vicks6
There will be a small pauseI am a combination of too narked and too tired (in varying proportions depending on the way the wind is blowing mainly) to post here for a few days.
Run along and look at something more entertaining.
Reading...So I am having insomnia at the moment. 3am insomnia.
I am not sure it isn't linked with reading, and particularly the book I am reading (which, to be frank, is nothing special, but which is compelling enough to keep me turning the pages and (possibly partially at least) driving sleep away).
In a multi-tasky kind of a way, I was thinking about reading. I had not read properly for so long, but now I seem to go nowhere without a book. There is something about immersing yourself in another world, even if that world is one of non-fiction, but unfamiliar non-fiction, which allows you to lose yourself and to live a different life. I had forgotten the pleasure of that until recently. I had forgotten that sometimes I need to go and be elsewhere, where someone else will solve the problems, and resolve everything for me. Where all I need to do is to sit, or lie, or wallow, and read and read and read.
When I read I completely inhabit the world of the book. Whilst I am reading, if the book has anything to it (and even bad books sometimes have this quality) I can not be me. I can be the person looking in on the world in which the book is set, and be away from myself, and my thoughts, and my actions. I can not think. I had forgotten. I am glad I remembered.
And sometimes a book you read throws light on those problems, and, even whilst I am inhabiting that world, I am (not literally) open mouthed with fear/delight/joy/terror at the parallels I am able to draw, and the illumination it has cast on the world outside. The world I would be in were it not for the book world. And, again, that isn't just with "good" books; it can be with pretty trashy books as well.
I had also forgotten that I quite like writing. Although anyone looking back at the triteness of early posts here would be forgiven for thinking that I never wrote anyway. But I am remembering that there was a time when I wanted to write. When I believed the (almost certainly) myth that everyone has a novel in them. I think it came before the time when I wrote (almost certainly) extremely bad poetry.
But I don't think I've ever written like this before; not particularly caring who, if anyone, reads it. Well, actually I think I did earlier, but I edited much, much more then (well, again, you can tell that by the trite and length (lack of it) of the posts). There are things which I would never write here, because someone might read them, but things that I can refer to obliquely so that I will know what they mean, even if I am pretty sure that no-one else will get the significance. And more, I suppose, that I am happy to share with anyone who happens to be passing by. But it seems to be enough that I want to write things down for me, so that I won't forget them (now that I am old and raddled, ofc (please to read with sense of irony)).
And on the subject of books, on a more mundane note, I went shopping today. I had an M&S voucher and a Waterstones voucher. I thought best to knock off the M&S one first; and 10 minutes had that done. After that, Waterstones (and I so must spend a few hours in the Piccadilly one soon, if only the conquer my fear of its vastness). Oh the joy of having money to spend, and unlimited books to buy (well, I say that. Obviously not the ones I have already bought, or the frankly really bad ones. Or the Bible, or a dictionary. I could go on. You get the point....). So I had an orange yoghurt moment, and went to the popular science section. Two books down. And then the sci fi/fantasy section, which yielded another 4 books. I used to read an amount of fantasy back in the days when I read thick books (although I have read Don Quixote, I'll have you know), and it's a bit of a joy to come back to it. And I am thinking of going back to the 100 Best Loved Books. But to do that I will have to read War and Peace. Perhaps in September then...
But it's 3.15 in the morning now. I should go back to bed either to sleep or finish the book I started earlier...
So tired...I really wish I could sleep on planes. But try as I might, and even with a flat bed (and it is, and, being short, it is long enough for me; I'd doubt whether it is long enough for tall people, but, to be honest, they can bend their legs) I just can't get any decent sleep at all. I think I managed all of 10 minutes last night. So I watched films instead. I started with Bride Wars, on the simple expedient that it was bound to be a completely rubbish film, and it wouldn't therefore matter at all if I fell asleep at any point. But I didn't. And it was OK, in a girly schmaltzy type of a way. If you like that sort of a thing. Then it was the Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which is curiously reminiscent (although the essential premise is different) to the Time Traveller's Wife. I enjoyed, other than the fact that an announcement broke in on the last 3 minutes or so, which managed to bork the film, so I missed that bit. But I don't think it was anything overly amazingly twisty turny, so perhaps I will manage to see the end of it sometime.
Actually, that rather reminds me of Grease, which I was taken to by a colleague of my mother's about 6 weeks after everyone else saw it. I have no idea why she didn't take me, but she didn't. And we missed the start, so for ages and ages and ages I had no idea why there was an Australian in an American school, and what the back story was. I rather wish the internet had been available, and then perhaps I would have known! Or known earlier, anyway.
So, what else in New York is there to say... We had the obligatory walk in Central Park (although it rained), after taking a tour of Grand Central Terminus (there are apparently two stations; let that be a lesson). It takes about an hour and 45 minutes, and goes all over the station (because it is a station, notwithstanding also being a terminus). It was actually pretty interesting, but only takes place once a week on Wednesdays. And has the merit of being free.
Yesterday we did nothing much other than go to Katz Delicatessen (I could probably do links, but I really, really can't be arsed, to be honest; everything is googleable for anyone really interested) which is where
that scene in When Harry Met Sally was filmed. The counter system is really confusing there, and, if we'd seen it in time, I'd probably have opted to go for waiter serviced tables. Basically, there are different servers for different types of food (and even if you order breakfast number 1, you have to go to three different people to assemble the ingredients). But there are no signs or anything to tell you where to go, so you just have to look pathetic, and hope that the serving people are in good enough moods to tell you what to do. Slowly, and not gabblingly. Luckily I am a past master at the pathetic look (I could probably give master class lessons in it, to be honest).
But most excitingly yesterday, I got a manicure. Someone I work with said to get a manicure in New York "because they cost nothing". Now, that it blatently untrue, but it is exciting because it is the first time I have ever had a manicure, because (a) it's the first time that all of my finger nails have been long enough and (b) it's been the first time that I have not been embarrassed at their kemptness (or, of course, previously, unkemptness). So I have been waggling my fingers around ever since. Of course, once confronted with an array of colours to have painted, I couldn't decide, and just opted for clear. Perhaps I'll go for lime green next time...
40 /sighSo I had a lovely, lovely birthday yesterday. As set out. But I thought that I should mention that it was lovely.
But now I have to be 40. I am hoping that doesn't mean I have to be sensible and mature. And I am frankly suspicious of the maxim that life begins at 40. I suspect that line to be peddled by people who say that your schooldays are the best days of your life. I remarked at about 16 that I was pretty buggered if that was really so, and I didn't see much point in continuing with life (that was a pretty fair reflection on my schooldays, I feel. They were pretty shit, all told). That was not a popular observation, as I recall. But I do feel a tiny bit more together, and as if (with some people, I am well aware that it doesn't work with everyone, thank you very much!) my opinions have some weight behind them.
Rupert Everett was very good. I have had a soft spot for him for many, many years, so it was lovely (on my birthday) to see him in action (no! not that; he is not in Naked Men Singing!), and discover that he is not made to look a better actor on television and on film than he actually is. And a rare occurance; as the programme makes clear, he rarely appears on stage. So yay all told then!
Rupert Everett!!!!!So we are off to see Rupert Everett and Angela Lansbury in Blithe Spirit this evening on Broadway! I meant to see Blithe Spirit (never having done so before) when it was in London recently, but didn't get round to it (so if there's one new year's resolution I really ought to have it is to actually book up for things I want to go and see (ummm, Tim Minchin anyone?)), so am particularly pleased to be seeing it here. Hopefully there will be no last minute understudy action. Also pleased because the proper price of the tickets would be over $500. We are not even paying a quarter of that. Happy days!
Spent the day going to see Ellis Island (and the Statue of Liberty from the boat; I am not sure it bears more than that), and looking around the South Street Seaport Museum. I am a sucker for a nautical museum these days. We then got the tour bus (hop on hop off thingy) to do the Harlem section of it, which also took in masses of Central Park as well.
The weather has been largely sucky since we have been here, but today has been lovely; not too hot, and not too cold. And pretty bright sunlight. Nice.
Tomorrow is Central Park (the inside) and a tour of Grand Central Station. Am looking forward. Although it seemed as though we had ages here, and it is going disconcertingly fast...
But so far, it has been a lovely day, and a great way to spend a 40th. Am recommending New York for all birthday people (although, when asked for my top tips,
I would make some comment on how to work the Metro system rather than recommending tourist sights. That would be more practically useful).
You will have good luck and overcome many hardshipsIs what my fortune cookie from last night said. Nice to have the good luck, but could I have it without the hardships, please?
Today's word of the day is pule. I shall try and avoid doing that, but I may fail. Maybe that's a hardship to overcome.
A handbag...?One of my goals in New York was to buy a handbag which was bigger than the one I am using at the moment. I am delighted to say that I have succeeded in buying one with so many pockets to it that I will lose all my stuff.
I have as many problems with handbags as I do with shoes. Basically, I don't like the prissy girly stuff which tends to adorn them. I like a sleek, functional handbag, with no
gubbins on it. I have just about succeeded in getting an unadorned handbag; it has something which looks a little like a horse brass on the front, but I shall get used to that, no doubt. And it's designer, which has to count for something (no, not Prada, Armani, or anything like that; I am not made of money).
We were passing Maison du Chocolat on an open topped bus earlier today, and it occured to me; if my house were made of chocolate, I'd be homeless pretty quickly, which would defeat the object. Also, you couldn't have any heating on, else the chocolate would melt. And it would be slightly bizarre if you brushed against the walls having chocolate all over you. All told, I think it not to be practical.
I have not much else to say about today; we went around in said bus (one of those hop on, hop off affairs), went to the top of the Rockefeller Centre (very high, good views), and then to buy the handbag. Am blooming exhausted now. Dinner in Chinatown tonight, after Little Italy yesterday. Tomorrow, who knows, as it is my birthday, so we are going to try and see a show. Since Naked Men Singing has been banned (despite the fact that it is the longest running show Off Broadway, so it clearly has some considerable artistic merit) so it will either be Chicago, or Blithe Spirit (the latter of which has Rupert Everett and Angela Lansbury (who clearly is not dead; I thought that she was) in it).
Some things...So I am updating this more than I thought that I would. It is very handy having free internet in the room, and very useful that everywhere is on the internet, so I have it all fired up anyway. It's been a horridly hot day today; humidity has been at 84% and it's been trying to rain. A bit like London at Wimbledon time then! Apparently, it's going to be sunnier tomorrow, so we'll do more of the touristy things then, I think.
But for the moment, and whilst J has a doze (I am not sleeping again, it is very boring), some random thoughts...
On the plane I listened to a mediation thingy (I say thingy, cos I don't really know what it was; perhaps a demonstration?). I must admit, I was expecting it to be a load of old arse, but it was actually quite good. It recommended seeing yourself in a hall with a floor made of marble (why marble though? It slightly worried me that it was so specific), and with the walls made of stone, and with a load of wooden doors in them. Above one of the doors was my name (how did they know I would be there?), and through the door was my private place. I must admit to seeing the Hall as being a bit like Hogwarts (as to which; will I be able to re-read all the books before the next film?). But I was quite comfortable with the idea of the private place and deep breathing. And it did help a little today to calm me down when we managed to completely stuff up being on the Subway, and getting on Express traings instead of local ones. The trains are air conditioned (which is nice). The actual stations, not so much. So I was getting all hot and bothered. So hurrah for the little-bit-wanky-but-actually-OK meditation for calming me down.
Over breakfast (this is in sort of the wrong order, I now notice) the telly was on, and there was some evangelist spouting something (the sound was not up very high, but it was God stuff). In one of the hiatuses (hiati?) in the room, I heard him saying that the Bible says that if you ask God for something he will give it to you. Well, that's just not true, is it? Leaving aside the existence of God completely (and it's probably best to do so), it just isn't true that if I ask for what I want I will get it. There are a whole raft of things that I just won't get however much I want them; a father to give a present to today being just one of them. Now I've always pretty much accepted that, but it does gall for someone to bang on about believing right, and the Bible saying something that *isn't true*. It's annoying in the extreme. But rant over on that!
We went to the Strand Bookstore also today. It worries me that I know that Robert Pattinson (a) plays Edward Cullen in Twilight (a film I have not seen adapted from a book I have not read), (b) is from Barnes, and (c) was run over there last week whilst filming another film in which (d) he is rumoured to be having an affair with his co-star. Really, my head is filled with so much rubbish. I am sure that I could lose some of it. But anyway, there are 18 miles of books (who measured? Really, who did, cos it's all pretty windy, so you'd have had to do it with string, I reckon?). I got that feeling that I often get in shops with
too much in them, that I just couldn't focus on looking at anything, because there was
too much. In the end, I had to leave with only three books. And the two bags that an excessively cheeky friend asked me to get for him. But it is a wondrous shop, and I would like to go back at some point with time and money, and an empty suitcase. And possibly Inspector Gadget, or someone equally tall, as the shelves go up to the high ceilings, and were too high for me to reach some of the books.
Oh, and in a thinking about words stylee, I was thinking about the use of stuffs today. Stuffs, I think, it perfectly acceptable for a concatenation of otherwise unlinked things. Whereas stuff is better for a concatenation of otherwise linked things. I bet I use neither in that context though, and I am employing a degree of sophistry. Which is a bad thing to be doing all told.
As to which, word of the day is tutelary. I have no occasion to use it, but I quite like it nonetheless.
Oh andThere will be typos here. This netbook is very small, with a weeny keyboard, and the table is high, and the chair low. It conspires against me. So there will be typos. I am easy with that.
Soooo, ennui...
I was thinking about this yesterday (largely whilst waiting in JFK Airport, as to which, more later), but it struck me that ennui is not appropriate for airports. I shall expound...
When you're about the fly somewhere (I typed someone there. That is completely different), it seems to me that the overwhelming sensation is one of anticipation; waiting for the flight to board, buying anythingg you've forgotten. I suppose, and this is a grudging concession I've only just thought of, that you might feel a twinge of ennui if you'd left entirely too much time between check in and the flight leaving, but I think that would be easily assuaged with some decent reading matter. And I would defy anyone to feel even a twinge of ennui in the "Clubhouse" as Virgin rather poncily call the Upper Class lounge. I could probably have spent a weekend there, to be honest.
But what about when you reach the destination; ennui...? Nah, I reckon it's more like complete frustration; you want to clear customs and immigration as soon as possible to get on with the holiday. It took us over an hour to clear immigration and customs yesterday; I cannot see a good reason for that, and we had to give fingerprints, which was a little alarming. But there were electronic fingerprints (whilst I am sure I can find out how that works, it seems suitably space-y so as not to believe it was really happening. And I had spent some time wondering if they would give us a cloth to wipe the ink off our hands. Silly me!). Then we had to wait for the shared transport to the hotel. I do wonder in the end whether the differential between $34 and the $45 for a cab was worth it. But, to be honest, I have no clear idea, as I have no idea what the dollar is worth at the moment (and there have always been complicated sums to do there; I've never got over there being 10 francs to the pound; I could cope with that).
The hotel and room are fine. The area looks pretty lively, which might be code for red-light, but isn't (as far as I know atm, and there was someone with a red light in a window just opposite yesterday). The bed is suitably squishy, but I am reckoning that I am bound to fall out of it at some point, and it is very very high for a small person.
Is raining at the moment, and J is still asleep, so not sure what we will do. Perhaps departments stores, perhaps Museum of Modern Art. Perhaps I will beat this netbook into submission so that it works properly and doesn't go offline every now and again. Or not, otherwise I would be in right trouble.
New York, New York, the traffic and the noise...So, it's really 2am in any sensible time zone. But here it's only about 9pm. But I'm still pretty awake, notwithstanding the flight, and a strange ride to the hotel (there's a kind of shared transfer service; I'm not absolutely sure I can explain in writing at 2 in the morning) with a snippy Australian.
The check in and flight were magnificent, largely because J had booked us Upper Class without letting me know. There was a sale apparently. Hurrah! The lounge was amazing; although we thought it best to leave it until midday for champagne. Flight was also wonderful with flat bed chairs (ones which turn into flat beds; they aren't chairs and flat beds at the same time, that wouuldn't work). And I managed to get some sleep (which I *never* do on planes). Also watched
Slumdog Millionaire and
Coraline, and cried at the former, of course.
I am going to, when more awake, take issue with the assertion that you can identify airports with ennui. But I need to marshall my arguments carefully. But I will be pitching for a mixture of expectation and frustration. Let there be due warning, and salvos across the bows...
Sneaking...So I'm checking the trains at the moment. Only, of course, I have snuck on here first. I am hoping that I am not going to find it impossible to do other than blog. That would render it a bit pointless going all the way to America
just to sit in front of a computer! I am sure I will not though.
Am deliberately over-tired on the sneaky basis that we have a 6 hour flight which takes off at something like 2 and lands at something like 4. So if I can lose time by sleeping, then I should avoid jet-lag. Well, that's the theory, but I don't do jet-lag anyway. I consider it all to be a state of mind, and am very stern with myself about it. I convince myself I am just tired because I have been in one place for a while, and that makes me fidgety at the best of times.
Anyway, off to to airport (yes, leaving at 8am for a 2pm flight...).
What happened to my post?So, I started writing a post earlier, and then thought better of it, and replaced it with something else, but then Blogger just went and posted the original one which I had thought better of in the first place.
So I deleted it, but it didn't delete the whole post.
OMG, technology.
So this blog (I've just looked at the archives because I am still thinking about how to phrase/structure the thing I am writing, and need time away from it to think about it) is really not about the impartation of any meaningful information in any way, shape or form. It's just an excuse to witter randomly (and usually rant) about stuff. Because usually I do feel the need to rant about things. Although it would be fair to say of late I have not felt in a particularly ranty mood (although perhaps people haven't noticed the lack of the rant, but, trust me, I've felt
far less ranty); other moods perhaps, but not ranty!
And it doesn't do reviews. I don't do reviews. I just say if I enjoyed something. Because I don't think I have a particularly authoritative opinion (except about what I like, and don't, and why that might be).
But I should get back to the thing, and listening to Elvis Costello (at the moment; the random play is still on-going (and as to that, can random play ever really stop?)), but should update what I am reading first...
So, muffins...There is nothing whatsoever that can go wrong with my white chocolate, berry and banana muffin recipe (well, I say it's mine, but it's actually Green & Black's recipe). I love making these muffins. They are really, really easy to make, quick and they taste superb.
BUT...
I have made too many. And I have a husband with food poisoning who won't eat any before we go on holiday (or at least he shouldn't). I think 18 to be far too many, and, although they last, I think not for a week. Oh well. People will have to eat them. I've eaten one already, and they are very nice indeed.
So, what else? I have to go and do the packing soon; two more sleeps before we leave. I can't, um remember what I was typing because I had to get the remainder of the muffins out of the oven... Yeah, I know... I can't actually remember the last time I flew anywhere. It
might have been 2003 perhaps, although I'm fairly sure we
might have flown out to France in the meantime. It'll all be new and different! But we now have so many recommendations of what to do in New York, it's bit scary; it's fine to ask everyone for one place they might recommend, but if you ask more people than the number of days you're going, it's a risk that some of them might actually agree on things!
And work... work is fine. I have more to do now, which is superb. I cannot bear being bored and surfing the internet all day whilst other people work. That just feels skivy after a while, and as though I should just be at home surfing the internet. But great; more work. Hurrah! Although I have some ambivalence towards my boss. I don't really like being queried in meetings with external people. I think it's a bit undermine-y really. But, to be honest, I am not caring so much at the moment.
I also had a friend recommend that I should apply for promotion today (with a specific job). But I've kind of gone off the idea at the moment. It all seems to be a bit much effort at the moment, and I think I'd just like to relax a bit, and chill a bit. But no doubt the perfect job will come along, and I'll change my mind tomorrow; I always reserve the right to do that.
I'm quite pleased actually that no-one's realised that I am back doing this (or at least I am assuming that they haven't). I've kind of missed writing anything more than emails and giving my view on things. But this is a bit more personal. In fact, I think it was only J and my mum who ever looked here, but it feels a bit more for me now. Which is good. So I can't claim it will be a riveting read, nor will it contain any massive relevations (after all, one has no idea
who might read it, and realise I was talking about them), but it helps me sort out stuff.
And now I should go and do the ironing before I get on to the packing. We're travelling pretty light, as I think there will be some spending going on in NY! Wheeeeeeeeeee!
Well it was workingUntil I ruined the tart and had to make a new one (very nice, but not portable at all, else I would have eaten the rest of it today at work).
But unfortunately work is not proving as much of a displacement activity, and I am back to the anxious.
I am hoping that this will not last. Off to New York next weekend, so there will be no time, and certainly no impulse to the anxious there. I expect I will still manage though...
So I sawA lolgraph with a made-up-stat (but probably not far from the truth, tbh) that there are a gazillion (not literally) blogs on line, of which very few are kept up to date at all, fewer are kept up to date, and a tiny minority are of any use at all.
This one is proud to be in the no use at all category. Which is broadly the category that I am feeling in at the moment, so the synchronicity has it.
I've spent today cleaning out kitchen cupboards, rearranging them so that none of the many people in the house can find anything and cooking. So far, I am pesto, pasta and half a lemon and chocolate tart down. I also have the ingredients for muffins and meatballs (although those would not go together at all) as well as spinach and feta parcels. Those will happen tomorrow, I feel.
I am cooking as displacement activity at the moment. I have spent too much time thinking over the last few weeks, and I have more thinking I could unprofitably do. So cooking takes more of my brainpower, and means I can't think so much other than what comes next. It's working for me. My brain wants a rest, so that I can go back to mindlessly reading something.
Erk, someone is coming. Will post.
Another day, another postWhich is pretty good going all told.
So I have yet another new job since I was last posting regularly here, and in this one, although there are a few people who come in early, I generally have about half an hour before the tyranny of open plan means I actually have to do some work. I try and avoid it until then, to let my brain gently wake up, but sometimes there's something I have to respond to (it's usually an asinine question, to be fair). Not so today, and I've managed to scrape together nearly 40 minutes.
Having said that, I really am not busy. This is bad for me. I would like to have more work, but there is none at the moment. I've even resorted to doing work for someone else, although I am suspecting that my boss would not approve if I told her. So I am secretly working for someone else. I feel like a spy!
Oh my word!I can't remember how to do this any more. It's been longer than I care to recall. But I am resuscitating this blog and devoting it to my forthcoming New York trip. In this day and age there really is little point in keeping a paper diary, which might be lost and everything, rather than this. And we are taking the netbook as well.
Still, it will be odd, despite those, to be out of other forms of contact with anyone. But I am back here. Which is good, or not, depending on your view. Perhaps I might manage to post more regularly.
Or more likely there will be another gap of a few years. But at least this remains here, and provides some sanctuary to return to!
