And I wanna be a pirate !

Yes. It has arrived. My precious new special edition of Monkey Island 1 ;)

While I am sitting here with a fat cat in my lap, I will show you this helpful link.

Sargon talks about how to handle bill collectors.

He does this sort of thing for a living, so he has some useful information that y'all might not have come across. Thought you might be interested, since this is a bill-heavy time for most of us.

That was an interesting visit.

The doctor, henceforth called "Boots," spent about half an hour discussing options and likely treatments with me. In the end, I elected the way of pain to begin with the least invasive option and work up from there. So: the Mirena IUD. And it frankly shocked the hell out of me when he indicated he could try to put it in today if I was comfortable with that. Which, not wanting to fuck with multiple appointments, I was.

( Cut for anatomy. )

I am not in any real pain right now, but I am getting the occasional unpleasant sensation from down below, and if I move around my body tells me to go lay down right now. I think the latter may just be aftereffects from nerves, which were making me shake so badly in the waiting room that I couldn't read the book I was holding.

Anyway, the micro-doses the Mirena delivers directly to the uterine tissue will, in theory, lessen my periods significantly and hopefully eliminate them, without giving me any of the horrifying emotional effects of hormone pills. I know as many people this has worked for as people it has not worked for, so I am totally willing to give it some time to do its thing.

We did not discuss diagnostics in detail at this time. I will return to that issue with him the next time I see him, if we deem it necessary. It's probably either fucked hormones or fibroids, and neither condition will be worsened by this or kill me if left alone. Even with a diagnosis of either, we would be doing this same damn thing. If it stops this bleeding shit, I will happily leave it at that until menopause.

Overall, this guy was incredibly smart. He was on the team that studied the effectiveness of uterine ablation and discovered at the same time that the Mirena reduces excessive bleeding. Interesting story there. In short, he's the best damn GYN in the state, which I knew before I went to see him. For the sorts of things he does (ablation, sterilization, that sort of thing) he is one of the three most highly-trained guys in the country.

I have finally found a decent doctor, I think.

Doc Boots is very gentle and kind, he has soft hands, he's sweet, he listens and believes everything I say.

Extra-cool? The clinic attached to the Planned Parenthood he works at apparently provides extensive medical services for low-income women, including low-cost/free sterilization. I did not talk to him about this, didn't have time, but that information came from the website and from stuff in the waiting room. Next time I see him I will definitely be pestering him for more information about that. I don't need it, really, but there are lots of people who do.

But how cool is it that this guy is so passionate about health care -- good health care -- for poor women? The facility is also pretty Spanish-friendly. I really like this guy. He cares about women, and that is obvious.

I am still exhausted from the stress of the whole thing. It's not even a voluntary reaction, it's a stupid instinctive physical thing that I can't control, and it pisses me off. All I can do is go easy on myself and assume that next time, my lizard brain will remember that this wasn't so bad and will stop telling me to run away.

Thanks, everyone, for your support. Last night and this morning truly did suck, because anxiety is like that. Thanks, too, to the lovely friends who offered to go with me. If I had known there was going to be that kind of pain involved, I would have accepted, but I didn't know, and that turns out to have been okay anyway.

Thus I continue in my tradition of being stupidly proud of myself for doing shit that other adults do all the time.

I know, I know, I need to do a proper update entry at some point. I will, once I feel able to...I'm in a bit of a transitional stage at the moment and so don't really want to be talking about me.

But, it's nearly upon us and so I think it's time for another bit of a plug...

MARCH FOR LIFE is happening this weekend in Portsmouth, and we are on a final push for sponsorship

We have a bunch of musically minded individuals drawn from the world of Royal Navy Volunteer bands, Hampshire Police band, Her Majesties Royal Marines band service and Horndean band, joining forces to do the Race for Life as a marching band.... with instruments, playing the entire course!

This will be a unique event and fantastic fun. It's taken a lot of organising and your help and support will make our day so much more enjoyable knowing we're making loads of money for cancer research UK!

if you would like to support us please visit our sponsorship page below, as any help is much appreciated.

www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/marchforlifeband

I now return you to your regularly scheduled programme as I've music for a band of 48 to finish sorting out.... *headdesk*

I originally intended to stopped by the clinic a few days before my appointment to figure out where it is and to fill out paperwork ahead of time, but I put it off thinking "Hey, it's not that big a deal. I'll be fine. It's too hot to go out there."

Today, coming home from my therapist's, I decide that since it's sort of on my way and in a part of town I don't mind driving through and I'm already out in the blazing heat, I would go ahead and do it anway.

Good thing, too. As soon as I saw the Planned Parenthood sign, I got that sick thud in my stomach as my adrenal glands emptied, and by the time I had the paperwork in front of me I was shaking so badly I had to cross out my phone number twice. My signature was beyond fucked. I hope they don't plan on using it for identification purposes.

It was the strangest thing, because I had no sense of actual emotional fear or dread, just a purely physical reaction over which I had absolutely no control. Even after the drive home I was still shaky.

It's mostly just funny-odd, and interesting on a psychological level. But Jesus Christ, you know, I thought I was fine with this. I thought I was okay knowing that this was not the clinic and not the people who fucked me over. I guess it was bothering me way more than I was aware of on a conscious level. And that is the second time recently that this has happened. While I'm glad that I apparently have the ability to function while fucked up, I am not so glad to be unaware of shit going on in my own head. Shit I should probably know about.

I'm feeling freaked out right now, but I expected that. Tomorrow is not going to be fun. At least I got the paperwork filled out. I won't have to have anyone help me write my own damn name.

I want to preface this entire piece by saying that nothing I say below is to be taken as a moral judgment or an implication that mentally ill people are less deserving of respect and human courtesy, any less intelligent, or any of that. I don't see how that might happen, but it doesn't mean I haven't put my foot in my mouth. I'm also not speaking for everyone. I'm aware that there are people out there who don't have a hard time dealing with their issues. I'm talking about the people who do.

I also want to say that this, too, is hewn from a longer piece, so I can't vouch for its coherence or its lack of redundancy.

Back on that same Feministe post, another good quote.

Emily, on what she sees as a difference between physical and mental disabilities, says that ". . . if mental illnesses are analogous to physical disabilities, it seems like you want to reframe mental illness as something not really wrong with the mentally ill person, but a failure on the part of society to accommodate that person.

"This rubs me the wrong way because many mental illnesses are, in and of themselves and regardless of how society treats someone, hellish states of existence."

Yeah, our social and moral attitudes toward mental illness are beyond fucked, but believe me, being bipolar sucks just fine all on its own without any help from ignorant assholes. For many, if not all, the suck is a built-in feature of the illness.

". . . . I guess the main point I’m making is that I think a distinction needs to be made between . . . [conditions] in which a person can live a happy, full life provided that they are properly accommodated, and disabilities and illnesses which do visit profound harm upon the sufferer, as do many mental illnesses. . . . The fact that many of these people suffer deeply due to their illnesses should be recognized and . . . treatment, insofar as it is available and useful, should be embraced."

Here's my truth: being bipolar is a bad thing for me. I'm not saying that I'm morally bad for being this way. I am saying that it is bad because a lot of the time it sucks wide. I mean, Jesus, I have already lost years of my creative and emotional life to it, and it may well cause me to kill myself someday. How the fuck is that not a bad thing?

So the constant denials that there is anything wrong with me and assurances that this condition has not really robbed me of anything worthwhile, the promises that if I do the "acceptance" thing just right it will quit sucking, the assertion that I am not seeing the bright side, man do those ever hurt.

It hurts when people imply that my perception of things is wrong. It is not. I know my own potential better than anyone. Let me tell you, internets, depression is not the same as pessimism. Some of the most optimistic, cheerful people I know are fucking hideously depressed. I know, it's crazy, but that's why they call us . . . ermm . . . crazy.

So yeah, my emotions are fucked, but I know where I am. I know this illness, its cycles, its rhythms, where it is likely to take me, where it means I cannot go. Telling me there is nothing wrong with me does not make me feel better. It makes me feel stupid and weak and lazy . . . and so goddamn alone.

Alone is perhaps the worst of it. When I am trying to tell it like it is and someone just won't listen, when they insist that I will get better someday, find a magic pill, or figure out how to look at it so that it will stop fucking hurting, it means that I need to educate that person about the reality of my situation before they are going to be able to help me. I mean, if someone doesn't see that your problem is a problem, going to them when you need comfort is not such a hot idea.

When this happens, it makes me feel that much smaller, that much sadder, that much more cut off. It makes me withdraw just that much more trust. It makes any comfort I find that much colder.

I tried for years to look on the bright side of this. There are some fucking awesome things about being this way. And for me, that's not enough to make me not hate and fear it. I tried for years to be a magical madman, to embrace my inner fuckup and love myself into a state of transcendent batshit craziness. It still sucked. You know the only thing that helped me not want to blow my head off? Acknowledging that it was never going to stop being what it was, acknowledging that the bad outweighed the good, and then medicating the bitch!

When someone tells me to behave as though this will someday stop beating the emotional shit out of me, or to live for those between times, or that if I really accepted myself I would be happy (thus implying that since I am not happy, I have not accepted myself) . . . that person is not helping me get better.

My doubt that my bipolar disorder will ever change seems like a terrible thing to a lot of folks, but it's not. I am hopeful, still, but it's not hope that it will go away or that I will get better, but that I will find a way of dealing with this that works well enough to make me happy again.

I am trying, but it's an ugly process. The only way out is through. I need to cope with reality as it is, not reality as I would like it to be. I need to make plans based on what is most likely, not plan based on the most favorable circumstances. I need to be able to function when things suck at their worst.

And the need to live with shit that sucks is not something that society addresses.

We teach people to accept that there is nothing evil about having a mental illness, and that some bad things can't be changed. Okay, we teach those things badly, but in the stupid process of trying to be human and love each other we do make stabs at it. But freakin' nobody addresses what happens after you admit you can't change it and understand that it doesn't make you evil.

Nobody really talks about the emotional sewage farming of having to deal with this shit every day for the rest of your life. Most of what I've seen is geared toward people who are newly-diagnosed, and the Welcome to Being Fucked Up 101 manual is seriously lacking in advanced protocols. Nobody talks about learning to accept permanently diminished capacity – not just accepting that it won't go away, but accepting that you are going to have to live with it forever.

There is a difference between accepting the fact that something is permanent and actually learning to live with it. I mean, there's a difference between accepting the fact that you are going to have a baby, and then learning to live with and care for that baby, right? It's not any different with an illness, injury, disability, so on.

It doesn't help that the whole "acceptance" discussion is always painted as a positive step involving positive emotions, with a lot of emphasis on how much better life will be once we accept ourselves. But as long as we are framing conversations about injury or illness or disability of any kind solely in terms of making positives out of negatives, as long as we tell people it will get better when they accept themselves, we are forcing people into roles that are seldom applicable to real life, and we are preparing them very poorly for life as whatever sort of fucked up they are.

The assertion that all pain is simply a blessing in disguise is terribly unhelpful. After all, if you are struggling to accept how things are, and someone tells you that you are wrong about how things are, that you're just looking at it wrong . . . well, that implies that you are either lazy for not just wising up and doing the legwork of loving yourself, or that you are too stupid to realize how deluded you are, you poor little thing. Someone says "Your problems aren't as bad as they seem!" How else to understand that besides "You are a lying, lazy faker who could do so much better if you just tried!" At best, it's "What's wrong with you? Don't you appreciate how wonderful your life is?"

Yeah, great. Thanks, you've given me so much fucking hope. If this is wonderful, I can't wait to see what shitty looks like.

And what happens when people accept what they are and find that their life is still hard, that it still sucks? Oh, that's what doctors and therapists and shrinks are for, right? Yeah. That's not going to be enough. Even a really good team working together can't fix it all. That's something a person has to do in the larger world. And most people don't have access to a good doctor or therapist or shrink. This is slack that society needs to take up.

And the shitty part is that I don't know what we should do for each other. I am still trying to figure it out for myself. Becaue the need in me has not been met, I can't say what would fill it. Only that there's a huge gap in our culture where help for people with major fucking issues should be, and I've fallen into it myself.

All I can say is that accepting what we -- all of us whose emotional need for support through major emotional suck is not getting met -- accepting what we say about our lives as fact, accepting that there may not be a bright side to whatever it is we are dealing with, and helping us to learn to live with whatever truths are ours would be a mighty fine place to start.

Nice meme copied from meltintowalls :


I miss somebody right now. I dont watch TV these days. I wear glasses or contact lenses. I love to play video games. I have been in a threesome. I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship. I believe honesty is usually the best policy. I have changed a lot mentally over the last year. I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me. I’m TOTALLY smart. I’ve broken someone’s bones. I’m paranoid sometimes. I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free. I need money right now. I LOVE sushi. I talk really, really fast. I have long hair. I have lost money in Las Vegas. I have at least one sibling. I have worn fake hair/fingernails/eyelashes in the past. I couldn’t survive without Caller ID. I like the way I look. I am usually pessimistic. I have a lot of mood swings. I have a hidden talent. I’m always hyper no matter how much sugar I have. I have a lot of onlinefriends. I am currently single. I have pecked someone of the same sex.¹ I enjoy talking on the phone. I practically live in sweatpants or PJ pants. I love to shop.² Enjoy window shopping. I would rather shop than eat. I don’t hate anyone. I’m a great dancer.³ I’m embarrassed to be seen with my mother.⁴ I have a cell phone. I believe in God. I watch MTV on a daily basis. I have passed out drunk in the past 6 months. I’ve rejected someone before. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life. I want to have children in the future. I have changed a diaper before. I’ve called the cops on a friend before. I’m not allergic to anything. I have a lot to learn. I have been with someone at least 10 years older or younger. I am shy around the opposite sex. I have tried alcohol before. I have made a move on a friend’s significant other or crush in the past. I own the “South Park” movie. I would die for my best friends. I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza. I have used my sexuality to advance my career. I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all. Halloween is awesome because you get free candy.⁵ I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it. I am happy at this moment. I’m obsessed with guys. I study for tests most of the time. I tie my shoelaces differently from anyone I’ve ever met. I am comfortable with who I am right now. I have more than just my ears pierced. I walk barefoot wherever I can. I have jumped off a bridge. I love sea turtles. I spend ridiculous money on makeup. Plan on achieving a major goal/dream. I’m proficient in a musical instrument. I worked at McDonald’s restaurant. I hate office jobs. I love sci-fi movies. I think water rules. I want to go to college out of state.⁶ I like sausages. I love kisses. I usually like covers better than originals. I can pick up things with my toes. I can’t whistle. I can move my tongue in waves, much like a snakes slither. I have ridden a horse. I still have every journal I’ve ever written in. I moantalk in my sleep. I try to forget things by drowning them out with loads of distractions. Climbing trees is a brilliant past-time. I have jazz in my blood. I wear a toe ring. I have a tattoo. I can’t stand at LEAST one person that I work with. I am a caffeine junkie. I cosplay or know what cosplaying is. I have been to over 15 conventions. I will collect anything, and the more nonsensical the better. I’m an artist. I only clean my room when necessary. I like a person of the same sex. I love being happy. I am an adrenaline junkie.

1) Kissed with tongues, more like. *snigger*
2) I never used to before, but now it seems I can't help myself. O_o
3) Not great perhaps, but for someone untrained I think I'm pretty decent.
4) Seen, no. Heard, maybe. :p
5. Halloween is awesome because it's my birthday. ;)
6) I don't, as a matter of fact, live in the US, but I'd love to study in Ireland. *sigh*


Anyways, I'd better go to bed now, gotta be off to Tampere tomorrow to see the boy and discuss... oh yes, moving in together. ;p
More about that later, I swear.

Went and gave blood to the hospital elves so they can see if my adjusted-dose thyroid meds are doing me any good. It was a more painful draw than usual because my veins are so small and because I had just gotten up and was dehydrated. Still, I love that particular lab. I have only once had a bad draw there. They are the most gentle, careful people, and they listen to me when I tell them that I have tiny veins that roll. See? I don't hate all medical professionals! I love my phlebotomists!

Tomorrow I see my therapist again for the first time in a long time. I'm glad about that, really glad, but the time away has given me time to think. I think I'm going to use the opportuntiy to reevaluate our goals and talk about what I can do to deal with this newest raft of crap.

Wednesday is the appointment with the new GYN. I am looking forward to this about as much as you would expect, which is to say not even a tiny little bit. Especially since the problem I'm going in for has stopped. Thing is, I know it will come back. Once it starts this shit, it tends to just get worse and worse until I do something to shut it up. There's no point in putting it off and trying to catch it in the act. On the other hand, the fact that it's not bleeding inappropriately right now means I don't need immediate help, so if something rubs me wrong I can walk out of there with no qualms whatsoever.

The weekend was tiring and aside from a visit from friends, sort of unpleasant. Allergies have me feeling like crap, and there was some really unpleasant upfuckery in one of my internet hangouts. I shouldn't let it get to me offline, I know, but it came on the heels of some really upsetting internal monologue stuff I've been dealing with, and it just sort of filled up the suck bucket in one fell swoop.

I know I'm not worthless or some sort of monster, but it really hurts to know that there are people out there who think that about other sick people, and very likely would think so about me if I weren't so comparatively functional and self-controlled. It bothers me that there are people whose distrust of anything not "normal" is more important to them than having sympathy for a human being who did not choose their lot in life.

I think that's about all I've got for now. I'm going to go see about finishing up a commission and mybe doing some prep work for some new boxes. I don't know. I've hit the point where, even though I don't want to do anything, I'm emotionally sound enough to want to want to do something, and the only cure for that I know is to tie up loose ends and do whatever seems like a good time.

Hope your weekend was okay. I will be back with, yes, another lycanthropy/bipolar/mental illness post, hopefully tonght, but maybe not until Thursday. I'm trying to post Real Stuff more often, really I am.

Most will know them as Stage Magicians with a great show and a great number of cameos in series I love (including Bab 5). I heartily encourage to check 'em out on Youtube and Wikipedia, and inspired by a conversation by Glok I checked them out and found a show they very recently did.

So, nathreee, this one's for you: http://www.megavideo.com/?v=1R2Y7O0V . I especially like the last few minutes. And Harrison is a good kid.

( it includes profanity and might not be safe for work ).

Well, all stuff has been transferred and it is livable. We have loads of stuff but after a day of consistant hard work clearing boxes we've managed to make all rooms cept the study ready to go, and the study is improving by the day. Mucho thanks to all people who donated their time and carspace, once more. Had a wonderful afternoon in Rotterdam computershopping and geeking out with jpdw & maglok, resulting on Glok's new compie, Vortex. I won't launch into a rant on how difficult it all was in a diplomatic sense cause various people have really been yanking my chains, but suffice to say I played a lot of Supreme Commander and some Overlord. Overlord II had been wonderful, but at some points it's difficulty curve is rather steep, and with minions being _very_ pricey you sometimes get a few wipes without deserving it. Still, I laugh my behind off.

So, what remains to be done in the housey:

Right now:
- Upgrade the electrical grid to host a seperate group for the washingmachine / dryer (v. soon).
- Go through and clear many of the boxes as storage space becomes available. Still several trips planned to the municipal dump cause jeeesh, we have a lot of crap.
- Final run through the old house before turning over the keys. Much has been done already, so there isn't much left but still enough to warrent a few round trips. New possible tenant is coming Tuesday.

Next few months:
- Upgrade home security: new locks on all external doors and upgrades on both doors and windows. Current security is only so-so.
- Light in bedroom.
- Curtains (Karwei is still delayed)
- Lies' computerdesk.
- Finish the TV closet plus bolt to wall.
- Closets above computerdesk
- IVAR closet in the study / armory / spare room.
- Planks to line the wall of both the Central Heating area as well as the shed for additional 'dry' storage.

Longer term:
- Front garden revamp: it is a mess now with a sad little row of schrubbery and mossy, dry ground. Lies mowed it and cleaned out the trash, but we want something more like our neighbours two doors down: solid wooden fence and tiles. Gonna cost some money but help vastly in home security.
- Revamp the bathroom. We're getting a new bath, we also want to upgrade several other aspects. End of 2009, probably.
- Extend the shed with a small lean-to for the bikes and additional storage. Somewhere 2009.
- Replace kitchen. Mid-2010. The kitchen is quite old and a hand-me-down for the previous tenant as well. The electric cooking plate will be replaced asap with gas, but the rest of the kitchen needs to be done as well, and that is going to require some serious funds. It'll seriously
- Replace car. I want my soccer-mom-car back. Preferably an Opel Zafira or something Japanese. Mid to End of 2010, if we are both lucky.

Main goal: it is a good apartment, but with a few more upgrades it'll be a great appartment. It is starting to feel like home, too, and that is the biggest single compliment I can give it. Still, I am pretty darned tired. For two of my clients it is the last week before the vacation, so I am prepping for an extended server shutdown at their places. Both my helpdeskers are vacationing too on Wednesday and Thursday, giving me quiet days. Friday will see me doing helpdesk, and I don't expect a lot of troubs, too, and I am looking forward to going to Delft again.

oke het is laat, en misschien klinkt het gek maar dit is een oprechte een gemeende oproep


GEZOCHT

instap naar mode/larp-winkel/ coupeuzebaan

ik weet dat verschillende mensen binnen de larp wereld een winkel hebben, (zoals de dolle griet, en barbwire & rozes)
ik zou eigenlijk dolgraag voor zo'n soort winkel willen werken, ik wil graag verder met kostuums en accesoires maar ik heb er geen opleiding voor. ik heb al gekeken naar opleidingen, maar de meeste zijn particulier en hardstikke duur of veels te ver weg.
ook ga ik er niet van uit dat ik het geld voor zo'n soort studie kan gaan opbrengen.

wat ik dus eigenlijk wil is misschien een soort opstap naar die wereld, ik kan aardig kostuums maken en anders ben ik een snelle leerlinge. ik zou het zooooo graag willen.. al kan ik het maar proberen..
het enige nadeel is dat ik dan óf voltijd in dienst wil (moet) of deeltijd 2 dagen maar mee kan helpen (vanwege mijn huidige baan)

ik ben in voor alle tips, adviezen en/of andere oppeppers want ik zie het eigenlijk even niet zo meer zitten
help?

veel kleine dingen zijn er weer voorbij gekomen, en het is maar weer eens een tijd voor een kleinen-dingen-in-een-lang-verhaal-post

1. ik kreeg richard zijn hechtingen te zien.. en ik schrok. 1tje zat een stuk hoger dan ik verwacht had
2. de nobles meet kwam en ging, hij was minder lang dan verwacht en er zijn goede afspraken gemaakt
3. ik heb eindelijk een leren pantser voor mezelf besteld, hij word gaaf!
4. Elysium repeats Naxxaramas, stupid thaddius killed me again
5. ik kreeg op werk te horen dat er misschien een 2e winkel bijkomt
5. de kat word langzaam dikker, ze heeft al een mooie buik (nog 3/4 weken!)
6. geslaagd met shoppen; Loot: 2 spijkerbroeken, 1 riem en een paar larpwaardige laarzen!
7. met rich en jwk naar Ice age 3 geweest in pathe de kuip... uber!!
8. spullen gescoord voor de vakantie (puzzelboekjes, handwerkje)
9. begonnen met pakken voor de vakantie
10. besloten dat er toch wel weer wat gewicht af mag
11. old kingdom run vanavond was een loslopende ramp.. didn't dear to look at the repair costs
12. toch maar weer begonnen in het lied van ijs en vuur (the song of ice and fire)
13. erachter gekomen dat ik daenerys altijd verkeerd gespeld heb als deanerys
14. daar best wel van balen
15. me voor genomen na de vakantie naar de nieuwe harry potter te gaan
16. thema fotograferen voor het foto project, ik had weinig inspiratie maar er is toch op zijn minst 1 mooie foto uitgekomen
17. dingen bedenken die ik niet moet vergeten voor mijn vakantie
18. dinsdag een special trip gepland hebben
19. iedeen voor mijn nobles kostuum in mijn hoofd steeds op nieuw uitdenken
20. mezelf herinneren aan het fijt dat ik nog dingen moet regelen voor de vakantie
21. me ergeren aan mensen, en vooral mezelf
22. weer in een 'schoonheidsdip' zitten
23. moe worden van mn relatie, en niet weten waarom nou eigenlijk
24. braces en armkappen uitdenken voor harma
25. opnieuw gehoor geven aan mijn pepermunt verslaving
26. nog steeds niet echt vooruitgang met het eetpatroon, maar ik drink al wel beter
27. conclusies trekken dat ik daarom waarschijnlijk aangekomen ben
28. me voor nemen beter te eten, maar daar niet echt mee uit komen
29. me verheugen op de vakantie
30. me voornemen dat ik voor mijn nobles karakter toch echt wel een heleboel van mijn eigen wil en karakter moet opzij zetten
31. me afvragen of de lijst niet een beetje lang is
32. misschien toch maar eens naar bed gaan

ugh
zoveel aan mn hoofd
ik zit bijna konstant in mn hoofd tegen mezelf te praten

nog even en ik mag mezelf schytzofreen noemen

-eind

En er was natuurlijk weer een bier van de week! Dit maar was de keuze Fursty Ferret van de brouwer Badger en ik hoef denk ik niet uit te leggen waarom ik deze gekozen heb ;) Hij combineerde erg slecht met de fish and chips, maar hij was later op de avond nog wel te doen. Maar niet voor herhaling vatbaar in ieder geval.

Ik kwam er achter dat de Wychwood brouwerij in Staines zit, een dorpje verderop. De brouwer van oa Hobgoblin, voor de mensen die het kennen. Dus mijn bier van de week komt daar vandaan, aangezien ik van Tim een t-shirt moest gaan kopen en ik ook wel benieuwd ben naar hun andere bieren!

____
Currently reading: Angels and Demons, Dan Brown
Pulp uit de supermarkt... Maar het is een wel ok boek en goedkoop.

Nou, aangezien het weer bij jullie ongeveer hetzelfde is, denk ik dat de ik hoofdbetekenis van de titel niet hoef uit te leggen. Het is pokkeweer hier. Veel regen en zeker 's nachts erg koud. En mijn nieuwe bergschoenen waar ik vorige week nog zo blij mee was, blijken niet waterdicht... En mijn kisten doen pijn, dus de enige overgebleven optie was: laarzen kopen. Nou, makkelijker gezegd dan gedaan! Overal is uitverkoop momenteel, wat op zich heel fijn is. Alleen blijk ik een nogal standaard maat te hebben hier denk ik, want overal was mijn maat uitverkocht.. Dus nu toch maar op m'n kisten en zodra het droog wordt gelijk m'n bergschoenen weer aan. En zo gaat het wel.

Met veldwerk gaat het op zich wel ok, ik ben er ondertussen genoeg aan gewend. Het kl*tige is alleen dat de zenders maar van de egels af blijven vallen, waardoor we nu waarschijnlijk nooit meer van genoeg beesten data krijgen om iets over home-range te kunnen zeggen. Echt zwaar vervelend. Gelukkig hebben we al wel genoeg datapunten voor de andere vragen, maargoed. We hadden bekeken, dat als alle zenders gewoon waren blijven zitten, we nu al klaar waren geweest waarschijnlijk =( maar nu komende week gewoon er  nog keihard voor gaan...
Het is wel heel vervelend dat mijn begeleidster er soms nogal chagrijnig over is (logisch op zich) maar dat ik eigenlijk nergens heb waar ik dat even kan ontvluchten. We zien elkaar natuurlijk tijdens werken, maar omdat ik ook bij haar in huis woon, is hier ook niet echt een ontkomen. Dat maakt het soms wel even heel erg moeilijk...

Gister naar Oxford geweest. Ik wilde het eerst vorige week al doen, maar toen zag ik mijn bankrekening en had ik besloten het een weekje op te schuiven, om de dure dingen wat te spreiden. Maar uiteindelijk viel het alles mee, aangezien ik buiten het treinkaartje en een kop koffie niets gekocht heb. Alle college's waar je normaal voor moet betalen waren toch dicht omdat het collegejaar klaar is, dus hoe jammer het ook was dat ik alleen de buitenkant heb gezien, het was wel lekker goedkoop ;)
Het zag er even naar uit dat ik met een huisgenoot zou gaan, maar die heb ik niet meer gezien nadat we het er over gehad hadden, dus toen ben ik gisterochtend toch maar gewoon alleen in de trein gesprongen. Ik heb een heleboel dingen gezien, maar geen idee wat allemaal eigenlijk, aangezien ik er gewoon maar heen was gegaan, zonder een beetje uit te zoeken wat wel en niet de moeite waard was. Maar ik denk dat ik alle hippe dingen onbewust wel gezien heb zo. En het was redelijk weer, dus dat was ook mooi. Verder ook hier nog even gezocht naar laarzen, maar ook niet te vinden; een praatje gemaakt in de Games Workshop winkel en random gewinkeld zonder succes. Ik wilde eigenlijk rond een uur of 5 in een pub wat gaan eten, maar alles was of vol of zag er heel ongezellig uit, dus toen ben ik maar naar huis gegaan en heb ik hier fish en chips gehaald.

En nu vandaag de data maar weer eens opschonen, want het is een rotzooitje. Moet daar in het volgende gebied maar eens beter op letten. Daar verhuizen we zondag heen, dus dit is ook nog eens de laatste week met internet. Ik zal voor we weg gaan nog wel een updat geven.

It's kind of scary when you Google someone's name from high school because you remember how they could not fucking read and discover that they are a practicing dentist in the next town over.

Take my payrise back plz!

I got my pay rise this month (well, end of june paycheck) for being a qualified dental nurse, this means that mum has now decided I owe her money!

I loaned mum £50 at the start of the year to get some models she liked from a paper, they've just arrived and the money went out in may.

A few months ago, mum INSISTED I had to get a new pair of jeans, because if we got two pairs we got them at £25 each, and she had a pair she really liked...there were none I really liked, but I now have a pair of jeans I have yet to wear. She paid on her card so I could pay back at a later date.

Her and dad went away on holiday, I bought big fermenting tubs for all the bird seed mum likes aaaaaaaaand replaced the kitchen bowl with a new ones because it was scabby and horrid (£20 for all that). Mum (before I told her this) decided to let me off the £25 with house sitting, the decision was cemented when I pointed out the new tubs/bowl. (This was at the end of may after the holiday)

I bought mum's ticket to the walking with dinosaurs arena tour (£35).

Mum bought me some bras to a total cost of £16 but said that was a present for completing the Lindsey Lodge Sleepwalk (aka I walk 13 miles at night for charity!) (This was last sunday)

A day later, when I ask about the £50..."Well you still owe me for those jeans, and then those bras I bought, that's £40 and I AM giving you money towards your sponsor forms, so I'll give you £10 and we call it square?! :D"

I pointed out that I paid the money back via the tubs/bowl/tickets...but since I earn more money than her now I should pay back! Wtf?! Fine have your money back but don't tell me otherwise and then decide that no, you've changed your mind! And now she's pretending to be all shocked that I booked the Walking with Dinosaurs...wtf?! I told her on the day I was doing it because we talked about where we were sitting!

Between her, my brother owing £165 that was meant to be paid back in janurary/february and dad owing me nearly £1k for a few years now...I am not lending money to family ever again.

One of the women I work with is a former language arts teacher, which is why I was pretty surprised when she posed the following question:

"What's an ISBN? Do we use those?"

Of course, the real kicker is that we work for a publisher. Our company's primary goal is to create and sell books.

And she's a high-ranking sales rep for the company.

Some time ago I found myself discussing music with an Australian friend via one internet messenger or another. Eventually the conversation slipped to Triple J's Hottest 100 countdown and how she had been listening to it earlier. I tell her that I had been as well. It is perhaps my own fault for not mentioning that I was listening online, but being that she knew I was an American and had not traveled to Australia I can find no excuse for the following exchange.

Her: You've been listening to Triple J?
Me: a little bit earlier.
Her: Oooh, did you buy an Aussie radio on eBay?

....because that's exactly how radios work. And I suppose if I bought an English television set I'd receive all the BBC channels by default.

Okay, onto the second post then...
I have some pretty serious (no, no, no one's died or anything, don't worry) recent stuff to write about, but since I still need to mull over it inside my head for a while and I'm really bursting to get this off my chest, first I have some advertising for you.

Being Human. I mean, wow.

I don't suppose very many of you (in addition to you new people on my flist <3) have heard of this little gem of a TV show, so allow me to tell you about it...

Meet Mitchell (first name John but no one really calls him that), a laid-back porter in a Bristol hospital. He appears to be in his mid-twenties; a tall, handsome young man with wavy dark hair, wiry build and a soft Irish brogue. He's quick to smile and laugh, very caring toward his friends and great with kids. Oh, and also manages to look great in yellow.

His best mate is George Sands. He also works as a porter in the hospital despite his high level of education (he speaks six languages fluently) and IQ of 156. George is... well, a bit geeky. He wears glasses, is quite pedantic and socially awkward, and has a habit of starting to stutter when he gets nervous. He's also Jewish, though he has lately started to doubt his faith.

The boys share their flat with Annie, a sweet-natured and sort of innocently childlike former student of design with some self-confidence issues and an obsessive-compulsive habit of making tea. She's a bit agoraphobic and still hung up on her ex.

So, what's the catch, you ask?

Well... Mitchell has been a vampire since 1916 (hee!) when he was "recruited" during the First World War (he went through with it so save his squadron), but has recently been struggling to keep on the wagon and not kill anyone. Against all odds he teamed up with George, another outcast from humanity for having had the bad luck to get scratched by a werewolf on a holiday trip to Scotland (never go walking on the Scottish moors alone on a night of full moon!) two years ago. By some coincidence they happened to move in to the very house where one Anna Sawyer had fallen down the stairs to her untimely death, also two years ago...

Together they form an adorable, hilarious trio of friends and flatmates, trying to live normal life the best they can despite their respective supernatural states and the problems they bring. It's... absolutely awesome.
It's dark, it's funny, it's brilliant, it's strangely realistic. It has well-rounded characters (for once a TV vampire isn't defined by his vampiredom, Mitchell feels every bit like a real person), some great music choices (most of which are sadly missing on the DVD version, boo), awesome dialogue and some stellar acting.
I can only highly recommend it, it's the best thing I've watched since Life on Mars probably (if we don't count DW, that is). Too bad there's only six 56-minute episodes so far, in addition to the pilot with different actors for Mitchell (a bit more enigmatic and emo) and Annie (a bit more frail). Eight more are to come in next January, though, and I already can't bloody wait.

There's just something about British productions that I'm drawn to. I mean, I can't basically even watch American tv anymore after being spoiled with the likes of Doctor Who, Life on Mars, Hex, all those stunning period dramas (the latest in line being the gorgeous The Devil's Whore) and now this. No offense meant to any Americans, but British tv just somehow feels so much more real even if it was about witches, vampires or time-travel.
Of course there are exceptions, but one good example are IMHO relationships. In British tv there are often some delightfully subtle love stories in the good old "will they-won't they" vein, or simply some amazing, realistically layered friendships. [MINOR SPOILER]For example, on Being Human there's a cute moment when two of the main characters accidentally kiss. Okay, it's certainly there on purpose, but while in some American show it would have most likely lead to a loaded moment of UST and heaving bosoms, here they just simply laugh it off with genuine affection and carry on with their (un-)lives. Awesome. :)[/MINOR SPOILER]

But anyway, here's a bit upbeat (even though the show itself certainly isn't that all the time) taste of what it's like:



Now I'll bid you goodnight, I must go make sure Saoirse (my eight-month-old kitty who underwent sterilization today) doesn't rip open her stitches or do anything else stupid as she's still a bit wobbly.