Sunday, 18 October 2009
Basically I've been quite busy with my jobs, doing my Valentine jewellery, doing my Halloween costume, seeing J and generally doing things that need doing. Plus my mum has just asked me to make a Christening spoon for my cousins child, which is even more stuff to do that i don't need. And when I'm not doing that, I'm hiding in my room having some nice downtime without having to deal with people. Unfortunately, this is the time my mum thinks is a good time to continually interrupt by telling me to do various things/asking me things/basically ruining the few hours i have to myself. Grrr. So, not felt at all relaxed or in a blogging mood.
I'm still not in a relaxed or blogging mood, so i will continue with a broad, sweeping, generalized statement. I hate people. I keep trying to be a personable person, to keep in mind that everyone is valuable and special in their own way, but time and time again, people prove to me that no, they are not. They are morons.
My friend and I are at our rollerblading rink. While i am waiting for the pleb behind the counter to get my blades, I am stood, only wearing socks, quite close to the wall to keep away from the people wearing blades. All of a sudden, a blade rolls over my foot. Understandably, I cry out in pain to the tune of 'Ow ow ow! That's my foot!!!'. I turn round to see who it was, and i get confronted by an angry chav holding a flailing three year old under the arms, blades going every which way, who promptly has a go at me for shouting at her child, saying it wasn't it's fault it wasn't very good, and i should look at who it was before i start shouting. Er, excuse me, I'm not going to check who has hurt me before i cry out in spontaneous pain as a reflex. Anyway, most people would apologise to me because their child had hurt me, not have a go at me because i yelped because their child hurt me. Fucking Moron.
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
Unfortunately, it was about a foot away from the nest, and a little bit dead. I was gutted. I mean, they managed to create a little baby birdie, incubate it, hatch it, only to boot it out of the nest and let it die. And i feel guilty cuz if i was monitoring them enough, i might have found it and managed to save it and hand rear it if necessary. Booo. Poor little blighter.
I'm keeping a close eye on their one remaining egg, in case that hatches and they treat it similarly, but its been a couple of days since I found that one, and i don't know how long it had been hatched. They are supposed to hatch at the same time, so it's likely that the other is another dud egg.
One day we might get a live baby birdie, when they get their act together!
Sunday, 4 October 2009
Still haven't finished my polishing yet, people. My mops arrived at about 3pm on Wednesday, which meant i got a solid hour of polishing in before i had to get showered an go to J's. And let me tell, you, an hour is hardly worth all the messing about it takes. What kind of crappy postman comes at three?? Managed to get about three hours in on Friday night because instead of going to pub and having a lovely evening with J, he went out with his work mates (can't decide whether I'm grumbly about that or not. My plan is to ignore my indecision til such a time that i forget, thus avoiding the issue altogether). But anyway, my polishing still isn't done because due to the vast amount of soldering i did on each piece, everything is covered in firestain and it takes an age to polish out. The non-silverworkers among you, that probably doesn't make much sense, but trust me, it's a massive ball ache. And I don't even have balls, and it still makes them ache. It's an oxide layer on the surface of the silver that comes from the copper that is in the silver when it is heated up during soldering, and it shows up as a dull grey stain on the silver. Which has to be filed/sanded/polished off. It's tedious and takes forever. Bloody things.
But away with such grump inducing folly! The real important issue is that i have bought the whole of the fourth series of Supernatural on DVD! A-WER-HOO! Cost me about thirty quid, because the money making swines at Warner Bros have split the series into two halves for some reason, and it was 12 quid for the first half and 19 quid for the second half (though in some places it was £22, so a saving of three paaaahnd there), but never the less, it is in the clutches of my dirty little mitts at last! Obviously I'm not going to just watch the last few episodes that i haven't seen, I've started watching the series from the beginning, to get the full moody angsty Dean experience. I've got up to the one where Dean catches the ghost sickness, and is scared of everything, and its perhaps my favourite episode ever. Not only are we treated to the bit where Dean screams like a little girl at a cat in a locker (i nearly laughed my spleen off), but we also get Dean doing the Eye of the Tiger scene at the end. Class. I might watch it twice.
In fact, I think I'm going to get myself a cup of tea, watch a couple more episodes, and then slog through a bit more polishing. Mmmmm Deanio....
Thursday, 1 October 2009
As i wasn't wearing my glasses, all I saw was a fuzzy moving blur, but i KNEW. I whipped my glasses on, and it was sat there, all cocky, next to my bean bag. It then, as if in defiance, ran up my beagbag and out of sight. Little git. I sat transfixed for a while, clutching my spider catching container (larger than a glass, but sturdy and see-through). Eventually, it paraded into sight, and I pounced.
I then had a captured spider, but no way of sliding a piece of card under it because it was on a squashy bean bag. After about half an hour of psyching, I finally succeeded in maneuvering it onto a piece of card. Then it was T'ra to Mr Monster Spider.
But i couldn't sleep after such andencounter, and now I'm utterly knackered. And here we are, back to sleepie time, and I'm petrified.
I hate spiders. They ruin EVERYTHING!!