hathycol: (jack and donna)
Firstly: back still not healed. Apparently hauling library books and the Student Bag Deal from the greengrocers sends the whole thing into impressive spasms. Painkillers have taken the edge off it, but this promises to be another DocSoc evening that I'm mixing painkillers and alcohol. WAHEY.

Anyway. All that aside, I have survived my last Raisin Weekend. In the end, I swapped a daughter for another one (basically, one didn't turn up which was great for my late adoptee) and ended up with a fairly rocking party. As I was in the house by myself for all my preparations, I felt thoroughly domestic as rocked around to music and put things in the oven and made a cheese and pineapple hedgehog. (I'd spent the night before watching 'Einstein and Eddington' and alternating between weeping my eyes out at the sad bits and cleaning.) Then I got the fear that no one would turn up.

Fortunately, they did, after a few phone calls of "where the hell do you live?" We then processed to drink for about ten hours, which itermittent bits of food and mental party games, and eventually going out to the pub. ACE.

The morning afterwards was bloody tricky, I'll be the first to admit. My plan was to feed them and dress them up; mostly I fed them toast and coffee ('please god more coffee mum') and then dressed them up as burglars. Richie then gave them their Raisin Receipt - K-9 - and we dragged them through the freezing cold town. I must admit, it was bizarre to be the one not dresed up stupidly and carrying stuff, although at least I was still hungover.

Anyway, I basically won at kiddy parties. WAHEY. There'll be photos up soonish, honestly.

The rest of the week has been quiet, and this evening I will be hauling myself on a DocSoc pub crawl, which should be fun if my back behaves. I am then flinging myself into a combination of essay research, maths lessons (civil service applications, not good; I haven't studied maths for five years and you can tell, I got 3/15 on the practice session) and dissertation writing. GOOD-O.

argh

Oct. 8th, 2008 05:22 pm
hathycol: (an accident?)
Today has been the most awful day with one shiny bit of awesome news, leading to just feeling strangely full of ennui.

On the bad side: my car has been written off. I got a phone call from my assesser to tell me this. People think 'written off' means 'battered to hell and lucky to be alive'. This can be true, but in my case, it's 'the bodywork is screwed to hell in tiny little ways' and basically translates to being more to fix than it is worth.

As such, they have valued my car. It was worth - this is before people bang into the back of it - a grand total of £309. The damage is about £700 worth. My insurance excess, entertainingly, is £600. Oh, and my insurance people, due to how much my excess is, weren't going to pay me the money for the write-off, oh, 'and there's a query about liability so you may have to pay the excess?'

So I did what all good feminists do, and cried down the phone at the assesser. I then pulled myself together while he phoned around for me, and got a scrap dealer sorted out. A joint effort from my assessor and from my own initiative has led to me being exempt from excess due to, you know, car worth half of it and me finding a scrapper that will pick up the car and pay me £80 cash-in-hand for it. I have to dick around with all this nearer the time, but the point is, I'm finally going to have to give up my beloved Starbug. But Dad is looking for a car for me off the Ormskirk mafia and I've found an ad in the paper that fits the bill, and I have a bit saved up and a large overdraft. Also a solicitor to deal with my personal injury claim which means *crosses fingers* I might well be able to pay myself back in the next few months. Also my MOT and tax were both due, so at least I'm not losing out there.

Still, though, I would rather she had never hit me. I'm back at work, but standing up, it turns out, is not something I can do for more than an hour at a time without an ache in the bottom of my back. And I still can't lift anything, which I suspect my manager, who did all my delivery today, is probably delighted about.

YEAH YOU SEE WHY MY WEEK IS BAD.

My day was not all bad. In fact, one bit was marvellous. I'm not entirely sure if I'm allowed to legally talk about it, but a friend of mine has won something and I get to share in the prize. It's not the lottery - alas - but you know what? It might be better. I will tell more when I, er, legally can? No offence, I love you guys, but not enough to screw this up. T

And now I need a shower, as I'm going out with DocSoc tonight. Yay. I was looking forward to it, but now I'm just tired. Oddly eough.
hathycol: (happy legolas)
After managing to fuck up my back and my car for the benefit of an Amanda Palmer gig, I was beginning to wonder why I'd done it, mostly at about the point my back began seizing up in the library earlier today. However, I came home to discover the Who Killed Amanda Palmer CD had arrived in the post. (With the Oxford Dictionary of Saints, but that's by the by.)

And I'm listening to it, and remembering what she sounded like singing, and holy crap, yes, it was worth it. You don't even need to like the Dresden Dolls. Although if you've not listened to them I heartily recommend it, but that's by the by.

(Although I still haven't got my car back, so now I'm getting a bit concerned...)

In other news, I buggared up my back last night by laughing too much at a lethal combination of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and The Secret Policeman's Ball. Sorry, but, you know, between the Doctor and Edward rocking up in that film and Russell Howard in the latter I didn't stand a chance.

... okay, if laughing hurts it, tomorrow may be entertaining; I have work for four hours and then have to belt it immediately to class for two hours. Work says I can go early if it's too hard. We'll see. I still have to go to class (I'm already sciving one this month to go and see Neil Gaiman in Edinburgh, ahem) so, well, I may as well stick with it.
hathycol: (docsoc)
So, DocSoc went really well last night! An attempt to get to Morrisons led to my back spasming, which meant that we basically had no refreshments for the meeting. OH NOES I cried, and got the whole committee to rock up an hour early and sent them to Tescos for food while I sat on the sofa gingerly.

As lots of people turned up, I did my opening spiel, and then we had a mild crisis about the DVD player. Whilst this was resolved, we had straw polls "Hands up if you love Rose!" "Hands up if you want to shove Rose off a cliff!" (It was quite close, that one.)

When the DVD player turned up, we watched 'Spearhead from Space' which, in my opinion, is one of the best episodes of Who. I'm sorry, but I love it unconditionally. Even better, so did the forty-strong audience! They cheered, laughed, and took the whole thing in the spirit it was intended. We even got people to stay for the EGM and be in the committee, meaning there may well be a committee when all but three of us graduate in May! HURRAH.

In other news, I went to see my dissertation supervsor this morning and made quite frankly foolish promises regarding how much reading I was expecting to have done. My tactic of crying at him re: summer ("... and then everything was sorting itself out and then I had a car accident so quite frankly you'd have to really put some effort in to make matters worse!") worked, fortunately, and I did seem to impress him with my genuine enthusiasm.

Oh, and incidentally; freshers flu with whiplash? A NEW WORLD OF DISCOMFORT. The worst part is that I have yet to discover a position that does't make my back hurt or block up my sinuses.

And now for getting some work done. Possibly.
hathycol: (dresden dolls)
What a bloody weird twenty-four hours I have just experienced.

TO GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING as I believe is the vogue in current narratives, I went to my first class of my special subject yesterday, which promises to be interesting. Suffering as I am from full-blown freshers lurgy, I spent most of it trying not to cough.

However, I flung myself out of the door at the end of the class and threw myself into the car, preparing to drive to Edinburgh for the Amanda Palmer gig. I had full-blown excitement at this part, which only a faint nervousness that I would get lost.

What I was not expecting was to by hit by a car at a roundabout. Basically, another woman slammed into the bck of my car, but to be fair, she stopped and we exchanged details. My car and hers seemed fine, so I drove off, shaking quite a bit. I even got lost briefly, but found my way around - hurrah!

I got to the place I was leaving my car, I noticed my neck hurt a bit, but didn't think too much about it; instead, I got on a bus with Sascha and her boyfriend Gar and headed to Caberet Voltaire.

For someone who pretends to be cool and trendy I don't go to many gigs, but I am SO GLAD I came to this one. The support act was interesting enough, but oh my goodness, Amanda Palmer! I have massive fangirl love of the Dresden Dolls, but oh, she is about a million times more amazing than I expected. She had a dance troupe with her - and her broken foot, incidentally - which made the whole thing more like a proper show than just a gig. I can't remember everything she sang, but Coin-Operated Boy and Mrs O were particularly highlights. There was also a new track called 'Guitar Hero' (I think?) that I sort of just watched open-mouthed, as it was absolutely fabulous.

It was just... wonderful, and over far too soon. Unfortunately for me, I started to experience some exciting neck pain and shooting pains down my back, so it may well have been a good thing that the gig ended. I drove home and went to sleep.

Woke up in agony. Went to hospital, got whiplash as confirmed diagnosis - "the good news is it sorts itself out, the bad news is that it ges worse before it gets better" - and came home. I have spent all day sorting out car repairs and sick pay. Later on I have to go to DocSoc super-early and hope someone will help me in Tescos as I cannot a. lift anything b. bend myself c. raise my arms above my shoulder.

And on top of everything else my freshers flu is worse.

HOWEVER more importantly the gig? TOTALLY WORTH IT.

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