Monthly Archives: May 2006

leafy interlude

gallery pondA lovely sunny evening in Edinburgh. To finish off a pretty good day I snatched up a paperback and went for a walk along the Water of Leith.

Quiet, ultra-green, smells like being a kid again. The path winds and ducks around any sign of modernisation like a leafy trench run. Threw sticks for excited dogs and nodded polite hellos at their green-fleece-melded owners.

Ran up and down the hill paths to find out which streets they emerge in, until my calves were too sore. Came spinning down one steep path to burst out into open space of green and sun – again the feeling of being out on east coast bike runs in the sunshine.

Up the steps to the back of the Gallery of Modern Art, locked at this time. Climbed over the gates to wander around and sit on the sculpted front lawn (pic), watching the swans duck their heads into the pond like they keep remembering what they did last weekend.

Then tiredly coming back over the Dean Bridge, stopped for a while to look down on our local heron stalking fish in the shallows like a feathered AT-ST.

air’s life lessons #1

thumbs up1a. If you misplace your MOT certificate and can't get your car taxed when it runs out, you have at most TWO MONTHS grace to get it sorted. After this period the computer goes 'blip' and you get an envelope in the post stuffed full of FINE.

HA HA.

thumbs up1b. If you lose your phone in London, cancel it immediately. IMMEDIATELY. Not the next trembling day, after you have slept yourself back to something like a human state.

Because – naturally – you are liable for ALL CALLS until the time you report it. So in the handful of hours before I called mine in, my phone bill was made familiar with such places as Libya, Norway, France and the UNITED ARAB EMIRATES.

HA HA HA.

Other than that everything is going exceptionally well, so I can take the financial puss-raps without weeping.

quick gag

Courtesy of me dear old dad.

A miner in South Africa gets hits by a minecart and loses his leg.

He says to his mate "I'm fucked, who's going to want a 1-legged gold digger?"

His mate thinks for a minute and replies, "Try Paul McCartney"

Urgent fashion advice required

Evening fashionistas,

My friend has told me that even if I make a winning interview presentation, if I wear a brown pinstriped jacket with black trousers then I will not get the job.  I, on the other hand, think that brown and black are a stunning colour combination and that I look quite lush in my outfit.

But, personal taste aside, I do not want to commit a serious fashion faux pas when a job I really want is at stake.

What should I do, oh wise ones?

I don't mind buying the trousers to go with the jacket and they are archaeologists so they must all love brown, I reckon.  I just think it looks naff and I'd rather spend my time swotting up on archaeology and twentieth century British architecture for this "specialist knowledge" I must acquire for three days' time.

Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

CJ

Founding Director, HY HA (Hot Young Historians in Archives)

Life is Beautiful

This week has made me smile. The preternaturally bright sun has elected to light up the Edinburgh streets once more, making me glad to wander them, watching people pass by and wondering where they're off to in such a hurry. Clients have showered me with lovely presents, and Fred loves me. Even if I did have to pay her. Furthermore, my estranged partner has decided that he's moving back to the UK in time for his birthday next year, we're buying houses next month (perhaps plural) and going on holiday the month after. Yay for quality time. Long time coming.

I hear back about my job with rockstar next week too.

And Leslie's going to take me surfing.

All is well.

Bad Internet addictions

People always look disappointed when I say I've got a MySpace or that I visit Neighbours.com regularly (the two minute catch-ups are not quite the same as the real thing) or that I'm happy to read the JRT gossip on the Green Wing forum. But I don't care. Or do I?

I've decided to wean myself off MySpace gently. First, I will stop commenting on friends' profiles and I won't add any more friends or bands. Then I will only log in to gradually remove stuff from my profile until I will hopefully be ready to hit delete. I wonder if you can suspend your account just in case you want to come back, like the MySpace equivalent to not throwing out your ashtrays. Continue reading

fame, success, narcotics

First, my thanks to the rather lovely shotgun who sent me her shots of Dundee graffiti, including this unusual piece.

Mystery fans eagerly spreading the word? Kind of. After some enquiries it turns out our own ms.bean got tagging several years ago for an art project. It's still raking in the punters though…

Second, congrats to our own P Moseley who got the job he was after, and consequently now rules his workplace with a granite fist clad in black denim.

Third, our love affair with our hometown slang continues with the fantastic discovery that certain illegals are known in Arbroath as stoor. Hilarious.