(no subject)

Happy Anniversary, my Mum and Dad - 34 years today.

34 years is not bad going.

Rather than try to find an actual gift that would suit both of them, this afternoon I'm taking the two of them and Small to see Cats at the New Theatre.

It tickles me that the New Theatre is the oldest in the city.

Forza Italia - all my hopes are pinned on them, now. Maybe I'll cheer for Portugal this afternoon as well, for the sakes of my Portista friends Pila and the rest of the Pilacrat gang.

I'm getting a wee bit worried about my friend Molly. I haven't heard from her in over a fortnight now, and that's not like her. Last I heard she was going to stay with her sister in Gloucester for a few days; her sister hasn't been well. Then - nothing. I've rung the house loads of times and got nothing, and since her son Jason now lives there as well, you'd think one of them would have picked up. So I'm a wee bit worried. Maybe something's happened. Could be anything - problem with the sister, problem with Molly herself. Or something with Jason's little boy who has leukaemia. He's only 21 months old - he's been doing well, but it wouldn't take much for him to go down fast.

I hope nothing's happened. It's probably nothing. I've just missed them both every time I've called. But it's not like Molly not to have called me, if only to say that she wasn't going to be around for a while, for whatever reason. When Joseph was first diagnosed I was the first person she called. So until I manage to get hold of someone and find out why the sudden silence, I'm going to be worried.

(no subject)

Happy Anniversary, my Mum and Dad - 34 years today.

34 years is not bad going.

Rather than try to find an actual gift that would suit both of them, this afternoon I'm taking the two of them and Small to see Cats at the New Theatre.

It tickles me that the New Theatre is the oldest in the city.

Forza Italia - all my hopes are pinned on them, now. Maybe I'll cheer for Portugal this afternoon as well, for the sakes of my Portista friends Pila and the rest of the Pilacrat gang.

I'm getting a wee bit worried about my friend Molly. I haven't heard from her in over a fortnight now, and that's not like her. Last I heard she was going to stay with her sister in Gloucester for a few days; her sister hasn't been well. Then - nothing. I've rung the house loads of times and got nothing, and since her son Jason now lives there as well, you'd think one of them would have picked up. So I'm a wee bit worried. Maybe something's happened. Could be anything - problem with the sister, problem with Molly herself. Or something with Jason's little boy who has leukaemia. He's only 21 months old - he's been doing well, but it wouldn't take much for him to go down fast.

I hope nothing's happened. It's probably nothing. I've just missed them both every time I've called. But it's not like Molly not to have called me, if only to say that she wasn't going to be around for a while, for whatever reason. When Joseph was first diagnosed I was the first person she called. So until I manage to get hold of someone and find out why the sudden silence, I'm going to be worried.

(no subject)

BOOK: If you take sexual advantage of her, you're going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

Firefly - Our Mrs Reynolds


So, I took my parents to the theatre this afternoon to see a show as their anniversary present - we saw Cats, which is on tour from the West End. The people in the row behind gossiped and giggled all the way through, very loudly. Was forced to take issue with them in the end, and then had a blazing row once the show was over. They felt having paid for their tickets entitled them to sit and discuss their diets all the way through the show. I felt that having paid for my ticket entitled me to actually hear the show, rather than learn all about their latest diet that wasn't working.

Yeah. A special level of hell.

(no subject)

BOOK: If you take sexual advantage of her, you're going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

Firefly - Our Mrs Reynolds


So, I took my parents to the theatre this afternoon to see a show as their anniversary present - we saw Cats, which is on tour from the West End. The people in the row behind gossiped and giggled all the way through, very loudly. Was forced to take issue with them in the end, and then had a blazing row once the show was over. They felt having paid for their tickets entitled them to sit and discuss their diets all the way through the show. I felt that having paid for my ticket entitled me to actually hear the show, rather than learn all about their latest diet that wasn't working.

Yeah. A special level of hell.