iTunes iNnoyance

This evening I have been mostly uploading my first audiobook to my iTunes library and then to my ipod.

Won't be doing that again.

Its not like uploading your usual music cd. At least this effort wasn't. iTunes couldn't get any track names, cover art etc from Gracenote so I spent about 1/2 an hour typing in all the details, making sure it all matched up etc. Tedious but simple. Or so I thought. Only, you see, it was loaded into my ipod as a 'music' cd not an audiobook as I thought it would. And once it was in my ipod the tracks were in alphabetical order not the correct running order as in my library. Arse! Much faffing around ensued but I really couldn't figure out how to change it. Thankfully Ben A and Noax came to my rescue and, more tedious faffing around changing file names later, I had it in my audiobook section. Only in my ipod its still in the wrong order. Oh well, It'll have to do.

After all that I decided to browse on iTunes for more books. Only to find the very cd I'd just uploaded but £1 more expensive. So I can either buy an actual physical cd cheaply and spend hours pissing about with it to get it mostly right or spend an extra quid and have no hassle. Frustrating doesn't even begin to describe it. Gah!

Big up to the lads btw. Apparently some people do read my blog. A whale of a time was had in the Lass O Gowrie last night watching silly old Dr Who videos and deciding which companions were the foxiest. I still say Leela wins hands down.

And a big up to Bob who turned 40 last week. Much fun was had at his do in Liverpool but I think I'm way too old now to be up that late tramping round the 'Pool in the freezing cold. There was a point in the Chinese where I suddenly felt like I was having a mid-life crisis. I can't remember what triggered it now. That's middle age for you. I've found out that another of my friends is exactly the same age as Bob so a big up to Adele too.

I've discovered more daytime tv to while away my time. I've got into a routine now. Its 'Escape to the Country' to watch people with annoyingly huge amounts of money buy gorgeous houses, then either eps of Frasier I've Sky+ed or DS9 if its an ep I like, various repeats of 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' and I'll spend the rest of the afternoon in town if I need some shopping or watching more stuff I've Sky+ed or surfing the net. By far the best show I've discovered is a US import called 'The Dog Whisperer'. I've decided that Cesar Millan is my hero and a god. He is to dog training what Kim & Aggie are to house cleaning. Not that I'm a dog person, I'm more into cats but what he does with them is nothing short of amazing. He can take the most psychotic deranged hound and turn it into an adorable bundle of snuggly fun. He always says that its the owners he trains, he just rehabilitates the dogs. Apparently most of the bad behaviour you get in dogs is down to the owner not being a calm assertive pack leader which is first and foremost what a dog needs. It doesn't sound much when I describe it here. Its much better to watch the programme and see what I mean. Go on, you know you want to.

Whoooaa... here comes the flood!

Oh what an adventure I've had this weekend. It was a friend's 40th which I'd arranged to go to on the train. Which wouldn't normally be a problem but he lives in a town in Oxfordshire and its one of the few places around there that isn't currently under water. I went down on Friday which turned out to be a big mistake. The Virgin train I was on got as far as Birmingham and then stopped. We weren't going any further. I had a brief moment of panic, thinking the worst that I wasn't going to make the party or that I was going to have to find somewhere to sleep for the night etc. Then I remembered that there was a Dr Who convention on in Brum that weekend and that several lovely people I knew were going to be there. The thought calmed me that even if I was stuck in Brum I at least had somewhere to go and kind people to look after me. Its only just occurred to me tonight that I also have a friend in Brum who would probably have put me up for the night. Ah well.

Anyway, as a few of us who were heading for Oxford milled about New St station there was an announcement that we could either get a train to London and another one from there to Oxford (good job we didn't as we'd have been just as stuck there) or we could get a train to Coventry where there were buses to Banbury. So we went to Coventry. Rail announcers being the lying bastards they are there were no buses to Banbury from Coventry. Not even a rail-replacement bus which would surely be the normal routine. We could get yet another train to Leamington though. And trains from Leamington to Banbury (and Oxford) were running ok. Oh wait, no we aren't going anywhere actually. Flooding around Leamington is too bad so we all pile off the train again. So we abandon trains altogether. About half a dozen of us congregated at the taxi rank to try and get transport to Banbury. Five or six fit into one cab which (as I pointed out) wasn't very logical since that would leave one or two of us to pay a full fare all the way while the other lot would split a bill 5 ways at least. So one sensible chap got out again. The others decided they didn't give a shit though so off they went. I volunteered to stay with the chap so he wouldn't have to foot the entire bill and he pottered off to try and find others who were going that way. No such luck until in a fit of bravado I shouted at the top of my lungs for anyone who was going to Banbury. Suddenly there was a flood (ha ha) of interest and four others joined us in squeezing into the cab. Cosy.

So there we were an hour later, still on the fringes of Coventry and stuck in traffic. We'd chatted on and off, discussed where we were going and how we were going to get there, how long it was likely to take etc. We passed a tree that'd fallen onto the by-pass and various areas of flooded motorway. Another cab drew alongside full of people who were going to Oxford. One lady decided to make a run for it and she hopped into the Oxford cab with the assistance of our driver. Another hour and a half and we were playing a silly game where we had to name films that began with the letters of the alphabet. A girl who wanted to get to High Wycombe decided enough was enough and she popped out for a fag, valiantly jogging alongside as the cab crawled along at about 2 miles per hour. My bladder was beginning to make its presence known. The driver asked if we wanted to stop at Warwick services. Good job we said we could wait as it turned out that was where the problem was. The world and his fecking dog were queueing up to get into Warwick services. The millisecond we got past the slip road we were off and away at a rate of knots. There was a slight delay further on but we got through that relatively quickly.

Sooo. Banbury station then. And trains were running. Half of us dashed off for the loo then returned for hasty goodbyes and good lucks. The train for Oxford was due in 15 minutes. Paul, who had tried to make it from Faringdon to Banbury to pick me up and failed, made another attempt to get to Oxford. The road from his place to Oxford was bisected by a flood which had proved impossible to get through. The train was late and I looked at the info board to find that my train had disappeared off it. Oh shit. Looks like I'm in Banbury for the night. Then lo and behold there was an announcement and the Oxford train appeared. Hurrah! Many many flooded fields were passed on the way. Many many. I got to Oxford. Ten minutes later and Paul arrived. We sped off toward Faringdon and the flooded roundabout which we forded without too much trouble.

I checked into my B&B which from the outside looked like a relic from Scooby Doo or the Hammer House of Horror series but which was brightly lit and normal on the inside if a little old fashioned. And then I trotted off to the pub next door for some much needed sweet sweet beer with Paul and Caroline. Bliss. I was so bloody grateful to be there I bought a largish round in.

I'd planned to pop back into Oxford the next day to get some stuff but after looking round Faringdon I found what I needed very easily so I didn't bother going. I went and chilled back in the B&B, had a snooze, read the paper, watched the BBC news and went to meet P&C at the coffee shop across the road for coffee and cake. Mmmmm. Apple Cake. Soft and moist and apply, cinnamonny mmmmm. Had a bit of a look round the very picturesque church and then a long walk to the folly which was closed & back to the B&B again for more chilling and snoozing and showering. Party was utterly fab. Lots of people there who I'd not seen for ages. Live music, free thai curry, more sweet sweet beer and a very silly game with After Eight mints where you put a mint on your forehead and have to get it into your mouth without touching it - only using facial muscles. Mine ended up on the floor. Everyone had lovely streaks of brown down their faces. Funny as fuck.

Lots of us then crammed into P&Cs flat for more booze but by then I'd had enough alcohol and just wanted to chill out and chat. I had a lovely long conversation with Penny who I haven't seen for about three years (and also joined by Steve and Bob) and we gabbed about John Barrowman in panto, actors staying to sign autographs after shows, our shared love of Dempsey and Makepeace and about Cagney and Lacey on the Graham Norton show. Ah but then it was all over and we made our way back to our hotels/B&Bs, narrowly avoiding a domestic nearby.

A final brunch at the coffee shop next day and that was it. I didn't bother trying to get the train and begged a lift from Bob. Thanks Bob.

Big thanks to Paul and Caroline who looked after me over the weekend and who hosted a marvellous party.