Celebrate spring with a crazy little thing*
I've been wanting to embed this video on the right date for ages. Go on, find out the true meaning of Spring. Happy First of May!
In other news, this poem-excerpt off girlgreybeast's post makes me think of the Master (but then, what doesn't?):
It was the battering of drums I heard
It was hunger, it was the hungry that cried
And the waves, the waves were soldiers moving
Marching and marching in a tragic time
Below me, on the asphalt, under the trees.
Wallace Stevens, "Dry Loaf" (1938)
Ok, packing now.
ETA: Famished like my head's going to melt right off. Most of my stuff's packed now, though I fear I won't be able to physically carry it. Wish I had folk here to help me move. But it's a holiday and a post-holiday, and it all sucketh mightily. Ok, off to cart a trolley + bag + backpack to another city. Oh and did I mention? It's fucking pouring. (On and off, but still. Bad moving day.)
ETA 2:30 Lunch first, 'cause hellooo rain. Also, 2:30 seems like a good time to eat. Especially since the exodos will take near 2 hours. Feh.
ETA 5:40 Am so tired, tried opening door with bank card. Hands feel and look like have been boxing a cheese grater and only managed to escape by swinging through monkey-bar planet. Shoulder hurts like billy-o, as does elbow. Would like nothing more than to sleep now. Instead, needs unpack a bag to redistribute the omgsoheavy weight into 3 bags. May be looking to another trip to Leiden - especially considering how unwielding miror and fern are - before coming back for the key and deposit change of hands (which is at bloody 9 pm). *weeps quietly* Maybe if I called and asked for help from friendish-friends, that'd be ok?
ETA 6:58 Asked for help from friends and got a "no" and a "you should've told me earlier". Now, it might just be that I'm all stressed out and exhausted and can't think too straight, but I didn't ask earlier 'cause I thought I'd be ok. And maybe it's incredibly selfish of me, but I'd sort of hoped a friend would actually make the connection of my moving and my maybe needing help all on their own. Y'know, just maybe cross their minds, wonder how I'm doing. Excuse me while I weep in exhaustion and then try and continue packing shit.
ETA 7:31 There is absolutely no humane way a single person can carry all that I have left in my room. It's just impossible. And I'm so mother-lovin' tired. The one time I honestly and desperately need a friend and their favour and they rat out on me. (I iz upset. I not hate friend. I understand. But still, I iz upset.)
ETA 9:37 I'm 390E richer, have some luggage stowed at Central Station, and am all set to skedaddle. There will be no unpacking tonight. (I think my bed sheets are at Elisa's anyway. Suckety.)
Links of the Day:
Nightmare Playgrounds Around the World
Morse Code Converter
Othello with Ewan McGregor and Chiwetel Ejiofor among drama spring highlights on Radio 3 - Available for sreaming on BBC site for 7 days, beginning May 4
versaphile compiles the Master's plots through the ages, with a scorecard!
* Jonathan Coulton, ibid song
Click to viewIn other news, this poem-excerpt off girlgreybeast's post makes me think of the Master (but then, what doesn't?):
It was the battering of drums I heard
It was hunger, it was the hungry that cried
And the waves, the waves were soldiers moving
Marching and marching in a tragic time
Below me, on the asphalt, under the trees.
Wallace Stevens, "Dry Loaf" (1938)
Ok, packing now.
ETA: Famished like my head's going to melt right off. Most of my stuff's packed now, though I fear I won't be able to physically carry it. Wish I had folk here to help me move. But it's a holiday and a post-holiday, and it all sucketh mightily. Ok, off to cart a trolley + bag + backpack to another city. Oh and did I mention? It's fucking pouring. (On and off, but still. Bad moving day.)
ETA 2:30 Lunch first, 'cause hellooo rain. Also, 2:30 seems like a good time to eat. Especially since the exodos will take near 2 hours. Feh.
ETA 5:40 Am so tired, tried opening door with bank card. Hands feel and look like have been boxing a cheese grater and only managed to escape by swinging through monkey-bar planet. Shoulder hurts like billy-o, as does elbow. Would like nothing more than to sleep now. Instead, needs unpack a bag to redistribute the omgsoheavy weight into 3 bags. May be looking to another trip to Leiden - especially considering how unwielding miror and fern are - before coming back for the key and deposit change of hands (which is at bloody 9 pm). *weeps quietly* Maybe if I called and asked for help from friendish-friends, that'd be ok?
ETA 6:58 Asked for help from friends and got a "no" and a "you should've told me earlier". Now, it might just be that I'm all stressed out and exhausted and can't think too straight, but I didn't ask earlier 'cause I thought I'd be ok. And maybe it's incredibly selfish of me, but I'd sort of hoped a friend would actually make the connection of my moving and my maybe needing help all on their own. Y'know, just maybe cross their minds, wonder how I'm doing. Excuse me while I weep in exhaustion and then try and continue packing shit.
ETA 7:31 There is absolutely no humane way a single person can carry all that I have left in my room. It's just impossible. And I'm so mother-lovin' tired. The one time I honestly and desperately need a friend and their favour and they rat out on me. (I iz upset. I not hate friend. I understand. But still, I iz upset.)
ETA 9:37 I'm 390E richer, have some luggage stowed at Central Station, and am all set to skedaddle. There will be no unpacking tonight. (I think my bed sheets are at Elisa's anyway. Suckety.)
Links of the Day:
Nightmare Playgrounds Around the World
Morse Code Converter
Othello with Ewan McGregor and Chiwetel Ejiofor among drama spring highlights on Radio 3 - Available for sreaming on BBC site for 7 days, beginning May 4
versaphile compiles the Master's plots through the ages, with a scorecard!
* Jonathan Coulton, ibid song