I'm angry.
Extremely angry.
And it's all the time and nothing seems to quell it. My whole body's tense with it. I'm seething and any tiny little thing just makes me wanna explode.
And the worse thing is, I can't seem to find a reason. I mean, there are many many reasons, but I know deep down there must be a root of the anger, an underlying issue that I can't deal with, or something that pissed me off ten weeks ago and keeps milling around inside. But so far, I'm stumped. I can't figure it out and I'm just left with all this craziness and quite frankly, violent thoughts. Ha ha.
It's of course worse at work. I think everything is worse at work. But I just can't stand to be there at the moment. Everything is ticking me off and I just want to shut myself away from everyone, even at times, the kids. Which is very unusual for me.
Today was made worse by the fact that I had to fill in for the cook. She's on holiday and we've been taking turns but it's really not something I feel comfortable doing. I'm only just about comfortable cooking for 8 of my friends that I've known for years. But cooking for 20 kids and staff and trying not to poison them or stuff it up or make it taste like crap......that's a bit too much for me. This is so far out of my comfort zone, it's ridiculous. I mean, the first five times I made risotto I had hand typed instructions from A. And most of the time I bake from recipes. Even if I know the recipe, I still like to check the text, for comfort, for piece of mind. But this was just, make cous cous and chicken in a nice sauce.
I can't make sauce from scratch! Argh! But actually I did. I'm not sure it was any good but some of the kids were very sweet and kept telling me it was yummy. Even if they didn't mean it, it was very much appreciated!
But what I didn't appreciate was all the looks and the interference from others. "What are you doing with that?" "Why've you done that?" Blah blah blah. I don't enjoy people looking over my shoulder. It's not like I'm gonna burn the freakin' kitchen down. I'm the freakin' oldest person there! And I'm the one with the common sense. But really, ARGH!!!!
That's definitely the words of the day. ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There's so much more I wanna rant about that, but I think I'm likely to turn any readers I have left, into haters.
So instead, I'm going to rant a little about my afternoon tube journey. Ha ha. Much better.
So I'm at Russell Square tube station and as always I take to the stairs. This guy instead of slipping in behind me, tries to go around me and for some reason I just think, Fuck you, you're not coming past. And so, I go really fast and even shimmy around other people, just so I can get to the bottom before he does. I don't know where the crazy competitive stair race came from. I just knew that I didn't want him to get past me. As we got to the penultimate spiral I felt him hovering behind me, trying to get past on the right side and I just belted down those stairs. I even threw myself in the middle of the staircase to make sure he definitely couldn't get past. Ha! I won and fuck off Mr extremely impatient bastard!
God. What the hell is wrong with me?
Then when I got off at Kings Cross there's this woman trying to shove her kids on as all the tube traffic is trying to get out. I mean, is it that difficult to wait and not use your kids as a battering ram? No? Oh okay, it must just be me then.
And finally, I really hate those people who come and stand right in front of you, when you've clearly been stood there waiting. It's like they don't even see you. It's like they think you're not getting the next tube, you're just standing, enjoying the view, you know the northern line platform northwards, really is a tourist hot spot! Urgh! And not to be in any way sexist, but they're always men and they're always 6ft tall!
ARGH!
Well, I'm not going to be cooking at work, ever again! Unless it's baking with my kids. I could do that till the cows come home. And the plan is to breathe through the rage and try and enjoy my next three days of Halloween planning, culminating in Helen's annual Halloween party on Friday. I have party bags and gifts and games and all sorts. So hopefully that will get me through the rest of the week without doing something I shouldn't.........Must repress violent thoughts. Must repress violent thoughts.
Ha ha. Ah well, chicken thighs and cous cous tonight.....surprisingly similar to what I cooked at work today. In fact, the cous cous is actually left over. So now I can poison A too. Ha!
Vampire Diaries tonight, though I will be savouring it on the ITV player tomorrow as A can't stand it. He says they're all models and they're just pretty and they can't act. And it's not realistic that such as small town on the East coast would be so culturally diverse. And I say...........So? What's the problem? There's Vampires and Werewolves. We're hardly expecting something close to reality. Besides. They are really pretty. Ha.
Oh and something that will also keep me going is the prospect of rockin' out on Friday at the Electric Ballroom with J and T and A on Friday night. Then of course, Saturday night Halloween party at L and D's. Whoop. Oh that just cheered me up thinkin' about it. Awesome! And copious amounts of alcohol. that should definitely quell the anger. He he.
I hope you aren't all angry and bent out of shape lilke me. Have a great week.
Helen
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Shampoo and naked guys with glasses. Just another Friday.........
Again I begin with apologies for the absent blog this week. Been mega busy and then I was gonna write one this morning, but I found that the new series of Vampire Diaries had started and so I caught an episode of that before work, instead. It was a tough decision but brooding boys and sexual tension won over and so now you are left with a weekend blog entry. (Sorry J. I know you like to read it on the train to work. I will do better next week. I promise.)
And so.......Buying shampoo. Shouldn't it be easy? Walk into Boots or Superdrug and grab a bottle of shampoo, pay and lather rinse repeat.....Right?
In theory, yes. But in reality. There's 100's of coloured bottles all promising something that is inevitably not gonna happen, like I'd have volumous hair; or beautiful ends, or shiny hair; or professional hair care that would put me on par with the leading hair stylists. And not only these lies, but there's all the jargon that no one really understands, like proteins and vitamins and formulas and secret technology and.........Get over yourself. It's washing hair, it ain't rocket science, or brain surgery. And in most cases you either go for something on offer, or, and I'm sure this isn't just the women, you go for the one with the prettiest bottle. Ha ha. It's freakin' true though.
Needless to say, my new shampoo has a shiny red bottle. Nice! And it does promise me beautiful split ends. I hope that means that my ends will be beautiful and not that my split ends will be. Ha!
A bus went past me today on the way to work with this massive D&G advertisement for, believe it or not, glasses. There was, of course, a naked and extremely toned guy and lo and behold he was wearing a pair of glasses.....nothing else though.
I found myself tutting. I mean did he really have to be naked? It's like seeing someone naked except for socks. It's just weird and in the case of socks, wrong. Unless someone's eye sight was that bad, they wouldn't have sex with glasses on, shower with glasses on, or swim with glasses on. Although, guess you could watch porn with glasses on (not that you'd need to be naked for that, but I was struggling to figure out other reasons to be naked.)
So then I thought, okay, let's try and figure out the reasons why it would be best to sell glasses with a naked man, not of course counting the obvious, sex sells. And this is what I came up with.........
They could be trying to say, buy these glasses and you too could look good naked.
In which case, my response would be: I don't look good naked and it ain't likely to improve if I wear glasses, because I'll actually be able to see myself in focus. Urgh!
Perhaps they'd found a way of using hypnosis on adverts and if you look anywhere but his eyes then you suddenly have an urge to buy glasses. But not any glasses. D&G ones.
They could also be trying to send subliminal messages, by encoding data into his pecs and abs.
He he. Or of course, it could just be a not-so-clever-been-done-a-million-times-before, sex sells, obvious advert, which is simply something to oggle at. By the way, the hypnosis and subliminal messaging didn't work. I kept my eye firmly on the glasses.
Am currently on the train up North to see the parentals and some friends. In fact, I have a posh function tomorrow (well posh for up North) and I have to wear a dress and everything. Perhaps I should take a copy of the D&G advert with me and that way I can wear jeans but hypnotise them into thinking I'm wearing a dress. Ha!
Nah, it should be great fun and I have the honour of escorting one of my oldest and dearest friends. CT. We are going boy-less and so she is my date. It's gonna be awesome! Much dancing and general merriment, though hopefully not so much alcohol that I embarrass myself or forget half the night. Eek. Actually last night I lost a couple of hours after drinks with C, but they were on my couch wrapped in a blanket, with Film Four on in the background, so not too harrowing. Funny though. I just can't hold it like I used to. I don't bounce back as quickly as I used to in the morning too. Damn old age. He he.
Well, I hope this has been sufficiently odd enough for you and I will return soon with more bizarre stories, ramblings, rants and general wonderment.
Bon Weekend.
Helen
And so.......Buying shampoo. Shouldn't it be easy? Walk into Boots or Superdrug and grab a bottle of shampoo, pay and lather rinse repeat.....Right?
In theory, yes. But in reality. There's 100's of coloured bottles all promising something that is inevitably not gonna happen, like I'd have volumous hair; or beautiful ends, or shiny hair; or professional hair care that would put me on par with the leading hair stylists. And not only these lies, but there's all the jargon that no one really understands, like proteins and vitamins and formulas and secret technology and.........Get over yourself. It's washing hair, it ain't rocket science, or brain surgery. And in most cases you either go for something on offer, or, and I'm sure this isn't just the women, you go for the one with the prettiest bottle. Ha ha. It's freakin' true though.
Needless to say, my new shampoo has a shiny red bottle. Nice! And it does promise me beautiful split ends. I hope that means that my ends will be beautiful and not that my split ends will be. Ha!
A bus went past me today on the way to work with this massive D&G advertisement for, believe it or not, glasses. There was, of course, a naked and extremely toned guy and lo and behold he was wearing a pair of glasses.....nothing else though.
I found myself tutting. I mean did he really have to be naked? It's like seeing someone naked except for socks. It's just weird and in the case of socks, wrong. Unless someone's eye sight was that bad, they wouldn't have sex with glasses on, shower with glasses on, or swim with glasses on. Although, guess you could watch porn with glasses on (not that you'd need to be naked for that, but I was struggling to figure out other reasons to be naked.)
So then I thought, okay, let's try and figure out the reasons why it would be best to sell glasses with a naked man, not of course counting the obvious, sex sells. And this is what I came up with.........
They could be trying to say, buy these glasses and you too could look good naked.
In which case, my response would be: I don't look good naked and it ain't likely to improve if I wear glasses, because I'll actually be able to see myself in focus. Urgh!
Perhaps they'd found a way of using hypnosis on adverts and if you look anywhere but his eyes then you suddenly have an urge to buy glasses. But not any glasses. D&G ones.
They could also be trying to send subliminal messages, by encoding data into his pecs and abs.
He he. Or of course, it could just be a not-so-clever-been-done-a-million-times-before, sex sells, obvious advert, which is simply something to oggle at. By the way, the hypnosis and subliminal messaging didn't work. I kept my eye firmly on the glasses.
Am currently on the train up North to see the parentals and some friends. In fact, I have a posh function tomorrow (well posh for up North) and I have to wear a dress and everything. Perhaps I should take a copy of the D&G advert with me and that way I can wear jeans but hypnotise them into thinking I'm wearing a dress. Ha!
Nah, it should be great fun and I have the honour of escorting one of my oldest and dearest friends. CT. We are going boy-less and so she is my date. It's gonna be awesome! Much dancing and general merriment, though hopefully not so much alcohol that I embarrass myself or forget half the night. Eek. Actually last night I lost a couple of hours after drinks with C, but they were on my couch wrapped in a blanket, with Film Four on in the background, so not too harrowing. Funny though. I just can't hold it like I used to. I don't bounce back as quickly as I used to in the morning too. Damn old age. He he.
Well, I hope this has been sufficiently odd enough for you and I will return soon with more bizarre stories, ramblings, rants and general wonderment.
Bon Weekend.
Helen
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Blood, brains and penis' at the Saatchi Gallery, plus slightly too much Woo Woo!
Hello. Apologies for the lateness of this week's blog, it's been an odd one and I've been trying to fit in a lot of writing on the old novel, which is great but sometimes my time management and organisation leave a little to be desired. Basically, I wanna quit work and write and write and write forever, which just goes to show there are no bounds or limitations to my imagination. So instead, I fret and panic and spend way too long at work and then get annoyed at myself for having fretted, panicked and spent too much time at work, which once again detracts from writing time and blogging. Urgh!
And of course I got my fifth rejection from an agent I really wanted which just made the week even more fantastic! And as much as I knew it was gonna happen and I was prepared for it, it still hurt. No matter how many layers of thick skin you throw on - and I have a load which is probably why I'm always so hot on the tube - rejection is just something we, as human beings, don't like. And why should we? Being told you're not right for the job; being told what you've done is no good; being told you're rubbish at what you do. These are the things that screw children up for life. Yet as adults we're supposed to take it with a pinch of salt, pick ourselves up and hit 'em back twice as hard, which is my philosophy. I plan on making each and every one of my rejectors, utterly regret not taking on my book, by it becoming huge and it becoming a cross over into adult fiction and then I'll be like, "Ha, In your face, bitches." But enough of depressing things, let's get to the good stuff.......
He he. The hideous couple in the lift at Goodge Street this afternoon. Congratulations you've made it to the blog. Oh my God, they were chewing face and all over each other and that's just unnecessary, especially in a tiny box with twenty other people. At least wait until you're out the other end. It was gross, but also hilarious because this wasn't some uber young teenagers or anything, they were easily in their thirties and just touching and kissing every few seconds. Obviously, "get a freakin' room," came to mind, but I was also contemplating the good old bucket of cold water. It's a classic. But to be fair, if the lift ride had gone on any longer, I may have just gone for a full fledged screaming or hair pulling. You can't beat a bit of hair pulling.
What was even more hilarious was the fact that no one wanted to stand close to them, as they were mauling themselves, so they had this ring of disgust surrounding them, but that just pissed me off even more. Why should they get space, when I've got a elbow in my back, someones newspaper on my head (it sucks being short sometimes) and the smell of sweaty men attacking my nostrils? Really we should have created a little circle pit and then started attacking them, like a mosh pit or something. That woulda been good. Or we could have just given them no space, which would quite possibly have deterred them from slobbering all over each other in the first place. Ahhhh, you always think of these things afterwards..........
Oh and I wanted to thank my uber amazing friend L for coming for some extremely cheeky and slightly lethal (due to ridiculous cheapness and sheer quantity of them) cocktails on Tuesday. It was much needed and I had a blast, despite the tiny cockroach that seemed determined to plague us. Yeah, it's a slight dive (okay, a mega dive) but it's cheap cheerful and in all honesty, the first time we've found a cockroach there. So that's something. Ha ha.
I think my highlight was the crazy Italians that came to chat us up. they'd been staring through the window at us and then holding up pieces of paper, but let's face it, I didn't have my glasses on, so I had no idea what they were bleating on about. In the end they placed a piece of paper on the table and a pen and walked away. I drew a star on it and then when he collected it he said, "So your name's star?" And I thought, why the hell not. I love stars and that would be a well cool name, so I said yeah and then they said that L looked like Cameron Diaz. So they referred to us as Cameron and Star, which was just quite hilarious! I mean, they were clearly trying to chat us up but they were also completely harmless. We led off pretty quickly with the fact that we both have boyfriends, though it was quite funny because my fella is Italian too. Ha, in their faces! They were from the South though. Boo! We love the North! North Italy rocks! No offense and I haven't even been to the South, but I have to stick up for what I know and that's Northern Italy Rocks! Then before they left they wanted a picture with a celebrity (L: Cameron) and they gave us both a 10 Euro cent coin. He he. It was shiny though. I love shiny coins.
Then I drunkenly stumbled home after three pitchers of cocktail and no food. He he. We never learn.
Montessorian! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
And so, I reach the end of another blog and I leave you this week with a lovely observation from Saturday afternoon. We took a trip to the Saatchi Gallery with A and his parents that were visiting from Italy. And I try to be open minded with modern art, and I am, I really am, but.......What the Feck?
Creepy plaster people ripping out people's gutts and shoving penis' through heads is just unnecessary and slightly evil. I did also make the comment that the only funny penis in head moment I've ever seen, is in Scary movie, but that's penis through ear. It's still gross but in the context of a very silly, spoof horror movie, you can kinda allow it. But there were a lot of children there and it just seemed a little too much penis in head for my liking. Just imagine some of the questions kids would have asked....He he.
Then there were also a lot of dead animals and brain matter and blood and horse skin and it was all just a little nasty. When you look at the description and it says, materials: horse skin, plaster, hair and blood, you kinda go.....oh, lovely, before skipping out of the room to try and find something a little less dead.
And then, possibly the worst one for me was the clowns with extremely scary faces and these weird pink arms and stuff and they were stood up in the middle of the room, but I couldn't go near them. I was convinced they would start to move. Eurgh! Luckily they didn't otherwise they might have had another exhibition, fresh that day by Helen Richards: Shit stain.......
But what really put the icing on the cake was the kids. There were all these super middle class families with their three kids, all of whom were under five, all of whom just wanted to climb on the stuff and touch it and generally piss about. It was awesome to watch as the parents strolled around examining the pieces, clearly identifying with dead horses and penis' in the head. But my ultimate favourite was the little girl who was amazed by everything. Everything was "Wow! Wow Mummy. Look at that! Wow!" And then they entered the room with the crashed cars and she said, "Wow Mummy that's amazing!" And her mum replied, "No it's not. It's a car crash." Looking particularly harrowed that her child found it fascinating and dragging her out by her hand. Ha ha. Kids rock!
As always guys, thanks for reading.
Happy Thursday.
Helen
And of course I got my fifth rejection from an agent I really wanted which just made the week even more fantastic! And as much as I knew it was gonna happen and I was prepared for it, it still hurt. No matter how many layers of thick skin you throw on - and I have a load which is probably why I'm always so hot on the tube - rejection is just something we, as human beings, don't like. And why should we? Being told you're not right for the job; being told what you've done is no good; being told you're rubbish at what you do. These are the things that screw children up for life. Yet as adults we're supposed to take it with a pinch of salt, pick ourselves up and hit 'em back twice as hard, which is my philosophy. I plan on making each and every one of my rejectors, utterly regret not taking on my book, by it becoming huge and it becoming a cross over into adult fiction and then I'll be like, "Ha, In your face, bitches." But enough of depressing things, let's get to the good stuff.......
He he. The hideous couple in the lift at Goodge Street this afternoon. Congratulations you've made it to the blog. Oh my God, they were chewing face and all over each other and that's just unnecessary, especially in a tiny box with twenty other people. At least wait until you're out the other end. It was gross, but also hilarious because this wasn't some uber young teenagers or anything, they were easily in their thirties and just touching and kissing every few seconds. Obviously, "get a freakin' room," came to mind, but I was also contemplating the good old bucket of cold water. It's a classic. But to be fair, if the lift ride had gone on any longer, I may have just gone for a full fledged screaming or hair pulling. You can't beat a bit of hair pulling.
What was even more hilarious was the fact that no one wanted to stand close to them, as they were mauling themselves, so they had this ring of disgust surrounding them, but that just pissed me off even more. Why should they get space, when I've got a elbow in my back, someones newspaper on my head (it sucks being short sometimes) and the smell of sweaty men attacking my nostrils? Really we should have created a little circle pit and then started attacking them, like a mosh pit or something. That woulda been good. Or we could have just given them no space, which would quite possibly have deterred them from slobbering all over each other in the first place. Ahhhh, you always think of these things afterwards..........
Oh and I wanted to thank my uber amazing friend L for coming for some extremely cheeky and slightly lethal (due to ridiculous cheapness and sheer quantity of them) cocktails on Tuesday. It was much needed and I had a blast, despite the tiny cockroach that seemed determined to plague us. Yeah, it's a slight dive (okay, a mega dive) but it's cheap cheerful and in all honesty, the first time we've found a cockroach there. So that's something. Ha ha.
I think my highlight was the crazy Italians that came to chat us up. they'd been staring through the window at us and then holding up pieces of paper, but let's face it, I didn't have my glasses on, so I had no idea what they were bleating on about. In the end they placed a piece of paper on the table and a pen and walked away. I drew a star on it and then when he collected it he said, "So your name's star?" And I thought, why the hell not. I love stars and that would be a well cool name, so I said yeah and then they said that L looked like Cameron Diaz. So they referred to us as Cameron and Star, which was just quite hilarious! I mean, they were clearly trying to chat us up but they were also completely harmless. We led off pretty quickly with the fact that we both have boyfriends, though it was quite funny because my fella is Italian too. Ha, in their faces! They were from the South though. Boo! We love the North! North Italy rocks! No offense and I haven't even been to the South, but I have to stick up for what I know and that's Northern Italy Rocks! Then before they left they wanted a picture with a celebrity (L: Cameron) and they gave us both a 10 Euro cent coin. He he. It was shiny though. I love shiny coins.
Then I drunkenly stumbled home after three pitchers of cocktail and no food. He he. We never learn.
Montessorian! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
And so, I reach the end of another blog and I leave you this week with a lovely observation from Saturday afternoon. We took a trip to the Saatchi Gallery with A and his parents that were visiting from Italy. And I try to be open minded with modern art, and I am, I really am, but.......What the Feck?
Creepy plaster people ripping out people's gutts and shoving penis' through heads is just unnecessary and slightly evil. I did also make the comment that the only funny penis in head moment I've ever seen, is in Scary movie, but that's penis through ear. It's still gross but in the context of a very silly, spoof horror movie, you can kinda allow it. But there were a lot of children there and it just seemed a little too much penis in head for my liking. Just imagine some of the questions kids would have asked....He he.
Then there were also a lot of dead animals and brain matter and blood and horse skin and it was all just a little nasty. When you look at the description and it says, materials: horse skin, plaster, hair and blood, you kinda go.....oh, lovely, before skipping out of the room to try and find something a little less dead.
And then, possibly the worst one for me was the clowns with extremely scary faces and these weird pink arms and stuff and they were stood up in the middle of the room, but I couldn't go near them. I was convinced they would start to move. Eurgh! Luckily they didn't otherwise they might have had another exhibition, fresh that day by Helen Richards: Shit stain.......
But what really put the icing on the cake was the kids. There were all these super middle class families with their three kids, all of whom were under five, all of whom just wanted to climb on the stuff and touch it and generally piss about. It was awesome to watch as the parents strolled around examining the pieces, clearly identifying with dead horses and penis' in the head. But my ultimate favourite was the little girl who was amazed by everything. Everything was "Wow! Wow Mummy. Look at that! Wow!" And then they entered the room with the crashed cars and she said, "Wow Mummy that's amazing!" And her mum replied, "No it's not. It's a car crash." Looking particularly harrowed that her child found it fascinating and dragging her out by her hand. Ha ha. Kids rock!
As always guys, thanks for reading.
Happy Thursday.
Helen
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
My hairdresser is a GOD! I'm a dishevelled mess and I have a dream.........
Yes, you read right. My hairdresser is a God. An Italian God at that, which somehow makes it even better. He makes me feel for that 45 minutes, like I am a super important person and that my hair is precious and beautiful and I love him for it. The only slightly annoying thing is the fact that I always choose the windiest day and usually its raining too. So I'm stepping out all like, "L'oreal. Because I'm worth it." And within ten steps I'm thinking, well I'm clearly not worth it.as I'm battling through the wind tunnel that is Kentish Town. He he.
Luckily, Daniele's blow drying could survive a hurricane, so I make it back still looking pretty ship shape and A is there to notice and acknowledge and delight over.....so it's fine. Oh and for anyone wanting a lovely Italian God to make them feel wonderful for 45 minutes, please please sample the delights of Daniele at the Kutt Zone, Kentish Town!!!!!!!
So, my faithful readers, I have sent submission number five of my book off to an agent that I really want, so of course, I'm brickin' it. I e-mailed it off this morning ridiculously early and am left with the dreaded wait. I think it's good but then tomorrow I'll probably find a whopping mistake or something to change and I'll wish I hadn't sent it off. The mind works in mysterious ways!
The good thing is that I've been mulling things over in the old head of mine and I'm now pretty sure of where to axe a few things and really cut out the crap for the rest of book one. So I can get it down to a more manageable length. In my old age I am beginning to grasp this concise thing people keep bugging on about. And you can't argue that I am trying, if at least not always succeeding. The way I see it now, is that if it ever gets picked up and enjoys wonderful success, then I can always do an author's cut, with deleted chapters and additional extras. You know, just like film directors get to do. That'd be really cool.
And so, nothing amazingly crazy happening on the tube really, though I'm still way too hot and always in need of a bikini. I actually think I must be a werewolf, my temperature seems to run a little higher than most peoples. I'm there with my t-shirt and jeans and a sweaty tache (as in moustache) and there's people with coats and scarves and stuff. What? I can't be that abnormal, surely???? Literally every morning my head is dripping and I feel (for want of a better word) icky and a bit manly too. Women aren't supposed to sweat, they're supposed to perspire and be all dainty and stuff, but in reality I'm just a dishevelled mess most of the time. Ah well. It's part of the daily fun of being Helen.
I would rant about my job but eyes and ears may be watching and listening (to what? The tap of the keys?). So I'll keep it brief. One day I will live in a world where my staff come to work all five days of the week and do their jobs to their full potential. It's a dream and as Cinderella would say (sorry., we've been listening to the Disney princess album with the kids) 'A dream is a wish your heart makes.' Ha ha.
Well, I've been nicely drinking my way through a cassis and orange, a lovely cocktail which we drank a lot of in Japan and I'm feeling good. My hair is lovely and I'm going out for pizza, though that means facing the wind again. Ha ha. Then later it's the conclusion of Dexter Season 5, which is just awesome! I love it. Never before have I been routing for people to be killed and actually worried for a serial killer. I'm literally yelling at him to kill people off. It's insane, but an amazing watch. It kicks Mad Men's ass any day. Then we are also gonna start Chuck season 4. Whoop!!!!! I love Love film!
Have a great middle of the week evening and until next week, keep your fingers and toes crossed for a speedy reply from the agent and with some sort of positive message. Maybe you'd better cross your legs too and your toes and your eyes. Just whatever you can cross really. Cheers.
xxxxxxxxxx
Luckily, Daniele's blow drying could survive a hurricane, so I make it back still looking pretty ship shape and A is there to notice and acknowledge and delight over.....so it's fine. Oh and for anyone wanting a lovely Italian God to make them feel wonderful for 45 minutes, please please sample the delights of Daniele at the Kutt Zone, Kentish Town!!!!!!!
So, my faithful readers, I have sent submission number five of my book off to an agent that I really want, so of course, I'm brickin' it. I e-mailed it off this morning ridiculously early and am left with the dreaded wait. I think it's good but then tomorrow I'll probably find a whopping mistake or something to change and I'll wish I hadn't sent it off. The mind works in mysterious ways!
The good thing is that I've been mulling things over in the old head of mine and I'm now pretty sure of where to axe a few things and really cut out the crap for the rest of book one. So I can get it down to a more manageable length. In my old age I am beginning to grasp this concise thing people keep bugging on about. And you can't argue that I am trying, if at least not always succeeding. The way I see it now, is that if it ever gets picked up and enjoys wonderful success, then I can always do an author's cut, with deleted chapters and additional extras. You know, just like film directors get to do. That'd be really cool.
And so, nothing amazingly crazy happening on the tube really, though I'm still way too hot and always in need of a bikini. I actually think I must be a werewolf, my temperature seems to run a little higher than most peoples. I'm there with my t-shirt and jeans and a sweaty tache (as in moustache) and there's people with coats and scarves and stuff. What? I can't be that abnormal, surely???? Literally every morning my head is dripping and I feel (for want of a better word) icky and a bit manly too. Women aren't supposed to sweat, they're supposed to perspire and be all dainty and stuff, but in reality I'm just a dishevelled mess most of the time. Ah well. It's part of the daily fun of being Helen.
I would rant about my job but eyes and ears may be watching and listening (to what? The tap of the keys?). So I'll keep it brief. One day I will live in a world where my staff come to work all five days of the week and do their jobs to their full potential. It's a dream and as Cinderella would say (sorry., we've been listening to the Disney princess album with the kids) 'A dream is a wish your heart makes.' Ha ha.
Well, I've been nicely drinking my way through a cassis and orange, a lovely cocktail which we drank a lot of in Japan and I'm feeling good. My hair is lovely and I'm going out for pizza, though that means facing the wind again. Ha ha. Then later it's the conclusion of Dexter Season 5, which is just awesome! I love it. Never before have I been routing for people to be killed and actually worried for a serial killer. I'm literally yelling at him to kill people off. It's insane, but an amazing watch. It kicks Mad Men's ass any day. Then we are also gonna start Chuck season 4. Whoop!!!!! I love Love film!
Have a great middle of the week evening and until next week, keep your fingers and toes crossed for a speedy reply from the agent and with some sort of positive message. Maybe you'd better cross your legs too and your toes and your eyes. Just whatever you can cross really. Cheers.
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