Rantings

From the BBC:

Actress Majel Barrett Roddenberry, the widow of Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry, has died aged 76.

She died of leukaemia on Thursday at her home in Los Angeles, her family said in a statement.

The actress, who featured in nearly every Star Trek TV show and film, nurtured the legacy of the sci-fi series after her husband died in 1991.

She recently finished her role as the voice of the USS Enterprise computer in the new Star Trek film, due out in May.

Barrett Roddenberry was involved in the Star Trek universe for more than four decades.

She played the dark-haired Number One in the TV show's original pilot, The Cage, but was recast as the blonde, mini-skirted Nurse Christine Chapel for the series, which launched in 1966.

During this time, she was romantically involved with creator Gene Roddenberry, and the couple married in Japan after the show was cancelled in 1969.

'Vital role'

She went on to play smaller roles in all five Star Trek TV spin-offs and many of the Star Trek movie incarnations. She is perhaps best known, however, as the voice of the ship's computer.

Barrett Roddenberry helped keep the franchise alive by inspiring fans and attending a major Star Trek convention each year.

"My mother truly acknowledged and appreciated the fact that Star Trek fans played a vital role in keeping the Roddenberry dream alive for the past 42 years," her son Eugene Roddenberry Jr said in a statement on the official Roddenberry Web site.

"It was her love for the fans, and their love in return, that kept her going for so long after my father passed away."

The website added that in lieu of flowers, the family have asked for donations be made to two animal rescue charities.

The actress is survived by her only son, Eugene.

A public memorial is expected to be scheduled for sometime after Christmas.

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Well, much to my dismay, my lovely Christmassy template appears to be broken (thanks to Pinksy for bringing this to my attention). The comment box didn't work. Despite everything I do to try to fix it, I obviously don't understand xml well enough to debug the problem, so I have gone for the minimialist look until I can be arsed to figure it out.

http://punditkitchen.com/2008/12/04/political-pict...

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You simply have to go over and have a look! Chortle!

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I have been thinking about this for some time and have suddenly felt the need to share it with the world as I'd be interested in the opinions of others.

People are hunters. That I can accept. We all need to feed ourselves, clothe ourselves, etc. But what I can't get my head around is why it's ok for people to hunt for fun. In the USA hunting season comes along and people go out with bloody great guns and blast stuff to hell for nothing more than bloodthirsty glee. Granted, some don't, they eat what they catch, but some folks simply do it for fun. In the UK we go grouse and pheasant shooting. We still go fox hunting, despite the ban on fox hunting which came into effect in 2005. Why is that ok? If a child takes delight in killing small animals his parents would take him to the doctor. They'd get him to see a child psychologist. Psychopathic killers, from what I have read, typically have a history of torturing small animals as a child. So, as an adult, how much further, mentally, would one have to go before they began killing people for fun?

Before I finish, I'd just like to say, I'm not vegetarian. I like meat. As to whether I could kill my own food ... probably. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy it.

With thanks to MadPriest at OCICBW... for getting me started thinking on this.

Well, I have about 10 minutes to quickly write a few words. I'd just like to start by saying that I am currently using "Write or Die" which is in my opinion a thoroughly scary concept entirely. It makes you continue writing even if you think you have no inspiration by unwriting your words of you stop. This makes you carry on regardless of whether you feel you have anything useful to say. I should give it go if I was you. I stopped writing for a couple of seconds and it turned my screen red and started playing Rick Ghastly to me, which is a horrific punishment for someone like me.

Anyway, I really must get going as I have to be at work in about 20 minutes or so. Give "Write or Die" a go, seriously. You may just find that it will improve your productivity. I may use it in future to keep my blog populated with general blurb.

Here's a word of advice from someone who has just had first hand experience ... do not ever, EVER, get ammonia in your eye.

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It's a week today since I was in hospital having my impacted wisdom tooth removed. Well, true to form I got an infection didn't I? I was in a lot of pain over the weekend, so on Monday morning I went to my dentist and he flushed the socket, packed it and started me on a week's course of antibiotics. I've felt generally unwell since I had the tooth out, but today I appear to have turned a corner. A couple of days of medication and I'm already starting to feel a bit better. Except for one of the sutures which is bugging me. It's obviously causing irritation because the tissue around it is inflamed and painful, but that's nothing compared to what I've put up with since last Wednesday. But, you know, it grinds you down. I've had some pretty horrible painful surgical procedures inflicted on me over the years, and to be honest I'd rather go through all of that again than have my bloody jaw bone drilled into to get tooth out in several pieces. Abdominal surgery? Pah! Piece of cake!

Hospital yesterday. Wisdom tooth. Cut gum. Drilled bone of jaw. Tooth had to be removed in about 4 bits. Face swollen. Hurts to talk. Need painkillers. And chocolate pudding. Kthxbai.

I've just been to Somerfields up the road from where I work to get me lunch. While I was there pondering whether to buy a vegetable samosa from the chilled cabinet, I spotted these:




Notice Roast Flavour Chicken and the picture of what look like twiglets. I was intrigued and decided to give them a try. When I opened the packet, these were inside:



Not what I would call food. Mummified toes, perhaps, but certainly not food. Food looks like food. Meat. Fresh fruit and vegetables. Not toes. Urgh!

I tasted one. Then wished I hadn't. I doesn't taste at all like chicken. In fact it doesn't taste quite like anything I've ever eaten before.

I'm sorry, Mattesson's, but this just doesn't do it for me.

Via Pinksy

It was a pleasant evening last night, so we decided to get the Cobb oven out - besides, we had just had a delivery of Cobblestones and were dying to try them out. I won't go into exactly what we had to eat, except to say that I am rather chuffed in that some of the produce was home grown. I've never grown my own veggies before, so it was a real sense of achievement for me. And delicious, too.

Next year I will definitely be extending my vegetable patch so that we can grow more variety.

I had a few days to recover now from the play, and looking back I am glad it's over, though I enjoyed it immensely. I do think we took on quite a task without realising it several months ago when we voted for Pygmalion as our mid-year play and I'll be the first to say it is not an easy play to learn, even if we are only amateurs. There doesn't seem to be any logical flow to each character's dialogue which makes it very easy to get lost half way through. This happened a few times, but everyone else was brilliant and kept the flow going like they were pros. Tomorrow I believe we will be having the post mortem, so it will be interesting to see what that brings.

Next show: The Christmas pantomime! Yay!

Before you ask, yes I took some photos and shall be taking more this evening. I only have about half an hour to compose this, so I shall try to be quick, as I have to zoom off to the Arts Centre shortly.

Thursday's performance was ok-ish. It would have been tons better if there hadn't been a bus trip of 20-odd biddies from the local old folks home. Not that I have anything against old biddies, bless them, but they apparently had been told by their carers that they were coming to see My Fair Lady and could have a good old singalong to the songs. I shouldn't have been surprised when they old dears started talking amongst themselves in rather loud voices. It was rather offputting, and my poor dad (playing Alfred Dolittle) got lost halfway through a particularly long bit of dialogue, tried to recover himself a couple of times, then froze up and said 'shit' on stage!

Last night was marginally better. At least we had a much better audience who laughed in all the right places. But I forgot my lines last night! LOL Thankfully, they were only a few words I forgot and Matt and John rallied to help me out and keep the flow going. I must must must do better tonight!

After this evening's performance we shall be toodling along to the wrap party, so no photos for you until tomorrow, I'm afraid. And I shall be watching Doctor Who (which I will have recorded from tonight's airing) before I do anything with photos, so you will just have to wait. :-) I have my priorities after all.

Right, I have to go and make sure all my stuff is in the boot of the car before I leave.

Toodle pip, dwarlings! Mwah! Mwah!

Well, it's 10 minutes past midnight and I have just finished the coat for my Mrs Higgins costume. While working, Mr Lisa has helped me go through my lines a few times. I think I just about have Act V off pat now, I just need to revise where I am to be on stage and at which points. Tomorrow we have the final read-through, then we are On stage on Thursday. Oh heck!

I know I promised to post photos but I think it would be better if I post pictures of us all properly dressed up in the green room before the show, so check back!

Wanna come and see it? It's on at the Washington Arts Centre Thursday, Friday and Saturday of this week!

More information here.

Well, that was the last rehearsal I will be attending till next week. Am I nervous? OF COURSE I BLOODY WELL AM!

I am now about to relieve the stress symptoms with a bottle or two of beer.

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The jacket is almost finished as is the skirt (although I didn't make the jacket, but I will be hemming the sleeves and doing the buttonholes).

Pictures to follow tomorrow. Maybe.

Today is going to be busy. We are popping out very shortly to get some plants for the garden, and while Mr Lisa is busy digging out back, I will be attempting to quickly run up the skirt which is part of my costume for the mid year play. Ooooo, it's getting close! And as I still don't know my lines properly I have to rehearse too. If I have time I will also be making a jacket to match the skirt. The blouse is finished. Watch this space as I may be posting pictures of my handiwork soon.

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more cat pictures

more cat pictures

My mam and big sis took me out shopping yesterday. My parents are going to China next week and they are going to be away for my birthday, so yesterday was a birthday present shopping day. Mam bought me a pair of Doc Marten high heeled sandals and sis bought me a pair of purple metallic Doc Marten eight-eyelet boots. Very nice they are too.

But before that, we went to a restaurant on High Bridge in Newcastle called Flatbread Cafe which was yummy and quite an experience. I ordered a bottle of Cannabia Hemp Lager which was quite tasty, and the food was all served in little dishes and no cutlery was provided - you just have to pick the food up using chunks of flatbread which is served warm to your table. The menu features dishes from all over Asia, such as China, India, Malaysia, Thailand, etc, and everything we ordered was utterly scrumlicious, so get yourself along there!

http://revjph.blogspot.com/2008/04/devil-behind-eyes.html

OK, the truth about the weekend. It wasn't so fantastic for me.

Firstly I have a virus which is making me tired and achy with a slightly upset stomach and mouth ulcers, so that put a bit of a damper on things to start with.

Secondly, I've been thinking too much. Before you laugh let me explain. I am a thinker. Always have been. Sometimes this has been overwhelming and when it gets out of hand it almost always makes me feel sad. That is until something inside me clicks and tells me it's time to start writing it all down, because that helps me to put all of my thoughts in order and make some sense of it all, then I feel a million times better.

So, I'm writing it all down, and I'm making no secret about what I write as I feel complete transparency is important.

There are those people who just get on. They don't have to try, they simply function in the world, like they are a piece of a great big jigsaw. Then there are those of us who feel like the spare piece that doesn't seem to fit in anywhere.

I am one of the latter. I know I am not alone, either, so some of you reading this will understand.

Ever since I can remember, I had difficulty relating to people. I would say something which to me seemed perfectly reasonable but I'd end up with my mother or someone else jumping down my throat for being rude or annoying. I always seemed to say the wrong thing. Or do the wrong thing. Or waffle on too much. Or whatever. It was the same at school. I was laughed at for being the gawky one with glasses, then it was for being the brainbox. Without trying I seemed to naturally learn stuff easily like I was a sponge and I was bullied for that.

Eventually I learned that it was safest not to say or do anything at all. I became wallpaper. I didn't want to be noticed. The world was a hostile place and I didn't know who to survive in it. I began to play truant from school. I wouldn't go out with my classmates when they met after school. I stayed in my bedroom and read, or drew pictures, played music or whatever.

The attitudes of the other girls at school used to fascinate me. They used to talk about clothes and makeup and boys, which to me seemed so completely boring and superficial I used to try to work out why they did it. They'd backstab each other, and bitch about "her in class J2", and I used to think "Why do they say those things? What is the point? What do they get out of it? What are they feeling to make those words come out of their mouths?"

In the end I decided I'd probably never know. But this inability to understand people hurt me badly. Without being able to analyse it, I grew up simply feeling inadequate. An underachiever. I was afraid to have an opinion, to voice a thought, to behave in a way which felt comfortable to me, and I grew into an adult who lived under the constant stress of having to observe people intently in order to tailor my own behaviour to make me fit in. I tried to be uber-polite and it made me weak.

I am now living proof that nobody can live their life like that indefinitely. I became clinically depressed but tried to continue to function the way I always had and in my early thirties I had a complete breakdown. I was suicidal. I began to behave in completely weird and abnormal ways. I had become detached from reality in a way that I guess would be diagnosed as a psychosis. I was prescribed drugs, counselling, and whatever else was available on the NHS but nothing had a lasting effect.

That is until I met N. N is the psychotherapist who completely turned my life around. Very early on in my therapy he advised me to stop taking my drugs, and this was a major breakthrough. It wasn't until then that I realised that years of taking them only took the edge off my angst by numbing my brain and stopping me from actually thinking about things. Suddenly I was able to think clearly and with his expert guidance I was able to explore my own experiences and emotions and begin to make sense of them. He made me realise that, in fact there is a place for everybody, and that it would be just as valid to argue that it is everybody else who simply don't understand me.

This came as a complete revelation to me and was a significant milestone in my life. As you can probably guess, some of these major mental breakthroughs were very recent, and I feel as though certain patterns are shifting and rearranging themselves in my head.

So, to everyone who was there: I apologise to you all for getting suddenly drunk and blabbing about all the stuff that had been consuming my thoughts, it wasn't really appropriate pub talk. You know what I am talking about. If you don't, you weren't there. And I now know why I've been feeling so down all weekend.

To Sarah: who once told me that there are no 'normal' and 'abnormal' people, but that there are 'ordinary' and 'extraordinary' people. And there is a quiet pride in being extraordinary. Thank you.

To Graham: Maybe I don't get it, but every day I battle low self confidence and low self esteem. I just need a bit of encouragement.

To Tori: For allowing me to feel like a person rather than a weirdo and enabling me to give 'it' a name in public and to talk about Asperger's without me feeling like I need to keep 'it' secret.

To Julie: For being a calming influence and making me think sensibly.

To Ian: For being there to support and care for me. I love you.

We all have bad times. This was one of mine.

On Saturday morning there was a dedication to Sophie Lancaster, the young woman who was kicked to death by young thugs because of the way she was dressed last year. It was held at the bench that was installed last year, and I was expecting a small personal affair, but when we got there, there were literally hundreds of people there. Ade Varney gave a beautiful gentle speech, and then Sophie's mum, Sylvia Lancaster said a few words.



There were television cameras there I couldn't really get very close, so I just waited patiently for it to finish and for everyone to place their flowers on the bench and table in front, and then I took a couple of snaps to remember it. Mr Varney had painted a lovely picture of Sophie. I'm not very good at expressing myself, but I can say that I was quite touched by the whole thing.





Of course, today the boys were sentenced for her murder, and I think we're all pretty pleased with their sentences. Let us hope that this sets a precedent and any other narrow minded bigots following their story will take heed.

Yes, we had a good time, thanks. It involved lobsters ...












... cyberlox and pvc ...










... chicken jambalaya and champagne ...












... and future gay icons (aka my husband, Mr Lisa)!















So, yes, we had a grand time, thanks!

Amazing news from the BBC!

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My dog is the only one I know that hockles. (For a Geordie translation of hockle, ask me!)

... courtesy of Phil ...




Aladdin And The Magic Lamp Panto

Via Of Course I Could Be Wrong ...

Oh no it isn't!!

Hello there boys and girls. Are you having a good time?!

Ahem. Sorry. Ok, I suppose I really should put my thoughts down about this whole panto thing if only for my own personal use as I will no doubt have forgotten the whole experience this time next year, most probably because I will be already involved in some way with WTGs next pantomime production.

Well. Last week was ... stressful to say the least. Not only because I was extremely nervous and didn't believe that I would be able to remember my lines but I also had some personal issues which made coping all the more difficult. This was my first ever appearance on stage and I was scared beyond belief. Add to that the pressure of making sure I was in the right place at the right time with the right props and saying the right things and I was a gibbering mess. Dry mouth, weak knees, heart thumping, the lot. Then there was this other issue in which I am not going into detail, and I just wanted to scream at a certain someone.

Anyway, I coped. Someone told me a couple of weeks ago of a friend of his who used to throw up before every performance, but reckoned that the payoff was worth it ... the buzz he felt when the audience clapped and cheered as the curtain went down. Imagine how disappointed I was last week when all I felt was relief that it was all over. Three performances in one weekend, and I felt completely mentally and physically exhausted.

So, after 5 days to digest all that had happened during that time and I was resolved to make sure I was not going to get stressed before the show. After all, the first three performances went ok, so I just had to convince myself that it would be a breeze this weekend. Not as easy as it sounds.

Still, I had my cue notes more organised than the week before and I really found it easier to get into the character. My props were in order and I was ready to go. And I must say it went well. Everyone acted brilliantly, especially the four main characters (Genie Djinn, Carpet, Aladdin and Abanaza [boo, hiss]) who I thought were just perfect, they made the whole show thoroughly entertaining. After all, you need more than a great script to make a great show. It also helps if you have a great audience, and yesterday's matinee was a pure joy to hearthe children cheering and shouting and booing and hissing in all the right places.

And did I get that buzz I was hoping for? You bet I did. I was on a total high last night. So, while Mr Lisa sent our buddies from the audience into the bar and helped clean up the auditorium for me, I got changed quickly, put on a bit of makeup and did my hair and off out we went to Rock with Ramrod's first rock night of the year, to catch the last couple of hours. I danced my socks off and feel thoroughly worn out this morning, but I haven't laughed and danced and enjoyed myself so much in a long time.

Unfortunately, I now need some painkillers for my oomehead that's coming on, but I suppose that's the price we pay for having a good time. :-)

It would appear that Will Smith has become a Scientologist.

I'm too tired and stressed to even think of a witty comment, so I shall leave that pleasure to you, my reader(s).

Via Pinksy

Eeek!

Only 4 days away. The pantomime. I'm nervous to say the least. Very nervous. I have had only one complete run through on Thursday, then one more this Thursday after which I am expected to know all my cues, the song, the dance, etc, and after that we go on stage for real Friday night.

Oh [insert deity of preference here]!!

Saturday and Sunday we did a bit of promotion with a board and handing out flyers, the second day in full costume, which was fun. Hopefully we'll get a few more in the audience through that.

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Now then. Whitby.

At the New Year celebrations I mentioned that I had had a pretty horrible hen night. I mean we went out for a meal, the service at the restaurant was not very good, everyone was miserable, some people left early and I ended up picking up the tab for them, and we were home by about 10:30pm. :-( Pretty shit really.

So, while me and the gang were in Shambles, somebody (don't know who, think it was a group thing) decided I should have another hen night at Whitby Gothic Weekend in April. Involving pink glittery cowboy hats to which Tori offered to attach some cyberlox or provide said lox for me to do my own stuff. Heh!!

Where to obtain pink glittery cowboy hats? Well, I've found sets of 10 on eBay quite reasonably, so I'll probably get them from there.

Anybody else got gimmicky ideas to add to the overall effect? All suggestions welcome.

Wow!

What a great weekend! Started it with Friday night at Persecution in Stockton, followed by All About New Year's Eve in Whitby for four nights to see the New Year in.

A truly wonderful time spent with good friends in a wonderful town having a fabulous time celebrating the end of the old year and the start of the new.

Many thanks to everyone who helped make me feel like 'somebody' instead of 'nobody' (especially to Sarah who really does understand).

Big hugs to Tori and Andy (what a nice bloke!), Sarah, Rick the Vic (aka Richard), Ian, Bugle Boy (aka Spike/Graham/Mayhem750 *delete as appropriate), Geoff, Graham and Sandra & Rachel.

And to finish the whole thing off, Ian sets fire to the oven while trying to make bacon sandwiches for our breakfast, for which he will never be allowed to forget. His signature song is now 'Firestarter' and he will henceforth be known as Burnie.

Other new nickanmes coined over the past four days are Rick the Vic and Bugle Boy. I will let them choose whether they want to explain those ones!! LOL