day 7

It'll end in tears.

Jodie's chosen charity.

George thinks that Jodie has a persecution complex. She now feels that 8 of the housemates are constantly having a go at her. She has been looking for sympathy while slumped on the couch looking for hugs and attention. This is because she has been nominated. This is much more than a game to her. George, although shocked at the possibility that he could be the first out, has maintained a stoic silence on the matter. Pete the red head’s only worry is that he won’t have time to pack properly on eviction. Don’t forget his boyfriend is not there and the gorilla coat may put up a fight.

Preston, the squarest man in rock, thinks that Jodie & Pete love each other really. Obvious lunacy.

Rula told Jodie that she looks good without make-up. Subtle as a brick.

Traci feels that Jodie has kidnapped Chantelle so that she can feel her nomination pain. Like a birthing partner, except that Jodie is dying here. They were drunk in the Diary Room. So drunk that Jodie’s eyes were slits. Jodie has admitted that she needs the money and that’s the only thing stopping her from walking out. She has to stay, after all she supports 8 charities and gives generously to them.

Dennis is obviously looking to a career in Hollywood and has advised BB of segments worthy of inclusion in the final BB edit.

Pete, who is full of camp facts, had hissy fit No.2 when he was expected to wear flat shoes as part of a uniform in a lab experiment task but he is happy with the outfit as long as he can accessorise.

Michael has been shamelessly plugging a sit com that he appeared in as serious actor. This was in the good old days. No one has heard of it. I think he should become a therapist as he talks therapy speak non stop. He fears that Jodie’s negativity is impeding his recovery. It could set him back years, but maybe he’d get an episode of Extras written about him. In which he could star as a serious actor.

They gathered them all together at 8am to announce those up for eviction

George blinked. Election nights have probably been very good practice
Jodie cried within a minute
Pete grinned

Jodie, a glutton for punishment as we know, wanted to know who voted for her. Little does she know that 8 of them did! Pete told the group that he voted for her. I don’t think she heard. It was not edited out. Will he be penalised for discussing nominations?

Shopping Task
Lab based experiments. George is the lab assistant as they have voted him to be the smartest. He is in a position of authority and is clearly relishing his role and barking out orders.

Trouble is brewing over Pete’s reluctance to wear the flat shoes. It’s not just his face that has been altered. 18 years of heels have apparently deformed his calf muscles. Laydees, let that be a warning to you. The group fear that they will be penalised for this possible flouting of the rules.

‘Houston, I hope you are listening as we have a problem here’, George’s aside to BB about Pete not being willing to wear his shoes. It’s an international issue already. Is he mates with bush too then?

Rula tried to reason with Pete, surely she should know better by now, by saying that if she was prepared to wear them with her bad foot then he should too. Pete pointed out the fundamental flaw in her argument. He was not prepared to. End of! Pete told Rula to f**k off over it and over her accusation that he hogs the loo and uses it as his dressing room. If she is a real red head she will have the patience of a saint and forget about the insult, as long as it does not happen again too soon and without good reason.

Faria has to eat spinach to see if it will make her stronger. It made her cry. She didn’t want the cameras to see her cry. Doh. Rula, the aging hippy (just what I want to be) gave her a head massage. I bet she’d eat a raw spinach leaf in a salad at the Ivy. What’s the problem?

Preston threw up 3 times after eating 50 liquor chocolates in under 2 hours to see if it would make him tipsy. He completed the task accompanied by a bucket. It got tense towards the end and Michael attempted to stop Chantelle screeching in Preston’s face and to give him some space. Instead of seeing the sense in his words she was a defensive bird about it and gave him lip. Michael, bless, left the area to sob his heart out. He sees everything in direct parallel to his own downfall and it saddens him to watch her downward spiral. Before she is even a celebrity. The phrase respect is used often.

It’s getting unpleasant.

Jodie and Chantelle have segregated themselves. Rula said that Chantelle is under her spell. They go into the Diary Room together, they sit apart from the group and they follow each other like they are going to the ladies in an Essex nightclub. There is no doubt about it, Chantelle has changed and she is now miserable, rude and cocky. She has lost the charm and humour that initially won them all over and has morphed into Vicky Pollard. Whatever.

Pete feels that they are making a statement with their segregation and has decreed that they should make one too. A group discussion followed about the bad influence that Jodie has on Chantelle. Rula had a pop, so did Dennis and Traci (in an LA fashion). George called Jodie wicked and said that she has corrupted Chantelle. Pete called Jodie a scheming manipulative bitch. Maggot even had a few words although he wasn’t unpleasant.

Jodie naturally feels that they are ALL picking on her. She doesn’t see the problem with her and Chantelle being friends, so is not quite grasping the point. The group aim is integration, apart from Pete who just wants nothing to do with Jodie and was obscenely rude to her.

I will find a good link tomorrow for you all. During the debate George informed Chantelle of Michael’s tears and it appears that she is bothered. She went to sort it out. The boys followed and before long Chantelle was laughing again. Hurrah. She has been welcomed back into the community.

Jodie went to bed.

Of course this all happened yesterday. I just flicked over to the live coverage and Jodie was walking through the house, alone and dejected.

It’s going to end terribly.

I am going out tomorrow night. Who wants to deputise? I will tape it and catch up at the weekend too.

In case I don't see you tomorrow, tune in on Friday night for up to the minute updates.

AT LAST A HAVE AN EXCUSE!

In the year 2006 I resolve to: Become anti-social. Get your resolution here

day 6

Up for eviction.

Who voted for who?

Chantelle - Rula and George
Dennis - Preston and Jodie
Faria - Jodie and Pete
George - Jodie and Pete
Jodie - Pete and George
Maggot - Pete and Jodie
Michael - Dennis and Jodie
Pete - Jodie and George
Preston - George and Faria
Rula - Dennis and Jodie
Traci - Jodie and Preston

Chantelle, Maggot, Michael and Traci received no nominations.

Pete is now an honorary red head. I’d love to travel on the tube with him.

The nominations were dull dull dull!

Maggot provided a little light relief by maintaining that the group must remain upbeat and buoyant at all times. Not a chance of that in this war zone. Jodie was very sullen and moody in the Diary Room. Surprise surprise. George says that she drinks too much and suffers from hangovers during the day. He called Pete a housemate from hell and said that Pete talks crudely about sex all the time. They must be b***ping that all out. B*****ks. Dennis thinks that Preston is too square to be a rock star. He thinks that Jodie bitches too much. Faria is just plain dull. What was she thinking of going on the show at all? I had expected her to nominate Chantelle as she told her she should be number 11 in the queue of how famous they all are. Go on gal, although it’s a little premature for her to believe her own hype. Oh dear. Michael came out with a load of therapy speak and there were tears. He said that the tension reminds him of his upbringing. Jodie’s bringing him down man and is not one of his ‘kind of people’. Ba boom. Pete wouldn’t piss on Jodie if she was on fire. Faria reminds Preston too much of someone’s Mum. I agree, she has a very shrill voice. I bet he didn’t put that on his rider! Maybe once she goes he’ll turn it up to 11 man. Dennis has too much testosterone for Rula and Jodie too many hormones. Traci was very quick, bless I keep forgetting she’s in there.

Rula says that Pete has a sliver of the Frankenstein about him. Really?

Preston called George a socialist dictator. He constantly smokes cigars, which must stink.

3.36am Jodie is in tears again and has stormed off again. It’s too boring to go into to. Birds! Yuck!

tube rage / day 5

There I was with my head stuck in my new book ‘What I Loved’ with 2 young Vicky Pollard characters either side of me. They were very loud and playing music from their phones. Advances in mobile phones are one of the banes of my life. I could tell there would be trouble when they were very reluctant to move their things to let me sit down and when they started passing each other things behind my head and having a loud conversation mainly consisting of the word “Ginger Bread Man”. “Why don’t you go and sit next to her?” I said. “Why should I? Blah blah blah, ginger, blah blah blah ginger. Abuse abuse abuse.”. One stop later and I was boiling inside with the outrage of being persecuted for no reason. They were trying to provoke me into saying something that I did not want to say. Eventually I looked at the girl to my left and said “I’ve had enough”. “Blah blah blah, you don’t know who I am, you don’t know what I can do. Blah blah blah abuse abuse abuse. You think I’m gonna stop cos you’ve had enough. As if. Etc etc”.

Luckily I had only finished ‘Miss Smilla’s Feeling for Snow’ yesterday. I had strongly identified with her. She describes herself as a 37-year-old hag or old maid who fears intimate relationships with men or women but more importantly 2 bullies on the tube would not intimidate her. She’d be prepared with some sort of cunning plan in a relentless fight for justice. As the abuse continued, I slyly folded over my Guardian supplement 4 times making a superb weapon known as a Millwall brick. Just in case they carried out their threats you understand. I legged it to my next connection after telling them that they are " thick as pig shit". I wasn’t running from them, although I was intimidated. In my experience kids in their late teens have no idea how much damage they can cause. If I had wanted to avoid them I would have stayed on the tube. I was running for my train so that I could get back to report on Diary Room Uncut. But if something happens to me on the way home some time soon, get British Rail to check the CCTV footage of the escalator from the Victoria line to the exit and to look for the 2 well dressed black girls, aged approx 18 to 19. The 2 girls who fell over chasing me. Very Big Brother.

Diary Room Uncut……

Turns out that it was quite dull.
Jodie is not an emotional wreck OK. And it’s true that she’s only cried the once that I know of, so I’ll give her another shot. She admitted that she would give Preston one if he didn’t have a girlfriend.
Preston has spotted that she has taken a shine to him and soon kept dropping the fact that he has a girlfriend into conversations.
George hopes that Jodie’s father isn’t watching and asked if that is terribly old fashioned.
Rula’s worried about her.
Faria thinks that there are some show offs. Riveting.

Meanwhile, in real life Pete might get into trouble.

Day 4’s wake up call was “You Spin me Right Round”. Pete added live vocals and had a spin with Michael. Jodie awoke looking like a panda.

Pete and Michael slagged Jodie off AGAIN. She just can’t stop provoking them. She apparently talks non-stop sex and told them all about meeting a porn photographer over breakfast, even though they showed no interest. Pete, unbelievably, bit his lip. So did George, until later. George was actually appalled even though he’s “close to the street”. Maggot warned them that they will end up in her next book if they continue baiting her.

Faria thinks it’s OK to sleep with a man if they are not married. Long-term relationships don’t come into her code of ethics at all.

Dennis told Chantelle that they would have sex before they left the house. He also asked Jodie if she would take a Polaroid if she gave him a blowjob. It appears that he is over his jet lag at last.

Jodie made another BIG mistake. She said that Jordan’s nose looks hooked like a witch’s from the side. Oh oh. This will end in her tears.

Fur debate again. I won’t go on except to say that Pete has admitted that he gets off on it the more Jodie objects and George has taken an obvious dislike to Jodie and has called her primitive. Pete told Jodie that she doesn’t think about what she says before she says it and is not prepared to debate. Jodie stormed out of the room saying that everyone was picking on her. Birrrrdddddd, it was only Pete and George. Jodie says no one wants to talk to her about positive things but really they don’t want to hear about her 5000 porno Polaroids. Rula says that Jodie is putting out negative vibes so must expect them back. Coming from the Karma Queen, if she has lost her sympathy it must be bad in there. Preston and Maggot are trying to diffuse it all.

Jodie does not want to be evicted first, it would be her worst nightmare. George doesn’t think he will be first.

George thinks that Dennis is a sexual predator and I think he’ll chin him soon. Jodie stimulated sex with Dennis on the kitchen counter. She told him that she wants to suck on Pamela Anderson’s nipples and if it smelt and tasted good she would go down on her. She suffocated Maggot with her breasts. She and Chantelle waited in Preston’s bed for him. But she didn’t like it when Dennis got into hers. Hmmm. And yet still she doesn’t want people to believe the press’s depiction of her as the bird who gets her tits out in clubs.

Michael hardly featured at all.

day 4

Pete may turn out to be a Diary Room ranter. They screened a funny turn yesterday where he flew into a blind panic as he has never packed and unpacked a suitcase in his life. He feared that he would not be able to find his clothes without his boy friend there. I thought that they only let you have one? He got over it quickly enough and apologised for being ridiculous. As far as I can tell he’s holding his own over the repulsive coat, even though there was a kangaroo court over it. We don’t know the outcome yet. Despite the excesses of his plastic surgery he appears to have the most basic and rational arguments for everything. I should imagine that these were formed and developed while growing up a little different in Liverpool (I think). He’s been holding court and has apparently never had so many people tell him that’s he’s beautiful.

After a full nights sleep, Jodie’s lip liner is still apparent. It appears that she goes to bed fully made up.

Maggot looks deathly pale this morning. Goldie Looking Chains are notorious puffers and I’m sure that Maggot must be missing his king size Rizla.

Pete is drinking his tea through a straw.

Michael keeps singing Pete’s hit song. I fear a re-release. But I’m sure there would be competition for the Number 1 slot from Chantelle’s release 'I Want It Right Now'.

Dennis can now bring himself to sit next to Tracy and talk to her. Well, he doesn’t actually talk, he mumbles. And he mumbles at the speed of Mohammed Ali and as low in pitch as Marlon Brando. Jimbob, what does that make him?

Rula, a red head, not a ginge (xx) has committed another crime. Yesterday she covered her red hair with a black wig. I have found no rational explanation for this yet and I hope that one comes my way soon as I do like her. She talks a lot of sense and feels the same way about energy as me. She has great legs too and is beautiful first thing in the morning. She uses jimbob’s chant and has been joined by Jodie this morning. Jodie is prepared to try anything to find inner peace, apart from actually not going out wearing just 2 belts for a top.

Preston has LOVE and HATE tattooed on his toes in a tribute to Robert Mitchum in ‘Night of the Hunter’. He is not scary, not in the least.

Pete is hysterical. There’s a big debate going on about his coat. Rula tried to diffuse the situation by crying out “bananas are 15p each, how many shall we get”. Pete “I need bananas for my coat”. I know it’s a serious issue but he can see there will be no resolution. Tracy has entered with a blinder, do fruit and vegetables have feelings? Michael just wants everyone to love each other. George highlighted the plight of sweat shop workers. Jodie wants to sit there and laugh. Pete wants to Jodie bait. So far there have been no tears.

Tracy is beautiful, fit and my funny! She’s growing on me a little, although I prefer her when she’s being herself rather than when she’s with the girls. It’s gets a little hormonal then. Yesterday morning she had trouble sleeping and noticed that it was snowing. This was a first for her as she lives in Malibu. She was so excited that she woke Michael as she had to tell someone (grrrr). He is 53, it was 5am and took it as well but I would have slapped her myself as she looked at him and said “You look like hell”.

THE TASK
Chantelle : Hmmm, she read/sang the lyrics. She forgot most of the words. She sounded BAD.
Michael : took us back to Germany 40 years ago and came up with a composite character based on Adolf Hitler and Frank Spencer. It was alwight I suppose.
Rula : Thank goodness that there was a reason for her black wig, she was doing a scene as Lady Macbeth. Phew.
Preston : He was good. It’s a great pop tune.
Tracy : She had to do a slow motion Baywatch run. At 37 she looked stunning.
Pete : Got all the house mates hand clapping. Can’t quite reach the high notes anymore but he didn’t try. He’s not ashamed. He really enjoyed performing.

Chantelle really enjoyed performing and I think she really believes that she is now a pop star. They say that house can do strange things to you. She thinks that they all believe her too and that they enjoyed the song. Jodi didn’t and doesn’t and told Preston and Maggot. They squirmed and Preston looked like he really regretted having ever said a word. She leaves tonight if they don’t believe her, as she will have failed the task. I think they all like her, will cotton on and then she’ll stay. Hurray.

Hmm, Rula and George don’t believe Chantelle’s a pop star.

Oh no, they had to rank themselves in order of how famous they are.

Hurrah, those lovely boys of pop put themselves in the last 2 positions so have saved Chantelle from the axe. Fario is going to be roasted for delusions of grandeur. Stick her in a Tesco queue in a cardy and no one would recognise her.

Downside, as she was told her fate by Big Brother they were watching. She's won them over with a beautiful speech.

Te he. Big Brother asked her for her autograph. “Oh no, I ent got an autograph”. Classic.

Jodie don't look happy. Birds!!!

SHE’S A CELEBRITY GET HER OUT OF THERE!

day 3

Tracy asked Michael if he is related to the US Barrymores. As far as I’m aware this is not his real name. He chose it in an Educating Rita fashion and thus like Rita, it’s the height of pretension and he’s perhaps destined to a certain fate too. He’s not alwight.

Pete told Preston that he reminds him of a young Morrissey. Preston didn’t know if this is a good or a bad thing until Pete said “but you’re much better looking”. Preston is trying to be a voice of reason in a brewing war between Pete and Jodie. Pete has said nothing that unreasonable but Jodie’s bird reactions are making him feel heartless. I hope he don’t go changing. There’s a rumour that his coat is made of gorilla fur. He has cats, so I hope that his back catalogue is as healthy as he says it is.

There’s a competition going on to see if anyone can stare Pete out. Barrymore’s giving it a good shot. I’m not sure if this is a good thing to prove that he can do in front of the British public, this being a trial for him and all.

Looks like some of you don’t know who Goldie Looking Chain are, so here’s a gem. They’re famous for dedicating a performance of “Your Missus is a Nutter” to David Beckham. They have another well know-ish song called “Guns Don’t Kill People Rappers Do”.

Pretty damn dull tonight. I am enjoying the live coverage more.

There was a quiz yesterday. This was one of the questions.
Who is reported to have said that Jodie Marsh’s tits are like saggy spaniels ears? Michael, the quizmaster, cruelly repeated it.

Jodie’s done herself up like a kipper. Michael has admitted to being in rehab 8 times but he gets no sympathy from her, as she believes that people who are in rehab have apparently done it to themselves. She wants to change her life by being on Big Brother. She’s sick of people calling her a stupid slag when they pass her on the street. Oh dear, how much sympathy can she expect with an attitude like that? Yet she does expect sympathy and has been in tears with Dennis the predator too. He told her straight “you can’t keeping breaking down anytime anyone says something nasty about you”. “I’m not breaking down” she said wiping tears from her eyes. I feel that she could have chosen a confidant more wisely. Dennis thinks that all the housemates need therapy and can only remember 2 names Traci and Maggot.

They’ve all been pretty up front with their agendas, apart from Pete and Michael has not kept us in suspense. He has told the nation that he’s not guilty of anything other than stupidity, ie leaving the scene of the crime. Do we believe a man who fooled his wife every day for 18 (I think) years of marriage?

Faria wants to change her life too. Big Brother is her chance to show the public what she’s really like. In her defence she has slagged off “the English” who can “f**k off” if they believe what was in the News of the World. So now we know the real her and not just what we read in the paper. Case closed, she can be evicted now right?

Preston has smelt a rat. He doubts that Chantelle is a struggling musician. Being an up-front guy he confessed to her. She has managed to temporarily persuade him that it’s all true and she has sworn on her mother’s life that she is in a girl band. I bet she won’t be happy with that. Let’s she what happens tomorrow when the Housemates have to show each other why they're famous. Dennis will have to spin a ball and dunk a few baskets; Preston, Maggot and Pete get to sing some songs; Rula's going to do a bit of acting, and Michael has to do a funny turn. Traci, meanwhile, has to brave the crazy English snow to do some slow-mo running in a bikini. Faria, George, and Jodie have to give 90-second speeches explaining why they're famous. Chantelle will be treating us to the international debut of "I Want It Right Now".

Poor Chantelle has to remember a whole song, 3 song titles, 4 other band members, an old band name and the name of a Japanese shampoo company that used their song. She ain’t ‘appy.

celebrity big brother for the ex-pats

It’s back, Celebrity Big Brother and knowing that it’s also a guilty pleasure of the sharkster’s I will attempt a running review. I can’t do it every night cos it’ll eat into my reading time too much so the local community bloggers may need to contribute too. If you can stand to admit out loud that you watch too.

The first surprise is the inclusion of Michael Barrymore, our very own bargain basement Michael Jackson. By these standards we should expect Gary Glitter or John Leslie to feature soon. The man is very unstable and they want him to do a Les Dennis. We’ll see. By all accounts he made an early start by getting up very early to clown around on his own in front of the cameras. There was a lovely moment though when the young lad from the Ordinary Boys (Boys will be Boysssss) came into the house and he said hello to everyone apart from Barrymore to whom he said “alwight’.

The second surprise is that one of the contestants in not a ‘celebrity’. Chantelle, a promotions girl from Essex has to fool them all that she is in a successful girl band called Kandy Floss, with a K. However, according to all the silly press today it would appear that she IS a celebrity in comparison to Faria, famous in a Rebecca Loos way, for sleeping with Sven. I cannot wait for Urika’s column in the NOTW this weekend. Anyway, Chantelle has done Page 3 and is a professional Paris Hilton look-a-likey. I think she could fool all of them, apart from the 2 band members, the singer from the Ordinary Boys and Maggot from Goldie Looking Chains, or “who” as they have all been saying. She won’t know the lingo, 1st support on, get-in, sound check, tour support, transit van, microphone etc. Plus if they ask her what venues she’s played, she’s stuffed. Faria must think it’s her mission to fool the others as she told everyone that she was mainly doing TV work right now. Classic.

Rula Lenska represents red heads in the house and she’s already blown it with me by calling herself eccentric. It’s not something you say you are, it’s just what you are.

Carmen Electra (not in the house) was a bridesmaid at Tracy Bingham’s wedding. She’s a bird, sorry actress, from Bay Watch. So we can expect fireworks with Dennis Rodman who was married to Carmen for 5 minutes. I didn’t know he is a transvestite! Will he swap clothes with Pete Burns? Dennis looked gutted to see Tracy and was extremely rude to her on entry, pnar. They obviously have a history.

Jodie Marsh, a vegetarian, made it known that’s she’s going to be involved in a PETA campaign soon. Pete Burns came clean as a fur wearer immediately so I’m sure that she will probably see the contract cancelled before it begins in as serious of furious rows with Pete. You just know she’ll be an irrational bird about it all in a series of furious rows that will end in her tears. I hope to god she doesn’t take her clothes off. Will she dare next to a Baywatch model/actress?

Chantelle is shaping up to be a regular Jade Goody. She did not know what a gynaecologist is. She suspects that Jodie Marsh recognises her. Maggot is making doe eyes at Chantelle but she fancies Denis as he once went out with Madonna. He plied her with booze and they have held hands and I heard a whisper about a session in the loo, although this was from a woman who he says he has spurned twice. Denis told Tracy that she has hit on him twice. She doesn’t remember and said that she doesn’t drink much anymore. The man’s a predator. Maggot, meanwhile, is nervous that Michael will try it on. Jodie fancies Preston. Preston is following Pete likes he's his beatchh. Boys will be boys indeed. Preston has a girl friend in real life, not a boy friend.

George Galloway looks promising. I was really looking forward to Boy George being on the show and I am disappointed that he’s not. I suspect it’s because Pete Burns is on. Pete mysteriously revealed that he is on the show for a reason. I suspect that this onion has quite a few layers. I think that he will be the best value for money and I would not like to be on the wrong side of him. We were shown pictures of Pete’s surgery gone wrong. He’s literally had his top lip sewn together after it spun right out of control.

It’s going to be a good one. Already we have high emotions mixed with alcohol and tired celebrities. Jodie’s already played the bird card. Pete Burns told her he doesn’t like her tits and she’s crying, telling everyone about it, trying to driving wedges between people, saying “it’s not easy being me” and "are you on my side'. Boo hoo hoo. Jodie objects to Faria’s route to fame. Bizarre given that all she has is a media profile built on belts, cellulite, bad boob and a bad nose job.

Michael Barrymore now does serious 'acting' in the theatre and snores. Michael Barrymore pretended he knew who Chantelle is. He got a fantastic response from the British public on arrival, you just can't depend on them.

my daemon is

Your HARE DAEMON represents your passive,
kindhearted, and honorable nature. Though you
are occasionally shy with new people, friends
admire your unshakable tranquility, even in the
face of chaos.


What Animal Would Your Daemon Settle As?
brought to you by Quizilla

Thanks Catster

PS I see it!

2 days in

Tonight feels like the night before going back to school as I potter around the flat making sure that everything’s ship shape and that I have some clean clothes for tomorrow. And like school holidays, I can say that I really enjoyed myself over the break. I think it’s been my best Christmas holiday ever. I’ve also got a week off in a couple of weeks and I have 2 more weeks to take before the end of March. I’m seriously considering jumping on a plane to somewhere sunny with a couple of paperbacks and my watercolours. I’ve never taken this step to combat SAD but I’ve also never been aware of how much I love the sun and clear blue skies. Very tempting.

I started reintegrating myself back into society yesterday with a duck banquet at catster’s (all’s in order there shark) that left me a bloated and yawning wreck as I had not eaten such rich and gorgeous rich since Christmas Day. Yum. I picked up a couple of culinary tips too. I also discovered that I’d previously met one of her flatmates at this year’s Glastonbury. Neither of us had recalled this at first due to being in festival condition at the time. Small world eh.

Catster gave me an absolutely brilliant present for Christmas, a plot of land just above and to the left Copernicus on the Moon. I have deeds and everything. I shall be watching Richard’s Branson’s maiden voyage with even more interest now as I can charge rent if he lands where x marks the spot. It’s only 2 days since a new moon so I am even more excited about it waxing than normal as I believe that I’ll be able to see my plot’s district with the naked eye.

Further reintegration occurred today with a trip to my parents. Sowing begins in 2 weeks and we are starting with cabbages. How exciting.

a controlled experiment

My first New Year’s Eve Alone (by choice blog people)

6.15 TH for supplies, vodka, mixers and fags.
Observations : A man on the next block is decorating his bedroom . A new Indian restaurant opened tonight and they have balloons outside. I saw a man clutching a can of Tenants Pils while sexily (?) gyrating a road crash barrier. Man opposite is in.
Self gratifying Happy New Year texts sent : 1
Self gratifying Happy New Year texts received : 1

6.30 Vodka 1

6.50 No one of interest is registered on Friends Reunited from my Primary School, Secondary School or University.

6.57 Very scary DON'T DO DRUGS adverts on the radio.

7.00 Vodka 2. While in the kitchen I luckily convinced myself that now is not the time to install my roller blind as a power tool is required.

7.20 Self gratifying Happy New Year emails sent : 1
Self gratifying Happy New Year emails received : 0
Transferred to CD

7.35 Grauniad crossword, hmm, which use to be free on line. Stuck, 12 down New World Ostrich, 4 letters R_ _ A.

7.50 Vodka 3 and I am already regretting the tally, something I have never done before. Have lit the coal fire. I don’t have enough coal to last the night and I am not expecting any New Year revellers. Jimbob isn’t that normally your duty?

8.20 !!! (chk chk chk) have livened up proceedings and I just had a little dance.

8.35 Vodka 4 only. Shuffling the cards.
Heart Felt Happy New Year texts sent : 1

8.40 Heart Felt Happy New Year texts (hopefully) received : 1 plus an invite to dinner - result
Heart Felt Happy New Year emails sent : 1
Heart Felt Happy New Year emails received : 0

8.56 Heart Felt Happy New Year texts (hopefully) received : 2
All the way from New Zealand - I'd forgotten that I'd texted the WB

9.35 Hurrah a clear sky and Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, is clearly visible!!!!!

9.40 Heart Felt Happy New Year emails (hopefully) received : 1

9.50 Justin playing now. Phoar

10.05 Post my 2005 review, working title "I Love Life and Life Loves Me'

I enter 2006 very happily, for I am finally close to fulfilling an ambition that I have aspired to for a few years now. When I was young my parents never ever let me get away with wailing “I’m bored”. Over the years of course I was left unsupervised and found myself wailing this loudly many many times. The biggest influence of my adult life, He Who Cannot be Named, had a very low tolerance of the said phrase too and simply could not understand how I could be bored. Wanting to cure myself of this terrible ailment, I gathered some role models: father, brother and He Who Cannot Be Named ( all my absolute heroes) and after studying them all I realised how similar we all are in character. Once I saw this I came to understand that ‘dabbling’, as my father puts it, is my destiny and then the hobbies and interests simply found me. And now I am proudly dumb founded and cannot understand when people tell me that they are bored. I've found inspiration from the people around me and from the brilliant characters in the books that I am now devouring. In particular the absolutely mad as a brush women and the brave rites of passage kid characters, all of who seem to have otherworldly powers and connections with spirits and super human strength of character. Yum. Like them I can now keep myself happily occupied for days on end, although that’s the extent of my heroic characteristics.

NEW ENTRY STUFF

My first home grown tomato

I made a wonderful new friend in Sadie. I love walking her by the canal at work. Who could resist?

While out jogging I learnt how beautiful life and the park are at 7.30am. Mornings are now my favourite time of the day.

Arts & Crafts are responsible for my favourite moment of the year, the night I saved a planet, or is it a star? In the fervent 6 weekends of preparation for the kid’s room at the shark & TH’s wedding (which I thoroughly enjoyed), I prematurely burst the balloon acting as the basis for the papier-mâché moon. Luckily I had a spare balloon and together Perry and I donned our super hero personas and simply rebuilt the satellite from its inner core. We swore that we would never forget. I wonder if he has.


FANTASY FOOTBALL
We’ve slumped to a shameful 8th position. Having once been in 4th place, in real life we would be sacked by now. I can’t even bare to tell you how many points behind we are. Not a highlight. QPR, however, are stable at 13th in the Championship and we’ve just won 2 games in a row. It’s not Holloway’s fault that he’s got no money and we don’t want to be too ambitious only 2 seasons into our promotion. I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t been to a match this season.

BLOGGING
I’ve always wanted to write a diary but somehow I never got around to it. While I remain intimidated by the shark’s fantastic prose I am also motivated by her distance and by my desire to keep the ex-pats up-to-date with the day-to-day activities of life in their spiritual home HH.

CONTINUED FROM 2004
DIY
Sadly I did not do enough. Although I did manage to give the hallway a second coat of paint, a staggering18 months after the first coat. I think that removing the grout, regrouting and then painting the tiles in the bathroom, an unpleasant 3 day job, was an over kill for me.

NIGHT SKY
Although I kept a track of the major planetary movements I learnt nothing new. There were no trips to the coast and very few night time excursions to the park. My Binoculars have a layer of dust on them. Rubbish. I will try harder.

BEST PURCHASES
My own computer
Binoculars
Digital Camera
Beginners Painting Course
Bike

OUTSIDE INFLUENCES

FAVOURITE ALBUM : Joint favourites : Arcade Fire ‘Funeral’ & Kate Bush ‘Aerial’

FAVOURITE SINGLE : Joint favourites Madonna ‘Hung Up on You’ & Magic Numbers 'Forever Lost'

FAVOURITE VIDEO : Sigur Ros ‘Glosoli’. Go to the Media Player here to see it, it’s lovely.

GIG OF THE YEAR : M83 supporting The Secret Machines at the Electric Ballroom

EVENT OF THE YEAR : Goes without saying...the shark & TH's wedding.

FOOTBALL MATCH OF THE YEAR : Liverpool’s win over AC Milan. Bet Peely loved it.

2006 RAH RAH RAH
In no particular order here’s what I want to do:
Learn to fly my kite (I mean it this time)
Paint a good sunset by the sea
Make rainbows
Help Daddy in the allotment – pretty soon I too will smile at the rain and say “great for the spuds”
Find more barmy women and loners that I can relate to in books
More camping
The remainder of my aspirations rest of my getting a garden:
Learning more about the night sky
Attracting wild life
Get some bird tables and a bird birth
Being in my garden from 8am every Saturday and Sunday morning

So, I have discovered more and more things that I enjoy doing every day. Pretty soon I will have to give up work as there will not be enough hours in the day.

10.20 Inspired by myself (hurrah) I watched the video to Sigur Ros ‘Glosoli’. Do it kids.

10.25 Inspired by DJ Boyo I play 'Supernature' by Cerrone, a song that I did not know I owned until he DJed round here

10.35 Vodka 5 only

11.15 I am feeling so cosmopolitan as good cheer travels to me all the way from New York, Barbados and New Zealand. London and Berlin come on. Happy New Year at 4pm does not count.
Self gratifying Happy New Year texts received : 2
Self gratifying Happy New Year texts sent/returned : 2

11.50 I get in there first and call my Mummy. I love Mummy & Daddy

MIDNIGHT - HAPPY NEW YEAR FOLKS

12.01 Hurrah - just won a Blog of the Year award!!!!!!

12.15 Cancelled all that counting stuff due to being overly sentimental myself

12.30 Mental barmy tracks going on on xfm

01.00 I'M STILL HERE......

01.30 Vodka 6 only, this is so embarassing

01.45 James Hyman on xfm is rocking
I wonder just how much longer I will last.
There’s only 1 bit of coal left. Jimbob has changed, in the old days he would have been straight round.
Do I go out and buy more coal? Hmmmm.

02.15 It's raining outside and getting chilly in here. I'd best prepare for a trip to the garage for coal. Still no sign of jimbob!

02.20 Crazy Horses on the radio. Wicked tune

2.55 I’m back with coal and batteries for my new digital camera which I may amuse myself with for a while. It wasn’t pretty out there. A 24 hour garage on New Year’s Eve @3am. You can just imagine the calibre of customer and attendant. He's always really really rude. I wished him a Happy New Year but I don’t think it carried any weight. A small bit of comedy value on the way back when a middle aged gentleman walked into 3 wheely bins in a row. In an effort to get out of their path he crossed the pavement, directly into the path of a lamppost.
I only saw 1 party going on.
Oh oh the DJs changed. No one wants Indy flipping guitar and wingeing now.
Really.
Keane, he played Keane - he had to go.

4am I'm watching "Koyaanisqatsi'. Wow.

cos you’re all at it, peer pressure

Today is a New Moon day. Just lately this has been corresponding with my own cycle leaving me more than a little barmy since Boxing Day. This madness continues until my cycle gradually moves away from the New Moon towards the Full Moon. Then my barminess coincides with the Full Moon. Get it? This leaves me easily distracted today and I cannot retain a thought in my head for long. I just went out without my gloves for god’s sake. I only managed about 60 pages of my new book today. Kafka, at 15, is a little too young to fall in love with, so I remain in love with Esteban Trueba despite his appalling crimes to humanity. So, while easily distracted :::

A. FOUR JOBS YOU'VE HAD IN YOUR LIFE:
1. Event and Festival Co-Ordinator
2. Assistant Manager of a music venue
3. For a bank
4. Saturday Assistant in habitat

B. FOUR MOVIES YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER:
1. Lord of the Rings Series
2. The Ballroom of Romance
3. Shrek
4. Calamity Jane

C. FOUR CITIES YOU'VE LIVED IN:
1. London
2. Sheffield
3. tbc
4. tbc

D. FOUR TV SHOWS YOU LOVE TO WATCH:
1. Coronation Street
2. Curb Your Enthusiasm
3. Soccer Saturday Sky Sports News
4. Any Bill Oddie bird or nature programme

E. FOUR PLACES YOU'VE BEEN ON VACATION:
1. New York
2. LA
3. Lake Garda
4. Whitstable

F. FOUR WEBSITES YOU VISIT DAILY:
1. News
2. I'm not ashamed
3. Football
4. Moon

G. FOUR OF YOUR ALL-TIME FAVORITE RESTAURANTS:
1. Oyster Hut, Whitstable Harbour
2. Olleys
3. 3 Monkeys
4. Bakers at Glastonbury Festival

H. FOUR OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS:
1. Mummy’s roast chicken
2. Thai lemon grass spare ribs
3. My home cooked pasta
4. My Balsamic tomato salad

I. FOUR PLACES I'D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:
1. V Festival, 2001
2. New Year’s Eve 2001
3. Whitstable, Summer 2002
4. Mogwai, Glastonbury Festival 2003

J. FOUR THINGS YOU FIND YOURSELF SAYING
NEW ENTRY Always learning
2. Mars / Jupiter / Sirius, whatever's in the sky
3. Wicked
4. I’m horrible, I know

a ha ha

My 2 favourite boys are in Berlin for the New Year, the land of debauchery itself. I’m very glad I stayed put right now and I've had to stifle a few titters as they both got to bed at 11am and are still waiting for some sleep. And it’s not even Midnight yet.

:(

No snow!

aha

I spent some more time with Daddy today fine-tuning the TV installation plans. This time we drew diagrams and spent about 15 minutes planning, before he had an aha moment, and he suddenly declared that as my DVD does not record, the installation that I did myself in 15 minutes is all I actually need. To my shame I then realised that the reason I had no sound from the VHS and DVD when he asked me to check (I had called him proudly on installation as I had done it all by myself) was because the TV was on mute as I was on the phone to him at the time. Shameful.

i love pottering

Shark, look your pots.

early learning centre

STUDY OF BRITISH WEATHER : RAINBOW

daddy’s little girl

I’m back in position after a flurry of Ferrero Rosser and Baileys and judging by the lack of blog activity it looks like everyone is having, like me, a very chilled one. I spent yesterday playing worms in front of my coal fire. A game of strategy and planning, it’s one of my favourite ways to occasionally spend a wasted afternoon, though I rarely have the time these days. And I am totally stuck into the latest edition of book club ‘The House of the Spirits’. I have fallen 100% for the most dastardly of characters. I haven’t felt this way for such a fiend since Heathcliffe. He’s melted this ice maiden.

It snowed earlier and the snow settled……for about 3 minutes. It created quite a stir in the back garden. Once it stopped the garden was awash with squirrels, black birds and all variety of tits foraging for food in the grass. Somehow the birdies have all completely missed the bird seed that I hung up quite some time ago. Bird watching is a game of patience and so I persevere. It’s quite a different story in my Mummy’s back garden with all sorts feeding at her bird table and bath. I spent some quality fag time out there over Christmas and even saw some goldfinch! The sound of bird song filled the garden and it was so peaceful that I am now totally committed to getting a garden after decorating here. I’ve also convinced my Daddy that I am totally serious about helping him in the allotment this year. From February most of my weekends will revolve around painting class and sowing and planting tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, onions, cabbages and whatever else we fancy. I’m more than a little embarrassed that I’ve missed out on at least 6 or 7 years of this. Still, the skills will now remain in the family. I cannot wait to start and it all helps towards my romantic notion of a hippy future.

The snow was fun but really I’ve been praying for sun so that I can try out my most fantastic Christmas pressie from the shark, a solar powered Rainbow Maker. I love whoever invented this and of course the shark for associating me with rainbows. We saw one from her kitchen in HH once and it made us giddy as kids. Te he. I cannot wait to read her Christmas blog to see what she got from TH and whether or not Mrs N will feature.

I am now also the proud owner of a 21 inch flat screen telly which I insisted on installing myself despite the fear of god that Daddy put into me. He spent the whole of Christmas Day giving me installation tips, and building a more and more elaborate system in his head until eventually we arrived at a system whereby I need 2 splitters, 2 aerial leads and 2 more Scart leads. I have pictures now from all outlets but no sound from the DVD and VHS. Still, from trying I understand the basic principles and I will give it another shot tomorrow. I’ve no plans to leave the house again today and have all the essentials in, ie Twiglets, Diet Coke and fags. Besides, I need at least 4 hours spare to install my new universal remote from big bro. It doesn’t recognise my TV so I will have to tune it in manually. The booklet advises patience, as there are 150 possible combinations. Bah hah, pooh, humbug. Why do all my new hobbies and gadgets require patience, which no one thought to get me for Christmas. Still, a lack of TV is no loss today as I can barely stand to watch at the moment. All the commercial terrestrial channels are showing the most appalling give up smoking ads. Pah!

Back to my pottering.

hh on christmas eve

My most peaceful Christmas Eve ever.

Happy Christmas all.

xxx

PS This is an Early Learning Centre photo. They can only improve.

cos i'm counting the days

The 2006 Springwatch survey launches on 24 December as recording begins of two of the six monitored species: peacock butterflies and seven-spot ladybirds. Go on.

And then birdies.

thursday already?

The week began with an unscheduled chilli feast at the Catster’s where I bored her rigid with talk of agents (yum, my favourite people) and the live music industry. It was all in aid of her SJ application, another secret in her complicated web of intrigue. Ssshh.

Tuesday took a on totally unpredictable shape. Like Jimbob we are winding down at work and the WB felt like bunking off and suggested a card session down the pub. I logged off my computer immediately as this has never happened before, well not at 3pm in the afternoon and I grabbed DJ Boyo. Cards are better with 3 OK. We played all sorts and I realized how much I miss Perry, my old card partner. Fortunately for me my hollow legs were functioning at top level and I fully recall the evening as something resembling:

Illegal gambling in the pub where I introduced the term ‘poker face’ to DJ Boyo and explained that grimacing when you see what card you’ve just picked up is bad. I recall saying “don’t show me your cards” a lot until the very last game when I openly cheated.

WB left around 8.15 I think

Me: “It’s only 8.30…Let’s go back to mine to play more cards. Blah blah”

8.31: DJ Boyo settles a hefty £80 bar bill and I popped to the offy to stock up on vodka and mixers

9.00ish The Disco rope lights are activated. The DJ in DJ Boyo is activated. The disco glitter ball and spotlight are activated. We danced in the Living Room Discothèque until I finally had to admit defeat and retire. For the benefit of the sharkster I should say that there was no funny business. We had a bloody marvelous night though but I don’t think it was a wooing situation. He did invite me to Berlin for NYE’s today though but I think it’s because another bad influence colleague backed out of the trip. Tempting but I can’t see it happening at all.

Although the night before had left me in such a good mood that I bought a Santa hat on the way to work and wore it for most of the day (with my huge grin) I was also very tired for my only actually scheduled event of the week. The Old Boss, his missus and the Foetus (as he calls the bump) were passing through town and hosting drinks in Hampstead. It seems that scans are very advanced these days and I was shown 3 close up portraits of the living thing that looks like an Alien. Its OK, they said it too. No eyes yet you see, just skull.

The only thing I did wrong, apart from yawn too much, was slightly miss time my stitches story. My scab fell off just as The Old Boss was tucking into Welsh Rarebit and The Missus into sausages. I told him all about my new hobbies and he is very proud, which of course means the world to me. It was a lovely evening and I was pleased to see them so happily married after 3 or 4 years. Ah. I was also pleased when his jet lag digged in at 10ish and I was able to flee to my bed for a much-needed 8-hour kip.

Tonight on the couch with my tea has been bliss although the deactivated Living Room Discothèque is still in a shocking mess. The coal fire and the whole room need to be cleaned, the ashtrays are full and my entire CD collection is on the floor. Everything’s in the wrong place! I have no clean clothes left to wear and my hair was due to be washed on Tuesday. I’m definitely staying in everyday for a month now!

better pic as promised

care of the lovely catster.

is it christmas yet?

Funny old place the sbc. I wouldn’t know anyone here without it. I saw the Vixen and catster, Lady Janey and the Unbearded One this week and next week I have my own reunion with the Old Boss in town. Ah.

Miss you too sharkster.

Back to me. I’m very excited. The Christmas shopping was done in 1 ½ hours today and the trip ended in a surprise and spontaneous trip to see Harry Potter. My first present. I got a text mid-shop and before I realised that I was wearing what I jogged in this morning, I was supping a skinny latte in Leicester Square.

I’ve just wrapped everything and the flat looks very pretty and very purple.

PS The tall man opposite has put Christmas tree lights up in his window. Over and out.

ouch

I’ve just returned from an early evening with lisalemontree. On her arrival I told her that I have stopped using the Laydee shoulder bag that I bought in Madrid as it has given me a bad (bad!) back. Straight away she could tell me exactly where the pain is, how much it hurts and she actually gave me 2 exercises to get rid of it. “Oh yeah, I have that all the time.” !!! Whereas I have changed back to my old nike ruck sack, she is prepared to go with this intolerable pain every day. Laydees, you are a mystery to me.

oh yes

I have just bought camera. It arrives on Monday.
Maybe then I will be able to post pictures the right way up.

one more ex-pat

We now have another ex-pat, albeit a temporary one. The vixen is leaving the country on Tuesday and she had leaving drinks on Wednesday. Her first stop is Thailand where she will undergo 7 days of detox. During this time she will be fasting and having daily colonic irrigation. She’ll certainly need a break after all that, although once the initial shock had worn off I came round to thinking it’s a good thing. I couldn’t persuade her to start a blog believing, quite rightly, that it’s her trip, but she has agreed to send detailed email accounts. On the off chance I let the unbearded one know where I was and was thrilled when he appeared. He backed off a little when I told him the vixen was around as it appears he had once made her cry. It’s quite a benchmark with him. He only stayed for a bit as he was working but asked me to pop over.

The catster was running late so I popped over while I waited. I wasn’t expected Lady Janey to be there as the band was ‘2 Poofs and a Piano’, a backing band for a TV personality’s talk show, but she was there. I couldn’t believe that they could sell out 2 nights in a row. I was really happy to see her and we had a marvellous gab, several rants and I’ve vowed to meet up more, with their permission. I had to ask if Wossy was there twice before the confusion over the talent was cleared up. It seems the bearded one had been using cultural short hand and the band are actually from NYC.

I took advantage of the evening by bringing colour print outs of my stitches, (and the new picture as below) there was after all a whole set of new people to bore. There are some quite similar decorative stones outside the concrete jungle but they have obviously had several Health & Safety Assessments there and the tops are painted a very visible white colour. Maybe I should write to complain. Any lawyers among us?

can you tell what it is yet?

I have just got back from a lovely evening spent at the Archduke. Vickster, a lovely woman who I’m sure that I will get to know a whole lot better when the time is right, is leaving London on Saturday to go to Thailand, New Zealand and Brazil. Wow! More on the evening soon. In the meantime, can you make out this picture, a memento of the sharkster & TH’s wedding day? IF YOU SQUINT? There's a better one on the way, I have yet to buy my new camera.

you can breath out now

So, it’s the night after the nearly most dreaded day of the year, the most dreaded being New Year’s Eve……. On awaking this morning, after maybe 4 hours kip (only broken by 4 toilet trips) I knew before I opened my eyes this morning that I was alone (sharkster! I am a spinster of the parish), that I had nothing to worry about and that I’d had a good time. My favourite memory is of being 1 of 2 glamorous assistants helping the Chairman distribute 3 boxes of cigars (a tradition) to the whole room. My, how I’ve settled in. My other favourite memory is of a colleague telling me that I’m his favourite of all the people who have joined the company in the last 5 years and asking if he could hire me as a motivator at an hourly rate. I know he was tiddly but I also think he meant some of it. The whole night was a success, the food was good, the venue was lovely, the staff were friendly and the DJs knew what to do. Of course I kicked off the dancing but by 11 the dance floor was rammed! I threw off the new shoes and spent 3 hours giving it some with wild abandon.

My whole body aches today though. My stitches are throbbing, my heels are raw, the soles of my feet are blistered and I can’t move my head very fast at all. This is from dancing you understand. I wasn’t alone though and eventually most people turned up for work today battered too. Even though no one can have had that much sleep, everyone was in very high spirits. Booby started it by putting photographic account of the evening onto the share drive. I was able to peruse them happily with no fear at all seeing as my biggest foe par of the evening was apologising to DJ Boyo for not having bigger breasts. That probably scared the life out of him, but I’m used to that now, and rarely worry about scaring men.

Thanks to jimbob for his advice and for having the lance at the ready, so to speak, but I am happy to clear up any notion that I am having anything other than a marvellous time. I love my job, I’m reading more than ever, Booby, the sharklette & catster have inspired me to get a camera, which I will do as soon as possible, I’m starting art school in January, my bulbs are sprouting and the noisy neighbours have been tamed. Hear my roar. Things are nice. Oh and I’m getting a 21 inch colour telly from Daddy for Christmas ☺. He wanted to get me a 28 inch screen! This arrives on Christmas Day morning when my big bro will collect me and fetch me to the folks. I’m really looking forward to the long break and I can’t wait to hide away and furrow. I’m planning to spend all my time doing DIY and improving the distance that I can jog. Home feels like home again and I’m going to celebrate by spending some quality time here and making some home improvements.

Wow, I am so enjoying this growing up lark. It rocks and I cannot wait to be 40.

phew

Home safe and all in order, apart from very sore feet.

later

Shoes don't go with the trousers.

i've got an outfit but that's the least of my worries

I have been missing the sharkster rather a lot of late . Of all the people I know in the whole world, apart from my family, it’s her that has tolerated and tried to understand me for the longest. This is an impossibly trying task I know and I wish she were here now as it’s the night before the dreaded staff Christmas party.

I fear ANY social gathering. When surrounded by unfamiliar people, with whom I must make small talk, I am rubbish, I talk rubbish and I do rubbish things. This is one of my biggest battles and regrets in life. Give me a role and I’m fine, which is why I tend to run around trying to help or construct things, anything to give me a focus. I can drink anyone under the table and I regularly enjoy nights with mates where I do not say the wrong thing, or spend the next day analysing and cringing at anything I said or have to make up news rules for spotting the end of the night. But dos of this kind fill me with fear and I am terrified already.

Tomorrow is my third staff party in my current job. The first time I wisely left at 11pm. The second time I danced all night, thus avoiding any need for small talk. But this is my third year, so I know everyone and so I can’t avoid everyone all night like I want to. The News of the Screws has terrified me these last few weekends with sensationalist double page spreads of what people get up to at these things. Here’s today’s troubling strap lines and statistics: “Piccadilly Circus crowds saw me at it”; “I enjoyed sin on a bin with barman” 58% of partygoers said they fancied getting off with a workmate; 62% of blokes fantasise about going all the way at the office party.

Sharkster I’m scared. Please keep those fingers crossed for me and hope that my hollow legs work when they are needed the most.

My other biggest fear is any date in my diary but that’s a whole different blog. Phew eh.

laydee learning at a stand still

Wow, another full and fun packed day. I spent the whole day yesterday at Mummy and Daddy’s with only some of the family: 2 brothers, 3 nephews and 1 great nephew. A shocking amount of noise emanates from this many small people, especially when rival football teams are playing. 2 of the nephews support Ipswich and many other Shepherds Bush born clan and myself support QPR. When I arrived we were 2-1 up. I sang “come on you Rs, come on your Rs” and I even had an opportunity to sing my favourite QPR song which goes like this……Chim chiminee, chim chiminee, chim chim cheroo. Who needs Sol Campbell when you’ve got Shitto. The full time result flashed up onto the screen and we had done it, we had beaten Ipswich 2-1 away. Cheers erupted and 1 beaten, shaking with rage, nephew leapt at me, red faced and screamed right in my face “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” “Goodness” I said, “he’s just like a red head”. “Yes” my brother replied in his dead pan way, “you can always tell when he’s upset”. And then quite unexcitedly, a correction flashed up on the screen. We’d only gone and done a QPR special, Ipswich had in fact equalised in the 90th minute. Harmony was restored after 1 quick round of “it’s all gone quiet over there.”

The same little-ens gave us all our biggest laugh of the day when Dickov of Blackburn was mentioned. Did we know that his first name is Paul? His second name is My. That’s odd said my Mummy and repeated it out loud to hoots all round “Paul My Dickov”. A ha ha. The same little-ens also informed me that my saying Mummy and Daddy is childish. Luckily nephew 3 leapt to my aid and said that I am the baby of the family. At 37 I am the youngest. Scary.

I also learned that I now have a 2 day old great niece. At last, another female in our testosterone fuelled family (my Mummy only managed girls on her 5th & 6th attempts). After a whole day surrounded by farting, football and wrestling, I wonder if she’ll grow up as tom boyish and tough as me. I do hope that she has more luck with Laydee skills than I do. I still don’t understand beyond the basics and I now understand that I never ever will. I just don’t get the point of so many bags, jackets, coats, skirts, dresses, hair accessories, earrings etc etc. And shoes and boots, which seems to be a major obsession with the Laydees at work, is the biggest mystery of all. What’s the point of having loads of shoes and boots, unless some are for walking or are slightly varied in colour or style? And please, cowboy boots for women who don’t even cycle or walk more than 20 yards let alone go near a horse. I tried to shop for a tee-shirt yesterday but had to give up almost immediately as my eyes glazed over the racks and rows of rubbish. All I wanted was a tight black, v necked cotton tee-shirt. All I saw were bolero shaped tee shirts with arms and no body. Point?? And various sequined shapes with odd arms. Point?? And tee-shirts that you have to tie up around your waist or ankles. Point? Rubbish. I just want to slip it on and wear it every day for years.

I did however find a pair of simple black flat pumps to wear with my new Madrid trousers. My nephews understand my point of view and asked me where my toes go, for they have pointed toes. I couldn’t answer them having worn nothing but trainers for 3 years but I have now figured out what happens to them having spent today trying to wear them in. They get squashed up against each other in hellish torment. I now recall from days gone by that I shall have plasters handy for the next few weeks. Shoes are so over rated.

onwards and upwards

I’m doing really rather well with the going out more thing. I have just returned from an evening of culture at the Tate Britain. I’m ashamed to say that it was my first visit. Absolutely shocking I know, however, I will be going to lots of galleries from now on as I don’t want to turn up at school without having done some research.

I’ve been a little lazy on the creative front these last few months, my last artistic endeavour having been the children’s décor at sharkster & TH’s wedding in April. However, I am now going to whole-heartedly embrace my Daddy’s favourite saying of “always learning”. I am so inspired that I am going to attempt an oil painting on Sunday.

Plus I don’t want to waste the 50p I spent at the Tate on a ‘future artist’ badge.

i had planned to be home by 10

I’ve decided that I must get out more and I began by seeing the wonderful Richard Hawley at Catster’s SOJ last night. What a lovely venue and Richard was brilliant. It was a bit of an odd night though. Originally we were going to meet up in a pub that my first boyfriend drank in and it made me titter enough to mention it to the wonderful boss. Then in a fit of nostalgia I bored him and another colleague with a sight seeing trip of my youth as we passed through Hammersmith in a taxi. We normally get an Account cab but due to long delays we ended up hailing one. So used to just jumping out at the other end, that’s exactly what we did. It was funny when he had to toot his horn to get us back to pay. It made us all laugh like 3 giddy kids.

Then I had another blast from the past when on entering the Foyer my eyes fell on a man I had snogged a few times, oh 8 or 9 years ago. By now I was revealing in my story telling, so I told the WB something about the man, even though I wasn’t sure if I had made it up or not. I told him that he was the original inspiration for Ebeneezer Goode in The Shamen’s song. It’s quite a claim to fame and the WB, being quite the Lord of Darkness, thought it was hilarious. So spirits were high even before we had a drink and we proceeded on a belly full of one sandwich.

During Richard’s last song a man behind me started a loud conversation. I looked back on impulse and was surprised to be greeted with a hug and a kiss from Ed Harcourt. Nice man. I introduced him to the WB. He loves it when I pull off a stunt like that. I wondered if it would carry on being a night of coincidence and I was not in the least surprised when I found myself sitting next to the man from the foyer, who is now tour managing. I flashed him a smile but didn’t really get anything back. Ten minutes later, out of nowhere he said loudly “I remember you”. He didn’t remember my name but as I told him “I’ve lived a whole lifetime since we last met”. Of course all this gave the WB an opportunity for some lively Laydee Brockwell baiting and a funny half hour. I asked him outright, like I do, and yes he is Ebeneezer Goode. Ha ha.

All the while I’m with the WB who likes a drink and another colleague who is ramming down the cider as he’s on a pass out. He has 2 kids. I kept up and actually initiated 3 last rounds of the night, one after the other. We all got through £30 each easily and I only had £3.50 of £35 left before we inevitably stayed for the after show. That’s when catster turned up. I felt awful as I ponced 2 drinks and 2 fags off her and I have since decided that I should always leave when I’ve run out of money.

The new rule has quickly come into being cos I said the wrong thing again last night. After an excitable night it just came out wrong. I had called a cab and the catster and a friend of hers were going to jump in. What they didn’t know is that we get told off at work if we have too much waiting time, so I got a little fretful when the catster’s mate said her leisurely goodbyes. I then proceeded to ruin the kind gesture in the rain by panicking and telling her that she might have to get the tube if she was too much longer. It just came out wrong. She looked quite affronted and so I topped it all by spending the entire journey trying to make up for my gaff by grilling her in an effort to show her that I thought that she was great. This must have been sickening. I should have just explained and said sorry about that. It’s so simple and easy to see that now. Still, it gave me something to worry about all day.

There was another little surprise of the evening, but I’ll let catster tell you as people are always beating her to things cos she’s actually out doing stuff. SEE HOW NICE I AM? Tell your friend.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

PS WB said I wasn’t boring. Actually it was “what ever you are you’re not boring”. Made my night.

i finally got up the nerve

Pretty soon i will be a Laydee what paints. I'm doing a painting course. Hurrah.

rip jeans

Laydees, thank goodness that I actually did slim into my new jeans. It was simple in the end, I just gave up milk and pounds that I never ever thought that I would shift again just literally fell off. Being a creature of habit did I mention that my new ones are almost identical to my old ones? Even though my 1980s roadie look, spray painted drain pipes, has recently been adopted by Kate Moss, Sienna Miller and various bo-ho chicks, after wearing them nearly every day for 4 years, I couldn’t bear to change the style. A few weeks ago though I had to face up to the truth that they were falling apart and I even had to darn the arse. But today they died. A small split appeared on both cheeks and they got quickly got bigger each time I sat down. Despite Booby offering me 50p for a quick look, and because it is quite nippy and I did not want to get arrested I turned to my trustee mate gaffer tape. The last time I had to gaffer my trousers was when my pants split during a Meltdown Festival. Luckily it happened back stage where gaffer was in ready supply. I soon forgot it was there until I walked past Harry Dean Stanton. Oh those were the days. “Hey” he said “you’ve got gaffer tape on your ass.” While this may have embarrassed some people I walked away and punched the air thinking HDS just looked at my arse!!!!

arggggghhhhhh

Oh, I feel awful. I was already in tears on the bus home from the last couple of chapters of The Amber Spyglass (so much better the second time around) and then on the way into my house, I saw a couple of blokes parking a car and obviously going into the NN. My heart sank and my rage came instantly, Monday being one of their regular nights for noise.

The night that they moved in I had to fly down there and let them know that music at the volume they were playing it at 1am is not acceptable. I had to keep leaving them notes for the first couple of months but eventually I thought that we had got to some sort of compromise on noise levels. Ivor Cutler I’m with you.

However, over the summer months it's got noisier more often. I tried to grin and bear it for quite some time but the night of their last party was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I found a note on the front door at 4pm saying that they had forgotten to tell us there would be a party that night. Even though the last one ended at 10am I refused to pack my tooth brush and leg it, I mean why should I? I stayed thinking it wouldn’t be as loud as their last party as they had not given us any notice. Ultimately, however, I spent from 4am pacing the streets and sitting in my lovely park.

The gloves came off that night. I soon noticed a twice weekly pattern to the horrible noises that shook the foundations of my flat and made me not want to come back to the home that I have lived in so happily for 10 years. Like I told the Geography teacher type, “band practice, not happy, why should I have to listen to it? If it happens again I’m telling your landlady”. It did, so I did, complain I mean. The reality of having to bang on my bedroom floor at bedtime on a regular basis has left me feeling impotent, pathetic and angry. NN is a very emotive issue. You’ve all heard stories of people reduced to acts of madness when their compaints were ignored, so like most people I’m handing it badly, ie full red headed rage. Damn.

So, the hippy type came to the front door to let the noisy guests in. “I’d better not have to listen to your shit band all night” I said wisely. I was told to get my facts right. It’s not a band, it’s just normal music. This means, that they are playing their music so loud that it actually sounds like they have 2 electric guitars, drums and appalling amplified vocals down there. No apology, just a mouthful back.

It took me a while to clam down and my first instinct was to feel bad that I’d probably ruined their evening but they’ve ruined plenty of mine. Then I wanted to apologise, but I’ve repeatedly explained in a much more pleasant manner. But they don't care how unhappy they've made me. So now I just feel like shit. All I want is to be able to be at home and not feel like I’m living above a bar. It’s not too much to ask is it?

no no no no no no no

On Wednesday, I made it all the to my Doctors in Shepherds Bush for a 9am appointment to take out my stitches. The receptionist there absolutely strictly adheres to every single stereotype that you can think of. A complete hatchet faced bitch of the first degree.

“I’m here for a 9am appointment.” She looks at me in alarm even before checking the appointments. I mean how could it be that ANYONE could have an appointment? I am obviously stupid. She must watch Little Britain and more or less told me that the computer says no. I explain that it’s only to take out some stitches and maybe I’m supposed to see the Nurse.

Cue, the smell on her top lip getting worse. “You got a letter” and obviously expects me to just walk out in complete understanding. Turns out that the Nurse is off sick for a week.

Luckily I’ve encountered the receptionist before and taking a tip from Lyra, I just looked at her blankly and said “No”, not budging from my position.

“Where do you live?”

“SE24.”

“You can’t be a patient here.”

“Doctor M said I could.”

“Doctor M is no longer here.”

“Yes but he was Head of Surgery at the time, please ask the Doctor if he will see me.”

“Doctor says no”. She hands me a leaflet and tells me that I can go to Charing Cross Hospital or Parsons Green.

So, I limp to Charing Cross Drop In Centre and quickly notice the 2 hour waiting time sign. I tell reception the purpose of my visit. I spit blood when I’m told that they no longer remove stitches. I limp to Parsons Green, I wait for 45 minutes and it takes 45 seconds to remove my stitches.

I am changing Doctors!!!!

RIP George Best

new moon

It’s a New Moon tonight and for me it will hopefully bring some peace after days of feeling extremely strange. I’ve not been able to retain a thought in my head since Monday. I’ve been blathering away to myself all week at work. And there’s been an electric whirlwind going on in my forehead all week.

Somehow I’ve kept my spirits up and have managed to stay the right side of manic. Although always being just moments from tears and sadness, I literally willed myself happy all week.

And it’s not just been me this time either. Everyone around me at work has felt the pressure too. On consulting my hero today ('he knows' in 'be like me') I was advised to “ride on the most positive beam of light you can find”. Te he he, I’ve been riding all week like the good witch that I am.

guilty pleasure

I'm sorry but this series of 'I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here' is TV Gold.

The last public vote is to send one of them into a sound booth, singing while having insects dropped over them. On logging on to vote for Jenny Frost, I noticed the web-sites paid sponsors. what the feck!

nearly there

Anyway, the injection did start to work and I was then treated to the sight of a medic threading a big needle. “I’ll be OK as long as I can have a vodka later!” “Yes, yes”, and they accurately mimicked me gulping down vodka after vodka. Four medics then gathered around and held down my leg. It was important that I didn’t move it. The needle went in and I could feel the thread going through my skin. Another medic held my hand and talked to me to keep me calm. “One suture, brave girl. What is your name?” One more suture. And another. It’s all over and once I completed the paperwork I was free to leave. I thanked them all, as they had been wonderful. I was given a painkiller and I was just about to leave the scary room, when they gave me the most painful parting shot. “NO DRINK!” They had lied. Pah.

If you are squeamish




look




away




now!!!!!

mary poppins

oh how exciting!

ne nor ne nor ne nor

I was told that it was best that I did not look now, and I agreed. After much talking in Spanish, eventually It was agreed that I had to go to the Hospital in an Ambulance to have stitches. I have to admit that I was a little scared. I’ve always been really nervous about banging my shins after having had a bad bash on a bus once. I was only saved from a similar injury by the fashion of the day, black leather riding boots. Fashion worked against me this week though, as I was wearing one of my new purchases, a pair of ¾ length trousers. Cor, you couldn’t make it up Laydees. Seconds later, the plan had changed. I was to be sewn up backstage. I was taken around the block in the Ambulance and walked into a blinding white, empty concrete room, with several bright florescent lights. There was a solitary bench, which I was laid on. Within seconds the empty room was full of 15 or so Medics clocking onto duty. They all spoke loudly in a strange language, in the strange scary room. Someone brought a bin over and I feared for the leg, but it was OK, the bin was for the wrapper coming off the big needle someone had pulled out. A lady slapped my shin. `I looked up in alarm as she smiled and said “can you feel that?”. The injection didn’t seem to be working yet.

tbc

a health and safety issue

So, where was I? Oh yes, we arranged to meet up outside the venue at 7pm. When we got there it was a little chaotic as there were two entrances and hundreds of people outside. Some of the winners were already there and scared of the huge queues, but I soon established the guest list area and all the names were listed and there was no queue there at all. We were only waiting for four more to turn. One of them rang three times for our location and still couldn’t see us. In desperation, I walked towards them with one hand waving in the air and I scoured the crowd.

Then, out of nowhere, crash. My left shin hit a decorative paving stone, followed by my knee smashing against the floor…while bearing the full weight of my body. I quickly looked around to see what had happened and I saw a horse shoe pattern of decorative stones, exactly the same colour as the pavement, sticking out of the ground. I have a photo of this hideous Health & Safety breech on the way. I rolled over and cried out in pain. But on looking down at my knee and seeing no blood, I carried on with my call. In shock I suppose, I simply changed the directions to “we’re by the Ambulance”. For luckily I had fallen in front of a Red Cross ambulance. A paramedic rushed over and immediately started to massage my wound. Once I’d finished talking I looked down at my leg again and I was sickened at the sight. There was a big hole and a maggot of my fat hanging out of it.

tbc

bear with me, someone will end up in stitches

If I’m being honest I always knew that something would go wrong but even I had underestimated the full extent of the horror to be unveiled to you. After all the last time I brought GF competition winners to Spain the artist pulled out of the show the day before and LLT busted her big toe open. But, you can’t let paranoia ruin things and so, I planned it as meticulously as I could and hoped for the best. I mean what could go wrong during a trip to another country with 11 strangers from up North?

The night before we were due to leave, I planned an early night, I did my packing and last minute chores and I was just about to settle on the couch when I noticed I had a missed call and a message from someone unknown to my phone. Hoping it was a competition winner with a dumb last minute enquiry, I gingerly listened to the message. It seemed that Manchester, where they were all flying from, was bathed in a blanket of thick fog. Their flight was cancelled. Shit. I phoned the travel agent’s 24 hour phone line and discovered that it was true. I also discovered that BA do not have a 24 hour telephone number. What an outrage. I then spent approximately 25 minutes holding 11 seats on Manchester – Heathrow – Madrid flights that departed at 6.20am (2 hours earlier than planned and with a new stop off). The lucky winners would now need to be at the Airport at 5.20am and were even not guaranteed seats. Oh joy. At 9.45pm I began ringing round. I started with my colleague and mercy mercy me, she had just re-checked the web-site and for no apparent reason the flight was back. I immediately rang back the travel agent and hoped that she had not released the real seats to last minute sun seekers or that we would not have to buy them back at £1200 each. Ooh la la, they were still ours. I gleefully rang back my colleague and took the precaution of banning the competition winner from the internet until we were back.

At 7.15am the next day, while in the cab to Paddington (optimistic I know), I checked and both our flights were on schedule. I texted them both. The competition winner already knew, as she was in the Airport Bar having a beer. Hmm, hear alarm bells? Guess what? She was a joy and on meeting everyone at Madrid Airport, I found that they were all nice normal people. How lucky I thought as we jumped in 3 cabs to the hotel.

While trying to be polite I volunteered to take the worst seat in the cab and sat up front with the driver. This turned out to be a big no no. Before I sat down I removed a newspaper from the seat and placed it carefully on the dashboard. Unluckily for me I missed an envelope and sat on it. The driver noticed and glared at me while reeling off a torrent of abuse in Spanish. Again, I was a good girl in front of the winners, and I took the mad ramblings without responding as I normally would. I had just started to calm down when I noticed that the meter wasn’t running. I thought it odd, but again I didn’t make the normal fuss. The driver claimed not to speak English but he reacted a couple of times to things I said and I realised he was barking mad. So, I didn’t say a word when he laughed like a maniac and wrote down the fare at 40€. I thought just get away from him but I was a little unhappy when I discovered that the other 2 cabs had only charged 25€. Still I had petty cash, no real harm done. We checked into the hotel easily and arranged to meet outside the venue at 7pm. My colleague and I released from duties then spent a lovely afternoon being Laydee-like and shopped. We did this properly and literally until we dropped. We were tired and hungry by the time we sat down to eat and expectantly ordered a feast of pizza and green salad. Boy were we let down. The worst pizza ever and THE most rustic green salad ever. See for yourself.



The horrors are to be continued.

FOR FUTURE PRESENTATION

The story behind the making of this shaky image...............

unofficial book club meeting

I fought the flu and I won. My super human strength has returned and after 10 rounds with the flu virus that has decimated the office, I emerge unscathed. Inevitably, after one weekend studying procrastination and another fighting flu, I felt like making up for all those lost fun packed hours. I blame DJ Boyo. He called me into his office of Friday to listen to a new remix from my favourite band. IT WAS LOUD and before long I had my hands in the air. I emerged from his office with a huge grin on my face and I immediately emailed LLT to suggest a bit of a night. She has an essay to write and being my procrastination mentor, she didn’t need much persuasion.

The evening soon developed a theme, that of Pullman’s Dark Materials, and we viewed everything in terms of adventures and tasks. We easily slipped into the characters of Lyra and Will on a journey to Saturday evening. We rendezvous in the Elephant for the first of the night’s tasks. We met up with a friend that Perry had introduced me to. “It’d be funny if he turned up” I said at one point but I definitely did not expect him to. Just as I was finishing my drink, Perry popped his head around the door of the pub. He immediately recognises LLT and is not in the least surprised to see her. His eyes then focus on me but it takes him a few seconds to realise that I am actually there, as I had been willing myself invisible. Once the spell wore off (I'm still learning it) he could see me and his eyes popped out of his head cartoon stylee. A chorus of polite hellos followed. It was a little awkward and I was keen to get on with the night’s next task, taking the bus home in Arctic conditions. For the benefit of our ex-pats I should add that it’s freezing cold in Blighty. LLT got me and we scarpered.

Apart from an ASBO OAP with a constant stream of loud incoming text message alerts (!!!), the journey was quick and painless. The next task was easy too, but essential. We stocked up with a night’s supply of vodka, fags and mixers. Once we got back to mine I immediately made a start on the night’s biggest task, lighting a fire to keep LLT warm. She has a terror of the cold. It was soon toasty warm as long as we stayed within 1 metre of the fire. I haven’t used it in months and it soon became clear that we did not have enough fuel. As I had been looking out the window and laughing at cold people, I left it until the very last minute before I became one of them. It was 3.30am before I finally left the flat decked out like a modern day Lyra on a mission. In reality I looked more like a Lego man with my huge coat and massive hair. With dogged determination, I carried a bag of coal, kindling and an emergency bottle of mixer home without stopping once.

Normally when LLT camps over I try to get her out on a night time expedition to my tree. And, when the appropriate time came I did ask her if she’d like to see this. We had spent the whole night honing our witch skills and finishing each others sentences (which came in very handy in the early hours). We're even virtually on the same page at book club. So, before I even asked, I knew that the answer would be no and due to the Artic conditions outside I, for once, agreed. To compensate, LLT agreed to don an extra layer and trek to the west wing to see the moon high in the crystal blue sky. Meanwhile I drew the curtains in the east wing and we watched as the sun rose above the roofs opposite and gradually melted the ice from their roofs.

We played cards throughout the night and I was on one hell of a roll. LLT acted like a trooper and resolved to keep playing until she won a game. She was battling feelings of doubt and insecurity and occasionally they manifested themselves in the use of a strange girly voice that sickened her to the very core. She made me promise to reprimand her every time it happened and my Matron like style, ie barking, soon cured her of her ailment. She in turn diagnosed a terrible symptom in me. It seems that I am a show off and that taking picture photos of the score line and my winning cards for my blog is showing off. I self-treated and deleted them all the next day. It was Saturday by the time that LLT won a game and just as soon as she did, we both collapsed exhausted into 2 small heaps.

my adopted daemon

I have made a new friend and now have company of an evening.

catster appeal

I’ve been thinking about something Purplemafling said lately (although it wasn’t in German!), that we are supposed to love the season we were born in the most. For this Leo it means sadly waving bye bye to the summer. Winter for me means SAD! Of course, it doesn’t kick in ‘til January but it’s on it’s way and I’m dreading it already. In an effort to stay positive, trainee-hippy that I am, I’m looking to Nature. Gosh, there’s whole season to come before then.

I have found an autumnal Brockwell Park to be a great comfort. The late heatwave and mild October have left the leaves a wonderful mixture of green, yellow, orange and red. Conkers and acorns lay under every tree and the squirrels have postponed all thoughts of hibernation. This morning topped the lot. While out jogging at 7.30am (in my sun glasses, no make-up see Laydees) on a blanket of thin white frost, and against a crystal clear blue sky, I could see the waning full moon to the right and the rising sun to the left. I supposed I must have seen this before at some point, but I am so glad that I saw it today. It’s truly wonderful and I am officially appealing to catster to record this on her blog on behalf of our ex-pats. catster, set that alarm and be down the park at 7am please.

As I type, I have a full view of the yesterday's slightly waning full Moon and Mars. It’s been great being me today.

?

I’m more than a little concerned. There’s the most beautiful full moon out there (to the left of Mars) and I’m perfectly calm and not in the least bit manic.

i want to go here (corr)

“As if from Heaven itself, great curtains of delicate light hung and trembled. Pale green and rose-pink, and as transparent as the most fragile fabric, and at the bottom edge a profound and fiery crimson like the fires of Hell, they swung and shimmered loosely with more grace than the most skilful dancer. Lyra thought she could even hear them : a vast distant whispering swish. She was moved by it: it was so beautiful it was almost holy: she felt tears prick her eyes, and the tears splintered the light even further into prismatic rainbows. “

Lyra, from 'Northern Lights' by Philip Pullman

In real life too

stimulus : response

I had hoped to add more to my list of things to do when ill yesterday, but in the end I just dribbled on the couch all day. I did however think of something not to do, do not live above NN when ill. I’ve lived here happily for 10 years now, but them downstairs have ruined it for me. It’s routine for me to bang my bedroom floor violently to get them to turn their music down. It’s another bedroom under mine, so the could easily pick another room for their very late night music and shite bass playing. There’s monkeys who learn quicker than them. Bang = Turn it Down AND (very important) don’t keep doing it. My biggest fear is that they just don’t care. I mean they are already smoking skunk when I’m on the way to work!

Oh and now I can do this .....that'll do!!

ahhhh

For jazzshark

shopping

I look after the competitions at work and so far this year I’ve sent 4 people to Ibiza, 10 to New York and I’m taking 10 people to Madrid on the 22nd. I’ll only be there for 1 night. It’s OK laydees, I know what I have to do there in my one afternoon. Shop! I emailed the female work colleague who is going with me to suggest this. “Oh yes, one can never have too many bags or shoes.” Just as I think I’ve climbed a rung on the ladder. I en’t taking it that far.

☹ lergy

I think that I have finally succumbed to the bug that has decimated the office. The Boss Boss was wiped out for 4 weeks, several others have been knocked for 6 and it looks like even my super human defence system has been infiltrated.

I confided in the MD, a hippy/spiritual type (sort of). He advised taking a whole batch of natural drugs with the main ingredient being a spoonful of powdered vitamin C every hour for 8 hours on the first day, every 2 hours on the second, and so forth. He obviously doesn’t want me ringing in sick. He then told that no one (including him) had ever actually tried his recommended course of medication. “I’ll do it” I say in my pioneering NO fear attitude. This pleases him but then he confides that I will be at risk from diarrhoea. Not wanting to risk the consistency of my stools, I back out of the deal. Arf.

A VERY COMPLEX PERSONALITY

Today at work Booby asked me if I was seeing my boyfriend this weekend. I explained that I'm single and he told me that he’s not surprised that I haven’t got a boyfriend as I am a very demanding person. He then added that this is not a bad thing, it just means I have a very complex personality. I didn’t hit him!

BANG BANG

Hurrah!!!!

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES

Hurrah. Although I still cannot access anything from before last Thursday, everything has been found. I just can't have it. I have also been able to access and print off my contacts, I've had a peak at my in box (420 emails) and I have an email account. So, I can work.

My biggest smile of the day comes quite late. The whole network goes crazy. It’s pretty tense at work anyway as we have a single working it’s way up the Top Ten chart (hopefully). Then the phones lines go down for a short time, the internet for even longer and we can only receive emails. Hmm, how do contact a database without phone lines? That’s not funny. But what is funny is watching all the people who had remarked on how upset I got at being computer impotent for 2 days + and counting. A ha ha. A ha ha. They start to whimper at only 20 minutes. At an hour they are all up in arms. 2 hours down and they’ve lost it. Completely. “Light weights” I cry. “Take that feeling and multiple it by 2 ½ days”. I then told my Boss to go home as he was bringing me down.

More boos and hisses for codenamelizzy.

NOT ANOTHER GOOD DAY AT THE OFFICE

Pah! I’ve spent the last 1 ½ working days without access to incoming or outgoing emails, my contacts, my calendar, the internet and all of my lovely spreadsheets. Internal email was fully functional but knowing that the sandwich man was in reception and that half a dozen people had phoned in sick got me nowhere. It’s been torture. After having the briefest glimmer of hope in 1 ½ days…access to the internet.. cruelly snatched away after approx 30 seconds, I could finally take no more and I left 30 minutes earlier than normal. Protest! Plus, I cannot stop myself kicking a chair and having a codenamelizzy rant on the way out, across a long open plan office. This leads to my boss outdoing my dramatic exit. “Go on, go home. We don’t want you here, you’re bringing us down.” And then cheering “hurrah, hurrah, hurrah the witch is dead” as I flounce out, flipping the full length of my mane in his direction. Huh!

So, how now to settle my nerves, regain my perspective and, hopefully, my sense of humour. What would a laydee do? It’s takes only a few short seconds to come up with the correct answer. SHOP. I did it Friday night too.

So, I’m now sat here breaking in a pair of very expensive pair of jeans that cut off the air past my waist, in the hope that I will slim into them. How Laydee-like is that?