Flaming Zinc

Been too busy and my little head is all a whirl, last week I sat my first two English exam and then headed off to Edinburgh for a few days respite.

Needless to say I had an awesome time.

Whizzed around a few galleries and had a general mooch about. For so many years this wonderful city has been a glorified transportation node (quite literally as I was born here to) either jumping off a train at Waverly and then catching a bus or a pit stop on a road trip around the relatives. There has been quite a bit of redevelopment esp around my arch nemesis the bus station. I daren’t even add up the number of hours from a bairn upwards that I spent waiting to catch the 62 to Peebles. I digress, Edinburgh is going posh (even posher than the all fur coat and no knicker brigade) and it is building up collection of designers to rival SoHo. It has a glass church at its centre so the good folk can worship at the house of Harvey Nicks. But, far more exciting than the house of couture is the redesigned bus station. It is a stunner and no more freezing to death as the wind whips you

First, I dodged two greenpeace, then a lone mind and finally there was a blur of cancer somethings as I ran screaming “Non UK Resident” through central London. I guess this means the universities have broken up for the summer and the charities are recruiting!

Today I had to double back when I thought I passed a road side art installation. On closer inspection it turned out to be just a burnt out newspaper stand, that was helpfully corden off and had a bright orange police cone on what was left of the counter. Now what do you think was their motivation?

Dear BBC Radio4

Was it a jape or just a bit of a tease to have this afternoons play explore the topic of student stress and suicide….. At other times of the year I whole heartly support tie in dramas but perhaps keep them to winter equinox and Michaelmas.

Regards,

Most confused of NJ

As I was revising for my Language Production exam (creative writing or lying to me and you) I realised that this exam turns you into your own grave digger… Confused…. You are given a piece of prose which is to act as stimulus for your own work and then you have to write a commentary on the what you have written – aarrgghhh.

So far I have sat one exam, two next week and the final three in the second week of June. The first went okay, but I am now panicking that they won’t have been able to read my writing….will take even more care in the next exam. The most I hope to get from this spell of examinations is to pass them. A rather low expectation considering how well I did in the essay I submitted *rosy glow from boasting* but a combination of nerves, dyslexia and poor pen menship throw me in the exam room. I reckon that practice is going to get me over it and so by the time I come to sit my next bunch in January (Economics and Sociology) I will be a bit more of a pro

NB. I must add that I am not fishing here but trying to subtly let Alex know that this is my warm-up round

My brother used to be a fair weather cyclist, on a sunny day he might dust off his bike and meet his mates for a drink. Back then his bike was just a tool for getting from A to B and it didn’t seem to bother him when it was left rotting in the back garden.

All that changed when he started going out with his cycle enthusiast girlfriend.

He got a new, ultra light model with suspension. The house is littered with mountain bike life style magazines, greasy cogs and chains and piles of neon Lycra or polyester clothing. Now, I am glad he has a hobby other than festering away in his bedroom playing computer games but what bugs me is that his bike is now a permanent fixture in the hallway.

Yes, he does cycle to and fro the station on weekdays and goes off on jaunts at the weekend but the hall way is only 92cm wide and his handle bars occupy 62cm. If I am fed up of limbo dancing around it after only a week – how does my poor mum feel about it?

Today he took delivery of a new frame, apparently a bargain that he could not turn down….but where is it going to live? I am half tempted to buy a couple of D locks and some tarp (as I am not all heartless) and attach it to the railings out side…..

Lecture at the British Museum today on the history of Troy, didn’t think all my sneezing would be well received so tried a new combination….lemsip max in conjunction with Clairton (as I suspected every third sneeze was pollen related).

Glad to report that I made through the visit without causing to much of a disturbance or getting hot and bothered by the red figure vases

So, I am back in my ancestral home – which has been in the family since the turn of the century (alright the last one). My mother’s decoration style is more Tate Modern than Laura Ashley, which means it has a twist of art installation about it. This part of greater London is as rural as I can manage without breaking out in hives…it’s a shocking thirty minute bus ride to the nearest Starbucks and I have yet to find a yoga studio – apparently they are only for people North of the river…..he he he. But this ‘isolation’ is good as I get far more revision done.

Can you tell I am feeling better? The news that Enterprise got renewed has brightened my mood too!

I am sick.

It feels like everytime I come back to London, I pick up one illness or another…..December 2003 I got a super charged gastro bug (my birthday and Christmas were fun!), last summer I seriously underestimated the recovery time from having four wisdom teeth removed in hospital (I was the bride of Frankenstien) and now this uber cold.

Just ignore my moaning, the lemsip is wearing off – if it ever had any effect.

I am sure I’ll feel better in the morning and at least I have my ma furnishing me with hot drinks and tlc

05:00 Beep, beep, snooze.
05:06 Beep, beep, snooze.
05:12 Bleary eyed drag arse out of bed to revise.
05:17 Realise internet connection is set up on a timer so I really have to revise.
06:00 Set up copius amount of things to be recorded on TIVO that I wont have time to watch on my return and Alex will end up deleting.
07.34 Try to clean mildew off the shower curtain whilst in shower (multi tasking – eh!).
08.14 Head off towards civilisation in search of caffine and muffin fix.
08:45 Workie, workie
16:05 Finish last shift for a whole month – yeah!
16:30 Arrive home after dashing around supermarket to buy goodies for cousin.
16:35 Panic.
16:37 Have a cup of tea..not avoiding packing but aclimatising back to British customs.
17:45 Too much procrasting, decide to do something productive = head out for manicure/pedicure.
18:23 Back home feeling very much like a potenial NyLon girl.
18:36 Leave apartment.
18:37 Return to check closed windows.
18:38 Return to put on jewellery (an hour without earrings let alone a month is unthinkable).
18:42 Half way to cab rank realise forgot goodies for cousin….in two minds about gioing back but realise no space in luggage therefore the gods have decided for me
18:50 Leave dry cleaners disgruntled as they have not cleaned my sweater in time and I will now be cold on the flight….bugger!
19:01 Get cab.
19:19 No traffic.
19:20 At airport.
19:24 Feeling smug as I flashed my silver Virgin card and check in at preimum economy – no queue.
19:40 Having breezed through booking in and security checks realise that I am not bording till….what’s a girl to do?
20:25 Why do people always rush to form the bording queue? The seating is assigned….
21:02 Glee at discovering spare seat between me and my fellow passenger…space the greatest gift to us economy plebs.
21:15 Set clock to GMT and settle down to sleep (I have my seat belt over my blanket).
02:20 Woken up by v over made up flight attendant….my blanket is a potential hazard in case of emergency…what does she know? I ask why do they put them on the seats?
02:31 Take off.
02:55 Refuse drink, this confuses said flight attendant and request blanket – I am serious about getting some shut eye…am offered peanuts…
02.57 Am cold!
04:06 Woken up by loud discussion of two flight attendants about whether or not I am asleep….
06:05 Weight up risk off DVT over general leregy.
06:07 Realise guy infront is abusing the replay facility with a naughty scene in Along Came Polly.
06:08 I close my eyes and start to count sheep.
07:20 Discover breakfast offering has been left.
07:23 V excitedly bite into chocolate crossant shaped pastry.
07:24 Cheap, penny pinching bastards – empty.
07:25 Realise that the cavety has a patchy, glossy covering…I think this was a cheese crossant…note to self: must win lottery.
08:55 Land early.
09:29 Still sitting on tarmac queuing – reassure fellow passanger that this is part of the interactive British experience.
09:31 Start feeling homesick for the garden state.

The crew of the Enterprise NX-01 have always been rougher around the edges than their successors, but T’Pol’s experimentation with sex & drugs (superbly portrayed by Jolene Blalock – will she get a nod from Emmys or Globes?), Archer stealing technology and their current fragile state as they limp towards the show down with the Xindi. I loved the way they had to physically haul the doors open/closed and now they resemble Red Dwarf.

But, I hate it when Star Trek dabble in the temporal paradox episodes – they are generally disappointing (remember Kes leaping about in time on Voyager, none of those hook ups came to fruition) and I just know I will end up hollering at the telly. As far as I am concerned if they fail to make to the same mistake then their future selves will cease to exist, full stop.

Scott Bakula should know better, he was in Quantum Leap after all.