hollymath: (Default)
Having one of those "I'm not doing anything" days because I slept or lazed around all morning.

But since then I've
  • gone to WI craft group where I learned a whole new kind of craft (book folding)
  • a bit of Lib Demmery, including inviting a new Lib Dem to local #libdempint, passing on important e-mails to the people who can do things about them, and agreeing to go to a meeting in a few days
  • e-mailed Metrolink & Northern to try to set up a meeting about how inaccessible Manchester Victoria is (as leader of the VI Steering Group)
  • e-mailed the council guy and the RNIB about the taser thing
  • printed off stuff I need for my book
  • did an update (accidentally two updates) for my Kickstarter backers. The previous update hadn't worked (not surprising when these two nearly didn't either) so the poor fuckers hadn't heard from me since June!
  • ordered new printer ink when I didn't have enough to print off what I needed
I think I still have to convince myself it is okay not to go to yoga tonight. I keep forgetting I have a yoga mat of my own now so I might do a bit here but I think I am still too sinus-infected to go to the class I usually do.

Yoga class

Jan. 24th, 2017 12:08 am
hollymath: (Default)
Here are the things I have learned from three weeks of yoga classes on a Monday evening:
  1. Bring a bottle of water next time. You meant to do that last week, and forgot until you got there and saw someone with one this week. You get more thirsty than you think.
  2. Don't wear the green leggings again. They're in danger of falling down.
  3. You really like yoga even though you worry it's taking an approach to life with a long, complex history and making it into appropriative exercise for white people.
  4. It is okay that you're the only person in the class who can't do a shoulder stand. It's okay that you could do one last week and not this week. You have been reassured that the version you can do (basically, a bridge up against a wall) is just as good. It would help if you believed this but it's something that you know is true and that this is what you'd say to anyone else in your (ha) position.
hollymath: (Default)
So many things are bad right now, I need to remind myself of, and celebrate, the ones that are going well.

I've been to the gym three times in the last week.

I've just about kept up with dishes and laundry.

I did well enough at discharging my duties as VI Steering Group leader that I don't think anyone is disappointed in me yet and we have good, ambitious ideas for the future.

I re-connected with a volunteer at MOSI and have been nudged to get my volunteering there going again.

I've re-ordered my and Andrew's meds before they've run out. I've also made myself a doctor's appointment because I'm aware my mental health has taken a severe nose-dive in the last week.

I've been sort of capable of ignoring social media and reading books instead.

I got a present to my mom in time for her birthday that she really liked -- she said it brought a tear to her eye. I also made a present for [personal profile] mother_bones in time for her birthday and she said she really liked it too.

I've done some planning in hopes of being on the WI committee for next year, focusing on accessibility and member welfare.

I started a facebook group for white people who want to leverage privilege to help the world be less horrible but aren't sure how to do it.
hollymath: (Default)
By which I mean "boring to people who aren't me," not "disagreed with"!

Lately:
  • the "Habitable Zone"
  • whether Curiosity (Mars rover) singing "happy birthday" to itself is sad
  • everything that's wrong with this, since it's a tab I still have open and it irks me more every time I remember it
hollymath: (Default)
By 12:30 this afternoon, I had...
  • gotten out of bed very early (around eight), feeling relatively rested (though my "relative" baselne here is not good right now)
  • did laundry and hung it outside (hooray for sunshine!)
  • walked the dog
  • remembered to take my meds
  • took recycling out, took bins out, and put them back when they were empty
  • wrote a little version of my "migrant story" for this website
  • texted a friend to make plans to get together this week
  • ordered a massive, overdue online grocery shop, which will be here tomorrow afternoon
  • typed up my shitty longhand notes from the LGBT+ Lib Dems conference I was at recently and sent them off
  • went with Andrew to a GP appointment
  • ordered new prescriptions for Andrew and I before we've even run out of the existing ones (though it'll be close, for me!)
  • ate reasonably well/appropriately
And yet I feel like I've done nothing, everything is overwhelming and crushing me.
hollymath: (Default)
  1. It is possible for me to throw something in the "nah, pass it along to someone else" pile for no other reason than this looks far too much like something my ex-girlfriend wore. Seriously. If she were local, she'd be the person I offered that skirt to next.
  2. I personally disapprove of shapewear, both on philosophical grounds -- I've been a lot healthier and happier since I stopped believing that this shape for my body would be better than that one -- and practical grounds -- wearing stuff that squeezes my thighs and hips into a different shape fucking hurts -- but the shapewear of someone a little bit bigger than me? Makes perfect cycling shorts (or wear-under-dresses-that-might-make-my-legs-rub-together-too-much shorts) for me. I don't care if they do have lace at the bottoms of the legs; they're not underwear any more, they're totally shorts.***
* By informal I mean since I was helping them move anyway, [personal profile] mother_bones had a bunch of clothes I could take away, either hers or her boyfriend's wife's. I look forward to wearing something when I next see my family that they compliment me on (which they will, because these clothes look great) and asking me where I got it so I can say, "from my Platonic Wife's boyfriend's wife. Actual wife, in that case."

** By swap I mean I didn't offer any clothes, only take them away. Though having tried them all on this morning, I do have a bunch that I will pass along because they don't suit me.

*** Especially handy since I'm helping [personal profile] mother_bones et al. move to such a great distance away that I might start cycling there! People who I'm used to having within ten-minutes of walking distance will now be in ten minutes' cycling distance. I've been so spoiled having them so nearby...
hollymath: (Default)
  • Wednesday/Thursday: two awful panic attacks two days running, that left me exhausted and miserable because they did their best to ruin every fun thing I was supposed to do
  • Over the weekend: some kind of flu-like thing so I was weak, achy, feverish, and being sick all night instead of sleeping, and again meant I missed something fun I wanted to go to
  • Since Tuesday night: Inexplicable but severe back pain, that again left me on the verge of throwing up in the middle of the night just because it hurt that much, and led to me spending a night in the spare room so I could try to find a comfortable position to lie in.
The back pain is still going on, but it's been progressively better the last couple of days.

Today I intend to relax and not have anything new happen to me. I think I've earned it.
hollymath: (Default)
1. I'm bleeding near the food.
2. I'm still bleeding a lot.
3. Trying to unwrap the band-aid makes my finger (index of course) a bit oozy again.
4. One band-aid doesn't quite cover it (it's a fingertip, of course, a topological area notoriously poorly-served by two-dimensional band-aids).
5. I can't finish making dinner like this because I don't want it to start bleeding again.
6. I can't finish making dinner like this because it hurts like a bastard and I feel sorry for myself even as I feel stupid for the self-imposed injury.
7. I can't knit, because it asks way too much of that index fingertip.
8. I can't concentrate on reading or answering text messages or anything really because the pain is distracting.
9. I'm bored.
10. My fucking finger still really fucking hurts.
hollymath: (Default)
1. There's a picture of an actual quick brown fox jumping over a lazy dog that, every time he sees it, makes Andrew really happy. He says it's because the fox and the dog both look so happy.

Human happiness may or may not make Andrew happy, but dog happiness almost always does.

2. He bought a bunch of fancy chocolate the other day. A lot of it's stuff he knows I don't like fruit in my chocolate, or salt, or milk) but one of them is mint dark chocolate. He keeps all the chocolate in the fridge, and I just noticed that the mint dark chocolate is underneath the punnet of mushrooms.

As if to say "this one's been claimed by Holly, for mushrooms are her weird food and nothing to do with me."
hollymath: (Default)
1) Cooking with bell peppers

2) Vacuuming

3) Putting all the blankets on the bed and snuggling under them


A normal housewife would be expected to take advantage of such opportunities to have an affair or something similarly exciting. But that sounds like a lot of work. Think I'll go to sleep instead.
hollymath: (Default)
So apparently Woody Guthrie's list of New Year's Resolutions for 1942 looked like this:

1. Work more and better
2. Work by a schedule
3. Wash teeth if any
4. Shave
5. Take bath
6. Eat good — fruit — vegetables — milk
7. Drink very scant if any
8. Write a song a day
9. Wear clean clothes — look good
10. Shine shoes
11. Change socks
12. Change bed cloths often
13. Read lots good books
14. Listen to radio a lot
15. Learn people better
16. Keep rancho clean
17. Dont get lonesome
18. Stay glad
19. Keep hoping machine running
20. Dream good
21. Bank all extra money
22. Save dough
23. Have company but dont waste time
24. Send Mary and kids money
25. Play and sing good
26. Dance better
27. Help win war — beat fascism
28. Love mama
29. Love papa
30. Love Pete
31. Love everybody
32. Make up your mind
33. Wake up and fight

It makes me glad I already like him so much, so I don't have to start liking him now; I'd have a lot of catching up to do.
hollymath: (Default)
Today is Andrew's first day at his New Job! Hooray!

The idea is the new job will be better for him than the one that's been making him seriously ill with a panoply of stress-related illnesses for the last year or two.

But he was understandably nervous because it's his first day, and also because he's worried about not having flexitime any more, at least until he and the new job get used to each other, which he seems to need because of his sleep disorder.

So I thought I'd try to give him some reasons to feel good about being in work today:
  1. I just vacuumed the hallway. (I can't vacuum while Andrew is here because it sets off his asthma.) Later I might clean the bathroom. (Ditto.)
  2. He has taken over the desk of a Ukip supporter. (It'd be just like Eastleigh except Ukip never had a seat to lose.)
  3. That Guy across the street is endlessly, uselessly, revving his car again. The windows are vibrating. (This is the guy who once, when he was doing this, Andrew went across the street to politiely ask how much longer this was going to be becuase the fumes were making him sick. The guy responded by, a couple of days later, hollering through our window and banging on the door shouting because Andrew had woken up from a nap to answer the phone when he didn't have a shirt on. It was summer and Andrew's is surely not the first or worst bare chest the guy had seen; it was a clear if odd retaliation for Andrew putting up with only a couple of hours of stationary-car-revving before he making a polite request. The guy took it so far as to berate a man for being decently covered in his own home and saying "my kid has to look at that!"; the poor kid being dragged out specially to make the point, stood there silent and gormless.)

Hope that helps.
hollymath: (i love)
So the list of things that make me run into things/knock stuff over in a screwball-comedy type manner is now
  1. The Moon
  2. tractors
  3. women wearing patterned tights
I'm okay with that.
hollymath: (Default)
  • Coming out, and reactions to it that are worse than you think.
  • Britishness, Englishness and the Life in the UK test.
  • How to be a worthwhile human even when you're not being "productive"
    • especially "...in gainful employment"
Too tired, though.   Too goddam tired, all the time.

hollymath: (manchester weather)
Last night at work I had to suffer through the hideous X Factor finale, and talked with (or was talked at by) a very excited colleague about this.   Despite her boundless enthusiasm for the show, which mostly seemed to murder perfectly good Christmas songs that hadn't done anything to anybody that warranted such maltreatment, she was also trying to start a campaign to get Status Quo's single to be the Christmas number one, rather than the now-expected phenomenon of the X Factor winner receiving that particular honor unquestioned.

(Today Andrew's sister told me the winner's recorded a cover version of "Hallelujah," of all things, and that's sure to be the Christmas number one.  As Andrew said, shrugging, "I won't have to listen to it, and it'll help pay for Leonard Cohen's retirement"... yeah, but... can you think of a less Christmasy song?)

Last year I desperately wanted Malcolm Middleton's "We're All Going to Die" to make it, but this year I haven't paid any attention at all to the possible contenders -- clearly I'm not listening to enough Radio 2.  So I asked my colleague what the Status Quo one was like, and she said it was "a proper Christmas single."  Pressed for what that meant, by me the weirdo freak from a country that doesn't even have proper singles any  more and never had Christmas ones, she elaborated that it was "cheesy and full of goodwill, like the old Wizzard and Slade ones."    Well, I had to admit that sounded good.  Having just heard the Wizzard one butchered by one of these X Factor people on the telly, I came to appreciate that as much as I might dislike the band normally, they were better at singing that song than other slicker, flashier acts.  Christmas songs should be a bit more scruffy I think, which is one of the reasons "Fairy Tale of New York" is probably my favorite.  Not quite full of goodwill, but then who is at Christmas, really?  Think about what it'd mean if they got their wish for it to be Christmas every day.

Anyway, it got me thinking about Christmas singles, and how they're really a strange new thing to me still.  I don't even think I was properly aware of them until last year (though I suppose I must have gotten some idea of them from being subjected to Love Actually), and while I did think a couple of weeks ago that it was good to hear John Lennon's Christmas song blaring out of a shop's speakers, I realize they're just not going to have the same resonance for me because I didn't' grow up with them.  Though I'm rather fond of them now and would miss them if they were gone.

And then, because I had to sit still and watch the door for a while, I picked up a scrap of paper and wrote "Christmas singles" on it.  I looked at it for a while and then wondered what else I might now miss if it were gone.  I suppose it's going back to America that made me think of it.  I spend a lot of time wittering on about everything I miss there, and figure it's only fair I give equal time to their opposite numbers, the shadow cabinet of nostalgia, if you will.

 
  • Christmas singles
  • David Attenborough
  • pints
  • Oyster cards
  • Radio 4
  • atheist politicians
  • Stephen Fry
  • pasties
  • a cynical media
  • the Angel of the North
  • blue plaques
  • being able to say "toilet"
  • cricket on the radio
  • the NHS
  • curry
  • ridiculously vague weather forecasts
  • relegation
  • passenger trains
  • geographical specificity
  • policemen without guns
  • the BBC
  • the seaside
  • competing daily newspapers
  • Lush
  • football songs
  • no death penalty
  • multicultural holidays: Eid, Diwali, Chinese New Year, etc.
  • civil unions
  • ubiquitous tea
  • posh people
  • bonfire night
  • eccentricity
What would you miss about where you are, if you left?
hollymath: (eyebrow)
Tidying the house just now I found an old notebook.

Old notebooks make me cringe, but I can't not look at them. Apparently this is how other people think about car crashes. But it's why I can't keep a paper journal.

Since I don't try any more, though, they're not quite so scary and can be charming. On a page in this one, between a to-do list from soon after I moved here in early 2006 and the notes I took for my Life in the UK test on the train home from Penrith about a year ago, I find this:
  • geek knowledge ownership?
  • eccentricity
  • family politics
  • unskilled worker
No, I don't know either.

Student

Jul. 13th, 2008 01:59 am
hollymath: (tanpint)
One morning a month or two ago I spent all the time I should've been showering and getting ready for work just looking for clean, dry clothes I could wear. I ended up unshowered and in damp underwear and socks, sitting uncomfortably on the bus, thinking I don't want to live like a student any more.

It's been a recurring thought since then. I am 26. I have been married for two and a half years. We're working full-time and renting a nice okay flat. All this would've seemed so distant and... adult as to seem alien to younger versions of me, and yet having gotten here I'm disappointed to tell those younger mes that I'm finding it pretty much the same as their lives but, which each passing day, further from being able to use their excuse.

What excuse? All through my actual teenage and college-student life, I seemed to be under the unconscious assumption that it was okay to be ridiculously feckless and slovenly and disorganized because it's normal, expected, of people that age. I'd look at my parents and their friends and see such a gulf between them and myself that it was obvious at some point there'd have to be some magical transition. I could see no way from here to there.

Still can't.

I don't want to live like a student any more.
+ With Andrew's help I dealt with the overflowing kitchen bin, which hadn't had a proper bin bag put in it last time because I couldn't find them, and thus had just filled up with trash and sticky things and smelly things over the past couple of days, with me increasingly thinking I really have to do something about that. Well this morning, I finally did.

- Oh, by "this morning" I actually mean "this afternoon." We woke up about noon, and I didn't get out of bed until half-past... a rarity for me, as I rarely lay in bed awake. It tends to make me groggy and lethargic, whereas if I get my feet on the ground first thing, I can usually be in the shower or making breakfast before my brain even registers that I am awake.

+ I did the dishes, almost first thing this morning. I didn't want to, but I did. All of them. And dried them and put them away. And with the Hold Steady playing live on Radcliffe and Maconie (Craig Finn's speaking voice is even more delicious than his singing voice, mm), it went pretty fast and wasn't too painful.

+ I also wiped all the countertops, with the new nice-smelling lemony kitchen cleaner. Again, all of them. Under the toaster and the coffee maker and everything. (Andrew nearly asked me what I'd done with the coffee maker, not recognizing it there on the counter just because it'd gotten turned around in my labors. The weirdness of his brain never fails to amaze me.)

+ I went grocery shopping, and took Andrew with me. We spent more than I do on my own, but I hope that means he doesn't have to go buy himself chicken kievs every day as they make for an expensive meal.

- We put all the food away but I also left my purse and umbrella on the kitchen floor, where they still remain.

+ I bought a new pan, a little cast-iron skillet that purports to be a "Mexican fajita skillet" but which I thought would work pretty well for other things too. I needed something like that; my cookware is almost all giveaways from family, except the pots and pans from Argos.

- After carefully following the instructions to season it and prepare it for cooking, I nearly ruined them by getting egg stuck everywhere on it. Though much of it seems to have come off now, I feel stupid. I meant to cook the eggs in the other frying pan...

+ I put in a load of laundry when I started the dishes this morning, took it out when it was done and put another load in.

- The first load was just tossed on my bed, where it remained until about half an hour ago when I hung it up to dry. The other is still in the washing machine. I never learn that putting off laundry just because I hate it never makes it better. It only gets worse, of course, and then I hate it more, and then I put it off more...

+ I pulled the sheets off the bed to wash them too. It seems I do this all the time in the summer, and it's still never enough to keep the bed from smelling weird.

- I did this after I'd thrown the wet laundry on the bed, but didn't see it as an excuse to do anything about said laundry; I just yanked the sheet from under the piles of wet heavy clothes, telling myself there was nothing wrong with this. And I left the bed naked, unbelinened, until just now.

- I couldn't find the other fitted sheet (yes, we only have two; there used to be three but then one basically disintegrated). How ludicrous! Where can you hide such a thing in such a small place? After looking where it should've been at least three times, without this tactic even once making the sheet magically appear, I dimly remembered Andrew saying "I can't hang up that sheet, there's no room until some other things have dried..." Which probably meant he'd put it in that cardboard box his trousers are usually kept in --

- yes, many of our clothes are kept in cardboard boxes

+ but they are separated as to what type of clothes they are! my t-shirts are in one cardboard box, his trousers are in another...

So anyway I looked under a pile of trousers and, sure enough, there was my fitted sheet. I was afraid after not having dried properly and languishing under these clothes it would be unusable, but it has somehow dried and though it smells a bit weird (but in a different way than the unwashed sheet smells weird, and a non-mildewy kind of way) it's totally fine and it's on the bed now. But hey, at least that means

+ I changed the sheets on my bed! And not even to impress a potential date or anything.

- I am still up at two in the morning

- I turned my computer back on just to write this entry, having thought of most of it during the hunt for the bed sheet (and then the grueling attempt to get it on the bed without smearing peanut butter on it as I was trying to eat a late-night snack at the same time).

+ I'm going to turn it off now and curl up with a book of poetry (Leonard Cohen +/-?) or Andrew if he gets here first.

Well by my count that's 10 pluses and 9 minuses, so a narrow victory today. And largely because I was making a concerted effort to do all those non-studenty things, like clean up the kitchen and buy and cook food, which have been ignored while I've been working this week. The minuses, like old boxes being used to store clothes, are more pervasive.
hollymath: (Default)
"Your ... baboushka," Andrew called it last night, and he also successfully got me to wonder if that isn't the funniest thing about it.

Can there possibly be a thing I find at all amusing that Andrew does not? I wouldn't have thought so, what with his ever-growing collection of DVDs I never want to see and the fact that he actually knew enough not to bother me about going to see Richard Herring in a few weeks because he has finally learned it's not worth the effort.

Still the answer seems to be yes, and it is The Mighty Boosh.

I first became acquainted with it when [livejournal.com profile] diffrentcolours was doing complicated things to my laptop, so we had time to watch many of them. Andrew showed up for the last few and I was surprised later on when he was more bemused than amused. I generally assume that anything I like he will like, but then I realize now this is largely because they're all things he already knows about and he isn't going to show me things he doesn't like. Plus he's picked really good things: Blackadder, Red Dwarf, various incarnations of The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy that I didn't know about, Spaced, Black Books, Father Ted... who doesn't like those? And, not having a TV or anything, I have no way of finding out about other things on my own most of the time. So this is an anomaly.

"Monkey whimsy," he also called it, with great scorn and derision in his voice. Oh ho, that's rich!, I thought. If anybody in this house is going to think that anything about our primate friends is funny, it is him. Consider the evidence:
  • He keeps going on about how great comics are if they have talking gorillas in them. (I know gorillas are not monkeys, but I think they're tarred with the same brush as far as entertaining Andrew goes.)
  • He insisted our credit card have the purple picture of a gorilla on it rather than something I would actually want to look at, and has often called it "the monkey card."
  • He lovingly regaled me with an entire Richard Herring sketch about the hilarious consequences of replacing part of a fast-food chain's jingle (namely "We're having a Wimpys") with "We're fucking a monkey." And now, I think, it is on one of those DVDs that I don't want to watch; I know I've heard it since.
  • He cannot hear the phrase "monkey monkey monkey monkey William Shatner" without giggling. Even if he's already heard it so many times, and laughed so much, that he is in severe danger of vomiting.
But he insists this is an accepted phrase for "that sort of thing," the phenomenon of people expecting things to be funny just because they're random. The (first0 problem with this being, of course, not only is there nothing funny there, but that monkeys have become a cliché for this sort of thing so they're not even random, any more than ninjas or zombies or pirates.

I don't know if he just brought to my attention something that was already there, if it was just the headache I couldn't shake, or if we were just watching a couple of intrinsically sub-par episodes last night, but it took the shine off for me. Unrelenting randomness would be bad enough — it's something I expect from the internet, where I used to complain about seeing idiots who advertised their blogs as "random" just because they belonged to a slightly different pop-culture subculture fandom niche from their friends and would make stupid references to anime that their friends had not yet watched. It's not a shorthand for anything genuinely funny or amusing.

And this is worse than that, because as Andrew said it feels like people who are just on TV because their friends at unversity said they were funny. Of course that made my next move all too obvious, but before I could even mention Monty Python or Fry and Laurie or the billions of other things, most of which I know about only because of him, that depend on people at university thinking they were funny. But he rightly pointed out, before I could even speak, that the Pythons and such actually worked hard writing sketches for things, being involved in other people's shows, and didn't just ... I dunno, go to universities full of people doing Media Studies and a world of millions of cable channels that need filler.

Plus, they all had brains. Things to say. These guys don't. And I get the feeling that if I want to hear men talk about their hair and how much better it is to be cool than to be weird, I could just start paying attention to the people I work with. They are, not to put too fine a point on it, the things I want to escape from in my audiovisual entertainment.

There are two problems with my newfound enlightenment about The Mighty Boosh:
  • I finished off the first series just now (which was actually the first two episodes I saw with [livejournal.com profile] diffrentcolours and [livejournal.com profile] greyeyedeve) and I'm sure I'm going to borrow the second series from Andrew's brother when we give this one back to him, and
  • I know that no matter how much I might grow to despise this show, I am addicted to the theme song. I don't know why! I don't think it helps that it's so entertaining to watch [livejournal.com profile] greyeyedeve sing and dance along with it. But it just sounds perfect. I love it so much. It's an affliction.
hollymath: (socks)
That I can post this entry at all is far more monumental than it looks.

  1. How much I like Andrew's uncle, who's cool anyway but has been very nice recently, promising that interesting and lucrative things are in our future, and assuring us that we won't starve in the meantime.
  2. How happy I am now that I bought a jar of cumin.
  3. How I worry about money even though I know I'm Not Allowed To, and how I worry about Andrew worrying about money and about work and I'm not supposed to do this either, both because he asked me not to and because it's a stupid vicious cycle of worrying about worrying about worrying about things. I'm trying to be good, but sometimes it's hard to keep going, to be patient and reasonable.
  4. How good [livejournal.com profile] thenationalpep's first album is going to be.
  5. How, now that I can check my e-mail again, I see that I got one from my mom, jumbling together the new skirt she already told me about and her sister calling her to say that she's heard from Chris, who wanted to say he's happy and they shouldn't worry. (It wouldn't be so bad if she had any sense of paragraphs, but it wouldn't be so good either. Her e-mails are like roller coasters, but I like roller coasters.)
  6. How I learned what Bovril is.
  7. How Andrew & I met our upstairs neighbors tonight when they knocked on our door and asked if we were afraid of bees.
  8. How I heard Andrew shout louder than I've ever heard him shout before. It wasn't at me! (It was at BT. He spent his first four hours of wakefulness on the phone today I told you it was amazing I can post this entry!), getting slowly angrier and angrier. And thank goodness for that! He sounded very intimidating.
  9. How I got to call 999 last night (which is British for 911), because Andrew saw somenoe outside our bedroom window.
  10. How Jeffrey Dahmer is the solution to all problems one might have with writing fiction.

Yorkshire

Mar. 10th, 2006 12:36 pm
hollymath: (socks)
Andrew & I were planning to go to Leeds tomorrow, to see [livejournal.com profile] elrestodemivida's band & some other bands, but today he is suddenly busy with work & can't go.

"Can I still go to Bradford?" I joked, because his uncle was in the room when he told me he couldn't go to Leeds, and his uncle had been planning on giving us a ride to Bradford as he's going there tomorrow. I wanted to go to Bradford because of the Bradford Film Festival. And we have a friend who lives there, who even gets free tickets to all the films!

"Of course you can go," Andrew said. "Let me know about giving you a lift," his uncle said. Which really isn't what I expected at all; they should've said, "You silly girl, you can't go places by yourself!"

Oh, I know I go some places by myself now, but that's places in Manchester! I've never been to Bradford. And the prospect of having to find a specific place & person there seems out of my league. So I don't know yet.

I do like Yorkshire, though. Here is everything I know about all of Yorkshire:
  • It is almost okay to like it, according to Andrew, because it's better than everywhere else that isn't Lancashire.
  • I spent a touristy day with [livejournal.com profile] setharoo in York & had a lovely time; I want to go back there.
  • All kinds of interesting things were said about it in Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, and while most of them were made-up, it still leaves me with a nice feeling about the place.
  • I like to listen to Yorkshire accents, which I realized only recently is Jake Thackray's fault.
  • And if I go there tomrrow I can see lots of films!
See, it must be good.

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Holly

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