Scrapes and japes

Last night, I was dragged out by my very loving friends. Knowing that I've recently made a decision that, while necessary, also completely sucks, they insisted on my company. Tiff made me pinky-swear, guys; it was that serious. We ventured into town for drinking and dancing, and I proceeded to have the most accident-prone night of my life.

Anna's list of minor wounds

1. Index finger: paper cuts, two. No idea how they happened, although I suspect my recent nail-biting is the culprit. Stung like crazy.
2. Knees: scraped. I fell over on the way into town (still completely sober!), and despite my leggings, took a layer of skin off. Standing up / sitting down hurts.
3. Hands: saved from my clumsiness by my unusual decision to wear fingerless gloves into town.
4. Face: elbowed by a 6'6" madman skanking at full speed. He apologised. Nose not broken.
5. Arm: bruised by being hugged into a wall by aforementioned madman. Hurts a lot but isn't visible, which is the worst kind of bruise as you don't even get kudos.

Tiff used her nursing experience to field-dress my knees with tissue paper from the ladies'. That's not so unusual for me; a few months ago I treated a pretty deep wound at a house party with makeup pads and sellotape because nobody there owned plasters. I still have an interesting purple mark on my knee from that one.

That was the first time I've been out dancing in quite a long time, and I went for it wholeheartedly, inhibitions significantly lowered by a couple of rum and cokes and the smoke machine that obscured my flailing completely. The people I went with were absolutely lovely; I got talking to someone about graffiti; he's hopefully going to email me some of his art for me to have uninformed opinions about.

Various people pulled / passed out / puked, ultimately returning to our house and crashing. It's quite nice, at times, to come downstairs to a living room full of people who are still drunk / barely conscious / insistent on us all returning to their house for "mystery hot chocolate."

It was very mysterious.

   I kind of ache all over.

      Still, at least it took my mind off -
       - oh man... this sucks.

Blank pages

It's a constant source of frustration to me that my idea-times and my blank-post-open times never quite seem to coincide. I try to keep a text document with which to share my inspirational nuggets, but once the ideas go in there, they have a nasty tendency to wither and die, once again forcing me to post a guilt update consisting mostly of links and pictures. (Not that there's anything wrong with links and pictures; it's just that you're unlikely to think to yourself, "My word, that was a well-written link. And those pictures! Why, that's the equivalent of 3,000 words! Truly, this is something I must share with all my friends and facebook friends.")

One of the reasons for this is that I only open up a blank post with which to fill with my genius at ridiculous 0'clock in the morning (which for the uninitiated is after bedtime o'clock, but long before maybe-this-counts-as-getting-up-early o'clock), a habit that tends to cause every original and creative brain cell in my skull to shrivel and whimper softly to themselves.

Part of it is that I'm just out of practise. I haven't been writing as much since I started struggling with uni work, favouring instead the relatively easy point and click of my beloved camera. I'm not saying that photography is easier than writing; merely that it's about a million times easier if you have no idea what you're doing. Which I don't.

On that note... I'm planning to go on a photography course, if I can get my butt in gear. And, with a similar butt-in-gear proviso, I also intend to take up dance classes. That is so unlike me... I've spent the vast majority of my life trying to avoid any and all forms of strenuous physical activity, possibly explaining why I haven't flunked out of Starfleet Academy (surely the best euphemism ever). Fnarr fnarr, etc. I don't know what kind of dance classes to take, but I confess to being intrigued by the possibility of pole-dancing lessons. I hear you've got to have great muscle tone, which I do not. I never succesfully managed to climb the rope in those dreaded PE lessons in middle school. Perhaps I'm setting my sights too high and should just chain myself to a treadmill until I'm thin?

Yes, that's another thing that's been on my mind lately... excess blubber. I can no longer dismiss it as Christmas weight, or hope that if I just ignore it it will go away. The temptation is not to mention it to you lovely people, so that nobody will notice if I fail to lose any of it, but maybe a bit of pressure is what I need. Besies, it's high time I took up some form of exercise.

Besides, what is 2009 if not a blank state? I should make of it what I will.

And with that metaphor I segue seamlessly back to my starting point. Did you see how I did that? Ohyeah. I'm good.

Trains, Aliens, and Nirvana in the bath.

Stupid trains.

I should have been suspicious when every train around us was being delayed and having platform changes, but our faithful little train to Cardiff stayed rock steady... I should have realised then. It was cancelled. And the next train to Cardiff was half an hour late. Grrrr, stupid trains... so I missed the concert we were going to see, which I feel bad about because my boy could have gone but instead he was cooking for me and such.
(Side note: the 'insert picture' button didn't work, so I did that with my newfound knowledge of HTML. That's how badass I am.)

I had so much fun dancing with my boy... I haven't done that since that festival (vaguely referred to here, it was wonderful). There's a lovely picture of us doing the aforementioned here, YAY!

Saturday was similarly awesome, we saw Alien vs. Predator: Requiem which was pretty much new territory for me, but I actually really enjoyed it! (It was my idea, he didn't bully me into it.) Then we went out to a gorgeous Italian restaurant that he's been wanting to show me for ages, which was absolutely amazing (although sushi still wins).

On Sunday, we were both too tired for church in the morning, which was really a shame. Never mind, next time. And he showed me how to do interesting techie things with a nitfy little firefox addon called Firebug. I was surprisingly clued up :) SMUG.

Everything got a bit chaotic towards the end, stupid taxi company sent me two so I thought it was about to drive off without me, meh anyway.

It was about time too, hadn't seen my boy in weeks.

Don't worry, as soon as I start doing other interesting things I'll blog about them as well!