poison_penny

 Lately I've been musing on the future; specifically my future. I feel a bit dead-end-y. I completed my degree, got my first, did my MA, hated it, realised I shouldn't do a PhD...and for the past five months have been sitting at home, thinking. This said thinking has been interspersed by going out with friends, catching up on all the dvds and films and tv programmes I'd missed, wading through my to-read pile...but a lot of it has been me, at home, playing with my cat, and supposedly thinking. And supposedly looking and applying for jobs, though I'm hardly on the ball with that. I feel a little as if I'm waiting for something to happen, though in reality what that means is that I'm waiting for myself to happen in some way. The details of this happening are still a bit fuzzy.

I was pondering what I actually want from the future and realised that part of me wants a life that is secretly a little bit fabulous. A nice house, and a beautiful garden, and a kind, intelligent husband, who wears glasses and is a little eccentric, and a bevy of daughters, who will all be smart, resourceful and good. And when people meet them they'll say, 'Oh are you one of the (insert dream husband's last name here) girls?' And I'll spend my days writing not-very-good novels that I'll never send off to anyone and cataloguing my library, and sipping jasmine green tea and being a little like Flora Poste.

Of course I realised this some time after I could have paved a proper path to such a life, such as dilligently applying myself to some course of study which would have led to some well-paying job so I could afford this nice house. Though perhaps the two are mutually exclusive, and all the people who do live in nice houses, are too busy, and tired and stressed to waft around dreamily in the sunshine. 
And as I say all this I feel quite embarassingly middle class, wanting a life of ease and erudition without putting my nose to the grindstone.

Back to reality. Of sorts. ! just read a rather disappointing book, The Court of the Air by Stephen Hunt, which looks like an historical adventure set in Victorian London, but which is actually quite a complicated sci-fi/fantasy/steampunk novel instead. It's got lots of interesting ideas floating within it, but it dragged on for too long, and became quite tedious in places, till I was just urging the author to wrap it up just so I could put it down and never have to pick it up again. There was a lot to like, and I admired the complexity and detail of the world Hunt created...but it just didn't sustain my interest.

I have been going on extend charity-shopping binges, buying oodles of cheap books. I have a knack for finding books in charity shops that I want (and even have added things to my Amazon shopping basket, only to wait and find it the next day in Oxfam). I laughingly call it the Literary Psychic Network, it's as if I've accidentally logged on without realising it, because no matter how old or obscure the book, if I really want it, I manage to find it. Does this ever happen to anyone else? It seems if there is some sort of higher power, it has a literary bent.

Also I wish the writer's strike would end. I miss good tv.

..blerg. I have a cold, and I hate, hate, hate being ill. It's going, but through blowing my nose so much I've developed this sore bump on the underside of my nostrils thus now making it impossible to blow my nose without suffering an extreme amount of pain. Double blerg,

On to good news. I spent roughly three pounds in a charity shop and got the following. 
The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James- 50p
Exodus by Julie Bertagna- 50p
The Icarus Girl by Helen Oyeyemi- 50p
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold- 10p
The Athenian Murders by Jose Carlos Samoza- £1.20 (this I read about on at EvilAuntiePeril's blog and it seemed interesting enough to pick up. Also what are the chances of it turning up in my local Age Concern? One day I'll explain how weird literary coincidences follow me around, interesting in a 'even-though-i-know-statistically-it's-probably-probable-i-still-find-it-weird' way).

I baked this recipe per her request, for my mum's birthday today from the Guardian: Flour Power City's Apple and Almond tart which came out lovely, even though I didn't have enough eggs, or bramely apples. Though it is a recipe which relies on your own judgement, it doesn't specify how much sugar or cinnamon you should use to sweeten the apples, and even though through pure luck mine turned out just sweet enough, it could potentially turn out a little tart (which I'm not a huge fan of- i like my desserts sweet). The Konditor & Cook's Curly Whirrly cake looks AMAZING but seems more of an occasion cake  than everyday. I'll have to wait till it's someone else's birthday.

Finally I have yet to sing the praises of Pushing Daisies on here, so I shall do so now. It's brilliant. It's already possibly my favourite television show of all time (it's neck and neck with Arrested Development) even though only 8 episodes have been screened. I'm not too sure how well it's going to go over in Britain. It has a retro colour-saturated feel to its cinematography, a la Amelie or Big Fish, and a strange, odd, whimsical marriage of unapologetic romance, death and mayhem and a quick-fire screwball dialogue, with a sassy tinge. I know a friend who hates the Gilmore Girls principally because she finds the dialogue annoying- and admittedly Pushing Daisies can go down the, saying something in ten words when one will do, road. But nonetheless it's a joy to watch, and is one of the few programes that is not a straight-up comedy but can still make you laugh out loud. 

Talking of whimsical productions, it seems that Penelope has finally found a release date, February 8th next year. It once again has that pretty, colour-saturated cinematography, and also has James McAvoy playing ' An unrepentant gambler with a heavy heart and an ulterior motive'. To which I say, awesome. It might turn out saccharine, but I'm optimistic that it'll be sweet and pretty gorgeous to look at. 

Over and out xxx

I'm going to stay round my sister's for the weekend, and am really looking forward to it. The only downside is that I've had not time whatsoever to write something for NaNoWriMo. Yesterday I spent the morning helping my mum out as she was having a 'one-dish party' as Asians call it. Do other people have it too? Basically everyone brings one dish along. Does what it says on the tin. There was so much washing up to do after it was unbelievable. I did that, then did a whole lot of baking so I'd have cake and muffins to take to my sisters, and then only had time to watch the latest episode of Dexter before I fell asleep.

Hopefully this weekend I'll be able to write something by hand and then type it up- but as yet I have no freakin' clue what it's going to be about. Literally nada. 
Eep.

Oh and John Francis Daly, aka Sam Weir from Freaks and Geeks is starring in a new film called 5-25-77. Otherwise known as when the first Star Wars film came out.
And it looks charming, and I'm going to predict that he does a really good job in it. Trailer can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ihkni2Yc_no

I'm just not very lucky when it comes to ebay. I've been screwed over a number of times, even when the seller has 100% postive ratings. 

Now the postal strike has meant that a book I won that was posted on the 4th still hasn't arrived, but one that was posted on the 10th got here today. This does not bode well surely? Unless they're working through their backlog with earliest first. This isn't ebay's fault, but I really wanted the book (Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion)! Gah. Here's hoping it will get here eventually.

I read this story today and my word, is it freaky: The Life and Death of Jesse James by Josh Olson from LA Weekly. Josh Olson wrote the screenplay for A History of Violence, and the story itself is that type of freakiness which so obviously can and does happen, but is hard to believe when written down. 

I got my NaNoWriMo reminder email today (and it's the gosh-darnd cutest reminder email I've ever got).  I've already signed up, though Lord knows what I'm going to write about.

Got back from Dublin today. I had a great time, it's a lovely city. It makes me wish I'd put a lot more thought in to where I wanted to go and do my Masters, because Trinity is lovely, and I can just see myself living in Dublin, it has that sort of vibe...If only I was doing a PhD (and yet at the same time, I'm glad I'm not...). 

The only thing that marred the holiday slightly was the (surprise suprise) flighty airporty stuff. 
So, flight was 10:30 a.m., to get to Dublin at 12.
Time we got up 5:30. Time we left house, 7. Time we got to airport, 8:30.
Time we actually got to Dublin? 9:30 PM.

Basically our plane had a technical fault. There's no-one to blame for something like that, but they were incredibly unhelpful when it came to giving out info. Still, that didn't bother me so much as what happened when they told us our flight was not coming. They put us through a whole tonne of crap about duty-free, saying before we got ourselves re-booked on the next flight, we had to return it. This was a rule no-one had heard of. It seemed in fact that someone just made it up on the spot. 
After delaying us by an hour and putting us through security again, they then said casually, actually it was okay to keep the duty-free. By that time it was too late to get an earlier flight. Bastards. I had to take off my shoes three times that day. That's no joke when you're wearing tightly-laced converse high-tops (if i don't tie them up they come undone, and that's dangerous. Also I'm a geek). But seriously, the bureaucratic nonsense of it really annoyed me, especially as it took someone kicking up a fuss for them to actually take notice and sort it out. Politeness it seems gets you nowhere. And not ONE person said sorry for your inconvenience. It took one day out of our holiday too, which was a shame. Didn't get a chance to see certain things I wanted to, or just explore.

But anyhoo. Let's stick to the positives.
Dublin = v.cool indeed. Wicklow and Dublin Bay are lovely to look at. All the people we met were nice, and it definitely felt safer than London. So Dublin, I'm sure you'll be glad to know that you get a thumbs up from me. Fingers crossed, I'll come back to see you soon. Got some great MAC make up (one blush, one mascara, to lipglass pencils (they might be limited edition...) and a brush set). Got meself a cute retro-y red swing coat from Penneys/Primark for not very much money. Had a nice hotel room. A cute Canadian flirted with me beside a river. Got myself some great photos. All in all, had a lovely time. 

ps sorry for the ellipsis within an ellipsis. And as much as I liked the Soviet sub-plot and my love for Moss non-withstanding, the IT Crowd was a bit poor tonight. Sorry Graham. I only say it because I love you. 
 

This week can be divided neatly in to two:

BAD THINGS: 

God I am so exasperated with myself this week. My head is just all over the place. I owe £27 to one library and £19.20 to another because of my utter stupidity and inability to remember to renew books on time. And I used to work in a friggin' library. The slightly tarnished silver lining is that I shan't be paying the £27, I'm just going to cut up that library card and not go there anymore. They were only a ten days late, no-one else wanted them, and I didn't read half of them.
The £19.20 is from an academic library, so that will probably have to be paid.  

I have also offiicially lost my Nars blusher, in Desire. Urgh. And one half of a pair of very pretty jade Swarovski crystal earrings. BAH, I say, BAH. I really hate losing things! I SCOURED my room from top to bottom to no avail. 

Feel a bit worried that Merri the cat will be on her own and stuck in the house for 5 days. She isn't a proper house cat, nor a proper outdoor cat, she just plays in the garden during the day and I think she's going to get really bored and frustrated. Also I'm going to miss her something rotten. 

I am overdrawn.

GOOD THINGS:

I got my books through from Amazon. Lots of Nancy Mitford, The Dud Avocado, Fly By Night by Francis Hardinge and the first volume of Y: The Last Man. Really looking forward to getting stuck in to them. 

I got some cheap brand new Terry Pratchett's from a charity shop (all of which were on my Amazon wishlist, and one of which was in my basket, waiting for me to buy it. it was just by chance I went there, so all hail the book gods).

Dublin, going to. Studied quite a bit of Irish Literature at university, am really looking forward to going.  

I'm writing a story,  a children's fantasy adventure, which I'm sure about ten million people around the world are writing right now. Never fear, mine is purely for mine and my family's entertainment. I'm thoroughly enjoying the process. 

I ordered some sample of makeup from Lily Lolo and they are bloody fantastic. My skin looks better than it has in months. 

I'm finding the IT crowd pretty damn funny this series. I have had a secret geek crush on Graham Linehan for years.

Sigh. Peaks and troughs. Peaks and troughs.

...because I, or rather my dissertation, is DONE. 

Now all I have to do is waft hazily around in the sunshine, reading all the books i haven't had a chance read, and watching the dvds i haven't had a chance to watch.

I'm re-reading Inkheart by Cornelia Funke (tee hee, always make me think of Arrested Development) and am going to start Beyond Black by Hilary Mantel as soon as I've finished The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O' Farrell- lent to me by.

 Though there is a little part of me, right at the back of my mind that is biting its metaphorical fingernails and pulling it's metaphorical (though lustrous) hair and saying 'oh no, oh dear, now we have to find a job and lets face it we HAVE NO SKILLS. we are screwed!' over and over. 

I'm ignoring it. 

EDIT: I am going to Dublin next week. *happy face*

First holiday in ages, am looking forward to it.

Also finished The Vanishing Act... I liked it. Sad. Well-written. Strangely resonant with things I know that have happened to people I know (not of the 'we-locked-someone-sane-in-an-asylum way' just some other things...)

Smart Bitches Trashy Books has posted a review of the Sweet Valley High, Dear Sister.

One of my personal favourites :) http://www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com/


Here's an excerpt: 

Enter Bruce Patman, the slimeball rich kid who took advantage of Jessica in an earlier book, and has had it in for her, and for Elizabeth, ever since. Elizabeth, it seems, has given Bruce the brush-off ever since he dared mess with Jessica, and since Elizabeth is an unfailingly loyal and utterly milquetoast kind of girl, she sides with Jessica and hates Bruce.

But Elizabeth-acting-like-Jessica thinks Bruce is atche-ay-dubble-yew-tee HAWT. Elizabeth-as-Jessica thinks her boyfriend, Todd of the motorcycle of coma-inducing power, is coma-inducing himself, and wants nothing to do with him. She wants Bruuuuce. And Bruce is very pleased with this turn of events.

Now, it would have been very sexy, and very intriguing if there had been a subtext of vindication or even validation for Bruce: he’s a slimeball, but there was ample opportunity to turn him into a slimeball who could be cured by the power of Luuuurve™.  Of course, that does happen later, but for now, Bruce wants to get in Elizabeth’s pants and he has nefarious intentions with no emotional redemptive possibilities behind them. He’s a date rapist, pure and simple. He tries to get her drunk at a party, and Todd rescues her. Then Jessica tries to intervene, but not before Bruce escapes (in his Porsche, of course) with Elizabeth to take her on a tour of his beach house.

Bruce...pulled her onto a large white couch and began kissing her again.

“Ummmmm, Bruce,” she murmured.

“You like this, don’t you Liz?” He let one hand slide lightly onto her breast, waiting to see if she would protest.

“That feels so good, Bruce. “ Elizabeth sighed and ran her fingers through his dark hair, then pulled him closer.

Elizabeth couldn’t see his triumphant smile and didn’t know he planned to gloat about his victory over the girl who had always snubbed him.

And there you have it: the moment my young pre-teen self almost passed out. Bruce copped a feel and they used the word “breast” in a Sweet Valley High novel.

As a not-at-all-pre-teen reading the scene? My reaction was somewhere between, “Oh, yawn” and “Dear Lord.” Also Dear Sister.

So can I spoil the ending for you? It’s just too doofy and unreal not to.

Elizabeth and Bruce kiss their way upstairs, and it looks like Bruce might actually get into Elizabeth’s pants, when he decides to go downstairs for more wine (and one would hope, a condom). Elizabeth, confused in the dark, starts hearing a buzzing in her head, trips, and slams her head on a table. She doesn’t know where she is! It’s a strange bedroom! She doesn’t remember getting there! And then Bruce Patman walks in with wine and a big leer, and she goes running out of there, completely terrified.

She goes right to Dr. Edwards, the neurosurgeon, right? Gets herself the mother of all CAT scans?

Ha. Dear me, no.

She goes running down the beach away from Bruce.

It was wonderful to know who she was and where she was again. A brilliant moon sailed through the dark sky, and she wanted to yell, “Hi there, you old moon!” She wanted to thank the stars for still shining. The sound of the surf crashing on the beach was a symphony.

Dear Lord. [NO, Dear Sister!]

Enjoy!

So it's the run-up to handing in my dissertation on the 28th. I'm not feeling particularly nervous, I've done the research and am quite enjoying the writing up. It is slightly nerve-wracking, but it'll be good to be able to relax completely after it's handed in.

I had quite a pleasant, cosy little birthday, (the only downside was not being able to see my darling sis eesha) and got a nice assortment of goodies. 
To wit:

Apples for Jam by Tessa Kiros
The Magnolia Bakery Cookbook
The Winter Queen by Boris Akunin
Stardust by Neil Gaiman
Amadeus: The Directors Cut
£x amount, from various relatives.  

And a thoughfully constructed mixtape. Thanks roseability_!

All of which was much appreciated, so many thanks to my lovely friends and family.
Apparently there is more to come from one of my friends, some trouble with an internet order, and Mum wanted to wait until my Dad got back from Tripoli (where he works at the moment) before they got me a present. He arrived on Monday afternoon, but as yet I'm not sure what they have planned. Probably it'll be money, but as I need it desperately, you won't see me complainin'.

God the weather is horrible today. I'm glad I managed to finish the majority of my research at the British Library yesterday. I think I'm going to wander downstairs and get a cup of tea.

EDIT: Just wanted to say that I just found out that Kirsten Bell, who was the star of the brilliant-but-cancelled Veronica Mars, has been cast in Heroes next season, and that my friends is very awesome news indeed!

Argh. What the hell is wrong with me? I should be working, but instead am procrastinating big time. Must go do work. 

Will just quickly update first.


Without skin condition in bag/ with swollen lip below:


    

And one more photo  of  Merri for luck:

Birthday is on Friday. Last year I let my birthday slink by without mentioning it to anyone (I never really enjoy my birthdays...). This year I forgot about one factor in my calculations: Facebook. Where my birthday is prominently displayed, and will be put in to the 'upcoming' box soon. 
So I'm going to have dinner with some nice friends, in a nice restaurant. 
Not so painful after all.

Finally, in a bit off oddness I checked my junk mail today, and have to say this is the weirdest subject heading I've ever seen. 

From "Joakim Gunderson" (you gotta love these spam names)

RE: If you do not swear to forget Perrin Aybara, I will shave your head as bald as an egg.

I love the re :)
 I feel like I'm secretly a character in a S. American novel, with heapings of tangled love affairs and a spoonful of magical realism. 

I haven't had much news to post in a little while. Had a double wedding weekend, and the one at which I was a bridesmaid was just lovely. Really. I forgot how after all the stress and strains are over, weddings can be damned fun. I left early though, and missed the grooms 92 year old grandmother getting rip-roaringly drunk and falling over and breaking her arm. The bride ran out in the rain to flag down the ambulance, and everyone was upset but it all turned out okay.

I thought that this was quite exciting though:

(stolen from The Daily Trade Round-up on Pajiba.com)
 

It's more the first part that I think might be interesting, just because it's about time we had a bit of Whedon back on our screens (I'd have even gone to see Wonder Woman had it panned out). Though I do like Nathan Fillion, and he seems to be heading in a Deadwoody direction of some sort. And I've heard some awesome things about Deadwood, so even though it seems unlikely, it'd be cool to see it happen.

Am going to see Transformers tomorrow, so will report back eventually. I am so pleased at Shia LeBeouf, because I remember seeing him in Even Stevens a few years back, and remarking to the person next to me 'That kid is going to be big one day' like a wise old Hollywood sage. Even though I was ,say, fifteen at the time. But I just think he's charming, and even though he seems priviliged and middle-classish he's actually from Echo Park, and oh I don't know. I have a soft spot for the boy.

Also got another great second-hand book haul:

I remember reading somewhere a line by a critic that said 'If Terry Pratchett is skimmed milk, then Ursula Le Guin is double cream'. Which puzzled me, as I can't tell whether it's an acknowledgement of his social conscience, but saying Le Guin is more so, or that Pratchett lacks depth, and Le Guin swims in it. Slight or back-handed compliment? I can't decide.

I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on the day it came out (exhausting!) but don't really know if I've got anything new to bring to the table. There were parts I liked, bits I hated, and stuff that could have been done better. I read a bizarrely glowing review of it on the normally cynical pajiba.com (here if you're interested). I can't say I agree with the review, but I did enjoy the book, so I suppose it balances out all the negative comments floating around. 



I have been reading quite a lot recently, partly for my dissertation. Just finished Un Lun Dun by China Mieville which I recommend. In fact it does a good job of inverting all the children's fantasy conventions which sit well with me (as expected from a committed socialist who in a Guardian interview had this to say about sidekicks- That," he adds, "is one of the things in Harry Potter I did have a problem with - the whole house system in the schools where the Hufflepuff house's whole role is defined as 'sidekick' and the quality it is lauded for is loyalty. It's that kind of nostalgic dream of a butler class - I really, really don't like that". The interview is here if anyone is interested).


I've finally managed to get *some* work done on my dissertation, and sent it to my supervisor. It's patchy and only a thousand and a half words but it's a start. At least he can look at it and hopefully sign off on it, and I can get on with the rest. 
Though today I'm going to see Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix with some friends (Im wondering if I'm od-ing on Harry Potter and childrens fiction right now...)
So toodle pip to you all,
xxx

Took Merri to the vet, her skin condition was playing up again. We got the handsome Aussie vet (score), and Merri was at her cutest. She basically snuggled in to my chest shivering, put her two paws on my collarbone, and hid her face in my neck. I did have to bend down a little to accomodate her. Bless her, the vet was like 'poor little munchkin!'. He has no idea what she's like normally. Of course I love her regardless, and she really is just a big baby under that sulky demeanour.

Also I got the best second-hand book haul the other day. Un Lun Dun by China Mieville for £1.50! Everywhere I've seen it, it's been at least 8 or 9 squid, so that was awesome. I also picked up A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth, The Unicorn by Iris Murdoch, Cosmopolis by Don Delilo for a pound each. I'm always amazed by how books I want magically seem to turn up in the charity shops in my hometown. And I've been trying to figure out why multiple, almost new copies of the same book appear in more than one charity shop. I think it might be from book clubs. Sounds plausible right? 

The best book I found though? A two-books-in-one Nancy Drew Files! II used to read them eons ago. They're scarily similar to SVH only a bit more racy and with added MURDER. And the plot lines are completely ludicrous. They actually make less sense than SVHs and Nancy? Worst. Detective. Ever. And just something of a spoiled rich girl whose a little loose, if you get me.

I just read the first one, where Nancy (who is 18, in the 80s) goes back to highschool to find the culprit of some random thefts. And by random thefts, videos being stolen from the AV club, and random lockers being broken in to. Because that's where the states money should go when a few videos goes missing. On a teenage titian-haired slueth in an oversized sweater and tight jeans. She almost immediately falls for the 'gorgeous' blond football player Dale Grey, (who btw has date rapist written all over him) even though Ned Nickerson is her college boyfriend (they have this on-off thing or something) and we learn in the first chapter that Dale's family lost all their money a few months ago, and yet he drives a new porsche....Put two and two together Nanc, jeez. 

So turns out there's this kid called Jake, who is blackmailing three other students, and he has all their incriminating evidence on tape. So you have the sports star who has an injury no-one knows about but needs to play in the big game to get his scholarship- with footage of him bandaging up his ribs. The tries-too-hard-to-be-popular chubby girl; secret shoplifter. The high-acheiving nerd who cheated on his SATS. 
And how did Nancy find this tape? By going in to the video room, and picking up a tape called 'I Spy' that was just sitting on the shelf. Yes that's right. Jake meanwhile, has been murdered, pushed down the stairs. So Nancy tries to find out which of the three kids he was blackmailing decided to fight back, while continuing her flirtation with Dale. He actually comes over to see the tape, and they make out for a bit. That is until her friends George and Bess come over and interrupt. Dale makes nice and leaves, only for the girls to then discover that the tape has one last bit of footage right at the end. Dale, taking money from a mystery man! 
And who is that mystery man? Well they drive out to the place where he met him and it turns out to be a...USSR compound. That's right. Dale is selling secrets to the Reds!
But he's in high school? Doesn't matter! He has a contact in the US military, and he's the one who killed Jake.  There's added gratituitous scenes of Nancy playing along, and going to prom with Dale, and then making out in the back of his car. Then he gets a little violent, and gets rugby tackled by Nick Nickerson. Finally there's this whole thing of how Dale now has to help them capture this Mitch dude, and blah blah, everything turns out alright in the end. 
So bad it made my eyes ache. 

Also HarPo7 will be delivered tomorrow; Amazon has dispatched it already. It's odd when your attitude to a book is somewere near exhaustion. I just want it all to be over dammit.

This week is a mixed bag. On the one hand I was mortally bored, today and yesterday. On the other, the tail end of the week is devoted to celebrating upcoming nuptials in some shape or form. Sandwiched in between in a trip in to central to see either Shrek 3 or the new Fantastic 4 (yeah they will both mildly suck, but the ample snarking opportunity will make up for it).  

To wit, I shall be attending an engagement party of a girl I don't know that well on Friday. She is however, very nice, and I'm sure her beaux is too. The party is in some place called Bushey, which claims to be in London, but actually seems to be in Hertfordshire. All of which means, long way to travel. So no high-heels for Aqsa, boo. 

And then on Saturday comes that cornucopia of wrongness that is a hen night. Take one old woman (specifically the groom-to-be's nan). Add a handful of middle aged mothers who like their wine plentiful and their jokes dirty. Sprinkle with various bridesmaids, including the airhead bimbo, the bitchy sister, the fashion-concious teenager with deep-seated insecurities, the oddball cousin, and the trainee hairdresser. Oh and me (whose flaws and personality problems are well known to you all). Thrown a nudified man in to the mix. 
And did I forget to mention that there will be a bouncy castle, it's techincally an Ann Summers party and WE ARE ALL DRESSING UP AS PIRATES.
Yes that's right. Not only do I have to sit through an oiled-up man-ho gyrating in my near vicinity but I have to do it while wearing a headscarf and big hoopy earrings. Headscarfs make my face look like a potato. Sigh. 
Thing is, I know lots of people will probably find this oodles of fun. But I am sadly not one of them. I'm a prude I tell you! It's not for nothing that my friend nicknamed me 'The Victorian Lady'. I can't cope with rudeyness or nudeyness. Gah. 
But also, how does one dress up as a pirate? I suppose white shirt, trousers, boots. Maybe a waistcoat? God I hate waistcoats.

Though on a happier note, the Doctor Who finale was worth waiting for, though also something of a mixed bag. But the interaction between the Doctor and the Master kicked ass (and sent everyones hoyay radar sky-rocketing) so I was pleased. Sad to see Martha go, because she's cool, but she'll be back for the second half of series 4.

Also Dexter is comin to FX this weekend, I think on Sunday. WATCH IT. It's really good.

Mingle² - Online Dating 
Lock up your children, there's hell, gun and murder on this here blog!
Go here for your own rating: http://mingle2.com/blog-rating

Today has been a mildly productive day. I spoke to my dissertation supervisor and sorted some stuff out. By next week I should have a couple of thousand words to hand in. I think I'm going to enjoy that.

I went to Tescos and did a bit of shopping. Insert suitably ironic statement of how my life is full of excitement, thrills and wonder only not
Though, I kind of hate Tescos. I find it cheerless. I don't know why Sainsbury's or Asda or Waitrose should be any different, they're built on practically the same lines. Just...don't like Tescos. Anyway, at least I washed my hair, got out of the house and did something useful today.

I'm looking forward to shopping with Eeshy tomorrow :) And then lunch at fish!. The exclamation mark is theirs not mine. I love Borough and its market, and am secretly pleased that I will get to eat good food. I'm a secret foodie you see, shh. I do like nice restaurants, and nice food, but don't get the chance to eat out much (no money, no time, laziness, no money). 
And then the weekend is filled with lots of Eeshy-and-Aaron-and-Bella-and-Darcy-Spaldingy-Londony goodness.

Sour note: I googled the author Ursula Le Guin (who I'm planning to reference in my dissertation), and the third hit (the third!) linked to this horrible, horrible website, which seems to consist of neo-nazis and holocaust deniers who think the white race is under attack by brown people (they have a 'problem' with the fact that her characters are mostly non-white, only they don't express it so politely). Really appalling stuff. What's worse is the fact that kids googling her name for school book reviews could read such horribleness. Sigh. Obviously I felt the need to share my pain with the rest of you.  

Also Neil Gaiman's Sandman series is as good as they say it is. But now I have the first two volumes, I want the next eight.

And there it is. The final transition from mildly nerdy to uber-geek comes in the form of the comic book.
Here's where I also mention that I got the first three Buffy Season 8 comics from Forbidden Planet the other day (listen, it's written as if it was literally season eight of Buffy, and y'all loved Buffy right? Only it's not got any sfx budget, i.e. potential to do whatever the hell they want. And Joss Whedon wrote it. So we're agreed on its potential awesomeness? Good because it IS awesome.)

Oh Lord, I have so much to do today. 

Me and Ma purchased an arc trainer from Argos, and it had something wrong with it. So we exchanged it for a new one- only there was something wrong with this one too. Now we're getting yet another one on Friday. All of which means I have AGAIN  spend another two hours taking a complicated heavy machine apart. How I wish I could ignore all that feminism has taught me, and foist this task on the nearest male available. 

Then I have to clean the bathroom- not too mammoth a task admittedly- do some hoovering, and tidy my room. Why does housework take so much bloody time? Maybe I'm just slow at it. Like I am at all things that require physical exertion. But still seriously, shouldn't they have invented robots that do that for us by now?

Tomorrow some girls are coming round for an 80's film day. We have lots of dvds, most of which star Molly Ringwold, I bought a tonne of snacks, from tortilla chips and dip, to walkers sensations, to popcorn and fudge cake. We are very well prepared. 
It's going to be fun :)

 

Oh my GOD! Doctor Who was so good! Arghhhh....

Spoilers contained below if you didn't catch it. Also I am now going to morph in to Geek Girl. Hold on to your seatbelts...


Okay first of all,i was pretty sure that Harold Saxon would turn out to be a Time Lordy person, The Master obviously. But  to turn up like this, in this episode was a surprise. And ofcourse, JOHN SIMM! So brilliant! I can't think of anyone better to play The Master. I absolutely love John Simm, even before Life on Mars. First of all we got Derek frickin Jacobi (who I have had a real soft spot for since I, Claudius) and then he regenerates in to John Simm! I squeed to the point where my mum actually said 'You are such a dork'. Thanks Ma! But yeah, she's right. Even in the few minutes of that you got at the end, seeing John Simm's playful evilness (which is a such a good parallel with David Tennant's more playful Doctor) and him interact with the Doctor was just awesomeness itself.

And Captain Jack is back, and his banter with the (to him, new) Doctor was good, and the alien Chantho actually made me smile, and Martha was fab, and oh...everything! 

Very annoyingly I had a detailed and witty post all written up yesterday around midnight (so also perhaps today) and livejournal sucked it up in to it's black hole and nary a trace of it was found again.

So to recap (I suppose here should have some sort of spoiler warning, so don't read on if you don't want to know what happened in the latest Doctor Who!):

 Doctor Who was bloody good on Saturday. I had a bit of a problem with the unrequited passion Martha had for the Doctor, as it just meant I ended up feeling sorry for her every week. Nonetheless, Freema Agyeman is really really good in the role, and it seems to be working. I'm interested to see where they go with it. I thought the end was good, and creepy (especially the little girl in the mirror- yikes) but excessive! Surely these aliens, as we were told more than once, were going to die anyway in three months. Why go all Greek myth on their asses, and curse them to be trapped for eternity in unbreakable chains and so on? I think their making the Doctor rather too cruel this series. Can't see good old Christopher Eccleston doing a thing like that. Also Jessica Stevenson/Hynes played her character wonderfully, her hearbreak actually made me tear up a little.  
Also, Eeshy, did you notice that Will Scarlett from Robin Hood was in it? Playing a character as posh as he is in real life, finally.

And the minior complaints and grumbles I had yesterday have been solved today so I don't have all that much to report. 

Toodle pip

I'm going out tonight, to Schpunk in Your Eyes, and feel quite tired. Found it difficult to sleep.
Friday evening, I stepped on an earring, and it went in at least a centimetre deep in to my foot. But I didn't expect to still hurt after nearly a day and a half. Heal damn you. I want to wear boots tonight.

My friend Elizabeth will be arriving at 4-5 pm, to laze around and watch dvds, then we'll have dinner and drive out to the thing. Also I hate Romford at night. We might go and join Livvy and Jo and co in't pub, because they rock, even though I *hate* pubs and can't wait for London to be smoke-free. 

Intinerary for today. Have to eat breakfast in a minute. Then will tidy room, which is a mess of epic proportions. Then will tidy spare room. Then will make brownies (I had a cake bet with Elizabeth a month or so back, it's an ordinary bet only what's at stake is...cake). Then will shower and change and try to make myself look less dead and more alive. 

Also Friday was interesting, but not in the way I expected. After a day of wondering whether the universe hates me, I've decided to remain upbeat and believe in the notion that things happen for the best. 

Next Thursday I'm supposed to be going to dinner with one of my professors, with the rest of my class, but am going to wriggle out of it. Mostly because I think the essay I wrote for her class is really awful, and I actually feel ashamed to face her. Also she is a dear and lovely woman, but I can't really forge friendships with authority figures. Perhaps I subconciously resent them, I don't know. 

Tomorrow I have lots of secondary crit to wade through, but it's all very interesting thank God. I wish I had paid more attention to the Mr Chips-like Doctor Who last night, but was doing something else at the same time. Must watch the repeat.