Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Glutton for punishment

Have trained my workmate to throw me a chocolate whenever she gets one.

I feel a trifle ill.

However, the end is in sight because only the horrid toffee and plain dairy milk are left so I can stop eating chocolates for breakfast, elevenses, as a post lunch treat, 3pm pick-me-up and 5pm only-30-minutes-to-go reward. It's quite a relief.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

We have ourselves quite the merry not so little Christmas do

Skye and I decided that we ought to have a Christmas do and to hell with the fact that we were only giving people a week's notice. And then we kindly told Mike, seeing as how he lives here on the weekends, just so he wouldn't feel left out. And then the rejection texts and emails poured in and we thought, 'bugger, we hate our friends, why the hell can't they drop all their other plans and come to our soiree?', but pretended that we didn't care.

But we went ahead anyway, and it was, of course, terribly well attended, despite us not telling anyone that we'd (Skye) made Santa's Filthy Grotto. Some charming photos are floating around. I made asparagus rolls so that Mel would come. She was threatening not to, so I pulled out the big bribes.

Side note: I had a conversation recently with someone about how you have to make asparagus rolls with canned asparagus, otherwise you just don't get that 70s housewifely feeling of accomplishment, or that nice squishy white bread and canned asparagus feeling of goodness. They were asking why on earth I'd use canned asparagus when there's so much fresh about. I don't think they'd ever had a really well rolled asparagus roll.

I think some other things have happened but obviously nothing particuarly impressive. Work rolls on - it's mostly good, but I do have the feeling that something is missing. Not sure what. It certainly isn't chocolate. All the companies that print or typeset for us have been sending us huge tins of chocolate for Christmas. One sent us an incredibly swanky box that had a four-page menu and a chocolate the size of a piece of toast. We were all very polite about not taking it, whilst secretly coveting it. And then, disaster. Word got around Sales and Marketing that editorial had treats and one morning we came in and the incredibly big piece of chocolate was gone. And no one would own up to eating it. I believe the cleaners were blamed.

London continues to get quite bloody chilly and I curse that I have yet to find a pair of woollen stay up stockings because I loathe tights and gussets. It's a hard life when this is my biggest worry.

I really do sound rather shallow, sometimes. Not all the time, of course, but quite a large percentage of it.

Am spending Christmas with Katie and Mike and Mike's family in some small village somewhere. Am going to be on my best behaviour. It can be done.

And then I believe I get a Kruse on the 28th. And if I don't, I might throw a tanty.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Cooking with gas

I feel that I may have been a bit too harsh about bananas last week. They’re edible if they’re sliced. But only then.

I managed to beat Skye home from work on Monday but my triumph was cut short when I realised that we were having a power cut. As was most of the street. Not to be deterred from food I gleefully fired up the gas stove with handy old matches and set about having a glass of wine whilst I cooked by candlelight. Skye, pre-warned of the darkness, came home bearing pizza. No risotto for her. But we did manage to set off the alarm, meet the new neighbours because of this, and get permission from the landlord to take the alarm apart by force, if necessary. In the end we only had to cut some wires.
However, our night was about to get much more exciting. We played Scrabble by candlelight. I won, but it was pretty close and there was some name calling.

Went to Crowded House on the weekend, although Kruse refuses to believe this. I think he’s just jealous. It was very good, with much audience participation and holding up of cell phones in lieu of lighters. On the tube on the way home a man asked me if my name was Shasta or Clarissa or something similar. To which I said no. Well, it’s not, is it? He pondered this for a bit and then asked if I was in Philosophy 201 at the University of Canterbury. Right university, but wrong class. Which I said, but I don’t think he believed me and whispered loudly to his friend that he did know me and it was philosophy that we took. If I had been feeling generous I probably could have helped him work out where he thought he recognised me from, but I was more in the mood to hum ‘Better be home soon’ to myself (last song of the concert, very apt) instead.

Spoke to Spanna in Melbourne and was immediately overcome with a longing for summer and drinks in the garden bars of pubs with the chums who live there.

And I finally got around to posting some presents home, so those should be turning up in about six weeks.

Spanna proposed a theory last night, and I’m inclined to agree with her, that the tube sucks energy from people through their feet. And happiness. Am not liking the tube.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

And for my next trick . . .

Have been living at Mike and Skye's for two days and have already managed to give Skye and myself mild food poisoning.

Also, I was fortunate enough to experience a trip to the emergency room. Katie decided that enough was enough with my swollen foot and made me go. I did some waiting. Some reading. Some admiring of the public toilets. And then some x-raying. And some explaining of how I hurt my foot in the first place:

'So this guy was being a wrestler and picked me up and body-slammed me onto an airbed and on the way down I hit my foot on the table . . .'

The problem was, of course, that the nurses just stopped listening after I said 'wrestler' and concluded that along with my charming accent, I was a charming lunatic. Fair call, really.
But, foot is not broken, just really, really bruised and swollen so any plans I might have had to get round to doing some exercise have had to be shelved and now I spend all my spare time eating chocolate and reading. So very little's changed.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

I've done older women before

Yes. This is indeed the way to get a woman. I mean, if it weren't for Kruse and the fact that I didn't find this wee 20 year old at all attractive, hell, he'd have been in with that line.

Side note: why are carrots and bananas so horrible?