working on it

I started to watch Big School today - managed 10 minutes before giving up. It's just, it almost felt like a school production, ridicuous OTT 'jokes' lacking in any degree of subtlety. And when it wasn't overpoweringly unsubtle it hit me in my second hand embarrassment squick. So I gave up. Philip Glenister notwithstanding.

Another thing I can't bear to watch, but for entirely different reasons, is the opening credits to True Blood. They creep me out so much, they make me feel anxious and want to cry. Which is bizarre because the show does no such thing. (I'm really enjoying the show, it's rich and funny and deliciously out there.

And taking the 'links' to ridiculous lengths;'talking of delicious...' - The Great British Bake Off has started. Yay. I love Sue and I love Mel'n'Sue and it's good and yes.

Oh, and as an aside, an offender's father threatened to hang me today. Way to start a Friday morning, death threats before 9.30.

Such fun.

Two of my Mum's sisters have been visiting and one of them is completely lovely. The other... isn't.

It's been a stressful two days.

I've just watched my first three episodes of True Blood. Elvis-y, David Morrissey-y Bill is intriguing.

So, a conversation with curiositykate made me think about the crush I had on my high school geography teacher.

next thing I know it's 40 minutes later. 4o minutes that I've spent facebook stalking him.

I'm not sure what's worse:

That I spent 40 minutes doing that.
That I enjoyed doing so.
That I still find him attractive (in *most* of the pictures I found) -
That I can still remember that he's 18 years older than me (he was therefore, 36 when I was 18 and I thought that was *so* old.)


Actually, I do know what's worse:

I now also fancy his son.

His son.

With the rider that I've actually had a nice day - lazy morning, long lunch with a friend (ie 12.30-5.00 - although we only actually ate a cheese scone in that time!) tea at mother's and then a drive to find today's sunset.


( in case you want to see it!)

1. Text from my friend's mum about them having to have their cat euthanized yesterday. I already knew, but she offered me left over cat treats for my babies and it made me cry.

2. Watching children dancing at a local fun day park - mixed reasons, they were having such fun and it was lovely, but then that made me think how I'd have been too shy to join in as a child, which made me think about how my Dad would have encouraged me, which made me think of my Dad and... It was all of these things, one atop the other.

3. Walking around the supermarket. No rhyme or reason to this one.

4. Taking a photo of the sunset that didn't come out right, I took it, checked it, realised the place wasn't a good vantage point and went back to my car - and started crying!

5. A fanfiction. Not even a good one, but one that made me think and therefore cry.

6. Driving home, after sunsetting. Again, no reason, just tears.

I don't think I'm quite right today.

I've been driving a brand new "3 series BMW" today - I'm assured by the reactions of the folk around me, that this is something to be envied and for me to have revelled in. I was just grumpy that I had to drive a 90mile round trip for more training. Especially when said training lasted only 2 hours. Still there you go. I am now trained in using the new computer systems at work. Hurrah.

I am very grumpy in general today, probably because I have to go back to work proper tomorrow and catch up on all the crap that entails. Finding it very hard to motivate.

Oh but one thing has amused me - a friend posted on facebook:
"Growing up: the realisation that none of your dreams will come true."

And I responded with:
"Giving up: the reason that none of your dreams will come true."

Primarily because I know it will annoy him, although there is a strong element of truth there of course. Mind you in my pessimistic moods I agree with him, But there you go.

I was going through my holiday snaps - all the pics I took at various cemeteries and I took several angel memorials again, I am, as you know, hooked. The things is, I take the shots from many many angles trying to find the ones that work. Digital camera, one can do that with impunity.

However, when you do this, then scroll quickly through the images it becomes a movie of kinds, a movie of jump cut, ninja quick, moving, weeping angels. I literally freaked myself out so much I had to stop what I was doing and watch jolly things on youtube to defear myself!

I shall go and continue my grump elsewhere now.

Yay.

Things of holidayness.

1. Relaxing. The thing was, on the whole, relaxing. Some travel stresses, but beyond that, chilled. We fitted all but one of the visits to relations into one day, and they were mainly stress free, so hurrah. The visit on the second day worked out too, because it was to Mum's friend, who I've never met, so my Aunt delivered Mum, the friend brought her back and I had the afternoon to myself and went graveyard exploring.

2. Graveyard exploring. There are a lot of cemeteries in Hampshire - initially I had planned to drive to Portsmouth and see the huge, historical one, but we drove to Pompey on the first day and the traffic was so horrendous, with roadworks, poorly marked diversions and the like, that I couldn't face going there a second day, so I stuck to the local cemeteries in Gosport. The nearest still took a good few hours to explore, so goodness knows how long I'd have been lost in the "big one". As well as lovely graves and memorials, I saw foxes playing and squirrels and birds and it was blissful. (although I went back the following day to take some photos of the sunset and managed to freak myself out - not by thoughts of ghosties, more by the overgrown darkness of the place and my uncertainty as to whether this was a place to be at dusk, not having local knowledge.

3. Narrow escape on the motorway. On the way to Hampshire I was in the outside lane, overtaking the other two lanes, when a lorry pulled out in front of a car in the middle lane - I slowed, not trusting the other drivers and thank goodness I did - in the middle lane was a car pulling a boat on a trailer. Out of nowhere an entire wheel came of the trailer. The car, boat et al veered across the lanes to get to the hard shoulder, causing the other vehicles to brake and swerve etc. Meanwhile the errant tyre bounced merrily across the lanes in front of me- where my now rapid braking allowed me to just miss it and keep going - until the bloody thing hit the central reservation and bounced back, in front of me again! I had to screech to a halt this time, and thank goodness, the car behind me managed to stop too. Scary. Ridiculous and all over in seconds. I was pleased with my reactions and spent the next couple of miles fighting the initial adrenalin buzz, then inevitable crash. I say again, scary.

4. Talking of. I shared a room with my mother and midweek I had a night terror and freaked her out by attempting to scream in my sleep to wake myself - which worked 'cos she woke me in a panic, so it all worked out in the end! Horrible dreams (the third in a week) of drowning. Hmmm.

5. I came back to find a ginormous bouquet of flowers sitting (in a box) in my front garden - a gift from my bank who booked me an appointment with a mortgage advisor but forgot to put it in their diary, so when I turned up there was no one to see me. They apologised profusely on the day, phoned me the following day to 'explain' what went wrong; sent me a letter of apology and now the flowers! They're lovely though.

6. Now I'm home and it's midday and I'm still in my pjs catching up with lj. Also hungry but with no food in the house and needing to do housework but with no enthusiasm. I do have wine but am resisting the siren call.

As is my wont, and I ended up in a debate with myself.

I posited to myself that "Not attractive" wasn't the same as "unattractive." I agreed with myself.

Then I thought, well it's almost like a scale:

Attractive... not attractive...unattractive.

And then I got to wondering where "not unattractive" would fit in.

Is it:

Attractive...not attractive...not unattractive...unattractive.

or does "not unattractive" mean more attractive than "not attractive", in which case it would go:

Attractive....not unattractive....not attractive...unattractive.

By this time I was completely addled, losing the will to live and drawing some strange glances as I tried to make sense of it all.

Also, do you know how hard it is to type "attractive" a trillion times in one post?!

It's not my fault - the sky wasn't such a distraction this evening.

I survived a July of posting every day. (I hope it wasn't *too* tiresome for you all!)

Not sure what happens now, Naarmamo starts tomorrow, but I'm finding the mere thought of that rather daunting - We'll see what happens.

In the meantime tomorrow is bank apts and garage. Grown up stuff that I realise now, (As I type this before going to bed) that I meant to research on the internet in advance. Maybe I'll wake up early enough tomorrow to have a quick squidge.

I'm also needing to wash my clothes, dry and iron same, clean the entire house and pack for hols.

Fri I have a hundred and one work tasks I need to complete before I go on leave, so I expect an 8 or 9 pm finish.

Then hols (which I should be excited about, but am equally becoming daunted by - it's a 5 hour drive to the destination which is a stress in and of itself, and then there's going to be tons of family visiting, and staying in relative's houses and ...)

I'm sure it will all be spiffing.

"I do declare," the tortoise said
"I rather wish that I were dead.
For simply put, one's life is hell
If you're a tortoise in a shell.
Folk witter on about the hare
and certainly don't seem to care
that the bloody race was fixed;
it's enough to make a tortoise sick.
I know the hare didn't lift a paw...
the whole thing was a metaphor.
'More haste less speed', with glee they voice.
Forgetting I don't have a choice.
slow, slow, slow, slow slow
is the only dance *I* know.
I move my shell an inch a minute
Oh how I wish I wasn't in it.
I do declare," the tortoise said
"I really wish that I were dead.

Sometimes my subconscious is kind to me. I spent a good chunk of my sleepytime entwined in the arms of Danno/Scott Caan. Not in *that* way, just in a kind of crisis, emotionally interdependent can't bear to let go while dealing with this trauma kind of way. It was very explicitly stated in fact, that we weren't together in that way, just needing the body contact. Good times!

(At one point we backed into a doorway to hold/comfort and then realised it was the doorway to a war vets shelter, and we had to move aside for a vet, who reached out and touched Scott on the shoulder in support, before going in.)

Sometimes dreams are the lovelymost.

( I mean, look at those arms, who wouldn't want them tight around you in comfort and warmth? )