Puppy Love

Forever ago (okay, last Friday, but that's a lot of scrolling down on Pink is the New Blog!) Paris Hilton was spotted out and about with her new pups, and by that I mean the canine variety not breast implants you seedy bunch! How cute are they, and how vomit-inducing are those boots? Now anyone who knows me will tell you that I am crazy about ickle doggies, I love it when they trot along on their cute little legs, they look all perky and happy! But as we all know, Paris' dogs aren't allowed to walk all by themselves but need to be carried around like a small Louis Vuitton purse, or indeed inside a small Louis Vuitton purse. Some dogs have their own Louis Vuitton regalia, I refer you now to Jessica Simpson's ever-fashionable dog Daisy. If you're unfamiliar with Newlyweds, you can watch some serious overspending here.

Puppy has no expensive accessories, but if I were to splash out I would go in a different direction and look into getting him some doggles! I did once dress him in a stripey jumper, but it was a hideous one my sister bought me for my birthday - so hideous I think I must have pissed her off to deserve it! - and we put it on the dog for a laugh, crazy rebels as we are! I also attempted to buy him a parka but we couldn't get one to fit him :( I really don't think a lack of designer togs has bothered Puppy much. Materialism just isn't his bag; the only question Pup will ask of something is: can I eat it? Or maybe, in the case of the parka, does it make my bum look big?

For Christmas we've got Puppy a box of treats, and after today I think he deserves it! Although at first glance this tale will seem to warrant punishment rather than reward, I derived a strange sense of satisfaction, tinged with sadism, from the following events. Firstly, you should know that poor Puppy, despite his pseudonym, is actually a little Old Timer for his breed, and is now on water tablets that make him drink and pee a lot. This morning, he peed in the house, which he NEVER does. Boyf discovered him; we are in mid-argument and he is in mid-grovel, and what with my hand injury I couldn't possibly do it (tee hee) so Naughty Boyf had to clean up Puppy's widdle! Ahhhhhhh, Life Is Just. See how loyal my dog is?

Incidentally, if you follow the link to Pink is the New Blog, you can also see documentary evidence of Mariah Carey in a high neckline - no baps on display! I was deeply shocked. Also, GREAT pictures of Mr. Jake G. for which I am grateful as ever. I think I should introduce Tink to Pink, she loves The Simple Life and I ordered Nicole Richie's The Truth About Diamonds (in which Pink gets a mention) for her for Christmas. Surely that's wisdom enough for an Aunt to pass down to her nieces?

PostModern. PostColonial. PostSecret

How come when I'm settling down to do some major (pah!) work on my dissertation I can't seem to resist at least an hour of visiting distracting websites first, or indeed, instead? Oh, that's right, because I'm lazy and couldn't give a fug about my dissertation topic anymore! Gotcha.

It's beginning to look a lot like... Santa's Grotto!

It's a mere week away, but it really doesn't feel like Christmas for me yet. Note that I started referring to my bro-in-law as The Grinch Who Stole Christmas way back in March! However, I've decided that the fucker isn't getting the satisfaction, and finished off my Christmas shopping today. I finally - finally! - got my sisters sorted, but at the heavy price of buying a Scary Carey CD. See how much I love my sis that I swallow my pride and my dignity and order The Greatest Ti- I mean Hits?

Also for my Mariah-loving sister, DKNY's Be Delicious - and it is! I'd like this if I didn't already have more perfume than you can shake a stick at. Have you noticed that in the advert she doesn't pay for the apple though?

As for my other big sis, I was completely clueless as to what to get her until I bought my Take That tickets at 9 am on the dot on Friday morning!!!!! I am far too excited about this! As soon as I got them I text my sister to tell her I was officially 15 again, whereupon she text me back to tell me what a bitch I was since she was at that moment trying to get tickets for me, her, and Tink. I had no idea she wanted to go, so I'd arranged to go with Guillermo, who was quite drunk at the time he agreed :P She was green with envy upon discovering that Sugababes were to be the supporting act, and so I've got her the next best thing - Sugababes tickets! I love it when a plan comes together.

I've spent a bloody fortune over the last couple of days! I also found my Pink Nintendo DS at Toys 'R' Us after a trip to Ikea yesterday! My poor Boyf has searched the entire country for it as he's been working away in London and everywhere, and they had shitloads of them in Warrington! So I cancelled my order with Amazon, since now I can have it for Christmas :) *chuffed*

(As I blog, I'm helping this guy from Brazil who somehow made his way onto my MSN contact list translate his business proposal into English!)

News item: Shopping with straight men is nigh on impossible. I went with Boyf today and he got really stressed out because I looked at three different silk scarves for his grandmother instead of just buying the first one I saw. They were all in the same shop! Needless to say, the boots were not to be found. January Sales, I hear you calling to me already. I do kind of see Boyf's point though since his nan bloody gives everything away - I was in effect deliberating over a gift for a complete stranger, one of her neighbours or someone down the Legion! We cut the shopping short and went to get some grub instead; Boyf ordered a bottle of wine before we'd even sat down or heard the specials :P I cannot wait to give him his kayak!

Ooh-ooh, the X Factor Final!

Nightmare before Christmas

Not last night but the night before, I had a dream about my Granddad. I can't tell you how much I loved my Granddad - quite simply he was the cat's pyjamas. Anyhoo, the dream wasn't very straightforward and wasn't even mainly about him; it also included a plane crash or very bad turbulence (a common theme in my dreams, and probably prompted by Lost) and me cooking sweetcorn. But in one part of the dream, my Granddad was lying down on the stairs. He was lying at the top of the stairs, but with his head facing the foot of them. He wasn't sliding down them or anything and it seemed perfectly feasible that he should be having a rest on the stairs. It was dark, and I lay down next to him. I think I realised it was a dream at this point or started to wake up, because I was trying to remember what he smelt like and was imagining his grey jumper.

From How to Build Stairs. I shit you not.

But the point of my story is this: dream analysis and word association can be a tricky combination. I was thinking about the dream in bed in the early hours of this morning. Remembering when it was - not last night but the night before - reminded me of a rhyme in a Stephen King novel. I think it goes: late last night and the night before, Tommyknockers, Tommyknockers, knocking at your door. Which in turn reminded me of this scary ass ditty from Identity:

When I was walking up the stairs,
I met a man who wasn't there,
He wasn't there again today,
I wish I wish he'd go away.

Yup, I know how to freak myself out good! Bedroom light went back on at this point.

Conversations at 5 AM

And the award for the weirdest MSN conversation of my lifetime goes to...



David. But that's our little secret. You know, on my wall is a card from flowers you sent me on a long-ago Valentines Day. It says: "Thanks for being a great friend. You know when to cheer me up and when to kick my ass." I hope that's still true, and you can kick my ass if you feel the need! love, Chica x

Also, the tetanus shot I spoke of was IN MY ARM, thank you very much! Sheesh.

Trivial Pursuit

Believe it or not, there has been stuff happening in our lives other than having our house used as a thoroughfare in the recent brick throwing competition. The decorating continues. I'll be forced to kill the next person who suggests that brick red would be a good colour, even though I said it first. This means that we are yet to put the Christmas tree up! Sacrilege.

Last Thursday, the guy with the velvet blazer asked me what time my break was and if I'd like to have coffee with him. We all know that coffee is code for sex, so I slapped him across the face... oh okay, not really. I went bright red and mumbled something about going shopping on my break. He is really quite cute you know! He was sporting a green corduroy cap that day, and asked if I'd been off work cos he hadn't seen me for ages, "and I've been looking - I missed you." Dude is too cool for school! He always catches me when I look rubbish or am squinting at a computer screen or something... um, not that I care of course :P He also commented that I'm always smiling, which is what that other bloke who chatted me up said - is this just a very common line or could it be true? Maybe I'm randomly smiling at blokes and giving them the wrong impression!

Thursday I also attempted some late night shopping, but only lasted a coupla hours. I bumped into Weezer, who, I don't think I've mentioned, is dating 70s-Thinks-he's-a-Pimp! Grossness. Shop assistants are evil on Thursday nights too. Everyone who served me was downright rude, even in, like, Thorntons. What gives? I tried a dress on in Jane Norman that looked horrendous, drooled over a couple of dresses around the £100 mark in French Connection, and tried some more dresses on in Miss Selfridge. One of them was particularly nice, a navy colour with great straps, but it was a bit showy in the sense that I felt like wearing it was akin to wearing a sandwich board bearing the proclamation: hello, I have breasts! This effort at finding a suitable outfit was in honour of the Xmas do; but when I got home I managed to find something quite fitting for the occasion in the dark recesses of my wardrobe. Not that it mattered in the end!

Friday, I heard from Peter of Thornfield Hall, and was greatly relieved to learn that they offered the job to the girl who was dressed like a dog's dinner, despite my "very obvious skills." He wrote me a really nice letter and said how much he enjoyed meeting me :) But I have now revised my opinion on living in the middle of nowhere with a load of librarians - it sounds good to me right now! (As Guillermo said, until they go all Da Vinci Code on my ass.)

Tink found the most gorgeous pair of boots when she went shopping at the weekend; her outfit is very Rock Chick. They are black with a silver heel, and have strap detailing on the back. Tink is but 16, so I think she needs to give them to me really, they're a bit too sexy for the niece I sang to sleep as a bern! My search for boots continues.

I wonder who I could rope into coming to see Take That with me if I manage to get tickets?

Tissues & Issues

Whew. I got a lotta crap to get through today. So where do I start? Friday night we all settled down to watch The Recruit on DVD, basically because we couldn't be bothered going to rent anything decent and this was the only film we could sponge off a friend at short notice. We were all pretty tired and getting a little bored of the film, waiting for it to end about an hour and twenty in. I'd swapped places with the Boyf, who'd been sitting at my feet (in his designated area :P), because we'd moved most of the furniture out of there except for two armchairs while we decorate. So we're watching Colin Farrell run along a railway track, kill some dude and then recognise him from their training program, when all I hear is the sound of breaking glass and what I think is a torrent of gunfire. We're not in the movie anymore, the scene is my lounge, Colin Farrell is nowhere to be had and I'm pretty sure I can't blame Al Pacino. The first thing I do is scream my head off, scramble across the floor through our wine glasses and hide behind the armchair, because we all know that cheap upholstery is bulletproof right? The first thing Boyf does, I learn later, is spring out of his chair and go stick his head out of the jagged hole in our door. It wasn't gunshots at all, but two old house bricks, one through the living room window and one through the door. One brick, though I can't remember feeling it, hit my leg and I am now sporting a big lump and multicoloured bruising on my left thigh. The noise of the bricks and shattering glass was unbelievable in the echoey room, it seemed like it lasted a long time. Boyf was shouting and asking if I was okay, I said yes, then noticed the pool of blood. I looked at my hands and the palms were red, but I didn't feel any pain. Where is this blood coming from? I said, is everyone else okay? Boyf shouted for someone to call an ambulance and I waited for the pain to kick in, hoping it wasn't something serious; I literally did this, just sat and waited rather than checking, kind of stupid huh? Luckily Boyf was there and he found a deep slice in my hand and ran to get some kitchen towel to stop the blood, then lifted me off the floor and carried me into the kitchen, which was when I noticed that a brick had come through the front door too. Phonecalls were being hurriedly made while this was happening, and some of my family and my neighbour turned up while we were waiting for the paramedic. I hugged my sister. I was very calm although I was shaking. Boyf was trembling too and I told him to calm down and get my trainers. He could only find the boots. Yes people, I went to hospital in a pair of blood spattered pink pyjamas, a black coat I've had for six years, cow print slippers, and freshly blow-dried hair - which could have been my only saving grace - scragged back in a hair clamp. For shame.

It's taking me ages to type this since it's my right hand that's injured and that's the hand I can type with. Bloody typical!

The paramedic and the first nurse I saw were really nice and we had some humourous banter, none of which I remember. When we got to the hospital Boyf realised that his socks and shoes were full of broken glass, so he emptied them out on the floor. He also complained that even though his hands were covered in my blood too, the paramedic never asked him if he was okay.

Nurse: Well are you hurt?
Boyf: Well... no.
Nurse: *rolling his eyes* Well shut up then, God! Not getting any attention?

I walked through to the waiting room feeling an absolute state and there were three girls sitting there in their PJs. One of them went "Aren't those boots gorgeous!" It was pretty empty when we got there; it must've been about half twelve. Some drunk bloke came in and hassled us a bit, then we finally got called through. Someone took my blood pressure and my temperature, then we waited some more. Then I got sent for X-rays of my hand to make sure there was no glass still in there. I really enjoyed wandering around all these different departments of the hospital in my nightwear, but I eventually got stuck in a corner and forgotten about when all the drunks started arriving. We sat there while everyone else got cups of tea and blankets, came, were seen to, and went. Do doctors not like doing stitches or something? At about 7 am, after Boyf had been and jumped up and down a few times, they reluctantly found a doctor to stitch me up, and I warned her I was prone to fainting around needles. After being jabbed maybe 20 times by said needles, I had three very Frankenstein-esque stitches in my hand. Boyf had to sit down half way through cos he nearly fainted :P Then a nurse came, bandaged my hand and gave me a tetanus shot, which wasn't too bad until the next day. It still hurts!

Saturday everyone was really busy fixing the broken windows and putting lights and CCTV cameras on the front of our house, which is very fucking weird I must say. I think we may have set ours up to be a bit oversensitive too; if anyone actually sets foot in our street they get a big spotlight in their faces :P Maybe we should get big megaphones and shout things at them in an alien language so they think they're being abducted?

The annoying thing is I had that very night decided on the perfect outfit to wear to the Xmas do, managed to wangle a ticket for Boyf (which I paid for) and then I couldn't go! And the culprits? The Grinch clan. And I bet you think you've got it bad with your in-laws!

More shopping!

A warning: it's going to be like this until 23rd December. I apologise, but otherwise I lose track! I actually had to stop shopping today because I couldn't carry any more stuff. I was half way to the till with something else and I just thought, there's no way I'm gonna get all this home on the bus!

Today's haul:

- 3 shirts for Boyf, including one absolutely gorgeous olive green one that I had in mind before I set out and actually found! Dontcha love it when that happens? Is it bad I'm buying my boyfriend a shirt because I thought it looked sexy on Shayne Ward? (I don't fancy him by the way - he's a bit OTT on the puppy dog eyes for me.)

- a very manly (honest!) scarf, hat and glove set for Boyf. I couldn't resist, it is so cute! Don't think he'll wear it in Liverpool though... oh, and also a belt.

- yet more silky underwear for myself.

- from Boots, fcuk hair products for Boyf, Badedas and a yummy olive set for mum.

- 2 tops and a cardigan for work.

However, I found absolutely nothing to wear for the Xmas bash on Saturday, I don't know what I'm gonna do with my hair, and I know hardly anyone! *Panic starts here*

In other news, my Kaiser Chiefs tickets arrived today and they are a bit flimsy looking. I hope they're bloody real! :P

Oops I did it again

Today has been glorious. I have done absolutely nothing. Well, that's a lie actually; I got up, showered, had a cuppa, listened to some tunes, had some breakfast, watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer, had a natter with my mum, and shopped online. Oh, and there were a few phonecalls from the Boyf, who is working in London at the mo'. He and his workmates left site today to go to the pub and watch football - they had about five pints and then went back to work, operating heavy machinery etc! My mum finally told me what I could buy her for Christmas - she wants a dinner service for the French house. I'm not sure that crockery is the best Christmas present in the world, but it's what she wants so it's what she'll get! I'll get her the obligatory chocs, Badedas, and a good read as well. Now it's just my sisters and nieces to figure out! In my search for Christmas presents for this fussy lot, I accidentally bought myself a pink Nintendo DS! How on Earth this keeps happening I do not know! I'll just have to live with it I suppose...

Last weekend was very fruitful as far as the old Christmas shopping is concerned. I sorted all of Yank's tribe out; I got my awkward cousin some Toni & Guy hair products, Li a huge Coffee mug with coffee beans and other bits and bobs, and a Scooby Doo Where Are You? game for Crazy. You gotta love those 3 for 2 deals! I don't know what I'd do without Boots to get me started. We also got Boyf's mum a big pedicure set for her manky feet *heave* For Jack Jack I got the cutest little hoody in the world! And a Bratz doll for Anjelica. Sunday was madness as we did about 100 miles just going to Wales to look at Thornfield Hall, shopping at various retail parks and popping into town for a nice Italian. It's really no wonder I chose to spend today in my pyjamas! Tomorrow I have a bit of work on my dissertation to look forward to, and the third Harry Potter movie, which Potter lent me when he heard I hadn't seen it yet. Isn't he a good'n!

Happy Birthday to ya!

Birthday wishes go out today to Guillermo! 21 again I believe!

About a year ago, when we were both happily, um "engrossed" in our studies and unsullied by the harsh realities of full time employment, myself and Mr. Silverknife began a little phase called Hey, Who Needs Daytime? Let's MSN 'Til Dawn. T'other day, I came across an old conversation I forgot I saved, when we were trying to plan our trip to Edinburgh.

Chica says: id sleep in the car if i had to
Guillermo says: as long as it wasn't my car
Chica says: you havent got a car
Guillermo says: u know what i mean
Chica says: if u or i had a car this would be so much more simple
Guillermo says: ah now i see... i don't have a car, that's the problem.. it's like an american high school movie
Chica says: hehehe
Guillermo says: Chica will never go to the prom with me if i don't have a sweet ride!

Pleasure/Pain

If this is what macrobiotic dieting does to you, I'll stick to chip butties!

Is it just me or does Gwyneth's face look totally weird in this picture for the Estee Lauder ad campaign? I see it every night on my bus ride home and all I can think is: when did Gwyneth get such a big face? It looks like her image has been photoshopped on there and they got the proportions all out. Gwyn, you're much prettier than this, even in a dodgy paparazzi shot that's gracing the pages of a tabloid that's covering our living room windows while the room gets plastered! Demand these shots be retaken from a better angle - like the L'Oreal girls, you're worth it!

Crossroads

Oh my goodness. I had my interview at Thornfield Hall today. I decided I'd go just to give myself a bit longer to think about it and for the interview practice, thinking it couldn't hurt to meet one of the bigwigs from the English Department either. It all went really really well, then at the end of the interview the sweetest bloke in the world who interviewed me asked if I was likely to take the job if he offered it to me. Well, of course I bloody said yes! Then he said, "Oh good, the worst thing in the world is when you call to offer someone a job and they turn it down!" I'm thinking, oh shit, but I say, "Oh, don't get my hopes up Peter!" and they all laugh. Then he double checked they had the correct phone number for me. In time honoured tradition, I went down and wished the girls I'd been waiting with the best of luck before I left. Please God let one of them do really well and get the job cos I can't bear to say no to Peter! Merde.

Anyway. I had lovely texts and phonecalls from Guillermo to wish me luck, and it's his birthday tomorrow! I do believe he is out as I type getting merry, and has a long weekend to look forward to. Have fun G! I've since spoken to my dad, who said I should've given Peter a false number and suggested that I don't need any more interview practice, unless I plan on taking the job for sure!

Bollocks.

Thornfield Hall

Hey you guyyyyys! (To be imagined in the style of Sloth from The Goonies.)

I don't know why, I just felt like a Sloth moment. Maybe because I'm at work wishing I could commit at least a few of the 7 Deadly Sins?

News on the job offer. I went over there on Sunday to check the place out and it is properly romantic! It's like something out of the pages of Jane Eyre, but you know, with less oppression and cruelty to children. Because it is so far away (300 miles of commuting a week anyone?) they said I could have a room there - they are like uni dorms and quite sweet, but the drawback is I'd really miss my Boyf during the week and it's in the middle of nowhere with just a few old librarians for company! I so want the job because it's a great opportunity and the bloke who would be interviewing me really seemed to be selling the place to me which suggests that he'd like me for the job, so I think I'd have a good chance even though I'm not strictly qualified for it (he said his eyes lit up when he spotted my CV on their file!) I get the idea it would be a much more relaxed place to work and they'd actually treat me like a grown up with something to offer rather than a kid to be ordered around all day like in my current job. But the commute is just too much, I'd be out of pocket by the time I'd paid all my expenses, and the holidays suck compared to what I get now...

Tell me to be sensible, tell me!

Wonders Never Cease

Firstly, a pic in honour of Wondy's 28th birthday! Happy Birthday! Follow this link for a rollicking good read.

Guess what chafes more, the rope or these pants?

Um, I have been asked to apply for a job in Wales (well, just over the border.) Looks like my eh what the hell I'm not qualified for this job but screw it I'll still apply technique has finally paid off! I was rejected for this position I applied for (that you needed a PhD for... ahem) but they wrote me again and said: hey here's another job you're not qualified for but we're not fussy wanna apply? It's better money than I'm on now, but not by much and I'd probably have to buy a car to feasibly get there and/or a place in Chester... or somewhere a bit closer that doesn't require a footballer's salary. Shit. Then I'll really be a fucking grown up.

Even though they've only asked me to apply and I haven't got an interview or whatever for sure I'm feeling pretty excited about it. Although it may not even be practical to work there (the place is absolutely gorgeous as well!) it just feels kinda cool that someone liked something about my application and got in touch - things like that don't generally happen to me.

In Her Shoes

So there's this student at work that keeps chatting me up all the time. He wears velvet jackets (todays was damson) and funky hats, and he feigns deep interest in the workings of the library. The other week he was asking loads of questions about what the reception desk is for and then admitted he just wanted an excuse to talk to me *blush* But now any time I have to serve him I get super embarrassed! When I let him avoid the queue by helping him take some books out, he was like "oh, you make me feel so special," then he rang the library to ask a question and asked for me (I was on the first floor and Weezer had to run around looking for me.) How do I tell him I have a boyfriend without him specifically asking and without looking like a moron who can't handle a bit of flirtation without assuming things?

In other news, I spent an absolute fortune on Sunday and got lots of Christmas pressies in, including my own! Yes, I finally gave into temptation and ordered the Sex and the City shoebox I was drooling over about a month ago :) The piece de resistance was the inflatable kayak I got for Boyfy - a bit of a splurge at £210, but then I thought "I just spent £150 on DVDs and knickers." I can't wait to see his face on Xmas day, he'll be so surprised. We had a good laugh at work planning how I could wrap myself up in it and jump out of a kayak, but I can't remember now why it was so funny (um, aside from the play on words, natch.)

Saturday we went to the pictures to see - not Harry Potter. The queues to get into the theatre to see Harry P were ginormous, and the ushers were all dressed in Hogwart-esque (presumably) school uniforms. I do wanna go see it eventually, maybe a bit nearer Christmas. We saw In Her Shoes, which was quite good but I think I wanted it to be funnier. It was a real feel-good film, and the theme of sisterhood hits home with me at the moment. But the part where Toni Collette's boyf proposes to her by putting an engagement ring on a shrimp? ...Fish finger anyone? Cameron played a very convincing bitch, and it made me cry. Plus, there are shoes, and oldies watching Sex and the City while drinking cocktails. I can't quite believe that the OAPs would have quite so many functions requiring glamorous attire to keep Cam in business, but eh, what can you do? Sometimes you just have to suspend your disbelief and enjoy these things.

Nobody Else

Who watched the Take That documentary thingy the other day?! I was a massive fan when I was like, 14, and wanted to marry Mark Owen, so I thought I'd have a look at it. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my folks were also watching it - they thought it was very sad that Robbie didn't turn up at the end! Me and my friend at the time, Laura, referred to ourselves as Take That comrades. It was all quite tragic and embarrassing, but thankfully we were never anywhere near as bad as all those fans they showed crying and screaming and doing things like telling their children Gary Barlow was their dad! It was the talk of the day with the girls at work too, and we all expressed the same sentiment: What the eff happened to Jason Orange's voice? I think his balls climbed back up or something? He didn't used to talk like that did he?

The programme showed their houses they have now - Gary's house looks a bit like Elton John's wardrobe threw up on it. Gary was well cheesy getting his kids to run in on cue and asking if they wanted to hear daddy sing (bet they wanted to go "ugh, not A Million Love Songs again Da"), and the goatee thing on his chin was gross. Overall though, I think it really was a shame Robbie didn't turn up at the end, instead of sending them a video to all sit and watch - patronising much? Though I'm sure there are all kinds of issues there and that docu only really scratched the surface - Robbie is still well bitter about it all despite his massive success.

So it's Friday now - thank fuck - and I'm looking forward to the moment I get off the bus. Yesterday we went Christmas shopping (kinda), and it was actually suggested by the Boyf, who needed shoes and a belt for a charidee do on Sunday. The shoes he got are well nice - I was very proud of him finding them all by himself. I bought a big cosy cardie because I've been freezing in work, then realised I didn't have that many clothes to go with it since it's like a deep purple colour. I'm shivering today but I'm wearing a red top - I just can't pair the two. We managed to pick up one Christmas present, for our Yank, who's usually solid to buy for. It's a poker carousel with chips and cards and all the necessaries. I've since had the idea of going back and getting Boyf one. He's not a particularly big gambler - he only plays the lottery and puts a bet on the Grand National at Aintree. But strip poker sounds like too much fun to pass up. It truly is the gift that keeps on giving :)

First comes love...

This morning on the bus I heard a familiar grating sound, a sort of screeching of tyres in vocal form, and looked up to have my suspicions confirmed. The ranting militant Londoner from my masters course had boarded, and was ranting at the bus driver about the fare. It was so weird to see her, still seemingly in the same outfit, especially when I've had to think a lot about my dissertation recently, prompted by concerned emails from my tutor. If it hadn't been first thing in the morning and she hadn't been in mid-rant, I probably would have said hello.

Last night was my late night, and instead of my usual break-partner of Potter, I went with Mordred. Mordred was really nice when my sister's husband died on the phone to my mum, so she's won lots of points from me. My great nephew and her grandson were born around the same time too so we talked about that; then I was summoned to go see all her pictures of him, which was kind of touching because she lights up when she talks about him. It was a chilled late night cos Elspeth was just blatantly slacking for the last hour, so that made it okay for me too :P

And finally, congratulations are in order for Mrs. De Winter, who's totally in love and moving in with her new beau. She hasn't been seeing him all that long and it got me to thinking about things with the Boyf. What am I waiting for? Yes, I'm terrified of commitment, but we've been together for 6 years, and if we move in together now and hate each other then at least I'll find that out now instead of waiting another 6 years... right?

Prediction

We have a new blokey at work. He does a different job to me and gets to work a lot less hours, the lucky bugger! He's young, tall and quite handsome - I predict he'll end up with Weezer. I don't know why, it's just an inkling I have - they haven't even met yet! Watch this space!

Also, Rarebit finally left his leather waistcoat at home! This calls for a celebration! I would really like to burn it ceremonially and dance around the ashes drinking tequila and singing old pirate shanties... or something. I complimented him on his new look - you know, without saying "Thank God you've stopped wearing that disgusting rag." I'm subtle like that, see?

Funereal Laughs

Okay so, I decided to just go with the sombre tone and ya'll can ride it with me. Here is a short lesson in how to be a bad Catholic, courtesy of my family.

Aunt Boy George: Oh fuck, you'll see Jesus to what's-her-name? The woman that's kneeling and praying?
Mum: Our Lady?!
Aunt BG: Yeah, that's her.

Pebbles: They'd put one of those things in his hand, you know, them rosemary beads.

Tink: Why's the priest flicking water?

Sis: Aw, he even brought one of those sprayers, what are they called?
Me: A water pistol?

All: and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us...
...10 minutes later...
Me: I can't stay here and play happy families with him, I'm so angry, they might have all forgotten, but I haven't, and I never will!

Sis: Is it okay to hug a priest?
Mum: Not when you stink of ale.

Bad Day at Black Rock

Shit, it's difficult to write posts when so much crap is going on in your life. My blog is meant to be a light, flippant, happy-g0-lucky sort of space, with the odd moaning session thrown in for good measure, and maybe the occasional non-serious breakdown when I've had a tiff with the bitchy cousin or the supervisor. Suffice to say, this past week would have made glorious fodder for the scriptwriters at Eastenders. The only good thing I'm able to write about is that my Boyfriend was thrilled with the Australian Pink Floyd tickets (MJ was green) I surprised him with on his birthday. Other than that, nearly everyone I love has broken down in tears at some point during the last week and are still in complete anguish. I'm having the day off today because I've hardly slept, even though I would rather be at work than at home today. I'll post more when WW3 has calmed down a bit, but for now I think there will be a short intermission (unless I later decide to post everything in one big cathartic rant! :P) I'll still be reading my usual blogs though, as they're my only respite when I'm chained to a desk!

Scorpio + Aries = Passion

Happy Birthday to my gorgeous boyfriend! 28 today!

Full Moon

As I am enduring another late night at work I thought I'd try for an update, in between the excellent work I'm carrying out for the University, naturally.


Firstly - a belated Happy Halloween! Halloween can be pretty fun if you get into it, which this year we didn't really make the effort - on the night we went straight out after work for a meal and to take in a show at the Empire (above), Twopence to Cross the Mersey, which was just kind of eh, whatever. I'm assured the book is much better but I'm not really into those kinds of books, and I thought it was a poor portrayal of Liverpool and Liverpudlians, especially the bit about the old man and Helen bonding because it was the first 'proper' English he had heard since he arrived in Liverpool. And lines like "Cos I relate to people what's got class." Cheek! But Boyf was quite excited to catch a glimpse of Sinbad from Brookie, who was also there to see the show. We encountered him a couple of times, including in the street after it had finished when both Boyf and I went: "Sinbad!" a bit too loudly and his wife gave us a funny look. He looked well! And it was a good way to avoid the trick or treaters.

Continuing the Halloween theme, Potter and I have just been discussing scary movies. He celebrated All Hallows Eve with The Blair Witch Project. I went to see this at the cinema when it first came out. Our Yank saw it a few days before me and planned to sneak into my bedroom the night I'd seen it and stand in the corner facing the wall to scare the bejesus out of me, but he was foiled in one way or another. Potter's all time scariest films include The Ring (Japanese version) and Don't Look Now, and I struggled to think of one cos I'm quite easily scared by films to be honest. But I did recall trying to watch Mulholland Drive on my own in a dark bedroom and getting the biggest fright of my life when that scary face scene is on, for anyone who's seen it. I was that frightened I just thought "I can't handle this!" and switched it off. I'll get around to watching it one day though as I keep hearing good things and am told that at the end you're like "WTF?" which is something I look for in a film :) By the way I totally couldn't remember the name of this film and Potter guessed it with the meagre clues of "weird" and "scary face."

Talking of all things weird and scary, I am again blessed by the presence of the Foot Perv. Dude is totally freaking me out for numerous reasons that really have to be seen to be appreciated. Also, today, Potter and I were sharing the small table in the staff room having our lunch. This table is really narrow and piled with junk from the book club so there were three chairs but really only space for two, at a push. Foot Perv waddles in and asks to share my half of the table - well I can hardly say no. He was practically on my knee eating his dinner. It sounds petty but he was seriously up close and personal. He does it behind the counter though, he's like superglue and bumps into you all the time because he tries to follow you so fast. If the sensitive balance of what we do at work can be compared to an intricate dance, then I have only one thing to say to Foot Perv: Spaghetti arms!

Pierre the lunatic French dude came in today too. Whenever I'm dealing with him there is a certain element of fear because he's really unpredictable, but if you handle him right, or are lucky enough to catch him in a playful but tolerable mood, then he can be pretty funny. He returned a 3-day loan book late. It has a big yellow sticker on the side saying 3 DAY LOAN and the due date stamped on the inside - 28 Oct. You're going to have to imagine the French accent.

P: Excuse me, I think this book is late but I won't have to pay a fine, nobody told me it was a 3 day loan.
Me, in a light, jocular, please-don't-turn-into-The-Incredible-Hulk tone: Ah yes, there's a sticker on the side there. That's 80p.
P: No I don't have to pay a fine, nobody tells me.
Me, smiling sweetly: Yes, I'm afraid you do, there's a yellow sticker and the date you have to bring it back is stamped here see?
P: Ah, okay okay, I try to use my business skills! 18p?
Me: 80p, thank you... okay, here's your receipt and I've taken it off your account.
P: Okay, you win again!

Sex, lies, and videotape

Right back atcha Andrew!

It's Saturday night and I have just spent the evening with Andrew Lincoln. He starred in Afterlife; it was the last in the series tonight and it's been pretty good apart from the lack of nudity on Andrew's part. Maybe I could make that a suggestion for series 2 if there is one? I find it perfectly impossible to understand his relationship to Lesley Sharpe's character without seeing Andrew's arse. And that's the truth. Why is that guy so cute? There's something really sexy and vulnerable about him. Definitely worth a boink!

Boyf is currently at a poker party, getting sloshed. At least the premise of the party was to play poker, for his best friend Butthead's birthday (which was last week.) He left for the party at two o'clock today. I spoke to him about twenty minutes ago and they were just getting the cards out. The lure of the pub was just too much for them to bear. Also throwing a bash tonight is my entire family, for Halloween. There are two reasons I'm not there, and they're both great big dickheads. Yes, the Grinch and Judas are both in attendance. There have been some developments in that area, with my sister having a bit of a realisation that Christmas this year will SUCK ASS because her husband is a prick. Grinch offered to "have a word" with my boyfriend to try and sort things out so that everybody could go to the party and play happy families and I could just develop amnesia and forget all the things that have been said. But when my mum told my sis that I probably wouldn't piss on Grinch if he was on fire... I mean, want to go to the party, sis decided it wasn't worth Grinch going to the effort of "having a word." My sister is deluding herself at the moment. She had a merry conversation with me about all of us going shopping in Manchester, and Grinch could drive us there. I made my excuses as subtly as possible: oh, I'll just need a whole day! I'm going to go when I've got my next day off - in five weeks. With him?! Are you fucking serious? I'd rather prise out my own eyeball with a spoon. (Ummm... that last one was just in my head.)

And breathe. On a lighter note, Most Haunted Live is on this weekend, for a Halloween special, but we watched some of it last night and it was complete pants. They just filmed themselves waiting for a lift for about five minutes, awkwardly trying to make conversation and sound interested in the fact that they were waiting for a lift. We only watched it because there was an expose in the paper from Ciaran O'Keefe (the shows acting parapsychologist and sceptic extraordinaire) saying how he had made up names of "ghosts" and fed them to Derek Acorah, the shows medium (pictured; Joey from Bread is obviously a big influence), and how the names were anagrams of DEREK LIES and DEREK FAKER. Sure enough, poor old Degsy was possessed by said spirits. So we thought, oooh, we'll watch it and see if they deny it and what will they say about Ciaran and will Derek even be there?! But we watched it and they were all there, even Mr. O'Keefe, and made no mention of it whatsoever, as if nothing had happened. The only entertainment we had was trying to decide if Yvette Fielding has had collagen injections. She was looking a bit Leslie Ash if you ask me.

Lost in Translation

People, I am so utterly fried. I am still stuck in work. If it wasn't for P.Diddy I don't think I could have made it this far - I'd have ripped off my Staff badge and gone skipping and screaming into the night. Working with Foot Perv is like being on a seesaw of awkwardness and morbid fascination. Even when the poor bloke says something normal, it's a shock coming from his mouth. It's like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs.*

Oooh, Dave has smuggled an mp3 player in. Lucky bastard.

So I got on my usual bus today that I ride every single day to work and sat there for like an hour or however long it takes to get 15 minutes away from my workplace. Then the bus stops and everyone gets off but me. I just sat there, until the bus driver leans over and tells me it's the last stop. What? Since when? So I had to leg it to work. Maybe he just saw there was only one person and thought 'fuck it'?

In exactly 12 hours time (God willing) I'll be on that bus again on the way here. How depressing. I'll just have time to get home, wash my hair, straighten my hair, iron my trousers and make my lunch. Guillermo however, is having a whale of a time cavorting around from one social event to another this evening. Jealous!

I'll leave you with a conversation I had with an international student earlier when I asked him very nicely to repeat something I'd missed:

Him: Are you foreign?
Me: No
Him: Then why do you have a problem understanding English?

Charmed, I'm sure!

*Yes, I'm stealing from Mean Girls.

Drama

So far this week, a student went into a diabetic fit at work and an ambulance was called, a dead body was found underneath the flyover, and there has been a train derailment (in which, very luckily, noone was killed.) Also, one of the cleaners was standing at the end of the library counter talking very loudly on the phone to her husband, sounding very much like she was accusing him of having an affair. What gives me this impression chiefly is that she yelled "Well why don't you want sex anymore?!" All a bit too Eastenders for my liking.

Tonight after a long, boring day at work, I filled out some more job applications. One of them I totally want, the other is a bit dodgy as it involves interviewing violent and/or psychotic criminals. Plus you have to do roleplay in the interview, which would only be okay if I got to play the psycho (terminology I should probably avoid if I want the job :P) Caught bits of TV including Jamie Oliver getting his Special Recognition from the National TV Awards, and good on him too! His dad was there and announced the award, he looked dead chuffed and proud, it brought a tear to my eye! His Fifteen and School Dinners projects are very admirable, and I saw one of his new shows where he drives to Sicily in a camper van and it was cool :) Also watched Lost, and it turns out that Shannon and Boone got jiggy with it in Australia, quelle surprise.

Tomorrow I'm covering Rarebit's late shift, hence the late night post. The dude totally scammed me to do his late and then took the rest of the week off sick, but at least he owes me one. This means that I have to work with the Foot Perv... I never thought I'd regret not owning Doc Martens.

A Kings Ransom

The Olive Press was last night the scene of unrestrained debauchery. It pains and humiliates me to confess something that will provoke disgust and outrage in you, gentle reader. Last night, after entering the restaurant and tottering down a small flight of stairs in my very high heels, we were told we had to wait for our table so headed to the bar, where we ordered a pint and a double Baileys... the pint cost £3.50, which is a rip off but we are prepared to deal with that as it's the norm to be ripped off in most places we go. But the Baileys... the Baileys... oh the Horror! NINE POUNDS!!! Have you seen how little liquid you get in a double Baileys? The glass is most definitely half empty! Moreover, for NINE POUNDS (FOR A DRINK!!) you can almost buy a bottle of the stuff. Let me just put this into sharper context. Before 7 o'clock in said restaurant, they do a £10 meal deal, which offers 2 courses and a glass of wine! There was a group of women next to us when we handed over our hard earned cash with faces agog, who sympathetically advised: "you'd better enjoy that drink!" "Fucking hell," Boyf complained, "Let me have a taste!" The rest of the night is a complete blank. I have never quite recovered!

That'll be £95 and your first born son please.

Oh okay, it's not a complete blank, but seriously that totally put me off the place and I didn't enjoy the rest of the experience at all, even though it was quite decent. I didn't like the food I ordered, but thems the brakes sometimes, the starter was scrummy, and it was nice to go someplace new. I won't be going back though, that's for sure!

We had a 9:30 table so we hit the Tapas bar before we traipsed over to The Money... I mean Olive Press, and had some yummy sangria. The bar was packed and we had a good laugh trying to fit as many Elvis related words and sayings into our conversations - childish but effective, just add alcohol. Sample Quote: "Can you hold this for me please? ...Thank you very much." We forgot to take a watch so kept having to ask people the time or try and spy a look at their wrists. We were next to a group of Cockneys, and when one of them laughed it honestly sounded like he was sobbing his heart out. They told us they'd been waiting for a table since Tuesday. Better to wait than pay NINE POUNDS FOR ONE DRINK I say! Sorry, I'll get over it when I get a job with a bigger salary, company car, and perhaps twelve underlings. Can I just say we used to think the Tapas bar was expensive and the round there costs half the price than the one at Satan's Rip-Off Dump? Like the Murphy's, I'm not bitter. I think I'm traumatised. I'll probably have to drink solely in Wetherspoons (cheapy cheapy cheap cheap - and, according to the website, award winning loos!) for a bit until I recover.

Don't step on my blue suede shoes, bitch!

Anyway, after leaving The Restaurant That Shall Not Be Named, we hovered in the doorway for a bit deciding whether to get soaked in the rain or try and hail a cab. A passing cab, it's orange light answering our dilemma, wrapped up all such discussion and we got in. Then regretted it. Taxi man just rabbited on at us for the entire journey, and after hearing with satisfactory revulsion our tale of the £9 Baileys, suggested that I frequent an area well known for prostitution to earn the money back. When Boyf protested, taxi man argued that I didn't even know what that meant. I must look innocent or something. All in all, a bit of a mixed bag as nights out go.

Oh, and also, when we passed Havana, everyone was standing around the TV watching X Factor :P So I just about know that Journey South made it through as they were on when we passed. Because of my week in France I missed out on a bit of X Factor and haven't really kept up with it as I should have, but I'd like to say how gutted I am that little Trevor and James didn't get through. Trevor made me cry when he said that he thought he'd just be stacking shelves for the rest of his life. The poor mite is only 16. On a more worrying note, I think Chico is actually starting to grow on me (like a fungus?) At least he doesn't come on singing boring ballads every week. I just wish he'd stop telling everyone it was "Chico time!"

You know, in the olden days, they used to Press people to death with big stones for committing certain crimes... don't think there were any Olives involved though. And very little Baileys.

Living for the Weekend

Wooo hoooo! It's Saturday. I cannot explain my joy at reaching Saturday - it's only eclipsed by my dread at reaching Sunday night! Seriously, my job isn't that bad, so why do I hate it so much? Weird. Anyway, I've been applying for others. I only found out about two of them at the last minute so my supporting statements aren't that good - in one of them I just copied and pasted a load of stuff from past supporting statements and ended up with a 4 page essay about why they should hire me :P I think it may be information overload, but it was all I had time to do and you've gotta be in it to win it! Got a couple of applications through the post today, one is for a research job I really want and another is for a ridiculously well paid job a step up from what I'm doing, but I don't reckon I'll get it as I've only been in this job 3 months.

So, I'm off out on the town tonight with my Boo. We have loosely planned a scrumptious meal somewhere and a few Baileys, maybe a bit of dancing. I think we might try The Olive Press. I did want to try Il Forno (right) but Elspeth from work is going there so I'll avoid it for now! It looks gorgeous though. There are so many new restaurants springing up around the place at the mo'; another one I want to try is the Alma De Cuba (left) - it's in the former St. Peter's church and we were thinking of going there for the works Christmas night out until we settled on The Living Room. It looks very grand! Mmmm, all this talk is making me hungry!

Now for the age old question: What to wear? I'm off to pamper myself with a sojourn in the bath and mull it over.

My Boy Lollipop

I just survived two and a half hours on the computer helpdesk with minimal knowledge of computers. Basically, I was an usher, referring people to the other computer assistant and selling them snacks and beverages... oh okay, discs and print credits. I nearly died when I saw it on the timetable, but it actually made the time pass really quickly. This morning I woke up like a bear with a sore head. I hate dark mornings.

EDIT: Chicken Stu, the bloke in charge of the comp desk, nipped out for a ciggy and bought me a drumstick lollipop for my hard work! (I hope I'm still getting paid :P) I'm quite touched! :) Also noticed that I'm back on the comp desk tomorrow though - bracing myself.

In other news, CONGRATS go out to Guillermo, who is now a published author!

Must go clock back in and leave my life at the door! I'll leave you with these memorable quotes:

Weezer, on the result of dyeing her hair brown: "Oh well, it's Halloween soon."

P.Diddy (a colleague), on Mein Kampf: "Do you know what happens? The small man with the black moustache did it."

Boyf, to a man in his fifties getting out of a suped-up car blasting rave music: "Mid-life crisis mate?"

Celebs I'd love to have a pint with... vol. 1

Tess Daly & Vernon Kay

Wouldn't you just love to hang out with these guys? They're like the perfect couple. Vernon would be a right laugh and Tess seems really down to Earth, despite being unfathomably lucky on the genetic front. Vernon has starred in some crap telly shows in his time of course. One that strikes me most firmly is that Saturday night show he presented with has-been singers and acts attempting a comeback. I remember listening to Vernon's Radio One show on a drive back from Wales after he had interviewed Haddaway (remember him? no? he sang What is Love (oh baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more) back in 1990-something.) He asked Hadda (for short) how he kept in such good shape and Hadda's reply was to very sleazily drawl: "Lots of sex." Vernon took the piss out of him. I also think their wedding looked fab (they got married in Vernon's home town near Bolton and their wedding car was a camper van) and their baby pics are very classy. They've gradually worked their way up in the industry too, with Tess appearing in The Beloved's Sweet Harmony video where everybody's naked, and Vernon starring in some TV show that followed models around (he being a male model, not in a pervy sense.) Tess is gorgeous enough to be forgiven for being Bruce Forsythe's TV wife on Strictly Come Dancing, or whatever that cheesefest show is. I know it's popular but come on! She was brilliant with Brian Dowling on SM:TV though. And in a magazine interview she said she wanted to move to the country and bake cakes, which rocks! Thumbs up for Tess & Vernon I say!

Travel Log, Episode Three: Back to the Future Anterior

This concluding part has been a long while coming, but that’s mainly because I didn’t get any more time to jot anything down while I was there, so this is the condensed version from memory. I mainly just want to include it for myself so that I can look back and remember, that’s basically the point of my entire blog really. So here it is, part three:

Where was I? Ah yes, Toulouse. Toulouse is big and busy and easy to get lost in. Boyf didn’t like it at all. We took some photographs at Pont Neuf and strolled back through the city towards the car. I almost had a bit of a Marilyn moment over a large grid in front of a crowded café. Back in the horrible car park, we were accosted by scary tramp man. We left in our car quickly. On the way out of Toulouse, a lunatic driver smashed into a parked Mercedes and then almost reversed into us. Boyf - who is very prone to road rage - was surprisingly calm. He was glad to see the back of the place, but I’m glad we visited it and there were some pretty sights to take in there.


The next day we went to Albi, primarily for the flea market that we never found (perhaps it was a literal flea market and they were shopping for new dogs to inhabit or carrying bags of groceries, too tiny for us to see? Don't look at me like that.) The Cloisters at Albi are really pretty and we preferred it to Toulouse, even though the church, known as God’s Aircraft Carrier, is quite ugly - some of the interior looks a bit 60’s to me. Anyway it was meant to look ugly apparently, to scare people into being pious. Good old religion eh? We dined at this little cabin thing by the river, which was crap and took FOR EVER. We then zoomed back to the villa and had a dip in the pool to cool down. We’d done the same the day before - the weather got really hot and sticky in the last week.

After washing my hair in cold water (the hot water would run out really quick) we decided to go out for dinner and got our glad rags on. It was still boiling hot so I wore my long white skirt and a pink silk top. We drove into one of the local villages (past Fabi Dog, a superbly named dog salon) and found a hotel with a lovely outside eating area and sat next to the fountain. We ordered our steak well done and the chef ran it through a lukewarm room. The French do not like cooking things well done and have their steak bloody, which makes me retch. I tried to eat some but it’s all chewy and fleshy. I feel sick thinking about it. The starters and pudding were nice, but we went home hungry, deciding to stop ordering steak in French restaurants. On our way home we drove through the gorgeous sunflower fields that surround the place we’re staying. Beautiful! They look so sunny and happy.

The next day we had a chilled day by the pool. We also went and stocked up on supplies and checked out another nearby village that the guys thought might be a good fishing spot. Then we went for a walk and took that photo of me trying to push the hay bale Guillermo :P

The day after a couple of us went back to Albi. We bought scrumptious ice creams and ate them sitting in the Cloisters. It started to drizzle (despite still being really warm) so we went and visited the Henri Toulouse-Lautrec museum. My shoes squeaked really loudly on the new floors in the lower part of the building. It had undergone fairly recent restoration; the upper floors were all creaky and uneven but old and more fitting. I bought postcards. Boyf was going to fish while we were there too, having drooled over the giant catfish on our previous visit, but wasn’t sure if it was allowed and didn’t fancy having to explain himself to the authorities in French. A sweet old French couple carrying a big ancient camera with a huge flash offered to take a picture of us on my digital camera as we left the museum, but the woman had no idea how to work it and we eventually just pretended that it had worked and thanked them very warmly. They were nice. So since we were being all cultured like, we stopped at a couple of wine places and brocantes on the way back to the villa and my boyfriend was delighted to find this self service wine pump:

Tres classy! We decided against buying any. When we got back it looked like it was going to storm so we went kite flying. Duh. Boyf then got the kite stuck on the roof. Overall, not a very clever afternoon.

The next day, after obligatory pool time, I accompanied my boyfriend to the bank of the River Tarn. I read Christina Crawford’s Mommy Dearest and he caught three fish, had his photo taken with them and then threw them back to swim another day. We also played spot the noisy frog:

Then came our last full day in France. After the boyfriend’s triumphant day fishing, The Men wanted to go back to the River, so we girls went too and sunbathed. Then we went for a wander in the sunflower fields and had our last dip in the pool, which ended in catastrophe when a dead rat was discovered and everybody scattered. I know. It just mars the entire thing doesn’t it really? Our little idyll just completely lost its innocence in that moment. It was very definitely time to go home.

Now this is out of sequence as I’ve only had the photographs to go on since I stopped making notes, but at some point amongst all this Boyf got stung on the hand by a wasp while using the outside shower, and we spent two nights watching fantastic electric storms, which we also caught on video. We played lots of Trivial Pursuit, ate loads of pistachios and drank lots of red wine. The storms were amazing and among my best memories.

In the morning we were up early for our drive to Le Havre. At this moment you need to conjure up the sounds of Chris Rea’s The Road to Hell should you want to imagine any part of this ten hour car journey. Curiously enough, we videoed quite a lot of it, well about five minutes which is a long time to be looking at road on a TV screen. Blur, George Michael, and Queen can be heard from the CD player, but you should still be hearing Chris Rea. I spent the ten hours with a map spread across my knee, and at one point my face when trying to turn it over. There was some light relief when we stopped for a pee break (ho hum.) I told my travelling companion we should probably dig out some toilet paper from our luggage before we went. She went ahead of me and I followed her over, going into the stall next to hers, where I pronounced the words: “Oh My God, are you having a laugh?!” and she broke into fits of giggles, having been awaiting my reaction. The loo was literally just a hole in the floor with two ridged bits for you to stand in and, well, squat. “Have you been?” I asked. To which she replied that she had. “How?” I wondered, so she came in and demonstrated her technique. I was worried they wouldn’t have any loo roll, they haven’t even got any loo’s! WTF? So elegant. When we FINALLY! got to Le Havre, we checked into our hotel and went looking for somewhere to eat. We eventually found a pizzeria with very expensive beer. Then we went back to our room, had a nightcap and settled down for some much needed sleep.

The following day we got up early (again!), had breakfast and boarded the ferry. When we got there we decided to use what was left of our cash to go Club Class and paid for a cabin. The guy at the reception desk was just like Marjorie Dawes from Fat Fighters, played by Matt Lucas in Little Britain. Boyf asked what came with the room, but the guy got distracted so I said “Dust!” This became our catchphrase for about the next six weeks. Apologies to all who know us. In our cabin we were excited to find dressing gowns, but decided that Brittany Ferries are much better than P&O cos you get a mini fridge :P Boyf immediately donned a robe and I used one of my scarves to fashion a cravat for him, which we found very amusing in our own little way. In the Club Class lounge we could have one glass of complimentary champagne each, and more tea, coffee, and shortbread than you could shake a stick at! The journey went much faster, and we were suddenly in England again, listening to Live 8 on the radio. And that’s where the story picked up again…

Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen

Just time to wish my other niece a Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday Tink!

Yes, it's been an expensive month for me!

Happy 18th Birthday Pebbles!

My niece is 18 years old today! Happy Birthday babe!

Learning to Juggle

How do people manage to have full time jobs and lives of their own? I mean, really, it's my niece Pebbles' 18th birthday on Friday, and I haven't shopped. I'm going away Saturday morning, and I haven't shopped. Nor will I start packing until Thursday night (maybe), I have two jobs to apply for tonight, plus it's my other niece's 16th birthday next week, and I haven't shopped (I need to get her present before I leave for France.) Plus I discovered, thanks only to a chance conversation with Potter, that it's my responsibility to find someone to cover my late night next week because I'm off. Which sucks because you basically have to ask for a favour every time you want time off. Am debating whether to inflict the Foot Fetish Perv on Potter. Oh, and I have to squeeze some time with my Snuggle Bunny in before I say au revoir for a whole week.

What do teenage girls like these days? I mean, apart from tequila and excessive dieting? Jewellery is always a good idea on big birthdays, but I have such different taste from Pebbles. Also we have the problem of The Event. Me and mine are currently at war with my sister's husband, otherwise known as The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. As plans currently stand, we may be going for an Italian, which should be fine because Grinch doesn't like Italian food. And if he does come, I could always sprinkle his carbonara with arsenic? Oops. You didn't hear that!

Had a funny moment with Foot Perv recently actually. I was helping some girl with the photocopier and he came to take over since it was my break, but she was photocopying pictures of men's bits - purely for medical purposes I understand. When Toes lifted up the page he was like "Oh!" and made all funny embarrassed noises in his throat. His face was a picture! I wonder if he was thinking "Why doesn't mine look like that?!"*

A horrible man came in yesterday and was really rude and aggressive to the lovely Hoggle. He was so obnoxious I wanted to slap him, and you really couldn't find a nicer person than Hoggle, so I really hope something Karmic, and preferably with very big teeth, bites him in the ass.

By the way, sorry MJ, I totally meant to post this link days ago (don't click on it when your boss is making the rounds... unless he's a W&G fan.)

*Speculation, for humorous purposes only and not intending to suggest that I have any actual knowledge of the state of Foot Perv's wanger.

Chase me, chase me!

Tagged by Wondy.

The Rules:
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same.

My sentence is rubbish! "And she made the staple diet joke, perfectly unconcerned."

No fair, I was so close to having an excuse to post a pic of Jeremy Edwards in the shower! Ah, screw it.

My 22nd post has for it's fifth line: "Well, maybe if Jeremy Edwards walked into my room looking like he does on my desktop (for the ladies) I'd Save as Draft."

Now that's a sight for sore eyes! Look at those shoulders! You know, I didn't even fancy Jezzy when he was on Hollyoaks, and I must have been in my early teens, around the time you fancy anything that moves/has good hair. He has definitely improved with age. Or maybe I just never saw him in the shower before? HOT. I'm good to you aren't I?

I tag anyone who feels like playing. MJ, I know you'll want to play but I don't know if you have 23 posts?!

Screwed

Boyf and I have been attempting a romantic week-long break in France for a while now. We agreed the date as 8th October and set about arranging our busy schedules around it. I booked the time off work, planned to shop in advance (didn't work, not sure what I'll be wearing now), and as of yesterday the ferry is booked and we have 2 possible cottages awaiting our arrival (still to be decided.) All sounds pretty sorted apart from the fact that I now have to go without him, because his stupid boss won't give him next week off. In fact, to add insult to injury he is sending him to work away next week and offered him this week off. He does this on purpose; he's such a hater. So I'm off to France as a third wheel. Whatever, it's better than cancelling the time off.

Last week Potter and I were discussing The Turn of the Screw. He asked me if I'd read it and then we both expressed how long it takes to read, despite being a really short novel. It's not even like the language is archaic or difficult; I think it's the syntax he uses, but for whatever reason, it just takes a long time to process. I had to read it in a few days for uni so I probably missed all kinds of significant bits, as it's something you need to take your time over. I remember the boyfriend was scared of the cover and used to make me hide it of a night, which reminds me of Friends when Joey kept The Shining in the freezer (and when I accidentally tore an arm off a teddybear when I was younger and hid it in the wardrobe.) I wish I had more time for reading. There are so many books I haven't read yet and so many that are crying out for a re-reading. Maybe I'll take a book to France to keep me warm since I'll be flying solo.

In other news, Potter attended a fondue party last night. Who knew the 70's were back?

From Henry James to the X Factor. We watched it last night, being the crazy kids we are. We so need to get a life! It was Saturday night for goodness sake! It can be pretty funny but I don't know if it will ever top the high point of the series so far, which has been the two Welsh girls that were on it a few weeks ago. They made me laugh out loud. Simon (of the Cowell) told one of them (go on, guess!) that she looked like Vicky Pollard. When they were interviewed afterwards, she was pretty angry and complained that Simon had no room to talk, since "he's not all that", to which her friend nonchalantly replied, to my complete amazement, "Oh I dunno, I'd still do him like!" Class.

Quote of the week: "I can't remember the last time I rubbed my eyes." Lila, on wearing mascara.

The One

Recently I had a conversation with someone about life's funny coincidences. We all have our own experiences of them, little twists of fate that seem perfectly random yet they reunite us with old friends or drop an opportunity into our laps. One of the first movies I went to see on a date was Sliding Doors. I really liked the concept of the movie, that just by missing a train the course of our whole lives could change. It can be a bit scary too if you think about the implications of every decision we ever make. For example, seeing that film inspired my friend Li to copy Gwyneth's hairstyle, and she looked fab. But if I had made the same decision? Now that would have been SCARY.

One of the most bizarre coincidences that ever happened to me was when I was 17. Years before, I'd picked up an old astrology book at a second hand book fair. It was full of all kinds of things, about mapping your birth chart (the position of the planets when you were born), numerology, handwriting analysis etc. The numerology section used your name and birthdate to give you an insight into your character and the possibilities for your future. Now, it's not that I'm a great believer in this sort of thing but I try to keep an open mind and mostly I just think it's a bit of fun. Ultimately, I think we all control (to a certain extent) who we are and where we're going. Anyway, a few weeks after I met the love of my life I came across the book again tucked away in a storage crate at the back of my wardrobe. I told my boyfriend about the fun, silly nights I'd had with my friends trying out all the different things in there and he asked me to tell him his future. The easiest thing to do was the numerology of his name and birthdate, so I turned to that section and got out a pen and paper. Then I noticed something and could not believe what I saw. There was no need for me to work out the numerology of my boyfriend's name. It was already in the book as the example they used to show you how to do it. My boyfriend didn't believe me and thought I was playing a trick on him at first. It's not like he has the most unusual of names, but I still think it's kind of funny that even though I didn't know it at the time, an astrology book I picked up second hand told me the name of my first love.