Admittedly a little late. The first time I took it, I ended up as Calvin, but I much prefer this later, more mature result.
|"God will not suffer man to have the knowledge of things to come; for if he had prescience
of his prosperity he would be careless; and understanding of his adversity he would be senseless."
|You are Augustine!|
You love to study tough issues and don't mind it if you lose sleep over them.
Everyone loves you and wants to talk to you and hear your views, you even get things like "nice debating
with you." Yep, you are super smart, even if you are still trying to figure it all out. You're also
very honest, something people admire, even when you do stupid things.
What theologian are you?
A creation of Henderson
This comes courtesy of One Good Thing (pornography and parenting, that woman rocks) and yeah, I agree. He is just so pretty. But do I fantisise about him? I think I just want to gaze. And maybe gaze somemore. Just maybe, if I was feeling really bold, go up and poke, to make sure it is real.
Yes, summer has come and gone.
I took a few days off work. Three to make a very long weekend and I am ready to be retired. I spent a lot of time, soon after the arrival of the blessing, thinking I needed work. I needed people to talk to (the H being of the very quiet sort). Forget the money, I needed to work for mental balance. I am revising that view. I think I could be quite occupied in just managing my life if I didn't go into an office each day.
Meant to spend the time shopping. Seriously thought about going to Ikea and buying candles and shelves and a bar stool or two. Really wanted to go to Junction One and look at the Clark outlet. In the end, the only shopping I did was at the Disney store for a birthday present for the blessing's best friend and they were having the start of the 50% off sale and it was complete and total madness. I really mean that.
Instead I spent the time indulging in a little visual popular culture, which was a more than fine way of using up my free time. Saw Mean Girls because I love a good teen age comedy and while it was okay, it really isn't a patch upon Heathers, Clueless or even Ten Things I Hate About You which has my favorite teacher in a film. I also went and saw Van Helsing because I will watch any movie with a vampire in it. I am somewhat ashamed of this. I saw the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Blade II was the first film the H and I saw after the arrival of the blessing. I have even watched Wes Craven's Dracula 2000.
I didn't like Van Helsing. And the more I thought about it, the more I didn't like it. I was annoyed first because there are a number of scenes in a central European city. I am watching it, thinking doesn't Prague look lovely. Then the characters all talked about being in Budapest and I thought well, maybe Budapest looks a lot like Prague. Then the credits came up (now I love going to the movies alone because I can stay and watch all the credits. A hold over from my LA days when I was often at the cinema with people in the industry who wanted to see all the credits. Nowadays, I am only allowed to do this if it is a Sam picture and we are waiting for her credits to appear, but I digress) and it mentions Prague. Over and over again. They lied to me. On film. This annoyed me. Also, it wasn't a film with a lot of down time, what the H refers to as the sunset on Tatooie moments. It was action scene after action scene. Far too many brides sweeping and diving through the sky. I would have liked a little more quietness to develop some things. And another thing, when did werewolves get the ability to climb walls like spiderman? There was a lot of that. Finally, I saw the Van Helsing murdered dracula the first time around coming pretty early on. No surprise there. I am curious though, why he murdered him in the first place. There had to be a reason. If anyone knows it, could they let me know?
I also managed to watch a lot of quality TV. You can draw your own judgments as to what kind of adjective to add to quality. Watched a fair amount of Pimp My Ride. Now I originally watched thinking it was just cribs on wheels but I think it is more than that. I think it is the embodiment of the California dream. That no matter what shape you are in, no matter how bad things are, in California you can re-invent yourself as the epitome of hedonistic glamour. It offers hope for us all. And if the Pimp guys at West Coast Cars would like to do some work on my Citroen and make it a truly amazing family car (the radio hasn't worked in over a year), I would not say no. Of course, I am also worried that I may, after only one episode, developed an addiction to American's Next Top Model. Its enough to drive me to drink. One of these, in keeping with the weekend.
No, not that my life is any less exciting than usual (would that make me dead?) but well, work got a little hectic as we went out to public consultation and had to do a whirlwind tour of the occupied six counties. Somehow, and I didn't know I was supposed to navigate, who in their right mind makes me navigate? I can't even find Carrickfergus if we aren't starting from the abbeycentre, my colleague and I got lost on our way from Belfast to Newry. Which caused quite a delay and a far amount of stress and I still didn't talk to the guy from the probation board. And trust me, the guy wants to talk to me. I am interesting person. Really. With interesting things to say. But hopefully I can avoid the public at least for the next few weeks now.
Summer is over. I am not complaining. I think we had a much better summer than many I have survived. And well, the optimist in me likes to hope that maybe there will be another week of sunshine and half-decent temperatures somewhere in the next two months. I will live it isn't. I have holidays to go on. I am also going to give fake tan a go. Now I did have a bad experience with Coppertone Q.T. when I was a teenager (I also had bad experiences with trying to bleach my hair, blue mascara, and home perms when I was a teenager), but I am told self-tanning has come a long way and well, I won't turn orange. I will keep you updated on the progress.
We have also had the longest day of the year. That was Monday. And not just because I got lost on the way to Newry or that Newry appears to be a town completely devoid of street signs adding a certain frisson of mystery to attempts to navigate even with a map. I am still amazed at how light it is here in the summer. It never really gets truly, inky, black dark here in the summer. I was thinking about that the night I was in the kitchen with Pete. Sure, the sun set around 10:30. Sure the sky darkened. But then around 3 am, it started lightening again. I had experienced this phenomenon before with Pete. But it still amazes me. Of course, it makes trying to get the Blessing to sleep quite difficult. We need those blackout curtains invented for air attacks. But aren't organised enough to do it. I am also suffering a bit of guilt. I can't be bothered to get the Blessing's nursery teacher an end of the year present. Am I the embodiment of evil?
Currently reading Behind the Scenes at the Museum. Enjoying it too. And would anyone like to buy me a new car? I'd like a panda. In guacamole green with an mp3 player.
BBC NEWS | World | Americas | Bear's hospital visit turns fatalI think they should have tried harder to sedate the poor guy.
I have a lot of bones to pick. A lot. And I know I haven't been blogging much. I think it's because A) my life is actually quite dull. Yes, yes, I know I could be found at 3 am last weekend smoking tesco's finest tea (and I kid you not) in my kitchen. But that really is an aberration. B)I am working quite hard with the whole public consultation/road show going on. Lots of time out of the office. Lot's of time thinking and working and sorting through papers in the office. C) I'd like to think I am still recovering from the whole computer died and had to go to the computer hospital for two weeks, lot all my stuff on the hard-drive. And I would like to point out how many sympathy emails I got over this, a big fat zero. Did I even get a nice email saying don't worry, I have your____? You can fill in the file there. Whether it is my ph.d. or that manuscript or even an old dogeared copy of The Dreadful Cousin.
But I am going to have to blog and publicly disagree with Mel. I was for the longest time absolutely terrified of hell. I still have memories of the time we were heading to Mandalay Bay and somehow ended up trapped, walking for hours trying to get out. But the last Pansycon, the sleazy Pansycon, there were a number of successful forays into the gaping jaws of hell. We managed to enter, buy tickets and leave. We managed to enter, see Thunder From Downunder and leave. We even went back on morning and had donuts. And its worth going back for the donuts. I have (a long, long time ago) been to the buffet in hell and I would say, never do that. NEVER. But go for the donuts. Sometimes you just need that sugar coffee rush.
I am also slightly taken back by the cheek of my mother. Who had the audacity to lecture me last night on the wonders of no-point vegetables. She is obviously a convert. And more than just a convert, has conviently forgotten who introduced her to WW in the first place.
I suppose I would be happier if I had been a top-hat but then how realistically do I view myself?
I am a Party Hat.
I'm a popular sort of person, well-liked and very sociable. I'm always at the height of fashion, either because I set it or because I follow it. What Sort of Hat Are You?
First, I did have one of those truly amazing hangovers yesterday. The kind Mr.Costello might describing as 'having a personality'. No, it wasn't a bottle of wine, it was a 3 litre box. Not surprisingly, I am going to blame those Whitcrofts again. Though this time, the really evil culprit must be Pete. I am slightly alarmed by the H's habit of making every adult male who walks through the door go into the back and play croquet with him. He rolled the turf even flatter on Saturday morning. But between the croquet and the opera and the wine and the boat race, I am just becoming more and more of a champagne socialist[hmmm, which does put me in the mood to go home and make kir royales and sit out on the patio].
I could go to the election count this morning, but I have too much work to do (notwithstanding any drunken remarks I may have made on Saturday about my work load, that was the drink talking). And I am curious about the election results. I think I may agree with the Guardian columnist. I think the results are too scattered, the electorate too low, to make any kind of judgment on the results.
Bought a pair of shoes for the summer on Saturday. I wish I could link to a picture of them. They are pink scholl's type mules but with this great Puccini type print on the soles and well the buckles are pink suede. Jealous, Mel?
I also took great delight in yesterday's football. I have a bit of a soft spot for Thierry. I don't fancy him but he just has such an engaging smile. And, I like France, damnit. Even if they are cheese-eating surrender monkeys.
Finally, people may be relieved to hear I finally finished The Iliad. I was quite surprised with the ending. It happens with Priam getting Hector's body back. Does this mean I don't get Achilles death scene unless I read the Odyssey? Because I somehow don't think it is in that. Before I go onto my next Homeric epic, I am reading Nancy Mitford, which is another new experience for me. Its great fun and I have decided that henceforth, the small child will always be referred to as the blessing.
Time for our quiz/psychoanalysis
Didn't see CSI last night. Also missed Las Vegas, which is less of a problem because the way Sky programs, they will show that episode another three or four times this week. And I am okay about missing CSI. Really. I went to the opera. It was fabulous. Okay, there is a lot of back story here. I didn't grow up in a fine arts, opera loving family. Indeed, more members of the family than I care to contemplate would be devotees of the country western side of music. I didn't grow up near a site of great opera (I grew up near the place that produced Korn, which might explain why that is one band I refuse to take in anyway seriously). And I saw Pavoratti sing back in my undergraduate days (the same weekend I saw The Monkees with all four of the monkees on stage) and I wasn't that impressed.
Now, many would argue that I am just so new labour. My father, the cowboy (really, he rode the horse, did the one room school thing, branded cattle) usually refers to me as a champane socialist because he doesn't get the new labour thing. I like Tony. I really like Gordon. I would trust Gordon with my money any day of the week. Maybe you are thinking I just went to the opera for the whole social side of things but this wouldn't be true. What happened is that several years ago I sat down in front of the TV with a bottle of red wine and decided to try this opera thing with live from the metropolitan and I watched Carmen with Placido Domingo. Had no idea what the story was. I was overwhelmed. It was amazing.
There could be lots more detail here. The productions I have seen and haven't impressed me. The H falling asleep next to me. Etc., etc. So I will admit I didn't have high hopes. It's a Northern Ireland Company, for pete's sake. I don't think this part of the world is known for its operatic talent. I was going because a) it was my birthday present, b) for the whole being in a national trust grounds and c) for the chance to dress up and have a posh picnic[there were patrons there with lobsters!]. The singing though, was very impressive to me the novice opera fan. The grounds were beautiful with no black spot on their roses. The picnic was fun (roasted chicken, and saffron rice and tart aux citroen). It was a late night. But I am not complaining. Not one little bit.
BBC NEWS | UK | Hottest day of the year predicted You read these things and you think, do I even live in the same country as they are talking about? I mean it is quite a pleasant temperature at the moment even though I still haven't seen the sun in days. But we aren't breaking into the record books here.
And out of curiosity, who would look at the sun with a pair of binoculars
Really. Woe, woe is me. Woe.
The computer is still in the hospital. Just been told it will recover (probably) but that all the data has been lost. ALL THE DATA. Yes, this means more than the ph.d. thesis (which I don't have a hard copy of at the moment) and all the photos of the child that are stored digitally. It also means my first attempt at a novel, The Dreadful Cousin, a regency romance that I had been toying of sending off to Mills and Boon. It also means I have lost Going to Hell in a Late Model Ford, though I should have a hard copy of it with lots of notes scribbled all over it and perhaps the forced rewriting of it will do it a world of good. It also means I have lost The Manuscript, which admittedly I could no longer access because I could never remember what password I had used to protect it. There is also a hard copy of the manuscript up to the arrival back in England but completely missing the whole development of Hawk's Nest, the Bower and indeed the kidnapping of Pansy. It was during these passages I realised that I must always have a villain named Bob in anything I write. I have also lost the first short story that gave birth to Nick, probably my second favorite product of my imagination after Slaughter.
Woe, woe is me. Woe.
Guess this could be fate's way of telling me that as I wasn't writing, I really should shelve those ideas of publishing, book tours, Hollywood rights acquisition and appearances on Oprah (okay, I didn't really dream about the last one).
Once again, Mel is MIA. Has been since her birthday. Does this mean her ex has killed her and hidden the body under the paving stones?
It's not raining enough. I would be a little happier about the lack of rain, if the sun actually shone. But no, it's gray. It's dry. Did go out during the weekend to look at the garden. The tarragon is doing very well. Also went and looked at my rose bushes. I fancy growing roses. Is that so horrible? I know, I know. I hardly ever go into the garden except to sit out and read the paper in the sun. I moaned about the laying of the turf. I managed to avoid the planting of the trees. But I thought, it people want me to garden, we could start small. With two small rose bushes courtesy of my mother-in-law, giver of all plants. If anyone would like to help out with the rose situation, may I suggest a nice portmerion or two? I went to look at my roses, which have only been in the ground a couple of weeks. They have green fly, white fly and black spot! It isn't fair. The H has been useless too. He says roses are needing horrible plants and I need to sort this out all by myself. I can deal with the aphids. Even if the local garden centre doesn't sell ladybugs by the 1000's. The black spot bothers me and well, it may be too late in the season to do anything serious about it. Who knew that gardening was so fraught with danger?!?
Otherwise the H made a work colleague climb into our shower (it all has to do with their height and the shower head, now if they were only normal size people this wouldn't be an issue and someone wouldn't put dishes where I can't reach them). The small child is quite taken with learning French. I don't know why. She hates Italian. And if only it was sunny, I would prefer to be in the garden, drinking one of these even if they are terribly 2002 and finishing off The Iliad.
Really getting into The Illiad. But that Homer? Quentin Tarantino has nothing on him. Allow me to quote:
No Trojans could save him now, strain as they might--
Ajax son of Telamon charging quickly into the carnage
Speared him at close range through the bronze-cheeked helmet,
the horsehair crest cracked wide open around the point,
smashed by the massive spear and hand that drove it.
His brains burst from the wound in Sprays of blood,
soaking the weapon's socket--
his stregnth dissolved on the spot, his grip loosed
and he dropped the foot of brave Patroclus' corpse.
Blood, blood everywhere.
And for a completely surreal Friday afternoon quizzing experience:
yer this kind of Jack Sparrow that likes to play
with the fire. and it always ends up by burning
What kind of a Captain Jack Sparrow are you???
brought to you by Quizilla
I've been working my little tuckus off. No, really. And no I don't like it. But I also haven't highlighted any other blogs for a while, so, I am sending you here, if only because I think this could indeed be the guy for mel.
BBC NEWS | Northern Ireland | Man dies after school ambush This is the school I would have wanted the child to go to if we were still living in Belfast.
A work colleague does have her children there. Fortuneately (and I do feel odd writing this) they are ill today and are at home, with her.
I kind of hope we see one of these at Pansycon IV.
My computer at home has died. Alright, maybe it isn't quite dead but it isn't communicating with me. It is in a continual rebooting loop. I think it picked up something off the internet. I really do. I can't afford a new computer at this point in time. Even though I went to look at some and my have computers come down in price. I of course would love a flat screen monitor, which as the H points out, I don't need because the monitor is working just fine. He was quite taken with the idea of a new printer. Which is much more understandable because our printer hasn't worked in months. I believe the child put something in it and it never recovered. The upshot of this is I finally filled in a job application and wrote out a personal statement in support (how the short-list here because of equality law) but I hadn't printed it out because our printer doesn't work and instead makes truly awful choking noises. I was going to email the document to me at work so I could print it out there but now it is all locked up in the machine that is not speaking to me. I suppose this means I shouldn't be applying for another job and I should just stay put.
You got to love where you live. It is summer. I can tell not because it is getting warmer (it isn't) or because of the sunshine (lots of clouds lately) but because I have spotter my first Israeli flag. Didn't you know that ulster protestants are the lost thirteenth tribe of Israel. Honestly. Of course I was also amused by a co-worker's saga of house buying. He (at the age of 34 and yes, still living at home) had finally put an offer in on a house. Last week there was a bombing just a few houses away. He is back to the looking stage.
There is absolutely nothing surprising about this result:
""Which cocktail are you?""
brought to you by Quizilla
Did have a lovely cocktail on Saturday, a Sunrise made with vanilla vodka. Can't find a recipe, can only tell you where I got it. And I must admit I don't think I have ever met a vodka I didn't like.
And yes, I did go and see Troy.