August 2002

August 28th, 2002. Time for a holiday

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Right. I'm going to London today, and hopefully meeting up with Mandee, Mark, and lots of other people. And then, I'm going to Paris!

See you all next week!

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August 27th, 2002. A cake-eating excuse

...not that I need any.

It's my last day at work before I go away on holiday, so it all feels a bit end-of-termy. Plus, the boss is upstairs all the time, and so I'm being really lazy and not really doing all the work I should be.

Today, of course, is Sinister's fifth birthday. I could say a lot about how lovely it and the people who run it are, but ... I don't think I could find words big enough. Five years feels like a very long time, and Sinister was the first place that I found on the net that felt like a real community. And, of course, one thing leads to another - us Vermicious Kids are all current or former Sinisterines too. Sinister, long may you thrive. xxxxx.

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August 26th, 2002. Hold your breath for up to ten seconds

I'm getting quite excited about going to Paris next weekend. I got in the mood by listening to an Etienne Daho album on the way to work this morning. Tres francais. Um, something like that.

I also listened to a tape that Lucy From Glasgow gave me, which is very good and made me feel all bouncy. It has a song on it by Darren Hanlon, an Australian who did a gig in Glasgow on Saturday, which Lucy and Ally were promoting. I meant to post about it here but, um, didn't. Anyway, the Darren Hanlon song on this tape - which he also played at the gig - has a lovely little spoken-word bit about how to stop yourself hiccuping. And he has a really sweet Australian voice.

The festival is starting to pack up and go away now, so the city is settling back down to normal. There's a big patch of yellow and white grass on the Meadows where the Chinese State Circus's big top was. There's still the big fireworks concert at the weekend, but of course i'm going to miss it.

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August 25th, 2002. Little fluffy clouds

As I said below, I don't smoke. I never have, apart from a few experiments with the mildly illegal kind of smoking when I was at school.

Sometimes, though, I wish I did. Not because of the smell - although I've always loved the smell of roll-up or pipe tobacco. Not because of the coughing or the cost, or the lines and wrinkles and five other signs of premature aging that smokers supposedly get.

I want to smoke because, despite what all the public information films say, it looks good. It gives you something to do with your hands. You get to ask people for lights. And, it *does* look good. Maybe my mind is warped, but: sitting back in the pub chair with your legs crossed lifting a fag to your mouth looks much better than just sitting back in your chair staring at the ceiling or the other drinkers and whatever. I want something that comes in little tubes like that and doesn't mess your body up. So I can look cool too.

Oh, there's now even more recipes. Well, three more. And I still haven't tried cooking any of them myself yet. I will soon, I promise.

23:01 Comments (5)

August 21st, 2002. Meme of the month

Seeing as several other people are going through their handbags and listing the contents, I may as well jump on the bandwagon. This is what was in my bag on the way home from work:

1. Half-empty bottle of Irn Bru
2. Purse
3. Card wallet with bank cards, old student card, etc.
4. Railcard wallet, with a bunch of old Edinburgh-Glasgow train tickets
5. Spare batteries
6. Dead batteries
7. Walkman
8. Two audio tapes
9. A bunch of CDs - Joy Division, Tompaulin, Kristin Hersh, The Smiths and Ladytron.
10. Notebook
11. Pen
12. A couple of flyers for some Festival show.
13. Phone
14. Keys, which I always panic and think I've lost.
15. Deodorant (well, ok, it says "Body Spray" on the tin)
16. Hair brush
17. Another pen.

Not actually that much, then. It is quite a new bag - a couple of weeks or so - so it hasn't had chance to collect detritus much. And I don't smoke, which would add a few more things on.

OK, now I'm just making excuses.

19:06 Comments (0)

August 21st, 2002. On the beach

There's a couple of new recipes up on the Sinister Recipe Tree pages.

In the news today: British Hindus would like to use the River Aire at Apperley Bridge (near Bradford) as a substitute for the Ganges. For ashes scattering and so on.

I can see one big problem with this. If you pour something in the Aire, it will probably wash up on Cleethorpes Beach a few weeks later. I really wouldn't fancy spending eternity there. It would be too much like when I was a teenager.

11:11 Comments (2)

August 19th, 2002. Modern technology

I've now got an RSS feed running. although I'm not entirely sure why. It seemed like a good idea at the time, I think. It's at http://www.joannou.net/topofthestairs/rss.xml.

I'm not sure if it even works really. I have a RSS-reading program, but if I try to put more than three sites into it it either gets their addresses wrong or crashes altogether, so it's not really the best test of reliability.

We were supposed to have the builders in at the office today, but they didn't turn up. The Boss had spent the whole weekend taping plastic sheeting over all the doorways and thick cardboard over the hallway floorboards, so he was slightly irritated when, after phoning round trying to chase them up, they'd decided they couldn't start the job for another two days. I hope this isn't an omen. It's bad enough that they'll be around the place for six weeks, if they stick to the schedule.

Is there a nicer word than "floorboards" to describe the nice smoothed varnished planks that you leave on show and don't carpet over? There must be, but I can't think of it. Bah, too sleepy...zzzzzzzzz

23:22 Comments (4)

August 18th, 2002. Dear dairy:

Went out shopping with Danny yesterday, because he wanted some clothes. I should have been looking too, but bought nothing apart from a Vaselines CD. The only nice clothing I saw was a denim dress, which wasn't really what I was looking for. We went to Favorit for lunch (as usual), but the service was annoyingly slow and they were out of waffles. Grr.

They'd only make me fatter, anyway.

Lunchtime conversation:
Danny: I want another drink. I'll have a Knickerbocker Glory.
Me: That's not a drink, it's an ice-cream.
Danny: But it's got strawberry syrup!

and also:
Danny: Nobody believes me when I say I'm straight! They just go and ask my friends if I'm really gay. I have to persuade them.

(Danny tries very hard to be the twee-est boy in the Kilwinning area. I've never visited, but I'd imagine he's quite good at it)

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August 15th, 2002. Ringing the changes

A bit of link-fiddling today

Out goes lostharbour.org, because Chris has taken the blog part of it down for the summer pending a redesign; and Lindsey's site, because (apparently) her parents have forbidden her to blog.

In come: Naked Blog, which you probably all know about already anyway; and Retro-Secretarial, which you probably don't (because it's only been going for a week or so).

Before you ask, NB got added because Peter seems nice and friendly, and not because having the word "naked" on the front page will attract search queries :-P

16:00 Comments (2)

August 15th, 2002. Ad break

I've been thinking a bit more about this new Trackback thingy - which the Vermicious Kids still don't have yet, of course. It would be a shame if it encourages the MT user community (is there one?) to become more inward-looking and less likely to discuss entries on the many good non-MT-using blogs. Not that I'm suggesting it will, just that it would be a shame if it did.

For the last time (I promise), I'm going to plug the Camera Obscura gig tomorrow. If you're in Edinburgh, please come. It's at The Venue, and part of Planet Pop. It's only about a fiver, and they're supported by Odeon Beatclub and The Boy Cartographer (whoever they are). More info is probably available on the Camera Obscura mailing list.

Plus, you get to meet me, if you can spot me in the audience! I'm fairly recognisable, and I'll probably put my hair in pigtails.

11:14 Comments (0)

August 14th, 2002. Yes, I know it's early

A New Zealand man has created a portrait of Elvis, from toast. (via boingboing.net)

A few months ago, I took my parents to the Glasgow Gallery of Modern Art. One painting showed a rhinestone-studded white jumpsuit stretched out crucifix-style, with a caption something like: "Elvis is the redeemer who died for our sins." My mother was not impressed. "They can't say that," she said, shocked. "It's blasphemous!"

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August 13th, 2002. Duh!

OK, the link to the words page is fixed now. Stupid quote marks.

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August 12th, 2002. As soon as I'm back at work, the sun comes out.

Monday morning, back at S&M Ltd. I stand behind the boss, and he changes his email window away from one that says "Fetish" in the subject-line.

I fiddled around a bit with the words page over the weekend. It now has some awful poems I wrote for Archel's mailing list, and links to the Sinister Recipe Tree. I figured that page had been unchanged for over a year, so it was time I did something to it.

Apparently, there might be a ScotBlog Meet on Saturday. I'm not sure whether or not to go (assuming I'll have recovered from the Camera Obscura gig the night before). I'd be intrigued to meet some of the local people whose blogs I read, but I don't really want them to meet me. I'm worried they will - if they have even read this site - will be surprised at what I look like, or would be Expecting Someone Else. I always feel a bit embarrassed if people have expectations of what I'm like.

12:11 Comments (2)

August 11th, 2002. Trackback? What trackback?

So, yes, I went out to get all those things I didn't buy yesterday, and I dragged K along too. I now have a bag of prescription medicines (£12.40, it's terrible), tickets to the C. O. gig and new shoes - red canvas trainers with a rainbow stripe down the sides.

It was raining the whole time, but at least that meant less tourists were in the way. I was wearing a new t-shirt, and it wasn't until I got to the chemists that I realised something was scratching my neck. Scrabbling about, I realised what it was: the tags were still on it. Duh! I felt very stupid all afternoon, and cut them off as soon as I got home.

We popped into Lush, where the floors are wooden, and glittery and slippery from all that soap. I noticed that their shop assistants must have rather boring lives: they were having to take out all the bath bomb things from their racks and restack them in the right pattern.

Some time ago, Brian tried to update the Vermicious Kids server to the latest posh new version of Movable Type. It failed, for some obscure reason. So I'm still not entirely sure what this whole Trackback thing actually does.

The best i can think is that it lets you link to other people's blog entries in a way that lets people spot it easier by making a two-way link. Which would come in handy, because I want to point out that this made me go all "awww!" earlier.

Oh, the pattern of the bath balls things in Lush? Face-centered cubic, I think. Something like that, anyway.

22:20 Comments (0)

August 10th, 2002. Stop blocking the pavement

Here's a good site. It's about perpetual motion machines (via caterina.net).

The city is, of course, filled still with tourists and festival goers. I went shopping for a few hours with K, and got *so* tired with the heat and the busyness that as soon as I got home I had to nap for a couple of hours.

I wanted to buy shoes, but didn't. I saw a couple of pairs I liked, though, so I'll probably go back tomorrow and get one. Along with all the other things I didn't do, like get my antihistamine prescription (if I can find a Sunday-opening pharmacy) and get tickets for Camera Obscura at Planet Pop.

Camera Obscura *did* have a website, but it seems to have vanished. Ho hum. Here at F>TS, we do have a picture of their keyboard player, though. She's the one on the right.

I got a strange email the other day, about someone I know. I'm not sure how much I can say about it, though, but it sounds like they're in a really bad situation with their family. If you're reading this (you'll know who you are), I really hope you get it all sorted. Big hugs.

18:52 Comments (0)

August 9th, 2002. Grin, grin, grin

It's been a good day.

Yesterday, all my coding seemed to be going well. I could open a file, understand what was going on, apply fixes and have it all Just Work immediately. I was happy.

Today, I managed to fix a bug that's been baffling us for *weeks*. It was a stupid little thing that didn't seem to be documented anywhere. I have no idea even why the fix worked. But it did, and I'm happy.

Plus, I went to the doctor's earlier today. He did put one of those scary little acronyms that probably means "patient is being stupid" or something in my notes. He was friendly about it all, though. And I'm happy.

Bouncing up and down, almost.

16:18 Comments (2)

August 7th, 2002. Parlez-vous ecossais?

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I'm getting quite excited about my trip to Paris at the end of the month. Last night, thinking about it, I suddenly remembered that I only know three phrases of French. As follows:

• Oui, s'il vous plait.
• Non, merci.
• Je voudrais une grande tranche de gateau.

Yup. Should be all I need.

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12:17 Comments (2)

August 6th, 2002. And you thought we were uptight

According to this news article, our local sex shop wants to open a new branch in another part of the city. Hundreds of the residents, of course, have petitioned the council. In favour of it. They outnumber the objectors by 10 to 1.

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August 5th, 2002. Unproductive

Felt awful at work today. I'd woken up in the night with a really bad sore throat, and all day was leaning on my desk thinking "uuurgh, I want to go home".

So, all I did was shuffle a few databases around, generate statistics and surf the web whilst the boss was out of the room. Nothing constructive.

The heat didn't help. Heat when I'm feeling bad always makes me feel worse. And it was very warm and sunny today. Walking back home, the Meadows were full of topless men playing football.

Overheard conversation on the way home. A woman with a Kent accent on the phone: "You're such a nob. Such a loser. I'll meet you in the Graaassmarket, then. Awww..."

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August 4th, 2002. Cafe fixtures

Went to Favorit last night with Kristin and Olivier. Everywhere nearer the High Street was, of course, packed out with Festival people. Favorit is nice, though, and I got rather too drunk/hyper on espresso cocktails.

Afterwards we went to The Egg, which seemed to be full of punks for some reason. As usual, we sat outside the cloakroom making bitchy comments. One punkboy was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt with a scary-looking cat picture on it, which made me think of the creepier works of Louis Wain.

Actually, I think all his paintings are creepy, not just the psychotic ones. Somewhere I have a scrapbook that belonged to some relative, full of pictures of talking cats and animals dressed and walking upright. I've always found it unsettling.

I had an idea last night. Seeing as Favorit is open from 8am to 3am, I want to go there with my camera and tripod and stay there the whole 19 hours. I wonder if the staff would mind. The tripod might get in the way a bit, but they probably wouldn't care if I kept spending.

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August 2nd, 2002. Time to check the fuses

Apparently, my fridge needs rewiring.

I'm not a fridge expert. But the landlord sent an electrician round the other day. He went round everything in the house, with a test-box that made lots of beeping and clicking noises. I sneaked a look at his clipboard, and next to "Fridge" he'd written REWIRE in big letters. Any day now I'll get a letter from the landlord saying "we need to get you a new fridge".

Staying in for the electrician meant that I didn't get to the office until lunchtime. Just as I sat down at my desk, everything stopped.

Well, enough things stopped to make me realise something was up. All the computers had gone off, for one thing, and their fans had stopped spinning. Power cut.

A bit later, the boss came back from lunch. "It could come back on at any moment," he said. "Three, two one..." snap of his fingers. Nothing happened, of course. "I'd better phone the power company," he said.

"Well," he said, after he got off the phone, "you may as well go home. It won't be back on until four." He sat down. Right on cue: whirrrrrrrrrr. bleep bleep bleep. Everything lights up again. We both burst out laughing.

In other news: A dog is not just for christmas, so make sure you take off the wrapping paper. I have *no* idea what that site is really about, of course.

23:16 Comments (4)

August 1st, 2002. Yet another people-watching post

It was just a quick flash.

Walking to work this morning. Another woman, walking in the opposite direction. White shirt with bare forearms. She had tanned skin and blonde hair, and her arms seemed covered in fine blonde hair too

As she passed, I realised it was a close mesh of pale scars. Finely-spaced and parallel. I couldn't help wondering where and why. What made her do something like that, assuming it wasn't an accident.

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