Tired of not being able to sift out my cello-based journal entries, I decided to make a category for it and start sorting through posts. Then I decided to do the same for books, and for music. Because, you know, I don’t have enough to do. (I appear to often mention books and music in the same post. I am sure you are absolutely shocked.)
Poked abut Bureau en Gros this morning while HRH did some photocopying and came out with a new keyboard (requires some getting used to, because not only is it an ergo it’s peaked in the middle, so I’m learning not to move my hands too far and to really thwack the spacebar), and a new wireless card for the laptop (it works, except all the networks around here are locked, which is fine because I bought it for use in public places anyhow). Both on sale/at decent prices, too, so yay me. Then we went to Services Canada for the boy’s SIN.
My two-volume Oxford dictionary arrived on Wednesday, so I came home from my last day of work and had the pleasure of opening it.
Rehearsal Wednesday night was great in that I didn’t walk out of orchestra hating myself. When I’m actually playing the right notes, I like my intonation very much and my expression is decent, too. I lost focus not long after break, but I forgave myself for the stupid mistakes I was making because hey, tired; it’s not like I suck all the time. The entire section is sounding like a unit, which is always pleasant, too.
Yesterday was frustrating because HRH, Liam, and I were looking forward to a family day once he’d helped clear out the apartment downstairs for the floor people to lay the linoleum over the new floor he and the landlord had laid this week. Landlord and HRH started work at 7, were done by 8. The floor people were supposed to show up at 9. They showed up somewhere around 11, and took lunch at 12. We couldn’t really go anywhere because our garage was wide open with all the downstairs apartment’s stuff in it and the driveway. Because they started late, the floor people didn’t leave till fiveish, not noon as we’d expected. You can imagine how impressed HRH and I were, when we had planned to have the entire afternoon to knock about once Liam woke up from his nap. At least our landlord agreed to hang around for an hour and a half while we went out to ai731’s open house at her art studio. It would have been nice to be able to relax the way we’d hoped to, though. There’s nothing either of us hates more than hurrying up to wait.
General note to all who have borrowed our Slings & Arrows DVDs: season three comes out July 3rd. Yes, I have pre-ordered it.
Gig tomorrow night!
Last Day! (Unless something else pops up yet again.) Pleasant surprise to open my file and realise that I am in fact more than half done, I am two-thirds done my final task. Go me! (I knew I was deliberately fudging the math, but not that much. I was so brain-dead yesterday it wasn’t funny.)
And five words defined as “a stupid person”, with one “a stupid and foolish person” thrown in for a bit of variety.
Oh, look. I have the riff from Till My Head Falls Off going through my head. Time for YouTube! (Except they won’t have the correct version, which is to say the Random Colour version. Only the original. I’ll have to settle.)
Yuck. Well, that doesn’t work at all. Warped recording, and our arrangement is better.
Today’s musical surprise in the cafe was another laid-back jazz group, this one a quarter with a violin, two guitars, and a stand-up bass.
Okay, no idea what’s going on with my recording that was supposed to happen at noon; the sound guy isn’t in at all, and no one else who should know has any idea about it. I’m going for lunch.
Back for my last lunch with Meallanmouse. Very sad. And less than a thousand words to go on the final pass!
Done. No, really, really done. Now I’ll check the competition definitions, and then I’m very done.
… or I’ll double-check some of the stuff playtesting and QA is bringing back on the previous version of the dictionary, just to make sure it’s all been handled. Plus I’ll deal with the last US/UK spelling issues.
I feel awful, leaving like this. It’s as if I’m leaving something undone, or for someone else to handle. Except I’m not, really; I’ve done what I can, and I’m thrilled to the heavens with how much better the dictionary is than when I walked in six and a half weeks ago. There will still be mistakes; I’m not so arrogant as to declare that it is perfect. But I’ve caught all I can in the allotted time. Maybe if I assume I’m coming in on Friday, that will make me feel better.
Why do I not own a copy of Time Cat? Or the Westmark books?