I just created my first animated gif…
I apologise if that makes you dizzy (it certainly tires me out just to watch her).
Did I tell you how much I love this camera?
Do some good
My friend Roger is walking (which is good in itself) a sponsored walk for the American Diabetes Association (which is even better), and either all his other friends are as forgetful as I am (I needed the reminder, Roger), or they’re miserable so-and-sos or possibly just piss-poor. What do I know. Anyway, if you feel you haven’t quite fulfilled that “give a tenth of what you earn” thing recently, why don’t you do some good and sponsor him, too?
And while you’re at the good deed doing, sign up to sponsor a child through SOS. I just did, and boy, is he adorable (yes, it’s a he, and that’s just about all I can tell you, as, for obvious reasons, we’re not supposed to plaster the personal details of the children all over the internet).
Then go toast yourself for being an excellent person.
Krøss i taket
Nå står ikke verden til påske, eller pinse, for den saks skyld, Djupedal har faktisk – i følge Adressa – kommet med en fornuftig uttalelse.
Hvis mor og far ikke gir dere lov til å lese om kvelden på senga, så gjør som meg. Jeg leste Hjortefot med lommelykt under dyna
Et svært så godt råd fra en mann som ellers later til å ønske seg verdensrekorden i “foot in mouth”. Ikke for det, han erter vel på seg en del foreldre på denne måten…
Jeg leste forresten sjelden under dyna, det ble så varmt… Men jeg hadde rom slik at jeg hørte at mamma og pappa nærmet seg før de så lyset, så jeg bare slukket det og lot som jeg sov til de var forsvunnet igjen. Så vidt jeg kan huske leste jeg til langt på natt mer eller mindre hver kveld fra tidlig på barneskolen til langt ut i universitetsstudiet. Søvn fikk jeg da alltids. Det er verre nå som jeg er forventet å møte på jobb hver morgen…
Oh no!
Another fire in Trondheim, another of the old wooden houses reduced to ashes, and my favourite shop just now (fotovideo) gone. I hope to God they had insurance. I hope they manage to find another site to open a new shop pretty soon.
I’m sure I don’t deserve him
I must learn to remember that the husband is much better at keeping secrets than I am. Also, possibly, practice this patience thingamagig that I hear people talking about.
Long story short: I got my birthday present two days early.
So I went for a short walk and took some pictures. It works! I think it seems to overexpose the pictures somewhat if left to its own devices, but I guess I’ll just have to learn to not leave it to its own devices. Or just test further, I might be imagining things.
Oh no
I’ve missed this, but apparently Waterstone’s want to take over Ottakars. The deal was halted because of investigation by The Competition Commission, but now the commission has come to the conclusion that the deal’s ok. It’s not going to be a problem, apparently, because bookseller’s are meeting such tough competition from supermarkets anyway. Ms. Bookish links to an article in The Guardian which has me fuming, especially at the last sentence, proclaimed by Diana Guy who led the commission’s inquiry: “We felt that the big publishers can probably look after themselves.” Yes, well, I’m not sure anyone is worried about the fate of the big publishers. What everyone, including the big publishers, but excepting the commission, is worried about is the possibility of publishing titles with a small or unknown market if the only avenue for sales is the bookshelf at the supermarket. Don’t get me wrong, I love browsing in Waterstone’s and Ottakar’s is, after all, just another chain, but so far there’s been a point of going to both, because they’ve had different titles on their shelves, after a merger they’re all going to look the same.
Even puddles can be poetic
A random title – the phrase just happened to appeal to me when it drifted into my head this afternoon.
|
Your Life Path Number is 8 |
 Your purpose in life is to help others succeed You are both a natural leader and a natural success. You are also a great judge of character. In love, you are very generous – with gifts, time, and guidance. You love to inspire people, but it can be frustrating when they don’t understand your vision. |
Ok, I follow you on that arrogance-thing, but “a head for business and finance”? *Goes off cackling with laughter*
Football
I know, you’re probably thinking “Huh?”
Well, despite not really being into sports (a good candidate for understatement of the year if ever I saw one), I end up watching sports accidentally ever so often (or, if I can help it, seldom, but never mind). One such occasion occured last Saturday – we popped in to Three Lions for luch (and a pint) before the show (Ice Age 2, as reported), and realised pretty quickly that we’d either have to watch football og go somewhere else. We opted for the football (I mean, where else is there?). It was, uhm, bear with me, I’ll remember in a mo… I think it was Everton vs. Liverpool. I also think I opted to root for Everton (sorry, Pondus), though that left me in a minority in the audience (actually, I suppose you could say I opted to root for Everton because it left me in a minority). It didn’t really make much difference, as we were going to have to leave at half time to make the cinema on time. We didn’t miss the half time entertainment, though, Will got his head shaved as a result of loosing a bet he’d made that Chelsea wouldn’t win anything at all this season (or something of that order, you can’t expect me to come up with correct team names and events every time, you know). That was fun.
Anyway, on with the musing and the original purpose of this post: With football there is this big hoo-ha about the offside rule and how it’s supposed to be so difficult to understand, especially if you’re a woman. Now, don’t get me wrong, when I do, on occasion, watch football, I can’t necessarily tell whether a player is “offside”, in that I sometimes get quite surprised when the whistle is blown or whatever. This comes – I suspect – of there being a lot of players on the field and me only being half-way interested (and more interested in whether Team A’s right forward is better looking than Team B’s back and whether that means I really should be rooting for Team A). But the rule in itself and the reason the rule exists seems straightforeward enough. For the purpose of discussion I found an explanation here – now, tell me, what’s so terribly complicated? I suppose the phrase “in the opinion of the referee” makes it somewhat more iffy than a simple “unless you’re the goalkeeper you should keep your hands off the ball”, but still. What am I missing?
So much for the ramble, now for a little rant…
I need a new bag. My favourite all-round bag has a zipper that no longer works every time, which is a pain. (In fact, I’m never buying a Bj
Jadda
Kosmorama being well (they even made a profit this year, apparently) and truly over I suppose I ought to report back on the rest of the festival for my part. Well, not much to report, I’m afraid. I took Tuesday off as planned, Wednesday I got a text message to say the The Puffy Chair, which I really wanted to see, was postponed until 4 PM, which meant that I could actually make it, though having been in a sloooooow computer course all day with a vague headache I really didn’t feel up to it. However, I was bracing myself when I got another text message to say it had been cancelled. So I went home to feel sorry for myself instead.
Thursday I was back on duty at 4:30 PM, and managed to get assigned to the theatre showing Mad Hot Ballroom which is a sort of feel-good documentary. Hardly great cinematic art, but everyone seemed to leave the theatre with a smile on their face, which is an achievement in itself.
At that point I decided that since we were overstaffed and I wouldn’t be leaving anyone in the lurch by bailing out, I had better get out of there. I’d had a sort of wannabe headache coupled with a wannabe nausea since late afternoon, and curling up at home with a cup of tea and a book seemed like a better plan than staying for a movie I only half wanted to see.
And whaddaya know, Cavite won its category (Schizoid). Ah, well. The jury must have known something I didn’t.