Restoration

I didn’t catch most of the BBC’s “Restoration” programme – but I did watch the final. I’m really pleased that Victoria Baths in Manchester won the final prize, and I’ll look forward to seeing the final restored result. While I’ve never been – they’ve been closed longer than I’ve been in Manchester, and I was kind of busy during the open day over the weekend- iCandy went for a visit, and also took some photos. The restoration will be an interesting project – I would just hope now that the other finalists will also get funding from other sources, now that their profile has been made a lot higher in the public eye.

And also this weekend, the (equally Mancunian) John Rylands Library closed for two years rebuilding and restoration work. Again, this is somewhere I’ve kept on meaning to go, and simply never got round to. I will when it re-opens in 2005.

Frankly, my dear

So, according to (among many others) the Guardian, Ben Affleck’s dumped J-Lo. Frankly, who cares? Yet it’s the headline on the Sun (I should point out I only know this because the nork in front of me was reading the rag story.), and I assume it’s been the headline on other papers too.

Of course, the irony is that one of the speculated reasons for this “split” is the excessive journalism around their lives and wedding. (Well shit, what did they expect when they became well-known?) And so now the “split” is in every bloody paper. But I still don’t care whether they’re together, single, or even living or dead. And I wonder how many people actually do care, or believe it’s relevant.

Hell is other people

Why is it that when people move house, they turn into people who make Scrooge look like the soul of generosity? When I’ve moved into houses previously, I’ve found that the previous occupants have taken light-bulbs, light-switches – well, electric points in general – and even plumbing sections (i.e. for the washing-machine’s drain-tube). All of which are a pain in the arse. But the ultimate one for pettiness has to be what I discovered in the new place.

The previous occupants had removed – if you’re not sat down, I’d advise doing so now – the co-ax plug from the end of the TV aerial cable. Cost? Less than 50p. What the fuck is the point of that?

Anyway, it’s all fixed now – and no, I won’t be taking it with me when I leave.

Day One

A first day in the new place, and most of it’s been good. I hadn’t realised how constantly stressed I was in the old place, but now those levels have gone. In some ways it’s been draining, or at least the changes have left me feeling drained.

Today’s been a manic day, but in a relaxing way. It sounds paradoxical – hell, it is paradoxical – but while I’ve been bombing round sorting out the alarm system in the old house, doing domestic stuff like shopping, and sorting out things in town. However, at the same time I also was able to take time out, and ended up going to the cinema to (finally) see “Pirates of the Caribbean“. Amazingly dumb film, but I enjoyed it hugely. Every so often, it’s necessary to just sit and be entertained – and I was. No high art – although some stunning effects – a semi-decent storyline, and even *gasp* some decent acting. Oh, and a completely over-the-top set of fights – it was wonderful.

All things considered, I’m happier. There’s a lot of stuff still due to be happening, changes in the pipeline, and still some of a house to be sorted. But yes, I’m happier, and for now that’ll do.

A Moving Experience

And there it was, done. The mad packing of boxes, the hyper-squirrel moments working out how best to get as many things a s possible into boxes and hiding places, and figuring out where it was all going to go in the new place. Done.

Yes, I’m all moved and sorted. In a particularly genius piece of planning I’m off out in an hour to celebrate a friends birthday. I can’t think of a better way to end a moving day – food and booze, and not having to wash it up afterwards.

Always the techie, the laptop is set up and working (No Shit, Sherlock) and the main PC is just about ready to go back into operation. For the moment I’m back on a 56K dial-up connection, although the ADSL is ordered and waiting on lead-times. The plants are out of their boxes and settling into new homes, the beds are re-assembled, although not yet made. The living room might as well be a shanty town, the number of boxes that are still in there, but at the same time the sofas are sorted, and the TV is in place. Tomorrow all the other bits and pieces, the Tivo, the video, the onDigital ITV Digital Freeview box, and the stereo will all be unboxed and set up. But all of it pales into insignificance (well, almost) in comparison to one simple fact – I’m no longer in the house that was burgled twice, broken into by the same little bastard.

The noise levels are different here – it’s a busier road, instead of a purely residential street. I don’t mind traffic noise, in fact I find it almost soothing, the constant influx of white noise, rather than the harsh instrusions of people, scrotty little sods on illegal scooters, and wheel-spinning teenage poseurs in their GTis. It’s a different place, and it feels good to be here – I’ve worked my bits off in the last month to get here, but it seems worthwhile. Already I can feel myself relaxing, settling.

Suddenly, the future seems a lot brighter than it did even a week ago.

Bet it doesn’t get displayed

Over at the inexecrably unpleasant and sycophantic Thank You, Tony, there’s a page for “send your thanks to Tony Blair”. In typical Lyle fashion, this is what has been sent :

Dear Tony,

Thanks for helping your best mate George to kill innocent people in the name of fighting a terrorist enemy in a completely different country.

Your efforts towards stopping the terrorism by getting rid of a dictator who was a thorn in your side, but keff all to do with the perpetrators of 9/11 makes you deserving of many, many awards. Some of the acronyms might even be printable. I would like to personally put you forward for the Congressional Uninational Nominated Treasure award. I’ll let you work out what letters that’d mean you can put after your name.
Sincerely
Lyle

Any money it doesn’t get added to the list – but if it does, you can be sure I’ll tell all. *Grin*

Twunt

Over at Scaryduck, the merchandising bug has hit. Scaryduck mugs are being considered, with a design similar to this:

(Click on the image for a full-size rendition)

I think that every workplace should be introduced to the word Twunt, and as such I’ve also knocked up a simpler, more minimalist design for scary to consider.

If you’re wanting to order them, or even just like the idea, head on over to Scary’s place, and let him know.