(no subject)
All I have done for the past two days is shop. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that.
I finished my course two days ago and booked time off work because I've still got a few days to take off before April (it seems my plan to make up all the time i've missed before April has fallen by the wayside, mostly because I don't care). My initial idea of doing things with friends seems to have not occurred, somehow. So instead I've purchased a good many things.
Some are justified. I bought myself some new shoes for work, which will hopefully fit me. My previous set of new shoes, a very sensible pair of black leather flats from Clarks, of all places, completely shredded my feet, leading to bleeding, blisters and rubbing. Never before have I described a pair of shoes as crippling and meant it, but these truly were. My ankles were aching because I was changing the way I walked to minimize the pain. I hope to never wear them again.
I also bought my mum a very nice mother's day present; a bag of compost maker and a selection of seeds. This simple purchase required a ridiculous amount of planning, for the simple fact that there are very few gardening shops in London. Googling led me only to shops in very southwest London, or ones on A roads that required car access. I have no idea what the many allotment holders in London do for supplies. Eventually I tracked down a Homebase in Finchley Road and made quite the trip across London to get there. As the announcers read out the long list of delays and suspensions my mood decreased. Sometimes I really dislike the tube. Thankfully Finchley Road also has an excellent Sainsburys, which made me nostalgic for the one in Nottingham. The Tesco Express round here just doesn't cut it. They didn't even have digestives today, something urgently needed for the Mother's Day cheesecake I'm making tomorrow.
Other purchases are not so justified. Like the theatre tickets I bought for Waiting For Godot. Which cost me £90 in total. In my defence, Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart are starring. But I was hoping for something less wince-inducing. Or the packet of highlighters which seemed like an excellent plan at the time.
Other purchases are just confused; I walked into the acoustic folk instrument shop opposite Foyles hoping to have a look around and was completely taken aback to find it was one room. The rather nice shop assistant asked me if I wanted anything and I garbled something about soft guitar strings. Which I now have. Except I wanted a TUNER, a guitar TUNER. But I'm pretty sure I saw a lute in there.
Of course, I haven't been entirely shopping for the past few days. I've also had my laptop on all day, attempting to download Rough Trade at the BBC from iplayer. About ten hours after it first started, it has three MBs left to go. This is why people resort to piracy.
I've also been listening to a lot of radio programmes, when iplayer hasn't packed itself in for no particular reason. Of interest to people reading this may be Ursula LeGuin at 80, and a series called You'll Never Be Sixteen Again, on 6Music's Play It Again slot. It's a (so far) six part series on teenagers and youth culture. I've gotten up to hippies, although I've yet to start. I think so far I preferred the Mod programmes; I particularly liked the interesting detail that the reason Merseyside bands did so well was because Liverpool was a port, and so one of the few places where American guitars and imported albums were available.
Also Call Yourself A Feminist? is decent, and I'm quite looking forward to a two-part documentary on Yiddish. Oh, my crazy life.
This evening I'm home alone, as I will be for most of the weekend, as my two flatmates have gone to visit their families. My neighbours are playing music especially loudly. I'm reading about Saints and waiting for rough trade to download.
I finished my course two days ago and booked time off work because I've still got a few days to take off before April (it seems my plan to make up all the time i've missed before April has fallen by the wayside, mostly because I don't care). My initial idea of doing things with friends seems to have not occurred, somehow. So instead I've purchased a good many things.
Some are justified. I bought myself some new shoes for work, which will hopefully fit me. My previous set of new shoes, a very sensible pair of black leather flats from Clarks, of all places, completely shredded my feet, leading to bleeding, blisters and rubbing. Never before have I described a pair of shoes as crippling and meant it, but these truly were. My ankles were aching because I was changing the way I walked to minimize the pain. I hope to never wear them again.
I also bought my mum a very nice mother's day present; a bag of compost maker and a selection of seeds. This simple purchase required a ridiculous amount of planning, for the simple fact that there are very few gardening shops in London. Googling led me only to shops in very southwest London, or ones on A roads that required car access. I have no idea what the many allotment holders in London do for supplies. Eventually I tracked down a Homebase in Finchley Road and made quite the trip across London to get there. As the announcers read out the long list of delays and suspensions my mood decreased. Sometimes I really dislike the tube. Thankfully Finchley Road also has an excellent Sainsburys, which made me nostalgic for the one in Nottingham. The Tesco Express round here just doesn't cut it. They didn't even have digestives today, something urgently needed for the Mother's Day cheesecake I'm making tomorrow.
Other purchases are not so justified. Like the theatre tickets I bought for Waiting For Godot. Which cost me £90 in total. In my defence, Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart are starring. But I was hoping for something less wince-inducing. Or the packet of highlighters which seemed like an excellent plan at the time.
Other purchases are just confused; I walked into the acoustic folk instrument shop opposite Foyles hoping to have a look around and was completely taken aback to find it was one room. The rather nice shop assistant asked me if I wanted anything and I garbled something about soft guitar strings. Which I now have. Except I wanted a TUNER, a guitar TUNER. But I'm pretty sure I saw a lute in there.
Of course, I haven't been entirely shopping for the past few days. I've also had my laptop on all day, attempting to download Rough Trade at the BBC from iplayer. About ten hours after it first started, it has three MBs left to go. This is why people resort to piracy.
I've also been listening to a lot of radio programmes, when iplayer hasn't packed itself in for no particular reason. Of interest to people reading this may be Ursula LeGuin at 80, and a series called You'll Never Be Sixteen Again, on 6Music's Play It Again slot. It's a (so far) six part series on teenagers and youth culture. I've gotten up to hippies, although I've yet to start. I think so far I preferred the Mod programmes; I particularly liked the interesting detail that the reason Merseyside bands did so well was because Liverpool was a port, and so one of the few places where American guitars and imported albums were available.
Also Call Yourself A Feminist? is decent, and I'm quite looking forward to a two-part documentary on Yiddish. Oh, my crazy life.
This evening I'm home alone, as I will be for most of the weekend, as my two flatmates have gone to visit their families. My neighbours are playing music especially loudly. I'm reading about Saints and waiting for rough trade to download.