Mid-week

Had Deborah round for dinner last night, made her a beef stew based on the Paleo diet. was pretty good but since the Paleo diet is strictly no salt the only thing I could think of to say about it was 'needs salt'. I was thinking about making a blog of my Paleo experience and putting recipes and stuff on it but it seems everyone who does similar puts pictures of whatever they've cooked and I don't own a camera. So no dice. Giving up salt hasn't been as hard as I thought. I really was expecting everything to taste of nothing, not only because I used to eat SO much salt but also because I'm a smoker. Turns out salt tastes like salt. Miss it a little bit but have a bad feeling I'm going to be making faces when eating other peoples food in the future because its 'too salty'.

Soho Gym

Besides the inevitable cycling into work not alot was achieved yesterday apart from joining and attending the gym! It finally happened. As I hadn't eaten that much, hadn't been to the gym for literally YEARS and had cycled 18 miles in the preceeding 24hrs after a 17 day hiatus I couldn't do that much but at least it was a start. Was so tired, had to get off my bike and walk a portion of the way home ... there was nothing left to give in my muscles. Despondently ate some leftovers, watched TV, had a bath and went to bed.

God bless Soho Gym by the way. Gym of choice for the buffest men in London and by God does it make me happy to see them. It was a Tuesday afternoon and I would say I saw at least 15 guys whose bodies wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of Men's Health. Already looking forward to going back.

Joyous return to work

Monday I cycled into work, did work, contemplated suicide and then went home. Embarked on the Paleo diet, think that might be worthy of a separate blog, if not only for my benefit. Rubbed a solution of vinegar and salt into some t-shirts to get deodarent marks out (something I've been saying I'm going to do for about 6 months) caught up with peeps on the phone and then popped over to ASDA to get some fruit, nuts and a bottle of water. Not a bad day really.

EVIL Delta, never again

Alarm went off at 5:30 I woke up feeling distinctly worse for wear. Didn't stop feeling incredibly unwell until about an hour into my flight and that was about 5 hours away. Got a car to the airport that had no air conditioner, but certainly had a functioning stereo out of which blasted gospel music all the way to the airport. Got to the airport and queued in a room no bigger than a primary school gym for 1hr 45mins to get through check-in and security. All the while being screamed at by officious Delta emplyoees "stand back against the waaall please" "Ma'am if you undo your bag there we're going to have to escort you outside". UGH! That lovely American way of saying "SIR!" with so much emphasis that they're basically saying 'Oi! TWAT!' with a mask of civility. Got to the airport incredibly early, which turned out to be a good thing cause if I'd shown up when Delta suggested I'd have missed my flight. Small suggestion for you Delta - have more than one metal detector for your entire international terminal. I'm just saying.

Eventually made it on to the plane which was pretty full and very delayed in taking off. Plane food was pretty good - chicken and grits - and the movies were as rampantly bad as ever. First was 21, gambling movie with Kevin Spacey acting like a pantomime dame and then Fool's Gold. I was excited that FG was the movie as I wanted to see it although I knew it would be shit and the plane is the perfect place for that sort of movie experience. Why did I want to see it? Cause of Matthew of course, might be his best movie so far. He was clothed for literally 20% of the movie. Amazing. Plus he's a homo apparently .... Foxley knows some guy who slept with him. There's a life goal. Wasn't too bad a flight really, think I was too tired to worry about dying.

As the plane was delayed taking off we missed our landing slot and circled Heathrow about 500 times. Eventually we landed, I got my bag and ten spent 2.5hours trying to get back to Clapham. It was the perfect 'fuck you' return to London. It was cold, everything was delayed, the tube was unbelieveably inefficient and I finally got to bed at 1am. 15 hours of travelling. Nice.

Farewell

I went to bed with the intention that I would get up on Saturday, have breakfast with the guys and then head up to Harlem. Which is pretty much what I did, excpet I went to bed at 4am so breakfast eneded up being at 3pm. That, plus an episode of Iron Chef America meant I arrived about 6pm. Couple of drinks and cigarettes on the deck and we were heading out for round two of the ever so good Isohama. sushi was even more amazing than last time, not only because the fish was fresher but because we ordered a round up of all time favourites. Two words people WHITE TUNA. OMG. Plus they make a mean Lychee Martini - not the sweet, cloying srup I've had in London but a refreshing and cranberry-dry sophisticated cocktail. Yum. Afterwards we headed out on the town and toured around a couple of bars. Names escape me but good company, crazy Russians and hot handymen do not. Eventually we rolled in watched an episode of Scrubs and I went to sleep about 2:30. Last night in NY *sniff*.

Lisa Garza Day

Suffering a massive hangover from the previous night meant my activites were pretty much limited to ordering fried chicken from Georgia's East Side Barbecue (AMAZING) and watching 5 hours of a reality TV show about a competition to be the next star (TV chef) on the food network. God its good. I'm sad not to be able to see it anymore. Perhaps I can find it on surfthechannel. Hmmmmm. Mostly due to the lady who titles this post. Go find her, I swear she's barely human. James and Corty are made of sterner stuff then I and both re-commenced drinking with the intention of going out. To be fair it was 4th July and a little partying was to be expected. As evening rolled around we could vaguely make out the East River fireworks from the fire escape of their apartment. A better view could be had from the roof but even the thought of stepping onto the fire escape filled me with nausea. Besides, firewaroks, meh, who cares? Saw the biggest fireworks display EVER in London and that was good, but has ruined all other firework shows thereafter. Jame and Corty ended up not going out, but spotted a party going on in the building next door. Corty was concerned it was a bit of a 'sausage fest' and wasn't to keen on going. James, with the irrepresable spirit of the part and the determination that there'd be more girls inside, took a flying leap of the side of the building and fell 7ft to the building below, landed awkwardly and bruised both his ankles. He tried to walk it off and maintain composure. But crippling agony and the realisation he'd crashed a gay party meant he soon returned home! Corty took advantage of the situation and piled James' bed (with him in it) with shoes, shaving foam, umbrellas and toilet roll. I've got the pictures, but not sure how to get them from phone to computer.

Mi casa es Schnabel's casa

Woke up with the realisation that I had but a few short days in NY and had as yet failed to visit an art museum of any description. Being that MOMA has probably the best art collection in the world and had recently been refitted I decided to head there. The art was as extraordinary as ever - an unrelenting sequence of art historical superstars hung tightly together, giving the impression of being repeatedly slapped. The new building was outstanding - large, open, public spaces full of light without any sense of intimidation. The most successful part was the flooring and the way the walls ended half a centimetre before touching it which gave the whole gallery a sense of lightness. Very Japanese, no surprises as it was a Japanese architect, Yoshio Taniguchi who was responsible for it. Perhaps the only bad thing was the way the paintings were hung - too many high imapct paintings on the top floor made the next floor down a somewhat deflated balloon of American works. I liked that the paintings were on the top two floors though - meant I saw more of the prints etc than I otherwise would've bothered with. Didn't like the paintings being on the top floor cause I nearly passed out walking across one of the elevated walkways with their glass walls. I soon learned to keep my eyes fixed straight ahead and not look either side.

Also realised I hadn't bought ANYTHING during my whole trip and so stopped at SAKS on my way out. Brief flash round, brief acknowledgement of how cheap I am and back onto the pavement. Then took a long walk from 55th to 27th street looking for somewhere to eat and ended up at a random Vietnamese place that was both cheap and tasty. After that was invited round to the Duke's house and spent a happy couple of hours dipping and drinking beer. Alas the Saint had heavenly duties in Harlem and so I headed to the Bowery solo where the beer drinking continued and delicious lobster bake was ordered from Nolita. Foxley came and joined us and we headed out to Marie's Crisis. Marie's Crisis is a gay piano bar and is principally known to me as the place Parker Posey's character works in Adam and Steve. As show tunes and live music are my ideas of fresh hell I was dragged along to get my hackles up and to endure the experience. I can see the appeal, the bar itself is great ... underground shame hole with some great behind-the-bar art and a massively saggy-bosomed proprietress. If only they'd just stop with the singing. After that we headed to the Rusty Knot on the West Side highway a particular favourite of Foxley's. Was pretty fun ... drank $11 Mai Tai's till they were coming out of my ears and pinnochio's nose was coming out of my face.

On the way out we'd walked passed Julian Schanbel's insane 17 storey mansion Palazzo Chupi [above] and Foxley was telling us about how it had been renovated and the spec of the place. On the way back, under the influence of much booze, James disappeared through the front door said to the doorman 'Hey, I'm Jean, I'm here to see Julian' and swished into the lift. A short while later he opened the garage door and we all crept into his house. Having been used to the boxy rooms and tight living space of most NY apartments it was very unusual to be in a place where entire rooms, nay entire floors, were given over to the installation of art. After four or so floors of art installation mania (eg the garge had two giant 15ft high figures fighting with what appeared to by giant needles) I started feeling guilty about being in someone else's house and so left. Corty and James powered on up and got high enough to hear footsteps and a dog! Eventually the doorman came to get them, seemingly very relaxed about the whole thing saying 'I hope you guys had a good time' and they were lead back onto the street.

Rocky is a national treasure

Despite our intentions to make an early start and take in some historical sites gin, pot and cheesesteaks ensured our depature was in the pm rather than the am. We headed over to the Reading Terminal Market which is glorious emporium of every imaginable cuisine mixed in with stalls of produce. Could easily imagine myself spening a great deal of time in there .... might even be worth moving to Philadelphia for. Hmmmm maybe I shouldn't be quite so obsessed with food shops. After 'breakfast' we swung by the house and picked up E's boyfriend and headed over to the Mutter museum of medial oddities. They'll try and tell you its the museum of the College of Physicians of Philadeplhia but I know a siamese-twin fetus in a jar when I see one ... and they had about 15. I'm not sure when I started likeing medical oddities and taxidermy. Both seemed to have emerged around the time I first started reading David Sedaris. I'd like to think his work awoke within me latent love of stuffed fauna and freakish skin conditions but have a sneaky suspicion I'm just imitating him like an imprerssionable 16 year old girl with a bedroom full of posters. Either way I left the Mutter museum educated, impressed and nauseous ... what's better than that? Along with a large collecion of skeletons, babies in jars and dried children's corpses (I shit you not) they have the distended colon from a guy who had 40lbs of poop removed from inside him when he died. Mmmmmm.

After the museum we did a quick driving tour of the major points of interest in Philly: city hall, indepedance hall, the university, West Philly (y'all know it from the Fresh Prince of Bell Air theme song) the boat clubs and the art museum. The steps of the Art Museum were famously cannonised in the Rockey movie and now, helpfully, there is a statue of Rocy there to remind you of the fact. Its at the bottom of the steps. They wanted to put it at the top, but apprently the ART museum had a problem with that. Can't imagine what. Hopped a train to Penn Station and before long was back in NY and the comfort of Harlem.

Philadelphia

Due to making decisions when drunk I woke up with a mission to head to Harlem, change and pack for a quick jaunt to Philadelphia. Corty's sister was driving his car back and we decided to join her. Henry spent a year there, Corty is from there and I'd never met his sister before (everyone kept telling me how much I'd love her) so many good reasons to go. Very glad I went as well, enjoyed Corty's sister as much as everyone said I would and liked Philadelphia more than I thought I ever could. For me it was almost the exact opposite of New Orleans. I expected the Big Easy to be a load of old buildings and creaking history but actually found a modern concrete jungle with a histroic district. Philadelphia, howver, I expected a modern connurbation but actually found rampant history with a small, modern business district. I'm sure it helped that E lived in the historic part of the city so I saw that bit first, but still, the overall impression was one of cosy historicism.

We got into town and met boyfriend and dog. The human constituents of our party then headed out for dinner. As a special treat for me someone had managed to organise a warship being parked up near the city so there were sailors in uniform EVERYWHERE and we sat outside a Cuban restaurant for dinner so had a great view of all of them. After an OK dinner Corty and I headed into the silent bars of Philly (apparently Tuesday night in Philly is not so hot) and drank a bottle of gin between us. This was followed by a bit of drunk driving to Pats at 3 in the monring for a cheesesteak. As Corty is a native of Philadelphia and a good friend I've heard over many years the glory of the cheesesteak and was eager the try it out. Being a contrary sort of person and definitely NOT a fan of processed cheese I was all reay to be discerning and hate it. First few bites I was impressed but not overwhelmed, about half way through I hit the sweet spot and it went from being good to one of the greatest things I've ever had to eat. The combination of steak, onions, cheese whiz and bread is something truly extraordinary. Each component as tasty and as necessary as the other. It pains me to know that I will not have an authentic one again for a long time.

Day of Ken

On Ken's suggestion we (Ken, Jen and I) headed downtown to go see an art exhibition. After stopping for a cheeky beer (would've been more but it was already about 5pm) we headed over to the gallery. Which was shut on Monday. Taking this in our stride I'd had the happy news that Corty was back in town after finally leaving the Poconos. Luckily as he'd been in the Poconos he came back with an ice chest full of beer which we quickly demolished. After some food (FANTASTIC burgers from La Esquina, best in NY? Haven't had enough to say for sure but they were pretty damn good!) all trooped off to Brooklyn on the promise of some Burlesque action. Turned out to be more of a vaudeville show with contortionists, magicians and removers of clothing in the line up. The acts ranged from nightmare inducing [woman dressed a pinocchio strips to reveal boobs with pasties on them and a nine inch rubber penis] to impressive [guy steps into a de-strug tennis racket, puts his head into it and pulls it back over his folded body]. After that we went to Church (not THAT kind of church, no one wants blood dripping down the walls so I try to steer clear of actualy religious structures), listened to Gospel and danced to a live band. Went back to the Bowery, smoked a doob and unconciousness was easily reached.

Dip, peace and Aliens.

Woke up early(ish) in the morning and headed uptown to the blissful peace of the Harlem deck. Comfort and serenity was shortly enjoined by delicious food and much rubbing of belly. Had a (million potions of a) dip of cheese, chicken and spices [propriety prevents me from revealing too much] and if that wasn't enough was followed up by delicious, tender, fall apart when you breathe too hard on it meat and pasta. Who's a lucky house guest? Along with the food there was great company and Trivial Pursuit action. Much hilarity was had on Ken's suggestion that we make aliens out of our chins and film them upside down. First time I've cried with laughter without the aid of drugs or a comedian in quite some time!

Saturday brunch, New York, New York

Got up, hooked up the AC and went to brunch. Ate a cobb salad in a place that was NY from its checkered floor to wood ceiling. Great brunch place. Would've felt more NY if there'd been an American at breakfast but it still worked with a Canuk and a couple of english guys. Went back to James' place and we celebrated the cool delights of the AC. We then tidied the huge amount of mess out of James' giant apartment and it was almost habitable by the end. Had a joint, got chinese food. Chinese food was courtesy of Joe's Shanghai and their legendary soup dumplings. They were everything I hoped for and a little more. By the late evening I was stoned and in no mood for the coke fueled high-jinks planned for on the town so headed to bed and blissful sleep.

Heat, heat and then some humidity for good measure.

Friday woke up on James' couch in sweltering heat and pretty much stayed in the same position and temperature for the rest of the day. James didn't get up til 4 and I was too hungover and hot to consider creating fun for myself. In the evening I ended up getting pot and ice cream. Later on Foxley came over and we hung out, watched TV, got EXTREMELY hot and sweated. At about 11:30 Foxley couldn't take any more and headed home. At about 12pm James said 'I should really hook up the AC in here'. Turned out that he had a $2000 air conditioner for the living room which was functional apart from the fact that it was not hooked up. I suggested we do it now but James said it would take hours and was too stoned to attempt it. We hooked it up in the morning. It took about 4 minutes. I hate him. So do my sweaty clothes.

Booze, guitairs, pot and fifties dancing

Most of Thursday's activities were relegated to lying on the sofa and going ooooh, aaaaah at the pain in my poor muscles. Still slightly sore now and its 4 days later. First activity of the day was meeting the Saint at her office, alas severe injury and David Sedaris meant we had to reschedule for meeting at the Food Emproium instead, not exactly a hardship. After a quick shop for o-so-delicious curry paste and a suicide-inducing crawl through NY's finest muggy heat we arrived at Brendan's apartment. An evening of pot-smoking, guitair playing, drinking and drunken shouting ensued. Its hard thinking about being grown up and successful and celebrating with fancy clothes and chamagne when all I ever want to do is drink beer, smoke pot and sit on a couch. Could be hard to pull off at a work function. So after a blissfully debauched scene I dragged myself out to meet James and Jenny. Jenny is an old-school NY party girl was a feature of the Party Monster book/movie/murder. Needless to say time hadn't dapened her party inclination and after hitting a couple of less than enticing venues we danced into the small hours to jive music at some downtowm dive bar. I was drunk. I accidentally made out with Jenny. I blame her.

Like a person, but better

Today I woke up sore from yoga yesterday. Yesterday's yoga was in preparation for the fact that Carleigh was going to take me to a full on yoga class. As I hadn't done any yoga for a while and had never been to an Ashtanga class I thought I'd better have a go before humiliating myself in public. Turns out I needn't have bothered since everyone in the class was bascially elastic held together by rubber and I'm more fat and gristle held together by titanium and dodgy ligaments. Thought I did well all things considered and was absolutely pouring sweat within 2 seconds of the first salutation. I'm a big fan of jumping in at the deep end, think you learn faster and achieve more and the class was certainly that. Have been very stiff and suffering ever since but a hot bath and some delicate streching (and 4 G&T's) mean I'm feeling no pain. After class Carliegh got me a coconut water drink (which I have a funny feeling I could become obsessed with ... has the strangest taste and texture, amazing) and then bought me a sushi lunch in a place a couple pf blocks down fifth avenue. After that we rode the subway together and she dropped me off so I could go grocery shopping at Trader Joes. Headed home and was pleasently surprised to find the Saint in residence. we hung out, got groceries and then Carliegh came over for dinner. Dinner and drinks on the deck were followed by a quick blast of opera in the stairwell courtesy of Carleigh. Couple more drinks later and I'm ready for bed. Quite the day.

New York a la Francaise

Wednesday was spent in anticipation of seeing Drury. I was expecting that to be about lunchtime but it ended up being more about 4. Spent a peaceful day doing yoga on the deck, enjoying the sunshine and having lunch. Went downtown to meet Drury and managed to squeeze in Chipotle and picking my keys up from the Saint. Hung out with Drur for an hour or so and then headed to James' place. Met Taylor for the first time, great guy. Southern drawl, could give a shit attitude and a pipe full of green. My kind of guy. Was invited by Steve to go to an opening at the Milk gallery. Great to see her, not so great to see the art ... coloured photos of Bowie, Lou Reed and some other douche. Quelle horreur. Fun though, was like being on a film set of every New york art party I've ever seen committed to celluloid. Lots of beautiful people looking over each others shoulders, downing the free booze and generally looking very pleased with themselves. Elijah Wood was there, unsurprisingly small but surprisingly unprepossessing. In the same way that restaurants you see on television look very run of the mill in real life, so did Elijah. I was expecting lumious blue eyes and star quality. I got friendly looking short guy. Afterwards we all went to a French restaurant opposite Pastis for salad nicoise and steak tartare. Great meal, great company, great night.

Travels with the Subway

Yesterday was spent going round the city on the subway to have lunch with James, drop Drury at an appointment and meet the Saint at her office. I'm still in such tourist heaven than simply walking around and looking is all the entertainment I need. Saw a lot of the city, saw a lot of sunshine and walked up a storm. Met the Saint and she took me to some of New York's finer food emporiums ... great Asian supermarket, organic food nestled under tiled arches and an over priced gorcers straight off the pages of 90s design book. As if that wasn't reward enough we then met the Boss at the infamous Isohama and indulged in sushi heaven. Thanks to knowledgable and confient guides I was taken on a tour of Isohama's finest offerings and particularly enjoyed avacado sushi filled with crunchy shrimpy deliciousness and a seaweed salad containing the magical and mysterious invisbile seaweed. Short cab ride later and we achieved deck and cigarettes. Bit of TV then bed. Bliss

Deck the deck with boughs of beer

Sunday was spent in a mixture of sunshine and rain out on the deck drinking beers and smoking cigarettes. Was my first opportunity to meet the heavenly host associated with the Saint (including upstairs neighbour, bridal handmaidens and their relatives) and it was a fantastic day. highlight was the food ... delicious Cuban pork and a great leek risotto to go with it. Beer, jet lag and sunshine got to me and I was in bed by 11.

Mermaids and sleep

Saturday I went for breakfast/lunch with James and then headed to Union Square to pick up Drury. 6 years since I'd seen her. We all headed down to Coney Island to see the Mermaid Parade. Missed most of the parade but it was great to be in place that is mentioned in every New York based movie/sit-com ever made. Wanted to go on the rollercoaster but the line was too long. Perhaps a return visit is in order. Walked along a surprisingly nice beach and then came back into town. On the way back to James' we stoppped at Chipotle and got burritos. Words cannot describe the glory of Chipotle .. spicy, healthy, voluminous - I'll be going back post haste. The idea was then to go back and have beers before heading out for Jenny's birthday. While James went out to get beer I decided to take a quick disco nap, it was 9 ... thought I could sleep to ten and be ready for a long night out. Instead I slept til 7:30 and was ready for breakfast.

The city so good they named it twice

I'm in New York! I'd never understood the 'named it twice' moniker for New York until someone I knew moved here and told me their address. Silly me. Decided I need to blog before I forget everything I've done and when people ask me what I did on my trip I look blank and say 'Went for drinks?'. Flew in on Friday after enduring 8 hours of stress and fear. Neither of which was relieved by the in flight movie selection of the Spyderwyck Chronicles, Horton Hears a Hoo and 27 Dresses. Had the traditional NY taxi greeting of man who didn't know where I was going and didn't know what anti-perspirant was. It was hot, hot, hot ... humid and sticky. Nice change from London, feels like I'm enjoying a city break while at the same time having the benefits of a beach holiday.

Arrived at the Saint's abode and as befits someone so cannonized it is heavenly. Leather couches, wooden floors and a glorious deck. Within 3 minutes of arrival I was on the deck with a beer, on my 5th cigaretteand the flight began to seem like a very long time ago. Unfortunately I wasn't allowed to tarry as my prescence was requested downtown. Got a local cab company to drive me down which meant I rode down in a giant blacked out SUV decorated with crucifixes. Went round to Foxley's place. first time I'd seen him in four years. Met his boyfriend and two of his boyfriend's friends before heading out to James' place. Had drinks there with Jenny and a Canadian guy and waited for Noods to arrive. When she got in we all headed out for drinks on the town. one short drink later that was abandoned and I headed back with Foxley to smoke pot and watch TV. Saw a great reality show about people auditioning to be presenters on the food network. I use the word 'people' loosely. James came over and I crashed at his about 6 am ... which was 11 am London time!

Houston, we have no problem

Mission achieved as far as Friday night was concerned, Rowley was drunker than Lindsay Lohan and I wasn't far behind. Saturday night was Amy's farewell drinks as she's off to Brazil for 2 months (must try not to hate her). So basically the entire weekend was a blur of alcohol and hangovers. Ugh. There must be more to life than this. Although if there was you'd think I'd have discovered it by now, so maybe I'll just go on with the booze. Was great to see Rowley, seems being at war agrees with him - he was looking tan and skinny. Guess that proves how misplaced the beauty industry's focus is. He got some weird stomach bug and lost 14lbs in 4 days and has been at war in a desert. Don't see that making it way into any 'Editor recommends' columns any time soon. Should probably not underestimate the fashion industry though.

My office is freezing. FREEZING! Its sunny outside and I'm sitting here in three layers wishing I'd packed my jumper this morning, but since my cycling outfit was shorts and t-shirt you can see why I thought it'd be OK to leave it at home. Stupid air-conditioning.

On a lighter note

Went round to Henry's last night and ate potato wedges and watched the Apprentice final. Was nice. Wasn't so nice trying to cycle into work this morning after all the vodka and wine I had to drink last night. Mmmmmm wine. Rowley returns from Afghanistan tomorrow with the intention of 'drinking an amount that would make Shane McGowan blush'. I'm going to be HAMMERED.

Slave labour

I've been working ALL day today. ALL DAY. Out of a possible 3.5 hours of work 3.3 of it has been charged to clients. I only did 8 hours of billable work in January. Its almost like I've got a job. The lawyer I share an office with started at 4am. Urgh.

Date night

Met up for a second date with the guy I went shopping in Tesco with. I'm officially going to have to stop using the word 'date' as neither night could've been further from a date. I guess last night sounds like a date ... we got coffee at Whole Foods, took them to Hyde Park and then went back to his place and watched a movie. But in terms of conversation (hot guys, random internet sex he had two days ago) it was most definitely not a date. Think that's a good thing as it seems to me he needs friends more than he needs a boyfriend at the moment and I'm so emotionally retarded that the whole idea of being something other than friends with someone fills me with nameless dread and overwhelming panic. Really nice evening though ... we watched White Chicks! It was OK, he's a big fan and as a result had quoted most of the funny lines by the time they came round so all I could muster was a gentle chuckle of recognition rather than guffaws of merriment, but I've definitely seen worse. The last 30mins I could've lived without (in fact I do live without the last 15mins as it was late and his DVD was scratched).

Its good to be out there though ... actually meeting new people and acting like a person. Its a step forward. All I've got to do now is have two surgeries, loose weight, have therapy and I'll be ready for a relationship. Yay me.

Bane of my life

Just sitting here fuming at my desk when I suddenly remember I have an output for my impotent rage: the internet! Lucky internet. I was in the process of considering my greatest enemy and the scourge of humanity at large: transitions lenses. They are the ugliest, stupidest scab on the face of humanity ever to be propegated by a company. Designed seemingly for people devoid of all taste and style they are at least a lighthouse of social inability. Like the bells they used to make lepers wear they flash hideously from the gormless troll who decided to buy them 'stay away, stay away I have no taste and incapable of forming relationahips'. Bleurgh. I once vowed to kick eveyone I ever met who wore them. This created quite an awkward situation at a restaurant where I worked cause the boss wore them. A stumble and a 'whoops!' managed to disguise (vaguely) my viscious assault on his cankle.

BUY SOME PRESCRIPTION SUNGLASSES YOU CHEAPSKATES. Or stay indoors. If you own transitions then for the sake of everyone on the planet choose the latter option. And for your own sake take them off if you see me coming. BTW if you do own transitions lenses then WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? Don't you watch the news? Transitions lenses are the eyewear of choice for every paedophile on the planet (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/7441793.stm). Should tell you something.

Window into my soul

Here's a little peek into my subconcious ... I imagine the experience will be similar to that of looking at the scary face Michael Keaton shows Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin in Beetlejuice. Last night I had a dream about that girl I met about 2 months ago who is on Shipwrecked. Haven't seen her since. Anyway she went missing and I eventually found out that my close friends Laura and Jack (who are a couple) had murdered her because Jack had raped her and she was going to go to the police. I think that's going to be the plot of the new Pixar movie.

Boozin

Having survived my massive hangover on Saturday, mostly because of the glorious buffet of eggs/sausages/bacon/beans/toast etc served up by the hotel ... what a sight when you're insanely hungover, tears sprang to my eyes ... I killed an hour or so by wandering round St. Helier. Headed to the airport and ended up waiting HOURS because my flight was delayed. Bastard Flybe. To add insult to injury they then flew me back to England on a plane with propellers! PROPELLERS! Not only had I traveled to Jersey but apparently through time as well. Everytime the plane moved, ticked, squeaked or sounded funny I gripped my seat rests and prepared myself for death. Luckily it never came.

Spent the evening with Dave and Deborah, went to Pucci Pizza (v good) and then bars on the Kings Road (v bad) and then back to bars in Putney and to Debs' house. Dave is a friend from law school who lives in Peru and has the greatest job on the planet. Its a testament to how much I like Dave that I enjoy his company and have a laugh with him, anybody else and I would be consumed with the greem flames of incandesent hatred and be forced to murder him, wear his skin and take over his life. He lives on the beach, eats giant Argentinian Lomo steaks that cost him £3, drives around in his 4X4 with his ultra cheap petrol sky diving, surfing, climbing mountains and being chased by gringo-loving uber-hot Peruvian girls. Pure coke is £1 a gram (neither of us indulge but STILL, helps to get the party going for everybody else) and buying a round of drinks for every person in a bar would probably cost $5. Oh and on top of that he works for ten weeks and then gets a three week holiday, for which his company will pay for a flight to and from anywhere in the world. Puts things in persepctive. Couldn't happen to a more deserving guy really, he's Irish (alright there fella, what's the craic? Fancy some boozin later?) and lovely. In fact he's somewhat reminiscent of Colin Farrell's character in scrubs. Great to see him anyway and I can't wait to get over there and see what there is to see and hang out with him some more.

We were up til 4am drinking. Sunday I didn't do much. No surprises there.

Perks of the job

Friday afternoon I was indulged in a serious work-related perk. We had the corporate department dinner and it was held on Jersey. So not only did we get flown down to the Channel Islands and put up in a really nice hotel (http://www.grandjersey.com/Hotel/Photo-Gallery/) but we also go to miss a whole afternoon of work! Ooooooh! Arrived at about 5, went out onto the terrace and smoked (packets of cigarettes £1.50 each on the plane, God bless tax havens) and drank til dinner. It was a big spit roasted pig and it all looked delicious. Unfortunately it was a bit windy so by the time I'd sat down the food was STONE cold and didn't taste of much. Had about 600 beers by way of comepensation. Bonded with people from the Guernsey office, saw Brenda from the X-Factor sing live, threw up, went to bed. I was so drunk that I don't remember about 2 hours at the end of the evening which is a good thing as I was dancing, but a bad thing as so were the middle aged straight guys from my office. Apparently one of them did the splits. Definitely missed out on that. Adrina assures me that I appeared to be sober and did nothing to embarrass myself. I knew all the drinking at St. Andrews would pay dividends at some point.

Egg on my face

I cycled into work this morning and for real, big smile on my face, Mr Bluebird on my shoulder etc etc. I love that my seratonin uptake is so non-existant that a few days of missing excercise and I can't see the wood for the trees. 40mins on a bike later and everything's gravy

Guru

I'm obsessed with this guy: www.arthurdevany.com. This would normally be the point at which I would say I was going to follow his word to the letter, but really I don't know if I have the dedicaton. He's right though. Read this http://www.arthurdevany.com/webstuff/RevisedEssay.pdf and feel inspired!

Did I win yet?

I've been trying very hard recently to win 'least updated blog on the internet' I've not got word from the awards committee yet but I'm sure that has something to do with Royal Mail and the poor standard of carrier pigeon they favour. Its only a matter of time before I am afforded the recognition I deserve. Why the lack of posting? Just been grumpy I guess. Was grumpy on Friday night and crapped out on birthday drinks that I REALLY should have gone to and my mood hasn't improved since. Saturday I spent 10 hours TEN helping Henry move house. He moved from the fourth floor of one building to the fourth floor of another and NEITHER have lifts. UGH. Plus Henry owns so much stuff that it took a rental van, a station wagon and a regular car two trips back and forth to get all his stuff. Only upside was that I got to drive the van and good GOD do I love driving vans.

Sunday I went to see the SATC movie. Everytime I mention the film I call it the 'new' SATC movie. Why? I just typed 'new SATC' and had to delete it. Anywho, went round to Henry's for Cosmos and brunch before heading over to the cinema. The movie was Celine Dion. Explanation: I hate Celine Dion, she makes my blood boil, my fists clench, sweat break out on my brow and I can feel an angry scream building in my throat everytime she winks or does something equally as cheesy [side note, just typing that has made me somewhat enraged] but at the same time I think she has probably the greatest singing voice on the planet right now. In terms of purity of tone and her ability to change note without sliding she is unparalelled. One of my fondest wishes was to take acid and go see her show in Vegas. The visual spectacluar, the soaring voice and my absolute rage would've been quite the experience. To be at once both enraged and blown away, thats what I call a night out. That was the way I felt about the SATC movie. It was at once both terrible and extremely good. The only things I really like about the show are the jokes and the fashion and both were of very high quality in the movie. The bits I don't like about the show (Carrie, relationships, female perspective) were all off-the-charts irritating and the story line was nowhere to be seen. I think I'll like it the more I see it, except for the bits with Jennifer Hudson in which can only get worse. Her prescence in the movie was so shoe-horned in and awkward that it felt like a different movie. So NUL points for Hudson so far - Dreamgirls was EVIL and she was shit in SATC.

Aside from that I've been coming home after work (ugh) and going up to my room (I want my own place) and watching SATC in the dark. Literally all I need is a box of bonbons and I'm a middle aged divorcee cliche. I think my being grumpy might have something to do with the fact that I haven't cycled for a while (too grumpy) and aren't getting my twice daily hit of endorphins, that or the fact that I'm having to wear cycling shorts under my suit to stop my bulging thighs rubbing together through the holes in the crotch of my suit.

One of those days

Got a puncture on my bike, had to wear horrible suit to work, avocado I had for lunch wasn't ripe, typed a HUGE e-mail which took 45mins which then disappeared. *Sigh*. Roll on 5:30.

The paths of good and evil

Just coming down to earth with some unpleasant jolts after a weekend of decadence in Amsterdam. Had a 6am flight from Gatwick to get, so obviously I went to bed stone cold sober on friday night at about 9pm. Except by 9pm I mean 2am and 'stone cold sober' means drunk off my ass, stoned to the point of incoherence and with some coke rubbed into my gums so I could stay awake on the cab ride home. Despite my best efforts to sabotage my holiday, I made the flight in body but not necessarily in mind. Was a great weekend of glorious sunshine, great food and smoking the reefer. Our accomodation was somewhat lacking in luxury but had all necesary amenities and it was an apartment, rather than a hotel so came with a certain sense of freedom. Our trip (6 of us, plus couple of others making brief guest appearances) basically consisted of smoking a joint, wandering to a cafe for a drink, wandering to a coffee shop and having a joint, getting lunch, wander, drink, wander, joint etc etc. As Amsterdam is the most beautiful city in northern europe and the sunshine was spectacular the whole holiday passed in blissful contemplation. Hit up the Rijksmuseum which was mostly shut and there was only a selection of about 9 rooms worth of stuff to see - couple of STUNNING inlaid cabinets, great Vermeers, surprisingly shoddy Nightwatchmen, great Rembrants.

The highlight of the trip had to be the food. This is a shame because when I tell people about it I can see them thinking 'you were so stoned you could've been eating gravel out of a bin and thought it was ambrosia' but really it wasn't just the pot, the food was incredible. We went to a Thai restaurant called the Bird and a great Indonesian whose name escapes me. The Thai was extraordinary - easily the best Thai I've ever had. We had one of those mixed appetiser starter things and every element of it was differently spiced, uniquely flavoured and cooked to perfection. I find Thai food suffers the most from lazy cooking - everything can easily end up tasting the same. The Bird puts such lazy caterers to shame and they should all be forced to go and experience the standard they should be aiming for.

Interesting thing I learned about Holland this weekend was that they have the WORST taste in music. A couple of locals (friends of one of my holiday companions) took us to a club that they said had funkier, edgier music they had found in the entire city. The night hit a low note when 'Summer loving' from Grease came on. Apprently the Dutch can't get enough of 80s power ballads either - I heard 'Alone' by Heart song about 50 times while I was there and had it stuck in my head yesterday and today as a result, in fact I'm humming it right now.

I went through this whole trip thinking seriously about whether or not I could move to Amsterdam. After my first trip there I took it as a given, but just to ensure that wasn't the pot thinking for me I gave it some serious contemplation this weekend from the point of actually existing there rather than just showing up, getting stoned and leaving. I guess the short answer is a resounding yes, especially since the people we met there told me that if you buy a flat in Amsterdam you get 50% of the value of the mortgage back out of your taxes. Its a small, perfectly formed city which means that funky newsagents, great food and fun bars are all within walking distance. The real estate is gorgeous and plentiful and obviously much cheaper than London. Its hard to deny that I would have a much better quality of life in the Dam than I do now. Plus it seems a paralegal there makes about 12K more than I do now. Hello.

So now I am faced with two options - move to Amsterdam or to Madrid. The Dam is much more the person that I was and still tend towards. I'd be in cold, northern european country, smoking pot, not going out very much, eating too much. Madrid and living with Drury would be far more inclined to clean living, yoga, sunshine (ugh) and socialising. So really I should move to Madrid, but I want to go to Amsterdam. Madrid would be really good for me, the Dam really enjoyable. The Dam a step back, Madrid a step forward. Hence the paths of good and evil. Which to choose? Perhaps the biggest plus for Amsterdam is that the language isn't too much of a problem EVERYBODY speaks english. Spain its more difficult because so many people speak Spanish. hmmmmmm.

Busy busy bee

I've acutally been really busy this week, sort of. I've been busy cause I've been sent on errands out of the office which has meant that I've sat down at my desk at about 3 o clock. However, as the errands involved taking documents to destinations all over London on my bike I've spent most of my work week on my bike in the sunshine, so its basically been a holiday (cycling tour of London? Pretty fancy holiday from that side opf the pond). Plus the documents should've been dealt with in a day, but these things are never as straight forward as you think they're going to be. I won't go through the whole saga, but just give an example from today: had to get a document stamped at the UAE Embassy. For some reason this costs £400, I cycle over there and discover you can't pay by card so schlep off to the nearest cash point. It says my credit card is broken (no office credit card, I have to pay and claim it back!) and can't be read and I can only get £250 out on my swtich. The Embassy is closing in 20mins, so I have no choice but to head back to the office. Cost to client £300, achievement 0. Been like that all week, shouldn't complain as its basically been my dream 'work' week but it has meant that I'm behind on blogging, MSN chats and my internet gossip.

For instance the fact that I went two days ago to get soup dumplings went completely unremarked (YUM YUM YUM) and I've barely got time to mention how rubbish the new Indiana Jones film is, which I saw last night. Its really not a difficult job to make a movie that meets my low expectations of entertainment - I've seen Alien versus Predator at least three times, not because I'm a sadist but because I think its a genuinely enjoyable movie. The fact that Indiana Jones made go 'God that was rubbish' shows how low the franchise has sunk, Brittany thought it was worse than 10,000 BC ... bit harsh if you ask me but she's not 100% wrong.

Back to the grindstone

I'm back at work after having the day off yesterday with an 'injured' back. Tuesday I'd cycled home like a maniac, did my usual 45min journey in 25 minutes, and woke up yesterday to realise there was no way I'd summon the strength to cycle in and couldn't face the cost and time it takes to travel in on public transport. Plus my nice suit is at the Brick Lane flat for me to change into when I cycle in so I'd have to wear the other one. 'Nice' is a relative term, it's my nice suit because its made of natural fibres, is tailored and doesn't have two holes in the groin. Bearing in mind I bought it in a charity shop and is tailored for a man who was roughly the same size as me but had a HUGE stomach ... mum removed a panel that had been inserted into the waist band and the trousers fit me perfectly, the jacket fits great round the shoulders and then there's about 5 meteres of spare fabric round the waist. The other is black polyester (just fabulous in the sun we're having), is ten years old and has two big holes in the groin. Sometimes I think I might be TOO fancy.

So why the rapido cycling home? Well, I had a date! It was organised at the last minute at work so I had the choice of cycling straight over (big sweaty mess in 15 year old jumper that is ripped, stained with bleach and had a white crust of dried sweat on the back) or cycling home and tubing it. So it was all in an effort to get home quickly, shower and get out in good time (as it turns out I had to wait 25mins for a train so it was all pointless anyway). Date was really nice, guy I met on the internet and had spoken to a couple of times on the phone. We had some drinks and then as I'd not eaten (he had) went in search of somewhere to get food. Due to a combination of my extreme cheapness and the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere we ended up going to Tesco to buy food. He needed to do grocery shopping, there was stuff I needed to get so we ended up shopping and then going home! Its not exactly a recipe for eroticism and romance, as dates go I don't think it would be high on anybody's list of aspirational outings, but I loved it! I love supermarkets, he was a great guy and was a really pleasant way to spend the evening. Plus I did the grocery shopping I'd been meaning to do for ages.

So it doesn't look like we'll be tearing each others clothes off any time soon, but I hope we'll definitely be friends and maybe it will lead somewhere in the future.

Ooooooh

Wow, my computer has forgiven me and finally I'm being allowed to blog again. Whats been happening? Hmmmmmm went to see the tutankhmun exhibition. Normally find old crap really boring but was absolutely blown away. Mum's birthday today so went home over the weeked. Joing the gym after work. Not a lot really. Out of the last 5 weekends I've spent 4 of them with family. THIS HAS TO STOP. From now on its going to be me me me (no change there) and hanging out with friends. Unless I'm at the gym, which should be 24 hours a day.

Ah Texas

My friend sent me this from Texas ... apparently this is a sign on her local pharma:

The Spanish cracks me up. Does Pharma mean pharmacy? why do they do screen printing? Oh its LA FAMA, means nothing to me

English Criminals

A drunk Barrister got shot today in a gun battle with the police in his £2million Chelsea flat. It might be the poshest crime I've ever heard of.

Actual fun

Having survived a few days of bored rain watching and misplaced anticipation I then embarked on some actual fun over the weekend. Spent time with mum on saturday afternoon wandering round the shops in glorious sunshine. Later on I cycled over to the BrickLane flat to pick up a pair of trousers I left there which I thought had my switch card in. My switch card was not in them. I cycled 12 miles for a pair of trousers. Plus I picked up my suit from there this morning and found my switch card in my suit pocket, so I could've got it. Grrrrr. Anywho, went home showered and waited for Andrew to arrive. Then we went over to the house mum was staying at (short walk across the common) where my brother was having a buffet/party for 5 or 6 of his friends. Got there and mum was absolutely plastered (arrived at 9:30, dinner was at 7:00) and spent the evening drinking and smoking with her and Andrew while everybody else went off to Infernos (ugh). Sample of my mum's conversation 'There was this time when I was going out with this Portugese bullfighter and I hit my head on a cupboard in his flat and had a concussion for three days. The doctor told me to stay in bed but I was so bored I went out and got drunk a lot instead, I was so concussed I don't remember anything about all three days'. That's mum for you.

Sunday I hung around the house and made curry before heading up to Stoke Newington in the afternoon for a barbeque that the Minges were having. Was fun, although the longer I was there and the drunker I got the more old and inappropriate feelings for Andrew resurfaced and I ended up sneaking off about 11pm without saying goodbye. Went round the Brick Lane flat which was in full party mode and ended up staying up til about 3am pounding beers and having a great time.

Monday was cinquo de mayo and after a morning of sitting outside in the pub enjoying the sunshine we re-camped to the roof of the Brick Lane flat (which has an amazing view of the city) and sat up there drinking beers, doing tequila shots and eating nachos. Lizzie's friends came over as well as a few of the usual suspects and in general a good time was had by all. The evening consisted of Vindaloo, Werner Herzog's new movie White Diamond (good) and a movie called Teeth about a girl who has teeth in her vagina (you can imagine). I also watched Southland Tales which is the new movie by the guy that did Donnie Darko. I thought Darko was TERRIBLE, really pretentious, seemingly full of hidden meaning but in fact meaningless and jumbled, poor characterisation and a film that wasn't sure what it was trying to be. Southland Tales confirmed my opinion of Richard Kelly (thanks IMDB!) ... possibly the worst film I've ever seen (so says a man who has seen Gigli 5 times and Swept Away) and this was in spite of the fact that it had Sean William Scott (future husband), the Rock (HOT!), Sarah Michelle Gellar (love her, well, love Buffy) and Bai Ling (speaks for itself) playing some of the major roles.

Back to work today. I will not cry. Well, not at my desk anyway.

Time well spent

So what did I do with my days off? Not a lot really ... the weather was terrible and many hours were spent indoors looking at the rain falling on my skylight. This was why the one day off got extended, its not really a day off if you're just inside waiting for the rain to stop is it? The one time I decided to go out on my bike I set off in shorts and sunglasses and by the time I got to the end of my road was slammed by a monsoon which quickly forced me back inside. The terrible weather definitely compounded my furstration with life in general - so many places in the world a day off work would mean cycling through sun dappled country lanes, wine tasting in local vineyards, ANYTHING but because I live in London it just meant staring resentfully at the sky and trudging to the supermarket for supplies. Thursday afternoon I finally snapped and went and met Clare for a drink.

Mum was coming into town for the weekend and Andrew was coming up from the south of France, alas I was to miss them both as I was off on holiday to Amsterdam for the weekend. Thursday I saw a show about a woman seeing what would happen if she smoked a lot of pot for a month (part of series in which she didn't wash for a month, had lots of plastic surgery in a month etc). This meant there were lots of shots of her hanging out in Amsterdam giggling hysterically while trying to conduct interviews, needless to say this got me all excited and full of urgent anticipation (on a side note, did you know that Pot isn't legal in Amsterdam, its just tolerated? Sensible Dutch people). So I texted Lexi on Friday saying 'ooooh I can't wait to go to the Dam its going to be so much fun' and she sent back 'I know! I can't believe we have to wait so long'. I was thinking it's only about 12 hours, can she really be that impatient? On checking my ticket it tuned out we're going on the 24th May. I'd like to point out that already that day I'd checked my flight details on line to see what time I had to get to the airport and failed to notice that I was intending to arrive three weeks early. Having to tell about 15 people that you are in fact NOT going on holiday as you'd previously thought is no fun whatsoever.

It's oh so quiet .....

Many apologies for lack of dedication to blogging. This lapse in attention has not been limited purely to the blogosphere but to life in general. Having recently had a week of holiday you'd think I'd be all gung ho and ready to launch myself into solid months of endless work but NO! In defiance of decency, hard work and the spirit of the blitz I was off sick for the last three days of last week. So that means I can manage about 2 and a half weeks of work before I require a holiday. I personally blame my boss ... I had a sore throat on Monday (possibly just from smoking over the weekend) which then developed in a cough on Tuesday morning and worsened throughout the day. Ended up being a long day and during the last two hours of work, both of which were outside conventional office hours, produced no fewer than 5 different contracts. so I was tired, miserable and dragging my sorry butt home when my boss heard me coughing and said 'God, bet you're not going to be in work tomorrow, go home, drink some lemsip and have an early night'. I mean she practically DARED me to take time off right? So I thought I'd have a relaxed day off and come back in. One became three, the rest is history.

Its all got to do with a general malaise over work in general. I quite like my job and its not too badly paid ... it's just not GOING anywhere. The whole point of the paralegaling was as a stop gap before I got my taining contract and became a high-flying legal eagle. Alas it was not to be and as the credit crunch deepens the possibility of a training contract slips ever further away. being paid an average salary in the world's most expensive city is no way to live. I spend my whole life not spending money, not going to restaurants and not going to the opera/pub/cinema , I pay minimal rent and somehow at the end of every month I have no money left. Obviously things could be a lot worse, but they could also be a lot better and I intend to do something about that. I've applied for a training contract starting September 2008. If it doesn't work out then I'm out of here ... job in Singapore, Dubai or Hong Kong. My original idea was a job in India, but foreign law frims are not yet allowed to practice there and I don't think anyone would employ me locally.

I've been trying to save money to take advantage of the half price shopping I'll be able to do when I'm stateside. Now, however, I'm cutting down on my extravagant spending plans and am considering it a relocation fund instead. If I get the training contract then I'm going to take August off and go traveling, if not then I'm using the cash to get to HK!

I see your Ramps and raise you some Monk's Beard

Had delicious Monk's Beard for dinner last night, a delicious vegetable apparently from Tuscany. Its only avaliable 5 weeks of the year. Steam it, put on olive oil, lemon juice and sea salt ... make yummy noises. Best thing about it is that it doesn't taste like anything else. Therefore can't give a taste comparison, even the texture is unique. Really good, sort of an intense vegtal taste and then a mellow, soft after taste. I'd eat it all year round if I could. I was looking for a picture of it on t'internet and apparently in England Monk's Beard (barbarata de fratea) is known as 'Johnny go to bed at noon'. Can't think why that didn't catch on.

Who am I?

Very nice weekend, canceled my plans at the lastminute to go out on Friday night in favour of a impecunios night in front of the TV round at Brick Lane. Woke up to GLORIOUS sunshine on Saturday, cycled home, showered changed, cycled to the station, hour to dad's house. Did yoga in the garden, hung out with my sister, took a bath, ate some food, watched TV, went to bed. On Sunday we took my sister swimming (she's four) then I spent the afternoon washing, oiling and fixing my bike before getting the train back to London, cycling to Brick Lane and eating delicious Caribbean curry.

Very pleasant all in all and achieved the goals of not spending very much money and doing some excercise. diet wasn't so great in that I'd failed to tell my dad I was eating veggie so had chicken twice, not too terrible I suppose.

I DID SOMETHING!

I went to the Japan Centre at lunch today with Adrina and did some shopping (http://www.japancentre.com/). I was so excited to go as I just LOVE LOVE LOVE an asian supermarket. This one didn't disappoint, although smaller than I was expecting (in my mind it was a five floor Harrods-style warehouse of Japanese treats. It was infact two shops , two floors each, not bad) it was crammed with bank account stripping goodies. Managed to restrain myself to some instant noodles, soy sauce (£1.99 for a litre of Japanese soy, so Japanese there isn't a hint of English on the label!), rice crackers and some instant miso. Very restrained considering I could've got knives made by a family whose current members and ancestors make swords (they were about £170 each), bamboo gardening implements (all I need is a garden) and enough cookware to fit out 100 Japanese restaurants. The two greatest finds were the Sake section and the sushi. Never seen so much sake before in my entire life, like a really good wine shop but all bottles of sake ... for sure going to go to the Sunday afternoon tastings they do. The sushi was made on site, was of a very high standard and is the cheapest I've ever seen. The sushi place down the street from my office charges £1 for two cucmber maki, here 6 were £1.60. They sell a foot long platter of sushi of many different varieties for £3.80. I had eel don buri for £4, amazing. Can't wait to go back.

The good life

Life continues quietly and calmly. I'm floating serenly on a pond of water lilies, in a skiff made of reeds, dangling my fingers in the water. Who needs excitement when you have contentment? Last night watched Enchanted with Amy, in my bed, drinking Mint tea. Was really enjoyable, Amy Adams was hilarious and whats-his-face-from-that-doctor-show was all debonnaire and handsome. James Marsden was surprisingly funny too (do I really need to mention that I love him? Probably not), only more Susan Sarandon could've improved the film.

Derren Brown came out yesterday. For those not in the know he's a 'psychological illusionist', basically he's a magician with an epic memory who doesn't claim to have magical powers and likes to show how his tricks work. If you haven't seen any of his shows then GO! Download! Find SOMETHING, he's really extraordinarily good at what he does. Most people find him creepy, so I obviously think he's insanely attractive and now I know he's on my team. Best get out my stalking kit.

UPDATE: Just read on his Wikipedia entry that he in fact came out in september of last year! Love that we're finally getting to the point where someone can come out and its not a national news sensation.

Weekend? What weekend?

Not too bad a weekend all things considered. Went to Hot Stuff on Friday night and ate lots of delicious curry, didn't go out as I was already quite drunk and was expecting mum to arrive first thing Saturday. Woke up to Miriam packing her sons bags for university (I mean folding his clothes and everything, bearing in mind she was doing this while he was still asleep ... I pity his poor wife) and mum came about midday. Went for a wander around the (charity) shops of Clapham Junction and bought a new suit and a couple of new shirts. Had a nice quiet evening in.

Sunday I made Gordon Ramsey's scrambled eggs for breakfast (YUM) and then we went to Up market and I had my first Caribbean curry for a while. Evil ladies had not heated up the vegetarian option AND they put the price up. I thought that was finally the worldwide increases in food prices entering into my life but since they put the price of a can of coke up by 10p I think it may be more arbitrary than that. Wandered round the market some and then dropped mum off at the tube. Went home, did domestic things and some yoga and then cycled back to Brick Lane!

Hurrah! Finally got my bike on. Didn't look like it was going to happen first thing in the morning, so sunny Sunday afternoon seemed the perfect time to break the cycling seal. Especially since my boss wanted me to come in early today, so it made sense for me to stay over Brick Lane last night. Was really nice, I do love my bike. Quite looking forward to cycling home this evening. Must get some WD40, chain's a bit dodgy. We watched the Orphanage last night, GREAT movie. Really well made, very atmospheric and scary as hell! At one point I let out a genuine scream of terror and I mean scream. Also watched Paprika, a Japanimation film ... even though I've taken acid a few times and huge amounts of mushrooms it was the single craziest experience of my entire life. I recommend it highly.

I thought yesterday was bad

Trip to Guernsey cancelled. Mother coming for the weekend instead. I'm like a non-stop 24-hour-a-day party animal

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

My life is very boring at the moment, which is nice. So far failed miserably on the cycling front but yoga is at least progressing. 12 minutes is my longest session so far but my back already feels better. Going for a haircut today in preparation for business trip to Guernsey tomorrow and also need to start putting together a care package to send Rowley in Afghanistan, apparently reading about horrific sports injuries and boobs in Nuts magazine gets old quickly.

Not quite

Instead of joining the gym last night and cycling in this morning I slept over at a friends house, watched a movie and ate noodles. 20min walk to work this morning. Hmmmmm not quite what I was aiming for. Think I might not join the gym anyway, too much money and it's not necessary to excercise. Should be able to achieve all that I want to achieve with yoga, cycling and my weights. Also going to listen to opera on my cycle to avoid listening to Britney for the 7000th time and broaden my cultural horizons a little.

Watched 30 Days of Night, was OK. Good all the way through and then compltetely stupid ending. Seem to have seen a couple of movies recently where people unnecessarily kill themselves just before the end of the film. Should go for Disney next. So cycling tomorrow ....

Crisis of the day

I left my coffee at Clare's house. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Life resumes

Behold the tragic, traumatising but inevitable return to work. Had a week off in the company of the Saint and enjoyed it all immmensely. Its all a bit of a blur because I have no short term memory to speak of, didn't blog once during the week and was pretty consistently hungover throughout. There was definitely drinking, eating of curry, flying to Scotland, performance charades, crazy old lady in a dungeon, discussion of weddings, drinking, superflat bagels TM, chewing of tobacco, consumption of sumptuous dinners (I some how managed to eat like a king while avoiding having to cook), endless stairs in the Tower of London and much laughter and shouting. Now, however, its back to a world where I can't spend money aimlessly, where food has calories and my actions have consequences. The real world. boooo

Not only am I back at work but the other paralegal in my office is away so I'm stuck with double the work. She's away becuase her mum has been diagnosed with cancer and she's gone to look after her. Obviously this situation is far more upsetting and more of a problem for her than it is for me but this blog isn't about her its about me. ME ME ME ME. Should go join the gym today. don't want to. Although it is full of men. By the end of this week I'm going to be back on the gym/cycling/yoga/vegan train and I'm not disembarking til June 20th (maybe I'll bounce off a station platform when I go to Amsterdam in a couple of weeks). Doesn't matter what order it all happens in or how its achieved but it will happen! Maybe gym tonight and cycle in tomorrow.

Sedition and Sedaris

Had book club meeting last night. We all read Me Talk Pretty One Day, well most of us did anyway. I've read all David Sedaris' books a while ago now so I wasn't exactly clear about what was in it and what was not. I always think of him as hilarious because I guess I view all of his stuff as a whole and you only remember the good bits. People were surprisingly unimpressed. MTPOD was the first of his books I read and I remember thinking it was amazing. I'm pretty sure this was most people's first experience of him as well and they weren't as happy as I thought they be. Fools! Ah well, its not like he's my boyfriend or anything (YET! Watch yourself Hugh).

Other than some deeply intellectual discussion about the book there was much drinking, shouting and talk of the gays (isn't there always). I also ate beef for the second time this week. I swear meat is addictive. Our book club is possibly one of the weirdest meetings on earth, it is both facist and full of drunken shouting, rule-bound but something of a royal rumble. For instance the meetings are minuted, but this is what they minute (last months meeting):

MINUTES

‘Tropic of Capricorn’, Henry Miller.

Present:
Henry
Aimee
Amy France
Greg
Doig

News

Members are very impressed by Aimee's lovely flat. It’s too fancy for the likes of Doig. Parnell has made dough and members make their own pizzas, it’s very exciting.

France went to Spain, where a fat bitch ate kebabs non stop. France missed the gays. France is knawing on a chicken carcass at this point. She finished her exams (snaps) and Mother France is coming to stay, but currently France has an unwelcome guest that cries. France has another book club (downward snaps). Her skirt isn’t Chanel.

Henry got his house! Top snaps. It’s lovely and it’s in Mile End on the canal. Doig, France and Greg will swim to and fro. He went on a booze cruise with Buffalowilliam and had a lovely time. They had a nice breakfast and a lovely lunch of beef and poisson soup, then cake. Henry is getting circumcised soon, by a hot surgeon.

Greg got promoted and is wildly buying tubs of M&S mini-bites with his pay rise. Snaps. He had mediocre sex with a hairy man. He is considering going for a drink with a Persian surgeon. Discussion ensues about Gaydar. ‘It’s another world, Parners’: France. The epic saga of the kitchen continues.

Parnell had her period.

Doig lost his job and was thrown out of the gym. He survived the earthquake.

Discussion ensues about food moralism. France gets very emotional. Debate gets heated. France says Doig is wrong to buy Lanvin jackets and cheap chicken.

France gets more emotional about cheap chicken. Henry needs 39 eggs per day so they must be cheap. Doig goes to the toilet because everyone is shouting now. All agree we must create less waste. France eats bananas so should be quiet, silly bitch. Jamie Oliver has a lot answer for.

Henry says he hates pizza as he shovels pizza in his mouth. Doig farts and is frowned upon.

Members choose ‘Me Talk Pretty’ by David Sedaris for next month.

Discussion

No-one liked the book. Parnell puts Spice Girls on to make having to talk about it more enjoyable. The Spice Girls make everything better.

Reading Tropic of Capricorn was the most difficult thing Greg has ever had to do (kitchen saga aside).

Henry compares it to Snow. He liked the first 40 pages but then hated it.

Members agree that it’s Henry Miller’s mentally ill ramblings and it makes it very hard to read.

He’s very mysoginistic. Is it groundbreaking porn? Does it say anything? No one knows.

No one liked the lists of things. It was an incomprehensible literary swamp. Pre war sense of urgency.

'Quim’ is the word for a lady’s front bottom in the book.

2 Become 1 moves everyone.

Nothing happens in the book, Greg says. Similar to Mrs Dalloway.

The book isn’t a biography but reads like one.

France compares it to T4 masterpiece ‘The Hills’.

Greg is getting very upset at this point about lists. He really doesn’t like lists.

France says the book was crude and it made her feel sad.

Talk turns to Henry’s impending Flirtini Party. Everyone very excited. The Limoncello comes out and talk of the book is abandoned.

Parnell shows her lovely tray that she picked up in Norfolk for £8.99. Doig has never heard of such extravagance.

Henry has sculptural arms. Everyone is encouraged to touch them.

Talk turns to child pornography. Discussion ensues.

In a move that makes Doig’s eyes water, talk turns to periods. Something dislodged inside Parnell a while back. The phrase ‘heavy level of gush’ is used by France. It’s not the talk of a lady, quite frankly. Parnell has an unlucky cervix. A whole other world has been opened up to Doig, quite literally. Thinks he will become a gynaecologist.

Condoms – yes or no? Henry is angling for a good barebacking session after the snip. France is too.

Henry’s declaration that ‘Incest is best’ is met with nods of approval.

Parnell doesn’t want to have one night stands, apart from with Greg. They are like a jigsaw puzzle with a wrong hole, or something to that effect.

Parnell takes us on an artistic tangent.

Limoncello is very refreshing and going down a treat.

France is a cold, dead shell of a woman.

SO basically, its all very highbrow and probably a little over the heads of the general populous at large. Its terrifying to think of the number of degrees, Masters, phD's and the staggering amount of money it cost to create a discussion about periods during a book club

Crazy-boss-lady make Buffalowilliam eat steak

Yesterday there was a desperate need to get some contracts posted off to France for a deal my boss was working on, as I mentioned yesterday she was not in the office, and in order to expedite this someone needed to go round to the printers and pick up some shareholder circulars that we were having made up. This was at 5, so I volunteered IMMEDIATELY thinking I could run this stupid errand, get out early and go meet Lexi for a drink. I'm given three envelopes and have to get 6 documents, 2 different kinds, one for each envelope. Go to the printers, put documents in envelopes, post envelopes. I'm getting out my phone to call my secretary to tell her its mission accomplished - its 5:20, I'm headed for the wine bar, I am a Golden God - and just as I'm pulling it out it rings, it's my secretary. Apparently big boss lady has called and wants me to bring the documents back to the office so the other lawyer who's been working on the transaction can check them. Poop. But fair enough since the deal was worth £3.2billion, or something equally as ridiculous, and we don't want any printing errors now do we? So I go back to the printers, get three more copies of each and head back to the office.

I get back to the office and hand over the documents to be checked. It soon transpires that the lawyer isn't going to read through the documents and that what actually had to be checked was that the right pieces of paper had gone in the right envelopes!!! That's right, she doubts my ability to put paper in an envelope to such an extent that I require supervision. So I was 45mins late for drinks and safe in the knowledge that my boss thinks I have the mind of a three year old. STUPID BITCHY.

So I meet Lexi for drinks in Daley's wine bar by the Royal Courts of Justice and end up going for dinner with her, her boyf, Aimone and Caroline. We went to Gaucho which is this chain of upscale Argentinian (who'd a thunk it) steak restaurants - its a chain in the same way that Louis Vuitton is a chain, there's lots of them but they're still nice. I've always wanted to go as a friend of mine is OBSESSED and this seemed like as good a time as any to check it out (I was drunk and angry). We had seafood cerviche and empanadas to start and for main I had the fanciest steak they do cooked rare. First time I've had beef in MONTHS and what a way to remember how good it is! I normally get my steak done medium but, having shared hibachi with a friend of mine who ordered the steak rare, I've realised its the best way to go. All the food was outstanding, including the popcorn on the bar and these little balls of freshly baked cheesy bread pre-meal. Yum, yum, yum. Service was also great. Will I be going back? Hell no. Bill was £60 each, I could eat off that for a month. How to celebrate spending so much on dinner? By buying a cigar of course. If you thought having to stand outside to smoke a cigarette after a meal sucked then you should try it with a cigar.

Moment of sadness

For the last week or so the guardian of the automatic door that leads into our office building (receptionist? Porter? Concierge?) has been away on holiday. His replacement was this really smiley and nice black guy, probably not that much older than me. Every morning he'd have a big grin and say 'morning sir' and I'd be all 'Dude, what's with the 'sir', man. I'll think you're talking to my father, call me Bill'. Not really, I of course said 'How DARE you talk to me, stop making eye contact this INSANT' and swish into the lift. Not really, I'd say 'Morning'.

Unfortunately today sees the return of the guy who normally does the job: a pot-bellied 50 year old Scottish guy with one eye who smells of booze and yells at me every morning. He also imitates my public school accent. I miss you replacement nice guy.

Buffalowilliam science research presents

In a joint research project with the University of North Dakota (they did the research, I read about it) I'm proud to announce:

Coffee may cut the risk of dementia by blocking the damage cholesterol can inflict on the body. The drink has already been linked to a lower risk of Alzheimer's Disease.

Since I am PARANOID about getting Alzheimer's this has given my Thursday morning quite the boost. Plus: The official body which advises the government on drugs policy has decided cannabis should remain a class C drug. Happy Thursday!

Beef Rengdang

Made it last night and put too much Tamarind in (recipe? PAH!) and it tasted gross. Didn't taste anything like the curry I remember (vaguely) from Brunei but then again Brussel Sprouts, Broccoli and Tofu are not Beef. I don't know why I always think I should mix it up a bit with my diet, I think I'm boring and stuck in a rut but really its more that I have a handle on exactly what I like to eat so why change?

These modern times

From the Evening Standard:

"A senior BNP [British National Party, racists basically] leader with a strong chance of winning a seat in the London Assembly [something to do with the mayor, not sure what] next month has written that rape is a "myth" and that "some women are like gongs - they need to be struck regularly."

I know TECHNICALLY this isn't funny and I should be horrified as this man will be serving in a body in which I am in some way represented, but I still giggled like crazy when I read it. Its 2008 for crying out loud! [Just like to point out that I orginally posted this with 'Its 2007 for crying out loud' hmmm]

UPDATE: He got fired today!

Haute Couture

We had end of month drinks in the office last week and due to the liberating effects of alcohol on co-workers tongues one of them told me that the head partner had said to her: 'I think everyone has been a bit scruffy this week, almost like its been dress down Friday everyday, normally everybody looks very presentable ... apart from Buffalo William of course but there's NOTHING I can do about that'! I would be shocked and offended but quite frankly she's right. What she doesn't know though is how far I've come - I no longer wear pajamas outside of the house (and I don't mean sweatpants I wear in bed, I mean pajamas), I no longer think 'who needs trousers I'm only going round the corner', I own trousers other than sweats (2 pairs!), I now know a dressing gown is not an overcoat - having said that all my clothes are still full of holes and covered in bleach stains and I break out in a rash if I come within 10 feet of an iron but SO WHAT! Baby steps.

Anywho in an effort to impress my boss and get her to give me a training contract I decided to dress up today, UP! So I trimmed my beard with clippers, I shaved the straggly hair on my neck (first time I shaved in ... two weeks?), I washed my face AND moisturised, I wore my favourite shirt (unironed and from a charity shop, but is nice and freshly washed), I used my cuff links rather than rolling the sleeves of my shirt up, I washed my jumper (hole in the armpit), I brushed my hair(with flatmate's cellulite brush, but its still a brush), put on my suit which I hung on a hanger the night before and put on my trainers (nobody's perfect and I am still in recovery from knee surgery). I was only 8 minutes late for work as well. Guess who's out of the office all day? STUPID WOMAN! All dressed up and nowhere to go (except for drinks later.

NB although I refer to my boss as 'stupid woman' in this post its bourne out of pure frustration because I actually love her. I lost about 11lbs in January and was telling a fellow drone that as a result I'd started having to tighten my belt an extra notch, boss-lady overheard this and went 'Hmmmm I thought you were looking a bit uncomfortable' HAHA! She funny.

NBB If you're thinking 'still seems very scruffy to me' then its worth noting that on Monday I wore a shirt to work that was formerly white but dyed myriad shades of pink in the wash by my landlady's jumper, went clubbing after work in it, slept in it and my suit and then wore the whole outfit to work the day after (I did at least shower in between). So today i'm basically Babe Paley.

Today, random

1. Turns out beef rengdang (note new and correct spelling) is basically the same as the curry I make everday with the addition of cardamom, tamarind, lime, cinnamon and tumeric (and dessicated coconut flakes, in coconut milk? I'm trying to make curry not a dessert) so I'll give that a go tonight

2. The only thing I had to do at work today was print out a bill I wrote yesterday and give it to my secretary to work her magic on. It's 4:45 and I have failed to do this. That could explain the number of posts

3. I hope my boss never reads this

4. Although I hate ballet I do like beautiful Cuban guys in a mini ... mini ... mini what? I hate to say skirt but is there such a thing as a mini-tunic? So I should go see that Carlos Acosta show

5. I hate Amalah (of http://www.amalah.com/) because she's funnier than me and people read her blog and write comments and we all know comments are little drops of paradise.

6. After I kissed the Brazilian guy last night I said 'It was really nice to meet you'. I meant this in a 'its nice to meet a hot brazilian man who wants to make out with you within the first five minutes of your aquaintance' kind of way. He took it as his cue to leave. I'll have to believe he thought I was dismissing him or the only other explanation is that I'm a terrible kisser. Stupid alcohol I don't know which is true.

7. I haven't seen Saint Tigerlily for months (years?) and I'm very grown up and patient about the situation. Now she's coming in four days and I'm all 'FOUR DAYS? But I want it now!' You can imagine for yourself me stamping my foot in frustration, my knee dislocating as a result and my head slamming into my desk as I reach down to grab it.

8. Why do I tell people I like the Opera when I haven't been in 15 years? I don't like Friends and I've seen that twice this week

9. Despite going to bed at 3:30 and getting up at 7:30 I haven't yawned once and nor do I feel remotely tired. Maybe I'll be like that character in this Dean Koontz book I read (it was just the one time and it was basically an accident, I was drunk at the time, I don't normal do that type of thing) who gets a massage from an alien and never needs to sleep again.

10. I should start cycling into work again. The terrible weather and a constant string of hangovers meant that its been public transport for me for about two weeks now and soon I'll be in the prescence of the trainer-honed perfection of a Saint.

Unnnnnnnnh

So unwell, went out last night for Richard's birthday. Went to a bar and then to G-A-Y to watch Porn Idol, which is a night where they get a bunch of young guys, get them wasted, drag them up on stage, they strip to music and then this panel of bitchy homos calls them fat/ugly/insecure. Stupid, evil gays. Anywho I watched the first couple of guys get humiliated and then went out to smoke for the rest of it, which is a shame cause apparently the guy who won was basically an Abercrombie and Fitch model - hot, hot, hot. On the plus side I made out with a hot Brazilian guy called Diego, who is the first person I ever kissed in a club! The whole time I was thinking 'I'm going to get Hep C, I'm going to get Hep C, I'm going to get Hep C'. Who says romance is dead?

Clubbing on Monday is a great start to the week: makes you realise there a whole world of possibilities in the evenings after work and you should get out there and make the most of them. However, throwing up in the sink at work makes you realise you're much better off under a blanket, on your sofa, watching Beauty and the Beast with a cup of hot Ribena. I can't even begin to describe how many typos, syntax/grammatical errors I just had to correct in this post, should probably avoid doing any work today. Had the Corporate team meeting first thing and I was sitting there trying to look like I'd had more than 3 hours sleep and had put food into my body, rather than out, thinking 'must not die, must not die, must not die, must not die' and the lawyer sitting next to me suddenly went 'Oooh is that a stamp on your hand? Were you out clubbing last night? Where did you go?'. All eyes turn to me and I'm thinking 'this is not how I thought I would come out to the office'. So I didn't. I denied I'd been out and hid my hand under my pad for the rest of the meeting and now stupid ink won't wash off.

Charmita!

Had a lovely and charming weekend. Went for dinner a la Amy France on Friday night. She cooked a veritable banquet; Chilli fried squid and chicken satay to start, malaysian curry, noodle salad and rice for main and some frozen dessert who's name escapes me but it had saffron in. It was all so delicious, especially the noodle salad. Rice noodles, scallions, chilli etc etc good sauce ... I'll have to get the recipe. Made me think I should be a bit more adventurous in my asian cooking. I eat asian food every single day but its always exactly the same, why not mix it up a bit? Beef Rengdeng in Brunei was my first ever curry addiction and I should celebrate that I think rather than eating Thai curry everyday ... although obviously now it would be tofu rengdeng. Mmmmmm. After much drinking/shouting/dancing and general merriment (a particular highlight being Henry showing everyone the stiches on his newly circumcised penis, thanks for that) I got a cab round the Brick Lane flat at about 3am and passed out there.

Spent Saturday watching movies (Michael Clayton, good, There Will Be Blood, over my head) and drinking white russians. Party for Brittany's birthday in the evening. Was quite the decadent scene that I'm sure you can imagine for yourself, close, but now with more Smirnoff Ice, now you've got. Ended up getting really rather drunk, collapsed around 5am and then threw up til 3pm Sunday (thats the charming part of the weekend I was referring to earlier). Managed to eat Subway without throwing up at some point in mid afternoon (Wholemeal bread, veggie patty, toasted, cheese, all the salad, no green peppers, no jalapeno, mustard/mayo AMAZING) and that was pretty much the extent of my activites as the clocks went forward an hour and I nearly died. Its days like Sunday that remind me why I gave up drinking for so long.

On a more sombre note, Lizzie rented Big Business, I was so excited about seeing it, then the DVD wouldn't work. Terrible.

Here's a picture of Nancy Reagan. Just because.

She's the Posh Spice of politics.

UPDATE: Amy's dessert was a saffron and orange water semi-fredo. Fancy.

Sa Sa Sushi

Went for dinner last night in Angel with my brother. Went to Sa Sa Sushi on recommendation of Amy France, thank God for it as well because I was really in the mood for sushi and the only place I knew in Angel was Yo!Sushi and everything there tastes the same. I had chef's choice sushi selection, which basically meant a slice of every variety of fish on the planet. Was good, not the best I've ever had but a million miles from being the worst. Just good, quality sushi - which is an achievement in and of itself in this country. Really nice service, after we paid our bill a new waiter asked us if we wanted another beer and was so nice about it for a split second I thought he knew we had already paid and was offering us a beer for free. Its nice up here on my planet. The toilets also smelled exactly like Japan, what's more authentic than that?

Afterwards we went to a bar in Angel and bumped into a bunch of my brother's friends. One of the girls is going to be on the next season of Shipwrecked (reality TV show, I would paste a link but when I try to access the site the browser window shuts so there's probably not a lot of point). Shipwrecked is really bad and all the people in it are really annoying, I watch it religiously and now I have a reason to commit to the new season. So be on the look out for Victoria, she's awesome. She showed me a picture of her boyfriend and he's just about the fittest 'real' person I've ever seen. It was only a head shot, but my what a head. Apparently he's a personal trainer so the rest of him isn't exactly ugly either. Unfortunately he's in Dubai at the moment doing some personal trainer thing, can't wait til he gets back and I can stare endlessly at him and then try and steal him away when I'm drunk. YAY!

I know writing about someone you've just met's boyfriend who you've never met is weird, but the title of this blog didn't happen by accident and he is SO fit. I'm constantly having to resist the urge to tell everyone in the office about it, although everybody already thinks I'm crazy so I may as well just go for it.

UPDATE: I've just remembered why I was so obsessed with last years Shipwrecked, it was all down to the lovely Stuart:

So hot and absolutely no discernable personality whatsoever. I shudder to think about the hours (and I mean HOURS, they were on their islands for FIVE MONTHS) of moronic television I forced my flatmates to endure just so I could catch an occasional glimpse of him - he wasn't in it very much cause he was so boring. Luckily for you I can demonstrate just how boring by the simple act of copying and pasting a Q&A he did:

Q: What attracted you to spend five months on a desert island?
A: The chance to meet some wicked awesome people.

Q: What do you think you will achieve by doing it?
A: I hope to make some awesome friends and work out what I want to do with my life.

Q:What did you think about having to spend so long away from home with complete strangers?
A: I saw it as a wicked opportunity to meet some cool people.

Hmmmmm. I really need to develop better taste in men.

Grrraaarrrrggghhhhhhhhhhh!

Just trying to book a flight to NY online (thats right, I'm actually doing it) and filled in about 600 forms on Opodo only to be blocked from the site as my IT department coniders it to be 'dangerous'. Never mind, I thought, I'll just book straight through the Air France website (AF! how exciting ... 'what's in there?' 'ca c'est la poubelle madame' 'yep, we'll have two of those') and got through to step 678/679 or something only to find that as part of that step I had to enter my passport number. WHY! No terrorist in the world is going to be defeated by an on-line booking system, just poor saps like me who don't need their passport to travel to work everyday. The illusion of safety.

If I actually get to book this it'll be the second flight I've booked in a week. It's like Ratzinger volunteering to officiate at two gay weddings in a week. Planes, evil. Actually planes are awesome, its the flying in them that sucks. Or rather, I guess, the horribly random way in which they crash. Although, having said random, have you ever noticed that planes always seem to come down in threes? Hasn't been one for a while, I'm willing to bet that next time one comes down (PLEASE not end of July/beginning of June) a couple more will swiftly follow.

Mana from the Maldives

My friend Deborah just quit her job and went for a two week detox and relaxation break in the Maldives. She came back slim and tan. Luckily she also brought me presents so I don't have to spend the rest of the week hating her. She brought me fisherman's trousers for me to do yoga in and this dried fruit that you boil and leave to cool and then drink the liquid. Meant to be detoxing and very beneficial. Had it this morning and it was really tasty - very fragrant and tasted of tropical fruits and coconut. It would help if I could put the name but its not avaliable over here and even the mighty google is stumped.

So nice getting gifts from people who've been on holiday, means they were thinking about you while sunning themselves. Great gifts too, I have something of an obsession with trying things I've never consumed before. Its not very often you come across a plant/vegetable that you have absolutely no experience of eating so I get a little frisson of pleasure every time I do. What's a better gift than that?

UPDATE: Called Debs, the fruit is Matoom(?!)