phantym_56: (ascari love)
Don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't watched Top Gear for two weeks running now and can't seem to muster the energy to really care. This hurts. I think it's partly that over the last couple of series its popularity has exploded and as it has, the presenters have become more and more caracatures of themselves. The fun stuff has become rather more forced than it used to be and it's rather lost its sense of natural daftness. But I still love James - still want to be James when I grow up - and I have been left with a permanent love of cars. To be fair, I've had the love of cars since I was tiny. I'm far from alone in being the only little girl who preferred playing with cars to dolls but I suspect there weren't as many who could identify so many at the age of about four. Then I lost it a couple of years later. I don't know what happened to my brain when I was a small child but I remember one day just not being able to remember the name for anything. "Airing cupboard" and "Ford Sierra" were two that I particularly vividly remember not being able to remember. And my love of cars lay dormant until I was at university and started watching Top Gear. I don't go as far as to remember much detail about the engines and the horsepower (except that the McMerc SLR is 626hp) but I have my opinions on a lot of them - the most unpopular being that I love the Nissan Cube. I identified quite a lot with James May at the time - I think most people who identify with a Top Gear presenter go with James - and it's all left its mark on me... but it seems I no longer feel any urge to watch it.

Today I have read A Study in Scarlet. About time too. Again I was astonished at its readability, considering its age. And yes, the Mormon section could, at least, have been shrunk down quite a bit. And I don't think I'll be recommending it to Jess, who is a Mormon. But the thing that really astonished me was how much of the framework remained in the BBC version from last summer. I think it could have been fun to see Gregson v Lestrade v Holmes but I can see why Sherlock had to be Sherlock v the police. Holmes himself isn't quite, at this point, the same Holmes he is in the short stories which is what I've read so far. This Holmes is quite bitter about letting the police take the credit for his work whereas later on he really doesn't care. I believe I'm quite looking forward to reading The Sign of the Four in the next week.
phantym_56: (ascari love)
Sometimes, in real life, a car really does run out of screenwash the night before the MOT.

Yeah, my baby's all grown up. Three years old, off for her first MOT in the morning. Twenty-three miles away, got to be there by 8.30 in the morning. On a Saturday! Don't I get to stay in bed even at weekends? And I've got to get up even earlier because I've got to locate the screenwash in the garage and then locate the right hole to pour it into under the bonnet. The night before the MOT! Honestly, car!

I wore my skyscraper heels to work today. They do look good, I have to admit. But they hurt! Driving was fun! I couldn't feel the accelerator! I could feel the car responding to me flexing my foot but I couldn't feel the pedal. They came off after less than 45 minutes at work, because they were - in a side-effect I was not expecting - making me feel sick. I think it was because of having my legs at an unnatural angle constantly. Something just didn't feel right and it made me feel not very well. Not to mention the fact that I can't get up or down stairs in them and just standing up and walking was an effort. And it pushed me up to 5'8"/5'9" and while I quite enjoyed the extra height, eye-to-eye with the guys and looking down at the top of the girls' heads, it also made me feel very giraffe-like and conspicuous. And I made a slight stumble in the car park on the damn things (with a witness!) and am now aware of a slightly odd stiff feeling in that ankle. I don't think for one moment it's actually broken. I don't think it's even sprained. But you know that slightly uncomfortable sensation when you need to click the bones, which is relieved by clicking the bones? The bones don't click.

And I should stop poking at my teeth. They were fine for years and now I fear there's not a one worth saving. Ugh. Hate my teeth!

Got to go to bed. Got to be up early.
phantym_56: (ed - doesn't matter)

Hello. We knew I'd be back pretty soon. I've managed a few quiet days but let's not go into that. I enjoy wittering on here and it's silly to deprive myself of the release for no particular reason.

Since I last wittered, I think I've been snowboarding twice and got on pretty well both times. Back at the stage I was at last July but marginally less terrified. Not bad considering I pretty much abandoned it for the best part of six months. The instructors (who've had their hands full with kids on half term) have been encouraging and managing to keep half an eye on me, which is amazing considering I don't even know them. I like the snowboarders more and more all the time.

Today I've been shopping. See?

 

Today's shopping )


An elaborate fantasy of buying phones and furnishing a house on my imaginary lottery winnings. )


phantym_56: (ed - doesn't matter)
Today, I have done a brilliant impression of a normal, chatty, sociable human being. I have had an in-depth discussion of teeth with two colleagues I don't generally chat to (is it unusual to bite polos? I thought that was the usual way to eat them) and with the accountant about pre-decimal coins and eccentric great-uncles (I have one. Not at the moment, he died long before I was born, but I claim ownership of him) and smiled and enjoyed it. I don't generally (at least I hope I don't) appear moody and grumpy and all that at work but I'm quiet and I keep to myself and I don't usually chat outside of my particular friends. So that was nice.

I have got a drawing pin stuck in my hand (not "I have got" as in "right now there is a-" but in the sense of the past tense of got). It hurt. I now remember that injections hurt. I'd convinced myself that they don't really hurt and my phobia of them is simply of the phobic of them itself, that if I look at it or talk about it or think about it I will faint/throw up but actually, something sharp being poked into you does hurt and it's not so unreasonable to be petrified of that.

I had a giggle at myself today as well. Parked next to another Panda at Tesco, giggled for being so childish as to do that and then promptly had hysterics because that Panda was parked behind another. We looked like a little Panda convention out there.

In a bit I shall go and see my mentor, who came to observe Rangers last week and who this week shall go through my qualification and sign everything off.

I have cut my nails. I bit them until I was fourteen or so, then stopped literally overnight.  A few of them had got ludicrously long and full of what I call faultlines and my thumbnails were so long I could hardly do anything - earrings are impossible and I started having trouble doing up my necklace, so they're all cut back a bit and filed and I'm going to keep filing them regularly so they don't get weak and break and actually make some kind of vague effort to look after them.

So the only problem with my day is being shattered. I wish I could get used to going to bed before midnight and staying asleep all night but it's not working at the moment. I can't seem to make myself go to bed early enough and if I do, I can't get to sleep. The heating isn't working properly, so I have to sleep with the duvet over the blankets and it feels like... well, to say it feels like it's crushing me would be melodramatic but I'm definitely more comfortable with only the blankets. However, just blankets is too cold. So I never feel good in the morning and by the end of the day I'm ready to come home and crash. But my moods are ok which is a good thing.

In the meantime I am rewatching All the Small Things. I love Olive. (And Jake, obviously).

And finally, the pasta I've just eaten is expressing its displeasure at me having eaten it. Some of us never learn.
phantym_56: (snowboarding heaven)
I should go to bed because it's a little late and I'm about to be tired. I can feel it coming.

I don't know what's going on - I'm enjoying work! Well, not so much that I wouldn't stay home if I had the opportunity but I'm not getting up every day and going "Oh God, I can't face it today!" I'm busy, we've had visitors in all week so I've seen next-to-nothing of anyone with any authority, I've got loads of stuff done.
 
Driving the company car )
IT vs 71-year-old )
Snowboarding/snowboys )
And it appears, from comments on Facebook, that my mate Silver is coming home from his war earlier than I was expecting. No idea exactly when. I was expecting late March but people keep saying "Not long now!" which seems not quite right when he's still got 2 out of 6 months to go.

The trials and tribulations of needing to buy new shoes )

Aha. Here comes the impending tiredness. Time to brush my teeth and sort out my blankets. They seem to have had a party while I was out today. God knows how they've got in such a tangle. Have I mentioned recently? Blankets are awesome. Get rid of your convenient modern duvets. Blankets. They are the way forward.

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phantym_56

June 2012

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