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Home from Hull. Actually managed to leave with less alcohol than I arrived with. Hurrah. (I think?) Part of me still feels it is a failure to leave with ANY alcohol left undrunk. (I have a feeling this part is the 20-year-old me who lived off cheap vodka and even cheaper red wine and had never heard of a hangover, but still.)
People made fire. I wasn't allowed to make fire. This may be because I arrived and promptly broke things. (It's not that I'm clumsy, more that I tend to hold conversations with my entire body.) Luckily it turned out that some things needed to be broken. Nearly broke cats. (Vix's two big beautiful boys who definitely didn't need to be broken, and luckily emerged unscathed.) Broke Patrick long distance. (It was all his fault). Little Big Planet broke us. (The princess was a shark.) There was no Singstar, meaning nothing broke through from any neighbouring eldritch dimensions to complain about the noise.
Shamefully, Vix and I made it to bed while it was still dark outside - we're getting old. 20-year-old me is waving her bottle at me down the years. Though we were still the last two up, and as well as setting life and the universe to rights (as we usually do in late night chats) we also Sorted Whitby, which is much much harder. The only thing we haven't yet managed to solve is how to break me out of work for the Friday and Monday so I can do a proper Whitby, although at one point Vix was threatening to write a Stern Letter to my boss.
Cat who is the size of a small panther decided I was the ideal place to sleep. (This may have been revenge for earlier not-quite-breakings.)
Today Kris and I went to explore the Deep, as I was in dire need of aquarium therapy. Quickly discovered that the place has more steps than fish. It's nice enough, and they do have an impressive central tank with good-sized sharks in a variety of shapes, and the biggest, most beautifully elegant rays. (I love rays. They look like living spaceships, and I secretly like to believe that they are.) However the grand tour seems to consist of showing you this one tank from as many different angles as possible (including underneath, which was pretty cool). There were a range of semi-functioning interactive thingies around (we proved that fire isn't alive! I was strangely disappointed at that, and think it may be a lie) and a selection of smaller tanks, including one full of moon jellyfish. But overall it was slightly disappointing.
To be fair, I think I may have been spoiled for life when it comes to aquariums after seeing the excellent one at Monterey Bay, which is one of my favourite places in the entire world. (They have whole rooms of gently pulsating jellyfish that you can get gently, hypnotically lost in - they're the living equivalent of the waterlilies room in Moma.) And I did end up bringing home a fluffy spotted ray, who is so far un-named. (Although thinking about it, he might be called Ray.)
On the way home, Kris got overtaken by not one but TWO houses. This way outdoes the time I was overtaken by a house near Sheffield, and makes him the most overtaken-by-houses person in this house.
Kris is now passed out on the lounge floor. I think he may be broken too.
Time for more writing. Maybe about America...
People made fire. I wasn't allowed to make fire. This may be because I arrived and promptly broke things. (It's not that I'm clumsy, more that I tend to hold conversations with my entire body.) Luckily it turned out that some things needed to be broken. Nearly broke cats. (Vix's two big beautiful boys who definitely didn't need to be broken, and luckily emerged unscathed.) Broke Patrick long distance. (It was all his fault). Little Big Planet broke us. (The princess was a shark.) There was no Singstar, meaning nothing broke through from any neighbouring eldritch dimensions to complain about the noise.
Shamefully, Vix and I made it to bed while it was still dark outside - we're getting old. 20-year-old me is waving her bottle at me down the years. Though we were still the last two up, and as well as setting life and the universe to rights (as we usually do in late night chats) we also Sorted Whitby, which is much much harder. The only thing we haven't yet managed to solve is how to break me out of work for the Friday and Monday so I can do a proper Whitby, although at one point Vix was threatening to write a Stern Letter to my boss.
Cat who is the size of a small panther decided I was the ideal place to sleep. (This may have been revenge for earlier not-quite-breakings.)
Today Kris and I went to explore the Deep, as I was in dire need of aquarium therapy. Quickly discovered that the place has more steps than fish. It's nice enough, and they do have an impressive central tank with good-sized sharks in a variety of shapes, and the biggest, most beautifully elegant rays. (I love rays. They look like living spaceships, and I secretly like to believe that they are.) However the grand tour seems to consist of showing you this one tank from as many different angles as possible (including underneath, which was pretty cool). There were a range of semi-functioning interactive thingies around (we proved that fire isn't alive! I was strangely disappointed at that, and think it may be a lie) and a selection of smaller tanks, including one full of moon jellyfish. But overall it was slightly disappointing.
To be fair, I think I may have been spoiled for life when it comes to aquariums after seeing the excellent one at Monterey Bay, which is one of my favourite places in the entire world. (They have whole rooms of gently pulsating jellyfish that you can get gently, hypnotically lost in - they're the living equivalent of the waterlilies room in Moma.) And I did end up bringing home a fluffy spotted ray, who is so far un-named. (Although thinking about it, he might be called Ray.)
On the way home, Kris got overtaken by not one but TWO houses. This way outdoes the time I was overtaken by a house near Sheffield, and makes him the most overtaken-by-houses person in this house.
Kris is now passed out on the lounge floor. I think he may be broken too.
Time for more writing. Maybe about America...
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Overtaken by houses? How does that work, and does it involve dimensional chess?
Glad to know you managed to avoid kitty breakage!
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