Monday, 30 June 2008

The birthday party

The sun was shining for a special girls fourth birthday party.

This way everybody!

The dressing up room.

The bouncy castle.

Who would like a slice of birthday cake?

The best place for a swing.

The lake at the bottom of the garden.

Friday, 27 June 2008

Sorry, I didn't see you there

Are you one of these fortunate people who wake up in the morning and can see perfectly? Are you nodding your head and your twenty-twenty vision in agreement? Or perhaps you are shaking your head and your spectacles in disagreement.
I'm sorry to say, my eye sight is limited. In fact, it would be true to say, I could write a book about my eye sight and experiences due to my less than perfect vision. But instead of writing a book, I shall try to condense the perils of poor vision to one blog entry.
I visited the opticians today, for the umpteenth time in my life. Since I had a dose of blepharitis (inflamed eyelids) I'm always wary about eye tests and the outcome. "No blepharitis today," the optician informed me. Phew. That's one consolation. It's a very painful condition. So painful that I had to wear sunglasses in the office, as any kind of light was excruciating for my eyes, until the eye drops and anti-biotics kicked in, and my eyes stopped stinging and weeping.
I remember attending a very important office meeting in my sunglasses, and colleagues looking at me in disbelief. I'm sure they were thinking, "Look at her, she thinks she's some kind of celebrity." I tried to explain to as many people as possible that I had blepharitis, but I think that only made matters worse.
After this horrible eye infection I stayed clear of contact lenses for ages and stuck to my glasses. Until I got fed up with wearing my glasses and decided daily disposable lenses were the future (and hygienic). If you wear contacts, I'm sure you'll appreciate life is nicer in contact lenses, and you can see better.
The first ever time I wore contact lenses was at my cousins birthday meal at a bowling alley. I couldn't believe how clear the world was. "This is how normal people can see!" If only I'd known. If only I'd realised. Still, I was loving my new eye sight, until I couldn't get the darn lenses out.
After the birthday meal I joined some friends at a house party. After a few hours of talking and drinking, I remembered I was only suppose to wear the contacts for a short space of time, for my eyes to become accustomed to them. I disappeared to the bathroom to remove them. No sweat, I thought. They'll be out in a second or two, popped in my case, with solution, and I can re join the party.
My friends came looking for me after about forty five minutes. I was close to tears. "I can't get them out!" I wailed. My dear friends tried to help me by poking their fingers in my eyes, in the hope of removing them. This time I really was in tears. Tears of agony. We were in that bathroom for a very long time. We had to explain the situation to impatient people knocking on the door, and much to their disgust they had to use the downstairs toilet. The contact lenses eventually came out. Looking back, I'm not quite sure how I / we found it so difficult. But trust me, it was a mission at the time.
I have many other tales to tell regarding my eyes, but we could be here all day. So I'll finish it here, with one last short story.
In my past life, in the flat that time forgot, I was getting sick and tired of people coming and going and making too much noise whilst I was trying to sleep. One night I'd had enough of lying in bed, listening to the commotion, and trying to drift off. It takes a lot to wind me up, and on this particular night I was very wound up.
How inconsiderate these people were. Banging on the door, stomping up the stairs, raising their voices. Night after night this was happening and I had to do something about it.
I shot out of bed, shot into the hallway, practically shaking with anger, poked my head around the lounge door (remember, I had no glasses on or no lenses in) and I shouted, "For crying out loud, will you shut up or go home!" And I swore. (Sorry mum.) Everyone has a breaking point, and I broke that night. It's the only time I have ever shouted in the flat, in a peace protest.
After shouting, there was a deathly silence. Oh good, I thought, I think boyfriend and his tiresome friends Blah and Blah have got the message. They weren't really called Blah and blah, but their names are irrelevant. Anyway, I didn't find out until the next day that it wasn't Blah and Blah standing in the lounge. It was two police officers. And they were gob smacked that I had spoken to them in such an appalling manner. So was I when I realised my error! Whoops. Blame it on the eye sight. It's got me into all sorts of trouble.

I hope you all have a great weekend. Remember not to be rude to any police officers. If you can see them.

Picture of the day:

Fox gloves.

Thursday, 26 June 2008

Old habits

If I asked my lovely friends to describe me, I have a funny feeling they would mention such things as: Likes to take photographs, has a deep rooted fascination with George Michael, not very good at parking her car, eats a lot of cheese, and last but not least - her bags are always on the large size.
I'm a large bag junkie. In my defence, I do spend a high percentage of my life sleeping in friends spare rooms and on friends sofas, therefore I need a relatively large bag to hold my cosmetics and spare clothes. Plus, my reading material at the time, brolly, diary, purse, camera, mobile phone, and so the list goes on. I do not travel light. I am definitely a 'just in case I need it' kind of girl.
Recently this not being able to travel light fact has got on my nerves. And it's been hurting my shoulder.
I've been rather frustrated with not being able to allocate anything in my large bag. It was only the other day I announced to the sales manager in the lift, "I've forgotten my purse!" I spent an hour feeling distressed at the thought of no money for any mid afternoon snacks, and trying to convince myself that I must have left my purse on my bed and not in the middle of the road. Then I found my purse - at the bottom of my bag. It was there all along! Mischievously hiding from me. It's not the first time this has happened. "I know it's here somewhere," I have said many a time, with my head inside my bag and my hands desperately rummaging through the millions of contents.
Enough is enough. I can't cope with the panic attacks every time I think I've lost something, and the hours wasted with my head and hands in my bag, and the shoulder ache from the colossal weight of my large bag.
So, can you guess what I bought yesterday? Go on, I dare you, see if you can predict my purchase.
Nope, it wasn't a caravan, or a rubber tree plant. Do I look like I have money to buy a caravan? And although I agree a rubber tree plant would look good in my room, I didn't buy one. Guess again please. Did I hear someone say the mortal words: "new, smaller bag?" Well done! You have guessed correctly. See me after this post for a small prize.
I am now the owner of a brown bag. A brown bag which is rather compact compared to my usual standard size. I must say I am very pleased with this purchase. My shoulder is thanking me for it too.
I'm looking at this bag now, admiring the colour, size and style. I'm now looking at other girls bags in the office. Hmm. My new bag may be considerably smaller than my normal size, but compared to other bags in the office, it's not exactly petite. However, it's a step in the right direction for carrying less things and preventing repetitive strain injury. It's still quite big though. Oh well, I guess I can still use it when I kip in my friends spare rooms and on their sofas.
What's that saying which springs to mind? Arr, that's it - old habits die hard.

Pictures of the day:

After the shops I went to the park.

My feet and new bag at the park.

Tuesday, 24 June 2008

What's for dinner?

Warning - this post could seriously make you hungry.
I love food shopping days. Just when the contents of the cupboards and fridge are looking rather bare and sorry for themselves, and snacks are stretching the wildest of imaginations, along comes food shopping day.
I can’t say I’m a fan of huge supermarkets though. I’m talking about the HUGE supermarkets where you could loose yourself for a day amongst signs saying ‘buy one, get one free!’ Huge supermarkets where my mother could spend a whole day in one aisle alone, pointing at everything and picking everything up to inspect. No offence mum, but you do like to take your time.
Personally, I prefer to do shopping on a smaller scale. When I lived in my flat, I would whiz around the local supermarket (large enough to cater for my needs but not large enough to spend a two week holiday in the cheese section) with my shopping list in hand, planning meals and snacks for the week ahead, and often tutting at the price of cleaning products. See, I used to think to myself, this is how you shop at speed and eat at leisure.
These days (back at my parents house) it’s often my father who buys the weekly shop, on a Saturday, whilst I’m at the gym and my mother is busy with other chores. I think he finds it cheaper to shop in the absence of our presence, otherwise we’d be pointing at all sorts of unnecessary bargains (my mother would be doing most of the pointing) and the till receipt would be very long indeed.
Sometimes, like yesterday for instance, my parents will go to a near by shopping centre and ‘pop’ into Marks and Spencers on the way home. My mother will use the word ‘pop’ but I know from past experience that she finds it very difficult to just ‘pop’ into shops. Which is why I have virtually nil hope of hurrying her along in those huge supermarkets. They must be avoided, if possible, especially if one is hungry and the sight of all that food is making ones mouth water and ones stomach sound like a bubbling, erupting volcano.
So yesterday, after a busy day in the office, I patiently waited for my mother to finish ‘popping’ around M&S. It was worth the wait.
Carrier bag after carrier bag was brought in from the car, and I set to work unpacking and admiring.
“Mmm, crumpets!” I said excitedly. “And French fancies!” I'd found the carrier bag which was stacked full of bright colours and high fat contents.
“Strawberries and grapes, lovely,” I said, as I found the healthy option bag. Pink and yellow cakes are all very well, but we need our vitamins too.
“What’s for dinner?” I then asked, the hunger pangs had grown rapidly after packing away the food.
“It’s your favourite pasta dish,” was my mothers response. How lucky was I? This confirmed my love of food shopping days, as I set the table and hovered around the frying pan.
Here’s my dinner below. It’s a no frills pasta dish, consisting of beef, tomatoes, onions and cheese. And it’s delicious. Yellow, pink and brown cakes were our dessert.

What have you got for dinner tonight?

Pictures of the day:

My fav pasta dish.

French fancies.

Monday, 23 June 2008

The Sunday fun day

This is my local park.

Sunday was fun day at my local park.

I didn't attempt this ride, have you seen the price of petrol these days?

A cup of tea would be nice though.

The Sunday roast at a local restaurant. The perfect finish to the day.

Friday, 20 June 2008

77 years old

There is no need to punish me. As I suggested yesterday, you may have concocted some form of punishment if I was to break my promise and have another late night.
Hopefully you were not thinking of anything too severe, such as walking over burning coals or jumping out of an aeroplane without a parachute. But I shall not be doing either, as I am proud to announce - yesterday evening I was in my bed at sensible o’clock as opposed to silly o’clock.
And before this earlyish night, what an eventful evening it was. I played tennis, baseball and ten pin bowling. This all took place in my dear friend Chamelles lounge, thanks again to technology.
I’m also glad to report, my sporting skills are slightly better than my driving skills. Even though my fitness level said I was a 77 year old woman! Erm, I’m not 77 yet! I excused myself by blaming tiredness and central heating. Then my friend and I tucked into chocolate cake and carrot cake and I headed home for bed.
77 years old! That’s frightening. I’ve got another 43 years to go before all my teeth fall out and I can have 77 candles on my birthday cake.
There must be something wrong with the computer.

Happy weekend to you all.

Picture of the day:

Heavenly blue.

Thursday, 19 June 2008

The longest day in history

It’s been a very, very long day today. I’m sure that someone has been playing a naughty trick on me. I’m convinced that while I wasn’t looking, this trickster thought it would be funny to turn back time. What other explanation is there for the longest day in history?
I suppose the fact that I am tired could be playing an essential part in this long day. Tired as a result of a late night with my friend Claire last night. I must stop doing this during the week, but it’s too darn tempting sometimes.
My friend Claire now lives in a charming village in the next county. “I could live here!” I found myself saying. Actually I say that a lot. “How much do you think that house would cost?” I enquired, as I pointed at a tiny but cute cottage. “An absolute fortune,“ was my friend’s reply. In other words, even in a debt-free life I wouldn’t be able to afford it. Okay, maybe I couldn’t live here.
“I could live here too!” was my reaction to my friends pent house suite in this charming village. Impressively large and stylish it is. I immediately imagined myself strolling through the rooms, with a glass of wine in my hand, and cooking an amazing but surprisingly simple meal in the kitchen.
“Wow, this is my dream kitchen,” I said, as we entered the kitchen.
Pasta, salad and wine were enjoyed in my dream kitchen. We then moved into the living room to spread out on the sofas and watch Big Brother. Big Brother was pure background noise of course, our conversation was far more interesting.
“I love this room too,” said I, with regards to the living room. “And look at the view of the lake!” The view of the lake was very pleasant and relaxing.
Yep, I think you could say I approve of my friends new living accommodation. One small matter though – I do wish we’d gone to bed earlier. All that talking, enthusiasm and lack of sleep has worn me out. It’s been a very, very long day.
But at long last, I’m off to the train station, and I have another dinner date at another friends house tonight. Do I ever learn? However, I have promised myself – I will go to bed at a sensible time tonight. You have my word on that. Otherwise, feel free to dish out some kind of punishment for my lack of will power and my stupidity. I’ll let you know how it goes!
One last thing, if I find the culprit who turned back time today, I’ll have a few words to say to him. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. It's a dirty trick and I'm not finding it funny at all.
See you tomorrow, dearest readers.

Picture of the day:

In the garden too.

Wednesday, 18 June 2008

Not boring, stable

I liked that comment – not boring, stable. That was one of the comments on the ‘gimme five’ meme in the last post. After writing this post I pondered on two of the questions - five places you have lived and five jobs you have had.
I’m 35 years old in October (why do I do that? I always insist on saying how old I will be on my next birthday) and I have lived in the same county and worked in the same profession. Am I dull? I couldn’t help questioning myself.
Whatever happened to running away with the circus and travelling around the world? Or becoming famous and travelling around the world in a private jet, dripping in diamonds and (fake) fur coats? Actually, I have never wanted to run away with the circus or become famous, but can you see where I’m going with this?
When you’re a little girl, or a little boy, or maybe you’re confused about your gender and you’re just little, you can’t help dreaming about growing up and wondering what life has in store for you. For a brief part of my childhood I wanted to be a teacher and live in a castle, how unrealistic I was! After that I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to be when I grew up, I was too busy having fun and growing up.
When I reached senior school and parents and teachers were mentioning the words ‘exams’ and ‘careers’ I knew I had to reconsider my future. My maths was appalling, surely any sensible school would never want me teaching their pupils if I couldn’t do basic arithmetic. And the cost of purchasing and living in a castle would be astronomical.
Work experience was looming and a folder was passed around my form class, with options and suggestions. In this folder I read about theatre design and window dressing. I remember thinking, now there’s two things that would make me get out of bed in the morning (and you know how hard that is, dear readers). So I applied for both vacancies for my work experience, with a third option of working at a kennels. I was not successful with my requests. I was sent to a shoe shop for two weeks.
But theatre design and window dressing stayed in my mind and I wrote to local theatres and department stores regarding apprenticeships. Unfortunately my replies were negative. However, my disappointment did not last long, my mother spotted an advert in a local newspaper for a junior production controller, based at a local magazine publishing house.
Allow me to let you into a tiny secret, one of my favourite things to do when I was a youngster was to create my own magazine. Sometimes with a friend in my bedroom and sometimes for a friend in my bedroom. I loved designing front covers, and inventing problem pages and horoscopes, and cutting out pictures of hunky pop stars and fashion models. I amused myself for hours.
So it was rather apt that the first job vacancy I ever applied for was at a magazine publishers. And I was called in for an interview, which happened to be on the same day as my Maths GCSE (I’d rather keep the grade to myself) and I was offered the job there and then!
The rest, as they say, is history. I’ve never been tempted to change careers (yet), hence my answer to the ‘gimme five’ meme.
These publishing jobs have not brought me fame and fortune, so I haven’t been able to buy my castle. Or any property for that matter. Not with the debts I’ve accumulated and house prices these days.
But if I squint my eyes and lean forward in my chair, I can see a distant light in the future. A distant light which is called September. I finish paying for a substantial loan, from my past life, in September. The next dim light is called June 2009, if I remember correctly. This is when I finish paying for my other loan. Okay, this June 2009 light is very dim at the moment, and even through squinting I am yet to see it, but it’s out there.
There is hope for me yet, to pay past debts off, and branch out and live in my fourth place. A place to call my own. Or a place to call my own with (hopefully one day) my knight in shining armour. If he ever comes along. Sigh. Where are you Mr Knight?
I can’t help day dreaming about this fourth place. In my day dream I am laughing and I’m tall and thin (why not, it’s my day dream) and I have a huge kitchen to cook in and entertain my family and friends. With a log fire and a Lhasa Apso dog. Not forgetting the acres of land with a greenhouse, vegetable and herb garden, and many beautiful and exotic trees, plants and flowers.
Hmm. Okay, I’ll just settle for a flat / house I can afford.
I haven’t decided on the location of this property yet. Essex, surrounded by my family and my Essex friends? Or perhaps it’s time I broadened my horizons.
But please don't call me boring if I decide my fourth place of habitat will be in the same county. Remember (and I've been told this!) I’m not boring. I’m stable.

Picture of the day:

Growing in the garden.

Monday, 16 June 2008

Gimme five!

Gimme five! I've been tagged by my friend:
and it's all associated with the number five.

The rules:
1. Post the rules of the game at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they've been tagged and asking them to read the player’s blog.
4. Let the person who tagged you know when you've posted your answer.

What were you doing five years ago?

I'd just returned from the stunning island of Mauritius, where my friend held her wedding ceremony on one of the beautiful beaches. Unfortunately she is in the middle of a divorce now.
I was also planning my forthcoming wedding, as my boyfriend proposed to me in Mauritius. I’m afraid that didn’t last either. But I’d rather not dwell on it.

What are five things on your to-do list for today?

1. Book an eye test and find out what cost reduction I’m entitled to through my company.
2. Update the advertisers database, so when my not-so-new boss returns tomorrow, I can say that all records are accurate and up to date.
3. Speak to the printers in Amsterdam to check everything is okay with the newspapers they are printing for us. And hope they speak fluent English.
4. E-mail my friends to see how their weekends were.
5. Find my sunglasses.

What five snacks do you enjoy?

1. Cheese and crackers.
2. Cheese on toast.
3. Doritos with cheese sauce. (Do you notice a cheese theme?)
4. Chocolate mini eggs.
5. Carrots and celery with low fat hummus. (I can do healthy snacks too!)

What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?

1. Buy property. A farmhouse in rural Essex / Suffolk with acres of land to grow my own food and hold garden parties and barbecues. I would also like a cottage in the Cotswolds and a villa in the South of France.
2. Travel the world, taking photographs and writing about my adventures. I would set up my own publishing company to produce books containing these travel tales and photographs.
3. Ensure my money helped others in less fortunate circumstances than myself. For example, helping the homeless and men and women who wanted to further their education and training but were not in a position to do so. It would be a charity to restore faith in those who had suffered financial and emotional set backs in their lives, and create a brighter, happier future for them.
4. Build a rescue home for suffering animals, with highly skilled staff to heal and nurture them.
5. Eat out constantly at expensive and exclusive celebrity hangouts, until I bumped into George Michael and built a lasting and solid relationship with him. Okay I may be the wrong sex, but I’d be the best friend he’d ever had!
I could then take singing lessons and sing on his tours and albums. Or I could be his official photographer. Just a couple of ideas I’ve had George!
Phew, I'd be busy if I was a billionaire.

What are five of your bad habits?

1. Getting out of bed at the last possible moment. I don’t know what happens to me in the mornings, it often feels like I need a crane to physically remove me from my bed.
2. Comfort eating and then feeling desperately guilty about the calories I’ve consumed and my lack of self-discipline.
3. My absent mindedness. “Mum, have you seen my keys / book / sunglasses?” Delete where appropriate.
4. Drinking too fast. Sometimes I need to slow down and stop living my life at a hundred miles an hour.
5. Not opening my post until pay day. Frequently I can't cope with looking at bank statements, visa card bills, etc, until I know it's pay day and I can resolve them for a month.

What are five places you have lived?

Right, this is where it gets dull. I have only lived in three different buildings, and two of them were in the same town.
1. My first family home in Essex with my first childhood memory - refusing to go to bed, running around the vegetable patch and being stung by a wasp on my big toe.
2. My second family home in Essex. This was literally around the corner to my first family home.
3. A flat in the next town with my boyfriend-at-the time and his friends. His friends were constantly moving in and staying over. Sometimes I would walk around the flat, peering into rooms, so I could see who was living with us.
4. I’m now back in my second family home.
5. See billionaire question for future home ideas. How optimistic I am!

What are five jobs you've had?

Again, my answers are a little dull as I’ve only ever worked in publishing. But each company has produced different publications, and comes with it’s own story to tell.
1. Hobby magazines. Whilst working for this company, I once left the office at 2am, due to launching a new magazine.
2. Travel guides. Here I was able to travel to Earls Court in London, to work on our exhibition stand at The World Travel Show. Alas, I was struck down with food poisoning (I was very ill) on the first night of the show. Unfortunately I didn’t travel as far as Alaska or Zimbabwe, which were two of the places the travel guides featured on, but I lived in hope, until they made me redundant.
3. Top shelf magazines. Hated this job after the first day and would feel physically sick as I entered the offices each morning. I was completely misled in the interview. I thought I would be working on the top beauty and fashion magazines, and may have to help out on the top shelf titles when short staffed. How wrong that was! Left as soon as I could.
4. Computer magazines. Great job but press day was on a Friday which wasn’t ideal. I was always the last person in the office, waiting for film from the reprographics house to send to the printers. Received a generous bonus from this company and a generous redundancy pay out. Blew all the money on clothes and holidays - I was young and foolish then. Now I'm old and foolish!
5. My present job where I have travelled to Cannes, Barcelona and Singapore to attend technology conferences. And I’ve moved desks nine times. And they haven't made me redundant yet!

Five people I tag:

Plus anyone who reads this and would like to complete the answers.

Picture of the day:

Iced ginger.

Wednesday, 11 June 2008

A not so ordinary Wednesday

I thought today was going to be another ordinary Wednesday. Oh how wrong I was.
I dragged my body out of bed this morning, dragged it into the bathroom to wash, and forced breakfast into my mouth (I don’t have much of an appetite in the mornings but I have to eat something to prepare myself for the over-crowded trains). I then trudged to the train station, my head already spinning with thoughts of office tasks that need completing in my bosses absence. During my train journeys, I attempted to read my new book, 'It could happen to you', to empty my mind of office tasks, but I had a little doze instead.
I entered the office at 9am, fantasising about a mug of coffee whilst checking my emails. It was at this point that I noticed the two urgent texts on my mobile from my cousin Paul, and the voice mail from my cousin Sarah. I then logged on to my computer and an email flashed in my in-box from my cousin Paul, and the telephone rang on my desk, it was my cousin Sarah.
This could only mean one thing. One very important thing. George Michael has announced two new concert dates, in London, August bank holiday weekend!
I thanked the Lord that I had not booked my dream holiday in August, so therefore I am available on both of the nights he’s performing at Earls Court. Oh the unexpected delight! The incredible excitement! Our tickets have been ordered (the George appreciation is a family trait) and according to the seating plan we will have a very satisfactory view of the stage. Only 77 days to go.
Don’t you love it when that happens? There you are, half asleep, when out of the blue - BOOM! All it takes are a few choices words and you're walking on air with a stupid grin on your face, thinking what a wonderful world this is.
I’m easily pleased, aren’t I.

Picture of the day:

Can you play 'Faith' by George Michael?

Saturday, 7 June 2008

The summer fair

The summer fair was held in a local field.

With games

and fairground rides.

A Punch and Judy show

and giant cups and saucers.

Home-made cakes

and jams and vinegars.

The fudge was heavenly!

Other sweets and treats to tempt you.

Freshly squeezed lemonade to quench your thirst.

Time to go home. I think the bear was tired too!

Thursday, 5 June 2008

The peacock is back

“Sorry I’m late, but there were delays and disruptions on the trains, due to the discovery of an unexploded Second World War bomb.”
I can honestly say I have never said that before. I suppose it makes a change from signal problems. Tonight, I must remember to dash out the office at 5.30pm (shouldn’t be too difficult!) and hurry home before certain train lines are closed for the dismantling of the bomb. Never a dull moment hey!
I want to arrive home pretty sharpish anyway, as a trip to the gym is required before ‘Come Dine With Me’ is shown on the telly. I fear I may be bordering on obsessive behaviour with this television programme, I even watch the repeats at the weekend. Unless, of course, I am gallivanting across Essex.
Last night, I gallivanted to my favourite local public house with one of my favourite friends, Helen. As we roamed along the duck pond, making our way to the bar to order our food and drink, we nearly jumped out of our skins when we heard a very strange and loud squawk. The peacock was back. For those who do not like the feathered variety, please place your hand on the below photograph now!
I’m not sure how long the two pigs have been living with the peacock? We only discovered them last night and I couldn’t resist taking a picture of one of them. Although I must apologise for not photographing his face, but I couldn’t bear to stand there any longer. He smelt terrible! The smell actually made my friend and I feel queasy. And for once in my life, I am not exaggerating.
The stench did not ruin our appetites though, our usual meal and drinks were ordered, and we escaped to the outside tables to move as far away from the karaoke machine as possible. That’s right, karaoke on a Wednesday night in a country-side pub. No, we didn’t think it belonged there either! Nobody volunteered to sing, and we left the karaoke man singing along to himself (again) regarding artificial flowers and other such things.

Pictures of the day:

Do peacocks drink beer?

The smelly pig.

Tuesday, 3 June 2008

Did you see the size of that mushroom?

Last night I managed to crash into a brick wall, somersault into a sandpit and fall head-first into a river. I also bounced off a giant mushroom into the arms of a giant penguin, and shattered into a million unlucky pieces.
This all took place from my friend Chamelles sofa. Not bad hey. I was playing a computer game with her daughter, and I'm embarrassed to admit, I was utterly useless. Even my friends eleven year old daughter could not believe how rubbish I was. (I was at my friends house last night with birthday card and present for her daughter.)
"Mum!" she called to her mum, "Nikki is even worse than you!"
I just can't get the hang of those driving games. I'm far too heavy handed and I have great difficulty trying to stay on the track and not stray into unknown, deadly territory.
Whatever happened to 'Roland on the ropes' on the green screen Amstrad computer? If I do say so myself, I was fast and successful at this. Up and down the ropes I went, collecting treasure for points, and bullets to shoot the ghosts, bats and other not-very-scary-looking creatures. Computer games were pretty basic then, but I didn't humiliate myself playing them. Now they're far too technical and confusing!
Never mind, you can't be good at everything, can you?! I think I should stick to my card making. Far less dangerous.

Picture of the day:

Card making.

Monday, 2 June 2008

The unnecessarily large bar, the ten minute night club and drunken antics on the circle line

I have just been in the middle of an office discussion, regarding the tube party mayhem at the weekend. As from the 1st June 2008, the new London Mayor, Boris Johnson, has banned the consumption of alcohol on London transport.
This ban has caused outrage for some people, and via various ‘face book’ website groups, a ‘circle line party’ was organised for last Saturday night. The last Saturday night it was legal to booze on the London Underground. Alcohol, fancy dress and high spirits in confined spaces. Surprise, surprise it spiralled out of control.
Apparently thousands swamped the circle line, drunken mobs fought with tube staff and police, and train carriages were vandalised. Six underground stations had to be closed, several trains were taken out of service and 17 arrests were made. It makes you proud to be British!
Exactly what point did these idiotic people manage to make?!
Partying on the underground was the last thing on my mind Saturday night. I was far too busy staying in and watching the final of ‘Britain's Got Talent’. (Hmm, if I’d been riding the circle line perhaps I would have been watching ‘Britain's Got Drunk'.) I was also too tired to set foot outside the house, due to the night before.
The night before, my friend Laura and I went out for pizza. Pizza topped with mushrooms, cheese, tomato, and Italian herbs. And washed down with a bottle of Italian wine. Lovely. Lovely to see my friend Laura too. Although during our meal, we couldn’t help noticing the bar by our table was unnecessarily large.
After pizza and wine we headed to a night club. I can not for the life of me remember the last time I barged through the doors of a night club! Guess how long we stayed there? We stayed for the grand total of ten minutes. Enough time to buy a drink, shout at each other above the music, and feel too old for comfort. We decided to hail a cab to my friends house, where we could talk and drink in peace.
Who needs night clubs and drunken tube parties? Not me thanks. Give me pizza, wine, good company, and a kitchen table, and I’m happy.

I hope your weekend was a happy affair, dear readers.

Pictures of the day:

Has my friend shrunk or has the bar grown?

Friends! My hair doesn't look any different in this picture, but believe me it's blonder, shorter and neater.