Magazine cover of the month (well, after it's rounded the horn by clipper, obviously) just has to go to the German edn of GQ for their cover "The Hiltons." Of course, it sounds so much better in German. Snigger. Snarf..
So where was I before I was so rudely interupted. Oh yes, das bus. Most drivers these days grunt and glare at my early morning frivolity, but every so often I get a new driver who'll have never have seen by big gay blinky before and they'll be slumped over the wheel, heaving in tears when I get on. And my big bright hot pink, acid yellow and lime green flashy light thing is indeed big and gay. Oh so very gay. In fact I think only the golden trews Hugh wore at the Tony awards could be gayer. Just.
Never mind, so long as my lil light makes the bus screech to a halt near my stop, it does its job (it being pitch black when I'm lurking at ze bus stop).
So, anyway, there I was, thinking that this month it'll be a doddle. Sucker! I fall for it every time. By morning tea time I was biting the desk to stop from screaming. By lunchtime I was heaving up in the garden, having just made it through the gate. Oh, not happy me.
So yesterday was hot water bottle day. So is today actually, but I'm in, dealing with an inbox of irate mail because, horrors, I had a day off. Just a sick day, mind, I gave up my two RDOs and anther two day's worth of unpaid overtime. No, that's not good enough. They want more.
Well, tough. They've got everything I have to give. As a result, yesterday was not spent reading, writing or even watching, but just mostly sleeping with occassional breaks for tv viewing, oh, and howling. Lots of howling and screaming at the moon.
I think it was three NY set shows in a row that did it. You see, last month, when I was so sick I got to lie down in the office sick room, it was just me and my cramps in a cold dark room. So I needed something to focus on and I just revisirted that Greek suit of armour in my mind, millimetre by millimetre.
Then the very next day I get tickets to go visit it. I mean, holy smoke. Dream come true, blah blah blah. Only when I get there, I didn't get the opportunity to study it at length again. I shoulda just stood my ground, but I'm so easily bullied. So I didn't. So there I was, in pain again, still sans suit of armour and it was so horrible, the sense of loss so acute, I just screamed and screamed and screamed.
Well, the sense of loss is still there but at least I got the screams out. I don't think I'll ever get over it, though. I am never, ever travelling not-solo, ever.
Anyways, tv not necessarily watched but flickered across ye olde telly nevertheless: Now and Again, Gangster #1, Angel, Buffy, Family Guy, Doctor Who (weirdly topical), Charmed (Rodders!), the Forsythe Saga, Second Sight, Angel (Lin!), Dark Angel.
I did pop out in the yard for a bit. It was grey and misty, which brought out the bright yellow of all the leaves, so it was kind of lovely. My natives have mostly all shrivelled up and died, pikers, but my illrgal and immoral euroshrubs, while all resembling dead sticks in dirt right now, have little itty bitty protobuds so I'm hopeful. Those wee 3cm $3 tublings I bought are now all 6-12cm high. Excitement. Apparently I missed the best of my camelia while I was OS/working, grizzle. I love my camelia. Still, my pink geranium is alive and blooming. Yay, oh hardy plant, child of extreme neglect. Still, what can you do when the only water they get is ex-hot water bottie? We're not allowed to water any more, woe is me, and the little piddle of rain we had last night amidst all the entirely appropriate to my mood thunder and lightning did was upset the bats. Grizzle.
|hellblazer06's bits are best described as her "garnet slot".|