Life is f...

Life is full of little surprises *g*Charlotte was making biscuits (half term and a break from clearing up the Pit). Turned her back for ten seconds, and one chicken breast out of 3 thawing out disappeared between small fangs. Growling sounds from underneath the hall sideboard gave him away - he's got a pathetic miaouw for a big lad, but growls like a lion. The good fight was fought, so tonight there will be 2 chicken breasts for 3 people, and 3 out of 4 cats will get the chewed one. Simba the Thief, much as I love him, is in the doghouse. Cathouse. Well, in trouble. Been looking at the HTML editor's 'table feature' today. Read the instructions twice. Decided to save that one for another day *g*. However, after being stuck in a corner for 3 days, I now have some highly-cooperative muses murmuring helpful suggestions about it being time they got to play.Hehehehe. Work (what's that?)going swimmingly. Enough to pay the bills, not too much to stop play. Chris, of course, is complaining. I'm ignoring him apart from telling him that HTML skills are a useful asset for the future. Of *course* that's why I did it *g*. Nothing to do with an urge to play with a new toy of my very own and stick my various stories in one place. Nononono.

Jen just m...

Jen just mailed you - sorry only just looked at LJ and sorry to contact this way but so sorry to hear your Mum had been ill. Give her a big hug from me and all the cats and tell her to come back and give them more TLC soon!Hectic day. Work is coming in thick and fast but not complaining. Still bouncy (and still v. short of sleep and WISH this bloody jet lag would go once and for all).Chris got himself a Russian client for consulting work - a startup here in Neuchâtel yet again. Hauled out a few bits of polite conversation then ran back to the office deciding I definitely need some practice. Lovely guy - very dramatic, Russian-type but highly amenable too. Note to self: do not put ginger into guacamole (made that last night before I realised what Jen was up to and God, I love that bit) instead of garlic *sigh*. Not a brilliant taste experience but the jars in the fridge look similar. Chris deemed it 'unusual'. The cats loved it. Uh-huh. New trend, maybe. *yawn* must go programme the video.

Geez I feel...

Geez I feel good considering I'm running on no sleep. But work is going WELL. Diet is going WELL. Pictures of SLC have mostly come out in focus despite two batteries succumbing to the sub-zero temperatures. And I'm sitting here with white wine feeling at peace with the world. Invoices done, ends have been met and Chris is being lovely (he *missed* me and *said so* - YAY!). Even been bouncing ideas around with Di for a Pros story, got an idea running around for some original fic, and have countless NP bunnies. Just have to write 'em, I suppose. Everything comes with time. No worries. I love writing and always have and always will. Tomorrow I hit the sound studios, where my dulcet tones will speak a story book (wot I wrote) about crappy, Hong-Kong-made pseudo-Swiss watches and that will be made into a (probably equally crappy) syrupy commericial for the Asian market. Wonder if they can understand Yorkshire accents? Hehehehe. Who cares, they're paying me stacks of $$$ for it :)I think I'm fading though. Must get some sleep some time *g* And food. Liquid supper is probably a bad idea. Flame letters. Got No. 3 and laughed. My ISP didn't and is being terribly Swiss and sweet and devastatingly efficient. Very interesting. I really can't get het up about cowards, though, so won't take it further unless somebody else gets on the receiving end of something similar, at which point I might. Or might not. Am zen. Could be the wine or the jet lag, but hey it's NICE.

WARNING WARNING...

WARNING WARNING WARNINGWrote a private post this morning which turned up on Lou's friends page. Rushed to LJ and *had* marked it 'private' but there's a glitch somewhere (me, LJ or Lou). No idea if everybody got it, or if everybody's got LOTS of my private stuff. GOd this is awful.Going to write to LJ and ask if/when/how it can happen. For what it's worth, I don't THINK I've had anybody's private stuff.Going to carry on dying somewhere now. Praying that only Lou got it. Guess who won't be making any more private posts on that.

Hm. Suitably ...

Hm. Suitably equipped in IOC grey jacket/trousers/ skirt with... T-shirts underneath. I just hope they've got the heating on. Rumour has it we get roll-neck sweaters 'sometime before we go'. And a brown parka when we get there (my Mum said brown and grey doesn't go, but she obviously never told the IOC that). Hit MediaMarkt and went mad. 3 DVDs - they'd nearly sold out and didn't have the one with 'the Light' or 'The First Ones' which I'd been hoping for. Hugely indulgent, though.Charlotte's off school as her cold's turned awful, poor kid, and she's definitely handed something on to me. Scratchy throat, headache, wobbly everything. Bleh. Sleep would be useful (and make a change). Thought the drive back would never end. Sinned hugely. Just ate 3 Oreos that were yelling at me from the cupboard. This is BAD. Has to stop. Forthwith. Bad enough wearing uniforms with Italian sizes and finding I'm a massive... 52. Thank God I didn't have to try stuff on a couple of months ago.Definitely need sleep. Junk food would be nice, but it's Monday, i.e. Switzerland's closed, or rather the pizza delivery places anyway.

Yeah!

Oh, this could be worse, really. Much worse. The environment is huge, sure, but the meetings and translation team are a wonderful bunch of total eccentrics (OK, so I fit right in there...). It'll probably take me the whole week to get my bearings as the buildings are all odd-shaped and around a central sort of round bit. As I don't know my right from my left, it can get extremely confusing. In fact (shhhh) I shimmied down to the Underground this morning feeling very pleased and competent and was two stops in the wrong direction before I realised. Hmmm.Have very vague memories of Austria in general - 20 years since I was in Vienna. They're still obsessed with huge desserts (been good so far), and cream in everything (also good, given my expresso-obsession). And noodles and dumplings and wine by the quarter litre (been less good re. the latter but only in the evenings!).With a bit of luck, will be off soon to do a bit of frozen tourist stuff - only 4 pm!

Flu prevention, Swiss fashion

Whilst picking up bras, and having been scared silly about the idea of catching something horrible before I go away (or during), I dropped into the pharmacy to get a few supplies - on the assumption that if I'm equipped, it may not happen. We have new laws about medication, which I'd never really noticed. However:a) what I always took for chesty coughs (capsules, brilliantly effective) have suddenly become 'prescription only'. My pharmacist, who I've known for years, still handed them over, with a muttered comment on the law being an ass. b) what I always took for fever, flu-like symptoms (and gave Leah in Nottingham to great effect), has also changed status. You can buy the 500 mg packets over the counter, but not the 1000 mg ones (and you *need* 1000 mg). Friendly pharmacist again took pity on me, as I pointed out that taking 2 x 500 mg sachets isn't rocket science.c) flu jabs - posters recommend them right left and centre, particularly for asthmatics, which I am. So, I thought, I'll get one. Fine. Except you have to make an appointment with your GP (for mine, you have to be nearly dead to get one within 10 days, and even). No telephone request, you have to be there in person to get a prescription for a flu vaccine. Then you have to go to the pharmacy and buy it. Then you have to get a second appointment with the GP to give it to you. According to the paper the other day, the world of Swiss medicine is wondering why people don't *get* the damn vaccine. I'm sure a lot of us who don't have lots of spare time could answer that.Result: I now have two little phials of this year's anti-flu homeopathic granules to take, which according to friendly pharmacist are just as effective. Cost: about £4. Cost of 2 doctors' appointments and flu jab: at least £60, of which I'd pay the first 10% (and then only *after* my medical bills per year exceed £400, which they never do 'cos I'm rarely ill).Sliding into rant mode here, but as a family we pay over £1,000 every three months for (not very comprehensive and only slightly better than the compulsory minimum) medical insurance. The price increases hugely every year. Why? The more people pay, the more (some of them) tend to go to the doctor, too, to get their money's worth. Meaning the more the insurance companies have to pay out, meaning the insurance goes up and up and up. Bloody ridiculous. Switzerland's economy is a bloody mess overall, in fact, but I'm not going to rant any more. Sam and beaches are awaiting.

Aaarghhhh

Got e-mail from IOC by return saying 'yes, we're interested. Send CV asap'. Did short CV and sent it before I thought better of it, reminding the guy we're away as of next weekend.Do I want this? Do I want the nerves all week before I go on holiday? I wish I knew.As I just told Di, I don't even want to work. I want to be a (rich) slob and write and go swimming and do gardening and make patchwork. Neither do I know if I can cope with having a boss again, particularly one who's sweet but not terribly competent. However, said potential boss (IOC head of translation) is also one of my references for the *** job (he did offer...).However, if the money's good and there's a pension fund, I might be able to keep my mouth shut when required of me. It's gonna take a LOT of negotiation, though, even if I get that far. Ewwwwwwwwwww. What am I *doing*???

Wrapped up and knackered

Just finished a great many pages of minutes, slung them onto the server in Lyon (the one I can't play LJ and AIM on} and have sneaked out to wonderful Mecca of Internet freaks...The Hungarian police, bless 'em, in conjunction with some software company exhibiting at the Congress, have offered EIGHT free telephones and FIFTEEN TOTALLY FREE Internet equipped computers.And now, the night before I go home, I've finally managed to get more than five minutes to play. Nice. So have had long chat to Chris and Mum, looked at LJ, looked at mail, and feel sorta weird down here.Most of the delegates and others have gone to the opera. I HATE opera. Loathe it. Am also tired and was sick of endless people milling around with very VERY omnipresent security. Most unbelievable thing of all - nearest loos required x-ray of handbag and oneself like at airports. Yeah, I know it's necessary, but phew. Hungarian food is five-star. Average male attractiveness ratio higher than usual too. Budapest is totally stunning. Work was stressful, hectic, but had its moments.Am about to be chased out of here, I think, so maybe more ramblings tomorrow when I get home.

Pissed off in Budapest

Just seen motorcard of NINE police cars and motorcycles heralding arrival of our beloved Secretary General. Whooopeeeeee. Noisy buggers.Laptop's not working.... WAILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLWith all me notes, minutes from last time, references and I can't even write tonight.TOTALLY PISSED OFF about it. Interpol's tecchies have promised help tomorrow, and Chris is bringing his... but EVEN. There I was all ready to save Chrissypoo from a wet muddy moment and it won't load windows.Good news. Court stuff went well in that they need more financial info, but it won't be sorted until early next year AND looks like Chris will get off lightly.So all I need is Sam to work again and life would be quite rosy. Oh well.Going to try and boot it again, but at least the cybercafe here is cheap if nothing else. Grumble, grumble, grumble. How can Sam DO THIS TO ME (and where's the exclamation mark on a Hungarian keyboard? Don't they exclaim?This is weird. There really isn't oneYes there is. Lurking up top somewhere!

Why does my...

Why does my AIM icon have a little flashing mouse-like thing on it?Have tried 'blinking', 'mouse' and 'icon' in the help menu but am none the wiser.MOST curious. All answers on a postcard...

I wil...

I will never, ever put background on my pending files again. Never.Chris decided to do 9 estimates for me, called up my pending file and got a screen full of *eyeballs*. Couldn't read the text. And I in turn couldn't remember how I did it cos it didn't show up on my machine.Oh dear. I didn't even want to check my e-mail on a Friday evening. So he did.I don't WANT to do 9 jobs and 2,500 lines for a client. I want to WRITE.*sob*

Taken a un...

Taken a unilateral decision to go out for dinner, and He Who Shall Accompany Me ain't complaining :) Maybe some carbohydrates and alcohol will reach the part that neither Diet Coke (still warm) and coffee seem to be reaching. Last day of school. Charlotte's got a brilliant report and excellent marks, and is off to the year-end party with rather a lot of make-up on and - of course - the contact lenses. Probably going to incur paternal wrath if he sees the eye make-up, but with a bit of luck she'll have left before he gets in.I'm sure this is not good parenting, somehow. But heck, I was 14 once. She does have instructions to get the 11.15 pm bus and will be with friends. Meaning that by 11.29, when it's due in, I shall be getting antsy and waiting for the 'come and get me at the terminus' stop. Whatever Dinah says about Switzerland and repression and stuff, there's something to be said for buses that run on time... particularly when you're a parent :)In an ideal world, we wouldn't live a mile up a steep hill from the terminus. But then we wouldn't have the cowbells in the distance, would we? I *like* cowbells. They are *not* just for tourists.Nonononono. Not the time to start on another rant.

...

Warm Diet Coke his horrible. And the 2-litre bottles don't fit in the fridge. Charlotte's pinched the last Red Bull. Only one solution. Head for the coffee machine.

Blame Al ...

Blame Al for this. No, that's not entirely fair. Blame Al *partly* for this. Mostly, it's because of a really fascinating discussion on a writers-list about why people like (and hate) slash. Got me thinking and as I think better with fingers to keyboard, here goes.I like slash. Correction, well-written slash. I used to feel guilty about it, I suppose, having sworn it wasn't my thing. Probably stop and wonder sometimes why I write it even now but I refuse to be put off by people getting revolted or horrified.Tried to explain it to Elsa. Have had it rationalised by Elaine. Not sure which of the scientific and academic reasons I agree with, and it's not a question of being turned on by it either. Well - not only.Relationships fascinate me (hence the psycho-babble I write). Two extraordinarily attractive guys in a job where they have to trust each other totally - AND who are not blatantly heterosexual like some I could mention - could take the friendship further. Bisexuality - although it's not my personal scene - is a fact. You fall in love with people, and sometimes it's somebody of the same sex. This happens. Right?Oh, and the sex part. Written, graphic sex. I'm quite happy with slash-without-sex if that suits the tone and the story. However, I find beautifully written, hot sex between the two also has its place when I'm in the mood for it. Just as sex scenes between a man and a women can be astoundingly good. Now, this is me. I can understand people recoiling from it if it's not their scene. I tend to have the same reaction to various types of writing. The list includes: badly-written stories and failure to use a beta-reader to make it palatable; plot holes a mile wide; AU with particular reference to elves and rabbits; non-AU stories that are just so far-fetched and stupid I lose patience. And I'm not a very patient person and I use up most of my patience quotient on stupid clients.What I do *not* understand is when people decide what's good for me... or what sort of thing I should be writing. If I was getting paid for it, or if it was going to harm somebody, that would be different. But when I write slash it's clearly marked as such, protected from 14-year old eyes, and nobody forces them to read it. I'm an adult, I spend most of my life doing things for clients and family, and my hobby is for *me*. If others choose to share that's nice, too. If they don't, then fine. I value my friends, and don't base my appreciation of them on whether I like their fiction or they like mine. Sharing a passion for something, though, is great. I have this lingering suspicion that some people who get all hot and bothered by it are frightened of their own reactions - at least judging by what I've seen from various statements in several places. Once again, it's like a lot of other things. Nobody's putting a gun to their head, just like nobody - but NOBODY - is going to make me see Bodie and Doyle as two sweet, fluffy little rabbits. A little tolerance goes a long way. I can't see what other people see in many things: field hockey, pension funds and collecting china ducks comes to mind offhand but I'm sure there are many more. That's their affair. I can be a wine snob, but if people prefer diet coke and Irn Bru, that's their business *g*.I *love* writing. Slash included. That's *my* affair.End of rant, I think. Off to write something - either hot and steamy or less so. Dunno. Still reeling from Al's last one which I think is outstanding.

brenk

OK - I think I did it.Not that I'm trying to bury my head in the sand about the deadline looming or anything...