Monthly Archives: December 2012

DIY fail:

Lesson learned Thank you piles of unsorted books for breaking my fall off that ladder.

Losses: One destroyed (work!) ladder, one snapped drill bit.

Gains: Some spectacular cuts and bruises in the morning i’m sure, knowledge not to drill whilst stood sideways on a ladder, and a sense of amazement that I can walk and talk.

I’m pretty sore right now, as I have large slashes across the backs of my thighs that were caused by the edges of the books when I landed backwards upon them.

One leg of the ladder gave way whilst I was drilling holes to mount one of those blinds I was nervous of tackling. So now I have injuries, no ladder to reach up to where I need to install the blinds and continued daylight where i’d really like to have none.

As I type i’m monitoring the weird sensation in portions of the skin on my thighs and back; the cuts are increasingly painful but also some areas of my skin are insensitive to touch. When I breathe in I feel like i’ve crested a roller-coaster, that sort of fizzy feeling inside, and I feel cold. Going to put on my down jacket and see how things go over the next hour. If no improvement, it’ll be off to A&E with me. JOYS.

Update 21:25 – After over an hour of lying on my bed wrapped up in my coat with my feet raised above the rest of me, I still feel pretty weird, and i’m not very warm at all. Hmmm. My skin’s not cold, and I can still feel all the parts of me, so I think staying at home is the best idea. Think i’ll get some tea and toast.
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Back…

More to follow. Leia Ewok Village and Caversham Princess are both coming to visit over the next two days which is going to be grand.
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Thanks, Andy.

Andy Says:

Flavorwire – Andy Warhol’s Best Advice about Art [via]
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Freedom

Off from school then for a couple of weeks for the much unanticipated Christmas.

Yay?

It was a half day at work yesterday, so I hit the supermarket on the way home to avoid the crowds later on (though the place was rammed anyway) and experienced the novelty of shopping knowing I could put things in a freezer. Buy one pizza get one free? Yes please. Alas however, I forgot to buy ice-cream.

Bobby Convey came over for booze, chat and a smorgasbord of high calorie finger food; the last time I invited anyone over to where I live must be at least a couple of years back. Not being ashamed of where I live – another novelty. It was great to see Bobby, and it was particularly interesting to hear how she’s getting on on her midwifery course. She graduated in English and Poetry before going on to work in the charity sector, so re-training at thirty-two in a completely different area is nothing short of amazing.

On the flat front, I lugged some things up into the loft, though failed through not being strong enough to carry a TV one-handed and climb up the ladder. Strangely, I am not a monkey. I’ve now built everything except the wardrobe and resurrecting the Expedit; along with putting the blinds up I am somewhat nervous of tackling these tasks, given the size of the pieces and the necessity of achieving a perfectly straight line. I need to think positive thoughts before drilling.

The majority of the boxes and bags taking up space on the floor contain books or clothing, so getting the bookcase and wardrobe up would really help the situation, but this is something that is going to have to wait until after I leave my family. My thinking is that I head up to see them tomorrow, in the car for the first time at Christmas, as there’s nary a snowflake in sight.

It’s dorkily inspired by t’internet, but i’m going through old photos and picking out some to get printed, so I can frame them and mount them on the wall to be viewed rather than sit as files on my computer; i’m selecting a mix of photos of people and places i’ve visited over the last ten years, to remind me of good times and happiness. There are images of family, friends, my home town, snowy scenes, Kew Gardens, New York, Corsica, Berlin, Paris and Pittsburgh. Yes, Meathead does get a look in, but Coppell does not.

Sigh.
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“Congratulations!”

A memory i’d almost forgotten about has been washing around in my head a lot over the last few days; it’s the time of year no doubt.

I was waiting in the departure lounge to get on the flight to Chicago that would reunite me with Coppell after months apart. I was excited yet nervous, as we’d not been in the same room for months, and although we had Skyped, emailed, texted and spoken almost daily, and Coppell had bought me the plane tickets, there was still a part of me that was worried I might get stood up, not picked up from the airport or find that he was married with kids.

I made small talk with the gentleman sitting next to me; he was older, Asian and impeccably dressed in shirt and tie and navy trench coat. He had a considered manner in talking, with a low burr of a voice and a spark to his eye; we talked about our backgrounds and reasons for travelling, and pondered whether all of the passengers were actually going to get on the flight as it was so busy. He told me he and his wife were travelling back from Paris to their home in Chicago. He had lived there for thirty years, but as he was now retired he was getting abroad a bit more

His wife came and sat next to him and I listened to the two of them converse in Japanese; she was also Asian, and I noticed she was slightly hesitant in tackling some of the words she was reading from a book they were looking at together, with her accent very different from his. It was clear that he was guiding her through the pronunciation of a word every so often, and she seemed to appreciate the guidance. She went to check something with the attendants at the gate desk, and me and the man went back to conversing.

He told me that his wife was Japanese-American, and that they made a good team as he would help with her Japanese whilst she helped with his English, as he occasionally stumbled even after thirty years. I told him I was going on to Pittsburgh to see my boyfriend (I used the term for brevity, as I still felt weird using the term), who i’d not seen in over two months, fallen for over the course of days, and that I was a bit nervous.

“Oh, travelling for love? Congratulations!” and he shook my hand.

They began to call people to the gate for boarding; he and his wife bid farewell to each other and then she went down the fast lane to Business Class, whilst he remained seated near me. “She’s a business woman, so deserves to fly business class… I’m retired… I am happy to sit in economy.”
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Skating

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Flat Improvement

So how am I settling in to the new place? Well, thanks.

I now have a phone-line, as well as a bed (I built it yesterday) so no more sleeping on the floor. I am very pleased with it; I went for a metal framed number, with black metalwork and brass knobs, as I have always wanted a bed I could be handcuffed to, and now I have it :)

Still to do, and almost certainly not happening before the Christmas break: Resurrect the Expedit shelves, build another chest of drawers, build – and raise – a rather tall wardrobe, put up the blackout blinds, organise stuff to be recycled or put up in the loft (I am living in an island in a sea of boxes, plastic wrap and discarded cardboard), come up with some sort of solution for cutlery storage (I don’t have a drawer for such a purpose) and get hooked up to the t’internet.

My fingers are still swollen and a bit sore from moving everything, and i’m a patchwork of bruises, but I feel happy to have a phone-line, to be the responsible one paying the bills, to live somewhere I don’t have to listen to conversations a metre from my door, to look out my windows and look at the park, to feel more secure and comfortable in my home.

Still a hell of a lot to do, but things are… satisfying.
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Thirteen Hours

This time last year: Waking up to snow in Pittsburgh, after a thirteen-hour journey to meet Coppell and Meathead. A day spent staring at Coppell and absorbing him, taking in the City of Bridges, getting to know Meathead and eating lots of high-calorie food. Excited, happy and hopeful.

Today: Thirteen hours at work, during which time I spent five hours at Westfield shopping centre chaperoning one-hundred-and-fifty schoolgirls. I watch the planes coming-and-going at Heathrow as we drive pass in the coach.
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Move, Day Two

So, at 9pm I officially left my tiny abode for the last time. When I clicked my seatbelt on as I made the last drive of my stuffed-to-the-gills car, I shouted “YAY!” to no-one in particular.

Fuck me i’m tired. And bruised. And sore. And dirty.

I need to do SO much sorting out of stuff (it got to the stage where I threw unwashed plates into a box just to get them out of my old place), and I lack blinds and heating at the mo (don’t want to plug in the radiators as they are surrounded my boxes), but I should have those things sorted by the end of the week, Or at least I hope so.

Am going to test out the shower, then crawl into bed (or should I say crawl on the new mattress on the floor that I still have wrapped in plastic).
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Move, Day One

Four trips in my little car today, six binbags of rubbish chucked out, two deliveries from John Lewis and Ikea, three flat-pack furniture items completed. Sore hands, sore back, tiiired.

Everything seems okay with the furniture delivery, and the mattress is more comfortable and supportive than the demonstration one I squished into in John Lewis. I’ve still got a lot to do tomorrow, including de-constructing and transporting my bookshelf, which is the one thing I am apprehensive about doing. Should be simple enough to do, and it’s not too heavy to move as it’s mainly made of plywood :)

I need to get my skates on tomorrow and haul as efficiently as I can, even if that means just shoving stuff in bags; I can sort everything out later. I was rather disturbed to find a big pile of earth in the space between the wall and the radiator that has been hidden with boxes for three years. Whether there are creatures that have made this pile, or it’s sediment from the radiator I do not know. Either way, ick.

Last night I spent a few minutes making a list of the things I will not miss about my current place of residence, and what I will miss. On the what I won’t miss list, there are fifteen-plus entries; on the what I will miss there is only one.
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“If you don’t want to propagate more mass murders…”



New Statesman – How the media shouldn’t cover a mass murder

Telegraph – Norway killings: does media coverage inspire copycats?
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In a somewhat odd turn of events, I now have the keys to the new flat in my possession. Contract doesn’t start until Saturday, but if I want to, I can begin moving stuff over. Woop!
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Prep-Fail

Today I dropped out of a social event so that I could spend the day clearing out some of the crap from my room in preparation for the upcoming move.

What did I do today? Woke after nine hours of sleep and spent another couple of hours under the duvet listening to Adam Buxton and Edith Bowman on 6Music, wandered five minutes round the corner to get some lunch and dinner, ate said lunch, had a post-lunch “nap” that lasted two hours.

Tomorrow brings a meeting with the owners and hopefully a signed contract. Despite the furniture i’ve ordered and the list i’ve made of organisations I need to tell about my change of address, once my signature is on the paper the move will only really feel like its actually happening.

Maybe I can sort some books for recycling this evening. After the pizza. And some Miami Vice.
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Sick Day – Furniture

Off work today for the first time since my boob op; instead of alcohol poisoning, I think I picked up something when Girl(ing) About Town, which yesterday led me to going home early from work after throwing up a couple of times during the night and generally feeling ache-filled and pretty shit.

I felt better today, aside from a little innards weirdness, and feel a bit guilty at doing pretty much fuck all with my day, aside from doing some washing and tidying. I did, however, spend quite a bit of time putting together the bulk of my furniture order on the Ikea website, and pondering paint colours to put on the cheap(ish) pine table, chair and chests of drawers I ordered. I am now really looking forward to customising, and it turns out lots of other people are similarly inspired.

I picked a wardrobe shell, large table, chair and two chests of drawers for the grand total of £168, which is within my budget; even if I spend a bit on primer, paint, paper or fabric, I still get more bang for my buck going with plain pine, and will (hopefully) derive some pleasure from adding some colour. The last two things to get are a bed frame and mattress, which are going to add another £200 on top of that, but that’s still within my target, so I should be okay.

I’m hoping to sign the contract on the studio this weekend, and although the thought of moving all my crap and cleaning my current place fills me with dread, I am actually looking forward to the mass flat-pack construction-fest that will hopefully be shortly occurring. I think it’s the lover of Lego in me.

Yes, something to look forward to. I hope it actually happens.
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Wet CrockettPAYDAY.

You will be mine 24×36 inch poster of Don Johnson wet-in-the-ocean.

Oh yes.

You will be mine.


















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Girl About Town

Girl About TownMAC Girl About Town.

This evening’s plan:

Will be worn with freshly cut hair, a dress that’s ten years old (too short, too tight and two sizes too small) and a bit of an attitude.

Hoo-fuckin’-rah.



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