I have a nephew!

Parentals were driving up so I went with, though I sincerely regretted forgetting my music beast. Anyway, baby was born very early this morning, is a little on the small side but generally ok, and I didn't drop him or anything, which is good. He is kind of wrinkled and generally baby-shaped.

Babies are kind of ridiculously small, aren't they?
So, some stuff has happened - not a great deal, but some, still, and anyway.

I signed up to do a craft fair, and then it got postponed to last weekend because of a fire at the venue, and hardly any customers came, and I sold one keyring, which doesn't even cover my bus fare, and I tweaked my knee carrying all my shit home again. But I am giving them another chance and doing their next fair in about a month and if that is crap then I will stop throwing good money after bad.

My bank account is looking a bit unhappy as I have been spending more money than usual lately - with the craft fair, getting in a bunch of stuff to work on, and a few random bits and pieces, and also with yarn, of course. My stash is increasing because whenever I want something for a specific pattern I seem to wind up buying other stuff as well. I have been knitting a variety of baby stuff - oh, hey! reading back I see that I have not actually posted about that.

My sister is pregnant, due in a little over two months. It is the first spawn of the next generation, so it is all rather exciting and as I say, I have been knitting a bunch of stuff. She was down for work last weekend and has quite the bump, and I have just about got past calling it a parasite.

Also I had one of those moments where you think of the perfect retort ten minutes too late, because she made a comment about me going grey - I have a visible sprinkling, which I find quite amusing, especially being the youngest, and with the whole thing about Katie Holmes going grey when she is like five years older than me and not as 'bad' - and what I should have said is that she'll obviously catch up once she has the kid.

Eh. Stuff.

Oh, and Key - where I go to do the furniture stuff - has lost its NHS funding, which is what pays for me and most of the other clients to go there. So that stops at the end of the year, and since there will only be a few folk still going unless they get a training contract or something, there's a decent chance the whole place will close down. Which sucks, because I like it and it's been really good for me, and... yeah.

Also I have a lump on my finger where I scratched it the other day, except I didn't think I broke the skin so I don't know why it has gone lumpy. Hopefully it will go away by itself but if it gets worse I am totally going to the doctor because it would suck if my finger fell off. Not that that's likely, but, well. Better safe than sorry.
Seem to be coming down with a minor plague. Sigh.

Am now doing three days a week at Key. Am a bit worried my dept will run out of things for me to do and I'll get turfed over to put things in folders one day a week, or something. Maybe I will start taking in my own projects on Fridays.

Had dinner with parentals, it was surprisingly painless - I guess it is easier to tolerate the blah-blah-blather when it is not every day.

Next-door-neighbour's loud girlfriend is visiting. She is American - I know this because I can hear her through the walls. And he seems to use some sleep-music, or something - I've heard it a couple of times, just the top notes coming through, which means it's repetitive and irritating and if I'm trying to get to sleep at three a.m. I need to get some white noise going to block it. At first used radio tuned to static, but this site is useful; I like the brown noise best.

I have not been knitting since I finished the bloomers - I am going to pick one of my yarns out of the stash and find something to make with it.

But right now I am going to attempt sleep.
So, Christmas has been and gone. I have been online a fair amount but not talky. Stuff. Sleep patterns non-existent, being around people, etc.

Day was nice; am at sister's house, were five of us (two sisters plus husbands) now other sister and hubby have returned to Aberdeen; I am going home tomorrow. Dad visited unexpectedly on Christmas day, which was good because I sent most of my presents home with him, including the ironing board.

Have taught both sisters basic crochet, and cramped up my hand doing crochet all day, because I'm not that used to it, but I do seem to have developed a smooth motion, and now I have made a hat.

I just started looking at job stuff again ten minutes ago and already I feel like shit. "But what do you really want to do?" asked the woman at the job centre, and I looked at her blankly. What do you mean, 'want'? What do you mean, 'enjoy'?

I would talk to my psychiatrist about it but I now haven't seen him in five weeks, only two of which were my fault. I don't know if I'm supposed to go this week but I'm going to assume not. And he'd just ask how it made me feel, anyway.

Dad came over to nag again, but for once I do not mind, because he brought me a wonderful magical letter which told me a wonderful magical thing: my appeal is allowed! I am to get money! woot!

Also he was surprised that I own tea - I blamed Mim - and then we made the internet work on the better laptop and then we set up wireless, so now I can sit in bed and have quick internets.

Also my blanket fell down off the side of the bed and he put it back the wrong way up, so the sun-face is upside-down, I will have to fix that.

In distinctly less awesome news, the Housing Benefit people called me and told me to get a letter from my doctor since the letter dad sent them (being as he is my landlord) mentioned my 'condition'. And I still have to give them proof of a bunch of things, most of which I have assembled.

Now I am going away to eat a Pot Noodle, followed by chocolate, and possibly drink a celebratory beer. Yayz.
I am at the house, came over yesterday, am totally leaving tomorrow because with every day I spend in the flat - even failing to feed myself properly, lacking internet, having insufficient curtains and street noise and etc and more - even with all that, I am so much more relaxed and contented there than I am here. Even with internet. Not that I don't miss you all when I'm gone, but there are a couple of places in town with free wi-fi if I ever get really twitchy, and I am going to organise it for my flat very soon.

I own so much crap. I mean, so, so much stuff that I don't need, that I don't touch from one year to the next, but I don't throw it out because it might be useful, or, whatever. Ugh. Argh. Etc.
Something hard - explaining to eighteen-year-old step-cousin that depression bears little resemblance to logic, and that I can still feel entirely worthless despite having better exam results than he does.

Is the boy's 21st birthday, hence family party, and havbedrunk a fair amount and also ate a fair amount of chocolate sponge cake, and wound up talking for a while to future-step-sister-in-law and step-cousin-I-think-ish for a while and fssil is older/wiser than me and has experience with depression and various societal shit that goes along so, yeah.

Odd, odd, odd. I only went downstairs to start with because I was hungry, and I felt I should socialise, and then there was some talking and then some board-game-playing and I was drunk enough to talk to people without huge awkward. Ate more cake than actual food; not exactly unprecedented but still.

Nan (who has Alzheimers) had to be reminded that I was Harry's daughter. Keir tried to get Dad to say something nice about my tattoo. Wine is useful. I won the second evening game of Carcassone - afternoon game was Stephen, me, Martin; first was Phil, Andrew, me, Martin, iirc; second I think me, Phil... Martin, Andrew? Andrew, Martin? Do not recall.

Am have drunk several glasses wine/champagne. Also eaten much sugar which is not exactly sobering. Hmmmmmm. Stuff about bartering and religion and... things. shit. I hope I pass out, it is useful, because I often have trouble going to sleep which gives me too much time to think about things I don't want to think about. A lot of the time these are things that I really ought to think about at some point but just prior to sleep is possibly not the point in question.

Um. I do like my gecko. It is a bit obvious and cetera, but I do like it and I am not normal, dammit, so I may as well show it in ways of body mod; because if people are busy looking at the tattoo they might not see the scars. Or the spots, the hair, the fat, etc.
No se, no se, yo quiero... Um. Estoy cansada, but that's for physical exertion. Tengo... Tengo sueƱo. Yawn. Etc.
If they say they will be gone until Saturday, they should damn well STAY GONE until Saturday.

Parentals said Saturday, maybe Friday. Today is Thursday, and they are back, and I am ANNOYED. Partly this is because I have a load of laundry in the tumble dryer which I am not supposed to use and may or may not be able to sneak it out before She notices (though I really hope I do because I am so not up for a bitch-match right now).

Partly this is because I Have Plans, dammit. I was going to wash the pans tonight or tomorrow, I'm going to do stuff at the flat tomorrow, I... agh.

Partly it is because dammit, I was having a Good Day. OK, I stalled about leaving the house, but I went to B&Q and I went and did stuff at the flat and I went to IKEA and only got one more thing than I intended (and also some food but that doesn't count) and... and then I come home and the red car's sitting in the driveway and my good mood goes POOF.

Dammitall anyway.
I just measured myself and it was depressing even though I don't really care about these things. And I already knew I had a big head, I shouldn't be annoyed that I apparently take an XL. (This was what prompted the measuring; I was randomly looking at hats and didn't know what size I would be.) I'm allowed to be annoyed that my latest ebay purchase probably won't fit because I misremembered my waist, though. Meh, bah, etc.

Parentals have buggered off for the week which is quite nice really, except for the part where the flat is so close to done we could probably have finished it this week if they hadn't; also sister was here for a couple of days and we took stuff to the flat and went to Ikea (and I managed not to buy anything! ...this time)

Today I ignored the phone then I got out of bed and took two buses to see psychotherapist-man and found out he had called in sick, which was what the phone call was about. Actually I was quite happy about that because I was not in a talking mood at all, so I went to the flat and did a little cleaning and a little plastering and finally took the horrible doors off the cupboard, which I wanted to do months ago but paternal stopped me for reasons that apparently made sense to him. Then I went to B&Q and did not actually get the paint I went for because it was not on the shelf and of course I could not ask a person, but I did get the other stuff on my list; also I saw a quite cheap big playmat with roads on which I may have to buy instead of a grown-up rug, for the time being at least. I can has style, dammit.

I plan to do stuff tomorrow but it depends on me waking up. Also on the weather. It rained today and I would not have left the house if not for the appointment that I didn't really have. I think that is fair. And if I sleep tomorrow I should wake up the next day. So. Yes.
I just freaked myself out.

As [livejournal.com profile] edithmatilda could tell you, I've been obsessing about cannibalism for a week or so now. It started with a crappy bit of fic in my head, and it has not quite reached book-buying stage, but I have been reading bits and pieces. (Actually, I was reading about serial killers a couple of weeks back - I forget why... no, I was reading wikipedia for QI and there was a link and so on. And I just finished knitting this hat which I saw a while back and thought was awesome. Still have to block it and sew bits, though.) Anyway, I'm fairly comfortable with my weirdness, morbidness, etc.

On the bus today, coming back from getting drugs (god, drugs! I ran out two days ago and yesterday was curled up in bed sweating ridiculously, and I managed to force myself to class but my inner thermostat was fucked, and then I ended up staying up all night so I would get drugs today) I started thinking about a story that starts, "The first time I knowingly ate human flesh..." and so when I got home I had to start writing it.

That's not what freaked me out. One of the other people is essentially my brother-in-law - not that you can tell from what's written, which is only about 400 words, but the one character point he has, yeah, that's where he came from - and I just implied that they later killed and ate him. And my POV character only comments on the loss of his cooking skills. Actually, the whole roast dinner is inspired by the meal we had at their house last weekend. (At the end of that visit, sister commented that I had "hardly said a word," which ties in with last post somewhat; but I was comfortably quiet, for most of it, just didn't really have anything to say, especially since I was already on the cannibal track.)

Anyways! Stuff, me, has been up and down, therapy has been happening and I hate it but that probably means it's working, progress on the flat is slow (but the other day I tidied what was hopefully the last big mess, a pile of dust and ash, and wound up with black snot), also I bought a Logic Puzzles magazine and have been obsessing over that somewhat. Had a 'talk' with parentals at the weekend which may or may not have helped; complained that dad said fuckall and got about two words out of him, that sort of thing.

Also Miriam gave me copies of "Murder Ballads" by Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, which is my latest play-over-and-over-and-over, which probably is not leading to a brain full of sweetness and light, but it's such fun, especially "The Curse of Millhaven".

Anyway, I have achieved, I went out and I have made stuff and I have even written a little for the first time in aaaaaaages, so, go me! and now I shall sleep, if I can.
blah blah blah stuff

Wednesday I managed to miss the bus and have to walk home after jewellery class, that was fun, and there was a whole mental conversation which basically put the parentals in a lose-lose situation, so it was probably a good thing they were in bed by the time I got back.

Saturday and Sunday did stuff at the flat, papering walls mostly (this is annoying because it's really a one-and-a-half-person job, at least the way dad does it, and I end up being the half-person and I still manage to do things wrong).

Also on Saturday had great-aunt-ish over (there's a half-relation in there somewhere, but I'm not sure if it's her generation or the one before) because it was her birthday last week (and I don't know how old she is - eighty-some, I think) and there was talking and ugh.

Monday was supposed to go to the flat again. Stayed in bed instead, did not even get up for tea. Nearly waited to eat until they had gone to bed, but I had to wash anyway so I had a shower and when encountered stepmother just went blank, and she didn't try to talk to me, so that was OK.

Tuesday, saw the psycho again, he totally thinks I have daddy issues. And I was saying how I prefer logic to emotion and I don't like talking or even thinking about emotional issues and he said, "this must be very hard for you then," as if it was some kind of revelation and not something I'd told him at least three times already.

And I went to the shop and got an air mattress and a duvet so I can now sleep at the flat if I so choose. I mean, there's not much else I can do there, but sleep is always good.

Also also I went to the flat and I was wet because of rain so I put my jeans on the radiator (hooray for working heating!) and did some paint stripping in knickers & boots, and managed to hit my knee with the hot-air gun, so I have an interestingly shaped burn.
Parentals are returned. They apparently have a hundred pictures of cherry blossom. I have managed to avoid these so far. I was quite sociable last night. Go me.

Stained glass class is not happening because nobody else signed up. Boo.

Today a man came to the door to ask about one of the cats. See, we have two, Brock and Cruikshanks. Brock is bigger and sometimes bullies his brother. Cruikshanks goes off for days at a time. Now we have found out where. Apparently Cruikshanks has been living at their house a fair amount of the time. They call him Tiger and thought he was a girl cat (well, he has been snipped). I now feel less guilty about going away and leaving him here. Hah.

Going to flat with paternal tomorrow. Hopefully will also do shopping, get stuff to finish bathroom. May just paper walls, though. Dammit I am impatient!
Today I spent over five hours at the flat, painting on goo and stripping off wallpaper and painting on primer and stripping off goo-ed stuff. I am really freaking sore now so I am running myself a bath.

As far as I know parentals are back tomorrow, so I have been tidying some more - I did actually do some tidying earlier on, so there was not a whole lot. And I emptied the tumble-dryer yesterday. But on the way home, about half-way from the bus-stop, I paused, because I had the sudden thought that they might be back, and if they were I didn't want to come back. That's not what home is. Sigh.

I was going to say the only thing I will miss is the cats. But I won't miss the yowling and the puking and the fighting and the pissing and the occasional dead animals. So I won't miss much at all, really.

I know the flat is basically all I'm talking about right now but it's most of what I'm doing right now, so.

Yay, bathtime. My shoulders will thank me.
I just waved off sister and brother-in-law - other sister left a little earlier. They came yesterday and today we did a bunch of stuff at the flat. Including using the horrible chemicals other sister bought for me earlier. So, much progress has been made, and it was quite clean at one point, though after that the melted paint got stripped. Goo.

The cork tiles are no more! I have triumphed!

And I have been fed better than I would have fed myself.

Annnnnnd I sneezed and the tissue was manky from all the dust I'd been breathing in.

And last night we watched Dr Who and I thought it was quite good and watchable.

And I was thinking about washing but I think I will just sleep instead. Sleep good.

ETA, 6 a.m., post-sleepage: Amazon Rank. Blah. I've seen the statement about it being a 'glitch' - seems like a mighty convenient glitch to me.
The parentals ought to be in Japan by now. They left early-early Sunday morning. I was awake then. I have slept quite a lot since, so I am awake at a silly hour today, but I have fed the cats and put the bin out and I plan on going over to the flat and doing stuff.

Oh, right, list-of-stuff-for-flat, yes. Maybe I will go to the shop then come back here then go to the flat. Hm.

I am going to move the piles of crap out of my room and do organising things. Probably.

Also I am going to do all my laundry and use the tumble-dryer out of spite.

So much less tense with them gone. Huh.
I have just about recovered from the weekend, and my sister is now Mrs H. Basically, ate too much, drank too much, read a poem without falling over, played too much Rock Band (seriously, instead of dancing there were games consoles), and drank some more.

blah blah blah about wedding and entire weekend )

Really ought to sleep soon - things to do today. Mm. Finish reading current fic, pack bag for tomorrow, and sleep. Plan.
It was K's house-warming/cooling (they moved in a few months ago and were waiting until they got settled but now they have to move out again) and there was lots of cake and it was good cake and I ate too much and also I drank a bit too much wine but that let me talk to people so ho-hum. And doze in the car on the way back which was good because one of my earphones was caught in the door so I couldn't drown out the world like I did on the way there. And by world obviously I mean parentals.

Hmm. Sleepish? Maybe not. Maybe. Cannot tell.
Saturday was my sister's hen night. We had a meal at a nice little restaurant (I had a Peking pizza - roast duck and plum sauce - yum) that doesn't have a liquor licence, so you bring your own. G brought twelve bottles of wine for tasting, to pick which ones to serve at the wedding. Most of us got rather drunk. I woke up with mysterious bruises, a twisted ankle, and a re-pulled arm muscle. It was an excellent night.

I wore my halter top (see icon), fabulous shoes and an excellent skirt that I bought on Thursday for more money than I planned on spending. I went into M&S for jeans and tights, and came out with jeans, tights, and two skirts (the other one of which I later discovered I was charged for twice, so I intend to go see about that soon).

On Monday I got up, looked outside, said, "oh, it's snowing," and went back to bed. Yesterday was much the same, with, "oh, snow's gone, it's all wet,"; in the evening there was choir, and we started out upstairs (which is colder) because of a meeting, so I was very glad of my four layers of clothing. Today I went to the shop and bought a big pile of sugary crap. And I made paternal go to B&Q to get the last kitchen cabinet, and I asked him about getting a sander (because last week we were sanding by hand, and it was not fun) and he said we already have one. So I pouted at him and we're going to try it once we can do stuff again. Currently there are men doing things to the flat. Things that involve pulling up floors. And putting in steel braces because otherwise there isn't enough support for any of the bathroom fixtures. And stuff.
Did you know that slugs can pull in their horns? I think it's a defence mechanism, so you can't tell which end is the important one, and it just looks like a lump of slime. Pretty cool to watch. I discovered as much when I rescued one from the shower. Again.

Meme, kinda. First line of first post of every month this year. A few started with fragments, so I added the next sentence as well.

I dreamed of killing chickens. *dances* I went to choir, it was fun, we went to the pub after and there were people watching boxing because the guy in the dark shorts was a Paisley lad. I just sat on my bed and it went CRACK! because the slat broke. From last week, I liked the scene with Donna's grandfather and mother both looking at the Doctor and going, "it's you!" MOF. Today I did not get up. I couldn't get to sleep so I stayed up. Gah. Knitting something with six colours means *twelve* ends to weave in. !!! But! I!!! Dammit! I haven't seen an actual person in over two days. So, youtube is awesome. Argh. Bit of a hell-week, and all my own fault, as per usual.

Wasn't that fun?

I have to wrap presents and pack my bag - off to sister's in the morning. Will be glad to be out of here.
Argh. Bit of a hell-week, and all my own fault, as per usual. Started out failing to go to shops, get prescription, or do laundry - damn, am out of clean knickers. Gah. Anyway.

Wednesday was worst - I had an appointment with the psychiatrist, and it was goddamn cold so I didn't want to go out, and was running a bit late. At the bottom of the drive I slipped on ice and fell on my arse (to the left.) Then waited at the bus-stop for a good fifteen minutes before realising that, due to roadworks, the bus was not running along that road. Started down to the main road, and called dad, because he was off to do flat-stuff, and luckily he was in the house, so I went back so he could give me a lift, and carefully walked to the wall at the bottom of the drive, and at the very last icy step, SPLAT on my arse (to the right.) Then half-an-hour early at Dykebar, so wandered a bit - looked at boarded-up old buildings, and saw lots of birds, including a robin, and also a squirrel, which was cool. Then talked to man. Ugh. At one point he asked a seemingly innocuous question which left me crying uncontrollably. Then, of course, I got a lift back from dad and concentrated on doing up the bathroom instead of, I dunno, actually talking to him about anything.

Anyway, Thursday was recovery, but that's when I ran out of drugs, so Friday I was shivering in bed until five o'clock when I realised 'oh shit still have to go get prescription and they won't be open tomorrow' so I went down for tea and babbled a bit, and dad went and picked it up for me, for which I was of course grateful, but, but, argh. And this morning I was ready, I wanted to go, so of course he was looking for things, and stopping off at B&Q, and finally we got to the flat and the chemist on the ground floor and I got my drugs and that was good.

And I put filler in the holes in the walls and then I took the tiles off the top of the fireplace with hammer and chisel which was loud and lots of hitting things and that was good. Though I did hit myself a few times, and also slice a knuckle.

When I turned on 'nando he was not happy with me and wanted to do lots of terribly slow scanning things. The one good thing about the intermittent bollocksing of mine 'puter is that it lets me pick up a book once in a while. My birthday present from G (which I only got a few weeks ago, which is why it's still at the top of the pile) was Doctor Who: The Writer's Tale and she said her friend liked it despite not liking Rusty, and I'm finding the same thing, really. Interesting, to say the least; seeing the development of the Kylie episode, for example.

Also I have learned the alphabet in Braille. Optically, of course. Maybe I should try making dents in paper. Was it Jefferson or one of the other presidents who could read Braille? He could sit in a darkened theater and read. And his hands would stay warm under the blanket.



June 2012

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