tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63518842011-04-21T23:02:03.151ZBecause it's a long time till hometime when you have your own office.rachelcnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1141100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1163349440954529162006-11-12T16:10:00.002Z2006-11-12T19:17:54.840Z

I went to an arty party last night. When I got there, everyone was introduced to me by way of a one-word description of what they "did". Some people were artists, some people were musicians, some people were film-makers. So far so arty.And then people started to ask me what I did. This caused me some problems. I'm allegedly writing a novel, but in honesty I've not written a word of it since about

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1161344196974555782006-10-20T11:02:00.000Z2006-10-20T11:36:36.976Z

I went swimming today. When I got in the pool, I was the only person in there. So I popped into the slow lane to practice my newly acquired Underwater Swimming Technique. After a while my head bobbed above the water, and what should I see but an old lady, who was wearing glasses. So far, so unusual. But - to my considerable chagrin - she was limbering up to get into the middle lane.Yes, the

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1160698497427330092006-10-12T23:53:00.000Z2006-10-13T06:45:26.040Z

For some reason, I woke up today and wanted to listen Haircut 100. I'm not sure why. Possibly it's because the arrival of Autumn has made me want to lie in some leaves wearing an Aran jumper. Or possibly it's because I'm in love with Nick Heyward. (What's 25 years to an unrequited pop star crush?) Or possibly it's because I want to jump around my bedroom to Fantastic Day like I did when I was 8.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1156623043452157582006-08-26T19:14:00.000Z2006-08-26T20:23:12.243Z

Although I know that almost no one reads this (including, erm, me), I managed to pick up a leaflet from my gym that itemises the waxing services they offer and - because I still don't want to do any work - I thought I might just recap on what WTTM reallly means. Upon further scrutiny, it appears that the Full Year's Waxing for £450 only, yes - ONLY entitles you to "off-peak" waxing. For those

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1156603238036386782006-08-26T14:24:00.000Z2006-08-26T15:09:12.913Z

Because I quite often work at home (no longer in my own office, but - rather less glamorously - in my bedroom) I find myself quite regularly in the position of having to tidy my bedroom before I can happily settle down to work. And because I attract clutter in the same way a little old lady with a bag of breadcrumbs attracts pigeons, I have to tidy my room before I can settle down to work pretty

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1154828013848868162006-08-06T01:20:00.000Z2006-08-06T10:18:03.730Z

Apex Corner isn't a corner. It's one of those big roundabouts on the edge of London, where lots of big roads meet - the kind of big roads that have been carved from residential areas, where double-fronted houses look down from man-made embankments at the relentless hum of traffic. It's the kind of place where pedestrians have to walk on one side of the road; everyone streamlined in the

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1154506011689866712006-08-02T07:32:00.000Z2006-08-02T08:06:52.176Z

If I'd been braver, I'd have taken a photo of this particular phenomenon, but some places should be free from the tyranny of camera phones - and I think the women's changing room at my gym is one of them. Anyway, yesterday I noticed a poster advertising "Wax to the Max! As much waxing as you like for ONE WHOLE YEAR!" from a sum that figured somewhere in the hundreds of pounds. Now, correct me if

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1153684154674860542006-07-23T19:48:00.000Z2006-07-23T19:49:14.690Z

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1153604058226486722006-07-22T21:33:00.000Z2006-07-22T21:34:18.236Z

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1152285862429240702006-07-07T15:23:00.000Z2006-07-07T15:24:22.443Z

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1148458804876841342006-05-24T08:16:00.000Z2006-05-24T08:20:04.900Z

Hmmm ... so you get black wheelie bins for rubbish, green for recycling, and brown for garden waste. There's a sort of logic emerging there, I guess, which leads to police in Tayside introducing red wheelie bins for people to put knives in, as part of a weapon amnesty.Seems oddly chilling.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1143216340394531422006-03-24T16:03:00.000Z2006-03-24T16:05:40.406Z

So that's obviously brilliant. Similarly brilliant is the headline on Tuesday's Yorkshire Post: "Yorkshire Ripper Hoaxer: I Had Nowt Else to Do".

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1128676635050008872005-10-07T09:00:00.000Z2005-10-07T09:17:15.056Z

Extraordinary feature on the Today programme this morning that included the bonkers Spectator agony aunt, Mary Killen . Apparently, eating in the street is a bad thing to do because it makes other people "feel sick and worry that you might get indigestion". I positively HEART the poshness of this, and the fact that she wasn't able to say, "I don't like seeing people stuff their faces as they walk

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1126700688856221522005-09-14T12:18:00.000Z2005-09-14T12:24:48.860Z

Sometimes, I really wonder about myself. Why, exactly, do I like listening to After Henry so much? There can be no sensible reason.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1124451997473706072005-08-19T11:09:00.000Z2005-08-19T11:46:37.516Z

So this is a great comfort to me, and underlines the fact (again!) that people just don't much like sending their photos in. After one week of what appears to be saturation public transport ads (sides of buses and at every tube station i've been to) casual passerby has 21 submissions, one of which is - predictably - someone just taking a photo of themselves (which means they must also be

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1124189644539867892005-08-16T10:04:00.000Z2005-08-16T10:54:04.570Z

So this is interesting, and relates to some things I've been thinking about. But first of all, i noticed with delight today that one of my most popular del.icio.us tags is ... yes, you guessed it, bovril! If I'm not careful, I'm going to get a reputation for being obsessed with 70s food products ...But anyway, I looked at the casual passerby website today because i saw a poster in the tunnel at

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1123838318167496082005-08-12T08:47:00.000Z2005-08-12T09:18:38.173Z

Ironically, the very interesting article about FLOSS and customer innovation by Lawrence Lessig in the latest LRB is only available to read online if you're a subscriber.Eric von Hippel's theories of "democratising innovation" are just the sort of thing that need a bigger take up in the museum sector. When I was at the Museums and the Web conference earlier this year, something I found

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1123766947622533762005-08-11T13:02:00.000Z2005-08-11T13:29:07.646Z

While cruising round my phone last night, I discovered that -- in the 9 months since I've had this particular phone -- I have been "on the phone" for 121 hours, 4 minutes, and 54 seconds, 65 hours of which have been outgoing calls. I have also sent and received 1133 text messages. So that's an average of about 13 hours and 125 text messages a month. I mean, I know some of this stuff from my

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1120552352872250942005-07-05T07:54:00.000Z2005-07-05T08:32:32.926Z

Okay, so what follows isn't intended as a damning indictment of, well, anything, but it's just a rumination upon something A Bit Odd.I work in a museum, and one of the notable things about working in a building that's open to the public is that the public spaces are a helluva lot nicer than the staff spaces - as, I suppose, you might expect. Today our new garden is being opened by the Prince of

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1118677709902247252005-06-13T15:43:00.000Z2005-06-13T15:48:29.906Z

If I got locked in my office in a freak accident and couldn't escape, I wonder how long I could live on the bits of breakfast/lunch/dinner that are secreted between the keys on my computer keyboard?Perhaps this is a potential research project? Unless, of course, the final research outcome is death. In which case, I'm not so sure.This evening, I am going to a beginner's tap dancing class. Watch me

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1116586015515337032005-05-20T10:45:00.000Z2005-05-20T10:46:55.520Z

Quite the nicest simile I've come across for ages. From "Hangover Square" by Patrick Hamilton:"It was as though she were a small amateur wireless station, and he alone was tuned in to her and listening. And the message she was tapping out was, of course, her loveliness."

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1115132358770859762005-05-03T14:38:00.000Z2005-05-03T14:59:18.770Z

oh empty, lonely weblog ... how you must have missed me ... no? i thought not. sigh. anyway, look, here I am, back back back with some reasonably dull and fatuous comments.we recently had a mouse in our kitchen. he only seemed to be around for one day, so I suspect that he really lived somewhere else and was just hanging out at ours briefly, enjoying the fantastic ambience and admiring our great

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1109927487162360402005-03-04T09:06:00.000Z2005-03-04T09:11:27.163Z

so i have absolutely no time at all to be writing in here today, but i must make a note of this now before i forget it; i must must be able to use it somewhere. on the 149, two very well turned-out city secretaries (all high heels and throaty essex twang); one much more glamorous than the other: glam: Angela's had a nose jobless glam: no?glam: i don't like it. she's very happy with it though less

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1109339161035191752005-02-25T13:46:00.000Z2005-02-25T13:46:01.036Z

How weird. They've changed it. I wonder what "breathing for himself" is in Italian? Perhaps it's serene? (unlikely, i know.)

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1109327248607885602005-02-25T10:27:00.000Z2005-02-25T10:27:28.606Z

I mean, this basically means he's going to die very soon, right? "Serenity", after all, is pretty close to heavenly tranquility. But I guess if you're God's representative on earth, you probably get some special treatment in the pre-death stages; where everyone else has to just live with being "stable", you get to be "serene" and "blissful". My.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1109266213184341772005-02-24T17:04:00.000Z2005-02-24T17:30:13.186Z

sitting in the sleepily warm OO, waiting for a phone call and *marvelling* at how little work I have to do, when the following suddenly occurs to me: why is the consistency of scabs so variable? the scab on my wrist, Attractiveness Fans, is very much a scab of two parts: thick and gristly looking at one end, and then sort of thin and flakey on the other. How has one half of the scab healed so

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1108633441252890922005-02-17T09:05:00.000Z2005-02-17T10:05:43.170Z

This is on my mind this morning, because I've just finished "The Pursuit of Love" -- a slight, and slightly undeveloped, novel, that is yet extremely charming and amusing and full of eminently quotable lines, but slightly unfulfilling as a whole. The beauty of the novel is in the characterisation, and where it falls down utterly is where the characters have to *do* things, and move the narrative

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1108130409609750812005-02-11T13:57:00.000Z2005-02-11T14:00:09.610Z

"It was here that Powell began to grasp what an exciting period this was for the arts. At Oxford he was handicapped by being neither rich nor homosexual, and despite attending some amusing parties was often sunk in gloom." Michael Barber, ‘Powell, Anthony Dymoke (1905-2000)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/73965,

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1107943551664688982005-02-09T10:03:00.000Z2005-02-09T10:05:51.666Z

I was just in our work canteen, where there's one of those big industrial toaster thingies, where you put your toast on the top, and it moves round a toasting conveyor belt, dropping out the other end all toasty and delicious. And I noticed, to my delight, that the aforesaid machine is called a "Roller Toaster". Sometimes, life seems just perfect.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1107515930274396322005-02-04T11:18:00.000Z2005-02-04T15:28:00.073Z

Nice little user-generated content thingy to get people to write their own Shaggy Dog Stories and send them in.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1106824125138852002005-01-27T11:08:00.000Z2005-01-27T11:08:45.136Z

BBC NEWS | Politics | Teddy bear prizes under spotlight

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1106820553175667152005-01-27T09:52:00.000Z2005-01-27T13:06:40.810Z

I got up really early this morning (5.50am) and got into work accordingly early (8.15), but then got all distracted by the fact that my PC seems to have been taken over by some trojan virus thingy that means i get "look at me naked" shortcuts appearing in my start menu, accompanied -- amazingly enough -- by pictures of a woman's bottom. Due to "restrictions in place on my computer" I am wholly

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1106817455024368312005-01-27T09:12:00.000Z2005-01-27T09:17:35.023Z

Two women sitting next to me, in their mid-twenties. "What's all this about Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston then?" "Oh, I know." "No, I mean, what's all this? Mark was telling me they've split up." "Oh yes." "What's that about?" "Well apparently he wanted children, didn't he, and she didn't. And he's having an affair now with that Angelica Jolie, isn't he?" "No." "Yes." "Well. Anyway,

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1106304136386642152005-01-21T10:41:00.000Z2005-01-24T12:16:53.510Z

On our work intranet today: "As part of an initiative with Visit Britain and other museums and galleries in London, there will be a giant jigsaw piece in the Grand Entrance from today until 28 Jan. It will then be taken away in order to join in with a giant jigsaw in Horse Guards parade on 30 Jan." Um, fair enough ...

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1105025024247316102005-01-06T15:23:00.000Z2005-01-06T15:23:44.246Z

- How does a Vicar Bird Dress?

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1104836145244196252005-01-04T10:37:00.000Z2005-01-18T10:39:25.606Z

So back in the office after a rather nice Christmas holiday, listening to Radio Stereolab and feeling just a little bit lonely. Own Office Misery has increased significantly, I think, since They cut down the trees in the garden; having to look at piles of rubble while sitting in my cupboard is not, on balance, that cheering. January being a time for taking on board home truths etc., this very

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1100792412404461172004-11-18T15:33:00.000Z2004-11-21T12:49:41.690Z

whoa, sunday afternoon in the office, rocking out to neil young. i am, like, sooo cool. anyway, the burning issue on my mind today is that Unilvever Bestfoods, the makers of Bovril, have decided to take the beef out of bovril, to make it "more appealing more to vegetarians and Muslims". In other words, they are turning it into Marmite, which is quite odd as they make that too. There is

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1100613517078420072004-11-16T13:58:00.000Z2004-11-16T13:58:37.080Z

BBC NEWS | England | Devon | Tory candidate on marbles mission

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1099907022554307422004-11-08T09:43:00.000Z2004-11-08T09:43:42.553Z

Intriguing interview with the editor of The Times, where he says the layout of the new Compact Times has learnt much from the "scrolling" way in which young people read. Also, apparently, they have fact boxes, which he cites as being among the most important bits of the layout as they enable people to take information in immediately. Can't say I've so much as sneezed in the way of a copy of The

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1099318071338669502004-11-01T14:07:00.000Z2004-11-01T14:07:51.336Z

Just about the loveliest thing ever. I just Googled "By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept", because I was going to make a not-particularly witty pun on its title, and imagine my joy when I discovered that someone rather lovely, in New Westminster, British Columbia, will be "leaving this book on one of the tables at the Starbucks at 6th & 6th, around 4 pm today. I hope whomever finds it

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1098204395680842222004-10-19T16:46:00.000Z2004-10-19T16:46:35.680Z

Innocent enquiry: what are doing tomorrow? Strange and bizarre answer: Going here. I saw Nigel Dempster this morning. He was wearing an anorak. I found that to be disappointintly unrakish.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1098112713691940832004-10-18T15:18:00.000Z2004-10-18T15:18:33.690Z

If I could write like Nancy Banks-Smith for one day, I would be a happy woman.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1098103134306300642004-10-18T13:27:00.000Z2004-10-18T12:40:30.516Z

just so say, with relation to oranges, this is definitely true. also, something i'm always fascinated by is that some people call all different orange variants by their correct names... "some people" is actually a lie, "one person i know" would be nearer the truth ... and when i used to live with that person our journeys round the supermarket were often accompanied by him mirthfully smirking at

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1098101845037404212004-10-18T12:17:00.000Z2004-10-18T12:17:25.036Z

Oh. Is it me or is it not just really depressing? Hmmm

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1098024871132347352004-10-17T14:49:00.000Z2004-10-17T14:54:31.133Z

for some reason, i've become obsessed with this word. but more than that, i keep trying to use it to mean the exact opposite of what it means ... erm, so i guess i keep trying to use it as an antonym of itself. i keep trying to use it to mean "list out" (sorry, awful grammar, i know, but i have absolutely no idea of how to convey that general idea correctly ... um *thinks* bah) when it means "to

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1098023947255736282004-10-17T14:28:00.000Z2004-10-17T14:39:07.256Z

oh funny stary-eye feeling from being starey-eyed at a computer for too long ... not even that long, really, but somehow too long for a sunday. have these awful doomladen feelings that am never going to get everything/anything finished ever or at all ... oh, moan, sigh, misery ... am also terribly hungry but can't seem to bear the thought of extending time spent here by going to get food so am,

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1097769853795656202004-10-14T16:04:00.000Z2004-10-14T16:04:13.796Z

just about the best thing ever

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1097743754100814732004-10-14T08:44:00.000Z2004-10-14T08:49:14.100Z

Who'd have thought that two such different things could share the same Way of Reading: "it is Joyce's outstanding mastery of that form and his amazing powers of transcription that show this to be an unrepeatable, solo performance that need, in a sense, only be looked at rather than 'read' to provide a sufficient impression of its radical, unique status." (from Seamus Dean's introduction to

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1097571480575954282004-10-12T08:44:00.000Z2004-10-12T08:58:00.576Z

unfortunately the sun online hasn't updated it's letters page yet today. this is mostly a shame becaue there was the strangest ever letter in there today, written by a woman, about abi titmus being ace for getting out there and selling her sleazy calendar. apparently, sleaze has done great things for abi and jodi marsh and jordan and everyone should stop being so down on it. personally i find abi

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1097225247995768242004-10-08T08:40:00.000Z2004-10-08T08:47:27.996Z

on my way to work this morning i saw two of the most brilliant things ever... the first was an evening standard hoarding (which i now see must be about two days old, have no idea why i didn't see it before) that said "Ronnie Barker's Son on the Run", and the other was a very sweet little Japanese girl with a Snoopy bag that actually, wierdly, said "Spoony" rather than "Snoopy". i obviously now

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1097160614717243252004-10-07T14:50:00.000Z2004-10-07T14:50:14.716Z

Start your own bliss blog powered by thezpace this will be neither interesting or shocking to anyone else, but it's quite frankly amazing to me. because (a) it seems to be a pay service -- how can that be so when so many blog services are free and, duh, teenagers don't have credit cards and (b) well, liability, liability, liability. Jesus. I can see the headlines now. I spent about three years

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1097159308260700312004-10-07T14:12:00.000Z2004-10-07T14:28:28.260Z

so, work is quite funny, isn't it? i mean, some of the things you do For Work are not really related to work at all -- as in, what you're actually paid for -- but are more related to the, uh, politics of the thing. um, yes, not making much sense. i'm very tired. but for instance, i did something today that was supposedly Social, but it was much more hardwork than most things i ever have to

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1096966843150801792004-10-05T08:39:00.000Z2004-10-05T09:00:43.150Z

today is one of my most boring kind of work days, so i'm allowing myself the luxury of a little 5 minute indulgence on here. anyway, there are two things on my mind and i may as well vent at least one of them now ... last night i seemed to maybe leave work a bit earlier than usual, and so there were lots of other people travelling at the same time as me (for some reason i tend to always leave

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1096561905978919912004-09-30T16:31:00.000Z2004-09-30T16:36:27.876Z

The Vancouver Tourism website offers content for three kinds of people: Family and Kids, Gay-friendly, and Special Needs. I guess it could be worse: it could say something like Gays and Spastics. But also, what if you're single, childless, fully mobile, or "Gay Non-Friendly"? Do they not let you in? Do they check for homophobia while waggling your legs? Mind boggles.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1096535149191186622004-09-30T09:05:00.000Z2004-09-30T09:05:49.190Z

Boris Johnson - Conservative MP oh this is fantastically brilliant. It's like something from a Nancy Mitford novel. My favourite bit is Boris's secretary, the improbably named Melissa Crawshay-Williams, extemporising on the "what she thinks the Tories have to do now to capture the political initiative", and I quote: "Tories - you are the sun to me. Let's crystalise ideas that will bring out

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1096532913320014742004-09-30T08:14:00.000Z2004-09-30T08:28:33.320Z

"Here the conversation turned to women. Pellerin refused to admit that there were any beautiful women (he preferred tigers)" Flaubert, Sentimental Education I kind of know what he means. I mean, not about there not being any beautiful women, but about preferring tigers. My friend (who is currently enjoying a certain amount of infamy through being a mutual friend of ours' oft-referred to "

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1096474237683095862004-09-29T16:10:00.000Z2004-09-29T16:10:37.683Z

Introduction to Bliss Classification I might be stupid, but I've never understood this. Okay, so it works as a system but WHY and HOW does "p" mean religion? It's so oddly counter-intuitive that it makes looking for books in Bliss Libraries really really hard. Plus the super-long strings mean that the smallest piece of mis-shelving obscures books completely. Why do some libraries use a mixture

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1096361115819312952004-09-28T08:43:00.000Z2004-09-28T08:45:15.820Z

ohmygod I *so* want to look like this when i'm older. (looks at self and wonders, "perhaps i look like it already?")

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1095951838871081812004-09-23T13:59:00.000Z2004-09-23T15:03:58.870Z

i've not posted here for ages, on account of (a) being very busy and (b) being on a seemingly endless tour of lowlights of UK geography. however, i'm posting now because i'm feeling distinctly lacking in inspiration and more than a little overwhelmed by how much i have to do. one of the strange things about not working in an interactive media company, but in a museum, is that i'm beginning to

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1093598864141424932004-08-27T09:20:00.000Z2004-08-27T09:27:44.140Z

this is so cool! tracklisting here. i was a bit distracted when i was listening to it yesterday, but i think that "horses" by mayo thompson might be totally amazing -- in some completely loony way, natch. this is a bit like radio colette, i suppose, but much better as it doesn't have that, er, annoying french talking thing. plus the radio colette thing seems, this time, to be all stuff like franz

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1092917604936535692004-08-19T11:33:00.000Z2004-08-19T12:13:24.936Z

Hmmm, so I was a little grumpy yesterday. Feelin much less grumpy today, but (as I just revealed myself through a moment of parapraxis (fans!)) I am looking a little bit frumpy. I've got some bad polo shirt/glasses thing going on. Also, I was thinking this morning, do I have an abnormally hairy nose?!! Erm, perhaps I should have actually kept that to myself, but I managed to persuade myself that

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1092831904900618482004-08-18T11:53:00.000Z2004-08-18T12:25:04.900Z

(By which I mean: my professional life. Not just the odd ten minutes spent surfing.) I've realised that the more time I spend on my own, the more I become interested in "things" rather than "people", and so the more I'm reverting to my teenage self, when I was a person driven almost entirely by semi-obsessive interests, rather than the person I've been for most of my adult life -- socially

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1092728736943032572004-08-17T07:29:00.000Z2004-08-17T07:45:36.943Z

Tuesday morning and it seems to be less than 12 hours since I was last here. So much for my new work/life balance thingy. Oh well. Anyway, I was quite late going to sleep last night, and I was lying in bed, listening to Belle and Sebastian (it's getting out of hand; it's like I'm having an "Indie Backlash" -- my 7 years in the soul wilderness seems to have come crashing down in a wave of plinky

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1092668465353188942004-08-16T14:46:00.000Z2004-08-16T15:03:20.063Z

This is going to be a special speed post. I'm giving myself exactly five minutes. I shouldn't really be posting at all, because I'm so goddam busy, but my brain has just gone all funny and my eyes have gone all big from screen staring and I find that I'm finding it difficult to really give a damn about the data protection act. Jeez. How did it all come to this? Writing up huge documents about

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1092395880601590382004-08-13T10:42:00.000Z2004-08-13T11:50:55.440Z

Yesterday, under the auspices of work, someone sent me an email about a project called The Romance of Libraries. Naively I thought it might have something to do with library architecture or romance languages in the context of libraries or, erm, something else equally unlikely but connected to my job. But, no -- it's about people who've fallen in love in libraries. It doesn't actually say they

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090931155509075002004-07-27T12:06:00.000Z2004-07-27T12:28:46.073Z

Oh, so it was quite good. The support acts were a bit odd, however. (As, actually, was the main performance, but more of that in a moment.) There was some tremendously awful theremin Performance Art to start with, during which me and robin had a chat to some slightly odd man who does on-stage contortion to electonic music, and hatched a plan for me to wear a viking helmet and woo Mr Boom. The

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090857538498610052004-07-26T15:45:00.000Z2004-07-26T15:58:58.496Z

I'm going to see Sonic Boom tonight. Not, unfortunately, on our Evie Sands-discussing date, but In Concert. However, my friend pointed out that some of the bands on the complete line up "make solo Sonic Boom sound like the Cheeky Girls", so I think we're just going to go the headliney bit at the end. Unfortunately, my history of turning up casually late for gigs means that I've -- for instance --

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-109084778889506852004-07-26T12:57:00.000Z2004-07-26T13:32:43.936Z

by my own admission, i'm on the slightly sturdy side of slim, but i'm not particularly fat and, in particular, i don't have a massively distended abdomen. so imagine my surprise this morning when a very small and delicate woman on the tube *offered me her seat*! she must, clearly, have thought i was pregnant! next week i shall be wearing my bikini with much confidence. thank you small lady.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090508416631062202004-07-22T14:51:00.000Z2004-07-22T15:00:16.633Z

god i'm exhausted. have been entertaining all day in my very best alison steadman-stylee. post-passport retrieval, I was "hosting a lunch" in this very strange trompe l'oeil room, wearing my best 70s smock and holding a glass of sparkling elderflower cordial aloft while exhorting people to "mingle". when i was in my local pub recently, the landlord (bizarrely) said that I could go and run one

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090482243388840012004-07-22T07:34:00.000Z2004-07-22T07:44:03.386Z

getting into work early is the best time to post nonsense here, because it is (like posting on a saturday) the biggest waste of time imaginable. the idea that i might have got up at 6am this morning, just so i could come into work and post something entirely trivial on my blog gives me a sense of deep and foolish satisfaction. i can look back at this post in time to come and think, "what a

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090428282837405202004-07-21T16:32:00.000Z2004-07-21T16:44:42.836Z

wouldn't it be good if you could see what other peoples' Amazon recommendations were? it would be such a strange way of meeting people, as it would be based entirely upon what a computer programme thinks they they might want to buy, rather than any real information about them. this, i think, would be a great form of matchmaking: there's a sufficiently wild-card element to actually mean there

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090421932617324092004-07-21T14:57:00.000Z2004-07-21T15:11:32.006Z

A whole database of people who may be willing to have guilty unprotected sex. also, seinfeld IS coming out on video. i have spies. *how* exciting!

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090412008748914832004-07-21T12:12:00.000Z2004-07-21T12:13:28.750Z

for some reason i'd forgotten about that. but i was just thinking, "these hayfever tablets are making me sleepy". why isn't seinfeld on video? *sigh*

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090334314657056402004-07-20T14:27:00.000Z2004-07-20T14:38:34.656Z

I had some ginger beer at lunchtime, and boy am I living to regret it. Not only have my teeth been hurting ever since, but I've had that weird sort of sugar agitation that makes me unable to speak properly. Also, why is it that whenever you go to a festival all the bands you wanna see are always on at the same time? Note, however, that there's nothing of any interest going on during the Pet

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090237519732505442004-07-19T11:38:00.000Z2004-07-19T11:45:19.733Z

Sometimes working here is quite odd. A most imperious man from the BBC just came into my office and said that they were going to be recording a lunchtime concert in the room behind me every day during the Proms. Naively, i thought he was apologising for any disturbance this would cause me; he was, of course, making sure I didn't disrupt the live Radio 3 broadcast with my crazy Joey shenanigans.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1090066959373535402004-07-17T11:46:00.000Z2004-07-17T12:22:39.373Z

i've come into work today to do some work. not sit around adding pointless rubbish to my blog. but look! what am i doing? yes, adding some pointless rubbish to my blog.   i'm also listening to the sonic boom compilation album ... in fact, more specifically, i'm listening to Sun Arise by Rolf Harris. Which is kinda weird. I'm not totally sure that I'm really really enjoying the Rolf Harris track,

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1089301435562193642004-07-08T15:41:00.000Z2004-07-08T15:43:55.563Z

but i've deleted all my comments. so i look really sad. *sob* however, i've managed to do the grimmest hack into the code to get my sidebar features how i want them, which made me a little more sad, to be honest, because I was appalled by how long it took me to effect said grim hack. now i have my own office, i'm obviously just too jiggy to do proper coding. or something.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1089277448555039472004-07-08T09:01:00.000Z2004-07-08T09:12:24.166Z

irritatingly, the times online only produces these odd printer-friendly urls, making it a bit annoying to link to articles. however, here's the text of something from today. Even more irritatingly, the most recent online issue of Progress in Retinal Eye Research was January, so can't find out more about it. (there's a sentence I never thought i'd write.) TV blamed for increased childhood myopia

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1089276462196134352004-07-08T08:20:00.000Z2004-07-08T08:52:09.626Z

London is really emptying out: the escalator at Highbury this morning was almost deserted. But I do feel a certain ambivalence about London at high summer: if I really wanted emptiness then I'd live somwhere else, somewhere nicer, where it wasn't a feature, just what it was like ... The tube, however, was packed to the gills, and I had the oddly pleasant experience of standing next to someone

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1089218557305178572004-07-07T16:15:00.000Z2004-07-07T16:42:37.306Z

I realised that the smell of wee hasn't been alluded to for a while. That's because it's completely disappeared. No More Wee Smell. Which makes me think that someone really had weed in the corridor. Eugh. I was offered a desk in some kind soul's room today, giving me the chance to flee the OO for good. After some giddy excitement, I got a bit scared and said I'd think about it. Which was oddly

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1089131918294599302004-07-06T16:35:00.000Z2004-07-06T16:38:38.306Z

I had a meeting in the garden this morning and now have completely Council sunburn on my back. Annoyingly, I was obviously sitting with my shoulder blades angled together, so there's an odd white line down the middle of my back -- which makes it look like I might have been wearing some terrible thin-wrestler-backed top. It's very difficult, but I need to be a bit more on the case with the sun

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1089100445341107202004-07-06T07:44:00.000Z2004-07-06T07:54:05.346Z

I'm reading something that looks like a new book at the moment, but was actually written in 1985. There's something about reading things that have just been written that i can find a little difficult -- harsh, somehow -- because there's no space for reflection, almost. It's all current and immediate ... or not, i mean, often it's not current enough, often it's just that little bit too out of step

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1089046484764894502004-07-05T16:28:00.000Z2004-07-05T16:54:44.763Z

I rang the bank today to ask for a new cheque book and was bizarrely put through to someone who tried to lend me £20,000 and all but invited me to his house the next time I was in Glasgow. (As a result of our conversation, he's going to come to London and visit the V&A. Not, I think, to see me, but to show his daughter a bit more about the decorative arts. He was also telling me something about

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088777401598157792004-07-02T13:55:00.000Z2004-07-02T14:10:01.596Z

I'm aware that three posts in one day is excessive (two within minutes of each other), but this is a moment I need to mark. I have eaten my Last Ever Granola bar. As someone with a casual obsession with their weight, I have a strange yearning to eat food that looks healthy but is actually really bad for you. It's an extremely restricted form of hedonism, because I feel quite virtuous while I'm

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088776355494384852004-07-02T13:42:00.000Z2004-07-02T13:52:35.493Z

This is actually related to work. Good Lord. Anyway, I've just drawn up a list of headings under that I'm hoping will form the superstructure under which Everything In The World can be described. I was thinking this was, perhaps, a little hubristic, seeing as Ebay have 26 (one of which is "everything else"), but then I remembered the inspiring example of Trivial Pursuit, which makes do with 6.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088770966131597252004-07-02T12:04:00.000Z2004-07-02T12:22:46.130Z

Oh I have a new toy. It's the Catholic Online Saint of the Day site. My favourite saint for today is St Otto of Bamberg, who seems to have hung out with people with the most delightfully made-up sounding names (such as Boleslav; clearly my medieval Polish history could do with some brushing up as the fact that Pomerania was a real place and not just, erm, where those ugly dogs come from was news

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088591630620525072004-06-30T10:22:00.000Z2004-06-30T10:33:50.620Z

It took me nearly three hours to get into work today. This was not all the fault of public transport. Quite a lot of it was the fault of my really poor sense of direction. It all went fairly swimmingly: walked to Islington (through my favouritely road-named bit of London. I think I might have some clerical obsession. What I really like is how whoever townplanned that bit of Islington got onto a

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088508691051749952004-06-29T11:18:00.001Z2004-06-29T11:38:24.630Z

Just going back to that NAO document for a moment, I notice that it's written by someone called a Comptroller. Looking Comptroller up in the Dictionary (of course, what else do I do all day) I see that its definition is actually Controller. Which means that this particular Civil Servant has just employed the fancy schmancy trick of adding letters to his job title to make him look more important.

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088495873299590832004-06-29T07:40:00.001Z2004-06-29T11:41:34.800Z

...do I ever get in to work early? I got here at 8am today, and it's just a license to do some More Mucking About because I'm totally lacking in the sense of urgency required for me to actually do some work. I'm listening to the Candi Staton Fame recordings, which you can listen to a miniscule bit of here. Now there's a lady who kicks ass. At the moment I'm having a bit of a Looking Like A

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088423843262884282004-06-28T00:39:00.000Z2004-06-28T12:05:29.973Z

Listening to Round the Horne while eating my tuna sandwich and contemplating an orange. I find RTH to be fascinating -- mainly just because it's so rude. And because it has those extraordinary songs in it. Oh I wish I'd been alive in the 60s. Now everyone with a desk-based job and a long walk to the nearest sink will probably share my trepidation regarding Eating Oranges At Your Desk. It's

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1088006825495054552004-06-23T16:01:00.000Z2004-06-23T16:08:37.286Z

clearly i've now become obsessed with this, but anyway, something just came flashing into my head and i thought i'd make a note of it here, before i forgot. obviously, then, a verger in a church (like that man from Dad's Army) is the man who looks after the verge. now it all becomes clear. however, it's not very clear from the unnested Concise Oxford, because verger appears about four words

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1087999920959681602004-06-23T13:59:00.000Z2004-06-23T15:30:16.926Z

because I've just got a big bit of work out of the way, so am pausing for five mins before tidying my little OO and actually moving on and doing something a bit more interesting. however, i am afflicted somewhat by belly ache today, which is making me feel a little bit glum. not really sure what i think might be wrong with me, but feel like something is. harumph. really, to save myself endlessly

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1087995600540085672004-06-23T12:44:00.000Z2004-06-23T13:00:00.540Z

Just irritatingly lost an hour's work because my position of excessive reclining caused me to turn the mains off with my foot. The resulting misery and post-lunch malaise (what a heady cocktail) are making it somewhat difficult to concentrate ... Anyway, there has been exciting activity today. Namely, some completely ineffectual stalking, which was meant to make the recipient aware of how

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1087918810050580182004-06-22T16:11:00.000Z2004-06-22T15:55:08.140Z

Feeling oddly bouyant today and have just been excellently kick ass. There's a strange inverse correlation between how stupid and unconvincing my outfit is and how confident I am. Today, for instance, the considerable disadvantage of wearing matching/non-matching red spotty skirt and green spotty ribbon allowed me to lean back in my chair like a total twat and say "Well, I think you should see

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1087824831145357052004-06-21T13:20:00.000Z2004-06-21T13:33:51.146Z

Although I realise it's entirely fickle not to post for several months and to then, berserkedly, post twice in one day, that is what I'm doing. This perhaps attests to my unsuitability for relationships (although I don't think I've ever been in a relationship where I've not spoken to the person for over two months. That would be quite odd. Unless it was one of those relationships you didn't know

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1087820393027621302004-06-21T12:00:00.000Z2004-06-21T12:28:40.963Z

The problem with having to give each entry a title is that I tend to write the title first, which then reveals everything I'm then going to write about. Were I doing this for work, I'd write the title last, and spend a little while thinking about it. I'd also probably make some effort to make it interesting. I think the fact that neither is the case should give me some pause. However, I suppose

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1082632934988993462004-04-22T11:11:00.000Z2004-04-22T11:26:22.153Z

Which is a slightly erroneous title because I'm not about to write anything exciting, but am merely going to say that i'd like something exciting to happen. I mean, the reason my blog is so boring is because work is so boring. oh my god. what can i do that will be fun? erm. had a little semi-skive earlier and went to the Science Museum to see the Pain exhibition. It's strangely incoherent and

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1082049322421412272004-04-15T16:47:00.000Z2004-04-15T17:28:46.326Z

Wow, the last couple of days might have been the Joeyest yet. My trusty Next-Door Office Joey has been on holiday, and so I've just had these huge ... long ... swathes ... of OOJ time. I mean, it's been crazy. But not, you know, in an exciting way or anything, just in that slightly mental screen starey I Am Crazy sorta way. Other crazy stuff that's been happening is that I know two people who've

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1080982943665906202004-04-03T08:58:00.000Z2004-04-03T09:07:59.920Z

Just (in a further bid not to do anything) checking Alastair Campbell's web site (god, i am SO SAD) I am very disappointed to see that not only is he friends with Mick Hucknall and an acolyte of Rupert Murdoch (who is more evil? I wish I knew. Probably Murdoch but Mick Hucknall's hair is so bad) but he also looks really silly on a bike AND he was wearing a white shirt on Parkinson. White shirts

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6351884.post-1080982110096852032004-04-03T08:36:00.000Z2004-04-03T08:56:50.763Z

Sooooooooooooooo Saturday morning and I got up at 6.30 in order to come into work, and -- given what I've been up to for the last half an hour -- I seem to have specially come in to email some people and adjust my new chair. (New chair is actually a sizeably exciting development in the OO environment. It's a rather-pleasing shade of red, which matches my socks today, and has many levers and other

rachelcnoreply@blogger.com0