Pog.
Strange meeting, with apologies to wilfred owen...
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| On the road to Marrakech |
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Leach Pottery? Pah ...
My poor kidneys are so upset with me that I've decided I really must start doing something more useful - or at least less damaging - than going to the pub, at least once in a while. To this end, I have finally stopped dithering about and have booked myself an assessment at the local gym, which I looked round well over a month ago and decided then to join. That'll take care of a couple of evenings a week, and possibly a Sunday afternoon if I'm feeling particularly virtuous. Oh shush you lot. I've also been looking for a pottery class. And I have found one! It's about a five-minute walk from my house. I was about to fill in the form and send it off with a cheque (strike when the iron's hot and similar cliches), when I remembered my last foray into this field of art and craft. There was a particularly nasty shit-brown ashtray for my Dad - luckily for him, it was so badly made it shattered the first time it was washed. There was a small 'breakfast bowl' for my Mum - which looked like a misshapen pile of poo with a smallish hole in the middle - 'for the porridge', I told her. My model of Dougal from the Magic Roundabout, however, was a masterpiece. Until his head fell off. And I won't scare you with what happened to my teacher when she was foolish enough to let me try throwing a piece on the electric wheel. I still wonder sometimes how long it took to get that clay out from that far up her nose. Still, I'm sure I can do better than that this time. Just don't tell Shirly wotsit at Lewisham Arthouse. |
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It's alive!
Better be careful what I say about this PC. It kicked me off t' internet mid-email this morning and I'm only just back in, having got the nice IT bloke here to sort it unofficially. Without any intervention from yours truly, it apparently reset the proxy server to some old connection or other. And lovely IT Bloke agreed with me that it knows when you've been saying bad things about it and its Dad - it knows, you know. Shhhhhh ... |
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I 'ates ...
... Bill Gates. I kid you not. This bloody PC freezes, then crashes, at least once a day and always when I've just done something very time-consuming and fiddly and a split second before I save it. Bastard, bastard bloody Windows. |
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Where DID the weekend go?
Friday evening was fun, apart from lovely M's boyfriend A wanging on again (as always) about himself 'not really being gay'. The tosser. Oh - and I was more than a bit peed-off when I got home Friday night, having lost one of my favourite earrings (I'd nearly lost it on the Tube earlier in the day - it was being pushed up by my scarf). I know I had them both before I left the bar. Probably dropped outside on the pavement, damn it. It wasn't worth anything much - except to me. So I spent Saturday doing domestic stuff - having decided if I was going to feel grumpy, I might as well work through it and end up with a clean flat, clean clothes and nice fresh food at the end of it. So I vacuumed, dusted, did 2 loads of washing, cleaned the fridge, got a charity bag of clothes ready to go, then walked down to the market in the sunshine and bought fresh fruit and veg, and chicken, and flowers, and a birthday present for my brother-in-law. Then I came home and cooked quantities of chicken, some with Ras-al-Hanaa, some with Harissa, some with lemon and garlic and wine, filling the flat with good smells. The chore therapy worked a treat (as did the sunny walk) and I was happy and smug by teatime. Sunday afternoon we went out for an early birthday lunch with Beau (his birthday is today, but he is currently working most days and very silly hours on a film). We went for dim sum at Ping Pong on Gt Marlborough St (having forgotten that it was Chinese New Year yesterday, getting up there through the crowds was quite an adventure). We found there were no Pigs in our party - two Horses, a Dragon, a Sheep and a Monkey (no prizes for guessing which I am). Great food, a couple of beers, then Beau went back to work (mind you, for £400 a day, I think I might also have been tempted to put in the extra time), and poor Chefboy was so knackered he staggered off home to lie on the cushions and watch crap telly. It was a fun afternoon, except for Chefgirl's stupid husband (we suspect more than a touch of Asperger's) being grumpy and ruining Beau's birthday surprise, as in 'I hear you're jumping out of a plane, Beau?!'. He proceeded to say it was Chefgirl's fault for not telling him it was a secret. As if Chefboy would tell his husband what his present was the day before his birthday. Twat. I had a couple of pints with Conchita and was home about 7.30. Conchita is trying to return to his old scrounging ways - he has booked his next holiday (to Buenos Aires - no cheap packages for this boy) and is now not putting his hand in his pocket for anything - not even a good friend's birthday lunch. I'm going to have to avoid going out with him for a bit- he cost me his share of lunch and 4 pints of lager yesterday! I wouldn't mind really, if he ever reciprocated, but fail to see why I should subsidise his social life so he can pay for a long-haul holiday. So, Happy Year of the Pig to y'all. |
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No contest
Let me see, what shall I do now? The choices are: make 20 or so calls to people who really don't want to be nagged about not answering invitations on a Friday afternoon; OR close down the PC, switch the voicemail on, and bugger off to Greenwich to meet two of the boys for a catch-up. Au revoir mes enfants! |
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I'm not sure how it happened ...
... but I appear to be wearing a black one of these. It comes of searching slightly blearily through the wardrobe and being unable to make a decision about wearing more than one thing today.
With flat black boots and a denim jacket, mind. Don't want to be accused of being too girly. |
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Happy NID*
Following is the text of an email exchange between LT-Girl and MWGMTJ Boss (from my old 'let's-all-have-a-nervous-breakdown' job) - for the purposes of this blog he is known as GayBoss (and no, he really can't spell 'me'): From: LT-Girl GayBossThanks so much for the card - it's lovely. Really nice thought. Sent: 13 February 2007 20:22 To: LT-Girl Subject: RE: That's two more than be darling! x ________________________________________ and that is my last word on Valentine's Day. Ok? (*As Cheapy has pointed out elsewhere, today is also National Impotence Day. Hurrah!) |
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