Month: July 2001

If I had the proverbial three wishes, I would go for:
1) Enough money to pay off all my debts, buy a house, car, and fabulous extravagent pressies for my friends and family; and live comfortably the rest of my life without needing to work.
2) Being fit and healthy the rest of my life.
3) Not needing to sleep unless I chose to (I like sleeping, and having lovely luxurious lie-ins, but sometimes I’d also like to stay up for a week straight doing websites and reading fanfic and so on without the physical exhaustion).
Anyone else?

Very hot again today. And I hear this could go on for some time. I can just tell that I’m going to have to give in and buy shorts. And sunblock. And stuff. Ugh. But as per usual, it’s wonderfully cool in the office. Did I mention that I love air conditioning? If only I had it in my house. *sigh*

I’m beginning to notice a pattern. Every morning at 10am, if I’m still in bed, Willow comes and stamps on me with her pointy little feet, and miows loudly in my face. And then she goes away again. I wonder why. And I wonder what she’ll do next week when I’m back on day shifts, and won’t be there at 10am. Poor little kitty. Awwww.

Megs is doing a 24 hour sponsored blog from 7pm tonight (GMT). So go sing her lullabies and so on, so I don’t have to dish out my sponsor money……. *eg*

After 7 blissful pretty much allergy-free months, hayfever has hit with a vengence today. So here I am, head throbbing, sinuses trying to escape from my face, nose sore, eyes painful, chest tight-but-not-quite-wheezy, skin itchy and jaw achy, trying to remind myself that I do actually feel better now than I did before I took the antihistamine tablet. God, I hate hot weather.

Just saw myself in a mirror. Understand why everyone’s asking me if I’m ill. Crap. [/self-pitying whinging]

(Went to Boots, bought painkillers, took painkillers, am currently waiting for numbness to hit)

Why is it that no matter how I much I shove / punch / kick / poke / beat-over-the-head-with-a-shovel Barry to get him to stop snoring, he never even so much as twitches, let alone shuts up. BUT, when I finally have enough and decide to take myself off to the spare room where I’ll actually get some sleep (yes, I can still hear the snoring, but it’s not in my ear any more), all I have to do is lightly tap him on the shoulder to tell him where I’m going, and he’ll wake up? Aaarrrgghhhhh!

Over on the right there, under ‘also me’ there’s a new little link. Soulfreak is my new rambling space. Specifically, it’s for rambling about Buffy and Angel, possibly posting fic snippets, and that kind of thing. I decided to have it as separate to this blog / journal / whatsis because I feel this place is more about life in general and the BtVS stuff doesn’t fit in, and I also wanted to keep my Buffy rambling in the one place. So there you have it :-)

And by the way, I got an Amazon Wish List – it’s down there on the right, too. Just in case anyone wants to buy me things. LOL. How likely.

So. Provided I have enough money (which is looking increasingly doubtfull, but oh well), shall I get my hair dyed:
(a) Black with bright red streaks
(b) Black with purple streaks
(c) Plain black (this is the money-saving option, since I’ll do that one myself).

I really can’t decide – unless the cashflow situ decides for me – so votes in the comments would be much appreciated….. :-)

Tedium is: stripping out all the shite code from pages that somebody did in Frontpage. Maybe I should’ve just started from scratch.

Oh fer….. I wish my bloody archives would stop vanishing! How often am I sposed to republish, here? Gah. Spose I may as well change the format while I’m at it. You can get sweet little scripts here if you don’t like the way Blogger does the archive listing. Just what I’ve been looking for.

Right now, part of me is tempted to run away. Not as much as I was last night, when I was actually making packing plans and studying maps to see where I could go. And I know of course that it wouldn’t solve everything, and I’d more than likely end up worse off. But the thought is still there. See, it turns out that B seems to be even worse than me at managing money. And that’s not a good thing. I don’t want to have to have all the responsibility for rent and bills and bank accounts, but I think I’m going to have to. Argh!!! I did it in London – every month I’d tell Barry and Anil how much money they owed me, and they’d hand it over. But I thought that when we moved up here, it wouldn’t have to work like that. Wrong again…. *sigh*

So today, I get up and come downstairs to find that the computer is on, and this is open in a browser window. I don’t know how B found it, but yay!! I used to love that programme. Some of the later seasons had scenes from Bodiam Castle in Sussex, near where we lived, and me and Martin used to argue about discuss which bits were from where. Heheheh. It was just cool interactive fantasy, and it was the only prog, on ITV we really watched regularly. Ah, childhood nostalgia……

Testing remotely done dotcomments. *crosses fingers*

And wondering why Blogger doesn’t believe my ftp works when I just got in fine from here….

I took a little bloggy break. Cos lets face it, I type too much when I get going. *g* I had two days off, and shock, horror, I actually didn’t spend the whole time attached to my computer! Most of it, but not all like usual. B and I went to see Shrek yesterday, and then we had pubfood. It was good – film and food both. And when I wasn’t out, I managed to finish off re-doing my fic site. It’s now called Diavolo Nero, and it’s moved a bit. The index page of soulstar.co.uk now has links to all five of the sites that are hosted on it. Oh, and I closed the .nu webring, since it wasn’t going anywhere, and finally moved Soulstar Design to it’s own domain and gave it a slightly (but not much) improved design. Phew!

I need to remember to install dotcomments. Guh.

(19/07 – whoops, posted this yesterday, but forgot to actually publish…. d’oh……)

Now, I was reading Lanie’s journal, and a while ago she’d been wondering about some Briticisms, like what South West 6 was, and so on. Anyway, I sent her an appallingly long and boring email to her about these things, and when I was down visiting the parents (and going to the 4*m gig) earlier this week, I mentioned it to them. And as if often the case when I mention things I know some-stuff about to my parents, I learned a lot more. Did you know that the Tube and the Underground aren’t the same thing? Maybe it’s just me that didn’t realise – the terms are interchanged pretty much, and it’s all the ‘London Underground’. But the Tube trains are the lower, squatter, more rounded ones, like on the Northern line, and the Underground trains are the slightly taller, flat-sided ones, like on the District line. So there you go. And another thing I didn’t know – postcodes only started being used in this country in the 70’s. But in London, the postal districts (like SW6, etc) have been used much longer (they were extended to full postcodes in the 70’s) – when my Dad’s family moved to England (and London) in the 30’s, they were in use as far as he remembers. He actually lived in SW6 – Fulham. Heh.

All this reminds me of another story Dad told me. In the war, he and one of his sisters were evacuated (his brother was in the RAF, and the twins would have just about left school, and were probably doing something war-effort-y – must ask them some time) to Banbury (I think). Dad was about 5 or 6 years old, and thought that London was bigger and better than the country, and apparantly said so quite a lot *g*. He says he particularly remembers declaring that in London even the pints of milk were much bigger. In later years, he realised that of course, this was because the “pints” of milk they had at home were actually quarts. Heheheh. [/boring history ramble]

Oh, and Lanie, before I started rambling there, I meant to say, bummer about your car getting broken into. :-( Moronic bastards. Had a similar thing happen to me once – I was driving Mum’s car, parked it for half-an-hour to go to a quick rehersal, and when I came back, the window was smashed, and they’d stolen the tax disk. Lovely. So *hugs* – it’s such a horrible feeling when that kind of thing happens.

I don’t know where my diary is. My ‘real’ diary (as opposed to this virtual, public one), the one I’ve been writing on and off (mostly off, of course) for the last 11 years. Black hardback book, blank unruled pages, flimsy little lock, bought in France in 1990. I’ve had the impetuous to write in it twice fairly recently, but when I actually went to look, I realised I’m not sure what I’ve done with it. I know where it used to be, when I was in London. But since I moved up here… *shrug* Actually, I don’t know where a lot of things are. I really need to finish unpacking those last boxes, sort everything out. It must be around somewhere. I also realised the other day that I don’t know where the key for it is, either. Which is annoying, because the keyring it’s on also has the keys to the padlocks on my rucksack (looking for those was how I discovered my keylessness) and the key to my little lock-box. So now I can’t lock the zips together when I’m travelling, or get to things like my birth certificate, should I need them. I thought I had the keys, you know – thought they were where they’d always been, in a certain drawer, under a certain pile of stuff. But nope. Whoops.