Frustrations

So I'm not eligible for citizenship this year, it seems.  I'm less than thrilled about this; I swear they changed the rules on me, but I can't find any proof of that being the case.  As they post all immigration rule changes on the Home Office website, and I've read through all of them back to 2009, I'm thinking maybe I misunderstood.  Either way, I'm still angry because instead of being able to apply for citizenship and be done with this malarkey, I have to spend another £550 for another visa (settlement/indefinite leave to remain) and I still have to take the stupid "Life in the UK" test, which is another £50, plus £10 for the book.  Like the US citizenship test, no citizen of the country could actually pass it.  Argh.

In addition, I'm still angry at the various neighbors and the noises they produce, but despite that, Adam and I will be signing our Lewisham Road lease for another year.  Our landlord was over today, repainting part of the bathroom for us since we have mildew in places, and it was missing paint over the shower.  I don't think the color matches, but honestly, I really don't care right now.  It still looks better.

Also, our TV is half broken.  Last we looked the picture was ok, but it makes a horrific static/buzzing/hissing sound.  It's not easily described, but it's quite loud, doesn't seem to be coming from the speakers, and we're worried it will burn the house down (some of the possible problems do include fire, according to the ever-trustworthy internet).  So the search for a TV repairman continues, as the number Adam was given is disconnected, and the other number is missing a digit.  Luckily, our aforementioned landlord's father-in-law is a TV repairman, so hopefully Landlord will text me his phone number this evening (it wasn't in his phone).  This is doubly sad because while I was able to finish the first series of Downton Abbey (which is completely awesome, by the way), I just got all seven seasons of Deep Space 9, and without a functioning TV I can't watch them, unless I either a) use Adam's computer or b) grab the little TV from the bedroom and hook it up.  It's a good little TV for a bedroom (except we can't plug it in because there are no outlets on that side of the room), but it's not real good for DVDs or gaming--or really anything that decides to letterbox the screen.  I watched Lord of the Rings on it, and--I kid you not--the picture was only about 3 inches tall.  Also, it hated my PS2 cable, and when we played Lego Star Wars on it, the picture was green.  So all in all it was a very good day when Steve of Titanic Mill gave us his old TV, and then apologized to us that it was so crap.  We love it, and think/hope it just needs to be cleaned to be as good as new.

Otherwise, writing went really well yesterday.  The plot is spinning off in a direction I didn't anticipate, which is ok, since I was hoping something would develop in the way of a plot, but now I have to figure out this particular direction.  I created a "bad guy" with a more-than-usual nefarious plan, that the hero feels obligated to stop, but I don't know what said bad guy's nefarious plan is.  Still, any semblance of a plotline is good because even a vague idea is something I can flesh out, and more than I had before.  So that's finally starting to chug along.  Which is extra good, since the deadline is March.

I'm also going to a conference in York at the end of February, which will hopefully be interesting and very good for both Girl Museum and me professionally.  If all goes well, I'll be presenting with another Girl Museum intern, and she seems extra nice because apparently I can crash at her place instead of shelling out for a room.  Adam thinks I should still get a hotel room, but since he's not coming with me, I'd rather not spend the money since I'm not making any of it.  Besides, it's only for one night, so it's unlikely to be too horrific.  And if it is, well, it's only for one night, and I lived with my freshman roomate for a year at PLU (trust me, it was tough, and not just because I'm a bitch who can't share).  Perhaps someday I should share those stories.  I probably won't, since they're not flattering at all to someone who had pretty severe mental and emotional (and physical) issues, but some are probably funny in hindsight.  About 13 years on, I don't find most of them particularly funny, just sad and hurtful.