My iBook has been all broken and wrong, meaning that we had to take him with us to London last weekend to be dropped off at Laptop Hospital. This was the only low point in an otherwise fabulosa trip, in which the boy wore a wig, I booked us into a South Bank hotel and we attended Lise 'n' Darien's super-fun 70s spectacular. I thought I might be gutted to come back to Historic Bath again, but fortunately the weather was humid and the Tube crammed enough* that I was more than ready for the West Country come Sunday afternoon.

Other news in brief: iBook still wonky, internet access limited, school back in session, tin-foil flock of birds taking over flat.

That is all. If you wish to be entertained further, why not check out my dad's all-new and brilliant blog? Specialist topics include Cycling, Astronomy, Maths, and Why Children Shouldn't Go In Puddles With Their Wellies On.

*Dear All Men,
Please to be looking where you are stepping when standing up on crowded public transport, especially on a Saturday when the vast majority of young women are likely to be wearing flimsy and/or strappy shoes.
Love, My Tragically Bruised Feet. xxx

Big shout-out to my dad, who outed himself as a reader of this website on the phone yesterday. Hi dad! Everyone go and look at his excellent Flickr photo of Edinburgh! Also, you can see a bonus picture of our old dog in his icon. And a mathematically accurate drawing of his back garden, if you're interested. Nice.

In further sartorial news, I am now the proud owner of these Dr Marten biker boots. Now I shall amass an army of parka'd, booted Mods and we will roam the streets of Bath looking for other similarly outmoded nouveau-Rockers to start a fight with.

When not stomping around town, I have been papier mache-ing and sanding my wire birds. They're much sturdier now, and I've been using claycrete instead of the normal paste-and-newspaper malarkey, so the whole business is much quicker. I'm intending to collage and gold leaf them before painting with a high-gloss varnish, but I'm worried that they'll look crap so I'm holding off for a while.

Last day of school tomorrow, and in an employment first, I'm not a burned-out, braindead, end of term basketcase. Hooray!

However is the boy going to visit his Other Wife when I can watch him all day long? Didn't think it through, you fool! As I watch now, the good folks at Future towers are eating gigantic roundy things that look a bit like doughnuts. And laughing. Making a magazine sure is 'taxing'.

In other news, I am getting these guys to make me a pair of jeans and am very excited. Imagine! Jeans that don't trail along the ground/gape at the waist/flatten the arse/pinch the hips! Sure, they may have a hinky website, but who cares when you're wearing the pants of your dreams? Yowza.

And finally, is it wrong to find passive aggressive notes quite so funny?

Did you see? I got 'hacked' by some kind of crazy fundamentalist with terrible spelling! It was fun for all the family.

So yeah, also I've been mucking about with the template and haven't really found a good way of archiving posts yet. I guess the moral of today's post is that my site sux0rs LOL.

Ah well. I have choc ices!

Rumours of my complete mental collapse have been greatly exaggerated. Sure, maybe I started plucking feathers from my pillow, swearing at innocent pedestrians and worshipping the desk fan as a kind of crude false idol, but who's the real lunatic? Who are we to say what's 'normal'? Look, if I want to use iWeb I will, okay? Why don't you just marry Rapidweaver if you love it so much? Jesus.

It's good to be back, right?

How do you like my bitchin' new website? I actually lost the iWeb/Rapidweaver battle, but this template seems to rock the homespun vibe while maintaining my techno credentials, so all's well that ends well. Sorry about the whole password thing, but it seems rather necessary to keep my freakishly blog-savvy students out of my braindribble. Ah well.

How've you been? I am three weeks into my six week break, meaning this is the calmest I ever get. I'm still slightly crazy-eyed on public transport, but I'm relaxed enough to sleep for TEN HOURS at a time! Decadence on a par with the last days of Rome, I know. The boy and I have just been to Devon, a place of sand and sea and crispy batter. It did wonders for both of us and I am now fully able to time-manage my days without a bell ringing every hour. Sweet mercy.