I'm still in a bit of a shock that's it's already Thanksgiving. When did that happen? Wasn't my birthday a couple weeks ago??? I plan to spend a couple days with my family and then a couple days at home. The perfect Thanksgiving in my mind.
Work: No change from September. Which means it's still chaotic and unorganized and no one knows what the hell going on. Add in the fact that there has been discussions of those of us at the capital to the other building (which is a good 30 mins away from the capital) and I'm frustrated and incredibly disappointed with certain people.
Home: No progress at all beyond cleaning out the craft room closet. And all of that stuff is still sitting in my hallway *eyeroll*
Crafts: I finished the holiday gifts last month. So I made this cute scarf for myself. I just need to finish up the green socks I started a while ago so I can start on some newer larger projects.
Flute!: I finally got around to contacting a flute instructor and had my first lesson last week. I've decided one hour biweekly lessons is the way to go. And it's coming back to me despite it being 2 years since my last lesson.
And Car: And I will keep it clean. Some idiot (who lives several doors down from me) decided he could not wait for me to turn left into my driveway and decided to go around me. On the left. Which means my car is now sporting a large dent above the driver's back wheel. Needless to say I was beyond pissed. That he got charged for following too closely is the only bright spot. I'm waiting to hear from the insurance to get the fixing details worked out.
I hope everyone has a marvelous Thanksgiving!
I did not get up this morning.
Sometimes I get a little boxed in by my routines. For the most part things work out really well and by sticking to my routines as much as possible I can keep control over my days. I had been "dream feeding" Chewie at 10--feeding her in her sleep so that she would make it until the morning (7:30) and not have her sleep interrupted. Lately she's been waking up at 10. Which is no longer a dream feed and pretty indicative of a habitual waking. The last couple of nights I fed her only one side, something that would have caused a 3 or 4 am waking a few weeks ago. She took it and slept until 7:30. Or well, 7:20, but we're not going to quibble. Last night I decided not to go up there at all. She woke when Vader took SkyWalker and the Princess to the bathroom. I grumbled but didn't go up. She wasn't screaming or crying but really just fussing. She went back to sleep after just a few minutes. I was truly shocked when my alarm went off at 5:30 and I realized I hadn't been up yet. I knew this had become a habit waking but part of me was afraid to not feed her. Not that she would wake me up later, but just because she seems so similar to SkyWalker--born early and small, not the easiest pooping, looks just like him--that in the back of my head I thought "I don't want another baby to stop gaining weight." But she is not SkyWalker and she is still gaining weight. She now has some chunky thighs like her big sister. And she is a week away from cereal anyway. I decided I didn't need to wait until EXACTLY 6 months, so I'm doing it just one week early--on Thanksgiving so my mom can be there. My mother was there for the other 2 and now she can be there for Chewie's first cereal tasting as well.
I am up before the sun and all the children and dogs and husband are still sleeping and it is glorious. I was only tired for a few minutes and now I am awake and wondering why I couldn't drag my lazy butt out of bed for the last couple of weeks. We have had a rough patch-- Chewie has been eating like a fiend and SkyWalker spent a few days throwing up. And when you have 3 the odds of you being woken up in the middle of the night aren't 3 times as great it's a MILLION times as great. Throw in Scratchy the dog who likes to scratch his skin off or lick himself ad nauseum. Literally--he threw up this week too.
Hello folks.
Just a quick post to say I've moved my blog so I won't be posting here anymore.
The new blog can be found at http://misswizsblog.blogspot.com/
Hope to see some of you there!
Much love,
Sarah
After the last couple of ranty blogs, I've decided to post a bit nicer one.
Today, I've been looking up tattoos for future purchasing, and whilst I was on the hunt, I came across some really funky and some really funny ones.
I'm encouraging my dad to get this.
He's not gone bald yet, but if I start at him now, I might have worn him down enough by the time he is.
*dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad*
Not one you have to spend to long explaing to the kids.
I'm also thinking this would be a great ice breaker.
"So whats that on your leg?"
"Oh a dot-to-dot"
"What of?"
*passes pen*
Way to make an amputation even cooler than it already was.
What worries me, other than the manky state of the remaining toes, look how much space is left for the big toe.
I'm guessing it was misplaced in some sort of diabetic accident.
Eat your broccoli kids.
OMGLOLZ!!!!1
We're talking a good five minutes, then another 3 when I uploaded it now.
In case you don't get it, well it will lose something in translation but I'll give it a go.
HTML: A language used for coding webpages. A "tag" tells the browser what it's trying to read.
A tag is usually opened in between the arrow heads like this < > and closed like this < / >.
The tag for the title of a webpage is < head >
The tag for the main body of a webpage unsurprisingly is < body >
So this tattoo is saying the head ends here, and the body begins here.
VERY FUNNY.
Less in letter form this time, more in rant.
Following on from my last little rant about the nightmare of a time I've had trying to sort out my Vodaphone bill, things have become just that little bit more annoying.
For starters, in case you didn't notice, a member of a "on line relations team" contacted me on here and twitter in a very grovelling manor and suggested I contact them to see how things could have gone better (like they could have gone any worse) and at the time of writing the blog I just wanted a place to vent, and no matter how much they tried to sooth my ego I wasn't about to take the blog down.
However, on Saturday morning (a day earlier than predicted) I got another call from the debt collection people. This time, they knew that they I'd paid £150, and they knew I didn't have to pay the cancellation fee, what I did still owe them was their £90 admin fee.
Fuck. That.
I'm not paying £90 admin fee for the admin on a debt I didn't even have.
The thing is, they knew I'd made a deal with Vodafone, or they would still be asking for £700, but the guy I spoke to kept saying there should never have been a deal, and he wanted names of people who'd made the deal.
To be honest, I'm not going to grass up the people at Vodafone who made me the deal, if it wasn't for them, I'd have to pay an arse load more.
So, I phone Vodafone back up and ask them what they were going to do about it.
"Well, we have to pass this on to our debt liaison team" who, you guessed it, weren't in that day. "I'll leave a note on your file, and we'll have this sorted out first thing Monday morning"
As a side note, this whole leaving notes on my file does very little, when I have to explain from the beginning every time I talk to a new person, which is every time I phone up. Which is getting to be, everyday.
Anyway, Monday morning rolls round, and guess who phones up. DLC debt collection agency and their demanding phone manor.
So I phone Vodafone up again (I think by now I warranted a free month of contract phone for all the calls I've made from my land line) only to be told that the person who said shed sort it out on Monday morning was a down right stinking liar. The woman I spoke to this time actually put me on hold (please get more than 2 tracks, I know them off by heart now) and spoke to the liaison people there and then, so no more calls from the Debt people. Hurrah.
However, what she did say was, drum roll please.. THE PAYMENT STILL HADN'T GONE THROUGH.
For fucks sake, it's been 11 days allowing for the fact I paid early Friday and phoned up late Monday.
So. If I hear any more from the debt people or vodafone (other than my monthly bill) I will scream.
And you can stick your phone. Up your arse.
Oh, I almost forgot, I sent the on line relations team a email on Sunday, yet to hear back from them. wonderful, speedy help there.
This time, armed with sleep, I managed to get up AM, woohoo.
As there wasn’t a great deal to be done on zero money, Nic and I decided a day of vegging out with comedy DVDs was in order. Dara O’Briain Talks Funny, which I don’t own, so was great fun to watch, Alan Davies Urban Trauma, which was mine (As a side note, I think I’m the only person that still owns this, and I know I’m the only person to own the Live at the Lyric VHS. I paid a bloody fortune for that) and later Jeff Green Back from the Bewilderness, also mine.
Onto the reason I came up to Sheffield in the first place (other than to spend some time with a like minded comedy friend) Ross Noble hosting Riders for health. You can read more about this charity here
Now, up until a couple of days before I left, they hadn't released the line up, which in my mind either meant it was gonna be shit, or gonna be super.
Turns out it was a happy combination of them both.
*I'd just like to take this opportunity to say it's been 2 weeks, and I have a crap memory for the order of things, but I do remember the sets quite well*
Ross started off the night by telling people how to piss themselves, and how shit Nick Griffin looked on Newsnight, and somehow Ross got his shirt caught on the microphone and started parading about the stage.
Toby Foster.
Just because he organised most of the festival, he thinks he's the best thing to happen to planet earth since sliced bread. NEWS FLASH. No he's not. He's like a slightly younger Bernard Manning, and I had a full blown party when he died, if somehow Toby can disappear before next years festival, I'll at least break out the dance machine.
Everly Pregnant Brothers
I'll be honest, the title didn't inspire me with much confidence, bad plays on words shit me up something rotten. So it came as no surprise to me, when 5 of them came out and sat on chairs, Toby Foster joined them and they preceded to play the worst pop songs known to mankind (I will survive, 6"2 eyes of blue) changing a grand total of one word in each. I don't like parodies at the best of times, doubly when they aren't even proper parodies. Ugh.
Thank god for the distraction of Ross in between acts of I may have walked there and then. The second part involved him putting the mic stand in his fly’s and pole dancing with it. Much to our amusement, but probably down right annoying for the next act who had to wait ages for him to sod off,
Next act was Idiot of Ants, who I'd heard a hell of a lot about since Melbourne, I remember lots of people ranting and raving about their show, and I was not disappointed. Lovely (if not slightly sexist) routine about a hen party who get a sex change, and the Guantanamo camp for an education in crappy dad jokes (Have a nice trip, send us a postcard) Without a doubt some of the best sketch comedy I've seen in a long time.
After the designated piss break was the raffle (Top/only prize was an afternoon go-karting with Ross and any others of the line-up that could be dragged along) It's a shame that the person who won it didn't sound totally thrilled, I'd have been jumping up and down like a loon.
Anyhow, penultimate act was the lovely Bernie Clifton who I was convinced was dead, so when the first words out of his mouth were "Bet you thought I was dead" Nic and I almost pissed ourselves laughing. The usual riding around on his ostrich and his not so normal riding about on a nun, and giving a truck load of gifts to one poor woman on the front row (including a massive inflatable of himself)
How do you follow that as a headline act I hear you say? Well by none other than
EDDIE IZZARD!
So happy to finally see Eddie live, and he was fantastic. He had great fun talking about the Romans and the big swords they used to have, which lead to an extended routine about people trying to kill themselves by impaling themselves onto the end of it and moving slowly up the blade. Ok so Eddie material doesn't transcript very well. The thing that made me chuckle the most was him saying that if God has this wonderful plan it's unfolding very much like he hasn't got a plan. And if he did have a plan, why did he not just ping Hitler’s head off!
After the show, my feet were insanely achy (turns out I had a pair of flat shoes with me the whole time, but FORGOT I'd packed them) but we did hang around long enough to see everyone leave. Lots of restraint not to punch Toby, amusing to see St Johns ambulance crew leaving shortly after Bernie, and, the wonderful Eddie Izzard stopped to sign and take pictures. Now, I think anyone who hangs around after is lovely, but doubly for this guy, he's Hollywood, he had a tour bus waiting for him, could more than happily have sodded off but he didn't. Bravo.
After a bit of wine and some munchies back at Nics it was bed time, thus ending my comedy adventures for the year. At least for now!
So. Megabusty to Sheffield wasn't too bad, managed to nab myself a double seat and a couple of hours sleep.
Nic kindly met me off the bus, as I have zero sense of direction in places I know, yet alone those that I don't. Went for a quick fry-up to cure her hangover and my lack of sleep then back to hers for a nap. I was only planning for an hour to remind my body how to function. Turns out my body had other ideas and I didn't wake up till 4PM leaving me just enough time to shovel food down my neck and get dolled up into my costume
I refuse to believe that anyone who knows me well enough to read my blog wont have seen Rocky Horror at least once or on the other end of the scale, have seen it live and know the whole "alternative script" off by heart and have found themselves in Fishnet stockings and shiny clothes
I was with Nic (obviously) and Nic's mum and sister, how great a family is that. Just an iota of thought about my mum in that get up leaves me reaching for the eye bleach.
Anyhoo, for those of you unfamiliar with the rules, here's what happens:
You get a bag of props including "slut" and "Arsehole" cards to be used (and shouted) every time someone on screen said "Brad" or "Janet" (though some people couldn't grasp this and shouted every time they were on screen) along with booing every time Dr Scott was on screen, whooping every time Rocky was on screen, and shouting "WHERE'S YOUR NECK" every time the Pathologist appeared (again, some people got it wrong and booed him).
Other props included a rubber glove to be snapped every time Frank did, a news paper to shelter on when it rained (and someone behind us had a water pistol) and a party popper for when they are "cooooming"!
Anyway, I sang my little heart out, getting rid of all the missed months of Karaoke and singing lessons, but I was so beat after the lack of sleep and my shoes, sexy as they were, ripped my feet to shreds, so no drink was on the cards that night, just an early bed to be alive and well for tomorrow
Despite physically not being able to get out of bed Friday (and most of Thursday) I managed to prop myself up on a bus and head to London.
After loitering in McDonalds for a couple of hours (In a corner with two other asleep people) I got in touch with Linzy and went for a coffee and a catch up (2 month worth of talking) and for some Tru Blood goodies from Liza. After a brief stop at the worlds smallest Travelodge and the world’s only veggie Nandos, we headed off to the Hammersmith Apollo.
Now, as *avid* readers of my blog will know I live in the arse end of nowhere and subsequently the theatre I work at is tiny. As in, you could lose my theatre in the Hammersmith 360 times over. This scares the HOLY SHIT outta me. Needless to say Tim was on cracking form and didn’t subject me to the shiny leggings he'd worn the night before
The only slight hiccup was on "If I didn't have you" where he managed to start the wrong verse, but the relentless backing singers soon told him he was wrong. This is totally and un-biasdly believes do not believe was Tim's fault, but rather brings me onto a rant about the crappyness of the show from a technical point of view.
My new theory is: The bigger the theatre, the less people cares.
1. Related to my last point, Tim didn't have a monitor at the front of stage. He had one by the piano, all well and good, but Tim does 3 numbers away from that one, so why was there not one anywhere else. I think this is what lead Tim to being a beat behind in some of the songs (gonna take some cracking editing there) and probably lead to his error in If I didn't have you.
2. Feedback/Cracking on the mic. I refuse to believe a venue of that size and with that amount of money has such shit microphone that they can be interfered by passing taxis.
3. If you're going to have big fancy pyros on stage, try not to set the performer alight.
4. And this pissed me off all evening. One light (A par-can) was flickering whilst we were taking our seats. The same light then proceeded to flicker all the time the show was on and even when every other light was off. PULL THE FUCKING PLUG.
These are all relatively minor annoyances but seeing as it's a DVD recording you'd think they'd put in a tiny bit of effort. Oh No No No.
Anyhoo, it was a good show deserving of the two standing ovations it got. Tim didn't come out after the show so I couldn't moan at him for not coming out after the last gig.
NOW. If you are my parents. Stop reading. If you are someone I work with. Stop reading. If you are someone who even remotely gives a damn about me. Stop reading.
This is where it gets a bit hairy. Because I was a fool and left all my planning till the last second, I had nowhere to sleep and even though Shell offered, their room really was too small so I decided to have a kip in the train station for 8 hours. Bad move. First I sat in a quiet corner near the baggage collection, till a nice security man kicked me (& others) out. So I moved round the other side. Till a nice security woman kicked EVERYONE out. It was only for two hours; maybe they had to clean up the Saturday night puke. But this opened up the floodgates for a creepy guy to ask me where I was staying, and then follow me outside. Now I only went round the corner where a shuttle bus went every half hour, so there was plenty of people, but this guy would not take no for an answer. So I resorted to my usual method of fixing things and yelled at him. Thus grabbing the attention of the people around me and making the guy bolt.
2 Hours later and I was happily back in the "warmth" of the station, still with 7 hours to go. Because the F'ing clocking went back an hour. AGH. To compensate for this though, there was much hilarity at the coach station.
A big angry dude came rushing in and started banging on the doors, screaming and just generally being as obnoxious as possible. So a megabus driver calmly opened the door:
Man: "What the fuck, why isn't the door opened to the bus, what sorta shit service are you running, it's gone 8 man"
Driver: "Can I see your ticket please"
Man: *Hands over*
Driver: *Rips up ticket* Don't you dare come battering my door down again. It's 7 not 8 because the clocks have gone back an hour. Now get lost.
*Round of applause from nearby affected*
