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Camy

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Blog Entries posted by Camy

  1. Camy
    'tis a beautiful sunny day, even though it started off with a frost.
    I'm looking at this:

    which is rather nice, except I'm trying to hate it as I'm selling up ....
    ... and I'm just off to play with M.
    Playing with one's true love is ... well pretty damn fun, especially as he's such a good keyboard player. He's just got a new guitar, which I get to strum, and apparently he's written a new song, too: so that should be good.
    The cat says hello, as do her Mum and brothers.
    Ave, peeps.
    Camy
  2. Camy

    Bloody typical!

    By Camy,

    A long time ago I read a book called 'Empty World' by John Christopher. It begins with a global pandemic that first kills off all the adults, and later, most of the children. It's the story of how a very small group of survivors gets on. When I first read it I was the age of the book's hero: a teenager. Now that we are about to suffer a real pandemic I find myself in positively the wrong age group. Bollocks!
    Much like the public information films about nuclear war that suggested we should loiter behind a door, under a pile of earth filled bin bags, the U.K. government's response to swine flu suggests that: The best way to protect yourself and stop the spread of flu viruses is by using and disposing of tissues and washing your hands.
    They have also come up with a very catchy phrase: CATCH IT, BIN IT, KILL IT. Obviously Hummers, camouflage outfits and AK47s are of no use whatsoever. Not that I have a Hummer or an AK47, though I do have a rather natty pair of desert camouflage pants.
    Still, I'm going to be most miffed if I sneeze myself off this mortal coil before I've written a stonking good novel. Hmm, best get started I suppose.
  3. Camy

    Carma

    By Camy,

    It's odd how we become attached to our cars.
    For the last two years I've been driving a Citroen Berlingo. I was given it, so I can't complain that it was big and slow and had a bit of a slippy clutch. Over time I came to love her (tear rolls down cheek). No, I couldn't take a Porche from a standing start - but I could fit all the bands gigging equipement in the back. Then, she failed her MOT (mandatory yearly government safety check). Not badly, but add to that a new clutch and it was going to be expensive (another tear or two). So she had to go (wail).
    I live in the middle of nowhere: transport is important, busses irrregular, and decision making re cars not my best skill. So I drove her (a tad illegally) until it was pointed out I was a bloody idiot. Truth slaps one in the face, hard (stinging cheek).
    Then, amazingly, I was given another car. This one a BMW 2.5 litre thing. 'W00T' thought I (wipes tears away). Berlingo collected for scrap and shiny beast sitting squat in drive. What could be nicer? Well, with petrol prices skyrocketing, quite a lot. Then, yesterday, I found out free cars are often quite nerve-racking and potentially expensive propositions.
    Driving into the local town and home - a round trip of 15 miles - the radiator needed re-filling four times.
    "Oh, yes, it does overheat," I'm told. "And by the way, sometimes the automatic doesn't engage for a moment or two."
    'Mmm,' I think. 'Lovely.'
    So I have a new free car and almost wish I didn't. Is that churlish of me? I don't know. Probably. But there's no way I'd moan. After all, she was free and has leather seats to boot.
    I just kinda wish I'd had the dosh to buy a small, cheap to run, thing, rather than having a gas guzzling behemoth.
  4. Camy

    Cars Grrrrrr.

    By Camy,

    In the UK we have a yearly test for cars called an MOT. In years past, although it was illegal, frowned upon, and you risked getting a big slap, it was not that big a deal if your cars MOT had expired. Now, what with computers and the 1984 Big Brother mentality, you risk severe doo-doo if you don't have one.
    Today, my baby Renault Clio failed hers. *sob, wail, gnash, howl*
    So I get home and look at the failure sheet (you have 10 days to put the problems right and have a re-test).
    'It's not so bad' I'm thinking. 'A few bulbs, a bit of exhaust pipe, front brakes and a tyre.' Then I realise that because of the exhaust pipe it hasn't had the dreaded emissions test.
    The emissions test (minds out of gutter, please) is a nightmare. If you have the most perfect car in the world and it fails this test, then you have to scrap it (and kill yourself, too).
    So, I'm in a catch 22, and panicking! If I fork out and have the exhaust fixed (which - according to the nice man at the garage - could be as much as ?350) it might still fail emissions due to the engine ... and there are still the tyre and the bulbs and the brakes and etc, etc, etc.
    Then ...
    ... a friend phones up. He's got a Citroen Belingo with 2 months MOT and he's going to give it to me for ... FREE!!!!
    It needs a bit of work, but as he was about to have it scrapped, it's a win-win all around.
    Oh, chuffed and lucky am I!
  5. Camy

    Cat problems + Red House

    By Camy,

    The vet said (not verbatim) 'As the nights are now drawing in she won't go on heat again until spring.'
    Stupid vet. I woke in the middle of the night as Sassy (said cat) yowled in my ear. Luckily, I avoided a heart attack.
    Sassy talks a lot. Siamese always do. But when she's on heat it's excruciatingly loud. Luckily, we live in a cottage with a very thick wall between us and the neighbour, and a stream on the other side. So no complaints... yet.
    She's not big enough for kittens yet. Next spring she'll be two and hopefully, if she's big enough, we'll find a suitably stunning stud poss and she'll have one lot of babies and then be snipped.
    Which brings me to 'Red House.' It's difficult, with a cat lying supine on your keyboard waggling her lady parts in your face, to write, let alone write the required daily amount. There are the odd occasions when there's complete silence, and it's wondrous! So wondrous, and peaceful, it becomes time for a quick kip.
    It's not been a productive few days....
  6. Camy

    Cats are a PAIN!

    By Camy,

    It's raining, and the cats are in a fractious mood. Cody sneaks up on her brother ... wakes him up ... he gets grumpy, and starts chasing her ... she comes thundering upstairs, and hides on my lap.
    Then they go out, and back in again: wet. I have to stop what I'm doing and dry them off ... then they go out again ... and back in ... and ....
    Ad-infinitum.
    I'm part exchanging them for a hamster.
  7. Camy
    "They don't like it up 'em, Captain Mainwaring!" This line from 'Dad's Army' set the tone for Katie (ancient siamese beasty) having her claws clipped. She's pretty much house-bound nowadays and her claws are ... well 'savage' belies the truth. 'Wickedly Bitching Sabatier' comes closer.
    You don't want her on your lap: unless you're wearing chain-mail, and unfortunately, mine's rusty.
    So ... I tried. The thing is with cats: they're psychic. She knew I was nervous even before I decided to start. Now I have a knee like a pin cushion, and no thanks from anybody.
    Still, on the upside, I got one paw done. Only three more to go!
    Yours, most miffed,
    Camy
  8. Camy

    Character Names, etc.

    By Camy,

    I'm not very good with inventing unique character names. Appalling actually, no idea why, just one of those things. So, as no matter what I do I get a lot of spam, I came up with the idea of using the senders names. Now, some of these really are unique, otherwise they'd get caught by my good friend and colleague: 'Spammy', the spam filter.
    I keep them in a file called ... erm *shuffles about looking embarrassed* 'good names.txt'
    Here are today's:
    Carson Richmond
    Jarek Looman
    Jaramillo Camille
    Isabella Russell
    Luella Conn
    Stuller Schlund
    Allie Jorgensen
    Vonfeldt Merriam
    Guillermo Scruggs
    Colville Carrigan
    Gullace Riback
    Hordei Africanthropus
    Expect to see them in a story, sooner or later. Word.
    If the cat would get off the desk I might be able to post this in a timely fashion.
    "Timely," she says, meowling. "There's nothing you've ever done that's timely."
    "Yeah, right," I reply. "Grub? Litter refilling duties? Opening and closing the back door a thousand times a day?"
    "Yes, but you love me, don't you?" She says, looking like butter wouldn't melt. "And whose fault is it you don't fit a Cat flap. Purrrr?"
    "You're a tart, you know that don't you?" I say. But she's fallen fast asleep ....
    Cats. Who'd have one?
    Emus are another matter entirely!
    The last chapter of Seraph is not making me happy. It's not making me happy, because it won't ... work. *sighs* 'Bathtime', on the other hand, is nearly finished. As are 'Tiatrather', 'Probisher', and 'Berkeley Tales'.
    Enough.
    Ave.
    Camy
  9. Camy

    Cheer up Shelley.

    By Camy,

    I spend a lot of time bemoaning the fact that I'm not doing what I should be doing; cursing the mistakes I've made, my bone idleness ... and then wondering what it actually is that I should have been doing in the first place. Daft, huh?
    Anyway, when I get in one of those frames of mind I read this poem: which knocks sense back into my thick skull. After all: we only have the one shot. We might as well enjoy it, no matter what. ;)
    Ozymandias
    by Percy Byshe Shelley (1792-1822)
    I met a traveller from an antique land
    Who said:?Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
    Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
    Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
    And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
    Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
    Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
    The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
    And on the pedestal these words appear:
    "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
    Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
    Nothing beside remains: round the decay
    Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
    The lone and level sands stretch far away.
    ---
  10. Camy

    Cheery Me

    By Camy,

    My poem 'Cheery Me' seems to have caused 'a bit of a to do'.
    Cheery cheery me
    Razor blade and morphine free
    Can't take the final step
    No one to feed the cats you see
    I appreciate the concern more than those concerned will probably ever know: however, I'd like to state that though I've occasionally pondered the idea of 'offing' myself - and who can honestly say they haven't - I wouldn't. It's pointless, and I have way too much to do. I really, really want to finish my novel. I've songs to record, a boyfriend to shag (too much information?) and a life to live ... not to mention cats.
    So thank you - you know who you are.
    And to those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, thank you too.
    Camy
  11. Camy

    Debt

    By Camy,

    Joy! We had our budget yesterday. Apparently, those 'in charge' have borrowed - and intend to go on borrowing - an awful lot of dosh. Apparently, the debt equates to over ?17,000 for every man woman and child in the UK. Apparently ....
    Sadly, I voted for the inept cretins - though (in my defence) at the time the prime minister wasn't a man with despotic megalomania, and the Chancellor didn't have Caterpillars for eybrows and an Adams' family hairdo.
    Never again!
    I intend to declare independence. The Royalesque Bank of Emu will be opening its doors shortly. Investors most welcome.
  12. Camy
    I've added a new category 'Claptrapish' This is for claptrap that has marginally more ... erm ... possibilities than straight common or garden Claptrap.
    Here's an example: Astrology. Believe? No. No proof; but it can be entertaining.
    http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/aries.html
    Aries March 21st - April 19th
    '"If you hold your dreams too tightly, you'll crush their little ribs," was the message scrawled on the wall of a public restroom I visited today. I immediately recognized that as excellent advice for you. While I'm usually all in favor of cultivating a ferocious devotion towards one's goals and desires, I've noticed lately that your grasp on yours has turned into a manic clench. Please let them breathe better. Give them some slack. Maybe tell yourself a joke about how funny you look applying that death-grip.'
    Totally meaningless, but entertaining = Claptrapish.
  13. Camy

    Done!

    By Camy,

    The 2007 NaNoWriMo is finished! Thank the stars.
    I wrote a story called 'Harvest Time' which started off one thing, and ended up something else entirely - there is no accounting for my muse's whim.
    It's not finished, but hopefully will be soon, and then It'll be edited and released chapter by chapter. It's sequelesque to Nyquist and Feredir.
    Camy

  14. Camy

    Duck Duck Emu

    By Camy,

    I love 'Duck Duck Goose' and I hate it, too. As a story it's had me in all states of emotion, yet as a writer I know I could never write anything similar. That kind of length would get me twisted up in knots so fast I'd have to admit myself to the loony bin.
    But why? That's what's bothering me. Why can I only seem to write short stories?
    I have a couple of nearly finished novels, and yet every time I think of finishing them, I get into a cold sweat.
    Know thyself is good advice. I obviously don't.
    Yours, miffed.
    Camy
    ---
    I've finished 'Bathtime', a short (how did you guess?).
  15. Camy
    Like most people - or some people, anyway - I have been searching, nay, questing most of my life for the perfect religion. I've been hunting a religion that was a fit for me.
    I grew up in the Church of England (Henry VIII's personal (and consequently England's - it's nice to be a King) religion. Henry was miffed because the Pope refused to let him get divorced when he didn't want to off yet another wife). But as religions go C of E wasn't right.... Yes, there were nice hymns. Yes, I was in the choir for almost a month (which enabled me to be first in the queue for lunch). But no, it wasn't perfect.
    Catholisism I didn't try - too many strange frocked men wanting private time. Scientology was okay for the first week, but then they intimated that it would be a good idea if I signed my life over to them and, besides that, they wanted money!
    So onto Buddhism - via all the other major world beliefs. But which one? Zen? Too Zen. Nicherin Shoshu, where my best friend lays his hat, is... well, I tried it, but t'was not to be.
    It was awful. I was beginning to lose faith.
    And then I found Dudeism!
    It was an obvious fit, seeeing as how I hang out at AwesomeDude. But no, Dudeism has nothing to do with our Dude. There is (shock-horror) another Dude. And I have joined the flock!

    I am proud to announce I am now ordained as a priest in The Church Of The Latter Day Dude. But what does this really mean, Camy? I hear you ask. Well, being an official Dudeist priest, I can perform weddings in most states in the U.S.A.. So, if any of you are looking to get hitched you know where to come (as it were).
    It's good to be a Dudeist.
  16. Camy

    Emus love preening.

    By Camy,

    He might not have a feathered wing
    But he loves to howl and pretends to sing
    He tippy tap typed all through the night
    For thirty days and it came out right.
    Phew. Done, but not close to dusted.
    Congratulations to fellow winner Bruin Fisher, my comrade throughout the 30 days. May your jockstrap never waver!
  17. Camy
    Finally, yesterday, we finished shooting a video for 'Spring of Teal'.
    I love Apple computers and their software. Final Cut rocks! All I have to do is log and capture the DVs, Sync them and snippety-snip. Easy-peasy! I'll see you next millenia, then.
  18. Camy

    Fragile

    By Camy,

    I'm feeling fragile. Apologies for the expletives.
    Ultimately it comes down to purpose. Why am I here, and what the fuck am I supposed to be doing?
    They say - depending on who the 'they' are - that I'm here to improve my lot and will come back time after time until I get the keys to ... heaven/nirvana/shangri-la or alternatively I'm gonna burn in the fires of hell. Well, I'm not keen. And I'm certainly not keen on the fires of hell. I want to know what it is I should be doing so I can get on with it. Hmm. Not too hard is it?
    Apparently, yes. It is.
    The concept of life I grew up with was: be a child, go to school, grow up, go to university, get a job, retire, die. Well, I've truly fucked up on that. I got stuck in the growing up bit, and I can't even seem to achieve that. There are no jobs for life anymore, and retirement is just a farce unless you happen to win the lottery.
    I wish my dad was still alive to tell me, though actually he was as lost as I am. His only piece of advice to me was 'do whatever you want provided you're happy, and don't harm others'. Nice, but really he should have given me a map.
    Then there are the side roads I seem to have drifted down. Like drugs. Well, yes I do. Unfortunately.
    Oh lord, hear my prayer, and send me a sign ... or the lottery numbers. I thank you.
    I should have been an astronaut or a steam train driver. Perhaps it's not to late. Ok, so maybe not an astronaut.
    I'm one fucked up Emu.
    Goodnight.
    Oh, and then there's M, my true love. I want to live with him, but achieving it seems nigh impossible. The C word - commitment - is just ... terrifying, yet why should it be? I love him, and he loves me. So why is it all so difficult?
  19. Camy

    Funky Words

    By Camy,

    hood, airhead, applesauce, baby, bad egg, baloney, besotted, big bucks, big money, bilgewater, bitch, bite, blind drunk, blotto, boffin, boloney, bolshy, bosh, built, bumph, bun-fight, bundle, bunfight, bunk off, burnup, buy it, caff, can-do, cert, chuck, clean, cockeyed, codswallop, corker, crocked, deck, ditch, dreck, drool, drop-dead, feel, folderol, freaky, fuddled, gat, give, good egg, grotty, guvnor, heebie-jeebies, heist, hooey, hoof, humbug, jitters, juice, key, legs, loaded, mean, megabucks, niff, nosh-up, old man, out-and-outer, pie-eyed, pile, pint-size, pint-sized, pip out, pissed, pixilated, plastered, play hooky, plum, plumb, pong, poppycock, potty, rip-off, rod, rubbish, runty, sawed-off, sawn-off, screaming meemies, shakedown, shlock, shlockmeister, sister, slam-bang, slopped, sloshed, smashed, soaked, some, soused, sozzled, square, square-bashing, squeeze, squiffy, stacked, stiff, straight, stroppy, stuff, stuff and nonsense, taradiddle, , tiddley, tiddly, tight, tipsy, tommyrot, tosh, trash, tripe, trumpery, twaddle, uncool, well-stacked, wet, wish-wash, Pixy, Coal, Cole, Sour-Apple-Squirts.
  20. Camy

    Good Stuff!

    By Camy,

    I'm sitting at Mick's computer, and he's on the phone talking to a guitarist.
    Our band is going to take a back seat for a while, 'cause we're re-forming a band that was quite well known a while ago. It's a three piece, and I'm going back to my first discipline: Drumming.
    Looking forward to it? Fuck yeah!
    Camy
  21. Camy

    Gorgeous Weather

    By Camy,

    It's gorgeous weather. It makes such a difference to my frame of mind. I'm feeling quite perky, which is good for many reasons, not the least of which is, I hope, my writing. I now have so many part written stories it's not funny. Just to finish one would be a wondrous delight, yet I'm beginning to wonder if I've 'shot my bolt'.
    Virtually everything I've written has been written during 'bad' times. I wrote to escape the stress. Now I'm not so stressed I'm finding it really difficult to write anything. Dunno. Perhaps worrying about writing is going to stress me out to the degree I come up with a peach (I like peaches).
    Or perhaps I need to change my perspective, somehow .... Or stop whining and just get on with it. ;)
    Rehearsals are okay, but not brilliant. The problem is we're getting so damn fed up with the damn set. I saw Bob Dylan an age ago and never understood why he'd start playing a song - then stop eight bars in and start another one. Now I do. He's probably banished beds made of brass on pain of death. Still, a gig is a gig, and I'm much looking forward to it.
    I hope it doesn't rain.
  22. Camy

    Guffoo

    By Camy,

    Bloody black dog. I can't seem to shake the thing. And me thinking it was all roses. They have thorns, don't you know.
    'Bath Time' is finished, and should be up this weekend, I hope. Like 'Fellow Travellers', it has a pinch of truth swaddled by muse's wanderings. Apropos of nowt: spooge is such a great word!
    'Probisher' is getting longer and longer, and consequently more and more convoluted. I want to write an 'A does this, then that, then a bit of the other ... and finally shags B' Oh, so I have. Neato. Another one to strike off the list.
    Erm ... well then. I'm on a Nutella binge. I can't get enough of it. And milk. Can you drink too much milk, I wonder? I must be on two to three pints a day. I Love it ... and NO health warning, which makes me suspicious. Consumer paranoia, the cat says. Still, what does she know? She likes cream. Tart.
    Seraph. Damn. I knew there was something I should be doing. Can't. Not cooked enough.
    Grasshopper's 'Darkfall' has reached chapter 22, and is brilliant. Brilliant! Ronyx's 'Brittle as a Bird' is good too. Chapter 15 should be released this week.
    We've been rehearsing a lot. There are two of us, as at the moment, neither of us can handle the nightmare politics of a full band. We've pared the material down, and, as well as the rest of the set, we're now playing two tracks with just piano, guitar and voice. One of them is 'Broken Heart' which is sounding better and better each time we play it. When we're ready, we're planning on videoing one of our gigs and putting it on YouTube.
    Ave.
    Camy
  24. Camy

    Happy Holidays!

    By Camy,

    Whatever you happen to call it, may I wish you all a very happy post winter solstice bash. Don't get too drunk, stoned, or whatever ... and if you do, then drink plenty of water before you crash out.
    Hugs!
    Camy

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