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|Thursday, August 13th, 2009|
|like a plastic baby in a faberge egg
HELLO LJ. Long time no see.
I have meant to update upon you for NIGH ON A THOUSAND YEARS. Actually it very nearly IS a year, isn't it? There is a stage of LJ-notness where it feels rude to start talking because of the extreme... notness, and that is the stage I inhabit. Also, I can't help being aware that I am basically a totally different LJ-person to who I was two or three years ago, and why would you lot want to talk to a stranger? But probably neither of those points are worth worrying about overmuch. I notice that most neurosis things tend not to be, which is depressing because I have spent the lion's share of my energy on them for most of my life. Actually I notice that quite a lot of people are changing in the way they use LJ. Life in four dimensions is weird. I still haven't entirely got used to it.
Anyway! This is what has been happening with me:
1) I finished medschool. I CANNOT BELIEVE I DID BUT I DID. I could write pages and pages about this but they would all boil down to "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??!?!?!?!?!!!!!" and "I CAN'T BELIEVE I GOT THROUGH THAT" and "YES FUCKING YES FUCKING YES".
2) Then I, uh, went to Peru. Yes, I know. Does anyone know much about carbon offset schemes? I went to one of the Gold Standard certified places and calculated the carbon footprint of the flight and quailed. I WON'T DO THAT AGAIN. The flight, I mean, not the emissions calculation. I know buying carbon offset credits is more than a wee bit morally unattractive (Pay for the environmental cost of my holiday, third world people! Pay with your solar panels! I can still continue to do what I want because I can BUY peace of mind! Ahahaha! Ahahahahaha!) but, uh, it will have to suffice for now. My life is carbonappalling, I know it. It is a thing to work on.
3) Then I packed my boxes and left Birmingham FOR EVER (residentially speaking at least. pleaseIhopefingerscrossed), then I bounced between Birmingham and Scotland for a month, then two and a half weeks ago I moved to London.
4) I started work last week.
5) FUCK FUCK FUCKING HELL FUCK FUCK FUCK. FUCK. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. FUCK. FFFFFFUCK.
6) I love Steptoe and Son.
That I think, at present, is all. I am sorry I cannot make words. I have been so busy that it has scraped all the excess energy off me like a pumice stone. Also I am loathe to become one of those people who tells entertaining stories about pancreatitis. Once I have stopped being in rebellion against my new identity I will presumably be able to speak. And once I feel like I know how to do my job. At least the paperwork side of it. That bit is the most challenging really. At least for the other stuff you can always ask someone.
London is the most wonderful place in the world. It is weird not knowing anyone or anything. I feel wiped out by newness. I hope I settle. I really love London. And Steptoe and Son. Did I mention?
Man oh man.
I hope you beauties are all VERY WELL. I send love.
|Tuesday, November 11th, 2008|
Remembrance Day is making me want to be sick. I just thought I'd mention that as a counterpoint to all the people behaving like it doesn't make them want to screech and swear and smear poo on public monuments. I cannot believe Remembrance Day. Cannot believe it. I cannot believe it has somehow been implemented that the one day of mass-consciousness raising about war we have a year is mostly focused on a war that happened ninety years ago, and pretty much all
of it focuses on war in a way COMPLETELY DEVOID OF POLITICAL CONTEXT. I know it's really obvious but the more I think about it the more I just CANNOT BELIEVE IT. It is like someone strolling in and burgling your house right in front of you. I don't mean that I think that there's anything wrong with people observing it or anything, it's mostly the way the telly and papers and stuff carry on, and I do get what it's about, I do. But I still can't BELIEVE that members of the current government can wear a poppy without being spat at on the street. I can't BELIEVE that they've made a whole new definition of the word remembrance that is something like "the opposite of learning from history". I cannot believe how often things work out to the advantage of politicians. I hate it. I just wanted to say.
|Thursday, June 26th, 2008|
|DEAR BABY, WELCOME TO DUMPSVILLE, POPULATION: YOU
Back to school on Monday. Oh, how I don't want to, HOW I DON'T WANT TO. Last week I was all YEAH, LET'S GET THIS BITCH ON THE MAT, LET'S GO, but now THE BITCH IS NEARLY ON THE MAT and I DO NOT WANT IT TO BE THERE. NO, I WOULD RATHER THE BITCH BE ON SOME OTHER MAT FAR FROM ME. Oh god. At the refresher course a few weeks ago I discovered that, among others, I had forgotten the words for "pneumothorax" and "blood culture". It is going to be a MASSACRE.
Heigh ho. Anyway, Ethiopia, one more post and I'm done, just because, the monastery murals, I CANNOT BEAR not sharing the monastery mural pictures with EVERYONE I KNOW. They have been the one thing I have consistently shown to EVERYONE, regardless of HOW VERY MUCH THEY DON'T WANT ME TO. They're not great quality (in fact, the more sensitive might describe them as AGONISINGLY BLURRY OW OW OH GOD MY EYES MY POOR EYES THEY CANNOT FOCUS) because it was dark and I don't have steady enough hands for long exposure, but what they lack in non-blurriness they make up for in HA HA OMG WHAT SO AWESOME. It may be that I am over-selling these a bit here but I don't care.
A bit of background: the Ethiopian Orthodox Bible has more books than the standard international one, because Ethiopian Christianity was cut off from the mainstream before the Council of, er, Nicea I think, or it might not have been Nicea but one of the ones around that period, where they decided which books would be part of the True Proper Bible and which books would be left out of it (left out of it: stuff written in Greek; stuff written by the Gnostics positing that since the god of the Old Testament was clearly a TOTAL BASTARD, perhaps he HAD created the world, which would explain, oh, WHY IT SUCKED SO MUCH; and stuff with dragons). Hence the Ethiopian Bible has lots more dragons, and marginally more batshittery, than our standard one.
Point the second: the islands of Lake Tana have lots of 14th century monasteries on. These monasteries are full of things like the mummified bodies of past emperors (which we weren't allowed to see, because we're GIRLS, MUCKY GIRLS), ancient relics, and loads of art. We got shown lots of ancient books, and special outfits for monks and nuns and hermits (who knew that there were special outfits for hermits? You would not have thought that it would be a fashion-conscious profession.) and lots and lots of HUGE WEAPONRY, for when there was strife or unrest or invasions, at which point all the monks and nuns and hermits would leave their lives of saintly contemplation and go forth to OPEN A CAN OF WHUP-ASS on the invaders.
And the murals. The ones I got to take pictures of were, I think, mostly about six or seven hundred years old. That's what the guide told me, anyway, but he could have been wrong. I think they're definitely from medieval Ethiopia, anyway, the odd suspiciously Italian-looking figure aside.( Collapse )
AND THAT CONCLUDES MY MONASTERY PICTURES. Current Mood: get off the mat, bitch!
|Friday, June 20th, 2008|
|are you still jumping out of windows in expensive clothes?
Helloooo. It's fast receding into the mists of time, but I feel a bit guilty that I didn't manage to say anything very cheerful about Ethiopia. It's rather a bugbear of pretty much everyone who ever goes to Ethiopia
that all people tend to know about is the 1987 famine and TV coverage and Bob Fucking Geldof, and they get a bit shrill about how IT'S NOT JUST A LAND OF STARVING PEOPLE! REALLY, IT'S NOT! IT'S GREAT! THERE IS [insert awesome thing here]! AND CRAZY UNIQUE ANCIENT CULTURE OF AMAZINGNESS! AND THERE IS FOOD AND IT IS AWESOME AND MOST PEOPLE AREN'T STARVING, REALLY! YOU SHOULD GO THERE AND SPEND YOUR TURISTA DOLLARS! It's perfectly true. So, here, holiday snaps!
NOTA BENE BABY: I took 1200 pictures, and have been finding it very veeeery difficult to prune them down, there are approximately FIVE THOUSAND here and that is still leaving out ALMOST EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED. I also keep wanting to explain things but my words make everything seem flat, FLAT AND DEAD. Ethiopian history and culture and everything about it is far too interesting and spooky and I can't possibly do it justice. DID YOU KNOW it's been an independent country for about 2000 years? It's the ONLY self-formed sub-Saharan African state and the ONLY indigenous literate sub-Saharan civilisation and the only African country apart from Liberia that was never colonised? DID YOU KNOW that Rastafarianism is based on worshipping Haile Selassie??? (Ras is a title, it roughly means "prince", his given name before his ascension to the throne was Tefari: Ras Tefari) Apparently he didn't like them much though, being the good Orthodox Christian boy he was he thought they were BASICALLY CREEPY. Ethiopia is so different from other places it's a bit like a joke. It seems much much further away than the Horn of Africa. ( Collapse )
|Thursday, April 17th, 2008|
|the tao of what's really going on
Disclaimer: I wrote this and then felt like a bit of a knob. But I'm posting it anyway. Ho hum.
So! Hello! I hope you are all well. I went to Ethiopia for ten weeks!1
It was very interesting. Now I am back and having slight culture shock. I was not expecting that. F was all "oh my god, I don't understand England, I'm scared of going back" and I said "mmmm" and internally rolled my eyes because for god's sake, it's not like we have been EXILED TO THE ANTARCTIC FOR MANY YEARS, but yet here we are. Anyway. Yes. Ethiopia! It is very poor and there is not much there. Oh, I don't know how to talk about this. Perhaps some illustrative anecdotes. 1. I should clarify what I was doing: I've spent this last academic year intercalating in International Health. Second term you get to do a research project abroad. I intercalated almost entirely for the opportunity to travel, and to get away from medicine for a year before I cracked up, and my research project was conceived at the last minute and generally shoddily executed - I just want to clarify this in case anyone is tempted to give me karma points. Anyway, the research involved interviewing the urban poor, hence why I got to go to people's houses and talk to them. When I wasn't doing that I was having an extremely nice time laughing and eating cake.( Collapse )
I was cross that I couldn't show pictures because of confidentiality, then I remembered that I have pictures that aren't of the specific people I've mentioned here, so it should be alright to show them.( Collapse )( Collapse )
|Saturday, July 21st, 2007|
|in which I witter
Hello darlings. Haven't read anyone else's reactions yet. Normally I tend to tidy and edit my reaction posts for clarity, but I have no time and if I don't post now I won't bother, so THIS IS LARGELY RAMBLY, REPETITIVE, INCOHERENT AND REPETITIVE.1 ( Collapse )
Annnd now I must go and do my shift at the bar, and when I come back I will read everyone else's reactions because FANDOM IS LIKE RAINBOWS AND UNICORNS. Thank you.
|Saturday, June 9th, 2007|
|I reached the top and had to stop and that's what's-a botherin' me
Remember I mentioned monkeys? Well I am NOT DONE WITH THEM YET. I put all my monkeys in a SEPARATE POST omg so they may be skipped over WITH GREATER EASE. This is that post. THIS IS MY MONKEY POST.
The thing is, the monkeys like to HANG AROUND in India. My favourite monkey is probably still my first monkey, which I saw sitting on top of a stall in a shabby little market somewhere in Connaught Place. It was sat so hunched and sullen and shabby and not at all aware and interested that it was a MONKEY sitting ON TOP OF SOMEONE'S STALL in a PLACE. Omg. My second favourite monkey is the one we saw wandering along the road at 6a.m. on our bus trip up to Manali. It was trotting along in a grumpy busy way, like "Another day at the grindstone! Up at the crack of dawn, off to do my many tasks, oh, what a hard life, this burden of constant toil is crushing me!" It seems unlikely that the monkey really laboured under a burden of constant toil, but what do I know? My third favourite monkey was the one that I thought at first was a dog. Etc.
I didn't get pictures of most of these monkeys, however. Most of my pictures of monkeys came from THE MONKEY PALACE. This is a complex of abandoned Hindu temples in the DESERTY HILLS outside Jaipur. It is like something out of the Jungle Book but MUCH AWESOMER. And the monkeys live there and splash in the reservoirs and eat all the bananas and nuts that people bring for them and do nasty things to each other with their LITTLE WIZENED FACES. The thing about monkeys is they really are like horrible little people. And they sort of move and act in a way that's enough of an echo of humans that it's disconcerting. And they sit in a horrible hunched-over way that makes me laugh and laugh, OH THEY ARE TERRIBLE, I LOVE THEM.
My pictures of monkeys are not National Geographic-esque magic. They don't quite rise to the semi-focused heights of some of my other efforts. But they are distinctly monkeyoid. And here's the betterer thing, I also have VIDEO! I finally found the benefit of my camera's video function with the monkeys. Because monkeys RUN AROUND and they have NASTY LITTLE FACES. David Attenborough it ain't. But it is REAL TIME PROOF OF THE MOVING NATURE OF THE MONKEYS. (You will have to excuse the continual background burbling in my extremely slappable voice. It turns out that I never stop talking, ever
. This is another thing I have learned about myself. All my video clips have this continual wittering in the background, regardless of whether I was actually addressing anyone or actually had anything to say. I now understand why Noble Travelling Companion (a.k.a. HM#1
) often wore a somewhat strained mien. I SUCK, yes.)( Collapse ) Current Mood: ANTHROPOID
|Thursday, June 7th, 2007|
|how to tell if you're under mind control: #6, your eyeballs are all swirly
Hello squigglies! I am home. Actually I've been home for about three weeks, I came back early for funereal purposes and have since been spending the intervening time wandering around like an apathetic food-poisoned zombie. But no more. Henceforth I intend to wander about like an apathetic food-poisoned zombie... WITH TALKATIVE TENDENCIES!
You might think that my time abroad would perhaps have made me a more interesting person. Perhaps a person with amusing anecdotes, and a different, broader perspective on life. Maybe even a person with a wordly air, and a DEEP NEW SPIRITUAL WISDOM.1
HOWEVER, this is not so. But let us focus on the key thing here: in India, THERE WERE MONKEYS.
Yes. Contain your awe for a moment: MONKEYS. Okay, stop containing your awe, you can run around in circles screaming "MONKEYS??? Were there really, Rebecca? MONKEYS? Are you sure? MONKEYS????
" YES, MY FRIENDS, MONKEYS. MONKEYS WERE THERE! MONKEYS WERE THERE AND I FED THEM PEANUTS WITH THESE VERY HANDS! More on this later. MONKEYS! Yes indeedy. MONKEYS! ! !!!!!! !! !!!!!!!!!!!1
Now - HOLIDAY PICTURES! There is no reason in the world why you should want to see my holiday pictures. I'm just a little bit excited at actually having
some for a change. I've been a pretty slow initiate to the art of photography. For years I tended only ever to take them when I had nothing else to do, meaning that I would repeatedly come back from jaunts to strange and fabulous places with rolls of film of car parks, train stations and the view from my hotel window in the rain. But this time, no! I got a digital camera and a big memory card and I actually took some actual pictures! Lots of them! In fact, I have run up against a whole new, different problem now: I take too many pictures, and they're all of the same thing
, and I cannot bring myself to delete them because omg, pictures! To add insult to injury most of these pictures are of masonry. I took over a hundred pictures of the Qutb Minar in a single morning, and ALL THOSE PICTURES WERE OF MASONRY. And one sleeping dog. It turns out I fucking LOVE masonry. The things you learn about yourself, eh. Anyway. I don't feel too guilty about posting holiday snaps on LJ, since you can always just not click on the cut tag. Unlike in person, where you have to sit through every single blurry snap of brickwork going "mmm" in a tone of "gadzooks! What fresh new delight is this that assualts my jaded palate??"2
I've only got the last week's worth of photos, because the rest are stored on NTC's mp3 player and she's in Italy. I found it quite hard to winnow them down. But I tried.1. That one's definitely out. I have concluded, after a certain amount of horrified observation of the many, many hippies out there, that I don't have a spirit. And just as well too.
2. Actually, so far only Nicola has bothered to do this. Everyone else rapidly lapses into a discouraged silence, occasionally piping up to say things like "Is that blurry thing a monkey or a dog?" and "Is it real?"( Collapse )
I should probably clarify that India is the best and most amazing place I have ever been to or could ever even conceive of existing. It is possibly many powers of ten more amazing than the human mind can perceive, plus, it has friendly donkers roaming the street and SOMETIMES THE DONKEYS LOOK A BIT LIKE HARD WAYWARD GANGS. It is ace, is what I'm, saying. REALLY VERY ACE. I recommend it most highly.
I hope you are all thriving merrily. Kisses!
|Saturday, March 3rd, 2007|
OMG EVERYONE LUNAR ECLIPSE RIGHT NOW! I suppose everyone knows. I always find out these things late. Or forget about them until the last minute. You're all not here, aren't you? Tchah. Well, I hope that's because you're all LOOKING OUT OF YOUR WINDOWS! OMG THE EARTH IS A RED SHADOW ON THE MOOOOOOON! If you stood up tall enough in the right place on the earth, maybe you could see YOUR OWN SHADOW ON THE MOON, WAVING! Current Mood: awooooooooooooooo!
|Friday, January 5th, 2007|
|over-reactions r us
Hello darlings. Happy new year. Am back in Brum, back to work, real life continues apace, but bugger all that for the moment because ( Collapse )
Good night! Current Mood: histrionic
|Thursday, December 28th, 2006|
|so enough of this terror, we deserve to know light
Hello! I am glad everyone seems to have had/be having nice holiday-type things. Mine was quite nice, mostly there was trifle and family and Joanna Newsom's new album, which makes me well up and sniffle like a CHILD oh god I love it and I want everyone else to love it TOO but often it is hard to persuade people to download and listen to twelve-minute-long harp-medieval-indie-prog songs. Hmmm. I shall think further on this problem.
Because it is nearly the end of the year, and I never do memes, and I love this one like puppies and kittens:Comment and I'll tell you why you rock.
I'd do that other one where you just go through your entire flist and tell everyone
why they rock, regardless of whether they want you to or not, but am vaguely worried that some people might not like that. I mean, it's unlikely, but still. Am making sure I get consent first. Go on, kiddies. Let me tell you why you are great.ETA:
I would just like to make the disclaimer that I do not, as might be suggested from my answers to this meme, in fact want to kidnap you all and keep you all in a state of semi-idolising (idolatrous?) captivity, locked in wooden cages and crowned with feathery headdresses, to be crooned over several times a day by me and my cossetted one-eyed pet monkey Mr Scruffins. I DO NOT WANT THAT AT ALL, despite the multitudinous perfections, moral and otherwise, y'all manifest. Plz not to fear me as a creepy stalker. Thank you. ♥ Current Mood: singing really loudly
|Wednesday, December 20th, 2006|
|secular yuletide cheer
I was going to post something rambly and happy about how I love Christmas, I really do. God, I love how shiny
it is, and I love how for ninety percent of the population it's just about celebrating celebration. I love that it's special just because you say so. I love how it's got this huge amount of evocative stuff wrapped around it and it's all evocative just because
it's wrapped around it. I love that every year you feel cosy and special because you're doing the things you did last year which were the same as the things you did the year before that and the things you've been doing every year since you were born and there was never any reason for doing them in the first place except that you did them and now they're important. It's a bit like a great big shared roleplay where everyone joins in the illusion. All the ceremony and the lights and the wrapping paper and the LIES, because it is all LIES and I love that everyone makes the effort to pretend that it all actually matters because then it kind of does. Dude! Festivals are the best.
And I love the trees and all the lights at night. Maybe that's the best thing. And I love that people will tell you Hans Christian Andersen stories. Well, no-one actually has yet, but I believe that if ever's a time when they might do, it's now. And I love that somehow, throughout the run-up, you really do get the sense of something
vaguely numinous approaching, and you don't know what. When you get to Christmas day the feeling evaporates and it's just an ordinary nice day with presents and food and whatnot, but still next year you'll have that run-up of approaching awe, and I have no idea why because as far as I'm concerned there's nothing to hope for but still there it is.
And oh, there are lies about JESTERS and SWANS and SNOW and GEESE and LOG FIRES and SNOWY NORTHERN FORESTS and STARLIT NIGHTS and MINCE PIES and ORANGES WITH CANDLES IN and LOTS OF THINGS WITH CANDLES IN and TINSEL OMG OMG TINSEL and REINDEER and probably there is BEAUTIFUL REINDEER SLASH1
out there somewhere and there are Christmas films like that one with DUDLEY MOORE AND THE PURPLE LOLLIPOPS THAT MAKE YOU FLY and there are CHRISTMAS CAROLS OH GOD THAT IS MOSTLY WHAT I LOVE THE CHRISTMAS CAROLS OH GOD OH GOD, and there is constant piped Christmas music in all the shops that EVERYBODY HATES, except for like one person somewhere who really enjoys listening to Slade all December, there is one person like that in every gathering and I love them. And people go to such efforts to buy presents, and mortgage their house and car and turn to pickpocketing and armed robbery in order to subsidise their vague sense of guilty gift-giving obligation. And then, people's shy faces when you're opening the present they brought for you, OH, if there was nothing else in the world worth loving that would be enough. ♥! And there is WRAPPING PAPER and CURLY RIBBON! And oranges and cloves and people shop for turkey and poke fretfully at the turkey and say things like "I don't think this turkey's big enough!!!" and have massive turkey angst. And your house smells like pine trees. And Christmas cards, I love them so much, Christmas cards, for fuck's sake! And you drive around at night and look at all the lights and the tacky christmas displays are the alivest things you ever saw. And the Salvation Army play the brass in the city square and your eyes prickle and you're not exactly sure why but dude, people playing brass in the cold and the tinselly light for an empty holiday and people have so much faith
and it's going nowhere except here and. dude.
Then I realised that that's mostly what Hogfather's about, so whatevs, Terry Pratchett, whatevs. ♥
Speaking of Hogfather, ( Collapse )
Still on an xmas-y note, OMG jekesta
THANK YOU! ♥ ♥ ♥ Dude! Thank you so much! *delight* I, uh, opened the present. PLEASE DO NOT HATE ME I AM RUB. I was a bit tired and not thinking that straight and it was so SHINY and I was nosy DO NOT JUDGE ME. And it is nearly xmas anyway. But OMG THANK YOU YES MINISTER PICTURES YES MINISTER PICTURES GLITTER PENS AND PAPER AND CHOCOLATE AND YES MINISTER PICTURES I NEARLY DIED I LOVE YOU THANK YOU!
And omg, thanks muchoes for the cards, thedivineshadow
! Rachel, you couldn't remember my surname? For shame! ;D And Rachael, I THANK YOU ONE HUNDREDFOLD FOR YOUR CHRISTMAS WISHES WRT TO MY CONSULTANT. :D ♥
I am pretty much not doing anything christmassy with cards and stuff this year because I suck. I'm sorry! I send you all lots of christmas wishes and stuff with my mind. WITH MY MIND. And I hope you're all having lovely week-befores and not too stressed and so forth ♥. Annnd... I would say more but I have to go and pick indigorat
up from the train station. GOODWILL TO ALL MEN, PEOPLE. GOODWILL TO ALL MEN.1. Blixen chewed his hay and tried to look nochalant. It was hard when Rudolph was right beside him, gnawing on his own apple with every sign of contentment. Blixen could smell his scent, musky and masculine and just a tiny bit radioactive.
Blixen sneaked a look. Rudolph's coat gleamed like silk poured over his strong haunches. His antlers were large and sharp. And his nose- that proud, red nose- Blixen turned his face away hurriedly, before he did anything rash.
He wasn't sure when his feelings for the other reindeer had turned into something... more than friendship. Even back in the beginning, when Rudolph was still an outcast among the reindeers, Blixen had been drawn to the strange, proud reindeer with the fiery red nose and temper to match...
[INS. FIVE HUNDRED PAGES OF EXPOSITION]
"Why don't you tell him how you feel, Blixen?" Santa said gently.
"I can't! Christmas is coming... I daren't jeopardise our working relationship! What if he doesn't return my feelings? I can't put the team at risk like that!"
"Tut, tut!" clucked Mrs Christmas, bustling in with a pot of tea. "You young 'uns are always making excuses. Working relationship, shmirking relationship! Always follow your heart, that's what I say."
[CONTINE FOR SIX THOUSAND PAGES]
Rudolph reared up on his powerful haunches, roaring his triumph. Blixen stood before him, his hindquarters presented, his silky elegant head hanging down submissively.
Rudolph nuzzled his flank. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm sure, Rudolph. I've wanted this for so long!" Blixen's pointy ears twitched with eagerness. Rudolph gave him a loving nip on the haunch.
"Then hold on tight!" he said, "because I'm going to guide your sleigh tonight!"
He reared up, ready to mount him...
[INSERT FIFTY-SEVEN PAGES OF EYE-SEARINGLY VILE REINDEER SEX]
OMG LOL R&R PART 2 COMING SOON!!!!1!! Current Mood: of good cheer
|Monday, December 4th, 2006|
|if it ain't broke, sell it on quick before they notice
(The scene: a dark cave. Fire shadows are flickering eldritchly on the walls. There are stalagtites and stalagmites and stalagbites1. A deep voice speaks from the shadows.
TO-DO LIST: (sternly
) WHAT... is my function?
Me: To sit in my notebook, making me feel somehow virtuous and organised.
TO-DO LIST: NO!
) To... to sit on the wall next to my bed, making me feel worried and vaguely hunted?
TO-DO LIST: YOU ARE INCORRECT, YOUNG PILGRIM.
Me: Wait, wait, I know this. To allow me to collect all my failings together in one place and then sit and look at them?
(Thunder cracks. The shadows flicker.)
TO-DO LIST: (roars
Me: (cowers and babbles
) To... to use up ink? To make paper aeroplanes? To grow unceasingly, forever and ever amen; unending, eternal and ineffable, alpha and omega, gamma and delta, tea and biscuit: stranger to the crossing-off, warrior against the ticky-box; for lo thou hast no beginning and no end but only a form as of growing and and a great substance of fear-
TO-DO LIST: Erm-
Me: (laughing, crying, sobbing etc
)TO PUT INTO BIG PILES AND MAKE HOUSES FOR SEAGULLS TO LIVE IN???
TO-DO LIST: ...
TO-DO LIST: Oookay, take five.
Today I acquired, among various other sundries, 3.5lb of cooked potatoes. God, I love the cleaning/admin staff:( Collapse )( Collapse )
Yeah. So. In general life at the moment is just a leetle
bit pressed ohgodohgodohgod
but pretty entertaining. :) I hope it is treating you all kindly and that you are all as glorious and cuddly and wonderful as is your wont ♥ ♥ ♥. Here are some songs that are making me bounce today:New York Dolls - Dance Like A Monkey
Wins all possible amounts of points ever for rhyming "anthropomorphise" with "peversely polymorphorsise".Tim Carroll - If I Could
*dies of glee* if I could just get by loving you dear, then I would just get by making love to youBonnie Prince Billie - Horses
I like Bonnie "Prince" Billy. For one thing, he's always careful to make it quotation-mark-tastically clear that he's not really a prince. 1. A delicious cheesy snack, sold in selected stores only!
2. I should probably clarify that Guy is the guy I'm currently partnered with. His pseudonym is Guy because he's basically like a satanic cross between my brother and a camper, more hyper version of Guy from Green Wing. He is barmy and exhausting and almost criminal amounts of fun.3
3.He also described me, during an extended bout of insult exchange, as having "crazy paving hair and a menacing jester's grin", which tickles me so much that I'm considering putting it on my userinfo.
|Tuesday, October 31st, 2006|
|hey man whaddaya expect the guy's a GIGOLO man! huh-huh!
Our internet is broken! Often it is broken. Sometimes it is broken because the router (note: is this what it's actually called?) won't talk to the wireless... thing (... wireless thing? makes flashy lights? sends the internet through the air by MAGIC?). Sometimes it is broken because the wireless thing won't talk at all. Sometimes it is broken because of Reasons that we don't quite understand but involve pressing "Reset!" on every single piece of hardware and software we can lay our hands on. This time it is broken because the button on top of the... router?... won't press. IT WON'T PRESS I TELL YOU. This seems a rather sadly un-technologically advanced reason to have no internet, even by my rather modest standards.
We've tried all sorts. We've tried pressing it hard, we've tried pressing it using the blunt end of forks, we've tried wiggling it around and pressing it, we've tried holding it upside down and pressing it, we've tried pressing it while shrieking loudly. BUT NO. THESE STRATAGEMS DO NOT WORK. WE CAN'T PRESS THE BUTTON THAT MAKES IT TALK TO THE OTHER ONE. It sits there flashing its lights. The other one sits there flashing its lights. But unlike the mermaids, they will not sing each to each. And they certainly won't sing to me.
This means that I have to use the medschool computers for Purposes. I cannot, I cannot express how paranoid I am about using LJ on the medschool computers. I went on it once two years ago, and asked it to Clear History afterwards, and Delete Temporary Files, and still whenever I incautiously type "l" into the taskbar there it is, the cursed address, THE ADDRESS OF MY LIVEJOURNAL.
I have paranoid thoughts. What if the medschool routinely monitor all the recreational sites we go on? What if they make a sweep every month? What if they discovered the existence of my LJ two years ago and now read it regularly, chortling at my personal life and carefully constructing the case that will allow the GMC to suspend me for reading gay porn? WHAT IF? Not to mention all the other medstudents around. Occasionally one of them walks past and says "hi" and I have to quickly minimise the window and yet I FEAR THEY WILL READ THE ADDRESS WITH THEIR EYES OF JUDGE AND LOOKING. You see that I am very well balanced about this.
So, yes. The main reason I am braving the contempt of all my fellow men and my possible dismissal from medschool is to say OMG THANK YOU girlofprey
! I got the parcel this morning, redirected via les parents, and OMG I LOVE YOU THANK YOU. Chocolate! A book! Pictures of gay cowboys, such as would be suitable to keep in one's wallet! And SALT!!! I take it back, you are a lovely fairy-dell-dweller, and we are now all fair and square. Omg! Tingo means "To borrow items from a friend's home one by one until there is nothing left"! THAT IS TOTALLY ONE OF MY PRINCIPAL HOBBIES AND OCCUPATIONS! (also, "Tingo" is a nicer word than tiniago, I am tempted to change it). THANK YOU I LOVE YOU THANK YOU. ♥ ♥ ♥
I love you other ones all also! I am happily emailable if there is Things Of What You Would Have Me Wot. I may LJ a bit, so point me in the right direction if there's anything you might want me to see. Oh, also I notice there are a few new people around as well, hello! I point you to the disclaimer on my userinfo that says I am RUBBISH at LJ and tardy like a tardy tardy truck. But hello! :)
Umm. Yes. I hope everyone is having fun and loveliness in their lives. Happy Hallowe'en! Current Mood: paranoid/loving/grateful
|Sunday, October 22nd, 2006|
|a short logical progression
My favourite conversation from last night:
"Why is toast so nice?"
"Because it's made by little ANGELS."
"Oh. Right. (pause) Where do these little angels live?"
"In the toaster, of course!"
"Oh. But what do they eat?"
"They eat the wetness and whiteness out of bread, so that when the toast comes out it's all golden-brown and crunchy."
"Oh! So is that why when it's left in for longer all the whiteness goes and it's all black?"
"Yes! They've eaten the whiteness all out of it."
"Ah. (pause) Are they like the angels that live in the sky?"
"Yes, they're the same class. Or order, or phylum, or something. But not the same species."
"What do they
"They eat the whiteness out of clouds! So when the clouds are grey, it means there's more of them about. And that's why when the clouds are very, very dark you sometimes hear thunder, it's lots of very full angels all going ""Ahhhhmngglumblessmmmm", which means "Oh, so full!" in angel language!"
. Is that why they wear white?"
"But why are they so small?"
"So they can fit in the toaster, of course!"
This whimsy pleases me so strangely. I like so much the idea of angels eating the wetness out of your toast. Also the idea that the greyness of the clouds directly correlates to the number of angels over your head, whizzing busily around eating all the white, flocking in big faintly menacing... flocks, making our days DARKER and MORE DREARY. And that presumably when the skies are all blue and clear there are no angels around, or at least maybe the only odd quite peckish one bobbing along at stratospheric level, looking for somewhere nice and cloudy to feast, for example Scotland. "The weather is much nicer when there are no angels around" is the sort of vague, unarguable saying you could imagine passing easily into weather folklore. I can imagine Michael Fish saying it. "And there's a big front of angels moving down from the North-West tonight,"; that sort of thing. "Fucking angels," you could say on bad days, looking up malevolently into the gloomy sky, it would be ace!1
Hello! Note how I am somewhat mending my LJ ways. SEE HOW I SPAM. I think one of my problems with LJ is that it takes an awful lot more time if one wants to say something that isn't literally just whatever nonsense is happening to pass through one's mind at the given moment of update. That was a convoluted sentence, wasn't it? I love you all A LOT. I had a birthday, did I mention I had a birthday, it was pretty good, I got love and cake and dancing and a disco ball and A CUSTOMISED SCRUB TOP WITH SPARKLY WRITING ON that says "Dr Doom" and suchlike assorted things. (Also, on a fannish note, I acquired the first season of Hill Street Blues on DVD and no-one else seems to ever have heard of or watched Hill Street Blues and there is no fandom but it is GLORY. It is genuinely good and interesting and great and there are plotlines and humour and people and LOTS OF GAY, omg, most police seriesiesies just have one pairing or so but Hill Street Blues has LOTS of pair-bonds of eternal love and devotion and gay. I will make you all love it. Eventually. Mark my words.)
Mmm, it is raininnnng and the cars are all going swooosh-swooosh! Here, here is a Leonard Cohen song, it's called Field Commander Cohen
, I doubt you want it but I love it with madness, I have only just discovered it due to making the unprecedented step of listening to bits of Leonard Cohen that aren't on the Best Ofs, who knew there were bits of Leonard Cohen that weren't on the Best Ofs, eh? Not I! I hope you are all ever so lovely and well. Yes.1. Please to note that I do not believe in angels. Thank you. Current Mood: loved
|Wednesday, October 18th, 2006|
|a post comprised solely of whining and crass materialism
Hello lovelies. I think I have apologised somewhat but will stick one here for reference: I'm very sorry for being so tardy and rubbish and rude with LJ. I don't mean to be, I am sorry. I have vague plans to Mend My Ways but know better than to make any hopeful estimations or plans or anything. I hope you will continue to talk to me and not spurn me proudly like a 16th-century fop (although obviously if you did that would be kind of sexy.) (but, er, please don't) (although if you actually want to that is TOTALLY OKAY) (♥ ♥ ♥)
I have things. Things go on. Many of them excite and please me but are too lengthy to type and probably quite boring to everyone else anyway. Oh, I have a car now! I am driving a car! I got it last week. I am horrendously spoiled. I know. You may privately judge me if you wish. Well, you may publicly judge me too if you wish. My car is more beautiful than a thousand starry skies. It is more magical than a dolphin playing the lute. MY CAR IS MADE OF JOY AND HAS A 1.4 ENGINE. He is a Clio and he picks up speed so sweetly and quick on the motorway, he is responsive and whippy to drive with a little bit of give in him, he is like a SEAL, a seal that can carry you at a hundred miles per hour! I have given him a name because I am lame, his name is Ferdinand. This works because when I was three I had a thrice-million-times handed down rocking stuffed bear-dog-lion thing called Ferdy. He was threadbare and ginger and I loved him beyond sense. Ferdinand is grey and in quite good nick but otherwise it is the same, I love him beyond SENSE AND REASON, OH GOD I LOVE HIM. He has cut the five hours a day I was spending commuting to Kidderminster down to a playful two-ish, HE IS LIKEN UNTO A REALLY FAST GOD.
There is only one snag. A flaw, if you will. The flaw is that I am desperately unworthy of Ferdinand - it may seem that this should go without saying, but I mean in a way beyond the moral. The thing is, you see, the thing is, I AM NOT A VERY GOOD DRIVER.
Yes. You may judge me now. I go on the road and ALL THE HORNS SING THEIR LITTLE DEVIL SONG TO ME. Today I got honked and I don't even know why
. And I got TRAPPED in a parking space! I did an amazingly rubbish thing where I went in at a totally stupid angle and then every attempt to adjust just brought me closer to the car on my left, until eventually I was at a 45o
angle literally two inches away from it
and a nice man had to come and rescue me. ("Pull on the steering wheel!" he said, quickly judging my abilities, "Pull this hand
) down!"). OH GOD. And I had to cope with paid parking and I DIDN'T HAVE ANY MONEY. Always a disadvantage with paid parking. And I drove around and EVERY SINGLE CAR JUDGED ME WITH THEIR EYES. THEIR BLIND WINDSCREEN EYES. OH GOD. I CANNOT COPE.
People try and console me. Many, many people try, up to and including passing acquaintances and strangers in queues; I am not stoical about my motorway angst. I keep on having conversations like this:
) Don't worry, I get really nervous too. I make all sorts of mistakes.
Me: (white-faced and trembly
) I keep on messing up my lanes. Especially on roundabouts.
: Aww, roundabouts are hard.
Me: I stalled for five minutes on a big
roundabout because I didn't realise I was in third.
) Well, you'll remember to check next time, won't you?
Me: I did something with the clutch and made Ferdinand smell of burning rubber. Twice.
: Okay, well, er, I'm sure he'll be alright...
Me: I got honked lots
. And I got lost. And I got trapped in a car park.
: Oh, that happens to all of us, don't worry...
Me: And I had to reverse round a roundabout.
: ... Okay, well, I've never done that
(an awkward silence
Oh god, and things. Birmingham is horrible. There are rush hours and bizarre junctions and people undertake you and there are lanes, lanes, so many lanes, and it is always rainy or foggy or misty or dark or ALL OF THE ABOVE. And there are sometimes pedestrians
darting at the corner of my vision, giving me cold sweats because you never know, they might choose to hurl themselves into my path at any time
. Because PEDESTRIANS DO THAT. Yes, it has been a tough week-and-a-half for me and my new friend, Mr Tension Headache.
Ah well. All things must pass,
hopefully not in a cloud of flaming wreckage,
and until then must be endured in great embarrassment. Enough screeching! I hope you are all awfully well and happily happy in happiness. MUCH LOVE FOR YOU ALL and remember, DO NOT EVER CROSS THE ROAD. STAY ON YOUR SIDE. FOREVER. Thank you. Current Mood: happy
|Saturday, September 9th, 2006|
|in his lifetime, he suffered from unreality, as do so many Englishmen
HELLO. I have been away for a while. Sorry. OH GOSH I LOVE YOU ALL. I am so busy BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY. I'm not doing anything yet my time SKITTERS AWAY FROM ME LIKE LITTLE WEASELS ON SKATES. I think mostly maybe I am spending my time fruitlessly worrying about how I am not doing any work. Like the cool efficient sablon1
of brilliance I am. Yeeeeeah.
Mostly I am drifting around in a vague fog of worry. Hospital is quite time-consuming. We are doing anaesthetics. This is a rotation comprised of three parts:
i) Hanging out in theatres all day. Being tongue-tied. Doing venflons (NEEDLES IN PEOPLE'S HANDS ARGH THEY WINCE AND THINGS ARGH). Intubating (SOMETIMES THEY ARE NOT DEEPLY ANAESTHETISED ENOUGH AND THEY GET LARYNGOSPASM AND CHOKE AND COUGH ARGH). Drawing up drugs (THIS IS STRANGELY MORE DIFFICULT THAN IT LOOKS AND YOUR WRISTS END UP CROSSING OVER SO MUCH THAT YOUR ARMS LOOK LIKE AN M.C. ESCHER PAINTING AND SOMETIMES THINGS GET DROPPED AND BROKEN AND THE NURSES LOOK
AT YOU ARGH).
ii) Thinking "I should really
do some work tonight." Not doing so. Being caught out again on easy questions the next day. Wanting to DIE DIE IN A HOLE.
iii) ADORING THE ANAESTHETISTS. Seriously, they are ALL nice and many of them are beautiful and they are all LIKE FLOPSY LITTLE BUNNY RABBITS. I LOVE THEM MORE THAN ALMOST ANYTHING. More detail possibly to follow at some point if I become maddened enough to type it. OH GOD LIKE FLOPSY LITTLE BUNNY RABBITS PEOPLE. LITTLE BUNNY RABBITS. I LOVE THEM SO. I LOVE THEM. OH YOU CANNOT IMAGINE THE DEPTHS OF THEIR DARLING ADORABLE PRECIOUS FLOPSINESS.
Other news other news otherotherothernews. Er. I finally passed my driving test. THREE FAULTS BABY YEAH. I made shortbread. I am hopefully going to see indigorat
in London next week. ENVY ME. Other stuff, there was other stuff. Oh! Yes! We moved house! At the beginning of August, that's why I disappeared from the internet particularly suddenly. We didn't have internet for a while and then this rotation got ON TOP OF ME LIKE HILLARY AND TENSING DID TO EVEREST. Incidentally, if there isn't Hillary/Tensing RPS-at-altitude somewhere I shall cry. Erm. Yes. I LOVE THE NEW HOUSE MORE THAN LIGHT OR LIFE DO I LOVE IT IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL. I am no longer living in a basement, THANK GOD, THANK GOD.
Things I love: bread-and-butter pudding. C.S. Lewis. Anaesthetists. Sunshine. Stories about Victorian clergymen. Words with lots of next-to-each-other vowels in, you know, like foetal and anaesthesia, THESE WORDS ARE SO BEAUTIFUL. Train journeys in the mornings. The power of adaptation. Co-workers making hilariously awkward conversation. Hearing people practice the flute rubbishly next door. Accelerating up from second. Pies. YOU. Also these songs
. These ones also
Download them now or risk making me weep. They are in no way esoteric or cool but oh well, oh well.
I AM MAKING NO SENSE AT ALL NOR EVEN TRYING TO. Did I mention I'm quite tired? I am, I don't know why. This post is not making any effort at all to be anything other than communication. No making-sense or entertainmentness, ohh no. By the end of next week we'll have done twelve weeks already, that's an entire term before other people have even finished their summer holidays yet, a third of the year gone, OH GOD I AM FRIGHTENED. Oh, I think I am going to India for my elective. Should I go to India? whatho
, you've been to India, is it nice, should I go? It will be April-June, it will perhaps be rainy. Hmmm.
I love you all much. I don't have time to go through all your posts properly and respond with fitting effort to all the wonderful things you have said in my absence. I AM SORRY. LJ just takes so much time to do properly. You are all sparkly. I will be busy next week and away the week after that but possibly after that I will be around more I think/hope. Not that I expect you are bemoaning my absence but you know what I mean. LOVE.1.This is a word I have just made up, because it sounded like the word I wanted.
2. I finally worked out, after years of wondering why music copied on my computer sounded so dead, how to do the high-res thing and I am NEVER GOING BACK. Hence all files are ginormous. Sorry. Current Mood: worried
|Sunday, July 16th, 2006|
|Tuesday, July 11th, 2006|
|a noble plan; a short digression on the subject of cocktails; some advice
and I have conceived of a wish. A wish that is pure and burning, like a pillar of salt at noon. We wish to play Monopoly... in the paddling pool
Nothing seems to us more exotic, more wildly exciting and decadent, than this. This, we say to each other, is surely the sort of thing billionaires
do. We are eagerly awaiting the opportunity to put our plan into practice. We have Monopoly and a pool and HM#1
declares that she doesn't mind making her bedside table all waterlogged. We're just waiting for the sun and our individual skiving schedules to coincide. Today it was sunny but she was off somewhere, leaving me to sit and fruitlessly dream of the glory to come.
I visualise us sitting in the pool, with the Monopoly board on its little pedestal of prestige in the middle. In my mind we are wearing sunglasses. I don't own sunglasses. Whatever. We are drinking cocktails out of tall elegant glasses with condensation sweating off the sides. Proper
cocktails. Cocktails that taste nice, not the ones we make that always seem to end up like some sort of deadly black hole of sugar and ethanol; you know, the ones that end up with people peering over your shoulder and wrinkling their noses and saying things like "Oh, well, sling some grenadine in, that might fix it... AUGH... okay, that didn't fix it". Cocktails that have been made from RECIPES, with PROPORTIONS and ALL THE REQUIRED INGREDIENTS, rather than "Okay, the recipe says rum and vermouth and orange juice and coconut milk and slices of lemon. What have we got? (sound of rifling through the drinks cabinet
)... vodka and gin and someone's holiday ouzo and Ribena. Okay." You know the kind of cocktails where people1
say "What's the real
difference between olives and raisins? Practically speaking?"? Not that kind
. REAL BEAUTIFUL COCKTAILS SUCH AS THE NOCTURNALLY BLESSED SEE IN DREAMS. THAT IS WHAT I ENVISAGE. We will sit in our child's paddling pool and drink our cocktails and play Monopoly, and the world will revolve around us in LIGHT.2
Now a short piece of advice. On my flying visit to the ancestral domicile this weekend I was quizzed extensively by my sister's sweet, puppyish sixteen year old friend, who eagerly seized the opportunity to verify her medical knowledge with a semi-reputable source3
. My favourite question was this:
Sister's friend: (in all sincerity
) Okay, is it true that... if someone's electrocuted, you have to hit them with a wooden stick?
THE ADVICE I GIVE UNTO YOU IS: PRAY TO GOD THAT YOU ARE NEVER IN THE POSITION OF HAVING TO RECEIVE FIRST AID FROM A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD, PEOPLE. HEED IT WELL. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HEED IT WELL.1. Okay, me.
2. No, but seriously, cocktails, man! It's just occurred to me that there should be a range of fannish-themed recipes! Called things like "Sir Humphrey's Nipples" or "Ginger Mountie Screw" or "Incest Twist" or "Stripped Norrington's Revenge". SERIOUSLY, WHO KNOWS THE SECRET OF PALATABLE COCKTAILS? THERE SHOULD BE A FANNISH COCKTAIL COMPENDIUM LIKE RIGHT NOW. OMG.
3. INSERT HOLLOW LAUGHTER AND QUOTATION MARKS HERE AS APPROPRIATE. Current Mood: dreaming big dreams, baby
|Saturday, July 1st, 2006|
OH THE TRAGIC MONTAGE ON BBC I AM LAUGHING VERY HARD.
I AM SORRY, I DO NOT MEAN TO BE CRUEL. IT IS THE MONTAGE THAT DOES THIS TO ME. I LOVE AND SYMPATHISE WITH THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE WEEPING AT HOME.
IT IS SAD.
OH SO SAD.
SVEN/SCOLARI FOREVER. Current Mood: LAUGHING VERY HARD I AM SORRY.