Below are the 9 most recent journal entries recorded in cardboard_giles' LiveJournal:

Saturday, October 5th, 2002
7:02 am	Just what I needed Can't manage to sleep in this morning. Too frustrated. Got back last night from another trip to Devon to find a slim letter postmarked Sunnydale on the doormat. It was from Anya. "Ah," I thought, "more news on our insurance claim." She's resigned. Bloody hell! I can't do without her in Sunnydale. And she didn't even have the politeness to teleport over here and tell me in person. So I rang her. "I have to resign," she said. "D'Hoffryn's complaining. He says I can't have a human job and a demon one at the same time." "Then quit the vengeance job. You can't desert me now, Anya." "Anyanka," she emphasised. "Please know that I did consider it briefly. But D'Hoffryn's fringe benefits package is much more enticing." "Well, yes," I said. "I can manage forged social security numbers but not, alas, immortality." "And D'Hoffryn always notices when I change my hair colour," she sniffed. "You look lovely as a blonde," I said, with increasing desperation. "I'm a brunette now." "But Anya... Anyanka... you loved working at the shop. It brought out the best in you. And , and... the money. You really liked the money." "What do I need money for now?" she asked. "I only wanted it because then Xander and I could buy a house and a dog and a car and maybe a small boat but still make substantial retirement savings which I'll never need now because I'll never grow old and Xander will never grow up and THERE WAS NO WEDDING!" Then she hung up. So now I either have to find a new business partner in California or I have to sell what remains of the shop. I can just see the advertisement: "The Magic Box: three deceased owners and one extremely concussed one. Going cheap." And I haven't even mentioned the absolute joy that my week wasn't: maybe I'll get to that after the plumber arrives. Current Mood: pessimistic (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, September 27th, 2002
1:23 am	More useless forebodings Witches. Naked witches. Naked witches vomiting in the middle of the community centre while they all shout, "Dark! Deep! Dark! Evil!" or somesuch. Just what I needed. Dave and I arrived at the centre sometime around 10pm to help out with chairs. Tea and scones were laid on at 11 (still miss the coffee and donuts) and the ceremony was for midnight, naturally enough. Willow wasn't there, as they were a bit worried she'd act as some mystical short-circuit. Dave wasn't participating directly either---he'd put his back out one particularly unpleasant year (lead up to the US elections, he said). So he and I just stood about in case anything was needed. Buckets. Mops. That's what were needed. "Ah, is that a bad sign?" I asked, as the first one began barfing. "God yes," said Dave. "Haven't seen anything like that since Reagan." Jo was still looking nauseous the next day. "Not much realigning," she said, "but terrible, terrible portents." "Of?" I prompted. She couldn't say. "But it's bad. Deep, dark, underground, connected." Speaking of connections, I couldn't get on a computer at all yesterday, what with all the wiccans having a desperate need to email news of vague threat across the planet. Willow was also suffering from bad vibe syndrome when I saw her today. But she's looking better. She even smiled at one of my jokes. Thought about ringing Buffy and warning her of the portents, but unless the coven can give me any specifics, all I'll be doing is worrying her for no good reason. Drove home late tonight. Only really just go in. There's a pile of mail on the doorstep and my answering machine's flashing, but it will just to wait for tomorrow. The end of the world will have to wait until morning. Goodnight. Current Mood: exhausted (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 24th, 2002
6:23 pm	Realignment Day Despite several near death experiences, I did in fact make it down OK yesterday. Much to my surprise, I found I was running only an hour late by the time I made it to Jo and Dave's, who are putting me up while I'm down here. They showed me up to this little attic room---it's all quite pretty. The room has a skylight and I swear that if I stand on a chair and look out of it then I can make out the sea. Had a bite to eat there and then went 'round for a briefing on the Willow Situation, held at the house of one of the senior witches. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon filling out insurance forms (again---they are the bane of my existence) as the wiccans organised my medical coverage during my last trip to California. Dinner was all very jolly but a bit of a disappointment in that I'd forgotten that they were all vegan. Had no idea what the lasagna's white sauce was made of. I had to sneak out for a pie on my way back to Jo and Dave's. Slept well, but woken at 7am by Jo, clad only in a bathrobe, shouting,"It's today! It's today!" Hadn't the foggiest what she was on about. Her birthday? World War III? "The day of realignment! The augerers just rang. Quick, we have to get everything ready!" A very groggy-looking Dave explained when I got down to the kitchen, while Jo dashed in and out of the house, carrying and chopping magical herbs from the garden. Apparently the "day of realignment" is an annual event during which many minor matters shift subtly to take on a shape pleasing to the Powers That Be. So the coven spends the day doing mystical chants to distance themselves from the magical movements. It's a temporary distancing, but it's the only way they can observe what changes are being made. Apparently, they managed to infer the creation of Dawn from such shifts in magical current a couple of years ago. It turned out that the only useful thing I could do was...nothing. Just hang around and provide them with a handy conduit so they can more easily monitor the Hellmouth. Everyone else, of course, had three dozen things to do all at once, so I just went for a bit of a walk. I bought a notebook in town and started work on the Revised Slayer's handbook. Thought I'd start on one of the easier chapters: "Advice for Slayers Dating". Wrote "Don't". I should check the precise wording with Buffy, I think. Well, I'm heading off for dinner now (at a local restaurant---the coven seems to be too busy to eat today, or maybe they're actually fasting). Then I'll be at the local community centre, where the Realignment Day ceremonies are being held. I'm told anything might happen. And if I wake up tomorrow in Sunnydale then I'm not to be surprised as it's All Part of the Plan. At least then I'll get a decent shower. Current Mood: anticipatory (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, September 23rd, 2002
11:24 am	Devonwards That's it! I've had it! I'm going to ask Anya if I can learn to teleport. Willing to become a Vengeance Demon if necessary. I will be the Vengeance Demon of Scorned Motorists and people who get cut off when they need to change lanes. I shall avenge the tailgated and wreak wrath on road hogs! Or something like that. Anything to avoid another trip up that blasted motorway. Haven't time for a proper post today. See you tomorrow. Current Mood: angry (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, September 22nd, 2002
9:44 pm	A lazy Sunday Slept very late and then had to unpack our nest in the living room. The bedroom didn't smell of squashed demon anymore, so back the mattress went, although I have to say we had been quite cozy in the front room like that. Had brunch just off the High Street, then went for a drive. Walked through some woodlands to find one of the old Roman sites, but couldn't find anything of demonic interest. Olivia kept saying, "But Rupert, look at the view!" Definite autumnal nip in the air---got quite chilly at times. Olivia drove home around four. I read for a while, fiction for once, but couldn't really get into it. Too busy thinking over something Olivia had said earlier. I'd had the scrolls out on my desk in the living room, and I thought it better to put them away while we were "camping" there. She asked about them and I'd explained that they were prophecy scrolls, allegedly infallible, somewhat cryptic but still worth translating... "Why?" she asked. "Does that help?" At the time I assured her it was of vital importance, but I probably didn't sound that convincing, probably because I was trying to convince myself. I mean, since when has any prophecy been of any actual use to Buffy or myself? They've panicked us, yes, perplexed us, worried us and misled us, but helped? Perhaps I'm just tired tonight but I can't seem to recall a single occasion where they were of any actual use. Really, the translation work has just been a way of easing myself back into scholarliness after the distractions of the past summer (note: must contact Willow). It's probably time just to discard the scrolls as a bad job and decide on a real project. Two come to mind: a completely new edition of the Slayer's Handbook, one that might actually be of some use; or some sort of definitive encyclopedia of demons and the uncanny. I suppose I'm in a better position to write the first. Some possible titles: Slayers---You Only Live Thrice by Rupert Giles Caring and Feeding Your Slayer by Rupert Giles Slaying for Dummies and People You Only Mistake for Dummies Initially Because They Want to Try Out for the Cheerleading Squad by Rupert Giles Bloody Irritating Americans: A User's Guide by Rupert Giles Includes chapters on: "Weapons Through the Ages: the Stick" "How to Win Friends and Influence Them so That they Don't Go All Evil When You're Not Paying Attention" "Vampires Are Evil, Yes All of Them, Especially the Handsome Ones" "Nice Demons: The Parable of Clem" More as I think of them. Anyway, must go and pack now as I'm off to Devon tomorrow. Might not be able to post tomorrow night while I'm down there. Current Mood: busy (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, September 21st, 2002
9:23 pm	Could have been worse Wesley! That $%^&! Wesley! Rang up just as Olivia and I were---well, at a most inconvenient time. Threw the phone across the room, then leapt out of the bed after it to swear at him in as many demonic languages as possible. Accidentally summoned a Hibbert demon while doing so, but Olivia squashed it with her boot---I expect she's becoming quite used to this. Then she took the phone from me and went to sit in the living room, wrapped in the quilt. She chewed Wesley's ear off while I made us a pot of tea. By then it sounded as if Wesley was a little less drunk, because Olivia was managing to have an actual conversation with him. "Who's this bloke Fred?" she asked me. I said I hadn't a clue. Their conversation went on for quite a while so I went and grilled some cheese-on-toast. Ate masses at the Indian place, but I always get hungry if I'm up very late at night. And no 24-hour donut shops in Bath that I know of. Olivia hung up eventually. I remarked on her patience. "My brother went through all that a few years ago," she said, "up in Manchester." We had to camp out in the living room, as the squashed Hibbert demon was stinking out the bedroom. I took it out to the skip while Olivia dragged the mattress through. It was 3am. "I'm so sorry," I said, but she just shook her head and burst into laughter. "And my mum tells me my life is weird." We were too tired after that to do anything but sleep. Made up for it during the day, though. Or at least until the coven in Devonshire rang. "Ah," I said. "Yes, sudden emergency here---I'll be down on Monday. No, not that sort of emergency. World not ending. Ah---plumbing emergency, yes," while Olivia tried not to laugh. A very pleasant day after all. Current Mood: satisfied (Comment on this)
Friday, September 20th, 2002
11:58 pm	Women Research project, my arse! Met Lydia for lunch today at the pub. She had all these folders of research proposal materials and budget estimates for me to advise her on, but all she really wanted to talk about was that sod Spike. Bloody hell. Is no female safe from his dubious charms? (well, possibly Willow, but I think the jury's still out on that one). I mean, I sort of understood it in Sunnydale, where he is at least exotic, but here? Lydia lives in an entire country full of laddish would-be Lotharios. Why doesn't she chase one of them? I suppose she can't get the funding. And the Council does have a habit of hiring members of Sexually Repressed Anonymous (no phone calls from Wesley the last couple of nights, thank God). I tried to salvage the meeting a little by exerting my own laddish charms. I'm younger than he is, by God! I've seduced beautiful Sunnydale women myself. Also, I knew the beer would go on Lydia's expense account, so I became increasingly flirtatious as the afternoon wore on. And she didn't notice! It was as if I didn't exist! It was all, "And do you think he's shown signs of moral development since the chip implantation?" and "Has it affected his dress sense?" (I swear to God she asked that). Wound up rather depressed. Staggered home to find Olivia on my doorstep, looking rather pissed (in the American sense). She quickly noticed that I was pissed in the good, old-fashioned British way. "I said I was going to leave early to avoid the Friday night traffic," she said. "Had you forgotten?" Yes. No. That is, I'd remembered right up until the point where I forgot all about it in the pub. Sod it. We went out for dinner. As the courses wore on her mood gradually improved. Stopped by the video store to pick something up, but argued about what to watch for an hour and so eventually came home without one. Realised I'd forgotten to ring the coven again and they're expecting me tomorrow. Ah, Olivia's just come out of the shower. Must stop writing now. Current Mood: relaxed (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, September 19th, 2002
11:30 pm	At a bit of a loose end At a bit of a loose end today, what with Olivia not being here. Didn't really feel like working on the scrolls, so I went for a run this morning. Came home and showered, but the plumbing seems to be acting up again. I'll have to get it looked into. I really got too used to American plumbing in California. Fetched some shopping in and got home in time for lunch. Found that another fat envelope from Anya had arrived while I was out. We're still having trouble with the Magic Box insurers. Really, I'd sign up with anyone else if we could, but there's only the one firm left selling property cover in Sunnydale. Charge an arm and a leg, these people. Still, it looks like we're winning. They haven't been able to prove insurance fraud so they've just been dragging their feet over the payments instead. Judging from the letters she's forwarded, we're now on to our third agent. The others have gone on stress leave---hah! Must say I enjoy having an Attack Anya to sic on them. I really couldn't ask for a better business partner in these circumstances. Apparently she brought them four boxes of indexed receipts and then camped out in their waiting room complaining loudly and then bursting into tears until they did what she wanted. She's still talking about engaging an actual lawyer. Not sure I'm keen on this---lawyers are usually much more trouble than they're worth. But she's sent me some brochures from "Wolfram and Hart" anyway. She says they've done sterling work for D'Hoffryn. Cooked myself a proper dinner tonight, the first this week. Pasta. Went down to the pub afterwards, as I'm trying to make myself look like a regular. Had some desultory chat about Shrub and Saddam and the quality of Sainsbury's fishfingers. Got home and realised that my answering machine must have been blinking since about 10am. It was that woman from the Council, Dr Lydia Whosiwhatsit, asking if she could meet tomorrow about some research project. Tempted to say no---she was part of the group that threatened my green card a while back---but I have to have at least a grudging respect for a woman who's made it up in the Watcher hierarchy without sleeping with anyone. Or at least, she's unlikely to have slept with Quentin. Dammit. Forgot to ring the coven. Will have to do that tomorrow now. Current Mood: blah (Comment on this)
Wednesday, September 18th, 2002
10:33 pm	Bother Did some good work on some prophecy scrolls this morning. Tried out some new tea---not sure I liked it. Went out for a bite of lunch. Wrote to Riley. Now that Buffy's passed on his address, perhaps I can find out where the dickens they've put Ethan. England just not the same without him. Was just starting on another cup of tea when Olivia rang to say that she couldn't make it down here after all---her car's broken down.Told her to take the train, but now she wants to put off visiting until the weekend. Bother. I was supposed to be down in Devon by then.Cancelled the reservation at the Indian place and ate an unexpectedly lonely dinner down at the chippy. Went home for cuppa and digestives. I really must start eating better. Wesley rang again. His words were so slurred that I could barely make out anything he said. Told him he had the emotional maturity of a gin-soaked scone. He wasn't amused---good. Doesn't he realise that 8pm in California is 4am here? Maybe I should change my number. Probably wouldn't help. I think he got mine from someone in the Council---I certainly didn't give it to him. Another unsigned postcard from Africa. Who the buggery keeps sending those? Current Mood: irritated Current Music: Tales of Brave Ulysses (3 Comments |Comment on this)