Never Again Will I Bitch About the Rain… Or Take My Taps for Granted.

I’m supposed to be catching up on the Everest-sized mountain of work I missed when I was off last week (I suffer from Pansy Insides Syndrome, so when I get colds and swallow phlegm my stomach tries to turn itself inside out. It fails and I end up on medication). My plans to become a model student have been somewhat stunted by the weather. I am of the firm belief that after 28°C one should do nothing but sit in the garden. Today it’s 30° and since I have to work, I stuck on an outfit that resembles that of a thirty-something tennis player and raided the kitchen… To be told that the water’s been turned off because Dad’s building the bathroom.

All of it. There is none left in the house, because I went on autopilot and flushed the loo (not that I’m that desperate, but I tried to wash my hands then remembered the taps are useless).  Wait, I lie. There is water – I nearly slipped in some drips from the ceiling earlier.

So, since I can’t concentrate, I read the dodgy part of Heaven Help Us and engaged in a discussion about fairy lights on the MCRmy post.

When you can sit through a fictional story about an ex-priest and a short dude getting it on, both based on guys from MCR – with an MCR poster peering accusingly over your shoulder -you know you’re dehydrated. Which made me think… How do people in drought-prone regions manage? I’m being serious. The country has stopped – I think Ellen and Ross’s school went to the beach today. That’s cool, but they had sun cream and hats and money for drinks.  While the UK is pissing about a hose pipe ban that lasts a fortnight, there are entire countries that never have enough water, and what they do have is contaminated with cholera or is a malaria breeding ground.

  Since the Earth is two-thirds water, I don’t see how that’s fair. Sadly (and despite all rumours) I’m not an all-powerful being, so I can’t snap my fingers and tip half the Atlantic into the Sahel. Instead I’ve changed the Social Vibe widget on the sidebar from To Write Love On Her Arms to Charity:Water. I’m pretty sure most of you don’t notice it anymore, but Social Vibe is an organisation that partners various charities. When people click on the widget and complete mini-surveys and quizzes for the sponsors of the charities, the sponsor makes a ‘micro-donation’ to the charity.  When one person completes something, not a whole lot happens to save the whales or cure cancer… But if a whole lot of people do, stuff starts to happen. Since it started, Charity:Water has raised $68,301 using Social Vibe. Apparently that’s eighty-eight percent of its goal progress.

If you lot don’t help it get up to ninety per cent, I’ll yell at you all. It turns out I’m good at that. So get going.

I Am Productive and Shall Prove It: Part 2

On with the show.

Francesca’s Best Artwork on Photoshop*

  Inspired by this:

*Actually, the only thing I’ve made on Photoshop this holiday.

New Experience I Should Have Tried Ages Ago: #MCRChat

Invented by Cassie Whitt, and completely crazy.

Best Amateur Video/Community Effort: Newcastle MCRmy

Anyone in Essex fancy going doing a Killjoy meetup this year?!

Most Expensive Consumer Product and Its Effect on the Consumer: Fudge Paintbox Blue Velvet Hair Dye

  75ml cost something like £9.16 (I threw away the receipt once I used it, in disgust). When Mum and I redid my stripe, we left the dye in a bit long because I sat in the garden reading Russel Brand’s first autobiography with no timer and lost track of time. Because of the foils and amount of dye used, I got an electric blue bit near my scalp and turquoise at the tips. There’s also blonde from the bleach and my normal brown up top, so I had a four-tone streak of hair! This probably doesn’t excite you as much as it does me, and the sun’s since faded the whole lot lighter so there’s no evidence, but for a few days I was living my version of the eighties.

Most Guilty Pleasure-y Bedtime Reading: the Unholy Series, by Bexless

As a person, I cannot condone writing about real people as characters, especially if you’ve never met them. As writer, I say hell yeah to anything that expands your knowledge and skills in the field. I’m really sorry, guys, but this series is the best piece of fiction I’ve read in months. Possibly the best fan fiction I’ve ever come across. If I didn’t know it was based on the members of My Chemical Romance, I wouldn’t have realised reading it, which is how some fan fics work best – the story tells itself. Maximise the screen to reduce eyestrain, the text is tiny, and if you’re homophobic or Catholic-phobic (there’s probably a long word for that somewhere), avoid at all costs.

Shameless plug on end of blog: if you want to read my Heaven Help Us, click here. And review.

Want to Be a Rockstar? Wear Your Sunglasses In the Toilet Cubicle.

I’m currently on MSN with Isobel, and she told me I have no email because I’m simply not cool, because I don’t wear Primark Ray Bans into toilets, like she does (this makes her a rockstar).

I was going to reply, “I am a rockstar, I’m watching the TV with the sound turned down!” But then I looked at the screen, realised Planetary was playing and turned it up. Then, as I was telling Isobel this, it ended. So I rewound.

Here are Indifferent Ignorance’s resident rockstars, Bel and Frank:

  As the photo uploaded I rewound Planetary. This is fun.

  That’s the third time… Or fourth.

  I feel slightly weird about the whole thing when I was up until half one last night reading the sequels to Unholy.