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Of Sneaky Subconsciousness October 24, 2008

Posted by Jen in : A363 Open University, Journal , 37 comments

Deary me. And *sigh*. You get the drift. Somewhere along the way recently, I’ve fallen into a big, black hole. I didn’t see it coming at all and must assume that someone had covered it over with a leaf or something to trick me good ‘n’ proper.

It hasn’t been much fun inside the hole – in fact, the (w)hole thing has been rather crapsome. Crapulous. To the power of 67 with poo on top. *Sigh*

My writing and course oomph has not broken down so much as been machine gunned against a wall until slumped hopelessly, beyond resuscitation. I just don’t know if I’m up to the job. The forum where we post up bits of writing/assignments is full of top-notch stuff. Needless to say, there are no dripping wounds of mine up there. People’s TMAs are sitting proudly, being polished and buffed before submission next week.

Me? I still have my limping Rentaghost wotsit rumbling away. Yesterday, I could see some glimmers of light sneaking into the hole. I bailed out of yet another rehearsal with The Orchestra of the Undead, stuck my head in my books and tried to have some thoughts. I would study, be vino-free and go to bed with Alan Ayckbourn and wake up to an epiphany of the highest order.

And, I swear, despite almost being of the age now where I have to defend my old-fogey music as timeless classics that this is not something that should be in my Brian for any reason.

The hole is taunting me; the 2am epiphany that woke me with my heart thumping was this. *Sigh*

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Of Furtive Friday Fumblings October 17, 2008

Posted by Jen in : Journal , 20 comments

Well, whey hey and all that. But there aren’t really any fumblings, furtive or otherwise. Sorry about that.

Lovely Karen and equally lovely Leigh have given me this purdy award and asked me to witter about things. And who am I to decline? Churlish is a good word but not a good trait. So here you are.

1. Where is your mobile? On my desk in front of me, waiting for the alarm to go off at 6.30.

2. Where is your significant other? Hiding in his study because it’s too early to listen to the words coming out of my mouth. Apparently.

3. Your hair colour? Dark, chocolately brown, according to t’box

4. Your mother? Asleep, I should think. Or moaning. Or worrying.

5. Your father? Noisy nutjob.

6. Your favorite thing? Wine. Of course. And Siu Mai (prawn dumplings) from Marks and Spencer. Addicted. I load my trolley up every Sat with a pack for each night and don’t bother with proper food. Nom nom nom.

7. Your dream last night? No idea. I dreamt about Smithy from The Bill the night before though.

8. Your dream/goal? To live happily ever after.

9. The room you’re in? My study. Close to the kitchen where the oven is doing things to a baguette for No. 2 son’s lunch. Plus it’s freeeeeezing in the conservatory. Brrrrrr.

10. Your hobby? Tootling the flute in a chamber orchestra

11. Your fear? To end up knowing that I didn’t try hard enough.

12. Where do you want to be in six years? Earning a living as a writer and searching for a house in France.

13. Where were you last night? At home, watching The Bill and The Restaurant and Never Mind the Buzzcocks and not at a rehearsal with the Orchestra of the Undead, which is where I was supposed to be. Shhhhhh. I don’t think they noticed.

14. What you’re not? A pantomime horse.

15. One of your wish-list items? Um… nothing really. I don’t crave ’stuff’. Less messy children?

16. Where you grew up? Jersey. The rock off the coast of France, not that newfangled one in those there Americas.

17. The last thing you did? Made a cuppa and asked lovely bf if he did want to kiss me very much.

18. What are you wearing? Brown jim-jams, pale blue dressing gown and Fit Flops. Vee stylish, I think you’ll agree.

19. Your TV?   In the sitting room. Off.

20. Your pets? Dog, looking smug after killing spree last night. The evidence? A seriously big spider, splatted spread-eagled on the sitting room skirting board. He’s a gonna-be writer’s dog. He only kills alliteratively. Good, eh?

21. Your computer? Mac and Maccy-lappy. I can’t work them properly but I can at least pretend to be a bit cool.

22. Your mood?  Slightly don’t-want-to-walk-the-dog-in-the-woods-in-the-morning-dark-ish.

23. Missing someone? No - honestly, I haven’t misplaced the children since they were little.

24. Your car? Covered in mud, inside and out. Dog and rugby-brute Son No. 1. Not a combo cut out for cleanliness.

25. Something you’re not wearing?  A bowler hat with a red carnation sellotaped to it.

26. Favourite shop? One that sells food. I hate any other sort of shopping. I have tolerance of 10 mins, 3 shops and then I want to go for lunch.

27. Your summer? During the summertime, which I often find is the best time to have it due to the weather.

28. Love someone? Of course, what sort of hard-hearted beast do you take me for?

29. Your favorite color? Green. What a boring question. I seem to quite like wearing purple at the mo but that makes me sound a bit Prince so best I don’t mention it.

30. When is the last time you laughed? Yesterday. I’m always guffawing like a crazy person at things I don’t understand.

31. Last time you cried? Oh, not for days. But I’m always bawling like a crazy person etc etc etc. Full moon. Things. Cryingness. You know how it is.

Well, I’m sure that has guaranteed me a slot of Jonathan Ross’ sofa sometime.

I shall pass this on to Lucy (cos her blog is truly beautiful), Hullaballoooooo (cos she’s so tartanly scrumptious) and Thursday (because she’s clever and arty and I’m just a little bit in awe of her).

Right, time to attend to the dressing gown situation, methinks.

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The Will to Witter (Witlessly) October 9, 2008

Posted by Jen in : A363 Open University, Journal , 32 comments

On this cloudless, motionless morning in East Sussex, I ask of you this, dear reader:  do you perchance have a torch about your person?

I seem to have lost my words.  Usually, I have too many words.  They’re bursting out of me all the time, a fevered frenzy of communicative clamour.  Real life seems a little unreal right now and this is feeding through to the writing I am doing for A363.  I have wondered whether this slight madness has anything to do with my NHS-approved* self-medication of VodkaLemsip cocktails.  When not slurping these up through a straw and alarming the neighbours with my impressive phlegm-expulsion techniques, I am writing crazy-fool stuff about Northern stand-up comedians who accidentally become vicars in tiny Spanish towns.  And I have been thinking about Jesus a lot.  Our Saviour.  Riding up and down Heathfield High Street on a bicycle whilst wearing an orange beret.  And what his mother would say about the whole thing.  And I’m going to write about it and post it on the workshop forum and then regret it and have a little cry.

So.  If you have seen my sensible words anywhere, do let me know as soon as possible.  If not sooner.  Ta very much.

* not quite true, actually