So much for normal service...
Been a crazy few weeks here at Salmond Mansions, but it's time now to throw our hands up and let what will be, be. No time now to tweak arrangements, find alternative solutions or perform tribal sun-dances.
Tomorrow is Wedding Day.
See ya in a couple of weeks...
Thursday, July 31, 2008
So much for normal service...
Friday, July 18, 2008
Whoops, sorry about the lack of posting. What can I say, it just got out of hand. Like a social smoker, I just slipped down the slope of bad habit hill. Actually, to be more accurate I've tumbled down the side of good habit hill, undoing all my hard work. Oh well, expect regular service again soon.
Anyway, I'm enjoying the current fake headline junkmail trend. Below are a few of my favourites from the last few days:
Friday, July 04, 2008
Jesus, I gotta get out of the house. But yesterday I:
- Worked. Thursday means new comics day, means long day, means busybusybusy. Also, had some annoying NZ woman in who, at the peak of the lunch time rush, stood smack in front of the counter barking questions at us, asking the same things over and over because we obviously hadn't given her the answers she wanted. Then, when she was done, she tried to haggle down the price of a copy of Comics International (£2.99). I don't haggle. Anyway, it really was that kind of day. Got the filing done though, so that's good.
- The Gosh logo has undergone an as yet unimplemented redesign and as such we're getting new stationary and, at long last, business cards for the store. More importantly though, I'm getting one of my own! At last, I've made the big-time!
- Faffed about a bit when I got home before making some tasty chorizo-sauce pasta and watching a flick.
- Watched Val Lewton's "Bedlam". Another classic RKO picture whose sensationalist publicity belies the thematic intelligence of the piece. William Hogarth is actually given a writing credit for being the inspiration for the story with his depiction of the hospital in A Rake's Progress. Set in 1761, Boris Karloff plays the apothecary general of the titular asylum, intent on crawling his way into high society. Anna Lee plays an itinerant actor who has becomer the companion of a prominent lord, managing to do that which Karloff so dearly wishes for. She seeks to bring reforms to Bedlam with the help of Whig politician John Wilks and seeing her as a threat to his position, Karloff has her declared insane and committed. Another shadow-drenched study in mood and atmosphere, the film does a very good job of recreating Olde London Towne (the odd iffy accent aside) on what was a limited budget. Less a horror than a humanist study of 18th Century England, I would highly recommend it.
- Speaking of humanism, I played some TF2 and totally blew some guys to bits.
- Read for a bit then hit the sack.
- Dreamt I was swimming across a lake, pursued by long-fanged, water-winged babies. The water was thick with weed and my long, ungainly limbs became entangled to the point where it was all I could do to stay afloat. The infants, however, skimmed across the placid lake surface, their long incisors gleaming with drool as their tiny limbs clawed the water, moving them ever closer. On the other shore a pretty woman in a summer dress, carefree and smiling, waved to me encouragingly. I turned fully to her and focused on her happy features even as the small, splashing sounds of death closed in. Not sure what it means.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
It's...July 3rd. But yesterday I:
- Had the day off, as I have to work this Saturday. By coincidence, Alex had the day off to see Jack Johnson and Ben Harper play in Hyde Park. So we went out and had some breakfast, which was very nice.
- I went in to town to pick up a new power supply. Picked up one on sale from PC World for £20. Result!
- Had a coffee and did some writing, during which I got some good mileage out of a few old ideas.
- Came home and replaced my power supply. Bingo! Everything starts up as it should. Only now one of the internal fans seems to be packing up. I thought it might be the cpu fan, but upon further investigation I think it's actually one of the case ones.
- Went back into town and picked up some comics for reading.
- Read some comics! Small week, but some good stuff in there. Top pick would have to be Hellboy: The Crooked Man. Creepy stuff. Walking Dead was also solid as ever, Astounding Wolf-Man offered a bit of a turning point, Patsy Walker Hellcat was a ton'o'fun and Astonishing X-Men was a promising start to Ellis' run.
- Watched some more Middleman, which I've changed my mind on, then went to sleep.
- Dreamt I was walking around the streets of London with a flamethrower. People would try to engage me in conversation, but when I tried to respond in a friendly manner I would instead consume them in gouts of flame. Distraught, I ran down a back alley to get away from those I might harm. Suddenly I was cornered by three ne'er-do-wells, intent on relieving me of my money. I went to torch them, but instead all I could do was inquire politely how their day had gone. They loomed above me, blotting out the feeble light of the street lamp beyond. Not sure what it means.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Our wedding invites have been seized by NZ biosecurity folk! But yesterday I:
- Slept late, but managed to get out by 8, allowing for pre-work writing time.
- Worked, mainly building the ship list for the first standing order deliveries for Islington adult and Southwark.
- Walked home and probably sweated out my 2 litres for the day. Man, it was hot! I’m enjoying the London Biography audiobook immensely, though. As much as his hammery (a word which doesn’t exist, but should and now therefore does) can get on my nerves, Simon Callow is perfect for this. It’s all clear enunciation and rolling r’s and feels somehow very proper. I should also add that despite my feelings on Callow’s sub-Blessed boomishness (see hammery), I have a terrible, foul hunger to see him play a reincarnated Aleister Crowley in Bruce Dickinson’s film The Chemical Wedding. Please, Prince Charles Cinema, give me a second chance.
- Cleaning time! Got home, had some sub-par food from the new Malaysian restaurant around the corner (what a shame, I had such hopes for a decent Malaysian place nearby) and then got stuck into cleaning the bathroom. Proper-like. We’re talking a removal of anything not fixed down, eye-watering bleach on the tiles, sulphuric acid drain cleaner (with attendant hissing and smoke upon application) and some kind of fruity Flash variant to mop the floor. Oh and I got my hair cut.
- Managed to coax a start-up out of my PC and was happy to find out that Bruce has managed to procure me a copy of the Under The Mountain DVD, which I should have in my hot little hands when he arrives on Friday. Expect a review. Well, as soon as I’ve done the Val Lewton ones of course, which I must confess have ground to a complete halt.
- Finally hit the sack at about 12.30. I realise this is a normal bed time for many of you. An early bed time for some. For me, in my dotage, this is now officially Too Late. Went straight to sleep. As opposed to going to bed 1 ½ hours earlier and taking an hour to drift off. Hmm...
- Dreamt I was racing against time to save the world from nuclear Armageddon. Only my top notch hacking skills could win out the day, as well as nab me the beautiful girlfriend of the asshole jock she just couldn’t seem to dump because of her insecurities. Racing to my desk, I hit the power switch to fire up my machine but the FUCKING THING WOULDN’T START! Not sure what it means.
- PS Let it be said that, as much as I love my little Asus Eee PC, it’s in the last few days that I’ve really come to lavish upon it the passion it deserves. If I weren’t to be married in less than a month, I’d take it as my bride.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
It's a year today since we got engaged and a month today until we marry. How exciting! Anyway, yesterday I:
- Celebrated my finance's birthday! Happy yesterday-was-your-Birthday, Alex!
- Worked. Had a meeting with Josh looking at the year ahead; what kind of events we have planned and so on. Then came home to work on putting images into the Marshal Law segment of the O'Neill interview.
- Had an incredibly frustrating afternoon, where I picked out, scanned, cropped and resized pics for the video, but then when they were dropped in they looked appalling. And of course throughout this my PC crashed several times. I'm convinced now that the problem lies with the power supply. Even as I type I can hear its fan struggling away like an erratic heartbeat. Shopping trip tomorrow, before it explodes and burns our house down.
- Anyway, couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong, which is frustrating because it's sure to be something ridiculously simple. Will try again over the next few days, but this pushes the interview back another week.
- Met Alex and Debs for a drink at the Hen & Chickens at about 6.30 and then we headed down to Brixton to see Erykah Badu. She was fantastic. I expected that, despite not really being fussed one way or another, I would enjoy it. But I was blown away by her. The stage layout was great, a sprawling series of platforms and mini-stages for her sprawling band, and the lighting was excellent. Most importantly, Badu has a real charisma on stage, even from our view at the back of the Academy. Amazing voice and a real confidence in her material that allowed her to play fast and loose with the arrangements of her older songs. She did no encore, instead just playing on past the venue curfew time of 11pm. Fantastic night.
- Experienced the joy of coming home from Brixton without the aid of the Victoria line. Got a bus to Stockwell then Northern line. Our intention was to head to Angel, but we got involved with a guy sitting near us who seemed to be having a seizure of some kind. He was leaning forward on his knees and kept slipping off them, but would always right himself. He was drooling, also, and sweating like a demon. When asked if he was okay, he would reply like a stuck record saying only "Sorry" or "Oh, yes." He also seemed to be getting progressively worse. We ended up carrying him off the tube at Kings Cross and getting him some help there. I managed to get out of him that his name was Mark and it became apparent that it was more likely drug-related than anything. Anyway, hope he came out of it all okay.
- Got home, had a shish kebab, went to sleep.
- Dreamed I was a baby, asleep on a bed of down and mother's prayers. Angels floated above me, singing lullabies of peace and salvation. Was awash with feelings of tranquillity as I nestled deeper into my bedding. And then my fucking computer crashed.
Holy shit, it's July! And wouldn't you know it, the day before yesterday I:
- Worked. Went through the s/o people and made note of anyone with more than 2 months worth of stuff. Replied to some emails. Went home early, as I was owed time from Thursday.
- Had more PC problems. Twice I couldn’t get it to start straight away and once it actually crashed in the middle of a game of TF2.
- Had a kick-ass run on TF2 with the Demoman character.
- Went for a drink with Alex at a really nice local pub called the Scolt’s Head. Sat outside and had a couple of pints while inside started to build up for the Euro Cup final.
- Got home and had dinner. Watched some telly, including Top Gear and Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares.
- Played on the PC for a bit, then read Tom’s short story, which I enjoyed but will talk to you about more later, Tom.
- Read my book, staying up until midnight so I could sing Alex a Happy Birthday! Went to sleep.
- Dreamt I was squeezing an orange to serve the king a glass of fresh juice. I took to the task with relish, but it soon became apparent that all of my oranges were rotten. As I picked each up, it would disintegrate into a sludgy mess, its pulpy mass emitting a sickly sweet stench. I heard the footsteps of the Kings guardsmen approaching, who I knew would execute me if I didn’t have the juice ready. Frantic now, I scrabbled through the pile of fruit, only now seeing that everything was covered in mould, thick, pus-like excretions seeping from their skins. I turned to face the door as shadows grew on the corridor wall, acidic juices burning beneath my fingernails as I stretched my hands outward, a citric supplication for mercy. Not sure what it means.