A four-point review of 2006.

I'm only going to do a very weenyish personal review of the year thing here. I'm not going to do the one they do in the Observer where I assess my impact on every natural disaster and political fluctuation here and abroad, because there is none, and I'm not going to do their impact on me because that's just not why they happened. WHAT IT TAKES TO ADMIT THIS. And I'm not going to list the fic I wrote because I can't remember.

But there were four particularly great things I did this year:

- attended a recording of 'Have I Got News For You' in London, meeting about 5 billion wonderful people in the process (then I went to Silverstone and saw Schumacher for the last time and had some really nice ice cream, but this must be considered a side-trip for the purpose of this post);
- went to Connotations in Newcastle, meeting many of those people again and more;
- went to Southport to see two recordings of 'I'm Sorry, I Haven't A Clue' with Claire;
- was summoned to London by Cee who had come into possession of two tickets to a Paul Simon gig. FUNCTIONING tickets.

ETA. Also, and how could I forget till the BBC reminded me... I won the World Cup. Really. I did.

There's a common theme. MY SLIGHTLY AMAZING FLIST. What I want to say is enormous thanks yous to you peoples for being great, 'specially the ones I met this year (and the others are lovely too and MUSTN'T CRY because of that particularly cruel 'specially). And who gave me really great tickets. I love you for your tickets. Actually even without the tickets. But, you know. There's a thing about gruff gratitude on my kinks list, so I have to say it like this. And really there was much more than the above. I learned precisely what sort of a balloon fetishist Liz is for starters, and a day during the course of which you learn a thing like that can not in any sense be considered a day wasted.

Basically I met a lot of fantastic people this year and it wouldn't have been one-third of the year it was without all that.

(Nigel Slater in today's OM: 'Why not dip the brazil nuts in some dark chocolate?' Precisely. Why not? If Nigel Slater was John Briffa, he'd be explaining precisely why not, which is why I love Nigel Slater and frown at John Briffa.)

A four-point review of 2006.

I'm only going to do a very weenyish personal review of the year thing here. I'm not going to do the one they do in the Observer where I assess my impact on every natural disaster and political fluctuation here and abroad, because there is none, and I'm not going to do their impact on me because that's just not why they happened. WHAT IT TAKES TO ADMIT THIS. And I'm not going to list the fic I wrote because I can't remember.

But there were four particularly great things I did this year:

- attended a recording of 'Have I Got News For You' in London, meeting about 5 billion wonderful people in the process (then I went to Silverstone and saw Schumacher for the last time and had some really nice ice cream, but this must be considered a side-trip for the purpose of this post);
- went to Connotations in Newcastle, meeting many of those people again and more;
- went to Southport to see two recordings of 'I'm Sorry, I Haven't A Clue' with Claire;
- was summoned to London by Cee who had come into possession of two tickets to a Paul Simon gig. FUNCTIONING tickets.

ETA. Also, and how could I forget till the BBC reminded me... I won the World Cup. Really. I did.

There's a common theme. MY SLIGHTLY AMAZING FLIST. What I want to say is enormous thanks yous to you peoples for being great, 'specially the ones I met this year (and the others are lovely too and MUSTN'T CRY because of that particularly cruel 'specially). And who gave me really great tickets. I love you for your tickets. Actually even without the tickets. But, you know. There's a thing about gruff gratitude on my kinks list, so I have to say it like this. And really there was much more than the above. I learned precisely what sort of a balloon fetishist Liz is for starters, and a day during the course of which you learn a thing like that can not in any sense be considered a day wasted.

Basically I met a lot of fantastic people this year and it wouldn't have been one-third of the year it was without all that.

(Nigel Slater in today's OM: 'Why not dip the brazil nuts in some dark chocolate?' Precisely. Why not? If Nigel Slater was John Briffa, he'd be explaining precisely why not, which is why I love Nigel Slater and frown at John Briffa.)

Fic: PotC/Simon & Garfunkel. Hearts and Crossbones.

The remit was Simon/Garfunkel/Sparrow/Norrington - a desert island, both parties believing they're in the correct time line, Jack's borrowing Paul's guitar, Art and Norrington empathising about their high-maintenance partners and a campfire. Nothing was said about sense or quality. Hurrah.

I have no idea what to call it. I sort of want to call it 'Hearts and Bones', but probably I very much shouldn't. Suggestions more than welcome. Also, astonishingly, at just over 3,500 words, this turns out to be one of the longest fics I've ever written.

For Cee.

(ETA. Cee decided it should be called 'Hearts and Crossbones'. I heartily concur.)

( Read more... )

Fic: PotC/Simon & Garfunkel. Hearts and Crossbones.

The remit was Simon/Garfunkel/Sparrow/Norrington - a desert island, both parties believing they're in the correct time line, Jack's borrowing Paul's guitar, Art and Norrington empathising about their high-maintenance partners and a campfire. Nothing was said about sense or quality. Hurrah.

I have no idea what to call it. I sort of want to call it 'Hearts and Bones', but probably I very much shouldn't. Suggestions more than welcome. Also, astonishingly, at just over 3,500 words, this turns out to be one of the longest fics I've ever written.

For Cee.

(ETA. Cee decided it should be called 'Hearts and Crossbones'. I heartily concur.)

( Read more... )

I think you all went out.

I hope you didn't get wet. I'm waiting for midnight to be over mostly so that the fireworks don't wake me. I don't suppose Angus is on telly these days. He always used to be on New Year's Eve. Actually I'm watching QI. I'M VERY TIRED. I'm not sure what I think about its being 2007, not that it is quite yet, but in nine minutes or so. Ten years since 1997 couldn't be much wronger. Though I like there being a seven in the year. So there's not much in it. I have to get off the computer now because apparently it's fairly terrible to be on the internet at ten to midnight on New Year's Eve. I am bowing to the pressures of society. Less of that.

Happy new year, essentially, is what I meant.

I think you all went out.

I hope you didn't get wet. I'm waiting for midnight to be over mostly so that the fireworks don't wake me. I don't suppose Angus is on telly these days. He always used to be on New Year's Eve. Actually I'm watching QI. I'M VERY TIRED. I'm not sure what I think about its being 2007, not that it is quite yet, but in nine minutes or so. Ten years since 1997 couldn't be much wronger. Though I like there being a seven in the year. So there's not much in it. I have to get off the computer now because apparently it's fairly terrible to be on the internet at ten to midnight on New Year's Eve. I am bowing to the pressures of society. Less of that.

Happy new year, essentially, is what I meant.