Sunday, 19th February, 2006

Thirty Four (d)

travels numpty birthday

Before I go into a small rant about being a numpty last night, can I just briefly call your attention to this, and make a small observation that I can't believe that no-one's noticed that the last picture I've uploaded to Flickr every day this month so far, has borne a passing resemblence to a letter of the alphabet.

...

Last night was wonderful — I don't know if Laura knew it was my birthday before I started shouting "It's my birthday! It's my birthday!" just after midnight in the restaurant, but the champagne was very welcome

Also, I must apologise to Nina

But, all things aside, I'm kicking myself right now (at least, figuratively — I'm actually sat in the bar at the Campanille), because last night, somehow, I lost everything.

...

I woke up this morning with a kicking headache, and a sudden realisation that my handbag was empty apart from fifteen quid and my room key.

No fags. No wallet. No phone.

I went out and bought fags, and I (miraculously) found my (empty) wallet lying in that sodding ditch that everyone falls into.

Putting two and two together, I realised that I must have fallen into the ditch, while everything in my handbag fell out.

Anyway, crap. Arse and crap. Fuckity fuck fucking arse crap.

I'm supposed to be going to Oxford now to meet Jon — thank God I backed up my phone numbers.

Aw, thank you — all of you

When Technology Goes Bad

So the phone rings, right? And it's my brother...

"Happy birthday Siobhan Graham"

Usual thing — blah blah blah, how are you, blah blah blah, Gran's 90th birthday, blah blah blah. And then we're like "Hold on, let's Skype"

But there's nasty feedback, so we decide to check out how his iChat is working.

This Christmas, my brother gave my mother an iSight as a present (the fool). And lo and behold, it fell to me to install it for her. Not really a problem, except that I inadvertently gave her my iChat username so she could test it.

(My boy username *duh* — you think I'd give her my girl one?!)

Sorry, where was I?

Oh yeah, so basically, I got a tour of my brother's Manhattan apartment, through the joy of laptop-connected-iSight-goodness.

And then the phone rang.

And it was my dad.

Oh look, sorry. I've had a couple of glasses and as a result, this writing is descending into my usual disjointed shit.

Video iChat with brother, old-school Alexander-Graham-Bell-style conversation with Father. Siobhan gets passed onto her mother.

Apparently, even though both mother and brother have been able to connect to Apple's testing iChat thingumy, they've not been able to talk to each other yet. So, the reason for me using it with Little Bro was to see if it was a problem his end or hers.

Halfway through talking to him though, I became very aware that I was wearing a nightie, and shoved a t-shirt on over the top of it.

Later, whilst trying it out with my Mum, I was very glad that I'd done so. The conversation went like this:

M: Ah, I see you've got a glass of wine there

S: Yeah, well it is my birthday.

(Did I mention that it was my birthday? )

Had I not put a t-shirt on, it would have gone something like this:

M: Ah, I see that you're wearing a nightie, and that you've kept a dark and hidden secret from us for 34 years, and that you're a freak and an abomination and you're going to hell.

S: Yeah, well it is my birthday.

Ah yes. And exactly where is my write-up BTW?

(our city will be ON SHOW to slightly passé former-celeb (*) tranny-blogger, MUST IMPRESS)

Slightly passé former-celeb (*) tranny-blogger was impressed. You're all a lovely bunch of poofs