Update regarding monks
Ok, first things first. This post has nothing to do with monks. I just read that line somewhere and it stuck in my head. I really wish I had read what came after. Context can be so helpful.
I have now watched the entire four and fifth series of Six Feet Under. I tried to upgrade my unemployed status from intermediate to advanced by launching straight into Twin Peaks back to back, but even I can't hack that much couch.
Not sure what I am doing at the moment. I have been accepted into a masters degree that I think that I would love to do, but I have just read the large print that says that, though part time, it does need one half day a week. Without a job lined up it seem a little rash to commence studying and then find a suitably accommodating employer. I have until the end of the month to accept the study (meaning mid next week), but the jury is well and truly out and getting drunk at the court house local so who knows. They will have to reconvene sometime soon, though, cause time waits for no man and seems to have a particular eye on me.
In music news, I bought tickets to Four Tet recently for an "intimate" gig Fabric. I don't know how intimate Fabric gets, but it does make the mind boggle a tad.
In even less relevant news, London stinks! As in, literally it is a very smelly place. I haven't been in a situation before where I have been so acutely aware that humans, like any other animals, have an oder that is not exactly peachy. I think that it is partly the population density, or maybe they all just have really weak bladders from all the Pimms, but whatever it is there are patches of wiffyness that hang in the air around bus stops and tube stations. Pretty nasty stuff.
This weekend is the Notting Hill carnival which is apparently the largest of its type outside of Rio. Given that it is packed into a few tiny London blocks, the fact that it is absolute mayhem may not be too much of a surprise. I have been told that the "go" is to get there in the morning and then get the hell out while you still have your wallet. Seeing as this seems about par with Brixton weekday, I am not all that worried, but we will see. I have just started knitting a scarf and between that and cups of tea I am absolutely flat chat.
I have now watched the entire four and fifth series of Six Feet Under. I tried to upgrade my unemployed status from intermediate to advanced by launching straight into Twin Peaks back to back, but even I can't hack that much couch.
Not sure what I am doing at the moment. I have been accepted into a masters degree that I think that I would love to do, but I have just read the large print that says that, though part time, it does need one half day a week. Without a job lined up it seem a little rash to commence studying and then find a suitably accommodating employer. I have until the end of the month to accept the study (meaning mid next week), but the jury is well and truly out and getting drunk at the court house local so who knows. They will have to reconvene sometime soon, though, cause time waits for no man and seems to have a particular eye on me.
In music news, I bought tickets to Four Tet recently for an "intimate" gig Fabric. I don't know how intimate Fabric gets, but it does make the mind boggle a tad.
In even less relevant news, London stinks! As in, literally it is a very smelly place. I haven't been in a situation before where I have been so acutely aware that humans, like any other animals, have an oder that is not exactly peachy. I think that it is partly the population density, or maybe they all just have really weak bladders from all the Pimms, but whatever it is there are patches of wiffyness that hang in the air around bus stops and tube stations. Pretty nasty stuff.
This weekend is the Notting Hill carnival which is apparently the largest of its type outside of Rio. Given that it is packed into a few tiny London blocks, the fact that it is absolute mayhem may not be too much of a surprise. I have been told that the "go" is to get there in the morning and then get the hell out while you still have your wallet. Seeing as this seems about par with Brixton weekday, I am not all that worried, but we will see. I have just started knitting a scarf and between that and cups of tea I am absolutely flat chat.
posted by tangles at 9:08 AM
5 Comments:
It's intimate compared to say, a football stadium...
Speaking of scareves - would you mind casting on for me?
xx
No problemo chicken dear. Only too happy to cast you on. How many stiches are we talkin though? Over 30 and I start chargin.
How was Poland? Run into any poles? (oh mirth)
know what you mean about the smell. parts of london (hammersmith) had some fiercely organic smells loitering around.
strangely, whenever i now smell something which is: horrible, organic, and in the city; i think of london.
i think it smells like wee.
London is to wee as cordial is to (American) lemonade.
Post a Comment
<< Home