Don't call me, I'll call you

In the last week I have had two random private messages via Facebook.

The first one was on Saturday and was a personal bitch-attack on the friend that was coming over for supper that evening; evidently another 21-ish year old judging by the use of "cos" and calling herself 'Princess Supersta'.  Surprise, surprise the Princess had mysteriously disappeared from Facebook when I tried to send a mature reply along the lines of "I suggest you refrain from sending nasty messages to people you don't know".    I then had a moral dilemma whether to tell my friend but decided against it; it was a immature, bitchy message not worth ruining our evening for, and probably written after a few glasses of WKD vodka... although it was mid-afternoon.... yep probably that was it.

Tonight I received the following:

Travon L. Blanding    October 12, 2010 at 11:21pm
Subject: whats up????
you gave me your number and now you wont answer your phone!!!! you dont want this big d***???  (asterisks by me)

Well, TRAVON - what sort of name is that?    Considering I haven't been out socially since early August, and I really don't think you were at the cocktail party at the Royal Yacht Squadron, I suspect I didn't give you my number.    Also please note that there should be apostrophes in what's, won't and don't; also it really ought to read "don't you" not "you don't" since what you have written is a statement not a question, and I'm guessing you meant it as a question although a statement would be more accurate.  

I've thought about it, and you're right, I really don't want it.   So I'm just going to click on 'Report', thats ok by you??

Idle thoughts

Quite often, I drop one of my crutches, or both of them - normally when I am balancing them on myself or something else while I use my hand(s) for something else.   As I am a touch-your-toes type of person it's no problem, I can pick them up without any trouble. 

But how do obese people manage?  Presumably they would have to stand there until somebody picked it up for them.

The other thing I have been known to do in the past is sleepwalk.  The two memorable occasions were firstly when I took the duvet into the corner of the bedroom, heaven knows what I was doing with it.  Mr H. wasn't impressed!   Another time (he tells me, I have no recollection) in the days when we set the house alarm at night, I went downstairs, unset the alarm, set it again and went back to bed.    I quite regularly wake up scared thinking there is a stranger in the room or in my bed (interestingly not once has that happened since the accident, but then I have been sleeping alone!); or not knowing where I am and taking a few moments sitting on the edge of the bed putting the pieces of jigsaw together - window, bed, etc. - before I finally work it out and relax.

So, if a compulsive sleepwalker breaks their leg - when they sleepwalk do they remember to take their crutches, or do they try and walk around without them?

The power of colour

It's another beautiful summer October day, and the forecast is dry and sunny for the rest of this week.  I have spent an hour out on the veranda/verandah (I can never decide whether it looks better with or without the 'h', either is correct. What do you think?) having a rather late lunch and writing to Mr H. on red paper.   I am finishing up a multi-coloured writing block from Paperchase (a treasure trove of stationery for those of us who have that fetish) but I have used all my favourite colours. It definitely affects the mood of the letter depending on the colour of the paper; there were two lovely ones, pale-ish blue and pastel turquoise, which always felt very relaxing. The red, bright yellow, blue and bright green definitely aren't.

I now need to do some studying and start my first assignment, so have moved inside because I can't concentrate with the glare from the computer screen. It feels so wrong sitting inside on such a beautiful day; yesterday I spent a lot of time outside reading about ETHICS, which is the part of psychology that makes you wonder how any research is ever done.

On the subject of colour, here is my very stylish Paperchase pencil case which gives me pleasure (an absolute requirement of degree study).

I have told my office that I won't work beyond 3pm each day; this is my way of regulating my work and getting me off the rollercoaster of energy/tiredness I was on during the last couple of weeks. That's work work; study work is extra.  

Now I just need to set myself an alarm for 3pm, and stick to it!

Bio-Oil - wonder stuff?

When I first came home from hospital my mother bought me some Bio-Oil, which I'd never heard of but is supposed to be good for scars, stretch marks, aging skin (don't all rush at once!), and other stuff like it says on the box.

I started using it, although usually forgot to put it on the scars the requisite twice a day; I didn't know whether it made any difference or not, but it felt nice to put on (smooth and comforting) and smelled nice.   My scars healed nicely and have faded substantially but I had no idea whether they would have done anyway, or whether the Bio-Oil had helped.

Until I saw a friend last week who had had the same operation as me, but 6 years ago.  He showed me his scar (well, only a bit of it, we're not that good friends), and it looked more recent than mine.. red and much more angry.  Maybe I have laid-back, chilled out scars, but still it was noticeably different.  I didn't realise how much until later that day when I was getting undressed and looked at mine, faded almost to a pretty baby pink (aaaahhh).

So, if anyone recommends Bio-Oil to you, use it!   It's not very pricey and the bottle looks as though it will last for about 20 years, although admittedly I'm only using it on small areas and not slathering it over my entire body.... YET.

Dirty tricks

Someone played a dirty trick on me this morning.  There I was congratulating myself that I could get into my size 12* jeans that I'd brought down from upstairs; then I found that someone had been at the jeans and sewn in a size 14 label!  Bloody cheek.

It can't possibly be anything to do with the fact that I've had no exercise for 3 months and got a taste for Minstrels, can it.

Oh and I can't even blame it on my odd shaped legs, because probably the odd one is actually smaller than the normal one.

(do you like my itsy bitsy, teenie weenie, yellow red polka dot 'bikini'?)

There's no doubt about it, someone has been in my closet changing labels.  Probably the same person who left that sticky stuff on the bedroom floor.

*UK sizing!



Maybe perhaps, if possible

This morning I have a headache, one of those ones that starts down in the base of my skull and works it's way up.  Which is annoying but at least it's Sunday so I haven't got to face the dreaded e-mails. Anyway, nothing a shower and bacon & egg breakfast won't sort out...!

I have no real plans for today, except for a bit of studying when the headache goes, and reading my book. A friend is coming to take Django out, which is good because he's climbing the walls now!  This friend is usually a bit vague as to when she can manage to fit in a dog walk or a visit, as she is so busy at the moment; but I have a definite date for today.

She has instructions for a no-woods walk so nothing catches on Django's stitched bit; the stitches are still in it but they are supposed to be dissolving ones.. but how long do they take to dissolve?  the vet always says 'yes they're dissolving BUT you'd better bring him back in' ie. £££. and I've already sent off the insurance claim. Oh thfltlthflhthflfl or however you type a {raspberry} sound.

Why is it when one mentions money, £££ never looks as effective as $$$?  It's strange, that.

This evening I might have visitors - friends who are maybe going to a wedding down here and if they do then they will probably drop in and see me. They live 250 miles up north so I don't see them very often.  All the mights and maybes and probablies pretty much dominate the vocabulary related to this friend; it used to really wind me up that nothing was ever certain and was highly likely to be cancelled at the last minute; but now I just think "whatever".   Life's Too Short. And anyway it's their loss if they don't see me, right? ;-)

As I need a picture for this post, here is a gratuitous photo, which would fit into Carmi's Branched theme, and also act as a navigation aid for my friend should he and his girlfriend come south.

TP 118 again: Branched

I was feeling a little hard done by that I am pretty much limited to stuff in my house or garden for Thematic Photographic pictures at the moment; I can't just take a trip out to find some cool photos.

Then I realised that so far I've had plenty of material right here, and I should appreciate the things that surround me every day... I think these make into the 'Branched' theme:

Ivy.. something we are not short of in our garden!

Thistles, these are over now for the season but when in bloom they attract large numbers of hive bees, bumblers and other bee-relatives.



IF: Transportation

Illustration Friday's theme this week is 'Transportation'.

While I dropping off to sleep last night I had a vision of being transported away from everything on a magic carpet, up and away from all the things I worry about late at night; everything seems less scary when you are flying high above it...