14 September 2010 @ 12:38 pm
For the record...  
I'm on Dreamwidth now too.

I'm probably not going to migrate over completely for the fairly simple reason that All My Stuff Is Here up to and including the Highly Esteemed Ken Mood Theme, but I am going to be crossposting there. It's... well, pretty much the same thing you can get here, just with a different layout (I don't think this one would work on DW and I don't know enough about CSS to fix it) and slightly fewer icons.

Okay, a lot fewer icons. Including this one, which I don't use nearly enough.

I'm sevendials over there too, so if you, my hypothetical and hopefully not non-existent reader, happen to have a Dreamwidth account, feel free to add me.

Incidentally, if you want a Dreamwidth account and don't know anyone over there who can hook you up with a code due to a severe lack of being Internet Popular, you can do what I did and head on over to Dreamwidth Codesharing and pick one up. I got one from a user called esteliel, and I picked her entry to steal a code from because she had an icon of the Lady of Shalott by J. W. Waterhouse, and I've got a framed print of that painting on my wall. It seemed as good a reason as any to use one of her codes.
Current Mood: hopeful
Current Music: only a lad - oingo boingo
13 September 2010 @ 11:15 pm
... okay, let's see how this works.  
Everybody else is here, so now I am too.

Mostly going to be using this to crosspost from LJ, when I get round to updating that which I haven't for a while because I've been too busy being a ridiculous RP nerd. That probably means this is mostly going to be intermittent fanfic updates and the occasional utterly pointless rant, usually about Weiss Kreuz, JUST LIKE I DO ON LJ because I am deeply, deeply predictable like that and still obsessed with Ken Hidaka, and also rather on the lazy side. Which may well be why I haven't updated my LJ in about a month.

On the other hand, if it turns out that the reason behind that failure to update my personal LJ is as much related to 'can't be bothered to sign out of my RP account' as anything, else having this account and handy-dandy crossposting abilities may well mean I actually end up posting there more. Who can say right now. I guess I'll find out, given a few weeks or so.

Thanks very much to [personal profile] esteliel on [site community profile] dw_codesharing for the code. I picked her entry to steal a code from because she had an icon of the Lady of Shalott by J. W. Waterhouse, and I've got a framed print of that painting on my wall. It seemed as good a reason as any to use one of her codes.
Current Music: signal to noise - peter gabriel
Current Mood: ... well, here i am
15 June 2010 @ 07:34 pm
You're Going Home in an Ambulance.  
Honestly? That was really not how I expected to get home from the supermarket.

I'll explain, but to cut out the tedious scene-setting: I decided I'd go shopping at the big Morrisons in Streatham instead of at the little one-stop quick-e-mart supermarket deals in Norwood. They may have the advantage of closeness and convenience and no need to take the bus there, but they fall down quite badly when it comes to actually stocking all the things that I want to buy and I still have to catch the bus back home anyway. So Morrisons in Streatham it was, because it's bigger and sells decent shampoo and toothpaste. That, in retrospect, was probably not a good idea.

Okay, presume that I've got my shopping and have left the store. Presume that the nearest bus stop is a few hundred yards away up a relatively shallow hill and that this is not a remotely challenging proposition for me, ordinarily.

Now presume that as a result of having to shop for a week and taking the chance to stock up on things that I can't easily find in Norwood - shampoo, toothbrushes - I am laden down with four large and very heavy carrier bags. Presume it's a hot afternoon in high summer, that the bags are thin and easily breakable, that I am already somewhat unwell and as a result have not been eating properly for several days, and was aware that I probably needed to get back pretty quickly by the time I was halfway round the supermarket.

The end result is that by the time I manage to cross the road and start up the hill I'm starting to feel somewhat like an undernourished pack mule. This is not a sensation that I'm used to. I'm a pretty hefty specimen and my carrying capacity's always been pretty good, so this is a new one on me. Still, I've got a bus to catch, so I struggle on up the hill.

A few yards from the turn-off to the bus stop, just by the Christian bookstore, I collapse.

This isn't when they call the ambulance. A rather nice lady stops to ask if I was all right, though: I assure her I'm fine really, just under the weather and carrying too much and I'd be all right. Ha! Lies. Still, back to my feet: the bus stop's not far now. If I just keep going a bit longer - oh, wait, there's the bus. I looked down the road to see how many people are at the stop.

Normally you can count on a good crowd being there, which holds up the driver for some time. Today? Just the one. That means I have to run for it. I run.

I'm most of the way to the bus and feeling like I'm about to drop with exhaustion - the driver is clearly a nice person, though: he's seen I want to catch the bus waiting, something a lot of London bus drivers don't have the humanity to do - when the bottom falls out of one of the carrier bags. Oh, Christ is about all I can think. By some minor miracle, though, the bus driver is still prepared to wait. I eventually haul everything onto the bus, breathing far too hard and feeling like my legs are about to give out again, and we get moving.

This is about where it started to become obvious to me that something is wrong. So wrong the rest of the passengers start to notice. I'm dizzy, I want to collapse. Another woman urges me to sit down and dig through my bags for something to drink. I almost literally fall into the nearest seat and struggle to open a bottle of Lucozade. I get the top partway off and it fizzes up all over my hands. Looking back, I don't think I even succeeded in opening it.

So that's the situation. I'm on the bus going home and I should be relieved to at least be on the thing, but I can't catch my breath. I'm just sitting there gasping like the proverbial landed fish. I'm breathing, breathing hard, but I don't seem to be able to get enough oxygen into me. I nearly slide off the seat. The woman who wanted me to sit holds me up. She keeps asking if I'm okay and I can't get the words out right and don't know what I'm telling her anyway - if I recall correctly what I ultimately settled on was some breathless and barely-coherent combination of 'oh God' and 'I can't see'. I can't see. Some bastard's shoved a kaleidoscope down my optic nerve and I can't see who's talking to me any more. They're just gray shapes broken up by random tessellation.

(Even at the time it seemed weird how symmetrical the optic interference was. It was like getting stuck in one of M. C. Escher's more unimaginative lithos.)

This is about the point they stop the bus and the driver calls an ambulance and, being a fairly standard Englishwoman, I manage to catch my breath for long enough to insist that I'm fine and I'm sorry and they don't need to put themselves out. For fairly obvious reasons they decide to ignore me.

At some point along the way, in between worrying about my shopping and wondering if this is what dying is like, a fragment of my nursing training comes back to me and I bend over in my seat. This aids chest expansion. Nobody else on the bus at this stage realizes that this aids chest expansion as they all try and make me sit up again and I don't have the breath to say I feel better this way. I keep on bending back down and they eventually get the hint that I must be doing it for a reason. My vision starts to clear after that. Someone finds a trained nurse from somewhere and he confirms that being down there's probably the best thing for it. By the time the first ambulanceman shows up, I've managed to reoxygenate myself to the point I can sit up.

By the time the rapid response man's checked me over and the paramedics have got here, I'm feeling more embarrassed than anything. They take me into the ambulance anyway to check me over, at which point the bus presumably departs. I'm apologizing to everyone by this stage - random nurse guy, the passengers, the bus driver, the paramedics.

My observations turn out to be nothing too alarming. My pulse is racing, but that's pretty understandable; my blood pressure turns out to be perfectly healthy. The end result is that the paramedics ask me what I want to do, and I say I want to go home. I'm more exhausted than anything and I just want to lie down, and I know quite enough about hospitals to know that the last place anyone who just wants to rest should be is in an Emergency department. Besides, I'm getting better. All I'd do in an emergency department is take up a bed that should have been given to someone sicker and - though they've all been friendliness itself - I'm already feeling bad enough about wasting the paramedics' time. They agree, tell me I can always call them back if I feel bad again later, and take me home. They even give me a hand carrying the shopping to the door.

By this point I'd recovered to the extent I was wondering if I should post about this on LJ before I had a nap, or afterward. I decided on afterward.

In retrospect I can totally understand why the fuss. A woman near-collapse on public transport, unable to breathe right and already so starved of oxygen her vision's going. You'd call an ambulance if that happened, and any dispatcher with any sense would treat it as urgent. Someone with a broken leg and no other problems is going to be uncomfortable while they wait to be seen, but they're in no immediate danger of anything worse. Someone who can't breathe, on the other hand? That's going to have to be a priority even if, as it did in my case, it largely resolves itself later.

Honestly? I'm just glad I'm all right now, and hopelessly grateful to everyone who took the time to stop to help. So: thanks, you guys, and I just wish there was some way to let you all know. I know none of you will ever see this, but I'm grateful to all of you all the same.
Current Music: goodnight, travel well - the killers
Current Mood: thankful
27 May 2010 @ 02:04 pm
... Well then.  
I'm not even going to pretend to know what happened there and I'm certainly not going to try and backdate anything to attempt to make myself look a little less... well, gone over the last couple of months simply because there's honestly no point. It's too big a job and, perhaps, too blatant a lie.

Suffice to say life has been pretty... well, not so much bad as I've had a lot to think about. There've been a few pretty major changes here and there (yes, I am still engaged: that's not one of them) and it's proved difficult to know how to react to them: they came hand in hand with a mammoth case of writer's block and sundry difficulties that didn't even make being online seem like much of an escape.

The end result is I simply didn't want to keep up with this journal. I just didn't want to sit down and write anything about my life, my thoughts, my opinions. I plain didn't want to think about what it was to be me. So I simply didn't bother.

I wouldn't be me if this hadn't become a source of guilt, but... I just couldn't make myself do it. Blame depression, probably: when it hits - and it doesn't always bother to ring round and make itself known to me first - it hits hard and it's very very hard, when you're stuck in the middle of it, to even realize that hey, maybe I'm depressed again. Life just suddenly seems very bleak and difficult and it's surprisingly hard to make the connection between that and the neurochemistry issues. I think (fingers crossed) I'm adapting, finally: I may have got my head together a bit better now and have also managed to make a few cautious steps back toward writerdom lately, though. I'll have to see if this keeps up, but I'm hopeful. No particular reason for it or why now of all time, I just am. Things aren't so much getting better as I am, at least, tentatively starting to adapt. Guess I'm really not very good at coping with change right now.

I'm still alive, still hanging in there. I just sometimes wish that perhaps I didn't have to just hang in there and hope, hence the radio silence.

Current Music: the fan at the corner of my desk
Current Mood: still alive
28 March 2010 @ 08:15 pm
It's a Life Update.  
Well, I've put this one off for long enough. I was hoping to post this on Thursday, but in between Internet blackouts and my just being a total flake about it and not really knowing how to, you know, put this one - it's not the kind of announcement I ever expected I'd have to make at all, and it's certainly not something I'm expecting to do more than once - I just haven't gotten around to it. It's about time I corrected that, though, so look at me trying.

Okay, so here it is. I'm engaged.

Yes, it's to John. I love him. Yes, it's likely to be rather a long engagement due to not really being in any position to actually get married right now. And we have actually been engaged now for... well, a while. For various reasons we didn't want to go public with it at first. Now here I am going public and no doubt making a mess of it. I really cannot think of any other way to say it, or anything else to say about this that doesn't sound ridiculous.

I'm often at a loss for words when it comes to the important stuff, and I'm no less unsure how I'm supposed to say this, so the simple facts will have to do. I'm getting married and I love the guy I'm marrying stupidly. Because I do, John, and that's all that matters, and whatever happens in the next few months won't change that one little bit.
Current Music: none
Current Mood: happy
26 March 2010 @ 04:40 am
Anatomy of a Blackout.  
Or, What Happens When laila's Internet Connection Goes Down And Stays That Way For No Goddamn Reason.

Yeah. The net's been down here all day, since about half 11 yesterday morning. I could possibly dig up the exact time if I wanted to dig up yesterday's chat logs. It finally came back up about 20 minutes ago, now here I am frantically updating to LJ to let everyone know what in the world just happened, dammit, and that if it happens again and I'm not around unexpectedly chances are it's because my ISP has been an ass and doesn't want me, you know, talking to people. Or something.

Anyway, one of the things that I was doing while the net was down was working on the inevitable LJ Post of Doom that I would make when the net came back up again. This is one of the major impulses of my life: something has happened, must tell LJ all about it. The problem, of course, is that I couldn't, and I couldn't for the best part of fifteen hours. A simple rant would never have covered the time period well enough. I decided to do something different - specifically, a time line. A chronological coverage of one woman's attempt to both define and describe insanity by doing the same few things over and over again and somehow expecting different results. (Namely, internet.)

All times are of course approximate. Please bear in mind that laila is unemployed, doesn't own the home she lives in and was unwell at the time, and so activities may not actually be representatives of even what she would normally do in this situation, still less a normal human being.

00:00 Internet goes down during IM conversation.
00:01 Curse. Wonder what the Hell just happened. Try to reset connection.
00:02 Go down to reset router and see if that works. Discover orange 'Intenet' link is flashing. Presume this is very temporary blip and will be resolved soon, so calm down.
00:08 Go to prepare food.
00:21 Eat food and feel slightly nauseous. Food probably bad idea.
01:00 Take plates downstairs. Try to re-establish connection in case something's happened and nobody's told me. No go.
01:12 Still no go. Go to check downstairs again. Router still flashing orange. Reset router on the off-chance. Nothing happens again.
01:16 Still not panicking. Go back upstairs and do something else for a bit, occasionally poking connection to see what it does. Which, as it turns out, is nothing.
01:40 Go down to check router again. Orange light still blinking. Succumb to fit of 'maybe it's me' paranoia anyway and boot up downstairs computer anyway to see if connection will work there.
01:43 Mildly comforted by fact it doesn't: own computer is therefore not on blink any more than it is already. Mildly annoyed by persistent lack of net.
01:44 Consider phoning ISP.
01:45 Consider getting a life.
01:48 Reread old Sunday supplement while sat by downstairs computer. Magazine thinks Michael Jackson is still alive and is therefore Out of Touch.
02:03 Finish with Sunday supplement. Refresh browser on downstairs computer one last time. Nothing happens, so shut computer down and go back upstairs.
02:15 Already want to check to see if anyone's tagged me. Can't. Try to suppress irritation.
02:17 Still feeling sick. Go lie down for a bit and see if it helps.
06:30 Wake up. Consider going back to sleep as didn't sleep very well at all and could probably do with more rest. Realize to own mild irritation am far too awake for that.
06:34 Mess around with embroidery silk for a bit.
06:36 Turn on own computer in hope that nap will have resolved Internet problem, or given time for same to have happened. Net still persistently down. Not actually surprised by this.
06:37 Check connection via LJArchive anyway just in case notification icon is lying to me, which can happen. Unsurprisingly it isn't.
06:40 Check downstairs again. Router still saying everything's fine except there is no Internet. Landlady home but sleeping.
06:52 Mess around with diagnostics on own computer. Own computer adamant everything's working fine except for the bit where the Internet's gone missing.
07:03 Consider calling ISP again. Realize this would be pointless as am not homeowner and don't have customer details.
07:10 Start email to friends explaining what has happened.
07:14 Abandon email as there's no way to send it and therefore no point writing it. Give way to mild despair and wonder how the Hell to tell Internet friends I won't be around when the Internet is down.
07:19 Realize am mentally planning 'Hiatus' post and contemplating tagging from Internet cafes. WTF at self.
07:20 Tell self that this will have to be fixed somehow as am not only person in house who uses Internet. Wonder if should wait until Other Lodger complains. Wonder why self treats own complaints as somehow invalid.
07:26 Start this log as mildly creative outlet for frustration. Possible Livejournal entry? Decent idea but no Internet.
07:41 Other Lodger returns home, does not try to use computer. Counsel self to be patient.
07:51 Landlady now awake. Wonder once again why own complaints re: lack of internet access would somehow lack validity but still don't say anything to her.
07:53 Finsh log up to current point. Every new update will therefore take place in real time. Oh yay.
08:10 Give up and go talk to landlady. Discover landlady's TV is not working. Explain issue re: lack of Internet. Mildly relieved as if it's majorly effecting her she'll have a reason to try to fix it.
08:14 Landlady gets little TV in dining room to work. Turns out main TV needs - yup - decent Internet reception to work.
08:20 Neighbor now contacted. Apologize profusely for not calling ISP earlier and am told not to worry. Inform landlady problem may have been caused by local DIY as as complaining about power drills when net died.
08:21 Decide to take radical step of just doing something else until I have some idea of what's going on. Console self with idea of going to net cafe and/or borrowing [ profile] rokesmith's laptop tomorrow.
08:30 Wonder if [ profile] rokesmith will call.
08:33 Accidentally open Firefox instead of Word.
08:34 Open Word. Stare at neglected fanfics and wonder what to do.
08:48 Landlady knocks on door and asks me to come down and reset the modem again. Reset modem, talking her through process and explain why fault is not our end. Landlady to ring ISP.
08:51 Retun to writing about Ken Hidaka's formative traumas.
09:10 Landlady off phone. Virgin Internet is not working for anyone who lives in Lambeth, Greenwich, Lewisham and Southwark. Which means it's just a waiting game and I can officially Stop Worrying.
08:57 Decide to heat up a pie, because I know once the net's up I won't want to. Run into landlady in the kitchen. Also heating a pie. Luckily we have two cookers.
09:30 [ profile] rokesmith calls. Explain situation, which doesn't seem so bad now he's called. Am a sap and don't care.
09:37 Have to hang up to eat the pie. Annoying, but it's good pie, so that's something.
09:47 Finish eating pie. Carry plates down and wash them up, Landlady clearly just as annoyed about no TV as I am re: lack of Internets. At least every other Virgin Internet customer in south-east London can sympathize.
09:52 Continue traumatizing five-year-old Ken.
10:02 [ profile] rokesmith calls back. Discuss Carlisle.
10:38 Get off phone. Disconnect and reconnect internet again on the offchance that the notification icon is lying to me. Nothing happens, so decide to retreat to bed for another couple of hours.
14:05 ... seriously, what the Hell happened? Did something explode? Awake again. Still no Internet. 14 hours downtime officially Way Too Damn Long.
14:07 Reset router for the umpteenth time and get orange blinking 'net down' status light again. Waiting game getting tedious. Wonder what the Hell happened to knock south-east London off the map and why nobody fixed it yet.
14:16 Glare at network icon for a bit. Starting to feel Virgin Internet needs to give whole of south London a back massage and a new hat. Get bored, so dig up spork and work on that instead.
14:38 Disconnect and connect again, on the offchance. Still nothing.
14:40 Go downstairs and make crumpets. Reset router for the nth time. Again, nothing happens.
14:52 Realize halfway through crumpet that net is back up again. Throw it down in mad panic and sign into AIM.

... and from there onto Livejournal to transcribe and post this screed.

Anyway, now that's up. If I'm not available at any point over the next few days or so when I really should be, please refer back to this post. If the Internet has indeed gone down again, I'm most likely going to be doing any or all the above in a desperate attempt to make it work again. Thanks for nothing, Virgin Internet, and I hope to God your rail services are rather more efficient than this.
Current Mood: rushed
Current Music: kara remembers - bear mcreary
16 January 2010 @ 06:16 pm
And then for no reason, stuff.  
Heeeey, [ profile] deathcomes4u?

Turns out that the delivery that was being held for me at the Post Office was the package that you sent me just before Christmas. So yes, it got here safely (and they actually obeyed your instructions not to bend it) and I've finally managed to get a hold of it and now I have a dress up Ken paper doll... thing because clearly I AM SUCH A FANGIRL you saw it and thought of me.

This is clearly a VERY SHINY THING and to say I am glad to have him would be an understatement. So thank you for sending it to me!

Also I do apologize for not picking dress up Ken up any earlier than this but I guess that's just what happens when a package arrives for you about five seconds before a week (or more) of snow that makes the idea of walking down the Hill of Death to the sorting office seem very unattractive even before I came down with my annual case of The Dreaded Lurgi. Still, I have it now and better late than never and I am sorry I just managed to mess up it actually being, you know, a surprise. Oh well, at least I got down there to pick Ken up before they could ship him back to the States, so that's something I suppose.

Anyway my Lurgi's still activating, which will come as no surprise to anybody who's well acquainted with how rubbish my immune system is, so now I am going to take it back to bed and give it a bit of a lie-down. Or, in plainer English, I'm going to take yet another nap.
Current Music: midnight show - the killers
Current Mood: grateful
27 December 2009 @ 10:07 pm
Front Door 'Still Fucked', Say Experts.  
To be honest, I'm just glad this happened when I had all my bags with me. I may not have everything I need, but I do have stuff for a week. If I can just get to a damn washing machine, I should be okay to hang on for a little longer. I mean, as people locked out of houses in midwinter go, I'm pretty well-equipped.

Clearly I am going to get no writing done. On the upside, though, I may actually get somewhere with my novel research.

Also, if the lock wasn't broken before it is now.

The one upside to this is that both times the lock was damaged I was miles away. The lock jammed yesterday when my neighbor went to feed the cat, and I was 60 miles away in Kent. This evening, when she and her (theoretically, at least!) technically-minded friend managed to completely fuck up the lock by breaking off the spare key in it, I was a mile down the road in Streatham and have the AIM chat logs to prove it - there's no way I could have simultaneously have been talking to [ profile] pichi and breaking my landlady's front door by jamming lumps of metal in it and forcing them until they broke. See, this is why I ultimately stopped messing around with my key and admitted defeat. Either way, though, I'm totally in the clear as regards whose responsibility this is.

As regards an eventual fix, a locksmith is definitely going to be needed but I myself will not be making the decision as to what happens next. It's all got a bit big and expensive for me. The way I see it, my landlady can sort this out with our neighbor. I'll be going round locksmiths tomorrow to try and figure out what if anything can be done to fix this, but I honestly don't plan for it to be much more than fact-finding. I'm not authorizing fixing up a mess of this level behind my landlady's back. Fact is, it's not my house, not my money, not my fault, and not my responsibility. I just live there.

Finally, as for where I am actually going to be until my landlady gets back and some decision can be made as to what to do about getting indoors, I'm going to go crash at Richard's for a few days. I plan to get online at least a couple of times in the interim, but don't expect to see that much of me until this shit sorts itself out.
Current Music: a train hit a cow in the kitchen
Current Mood: actually, it's kinda funny
27 December 2009 @ 07:42 pm
Or not.  
Having arrived back in London, I have discovered that I have been locked out of my house.

Yeah. Indeed, fuck my life. Clearly someone up there is finding this hilarious but whoever it is really needs to go find someone else to pick on because I do not find this stuff amusing any more. I wouldn't find this amusing on a bright midsummer morning and it is definitely not amusing at half six on a Sunday evening in the middle of FUCKING DECEMBER. The chances of me getting back in tonight are slim to nil and I'll only have a hope of getting back in tomorrow if I pay a locksmith for the privelige of walking through my own fucking front door.

After a week at my parents' I just want to relax for a bit. Clearly this is not about to happen any time soon. FUCK MY LIFE again.

I'm currently round at [ profile] rokesmith's wondering what in the fuck I am supposed to do next that doesn't involve breaking a window (largely because there are no windows in the house that wouldn't be really obviously broken to any idiot who happened to wander past). My landlady isn't home until Friday and even if she was back tomorrow it would be no goddamn good because we'd just both be locked outside instead of just me. If this was my own home I'd just say fuck it, bung a brick through one of the windows and call a glazier. As it's not, I've got to call a locksmith, who I am led to believe charge considerably more for their time than the plate-glass guys, and hope like Hell they can actually get me inside.

This should not be my responsibility and is definitely not my fault. To say I'm getting a teeny bit tired of feeling like the butt of some cosmic joke (take one intelligent and generally competent human being with just the slightest tendency to reactive depression and put them on welfare UNTIL THEY GO FUCKING NUTS) would be to understate the point considerably.

The irony is I'm pretty sure I know exactly how this happened. The neighbor who has been feeding our cat claims ignorance, but I think it's something she's done. Our front door is temperamental, see, and sometimes - very rarely, but it happens - when trying to unlock the font door, the lock will actually engage the security lock and effectively jam rather than actually open. This has happened a couple of times, usually to people who aren't that used to how the door actually works - but every other time it's happened before now there's been somebody in the house. If there's someone indoors, it's a simple enough matter to get them to disengage the double lock from the inside and open the door.

This time, it's happened while there's nobody in the house, so there's no way to unfasten the security lock - and, therefore, no way to get indoors. So I'm stuck outside the house, and so will everyone else be when they actually get back.

Seriously, does anyone want my life? It's only slightly used, and you'd likely get more success out of it than I ever could.
Current Mood: indescribable
Current Music: nothing, everything's either packed or stuck at home.
20 December 2009 @ 12:59 pm
... oh yeah, and then there's this.  
Okay, so the bags are packed, the presents are wrapped (it was a very near thing), the last-minute laundry I had to do on account of spilling milk all over my clean pants last night is done and dried and I am, I think, about as ready as I am going to get to exchange my comfortable little South London rut for a slightly different rut in Kent which also contains my parents and my brother. Hopefully it'll do me for a week - that's all I need.

Well, except for this. 'This' being this Livejournal post, which I am making to... well, largely to appraise anyone who might care with the aforementioned festive rut-exchange.

For the first time ever, I actually have holiday dates, so: I am going to be away from today, the 20th December, until a week today, namely the 27th.

During this time I expect my Internet access to be, at best, somewhat curtailed. I'm not totally sure if my parents still have a net-capable PC: they may do, and if they do I should be able to get online and use it at least occasionally. If something has happened and they now don't have a working computer, though, I'm going to be incommunicado from now until I'm back in London, which would be a frankly terrifying prospect but one that I have prepared for by packing lots of books. Either way things are going to be a little iffy this end for the next week, but isn't that going to be the case almost everywhere?

So, in case I don't get to say so in a more timely fashion, I hope everyone reading this has a merry Christmas, Hanukkah or other winter holiday of choice.
Current Music: running up that hill - placebo
Current Mood: wish me well... please?