In the predictable style of me, I have already grown tired of this project. The goal of this project was to teach myself raw html, and that I have done. This site was created with no programming of any kind. When I want to create a new post, I pull up a template, activate the previous/next buttons, create the title, activate the previous post’s next button, add the content to the homepage, and add the link to the archive page. Then I upload these files to my site. Which is not too difficult.

But suppose that instead of writing these words here, I thought them more appropriate in the header? Well, I would have to go into each individual page file and cut/paste to edit what was written up top.

Cumbersome.

There are many things I think I could improve on this page, and yet to do any one of them would be quite boring and time consuming.

Thus, I am done with what html alone can do for me. On to greener pastures.

Problem now is that I was looking at drupal, which led me to looking at mysql, which led me to php, which led me to 8,856,495,157,674 questions about…well…everything. It is as if I sat down with a novel written in Japanese and decided to translate as I went. Not so much luck. Thus, I am a bit overwhelmed at the moment. (Any suggestions?)

All of this just to say that this site will probably not change much, contrary to what I’ve written above. It will probably stay just like this (though I will continue to post) until I figure out how to wrangle some more sophisticated tools.

Wish me luck.

Today’s vocabulary words are as follows:
petrol: gasoline
spirit level: level
a bit crap: terrible
lurgy (LER-gee): general malaise, as we would say, a cold
dispensing chemist: pharmacy
waffles: can be made of potato – like a hash brown patty
plaster: band aid
pastilles: cough drops
trifle: yummy custard-y goodness

As in:
I woke up one morning ::coughcoughafternooncough:: and K asked if I wanted waffles and eggs for breakfast. I answered of course. She pulled them out of the freezer and stuck them into the oven and then made delicious scrambled eggs. We all sat down to eat and M put ketchup on her waffle. I scoffed and pointed out how gross that was, but was then surprised to realize that my waffle was savory and made of potato. My bad.
At some point, D cut his arm and asked for a plaster to bandage it. K then declared that she was feeling a bit crap so we watched some movies.

By the next morning, K had a full-on case of the lurgy and there was enough petrol in the car for D to drive her to work to ease her commute. I rode along for fun.

I thought perhaps I should tape a spirit level to K’s arm so she could right herself despite the lightheadedness or perhaps make a trip to a dispensing chemist for some pastilles but was distracted by the trifle in the kitchen and thus spent my day reveling in the wonder that is custard.

Class dismissed.

I threw on my running shoes yesterday and cruised down to Hyde Park for a run. I made it about six centimeters before collapsing. It was awesome.

I got home and decided there must be something to it. I mean, I’m not that lame. Like…umm…well…we…um…we…must be at a way higher altitude here. Ya! That’s it! We’re on a tiny, flat island, but we’re totally high up. Makes perfect sense. That’s why I could barely breathe.

Unfortunately I’m too smart for my own good. I looked it up. I was wrong.

World: 1
Me: 0

Then I decided to use only the stairs in the tube stations for the rest of the day (has anyone else noticed that no one uses the stairs here?).

Mistake.

I hurt.

Today, some guy working in a cafe said to me, “Ça va?” And I knew what it meant. And I knew how to answer. No. Wait. Let me repeat that. I SPOKE FRENCH TODAY. Okay, so not much French. But I conversed in the real world with a real French person IN FRENCH. That is, in NOT ENGLISH. Which makes me feel so much better than I felt yesterday sitting in a cafeteria in the Natural History Museum overhearing two poorly behaved young boys goof around in French, followed by goofing around in German, followed by a conversation in English about just how darn silly it was to speak in German for no reason.

Ya, kid, I know. Speaking many languages. How foolish.

This is where I sleep in my UK home.