Road Kill

God updating your blog lapses when you’re in the middle of moving and you don’t have proper access to the internet. We still don’t, but we are in our new flat, hurrah! Last Wednesday was a bit hectic since our van men were an hour and a half late due to getting an accident on the way (bodes well). They were also not as good as the first guy who moved me and seemed to take issue with having to actually pick stuff up. Um…that’s your job guys. Still, we got in eventually and then Max had to go back to work and I attempted to put the place in order. It’s an ongoing process, but we have a wardrobe now, another hurrah!

I took Friday off work to get stuff done and also because I was headed to a roller derby boot camp. My afternoon did not go to plan as I was rudely knocked down by a cyclist and ended up sitting in the back of an ambulance for a bit. I did not get flashing lights though as it didn’t go anywhere. I’d like it noted that I WAS COMPLETELY IN THE RIGHT! I was crossing the road on the green man like a good girl and he was coming the wrong way down a one way street. I would generally look both ways before crossing but on a green man on a one way I didn’t. He yelled but was going so fast I didn’t have time to do anything before he smacked into me and I hit the floor. Hard. With my right elbow. I’d just been to pick up some bits for the flat and can only assume the oven tins took the brunt of the hit on my left side as I don’t seem to be hurt there, and I don’t think I hit my head.

I burst into tears from the shock but people were very nice and helped me out of the street and got me some water. The cyclist stopped too but didn’t seem that bothered honestly, and then police came, possibly community support officers I dunno. They were taking all our statements and then cyclist sped off, with one officer in pursuit, but he got away. I find this amusing now, but not so much then.

Initially I said I didn’t need an ambulance but in the end agreed to be looked over, and they were very nice too and I am fine just bruised and shaken. I still went to the boot camp and only fell on my elbow once. I would write more about it but since the majority of what I have to say is negative I should keep my mouth shut, lest I be breaking any roller derby rules. The good things were mainly getting to hang out with my fellow Rec Leaguers and laugh a lot (and moan about the boot camp) and also one brilliant lesson that spread over the two days and was really helpful, about default strategy and how to always be useful on the track.

In other derby news I can now register my skate name. If only I had one.

3D Can Suck It

Last night I went to see Toy Story 3 at the Odeon on Tottenham Court Road. Not my first choice of cinema I must say, since it’s often crowded and has tiny screens, but it was the best place for meeting up with friends. I also wouldn’t have gone to see it in 3D had there been a 2D option, but there wasn’t. There was a long queue outside when I got there as it was Orange Wednesday, something I always forget about, not being with Orange. I managed to get through and into the cinema and find they had one measly ticket machine (one? Come on cinemas, sort it out, some of us don’t like to queue for a person and no I don’t want popcorn thank you). I cringed at the inflated ticket prices, forgetting again that 3D is more expensive (£12.95!!) and still unsure what exactly it is I’m paying extra for, but hey, it’s a treat. We go in just as the trailers are about to start, when I realise we don’t have our 3D glasses. Must have missed them.

So I go off in search, and ask a bloke, and he looks at my receipt and says ‘You have to pay for them.’ What? So I go back and get my purse and then go queue for the stupid specs, and finally make it back to my seat in time to see trailers for the 5 or 6 other 3D films that are coming out shortly. 3D films I will not be going to see. Mostly because they look rubbish, and unnecessary, but also because I’m fed up.

I’m taking a stand. It may be a pathetic little stand, but it’s mine and I’m making it. No more 3D films for me at the cinema. I just don’t think it’s worth it. I can understand watching a film like Avatar in 3D, because it was made to be watched that way, and it was amazing to see, but the majority of 3D films coming out now weren’t intended to be viewed in that way, they’re just jumping on the bandwagon, hoping to rake in more money. Anything that can even slightly be made 3D now is, it doesn’t matter if it adds nothing to the film. Ticket prices are expensive enough as it is, especially in London, where you’re talking almost a tenner for an adult ticket in Central London, not including Leicester Square cinemas which can make you faint with the price. If you’re a family of four or more, how can you afford to go regularly, since most 3D films are of the kiddie friendly variety? You must be talking £50+ for one outing.

And then there’s paying for the glasses. I understand that they say you can keep them and then not have to pay the next time, fine. But not every cinema chain has the same policy. Hell, not every cinema within the same chain has the same policy. Some you pay, some are free and you hand them back at the end. Are you supposed to remember which does which? Are you supposed to carry them around with you in case? It would also be helpful if it had said I had to pay for and collect my glasses from the counter when I was paying for my ticket at the machine. But it didn’t, there was no info at all.

I probably take going to the cinema far too seriously, but it’s something that I love to do and that is becoming less and less fun the older I get. Maybe it is just my age, I’m a fuddy-duddy. But if I’m paying that much to see a film I can’t go as often as I would like to, so when I go I’d like to really enjoy the experience. Most of the time it’s not as fun as it should be. So now I settle for watching the DVD in the comfort of my own home. At least there I can snack on food that isn’t ridiculously marked up, not have someone kicking the back of my chair, or talking loudly throughout, or answering their phone. And I can watch it in 2D, the way my rubbish eyes prefer.

Your Perfume is My Poison

I am in a bit of a grump this morning. I shouldn’t be, since it is Friday, and since in about a week I will be going on holiday (boo yah!), but I’m in a grump anyway because I have a headache and feel sick. And I feel this way because someone in the office is wearing perfume. She’s only in the office once a month but I dread it. I don’t know what her perfume is but it’s a scent that just kills me. It’s very flowery and…thick, is the only way I can think to describe it. She is in an office down the hall and I feel like I am sitting in a fog. That just seems mental to me. I can just about understand the desire to wear perfume (even though it seems like a pointless exercise to me, to each their own and all that), but do you really need to smother yourself in it? Should I really be able to smell you from all the way down there? Should I be able to know you’ve been here by your lingering scent? I don’t think so.

I am obviously a delicate little flower. I have skin problems anyway, with eczema and cat allergies and having to use products that were made for babies and anything with a tiny amount of perfume in it can make me flare up. Much fun. I have had it since birth and though ‘they’ said I might grow out of it, I haven’t. If anything it gets worse the older I get. Or maybe this flowery perfume is a new phenomenon. It seems to be very popular at the moment. I spend a lot of my time on my bus journeys unable to escape it, wishing I had sat somewhere else, contemplating moving to get some air. I know I shouldn’t begrudge people their desire to express themselves through perfume, but it’s hard when you’re sitting there trying not to vomit, when your head feels like it is full of the stuff and your brain is slowly suffocating.

So I come here and moan about it instead. Perhaps I will feel better now. I think, thankfully, my colleague is only here for half the day, so that’s a silver lining then.

But did I mention I’m going on holiday next week? I cannot wait!

Frickin Volcanoes

Last Wednesday I flew up to Glasgow for a work conference where I would be selling books. I flew because it was cheaper (which shocks me) and quicker than getting the train. Or it would be quicker if a volcano didn’t erupt and ground all flights in your country meaning you might be trapped in Glasgow for the foreseeable future. I mean, a volcano? Honestly, what are the odds? (This is a rhetorical question, should you actually happen to know the odds.) I didn’t even know about it until Friday morning, not having access to the internet and having only four TV channels in my room. Yes, I could have complained but I had DVDs and so was mostly fine, until I was faced with ‘The Day The Skies Stood Still’ on the front of the Metro paper Friday morning. What? I spent the rest of that day frantically trying to find out information and whether my flight was still on or how I would get back otherwise. I was expecting a mad rush on train tickets and, though Glasgow was very lovely, I really wanted to get home.

In the end it was fine though. I managed to book myself on a train, once I knew my flight was indeed never going to take off. I do like BA’s text they send you, which basically says ‘Your flight has been cancelled. Soz.’ And then I spent much of Saturday wanting to pack up the books and being annoyed by people wanting to buy things, so I could leave early and make sure I would get on my train. (I had a ten minute window at Edinburgh and that was just too nerve wracking for me.) I feel like this is nature’s way of saying ‘Ha! Carbon footprint ner ner ner.’ Yes, I should have just got the train in the first place. I’ll never do it again. Maybe.

The book fair was very slow. The volcano meant about 100 people didn’t make it, but I know we did better than some of the other publishers, who didn’t sell anything. The first day was mainly registration and no tea or coffee on. Refreshments are key at these sort of things, and I was positioned next to them, which is good in that you get loads of people storming past to get to them, and so good foot traffic. But then you also get people with mugs of hot liquid and grubby, greasy hands, standing pawing your books and spilling on them. And then using your table as a place to discard their leftovers. Honestly, some people.

Anyway, I am aware that I am very lucky, as I at least had the option of the train, and could stay on at the hotel at work’s expense if I needed to. A lot of people are stranded all over the place with no idea when they’ll be home, and with no money for hotels etc. It must be awful. Half our office is elsewhere at the moment. Two colleagues are in the US, having gone last week for the sales conference, and won’t be back til Wednesday at the earliest. Another was on holiday in Morocco, not sure when he’ll be back. But he’s quite happily wining and dining Richard Branson’s mother. Because of course he is. Also, it’s the London Book Fair this week, which will likely be very quiet, and as none of the US folk are coming over we’ll have to sort that.

We could all do with this chap to ferry people about, but it seems he’s too busy listening to bagpipes to offer assistance. Lazy.

List O’ Things

1. I think (touch wood) my cold is coming to an end. I can breathe through my nose again. Well, one nostril. No one seems as excited by this as I am. I guess that’s understandable. I made it into work on Tuesday, which may have been a mistake as I felt even worse yesterday. So I worked from home, having figured out my logmein problems. I think I should always be allowed to work from my bed wearing my pjs while the tv plays in the background. I did actually get stuff done too.

2. Unfortunately this lying about has led to me being sucked into Celebrity Big Brother. I am disappointed in myself. I can’t help it though. Stephen Baldwin has quickly jumped onto my most hated list, right next to his brother. But I can’t stop listening to the crap he spouts. He sounds mental. He talks in such a weirdly sort of breathless way constantly about God. I am hoping Vinnie Jones lamps him one at some point.

3. I have started swapping books through Read It Swap It and have so far received two books, with three on the way. I like it, though they are a bit militant about sending your book within two days damn it! And this added to my guilt when I was poorly.

4. As I have been working at my job for five years now, I get five extra days holiday. On one hand, this is great, more time off. On the other, I have been here five years. Someone take me out back and shoot me.

5. Last night I watched He’s Just Not That Into You, for reasons unknown to myself, and wanted to slap just about every woman who came on screen. Do women really act this way? Would you really tell a friend who is considering a relationship with a married man that he might leave his wife for her because you know a man who did and married the woman he was having an affair with, and they have been married happily for twenty years? What does this achieve? Oh, just the tip of the iceberg with how awful and clingy and psycho we all are. Especially when it comes to our desire to get married.

6. I cannot for the life of me find some nice winter boots. It turns out I am unbelievably picky for someone who doesn’t give a shit about shoes. I want ankle boots, that are warm, and preferably black. I think I’m veering towards lace up, but they don’t have to be as long as they are nice. You wouldn’t think that would be too much to ask, but can I find any? No. Grr. Poor little frozen feet.

Umm, I think that’s it. My nose is very sore, but I do feel a lot better.

The Universe Can Suck It

Day 2 of The First Cold of the Year. I am bored already. This is not how I wanted to spend my last couple of days off work. Not that I’d be doing much more than lying on my bed drinking tea, watching crap and hating the world if I were well, but still. I hate being poorly. And you can tell I am poorly because not only did I buy cold medicine, I am actually taking it. Fat lot of good it’s doing me, but usually I will buy it and leave it on the side because it tastes gross/I have an irrational fear of choking to death on tablets. The headache and gross nose are worse than tablet fear.

The one thing I hate most about colds is the not sleeping. I am no good without sleep, and last night it was around 3 am before my body finally gave in and I drifted off, my bed awash with tissues. Then I woke up at 8 am. Guh. Those tablets I’m taking, what would be in them? Oh yes, caffeine. Add that to the 400 cups of tea I drank yesterday and that may have added to the problem. Plus the whole ‘Oh god I cannot breathe!! Woe woe.’ I am a pathetic sick person.

At some point I am going to have to venture out and buy supplies, but for now I am hunkering down with The West Wing and a game of Zelda. I have spirit tracks to restore.

R.I.P

I woke up this morning and just knew it was going to be a bad day. I think my first thought was ‘Fuck, it’s Monday’. I should have snoozed for another ten minutes. Instead I stumbled into the kitchen, grabbed my mug from the side…and dropped it. It hit the side of the sink and I stood for a minute thinking, ‘Nah, it’ll be fine’, but I knew, it was a goner. I slowly turned it and there it was, a big chunk missing and a crack down the side. Into the bin it went.

I am sad. It was the perfect size for tea. It’s my favourite. My mum bought it me years go and it has been with me through many moves and survived intact. I hate myself. I’m such a moron.

So goodbye lil Pooh mug, see ya old chum. You’ve been a good companion. Always there when I needed you, brightening my mornings, there before I went to sleep…

Here he is in better days, helping to showcase a crap little hat I had knitted.

I wonder if I can find one the same. Alas, I think it was from Woolworths.

I Hear You Knocking But You Can’t Come In

I suffer from migraines. Have I said before that I get migraines? I do tend to repeat myself. Well on Friday I had a doozy.  I had been out for dinner with one set of friends and was supposed to meet others for drinks, when I hit a brick wall tiredness-wise, and since I was meeting everyone for breakfast the next day I thought I’d just go home and go to bed early. This was a good call. The bus terminated before my stop, always annoying, but I could deal with a 20 min walk. Except…uh oh…I have a blind spot in my vision. It’s from the car lights right? It’s not a migraine. No way it would be a migraine right now…oh yeah, shit, it is. And so I stumbled home like a blind person, my right arm sort of out in front of me, so I didn’t run into anything. It’s such a strange experience, these flashing lights going off, obscuring your vision. It’s also scary, seeing as people would appear in front of me almost out of nowhere and startle me. Plus, crossing the road was interesting. Is there a car? I can’t tell you how close I came to walking under a bus. I hugged the wall mostly. I must have looked like I was drunk. Anyway, I got home in one piece and fell into bed, and after fighting with the smoke alarm which was making stupid beeping noises, I slept the headache away. Sleep is basically the only thing that helps, although Excedrin Migraine pills are good too.

I can remember the first time I had a migraine. I was maybe 15, and in history class. I remember getting the aura, but not knowing that’s what it was, and then later feeling sick, and then the pain. Oh. My. God. What the hell was this? I had never felt a headache like it. After that they showed up pretty regularly, at one point at least once a month, sometimes I’d get a cluster of them within a few days. Just when I’d think I was getting over it I’d get the hideous squiggly lines across my eyes and go shut my self in a dark room in the hopes I could sleep it off.

And then there was the second wave a migraines. The new kind. During my second year of university, when I was in America, I woke up one morning and threw up. And threw up…and on and on, and my head was killing me. My roommate was kind enough to take me to the medical centre, where a nurse stuck a needle in my hip with stuff to stop me vomiting, or maybe just to take my mind off the pain because again: Oh. My. God. That hurt. Needles in hips? EVIL. But I did stop being sick, and they did give me some awesome drugs.  And ever since then I’ll wake up every now and then with a screaming head and the need to puke my guts up.

So yeah, migraines suck, to put it mildly. Not only is there pain, and puking, I also get an increased chance of stroke. Woot! I don’t get them as often as I used to, which is something. And usually if I do, it’s my own fault, for not taking care of myself better. If I skip meals, if I don’t get enough sleep, if I have too much sleep, if I’m feeling stressed out, I can’t be surprised if one comes a knocking. But hopefully not for a good while now, ok head?

It’s Raining, It’s Pouring and I’m Really Boring

It’s that time of year again. It’s getting darker, and colder, and I don’t like it one bit. I don’t mind winter, I quite like getting all bundled up in jumpers and hats and scarves. I’m just not ready for it quite yet. And I’m really not ready for it to get dark early. There’s nothing more depressing than waking up in the dark, spending all day behind a desk, then leaving work in the dark. My poor body is deprived of sunshine and it just wants to hibernate until it’s over.

Right now it’s an in between stage, so it’s impossible to know what to wear in a morning. Do I wear a coat? Is it time for boots? One thing I won’t leave the house without it my umbrella, since at any moment the heavens can open and ruin your day, which may or may not be what happened to me earlier. I’d been to see Julie and Julia* and already got caught in one downpour on my way to the cinema, and sadly lifting my knees up to the dryer in the loo didn’t help at all. Coming back I forgot that my bus is on diversion and I had to walk in the goddamn rain and even with my precious umbrella I was soaked to my skin. It’s that kind of rain where you sit in the window looking out from your warmth and think ‘Man, am I glad I’m not out in that.’ I finally caved and put the heating on to dry stuff (it’s ok, someone caved before me, I wasn’t the first one!). Then I accidentally ate mouldy bread. And my MP3 player is busted, probably because it’s wet…

What was my point? Oh yeah, I am not fond of of this weather. It sucks.

*It was very lovely. Meryl Streep is just brilliant isn’t she? And I’m a little in love with Stanley Tucci right now. They’re fabulous together. Oh to be loved like that.

Screws fall out all the time, it’s an imperfect world

John Hughes died. That’s just not the kind of news you want to hear first thing in the morning. He was only 59. I know he hadn’t been around Hollywood much recently, but the man is responsible for some of the best films ever, the films of my childhood. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched them. I know the quotes off by heart, I know exactly what’s coming next. And I still laugh. He gave me completely unreasonable expectations when it came to cute boys showing up on my doorstep and finally getting that, der, I was their perfect person. Just so you know, it never happened, but I’m ok with that. He’s probably the reason I wanted to be American when I was a kid, just so I could have a locker, and a yearbook, and go to the prom. Even with all the bullshit that went on in high school, I still wanted to be there, with those people.

He gave us Sixteen Candles and the geek that borrows your underwear. The Breakfast Club where we’re not that different from each other. Pretty in Pink (although, as we know, she should have picked Duckie) and the ending fixer with Some Kind of Wonderful. He gave us Ferris Bueller and Uncle Buck. He made Matthew Broderick look cool (I’m assuming since, well, look at him now) and John Candy lovable. And then there’s the heartbreaking montage at the end of She’s Having a Baby set to Kate Bush’s Woman’s Work. If you haven’t seen that film, you need to watch it.There are many, many more, but those are some of my favourites.

And of course, there are the quotes:

You see us as you want to see us… In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain…and an athlete…and a basket case…a princess…and a criminal…Does that answer your question?… Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.

I’m Buck Melanoma. Moley Russell’s wart. Not her wart. Not her wart! I’m… I’m the wart. She’s my tumor. My… my growth. My… uh, my pimple. I’m Uncle Wart. Just old Buck “Wart” Russell. That’s what they call me, or Melanoma Head. They’ll call me that. “Melanoma Head’s coming.” I’m s… uncle! Maisy Russell’s uncle!

And in the end, I realized that I took more than I gave, I was trusted more than I trusted, and I was loved more than I loved. And what I was looking for was not to be found but to be made.

His name is Blane? Oh! That’s a major appliance, that’s not a name!

And one we should all live by:

Life moves pretty fast. You don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

I may need to have a Hughes movies marathon this weekend. Maybe we all should.