Getting used to new flatmate, part 2

Strange men in lounge are now conscious again.

One walked into the kitchen, while I was taking my fresh bread out of the breadmaker (domestic, moi?!) and I recognised him as one of Sam's friends.

Then his older brother walked in.

The man is a God. I was almost speechless.

And there I am, wearing running pants that are falling to bits, and a black jumper with more bobbles on it than a bobbly thing. Such a good look . . .

The good thing is, he is the brother of one of Sam's best friends. Now, how can I get him to come back?!

PS. A half naked man has just walked across the hallway as I sit here typing. I guess not all the guests have gone just yet . . . .

Getting used to new flatmate, part 1

I have just woken up, to find men in various stages of unconsciousness draped across the sofas in the sitting room.

I have bought my breakfast back to bed. It is 07:45, and I really don't think they will be coming round any time soon.

Inappropriate things to say in front of children #1

This evening, myself and a friend went up to Alexandra Palace to watch the big fireworks show.

It was a pleasant evening, full of buying strange glowy things to loop round heads, hotdogs and beefburgers that you need to take a mortgage out for, and lots of people . . . oh, the number of people.

So Jen and I bagged a spot on the steps of the BBC Reception area - a perfect spot, where we could see over the heads of the hundreds of people in front of us, rest our backsides on the wall behind us and put our bags on the handily located windowsill.

Being a popular spot, various children and adults congregated on the steps in front of us, and I like to think were looking at us enviously in our prime firework observing spot.

The fireworks were fantastic, as they always seem to be up there. All done to classical music this year, and we were treated to various choons such as Romeo & Juliet, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, the theme from Pirates of the Caribbean, the Flower Duet from Lakme (the BA theme sung by two women), and finishing off with a couple of bits from Carmen.

As the music crescendo'd into "Toreador" from Carmen (see, I know my choons!), Jen leant over to me and said "It'll be the BIG fuckers now!!!" . . . Quite loudly. In front of little children.

Oooops.

Goodbye to the old, hello to the new

I am feeling a little sad. Lucy moved out last night, and in with her fiance. I suppose we couldn't be flatmates forever, but I did feel a little woeful. We have shared two abodes for more than two years.

And now she has to go and live with a boy.

I now have to get used to a new flatmate (something new to me, as I have always shared with people I already knew). Sam is younger than me - eight years younger, to be precise, and from The North. She is very tiny (less than five foot), blonde, and seems to be very sweet.

I'm broody . . .

. . . for a baby.

Not the sort of baby you think (well, yes actually - but that's been going on for years, and if that happened at the minute, they'd have to write an extra chapter for the Bible . . . ).

I'm broody for a puppy. Namely, an English Cocker Spaniel puppy.

A little bundle of fluff that's something like this.



I'm obsessed. I've wanted one for years, and it's never waned. I must look like a nutter in the street when I spot a spaniel, as I gaze wistfully after their little waggy tushes.

I know. It's pathetic.

And the sad thing is that I couldn't even have one if I wanted. Current financial situations mean that although I live reasonably comfortably, I cannot afford a dog walker to come and walk my pup halfway through the day, as it is cruel to leave them for a whole day without any company. And currently, I also live in a flat with no garden. Wouldn't that make housetraining a joyful experience?!

However, in two years, I will be able to have both.

Two years. That's not that long, is it?

Stuff of nightmares . . .

Quite frankly, I find those Triple Velvet "Love Your Bum" toilet paper adverts disturbing.

You must have seen them - the one where the boss of a factory is a baby. Wandering around in a suit, looking like a miniscule 80 year old, saying (out of sync) "This is the stuff dreams are made of".

It's just wrong. It's probably meant to be cute, but I find it plain repellant.

Which shows just how wrong it is - I love babies!

I think it would make a fantastic villain in something like Doctor Who though . . .

Harry - the final chapter (Spoilers within!)

Well, I finished it.

I am known for being a fast reader, but I managed to eak out the first third of the book by reading a chapter a day for the first 10 days. Then on Tuesday night, I started reading as normal . . . and couldn't put it down. I finished it at 1.00 in the morning.

Well, what a read. Quite possibly my favourite one out of the series (that position was previously held by Prisoner of Azkaban).

I found it heart wrenching in places - when Dobby died I had a few tears in my eyes, especially when Harry was dressing him so carefully in clothes. However, I was most affected by Harry's walk to Voldemort with the Resurrection Stone. Those simple childish words "Does it hurt?" - had to wipe my eyes somewhat at that point. Maybe it's partly because I have lost my own mother, but I think the majority of people would have been moved by his mum telling him how brave he was being as his parents walked side by side with him to his inevitable death.

And then its glorious conclusion with Harry and You-Know-Who. Unexpected for me at least - I never thought that Harry would die, but never foresaw that finale. I thought there was definite Christian overtones in it as well, in a The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe kind of way. It will be interesting to see what the anti-Harry Potter Christian fraternity make of it.

But yes, I loved it. Its threads of relationship, family, trust, love, loyalty and self-sacrifice for "the Greater Good" are, I think, refreshing subjects to read about - especially in children's literature.

The only gripe I had was the epilogue - I read the last three words, turned over the page and went "Is that it? . . . . ."

Specialis Revelio!

It's arrived at last! And I promise . . . no spoilers here.

And hence will begin a weekend of not moving whilst I devour the last Harry Potter offering. Turning myself occasionally to prevent sofa sores.

And not before time too, I might add - there seems to be a hoarde of people out there, determined to try and ruin it for everyone. You can't move for spoilers! No more though - the time has come for me to find out for myself!

This time though I will try not to injure myself. When I got Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I sat for hours on my bed, cross legged with the book in my lap. When I sat up straight, something in my back gave way. After managing to stand up, I fainted. I won't be repeating that one . . . .

Feel the Pinkness!

OK, I have a little confession to make.

I know I bought a new plasma recently. And that was very extravagent.

But I have bought one more small gadget. I promise, it is small. And I did get a bonus last week.

So I bought something. Something shiny. Something pink. Something FUN!

Have you guessed what it is yet?

Yay - it's a Nintendo DS Lite! In PINK!



I love it. I am being sensible and buying (a couple of) games on eBay as it quite frankly is shocking how much those little cartridges are in "normal" shops. And my gorgeous Filofax, which is getting used every single day by the way, has come in very useful in listing the vast number of games I want to play, so I can cross them off as I find them for an absolute bargain on fleaBay. And it told me today on More Brain Training, that my brain is 28 years old! Impressive, considering yesterday it was 49 . . .

However, the pronounced girliness in me has espied this. A DS Lite that has been dropped into a vat of Swarovski crystals.



Now, this is a little excessive, even for me. But I crave a little sparkliness for my DS Lite. Just a crystal butterflly, or heart, tastefully done of course.

Any suggestions on design ideas?

And any suggestions on good games?!

PS. You wouldn't be getting the impression that I like gadgets? And girly things? Especially when said gadgets look girlie. Would you??!!

Right, this has gone far enough!

In my new, back to paper efforts, I am now eyeing up fountain pens for my Filofax. Two fountain pens. The cheaper one is a Waterman Harmonie in Cashmere Beige, at about £40, with a solid silver nib and silver accents. And a perfect match for the inner soft beige suede-y stuff in my Filofax.


The other one I have been lusting after is the Parker Sonnet in Verdigris, with an 18ct Gold, Rhodium Plated nib!! That's correct, a solid gold nib. If I got bored with the pen, I could melt its nib down for a nice pair of earrings perhaps? Multifunctional . . .

. . . and this retails at an approximate, cool £100. Much as I love its green shimmery inner glow (which would match the greeny outer cover of my Filofax), I cannot justify spending this much on a fountain pen. Even if I can get it for £50 off eBay. I have important things like Xbox 360's to save up for.

So I am sticking with the Harmonie, which I have seen for a titchy £25 off eBay. If I buy it, I will post pictures of it in all its creamy fabulousness.

Fountain pens seem to be remarkably popular still - there's a whole forum of users (sounds like a drug habit) over at the Fountain Pen Network!

Now I just have to decide what colour ink I want. Hmm - Black? Blue? Blue-black? Redgreenbrown, VIOLET! Sigh . . . too many decisions.

What a Beautiful Person . . .

. . . that Charley from Big Brother is.

Especially when she calls other people "Two faced weirdo's".

Arrange these words in the right order.

POT
KETTLE
BLACK
THE
CALLING

Sorry, I won't mention Big Brother again. Consider my wrist slapped.

Thumbs up to Filofax . . .

. . . for their fantastic customer service!

When I was browsing the Filofax web site, I noticed that the organiser that I have bought this week (the Eden Personal Filofax) was meant to have a coloured subject index, A-Z index and ruled paper, all in shades of blue, green and brown to match the colour scheme of the binder.

As you can see in the photo in the previous post, mine has a cream index (not subject, but numbered 1-6), a cream A-Z index and white ruled paper. I have also noticed that all the ones I have seen in Paperchase (where mine was purchased from) and WH Smith were the same as mine.

So, I decided to email Filofax directly to ask them if I can find the coloured indexes anywhere - being a visually orientated kind of girlie, I like things to match!

Result is that I had an apologetic email back within an hour, asking for my full postal address so they can send me the correct "fill" for my Fax!

Other news regarding my new purchase - I have become pleasantly obsessed with finding the best "system". I now have five coloured pens in my bag, so I can colour code my diary entries. I have four different To Do lists. Now all I need is a Telephone list so I can transcribe all the numbers in my mobile phone, without having to use up a whole address box, one per address tab so they can still be alphabetical.

Don't worry, I do have a life . . . .

Choosing traditional over gadgetry . . .

In an attempt to try and become an organised grown up, I made a purchase today.

What could it be?

Smartphone?
PDA?
New laptop?

No . . . for a change (as I do love my gadgets), I have gone down the traditional route and bought . . .


. . . . a Filofax!

A very pretty Filofax, in sage green and with pretty patterns on.

I decided I wanted to go back to pen and paper basics - there is something inherently satisfying about writing information down, particularly in this day and age, when it is all about tapping on keyboards, or mobile phone keypads, or bashing small screens with stylii.

I have even come across a very interesting blog, chronicling the writer's relationship with his Filofax, called Philofaxy. Bring on the Filofax Revolution!

As of the current time, my new toy is looking rather empty. However, Philofaxy has a fantastic term for what I have been doing today - Planner Grazing. Going through it and trying to fill in as much as I can on its pristine white pages. However, it is looking a bit sad and blank at the moment but I am sure it will soon fill up. I did remember with great fondness today my mothers Filofax which was almost round in shape and used to literally burst forth, every time you opened it!

I have to admit, there were some leather ones that I liked. However, at up to six times the price, I thought I would test it for a year - if I am still using it voraciously this time next year, I might invest in one of the sexy leather ones.

However, that hasn't stopped me buying a few bits and pieces for it . . . tube map, pretty coloured paper, extra to-do lists, Jot Pads (the orange "salmon" thing you can see on the left hand side where you can jot notes and then stick 'em in where you want) and a financial tracker.

So yes, now I feel very grown-up and organised . . .

The big, hulking, sexy, glossy black lump of 42" Samsung plasma has arrived . . .

. . . and it is beeyootiful.

Nuff said.

Big girls toys . . .

I am practically salivating with excitement. I feel like a small child at Christmas.

Why?

I am awaiting delivery of this gorgeous little thing . . .

Actually, not so little. More of a big, hulking, sexy, glossy black lump of 42" Samsung plasma. I can't wait!

Even more wonderful is that it more or less coincides with the release of Tomb Raider: Anniversary which is already on order! Particularly wonderful for me, who never played the original Tomb Raider, so this is a whole new world for me to explore. Although, for the ones who did play the first Tomb Raider, they have added some new puzzles.

I can almost hear the indrawn gasps of breath now. "A girl? Who likes gaming?! How odd!!". Well maybe not, but my colleagues certainly think that way.

Funny how I have no plans for next weekend, don'cha think?!

I didn't do nuffink

Why is it that I feel guilty if someone asks me what I did over the weekend, and I mumble "Well, you know, not much really. It was a quiet one."

I was discussing this with Lucy earlier, and as she said, you spend your weekend thinking "What shall we do!", when the truth is . . . you don't have to do anything if you so desire.

So from now on, I won't feel guilty if I have a day where I spend half of it in a dressing gown, watching crap TV, browsing the internet, reading a book and not even leaving the house.

I have weekends when I rush about inanely for the whole time and then feel knackered when I go back to work on Monday's, so from now on my new motto is:

"It's my weekend, and I'll laze if I want to . . . "

So there.

Pass me some earplugs . . .

The author would like to know WHY people think it is socially acceptable to sit at their desk and hawk up great gobs of phlegm from the back of their throat? I mean, really! It has to be one of the most repulsive habits there is.

I sit at my desk, day after day, listening to Señor Phlegm building up to his moment of glory.

First will be a couple of gentle coughs, testing the water so to speak. A few sniffs perhaps, to place said mucous in primary hawking position.

And then . . . . . urgh. A prolonged noise, like the sound of a blocked plughole trying to drain, which can last anything up to about 3 seconds. Doesn't sound much, but try counting it in your head and applying said sound effects to 3 seconds of time. It's an ETERNITY!

It's beginning to make me feel nauseous.

Oh God . . . here we go again . . .

Sparkly things

Lucy is getting married. Next year.

It was a secret for a little while but now it is all out in the open.

She wasn't going to have an engagement ring originally, but her fiancé has convinced her to get one, so for the last few evenings, everything has all been a bit . . . . sparkly. Trying to decide what to go for.

White gold, yellow gold, rose gold, platinum, titanium . . . .

Claw set, bevel set, rubover, tension set, trilogy, solitaire, cabachon, princess cut, baguette cut, brilliant cut, emerald cut, pear cut, heart cut, marquise cut . . . .

Diamonds, pink sapphires, amethyst, amber, aquamarine, pearl, champagne diamonds, peridot . . .

Georgian, Victorian, Edwardian, Art Deco, Art Nouveau, Contemporary, Classic, Unusual . . . .

The good thing is that from looking at all these rings, even though Lucy is still completely undecided, I now know what sort of engagement ring I want! Shame there isn't anyone around to give me one at the moment.

By the way, it's tanzanite and diamond set in white gold.

Something like this.

If you insist.

PS. Before you start thinking that I am a bit premature, I am a Libran. It is practically in the job description to go completely gaga over anything twinkly.

Chocolate Ecstasy

In the post-Easter, chocolate haze that most of us find ourselves in, I am thinking about the effects of chocolate. We all hear about it lowering blood pressure, reducing depression and being anti-carcinogenic.

But much more interestingly, apparently eating chocolate stimulates the same pleasure centres in the brain that an orgasm does.

And I can believe it. I eat chocolate in a way that some people find revolting, but I know I am not the only one.

1. The chocolate (preferably creamy milk chocolate - Galaxy for everyday, Belgian or Swiss for special occasions) must have been in the fridge. For reasons highlighted in a moment.


2. The chocolate must be eaten with a hot cup of tea. The differences in temperature, between the hot sting of tea and the cool hardness of the refridgerated chocolate provide a nice contrast. Aided by (and this is the bit that people find it hard to forgive) . . .


3. Dunking your chocolate in your tea. I only do this with Galaxy, as even to me it seems a little sacreligious to do this with expensive chocolate. There is something decadent about sucking the melted warm chocolate off whatever piece you are "dunking" and still finding cold chocolate underneath. Rarely done in public. But always with a feeling of guilty pleasure.


4. Dark chocolate is different - the higher the cocoa solids the better, and must be eaten straight from the fridge, but without dunking. It should then be left to melt slowly on my tongue. Hot tea has a different purpose here - to warm your mouth up to facilitate easy melting.

Recently, due to my aforementioned "healthy diet" (read, no chocolate, sweets, crisps, blah blah blah), I had my first serious chocolate "hit" in six weeks with Lucy's birthday cake - a chocolate cake from Thorntons, decorated with thick milk chocolate, filled with chocolate ganache and topped with whole Continental chocolates. Never having abstained from chocolate for that long, the pleasure hit was immense.

If chocolate affected me that way after not having had it for a while and it uses the same pleasure centres of the brain (I presume on a slightly smaller scale, but it probably depends on the man?!), I'm going to pass out with pleasure by the time I have sex again . . .

Of course, combining the two things together is the best way. Where's my paintbrush?

Nice Buns!

Just wanted to show off my first attempt at baking Hot Cross Buns - yes, I know they are meant to be eaten on Good Friday, but I decided to make them today!

Fresh out of the oven and with glazy bits on

Can't you just smell their cinnamony goodness?!

The crosses on them are a bit wonky - my first attempt at piping as well, but all things considered, I think they look quite yummy! I did cheat a little bit and used my beloved Panasonic Breadmaker to make the dough. I recommend breadmakers to everyone - I am eating quite a healthy diet at the moment and don't eat a lot of bread, but one of my weekly treats is a fresh French Loaf, timed to be baked by 08:30 on a Saturday morning. Mmmmmm . . .

Warm, buttered and ready to be scoffed

History of the Hot Cross Bun courtesy of Wikipedia

In many historically Christian countries, the buns are traditionally eaten on Good Friday, with the cross standing as a symbol of the crucifixion. Their ingredients mean that people who are following lent are able to eat them as they traditionally contain no eggs or dairy products. They are believed by some to pre-date Christianity, though there is no original evidence for a pagan origin, and the first recorded use of the name Hot Cross Bun is not until 1733. According to food historian Elizabeth David, the buns were seen by Protestant English monarchs as a dangerous hold over of Catholic belief in England, being baked from the consecrated dough used in making the communion wafer. Protestant England attempted to ban the sale of the buns by bakers but they were too popular, and instead Elizabeth I passed a law permitting bakeries to sell them, but only at Easter and Christmas.

Those pesky Easter bunnies must have thieving from my kitchen again

Thought for your Fellow Man?

Today, I saw an example of true compassion for your fellow man, and yes, I am being sarcastic.

Being a beautiful sunny day, I decided to wander down to Camden. The bus-stop isn't a bus-stop per se - just one of those stick-your-arm out jobs. It stops outside a group of council houses.

I sat down on the low wall whilst I waited, and there was one other person - a lady probably in her mid-70's.

All of a sudden, this dreadfully stroppy woman comes marching up with her kid in a pushchair, and starts ranting on about us being awfully rude sitting on "her" wall and how it was a wall and not a bench. I stood up immediately, just to avoid confrontation. And then stood there aghast as she raged at this elderly lady, that she was being rude and disrespectful (is this the favourite word of the chav classes?) by sitting on "her" wall, it was part of "her" property and she knew what her legal rights were. I think she even mentioned the police at one point. She carried on ranting, even as this by now completely bewildered elderly lady struggled to her feet. Luckily the bus came at this point, as I was slowly starting to simmer and about to butt in. As we got on the bus, the lady said to me very sadly "In 50 years of living here, no-one has ever spoken to me like that."

Then on the bus, I had to listen to the usual group of teens playing music out loud on their dreadful tinny mobiles. This put me into a boiling rage - it's bad enough everyone has to listen to it but the music they play is always complete CRAP! One of these days I am going to borrow some opera or classical music off someone and download it to my mobile, which plays music significantly louder and with better quality than theirs. A bit of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, with the cannon guns going off would be quite effective I think? Mind you, I still have the soundtrack to Phantom of the Opera on my laptop. The gorgeous Gerard Butler singing "Music of the Night" maybe.

Speaking of Mr Butler, I didn't realise till yesterday that it was him playing King Leonidas in 300, and bouncing around wearing nothing but boots, a loincloth and a cloak. And looking incredibly buff!


He's got a seriously dodgy beard in it, but I still would . . .

To a Friend

"A friend is the person who knows all about you and still loves you."

Elbert Hubbert

Today it is Lucy's birthday.

There is nothing that makes life so livable as having a friend who knows you better sometimes than you know yourself.

Someone to lean on.
Someone to lean on you.
Someone you can be stupid with, and know that they "get you".
Someone who sees the worst and the best of you, but loves you all the same.
Someone with whom you can share your deepest secrets. And never worry about them being spilled.
Someone who you can be mutually stroppy with. But it will blow over in a second.
Someone you can have a really cathartic bitch with.
Someone to share those moments of uncontrollable, unstoppable laughter.
Someone to equally share the moments of uncontrollable, unstoppable tears.
Someone with whom you can just . . . . be.

Happy Birthday babe.

And thank you.

"My friend, if I could give you one thing, I would give you the ability to see yourself as others see you. . . then you would realize what a truly special person you are"

Barbara A. Billings

Miracle Worker?

I have been given a Miraculous Medal.

Ostensibly, to help me find a husband. Apparently, as I am now 30, I am beyond hope and need all the help I can get.

My friends mother, a darling 82 year old Irish lady, is a staunch Catholic, attending mass most days. The medal was passed to me with words along the lines of "I gave one to X last year - she's getting married now, and she's MAD, so she is!".

Thanks - I think.

But you never know.

For those of you unfamiliar with Catholicism, the Miraculous Medal came about when the Virgin Mary appeared to St Catherine Labouré in 1830 and told her to design a medal. Mary said "Those who wear it will receive great graces".

Does a husband count as a great grace? The way some friends complain about their other halves, the great grace would be if they disappeared in a puff of smoke. But I guess the grass is always greener . . .

Lucy (flat / bestest mate) has leapt on this idea with glee. I walked into the kitchen, only to be met with "It won't help you find a husband if you leave it on the kitchen table. THE KITCHEN TABLE DOESN'T WANT TO GET MARRIED!!!" bellowed down my ear.

And if I happen, as a result of wearing the Medal (yes, it is on a chain round my neck) to meet the love of my life, I will certainly let you know.

The shag of my life would be a step in the right direction . . .

Hello & Welcome!

Hi! And welcome to my diary!

I am not a new blogger - I keep one where people know who I am and what I do. It's a nice blog (if I do say so myself) and I get lots of lovely visitors.

But I need somewhere to put my innermost thoughts. To complain about things if I feel necessary. To let my imagination run riot when I want it to, and to be able to write whatever I want without fear of recrimination or humiliation. To write about those little things in life that are important to me, in other words.

For those of you that may ask "What is this blog going to be about?", it is just going to . . . . be.

So here it is.

I am not sure yet how this will go. I might be an incredibly boring person and find I have nothing to write, outside that which I already write about in my other one. On the other hand, you never know, I might even shock myself with what my occasionally warped, with an oddish sense of humour, mind can come up with.

Enjoy.