emma

Lent

Sun, 02 Apr 2006 21:18:00 GMT

This is embarrassing.

If you're the nice anonymous person leaving sweet comments about the blog (or lack of) would you mail me, already? The address is down there on the left, somewhere.

Hell, mail me anyhow.

No, really.

a pause for thought

Sat, 11 Mar 2006 17:41:56 GMT

I'm just stopping to wonder why on earth I write this. Is it really a good idea?

I'm not so sure at the moment.

[Edited for clarity]

two things

Sun, 05 Mar 2006 12:24:35 GMT

1) My next-door neighbours had friends over last night, and whist they weren't exactly loud, whatever they were doing involved almost constant *whooping*. I am still puzzling over what it was. My best guess is currently Irish dancing. I do not think that this is an especially good guess.

2) The new curtains completely transform the downstairs of my house. The old curtains were long and dark, and these are short and light. They're lovely actually; but I'm finding it vaguely unsettling, as though I don't live in *my* house any more.

open or wrapped?

Sat, 04 Mar 2006 19:53:27 GMT

obligatory beach hut shot
Originally uploaded by etcher67.

I'm not exactly sure where this is. Hove, possibly. Jones eventually appeared two hours late this morning (must remember in future to take *two* hours off her given arrival time instead of one) and after I had chided her for a good thirty seconds ('hello darling - you're bloody hopeless, you are')we drove in the general direction of Brighton with the intention of going to a place called Shoreham-by-sea. Which by some odd quirk of fate is not included in the index of my road map. I've wanted to go there ever since I saw a photograph of it on someone's flickr page. It wasn't until we were halfway there that I realised the photo was of wet pebbles and a starfish, which though picturesque is hardly a good measure of what a place will be like (although - starfish...can't really go wrong can you?). We managed to find the place on the map though, and set off with the idea that it was 'slightly to the left of Brighton' . Anyone who knows me well will realise that this is in no way guaranteed that I would turn in the right direction when I got to Brighton; because 'left' depends entirely upon which way up the map happens to be, doesn't it?

By a spectacular stroke of good fortune the M25 was actually flowing, so it took about an hour and a half to get to the outskirts of Brighton, whereapon traffic jam-related panic struck and I hoved off towards Worthing. Jones assured me that this was in fact completely in the opposite direction to Shoreham, so when a signpost appeared I allowed myself a brief moment of triumph. I may even have cheered.

Further small mercies had us stumble vaguely down to the town, to a car pack with actual spaces, and into a chip shop, all with disturbing ease. The appearance of an empty bench in the sun overlooking quaint little bobbing boats had me swearing to buy a lottery ticket tonight (I forgot, dammit). Several charity shops, a chelsea bun and more cups of tea than strictly necessary later, Jones insisted I find her some proper seaside. By this time I had taken to muttering 'passive aggressive' under my breath at her, though in a loving way.

Once again we found beach huts and a parking space with no difficulty. Jones routemarched me up and down the beach ('it's good for you, Emms') while I stumbled about putting stones in my pockets and taking cliched photographs. There was a period of comedy running for which I must take complete credit, though Jones practised more. My performance was so stunning that a small child almost dropped her ice cream: so a job well done, in my opinion. We lay on the shingle and looked at the moon, and then had a stone throwing competition. It was a draw.

A speedy drive back up the motorway and I am home, with achy legs and no real need for dinner. I declare the trip to the seaside a resounding success.

ooh look, the sun's shining

Sat, 04 Mar 2006 11:28:12 GMT

Friends for dinner last night, which was lovely - and the good thing about six women eating together is that the clearing up process is extremely painless. Fortunately I wasn't one of the girls who 'wasn't eating' so I have no guilt issues this morning about the fact that my jeans feel a little *tight*. And profiteroles for breakfast is all part of a healthy balanced diet, innit?

We were up til about 2am gossiping and plotting. It's a special skill of teachers that they can talk shop for seven hours, on top of a full day's work. I don't think we talked about anything else all night. If we did no doubt it was food.

All in all a really lovely evening. It turns out that staying up til 2 and drinking twice the normal amount makes seemingly simple tasks like hanging curtains extremely challenging. Still, they're up. Last night John Lewis rang and mollified me by promising to deliver them *early*. Bloody early. I had a wonderful fifteen minutes when I thought I didn't have a hangover because my head hadn't caught up with my body and rushed around opening boxes and tidying up until I wilted in front of the computer and had to go back to bed.

I'm supposed to be going to the seaside with Jones, but she's already an hour and a half late. Bloody students.

kill kill die die slash slash slash

Fri, 03 Mar 2006 17:55:07 GMT

According to the couriers my curtains got delivered to the branch, because ' we weren't given an address'.
'I gave an address' sez I through gritted teeth.
'You'll have to take that up with the branch, Miz Clark' sez them, cheerily.
I call the branch. I point out that I was there when I gave the order and that I GAVE MY ADDRESS.
'Why yes of course you did, we don't accept orders without an address' sez the branch.

Somebody is shitting me. Who can I hit? Seriously. I've been sitting on my butt here all day waiting waiting waiting and now I really really NEED someone to hit. They stole my day off. They must die.

'oover 'oover 'oover

Fri, 03 Mar 2006 12:00:42 GMT

I am trapped in the house waiting for a delivery. There is only so much cleaning a girl can do, and really I want to go out to a cafe to draw and drink coffee, and I want to go to the library. Instead I am sitting around contemplating the possibility that I need a new hoover as mine has ceased to suck; and the fact that I may have to wait til 6pm for the van to arrive. Booooh.

IP logging is off. Ask me a question, tell me a secret. Post anonymously. Go on: i'm boored.

squeak

Fri, 03 Mar 2006 09:03:32 GMT

Repeat after me: the only good mouse is a dead mouse.

The little bastards have chewed through the bit of wood I blocked up the hole with, and my kitchen is once again under mouse-attack (Who am I kidding - *the* hole? This house is like swiss cheese). I made the ultimate sacrifice last night during the break in my signing class and didn't finish my Kit Kat Chunky so I could bait the mouse trap. The major insult is that the chocolate is still sitting there untouched this morning. My chocolate.

I guess I'll browse the 'used cats' pages again, then.

a brief moment of grammatical angst

Wed, 01 Mar 2006 21:00:31 GMT

DJ's, CD's, LSA's aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

I watched bad films this weekend

Mon, 27 Feb 2006 19:31:25 GMT

I was going to write long intelligent reviews but you know what? I can't be arsed. So:

Kinky Boots - ought to have been visually exciting, funny or even romantic but failed, failed, failed.
Millions - ought to have made it's mind up whether to be a heist film, an 'Our Ma's dead' film or a seriously surreal portrait of how primary schools really really aren't. Actually it managed the latter, but who wants to see a film about that?

In other news I finally started to find 24 (series 1) exciting. It's taken 6 episodes. I forsee an evening on the sofa with Keifer. Marvellous.

well, that's a relief then

Sun, 26 Feb 2006 13:41:05 GMT

stolen from juggzy

My dna report

the world is all that is the case

Sun, 26 Feb 2006 11:58:01 GMT

I found a bookcrossing book!

Wittgenstein in 90 minutes. Who knew I needed to learn about Wittgenstein? Not me. Still, I go where the wind blows me...

and the shark has teeth like razors

Fri, 24 Feb 2006 19:22:34 GMT

I went to Bexleyheath for lunch. And to go to the library.

When I came out of the library the Jive Aces were playing. In the freezing cold, with matching grey overcoats over their matching blue zoot suits.

The Jive Aces? In Bexleyheath Broadway? With a big banner saying 'Say no to drugs and yes to life'?

You couldn't make it up.

kitchen bathroom kitchen bathroom...house renovation equivocation

Fri, 24 Feb 2006 16:40:54 GMT

Both my kitchen and my bathroom are in serious need of a rebuild....and it's a question of which to do first. I reckon I need a new boiler too, as mine is patently 20 years old, and it'd probably be good to have one which was vaguely energy efficient, plus I could then get rid of the HUUGE cupboard in the bathroom containing the water tank, as I'll change to one of those instant hot water ones.

So. Boiler in kitchen, big huge water tank in bathroom. If i'm replacing the boiler, does it make more sense to do the kitchen, or the bathroom first? The kitchen is undoubtedly the bigger job, as virtually...no, everything will need to be ripped out (and I'm trying not to think about the artex walls and ceiling).

There's so much to do....kitchen bathroom bedrooms hall bannisters...I may have to lie down before my head bursts.

work work

Fri, 24 Feb 2006 10:21:10 GMT

It's work your hours day today. Apparently teachers do an average of eleven hours unpaid overtime a week (I do my very best to bring the average down..) , and pretty much everyone else I know is working more time for less money these days.

So - take your full breaks, and go home on time today!

snowing: a proper english weather post

Thu, 23 Feb 2006 08:14:02 GMT

Good grief it's cold.
I am on the case. I am wearing a vest.

...also

Wed, 22 Feb 2006 19:21:13 GMT

I have just this minute noticed that my newly downloaded LJ updatey-clienty thingy has a button marked 'console'.

I clicked it, just in case...but it didn't. Damn ;)

booklust

Wed, 22 Feb 2006 19:05:59 GMT

I went to Bexleyheath Library today, mainly as an excuse to get out of school for half an hour. It's about seven times the size of Plumstead Library - the education section (in which I stood entirely by accident I can assure you) is about the same size as the fiction section at Plumstead. The fiction section was divided into genres. The reference section has an entire floor, instead of three shelves. In other words: it's big.

I can't tell you how exciting this is. My horizons have just expanded by a power of...loads. I am going to rush back there tomorrow with my two forms of identity so I can get a ticket as soon as possible. Then I can go and lurk there for HOURS. If I could justify it, I'd buy a laptop just so I could sit there and use the wi-fi...

It's a thrill being single, it really is.

take me to your leader

Sun, 19 Feb 2006 12:57:50 GMT

favela, girl at bar
Originally uploaded by etcher67.

As I arrive in Charing Cross only slightly late to meet Sarah for a curry I get a text: 'Want to meet up with some friends at a gastro pub near me?' Well no, frankly. I spend three or four minutes standing against a pillar breathing hard and not composing texts that say 'Why, is dinner with me too boring?' and finally come up with a reply that complains about the ruinous cost of tube journeys when you didn't get a travelcard. Lame excuse but basically true and it does the trick, or so I think. And I know it isn’t actually Sarah that suspects I might be boring.

Sarah arrives at the bar and offers me a taxi ride to the restaurant that her friends are at. I accept. Apart from the fact that I really do have to start going out with more than one person at a time, after 20 years in London I am still pitifully excited by the prospect of a Black cab ride. They’re so reassuringly out of my budget. We nudge across the city at about a pound a metre until we reach Favela, which apparently is an achingly trendy new Franco-Brazilian place where the pretty people of EC2 get selected from a queue to get in. It’s OK though, says Sarah, Pete goes there all the time, he knows the maitre d’, we have a reservation. Lucky: I don’t have my queue-jumping head with me. I left it back in 1984.

Inside what must have once been a bank they have East London shabby chic down to a very fine art. Old doors and planks decorate the walls, as well as exotic plants, mirrors, old light fittings and a spattering of what would be street art, were it outside. There’s skip-built tables around the edge of the room, a bar with painted prices on the ripped-wallpaper wall and a large dance floor in the middle of the room. It can’t decide whether to be a restaurant or a club. Sarah tells me that before this there was a ‘normal’ bar. Whoever decorated has spent ages making it look as though they broke into an abandoned building through the back door, though what kind of building it was supposed to be remains unclear. It looks like a squat: a well-heeled squat without the utilities issues. I like it, though I am intimidated by the boiled-clothes and converse trainers brigade who are hanging out on the assortment of kitsch sofas and chairs. These are not my people, I think. Who the fuck are my people?

As it happens the people that I am to dine with are unboiled lawyers and bankers, cheerful on rum, promotions and bonus day. I smile and dodge away from the bonus issue; mindful that last time I saw Peter I treated him to a full five minute in-his-face rant on teachers’ pay. He looks nervous too. Poor Pete – A year on I suspect he was just trying to express admiration for my profession. He didn't know my bark was hiding a bite. As it happens neither did I, but the damage was still done.

Everyone laughs when I point out that as the only Englishwoman around the table I am for once in my life the exotic one, and the tension drops a little. The tuberose-scented lawyer next to me begins grilling me. I answer awkwardly, unsure why anyone would want to know this stuff, and about five questions in realise that she isn’t actually interviewing me and that it might be a plan to ask some questions back. This is why I need to go out with groups of people: I need the bloody practise; I’ve forgotten what to do. She’s nice, and so is her jolly husband, who has been bemoaning his ‘reclining’ hair. He confounds every prejudice I’ve ever entertained about humourless Germans.

At some point in the evening I notice the DJ booth, which is perched up above the door to the building like an observation tower, guarded by planking and with only a ladder for access. I point him out to Sarah and begin telling her what fun it is to DJ, to be in control of the music and therefore the mood, to be able to see everyone, to be both included in the room and removed from it. It hasn’t really occurred to me until this moment just how much I love doing it, how much I’d love to do it again. I spend some time later standing by the bar watching the punters from the floor, and contemplate catching the DJ’s eye and offering him a drink, just so that I can get myself up the ladder for a look from up there. The moment passes and just as I begin to think that maybe I could settle in here someone is fetching my coat, someone has paid for my dinner, someone is arranging me a free taxi share back to London Bridge with Tuberose and the Jolly German. Bonus day.

in which Emma finally gets used to the idea of being on holiday and announces a posting frenzy

Fri, 17 Feb 2006 17:17:34 GMT

I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

Yesterday I finished an appalling piece of trash called 'Sophie's Bakery for the Broken Hearted'. It was great: romance, death and cake.
Today I just finished 'The Lost Garden' by Helen Humphreys, an altogether more cerebral little number about death and gardening. I've got a Penelope Lively thing to start which I have a nasty feeling has a death theme too (guess I was in that sort of mood at the library yesterday) so i'm going to save it until I have read another piece of trash by Lisa Jewell called 'Vince and Joy'. I bet no-one dies in *that*. I bet they all live happily ever after.

What are you reading?

and I'll feed your obsession

Fri, 17 Feb 2006 11:38:00 GMT

Is it just me that can waste hours fast forwarding through tunes on iTunes?

Pinned to my chair by 'ooh, I'll just listen to that next one...no not that one *click* ..or that one *click* ..or that one *click*..or that one *click* ' through endless tracks until something hits the spot.

I'm leaving, I'm leaving, I'm really really leaving...

Just one more, then.

ish

Thu, 16 Feb 2006 19:29:49 GMT

Today I have mainly read a book.

All of it.

I think I'll start another one, now.

it's not all doom and gloom at the homesick restaurant

Wed, 15 Feb 2006 20:38:32 GMT

Good things about today:

A two hour lunch with rougeforever
Including mussels
Bannofi pie
And giggling
Sam the Cheese's wellies
Being stalked by Tom
AND Siobhan
Lionel's earring shop
And swaying from the path [sic]

Not so good things about today:

The smell in Catwoman's house
That deodorant and cat piss combination
With a top note of foetid catfood.

It's quite put me off.

it's a meme

Tue, 14 Feb 2006 23:24:52 GMT

Childhood meme nicked from chiller

1. What was the first car your family had?
The first one I remember was a Ford Capri. It was my Dad's company car. Yellow, very racy. We used to beg him to overtake people.

2. What was the name of your first pet and why?
Mrs Robinson. She was called Robinson until somoene realised he was a she.

3. What did you want to be when you grew up?
An opera singer. This is a great way to make friends in the playground. No: really.

4. What was the name of your elementary school?
If that means primary, I can't remember any before Totnes Church School which I started when we moved to Devon.

5. Who was your first best friend?
Trishie Wells.

6. Are you still friends today, and if not, what happened?
No. She went back to Australia when I was 7. Probably that's where my abandonment issues spring from (!!)

7. What was your favorite board game?
Never been a big fan. Monopoly? Cluedo?

8. Did you play house or other make believe games?
Not house. Make believe? Whaddaya mean *did*?

9. Were you a Dungeons and Dragons geek?
Only briefly when I fancied one *ahem*. Sheesh, nothing changes.

10. Did you sleep with stuffed animals as a kid?
Nope

11. Do you still sleep with stuffed animals?
I started when I was 34. I'm not proud.

12. Who was the first person you looked up to when you were younger?
My Dad.

13. Who was your favorite relative?
Grampy.

14. Were you short or tall in elementary school?
Short, short, short.

15. Were you teased in school?
I wanted to be an opera singer FFS, of course I was teased.

16. What was the name of your favorite teacher?
Wendy Newman. My art teacher.

17. What was the name of your least favorite teacher?
Mr Clake the arse who threw me out of geography. I still hate you, Mr Clake, AND I got top marks in my exam just to PISS YOU OFF. Old grudges die hard :) God, I was a cow in his classes. God, they were boring. He so deserved it.

18. What was your best subject in school?
Art, then Human Biology, then English. I shamelessly did well in classes only when I liked the teacher, from which sprang my entire theory of teaching.

19. What was your worst subject in school?
Maths. Not enough pictures.

20. Did you do well in Physical Education?
Ha ha ha ha NOOOOOO

21. Were you clumsy when you were younger?
I walked into things - I got glasses. I still walked into things. Draw your own conclusions.

22. Who was your favorite band as a kid?
David Bowie. After I got over the David Cassidy thing.

23. What was your favorite movie as a kid?
Time Bandits

24. Did your parents read to you?
Yes.

25. Did you have a favorite book?
I read voraciously. My favourite thing was a PILE of books.

26. What was your favorite restaurant as a kid?
We didn't go to restaurants. I regarded Wimpy as an exotic unobtainable dream.

27. What TV or movie star did you have a crush on?
None.

28. Do you now wonder what you were thinking?
Yeah. What a waste of all those crushing years...

29. Who was your first crush in school?
David Morgan. He wore eyeliner and fancied himself even more than I fancied him. Oh, and Felix Vowles whom I used to wish would fall into the swimming pool so I could rescue him.

30. As a child, what kind of car did you want when you grew up?
A Morris Minor. I was such a hippy.

31. Did your parents spank you?
I remember the threats but I don't actually remember being smacked.

32. Did your parents fight a lot when you were a kid?
I don't remember it. It's a family rule to repress, so maybe they never did.

33. Did your parents get divorced or stay married?
Stayed married. Happily, too.

34. If they got divorced, how old were you when it happened?
n/a

35. Did you ever run away from home?
Yeah. The first time I was sent back by someone who said she wasn't about to be had up for harbouring, the second I got about 200 yards before I realised it was a futile gesture.

36. How old were you when/if you first got glasses?
A toddler.

37. Did you need braces or a retainer?
Braces

38. When did you get your period or hit puberty?
14. Just before a holiday in Cornwall. My Mum mentioned it this weekend and managed to make it sound as though I did it deliberately.

39. Both sexes: when did you start shaving?
About the same age, I guess.

40. Girls: when did you start wearing a bra?
Erm about 14, I think. I remember undoing it in the middle of a hockey lesson becuause it was so bloody uncomfortable, and being told by a friend of someone's mother that it was 'like wearing a harness' I kind of gave up the bra thing after that, for about 15 years.

41. What was your first kiss like?
Like kissing a dishcloth. Godawful.

42. What did you do on your first date?
I'm yet to have my first date.

43. How old were you when you first drank?
16, I think. Lager and lime. Euch.

44. Where was your first house?
Abingdon. Unless the one I live in now counts as *my* first house.

45. What kind of lunch box did you bring to school?
A Tupperware one.

46. What were you scared of when you were little?
Everyone else. Faces at windows. The dark.

47. When and what was your first bad word?
I remember everyone at secondary school discovering swearing in the first year, but I can't remember which one came first. Shit and fuck, I guess.

48. What was your favorite outfit when you were a kid?
I still miss that multicoloured patchwork shirt. Especially as someone else ironed it.

49. What was your nickname as a kid?
Emmeleina, Emmeline, Em.

50. Which of these things embarrass you the most?
None of it, really. Though the swimming pool thing is somewhat cringeworthy.

miaow

Tue, 14 Feb 2006 22:28:23 GMT

Tomorrow I'm going to see a cat. It's not the cat I originally rang up about, it's the cat of a friend of the first cat's owner. (Read it again, it makes sense, honest.)

That counts as a blind date, right?