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Wednesday, December 2nd, 2009
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11:59 pm - I need to reawaken my skills.
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What happened to the Maboo who wrote all those deep, meaningful and beautiful poems that gave me cold chills when I was looking through my memories?
Of all the things I've lost over time, after the dear friends that are gone, I think I miss my creative writing skills the most.
current mood:  pensive
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12:28 am - Didn't I just say the 65 bus route stunk?
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This article is absolutely right. Much as I love London buses, the 65 route - which is pretty much the only one on its route (where I am), so there is no ability to use other buses - is hands down the absolute worst service in London.
It cannot be blamed on roadworks alone. I have stood at a bus stop at the Ealing/Brentford border in the freezing cold, dark night, and watched NINE 65 buses go past down the other route. I have waited for a hour sometimes, and none of the nine buses have deigned or bothered to oome the other way until at least a hour has passed. There are no roadworks between my bus stop and Ealing Broadway. Where do all those buses go and what holds them up? Surely there must be a bus backlog somewhere in Ealing? Then of course, once a bus has turned up, it then gets caught between two or three other 65 buses, which is stupidity itself, because none of the buses is remotely full. So of course there's a near-jam and a crawl of buses and you may as well have walked - if not for the fact that it's a long walk between Ealing and Kingston, where I normally take the 65 bus to. It's gotten so bad that I usually just get off at Richmond and get the train.
But yes. Nice to have confirmation that one - as one has suspected for quite some time - lives on the worst bus route in London.
current mood:  vindicated
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| Wednesday, November 25th, 2009
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2:16 am - Blyton Spirit
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I have to say, I was very impressed by the BBC4 dramatisation of Enid Blyton's life recently aired, starring Helena Bonham Carter. Mainly because it was such a strong story, and so interesting, and the acting was excellent. Matthew MacFadyen is kind of becoming typecast in "lousy husband" roles though. But as a portrayal of self delusion, it was damn good.
It has had me musing though. I'm not going to try and apologise for Blyton - many have already laid out the evidence why she was a frightful racist, sexist, middle-class, blinkered poster-child-for-the-BNP type. Just like an awful lot of other people of her type and generation, then. The thing is, I cannot blame someone simply because they have said things that are thoroughly worrying, not to say contemptible, to the modern ear. Practically any writer is going to have said things that aren't going to date well. Critics have picked up on all these things - and let's be fair, it certainly hasn't been a difficult task to find damning "evidence".
( Daniel and La Enid )
current mood:  thoughtful
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| Saturday, November 14th, 2009
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3:23 am - What DOES the Z stand for in "ZOMG" anyway?
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After all that "ZOMG IT'S GONNA RAAAAAAAAAAIN AND BLOW!" forecastage I caught earlier, it was all rather disappointingly damp. Some nice blusteriness and blowsiness, but hardly Gale Force Winds, and the bit of rain I did see was more like a handful of flicked droplets than torrential downpour. Not that it's a bad thing that it wasn't worse weather, and I suppose tomorrow is when it's supposed to really turn nasty. I expect it's absolutely whomping down in Reading, as per usual.
I have just finished a novel by Christopher Fowler called "Disturbia" - his first non Bryant and May novel that I'd picked up. While Fowler's pretty much known as a horror writer, I only really knew him from some of his short stories and also from the Bryant and May novels (absolutely fantastic whodunnits, quite unlike anything else in the genre that I can think of offhand. I have yet to pick up The Victoria Vanishes.) which won't surprise anyone who knows me well. Christopher Fowler is quite possibly one of the best writers about London alive today - he has such passion, knowledge and a very palpable love for the city and all its minutae, the people, the environment. His vision of London is both marvellous and most, most terrible. I let loose a whoop of delight when I discovered he'd written the gigantic elephant and castle statue (the one that you pass as you head into Vauxhall via the landline train from Richmond) into his narrative - I had noticed that statue, it's bizarre because you only really see it properly if you're looking out of the train window and are near to that side of the railway tracks, and to find it actually playing a key part in the book was like meeting an old friend. Fowler really does write for those who absolutely love the history and idiosyncracies of London. And it was a bit of a surprise when Arthur Bryant (and his pockets of cats) wandered into the story halfway through, but a nice one.
This isn't so much a review as a cuber-nod towards a kindred spirit, a post to say how much I admire this writer and how much I love his work. And also a comment on the sheer unsuitablity of the cover, with its topless and rather buff young Spartacus cover-boy running away from a blurry Houses of Parliament. Completely cheesy, with promises of "Gay Fiction" (totally unsuitably so, as there isn't anything Gayfic about the book apart from its out-and-proud writer.) and truth be told, kind of boring. But kitsch, almost (but not quite) forgivably kitsch.
And before this post, I popped out in the rain to post something so tomorrow's post would pick it up. The street, which is so busy throughout the day, was nearly abandoned, except for the night buses. I love those night buses (in fact I love London buses in general, except when the 65 from Ealing is taking over a hour to show up and I'm getting cold and wet...) and could probably quite happily ride around London in them, back and forth, all night, just looking out of the window at the night-time capital. London without buses is quite inconceivable.
current mood:  relaxed
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| Friday, November 13th, 2009
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8:21 pm - Ooh, It's horrible out there.
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Wet and windy. But I have to go out there. For one thing, I have a Dragon's lair to go to. For another, there is no food, and both these things are very important thingses.
I don't mind wet and windy, it must be said, but I do mind any aftermath that might ensue from a severe blow-wetting. At least I've had the cold (the one that goes oink) during the summer so whatever happens, it won't be THAT. Though my umbrella did a Marie Antoinette on me a few weeks ago, and I have fallen back on using this dinky little cafe-table-size one that folds up to mobile-phone-size. If it's as windy as the forecast suggested, it'll not last long, but ah well...
I always feel a bit silly with it up though. Kind of like there's a great big chunk of Arizonan canyon about to fall on my head. (Beep beep!) Anyway, best be off.
current mood:  about to be blow-wetted
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| Wednesday, November 11th, 2009
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2:42 am - Feeling a bit Lazarus.
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August was my 30th birthday. 30 years ago, I was born, and with me came a little bonus. A rare syndrome. A syndrome to which I owe my deafness, but also something worse. A rather nasty time-bomb that could have gone off at any moment, that had laid dormant for nearly all my life, and then went off for the first time in, probably 27-28 years.
( It was barely a week after my birthday that I died. )
current mood: alive
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| Wednesday, April 15th, 2009
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11:57 pm - Tread softly, for you may tread upon my memories. Quite literally.
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I lost one of my notepads today. I feel like I've lost a week of my life. Let me explain for those of you who may be unsure why it's such a big deal - my notepads are my quirk, I have always carried a notepad (and almost always a spare) on me 24/7 since before I turned 17. Due to my deafness, I hold a lot of conversations on paper, and I essentially have an almost-complete record of the last 13-odd years in my notepads.
Today I lost a nearly complete notepad in the streets of London. Oh yes, I know which street, I've been back and looked for it, and no joy. And what makes it all the more spooky/weird is that 10 years ago, I lost another notepad in EXACTLY the same street/area of London - and it's not a street I go down that often. Anyway. Yes. The worst thing is not knowing what's happened to it - whether it was destroyed or not, whether someone threw it in a bin, or whether a complete stranger has a record of my conversations for the last week or so - including really personal chats with the Dragon. That is, if they can read the handwriting.
Oh well. I guess I've only lost maybe 3 pads in 13 years, that's not bad going, but I still feel like a complete stranger is eavesdropping on my conversations of the last week. I hate that - it's creepy enough when friends flick back through the pad, I had one ex who used to open my pads at random and then point out triumphantly the MOST random sentences and act like they'd just discovered really dirty details. And some of those pads are dynamite - I have a lot of emotions and memories locked up in them, including a really strong record of the years 2000-2002 that I am not feeling yet mentally strong enough to go back and look at, bad memories. But I keep them because one day I will want to revisit, and I will rediscover great things, great friendships. Conversations with the deceased (sadly, I never met Selena in person, so she is not among those preserved in this way), who I can revisit anytime I like.
So yes. Very personal things, my pads, and I'm upset I've lost one, but at the same time, ambivalent. So on the extreme off-chance that anyone picked up a WH Smiths reporter's 160-sheet notepad full of writing in about 10 different hands while around Soho/Chinatown, near the Curzon cinema, at about 5.45-6.00pm on Wednesday 15th March 2009 and is Googling it or trying to track down the owner... just think that you hold five days of my life in your hands, and treat it with the respect that deserves. That is all I hope for.
(and Happy Birthday, Dragon. Sorry I wasn't in better spirits for your special day, but I know you understand perfectly.)
current mood:  concerned
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| Monday, April 6th, 2009
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9:11 pm - In Sickness and With Kittens
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My track record for going without throwing up (at least 17 years) was pretty comprehensively destroyed on Sunday evening. Ergh. I'm OK now, although had one heck of a horrible night with non-stop hallucinations about Stephen Jones hats. On Hydra-like hatstands with a mind of their own, it was like being chased around by the V&A's Hats: An Anthology exhibition only with bigger, scarier and more demented hats. At least they were kind of interesting hallucinations. The Dragon got the bug too, worse than I did, but we're both rallying now and feeling much better now.
It was a very flip-flop weekend, it has to be said - with this extreme low balanced out by two extreme highs of absolute glee.
( Two week old kittens! Yay! )
current mood:  queasy
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| Thursday, April 2nd, 2009
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9:55 am - Note to the world: I exist!
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Another note to the world: Yes, I do realise how long it's been. And how long it's been before that. I don't even want to think about how much catching up I will have to do. The days are lighter, the evenings are brighter, the mood's definitely co-ordinating, and I'm feeling somewhat more sociable again. Anyway, best get back to work now pronto - it's my last full day in my secondment department, back to Furniture, Textiles and Fashion from Monday. I've kind of been suffering withdrawal symptoms, lovely and marvellous though it's been in the Middle East Section. Anyway. Ho hum, Maboo I am, (there's a blast from the past), it's back to work I go!
current mood:  chipper
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| Wednesday, January 7th, 2009
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6:16 pm - Last updated 17 weeks ago? That is quite probably a record... and not a good one.
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Anyway, Happy New Year, everyone, if you're still reading.
Things are good. Yes. (just working it out, egads - that's FOUR months and a week. Crikey. FOUR MONTHS...
When I last updated this, I wasn't a honorary uncle to the Dragon's new twin nephew and niece, they weren't born yet. And now they're all growing up and developing personalities and being adorable and those things babies tend to do. *grins* So yeah. Things have been happenin' over here. And I should update more often, shouldn't I?
Mind you, a 17 week gap. Almost anything is going to be me updating more often than THAT.
current mood:  cold
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| Tuesday, September 9th, 2008
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1:00 am - Hmmmm. *raises eyebrow at computer*
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I don't know how you managed to do this, and I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, but what on earth is something I did YEARS ago, LONG before I got you, doing lurking in the folders there? Not that I'm complaining, because it's lovely to see it again, and I thought it was probably lost, but... How long ago was that whole Anti-Joyce art thing again? Seven years? Eight? And what exactly was one of my AntiJoyces doing on THIS computer, of all computers? It's barely 3 years old!
I swear, I'll never understand machines....!
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| Saturday, August 2nd, 2008
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5:43 pm - Three years later, 7/7 eventually reaches out and touches me...
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I had a big shock last night. I was sitting watching the news, they were talking about the memorial for the victims of 7/7 (when London was attacked by suicide bombers) and suddenly up came a picture of someone I knew back when I was at University.
"That looked like Dirty Jen!" I gasped - and THEN they said it was Jenny Nicholson, and I was even more knocked for six. And then I looked her up online, and it DEFINITELY was the same person. Jen wasn't really a friend of mine, but she was a BIG personality around my Hall of Residence, one of those larger than life, indefagitable, very loud people with a raucuous sense of humour and pretty good hearted. And unforgettable. Totally unforgettable - every time I would think about my student life, I would always think about "Dirty Jen" as one of the people from those days. She even slightly inspired one of the more popular secondary characters in my webcomic, "Randy Mandy" (who wasn't literally randy, but just called Miranda Mansell...), although Randy Mandy was a hybrid of several characters I knew from Hall.
Anyway. Jenny was right next to one of the suicide bombers. She was one of the 52 victims that died in the attack, and this was the first time I had learned this. It has knocked me for six - the enduring memory I have of Jen, apart from her charging about the Halls of Residence getting involved in all the student hijinks and laughing dirtily at everything, is of her leading a standing ovation after I'd done a karaoke cover of "Lilli Marlene" one party night in the Hall bar. (poor, poor audience. I must have sounded AWFUL, but at least they could tell what I was "singing" to...) This shows what a really good person she was, because most people would probably have clapped embarrassedly, but she was right up there, shouting and cheering and going "GOOD FOR YOU!".
It was so surreal to find out like that - via BBC News - to see someone who passed through your life like that, and to find out that they died in such an awful way, just over three years ago... especially such a strong, seemingly permanent personality as Jenny. Here's a lovely memorial page about her in one of the broadsheets:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/attackonlondon/tributes/page/0,,1527791,00.html
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| Thursday, July 31st, 2008
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11:41 pm - When it's really hot my body does weird things.
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During that mega heatwave last weekend, particularly on Monday, I sat there doing nothing, and literally watched my arms come up all blotchy and red and strawberry-rashy from the sheer heat of the air. Not nice. Thank goodness for fans. And absolutely no love whatsoever for high summer.
Like the Doctor, I never feel myself without at least a couple of layers going on. For me, the Doctor's authority depends so much on his suits, his coats, his scarves and hats. Strip him down, and he loses a lot of his Doctorliness. And I am the same. The Maboo does not feel like the Maboo with only a shirt/trousers on. He depends on his layers, and hates it when the weather won't allow him to layer. The fact that he cannot tolerate heat is cruel irony.
And then when the temperature plummeted, my spirits shot up. Way up. Who needs anti-depressants when all it takes is the mercury going down just a bit? It's funny old weather, though. In this kind of summer weather, when it's cooler, mentally I am like a Matisse/Jules Feiffer dancer, all crazy contortions and swivelling limbs and barely-humanly-possible poses. But only mentally. It's funny though, I probably don't have much sense of rhythm/co-ordination, and yet inside this here brain is a painterly dancer.
I saw ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) notdan earlier this month, which was pretty good. It's not often that we meet nowadays, and it was a nice night out mid-week. Just pure luck that I had booked several days off that week, and that the annual leave coincided with his visit. Certainly couldn't have done that during a normal working week! And Trafalgar Square IS very attractive in the early morning, just as the sun is rising, with barely anyone about. Well, "barely" is comparatively speaking by London standards. Didn't get in until 5.30, which is definitely not something I'd care to repeat anytime soon, no matter how nice the company was. But it was a fun one-off.
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| Monday, June 30th, 2008
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10:16 pm - Silence for three weeks?
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THREE WEEKS?
Three weeks?!
How did THAT happen?? *quietly boggles at the propensity of time to go SURGING by* Seems like only yesterday I was apologising for my long absence.
Anyway. Yes. In the last three weeks, I have lost my mobile phone and replaced it. If you have my number, and haven't already, buzz me so I can re-add you. It's not fun losing your phone when you're deaf. In fact, it's probably the deaf equivalent of having your hands chopped off and your tongue cut out, so it's not nice. Then there's that odd, Sod's Law way in which replacement phones always have at least two buttons/commands on alternative sides, and they're ones you use all the time. Like the Space key. Mind you, I like the new phone. It's lightweight and spiffy and nifty, and it doesn't flip open when I bump into things or move suddenly. And it has a proper belt loop on the case, so it doesn't drop off randomly. Which is how the old phone got lost in the first place. Was always going to happen that way, sooner or later - either that, or one day it was gonna break. Was a good phone though. It lasted me three years.
Three years?
THREE YEARS!
(I really have to resist the urge for such stylistic tricks - who do I think I am, Kate Atkinson?)
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| Monday, June 9th, 2008
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12:55 am - This makes me happy.
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A nice thing to discover while doing a random Google. As you may remember, I've had a yen for Allott for over 10 years now, since encountering "Aunt Sally Speaks" randomly during GCSE exam papers. Now he has a Wikipedia bio.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenneth_Allott
And there's a new edition of Collected Poems that's coming out. AND they've found a bunch of his unpublished poems that weren't known to exist at the time of the last collection's compilation back in the '70s. So yes, I'm terribly happy. In my own little obscure-geek-love happy way.
http://www.saltpublishing.com/books/smp/9781844714889.htm
current mood: geeky
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| Wednesday, January 9th, 2008
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10:55 pm - Happy New Year, all!
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Belated, I know, but... that's not a bad thing. Is it? Been back at work for a week now, with the weekend in between. Quite reflective at present. Thoughtful, although not quite sure about what. Finally saw the last episode of Vicar of Dibley, so now I know there REALLY were Daleks in it and I wasn't having my head messed with by weird rumours.
Now I want Dalek bridesmaids. Just while I'm in post "SQUEE! Dalek Bridesmaids!" mode, it'll wear off soon and I'll be rational once again.
I'm generally happy, and 2008 will be good, I'm sure. :) Just tired and looks like I'm gonna be REALLY BUSY for a couple weeks. Including a RUNAROUND day a week tomorrow, which is going to seem like something from a slapstick comedy if I describe the diary. It'll work out though.
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| Saturday, December 29th, 2007
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12:28 am - I hope everyone has had a wonderful seasonal celebration of choice.
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My Christmas was fantastic, spent with the Dragon's family, and I can only describe it as a really warm, marvellous family Christmas, slightly marred by the fact that the Dragon and his Pater were both down with some kind of lurgy. But it was rather a lovely day...
At the moment I'm not sure I fancy doing anything for New Year's Eve, but that's the effect of the weird limbo there is between Christmas and New Year speaking.
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| Friday, December 21st, 2007
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12:52 am - A New Year's Resolution in Advance.
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I swear that as the Great Deity Overhead is my witness, my New Year's Resolution for 2008 is going to be to socialise more. To meet with friends and make time to go out with mates and make time to catch up with people in person.
It's a damn good resolution too, so I'm making it in advance NOW. I need to start arranging things and making time to meet with people.
I've sucked too hard and too long at this socialising thing, and really, it's beyond a joke. You'd think that now I was in London, I'd be making time to meeting all the people here I know, and I haven't been. Which is too bad.
So this is a pledge that from now on, that is going to change!
current mood:  determined
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| Thursday, November 8th, 2007
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9:01 pm - LJ email - anyone else having problems?
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It seems that I'm not receiving all the email sent via my Livejournal email forwarding address - which really is quite tiresome as it's the main reason I continue to pay LJ. Anyone else having this same issue?
current mood:  concerned
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| Friday, October 19th, 2007
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2:17 am - EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW.....
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Dialogue seen today. A classless, trashy person had already shared several gross-out stories including how exactly they induced labour. (in repulsive detail) and decided to tell us about how their 10 year old son walked in from the next room just as she'd had her 3rd baby, and the afterbirth was "plopped by the nurse on the table". And apparently the fact the poor kid yelled "OH MY GOD is THAT the baby???" was a cute kiddie story to tell.
OK - several people immediately go "Oh UGH! TMI! TMI! TMI!" Classless person gets all shirty because they can't see why it's TMI (allegedly) and starts accusing people of having no sense of humour.
Then yours truly interjects with...
( Warning! Horrible Pun Ahead! )
current mood:  punny
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