Right, I've trimmed my flist by about a quarter. If you're reading this within a couple of days of it being posted then you've been kept. Journals that haven't been updated in over 12 months, de-listers, old duplicates and a couple who have deleted their LJs and I'm doubtful about whether they're coming back (some do, some don't) have all been taken off.
If you're in the above group and you want to be added back, drop me a comment. No biggie. New blood, same goes for you - most of the photo and URL-centred entries are left public to sate the curiosity of anyone checking who has been linking to them, but the rest is flocked.
Comments screened.
Not a very exciting image, but one that captures my mood better than words can right now.
There is no internet, so save for facebook (which I continue to update the status on every 12 hours from my phone, because I'm one of them) there won't be much in the way of online activity for a little while - but I am well.
I have to be up in six hours to go down to Maidstone. Night, all.
- Location:tottenham, london
- Music:cole porter
I'll take that holiday now, thanks.
Check the whole collection out. Given that more often than not the guy uses his flickr as an image host for his blog (also worth seeing), it's an amazingly cohesive body of work in it's own right.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoGYx35yp
I hit 40 as soon as my balls dropped. Screw it though, it's a must watch :D
Nothing of any great note to update about at the moment, so here are some photos taken this evening on the way to the pub. On the way home the weather couldn't work out if it was foggy or snowing, which is a new one on me. I suppose this is what 'freezing fog' is, or so I reasoned to myself on the way back across the estate as the 'fog' began to leave white deposits on my sleeves. It was that point when I realised that I'd left my scarf in the pub, which I am going to end up cursing tomorrow. I had Lottie's bag on my back, because she is a scatterbrain and left it in the pub on her early departure. We're all losing things. Our minds, it seems, went first. Anywho.
Shattered, but a good day.

Lots to get done tomorrow. Haringey Council probably aren't going to get their act together regarding the student finance issue, but I'll give them a ring in the morning. A couple of things need to go in the post, too - best chances are with getting them sorted and into the boxes at the Central Portsmouth post office for lunchtime - if I don't, it's going to be a desperate dash up from Waterloo to Mount Pleasant for the 8pm collection when I get back to the smoke. I've got an irrational fear of using local boxes for anything other than non-urgent post, especially given the habit employed by the little feckers on Pulford Road of 'feeding' liquids/fire through the hole meant for the letters. POSTBOX IS INANIMATE OBJECT. IT DOESN'T GET THIRSTY. Unless it gets collections every two hours and/or goes straight into a post office wall, I don't bother anymore.
Melvyn Bragg says 'Google' in an odd way. Gggle. G'ggle. If internet words have a northern pronounciation*, MB is pimping it bigstyle.
ION, I have fixed my zippo. I needed to yank out some more wick to keep the flame from going out.
Careers Portfolio time. University work, the turd that won't flush. Semester one of year two is reportedly the hardest out of the three years on this course, and I hope they're right, because the workload is getting to be a joke. Just keeping on top of class material takes up virtually the whole week, and that's before you start factoring assignments in. It's hard to enjoy the course material when it gets to that sort of point. Still, 11 days and the worst of it is over. Heads down..
* A worthwhile point to consider? The globalised nature of internet brands seems to have lent itself to common pronounciations wherever you go. No? Any suggestions to the contrary welcomed.
Met up with Ben this afternoon when I got back to London and we spent a few hours rambling around SE18 and E16 via the Woolwich Foot Tunnel (sibling to the Greenwich Foot Tunnel, but different in being much quieter and graffiti-stricken than it's upstream counterpart).
Look what they've done to it! Barriers. Every 100 yards, all the way along. Greenwich Council vs. certain Cyclists reaches it's logical conclusion. And the tradition of 'true' V.P. shots down the tunnel is now history. Wonder if they'll do the same to the Greenwich Tunnel. If anyone has been thinking of taking a visit with a camera for those ends, it might be advisable to do it soon, if it isn't too late already.
Whoops.
- 1.0 Sweat bee: Light, ephemeral, almost fruity. A tiny spark has singed a single hair on your arm.
- 1.2 Fire ant: Sharp, sudden, mildly alarming. Like walking across a shag carpet & reaching for the light switch.
- 1.8 Bullhorn acacia ant: A rare, piercing, elevated sort of pain. Someone has fired a staple into your cheek.
- 2.0 Bald-faced hornet: Rich, hearty, slightly crunchy. Similar to getting your hand mashed in a revolving door.
- 2.0 Yellowjacket: Hot and smoky, almost irreverent. Imagine W. C. Fields extinguishing a cigar on your tongue.
- 2.x Honey bee and European hornet: Like a matchhead that flips off and burns on your skin.
- 3.0 Red harvester ant: Bold and unrelenting. Somebody is using a drill to excavate your ingrown toenail.
- 3.0 Paper wasp: Caustic & burning. Distinctly bitter aftertaste. Like spilling a beaker of hydrochloric acid on a paper cut.
- 4.0 Tarantula hawk: Blinding, fierce, shockingly electric. A running hair drier has been dropped into your bubble bath.
- 4.0+ Bullet ant: Pure, intense, brilliant pain. Like fire-walking over flaming charcoal with a 3-inch rusty nail in your heel.
1) I've fallen into this habit of going to bed around 12:30-1am and getting up at 8. It's been four days now, without me exercising any effort to keep it that way. Surely the sky will fall in on ALL OUR HEADS.
2) I have a new phone, and it is most shiny, yea. Number is the same as it ever was.
3) Letter from Portsmouth: the retakes went well enough to let me progress to next year, so it's all back on track there.
Some recent photos to end. I haven't had the inclination to be terribly creative of late. Better get the bug back for this club night thing later in the month, or I'm toast.
( here )
- Mood:
tired
http://www.isleofwightweather.co.uk/live
ETA 22:37: It's going away. Disappointed.
- Mood:
amused
Yesterday I cycled to Southend. The night before I cycled to Reading. 110 miles in just over 24 hours :) My legs are on some gung-ho flex, my arse is ready to give up and die on itself.
Other recaps, in brief: 1) Exam results - good, much better than expected. Some resits to do in three weeks time or so, but that was the best case scenario tbh. 2) Last weekend in Brighton was for the most part good.. one little dampener, but a situation which will run its course in one way or another. I'll scare you all with a photo of me in formal dress at some point. 3) Stop sending 'belated birthday' texts, it hasn't happened yet.
Now, to Enfield.
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