News Quiz!

Oct. 30th, 2006 10:00 pm
slemslempike: (hignfy: sandi toksvig)
After a train ride in which I tried my hardest to work and got through a chapter about something I understand very little of, but of which now have a dilligent set of notes, I walked across to Russell Square to meet Cee. On our way back to find coffee (a rare treat for us denizens of the backward North, I tell you) we were given two mini samples of deoderant. I don't think they were singling us out, but they were very useful in any case. I made the rookie mistake of hot chocolate and chocolate cake, but luckily Cee was able to balance it out. She has promised not to like Booker. I can't imagine it will be a difficult promise to keep, but then people are rather strange. Someone has commented to my JUMP! vid on youtube with the username SamaraBookerFan.

The News Quiz! )

All in all, it is one of the best things I've ever been to see, and just brilliant. You can still hear it until Saturday through listen again. I'm so grateful to [ profile] lsugaralmond for coming with me you can't imagine. She was also terribly kind and gave me not only a bed for the night, but Humphrey Lyttleton's autobiography, which is BRILLIANT. As is she. If I got to the News Quiz again, and I definitely want to, she is top of the list for companions. And I now know what time to queue from!
slemslempike: (m&c: reading)
Yesterday I spent an awful lot of time on trains. This was entirely worth it, as I got to see [ profile] glitterboy1 and [ profile] felinitykat. First of all I went to Cambridge for lunch, in a lovely church where we've been before. I had soup and a scone. With cream and jam. Then I dived into The Haunted Bookshop as I had nearly finished my book, and felt that to rely on the last half not being gripping enough that I would race through it was to tempt fate in an abominable manner. So I got Juliet and the Chalet School, which I raced through on the Peterborough/London leg, and enjoyed very much. I always somehow forget that I like the Tyrol books so much, and Caroline German writes great fill-ins.

In London I went to meet [ profile] felinitykat in Waterstones Picadilly. I was early, and spent some time wandering around peering into people's faces in case I'd missed Kat, and then retired to the coffee shop so I could put my glasses on and actually recognise her. But we did meet successfully, and retired to the bar and food place upstairs which was really lovely, if somewhat reluctant to serve us. I had lamb tagine which was absolutely delicious. I was sad to leave, but had to hurry to get to the last train before an hour long gap. I made it in plenty of time, actually, and got another book in case Juliet ran out.

I bought Candide, the introduction to which has the nicest spoiler warning ever: New readers are advised that this introduction makes the detail of the plot explicit. I started it on the train, and became conscious that it could look immensely pretentious, and decided to embrace this, staring thoughtfully out of the window while holding the cover at such an angle that people could see that I was thinking Proper Thoughts and not just being gormless. There was a sticker on the front that I went to peel off because it gives the impression that you've just bought it and it's not actually a revisited treasure. Then I noticed that the sticker was "new translation", which was even better. Clearly I was reading it to compare this new translation to an older, better loved translation, and possibly even both translations to the original manuscript and the amended later edition. Similtaneously. I can't help thinking, though, that this would have been better carried off if I had any idea about philosophy and didn't have to keep flipping to the notes at the back. Quite good though.

I also passed the time by wondering what I would do if the train derailed, and imagining various scenarios in which I could be hailed as a hero after saving countless lives. I had to get this up after meeting two insurmountable obstacles.

1) I couldn't work out what kind of injury I could have that would be really impressive in a finishing the lacrosse match with a sprained ankle type way, but wouldn't actually hurt to such an extent that I wouldn't be able to pick people up and carry them to the door to be framed in the blackened doorway by the waiting news cameras.

2) What to say when being feted? It's all very well being modest, but really I have just been brilliant, risking my own life to save small children and the elderly, minimising the devastation of this tragey. But it's so hard to get that across without seeming big headed.

So all in all it's just as well that the trains were almost entirely uneventful.

Today I absolutely must finish my panel work because it's the deadline for it to be emailed to the panel chair, and sadly only one of the pieces is actually ready to go. One is nearly ready but still a bit rubbish in places, and the last piece isn't actually started. I should probably get a move on then.
slemslempike: (red dwarf: temporary genius)
I was reading again as I usually do before the film starts, and I was tapped on the shoulder. Wheeling round somewhat dazed, I was confronted with not only my supervisor, but another rather scary person from the department. Erk. I tried to look intelligent, interesting and alert, but suspect that this is the kind of thing that's never really successful when you're trying it deliberately. Then we had to chat briefly, and it was that terribly awkward thing of not knowing if it was meant to continue until the film started, or if there would be a natural break, or should I just break off mid-sentence and resume reading. In the end I carried it on a little bit too long and had to return to my book rather flustered.

As they were right behind me, I was very consious of my behaviour. I don't think I'm generally a bad cinema-goer, but I was worried that I might develop awful tics and start waving my hands in the air, talking loudly to the person next to me or singing along. I managed to control myself, but drinking from my water bottle posed a problem, as I suddenly felt I should do it unobtrusively, and forgot how to drink properly and ended up slightly spraying water from the bottle top over myself and, I think, the person next to me. Only a little bit, but I fancy that the droplets caught the light of the projector in an almost magical manner.

Anyway, the film. )

Today I have mostly been watching Time Trumpet, which is just outstanding. Even if it didn't have Stewart Lee it would still be excellent, but the fact that he is there is very lovely indeed. He's just so him. I particularly like the Dragons' Den clips, though mstly I don't get them because I don't watch it. There was one bit where an entrepreneur told Rachel Elnaugh to stop talking because he was speaking to the men.

When not watching this, I locked myself out of the house with a large amount of shopping, with a large amount of meat that needed the frisge quite desperately. Since this was the middle of the day, I walked over to [ profile] alicamel's nursery to ask for her key. First though, I had to wait until the taxi driver drove off so he didn't know that I couldn't get in the front door. I don't know why this was important, but he frustrated me by sitting and fiddling with his meter, so I pretended that I had just that second received a scintillating text that required my instant and dedicated attention until he finally went. Then I put all my shopping in the shed (and I've just remembered I left the washing up liquid on a shelf), locked it so that no-one would steal my steal of a bargain of a pork joint, and walked off to find Alice. It was in a bit of Lancaster I had never been to before, which is very pretty. I found it thanks to a kind man's directions, and then realised that it probably wasn't a good idea to just stroll in, as they tend to discourage that sort of access in childcare. I was ostentatiously tentative, so that they would see I wasn't trying anything, and found someone in an office.
slemslempike: (games: escape yay)
1) Peet did NOT see Craig David on a tube. It was merely a man with a musical instrument in a suitcase.

2) I did not see Rob Brydon at the Royal Court. He was, however, at the Royal Court, and was seen by several of our party, just not me. He did not appear to be at the performance, however, "I was at the Royal Court with Rob Brydon" is practically true.

3) Rufus Sewell is utterly gorgeous, and giggly and happy.
slemslempike: (nemi: Angry Pike)
I got the 16.10 from Euston, changing at Manchester because it was a cheaper fare. I am never doing that again. Frugality is downright dangerous, the only way is to splash out and waste money frivolously.

It started so well. )

Detour to Warrington )

Fire. I will track them down and do a Mrs Bertie. )


Coaches. )

To Liverpool! No, Manchester! No, Liverpool! )

To Preston! Would there be coaches? Find out... )

I already have the complaint form, so I can do that tomorrow along with the MONSTER housing benefit form I have to fill in to confirm everything I've already told them.
slemslempike: (hignfy: merton pride)
It was the launch of Lancaster Pride today. It's the first one they've ever had, and people were kind of worried that there wouldn't be very many people, so despite my awful cold and cough and general malaise, I went to the march for 6pm. I made sure to inform people just how sacrificing I was being, and they were very pleased. That's how proud I am. There were probably more than 50 people there (I'm bad at counting), which isn't too bad for a cold, damp, dark December in Lancaster. Lots more women than men. We were marching from the covered shopping bit to the town hall, which on a direct route is far less than five minutes. So we meandered round town a bit and then ended up outside, where we got to be a proper march and have the police escort stop cars for us. There weren't many people there to witness our march, except two teenage types who muttered jeers until one of the flag wavers went and waved the rainbow at them and they fled in fear. There were also other teenage types who were standing on a corner mooching moodily, and waved to one of the organisers and asked how it was going.

They made me carry a stick. They were handing out lanterns to carry on the ends of sticks, and I didn't want one really, so I just skulked. Then when we were setting off a woman asked if I had a spare hand, and then she gave me a stick. Just a stick. It had a little hook on the end, but it was a stick. And it looked just as if I couldn't be trusted with fire, but had made a fuss, so they gave me the stick to try and shut me up. It was very sad. But then Sarah let me carry her lantern towards the end, and I totally didn't drop it or set anyone else on fire or anything. I'm glad I went, and it was pretty good, so that's nice.

When we got to the town hall there were more, so maybe 100 in the hall. There were paper tablecloths and crayons so we could draw gay pictures. There was Indian food, free, which was very nice indeed. And curly fries. I left pretty early, because I wanted to get home and watch Have I got News for You and snot to myself in peace. I missed Peter Tatchell speaking, but I did see him sitting down at a table. Ooh.

Fall back

Oct. 31st, 2004 05:41 pm
slemslempike: (Default)
This time of year always makes make me think about the night I lost my virginity. Because it was the night the clocks went back. My parents were away (which is how I came to have sex) so no-one changed the time in my house, and I arrived at work an hour early, meaning I left bed an hour early, which annoyed me all day.

We broke the bed. Well, he did. In the morning he got up to get me breakfast (awww) and I took the opportunity to spread out and grab all the covers. So he came back and jumped on me, breaking the frame of the bed, rather killing the mood. I was blase about it, but he was convinced that my parents would return, think that the bed had been broken while he was deflowering me, and turn up on his doorstep with pitchforks. So he mended it with duct tape. I did point out that my parents would notice the addition of thick black tape to the wooden frame, but he insisted. Wasn't even broken during a fun part.

Not that it was a great deal of fun. It wasn't painful or anything, but the most telling moment is just after, when he said to me "you looked bored". I don't think I was bored exactly. A little underwhelmed, perhaps, and contemplative. "So, this is sex. Huh. What should I be doing? Am I moving enough? Too much?" and trying not to show my thoughts in my face apparently led to me looking bored. This is why I dislike the missionary position, I have more than enough to think about without worrying about the message my facial contortions convey. From behind, thank you, and then I can gurn away to my heart's content.

It was a strange relationship. We'd actually been talking about sex earlier that day, and he'd asked if I felt pressured. I said no, but I would rather wait a little. At the time I meant more than a few hours, but I was pretty happy that it turned out that way. I absolutely adored him, but I was very conscious that to let him know this would be counter-productive, so I tended not to tell him anything about how I felt. Clever, no? Anyway, the 'relationship' lasted about a week or so after the sex, and a month or so after that he stopped talking to me. Flat out ignored me if we ever bumped into each other. And I found out a while later that a few days after we slept together he told my best friend he was in love with her. Brilliant!

I remember that he gave great massages, and was very intense and pseudo-anarchist in the way that seventeen year olds are. He played guitar, and introduced me to Sonic Youth, L7 and Dinosaur Jr, for which I will be forever grateful. I occasionally wish that I would meet him again. He broke my heart completely, but I would like him to know that I got a bit better at sex.


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