Thursday, November 07, 2002

Isn't Leonore some kind of fabric conditioner? Who on Io would call a kid after fabric conditioner?! *shrugs* ahh well... kids named after fabric conditioner dating egotistical idiots nicknamed after master vampires, it all gets kind of confusing. Maybe I should do some sort of cast list thingie, but I can't think what I'd write for most people.

I've had a lovely birthday. Of course I feel all old and grown up, but it was nonetheless lovely. Any day that starts with a shooter of dope, cough syrup and red wine and continues with pretty much solid drinking all day is a good day if you ask me, but then again nobody did. Ask me, that is. People have a habit of not asking me things, even when they know very well that I can answer their questions more capably than most. Not everyone, you understand, certainly there are people just as capable, but it would be nice to be a first line just once in my life. Kind of reminds me of that episode of BtVS, I think it was "Surprise" or the one immediatly after. Buffy annihilates the Judge and the others get to pick up afterwards. Cordelia says something like "We get the pieces? Our job sucks!" and that pretty much sums it up. Someone else gets the stuff that draws kudos, I get the pieces, and sometimes not even that.

But contrary to popular belief, I'm not moaning about that. I was actually just saying my birthday was cool, and only one person inflicted singing on me (no comment on the singing you understand, just the whole singing Happy Birthday thing kind of grates on me) but she also bought me the red velvet top I've been dribbling all over for months and making sticky I'm sure so all is forgiven. I love my new top - now I need a reason to wear it. Hmmm.. Guild Meeting.. heh heh heh.... Inherited my Nan's solitaire diamond today, feels sort of odd, but works somehow. Nice to know she's happy.

Watched SpongeBob SquarePants. Mistake, big big mistake. My brain has died.

That reminds me, I started a Blog just for my crappy fiction. See drivel as it happens at www.purelyderivative.blogspot.com

Wednesday, November 06, 2002

<<>

That was entirely uncalled for, Beth. People's sexual proclivities are their own business even if they do involve wining dining and sixty-nining a young aristocratic male in a dress and calling him Lucy.

You know, where I work the system has several buttons to push to determine the outcome of your call, including "Not Qualified" "Not Interested" "Wrong Number" and "Slammer" I was thinking tonight there should be ones labelled "Old" "Mad" "Thick As Hell" "Dead" and "Scouser" - there is nothing wrong with Scousers, my attorney is Scouse, but frankly the ones I tend to get on the phone have shell suit written all over their voices. And you wouldn't believe how many people called Mervyn live in Gloucestershire. I arrived back at work after an absence which had made my boss think I'd quit and left for Italy to discover I now work for an extra 15 minutes per night. That doesn't sound too bad does it? ahhh, but you don't work in telesales, that's an average of six minutes extra abuse. I was thinking on my way to work today that I should just apply for a new job, but frankly my discalculia prevents me operating a till with any degree of sucess and many heavy labour jobs are funny about taking young women for some obscure reason. Next time I get a "but you're a girl!" I'm going to offer to bloody arm-wrestle my boss. Spiral fractures tend to convince people of your capability to lift things. So I'm stuck for now, but I don't mind that much.

Well... what a week, what can I say? Beth arrived Tuesday, there was much cuddling and accusations of going all skinny, sat through Romanticism on Wednesday with a smirk to rival that of a cat who's just been shown how to work the cream churn then cooked pumpkin stuff with Ma'mselle and Wife. Sold said pumpkin stuff on Thursday afternoon (the CU were sad enough to check that none of the profits were going to Pagan Soc before donating. Pathetic if you ask me.) for the homeless shelter fund, and the Ritual - ahhh, the Ritual. Should have chosen Byron to catch me, she would at least have weided a scourge with more enthusiasm than Kate, and frankly the phrase "no tongues" would probably put her more in mind of Titus Andronicus than kissing. Much running about topless covered in woad and letting Liam out to play entirely too much, but what the heck... that evening was a great deal of fun. Ask my back (or ask the kind person who sat behind me in a lecture and pointed out my back to everyone in the hall) PULSAR bar crawl on Friday - went as Darla and Angelus (Beth as Darla, not me as both) which went well. Though the sight of the Lady Door snogging the fangs off Louis de Pont du Lac was frankly disturbing. Got told I looked more Lestat than Angelus which I'll take as a compliment. Jenny Red took 43 photos, I managed not to be in any of them - score! Dark Place Hellowe'en on Friday night - sweaty and packed, and preceeded by an afternoon in bed watching fireworks out the window and indulging in all manner of bountiful alcoholic, calorific and sanguinary delights. Life is good.

Beth left Saturday. *sniffle* miss my Beth...

Monday, Monday - what did I do Monday? Oh yes, got the new Angel novel which as it transpires features Shelley (again I say score) bounced off the celing a lot, felt terribly poetic, taught a Tasseomancy workshop. No I am not Proffessor McGonagle, nor was ever meant to be. Merely some attendant Witch who will do to start a Ritual or swell a Circle. Tuesday, went to Modernism and second year Romanticism - am rearranging my seminar so I can go to that every week now and possibly Writer's Guild also, but who knows, we'll see how things happen. Bitched about periods with Byron over a drink, didn't go to work due to getting back late from bitching session. Sir Whinealot is still full of cold, made him some carrot soup. I figure the nicer I am the quicker he'll get better, because we all know how much of a hamper to the healing process a complete bitch is don't we dearest? Wednesday, managed to be an entire hour late for class, but am Sally's pet pupil so she didn't seem to object, spent a lot of the class spouting about how the Iron Maiden version of "The Anciente Marynere" was really good. Mormon Girl has moved into my class. Joy. Went to work, see above. Freaky Tony is still hitting on me despite my frequent refferences to my Wife. *sigh* men.

Interesting fact. I'm 21 today and have been for about an hour and a half. Hmmm... it doesn't feel any different.

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

I take no blame watsoever for this poem, if people give me the fingers in the ears singing Mary Had A Little Lamb, this is what you should expect.

Mary had a little lamb, Percy had a goat, Byron used to screw them all while sailing in hs boat...
Pollydolly cooked the lamb and jerked off on the body, they all had it for dinner whilst seated in the lobby
"What is this lovely creamy sauce?" said Claire then with a grin, "it tastes a bit of seawater, and also tastes of gin"
It's my own special recipe" said Dr Polidori, "and Percy here can demonstrate, the making's not too gory"
Then Pollydolly dropped his pants and waved his parts at Percy, who thought behaviour quite like that was really rather dirty
So Mary finished off her lamb with all its creamy goodness, and they all went to the sitting room to finish off their rudeness.
Claire bent down and took a red hot poker from the fire, while Byron found a nice long bit of fine piano wire
They tied poor Pollydolly down and tortured him to death, and these few simple words he said with his expiring breath;
"I'm sorry Mary, for your lamb - I didn't mean to kill it. But sheep are so erotic when they're sizzling in the skillet!"

Right. I'll do a proper Blog in a bit, I just had to get that out of my system first.