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This is where you stick random tidbits of information about yourself.
Age 23, living in sin in Twickenham with Cheesy
Likes
Movies
Books
Writing
Theatre
Hugs
Kittens
Chess
Scrabble (mostly beating Cheesy's butt)
Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Dislikes
Vegetables
Arguments
Cleaning
Trashy TV
Pretensions
Public Transport
Pets
Rabbits-Bambi, Fern, Sooty, Pippa-all deceased
Dog-Sammy-deceased :(
Fish-CatFlap-recently (and finally!) deceased
Cat-Tiggy-still scratching
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Technically Rachel
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Friday, October 31, 2003
Okay
On this day particularly - England sucks. Halloween is quite possibly my favourite holiday of the year. I was a morbid child fascinated more with vampires and ghosts than ponies and fairies (not that I didn't think they were rather cool in their own right), so I used to relish every Halloween when Momo would dress me up as a witch in black bin liners. University years provided many opportunities for Halloween parties, and it was then I started to notice that the more grown up people get the less they want to play dress-up. What's that about! What, silly outfits are only for the bedroom these days???
Luckily I lived with like-minded housemates, and every Halloween we'd throw a big bash and coming up with the best outfits possible. 1st one I was a vampire, so no real innovation there. BUT, 2nd year I went as a human sacrifice, which involved a corset, lots of bloodied white cloth, rope and handcuffs (all with the purpose, you understand, of seducing the then unavailable Babba - since I spent the entire night handcuffed to him, I think you could say that worked).
3rd one i went as a spider type thing - lots of black netting, and plaited hair. And the old knee high FM boots. This was useful for re-seducing aforementioned Babba... Okay, maybe silly outfits are just for the bedroom.
But my point is - I love dressing up for Halloween! But I know very few people who do. People go out on Halloween, and they wear normal sodding clothes. It's just rubbish, and one of these days I'm going to drag my arse over to the US on Halloween, cause dammit they look like they have some fun with it.
Boring old English twots - no appreciation for the weird things in life.
2:24 pm
Tuesday, October 28, 2003
It's always the little things.
I work with... let's say two 'people' whom I shall name Mr Potato & Turkey (it all makes sense to me!).
They are both generally older than me - she's late 20s and Mr Potato is early 30s - so yes, I know that the conversation isn't going to be exactly thrilling, so I can cope with the utter daily conversational BOREDOM!
However... and here's the little thing. At the moment, sneezing is rather commonplace - what with the cold dark night drawing in. WHENEVER Mr Potato and Turkey sneeze, they both say "Bless you" to eachother, and I also say "Bless you", being brought up with manners. BUT... whenever I sneeze... not a murmur from either of them. I do not get a "Bless you" - ever! Apparently, my sneezes can rot in hell.
I wait now, every time after I sneeze - and each time they say nothing. Zippo. I just wanna throw my hole-punch at them and say "Say Bless you, you Bastards!!!!!"
Humph.
Also just realised i've been spelling stationery (e.g. pens) stationary - which is wrong. And I hate intentional spelling mistakes. Dammit.
5:25 pm
Friday, October 24, 2003
International Advise
A PS Note:
For you International Bloggers: A quick guide to my linked bloggers:
Varsity Life of Spice: Unfortunately no more, due to nasty bosses.
Cheesemongers Anonymous: Babol's site, and the place to go if you want to read dark, funny and often twisted short stories. Or just very strange sentences.
BronTOne: Crazy Bron's site - my theatre chum who's in a slump at the moment, so go put funny things on her blog
Cheeky Minx: Mr Benj who hasn't posted, in like - a sodding year! Shame on him.
Goulden Moments: Our international traveller who is putting down a lot of fantastic punkish details about his world travels. He has a very nice arse.
Sianodel: Blogger newbie - in fact not a blogger at all, but a modblogger! Huh? Check him out for reviews of World Cup Rugby - England rule - we're gonna win this one goddamit!
Gregorian - He's Irish and he talks A LOT - too highly educated for my good, thank you. Smart PHD people - tsk. Still you want detailed blogs, reviews, discussions, this is the place to go.
Kitchen Table: My old boss at the Royal Exchange Theatre, who is totally the completest non-boss you could ever have. Take a look cause he's very funny and he's from Bolton, which is great.
12:10 pm
Blog The World!
It seems my blog world is expanding! To another country indeed.
First up is a lovely lady known to bloggers as Random Creature - this lady was connected via dear old Mr Goulden, who I think is gaining many blog fans in his worldly travels (it's a conspiracy - he's in Bolton!!!). She's very funny and thinks about Mr Goulden's arse, which lets face it girls-don't we all? Plus a fan of sick pumpkin art - which i highly congratulate her for introducing me too. I intend to have fun with the little children this Halloween.
Next up is Blah!Blah!Blah! - who's template I nicked. Apologies once more, but I'm keeping it! Ha ha! I wonder who spawned the original template that Holly (ex, of course), Stuart, and many many others use? She's also seems to be a Calvin & Hobbes fan, which automatically gives her the stamp of approval. Plus she thinks I'm funny - me like her very much.
So check them out fellow UK bloggers, and exand your cultural blog experience. Wooooo!
Grown Up Stuff
Mine and Babol's parents are finally meeting this weekend. Eek. Yup, after nearly three years of a relationship which can best be expressed by the number of sickeningly gross pet names we have for eachother, our parentals are finally meeting eachother. For like, a whole day. Many utterings of "No, we're not engaged/pregnant/eloped" were required, but I'm hoping for a good weekend. Still can't believe they've never all met, but his parents are in Somerset, and mine in Lancashire, so it's no great surprise (yes, a north/south union - very PC). They should get on - both our Dad's tell bad jokes (Popo's a Tommy Cooper nut - I bought him a fez one Xmas), and both our Mums are into spiritually stuff (Momo's a Reiki nut - she's very good, but it's all a but spooky wooky for me).
Fat Ass is coming as well - she should keep the conversation going (bless her, she rarely shuts up) but I'm praying we don't regress to our 12 yr old state of sniping and pulling hair - so far I think Babol's mum thinks I'm a nice well mannered mature young lady, and I'd hate to shatter that illusion by kicking my sister in the shins. She should be in a good mood though - she's off to Australia in a couple of months to shnook up with her Billy Zane. Damn, need to buy her Xmas present.
Xmas!! Aaaargh!! Not yet!!!
11:32 am
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
I just broke another hair clip-and for once I didn't sit/stand/fiddle with it. Just put it in my hair, and snap! Suddenly it's in two pieces. Mind you, this one's lasted 6 months at least, which has to be some kind of record. Still-shoddy piece of crap.
2:17 pm
Another Blog Hits The Dust
Sorry, Nick - I nick your Nick-like blog style for today.
Ms Spice's blog has indeed bitten the dust. Full explanation as to why is still pending, but I believe there are work-related legal issues involved. Still, I await a justifiable reason for the destruction of an entire blog-system - all those letters, words, sentences, quotes, metaphors and spelling mistakes. Why? Yes, there were clearly some evil words that needed to be eradicated (words like research, studying and Cato), but what about the poor innocents? The ones that were merely informative, cheerful and downright blog inspiring? Tis a sad sad day indeed when innocent web-ink is spilled for the sake of destroying the nasties. Sigh.
9:34 am
Friday, October 17, 2003
In my office we have things called Purchase Orders (POs) and things called Return Notes (RN) - we keep a list of how these items are allocated (yes, very dull - but bear with me).
So, today I made myself a file to keep all this information, which had a label reading:
PO/RN
Allocation
Let's just say that file was taken down from the shelf pretty damn quickly. I had to change it - I'm sad. It should still be there, bringing mirth to all who pass it by.
5:28 pm
A New Addition to The List
Of, oh, my many many illnesses. To go on top of the ever-lasting Crohn's disease, and the more recently acquired dose of shingles, the latest in a long line of illnesses has been a lovely kidney infection.
This has had numerous drawbacks - the main ones being peeing acid and an achy back. Did i mention the flu like symptoms? All these things have meant a certain Babol has had to go without of late - it makes for interesting conversation around the flat.
Bigger drawback is that I probably won't now be going to Manchester this weekend - really wanted to go and see Twelfth Night at the Royal Exchange - it's my favourite theatre and play (yeah, so I totally want to be Viola) combined. This is the last weekend I can see it, but I'm still feeling grotty and travelling up to Manchester is hardly what i would call relaxing and health improving behaviour. So we'll have to see. if I feel fine on Saturday I may well still go, but I may have to just curl up and stay in bed instead - my weekend rocks!
Anyway, job continues well - getting busier, and i went 'on set' yesterday and watched Bridget Jones being put into a taxi by her friends, 12 times! My rule is that watching filming is interesting for 15 minute intervals. But because they take the same exact shot over and over and over... well, you can imagine, not as interesting. But I did get driven around by this great guy called Freddie, who totally converted me to the opinion that Mel Gibson is a good guy - not that I particularly disliked him before. Freddie was Mel Gibson's driver i think during Braveheart - during this he got struck down with cancer, and Mel flew him to America and paid for all his medical bills. Freddie is now at full health and definitely kicking. Just thought it was a nice thing - despite the guy's rather creepy obsession with the catholic latin vibes.
2:33 pm
Monday, October 06, 2003
Memorial
'Tis indeed the end of an era. September 1997, I attended the cruddy little fair that turns up in Chorley every now and again. Having been out having a few drinkies here and there (at the illegal age of 17 - don't gasp, I was lucky if I could move for 14 year olds in Chorley pubs), I became excited at the idea of playing a fair ground game. Imagine my excitement when I won a fish (surely a thrill for anyone with enough units in their blood). In my mind I figured it would die within a week anyway - don't they always. This was reinforced by the fact that when I balanced him on a bar some hours later he fell right over, most of his water going everywhere. Perhaps this one little incident made him a survivor. Because a month went by, and he didn't die. A year went by - didn't die. By this point I was heading out to a life of University, which unfortunately leaves little room for a wet pet. My poor Momo was left looking after yet another pet, not having the heart to just claim it died and flush him down the toilet like most would. After another year, surviving my Momo's attention I realised he planned on sticking around so I figured I should probably name him. Henceforth, he became Catflap. Ironically, the cat (Tiggy) paid not the slightest attention to him the whole time he was there. Yes, the past tense here indicates that but days ago, after seven years and 1 month of swimming around in circles in the same goldfish bowl, Catflap has finally signed up for that big ocean in the sky. Seven years! Who knew a grubby little fairground fish could last so long? After such a good innings, it seemed wrong that he be flushed through our sewerage system, and Popo buried him near Sammy at that bottom of the garden (Sammy the dog, by the way).
Poor thing must have been bored stupid in our kitchen. Either that or it was television to him.
MrBenj - you can have your goldfish bowl back now.
2:00 pm
Friday, October 03, 2003
One solid piece of advice: Always listen to your Parentals. Whilst helping us at our flat last weekend, Momo suggested that we should leave all plugs in their holes in the bathroom/kitchen, as this was almost certainly a 'spider house' (this is a phrase I tried to immediately forget, as it would no doubt lead to sleepless nights, and many paranoid wasted minutes checking under toilet bowls and sinks). I nodded and muttered in agreement, and in an attempt to try to be normal about the 'spider thing' I promptly became nonchalant about it.
Mistake. This morning, upon entering the bathroom in preparation for a shower, I noticed the plug was not it. I shrugged, thinking: "I hope no spiders crawled out", turned and saw a spider. Like a Shelob's baby spider or something. Huge. Mamma huge. For once, instead of freezing both my legs and vocal chords to the spot, I ran like crazy (I never like to turn my back on a spider, but needs must), and got the Babba to arm himself with spider-spray and kill it. Yes, okay - I am evil. We are both evil when it comes to spiders. But honestly, I cannot help it!
I don't know where this fear comes from. I'm not generally scared on insects - I can pick most things up, Daddy-Long-Legs included. But spiders....eurururgh. Just can't deal. Even the small ones, I have to get rid of - and I even find it hard to get close enough to them to kill. Sorry spider lovers (FREEEEEEEAKS!) - they must die.
Oh, and what's the bloody deal with house spiders living in drainpipes? Are they completely stupid? In my experience, most spiders do not react well to water (a tried and tested method of disposal). What the hell are they doing in there - are they daredevil spiders? Risking life and limb for a quicker and speedier route around the building. Spiders: find a nice warm floorboard to sit under where we can bloody carpet you in!
Ways to kill spiders:
Drowning - Rather good as this also disables them from running at you/under things where you can't get them, and sit there waiting for an opportunity to pounce on you again.
Spider-spray - officially this is fly spray as apparently killing spiders is bad for the food chain or something - what bloody use they are for catching flies down a drainpipe I don't sodding know. This is good if they're trapped in a sink/bath as they can't run away. Although if they do get away, you can always comfort yourself with the idea that they will die in whatever hole they've crawled in.
It does however take time to kill them, and personally I get a bit freaked out and feel incredibly guilty when they start spasming all over the place. I'm not a complete monster.
Books - the old time favourite. However, usually requires getting a bit too close for comfort. Plus also has potential to ruin the book, which will require cleaning afterwards - something I get way too squeemish about.
Heavy objects - as above, usually as good as books as long as they have a flat part. Ms Spice however will agree that iceburg lettuces are not at all suitable for the task.
Pets - by far the most efficient way, but not always reliable. My dog Sammy was a fantastic spider-eater, but if there's any other food in the house, he would ignore them. Plus there's always the risk they might bring it to you. Cats are fine as long as they're not in a playful mood.
Babba - Tested, approved and extremely reliable. My hero.
Any other suggestions for killing spiders would be most welcome.
12:30 pm
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