fudge it

yesterday evening niece #1 gave me a single scoubidou strand (the kind used to make the giant one in this picture). one of her friends from school has asked me to make a scoubidou for her.

me: but it's a single strand, i don't think you can make one with a single strand!
niece #1: argh! my friend is so stupid!
brother #1: oh very good, trying to earn cred by making scoubidous for kids now, are we?
me: listen you, i could have made fun of your golfing a long time ago. i mean, i'm not the one who needs an idiot's guide, am i?

i did manage to make a bracelet in the end, using a knot the dad had taught me ages ago. niece #1 was very impressed.

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monday afternoon

N sits kind of opposite my desk. only a couple of meters away, but still:

emailing because we both have headphones on innit

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friday afternoon conversation, i gathered some scoubidous. 4 random colours. then a red scoubidou on one side, and a blue on the other.

me: right. i'm going to make a DNA.
M: why don't you make a double helix?

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scoubidou feedback. woot.

J: Underneath a pile of forms I have found an envelope bearing your handwriting and containing the first scoubidou I have ever seen in real life, and what a scoubidou it is. Since arriving in the office, I have put it on my desk thinking 'I'll leave it there for a bit now' but then been unable to resist picking it up and holding it to the light SIX TIMES. That's an average of once every, er, few minutes (I can't do maths). Still can't figure out how you make them, the finish is really professional. But thank you very much, and I hope your hands are not permanently disfigured.

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go on, say ohmigod.

the mother was telling brother #5 off for not getting a job.

her: if you don't, i'll take you and brother #4 to pakistan and get you married off there.
him: if you do that, we'll run off to afghanistan and fight the holy war.

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'Keeping in touch with family is a big priority for you...'

o2 jumps on the quiz craze with this what's your mobile personality? ink blot test. says here i'm 'solid as a rock' because i saw practical, down-to-earth objects in the test, which is mad because i didn't see any knives or anything.

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go get yo' swerve on, fool.

so yeah, i went to the 3 website to find out whether the advert with the girl with the giant hands wasn't just a dream, and that i really did see it on tv. but all i found was this 'break off' game to make those tiny animals dance, innit.

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12, that's 12, blisters on my hands from making this 'un:

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at the canteen upstairs, mary has left to be replaced by a girl who wouldn't look out of place in say, maypole (it's where Darren and his girlfriend are from). anyway, S and me were sitting at a table watching skynews (apparently, some football bloke president reckons women's football needs updating, and they should start by wearing tighter shorts) when the new girl approaches:

her: do either of you two smoke?
me: er no.
s: no.
her: god, what is it with this place?
me: what do you mean?
her: i've asked everyone here and they all say they don't smoke!
me: well, this is the NHS.
her: yeah? and?

eventually she left:

s: two words. thick as pigshit.
me: that was three words.

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dumb dumb dumb

yesterday i learnt how to make the twist scoubidou.

brother #4: what are you doing? there's kids everywhere making those. i said kids!
me: so?
brother #4: what is happening to you?!
me: it's all part of my dumbing down programme. taking up a childish hobby. it's to go with my new dumbed-down tv habits, where i will watch only neighbours, emmerdale, and maybe coronation street. no more reality tv or documentaries for me.
house phone rings.
brother #4: hello? what? ok. bush-raaaa, phone!

it was brother #1. when the call ends i hang up and walk away, but the phone cable was wrapped around my foot and sent the phone crashing.

brother #4: you're doing well with this dumbing down thing aren't you?

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eh. and here you all were thinking i was making only pretty things from scoubidous:

Scoubidous banned by school head: Children at a school have been banned from weaving plastic into key fobs at playtime because it is too dangerous, a headteacher said.

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y'know, it was my 27th birthday a couple of weeks ago.

this week i began by aggravating a headache after hitting my head against a brass door handle first thing monday morning. feeling woozy or what.

and then yesterday i found this garfield cartoon in brother #1's paper.

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this is just far too polite/nice/whatever:

How to shorten a conversation at work: 'Open up your cellphone, and approach [the person’s] cubicle. Say into the phone, “hold on one second.” Then tell your talkative friend exactly what you need to tell them. They feel important because you interrupted your other conversation, but then you can motion to the phone to disengage them from any further small talk. Walk away and continue talking to your dial tone.'

[via lifehacker]

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painted houses photo set on flickr by amsabri. this one's my favourite.

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friendly fire.

sister #5 is working on her cv. and she's pestering me with text messages.

her: wat does extensive mean
me: it means if you don't find a dictionary i'm going to whack you with a big fish when i get home.
her: shut it an tel me sis u fat cow
me: a huge range, or lots, or extended, you fat wazzock. for example - sister #5 has an extensive range of skills in making a f*cking nuisance of herself (joke)
her: oh another example like bushra's nose is very extensive an is still extending (uh 'joke')

we're just messing. honest.

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when it first came out i was a bit 'wow' about postsecret. but i don't think i could stomach much more of it.

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i logged out of my phone this morning because i kept getting calls from a fax machine on the third floor. don't ask. i'd get up and shout about it but i don't want to be known as the girl who goes crazy because she keeps getting calls from people and fax machines, because the dialler forgets to hit 9 to dial an outside line. anyway. email tells me i have a new voice message. so i have to log on the phone to hear it. one minute of cheesy plinky plonky piano hold music. followed by a clunk as the caller hangs up. argh.

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fingers are blistered. arms and neck really really hurt. because i've been making scoubidous all weekend. i've still got to make a couple for the parents especially the mother who says her father used to make something similar. and the nieces won't let me in the house tonight until i've made theirs. whoo.

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y'all right? this is sister #5 ere, i'm taking over bushra's blog, man don't tell anyone at school man they'll think i've gone mad when really bushra is the one who's mad, writing all this useless crap on the internet innit, hahaha.

nah man, bushra's been getting on my case so much lately you shoulda seen how much grief she was giving me yesterday and all i did was have an extra piece of sister #4's birthday cake i mean no-one's gonna miss it are they, just cos it was a small cake and not enough to go round don't mean i can't have no extra cake innit. bushra was all hyperactive and even though she thinks i didn't hear her she was going 'count-to-ten-count-to-ten-count-to-ten' and brother #4 was like 'do you really think that's going to work?' he's right man, she needs to like count to a thousand!

and then later, yeah, i mean even though i said i'd eaten twice already i was feeling a bit hungry innit, so i had to eat something innit but no, bushra's washing up and bushra doesn't like it when me and brother #5 sit in the kitchen talking about that guy who's face brother #5 offered to re-arrange cos he dissed me in the park but it's all right cos i already done that innit innit, i mean what's her problem? she's only washing up, i mean like chill out.

so she gives up trying to get rid of us, but my bro went anyway and she just stood there with one hand in the sink watching me eat, and you can tell she's counting in her head the stupid crackpot so i just finished eating, got a nice clean mug because she was washing all the glasses and put some juice for myself. ah, that was nice. and man, she's still watching me! she really needs to get some help, so i get the mug and put it right in the middle of all her washing up and slowly walk out of the kitchen, but get this man, i was making the heels of my white new look slippers go click clack on the floor on purpose just to piss her off even more! i'm ba-a-a-d, innit. and then i shut the kitchen door right, and wait in the hall to see what she does. nothing. i was thinking bushra is such a pushover man when i hear this really loud voice shouting 'B-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-TCH!' from the kitchen.

my sister's mad, yo.

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the authority bought a sword, didn't he?

Chinese gamer sentenced to life: A Shanghai online gamer has been given a suspended death sentence for killing a fellow gamer. Qiu Chengwei stabbed Zhu Caoyuan in the chest when he found out he had sold his virtual sword for 7,200 Yuan (£473).

[via haya]

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time to dig out the birthday sticker and wish a happy birthday to sister #4, who has her moments. every time something funny happens, she's the one that says 'you've gotta blog that'.

and. happy birthday brian, innit.

i can't stop sneezing today.

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i was telling office person M, how every time she wishes me a 'relaxing evening' the day ends with anything but. yesterday we had a mini bradford invasion. three or four heads came to visit the dad, and talk stuff in the posh living room. the main guy's son had driven them here, and sat in the smaller living room, surrounded by the mother, sisters in law, and sisters #4 and #5. he's a funny guy though, i was living with his sister (an aunt) when i was working up in bradford. we were catching up and both shook our heads with shame because we'd read the story about clone towns.

him: i read it in the guardian.
me: ha, shame! i read it on bbc news online.
him: so that's what you do in the office all day.
me: hey, i'm not the one who wore a hugo boss suit to work. at boots!
him: look at the time, aren't they finished with the g8 summit next door?

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it's still around then.

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brian: what would freud say?
me: freud would say be glad you ain't one of the bad guys.

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busy busy busy. but this is good.

you know what i like about working here? no one will bat an eyelid when you wander about the office floor to take pictures like-a this.

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the authority: stop picking yer lips.
me: i'm not, it's just lip balm!
the authority: yer what?
me: i'm addicted to lip balm. got three of these.
the authority: you're sure it's not something else, like crack, or cocaine?
me: oh no, i save that for weekends.

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N sent me a pack of glitter strand scoubidous for my birthday. i would have gone running to sister #4 and yelled 'i got scoubies!' but my brain was working so much faster and decided that sentence would sound well dodgy. sister #5 was analysing what i call the technicolour scoubidou (niece #2 calls it the rainbow scoubidou):

sister #5: look. there's a bump here. and here.
me: hmm.
sister #5: it's not very even, is it?
me: shut up! you can't even make a scoubidou so there!
sister #5: teach me, please?

i suppose i need to grow up and watch big brother instead, but i didn't watch the first day and i haven't watched any since, so i'm stuck on these for the summer instead. three scoubidou key rings have been distributed to people on my list of blogs so far. who's next?

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J: Today is your birthday. Happy birthday. Many happy returns. How old are you now? 27? Nearly as old as me. They all died at 27, you know. Jimi Hendrix. Janis Joplin. Jim Morrison. Kurt Cobain. Just watch your back, that's all I'm saying.

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ages ago, when i first got a cameraphone (er, november 2003 to be exact) i did think i might actually shut up and take more pictures of stuff, but no, it didn't really happen. but wait. these days i don't feel like posting much, but i am getting hooked on taking pictures of anything and everything (i can't believe sister #2 wouldn't let me get a picture of nephew #3 wearing niece #2's hair accessories but never mind, uh oh, brackets) and sticking it up on flickr. i mean, look. bees. batteries. soft toys sitting in teeny tiny office windows. whatever next?

also. back next week.

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