I've been caving this weekend: bailed on invites for Friday night and last night, but the week hasn't been a complete social disaster, I did manage to see the short minxcat on her birthday on Tuesday, and to have dinner with Trish after work on Thursday at The Crown but that only worked because it's close to the office and she was waiting for me when I gave up waiting for her call. I would have left earlier if she'd been calling my current mobile number and not the old one (which is my alarm clock and event contact number). Not my fault she decided to stop work at 4:30 and I was expecting her to call around 6:30!
I'd been streetwalking in the early afternoon ~ OK, OK, I was 'avvin a fag and prefer to take a walk down the road rather than suffer the smoking shed ~ and Trish happened to be driving up the same road on her way to work at the same time.
Still, the food was fabulous and I amazed myself by having only one glass of wine. No magic tricks from the proprietor there, time; I think Paulo's where we were last week is the only place to do that.
The new school is going well, but the reshaping of my life-pattern to allow waking at 6 and getting to work for 8:45 (TGF my son acting as alarm/check call) has not been matched by a reciprocal leaving after the mandatory 8 hours including lunch-break. The theory is that I will get used to it, it will become automatic, and my energy levels will get back to normal. Can't wait.
It's quite surprising how differently I react when colleagues assume I'm great, there's a bit of a positive feedback loop going on, and I've already been made project monitor, not bad for only having been there a week. Also, getting home for my tea every night has been lovely, even if I am dead on my feet by 10pm and totally lights out at 11. Good news is that my man lives closer to the office than I do so I'll be checking out the M4 tomorrow morning and am optimistic that I will be able to harass him more often ;)
Yesterday was domestical and family social; the new grass has had its first haircut and looks great at ground level but has many bald patches seen from upstairs. Lots of washing was done, and I decided to walk to the nursery while the red devil was being examined by the garage and was able to spend some time with D and the shorts. I now have a vicarious kitten, it seems to be coping with living with a 5yo and 3yo but there have already been a couple of "back off" scratches and a level of mutual respect is being established.
Unreasonably chuffed that the red devil got it's MOT with minimal fuss; the horrible squealing noise appears to have been a part-seized handbrake (now adjusted at a reasonable cost) and new tyres were something I knew I'd have to do soon. Total cost, £275. Result!
When I collected it, the proprietor asked me if the targa top still works (of course it does!) and told me one of his mechanics was desperate to see it in action, "if I wouldn't mind". Mind? I love showing off the Thunderbirds are slow action. All clicks and whirs with occasional beeps. The lads were seriously impressed. I should point out that my exhaust sounds MUCH better than the one in the link, lovely to inherit a complete stainless steel system. I chose not to demonstrate the reverse manoeuvre and drove home topless.
Bit of a kip did for any plans to go out but I read "Anansi Boys" and cerfed about on youtube to enjoy the music references. Wikipedia is a spoiler, I'd recommend just reading the book.
It was rumored that there was going to be a movie adaptation of Anansi Boys (from the radio play), but the "moviemakers wanted to change the lead black characters to white or drop the magical elements altogether". Gaiman claimed not to need the money, "Not needing the money puts me in a magical place because I can say no. I like the idea of having good movies made or having no movies made."
On 9th April 2010, Gaiman updated his Twitter feed with, "Anansi Boys script starting to look a bit more like a script."
Feast or famine with me; I'll try to update a little less extensively but more often
x
