In which I have too much time on my hands

Tonight my flatmates have much more glamorous things to do, so I'm holding up the watching-tv-alone fort on my own. It's ok, actually; I've got a nice view over the city of Point B, the air is flowing nicely through the flat, and salt and pepper squid in the oven....which I should probably check on.

And now that I've spent fifteen minutes trying to cleanse my eye of the oil/garlic/chilli that spattered with alarming specificity into my eye, I've decided that experimentation in the kitchen is not for me. I wonder if your eyeball can blister...

Anyway. Today I dipped back into some old writing work, and currently am toying with a particular character who seems to be lacking in, well, character. I tend to insert pieces of my own personality into my character, and it seems poor old Lucy displays my boring and safe side. She needs to shake it up a little.

Me: Hey, Lucy. I've been rethinking your character. I don't want you to revert to the stereotypical action girl, but do you think we could try something a little more rounded?

Lucy: You mean, sarcastic and sparkling?

Me: Too 'Elizabeth Bennett'.

Lucy: What about giggly and self-absorbed?

Me: I'm pretty sure that's taken.

Lucy: Can't you try developing a completely ordinary character?

Me: Well, yes, but even ordinary people are more than spectators in their own stories.

Lucy: Rude!

Me: I tell it like it is, babycakes.

Lucy: I hope you're just trying to shock me into new characteristics.

Me: I'll let you know if you start displaying any.

See, now I'm just beating up on a fictional character. This, my friends, is what comes of having too much time on your hands.

Meanwhile, I'm looking for work, in the sense that I spend a lot of time looking at jobs and thinking that I'm never going to get hired to do anything because I'm trained for nothing. Stupid lack of interest in law. So if anyone out there hears of a fabulous position that pays well and comes with compulsory puppy-cuddling, let me know. Maybe I should just go and play with the worms in the garden.

Time for dessert.

In which I'm never moving again ever.

It was somewhere about halfway between point A and point B where my car decided enough was enough.

I'd left the rest stop about ten minutes ago, and happened to glance at the temperature gauge only to discover that it was quite decisively on "high". In fact, it looked as though it would have gone straight past "high" to "I'm dying, I'm dying, oh god the heat" if there had been room on the gauge. Then the accelerator chimed in with a delightful rattle every time I pressed down. Wondering if I could coast the next 100 or so kilometres to point B and deciding this was probably not an option, I did what any young person of the world would do.

I called my Dad.

Long story short, I got onto the friendly roadside assist people, tried not to think about horror movies, and waited for the tow truck, who took me into the nearest town and dropped me and my car-shaped bundle of overheated pieces at the mechanics. Turns out I'd blown a gasket (ok, the CAR had blown a gasket) which was going to cost more than my car was worth to fix. End result, I am now without a car. Poor Dad had to drive the 200-odd kilometres from point A to come rescue me and my car-load of possessions bound for the new digs in point B.

SUCH a smooth transition.

While I'm still without car, and now aware of how gloriously un-fit I am (never, ever move into a building without a lift. EVER), I'm at least moved-in, and apart from the empty boxes in the corner, the fact that I haven't got any clothes hangers, and that most of my books and dvds and tv have not yet arrived, it's a nice clean room, and it is mine. Hurrah!

Decided not to venture out any more today, as it seems uncommonly unfair to expect it. Of course, I'm not sure what I'll do about dinner. The contents of my cupboard include pasta, tinned fruit, sprinkles (left over from when I was giving a lesson on how to make fairy-bread-men) and various other herbs and spices. Also a box of porridge oats. Hmm. This could be the best, or the worst meal ever eaten...

I've got big ideas.

In which I spend a lot of time talking about my dog

Last night I caved and let the dog stay outside. He was there at the back of his kennel looking forlornly out with his great brown eyes. Also it was cold and I was tired, so I let him stay out.

A couple of hours later this was proved to have been rather a colossal mistake, as I awoke to quite a lot of grumpy, incessant and pointless barking. At the back gate. Now my beloved puppy is getting on in years and has limited powers of hearing and sight, so it's quite possible that he was actually barking at the gate. Nevertheless, I was awake, and so to stem the flow of notes from neighbours in the morning, I stomped out to catch the little bugger. Unfortunately the aforementioned lessening of senses in the Little Master prevented him from actually recognising me or my patented stop-your-barking glare, and so instead of trotting guiltily up to admit his wrongdoing, poor little frightened puppy yapped like crazy and ran straight off to the safety of his kennel. Felt rather bad about this so instead of chastising I had to comfort him and carry him inside. Think he was quite glad to be inside after all that.

So you see the quality of these posts has dwindled somewhat following the Oscars. And while fly swatting and doggy anecdotes may amuse one or two (all this depending on there being more than one person reading this post -- unlikely), it ain't gonna pay the rent, so I'll try to have some more interesting adventures. Maybe I'd better go to Paris or something...

I'm moving to another city on Friday and have not exactly finished packing, in the traditional sense of the world. This is fairly indicative of my personality, and starting to concern me a little. The whole move is concerning me, if truth be told. It's not a different country or anything (more's the pity) but still, I think it's going to be more difficult than I first envisioned. Mostly because I'm not the world's biggest fan of this city ("yet", the more optimistic part of me adds), and so it's going to take a bit of work to feel at home. Nothing to do but jump in and try, I suppose. One-two-three go!

It's approaching my bedtime, and the Little Master has just fallen asleep, so it's the perfect time to carry him to his basket in the laundry. Nighty night.

In which I am the fly killer, feared by all!

Yes, it's true. Mid-air fly-swat, people. Mr Miyagi's got nothing on me. Except he did it with chopsticks. I guess.

So this morning I got up at 5am (or, you know, thereabouts) to drive out and watch the balloon festival. Still pretty dark, but the smell of dutch pancakes was in the air, and someone was doing a fairly bad job of radio commentary. Nevermind, balloons! Right?....Right?

WRONG! Stupid prevailing winds. And where's the challenge if you're going to give up over a little breeze? These balloonists need to toughen up, that's what.

Anyway, I have to do it again tomorrow morning. Ugh.

Ah yes, the Oscars. Remember them? I was on the whole quite pleased with it. Thought Hugh Jackman did a pretty good job of entertaining, and while I was thrown by the fact that Jack "How Long Til We Can Cut to Nicholson" Nicholson was nowhere to be seen, I was mollified by Jackman's "home made" opening number. So:

In which we were pleased:
Danny Boyle. Just awesome. He was so excited.
The Slumdog Millionaire kids on the red carpet - they. Are. Fantastic.
Sean Penn winning (let out the biggest gasp at that point) and his acceptance speech.
Tina Fey and Steve Martin's "religion about aliens that they made up".
Kate Winslet's dad whistling to indicate his position in the audience. Awww.
Heath Ledger's win. YES I CRIED. I'm only human.
Two acceptance speeches in particular: Man On Wire, where the guy DID MAGIC ON STAGE (I mean seriously, more of that, please), and the winner for "The House of Little Cubes" ending his speech with "Domo arigato, Mr Roboto". Hell YES.

In which we could have been more pleased:
Not sure I'm loving the "five actors/actresses present the acting nominees one by one". Takes longer than a clips show, for one thing, and for another, I was really looking forward to Robert Downey's clip.
Also the creative camera movement during the In Memoriam segment. Seriously. Now is not the time, guys.

But on the whole, pretty damn good. Ich bin pleased.