h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Yes, I've been baking. That is not a good sign at all. I have loaves 13 and 15 in the oven right now and am feeling the manic urge to make more. There's something about making bread that is so wonderful and soothing. Anyway, day started at three o'clock this morning. I finally went to sleep around then and woke up at five to walk and feed the darlings. My ride picked me up at six o'clock and hauled me to an instrumental practice which I was invited to. Everything is going lovely and out comes the third piece. Forty-eight measures of upbeats. I can not read music and can only play multiple measures of upbeats by doing this 'highly unprofessional' little hoppy dance and concentrating extremely hard. I ask to take second part because it has rests and am told no. I can handle this. I do my little hoppy dance and am told to stop. Fine. I get through measures one, two, three, and four before some stupid trumpet decides to be a fraction of a second off. That in turn screws me up and I stop playing. The conductor finally agrees to let me pass off my first part because I truly can't play the upbeats, and life is grand. Well, it was grand until he decided that the fellow playing second didn't have the ideal tone for the part. The guy sounds like a horn and is told that his tone sucks. That made me angry because the guy has a beautiful tone. I am forced to play first part with forty-eight measures of upbeats without hopping and fail miserably about half way through. The conductor then proceeds to chew me out and ask why I even came if I am so incompetent that I can't play upbeats. I told him that I had been invited by the director, and, since I was obviously not wanted, I should leave and allow the other better-quality musicians good practice time without having me encumbering their growth. So, I pack up, drop my music on the podium, shake the stunned conductor's hand, shake the stunned director's hand, and apologize to the group for inhibiting their performance practice. I get home at around nine-ish and take a shower and putter about the house. About 10:30, I get a call from someone that I haven't seen in seven years. Perfect timing, as I'm having extreme guilt issues concerning an event that happened about...hm, seven years ago. I have a conversation with this person and proceed to be blamed for everything that happened those...hm, seven years ago. There's something about getting told that you have screwed up at least five of your former friends' lives that really does something to you. This girl tries to set up a meeting with me so that we can finally discuss what actually happened and I refuse. I hang up and cried for two hours straight and am feeling much better. Now that I am feeling better, I am baking bread and wishing I had large teeth. Very large teeth.

I can only say one thing on the subject of long lost friends. That is that almost anyone who has gorn out of my life has had something horrible happen to them I have evidence for this as well. Its weird, scary, and when I tell someone they say its a cowinceadance. This doesn't make me feel better since 2 of them are dead.

Yup. Let's see. One is missing a nose and is in a mental institution, another is completely...loose, another is a multiple-rape victim, one is dead, and another is calling me hopped up on speed.

At least this is not all your friends from previous years. Some of them where just in the same class. tHe guy who used t o sit next to me got run over and died, thats just weird because in the 2 years I sat next to him I never spoke to him more than "howdya go in that test".

All my mates have disappeared off to University in Leeds which is somewhere around 80 miles away from Birmingham. I only see them in breaks. Strangely enough they're 3 school years behind me - me being 23 and they being on average 19. I never had friends in my own year group not being a particularly popular entity due to my rather 'arcane' interests, I was considered far too geeky to be worthy of inclusion in the in-crowd and was duly ostracised. I don't resent it, in fact I had no interest in their shallow group mentality so I didn't lose anything. *Shrugs* Most of them are pregnant now from what I hear or have similarly wasted their academic endeavours, whilst I'm here doing what I intended to do in the beginning. Long may they rot.

On the subject of cooking I'l just say I can't - however, I can do most DIY tasks (tiling, shelving, wallpapering, painting...), I can strip down car engines and re-assemble them in the right order and build computers but I can't cook. Oh well.

On with the day I say! On with the day...

Oh, I've just been commissioned to write a monthly article for Classic Cars Mag on my ongoing Mini restoration project. Upshot, I get free or reduced parts for the price of a review!

I think its time I did this




*colapse*

*Takes a bow*



'Normal' is not a word ppl associate with me....

Is he swanning? Is he swanning? It's an attack of the vapours! But, Scarlett, it's no trouble, love... Sorry, darakat, it was needed.

Normal? Never! Tell me how your article comes out. That one should be fun for you!

How can people you knew 7 years ago blame you for messing up their lives? You must've been 9 or 10 or something.

I know a girl with large teeth, she wishes she didn't have large teeth. Its making her desperate to the point where she's becoming bitter and turning into a wannabe slut. She'd probably swap teeth with you.

I was nine or ten or something. People are stupid and she's been hopped up on speed so long she can't think straight.

Well, the more I consider that, the less I like it. I have a very small mouth and the teeth I have had difficulty fitting in. Maybe I should just want pointy incisors?

I can get you a set of Vampire Fangs?

Oh, do. As long as they're manufactured from dead bats.

Dunno if I can do that... Dead bats are frightfully hard to come by at this time of year and bats of any kind are an endangered species over here - harming/disturbing them incurs a £5000 fine, same with picking Bluebells...

Ah, bluebells. Charming little flowers. Almost as pretty as dandelions.

I still can't believe that you've got laws against picking bluebells over there... Ah, well, bats aren't considered endangered over here... Bot I doubt if you could make those wee teeth fit neatly onto yours...

Bluebells have been picked to the point of extinction over here, hence the preservation law on them. I'd rather the law was in place as I'd hate to see another indigenous species wiped out by the encroachments and abuse of humanity - but that's just my pagan tendencies kicking in.

Too bad they don't *screamkick* enforce the laws about conservation of endangered plant species too well here. I can name thirty-five orchid species that have been hunted to extinction (in the wild) in the United States and it makes me want to SCREAM. Thank goodness dandelions are pissy and never die.

Hmmm... well, we've got laws to conserve endangered plant species over here, but bluebells aren't endangered over here...

Nor here.

I hate Dandelions. They reek to the rafters!

Gimme daisies, buttercups, clover & bluebells any day.