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Feb. 5th, 2008 09:59 pm
changeling: (Default)
Just a warning, in case you've emailed me, or are expecting a reply from me: I mostly get online during the day on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays (the days when I don't work). I've been working every day this week until Wednesday, so all my emails will go largely unread and unresponded to until Thursday. I've already looked into my account, and I'm veritably drowning in emails at the moment. It doesn't help that I manage two email lists for morris, so I have a whole lot of those to deal with as well.

[livejournal.com profile] sannion, I know I owe you a response to That Email. I hope to get to it this week.

In other news, I've been busy, working and just generally Getting Stuff Done. I'm slowly working though The Ode Less Travelled, and I'm going to post another of my poems later, because Steph liked it. They're still practice poems, but I'm really embracing Stephen Fry's idea of writing poetry for fun. I used to do it at uni, but haven't really since.
changeling: (Default)
The reason the rich were so rich, Vimes reasoned, was because they managed to spend less money.
Take boots, for example. He earned thirty-eight dollars a month plus allowances. A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars. Those were the kind of boots Vimes always bought, and wore until the soles were so thin that he could tell where he was in the city on a foggy night by the feel of the cobbles.
But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that'd still be keeping his feet dry in ten years' time, while a poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.
This was the Captain Samuel Vimes "Boots" theory of socioeconomic unfairness.
Men at Arms, Terry Pratchett.


I've been reminded of this quote again this morning, and it's not just because my first pair of Doc Martens – which illustrated this point so well through my final year of high school – really are giving out (the gaping hole in the side is your first clue). The LJ Permanent Account sale went on today.

I've been on LJ for six and a half years now. I've been a paid account holder for about five of those years. This means that, were a permanent account purchased at the beginning of that time, it would have very nearly paid for itself already.

I had been planning on buying a permanent account. I use LJ a fair bit. I'm probably likely to still be here in six years' time; it would certainly be useful not to have to renew my paid account in a year, and the exchange rate is pretty good at the moment. The thing is ...

The thing is, my last car service cost me over $800. We're thinking about getting rid of said car, but before we do, we're going to have to get the side panel beaten out, and the last few repairs made. I dread to think what that will cost. And the $800 was all of my savings of the time. If I had that money in reserve, I'd buy one without a second thought. But I have about half of that, now, carefully built up over the last while. And I owe the house about as much money as I have in savings. I am going to be working for my mum next Tuesday, which will help, as I get paid well there.

I only make $240 per week. I was supposed to be supplementing this with freelance editing, but Mark hasn't given me another editing job since I finished the puberty book. So: $240. With the exchange rate, a permanent account would cost me $180.

Dammit, I really, really want one. And if I had a better paying job, I'd snap one up. Oh, well, I have a few more days to twist myself up about this. But for the moment, no perm account for me. At least I have a roof over my head, food, a fridge to keep it in, and internet access. This still makes me one of the richest people in the world.
changeling: (Default)
I didn't sleep well last night. At some stage I got up to go to the lavatory, then Steph got up some time later, switching on the Nazi-prison-camp searchlight we have installed above our bed to find her way to the door and back again – wuss. I can't wait until we have bought soft Tiffany-inspired bedside lamps (I'm not sure if I've told Steph this is what we are getting yet, but since "we" apparently have a whole lot of ideas for our wedding that I swear I've only heard half of*, this is frankly small fry) so I don't waken up in the middle of the night expecting to be slapped around with a fawn-coloured leather glove with men with moustaches and dodgy accents screaming "CONFESS! CONFESS!"

I woke up a whole lot after that, but in a vague kind of way, so that when the alarm went off in the morning I wasn't sure if I'd really woken up every ten minutes, or merely dreamt half the wakenings. Steph left me in bed out of pity, and I must say I can't really remember the hour or so after the alarm, except I think I babbled at her incoherently for a bit.

Finally woke up at 8.30. Still felt ill from lack of sleep. Spent about 2 hours accidentally reading Understanding Comics (Steph left it on our kitchen table) instead of doing anything useful, like say, having breakfast, or showering.

That's been pretty much my day, but I did manage to investigate getting our stupidly blunt knives sharpened.

My girlfriend's just come to pick me up. I know this, because I heard a disembodied voice calling my name from the other side of the shelving "wall" that makes up our office. Creepy.


Oh, and because I did:
--Go to Google.com
--Click on Maps.
--Click on "get Directions".
--From New York
--To London

--And read line # 23.

If you laugh, repost this.



* Sometimes Steph has conversations with me that go on in her head. Sometimes I forget the conversations we have had. Sometimes S claims the latter when I KNOW the case is the former. Sometimes I probably argue it's the former when I have simply forgotten.

Letting Go

May. 9th, 2001 10:56 pm
changeling: (Default)
Daniel and I had another fight tonight.

It revolved around my not expressing myself as clearly as I would like, and his reaction to it. And my reactions, which inevitably dug a bigger hole under myself.

My side in the conflict was centred around the fact that I never know anything about what's going on in his life. Often I think I must have misevaluated our friendship. I thought we were best friends, but clearly I was wrong. Of course, I'm basing that judgement on the fact that I always considered him a close friend, and the fact that he described me as a best friend in an entry on OpenDiary mid to late last year. We've had several fights like this, and the blame inevitably rests completely on my shoulders. I'm sure I'm not the only one at fault, but Daniel never admits to any mistakes.

He's the only person I know who can hurt me like this, and he does, frequently and unknowingly. I hold his opinion in such high esteem that his remarks affect me deeper than they should. Actually, I don't think that's quite true. I think that Liam could hurt me like this if he tried. The difference between the two is that Liam doesn't. He trusts me, and I trust him. We talk about what's going on in each other's lives, we have coffee and spend time together for the hell of it. Daniel keeps his distance and only spends time with me if our friends have organised a group activity like going to the movies. Sometimes we run into each other, or see each other at work, but we don't have the same sort of close relationship I have with Liam. Liam has never once brought me to tears.

Daniel is constantly afraid I'm going to smother him, or be clingy. Trying to cling to Daniel is like trying to cling to a sheer ice wall. He doesn't give you so much as an emotional hand hold. I'm wondering if I'd be less "clingy" (as he perceives it) if he actually let down some of his defences that keep me so far from him.

He's let me down so often. I know they're just stupid things, like the fact that I asked him to come and see two of the plays I was in last year. This current argument stems from the fact that I'm helping to organise a comedy debate with a friend of mine from a different university. I'm in charge of My University's team. So far Liam and I are team mates. Laim (not I) suggested that we ask Daniel if he'd like to be our third. We know he can be funny when he wants to be, and he's an accomplished debater. I knew from the outset that he wouldn't be able to and/or wouldn't want to do it, for really good reasons (because he always has good reasons), but I knew he'd be ideal, so I asked him. Last time I spoke to him, he intimated that he might be interested, but didn't venture anything more than that. I hadn't really talked to him between then and now, and really dragged my feet about calling him to confirm. I don't like calling him, because I feel like I'm imposing on him, and if I impose then I'm trying to cling to him. *sigh*

So he declined because he couldn't do it before June 6 (or 7...I forget). I phoned Sarah to see if she could do it, but she said it'd be impossible just before uni exams. I realised that it'd be pretty hard for me too, so I phoned Allan (the boy organising the comp) to reschedule. Knowing that it'd now be most likely after June 6 (or 7) I ICQed Daniel to ask him if he'd be free then. He said no, and I managed to infuriate him because I was angry. I don't even want to get into the argument.

I actually went and spoke to my mother about all this, something I rarely do. Well, spoke is a bit of a misnomer. I sobbed it, I suppose. She told me I had to let go, step back before he destroyed me. (Her words.) I find it so hard to do that. I try to distance myself from him, but I'm not very successful. At the moment I hate him, and that's what I hate about him most; his ability to make me feel like a battered wife. He destroys me (without meaning to), but I can't let go, can't sever the cord. I suppose it really doesn't help that we move in the same circles, both debate, go to the same university, even work at the same place.

I am really not looking forward to working with him this Saturday. It'll just be the two of us, in an enclosed space, for three or four hours.

The girl got reasons...they all got reasons. - Sour Girl, Stone Temple Pilots




my current mood: more than depressed....perhaps despairing, and also unloved.

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