It would be so messy.
Author's Fight song
Damn, wish I knew the tune of British Grenadiers. Well, I probably do. It's probably one of those ones that goes dum du-dum dumdum or something. Lots of tuba. Doesn't grenadier sound like a drink?
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Cool, huh?
Except I think I need to go to more places...
create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands
create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.
Oh well. In two weeks' time that will also have Georgia highlighted. And...er...I really need to make good on that plan to go to Iceland. And to Transylvania. And Australia, after I've won the lottery. And maybe skiing in Norway next year?
create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands
create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.
Oh well. In two weeks' time that will also have Georgia highlighted. And...er...I really need to make good on that plan to go to Iceland. And to Transylvania. And Australia, after I've won the lottery. And maybe skiing in Norway next year?
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Bad fan
Been neglecting my fandom. So...
Which Buffy The Vampire Slayer quote are you?
"For I am Xander, the king of cretins." -- Xander; Season 1, 'The Witch'Ouch. You sound like you're smarting a bit from something you've recently done, and it's making you feel lower than a snake's belly. (Sorry, always wanted to say that.) Lighten up! Things aren't as bad as they seem, and neither are you. I promise.
Take this quiz!
Quizilla |
Join
| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code
Heh.
Which Buffy The Vampire Slayer quote are you?
"For I am Xander, the king of cretins." -- Xander; Season 1, 'The Witch'Ouch. You sound like you're smarting a bit from something you've recently done, and it's making you feel lower than a snake's belly. (Sorry, always wanted to say that.) Lighten up! Things aren't as bad as they seem, and neither are you. I promise.
Take this quiz!
Quizilla |
Join
| Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code
Heh.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Four things.
One: King Roger won Wimbledon. Again. Four times in a row... like Pistol Pete. Love Federer. Thoroughly, bloody nice chap. Not bad at tennis, either.
Two: Italy won the world cup. Which was nice. I wanted them to win because a) every single person in Italy LOVES football almost as much as they love their mamas, and right now this minute will be screaming around as fast as their Vespas will allow them, streaming red, white and green flags and yelling "Viva Italia!"; and b) because if they lost, then France would win. And we just can't allow France to have won the World Cup more than us. It's just Not British.
Three: My baby boy turned eighteen today. Handsome Tinker, who actually now resembles Gus the Theatre Cat, is now old enough to get married, drink and vote. If this was the case, he'd probably vote for the removal of Sugar and Spike, who seem to think he's some sort of multi-purpose entertainment centre. Bat his tail, leap on his back, make him yowl! Fun! Fun!
Four: I posted a review of Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest on my ol' chum Reese Witherfork's 2 Minute Movie Review site. Go knock yourself out.
Two: Italy won the world cup. Which was nice. I wanted them to win because a) every single person in Italy LOVES football almost as much as they love their mamas, and right now this minute will be screaming around as fast as their Vespas will allow them, streaming red, white and green flags and yelling "Viva Italia!"; and b) because if they lost, then France would win. And we just can't allow France to have won the World Cup more than us. It's just Not British.
Three: My baby boy turned eighteen today. Handsome Tinker, who actually now resembles Gus the Theatre Cat, is now old enough to get married, drink and vote. If this was the case, he'd probably vote for the removal of Sugar and Spike, who seem to think he's some sort of multi-purpose entertainment centre. Bat his tail, leap on his back, make him yowl! Fun! Fun!
Four: I posted a review of Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest on my ol' chum Reese Witherfork's 2 Minute Movie Review site. Go knock yourself out.
My Past Life
I love these things. The other day I found out my superhero alter-ego is SuperGirl. About the only thing we have in common is being blonde--and I bet she's a more real blonde than I am!
Still. This explains my mild obsession with assassins in books. Next thing, I'll be told I was a glamorous mistress...it would explaion those recurring dreams. Or are they just wishful thinking?
A Portugese assassin. Hey, does that mean I can knock Ronaldo off?
Still. This explains my mild obsession with assassins in books. Next thing, I'll be told I was a glamorous mistress...it would explaion those recurring dreams. Or are they just wishful thinking?
| In a Past Life... |
 You Were: A Charming Assassin. Where You Lived: Portugal. How You Died: Buried alive. |
A Portugese assassin. Hey, does that mean I can knock Ronaldo off?
Friday, July 07, 2006
My alter-ego has an alter-ego. Should I be worried?
Sophie has her own MySpace. And already she has more friends than me. Whoever said being yourself was a good idea, hmm?
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Bragging time
Never Leave Me just got awarded Romance Reviews Today's Perfect 10 award! That makes it eligible for the Best Book of 2006 in its category.
This isn't the best part. The best part is... this is my second Perfect 10 from them: Almost Human got it, too!
Well, actually the best bit is everyone at Changeling making a fuss of me. But, you know.
Brag brag brag brag...
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Wimbledon
As always, a helluva day. There aren't many things I'll get up at 4am for. In fact, there's nothing else, apart from a holiday, and even then I'd rather get a later flight.
One of the best things about Wimbledon is how fan-friendly it is. There aren't many other sporting events--and certainly no other grandslams--where tickets are available on the day for anyone to buy. You do, of course, have to queue for them. Ground capacity is 35,000 and at least half of those people--probably up to three quarters--will have queued outside for them. And when I say queue, I mean it's miles long. Get there at 6am (as we usually do) and you get a ground pass. If you want to get on Centre or No.1 Court, you need to be there overnight. The pavement on Church Street is basically a camp ground. Just to give you some idea, my queue card was numbered 972. We got there just after 6am. Play starts at 12. And when we left at 6pm, the queue was at least as far back as it had been when we joined it: and then, people were gaining entry on a one-in-one-out basis. Madness.
Still. Glorious weather and some fantastic tennis. And inside the grounds, it's really fan-friendly, since you can go and watch the players warming up on the practice courts, where I spotted Roger Federer and Justine Henin-Hardenne, or on the outer courts, where Rafael Nadal and Andre Agassi were on adjacent courts. The players walk from the players' areas to the courts using the same walkways as everyone else (apart from on Centre Court, where they use the same walkways as the Queen), so you can see them just wandering around. Which is how I spotted Maria Sharapova and Agassi's old coach, Nick Bollettieri.
Andre Agassi--his last day at Wimbledon--he later lost to Rafel Nadal. This is his last season on the pro tennis circuit.
Nick Bollettierri (centre), Agassi's old coach and the founder of a pretty phenomenal tennis academy.
Justine Henin-Hardenne and Roger Federer--earlier, my brother the tennis player named these two as the most exciting players on the circuit. We spotted them both warming up on adjacent courts. Federer's partner was a rather hot blond guy; Henin-Hardenne's was a really gay-loking guy in skintight orange. I later found out he was her husband.
Maria Sharapova, fresh from victory on Court No.2: formerly known as the Graveyard of Champions. Didn't seem to do her any harm.
Rafael Nadal: just 20 and taking the tennis world by storm. This kid knocked out Agassi, and he's not even much of a grass-court player. Yeah, he looks like a Spanish cartoon character, but he's seriously amazing.
One of the best things about Wimbledon is how fan-friendly it is. There aren't many other sporting events--and certainly no other grandslams--where tickets are available on the day for anyone to buy. You do, of course, have to queue for them. Ground capacity is 35,000 and at least half of those people--probably up to three quarters--will have queued outside for them. And when I say queue, I mean it's miles long. Get there at 6am (as we usually do) and you get a ground pass. If you want to get on Centre or No.1 Court, you need to be there overnight. The pavement on Church Street is basically a camp ground. Just to give you some idea, my queue card was numbered 972. We got there just after 6am. Play starts at 12. And when we left at 6pm, the queue was at least as far back as it had been when we joined it: and then, people were gaining entry on a one-in-one-out basis. Madness.
Still. Glorious weather and some fantastic tennis. And inside the grounds, it's really fan-friendly, since you can go and watch the players warming up on the practice courts, where I spotted Roger Federer and Justine Henin-Hardenne, or on the outer courts, where Rafael Nadal and Andre Agassi were on adjacent courts. The players walk from the players' areas to the courts using the same walkways as everyone else (apart from on Centre Court, where they use the same walkways as the Queen), so you can see them just wandering around. Which is how I spotted Maria Sharapova and Agassi's old coach, Nick Bollettieri.
Andre Agassi--his last day at Wimbledon--he later lost to Rafel Nadal. This is his last season on the pro tennis circuit.
Nick Bollettierri (centre), Agassi's old coach and the founder of a pretty phenomenal tennis academy.
Justine Henin-Hardenne and Roger Federer--earlier, my brother the tennis player named these two as the most exciting players on the circuit. We spotted them both warming up on adjacent courts. Federer's partner was a rather hot blond guy; Henin-Hardenne's was a really gay-loking guy in skintight orange. I later found out he was her husband.
Maria Sharapova, fresh from victory on Court No.2: formerly known as the Graveyard of Champions. Didn't seem to do her any harm.
Rafael Nadal: just 20 and taking the tennis world by storm. This kid knocked out Agassi, and he's not even much of a grass-court player. Yeah, he looks like a Spanish cartoon character, but he's seriously amazing.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Caption competition
It's a carrier bag. You can just see the shopping list under her tail. Cats...bags...it's all too obvious!
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Ordinance survey maps are stupid
So there's this village fun run thing going on at the weekend, and our neighbour is organising it. My dad, possibly while drunk, agreed to be a marshal, you know, one of those people in day-glo jackets who point out which way you're supposed to go. The course is 10k (about 6 miles) across fields and stuff. Mum and I decided to walk the course a little way to see where my dad was supposed to stand...and got lost.
We were okay for the first part. Village, hill, farm... then a load of farm tracks. Map terrifically unclear. Marked out things like Netherhills Plantation (v useful when all around you are identical fields), pit (disused) and FB. What's an FB? I could think of a few things, but none of them likely to appear on a map (and no, when we got to where FB was on the map--finally--there was nothing but more fields and trees there. Map did not, however, mark such things as bridges. So when we came to a bit that was supposed to be a straight footpath to the road, and found a left-right-bridge-right-left-field combo instead, we figured we were lost.
Flashbacks to Year 8 'orienteering' around Hatfield Forest using a 10-yr-old map that didn't take into account several years nettle growth.
Anyway. Figure we walked about five miles. Downed several pints of Coke on return (best thing in the world when you're really thirsty! Water, pah).
Have no idea what the point of this post actually was. My dad is fine now, thanks for asking Emma, and we're going to Wimbledon on Thursday (probably) since yesterday was a washout (forecast was dire and indeed they had 45 mins of play, total all day). Will miss Federer (unless he gets rained off tomorrow, but the weather is supposed to be fine), but on the plus side, hopefully Timmy won't be playing, so the queues will be shorter.
ETA: Two things. One, linking to the new (more accurate) map useless. Two: FB means foot bridge. Actually I've re-christened it: fucking bridge. What happened to the little bridge symbol they used to have? And why was the FB on the map miles from actual FB? Bah. Bah, I say.
We were okay for the first part. Village, hill, farm... then a load of farm tracks. Map terrifically unclear. Marked out things like Netherhills Plantation (v useful when all around you are identical fields), pit (disused) and FB. What's an FB? I could think of a few things, but none of them likely to appear on a map (and no, when we got to where FB was on the map--finally--there was nothing but more fields and trees there. Map did not, however, mark such things as bridges. So when we came to a bit that was supposed to be a straight footpath to the road, and found a left-right-bridge-right-left-field combo instead, we figured we were lost.
Flashbacks to Year 8 'orienteering' around Hatfield Forest using a 10-yr-old map that didn't take into account several years nettle growth.
Anyway. Figure we walked about five miles. Downed several pints of Coke on return (best thing in the world when you're really thirsty! Water, pah).
Have no idea what the point of this post actually was. My dad is fine now, thanks for asking Emma, and we're going to Wimbledon on Thursday (probably) since yesterday was a washout (forecast was dire and indeed they had 45 mins of play, total all day). Will miss Federer (unless he gets rained off tomorrow, but the weather is supposed to be fine), but on the plus side, hopefully Timmy won't be playing, so the queues will be shorter.
ETA: Two things. One, linking to the new (more accurate) map useless. Two: FB means foot bridge. Actually I've re-christened it: fucking bridge. What happened to the little bridge symbol they used to have? And why was the FB on the map miles from actual FB? Bah. Bah, I say.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Thought for the day:
Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons... for you are crunchy, and good with ketchup.
This sounds like something Joss Whedon would write, but I read it as a bumper-sticker on Kendra's blog, and am assured Sherrilyn Kenyon has used it in a book. Funny, anyway. And true.
I could kill you with my thumb.
This sounds like something Joss Whedon would write, but I read it as a bumper-sticker on Kendra's blog, and am assured Sherrilyn Kenyon has used it in a book. Funny, anyway. And true.
I could kill you with my thumb.
It's the most wonderful time of the year
Wimbledon fortnight, of course. I don't really do tennis, otherwise. To be perfectly honest, I have absolutely no idea what the rules are. I don't care. I can spend hours at Wimbledon just watching the line judges and ball boys--all those protocols, it's like a military operation!
So, I'm off there tomorrow. Well, weather willing, anyway. Not that rain ruins the whole thing, but if it rains solidly from 12-6 then there's not a lot of play. And if it rains solidly from 6-12, in the morning that is, then you've got a very damp queuing experience.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw
I don't feel like being polite today. Or like making a coherent point. I'm just following a global blogging trend and letting my inner bitch burst forth to feast upon the carcasses of the innocent.
I'm in a bad mood, people. Bad week, PMS, whatever. My dad is okay, thanks for asking. The docs reckon it was probably an infection or something, but being trained medical professionals, they're not really sure if it might also be appendicitis, gallstone, or an alien about to burst forth.
Snarking the Snarky made me cheer five minutes ago. All this backbiting and bitching masquerading as opinion. It's bullying, plain and simple. Run along.
I get really irritated when people react instantly online. Just because you have an opinion, doesn't mean you need to vent it. I mean, it's my opinion that all those people who go around shit-stirring need to be shot--but I don't go around saying it. Oh crap, I just did.
I'm also intensely irritated by that double standard that says you can bitch at my hard work, but if I bitch back at you, or even respond calmly and rationally, then I'm a stupid unprofessional cow. Authors don't have feelings, you know. We're not entitled to opinions. That's why we only get less than 10% of the print sales from a book we've written the whole of.
The customer is not always right. Having worked in shops and on an airport check-in desk, I can tell you that the customer is usually a flaming imbecile. But if you tell them so--exercising your right to opinion--then they won't buy anything from you, and you'll go bankrupt.
But then maybe the flaming imbeciles don't deserve your product. Why should a bully be entertained? I'm with dear old Lucy Diver. "I love my life, and if God don't like me then I don't like him either, and I don't want to go to heaven." Of course, Lucy Diver got hanged five minutes later.
Figures.
I'm in a bad mood, people. Bad week, PMS, whatever. My dad is okay, thanks for asking. The docs reckon it was probably an infection or something, but being trained medical professionals, they're not really sure if it might also be appendicitis, gallstone, or an alien about to burst forth.
Snarking the Snarky made me cheer five minutes ago. All this backbiting and bitching masquerading as opinion. It's bullying, plain and simple. Run along.
I get really irritated when people react instantly online. Just because you have an opinion, doesn't mean you need to vent it. I mean, it's my opinion that all those people who go around shit-stirring need to be shot--but I don't go around saying it. Oh crap, I just did.
I'm also intensely irritated by that double standard that says you can bitch at my hard work, but if I bitch back at you, or even respond calmly and rationally, then I'm a stupid unprofessional cow. Authors don't have feelings, you know. We're not entitled to opinions. That's why we only get less than 10% of the print sales from a book we've written the whole of.
The customer is not always right. Having worked in shops and on an airport check-in desk, I can tell you that the customer is usually a flaming imbecile. But if you tell them so--exercising your right to opinion--then they won't buy anything from you, and you'll go bankrupt.
But then maybe the flaming imbeciles don't deserve your product. Why should a bully be entertained? I'm with dear old Lucy Diver. "I love my life, and if God don't like me then I don't like him either, and I don't want to go to heaven." Of course, Lucy Diver got hanged five minutes later.
Figures.
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