Friday, December 19, 2008

Death Watch Beetle

The death watch beetle can be heard by those lying sleepless at night wondering about the sound of death. It taps or ticks, and is named for the vigil kept beside the dying or dead, and by extension the superstitious who have seen the death watch as an omen of impending death.

I am a death watch beetle. I keep watch by the side of one who is about to pass on.

It is with some trepidation that I write this, because I know how much this subject hurts the person closest to me.

But it plays on my mind. I can't stop my thoughts, and my thoughts ask if you would seek peace or torment?

Would you choose to be imprisoned in a decaying unresponsive shell?

Would you choose to be a rag doll dependent on others for all your bodily needs?

I will sing to you until you stop. I will give you my voice until it breaks. But I cannot truly believe that the God that you believe in would wish you to end your days this way. A prisoner of your own soul. A frail vessel that disintegrates whilst those about you can only try to do what is right by them.

I do love you. But this is breaking my heart, and his soul.

Friday, December 12, 2008


I had a fab day. I also got a bit hammered and hugged the world and it's mother. My maiden Aunty Elsie (76 and never dallied...) was shocked at my apparently outrageous flirting! Saying as the hugs were indiscriminately being sown (my classmates, my lecturers, my husband, my aunty herself, the Big Issue seller on Grey Street, the nice boy in Fenwicks who sold me Laptop Ares at a vastly inflated price whilst I was inebriated...) I suspect it was more a case of hug diarrhea than any serious attempt at flirting. Anyway when I flirt, I flirt like a house brick.

Class of 2008: I'm the gormless redhead on the left, next to Louise, David and Andrew (who won a prize, the Git!)

GD is:
listening to the plumber destroying the bathroom, Marilyn Manson's Mechanical Animals, and enjoying an illicit afternoon off work. Also about to drink red wine, eat chocolate and attempt to put the Christmas tree up. And make a start at rebuilding my I Tunes library, as I don't download, I import from CD. I'm old fashioned like that...

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Death of Zeus

You're probably thinking who the hell was Zeus (apart from the fact he was the head of the Greek gods, obviously...). Well, Zeus was my laptop for the past four years. Solid, dependable, honest and hardworking, he never flickered as the repository for all of the crappy story writing and dodgy web surfing that I carried out on his uncomplaining shoulders.

But Zeus is no more. I killed Zeus. And it damn near broke my heart. Now I treat my electronic objects with respect. I name them. I never treat them rough and I always read the manuals. And it all started with a late finish at work and a very bored dog...

Came home several hours late. Found laptop power cable had been eaten (thank the pantheon it hadn't been switched on). Very guilty looking puppy sat in a mess of plastic bits and toilet roll (she'd rampaged in the bathroom as well as the study). So order new a/c, you'd think it be easy as Zeus was Dell born so rather ubiquitous...

Oh no. Not so easy, so I borrowed the power cable from my friends almost identical Dell laptop. Plugged in my baby and POOF! Zeus no more...sad little warning lights twinkled and faded and he died a sad and dignified death by electrocution at my very own hands...

So farewell Zeus, my well configured boy. My tooled up and switched on baby, holder of four years of stories, photos and knocked off software.

So to how to replace Zeus...well I now have Ares, a young upstart with pretensions of grandeur. Like not giving me administrator rights to allow me to install free anti-viral, anti spybot etc software. No Microsoft office (they'll give you a 'free' trial if you sign your life and your laptop's integrity away to them so THEY can spy on your every action). We'll see how he settles into the family. But wish I'd bought the right a/c and just waited a little longer for delivery. Or bought an I-Mac instead of Ares.

GD is: foaming, irritated and burning a very short fuse; having to socialise tonight at a restaurant I don't like (everyone's fingers are in everyone else's dishes - EURGH! Germs). Listening to Siobhan Donaughy's Ghosts which is quite lovely but very Natalie Imbrulia; reading Alan Moore's Watchmen, The Colour Purple (which was on the shelf for about ten years before I finally picked it up) and Eleanor of Aquitaine by Alison Weir. Not much then...

Monday, December 01, 2008

Hodge Podge

Life's a bit of a mixed basket at the moment. There's a few ripe cherries (notably the Saw Doctors last Friday, complete with a bit of dancing in the aisles and pints in the Bodega afterwards) and a few sour plums. The sour plum knows very well what and who it is and is currently attempting to make recompense for it's transgressions....we shall see how it fairs. I really don't like people taking the piss, so the plum had better learn it's lesson or find itself squelched beneath the boot heel of doom.

I graduate my Master in Creative Writing next Monday with commendation (I may have mentioned that before....big head? Moi?!), have bought fabulous if slightly frivolous frock for the occasion. Not that I need an excuse for frock buying. I'm looking into sponsored PhD's - I can't afford to pay for myself any more, what with spiralling costs. P's MSc is £1,800 this year, £200 more than last year which is shocking as he doesn't get formal teaching, only dissertation guidance three times a semester.

So life just...trundles on. Despite my inherent solipsism I haven't even got the bones of a decent post to stick here, only a recounting of the passing of my days in a haze of mediocrity and cold bones.

Oh, I did have a message on the answerphone the other day that made me shudder in abject horror. The Father (ten stone weakling, in 70's) has a girlfriend (twenty two stone, 60's). Not a pretty picture is it? Especially as GirlFriend has a new phone that OldGoat can't work, so left a message hollering 'Where are you? You're never bloody in!'...then failed to hang up, upon which a conversation ensued regarding GF's new phone. 'Fit's in yer hand nicely,' spouts Dad, 'Bit like me dick...'....NO NO NO NO NO!!!! NO and NO!!!!!

I'm having lunch with them tomorrow. HTF am I meant to keep a straight face...?

GD: freezing her hypothetical nads off, listening to QOTSA, ordering inappropriate presents for work colleagues (damn that Secret Santa! Damn him! This year's recipient is getting a Jew's Harp, otherwise known as a Khomus amongst other things)