Many times have I tried to make this blog exciting/interesting but without the help of Stephen Hawkings/Bill Gates it is nigh on impossible/improbable.
I have two sound tracks which have been made possible by my betrothed; Tattontastic Uplifting and Tattontastic All time Classics. Anyway to cut a long story short, didn't Kylie look attractive tonight?
If I was IT literate I would have a thousand, nay a trillion photos of the most important things to me on here. Hampton Palace Garden Show from last weekend. Not to mention the soundtracks I am on about. And the work of art that one could refer to as my bedroom mirror.
Here's Tattontastic All time Classics to those of you not invited to the wedding:
Honey Pie 9 of 13 2 of 2 2:41 The Beatles The Beatles (White Album) [Disc 2] Rock 6 16/07/2006 23:23
I Was Made To Love Her 10 of 19 1 of 2 2:37 Stevie Wonder The Definitive Collection [Disc 1] R&B 6 16/07/2006 23:25
(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone 7 of 29 1 of 1 2:20 The Monkees The Definitive Monkees Pop 5 18/06/2006 14:06
Soul Stripper 4 of 5 1 of 1 6:25 AC/DC '74 Jailbreak Rock 7 18/06/2006 14:13
Everything's Not Lost 10 of 10 1 of 1 7:15 Coldplay Parachutes Alternative & Punk 3 18/06/2006 14:20
It's A Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock 'N' Roll) 1 of 9 1 of 1 5:15 AC/DC High Voltage Rock 3 18/06/2006 14:26
Rock 'n' Roll Singer 2 of 9 1 of 1 5:03 AC/DC High Voltage Rock 5 18/06/2006 14:31
Not a woman amongst them. But were they writing about women? I dost think.
Here's Tattontastic Uplifting to those of you invited to the wedding and still in the real world:
Put Your Records On 3 of 11 1 of 1 3:35 Corinne Bailey Rae Corinne Bailey Rae R&B 60 16/07/2006 12:31
Love Me Do 8 of 14 1 of 1 2:22 The Beatles Please Please Me Rock 16 16/07/2006 12:34
Dirty Woman 8 of 8 1 of 1 7:09 Black Sabbath Technical Ecstasy Metal 14 16/07/2006 12:41
Dancing Shoes 4 of 13 1 of 1 2:21 Arctic Monkeys Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not Alternative & Punk 152 16/07/2006 12:43
I'm A Believer 5 of 29 1 of 1 2:45 The Monkees The Definitive Monkees Pop 14 16/07/2006 12:46
As 8 of 19 1 of 2 3:29 Stevie Wonder The Definitive Collection [Disc 1] R&B 12 16/07/2006 12:49
Billie Jean 6 of 21 1 of 1 4:53 Michael Jackson Thriller Pop 17 16/07/2006 12:54
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Friday, July 14, 2006
Ignorance is Bliss
Unfortunately the stark figures were presented to me yesterday, which 24/7 meditation can't do nowt about. There is, as we all know, no cure for cancer. On the other hand, Breast Cancer is the best one you can get. In ten years time I have an 80% chance of still being alive. Which is quite good. In fact very good. If I got exam results like that I'd be pretty damn pleased. But this statistic increases to 90% if I take all the poisons which are currently on offer - chemo, hormonal, and radio. I'm effectively poisoning myself for 8 months to give myself a 10% increased possibility of being alive in 10 years time. My chances of dying from something else in the next ten years are not quite 1%.
The problem with not doing anything now (which bearing in mind I haven't yet been made redundant and so am currently enjoying six months paid sick leave) is that microscopic bits of the tumour could have gone to my lung, liver, blood, bones or (possibly worst) brain, which is virtually impossible to detect until that's killing you anyway.
Thinking 'Knowledge is Power' yesterday morning I 'tooled myself up' by reading what could be quite frankly out of date material. One of the stories was a woman (older than me of course) who had a very similar tale to mine - 20mm lump but aggressive grade, who had a lumpectomy like me. Anyway a few years down the line (after she had a horrendous time with chemo) she died anyway after it went to her brain.
But could the chemo have prolonged her life by a year? Who knows? Was it her silly husband's fault who went off with another man which can't have helped?
The problem with not doing anything now (which bearing in mind I haven't yet been made redundant and so am currently enjoying six months paid sick leave) is that microscopic bits of the tumour could have gone to my lung, liver, blood, bones or (possibly worst) brain, which is virtually impossible to detect until that's killing you anyway.
Thinking 'Knowledge is Power' yesterday morning I 'tooled myself up' by reading what could be quite frankly out of date material. One of the stories was a woman (older than me of course) who had a very similar tale to mine - 20mm lump but aggressive grade, who had a lumpectomy like me. Anyway a few years down the line (after she had a horrendous time with chemo) she died anyway after it went to her brain.
But could the chemo have prolonged her life by a year? Who knows? Was it her silly husband's fault who went off with another man which can't have helped?
Sunday, July 09, 2006
How long does it take to write a poem?
The fact is Shakespeare was a Time Lord, perhaps even Einstein, who went back in time from about 2132 to whenever he was born and wrote his poems and stuff then. There's no way round it.
All the poetry experts I know - Blaglady, Mum, Dad, E, Roy Fisher and M all say they take a lot of 'work'. You write it, then get ashamed of the content, then rewrite it.
AS you can see from the evidence below, the only way you can write a good poem is to spend a lot of time on it. Not 10 seconds. I rest my case.
Here's another one:
There was a young lady called Tatton
Who wasn't a very big fat 'un
They said stop writing poems
She said I'm flow'in
And then she went along almost totally forgotten
That took two minutes
All the poetry experts I know - Blaglady, Mum, Dad, E, Roy Fisher and M all say they take a lot of 'work'. You write it, then get ashamed of the content, then rewrite it.
AS you can see from the evidence below, the only way you can write a good poem is to spend a lot of time on it. Not 10 seconds. I rest my case.
Here's another one:
There was a young lady called Tatton
Who wasn't a very big fat 'un
They said stop writing poems
She said I'm flow'in
And then she went along almost totally forgotten
That took two minutes
Blagging some poetry lessons
Poirot has a very nice voice
But not really my first ever choice
When the World Cup is on
We like to have fun
And not let the Italians or Belgians win the toss
But not really my first ever choice
When the World Cup is on
We like to have fun
And not let the Italians or Belgians win the toss
Friday, July 07, 2006
9pm - Relatively Good News
The malignant lump was 18mm with a 2mm margin and basically it hasn't spread - not spread to the lymph nodes or anywhere else from what I can gather. So to all intents and purposes we've got rid of it. However, it was more aggressive than they thought - Grade 3 rather than Grade 2 so they may try and persuade me to have Chemo and go on Tamoxifen. That will be to get rid of any microscopic bits possibly still left in my blood, bones, kidneys, lungs etc.
We don't have to make any decisions until we've seen Dr S (another female consultant - this time oncologist) which will be in a couple of weeks. Because of my youth it is likely that they'll try and persuade me to go for the whole caboodol [need help with spelling on that one]. We've tried telling them that fertility/womanhood is a big issue (not only does Chemo make you infertile and lose your hair but Tamoxifen makes you put on weight and get hair where you don't want it) but they're concerned about recurrence and other such horrible issues.
Anyway we went and had a celebratory drink of some rather fine Belgian beer at the lovely pub where my betrothed has decided he wants to hold his 30th birthday in a couple of months.
I had a nice chat with one of my GPs, Dr H, trying to get yet another sick note out of them. She said what Hewitt was doing was (her words) a 'f***ing disaster'. She gave me one for a month which is much better, than the ten days odd which I have been getting. I was going to give them a speech about suffragettes and Tolpuddle martyrs but didn't have to.
It turns out that 3 of my friends are doing the 'Race for Life' this weekend (G, P and J)- all I think with my name on their backs. Excellent - I'll try and get photos up on the blog.
We don't have to make any decisions until we've seen Dr S (another female consultant - this time oncologist) which will be in a couple of weeks. Because of my youth it is likely that they'll try and persuade me to go for the whole caboodol [need help with spelling on that one]. We've tried telling them that fertility/womanhood is a big issue (not only does Chemo make you infertile and lose your hair but Tamoxifen makes you put on weight and get hair where you don't want it) but they're concerned about recurrence and other such horrible issues.
Anyway we went and had a celebratory drink of some rather fine Belgian beer at the lovely pub where my betrothed has decided he wants to hold his 30th birthday in a couple of months.
I had a nice chat with one of my GPs, Dr H, trying to get yet another sick note out of them. She said what Hewitt was doing was (her words) a 'f***ing disaster'. She gave me one for a month which is much better, than the ten days odd which I have been getting. I was going to give them a speech about suffragettes and Tolpuddle martyrs but didn't have to.
It turns out that 3 of my friends are doing the 'Race for Life' this weekend (G, P and J)- all I think with my name on their backs. Excellent - I'll try and get photos up on the blog.
11.33am: Corridor, Homerton Hospital
Sitting in Homerton Hospital, waiting for Miss C my consultant surgeon to see me again. My appointment was 40 minutes ago. But there are still 3 people in front of me.
Just seen Barbara Roche - the ex- home office Minister. What the hell is she doing here? Presumably she doesn't represent anyone in Hackney. It must be a friend or relative. She's very smartly dressed and doesn't look like she's got cancer. Anyway she's trying to push in.
Typical. For a year now I've been trying to tell the right wing of the Labour Party what a mess Blair and Hewitt are making of the NHS.
Then I get breast cancer and one of their clan tries to push in front of me in the queue.
I'm also making a list of things to complain about with regards to the Hommer (as me and Phil like to call it). It is a very good hospital, but if you spend long enough in here then you can do this.
They've got this lovely outpatients waiting area - natural light, good ventilation, spacious and Rennie-Macintosh-esque artwork all around so you don't feel like you're contracting MRSA every five seconds. You register there. But then, 2 seconds later they call you into an unventilated, artificially lit, 200 degree temperature corridor. Where the only seats are opposite the toilets. There they keep you waiting for 2 hours. There is no need because the nice bit is just round the corner.
Oppressive is an understatement.
Me and Phil had a row about it. He didn't want to move away from the toilet seats when some others, still on the corridor but further down away from the toilets came free. I moved - alone. Ha, I thought. I am independent. About a minute passed and he came to sit next to me. I gave him a rewarding kiss.
Now directly opposite me, rather than watch people grapple with the locking system of the hospital toilet door and hear various suspicious splashing sounds there are 'Poems for the Waiting Room'. BUt - on an A4 piece of paper, 3 yards away too small for me to read.
Yes, I could stand up and go and read them. In fact, I've just strained my neck. What would Madeline, our Alexander Technique tutor think of that I wonder?
Just seen Barbara Roche - the ex- home office Minister. What the hell is she doing here? Presumably she doesn't represent anyone in Hackney. It must be a friend or relative. She's very smartly dressed and doesn't look like she's got cancer. Anyway she's trying to push in.
Typical. For a year now I've been trying to tell the right wing of the Labour Party what a mess Blair and Hewitt are making of the NHS.
Then I get breast cancer and one of their clan tries to push in front of me in the queue.
I'm also making a list of things to complain about with regards to the Hommer (as me and Phil like to call it). It is a very good hospital, but if you spend long enough in here then you can do this.
They've got this lovely outpatients waiting area - natural light, good ventilation, spacious and Rennie-Macintosh-esque artwork all around so you don't feel like you're contracting MRSA every five seconds. You register there. But then, 2 seconds later they call you into an unventilated, artificially lit, 200 degree temperature corridor. Where the only seats are opposite the toilets. There they keep you waiting for 2 hours. There is no need because the nice bit is just round the corner.
Oppressive is an understatement.
Me and Phil had a row about it. He didn't want to move away from the toilet seats when some others, still on the corridor but further down away from the toilets came free. I moved - alone. Ha, I thought. I am independent. About a minute passed and he came to sit next to me. I gave him a rewarding kiss.
Now directly opposite me, rather than watch people grapple with the locking system of the hospital toilet door and hear various suspicious splashing sounds there are 'Poems for the Waiting Room'. BUt - on an A4 piece of paper, 3 yards away too small for me to read.
Yes, I could stand up and go and read them. In fact, I've just strained my neck. What would Madeline, our Alexander Technique tutor think of that I wonder?
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Put the champagne on ice - Profile views have hit 200
But they were that yesterday so I'm getting bored with counting them. They seem to be more reliable that the number of hits to the blog, which seem to go up by 10 every day; me going back to the thing.
Richard Bacon on Capital Radio Drive Time is a comedy genius. I'm sure he must know he does it, but he is so Alan Partridge that it's utter hilarity. He just asked people to text in the swearword he was thinking of, saying it was a long one.
I tried to ring Capital to make a dedication to Paula at work who's doing the 'Race for Life' for Breast Cancer on Sunday and she's going to wear my name which I'm chuffed about.
Lost broadband again so may as well go back to carrier pigeon. I think I've learnt how to do photos but haven't got the computer capacity.
One thing I did manage to do earlier when I had broadband was to do a 'wish list' on Amazon. It's a bit like retail therapy, but without spending any. You can pretend you're getting the entire back catalogue of Blackadder, but instead play with the kittens when it doesn't turn up - but at least you've got quite a reliable list of what you do want. I tried looking for 'Embroidered Birds' for the wedding dress. The only thing Amazon could come up with, which I thought was a bit rubbish quite frankly was a woman's book - but she only had birds sitting in it. Sitting? I mean come on - what about birds FLYING? I've been thinking all day that perhaps that's what I should do - go and do a degree in Art.
Anyway, tomorrow is the appointment where we find out what further treatment I need to have. Fingers crossed, touch wood etc etc.
Actually managed to read most of the Observer from Sunday today which was quite good. It's not as bad as I thought it was. They had a whole pull out on Africa, which actually had some input from Africans rather than normal claptrap from Westerners.
Also made some delicious celery soup and roasted veg stock. Got more fruit than Pete Beale. All delivered from the lovley Ocado people. Yes, you may have to remortgage to get a weekly shop. But they deliver it to your kitchen. And you don't have to further inflate Dame Shirley Porter's coffers.
Richard Bacon on Capital Radio Drive Time is a comedy genius. I'm sure he must know he does it, but he is so Alan Partridge that it's utter hilarity. He just asked people to text in the swearword he was thinking of, saying it was a long one.
I tried to ring Capital to make a dedication to Paula at work who's doing the 'Race for Life' for Breast Cancer on Sunday and she's going to wear my name which I'm chuffed about.
Lost broadband again so may as well go back to carrier pigeon. I think I've learnt how to do photos but haven't got the computer capacity.
One thing I did manage to do earlier when I had broadband was to do a 'wish list' on Amazon. It's a bit like retail therapy, but without spending any. You can pretend you're getting the entire back catalogue of Blackadder, but instead play with the kittens when it doesn't turn up - but at least you've got quite a reliable list of what you do want. I tried looking for 'Embroidered Birds' for the wedding dress. The only thing Amazon could come up with, which I thought was a bit rubbish quite frankly was a woman's book - but she only had birds sitting in it. Sitting? I mean come on - what about birds FLYING? I've been thinking all day that perhaps that's what I should do - go and do a degree in Art.
Anyway, tomorrow is the appointment where we find out what further treatment I need to have. Fingers crossed, touch wood etc etc.
Actually managed to read most of the Observer from Sunday today which was quite good. It's not as bad as I thought it was. They had a whole pull out on Africa, which actually had some input from Africans rather than normal claptrap from Westerners.
Also made some delicious celery soup and roasted veg stock. Got more fruit than Pete Beale. All delivered from the lovley Ocado people. Yes, you may have to remortgage to get a weekly shop. But they deliver it to your kitchen. And you don't have to further inflate Dame Shirley Porter's coffers.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
How to ruin your finances in one afternoon
The problem with not practising what you preach is that you end up looking like an idiot.
My first jaunt out alone, further than 200 yards, in two weeks had to have its rewards after the hell that precipitated its outcome (a bus journey of 15 minutes to Islington). So I have spent basically a week's wages in half an hour, without getting the main thing I wanted as I was so tired after getting the things I hadn't gone out for.
I have bought 6 tickets to Love Box Weekender in Victoria Park on 23rd July (cost £227)
Then I bought Groove Armada's Greatest Hits - £16
Tracey Emin's film - £25
Dancing in the Rain - £7
Sideways - £7
A present for Phil - £6
Two dresses which I can actually wear (at the moment too sore to put stuff over head) - £36
Dr Hessayon's Rose Expert - £7
I didn't get the designer swallows (for wedding shoe inspiration) from Aria, a designer shop in Islington.
What I normally do when I spend too much money is take it back. But I'm not going to do that this time. I'm going to enjoy everything.
The reason for the high expenditure on the Groove Armada stuff is that I'm thinking about what we want for our first song - for the band. I'm hoping to corrupt their (Haggis Horns) soulful minds into a bit more heavy duty infiltration.
You see Tom, the lead guy of Groove Armada won Young Musician of the Year (playing the trombone) and so did Malcolm (Trombone player in Haggis Horns) and so did Gareth (Hopefully doing flute at the wedding). So you see - gotta chill, take it easy, superstyle, keep me going strong, feel good, little by little.
See you baby
My first jaunt out alone, further than 200 yards, in two weeks had to have its rewards after the hell that precipitated its outcome (a bus journey of 15 minutes to Islington). So I have spent basically a week's wages in half an hour, without getting the main thing I wanted as I was so tired after getting the things I hadn't gone out for.
I have bought 6 tickets to Love Box Weekender in Victoria Park on 23rd July (cost £227)
Then I bought Groove Armada's Greatest Hits - £16
Tracey Emin's film - £25
Dancing in the Rain - £7
Sideways - £7
A present for Phil - £6
Two dresses which I can actually wear (at the moment too sore to put stuff over head) - £36
Dr Hessayon's Rose Expert - £7
I didn't get the designer swallows (for wedding shoe inspiration) from Aria, a designer shop in Islington.
What I normally do when I spend too much money is take it back. But I'm not going to do that this time. I'm going to enjoy everything.
The reason for the high expenditure on the Groove Armada stuff is that I'm thinking about what we want for our first song - for the band. I'm hoping to corrupt their (Haggis Horns) soulful minds into a bit more heavy duty infiltration.
You see Tom, the lead guy of Groove Armada won Young Musician of the Year (playing the trombone) and so did Malcolm (Trombone player in Haggis Horns) and so did Gareth (Hopefully doing flute at the wedding). So you see - gotta chill, take it easy, superstyle, keep me going strong, feel good, little by little.
See you baby
Financial Management
I know when I first starting doing this blog there were going to be tutorials about how to manage your finances
1) Join the local library
2) Borrow an Alvin Hall book and Read it. Preferably on a Friday or Saturday night.
3) Start monitoring your daily expenditure - eg get a diary and write in in exactly how much you've spent on a day.
4) Start analysing your expenditure. EG you spend 50% on books. 50% on food (this is an example from me, so books is an area you know you can cut down)
5) Stop spending so much on your 'weak areas'.
6) Increase your income; in my case become a Union steward and make sure the idiots in charge sufficiently financially renumerate you for the hell that is known as Work. In P's case do a load of locums.
7) Have financial meetings with yourself (and when you get a partner them); And this is VERY important: ON A FRIDAY NIGHT for an hour. If you do it on a Friday (the financial meeting) then this discourages you from spending any money at the weekend
8) Transfer all your debts to 0% credit cards
9) Pay off your debts with all the money you're saving from not spending on books
10) Go on a walk and meditate.
1) Join the local library
2) Borrow an Alvin Hall book and Read it. Preferably on a Friday or Saturday night.
3) Start monitoring your daily expenditure - eg get a diary and write in in exactly how much you've spent on a day.
4) Start analysing your expenditure. EG you spend 50% on books. 50% on food (this is an example from me, so books is an area you know you can cut down)
5) Stop spending so much on your 'weak areas'.
6) Increase your income; in my case become a Union steward and make sure the idiots in charge sufficiently financially renumerate you for the hell that is known as Work. In P's case do a load of locums.
7) Have financial meetings with yourself (and when you get a partner them); And this is VERY important: ON A FRIDAY NIGHT for an hour. If you do it on a Friday (the financial meeting) then this discourages you from spending any money at the weekend
8) Transfer all your debts to 0% credit cards
9) Pay off your debts with all the money you're saving from not spending on books
10) Go on a walk and meditate.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Who's independent?
It's been raining and I nearly got a photo of some lightning but, being slightly slower than the speed of light, just missed it. Instead got a photo of Marmite washing herself as she got wet in the rain. Anyway, because of my useless IT skills combined with Fabrice (our nice French neighbour who we 'borrow' broadband from) switching his broadband off or whatever he does when it switches off, the IT capacity of this computer is now equivalent to my chances of becoming the next Jordan. So yet again I cannot post the photo on the blog or put the correct damn time up.
But really enjoying watching films. I persuaded Phil to record 'The Low Down' which is my favourite film - the only film I've seen more than 3 times. It's set in Dalston, (where I used to live) and it's about a guy in his twenties who works in an Animation production company (which I used to do)generally having a good time mooching around doing not much at all (which I still do). It's set in present time (the late nineties, it's about 7 years old). I love it. It celebrates art - really enjoying every minutae of detail and it's like 'Lost in Translation', in that it's reflective but I think it's about a million times better as it's not racist. There's really poignant bits as it's before September 11th (9/11) as the guy meets a girl who says 'When I see plane go by above I always think of holidays' and he says 'I always think of it crashing'. The very last shot is of a plane going over - it probably was one of the last films I saw before September 11th. My only complaint is - why did the main character have to be a guy? Also they could have had some positive portrayals of black characters - the only black people are the druggies.
Phil got bored with it though. He prefers 'Herbie goes on Tour' etc; I'm trying to educate him when it comes to films. 'It's Art darling' is what I say.
Then watched Thelma and Louise which GG had bought me as a present. And I remembered why it's not my favourite film. One word. Violence. I had to fast forward the violent bits. Yes, Brad Pitt is fit, but let's face it who wasn't in 1992? Feminism isn't about nicking all the nasty bits from men, it's about persuading them to engage in the lovelier aspects of femininity too - love, compassion, communication and sensitivity. So, I am glad I've got the film, but it's not my favourite.
Then, because darling was working I actually watched a TV film. 'Ghosts of Mississipi' on BBC 1. And I thought it was great. I'm not normally a fan of court room dramas - America is so dependent on her lawyers, she's forgotten community and humanity. But Alex Baldwin was this nice lawyer (I know, hard to believe) fighting for a black man shot dead by a racist thug in the 60s. He wins. I would say that the 'n' word is more of a swear word here than the 'c' word, but the way they were showing it over there, it's like people are allowed to say it on TV. Also, even the 'liberal' white middle class people don't have black friends. There is no integration. It just makes me thank God I don't live over there.
But really enjoying watching films. I persuaded Phil to record 'The Low Down' which is my favourite film - the only film I've seen more than 3 times. It's set in Dalston, (where I used to live) and it's about a guy in his twenties who works in an Animation production company (which I used to do)generally having a good time mooching around doing not much at all (which I still do). It's set in present time (the late nineties, it's about 7 years old). I love it. It celebrates art - really enjoying every minutae of detail and it's like 'Lost in Translation', in that it's reflective but I think it's about a million times better as it's not racist. There's really poignant bits as it's before September 11th (9/11) as the guy meets a girl who says 'When I see plane go by above I always think of holidays' and he says 'I always think of it crashing'. The very last shot is of a plane going over - it probably was one of the last films I saw before September 11th. My only complaint is - why did the main character have to be a guy? Also they could have had some positive portrayals of black characters - the only black people are the druggies.
Phil got bored with it though. He prefers 'Herbie goes on Tour' etc; I'm trying to educate him when it comes to films. 'It's Art darling' is what I say.
Then watched Thelma and Louise which GG had bought me as a present. And I remembered why it's not my favourite film. One word. Violence. I had to fast forward the violent bits. Yes, Brad Pitt is fit, but let's face it who wasn't in 1992? Feminism isn't about nicking all the nasty bits from men, it's about persuading them to engage in the lovelier aspects of femininity too - love, compassion, communication and sensitivity. So, I am glad I've got the film, but it's not my favourite.
Then, because darling was working I actually watched a TV film. 'Ghosts of Mississipi' on BBC 1. And I thought it was great. I'm not normally a fan of court room dramas - America is so dependent on her lawyers, she's forgotten community and humanity. But Alex Baldwin was this nice lawyer (I know, hard to believe) fighting for a black man shot dead by a racist thug in the 60s. He wins. I would say that the 'n' word is more of a swear word here than the 'c' word, but the way they were showing it over there, it's like people are allowed to say it on TV. Also, even the 'liberal' white middle class people don't have black friends. There is no integration. It just makes me thank God I don't live over there.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Childish
This is very childish
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia_talk:NPOV_tutorial
But please. Come on. If Wayne Rooney can essentially slap someone else in the quarter final of the World Cup and get away with it, then I can tell Wikipedia to F OFF.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia_talk:NPOV_tutorial
But please. Come on. If Wayne Rooney can essentially slap someone else in the quarter final of the World Cup and get away with it, then I can tell Wikipedia to F OFF.
5 or 6 entries on one 'day'
For those of you who can actually count - it looks like being at the moment which counts as the same day as yesterday at the moment - 5 full entries on one day. That's a Guinness world record for the amount of blog entries by myself on one 'day' (if it's allowed) over a twenty four hour period. If you can work out my address (clue - I'm on the electoral roll) and send me a Get Well Soon Card, I'll send you a signed postcard of Stoke Newington cf 2005.
Norris McWhirter
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norris_McWhirter
Still don't know how to work the internet. But Norris McWhirter was a waste of space. But on a more serious note, I think I have broken my own world record for the amount ogf entries on my site on one 'day'.
Love to all
Still don't know how to work the internet. But Norris McWhirter was a waste of space. But on a more serious note, I think I have broken my own world record for the amount ogf entries on my site on one 'day'.
Love to all
I don't care what time it is
Like another heroine of mine [Joella] suddenly it dawns on me I don't care what time it is. Phil has left his blackberry here, the only person who could possibly calculate the correct (and I MEAN correct) time is some astrophysicist/TimeLord/Goddess/parent and would it matter anyway?
And then I start thinking about the other Y axisses (or is it Axes?). Truth, Love, Faith, Hope. How on earth would they measure them? And what about enjoyment? Light of course should be on the Y axis, but then without Time what the hell does it matter? Then you have matter itself. And then the Blackberry rings; it is Kingston. Phil has left his bleep in theatre. I suggest they try the Doctors' Mess.
And then I start thinking about the other Y axisses (or is it Axes?). Truth, Love, Faith, Hope. How on earth would they measure them? And what about enjoyment? Light of course should be on the Y axis, but then without Time what the hell does it matter? Then you have matter itself. And then the Blackberry rings; it is Kingston. Phil has left his bleep in theatre. I suggest they try the Doctors' Mess.
Blog Time - PLease God help me
I am writing this at 1.47am yet the stupid blog says whatever it says. The only reason I did the last blog was that it would be the second one for July and according to this American bloody rubbish it is the same day. Somebody please help.
Parental Censorship : PC
Both parents, despite missing my campaign of about 12 months ago to get comments on my blog, are now the most frequent commentators. Better than both John Motson or Mark Lawrenson.
But, a bit like fascism, they work in mysterious ways. Rather than post a comment as say 'Anna's Mum' or 'Anna's Dad' they use supposedly obscure pseudonyms, or even, (so very 1980s) ring me up in person and say that 'using the word scum is using the same language as the BNP'. And I think to myself 'Are they advocates of freedom of speech or do they mean to suppress it?'. And a bit like George Orwell, I am caught, between the two (or three in my case) should I go with them - and delete a bit of history? Or go with my gut instinct and delete slightly less history at a later point?
I met a self-confessed fascist tonight. I was shocked, that in 2006 with gay rights etc in London this could happen, but yes it did. He said "If anyone laid a finger on my Sinead I would kill them, wouldn't you try and kill someone who tried to kill your partner?' I said 'No of course not, I'm a pacifist. Every human life has value and it's terrible that you think this way. It's wrong. I would never hurt a human being'. Simon, the true anarchist, with a shaved head and no job said 'Well yes, I would and if it was the state doing it I would disagree with you and say no the State cannot intervene'. And socialism appeals again. We don't let people get away with murder. That's what happened in the Spanish Civil War. The fascists won because the pacifists wouldn't side with the anarchists. But who's who? I was asking myself as I downed some more anaestically pleasing alcohol.
But, a bit like fascism, they work in mysterious ways. Rather than post a comment as say 'Anna's Mum' or 'Anna's Dad' they use supposedly obscure pseudonyms, or even, (so very 1980s) ring me up in person and say that 'using the word scum is using the same language as the BNP'. And I think to myself 'Are they advocates of freedom of speech or do they mean to suppress it?'. And a bit like George Orwell, I am caught, between the two (or three in my case) should I go with them - and delete a bit of history? Or go with my gut instinct and delete slightly less history at a later point?
I met a self-confessed fascist tonight. I was shocked, that in 2006 with gay rights etc in London this could happen, but yes it did. He said "If anyone laid a finger on my Sinead I would kill them, wouldn't you try and kill someone who tried to kill your partner?' I said 'No of course not, I'm a pacifist. Every human life has value and it's terrible that you think this way. It's wrong. I would never hurt a human being'. Simon, the true anarchist, with a shaved head and no job said 'Well yes, I would and if it was the state doing it I would disagree with you and say no the State cannot intervene'. And socialism appeals again. We don't let people get away with murder. That's what happened in the Spanish Civil War. The fascists won because the pacifists wouldn't side with the anarchists. But who's who? I was asking myself as I downed some more anaestically pleasing alcohol.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Engagement Bliss
Spoke to one of the last people - my beautiful, face of an angel friend Allison from Middlesborough - about the bad news last night. She was shocked and upset, but I said that we were planning to come up and visit in between my radiotherapy sessions in the summer, some time in August, when also visiting Jenny and Derek, surrogate parents in York.
But I do feel absolutely marvellous (apart from some pain). Had the best evening ever with Phil on Tuesday, if married life is even 20% as good as that I'll be happy. Utterly spoilt. Never had so much chocolate in the house ever. It's all Green and Black too apart from some incredibly expensive French stuff from our gay French neighbour, Fabrice. Had a full house of about five guests on Wednesday night when my brother Joe came down from Leeds. Phil was working and GG from work came over. My best mate Paolo from Italy had also popped round and helped with some odd jobs like putting the washing out. We all sat outside drinking some rather excellent red wine. Malcolm, a musician mate of Joe's also turned up and we were playing Neil Young with Paolo saying 'I used to listen to this twenty years ago and not understand the words', and other such intellectual, fascinating nuggets. He got talking to GG which was quite good as both can talk for England/Italy so keeping them both going together was quite a neat trick. One of my ambitions is to write a character profile of Paolo. He is so funny that he needs to be written about he is so uniquely boring, predictable yet hilarious, Italian, beautiful-life-esque as to be unbelieveable and some of the scrapes we've got up to need documenting. You can tell Malcolm and Joe are also getting slightly more successful as they spent the entire evening shouting on their mobile phones trying to get bass players to different gigs. Malcolm was saying that he was fed up of World tours as they are 'boring'. Both Joe and Malcolm are currently riding on the back of the successful Corrine Bailey Rae, claiming that 'pop' is dead simultaneously.
The ideal thing about writing a character assasination of Paolo is 1) He is IT illiterate 2) He knows I don't mean it 3) It won't ruin my career 4) It will be funny yet correct
GG promised not to talk about work or the NHS until I return to work and instead got me a lovely card, more chocolate, a Philip Pullman book (socialist) plus Thelma and Louise DVD. I asked her for funny photos of staffside/unison people to put in my Rainy Day box. That's the thing about socialists - they need their sense of humour injection from the anarchists.
Then on Thursday we went to Cambridge to visit the beautiful baby Zia, daughter of our best man Joel and his wife Zoe. She is only six weeks old and virtually (although possibly not quite) as pampered as I am at the moment. I gave Joel a hard time saying that the one thing people remember about a wedding is whether the best man's speech is funny or not. He said he wasn't a stand up comedian. I said he'd better start practising. Phil is more concerned about the stag do. Phil was very dismissive of the present I had got Zia - a folio society hard back edition of 'Anne of Green Gables' with an introduction by Margaret Atwood. But it went down a storm, as of course it was Mummy's favourite book (which she had disclosed whilst pregnant, admitting crying whilst watching the video). The other link which I hadn't realised is the Canadian link (LM Montgomery Canadian and Zoe spent some years there) so it was even better and something that can be kept for generations. We ended up spending the night in Cambridge - in the wonderful camper-van which is still code-word for Anna&Phil special time 'Camper-van time' as we had such an amazing holiday in J&Z's campervan a year ago.
But I do feel absolutely marvellous (apart from some pain). Had the best evening ever with Phil on Tuesday, if married life is even 20% as good as that I'll be happy. Utterly spoilt. Never had so much chocolate in the house ever. It's all Green and Black too apart from some incredibly expensive French stuff from our gay French neighbour, Fabrice. Had a full house of about five guests on Wednesday night when my brother Joe came down from Leeds. Phil was working and GG from work came over. My best mate Paolo from Italy had also popped round and helped with some odd jobs like putting the washing out. We all sat outside drinking some rather excellent red wine. Malcolm, a musician mate of Joe's also turned up and we were playing Neil Young with Paolo saying 'I used to listen to this twenty years ago and not understand the words', and other such intellectual, fascinating nuggets. He got talking to GG which was quite good as both can talk for England/Italy so keeping them both going together was quite a neat trick. One of my ambitions is to write a character profile of Paolo. He is so funny that he needs to be written about he is so uniquely boring, predictable yet hilarious, Italian, beautiful-life-esque as to be unbelieveable and some of the scrapes we've got up to need documenting. You can tell Malcolm and Joe are also getting slightly more successful as they spent the entire evening shouting on their mobile phones trying to get bass players to different gigs. Malcolm was saying that he was fed up of World tours as they are 'boring'. Both Joe and Malcolm are currently riding on the back of the successful Corrine Bailey Rae, claiming that 'pop' is dead simultaneously.
The ideal thing about writing a character assasination of Paolo is 1) He is IT illiterate 2) He knows I don't mean it 3) It won't ruin my career 4) It will be funny yet correct
GG promised not to talk about work or the NHS until I return to work and instead got me a lovely card, more chocolate, a Philip Pullman book (socialist) plus Thelma and Louise DVD. I asked her for funny photos of staffside/unison people to put in my Rainy Day box. That's the thing about socialists - they need their sense of humour injection from the anarchists.
Then on Thursday we went to Cambridge to visit the beautiful baby Zia, daughter of our best man Joel and his wife Zoe. She is only six weeks old and virtually (although possibly not quite) as pampered as I am at the moment. I gave Joel a hard time saying that the one thing people remember about a wedding is whether the best man's speech is funny or not. He said he wasn't a stand up comedian. I said he'd better start practising. Phil is more concerned about the stag do. Phil was very dismissive of the present I had got Zia - a folio society hard back edition of 'Anne of Green Gables' with an introduction by Margaret Atwood. But it went down a storm, as of course it was Mummy's favourite book (which she had disclosed whilst pregnant, admitting crying whilst watching the video). The other link which I hadn't realised is the Canadian link (LM Montgomery Canadian and Zoe spent some years there) so it was even better and something that can be kept for generations. We ended up spending the night in Cambridge - in the wonderful camper-van which is still code-word for Anna&Phil special time 'Camper-van time' as we had such an amazing holiday in J&Z's campervan a year ago.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Four days after breast cancer surgery
I'm still reading Alan Clark's diaries while Phil is mastering Level Five of Grand Theft Auto. Was in a bit more pain this morning and have necked a couple of mega drugs which are now reserved for real pain following my codeine overdose on Sunday.
Anyway the trick with Alan Clark is - first his dialogue is very good. Also he assasinates his characters and shows his own hypocrisies; whilst Employment Minsister in the depths of the highest unemployement figures in the early eigthies he challenges the unemployed saying there isn't enough demand in the economy then says he's lucky they don't know how much him and Nicholas Soames spend on a night's meal out. He desperately wants to work at the MOD which he eventually does. I desperately want to see Ken Livingstone as Prime Minister which I probably won't.
It's interesting comparing his diaries say, compared to WF Deedes memoirs (the Editor of the Telegraph). I read these when we went to Spain last year to stay in Auntie Shirley's flat. (Uncle Derrick is a Tory, well probably New Labour now, God knows, but he had Deedes memoirs). This Deedes guy was apparently happily married with three kids, AND HE NEVER MENTIONED THEM. It put me off him, and journalism. Alan Clark very fondly talks about his wife, which although I'm sure he was racist sexist scum, somehow makes him more endearing. There are a couple of nice photos of her in the book.
The problem with following Alan Clark's example of putting some decent dialogue on this blog, is that in my case there is very little going on.
It's things like Phil saying 'The reason you're so stiff is because you haven't done your exercises... Can I just finish this stage darling? ... [And when I do my exercises] 'Well done, That's so much better than yesterday'.
Clark's hatred of his job certainly puts me off rushing back to work in a hurry. The thing that Alan Clark will be best remembered for are his funny, entertaining and quite frankly historical diaries. He takes the piss out of people like Tom King. Like him I'd rather be remembered for something like that than sorting out car parking for health centres in Hackney, or in his case putting a report through the committee stage. But can my blog live up to his diaries? In my case I'm deliberately trying to be polite about people in case they sue me, or worse stop speaking to me. Also I don't know the people I hate like he does so can't comment about them properly (eg Patricia Hewitt).
The upper class is a funny old phenomenon, mutating to firmly establish itself as still in control. They're probably more popular now than when Clark was in office. (Take Prince Charles or David Cameron).
Now I'm about to marry Phil, AND I've attended the Fulham Breast Cancer Haven place I'm practically one of them already so I'd better shut up. Only joking, there is no doubt that I am middle class. You do have to be born into upper class, but then look at Kate Middleton...
Anyway the trick with Alan Clark is - first his dialogue is very good. Also he assasinates his characters and shows his own hypocrisies; whilst Employment Minsister in the depths of the highest unemployement figures in the early eigthies he challenges the unemployed saying there isn't enough demand in the economy then says he's lucky they don't know how much him and Nicholas Soames spend on a night's meal out. He desperately wants to work at the MOD which he eventually does. I desperately want to see Ken Livingstone as Prime Minister which I probably won't.
It's interesting comparing his diaries say, compared to WF Deedes memoirs (the Editor of the Telegraph). I read these when we went to Spain last year to stay in Auntie Shirley's flat. (Uncle Derrick is a Tory, well probably New Labour now, God knows, but he had Deedes memoirs). This Deedes guy was apparently happily married with three kids, AND HE NEVER MENTIONED THEM. It put me off him, and journalism. Alan Clark very fondly talks about his wife, which although I'm sure he was racist sexist scum, somehow makes him more endearing. There are a couple of nice photos of her in the book.
The problem with following Alan Clark's example of putting some decent dialogue on this blog, is that in my case there is very little going on.
It's things like Phil saying 'The reason you're so stiff is because you haven't done your exercises... Can I just finish this stage darling? ... [And when I do my exercises] 'Well done, That's so much better than yesterday'.
Clark's hatred of his job certainly puts me off rushing back to work in a hurry. The thing that Alan Clark will be best remembered for are his funny, entertaining and quite frankly historical diaries. He takes the piss out of people like Tom King. Like him I'd rather be remembered for something like that than sorting out car parking for health centres in Hackney, or in his case putting a report through the committee stage. But can my blog live up to his diaries? In my case I'm deliberately trying to be polite about people in case they sue me, or worse stop speaking to me. Also I don't know the people I hate like he does so can't comment about them properly (eg Patricia Hewitt).
The upper class is a funny old phenomenon, mutating to firmly establish itself as still in control. They're probably more popular now than when Clark was in office. (Take Prince Charles or David Cameron).
Now I'm about to marry Phil, AND I've attended the Fulham Breast Cancer Haven place I'm practically one of them already so I'd better shut up. Only joking, there is no doubt that I am middle class. You do have to be born into upper class, but then look at Kate Middleton...
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Day 23 of Breast Cancer
I'm back at home and it is absolutely marvellous! The sun is shining on my resplendant golden showers roses plus the chamomile. Mum is cooking a massive brunch for me and Dad who is due any second. I can just about type and am in minimal pain - despite having had an operation on Thursday!
I was the first on the list which was great as it meant no waiting and the team were fresh. I was up and about in no time at all and the breast is hardly different. They have done a neat cut around the nipple which will hardly show, so fingers crossed (and everything else) that the damn thing hasn't spread. We find out the results a week on Friday.
I tried reading Miss Marple in hospital, but found it too saccarhin, instead turned to 'How to Enjoy your operation' a humour book from 1963 which I quite enjoyed. Now I'm reading Alan Clark's diaries which is very good indeed. Can't put it down. Except I hate his racist sexist self. He reminds me of me though - hates his job and would prefer to be out in the countryside, or in my case the garden.
Phil was wonderful, although we both had a little cry when I had to go to have an Xray and I was fussing about my photos when he got back. He had just been saying how terrible it would be if I had Lung cancer. Of course that hasn't been ruled out yet. He went on a little walk and then we were ok. Mum was there too and I was so delighted with how well I felt than I rang everyone in my address book.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Breast Cancer – Week Three
A matter of hours before I go in for the op and I’m at the computer (but brilliantly for the first time this week!). Am doing all the right things – just got back from the Alexander Technique – a double session for us both to get us nice and relaxed.
Have created a ‘rainy day box’ the size of a small house, and deciding on reading material. Also – and this is terrible, it’s taken me to get breast cancer for work to decide they need a car park attendant! But I did smile when I saw him as I was delivering my sick note on Monday.
Had lovely cards from people and still getting excited about the wedding. Hollinsclough School has agreed for us to use their field for a marquee. Doing meditation like it’s going out of business, including a session at the London Buddhist Centre ‘ Let me be well, Let me be happy, Let me be free from suffering, Let me learn, grow and develop’; my new mantra.
Saw my lovely friend Anni and her three kids yesterday – Nina and the two twins Jamie and Alexander. They are all absolutely gorgeous. Tried on my wedding shoes yesterday. Going to have a bird theme – on the shoes anyway, I’m thinking two swallows and then a dove as a decoration for the dress. The EPP gang have got me some beautiful flowers. Phil is building some garden furniture.
And the Druids (plus friends) are dancing for me – at Stone Henge!
Have created a ‘rainy day box’ the size of a small house, and deciding on reading material. Also – and this is terrible, it’s taken me to get breast cancer for work to decide they need a car park attendant! But I did smile when I saw him as I was delivering my sick note on Monday.
Had lovely cards from people and still getting excited about the wedding. Hollinsclough School has agreed for us to use their field for a marquee. Doing meditation like it’s going out of business, including a session at the London Buddhist Centre ‘ Let me be well, Let me be happy, Let me be free from suffering, Let me learn, grow and develop’; my new mantra.
Saw my lovely friend Anni and her three kids yesterday – Nina and the two twins Jamie and Alexander. They are all absolutely gorgeous. Tried on my wedding shoes yesterday. Going to have a bird theme – on the shoes anyway, I’m thinking two swallows and then a dove as a decoration for the dress. The EPP gang have got me some beautiful flowers. Phil is building some garden furniture.
And the Druids (plus friends) are dancing for me – at Stone Henge!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
