Ok. This is the scary bit. I've cheated slightly by putting this directly in to the archive, and I'm not going to link this to anything. I was going to make it an aside, not list it, and link to it when appropriate, but...

I thought about the idea that once things are said in here, a distance is immediately put up between the event and myself. and that is true. I've felt a bit better about some things and other things I haven't really left behind as such but they seem to make slightly more sense to me now. It's fun looking at my life unfold every so often anyway, and you can't deny your history, it either lives in your head or on the page, but if it *does* only live in your head, it's a possibility it becomes too big a deal. The fact that I said long ago that my neck was a source of major psychological screw-up-ing means if something happens with it, I can re-link to that past information, and not have to bother relaying every single bloody thing again.

So I'm prevaricating again. Fuck. Ok. Two major sexual assaults. Basically. that's it. That's my nauseating, gnawing secret, like a pair of ravens those two events live in my head and peck at my soul regularly. One when I was a tail end of teenager, I sort of got over that (ish, but I'm not going in to detail so you can sod off) and another when my (oh the irony is too obvious for words) Ethics Philosophy lecturer decided when pissed and when I was feeling particularly emotionally vulnerable (for one reason and another, long story, another time) that I reminded him of his ex-wife. The small point that he was reaching retirement age was irrelevant, it seems. and if you're wondering how I feel about this particular human, you'll have to excuse the amazement factor when I say that I think I would have actually watched him being killed and done nothing to help. The man was a FUCKING SCUM FUCKER CUNT if you'll excuse my French. I had a breakdown, this that and the other, he ruined my life for about two and a half years and it still comes back now.

Siobhan just reminded me. it's Friday the thirteenth. Hmmm.

1. Friends split up. Ouch. Fuck. Oh. Hope everything's ok, God, that's nasty.
2. Moyra phones. Caroline's booked a ticket back to London. Oh my God. Bloody hell, this is really awful. What the hell is going on. Why won't he tell us what the… this is just stupid. I absolutely have no understanding of this.
3. Kai's Granny died last night. His Dad phoned this morning.

So what else do you want to throw my way, eh? Go on, I can take it you fuckpigs. Any major debilitating diseases you want members of the family to contract? Or why not let one of the cats get mutilated by an amoral teenager, eh?

Cycling. Lungs full of shit, nose full of shit, sound like a twenty a day smoker. But it's good for me though - isn't it? Isn't it? Now I'm up to Stockwell… uh, five miles? Feels like about that much. So that'll be ten miles a day so that isn't too bad I guess. Christ this sounds exciting. OK, well there is other stuff going on, but nothing gossipy, so be prepared. The women's thing is trundling along, so that's sort of weird, you know… having thought of something and now it's happening. Now the other thing I have to get really sorted out is the deaf kids/mentoring scheme thing, and the site with a RV Sign Language dictionary.

The thing about the sign language dictionary is we could actually make it multi-lingual if we had worldwide partners… on a basic level it seems ludicrous to do an online dictionary with video for each word/phrase, if there are two different languages but both use English as the base root. Why not simply have the dictionary, and have links at each word saying "BSL" or "ASL". But we'd need some jolly old US citizens for that one. Anyway. Time to visit the RNID soon and get going with the ideas. Basic problem here is that there is a dictionary. It's a CD Rom and they charge eighty quid a time for it. Good for colleges, schools etc - crap for individuals who might want to learn Sign Language, but who don't know anything about it. If we put a dictionary on the web, it opens up awareness of it, but presumably, the RNID lose a bit of income. Solution = get it sponsored to the hilt. Get every damn company we can think of to supply everything we would need, plus get money from the lottery, European development funds, whatever the hell - far more cash than we could possibly need for it, then give it to the RNID. Because actually doing it, recording it - piece of piss, plus, it's not as if I haven't got people resources to call upon, eh?

Maybe we could get Real Networks to pay for loads of it too, and - I mean, this is what I imagine will happen: we keep all the video on CD's in it's basic digital form, then when whatever the hell updates, we can re-encode the video and keep the whole site up to date. So I guess it might need some dosh for longer term development or something.

Anyway. So those are the two "Sign language derived" ideas so far - the mentor scheme is just a notion, but it seems practical. The Dictionary is something we could put in to development today if we could.

I've bitten my finger-nail down to raw skin so now it hurts when I type. Good move.

Kai looked at me this morning as he was waking up, and said "Corr".

My trousers are slowly becoming too large - but only slowly. There again, that's sort of how I like it.

Had yet another row at work with Mr Arrogant. Mr Arrogant, who I now refuse to talk about difficult issues with face-to-face since he makes me feel like a piece of colourless aspic jelly and I can't argue succinctly as a result, said "If you want to talk face to face with me about this…" no, I don't. Don't you get it?

Been reading "Blackwater", this Swedish novel, translated. It's… good. Translation is a bit odd, but maybe that's how Swedish people talk, who knows.

So anyway, what happened at the beginning of last week was that Carl got his present, liked it, said thanks, I then wrote him back with the as then finished Diary URL. Then five minutes later had the usual panic attack, thinking "oh Christ, what if he thinks it's rubbish… my God, my whole life will be lived in shame" (or words to that effect). So I mailed him again doing a self deprecating trip - usual crap. Nothing. Zero. 2 and a half days of silence. Then Freedonia more or less goes blank. I'm like -uh? One last mail before I shrug my shoulders and think, well, if he's as screwed up as I am, then maybe not talking is a better idea.

Apparently he was just being "cute".

Bastard! How ill equipped to deal with life's stresses am I… do you want it on a scale of 1-10? 45.

Fear and Loathing out in 6 days or summat. Excellent.

Oh yes! And while I was having a sabbatical, I actually managed to finish Wipeout 2097, can you believe it? Now I only need to do "The challenge" - which is proving so miserably hard it's impossible. Fucking good value for money, that game - especially when I didn't even buy it in the first place.

Mortgage hunting and saving is sort of going to plan currently too. We're looking at places in Streatham Hill and they're like - cheap as hell most of them. OK - here's how it works - if we get a mortgage of one hundred thousand, the repayments every month are something like seven-fifty (ouch, but I can subsidise Kai anyway), but we're looking at descriptions of two bedroom places with gardens in that area for like, sixty-five! How shit are those places going to be! Heh - but don't forget, you are talking to wonder-DIY-girly with her very own workman's table with vice, two saws and even a chisel. One day, I'll show you the TV shelf I was so desperately proud of when I built it. It was freakin A and no mistake - although to describe any DIY as that seems a bit pathetic.

Ok. So I lied.
Thank you for being understanding, anyone who is interested. Loads of stuff is suddenly happening. It could be because my kweative energies were forced to look at something else other than myself. Hmm - maybe, maybe not. Where though - on every page? That sux like a pony.

Buy the new Mercury Rev album, it's like fairies and oceans and sparkly things. With guitars. Wonderful.