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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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Monday, February 28, 2005
For the first time ever, it seems I am letting my birthday pass without much of a to-do. You see, normally there are banners and parades forewarning of its coming. Not this year though. Could be to do with it being the landmark 25 I suppose. Or maybe just cause I've been so ill the last week the idea of celebrating anything has me running for my duvet. Yes, the winter bug got me. With the mother of all stomach-flu. Which when you have Crohn's Disease is no barrel of laughs. Flare-up city. So now I'm on antibiotics and things generally seem to be clearing up. This was no consolation on our end-of-work do on Friday - fully paid up food and booze and I'm on water and soup.
And an early night. Yay. Managed to make it home on Saturday for Bron's production of "Time Of My Life" in Chorley - which was very good and very sweet. Good job all round. It's a really nice play - a shame it doesn't get done more often. Then again it's gotta be tough to choose amongst Alan Ayckbourn's a-million-and-one plays.
In the process of being ill I forgot to renew my car tax - I don't do things wrong on purpose, so when these things happen I sweat like the local bobby is about to come round and cart me off for being a day late with my payment.
And London still smells. The temptation to move back up north grows daily.
So, in the spirit of my unenthusiasm, any ideas for my birthday? Cause I got nothin.
7:12 pm
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Weird week. Spent most of it crawling out of a mini-depression which I can only assume has been brought on my this car-crash-bitch-two-faced-prune-faced-she-twat. People being crappy has always dragged me down. Plus, my parents sold my piano. (Yes you Droylsden few - weep for its loss). And I turn 25 next month. Age doesn't bother me so much except for the fact that this only leaves me one year left as "Young Writer" status with a majority of theatres - best pull that finger out and get writing then I suppose.
Also this week seems to have seen me redevelop my animal-obsession (in a I-Want-One-I-Want-One! kind of way). From the cute kitten from upstairs (who I was certain was lost and needed adoption), to the cuddly puppy in the Hippie Shop in Ealing, to even Sparkle-Socks, the badger cat from our flats, whose name tag reads "Medical Condition-Do Not Feed". I want a cuddly creature to fawn over. And Cheesy is stupid and allergic - humph. *Sulk*
And it's Cheesy's birthday this week and I still don't know what to get him!
4:48 pm
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
What is fucking WRONG with people?!
As you may recall, a few weeks back I was in a car bump when some stupid idiot women pulled out of a side-road without looking. She was all apologetic and regretful and stuff, claiming she didn't see me. Two faced cow, is all I can say right now. Cause she has fabricated an entirely new version of events that, surprise surprise, suddenly put me at fault for the accident. "Undertaking" her apparently. And since there are zero witnesses I don't know how this will pan out. The damage to the cars certainly favours my version of events, but having never done this before I really don't know what will happy.
It just makes me so angry that people are so able to lie like that - no consideration or sense of responsibility for their actions. How can someone seem just sweet and normal, and turn out to be so devious and dishonest. I seriously despair at the human race sometimes.
7:41 pm
Sunday, February 06, 2005
And so home-blogging returns - with a so far very nice service from Tiscali. Yee-haw and all that stuff.
Codes & Stuff
So... finally pulled my finger out and read the Da Vinci Code. I certainly got through it very quickly (in that, won't put it down, kinda way). To be honest, most of the actual book's plot annoyed me, but the conspiracy theory surrounding Da Vince and the Priory of Scion was fascinating (a love a good old "fuck with history" adventure). One thing I was most pleased about was seeing the pentacle vindicated.
I've long been a fan of this symbol, which I have always known to mean good things. I have a ring of it that's never off my finger, and have frequently had people point out that I must be some kind of devil-worshipper. Well, ah ha, no! Tis a divine symbol demonised by the church. Heh. I've long been barking on how religion has created society to oppress and fear women, creating strong associations with them and the devil (come on down, Ms Eve - the one fictional character to seriously screw the female chances in the world). It's all very interesting, and certainly covers a lot of research. So if your interested in all that - go read it and learn some stuff, but don't expect to be too overtaken by the overall plot twists and characters.
One Day I Won't Humiliate Myself In Front Of Movie Stars
One day. So, we had our wrap party for the latest film this week. Going solo for this one so had no one specifically keeping an eye on me. I came so close to actually being cool for once. I bumped into one of the actresses (of As If and Hex fame - have decided to avoid name usage these days) on the tube on the way, and managed to chat away like a normal person all the way there, through the entrance and past the cloak room without saying anything gigantically stupid. Success. (She's very lovely by the way - which no doubt makes things easier).
One alcoholic drink later - ONE - and I decide to pay a visit to the ladies room. Which seems to be up three flights of stairs. And I realise that only a few steps behind me is a rather yummy black actor (of Dirty Pretty Things yumminess). I have two concerns - create some distance (so as to avoid any awkward "I see you but I don't know you should I talk to you or ignore you" moments); and make sure my ass looks good as its sauntering away (it's important that one's ass looks good in WHATEVER circumstances). So I ascend the stairs at a jaunty little pace and wiggle - perfect. If I wasn't wearing 5 inch heels. And if there wasn't the LAST step on the stairs that was determined to make me take a tumble. Which I did. Flat on my ass. He's pissing himself, I'm laughing it off and then flustering into the ladies room (so close, yet so far) and dying of embarassment. Tsk. I don't think it tops my "Accounts Boffin" moment. Although I think I made it worse later - bumped into him later at the bar when he was with another work colleague I know quite well. After announcing that he wasn't used to "seeing me vertical" (I swear, I didn't know what I was saying!), I scuttled away and vowed never to speak again.
And so continue the Adventures of Rachel - the girl who should live in a hole.
9:09 am
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