Life Would Be So Very Much Easier...
Dec. 20th, 2005 12:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magicaddict...if people arranged their schedules around me, rather than forcing me to adapt to the opposite.
The fact that no research has been done as to who will accept posters and flyers round town is entirely my fault. I was given the list a long time ago and it's down to today and tomorrow that I'm sending things out. Fair enough, I'll give you that, my mistake, my gross slackness.
However...
The manager of the Parade bar has now taken two weeks to get back to me about the paltry sum of £50 to have his bar emblazened all over the back cover of the program. I wouldn't mind if he didn't want to pay - I just wish he would tell me so I could find someone else. The hard deadline for program submissions is now less than four weeks away, and having received the list of things people actually want in it, I really want to get the designs finished.
The manager of print services is never there when I show up, and always when I don't. I already have to apologise for letting him down slightly over stickers - he was all ready to make a special order for me when the committee told me they didn't want them after all - and now when I really want to give him about eighty pounds worth of business (that sounds pathetic in the context of what print services deal with regularly, but it's a lot of money to me) he is never about to discuss it with me. Hopefully he will be in tomorrow morning as promised, so I can give him the designs and throw his expertise at the printing.
Davoom were fantastic with my first order - less than forty-eight hours from ordering to it appearing on my doorstep. Not worried about a Christmas deadline, I placed an order for one of Mum's presents from them on the twelfth.
They dispatched it yesterday, and I am left praying that it gets here tomorrow.
If not, I'm buggered.
Gaaah.
[/rant]
On a lighter note, tabletops at the weekend both went really quite well. Tiny, Shadow and Benedict managed to put aside their collective egos and performed to their strengths in getting the box they stole last shambles into the right place at the right time. The plan involved Tiny and some Benedict-made explosives on the far of the island underneath the freeway flyover, Shadow (invisible) on the other near the target, and Benedict in the van in case anything went wrong. At the given signal, Tiny caused mayhem via the medium of gratuitous detonation on, under and right next to the flyover, dragging all security personnel towards it and leaving Shadow to do his sneaky thing into position. Entire job lot done, no-one got a shot off at me, and we might even get paid.
Exalted saw the entire group under Sorin's leadership (which he enjoyed immensely), as he and Esmerelda (spelling? Sorry to Hobbit if incorrect) posed as Dragonblooded nobility sent to inspect an archaeological dig site, backed up by his bodyguard (Jomar), his advisor (Ranek), and her maid (Afina). Without a cross word being said, we gained entry, cleaned out their food stores, stole their finds and planted evidence on the dig manager that he was a traitor to the immaculate order and should be killed on sight. In return for this, we were thanked and wished well on our journey. We all missed our calling - this was Ocean's Five way before its time.
My attempt to synthesise something that should be trivial to me that I thought had gone absolutely wrong is resolutely assured as being the right stuff, so I can try a Realms of Fantasy-grade co-crystallisation over the holidays that would qualify as completion of all necessary experiments for the PhD if it succeeded. Doubtful, but there is absolutely no good reason why it shouldn't work.
We can but hope.
The fact that no research has been done as to who will accept posters and flyers round town is entirely my fault. I was given the list a long time ago and it's down to today and tomorrow that I'm sending things out. Fair enough, I'll give you that, my mistake, my gross slackness.
However...
The manager of the Parade bar has now taken two weeks to get back to me about the paltry sum of £50 to have his bar emblazened all over the back cover of the program. I wouldn't mind if he didn't want to pay - I just wish he would tell me so I could find someone else. The hard deadline for program submissions is now less than four weeks away, and having received the list of things people actually want in it, I really want to get the designs finished.
The manager of print services is never there when I show up, and always when I don't. I already have to apologise for letting him down slightly over stickers - he was all ready to make a special order for me when the committee told me they didn't want them after all - and now when I really want to give him about eighty pounds worth of business (that sounds pathetic in the context of what print services deal with regularly, but it's a lot of money to me) he is never about to discuss it with me. Hopefully he will be in tomorrow morning as promised, so I can give him the designs and throw his expertise at the printing.
Davoom were fantastic with my first order - less than forty-eight hours from ordering to it appearing on my doorstep. Not worried about a Christmas deadline, I placed an order for one of Mum's presents from them on the twelfth.
They dispatched it yesterday, and I am left praying that it gets here tomorrow.
If not, I'm buggered.
Gaaah.
[/rant]
On a lighter note, tabletops at the weekend both went really quite well. Tiny, Shadow and Benedict managed to put aside their collective egos and performed to their strengths in getting the box they stole last shambles into the right place at the right time. The plan involved Tiny and some Benedict-made explosives on the far of the island underneath the freeway flyover, Shadow (invisible) on the other near the target, and Benedict in the van in case anything went wrong. At the given signal, Tiny caused mayhem via the medium of gratuitous detonation on, under and right next to the flyover, dragging all security personnel towards it and leaving Shadow to do his sneaky thing into position. Entire job lot done, no-one got a shot off at me, and we might even get paid.
Exalted saw the entire group under Sorin's leadership (which he enjoyed immensely), as he and Esmerelda (spelling? Sorry to Hobbit if incorrect) posed as Dragonblooded nobility sent to inspect an archaeological dig site, backed up by his bodyguard (Jomar), his advisor (Ranek), and her maid (Afina). Without a cross word being said, we gained entry, cleaned out their food stores, stole their finds and planted evidence on the dig manager that he was a traitor to the immaculate order and should be killed on sight. In return for this, we were thanked and wished well on our journey. We all missed our calling - this was Ocean's Five way before its time.
My attempt to synthesise something that should be trivial to me that I thought had gone absolutely wrong is resolutely assured as being the right stuff, so I can try a Realms of Fantasy-grade co-crystallisation over the holidays that would qualify as completion of all necessary experiments for the PhD if it succeeded. Doubtful, but there is absolutely no good reason why it shouldn't work.
We can but hope.
