annanotbob's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Those who find they're touched by madness, sit down next to me Sore throat and hot eyes, boo hoo. These guys were my favourite on Britain's Got Talent: They came second. I love those kind of shows, especially at the beginning before the contestants become tainted with the homogenising gloss of showbiz, but for fuck's sake, enough with the sob stories. Just gargled with a glass of water with a couple of drops of tea tree and made myself some honey and lemon. Laying off the fags would be an idea, but sadly not one I can go with. Still no photos. I opened photobucket on firefox and now it's telling me my password is wrong. It's not wrong on Opera - I can get to my albums, but not add anything new - sometimes the universe just doesn't want things to happen. Who knows what calamity has been averted by the lack of photos of my new sewing project? Doesn't bear thinking about. I've been sewing like a demon - still enthused by my ribbon-weave, lavender-filled pouches which are getting neater and sturdier the more I do. I'm heading off at a tangent for a bit though, to do a bit of decoupage on a shoe-box which will become my ribbon box. Decoupage is craft-speak for cutting and sticking, one of the more soothing pastimes life has to offer. I spent a couple of hours tonight cutting out objects from the series of wallcharts that came with The Guardian recently. The drawings are lovely and clean but the relative sizes are a bit of a worry. Butterflies bigger than oak trees, for example. I'm a bit frantic right now, to be honest. And weird - I kept going out to the garden to plant up the last two tubs, but didn't want to get my hands dirty as I'd finally managed to have a shower. It's only remembering it now that makes me feel NO! I'm not having that. No getting weird about gardening, gardening is A Good Thing and that's all there is to it. The 'work-focused interview' was fine. A very nice, very camp young man, who was respectful from the beginning, but pretty, 'You go, girlfriend!' by the time he'd heard my quick summary of the last couple of years. I've noticed that there's often a bond between queens and tough old birds, especially those that find themselves ridiculous. Yes, Liza, that's you I'm referring to. Grateful for: Friends; love; haberdashery (could be pushing staionery off the number one spot; cheesy fritters (aka Glamorgan sausages); my lovely, lovely bed with it's super-fluffy, snuggly duvet, which I can hear calling to me, right now, down the stairs. Listen - Anna...come to bed...you know you want to... Sweet dreams xx |11:10 p.m. - 31/05/2008 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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