WHAT.

Mar. 15th, 2016 03:18 pm
teylaminh: (Buffy - sanity)
That ^ is the polite version of what I put on Twitter last night.

I seriously cannot even with the X-Files finale. I don't even feel capable of doing a write-up at this point because that cliffhanger was ridiculous. And I like cliffhangers, so that's saying something. On the one hand it's great because it leaves things open for a new season (or even another film), and I do think the reboot has been popular enough to warrant one, but on the other hand, if the show doesn't get renewed for Season 11 then we'll be left in limbo forever. (And there's no guarantee a film could even directly continue from the cliffhanger because of the amount of exposition they'd have to include for any non-fans who might watch it...)

In the meantime, my subconscious treated me to a lovely shippy dream, presumably to make up for the crushing disappointment that was my faith in Chris Carter to not break my heart. :P

(This is also the first dream I've remembered in ages, though I suspect it also resulted from reading old episode transcripts late last night to remind me that yes, at one point Chris Carter did manage to give the fans what they wanted even though he's suddenly decided to send our emotions through the wringer again...)

X-Files Dream )

Yeeeah. DAMN YOU, CHRIS CARTER, YOU STUBBORN AND EVIL GENIUS.

Proper write-up coming for "My Struggle II" when I am not COMPLETELY BROKEN and reeling in disbelief. :P
teylaminh: (JC - melon - J/M)
This long weekend I want to get around to doing a couple of LJ entries (last day at work plus two weeks off, and the Derby Gaol vigil from last week), as well as some Jonathan Creek screencaps, at least the rest of series 2 and "Black Canary" if not more.

Talking of which... the next Easter special is this Monday and I AM EXCITE. There have been two interviews posted on Tumblr recently with Alan Davies and Sheridan Smith, in which Alan moans that "Creek Geeks" used to send him awful fanfic in the 90s (trying to write mysteries and failing - it makes me wonder what he might make of mine, being mostly character / non-mystery based!) and Sheridan made a very interesting / intriguing comment. She said it's been three years since the last special (which means I've been plotting the Doomfic that long without getting anywhere!) and Joey is the same old Joey, but Jonathan has changed quite a lot.

She wouldn't reveal any more than that, but needless to say it got the cogs turning. :) I am, of course, going to be on the look-out for another veiled Maddy!mention, as they are now traditional. In light of that comment from Sheridan, I am very curious as to whether Renwick will still be projecting his own feelings onto Jonathan regarding Caroline's departure, and whether it means that actually, Renwick is the one who's grown up about it. Or, as ever, I'm just reading too much into it. I will try and do a full and comprehensive write-up of the episode afterwards, anyway. :)

In any case, I blame that comment for the fact that I had another Creek dream this morning which was EPIC and SHIPPY and which I now can't remember properly. Of course.

In which Jonathan Creek becomes sci-fi... )

So, that's that.

The JC flail has not disappeared, incidentally, it's just hibernating until such point as [livejournal.com profile] cloudsinvenice and I recommence our rewatch. I have an idea for another story brewing away, namely a POTO crossover (don't ask), so that combined with the imminent Easter special are to blame for the dream, I suspect.

Anyway, today I will try and get some embroidery done before cooking tea and going to the pub, and later this weekend I will do proper updates. I want to get them written before the new JC episode because that will take enough time as it is. :P

Over and out - for now.
teylaminh: (Derren Brown - blank)
Worringly, I have not remembered any of my dreams in months. I dislike this turn of events. However, lately I have actually been remembering them in part, though a lot of them have been disjointed and weird and not coherent enough to write down in any constructive manner.

Last night's was so brilliant, though, I simply must share it. :D I will endeavour to start writing down what I can remember a bit more often as some of the latest dreams have been vivid along with the weirdness, and something is infinitely better than nothing. Nevertheless, here is what I remember of last night's.

Dream: My Mate Derren )

Here's hoping I can start remembering my dreams more properly now. As I say, I've had a few strange visions of late but nothing concrete. I generally dislike the dry periods, and they seem to occur when I'm especially stressed and trying to get through things without committing homicide, which seems a fair reaction, but I'd rather my brain sorted the problems out through dreams instead. I would even prefer the recurring nightmare themes (such as being chased / trying to escape) to barren nothingness.

So, yes. There we go. Hopefully more to come if I remember to write them down. (Waking up with migraines doesn't really help, to be honest...)

In other news, Project Fitness is now underway, of sorts. We didn't manage to go swimming on Sunday as we ended up sleeping in until half-eleven - clock changes notwithstanding - so we obviously needed the sleep catch-up. It was nice to have a quiet weekend for a change, though. We stocked up on mixed salad and dressings (and bacon bits and crispy onions) in order to make lunches, and on Sunday night we were terribly organised and made roast duck salads (using the leftovers from dinner) to take in to work on Monday. And of course we both left them behind, so they had to be thrown away.

Today we have chicken caesar of a sorts, although I forgot to make any croutons last night to go in them.

We did, however, manage to get to the gym last night - and subsequently ruined the hour of hard work by going to McDonalds as Paul was en route to Broken Amp - and my arms and legs all hurt, so I'm taking that as a positive sign. No more excuses now, twice a week and swimming at weekends and sensible eating habits. YES. Today I have my (possibly too small) salad and an apple and a clementine and I will get a healthy yogurt at lunchtime too. I CAN DO THIS.

Next week I will start a food diary and keep track of my calorie intake daily and weight on a weekly basis, now that I have floors that are actually level on which to place my scales. I was doing really well last January (as in 2011) but then became disheartened when I realised the bathroom and kitchen floors were both so uneven as to give me five separate readings on each occasion.

So yes. I will try not to bore people with updates but cannot promise anything. :P
teylaminh: (Derren Brown - mind reader)
I forgot to mention this in yesterday's über-post, but I remembered it again this morning with the remnant of a dream.

To Sleep, Perchance... )

Yes, I am probably mad. :P
teylaminh: (SB - Glenn Close Norma)
Last night / this morning, I had (as the subject suggests) a ridiculously epic dream with several different intertwining plots and which, as [livejournal.com profile] commoncomitatus will be infinitely amused to discover, starred Glenn Close. And by starred I mean she was in approximately 95% of it. So I'll be using my current / temporary default icon. Actually, that might be more apt than I first thought.

Incidentally, until I start remembering my dreams with regular monotony again, I've decided to keep all dream posts public for now and return to the filter if/when they become more forthcoming. I apologise in advance for the ramblingness of this; despite the epicness, the dream itself only had a couple of 'scenes' with any plot value and the rest was fluff. In several senses of the word, as you will discover.

Dream: Glenn Close Epicness )

So yes, that dream is the reason I'm up so early on a Sunday (I started this entry at 9.30) and now I'm going to catch up on X-Factor, find out what time EastEnders starts (thanks, brain, I didn't need a reminder!!) and dust the bedroom. As a result of the deep sleep I have woken up with a very small migraine, but to be quite honest, it was worth it!

Eni may mock at will, now. :D
teylaminh: (PotC - eurothrashed - rumgone)
Once again I have been rather lax in updating, and once again it's because I haven't been doing anything. Work is still insanely busy, with the pile of typing simply not dwindling despite best efforts, and to be honest I've just been trying to get to payday without being completely destitute.

In fact, last week I had to extend my overdraft online by £100, to cover a leaving dinner which took place yesterday, the day before payday. I'm glad I did, though, because it was a very pleasant evening. (And anyway, now that Paul's been paid I can knock that £100 off the overdraft again and go back to normal...)

We went to Piccollino last night, an Italian restaurant in Brindley Place (opposite Ikon Gallery and directly behind Flares), and there were ten of us in total, though one of the people for whom the dinner was held didn't turn up, as she left several weeks ago... We were under the impression she would come, but never mind...

The food was lovely. Fairly expensive (I always think Italian food is horribly overpriced anyway), but actually worth the money. The grills were very steep (steaks were about £20!) but the pastas, pizzas and risottos weren't too bad (between £9 and £12), and it all came to about £20 per head in the end, which was surprising considering how quickly the wine was flowing...

It was all very laid back and we finally left the restaurant around 9.45, ambled back in a New Street sort of direction and parted ways at the ramp to go our separate ways. Everyone always says after nights out like this that we should do it more often, as we only ever seem to get together when people are leaving. The good intentions are usually scuppered by various other work commitments, though... Ah well.

As a result of being slightly tipsy and the heat last night, however, I'm somewhat hungover and decidedly sleepy today. (And we might be going out AGAIN for another leaver tonight! Will have to see how I feel about that later...) I also had two very bizarre dreams, which I shall recount herein. :)

Dreams: Exciting Exhibition; Interrogation )

I totally want a Sunset Boulevard exhibition, though. :D I suppose I'll have to make do with the Tim Burton artwork exhibition when it finally appears in the UK in about 2011. And frankly, I'm not missing that for anything. :P

Dream Post

Jun. 23rd, 2010 12:24 pm
teylaminh: (Photo - Clouds)
Wonder of absolute wonders, I've actually remembered one of my dreams properly (as in, all the way through) for the first time in what feels like months. I've remembered occasional snippets here and there, and also started typing up a few other dreams at work without getting chance to finish them, so they didn't get posted on LJ. This one was so vivid and frelling weird that I am determined to get it written down and posted. Dream filter be damned; this one's public!

Dream: Lost Dog )

So, there it is. I hope this means a vague return to form in terms of dream-remembrance. I miss remembering my dreams, even when they make no sense. Where my RL creativity fails me, my subconscious can always surprise me and produce the kind of imagery I thought myself incapable of.

Incidentally, there is work stuff to update about, but I'll wait until it's blown over. Besides, things are busy here again and I've not had time to think.

Good news: Paul finally has a start date, and it's this Monday (28th June). Considering he got the conditional job offer in mid-May, I am less than impressed with HR and Occupational Health for slowing the entire process to a crawl, and that apparently being off sick once per year (effectively) is enough to warrant filling out a form that assesses whether you're fit for work. New sickness policy FTW.

That be it. Over and out.
teylaminh: (Photo - Sunset orange)
I haven't actually remembered a full dream in a while (I started to write up the last one I remembered, but as I had no internet access at work it didn't get finished / posted) and for the most part lately my dreams have been fragmented, rather than the epic narratives I'm used to. I also still haven't gotten around to re-typing the dream I lost to work's power cut, though I have the written draft knocking about somewhere at home and can remember it still quite vividly...

Anyway, I can remember snippets of the various dreams I had last night / this morning between alarms, so here they are...

Dream Snippets )

No idea what any of it means, but the images were vivid enough to write down, so that's better than nothing. I've been having scrappy little dreams like this for about two months, off and on. Hopefully I can get back to non-linear, illogical and impossible-to-describe sagas soon. :)

In other news...

We had a concert on Saturday, for the MacMillan / Fauré. Seven Last Words from the Cross turned out to be a lot better than I think we were anticipating; the ending especially is really eerie. After that, however, the Requiem was a bit of a come down, though the fear was that if we'd done things the other way around (i.e. Fauré first and MacMillan after the interval), people would come for the Fauré and then bugger off. :P

We are now rehearsing for the vast amount of things to do for next season. On Tuesday we made a start on Parry's Best Pair of Nylons Blest Pair of Sirens, which is full of TRUMPETS and HORNS and is PATRIOTIC. *salutes* We also had a go at Bernstein's Chicester Pslams, which we are singing in Hebrew. I'm sure [livejournal.com profile] commoncomitatus* will be amused to hear that. :P So far it's actually not as bloody difficult as the Italian was back when we did Aida, though I'm going to approach it in the same way of just Learning The Words instead of trying to read it...

We are also doing Fauré's Cantique de Jean Racine, Verdi's Requiem and also Durufle's Requiem (which I know I did with Derby Choral Union, but damned if I can remember a single note of it. I even went to find it on Spotify and it didn't ring any bells...) I'm not sure if we're doing all of those in the same concert, but it's a lot of work to get in nonetheless.

A few busy weekends coming up: going to Alex's this Saturday at some point, then next Saturday is Birmingham Pride parade followed by a wedding reception. And then it will be barbecue season, I imagine...

Anyway, that's enough of an update for now. I already tweeted and Facebook'd about Paul getting the job he applied for, so for the moment we're just waiting until his first paycheque (which won't be until 28th June, I think) and for all the formalities to be cleared, and then hopefully things will start getting better. FINALLY.

Seriously, 2010. You took your bloody time.

On a final note - it's absolutely gorgeous weather today. But no hotter, mmmkay?

*And if you're still wanting to come to a concert, Eni, I can't think of a better one than this... unless you've had enough Hebrew to last a lifetime already, in which case you can smack me upside the head...
teylaminh: (JC - Jonathan - eww)
Bit of a quiet one last night. I escaped from work at 3.30 because I was insanely tired (but had no caffeine, as I've not been able to get to sleep the past two nights), we had dinner fairly early and then Paul went out to watch the football at Alex's. Whilst he was out I ended up watching (finally) Howl's Moving Castle, which I'd taped over Christmas.

Some thoughts. )

Paul returned shortly after it ended (it's quite long, much more so than I was expecting) and we settled down to watch the kick-off of Derren Brown's The Events on C4, where he predicted the lottery numbers - all six correctly. On Friday he reveals all; apparently it took him a year of intensive work. It should be noted that his predicted numbers were totally not the numbers stuck to the lamp-post in the advert... the entire thing's very mysterious right now, what with the backwards website (retsehcnaMdetinU.com) and "It will be you" messages. I suspect that all of this has nothing whatsoever to do with the actual programme, and as ever Derren is just messing with our minds.

Went to bed after that, and I think I must have nodded off before Paul came in only to wake up shortly afterwards, as I can definitely remember him asking if I was okay because I was trying to get comfy...

Whilst I'm here, I'll share my dream from the other day. Can't be bothered to filter it, but I just want to share the trauma. Dream: Teeth Trauma. )

Grah. *shudders* I HATE HATE HATE teeth trauma dreams. I had one when we last stayed over in London (February) which I now can't remember, but I was paranoidly checking my teeth were intact for about two hours after I woke up. Awful. This one wasn't as bad, I think because it provoked that reaction within the dream itself, but on thinking about it afterwards it was fairly horrible...

Okay, I think that's everything. I have tomorrow off (initially in case there was a hen do - still not sure if there is, but a day off is a day off) so will get around to watching OotP and probably SLEEP a lot.
teylaminh: (Buffy - sanity)
This bit is not important )

Paul has his interview with Solihull Council today for a proper job (as opposed to his rubbish temp job at present), though at 10.25 (10 minutes after it was due to start) he rang me to say that after finding the building, they proceeded to have a power cut... [Edit, somewhat later: he seems to think it went well, so here's hoping. Apparently they only interview four candidates out of all the applications.]

Okay, I am now going home because I've spent my entire afternoon waiting for the bloody network to react at something more than a snail's pace, and partaking in our bi-annual pointless BEST meeting. Bored now.
teylaminh: (MH - Matthew - WTF?!)
One of the office printer is making a noise that sounds suspiciously like "om nom nom" whenever it feeds paper through. It keeps making me snigger but I can't explain why, because I don't think anyone would get it...

This morning Paul's 6.30 alarm woke me from a potentially interesting (if surreal) Sunset Boulevard-related dream. It differed somewhat from my usual fare of SB dreams, but obviously only came about because I re-read the prologue and first chapter of the SB/BaT crossover last night. Clearly, it doesn't take much for it to re-invade my brain. I'll post it under a cut out of sheer laziness because I can't be bothered to do a separate entry...

Bizarre SB dream )

Er, yes. *pats brain* Whatever, dear.

The other thing I want to talk about is this...

[livejournal.com profile] joetimewaster posted a link recently to the marvellous Sims 3 story of Kev and Alice (stick it in Google - I believe it's on Wordpress somewhere), which is absolutely frelling wonderful. As a result of this, I have come to the following two conclusions:-

  1. I have thus far avoided being sucked into the brain-destroying, life-eating land of the Sims (save for several hours wasted on Sim City 2000) purely through self- and sanity-preservation. I know my tendencies. I have an addictive personality when it comes to stuff like this. However, that being said, I must have Sims 3. Alas, at present I have neither sufficient RAM nor enough hours in my life, so it'll have to wait until one or the other becomes available. ;)

  2. This is quite possibly the future of fanfic. I know in the past that people have created character simsets out of fun, but seeing as how Sims 3 seems to be almost akin to artificial intelligence in the way the characters develop, the possibilities are endless! Plus it would be kind of fun to create your favourite characters and see how alike you can get them to 'real life' with personality traits, and then see if they interact in the same manner. Fascinating. :D


In other news, I have been sucked well and truly into Big Brother this year - how adorable was Sree last night? Rodriguo FTW! Or possibly Lisa. Or Angel. And I think Freddie/Halfwit/Anarchist Tory is going on Friday by the looks of things. And GAH Marcus is annoying - for which I apologise profusely, and I got my hair cut last night, but nothing much else. :)
teylaminh: (MH - little boy lost)
Right, can get back to 'proper' updates now.

Firstly, the slightly overdue Coraline mutterings and related ramblings... Contains Spoilers )

Sorry, that went on a bit.

This next one will be shorter: Paul finally convinced me to watch Rebel Without A Cause last night (I did want to see it, was just never in the mood) and I quite enjoyed it. For those who don't know - and perhaps Eni might be interested in this - the scenes at the abandoned house are actually the same one from Sunset Boulevard - the exteriors, at least. Not quite sure about the interiors, as it looked to me as though the entire layout was reversed. Still, it was quite exciting to see it in colour. :D

It also inspired a sentence, of sorts. A throwaway comment from Joe, either in his voice or just in his narrative style, about how one day that house might be abandoned and kids would use it as a castle... because SB is all about the inter-referential fun.

Fiiiinally, my bizarre dream. Not enough to properly warrant filtering it, so it's public. Caged animals )

I do believe that's everything. I had another jaunt to Acock's Green this lunchtime to get more food colouring paste for Alison's birthday picnic cake, and thankfully the trains did not conspire against me for once. Rather, my own stupidity did, as I managed to go the wrong way out of the station and added 20 minutes to my overall time. Boo.

Need to pick up some other bits of shopping tonight, including lime marmelade...

Over and out.

Yt Ys Donne

May. 1st, 2009 10:03 am
teylaminh: (MH - tekiclutch - spirit bunnies)
Job application thingy signed, sealed and delivered this morning, after half-copying an old application form blurb last night. Now I can stop stressing for a bit.

I had this really, really strange dream this morning... Bizarre... )

Intriguing.

My foot has not been happy the past couple of days. I think my work shoes are to blame; they are too small in terms of the actual shoe-size, but simultaneously too wide for my narrow feet. They also have a 1.5" wedge heel on them, and I think all of these factors have been responsible for my foot hurting yesterday and Tuesday (but not so much Wednesday, when I was wearing a skirt and hence different shoes). I've bought some slightly more sensible work shoes from Deichman, leather ones which will hopefully be waterproof and which fit much better. £25 for leather shoes really isn't bad, considering I'll doubtless wear them to death and they'll last probably four times longer than the faux-leather cheap equivalents from Priceless... Yet more money I ddin't really intend to spend, though.

The physiotherapist reckoned it wasn't broken because it had stopped hurting and the swelling had gone down, but I personally reckon it was / is. (Worrying that four entirely different doctors / specialists told me four entirely different things...) If I catch or jar it at the wrong angle it's still quite painful, and the only way I can describe it is as though the bones need to be 'cricked'. It's weird.

Still, I'm probably going to start going swimming again, as after a while last time my foot eventually stopped cramping, and exercise can only be of the good.

Aaand finally, I'm going to get my hair cut tonight. Poll answers were unforthcoming (50% in either direction) but I shall keep it short for the summer (now, watch it rain...) and start growing it after Christmas.

Another quiet day so I might work on some writing...
teylaminh: (NBC - tower light)
I mentioned this briefly on Twitter, but here is the longer version.

I had this incredibly surreal dream yesterday morning that I absolutely cannot remember in the slightest, except that I think I was trying to escape from cavaliers / terrorists / pirates (all three at once), woke up briefly and then went into another dream wherein I was trying to describe the previous dream to my mum. Odd.

Before that dream, however, I can remember having a very brief JC-related bit of randomness before Paul's alarm went off at 5.45am and woke me up (he'd forgotten to turn it off from the day before). All I can remember is that it was set at the end of series 3 and they'd just finished this harrowing investigation, and had decided to go on holiday somewhere. There was some mention of how much time Adam would let Jonathan have off, and that's all I can remember.

Afterwards, I ended up not being able to get to sleep for another hour or so (thus leading into the surreal and mostly-forgotten dream above) and ended up with two vaguely interesting JC fic ideas.

The first is the "Omega Man" tag I wanted to do, though at the moment all I have for that is a couple of random images which may not lead anywhere.

The second is a post-series 3 notion incorporating a scene which was going to be in my last chapterfic effort before it dried up. Details )

That's about it, really. I should probably go to bed.

Deary Me...

Mar. 7th, 2009 03:41 pm
teylaminh: (Random - Trees)
Falling back into fandom with a massive crash has its advantages; I'm not quite sure if bizarre dreams are one of them.

I had a dream about Sunset Boulevard. At least, I think I did. Eddie Izzard turned up at one point in a blue suit, but that might have been a different section. There was also a really bizarre bit just before I woke up that I can't properly remember.

Anyway. SB Dream )

Hm, I should make a start on some of the SB-related stuff I wanted to get done today: make a new LJ layout when I find a theme to modify from someone, and scan the old tour brochure for that purpose. I need more SB icons, especially of the N/J persuasion, though I fear it may result in messy image manips.

Watch this space.
teylaminh: (Derren Brown - Oracle)
(I didn't make that rhyme intentionally...)

My silly X-Files fic idea has almost completely come to fruition in my brain. Details )

And because it's about fandom, I shan't bother to filter the dream I had last night, but I will cut it nonetheless. I won't hold out hope that it's prophetic... )

I'm sure I had something else to mention, but damned if I can remember what it was...

Oh! That was it. I finished The Book Thief last night and the ending is so, so sad. Well, the penultimate chapter, at least. I didn't intend to finish it, but got completely sucked in thinking it couldn't possibly end how it did.

I would definitely recommend it. The concept in itself is interesting (though some people have said the style and narrator make it seem rather dispassionate and distant, given the nature of the characters; not entirely true, but each to their own) and there are some very interesting turns of phrase within the seemingly conversational narrative.

Paul is reading it next and then I can give it back to my mum, though I'll definitely buy another copy for myself. :) Next on the list is Tracy Chevalier's Burning Bright (another borrowed one), and then I can get back to my proper list. I should probably read The Last Unicorn after that (which shouldn't take too long), and then White Teeth.

And then all the others I keep picking up.

Oh! I also got hold of The Boy Who Kicked Pigs by Tom Baker (yes, THAT Tom Baker) and it's very, very odd. Somewhat reminiscent of Tim Burton's The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy and the ending is horrible. I literally read it in an hour (it's a children's book), so if you can find it, give it a go.

That's definitely everything. :)
teylaminh: (Retro - 80s robot)
I won't filter this, as there's not nearly enough information to bother... Three separate bits which I don't properly remember.

Including bonus fandom! )

Nowt else to report except that I’m going to have to sit out choir AGAIN thanks to this bloody cough. BORED NOW.

*cries*

Dec. 17th, 2008 11:32 am
teylaminh: (JC - Jonathan - eww)
Holy mother of Moly I am so sick of this. D=

The cold has moved into my sinuses today, as anticipated. My head feels all cotton-wool-ified, which would probably be okay except for the total exhaustion. The reason for my exhaustion? Cut for TMI )

My ears feel bunged up. :( Which is making audio-typing very interesting. My brain-to-mouth connection is also quite slow. I know what I want to say, but can't quite actually say it. Fun.

This had damn well better clear up to a reasonable degree by Sunday. I don't think we're singing anything particularly vicious so hopefully even if I have a cough my voice will hold out. Rather now than at Christmas, also. I'm leaving early today, long lunch be damned. I need a frelling nap...

Edit, 15.25: Well, our Christmas meal was quite nice, but my insides apparently disagree with my tastebuds. OW OW OW. Thank anything for flexi-time and being able to leave at 3.30, though I think I can hold out til four... There's just so much work here today it's untrue, and I feel bad enough for going home early yesterday... Oh, and as an interesting off-shoot of the bad stomach and subsequently holding myself tensely in an attempt to stop the pain, my back is twinging again. *sigh* It never rains, it pours. Or in my case, throws great fuck-off hailstones at me.
teylaminh: (MH - little boy lost)
Really odd dream this morning... I can't remember much of the plot of it, if it even had one, and as such it doesn't warrant a filtered post of its own. Disjointed... )

There was a time I could have described all of that so much better. Meh.

Occasionally, I get these periods where my brain starts filing thoughts away, and when the filing cabinet gets too full, the thoughts start to bubble out of the top and niggle at my consciousness. Sometimes the bubbling comes to fruition in a post which was probably best left unwritten, but we'll see how it goes. If they don't get too tumultous, I may let them evaporate instead. (They majoritarily seem to revolve around friends and the future and a combination of both...)

Oh, while I'm here: I put this on Facebook, but for anyone who isn't there and might be interested:

1st November 2008 from 6.30pm - we're having another Bad Movie Night to celebrate Hallowe'en (would have been actually on Hallowe'en but Paul and I are seeing Nosferatu at the Town Hall instead.) Costumes are optional but the theme - obviously - is Movie Heroes. BYOB and I'll lay on buffet-type food as usual, which you don't have to eat if you don't want. There are sleeping arrangements if you need / want to stay over but bring a sleeping bag just in case...

I think that's it. You can also bring some Bad Movies if you want, though Blockbuster were more than helpful last time. Alternatively, bring your favourite 'good' horror film, and just ignore what Lloyd says. :P (We were going to try and get El Orfanato as the 'good' film, but I think trying to watch that when pissed would be a very bad plan.)

Fin.

Tags, etc.

Aug. 21st, 2008 10:39 am
teylaminh: (Random - Oblivion wheels)
I think I shall re-tag my LJ this weekend - assuming I can get near the PC, that is. *rolls eyes* I decided to do this a while ago, admittedly, but a dream last night inspired me to actually get it done. My tags are a bit shambolic - I keep renaming them and then forgetting I've done it, hence hending up with two different types.

I've had three reviews on the PotC fanfic thus far, one of which from a very helpful lady who advised me on tips for Tia Dalma's accent, so I'm going to edit the first chapter with her suggestions and email her the bits I have in the second chapter. I love her accent, but it's very hard to emulate. At least Barbossa just talks like a clichéd pirate. ;)

As for the dream last night (or this morning, technically), the only part I can remember - perhaps the only part there was - involved PotC. That's what I get for working on fic before bed, clearly. And also for making a start on reading the quite marvellous [livejournal.com profile] redux_08 last night (AWE re-written with better mythology, background and Sparrabethness! :D)

Anyway, the dream )

And that's why I suddenly have the urge to go through my LJ and tag it properly. I'll have had the bloody thing seven years in September, mind you, so it'll be an ongoing process...

Is that blue sky I can see in the air? Will wonders never cease?! It's only, y'know, August... I told you the weather would clear up just in time for my moving furniture tomorrow. It MOCKS me. It does.

As a final note, I bought the 'New York' Impulse body spray last night (another of their 'limited edition' scents, though they've been around about a year now) as it was the only one I hadn't tried, and it appears to contain a particularly noxious chemical which is making my asthma flare up. *sigh* It's either that or the constantly changing weather lately. *shakes fist at Britain*

*yawns*

Jun. 12th, 2008 11:43 am
teylaminh: (MH - Worshipped & Adored by Many)
Strange night's sleep. I slept straight through, but didn't manage to go to bed until half an hour later than anticipated, thanks to tweaking my LJ layout. I really need to learn the S2 style system one of these days, as the defaults are so restricting / glitchy...

Then, despite being horribly tired, I couldn't get to sleep because for some reason my eyes started itching in an allergic-type fashion, which was incredibly annoying...

This morning I had a strangely fragmented dream which finished off with the couple from this year's Big Brother (Lisa and Mario), who owned an online dating service and really wanted to sign me up despite the fact I was with Paul... it was very odd.

Today I have spent half an hour destapling old instruction sheets from August 07 onwards, because when Kathy does the stats she keeps bloody bringing them back in case there are any queries, which there never are, and they've slowly started piling up on top of the drawers under my desk. So I fed the green recycling bin and saved a few trees...

Must tidy up flat tonight in readiness for grandmother arriving. Just for the sake of appearances, you understand. I don't want to look like the slob I am, obviously. Anyway, the bathroom needs cleaning since Phil came to fix the light, as there's plaster on the floor, and the stairs need hoovering (Paul's job), and I need to find somewhere for that bin liner full of board games to live. I was going to put them in the sideboard and then remembered that's where I put my sheet music...

Nothing much else to report, really. The last week before impending annual leave of any kind (whether long or short) is awful. I want to go back to bed. :(

Oh, before I forget: something resembling a to-do list for my week/s off:
  • Update fics - Jonathan Creek and "Strange Glue"
  • Read Eni's Seekrit Fanfik
  • Work on Voyager page for website (I made some vague attempt but need to brush up on my HTML and also make it much less complicated than at present...)
  • Start re-watching The X-Files - there's absolutely no chance in Hell of finishing all nine series before the new movie opens in August but I can have a fair go...
  • Watch some DVDs
  • Day trip with Paul on 20 June (no idea where as yet)
  • Remember to go to choir / swimming
  • Obtain bike
  • Ride bike
  • General housework
  • Possibly obtain material for curtains
  • Make tie-backs at the very least
  • Attempt to tag entire LJ

That's more than enough to be going on, really.

Also, very little work here today. *goes to sleep*
teylaminh: (Default)
So, [livejournal.com profile] yoshi and I have been working through The 10th Kingdom. I'd forgotten the sheer brilliance. Anyway, we just started on episode 2 last night, and as a result, for some reason, my brain gave me a mostly nonsensical Wolf/Virginia-centric dream. Much appreciated, but somewhat strange considering the first time I watched the series (back in sixth form) that ship took over my dreams then, too...

Which is precisely why, when I go to see the new X-Files movie in August (and seriously, I'll go on my own if I have to), despite the fact it's been years and I'm no longer obsessed with it (but, wow, good times...) I will doubtless squee like a fangirl at the inevitable MSR. :D

Old ships never die; they just wait, dormant, until such time as they have reason to pop up again. So much for objectivity, though. ;)

In other news, the credit card bill is currently quite horrendous, so no more spending. We have been quite bad, really, but at least both of us are paying it off. Must lay off it until December, October at the earliest. I'm hoping by the time my mum's birthday rolls around in August I'll have actual money to spend...

Went out last night to see Clare-from-Uni at the Green Rooms, which was nice... the paintings are completely different from when I was there in March for Lisa's birthday, so that was bizarre. Also I'd forgotten how expensive it was (£6.30 for a JD&coke and a vodka&pineapple!) but I'm probably too used to Wetherspoon's prices... Still, a pleasant evening of reminiscence and general nattering.

Barely any work here today but what there is has been urgent - typical. Must pay off first card payment tonight / tomorrow. I tried to do it online earlier but there doesn't seem to be an obvious manner of doing so, so I'll have to wait until tonight and check the back of the statement.

PS: In completely unrelated news, I'm trying to find some decent pictures of Justin Lee Collins; one of him grinning (maybe with two thumbs up) and one of him looking miserable. It's for an icon. Google were unfruitful. If anyone could help, that would be marvellous...
teylaminh: (Random - Wheel)
Well, everything server-related is working again this morning... except, of course, my email. I'm on BCCMail01. You'd think they'd fix the first server, um, first.

My slim hope that they might have extended the closing date on the job/s I was going to apply for - due to the website being non-functional yesterday - was dashed to the rocks. Having still heard nothing about the one in Legal, I'm really not holding out much hope. I'm hereby giving up on the finding-a-new-job front for at least another couple of months. It's not worth the bloody energy expenditure.

Amanda and Cynthia are on a minute-taking training day thingy today (hence the making-a-map on Monday) so it's just me and Sandra today. Oh, joy. I need to phone Tina H and tell her/ask her if I can have half of next Tuesday and all of Wednesday as flex/annual leave, since my email's blantantly not going to be accessible this side of 2007...

Also, wow, I'd forgotten how annoying getting three buses was. Which is really quite bad, considering I've only been getting the train into work (via town - the bus is marginally more reliable the other way) for about a week...

This morning I had a very strange dream; I can't be bothered to do another post about it, so I'll stick it under a cut. Here. )

--interlude--


Okay, Sandra just walked in. I swear the room just got physically colder... No, I'm not kidding.

---end---


Resume... )

The whole thing left me feeling quite uneasy, for some reason, probably because it didn't really end properly... COnsidering it was so fragmented, I'm surprised at how much I remember.

Sandra has now gone away again to minute a combined meeting for six children. And, as usual, she hasn't said a single word to me all morning. Ho-hum. At least I can do my work in peace without one of her annoying phonecalls going on in the background.

Oh, and this morning I was rung by Chris Wilson at Silvermere. He Chaired a meeting for us the other week and I typed the minutes for him yesterday and faxed them over (due to being without email) for amending. There was only one amendment, and he was incredibly impressed. My reputation now extends further. :)
teylaminh: (Edward - butterfly)
As I always say, there's nothing quite like having annual leave to make you appreciate not being at work.

Before I start ranting, however, I saw a ballet on Saturday )

I can't really say much more, as I think [livejournal.com profile] rachel2205's review of it said a lot more. Besides which, I'm tired.

I didn't get to sleep last night until about 12.45 - possibly, because I had a St John's Wort right before bed and my brain wouldn't shut up. I was then plagued with horrible dreams all night, which I mostly only remember residual images of: creating fireworks with pillar candles and chemicals and going to [livejournal.com profile] translucent's house to show her; teenagers being dismembered in horrible ways whilst on holiday; someone's eye popping out of its socket in graphic detail; myself only having one eye as a result; myself and Paul trying to get to a gig but apparently staying with my grandmother at her old house in Halesowen; taxi-ing to Paul's house to find it darkened and labyrinthine.

All quite disturbing and graphic, but oddly not scary. I subsequently woke up at 6.30 with my alarm and got up 20 minutes later after failing to get back to sleep again until 7.00. I'm not as tired as I probably should be, but I attribute that to the fact that I got about 11 hours of sleep on Saturday night.

So, yes, four days off work, and I return to a shitload of stuff on my desk, the majority of which is convening from Sandra. Obviously. One of them says "these must be sent out before the end of Monday 27th March" - well, I've been on leave. Surely if they're that urgent, it wouldn't have been impossible for her to get off her lazy arse and do them herself.

The board wasn't done, so I had to do that this morning, which involved copying it out twice because the printer's not working. I've still to sort through the other paperwork on my desk.

I've also spent the first 20 minutes of everyone's arrival hearing about their delightful hangovers after Friday night, which I am doubtless in the doghouse about because I didn't go - despite the fact that I texted Tina to ask her about details for it and got no reply. I'd spent four hours in town that afternoon doing shopping that should've taken about half that time and was exhausted.




On the plus side, there's a Union strike tomorrow, so nobody's coming in. I'll be buggered if I'm manning the office on my own. I'll lose a day's pay, but sod it. Day off, woo. Which works out quite well, as I'm going out tomorrow night.

Things.

Jan. 30th, 2006 10:23 pm
teylaminh: (Random - Me - meow)
Things that are Aggravating, Things that are Good, and Things that are Strange.

Aggravating
The fact that I've been trying to book tickets online for Jerry Springer: The Opera since lunchtime and our crappy BCC internet connection refuses to load the damn pages and so does AOL because it's a complete bastard.  I've asked my mother to book them for me tomorrow, but I'll try it again first thing tomorrow morning at work when the entire council and its dog aren't trying to access their online email or whatever.

Good
Despite both my Matalan and Amazon money being paid out of my account, I'm still £142 in credit.  But my rent and ticket-buying will kill that pretty swiftly, alas...

Strange
I had a dream about Harry Potter last night.  I would ordinarily filter my dreams but this one doesn't need much interpreting... though quite why I'm dreaming of Harry Potter, I don't know.  From what I remember, they were all in about their fifth year (they all looked about 16 or so, and this was movieverse) and had to undertake some kind of project, either in small groups or individually (that wasn't particularly clear).  Harry had, for some reason, asked Snape for advice on his project, and Snape had shown him to a Top Secret Room in a bit of the castle that only he had the key for.  There was a lock on the door that was specifically designed "to make sure the ghost was locked in", but I have no idea why... I've neve heard of a ghost-proof lock, either, but there we go.

So Harry found whatever it was he was looking for, and then Ron and Hermione came to look for him, and they were a couple... in fact, they were a very couply couple indeed.  Hermione was wearing a pale blue jumper, too.  I don't know why that's relevant, but it sticks in my memory.

I am quite confused by this dream because a) I'm not remotely obsessed with Harry Potter, as it's mostly just a passing interest and b) I don't know enough about it to even ascertain my favourite 'ship, though I understand that Ron/Hermione is a popular one.

So, yeah.  That was odd.
teylaminh: (Random - Trees)
So, yeah, I tried to do a proper update earlier, but the servers went down at work (again!) so the internet wouldn't work, so I couldn't post it.  Then I left the disc with it on at work so it'll have to wait until tomorrow.  Have a meme until then, stolen off Mara, Elle and Abi.

40 questions )

I had a dream last night that I forgot to put in the post I didn't bring home with me...  I was going to put it under the filter, but I wanted to share it with everyone.  I very rarely have nightmares (or, well, not by my standards; I think other people would be scared out of their wits by my dreams), especially ones where the fear lingers into consciousness, so that's why I want to share this one...

Gah. )

Right, I have to go buy stuff off Amazon now.
teylaminh: (Random - Clouds)
So, I had this dream last night, which was really vivid in my memory right up until the point when I was fully awake and trying to remember it enough to write it down, and which is now slightly fuzzy.

It was about - wait for it - Jeremy.  It's been a while, I have to admit.  And all I really remember other than in residual images was that I was in something, which turned out to be Sunset Boulevard, and I was apparently replacing Ceri Ann Gregory as Betty Schaefer.  On my first night, Jeremy wasn't performing, but nobody knew why, so after this really random section outside a stage door where all the regular stalker people were meet-and-greet-ing the rest of the cast, I snuck back inside to find out where he was.

And then I remember trying to convince him to carry on with the show, as he'd decided he wasn't going to because of one bad review.  There was lots of hugging, I believe, and lots of playing agony aunt.  (Of course, exactly why he'd be confiding in the 'new girl' rather than anyone else didn't cross my mind...)  And while all of this was going on, I was still staying with Vicky in a hotel in London, and our room was 366.  (Our actual room was 6066, and oddly enough, in the dream, I only went up three floors to get to my room instead of 6...)  She was out doing her own thing somewhere and I'd bought lots of clothing, including a white top covered in very shiny sequins, amongst others, and I couldn't go into the room because they were still cleaning it.  I texted her to say "Back at the hotel now but room is being cleaned.  Where are you?" - but I don't think I got a reply - and there was a Subway and a bar all on the third floor.  Very odd.

But yeah.  The bit with Jeremy was much more detailed and vivid and there was more to it, but now I don't remember it.  Which is annoying, actually, as it was quite a good dream.  Though it did remind me that it's been nearly two whole years since Little Shop and I still haven't managed to track him down.  Naturally, my plan to try and see everything in London doesn't have anything to do with this fact...

Anyway.  Graduation was yesterday and was quite a well-organised and pleasant affair, though it was somewhat odd running into people from the course.  Will post pictures of that and London later, if I remember.  I do still have another Most Haunted Live: Volume 2 DVD to watch, after all. ;)

I'm not looking forward to the enormous pile of work that awaits me on Monday morning.  At least I won't be bored...
teylaminh: (Random - Pirate!)
Yesterday was interesting.  Mundane, by most standards, but interesting.  My father texted to say that he wasn’t coming because he felt ill (which was good, because I was knackered anyway) so instead we went to Asda to get the beginnings of the Christmas food shopping, then watched Eastenders and lots of the other Sunday evening television.

We caught the apparent second part of an adaptation of Oliver Twist starring the ever-talented Julie Walters, Robert Lindsay (the bloke from My Family; he got a degree at Derby, y’know…) as Fagin, and Kiera Knightley.  It’s quite good, though seems to be not only adapting the book but adding things to it in the process.  One of the breaks showed the shortened trailer for the Phantom movie.  Eek.  It’s all big and cinematic.  I’m quite scared.

Anyway.  The hilarity happened mid-way through, when, having eaten far too many liquorice bootlaces (bought at Worcester’s Christmas Fair on Saturday) – strawberry-flavoured ones, at that – there was an advert for that new animated thing with Tom Hanks.  You know how they have to put warnings on everything now, like “Some violence, some slight terror”, that sort of thing?

Well, this is certainly a new one.  “Contains mild peril.”

Which, for some reason, I found completely hysterical, to the extent that it, combined with OMGsugarrush!, caused me to still be giggling about twenty minutes later.  Remember when you used to get the dreaded Giggles as a kid?  Yeah.  That.  Except when you’re 23, it really bloody hurts.  I would counter the “laughing is good for you” sentiment with the “but my stomach aches and I can’t breathe” argument…  The noises I was making could pretty much be equated to this:

Hahahahahahahaowwwwheeheeheeheeheeeowwwww… ow.  Ow. [comedic pause]  *snort* Pahahahahaha!”

For twenty minutes.  It was painful.

As to the people not sucking, we watched the last half of The Ultimate Film, with John Cleese, which was a poll of the 100 top movies, as determined by the actual statistics of people that saw them in the UK, rather than people voting.  We had a bet midway through with David, which we won, by half a point: I said that Titanic would be in the top 5 and it was in the top 10; we both said that a Disney animation would be in the top 5 [Snow White came third, which my mother’d also nominated as a film in the top 5 in its own right], I said The Sound of Music, which came second, and she said Gone With the Wind, which won.  So, it turns out that the actual movie-going public sucks less than I anticipated.  All three Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings films came in the top 50, some in the top 20.  But it just goes to show that the classics are still, after 70 years, top of the pile.  The day something beats Gone With the Wind in terms of production value, attendance, and popularity even twenty years down the line, I might regain my faith in Hollywood.

But until then, the majority of people still suck. ;)

Also, on Sunday morning, I had a vaguely Pirates of the Caribbean-related dream.  In it, Johnny Depp and Kiera Knightley were having a comment-tennis, only on paper, and in two separate rooms… but as their characters, in the comments.  It was confusing.  All I expressly remember is this weird bit wherein Kiera said “Do you think Jack meant those things he said?” – those things being shippy things, obviously – and then there was something with a metal hut on a beach (the sand was red near the hut and sand-coloured everywhere else) and something I don’t quite recall that was vaguely ominous, just as I woke up.  And now I have this wonderful line in my head that’s just dying to be a fic, somehow:

Jack: [sternly, warning her] I’ve killed more people than you can count, missy!
Elizabeth: [gives him a look]
Jack: Oh, all right, I’ve killed more people than I can count.  But that’s beside the point.

Probably quite inaccurate, but it amused me when it popped into my head. =)
teylaminh: (Random - Sunset tree)
Okay, I had this dream last night.  I'm sure I've dreamt it before, but aside from that, it's really, really familiar, and I'm posting about it here in case anyone else recognises it.  If not, then it's entirely of my own creation, and I'm going to write it as a children's book.

Anyone else recognise this? )

I'm loath to put any more in case I do end up writing it, as the rest of the dream was the plot I'd vaguely use.

Is that even remotely familiar to anyone else?  Not just familiar in the "oh, that's like Waterworld" sense, or whatever, but actually familiar for what it really is?  Because I'm sure I've read it somewhere or seen a cartoon of it or something.  Just trying to figure out if I have, or if I really did literally dream it up...
teylaminh: (Random - Clouds)
I've not been sleeping well the past couple of days, though not for any apparently obvious reason.  I just keep waking up at about 1am and finding it impossible to go back to sleep.  Which could account for my tiredness all of this week and the weird dreams I had last night...

Dreams. Not sure if I can put most of them into words, so bear with it. )

Yeah, it all made much more sense at the time.

Now, I have a dilemma.  I'm meant to be going somewhere with Aisha (randomly - whee!! Carmina Burana!) though I don't know what we're doing any more as the original plan was to see The Bourne Supremacy with her and Crystal, but Crystal's not coming... so we might be doing something else.  Anyway, she's going to bring all the details of her elective in LA, which I'm meant to be accompanying her on.  And it's April-May of next year.  Which I think is when I'm meant to be going to Athens with Vicky and her parents... though I'm not sure if that's been booked yet.

So, dilemma.  I'm not sure when Easter falls, or when the trip to Athens is, but I have a suspicion it's the month I'm meant to be going to LA with Aisha.  And if I had the choice between the two (LA being £100 more expensive, so I'm not bothered about that, as I was going to pay £500 for Athens anyway) I'd choose LA.

I mean, LAThe American one.  Aisha's giving me this fantastic chance to go with her for a month to a place - not the first city of choice, I'll admit - I've wanted to go to for as long as I can remember.  But Vicky's giving me a chance to go with her on a trip to Athens the likes of which I wouldn't ordinarily go on...  I don't want to let either of them down, and technically I did promise Aisha first, and Vicky knows I'm meant to be going to LA with her, but that was when it was still planned for June, and she wanted to go with me because her friend Laura was really annoying when they went on a tour in London and she doesn't want to fall out with her...  And I know that Aisha and I always ended up arguing on DofE when we had to share a tent, but that's because we're both bossy and it was stressful...  Gah, I don't know.  I mean, LA wins over Athens hands-down, but it's a case of which person I let down...

So, what do I do?  All opinions and suggestions gratefully accepted.  Just be glad I didn't give you the other dilemma I'm stuck in...
teylaminh: (Spuffy - with or without)
Today's entry, brought to you by Olivetti... )

Hee.  I love using the typewriter. It makes me feel like a real writer.  Also, see how bad my accuracy is?  It's really quite horrendous...

Oh, and this is what the beast looks like. )

(It's far prettier without the cover on, but pretty loud, too, so I don't want to contemplate the noise it'd make without it.  It has little Magic Roundabout rub-on transfers on it. :D)
teylaminh: (Trees)
It's been a strange morning, sleep-wise, all things told.  I didn't get to sleep until about 6.30am, and had left the curtains slightly open under the mistaken impression that when I finally woke up, the sunlight would at least drive me out of bed.  That plan consistently fails because a) I can't fall asleep in a room with annoying light in it (which is quite irritating at the moment, seeing as I need light to stop thinking about [livejournal.com profile] collie_wing's sodding haunted painting post, fake or otherwise...) and b) I'm really good at falling asleep after I've woken up, whether I need the sleep or not...

So, anyway, I set my alarm for 11.00.  Set it again for 11.45.  And 12.30. You get the idea.  And throughout all of this, I was plagued by exceedingly random dreams, only a couple of which I can remember in any vivid detail or make any sense of...

In one, I was looking out of the window, and there was a thunderstorm.  The sky was a deep, end-of-the-world-is-nigh blue, with purplish tinges, and I had the window shut so couldn't hear said thunderstorm, and only realised it was happening at all when a huge white fork of lightning came down from the sky and hit the ground.  A dark black cloud flew overhead with pin-pricks of light inside it, and it was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen...  Woke up from that one feeling quite odd...

The one after that was about me trying to get to work, probably because when I woke up at ten, I thought, I should probably just get up now, and then realised I'd be knackered at work if I did, not that I'm usually not, but anyway...  In the dream, I was getting ready for work.  For some reason, I was wearing my old black trainers (the wedge ones), and carrying my new bag, and come 7.20, I was still trying to get ready.  I remember looking out of the window and realising it was raining.  Everything was tinged dark blue, that is, not street-lamp-coloured.  I recall being quite happy about it raining, just because I always am when I have to walk somewhere. I'd rather walk in rain than sweltering heat, personally...

Anyway, somehow I managed to lose 25 entire minutes trying to sort out my jumper, which was refusing to cooperate or sit properly under my coat, so I thought I'd get a taxi because it would be quicker than running for a bus, and I was less likely to be horrendously late.  So I was walking, strangely, towards Friargate, but not from any of the usual roads, and higher up than I would need to be to get a taxi, and I knew this, but also recalled that taxis randomly stopped along that stretch anyway.  Everything was still blue-tinted.  While I was leaving halls, there were two or three blokes behind me chatting amongst themselves, one of whom had crutches (I have a vague recollection of seeing someone with crutches yesterday...) except he was using old-fashioned hooked walking sticks instead of crutches.  I couldn't walk fast because the backs of my legs were really, really aching.

(Side note, I have really vivid dreams when it comes to sensations; sometimes I wake up in pain in the same place as in a dream, which sort of implies the dream-pain is connected to muscle cramps.  Still, it's quite interesting...  The pinching-myself-to-see-if-it-hurts thing would never work with me; it'd still hurt, dream or not.)

I remember thinking that when I finally got to work, I'd be in no state to work anyway, but soldiered on.  I found a taxi, and got in, told him "Mickleover - the Vine" and asked him how much it would be.  He said £5.90 (not sure if that's accurate or not.  Probably is by the time they've taken traffic into account.)  The logic behind the taxi, you see, was that it wouldn't go all round the estate like the buses do, just straight up Uttoxeter Road, and thus, straight to the Vine.  Turned out my logic was flawed there...

The taxi became some kind of bus, in that were randomly lots of other people on it.  And it was suddenly daylight, and it was going in a route that was very similar to the one I used to travel to the Coopers Arms last year, around the local villages.  As it turned a corner, there was a house with a semi-burnt out roof, and I remember thinking I'd have to take some photos for [livejournal.com profile] urban_decay (residual from last night's unfinished tennis with Eni about life being dictated by LJ posts...)  As the taxi/bus rounded the corner, though, the other side of the house revealed itself, and there was a great big hole in the side of it, and the surrounding hillside/field, where there'd been some kind of explosion.  I mean, it was a huge black crater.  So everyone was looking to see what the heck had happened.

A Japanese bloke in front of me started talking to his (English) friend and telling him what had happened, but it became apparent he was actually describing random anime instead.

It got to Mickleover, and pulled up outside the Vine.  I paid my £5.90 (with a fiver and a pound coin) and he gave me a handful of change to sort through to get my 10p change; I remember not having time and hurling about 50p into my purse before legging it, and the driver saying "I've never seen anyone sort out 10p of coppers that fast before!"

So I got to work, and found Sue behind the bar looking frantic, having enrolled Shaun (his brother used to be the landlord before Steve) and some random punter to help out, despite the fact that there were only about two people actually in the place.  Sue lifted the hatch so I could get through to the back room, while I was muttering apologies, and I glanced at the clock to discover it was 4.30 (and I was meant to start at 4.00, which is obviously my brain's equivalent of 8.00) and apologised some more, and then the next thing I said was,

"Oh, great, I've left my-"

"...bag on the bus?"

At which point, she brought it through because the taxi/bus driver had found it and brought it in.  So, relief all around there...  She complimented the bag, and I got straight to work.  It turned out there was also some other random girl working there who'd been there longer than me, and actually slightly resembled either Naomi's friend Dee, or one of the girls I used to work with at the Coopers.  Anyway, instead of a dog, they had a cat (I think they do have a cat, actually... upstairs) and it was playing with... some kind of tray, managing to bounce on it like a pogo-stick.  We tried to stop the cat getting into the main bar, but it was so funny we had to let everyone see, so while the cat was bouncing around the room, and we were all giggling at it (and cat-owners know what cat-induced hysterics can be like...) the Evil Punter came to the bar.

He handed me a pint glass, and demanded two pints of the guest ales, the name of which I now can't remember.  Now, you know what it's like when you're horrendously late - you're flustered and your brain doesn't function.  So I started pulling the pint, before realising that a) it was Guinness (on the wrong side of the bar, and also on a pump, which was plain weird since it's on tap these days) and b) Shaun was apparently cleaning it, since there was the weird blue/green cleaning fluid coming out of it instead of beer.  At which point, I remembered him saying "Hang on a sec" and vanishing to the cellar.  Anyway, I moved onto the actual beer pump, and started pulling.  It was taking five times as long as it should have done, and was very hard work; generally, when the pump makes it hard work, you get accused of being bad at pulling pints, and no amount of plaintive cries of "It's the pump!!" seem to register.

So I pulled half a pint or so of this stuff, which was also really frothy so I had to let it settle, and started on the second one.  Evil Punter looked at me, and sayed "Well?"

I flapped about - metaphorically, because you can't flap when you pull pints, really - before realising he wanted to know how much it would cost, so I said, "Oh, uh... £2.31..."

He looked at the other half-pulled pint glass.  "Which makes..."

"£4.62. Sorry."

He plonked a tenner down on the bar after giving me a withering stare, and wandered off.  By the time he'd come back, of course, the damned beer had run out, which sort of explains the difficulty in trying to pull it, so I was looking for Shaun and apologising to Evil Punter, (who, of course, answered with "Typical!" as if it was my fault - side note, why do they think, when a certain regular beer is off, that asking for the landlord will miraculously make it appear?  It's off for a reason!)

And then more of the damn cleaning stuff started coming out of the bitter pump,some of which had ended up in the bloke's beer by this point due to aforementioned flusteredness.  The drip tray underneath was also full of foam, and I couldn't empty it into the sink because Shaun had plonked something else in there, and the other girl was tryng to juggle three trays-worth of dirty glasses with only two actual trays, and nowhere to put the extra dirty ones.

Somehow the Punter got his pints.  I took the tenner he put down and it took me three attempts to coordinate my fingers in the correct sequence for "4-6-2" (we don't have an itemised till, see; in all honesty, it's far quicker not having one, because you spend far less time on average looking for the damned buttons...) and another two attempts to find the "£10" button that would tell me what the change was, my brain not being in a fit state to figure it out by myself.

Naturally, I gave him the wrong change, and he gave me £1.05 back, "as expected".  He then followed this up by sitting on the barstool near the wall, sipping his pint, and saying, "You're just a bit thick, really, aren't you?"

To which I went into a tirade: "Look, I'm half an hour late, I'm flustered, we've got a new till with all the change in the wrong place, and just... just leave it, okay?" and stormed off into the other bar (where nobody was) before wandering back through to the glass-room bit, where the other girl asked if I was okay. I just said "He's such a complete bastard..."

That's all I remember.  It was very weird, though.  Luckily, we don't have any Evil Punters like him in real life.  There's the occasional few who ask you to top up their pint even if it's only got, like, a quarter-inch of head on it, but mostly they're quite friendly.

So, yeah.

Incidentally, Rachel, I'm trying to reply to your comment, but I'll say it here: glad you liked the cover, and I'll go look for my tape when the office opens in an hour.  Eni, I'll reply to your comment, too, when LJ cooperates...

That being said, here's hoping this posts...
teylaminh: (Phantom - harp)
I must write this one up before the residual images fade...

I don't quite recall how it started, but it involved a very large, very tall house.  But before the house, there was this whole other nearly-unrelated section...

Let's see.  It involved Alton Towers for a while, but that might have been later.  Damn. I hate trying to piece together bits of subconscious.  Um...  Well, anyway, the possibly-first bit involved me having a cold or some kind of fever, and because of the fever, I was delirious.  And at some point - whilst not that ill, it seemed - I'd scrawled something completely random onto a wall in green crayon (which I believe had something to do with Jeremy; oh dear, it's started again...) but that was then later attributed to my being ill with the fever.  Someone tucked me up in a sleeping bag on the floor and let me recover...

And then I was meeting some people for a meal; I think it was some girl and her date, but I don't really remember.  And the restaurant was outside with a canopy over it, like the ones you find in Greece...  That's all I remember of that bit.  I think the Alton Towers bit came before, then, since the restaurant bit led into the house bit...

The Alton Towers bit involved me and my grandmother trying to meet my mum outside Oblivion, except to get to each of the rides there was a bus service, and they were all lined up along this stretch of road (and resembled, quite ominously, a fun fair I used to dream about that was quite similar...) and we'd missed the stop, so we got off at the entrance and walked back, since Oblivion was the first ride there. (Because it is, in fact, quite close to the entrance in real life.)  And we were walking and somehow ended up lost in some underground bit that initially led to the toilets, but had these other random rooms leading off the tunnel, and everything was all yellow-lit...

I don't recall if we found Oblivion in the end, but I remember explaining to my nan that everyone tended to go for it first because it was near, but if you went to Nemesis (which is miles away) the queues were shorter at the start of the day...

Then, the house bit.  My word, that was bizarre.  It started out as a game, and it involved the people I was meeting at the restaurant, who seemed to own the place.  It had about 70 floors, and was in a state of disrepair.  For the game, they'd stick one person at the top of the building (it also hads lifts, as I discovered later) and have another one down on the bottom floor being held captive by the guy who owned the place, and then the point of the game was that the person at the bottom got frog-marched up to the top, whilst the person at the top had to run down the stairs and collect red and blue jewels along the way.  I remember, twice in a row, being the person who had to do the collecting, but I think I was a different person each time.  The stairs were grey and derelict, like in car parks...  There were lots of rooms off the staircases, bedrooms and bathrooms and things like that, though during the jewel-collecting I don't recall seeing them that clearly.

So after reaching the bottom (I don't recall if I won that round) they did it the other way - the person was frog-marched down the stairs to the bottom, and the other person had to run up 72 flights of stairs to the top, and once they'd got there, they were given a random floor number and had to get down the stairs again as quickly as possible, collecting jewels on the way, because that was the exit.  So when I got to the top (and passed the frog-marched person along the way, who was my friend) they told me to go to the 52nd floor, except I didn't know what floor I was on, and I lost count, but I launching myself down those stairs five at a time, swinging on the banister posts.  Some of the stairwells were blocked by boxes...

I lost.  Then we were all meeting in one of the living rooms, which was also in disrepair; there was a moudly sofa, where two ten-year-old boys (that sort of age) were sitting, and there was a stereo with two CD players in it playing some music, and at one point I was explaining the concept of recording music onto CD to them...  And they decided that my friend had to do the jewel collecting this time, but (because I was still recovering, apparently), they said I could stay behind and rest.  So I asked if I could explore the house.  They said I could.

This is when it got even more weird.  I started down the bottom, and I remember it being a sunny day outside.  There was a kitchen on the same level as the living room, which was vaguely green/yellow in hue, sort of plant-filtered light.  The other floors seemed to comprise only bedrooms and bathrooms, some in a better state than others.  One of the bathrooms was blue, I think.  There was a lilac-coloured bedroom, and another that seemed to be mine (in the dream), with all my things in it, though everything was covered in dust...  All of the rooms were arranged in a square 'U' shape around the stairwells, and from one of the bedroom windows, I could see out into the really quite small garden, where there was a children's party going on.  They'd set up a water-slide from a piece of blue piping and a hose, with a kiddy pool to land in, but they had to keep moving the kiddy pool because the piping wouldn't stay in one place.  I remember asking the house's owner what was going on, and I think they just explained it was a party.  Along the bottom edge of one of the 'U's was a sort of... tent set up along the wall (a white canopy with curtains that drew closed) with camp beds inside, because it was a sleepover...

I was given a tour, too, going up in glass lifts as well as using the stairs, as they explained where the rooms where and what they were for, and where there were obstacles on the stairs.  I remember saying that I was going to start at the bottom and count the bedrooms, but they told me not to because I'd lose count...

That's really all I remember, but it was incredibly bizarre.  I dreamt something else as I was drifting in and out of consciousness, too, which I think was Buffy-related, but that's gone completely now.  Hm...

Pretty!

Jun. 2nd, 2004 02:50 pm
teylaminh: (Default)
Or, why BeX should go to bed before 5am...



Sunrise, at 4.30am.  It's just a shame I'm not far enough around to see the sun.  If I didn't fear insect invasion, I'd see what the view's like from the kitchen...

Edit, 15.39: I just remembered. I had a dream where I got my dissertation back (like I'd get everything else back - in my drawer, with tutor comments on the front) and Dave'd given me a "Ga" (I guess that's my brain's equivalent of an Fm) and there was all these things on it saying "Now, look, don't get me wrong. I liked this. But..." Laura (at work) dreamt she got a third. I'm hoping it's some unconscious response to that.

Maaaaa!!

(Then again, I've never been prophetic before now...)
teylaminh: (Oblivion wheels)
So, livejournal informs me it's [livejournal.com profile] krispen's birthday, so

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!



to her. :)  Also a belated one to Katie, but I email/texted hers already...

Now for the dream.  You know when you just have lots of unrelated bits of dreams that somehow seem to make sense when they go together, but then don't in the slightest when you think about them later?  Yeah, it was one of those...  Also, I would like to stress that parts of this are in no way an indication of my conscious mental state. :)

This is a long one... )

Nothing much else to say...  Now I should probably make Vicky's CD...
teylaminh: (Spuffy - with or without)
A shame, really, that said ending wasn't for any actual episode of anything.  Specifically Buffy.  Not that "Chosen" wasn't Spuffy enough.  Or, well, it wasn't, really, but considering everything that had happened up to that point, and the previous year, we couldn't have asked for much more, and with the inclusion of Angel, Joss put himself into a really bad, on-the-brink-of-fan-warfare place.  I digress.

A dream.  As you may read, though it takes a while to get to the Spuffiness )

Spuffy, Spuffy, Spuffy!  Wow, I woke up feeling all warm and fuzzy and shippy, and sorta peaceful. My subconscious loves me.  The best part is, the dream even allowed me to rewind (literally) the final Spuffy moment in the 'credits' so I could watch it again, which, as far as I can remember, I've never been able to do before.

Also, somehow, I don't know when, I have to turn it into a fic.  Purely because the imagery was so rich and it was so completely uber-fluffy.  In fact, Cut because it spoils the ending of the sequel to my current fic, and hence the current one, too, and also because you don't care. )

Wow, but that was a long entry.  I just made Eni a certified fangirl in the subject area of Stage Door Lurkage (literally).  I don't know if that's a wise plan considering she's seeing Aly Hannigan tonight... :)
teylaminh: (Buffy - sanity)
I am hereby actually obsessed with Most Haunted.  I had a dream about it last night.  Or rather, I had a dream about Derek Acorah...  Um.  I think I was with other people, one of whom was Aisha and I don't know who the other was, and we'd gone to see the show, which was done rather like an interactive audience experience thing rather than being filmed, edited, and broadcast as it actually is.  Except we got there late and managed to catch the very end of it, and them finishing up.  But then we managed to catch Derek as he was wandering back to some other bit of the set.  And this is when it started to look very much like a theme park, because it'd got a souvenir shop and he was apparently assigned to work the tills that day...

So we followed him in, and it looked a lot like my grandmother's old house as we're leaving the set - there was a set of stable doors and then two steps down onto a patio, with a little flower garden between it and the grass...  But anyway, that was a random remembrance.  We followed Derek, and since it was a non-busy day (it was a Wednesday), he decided to give us a free psychic reading to establish if any of us had any psychic ability.  The person-who-I-don't-remember wasn't psychic in the slightest, I was a little bit, and Aisha, it turned out, could be a medium she was so psychic.  Then they had to go home because they had trains to catch, and since I didn't (maybe it was in Derby?) I stayed behind and chatted to Derek for a bit, and I remember telling him about the ghost cat we had at the house on Reginald Road, plus all assorted odditites (specifically, it walking up the bed and blowing in my mum's face, and the incident with the falling pipe box that seemed intent to kill me...) which he was very interested in.

And then - this is when it gets fun - he invited me to the next show, which was on a Friday in Newcastle, because he had two tickets to get rid of left over from some competition or something.  Frell knows why that's relevant; it doesn't even make sense in the context of the 'theme park' vibe I was getting.  Anyway, he invited me, and asked if I could make it.  I said I probably could, but I'd have to get the night off work, and it depended on what time it finished since I didn't know anyone from Newcastle.

This bit seemed to be late at night - well, it was after the show, so that makes sense - so I was in a rush to get everything sorted, and part of me was hoping if I made enough excuses he'd offer to drive me in his snazzy white sportscar (well, according to the website...) but I knew that wasn't polite of me so I was desperately trying to sort things.  There was this weird section with a hotel where I had to phone them on a special mobile phone that I'd never used, and when she asked for the number, I didn't know it;  the receptionist girl told me the number was on the cover of the phone, and it turned out that to work out what it was, you had to find a word on the front (mine said "WAIL") and then take all the letters of that word out of the random letters on the phone - sort of like how you text, only not in any logical order - to find out what the ringtone was... it was confusing, but that's the best way I can explain.)  So by the time I'd figured it out, she'd hung up on me.

And then, for some reason, in my mental unconscious map of Britain, I decided that Newcastle was really close to Manchester, so I could go and invade Eni's floor.  So I phoned her up (on the special phone, and she still knew it was me, strangely) and we had a conversation that was something along the lines of:

"Hi, BeX."

"...Hi.  Um, this won't take long and I'm in a rush, but I need somewhere to sleep on Friday night, so could I stay at yours?"

*long pause, where I can hear her scratching her head*  "I suppose so, but why?"

"I'm going to be in Newcastle and you're closer."

And that's... nothing like it, but that's the general vibe I got from it.  So, that being all sorted, I said to Derek that yes, I could come to the show on Friday.  And he told me I'd get preferential treatment because they were front row tickets.  So, yay for that.

Then there was this weird flashforward part where I was trying to figure out what time the last train from Newcastle to Manchester was, and trying to look on a map to remember the name of the station that was down the road from Eni's house so I wouldn't have to make her come and get me...

Then I was at the show, with Naomi, and it turned out to be on a Thursday, but I'd not had time to phone into work and ask for the night off - then, as it turned out, Steve and Sue were at the show, so I didn't have to.  In any case, I apologised to them profusely and they said it was okay.  All I remember of the show itself was, um, riding on an elephant with about five other people all sitting on top of each other, with someone on my lap, and then... doing a charity thing where I had to walk and talk with a boy from Zimbabwe with two wooden legs who couldn't see, then filling in random questionnaires that involved mis-pronunciations of the word 'transvestite'... and Becky Kelly, who was in my year at school, turned up completely at random.

Also, I remember buying pens from the souvenir shop that cost me £7.20...

Wow.  Okay, the ending was weird.  But the Derek-Acorah-inviting-me-to-the-show section was kinda cool.  Also, I slept oddly on my right shoulder and now it hurts...

I need to make a Most Haunted icon...

Oh, God...

Mar. 31st, 2004 05:00 pm
teylaminh: (Labyrinth)
I just realised something.

See, there are three tenor voices that make me dissolve into a pile of goo.  Michael Ball is one of them, and Jeremy's another (and that, out of all the other things, is one of the reasons the whole him-thing started; there are really not that many singing voices that can make my insides dissolve, hence, instant idol-status for anyone that can...) and, of course, Michael Crawford is another.  And, okay, James Marsters, but only at the con singing Rest In Peace a capella, and I don't even have the evidence of that since it's not on the video... bastards.  But yes. Only three.  Jeremy and the two Michaels.

And I'd completely forgotten.

And I'm seeing him live in October. Note that word.  Live.  Not recorded.  Live, in-the-flesh in theatrical surround sound, and in the fifth row. And possibility of actual meetingness at the stage door, which I don't even want to contemplate at the moment, because it's too terrifying a concept.

Do we think perhaps I should warn the theatre in advance that there'll be a melted-me mess to clearn up?  Because really, this is not going to be pretty.  At Little Shop, it took every ounce of my self-control not to whimper and generally make a scene.  I'm going to have to take a gag, or something.

Anyway, while we're on the subject, I dreamt I was at The Woman In White last night... except nobody could follow the plot, and for some reason he was playing Lorne, and then he was signing things in some random conference room upstairs in the theatre after a cast-and-crew Q&A about the show, and I was trying to get something signed for Angela (going to be part of the plan anyway) and he ended up writing these random essays along with the signature.  He seemed to be a nice bloke, in any case.  And then there was this weirdness with Kat from 'Stenders and... Dave Brottman, who lived in a falling-down tower near the sea which we thought was deserted, and... yeah, that bit didn't make much sense.

But I'm blaming it on Eni, anyway, because of last night's/this morning's comment tennis.  And that's also why I'm listening to Michael Crawford anyway, so I can transcribe the Gene Kelly and Phantom anecdotes...
teylaminh: (Freedom)
Yeah, I know, they're never that interesting.  Look, do you want these or the ones about y-k-w again?  Right. Thought so. :P

So. Buffy dream.

Before I do, however: my subconscious has a landscape all of its own.  It has a little world that the dreams inhabit.  Parts of it claim to be real places.  I know this because I've dreamt about them before, and they re-occur.  There's a bit that's like Greece, or Ancient Rome, with lots of ruined stone architecture.  There's the great wooden tower, whose actual construction still hasn't been revealed to me entirely.  There's swimming baths; there's a round, bottomless pool set deep into Grecian rock; there's a whole system of underground tunnels; there's a theatre; there's a place that seems to be Devon, or possibly Dover, or some combination of the two; there's a city, with a great, glass tower block; and there's a garden.  That's just the start of it.  Trying to map it is impossible, though, because the places are completely unrelated geographically and physically, only tenuously linked.

(The dream with Aisha and Crystal the other night, I believe, actually happened in the wooden tower, now I come to remember properly.)

So, last night's Buffy dream happened in the place that claims to be Devon.  And, as usual, it would make a very good (admittedly fantasy) fic could I remember all of it.  Not all of the characters were there; Buffy and Spike were there, as were Willow and Tara, and quite possibly Anya, but I think that's it.  And I was there, though at one point I was Buffy (even though I was talking to her at the time...)

Anyway.  Aside from being in Devon (my subconscious was very specific about this matter) and mostly outisde, there was also a house.  Which I've also dreamt about before.  Only now it's gottten bigger.  It only seems to have one staircase, though, which implies the damn thing's only getting taller... but the house was a very important aspect of the dream.  There was an enemy character (who was male, but that's all I remember) and... there was an aeroplane.  The first random section I remember was being in a car, driving along Devon-esque roads (only there weren't such high hedges) and said plane flying low above the ground right over the car.  It later turned out that the enemy person had a plan where he was shipping (or flying) out various people to somewhere, whilst keeping the other half locked in a big gothic house (which rather oddly resembles the big gothic pirate caves that I dreamed about the other night.  How bizarre.)

Enter the Buffy cast, apparently on holiday or just there for some reason that must have made sense at the time.  And the next random section, where they - or we, since I was there, but they didn't seem to be that I noticed - were exploring said house.  There was a boy there who was either Gus from EastEnders or Gunn from Angel.  We were exploring every room.  Then, on reaching the top floor, I think Xander was there because he was complaining in case they all got killed.  On the top floor, the room opened up into a big, white, wooden deck type area, that was open to the elements and build partway into the cliff face, which had a slight incline down to a beach, where there were six motor boats docked.  These boats, apparently, proved what we'd all suspected from the beginning, that the enemy-type man was indeed shipping half of his guests (? - that made sense in my head) out to who knows where.  They'd be put on the boats, shipped to the opposite beach (it was quicker than going by road, apparently) and onto the aeroplane.  The other half got imprisoned.

Then someone apparently spotted us, and we scrambled up the cliff.  My flatmate Lydia was there, and she was lagging behind, and because we slowed down and the sand was shifting beneath our feet, we got caught, and had the privilege of being the last to board the plane, which was apparently the worst punishment, the lack of available seats meaning that the final few boarders needed to sit around the edges, like on a boat.  This is more or less where I remember it to the end.

There was a whole bit missing when we were on the boats.  After the boats was a long trek over the Devon hills to the plane.  The hills were very green, and yellow, with dry-mud gaps where there should have been hedgerows.  The sky was a brilliant pale blue, but there was no sun.  I've dreamt of these hills before; the last time, they were in a dream with the theatre (though it was small, then, too; it's grown since) and underground tunnels, and the mad rabbit guy from The Red Thread...

Then I was Buffy, and also talking to Buffy - I think I'm starting to figure out that this is the subconsious equivalent of writing a third person story from the perspective of one character - and... she was walking arm-in-arm with Willow, who had split with Tara earlier in the proceedings over something.  I remember her saying, "I'm so sorry, Will, this was all my fault." - the fact that they'd gotten caught and couldn't get out of it.  Then they passed the other half of the guests, as they were being ushered into the big gothic house, and - of course - Spike was there.  He was part of the group, and the same punishment applied to the house people, too, being last to go in.  Buffy/me/whoever broke off from Willow for a moment saying that she'd catch up, and ran over to attract Spike's attention, whereby they hugged and got all the goodbyes over with in the few seconds they had left before they got seperated.  She told him she loved him, and it was almost the opposite of 'Chosen', in that he acted like he believed her.  It was gloriously angsty, but kinda hard to describe any other way.  Then he got dragged off and Buffy ran after Willow to catch up.  They were talking about something; at that point, Tara went past with Dawn (?), talking about the time apart from Willow and how she didn't want it to be that way any more, and that she'd gone out with someone else very briefly during their split.  Willow overheard; she was then in tears, sobbing to Buffy that she'd remained faithful, and it wasn't fair.  Which Tara overheard (she was rather loud...) and Buffy told Willow to go and talk to Tara (for some reason, it was important that they all remained together, which is why they were walking in twos.)

Then Buffy was talking to possibly-Anya, saying "I told him I loved him.  And you know...?  I think maybe I do."  Which just made it even worse, even though she seemed to be at peace with the situation.  They were, in fact, the last to board the plane, which was now looking more like a ferry...  There was a strange bit where Buffy threw an empty bottle over a balcony section, resulting in a scream from below, but nothing came of it other than that...  They were flying low over the roads and hills, and Buffy was looking for the gothic house in hopes that she could see Spike and wave goodbye, but it was nowhere to be found.

And that was pretty much it, since that's when I woke up.

It was just one of those dreams that left me with such a feeling, I had to write it down.  However, I then figured out how it might have ended, and the significance of the empty bottle (other than, maybe, it having something to do with Eni...)  See, the reason the house and the plane were so full is that they had to be filled to capacity or the enemy person's boss would say he hadn't met his quota of captives.  So every last seat needed to be filled.  So, by throwing the bottle, Buffy had managed to possibly kill the person it landed on.  So then they'd have to go and get someone from the house to fill the plane quota (I think the house was less important because it could just be filled up when the next few people arrived) which would, of course, be Spike, because he was the last one in.  Or something.  It made sense when I thought it, anyway.

So, that was that.
teylaminh: (Truth)
although i'm probably only more aggravated by this because i'm in one of those moods where every tiny little thing pisses me off beyond reason.

fucking angel is being fucking cancelled. which shouldn't annoy me, per se, because i'm not exactly an angel fangirl or anything. but it's yet more proof that the decent stuff gets dumped for no apparent reason. one day, when the channels are populated by reality shows and soaps and horrible made-for-TV movies, and production companies are clamouring for something new, original and clever, you know what the creators should do? they should all live together in a cave somewhere and keep their ideas to themselves, and show them only to an elite few. they should start their own television channel to show things on, and only tell a few people about it on pain of death if it gets leaked. they should bring out DVDs and videos for only those who appreciate it.

that's what they should do.

because now, you see, there's no farscape (because, despite the fact that there'll be a mini-series, i somehow suspect that the liklihood of the bbc a) knowing this and b) getting a hold of it before, say, sky one or scifi UK does, is very slim indeed. in some ways, i really wish sky had gotten a hold of it in the first place; at least it might have been advertised to an adequate degree and gotten the recognition it deserved.), and there's no buffy, and no x-files, and after this year no more angel and no more frasier, and without caroline quentin, jonathan creek's not even as enjoyable as it used to be. (yes, i'm hung up on that. live with it.) there's no decent trek - i'm sorry, enterprise is bloody unwatchable - and i gave up on friends a while ago. i've never watched er or 24 and i don't really want to start now. i keep meaning to watch stargate but continually miss it, and feel bad about that as it is because it was 'scape's main rival on scifi US.

the only decent thing to watch - the only thing i can even vaguely imagine myself getting obsessive over - is the recent dead like me. it's utterly fantastic. there are several problems with this:

1) it'll never go mainstream. sky one hyped it, because that's what sky one do. if it gets to terrestrial at all, it'll end up on channel four and be shown at some ungodly hour, and will then get low ratings and not be brought back.

2) there is a proposed second series in the pipeline to be filmed this june. promising? maybe. but we know how fickle these production companies are. as soon as they need the money for something else it'll probably get axed. and why...?

3) ...because it's probably too clever for the majority of audiences to understand. farscape: case in point...

4) it'll never go mainstream beyond sky because it has swearing in it. lots of swearing. by - shock! horror! - minors. and it's about death, and it's a comedy. the poor sensitive british public will complain, more so if the bbc get their grubby paws on it. it's a catch-22. if the bbc get it, it'll be confined to bbc2 at a timeslot too early for its content, and it will get edited to death with a chainsaw and sellotape. failing that, it'll remain as it is meant to be, and be shoved to a 2am slot where nobody can watch it. or it'll end up on channel four, where the same problem remains - remember what they did with angel? (oh, look, we've come full circle...)

star trek nearly got axed.
roswell nearly got axed.
buffy nearly got axed.
farscape got axed.
the lone gunmen got axed.
randall and hopkirk (deceased) got axed (admittedly the new version, which was apparently crap, but i liked it...)
firefly got axed.
angel is getting axed.

do we sense a pattern here?

this rant isn't even going anywhere particularly sensible. i just had to get it off my chest. and while i'm at it, here's some other unrelated rants that you probably shouldn't read if you value friendship )

my sleeping pattern's frelled again; you can probably attribute this post to that fact. i am cursed by random images from dreams i never remember in their entirety...

last night, i dreamt i had a conversation with aisha. we were in the audience of some kind of ceremony, and beforehand, i'd said something that led into us having tearful confessions whilst being shushed by the other audience members, and my hugging crystal a lot. i can't remember exactly what i said, now. it related to gemma - as these things often do; i swear, when i'm in therapy, she'll be the cause of all my trust issues - and i think it was something along the lines that because of her abandoning our friendship, i was seeking revenge by hurting my remaining friends - crystal and aisha in the dream - by putting up a facade that wasn't really me. and for some reason, this really hurt aisha, and she was determined to talk it through with me. possibly i'm imagining that one of them said, "so we've all been living a lie where you're concerned? is that what you're telling me?" but i do remember aisha and i both being in tears (in the audience), and i was saying "please, can we not talk about this now? please..." and she said, "no, i have to know." and then there were apologies, and crystal was trying to find out what happened, and i was hugging her like she'd disappear if i let go...

last night, i dreamt i drowned. i was in a pool, i believe, and i was too deep, and i was climbing to the surface, but then my lungs couldn't hold any more, so i let out the breath i was holding and then breathed in, and as the water filled my mouth and throat and lungs i couldn't see the surface any more and just started to sink. it was so vivid; thinking about it now, it scares me a little that it was so very peaceful when it happened, and that i didn't even panic...

last night, i dreamt i gave [livejournal.com profile] thefleshfailure birthday cake. it was blue and white, with silver candles, and red writing icing. she ate the icing from around the edge (all ornate and piped, the likes of which is beyond my skills), and the chocolate fudge filling, and saved the cake for later. i said, "oh, you..." at her, and then we wandered off. and then she was at my house (at home), having stayed the night for some random reason (i'd even relinquished my bed and slept on the futon for the night; clearly, my subconscious is a better hostess than i) and my mother had put yellow voile curtains in her room just like those in mine, and all the furniture had moved. the walls were painted cream, and there were flowers on the bedspread. it was a glorious summer's day, with late evening sun pouring through the window from utterly the wrong angle to reality, birds singing in the trees, and i said, "doesn't it make the room so much warmer?" and she agreed, smiling, and everything was right with the world.

last night, i dreamt in symbolism, and i pre-empted the hours to a somewhat scary degree... i'm not entirely sure what to make of the dreams. happy? sad? meaningful? or the confused ramblings of a mind that thinks too much?

i should stop finding things out. i hereby decree i shall live in a dark room for the rest of my life...
teylaminh: (Jealous Vampire Crap (animated))
had another buffy dream last night. would make a very interesting fic if i could remember it...

it was very bizarre, now i come to think about it. most of it took place in a house, which was possibly buffy's, but also possibly not. and i remember the following characters being there: buffy, spike, willow, tara, giles, and andrew. probably some others, but they weren't important.

now, i know it had a plot at one point. and i remember (frighteningly) that spike appeared to be wearing a terrifying green anorak/parka type jacket. with a big shazza pocket on the front. we won't dwell on that. :) um. it seemed to be an episode. and i think they were... trying to trick buffy? possibly. i know that i saw the 'trick' twice over, once from buffy's point of view, and then again from everyone else's, so i knew how it was done. and she was pregnant, and it was meant to be spike's, or that's what she wanted him to believe, and he was being aloof and trying to pretend he didn't want anything to do with her. (badfic, ho!) she wasn't obviously pregnant. i think she'd just found out...

ah! yes! and then giles made them take a vote on whether or not she should keep it (because it was spike's...) and... she voted for 'yes', as did tara, willow sided with giles' 'no', and then spike finally voted for 'yes', and caused buffy to leap on him with a hug. though he pushed her off afterwards. this was apparently a good thing, though, a sort of defining step between the two of them, and buffy was happy about it...

and then there was this random bit where they were all sat at the dinner table, and they were trying to figure out how old spike was (which i think i was doing before i fell asleep, which could explain it...) and, for some reason, andrew was a vampire, too. and he was about 1000 years old. hm. except then they were like "you're not a vampire, nimrod..." which was weird...

anyway. then it was me, and i was upstairs in my room at home. and i thought we'd moved house, but all my furniture was in my room, and the room looked bigger, and then i realised we hadn't moved house at all. so i turned on the computer, all set to turn the manicness of the buffy dream into a fanfic (ye gods, my entire subconscious is post-modern...) and then it was christmas eve. and i was living with my grandmother.

somehow we ended up in an argument about something, that then turned into me trying to tell her that buffy wasn't anti-christian (or some such), which she wouldn't listen to. and i believe i was trying to explain because we were having spike over for dinner (hey, wouldn't that be fun?) but in the end we agreed to disagree and i went upstairs to sulk. and then i was trying to text him (?) or at least someone, to say please could i go around there for dinner instead because i didn't want to stay at home. and then she came upstairs and we attempted apologies, and after that i don't remember much. although i do remember gushing a lot about buffy and how it was more than 'some girl killing things'...

wow. bizarre.

wish i could remember the episode part properly, though. would make interesting ficcingness...

also, on the plus side, it turns out purging of any kind - including the projectile-vomiting-of-bodily-fluids kind - is generally rather good for you, as i'm feeling much better today. i was all full of the joys of spring this morning, but less so now it's gotten dark...
teylaminh: (Book)
party

well, it was actually quite nice. laura and naomi (jemma and becky's friends) did come, bearing their pizzas; hence, we had rather a lot of plates of sandwiches (think four) between three of us, plus sausage rolls and crisps (which - ha! - did get eaten) and the cake that i made (more on that later) and rice krispie cakes, amongst others. so needless to say there are lots left... anyway, we played that game where you stick a post-it on someone's head, and then have to guess who you've got on your own head. (i ended up as madonna - and no, i did not cheat - and jim carrey respectively...) after that the party sort of disbanded to jemma's room, so me and vicky and the other laura went to vicky's room and drank what remained of the alcohol. and watched "stitch - the movie", which is apparently hilarious at 2am when you're drunk... (hence, most of the comments i replied to last night happened in a semi-tipsy state...)

anyway. the cake. well, the chocolate cake worked better than the other one, but they both sank (which is partially the fault of the oven, i realise, since the gas marks aren't labelled so i'm pretty much guessing where gas mark four is...) i put the chocolate one on the bottom, spread it liberally with vimto jam and chocolate fudge (which was rather thick because it's meant to cover and fill a cake, not just fill it) and then put the vanilla cake on top of that and the remains of the fudge. then i set about making satin icing for the First Time Ever.

amazingly, it worked. it was a little dry, but after some liberal kneading and punching it all stuck together. then i tried to dye it red. oh dear. oh dear, oh dear. see, we have this paste food colouring, which is marvellous stuff. but have you ever tried colouring icing that you've already mixed? remember when you tried to make orange plasticine at school from red and yellow by blending it? think along those lines... in the end i got a sort of dark salmon pink that looked red enough to be red. and i looked like i'd committed a bloody and horrific murder with my bare hands...

they're still very slightly pink, to be honest. anyway, then began the very fun task of trying to roll it out. suspecting it might dye the table, i tried icing-sugaring my cutting board. it stuck tot he cutting board. same was true of tinfoil. eventually i managed to spread it out on clingfilm, but by this stage it had dried out, so i'd added water which made it go gloopy so i had to add more icing sugar and the kitchen looked like it had been snowed on, and get it on the top of the cake. except it was too dried out to cover the whole thing, so it ended up with a sort of... hat... of icing.

then i decorated it (the best bit) with mini-meringues and writing icing and made it very pretty.

the general concensus was that it was a) edible and b) rather nice. so that's something... picture of the cake and the table coming later...

moving on.

dream

it's been a while since i had a good vivid (and bizarre) dream to type up. parts of this i barely remember, and parts i remember very well indeed (you won't be surprised by which parts, trust me...) and it left me feeling alternately warm and fuzzy and utterly terrified...

what i remember of the beginning is lisa and bart simpson, very briefly. also showers. and the playing of CDs. this section did have a plot, of sorts, but i only remember fragments of it now. but i do remember that bart and lisa turned up right at the end of the first section, which led into the next section by the fact that they were both servants in a grand house, and their job was to clean the showers...

the next section was the servants. there was a mixed bunch of them. the 'leader', or the one who seemed to be ordering the rest around, anyway, looked a lot like my heather character from the first novel-that-never-was, only... more bossy... there was also an old butler/gardener type person of the riff-raff sort of appearance, and other maids, etc, one of whom was me. except this was one of those dreams where i was alternately watching it, or jumping from character to character, so for a while i was one of the maids, and briefly i was the leader character. oh, and there was also a bloke who looked like westley from the princess bride, who seemed to be the love interest for the heather-character... wow, this was more confusing than i thought...

anyway, the guy who ran the house was ranting completely randomly that his rooms were Private, and that the staff shouldn't have gone in there without his permission (despite being told to clean everywhere...) - and the heather character, it seemed, had a temper as volatile as her master's, so they were arguing about it, and he said that "the house is my place!", to which she said that the garden and grounds were theirs, to which he slammed the door. so she locked him out of the garden.

then the house and garden started to look exactly like my nan's old house, and all of the servants were living in the garden shed... and they were rapidly running out of food. shades of orphan eyes, i feel... anyway, it was one of the maid's birthdays - the one i was 'playing', it seemed - and her other half was on his way to bring gifts and more food. at this stage, i start to think possibly this maid was buffy, because when the person turned up, it was, of course, spike.

he came with the following: a carrier bag, containing (apparently) the kittenspike picture (*ahem*) and various cards from family, etc, and two fresh chickens for the people to eat. as you do. and then the person-who-i-was-who-was-possibly-buffy was hugging spike to death because they'd missed each other. i wonder, is it wrong i can still remember exactly how cuddly james marsters was? ;)

anyway, since he was staying (well, obviously...) they were trying to sort out sleeping arrangements (if the person was buffy, it seems a rather pointless exercise... :D) then there was this very, very bizarre section where the guy who looked like westley was watching possible-buffy-person and spike snuggling in the back garden (aw...) and being jealous because the heather-character wasn't as willing to snuggle. or something. it was odd, anyway.

but cuddling spike was nice ;)

after that... oh, yes. i was dawn, or somebody dawn-like, and i was in a car with a bloke who looked like danny de vito, and i was testing him on hair-styling tips. very weird. he was doing rather well, frighteningly enough. and then i noticed that we were driving towards the NEC, and that it was the beginning of december, which meant we were going to the clothes show...

we got there and then danny de vito turned into spike again (now the thought of spike and dawn going to the clothes show is making me giggle. i may actually have to turn that into a fic...)

and then it got very scary... there was some mad woman there who seemed to have it in for me and everyone else there. i remember her hacking some girl's hair off who was getting a style done at the show, and then there was this very disturbing section where she was attacking me and i had to get the scissors off her and cut off her fingers...

meep.

but yeah, that was it. can still envisage cuddling spike, which is in turn very nice and unspeakably cruel to my psyche. gah. i need to read some fluff, now...

*dances*

Dec. 2nd, 2003 12:20 pm
teylaminh: (Smile!)
i emailed this to a couple of you already, but here it is for everyone else:

WE SAVED FARSCAPE!!

power to the people! (even though all i did was sign a couple of petitions, but still, i did follow the campaign ardentlyish and was as irate as everyone else that it got axed, especially after That Finale.)

see, i knew kemper would get us the ending. i just knew it.

with many thanks to her most high imperial deific and worshipped being, the all-knowing dulcima ;), aka [livejournal.com profile] sweeterthing, for the link. hurrah! i have four more hours of geekdom to watch! my life is not over! yayyyy!

anyway. i need a haircut rather desperately, and the campus place appears to be closed again. everywhere's closed lately. including the very useful scoop-n-save place where i get cheap ingredients from. bah. so, yeah... i need to walk back, now, and try to get an appointment somewhere else...

i don't think there's anything else of much interest... can't remember if i mentioned about buffy getting a place in the 100 top sexy moments in the channel four poll, and if i did, i apologise, and if not, well, there it is. much whooping and squealing and "yay buffy!" did ensue, although i got rather irritated by the silly UK magazine editor lady not having a clue what she was on about, and the fact that they attributed its position in the list as entirely down to sarah michelle gellar. um. hello? james marsters is way prettier... :P (it was the... building sequence from 'smashed', incidentally... although i would argue the dream sequence in 'dead things' was kinkier.)

i'm shutting up now...

see, this is what happens when we have jeremydreams on sunday night and spikedreams on monday night... and unfortunately, i barely remember either of them. except that the former was overseeing an exam (like at school, wandering between the rows of students) and i ended up throwing a pencil at him, and he was in a house with some random bodyguard trying to keep him out of the public eye despite the fact that nobody but me knew who he was. clearly, i'm dangerous. and all i remember of the spike one is an argument with someone who may have been flat-vicky over a picture of him. i think.

wow. coherence. don't you love it? yay for three hours sleep...

i'm going, now. hair appointments must be made, rehearsals must be attended (i'm going "to be used" for the solo, apparently. bugger my bloody inner exhibitionist...) and... i guess work should be done. maybe i'll try and read trainspotting. if i start posting in scottish dialect, you'll know why.


and did i mention YAY! for farscape yet?
teylaminh: (mask)
oh! forgot!

again with the bizarre dreams, and having been getting reacquainted with season one of the x-files (amongst other series, such as buffy season 4, farscape season 1, roswell and beverly hills, 90210, of all things) it's prompted my brain to have another x-related dream, which hasn't happened properly in years...

let's see...

last night, i watched 'miracle man' (it's amazing how different they seem when you don't just skim to the good bits. that's partially why i'm re-watching them all.) and the dream was, apparently, the same episode, except, naturally, it didn't bear any resemblence. there was this entire section where the case turned personal for scully, because she knew the dead person. aforesaid dead person was the mascot for a sports team - the sport, from what i could ascertain, took place in a large swimming pool that was either in space or just very high up (heh. water-quidditch. :D) but whatever it was, the mascot was dressed as a large, red... thing. and it died by getting caught on a large wave and being tossed over the side of the pool. and for some reason, scully had been there.

anyway, whatever the reason, she was traumatised by the experience (i don't blame her...) and spent the rest of the 'episode' cuddling up to mulder (that, i will attribute to the fact that i went off randomly in search of stargate: sg-1 fic last night, and filtered by carter/jackson, on a whim, and one of the fics was them sharing a tent and sam complaining because daniel was thinking too much and she couldn't sleep. there was a line that was something like "teal'c may snore, but he doesn't mind my cuddling. he thinks it's cute..." - anyway, that's where that came from, i imagine. as a side note, why do i always manage to end up in minority shipper groups?)

where was i?

oh, yes, scully cuddling up to mulder. so, they were in the house of the person they were questioning... and i was there, for some reason, either helping them out, or local authority or another agent, or something, and i was desperate for the loo and couldn't get a word in to ask the owner if i could use his bathroom... and then this large bird hit the front window, and it was blue and had a face like homer simpson.

um. that looks silly written down.

then there was a bit that seemed to revolve around me and vickie bowling. randomness.

mind you, i seem to recall having a dream once where our intrepid agents were flying in a large, orange hot-air-balloon thing... actually, that was in a film with steve martin, but i never remember the title of it. he was playing a guy who wanted to adopt the girl he'd looked after since she was a few months old, i think. all very random.

gah. i should probably go to bed and stop talking...
teylaminh: (angel)
my brain scares me. last night's dream revolved around me and naomi attempting to sing "stay with me", which was an 80s hit by shakespeare's sister. i know why - it's part of sky one's "pop years" promotion at the moment, and they keep showing the scary blonde goth one singing her bit. anyway, i recall that we ended up switching parts because i didn't know the words to the scary blonde goth one's bit, but i knew all of the other bit, which bore no actual resemblence to the real song.

very odd...

the cat's still missing. i went around the area today putting little notes through people's doors asking them to check their sheds and garages, just in case. there are some frelling scary houses near me. i've lived here over four years and never ventured beyond my own house, and today i covered the entire block and discovered some houses in a cul-de-sac off the cul-de-sac that have no actual road access, and there are three, in a row, in a sort of niche at the end of the street... it was like something out of a horror movie, for some reason. if i thought i'd get away with it without getting strange looks, i'd attempt to get some photos of it...

that's pretty much it, i think. i've been attempting to get to town and failing so will try to go tomorrow. and i've moved back into my own bed, having spent the time since the foot incident sleeping on an inflatable mattress and the futon mattress, on the floor. annoyingly, i slept better down there, even if my neck hurt in the morning. back in my own bed, i'm near the ceiling (if you've seen it, you know...) and i think the mattress is just too soft. i end up sleeping my life away up there.

but on the plus side, it's brought my muse/s back to the fore. sleeping on the floor was slowly killing them off. i nearly had a moulin rouge-esque fic idea going around my head, but it turned into christian moping after the end of the movie, and everyone does those...
teylaminh: (deadthings)
now, the spike-centric dreams i can understand and accept perfectly happily. the spike/willow-esque one that was the provocation to start 'cradle', i can understand, almost. the gemma-appearing dreams are confusing the hell out of me. but this just takes the biscuit.

last night's offering was buffy-centred, i suppose. it entailed me being driven somewhere (i think it was choir, or something) along a very long road - the route was walkable, but along a very busy road and took about an hour - but that was just something i vaguely remember. the most part of the dream was about fanfic... i think. it had the general feeling of being fanfic, anyway.

there was a particular fic that the dream centred around. i'd filtered the buffy section of fanfic.net (as usual) by buffy/spike. there was a random fic thrown in there by someone who, to quote lloyd, was 'venomatly' anti-spuffy (you either love 'em or hate 'em...) and had posted their fic in there to annoy us. clicking away innocently, we all read it.

it turned out to be buffy/willow-centric. but it was so incredibly well-written that the authoress had managed to convert, or, at least, convince, the readers that buffy/willow was completely fabulous. except, this being my brain, and therefore being sporadic, i didn't so much read it as see it. maybe it was a fan-movie, or something. (no. i don't remember details. :P) i remember leaving a very impressed and gushy review along the lines of "wow, seriously. i'm convinced!"

then there was a very bizarre section whereby i'd been driven to wherever it was i was being driven to, and the authoress was there, and i congratulated her in person. she turned out to be a complete bitch (actually, she was rather faith-esque, only she was blonde, i think, and actually more bitchy) and we had a long argument about respecting your public and accepting praise when it was given. i stormed out, two hours before i was meant to be picked up, and started the long walk home...

random other bits come back to me... i remember a section with giles knocking annoyedly on the door and buffy and willow just ignoring him. *giggles* and i remember there was a general feeling that was like a combination of season 7 buffy/spike and willow/tara, combined, which i suppose makes sense... and i think it all took place in some kind of cabin... or, no! it was a boat! made of dark wood! because then there was another bit that was (apparently) x-files, where one of mulder's, um, exes turned up. i think. and she was familiar for some reason, but now i can't remember who she was...

i woke up semi-convinced i was a buffy/willow-er...

hm. odds i'll get bored later and go off in search of b/w fic? gah...
teylaminh: (wedding)
there's definitely something about this house in the summer that makes my subconsious do bizarre things. last year, i was plagued by random buffy dreams, james marsters/spike-centric dreams, various sunsetty things... and this year it's buffy again and, for some reason, gemma.

but i'm getting ahead of myself. the dream last night began with me going off to SFX's third event (which isn't even organised or detailed yet), which was, for some reason, being held overseas, presumably america somewhere. and, of course, the guests were all must-see and i was having to fly over there by myself. i remember being on a coach that was taking me to luton (which is very much like a dream i had the other week where i was trying to get somewhere in london so i could get back to birmingham new street, and then i was trying to drive this huge jeep, getting it petrol by putting pound coins in to the value of however much you needed - and derek was driving another car next to me and i was warning him that i wasn't very good, at which point i hit another car. see what i mean?)

i digress. coach taking me to luton. i got to luton, and i had my shawn the sheep bag, and nearly forgot my case. i got on the plane - this was familiar, for some reason. i think i've dreamed about the airport before, even though i've never been to luton in my life, and i remember that i was getting very confused because they wanted me to pay for the ticket to the con despite the fact i'd already ordered it. it was confusing, bu anyway, they let me through the gates.

i was in a large crowd of people, and then the aeroplane seemed to turn into some large kind of auditorium (which, again, was very familiar from another dream, only this time it was made of concrete and had an entirely new level to it) that we were filing into. it was, however, still apparently the plane. i went down the lower level and sat down - from the general chatter around me, it turned out i was in the front row for a snoop doggy dog concert later (meh?) and once we were seated, we weren't allowed to move again until the plane was moving. then, from my seat, i did espy some people i knew - rachel (who later became aisha), and gemma. (and i've just realised most of you probably don't remember who gemma is, except possibly lorna, who may remember her. unhand me, squire! might ring some bells. she was the narrator.)

the person who was apparently in charge allowed me to go and sit with them. then the next thing we were trying to do this bizarre dance.

and then, it got surreal. it turned into some bizarre adventure movie, or something. apparently, there was an abandoned hangar that had some kind of gang in there (most of whom, i recall, seemed to be drag queens...) and then the main character of the movie was going down there to talk them around to a different point of view. and then just as he had (don't ask me how. it made perfect sense at the time, but the pink mucus hand cream... that's beyond me) one of the gang - a gangly african kid, i think - opened the hangar doors, to see a plane about to crash into them. everyone scarpered, up the ladder, and onto the roof, as the plane continues to crash. then the 'hero' character lit a match and dropped it into some part of the plane, which caused it to stop. then there was something technical about why.

and then i woke up.

so it was bizarre. but i am getting increasingly worried about why gemma keeps appearing in my dreams. she was in one i had the other day, too, very briefly.

anyway. was meant to go to the doctor today, but it's too bloody hot, and it's making me tired despite the fact i was up at a reasonable time. blah.
teylaminh: (Default)
had a very bizarre dream last night (well, several, actually...) - i was in my room, or, at least, in a room, and was struck by the sudden realisation that it was june 6th. and then remembered that on that day, i was meant to have taken a couple of exams. cue panic attack. and then i thought it wasn't too bad because my final one was on june 7th, and then remembered that it was actually on june 5th, and panicked some more.

i vaguely remember either waking up, or waking up in the dream itself, but whichever it was, i couldn't open my eyes, and gave up. possibly this was actually me waking up since i then vehemently told my brain that i'd taken my 3 exams and should hence stop panicking...

i vaguely recall actually waking up and then deciding to give the spikemuse a chance to dream, which, in my semi-conscious state, was a perfectly valid thing to think.

most bizarre...
teylaminh: (Default)
even though i woke up in time, thanks to going in a pointless two hours early yesterday (turned out the module info day wasn't til next week, so i had to stick around til my hair appointment; talking of which, it's... rather short...) i was somewhat tired this morning, and realised it was bound to only be tutorials or something this afternoon, and managed to sleep through creative writing...

but to punish me for being a lazy tralk, my subconscious gave me the freakiest dream...

i was asleep in my room, and it was sort of dark because it was rainy and grim outside, and the door knocked. i opened it, and for some reason my grandmother was in the corridor. so i let her in, said hello, and then asked "how the hell did you get in?" (seeing as we need to buzz people up from this floor and then open the flat door as well) - and apparently sadia had let her in, but she called her something derogatory and vaguely racist (no change...)

anyway, i told her i was tired since it was about 8 in the morning and i didn't have to get up til about 11.00, so went back to sleep. she was sitting in the chair.

waking up again, i staggered to the ensuite, where the light wasn't working properly, and then.. next thing i remember, i was complaining about the fact that faber and faber publishers charge a sodding fortune for books by comparing my t.s.eliot poetry book to a much longer novel that cost half the price... then she wanted to take me for lunch and i said that would be okay because it was only tutorials in creative writing and i could miss it.

and then it just got really odd - she flipped out and went off on this weird parental rant about me skiving and not doing any work - and i was trying to show her past exam results because she was under the impression i was failing everything. and then she threw something out of the window (i think it turned out to be my record of achievement and some other things) and i was getting hysterical...

next thing was various gathered people including my mum and some others, and my grandmother was on some sort of 'trial' for what she'd done. 'twas most odd...

had a very odd sense of foreboding about it, though, not helped by the dingy rainy lighting that made everything very grey and white...

and then i had a shippy spuffy dream to make up for it ;)
teylaminh: (Default)
okay, by comparison to this morning, last night's dream was frelling normal.

can anyone explain why i'm having shipper dreams about - wait for it - michael douglas and catherine zeta jones? anyone? please? i mean, yes, so i caught the end of a film preview with michael douglas in it out of the corner of my eye, but meh!! the phantom of the opera shipper dream i'll accept, since i read 12 chapters of a shipperphic after work until, like, 5am, but michael douglas and catherine zeta jones, for crying out loud??

i don't know whether i'm more disturbed by the content, or the fact that they were really sweet... or maybe the fact that i knew c.z.j and she'd entrusted various... documents? random pieces of paper and photos and things... to me, and people were paying me ten pound notes to have a glimpse.

whatever...

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