Some while back, I noted I had written no posts at all in December, last year. In fact, I was, at the time, having a blogging crisis (I am fond of the artistic licence to exaggerate) during which I came very, very close to giving it up altogether. Oh, thank God I didn't, because it would have been unthinkable...but I note I have not exactly been particularly wordy recently either. This is, of course, to do with the climate and the weather and the darkness - location, location, location, in other words, dear Reader. Living a stone's throw from the North Pole has its lighter and its darker sides, and currently, we are going through the latter. It has a strange, flattening effect on one's writing (at least this is as convenient an excuse as any I'm likely to come up with before December's done again, and I still don't have a December post to my name). Weirdly enough, the darkness does lend itself to some lovely photography (excuse me while I blow my own trumpet).
These pictures, dear Reader, are from my balcony, and depict not the constellations above me (a chance to see them would be a fine thing in current prevailing weather conditions) but a very wet type of sleet falling.
I am so fond of these photos (I took a couple a few weeks or so ago, when we first had a light dusting of sleet) that I have already got several up on my flickr site, and I'm too embarrassed to flood more and more of the same thing there (don't ask me why - it is as much my site as this one, so I should be allowed to do whatever dorky thing I like there. Mostly, I do, too, but for some reason, these (oh God) artsier efforts make me feel shy). Which is why I am treating you, dear Reader, to them, here on my bloggy. Here, have another one (sorry, but I do like them an awful lot).
And because I do like you, too, an awful lot, although I've been neglecting to say much, here's one more showing my downwards view as well as the galaxies of snow. I think it has a distinct stage-lit feeling to it. The blogger enters, upstage left...she is going home.
Monday, December 03, 2007
I will have a December post if it kills me
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
56 comments:
Oddly enough, I am missing darkness. London's light pollution has robbed me of the night skies and, as I realised after reading your post, also of the opportunity to take artsy pictures of any wet sleet which happens to be passing. Woe is me...
Anna! I am gratified and flattered that you have chosen to address me personally. Tush tush, of course you have - "dear Reader" several times and with that telling capital letter. And, as my name is RTS, it had me blushing with pleasure, I can tell you. And sending me lovely photos from your balcony too, and saying you like me an awful lot - well, I wouldn't be surprised if some people get jealous, but hey, I don't mind if others share them too. Because I'm like that, Ms FomP - generous to the bone.
But where were we? The darkness, oh the darkness. Godammit all to blistering synchronicity, but I've been talking light boxes here on Albion's shore. Not that I've ever thought of myself as suffering from S.A.D. (and I can be as miserable or otherwise in summer as in winter) but a couple of people I know are singing hallelujahs about this box having turned their lives around. And I'm thinking about that.
Well good to see you. My son is somewhere in your neck of the woods - Sweden, actually, chasing the darkness to some arctic circle town and coming back via somewhere beginning with F.
I realise I may be in a minority of one here, but I don't like snow. I'm impressed with the geometrical beauty of snowflakes, but like enemas and cow slaughter, it's not something I want to see up close and personal.
Your photos are just fine :o)
er - and Kahless has left you a note at my place.
Finally a solution to unsquish the link to post a comment
:-)
unsquish = my slang for unsquashing btw.
Beautiful photo's and I hope whatever has made you cross melts like the snow!
Lovely stuff Anna, I shall come back and look at these pictures plenty of times I'm sure, they're great.
Personally I can't get enough of snow since we don't really have it round these parts any more: it would be nice to have a proper, cold, snowy winter. I imagine that the darkness does make one rather weary and flat though.
I'm very glad too that you didn't give up on your blog last December :)
At last, thanks to Signs and Kahless,
I can post a comment - I get very confused when sites change and I have to find my slow way round again.
As ever, Anna, thank you for the pictures - these are mesmerizing. Light in our darkness.
Hei Tohtori Mutta, lovely to see you, and what an odd synchronicitiesque thing we have going - I have just recently bemoaned our lack of darkness on an exchange on one of my previous batch of snow photos. We do still get proper darkness during clear skies, but woe is me, when it's overcast (most all the time, this time of the year), the night (alright, the dark-hours) sky (think between 3:30 pm to 9:30 am) acquires a horrendous, browney-orangey, post-apocalyptic colour of nuclear holocaust - a darkness tainted, evil, impure, unhealthy, soul-sucking. The beautiful black you see behind the snowflakes in these shots is just due to the photographic effort of the flash only lighting the closest couple of metres. For a glimpse of the true colour of the sky (and it does look much better on camera than in real life), have a look, if you will, over .
Why Signs, after all that we've been through, why should you be surprised at all if I address you every now and then (but yes, very generous, altruistic, and generally good of you to allow others a look at my flakey shots, too)?
As it happens, Ms Synchro in Albion, I have one of those light boxes. I do. It is ten years old this autumn, and I do swear by it, although I bought it when they, the first consumer generation of these things, were being sold away to make way for snazzier, more modern models, with technological advances such as an on-off switch (oh brave new world that hath such things in it) - mine has a wall plug (well they were on-off switches for us). This year, incidentally, they have brought out an alarm clock with such a lamp to it, and suddenly, I am sorely tempted - I would prefer waking up to beautiful light rather than to hideous sound any day. I can be miserable as sin with the best of them any time of the day and year, but SAD does affect me in the lack-of-energy way, quite seriously.
Now that was an interesting paragraph, wasn't it? Gordon Bennett, I think SAD is effecting my interestingness, that elusive quality, quite detrimentally, too. Oh bugger and bollocks. Listen, esteemedly beloved Signsikins of the Kolmio, I hope your son has a fabulous time somewhere beginning with F (Faroes? Fidzi? France? Fuerteventura? Falklands?) (well, I hope he doesn't hate Sweden, either). I read at your house the temperatures he's experiencing are at -12 C and I assure you that is about as pleasant as it can be. Nippy enough to give you the rosy cheeks of winter (guaranteed no sleet or slush) without being beyond a joke. I can tell you (you may want to mention this to him, too) that at -20 C the moisture (not to say snot) which occurs naturally inside one's nose (particularly at those temperatures) goes icy-crispy, and at -30 C one's eyeballs start to feel a little stiff - not frozen, no no, but their movement does acquire a certain solidity. A friend told me of a New Year's - let's, for romanticism's sake, say it was the millenium, which was a very cold one - when they popped open a shootingly-potent bottle of bubbly (outdoors) at midnight, only to be covered in flakes of frozen champagne. I love that image, I find it very taiga romantic and Tom Waitsy.
Ha. Szwqszzwqagier, that is high praise indeed, and I thank you for it. I actually do like snow, but am very opposed to sleet, which is only tolerable photographically. Up close and personal, sleet is miserable and wetter than an equal volume of water. Ewgh.
However, just as soon as we get proper snow, I'll see if I can't catch some highly geometric flakes to impress you with. It's just what with global warming and all (and this is a fact, the winters were colder when I was a child), we mostly get the other, unappreciable-up-close-and-personal stuff. Oh woe.
Unsquished Kahless, hello and shwmae. Shwd wyt ti heno? Mae'n iawn to see you here at fy dy (Jesus, am I overdoing the mutations here? I think I may well be. But you do say "coffi nei de", note mutation te -> de. Hmm. We move on swiftly, hoping people are so impressed with my Welsh skills they'll neglect to call me on the mutation question). I am glad you found your way here into comments, although I would still require an explanation to what in the name of everything you mean by my links being "squidged"?
I am also glad and pleased you like my photies, and thank you, what made me cross I'm just going to have to live with...or get someone to just make it go away for me. We'll see how it all unfolds (or melts - the snow here is doing a fair amount of the latter, sadly).
Hei housut, good to see you, and absolutely, I would dearly love a proper winter as well. I actually really like having four seasons, and having tried life in the tropics also, I know the sunshine-and-warmth-all-year-round thing doesn't really appeal to me (and, poor buggers, they never have longer days with beautiful early dawns and long extended dusks - the tropical sun used to really offend me, the way it shot up into the sky all aggressive like, and then just went and plunged out with never a lingeringness in sight. No, give me the filthy days of November-December in exchange any day, as long as I get to keep the slow sun) (this doesn't, however, mean that I'd be willing to give up my right to harp endlessly about the darkness/weather/climate/sleet/slush/etc. Just saying in advance, okay?)
Glad you liked the piccies - tell me, do they do this freaky thing whereupon they automatically download onto your computer if you click on them, instead of just showing up the enlarged original version on the screen? For some exasperating reason, they do so for me, but it took forever and a day for me to get blogger to upload them, so I just couldn't face taking them down and trying again.
And thank you, I am very glad I didn't give up blogging either.
"Either" is grammatically wrong in that comment to young housut there. Just so as you know, dear Reader. Or, more accurately, just so as you know I know. It should read more like "I, too, am very glad etc".
Speaking of dear Reader - Signs, thank you for directing me to Kahless' message at yours, and also for the guidance you've given people there in the navigation around my (exceedingly beautifully, I would have to say) redecorated house of future and past.
This has not been a reply, this has been a note. Just saying.
Nicola of the Slow Way (usually, dear heart, the best way, wouldn't you agree?) - it is a delight to see you here and my thanks go to Signs and Kahless also (thank you, Signs and Kahless) for helping you find your way. And oh, what praise you come bearing, I am fairly blushing, because mesmerizing is quite a word. Stop it already, it's too nice. But yes, trying to find beauty is a light in the darkness of, well, everything dark. I found discovering that falling snow can be recorded in this way delightful, and the end result being attractive to look at was a bonus. I am very pleased to know you and others have found the pictures attractive, too.
We miss you when you are not there.
We also understand the situation.
xx
So, to cheer you up, check out the legs and be envious.
.
http://tinyurl.com/2g6nu8
.
ButWhy? is correct that light pollution is an unseen darkness.
We need to have choice in these matters.
And it won't happen, easily.
Nice photos AnnaMR. I'm pleased that you haven't gone into hybernation completely.
Hello Merkin, sweet of you to say so (missing etc). Still having to sit down and breathe deeply after the link you showed me, though.
And light pollution - yes, this is a real problem. Funny how sad it makes one to think there's no real darkness to be had, while simultaneously feeling completely squished to the ground in the soul due to a lack of light. But maybe we'll all get what we wanted - oil will run out in what, twenty years (don't tell me they've been saying that for forty years, I know I know) and then we can all return to living as primitively as you like.
Hei Bindi - you sort of snuck in there, for some reason my comment notification is being very erratic and it said nothing whatsoever about you leaving a comment( this FAO also those who like to leave comments at old posts - yes, you - I may not know you've been, because many things are currently pear-shaped with blogger). I will tell you and you alone that I actually slept till four in the afternoon today (it is Independence Day, a national holiday, which made such an excess possible) - a personal record that speaks highly of my hibernation capacity. Glad you liked the photos - it is possibly a bit cheaty to post a few photos and then waffle down here in comments, but what can you do. Nothing. It is my blog and I'll behave badly on it if I can.
Hope all is well in the upside-down lands, Bindi.
Anna,
But of course. There I was thinking that just because you lived somewhere with intermittent perpetual darkness (?!?), that black lack of colour might actually not be a trick of contrast. How silly of me...
Tohtori ButWhyser (quite good, no?), may I offer you my congratulations on coining the term intermittent perpetual darkness. Like it a lot.
But yes, sadly, the black lack of colour is not what we see in reality. Shame, shame. Black is beautiful, as I've already harped on about previously. I have quite a vantage point over the city and the metropolitan area, and looking at the various central offices of big corporations etc which are lit night and day it does occasionally occur to me that those lights might be switched off during non-office hours. It might not bring back black, but it would certainly go some way towards taking away that horrid glow on the clouds.
Hi anna, yes the pictures do do that, but yours aren't the only ones, I've noticed it happen on other blogs too. Thank you for such a lengthy and generous response! Much appreciated - you know how to make us feel at home round these parts.
Why housut, you are most welcome. Although I am obviously pleased you feel welcome (you should, you are), I don't specifically make an effort just to be polite and welcoming, you know - it's simply nice to natter, on occasion.
That thing about the photos annoys me.
Anna,
Why, thankyou. You are, of course, most welcome to the IP on any phrases I might inadvertently coin whilst hanging out here. I must admit I was rather taken by Merkin's "unseen darkness of light pollution" (slight paraphrase there, I think). Most oxymoronically satisfying. Roll on that primitive living...
Hei Anna,
if you go to my Random blog and look at the photo on the lhs it is a screen print of your blog.
Hopefully you will be able to see what I mean by your 'post a comment' link being squidged
You may need to use a magnifying glass!
Hei Mutta - are you being serious? I can't possibly take over something you've coined, just because you were here when you coined it. No no, you keep the royalties (and I do admit I steal phrases and terminology quite profoundly, on occasion, but quite often credit the people I thieve from, too). (I liked Merkin's phrase, too, as it happens.) And yes, roll on primitive living. There is a certain bleak satisfaction in the idea of spending my pension years (oh a long way off yet) in a log cabin lit by nothing but a candle, warmed by nothing but a fire from sticks I've had to gather myself and which I've carried home, through the driving sleet, on a huge bunch on my hunched back. No, no there isn't actually, but I would sometimes like to escape to the wilderness, so that much of it is true.
Kahless - okay. I see what you mean. Or don't see, more to the point. After your house, I hastened over to Firefox to check, and true, true, my comments link has gone rather small, so it's not just your computer (my first thought, of course). I wonder if IE is doing the same? Anyone? Because on Safari, the link is dainty but by no means microscopic.
This may need adjusting. On the other hand, I think if you know it's there, you can still click on it, small as it is. However, Kahless, thank you for satisfying my curiosity, and I remain, yours faithfully,
Squidge
Ah Squidge,
Alas I am not the only one as Signs did say she had the problem.
The comments link is too small for me to click on, and as someone as not as bright as Signs, I needed her direction to be able to talk to you.
The upside is that you will not be bothered by spammers!
Tally ho!
Most edible Foreigner, hei. Beautiful pictures. They go very well with the previous (balcony) set you took, by the way. Highly gorgeous. I'm very impressed by the capturing of snow. Jealous, too, as it goes.
Anyway, I hacked into your account and sorted the comments thing - no, please, you can thank me later - so it should be easy enough now for the Firefox guys to see where to offload their finger-mouth words. No idea about IE, however.
Incidentally, your password - "how I crave that hot thrusting pony" - may need changed. Everyone uses that.
No light pollution here, sweetheart. The night skies are just as clear as day. (that makes sense to me, so watch your step.)
Disorderly hugs etc....
TPE
Kahless - funny you should say that, because I am very very rarely bothered by spammers - but have only today received a letter (=comment) from an anonymous person a few posts further down which uncannily resembles spam. I shall go and deal with it after I've taken a pleasant moment nattering with people who do have names, over here (if you're interested, it is down in the North Finchley post, I think).
Yes, I am most grateful for dear Signs for providing some traffic signs while things have been too tiny in some browsers. I believe the thing is fixed now, though, so I'm hopeful that it'll be all the easier for you, Signs, and other Firefox folk to come and say something to me here.
(There was a Tally Ho Corner in North Finchley. No, really. I lived right down the street from it.)
Hot thrusting poni! How I have craved your visits. Simply poni divine to see you here and yes, thank you and kiitos (with a diolch yn fawr iawn and some спосибо thrown in, just to show off a bit, okay?) for your hackery fixing of my things (and life). No, I insist - you are super html tyger and my gratitude knows no bounds. (As for the password - yes, I thought it was possibly a bit too obvious. I shall have to think of a new one, I suppose, although I am particularly fond of it in a most sentimental way.)
Now I feel certain that you know I am squirming with a disorderly delight at your praise for my photies. There is therefore no need for me to go into that any further, given that this is a family site and everything (no, hang on a minute, this isn't. Well, I am squirming an awful lot, okay McPoni? An awful lot). Thank you and a deep curtsey, I am so glad you liked them. And your clear-as-day night skies not only make perfect sense to me, too, but also bring on pangs of envy and longing. Ah, for some real darkness (not least in the company of a dark horse of hot html thrusting action). Enjoy it for me too, won't you, sweetest friend.
Again, I must emphasise how very happy I was to find you here. Your disorderly hugs (etc) are savoured and treasured, and returned in kind, with some melting Ice Maiden kisses to boot. And a snowflake on your nose.
xxxxx ❄
Erm...looking at the last couple of comments I feel like I'm interrupting :)
But yes, as a Firefox user I now see the comments tag clearly, which is a great help.
Hello, good Anna!
First, I too, have been in semi-hibernation so have not been visiting (anyone) much. Tis marvellous to see you.
Second, I do like your photos, they convey silence and peace. Very nice indeed.
Mell D
Shagtastic Finlander, hei. That was a really hostile response and I feel quite hurt by it. Oh no, my mistake, it was a love attack.
I think you probably fancy me a wee bit, you know. I don't blame you, Snow Muncher, don't worry - I'm an extremely lovable sort of a guy - but I do worry that your working day may be affected by your uncontrollable need to jump me and ride my face off. It's a worry, certainly. I kind of bet that you just can't get me out of your mind, poor thing.
Hey, delighted to hear that you didn't object to having your account totally hacked and your privacy violated. Needs must, Anna Penguin, needs must. For some reason the pixel setting in your comments footer was set at 1%. I changed it to 85% and everything seems to be tickety-boo now. (Sorry for using technical terms, by the way, I realise that as a girl you may find this hard to follow. Maybe just concentrate on sewing, k?)
How are you today, anyway? You know those artificial light things? I'm just not sure about them at all. I can't decide if I like them or not or whether they make any difference. I've never actually used one so it's sort of hard to come to any kind of a decision, really. Please don't think that this will stop me from talking about them with seeming authority in the future, though.
Right, I should shut my face and get a move on. Happy love to you, glorious Finny.
TPE
(Seriously, gorgeous pictures)
Hei housut, and don't you worry, my trusty-thrusty Hacker McPoni and I are perfectly okay about conducting our interactions in blog-public (correct me if I'm wrong, McHacker, but I don't think I am). I am very glad the problem's fixed, though (thank you, Mac the Hack), and pleased that it's easy enough for you and others to say stuff here.
Why, kind Ms Dark, how nice to see you. Very glad you seem to like the piccies (I am beginning to feel a little embarrassed about the way I went on about them in the post - maybe people don't realise my tongue was firmly embedded in my cheek in the highest praise bits anyway? I mean, I like them and all that, but am not trying to claim they are art or something) (seriously, I'm not). And hey, London Girl, there's no need to feel funny about hibernating and not visiting, or about coming back after the same, because I know a thing or two about hibernating like a bear or a penguin. Yes I do. You can come and go as you please (this applies to everyone else, too, okay?) and feel certain that it's always lovely to see you here, and no tabs on visit frequency are kept.
Hoping all is well etc.
Hostile? Shaggy McHacker, are you sure? Oh...oh. Oh I see. You would be referring to the snowflake? Oh dearest friend of highest edibility, please feel very sure that it was only a single, perfectly-formed snowflake, light, geometric, gorgeous, to match your single, light, geometric, perfectly-formed and gorgeous nose. Okay? And look, let me just kiss it off then, to make your nosey all warm again. There. All better now.
As usual, you are right - I think I do fancy you a wee bit, you know (sshhhh - this is a secret). As you said, this is a worry, most certainly. Nevermind the work environment - I am thinking (and worrying) about my environment on a much larger scale. So okay, the hot fancies of a single snow-munching Ice Maiden can't maybe effect the warming climate conditions on a planetary scale, but I am deffo beginning to feel concerned that the totally shite winter we in Helsinki are having so far may be due to my icey heart throbbing for you a wee bit too hotly. My love for you is effecting the micro-climate of Helsinki, my friend. Do something about it, save my igloo, all of winter, and the day. Please.
What else? That was some very involved gobbledygook you came up with about pixels and things. It made my lady-brain fairly boggle, as I was winding my bobbins and trying to fathom what on earth you were telling me. You know, you men are just so dashingly talented, and you, of course, are the most dashingly talented amongst men. So no wonder I had trouble threading my needles as I contemplated your words. But of course I didn't and wouldn't object to you totally hacking and violating my privacy (or me or) my account. This is the very stuff daydreams are made of, McHackamac, and I would be a very stupid goose of a Penguin indeed if I didn't know a good thing when it came violating my privacy and hacking my bloggy. Yes. And I'm not. Stupid. Not that stupid, anyhow.
Anyway, while my hot heat for you is melting a hole in the ozone layer and stopping us from continuing life as we know it, in igloos, it is still dark and I light my flat with one of those glaringly-bright lamps on occasion, and to me it feels good (although the light really is too bright for ordinary use, truth to tell). We can have a blog-comments-at-dawn type of a stand-off on the topic of these lamps, hottest McHack, on the morning of your choosing. Please, however, remember, that we won't have a dawn till sometime late January - early February.
And sorry, but that's one time when I know you've been wrong - you should not shut your face and get a move on. Come back, come back, keep finger-talking to me... and happy love to you, glorious Scotty, as it really makes me happy to have you here.
Anna Penguin
(Seriously - thank you. Gorgeous letter, gorgeous hack job, gorgeous friend.)
Fancy meeting you here! I tripped up on your blog's doorstep via Rebecca's lovely video which I have been shamelessly showing off to all and sundry! Tally Ho Corner is not a million miles from where I used to live either (New Barnet). It really is a small world, Anna!
Hi Anna
I thought I'd put a comment on this post but I must have failed the wretched word verification test (again!). Anyway - love these photos.
xxx
Pants
Hei Navas, how utterly charming to find you visiting me. But of course you'd be seeing me here, because this really is where I mostly am, having recently taken the virtual monastic vow and given up life on the outside (some call it the Real World, but I recent the implication that this my beautiful house (and those of others) and the interactions, conversations, and the fun and games etc we have here wouldn't be real). You are most heartily welcome, and feel most free to come calling whenever the mood grabs you. But tell me, do, what do you mean you stumbled on my doorstep via Rebecca's lovely video? Did you run a search on what sites link to it, or something?
The world truly is very small, Navas, because when I first arrived in London(ish) (scarily, it'll be twenty years ago in a matter of weeks - it was something like the second or third of January, 1988) I stayed in New Barnet. Fancy that. When were you there?
As I said, Navas, totally lovely to find you here, and do nip in again.
Ms Pants, brilliant to see you and very glad indeed you liked the photos. The word verification thing is a bit of a pain, it has to be said, and there have been occasions when I've wondered whether I should just be rid of it altogether. On the other hand, people (well, mainly Signs) use the words created therein to tell the future (of my past) (and theirs), and sometimes come up with things truly funny, too. And it would be a shame to lose that. Enormously pleased you bothered coming back and battling with the damned things again, though, Pöksyt of Pants, because it's really nice to see you.
Under videos on YouTube you can see how people have come to the video through various other web sites. It's called 'Links'. Being the curious sort, I clicked on that and found a list of five sites. Your blog was third one on the list. I clicked randomly, not knowing where I'd end up. I left New Barnet when I was 18, I suppose....not saying how long ago that was precisely, but I've been up here since before Rebecca was born! My mother went back to live in the area, having been up here for a number of years, so I still have connections with Barnet.
I have an undeveloped and intermittent blog elsewhere on Blogger that I recently took my feather duster to. The cobwebs had nearly taken over!
Hei again Navas...sorry it took me a bit to get back. It's beginning to sound like you actually come from New Barnet, but that you left a wee while before I was there. But yes, I'm beginning to understand your surprise at finding me again. And apropos of all that, you mention shamelessly showing off Rebecca's video to all and sundry - you should keep on doing just so, as shamelessly as you like, because you have plenty reason to be as proud as can be. I'll nip over to your House of Cobwebs now, to have a snoop around. Be seeing you, Navas...
By the way, there's a horrible spelling error in my reply to Navas, upthread. Resent, not recent. What an utter dork. But it does sometimes happen that you know something is wrong with something you've written, and you just can't see it although it is staring you in the face, large as life and twice as wrong (at least it happens to me, okay?). Oh for an editing function on comments, that's all I can say.
New Barnet? Well, I was born in London but lived in Hackney for the first few years of my life, until my parents decided they didn't want me to grow up sounding like a Cockney! As neither of my parents are of English descent, I've never quite decided where I'm from.
Well, I'm in the position to say they succeeded in making you sound not-Cockney, Navas (although maybe you can turn a bit of cor blimey guv as well?).
It took me a few seconds to work out how you knew what I sounded like. At first I thought you'd been talking to Rebecca (who was born with a remarkably smart accent!) but then remembered you'd seen the films.
:-)
Oh yes. I was hoping to confuse you for a bit with what I said, Navas my dear, so I'm delighted to know my plan worked. Ha. And Rebecca does have a remarkably smart accent, absolutely. You may or may not know I played her mum in Six Characters in Search of an Author, and there was one point during rehearsals when Adrian (directing) said to her, "Could you try to sound a bit more like her [indicates me]?" and I could see the confusion in Rebecca's face, so I helped her out and said "Adrian means more common, Rebecca"... and he did. (Although I hasten to add I can put on more cultivated tones as well, if the mood grabs me. At least for stage and show.)
Oh yuck. You're not common are you, Anna Penguin? That would be horrible, just horrible. I hope to goodness you don't consort with working class people? Hmm? Ew. What a thought. Them folks can't speak proper and is needing total soaping. The boy Adrian done good to chastise you, innit.
Yes, okay, I'll be quiet. Hei, how are you doing today? That was some answer you gave me, by the way. Sorry about taking forever to get back to you, Foreigner, but I've been super busy with Christmas stuff and maintaining my jealousy-inducing good looks and admirable sense of perspective.
Yes. I've had this sort of thing before. Quite often micro-climates are affected by the throbbing heat that emanates from the hearts of the truly smitten. I sometimes forget just how wonderful I am - not often, granted - and simply take it as a given that weather systems will be corrupted as a direct result of my manly magnificence and so barely give it a second thought. It's a worry, certainly.
Hmm. My talk of pixels seems to have confused you, however. Never fear, girl person, all you need to know is that everything has been taken care of. Brilliant, isn't it? A benign hacker - what were the chances? I look forward to violating your privacy most grievously in the future, time and time again.
God, it's freezing tonight. Not as cold as you have it, I'll bet, but properly cold all the same. My fingers are too numb to engage you in a fight about those lamp things, Anna MR, so I'll just content myself with pointing out that I'm right. I know, I know - I haven't actually said anything yet or made any points, but I'm still right. Do you see how easy it is to avoid disputes and arguments and bloodshed? Simple.
Incidentally, it's like stumbling into a meeting of Proxifiers Anonymous in here. Your guests seem to cherish their (imagined) anonymity on the internet. What's that all about? We are surrounded, Penguin....they're coming, the faceless ones are coming. The horror, the horror.
Wait. You probably don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you - what, with you being a girl and everything? Come to daddy and all will be revealed (you need to imagine a demonic laugh right about....now.)
Sleep well, beautiful human.
Kissingly yours,
TPE
TPE - I hope Anna won't mind me responding to you here - don't imagine that I am one of the faceless ones, at least Anna knows exactly who I am. However, to me, you are one of the anonymous contributors of whom you speak.
Should I be afraid?
(We hear the Ice Maiden singing in the not-so-icy fields of ice, which are her native abode but which her love hath melteth: "My heart belongs to daddy,
and my daddy, he treats it so well...")
Oh, hello and hei, McDaddy Englishman. It was totally gorgeous to find you here today. In fact, I'm so happy I don't feel any need to weep and wail (any more) about the cruel-heartless-beastie way you just abandoned me here with the Faceless Monsters of Proxification (oh, I was so frightened...but now you're here, so it's all going to turn out well. If a little acceleratedly climate-changed). I have been wondering how come these critters have been cropping up so much lately. It is odd, but I have no fear, as long as your hoof and mane protect me.
Listen, honey, surely you have no need for maintaining your swoon-inducingly handsome good looks? Stop being so modest. I know for a fact you are born beautiful and need to do nothing whatsoever about self-beautification. Nor do you need to do anything at all about your beatification, either, because I am praying most fervently in your name every night (sometimes in the mornings too - I am on holiday, after all) and the fact that you are still alive (thank God) isn't going to stop me from doing so. Yes.
(I am going off on one. I can tell. Your fault, obviously, because what's a girl to do? A benign hacker of startling gorgeousness grievously violating her privacy - she is allowed to sound a little out of this world (and her head), surely?)
Here, give me your freezing fingers, I'll rub them warm for you. No no, no need to thank me, it is the least I can do, and after all you've done for me, well, I am forever in your debt.
Catching your kisses swooningly. Come again soon, beloved Englishman. The doors are always open for you (not that you couldn't hack your way in even if they slammed shut in the night, but you know what I mean).
xxx
TPE, I hope you won't mind me responding to Navas here - but only in the matter that is in my jurisdiction. Sooooooo -
Hei Navas, no, no, no and NO, I don't mind one bit you talking to TPE here. I like it when people come here and talk. No apologising for talking off-topic or to another guest or for swearing or being politically incorrect or, really, for anything - everything goes (except being actually unfriendly to another guest, which neither one of you is. Just saying the fundamental rule, in case the Faceless Mouth-Breathers are watching/reading/listening in).
So, that said, I'll let TPE introduce himself himself. (But yes, Navas, be afraid, be very afraid. He is frighteningly charming.)
Hot and lusty penguin, hei. The proxify guys are just plain weird and you certainly wouldn't catch me becoming a member of such a strange cult, I'll tell you that for free. There are now seven suspects on this page of yours - as you by now know - and one of those people is you. Wtf? You have sold out, surely? Shocking.
Are you drinking snow in preparation for greeting the new year, foreigner? Remember to put ice in your drink, okay? I imagine most Finlanders are outside right now, roaming the woods, dressed in bearskins, howling at the moon, chuntering fevered incantations and doing weirdy pagan dances. You people are so quaint.
I think 2008 will be the year that Finland finally gets transistor radios and penicillin, you know. I'm super pleased for you, Snow White, because you have borne your backwardness with great dignity and resolve and only mild dribbling. Good girl.
Happy New Year, Igloo Face. I want to spend even more time with you in 2008. So watch it.
With love - real, proper, lovely love - and all sorts of stuff....
Jamie x
Hello Navas, how do you do? I'm not sure that we've crossed paths before, but I've seen you here, certainly, and have been to your bloggy and Flickr palace.
Of course Anna MR won't mind you addressing me. This is one of the (many) reasons I hang about here like a menace - she's polite, properly conversational (putting a whole host of English-speaking and utterly selfish bloggers to shame) and encourages people to, you know, talk to one another. And I don't mind you addressing me, either.
In fact, it's rather a pleasant surprise. I spent about a year saying hello to loads of people in the comments sections of blogs, but grew tired of their sloppy manners and so just gave up. Nowadays, unless its someone I really like or already know, I adhere to a strict policy of ignoring the hell out of everyone unless they happen to say hello first. Depressing, but true. You live and learn, I suppose.
Where were we? Yes, don't worry, I was there (skulking in the background) as you revealed yourself as Rebecca's mother over at Anna's Flickr home. That was v. funny, really, and I enjoyed it. So I do know that she knows just exactly who you are. And now you know that I know that she knows. And, if she's reading this, Anna will now know that you know that I knew that she knew who you were. So that's pretty good, isn't it? Miles better to clear everything up, I feel.
Anyhoo, I was really only referring to the habit of joining these proxifying services (like proxify.com) that so many people seem to like doing. This means that the blog host doesn't know who has visited their site unless the visitor chooses to leave a comment, because the proxified crowd don't leave a telltale IP address in their wake (they hope).
This was the facelessness I referred to.
But yes, good point - to you, I am anonymous. I suppose, using your rather narrow terms, then everyone is pretty anonymous - unless they happen to have a link with one another before coming into contact out here in space. Anna was anonymous to me and I was anonymous to her, in fact, when we first collided too many months ago. The exchange of hundreds of thousands of words - either in here, on my blog, by email or whatever - has rather stripped this anonymity away. This leads to a natural desire to talk on the phone, of course, and Anna MR now owes me thousands of Euros in phone bills. This, in turn, leads to an equally natural desire to let the other person into your life, to become friends, to look out for them...that sort of thing. In the course of all of this, unfortunately, our grubby wee Finnish hostess here has found out just exactly who I am and - possibly disastrously - exactly where I live.
But should you be afraid? Hmm. I wouldn't recommend running out into the street screaming for help or anything - this would seem like an overreaction, perhaps, to the matter at hand - but maybe you should check the back door is locked, double check the windows and generally keep your wits about you. Not fear, exactly, just a heightened sense of caution. I hope that helps.
Lovely to meet you, Navas. Have a very Happy New Year.
Kind regards etc....
TPE
OH. TPE, McPoni J Daddy, you come wearing a cloak of proxifying darkness. It rather suits you, although I do know you are my white knight in shining armour really, aren't you?
Just thanking you for your lovely words up there. Yes, you know me well - I was howling at the moon in my bearskin frock, expressing my love and general quaintness (and dribbling, but only mildly).
Looking forward to even more time spent with you. 2008 looks to be a good year for Maidens of the Igloo Tribe (although they can keep penicillin, I am allergic to it quite dangerously violently).
Happy New Year to you too, my gorgeous friend. I love you - yes, with real, proper, lovely love, and all sorts of stuff, too.
x
Is it wrong that I feel a certain something when you call me "Daddy"? Don't, for the love of baby Jesus, answer that question, Finlander. The police read blogs, too, you know. And The Queen.
Hei and hi and thanks for the thanks. No need for all that, however, as the pleasure was all mine. (Obviously, if you hadn't said thanks, I would have badmouthed you behind your back and sent threatening letters to your workplace - but we don't need to worry about all that now, it's water under a bridge that we never even reached. Phew.)
Thank you for the best response I've ever had anywhere. Had I been a girl, there is a good chance I might have disgraced myself and blubbed gently like a weakling. Thank God, then, that I'm a member of the stronger and fairer sex. Men totally rule. Hurrah.
Right. I'm actually planning on seeing you in a more recent post of yours, so I'll allow you this one opportunity to be totally rude and ignore me here.
Love (and pretty rough biting, actually)
TPE x
Ignore you, Poni McDaddy (you maybe shouldn't have said that thing about that something)? You? Here or anywhere, that's pretty much an impossibility, sweetness, as you should know by now.
I thank God on a daily basis about you being a member of the stronger and fairer sex, too, so snap. I also give thanks for you being a member of the human race, and - what were the chances - being born on the same planet as I, and, what's even better, concurrently with me. What if I'd had to contend myself about reading about your escapades in the Bible, for instance? That would have left me religious, certainly, but also rather more unfulfilled.
Anyway. Nursing my bites, looking out for you on a more recent post of mine...sending love from here.
x
The Police and The Queen and Big Brother are all watching you. So watch it.
Well shiver me timbers, Long John Silver, fancy seeing you here. Your arrival is strangely well-timed, as it came just as I was supposed to be starting what I'm really supposed to be doing. It must be true, then - you have gone over to The Other Side, and are now in league with the police, The Queen, and Big Brother.
"Who controls the past controls the future
who controls the present controls the past."
Hm. I was hoping I could somehow, you know, cleverly link that to my blog title, what with all the futures and pasts and stuff, whoever controls the future of my past cetra cetra. But it just doesn't seem to be happening, and I have spent a disgraceful amount of time on it. Ah well. Slavery is Freedom. Or something.
Be seeing you, Long John...
Post a Comment