It is Good Friday tomorrow, which is something to do with Jesus and Creme Eggs. Until this year it has never been a good Friday because I've always had to work it, so I'm particularly excited. Even more so on account of S's mum and dad and nanna gave me three (count 'em, THREE) Easter eggs.
Also, tomorrow is Big Friday because we are going to look at a house in Cookridge. For purchasing purposes, not just because we are nosy. I enjoy looking at houses with S, it is a bit new and exciting and not something I am used to.
I am also going for a run with Clare if it isn't snowing (which it's forecast to be). So secretly I hope we have two foot drifts that mean I can't even get out the door let alone run around Beckett's Park for forty minutes.
Let it snow, let it snow...
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
yahoo? i don't think so
I was sent a lovely email from someone who saw a photograph of mine on Flickr, and was asking permission to use it on a website they're creating to try and stop Leeds City Council from building a car park on Woodhouse Moor. I haven't logged into Flickr for ages so thought I'd have a bit of a Sunday-night trawl through old pics. But Yahoo! have other ideas.
'Forgotten your Yahoo! ID?' - Yep.
'Enter your details' - OK.
'Good news! We found you! We have sent an email with your log-in details to your alternative email address!' - Nice one. Except those log-in details don't work.
'Want a new password?' - Yes please, the one you sent me is gash.
'Enter your details' - OK.
'Fuck that, enter the postcode you provided when you originally registered with Yahoo! ten years ago, when you were a student!' - Fuck off, I can't remember it.
That's basically where I'm at now.
Yahoo! sucks donkey balls.
'Forgotten your Yahoo! ID?' - Yep.
'Enter your details' - OK.
'Good news! We found you! We have sent an email with your log-in details to your alternative email address!' - Nice one. Except those log-in details don't work.
'Want a new password?' - Yes please, the one you sent me is gash.
'Enter your details' - OK.
'Fuck that, enter the postcode you provided when you originally registered with Yahoo! ten years ago, when you were a student!' - Fuck off, I can't remember it.
That's basically where I'm at now.
Yahoo! sucks donkey balls.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
jes, dat is roight
S is playing Settlers 3 and is getting very excited. 'He's just touched my border, but this time, I'm ready. I'm stronger, and I'm faster, and I'm harder'. It's really very cute. I secretly get the same about Sims 2 but I keep it under my hat.
We have somehow accidentally found ourselves watching documentaries and films about people giving birth of late. I'm not sure what to make of it. It started with 'Knocked Up', which we've seen twice now, simply because it's a truly hilarious and moving and genius film. And then we watched 'Juno', which we wanted to watch because the dude from 'Superbad' was in it, and it looked kind of indie and kookie, and it was, but it was also about a teenaged girl falling pregnant and stuff. And then we stumbled upon a 'Dawn...' documentary where she watched women giving birth. Well, I say 'we'. Actually, S was pulling an all-nighter for work purposes and had the TV on in the background, and watched this 'Dawn' thing. Which he told me about the next day, including tips on how to prevent ripping. You 'work' the muscle with your finger, y'see. Anyway, this was repeated a few days later and I watched it. And now, this evening, we have watched 'Pramface Babies' on Channel 4.
It made me feel strange. I know that I am glad S doesn't run from the room screaming and being scared when these things are on TV. I also know that seeing people give birth makes me gip a bit, and also want to cry. It's a strange jumbly ball of feelings. Maybe it's that at twenty-seven I've unconsciously realised that having a, um, bee-ay-bee-why, wouldn't necessarily spell the end of the world. Until now I had always just assumed that should the unplanned happen, I'd have a termination. I hadn't considered the other option. Now it's not so scary.
Which is kind of scary.
We have somehow accidentally found ourselves watching documentaries and films about people giving birth of late. I'm not sure what to make of it. It started with 'Knocked Up', which we've seen twice now, simply because it's a truly hilarious and moving and genius film. And then we watched 'Juno', which we wanted to watch because the dude from 'Superbad' was in it, and it looked kind of indie and kookie, and it was, but it was also about a teenaged girl falling pregnant and stuff. And then we stumbled upon a 'Dawn...' documentary where she watched women giving birth. Well, I say 'we'. Actually, S was pulling an all-nighter for work purposes and had the TV on in the background, and watched this 'Dawn' thing. Which he told me about the next day, including tips on how to prevent ripping. You 'work' the muscle with your finger, y'see. Anyway, this was repeated a few days later and I watched it. And now, this evening, we have watched 'Pramface Babies' on Channel 4.
It made me feel strange. I know that I am glad S doesn't run from the room screaming and being scared when these things are on TV. I also know that seeing people give birth makes me gip a bit, and also want to cry. It's a strange jumbly ball of feelings. Maybe it's that at twenty-seven I've unconsciously realised that having a, um, bee-ay-bee-why, wouldn't necessarily spell the end of the world. Until now I had always just assumed that should the unplanned happen, I'd have a termination. I hadn't considered the other option. Now it's not so scary.
Which is kind of scary.
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