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Owen’s blog
Syndicated from Freakcity, this is my other journal; see also <lj user=owenblacker> for my LJ.
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
