katiefoolery: (Sleep now)
A few things occurred to me earlier this morning.

1. LiveJournal is blocked at work.
2. Dreamwidth is not.
3. Dreamwidth allows you to cross-post to LJ.

And thus, a use for my DW account was born! Assuming this works and isn't thwarted in some way by my devious work deviously deviating my devious plan of deviousness.

Other things that likewise occurred to me this morning (listed in random order of importance): IT'S FRIDAY; I don't like it when people just sit there and watch me; semi-colons (when used well) are beautiful things; my hair looks kinda cute; a crumpet with peanut butter truly is the breakfast of champions... or at least, people with good taste and a toaster.

A final thing that occurred to me recently is that I'd like my journal to be neater or more consistent or cohesive or better co-ordinated with its curtains or something. A quick glance over my most recent entries reveals that they've been about vlogging, LorF, vlogging, a bit more LorF and then some extra vlogging added in at no extra cost. Which, I'll grant you, is consistent, if nothing else.

But I'd like to expand it into other concepts such as, oh, I don't know, writing?

(Speaking of which: I've actually been engaging in said activity of stringing words together into sentences! Amazing, but true. At this rate, I'll have achieved at least ten percent of my GYWO target by the end of the year...)

I'm due to write an essay on breaking the rules of grammar for [community profile] getyourwordsout this month, which will inevitably spill over into this journal. So it's entirely possible my next few entries will actually be about this whole writing process.

And breaking the rules thereof.

Which will inevitably involve running with scissors at some point.

However. I'd like to know what my flist would like to see. Would you like a chance to discuss writing in my journal? Would you like me to write informative pieces about it? Would you like to read more rants wherein I am driven to such insanity by writing/writers block/characters misbehaving/things going spectacularly wrong/etc. that I end up typing my entry by bashing my head repeatedly against the keyboard?

And if you read writers' blogs on a regular basis, what are your favourite elements of them? What keeps you reading? (And are there any you'd recommend to me?)

Ah well, the bell has tolled: back to work for me.
katiefoolery: (fivedotnerds)
It's writing week!  Yes,you had no idea this was the case, did you?  It's all true, though.  It's writing week and we are discussing firsts.  All of your firsts, from your first first to your last first.  To date.

I must admit, I'm a huge fan of writing week.  It's not surprising, really.  After all, it means I get to ramble on about writing and I may have mentioned once or twice how much I like doing this.  The only problem with rambling on about writing is that I'm excessively capable at it.  This makes it very difficult to fit my thoughts into the space of four minutes, but I managed somehow.  And as a bonus (coming, as they do, at no extra cost), I even included sun-flare and video saved at the wrong resolution!  It's not my fault; it played in perfect widescreen on my computer.  How was I to know YouTube wouldn't approve?  The good news is that I have learnt how to appease said website and my next video will be absolutely perfect, resolution-wise.  As opposed to this week's squishedness and last week's tininess.

So I believe a small, anticipatory yay is in order: YAY.

But to return to the firsts.  This week, we fivedotnerds are discussing our writing firsts.  When did you write your first story?  What was your first publication?  And so on.  I decided to talk about some slightly different firsts in my video, as you will see for yourselves. :D

And as a bonus, LJ-only feature, I'll list another couple of firsts here.

The first character to take over a story without permission was Chaque.  She was meant to be a nothing character with a couple of backstory-advancing lines.  Then she "dropped a reluctant curtsey" and suddenly she had a personality, attitude... and an overwhelming desire to steal the story.  Which she did.  Quite successfully.  She's single-minded, slightly psychotic and has a tendency to burn things... and I love her.

Although, it's a little worrying to have her in my head sometimes.  You never know what may inexplicably go up in smoke when you're not looking.

The first time I ever won a prize in a writing competition was when I was in year eleven.  It was third prize and it was worth thirty dollars and I can't even tell you how excited I was when I opened the envelope with the certificate and prize inside.

The first character to wake me up at unwelcome times of the night with story ideas that MUST BE WRITTEN DOWN NOW was Jane.  That girl had serious issues with letting me sleep at times.  Lucky for her it's impossible to dislike her... even when you're crawling out of bed at 2am to type up notes so she'll shut up and LET ME SLEEP, dammit.

What are your writing firsts?  What are the most significant things that have happened to you as a writer?  Tell me all about it.  :)
katiefoolery: (Glum)
There appears to be balance in all things. For every kitten, there are no fewer than one hundred, hideous spiders, at least one of which will be lurking under your pillow. For every beautiful sunrise, there's a rainstorm just as you step off the bus.

Mine go a little like this...

We're paying a little less rent lately. Which is good... except that the reason behind it is that the landlord is trying to sell. So yes, a year after having to move because our previous landlord sold, we're now looking at having to find a new place for exactly the same reason. I'm beginning to feel a little cursed.

Our landlord has appeared to be reasonably easy-going and hasn't created any troubles for us, or delayed repairs (unlike previous landlords). Which is good... except he's an idiot. He's trying to sell the house with no backyard and no garage, since that space is going to be taken over by a new, double-storey townhouse, construction of which will start very soon. And when I say no backyard, I mean no backyard; the back of the house will be practically against the fence of the subdivided property. Plus, the new owners will be living next door to a construction site for the next few months. Who wouldn't want that?

The balance thing works the other way, though. For instance, I have no time for anything lately. Which is bad... except that it means I'm doing so much new stuff and learning new things and getting to know new people.

Or take the fact that I had to stuff around with a dodgy video camera and return it in exchange for a different. Which is bad (well, it's more irritating, really)... except I now have a video camera that works and that actually shoots in proper widescreen.

And then there's stuff that's just plain old straight-out good: the fact that I'll be on holidays in just over a week; the fact that I'm going to be spending a weekend with friends I haven't seen for ages in... just over a week, too; the fact that I'll be visiting the parents and consuming eggs of chocolate the week after.

So, take heart, my lovely flisters: for every piano that falls on your head, there'll be a compensating random singing montage as you walk down the street.
katiefoolery: (fivedotnerds)
Because I needed a new addiction. I needed something to distract me from writing. I needed another obsession.

Personally, I blame [livejournal.com profile] surferartchick. After all, she was the one who said, "Hey, Katie, come vlog with us! It'll be fun! You don't really need your soul, do you? No? That's handy."

I'm paraphrasing a little, but I'm pretty sure that's what she said.

Once upon a time, I thought YouTube was for AMVs and for watching subbed anime that you couldn't get anywhere else. Sometimes, on special occasions, it was for looking at old ads with friends and laughing at them. Laughing at the ads, that is, not my friends.

Although I do laugh at them... and they laugh at me in turn.

But no - YouTube is actually a place full of interesting, fun-type people who make videos and vlogs and are intoxicatingly entertaining at times. It's a bit like LJ, except you get to hear and see people instead of getting to know them through their written words. And I'm not saying I prefer one over the other, but the whole vlog thing is still a novelty to me. It's shiny and I love it.

And it's infecting me. Lately, when I'm contemplating ideas for future LJ posts, a little voice at the back of my mind will be gleefully pointing out what good vlogs these ideas would make. And I'm a sucker for it, because I love mixing media. So don't be surprised if some of my posts in the future are actually videos.

Hey, is it horribly obvious and unsubtle segue time? You know what, I believe it is. Here we go...

Speaking of videos, here's my fivedotnerds video for this week:

This one includes a bonus short (short short) film at the end, which involves me acting like unto an idiot, supported in my efforts by my cat, who was seriously trying to steal the entire show. You know you want to see me acting like an idiot. Everyone needs a good laugh every now and then. :D
katiefoolery: (My country)
It's raining.

It's hailing.

I have the central heating on.

And may I just remind everyone that, here in the antipodes, we are currently expecting Summer to be happening out there.  Well, late Spring.  But still.  Where is my sun?  Where is my heat?  Why did I buy all those cute dresses to wear to work if it's going to HAIL??

Ah, so many questions that cannot be answered.

Other questions that cannot really be answered: Where have I been since the third of August?  Well... it can be answered, but it would most likely be full of angst verging on emo, possibly descending into very, very dodgy poetry and ending with a bonus rant about the complete dearth of orange juice and crumpets in the house.  And that all adds up to something completely unsatisfying, so let's skip it and go straight to some random photos instead. )

And in other news, I would like to assure [livejournal.com profile] crazedturkey that her identical twin is alive and well and working somewhere at Forest Hill Chase.

Ah, there goes the hail again...
katiefoolery: (Renji is enthused...)
I was hit by a minor revelation the other day.  This left me somewhat concussed and possibly a little bruised... but mostly enlightened.  And the revelation goes a little like this:
I’m not shy; I’m lazy.

Well, I say “minor revelation”, but that’s probably understating it somewhat, especially when you consider I’ve thought I was shy my entire life.

On other hand, I’ve known about the laziness for quite a long time.  I just never thought to connect the two.  Probably because of the whole laziness thing...

I wish it weren't true, in many ways.  It’s incredibly easy to be lazy... and it’s equally easy to overcome it.  Shyness, not so much.  But now that I know it’s more laziness than anything, I feel beholden to do something about it.  Which really goes against the heavily-entrenched laziness grain.

And yet... I’m still doing it.  Why yesterday, I met up with the good [livejournal.com profile] bathmat and met two whole new people, the thought of which would have sent me running hastily in the opposite direction not so long ago.  And while I wasn’t as scintillating as I might have hoped, I didn’t make an utter idiot out of myself and even managed some conversation along the way.  So score one for me in my war against a sedentary life.

And tonight, I managed to spend much longer than I realised writing emails to three people - something I’ve been putting off for no good reason for ages.

After this, I even remembered to sign into msn... although due to the unexpected lateness, there doesn’t appear to be anyone around.  Of course this would be the case when I’m trying to be sociable...

I still feel a little lost, though, so I’m very much open to any and all advice on how to break out of one’s shell and stop being so damn shy and/or lazy.  Tricks?  Tips?  I’ll take them all, thanks.


Jun. 6th, 2008 11:19 pm
katiefoolery: (Girl writing in cap)
It's eleven o' clock on a Friday night, so what else would I be doing but posting on LJ?

This evening finds me at home alone and loving it.  I have the house to myself for the majority of this long weekend and I'm looking forward to it more than I can say.  I can be quite a solitary creature when I put my mind to it, although I'm afraid my Timothy-of-the-Heads doesn't quite understand that.  At any rate, he's off in Sydney while the Bindi is off in Bendigo and I'm here alone with the cats, playing my music a wee too loud.  I hope my neighbours are enjoying it.

It's a nice house to be alone in, too.  The old place was OK, but weirdly sterile at times.  And the house I grew up in used to creep me out if I happened to be there on my own at night.  Which I often was, since I used to house-sit for the parents when they went away.  That house made noises.  Strange noises.  All I have to deal with here is Nala, the Bindi's weird cat.  And I think I may have worked out what's wrong with it: she has multiple personality issues.  She either runs away from me in terror or comes up to me when I'm at the computer to rub against my legs - there's nothing in between.  And before, I bent over to pat her as I was walking to the kitchen, fully expecting her to run away... which she did...

...right into my legs, so she could rub against them.  It was like one part was screaming Run away! whilst another was telling her to run away directly to me.

It must be very confusing to live in that cat's brain.

If she even has one.

Much easier to live in Pickle's brain, which only has about four basic settings: sleep, run around the house like you're being chased by an army of avenging rodents (also known as the PSYCHOPANTS!! mode), attack unsuspecting hands with claws and/or teeth (preferably both) and eat.

I shall close this post with a complaint issued in the direction of [livejournal.com profile] crazedturkey and [livejournal.com profile] rigel_7: Where are the promised voice posts?  Where??  How can I be jelaous of the fun you were having/are having/did have if I'm not hearing all about it?
katiefoolery: (Olivier is peerless)
TV made me miserable.

Well, actually, that’s not entirely true.  I made myself miserable.  And this stupid headache is certainly being very generous in the misery-creation department.  But TV made it worse.

Stupid TV.  I knew there was a reason we split up in the first place.  (Nobody tell the internet that I’ve been cheating on it with my ex, OK?  It’ll find out eventually, I guess.  I just don’t want to be sitting there, innocently watching the news on my ex, only to have the internet storm in and look shocked and appalled at the whole situation.  That’d be rather tricky.  I’d just have to hope we could wait until an ad break to sort it out.)

But I had a point.  Didn’t I?

Oh yes - TV and its role in making me miserable.  There I was, innocently lying on the couch, angsting a little (OK, a lot), when TV serves up an episode of introspection and self-evaluation and people drinking a lot and not brushing their hair... for some reason.  Or maybe it was just incredibly windy out - I really can’t say.

And then, after forty-five minutes or so of people really getting their teeth into some gritty character acting... one of them goes and dies.  Said death is swiftly followed by one last chance for some of the aforementioned gritty character acting, then credits.

And me, sitting on the couch, torn between angsty misery and futile anger at the whole concept of TV and the dramas broadcast thereon.

Don’t you hate that when it happens, though?  You try and watch TV to have some fun or escape from the angsty rubbish in your head, and then it goes and makes it worse.
katiefoolery: (Turles gushes... sarcastically I'm sure)
I keep finding reasons to like Winter.

This is rather disturbing.

I Do Not Like Winter.  It is cold and miserable and I spend all of my time dreaming of Summer and of not wearing a million layers of clothing or having to cope with one’s stupid umbrella breaking in the stupid wind when one needs it for protection against the stupid rain.

But, on the other hand...

In Winter, I get to wear gloves and that means I don’t have to touch metal door-handles or poles on the bus with my bare skin.  This is quite a boon for someone who can’t stand the feel of metal.

In Winter, I get to wear lovely warm coats, such as the wool and cashmere one I bought for my birthday.  It’s incredibly warm and, as an added bonus, it makes me look ridiculously slim.  (As an added added bonus, I got five dollars off the price because one of the buttons was missing and later found said button in one of the pockets.)

Oh, and in Winter, I get to wear boots.  Oh, the boots.  I have such a problem there.  I won’t go into that any further.

As if this sudden gratitude for cold weather wasn’t bad enough, it took a turn for the worse the other day.  I’d just been on a trip to the supermarket across the road in the freezing cold winds of icy doom and I stepped back inside.  My normal reaction upon doing this is to run up to the door behind which the central heating unit resides and shower it with mushy praise and protestations of undying love.  The other day?  I stepped inside and thought: Hmm... it’s a bit too warm in here.


Despite this sudden rather worrying... fondness for cold weather, I still managed to enjoy my birthday.  It was helped along by some amazing people and their equally amazing generosity.  My evil twin, [livejournal.com profile] the_kaytinator, sent me a delightful parcel of goodies (the scarf is so warm); [livejournal.com profile] etherealdeva and [livejournal.com profile] charliemc gave me birthday vgifts; and [livejournal.com profile] linnet_101 was very understanding when I accidentally responded to her birthday sms with a single asterisk.  And so many other people did lovely things for me and I’m so grateful for it.  Thank you all. :D
katiefoolery: (Renji wasn't paying attention there)
I’m alive!

I think...


Yes - that seems to be all in order there.

Still, I seem to be keeping up my pattern of posting once every fortnight or so.  At least it’s sort semi-regular, if not terribly active.  I’ve just been feeling weird on LJ, ever since the whole Strikethrough ’07 business.  It didn’t actually affect me directly, but it completely changed the way I feel about LJ and my presence therein.  Here’s my analogy:

It’s like spending a lot of time living on your own, being all grown-up and independent... only to come home from work one day and find that your parents have turned up and have gone through all of your stuff while you were out.  And to further find out that they’ve decided to move in with you.

That’s how it feels.  Every time I post something on LJ, I feel as though someone’s standing over my shoulder, watching everything I type.  It’s a tiny bit of an over-reaction, I know, but I just can’t shake it.

So instead, I’ve been spending my time beta-ing or mucking about on messageboards or talking to various people for fifteen hours straight like I did yesterday.

I’m even thinking of doing some writing.
katiefoolery: (Renji wasn't paying attention there)
I’m having one of those strange days where I just like typing.  It doesn’t matter what it is - I could be writing the greatest novel even known to humankind or a list of reasons why I shouldn’t stay up long past midnight on a work night - as long as I’m typing something, my brain and fingers are happy.

Actually, now that I think of it, I probably should write that list of reasons why I shouldn’t stay up long past midnight on a work night.  I really do need more than five hours’ sleep, especially if my cursed cat is going to insist on waking me up half an hour before the alarm.  If she wasn’t so damn cute she’d be right out on the streets.  Although I did feel slightly bad when I accidentally kicked her in the head.  I wasn’t trying to!  She was trying to rub on my legs (universal cat-speak for “FEED ME NOW FOR I AM CUTE BUT ALSO STARVING TO DEATH!”) and I was trying to prevent it as I was still sulking over her waking me up at an unearthly hour... and this resulted in my kicking her slightly.  She didn’t mind but then, she was rather focussed on getting some food out of me.  If she had to put up with a small kick to the head to get her breakfast, then so be it.

And then she knocked half of her biscuits onto the floor and refused to pick them up when I told her to.  She’s such a disobedient cat.

In other news, I’ve been trying to get back to my habit of writing a list of tasks to accomplish each day.  The only down-side is I usually end up laughing at said list by the end of the day, amused by my absolute inability to complete even the simplest of tasks.  So far, I’ve failed to: write several emails, write one hundred words, complete a drabble, make a new banner for my LJ and finish beta-ing one chapter.  On the up side, I have written (and read) several rather long PMs, created havoc in the Survivor game I’m running with [livejournal.com profile] linnet_101, made two and a half banners (although NOT for my LJ) and found the time to curse my iriver at length for failing to have a proper shuffle songs function.

I am achieving things; they just happen to be the wrong things.
katiefoolery: (Goku approves!)
Firstly, an apology and a thank-you to anyone to whom I angsted about my job these past few days.  You’ve helped me more than you could know, just by sitting there and being pushed closer and closer to your boredom threshold by hearing my litany of work-related woes.  I probably make it sound as though I do nothing but sit on the internet at work all day, having fun - but it’s not true.  Well, not any more. :p  And I wouldn’t need to do it at all if I didn’t live in the wrong hemisphere.  At least with Ober.net, the majority of the people are Australian and it was easy to wait until after work to interact with them.  But I’m one of only about three Australians at the Salon and the best time to be online and interacting with people just so happens to be while I’m at work.

But I guess I’ll just have to take what I can and live for my long weekends, where I can have as much fun as I want.

Truly, the lack of distraction now available to me only serves to remind me how tedious and unnispiring this job really is.  Which brings me to the title of this post: I am not my job.  The good Gill mentioned this to me and at the time, I thought that it wasn’t a necessary thing to say.  Surely I wasn’t thinking that?  But it turns out the good almost-doctor knows more about me than I do myself.  By Saturday, I was already becoming miserable about returning to work.  Saturday morning.  With two full days of laziness ahead of me, I was already despondent about Monday.  Luckily, I had plenty to distract me.  For instance, receiving PMs full of exclamation marks and excessive praise certainly goes a long way towards making me feel fantastic about things.

But every now and then, the looming spectre of Monday would pop up and lurk darkly in the background, mocking me with its very existence.

Until I got to Sunday and grew heartily sick of it.  It was at this point that Gill’s words came back to me.  I’m not my job.  I’m much more than my job and I won’t let it ruin my weekends with its stupid lurking and posturing.  So I told it what it could do (and I wasn’t polite at all) and got back to enjoying my weekend.

Mind you, I was just out there in the library ten minutes ago, millimetres away from banging my head against the shelves in bored frustration, but I think I’ll be able to cope.  It’s just what I do so I can have the money to live in a nice house and enjoy my fast internet, right?  And it doesn’t define me or have the right to ruin my fun.

I’d use this time for writing if all the stories in my head weren’t so damned...  Hmm, how do I put that?  “Less than pure”?  There’s no way I’m going to use a work computer to write any of them.

Back then

Nov. 7th, 2006 10:25 am
katiefoolery: (LJ addict)
I’m happy to announce that my journal is now tagged from start to finish.  Indeed it is.  Nearly three years of entries are classified and catalogued and can be easily accessed via the tag function... and now my brain is officially dead.  It turns out there’s only so much of re-reading one’s old entries a brain can take and I must have breached that barrier at some stage last night.

The scariest thing is, I really don't like the person who was writing in this journal in 2004.  Wait, that sounds nasty and uncharitable... yet I can’t think of any other way to express it.  I mean, the me who wrote in 2004 wasn’t awful.  She had, after all, written an entire first draft of Black Fiddle and was working on various short stories.  Alas for her, she was also catless and stuck in a tiny unit with a kitchen designed for stick-figures.

Luckily, she had a Timothy to cook for her and execute sundry chauffering duties.

But I don’t think I’d want to drop by and visit.

On the other hand, I wonder if the old me would want a visit in the first place?

Old me: So, how’s Black Fiddle going?  Have you started submitting that?
Current me: Oh.  Um.  You mean that first draft you wrote two years ago that I still haven’t actually done anything with?
Old me: *gapes*
Current me: *looks embarrassed (mostly at the shocking grammatical structure of what I’ve just said...)*
Old me: Well, have you at least moved out of this box?
Current me: Oh yes.  Of course, our air conditioner doesn’t work so we boil in Summer.  But we have a cat!
Old me: Ooh, a cat!
Current me: Yeah, she likes to stop us from sleeping-in by scratching at the wardrobe doors around four thirty in the morning.  Isn’t that nice?
Old me: Err...

All things considered, that would be a perilously boring conversation.  And I could potentially jeapordise my own future existence, so I’d better not risk it, really.

Instead, I shall wave goodbye to my former self and make a vow to get my current month’s word-count over one thousand today.  Since that will entail writing a mere one hundred and sixty-two words, I need to get started on some solid procrastinating right now.


Sep. 26th, 2006 04:19 pm
katiefoolery: (Just waiting)
Ah, holidays.  There’s nothing like them.  How wonderful to be able to wake whenever you like to look forward to a day full of nothing but the things you want to do.  I don’t think I’ve achieved anything so far these holidays... and I don’t care!

I have made some observations though.  They are as follows.

1.  I think I’m growing out of the colour pink.  I spent the first twenty or so years of my life hating the colour with an incredible passion.  It was with a great shock that I realised a year or so ago that I had suddenly started liking it.  When did this happen? I wailed to myself.  When did I say I was allowed to suddenly like pink?  But there were no answers forthcoming so I just went with it and indulged in the pink.

And now I believe I have reached the threshold.  For example, please examine the colours of this morning:

  • I woke up wearing pink pyjamas

  • I put on my pink dressing gown and pink slippers before heading off for my shower

  • I plugged in my pink iPod mini to charge

  • ...while it was in its pink leather case

  • I took the money for my bus ticket out of my pink wallet

Clearly, there is too much pink in my life and it’s starting to get on my nerves.  From now on, I think I’ll go back to blue.

2. My other observation is that I really need to give my stories better file names.  I spent about ten minutes yesterday looking for a particular story and only found it by opening a file by pure chance.

3. In a slightly-related observation to the above, Windows’ file search function should try searching all files as I requested, instead of ignoring all the WordPerfect files in the folder.  If it did this, then I wouldn’t have had to make observation number two.

My final observation is that you know you’re addicted to fonts when you see a number-plate with “TTF” on it and seriously consider taking a photo of it with your phone, just to remember it.  Luckily, I resisted this urge.
katiefoolery: (LJ addict)
I think I’m addicted to the internet.

I know it’s been said in the past and usually in jest.  “Oh, haha!  Verily, my life doth revolve around this inter-connected network!”  And I’d laugh it off and just accept that this was the way things were.

But now I'm in deadly earnest.  I seriously think I'm addicted to the internet.  As addictions go, it’s not too bad though, is it?  I mean, it’s quite social.  I’ve made many friends through the internet and my main sources of addiction are LJ and messageboards... which are all about people.

It’s not an expensive addiction, either.  It probably only costs a couple of dollars a day.

I’m not damaging my health with it, although I probably could get up and walk around a bit more...

But last night, my Timothy (or ‘the serious heads’, for those who know him differently) suggested that limiting my interent on my Fridays off might make me more productive, writing-wise.

I swear, I all but broke out in a cold sweat at the thought.

“But... but...” I stammered.

“You could still use it when I got home,” my Timothy said, oblivious to the fact that I was shaking and turning pale.  “It would be just the same as a normal work day.”

Which isn’t all that accurate.  “But I use the internet all the time at work!” I cried, in a desperate attempt to hold onto my fix.

It was probably at this point that I suddenly realised I really was addicted... and that I have to do something about it.  It won’t be anything drastic.  I couldn’t give up the internet entirely, but I really should cut back a bit.  I should read some more; write some more; spend a little time away from the addictive, glowing wonder that is the internet.

I can’t stay away for long, anyway.  It’s in my blood-stream now.


Sep. 18th, 2006 11:30 am
katiefoolery: (*dies from cute*)
It never pays to ignore signs, does it?  And I'm not just talking about the ones that say "No parking here, unless you want your car to be horribly crushed from above by a grand piano" or "Do not press this button.  I’m serious.  THIS MEANS YOU".  There are more subtle signs out there and I've been noticing one or two.

For instance, when you receive your weekly email from Borders and squee with delight to discover that this week’s voucher is offering you twenty-five percent off manga, what should you do?  Ignore it?  Or take as a sign from above that you should go out and buy copious amounts of manga?  Right now.  Or at least before the voucher expires.

Unsurprisingly, I went with the second option.  That’s one of those signs I have no intention of ignoring.  (Although I substituted “four volumes” for “copious amounts”.  I’m not made of money, alas.)

The other sign that’s bugging me at the moment is coming from my computer.  It’s getting on, is my old desktop.  Well, it’s three and a half years old.  Once upon a time, it was a sprightly young thing that exploded with energy and jumped up and down, eager to do what it was told.  Now, I think it’s turning into a teenager.  It’s surly and disobedient.  If it actually does decide to do what I ask of it, then it does it in its own good time.  Or never.  Whichever comes last.  It has trouble waking up.  I open Firefox and five minutes later, it appears.  It tells me I’m doing things I’m not and refuses to listen to what I have to say.

It can’t concentrate on more than one thing at a time and it wanders off from those things when it loses interest in them.

It sleeps in.

For hours.

It also stays up late for hours, but that’s my fault.  What’s the point of going to bed before midnight when you’re on holidays?  Well, unless you've fallen asleep on the keyboard first, I suppose.

In short, I think today might be the day to do the most thorough backup of files known to Bunne-kind.

After I finish drooling over my manga, of course.
katiefoolery: (Just waiting)
I’ve never been a huge fan of irony.

Actually, that’s not true.  I quite like irony... when it’s on my side.  When irony makes an enemy of itself, that’s when the resentment kicks in.

For instance, I knew I shouldn’t have complained about the year’s going by too quickly.  It was just tempting fate.  Deep down, I knew that, but I still complained, didn’t I?

And now, irony has barged through the door, thrown its dirty boots on the couch and decided to slow things right down for me.  I swear, I just saw a snail zoom past, chuckling maliciously at my fate.

I’ve only been at work for two hours but it already feels like a whole term has gone by. It’s so slow it’s painful.  I’m so bored I actually caught myself all but falling asleep at my computer.

This is what you get when you complain to the fates.  They simply seize upon a chance to treat the foolhardy to a timely lesson in asking for things they’re not sure they want.  At this rate, I’ll be eligible to retire by the time I can actually leave work today.  I’ll be worrying about superannuation and developing an unhealthy obsession with perfectly-pruned rose bushes.

I take back what I said the other day!  It’s fine if time speeds by, really it is.  Just... make my working day go a little faster, please?  It’s the bits when I’m at home or on holidays that should be dragging along like this, to the point where I can almost feel every second of every minute.

Somehow, I can already tell that irony is going to ensure that the last two weeks of term drag on forever while the two weeks of holiday that follow will be gone in the blink of an eye.

Things turn

Sep. 1st, 2006 05:59 pm
katiefoolery: (Glum)
So, it’s the first day of September and Spring is upon us.  And I’m almost positive that the hayfever is kicking in already.  Stupid pollen.

Hang on - the first day of September?  The start of Spring?  How did that happen?  Last time I looked, it was about March and Summer was still hanging around, despite the polite coughs we kept hearing from Autumn.  How did it suddenly become September?  Why does the year fly by so damn quickly?

It’s not right.

I’m not ready to get hayfever.

Although I can’t really complain about the prospect of longer days and warmer weather.  Much as I love my scarves, I love it ever better when I don’t have to wear them any more.  But before we know it, Summer will have arrived and the television will be yelling at us about Christmas and how we should all be spending lots of money in this store or that store and I’ll be on holidays, really hoping that I’ll be able to go back to my job next year.


I really wish things would slow down sometimes.  Even though I start the working week on Monday, already dreaming of Thursday (when my working week ends), I still wish it didn’t come around so quickly.  It seems wrong.  I need more of a chance to grab hold of things as they happen and appreciate them and you can’t do that when the days are whizzing around your head like a mosquito on a piece of string.

Is it too much to ask for things to slow down a little?


Jul. 25th, 2006 11:02 am
katiefoolery: (Default)
I apologise in advance to all the teenagers on my friends list, but what I am about to say is for your own good.  Really.  Reading this post may possibly prevent you from being mocked, laughed at or otherwise embarrassed in your dealings with those older than yourself. Listen well and learn.

Do you know what is the single most funny thing any teenager can say to an adult?  Do you know how you can reduce them to gales of mocking laughter in the space of five seconds?  Do you know how you can make yourself look like a complete moron without even trying?

Just say this:

“Adults have no idea what teenagers are doing.”

Eight words.  Eight simple words, and your reputation, your respectability and your intelligence are deflated quicker than a balloon meeting with an unfortunate accident with a hedgehog.

It really is the funniest thing any adult can hear, even an adult who’s only in her twenties.  I could laugh all day, just from turning the phrase over and enjoying the idioicy of it from different angles.  If someone actually said it to me in person, I really don’t believe I’d have the slightest chance of stopping myself from laughing in their face.

Seriously, where do teenagers like that think adults come from?  Surely they have the brains to realise that adults were teenagers once, too.  I know I was.  And I was really an awful person.  I was bad-tempered, opinionated and intolerant of stupidity.  Fortunately, I grew out of it but the point is that I was there once.  Just because I spent most of my teenage years in a book or in front of a computer doesn’t mean I wasn’t there.

Strange to say, every other adult in the world was a teenager, too.  And they know exactly what teenagers do.  Of course, now they have to face the fact that teenagers are doing those things with the help of the internet and other technological aids, but they’re still well aware of what’s going on.


They really didn’t just turn up one day, fully grown and completely ignorant of what happens between the ages of thirteen and nineteen, inclusive.  They actually went through it themselves.  They most likely did all those things that you think they’re ignorant of.  And if they didn’t do them, they sure as hell thought about doing them (repeatedly, if possible) or knew people who had done them.

So please – save yourself the embarrassment and don’t ever tell an adult they don’t know what teenagers are doing.  They know all about it and it’s even possible they did it better than you.
katiefoolery: (Black Fiddle cover)
I have been reading in the manner which is often referred to as “voraciously” or, alternatively, “as though it’s going out of fashion”.  In fact, it struck me the other day that I haven’t been this obsessed with reading since I was about fourteen or fifteen.  The internet didn’t really exist then, so the family computer was purely for, well, fighting over with my brother and my dad.  Three of us on the one computer, all needing it for various reasons of importance.  How did we cope?

So, as I was saying: when I couldn’t get my skinny but rather strong fingers on the keyboard of said computer, then all that was left to me was reading.  Or homework.  But who’d do homework when there’s a good book to be had?

I had a reputation as a Reader since primary school.  The librarian there fully expected me to read about three books overnight and would have passed out in shock if I’d only read two.  And when I moved on to secondary school, I had to factor in a bus-trip that took one hour one way and half an hour back... plenty of time for reading there.  And that’s what I did.  I read.  Voraciously.

That’s not to say that I stopped once I left secondary school – not at all.  But I no longer grabbed every spare minute for reading and I often had to spend my time on public transport reading books or notes for uni, which isn’t really recreational unless you’re a masochist.  In the last few years, most of my reading has been reserved for work and for travelling home from work.  Hardly any of it has been done at home.

But for the last few weeks, all that has changed.  Nothing pleases me more than to curl up in my reading chair (after having brushed copious amounts of Pickle-fur off first, of course) and to dive into my latest book.  I’ve even put aside the internet in favour of a book, which is quite a development, really.

And a most miraculous thing has happened.  I find I am stuffed full of words.  I have soaked up the words of these books and kept pouring them in until I was full up.  For the first time in a very long while, I have felt a genuine, physical need to write, to get the words out of me and into a story.  It seems that my previous level of reading was only just keeping my word-level at minimal: this sudden influx of thousands and thousands of words has well and truly brought my word-level right up to full.  To overflowing, in fact.

Everyone says reading is good for writers.  You can’t be a writer if you’re not a reader in the first place.  But it turns out that there’s no such thing as moderation in reading.  You shouldn’t cut back on books... for any reason.  It’s far too dangerous.  You cannot have too much of a good thing when it comes to books.  In fact, it’s quite possible to have too little.  I don’t think it’s fatal, but it can certainly make your writing quite anaemic.

So, I shall keep up this level of reading, if I possibly can.  I shall balance internet, reading and writing to the best of my ability.  And I shall ask for recommendations, because I’ve reached the bottom of my reading pile.  Once I finish The Eyre Affair, I’ll be needing some books to fill the void.  So, please tell me: what’s your favourite book and why should I read it?  I need to know, lest my word-level falls too far to be recovered.

April 2011

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