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Well, They Didn't Throw Rocks...
Apr. 18th, 2006 03:19 pm...so they can't have exactly hated me.
I had planned on writing a preparative explanation of whatever the above statement would be before last Wednesday, but the extreme lateness with which I shot into Calton Walk on said day - at 13:56, when I had to finish packing and get back to the station carrying one too many items for the number of arms I had before 14:12 - precluded my doing so.
From Wednesday evening to Saturday morning, I was staying with Emma at her house in Reigate. It rocked. But, before that...
Tuesday encompassed the much anticipated and long overdue visit from Bex and John to Bath. After drinking our way round several of the nicer ale houses in the town, we headed back to CW for gin and tonic and for her to meet the housemates.
Which was interesting.
After a slight misunderstanding over the phrase "How much do you charge", Tim was caused to run headlong from the house after Bex threatened him with grueome death at the hands of her husband standing right next to her. Elizabeth managed to last a little longer, but several under the breath phrases from what turned out to be both "corners" seemed to suggest to me that they hadn't exactly got off on the right foot. Thankfully, they seem to be talking to each other now and panic seems to be over. I get embarrassed when two people I am a mutual friend of meet for the first time and click in entirely the wrong direction - it's not the first time it's happened, but this was the first time they were genuine friends so it mattered a little more on this occasion. Problems seem to be over, to everyone's relief. Jon only said hi before retiring to his room, which was undoubtedly the safest place to be in the face of Bex-minus-safety-catch, so she didn't get to meet him for any amount of time, which is a shame because I think they'd have been fine with each other. Oh well.
She departed the following day and promptly had the car she and John were in break down. Never rains on that girls life...
But anyway, I digress...
Emma's house is great, the people (seven - count them) are all very easy to get along with in their own way, and Emma is as fantastic as always. Notable highlights, in one form or another, included:
Managing to make it on to the train at all. I got there with ten seconds to spare having almost dropped the bouquet of flowers I was carrying.
Being introduced to Clare (her eldest sister) as she looked round from the computer chair in the office to notice the flowers and proclaim "Oh you're such a bitch!" to my beloved. Well, hello to you too.
Having my socks brutally assaulted by Nina (her youngest sister) for no good reason whatsoever, but in a way that everyone present (including me) found hilarious. Who is to say what goes in in the mind of a ten year old...or a twenty-one or twenty-four year old for that matter.
Realising with some shock that the Mass I attended on the Thursday night was the first church service I had ever been to that wasn't compulsory. Taizé has a lot to answer for, most notably the turning of what used to be perfectly good services into Moody Blues concerts. I do want to start attending more often, but what went on there was a little too much like what I used to do at my Primary School to pique my interest too far. I long for slightly more classical services. Does that make me a religious conservative? Quite possibly...
Attempting and succeeding with little trouble and no cross words to erect the new tent between Emma and myself. We managed it from bag to up in forty minutes, and fifteen of those were working out that we had the groundsheet in upside down. I reckon she and I could now put it up as fast as I can do mine on my own, which is fast enough for anyone, and it is every bit as bloody huge as it looked on the drawings. Gravy.
Having her father give me wine and actually wait for my opinion on it. What little I know about wine is dwarfed by him and the cellar he keeps, so I was fully aware that anything he served me was going to be a nice drop, but he had the courtesy to check I didn't turn my nose up anyway.
Managing to go the entire visit without doing anything overtly stupid or offensive to people, and getting away with many smiles and invites to return whenever I wanted. Re-sult.
Saturday saw Emma and I departing for Oxford to introduce her to White City, and I was pleased to see that she liked it as much as I do. She managed to define her entire WC career within a couple of hours of beginning it as she played a S&M mage with a penchant for tying her slaves up in magical chains. As the GM said, let us never speak of this again. Damn, I love that woman - that's Emma, not the GM.
I continue to enjoy the system, and enthuse over the simplicity of gameplay and how much fun everyone seems to have in the absence of codified twinking and rules lawyering. I did, however, take great interest in finding out how my potential character could have a punchers chance of taking down a god by the time I gain my third level of glass sorcery. *Slap self about head* just 'cos there's not much twinking there doesn't mean there's a void to fill...bad Magicaddict...
So here I am, at home in Droitwich and typing this on a keyboard with malfunctioning S and W keys due to mum spilling cider on them last week and having to finish creating a poster to display at a regional meeting of the Dalton section of the Royal Society of Chemistry on a computer that takes a good fifteen seconds to fire up PowerPoint. While I love being at home, doing nothing and catching up with the various members of the family, I would much have preferred to be doing this on my TLS in bath, that despite being old and in need of repair, still sits up and begs whenever I fire her up. That machine deserves being put out to pasture like no other, and come the middle of May, might jut make it. That would give me time to play through Freelancer again before I get hold of Darkstar One, filling the void that Microsoft failed to exploit by bringing out Freelancer II, all the while bringing tears to my eyes as I load up EQII and it actually works. The joys of a computer who can drive all games in the way they're supposed to should not be lost on people, and I would suggest that anyone who claims otherwise has never been on or as close to the cutting adge as TLSII will be once she is built.
Look for more userpics coming soon, as I actually get round to making them. Time on my hands? At this stage in the PhD? Me? They must be mad...
Roll on Wednesday, getting back to Bath and being able to meet up with Emma again. As good as Drotiwich is, anywhere without her is rather boring.
I had planned on writing a preparative explanation of whatever the above statement would be before last Wednesday, but the extreme lateness with which I shot into Calton Walk on said day - at 13:56, when I had to finish packing and get back to the station carrying one too many items for the number of arms I had before 14:12 - precluded my doing so.
From Wednesday evening to Saturday morning, I was staying with Emma at her house in Reigate. It rocked. But, before that...
Tuesday encompassed the much anticipated and long overdue visit from Bex and John to Bath. After drinking our way round several of the nicer ale houses in the town, we headed back to CW for gin and tonic and for her to meet the housemates.
Which was interesting.
After a slight misunderstanding over the phrase "How much do you charge", Tim was caused to run headlong from the house after Bex threatened him with grueome death at the hands of her husband standing right next to her. Elizabeth managed to last a little longer, but several under the breath phrases from what turned out to be both "corners" seemed to suggest to me that they hadn't exactly got off on the right foot. Thankfully, they seem to be talking to each other now and panic seems to be over. I get embarrassed when two people I am a mutual friend of meet for the first time and click in entirely the wrong direction - it's not the first time it's happened, but this was the first time they were genuine friends so it mattered a little more on this occasion. Problems seem to be over, to everyone's relief. Jon only said hi before retiring to his room, which was undoubtedly the safest place to be in the face of Bex-minus-safety-catch, so she didn't get to meet him for any amount of time, which is a shame because I think they'd have been fine with each other. Oh well.
She departed the following day and promptly had the car she and John were in break down. Never rains on that girls life...
But anyway, I digress...
Emma's house is great, the people (seven - count them) are all very easy to get along with in their own way, and Emma is as fantastic as always. Notable highlights, in one form or another, included:
Managing to make it on to the train at all. I got there with ten seconds to spare having almost dropped the bouquet of flowers I was carrying.
Being introduced to Clare (her eldest sister) as she looked round from the computer chair in the office to notice the flowers and proclaim "Oh you're such a bitch!" to my beloved. Well, hello to you too.
Having my socks brutally assaulted by Nina (her youngest sister) for no good reason whatsoever, but in a way that everyone present (including me) found hilarious. Who is to say what goes in in the mind of a ten year old...or a twenty-one or twenty-four year old for that matter.
Realising with some shock that the Mass I attended on the Thursday night was the first church service I had ever been to that wasn't compulsory. Taizé has a lot to answer for, most notably the turning of what used to be perfectly good services into Moody Blues concerts. I do want to start attending more often, but what went on there was a little too much like what I used to do at my Primary School to pique my interest too far. I long for slightly more classical services. Does that make me a religious conservative? Quite possibly...
Attempting and succeeding with little trouble and no cross words to erect the new tent between Emma and myself. We managed it from bag to up in forty minutes, and fifteen of those were working out that we had the groundsheet in upside down. I reckon she and I could now put it up as fast as I can do mine on my own, which is fast enough for anyone, and it is every bit as bloody huge as it looked on the drawings. Gravy.
Having her father give me wine and actually wait for my opinion on it. What little I know about wine is dwarfed by him and the cellar he keeps, so I was fully aware that anything he served me was going to be a nice drop, but he had the courtesy to check I didn't turn my nose up anyway.
Managing to go the entire visit without doing anything overtly stupid or offensive to people, and getting away with many smiles and invites to return whenever I wanted. Re-sult.
Saturday saw Emma and I departing for Oxford to introduce her to White City, and I was pleased to see that she liked it as much as I do. She managed to define her entire WC career within a couple of hours of beginning it as she played a S&M mage with a penchant for tying her slaves up in magical chains. As the GM said, let us never speak of this again. Damn, I love that woman - that's Emma, not the GM.
I continue to enjoy the system, and enthuse over the simplicity of gameplay and how much fun everyone seems to have in the absence of codified twinking and rules lawyering. I did, however, take great interest in finding out how my potential character could have a punchers chance of taking down a god by the time I gain my third level of glass sorcery. *Slap self about head* just 'cos there's not much twinking there doesn't mean there's a void to fill...bad Magicaddict...
So here I am, at home in Droitwich and typing this on a keyboard with malfunctioning S and W keys due to mum spilling cider on them last week and having to finish creating a poster to display at a regional meeting of the Dalton section of the Royal Society of Chemistry on a computer that takes a good fifteen seconds to fire up PowerPoint. While I love being at home, doing nothing and catching up with the various members of the family, I would much have preferred to be doing this on my TLS in bath, that despite being old and in need of repair, still sits up and begs whenever I fire her up. That machine deserves being put out to pasture like no other, and come the middle of May, might jut make it. That would give me time to play through Freelancer again before I get hold of Darkstar One, filling the void that Microsoft failed to exploit by bringing out Freelancer II, all the while bringing tears to my eyes as I load up EQII and it actually works. The joys of a computer who can drive all games in the way they're supposed to should not be lost on people, and I would suggest that anyone who claims otherwise has never been on or as close to the cutting adge as TLSII will be once she is built.
Look for more userpics coming soon, as I actually get round to making them. Time on my hands? At this stage in the PhD? Me? They must be mad...
Roll on Wednesday, getting back to Bath and being able to meet up with Emma again. As good as Drotiwich is, anywhere without her is rather boring.
