond-and-scruffy teenage boy who hadn't apparently realised that when you are dirty-blond-and-scruffy and go out wearing a dark green TShirt and brown jeans you're going to look like Shaggy off Scooby Doo. Zoiks!
r_scribbles: (Evil Hypnotist)
Oh, Fuck Off! There's nothing not horribly wrong about that story. Robert Downey Jr I could take or leave (although... why can't we use a British chap, again...?) but Ritchie? Why? POURQUOI?!? seriously, I can't see the Venn Diagram of his fans and those of The Great Detective overlapping too well. Guess which circle I'd be in, by the way.

Was reminded of how much I love Canterbury's weirdness today when we found ourselves behind about a dozen zombies on the High St. They'd put loads of effort into their costumes and makeup, luvvem, and were quite merrily stumbling around, trailing limbs and lurching at passers-by. Pretty sure they weren't real. If they were there'd probably be more brain-spillage and less photo-taking.
r_scribbles: (Bollocks!)
Boo. I have attempted to make Vi a baked (new) potato with peas and cheese for her tea, as a change from all that bloody macaroni she usually has as her teatime starch and she wouldn't touch it! Tried some, then spat it out, then refused any more. Ended up eating a very large amount of cheesy peas and some hastily made toast soldiers to make up the carbs. *sigh* So either roast potato is OK but baked isn't or the next time I try her with roasties she'll spit them too. Any ideas for something quick I could do with sweet potato for her? I think they're too big for her to eat a whole one in a sitting, so baking in the microwave is out, and mash is no good because she likes to pick at chunks. My knowledge of potatoes is very limited since I don't really eat them.

May re-attempt rice at some point, but maybe not for a while after the risotto fiasco. That little girl is in danger of turning into a piece of macaroni.

Gorgeous day today, went for a long walk around the other side of the Cathedral... through the Cloisters and the remains of the Monastery. Vi had great fun running up and down the wheelchair ramp in a pretty little gardenny bit, attacking German tourists and petting a dozy cat.
r_scribbles: (Clumsy waiter)
Our tellybox is *still* knackered, but our Broadband switcheroo went fine. We can always watch Ashes to Ashes on the iPlayer.

Why did I decide it was a good idea to go to bed at midnight when my baby has a cold? Madam woke up in a tizz at 4, took a good long while to get back to sleep and then was awake again at quarter to 7. I probably had about 5 hours kip. Feeling OK but I MUST get an early night tonight! No 'Oh, I'll just edit that line of dialogue that's been bugging me' and then ending up writing for another half an hour.

No exciting news to report - the first of our writery jobby irons has slipped from the fire, alas, but these things will happen. I see it as a two-steps-forward-one-step-back thing... we're still a baby step further forward than we were. Hubs is pissed off about it, mind.

Canters stank today, and there were loads and loads of coachload sized groups of French Teenagers ambling about in quadruple file on narrow pavements... I'm not saying the two were related, but both were annoying.

For some reason, MSN's angle on the horrible, horrible unfolding story about the child abuse and probable murders in Jersey is that Bergerac was filmed near it. Yeah, cause that's what we really have to keep in mind - was John Nettles ever at risk?

Through a furze of static today I saw a trailer for some telly programme with Donald Sutherland in it. Unfortunately, I can never see Sutherland Snr without picturing him falling magnificently into a cake (*points at icon*) or noshing on Julie Christie's Lady Garden in Don't Look Now. Dirty boy!
r_scribbles: (Penfold)
As each Birthday approaches I get glummer and glummer :( Poot. It doesn't help that it's so close to New year, already a time of reflection over the past year. It just makes me even more aware of the passage of time, my steady march towards Middle Age and the many things I have yet to do with my life.


Spuddie came down today! I almost hardly never get to see that girl, and I got a whole day of her to myself! She claimed, in her usual brusk fashion to be 'useless with babies' and then proceeded to utterly charm the pants off Vi and be really helpful and engaging with her. Violet loved the buttons on her jumper and spent most of the afternoon trying to eat them. Walked all around Canters so that Spud could point at all the bits that have changed since she lived here. Had hot milkshakes. Maple Syrup. Mmm.

And Mummy's coming down tomorrow. Hopefully. In spite of her previous bad luck with train journeys to and from Canters, and against all logic she has decided to train it again tomorrow, which is, of course, when it has decided to snow. Probably only a couple of cm, not due to stick around for long, but this is Britain and as soon as the weather differs even slightly from being damply overcast everybody panics and the entire transport network collapses in a big quivering heap.

And Hubs started his new job today. I'm really not used to not having him around, and this job's so far away that he has to leave really early, doesn't get home til Vi's bathtime and crucially can't pop home for lunch. I think if I hadn't had Spud's visit to distract me it would have been a really, really long day. *Sigh*
r_scribbles: (Default)
...it's not really Pancake Day, but we got Maid Marian through from LoveFilm yesterday and I've been singing that song all day. Thanks, Baldrick.

They got the papier mache giants out for Le Tour! Seriously, I have yet to witness an event that Canterbury doesn't celebrate through the medium of papier mache giants. Wandered into Zara, which I rarely do. Evidentally it was fate, since they had a super T Shirt on sale with Velma from Scooby Doo on it. I heart that girl! Eight sheets. Bargain!

Cooked Vi a new batch of baby food - sweet potato and spinach - a very dark green gloop. This is going to make for some interesting poo poos... as it is, her blueberry cereal makes her poos a horrible swamp green colour. Ho hum. It'll make her big and strong.
r_scribbles: (Not a happy bunny)
Still sad about Kurt but today has been beautiful and summery. Bought a frock for the Hen Night and maybe the wedding as well - it's one of those wrap over frocks with crazy swirling patterns on it. Black, white and green. Me likey. Also trekked up to Mothercare and bought a Changing Bag (complete with portable changing mat so that the palarver with the paper towels will not be repeated) and a little swimming nappy and swimming costume for Vi. They're dead cute! She's got her second round of Jabs tomorrow and I intend to take her swimming once she's recovered from them. She loves kicking her legs and quite likes her bath these days so she should enjoy having a splash about in the baby pool. Plus babies swimming = cute.

Went for a wander through the Cathedral grounds this evening. For some reason, it really smelled of seaweed.
r_scribbles: (BSG shiny metal ass)
Imagine Hitchcock's 'The Birds', remade using French teenagers instead of our feathered friends. That's what town was like today. Yuck.

Also - is it wrong that the opening sequence of 'Sleep Clinic' keeps reducing me to tears of laughter? Seriously - I couldn't breathe. People sleep walking, sleep excersising and falling out of bed in fast motion is always going to be hysteria-inducing for me!
r_scribbles: (Default)
To quote Edmund Blackadder: 'I believe the phrase rhymes with "Clucking Bell".'
Yes folks, the crappity continues. The first lame part of yesterday (which resulted in me being covered in plasters) was my Diabetes Test which I found out this afternoon I have failed with flying colours - so, yet more blood tests tomorrow (have I mentioned my terrible phobia of having my blood taken, by the way? It's three-fold - I hate limb constriction, even for blood pressure tests, so I panic as soon as the torniquet goes on, I don't like needles in general and I also hate veins so the feeling of the needle going in, blood being drawn and the needle coming out again freaks me out no end... unless a Path Lab nurse is doing it it tends to result in my hyperventillating, crying and/or nearly passing out. Joy!) and a further restricted diet at best, possibility of lifelong Diabetes and problems for the babe at worst. Very despondant and angry with myself since there is no history of The Big D in my family - if I do have fully fledged Gestational Diabetes now I only have myself and my weight to blame.

Right, that bit of self pity over I may as well tell you that this will be a longer and more Everyday post than usual since I will be copying it onto http://www.historymatters.org.uk/output/page97.asp once I'm done. They want as many British bloggers as possible to record 'This Day In History', so my fellow British LJ Chums might want to get involved too.

Unfortunately, besides my Joyous news, not much has happened today. Much happened yesterday, which I still can't be bothered to go into, but in a nutshell I had my Diabetes test in the morning and went to the CAM Expo in London for work in the afternoon.
The list of annoyances goes thus:
Due to staff shortage at the KCC Birthing Unit and every heavily pregnant woman in the Canterbury area deciding to go into labour that day, waited an hour for first bit of test, listening to women scream and plead for an end to their agony, while thinking 'Only 3 months now and that'll be me!'
Panicked and nearly fainted at 1st lot of blood tests.
Waited another 2 1/2 hours for second bit of test.
Panicked again at 2nd lot of tests. The vein in the crook of my elbow had to be abandonned and they took it from my hand, which hurt.
Discovered far wing mirror was falling off - it eventually came off and swung around its wire on the A2 up to Smokey. Spent entire journey worrying that it would swing too heavily on the window and smash it.
EcXel was too hot and full of teenage girls (there was also a huge Hairdressing show on at the same time - it was like walking through TopShop on a Saturday) and their Car Park was very, very annoying. Cue much wandering around looking for a payment machine that worked, eventually going all the way back to the exhibition centre.
Traffic leaving Smokey an absolute nightmare at only 4pm - took an hour to get from ExCel to the Blackwall tunnel (5 miles if that).

Most of today has been spent complaining about yesterday. Although I did invent a song about a kitten hugging your foot to the tune of Deutchland Uber Alles:
Have your foot hugged by a pussycat,
Stick a tiddles on your toes...

Most of my actual work today comprised of keying in new leads from yesterday, chasing overdue leads and analysis of the Seminar Attendance Sheets from this year's show - hardly the most exciting aspects of my job. The lunchtime conversation with Bossbabies Nanny and the Cleaner (Nanny's Mum) about Vaginal Tearing. Whee!

The History Matters bods want me to say how History has affected my day, which is a little like asking me how Politics affects my day - it's too intrinsic to pin down! Although tomorrow is an important day in my own personal history - it'll be 8 years to the day since my 1st Impro Group at UKCD, where I met many of my best friends and the man who would eventually become Hubbily-Hoo. And I shook my head in despair at a flyer that claimed the inventor of a certain product was 'skilled in the art of alchemy' and was able to tell my Boss that Isaac Newton was also a keen 'alchemist', played with too much Mercury and went potty (apparently he was A Gay as well!). And the Cathederal bells were one of the many things that woke me up this morning, which I suppose is fairly Historic. The first thing that woke me up this morning was the usual Idiot's Parade of students at half 2, incapable as ever of walking home from a nightclub without screaming vaguely agressive inanities, which I suppose is as much a part of Canterbury's history as its Cathederal.

So I thought I'd end on current affairs, since today's is a special post...

Has anybody else heard about this kerfuffle over a BA (I think it's BA) stewardess sacked because she refused to hide a cross necklace from view? I worry about the escallation of silliness over causing Religious Offense usually but I can't see how anybody in their right minds would object so much to a small piece of jewellery to warrant sacking. Apparently they have the same policy on all visible jewellery, no matter what the meaning is to the wearer - does this include stuff like wedding rings, I wonder? I would certainly refuse to remove mine for anything other than hygeine reasons - even then I wouldn't be happy, since I never take it off. When I was in 12th Night since Fabian was obviously not married, I put a sticking plaster on over it, which didn't show from the stage.

And this story always seems to get linked to the Veil Thing, which I've got mixed opinions about - I personally think Jack Straw was needlessly picking away at the Muslim/Non Muslim divide by asking his consituants to Unveil - 'it bothers other people who don't understand it' is never, and never has been a relevant reason to stop doing anything. People tried to stop me doing/wearing oddball things that I wanted to when I was younger, and it's like a red rag to a bull. I merely thought it was all the more reason for me to do/wear it, since the terminally ignorant and 'bothered' would learn nothing until they were forced to face it. They never did of course, but it was never going to stop me. However, if you have somebody wearing clothing that impediments their job, especially if that job is giving kids with learning problems extra communication, it's very unfair to expect those you're paid to help to put in the extra effort to overcome how you have impedimented yourself.

And I just want to finish with the fact that I have come to the conclusion that the Dairylea Dunkers advert is pure evil. School Run Mum. In Urban 4x4. With one whiney kid who's old enough by far to have got a bus home in the back. Already you'd have to show Hitler raping a puppy to get a much more loathsome image. But no, it goes on. 'Muuuu-hu-hummm,' whines the Middle Class arsewit, 'I'm huuuuunnnngry...'
Now if School Run Mum were me, I'd have left him in the woods for the wolves to get long ago. If she were my own Ma, she'd have come out with the line she always used to give me and Sis if we ever asked for a snack/pudding - 'There's plenty of fruit in the fruitbowl'. But no, the waste of DNA need not fear eating something natural, for the plasticine cows are here to help Captain Whiney! In they parachute, leaving him with a pre-packed plastic pot of cheesy goo and the smug knowledge that whingeing will get him whatever he wants.
Two words, kiddo: National Service!

November 2013

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