Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Big Trees here we come!
My desk is cleared; my 'out of office' email is on; my voicemail message re-recorded (and at the first attempt): "...please leave your name, telephone number, and if possible, a reference number and I will return your call as soon as possible..."
It won't be all that soon mind.
The Reminder - Feist
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
I'm not getting excited, I'm just getting anxious.
The more people insist that I must be getting really excited by now, the more anxious I become.
And instead of writing a list to calm my nerves, I'm sitting around fretting.
Why am I anxious about going on holiday?
Fur & Gold - Bat For Lashes
Labels: real life
Monday, May 14, 2007
We've had a virus.
Or, according to HeadHoncho, "a superbug" since last Tuesday.
I've been enjoying the silence and the reading time is great but, surprisingly, need to be getting on with some work today. If it's not too much to ask.
Castaways & Cutouts - The Decemberists
Thursday, May 10, 2007
When I was thirteen or so I went through a phase of disrobing in front of my bedroom window.
This won't surprise some people who know me.
There are others who would be incredulous.
One or two might be horrified.
I know it was a phase, because I don’t do it any longer. I know why I did it and what it was about. I’m comfortable with it in a self-indulgent "it's no big deal - I was thirteen" kind of way.
I say “it was a phase, because I don’t do it any longer”.
On the other hand, in a way, am I not doing it again - right now?
It only works if you know someone is watching.
I Spy - Get Cape Wear Cape Fly
Wild Horses - Flying Burritto Brothers
Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime - Korgis
Bled White - Elliott Smith
You Really Got A Hold On Me - Smokey Robinson
Goin' Back - Dusty Springfield
Quick, Before It Melts - Cinerama
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
In My Little Town I Never Meant Nothing, I Was Just My Father's Son
The man who preferred sherbet strawberries will be 49 next week.
He was a farmer’s son. One evening, when he was eight years old, he went out looking for his dad and found him in the barn. He’d blown his brains out.
It's a small town. This is the sort of information everyone has on anyone.
People you don't know will know you as "the one whose dad shot himself". Sadly, in a farming community, that’s not such a rare distinction (ditto "the one who killed his brother by reversing the tractor over him").
Some feel stifled and, confusing anonymity with freedom, flee to anonymity at the first opportunity.
It doesn't bother me.
Lucky as, going back, there are circles where I will still be "the one who almost wrecked the one whose dad shot himself's marriage".
My Little Town - Simon & Garfunkel
Coolsville - Rickie Lee Jones
Wild World - Cat Stevens
California - Joni Mitchell
Only Love Can Break Your Heart - Neil Young
Cigarettes & Chocolate Milk - Rufus Wainwright
I'm Your Toy - Elvis Costello
Friday, May 04, 2007
An email from Auntie M waited for me when I got home yesterday. Just a quick note to tell me that Auntie A is in hospital, seriously ill.
Auntie A and Uncle K emigrated in the 50's and consequently my relationship with them and the New Zealand branch of the family is limited to memories of the visit they made in '75 and anecdotes from the days before they sailed. I see them as sepia-toned pioneers, bravely forging a new life a world away from the Colne back-to-backs which would have been the alternative option.
They made that leap in the dark: they built their own house, bought a patch of land, raised a family, planted an orchard and gave us a heads up on kiwi fruit.
The latest news doesn't sound good.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
HeadHoncho has resorted to bribes in an effort to get people to co-operate with BottomOfTheBarrel.
Today he has been offering pairs of tickets to the RadioOne"WhereIsPrestonAgain?"Weekend as an incentive to anyone who will step forward with a televisual story and a willingness to be filmed.
There was a definite surge of moderate indifference, and it looked as though he might be onto something. Until he managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory by admitting, under the perceptive questioning of legal experts, that he didn't actually have any tickets.
Wish - The Cure
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
He only played for one club
I hope a 'crystal-cut vase' was what his heart truly desired, though I doubt it somehow.