Words meme
Jul. 17th, 2009 02:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
essayelThe way this works is that you type "Words!" in a comment box and I'll give you five words or phrases that I associate with you, then you go and make a post about them in your own journal!
I tagged![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yakalskovich and got:
Religion: this is a knotty one for me because I am NOT religious. I think that organised religions are the bane of mankind - as if humans don't find enough to fight over without nitpicking at dogma. However I do believe in The Great Good - the guiding principle of which is 'do unto others as you would prefer them to do unto you, as long as you've asked first and they've said 'yeah, cool'.' Which means that pretty much anything goes as long as all parties involved have not only agreed but have given an INFORMED consent. I also believe that what I will call God for lack of any other readily understandable term, has a very light hand upon us and ninety-nine point nine nine nine etc times out any hundred, miracles occur through the actions of other human beings. Like the joke about the man standing in his flooding house. A fireman came by in a Landrover and said, "hop in" but the man said, "Go rescue someone who needs it. I am a believer and God will rescue me". He gave the same reply to the policeman in the boat who spotted him leaning out of the upstairs window and again to the helicopter pilot who extended a hand to where he was clinging to the roof. But eventually he drowned and at the Pearly Gates he said to Peter "Why did God forsake me?" And Peter said, "Well, we sent a Landrover, a boat and a helicopter..." And if, as many religions do, we believe that God is all knowing and all powerful I reckon he might well show a million different faces to mankind so everyone gets the kind of religion that suits their needs and mindset best and it's a bit pointless squabbling over whose is best. Also, that moment when you see/hear/feel something and your breath goes back and you think 'I want to remember this FOREVER' - that moment has God smiling and blushing and saying "yeah, good innit?" You don't have to use words written by old dead white guys to give praise.
/heresy
The Great War or World War I: I've known about this all my life. ALL of it. My grandfather joined the Enniskillen Fusiliers with a gang of his mates in 1914, thinking it would be over by Christmas. He was in Palestine, Gallipoli, got wounded, convalesced on Malta and when fit was sent to the the Western Front. When I was very small my parents and I lived with him and my grandmother, and he used to tell me stories about 'what he did in the war'. I can remember him sitting on the windsor chair by my cot and watching him through the bars. We moved out when I was two and a half so lord knows how old I was then. These stories made a great impression on me. He told me about how one day the sergeant said, "One pace forward anyone who can ride a bike" and grandad took the pace and found himself transferred to the Bicycle Corps. He told me about how he once saw T E Lawrence. He told me how they dumped the bikes and how he ended up in a heavy machine gun battery, packing the guns and ammo onto mules.
Some of it might even have been true. He didn't tell me about the fighting or about why he had nightmares for the whole of the rest of his life but the night my grandmother died he told Mum. He told her about the smell of the dead. About the feel of shrapnel working further into a wound. About a firing squad to kill a sixteen year old boy who had frozen with terror and so 'displayed cowardice in the face of the enemy'.
A while ago I started writing bits of a piece of fiction about a war artist. I'd really like to work it up into a proper story but ... I dunno. I'd feel I really HAD to get every single nuance right, just the same as if writing about people from a very different ethnic background, I feel that if I can't get it 100% correct it's better not to try.
Excel sheets: I used to have a nice little system where I had excel sheets for all my records at work. I could have lots of useful information sorted in various ways, add bits, take away bits and generally do an efficient job. Now I try to do all that by hand and since my working space has changed radically I do a lot of it on my lap. Excel may be pants in comparison with some other methods of storing data but it really does beat handwriting on A3 paper into a cocked hat.yakalskovich has her own horrible problems involving Excel, spending hours and hours going over sheets to extract data and we bitch together misetably about it, hence it being mentioned here.
Cooking: I used to be a very good cook until my husband got interested in it and - well, men do things PROPERLY don't they? They buy books and fancy pieces of equipment and spend 4 days and a whole weeks housekeeping preparing one perfect meal. So I sort of lost interest and now just do the "OMG it's Wednesday, we've run out of food, what can I make with a bit of pasta, a can of corned beef and some soup?" type cooking. None of us has died yet.
Being proud of my kids: I am, sort of. Yeah. I am, now I come to think about it, even though there are times when I could scream with frustration. Mike is doing a horrible, heart-breaking job with grace and good humour and still find time and energy to advise me on, totally impractical, ways of being green. Jen is bright and funny, as well as demanding, and her first play, an unholy union of Commedia D'arte and French farce, is being performed by Gwent Young People's Theatre next weekend. Both delight me as much as they exasperate me. I feel privileged to have had them while waiting with great anticipation for the time when both are settled in their own homes, with their own professions and, I hope, are happy. Then I'll consider my job to be done and can enjoy them for who they are without that constant nagging sense of responsibility. Selfish - yeah, so what?
So them's the words.
In other news one of my 2 bosses has swine flu. Get well soon, Boss 2, but PLEASE don't hurry back.
I tagged
yakalskovich and got: Religion: this is a knotty one for me because I am NOT religious. I think that organised religions are the bane of mankind - as if humans don't find enough to fight over without nitpicking at dogma. However I do believe in The Great Good - the guiding principle of which is 'do unto others as you would prefer them to do unto you, as long as you've asked first and they've said 'yeah, cool'.' Which means that pretty much anything goes as long as all parties involved have not only agreed but have given an INFORMED consent. I also believe that what I will call God for lack of any other readily understandable term, has a very light hand upon us and ninety-nine point nine nine nine etc times out any hundred, miracles occur through the actions of other human beings. Like the joke about the man standing in his flooding house. A fireman came by in a Landrover and said, "hop in" but the man said, "Go rescue someone who needs it. I am a believer and God will rescue me". He gave the same reply to the policeman in the boat who spotted him leaning out of the upstairs window and again to the helicopter pilot who extended a hand to where he was clinging to the roof. But eventually he drowned and at the Pearly Gates he said to Peter "Why did God forsake me?" And Peter said, "Well, we sent a Landrover, a boat and a helicopter..." And if, as many religions do, we believe that God is all knowing and all powerful I reckon he might well show a million different faces to mankind so everyone gets the kind of religion that suits their needs and mindset best and it's a bit pointless squabbling over whose is best. Also, that moment when you see/hear/feel something and your breath goes back and you think 'I want to remember this FOREVER' - that moment has God smiling and blushing and saying "yeah, good innit?" You don't have to use words written by old dead white guys to give praise.
/heresy
The Great War or World War I: I've known about this all my life. ALL of it. My grandfather joined the Enniskillen Fusiliers with a gang of his mates in 1914, thinking it would be over by Christmas. He was in Palestine, Gallipoli, got wounded, convalesced on Malta and when fit was sent to the the Western Front. When I was very small my parents and I lived with him and my grandmother, and he used to tell me stories about 'what he did in the war'. I can remember him sitting on the windsor chair by my cot and watching him through the bars. We moved out when I was two and a half so lord knows how old I was then. These stories made a great impression on me. He told me about how one day the sergeant said, "One pace forward anyone who can ride a bike" and grandad took the pace and found himself transferred to the Bicycle Corps. He told me about how he once saw T E Lawrence. He told me how they dumped the bikes and how he ended up in a heavy machine gun battery, packing the guns and ammo onto mules.
Some of it might even have been true. He didn't tell me about the fighting or about why he had nightmares for the whole of the rest of his life but the night my grandmother died he told Mum. He told her about the smell of the dead. About the feel of shrapnel working further into a wound. About a firing squad to kill a sixteen year old boy who had frozen with terror and so 'displayed cowardice in the face of the enemy'.
A while ago I started writing bits of a piece of fiction about a war artist. I'd really like to work it up into a proper story but ... I dunno. I'd feel I really HAD to get every single nuance right, just the same as if writing about people from a very different ethnic background, I feel that if I can't get it 100% correct it's better not to try.
Excel sheets: I used to have a nice little system where I had excel sheets for all my records at work. I could have lots of useful information sorted in various ways, add bits, take away bits and generally do an efficient job. Now I try to do all that by hand and since my working space has changed radically I do a lot of it on my lap. Excel may be pants in comparison with some other methods of storing data but it really does beat handwriting on A3 paper into a cocked hat.
yakalskovich has her own horrible problems involving Excel, spending hours and hours going over sheets to extract data and we bitch together misetably about it, hence it being mentioned here.Cooking: I used to be a very good cook until my husband got interested in it and - well, men do things PROPERLY don't they? They buy books and fancy pieces of equipment and spend 4 days and a whole weeks housekeeping preparing one perfect meal. So I sort of lost interest and now just do the "OMG it's Wednesday, we've run out of food, what can I make with a bit of pasta, a can of corned beef and some soup?" type cooking. None of us has died yet.
Being proud of my kids: I am, sort of. Yeah. I am, now I come to think about it, even though there are times when I could scream with frustration. Mike is doing a horrible, heart-breaking job with grace and good humour and still find time and energy to advise me on, totally impractical, ways of being green. Jen is bright and funny, as well as demanding, and her first play, an unholy union of Commedia D'arte and French farce, is being performed by Gwent Young People's Theatre next weekend. Both delight me as much as they exasperate me. I feel privileged to have had them while waiting with great anticipation for the time when both are settled in their own homes, with their own professions and, I hope, are happy. Then I'll consider my job to be done and can enjoy them for who they are without that constant nagging sense of responsibility. Selfish - yeah, so what?
So them's the words.
In other news one of my 2 bosses has swine flu. Get well soon, Boss 2, but PLEASE don't hurry back.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 06:28 pm (UTC)The story about your grandfather and his stories is fascinating. :) And good luck with the swine flu boss - I hope nobody else catches the flu!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 08:16 pm (UTC)Erm, do I get this right, Jen has written a play that is being performed? For an audience beyond her school??
Wow!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 08:32 pm (UTC)She wrote it ALL and apparently the kids squabbled over the parts. I have all my fingers crossed that it goes down well.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 08:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 09:50 pm (UTC)Your words, my dear, are:
Khan of the Bear Horde
Fox
Adlerfibeln
Writing fantasy
Pencil drawing
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-17 11:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 04:38 am (UTC)Words! Please?:D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 12:45 pm (UTC)Here are your words:
Hunt the rat.
Kipling
Irish music vs Scottish music - discuss
Writing prospects
Dog and cats and ferrets
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-18 01:07 pm (UTC)Words - hmmmm.
How about:
Inner-gay-boy bargains - do you find them often?
LA with Megan
Tortured heroes
Your plot brain
and finally because it's important - Absolut!Quinto.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-19 05:10 pm (UTC)And Jen? Seriously impressed.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-21 06:57 am (UTC)Yes, my grandad used to tell me the silly little things but kept all the horror to himself. He used to shout at night and wake up panting and sweating, but a lot of men of his generation did. I don't remember anyone thinking it was remarkable.
We've still got his bayonet and use it to chop kindling.
I have my fingers crossed for Jen's little play - it's only 20 minutes but I've heard it's fun.