so sleepy..

I am absolutely exhausted. My head is full of Gantt charts, numbers from lists of invoices and PO’s. I’ve finished day three of my first week and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I am really rather happy.

It is typical that I start my new job in the week that we are getting out and doing the majority of our festival stuff. After a lovely weekend up in Leeds visiting Julie & Jonny (with a lovely day at the Forbidden Corner followed by the best ice-cream I’ve had in a long time), we spent Monday evening in the Udderbelly watching the Caesar Twins. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, having been told various things about half naked men in baths (poor Tom didn’t look impressed!) but the acrobatics were really rather fab – if a little painful looking.

Yesterday we headed out to James’ Telling Lies night, where I giggled about Bill and the mice with placards, and laughed until tears streamed down my face to the wonderful “pig heart boy” song. I will do my best to make it to the “Poetry in a Brothel” readings, firstly it sounds like great fun and secondly because it’s the first time I’ve had a chance to visit a “massage parlour” – not that I’ve ever really felt the urge to before, but you need to try these things I guess.

This evening though I have a night off, I’ve ordered pizza, I’ve blearily eyed a DVD for the evening and I plan on closing the laptop, ignoring the phone and curling up on the sofa with my bears. I wonder how long I’ll last before my eyelids give up on me and the snoring starts? (Not that I really snore, you understand. No, never. Well, maybe after a couple of beers.. )

an exciting update

What a week! Things have been remarkably like a roller coaster for the last couple of days, but it’s Friday and I think I finally have a clear enough head and a couple of minutes to tell you all about it.

On Monday night, still recovering from a rather heavy weekend courtesy of the MacKriell’s, six of us headed out to the Jooglebury for a Catalyst Club special. Ken Campbell regaled us with highly amusing tales of the Liverpool Science Fiction Theatre, how buying a parrot is only slightly more expensive than a computer and the joys of decorating dog poo (I kid you not!) It was really very funny, if a little weird, and cheered me up good and proper.

The lovely Mr Glasnost came around for dinner on Wednesday, complete with two bottles of red and in perfect timing to coincide with a fantastic job offer. Drink I did, and was merry (if somewhat distracted and liable to shout “woohoo” at inopportune moments). So yesterday I dashed about, handing in my resignation letter, trying to explain my new job to numerous people and being stopped in car parks, corridors and toilets and asked, “what are we going to do without you?”

What will I be doing now, you ask? Well on the 14th May I start as Studio Manager/Project Assistant at Clearleft. I am a combination of very excited and a just a little bit scared. I’ve been at the University for over five years now, so working somewhere else is a bit of a daunting prospect. But it is my ideal job, with a bunch of great guys and in the industry I want to work in – what could be better?

And now I shall go back to grinning happily at people and occasionally shouting “woot!” Me? Chipper? Good Lord yes!

bargaining

On Wednesday evening Tom & I headed out to the theatre to see The Bargain, a new play by Ian Curteis based on the imagined conversations (i.e. blackmail) that took place between Robert Maxwell and Mother Teresa when she visited London way back in 1988. I’m not really sure what to say about the play, the jokes were fairly obvious, a lot more could have been done with the characters (Maxwell was the typical tyrannical capitalist). Mother Teresa was slightly more interesting, and came off as a cool, hard businesswoman rather than meek and angelic.

It’s not so much that I didn’t like the play (I only gave it a 4), but I’d decided to wear my pointy shoes and they were a little distracting. I mean you do need to make a bit of an effort to look good when you go to the theatre. At least, that what I’ve always been told. So to make up for the fact that I was wearing jeans (I had a minor crisis trying on a number of skirts and failing miserably to like any), pointy heels and a pashmina were my saving graces. Unfortunately my little toes didn’t really agree. They got somewhat squished. And the pashmina? Well apparently that’s just a scarf!

So last night, when all the girls bundled onto the sofa, wine or jasmine tea in hand, it was a great relief to be in a big cozy jumper and slippers. Me, style? But of course! I have a style all of my very own.

valentines

At just after seven we loaded the car and headed out, headlights popped up, along the A27. Over the Kingston roundabout and on, past Beddingham, Selmeston and down the winding lanes to Alfriston, shrouded in darkness bar the occasional lit window.

Our hotel lay behind a long and smooth lawn, lit up to guide us in. We parked the car, dropped off our bags and walked the short distance along the pavement to The George. It is a beautiful pub, oak beams bringing the ceiling down low, a roaring open fire and leather sofas making up the quiet snug. We supped on delicious local ham, roasted garlic, warmed balsamic vinegar and home made bread. Then fillet steak on half a toasted muffin with home made béarnaise sauce, thick cut chips with a sprinkling of salt. Finally there was chocolate ice cream for my boy and an enormous board of cheese for me, crackers sloping off the sides and thick creamery butter. We drank red wine and talked low in the candlelight.

The phone never rang, there was no car in sight and walking back through the night we marvelled at the brightness of the stars. And how delicious to wake up to bird song and out of the window the river, winding back and forth across the fields, trees bare of leaves and not a sound of traffic or people to be heard. Perfect.

a return

Dear Readers, I do apologise for my recent lack of posting. Life recently has been somewhat busy, on those occasions when I have found myself with a brief period of peace my brain has only come up with utter nonsense. “Oh yes,” it will say, “ice over the road and breed slightly lop-sided penguins. Then we can indeed invade France and steal all their cheese!” Not, perhaps, the most helpful of ideas, but I admit to being somewhat fond of French cheeses.

I have, however, finally got the sitting room painted. It is now a delicious pale greeny/blue, which brightens up the whole room. I have found myself picking up the rolls of wallpaper and holding them against this glorious colour, smiling gleefully. I’m crossing my fingers that it won’t be too long until this final bit is done and can then move onto the bedroom and that beautiful golden Chinese dragon print.


Last Wednesday I had a lovely visit from Katharine and Lyndsey. We spent an evening drinking wine, trying on my fabulous new corset and gossiping in true girly fashion. With the flat beginning to look more like a home and less like a storage facility, more visits from friends are in order. This evening Joh is popping over, and tomorrow James. At last, visitors!

My brother is having a very exciting day today, he has completed on his own house along the coast in Eastbourne and is now, I hope, settling down to the traditional fish and chips amongst his own set of boxes, hunting frantically for a fork and a bottle opener. I shall have to pop over and visit soon, though I suspect allowing him a week or two of settling in would be appreciated.

So far, I admit, I haven’t hinted at much busyness. But in between the painting and the visits from friends I have been to birthdays, sat in pubs drinking beer and getting excited about Burning Man. I’ve cooked rösti for my boy with delicious bratwurst brought back from Switzerland. I’ve drunk cocktails with Jane and found a new gym, eaten Japanese takeaway with Pete, had dinner with friends and driven out to the country. It has been a lovely few weeks, but I do feel guilty for not posting for so long. I do promise to do better, dear reader, and not neglect you for so long again.

evening in

Although it’s the Brighton Bloggers Meet Up this evening, I’m feeling achy and cold, my nose is running and I feel generally rather sorry for myself. I don’t want to be ill, I hate colds, and so in an effort to stop any further germination I’ve decided on an evening in, with a cup of lapsang souchong, the furry cushions and Zack to keep me company.

I’ve also decided that the best way to fill my evening is surround myself with candles and dig into The Shadow of the North, one of a collection of new books that arrived from Amazon yesterday. Yes, I know I said I couldn’t buy any more books until I’d got the shelves sorted, and I know that I haven’t done that yet and am still deciding on paint colours, but I forgot! I was swept away in the moment. Books, I said to myself, I must have those books. And so I bought all of the Sally Lockhart series and I don’t feel sorry at all.

I’m trying to resist the lure of take away, instead leaning towards the lure of hot soup and eggy-bread. When I have a cold, well when I can still breath and have a cold, I find it increasingly difficult not to just shovel food down my face. After a weekend of doing much the same, although without the excuse, I can’t really justify phoning Murasaki Bento… or can I? I am feeling a little under the weather after all, what better time to dig into gyoza and chicken katsu? I must be strong. More tea, I think, and the next chapter. That’s bound to help.

chilled for a while

At last there was a quiet weekend. After a Friday afternoon with a major crisis at work, it was entirely necessary that I spent the evening curled up with the cats and a good round of murder mysteries, nursing a gin and tonic and recovering from my grr-y-ness.

Saturday dawned with glorious sunshine, in January! What joy! It was made better by a lovely, if brief, jaunt into the countryside, lunch at the Open House and a deliciously decadent afternoon nap. Saucy was in store for supper and discussions on beliefs and evolution. Then I have to admit, I gave in and despite many protestations over the months, watch Napoleon Dynamite. I’m still not sure I like it; although there were some beautiful bits, mostly I just found it teeth-wrenchingly painful to watch.

On Sunday we had a lovely time having lunch with James at the Chimney, and ate roast chicken (as you can see, I spent a lot of time eating this weekend, but of course it is one of my favourite things) whilst catching up. We wandered around town, snoozed on the sofa and generally spend the day doing exactly what you should on a Sunday – nothing.

But today is full of excitement because today I booked my holiday and bought the tickets for Burning Man! We’re going to the desert!

five things

Having been tagged by Joh, and having spent quite a lot of time trying to find one interesting thing about myself, I’ve finally made it to five:

1. I’m still afraid of the dark. So much so that after a nightmare I may find it impossible to sleep without the light on. This happens less often these days, but I do still find myself compulsively checking behind me if I’m walking along in the dark.

2. I can’t swim. In fact I’m quite terrified of water. At school, at the tender age of around six, I went swimming. Unfortunately the shallow end was full so we had to wait in the deep end. I sank, and sank and began to get terrified that I’d never see the surface again. I grabbed hold of my PE teachers arm and, having seen the sheer terror on my face, he took me to the side of the pool and left me to shiver. Since then, swimming and I have not got on.

3. I worry that I have no dress-sense at all. I look at other people and, no matter how much attention I paid when getting dressed, I feel that somewhere along the line it’s gone a little awry and I’ve been left with no actual sense of style at all. This is why I wear jeans so often. They’re safe.

4. I love imagining that I live somewhere different, like in a cave, or underground. I’d love to live in a windmill, or water mill. I used to be fascinated by the cave in the Famous Five books and would spend hours imagining that I lived in something similar.

5. I cry far too easily. In fact I’ve been known to cry at mobile phone adverts (the ones for the Carphone Warehouse when the poor blighters get left behind). I’ve become quite good at hiding it, especially in cinemas, otherwise everyone would think me far too girly and emotional!

** As per Joh's instructions, I'm tagging: Ed, Glasnost, Kerry, Jeff, Aims. However, I don't think any of them (other than Ed) read this blog! **

insecticide

So it’s finished - three days back at work after ten off and the only really difficult part has been wrestling with bizarre sleeping patterns. Why is it that I can’t fall asleep before 2am? And why all the weirdly vivid dreams? I don’t need insects in my dreams! The world would be much nicer without handbags filled with enormous woodlice!

I’m hoping that the weekend brings the breaking of this week long problem, with an evening at the Krater Comedy Club tonight. I haven’t been for far too long, having had a lovely spate of visits a while back. For very convoluted reasons, whenever I see MC Stephen Grant now I will be picturing Johnnie Vegas, but I’m sure I’ll get over this minor affliction soon enough. A good giggle is just what I need before term starts on Monday.

I need to pick up the wallpaper tomorrow, which means that yes: the plaster is finally dried. The damp proofing is finished and the decorating can start. Which coincides wonderfully with the start of my chief helpers yearly holiday on the slopes. Just my luck!

I also need to find a lion tamer costume for tomorrow night. As usual, photos will be posted so you’ll find out more in due course, but I expect the usual messiness.

out with the old, in with the new

New Years Eve was a fitting end to what has been a year of many changes and wondrous beginnings. We started out at Giles’, where we drank red wine and caught up with old friends. We then headed over to Dan’s for midnight, guzzling bubbly and playing games. We sat about discussing what 2006 had meant for us, and what our plans were for 2007.

For me, 2006 started off quietly. The first few months of the year were a little frustrating, with me very stuck in an old rut. James helped me out of this, taking me along to story-telling events and introducing me to new people for which I will be forever grateful to him.

Also due to James, I headed out to a May Day festival on the last day in April which led to one of those afternoons that you know will change your life. One date, and seven months later, and I can confirm that it certainly has! The last seven months have been filled with fireworks, and in the words of a very wise man “it is just the beginning”.





In September I left my home for the past eight years, having a brief sojourn at Rosehill moving in to my very own flat. It was a time of great stress but picking up they keys that wet October morning more than made up for it all. With the plaster nearly dry after the damp proofing, I’m looking forward to picking up the wallpaper at the weekend and beginning the decorating. Soon it will be looking more like home, and I will finally be able to get rid of the multitude of boxes. I love my home, and am really looking forward to having more of my friends to visit in the near future.


I have shared some fantastic times with friends, although both my best friends have had a difficult year. Katharine has had to deal with the knowledge that Sam, my Godson, is autistic. She has coped so well, and I am enormously proud of her for remaining optimistic in the face of such adversity and being such a fantastic mother. Lyndsey has been diagnosed as suffering from CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, or ME in old currency), which I know has been incredibly frustrating for her. However yet again, she is coping remarkably well and not letting it get the better of her. Even the little improvements that she makes are huge milestones, and I am thrilled that she is starting to manage her illness more effectively.

I have also decided to change careers, something I have been pursuing recently and will continue to do so into the new year. I’m looking forward to making the break, although the thought is a little daunting.

2007 is going to be a marvellous year, I feel so excited about it. But 2006 was amazing – and I will always remember it for being splendid in so many ways.

of broken plates and scottish accents

Today I am glum, miserable and achingly gloomy. I feel heavy with weight, from the piles of work that surround me to the knowledge that I have to empty the dishwasher, a task which today seems insurmountable. I long for my duvet, to curl up, close my itchy eyes and let sleep wash over me. I long to nestle on my soft brown leather sofas, which of course have not yet arrived, thick socks pulled on and blankets on my knees with a pot of Earl Grey and an Agatha Christie. I long to be sat by an open fire, watching the sparks light up the chimney breast like miniature fireworks, breathing in the wood smoke and listening to nothing but the crackle and pop of the sap.

All these things seem so far removed from the dullness of my desk. Another day spent before it, bleak and utilitarian and offering up nothing to nudge my imagination. The chair makes my back uncomfortable and hunched, the table is cluttered with piles of applications that I can’t store anywhere else. And to listen to me roll off this catalogue of complaints is only exacerbating the glumness.

To make matters worse, my lovely new John Lewis plates have just arrived, and three out of four have been smashed into pieces on their way here. Fortunately I spoke to a lovely man, with a delicious Scottish accent named Kenneth (although in my head he is definitely Hamish) and a replacement set are on their way.

Oh for four o’clock when I can return home and bury myself under blankets and duvets and shut out the day until I am recovered enough from this misery to venture forth, in my new skirt and boots, to Gars with my boy. For most of all, today I want my boy.