Lines and lines and lines and lines

[myz_lilith]

Hmmmm... where to start

Had a nice time at home on Friday... even finally managed to go swimming. Did the twenty lengths I had promised myself, only to get out and find that the pool was 22m long instead of the usual 25 - felt like I had been cheated out of 60 metres... However to continue a theme, decided against showering at the pool cos I wanted to make the most of proper power shower at parental home. Got back to find that the nice workman building the new estate at the end of the road had managed to slice through some kind of vital cable leading to the whole neighbourhood being plunged into darkness. Well, maybe that's a slight exageration since it was 2pm on a very sunny day but nevertheless no power meant I was once again faced with the prospect of no shower... starting to think that someone somewhere is trying to tell me I'm just not meant to be clean. Luckily parents shower some kind of bizarre contraption that works from the hot water tank rather than being reliant on the mains so I wasn't forced to meet one of my literary idols smelling of chlorine. An interesting side effect of this power cut was also that it set all the burglar alarms off in the street (which in turn set off all the dogs and babies) Found out this is supposed to happen as some kind of failsafe if the power is off which lead to my Dad ringing the company in an irate state to complain that our alarm was the only one NOT wrecking the peace of the entire neighbourhood.

Managed to get through the dentists with no pain and no lectures about flossing (which tend to be the most painful part) and managed to get out in time to catch most convenient train to Manchester AND secure a seat at 5pm *proud* After having had workl done on it for about twelvety years Manchester station seems to have suddenly changed overnight... it was all very posh and new looking with all those dynamic white curves and bog glass pannels and stuff. But they got rid of the bar where I used to hang out while waiting for trains or putting off going home which was very sad. At this point I also rearranged the contents of my bag as it did occur to me that it's maybe not the best thing to go to a signing by one of your favourite authors with a copy of Misery prominantly displayed...

Neil Gaiman was amazing... actually arrived at Waterstones early so did a little browsing to pass the time and got sucked back into my quest to find somewhere that actually possesses a single in-print copy of some kind of literary criticism of Ted Hughes (I mean, you'd think that in a world where JK Rowling gets an entire volume of analysis there might just be a slim pamphlet about a poet laureate?) Admitted defeat only to realise that it had gone 7 and the place was packed out - glad I prebooked my ticket. Kerry and Marie were there which was cool, as I'd been worried they might not make it, or even worse that they might have driven all the way there only to find the event sold out. I thought it was going to be a talk about the art of writing for children, but instead he spent half the time reading from his new book, and half the time answering questions that rarely rose above the "where do you get your ideas" level, and made both fascinating and lively and leaving you dying for more. He also explained what was happening with the proposed film version of Good Omens, penned by Terry Gilliam (long story, short conclusion: "Hollywood is weird") It took almost 2 hours to get to the front of the signing queue and when you got there you figured out why... not only was he having a little chat with everyone that came up, he was also personalising descriptions to suit the person and the book and frequently including little drawings as well. Of course, as soon as I came face to face with him my IQ and vocabulary chose that opportunity to elope taking any poise I may still have had with them and leaving me as a small cube of raspberry jelly but luckily Neil pretended that I was still in human form and chatted away as if nothing had happened :) I came away feeling that not only had I spent a couple of hours in a room with God, but also that God was a nice bloke who would invite you down the pub for a pint.

And I think Wendyhouse and the weekend can have a seperate entry if I can be bothered but I will say quickly was wonderful to get out and see people again and Becky stayed with me and was a wonderful houseguest and this time I didn't go weird and run away and fall down any holes. Which was nice. Oh, and Sam has knees. And Sally bought me carrot cake. And I met Shadowdance. And it is possible to do the Timewarp to cybershite.

Took Becky back to the station in Huddersfield yesterday - she managed to make it home safely with onl one delayed train which was highly impressive. Intended to head straight home but instead called in to provide hugs to Kris who is feeling increasingly knackered out by job things (he did 48 hours last week in only 5 days - more than he'll be doing once he's finished training and on full time) Turned out to be a good job that I stayed since Black Veil website needed updating and Kris hadn't had time to do it recently... so I did! I feel so proud! The bits that I changed were the simplest things in the world to do really, and all I had to do was a little copying and pasting, but it still left me highly bouncy and excitable. I've actually by now got a fairly good grasp of HTML now but still not got round to doing anything with it... mainly cos I've not yet decided what I want out of a website, or on it. I was a bit like a virgin that has every copy of More magazine... I knew all the basics and even some complicated stuff that required a quart of oil and a very solid stair rail, but never actually took the plunge. Came back home all fired up to put my new-found experience to use, and also to get on with some of the Dead Dave illustrations, and for some reason ended up drawing dragons all afternoon. Oh well, it's all art so at least I'm keeping it going.

Off now to go swimming... and looking forward to it :-)

Comments

[dibzva.livejournal.com]

How come all the famous people I meet are of suspect virtue [nicely reworded, eh?] and you get to meet Neil Gaiman? :( My bookshelves are littered with his stuff. [actually, my bookshelves are littered with anything *but* books as its hard to fit hundreds of books in a case designed merely for "dozens"].

Now you've given me the desire for Gaimanesque reading, I'm off to read as much Sandman as I can reach from under my bed... ;)