pixeldiva

I'm currently a bit bummed.

I'm currently a bit bummed.

I took my first baby step into the world of freelance webdesign, and I've just gone over on my ankle.

I did the site back in January, for a friend who'd just started working on a new project, a daily newspaper in France. I submitted my invoice and waited to be paid... and waited, and waited, and waited... and then two weeks ago, I got an email asking for my bank details so a payment could be arranged, so I waited, and checked my balance... and waited... and checked my balance... and waited.

On Saturday I got a letter from a French firm of accountants saying that the company was in trouble, and that they expected to be able to pay in three months, and not to sue.

So I emailed my friend to find out whether that was something that went out to everyone and it didn't matter because I got paid before that came into effect, or whether that meant I wasn't getting paid.

She emailed me back saying she tried hard, but obviously, they didn't pay the invoice, and that she was really sorry, but as of today, she'd left the company, and that she didn't think I'd ever get paid.

[sigh]

I know it's not her fault, and that she did her best... but I can't help being really disappointed.

Oh yeah, almost forgot -

Oh yeah, almost forgot - you can chalk me up on the list of people who've seen Gladiator. We went yesterdaty afternoon, when the cinema was likely to be quiet and I was able to get in without causing too many problems.

I have to confess though, that before we went, I really didn't fancy seeing it. All the hype didn't grab me at all, in fact, I was seriously considering seeing Final Destination instead.

However, after D throw a really big wobbly strop, I caved and in the end, I was really glad I saw it. A thoroughly impressive film all round.

I definately think that fluffy

I definately think that fluffy battle kitten is the cutest blog name I've come across yet... and the blog itself is kinda cute too...

Yes, I'm a bad, bad

Yes, I'm a bad, bad person... I've shamefully neglected my blog... fear not, the results of my desertion should be available later today, just as soon as I put together a page to show them off.

The creative bug has bitten,

The creative bug has bitten, and bitten hard... so frequent bloggage may well be seriously curtailed over the next couple of days until I get fed up playing with Terragen.

Pics to be posted in due course.

So, yesterday was my once-a-month

So, yesterday was my once-a-month big shopping trip. I managed to talk my sister into pushing me around since D is working now and obviously can't.

First stop was Sainsbury's which I haven't been to in well over a year, and is kinda like Mecca to me... it's the "gourmet" supermarket, and I got all sorts of wonderful stuff... salad dressings, funky mustard, a jar of sweet chilli peppers, feta and gouda cheese, mini and sun dried tomato tortillas, ridiculously calorific trifle... a veritable riot of culinary sensations (can you tell I like food yet?).

After a quick trip back home to dump the groceries, we headed out to the town centre, and after a brief panic actually getting there (we parked at the top of a pretty steep hill, and not that I don't trust my sister or anything, but I refuse to be in a car with her while parking... 'nuff said), realised that today was possibly the dumbest day in which to shop, because it's a bank holiday weekend and the place was heaving with frazzled parents and screaming, sticky children (most of which I wanted to strange, trip up or mow down).

After a brief trip into The Body Shop where I checked out their Ayurveda range, and dithered (for the third month in a row) over whether to try it or not, we headed off towards Spoils, which is a kitchen reject shop, but they always have tons of funky glassware and candles and stuff. I was doing okay, until I came across a basket full of gemstone eggs - mostly onyx but some marble and quartz... I was lost. I got 5... but they're all different, and they're very lovely and look good amongst my bowl of crystals.

Next stop was Ottakars the only "proper" bookshop in the podunk little town I live in. Despite the fact that I would rather shop in Borders, it's out of reach for now, so I have to live with the limited selection that Ottakars have if I want to browse. So it was with surprise and delight that I found they had Love and Happiness which completed my set of "Wishing Spells" books (the other two being Health and Wealth), and brings my collection of Titania Hardie books up to six. I only need to get Titania's Oraqle and Bewitched to complete the collection.

On my way towards the cash desk, I passed the recipe book shelves and grabbed a copy of Juices and Tonics which I'll use for inspiration now I have my all-singing, all-dancing blender of love (and yes, I know that link is from Amazon UK, but it didn't seem to be available on Amazon US).

Of course, that wasn't nearly enough reading material, so from there I headed towards the newsagent and got the most recent issues of Computer Arts, .net magazine and heat. I also got myself a flat wash brush and had to stop myself buying the fantastic set of watercolour paints they had that came in their own wooden case.

By this point, I was starting to lose the will to live, and we decided to head back towards the car, where on the spur of the moment I made my sister take me back into the Body Shop and got the Ayurveda starter kit that I'd been looking at, and feeling quite happy and shopped-out, we headed off on the final leg of the shopping trip - a trip to the hardware store, so I could get some 7 inch lengths of 2", 2.5" and 3" diameter plastic pipe.

Why? I hear you ask?

Well, a few months ago I hit on the idea of making my own soap and bath stuff, and have been slowly collecting ingredients and supplies ever since, and have got to the stage where I have everything else, but the molds (the pipes), but it would seem that my shopping karma had run out, for it was not to be. They only had pipes that were too large or too small, so my search continues.

All in all, a fun, if tiring day... and, miracle of miracles, the ayurveda stuff seemed to work, because I slept from just before midnight to eight am this morning, which is the longest, most normal sleep I've had in weeks, so that was an added bonus.

Veni, Vidi, Visa ... and

Veni, Vidi, Visa

... and now I'm too pooped to tell all... more probably later when my body decides that three hours sleep is quite enough in 36 hours thankyouverymuch.

[yawn]

Jason seems particularly disturbed by

Jason seems particularly disturbed by UK cuisine:

More from the UK (and elsewhere) on the phenomenon (yes, it's a phenomenon, dammit!) of seemingly wrong combinations of food. The chip roll from yesterday's entry is also called a "chip butty" and is apparently quite good...or bad, depending on who you ask. The UK is also responsible for deep-fried steak and kidney pie.

I have only this to say: I live in Scotland - don't make me start talking about haggis, or black pudding... or deep friend haggis and black pudding.

Mwahahahahaha!!!

Oh god... I can't believe I almost forgot that friday night classic - chips and cheese with curry sauce!

Yum!

Oh dear god NOOOOOOO!!!. Be

Oh dear god NOOOOOOO!!!. Be glad, be very, very glad if you aren't in an area where you can receive dotcomedy a cheap, Channel 4 attempt to appear cool, and appeal to yoof cultchyr.

The tickle fetishist two weeks ago was bad enough, but a guy who gets off on being in plaster casts?

I think I'm going to heave.

I swore I wouldn't do

I swore I wouldn't do the interblog conversation thing, but my email is currently hosed and I'm too tired to deal with it right now... but I really hope that Buddy is doing better. I'm such a soft touch when it comes to animals (specifically cats) that are ill or in pain.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he pulls through. I know how worried I always get when either of my two are not well - I'd be inconsolable if anything happened to them.

So, here's to a swift recovery for Buddy... may you live to harrass cat toys for many a year...

I am a happy bunny...

I am a happy bunny... today is payday... today I get to go shopping.

Yay!

More from the weird-ass early

More from the weird-ass early morning tv dept.:

Something I never thought I'd see in my lifetime... a program featuring two gay men on a road trip across the US.

Cookabout with Greg and Max - on Route 66. Groundbreaking teevee at it's best...

I have a weird relationship

I have a weird relationship with food. I've known this for a long time. I also have no real body-clock to speak of. Hence, at 7:55 am I've just finished eating a corn tortilla filled with what was left of last night's chilli, and some grated cheese.

Ooooh yeah...

Well, I finally managed to

Well, I finally managed to get through to the DSS today to ask them for their reason for turning down my claim for Disability Living Allowance.

Apparently, they had been considering me for the higher rate mobility allowance, but the information they got from the doctors report was that I was able to walk 400 metres in eight minutes with only one rest stop, that I had only a slight limp and didn't require to use any aids.

Now, I don't know where they got that from, because that certainly wasn't what the doctor wrote down when he was here. So there's three distinct possibilities:

1. The doctor wrote what was really wrong with me, then went away and wrote a work of fiction.

2. They didn't like what the doctor wrote and fabricated the medical report.

3. They mixed up my report with someone else's.

I don't know what else to think and won't know for sure until I get the copy of the medical report from them. I've also asked for a reconsideration, which is the first stage of an appeal.

I just so don't have the energy for this right now.

Warning: Do not read this

Warning: Do not read this if you're a bit sensitive, or easily distressed by the demise of small animals.

I just got back from a short trip to the supermarket, and as the car pulled up to our house, I noticed a huge crow on the front lawn. Now, when I say huge, I mean HUGE. Possibly the biggest I've ever seen in my life... and at first, I thought it was pulling a worm out of the ground, until my mum pointed out that it wasn't a worm. It was, in fact, a starling. Not a baby one, or a young adult that's too dumb to know better, but a full sized adult starling, and it was pulling it to pieces.

I moved to shoo it away, hoping that it would leave the starling behind, but it didn't, it lifted it up in it's beak and flew off to a nearby roof, much to the distress of about three thousand other starlings who had obviously witnessed the whole scene.

Now, I know all about the food chain, and how creatures have to eat other creatures to survive, but I thought that crows were carrion eaters - i.e. only ate stuff that had been pre-killed for them... I didn't think they were murderers.

Which reminds me of my last encounter with nature in all her ferocity.

I must have been about 10 years old, and we were on holiday at our caravan in the north of Scotland. The caravan site was pretty wild and overrun, and we'd see all kinds of wildlife about the place. There was also a stray cat which had sort of adopted one of the more permanent residents of the site, and he was a beautiful big ginger tom cat called Tiger (for reasons which will become blindingly obvious).

One day, I happened to notice Tiger disappear into the long grass, and decided to follow him. I soon wished I hadn't. He was chasing a field mouse, and I was doing my best to thwart his attempts, because I couldn't bear to see the poor little thing caught. Unfortunately, Tiger was much more practiced at catching than I was at thwarting, and he managed to get a paw out and grab it, at which point I lunged in (with little thought for my own safety - this was only a semi-tame cat) and literally picked him up and threw him as far as I could away from the mouse, and when I saw that it was still moving, I picked it up.

It lay there in my hand, its tiny heart beating so fast, its little ribcage pulsating with all the effort of evading Tiger, and as it looked up at me with it's little bright eyes, I thought I'd managed to save it... until I moved my hand and realised that my hand was a bit warm and wet. Although Tiger hadn't managed to kill it, he'd managed to uh... unzip it (for wont of a better description), and pretty much it's entire insides were resting in the palm of my hand.

Needless to say, the shock and distress killed it, and it died in my hand, but at least I knew that Tiger hadn't quite succeeded.

I suppose it would have been different if he'd actually needed the mouse for food, but he didn't. He was fed twice a day. He was just doing it for sport, which I think was when I realised that life really wasn't fair.

Oh god... I'm in heaven...

Oh god... I'm in heaven... I found a font that was actually drawn by Dave McKean. How cool is that?

It's here - see if you can figure out what the title bars are all about - 'cos I can't.

I really like this site,

I really like this site, and it's got a lot of Dave McKean's work in it, but the teeny tiny pop-up the whole site in one window thing just bugs me.

Aaaaargh.

Now there's no excuse for

Now there's no excuse for not being well-read... at Project Gutenberg there's an incredible e-library of classic works that have passed into public domain.

Incredible.

My cat is a big

My cat is a big fat hairy pain in the ass.

He gets bored and loney during the wee small hours, and at even the smallest hint of someone still awake, will throw himself as high up the door as he can manage, sliding down and catching the door handle and using his momentum as many times as it takes to just nudge the door forward enough for it not to be shut.

Then he pushes his way in by headbutting the bottom part of the door, and marches in, tail flying high behind him, demanding loudly that he be loved and snuggled. Which is usually fine, but when D is sleeping, and has to be up in just over three hours, it doesn't make him so popular.

Then there's his flame fetish. He's fascinated by fire. I have to watch him like a hawk if I have candles burning, because otherwise he wants to go up and touch and sniff them.

Old joke:

How do you make a cat go woof?

Set fire to it's tail.

Go quick: there's the most

Go quick: there's the most incredible sunset in progress in Sedona, Arizona.

I think this is why I love the web. Watching an amazing sunset happening halfway around the world... wonderful.

Oh my goth (sorry, couldn't

Oh my goth (sorry, couldn't resist), how utterly gaf - The Goth Quote Generator.

Well, I finally bit the

Well, I finally bit the bullet and joined (and got moved into) the webloggers webring @ jish.nu, and got my first visitor from there.

Woo-hoo.

[sits back and waits for site traffic to not change very dramatically at all, actually]

Today was a very big

Today was a very big day for me.

Today, I stopped being a big old wuss, and finally tried a permanent hair dye instead of these wash out after 20-odd washes semi-perm things.

I've been using the semi-perm things because they're not quite so bright, meaning that I could dye my hair and in ordinary light it wouldn't look too different, just a little darker maybe, but when the sun, or direct light hit it, it'd light up whatever plum, burgundy or red shade I'd dyed it that particular time.

It worked quite well too... and didn't get me in too much hot water with my employers... most of the time, I'd go most of the day with just the "girls" noticing and remaking on the change, but then I either got bolder with the colour, or the guys I work with got more aware.

The average conversation goes:

Him: (peering at the top of my head and frowning) Uhhh... have you, uh.. dyed your hair or something?

Me: Yeah, actually, I have.

Him: (searching for the right words) Uh.. it's very... goth.

Me: You really think so?

Lather, rinse, repeat.

But no matter what I did, the colour wasn't bright enough for me. No matter whether I left the stuff on for longer or bought one that was supposed to have peroxide in it. Nothing was working, so, when I looked in the mirror and saw the blah-hair and decided it was time for another dye-job, this time, I saw myself in Féria. Chocolate Cherry Féria. Yum.

So tonight was the night. I put on my bathrobe, found an old paper, grabbed the kitchen timer, the Féria box and a couple of magazines and retreated to the bathroom.

Opened the box and checked the contents - fairly usual stuff. Bottle of dye that screws into bottle of developer with snap-off nozzle top which always always disappears, never to be seen again, bottle of conditioner, and instructions with the plastic gloves stuck to them.

Ahh yes... the gloves. Aren't these the most utterly useless things? First of all, because you've dampened your hair, your hands will always be moist, no matter what you do, and even with the gloves full of talcum powder, they will stick to your hands, because for some completely unknown reason, they make the bit where the fingers join the palm narrower than the rest of the fingers. What lunatic thought this one up? Hrm?

Next, once you've got them as far on your hands as you dare, hoping like hell you haven't burst them anywhere, you slot the dye bottle into the developer bottle and hope you don't get one of the flappy fingertip bits stuck and torn when you're doing that final "click" bit where you burst the seal. Give it a bit of a shake around, pop the top off the nozzle and it departs for parts unknown. So far, not so different from the semi-perm stuff.

Then I put the stuff on my head... and oh DEAR GOD what's that SMELL. My eyes are watering, my nose hairs feel like they're being fried, and I'm having visions of all my hair falling out and leaving my scalp a mass of icky running blisters. I hastily move and try and look in the mirror to see what I'm doing without getting this stuff all over the bathroom and cause my mum to have a hairy canary again.

Fighting back the impulse to spew in the sink, and vaguely disturbed by my head smelling like the cat just pissed on it, I apply the rest of the stuff, with (by my standards) moderate mess. Let's just say, I'm glad I wore the white bathrobe and I hope like hell that Ace Bleach stuff works the way they advertise.

I finally pull all my hair up on top of my head, reach for the facecloth and remove as much dye as I can from my ears, neck and hairline, in what I know will be an ultimately futile attempt to avoid looking like I've boiled my head, remove the gloves and finally, settle down to read this month's SFX and .net magazine.

Half an hour later, my back is killing me and I have a crick in my neck from trying to keep my head at an angle where I read without all the hair that's currently perched precariously on the top of my head falling down and staining my face in odd places, and I get up and attempt to put the gloves back on. Except of course, not only are they wet, but somehow (and feel free to please explain this to me) they're now leaking in at least four places, and I have to try hard to resist the urge to try and wash the dye off without them (don't do it, it's not big or clever, or, for that matter, wash-off-able for weeks, no matter how much you scrub).

I turn on the shower and get down to the pantomime that is washing the damn stuff off.

My bathtub looks like "Psycho - the other side of the curtain" and my legs are starting to go numb from leaning over the bath at such an odd angle (tip #2 - don't stand under the water unless you want your back and legs go the way of your gloveless hands), and after what feels like a month and a half, the water starts to run clear. Time to apply the conditioner, the consistency of which reminds me of something very different indeed. Ahem. Another age under the shower head, and I give up trying to wash off all the conditioner and wrap my hair in a (bleachable) towel and survey the damage.

After wiping everything I can see, and hoping like hell my mum doesn't notice that I got some dye on the windowsill and it's now a fetching shade of burgundy, I beat a hasty retreat back to my room to dry my hair and survey the results.

... and now it's dry, I can definately say that I like it... instead of being my usual auburny-brown shade I have lovely dark cherry hair... just imagine that cherry goo you get in the middle of Black Forest Gateaux and you're almost there.

Yup, I definately see myself in Féria - although it's just as well that it's permanent, because I don't see myself making my head smell like cat piss on a bi-monthly basis.

Being a chronic insomniac is

Being a chronic insomniac is weird for a number of reasons, not least the array of weird-ass TV you can find yourself hypnotised by in that twilight-zone state where you're desperate to sleep and no matter what you do, you can't bore yourself enough to sleep.

Hence, I found myself watching two programs on painting this morning.

The first program had a production date of 1993, but all the production values of pre-decimalisation 1970-something. Not that it wasn't eductional, but the presenter didn't so much have a hair style, as a hair-motorcycle-helmet. I was transfixed... and the slightly whispered delivery was almost hypnotic... I just couldn't tear myself away from it.

I could feel myself gently swaying, before I was rescused by the end of the program and all the crappy adverts.

Then the next program came on, and it was another painting program, this time by a guy that was so oirish I kept expecting him to break out and start singing the "Lucky Charms" song. It was incredible. Don't get me wrong, I'm not slagging off Irish accents - being Scottish I can hardly throw stones... and I actually like Irish accents - southern ones at least. I can't stand northern irish accents, but that's only because of personal baggage.

So between the helmet-haired guy with the whispered voice, and the lilting charms of the irish guy... I managed to get to sleep... at 10 am.

Bliss.

So many wallpapers, so few

So many wallpapers, so few monitors... aaargh... the wallpapers are so wicked cool at Desktop Imperium that I just can't make up my mind.

What's a girl to do?

Next stop on the inspiration

Next stop on the inspiration trail... t h e r m o f i s h.

Truly beautiful... I think this one is gonna have to be absorbed in small pieces... like a beautifully rich chocolate fudge cake.

Yum.

I promised myself that I

I promised myself that I would not jump into the middle of any of the various spats, whinges or general bitchiness that seems to be so prevalent in the weblogging community lately, but despite my best efforts, I just have to comment.

It strikes me that if all the people who feel the need to bitch, whine and generally stomp on other people put that effort into actually weblogging - looking for new and interesting sites, finding things worth talking about, anything but whining, then perhaps it wouldn't feel like once you've read one blog, you've read them all.

It's unpleasant, it's depressing, and frankly, it's fucking boring after a while. Anything unpleasant always gets boring - no one wants to be subjected to that much negativity. Trust me, I have years of personal experience in this subject.

I also promised myself that I wouldn't talk about the other side of my life here, but what the hell.

I've been ill a lot of my life. I'm ill right now. I can't work and that is frustrating to me. It was suggested that I start to keep a diary to try and exorcise some of the frustration and pain that would otherwise push me down the path towards depression, but thanks to the uniqueness of my condition, writing for great lengths of time is generally painful, not to mention ultimately illegible. So I decided to do it online, since typing is much easier on me... and I thought it over for a long time before I took a deep breath and filled out the new blog form.

I didn't get much further before I realised that despite my attempts to keep it low profile until I could figure out what I wanted to do with it, I'd been noticed, and that the old adage "if you build it, they will come" had come true faster than I could have imagined.

That's when I decided to split the journal in half. So I have one side for all the shitty stuff that gets me down, the times when I just want to put my head down and cry, and where I can vent six days til Sunday if I want and here's the kicker no-one has to read it if they don't want to... and I have this place, where I can write what I want, be me and not have my disability defining me as it inevitably does when I try and live my life.

Sure, I have a sucky life just now, but that's not the be-all and end-all of my life, and that's what this place is for. I'm pretty limited in what I can do in any one day, and I spend a goodly amount of time on the web. I sometimes come across things that truly inspire me, or make me laugh, or whatever. If my boyfriend is around I'll mention it to him, and we'll discuss it, or whatever. This blog is just an extension of that. It's me turning round in my chair and pointing out something interesting.

It's not fucking rocket science, it's weblogging, and it's got great potential, but if it starts getting too inbred, it runs the risk of mutating into something truly gruesome, and that'd be a real crime.

So yeah, I'm all for non-negative blogging... if you can't say something nice about a person, don't fucking say it at all. It's crappy, and just shows you up to be little more than a petty child screaming in the sandbox.

P.S. No, I'm not talking about anybody in particular.

P.P.S. How's this for a radical idea - just link to sites that you actually like, not because you see everyone else linking to them, or you want to be popular, it never works. Cut the cord, be an individual. Baaaa is bad.

... and one final comment. I don't actually give a shit if you think I'm a cheeky upstart and have no right to comment. I'm not in this for the popularity points... and I've got thicker skin than you think.

I'm not quite sure who

I'm not quite sure who Bureaucratic Nightmare belongs to, but it's strangely odd to read a blog that's about Scottish Politics.

I think I may have found the only other Scottish weblog.... but feel free to prove me wrong.

Dear British Telecom Technical Support,

Dear British Telecom Technical Support,

Thank you for taking 72 hours instead of the promised 24-48 to get back to me about the problems I've been having with data calls on my phone line.

Thank you for leaving a completely unhelpful message on my call minder service, telling me to do all the usual and completely obvious things to do to help improve line quality that I've had in effect since I first got this line back in 1997.

Last but not least, you are a bunch of big fat snowman liars, because my line is not testing "ok", and I don't care whether you've turned the gain up as high as it will go, because since approximately 2 am this morning, while I was working very hard redesigning a site, I was disconnected more than 15 times and the very helpful diagnostic information that my modem gives me informed me it was due to "poor line quality".

Please, do remove your collective head from inside your collective ass and actually investigate problems when they are reported and don't assume that everyone who calls in is a feeble-minded computer illiterate moron.

Yours sincerely,

A

Ooooh, not only have I

Ooooh, not only have I redesigned, but ElectricBiscuit has too, and it's pretty funky.

It's nearly 9:30 am and

It's nearly 9:30 am and I haven't slept all night... but the redesign is finished.

Typically, this isn't the redesign I was working on during the week, but one that came to me at about 2 am this morning, so seven and a half hours from concept to execution isn't bad, given it's taken me months to get this far.

Of course, if it's doing anything funky that it shouldn't be, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Even better, the archives are now linked, so you can read all the way back to the start if you're so moved.

I'm paddling in a sea

I'm paddling in a sea of fantastic designs courtesy of linkdup in the hopes that some of the talent on display will rub off on me...

Yeah, I know... fat chance.. [g]

I'd forgotten how much I

I'd forgotten how much I love e n e r i d o t n e t

Such a beautiful site... and although I normally can't be bothered with flash sites, this is so very worth it.

According to the Envision Yourself

According to the Envision Yourself . . . test from Emode:

The desert represents all of the hardships in your life. Those times when things are not just not running smoothly. The order in which you left the animals behind represents the way you prioritize the major things in your life during these tough situations.

According to traditional Japanese beliefs, the animals represent:

1. Monkey = Your Children

2. Sheep = Friendship

3. Lion = Pride

4. Horse = Your Passion

5. Cow = Basic Needs

Which is kind of interesting, because children are absolutely not in my life plan.

TypeLogic has pretty in depth

TypeLogic has pretty in depth profiles if you're curious about personality types, and Dolphin Cove is the home of the iNFj mailing list, and has loads of great info. I used to be on this list, and it's pretty good.

From Ariel at ElectricBiscuit: Wow...So

From Ariel at ElectricBiscuit:

Wow...So I'm still an iNFj, which means I am the Counselor Idealist type. According to the description little more than 2 percent of people are this type. How special and unique for me.

What are the odds? I'm an iNFj too... and I've redone the test at least three or four times over the last two years because I wasn't that convinced, but every time it's come up with the same thing.

The one problem with being

The one problem with being a raging insomniac is that I consider my days to be the time between I wake up and go to sleep again... and most of the time I find myself still awake at 4 am writing about something that happened that day, except it's not that day any more, it's now yesterday.

So anyway, screw it, I'm about to write about Thursday, which at the moment, is yesterday to me, okay?

So, I wrote about it being strange D going to work every day, since he was starting his first job at about 9 ish on Thursday morning, then I disconnected and lay down on the bed pondering the emptiness of the room now it was only me in it... and quickly got bored of pondering, and decided to read one of the many magazines that inhabit a crate next to my bed.

The next thing I know, I'm woken with a start, because my gran is in my room, telling me to get off the internet because D has been trying to get through. Confused, I stumble sleepily over to the PC to discover it is in fact, connected.

Side story - I have two phone lines, a BT line which I only use for the modem, and a cable line I got with my cable tv which is where anyone I want to call can call. Currently, my BT line sucks all ass and drops my connection like a hot penny usually every 2-10 minutes, depending on how it feels, so I've taken to plugging the modem into the cable line out of sheer frustration. The problem with this is is obvious. People can't get through, and I have to remember to plug the phone back in instead of the modem, because although I have a splitter plug, it doesn't seem to like to work 8 out 10 times. Hum.

So, I'm confused as to how it's connected when I'm sure I disconnected, but rapidly disconnect and plug the phone back into the socket and wait for D to call again.

I don't have to wait long, I pick it up to find a very irate D loudly berating me for being online while he's been trying to phone, and valiantly try to explain that it's not my fault. He calms down slightly, but it's very clear that something isn't right.

I ask him where he's calling from and he says a pay phone. Ack. Alarm bells go off in my head, rising to a deafening roar when he explains that the job he was supposed to start that morning wasn't actually a job.

Now completely wide awake, I demand an explanation.

Apparently, Agency 1 (there is a reason for the numbering) are even more incompetent than we ever thought, and after five months (yes, that's FIVE months) they had managed to get D a temporary job that didn't exist.

The HR woman at the company was very nice about it, and assured him that he would get first pick of any suitable temporary vacancies that would arise in the future, and asked what other skills he had in case any permanent positions came up. She also suggested that he go to Agency 2 and register with them, because not only were they a good agency, but the agency that they place all their permanent vacancies with, and at that, he left.

On returning to Agency 1, one of their staff had obviously just been phoned by the HR woman at the company, and was already on the defensive as he walked through the door and asked to see the temoraries controller (the one who'd told him to go to the company) and was told that she wasn't actually in at the moment. He then asked to see the branch manager, and was told that she wasn't in either, and that he would have to come back in after 2 pm, because the reason they weren't in this morning was that they had an open day on from 2 til 8 pm.

He then went up to Agency 2 and was getting a bit of a bum steer until he explained what had happened with Agency 1 at which point they were all smiles (I've worked in an employment agency, and there's nothing they like better than hearing about how another agency fucked up) so he filled out the forms and got himself registered.

Looking at his watch, he realised that he could still make the appointment he had previously made at Agency 3 last week, and had been intending to blow off because he now had a job, and was phoning me because he couldn't remember any of the details, and wanted to know that if necessary, could I email a copy of his CV to the agency if they needed one. I said yes, gave him the relevant info, and hung up, my insides crawling at the thought of how he would be feeling, given this was supposed to be his first day at work, and it all went wrong, not to mention how depressed at it having taken so long to get a job at all since leaving college.

About an hour later he phoned back saying that all had gone well at Agency 3 and how horrified he'd been to overhear another candidate explaining that she couldn't do the typing test because her boyfriend had broken two of her fingers the night before.

He explained a bit more about what happened, then rang off to go get some lunch and go back to Agency 1 and kick some ass over what happened.

A couple of hours later, I got a phone call to go pick him up at the station (the 3pm posting), and when we got back the phone was ringing. He bolted up the stairs, and got to it, just as they rung off, and was about to dial 14713 and call back when it rang again.

It was Agency 3, saying that they had a job for him if he could start tomorrow (Friday), after getting all the necessary details, we sat down and laughed over the fact that it took Agency 1 five months to place him in a temporary position, and Agency 3 four hours.

After getting all the details, I log on and check my email, to find an urgent message from a friend I did a website for back in January, and has almost given up on getting paid for, telling me that she needed my bank details urgently to arrange a wire transfer of the money. I emit small startled noises, and then burst out laughing at the fact that I've been waiting five months to get paid and how much of a coincidence it is that I get the email today, when everything seemed to be going so wrong earlier in the day.

I quickly dash off an email to her, and sit there somewhat confused at the turn of events. It's like this morning was the "point of maximum dread" and now I'm building up to the happy ending of the movie.

Time for some more background.

I first got online in June 1995 when I joined Compuserve on my first computer, a 486 with my first modem, a 2400 baud thing my dad had got for £5 on a whim.

I was there for a couple of years, and in that time, I became a section leader in the Mysteries Forum. The Mysteries Forum had a sister forum called Encounters. I don't think I really have to explain what kind of content they had.

One of the other SL's from M decided at one point to do a little matchmaking between me and one of the E SL's, who went by the name of Wolf, and inveigled an online meeting. We ended up talking for eight hours. I stayed up all night. It was incredible. We just connected. Of course, we strung her along for a while, pretending we hated each others guts and such like. We became friends and talked more and more, and I told him about my frustrations at work, where I was at the time a receptionist, and how I was desperate to do something more technical. At the time, I was attempting to build myself a new PC because my 486 had turned out not to be upgradeable after all, and I was having major problems getting it to work... I just didn't know what was wrong, and was getting very depressed at my apparent lack of ability given this was what I wanted to have a career in. He was unbelievably helpful, and although I'll never really understand why anyone would be so generous, he sent me a motherboard, a P100 chip, two network cards and cabling, and a copy of Netware, complete with manual so I could network my two machines and learn networking. Stuff he said he had "lying around".

Given how broke I was at the time, I could never have afforded to buy what he sent, and it was purely because he sent those items that I was able to build my machine and completed it in early January 1997. It ran without problem until August last year when another friend of mine decided to upgrade his machine and gave me his motherboard and P233 chip since his kids (4 and 7) both had Pentium PC's, and the components were less than a year old and he didn't want to throw them out, but the network cards are still in use today, and without the original components that Wolf sent, I would never be writing this, nor would I have done any of the other artwork or webstuff I've done.

I literally owe it all to him, and because of his generosity, I've never thrown out a functioning piece of hardware. It's all stored up in the off chance it could be useful to someone else, and in this vein, my original 486 has taken up precious space in my room and generally got in the way over the last three years, until a couple of weeks ago, when I finally got round to resurrecting it for an artist friend of my mother. She's asked me to do a website for her, but needs a PC to view it and email and suchlike. She actually has a PC, but it's a horrible beast of a 486 Compaq that's been hacked to bits and has about 2 mb free on a 120mb hard disk (!!), so I gladly said I'd give her the 486 and set it all up for her so she can access the web and use word.

In the course of this, I put back the original hardware and it booted up perfectly first time, and I was sitting there with a machine exactly as I'd left it when I turned it off for the last time in early 1997.

It was then that I went back through the files to remove anything I wanted to keep, and had a good old wander down memory lane going through all the old emails, and that's when If found the emails that had gone back and forth between Wolf and I, and I realised that he was one of the few very good friends I made on Compuserve that I had lost touch with.

So, when I got the 486 reformatted, Win95 reinstalled and everything sorted and oganised, I went back to my desk and fired up google, with the faint hope that I'd find him.

I found one site that looked possible, and fired it up, looking for any clue that it was the same person. The city and state were the same, and it wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine him as webmaster, so I took a deep breath and sent off an email asking if it was.

I checked my email compulsively over the next couple of days, and when I didn't get a reply, I assumed that either I was wrong, or that he didn't want to be found.

So you can imagine my surprise to go back to my machine, check my email again, and find a reply from him, and what's more, he remembered me!

On top of the D having-a-job-then-not-then-getting-another and the email about being paid for the webwork I did, this was just adding up to one too many things to happen in one day.

So in closing, I emailed him back, and even if he doesn't reply (and I really hope he does), I hope he reads this and knows how much he changed the direction my life has gone in, and how much I appreciate it.

Oh, and D started his new job this morning, and with any luck, the wire transfer will be in my account by Monday so I can go buy some new stuff to upgrade both mine an D's machines so that he can get back to doing the 3d and film stuff he went to college to try and get a job in, and I can build up a business, or at least, a decent portfolio so that I can get a job doing web design for a living (don't laugh now) instead of facing an unknown future in admin when I'm allowed to go back to work.

... and thank god that Blogger increased their character limit for posts :)

Wow... I think that Rusted

Wow... I think that Rusted Faith Design may have the most heart-stoppingly beautiful flash interface I've ever seen.

I'm quite simply gobsmacked...

I'm sooo ashamed... I only

I'm sooo ashamed... I only rank second in a Google Search for "weird +scottish".

Note to self: must try harder.

.. and yet the strangeness

.. and yet the strangeness goes on.... I really want to blog this, but right now, I can't even make sense of it enough in my head to figure out what cosmic collision is causing today's madness...

More later, I promise.

When I said earlier that

When I said earlier that today was going to be a strange day, I was apparently making the understatement of the millennium thus far.

What worries me is that it's only 3 pm.... so many hours worth of potential strangeness to go....

Meg has a very cute

Meg has a very cute cat.

I used to have a cat that was very similar, only some bastard ran him over.

[sigh] I miss him.

On taking a side trip

On taking a side trip through jish.nu, I came across the following:

Would you want to know?? Genetic tools to determine your pre-disposition to certain diseases related to genetic abnormalities are available (for cancers, birth defects, mental retardation, coronary disease, autoimmune disease, ...). You might be going in for a pre-natal screen - at the same time, would you want to know that you have a genetic abnormality related to breast cancer? Most tests being developed have a particular documented "disease managment" regime - i.e. there's likely a recommended treatment, lifestyle change or preventive therapy. But, the question still remains, would you want to know before the disease actually manifests?? Please take a moment and flex your brain muscle - imagine the possibilities/implications and also the wondrous advantages ...

I'm totally torn in half by this particular issue.

On the one hand, the thought of what heinous uses this technology could be put to, worry me intensely. I know the possibilities, I've seen Gattaca. I know that no matter what happens, human nature will eventually make that view of the future a reality. Discrimination will be total, meaning that although the technology to fix any problems will be there, those who most need the help won't be able to afford to pay for it.

Oh the other hand....

When I was 11 years old I started to have problems walking. My knees hurt like hell. It took until my 22nd birthday to be told what was wrong with me, and another year after that to be given a final diagnosis, at which point I'd spent 12 years of my life being misdiagnosed, refused treatment, ignored, called a liar, accused of malingering and doing who knows what damage to my body.

I was diagnosed as having Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Type 3. It's a rare genetic disorder. My mum also has EDS, so did my grandfather, and possibly people further up the line than him, but there's no way of telling.

The joy of having EDS is that there is no cure, there's barely even any therapy for it, and there's pretty much close to bugger all known about it. Oh, and even better, it's pretty much invisible.

About three months before I got the final diagnosis at the genetic clinic, I went to my doctor and asked to be sterilised.

I'm 23. This wasn't a decision I'd come to lightly. I've had horrendous periods all my life, and due to my particular body chemistry, I've never been able to find a contraceptive pill that suited me. I was bleeding three weeks out of four, I put on weight, my relationship was dying because between the lack of physical contact and my wild mood swings I was just a disaster... and I know you're probably wondering why we didn't just use condoms... well, I'm allergic to latex too, so that was out.

By this time I'd done enough research to know that what I had was pretty serious, and that the type of EDS I have is what's known as autosomal dominant, which means that I have a 50/50 chance of passing it on to any child I have.

50/50 odds are way too high for me to even think about gambling against. I can't play with the life of a child like that. I would never forgive myself if, just because I wanted a child, I passed this on to a child and put it through the pain and agony I've gone through and will continue to go through until I die.

Then there's the personal risk involved. Right now, I can dislocate my hip twisting in my seat, or rolling over in bed... my chances of carrying a child to full term are pretty grim.

So I went to the hospital to see a sympathetic gynaecologist that my doctor referred me to, and he told me about a new type of contraceptive coil which is more safer and more effective than the usual IUD, and gives me a maximum of five years protection, and is reversable if at any time I decide that I want to try for a child, or if there is an incredible breakthrough in genetic testing which would be able to tell if my child would have EDS.

Right now, I don't want children... I'm not by any manner of means I maternal person, but I don't know how I'll feel in five, or ten years time, and this leaves my options open.

So, I have to say that from a personal standpoint, if this kind of testing had been available to me when I was a child, I could have been so much healthier, and been able to control this so much better because I wouldn't have so much muscle wastage to battle against... and from the point of view of my future, if there was some gene therapy that would remove this from me and make me healthy and enable me to have a full and painfree life, then I'd be first in the queue.

Sadly, because of the rarity of EDS, I suspect that it will be put on the back burner in favour of the major and potentially money-spinning or publicity attracting conditions, and I may never, in my lifetime, even see a gene test that will be able to specifically diagnose this type of EDS.

I guess it's a two edged sword... it all depends whether it's wielded for good or for profit.

Ooooooh.... I like... I like

Ooooooh.... I like... I like a lot... the front page to digital dreamer is great, and the blog is a wonderful riot of purple.

Fab.

Yay. Elise likes me again.

Yay. Elise likes me again.

[Happy Dance]

Today is going to be

Today is going to be a strange day.

D started his first job today. So instead of it being me getting up early in the morning and leaving him sleeping, it was D who left me behind today, although I wasn't exactly in bed sleeping. I haven't slept yet. So far, I've been awake for 21 hours, and I'm not even remotely sleepy... hence the excessive bloggage.

Although, in my defense, I am still working on the design. It's all mocked up, I just need to kick start the brain before I tackle the nested tables.

The Breast Chronicles: "In the

The Breast Chronicles:

"In the shower just now I amused myself by pushing my breasts together and creating a little reservoir in my cleavage. Don't ask me why that amuses me..."

Because it's fun to gather up a big pool of water and then let go and have it all land in a big sploosh on your feet.

Even more fun is showering with your partner of choice, and creating a reservoir against them, or the pair of you, sitting squashed in the bottom of a one person shower stall, letting the water fall on you like rain and pool in all sorts of unusual places.

[sigh]... damn, I miss living in that flat.

Goodnight, Sleepy. [sniff]

Goodnight, Sleepy.

[sniff]

Last for today, but definately

Last for today, but definately not least, is Halcyon.

There are a number of reasons I keep coming back to Halcyon, not least of which he bears a very close resemblance to my best friend Stephen from when I was at school. Basically, if Stephen had stayed in Scotland and grown his hair, instead of going to Ethiopia with the Red Cross and shaving it all off, he could be Halcyon's less flamboyant twin.

All that aside, it's the sheer energy and enthusiasm for life that bring me back time and time again. At a time where I'm incredibly cynical and have precious little energy for anything, I know that a visit to either Cockybastard or Prehensile Tales will cheer me up, because he's quite simply infectious, in the nicest possible way.

Long may it continue.

Not forgetting maganda.org who was

Not forgetting maganda.org who was the first person to notice my baby blog, and said very nice things, and went on holiday so my link was at the top of her page for a week.

Again, that's not why I like her.. I'd been visiting Behold for quite a while, and really love it, so I was chuffed to bits to be noticed by her.

Her site is just so lovely and calming, and never fails to make me stop and remember that the world isn't always a shitty place.

Next up on the day

Next up on the day of favourites is fellow brit Barbelith, who's just so wicked cool it hurts.

I love the colours, I love the design and there's always something there worth reading, and anyone who's unafraid to wade right into the middle of issues and give his point of view gets my immediate respect.

I'm honestly, truly, redesigning right

I'm honestly, truly, redesigning right now... I swear I am.

I'm also in #blogirc, #truespace, and surfing around looking for fonts.

I'm a multitasking maniac!!

More faves: This time it's

More faves: This time it's kottke.org - home of fine hypertext products.

Quite apart from the content, which is always intelligent and well thought out, I just love the way he uses yellow.

At the time I found this site, I was arguing with myself over using yellow for another site I have in development (yep, yet another one) and I wasn't sure that it was possible to use so much yellow on the page and get away with it. Now I know it is, and it can look great.

Other reasons - he has a cam, which is always fun, although I feel like a big old pervert spying on someone, and his silkscreen font is fab.

Aaaargh... I am, once more,

Aaaargh... I am, once more, procrastinating.

Baaad girl... bad.

Favourite quote from St. Elmo's

Favourite quote from St. Elmo's Fire: No diet works. The only way to lose weight in the thighs is amputation.

Never a truer word...

St. Elmo's Fire is on

St. Elmo's Fire is on TV right now.

I have no real idea why, but although I've seen it several hundred times (probably), I've just pissed D off by not letting him change the channel.

Even better, Pretty In Pink is on later this month.

Yup, it's brat pack month.

Oh dear god... the first

Oh dear god... the first sign of impending doom... I've somehow made it into the top ten of the Power Bloggers List.

I think it might suffice to say that I've finally gotten the hang of this frequent blogging thing.

Either that, or I'm spending way too much time blogging and not nearly enough time redesigning...

I followed a link from

I followed a link from The Webmistress and found this guy's artwork.

I'm totally blown away. It's not for everyone, and there are certainly some people who will be v. freaked about it, but it's incredible, and very well done.

Wow. Just... wow.

Oh yeah, and the reason

Oh yeah, and the reason I like harrumph! so much?

She's not only smart, extremely talented and funny, but she's living my life now... or at least, the live I want to live... and since I can't have it, I can at least live it vicariously.

On the subject of girlie

On the subject of girlie drinks... does Southern Comfort and Lemonade count as a girle drink?.

My drinking career has gone as follows:

Age 16: Tried the usual strawberry and peach wine and strong cider, seriously didn't like it.

Age 17: Continued to try beer and wine, usually very slowly, making one drink last a looong time, because that way I didn't make faces and vomit on the floor.

Age 19: Wised up, dumped boyfriend, was finally able to go out to pubs and clubs without fear of broken bones. Experimented with all sorts of drinks. Started with the too obvious Vodka & Diet Coke, moved on to various alco-pop things, took a sidestep through Moscow Mules and wound up with Southern Comfort & Lemonade as my drink of choice.

Age 20: Discovered cocktails. Got the most drunk I've ever been in my life drinking 10 SC & Lemon's during and after a christmas lunch, then finished off with 5 Drambuie's in a row.

Age 22: Discovered Baileys, Peach Schnapps and Aftershock. Yeah.

Age 23: Introduced to the fine art of the Margarita and the Long Island Iced Tea. Also developing a taste for Jack Daniels & Diet Coke (I can't drink fat coke, it makes me gag).

Will drink single malt only when forced to at Hogmanay, in the dark, when I can water a nearby bush with it and pretend I drank it. Sorry John.

Next up is the gaylery.

Next up is the gaylery.

Funky citrus colours, backed up by funky citrus sharp commentary, and the coolest ISP name I've seen.

Yay Gayle!

Pardon me while I take

Pardon me while I take a brief moment away from spreading the love to say that I hope this guy not only burns in hell, but is visited by all manner of plagues and blights.

Ahhh yes... SwallowingTacks. I found

Ahhh yes... SwallowingTacks.

I found Swallowing Tacks when Heather from Harrumph linked to her (more about Harrumph later), and really liked what I read.

Smart, funny, thought and eBay provoking, I find myself going back day after day, and although I liked the old design better, it's still very much worth reading.

Next up: keithbrowndotcom. I first

Next up: keithbrowndotcom.

I first came upon Keith's site when it was the Blogger site of the week, and when I read through all the posts about his daughter Fiona, I ended up nearly in tears.

I'm not a particularly maternal person, I don't go gooey at the site of a baby. I probably never will, but something about this tiny little person's fight to live was incredibly inspirational to me, and now she's on the road to recovery, I find myself coming back day after day because Keith makes me think... and sometimes makes me laugh, and that's a good thing these days when I worry about becoming so cynical that I forget how to laugh.

Ooookay, first up on the

Ooookay, first up on the favourite blogs is:powazek productions.

No, I'm not being a big suck-up, or looking for recognition or any of that, and I'll tell you why.

I've had this URL bookmarked for about a year now, since way before it was a blog, when it was a page with beautiful design that was incredibly inspirational to me when I was struggling to release my inner creativity.

Now it's a blog *and* everything I started visiting for is still there, but the connection is closer because we're treated to insights into the personality behind the incredible design skills, and if nothing else, brings a touch of humanity, and makes me feel like it's possibly for a mere mortal to attain such heights and not become swallowed up by egotism.

I had a lot of

I had a lot of stuff that I wanted to write about, including my fave blogs and why, but some other shit got in the way.

So rather than lump it all into one big post, I'm just gonna add it when I remember it.

I could have died last

I could have died last night.

No, I don't mean in an embarrassment sense, I mean in the real, honest to god, funeral in a few days time, dead sense.

No, I'm not exaggerating either.

I've had allergies to various medications most of my life. Until this year tho, there was nothing life threatening. Now, in the space of four months, I've had two deeply scary incidents that have forced me to reconsider a few things about my life.

On the 27th of January this year I was watching ER and when I rolled over on the bed to grab my drink, a sudden pain shot through my right shoulder and my hand went numb. While I'd been sitting watching, the joint had slipped partially out of place, and when I moved, it tried to go back in, and didn't quite manage it. After a few attempts at putting it back in, I realised that it wasn't going to work, and since my arm was going very cold and numb, I gave in and asked my mum to take me to the hospital.

This was about 10 pm.

At about 3 am after five hours of waiting around, getting x-rays done, waiting some more, being abused by the doctor - help keep my dignity my arse, and then finally pushed and pulled about by him because he couldn't understand why I couldn't hold my arm out at shoulder height for five minutes to get a specific x-ray done, (with the best will in the world, you fucker, if I could have held my arm out at shoulder height I wouldn't have come round to that godforsaken place in the first place, I've got better things to do with my time) I was admitted to the orthopaedic ward. At 3 am. With 41 other patients, none of whom had seen this side of 70 in a while.

About two hours later, after the interminable process of being admitted was completed, the nurse came over to give me a morphine injection to kill the pain and allow me to get a bit of sleep. Fat chance, with the old dear in the bed next to me screaming at the top of her lungs, but I was prepared to try.

As soon as she removed the needle from my left thigh, it started to itch, and burn. It started to feel tight, and it was as though I could feel it flowing down my leg and up towards my hip. It was the strangest feeling, and it was still as itchy as hell. I told myself that I wouldn't scratch it, because that would only make it worse, and I thought it would calm down and that I was just being a big old scaredy cat.

I lay for about 15 minutes, watching the clock and forcing myself to ignore the raging, burning itch.

When finally, I couldn't hold on any more, I put my hand down to my thigh, intending just to rub the area around it with my fingers, to try and ease it, when I realised that my leg felt funny. It felt like it was full of water, and at the same time, all tight at hot, so I moved the covers and looked down, to see a big white lump where the needle had gone in, a bright red rash for about three inches around that, and the whole of my thigh swollen to about twice the size it should be.

After I'd taken a deep breath to stop myself from freaking, I called over a nurse and asked if this was a normal reaction. The speed with which she shot across the ward to grab the head nurse gave me a pretty clear indication that it wasn't.

When the head nurse came over, she looked deeply concerned, and then went to get the doctor who'd admitted me, who luckily was in the ward admitting another patient, who rapidly paled when he saw my leg. The heart monitor was brought over and I was wired up, and told to tell them the instant that I felt any problems breathing. I didn't, but shortly after that, my leg started spasming. It was juddering up and down and I couldn't do anything about it.

The ortho doctor went to get another (medical) doctor, who came to see if she agreed that I was allergic to the morphine. She did, and I was given another injection, this time, of antihistamines, to try and reverse the effects.

It worked, and after a couple of hours, I started to feel better, just in time to be taken into theatre to have my shoulder put back in place under general anaesthetic.

I was lucky that night. I was lucky that the dose they gave me was fairly small. If it had been even 10mg more, I might have been in serious trouble.

Ever since I got the EDS diagnosis, it had been suggested that I get a MedicAlert bracelet, just in case something happened, and they broke me worse while trying to fix me, and I'd been putting it off, because I guess I didn't want to admit to myself that there was something that wrong with me.

When I had the close encounter with the morphine, I reconsidered that decision, and went as far as phoning the medicalert people and getting the forms sent out. I even got my doctor to sign them, but I hadn't actually posted them back.

After last night, I'm partially glad I didn't send them back, and scared enough that they're now completed, sealed in the envelope and stamped, ready to be posted first class tomorrow.

After the morphine scare, I did a bit of checking on what other medications contain morphine, so I could know what to avoid, and also checked with the doctor. He said that he didn't think that the painkillers I was currently taking would be a problem.

I took him at his word, and they weren't a problem in the grand scheme of things, but the side effects were getting me down, so I decided to stop taking them for a month, to try and de-tox my system, and to see if they'd have an effect when I started taking them again.. and I stuck to that. No matter how much pain I was in, I didn't take any medication for it, but last night, I couldn't hold out any more.

I took two painkillers at about 4 am, because I was so desperately tired and sore. I decided to stay up until they kicked in. About 20 minutes later, I suddenly started to tremble... and I felt sick, and faint. I stumbled over to the bed and lay down, waking D up in the process and explaining to him that I didn't feel so good, and that I would probably be okay.

I wasn't. I lay there feeling sick and dizzy and shaking, and then slowly I started to feel really heavy. I was still wide awake and very aware of what was going on, but I couldn't move, or speak. I've had that before, so at first I wasn't too concerned. Until my heart started to pound, and I started to get short of breath.... and then, my throat spasmed and I suddenly couldn't breathe. I panicked, and tried frantically to breathe in through my nose. I don't know why I thought that would help, but I was so scared. I tried to move, or to say something, anything to get D's attention, and let him know that I needed help, but I couldn't. I was trapped in my own head.

I'm not sure exactly how long I lay like that. I would breathe shallowly for a few minutes, and then the throat would close again and I'd panic and try to breathe. I was so scared that the painkillers would make me fall asleep and that I wouldn't wake up and I'd just stop breathing and die, right there in bed next to D.

I heard my parents get up and move around and get ready, I heard them leave so my dad could go to work, I heard people moving about in the street, and still, I couldn't attract any attention or let anyone know that something was wrong.

A few hours later, I don't know how many, I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a truck... but for once, I was glad for the pain, because I knew I was alive.

So it's been a long and scary day, and I still feel shitty, and in time, the implications of losing yet another painkilling medication from the list of what I can take will sink in, but at least I'm alive, and that's the most important thing. I've got too much to live for now.

I've tried hard not to

I've tried hard not to comment on a lot of the spats, rants and general bitchiness that's gone on in the blogging community lately. Sure, I'd love the hits, I just so don't have the energy to deal with any potential backlash in my direction. I've got too much else to deal with, but I really have to comment on the not answering email thing.

Perhaps it's my Scottishness that lowers my expectations, but I rarely expect a reply to anything that I send, so it's always nice surprise when I do get a reply.

If you don't expect anything, you're never disappointed.

Not so long ago I

Not so long ago I was very frustrated because there was so much uncertainty in my life.

Today, half of those four uncertainties aren't uncertain any more.

I now have an appointment for the pain clinic. I'm surprised they managed to fit me in so quickly. My appointment is at 11 am on Friday the 29th of December, 2000.

Today's date is Monday the 15th of May, 2000.

That's seven and a half months away. Seven and a half months where I have to suffer intense and debilitating pain, and the side effects of not only that pain, but of the medication I have to take when the pain is too much and I'm forced to give up whatever distraction I've found, retreat to my bed, and lie there, wishing I were dead, because at least then I wouldn't be in pain. Sleep doesn't even help, because I know when I go to sleep that I'm going to wake up in pain.

I'm 23 years old, and I feel like my life is slipping away from me. There are so many things that I can't do right now, and just as many things that I will never be able to do. Every day, I struggle to try and find the beauty in things, to find some little ray of hope, that somehow, I'll be able to get my life back on track, and I won't wind up spending the rest of my life rotting at home in my bedroom, mostly forgotten and occasionally pitied by the people I used to socialise with.

A large part of that hope was linked to trying to get Disability Living Allowance, so I could perhaps afford an electric wheelchair, so that D and I don't argue so much on the odd occasions where I get out, because he won't push me where I want to go, or he gets tired and doesn't want to push me any more. Perhaps I could get a car, an automatic, with optional hand controls, so that I could get to work, because I can still work. I'm not stupid, I haven't suddenly become unable to hold a sensible conversation. I can still type, although I can't sit in one place for too long or I get sore.

Today I got a letter from the Department of Social Security. A blatantly obvious form letter informing me that they do not consider that I qualify for any assistance whatsoever.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't entirely unexpected. I don't know anyone who has received DLA first time. From people I've spoken to, it seems to take between three and eight years. Years. Not Months. Not Weeks. Not Days. YEARS!

This makes me angry. Damn angry. Who the fuck are they to tell me that I have to suffer for three or more years to prove that I really need money to make my life better. Who the fuck are they to arbitrarily reject my claim and send out a crappy form letter that has so many points that don't apply to my situation or claim whatsoever, and then have such a crappy phone system that they were permanently engaged all afternoon while I was trying to phone to get a copy of the medical report so I can see who wrote me off first.

So here I am, cycling between burning tears at the sheer unfairness of it all, and a burning desire to discover brain transplantation, so that I can force one of these monkeys to experience what it's like to live a day in my body.

I feel like someone just stamped on my fingers, just as I got them over the edge of the pit I've been slowly pulling myself out of, and I'm freefalling right the way back down to the bottom.

I will get back out of this pit, and I might even be stronger for it, but damnit, I'm sick of the hard slog. Why can't I just have a day, a single day where I can live a normal life. Just a day, so I can remember what it feels like not to be in pain. Is that really too much to ask?

Ohmigod... the previous record for

Ohmigod... the previous record for most visits to my blog in one day has been broken. I've had 30 unique visitors today.

Sounds pathetic, but it's given me a much needed boost. Thanks everyone!

Today's first, randomly right-clicked blog

Today's first, randomly right-clicked blog is changing places. A very lovely calming green blog, and someone else that's attended Weight Watchers. I like her already.

Of course, I stopped going to WW (and the other three or four different slimming groups I tried) after two weeks because I wanted to murder the group leader for being so bloody patronising, so I admire anyone that can keep going to a slimming group. WW or anyone else.

Anyway, I'd rather have chocolate cake than ultra thin thighs any day. So there.

Put... the... keyboard... down.... Step

Put... the... keyboard... down....

Step away from the computer... go on... you can do it, it's only two steps to bed....

Must. Stop. Blogging.

Aaaargh.

You Know You've Visited Halcyon's

You Know You've Visited Halcyon's Cam Too Much When: you type www.preh and the entire url for the cam pops up.

I think I need to

I think I need to stop the drivel blogging and maybe get some sleep.... the only problem being that I'm so completely and utterly not sleepy, despite not having actually been to sleep yet.

... and yes, I share

... and yes, I share boob related links with guys. I'm not weird or anything, I just don't have a problem with men appreciating the female form.

Following closely behind the Ferrett

Following closely behind the Ferrett and Prehensile Tales in the league of sites that make me laugh out loud, comes the smack from one of my #trueSpace IRC buddies.

In case that statement blows my image, I did, for a while, attempt to do 3d graphics. I sucked severely (see here for details) and decided to go looking for help.

I found it, and as with the Star Wars section on Compuserve, wound up hanging around being perpetually off-topic because the folks were so great.

Yaaay... I've broken the magic

Yaaay... I've broken the magic 20, and it's still only 7 am.

Is today going to be the record breaker?

Not only is he an

Not only is he an incredibly talented animator, but OpieJuan is a hell of an e-dj.

I haven't bounced and bopped in my chair this much in aaaaaages.

Now all I need is

Now all I need is for folks to send me email and my happiness will be complete.

Oooooh... I'm getting the feeling

Oooooh... I'm getting the feeling that today's gonna be a bumper day in the referrer logs... I've already had 17 visitors and it's only 6:26 am.

I think my highest ever day was 27.

Doesn't take much for me to get excited, really....

I feel her pain. At

I feel her pain.

At the risk of getting toasted, I'm gonna come out in public and say I'm jealous of girls who've got small boobs. I'd much rather be smaller chested than look like a dead heat in a zeppelin race.

I've always had a bit of a strange relationship with my breasts, and lately, it feels like someone sneaks into my room while I'm sleeping and inflates them a bit more. It's ridiculous, I'm 23 and they're still growing? What the hell is up with that??!?

Of course, D is delighted, but most of the time they get in my way and generally make life difficult, and just don't talk to me about bra shopping.

Gah.

I see myself in Féria.

I see myself in Féria.

Coming soon to a perma-stained bathmat near me.

Coming soon to a copy

Coming soon to a copy of winamp near you: pixeldiva e-radio.

Watch this space for details!

I know I said in

I know I said in the previous post that getting linky-love is not why I'm bloggin', but having said that, I'm currently feeling ubsurdly chuffed that Electric Biscuit linked to me, not only in the sidebar (woo-hoo, my first sidebar link since Elise took me down), but mentioned me three times in various posts. How cool is that? Particularly since I'm in some pretty esteemed company on that sidebar.

Thanks much!!!

Which reminds me to say thanks to Palesky, Matthew Rossi and Gayle for linking to me this week.

Elise at SwallowingTacks says: "So

Elise at SwallowingTacks says:

"So how about it, people? Which logs do you read daily? Which logs do you enjoy the most? For ten minutes, forget completely about butt-sharking and inter-blog-linky-love and who might find you as a referrer in his or her stats and share you personal favourites. Tell us what/whom you enjoy. Tell us why."

This started me thinking. I visit a fair few weblogs... I'm a big "right clicker"... sometimes I get bored and I go through various people's list o' links.... but I rarely, if ever, know why they pick this weblog over that weblog. Mostly, I figure it's a combination of a) weblogs they like, b) weblogs they wanna be liked by, c) weblogs that they're linking to because someone linked to them and d) a few added extras so they can get into the list of "who reads the most blogs" on whatever that site that everyone blogged about ages ago was.

Part of the reason it's taken me so long to redesign this place is complete and utter indecision about what to do about links. In a sense, it's easier for me to do the completely bare, no information, no links, no nothing page, because I feel like that way I stay away from all the politics. Part of me wants to be dead popular and on everyone's link page and a member of all the cool cliques, but the rest of me knows that's not really likely. For example, way back when I started this, Elise had a link to me in her sidebar, but it was around the time I was having chronic computer problems and couldn't blog, and I got removed. It was a while before I noticed, and although I was bummed, I didn't feel that there was any way that I could email her and ask to be put back. I just figured that she'd got bored of me and wasn't interested any more. Anyway, becoming a huge web celebrity is not why I'm doing this.

So anyway, I spent over an hour typing out my favourites here, but for some reason, just as I went to post, Blogger barfed and spat out everything I'd just written. Just F-wording typical of my luck today.

I'm too depressed to write it all out again just now, so it'll follow later, I promise.

An ISP, an ISP, my

An ISP, an ISP, my kingdom for an ISP...

This morning's 6 am insomniac blogging was cruelly cut short courtesy of BT Internet who can't seem to hold their wad for more than two mintes at a time, and charged me 50p a minute to tell me they weren't having any problems.

Grrrrrrr...

If anyone can recommend a decent UK ISP (that isn't Lineone, Totalise, Freeserve or Freenetname - been there, done that) then please, let me know. I'm getting desperate, and (whooops, there goes the connection again) more than a little pissed off.

Thank you for listening... :)

I'm too hot, I can't

I'm too hot, I can't sleep and although I really want to work on the design for this place, I'm strangely demotivated. I have all these ideas going round my head but they can't seem to find their way out. It's driving me insane.

So I think what I'm going to do is blog all the stuff I've meant to blog this week and just didn't get around to for one reason or another.

Hold on to your hats, folks!

I know Coolstop found it

I know Coolstop found it first, but I have to say that this is just TOO cool...

After my complete and utter failure to be noticed at all with the 5k I think I'll give this a bash. Can't hurt, and it looks like it'll be a whole heap of fun.

Do I get a prize

Do I get a prize for mentioning Halcyon in every post so far today?

I know everyone and their

I know everyone and their dog has commented on the Webby's but I have to say that I'm really glad that Halcyon won. Not that I'm saying that Jason or Christine didn't deserve to win, especially since Christine said such nice things about me when she came across this very blog in it's infancy, but I think I've been sucked into the Cult of Halcyon lately.

Ahhh... I love the Eurovision

Ahhh... I love the Eurovision Song Contest.

I don't actually watch the part with the songs... like, EVER, but I always tune in for the scoring, because it's the most startling view of European politics you're likely to get.

For example: Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Iceland always give each other the top marks they can, same with the Russian/Communist/Former Communist countries.

This year's winner was Denmark, who lead from the start, with Ireland (who've won it more times than anyone else) coming sixth, the UK waaaay down the field, and France and Belgium bringing up the rear with 5 and 2 points respectively.

Perhaps the funniest part of the evening was flipping over to check the progress of the program and finding them into the intro sequence for Turkey, where they had the bimbette singer checking out Mahir's Page. For a second, I thought that he was going to be on the program, but I doubt he's recovered from his encounter with Halcyon yet.

Too, too funny...

Latest search engine weirdness: a

Latest search engine weirdness: a french search on Google using the search term KRNL386.exe hacking turned my page up at result no 2.

Which isn't so much what bothers me... but why they're looking up how to hack the file.

Hrmmm.

Wow, I've finally found someone

Wow, I've finally found someone else who listens to Dido... and the rest of Nikolai's list of latest listens (heh, try saying that three times fast) are pretty cool too, with the possible exception of the Backstreet and Pet Shop Boys.

Still, six out of eight ain't bad.

I think I got to

I think I got to Matthew Rossi's blog from Barbelith, but I'm not sure. I've read so many blogs tonight that I've lost track...

But anyway, I only managed to read about three of his entries before I got the distinct feeling that this was not an ordinary blog.

Just reading the entries makes me feel like I do when I'm staying with D's parents and friends - hopelessly under-read, and that really takes some doing, because I read pretty much constantly.

I think I'm addicted to

I think I'm addicted to these Emode tests.

Todays test was: What's Your True Color? and the result was:

You're BLUE; the most soothing color in the spectrum. The color of a clear
summer sky, or a deep, reflective ocean. Blue has traditionally symbolized trust, solitude, and loyalty. You are most likely a contemplative person who values time spent alone. When it comes to friends, you would rather connect deeply with a few people than have a bunch of loose acquaintances. You probably have a calming presence that attracts people to you. Cool and collected, you rarely overreact. Instead, you think things through before coming to a decision. Your level-headed and thoughtful approach is patently blue.

I don't know about the attracting people part, but the rest is pretty bang on.

I'm not sure why I like doing these tests so much... maybe I'm hoping to find out something about myself that I can't figure out on my own.

I have two cats. They're

I have two cats. They're both as dumb as dirt.

No, really!

They're not allowed outside unattended because our garden backs on to the garden of a murdering bastard who, years ago murdered not only one of my cats, but a neighbour's cat, and a mother and five kittens who were dumped on the edge of nearby road. He was seen putting meat out in his garden, which was odd because he doesn't have any animals.

Since we got these cats, they've been house animals, unless we take them out in special cat harnesses with leashes... and yes, I know the picture of taking a cat for a walk is amusing.

So today, given that it was a really nice day, D put the harnesses on the cats, and tied the leashes to the washing line, so they could move pretty freely around the garden. Fred, who perhaps should have been named Houdini, and normally spends his life trying to get *out* of the house, pretty quickly decided that he wanted to get back *in* the house. Spike however, decided that he was going to explore the far depths of the garden, that is, until a nearby Robin decided to mock the fact that he was on a leash.

Much to Spike's disgust, this Robin flew low overhead, and hopped all over low branches tweeting loudly at him. Loudly enough that he attracted about 15 starlings who also decided to mock poor Spike, by not only buzzing his ears, but hopping around on the ground, just outside his reach.

After an hour of letting Spike be mocked in this fashion, we decided to take pity on him and brought him in, where he's now in a huff on the windowsill.

I'm still too hot, still

I'm still too hot, still as grumpy, and I still can't be arsed doing anything.

This is ridiculous, I live in Scotland, it's May. We don't get these kind of temperatures, like EVER.

This is about the sixth day in a row where not only has it not rained, but it's been sunny and warm.

Is this global warming, or just a big pain in the ass to those of us who don't actually run around half-naked at the first glimpse of sun?

Lots of lovely stuff in

Lots of lovely stuff in my logs today, including the fact that I've been Googled (without even submitting it to be Googled) and finding that someone did a search on msgsrv32 illegal and in amongst all the tech support pages, result no. 6 is my blog, detailing all the problems I was having when I installed the new monitor.

I can just imagine the confusion that caused.

On a related note, I can understand that a Blogger search on "sex" and "my so-called life" would bring up results that include my blog, but a search for "connie"?

I'm baffled.

I'm too hot, and I'm

I'm too hot, and I'm grumpy and I just can't be arsed with anything.

If another person says something about heat helping my joints I'm just going to have to maim them. I don't have arthritis, or rheumatism, I have hypermobile joints. Temperature is not a factor.

Stop making moronic small talk because you're uncomfortable standing up while I'm in a wheelchair. It's dead obvious, and not at all comforting. Just don't say anything at all. Okay?

It's been unseasonably warm here

It's been unseasonably warm here for the last three days, and it's actually really unpleasant.

It's 3:30 am and it's still too bloody warm to sleep.

Oh, for air conditioning.....

My results on The Sex

My results on The Sex Goddess Test say that I'm Persephone, Goddess of the Night.

Interesting.

True, but interesting ;-)

Somehow, my boyfriend, who says

Somehow, my boyfriend, who says he doesn't read blogs, or do any of that stuff, managed to find this. Which is one of the most beautifully designed blogs I've ever seen.

Of course, having seen this, the half-done design I'd been working on is now leaving the recycle bin...

I'm really trying hard not

I'm really trying hard not to blog the entire Maury show, but I can't help but feel really sorry for the girl with Touretts Syndrome.

She's tall, and blonde, and so pretty, and she's too scared to leave her house because she gets made fun of.

That's a real crime.

I think I'm going to

I think I'm going to vomit.

The Maury Povich Show is on Living, and it's the one where he brings back his ten favourite guests of 1999. Which isn't such a bad thing in itself, except his first two guests are two of the most revoltingly "cute" brats I've ever seen.

The first one is from some TV show I've never seen. Called "Guys Like Us" I think... and he's telling Maury how he only came on the show so that Maury could hook him up with Connie Cheung. You're like, six years old, get a grip.

Then there's an accordian prodigy. Oh, puhleeeease... give me a break.

I generally hate kids. I'm just not a maternal person at all. Don't get me wrong, I'd never actually hurt a child, but I just can't bear to be around them, and the revoltingly cute "I'm a child prodigy" kind just make me want to barf.

Now this is interesting. According

Now this is interesting. According to my Biorhythms for today, I''m at +27% Mentally, 0% Physically, and -75% Emotionally, which means I should basically stay in because there's a greater chance of accident, that I'm thoroughly depressed, and that I'm on the up intellectually.

The scary thing is that it's spot on.

Good thing I was planning to stay in this weekend and finish the new design for this place, huh?

Well, no great surprises from

Well, no great surprises from the visit to the doc.

He's signed me off for another four weeks, and I'm to get measured to apply for an electric wheelchair. Which on one hand is a good thing because it would mean that I wouldn't have to depend on D pushing me, and he won't get to pissed off pushing me, but on the other hand, is another step down the road of admitting to myself that I'm disabled.

I don't feel like I'm disabled. I don't like being referred to as disabled, and I'm really pissed off that to get help with getting around, I have to be made to feel like a second class citizen.

'Attack' Chickens Cause Flap. What

'Attack' Chickens Cause Flap.

What the hell?!?!

I just don't wanna know what's in the water around there...

Of course, the nailvarnish thing

Of course, the nailvarnish thing is only going to lead to other things...

Like hairdye.

If I'm going to be off work for a while more, I may decided to stop fannying around with semi-permanents and just go red. Claire Danes in My So-Called Life red.

I've got my hair *almost* this colour, but because it's dark brownish red naturally, semi-perms just aren't bright enough. I'm gonna have to go for the peroxide first, I guess.

Wish me luck!

I have a doctors appointment

I have a doctors appointment in six hours.

I can't sleep, I hurt, and I feel generally shitty.

I was actually starting to feel like I was getting somewhere... like the wheels were finally moving and maybe I could get back to work later this month.

This week has just been a doozy.

First there was a letter from the DSS on Tuesday. My mum brought it up and woke me so I could read it, and I could feel my heart pounding as I blinked a lot and fumbled open the envelope. It was a letter telling me they couldn't tell me anything because they hadn't made a decision yet.

I really don't understand the point of letters like that. Maybe if the DSS stopped wasting their time sending out useless letters they might actually get around to making decisions and stop dicking around with people's lives.

Then today, it was a really nice day. I mean, really nice. Clear, blue sky, warm sun, balmy breeze. I'm absolutely not an outdoorsy person, but it's the sort of day we don't normally get in this part of the world, so I forced myself to take advantage of it.

I got D to help me manhandle the heavy stuff, and took myself outside to transplant the seedlings I've been growing for the last couple of months into some large outdoor pots I got at the weekend. It was hard work, not to mention painfully slow work, but bit by bit I got them all sorted out and replanted. I actually found, to my surprise, that I was enjoying it. Enjoying being outside in the sun, my bare feet carpeted by the moss under the grass that poked between my toes.

Just as I got to the last tray of seedlings, my gran came to the back door to tell me that the HR Manager from the Office was on the phone. When I picked up the phone, she felt the need to ask to speak to me again, and then to re-identify herself, and the company she was calling from. As if I didn't know who she was, and who I worked for. I had to bite my tongue. I really did. I might not work too well on the outside, but I haven't lost my mind or become retarded. After a (thankfully) short and relatively pathetic attempt at small talk, she got right down to the purpose of her call.

She was calling to tell me she was sending out the Personal Health Insurance forms for me to fill in. "because if you're going to be off for more than six months I need to let the insurance company know". In my surprise, all I could stutter was "but I didn't think I'd been off anything close to six months yet", to which she replied "but they have to be started at the four month stage because th