Archives: Day-to-day

Tuesdays are traditionally oone of those nothing days, aren’t they?  They’re not Monday, so there’s no real reason to hate them, but neither are they Friday, with the joy of an impending weekend, nor Sunday, with it’s laid back, pipe-and-slippers feel.

So it was a wonderful turn up for the books yesterday when we seemed to have a belated Christmas of good tidings all tumble into our laps over the course of a happy, exciting, smile-making morning, afternoon and evening.

First thing in the morning, we kicked off with a wonderful double-whammy for K where in the space of 30 minutes she discovered not only that she had she been accepted on her college course – a 12-month access to healthcare which will set her up to head to uni to study Speech Therapy next year – but also that she’s been granted an interview for a job which would fit both her and our needs perfectly.

Coming directly on top of that, I had a HUGELY productive morning working on the Laughter for Life show, getting to grips with a number of pressing issues.  Most unbelievably generous and fantastic for us was the agreement of Steve at Tin Racer, who do all the design work for CF Talk, to design the programmes for the night for free.  Not only that, but he also offered to talk to his contacts to see if we can get it printed for free, too!

After beavering away on all things funny for the morning, we then popped out to Mazda to test drive the Mazda 6 – a proper, grown-up car which I have to confess I’ve rather fallen in love with.  I’ve been looking to change my current car on the Motablilty scheme since November, when I realised that in order to stay mobile when I’m less well, it may be better for me to have an automatic gearbox, to take away some of the physical exertion of driving.  It now looks like we’ve found the right car – and may well be off to order it tomorrow!

On top of all of that, K then started her college course in the evening (cutting it fine on the admissions front, MK College…) and came through the evening unscathed and looking forward to what the next 12 months hold academically.

I spent the time she was in college hanging out with a friend who I haven’t spent a lot of time with for ages and we caught up.  Adding to the Super Tuesday feel, he was filling me in on his new relationship (early stages, but hey, it’s still a relationship) and I couldn’t have been happier for him.  I know he’s feeling a bit conflicted about it all at the moment (loooooong story…) but I think it’s fab and he should enjoy it!

Every now and again one of those days come along where everything just seems to go your way.  So often in life we can only remember those days when everything seems to go against you, so I’m determined to hold on to the memoryof my Super Tuesday and use it in future to blast away the cobwebs when I’m starting to doubt my productivity or the wisdom of things.

Everyone should have a Super Tuesday at some point, and when you do, make sure you lodge it in your memory and share the good news with all around you.  Nothing like a ray of sunshine through the snow to make people smile.

Believe me, I know how strange this sounds coming from someone who’s spent the last two months writing about the various different ups and downs in his live, but just now I’m finding it unbelievably hard to find the right words to describe just how happy I’m feeling.

This is one of those periods of life that just make you sit back and smile – to count your blessings and realise that the world is not really a big, evil place that intent on wearing you down, but rather that if you put yourself in the right position to be the master of your own destiny and you look at the world from the right perspective, things will sooner or later start to swing your way.

I can also appreciate how bizarre it might sound for someone who is currently waiting for someone else to die so that he can have a chance of a fresh, new tilt at life to even begin to decribe himself as the master of his own destiny.

But success or failure, good or bad, up or down is all a matter of perception.

Paul McKenna, in numerous published writings (not least Change Your Life in 7 Days, which I would recommend to anyone, even the most sceptical of self-help depreciators) cites the words of Thomas Edison when questioned as to how he felt after failing for the 700th time in his attempt to invent the electric light:

“I have not failed 700 times. I have not failed once. I have succeeded in proving that those 700 ways will not work. When I have eliminated all the ways that will not work, I will find the way that will work.”

Right now, in as much as these things matter to me, everything is going my way:

I’m back living at home in my lovely little flat with my girlfriend whom I’m very much in love with and I’m honoured to say is very much in love with me.

I’m working on 3 projects which not only motivate and excite me, but also give me aims, objectives and reasons to keep well.

My chest is behaving exactly as I expect it to.  It’s not ever going to fire on all cylinders again, but that’s why I’m on the transplant list.  All I can ask it to do now is support me as best it can until such time as God sees fit to call time on these knackered old blowers and give me a fresh set.

I’m surrounded by people whom I love and who love me back – my friends are fantastic and don’t ever make me feel bad for not being able to join in  things, nor complain when I pull out of things at the last minute; my family all go out of their way to do whatever I need of them, no matter how little or unreasonable; people I work with make huge allowances for what I can and can’t do and never bat an eyelid or make me feel like I’m stretching their patience (even when I know I must – I stretch my OWN patience with some of the last-minute turnarounds, it can’t be easy for others to deal with).

Every once in a while all the pieces in your life seem to align just so – like the planets and the sun, or the cogs of a machine – and for a moment life seems just right.  And it’s so, so, so important to seize that moment, to recognise it for what it is: fleeting perfection of it’s own kind which will last but a flicker, but if you see it and grasp it, it will last forever in the memory.

I’m under no illusions that this will continue unabated; I know there will be trouble ahead – harder times, darker times, more challenging and less fun times, but damned if I’m not going to enjoy the good stuff while it’s here.

Like the song says: while there’s moonlight and music and love and romance, I’ll be the one on the dance floor.

I’m sitting here tonight feeling very tired, but not shattered and still with some energy left in the batteries, which is a big step forward on last week, when come mid-way through Thursday afternoon (following the Youth Theatre sessions on Wednesday night) I was completely exhausted.

The sessions were great yesterday – we finished casting all the pieces, which is a job that remains just as difficult no matter how many times you’ve done it before, how well you know the people you’re working with, or how much preparation you’ve done.  As per usual, Suze and I spent a huge chunk of time in the session with people coming in and out to read for us.

What made it particularly difficult this time around was the strength of the group and the strength of the material.  We want more than anything to make sure that everyone who is coming along this term, whether a new member or an old hand, gets a chance to really stretch themselves and do something which is going to challenge them.  With this final round of casting, I think we’ve achieved that and I’m looking forward to the rehearsal process immensely.

This week was also particularly good because I got to hear my chorus piece in the mouths of the group and see whether it worked or not. I’m pretty chuffed to say it did – and I’m always amazed at the qualities that a cast bring to my writing over and above what I’ve written.  It’s exciting to see something you’ve written coming off the page and being performed – doubly so when it “works” and, for comedy, when it makes you and other people laugh.

I managed my energy levels a lot better this week than I did last week.  I used my O2 a lot more in the session, making sure I was on it whenever I was sat down – either at the side of the room during an exercise or for the script readings and other parts of the session, too.  I also took along snack food and drink to keep my energy levels up and ate well before I left, too, to make sure I made the most of my time there without exhausting myself.

It’s an annoying process to have to calculate your energy expenditure before doing anything and working out what is an isn’t possible, but it’s also a part of my life now that’s not going to change until my transplant, so there’s no point griping about it.  I’m a lot happier knowing that I’m getting to grips with it and can see potential trouble-spots far enough ahead to compensate for them.

Thursdays are now my designated “off” days, to allow for the fact that if I do over do things at work, I can spend the whole day in bed if I need to.  My diary is always clear on a Thursday now, and it will remain that way all the time I’m still working at the sessions to ensure I can give them my all without having to worry about the impact it will have on “tomorrow” and having to cancel or rearrange plans.

Because of that, I’ve actually done very little today, but it’s been nice to chill out a bit, since I’ve spent most of the week so far busying myself with my myriad diffferent tasks in the study.  I’m really enjoying being so busy and having so much on – particularly things that I can do from home without having to worry about expending energy going out and doing things.

More on my current projects as they develop, but lots of cool things happening, so keep ’em peeled.  Offers of help always appreciated (Rob) and likely to be taken up – anyone know any well-known stand-ups we can call?

Today has been just as productive as yesterday, but also HUGELY more exciting because I officially climbed aboard a project being run by the Live Live Then Give Life campaign putting on a comedy night at the Mermaid Theatre in London in March.

The history to the night is quite long and convoluted, but mainly involves Emily getting a phone call a while back from Bill Bailey, who’d been told through the grapevine from a reader of her blog that she was a fan and had been having a hard time.

Now, there’s a very funny story here about serial-schmoozer Emily getting hideously tongue-tied and not being able to form sentences, but I wouldn’t like to embarrass her, so I’ll leave that bit out. Oh wait….

Anyway, after chatting to her for a while, Bill apparently succumbed to what many people have come to know as the “Emily Effect” – that is, having spoken to a remarkable friendly, eloquent, funny, determined and energetic (in speech, at least) young woman about all the issues on which she campaigns, he offered to do whatever he could to help.

Some months later, Emily has decided that now is a good time to go get some new lungs (I’m told they’re 2007’s must-haves) and left her LLTGL partner-in-crime Emma high-and-dry staring down the barrel of a show in 6 weeks time with a whole range of “To Do’s” still “To Be Done”.

So, shining my armour and mounting my steed (yes, my steed!), I fired off an email to Emma gallantly offering my services as Production Manager extraordinaire to fill any gaps she may have.

Now, there must have been some sort of mis-communication here, because Emma and her wonderful, throw-your-hand-in, get-stuck-in, jump-in-the-deep-end husband Brad seem to have developed the mistaken impression that I was actually offering to help them out and do some work.

Clearly, they don’t know me well enough to know that when I offer to help it’s nothing but an empty gesture and what I really mean is I’ll be happy to sit on my rump in bed at home and watch Bill Bailey DVDs and tell people how funny he is.

Still, being the awfully polite person I am, I suddenly felt like it would be terribly improper of me to point out their error, so it looks like I’m on board…

I really don’t know how I get myself into these fixes, but now I’m here, I supposed I’ll just make a fist of it and see what I can’t do to make things run a little smoothly.

Right now there’s all sorts of bits and pieces remaining to be organised, including nailing down who exactly is going to be on the bill.  Through Bill Bailey’s management we’ve aquired a strong line-up of fresh comedians willing to entertain the masses, and we’re still hopeful of getting a few last gasp names to pop along too.

I’ve got my list of To Do’s passed down and am liasing with the venue and management about technical requirements and other such things, as well as sticking my oar in wherever I see opportunity.

It’s looking like it’s going to be a really good evening and, more importantly, is going to go a good way to helping support the LLTGL campaign’s current objectives – of which more at a later date.

Tickets should be on sale within the next week or so and I’ll post with details as soon as they are, but for now if you’re in, around or fancy going to the Mermaid Theatre for a cracking night of stand-up, book out 4th March in your diary and watch this space!

A new era has been ushered in in the House of Oli (like the House of Usher, but hopefully not falling*) – an era of cool, calm productivity which, I predict, will reign for years to come.

Sceptics would say that it will reign until a week next Wednesday, but I’ve never listened to the nay-sayers in my life, so I shall continue to thumb my nose at them and live in blissful ignorance for the foreseeable future.

Today, I have mostly been working diligently in my study – beavering away at my newly-imported (read: bought in John Lewis) keyboard which has made my entire office set-up both more ergonomic and more fun – the clacking of keys on a proper keyboard is so much more preferable to the tapping of lap-top keys, don’t you find?

Of course, it may only be little ol’ me who has a strange obsession with the noises made by keys on a keyboard, but when you’re working life consists almost solely of one particular noise, it’s good to find one that agrees with you. Not that lap-top key noises are disagreeable, as such, they’re just not as good as…. oh stop now.

Anyway, in addition to going a good way to clearing the backlog of emails waiting for my immediate attention in my three inboxes (don’t ask, it’s too complicated), I managed to comission two articles for CF Talk, take further steps towards establishing a dedicated DVD section on the Close-Up Film website, of which I am nominally DVD Editor but have yet to really start work proper, and also got involved in a really exciting charity project happening in March, which I will expand on when I’m able.

Not only did I achieve all that just from sitting at my desk, but I also cleared a huge backlog of clearing and tidying of the stuff we brought back to the flat from my Mum and Dad’s, AND had time for a 2-hour brain-storming planning session for the video sections of the Youth Theatre show in April.

Now, those of you who followed the progress of the last show on my Myspace blog will know that the multi-media elements served to provide the toughest test of my unflappable Production Managership (it’s a word, I said so!!) and my “never rip the head off a moron” motto.

Luckily this time we will be undertaking the filming work purely on our lonesome, Suze having handed over the reigns to myself and Rheya, my counterpart in the production management of the show and soon to be co-producer, co-director of the filmed sections of the show. We have no obligation whatsoever to involve Milton Keynes College or any of their students – Happy Day!
At the flat today we spent a wonderful couple of hours batting ideas to and fro and narrowing them down to a workable length and story-line to open the show with. Obviously, it’s all mega-top-secret and if I told you I’d have to kill you, so for both our sakes (don’t forget I’m lazy) I’m going to keep my cards close to my chest. My eyesight’s not good anyway, so it’s easier to read them the closer they are.

Tomorrow, I’m aiming for more of the same, and I’m also going to try not to eat strange little badly-cooked frozen mini-pizzas for lunch. But that’s another hurdle all together…

*If you don’t know it, Google it!

After nearly 6 weeks away from my little Oli-world in far, far Bletchley (that’s kind of like a Galaxy far, far away, only with less hospitable bars) I’m back and wonderfully happy to be in my own space again.

Mum and Dad have been fantastic over the last two months and have really gone out of their way to make it look like they’ve not been going out of their way to accomodate me, when I know it must have been a pain in the butt.  I appreciate the fact that most parents would do whatever they could to make life easier for their offspring, but that doesn’t make it any less wonderful when they do.

I suppose it helped that my bro was home for a good chunk of the time too, because at least I could pretend that maybe a little of the disruption was thanks to him, but I know that it’s mostly me!

Still, I’m out of their hair now, although I dare say I’ll be just as, if not more, reliant on them back here than I was at home.  I know that when the going gets tough here, it’s going to get really tough, even with K around to help out, but we’re all prepared for it and we’ll tackle whatever hiccups come our way head on and with true Lewington smiles plastered all over our faces.

It’s just a really wonderful feeling to be back here, living with K and enjoying being just the two of us for the first time since November.  More than anything, it’s been lovely tonight just to curl up on the sofa and watch TV and chill out.

I’m possibly slightly sadly over-excited at the thought of getting down to work tomorrow in my newly re-mastered study – the story of which is an epic tale of human calculation and lateral thinking that only my Dad and I could get lost in.  Even my mild-mannered mother started losing her rag with us yesterday.  Suffice it to say that it’s not too easy to work out how to fit 2 bookcases, a desk, a filing cabinet, a drawer chest and a soon-to come coat stand into one former bedroom.

All of the excitement of the move and the on-going tidying, sorting and clearing has drained my batteries for the day, though, so I’m off to bed for a good rest up in my own bed, with my own pillows, my own sheets and my lovely K beside me.  Oh, and Neve, too.

So the New Year has started proper now, hasn’t it?  First day back at work notched up and I’m relishing the challenges ahead.

It was awesome to be back at the Theatre and to see the group again.  The majority of the girls are still the same people I’ve been working with for a while now and it was like slipping back into a comfortable pair of shoes, or a freshly made bed, or something similarly warm, comfortable and welcoming.

The guys I did know seemed so happy to see me that it really lifted my spirits and the ones who I didn’t didn’t seem to think of me as too much of a freak, which was good.

I have to confess, I was feeling pretty nervous ahead of time – it’s been over 6 months since I last properly set foot inside the Theatre and whilst it’s full of familiar and friendly faces, I couldn’t escape the fact that for me, a lot has changed since I was last there.

Striding in with my oxygen cylinder (OK, strolling), I tried to embody the kind of confidence with which I normally arrived at the building, but I found it a lot harder to muster my usual sense of artistic bravado.  Somehow the oxygen makes me feel weaker, and more self-conscious, and at the same time I know that it’s only my attitude which is creating that impression.

As much as people tell me that no one notices the O2, I know that it’s not true.  It may not be as big a deal to other people as it is to me, but it’s also nonsense to pretend it’s invisible.  My hang-up about looking “ill” came back with a vengence and seems to be staying firmly put for the time being, although I’m trying hard to learn to ignore it.

I didn’t wear my O2 all the way through the session – apart from any vanity-related reasons, it’s hard to fully engage with a group when you’re tied to a cylinder and I sure as heck wasn’t going to have the energy to lug it all around the rehearsal room with me.

On reflection, I should have been more strict with myself and re-attached when I was sitting down discussing ideas or talking to the group and only coming off when we were doing something that demanded me being on my feet.

That’s a big part of the learning curve that I’m going to be on for the next few weeks, though, and I know I’m going to have to push my boundaries to a large degree and see what I can and can’t cope with.  I appreciate that I don’t have much room for error, but if I don’t try things I’m never going to know how much impact I can have on things.

The rehearsal itself went really well.  The group are all really keen and worked really well, incorporating the new people quickly and in a much more friendly and welcoming way than has often happened in the past. 

They were also all really pleased with the ideas for the show that Suze had drawn up and happy with the casting for the sections we’ve decided on.  There’s going to be a few tough calls on casting for some of the pieces and I think the Hamlet section could prove a tough one to fill – whoever we choose is going to have to work hard.  The great thing with this group, though, is that you know they all will work hard and give it their best.

The 4-hours I was out of the house was, I think, about my limit for the time being – although the strain was doubtless enhanced by my being off the O2 – and on Thursday I really felt it. 

I woke up feeling pretty good, although tired, and I knew I had to take it really easy all day.  Things seemed to go pretty well in recovery terms until about mid-afternoon when everything took a bit of a nose-dive and I completely ran out of energy.

About 5pm my reserves seemed to have deserted me and I was left absolutely shattered and dying for my bed.  I eventually made it until about 9pm, but not before I’d managed to cause a mini-argument with K over the phone by trying to organise things when I was tired.

I really knew I was exhausted when I found myself in bed reading Ben Fogle and James Cracknell’s story of their Atlantic rowing race and getting emotional with the ups and downs they were experiencing in their moods.  When they talked of missing their wives and getting tearful and I started welling up too, I knew I’d let myself get WAY too tired.

Still, today has been a clear and bright day (mentally, if not meteorologically) and I’ve been to Oxford, where my lung function was only ever-so-slightly down (which I still put down to it being taken before not after physio) at 0.7/1.3 and my weight had risen to 50.8kg.  I also spoke to the dietitian about the sickness I’ve been feeling and she prescribed me… something I can’t remember for a couple of weeks to see if it takes it away.

Tonight, with my Gramps here and my bro heading off into the sunset on another punishing course (who’d be in the army, eh?), we sat and ate dinner together before he high-tailed it away to colder, wetter climbs.  Rather him than me. 

Now all that’s left is for me to get my beauty sleep before Phase 1 of the Move Home tomorrow.  If all goes to plan, I’ll be back living in my little apartment paradise by this time Sunday!

Anyone watching last night’s edition of Watchdog would have seen the BBC taking Allied Respiratory to task for their abject failures in the oxygen delivery system – which you may have read me blogging about in the past.

You would also have seen that doyen of small-screen campaigning, my good friend Emily, performing admirably in berating the oxygen companies whilst simultaneously looking gorgeous and intelligent at the same time.

Frankly, there was very little of substance to the programme by way of solutions, but it was invaluable to help highlight the problems that oxygen users are facing and the poor job that Allied have been doing.  It was telling that they didn’t send anyone along to the programme, simply supplying an apology statement.

To this end – although not related to the Watchdog programme itself – I’ll be going along to a meeting at the end of the month with the Chief Exec of the CF Trust at the Department of Health along with representatives of Allied.  Although pwcf are not the only ones who depend on oxygen delivery, it plays a significant part in many of their lives and any benefits or progress we can make on our behalf will only serve to benefit others as well.

Of course, it should really be Em’s realm to follow up her campaigning for better oxygen provision, but as we are all so wonderfully aware, she is otherwise detained at the moment!

Speaking of which, by way of an update – Emily was taken off her ventilator yesterday and is now breathing on her own with her bright, shiny, clean new lungs!! Hooray for her and here’s to many more years of happy deep breathing!

Who’d have thought I’d be back to studying, eh?

Not 24 hours after my mammoth meeting on the new show, I realised that if I was going into rehearsals on Wednesday, I’d sure as heck better have done some work on the script I’m tackling.

It wasn’t till I sat down to piece together the sections of text from Hamlet and Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead that I realised it was going to be impossible to work from copies of the script I had, so I’d have to type it all out fresh for the cast to use.

Laborious as it was, I’m actually grateful for the need to take the long way round, because it took me through both texts line-by-line, which got me much closer to them than I would have been if I’d just have given them a cursory glance through.

The basic idea of what I’m trying to do is use two of Shakespeare’s scenes with Hamlet, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (or Ros and Guil, as their mates – well, my type-worn fingers – call them) to book-end my favourite section of R&GAD involving a rapid-fire word game which is not only fun to watch, but also to perform and direct.  The contrast between the language and the style of performance in the two different parts (ancient and modern) is a great opportunity for the actors to really explore and play with the text and their characters.

What I didn’t count on, wading through the text as I typed it out, was just how much extra work I’d created for myself by going back to Shakespeare’s original.  Foolishly, having studied it for A-Level, I was hugely confident of my grasp of the material.  But looking at it again I realised that although I still had a good hold of the sense of it, there were a hundred questions that leapt out at me from the verse which, as an actor, I would immediately have thrown at the director.

Being the director, that means I have to know the answer.  Of course, it’s not as simple as just throwing out an answer – I prefer, in rehearsals, to let the actors reach their own decisions and conclusions about what they’re doing – but in order to keep them on the right track and not flailing off in random directions which take us round in circles, I needed to swat up on my ancient English and get to grips with Will’s words.

Remarkably, I slipped back into my studying patterns without so much as a hiccup.  In fact, I think I may have been better at it now than I was when I was studying it to be tested on.  Whether that’s a reflection on my abilities, or motivation, as a student, or on the problems with teaching Shakespeare in an English class I’m not quite sure.

Whatever the result and however well it goes in rehearsals, there is no doubt that getting back into creative endevours – and practical ones at that – has refreshed my mind and my imagination and pushed my motivation to stay fit, healthy and able to work even harder than it was before.

More than anything else right now, I want to be able to see this through to the end.  Ok, if I get my transplant call, I might just see fit to relinquish my role (provided, of course, I get comps to the show…), but beyond that, I don’t want anything else to get in the way of me being able to do the thing that’s been so missing from my life.

So it’s double-physio, extra drinks (of the build-up kind, not the alcoholic kind) and plenty of rest throughout the day so that I can make the very most of the opportunity afforded me.

And if you haven’t bought your tickets yet – why not!?!?!

I’ve had a brilliant day today, taken up mostly with a mammoth 4-hour meeting with Suze and Rheya about the MKT show this April.

The show, which is going to be in aid of the Cystic Fibrosis Trust, will be something of a gala performance for the Activ8 Youth Theatre, with whom Suze and I have worked (on-and-off on my part) for the last 5-6 years.  We’ve never had the opportunity to start with such carte blanche as we’ve been given here, and it’s fantastic – if a little daunting.

The Youth Theatre have been lucky in the past if they secured a single performance date in a 12-month period, so to have this show coming so quickly off the back of the summer show is exciting in and of itself, but to have such free reign to make the most of our stage time is a fantastic opportunity for all the children and young people involved.

So far, we’re looking at doing devised pieces for the youngest three groups, and then a combination of devised, scripted and new-writing pieces with the oldest group – who have mostly been with us for a long time and will no doubt be raring to display the many facets of stage-craft they’ve had the chance to develop working with a practitioner as accomplished and, let’s face it, off-the-wall as Suze.

Today’s meeting was spent hammering out exactly what each group would be doing – allowing for the fact that the rehearsal process is sure to kick up a few new challenges and options on the way – and also going over a few storylines for some of the devised pieces which needed solidifying before we past them back to the groups to continue working.

The groups have already been working on some of the stuff that will be incorporated into the performance in the last term, but the ideas they’ve developed will all be picked up and run with over the course of the next 10 weeks leading up to the show.  The idea is that we’ll be using familiar material but probe deeper into it to make sure we’re challenging them to come up with something that will push them and make the most of the showcase they’ve been offered.

I’m most excited about the fact that I’m due to return to rehearsals on Wednesday and Suze has offered me the opportunity to write part of the show and to direct a separate section with some of the older group involved.  It’s been so long since I’ve directed anything from scratch that I’m REALLY looking forward to it and can’t wait to get going.

The section I’m working on is an amalgam of scenes from Hamlet and Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead – a show I’ve always wanted to direct in its entirety.

I have to confess I’ve been a little on the tired side after our enormous brain-storming/planning session, but I feel so jazzed at the thought of being part of this show.  It’s wonderfully exciting to be working with the groups towards something that will really show their families and, hopefully, the wider community, what they are capable of doing.

Tickets are available NOW from the Milton Keynes Theatre box office 0870 060 6652 (with a booking fee) or online here. (plug, plug)

In other news: my new BlackBerry arrived today, too!!  After all my to-ing and fro-ing with O2 (the phone company, not the oxygen people), I managed not only to secure a free upgrade to the BlackBerry, but also to upgrade my call plan to double the minutes (400) and ten times the texts (1,000) per month for the same money.  And I only wanted the phone….

Unfortunately, since it arrived I’ve been castigated by K after spending all morning and half the afternoon in a meeting for then getting so wrapped up in my new toy that I’ve hardly paid any attention to her all day. 

I’d like to make a witty-yet-cutting riposte to show her that she’s completely in the wrong and I’m smugly in the right as usual, but I really can’t defend myself on this one, so I’m going to slope off and use my apologetic face.

EMILY UPDATE: For those of you still keeping tabs on Em (of which I know there are tons) she’s still doing well.  She’s still on the vent for the moment, but her family say things are looking good for now.  Thanks to you all for your love, prayers and support – I know they’re greatly appreciated.