red nose day! it’s a thing!
On the left is my current Facebook profile pic. (That’s important.) On the right is this year’s Red Nose Day David Tennant pic.
Let’s talk, shall we?
I’ve mentioned before (In a few places) that the opening credits of “Sherlock” make me a bit homesick. I can’t explain why, except for the fact that London always calls to me. It doesn’t matter how many times I want to go somewhere else, I wind up in London. It’s like home to me in many of the same ways that Boston is.
Suddenly the joke that I’m moving to London to open a platypus farm has not become a joke. (Well, the platypus farm is questionable, but the move is apparently going to happen.) This year’s theme seems to be that anything I put out into the universe is going to come back to me in spades. It’s kind of scary actually.
The one person I would have expected to talk me out of it is FOR it. Yeah. Instead of telling me how fucking insane that idea is, he’s all in.
What. The. Everloving. Fuck. Is. Going. On. Here.
Oh, yeah. We’re planning to move. TO LONDON.
I don’t have a time frame other than there’s some stuff I need to do in the States before this can become real, but that seems to be the path my life is taking.
I’m both excited, and scared shitless, but I’m going along for the ride.
It’s meant to be. Especially when weird ass coincidences like this one show up on Facebook:
M: L went to London on business Wednesday and brought noses home for all the kids… Love Red Nose Day!
M: Here he is with one of this year’s noses (there are three different dinosaur-themed ones this year - he is wearing T-Spex)
Me: That’s beautiful!
Me: Wait. Red Nose Day is a thing? I LOVE the UK!!
M: Oh yeah it is!!! It is Comic Relief - “Do Something Funny For Money” - March 15th is THE day this year, but there are also all sorts of events leading up to it. In the even years they do Sports Relief, where all the celebs do crazy physical challenges (David Walliams swimming the Thames or Eddie Izzard running 43 marathons in 52 days). But Red Nose/Comic Relief is in the odd years - one of my FAVORITE nights of television since moving to Europe!!! Here is the link to the trailer:
M: I think I like it even better though that you didn’t know it was a thing, and just liked having a picture of ten with a clown nose. And happened to put it up at exactly the right time of year…
Me: See? I am MEANT to move overseas!!! It’s a sign from a very cute Time Lord!!
Then, there was a conversation on FB about this becoming real, and Mark said how he and Wendy take an organic view of things - fling something out there and see if it sticks. (It worked in their case - they met online, got married, and now she’s in the UK with him.)
It should be no surprise to anyone that my new thing is *FLINGS STUFF*, because the more I put out into the universe, the more it’s going to come back to me. I’m going to be flinging stuff like a madwoman. Something will stick and we’ll be packing up our lives in the States. Eventually.
In other news, I’m going to Connecticon this summer with a girl I met through GISHWHES. I’m going to cosplay! I have no idea as to what Connecticon actually is, or who I’m going to dress up as, but hey! I’m only going to live once and well… FRIENDS is one of this year’s three words. After the way Team Fancypants bonded, K is definitely a friend.
Make new friends and toss the old… well, some of them. Others are worth keeping around.
lifted from The british teapot… used without permission… link to original above
John Watson had come into the library for a quiet afternoon of study. Third year of schooling, nearly done, he knew exactly how he liked to study— in a quiet room with no distractions, his nose in the book and away from all of his friends and teammates. He’s a sporty one, you know.
He even had his own spot, right near a window by the back closet, where the smell of old books lingered and people were rarely ever there. This time, however, John spotted a young man sitting at his table. Polite as ever, he only smiled and took seat beside him.
Unlike John, this young man wasnt polite at all. Sherlock Holmes had almost dismissed John until the male sat at his side. He immediately set about looking him over— short hair, so he must play sports. A hooded shirt, so he enjoys his comfort and probably has nothing to do for quite a while. A nice stack of books, so he’s in several classes and has a lot to study for— but no notebook and no pen, so he isn’t taking notes. He’s only reading. Sherlock smirks to himself and scoots his chair further away from John, garnering no attention.
So he scoots further once more. He’ll need the leg room.
“Sorry, am I in your way?” John asks as he lifts his head to the younger male across from him.
“Not at all.”
Sherlock waits until John returns his gaze to the text in his book — it’s time to strike.
In one swift move he swings his legs up onto the table and sets the heels of his feet on John’s books. “Sorry, am I in your way?” he taunts.
John merely grunts, but decides to ignore the invasive feet in his way. The long, crossed legs of Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t distract him. “Not at all,” John retorts as he reads whatever text he can. When he’s run out of words to read, he rests his cheek on his hand and closes his eyes.
Sherlock pauses, curious as to why his legs weren’t shoved away or why John hadn’t yet moved. His antics were tolerated, and to him, it was a surprise.
“You could have pushed my feet, you know.”
Five minutes pass and neither boy had made a move. Sherlock reaches across the table, snatches one of John’s books and opens it at the half-way mark, placing it on his face. He props it high enough so that he can peek down at John if he should decide to. He folds his hands in his lap and waits. They both wait. They’re waiting for the other to make a move and break this silent contest they have going on.
A silent friendship forms. The two sit like this for hours, at times glancing to one another and catching a look or a smile from the young man sitting opposite, but it’s nice. It’s warm and comforting and unlike any bond they’d ever formed. They have a connection, all at once, and it’s suddenly become a lingering joy.
The day ends with an exchange of names and an unspoken promise. Every Saturday at noon, for the rest of the school year, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes would meet at the back of the library to study.
And more often than not, it would end with a book on Sherlock’s head and feet on John’s book. One of these days, John will have enough of it and tip the curly-haired boy out of his chair, but that time has yet to come.
a little bit of dick always cheers me up. what?
awesome thing is, the two of them are ALWAYS like this.
I need to go to another spncon. Like yesterday.
I will spare you from my ridiculous David Tennant / Tenth Doctor obsession to bring you this factoid:
I love the kids in Black Mountain Symphony so much it’s scary. I don’t know why, but they always seem to give me what I need before I even know I need it.
There’s a lot of ugly going on right now… and I don’t know how to stop it. There’s no one else I can communicate my concerns to and it’s wearing on me. A lot. Too much. I didn’t realize that I was that so out of sorts until a really stupid Facebook comment brought tears to my eyes. I totally had no clue that I needed a kind word to set my world right…
I know… for some one who is so hyper-aware of her moods, I can be awfully daft sometimes.
Even though it’s going to be nearly impossible to fit this into my schedule, I’m headed to Woodstock on Saturday to get my fix.
A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, you know?
me at stonehenge :: salisbury plain, uk :: september 4, 2008
For whatever reason, I seem to go to London when my life is in some sort of turmoil. When I went in high school, it was after my mother died. When I went in 2002, it my first birthday without my dad and the 10th without my mother. This year, well, there’s some behind-the-scenes stuff going on.
I’ve tried to stay away from the real world all week - but it hasn’t been easy because I’m still in school, doing an online class. I’ve spent this week lost in London, being a happy tourist and forgetting I’m supposed to be worrying about things at home. It’s been healing. I don’t know why, but London “fixes” me when I’m broken. It’s probably got something to do with the fact that I’m far away and completely lost in what I’m doing. Staring down the Royal horsies at the Royal Mews. Quacking at people while on a Duck Boat (just as much fun as the ones in Boston, in case you’re curious). Getting a wicked bad case of vertigo on the London Eye. Falling in love with the show “Mock the Week”.
Going in the circle, and touching the stones (!!!!), at Stonehenge.
Here’s the part of the programme (HA!) where ya’ll think I’ve lost my mind. Or I confirm that fact for you. Whatever.
Ever since I gave up on the idea that there is a Christian God, I’ve been interested in other religions. For whatever reason, I was drawn to the pagans. Stonehenge, of course, is a spiritual center of sorts. You can google it all you want to get the history, but I can tell you, there is some sort of magick going on over there. I felt it in high school, I felt it in 2002 and this year, it rocked my world.
We spent a fortune on a tour SPECIFICALLY because we could go into the circle. At sunset.
We got to play with dowsing rods* and prove that there is some sort of power there, in that circle. I can tell you, there is something going on there. It’s not quite that the rocks hum or vibrate or anything really perceptible, but there is something going on. I can feel it, but I’ve always been tapped into that “other realm”. (A story for another time. Maybe Halloween.) Standing within the stones, touching them, walking among them was such an experience and I’m glad that we were able to have that opportunity. It put a lot of stuff into perspective. Stuff that had been carried forward for years… stuff that was better off being left firmly in my past. When we boarded the bus to leave, I felt such incredible closure.
It’s almost as if whatever power lives there knew what I needed and gave it to me.
And I can’t thank it enough.
*Dowsing rods are debunked more than they’re proven to work. David Allen has proven, to me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if you think of something like spinning a paper clip that’s hanging on a string, you can make it happen without moving your hand. So, I know some of it is me. The rest… well, if you’ve ever had a planchette fly across an ouija board and crash into a wall when YOUR hands are the only ones on it, you’ll probably understand where I’m coming from.