Message in a bottle
Monday, June 13th, 2005 11:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanWell, we're back on line. For how long, who knows? The BT engineer arrived shortly after 10 this morning, and frankly didn't seem to know why it wasn't working properly, so he fell back on the old standby, "It's your cable, Mate". I'm not convinced, but we're back online for the timebeing, at least.
In the meantime, here's my offline LJ for the period from Friday evening. Who needs a life?
11 June.
I have no idea when I’ll get to post this as the internet connection has now been down for a modern record of 22 hours, and shows no signs of reconnecting; oh how I long for those paltry 12 to 15 hour outages about which I would complain in days gone by.
An eventful few minutes have gone by. I nipped out to the kitchen, to make myself a coffee after Dr Who had finished, and noticed a couple of youths sitting on top of the wall at the back of the building, alongside the passage that leads nowhere save our back door. I wasn’t entirely happy about it, but decided to leave sleeping dogs lie as all they seemed to be doing was drinking lager from cans. A few minutes later, they had gone, and I thought no more about it. Imagine, then, my surprise, some twenty minutes later when I was standing at my window up in The Tower, chatting to a friend on my mobile, to see both of them back.
And this time they had climbed up onto the roof of the rear extension of the pharmacy below us and were making their way up to the main building wall. Now, I couldn’t think of a single legitimate reason for them to be there, so I went downstairs where they were just to one side of our (open) first floor window. As opportunistic burglars go, they were pretty useless, because I stood and watched them sneaking about a bit before inviting them to "piss of before I called someone." I wish I’d thought about it at the time, but I could have taken their picture with my mobile. Never mind, they legged it with a sort of sheepish dignity, pausing by the bins to see if I was still watching. It seemed a bit pointless calling the constabulary at that point since they would be long gone before a car arrived.
We are going to have to remember to keep that window shut when the place is empty.
So. The penultimate episode of the revived Doctor Who, eh? Bad Wolf. Now that’s a cliff-hanger ending if ever there was one. Fan-bloody-tastic. I can’t1 wait to see how it all ends next week. And if one thing has happened that the Doctor didn’t expect or believe, then that leads to the possibility of something else, despite his protestations... Something, perhaps, for the Christmas special, or at least season 2 (or should that be season 28, for the purists?).
12 June.
I’m in a bit of a fix now. We have been off line for well over 24 hours, and apart from the general inconvenience, I actually need to be able to get to read my email, which these days is stored on my g-mail account. It turns out that I was wrong: I don’t have the phone numbers of the Ilford Massive, but I do know where to find at least one of them. Unfortunately, it’s the other side of an isolated router. I thought I’d added it to my phone memory, but apparently not.
If ever there was a mundane illustration of how much I have come to depend upon technology, that is it. I guess that tomorrow (i.e. later today), I shall be doing some of that time hallowed practice of phoning mutual friends in the hope of rounding up the necessary information.
Bugger. Bugger, damn and blast.
Later
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romney, bless him has looked up the details on the intarweb and phoned the times and places through to me. I have also found a couple of useful phone numbers on my spare handset, so contact is no longer seemingly impossible.
Thirty-six hours into the Great DowntimeTM, and the computer is becoming less of the place to be, so maybe internet addiction isn’t as strong as some others.
Passing the time has become more a case of reading, catching up on borrowed Alias DVDs, and, because I was getting fed up with the dandelion clock look, shaving my head. That nearly turned out to be a disaster as the clippers didn’t seem to be up to their usual performance values, so with a half shaved head, and looking somewhat like a man with radiation poisoning, I set to work.
Disassembling clippers must be something like the kiddie version of stripping down and cleaning an AK47. Suddenly there are pieces everywhere, and you have to know where to put them so reassembly is easy. By cracky, you wouldn’t believe the amount of fluff and hair that gets hidden in those things over the years, no matter how clean you may have thought you’d kept them!
Anyway, a good clean, oil and reassembly later, I have shaved my head back properly into my preferred thuggee look. Pity I hadn’t done it yesterday, when the youths2 were hanging around. At that point it was more grizzled sea captain.
Oh well, shower now, I guess. No doubt that will be whenpax_draconis phones to announce his arrival. That’s the way things go around here.
13 June - sort of Sunday extended, i.e. it’s 12.43am as I start to type
Ooh, look. Over 48 hours without the internet, and I’m still keeping an offline version of my journal. I am increasingly haunted by my previous comments about my need to get a life.
Thanks must go tojfs for undertaking the gargantuan task of organising the rather large party that went to the Royal Festival Hall for Mozart’s Requiem, with westernind one of the performers. There were too many of you already there for me to recount all the names - you were there; you know, and it was good to see a fair few friends I rarely meet outside of gaming circles and such. I was sad and disappointed that _januarygirl_ was feeling under the weather and couldn’t make it. You missed a good night Kathy, hope you’re feeling better, and maybe something suitable will turn up in the near future where you can meet a few of your LJ friends. ;-)
Nice to seepax_draconis, ashenkat and immerwahr around at the Athenaeum Club for a few hours of natter prior to the concert. It now looks as though the club is booked for the forthcoming NWO plot meet in about a month’s time. Better get some snacks in. And wine. Mebbe some BEER, too. Oh Lord.
Day off tomorrow. The BT engineer is supposed to be coming sometime between 10 and 1 to fix the ADSL. Five will buy you four that no-one turns up.
Too bed now. I Think I’ll watch another episode of Alias and then collapse in a heap.
Good night, or Nos Da as they say in Wales.
1Well, clearly I can. Clearly I’ll have to...
2Speaking of whom, they seem to have left a bike - presumably not theirs - propped in the passageway by the bins. DT nearly broke his neck trying to get past this unexpected obstacle in the dark about midnight last night. Today on his way out, he has wheeled it down to Whetstone Police Station.
Nice to be back online.
In the meantime, here's my offline LJ for the period from Friday evening. Who needs a life?
11 June.
I have no idea when I’ll get to post this as the internet connection has now been down for a modern record of 22 hours, and shows no signs of reconnecting; oh how I long for those paltry 12 to 15 hour outages about which I would complain in days gone by.
An eventful few minutes have gone by. I nipped out to the kitchen, to make myself a coffee after Dr Who had finished, and noticed a couple of youths sitting on top of the wall at the back of the building, alongside the passage that leads nowhere save our back door. I wasn’t entirely happy about it, but decided to leave sleeping dogs lie as all they seemed to be doing was drinking lager from cans. A few minutes later, they had gone, and I thought no more about it. Imagine, then, my surprise, some twenty minutes later when I was standing at my window up in The Tower, chatting to a friend on my mobile, to see both of them back.
And this time they had climbed up onto the roof of the rear extension of the pharmacy below us and were making their way up to the main building wall. Now, I couldn’t think of a single legitimate reason for them to be there, so I went downstairs where they were just to one side of our (open) first floor window. As opportunistic burglars go, they were pretty useless, because I stood and watched them sneaking about a bit before inviting them to "piss of before I called someone." I wish I’d thought about it at the time, but I could have taken their picture with my mobile. Never mind, they legged it with a sort of sheepish dignity, pausing by the bins to see if I was still watching. It seemed a bit pointless calling the constabulary at that point since they would be long gone before a car arrived.
We are going to have to remember to keep that window shut when the place is empty.
So. The penultimate episode of the revived Doctor Who, eh? Bad Wolf. Now that’s a cliff-hanger ending if ever there was one. Fan-bloody-tastic. I can’t1 wait to see how it all ends next week. And if one thing has happened that the Doctor didn’t expect or believe, then that leads to the possibility of something else, despite his protestations... Something, perhaps, for the Christmas special, or at least season 2 (or should that be season 28, for the purists?).
12 June.
I’m in a bit of a fix now. We have been off line for well over 24 hours, and apart from the general inconvenience, I actually need to be able to get to read my email, which these days is stored on my g-mail account. It turns out that I was wrong: I don’t have the phone numbers of the Ilford Massive, but I do know where to find at least one of them. Unfortunately, it’s the other side of an isolated router. I thought I’d added it to my phone memory, but apparently not.
If ever there was a mundane illustration of how much I have come to depend upon technology, that is it. I guess that tomorrow (i.e. later today), I shall be doing some of that time hallowed practice of phoning mutual friends in the hope of rounding up the necessary information.
Bugger. Bugger, damn and blast.
Later
romney, bless him has looked up the details on the intarweb and phoned the times and places through to me. I have also found a couple of useful phone numbers on my spare handset, so contact is no longer seemingly impossible. Thirty-six hours into the Great DowntimeTM, and the computer is becoming less of the place to be, so maybe internet addiction isn’t as strong as some others.
Passing the time has become more a case of reading, catching up on borrowed Alias DVDs, and, because I was getting fed up with the dandelion clock look, shaving my head. That nearly turned out to be a disaster as the clippers didn’t seem to be up to their usual performance values, so with a half shaved head, and looking somewhat like a man with radiation poisoning, I set to work.
Disassembling clippers must be something like the kiddie version of stripping down and cleaning an AK47. Suddenly there are pieces everywhere, and you have to know where to put them so reassembly is easy. By cracky, you wouldn’t believe the amount of fluff and hair that gets hidden in those things over the years, no matter how clean you may have thought you’d kept them!
Anyway, a good clean, oil and reassembly later, I have shaved my head back properly into my preferred thuggee look. Pity I hadn’t done it yesterday, when the youths2 were hanging around. At that point it was more grizzled sea captain.
Oh well, shower now, I guess. No doubt that will be when
pax_draconis phones to announce his arrival. That’s the way things go around here.13 June - sort of Sunday extended, i.e. it’s 12.43am as I start to type
Ooh, look. Over 48 hours without the internet, and I’m still keeping an offline version of my journal. I am increasingly haunted by my previous comments about my need to get a life.
Thanks must go to
jfs for undertaking the gargantuan task of organising the rather large party that went to the Royal Festival Hall for Mozart’s Requiem, with westernind one of the performers. There were too many of you already there for me to recount all the names - you were there; you know, and it was good to see a fair few friends I rarely meet outside of gaming circles and such. I was sad and disappointed that _januarygirl_ was feeling under the weather and couldn’t make it. You missed a good night Kathy, hope you’re feeling better, and maybe something suitable will turn up in the near future where you can meet a few of your LJ friends. ;-)Nice to see
pax_draconis, ashenkat and immerwahr around at the Athenaeum Club for a few hours of natter prior to the concert. It now looks as though the club is booked for the forthcoming NWO plot meet in about a month’s time. Better get some snacks in. And wine. Mebbe some BEER, too. Oh Lord.Day off tomorrow. The BT engineer is supposed to be coming sometime between 10 and 1 to fix the ADSL. Five will buy you four that no-one turns up.
Too bed now. I Think I’ll watch another episode of Alias and then collapse in a heap.
Good night, or Nos Da as they say in Wales.
1Well, clearly I can. Clearly I’ll have to...
2Speaking of whom, they seem to have left a bike - presumably not theirs - propped in the passageway by the bins. DT nearly broke his neck trying to get past this unexpected obstacle in the dark about midnight last night. Today on his way out, he has wheeled it down to Whetstone Police Station.
Nice to be back online.