Ticking along...

OK, so we weren't completely screwed today.

My unwell designer was off again, but saw her doctor and now needs blood tests. These are being postponed so she can come into work tomorrow.

The designer who was admitted to hospital was still there today, pending test results... I honestly don't expect to see her this week.

My designer with the recently-broken arm has been told she may never recover full flexibility in her left arm, but since she's young, she has a fair chance.

My boss came in shortly before lunchtime and left just before 5pm, but is aiming to be in tomorrow, to see the magazine out.

Theoretically, I'll have a full house, and tomorrow's magazine isn't looking terrible. It helps that it's small...

Watched episode 2 of Merlin this evening... The trouble with much of today's genre television, I feel, is that it's created by fans of the genres, who are well versed in the conventions of those genres. And so they follow them slavishly. Merlin, so far, has used clichés and stereotypes, and presented us with predictable, one-dimensional villains-du-jour. OK, it is only episode 2... but if they're recycling material already, it doesn't bode well.

Oh, and didn't they establish in episode 1 that Merlin didn't need incantations to make magic happen? So... why is he now using incantations? Is this how he 'learns' to control his power?

The setup for what looks to be a love triangle between Merlin, Guinevere and Arthur is very clumsy, and I hope they do something interesting with Morgana the Eyecandy sometime soon. Hell, I hope they do something interesting with the whole darned concept sometime soon.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

The Incredible Disappearing Spider

It's no secret that I'm not a big fan of spiders.

This evening, I found one sitting - the picture of innocence - on my bed.

Naturally, I tried to swat it but, the bed being rather soft and covered with a duvet, that didn't work out too well.

I tried several times to swat it, and then it vanished.

I'm pretty sure I didn't hallucinate it, so it really did just disappear in front of my eyes. One second (pre-swat) it was there, the next (after missing again) it was not. It could have crawled into my shirt sleeve, but I stripped completely and found no sign of it.

This is rather disquieting, as I need to go to bed right about now.

Equally disquieting, but in a very different way, was the phone call I received from my boss earlier this evening, who has had to take her husband to hospital. He may well have pneumonia and, having improved during the early part of last week, took a downturn towards the end and over the weekend.

Chances are, she won't be in tomorrow, so I'll have to get one of the copy controllers to cover the work she was doing on my Wednesday deadline, and there was a stack of other stuff she didn't get round to today that I'll have to fob off somewhere.

I had two designers off sick today - one admitted to hospital over the weekend, the other just generally 'unwell' - with another taking the day off to get her recently-broken arm checked over now it's been out of the sling for a couple of weeks.

I already knew one of my designers would be off tomorrow (for Eid), so I can only hope that my unwell designer will be back tomorrow, or we'll be potentially screwed.

Not good.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Meanwhile...

While I was at Collectormania, my parents had planned to pop over to my flat to finish off the bedroom furniture in preparation for the arrival of the bed on Monday.

They returned home a short while ago and, when I asked how things had gone, my mother smiled and said "We went to Kew Gardens instead... We'll have a whole day there tomorrow, as the bed is due between 12 and 6."

For crying out loud...

No, don't worry... I don't have plans for Monday night that might possibly involve the flat, and that 'P' word you have such trouble understanding. I'm not entertaining, or anything.

I swear they do this just to annoy me.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Uncommon Restraint

Headed off to Milton Keynes for Collectormania as planned. Nice, easy journey getting there, despite patches of fog on the way (my companion mentioned that it had been much worse on her way from home to pick me up, and she'd been limited to about 50mph on the motorway because of it).

The problem with going to Collectormania on a Sunday is that you're pretty much guaranteed to find a huge chunk of the cool stuff is already gone. The problem with Collectormania at the CentreMK is that it's shoehorned into one area of courtyard that's way too small for this kind of event. Once you place all the star guests, there's very little room for the vendors, and I get the impression that many are no longer attending because there's not enough room for a good display.

But hey, it's free entrance. Take that into account, and you can almost forgive the annoying, barging enthusiasts, and the idiots who think it's sensible to drive a pram through crowded, narrow walkways between stalls.

And the good news is that the next one - planned for early next year - has a whole new venue - at the local football stadium. Whether they'll be on the pitch or in the corridors remains to be seen, but I'd like to give it a try. Can't be any worse than Earls Court 2.

There were a couple of stall selling TransFormers, and I managed to grab the last Animated Voyager Optimus Prime - which seems rather hard to find in my neck of the woods - for a whole £2 cheaper than Voyagers at Toys'R'Us, so I was quite chuffed. He's turned out to be a bit of a disappointment - in terms of build quality, it feels kind of like a knock-off. Bits don't fit very well, parts don't clip together as they should, things fall off... but it's still pretty cool overall. Poseable and dynamic, with plenty of character. A bit of superglue will probably fix my biggest concerns.

I passed on Premium Series movie Bumblebee because they seem to have used matte paint. Anyone who's seen the movie would know that seriously shiny gloss was in order. Battle-damaged Arcee piqued my interest for a few moments, but I decided to pass... Though I almost regret that now, as I really like the mold.

So other than Optimus, all I got for myself was a couple of new t-shirts from the almost omnipresent Retro GT - a new design of 'Health Food' and a cool scanline effect Space Invader.

Although I've already got birthday and Christmas presents for my mother this year, I couldn't help but pick up another of the dragons in ex-Enchantica artist Andrew Bill's new line, Bookwyrms - Black Beauty certainly lives up to its name.

After we'd tired of the show - and having cleaned out the American foodstuffs shop for everything that tickled out fancy - some general retail therapy ensued as we wandered around the CentreMK to make the most of the visit.

It's actually quite a nice shopping centre - like Brent Cross, but (mainly) on one level only, and rather less chavvy. That said, my companion did point out several people with very dubious dress sense, and they weren't even in costume for Collectormania. On that subject, one passer-by (dressed in vest, slack trousers and miscellaneous tattoos) commented that she didn't understand why people dressed up for that sort of thing: "It's just pathetic". Right.

On the way back, we took the scenic route, just for fun, and visited a pub my companion hadn't been to for many years, then drove back to London via Leighton Buzzard. Quite a pleasant journey, on what had turned out to be a really lovely day. Mornings are getting chillier - my windows were steamed up again today - but the days have been bright and clear.

Shame it's getting dark so quickly now.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Of Early Starts and Headaches

Today could have gone a heck of a lot better...

The plan, such as it was, was to get over to the flat early to be available to receive the replacement furniture parts from MFI, have lunch with my sister, then pop off shopping for tiles and flooring for the kitchen.

I managed to sleep through my alarm, and my mother chose to check on me at 7.30... Coincidentally, the time I needed to leave the house to be sure of getting to the flat in time was 7.30.

I pointed out to my mother that there was no way I'd get to the flat in time for 8am, and she rather reluctantly offered to go over there herself, since she was already dressed and ready for the day... but then she spent another 15 minutes bumbling about.

Meanwhile, I did the bare bones of washing, literally threw on some clothes, and bolted out of the door... mere seconds after my mother.

We were fortunate enough with the train, despite missing one while walking to the station, and managed to arrive at the flat only a little after 8am. Thankfully, it turned out the delivery people had a hard time finding the flat (they phoned home from a location that sounded something like the right address, but was wrong in a couple of critical details, so my father attempted - three times - to give them directions, even though they had a GPS with the postcode tapped in.

They finally arrived sometime after 10am, delivered the new parts and took away the old and damaged. I put together then last drawer for the larger set of drawers and then went back to reading my book.

My father arrived to deal with the complicated processes like fitting the lighted rail to the wardrobe, connecting the two halves and adding the 'Space Genie' drawers (only to add them to the wrong places... and they're going to be very hard to remove), but the job was incomplete when we left for the day, for many reasons.

After having lunch (sandwiches at the flat... I cannot understand why my folks are so reluctant to try the restaurants all over the area) with my visiting sister, my mother and I headed off in search of a newly-opened tiling shop with which the kitchen people have a trade account. Since the directions he gave were aimed at drivers - we went by bus - they didn't help us very much, and we ended up heading in completely the wrong direction, only seeing signs pointing to the tile shop on our way back to the flat.

The driver of the bus on our return journey was possibly the grumpiest guy on the planet. One passenger asked him for directions to the shops, and he yelled that there were many shops along the stretch of road ahead, and that she should be more specific. She got off at the next stop. Shortly afterward, a guy got on carrying an ironing board, and the driver quibbled the safety of such an item. Two stops down the line, he stopped the bus and turned off the engine because he wanted the ironing board off his bus. After a brief argument, the owner of the ironing board disembarked (while other passengers protested on his behalf), calling the driver a racist.

By the time we got back to the flat - having stopped off at my optician to get the arms on my new glasses adjusted so they don't slip down my nose all the time - I had a nasty headache, which has persisted all evening.

We got home having missed Merlin, but it's repeated in the early hours, so we're aiming to record it. I hope this one is better than the first part.

Tomorrow, with any luck, I shall be heading to Milton Keynes for Collectormania...

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Commercial Realities

I had an informal chat with one of my staff today. About money.

Really bad subject to bring up with me, really bad subject to bring up at work at the moment. To make matters worse, we'd had an announcement today of five promotions within Sales - we now have four Commercial Managers (only a couple of years ago we made do with one) and a new Senior Salesperson. At least two of those promotions are the result of boarding the Brown-nose Express.

Basically, my designer is getting married and his girlfriend thinks he should be earning more. That probably tells you everything you need to know about their relationship (as in who wears the trousers).

I can understand where he's coming from, but he's already had it explained to him by my boss that he won't get any kind of pay rise till next April. I explained it to him again anyway, trying to put it into a bit of perspective (the trouble our boss went to to get everyone the right pay rise this year, Senior Designer redundancies purely to cut costs, etc), but I could already see him trying to figure out what he was going to tell his girlfriend.

He complained that he felt he was setting too many ads - my boss later asked if I thought this was his 'subtle' way of complaining about one of the other designers on my team - so I explained to him that no-one is employed to set editorial, it's all about the ads, and the fun stuff is just a sweetener. It looked for a moment as if he was going to argue - and I'm sure I will have that argument with the other designer sooner or later - but he didn't.

He'd been considering writing a letter to the MD, but I very swiftly talked him out of that, saying it was the quick way to be shown the door. Kicking up a fuss is not a good way to ensure better money where we work, let alone in the current economic climate.

And because it had been quite a sour conversation - much talk of Office Politics on my part, and much determining exactly what I could and could not tell him - I decided to switch to a new topic once we were done with that.

I've noticed he doodles when idle. He's actually rather good. Far better, in fact, that many of the webcomics out there. I told him as much, pointed him at a couple of useful links, and showed him that there is serious money to be made for those with talent.

He's got the talent... but he tends to procrastinate, and is generally quite lazy. As my boss said later, he'll charge through piles of ads when necessary, but he works lazily and sloppily. While I was away recently, much of his 'finished' editorial work got thrown back at him because he hadn't turned images from RGB to CMYK, which is pretty much as sloppy as it gets.

I'd like to think he'll give webcomics a whirl.

I'd like to think his girlfriend would be supportive if he did.

I'm an optimist at heart.

When we finished talking, he had a smile on his face - mission accomplished! - and I half-joked that perhaps I should shift into Human Resources. He agreed, suggesting that I take out an ad in Classified (as a counsellor?!)

Really must talk to our HR Officer when next she's in.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Other plans

OK, how weird is it that my parents are currently spending more time at my flat than I am?

I know, they're not only footing the bill for most of my furniture, but they're putting it together and installing the wood floor and I should be grateful. I am, truly.

But when I'm trying to make sneaky plans, and actually have the opportunity to make those plans happen... until my mother announces they're planning to stay at the flat later and then probably eat out so they can get as much as possible done before Thursday (when they're away) and the weekend (when I'll be making some kitchen decisions), it can be more than a little frustrating.

Equally so when they tell me first that the one day the window people can't have to redo the kitchen is the Thursday they're out of town, only to decide to hand over the keys so they can do the replacement window on Thursday.

What is going on?

Should I blame the kitchen designer and his comment about 'only entertaining every other night'?

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Accomplishing... Something

Well, having figured out how to deal with my TransFormers collection, I thought I'd finally do some photography for it...

...And promptly got bored.

That seems to be the deal: I get a new toy, take some photos, put it away in a display cabinet... and then hope that I'm happy with one of the photos because I'll get bored if I have to do it again.

Granted, part of the problem today was that I started taking photos then, when I went to get the next toy, found my mother getting ratty because the LCD TV she bought for use with the IR camera wasn't working. It switched on, then blacked out. Turned out the power socket it a bit loose, so if the cable isn't plugged in just right, it won't stay on.

Anyway, that sorted, she shifted everything back... so it was all in the way of my cabinets. After I'd shifted it all earlier so it wasn't.

I'm so glad I'll be moving out sometime soon.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

A Lightbulb Moment

Here's me, trying yet again to figure out how to refresh my website's Collections section to make it easier to update, and I'm wondering how on earth I can add things quickly and simply to the myriad subsections within the TransFormers part alone.

How can I arrange it so that I'm not messing around with HTML tables every time, adding cells, correcting the formatting, adding photos from Photobucket, typing text, then going back and forth between working view and preview mode just to make sure the formatting is still working.

Then it occurs to me.

I have a blog.

How easy would it be to set up a second blog purely for my TransFormers collection?

Pretty easy, as it happens. A click here, a click there. I don't even need to set up a new account. I only need a new account because I don't want any connection between this blog and my website, but I do want to link between the toy blog and my website.

Each 'review' would be a new entry, and they'd be sorted by adding tags. Could it be any easier?

That works very nicely, thank you.

I can even have full-size photos linked to the text... and wouldn't even have to sift through my back catalogue - I can take new photos as and when I please, and start with the new stuff then work my way back.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Two scary things:

While I still remember it, last night's dream was quite a curious affair. It started off with me going toy shopping with a ladyfriend and, carrying on the grand tradition I've had for many years of finding TransFormers in dreams that I haven't found in real life, I very quickly helped myself to TF: Animated Voyager Optimus Prime (which seems to be the best version out there... if you can find it). My ladyfriend seemed desperate to leave, suggesting that I could make my own way onward (home? elsewhere? who knows?) by bus, allowing her to drive on wherever she needed to go.

I kept putting her off and shushing her, trying to act as though I was too distracted to hear her in an attempt to stop her leaving (a tactic which would most definitely result in a kicked backside, were I to try it in real life), so I could carry on filling my trolley with wondrous toys.

The shop I did not recognise... Certainly not one of the dream shops I've been to before (brighter, above ground... and filled with new toys, rather than G1), so it was a whole new experience for me both in and out of the dream.

But I digress.

When I finally decided I had everything I wanted, I left with my ladyfriend... and promptly stumbled into a scene from Alien vs Predator: Requiem. We must have taken a wrong turn on the route home, because we ended up going through tiny, dark, residential streets... where people were hurriedly sealing themselves indoors or being evacuated.

Because there were facehuggers everywhere.

Ditching the car (God only knows why, but it was a dream after all), we were ushered into a garage and sealed in. With one of those clear plastic screens you occasionally find on large tents or caravans, which was 'sealed' with plastic poppers. I was about to point out that we were going to have some privacy at last until I saw the expression on my ladyfriend's face. Needless to say, she was not happy.

But we stayed there, and were safe, and I woke up having seen no extraterrestrial-wrought devastation... Rather odd.

The second scary thing comes from the brain-melting conversation I had with my sister about her recent boating holiday. She and her husband had invited a recently widowed friend along and he, in turn, had invited his new girlfriend. Or rather, one of them.

She had declined - having been unable to arrange time off work... or perhaps because she's only known him a couple of weeks? - so he made do with keeping in touch with her by phone the whole time.

But even that's not the scary thing.

The scary thing is that, not only does he - by all accounts - have two girlfriends on the go via the wonders of internet dating, only a couple of months after his wife died of cancer... but he's going round saying things like "It's great... it's like being 16 again, only knowing everything I know now!"

I shudder to think.

My experience of him (and his late wife) suggested that he liked to be 'in charge', to the point where he would regularly humiliate his wife in public. Supposedly they were not like that in private, but does that make him any less a prick?

Just goes to show, internet dating only really works for morons.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Less Than Magical

The funny thing about the Radio Times, being a BBC publication, is that it can gush praise about a new show in a slick, multi-page feature, then give it a very lukewarm write-up in the listings.

And so it came to pass that the new BBC fantasy TV series, Merlin, garnered such a review.

Quite rightly.

The writer, in his interview, was very clear that they were not simply jumping on the Harry Potter bandwagon... but also mentioned Smallville as an inspiration. The truth of the latter is obvious.

It's competently done, but if it carries on recycling folks from Doctor Who and Torchwood (Eve Myles in the first episode, taking two roles) and insulting the ear with wooden dialogue ("There's something about you, Merlin... I can't quite put my finger on it"), it's going to be scraping the standard of the later seasons of Smallville without ever reaching the quality of the early seasons.

The odd thing is that the dialogue was very good (if a little predictable) in places... but where there was a critical moment, it faltered and came out lowest-common-denominator, trite and unimaginitive.

Still, early days.

Where it first lost me was in its presentation of Camelot. The French castle they chose is very clearly not English. We didn't make anything that ornate, so it's far too fine to work as Arthur's (or Uther's) Camelot. Nice castle, just not very believable.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Flocking Together

Theoretically, this post will have been made with the latest version of Flock, a web browser I originally downloaded a couple of years ago to make uploading images to Photobucket much easier.

I say 'theoretically' because I had a devil of a job getting an updated Flock to recognise my Photobucket account in its 'Accounts and Services' tab. the blog it added no trouble at all. Photobucket steadfastly refused to appear.

Of course, the problem was solved by updating the software, so all seems well now (and I suppose it's ironic that a browser I downloaded specifically for its Photobucket wizardry would later feature bugs that hamper its performance in that way) and I'm giving Flock's internal Blog Poster a test drive.

This may well turn into the weekend that last weekend wasn't: a time that I actually manage to accomplish things.

Aside from getting Flock up and running in a way that should, theoretically, make life easier for blogging and storing/cataloging my photos (Mozilla frequently crashes on login to Blogger, and Photobucket places draconian restrictions on the files thou shalt upload), I've managed to sketch and ink something I've been meaning to do for a good four years - the "Proud to be a Lick & Stick Monkey" T-shirt image.

It's nothing like I imagined, all those years ago - I'd wanted something halfway between cartoon and realism - but it's cute, effective, and incorporates the essence of the original idea in a far more suitable style.

If only I could have scanned it on my own computer, rather than using my parents' (oh, the hypocrisy! I'll use my parents' computer and scanner, but deny them the use of my laptop!). Mind you, while I thought transferring the scan by memory stick was going to be the slow option, I am revising my opinion. That machine still hasn't finished sending the image by email!

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Boiled Over

As of today, I have a Corgi-approved boiler in full working order, and likely to last me for years.

This opinion, expressed by my uncle's 'Central Heating Guy' - they've worked with each other for 20 years - is rather different from the opinion expressed by the British Gas engineer. Quite the contrary, in fact, to his assertion that it wasn't working properly, and that I could pay £500 to get it 'fixed' and still have - I quote - "a piece of crap on the wall".

I may complain.

Welcome to Planet Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

As if this day couldn't get any weirder, when I reported my computer's strange glitches of this evening to my parents, my mother expressed much concern... Because she had been hoping to use my computer for any "emergency online banking", should her own pack up and die.

Now, set aside for a moment that I've been telling her to get that machine of hers properly serviced for at least the last couple of years.

She wanted to use my computer? And, knowing her as I do, that means she wouldn't have told me about it were it not for the problems I've had with my computer today.

Seriously, what the fuck?

Anyone ever heard of privacy?

Yes, damn right I've got a password on that sucker now.

It's annoying enough that she's kept a full set of keys to my flat - external and internal doors - when the whole purpose of moving out was to get some damned privacy... I'm going to make sure I take them back once the bedroom is sorted out. The idea of her 'popping in' when I'm out really does not appeal.

Small improvements?

A couple of hitches today.

The most obvious being that, having finished today's magazine at around 4.45, it was un-finished for us by one client slip-up and one Sales slip-up.

The former was due to a lack of communication between two business partners, the latter due to a cross-sale that went unsupervised while the Salesperson in question was sick and off work.

Tsk.

Still, we only ended up staying about 10 minutes late... even if that was, technically, 50 minutes later than we finished. And, hey, any waiting around after 5.30 on press day now costs the sales team in question £50 per head in Production.

The thing that really bugged me was the self-congratulatory conversations going on between the members of the sales team, who sit pretty much right behind me thanks to this damned silly open plan office. "I think we've done really well this month," is becoming their monthly mantra... They may have been better than average last month but, this time, having had an extra week to sell and dropping 24 pages (including 4 pages of Editorial which had already been set because the Editor got her work through on time) to give themselves a manageable target, they were still selling on press day. Even the Classified team did better (though they confessed that might be partially because the new girl has inherited one of the most organised folders we have).

I'm sorry, I just cannot congratulate them for this continual mediocrity. Honestly, how can they be proud of themselves when their magazine is 24 pages lighter than predicted (according to the new predictions which take the flagging economy into account), following 5 weeks of selling time, when they'd normally have 4... Though, technically, that's 5 weeks of selling time when it should be 3, as they're meant to close a full week before we go to press.

In other news, my flat has new windows. Unfortunately one will have to be replaced in due course because the glaziers 'forgot' to install the extractor fan in the kitchen window.

I'm basically livid, because they did such a good job with the windows in my parents' house and yet this '2-day job' turned into a 2 and a half day job which still isn't finished.

At least the kitchen still seems under control. Measurements were checked. Example handles were passed to my mother for approval by me. Images of a slight redesign have been emailed to me.

On another subject, can anyone tell me what the hell was going on in the Olympics (Paralympics, specifically) handover ceremony? Did Lord Nelson really play guitar, or did I imagine that? Seriously, three words sprang to mind: sweet monkey jeebus.

And, come on Mr Johnson, would it really have hurt to tidy yourself up a bit? Maybe do up the buttons on your jacket? Just one, perhaps? It honestly would make you look (slightly) less like an Orang-Utan.

Edit: OK... My PC really is worrying me. Before making this post, all my browsers crashed. I tried to restart and it didn't even finish shutting down, let alone get to restarting. I turned off the power, waited, turned on again... nothing.

So I pulled the power lead out and tried again, with some success... and I was able to make the first draft of this post.

But then I shut down, plugged back in and restarted... Only to find I'd lost my modem. For the umpteenth time.

Reinstalling it seems to have worked (as usual), but this is really starting to annoy me. I have now backed up what I consider to be my most important data... And I think it's time to seriously consider a Mac. Almost.

Monday headaches

Technically, today went without a hitch.

My team is back to being three designers, with our 'floater' helping out on next Monday's editorial because, despite all her protestations, I don't think that magazine's designer could finish all the editorial in six days without staying late every night.

She's very good... just slow.

And, it would seem, extremely possessive.

She looked so despondant when I told her to set aside some of the simpler, more templated pages for the 'floater' that I almost wanted to let her try to do it all herself.

But, frankly, I'm a little fed up of her trying and not getting it all finished till after 5.30 on press day. She's really given me no option by taking two weeks holiday right when she should have been working on her magazine. She only does one a month now - though it does editionalise three ways - but two weeks holiday still manages to take a chunk out of her design time.

It would almost be easier if she did still have two deadlines a month because a two week holiday would guarantee she has to be covered for one deadline. Now, she can either get most of it done early (heavily dependant on the editor in question), or accept help.

I think, by the end of the day, she was happier accepting help (having complained bitterly at spending a whole half hour teaching the 'floater' her style and way of working), hopefully realising that there were now fewer pages she has to really work on now the grunt work is out of the way.

And, hell, if this means we're finished by Friday, and only have ads to worry about on Monday, so much the better.

On the downside, I started feeling quite unwell today. Possibly a cold on the way, judging by the way my nose is feeling right now. My temperature went a bit wonky after lunch and, by the time I got home, I had a rather nasty headache brewing. Only brewing, mind, and it seemed far better once I'd had a nap after dinner. Shame I wasted half my evening on that nap.

As far as my windows go, I'm assuming no news is good news... No panicked or angry phonecalls from glaziers or neighbours. And MFI are delivering a whole new drawer set to replace the faulty one... but that's arriving right at the end of the month.

Progress and hold-ups

Well, the weekend got off to a good start with my 'design meeting' about my new kitchen. The redesign - subtle, but worthwhile - looks excellent. Much more clear worktop area, and a small, foldaway breakfast bar. Nice vinyl flooring to be chosen. Confirmed my choice of door/drawer face design, but only managed to narrow worktops down to a shortlist of 5.

I was gratified to find that I had discounted most of the ones my mother liked. More of that, please.

The shortlist features a fairly plain dark grey marble effect, something very similar but flecked with gold, a very warm reddish marble effect, a fairly plain blue marble effect, or a fairly dramatic blue marble effect flecked with lighter blues, whites and red.

Kind of favouring the last, but the reddish one looked pretty good. It just looked a little bit too Traditional.

Thing is, as I'm picking stuff out for my flat, I'm finding that my taste runs far more toward wood than the sharp, minimalist, flat-or-gloss colour that I'd like to think I want. I'm going for warm rather than cool. Cosy rather than sexy.

It's quite an eye opening experience.

My mother and I departed the showroom having handed over the deposit - approximately one third of the total cost - and regretting somewhat that we hadn't visited them before we went looking for bedroom furniture.

The salesman/designer is really very good. Personably and knowledgeable, and he also knows when to offer advice and when to let the customer make the decisions.

Of course, things didn't go smoothy for the whole weekend... How could they?

Having forgotten to visit the shops on the ground floor to warn them of the imminent window works - tomorrow, starting early! - on my first visit, I had to trip back to the flat with my folks in the afternoon to do that. Then, rather than going on to look into beds - as had been the main plan for the day - I helped out in constructing some of the bedroom furniture. We actually got started on that so late (my father sleeps really late at the weekend), it was hardly worth heading off to the bed shops.

We made good headway in the furniture, though, finishing off the bedside drawers and very nearly finishing the full-size drawers as well... They would have been completely finished were it not for the error in manufacture in one side of the last drawer - the dowel holes had been drilled in completely the wrong places, so it didn't fit. At all.

And while my father was able to drill new holes for the side, he wasn't able to do the same for the face. We're probably going to have to buy a whole new set... which actually might not be so bad, considering that a couple were damaged in construction thanks to some overzealous hammering.

After deciding to call it a day, we walked down to the local pizzaria - a really good one, just another reason why this flat was such a good purchase - for dinner. I'm a semi-regular there, as I often end up there when dining out with a friend. I was half expecting my father to order one of the pizza alternatives, but he joined in the spirit of the thing... Surprising all.

Today was a complete wash-out... odd, considering the fine weather we had. It's almost as if summer is finally here (in September?!). The most I managed to do was a bit more paintwork on my TF:Animated Soundblaster (the gloss black actually doesn't show up that well, versus the Movie Optimus Primal I did a while back) and, eventually, taking some more photos.

I really should have taken pictures of my half-size G1 Seekers (Sunstorm, Dirge, Thrust, Ramjet (minus one tail fin), Black Starscream - aka Blingscream, owning to his predominantly black and gold deco - and Ghost Starscream... With Thundercracker still in his box and Ghost Dirge as kinda the odd man out), but the best I could manage was adding Blingscream into some of the shots I took of Soundblaster.

Oddly, Ghost Starscream shows that there could have been a bit more posability to the G1 seekers - they very nearly already have a combined hip/knee joint, if only the look of the plane mode had sacrificed a little more to allow for some backward rotation.

Still, they were excellent models for their time and, ignoring the odd flaw (and the frankly terrible sticker quality), these half size remakes are great stuff.

Skipping the backlog

Managed to get Animated Soundblaster into an almost finished state. Still not entirely happy with the coverage in black or the consistency of the flourescent yellow, but it works reasonably well.

Since it's something creative, I decided to take a few quick photos, mainly to post them on the Collectors' Club forum, but I may as well stick some up here as well, just to prove I am doing something with my time...

Animated Soundblaster rocks out!

Vehicle mode, with Buzzsaw mounted on the roof.

Soundblaster and Soundwave play duelling guitars, in an attempt to determine once and for all whose rock is superior.

Despite his small size, fairly floppy knee joints and limited shoulders, he's actually quite a dynamic figure. Having the vehicle mode in black did start me thinking of the van from The A-Team. My thought process then led me to the next most logical line in Hasbro's TransFormers Crossovers line: The A-Team Transformers: A-Team Van/B.A. Baracus, Corvette/Face, Helicopter/Murdoch and Jeep/Colonel Lynch/Decker.

Somebody please stop me. It's all so very wrong...

Repaints

Amongst the growing list of things I have yet to photograph, I have been repainting my second TransFormers: Animated Soundwave into TF:A Soundblaster this weekend.

I am slowly realising that there is perhaps too much black... but I intend to vary it to some degree my making some glossy while leaving the rest matte, to stay in keeping with the Animated toy stylings.

Rather than slavishly repaint Soundwave using different colours on exactly the same pattern, I'm intending to follow my preference for asymmetry and do something different on each side. The bonnet was easy, the rest... I'm not sure yet. But the fake flourescent blue has been replaced by real flourescent yellow (it's a rather weak paint, so it has to be layered quite heavily), and the greenish-gold has been replaced with Games Workshop Boltgun Metal, with odd highlights in Mithril Silver and Tin Bitz. Oh, and I've given him gold rims/hubcaps.

And Laserbeak has become Buzzsaw, obviously.

The day's events

To summarise:

Had my appointment with the Chiropractor today. On the way there by train I was practicing the speech I was going to give them about how I couldn't afford to keep up the treatment because of my mortgage (though it's equally because I really don't enjoy the schlep to Acton for 15 minutes sat in a chair with weights hanging off me). Turns out the doctor switched me over to a 'one appointment per month' remedial schedule last time. I can afford that, and the Acton Farmers' Market is a reasonably extra excuse to make the trip. As it was today, for instance, when I picked up a selection of Jumbuck's pies for lunch when I got back to the flat.

Work on the bedroom floor has been progressing slowly but surely, kinda. When I looked at the floor so far laid, I noted that it had all been fitted backwards - contrary to the instructions on the DVD and the leaflet in each pack of boards. That, along with the fact that the boards are slightly bowed despite having been stored flat for two whole days conspired to make slow work of it. I'm sure it would have been far quicker if he'd done it the right way round.

Of course, the floor was more than half done by the time I got there, so it would have been ridiculous to pull it all up and start again the right way. I'm told my father watched the DVD several times... and yet he's done this and one other key thing wrong: Wedges are placed at the middle of each tile, rather than at the joins between tiles.

The way he's doing it works, no mistake... but it's certainly not the easy way. Had he done it the right way round, he wouldn't need a hammer to tap the boards into place.

While I was over at the flat, I decided to pay a visit on the bathroom people, since I hadn't heard any more about the redesign/refit I'd asked for last week. Bizarrely, the gentleman in the shop (whose name is scarily similar to that of an old colleague) reckoned the cause of the delay was that I hadn't given him all the measurements for the window.

Er. What?

A whole bathroom to play with, and he was worried about the size and precise position of a window?

And it's not as if he hadn't done anything. Oh, no. He'd thrashed out a lovely redesign and a competent refit as two different options. The redesign is the obvious favourite because it makes much better use of the space available. We'll need to discuss it with a plumber, however, as moving the toilet (and thereby necessitating an extension to the sewage pipes) could prove problematic (meaning expensive).

But it really does seem to be the best way to do things... Rather than block up the entrance with the shower cubicle, he's placed it over by the window. The sink is right next to the toilet, and it's surrounded by cabinets. If it's possible to do it at a reasonable price, I'd like to do it that way... If nothing else, a well-designed bathroom with do wonders for the resale value, but the adjusted layout makes so much more sense.

I also wanted to pop back to the kitchen people, to query a couple of points on their quote, but they turned out to be closed. In the end, I dropped them an email when I got back home.

While still at the flat, though, I had a very strange phone call... or rather, I'd missed it, and picked up the message when I got back to the flat...

Yesterday, I visited an optician near home for an eye test. I'd received a summons from my old optician in Notting Hill, telling me they'd written to me a couple of times before, but had no response. I'm fairly certain I haven't ignored any correspondence from them, so I can only conclude they're mistaken, or the previous letters got lost in the post.

Nevertheless, a trip down to Notting Hill Gate for an eye test did not appeal. I ended up going down that way anyway, but I'll get to that later. I went to a different, far more convenient optician, had the eye test (my right eye has not changed in any way over the last four years or more, but my left eye has deteriorated another quarter point and now matches the right) and, with the help of a very good sales assistant, selected new frames.

Yes, they're designer. Go figure. It seems that frames for my glasses are the only real concession I make to these up-their-own-arses, overpriced 'labels'. I shan't name names, but I have to say these glasses are seriously cool. It may be time for a new profile pic, in which I'm actually wearing my glasses. I meant it.

So anyway. With all that sorted, I was told to expect them to be ready for collection in about a week - very convenient, as I wouldn't be able to get to them after work, but next weekend would certainly have been doable.

And then I got a message from them today saying they were ready for collection.

Er. What?

A whole week early?

So I phoned them back and repeated the message, querying that I'd been told it'd be about a week before they were ready.

"Oh, yes, we were able to get them done early, and they came back today."

Wow.

So I popped back over there to pick them up and get them fitted... and did I say they look sexy?

I'll need to pop back again next week anyway, as the adjustment wasn't quite right - they slip forward a touch. On the upside, as they're slightly smaller that my last pair, I need only tilt my head a fraction and I'm looking over the rims. There's lots of mileage in that. I mean, seriously, you'd barely notice my head move, and yet there I'd be, looking at you over the rims of my sexy new glasses.

I'm not kidding here, folks.

After that, I came back home and vegged out for the rest of the day. One can only handle so much excitement, after all.

Ps. Yesterday's jaunt to the optician turned into a trip to the environs of Notting Hill because I was searching out a present for a friend. When I got to the appropriate shop, one of the assistants informed me that the item I sought was an online exclusive.

You'd think the website might have mentioned that.

A Form of Closure

Y'know, it's a funny thing... Referring to my Facebook 'incident' a couple of days ago, I think it has turned out to be a good thing.

I have:

1. Seen a photo of someone who had an inexhaustible supply of excuses for not sending me one themselves.
2. Thus proven to myself that this same person was not a figment of my imagination (though it would have been a shared delusion, as I know a couple of others who chatted with this person online).

To cut a long story short, something that started, flourished, then crashed and burned online has now found closure online. Finally.

God, I wish I could tell Diana... She'd have been in stitches.

Thought for the day: A new 'urban dictionary'-type article in a newspaper today defined Facebook as "an internet meeting place for people with one common interest: Themselves"

That says it all.

Representing an irrational fear of... leaving my parents alone?

OK, weird dream time.

As our tale begins, I am sat at my computer doing whatever, and I spy a group of three blond-haired monkeys (or are they small people?) dancing about on the rooftops across the road. Of course, this being a dream, the rooftops are somewhat closer, as if the houses back right onto their garages, with no garden in between. The three of them are looking terrified, and their eyes are darting around as if they're looking for something. Down they leap, to the pavement across the road (again, not possible in the real world because of the gardens and garages between the houses and the pavement) where they are suddenly beset by a group of men who leap out of a van with syringes. Each one of the monkey-things is injected (with a tranquiliser, it would seem) and dragged into the back of the van.

Because something strikes me as odd about all this, I reach for my camera. I fumble to get it ready so that it takes a photo without the flash (it's broad daylight, so even on Auto settings, it shouldn't feel the need to fire the flash!) but, despite my best efforts, the flash goes off, alerting the men to my surveillance.

One of them runs across the road and demands that I hand over the picture (or the camera, since it's digital), and I flatly refuse. After all, what can he do? I have every right to take a photo of something that suspicious. He makes a grab for something on my desk (wait... my window was open?!) and so begins a long campaign of terror waged by these people, who are described as 'gypsies', in town with their bizarre circus.

At every turn from then on, my family and I are accosted by one or more of these people, and threatened over the photo I took. Every time one of my parents leaves the back door open, I rush to close it in case they get in (on more than one occasion they very nearly do, but I manage to beat them back over the fence or through the gate). Slowly it dawns on me that, even if I destroyed (deleted) the photo, they'd require some impossible proof that I hadn't duplicated it somewhere, so we'd never truly be free of them.

One of their number, a middle-aged woman with curly blonde hair, tells me that they'll keep on taking things from me until I hand over the photo/camera. At this point, I notice how quiet the house has become. I run downstairs and find the place deserted... They've taken my parents.

So, basically, I admit defeat. I head to their encampment, camera in hand, and see the display of 'trophies' they've gathered over the days/weeks/months (toys, for the most part... but arranged in their boxes like a display in a shop). When I present them the camera and delete the photo in front of them, they greet me as one of their own... but I'm not sure they returned any of my stuff (not that they said they would, of course, only that they'd stop taking more), and they don't leave. They accept my defeat entirely, and just walk all over me.

I'm pretty sure there was more... I believe I even had to smuggle my parents out of the camp... but that's all I can remember clearly.

A Day of Rest

Or inactivity... I think that's a more accurate description.

My father couldn't be roused before about 3pm today, so it was hardly worth going over to the flat. It's no great shakes, because we have till next Wednesday to get the bedroom floor finished. In some ways, it's probably a good thing that we've had a break today. For example, my uncle is popping over this evening to go over some legal stuff, and it wouldn't do for my father to be falling asleep when he gets here.

So, instead, my folks went to Harrow to do a bit of shopping - not least new bags for my vacuum cleaner, already choked with brick dust, plaster, and odd little bits of wood.

I, meanwhile, intended to do a bit of reading. I probably made it through half a dozen lines before deciding I wasn't really in the mood. It's odd that I'm able to read for hours at a stretch while at the flat, but can't focus on a book at home. The most I can manage on average is a couple or three pages before I fall asleep.

With my folks' vacuum basically out of action (broken in many ways, and barely able to pick up loose hair), I took a dustpan and brush to my floor and the area under my matress. This, after accidentally spilling some rather dirty white spirit (which I'd been using to clean my brushes while painting some of my new aquisitions) on the corner of the bed. Since the mattress and its coverings were hastily thrown in the wash, I had the opportunity to see the insides of my wallbed and, let me tell you, did not like what I saw.

So the dustpan and brush got a real work-out, picking up great piles of terribly organic-looking dust. How (I asked, eyes raised to Heaven) would such dust get under the mattress, and cover the base of the bed frame so thoroughly? It boggles the mind.

Once I got onto the floor, the dust was fluffier, and far easier to get rid of. Not as good a job as a vacuum cleaner would do, but it'll do for now. It aggravated my allergies for a while, but it seems to have settled down.

Yet another thing I forgot to mention yesterday was that I came to the beginnings of a revelation about my writing, or the lack thereof. Possibly.

I'd been struggling to come up with a compelling and believable reason for one of my characters to leave her old life behind to go travelling and adventuring, and I'd completely drawn a blank...

Well, that's not true. I came up with a reason, I just didn't like it. It didn't necessarily fit with the character, though it did go some way to explaining the way she presents herself.

Anyway, it occurred to me that part of the problem I'm having in getting any actual writing done is my habit of distancing myself from my characters. I've never wanted any of them to appear as (barely disguised?) fantasy versions of myself, and so have eschewed any similarities or connections... but, in this one instance at least, a possible connection popped into my head that immediately made some sense to me.

Earlier in the year, I made mention of my 'globetrotting granny' and all her travels. I've never been one for travel - I like being in new places, I just don't like the 'getting there' part - but I always envied her wanderlust, and wished that some of it had been passed down to me in the family genes.

So now, tentatively, this character of mine may be following in the footsteps of a recently-deceased relative, rather than running away from a bereavement. There was always going to be a death involved, but this one felt like a better death than the one I'd originally planned. It seemed better to have the character running toward something rather than away from something. That may offer a better explanation for a couple of other things, but we shall see.

In other news, I had one of my bizarre turns today, and looked up a name on Facebook and Google. I should really stop doing that, as nothing good ever comes of it. My blood is no longer boiling, but my nerves are still frazzled...

Thing is, I despise Facebook and all it's 'online community' pretensions. Far too many of its users follow suit with most of my colleagues, and use it purely as a means of collecting and viewing photos of themselves and friends acting like twats while drunk. Anyone with an account can ask any other member to list them as a friend, so the system becomes meaningless... particularly since so many users (probably sad and without any real-life friends) try to sign up anybody and everybody connected with anyone foolish enough to accept.

And it's not even as if members have to use their own names. At work, I heard that someone had found themselves on Facebook without having set up that particular account/username... and there were photos and a profile. It's just a new kind of identity theft.

Hell... There's a thought... Perhaps I should put in my own name and see what floats to the surface.

How could I have forgotten...

...That I'd actually picked up two Animated Soundwaves?

My intention is to repaint the second as SoundBlaster, replacing most if not all of the gold with silver (or something darker, but still metallic) and the 'neon' blue with flourescent yellow.

And, of course, Laserbeak will become Buzzsaw.

OK, I'm a geek. And?

Browsing

Rather than head to the flat with my folks today, I elected to toddle off to Brent Cross and look into a bit of 'lifestyle shopping' - extra furniture for the lounge mainly, but anything else that might catch my fancy.

While my folks were planning to make an early start, it was damn near 11am when they finally left. For some reason, when my mother was ready, my father wasn't (though both looked ready!) and then when he was ready, my mother had started on the housework - loading up the dishwasher, hanging out the washing, etc. I have noted many times before that, whenever my mother announces "we're just off now" she actually means "we'll be off in about half an hour", but this really was quite strange.

Once I was ready, I walked off to the bus stop for Brent Cross, and was rather amused to find the estimated journey time to be about half an hour. Ahem. Make that 45-50 minutes, TfL.

It was quite a pleasant journey - a far cry from my last outing to Harrow - and I arrived quite looking forward to doing some browsing.

I don't normally browse. I'm the kind of guy who has a good idea of what I want, and go straight to it. Browsing can actually be quite uncomfortable for me, as it's basically going into a shop with the vaguest idea of what I'm looking for, and attempting to make a choice on the fly.

At least I wasn't planning on buying.

Still, I found that 'small double' matresses are easier to come by that 'small double' beds... So it looks like I'll have to head to specialist bed shops, despite what seem to be higher prices (even in their sales) than department stores.

Things like coffee tables tend to be standard sizes (60cm wide) which may be a little too wide for the space I have available. There are other options, such as small chests or drawer units which will offer additional storage, so there are still plenty of choices.

Typically, I browsed the toy sections as well. Fenwicks had wave one of Hasbro's new Universe/Classics line, so I bagged Prowl and Sunstreaker for £12.95 each, the new price for the Deluxe size. Tankor (aka Octane) doesn't quite work for me... those shoulders and lanky legs just don't seem to suit him.

I'd also intended to get a present for a friend, since she recently grabbed a selection of Kingtoy's half-size TF Generation 1 Seekers for me, having found them at her husband's favourite model shop. Sadly, while the intended gift is 'available', it wasn't on the shelves at Brent Cross... So I may just have to look elsewhere, or possibly order online if it turns out to be a store exclusive.

Once Brent Cross had been exhausted, I tripped over the road to Toys'R'Us and found not only the Universe stuff, but the new wave of Animated Deluxes - Jazz, Snarl (aka Slag), Soundwave and Oilslick. From this selection, I nabbed Jazz and Soundwave, and then ground my teeth when I noticed the TRU price for Universe Deluxes is the same old £9.99. Bastages.

Oh well. At least now I know to buy from TRU, not the department stores. Unless I'm desperate.

Still no sign of Voyager Optimus Prime, though. Whether this is because he's sold out (not inconceivable) or because he's extremely shortpacked (in some areas of the States, the Voyager size version is considered to be a myth because it's so scarce) I cannot say... but I shall keep looking.

I called my folks when I got home to check in on their progress. The bedroom floorboards are sorted, so the floor proper can be started tomorrow. At least one room is looking very good... Shame about the windows.

And Furthermore...

The laminate flooring and underlay arrived yesterday, delivered to the front door of the block of flats. The delivery guy started to lug it upstairs in curious stages, leaving both his truck and the front door open to passers-by, so I suggested he just brought it indoors and I'd lug it upstairs. He was - no surprises - more than happy to accept, and said that they're not really supposed to cart the stuff up several flights of stairs.

It didn't occur to me that I'd be lugging 217Kg of flooring up three flights of stairs, and that it would be hard, tiring work, because I didn't read the bloody label. It said '217Kg' quite plainly, but I only paid attention to that once I'd got everything lined up outside my door. Silly me.

Even in 15kg chunks, the batches of laminate flooring were heavy, and I was completely exhausted by the time I was done... I had been expecting my father's help in carrying it all up but, having been delayed by problems on the train, he arrived long after I'd finished. I'd intended to wait till he arrived to drag it all indoors because I was truly exhausted, but then I noticed the dark cloud rolling in.

(I'm not sure the laminate can really have been 15Kg per batch because there were 11 batches of that and three lots of underlay, and the underlay sure as hell didn't weigh 30+Kg per batch, but it wasn't labelled... whereas the laminate was clearly labelled as 15Kg per batch. Weird.)

Of course, now I have the flooring, there's a bit of a waiting game to play. The laminate requires 24 hours to 'acclimatise', while the underlay requires 48 hours. Something a bit squiffy about that... as you're delaying for two days because of the first stage, when the second stage is ready to commence after one.

Still, we had plenty to keep us busy.

Having taken up the vile carpet, we found hardboard. This did not answer the questions of squeaky boards or hollow-sounding patches in the hall, so that had to come up too. The former question was easily solved - the plumbers to fitted the heating were utter cowboys, and they didn't bother fixing back the floorboards they pulled up to lay the pipework for the central heating. The latter question is... more complicated.

A huge chunk of the hallway is one large board that's balanced atop some joists and underneath the skirting boards. We can fix that by screwing it down (assuming we can locate the joists with any certainty), but that still leaves it about a quarter of an inch below the level of the floorboards at one end, with a gentle slope at the other. My father thinks he has a plan to fix it. My mother would like to call in a professional.

Today could have been better. We seem unable to start work much before 2pm because of my father's habit of sleeping till lunchtime. The delay was exacerbated today due to his dental appointment, which meant that he got there somewhere after 3pm.

On the upside, we did have a visit from the local kitchen designer, who concurred with my assessment of the rather daft layout of the kitchen. Currently, there are worktops on two sides of the kitchen, but both are broken in the middle by the sink and hob respectively. The new plan will be to put the sink into one corner (below the window, so I can admire the view and have the best light... while I do the dishes) and the hob/oven almost in the opposite corner, towards the fridge. We'll also be making better use of the below-worktop space (a whole unit of drawers! A corner cupboard with shelves that pop out when the door is opened to maximise on the amount of space used therein!) and putting in some more over-worktop storage. On paper, it seems spiffy. Can't wait to see what the designer comes up with... I've picked out a colour (in a bizarre coincidence, virtually the same colour as the bedroom furniture) and gone for the simplest style from the cheaper range he offered. We'll need to have a 'design meeting' for me to pick out the worktop, etc. but that should be quick enough.

Their schedule for installation is full up till mid next month but, frankly, the bathroom is a bigger concern than the kitchen. What I have now will work, but the bathroom is wasting huge amounts of space and looks very untidy.

While I've said that I'll go to the flat tomorrow - we were hoping for a full day of work on the bedroom floor - I may change my mind and pop over to Brent Cross to peruse some other furniture (and, ahem, Toys'R'Us). For the most part, I'll probably end up going with Ikea (certainly for the extra display cabinet... but it'll be nice to see what else is on offer, and for how much.

And when I say "we were hoping for a full day of work on the bedroom floor", I mean just that - past tense. When we got home today, we had a message from my uncle, requesting the presence of my folks in a meeting with the solicitor dealing with my grandmother's estate. Sounds ominous... but it seems that most of the delays in getting it sorted out are because my uncle hasn't actually been dealing with things when he should, or getting the appropriate signatures all in one go. My mother is quietly seething, as she'd offered to take it all on, but my uncle insisted.

Tsk. Family.