The (other) World of the Dynamite Lady

There are some days when doing a small, simple task seems to stretch out for several times as long as it should. Writing an abstract for a conference, for example, or sorting recycling. Today was not like that. I got up a little before 10. Gave up on getting a newspaper because by 1030 it's touch and go whether the local newsagents would still have an Observer, and I didn't want to go further afield. Worried a bit about whether I would get everything done that I normally do on Sundays - we're going to the pub this evening so that contracts things a bit. On that basis, I'd moved our usual roast dinner to lunchtime, which I knew would make the morning a bit less chilled than usual but would have the flipside of not having to worry about it in the evening.

By 1pm (lunchtime unless there is any reason to have it at another time) I'd managed to create a roast dinner, with my first attempt at vegan toad in the hole (tasted good but trashed my dish), and also make a batch of bread for packed lunches and do the first load of washing up. By half past two I'd washed my hair, done washing up load #2 (one of the few tasks I can do with a towel on my head and no glasses on) and dried/styled my hair. Then blogged the toad in the hole over at Veganicity. Haven't achieved much since about three though - time to have a shower and think about dinner!

Title courtesy of a dream I had last night - I was at a vegan meetup (not with my current local group, or not just with them) at a resturant everyone had been raving about - but our group was led through the nicer bits into a dark, cold and noticeably manky function room up a few flights of stairs. Luckily I woke up before having to eat anything there. The nadir was going to the loo - the bowl had similar falling-through-the-floor tendencies as the ones in the new bit of the Portland Building at Nottingham, only worse so I was keeping my weight on my hands on the floor while peeing. Then because I had dreamed about peeing I woke up worried that I'd wet myself, and was relieved to be able to go to my un-grotty bog along our short landing and cuddle with Ducki afterwards.

So, I'm back on DW for a bit because LJ seems to be down. I'm still not entirely sure if this is my problem or a wider one. But if it is a wider problem I'm hoping some of you will gravitate over here and find me on my little duck island. If you're someone I know and you want an invite, comment. It is weird coming back to DW after a long absence and reading the posts from two years ago, I thought I was demoralised now but that summer was one of the worst times in my life without much real reason for it. That was one reason I started posting here, I didn't feel the hysteria about LJ so much, but I wanted to blog all that stuff somewhere vaguely seperate. And now to be honest I just want to do some personal blogging somewhere. Veganicity is good but not the best place to talk about loo bowls falling through the floor.

For anyone who is still somehow checking in at this blog and hasn't found my real one, wow you're obsessive ;). The real news is that I've moved to Stirling (Scotland) with Ducki. I've been teaching part-time during the university terms, and spending the summer largely keeping my head down and doing PhD corrections (painfully slow with painful being the operative) and writing a conference paper about the Camp for Climate Action. We're looking at houses to buy. That's really up in the air though. I'm looking forward to moving somewhere a bit bigger than the flat we have. Now we've 'proved ourselves' - we know our relationship *can* survive being in an enclosed space together and seeing each other's mess, but we also know that this is a flashpoint for arguments and one that could be more easily avoided if we had a couple more rooms. So that's how it is. Just need to get something now.

And another thing, we're having serious internet bandwidth crap here. So while I'd love to post photos, that's not possible for a while. :(

Filler post because I feel the need to blog something light and fluffy rather than some of the darker and less fluffy thoughts doing the rounds of my brain cells. (The good stuff roundup is being saved for when I need it more!)

My attitude to cosmetics changes fairly often. In general though my policies are that a) I don't buy anything tested on animals and b) if putting the stuff on becomes a chore then I stop.

Often (especially in term-time and extra-especially at the start of each term), putting on relatively subdued makeup becomes part of my daily routine. At some point I hit a limit where I think 'hey, this is getting boring'. That's when I start cutting back on makeup or maybe saving it for times when I can get away with the more dramatic stuff. Other times, I feel pressure to look 'perfect' (not going to happen since my natural appearance is part of the raw material here!) by erasing all signs of stress. Then I rebel a bit. Or sometimes I make a conscious decision that if I feel like I 'need' makeup then it is time to do away with it altogether for a bit, because the 'need' isn't good for my self-esteem and my skin can't take foundation every day.

Right now, however, hiding my seemingly constant air of washed-outness while at work seems like a bit of a triumph. I have had a shitty summer term: can't blog any real details of my job, but in the light of a bereavement and an accident on top of a generally increased workload it can be difficult to keep up morale. People's reaction to my unfoundationed face might be the last straw there! More importantly, makeup tends to cheer me up - especially if I have scope to experiment with colour - and the routine involved calms me down and gives me a break from the racing my mind is prone to. If my hand is steady enough to hold an eyeliner brush when I get to that stage, I am less panicky than I was. And if I can be distracted from the worse aspects of my life by something that small, life can't be as bad as it sometimes appears!

No not *that* sort - what do you think I get up to when Ducki is away?!? No, the title refers to the first appearance of the electric fan in my living room. It took me a few hot days to realise that the thing I'd bought as a heater in the winter actually had a cold air function, and until now I've been content to leave it in the bedroom (where it lived from October to keep me warm while getting dressed) and use it to air the place for a bit each night before trying to sleep. Today, however, having the openable windows open wasn't enough, even if I did find the ventilation hatch on the landing skylight. (the living room windows probably *do* open, but sodded if I can work out how!) So I removed the piles of newspapers from around the coffee table (funny how they get dropped there rather than miraculously flying to the recycling area), excavated the electric socket and plugged the fan in. It has pride of place on the coffee table and has improved things a lot!

Should I feel bad that I want to be on here? Ok, my day-to-day look is a whole lot more practical than the folks on here - right now I am wearing a black t-shirt and loose black linen trousers, with dye-covered hair piled on top of my head, and my going-out clothes involve enough cleavage and fishnet-age to ward off any thoughts of overheating, and my normal concession to summer is a tube of factor 50 and a huge floppy black sunhat. And I know that the site is to a great extent taking the piss out of goths. But still, I WANT!