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March 12th, 2007

The One That's Not Really Monday Morning

The links and adverts on Gmail are generally not very intrusive.  At worst they are slightly irritating and at best they are absolutely hilarious at their attempts to link to things you might be interested in based on the words in your emails being scanned by a computer programme that doesn't speak English.  (Although it worries me a little just how often I get offered a link to a site called - surely I must occasionally find other things to talk about?)

Today, however, threw up a quote I liked and thought I'd share:

Aldous Huxley - "Dream in a pragmatic way."

Sounds like excellent advice to me.  I'm off to do just that in the sunshine now.


The One With The Last Few Days

Right, where to start with the weekend. Oh, at the beginning I suppose, in time-honoured bullet-pointed fashion.
  • Friday I had my appraisal at work, which was better than I expected. The plan for the next year seems to be that I develop a more technical role, and take on responsibility for developing our Direct Debit programme, testing a new version of our ticketing software, and looking after our general database maintenence. Sounds good, although probably not good enough to stop me looking for something else. I had a long chat with SCG over lunch on Friday and he said some things that really hit home with me, one of them being that he saw a lot more potential in me than I currently seem to be seeing in myself. The truth is, I think I stopped seeing that potential some time ago, and now I desperately want it back, and want to do something more... special with my life than Box Office managing. But we'll see.

  • Saturday me and the flatmate had a nice domestic flatmately morning cleaning the house up a bit and sorting out our joint finances. Saturday evening we went to her Dad's 50th birthday party, which was held in a pub in a village called Orsett that apparently serves the best food in Essex. It was good food, but very heavy, and good wine, but with waitresses who topped up your glass before you realised it was empty so I drank more than I realised I was drinking. Chatting to her sister and her boyfriend on the way home we found out that apparently her Dad referred to me the whole evening as "the girl Katrina lives with" so now her whole extended family thinks we're a couple. Then again, as I've said many times before, apart from the conjugal rights we might as well be.

  • Sunday morning I woke up with a hangover and staggered out to take my little sister for lunch and to the cinema. When I got to Waterloo it was packed and I idly wondered what was going on. I worked it out when I found my Richmond-bound train crammed full of big men in rugby shirts and either comedy wigs or berets. England v France in the Six Nations at Twickenham of course. I was cheek to cheek between an Englishman and a Frenchman for the entire 20 minute journey (not an entirely unpleasant experience), and then had to squeeze my way off the train at Richmond in an astounding display of agility. As I fell out of the open doors I turned back to thank those who had aided my progress (they were such a jolly bunch) and waved and said, "that was my first scrum!" They laughed. Oh the power to amuse.

  • Me and my sister went to see Norbit (her choice I hasten to add - it's awful, don't go, really) and then went back to her place where she showed me her myspace (so help me God) and we played on The Sims 2 for an hour or so. Having never played any kind of Sims game before I can sort of see the appeal now. We created a virtual me (although thinner obviously) and then made her a virtual boyfriend who was tall, dark, handsome and utterly smitten. He was called Adam for some reason - I think it's the name of the guy my sis fancies at school. He was better than all of the real men I know, I promise you.

  • On the way back to Waterloo I got similarly mobbed by now-drunk rugby fans (still a nice bunch though) and then while finally sauntering through the station bumped into one of my staff from work, the gorgeous Mike. Stood and chatted for a while and then his equally gorgeous boyfriend Vianni turned up and we got introduced and they spoke French to each other (Vianni is French) then I left them to it and they both gave me lots of cheek kisses and lovely words. There are some people in this world who make me feel lighter than air when I'm around them, and despite not knowing Mike out of work at all really, he is one of those people. Lovely chap.

  • Sunday evening Roseanne came round and me and her and Katrina sat in the living room and listened to Radio 1 count down the 20 best dance anthems of all time. We raved around the living room in raptures like it was ten years ago. Then the girls ate a Chinese takeaway and I ate some soup and cardboard (don't ask) and then we stuck Amnesty International's The Secret Policeman's Ball on and laughed ourselves silly at the Natalie Imbruglia sketch as we always do. I went to bed fairly early, I was knackered.

  • Today I woke up very early (I always do these days, it's a right pain) and went out to St James's to watch the evil ducks for a while and meet carakins</lj> for lunch. It was a beautifully sunny day and the park was packed. It was lovely to see her as always, but I probably wasn't on my best form, slowly filling with a creeping apathy and discontent that seems to flit from reason to reason without ever settling on one that is actually causing it. I thought it would lift this evening but it hasn't so far. Maybe tomorrow.

  • I did do one very productive and good thing today though. I wrote a whole chapter of a new book idea I've been tossing round my head for a while. Oh please can someone just pay me a reasonable amount of money to sit at a computer and tap away everything that's in my head?

The One With The Black Mood

Ooh I am in such a foul angry violent mood tonight, I am really spoiling for an argument.  I could do with a good fight (with hair pulling and face scratching) and then a good fuck.  Where are my unsuitable exes when I need them?

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