Mid-assignment, I just wanted to wish you a very Happy New Year. We saw the new year in by watching films we'd got as Christmas presents. One of mine was Looper, which was my sort of thing, but will have to be watched for a second time (minus alcohol), as there were a few 'I'm-not-quite-sure-I-got-that' moments (to which I didn't want to admit, in case I got sighs and rolls-of-eyes because it was obvious to everyone else). My hearing has been kind of fixed, so I didn't have to use the subtitles I relied on a couple of weeks ago. They took a while to get the hang of, what with italics for someone out of shot, and all that. I was also glad I'm a quick reader, because all the bits in brackets (music in the background; a door slams etc) plus speech, took some speedy reading. Anyway, the hearing is making everything sound very loud and harsh (must get a quieter keyboard), but at least I can join in with things again.
As I said, I'm halfway through an assignment. We had to choose out of two journal articles to read, and relate it to what we'd learnt from the second course book. So I've been reading about the banning of a play called Behzti (which I keep spelling wrong. The spellchecker's no help - it just asked me if I meant 'Betty'?) and am writing about how it relates to multiculturalism, identity, authority and the media. Not the most exciting of essays, although that may just be mine. Apologies, Mr Tutor.
Because of the assignment, I am behind with everything else. Actually, that's a lie. Because of reading the entire series of Harry Potter books in an attempt to put off writing the assignment, the Christmas tree is still up and I have not been food-shopping for ages. The cats may have to have spaghetti hoops for dinner, and I think we'll have to choose from the dregs of Christmas biscuits and chocolate for ours. Never mind. There is still beer.
So, what did I get for Christmas, apart from fatter? Books, obviously. Nail polish, which may prod me into stopping picking my fingers and make me at least try to look vaguely feminine... or not. Chocolate, always good. Boots, extra good. Wine, of course (I always think it sounds bad when you say your children got you alcohol for Christmas, but it probably makes their lives easier, too).
Family-wise, The Daughter and her boyfriend were up from Cornwall, which was brilliant. Sorry about the broken foot, Tim. There's a story for another day. My Dad is three weeks into his radiotherapy treatment for prostate cancer, and finding it exhausting, but refused to let it spoil his Christmas. Kudos to you, Dad. Hang in there.
And that's it, so far. I must now go and rummage in the freezer, and make tea for the family. Chips and raspberry sorbet, anyone?
As I said, I'm halfway through an assignment. We had to choose out of two journal articles to read, and relate it to what we'd learnt from the second course book. So I've been reading about the banning of a play called Behzti (which I keep spelling wrong. The spellchecker's no help - it just asked me if I meant 'Betty'?) and am writing about how it relates to multiculturalism, identity, authority and the media. Not the most exciting of essays, although that may just be mine. Apologies, Mr Tutor.
Because of the assignment, I am behind with everything else. Actually, that's a lie. Because of reading the entire series of Harry Potter books in an attempt to put off writing the assignment, the Christmas tree is still up and I have not been food-shopping for ages. The cats may have to have spaghetti hoops for dinner, and I think we'll have to choose from the dregs of Christmas biscuits and chocolate for ours. Never mind. There is still beer.
So, what did I get for Christmas, apart from fatter? Books, obviously. Nail polish, which may prod me into stopping picking my fingers and make me at least try to look vaguely feminine... or not. Chocolate, always good. Boots, extra good. Wine, of course (I always think it sounds bad when you say your children got you alcohol for Christmas, but it probably makes their lives easier, too).
Family-wise, The Daughter and her boyfriend were up from Cornwall, which was brilliant. Sorry about the broken foot, Tim. There's a story for another day. My Dad is three weeks into his radiotherapy treatment for prostate cancer, and finding it exhausting, but refused to let it spoil his Christmas. Kudos to you, Dad. Hang in there.
And that's it, so far. I must now go and rummage in the freezer, and make tea for the family. Chips and raspberry sorbet, anyone?
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