Alien Spouse

House of Half Recovered.

Mum called today to check how we were because I hadn't updated the blog, sorry about that! I wasn't trying to leave you on a cliff-hanger there!

Anyway, Doc C went to hospital yesterday afternoon, after going white as a sheet and generally scaring the hell out of me. He'd already been given some tramadol, so he could still feel the pain but he just didn't really mind that much. This apparently was what stopped him from screaming, so I'm really quite grateful to the urgent care doctor he saw on Friday.

At the hospital he had a whole bunch of tests, and they eventually decided he must have already passed the stone, so he came home. Woot!

Meanwhile, I stayed at home, because my sinuses are still swollen and I'm breathing through my mouth, so it seemed like a bad idea to expose me to more germs. This meant I spent the afternoon watching a reality TV show marathon, because all the episodes blend into one after a while and it feels like you've only been on the sofa for an hour instead of four or five. Don't worry though, I kept it classy; it was about a tattoo parlor in NYC, no bickering over-privileged "housewives" for me thanks! (I'm a reality snob, but I'm very idiosyncratic in my prejudices - Jersey Shore = under no circumstances; Bethany Getting Married = hell yeah, despite her former housewife status)

Oh, by the way, I'm having ridiculously complicated nightmares (teeth falling out, exams I've forgotten to revise for, horrible murders etc etc) whilst I'm ill, whereas Doc C's painkillers are an opiate so he's been having lovely dreams. Apparently for the past two nights in a row now he's had the same dream, where he is professing his undying love to me. How sweet is he?

4 Dance.

Students are always losing stuff, usually water bottles, books or coats, and this particular note must have fallen out of someone's bag when they were in my office.

I think it must be a comment card for a dance class, but I'd love to think that there is some random person wandering around in nightclubs (not that we have any night clubs here - that's where this daydream really loses touch with reality) and critiquing their fellow clubbers.

Either way I'm keeping this on my desk in case the student who dropped it comes back for it. If it were me I'd want documented evidence of my excellent lip syncing skills.

Women's Trouble.

Being a woman sometimes is not much fun, this morning I had to call (well, e-mail) in sick with period pains. And then I slept until 12. I got up had a shower, made some porridge and a spinach smoothie and settled in to watch some trashy television. Edith joined me and acted as a hot water bottle for me, which was very thoughtful of her.

Doc C was at a seminar all day, but he texted me to check how I was through out the day and came home at 4. He made me a cup of tea, and then I went back to bed for three hours. I had loads of very vivid dreams, and as ever they had really complicated plots and very odd bathrooms (eccentric plumbing is one of the ways I know I'm asleep, I have no idea why that would be).

So today has been mostly really weird dreams and cheesy TV. Woot.

I Dream of Germs.

Last night I dreamt that I felt really ill, and was trying to decide if I felt well enough to go into the office. It was very confusing to wake up feeling totally healthy.

Anticipating warm weather I got dressed in capris, a t-shirt and a thin cardigan; I was just putting on my shoes when Doc C told me it was actually going quite chilly. So then I had to get changed in about thirty seconds flat before we left the house.

That was still the best way round for doing things, I'd much rather be healthy and somewhat warmly dressed in jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt and a cotton blazer.

However, I didn't know the central heating was turned off over the weekend, so it was bloody freezing. Hopefully tonight I will dream a pattern for really warm socks that can be knitted up very quickly.

Catday.

I am delighted to be able to report that Ruby is fine. The first thing the vet did was check her teeth, and she has gingivitis; so she's probably been avoiding eating because her gums are sore and that has run her down. Poor cat! I thought her breath was terrible, but I didn't realise that was the main thing that was wrong with her. I held Ruby whilst the vet took her temperature, so she wouldn't associate Mum with that indignity. The vet gave her two injections (which she hated), and prescribed some pills for her to be given. I'm already playing the bad guy, what with the trimming of claws yesterday and the holding down at the vets today, so I shall probably give her the pills as well. May was well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, I s'pose.

We dropped Ruby off back at home, and went into Norwich so I could take a skirt back to M&S that I bought in the haze of the fifty percent sale. This time I tried on a white skirt with blue and indigo bird silouhettes on it, and two pairs of lovely shoes embellished with gorgeously shiny beads; they were very tempting but I decided that they weren't really the best use of my limited suitcase space - so I resisted. sigh. Being a grown up is very tedious.

Marks and Spencer's food hall is the stuff of dreams, my actual dreams when I'm back in NC and just a pleasantly euphoric bubble of browsing now I can really truly visit one. For starters they have supplied the Battenberg Cake I've been craving, and that will be sliced up tomorrow to star in a very special photo shoot with a cup of tea. As if that were not enough they have all of the Easter and Mother's Day chocolate and cakes out now, and they are adorable. For example it is simply ridiculous how cute this white chocolate Hello Kitty is -

Her dress is made from SPRINKLES. Look at that! I'm smitten.

After getting sandwiches from M&S (Prawn for me), we went to John Lewis and I spent a good deal of time stroking all of the yarn. It is a magnificent selection of colours and textures at very very reasonable prices. I was most tempted by a gorgeous merino wool in what can only be described as a Bagpuss colourway, maybe that would be fun to make into a fake fox stole? Or would that be weird? Hmmm...

 

The Reading Room.

There aren't quite enough books on those shelves, the walls should be white with an accent wall in whatever colour I fancy that day, the rug should be a nice fluffy sheepskin and I'd really prefer the hanging chair to be an oversized Eero Aarnio bubble chair; but otherwise this is an uncannily accurate representation of the room I daydream about.

Image via bookshelfporn.com

Hey Kids - What Time Is It?

The time change has confused me this week far more than it should have done.  I'm getting super tired by 10, which makes sense because just last week that would have been 11 and that's when my body is used to turning off "Top Chef - Just Desserts" and gong to bed.  However I'm then sleeping until 6:15 still, which should feel like 7:15, but mysteriously does not.  I feel like someone's stealing an hour of my evening!  It's so unfair, I was expecting to feel like I was better rested damn it!

Actually last night was particularly bad because, some time after we went to bed and turned off the lights, Edith brought one of her toys into our room to play with.  This is very sweet, but she somehow manages to make a hell of a racket whilst chasing a small green ball around the room.  Doc got up and threw the ball downstairs for her to chase.  So she just tore around down there for a bit, but that's carpeted so it's less noisy than the sound of claws on wooden floors.

***SLEEP***

Then my alarm clock didn't go off this morning, probably because the batteries had run out at 2:30.  So then we were just scrambling to get ready on time.

Oh, and when I put my boots on I found Edith's ball nestled between them.  She'd brought it back up to us.

Countdown to Halloween: Seventeen Days

I love spooky house silhouettes!

Actually I've been trying to find a less exaggerated version, that I could adapt to look more like an English country house, so that I could finally get round to making that "A Gift from MANDERLAY" t-shirt I want.

 

Dream Art.

Last night I had really vivid dreams, one of them was about sleep over art exhibitions.  In my dream you would go to the art and sleep right underneath it, so there were beds set up in art galleries and museums, as well as in offices with great corporate art collections.

It was a very relaxing and beautiful dream.

Dream Manicurists.

I've had two nights in a row of dreaming about finger nails in one way or another, which is weird.  

• In Tuesday's dream they were the ruby studded fake finger nails of Henry the Eighth, and I noticed one was missing.  It turned out that the Left Hand Ring Finger Nail was plotting a coup d'etat, and it was hiding in a tent.  
• Last night I had a dream about Freddy Krueger, except it wasn't scary.  Freddy was doing a series of readings at the local theatre, so we went to hear him.  It was sort of how I imagine Dickens readings were staged, but obviously with more potential for gore.  Not long into the reading Freddy noticed a very young girl in the front row was becoming distressed, so he took off his hat and razor glove and toned the whole thing down.  It was very sweet.  At the end of the reading Freddy was saying goodbye to everyone in the audience individually, I went to shake his hand, but then I noticed it was bandaged quite heavily so I just waved, said "Thanks for scaring me as a kid!" and left.

Contingency Plans.

I've noticed that the walk-in cupboard where we drop off and collect the mail has a lock on the inside.  In the event of an emergency, I could therefore nip along my secret passage, pausing only to pick up the key to the "mail room" (It's a largish cupboard with shelves, but we call it the mail room), and hide in there.

This is unlikely for two main reasons; firstly, I have never yet had to hide in the event of an emergency at work and, secondly, because there is an exit from the building a mere hundred yards further down the hall, so it would seem more sensible just to get out all together than to lock myself in a very small room with no other means of exit.  I suppose in the event of a zombie attack I might not want to go outside, but still a cupboard seems to be a very short term solution to that issue.

Still, it's good to know that the cupboard would be fairly secure; as long as none of the other key holders were bitten, or turned out to be the psycho killer or something.  Hmmm, that would be at least three points against it as a hiding place then, it's not ideal really.

These are the things I think about on just an ordinary working day, can you imagine what it's like in my head after I've watched a horror movie?  Good grief!

Inglorious Dream.

We watched "Inglorious Basterds" last night, because somehow we hadn't seen it at the cinema when it came out and it seemed perfect for a paper Doc is writing.  I liked it a lot, however it is really quite a violent film.  I know, I know, a violent Tarantino film?  How shocking!

Unusually for me, the screen violence led me to have a nightmare where I murdered someone, in retrospect in a manner very similar to the film, and spent the rest of the dream on the run and on edge.  There was a funny part to the dream though; after I'd killed my victim, I ran off to find my Christmas presents and I opened them early.  They hadn't even been gift wrapped yet, that's how prematurely I opened them.

Isn't that weird?  Clearly my subconscious thinks opening your presents early is a really bad thing to do.

Umbrellas and Indoor Picnics.

I didn't have unsettling dreams about the North Pole or re-animated corpses, but I did spend an inordinate amount of dream time looking for an umbrella with a green handle and a cream canopy with a photo of something glamorous printed on it.  It was quite a specific dream, in that the umbrella was mine and I knew I'd left somewhere at a sort of nightclub-slash-health-spa, which was haunted, naturally.  I found lots of other umbrellas, but I specifically wanted mine so I just kept searching all night.  This may well have something to do with the event I'll be working today.

It's a picnic for 450 people that I organised, and originally intended to host on the lawn outside our dorm building, but then had to move it to an indoor location because of the high probability of rain.  Except the indoor location got the date for the booking wrong, and called me last weekend asking we were.  So I'm a bit nervous.  What with the Chancellor of the University coming to this event, and last week having been just so fabulous.  Oh, and I have to wear the department's logo on a T-shirt too, so there will be no chance of flying under the radar at all.

A Good Night's Sleep and A Desk Fan. That's ALL I Want. sigh.

The weather is getting warmer, and I now spend most of my lunch hour curled up on the sofa in Doc's office because I'm not sleeping enough during the night, and when I do I'm having exhaustingly hectic dreams.  Now that I am relying on this seista more and more I tried to convince my manager that we should swap Doc's two seater sofa for one of our offices three seaters, but she didn't go for it.  Ah well, I somehow manage to squish myself into the small space and I usually fit in a nice half hour zizz most days.

Tonight we are going to try sleeping on a futon mattress on the living room floor, which should be a lot cooler, because we'll be right in front of the balcony screen door.  I have no idea what the cats will make of this.

My other problem is that my office has no air conditioning at all, so I am totally reliant on wide open windows and that is just not enough on some days.  Last week I ordered a small desk fan, and I've started obsessively checking the FedEx delivery tracker.  I just cannot wait to have a gentle breeze at my command when I'm at work.  Imagine that.  sigh.  It's also my first purchase from "Woot!", which essentially sells one item cheaply for one day only (there's also "shirt.woot!", which sells t-shirts and "wine.woot!" which sells, well, wine on the same principle), it was actually a third of the price of exactly the same fan on Amazon and that is including the delivery fee.  It's also going to be cherry red, which is particularly pleasing.

Alarmingly Routine.

Doc and I have very different approaches to waking up during the week. 

• My alarm clock goes off first, and that starts with the charming sound of birdsong, followed by a witty morning greeting from Stephen Fry, before the beeping part of the alarm goes off.  I then doze for fifteen minutes, before my iPod chimes in with a lovely harp playing scales at which point I get up (or I check my e-mail and web comics).  I find this combination of sounds wakes me up gently but reliably and I quite often start the day with a smile.
• Doc's phone has a horrible klaxon sound, which is the sound he has chosen to jolt him awake.  He then hits snooze and it goes off again five minutes later.  I'm already downstairs eating breakfast by this point, but I'm pretty sure he then swears and hits snooze again.  Sometimes he'll also then have the phone's marimba ring tone go off, which is much more fun but still really loud and abrupt.  Doc hates waking up, and so he finds this barrage of loud obnoxious sounds to be the most effective means of forcing himself to face the day.

Very different approaches.

We do agree on a couple of points, however, for example that we do not wake up before 6 on a work day.  That's just wrong and unnecessary when you only live ten minutes away from the office.  Another thing we concur on is that having a ten pound weight dropped onto our tummies is a particularly unpleasant way to greet the day.

I just wish we could explain these two vital points to Edith.

Last night we had to leave the bedroom door open because it was too warm in our room, and we needed to get the air circulating.  Nancy immediately came upstairs, found a comfy place on the floor, tucked her paws under herself and proceeded to face-plant quietly.  Edith?  Nothing is ever that easy with Edith.  She started off sitting on my bedside table, watching me closely whilst blithely shoving things on to the floor.  If I moved and/or brought a hand out from under the covers, Edith would purr loudly and fawn all over me.  If I didn't move for any period of time, she would check me for a pulse.  Well, it was actually the cat equivalent, which involved pawing at me until I woke up and fussed her.  This began to bore her after an hour or two, so she ran downstairs for a while and tore around like a mad thing, before racing back up to our room and mewing plaintively.  We discovered in the morning that she had brought up one of her tinsel balls and put it into Doc's shoe, that must have been what she was trying to tell us.

At around four she launched her main assault, which was her classic technique of cantering back and forth across the bed at stomach level; until I got out of bed, scooped her up and ushered her gently out of the room. Doc and I were both shattered today, but I think the worst part was that we had known that is what she was going to do before we even tried to sleep.  And she'll probably do it again tonight. 

Stupid cat.

The Heart of Glass Hotel and Restaurant.

I had a dream last night that I was in a big city (a cross between New York & London) and staying in a fantastic hotel run by Deborah Harry. I was quite disappointed when I woke up to realise that such a hostelry does not, in reality, exist.

Because it was the best hotel ever ever ever!

The Difference Between Reality and Imagination.

I didn't go to this exhibition, but I really liked the banner for it.

Of course I mainly didn't go because I would only have been disappointed if the jellybean children weren't skipping around in a circle to the beautiful sound of the butterflies singing.

Linkings.

I have some exciting new additions to the links category in the sidebar, which I'd like to bring to your attention.

First of all I added Mental_Floss a few weeks ago, and I think it's a very interesting web destination.  It's full of great nuggets of geekitude, with some fun quizzes.  You can easily convince yourself that it is in fact educational, and it must be helpful for your Trivial Pursuit or pub quiz scores.

I also recently discovered Questionable Content, via Cuteoverload (I don't need to link to that do I?  It has to be in your favourites, and it's in the sidebar anyway), which is a web comic.  I first visited on February 26, and I finished reading my way through the complete archives about a week later.  This is an archive of 1362 posts, representing a new strip every weekday since 2003 and it may be addictive.

Most important of all is Brokeback Monkey, which is written by someone who I may possibly think is one of the loveliest and most talented people I know.  I will warn you though, he's just started posting installments of a short story. and the prologue gave me very surreal dreams about a sinister inner city windmill.  Like you do.

Her Morning Elegance.

I know that many many blogs are linking to this video, but I thought it was something my Mum would enjoy so I am linking to it as well.

Accessorised.

David went with recreating the sleepwalking scene, but with a totally illogical bloody dagger and a coronet. 

Having said that, I suppose if anyone would go to sleep with a lethal weapon and some bling it would be Lady Macbeth.

I also restyled the hair, because the bouffant was apparently reminiscent of Sarah Palin.  Which was not what I was going for at all.

You Get a One-Way Ticket on the Ghost Train.

NaBloPoMo!  Go! Go! Go!

Yes it's National Blog Posting Month, and since Edith rampaged around the house at top volume until I got up to play with her, I may as well post.

The Ghost Train was SO much fun last night! The weather was perfect for being at an amusement park after dark; it was crisp and clear so you could see all the stars, and there was just enough of a nip in the air for hot chocolate to seem a very attractive prospect. When we arrived the car park was only about half full, which boded well, and it turned out that there really weren't that many people there (which I suspect was because of the big football game at the University; which was televised and which we won by a ridiculously huge margin).  This meant we could whizz around the park going on all of the rides, and didn't spend most of the evening waiting in queues.

We went on the Ghost Train first, and Jasmin established a pattern for the evening by being so easy to spook and make scream that the costumed staff wouldn't leave her alone.  It was hilarious!  I do have to admit that, although I am assured I did not actually scream, one of the werewolves did get a definite jump out of me.  As I suspected the Ghost Train is about 50% more effective when there is no-one on board with a torch (American translation: Flashlight), shining it out so you can see exactly where you are and what's going on around you.  It was just much more atmospheric and spooky.

After surviving the Ghost Train trip through Werewolf country we watched the Main Street Dancers for a while, until they were about to segue from "Thriller" to the "Macarena"; at which point we went to buy funnel cake, and catch the ski lift to the top of the mountain.  We went straight onto the Tunnel of Terror, and I have to say I thought the Mad Butcher's heart just wasn't in it last night, maybe it's not so much fun if there aren't crowds of people, but he didn't bother trying to make anyone scream and didn't get on our train so he could menace us with chainsaws in the Tunnel itself.  We did still get a great scream from Jasmin, when something animatronic leapt out at her.  David and Doc C were almost crying with laughter by the time we got off.

Another good thing about going in a large group was that there was always someone willing to do whatever you felt like next, so David and I rode the Scrambler (one of those really rickety looking funfair rides that throws you around at high speeds), whilst everyone else watched and made rock signs at us whenever we were thrown towards them.  That was a great ride, not least for the excellent choice of music "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult!  Nice!

We also rode the Tilt-and-Whirl, walked through the 3D maze and the Black Hole, which were all things I hadn't done before.  The Black Hole is very odd, it's a walkway through a spinning tunnel of lights, which doesn't sound like much but your body see the movement and tries to compensate by making you lean so you end up throwing yourself against the hand rail, and staggering along.  We went through that twice!

I am very proud to say that this time I felt brave enough to finally go into the Haunted House and it was really fun.  We were all very nervous (except, obviously, for Doc C who just finds such things hilarious).  It was really cleverly done, so when you first arrived it was a hotel reception area, and I did not hear a word of what the man there was telling us, so I don't know if there was any sort of clear narrative to the house or if it was just a series of grand guignol vignettes.  From the reception we were ushered into a lift with a mad ghost bell hop, and that just shook us about whilst the bell hop laughed, and then were let out the other side to continue the tour.  It's sort of a blur because as a group we just decided to rush through, with ever-one holding hands like a crocodile of small children.  I forget what order it all came in but I know there was a girl covered in cobwebs screaming for help; a giggling lunatic; a very grumpy looking girl with a knife, a pram with something nasty in it and bloody eyes; a mad scientist in a bio hazard suit who had the only well lit room so we could fully appreciate the twitching bodies; a mad electrician (I think, there were sparks involved) who threw a switch and set off an electric chair with someone convulsing in it and then finally some sort of enormous demon thingy who followed us right up to the door.  It was really really fun!

We then went back to Main Street to take photos posing on the life size plastic horses before we left.  We actually left forty minutes earlier than Doc C and I did on our previous visit, but because it was so quiet we actually had packed in a lot more to our visit. 

My verdict: Two thumbs up, an excellent way to spend Halloween.

Boo!

I've had a lovely Halloween so far!  I re-deployed all of the decorations from last nights Dorm of Doom, so we had a nice scary office; and I've inherited the Fortune Teller's magic 8 ball, which perfectly matches the rest of my black and white office stationary.

Tonight we are going to the Ghost Train again, but this time we are going with a group of friends.  It started with just one other person, and has grown to six.  Mostly it's faculty from the Philosophy and English departments, but we do have an intrepid teenager coming too despite the distinct possibility that we will be very nerdy.

I don't really have a costume as such, I couldn't think of anything warm enough but still fun. In the end my solution was to just pile on the eyeliner, put too much product in my hair, accesorise with as many skull based things as I own, and go as "A thirty year old woman who thinks she can get away with being a bit Emo".  I have no doubt it will be the scariest costume of the evening!

p.s. I'll be skipping the photo post for today, because I'm hoping to have a lot from the Ghost Train to post tomorrow!

Things That Go Bump in the Night.

Tonight the students who live in the dorms above my office were staging Dorm of Doom, in the lobby of our offices.  I helped them set it all up this afternoon, then I came back to take some photos and listen to the creepy stories about the building.  The tableaux worked pretty well, and I was really pleased with how much fun the performers seemed to be having.  The evil scientist hadn't known that she needed to bring a costume, so I cut an apron out of a paper table cloth, and then we splattered it with red food dye.  It looked horrible effective, particularly when paired with the brain in a jar (or, maybe, it was actually cauliflower floating in red water).

I was really pleased that a lot of the students who came for the ghost stories had come in their Halloween costumes and they had a costume contest which was really fun.  In third place was a very good home-made Anne Boleyn costume, in second place was Alf Alfa and the winning costume was essentially a hospital gown worn over the top of a paper mache bottom.  Apparently the winner had been crafting the bum for weeks, and it was really effective.

After the prizes had been given out, and everyone had got their hot chocolate the ghost stories began. 

The stories that explain the origin of the ghost are pretty much the old stand-by creepy story about a girl who fell hopelessly in love with a professor, and then killed herself.  There is a delightful variation involving an unplanned pregnancy, but generally the message is "Don't have sex kids!", as with all classic slasher movies.  My favourite part was the repeated assertion that the building was so old, my guess is that it was built in the fifties at the earliest, but there was talk of the civil war!  Not to mention that apparently our building was built in the centre of a pentagon!  Good thing it wasn't built in the middle of a dodecahedron, eh?

Halloween Records. Want!

I was thrilled when I saw these in a record shop window the other day.  They are, respectively, the soundtrack to the classic vampire time-travel soap opera "Dark Shadows" (I've only seen the remake, but I have heard tales of the originals genius) and a sound effects LP full of bloodcurdling! Terrifying!  Horrific!  "Sounds to Make You Shiver".

As it happens Doc C had the sound effects album as a kid and loved it, which explains a lot about his lack of reaction to horror movies.  I also know someone in London who would probably love the "Dark Shadows" soundtrack on CD, but I doubt an LP would survive the journey, even if he had a record player to spin it on.

I also can only apologise for the glare, Picnik helped dissipate the worst of it but I was craning around a rack of second-hand coats and just could get the right angle to eliminate the glare from the sun altogether.

Ghost Train: Werewolf Edition.

We went to the Ghost Train last night, and it was really fun!  I didn't take any pictures, because we may well go again with some friends of ours so there is the opportunity to get some good action shots.

This year's theme was werewolves, so as you were riding through the dark sections of the wood there were pairs of red eyes in the trees watching you.  Of course they were really red LEDs but it was surprisingly spooky.  Naturally there were also a couple of werewolf ambushes on the train which were very fun!

We also went on the Tunnel of Terror, which is the much smaller train ride.  This year whilst we were queuing there was a man in a blood spattered apron wandering around terrorising the people waiting.  He discovered that the two women in front of us (both a bit older than the rest of the crowd, and they looked so sensible!) were easily surprised into screaming, so he got into the carriage with us.  By the end of the ride all he had to do was look at them, and there would be screams followed by shrieks of laughter.

My top tip for if you' are at all nervous at one of these things, and don't want to be bothered by the staff in scary costumes is to make eye contact with them and generally look relaxed and happy.  They are looking out for specific body language so they are going to target the people who cower away from them, because that's where they will get the best screaming, which, after all, is the whole point.  So sit up straight and smile, you will be fine!

Monday. Ugh.

Today was fairly awful, for boring work related reasons for me, but I found that pretty much everyone else was having a bad day too.  It seems to me that ever since I heard that Paul Newman had died, everything has just been wrong.  For example Jason e-mailed to say that he had got home ok, but his suitcase hadn't.  Again.  What is it with Delta, and the inability to fully co-ordinate a change of flight?  I haven't heard the suitcase's full itinerary yet, but I expect you will be seeing Jason's first book "Places My Suitcase Has Been Without Me" in airport bookshops in time to catch the summer tourism trade next year.

However today I did discover what could well be the perfect alarm clock; I currently use the alarm feature on my phone, but it literally scared me awake last week (I sat bolt upright and whimpered according to Doc C.  I dispute the whimpering) and I hate it.  I've been thinking that I really needed to buy a good alarm clock as an alternative, and whilst looking for one I stumbled across the website to the Voco.  It has a voice chip in it loaded with 150 different phrases read by Stephen Fry in Jeeves mode, and that sounds to me to be the most delightful way to be awakened.  If you don't want to buy the clock itself, you can also just download the phrases and a bit of software and it will play through your iPod instead.  There are different versions for Sir and Madam, as well as a Horoscope and Bible version (Stephen Fry doesn't do the Bible one though, which I was quite glad about actually).

 

I Dream of M&S.

Last night I had a dream that I was working in a really nice office in London, then I went for lunch and realised that I was just round the corner from Covent Garden.  I went into a really lovely and huge Marks and Spencer (That's the point I should have known I was dreaming, much though I love the Covent Garden branch of M&S it is very small and the building is weirdly designed), before realising I had been on lunch for two hours.

When I got back to the office everyone was taking an afternoon nap.  I didn't have a duvet with me, so I went downstairs to the submarine and helped the polar bear work out how to send biscuit tins through the speaking tube.

It was an odd dream.

Then I woke up and had a lovely chat with my Mum, before starting to clean the house in preparation for Jason's arrival tomorrow.  I am very excited!

Doctor's Orders.

I'm at home in bed with a cricked neck, you know it's surprisingly hard to type when lying on your side and unable to turn your head.

What's really annoying is that I know when I did it, but I wasn't paying attention, so I don't know exactly what I did.  I was towel drying my hair, and planning a post about Doc C's nightmare last night (He was fighting a ghost that kept playing the piano, and apparently I woke him up just at the point when he'd got the thing cornered.) The next thing I know the left side of my neck suddenly started hurting.

Being of sturdy English stock I battled on and carried on getting ready for work, but by the time I'd managed to pull a wrap dress on Doc C had decided that I should go back to bed with a couple of tylenol to help relax the muscles.  Once I was comfortable, he brought me the laptop then made sure the TV remote, my phone and a glass of water were all within reach before he left.

I hate being ill.  Stupid neck muscles.

Therein Lies a Tail.

In one of Doc's classes he asks all the students to say what super power they would want, there is a really good educational reason for this question, but it's to do with philosophy so I forget what it is exactly.  The really interesting thing is that apparently the choice of powers splits fairly evenly down gender lines, so girls will typically tend to opt for flying, or shape shifting, where as boys are all about super strength or super speed.  The middle ground is usually telepathy, teleportation and time-travel.  Sometimes someone comes up with a brand new super power, but generally the answers tend to be based on a favourite X Man or Hero.

My personal preference isn't a super power as such; if I were given a supernatural gift card, what I'd really want is a tail.  Preferably something like a monkey or a dormouse tail, so it has a good range of motion and functionality, but, if push came to shove, a cat's tail would be fine too (Short fur though, I couldn't be doing with a floofy tail).  Naturally if I did have a tail I'd probably buy special jewelry for it, or at least some ribbons to put a outfit co-ordinating bow on the end.

I've just always thought that would be really useful and fun.

In Which We Arrive at Work Too Early.

Doc C is teaching summer classes during the second half of the summer break, so we both got up early and headed into the office this morning.  We were both a bit bleary because someone started setting off fireworks at about two o'clock this morning (There is going to be a post very soon about how lovely and quiet the mountains of North Carolina are, and it's going to include the phrase "...in your dreams!"), so we hadn't got quite as much sleep as we would have ideally liked.

I had thought ahead however, because I knew I was going to be three hours early for work, and also that Doc C's office contains a comfortable sofa.  So I brought some yoga trousers to change into, and when Doc went off to his class I curled myself up into a ball on the sofa and closed my eyes.

For about five minutes, until Doc came back to his office.

Classes start tomorrow.

Ooh, was the Doc cross!  There was some stomping around, and I had to vacate the sofa so he could threw himself face down onto it and gnash his teeth in comfort.

Then he calmed down and decided to just get on with some work, so I went back to the sofa and had a lovely nap, which included dreams about penguins and climbing frames.

Morag.

I dreamt last night that I woke up and my cat Morag was at the end of the bed.

Morag was my cat when I was a little girl and we were living in Norfolk.  He was a very loving and loyal cat, and put up with me liberating the rabbits he caught with a pretty good grace.  We moved house when I was about ten, and he didn't like the new place at all.  Unfortunately it was slightly too close to his old territory, so he could find his way back to the old house.   We'd bring him back and shut him in the new house for a few days, during which he'd sit looking out of the patio doors miaowing sadly, until we let him out and then he'd be off again.

Eventually we had to accept that he just did not want to live there and we could not make him.  It was quite possibly the most tragic event of my pre-teen years.

It's really weird that I've never dreamt about Morag coming back before, because he was the best and most handsome cat ever and I loved him very much.  It was a very happy and reassuring dream.

Post Horror Movie Pillow Talk

Another thing that Doc did the night that he dreamt of bibliographies was something that I think of as a classic Doc C moment. 

To set this up I should explain that I used to love watching horror films, but I have learnt that watching them with the Doc is problematic because nothing supernatural scares him at all.  The Doc will just think it's silly, and then can't understand why I'm so jumpy afterwards.  He's asked me several times why an atheist gets so very freaked out by ghost stories, to which I have no answer deemed reasonable.

We had watched "White Noise Two: The Light" for two main reasons, firstly I'd heard it wasn't quite as silly as the original (which was the first film I reviewed on Alien Spouse, aaah!) and secondly Nathan Fillion is on screen for approximately ninety two minutes of the ninety nine minute running time.  And we love Captain Mal in this house, so that's recommendation enough for us.

This particular film really wasn't that scary, in fact upon reflection it seemed really short and far too simple.  I get the very distinct impression that a lot of stuff was cut out, and the story became a lot more linear and a lot less interesting.  Afterwards we watched some of the special features (unfortunately Doc wouldn't go for the deleted scenes), but there was a little mini-documentary on the filming, and one of the locations was an old insane asylum which had the reputation of being haunted.  So Nathan Fillion was walking around hamming it with a goth-lite member of the crew and it was all quite funny.

Then we went to bed and the Doc turned off the light, snuggled up to me and said:

"So you know that haunted insane asylum..."

I'm going to have to stop you right there Sweetheart, because I know what's going to happen next.  I'm going to be left lying awake thinking far too much about haunted insane asylums for hours whilst you drift off into a peaceful sleep and, funnily enough, that doesn't really work for me.

I Dream Of Genii

You know in movies when a character is asleep, and when something wakes them up they always say a single word that reveals a lot about them?  For example in a romantic comedy the hero would say the heroine's name and that's the point where he suddenly realises that he's really arguing with her all the time because he loooooves her so very much.  Alternatively in an action film it could be the big tough thug waking up and saying "Bunnies!".  Etc, etc, you know exactly the type of thing I mean I'm sure.

I never believed that actually happened in real life, I thought it was merely a cinematic convention however last night I couldn't sleep.  Whilst I was tossing and turning trying to get comfortable, I accidentally woke up the Doc, who was sleeping like a log.  A log that snores (I snore too, by the way.  Allegedly quite loudly, although I can't verify that for myself).

Anyway, The Doc actually said, and I quote:

"Zzzz......zz..z...zz...snort...what?........bibliography....hm?...what?"

Bibliography.  He later confirmed that he had been dreaming about writing an academic paper.

I do not care who you are, I can quite confidently state that my husband is a bigger nerd than yours.

Mmmm...Macaroons...

We've had quite a busy day, and I decided to have a nap before dinner.

I woke myself up when I had a dream about eating a coconut macaroon, and started drooling down my chin.

Dream V. Reality: Advantage Dream!

I had this great dream last night in which I was a circus performer who did motor-cycle tricks, and I think I may have been Italian.  I have no idea where that came from, but it was really fun and the best bit was I had my own lovely pet elephant.

In real life today I will be attending a class on how to use the University's internal computer system.  You know the one everyone rolls their eyes at the mention of, even the IT guy.

sigh.  Maybe I can draw a picture of an Elephant later.

Let's Talk Bedspreads.

I have got a new bedspread.  It is deeply exciting.

Please consider the bedding options below pictured. 

On the left we have a powder blue Martha Stewart everyday (registered trademark) bedspread.  It's 100% polyester, thin and very soft, but essentially it is a fleece and as such it is sweltering to sleep under.  I think of it as Martha's Revenge.

On the right we have a "slightly irregular" 100% cotton bedspread from Bed, Bath and Beyond.  The pink satin swatch in the corner of that shot is my beloved Marks and Sparks quilt.  I find the best way to make a bed for me is:

• Two Sheets, one on the bed and one as a cover
• One 100% cotton bedspread
• One Quilt.

That way I can easily control the temperature by adding or removing layers, and it's always just right.

Essentially what happened was this, when we first moved into our current flat in N.C. it was July and the flat was very hot.  We had to buy a monster floor fan in order to be able to sleep at night, and so we didn't want anything covering us, apart from maybe a sheet. 

After a month I then had to go back to the UK to wait for my visa, and, although I did mention the matter of bedding to The Doc, we didn't buy a cover then because we didn't need it yet.  I believe Doc said something along the lines of "Don't you trust me to buy a bedspread by myself?".  Well, I saw the wild look in his eye and quickly said "Of course I do!", whilst secretly thinking "Nope, not really".

When I flew back in October I found the powder blue Martha's Revenge firmly ensconced on the bed.  It literally gave me nightmares, because I would overheat under it and that's what turns my dreams rancid.  I have been biding my time and waiting for an opportunity to ditch the thing.

And I am so glad I did.  Last night I had the best night's sleep I've had in months.

Two Hours in Winston-Salem.

Today we decided to get off the mountain for a while, so we jumped in the car and headed to Winston-Salem.  Unfortunately what we had thought were Doc's allergies turned out to be the start of a nasty head cold and, by the time we actually arrived at our destination, he felt awful.

We walked around Winston-Salem for maybe two hours, but then Doc decided he just wanted to be at home so he could be ill in comfort.

Still in those two hours I did manage to score a queen-size, 100% cotton, cream bedspread on sale for $16, along with a copy of Sarah Waters' latest "The Night Watch" and "Roll the Bones:  A History of Gambling" both in hardback, reduced from $30 each to $7.99 each (which seemed like a major bargain at the time, but now I see that's pretty much what they are going for on Amazon.  Still I saved on the postage fees, and got them immediately!)

When we got home I made The Doc a nice strong cup of tea, and found him the vitamin C.  There really isn't a lot else that he will let me do for him when he's ill, at the later stages possibly soup might come into play but right now my main job is making sure I know where the nearest box of tissues is. 

Doc C then had a nap on the sofa in a nice warm patch of sunshine, whilst I scampered off to wash the new cotton bedspread and re-make our bed the way it's supposed to be done.

Job Hunt '08: Part-Time and Temporary Training Day.

This afternoon I'm going into the office to be trained on what on earth my part-time and temporary role requires.  It should only take an hour, and the woman I'm covering for has prepared a folder full of instructions so I shouldn't have any problems.

The only thing is I had one of those weird nights of sleep where you feel like you're actually awake.  It's sort of like my body and most of my brain goes to sleep, except for the central narrator who keeps droning on all night "The eyes are closed.  Can't see anything.  Let's just keep thinking about stuff on a loop, just for fun eh?  Hey that other bit of the brain is dreaming, so Jen must actually be asleep.  Should I go to sleep too?  Nah, I feel like observing and commenting on that dream, then I'll go back to thinking about stuff on a loop."

I know I did sleep but I still feel tired, so I hope I can concentrate this afternoon.  The Doc is taking me out for brunch before I go to training, so I'll make sure I have a nice strong cup of coffee just in case.

Baltimore: The Creepy Carousel

On my walk around the inner harbour yesterday morning, I found a carousel which was closed for the winter.

It is quite possibly the creepiest carousel, oh, ever.  The edge of the canopy is studded with disembodied heads mounted on a mirrors, and the animals are frozen into painful looking poses.  Some of them are missing limbs.

I imagine that as it spins the music it plays is a twangy version of one of the spookier carnival-esque songs by by Nick Cave or Tom Waits, and then you start to age backwards as Jonathan Pryce laughs and laughs and laughs...

Science of Sleeping at the Correct Temperature.

Last night we watched The Science of Sleep, which was great.  It's written and directed by Michel Gondry who had previosly directed "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", which I also liked very much indeed.

"The Science of sleep" has a fairly loose plot, but it can be boiled down to a young man who has difficulty separating his dreams from the real world, and vice versa, he falls in love and the dream/reality overlap becomes even more pronounced.  As a lot of the film is depicting dreams it's very visually stimulating, and it is also simultaneously in French, English and Spanish, but not in a confusing way.  It stars Gael García Bernal, who is gorgeous.  I heard a story about a friend of a friend seeing him in John Lewis in London, and being so stunned by his actual real live beauty in such close proximity that they dropped and broke their laptop.  Apparently totally worth it.  Gael is opposite Charlotte Gainsbourg, who I thought was really charming. 

Anyway, I think the Doc may have chosen this film because I've been having a lot of nightmares recently.  For at least the last week I've slept badly and once or twice just sat bolt upright in bed looking round the room in a panic.  It's alarming, but fortunately I know exactly why this is happening.

My body temperature whilst I'm asleep is very important. If I'm too cold I simply wake up, but if I'm too hot I have very bad nightmares, which can range from full-on horror-movie gore to waking up in tears from a dream about pasta sauce with crunchy onions in.  Of course I hate crunchy onion in pasta sauce, who doesn't?, but I don't cry about it whilst conscious.

Usually I sleep with a sheet and a cotton bedspread, and that will be perfectly fine for most of the year.  I'll add a light quilt and a fleece under blanket in winter, but that's normally it.  I didn't bring my cotton double bedspread with me from England, and, whilst I wasn't here, Doc C bought a polyester bedspread.  Man made fibres, such as polyester, are not my sleepy-time friends, hence the nightmares.  We keep meaning to go out and buy new bedding, but it just hasn't happened so far.

Last night I folded the polyester blanket in half so the Doc had it all to himself, and I used the cotton single blanket I've had since I was at university.  I had such a nice sleep.  I had lovely restful dreams about nice cups of tea, and it was all very pleasant.

A little bit grumpy from lack of sleep.

I did eventually get to sleep, but one thing I know about the flat downstairs is that the person in the back bedroom has stereo speakers with really good bass.  And they get up quite early on a Saturday.

It's not that the undergraduates who make up the majority of the people living in this small apartment complex are 24-7 party animals, and they aren't bad kids by any stretch of the imagination.  Usually they only really have one night a week when they go a bit crazy, the problem is that it's different nights for each flat.  So when downstairs is quiet the flat behind us will suddenly have a girly screaming contest on the balcony, or the boys next to us will, apparently, be practising pro-wrestling moves in their kitchen.

My particular favourite is the kid who cranks up his stereo and starts practising his rapping in his bedroom mirror, complete with really rubbish street hand gestures.  Even I know they look stupid, and I am the least street wise person in the western hemisphere.

The problem is that I'm not an undergraduate, so I haven't been out clubbing in ages, I don't hold conversations at the top of my lungs and I don't like drinking until I puke (anymore).

Essentially, and it pains me to say it, I'm too old for this nonsense.

An Unusual Bout of Insomnia

One thing I really hate about Doc C being away is that I can't sleep.  It's so stupid, because when he's actually here he keeps me awake snoring, or he'll start chasing rabbits in his sleep.

But when he isn't here, I get scenes from horror movies stuck in my head on a loop.  Sometimes it can even be horror movies I've never seen, but only read a review of, or, in extreme cases, films I've only seen the DVD cover art for.  Pathetic.  Particularly for someone who loves a good monster movie during the day, it's just right now when it's dark and quiet I start getting freaked.

My brain also supplements the fictional bogey men, with a selection of Stupid Things I Have Done.  Not huge things usually, quite often things that probably nobody else even remembers, these are just my personal faux pas that my brain keeps handy to make me fret about.  It will be something I said at a party years ago, or perhaps a particularly embarrassing day at school.  Basically stuff there is no earthly way I can actually do anything about, but which the memory of makes me squirm.

The combination of those two things can keep me awake for hours, if I'm left to my own devices, but actually tonight it's not either of those. 

No, tonight I'm mainly awake because we live above students.  Students who come home at two in the morning slightly drunk and very loud.  If Doc C were here neither of us would be asleep, we'd both be trying to remember what we did with those damn ear-plugs.

It's all fun and games until someone gets Demonically Posessed

I was chatting with Mum this afternoon, via Skype, and we were talking about the Tweetsie Railway and the Ghost Train, which she thought sounded fun. 

I was saying that actually the creepiest bits for me where those stretches of track where nothing is actually happening, you are just on a steam train chugging slowly through a dark forest at night, but you know there is someone waiting for you out there and they are planning something unpleasant.  True, in this case, it was just someone dressed up as Mrs Bates with a rubber knife to wave around, but the effect was still unnerving.

The kids on the trains were often quite vocally bored by these bits, so I suppose that type of tension is a learnt response in adults, where as children need a bogeyman of some sort to leap out at them to get an actual fright.

That made me think about how some kids toys can appear really disturbing to adults, who hasn't seen a clown doll that just looks like pure evil?  I can illustrate this perfectly with a photo I took that evening of a horse on a merry-go-round for toddlers.

I'm sure kids find this ride quite appealing, but to me this particular horse looks sinister.  It's got a mad look in it's eye, if you ask me.  Fortunately the whole ride was only about three feet high, so there is no way I could fit on the thing anyway. 

But if I could, I wouldn't.

Nightmare involving contract killers and complicated paperwork

After an evening spent riding a Ghost Train, and being menaced by people in rubber fright-masks it's hardly surprising I had some pretty weird dreams last night.

The one I remember most clearly was about a team of contract killers, who I had to dispose of bodies for.  I think.  I didn't actually see anything gory in the dream, so it's odd that I had that very distinct impression of my role without handling actual corpses in the dream.

I was particularly concerned because I was certain I'd left a fingerprint somewhere, very specifically I'd left my right hand middle fingerprint on something, and I was worried.  I was mainly concerned about the finger print because I knew the immigration department would be running checks on my prints, and if they were found to connect to an unsolved crime that would be bad.

It was a very odd dream, for lots of reasons obviously, but I like how my sub-conscious takes a really horrific starting point and then relates to the red tape of my visa application.

Oh, and in case anyone from the Immigration Service is reading this, I have never in actual fact seen a real live dead body, much less tried to dispose of one in an inappropriate or illegal manner.  Brownie Guide honour.

A Proper Steam Ghost Train

One of the things I was very keen on doing for Halloween was visiting the Tweetsie Railroad, which as the name suggests is a steam railway, but one which also has a pretty good amusement park.  Most of the year it's open just during the day and the shows and rides have a wild west theme, but over October they open on Friday and Saturday evenings to run a special Ghost Train. 

As you wait for the train there are lots of members of staff dressed as ghosts or horror movie characters wandering about, and a dance troupe who looked frozen but still did "The Timewarp" every half hour or so, whilst the MC reminds you about all the different rides.

We only had to wait about 5 minutes before catching the train, which has a special glowing skeleton-faced engine for Halloween, and the carriages are open and unlit, so you are basically riding slowly through dark wooded mountains.  Pretty spooky at the best of times! 

In each carriage are two Ghost Riders in guards uniforms, who walk around the carriage and occasionally sneak up behind someone and shriek with laughter. 

Tweetsie is celebrating it's fiftieth anniversary this year, so the basic idea of the ride is that the Train is going back in time, meaning you see ghosts from the 60's (soldiers with machine guns fighting a very plastic alien), a mock up of the Bates Motel with out door shower and two Mrs Bates standing on a platforms either side of the train making stabbing motions at the train. 

There are also some very effective fire-works, which I presume must be on wires, which zoom towards the train or along the side of it.

The best bit is when the train reaches the fifties and pulls up by a drive-in showing "Teenage Zombies".  All the guards get off to watch the film, whilst, from the other side of the train, people in various horror masks come out of hiding and jump on to the train.  They walk up and down the carriages with chainsaws running (These were very small chainsaws, so I think they were actually toys but they did make a very realistic noise and there was a distinct smell of exhaust fumes, so who knows???), and then get off to attack the guards.  Fortunately Elvis bursts out of the cinema screen and his guitar has a handy rifle attachment, so he fights off the chainsaw guys and the train moves off again.

The train is great, but it's not the only attraction by a long shot.  We went on a ferris wheel, in a 3D black-light maze, on a second, smaller, ghost train that this time went through the Tunnel of Terror, watched a show in the Haunted Palace Saloon and took the chairlift up to the top of the mountain.  It was a cold night, but it was very clear so the stars looked beautiful, especially from the chairlift.

The only thing I wouldn't do was go into the Haunted House.  I might have been persuaded, because I knew all of the rides and attractions were suitable for kids, and even the Haunted House was rated as ok for children over 8, but then I saw a group of teenagers running out of the exit screaming and decided that it wasn't for me.  Then Doc C admitted he didn't think I'd be able to sleep for a week if we went in, so we got something to eat instead.

We were at Tweetsie for three hours, rode the main ghost train twice and only left because the park started to close, and also because we were so cold we couldn't feel our toes anymore.  That's exactly what I'd always imagined a proper American Halloween to be like.  A little bit spooky, very cheesy and childish but SO much fun!

A Brief Summary of Costumes

We didn't actually do anything in particular for Halloween last night, apart from light our pumpkins obviously, but it was an interesting day none the less.

I had gone to campus with Doc C, and we got there at about quarter to nine in the morning.  We walked into the building which Doc's office is in, and there, sitting in the hallway, was The Penguin.  Doc C asked his class (none of whom were in costume to my slight disappointment) if any of them were planning to dress up that evening, and one student reported that he was working, so he was actually contractually obliged to.  He hadn't yet come up with a costume, except possibly just showing up naked.

Throughout the day we saw the Grim Reaper getting a bottle of water from a vending machine, and we walked past Jesus, Harley Quinn, one lone Spartan (probably on his way to meet the rest of the 300 to compare abs.), Violet from The Incredibles, and a nice traditional Robot made from cardboard boxes sprayed silver, who was accompanied by a Nerd (I particularly liked the group dynamic there).  Even when the students weren't going the whole hog, we saw several interesting wigs and quite a few girls had put cat-ear alice-bands on. 

All of them were going about their daily business, just dressed in a variety of unusual ways.  No one batted an eye lid.  In the centre of campus was a man with a seemingly endless supply of pumpkins, which he was guiding people through carving.  I liked the al fresco pumpkin carving, but it did mean there were several pumpkins, that had obviously been thrown, splattered on the pavements.

For lunch we had burritos, and our order was taken by a girl in a fluorescent pink skeleton t-shirt, whilst Marilyn Monroe was chatting with some guys at the bar.  The music playing was a Halloween mix tape combining things like the theme tune to "The Munsters" with punk.  I particularly liked the song to which the lyrics "No Costume. No Candy" sung on repeat.

After Doc C had finished teaching for the day, we went shopping.  At the local shopping centre (I just can't quite call it "A Mall" yet.  I'm sure that will come.) we discovered the nifty local solution to Trick-or-Treating in a remote mountain area.  You take your tiny terrors there, and most of the shops have a costumed member of staff sitting in the doorway to give the kids sweets.

We saw several teeny fireman, loads of Disney princesses, both Spiderman and Venom, a Mummy, Pirates and, my favourite, a very blonde toddler dressed as Super Girl who was just zooming around.

I didn't have a costume this year, but next year I'll be ready...

Wind-Up Scaries: The actual name on the packaging!

I'm sure I don't need to explain why I bought these little wind-up toys when I saw them in Bonds of Norwich, and then carefully wrapped them in bubble wrap to make sure they were safe in my carry-on luggage as I transported them across the Atlantic to the undisputed home of Halloween tat.

Coals to Newcastle?  Possibly, but they are such sweet little coals after all.  I personally like the Skeleton on the left of the photo best, but Doc C thinks the big grin on the Mummy is quite endearing.

They are actually slightly creepy when you wind them up and they start marching along in a relentless straight line.  Fortunately they only walk about an inch before the spring winds down.

That's not even the best bit though.  The best bit is they also glow in the dark.

North Carolina Renaissance Festival

Sorry I didn't post yesterday, but if you take a jet-lagged Alien Spouse to a Renaissance Festival what you get by the end of the day is a small confused heap of exhaustion.  It was really fun though!

Some of our friends had been telling Doc C about the North Carolina Renaissance Festival, which is open every year on weekends in October and November, and we had arranged to go with them this weekend.  This was all organised before the dramatic dash back to London for my Visa interview, but I could just about make it back to North Carolina in time, so we decided we would still go. 

It was more than slightly surreal to have come from England only two days earlier, and be wandering around a sort of approximation of European history slash fairy stories.  The festival is held in a specially built faux Tudor village, which is smothered with signs for things like "Fyssche and Chips".

All of the staff are wearing costumes, and there are several actors wandering around to provide suitable atmosphere.  On top of that loads of the ticket buying public take the opportunity to put on their corsets or their pirate hats, some costumes are very good indeed and some are really quite perplexing.  A large number of costumes involved fairy wings, or demon horns.

 

We saw several of the shows that are performed on open air stages.  We all enjoyed Hey Nunnie, Nunnie!, but then three out of the six people in our group were Religion professors, so that's sort of the target audience for jokes about Catholicism.  The Pirate Shantyman and Bonnie Lass were having microphone issues throughout, but I liked the songs and took full advantage of the many invitations to "Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!".  Bonnie Lass had literally just had a baby a week ago, so we were extremely impressed she was able to do three shows a day.  We caught the grand finale of one of Dextre Tripp's show, which involved him balancing on a ladder, whilst lighting firecrackers taped to his chest, and then being pelted with water balloons, I loved the art work for his posters and T shirts and would have liked to have seen him walking the burning tightrope.  We also did see some of the jousting, which seemed to be very tightly choreographed.

There were loads of shops and food stalls around the fair, usually selling something suitably unusual.  The food tended towards turkey legs, but you could also easily get fish and chips, scotch eggs and ice cream. There were several shops selling or hiring out costumes, candle shops, embossed leather bags and boots, jewellery of all kinds, wings (both pretty fairy and bat-like demon wings), paper parasols, swords, and most bizarrely, wax hands. 

There were also fairground rides, including actual grumpy-looking camels and a very docile elephant, a giant rocking horse, those sort of boat-swing things and Da Vinci's Flying Machines merry-go-round, which I thought was just such a well-realised idea.

   

It was all very odd.  I enjoyed it a lot, but I think I'd like to go again when not feeling quite so spaced out, and quite probably in some sort of costume.

I dream of sandwiches?

I've had dreams that have woken me up before, usually because they're frightening, but this morning I was woken up by a dream because it was so incredibly dull.

In the dream I was in a small corner shop, trying to find something to eat for lunch and there was nothing I fancied, no matter how hard I looked in the various chiller cabinets.  That's it.

Why on earth would I dream about something like that?  What would a dream analyst make of it?  And, perhaps most important, what will I have for lunch today?

Tim Burton, Please Take This Idea and Run With It

Doc C's thoughtful pre-Halloween gift reminds me another of one of my ideas for a film, it's simply a sequel to "The Nightmare Before Christmas" which I love.

It would be "The Nightmare Before Valentines", obviously with a much better title than that, but that's the essential pitch.  My very basic plot involves re-visiting Jack Skellington and Sally just over a year after the first film.  The story would kick off with Jack deciding that he wants to marry Sally, and going to Valentine-land to get Cupid to help him.

Just think of the potential merchandising for that baby!  I love all the Christmas ornaments you can get with the "Nightmare..." characters on, & I think Valentines could definitely stand to be Haloweened up a bit.  It would be so fabulous.