Maubles.

I love this time of year. Everyone I know knows that I am mad about decorations, in particular, baubles.

I've hardly bought any new ornaments this year... Well, I get told off if I buy more. I do have five big suitcase sized boxes, each with a different colour colour collection, after all. In fairness though, they're usually bought when the sales start, and tucked away carefully for another year.

I confess to buying a couple including these rather beautiful 2 for 3 gems I discovered hiding in Marks & Spencers. And yes, that is a big handful of loose sequin stars floating round in there!

(UPDATE: It was kind of lucky I did - apparently people go MENTAL in the sales- there were NONE left when I went out the day after Boxing Day! I mean seriously, the shelves were literally empty and Marks and Sparks staff were dragging empty units out!)

Ooh, and these were another bargain at 50p for a box of 12.

I mean, yeah, they're only plastic, but they're nice space fillers in bright metallic red and matching glitter red, which go well with my black and red theme this year.

Your "icicle" bauble is traditionally glass or crystal (and I confess, I have got some long glass ones in silver sparkle tarnish stashed away somewhere!) and I don't normally buy plastic - but seriously, they're actually pretty nice. I bet you wouldn't have known if I hadn't told you!

Pastafarians have the fortune of having one of the longest festive seasons of all religions, going throughout December AND January - and believe me, I have been making the MOST of it. First of December, these suckers went STRAIGHT on our £3.50 summer bargain jet black tree along with some cherry globe LED lights.

Funky!

The "onion" is one of my favourite bauble designs; a cheeky hat tip to the old school teardrops. Suddenly, surprisingly, they have become very much in vogue this year.

Yes, it does have a spiked base under that wide bell and there's something very... sexy about this shape, especially when it's been crafted in this darkly lustrous red glass. Opaque, glossy, decidedly metallic under the deep red glaze, it has a certain sense of class!

I've always preferred glass baubles for the craftsmanship that goes into them, and for their fragile, fleeting nature. It adds to the preciousness for me, knowing that once they're gone, they're gone!

Actually - I think I have more baubles than items of jewellery for myself...

Worth it.


And then sometimes, you find something that's just deliciously tacky. Alright, I know I said I prefer glass baubles, but you don't find quite so many peculiar glass ones in funky designs, and c'mon, you can't deny it in all honesty - that's just adorable, isn't it?!

After all, it's the perfect counterpoint to the very grown up, sensible "Onions" - they were so kooky, I couldn't resist; especially when they were on sale at 99p for a box of four!

The rest of the black tinsel tree was decorated with some space filler gloss plain black baubles and matching glitter ones to add a subtle dimension to the reds, sparkly silver stars decorated the room, and my summer bargains provided a nice surprise...

Those ones are clear roundy onions - that pop open in half. Luckily, it happens to be that Thornton's Cherry Kirsch chocolates come in red metal foil and are the perfect size to pop just the one in the middle of each little bauble.

Chocolate baubles with a difference!

Things I learned this month:

Dysarthria is a speech disorder where the muscles required literally won't play ball to help pronounce words.

Stephen Hawking has my favourite kind of sense of humour. The man is one of the most spectacularly intelligent people in history, and quite frankly I'm overawed and a little intimidated by his scary smarts - but he explains things so neatly, never being patronizing and often with light heartedness... I aspire to be that kind of person.

(Page sample snapped from "Universe in a Nutshell")

I discovered an appreciation for associating abstract concepts, such as a how a train and a bicycle, a watch and a ruler, or music and painting are similar... Seems silly, but don't you feel a little bit good for going "Oh yeah, those are examples of..."

Which lead me to discover "neologism"; a new word when you can't grab the one you want. Portmanteaus are "old versions" of neologisms, such as "brunch". Breakfast and Lunch. Or "tellypresser". ;)

Other discoveries included finding out that if His Lordship catches me drinking his tea and goes "Noooooo." in such a way as to make me laugh, I can turn into a tea-geyser. Everything smelled like tea for ages.

And that the Hawaiian lava flats look AMAZING. Oh, and that you can have dinner on them, as my friend Buddhini proved. Lava-grilled sausages. Mmmmm.

Ooh, and check out: http://www.nsf.gov/index.jsp

A certain Tstupid lizard managed to hurt his eye last Saturday, throwing himself out of his tank to get at Hyphen and clunked it on the edge of his door, giving himself a minor abrasion on his cornea.

He's sat on his hut, eye shut, mouth open. I poked him gently in the ribs. He opened his eye. "Wut?" and shut it. Opened it again. "You still here? What do you want?" and closed it.

Blueberries make him sad. He does not want a blueberry. Oh... sweeties? YEAH! Sweeties make EVERYTHING better!

Most corneal scratches heal in less than a week, and the infection risk rate is less than 0.7% when it's properly cleaned - but that doesn't stop it being very sore. The biscuit bit from bourbon biscuits is also apparently a good pain killer.

Jam woke up as I came through the room (on my way to work), gave me a mournful look and scratched her nose on her bedpost. I leaned in and gave her flaky eye a good scratch and lifted off the loose scales.

It's the most adorable thing ever, by the way - having figured out that humans are good itching-tools and easily manipulated into providing their services more efficiently than the bedpost - Jam really gets into her scratches, like a cat enjoying a good fuss, leaning into your hand and almost purring!

Happily de-itched, she then pointed out her bowl was empty...

So here's Jam, almost having breakfast in bed. Lucky bloody lizard!

Pasta.

WARNING: RELIGIOUS RANT!


So, as most of you know, I regularly tangle with religious fundamentalists, and I'm very patient with them, despite some very peculiar ideas, like the Young Earth theory, or this one... (Which Zak is busy dealing with, here.)


However, when dealing with one overly-zealous preacher whom kept forcing his views at me after repeated polite requests to desist, I surprised myself with the sheer volume of sauce that rose - until my pan overfloweth. (For those familiar with the Bible, you might recognise which bits are in response to his quotes!)

And lo, the mighty carbohydrated deity said unto us, let there not be inflexibility in the world - let us all mingle peacefully in the warmth of the waters, so that we will be happy amongst our bretheren, be they spaghetti, fusili or conchiglie!

And for those whom cannot partake of the gluten based carbohydrate, let them also understand that gnocci is perfectly acceptable, based on potato, though it is.

For even those whom cannot sup of the mighty marinara lest it be harming the animals from whence the meat is taken, let them be accepted also, with succulent sides of tofu or quorn - and let them not be preachy gits about it, for we know the suffering that commences, and we do what we can to alleviate it with kindness and free range produce.

Those that be condemning thee with threats of torture and misery, forgive them - they know not the harm they do, they are ignorant and without carbohydrates to give them the blood sugar boost they so desperately need.

One day they will understand that it is not hellfire - there is no hellfire. Just a mighty flame over which the pot of the universe simmers, with all of us safely gathered, sifted from the waters of trivial day-to-day inanities, and served in fine dishes at the table of heaven.

About noontime, the table was laid, the bowls were set, the checkered tablecloth resplendent in its Italian Bistro red - and thus we partook of his kindness, so that we could work harder for the afternoon and put right the parts of the world that we could. 

I hope that you can accept other people for who they are. I pray that given time and warmth, you can become flexible like the spaghetti, yet, like the spaghetti, still retain the full essence of what you are. You will be able to happily mingle in peace with all others in the colander of society, be they conchiglie or fusilli - I believe that one day you will understand your fellow man and find compassion for the souls of others.

We are all in the same pan. We are all of the same stuff, yet varied in shape and colour. I hope for a better future and understanding. We do not have hell, where I am from. We simply have justice, and peace.

R'Amen.

I also draw the line HERE. Yes, they're saying: "Believe in God, or Risk Twelve Months in Prison in Kentucky!"

Jacjacattack!

I really don't know how these guys see it and I can only imagine it generates this response because it looks kind of scaly.

Now Hyphen's over it, Jac has a problem with it. And he is literally teeth deep in that thing

Never mind - he might be a weird little lizard, but his character is coming out and his attitude is slowly improving. He's still got a very "I can manage for myself, I am an island, I do not require your assistance woman" attitude and a mighty scowl, on par to Clint Eastwood's bulldog/wasp expression, which has earned him his new moniker: He is now Jacques in-parenthesis von Cleef.

It goes very well with his almost-adorable and somewhat hilarious fits of anger, the target of which is as diverse as the directions of the wind.

He thought about picking a fight with His Lordship's slippers - but decided my phone was an easier target and let teethmarks in the cover. He then beat up the skirting board until I fetched the carpet slope for him to maul, before chasing His Lordship's jeans cuffs around the living room, earning himself a few gentle scoots of discouragement.

Not bad for a sick, raggedy skin and bones, parasite ridden lizard with a seriously bad attitude just three months ago, is it?

Pastafarian Passports?

Yahhharrr - I am an OFFICIAL CITIZEN of the High Seas! 

The Terramar Project is about raising awareness, transparency and responsibility for the oceans. Donations received help support education initiatives, technology, research and expeditions, supporting training programmes and other environmentally based projects. (Heads up - the donate link doesn't work well in Chrome. It does still work in shudders Internet Explorer though.)

Claim yer patch, raise yer flag - it matters not whether ye be pirate; we all live on this same planet together, so let us protect it! You can find my  location of citizenship here: 53° 34' 58.09" N, 0° 5' 34.75" E

I am a officially citizen of the High Seas, just like a Pirate should be!

Warning: emotional topic (not about me)

Over the last month (yes, I'm doing a hefty catchup!) I've been debating euthanasia, abortion and right-to-life topics at length with people whom hold "sanctity of life" in the highest order.

There's a woman on a pro-life forum saying that she's totally cool with letting potentially many thousands of women each year die from ectopic pregnancy, rather than treat it - all because it will be an "abortion". Bearing in mind a tubular ectopic pregnancy has ZERO chance of the baby surviving. She justifies it: "If the mother is at risk of losing her life, that's a risk all mothers take. All mothers should be prepared to make that sacrifice." I can't agree with you. A raped woman has not made that choice.

Anyway THIS LINKIE was particular case was a breakthrough for my argument on "sanctity of life".

"The judge said that “with a heavy heart” he had to agree to the hospital’s request to withdraw life-sustaining treatment as doctors and nurses agreed that all further interventions would be futile - the child was at risk of further complications and infection as well as already being seriously ill."

This is the bit that makes me particularly sad...
"The boy’s 17-year-old sister said her brother had told her that he believed God could heal him, and it was his faith that had sustained him until now."

In this case, she's wrong. It wasn't so much faith or deity - it was medical science. They turned the machine off, he died. God didn't step in and sustain him. Your faith is commendable but, I fear, unfounded. It's one of the reasons I have a very hard time believing in a God that is omnipresent and omniscient. It's one of the reasons I prefer my fallible god.

I was extremely interested to notice that out of 213 voters on one poll on the Pastafarian forum, only two votes were against. One of which turned out to be a complete troll, and promptly blocked - and the other of which turns out to be a Christian and ID proponent.

More stuff I have learned recently...

Today, I learned that cockroaches don't carry oxygen in their blood. I was aware their blood is clear and that they have tubes allowing air to penetrate into the body, but it hadn't occurred to me that they didn't circulate oxygen.

I also learned the Baha'i faith believe that demons are merely metaphors for the worst parts of human imperfection and don't exist in the real or spiritual realms.

I DEFINITELY learned that the FSM has a sense of humour as well as a sense of Karmic Justice. I swear on my own life that I haven't made any of this up - I'm literally crying in pain, I'm laughing so hard.

His Lordship was having a bit of a rant how he never gets a weekend off to do his things and, whilst he appreciates how nice it is of (usually my grandmother!) to invite him to dinner, afternoons out and such, he hasn't had a single Sunday to himself to do his stuff lately.

And midway through this self-same mini-rant, my grandmother called to apologise that she wouldn't be able to offer us dinner after all; my grandfather's new medication is causing him problems and he's gone to sleep it off instead.

At which point he looked thoroughly hard-done by and guilty, cursing "There MUST be a god after all, only the Flying Spaghetti Monster would dick around like this!"

Poor chap. I understood what he was saying though, and he didn't mind too much that I was laughing my ass off at this point, pausing the telly (yay cable TV!) to let me finish hooting.

He came over to apologise and rant a bit more at the ass that is my joker of a god (and by default as a non-deistic Pastafarian, technically his), and as I hugged him and he apologised... the TV spontaneously unpaused itself, randomly selecting a music channel... at the very perfect, precise point where Blink182's singer Tom DeLonge sings... "and I'm so sorry!"

Sending him off in a further ranty "God is a douche!" laughterstorm.

Serves him right. Gifthorse dentistry and all that.

And Hyphen reconfirmed his status as still a loveable idiot.

Games Night

Saturday nights tend to be games nights. For those that don't know, I'm a DooM girl, and once a fortnight, games night is at our house.

This involves:
Spaghetti and meatballs and beer.
Games. (Mostly DooM)
Red Dwarf.
Movies.


For those that don't follow tabletop games, DooM was (and is) originally a series of computer games - a science experiment on the Mars base goes badly wrong, unleashing and transmuting from the people there a whole bunch of demons with bad attitude and worse breath.

The tabletop version is exactly that - you're a little figurine (with your team, if you're lucky!) trying to fight your way through to safety. In the picture above, I am the little green marine in serious trouble. I have severe doubts as to whether I'll get to that first aid kit in time, as I'm about to get my head punched in from multiple directions by those hulking great Hellknights.

They're literally big grey versions of the Hulk. With a less reasonable personality.

Things I have learned lately.

In 1409 Fiore di Liberi from Friuli in Italy, wrote a treatise on combat. Part of his treatise included a weapon with a hollowed out hammer filled with chilli powder; an enemy would try to block a hammer being swung at them - the resulting percussive force would throw the powder into their eyes blinding them!

You can use Google to super-power your searches, by using the right "codes":

I discovered that the Mursi women wear lip-disks as a sign of pride and maturity, and that the rest of the world have some very different concepts of beauty. I particularly like the Mauritanian ideal of "the perfect woman" - they like 'em big.

I've realised that religious intolerance annoys me deeply. I'm sick to the teeth of religions based on the same flaming fundamental principles having the cheek to turn round and say "because my god said so." There are over 2000 gods documented in modern history, so that's a rubbish answer. You can't ALL be individually right, and I'm certainly not going to take anyone's word for it without proof. And don't be ridiculous and quote passages from your religious book at me as "proof" because, you know what? Here's news for you! All the other religions can do the same blooming thing!

I am starstuff. I am a tiny part of the whole, and my components formed in the heart of a massive, ancient star, then flung to the far corners by its violent death. The universe will continue without me, and I am content with this concept.

I also found out that the national rail don't specify what time the disturbance they're apologising for is going to be. I wasn't surprised to discover it meant they would have a team of two diggers, a massive roller thing and other assorted caterpillar tracked machines trundling around just a few doors down... But I hadn't realised they meant it would be at one in the bloody morning!

Mind you, at least it prepared me for this: http://knottyboys.com/

Reptile Awareness Day!

Tsam was attentive this evening as usual, watching me from his comfy spot on his hut as I prepared dinners (sneaking him a few choice shreds of green spring cabbage) and wriggling contentedly when I gave his head a noogie. He was sad to hear about Noa, but understood and shut his eyes - he'd been there when my first lizard passed away from what we suspect was the same thing.

Sandy was happy to chat for a while, giving me her wise, slow blink. I'm sure she understands the tone, if not the meaning - and her opinion seems to be that when a bad thing happens, sometimes a good thing will come along later. She was good friends with Kyle, and moved into her tank; she reminded me that, oddly, just days later, Mocha arrived in desperate need. Though she did tell me off when I took the bit of dried, crumbly scale off her beard. I told her off in return for not letting me get it, miserable cow - she'd be much cheerier if she didn't sit in the cold end - so she parked herself under her heatlamp for a bit until she felt she'd got a solar powered grin ready.

Jam had already sat up at her window and plonked a hand firmly on it, ready for some fussings. First thing she does when I open her door is greet me with a lick to make sure I am actually me. And to see if there's anything tasty. She's always good for hugs on a glum day. Or a rainy day. Or a sunny day. Or a happy day. Or any day, really. Today was a day where hugs were clearly required.

I also love how Jam sleeps like a people in her bed. I really need to sort a mattress and some bed clothes for her.

Hyphen gazed at me. Hyphen gazed at his salad. He's young and stupid. Hyphen went back to sleep. He's happy and oblivious, as usual.

Ditto Mocha after a quick sip of syringe water (though not without her usual furious argument about the whole thing); she reckons she's brumating. She occasionally deigns to open just one of her eyes - she's grumpy because she's trying to sleep and she's being quite clear what she thinks as to the disturbance. Everything radiates a quiet air of "piss off".

Jacques is still baffled by this whole human interaction and discussion thing.

He's_kind_ of getting the hang of being a pet, though a hand in the tank still startles him into an impressive "Oh my god, she's going to swat me round the head" flinch. But it's getting there. He hasn't quite understood the purpose of the fresh tissue in his tank every day either. He very carefully moves it over so he can poop next to, or better yet, UNDER it. I think he doesn't want to make it dirty - silly boy.

But then again, for a dragon that doesn't understand that he will get food every day (or whenever he needs it, if he chooses not to eat every day later) I can understand this.

Whilst it is cute to watch him leap down and hog his dinner as if someone is going to take it away in the next five seconds and he won't get any more for the rest of the month, it will be nice to see him relax into a proper dragon.

Raspberry... we meet again.
(221g and counting!)

Fix the finances

Right! I have had enough of my budget being out of whack. I am on the monetary war-path!

First up - household bills. I had a word with my gas and electricity suppliers whom I've had for all of six weeks and told them to go bite it. I mean, really, £60 a month for gas?! Who are you kidding, British Gas? You're supposed to be the gas supplier of Britain, surely - so why's yours so expensive and why can other people do your gas for cheaper?!

I've now switched to NPower's Jan 14 deal instead, as it's something like £186 a year cheaper than what I'm currently paying.

Second up - the mobiles. I'm fed up of my so called awesome contract costing me the freakin' earth, especially when I've barely used the freakin' thing. Orange, you can go screw off - your customer service dudes have been lousy, consistently so. When my SIM stopped working, your dudes told me I had to have a whole new phone and buy out of my old contract to do so! I went to Carphone Warehouse where they discovered it was only my SIM card that had failed and ordered me an emergency replacement SIM.

My phone was fixed within three days, for free - as opposed to £120 to buy out of my new contract plus whatever it would cost for a new one plus phone that I didn't actually need. Jerks. So, as my contract is due up in a couple of weeks, you can shove that bit of paper in any orifice you please. I'm going to Giffgaff. I mean, £10 a month for unlimited texts, internet and 250 minutes complete with free Giff-to-Gaff minutes and texts? Yes please! That's £15 cheaper than my current "contract rate", and with more stuff.

I already have the cheapest two year mortgage I can get, and the cheapest insurance available. I've just restocked half of my store cupboards on BOGOF favourites, so I'm feeling comfortable now we have plenty to eat just-in-case, and I'm finding a new supplier for locusts.

Can anyone else think of a way to cut back more of my bills and save money? I might have to sell some old stuff on eBay next, and sign up to places like Fiver with my skills...

Multidenominational!

I'm now officially multidenominational - I've just been accepted as a minister of the Universal Life Church. Not that it was difficult; anyone can be accepted. It doesn't matter what your religion is. That's the point.

However, I've done it for a good reason: the ULC have the same basic standards as Pastafarianism - they just don't have the pirate and pasta goodness - but they have no problems with the pirate and pasta goodness! Part of a minister's duty (in most religions) is to absolve sins. Now, Pastafarians have no concept of "original sin" or "hell", but the ULC understands other people do, so ULCism now "upgrades" me to be able to absolve original sin, whilst keeping my concept of no hell.

Get ordained online.

The Flying Spaghetti Monster is cool with polytheism. Even poly-non-theism. 

F you Flu!

On the plus side, my new bathroom is kinda cosy, my new bath mat surprisingly comfy and the P shaped bath means there's a nice curve to lean from. The things you learn, hey?

In no particular order however, these are some of the things that have made me feel a little better today:

Sweet chilli chicken sandwiches, custard doughnuts, Thorntons Chocolates, Rich, cups of tea, lizards, TiVo, the tiler doing a good job, seriously cute stuff on the internet, my parcels arriving on time, grapes and Stephen Hawking.

I also emailed one of the physicists working on the "quantum pacemaker" with Rich's recipe for melted cheese and received a joke back in return: "You know what they say about Heisenburg's sex life? When he has the time, he can't find the energy, and when he finds the right position he can't get enough momentum."

Which of course prompted an outbreak of spectacular physics jokes from the nerdier of my friends (including two molecular biologists and a dude who writes care manuals for super magnets, installed at places like CERN.) The best has to be this one:

Heisenberg and Schrodinger are pulled over by a traffic cop. The cop says, "Do you know how fast you were going?"
Heisenberg replies helpfully, "No, but I know where I am."
The cop says, "You were going 108 miles per hour!"
Heisenberg becomes distressed and says, "Oh great, now I'm lost!"
The cop, confused by this, thinks they must be high, and goes to look in their trunk. Opening it, he says, "Do you guys know you have a dead cat in here?"
Schrodinger says, "We do now, a**hole!"

A lesson learned, a smile earned. I just found a pumpkin seed on the bathroom floor.
What's that all about?

Speedy updates!

HairsYourChance officially closed - having raised at least £875.44!

Yvonne, the local MacMillan lady sends her warmest thanks to all of you for all her efforts. My nan sent me a hand knitted woolly hat.

In other news, apparently I have to get my electrician in to wire up the cooker and hob ignition. I wish they'd have said, because my sparky has gone on holiday. So, I have a nice new kitchen with non functioning cooker and hob until he gets back. Their electrician can't do it because he hasn't done any of the other electrics in the house.

Well... Great.