Son, can you play me a memory
I admit, this is possibly one of these irrational dislike things, but I swear to God, there is nothing I don't hate about Ticketmaster. I'm not entirely convinced they aren't agents of the devil. When I have tickets for £13, I think charging me £32 for both, and a charge for *picking them up* rather than having them delivered is hugely annoying. As is making me register before I can even get them, and then giving me three minutes to get them before having to start all the fuck over again. Also, letting me opt out of having my information disclosed to other parties, and then below that telling me that as part of the terms and conditions they're going to do it anyway is pissy. Gah! The rage, it is strong.
And you know what else? Not using some form of recorded delivery, and then saying they won't refund if tickets are alleged to be undelivered *after* you've picked that option (because obviously you can't actually read any conditions while you book, 'cause that would take longer than your generous three minutes)... Yeah, whatever.
Ahem. Anyway, Thea Gilmore tickets are now mine (if they actually send me them). And, um, I also may have bought Billy Joel tickets, and convinced my friend to go, too. I am clearly old.
***
See, the problem with not updating when you meant to is that you end up with a whole lot to say. Cambridge was hot and lovely, with many pubs and cafés, though all the good theatre activities start this weekend, which was disappointing. My sister and I also only had, like, half an argument, which is pretty good for us. She also got the job -- the reason we went in the first place was so she could meet the guy she's going to be working for -- so she'll be moving there in January, probably, which sent my mum into a frenzy of looking at estate agents and considering mortgage rates. Chris and I are planning what we can do with her room. I'm kidding. Really.
And, in exciting news, by Monday night, I will be in Florida. I dunno what's going on, but we've clearly reached the age where it's okay to go on holiday with our parents again, 'cause it is, for the first time in years, a family holiday. Though my brother isn't going, which is a little disappointing 'cause we have mutual banter and sarcasm love that the rest of the family aren't necessarily so fond of. But still, Florida! A villa and a swimming pool and good weather! And thunderstorms. It's all good. Except for the part where I might have to start selling body parts, 'cause I booked Milan before this was ever on the table. If anyone wants to steal stuff with me, you should let me know.
The only tiny downside is that Dogdays is probably going to pass me by this year, which I didn't expect, because, you know, July, and that was a lot of fun last year (how has that been a year?). I'll be back for the last week, though. There's also a birthday or two, I believe, while I'm away, but presents fic can be delivered when I'm back. *g*
***
I didn't see Pirates last night, 'cause I very stupidly double booked myself. I had a lovely dinner, instead, though the combination of wine, cocktails and tequila meant I felt a little off this morning, even if I wasn't remotely drunk at the time. Not sure when the lack of Captain Jack will be remedied, either. Sunday was the planned alternative, but I'm not sure now. Maybe the parents will be persuaded to see it while we're away, 'cause two weeks seems unacceptably long to go without seeing it, even with the mixed reviews I've read this afternoon. And seriously, I already know that I'm going to wish it was shorter. 6 hours, or however long the running time actually is, is too long. What happened to the short film? What?
And finally, in this ridiculous ramble of a post, oatmeal and raisin cookies are much better than I gave them credit for. I feel I've been most unfair in writing them off all these years.
And you know what else? Not using some form of recorded delivery, and then saying they won't refund if tickets are alleged to be undelivered *after* you've picked that option (because obviously you can't actually read any conditions while you book, 'cause that would take longer than your generous three minutes)... Yeah, whatever.
Ahem. Anyway, Thea Gilmore tickets are now mine (if they actually send me them). And, um, I also may have bought Billy Joel tickets, and convinced my friend to go, too. I am clearly old.
***
See, the problem with not updating when you meant to is that you end up with a whole lot to say. Cambridge was hot and lovely, with many pubs and cafés, though all the good theatre activities start this weekend, which was disappointing. My sister and I also only had, like, half an argument, which is pretty good for us. She also got the job -- the reason we went in the first place was so she could meet the guy she's going to be working for -- so she'll be moving there in January, probably, which sent my mum into a frenzy of looking at estate agents and considering mortgage rates. Chris and I are planning what we can do with her room. I'm kidding. Really.
And, in exciting news, by Monday night, I will be in Florida. I dunno what's going on, but we've clearly reached the age where it's okay to go on holiday with our parents again, 'cause it is, for the first time in years, a family holiday. Though my brother isn't going, which is a little disappointing 'cause we have mutual banter and sarcasm love that the rest of the family aren't necessarily so fond of. But still, Florida! A villa and a swimming pool and good weather! And thunderstorms. It's all good. Except for the part where I might have to start selling body parts, 'cause I booked Milan before this was ever on the table. If anyone wants to steal stuff with me, you should let me know.
The only tiny downside is that Dogdays is probably going to pass me by this year, which I didn't expect, because, you know, July, and that was a lot of fun last year (how has that been a year?). I'll be back for the last week, though. There's also a birthday or two, I believe, while I'm away, but presents fic can be delivered when I'm back. *g*
***
I didn't see Pirates last night, 'cause I very stupidly double booked myself. I had a lovely dinner, instead, though the combination of wine, cocktails and tequila meant I felt a little off this morning, even if I wasn't remotely drunk at the time. Not sure when the lack of Captain Jack will be remedied, either. Sunday was the planned alternative, but I'm not sure now. Maybe the parents will be persuaded to see it while we're away, 'cause two weeks seems unacceptably long to go without seeing it, even with the mixed reviews I've read this afternoon. And seriously, I already know that I'm going to wish it was shorter. 6 hours, or however long the running time actually is, is too long. What happened to the short film? What?
And finally, in this ridiculous ramble of a post, oatmeal and raisin cookies are much better than I gave them credit for. I feel I've been most unfair in writing them off all these years.