shewho: (baboon)
technology, it hates me. waging a silent, slightly irritating war.

i have a two alarm morning set up. one that lives on my bedside table goes off about 6.30am. i turn it immediately off, but am roused enough to not ignore the second one. the second one is my mobile. my mobile hates me. it goes of at 7.15. i hit snooze for 9 minutes. it goes off again. i hit snooze for another 9 minutes. it goes off again. i get up.

this system has done me well for blinking ages. until this morning. where, i would argue, my mobile refused to go off at all. d would argue perhaps, that he heard it go off, heard me turn it off. he would be WRONG.

i was late today, by 20 minutes, another rare event. about a year or so ago i was repeatedly at least 40 minutes late and DIDN'T CARE.

***

my phone has also learnt another thing. i am Quite Good with keylock, because of accidental messaging. and even have handy fake names to stop me messaging alexes and zaras and the like.

if i open the camera lens cover, mind, all bets are off. which is handy for spur of the moment photos. but IT NOW KNOWS it can send junk picture messages. and does so.

***

i don't trust technology.

***

bestival tomorrow. guess who isn't ready?

to do tonight:
- purchase supplies.
- decant booze into plastic.
- finish some sewing.
- DO ALL THE PACKING.
- sleep at a sensible hour.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

***

finished The Shield last night. shane is still a DICK. poor ronnie. etc etc. WHAT TO DO NOW? i have started watching Sons of Anarchy, which is about a biker gang, purely because Dutch is in it. it's not the same.
shewho: (baboon)
technology, it hates me. waging a silent, slightly irritating war.

i have a two alarm morning set up. one that lives on my bedside table goes off about 6.30am. i turn it immediately off, but am roused enough to not ignore the second one. the second one is my mobile. my mobile hates me. it goes of at 7.15. i hit snooze for 9 minutes. it goes off again. i hit snooze for another 9 minutes. it goes off again. i get up.

this system has done me well for blinking ages. until this morning. where, i would argue, my mobile refused to go off at all. d would argue perhaps, that he heard it go off, heard me turn it off. he would be WRONG.

i was late today, by 20 minutes, another rare event. about a year or so ago i was repeatedly at least 40 minutes late and DIDN'T CARE.

***

my phone has also learnt another thing. i am Quite Good with keylock, because of accidental messaging. and even have handy fake names to stop me messaging alexes and zaras and the like.

if i open the camera lens cover, mind, all bets are off. which is handy for spur of the moment photos. but IT NOW KNOWS it can send junk picture messages. and does so.

***

i don't trust technology.

***

bestival tomorrow. guess who isn't ready?

to do tonight:
- purchase supplies.
- decant booze into plastic.
- finish some sewing.
- DO ALL THE PACKING.
- sleep at a sensible hour.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

***

finished The Shield last night. shane is still a DICK. poor ronnie. etc etc. WHAT TO DO NOW? i have started watching Sons of Anarchy, which is about a biker gang, purely because Dutch is in it. it's not the same.
shewho: (baboon)
further to last night's shenanigans i appear to be without a mobile phone.

has anyone seen a red sony ericsson k810i?

did you pick it up in the rochester?

did you see me do something speshul with it?

how did i get home?

help!

waaaaah.
shewho: (baboon)
further to last night's shenanigans i appear to be without a mobile phone.

has anyone seen a red sony ericsson k810i?

did you pick it up in the rochester?

did you see me do something speshul with it?

how did i get home?

help!

waaaaah.
shewho: (flash boom bang)
Woman, 29, discovers she HAS BEEN PAID after all and should have waited until later in the day to check her online banking.

/ LJ plagiarism

PHEW

Still a bit brassic though. Hopefully to be sorted by Tuesday. Will have to practice moderation this weekend, must learn how to cope with finances.

***

In other news:
[livejournal.com profile] angelv and [livejournal.com profile] moleintheground are well wick.
♥ white wine and nurofen may help my back, but it doesn't half make me babble.
♥ i am still chargerless for my shiny mobile, [livejournal.com profile] hoshuteki, do you perhaps have one?
♥ it was lovely last night to see [livejournal.com profile] mrs_leroy_brown and [livejournal.com profile] sbp lazily round the corner from my work in the Lord Nelson, which has indeed become rather ace. I think I shall be visiting there again.
shewho: (flash boom bang)
Woman, 29, discovers she HAS BEEN PAID after all and should have waited until later in the day to check her online banking.

/ LJ plagiarism

PHEW

Still a bit brassic though. Hopefully to be sorted by Tuesday. Will have to practice moderation this weekend, must learn how to cope with finances.

***

In other news:
[livejournal.com profile] angelv and [livejournal.com profile] moleintheground are well wick.
♥ white wine and nurofen may help my back, but it doesn't half make me babble.
♥ i am still chargerless for my shiny mobile, [livejournal.com profile] hoshuteki, do you perhaps have one?
♥ it was lovely last night to see [livejournal.com profile] mrs_leroy_brown and [livejournal.com profile] sbp lazily round the corner from my work in the Lord Nelson, which has indeed become rather ace. I think I shall be visiting there again.

favour!

Sep. 18th, 2007 01:49 pm
shewho: (baboon)
can someone please text me? i keep getting texts and not hearing noise, which is very confusing indeed, and if i turn the volume up on the handset it starts warning me about loud noise and hearing loss, which is just FRUSTRATING because it's still not telling me there's a message.

so i've had a fiddle (fnar) and think i've fixed it. so if someone could send me a random insult or something, it'd be a very handy test.

thank you internets!

favour!

Sep. 18th, 2007 01:49 pm
shewho: (baboon)
can someone please text me? i keep getting texts and not hearing noise, which is very confusing indeed, and if i turn the volume up on the handset it starts warning me about loud noise and hearing loss, which is just FRUSTRATING because it's still not telling me there's a message.

so i've had a fiddle (fnar) and think i've fixed it. so if someone could send me a random insult or something, it'd be a very handy test.

thank you internets!
shewho: (angry)
There've been about 4 times in my life that I've been an idiot and had things stolen from me. Well, 4 times I'm a little ashamed about anyway.

1. Clubbing in Birmingham. I think I'd gone up to Brum with Rocksoc types for some sort of United Rocksocs of England nonsense. (Errrr, [livejournal.com profile] darkship I'm not sure if this was the first time I met you or not! I think it might have been the previous year.) I drank too much on the coach en route. I drank too much in the club. I went to the loo, and left my bag hanging on the coathook. Remembered, went back, surprise surprise, not there. HOWEVER! It had been handed in at the bar minus whatever meagre amount of money I hadn't drunk. I felt a bit of a wally.*

2. Club Loco in Bristol. Well, I *think* it was called Club Loco at the time. Either way, the club at the end of my road, under one of the many names it used to try and shake off the reputation it gained. Rock Night of some description. I was getting amorous with a (too!) young lady** from my work on the dance floor, and wanted better use of my hands. Ahem. Stupid clutch bag. Thrown to the side of the dance floor. Funnily enough, it disappeared. It, and the contents, were found later on the floor of the gents, nothing missing except the meagre amount of money I hadn't drunk. ***

3. Outside my house at knifepoint, Bristol. Same road as above. Don't get the wrong idea, it was wonderfully friendly and homely. The bouncers (when the club was running) would watch me to my door where ever I was coming home from. The chippy at the end knew my order. We'll forget about the various murders for a bit. Anyway. Too drunk. En route home from Redland (?) based party with p_dan_tic. Didn't notice the junkie following us, until he had a knife at my throat and his hand on my (stupid clutch) bag. We argued him into taking nothing except my wallet. Well, us and the neighbour who heard the kerfuffle and started threatening to get the junkie with his gun. He probably had one too. Who will know?

4. Today. Camden. Somewhere between Superdrug and Atlantic Clothing some complete CVNT managed to unzip my bag and remove my wallet and my phone. GRRRRRR.**** SO embarrassed. I like to think I'm at least a *little* street smart, and I have been hanging around in Camden for more than half my life. Idiot.

In summary, so you don't have to read the rest: my mobile and wallet were nicked today. Don't bother phoning me for the next few days, it won't work. Um, also, while I expect a sim card in 5 working days (ish) I won't have a phone to put it in. Does anyone have a spare lying around? *flutters eyelashes appealingly*

ALSO!

I no longer have any of your phone numbers. If you wish to hear from me ever again via telephone, please leave your contact numbers etc in a comment. They are screened. I shall check back later when I've sorted out some sort of brick to use to communicate with.

NB! It's all well and good leaving me random comments, but if you don't leave your number AS WELL I shall cry ;P You know who you are!









* Campaign to start using this word again starts HERE!
** I do still describe myself as completely straight, yes.
*** Recurring theme, hmm?
**** HAH!! No booze for at least 48 hours! No excuse!
shewho: (angry)
There've been about 4 times in my life that I've been an idiot and had things stolen from me. Well, 4 times I'm a little ashamed about anyway.

1. Clubbing in Birmingham. I think I'd gone up to Brum with Rocksoc types for some sort of United Rocksocs of England nonsense. (Errrr, [livejournal.com profile] darkship I'm not sure if this was the first time I met you or not! I think it might have been the previous year.) I drank too much on the coach en route. I drank too much in the club. I went to the loo, and left my bag hanging on the coathook. Remembered, went back, surprise surprise, not there. HOWEVER! It had been handed in at the bar minus whatever meagre amount of money I hadn't drunk. I felt a bit of a wally.*

2. Club Loco in Bristol. Well, I *think* it was called Club Loco at the time. Either way, the club at the end of my road, under one of the many names it used to try and shake off the reputation it gained. Rock Night of some description. I was getting amorous with a (too!) young lady** from my work on the dance floor, and wanted better use of my hands. Ahem. Stupid clutch bag. Thrown to the side of the dance floor. Funnily enough, it disappeared. It, and the contents, were found later on the floor of the gents, nothing missing except the meagre amount of money I hadn't drunk. ***

3. Outside my house at knifepoint, Bristol. Same road as above. Don't get the wrong idea, it was wonderfully friendly and homely. The bouncers (when the club was running) would watch me to my door where ever I was coming home from. The chippy at the end knew my order. We'll forget about the various murders for a bit. Anyway. Too drunk. En route home from Redland (?) based party with p_dan_tic. Didn't notice the junkie following us, until he had a knife at my throat and his hand on my (stupid clutch) bag. We argued him into taking nothing except my wallet. Well, us and the neighbour who heard the kerfuffle and started threatening to get the junkie with his gun. He probably had one too. Who will know?

4. Today. Camden. Somewhere between Superdrug and Atlantic Clothing some complete CVNT managed to unzip my bag and remove my wallet and my phone. GRRRRRR.**** SO embarrassed. I like to think I'm at least a *little* street smart, and I have been hanging around in Camden for more than half my life. Idiot.

In summary, so you don't have to read the rest: my mobile and wallet were nicked today. Don't bother phoning me for the next few days, it won't work. Um, also, while I expect a sim card in 5 working days (ish) I won't have a phone to put it in. Does anyone have a spare lying around? *flutters eyelashes appealingly*

ALSO!

I no longer have any of your phone numbers. If you wish to hear from me ever again via telephone, please leave your contact numbers etc in a comment. They are screened. I shall check back later when I've sorted out some sort of brick to use to communicate with.

NB! It's all well and good leaving me random comments, but if you don't leave your number AS WELL I shall cry ;P You know who you are!









* Campaign to start using this word again starts HERE!
** I do still describe myself as completely straight, yes.
*** Recurring theme, hmm?
**** HAH!! No booze for at least 48 hours! No excuse!
shewho: (big bug)
[Scroll down, scroll down; the important bits are at the bottom!]

***

They’ve been digging up our street and the streets around it for months now. Waterworks, I think. Bl00dy waterworks, I growl, early Saturday mornings when the hammering and breaking up of the surface they’ve only just put down starts again.

But every now and then in the morning on the way to work I’ll notice the colourful squiggles and codes and markings on the pavement and it makes me smile. The dots and the pipes and the symbols in cheery bright yellows and blues and pinks marking out the phone lines, cable lines, and other things I can’t manage to decode. It reminds me of going to school to find the games newly painted in the playground, so you could actually *see* the hopscotch grid again, and follow the footprints to the treasure.

Little things.

I remember a boy at infant school called Miles something or other. I want to say Davis but that’s not right. Obviously. He loved the painted lines. A little too much. Every playtime he’d walk along the double yellow lines edging the netball court, one foot on each. Round and round and round. Sometimes, at the end of break, a teacher would have to gently coax him off the lines and back into school. He’d make a fuss and cry. He thought he was a robot. Those were *his* lines, it was his job to walk along them.

I sometimes wonder what happened to Miles and his bowl cut and his robotics.

***

….and speaking of possible mental illness (worst segue EVER!) we watched The Devil and Daniel Johnston last night. It is an excellent film, but makes for very difficult watching. It is certainly not a Top Date Movie.

I’ve never really been hugely into his music, although I know bits and bobs. (One of the major benefits of a shared iPod you only listen to on shuffle! p_dan_tic has acquired a taste for Steinman, I’ve acquired a taste for Drugstore. Hmmmm.) I did, however, like his drawings and paintings when I saw them at some anti-folk exhibition at The Spitz. I wish I’d seen this film first, it’d make more sense.

It felt wrong and voyeuristic seeing actual footage of his actual breakdown, and there were times I could only stare, mouth open, at the telly. Powerful stuff. It did get me thinking a bit though. He’s there, at this concerts, sermonising and preaching in between songs, scenesters are applauding and screaming. Is this helpful? Does it make his delusions worse? Make him more likely to come of his tablets? Maybe it is helpful, makes him feel he isn’t so alone. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m even forming the questions that are in my head properly, never mind asking the right ones.

I couldn’t sleep properly last night again, this may have had something to do with it.

***

Bad Things
  • Stupid Viacom have pulled out of whatever deal they had with MBNA, meaning my Star Trek card will no longer be a Star Trek card. I hadn’t even spent enough to get to TNG level! I don’t want to be stuck with a TOS themed card! Rubbish!

  • Stupid First Direct should not send out banking text messages at 6.45am. Seriously. Ow.


  • A Can You Help Me Thing
    I’m taking my mother to the ballet on Thursday. I can’t seem to find my tickets. This is a worry. If you were a ticket to the ballet, where in my flat would YOU be hiding?
    If you’re right, you can take my mother to the ballet for me you win a kiss. On the cheek. Possibly.*

    P.S. My phone number is definitely back to the usual one now, hurrah! Ends 457.








    *All rights reserved.
    shewho: (big bug)
    [Scroll down, scroll down; the important bits are at the bottom!]

    ***

    They’ve been digging up our street and the streets around it for months now. Waterworks, I think. Bl00dy waterworks, I growl, early Saturday mornings when the hammering and breaking up of the surface they’ve only just put down starts again.

    But every now and then in the morning on the way to work I’ll notice the colourful squiggles and codes and markings on the pavement and it makes me smile. The dots and the pipes and the symbols in cheery bright yellows and blues and pinks marking out the phone lines, cable lines, and other things I can’t manage to decode. It reminds me of going to school to find the games newly painted in the playground, so you could actually *see* the hopscotch grid again, and follow the footprints to the treasure.

    Little things.

    I remember a boy at infant school called Miles something or other. I want to say Davis but that’s not right. Obviously. He loved the painted lines. A little too much. Every playtime he’d walk along the double yellow lines edging the netball court, one foot on each. Round and round and round. Sometimes, at the end of break, a teacher would have to gently coax him off the lines and back into school. He’d make a fuss and cry. He thought he was a robot. Those were *his* lines, it was his job to walk along them.

    I sometimes wonder what happened to Miles and his bowl cut and his robotics.

    ***

    ….and speaking of possible mental illness (worst segue EVER!) we watched The Devil and Daniel Johnston last night. It is an excellent film, but makes for very difficult watching. It is certainly not a Top Date Movie.

    I’ve never really been hugely into his music, although I know bits and bobs. (One of the major benefits of a shared iPod you only listen to on shuffle! p_dan_tic has acquired a taste for Steinman, I’ve acquired a taste for Drugstore. Hmmmm.) I did, however, like his drawings and paintings when I saw them at some anti-folk exhibition at The Spitz. I wish I’d seen this film first, it’d make more sense.

    It felt wrong and voyeuristic seeing actual footage of his actual breakdown, and there were times I could only stare, mouth open, at the telly. Powerful stuff. It did get me thinking a bit though. He’s there, at this concerts, sermonising and preaching in between songs, scenesters are applauding and screaming. Is this helpful? Does it make his delusions worse? Make him more likely to come of his tablets? Maybe it is helpful, makes him feel he isn’t so alone. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m even forming the questions that are in my head properly, never mind asking the right ones.

    I couldn’t sleep properly last night again, this may have had something to do with it.

    ***

    Bad Things
  • Stupid Viacom have pulled out of whatever deal they had with MBNA, meaning my Star Trek card will no longer be a Star Trek card. I hadn’t even spent enough to get to TNG level! I don’t want to be stuck with a TOS themed card! Rubbish!

  • Stupid First Direct should not send out banking text messages at 6.45am. Seriously. Ow.


  • A Can You Help Me Thing
    I’m taking my mother to the ballet on Thursday. I can’t seem to find my tickets. This is a worry. If you were a ticket to the ballet, where in my flat would YOU be hiding?
    If you’re right, you can take my mother to the ballet for me you win a kiss. On the cheek. Possibly.*

    P.S. My phone number is definitely back to the usual one now, hurrah! Ends 457.








    *All rights reserved.

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