Whu?
You know, I started this post thinking I would talk about what's been happening and then realised that not only are there huge swathes of it I *can't* talk about, but there's even more of it that I'm not even remotely bloody inclined to share.
So the short version is:
I'm alive.
The festival is 8 weeks away.
It sold out in two days.
The anthology is complete and off to the printers next week.
I am moving to Glasgow in May to house-sit Mike's place for about a year.
I'll be spending the summer writing my book.
I'll be spending the autumn re-writing my book.
I'll be spending the winter fretting about how shit my book is.
I'll be spending the following spring promoting my book and feeling like a fraud.
I'll be spending that summer writing a better second book.
There's a man. He's wonderful and I am sickeningly happy.
I'm having nightmares about the 6ft, 200kg jellyfish in Japanese waters becoming sentient and amphibious.
I was invited to go be on a panel in a film festival in Malaga early next month which I was pretty excited about until I realised my passport has expired. I was all set to go renew it, but then found out what it costs and had a complete shit-fit. Those undeserving, money-grubbing, indirect-taxation hoarding FUCKERS that we voted in want a minimum of £51 just for a passport. Is it just me or is that appalling? And if you want it in less than the big ol' 'ish' of three weeks, you can expect to pay up to £108.
I have declined the invitation to Malaga partly because I only had 22 days to get my passport renewed and because you are issued with a new passport number, couldn't even get the tickets bought for me in time, but mostly because I resent every penny of the fee. And I love being able to travel to places that understand quality of life and customer service and positivity and other concepts entirely alien to this sucky country, but I'm gonna have to work up to spending the dosh.
And finally, heard an oh-so-bubbly ad on the radio today calling for all 'new parents and parents to be' to attend THE BABY SHOW at the SECC.
AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Oh dear sweet Jesus and all his little wizards, that'd be a fucking nightmare, no? I mean, I love kids. Kids are great. It's just babies. Horrid little leaking, unfinished, inarticulate lumps that they are. See, when they get to 4, they're fab and I adore them. But babies. Oh god no.
So you too can take your recently spawned thing or your bump to a cavernous, soulless hell-hole like the SECC and have it proven once again just how dreadful the acoustics are when the space is filled with squeaking buggy wheels and screaming infants as orange sales assistants whose only stretch-marks are on their frontal lobes try to bleed every last penny out of you that you should really be spending on a nanny or a holiday with good creche facilities.
If it all gets too much, you can come watch The Omen at Dead by Dawn in April :)
So the short version is:
I'm alive.
The festival is 8 weeks away.
It sold out in two days.
The anthology is complete and off to the printers next week.
I am moving to Glasgow in May to house-sit Mike's place for about a year.
I'll be spending the summer writing my book.
I'll be spending the autumn re-writing my book.
I'll be spending the winter fretting about how shit my book is.
I'll be spending the following spring promoting my book and feeling like a fraud.
I'll be spending that summer writing a better second book.
There's a man. He's wonderful and I am sickeningly happy.
I'm having nightmares about the 6ft, 200kg jellyfish in Japanese waters becoming sentient and amphibious.
I was invited to go be on a panel in a film festival in Malaga early next month which I was pretty excited about until I realised my passport has expired. I was all set to go renew it, but then found out what it costs and had a complete shit-fit. Those undeserving, money-grubbing, indirect-taxation hoarding FUCKERS that we voted in want a minimum of £51 just for a passport. Is it just me or is that appalling? And if you want it in less than the big ol' 'ish' of three weeks, you can expect to pay up to £108.
I have declined the invitation to Malaga partly because I only had 22 days to get my passport renewed and because you are issued with a new passport number, couldn't even get the tickets bought for me in time, but mostly because I resent every penny of the fee. And I love being able to travel to places that understand quality of life and customer service and positivity and other concepts entirely alien to this sucky country, but I'm gonna have to work up to spending the dosh.
And finally, heard an oh-so-bubbly ad on the radio today calling for all 'new parents and parents to be' to attend THE BABY SHOW at the SECC.
AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Oh dear sweet Jesus and all his little wizards, that'd be a fucking nightmare, no? I mean, I love kids. Kids are great. It's just babies. Horrid little leaking, unfinished, inarticulate lumps that they are. See, when they get to 4, they're fab and I adore them. But babies. Oh god no.
So you too can take your recently spawned thing or your bump to a cavernous, soulless hell-hole like the SECC and have it proven once again just how dreadful the acoustics are when the space is filled with squeaking buggy wheels and screaming infants as orange sales assistants whose only stretch-marks are on their frontal lobes try to bleed every last penny out of you that you should really be spending on a nanny or a holiday with good creche facilities.
If it all gets too much, you can come watch The Omen at Dead by Dawn in April :)
posted by Adele at 1:17 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home