Well, well, well - here we are, several weeks lapsed between posts. And sadly nobody to blame but my own sorry self.
Last week, for what must be the first time ever in my career, I had a totally PR experience. On Wednesday night I went along to help with the ING end of season F1 party and (after a few short hours of standing around in the rain with an ING umbrella) found myself sipping champagne with the stars. Well, not that many recognisable stars but at least more than I have previously been in the same room with, B-List or eitherwise. Then the following day, I recovered from a somewhat distinctive headache by going to a long schmooze-fest of a lunch. Beats carrying boxes around and getting shouted at on the phone, which is what my job usually seems to entail. No doubt it'll be another five years before it happens again.
In terms of other recent activities, October saw me whizzing off to Cardiff for Jamila's birthday and helping her cater a dinner party for a dozen guests. What seemed like a daunting task at first turned out to be absurdly easy - once I'd delegated all the hard bits to my minions of course.
November saw me back again for an evening with Bill Bailey. Lionel Richie is a horse-faced drivel monger. Apparently.
In other news I have finally managed to return to going to Ceroc on a regular basis - strictly speaking, perhaps a more expensive hobby than I should have considering the state of my credit card bill but if I looked at it that way, I can barely afford to stay home and watch paint dry, so it's not much of an argument.
The end of the year is nigh and I am off to the sandlands in two short weeks. Plans for nails, coffees and massages already in place. Hurrah!
Flatmate Nick called Claude and Eustace fat the other day - my concern at the idea of leaving him in charge of them while I'm away steadily grows.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
Last (wo)man standing
At various points this week has felt slow, but today has simply slipped away from me and I'm not sure where the time has gone. It's Friday night and I'm the last one left in the office - does this make me the most conscientious or the most inefficient employee?
Staffed an interview today where I felt as though I understood nothing at all - I just sat there, attempted to take notes and eventually gave up after half a page of incomplete sentences stripped my will to continue. They were ostensibly talking about on-demand desktop streaming solutions (as you do) but it could have been red propaganda for all I knew. It's moments like those that remind me of how underrated PR girls are - what other job requires you to know everything about everything (or at least convincingly sound like you do) but still dooms you to a life of being written off by people with so-called serious jobs, as a bimbo who sips champagne and giggles at parties for a living.
Whoa, if I'm not careful I might undo a lot of the careful work I've done in maintaining that I don't like what I do... right, moving on...
Entourage and Ugly Betty are back on. Between those, Heroes and Spooks I'm back to having no reason to leave the house in the evenings. Not a bad idea, when I look (and shudder) at my disturbingly high credit card bill.
Rugby World Cup Final tomorrow night. Although I have no national or patriotic reason to watch it, somehow I have slowly got sucked into the rugby fervour of the last week or so. The end is nigh.
Staffed an interview today where I felt as though I understood nothing at all - I just sat there, attempted to take notes and eventually gave up after half a page of incomplete sentences stripped my will to continue. They were ostensibly talking about on-demand desktop streaming solutions (as you do) but it could have been red propaganda for all I knew. It's moments like those that remind me of how underrated PR girls are - what other job requires you to know everything about everything (or at least convincingly sound like you do) but still dooms you to a life of being written off by people with so-called serious jobs, as a bimbo who sips champagne and giggles at parties for a living.
Whoa, if I'm not careful I might undo a lot of the careful work I've done in maintaining that I don't like what I do... right, moving on...
Entourage and Ugly Betty are back on. Between those, Heroes and Spooks I'm back to having no reason to leave the house in the evenings. Not a bad idea, when I look (and shudder) at my disturbingly high credit card bill.
Rugby World Cup Final tomorrow night. Although I have no national or patriotic reason to watch it, somehow I have slowly got sucked into the rugby fervour of the last week or so. The end is nigh.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Tsk Tsk Tsk
Well, loyal readers, there's simply no excuse for this sort of tardiness, is there?
What have I been up to? It's hard to say - I think I've got into that stretch of routine where the days seem to blend together and not many differ from those that come before or after them.
It's been a busy last few weeks for Dubai visitors, as the Peters, Natalie and Adi all made an appearance on these sunny shores. There's something so heartwarming about being able to catch up with people you haven't seen or spoken to in ages but can just instinctively connect with every time you see them. Lucky Lakshmi to have friends like these.
The big house move has happened and I have spent the last 10 days in the new homestead - mostly cleaning and rearranging but it does feel like home already, which is surely the point. Nick and Monckton don't appear ready to boot me out for being a bossy broad just yet but one cannot help but think that it's only a matter of time...
The various forms of transatlantic travel I had planned all seem to have ground to a halt once I had to consider the logistics and relative value of schlepping between three cities in 6 days. Still, have booked tickets back to Dubai for the Yuletide season so all is not lost. A couple of Cardiff journeys coming up soon too, once for Jamila's birthday and another to watch Bill Bailey live, as well as a potential visit to an English country house next weekend, so lots of other things to be getting on with in the immediate future.
Have managed to slice my finger open and bleed profusely into several bandages over the last couple of days but it was all in aid of slicing a genuine New York bagel - a loftier goal than which surely nobody can identify?
And what's an update from England good for without a mention of the weather. It's cold, wet and miserable. For a change.
Have been far too sociable for the last week, so off home to watch Heroes and slip between the sheets at a reasonable hour tonight.
What have I been up to? It's hard to say - I think I've got into that stretch of routine where the days seem to blend together and not many differ from those that come before or after them.
It's been a busy last few weeks for Dubai visitors, as the Peters, Natalie and Adi all made an appearance on these sunny shores. There's something so heartwarming about being able to catch up with people you haven't seen or spoken to in ages but can just instinctively connect with every time you see them. Lucky Lakshmi to have friends like these.
The big house move has happened and I have spent the last 10 days in the new homestead - mostly cleaning and rearranging but it does feel like home already, which is surely the point. Nick and Monckton don't appear ready to boot me out for being a bossy broad just yet but one cannot help but think that it's only a matter of time...
The various forms of transatlantic travel I had planned all seem to have ground to a halt once I had to consider the logistics and relative value of schlepping between three cities in 6 days. Still, have booked tickets back to Dubai for the Yuletide season so all is not lost. A couple of Cardiff journeys coming up soon too, once for Jamila's birthday and another to watch Bill Bailey live, as well as a potential visit to an English country house next weekend, so lots of other things to be getting on with in the immediate future.
Have managed to slice my finger open and bleed profusely into several bandages over the last couple of days but it was all in aid of slicing a genuine New York bagel - a loftier goal than which surely nobody can identify?
And what's an update from England good for without a mention of the weather. It's cold, wet and miserable. For a change.
Have been far too sociable for the last week, so off home to watch Heroes and slip between the sheets at a reasonable hour tonight.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
La dolce vita (and other Italian desserts)
Gosh I have been a grade-A shocker when it comes to posting!
Am sure many varied and exciting things have happened in the last month, but I can't remember most of them so I shall provide an abridged version:
Earlier in the week I managed to sneak out of work at 5.30 (i.e. the technical end of our working day, although rarely the customary one) and found myself at a bit of a loose end. So I wandered along down to the gym to fulfil the one appearance a month that I manage to put in, in order to justify the astronomical sum I fork over by way of membership fees. Never do I get more of a sense of how magical London really is until I'm walking along with no specific purpose - I think having destinations and deadlines can numb you to some of the city's charm, leading many people to think that perhaps it has none. In spite of being poor, perennially single, partially homeless and currently about two sizes too big for any of my clothes, walking along the Victoria Embankment I felt an overwhelming sense of goodwill. There must be fairydust in the air.
Busy few weeks ahead, with the Peters arriving today for a fortnight, a visit from Nathalie next weekend and moving/packing shenanigans to get on with.
No rest for the wicked.
Am sure many varied and exciting things have happened in the last month, but I can't remember most of them so I shall provide an abridged version:
- Did fun tour of major London museums when Jamila and Marc came to visit over Bank Holiday weekend - I love the British Museum
- Went to Italian embassy and got Schengen visa with no trouble whatsoever. So sucks to the Finnish embassy - ha-HA! Also fell mildly in love with attractive man behind the counter. Needless to say I have never seen him again. Ah well, such is the fleeting nature of love
- Worked on a client event that ended up with me being in the office at 5.30am. Well, actually, standing outside the office building for half an hour since it only opens at 6.00am when the security guard arrives
- Found new place to live
- Went to Italy for Laura and Matt's wedding
Earlier in the week I managed to sneak out of work at 5.30 (i.e. the technical end of our working day, although rarely the customary one) and found myself at a bit of a loose end. So I wandered along down to the gym to fulfil the one appearance a month that I manage to put in, in order to justify the astronomical sum I fork over by way of membership fees. Never do I get more of a sense of how magical London really is until I'm walking along with no specific purpose - I think having destinations and deadlines can numb you to some of the city's charm, leading many people to think that perhaps it has none. In spite of being poor, perennially single, partially homeless and currently about two sizes too big for any of my clothes, walking along the Victoria Embankment I felt an overwhelming sense of goodwill. There must be fairydust in the air.
Busy few weeks ahead, with the Peters arriving today for a fortnight, a visit from Nathalie next weekend and moving/packing shenanigans to get on with.
No rest for the wicked.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Some rocks and a hard place
I have admittedly been a bit rubbish at posting lately - for no more interesting reason than being busy at work and not wanting to spend more time in front of a computer than strictly necessary. Not sure why or when exactly the cloud of work-related busy-ness descended on my already reasonably eventful existence but it seems to have settled in and made itself comfortable while I wasn't looking.
Last weekend saw me gadding about the countryside, visiting Salisbury and cocking an eye at Stonehenge - something I've wanted to do for most of my adult existence. Not to diminish its value, but I must admit that Stonehenge did not look quite as I expected. In my mind's eye, it's always been rather mystical and windswept and solitarily located at the top of a hill. It is, in fact, on the side of the road and simply dripping in gawking visitors (yes, self included, I know). Nor is it as big as I thought. Not that 45 tonnes per stone is a size/weight to be sneezed at but I'm going on visual aspects alone here. Still, it was good to finally see it. And to tell the truth, I wasn't disappointed, just surprised.
Salisbury is a lovely little city too, with a beautiful Gothic cathedral, river flowing through the centre and some nice little walkways. Sadly I doubt there is much demand for PR professionals there so moving over may not be an option. Yet.
Speaking of moving, it's been 4 months and I was clearly getting too close to settling in, so the laughing Gods have arranged for me to have to move house. Again.
Italy in a few weeks and then some talk of American adventures in October, so lots to be getting on with in the short term future. Ah well, no rest for the wicked, as 'they' say.
Last weekend saw me gadding about the countryside, visiting Salisbury and cocking an eye at Stonehenge - something I've wanted to do for most of my adult existence. Not to diminish its value, but I must admit that Stonehenge did not look quite as I expected. In my mind's eye, it's always been rather mystical and windswept and solitarily located at the top of a hill. It is, in fact, on the side of the road and simply dripping in gawking visitors (yes, self included, I know). Nor is it as big as I thought. Not that 45 tonnes per stone is a size/weight to be sneezed at but I'm going on visual aspects alone here. Still, it was good to finally see it. And to tell the truth, I wasn't disappointed, just surprised.
Salisbury is a lovely little city too, with a beautiful Gothic cathedral, river flowing through the centre and some nice little walkways. Sadly I doubt there is much demand for PR professionals there so moving over may not be an option. Yet.
Speaking of moving, it's been 4 months and I was clearly getting too close to settling in, so the laughing Gods have arranged for me to have to move house. Again.
Italy in a few weeks and then some talk of American adventures in October, so lots to be getting on with in the short term future. Ah well, no rest for the wicked, as 'they' say.
Monday, July 30, 2007
You can't take the sky from me
After watching all 7 seasons of Buffy in a very short span of time, thought I might want a break from fantasy/sci-fi type DVD box sets. So what am I currently watching? Doctor Who and Firefly (Joss Whedon's other offering, which charmingly and humourously crosses Westerns with space travel and throws Chinese phrases and cultural influences in for good measure, but which was cruelly and prematurely ripped from the airwaves. No doubt to make way for another mind-numbing reality show about unattractive women and their quest to be the world's best chihuahua juggler or similar). Naturally.
The weekend whizzed by in a blur of running errands and attending KY's summer-ish barbecue. Can't believe it's almost August.
Today I am also a living embodiment of a cliche that I didn't think really ever happened. A colleague and I both turned up to work in the same dress. I have tried to cover up the fact (literally) by keeping my sweatshirt on all day but really this just serves me right for lowering my usual standards and making a purchase at H&M. Never again.
Matt and Laura's wedding in five short weeks - meaning I have four weeks to drop a dress size, find an appropriate outfit and pick out a present that will travel first to Italy and then back to Dubai. Oh yes, and somewhere along the way I must sort out getting a Schengen visa so they will actually let me into the country. Details, details.
The weekend whizzed by in a blur of running errands and attending KY's summer-ish barbecue. Can't believe it's almost August.
Today I am also a living embodiment of a cliche that I didn't think really ever happened. A colleague and I both turned up to work in the same dress. I have tried to cover up the fact (literally) by keeping my sweatshirt on all day but really this just serves me right for lowering my usual standards and making a purchase at H&M. Never again.
Matt and Laura's wedding in five short weeks - meaning I have four weeks to drop a dress size, find an appropriate outfit and pick out a present that will travel first to Italy and then back to Dubai. Oh yes, and somewhere along the way I must sort out getting a Schengen visa so they will actually let me into the country. Details, details.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Closure
Well, it's happened.
The seventh and final Harry Potter came out over the weekend and the world now knows the end of the saga. Have to say, after getting off to a late start on reading the Harry books, the series has been a very formative part of the last few years for me - culminating with my decision to make no other plans for last weekend than to pick up and read my pre-ordered copy.
Was it worth it? Depends how you look at it really. On one hand, I am glad to know how the stories end, what happens to which of the characters and which of my theories were right. (Three and a half of them, in case you're wondering) On the flip side, it's not the fastest paced book of the series and I did find there were a few repetitive and somewhat unnecessary sequences that we could have done without.
On the whole though, the overwhelming feeling that we're at the end of an era overshadows any specific opinions about Deathly Hallows itself. Besides being a basic good vs evil tale (with not especially concealed references to Nazi Germany among others), I think the books appeal to such a wide audience because there's something for everyone in the tale. There are loads of characters, meaning almost everyone has one (or more) than they can relate to and connect with. Being a teenager is a pretty universal experience and who doesn't want (on some level) to be a hero?
Whatever will we do now?
The seventh and final Harry Potter came out over the weekend and the world now knows the end of the saga. Have to say, after getting off to a late start on reading the Harry books, the series has been a very formative part of the last few years for me - culminating with my decision to make no other plans for last weekend than to pick up and read my pre-ordered copy.
Was it worth it? Depends how you look at it really. On one hand, I am glad to know how the stories end, what happens to which of the characters and which of my theories were right. (Three and a half of them, in case you're wondering) On the flip side, it's not the fastest paced book of the series and I did find there were a few repetitive and somewhat unnecessary sequences that we could have done without.
On the whole though, the overwhelming feeling that we're at the end of an era overshadows any specific opinions about Deathly Hallows itself. Besides being a basic good vs evil tale (with not especially concealed references to Nazi Germany among others), I think the books appeal to such a wide audience because there's something for everyone in the tale. There are loads of characters, meaning almost everyone has one (or more) than they can relate to and connect with. Being a teenager is a pretty universal experience and who doesn't want (on some level) to be a hero?
Whatever will we do now?
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Cultural experiences of all sorts
Another busy week seems to have flown by and I found myself surprised (but pleased) to get to the weekend sooner than I expected.
After being stood up by a busy Mr Kenny on Tuesday I anticipated no other significant social activity last week. Famous last words indeed for the following two evenings saw me out and about. An unexpected night out erupted on Wednesday when I went for 'a drink after work' with a new colleague/friend who I proudly introduced to Gordon's and then dragged off to China Town to mangle a spot of dinner. By some strange coincidence we ended up back at the same place Geoff and I chose at random the night we were getting dinner in China Town earlier in the year. Clearly New Fook Lam Moon has some sort of sub-conscious hold over me. On Thursday KY and I went along to Shoreditch with Rachel and a couple of her colleagues, with a view to eyeballing the banker types said to haunt that neighbourhood. Being chatty girls though, we lost track of this objective pretty early in and just ended up having a giggly girls' drinks and dinner sort of evening. Fun despite not strictly achieving the set goals for the evening.
With no Jonathan Ross show to watch until September, Friday night passed in a blur of nothingness and I spent all of Saturday lounging about and preparing for my cinema expedition to watch Harry Potter & The Order Of The Phoenix. Which was BRILLIANT. From the phenomenal early scene where Harry and members of the Order fly their broomsticks along the Thames and through London at night, to the suitably and well abridged fight in the Ministry of Magic at the end, this was easily the best Harry Potter movie so far. Only 4 days until the final book comes out and I can barely think of anything else in the meantime.
On Saturday KY, Rachel and I set off for the countryside with a view to broadening our cultural horizons. A bit of sat-nav guided turn-missing meant we didn't get where we initially planned to go but were suitably compensated when we went straight to lunch at a pub that came highly recommended by an ex-boss (of mine anyway, he's still KY's boss) which fully deserved the build-up he gave it. Random cultural experiences were still to be had when we spotted and popped into a castle on the drive back. The brochure said the castle was built in 1385 but I'm convinced it wasn't there when we drove past it on the way to lunch an hour earlier. Bizarre.
Work is busy but productive this week. As regards social activities, I have already got off to a good start last night by skipping the gym to go for a drink with colleague from above. Am sensing a pattern developing. However, as am under strict instructions from Mum to 'go out and meet people', surely I have no choice but to give in?
After being stood up by a busy Mr Kenny on Tuesday I anticipated no other significant social activity last week. Famous last words indeed for the following two evenings saw me out and about. An unexpected night out erupted on Wednesday when I went for 'a drink after work' with a new colleague/friend who I proudly introduced to Gordon's and then dragged off to China Town to mangle a spot of dinner. By some strange coincidence we ended up back at the same place Geoff and I chose at random the night we were getting dinner in China Town earlier in the year. Clearly New Fook Lam Moon has some sort of sub-conscious hold over me. On Thursday KY and I went along to Shoreditch with Rachel and a couple of her colleagues, with a view to eyeballing the banker types said to haunt that neighbourhood. Being chatty girls though, we lost track of this objective pretty early in and just ended up having a giggly girls' drinks and dinner sort of evening. Fun despite not strictly achieving the set goals for the evening.
With no Jonathan Ross show to watch until September, Friday night passed in a blur of nothingness and I spent all of Saturday lounging about and preparing for my cinema expedition to watch Harry Potter & The Order Of The Phoenix. Which was BRILLIANT. From the phenomenal early scene where Harry and members of the Order fly their broomsticks along the Thames and through London at night, to the suitably and well abridged fight in the Ministry of Magic at the end, this was easily the best Harry Potter movie so far. Only 4 days until the final book comes out and I can barely think of anything else in the meantime.
On Saturday KY, Rachel and I set off for the countryside with a view to broadening our cultural horizons. A bit of sat-nav guided turn-missing meant we didn't get where we initially planned to go but were suitably compensated when we went straight to lunch at a pub that came highly recommended by an ex-boss (of mine anyway, he's still KY's boss) which fully deserved the build-up he gave it. Random cultural experiences were still to be had when we spotted and popped into a castle on the drive back. The brochure said the castle was built in 1385 but I'm convinced it wasn't there when we drove past it on the way to lunch an hour earlier. Bizarre.
Work is busy but productive this week. As regards social activities, I have already got off to a good start last night by skipping the gym to go for a drink with colleague from above. Am sensing a pattern developing. However, as am under strict instructions from Mum to 'go out and meet people', surely I have no choice but to give in?
Monday, July 09, 2007
Weather and deep-ish thoughts
So, London has torn off its whiskers and revealed its true self over the last few weeks, making no pretence at sunshine or warmth as it did last summer (thus luring me into a false sense of security when I first arrived). It has been wet, moist, damp, aqueous, moist and soggy in turns since I got back from various travels, with no signs of change imminent.
Until this past weekend, that is, which was heavenly - bright and warm with temperatures in the early 20s and not the merest suspicion of rain to be seen. And London rejoiced by simultaneously hosting Wimbledon 2007 finals, the British Grand Prix, Live Earth, Le Tour de France and no doubt several other less well known but not less worthy events. I celebrated by spending a third of the weekend in bed with a cold, another third by braving Oxford Street on a Saturday and getting severe crowd rage, and a final third in a darkened cinema watching Ocean's 13.
Fear not though, they're predicting that we'll go back to rain and storms this week, so I can go back to my usual routine of wearing flip flops and walking around outside.
Last week KY, Rachel, James and I went to watch some sort of independent play malarkey at the Old Red Lion Theatre - a Canadian production named (aptly it turns out) Get Away. Badly delivered monologues about a post-apocalyptic world and paedophile undertones ensured that we did, as soon as they broke for interval.
Three days to the fifth Harry Potter film. Eleven to the seventh and final book. As this era comes to an end, I found myself speculating on whether the Harry phenomenon might be the pop culture influence that defines my youth. I mean I like the Beatles and many people love Star Wars but for someone my age or younger, I wonder if we can really know what it felt like to feel excited about them, look forward to them and experience them when they first happen. I may own every Beatles album but I'll never understand what it's like to have their music happen in my lifetime. And perhaps that's what Harry does for me? I've invested the last seven years in learning about him, following his every move, hypothesising what will happen next to him and, it appears now, contemplating on what his life means to me. I can barely contain my excitement at the next film (found myself ever so slightly teary-eyed at the posters outside the Odeon in Leicester Square and watching the trailers has routinely sent me into supersonic high pitched squeaks, ever since the first one back in 2001) and have been counting down to this book coming out since I finished the last one in a single day back in 2005. I'm not sure anything else has, or necessarily can, mean so much without actually being a true-life experience. And for kids in the future, whose parents will no doubt get them the Harry Potter books, the same way the rest of us watched Star Wars or read Lord of The Rings after the fact, which they will probably love and treasure, it will still never feel like this. Somehow I like that idea. I only hope that we don't become so degenerate as a society that the next set of kids never have a similar experience of their own.
Until this past weekend, that is, which was heavenly - bright and warm with temperatures in the early 20s and not the merest suspicion of rain to be seen. And London rejoiced by simultaneously hosting Wimbledon 2007 finals, the British Grand Prix, Live Earth, Le Tour de France and no doubt several other less well known but not less worthy events. I celebrated by spending a third of the weekend in bed with a cold, another third by braving Oxford Street on a Saturday and getting severe crowd rage, and a final third in a darkened cinema watching Ocean's 13.
Fear not though, they're predicting that we'll go back to rain and storms this week, so I can go back to my usual routine of wearing flip flops and walking around outside.
Last week KY, Rachel, James and I went to watch some sort of independent play malarkey at the Old Red Lion Theatre - a Canadian production named (aptly it turns out) Get Away. Badly delivered monologues about a post-apocalyptic world and paedophile undertones ensured that we did, as soon as they broke for interval.
Three days to the fifth Harry Potter film. Eleven to the seventh and final book. As this era comes to an end, I found myself speculating on whether the Harry phenomenon might be the pop culture influence that defines my youth. I mean I like the Beatles and many people love Star Wars but for someone my age or younger, I wonder if we can really know what it felt like to feel excited about them, look forward to them and experience them when they first happen. I may own every Beatles album but I'll never understand what it's like to have their music happen in my lifetime. And perhaps that's what Harry does for me? I've invested the last seven years in learning about him, following his every move, hypothesising what will happen next to him and, it appears now, contemplating on what his life means to me. I can barely contain my excitement at the next film (found myself ever so slightly teary-eyed at the posters outside the Odeon in Leicester Square and watching the trailers has routinely sent me into supersonic high pitched squeaks, ever since the first one back in 2001) and have been counting down to this book coming out since I finished the last one in a single day back in 2005. I'm not sure anything else has, or necessarily can, mean so much without actually being a true-life experience. And for kids in the future, whose parents will no doubt get them the Harry Potter books, the same way the rest of us watched Star Wars or read Lord of The Rings after the fact, which they will probably love and treasure, it will still never feel like this. Somehow I like that idea. I only hope that we don't become so degenerate as a society that the next set of kids never have a similar experience of their own.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Desired by many celebrities
Received this excerpt in an email today and thought I had to share. It's taken from the website of a Russian restaurant/night club in New York and that's really all I know about it, but it's also all you really need to know in advance...
Named after an Odessa beauty Tatiana, who is frequently seen making rounds in the exotic andgrandiose restaurant. The Brighton Beach mystery of tradition unravels before your very eyes. I call it dinning with attitude. The scene that opens up is something out of a James Bond movie "From Russia with Love". Its Sex in the City mixed in Sleepless on Brighton Beach. Vodka and Cognac pours like fountain Di Trevi in Rome.
Ladies hang on to your husbands and guys don't forget to shave, because there are plenty of people to impress. You do not need a red carpet invitation to see city's top fashion worn in style and such sex appeal that is even desired by many celebrities.
Named after an Odessa beauty Tatiana, who is frequently seen making rounds in the exotic andgrandiose restaurant. The Brighton Beach mystery of tradition unravels before your very eyes. I call it dinning with attitude. The scene that opens up is something out of a James Bond movie "From Russia with Love". Its Sex in the City mixed in Sleepless on Brighton Beach. Vodka and Cognac pours like fountain Di Trevi in Rome.
Ladies hang on to your husbands and guys don't forget to shave, because there are plenty of people to impress. You do not need a red carpet invitation to see city's top fashion worn in style and such sex appeal that is even desired by many celebrities.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
If the name fits...
Always wanting to spread sweetness and light, I picked up some candy while I was in Finland, for the folks back here at the office. I followed Tiina's advice on what brand might be representative of Finnish preferences when it comes to boiled sweets and bought a bag of a kind that she assured me she had always enjoyed as a child.
Upon return and opening of bag, am intrigued to note that while none of the wrappers give any indication of the flavours contained within, there is one type featuring an illustration of a lobster. This particular flavour is labelled Krapu.
I shudder to contemplate what taste sensation awaits.
Upon return and opening of bag, am intrigued to note that while none of the wrappers give any indication of the flavours contained within, there is one type featuring an illustration of a lobster. This particular flavour is labelled Krapu.
I shudder to contemplate what taste sensation awaits.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Back on the chain gang
My but it's been a while! And what a full month June turned out to be. As was last June, so perhaps it's just that time of the year?
There was a week in the last month when I'd been in four countries in as many days - which sounds quite jetset but was actually just the result of visa shenanigans taking longer than expected. It also ended up in me having to unpack and pack again between trips in less than 24 hours - which was pure hell as I am, without contest, the world's worst packer. Ever.
The last few days in Dubai seem to blur together (probably due to the three-day migraine that took over most of them) so I doubt I did anything worth reporting.
The trip back to London, via Doha, was noteworthy partially because of the stalker who sneakily took my picture in the Dubai Duty Free and then tried to make conversation off the back of this extraordinarily scary behaviour when he sat next to me in the departure lounge. And the bus journey between the terminal and plane in Doha was so long I was convinced they were actually driving us to London. But apart from that the flight wasn't worth commenting on.
Briefly in London on the Wed and then off to Finland on the Thurs afternoon. KY and I braved the unspeakable horrors of RyanAir (including being asked to disembark as soon as we sat down, because some genius had driven a vehicle into the back of the airplane) to get to Tampere at midnight. At which point, it was lighter than it had been in London when we left three hours previously. Amazing. Then it got pitch dark and pelted down with rain. Oh well.
A short train journey the next day took us to Helsinki and onto the Russian train to St Petersburg. Which was the closest I'd like to get to a military experience. Stern-faced staff and stiff, high-backed chairs coupled with being scrutinised at the border reminded me that although Communism has been out of circulation for a while, the shadow of it looms pretty large over everyday Russian life. A feeling that was magnified when we got into St Petersburg and the locals were noticeable poker-faced and lacking in the general friendliness and willingness to help that usually accompanies addressing dimwitted tourists such as myself.
The weekend passed in a haze of dinners, drunken dancing and sentimental speeches about young Cam - with a lot of (well deserved) nice things being said about our charming host. My personal best moment was getting home in an alcohol-fuelled daze, walking into and getting in the lift of the wrong hotel on the first night. Only the realisation that there was no fifth floor (our room was on the fifth floor) button in the lift alerted me to the fact that I might not be in the Astoria. On the plus side, I was in the Angleterre just next door, so I didn't have to get involved in a hidous cross country trek, looking for the right place.
In spite of being so soundly asleep (read passed out) that I didn't hear the girls get home later (they were not quiet), I got myself up and went to the Hermitage museum the next morning. Which was awesome. Some of the rooms of the Winter Palace truly took my breath away, although I couldn't help the niggling thought that it was indeed the sort of excess that inevitably leads to revolution. Skip past some of the less interesting bits and the museum has an amazing picture gallery with Da Vincis, Rembrants, Picassos, a few Rodins and a host of Impressionist masters.
More excess on Saturday night, although KY, Tiina and I chose the sensible option and headed home before the bridges went up - well, almost, as we had to drive a long way around to find a bridge that was still down (there are nine bridges in St Petersburg. I think). And had to communicate to our Russian speaking driver that we would not be paying him 1200 extra rubles beyond the agreed price of 800, simply for the benefit of being forced to take the scenic route. Have to admit I had a fair few queasy moments wondering if we were going to be chucked out on the roadside and told to find our own way home, but fortunately the driver's enthusiasm for haggling seemed to wane after we said 'nyet' a few times. Loudly and vehemently, to make up for not knowing any other words.
Most of Sunday morning was a write-off but a pleasant afternoon was spent sipping coffee, beer and Jaegermeister (in that order) and eating fried bread at an Australian (presumably in deference to our valiant leader) pub. A quick venue change saw us off to dinner and much toasting over vodka shots. Later we hijacked a short bus (am reminded that the last time I went somewhere with James Weiss, a short bus was hijacked - the boy seems to make a habit of it), had awful singalongs and found ourself at Metro nightclub where the average age (male and female) was about 16. I'm not sure I've ever felt older than I did at this souped-up school disco, so KY and I escaped with Dan and Alex to a strip club. Not sure why this was meant to be an improvement but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
Back at the hotel at about 5.30 that morning, burgers, fries and last minute promises to catch up and keep in touch with all the nice people we'd met over the last couple of days. And I have to say, that is the best thing that came out of the weekend - the dinners, drinks and dancing were all fun, but it was the new friendships that really seem memorable now. We'll see how long that lasts!
Finland was a much more chilled out experience, from start to finish. (Or Finnish, if you prefer...) Helsinki is a nice little city and reminded me a lot of Cardiff, in its size and navigability. Although we stayed in what seemed like the world's most compact studio apartment (Tiina, KY, me and the dog), it was a relaxed time and cosy in an artist's studio sort of way. Which, in actual fact, is what it was. A tram journey through the city and then on to a bbq at Tom's (boyfriend of Viku, in whose flat we were camping) place. A vastly different experience than Russia but thoroughly enjoyable as we made more new friends (or stole them from Tiina, depending on how you look at it) who we expect to see here in the UK in a few weeks. One final night in Tampere (the city Tiina lives in), waffle fries with the best garlic aioli in the world and the holiday was sadly at an end.
Fortunately, the journey back wasn't too hideous and the wet weekend back was spent doing washing (myself and my clothes) and catching up on Buffy. Sunday morning, KY and I went for a very wet (and thus shortened) walk around the Common and then went to brunch with Guri, Rachel (newfound friends from the St P extravaganza) and assorted others.
Good times.
There was a week in the last month when I'd been in four countries in as many days - which sounds quite jetset but was actually just the result of visa shenanigans taking longer than expected. It also ended up in me having to unpack and pack again between trips in less than 24 hours - which was pure hell as I am, without contest, the world's worst packer. Ever.
The last few days in Dubai seem to blur together (probably due to the three-day migraine that took over most of them) so I doubt I did anything worth reporting.
The trip back to London, via Doha, was noteworthy partially because of the stalker who sneakily took my picture in the Dubai Duty Free and then tried to make conversation off the back of this extraordinarily scary behaviour when he sat next to me in the departure lounge. And the bus journey between the terminal and plane in Doha was so long I was convinced they were actually driving us to London. But apart from that the flight wasn't worth commenting on.
Briefly in London on the Wed and then off to Finland on the Thurs afternoon. KY and I braved the unspeakable horrors of RyanAir (including being asked to disembark as soon as we sat down, because some genius had driven a vehicle into the back of the airplane) to get to Tampere at midnight. At which point, it was lighter than it had been in London when we left three hours previously. Amazing. Then it got pitch dark and pelted down with rain. Oh well.
A short train journey the next day took us to Helsinki and onto the Russian train to St Petersburg. Which was the closest I'd like to get to a military experience. Stern-faced staff and stiff, high-backed chairs coupled with being scrutinised at the border reminded me that although Communism has been out of circulation for a while, the shadow of it looms pretty large over everyday Russian life. A feeling that was magnified when we got into St Petersburg and the locals were noticeable poker-faced and lacking in the general friendliness and willingness to help that usually accompanies addressing dimwitted tourists such as myself.
The weekend passed in a haze of dinners, drunken dancing and sentimental speeches about young Cam - with a lot of (well deserved) nice things being said about our charming host. My personal best moment was getting home in an alcohol-fuelled daze, walking into and getting in the lift of the wrong hotel on the first night. Only the realisation that there was no fifth floor (our room was on the fifth floor) button in the lift alerted me to the fact that I might not be in the Astoria. On the plus side, I was in the Angleterre just next door, so I didn't have to get involved in a hidous cross country trek, looking for the right place.
In spite of being so soundly asleep (read passed out) that I didn't hear the girls get home later (they were not quiet), I got myself up and went to the Hermitage museum the next morning. Which was awesome. Some of the rooms of the Winter Palace truly took my breath away, although I couldn't help the niggling thought that it was indeed the sort of excess that inevitably leads to revolution. Skip past some of the less interesting bits and the museum has an amazing picture gallery with Da Vincis, Rembrants, Picassos, a few Rodins and a host of Impressionist masters.
More excess on Saturday night, although KY, Tiina and I chose the sensible option and headed home before the bridges went up - well, almost, as we had to drive a long way around to find a bridge that was still down (there are nine bridges in St Petersburg. I think). And had to communicate to our Russian speaking driver that we would not be paying him 1200 extra rubles beyond the agreed price of 800, simply for the benefit of being forced to take the scenic route. Have to admit I had a fair few queasy moments wondering if we were going to be chucked out on the roadside and told to find our own way home, but fortunately the driver's enthusiasm for haggling seemed to wane after we said 'nyet' a few times. Loudly and vehemently, to make up for not knowing any other words.
Most of Sunday morning was a write-off but a pleasant afternoon was spent sipping coffee, beer and Jaegermeister (in that order) and eating fried bread at an Australian (presumably in deference to our valiant leader) pub. A quick venue change saw us off to dinner and much toasting over vodka shots. Later we hijacked a short bus (am reminded that the last time I went somewhere with James Weiss, a short bus was hijacked - the boy seems to make a habit of it), had awful singalongs and found ourself at Metro nightclub where the average age (male and female) was about 16. I'm not sure I've ever felt older than I did at this souped-up school disco, so KY and I escaped with Dan and Alex to a strip club. Not sure why this was meant to be an improvement but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
Back at the hotel at about 5.30 that morning, burgers, fries and last minute promises to catch up and keep in touch with all the nice people we'd met over the last couple of days. And I have to say, that is the best thing that came out of the weekend - the dinners, drinks and dancing were all fun, but it was the new friendships that really seem memorable now. We'll see how long that lasts!
Finland was a much more chilled out experience, from start to finish. (Or Finnish, if you prefer...) Helsinki is a nice little city and reminded me a lot of Cardiff, in its size and navigability. Although we stayed in what seemed like the world's most compact studio apartment (Tiina, KY, me and the dog), it was a relaxed time and cosy in an artist's studio sort of way. Which, in actual fact, is what it was. A tram journey through the city and then on to a bbq at Tom's (boyfriend of Viku, in whose flat we were camping) place. A vastly different experience than Russia but thoroughly enjoyable as we made more new friends (or stole them from Tiina, depending on how you look at it) who we expect to see here in the UK in a few weeks. One final night in Tampere (the city Tiina lives in), waffle fries with the best garlic aioli in the world and the holiday was sadly at an end.
Fortunately, the journey back wasn't too hideous and the wet weekend back was spent doing washing (myself and my clothes) and catching up on Buffy. Sunday morning, KY and I went for a very wet (and thus shortened) walk around the Common and then went to brunch with Guri, Rachel (newfound friends from the St P extravaganza) and assorted others.
Good times.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Sandlands, you gotta live it everyday
The madness continues as visa shenanigans don't seem to be happening in as timely a fashion as I would like.
A few more days in Dubai appear to be on the agenda, but the laughing gods are ensuring that each extra day is packed with yet another new/familiar adventure.
Thursday night saw me at the Aerosmith concert - it was as hot as Hades, under-catered and not especially well laid out but the boys from Boston ROCKED! Excellent show with way more energy than I'm capable of at easily 30 years younger than any of them. And oh my god is Steven Tyler an unattractive man... still, there was a great rendition of Dream On and lots to sing along to so I won't complain that his exterior was less than ornamental.
A surprisingly full Friday morning followed with a trip up to Sharjah to pick something up from Jamila's parents and then pretty much a full day of work - albeit conducted at Bert's Cafe and then Aimee's house, both in The Greens where Wi Fi access roams free and there are no silly firewalls that won't let me get into my email inbox.
Having volunteered to help out Greg (head of GCI in Qatar) with an event he was working on at the Burj Al Arab this week, I forced myself to go shopping on Sunday but with no positive outcome. Trekked the entire length and breadth of Mall of the Emirates and found a grand total of one item of clothing I didn't hate. Then couldn't find shoes to match. Well, not counting the perfect ones in Jimmy Choo. A late-blooming fragment of good sense kept me from buying them, but it was touch and go for a long minute.
So, in a combination of old and new bits and pieces off I went to the Burj last night to 'help out'. Which, as it turns out, consisted of standing around, sipping champagne, eating foie gras and looking beautiful. All tasks that are fortunately well within the scope of my abilities.
Good to know how some things never change though - at any press event there's always one sleazy journalist who wants to take your picture and tries to give you his business card with his 'personal number' on the back. Not even the Burj Al Arab, it appears, can stem this phenomenon. Which is, in its own way, somewhat reassuring.
Anyway, a few drinks at the Sky Bar later I took myself off home wondering whether I'd be glad to return to work and my humbler natural environment. I'm not. Working for a living is a grossly overrated experience.
A few more days in Dubai appear to be on the agenda, but the laughing gods are ensuring that each extra day is packed with yet another new/familiar adventure.
Thursday night saw me at the Aerosmith concert - it was as hot as Hades, under-catered and not especially well laid out but the boys from Boston ROCKED! Excellent show with way more energy than I'm capable of at easily 30 years younger than any of them. And oh my god is Steven Tyler an unattractive man... still, there was a great rendition of Dream On and lots to sing along to so I won't complain that his exterior was less than ornamental.
A surprisingly full Friday morning followed with a trip up to Sharjah to pick something up from Jamila's parents and then pretty much a full day of work - albeit conducted at Bert's Cafe and then Aimee's house, both in The Greens where Wi Fi access roams free and there are no silly firewalls that won't let me get into my email inbox.
Having volunteered to help out Greg (head of GCI in Qatar) with an event he was working on at the Burj Al Arab this week, I forced myself to go shopping on Sunday but with no positive outcome. Trekked the entire length and breadth of Mall of the Emirates and found a grand total of one item of clothing I didn't hate. Then couldn't find shoes to match. Well, not counting the perfect ones in Jimmy Choo. A late-blooming fragment of good sense kept me from buying them, but it was touch and go for a long minute.
So, in a combination of old and new bits and pieces off I went to the Burj last night to 'help out'. Which, as it turns out, consisted of standing around, sipping champagne, eating foie gras and looking beautiful. All tasks that are fortunately well within the scope of my abilities.
Good to know how some things never change though - at any press event there's always one sleazy journalist who wants to take your picture and tries to give you his business card with his 'personal number' on the back. Not even the Burj Al Arab, it appears, can stem this phenomenon. Which is, in its own way, somewhat reassuring.
Anyway, a few drinks at the Sky Bar later I took myself off home wondering whether I'd be glad to return to work and my humbler natural environment. I'm not. Working for a living is a grossly overrated experience.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Notes from a sandy country
Well, here I am in Sunny Dubai, almost feeling like I never left. Except, of course, that I did leave. A fact that I was reminded of when I took a slightly wrong turn tonight on the way home from Madinat Jumeirah and found myself on the way to Sharjah. As is standard practice in this city, they've changed the roads around again and the once familiar home town is turning into my own version of Planet of the Apes.
But it is good to be home - a pleasure to enjoy all my favourite things about the homefront without having to deal with the routine irritations that led to me wiping its dust from my shoes. Hurrah for shawarmas at Al Mallah after a night out; special queues for ladies at any government office; getting manicures and pedicures at NStyle just on a whim; the best fries in the world, served at Bar Zar; massages at SensAsia; random catch ups at one of the myriad coffee shops; the band at Jam Base; being able to drive to places rather than sweating over train schedules and tardiness; exchange rates of 7 to 1 working in my favour for a change. And of course, biggest hurrah for the family and friends that I miss, who make me feel so loved and popular that I forget it's still me we're talking about.
However, no points at all for having to work out of an office where smoking is allowed indoors for the benefit of so called creatives who apparently need nicotine to spur the sort of ideas that I wouldn't bother writing down for fear of offending the paper. Mistakenly allowed people to use the conference room I'm in for an impromptu meeting/brainstorm this afternoon. About 30 seconds in I was surrounded by a cloud of Marlboro Red's best work and having to stifle giggles over the apparent idea that dancing sausages could be used to promote mobile phones.
Oh and no nostalgia for heat, humidity, lecherous wrong number diallers who say they want to be your friend anyway, traffic jams and road rage either.
Moving on, a spot of unplanned Ceroc-ery with JP at Jam Base tonight reminded me of how long it's been since I did any sort of dancing and how truly ungainly I can be. Must remember to dance around my bedroom before I attempt a class on Saturday.
Aerosmith tomorrow night and several catching up extravaganzas scheduled over the next couple of days. At some point I must remember to pop along to the British embassy and sort out the visa that is actually the purpose of this visit.
Preparations for Cam's (and Tiina's) birthday jamboree continue and I'm resigning myself to not feeling particularly well rested until some time in July or thereabouts. Am also mildly concerned that truly drunken behaviour the other night following a painfully meagre amount of vodka might mean that Russia is not the most prudent destination for Lakshmi. Or perhaps it just means I need a bit of re-acclimatisation (is that a word?) after all the wagons I've been forcing myself on lately. Am sure it will all come flooding back once I get going. Hopefully only in the figurative rather than the literal sense.
But it is good to be home - a pleasure to enjoy all my favourite things about the homefront without having to deal with the routine irritations that led to me wiping its dust from my shoes. Hurrah for shawarmas at Al Mallah after a night out; special queues for ladies at any government office; getting manicures and pedicures at NStyle just on a whim; the best fries in the world, served at Bar Zar; massages at SensAsia; random catch ups at one of the myriad coffee shops; the band at Jam Base; being able to drive to places rather than sweating over train schedules and tardiness; exchange rates of 7 to 1 working in my favour for a change. And of course, biggest hurrah for the family and friends that I miss, who make me feel so loved and popular that I forget it's still me we're talking about.
However, no points at all for having to work out of an office where smoking is allowed indoors for the benefit of so called creatives who apparently need nicotine to spur the sort of ideas that I wouldn't bother writing down for fear of offending the paper. Mistakenly allowed people to use the conference room I'm in for an impromptu meeting/brainstorm this afternoon. About 30 seconds in I was surrounded by a cloud of Marlboro Red's best work and having to stifle giggles over the apparent idea that dancing sausages could be used to promote mobile phones.
Oh and no nostalgia for heat, humidity, lecherous wrong number diallers who say they want to be your friend anyway, traffic jams and road rage either.
Moving on, a spot of unplanned Ceroc-ery with JP at Jam Base tonight reminded me of how long it's been since I did any sort of dancing and how truly ungainly I can be. Must remember to dance around my bedroom before I attempt a class on Saturday.
Aerosmith tomorrow night and several catching up extravaganzas scheduled over the next couple of days. At some point I must remember to pop along to the British embassy and sort out the visa that is actually the purpose of this visit.
Preparations for Cam's (and Tiina's) birthday jamboree continue and I'm resigning myself to not feeling particularly well rested until some time in July or thereabouts. Am also mildly concerned that truly drunken behaviour the other night following a painfully meagre amount of vodka might mean that Russia is not the most prudent destination for Lakshmi. Or perhaps it just means I need a bit of re-acclimatisation (is that a word?) after all the wagons I've been forcing myself on lately. Am sure it will all come flooding back once I get going. Hopefully only in the figurative rather than the literal sense.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The speed of sound
Time flies when you're having fun. Or really, time just flies no matter what you're doing it seems. Almost the end of May meaning almost half way through this year already.
Strangely increasing workloads mean that I don't seem to get nearly as much time as I'd like for keeping this blog updated. Still, am doing better than Aimee whose once-inspiring example of bloggery has now fallen far short of the ideal.
First off, I must take back anything I said about the Finnish embassy - clearly the service you get there, like so many things in life, is completely dictated by the mood of the woman behind the counter. My second attempt went smoothly, with no signs of suspicion and my visa ready in three working days. So all systems are go for the Finland/Russia jamboree. Now all I need is some money and some clothes that fit.
After a full week of work (mostly consisting of many pointless graphs and charts that I put together and we then didn't use in the Dell quarterly review) and a Chinatown themed dinner experience with Mr Kenny, I settled into having no plans for the weekend, after Jamila deserted me and went to some sort of drumming event instead (yes, drumming - don't ask, I don't know).
Watched Spiderman 3 on Saturday afternoon - a lot more of the same sort of thing as Spidermen 1 & 2 but enjoyable nonetheless. I could criticise the length of the movie and how it possibly loses focus along the way by having too many villains on the go, but overall, I was most amused by how Peter Parker embracing his dark side mostly consisted of him wearing his hair badly and disco dancing goofily down the street. Still, fun to watch if you take it for what it is i.e. the third part of a successful franchise and thus under no obligation to be original. Pirates 3 and Ocean's 13 come out soon too but looks like my upcoming travels will get in the way of timely movie watching over the next few weeks.
Saturday night I finally finished the present I was working on for Baby Samantha - I have hesitated to mention it before because a) I didn't want her parents to know I was working on it and I flatter myself that they might read this blog sometime and b) it didn't look like I was going to finish it before Samantha went off to college so I didn't want to draw attention to my own inadequacies. However, now that it's done and I am all set to entrust it to the mails I can at least mention it in passing. That said, I have been known to send Christina her Christmas present in October of the following year, so maybe I shouldn't speak too soon.
Visited Shafina on Sunday and she is looking well and truly pregnant by now. Baby #2 is due in about September and at the rate little Yousuf is growing I'm concerned that the next time I look over at her, she'll have two teenage children who will roll their eyes at me and look bored at everything.
Can everyone please stop having babies?
Random boxes all over the office at the moment as we prepare for yet another desk swapping experiment. I'll miss the initial madness of unpacking and settling as I'll be in Dubai next week but that also means by the time I get back, my desk won't be where I left it. I can almost smell the confusion this will cause. In the meantime, have emptied the drawers of my desk and found that they contained:
Strangely increasing workloads mean that I don't seem to get nearly as much time as I'd like for keeping this blog updated. Still, am doing better than Aimee whose once-inspiring example of bloggery has now fallen far short of the ideal.
First off, I must take back anything I said about the Finnish embassy - clearly the service you get there, like so many things in life, is completely dictated by the mood of the woman behind the counter. My second attempt went smoothly, with no signs of suspicion and my visa ready in three working days. So all systems are go for the Finland/Russia jamboree. Now all I need is some money and some clothes that fit.
After a full week of work (mostly consisting of many pointless graphs and charts that I put together and we then didn't use in the Dell quarterly review) and a Chinatown themed dinner experience with Mr Kenny, I settled into having no plans for the weekend, after Jamila deserted me and went to some sort of drumming event instead (yes, drumming - don't ask, I don't know).
Watched Spiderman 3 on Saturday afternoon - a lot more of the same sort of thing as Spidermen 1 & 2 but enjoyable nonetheless. I could criticise the length of the movie and how it possibly loses focus along the way by having too many villains on the go, but overall, I was most amused by how Peter Parker embracing his dark side mostly consisted of him wearing his hair badly and disco dancing goofily down the street. Still, fun to watch if you take it for what it is i.e. the third part of a successful franchise and thus under no obligation to be original. Pirates 3 and Ocean's 13 come out soon too but looks like my upcoming travels will get in the way of timely movie watching over the next few weeks.
Saturday night I finally finished the present I was working on for Baby Samantha - I have hesitated to mention it before because a) I didn't want her parents to know I was working on it and I flatter myself that they might read this blog sometime and b) it didn't look like I was going to finish it before Samantha went off to college so I didn't want to draw attention to my own inadequacies. However, now that it's done and I am all set to entrust it to the mails I can at least mention it in passing. That said, I have been known to send Christina her Christmas present in October of the following year, so maybe I shouldn't speak too soon.
Visited Shafina on Sunday and she is looking well and truly pregnant by now. Baby #2 is due in about September and at the rate little Yousuf is growing I'm concerned that the next time I look over at her, she'll have two teenage children who will roll their eyes at me and look bored at everything.
Can everyone please stop having babies?
Random boxes all over the office at the moment as we prepare for yet another desk swapping experiment. I'll miss the initial madness of unpacking and settling as I'll be in Dubai next week but that also means by the time I get back, my desk won't be where I left it. I can almost smell the confusion this will cause. In the meantime, have emptied the drawers of my desk and found that they contained:
- Box of tissues
- Eye shadow
- Throat lozenges
- Nail polish remover pads
- Hair straighteners
- Yellow highlighter
- Hazelnut syrup for flavouring coffee
- Blank notepad
So, lots of useful, professional objects then.
Am travelling in three days time and have not yet figured out how I plan to get to the airport. Must get to that.Monday, May 14, 2007
Golden jubilee
50th post today.
Busy weekend - as in me actually doing things and being out of the house, not just full due to watching multiple episodes of Buffy - although, let's face it, I did do that too.
Saturday morning saw me set off with Heather and a few of her friends on a London walk themed 'The Triumph of the Bourgeoisie' which trekked us past houses of the prosperous of 19th century London, including the original Mr. Debenham. Started off around Holland Park and ended up in the Kensington Palace Gardens/Albert Memorial area. Quite a hike but very nice, in spite of the near constant rain and feeling a bit like a tired drowned rat towards the end.
Decided nobody could top Lordi so skipped Eurovision that night and went out with KY to her friend Chris' 30 birthday at Chateau 6. Champagne was flowing freely and yet I drank water all night. Damn you, diet! Met a gentleman there who said he thought I was 'intriguing' and 'quirky' but as he did not ask for my phone number before I left, I assume he really meant 'questionable' and 'strange'.
Extricated myself from the drunken masses at a respectable 11.45pm and then proceeded to have to run for every last train from every station I got to (Fulham Broadway, Earl's Court, Green Park, Stockwell) since the night bus I'd been informed I could take home did not actually turn out to go anywhere near my house or indeed Clapham at all. 15 minute journey to this shindig, 80 minute journey home in the early hours and in hurty pink shoes. Oh well, the price I pay for sociable behaviours.
London was cold and wet and pretty revolting on Sunday, but I braved the elements to do a bit of errand running as this is probably my last available weekend before I head for the sandlands. A cosy evening by the fire and a few episodes of Buffy rounded out the weekend. The musical episode is perhaps proof of why this might be the funniest and most self-aware show ever filmed.
I knew she'd eventually hook up with Spike.
Busy weekend - as in me actually doing things and being out of the house, not just full due to watching multiple episodes of Buffy - although, let's face it, I did do that too.
Saturday morning saw me set off with Heather and a few of her friends on a London walk themed 'The Triumph of the Bourgeoisie' which trekked us past houses of the prosperous of 19th century London, including the original Mr. Debenham. Started off around Holland Park and ended up in the Kensington Palace Gardens/Albert Memorial area. Quite a hike but very nice, in spite of the near constant rain and feeling a bit like a tired drowned rat towards the end.
Decided nobody could top Lordi so skipped Eurovision that night and went out with KY to her friend Chris' 30 birthday at Chateau 6. Champagne was flowing freely and yet I drank water all night. Damn you, diet! Met a gentleman there who said he thought I was 'intriguing' and 'quirky' but as he did not ask for my phone number before I left, I assume he really meant 'questionable' and 'strange'.
Extricated myself from the drunken masses at a respectable 11.45pm and then proceeded to have to run for every last train from every station I got to (Fulham Broadway, Earl's Court, Green Park, Stockwell) since the night bus I'd been informed I could take home did not actually turn out to go anywhere near my house or indeed Clapham at all. 15 minute journey to this shindig, 80 minute journey home in the early hours and in hurty pink shoes. Oh well, the price I pay for sociable behaviours.
London was cold and wet and pretty revolting on Sunday, but I braved the elements to do a bit of errand running as this is probably my last available weekend before I head for the sandlands. A cosy evening by the fire and a few episodes of Buffy rounded out the weekend. The musical episode is perhaps proof of why this might be the funniest and most self-aware show ever filmed.
I knew she'd eventually hook up with Spike.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Dingoes ate my baby
First Bank Holiday of May now over and I mostly spent it on the sofa, watching Buffy and reading Do Butlers Burgle Banks? - and scoffing vast amounts of ready-meals in preparation for giving up carbohydrates of all descriptions as of this week.
Got bored of the detox Diet of Death and am now on Day 2 of Atkins. No doubt I'll tire of this shortly too, but it might work while it lasts.
More embassy shenanigans scheduled for this week as I pick up my passport from the Russians and hand it over to the Finns. Wonder if dropping a word about my fondness for Lordi will win me any Brownie points with the Finnish embassy?
Have officially bought my ticket for trip to Dubai in a couple of weeks - am looking forward to seeing my old friends at N-Style again and Deema tells me Aerosmith will be playing during the week that I'm there. No doubt they'll have changed all the roads and put up a few dozen new buildings, so I won't be able to find anything anymore, but I'm looking forward to it. Despite the searing heat that will undoubtedly feature largely in the goings-on. If nothing else, it will be nice to wear heels again since I'll be driving rather than walking everywhere. Although, once my road rage sets in, I may take that back.
Got bored of the detox Diet of Death and am now on Day 2 of Atkins. No doubt I'll tire of this shortly too, but it might work while it lasts.
More embassy shenanigans scheduled for this week as I pick up my passport from the Russians and hand it over to the Finns. Wonder if dropping a word about my fondness for Lordi will win me any Brownie points with the Finnish embassy?
Have officially bought my ticket for trip to Dubai in a couple of weeks - am looking forward to seeing my old friends at N-Style again and Deema tells me Aerosmith will be playing during the week that I'm there. No doubt they'll have changed all the roads and put up a few dozen new buildings, so I won't be able to find anything anymore, but I'm looking forward to it. Despite the searing heat that will undoubtedly feature largely in the goings-on. If nothing else, it will be nice to wear heels again since I'll be driving rather than walking everywhere. Although, once my road rage sets in, I may take that back.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
From Russia with love
Well, it's been a full week.
Full of embassies, that is.
I've been to the Finnish embassy twice this week and am still no closer to getting a visa for Finland. This is more of a problem than it seems, given that Finland is an integral part of the Russian extravaganza and without the appropriate visa, I have little or no access to half that week's plans.
Anyway, the lady behind the counter at the embassy doubted my bonafides from the very start. She viewed me with unconcealed concern when I attempted to take my outer layer of clothing off (on account of it being a warm day, not some sudden desire to flash her). Admittedly I was wearing what counts as a 'hoodie' but if I look like the sort of person to have a bomb/weapon concealed about my person, then this is the first I'm hearing of it. She also clearly doubted the validity of my invitation letter from Tiina as she asked how I knew her and then obviously disbelieved my response that we used to work together. For an otherwise chilled out race of people, the Finns seem to have a severely bureacratic consular section at their London embassy. And they take two weeks to process applications, which doesn't really sit too well with my current travel time frame.
Contrast the Russian embassy this morning, where I waited in a queue for over an hour and then a grand total of 10 minutes submitting a mere two documents and paying for my visa. And, depending on how much money I was willing to pay, I could have the visa back on the same day or within a week. A glowing example of how embracing bare-faced capitalism isn't always a bad thing.
Met with my soon-to-be personal trainer last night and was gratified to learn that my upper body strength, flexibility and general fitness levels are better than I thought. Now if I just used them more often, I wouldn't be needing a trainer at all, but that's as may be.
Bank holiday approaches but finances dictate that Lakshmi will be spending the weekend sitting on her sofa, watching the final three seasons of Buffy. Oooh and Spidey.
Full of embassies, that is.
I've been to the Finnish embassy twice this week and am still no closer to getting a visa for Finland. This is more of a problem than it seems, given that Finland is an integral part of the Russian extravaganza and without the appropriate visa, I have little or no access to half that week's plans.
Anyway, the lady behind the counter at the embassy doubted my bonafides from the very start. She viewed me with unconcealed concern when I attempted to take my outer layer of clothing off (on account of it being a warm day, not some sudden desire to flash her). Admittedly I was wearing what counts as a 'hoodie' but if I look like the sort of person to have a bomb/weapon concealed about my person, then this is the first I'm hearing of it. She also clearly doubted the validity of my invitation letter from Tiina as she asked how I knew her and then obviously disbelieved my response that we used to work together. For an otherwise chilled out race of people, the Finns seem to have a severely bureacratic consular section at their London embassy. And they take two weeks to process applications, which doesn't really sit too well with my current travel time frame.
Contrast the Russian embassy this morning, where I waited in a queue for over an hour and then a grand total of 10 minutes submitting a mere two documents and paying for my visa. And, depending on how much money I was willing to pay, I could have the visa back on the same day or within a week. A glowing example of how embracing bare-faced capitalism isn't always a bad thing.
Met with my soon-to-be personal trainer last night and was gratified to learn that my upper body strength, flexibility and general fitness levels are better than I thought. Now if I just used them more often, I wouldn't be needing a trainer at all, but that's as may be.
Bank holiday approaches but finances dictate that Lakshmi will be spending the weekend sitting on her sofa, watching the final three seasons of Buffy. Oooh and Spidey.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Quote of the day...
Received my paycheque today and wondered out loud what the National Insurance is for and why I was paying for it.
A colleague told me that "it pays for the NHS. So, you know, when you're ill and you want a superbug, you can go to the hospital and die."
Rather well put, I thought.
A colleague told me that "it pays for the NHS. So, you know, when you're ill and you want a superbug, you can go to the hospital and die."
Rather well put, I thought.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Spidey senses tingling...
A generally busy week, but I'm in surprisingly good spirits. Had a weekend full of running errands, including a trip to IKEA for a shoe rack (assembled), new blinds (up) and a full length miror (still sitting on the floor in its packaging). It's funny how that would never have counted as a 'good weekend' when I lived in Dubai, but here in London it feels quite pat-on-the-back-worthy.
Am attempting to register with a clinic nearer to the new house and I am not sure why the process is quite so convoluted. I've had to go in once for the forms, once for the initial health check and soon again for the 'Women's Clinic' health check. Three visits already and I'm not even sick...
Was struck by a mild sense of melancholy earlier in the week when I realised it's been five years since I graduated from university. What have I been doing in that time? It's all passed in a blur and I can't seem to remember any of it. Any minute now I'm going to wake up and find that I'm 60. Oh well, no doubt I'll still be poor and single then too. Perhaps it's time I put a positive spin on the situation and was grateful for the only truly consistent elements of my life.
7 weeks to Russia. Clare and I are now on some sort of detox diet - or as I affectionately call it, the Diet of Death. It's not going too badly at the moment but it's only Day 4; any minute now someone is going to mention chocolate cake and I'm going to snap.
Have been put on a project for a client based in Qatar - it's only Day 2 and already some of the processes are starting to feel familiar. Can't wait until someone springs an 'inshallah' on me.
A visit from the Peters looms on the horizon - hurrah!
Hotel finally booked for the Scorza/Wade wedding extravaganza and just received an agenda for the St Petersburg jamboree. Think this might be another Year of the Maxed Out Credit Card...
Spiderman 3 premiere in Leicester Square a couple of nights ago - that shall be my mission for the Bank Holiday weekend. The greatest battle lies within.
Am attempting to register with a clinic nearer to the new house and I am not sure why the process is quite so convoluted. I've had to go in once for the forms, once for the initial health check and soon again for the 'Women's Clinic' health check. Three visits already and I'm not even sick...
Was struck by a mild sense of melancholy earlier in the week when I realised it's been five years since I graduated from university. What have I been doing in that time? It's all passed in a blur and I can't seem to remember any of it. Any minute now I'm going to wake up and find that I'm 60. Oh well, no doubt I'll still be poor and single then too. Perhaps it's time I put a positive spin on the situation and was grateful for the only truly consistent elements of my life.
7 weeks to Russia. Clare and I are now on some sort of detox diet - or as I affectionately call it, the Diet of Death. It's not going too badly at the moment but it's only Day 4; any minute now someone is going to mention chocolate cake and I'm going to snap.
Have been put on a project for a client based in Qatar - it's only Day 2 and already some of the processes are starting to feel familiar. Can't wait until someone springs an 'inshallah' on me.
A visit from the Peters looms on the horizon - hurrah!
Hotel finally booked for the Scorza/Wade wedding extravaganza and just received an agenda for the St Petersburg jamboree. Think this might be another Year of the Maxed Out Credit Card...
Spiderman 3 premiere in Leicester Square a couple of nights ago - that shall be my mission for the Bank Holiday weekend. The greatest battle lies within.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Birthdays, belly-dancing and babies
Hurrah for an interesting week so far.
Despite all the portents of doom surrounding me attempting any form of travel on Friday the 13th, I managed to get to Cardiff safe and sound and even on time.
Saturday morning saw Jamila, Rania and me off to a belly-dancing class where I think we overcompensated for not having jingling coin belts by thrusting our hips harder and waving our arms more enthusiastically than strictly necessary. By the time we left, we were feeling tired and broken, even though we were among the few people there under the age of 50. Still, it was a fun first attempt - might wait a while to see if I feel like a second. Or if these old bones can stand any more abuse.
The rest of Saturday passed in birthday shenanigans for Marc and suprisingly I made it home on Sunday afternoon in one piece. One rather sniffly piece though. I hate being the one to complain about a cold but they really are rather inconvenient aren't they? Your brains feel like mush, you can't breathe, your head hurts, your throat is sore, you cough like a 2-packs-a-day smoker and you feel weak as a kitten but all you can say is 'I've got a cold'. Hmph.
Still, I was clever and took the day off on Monday to rest, drink fluids and watch Season 1 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I've never watched the show on a regular basis but through no fault of its own really. So far am enjoying it, so I'll refrain from questioning elements of the plot. Besides, I'm only a quarter of the way into Season 2 at the moment, so perhaps all shall be revealed at a later stage.
Other news includes that I won the office sweepstakes for the Grand National (Silver Birch won at odds of 33-1) and scooped £39 in mixed coinage.
However, the biggest news of my week so far came last night when Chris and Christina called to announce the birth of Samantha Minga Neukam. I'm sure they told me important things about her like time of birth and size and such but I was busy squealing so I might have missed some of those details. Yay! I'm an auntie! (Really must get the present I've been working on sorted out - there is absolutely no excuse for this sort of tardiness.)
Exactly 8 weeks to Finland/Russia extravaganza. The diet starts today.
Despite all the portents of doom surrounding me attempting any form of travel on Friday the 13th, I managed to get to Cardiff safe and sound and even on time.
Saturday morning saw Jamila, Rania and me off to a belly-dancing class where I think we overcompensated for not having jingling coin belts by thrusting our hips harder and waving our arms more enthusiastically than strictly necessary. By the time we left, we were feeling tired and broken, even though we were among the few people there under the age of 50. Still, it was a fun first attempt - might wait a while to see if I feel like a second. Or if these old bones can stand any more abuse.
The rest of Saturday passed in birthday shenanigans for Marc and suprisingly I made it home on Sunday afternoon in one piece. One rather sniffly piece though. I hate being the one to complain about a cold but they really are rather inconvenient aren't they? Your brains feel like mush, you can't breathe, your head hurts, your throat is sore, you cough like a 2-packs-a-day smoker and you feel weak as a kitten but all you can say is 'I've got a cold'. Hmph.
Still, I was clever and took the day off on Monday to rest, drink fluids and watch Season 1 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I've never watched the show on a regular basis but through no fault of its own really. So far am enjoying it, so I'll refrain from questioning elements of the plot. Besides, I'm only a quarter of the way into Season 2 at the moment, so perhaps all shall be revealed at a later stage.
Other news includes that I won the office sweepstakes for the Grand National (Silver Birch won at odds of 33-1) and scooped £39 in mixed coinage.
However, the biggest news of my week so far came last night when Chris and Christina called to announce the birth of Samantha Minga Neukam. I'm sure they told me important things about her like time of birth and size and such but I was busy squealing so I might have missed some of those details. Yay! I'm an auntie! (Really must get the present I've been working on sorted out - there is absolutely no excuse for this sort of tardiness.)
Exactly 8 weeks to Finland/Russia extravaganza. The diet starts today.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
If it's Tuesday, this must be Blackfriars...
Boo to the end of the long weekend.
And boo to not having an Easter egg this year. Well, not too much boo, since really I have no-one but myself to blame for that. Besides, impending Russian holiday, where I will be forced to compete with gorgeous leggy blondes for the attention of my friends, just to ensure that I don't get left behind in some random nightclub while they disappear off with woman who will (if stories are to be believed) elbow me out of the way, means the fewer calories the better at the moment.
(Wow, that was a long and complicated thought...)
Anyway, hurrah for the shortened week and then upwards and onwards to Marc's birthday extravaganza over the weekend.
Over the weekend I went to sunny Brighton on the South (?) coast of England and a charming little city it was too. Well, the bits of it that I saw were nice. Narrow, winding streets with random little shops and kiosks, as well as a wonderfully garish pier with loads of dreadful looking rides, cotton candy stands and hideous stuffed animals to be won. Even though this is a new Brighton pier (the old one apparently burned down or something), it had a lovely old carnival ground feel to it - exactly how a pier should feel, if that makes any sense.
And hurrah for old bookshops where I picked up THREE early edition Wodehouse books, in green fabric hardcover and inscriptions inside from 1929 and 1931.
Mr Kenny is doing well and I am well pleased for having a friend living in an interesting city as it gives me reasons to go down there without feeling like an oddball. On the whole, with him living there and Clare having grown up there, Brighton seems to be worming its way into my consciousness with no small amount of sneakiness. What can it mean?
Plans for St Petersburg continue with hotel bookings chopped, changed and now finalised and train tickets to and from Helsinki to be purchased next week.
Went into O2 shop yesterday to proceed with phone number transferring process and was told it would take ANOTHER WEEK before it was finalised. Admittedly I don't actually know the intricacies of how these things work, but I'm convinced this process shouldn't take 14 days from start to finish. Someone somewhere is attempting to lead me up the garden path and I am wholly unimpressed.
Still no shoe solution for new room. Still no word from Christina on Baby Neukam. Still no idea what I feel passionately enough about to present on it at my Presentation Skills training on Thursday.
This is going to be a busy week.
And boo to not having an Easter egg this year. Well, not too much boo, since really I have no-one but myself to blame for that. Besides, impending Russian holiday, where I will be forced to compete with gorgeous leggy blondes for the attention of my friends, just to ensure that I don't get left behind in some random nightclub while they disappear off with woman who will (if stories are to be believed) elbow me out of the way, means the fewer calories the better at the moment.
(Wow, that was a long and complicated thought...)
Anyway, hurrah for the shortened week and then upwards and onwards to Marc's birthday extravaganza over the weekend.
Over the weekend I went to sunny Brighton on the South (?) coast of England and a charming little city it was too. Well, the bits of it that I saw were nice. Narrow, winding streets with random little shops and kiosks, as well as a wonderfully garish pier with loads of dreadful looking rides, cotton candy stands and hideous stuffed animals to be won. Even though this is a new Brighton pier (the old one apparently burned down or something), it had a lovely old carnival ground feel to it - exactly how a pier should feel, if that makes any sense.
And hurrah for old bookshops where I picked up THREE early edition Wodehouse books, in green fabric hardcover and inscriptions inside from 1929 and 1931.
Mr Kenny is doing well and I am well pleased for having a friend living in an interesting city as it gives me reasons to go down there without feeling like an oddball. On the whole, with him living there and Clare having grown up there, Brighton seems to be worming its way into my consciousness with no small amount of sneakiness. What can it mean?
Plans for St Petersburg continue with hotel bookings chopped, changed and now finalised and train tickets to and from Helsinki to be purchased next week.
Went into O2 shop yesterday to proceed with phone number transferring process and was told it would take ANOTHER WEEK before it was finalised. Admittedly I don't actually know the intricacies of how these things work, but I'm convinced this process shouldn't take 14 days from start to finish. Someone somewhere is attempting to lead me up the garden path and I am wholly unimpressed.
Still no shoe solution for new room. Still no word from Christina on Baby Neukam. Still no idea what I feel passionately enough about to present on it at my Presentation Skills training on Thursday.
This is going to be a busy week.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
The memory's the first to go...
Forgot one event of interest and one random conversation from the past week.
Event - met up with Gareth and went along to pub quiz at the Prince Regent in Herne Hill last week. I felt a little rusty having not been at any sort of quiz in easily a year. Have to say this was reflected in the very few things I actually knew (notably the chemical symbol for Ozone and the name of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' nemesis) but in spite of my poor contribution we still WON! And walked away with a handy £45 apiece in prize money.
Am worried that the precedent thus set might be a bit too ambitious for future attempts, but will worry about it if we ever go again.
Conversation - rang up Orange yesterday morning in order to get some sort of code which would allow me to switch network providers but still keep my phone number. I have been pretty much forced to do this because Orange provides no coverage for my phone in the new flat and in order to get reception I have to dangle out of the kitchen window. And while it provides a mildly amusing mental picture, that sort of thing's simply not convenient on what we might call a regular basis.
Needless to say the process of getting through to someone who could help me with this need was quite involved and required a lot of 'if you require this, press one', 'if you require that press two' etc. Once I finally got through and explained to them that I had no reception in my house and that I needed the PAC code, I got transferred to some guy who then launched off on a giant spiel about all the good deals I could get from Orange, the number of free minutes and text messages a month I could have and why Orange is the best mobile service provider on the face of God's green earth.
I let him stop for breath before reminding him that the reason I was choosing to stop using Orange was not price related but because all the free minutes in the world are no use at all when you HAVE NO COVERAGE.
To which he said, in a tone of utter contempt, 'you have no coverage AT ALL?'. I got the feeling it was only by a thin thread that he was avoiding telling me I should clearly just move house.
Event - met up with Gareth and went along to pub quiz at the Prince Regent in Herne Hill last week. I felt a little rusty having not been at any sort of quiz in easily a year. Have to say this was reflected in the very few things I actually knew (notably the chemical symbol for Ozone and the name of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' nemesis) but in spite of my poor contribution we still WON! And walked away with a handy £45 apiece in prize money.
Am worried that the precedent thus set might be a bit too ambitious for future attempts, but will worry about it if we ever go again.
Conversation - rang up Orange yesterday morning in order to get some sort of code which would allow me to switch network providers but still keep my phone number. I have been pretty much forced to do this because Orange provides no coverage for my phone in the new flat and in order to get reception I have to dangle out of the kitchen window. And while it provides a mildly amusing mental picture, that sort of thing's simply not convenient on what we might call a regular basis.
Needless to say the process of getting through to someone who could help me with this need was quite involved and required a lot of 'if you require this, press one', 'if you require that press two' etc. Once I finally got through and explained to them that I had no reception in my house and that I needed the PAC code, I got transferred to some guy who then launched off on a giant spiel about all the good deals I could get from Orange, the number of free minutes and text messages a month I could have and why Orange is the best mobile service provider on the face of God's green earth.
I let him stop for breath before reminding him that the reason I was choosing to stop using Orange was not price related but because all the free minutes in the world are no use at all when you HAVE NO COVERAGE.
To which he said, in a tone of utter contempt, 'you have no coverage AT ALL?'. I got the feeling it was only by a thin thread that he was avoiding telling me I should clearly just move house.
Fish, Facebook and new furnishings
It's been a busy eight days since I last posted.
Since we last met I have moved house and am now reasonably well settled into the new flat. Well, my shoes are still a bit homeless but I'm trying to figure out what my strategy for storage and retrieval is. An IKEA mission might be in order.
Apart from that, am getting used to a slightly new routine (and figuring out where things are), including looking after my new pet fish - Claude and Eustace. They're coldwater fish and that's all I really know about them except that they don't seem to be very smart. Lively, but seemingly not intelligent enough to open their mouths when they want to eat. Still, am feeling quite attached to them already and I'm beginning to understand why they say watching fish can be soothing.
In the last week or so I also got involved with the somewhat time-consuming but ultimately-pointless shenanigan that is FaceBook. After an initial flurry of searching for and adding friends to your list, there doesn't seem to be much else to do with it. Think I shall stick with blogging, less interactive though it may be.
Long weekend coming up, with both Friday and Monday off - am going to Brighton on Saturday to visit Mr Kenny and explore the rumours I've heard about the city being very cool. Apart from that, I plan to spend the extra time off sitting on my new sofa, in front of my new fire and staring meditatively into space.
Since we last met I have moved house and am now reasonably well settled into the new flat. Well, my shoes are still a bit homeless but I'm trying to figure out what my strategy for storage and retrieval is. An IKEA mission might be in order.
Apart from that, am getting used to a slightly new routine (and figuring out where things are), including looking after my new pet fish - Claude and Eustace. They're coldwater fish and that's all I really know about them except that they don't seem to be very smart. Lively, but seemingly not intelligent enough to open their mouths when they want to eat. Still, am feeling quite attached to them already and I'm beginning to understand why they say watching fish can be soothing.
In the last week or so I also got involved with the somewhat time-consuming but ultimately-pointless shenanigan that is FaceBook. After an initial flurry of searching for and adding friends to your list, there doesn't seem to be much else to do with it. Think I shall stick with blogging, less interactive though it may be.
Long weekend coming up, with both Friday and Monday off - am going to Brighton on Saturday to visit Mr Kenny and explore the rumours I've heard about the city being very cool. Apart from that, I plan to spend the extra time off sitting on my new sofa, in front of my new fire and staring meditatively into space.
Monday, March 26, 2007
What cabbage?
It's been a tumultuous week.
The relief of having finally found a place to live lasted exactly a day and a half, with the plan for 6 Cavendish Rd falling apart on Wednesday afternoon. On the plus side, the one full day of relief I had, was my birthday so it was one less portent of ill will to deal with at an already stressful time. On the flip side, it meant I was back to being homeless again and with even fewer days in which to sort things out.
Still, as they say, all things happen for a reason and being chucked out on my ear meant I went looking at 70 Bonneville Gardens, met Clare (soon to be landlady and flatmate) and now am back to having a potential home again - one I feel much more positive about and one that ultimately has more earmarks for success.
Friday saw me spend the day in Belfast, mucking about with surveys at the annual FSB conference. The city looked green and pretty between the airport and the conference centre and I've had an adult-dose of Irish accents which should keep me going until the next fix.
With new housing arrangements imminent, the weekend was spent packing things away and wondering just how much rubbish one person can accumulate in a mere 8 months.
Watched The Prestige. Twice. Yes, it is just that good. What's more, it's the type of layered film that makes you realise only at the end all the little things that you've overlooked along the way. Oh yes and the boys in it are hot. Even in magician beards.
Mad busy week ahead at work, painting of new room to be done and eventual moving in shenanigans scheduled for Saturday. By the end of it all, someone is going to be a very tired panda...
The relief of having finally found a place to live lasted exactly a day and a half, with the plan for 6 Cavendish Rd falling apart on Wednesday afternoon. On the plus side, the one full day of relief I had, was my birthday so it was one less portent of ill will to deal with at an already stressful time. On the flip side, it meant I was back to being homeless again and with even fewer days in which to sort things out.
Still, as they say, all things happen for a reason and being chucked out on my ear meant I went looking at 70 Bonneville Gardens, met Clare (soon to be landlady and flatmate) and now am back to having a potential home again - one I feel much more positive about and one that ultimately has more earmarks for success.
Friday saw me spend the day in Belfast, mucking about with surveys at the annual FSB conference. The city looked green and pretty between the airport and the conference centre and I've had an adult-dose of Irish accents which should keep me going until the next fix.
With new housing arrangements imminent, the weekend was spent packing things away and wondering just how much rubbish one person can accumulate in a mere 8 months.
Watched The Prestige. Twice. Yes, it is just that good. What's more, it's the type of layered film that makes you realise only at the end all the little things that you've overlooked along the way. Oh yes and the boys in it are hot. Even in magician beards.
Mad busy week ahead at work, painting of new room to be done and eventual moving in shenanigans scheduled for Saturday. By the end of it all, someone is going to be a very tired panda...
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Bring it on, 27, I dare ya...
So I suppose it had to happen sometime.
The dreaded day has come. This is the oldest I've ever been. Still, am in pretty high spirits following a good weekend and a series of phonecalls, text messages and emails that remind me how lucky I am in the family and friends departments.
Weekend shenanigans in Cardiff resulted in positive actions all around - Wales beat England; I had chocolate cake and pancakes (not together, although that sounds quite promising too); I'm now almost the proud owner of a pair of fish and, most importantly, having something else to think about for a couple of days resulted in good karma on the house front.
After visiting a grand total of 25 flats of various sizes, shapes and occupants over the last few weeks, I have now settled on No 6C Cavendish Road. The girl moving out is off to a new job in Dubai and the new flat is so close to the current one that I won't have to change any of my travel or grocery shopping habits. Perhaps rather a lot of time, effort and stress to move a mere three streets over but into each life some rain must fall, I suppose.
Off home to enjoy my first night in weeks of doing nothing and contemplating the infinite.
The dreaded day has come. This is the oldest I've ever been. Still, am in pretty high spirits following a good weekend and a series of phonecalls, text messages and emails that remind me how lucky I am in the family and friends departments.
Weekend shenanigans in Cardiff resulted in positive actions all around - Wales beat England; I had chocolate cake and pancakes (not together, although that sounds quite promising too); I'm now almost the proud owner of a pair of fish and, most importantly, having something else to think about for a couple of days resulted in good karma on the house front.
After visiting a grand total of 25 flats of various sizes, shapes and occupants over the last few weeks, I have now settled on No 6C Cavendish Road. The girl moving out is off to a new job in Dubai and the new flat is so close to the current one that I won't have to change any of my travel or grocery shopping habits. Perhaps rather a lot of time, effort and stress to move a mere three streets over but into each life some rain must fall, I suppose.
Off home to enjoy my first night in weeks of doing nothing and contemplating the infinite.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays...
This past weekend had the potential to be quite restful and relaxing. Instead I felt rushed off my feet and more stressed than ever with house-hunting plunging to unprecedented depths.
Still, stayed up and watched bad music videos from various decades and genres on Friday night, so all was not lost. What was it with the 80's and allowing dorky white boys to dance in their music videos - I'm looking at you, Rick Astley and I'm especially looking at you, Jimmy Somerville.
Off to Cardiff this coming weekend - have promised Kristen a proper Welsh experience so we will be watching rugby and looking at a castle. Oh and eating pancakes with maple syrup.
A box set of Seasons 1 & 2 of Entourage is now available at HMV and Ian tells me Season 3 of House is set to start on TV next week - proof that the world isn't such a bad place after all.
Still, stayed up and watched bad music videos from various decades and genres on Friday night, so all was not lost. What was it with the 80's and allowing dorky white boys to dance in their music videos - I'm looking at you, Rick Astley and I'm especially looking at you, Jimmy Somerville.
Off to Cardiff this coming weekend - have promised Kristen a proper Welsh experience so we will be watching rugby and looking at a castle. Oh and eating pancakes with maple syrup.
A box set of Seasons 1 & 2 of Entourage is now available at HMV and Ian tells me Season 3 of House is set to start on TV next week - proof that the world isn't such a bad place after all.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Slice of OX?
Phew. Finally another week over.
The past few days have seen me trekking in and out of several strangers' homes, asking dull questions about rent and deposits and making forced small-talk about hobbies and schedules.
Considering how big a city London is, this week it has felt tiny. At a house-viewing last night, the next potential tenant arrived early and I was amazed to recognise him as someone whose flat I had viewed back in July when I was last looking. (Good thing I didn't go with it - at the time I decided against him because I couldn't feel comfortable looking at his weird goggly eyes. Now I see that my prophetic soul had merely been warning me that he wouldn't have lasted as a potential landlord either.) Then this morning at the office I ran into an ex Dubai colleague (admittedly one to whom I've probably spoken a grand total of fourteen words since we first met back in 2002 - most of them today) who is working freelance on a project for GCI.
Went to my first meeting at the Dell offices in Bracknell yesterday. Was suprised to see that they are right next door to HP. Still, as they say, not much to do in the country but think what a tick your neighbour is. I imagine that's the case even without millions of dollars worth of computer equipment to fight over.
Tickets to Finland bought and hotel room at the Astoria booked this week as the St Petersburg slowly starts to take shape. Am trying to see if I can work in a detour to the North of Finland to go to the Lordi rocktaurant. So far KY and Tiina aren't going for it, but it's early days yet.
Will be 27 in 11 days. Am so not ready.
The past few days have seen me trekking in and out of several strangers' homes, asking dull questions about rent and deposits and making forced small-talk about hobbies and schedules.
Considering how big a city London is, this week it has felt tiny. At a house-viewing last night, the next potential tenant arrived early and I was amazed to recognise him as someone whose flat I had viewed back in July when I was last looking. (Good thing I didn't go with it - at the time I decided against him because I couldn't feel comfortable looking at his weird goggly eyes. Now I see that my prophetic soul had merely been warning me that he wouldn't have lasted as a potential landlord either.) Then this morning at the office I ran into an ex Dubai colleague (admittedly one to whom I've probably spoken a grand total of fourteen words since we first met back in 2002 - most of them today) who is working freelance on a project for GCI.
Went to my first meeting at the Dell offices in Bracknell yesterday. Was suprised to see that they are right next door to HP. Still, as they say, not much to do in the country but think what a tick your neighbour is. I imagine that's the case even without millions of dollars worth of computer equipment to fight over.
Tickets to Finland bought and hotel room at the Astoria booked this week as the St Petersburg slowly starts to take shape. Am trying to see if I can work in a detour to the North of Finland to go to the Lordi rocktaurant. So far KY and Tiina aren't going for it, but it's early days yet.
Will be 27 in 11 days. Am so not ready.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
How do ya like them Apples?
Early morning drama today. Woke up cold and was told that the radiator in Dianne's room was leaking beyond any hope of repair and would need replacing. Hung about waiting for the plumber for a while and then left when I found that Tara (landlady) had given him keys after all! Still, will be nice to have the house feel warm again after no heating or hot water since Sunday night.
Got pretty replacement headphones for my iPod - my usual anal retentive sensibilities made me think I couldn't have anything but Apple ones but a recent amount of anti-Apple feeling led me to not want to give them any more of my money than necessary. So I settled on Sony ones as some sort of compromise. But really, I think the fact that they had pretty turquoise bits on them was probably the actual deciding factor.
Good progress being made on planning for St Petersburg and Italy later on in the year. No progress made on planning for visa shenanigans, impending homelessness or upcoming birthday.
Got pretty replacement headphones for my iPod - my usual anal retentive sensibilities made me think I couldn't have anything but Apple ones but a recent amount of anti-Apple feeling led me to not want to give them any more of my money than necessary. So I settled on Sony ones as some sort of compromise. But really, I think the fact that they had pretty turquoise bits on them was probably the actual deciding factor.
Good progress being made on planning for St Petersburg and Italy later on in the year. No progress made on planning for visa shenanigans, impending homelessness or upcoming birthday.
Monday, March 05, 2007
You callin' me a liar?
Phew! Rather a full weekend, although I'm not sure what of.
Friday afternoon at the Computer Weekly awards at the London Marriott. Dell didn't win whatever it was they were up for, but I suppose it would have been worse hanging out at the office, working. Wandered down Oxford St to get to the tube station home and was accosted by a guy trying to get people to contribute to some charity. I tried telling him that I already contribute to several charities of my choosing, so I would look into his before committing to anything. He didn't seem to believe me, which I have to say left me feeling quite put out, even though I'm sure is probably the sort of lame excuse he must get from a lot of people. Still, I feel guilty enough about feeling like I don't do enough to better the world, without having random men on the street doubting my bonafides. Hmph.
Spent Friday night on the sofa watching Walk The Line with Dianne and Boris - I'd seen it before but a little more Johnny Cash never hurt anyone. Or at least if it did, I'm not aware of any documented examples.
Saturday and Sunday were spent dashing in and out of the house for various errands, a bit of house-hunting and farewell drinks for young Catherine who heads back to Dubai this week. Mojitos rule.
Birthday in 15 days and I don't think I've ever felt less excited. Oh well, no doubt I'll get up some enthusiasm when the cards and presents come flooding in...
Friday afternoon at the Computer Weekly awards at the London Marriott. Dell didn't win whatever it was they were up for, but I suppose it would have been worse hanging out at the office, working. Wandered down Oxford St to get to the tube station home and was accosted by a guy trying to get people to contribute to some charity. I tried telling him that I already contribute to several charities of my choosing, so I would look into his before committing to anything. He didn't seem to believe me, which I have to say left me feeling quite put out, even though I'm sure is probably the sort of lame excuse he must get from a lot of people. Still, I feel guilty enough about feeling like I don't do enough to better the world, without having random men on the street doubting my bonafides. Hmph.
Spent Friday night on the sofa watching Walk The Line with Dianne and Boris - I'd seen it before but a little more Johnny Cash never hurt anyone. Or at least if it did, I'm not aware of any documented examples.
Saturday and Sunday were spent dashing in and out of the house for various errands, a bit of house-hunting and farewell drinks for young Catherine who heads back to Dubai this week. Mojitos rule.
Birthday in 15 days and I don't think I've ever felt less excited. Oh well, no doubt I'll get up some enthusiasm when the cards and presents come flooding in...
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Hurrah! Titles!
It has been a busy week so far, with not much hope of it easing up any time soon. *Sigh*
Have seen two more flats so far but nothing that has taken my breath away sufficiently to warrant mentioning in any depth.
Kate's last day tomorrow and I am pretty distraught, but am attempting to hide it under a veil of scornful disregard. One of these days, something is going to snap - I can just tell.
Machinations with getting my UK work permit should begin soon and it looks like the time-frame for getting it all sorted out might be April/May, meaning I might have to put off the US trip I was planning to do at that time. On the plus side, Campbell has come through with an interesting proposition for spending his 30th birthday in St Petersburg that should serve as a cheerful substitute. I shall ignore the following statements from the WikiTravel site on the city:
Have seen two more flats so far but nothing that has taken my breath away sufficiently to warrant mentioning in any depth.
Kate's last day tomorrow and I am pretty distraught, but am attempting to hide it under a veil of scornful disregard. One of these days, something is going to snap - I can just tell.
Machinations with getting my UK work permit should begin soon and it looks like the time-frame for getting it all sorted out might be April/May, meaning I might have to put off the US trip I was planning to do at that time. On the plus side, Campbell has come through with an interesting proposition for spending his 30th birthday in St Petersburg that should serve as a cheerful substitute. I shall ignore the following statements from the WikiTravel site on the city:
- St Petersburg is known for violent conflicts and is notorious for violence and break-ins
- After the war with Chechnya, local hatred is growing toward people with darker complexions and neo-Nazism is a concern
- Russian drivers do not respect pedestrians too much... Do not even think about running over the road when there is a red light because some drivers will just drive faster and not stop, even if they hit you
- Steer clear of stray dogs, as some are aggressive
And my personal favourite:
- In some places in St Petersburg, you should not brush your teeth with the tap water, nor open your mouth during showers
Monday, February 26, 2007
It's been a full weekend and I'm still tired.
Friday night saw a very sparkly gold Dianne celebrating her birthday in style. I went along with Random Mark in tow - and felt like a right old lady beside all the energy and enthusiasm a 22 year old nipper has - and had rather a good night out, although I did manage to lose my jacket along the way. Still, the jacket was nigh on 10 years old and wasn't even warm anymore. I think I miss it more for sentimental reasons than warmth-related ones. Actually, by the end of the night when I had taken my shoes off and was wandering around barefoot, I might also have been a little cold.
Saturday morning saw me wandering along Northcote Road in a bit of a daze, looking for a suitable present for Baby Yousuf. Having bought him t-shirts with dinosaurs on them (because all little boys should wear dinosaur clothing. It's the rule.), I wandered into Buona Sera planning to grab some lunch and spend some quality time readin JPod. The looks of pity on the faces of the hostess, wait-staff and people at the next table, presumably because I was on my own and thus clearly a social leper,were nearly unbearable. I made up for it by eating a meal of epic proportions and then promptly feeling incredibly sick. Hobbled home and spent the rest of the afternoon in a restful anaconda-like state of digestive hibernation.
Watched An Inconvenient Truth that evening and very good it was too. Although, that said, I think it's (rightly) aimed more at American audiences than international ones. Awareness and activism around climate change is very strong in Europe, so the film didn't necessarily educate me on issues, but rather on the extent of them. As I said, very good indeed, in spite of some cheesy Al Gore montage moments.
Sunday passed in a blur of kiddie birthday party and catching up with Geoff King for drinks and dinner. Without any specific purpose in mind, I led the poor unsuspecting gentleman to the heart of Soho where as a heterosexual pair we were in the minority. Still, it's all character-building.
Spent three hours in a Digital Influencer training session today which I found quite interesting - perhaps proof of my supreme dorkiness. Or maybe truly the communication tool of the immediate future.
32 days.
Friday night saw a very sparkly gold Dianne celebrating her birthday in style. I went along with Random Mark in tow - and felt like a right old lady beside all the energy and enthusiasm a 22 year old nipper has - and had rather a good night out, although I did manage to lose my jacket along the way. Still, the jacket was nigh on 10 years old and wasn't even warm anymore. I think I miss it more for sentimental reasons than warmth-related ones. Actually, by the end of the night when I had taken my shoes off and was wandering around barefoot, I might also have been a little cold.
Saturday morning saw me wandering along Northcote Road in a bit of a daze, looking for a suitable present for Baby Yousuf. Having bought him t-shirts with dinosaurs on them (because all little boys should wear dinosaur clothing. It's the rule.), I wandered into Buona Sera planning to grab some lunch and spend some quality time readin JPod. The looks of pity on the faces of the hostess, wait-staff and people at the next table, presumably because I was on my own and thus clearly a social leper,were nearly unbearable. I made up for it by eating a meal of epic proportions and then promptly feeling incredibly sick. Hobbled home and spent the rest of the afternoon in a restful anaconda-like state of digestive hibernation.
Watched An Inconvenient Truth that evening and very good it was too. Although, that said, I think it's (rightly) aimed more at American audiences than international ones. Awareness and activism around climate change is very strong in Europe, so the film didn't necessarily educate me on issues, but rather on the extent of them. As I said, very good indeed, in spite of some cheesy Al Gore montage moments.
Sunday passed in a blur of kiddie birthday party and catching up with Geoff King for drinks and dinner. Without any specific purpose in mind, I led the poor unsuspecting gentleman to the heart of Soho where as a heterosexual pair we were in the minority. Still, it's all character-building.
Spent three hours in a Digital Influencer training session today which I found quite interesting - perhaps proof of my supreme dorkiness. Or maybe truly the communication tool of the immediate future.
32 days.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Tuesday was Pancake Day here in the UK. Something about a tradition of making pancakes to use up things like eggs, flour and sugar which were the sort of thing that good Christians gave up for Lent. I'm not sure I know anyone anymore who gives up anything for Lent but everyone loves a good pancake, right?
I was astounded to learn that British pancakes are not the same as American ones (and honestly people, I think we're dragging this difference thing just a little too far. I mean, mustard is one thing, but pancakes? Really?). Turns out British pancakes are kind of thin and bubbly, more like crepes (and don't let's even get started on trying to compare British food with French), and served with lemon and sugar while American pancakes are more soft and squishy and served with butter and maple syrup. I nearly had the chance to try the British kind as we were meant to be having them here at the office that afternoon, but some nonsense about the hot-plate not working deterred me. Oddly enough, Dianne had Scotch pancakes at home that night which were really just like miniature versions of American ones, which she had with butter and jam. So perhaps what I was calling British pancakes are actually just English pancakes? But then, that's apparently how they have them in Wales as well. I am thoroughly confused. Besides, I've always preferred waffles anyway.
Have now given my landlady notice, so the countdown to being homeless is officially on. 37 days.
I was astounded to learn that British pancakes are not the same as American ones (and honestly people, I think we're dragging this difference thing just a little too far. I mean, mustard is one thing, but pancakes? Really?). Turns out British pancakes are kind of thin and bubbly, more like crepes (and don't let's even get started on trying to compare British food with French), and served with lemon and sugar while American pancakes are more soft and squishy and served with butter and maple syrup. I nearly had the chance to try the British kind as we were meant to be having them here at the office that afternoon, but some nonsense about the hot-plate not working deterred me. Oddly enough, Dianne had Scotch pancakes at home that night which were really just like miniature versions of American ones, which she had with butter and jam. So perhaps what I was calling British pancakes are actually just English pancakes? But then, that's apparently how they have them in Wales as well. I am thoroughly confused. Besides, I've always preferred waffles anyway.
Have now given my landlady notice, so the countdown to being homeless is officially on. 37 days.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Apologies again to anyone who was sitting there, holding their breath and waiting for an update on my weekend activities.
After my post on Friday I had a stroke of inspiration that made me order a DVD for Dianne that I think she'd like. Go figure that we watched TV together that night and she mentioned at least two things that then sounded like better presents. Hmph.
A sudden spate of keen-ness (aided by a gurgling heater that woke me up at an ungodly hour) saw me in the gym on Saturday morning - a rash decision for which my nether portions have yet to forgive me. Did a bit of flat-visiting in the afternoon and saw quite a nice place on Northcote Road that I could quite easily see myself living in. I have since been informed that, in actual fact, I will not be living there. Hey ho.
Watched Hot Fuzz, which made me giggle but not laugh out loud. Good film though, understated humour and a good amount of referencing back to things I found funny in Shaun of the Dead as well. I shall watch Simon Pegg's future endeavours with considerable interest.
Went to see another flat on Sunday afternoon and, have to say, had my faith in humanity shaken a little. It turned out to be a house with SIX people living in it (bad start), with stains on the carpet (ick), broken sofas (really disturbed by this point), a bathtub that was missing tiles and had exposed pipes along the bottom (horrified) and a kitchen that looked like nobody had ever wiped it down after a fry-up (nearly the last straw). The people that lived in there were all roughly my age, possibly even a little older in one case, so I couldn't even write it off as student behaviour. Then they had the colossal nerve to tell me that lots of interested parties had viewed it, so they couldn't be sure if I would get the room. It took all my willpower not to tell them that not only did I not want the room but that no amount of showers would ever make me feel clean again after this vile experience. When I heard that one of the bills for the month was apparently for a cleaner, I knew the last straw had come and gone; the camel's back was in pieces. I fled.
Sunday night saw another bit of drama, as Dianne attempted a bit of DIY, trying to bleed our radiators. The gurgling noises were simply unbearable and the house was getting progressively colder all week. It seemed to work at first but then the whole thing went kaput and we had no heating or hot water. After a minor amount of drama from Ms Ramsay, we called the landlady who in turn called 'the little man' who came along and sorted it out in just under 15 minutes. The upshot of all this being that now that winter is coming to an end and we're both scheduled to move out soon, we have a wonderfully warm and toasty house =P
Yesterday disappeared in a haze of busy-ness and this week looks like another packed few days. What it is to be so popular!
After my post on Friday I had a stroke of inspiration that made me order a DVD for Dianne that I think she'd like. Go figure that we watched TV together that night and she mentioned at least two things that then sounded like better presents. Hmph.
A sudden spate of keen-ness (aided by a gurgling heater that woke me up at an ungodly hour) saw me in the gym on Saturday morning - a rash decision for which my nether portions have yet to forgive me. Did a bit of flat-visiting in the afternoon and saw quite a nice place on Northcote Road that I could quite easily see myself living in. I have since been informed that, in actual fact, I will not be living there. Hey ho.
Watched Hot Fuzz, which made me giggle but not laugh out loud. Good film though, understated humour and a good amount of referencing back to things I found funny in Shaun of the Dead as well. I shall watch Simon Pegg's future endeavours with considerable interest.
Went to see another flat on Sunday afternoon and, have to say, had my faith in humanity shaken a little. It turned out to be a house with SIX people living in it (bad start), with stains on the carpet (ick), broken sofas (really disturbed by this point), a bathtub that was missing tiles and had exposed pipes along the bottom (horrified) and a kitchen that looked like nobody had ever wiped it down after a fry-up (nearly the last straw). The people that lived in there were all roughly my age, possibly even a little older in one case, so I couldn't even write it off as student behaviour. Then they had the colossal nerve to tell me that lots of interested parties had viewed it, so they couldn't be sure if I would get the room. It took all my willpower not to tell them that not only did I not want the room but that no amount of showers would ever make me feel clean again after this vile experience. When I heard that one of the bills for the month was apparently for a cleaner, I knew the last straw had come and gone; the camel's back was in pieces. I fled.
Sunday night saw another bit of drama, as Dianne attempted a bit of DIY, trying to bleed our radiators. The gurgling noises were simply unbearable and the house was getting progressively colder all week. It seemed to work at first but then the whole thing went kaput and we had no heating or hot water. After a minor amount of drama from Ms Ramsay, we called the landlady who in turn called 'the little man' who came along and sorted it out in just under 15 minutes. The upshot of all this being that now that winter is coming to an end and we're both scheduled to move out soon, we have a wonderfully warm and toasty house =P
Yesterday disappeared in a haze of busy-ness and this week looks like another packed few days. What it is to be so popular!
Friday, February 16, 2007
More of a challenge than usual, getting out of bed this morning, in spite of it being lighter at 7.00am than it has in months and my heater gurgling like a leaky tap right by my ear. Still it's Friday, so that's some small consolation.
Met up with Pete Kenny last night which, apart from one particularly revolting anecdote involving a centipede, was an excellent evening's worth of story-swapping and Chinese food.
Looking forward to a weekend spent sitting on my sofa, staring into space. Might have to intersperse a bit of birthday present buying for Dianne's 31st next week. Astoundingly, I have realised that in spite of having lived in close quarters for six months and spening several evenings having a chat with her, I really don't know what she likes or would want.
Hrm.
Met up with Pete Kenny last night which, apart from one particularly revolting anecdote involving a centipede, was an excellent evening's worth of story-swapping and Chinese food.
Looking forward to a weekend spent sitting on my sofa, staring into space. Might have to intersperse a bit of birthday present buying for Dianne's 31st next week. Astoundingly, I have realised that in spite of having lived in close quarters for six months and spening several evenings having a chat with her, I really don't know what she likes or would want.
Hrm.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
So the longest night of the year has finally passed and I can put off being single and bitter about a Hallmark holiday for another year. Special thanks to Geoff and Toosy, whose cards, gifts and flowers are actually the only Valentine's Day presents I've ever received, making this an extraordinary year.
Spent last night eating pizza and watching Snakes on a Plane with Dianne. Personal highlights:
Spent last night eating pizza and watching Snakes on a Plane with Dianne. Personal highlights:
- "Great. Snakes on crack."
- Scenes being shot in evil green snake vision
- The bad guy who has arranged to fill the plane with snakes saying there was no other way to stop the witness testifying against him
- End credits song by Cobra Starship featuring lines such as 'I can see the venom in your eyes'
Another long week this week - still no flat and more upsets at work. If I were so inclined, I'd be wasting away from the stress - sadly I think it's having the opposite effect and I'm expanding rapidly enough to soon have my own gravitational force.
Still, meeting up with the unsuspecting Mr Kenny tonight, which promises to be amusing and uplifting.
Will end on this note:
Monday, February 12, 2007
The flat-hunt is back on, although not yet in full swing as most of the people with rooms to rent are looking for someone to move in pretty much right away and I'm not set to go anywhere until the end of March. It's all a bit stressful and boring so let's focus on my personal favourites from Avenue Q instead:
- More drinks! More fun! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
- Everyone's a little bit racist...
- What do you do with a degree in English?
- The internet is for PORN!
There wasn't much left of the weekend after all the meals we managed to fit into the space of 24 hours, but I can't think of many better ways to fill the time than with friends and food.
Valentine's Day tomorrow - have a rather full schedule of Dell annual review meeting and poking my eyes out with knitting needles.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Hurrah for free speech!
Thanks to the pro-Scientology person who left me a reasonably valid comment on my last post. I gracefully concede that I'm sure much of the stuff the media make up about Scientology is untrue - as are most things you read in the tabloids. However, the secrecy that surrounds the faith and the lack of forthcoming information don't exactly help sell it to me as a viable explanation for the nature of the universe.
In any case, as someone who belongs to a polytheistic religion which itself requires several leaps of faith, I don't think I'm ready to try and embrace anything else at this time, no matter how good the biscuits.
Still, good to know that someone's reading this blog, even if it isn't necessarily the people I know. I will have a fan following yet... watch out Mil Millington!
Thanks to the pro-Scientology person who left me a reasonably valid comment on my last post. I gracefully concede that I'm sure much of the stuff the media make up about Scientology is untrue - as are most things you read in the tabloids. However, the secrecy that surrounds the faith and the lack of forthcoming information don't exactly help sell it to me as a viable explanation for the nature of the universe.
In any case, as someone who belongs to a polytheistic religion which itself requires several leaps of faith, I don't think I'm ready to try and embrace anything else at this time, no matter how good the biscuits.
Still, good to know that someone's reading this blog, even if it isn't necessarily the people I know. I will have a fan following yet... watch out Mil Millington!
The Church of Scientology is around the corner from my office and on the rare occasions when I go to the gym on Queen Victoria Street (or indeed, go to the gym at all) I walk past it. I'm always amazed that there are people in there. I mean, haven't we all read and heard enough about these particular brand of crazy to know well enough to stay away? Who are these randoms who, when perfectly good alternatives such as atheism exist, are showing interest in a 'religion' that hails Tom Cruise as its messiah?
Perhaps it's the fact that they offer free refreshments to all that come in and listen. I'm not sure there are biscuits anywhere in the world that are good enough to justify Scientology...
Admittedly, it's not masses of people in there every time, only about 3 or 4 but that's still more than the acceptable headcount. And frankly this Church really should have the decency to be located in a leaky cellar in Brixton or similar. Instead they have a large, well-lit, airy space with widescreen TVs and comfortable looking sofas, on a respectable street in the City.
Surely this is all wrong?
Perhaps it's the fact that they offer free refreshments to all that come in and listen. I'm not sure there are biscuits anywhere in the world that are good enough to justify Scientology...
Admittedly, it's not masses of people in there every time, only about 3 or 4 but that's still more than the acceptable headcount. And frankly this Church really should have the decency to be located in a leaky cellar in Brixton or similar. Instead they have a large, well-lit, airy space with widescreen TVs and comfortable looking sofas, on a respectable street in the City.
Surely this is all wrong?
Thursday, February 08, 2007
A stint of staying late at work last night meant I ended up skipping Ceroc but a cosy session of sitting on my sofa, eating homemade yellow curry and noodles and watching Ugly Betty soon cured me of any disappointment.
Overnight London received the most snow fall it has had in 10 years. Apparently. It looks to me like an average winter day in Indiana but that hasn't stopped it wreaking havoc on the public transport's ability to navigate the seemingly simple task of getting people from one place to another. Still, the back garden was picture postcard perfect, which for some reason makes it all okay.
(Why do I always call it the back garden? We don't have a front garden.)
Today has been an odd sort of day - managed to get a couple of things done and felt less stressed than I have all week, but now I feel guilty for not feeling rushed off my feet. Perhaps the number of inane phonecalls I have had to field is the balancing factor.
Right, off to the gym and then to the house that probably won't be mine for much longer.
*sigh*
Overnight London received the most snow fall it has had in 10 years. Apparently. It looks to me like an average winter day in Indiana but that hasn't stopped it wreaking havoc on the public transport's ability to navigate the seemingly simple task of getting people from one place to another. Still, the back garden was picture postcard perfect, which for some reason makes it all okay.
(Why do I always call it the back garden? We don't have a front garden.)
Today has been an odd sort of day - managed to get a couple of things done and felt less stressed than I have all week, but now I feel guilty for not feeling rushed off my feet. Perhaps the number of inane phonecalls I have had to field is the balancing factor.
Right, off to the gym and then to the house that probably won't be mine for much longer.
*sigh*
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Now that the guilt of leaving my public post-less for a whole week has overtaken me (and I've had one mildly threatening reminder), it's time to catch up on the news from the last seven days.
After a six month hiatus (and nostalgia prompted by a phone call from JP), I went to a Ceroc class last week and was somewhat relieved to find that I was not as rusty as I expected. The intermediate routine was pleasantly familiar with a syncopated first move, some walkabouts and a double dip.( And no, I don't know the English translation for any of those. Suffice it to say they are quite cool looking.) The instructor wasn't as good as I was hoping for and the geriatric in a cardigan that smelled like old man did put a damper on some of my enthusiasm but not enough to make me want to stop going. Class again tonight, will see how it goes.
A mild bit of standing up by Will Rankin (ex-journalist buddy from the brave old Dubai days who I randomly ran into in Carnaby Street over the Christmas break) on Friday started off the weekend and a gossipy girlie night out with KY and Catherine filled in the gap. A nice bit of doing nothing rounded out Sunday in preparation for what appears to be the coldest week I've experienced in the UK so far.
Speaking of the weather, it's been estimated that it'll snow 10 inches (or some such apparently sensational amount) tonight and people are airily talking about posssibly not being able to come into work tomorrow. In theory, I'm tossing my hat in the air at the prospect of having a shortened week, but then I catch sight of my lengthening to-do list and realise that I am actually already snowed under. (Bad pun fully intended)
This week has been characterised by some of the random meetings I have had scheduled into the social calendar. The Peters, in her infinite wisdom, has hooked me up with a friend of hers who I have unfortunately had to reschedule to next week. I say unfortunately because he appears to be good value and I am loath to have to put off meeting up with him until next week. Still, such is the sadness of life and all that.
In even stranger fashion, last night I had a brief catch-up with a guy who got into conversation with my brother in a bar in Dubai last week and ended up hanging out with him all evening, frequenting such charming and stylish establishments as Scarletts and Cyclone. How I came to be meeting up with him in Covent Garden is a long and only slightly interesting story, so I'll skip it for now.
Jamila, Marc and Austin all visiting from Cardiff this weekend so the homestead promises to be cosy if nothing else. Avenue Q tickets sorted for Saturday night - hurrah for a bit of culture, even if it is the foul-mouthed furry puppet type.
After a six month hiatus (and nostalgia prompted by a phone call from JP), I went to a Ceroc class last week and was somewhat relieved to find that I was not as rusty as I expected. The intermediate routine was pleasantly familiar with a syncopated first move, some walkabouts and a double dip.( And no, I don't know the English translation for any of those. Suffice it to say they are quite cool looking.) The instructor wasn't as good as I was hoping for and the geriatric in a cardigan that smelled like old man did put a damper on some of my enthusiasm but not enough to make me want to stop going. Class again tonight, will see how it goes.
A mild bit of standing up by Will Rankin (ex-journalist buddy from the brave old Dubai days who I randomly ran into in Carnaby Street over the Christmas break) on Friday started off the weekend and a gossipy girlie night out with KY and Catherine filled in the gap. A nice bit of doing nothing rounded out Sunday in preparation for what appears to be the coldest week I've experienced in the UK so far.
Speaking of the weather, it's been estimated that it'll snow 10 inches (or some such apparently sensational amount) tonight and people are airily talking about posssibly not being able to come into work tomorrow. In theory, I'm tossing my hat in the air at the prospect of having a shortened week, but then I catch sight of my lengthening to-do list and realise that I am actually already snowed under. (Bad pun fully intended)
This week has been characterised by some of the random meetings I have had scheduled into the social calendar. The Peters, in her infinite wisdom, has hooked me up with a friend of hers who I have unfortunately had to reschedule to next week. I say unfortunately because he appears to be good value and I am loath to have to put off meeting up with him until next week. Still, such is the sadness of life and all that.
In even stranger fashion, last night I had a brief catch-up with a guy who got into conversation with my brother in a bar in Dubai last week and ended up hanging out with him all evening, frequenting such charming and stylish establishments as Scarletts and Cyclone. How I came to be meeting up with him in Covent Garden is a long and only slightly interesting story, so I'll skip it for now.
Jamila, Marc and Austin all visiting from Cardiff this weekend so the homestead promises to be cosy if nothing else. Avenue Q tickets sorted for Saturday night - hurrah for a bit of culture, even if it is the foul-mouthed furry puppet type.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Sorry to anyone who follows this blog on a regular basis (you know if you exist) - I have been somewhat preoccupied with the changes at work and impending homelessness so have not been as good as I should at regular updates.
Not that there's been that much to say. Was meant to go to a 30th birthday and a housewarming at the same time on the same night this past weekend. I tried in vain to do both but it turns out Heather lives on a street that does not appear in my A-Z. Then my phone battery died, meaning I couldn't call her for directions. So I stayed at Guanabara and viruously sipped Mojitos for the rest of the evening, then took the tube home at a reasonable hour.
Hurrah for spirits and cocktails and not waking up feeling like something the cat dragged in. (I love that phrase but am curious to know what exactly cats drag in. And why cats? Are they renowned for dragging things in? In where?). A further hurrah for July when smoking gets banned in pubs in England.
Made a conscious effort to get into work early this morning so I could catch up on the surprisingly long list of things I have to do this week. By 'made a conscious effort' I mean that I got out of bed early and left the house about 45 minutes earlier than usual. The tube did nothing but deter me and my good intentions by getting stuck in a tunnel for about 20 minutes.
Making dinner for Mustafa tonight and getting my new phone from him - yay! Lasagna - another yay!
Not that there's been that much to say. Was meant to go to a 30th birthday and a housewarming at the same time on the same night this past weekend. I tried in vain to do both but it turns out Heather lives on a street that does not appear in my A-Z. Then my phone battery died, meaning I couldn't call her for directions. So I stayed at Guanabara and viruously sipped Mojitos for the rest of the evening, then took the tube home at a reasonable hour.
Hurrah for spirits and cocktails and not waking up feeling like something the cat dragged in. (I love that phrase but am curious to know what exactly cats drag in. And why cats? Are they renowned for dragging things in? In where?). A further hurrah for July when smoking gets banned in pubs in England.
Made a conscious effort to get into work early this morning so I could catch up on the surprisingly long list of things I have to do this week. By 'made a conscious effort' I mean that I got out of bed early and left the house about 45 minutes earlier than usual. The tube did nothing but deter me and my good intentions by getting stuck in a tunnel for about 20 minutes.
Making dinner for Mustafa tonight and getting my new phone from him - yay! Lasagna - another yay!
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
A sidebar about the tube and its tendency to react to any sort of weather like a neurotic Valium-dependent, constantly on the verge of hysteria.
In the summer it's hot so the trains don't run properly, in the autumn there are leaves on the track so the trains don't run properly, in the winter it's cold and it might snow so the trains don't run properly, in the spring it rains so the trains don't run properly.
What planet were these trains designed on?
In the summer it's hot so the trains don't run properly, in the autumn there are leaves on the track so the trains don't run properly, in the winter it's cold and it might snow so the trains don't run properly, in the spring it rains so the trains don't run properly.
What planet were these trains designed on?
It snowed last night.
Which possibly explains why I was FREEZING in bed last night (the heating normally turns off at 10.30pm and the house is pretty toasty by then).
Had an interesting sort of start to the day, chipping chunks of ice to ensure the freezer door could shut properly and the food within wouldn't go off while we were at work. Apparently Dianne dropped and smashed a bottle of beer after I left so some amount of chaos might still remain when I get home tonight.
Add this to our broken phone-line and the intermittent disobedience from the Sky box and the stove and the homestead is really falling apart these days.
Still, it snowed last night. Proper crunchy snow that didn't melt at first light.
You can imagine the effect the weather had on the tube, so I settled for a bus-ride into Blackfriars this morning, which gave me the chance to take in some of the wintery scenery. The streets were pretty slushy but other parts, like Clapham Common (and our back garden) had a picture postcard quality that I haven't seen in about five years.
Yay!
Which possibly explains why I was FREEZING in bed last night (the heating normally turns off at 10.30pm and the house is pretty toasty by then).
Had an interesting sort of start to the day, chipping chunks of ice to ensure the freezer door could shut properly and the food within wouldn't go off while we were at work. Apparently Dianne dropped and smashed a bottle of beer after I left so some amount of chaos might still remain when I get home tonight.
Add this to our broken phone-line and the intermittent disobedience from the Sky box and the stove and the homestead is really falling apart these days.
Still, it snowed last night. Proper crunchy snow that didn't melt at first light.
You can imagine the effect the weather had on the tube, so I settled for a bus-ride into Blackfriars this morning, which gave me the chance to take in some of the wintery scenery. The streets were pretty slushy but other parts, like Clapham Common (and our back garden) had a picture postcard quality that I haven't seen in about five years.
Yay!
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