rhondacrockett: (batmint - dava)
Christmas is almost on top of us and I still have to get presents. I'm starting to panic because I have no idea what to get them...
rhondacrockett: (Lookit me)
THE EYES! THE SOULLESS DEAD ZOMBIE EYES!!!

Sketchy Sunday 25 photo SketchySunday25_zps27ed369e.jpg

Sketchy Sunday 26 photo SketchySunday26_zpsa7942690.jpg


*weeps in silent terror*

I am so unhappy with these, it's not even funny. I can't do noses, I can't do men's lips, I can't do chins, AND FREAKING CRAP ON A HELL STICK THOSE EYES ARRRRGHHHH!!!

I must apologise to the guy who "modelled" for pictures one and two in week 25. Yes, it is supposed to be the same man; he is quite well known, largely considered handsome. The pictures look absolutely nothing like him. Hell, in the second one, he looks like Prince Charles!!! (At one point he looked like Ronald Reagan. I can't decide if Prince Charles is an improvement or not DX) Sir, I am so SO sorry.

Most of these are supposed to be practice for the Mysterious Thing of Mystery which I mentioned in week 24. On the basis of these past two weeks, I think I should give up on it.

:(
rhondacrockett: (Lookit me)
So I need white shoes to go with my outfit for my brother's wedding. You would think that would be easy, right? Wrong! All either too casual or too short or too big or too high-heeled ARRRGH!!!!! I have trailed through a dozen or more shoe shops and found nothing, so I have been reduced to ordering from Amazon, the evil blighters.

Anyway, whilst scrolling through their list of "white shoes women", I came across these monstrosities. I actually swore out loud when I saw them. OW TOES HOW THE FUDGSICLES DO YOU WALK SHOES ARE SUPPOSED TO ALLOW YOU TO WALK I DON'T EVEN AUGH!!!!

This just confirms my conviction that fashion is evil.
rhondacrockett: (Lookit me)
...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am FINALLY getting Karen Hallion's Belle and the TARDIS on a T-shirt which is NOT that hideous green which is the only colour it was available in up until now!!!! (I went with the charcoal.) IT IS SO STUPID THE LEVEL OF EXCITED I AM ABOUT A FRICKING T-SHIRT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

I also got the Cinderella one in navy because it just looked so good! But Belle's the one I've really been after. She and Mary Poppins are my two favourites of Ms Hallion's Disney/Doctor mash-ups, and I got the Mary Poppins one about a month ago through another site. My collection is now complete *happy sigh*
rhondacrockett: (loneliness & the assassin)
Our dog Jipp took a nasty turn yesterday morning. When Mum let her out of the kennel, she couldn't control her back legs and kept collapsing to the right. She had to go over to the fence and use it to prop herself up. When she got into the house, the back legs went completely. Her eye were flickering left and right, clearly out of her control, and she drooled everywhere - our dogs never drool. At one point she lost control of her bowels.

It was horrible. And then we couldn't get hold of the vets. The phone was just dead. Sharon - our vet-in-training - was down in Dublin, probably not awake and always in need of her sleep, so we were stuck in our ignorance and panic.

But - finally - the call went through. Amy and Mum bundled Jipp up in a quilt cover and used it to carry her into the car. (I wasn't there for this next bit.) The vet was waiting for them and helped them carry Jipp, still in the quilt, into the waiting room. When they laid her down on the floor - up she got and walked out the door >.<

She was still very shaky on her back legs, her eyes still tracking rapidly from side to side, never resting, so the vet could see something was badly wrong. His conclusion was either a mini-stroke or a brain tumour. As she seemed to be recovering a little, he gave her a steroid, an antibiotic and a vitamin shot to help her along and said to bring her back the next day (i.e. today) for observation and blood tests.

By this time, Sharon had been awakened. She explained that the drooling was a sign of nausea; the way Jipp's eyes had been moving, it would have been akin to seasickness.

Jipp got steadily better throughout the day yesterday, although she was lethargic for a long time. Today, she was right back to her usual, boisterous self. You wouldn't know she had ever been ill. Mum phoned to see if the vets still wanted her for observation, but it was decided that since she seemed normal again, we were to treat her with steroids (Sharon says this is the usual treatment for brain tumours) and take her in for an appointment on Thursday.

Meanwhile, Sharon is bemoaning that this has all happened while she wasn't here. If she could have examined Jipp, seen the symptoms herself, it would not only have been great practice but it would have helped the vet out too, having an (almost) professsional report. (It would have calmed us down too.)

Sharon also isn't convinced about the diagnosis of a brain tumour. She has suggested it might be a problem with the inner ear. Apparently, this can happen - the inner ear goes wonky, dog loses balance, and then everything rights itself after a while - and no one knows what causes it. Again, if she had been here, she would know better if the symptoms fit that diagnosis or not.

I'm just relieved that this is past and that it seems we don't have to put Jipp down. She's an old dog and I really thought yesterday morning when I saw her that this was it, this was the end of the line. And Sheba, her litter-mate - how would she have taken it? Jipp has gone for several surgeries and overnight stays - she has a recurring benign tumour on one of her back legs, on the thigh close to that backward-pointing joint - and Sheba clearly misses her when she's gone :( If it is a tumour, then it's treatable with steroids (although she will be on them for the rest of her life). If it's this inner-ear thing, then it's a temporary condition which apparently cures itself (I'm not sure whether it would be a re-occuring condition, though, and it's horrible to see it happening).
rhondacrockett: (Default)
Hmm, let's see... do I have anything to talk about today?

Oh yes! The electricity went off in my flat last night. Lights, sockets, kitchen, TV room: everything except the lights in the corridor went off (there are a number of different circuits in the flat). We all came out into the corridor and had a confab in front of the door to the circuit board until the electrician arrived. All those people, who'd been sequestered in their rooms (myself included), came out and socialised. We decided we were being punished by the god of accommodation and we were going to light candles and offer sacrifices to the circuit box to ensure it wouldn't happen again. I think we scared the electrician a bit lol.

Anyway, I think the incident says something about isolation and social skills and modern technology. I didn't even realise that some people who appeared were in Guthrie.

I was also accused of being a prostitute by some random and very angry old man yesterday. Or I think that's what he accused me of; he was talking so fast I couldn't make out a word he said, except for "prostitute" and "look like a fool". It was bizarre and a little scary, cos I met him in a sidestreet, which had been narrowed down by fences put up around some building work on one side. *shivers*

And today, I've been reading something interesting for a change (hurrah!). It's Jonathan Culler's The Pursuit of Signs. I don't agree with a lot of what he's saying, but I understand it much better than some of the crap I've had to read, and I'm actually having fun "arguing" with him.
rhondacrockett: (Lookit me)
And I saw a mighty host descend from on high, bearing swords of flame, And they were sent forth to bring fear and trembling upon the unready and the weak of heart, And there was great wailing in that place.

Differentiation. Today. 4.15.

I am so dead.
rhondacrockett: (Lookit me)
So, remember how I had a date for differentiation - Wednesday next week? Well, I got a letter just yesterday to tell me the time and what I'm supposed to provide.

The first thing I thought reading it was: "What 3000-word application?!?!?"

The second thing was, "And this 3000-word application, which I am only learning about now, has to be in by tomorrow?!?!?!?!?"

The third thing was, "Ummm, there is absolutely no mention here of submitting a sample chapter."

And the fourth thing was, "The interview panel will be sitting for 15 minutes before I am allowed in?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?" At which point, I collapsed under the weight of question and exclamation marks.

Nervous much? No, just plain TERRIFIED.

Damnit, Philip, why didn't you remember to ask for yesterday off at work??? I would have got this letter on Monday, but instead I was at home acting as chauffeur and didn't get it until yesterday evening, when I had no computer access! AHHHHH!!!
rhondacrockett: (Lookit me)
[What just happened?! I had an entry almost written and all of a sudden, it disappears and I'm looking at Sparkler's last journal entry! All I did was touch the roller button on the mouse.]

So. I'm going to meet Mark's nurse for the first time today. We're going to view the flat on Wellesley Av. It's actually next door to the place I used to live.

Yeah, I'm anxious about it. I don't know this girl at all. We know about each other only at third hand - Mark knows someone who knows her. And there's only the two of us, so I'm thinking, that's pretty intense living arrangements. I'm used with groups of four or five. With just two people, I hope we don't start banging each other against the walls.

At some stage, I want to interrogate her Twenty Questions-style, to try and worm out any possible conflict areas before we actually move in together. I don't want her thinking I'm this horribly blunt person (I'm not; if anything, I tend to repress and not talk about things), but I'd rather learn whether we could annoy each other now and make some kind of arrangement to circumvent it. I think she's already a little alarmed by me. I talked to her on the mobile for the first time yesterday, and I was like, "Well, yes I'm looking for a house, I heard about you through my brother, I've already got a couple of possibilities here, when would you be available for viewings, I'll get it all arranged." And she was kinda like, "...Oh. OK. You sure you're alright with this?" I don't want to scare her off any more than I have to, because (a) I have to share with someone, there's no way I can afford to rent on my own and (b) if I lived on my own, I would go nuts. The bad kind of nuts, the certifiable kind of nuts, not just my usual nuts, which I am all the time anyway and which I rather enjoy.

"Conflict areas." I sound like a marriage counsellor! *bangs head against the desk*

Oh, and here's that thing I nicked from Sparkler:

1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. When and how did we meet?
4. Do you have a crush on me?
5. Would you kiss me?
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
7. Describe me in one word.
8. What was your first impression?
9. Do you still think that way about me now?
10. What reminds you of me?
11. If you could give me anything what would it be?
12. How well do you know me?
13. When's the last time you saw me?
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
15. Are you going to put this on your LiveJournal and see what I say about you?

#You want to suffer and show me you're angry
Fight with your fists up, or call for your mommy

[...]

You change your shoelaces
I light firecrackers
You step on the sparks#
rhondacrockett: (Lookit me)
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!! Joanna got her fake baby thing yesterday for her sex education group. Good grief, that thing is ugly. It looks like it's got permanent trapped wind. And it's heavy. Alright, so I know babies are heavy. But they're not heavy in a big-square-brick-of-a-battery-unit-in-the-back way.

Joanna's threatening to make us babysit it. *shudders* I find baby dolls unnerving at the best of times, but the moving, talking ones are especially evil. I get the creeps every time a Zaphff Creations ad comes on. Baby Annabel is the spawn of Satan, I tell you!

Speaking of Satan, I think the bit of Hell on the Greenwich Meridian just froze over. It is soooo cold out there! Damn hunger for making me get out of bed!

American actors need to learn not to mumble. Or talk so fast.
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