Random memery

Ok, after this, I think I'll have it.


What were you doing 10 years ago?

Smoking, drinking, dancing, studying and defining. It was a heady mix of madness and sadness as I shuttled between university and hospital. A demanding time.


Five snacks I enjoy in a perfect, non-weight gaining world:
5-carb city...

Cheese

Crisps

Chocolate

Cashews

Croissants



Five snacks I enjoy in the real world:

Ummm... fewer of the above. Ahem. But certainly fewer croissants.


Five things I would do if I were a billionaire:

Buy Rhi her yacht AND her castle

Buy a country house in England, an apartment in NY; and a beachfront home somewhere breath-taking and as far away from civilisation as is feasible.

Work infrequently doign something socially rewarding.

Donate to various charities.

Buy an exceptional wardrobe and hire a personal trainer to help me fit into it.



Five jobs that I have had:

Chambermaid - my least favourite position and never being role-played

Waitress - my favourite job - before I got too tired

Bookseller - my least economical job

Shop assistant at a quintessential chocolateboxville shop - bring on the chintz

Editor of a publishing company - where I became infected with tankitis



Five habits:

Picking my forehead - my least favourite trait

Lists - everything seems more manageable with a list for it

Crackberry

Cleaning on a Sunday

Hair-twirling - particularly during intense thought



Five places I have lived:

NY

Oxford

Cheltenham

Broadway

London

Not terribly cosmopolitan, but thankfully there's still time.

Though it's now time to head to bed...

Bemusings

I can't decide whether I'm unsurprised, surprised, or bemused about some previous postings of mine being recredited to someone else. Either way, I'm not entirely sure it's good writing "etiquette"...
But what can you do? Encourage oneself to write more new stuff I think. Especially as it's thankfully far less high-profile!

(Gin. Premium. Stateside. Barefooted and bitten. A diluted TG of late, it's true...)

All I got is my forty

Once again I bow to the wonder of memes to get me back on the road to bloggery. Seeing as I've been struggling to find my way out of the mental work bubble of late, I thought this was a perfect way to clear a path out of the whirlwind of circling fog.

So, to the meme...

The rules are simple: one word answers to 40 questions.

Where is your cell phone? Attic

Your significant other? Liberating

Your hair? Reassuring

Your mother? Barking

Your father? Missed

Your favourite time of day? 22:22

Your dream last night? Troubling

Your favourite drink? H2O

Your dream goal? Contentment

The room you’re in? Vibrant

Your ex? Damaging

Your fear? Death

Where do you want to be in six years? Secure

What are you not? Unrestrained

Your favourite meal? Indulgent

One of your wish list items? Maldives

The last thing you did? Refuel

Where you grew up? Chocolateboxville

What are you wearing? Comfort

Your TV is? Selective

Your pets? Surviving

Your computer? Cherished

Your life? Almost

Your mood? Diluted

Missing someone? Always

Your car? Salvation

Something you’re not wearing? shoes

Favourite store? AP

Your summer? Displaced

Your favourite colour? Oxblood

When is the last time you laughed? Daily

When is the last time you cried? Recently

Your health? Problematic

Your children? Uncertain

Your future? Indefinite

Your beliefs? Non-committal

Young or old? Young

Your image? Varied

Your appearance? Lapsed

Would you live your life over again knowing what you know? No

Friends Like These

Some friends come and go, and though it can hurt at the time, most times you manage, sometimes, harsh as it sounds, even wondering how on earth you had stayed friends in the first place when you added so little to each other.
And then there are those friends you know you would miss as much no matter how much time had passed, who are so important to you that you feel almost as if an actual part of you is missing when they aren't around.
My friend B was back in town just over a week ago, being back properly for the first time since she ran off to a Xmas tree farm with a Red Sox fan, I mean really ;-), and it hit me like a freight train quite how much I had missed the lady living here. I have missed B terribly since she left, and having her back home was a wonderful, wonderful thing.
I only hope that the next time, after the next time, fingers crossed, our schedules won't be quite so ridiculously unhelpful and we'll actually get to spend more than a blink of time together. Here's hoping.

(Wine. Italian. Decent. Pizza, huge. Of course. Shoes, fabulous. As always with B around.)

Teacher's Pet

Seeing as B always has to nag me about such things, I thought I'd be good and pre-empt. And because I'm at a loss for writing anything remotely interesting this week due to brain being mush.

What is your occupation?

The ridiculously long title of Director of Marketing and New Business. For a military history publisher. Hence TG.

What colour are your socks right now?

Black. Even though I'm in bed. It's cold, I forgot to put the heating back on and there's no poor bloke to warm them up on, damnit. I knew they were good for something.

What are you listening to right now?

The rain pelting down outside. Actually there's nothing like being in bed when it's raining outside. Oh and my unfeasibly loud boiler, because well you can't not.

What is the last thing you ate?

Far too much. Roasted peppers and then a stupidly large pizza (thankfully not all of it, I showed my thighs mercy) at good old Pizza Express with the lovely Joey.

Can you drive stick shift?

Of course. I even know what that means. It's proper driving and much more fun.

If you were a crayon, what colour would you be?

I'd be blue, so I could be the sea or the sky.

Last person you spoke to on the phone?

Joey. Bloody A34.

What’s your favourite yoga pose?

Stood up, leg curled behind me, over my head. Stretches everything out.

How old are you today?

About 55.

Favourite drinks?

G&T, champagne, bourbon, water, fresh OJ and Ribena until they took all the nice stuff out.

What is your favourite sport to watch?

Tennis, Gymnastics.

Have you ever dyed your hair?

Put it this way, I'm not entirely sure what my natural hair colour actually is.

Pets?

A cat, who has actually morphed into a small child. Or a cantankerous old man. Essentially the same thing. He is a lot of sevens.

Favourite cake?

Do Viennese Whirls count?

Last movie you saw?

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Quite simply one of the best films in existence. I dehydrated myself.

Favourite day of the year?

I have no idea. Maybe that day on holiday when you finally switch off and forget what day it actually is.

How do you vent anger?

Directly, forcibly and without compromise. Thankfully only ever verbally and not very often. Apart from that head-patting incident.

What was your favourite toy as a child?

A small white plush lamb, and a yellow teddy bear. I couldn't choose between them.

Autumn or spring?

Spring. The lambs back home are adorable, it's getting warmer, and people smile more. I also eat less! She says...

Hugs or kisses?

Hugs for the most part. I'm not one of those kiss everyone hello and goodbye people. Just someone.

Cherry or blueberry?

Blueberry.

Do you want your friends to respond?

I don't think anyone I know blogs apart from B so I'm not sure they can.

Who is most likely to respond?

See above.

Who is most likely not to respond?

See above.

Living arrangements?

An upside down two-floor flat which is a life-saving haven for me, and provides similar sanctuary for some close friends from time to time. It's well-loved.

Last time you cried?

Monday. Sometimes I miss Dad just a bit too much.

What is on the floor of your closet?

Shoes. Filled to the brim. It's a small closet. Ahem.

Who is the friend you’ve had the longest?

Jamie. We were 2. But he lives in Turkey now, and I rarely see him, so Anna, 6.

Favourite smell?

Bleach. I am Monica.

Who or what inspires you?

Memories. Creativity. Colleagues. Travel.

What are you afraid of?

Death. Failure. Poverty. Apathy.

Hamburgers?

Veggieburgers.

Favourite car?

Maserati Gran Turismo. Sexy as hell.

Number of keys on your key ring?

2. Main door, front door. Secure, but a pain when you're half dressed.

How many years at your current job?

4 months and I'm loving every minute.

Favourite day of the week?

Sunday. Lie-in. Potter. Clean. Papers. Bath. Sofa. Swim. DVD. Sleep. Sigh.

How many countries have you lived in?

Three. So far.

Dream job?

The one I do now, except in NY or Sydney.

The Joy of Mex

One of the things I missed most on my return from living in NYC (aside from the half-price shoes, affordable mani/pedi and Central Park of course - shallow, moi?!) was the absolute dearth of Mexican fare in my home town.
Being a vegetarian, Mexican food is one of life's greatest gifts. What other cuisine covers the vital veggie lifesavers of cheese, bread, salad, avocado, tomatoes, chips and chocolate and combines it all into one meal? What is there not to like? And don't even get me started on the magic that is a margarita...
Yet, for all its availability in Manhattan, such wonders have eluded me here (though some may say my thighs have been eternally grateful) and I have made do with trips Stateside to get my fix. Until now.
Now, all of a sudden, you can barely move for burritos. New restaurants Giraffe, Mission Burrito, Las Iguanas and Nandos have landed in Italian Bistro Central and shaken their maracas all over the shop. It's almost as if they all bought the same market research report "University towns want more South American food". Franchise city though it may be, I'm lovin' it. Kid in a candy store me.
Though of course now I have to explain this all-important news to my thighs, and hope they understand when it means yet more swimming, squash and even more of that dreaded, detestable exercise bike. I wonder, will they ever forgive me?

(Beverage: Pomegranate Green Tea. Antioxidant concession to last night's very much not. Shoes: Black patent heels. Vague attempt to combat the puce.)

Guilty pleasure 27: Drinking on a school night

When I was younger, there were no school nights. Just nights. Days were largely irrelevant. It was all about the after. 4 hours sleep, no problem. Bottles, shots, glass upon glass. Getting drunk, getting high, living on the crest of the wave called 'never missing out'. Never missing out on what exactly? Everyone else, fearful of the same thing. Of course we were all missing out. "Having fun you say? Umm, yes, of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Certainly something, anything had to be better than the same old places, same old drunk faces, surely.
Now of course things are different. I do more, I see more. I feel better. More alive than I ever did then. Now, drinking on a weekday is illicit and gleeful, if no doubt disastrous for the rest of the week. Of course I appreciate we all need to drink less, and somehow I've certainly managed to lately (the nearly 30 killer hangovers may have just clinched it), but sometimes there is nothing greater than the unspoken shiny-eyed look which passes between you and your co-conspirator, standing on the cliff face of that second bottle, which says Sod it. Why not.

Remind me of this in the morning, would you?

(Wine: Albariño Martin Codax Rias Baixas. Great white, with a bite. Shoes: Nine West. Stilettos you can live in.)

Back to basics

Meeting up with old friends is like a breath of fresh air. It puts things into perspective and reminds me of how I'm most comfortable. There's something inherently refreshing about taking off the mask and letting it all hang out so to speak. They've seen it all before, after all.
I've spent quite a bit of time lately with those who've known most incarnations of TG over the years, and it's been exactly what was needed. When things are tough, and you're not quite sure how the hell you got here, it's good to be with those who know where you came from - and remind you of it regularly.
So here's to the essence of TG, and getting back to basics.

(Shoes: Diesel flip flops. Easy living.)

The wonder of Orange Tic-Tacs

I can't decide which was the most touching moment in the quite simply brilliant Juno. The mailbox full of tictacs or the note to Vanessa. I think I'm going to have to go with the orange mailbox. It's one of those actions which someone does for you that makes you realise quite how much they understand and accept you.
Though flowers are always lovely, and dinner in a fancy restaurant is always acceptable, it's nothing compared to those things which say, I love you for all the weird shit that comes with you too.
Because we're all odd, and we all have weird shit interests – a snapshot of mine being a combination of military fighting vehicles, Nine West shoes and bad action films, preferably at the same time. It's what makes us different, special, and most importantly interesting. So bring me my own geek with their own social oddities over your stud muffin with six pack any day of the week. Except perhaps not with the yellow running shorts and headband. We all have our limits.

5 things

I was tagged by Becky for this one. I quite liked thinking about the things I do for myself, as I've only recently started to really take more time to actually do things just for myself, and to enjoy this time, and these things.

Something which I think has made me an easier person to be around, and certainly a happier one.

The rules are:

List five things you do for yourself
List five things you do for your closest friend, partner or child
List five kind things you have done for a stranger
Have fun
Tag five people


1. Five things I do for myself

Have at least one day or night a week to myself, and that includes not answering the phone
Regularly update my underwear collection
Go to the cinema once a week
Have my hair coloured, expensively
Make sure I keep learning new things

2. Five things I do for my closest friend

Just listen when I know she just needs to talk, not talk about
Support her in whatever endeavour she chooses next
Give her the spare key
Look out for things I know she'll like
Tell her often how much I value our friendship

3. Five kind things I have done for a stranger

Gave them £20 when the machine swallowed their card and they were stranded
Helped them pick out an outfit for a wedding
Helped a child back to its mother
Ran after them when they left their gloves behind at the cinema
Lend them my mobile when they were stuck on a train and needed to call home

Meme-ing Me

Right, let's give this blog lark another go. Becky has tagged me for another meme, so time to get back on the horse. I muse about the goings on of life often, and I like writing, so blogging should make far more sense than it sometimes does.

So, meme, then post. No more thought involved than that.

Captain Jack brought me back

Heck it's been a while since I picked up the virtual pen and blogged anything. Getting a new job meant no more internet access for free time frivolity, so now that's been sorted (just need the laptop fixing now... doh...) and to give in to Becky's nagging (very nice-looking new blog home I must say), I'm back wibbling on.
To celebrate the appearance of Captain John to our TV screens. Torchwood, the spin-off from Doctor Who and starring Captain Jack as lead, has always been a bit hit and miss for me. Some episodes were fantastic, some fell a little flat.
However, all this changed with the introduction of James Marsters playing Captain John, one of Captain Jack's old adversaries, and indeed lovers. Which basically leads to a fantastic series of punch-ups, staring competitions and some snogging for good measure (imagine Angel and Spike if they were suddenly overcome with lust for each other). Captain John is basically a revisitation of James Marster's Spike, but when someone does something so well, why not?
For a taster see here
and if you can still download it on BBC's iPlayer, do.
It's a great piece of television, and reminds me why science fiction is quite such a good thing.
If only Captain John could have stayed a bit longer - much like Stephen Fry in tv series Bones. I guess they had bigger fish to fry. For Mr Masters it seems a singing career is next on the list. He's playing at a mate's club in April, so I may well go. If only to see Spike sing... (I'm sure for Mr Fry, world domination is the big fish. For which I am most grateful.)