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.