The light of ancient mistakes
Mar. 1st, 2003 03:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenWhatever you feel, whatever you hide,
Whatever you carry deep inside."
I am less close to death this morning, which is good. However, I have to babysit tonight. Maybe I've mentioned before how much I loathe kids, and how mutual a feeling it is, but somehow, I got talked into this. It's babysitting for Helen's daughters, Laura and Rebecca, aged one and three. According to Helen they'll be asleep before I get there, and I'll be extremely unlucky if they wake up, and I can only hope. My mother had one piece of advice: "Don't shake the baby!"
Bittersweet. But true. If anything untoward happens I will retreat to the other side of the room and call![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chanandlerbong. "Becca! What the hell do I do! Waaaah!"
That's not until this evening, though. There's a whole day of general lunacy to be got through first. For example... the first thing that happened today was my mother's stealing my dogtags. I didn't see her, but I know she did. I was lying in bed awake but with my eyes closed, and I heard her come in.
rustle, rustle - that was her picking up my jeans.
clinkclink thunk - that was the dogtags dropping out of the pocket onto the floor.
groan, clinkclink - that was her leaning down and picking them up.
silence, clink - that was her trying to read what's written on them without her glasses, and failing.
clink, thud, clinkclink, thud, clinkclink - that was her leaving, still holding them.
I haven't found them yet. They will no doubt turn up, as my spiked pair of bracelets turned up in the drawer where we keep the clingfilm.
In the meantime, I have done a few things. I have removed "Buy 'H' and get brain" from the whiteboard, and written, "There is always something to remember."
And there is. I have decided to take my History paper 2 file with me tonight. If the kids are asleep, I may as well start revising Roosevelt's New Deal, and I can then do the questions at some point before Thursday. I also might print off my English notes. This talk is proving quite... well, odd. Yesterday, Yusra informed me she'd been trying to get hold of me all day. She knew what she had decided to do her talk on, but she couldn't remember what it was called and therefore couldn't google for it. It took me quite a few minutes to realise she was looking for the word "narcolepsy." The girl is nothing if not original.
The only other talk I have any advance knowledge of is Frankie's. She's doing it on John Lennon, because, as she says, if all else fails she can just whip out her guitar.
What else have I done? Yes, I have added "dogtags" to Microsoft Word's internal spellchecker, because it wasn't there already for some reason. I do use the spellcheck, and I like the thesaurus. It gives me words like "shambolic" when I need them, and then tells me they don't exist by way of the spellchecker.
Food shopping came next. Oh, yes, how much fun. I was bored out of my mind, and so, I picked up the nearest magazine that wasn't wrapped up in cellophane, and opened it to a random page. The magazine proved to be Mizz, staple of first-year schoolbags everywhere, but what came next really, really bit muchly. Who was on their new music page, but....
... Something Corporate.
I am officially having a Daniel Jackson Hissy Fit™. Something Corporate? No. Please, no. My favourite fucking indie band of all time. The only band ever to get away with a ten-minute piano epic about a girl called Konstantine. The band who I am going to see live in a week from today.
Something Corporate, reduced to teenybopper status. Argle.
Whatever you carry deep inside."
I am less close to death this morning, which is good. However, I have to babysit tonight. Maybe I've mentioned before how much I loathe kids, and how mutual a feeling it is, but somehow, I got talked into this. It's babysitting for Helen's daughters, Laura and Rebecca, aged one and three. According to Helen they'll be asleep before I get there, and I'll be extremely unlucky if they wake up, and I can only hope. My mother had one piece of advice: "Don't shake the baby!"
Bittersweet. But true. If anything untoward happens I will retreat to the other side of the room and call
chanandlerbong. "Becca! What the hell do I do! Waaaah!"That's not until this evening, though. There's a whole day of general lunacy to be got through first. For example... the first thing that happened today was my mother's stealing my dogtags. I didn't see her, but I know she did. I was lying in bed awake but with my eyes closed, and I heard her come in.
rustle, rustle - that was her picking up my jeans.
clinkclink thunk - that was the dogtags dropping out of the pocket onto the floor.
groan, clinkclink - that was her leaning down and picking them up.
silence, clink - that was her trying to read what's written on them without her glasses, and failing.
clink, thud, clinkclink, thud, clinkclink - that was her leaving, still holding them.
I haven't found them yet. They will no doubt turn up, as my spiked pair of bracelets turned up in the drawer where we keep the clingfilm.
In the meantime, I have done a few things. I have removed "Buy 'H' and get brain" from the whiteboard, and written, "There is always something to remember."
And there is. I have decided to take my History paper 2 file with me tonight. If the kids are asleep, I may as well start revising Roosevelt's New Deal, and I can then do the questions at some point before Thursday. I also might print off my English notes. This talk is proving quite... well, odd. Yesterday, Yusra informed me she'd been trying to get hold of me all day. She knew what she had decided to do her talk on, but she couldn't remember what it was called and therefore couldn't google for it. It took me quite a few minutes to realise she was looking for the word "narcolepsy." The girl is nothing if not original.
The only other talk I have any advance knowledge of is Frankie's. She's doing it on John Lennon, because, as she says, if all else fails she can just whip out her guitar.
What else have I done? Yes, I have added "dogtags" to Microsoft Word's internal spellchecker, because it wasn't there already for some reason. I do use the spellcheck, and I like the thesaurus. It gives me words like "shambolic" when I need them, and then tells me they don't exist by way of the spellchecker.
Food shopping came next. Oh, yes, how much fun. I was bored out of my mind, and so, I picked up the nearest magazine that wasn't wrapped up in cellophane, and opened it to a random page. The magazine proved to be Mizz, staple of first-year schoolbags everywhere, but what came next really, really bit muchly. Who was on their new music page, but....
... Something Corporate.
I am officially having a Daniel Jackson Hissy Fit™. Something Corporate? No. Please, no. My favourite fucking indie band of all time. The only band ever to get away with a ten-minute piano epic about a girl called Konstantine. The band who I am going to see live in a week from today.
Something Corporate, reduced to teenybopper status. Argle.
no subject
on 2003-03-01 10:40 am (UTC)Speaking of dogtags, where'd you get yours and did you get them engraved or embossed and if the latter, where?
I'm curious because I'd like to get a set of my own. Pretty much what I want is a pseudo-military set, full name, blood type, that sort of thing. I'm pretty sure I can get the tags, but I'd really prefer to get them embossed not engraved and I've no idea where to get that done.
I mostly want 'em because a) not a bad idea, b) I have a thing for dogtags and c) they'd match the chain I already wear, that chain being the one with my emergency keys(car and house) on it. =P
no subject
on 2003-03-01 10:57 am (UTC)Not really. I got mine from Quiggins (http://www.livejournal.com/interests.bml?int=quiggins), which I doubt you have heard of despite its being a listed interest. It's a rather cool alternative/gothic/odd people type shop, and I just saw the tags one day, in a pretty brown paper packet with the words "US dogtags" on it. So I bought 'em (£1.75) and hung on to them until a couple of days ago, when I took them to a little engraver/key maker shop, and asked them to do it. They engraved them by hand for me (£4.99).
Sorry I'm not much help, but they really are nice things to have, and I do completely understand your urge to have them. Should scan them in and make an icon, now I come to think of it...
no subject
on 2003-03-01 11:06 am (UTC)Being as I'm not only in America (*sigh* I miss England.), but a rural town in Tennesee, I doubt I'm going to find a Quiggins nearby. But I've seen some pseudo-military tags online and can probably get them easily enough.
At least someone else understands my desire for them. It's not really that articulable, it just sorta is. *snerk* And don't I sound the idiot teenager there? So much for my claim to eloquence.
Anyway, thanks for your information. I'll put it to good use. =D