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Owen’s blog
Syndicated from Freakcity, this is my other journal; see also <lj user=owenblacker> for my LJ.
Odd day
Gardaí removing bags of sterling (from the Irish Independent) Very excited earlier by half a dozen brief snow flurries. Not enough to settle yet, so no snowmen (sorry NotDan), but hopefully next week, as we’re set to get weather coming in off the North Sea, which should provide us with lots of nice pretty fluffy white stuff.
A bit concerned by news at the moment. Just been reading Mo Mowlam in last week’s NS Diary: "I wish the IRA had not been so rapidly fingered for the . If the police have evidence, it should be presented in a court of law." Still, it’s looking increasingly likely that it might have been the Retirement Fund. The Taoiseach has commented on the former VP of Sinn Féin having had to resign three high-profile board positions in éire (1, 2), as he’s a non-Exec at a Cork-based FS company at the center of the money laundering probes and some bloke was just picked up by Gardaí for burning sterling notes in his garden.
More entertainingly, a load of Northern Bank notes were found at an RUC sports club yesterday (3, 4). Slightly more optimistically, there’s talk of the “Real IRA” being involved, rather than the Provos. Which is good news for Sinn Féin, at least. I really do hope that it wasn’t the Provos and that Sinn Féin really did have nothing to do with it, otherwise I think there’s a real danger that things could fall apart again in the Six Counties.
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Looong day
But, we launched WriteToThem.com, which is like FaxYourMP on steriods, letting users contact any of their elected officials, from local authorities, through national parliaments, through Westminster, to MEPs. Very proud.
Saw the osteopath first thing and I’m much better than I was. New mattress should arrive at the weekend, which should make a huge difference.
Work was complex. Bit of a crisis with one client, but I’m pretty sure we sorted out that it’s not our code that’s at fault (hopefully). Had to make a really simple edit for another client, but it took over an hour to work out what I needed to install, and then to install it (Oracle not helpful). Got that sorted, though, just in time for a crisis with another client. Bit of help from friends in the right places (Dydd San Ffolant dda, nghariad) and then a bit more thought got that sorted — something Kee was happy about too, as was the Flash developer, who wanted to get going to his Valentine’s date 
Had pizza whilst watching Smallville, after finishing reading the Identity Cards Bill Third Reading on the tube and a draft of a NO2ID document on the tube and then whilst listening to Damien Rice on my shiny new MP3 player — I finally got round to plugging it into the TV through the audio jack in the cradle.
MP3’d the new Angel soundtrack album, but didn’t get round to listening to it yet, so I’ll save it for the way in, tomorrow, whilst I try to write a resumé of the Third Reading.
Oh, and James has been practising driving à l’américain. Think Ronin: “don’t let zem smell your fear.” Stay off the roads in Paris, eh?
Anyways, bedtime…
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100 Greatest Tearjerker moments
Watching it for an hour so far before I actually started getting teary. Obviously it had to be Truly, Madly, Deeply. But it’s #24 — what on earth is it doing that low down?! And someone really needs to shoot that bloody irritating wanker trying to put links between them. Oh god, #20 is Dead Poets Society. They only needed to show the beginning of that final scene and I become greatful that I can touch type. And noone’s even said “Oh Captain, My Captain” yet. I am such a wuss.
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Nos San Ffolant
Bloo! Been doing a load of FYR stuff today. Des came over, just as England were having their arses kicked, mainly by the gorgeous French #9 Dimitri Yachvili. Still, it’s unsurprising they weren’t kicking the French arses, they could barely kick the bloody ball.
We watched Resident Evil: Apocalypse (part of my San Ffolant present to Des; he bought me a really cool blue rose!) whilst I finished proof-reading FYR, then went and fucked like bunnies whilst food cooked.
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Lots of weirdness
It’s very weird seeing Pierce Brosnan and Cait Blanchett speaking in their own accents. And quite wierd seeing Mark Hughes in the dugout for a team I’m not supporting.
Hmm. 
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Hur
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Odd day
Got all the M&S stuff done by lunchtime. Really cool feeling, knowing that I’ve just successfully extended some code that, three days ago, I’d never even seen before. And in Java too, which makes me feel much more confident in the language, even if all I did was create a new subclass of the abstract CSV-making one. Then didn’t get much NS&I stuff done after lunch. Partly because it was all very Friday afternoon. And partly because it was very entertaining watching the studio’s reaction to me queueing two dozen ’80s tracks (they bitched at T’Pau, but drew the line at the Buggles, which they replaced with some Green Day). But mainly, if I’m honest, because the Identity Cards Bill passed its Third Reading in the Commons yesterday, so I was poring over Hansard (well, TheyWorkForYou) and providing analysis. Whoever wrote David Davis’s speech deserves a fucking medal, it’s really good! More reading to do tomorrow. I can safely say, however, that the government, however, lied and misled their way through the debate. And, just to make sure, guillotined every section of the debate, so the House has just passed legislation where some parts have received absolutely no scrutiny. It’s a fucking travesty of democracy. Someone really should Impeach Blair and get rid of this hideous party whipping system that means hordes of zombie sheeple sleepwalk their way into the Division Lobbies because otherwise their careers will go down the tubes. Hmm, wonder if I can get any more metaphors in there. Very cool post to Suicide boys. The guy isn’t pticly my type, but the third photo is just such a cool image! Go see for yourself: candyperfumeboi on suicideboys. Oh, and apparently Anne Rice’s son is an even better writer than his mam. And he’s quite pretty; roughly my age too.
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Fucking idiots
Like Nancy Reagan said: Just Say No! Well, thanks to us living in a mature democracy, we now have to rely on a bunch of unelected toffs and cronies to defeat the most ineffectual, illiberal, expensive and pointless danger to our civil liberties since the 1970s, with its mainland bombing campaign from the Provos, with Diplock Courts, with the police falsifying evidence and torturing prisoners, leading to illegal and unjust gaol sentences for innocent people like the Guildford Four and Maguire Seven and all the stupidity of the “temporary provisions” of the PTA.
What is it about Labour governments being totally persuaded by every single thing MI5 tells them and forgetting that there’s no point trying to save the British way of life if you’re gonna destroy it in the attempt?
On the plus side, the vote went through its Third Reading in the Commons with 224 votes in favor and 64 votes against. Now the arithmetically gifted will already have spotted that 160-vote majority, but that’s not the important point. That’s a total of 288 votes, from a Parliamentary chamber of 659 — not even 45% bothered to show up to support the government’s flagship policy, one that Michael Howard supports wholeheartedly (yet his Shadow Home Secretary says it has failed the famous five tests; guess that’s called saving face).
And of those 64 sane MPs, 19 were Labour (presumably including my old teacher, Dr Ian Gibson, and my boyfriend’s MP, Neil Gerrard) and 11 Tories (presumably including Peter Lilley); the balance, of course, will have been all the Lib Dems and nationalists (Plaid and SNP together, dunno what the SDLP think on the subject and Sinn Féin don’t take their seats, as well as having a little more on their minds at the moment).
So off to the Lords’ we must go…
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Hur
Ebby’s blog has this great link on it: www.buggery.org/buggery.php?story=hanky-ribbon-codes — comparing hanky codes with ribbon colors. I smirked.
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LJ
Ebby has set this up to be a syndicated LJ account at www.livejournal.com/~hoyw (it’s Welsh for poof). Hurrah! In other news, Sal (vervain) has given up meat and alcohol for Lent! So I guess I sha’n’t invite him to Sunday lunch at the Spoon any time soon. I’m giving up decaff tea and coffee, as they’re bad for me as well, apparently. Only herb and fruit teas, not decaffeinated caffeine-containing ones until Pasg. Not quite as difficult as meat and booze, but good for my stomach, certainly.
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Ooh yah!
*bounce bounce* Cymru 2–0 Hwngari
/* Owen dances around the room in his Wales kit/
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Well someone’s picked it up
Eurgh, brain hurts. End of brain dump (in person, at least: there’s at least one topic that still needs to be handed over by email after Andy’s client drinks thing this evening). I now know how to do shedloads of different NS&I things and the M&S affiliates marketing XML feed. In other news, finally someone has realised that the government is desperated suppressing debate of the Identity Cards Bill. And Blair mentioned ID cards at PMQs today. I’ve finally read Winnick’s amendment (search for his name). Basically, it restricts several parts of the Identity Cards Bill (including the introduction of compulsion in clause 6) so that they can only happen during a state of emergency — and only remain in force for a year at a time. Whilst he’s one of our best parliamentary comrades, I don’think it’s all that good an amendment: [1] Part 2 of the Civil Contingencies Act 2004 isn’t very stringent. [2] Article 15(1) of the ECHR isn’t very stringent either, as we’re already in a state of emergency under 15(1), that’s what ATCSA 2001 invoked in order to suspend habeas corpus . [3] We are currently in a state of emergency (so the amendment would currently provide no restriction) and will be for the foreseeable future (as it dates from immediately after September 11, 2001). [4] We would still incur the costs of building the system, even if it were never gonna become compulsory. [5] This would still allow the worst clauses (the ones enumerated in the first part of the amendment) to be brought in by Statutory Instrument, which is fuck all safeguard. [6] Once compulsion has been introduced — even if for just a year — it’ll be impossible to roll back. If you look back to the Prevention of Terrorism (Temporary Provisions) Acts of the 1980s, they were renewed annually quite happily, despite that they were widely recognised as leading to miscarriages of justice, such as the Guildford Four. In some synchronicity, the British Government has finally apologised for the gaoling for the Guildford Four. About fucking time, I say!
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My head hurts!
Finally, at twenty past three, I get to grab something to eat. Been so busy this morning (after my late start). And I just broke my head. Was working on the M&S thing, then had to deploy an NS&I thing, then had a five-minute phone call from Phil about NO2ID stuff (apparently there’s some amendment from David Winnick that I need to read; we were astonished to realise that the vote bundle is actually available online!), then ordered my lunch in Spanish (the guys behind the counter at the local caff are all either Spanish or Portuguese and, frankly, Portuguese is just Spanish with a bad accent, so we roll with it. Now munching at a baked spud, with chicken-bacon-sweetcorn mayo. At last. Report Stage of the Identity Cards Bill in the Commons tonight. Not that it’ll matter, given that the lying, cheating government have curbed any chance of anyone doing something as scandalous as actually debating the bill. Cunts.
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Eurgh
Gorau chwarae cyd chwarael-droed.jpg Very floaty-light today. Woke up at 0930 and belted it into work. Remembered to wear my pêl-droed kit and to bring the flag, though, so I’m relatively happy.
Today is Andy’s last day before going on holiday, though, so we have to cram more knowledge into me, including a part of NS&I that we were hoping to avoid and an M&S project. Fun fun fun!
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Give the bitchy nicotine queen her damn cigarettes!
Yeah, yeah, camera phones are shit, I know. Giving up smoking is so deeply earling difficult.
Now, I guess most of my mates already know that I ain’t really giving up for the sake of my lungs or heart. Despite Dr Ian Gibson, MP,’s excellent course “Genes in Action” (BIO-3C07) when I was a student of his at UEA, the real reason I give a toss about giving up smoking is because smoking is bad for my stomach.
Now I’ve been very ill with my stomach so far this year — and becoming more reclusive because of it, too: feeling less and less comfortable with going out to places; not good when you have a new boyfriend who wants you to go to meet his friends and stuff.
I came off nicotine patches in mid-January, having finished the course. Since then, most evenings have been topped with a small spliff and I know that I’ve been trying to fool myself it was to chill and not just for the nicotine in a joint. In the last two or three weeks, my narcotic intake has increased, but little else has changed — my diet and alcohol intake aren’t pticly different from the previous few months. I mentioned all this to Scott on Monday, when we met up over lunchtime, and he suggested that might be what’s making my stomach worse.
So I decided I’d see if I could manage a week without any of that (or any nicotine) would help my stomach. I’ve lasted not quite 36 hours. I’ve been climbing the fucking walls all day; I broke (and then fixed) the fridge earlier because inanimate objects were stressing me out (obviously). Watching Shameless (fucking good ep next week, notDan) — with pretty chav boys again on Ch4 and then on E4 for next week’s — with Lip and Ian spliffing their way through both eps didn’t help either.
Realised I was too stressed to sleep, despite being shattered. So fuck it.
I just hope I can sort my bloody stomach out sometime soon. My head too. There’re two OUT events coming up I’d love to do — one in Dublin that Ebby, Alan and Rob are organising; one in Las Canarías that OUT is organising — and I dared’n’t. The only time, at James’s, when we ventured much further than Brian’s house was when we had a fab night out in Limoges, where I ended up curled up in a ball in the cubicle, in Limoges’s only^W hippest gay nightspot, trying to calm myself down from a panic attack.
I’ve managed to call the osteopath this year, maybe I should call the hypnotherapist as well.
On the plus side, both Scott and Rob are being really helpful with stomach stuff at the moment, so I’ve got good moral support, which really helps.
San Ffolant* coming up. Not sure what to get Des and a bit worried that he’s gonna wanna do something big and romantic (clichéd or otherwise) and then get upset if I don’t say “I love you” at him. He’s an absolute sweetheart, but I’ve only known him just over a month; I can’t fall in love with someone that quickly. In lust, sure, and I definitely lust after him, but not love. I’ve known love, with Scott, I know what I feel now isn’t what I felt — feel — for him. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be. But how does one say that to someone who’s besotted with you and just wants to hear three little words?
Work’s goin
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Anniversary
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Aww! :o) Yesterday was Des’s and my one-month anniversary. Now, obviously, I completely forgot about this (remembering instead that we met on Boxing Day and not making any effort to buy him something only a week before San Ffolant), but Des remembered and bought me a really sweet little teddy bear thingie.
In other news, Deev and I chatted on the phone whilst watching about 50-odd of the Top 100 Greatest Music Videos. Total VH1 “let’s interview a few people, string it together and call it eight hours long” pap, but very good fun. And the bloke inside the dancing mailbox in Björk’s “It’s oh so quiet” video is Ernie out of Sesame Street !
Right, off to work!
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Lookit what I made! Saturday night was great fun, though, with a strip poker party. Amongst the guests were Russ and Gareth, who were both particularly pretty naked, though I’m still somewhat disappointed that I didn’t get to acquaint myself with the former rather better than I did. Had a very good evening, though.
Today, chilled out lots. Watched some /Blake’s 7/, and saw Liza Minelli looking very young in “Gambit” (the same episode where Travis describes some bloke as a powder poof, failing to notice that he’s himself escaped from the Village People). TV later…
Anyways, maybe eating something will make me feel better.
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Mixed weekend
Deev’s not lost his Mojo! Been feeling very crappy almost constantly since Wednesday night — been off work Thursday and Friday — but had a relatively fun weekend nonetheless. Chatted with Deev on Friday night, he showed me a photo of Mojo (and trying to download it to upload it with the index obscured causes Firefox to crash again, with 100Mb of memory; it really is such a pile of shite browser).
Sports went well, as Norwich City won 3–2 and Wales beat England 11–9.
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Eurgh
Crappy day. Woke up feeling very stomachey and sick. Tried to get to the office, but felt increasingly shit, so came home and slept lots.
On the plus side, NotDan gave me a massage earlier and a small spliff has made me care about my stomach less
Chatting with Des (Owensboy) on MSN; ’s good to see him. There’s been some issue with their flatwarming this weekend, so he will be here for my poker party. Yay!
Now, Question Time is about to start on BBC1, so off to watch them talk about ID cards, I hope.
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Actual work?!
Long day. Rather than being sat reading accessibility stuff all day and trying to resist the urge to succumb to my wikiholism, I’ve got some work to do for a client of ours, using a hacked-up version of another CMS (hacked-up to make it work how we want it to) and involving working yn yr iaith. Which should be fun. Also today, the Parliamentary Joint Committee on Human Rights have released a report about the Identity Cards Bill, which slates it massively (oddly enough). So I spent all of my lunch break helping write a press release and now have to go finish reading the report properly, on the way to Jordan’s birthday drinks at Retro.
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Night everyone!
/Shameless/ is very funny. Even more so when stoned. Good NO2ID meeting earlier. And we’ve printed a deeply cool Guide to Campaigning.
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Surreal email of the day award goes to
/From: [Name deleted]/ To: All Staff Subject: Heat magazine Hello all I left my eagerly anticipated and brand new copy of Heat Magazine somewhere in the office today. If anyone sees it, please could they return it? thanks This was followed, two minutes later, by: From: [Name deleted] To: All Staff Subject: Re: Heat magazine /Don’t panic. Cat had it all along./
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Bad Owen, no biscuit
Dim ysmygu! Not doing too well at this giving up smoking business. Really needed a fag a moment ago, so eventually just caved and went for some fresh air with Kee, partly because I’ve been feeling quite sick most of today and the Nicorette inhalator thingie tends to make me feel more, not less, sick. But having a little spliff most evenings really is just fooling myself.
Hmm, I dunno.
In other news, chatted with Dad on the phone last night, which was good; couldn’t get through to Mam though. And Danny (mage) seems to be having a bit of a crisis and has broken up with Richard. I hope they get back together again; Richard is the best thing that’s happened to Danny in a long time; I don’t like seeing Danny being down.
NO2ID Campaigning meeting this evening, so I get to see the new office at last. Lots to do.
Anyways, back to accessibility stuff again…
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Gah!
Well, he is so very pretty Once every few months, someone just has to prove me wrong.
Scott Hope (Fab Filippo’s character in BtVS ) isn’t the one who wanted to become a vampire because he was dying of cancer — that was Jason Behr. Scott Hope was the one that Buffy started going out with in s3, before Angel was thrown back from the heavens by TPTB.
She should’ve stuck with Scott Hope; he’s so much prettier.
In other news, Ewan just said hi on MSN, and I have to go battle the powers of technoconservatism to get .Net 1,1 installed somewhere.
Still, it keeps me off the streets
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And how shit am I?
A tree. But not the one they wrapped the car around. Somehow, in all of this bloggingness, I completely failed to mention that Mojen had a car crash over the weekend. She’s ok, but a bit battered and bruised and whiplashed. Gayrath was driving her to (or from, or something) her mam’s birthday party (or something) and then skidded on some ice and wrote the car off around a tree. Thankfully, they’re both ok, though. Not fun!
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And there’s more
Grrr In other news, Alan and I caught /QAF US/ on E4 last night. I was a little disturbed at my sequence of events (over the space of 30 seconds or so): “Ooh, he’s pretty” … “He looks very familiar” … “Oh, he was in Buffy ” … "Ah yes, that’d be Fabrizio Filippo whose character was in season three-ish of Buffy and wanted to become a vampire cos he was dying or something." … “I wonder if he’ll get his kit off” (he didn’t last night, but he has his arse out in some clip I saw the other day: he perdy!).
Must watch QAF US more, methinks.
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Erk!
Dr Nix I’ve been told off. I made a flippant comment about the Québecois keeping Canada sane. But my good friend Dr Nix emigrated over that way a little while back. Apparently (who’d’ve thought) I was being a bit silly. Actually (so I’m told) all the Québecois (apart from Julie, presumably, and Dr Isabelle Côté, of course) are rednecks who are more obsessed with their language than we Welsh types and screw about with Canadian politics. Or something.
Still, twas really good to get a mail from her (we’re both far too shit at remembering to email each other) and she should be coming over here sometime soon(ish), so we can catch up over gins and tonic.