chenanceou: (Default)
I wish it was sexier than it actually is. It's just too hot and way too humid. I go to Whole Foods. I come back, grateful for the AC. I wait for the sun to go down so I can go out. Too overweight to shop at my usual shops. *sigh* Sephora loves me these days.

I hope London isn't as hot or as humid or as crowded.

I would comment on the Doctor Who finale, but what for? I know many of you are happy with it. I'm not. The not being happy about it is not keeping me up at night like the other one *cough*Buffy*cough* did though. It was cool to watch it with L. and T. I hadn't seen one in 3 years and the other in even more. L. made the best vegan cupcakes I ever had the pleasure to enjoy and was a flawless hostess - even when I scoffed at the notion of true love being a motivation for, well, anything. We agreed to disagree.

American television is keeping me entertained today - the AC is cranked up and I'm going to skip the cinema plans I had with the girls. Yes, I like IMAX as much as the next person, but I'm not about to leave my AC. Maybe for Hellboy or The Joker (AKA Batman). Not for Kung Fu Panda.

I would write more. But not even I am that interested in how sweaty I have been these last days.

Going to DC next week. The museum. The election isn't really making my heart beat faster. Maybe when the VP has been chosen. I was for HRC, but will be happy with BHO. I think of history and smile when I see his face around the city.

Oh, Family Guy is on the CW. See you...
chenanceou: (Default)
An old friend put me in contact with a nice guy who rents flats in London. I made a deposit. It's Southwark, but it has broadband, cable and a tube station close by. It's been a long time since I've been to England and I'm thrilled to go back. Hopefully not much has changed. I'm taking the girls with me and for half of the brood it will be their first time.

I had to restrict the trip to London and had to promise to not go around over exerting myself. I would have promised much and denied them little as long as I got the OK to leave. I guess it's my own fault - after Patagonia I got sick again because I was too me and not enough them.

I can't help thinking that if I get out of here I'll get better. I know it makes little sense to most people, but it makes perfect sense to me. I don't know many people who are like me, but the ones who are will understand the torture that is being in the same place day after day for years now. I don't care if I can't travel alone this time - as long as I can travel.

And one question... SPAM on LJ?! I've had people I don't know making stupid comments on my posts. After so long this neck of the woods gets trolled?

I'm staying in London for a fortnight and am dying over not making it to Dublin - even though Dublin is making it to London to stay with me. The friends from Dublin, not the whole town.

And next year I'm doing August in Edinburgh.

But for now I'm just over the moon. I'm packing again. Thank G'd.
chenanceou: (Default)
Paraty is undoubtedly a beautiful city. The solid colonial houses with high windows and frames painted in bright colours line cobblestone streets that have remained unchanged for the past 200 years. (Trust me, for Brazil 200 years is a very long time.) It’s a specially unique place full of peculiarities – about once a month, when the moon is full and the tide is high, the ocean floods the streets of the centre and for a short while the city becomes a tropical Venice, with makeshift bridges here and there for pedestrians. The locals like it that way.

Yes, I’m still here. Unfortunately, it won’t be for much longer. It’s time to go back home. I'll soon be off to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Next comes a business trip. Then I’ll take a deep breath (ie doctors) and prepare for the UK & Ireland trip. I was going to get a Britrail pass, but friends advised me to fly when necessary (Dublin - Edinburgh - London) and to rent a car when the need arises - promising it will be cheaper that way. I was sorely disappointed since I do enjoy trains and the rail system in the UK seems to pretty much go everywhere. I’m still planning on going to York by rail. So there.

Humph )


They are now getting ready for the religious Festa do Divino celebration that is going on here this week. There are white doves (The Holy Spirit) everywhere and, as they pass by my open windows on their way to the town square, I can see the locals all dressed in white carrying their blood red banners and hear the drums, horns and pandeiros warming up for the big parade.

I have to try and remember how to post photographs on my LJ so you can see it.

Just like I have and try to remember how to do LJ cut so I don’t end up with a way too long post.
chenanceou: (091)
Even though my presence around here has been scarce and I have missed so many birthdays you still found the time to wish me well. I'm very touched and grateful for the e-mails & such. Thank you - it means more than you'll know. My favourite present has to be the young'un's very successful first foray into baking.

My least favourite present? An earthquake. Fine, it was a moderate tremor and it lasted all of three seconds, but damn it - one of the reasons I choose to live in Brazil is because it's supposed to be as natural disaster free as you can get.

It's all quite chaotic for me.

The world needs to stop so I can breathe. Dengue fever epidemic, loved ones in hospitals 6,595 miles away, bathroom plumbing exploding and flooding, too much violence in my neighbourhood and now, to give it some kink, a bloody earthquake.

All I do is worry and very little else. I tell myself it could be worse. But fuck a duck, it could also be much better.

I think it's time for me to go back to therapy.

Oh, I found out I have spent the last 20 + years mispronouncing Mr. Pepys name. Pips? Are you serious?

Fuck me and flip me over because I'm done.

chenanceou: (Default)
Got home from the glaciers and snow in summer to end up in the hospital for three days and another two weeks stuck in bed at home (my convalescence made easier by the lovely [livejournal.com profile] txvoodoo). Now that I'm supposed to be better, I'm off to Paraty (waves at [livejournal.com profile] paratti) for a fortnight. No electricity on the island but for a lonely generator. Should be interesting. Those of you who have known me for a while, may remember what happened the last time I was unplugged and to what lengths I went to gain access to the net. I'm older and wiser, so hopefully it will be easier this time around and there will be no wet Chen rowing in the middle of the night in search of a modem.

The Doctor )

It really looks like I will be in the UK this summer - G'd willing. Ireland first though. I have friends there and the promise of much needed fun - and I love how my accent changes after a week of the Irish. Hopefully I'll came back by New York and finally see [livejournal.com profile] rusty_halo again.
chenanceou: (Default)
It's a weird sight to see snow falling in summer, but that's the reason I travel - to see unexpected things I can't see looking out of my window. It was the first snow of Ushuaia, AKA the end of the world, and the cold relented a bit. Being out on boats, going from island to island, has exposed me to more of the elements I would have liked, but it has made me develop a very deep relationship based on gratitude and appreciation with my parka.  I have stamped my passport with the end of the world stamp to prove I have been there (there's a bust of a historical personage at the end of the world... You'll never guess who it is.)
Tea is really good at Gaiman. Not much there other than tea houses and people who are quite proud of their Welsh background. Very proud.
The glaciers are spetacular, but melting. In less than half an hour I saw four huge pieces dettach and plunge into the turquoise waters of the lake. 
My transport is here and I have to go see more ice.
Love
chenanceou: (Default)
Have I got news for you.

Heart-Shaped Box: A Novel arrived on my "to read" pile by way of a recommendation made by Neil Gaiman to which Mitch Benn promptly acquiesce (apparently he yields to Mr. Gaiman's judgement in most matters). Mr. Benn then proceeded to review the book in his podcast to which I listened to and thought that yes, the book did indeed have a killer premise. A ghost up for sale in the Internet? The goth in me had to give it a go. Bought it and now I'm saving it for the trip.

Yes, you read it right. Trip. * cartwheels *

Yours truly is getting ready to go on her first foray abroad after so many effing years (is it really true that LJ has gone PG? No cursing? At all?). I'm sticking close to home because I'm basically chicken. The gypsy in me is ticked I could ever become this unadventurous, but I'm appeasing the wench by going to the end of the world. The end of my world at least. Curiously enough I'm going to be in Gaiman. Well, not only there. I'm actually going to stop at the Welsh settlement of Gaiman on my way from Trelew. For tea. Then it's off to the penguins and glaciers with it all ending at Ushuaia - the very tip of South America. When they stamp your passport there it says End of the World. Laugh if you must, but I find that inordinately cool.

The United Kingdom should be next and I'm thinking of staying on for a bit of the Fringe this year. I blame Blackadder and The Goons for my love of Brit (& Irish) humour. And, of course, the incomparable Stephen Fry and the now sexiest man alive, Hugh Laurie. I know some people don't like stand-up, but if I could do a show a day, I would. We just don't have those here and the thought of being able to choose which show to go to boggles my mind.

I'll have to intercalate the trips with coming back home for check ups and, well, family. I do have one, as you know. The deal I have tentatively made is for every 4 months at home, I get a fortnight off. * cartwheels *

Last thing - I got curious and did this MeMe so I could see the ones from other people (that means you). I find the disparity in our interests fascinating and quite revealing of our natures. The Metal Head who presses flowers and the Nana who collects erotica can't be as atypical as you think.

Copy and paste Your Interests from your profile page:

alan moore, art, bbc 7, big bands, books, brasil, brassai, buffy the vampire slayer, cbldf, chopin, cole porter, comics, common rotation, crime literature, cross stitch, dave mckean, doctor who, eddie izzard, embroidery, ethics, firenze, freedom of speech, gardening, gay rights, george & ira gershwin, goons, heirloom vegetables, hellboy, history, horticulture, hugh laurie, human rights, irving penn, italian opera, literature, museums, neil gaiman, never mind the buzzcocks, old movies, photography, politics, pushing daisies, qi, queen, radio 4, socialism, soup, stand-up, stephen fry, the sims 2, thrillers, travel, tudor england, writing.
chenanceou: (Default)
Boris Johnson reminds me of Edgar Alabaster, the brother in Angels and Insects played by Douglas Henshall. Too obscure a reference? Think Giovanni in 'Tis Pity She's A Whore, but much baser. I'm not a specialist in Brit politics, but I do love London - doesn't it deserve better?

Neil Gaiman at the Spike awards made my young one happy. Neil Gaiman being kissed by Jonathan Ross at ComicCon made her confused. She's a fan and very open minded (she's my daughter) so the question wasn't why he was being kissed by a man. No, the question was why by Jonathan Ross - she thinks Mr. Gaiman could do better.

Pushing Daisies still delights. Not so hot for Olive and her singing, but I can tolerate it for the sets alone. [livejournal.com profile] txvoodoo I thank you for being such a cool enabler.

December will be a sink or swim month for me. I'm going to a clinic with the idea of getting stronger so I can pack my bags and go around the world. Yes, the world. After two years stuck here I'm going to visit every person who will have me over. Since, mercifully, I do know quite a few people, I'm hoping my travels take me around the world. Including China *waves at Serena*. So fingers crossed.

Christmas is almost here. Again. If you have moved since last year, or would just like to receive a nice non-denominational card from Brazil, send me your snail mail address. It will be my pleasure.

A Dutch biologist "discovered" a new kind of peccary (looks like a pig) in Brazil. It takes a gringo to come here and discover something the natives had been eating for as long as anybody can remember. I'm told it doesn't taste like chicken.

Nerds are in. You live long enough and suddenly the kids are asking where you got your official Star Trek t-shirt and shiny Academy button. Who would have thunk owning a Dalek would make me the cool mom?
chenanceou: (091)
No, not me. The show. I have to say I like it very much.
I'm still doing what sick people do, only trying to do it better (less cry baby, more stoic) than I had been doing before. I can read for longer now (big YAY) and I'm watching some shows. Looking for the new season of Dexter, hoping the Doctor will return soon and yes, did I mention the new show Pushing Daisies? The nod to Wonderfalls in the pilot made this fan happy.

I thought I'd say hello. Just to let you know I'm 1) alive, 2) not completely out of things and 3) thinking of you.
chenanceou: (043)
I don't know whether this will work or not, but I was sent this and found it funny. Plus you get to see Amy Winehouse with Alan Carr in more than one compromising position.

Old Bones

Jul. 3rd, 2007 03:48 am
chenanceou: (Default)

Almost 4 AM and I can't sleep. Acupuncture in the early AM and then a spot of breakfast. I do have a nice lunch date to go over some paintings and the use of light by Rembrandt. Which means that this is one of my eventful days.

I've been listening to a lot of radio. Still. BBC 7 has Fatherland this week and Absolute Power to keep me entertained. I got a bunch of Doctor Who episodes I'll sit down and watch eventually - though I already know I'll have to get used to even more changes. All this may be par for the course for the seasoned fans, but for a novice like me it's quite daunting. I'll have to persevere. (Could somebody tell me how long is this Doctor's contract? Please? I'm starting to get fond of him.) Oh, I got sent a hilarious video of Captain Jack Barrowman on Never Mind the Buzzcocks. If you call yourself a fan, take a look (I got the link at You Tube for you).

I'm afraid there's nothing else to say. Laura made me realize I hadn't said hello in a while, so hello it is. I'm still stuck here. Will be for some time. No flying in the sky. One day they tell me. Easy for them, becoming impossible to hear it again for me.

Be well.

chenanceou: (016)
... how there are no fandoms without the usual shipwrecks.


My three peeves that originated from trying the waters of a fandom with the tip of my toes.

1 There was the auction at FG. I bid and won a drawing by an artist present. I was really happy when I was told that instead of a sketch done then and there, if I could wait, I would get a painting. Again, I was really happy. That was November 2004. After an e-mail dated January 2005 I had no more news. My last e-mail tentatively inquiring about it went unanswered.

2 My hard cover, deluxe and autographed Sandman edition is somewhere in San Francisco. Why? Because somebody offered to have it signed by the illustrator and I said
"That would be great! But how do I get it back?"
To which the person replied... "Don't worry, I'll ship it to you. It's the least I can do after you sent me all those special editions in Portuguese."
disclaimer: paraphrasing
That was October 2005. All e-mails and messages asking for that Sandman back? Unanswered.

3 Lastly, there was the mitzvah (good deed for you non Yiddish). I offered to share my hotel room with somebody who didn't have a place to stay. Everything was fine until I mentioned I could never live in an isolated house in the country and that I was a city girl. I was yelled at and witnessed a melt down that made me painfully aware that I was all alone in the car of the person banging fists on steering wheel while yelling at me. Nothing like a freak out to remind you that just because two people share interests that doesn't eliminate the possibility that one of them could be unstable. I cut my trip short and learnt that even smart people make the same mistake twice (Baltimore, July of 2002).

Though I have to say that seeing [livejournal.com profile] coraline & [livejournal.com profile] rusty_halo in New York was great. I even got to be treated in a rude condescending manner by a bona fide CBGB employee (And the band playing there was told to keep it down because there was a reading going on upstairs. How very post punk.) I got to see the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] redeem147 in Toronto and hear her serenade me. In front of an audience. Did I mention she sang my song? I'm smiling right now. I got a ton of books signed. Got called stalker in a fun way (because stalking can be fun - haha fun, not weird fun). Tried to (and I think I did get to) understand that fandom a bit. Wrote an article that didn't suck, but that - after all my work - wasn't used. I was lucky I got paid anyway, but it did end up being the last thing I would write before getting sick, sick.

I wonder if I'll ever get the Sandman back or get the drawing (I've been told that people wait for years to get art from illustrators - so there's hope.).

=#=


That trip, across America and into Canada, was the last meandering trip I took. It's been too long and the gypsy in me is bitter and ready to be somewhere - somewhere other than here. I'm afraid that (mostly due to that) I've gotten quite nasty this last year. Bovine and canine epithets have been bestowed upon me on more than one occasion. In my defence, I have to say that some of those spirited exchanges took place in traffic. It's just that I don't belong in one place - I belong everywhere. These vagabond shoes are ready to stray, dude. Get me out of here!

chenanceou: (027)
The title. Yes. It has less to do with G'd's burning bush up in Mount Horeb (You know the one. It's the Sign that will get Moses to go back to Pharaoh with the famous line "Let my people go...") than with Bonfire Night and the burning of effigies.

Bush arrives tomorrow and the city will live under a state of siege for the (mercifully) short time he's here. No air traffic, closed off streets, guns everywhere (including the lovely idea of snipers on top of buildings). São Paulo is a big city that already suffers daily from absurdly heavy traffic on normal days. Close off a couple of its main roads and what you have is pure unadulterated chaos. All of this for what? Our ethanol it seems.

I'll spare both of us the boring long dissertation on the evil of what is in store for my country and its workers if this supposed deal goes through. I'm sure when you read how Brazil has vast tracks of land suited for plantation you will substitute vast tracks of land for the more accurate destructed forestland (to save time and work clearing land they set fire to the whole thing). I'm also sure that when you hear how this will create jobs and bring economic growth, you'll know it means near slave conditions for the workers and a lot of money in the pockets of a very few people. But I beg your pardon, I had said I'd spare us from the dullness of economic exploitation.

Well, we're all bracing ourselves for the next two days. Children will be kept from school and the people who can, will either work from home or not work at all in order to avoid this quite inopportune visit. Unfortunately, I'm not healthy enough to join the protesters with their banners (though Yankees go home! seems a bit trite at this point.) and so will be one of many silent protesters.

Were we to have Bonfire Night though, I'd drag my beaten down, broken carcass down to the street and burn effigies with glee. Yes! The title.
chenanceou: (003)
...Joy to you and me. That Jeremiah...

I'm not going to take much of your time. I feel less than inspired and this will have to be posted by one of the girls since I have no internet in the room and I am, at the moment, unable to make the trip to the only 24h plugged-in computer down at the atrium (and, of course, all the way in the A building).

I wanted to, first, say hello to everybody. Then to tell [livejournal.com profile] hesadevil that I couldn't find her snail mail address. She collects postcards and, believe it or not, they have their own here at this place. I thought it would make a funny "Happy Holiday!" card. The other thing I wanted to do was to wish everybody Great Holidays and a great 2007. I was not amused by 2006, but have high hopes that 2007 will bring an end to glow in the dark yellow hospital bracelets that refuse to entertain me by actually glowing in the dark.

Take care of yourselves and of your loved ones. Don't wear too much lipstick, but a little always makes your face cheery. No, not you [livejournal.com profile] hico. You don't need lipstick. I hope you all get plenty of good food, good drink and good (insert anything that makes you happy because I have to keep this PG for the girls). I think often of you and have some of your CD presents to keep me company.

That's pretty much it, really. It's not much in terms of quality or quantity. I would apologize, but I'm quite sure that brevity, when coming from me, is a refreshing surprise.
chenanceou: (003)
In earnest I give to you a piece of advice : Don't go Bunburying with people who Bunbury themselves.

Truth is... that being indisposed and handicapped for so long [even if the word holds a gravitas that by no means applies to my case] has made me repetitive with my excuses. I'm not one of those silent, strong, stiff upper lippy people. I'm one of those "Why in the @#$% me?!" belligerent with fist shaking at the firmament, dripping with caustic mordancy bores. I, centre of all universes, kept letting people know I was too sick to move [or go to dinner, attend an auction, a family lunch, a couple of baptisms, one bar mitzvah, start a war in a third world country, elect a new president...].

A sweet and perverse friend, with a very proper sense of humour, sent me a garland of flowers. It arrived yesterday morning. A funerary garland. You know the kind, with all the white carnations and a sash with gold paper letters glued across it? It [the sash] said - Far from our eyes, but not from our hearts [literal translation, but crystal in its significance].

Deserved? I'm afraid so. It has been months. My eyes will always be an issue in some shape or form and I should just get on with it. If the days of reading a book in one sitting are gone and done with, c'est la vie - there's the BBC and audiobooks. If there are people out there with perfect eyesight who don't write, don't own books other than those pretty things on top of coffee tables bought to match the chintz and who don't paint - life was never meant to be fair. Before I end up in a barrel, grumbling about people blocking my sunlight, I'm going to make an effort to rejoin the world.

I'll go Bunburying no more.
chenanceou: (073)
I can't sleep, but I'm pretty sure you are all soundly so. I got things to do this next week that I'm not looking forward to - the sort of things that poke you, needle you and then let you know how healthy you are independently of how you actually feel. Hence the wakefulness even at this early hour.

That's not why I'm here. I'm here because I got an e-mail from BAPS, as I assume some of you did, announcing its impeding demise. I have to be honest - I hadn't given thought to that chunk of past in a long time. Yet, looking at that e-mail, it hit me. BAPS meant so much to me and, even in hindsight and the [oh, so petty] Hellmouth episode, I still am grateful to the world it propelled me into in a way that doesn't seem understandable to people who aren't us.

I had been unconventional for quite some time. Where I come from, I was the weirdo [I blame Harlan Ellison, but that's another story] girl wearing black and shunning the sun in a world known for its tiny bikinis and sun-fried skins. The way I looked didn't fit with who I was and none of that belonged in the universe of pastel skirts and Mary Janes. Now I know that here and there people like me recognize others and feel less lonely. I, unfortunately, grew up very insulated from the possibility of meeting a lot of people who are us. One makes do with masks. One becomes very adroit in the juggling of perfect smiles. You cope.

Then BtVS comes into my life and rapidly becomes a bit of an obsession [understatement 'r' us]. I was still floating all alone with it all when I found BAPS. Bloody Hell, I found people who, even though were individuals with their own kinks, shared something I could understand. I was no longer the freak and I was hooked. Where else could you have hour long debates on soul schmoul, redemption, evil and good [other than at a seminary that is]? Where else would knowledge of arcane poetry help you decipher a dire portent? It was a melody from a symphony by Strauss, a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeare's sonnet - even bloody Mickey Mouse.

I could go on about how all humans have the need to belong - the whole pack mentality that applies to even the punkest of us - but I'm not going to waste anybody's time.

This is basically to say that BAPS had and has a role in my life, a very positive role - a very empowering role [no joke] and that it feels strange [in a door closing, can't go back way] to think it will no longer be. I know, I know - I haven't posted. It doesn't matter. I knew it was there.
chenanceou: (003)
It's quite late here. Around three in the morning, to be precise. I should be asleep, but am not and have no plans of going to bed any time soon. In the golden days, I'd read a book. I still have various volumes piled on a desk by my bed for that purpose. They are books of short stories, or of non-fiction full of funny, amusing and/or astonishing facts that can be read while one is surrendering. These, by the way, are my favourites, since their reading seems to encourage some truly stupendous dreams. At the present I can see a volume of famous last words, two on etymology, my old book on notorious poisoners and Chambers' 1869 The Book of Days. I used to have an edition of Pepys's Diaries, but it failed to carry its duty to put me to sleep one too many times and is now back on the shelf.

I had listened to Timothy West play Rumpole earlier and then to a couple of Teahouse stories [BBC Radio] before it was time to watch The Office. [I know I should make some loud noises after what the Americans did to Coupling, but I really do like the American version. I suspect that watching the show due to a repulsive fascination for Dwight is not very original, but then there's the even less original cheering for Jim. I'm sheep, I suppose.] After The Office it was off to bed. Except, like I mentioned before, I didn't manage to sleep. Tossed and turned plenty though.

The Doctor )

Writing has made me tired. Have a brilliant Monday - temperate and agreeable. Suitable for watching hippos bathe and auspicious for tasseomancy.

It's Leonardo, Miss. Vinci is where he was from.
- 10 year old girl.
chenanceou: (Default)
How can you tell you are getting on in years? When all your piece of news read like symptoms. My grandmother was right [as usual] when she said that if you have your health, you make a far more interesting person. [The old lady had a low tolerance for her friends' conversations that consisted of a long list of ailments and little else.]

So. All I'll say is that now I have: an ulcer, glasses with thick black frames that are on 24/7 and a titanic distaste for my pill box's strident alarm. But - I'm not expected to wear that charming hospital gown for another month. Very thankful for small favours.

Still homeless and will remain so for another... three months?

Doctor Who started showing here. So did The Office [USA]. Television is no longer a big part of my life. Radio, more precisely the BBC, is now a daily. I wish I could read as much as I used to, but I'm up to 3-4 pages now and life is good.
chenanceou: (003)
"Mr. West, not every situation requires your patented approach of shoot first, shoot later, shoot some more and then when everybody's dead try to ask a question or two."

It's not from a very good film, though I confess to being quite partial to the charms of Mr. Smith, Mr. Kline, Ms. Hayek and even Mr. Branagh on occasion [he's capable of more than narcissistic Shakespeare - How to Kill Your Neighbour's Dog comes to mind]. And none of this has anything to do with what I wanted to say.

It's been quite a week south of the equator and even though things [murders, riots, bus burning] have decreased and we are back to just being mugged and the occasional blockade, what led to the eruption that stopped the city and caught authorities with their pants down is still very much alive. I'm not going to discuss the situation here because, frankly, I doubt anybody actually wants to be informed of the subtleties of Brazil's police/criminal symbiosis and writing this much has worn me down. The point is - the quote fits. Painfully and tragically so.

I was lucky because during the really horrid part of it all my microcosm and I were blissfully clueless. I was sedated, the family too preoccupied with little old me to watch the news or go anywhere. Blessing, meet disguise.

I started writing this days ago and... rats and tarts... it's still boringly uncomfortable to write.

Laura, I heard a couple of episodes of Veronica Mars and had them described to me. Is this the same show from last season? Maybe it's me. BTW, Common Rotation has been on my iPod during the whole ordeal [their voices are now linked with some really weird under sedation memories]. Thank you so much for sending the songs to me. I still haven't found the CDs - they are probably a casualty of too many trips and too many suitcases.

Colleen, everything went fine and I'll be dropping the Xander patch soon. I was getting used to the stares [the patch had an open eye painted on it - courtesy of the oldest and her sense of humour], but will be glad to be rid of it. One can only take so many [really lame] pirate jokes.

Oh, no snail mail. I'm basically homeless for a while. Could be a long while. The Homeless Cyclops TM. I can't decide whether the title would yield a children book or a really depressing novella with one of those realistic endings [you know, all ends dangling in the air and nobody really happy at all?] - whatever it is, it will have to be written longhand.

I miss LJ and the mini dramas, discussions, opinions... This is a lame attempt to say I think about you often, I talk about you and wonder how you are doing in all the far corners of the world you call your own. I'm thinking whether it's boat season for [livejournal.com profile] hesadevil again, how goes it with [livejournal.com profile] ljs book, [livejournal.com profile] txvoodoo's informative entries, [livejournal.com profile] paratti's Doctor reviews and [argh] my abandoned translation of [livejournal.com profile] officialgaiman [I haven't read Mr.Gaiman's journal in months!]... Anyway, imagine violins playing - yes, I miss you quite so.

I also missed so many birthdays I'm ashamed to show my face. I am in time to wish the oh, so huggable[livejournal.com profile] hico a very happy birthday [and on the right day]! I do miss doing my silly animated .gifs, but I can manage this:

Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday dear [livejournal.com profile] hico, happy birthday to yoooooooouuuuu... And many moooooooore...
chenanceou: (002)
... sometimes doesn't add up to out of mind. Thank you for remembering, the happy birthdays, the e-mails, the cards, balloons and roses [yes, that's you [livejournal.com profile] hico]. It's still uncomfortable for me to sit at the computer and read, but not impossible [should still be a while, but at least there's the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel].

I have to say that I find it unfair, in a self-centred way, that of all that could go wrong - it had to be my eyes. I read, draw, write, paint, photograph, embroider... I'm not much without the full use of them. And I'm sure now that audio books are just not the same [though I have to say that the Brother Cadfaels, with Derek Jacobi, were quite good].

Once again thank you for the good wishes - it does help knowing one hasn't been forgotten.

Oh, and I didn't forget [livejournal.com profile] cindermom's birthday - but am late in wishing it and for that, sorry. Happy Birthday Cin!

To end this ditty - what happens when you have to sport an eye patch?

People keep telling you pirate jokes )

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Chenanceou

December 2011

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