Well, it’s been a little while since I asked you all to pose me 25 questions in honour of the quarter of a century I’ve been walking this planet. Seemed like it was about time I answered some of them!

1) Ollie asked – So you’ve done the whole archaeological computing thing at uni, but you want a job in publishing. What is it about publishing that makes it take precedent over being the-geek-behind-Harrison-Ford?
Money. Mercenary but true. It’s not easy to make a living wage as the archaeo-geek – it can be done and I have friends who are doing it, but they are all much more intelligent and prettier than me. I just don’t have the burning drive you need to succeed. Plus my back and wrists are shot and getting paid a pittance to wallow around in the mud is great when you’re a student but it looses its appeal after a while… Then you have the fact I’ve been involved with archaeology since I was 16. Time for a change!

It’s hard to give the “so why publishing” answer in a short paragraph. It just fits in with my interests and it’s something I know I will be good at. On top of that, something about the publishing world just excites me. The top of my scalp gets all tingly when I think of working for Penguin (for example), which is a sure sign it’s something I should be doing. Everything I’ve done in my life that has worked out well has been accompanied by the ‘tingly scalp’ feeling and I’ve learnt to trust it.

2) Erin asked – Besides the career, which (if any) of the above questions [in the previous post] (and their implied answers) do you wish had a different answer? As in, which do you wish were a yes instead of a no?
It would be nice to have a ’significant other’ and I’d like to have a home of my own so I could decorate as I wanted, not have to worry about landlords, and have a pet cat. Other than that? I’m more than okay to just let life unfold as it will.

3) Renee asked – But what is your biggest regret since you started university?
Oooh, now they’re getting tricky. I don’t like to do big regrets (little ones I’ve got plenty of, but not biggies) but thinking about it going to Liverpool University itself (whilst it had its good points) could be a ‘regret’. I adored the university and the course, had an absolute blast, made brilliant friends, and have had doors opened up to me that I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gone to Liverpool. At the same time, I was not happy for most of the time I was there. I went there on a knee-jerk reaction after not getting into the course (veterinary science) that I wanted – looking back, it would have made more sense to take a year out, get my head together, and go somewhere else to study English.

4) Prasanth asked – What all things did you do when you were 18? I am 18 now !!
Well, I hope you enjoy being 18 more than I did! When I was 18 I was a very boring person. I never went out, I found it very hard to make friends and was… well, I was just boring!

Josh was greedy and asked a few things –
5) You wouldn’t give up your happiness for a car, house, etc. would you? (Your answer to this better be “no!”, or you shall suffer the wrath of Hobbit Vikings.)
No, I would not give up my happiness for any of the above. That being said, after being threatened with Hobbit Vikings do you think I’d say anything different?!

6) Any chance of you ever hopping the pond and visiting Ohio?
Never say never, mon cher. I’m always on the lookout for holiday destinations, so persuade me!

7) Do you have any intentions of following up on the archaeology degree, i.e. pursuing archaeology? I’m still a bit confused about the hop from Indiana to publisher (not that there’s a problem with that).
See my answer to number 1! So much of my life so far has been involved with archaeology I wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t end up back doing something related to the field in the future, but for now I think I’m going to have a bit of a break. That being said, more than a few people keep having a go at me to get back into research!

Neko also asked a couple of things –
8) Whaddya want for Christmas?
A pony.

9) Is there any one decision you have ever made that you would change?
Waiting so long before I asked for help. I was severely depressed from about the age of 15 right through to 20/21, when I finally put up my hand and went “um, something’s not right here…” Looking back I really should have said something sooner.

10) If you did, how would your life be different right now?
Hind-sight is 20/20 and I do so hate to play the “what if?” game. Even though it would be nice if that stretch of my life had been different, that’s how it was, and it’s made me who I am today, so I can’t really complain too much.

11) What does it take for you to feel you really know someone?
Erm, I’m not sure. Some people I click with really quickly, slipping straight into the comfort zone with them. Other people I’ve know for years and still wouldn’t say I really knew them. To be true, I’m actually pretty oblivious and absolutely pants at seeing beneath the surface. If someone doesn’t tell me something then I’m not going to guess it!

12) If you were a font (as in, arial etc) which would you be?
Tahoma. No reason, I just like the font.

13) Is there anything random that you are scared of? My mate Tony’s belly button scares me ’cause it is too smooth. I’m sure he is some sort of replicant.
Slugs. They freak the crap out of me. And double jointed appendages. There’s something about fingers/thumbs/elbows etc clicking where they shouldn’t be that just gives me the collywobbles.

Steve got on the bandwagon with the following –
14) If you could be anywhere, right now for 4 weeks, where would that be?
A secluded beach cottage somewhere where I could relax, sleep, and write in peace. If certain eligible bachelors were to move in down the way that might be nice too 😉

15) If you could move anywhere in the world where would you move to?
New Zealand. Or Australia. Or Canada. Or London. Or Edinburgh. Ooh, the Moon might be nice… (You might have got the impression I have no idea. You’d be right!)

16) If you were a superhero, what would be your name?
Trixabell McDuff.
Well, I’m a superhero right, so I can beat the crap out of anyone who laughs at my name.

17) Moose chimed in with – If you were on Time Team, what would you say to Tony Robinson?
… Before or after I slapped him upside the head with a two-by-four?
I have no real reason, but I find the man to be an annoying little tit. A comedic genius, but an annoying little tit none the less. I’d like to think I would have the guts to say something along the lines of “What qualifications do you have to make such sweeping generalisations? And get out of my trench you jumped up little oik!” but knowing me I’d be just too polite and content myself with grumbling under my breath.

illyna was curious enough about –
18) Have you ever told anyone you hated them. And more importantly – did you mean it?
Not to their face, no. And I can’t think of anyone who I genuinely hate. Dislike vehemently, yes. Want to see pushed under a bus? No.

19) Who would you have to play you in a movie of your life?
Maggie Gyllanhaal.

20) roro wanted to know – If you could live inside of any book you’ve ever read, which would it be?
A Georgette Heyer book (they’ve all got fairly interchangeable plots!). The dresses are gorgeous, the men spiffing, and the girl always gets the guy in the end. Supremely predictable, but enjoyable popcorn none-the-less.

Nils felt a burning desire for information on –
21) What invention haven’t they made yet that you NEED?
Something that will write my emails for me. I don’t know why, I just suck at writing emails.

22) With the creepiness quotient for dating (your age /2 +7) resulting in you being able to see anyone between about 19 and 37, would you have a preference?
I’d go for older rather than younger, and my own personal ‘creepiness quotient’ is a bit narrower – say from 20/21 to 30/31. That being said, I’ve known 20 year olds who act much older, and 40 year olds who act much younger, so it would all depend on the person I guess!

23) Seeing you had a podcast out once or twice, and since you blogged drunk, can we expect a drunk podcast? Or just a repeat of any of the two?
The chances are good that there will be some more drunk blogging before I’m done. I’d like to do some more podcasting, but I’m at a loss with what to do with the Bright Cast (any ideas greatly welcome!). Drunk Podcasting though? Most likely not. It takes far too much effort to get the computer set-up when I’m sober. I hate to think what would happen if I tried whilst drunk!

And Peroty finished off with –
24) Can you describe your perfect significant other? Or at least one you hope to find. 😉
Tall, dark, with an accent? Good sense of humour. Creative. Kind to animals. Geeky. Understanding of my taste in films and literature. Understanding of my insane desire to blog my life! Brave enough to take me on.

I’ll know him when I see him, let’s just leave it at that.

25) What little thing in life makes you happy?
Curling up with a good book and a mug of tea. Bliss.

26) Where did Moose’s name come from?
I’ll let Moose answer this in her own words –
Short answer – it’s short for Invisiblepsychomoose
Medium answer – crazy ex housemate combined with sarcastic comment about latitudes combined with Danny Wallace
Long answer – you’ll need about an hour, and something bribe Moose with.

Right, it’s the first of October, so by rights I should be asking you to step outside the RSS reader for once and look at the pink gloriousness that it is Bright Meadow…

Um, yup. Can you please avert your gaze for a little longer please?

I’ve not forgotten about going Pink for October, I just… haven’t gone yet. October has snuck up on me. It’s a sneaky little month like that. You’ve really got to keep an eye on October or else it will take you all unawares.

Anyway, enough of my sillyness. What’s this all about? It’s all about raising awareness of breast cancer by going pink, or at least talking about it.

I’m not saying I won’t be going pink, I just have to find a design that doesn’t make my eyes want to bleed (unlike last year’s effort!)

So – go pink, think pink, go to the P4O site, and keep an eye for the pink creeeeeeping in around abouts. Like October, pink is sneaky. You never know where it will show up…

I can’t find the source right now, but I did read somewhere recently that 38% of women have a secret crush on someone at work. Damn it. I finally have to admit that just once in my life, I’m following the herd. Right now I’m going to do something about it and tell everyone. Yes, I know that by plastering it over the internet it is no longer secret, but so what? The internet has played a significant part of my life so far, so why not now? Plus, by sharing it’s no longer secret, so I stop being a wooly sheep and become the kooky individual you all know and love once more.

I shall take a moment before we go any further to clarify the lingo that are used here on Bright Meadow; RLO stands for “Random Lust Object”. RLO’s by definition are random. You never know when they are going to appear and brighten up your day. By the same definition, RLO’s can never go beyond a mild “ooh, he’s rather pretty to look at…” because they never around long enough to even contemplate anything more. RLO’s are on a par with movie stars (only normally more, well, normal looking) in how they affect your daily life.

EDLO’s are where it starts to get a little sticky.

EDLO’s are “Every Day Lust Objects”. It’s all in the name.

There are degrees of crush which range from “wouldn’t push you out of the bed in the morning” all the way through to “I want to have your babies”. I am, and I must reassure all concerned here, nearer to option one than to option two but still… The presence of an EDLO makes work better and worse all at the same time. Better because it’s always nice to have something nice to look at. Worse because there really are times that a “nice personality” and a “cute hiccup” just aren’t enough to compete with leggy, blonde freshers. C’est la vie. C’est MY vie.

It’s one thing to flirt mildly with an RLO because – hello, random! When you have the self esteem of a battered slug ^* it’s quite another to even engage an EDLO in normal conversation. Plus I’m about as transparent as cling-film or something else that is very transparent. Glass maybe? Just once in my life I’d like to be enigmatic. Channel some of that Audrey Hepburn nonchalance.

Neh, I’m not thin enough to pull off Audrey Hepburn. But you know what I’m shooting at, right?

I know exactly what I’m doing here. I’m shooting for the moon because I know it will never happen. It’s so much easier to talk about the life I would like to live rather than to actually live the life. And as I’ve said a time or three, it’s nice to look and to dream 😉

So yes, I’ve been cursed/blessed with an EDLO at work. It makes for great conversations down the pub of an evening – all my friends berating me (yet again) and telling me what I should be doing, me trotting out all the same tired old excuses I’ve been trotting out for the past decade. It makes for great blogging material. It makes for damn hard wardrobe choices in the morning.

I shall end this by asking the following: why the frack do I always look my absolute worst when he walks in in the morning looking absolutely scrumptious in those battered jeans?

Just asking.

^* Why a battered slug? No reason, I just think that a battered slug would have low self esteem.

As Cas mentioned, we hosted a little dinner party on Saturday. Since then Illyna has been pestering me (well she asked twice anyway) for the recipe for the soup. A friend of mine gave me this recipe while she was living in Japan. She claimed it had no proper name and called it soba soup. We also nicknamed it ‘murder by mochi’ as apparently it causes several deaths each year, when elderly people get large chunks of mochi stuck in their throats.

Soba soup
portion of soba noodles per person
5-7 parts dashi stock
2 parts soy sauce
1 part mirin
pinch of red pepper spice
toppings (chopped) – spring onions, boiled egg, spinach
mochi

1. Boil the soba as per packet instructions. If using egg as a topping the eggs can be boiled in the same saucepan with the soba.
2. Drain the soba and plunge into a bowl of cold water.
3. Fry the mochi in medium size pieces until brown on both sides.
4. Make the dashi stock.
5. Mix the dashi, soy sauce, mirin and red pepper spice together and bring to the boil.
6. Drain and add the soba, bring back to the boil.
7. Chop the toppings.
8. Divide the soba and mochi between individual bowls, pour over stock and add one or more toppings.

Dashi – seafood stock, can sometimes find it in asian supermarkets. If you can’t find it use vegetable or chicken stock and add a dash or two of Thai fish sauce (nam pla).
Mirin – sweet rice wine, can get it in Waitrose or asian supermarkets.
Red pepper spice – I’m not entirely sure what this is as my friend brought it with her. It adds a little extra heat and spiceyness to the soup, so I’m pretty sure you’ll get the same effect with a pinch of crushed chilli flakes.
Mochi – odd, glutinous Japanese rice cake that’s very sticky and difficult to chew. Cas liked it, but I’m not a fan. It can be found in asian supermarkets.

Okay, that’s the basic recipe. I usually leave out the mochi as I can’t always find it here, and as I said, I’m not a fan. It works just as well without. You may need to replace some of the ingredients with British versions and some of the amounts are a little vague, but it’s the kind of recipe where that really doesn’t matter.

Is it a genuine Japanese recipe? Who knows. Tastey though.

I turned twenty five yesterday. Eek. Twenty Five years I’ve been walking this here earth. In one way it seems like a scary large number – quarter of the way through a century and all that. In another way, it feels like barely any time at all. Inside, I don’t feel like I think a twenty five year old should feel, you know what I mean? I’m not all grown-up and responsible. I’m pretty much still living like I did when I was a student (good times 😉 )

I don’t have a ‘significant other’, though that’s not for want of dreaming
I don’t have any dependents; I can’t even keep a goldfish alive!
I don’t have any major assets to my name; no house, no car, no secret hoard of cash
I don’t have a high-flying career
I don’t, if I’m truthful, have much of a life plan other than “London + Publishing ( + dare I say it? Penguin) = Happy Cas” and hell if have any ideas of how to get that plan to reality.

I do, however, have a life I’m enjoying living. That’s actually something I wasn’t sure I’d find a few years back. Most days I go around with a smile on my face from ear to ear, joy in my soul, and knowing that I honestly wouldn’t change a thing about my life as it stands right now. I haven’t got it all sorted out (see the previous paragraph!) but that’s cool with me. Things have a way of sorting themselves out and I’m having good times watching them unfold. So go me and roll on whatever this year has to offer 🙂

But that’s enough about what I think about being twenty five. It’s time you all had a say. I’ve been writing here at Bright Meadow for a good while now, and over the years I’ve shared a fair few things with you, my dear readers. But I’m sure there’s questions you want to ask and things you wish you knew.

Here’s your chance.
I’ll answer the first twenty five questions that get sent in to me, regardless of what they are.

What do you have to do? Simply email me your questions to cas.brightmeadow[at]gmail.com and wait for the post that will follow.

A caveat:
You can ask as many questions as you like. However, if I end up with more than twenty five questions, (no, I have no contingency plan for if I get LESS than 25 questions!) I will take the best question(s) from each person so as many as possible get one of their burning queries answered.

And that’s it. Now it’s over to you to think of the best/most zany questions you can think of. Try to make it something that hasn’t already been talked about. Also please bear in mind that my father, occasionally my brother, and even my boss read the site. I’m all for public humiliation, but let’s try and keep it vaguely decent, please? (Or if not, be prepared for me to fudge my replies some 😉 )

So bring it on!

I think it is time I told you the tale of me and Optimus Prime. Mother Dearest is convinced that I made this story up to guilt the Crazy Canalman into buying me the above model robot. I didn’t. The following is a true recounting of events as remembered by three year old me.

To fully appreciate the story I am about to tell you, I think it helps if you understand the dynamic of my family. I’ve said it before and I expect I will say it again: my family are more than a little screwball. I think all families are more than a little odd to outsiders, but put my odd against your odd, and I’m pretty certain I’ve got the script for a good drama (or comedy). And I love it. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without my gloriously wonderful family. But, as I pointed out, we are a little strange. And strange doesn’t always lead to a quiet life. My brother is three years older than me and for once Chinese astrology has it right when they say a three year gap is the worst for opposing birth signs. My Dog and his Sheep… cat and dog had nothing on us growing up. Everything he did, I had to do bigger and better (and usually failed at). At the same time, he was my big brother and I worshipped him, even when he planted me in the vegetable patch to make me grow taller!

So when he got sick with tonsillitis on his seventh birthday, it was a big thing. Even though I was just three at the time, I remember that he wasn’t there and that Mum and Dad were worried.

I also have very vivid memories of being dragged around what felt like every single toy store in the South of England trying to find a fracking Optimus Prime robot. This was at the peak of the Transformers craze so, like every craze in the known universe, these toys were hard to find. Brother Dearest, like pretty much every other seven year old boy at this time wanted a Transformers toy. Mum and Dad wanted to make him feel better because he was in hospital over his birthday…

Poor little me had to go along on the shopping trip.

Mum claims there is no way I can remember all of this. I can. Going into a gazillion toy stores and not getting anything yourself has a tendency to stick in your brain when you’re a kid. We found the Optimus Prime toy eventually. I want to say in the ten thousandth store – it was probably more like the fifth or sixth. And Brother Dearest got his second birthday wish (his first being not to have his tonsils out – sadly, the doctors didn’t let him have his way on that one).

What did I get?

Zip. Nada. Not even the jelly left on Brother Dearest’s dinner tray, because I am allergic 🙁

Yes. Feel sorry for me!

To make matters worse – I never got to play with Optimus Prime. The most I got was to sit quietly in the corner whilst Brother Dearest transformed him into a juggernaut and back into a robot.

The memory stuck with me, as you might have gathered.

Fast forward twenty two years. It is the summer of Transformers once more and I was having a chat with the Crazy Canalman down the pub one lunchtime and out pours the whole sorry saga. (Moose, on hearing it I might add, had hysterics she found it so funny). I thought nothing of it, other than as a funny childhood memory. I have very few memories of when I was really young courtesy, I think, of putting my head through the caravan step when I was three – so it’s surprising how vivid this one memory is.

The Crazy Canalman, it turns out, was stricken with guilt that he so neglected his youngest child. A few weeks later I am the proud owner of an Optimus Prime robot all of my very own (and my mother is looking at the credit card bill in disbelief, but that’s another story). I love my Optimus Prime. Not because he can transform into a juggernaut and back, though he can (or so the instructions reliably inform me – after an hour both Moose and myself gave up. Clearly we’re far too intelligent). Not because he spouts out five different phrases from his stand, though he does. And not because he has opposable fingers, though he does. But because he’s mine and I have one when my brother no longer does. His went to charity an age ago – mine is sitting in my living room right now. And when Brother Dearest comes to visit and asks to play with it (because he will, nostalgia is a powerful thing), I can say no and make HIM sit quietly whilst I (attempt) to turn it into a juggernaut and back.

I’m sorry parents of siblings out there – sibling rivalry never dies. We just get more petty as we get older and can afford more expensive toys of our own.

Now if you will excuse me, I am off to play with my Optimus Prime some more. He has three different sorts of weapons and the Matrix of Leadership… I know I am 25 in a week, but I think it’s healthy to be in touch with your inner child geek 😉

OK, so it’s just me going on a summer holiday, but I got to sing the song in my head and that’s all that matters 😛

Once again it’s time for me to bid you all adieu for a little while. At least this time it’s not because I dying of some mysterious mojo-sapping lurgy

When I tell you that this is the first proper holiday I will have had since 2001, I hope you will appreciate how much I am relishing the prospect of two whole weeks where I don’t have to work, or study, or do anything other than things that amuse me. The first couple of days I am going back to the Homestead to spend time with the Triffid Tamer (my lovely Mum) then I am off to Guernsey for a week.

This all has the glorious side effect of making me internet-less for all of that time. Partly I have no choice in the matter: the places I am going have no internet access (the Homestead is still on dial-up and that is just too painful to count and who knows what the hotel has to offer). But even if the places I was going did have internet access, I wouldn’t use it. I want two weeks where I am not chained to my inbox, blog, and a gazillion other websites. I want two weeks of unhooked peace and quiet where I can wash the stress from my job out of my brain, unkink my back from the horrors of my office chair, and maybe even get some writing done.

Yes, writing. Not blog writing, not short story writing, but a full on, mulit-thousand-word book/novel/fiction-piece which I have had brewing in my head for years now. I have had this entire world, sitting there, populated with people who want me to tell their stories, but I just haven’t had the umph to do anything more than write snippets and glimpses here and there. Finally I think I’ve got to the place where I’m capable of doing them justice on the page.

I at least owe it to them to try.

You see, I have this ambivalent attitude towards writing. I love it and do it constantly, even when it’s just in my head. At the same time it bugs me and haunts me. I need space and a relatively awake brain to write well. Writing whilst stressed I can just about manage after a fashion, but writing whilst exhausted I can’t. Work being what it is, I’ve been averaging 40 hour weeks for the past ten months, and they’ve all be frantic and stressed 40 hour weeks to boot. Yes, I know that it could be a lot worse and I’m not complaining. There is no way you could say I was bored in my job and that’s a wonderful thing to be able to say, but it does mean that when I get home I barely have the mental energy to make a cup of tea, boil some pasta and collapse in front of SG:1, let alone write the next great Sci-Fi/Fantasy trilogy. *

So I’m taking two weeks to go into full hermit mode – just me, (hopefully) good weather, a quiet beach, a pile of notebooks, and the PocketCalculator. At the end of it I want to have something approaching at least a first draft, but I’m not kidding myself. It’s been seven years to get this far, I don’t think two weeks is going to make that much difference. But it will be nice to give it a go.

Whilst I’m gone, things are understandably going to go a bit quiet around the place. I’ve asked Neko and Moose to keep an eye on things, rescue comments from moderation, kill the spam and things like that. They may guest-post, they may not. It depends if inspiration strikes them, though both have said they will do a Sunday Roast to keep things ticking over.

I do also thoroughly recommend that you keep an eye on Tumbleweeds as I will be twittering on occasion, and that compiles them all into a pretty, readable format.

I will be back in Meadow Towers and firmly jacked in to my virtual existence on the 31st of August.

Till then, Tally Ho, Pip Pip and Bob’s your uncle 🙂

Endnotes:
Don’t worry, it’s not a trilogy. I have this distaste for everything being in trilogies – just because it’s a genre book, it does NOT mean it has to fit into three, damn it!