Blister
I have a small, but nonetheless sore, blister on my left thumb. I am not aware of having burned my thumb at any point in the past few days. Where the hell did this blister come from?
Quite Quote
In a fit of boredom Fiona suggests doing a survey, where all the answers must be quotes. I am also bored, and will do this.
Who are you?
“Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth.” – Alan W. Watts.
What do you look like?
“Exuberance is beauty.” – William Blake.
What’s your secret?
“He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. “ – Rafael Sabatini
What do you want to be?
“I never know what I think about something until I read what I’ve written on it.” – William Faulkner
What can you do?
“I think knowing what you cannot do is more important than knowing what you can.” – Lucille Ball
What can’t you do?
“There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.” – John Ashbury
What is love?
“To love another person is to see the face of God. “ – Victor Hugo
What is friendship?
“A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway.” – Jerome Cummings
Are you strong?
“I am a slow walker, but I never walk backwards.” – Abraham Lincoln
What are you afraid of?
“The fear of being wrong is the prime inhibitor of the creative process.” – Jean Bryant
What would you do with a million dollars?
“He who knows he has enough is rich.” – Lao-tzu
What would you tell the one who loves you?
“I love you, not for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.” – Roy Croft
What do you want to do?
“Express thyself, say something loudly” – Nick Cave.
Where do you want to be?
“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.” – Samuel Johnson
Who do you love?
“If I love you, what business is it of yours?” – Goethe
Conviction
“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.” – Yeats The Second Coming. Pretty much my favourite poem. Yes, I do know that there’s more to it than that, but that’s the bit that I like.
Plague
I fear I am coming down with a cold. Time to go home and sleep.
Sell Out
Like I said last week: I want to hate Starbucks. I know they’re evil. But they make gingerbread latte, and I am Weak. I never realised how cheaply I was willing to sell my principles, until now.
80
Well, that was a bloody lovely weekend. Went to Northern Ireland for my Grannie’s 80th birthday celebrations, with the family. We won’t be able to go home for Christmas, because Mum and I are both working, so we had a long weekend away with them instead. Went out with my cousins on Friday night, had a big meal round at my Aunt’s on Saturday, and then Grannie took the lot of us out for a very nice meal on the Sunday. The company was great, and everyone was in good spirits. In a funny way, it was better than a family Christmas, because the celebration was a family one, and a special one, rather than the same holiday that comes round every year, if that makes sense.
Food
Lunch:
Sandwich: Pret A Manger christmas sandwich.
Drink: Starbucks grande mocha with whipped cream
Luxury: Marks and Spencer fugdy chocolate brownie.
Gosh, that was nice. One the one hand, I’m a good little leftie, and am opposed to Evil Chains and the way they put independant stores out of business. On the other, it’s great to be able to know (wherever I am) that Starbucks mocha’s are better than the other chains, but Pret’s food leaves them standing, and that nothing beats an M&S; brownie. And the sad fact is that there’s an independant sandwich/coffee place much nearer work than those three, but the don’t do a sandwich or brownie as nice as the ones I bought, and their coffee just plain stinks.
Checks
Anna’s been finding on-line tests again. It’ll make up for a lack of saying anything on here for a while (or at least, it’ll be some content, which probably isn’t the same thing…) so:
I am More interesting than my blog. Thank god for that.
I am How British Are You? Not a surprise.
I am A fish with a bicycle. Which is fab.
I’m back here in the office, working on the next version of Ninth Art’s code – I’m moving the site over to sexy OO code, now I know how to do it, in order that everything be much, much prettier than it was before. But there’s part of my brain taunting me with the knowledge that I have a bottle of claret back home, and mulling spices…
“The peel of a bell, and that Christmas tree smell, and eyes full of tinsel and fire” – I believe in Father Christmas
I can’t help it. I’m a sap for Christmas. I kvetch and moan about the tendency to start Christmas in November – I don’t believe the holiday season needs to be dragged out so it loses all it’s power, but come the end of the first week of December, I’ve got the Christmas CDs on, and am in a thoroughly festive mood. I would put decorations up, but I’m lazy. I might drape one of my bookshelves in fairy lights, this year, I guess.