Feb. 12th, 2011

phantym_56: (ed - sexyhat)

Today I have stayed in bed so late into the day that I started to feel lightheaded from lack of food and drink and decided I really had to get up now.

I have sat on the floor in front of the fire and finally put together my 20 chapters for The Sequel while Sister watches about twenty episodes of How I Met Your Mother back to back. I am not keen on Barney, I like Robyn and I have been in love with Alyson Hannigan's hair ever since I first laid eyes on her in the first Buffy episode I ever watched, quite a while back.

Mum has demonstrated that lack of way with words is genetic by describing the method by which we all spoke to my grandmother over the phone as "talkerphone".

I am watching Three Men in a Boat, which has reminded Mum that "whatshisname... you know.. him... Ed Byrne!" was on the One Show on Thursday. I know. I iPlayered it. She doesn't know that so she described the bit about him naming the baby. I casually said "I hear he's doing the dancing thing". "Yes," she said. "With his hairband." It took me a few watches to notice the hairband but she apparently spotted it immediately. My mother is a little too much like me at times.

I want to straighten my hair. Don't know why; I have a lot of hair and it's quite curly and I'm not physically capable of doing it all by myself. Might be because I saw some pictures of Avril Lavigne who also has a lot of hair, poker-straight and full of bright colours. I liked the scruffy boots thing she had going on as well.

I intended to have a bath tonight but it seems I'm being distracted by Harry Hill. And in a few weeks, I'm going to see Shaun the Sheep on stage. I have no idea how that will manifest itself but it's likely to be populated by smallish children.

And I am rambling

phantym_56: (ed - ponytail)
Hair straightened. I'm a little disappointed at its length. In my head, when it's straight it's insanely long. The reality is that when it's pulled straight it only reaches to an inch or so above my waist. The blonde is coming back. It's never going to regain the white-blonde it used to be when I was tiny but I think it may reach the golden light brown it was five or so years ago. If I don't go and dye it red again. Maybe it's time for a change. Maybe it's time to give up dying it various shades of mid-brown, chestnut and pillarbox and either let it turn back to blonde or give it a helping hand back.

I have done a mischief to my right knee. No idea how. It doesn't hurt unless I put my weight on it. Even poking it with my fingers doesn't work. I did exactly the same thing last year to my left knee. It concerned me a bit at the time because it was quite shortly before I was heading off to snowboarding at Altitude but it sorted itself out. To this day I know neither what I did to injure it in the first place or what happened to make it better the very week I happened to need it functional. So I assume the same thing has happened to the right knee now and that it also will stop hurting sooner or later. In the meantime, if I need to kneel or crawl, I use my left leg.

Intending to go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight. I've got into the terrible habit of staying up until 12.30/1am and then of course, being an early bird by nature, I'm exhausted in the morning. Bed as soon as parents turn off the TV which is on the other side of the wall but still only six feet away from my ears. And they're thin walls. There's a line in Friends "if you can recognise it through a wall, you know it too well!" I can recognise a lot of things through the wall. I generally know exactly what they're watching and I don't have to have seen it too may times to do it.

I have vague plans of running. At the moment, I don't run. I've never been a runner. For a while I was moderately less-than-appalling at high/long jump but it was a short while and it was definitely only less-than-appalling. But I quite fancy attempting to run. I live behind a big field, I have a pair of trainers suitable for running somewhere in the house and I'll start small and gentle. One minute jogging, one minute walking. That's a variation on Scout's Pace. Then I can either gradually take it up a step or abandon the ludicrous idea. I have quite muscular legs, a legacy of going to a school that was effectively split between two sites and required a five minute walk from one site to the other between lessons, usually with a long-legged friend who walked too fast for comfort. That and Duke of Edinburgh and being a Guide. Running would help stretch the tendons in my ankles too, which would help when I go snowboarding because having my feet immobilised in boots and then walking up a hill half a dozen times in quick succession gives me cramps, generally in my right leg only. This sometimes results in trying to get the boot off in a panicked hurry to stretch and rub the offending leg. (I occasionally have a tendency to panic when something gets stuck on my feet or in my hair. This is ludicrous, I know. I'm more likely to freak out if my laces are in a knot than at any other time. Ridiculous).

So yes, running. Goodnight.


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