working on it

Seeing as I've been such a misery guts of late

(*barring emergency)

So, this week will be posts of happy making things only.

Today's is the fact I have a big old glass of booze that I am slowly working my way through.

And I have 5 series of True Blood that I am whizzing through. (apart to start season 5, don't spoil me.) I'm not sure how I managed to avoid this previously, but oh it is fun. Prettiness and ridiculousness and oh my god, did I mention the pretty and the sex and the funny. I am watching it at a shameful rate and the world is permeating my dreams all night - nothing concrete, just the general sense of being in that world. Mainly with Eric as a background character throughout.

I thought SPN was overwhelmingly full of the pretty, but this is beauty x a thousand, and they're all naked, all the time.

(Which leads me to wonder, why exactly did my colleague decide "I knew *you'd* love it." !)

I haven't done fiction yet, trying to avoid spoiling - but I'm not sure who I'd want to read about. I don't have a stand out pairing or character - I love them all and it makes me smile when I'm watching.

:)

I've never seen this show - I found this clip by following a link from tvtropes - but three things have made me watch it over and over, even when I don't think the Not!Alex O'Loughlin can act very well.

1. Oh God, I would never have thought AOL with long curly hair would be this pretty. And all the long sleeve black going on.

2. At 1.50ish, he says "he has my Beth." and that one little sentence, not even that, just the two words "my Beth", just melt something inside me that I can't identify. It's not a lust thing. There's just something.

3. The way Not!AOL lays him so gently on the table.

I mean, I'm not going to lie, the panting, struggle, gasping, glaring close sextensionlustslash of it all isn't a hardship either, but in the main it's those three little things.

Has anyone watched it? (Moonlight) - is this a representative clip?*


*I actually wrote the word representational? WTF?

I can't get into my hotmail account. This is dreadful. All my feedback from any fic I've written is on there - I can't get in and I can't access the change the password option because none of my answers to security questions are accepted. This is so frustrating.

Argh.

After the excesses of yesterday, I have been lazy today - a desultory amount of housework this morning, followed by hours of dvd watching. In Deep again, which I will react to properly tomorrow because I am very tired now and have very few words. But I will say how noticeable in my recent viewings of Lewis, In Deep and other such British shows, how very noticeable that some actors are *always* the bad guy. So much so that I can't decipher if mistrust of such characters comes from the role and how they are performing or my instant knowledge that they will be the murderer/sneak/mad axeman.

Like I said, I aim to write more about In Deep later. But for now, all I can say is "Oh Garth."

I made pasta earlier, which was lovely, but now I'm hungry and I've frozen the other portions, and now I'm regretting taking all the cookies to work in the week.

I live in a seaside town, and the seagulls have their babies on the local rooftops every year. A few years ago there was a baby wandering round the road after it fell from the nest and, for a brief period of time, the street was adorned with small bowls of food and water outside every other door - which warmed the heart. Until someone shot it.

Today, there was a dead seagull atop my car. It showed no signs of injury, no wounds, but was (apparently, I made Mother go look when she visited) just dead on the car, with food in its mouth. I don't know what kills seagulls, if it could be natural causes, or if someone has poisoned it. The roof above has a dead chick on it. Not sure whether poison killed both, or whether the parent gull died and the chick died as a result. Further distressing me, is the fact that I can't be sure if there is another chick on the roof, (it's too dark to see, I spotted something that might be just as dusk was settling, there was nothing noticeable all day.) And if it is, I don't know if it's now abandoned or if the other parent seagull is tending it. Do they care in pairs? There are so many seagulls in the street, it's impossible to tell if any sounds are coming from a chick on that roof, or one of the others. It's unsettling me.

I'm also unsettled as I don't know whether I should go to work tomorrow. Realistically, I don't think I should. I would have to leave for a 90 minute drive for a morning's training, leaving at 7.30am, before moving on to a prison visit (more driving) in the afternoon. I'm still exhausted, have had two naps today and feel bleurgh. So, logically, I know I shouldn't even be thinking about it. BUT I no longer feel like death, so feel guilty at being absent on sick. Plus I will have to phone in sick tomorrow and still struggle under the thought if you call in sick you should *sound* sick.

It's stupid. I won't have the energy to do a day's travelling. I am still worn out, I have some residual pain and I am wan. it is very unlikely that I shall go in, but I shall not sleep fretting about it, and I shall feel sick until I call, and guilty after I do. You can see why I have never ever 'pulled a sickie' in my life, can't you.

I just feel bleurgh in general today.

Oh, but to end on a positive note, I watched Raymond Blanc tonight and he is soooo slashy. He has a chef mini me assistant. (Sous chef? I don't know his rank) called Adam (Although Raymond pronounces it all French and sweet and A-dam) and they have a fun relationship. But today Raymond was chasing him with a spritzy water bottle. And then, as if this little bromance with Adam isn't enough, he went to an Australian butcher and whilst they were carving up some beef, the butcher was saying how the clavicle was "just the right shape to spank a french chef" and how he would like Raymond there "all the time to hold my meat." Later they were drinking beer together, with Raymond asking "Why is yours bigger than mine".

So there's that.

I have a ginormous fruit salad in the fridge. Every time I make it I tell an invisible audience how to slice the grapefruit. Not a cookery show type audience, just an invisible individual person. They never really seem interested and I can't say I blame them. I tell them the same thing every time. I have (different) conversations (not related to laundry technique) with a (different) person whenever I hang up laundry too. Not sure why. That person is a priest.

Erm.

Lunch tomorrow was going to be eggs, but I haven't any. So far I've cobbled together fruit salad, salted popcorn and dates. I'm sure that will be fine to see me through the day. As a happy by product of this search I've discovered how nicely dates and bacon go together.

I was going to watch a film today, but dithered too long over which to pick, so saw none.

I saw Les Miserables at the cinema on Thursday and really liked it, the running time flew by and it was grand. Mainly. But last night I sat down to watch it again and all I could see was Hugh Jackman's fleshy lips. It was a disappointment.

And I watched Ripper Street and might be beginning to ship Bennet and Jackson.

We have snow, but not as much as they keep telling us we're going to have. Which, I don't even like snow, but I can't help but feel cheated.

Work has been weird - Monday started by going in and finding out that one of the receptionists had been sacked abruptly late Friday, which was unsettling. It's sad that all the expressions of sympathy were empathic in nature, frather than genuinely upset that the particular person had gone. Sad too that the reactions went from "Gosh, really why?" to "who's covering her work?" very quickly. She was an odd and not overly pleasant person though, so I guess that's been reflected.

Anyway, after that, Tuesday there were men on the roof making ridiculous amounts of noise. Removing some form of structure, which resulted in Wednesday, walking into an office with caved in ceilings, debris and muck and much water everywhere. (Thankfully not my office space). Much dispute has arisen between contractors and management as to the extent and cause of damage. (contractors are positing the theory that it was a coincidental ceiling catastrophe and naught to do with their removing roof tiles and failing to secure any cover...)

Friday saw confirmation that, once again, they are moving staff around, shifting people's desks and locations and general disruption. Have yet to have any real explanation as to why. Of course, we all have so much free time that a few more days wasted packing up and relocating is not going to be a problem. \sarcasm.

Anyhoo.

On top of that it's been a crappy week, I've been speaking to Debs around the loss of her mother and it's heartbreaking just on a compassionate level, but of course, it's bringing far too much to the fore about Dad - and as a consequence I'm dreaming horribly (or about my late boss*, which is equally disturbing if not emotionally distressing) On a lighter note though, I did dream that my bathroom taps were possessed by an evil spirit so I attempted an exorcism by singing Amazing Grace at them...

I don't think Sam'n'Dean ought to try that anytime soon (although it would be amusing to watch, perhaps less so than the current eps!)

On the tv front - I'm watching; SPN, this week's episode was good, but emotionally bleak. H5O which was, well, rather ridiculous of course, but enjoyable nonetheless. Ripper Street - similarly ridiculous, but managing to seem believable while I watch and I really like it and I have Suits still to watch. Oh and Lewis! I don't like it in two halves and I don't like where it's going but I'm enjoying the journey, and there was a dramatic moment when Hathaway looked sooo young and vulnerable and oh.

And my tummy hurts still and I've been feeling bleak all week, but I bought myself a new duvet cover and I won £5 on a scratchcard and I'm trying t hold on to the bright side.

*did I mention that walking into work a couple of weeks back I clearly and distinctly heard his voice? There was just me in the corridor and two women in the staff room. Strange. He would have found the concept of haunting the place amusing though, so I'm not perturbed.

Belated Happy New Year. Lj was petulant every time I tried to post at an appropriate time, so I played it at its own game and stopped trying. Ha! I can outsulk you lj, anytime you like.

In the meantime, I have been to work - which was rubbish as usual. Oh, but the foul man - I saw him again (We bumped into him in the street over Christmas) and he started out aggressive, before moving on to quiz me about who I was out with when he saw me and what I did over Christmas. (A while ago he asked me if I knew what it was like to go through a divorce, I gave my standard answer that I don't talk about my personal life at work from which he has intuited (!) that I am divorced with children - he continues with this idea, I continue to give no information other than generalised "yes, I had a nice Christmas"). I then had to talk to him about a missed appointment, making it clear that a second missed apt would result in a return to Court, he was sulky about this. Then announced "You need to find another job." He repeated himself, then added "You're too good for Probation. I like you."

UGH UGH UGH.

Who'd have thought I pined for threats!

Work aside there was a New Year's Eve. Which was quiet but I can't be bothered to write about it. I was going to comment on the Jools Holland programme, but I realise I can't spell it. It was enjoyable anyway!

I have made some resolves and am going to do a book for them in a minute. If I get organised enough I will scan it.

Oh, I watched The Hobbit. Not in the cinema, I wasn't overly interested really, but then it became available and I thought I might as well and it far exceeded my expectations. (I had none, well, I expected to be bored). I have no knowledge of the source (I should read it really) and so none of it offended me and although there were bits that I initially wasn't clear on (I struggled to tell Orcs and Goblins apart for a while) I did enjoy it and even have interest and anticipation for seeing the next installments. Hell, be truthful, I'm even tempted to watch it again. Plus Richard Armitage is very easy on the eye.

Miranda - I watched her too (twice) and enjoyed it muchly.

The decorations (such that they were) came down in all locations I am linked to - at work I was called "The Bauble Police" because I insisted they came down Friday so as not to pass Twelfth Night.

I have increased medication for my ulcer issues, I have multi vitamins and I have a headache.

I was succesfully outbid on something on ebay that I bid impulsively for and regretted. (Joules did a breakfast giftset for Christmas. I wanted the bowls that came with it but wasn't overly bothered by the box of porridge oats, the toast racks or the eggcups (I already have the eggcups). I was going to buy it half price in the sale, but they sold out. I became a bit obsessed, found it on ebay and bid in a moment of ridiculousness - thankfully someone was even more silly than me and outbid me (paying more than full price ultimately PLUS postage.) The bowls are pretty though.)

Then I undone the good work by paying £36 on a dish drainer. £36! More stupidity, provoked by a "I have a coupon to get £10 off if I spend £50 and I want the cheap perfume (that was a bargain at half price) and I need to buy something else to take it over £50 and... yes, I know it's rubbish. My bank account is struggling after Christmas anyway and I need to economise not buy unneeded things. On the other hand it is very pretty.

I shan't tell you about the sink tidy I bought to go with it, or the new duvet cover.

( okayness )

( rubbishness )

I have also grown, over the last few weeks to hate the colour of every single one of my walls. I have no desired colour springing up in my mind, just a generous hatred of every tone and shade. Most loathed are the bathroom (dark blue) and the front room (shades of green). I might paint everything pink. I probably won't.

The sky keeps rumbling like it has indigestion.

There are neighbours on the corner of the street involved in an altercation. When I arrived home they were standing there in some kind of four way stand off. Then they made peace, then they started shouting, then they threatened to call the police, now they're yelling, then they stop. Someone is now alternating between yelling "F*ck you" and "I love you" and it's horribly unsettling. This is also the house with the person that I had to do an induction for at work, so I'm doubly disconcerted.

I've been feeling rubbish all week, very low - that kind of oppressive mist of melancholy and apathy.

So I've spent all week putting off booking a hair cut - which means when I did book, the only free slot was at 8.45 tomorrow. I hate mornings!

I had other plans for the week, diy plans, or cupboard sorting or... and all I've done is sit under my duvet reading, or sorting things at mother's. We got rid of a spare wardrobe yesterday, and two record players of Dad's - which makes me feel pointlessly guilty.

I watched tv too. H50 was ridiculous, having abandoned any degree of plausibility, but most of it enjoyably so. ( SPN )
Oh and that sitcom,is it Partners? I've deleted the episodes so I can't remember, but the pilot was awful (in a sweet and desperately sad way) and yet I've watched the subsequent two episodes and they've gotten better and it's working and yes. Oh and TBBT, I watched that too, but that's been a bit meh. It sounds as if I've watched loads of telly, but apart from GBBO, that's all I've watched.

I love GBBO, Everything about it (except Brendan), even the close ups of snails. Sainsbury's sell merchandise for the show, and GBBO looks rather uncouth, especially lain against bucolic countryside backgrounds as it is.

We went to Sainsbury's and bought cakes. They were on an offer and so we had three each (for the week not just one day.) Mum bought 3 of the same cake, I went for variety. Consequently Mum had three eclairs to eat, reliable and consistent. I had three different cakes, none of which were in the slightest bit nice.

The neighbours are still shouting.