That's When I Get My Reward

When I have finished my thesis I am going to:

- take some time off
- visit my family
- start knitting the Shipwreck shawl [rav link]
- start a hot rhythm and blues band
- not have any professional interest in glass for a while at least
- get a sewing machine and, ahem, level up my tailoring
- get a copy of Wrath of the Lich King and take my paladin to Northrend.
- costume and choreograph at least one out of my list of ideas for burlesque routines (this list includes acts such as: 2001, Showgirl Mirages, a Maria Callas tribute and a routine about a fantasy game addict)
- read some sodding books because at the minute I appear not to be doing that
- crochet some very complicated doilies
- build a tiny steam engine and get involved in maker stuff
- cook more interesting stuff
- start a new dance class
- get a bike and ride it to work
- blog more and twitter less
- see what's kicking in the Kingdom of Loathing
- not have this overriding feeling of guilt when i'm not doing directly work-related things

But I think the first thing I will want to do is go and have an icecream.

I Must Share This Ludicrous, Insane Idea

Hello blogland, remember me? Just decloaking to share with you an idea that I cannot possibly bring to pass - although it would be awesome if I could.

Here it is: 2001: A Burlesque Odyssey

Seriously. This idea has been stewing for a while and I've decided it's pretty much the stupidest, funniest thing. It requires a whole troupe of dancers, though, so I can't quite stage the thing. Yet.

Phase 1: Evolution
The house lights go down. The stage is in total darkness, and silence reigns. Slowly, the stage lights come up, revealing a troupe of lovely burley girlies clad in monkey costumes, frozen in attitudes suggesting an evolutionary cul-de-sac. The silence is imperceptibly broken by the first note of Also Sprach Zarathustra and the dancers begin to move into position. daaa......

The lead dancer moves centre stage, still in a simian crouch, towards the big black (probably papier mache, alas) monolith standing back centre stage. Daaaa... The troupe reach out their arms towards the lead dancer Daaaaaa...

DA-DAH! Our apes stretch out in dramatic poses, creating an avenue for the lead dancer to approach the monolith, arm outstretched to touch it.

(dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum) The dancers stomp in time with the timpani.

daaa....Daaa......Daaaaaa The whole troupe writhes in a very modern-dancey-fied way as the lead dancer edges closer and closer to the monolith until...

DA-DAH! She touches it, falls to her knees and the troupe fall into lunge positions, shimmying their hands. More timpani stomping.

And as the music reaches a beautiful crescendo, the ape-ladies assume expansive poses that suggest that they've just received the spark of inspiration, the lead dancer turns, rises and runs front and centre. They leap, twirl and pose and on the final chord, they rip open their monkey suits to reveal...

Phase 2: Space Hostesses
Silver hologrammatic lamé mini-dresses and moonboots! Yes! These simians have just become the kind of girls you saw in the space disco when you watched Buck Rogers as a child! The music changes to a superb funk version of Also Sprach... (one with lots of brass that I've heard Nimoloth's band play) and the troupe perform a very cute routine that invokes the motions of zero-g air hostesses on the flight from the Earth to the Moon. They may also peel the dresses to reveal more space-undies. By now, things are getting pretty kitsch and people are either laughing, or they never saw 2001 and are wondering what the hell is going on. Anyway, the troupe are now in space-undies and we're about to enter the most WTF stage of the act.

Phase 3: Oh my god, it's full of stars!
Here we're going to get a little weird. We're going to forget about all that business in the spaceship with that bloody computer and skip straight to the trippy end section of the film.

The way I intend to do it is to take down the stage lights and bring up a blacklight. The troupe peel their bras and their reveals reveal a crazy assortment of dayglo pasties and tassles. Some of them bring out boas and scarves in equally fluro tones. Then the dancers create psychedelic hell by tassle-twirling, boa wiggling and scarf manipulating to the authentically fucked up music from the film and the people who haven't seen the film will probably leave or be sick. The people who have seen it are either enchanted and beguiled or are giggling their chins off.

For a grand finale, we're clearly going to have to bring in the giant space baby, which is painted on the back of the monolith. At the end of phase three, while the lights are still down, the monolith is rotated and the space baby is revealed when the stage lights come up and our troupe of valiant and crazy dancers assume final positions around the space-baby-monolith. In their pants. Ta-da!




....and with that, I re-abandon the blog for a couple of months.

Shoe Time

It's taken me until the 22nd to write a blog post in April. Clearly I am working really hard writing thesis and doing all those things I do when I'm working really hard on not writing thesis.

But I have come to ask the internet about shoes. I want shoes for work and I'm struggling to find what I'm after.
- I work in a lab, so I need something that actually covers the foot.
- I walk a lot, so I need something that has a decent thick sole (think Converse rather than ballet pumps)
- I hate buckles, tassles, brogue-style detailing and frumpy square toes.
- I want something that won't look middle-aged with jeans or ridiculous with regular trousers.
- I like the idea of shoeboots, but not the combination of a vertiginous heel with a thin, non-grippy sole.
- I'm also not keen on loafers.

In short, I'm tired of wearing these plimsoll things that soak up the rain. Boo.

Staring Into Space

I'm at the stage of my phd where I should be writing, on average, a page a day. I'll let you decide how I'm getting on with that.

Oh! I remembered what it was that I wanted to post about the other day when I'd totally forgotten what I was going to post about. The burlesque stage name I was going to use - Moxie Divine - has turned out to be not good. It's far too similar to another Glasgow gal's stage name and also, sadly, Superdrug have started carrying a feminine hygiene range called Moxie. Not very auspicious, I think you'll agree. So the search begins again. I was toying with the idea of "Wanda, Force of Nature" because it's different in format from the "Firstname Secondname" you normally get, and I like not being normal.

In other news, I'm really enjoying Philip Glass while I work and I'm also a bit snuffly and full of cold.

And That Is That

Hurrah, after three weeks moaning, I'm getting the two things that are wrong with my flat fixed on Monday. Persistence is power. So is whinging.

I was going to post about something specific and it was going to be interesting. I have now totally forgotten what it was. Hrmm. Hrmmmmmmmm. Hrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I went to a burlesque show at the Panopticon, which was good. Was that what I was burning to tell you about? I don't think so, as the main point I had to make about that is that if I was doing any peeling at the Panopticon, I would want to be under a nice warm duvet with a hot water bottle at the time. Wearing many layers. And a hat.

I... found a clock movement in my suitcase and remembered to take it out before I set off for my flight. Not noteworthy, but definitely wise, especially considering the false bottom I am using to transport crochet hooks in. (Oh, the images! The mental images!)

Shit! I wish I knew what I was going to post about. It's bothering me a lot that my memory is totally swiss cheesed. Oh well.

Another interesting thing is that today is the closing date for a job I applied for. Will I get an interview? Will I get a polite rejection? Will I get a rude rejection with complimentary raspberry? Who knows?

Tea and Sympathy for the Devil

It turns out that by wearing some nice hearing-protection earplugs in the lab, I can enjoy the Philip Glass emanating from my laptop and not really be bothered by the loud and insistent MURRRWHHHIRRRGRRRR of the pumps, fans and general stuff in here.

Today I'm mainly having a headache and doing some employment directed writing stuff while my cryostat cools. The main procrastination activity is on the Pukka website where I am considering a major tea purchase. I like Pukka teas - the Pleasure, Relax and Clarity flavours in particular - and a major consignment of tea would be lovely.

Free Nelson's Mandalas

Isn't this a wonderful idea for fixing holes in knitwear?

I'd almost be tempted to have more lab accidents involving tearing, scorching and acid holes in clothes in order to try it out.