i'm free!

isn't it crazy how far you have to book your friends these days? i've just been chatting to a mate about going round to his house for supper in six and a half weeks' time. it was the earliest we could coordinate work / personal diaries and the diaries of our nearest and dearests. honestly, anyone would think we were trying to plan an interview with madonna.
speaknig of celebrities. at this point i'd like to tell you a story about a friend who used to be an events organiser, but i've recently been on a libel case so i'm a bit nervous. here's an abbreviated version. one of my mate's jobs was to book 'names' to open conferences, fairs etc and to give speeches. for one of his events he was in touch with the agent of a well known tv star who was a bit on her uppers. each day, as the event drew nearer, the actress's agent would call my mate saying 'XXXXXX is still free that day'. my friend eventually told the agent that they'd decided to go with someone else. but the agent wouldn't take no for an answer and kept calling saying 'if your person falls through XXXXXX is still available'. the last time the agent called he said 'XXXXXX will do your event for £50 and doesn't mind how she travels.'!
obviously, that story would be hilarious if i could tell you who it was – she's on tv all the time now.

wakey wakey

i've just had an email from a company that manufactures a 'take anywhere shower holder-upper'. whatever that may be!
it reminded me of a brainwave i had in bed on saturday morning.
now, i love my bedroom. it's a pared-down vision of manly interior loveliness. white floorboards (which i've wanted since i was 12 and got my first LP by The Tourists, which featured and all white room with stripped boards), a masculine looking bed (stripy bedding always), minimal clutter and gorgeous built in wardrobes (of course they are bespoke!).
but my white roller blind is terribly ineffective.
i have to have a blind down at all times as i am at street level and don't relish the prospect of being looked at by the local urchins/oiks/dogs on string but don't want black out blinds as the filtered light effect is quite nice, and i don't want to feel like i live in a bunker.
that 'flitered' light effect can be a little grating, however, at 6am on a saturday morning when i'd really like an extra hour sleep. but of course i can't, as once i wake up and it's light, i'm awake.
so, saturday morning i'm laying in bed cursing the fact that it's bright and i'm awake and if i had one of those horrid eye masks i'd probably put it on even though they are really uncomfortable, when my brainwave struck.
BLACK OUT EYESHADOW
i'm applying to Dragon's Den as you read this!

oh for goodness sake EXCLAMATION MARK

once again the blog police are telling me
that i can't use exclamation marks EXCLAMATION MARK

mr angry

i often go running on the Heath at the weekend (aren't i virtuous).
on a Sunday morning, without fail, i see the same wino guy sitting on the bench outside the church near Parliament Hill.
i see him so often that we now say hello to each other.
last Sunday, when i saw him, mid can of white lightening, it occured to me that the only difference between me and him was a job and a fancy glass.
it was a sobering thought. at least for one of us.
i cannot tell you how stroppy i was when i woke up this morning.
actually i was stroppy at 4am when i had to get up and go to the loo (as i do without fail every night now. don't get me started.) i knew, when i went back to bed that all was not well on planet Short - i was feeling angsty and my hangover was kicking already in (see above).
i then had a weird dream about a baby leopard eating my sister's cat (with whom i share a home). i had to prise the big cat's mouth open and retrieve the kitty.
then my mum and i were looking at a pond filled with frogs and snakes. i don't know what it all means but i do know that when i woke up i felt like someone had screwed my face on too tightly and completely irritated at the world.
the feeling has got worse as the day, with its inevitable trials and tribulations, has worn on.
i'm so stroppy/furious (lovely combo) that i can't help but think that the only difference between me and a homicidal maniac is a sawn off shotgun and a samurai sword...

weird but true

there's been another massacre at a US college. 33 gunned down by some bitter and angry geezer. on TV today there was a huge bowtie with a man behind it. the man was part of the pro-firearms lobby.
without a trace of irony, the man stood up for everyone's right to own fire arms in the name of self defence. if, he reasoned, one of the students at the college had had a gun they could have shot the guy doing all the killing, thus saving numerous lives!
is it just me or is that slightly twisted logic?
on a more positive note, the sun is shining, i am in love. little fluffy birds are flying overhead trilling, and lambs are gambolling in the fields.
did i tell you about how i was in the gym the other day, watching a kids programme about sheep and i suddenly thought how funny it would be to have a disco full of sheep? well, yesterday i was at the zoo (don't ask) and this hideous little brat threw a sweet paper into the otter enclosure. the otters all went bonkers, trying to grab the wrapper off each other. i thought it would be hilarious if they all came running over and flung the wrapper back in the brat's face.
if only...

calorie counting

i feel like i'm in a film called 'supersize me, i'm brigit jones'!
my diary today (since lunch) would read:
bottles of chardonnay: 1 and a half
lardy starter (fried whitebait, since you ask): 1
full on burger and chips: 1 (and i ate all the chips)
gorgonzola and pear crumble: 1
slice of birthday cake i didn't even want: 1
glasses of wine with birthday cake that i also didn't want: 2
hours of belly ache: 3
hours of belly hanging over jeans a la muffin top: 12 (since i woke up)
it's got to stop.
well, at least i haven't got hobbit feet

here comes the sun

day 3 of decent weather (ie no rain, trains not skidding off their rails due to someone mentioning the word snow, and temperatures in double figures) and the hobbits are already out in force.
what is it about men (especially those of the gay variety), sunshine and flipflops?
the sun shines for a couple of nano seconds and they are out in force, like they've suddenly been transported to an Ibizan paradise.
they flipflop their way around town like pedicures had never been invented.
now, my feet aren't the prettiest of appendages but at least i cut my toenails regularly and buff what hard bits i can and i never wear sandals.
the hobbits, on the other hand, wear their corns, dirty toe nails and wannabe bunyons with apparent pride.
the trotter/hoof look has so got to stop!

i don't believe it...

i am no longer allowed exclamation marks in my blog!

be bap alula

i'm having one of those 'don't open that email' days: you know, when every email you read requires you to add about three things to your already ridiculously long to do list. rather worryingly I've started doing my lists in contrasting colours. as if that's going to make the dozens of things i must remember not to forget to do any easier. there's no colour code to it, you'll be delighted to know (red - do it now or your eyes will fall out, blue - delegate it to someone once it's been on your list for too long, green - I'm fucked if I'm going to do that, even if it is in my job description) just one blue, one red to separate the different chores.
i went and picked up a sarnie for lunch. actually it was a bap (one of my favourite words). tuna with onion and parsley and 'PICKLE?' as the guy shouted at me when i asked him to bring out the Branston. while i was in the cafe (where they are always so brusque i ask myself why i give them my custom every time i go, see PICKLE) the bloke in front of me did something that i find intensely irritating. he pronounced every letter in the word ciabatta. and he pronounced the c like an s!
it's things like that that trigger high-school masacres and people throwing photocopiers out of the window!

no smoke without fire

we just had a fire drill at work.
as usual there was a lot of tutting, sighing and eye rolling. oh, and plenty of 'i'll just be a minute. just got to send this email/make this phone call/die of smoke inhallation/frazzle to a crisp' posturing. fortunately i am no longer fire officer so it is not my responsibility to chivvy people out of the office, wear a ridiculous yellow armband or wave a huge number 3 around while making sure all members of staff were accounted for (even the ones i'd happily see charred to a crisp).
it was actually quite nice to get out of the office for an afternoon breather. it reminded me of my years as a (heavy) smoker when my days would be nicely punctuated by a need for nicotine, meaning i'd get to leave my desk from time to time.
it's amazing how much 'stuff' you pick up when you're a smoker. and i'm not just talking TB and lung cancer (or smelly clothes and yellow fingers). all that 'water cooler' stuff about who's doing what or who and why so and so isn't here anymore.
and on the subject of smoking - i used to make a point of getting on the smokers' carriage on the tube. i find it hard to believe i used to actively choose to sit in a confined space with dozens of other puffers and smoke my way through the 31 minute journey from Northolt (or Northflop as someone hilariously named it) and Oxford Circus. how times have changed....