Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Absence makes the dieting bridesmaid tone up.

Hello rant readers. Apologies for the massive gaps between blogs. Don't worry, it's not as though there hasn't been anything to rant about, on the contrary, but there's been a lot going on. And sadly my Gran passed away and we had the funeral yesterday, so that kinda stifled the old brain. Anyhoo, am hoping to get back to a bi-weekly blog wherever possible, so thanks for your continued support.

Well, my bridesmaid diet has been going on for about 11 days and has about 11 days to go. So am half way through and it's going quite well. The idea is, Say No to cake, chocolate and any type of dessert; cut down on portion size and don't snack. And I'm about 90% there. I did cave one night last week and had a packet of crisps at like midnight, but don't judge me too much. Ha ha.
As I don't actually have the dress to keep trying on though, its just pure guess work. But coupled with my better eating habits, I''ve been working out and I even forked out for some hand weights. God it's hard work doing a work out with weights. I've never had any sort of upper body strength, and my body seems reluctant to start now. But really I'm just trying to decrease the bingo wings and give 'em a bit of a tone up.

One thing I never really wrote into the diet contract, and I'm ridiculously glad that I didn't, is the idea of cutting out alcohol. For me drinks don't have calories, drinks are merely essential to keep us alive, so therefore I can drink as much as I want and it won't affect anything. Luckily I'm not an alcoholic otherwise I'd probably be obese. Ha ha.

Now, I don't wanna bum anyone out but I just have one rant from my Gran's funeral. So we'd finished at the Crematorium and we were greeting long lost relatives and holding each other up and whatnot. And then the steward guys come out and say, "Right, can you all go to your cars now, we need the space for the next one."
It was like, right you've had your fifteen minutes of grief, now piss off. I was well peeved. Couldn't they have allowed at least 30 minutes between each one. It was like the most morbid conveyor belt ever.

Ok, enough.

Finally, it's Helen to the rescue as my neighbour turned up at the door about an hour  and a half ago. She'd left her bag on the train and had to go to Stockwell to pick it up, but of course all her money was in the bag. So I lent her my zone 1 and 2 oyster card and a tenner. And I let her leave her parcel in the house and use the bathroom. Who said people in London aren't very nice or neighbourly? Ha ha. As always, I break the mould.
Awaiting my oyster card return and then hoping to do a bit of writing.

Oh, and on another front, I cannot stop reading at the moment. I finally got through the Millennium Trilogy. Very good, but tough going and the first time in ages that I'd read three adult books in a row. So I am well and truly back to YA. Woo! Just finished Starcrossed and can't wait for the sequel. And am about to start Passion, the third in the Fallen books. And I've got a couple of others lined up as well as a list of wants. I do love to escape to a land of sexual tension, sexual tension and more sexual tension. It's like a lifeline for me. I just feed off it. Ridiculous and sad, I know, but also completely true. Ha ha.

Right then, I've rambled on for long enough. And I will try to not leave too long between rambles in the future.

Here's to more thunderstorms.......Ahhhhh, the Great British Summer!


Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Tinned tube heat and Strawberries.

Has anyone else ever investigated the moment at which you descend into the tube and the tube heat hits you?
It's really quite bizarre. I can literally pinpoint the exact spot when the heat will hit at several stations across London, though mainly my usual Kentish Town and Russell Square. I just find it fascinating. You're descending the stairwell, spiralling round when all of a sudden, Bam! 40 degrees. Time to strip. Beads of sweat forming at your hair line.

It must be some sort of weird temperature anomaly, that in a millimetre of air, the temperature can jump so much. It is literally a wall of heat. The only trouble is that once you've passed through the wall, you are completely infiltrated by the tube heat and there's no going back. Even if you back up and pass back through the wall, you don't lose the heat, it's stuck to you for the rest of your journey.

What I can't stand is all the people who are still wearing coats and they look really nonchalant, like they're not affected at all. How are they not dying? What are they, cold blooded? Vampires? I am literally in a thin t-shirt, occasionally a vest top and I'm still overheating, red faced and ridiculously uncomfortable. Maybe it's because I usually walk as though the devil's chasing me, especially when I'm on my way to work. So that by the time I actually get down there, I'm already working up a sweat. I would say I'd just set off earlier and then I could walk slower, but let's face it, I'd just end up at work ridiculously early. Ha ha.

So I'm now currently carrying at least two items of clothing around with me at all times, as you never really can tell what the hell the weather will be doing when you get off the tube. Sometimes it's kinda nice being underground, as life passes you by up top and so much could have happened without your knowledge. Sometimes it can work in your favour and other times it can work against you, but it's almost as though you leave the real world and enter a cramped, over crowded, artificially lit, tropical underground world, where tourists are dim and idiots are plenty. But strangely, I wouldn't change my daily transport. I kinda like it!

Well, I have just rambled on about a load of random bullshit, haven't I? Shocking behaviour.
Oh, ok, just one final whinge before I depart. I am supposed to making smoothies with my kids tomorrow and I asked for additional fruit and juices and stuff to be added to the tesco order. And of course, they order 8 tins of strawberries. Tins of strawberries! Bear in mind that I am trying to promote healthy eating this week and tell them about the importance of eating fresh fruit and vegetables and they send me bloody tinned strawberries. Needless to say, I am not using them and I went to the lovely people at the Kentish Fruit Bowl and got a punnet of strawberries and a punnet of blueberries. We will have awesome smoothies tomorrow! And I can't wait to sample them, minus scummy tinned strawberries!!! Blurgh!

Ohhhhh, okay. now that's enough whinging for a Tuesday night.
I have a hot date with Microsoft Works Word Processor..............It's a Tuesday night writing marathon!

Ciao for now!

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Schizophrenic Weather

Hail in the middle of June! Ridiculous! But also true.
Sheltered under a tree in St James' Park, a tree that was actually a house where a lovely little lady (My friends' little girl - 2 and half year old C) kindly let us in, for a cup of tea.
It was hilarious to see all manner of people taking refuge under trees, especially the low hanging ones. Most of the men couldn't even stand up straight. Welcome tourists. Ha ha!!!
Well, here's to Britain and it's schizophrenic weather, that can turn from sunny to hail within about 20 seconds! You keep us on our toes. You keep our feet perpetually soggy and our spirits low. Thank you! 


Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Tuscan castles, clapping and MEAT!

Ooooo, it's been a little break again, but I was in Italy for a few days so presumably, you'll let me off.....No? Ah well, not a great deal I can do about that. Ha ha.

I have to say I was a tad disappointed that when I got to Italy, the first two days were cloudy with rain. I was like, erm, did I get on the plane, or did I forget and just go home to London? Did it really happen or did I just imagine it? I definitely did not sign up for wet week. But the Italians know how to do cloudy, better than Britain. It was still very warm (mid to late twenties) and when the sun was allowed to break through it was great, but still, it was rather comforting to know that other countries experience a dismal grey - supposedly - summer day every once and a while.

Needless to say, Monday and Tuesday were much better as we left Modena and headed for Tuscany. Wow! I think that's all you need to say really. Castle after castle after castle after castle. And not a ruined castle in sight, like in Britain. These were intact castles dating back from as far as the 13th century and were pretty freakin' awesome! Couple the castles with scorching sunshine, windy cobbled streets and coloured flags flying everywhere and vino running like water, and you've got yourself an awesome combination.

Now, for all you vegetarians out there, you might wanna skip over this bit, but you meat eaters listen up. Oh my God, the steak! Its called Fiorentina, I think, and its from the biggest cow which they breed for these mahoosive steaks. Oh my God, they were hacking at the meat before you're very eyes, it was incredible! And three of us shared a steak and guess the weight........go on guess.......no really guess...........

1950g   (and you were charged by the hundred grams.)

Argh! Bet you didn't guess right. It was insanely monstrous but absolutely delicious. I just kept thinking of my friend L. She would have loved it so much. MEAT! MEAT!

OK, veggies, you can rejoin us now. And my final little rant is about Italians on planes. Now, in general I love you guys, you have an awesome country (though the politics leave a little to be desired) great food, sunshine and many other amazing things like art and architecture and gelato! But really, do you have to scream every time the plane moves an inch? Do you have to clap once the plane lands? That's my worst one! You don't clap a landing plane, anymore than you clap at the end of a film at the cinema. Oh, it makes me really angry.

Ok, so they were fairly young, probably mid teens but still, why? why? why?

The other funny thing about Italians is that they cannot queue. They just don't get it. They try their best at every opportunity, to cut in, to bypass the queue or just feign ignorance to the whole queuing system. hmmmmm. I guess it is stereotypical that Britain's love to queue, but its not even that, it's more than we understand how to queue and we do it properly. No one likes to queue, everyone wants to be at the front of a queue, so therefore not have to queue at all, but realistically that never happens.

Anyway, I should stop ranting and get off to work. I don't think they'll be impressed if I'm late after three days holiday.

Enjoy your Thursdays.

Friday, June 10, 2011

High vis, little light, shameless, pathetic, delivery wankers!

So I've been meaning to blog for a few days now, but things keep getting in the way. It's been a week of anniversaries this week, with Monday being three years since I left the wondrous KA in Manchester, where I worked with some of the most awesome people ever! Tuesday became three years since I'd moved to London and Thursday was my three year anniversary at my current job......no comments there then.
It's also been a week of solitary confinement, minus Wednesday when a certain S kept me company. I'd forgotten how difficult I found it to sleep in the flat by myself. Normally I just stay up till ridiculous o'clock watching trash tv, until I flake out. Now, this worked on Monday, but then Tuesday at 12.30, I wasn't having any of it. I tried reading, but then as soon as I turned my light out, I could hear noises and see shadows, and my stupid imagination started running away with itself. And images from Paranormal Activity flashed through my head and I heard an almighty bang - presumably from one of the neighbours - which caused me to flick the light back on. After that, my mind went on overdrive and I figured the best thing to ensure my sanity remained in check and that I actually managed to sleep before work, was to leave my little light on.
OH MY GOD! When was the last time I had to sleep with the light on? Pathetic. I felt like a little kid, but I guess my imagination is at least a hundred times worse than a kids, and I suffer from a pessimistic disposition. Meaning my thoughts are usually sick, twisted and involve me dying in some hideous way. Not exactly the formula for good sleep.
Well, now that I've embarrassed myself by admitting how pathetic I am, I think it's time to move on.

So really, Shameless USA? Are you taking the piss? Really? Seriously?

I don't really think I need to say much more there. It's pretty much along the same lines as my Swedish film rant a few blogs ago. America.....just bloody leave it alone! Shameless is set in Manchester, it's northern, it's awesome and taking it to America is just bullshit! Just take the series as it is and air it in Manc. I know you'll have trouble understanding the accent, but we have to deal with all of your differing accents through film and tv. SO just deal with it! Ok, so it seems I did have more to say on the matter. But now, I'm finished.

And finally, rude delivery men in high vis jackets. Yesterday at work there was a delivery for the Community Centre which is next door to our school. This guy comes down the ramp and yells at one of the staff through the window, asking if we were the community centre. He was very politely pointed next door, literally fifty metres down the ramp, I'm not talking miles here. And then he was all like, "But I have a delivery and I can't leave my van."
To which my staff replied, "But we're not the community centre, it's right there where the blue door is. Just down the ramp." Again very politely put.
To which he then stomped off yelling about how he couldn't leave his van.
I was like. What the feck? Don't be rude to my staff. Isn't the whole point of a delivery person, that they actually deliver something, to your door????? Am I just crazy in thinking that???? Is that not in the job description?????? And what's with the can't leave the van business???? What is he worried it might run off??? There's not many people that would want to steal a van filled with gravel and other bullshit things like that. Now, if it was filled with bags of crisps or something exciting like that, then he;d have no chance. I reckon he was a right dick and he'd left the keys in the ignition, that's why he was so edgy about his precious van. Just get off your arse and do your job, you feckin' retard!

Anyhoo, needless to say, Helen to the rescue. I went to the Community centre and warned them about the extremely rude delivery person who would inevitably still be stomping around upstairs and they had to go and fetch their delivery themselves. What a toss pot! I tell you, if he comes again, he's gonna have to face some wrath!

And breathe! God, I still have so much to do before work today, so I'd better skidoodle. Hopefully I'll have chance to blog at the weekend and hopefully I'll shake this cold which has made me lose my voice. I've gone all husky. i could be a blues singer now. Ha ha!

It's F F F Friday!!!!!!!

Monday, June 6, 2011

Passing through you.

Well, I apologise to the three women that barred my exit from the tube tonight and seemed to think I should be able to pass through them. Sorry, I haven't yet gained my lisence for passing through organic matter. I know, it's ridiculous. How long could it possibly take? But seriously, next time, when someone is saying excuse me and smiling and pushing through to get the hell out, just move your fat asses out of the way.

I had an interesting journey of smells on the way home. The first tube I got from Russell Square to Kings Cross, stunk of chicken soup. It was bizarre. There was this huge guy, very square like and I was sandwiched against him. He wore a grey suit and it just stunk of chicken soup. Weird. Then the next tube I got on smelled of soap. Such a complete contrast. I've never really noticed such smells before. It's normally just man sweat, or dust and fumes and general undergroundness.

Ah well. Am looking forward to left over roast for tea. Yum! I love left overs. Well, for one it means I don't need to cook, and for two, it always seems to taste a little better. And as my fella has just started his new job and I'm likely to be home alone most of the week, then left overs is definitely good. Let's hope I can use my solitary confinement for good use. Let Writing Fest 2011 begin.........


Saturday, June 4, 2011

Freakin' messed up dreams!

Well, my head has been busy tonight. Not one messed up dream, but two! And what's weirder is that I can actually remember them, pretty much frame by frame.

So, dream one.
Me and my fella A are in a very exclusive sort of community, something like 90210 or some equally distressing place. So, surrounded by ridiculously beautiful people and hating every second, it gets worse. We end up in a church, not exactly A's favourite place. But it doesn't look anything like a church, there's no aisle or pews, its just a huge open space with a stage at one end. So, it looked like a gig really. There was a band playing with four singers which were all sexy women wearing extremely provocative dresses. Of course me and A are somewhat shocked and confused and a bit what the f**k.
They start singing and there's a blonde wearing a long, burgundy dress with a huge slit up the side, all the way to her thigh. I can't remember the other two girls to the right of her but then the girl on her left, I was like, "A. Oh my God, I went to school with her. I haven't seen her in about 12years. God, she's aged. She doesn't look that good anymore. Ha ha."
Then the girl who I'd gone to school with started singing, but weirdly her voice was muted and only her actions became important. She was gyrating (bearing in mind we're in a church) in this dress that was cut in such a way that when she stretched in a particular way......you could almost see vadge. Eek! Then randomly, someone from the crowd turned round, exasperated and it was my friend C who actually went to school with the both of us as well. And she was like, "Oh my God, you can see her Vadge." Then we pretty much gawked away for a few more seconds, judging with every look and wondering what the hell type of church we'd strolled into, before I woke up. It was 05.22 and of course I was busting for the loo. I swear that's why my dreams are often completely messed up, because they're ruled by my bladder. Ha ha.

Anyway, Dream two.
Again, it was me and A, which is sort of unusual, because I normally dream about me by myself or with random strangers. We were on holiday and just walking around soaking in the atmosphere. We strolled along this veranda and there were people eating and drinking at tables, generally chilling out and enjoying the balmy day. The veranda was closed off and when we exited it was dusk. In the distance I could see an island, which was illuminated by some sort of light source (yet we had little to no light). It was pretty eery and the island was surrounded by a few wisps of visible cirrus clouds. The way the island jutted up out of the water created the look of a ramp and I could just make out a building perched on top. I had my trusty camera Leonard with me (yes I named my camera! freak!) and as I went to take a photograph, all of a sudden the island disappeared from view. 'A' took the camera from me and then when I next glanced up it was glorious sunshine and I had to shield my eyes. People were running, from all directions, running to higher ground and as I looked over the water, I couldn't believe my eyes. Twenty metres below me, a road was emerging from the water, a road that linked to the mysterious island and people were walking out of the water, as though they had been underneath while the tide was in.

But there are tides and there are tides. Dear lord, this must have fallen 50 metres or so, revealing a whole other part of the community. It was extremely disturbing (I have a phobia of deep water) and we managed to get to higher ground. But as we did, people were running from the other direction and water was falling them, water was actually chasing them up hill. As it reached the brow of the hill, it slid back down and everyone congregated at the top. Once the initial threat was over, people resumed their day, as if that was completely normal. Then of course, that was the end of my Saturday sleep in and was about 07.00. Awesome!

That second dream was so vivid and the creepy island in the distance with the odd source of light and the clouds, I can still see the image now. I'm thinking.....................New book idea? Ha ha. Not another one!

Ah well, enough of my messed up subconscious. I want to say Re: My last blog, Skanky Zebras. That basically I hope it didn't come across as though I was condemning all cyclists and motor vehicle drivers and saying that all pedestrians were saints. As that is obviously not the case and most pedestrians have a death wish, and don't look when the cross the road and all that jazz. So what I propose is that all pedestrians have to re-do the Green Cross Code (taught originally in primary schools) and that all cylcists should re-do their cycling proficiency and that all vehicle drivers should re-do their theory test every so often. So that way, it's all fair.

Have a great Saturday! Breakfast time now!