localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
So I can't remember if I've mentioned but my library job has been on shaky ground for a while. We are very lucky in our area that our council are planning on keeping all libraries open, but we did have the weekend hours cut a couple of years ago (thirding my pay) and they've just finished another consultation and begun to send staff letters. The new opening hours are actually quite reasonable, although the Saturday's won't open till 10 which as a morning person myself I would not enjoy at all as a user. But, and the writing has been on a wall since the consultation started, their plans did not seem to include any Saturday-only posts. So the three of us who work Saturdays but have jobs in the week all could kind of see where things were going.

And I got my letter today formally informing me that my post is being 'deleted' and I am 'at risk' of redundancy- I am welcome to apply for any of the other library posts but to do any of them I would not only not be able to do my weekday job (so swapping a full time, permanent contract job for a part time-less money post) but also in doing so, should I be successful I would be robbing one of my co-workers of a post which might be their only source of income.

So yes. None of us will be doing that one.

At present it looks like I will finish on 11th April (which is, incidentally, my Saturday to be in so I will actually work my last day unless I have some leave hours to book it off). I will miss it. I love my little library Saturdays- love the people, the conversation, the books. At least I'll still have the books.

Between that and St Raphael's closing (just a few weeks to go now), plus everything horrible that has happened the past couple of years I'm feeling a bit wobbly. I don't like all this change and I especially don't like so many endings of things. WHY DO THINGS HAVE TO CHANGE WHY CAN'T EVERYTHING JUST BE THE SAME FOREVER THE WAY I LIKE IT
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Hymns, according to the hymn book, we could have had this morning:

Abba, Abba Father (you are the po-o-tter we are the clay..)
Our God Reigns
Sing a new song to the Lord
Stay Awake
Tell Out My Soul (the GREATNESS OF OUR GOD- sorry, one of my favourites)
The Magnificat
You Shall Go Out With Joy

Instead we had:

-unrecognisable dirge (seriously, I have no idea what it was meant to be)
-dirge chant (sounded pretty damn Lenten to me)
- Deep Within sung two octaves two high (blegh)
- Let Us Build a City of God (decent)


Oh and apparently FrJoe has decreed that servers are to no longer put the cruet on the altar prior to the gifts "the altar is not a shelf". He wasn't even there this week and he's still p-ing me off.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Basically my body has reacted to the final cumulation of my months of stress about the conference by going HERE HAVE LOTS OF SPOTS AND MOOD SWINGS. Which is...interesting. And by interesting I mean dreadful, particularly as I'm meant to be having my photo taken soon for the departmental Christmas card and there is little less appealing than a gingerbread man with fucking spots.

Yesterday I wrote out the "first wave" of Christmas cards- by this I mean the cards that need posting with stamps but do not contain presents. This is because not all of the presents I have ordered have yet arrived.

Today I got home only to be summarily kicked out and sent down the road because Nanny and Auntie Maura had gone to visit relatives in Brum and Auntie Irene was minding Gunner, so I needed to go and mind Fern and Snoopy (Mum had a meeting). It was fine, they ate every bite of my chicken noodles with me and we had a little play.

Got home and watched two episodes of Duckula, the second of which was interrupted by some bastards throwing eggs at the window. Cue cleaning in high winds and dark mutterings. If I ever ascend the throne, know that bromide in the water is sometimes the only way.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Mass was hard today. I was serving solo with one of the least-liked priests we've got. He's weaselly, snide and astoundingly sexist and dismissive. There have been a few run-ins already. Mum very politely did not correct his Latin, which he was declaiming at her to demonstrate his surely superior knowledge of everything. *scowls*. Endeavoured to behave myself, respect the cloth if not the man, as a wise lady once told me, but honestly it was like serving for the most objectionable teenager-!

We have so few Masses left to us, I wondered idly if a petition could be made to only get Fr Tony and Bish John who we like, until they close us?

To make the mood much worse the hymns were absolutely dreadful. Not a whiff of 'O Come O Come Emmanuel', some misery-making one at the begining and two desultry 'chants' at Offertory and Communion. I didn't sing the latter one- fed up of it! Made me recall that line from Goodnight Mr Tom "Yer call that singing? You're meant to raise them up not bury them!" (paraphrasing).

Anyway, the weather (I'm British, I'm blogging about the weather. I'm sorry. But not that sorry. It's a reflex.) was sudden downpours of rain and hail interspersed by sun, so Auntie Irene was not best pleased as she wanted to get out and brush the water off the veranda. She was then subsequently even less amused as she was going to go and get petrol and went out to find her car has gone kaput. Uncle Paul said it is a garage job (he was a mechanic by trade for years) and our other family experts concur with this so I have a horrible feeling that she's going to be wanting money for Christmas- the dog's vet bills have already been high enough lately.

Cooked the dinner, did a quick nip to the shops for work-supplies and then a quiet couple of hours washing up and then scrubbing the bathroom. Rock and roll lifestyle. Oh, and watching Songs of Praise which had much better bloody hymns so there.

Trying not to thing about tomorrow. Oh heavens. Bloody conference. Shitshitshitshitshitbuggerwhatzitpoo.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
So in just about an hour I will be picking up my cassock, medal and belt and being dropped off at St B's to serve at the Welcome Mass for our new Archbishop. The one who has the somewhat unenviable task of approving the plans to knock down St Raphael's. I don't blame him for it- no matter whether he approves the (frankly, rather dumb) plans the 'team' has 'put forward' or whether he knocks them back- either way our days have been numbered a long time and the new guy doesn't even know anything about the area that would enable him to make a decision weighted on more than what 'the team' plans to tell him.

I am very nervous about this Mass. Not because it is the Archbishop, I've done this shebang before, but to me a Mass of Welcome should be about being friendly to him, saying 'Hi, welcome, we don't bite or hate you or anything,' and this really, really isn't. It is political. I have little option but to serve because Napoleon has been put in charge and he already thinks little enough of me and our little group at St Raphael's and at least one of us needs to be there to show face and the girls simply will not go. But also Terry, who serves in the week, can't go due to a bereavement in the family so I have no idea who will be there, if there will be any friendly faces at all or if it will all be look-down-the-nose-ing and supercillious self-importance. Also the local team is having a home match with one of our biggest rivals, the Wolves, so the Mass may be raather a poor show. (And Hahaha to whichever eegit planned that one) I don't know whether this will mean we will get only a small number of servers- which looks decorus but I don't like serving at St B's because I never know where anything is- or if it will be similar to the last joint Mass we did for something which was, quite frankly, a farce in which the servers more than outnumbered the priests- it looked absolutely bloody ridiculous.

I have told mum to please have a bottle of ale waiting for me when I get home. I'm sorry, God, but I need something to get me through this without having to bite my tongue in two.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
My dear internet,

I am writing to you now, sad and sick at heart, to make one thing totally clear:

This morning, I am ashamed of my country.

For those who don't know, the European election results came in last night and have revealed that there are far more fascists in the country that I ever would've thought, or else idiots duped by the revolting rhetoric of both the Tories and UKIP themselves, seduced by ideas of "British bulldog" spirit into voting for racists, homophobes and bigots. I thought, after the lib dems changed their colours to blue to get in with Dave and the rest of their rich Tory mates at the last general election that britain was bad enough off but this just goes to show it can always get worse. I am of course especially horrified at the behaviour of people I went to school with in voting for a party that so vociferously advocates sending "them back where they came from"; I attended a Catholic school in England in a town built on welsh, Scottish, Polish and Irish immigration and industry.

I apologise, to everywhere, for my country's abhorrent idiocy.

I am so very ashamed.

Your localfreak
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
I like crossover fiction. Not ALL crossover fiction, obviously, but I like stories where, for example, a character in one fandom time or dimension (or both!) travels to another and has to learn to live there, as a general rule. It is nothing new and sometimes it can introduce me to new fandoms- I learnt more from LOTR from reading cheesy HP/Crossovers (although weirdly I only ever like ones in which Harry/Ron/Snape land in Middle Earth, I don't like the Hobbits coming to Hogwarts), but crossovers sometimes can be just FUN. I love the famous Billionaire Boys Club series, for example, where Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark knew each other from childhood. I like Harry Potter landing at Xavier's school (or I would, except I've only found one good fic for this niche, and it is a permanent WIP), I like esama's brilliant story in which Harry Potter, Master of Death, ends up in BBC!Sherlock world and becomes an object of Mycroft's absolute fascination. I like the fics where Bernard Black is actually one of Sirius Black's relations, and ones where he is secretly a Holmes. Or where Harry is 'Mummy' and James and Albus Severus are Mycroft and Sherlock.

So yes. I like crossovers. But it is quite a niche, and that means quite often the number of really excellent fics written that press my buttons right is very small. In Avengers fandom, Loki is probably the most well travelled and (I'm sorry okay!) most of the time that doesn't work for me. I get bored. There's also a lot of Avengers-as-Hogwarts Students which also doesn't work for me; I think it is because I very rarely like 'no-powers AUs' in any of my fandoms- to be magic, mostly, that means they lose their original backstories and I don't like that- which is why I'd prefer Harry or Ron or Hermione or whoever falling into their world but coming from their original dimension.

Except there's not much of this around yet. There's a LOT of HP crossover, but worryingly the kind of stuff I'd expect to trawl through on FFnet (just try looking for X-Men Wolverine/Gambit slash on FFnet, you'll see what I mean...or Harry Potter/X-Men crossovers- there's one or two decent the rest is SCARILY NOT FUN) on Ao3.

I just opened one now that began(I'm paraphrasing a little just to retain semblance of anonymity) "This is also on FanFiction under the same name written by the same author (me). I apologise for the grammar, I'm dyslexic so please no nasty comments. Also if you don't agree with or like mpreg, slash and/or creature fic's just please go away and save us all the trouble."

Now, I try not to be too much of a wanker about people apologising for grammar and spelling like that, because I know that I can be an ass about issues like that although try not to be purposefully horrible if it's obvious an author is doing their best and, quite frankly, if the story is good enough then I can ignore minor slips here and there- one of my favourite HP gen stories which I'm planning to re-read again soon has some absolute clangers of spellings and sentences but when I'm reading the story is so good I don't care. What bothers me more is when a story is badly written- it's not just spelling but when it's so bad it isn't really telling a story properly, it becomes impossible to follow the plot. FFnet is rife with stuff like that.

Which is why, when I read this I found myself starting to wince (" fic's ") and thinking 'Oh no, FFnet has invaded'.

I immediately realised what an asshole thing this was to think; I know, I'm a wanker. That doesn't however deny the fact that was my first feeling. I haven't read the fic yet, I'm just about to. Maybe it will be terrific, after all several authors I like apologise in advance for their grammar EVERY SINGLE FIC and yet I've never ever found anything seriously terrible about it- certainly their fics are brilliant fun and if there is the odd error here and there it doesn't compromise the fictionality or the sense of the piece.

At the same time, I looked at the other summaries for this particular crossover page. Suddenly, too, there are an awful lot of, for example female!Harry (Potter) with names like Jaylian Sparklight-Potter and Emerald Potter finding herself helpless (grr!) and abandoned in X-Men/Sherlock/Avengers fandom only to end up shagging Cyclops/Wolverine/Sherlock/Any-Male-Avenger-But-Mostly-Loki

And I can't help but worry. Ao3's filtering system is good but I don't think it's reached the stage where it can save me from the kind of FFnet turn out that I call 'the dross'.

So yes. I'm a snob. And an ass. And a wanker.


But I don't want to have to go back to the bad old days of spending obsessive hours trawling through fic in which characters showed as much life as wooden planks just to find the shiny nice ones.

Update: The fic, if anyone cared to know, was on the whole not great. The prose was a bit excessive (lots of Harry as 'the youth' 'the beautiful child' 'ebony hair' 'pearly white teeth' 'dazzling smiles' etc and the author has also demonstrated a total lack of knowledge in terms of where-the-carribean-is-in-relation-to-England-America-Afghanistan-Pretty-Much-Anywhere and a similar lack of research in UK households - the Dursley's hire a maid servant after Harry disappears. Not 'a woman who does' or a 'cleaner' but a maid servant...awkward!turtles) Oh an also has just described someone's cock as his 'instrument nestled between his strongly toned thighs' and 'his large strong organ' in the same paragraph. *cries*
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Things I would like to do today:

Stay indoors.
Do a couple of hours of uni-reading
Read more of my Roald Dahl book.
Work on my essay.
Attempt to write a short story about a mysterious trail of bananas Snoopy found yesterday.
Clean the bathroom
Clean the kitchen and set up the new toaster
Chop more of the branches down to size.

Be able to write this list without being interrupted to check the euro lottery tickes and then again to ring my Nanny and ask 'if she has got the papers because Mum is going for petrol and can pick them up for her then'.


Things I will not get to do today:

All of the above.

Instead we are going 'out for a treat' to Boundary Mill which is a big outlet shop at the end of the Motorway.

For a treat.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Oh how I miss those heady days of being ergonomic. No, really. I am loving living in the new place in many and diverse ways but it seemed pointless to start struggling with my computer chair to bring it with me being that it is one step away from falling apart and periodically all the screw covers fall off and, because I don't sit properly on it, all the padding is on one side and that side is no where near my buttocks. BUT suddenly it's a killer to type or even spend excessive time scrolling with my mousie without all circulation in my hands being seriously compromised.

So that's a thing.

We'll work it out. I'll get a new chair. It's just there are so many other and potentially more vital immediate things and the wait is quite difficult, particularly writing wise.

On the bright side it is keeping me away from to much bad fic. I have tried to read some new stuff but apart from a few smashing new snippets from authors I like or updates to fics I'm already following I am distressingly finding the fandoms I am most lurking on on Ao3 seem to be filled with things that sadly do not suit my needs. I'm not saying they're all bad (although one huge epic which sounded interesting continues to taunt me- the story begins with Natasha having a public breakdown in Shield and needing Coulson to give her a hug- my cue to backspace because NATASHA SHOWS NO WEAKNESS DAMMIT especially not over a MISSION BRIEF.) it's just I don't care for the ships, and am not in the mood for non-powered AUs or PWP ( I know I know hark as Mistress Bona, but really I always am a sucker for LONG PLOT PLEASE).

I actually want to get a bit of writing done- I've moved the laptop onto the floor by the fire and am typing this hunched over it cross legged to give my hands a chance to receive bloodflow. Unfortunately, as my back is stupid and weak I don't think I'm going to be able to hold it out much longer to actually try and write anything.

Oh how I miss it, being Ergonomic.

Poetry

Oct. 7th, 2013 08:45 pm
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
I thought that, since August, I hadn't written any poetry. Or, at least, not any poetry fit to share with anyone ever, only dark half-dressed scribbles in the way that sometimes your brain disconnects and writing might help put the pieces less painfully together. But I've found at least one poem which, whilst unsmiling, is not unusable so that's something. It is poetry group later this week and the Mayor is coming, so I've tried to hammer something out tonight about home.

A friend of mine picked up a poetry book for me, recently. I tried to read it last night but it is absolutely terrible. I mean really, truly terrible. It clunks. I managed to read about six poems, with my pencil in hand making pained scribbles but I think I'm going to have to admit defeat. William McGonagall, eat your heart out, in the age of self-publishing there are some things far worse than your Tay Bridge out there for public consumption. Reading the book had a dual action for me, in the first I think perhaps I have learned something from it - learned to trust ear over all else, learned that really, truly, I can actually identify BAD poetry on occasion, and heard for perhaps the first time in a long time, the awkwardness of the forced rhythm or forced rhyme. I rhyme a lot, it comes to me that way and I like poems generally that rhyme (I like poems that don't rhyme too, also). They please me in their rhythm, balance and bounce and that always made me somewhat concerned when people far more learned than I would lecture about the dangers of the 'forced rhyme' the 'clunky turn of phrase'. I worried that perhaps I forced my rhymes and didn't realise it.

Now that I have read truly abominable forced rhyme, I feel somewhat comforted that I have not, at least not knowingly, pulled some of the trite tricks employed by that writer.

I hope I don't sound like a poetry snob. I try not to be, in fact I often feel far more of a poetry prole (The Waste Land continues to pass me by, unmoved, but Macavity is far more fun), but I promise you it isn't just me, I read a few verses aloud to share the pain and really, tin ear or no, the clunking was very, very present. Even more embarrasingly the author on his blub had commented that the poems 'were written down as they came to [him], barring a few edits for grammar'. The grammar was DREADFUL. There are wayward apostrophes, typos and whole sentences that simply do even less than scan, they make no sense, indeed, some had their sense altered in order to Make The Words Rhyme.

And that rant over I'm dashing now to watch The Dresden Files.
localfreak: (Chef!Wilson)
This morning I boasted my delight across the internet because I managed to acquire two marvellous bargins before 9am. The first was a book that I read at an Undergraduate and have now decided I need to read again. New, the book's cost is obscene, second hand the cheapest I could find were on Ebay and Amazon at around £12.75 and £11.75 including postage respectively. I was debating the merits of this, when I noticed there were being sold by the same seller and said seller is one whom I have bought from previously, and thus subscribed to their newsletter.

I hastened to their website and found the same used book for around £4.98 including postage.

WIN!

THEN I noticed the author had written another text, absolutely relevent to my interests in a I must posess this book and read it NOW kind of way. However, even second hand the copies were rare (one listing on Abebooks only and a couple on amazon) and eye-wateringly prices (£30+). I even looked at the library catalogue for the nearby city library to see if they might have a copy and began to seriously debate arranging my local library to order a copy for me.

Then I looked on ebay and found a student selling an old copy for 99p +£1.20 PP. So I have bid on it and have every hope of it being mine.

I was Very Pleased with my sucesses.

That was probably the fatal mistake, as this evening the television has decided to randomly break. So it's a good job I saved all that money this morning because IT'S ALL GOING TO HAVE TO GO AWAY NOW.

*sigh*
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
OH MY DEAR HEAVEN WHAT A WEEK.

This was the week of the student exams, which is always hectic and frantic and crazy and I've spent two days up at 5am and on my feet all day. I have also been house sitting which is always a bit...odd because one feels obliged to keep one's posessions in a specific limited space, surrounded by someone else's home. Additionally I am NOT WELL and prone to whinging in between coughing fits about how unwell I feel. Got up at 5.30 this morning and came home from work at 3.00 because I just couldn't hack it out for another couple of hours. Just came and fell into my own bed.

Anyway as I don't (and mostly shouldn't) talk about work on here too much instead I will admit that although I meant to go to bed really early last night I didn't because I was watching The Best Possible Taste: The Kenny Everett Story on BBC4 (it is on iplayer now, everyone, YOU MUST WATCH THIS IT IS GORGEOUS). Oh, it was just wonderful. It is a TV docu-drama (think Kenneth Williams, Fantabulosa with Michael Sheen) about the marvellous, madcap, super Kenny Everett who was just amazingly clever and quick and lovely. I don't know if it's just him or a combo of Kenny and the actor playing him but OH HE IS SO PRETTY with such lovely eyes!

And hey, if you don't know who he is YOU SHOULD and bonus: Freddie Mercury inside!

So yeah, I had to stay up to watch it, because KENNY EVERETT. <3

Tomorrow, we are going to the house to do work on it. I can't tell you how much, as much as I know the sooner we get a move on the sooner we can Move In, I just want to have a day of Staying In Bed Drinking Lots Of Fluids and Flu Medication.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
There is a film I like called David and Lisa - it is a made-for-TV film from 1998 which I believe is actually a remake of a film from the 60s of the same title, but I've never seen the original. I've only watched David and Lisa about twice, the first time on telly on one of those random summer days when I was a moody adolescent moping about the house and avoiding the sunshine, the second when I bought a bargain-bin DVD of it from TJHughes. But I like it. It is set in an institude for mentally ill teens and the main character, David, has an obsession with time that translates into disturbingly murderous nightmares and an absolute issue with clocks, with time continuing. He works himself into a froth in the film talking about how one day he will build The Biggest Best Clock In The World that will record time absolutely one-hundred-percent and forever and ever, every tiny nanosecond tracked by his eyes, translated into perpetual-motion clockwork.

It is sometimes a tad disturbing QUITE how much I could easily fall into a similar obsession with time. Nanny and I both have it, I can't EVER be late (in fact I'll be an hour early, or two, than be late, and the slightest thing that could put me Off Schedule will result in my nervous stomach being its usual helpful self ("oh, you're worried about something? I'm sure D&V will help this out!").

Today, however, unlike the poem from which I quoted for my subject line ( by Ralph Hodgson) I certainly don't want time to put up his caravan and stick around. I am so glad that today is ending. My mood has been vile, work has been clouded by a fog of my own bad mood and when I got home it was to find Mum has recieved a note advising her that her last interview was unsucessful and so she is an miserable mood to and I am made more hopeless by my absolute impotence- what the fuck can I say? This stupid country, this stupid economic climate, the stupid people for not picking her. I can make suggestions but it is a poor sop and I hate, hate it. And of course my own private rants all day fuzzling up my ears make things all the more dreadful, all the less clear.

Jesu, juva let something come along to lift off this fog. Let something good come.

The house, at least, progresses. I shall be going there tomorrow to be put to work which I can do provided I am given simple directions and left to things. I have many things to do.

Also have a poem on commision and still have not written it. Made doubly difficult because I know the recipient dislikes end-rhyme, which for entertainment purposes is my stock-in-trade. Hmm.
localfreak: (BAH!)
There really are some unutterable wankers in the world. The other day I put a message to someone on facebook.

Me: Hi, just wondered if you & [blah] wanted to come out for lunch after your hospital appointment?
XYZ: I won't have time as I have to go back to work
Me: Oh sorry, I thought you had the day off.


There's nothing wrong with that conversation is there? And yet somebody who works with XYZ saw that on their facebook and told them "I'm going to report you to the boss. Going out for lunch when you're meant to be having doctors' appointments."

Now I know that that person, whoever they may be (and I don't know them, have never met them etc) has no leg to stand on- XYZ hasn't and wasn't doing anything wrong: I had mistakenly thought they had booked the day off work that they were having the appointment, as they have a long commute.

But I am revolted beyond reasonable language that some vile, insignificant weasel should look at that conversation and do the "adult" equivalent of the infant school cry "OMMmmmm! I'm tellin' I'm tellin'.". It is sick. Absolutely sick. What business of it was theirs? Why would they ever go up to someone they work with, whether they get on with them or not, and actively seek to cause trouble or upset for them? What if the hospital appointment was going to be incredibly upsetting for them? Surely anyone deserves a fortifying cup of tea and a cake after a troubling appointment? They weren't even going to come to lunch anyway, so it's all academic but...

sometimes I think at least the wankers ON the internet are open about it rather than basically cyberstalking a work-colleague who must, at least once, have been a friend because XYZ and myself both have locked friends-only profiles.

I always thought that when people became 'grown-ups' there would be less bullies, posturers, power-grabbers, hair-pullers, less people who delighted in attempting to make trouble for others, less 'grasses', less 'stirrers'.

But it looks a lot like infants school from where I'm sitting.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Had a super productive morning in work, I've still got mountains to do but you know that lovely feeling when you tick things off and can visibly see yourself actually meeting the deadlines? It's coming back (thank God!). Had a much less productive afternoon following Team Brief, no one could really settle and stuff just kind of came up which threw me off-plan.

My readings for uni this week are hilarious- half of them are ANALYSING ADVERTISEMENT IMAGES. I'm hunting for my study on "Nature Valley Granola Crunch" bars to remind me of things. I still can't actually look at that product on the shelves in the supermarket without announcing their name in a horrendous faux-accent. That's what you get for analysing an ad campaign of something edible, I suppose. The reading today focussed a lot on cigarette ads in print- something which I only have passing aquaintance with, I can understand a coupe focussing on the phallic but OH MY WORD the amount of fellatio in those ads was bizarre. "Hi yes, let's advertise the cigarette next to a cucumber with dew on it, a lollipop, a woman's lips, smeared with lipstick a spoon" ?!??!?

I think the cucumber was definitely the silliest. O.o

I'm cacking around online this evening because I'm waiting for people to pay me on ebay, I've sold a pile of bits- well, actually, I've sold a pile of old cross-stitch kits and a Wolverine action figure in box. I PUT UP for sale a lot of comics, DVDs (still sealed!) etc but of course none of them have sold. I am seriously thinking they're going to have to go in the recycling, it breaks my heart but I've been trying to sell these guys for years now some of them, just doubles or issues for series' I don't collect, and I ask a pittance for them. One day in the future someone is going to be looking desperately for X-Factor Giant Size Annual Issues 1 and 2 from the eighties and THEY WILL BE SORRY they didn't bloody buy them off me when they had the chance (if anyone on here by the way DOES know someone who would like them LET ME KNOW. I want them to go to somewhere they will be appreciated, and if they'd pay me something for postage and stuff I wouldn't be bothered about profit). It's just so frustrating when people seem delighted to have little tiny sampler kits that I acquired over the years but for various reasons didn't use and yet awesome things like Election on DVD (I love that film!), or Wolverine comics you can't even give them away.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
A day off today for essay writing purposes. I am happy to announce that I have completed: A First Draft. For possibly one of the first times in my life I am under the wordcount (if I include the bibliography at the moment I'm still within the 10% marker, without the bibliography...well. I have a little more work to do. Ahahah) however I am immensley pleased to at least be this far along. I have another Study Day on Monday so my aim is that by next week I will have completed both the essay and the redraft of my presentation submission in plenty of time to quadruple-check and submit. I just have to be focussed for a little while longer *tries very hard*

Yesterday was a write-off in work anyway because we had team meeting and then I was doing an IT drop-in-and-let-me-teach-you session so I got very little of my own work done, which was frustrating. I also had some sort of melt down on the way home: I locked up with the others, tramped the long walk to my car, de-iced my car, half way through the commuter crawl to get home I realised I had the master key, which they would need today to lock up with, so I turned around drove back, bombed it into the building, put the key somewhere hidden and then realised that I didn't have what I call my 'double set' - a set of keys that will only open the front door and one office door- in order to get out, so I had to get the master again, go and borrow someone else's 'double set' from their desk and lock all the way up again and drive home all whilst...wait for it...DEVELOPING A MIGRAINE. Because that's what anybody can't do without for an evening. So I took the pills and lay down in the dark for the rest of the evening. Damned wasted time. I blame our team meeting which began with the beautiful sentence "Welcome to our monthly team meeting, we have these meetings once a month for the team." I AM NOT EVEN JOKING. I had to bite my pen and not look at anyone for ages. Actually I think that sentence encapsulates everything we dread about meeting days.

Anyway, migraines, yargh. Topped off by a horrible horrible nightmare last night involving people I love commiting suicide and me getting into a fight with a yob.



So today was okay! (Apart from the 'I woke up at five with a bad dream' bit). Mum went out and I have pretty much worked consistently today on the essay, with only one break for dinner until around three. At which point I cleaned the bathroom, because I promised myself I would.

THE DRAFT is printed off ready for my Red Pen of Doom all over it, and hopefully I can think of something to plough out an extra couple of hundred words about. But I'm having a pause for now and making posh coffee (posh as in it doesn't come in a jar that says 'Nescafe' in a foreign language, although it did still come from B&M...). What I really want to do with my break is write either a poem or a flash fiction piece just to get my brain going again but I'm running short on patience. And high on procrastination.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
I thought that going back to my old tiny, tiny and wee desk, wedged up against a somewhat impractical (read: annoying) reception hatch was going to be hard, but I've discovered something much more difficult: hotdesking. I have moved around so many times that my feeble attempts to maintain working order are flailing fast as my notes, books, pens, memory stick and paraphanalia get re-shuffled in a little pile travelling along with me. I'm hotdesking because we have an Apprentice in the office and it makes sense to put her on reception purely because it's out of the way and a lot of the enquiries that come through she can field before they hit anyone else and weed out the usuals (where is the toilet? where is room blahblah? what room am I meant to be in? who am I? where am I? Banana etc)

On the bright side today I worked with our new person and got her to do some data inputting and things on a spreadsheet that she will soon take over for herself (so fair's fair) and got some of my own reports and other pressing concerns dealt with. We have our team meeting tomorrow and I am rather dreading it not in the least because I have plenty of other more useful things to do, but also because there are several points on the action plan upon which it will be revealed that I have not achieved any of them. This is mostly not for lack of effort, although at least one major task- revamping a training session with DrB- I have let slip rather a lot, it is extremely hard to pin him down to discuss more than one item at a time, you see, and prior to Christmas I had a lot more pressing concerns than his annotations on a booklet I'd given him. But still, it's all going to come out tomorrow and it'll get nasty. Equally most of the other tasks against my name I either A. Have Not Had Time To Do or B. I have contacted the people in question and they have not got back to me. *sigh*.

Anyway on top of that I'm doing an IT-assistance clinic all afternoon as well, which means that I won't be in the office either, and I've study leave on Wednesday for the essay I really need to get down and focus HARD on so it's all very therearenotenoughhoursintheday and I've got how many days owing?

*awkward*
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
And on the twelfth day, he slept.

I think there is something wrong with me. Went out for my haircut this morning and then insisted that I needed to get home quickly to do some work. This was at first derailed with exciting information within the family that necessitated phone calls to relevant persons, and the arrival of The Uncanny X-Men #268 which flashes between X-Men days (running into Black Widow) and 1941 in which Captain America and Wolverine meet The Black Widow (as an ADORABLE CHILD) to rescue her after being kidnapped by The Hand. Yayayayayay.

I might put something on the avengers meme- I would so like a story in which Steve remembers a pretty little red-headed girl he helped rescue once upon a time.

BUT I DIGRESS.

I ate a little, toddled upstairs armed with books, papers and pages of notes for Further Research. And nodded off. Woke up twenty minutes later, moved around, picked up the notebooks, read about a page and nodded off again. The third time I dropped off I slept for an hour at which point I thought 'hang it' and picked up a poetry book and came downstairs for tea.

This is ridiculous! I go to bed reasonably on time, even if I am up before the sun and yet I can't stop flaming sleeping. I'm twenty-six going on sixty-two.

It could just be stress with work and such, and then the essay is also really not my thing with many of the books I'm using incredibly dull but if this doesn't stop soon I shall have to Take Steps.

Short of hyping up on over the RDA caffienated fizzy drinks I'm not sure what steps. But STEPS WILL BE TAKEN.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Just how much I need to get my brain into gear. Seriously. I am so run down right now that the sore throat when it appeared yesterday isn't even remotely a suprise. We had a thing in work and yes I did want to stay (if only because I don't trust getting kept in the loop about imminent piles of shit which will somehow end up on my head otherwise) but it actually meant that I got in to work at around 7.50am and left work at 7.55pm.

I cannot actually do this. Like, I can't cope. I got home and was like the Crankiest Toddler In the Country - tired to the point of being overtired and overemotional. Seriously, someone put a rude comment about something I'd made online and I was actually FURIOUSLY HURT instead of being like '...and you're a tit'. Ridiculousness!

Anyway that's why I've not been online much to chat. To be honest what I should be doing is concentrating on getting the last two weeks of course-work done and gathering research for my 3000 word essay which is due in January.

And also getting the Christmas cards out of the loft

And finishing putting up my new wardrobe

And sending the parcels that need to be sent before Christmas

And writing two poems before next Wednesday

What I'm actually doing is mostly dozing vaguely and occasionally re-reading very simple, very easy books because brain is like cabbage butties.
localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
Today I dropped my car in for a Winter Service Check and then Mum and I picked up [personal profile] still_lycoris and we went to Lady Heyes to while away a few hours present shopping and looking at the pretty things. Because of my stupidly booking my car in we couldn't have dinner there which was a shame as their food is scrummy and I do look forward to that part- especially as it's always freezing! But it was good fun. I got a present for a friend for Christmas and some very nice ale for me and I was very strong and resisted the books. Actually, there weren't many I was too tempted by- I am trying to improve my mindset that as I work in the library I should really read more from there if I'm tempted by unknowns anyway, but also the pruning has continued and I currently have a box to go so we have room to set up my new wardrobe which should arrive next week(!).

Lady Heyes is always fun because there's so much Random Stuff to look at, ranging from incredibly pretty or cool (like a Captain Scarlet Annual from 1968, a rocking chair, a set of silverware engraved as a wedding present for a couple in 1888) to the grotesque (old furs and a taxidermied Fox and Badger to hang on the wall of one's hunting lodge, teeth bared into snarls) to the downright UGLY


Behold! One of the BIGGEST and UGLIEST table lamps I have ever seen outside of Harrods.

Tomorrow I have to not do anything but studying after church I think. I worked so hard to do all my readings this week but I haven't got any good responses and the pressure is on because I think my virtual presentation is due soon as well, just to make things difficult- it's the staff night out this Friday and then I'm going to the theatre on Saturday so I WILL BE DEAD next weekend. Dead, I tell you!

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localfreak: avatar which I have used as mine since scarboard days 10 years ago (Default)
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