chaletian | Entries tagged with food and cooking and mixing bowls

Ugh, life. What a trial, eh? Every Thursday morning we have what we laughingly call our multidisciplinary team meeting which consists of the screening team plus an ophthalmologist or two. This is at 8am (which I already consider to be a TRAVESTY). Today I arrived at work at 7.05, headachey and starving hungry (for no reason, given that I could have stayed at home for another 55 minutes, come to, had a cup of tea and a lovingly prepared egg/toast combo, and generally segued gently into the morning’s travails) because I am an idiot. Still, I will go home at three (via Waitrose for a year’s worth of chocolate granola, assuming it’s still on special offer), so that will be nice. Tea tonight (and I am sure everyone feels spiritually starved from the long absence of updates re the Fangirl Towers menu) will be tomato and lentil soup* with a hearty crust of rustic bread.

Anyway, let us return, clawing fitfully through the mists of time, to yesterday evening. Katie and I went to see Rush (top notch – really enjoyed it and would recommend to all, F1 fans or not), then returned home to a tasty pasta parcel. Good times. Also, I watched the season opener of NCIS. I cannot lie, chums, I am concerned about the non-appearance of Certain People, espesh since I have heard Rumours. Prepare yourselves for wails of outrage and copious fix-it fics should the worst happen.

Moving on to today’s topic: what I’ve been reading. Actually, I’ve been hijacked a bit by my peripatetic interest in Richard III, so recent reading has consisted of Josephine Tey’s Daughter of Time, as well as Walpole’s awesome Historic Doubts and Markham’s original article in the English Historical Review** (this can be found online); the same issue includes Gairdner’s rebuttal of the Henry VII accusation and the corresponding flurry of letters couched, naturally, in the language of scholars. I have also, finally, got round to reading Kendall’s Richard III, which is extremely readable and I would definitely recommend it (also Walpole: his history is not beyond question, but it’s beautifully written).

Simultaneously, I am reading Peter Ackroyd’s The History of England vol. 1, which is also enjoyable, interspersing what is essentially a narrative divided by monarchies (arguably the most coherent way to structure a chronicle of medieval England) with snippets of social and economic history. I would definitely recommend it. And tonight’s reading will be the Holinshed’s Chronicles account of Edward II’s reign, so that I am fully prepared for the theatre tomorrow. (My edition is the Folio Society’s, and it’s beautiful.)

In conclusion, ooh, we went to see White House Down in the kino the other week and it was fucking glorious! The best kind of ridic action film, up there with Die Hard and Con Air (the twin towers, if you will, of the ridic-but-actually-genuinely-good-action genre).

* I say soup. By the time I’m done with it, it’s usually struggling bravely into stew territory.

** Yes, yes, this is because I can’t be arsed to read the whole book into which he expanded his article; maybe one day…

I have signed up to the Remix - yay! I like a bit of a remix. Dear person mixing me: have at it! I've got a load of fic all over the place - the full list up to six months ago or so is here; more recent stuff is under my fic tag here. (I also have accounts at AO3 and fanfiction.net under the username chaletian.) And I forgot to say on my sign-up, please don't remix Destroyer of Worlds, as that was a remix itself. Thank you!

In other news, chaps, I am feeling very pleased with life at the moment. These bullet points will explain why:

♥ The sun is finally shining! I was actually warm as I sat outside today, eating my lunch without a coat on. Yay sun! This winter has lasted forever.

♥ I just made chocolate and raspberry muffins, and proper orange and mint jelly FROM SCRATCH. I have recently discovered the concept of leaves of gelatine, and have made jelly and panna cotta (tasty tasty); I will not stop here.

♥ Dancing on Ice is bringing me joy. We want Laura to win, and are prepared to invest actual monies to see that dream become reality.

♥ Forgot to say, Katie and I went to see an am dram production of Hay Fever at the Putney Arts Theatre. It was actual hilarious. S - I thought he was dead! J - Oh, he's not dead, he's upstairs.

♥ New bedlinen on Sunday and a bit of a tidy. Bedroom is a haven of deliciousness.

♥ Fuck yeah, Roehampton Asda, you're awesome! I finally went to visit it on a bus, and bought two pairs of linen trousers, two cardigans, three tops, and about four vest tops. Also leaf gelatine, and a DVD of The Little White Horse, masquerading under the title The Secret of Moonacre. Asda is made of win. (OK, I know, Walmart, evil corporation etc etc etc, but on the other hand, new grey cardigan and gelatine!)

♥ I spent today consulting with another screening service and building them a little database. It's beautiful, if I say it myself. Colour coded and everything. Going back tomorrow to complete it. I do always like the opportunity to work away from the office. Far, far away... Actually, that makes it sound like I don't like my job/office, which isn't true at all, but I do like to swan around. Amanda and I are going to build a website for the service, and are going to take a day to wander around the various sites taking photos etc. It'll be ace!

♥ Post today: the new Susan Elizabeth Phillips, and my 1p copy of Noel Streatfeild's Murder While You Work. Yay! Also, Helen's lent me a couple of CS fill-ins and Streatfeild's The Whicharts.

Jizzy Chrizzy, I can't believe I subjected you all to such an epic essay on my transport decision-making! Ah well.

So, Saturday, eh? Well, I've been at work for most of today, trying to make sense of some foul research data that just made me want to kill people. And then I had a bit of a methodology crisis which I need to discuss with Prof, which made the whole exercise a bit redundant, so boo swizz, basically. Now I'm trying to copy all my music to my new laptop so I can actually sync my ipod. I am also doing some laundry. You can't say I don't know how to live it up.

In other news:

- FT smells of bacon.
- OMG the fig jam I made is SO TASTY LIEK WOAH. Mixed with yogurt, it's my new favourite pudding.
- Fig man was not in Tooting today. Hopefully he will be back on Monday.
-

balooky: you have one birthday present so far.
- It's time for me to hit the board up for money for hosting. Ugh. Hate it.
- I'm actually quite liking Nikita, but I'm struggling with Shane West as Michael - not because he's bad, but because he really reminds me of Austin Nichols, and the idea of Julian as a super-secret assassin is a bit hilarious.
- A confession: I do actually and really love One Tree Hill. Not even ironically any more. (Though I'm hoping Evil!Dan Scott will return, because that's OTH gold, right there.)
- Supernatural Season 6: not quite completely shit. Frankly, that's an post-apocalyptic angel miracle in itself.
- Went to Brownies, which is always a tiny bit hilarious. News from the front: (a) Elves won the quiz; (b) I now know more about Dutch Brownies than I did before.
- The Dutch equivalent of Brownieland is Bambilie.
- I am going to see My Chemical Romance in a couple of weeks. Actually quite excited about it. Na na na na na na na na na na na na na...
- Board meeting on Monday morning. Hopefully it will be good - plenty of reporting done for them, I've done all my action points from the minutes, we've got a new programme manager who might actually be half way decent, we're coming closer to resolving our prison screening situation; things are looking up.
- On account of board meeting, I have been devising a new transport plan. Oh yes. Usually, of course, I just get the 493 as far as Wimbledon, but this time, with my travelcard, I thought I might change it up a bit. 337 to East Putney then the District line to Wimbledon, anyone? Sexy, don't you think?
- I bought Gizzi Erskine's cookbook a few weeks ago, and have already cooked three things out of it (southern fried chicken, salmon and pea spag thing (tea tonight, nomnomnom), and passion fruit pudding - all very tasty) - this may be a recipe book record for me.
- Also made crumble out of some quince, but I think I might've been better just making jelly out of it. It was a bit too aromatic for normal consumption, and also a bit gritty, so I should probably have prepared it more carefully. Still, fairly tasty and an interesting culinary experience.
- FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGS.
- Also, Merlin tonight! With Arthur and Gwen hugging! Be still my shippy heart!
- Downton Abbey. Oh, Downton Abbey. A tiny bit ridic, but I'm rather loving it anyway.
- I have a voucher thing for tea at the Ritz. Must actually book a table. I love tea.

My dear chums, so much has happened since last I wrote, but since it all happened under cover of darkness and in the course of my role as MI5's top undercover agent, I can reveal none of it. Alas.

In more mundane news, let me get you up to speed with what I've been doing:

♥ Embracing The Globe liek woah. They've had a fantastic season - I've seen Anne Boleyn (very interesting), Henry VIII (quite ponderous and processional in tone, but I think capturing very well both the grandeur and uncertainty of court life), Comedy of Errors (actually, only the first half, but it was hilarious - lovely to see it presented as the ridiculous farce it is, rather than people trying to Do Shakespeare, which is fatal because it means taking it far too seriously), Merry Wives of Windsor (amazingly funny and awesome - Mistress Page and Mistress Ford are our new heroes - it's going on tour so catch it if you can), and the superlative Henry IV parts 1 and 2 (this is on for another week - please, please go and see it if you can, it's fabulous - Roger Allam is just awesome as Falstaff, and Jamie Parker was brilliant as Prince Hal - in fact, I want them to do Henry V next time, with him, and Joseph Timms and Barbara Marten and Sean Kearns et al reprising their roles). It even inspired me to write Bardfic, which is novel.

♥ Also seeing Welcome to Thebes at the National (oh Olivier, most favoured of all theatres), which was really interesting and a little bit heart-breaking. It was by Moira Buffini, who wrote Dying For It for the Almeida a few years ago. We're going to see Hamlet in the Olivier in December - yay.

♥ Interviewing people for jobs. Hilarious.

♥ Visiting Kathye and the new baby. Baby! So cute. Am off there again tomorrow.

♥ Planning to make fig jam tomorrow. We'll see how that pans out.

♥ Making new recipes! Actual new recipes out of a recipe book! I know, it's like a tiny miracle.

♥ Other stuff.

I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVEN'T LJED IN SO LONG! I am genuinely shocked by my own lacksadaisical approach at telling you about what I've been doing. SHOCKED. GENUINELY. So, in the seven minutes available before the Lego Head Man lets out his traditional plaintive cry that dinner (in today's case, chicken cacciatore à la Nigella - tasty tasty) is ready to be fettled, I shall update you.

This is, of course, hampered by the fact that I can't remember what I've been doing.

♥ WEDDING! Jess got married to Douglas in the darkest depths of Gloucestershire, and I, along with Katie, Pim and Katherine, went to watch. It was really nice, and we saw various people, and Megan and Hannah were bridesmaids and supercute (they went off rollicking on the grass at the reception place and in their white dresses and Megan's hair up like a little C17th girl, they did look like they belonged in a timeslip story). So, wedding was good, speeches were very good (Jess, I love you and your mother forever for both doing one), realising that the Kate and Fliss I'd been talking were in fact

chiasmata (well, Kate was), which fact apparently everyone else knew, was VERY EMBARRASSING but tant pis. Plus Travelodge/Little Chef hilarity, SO MANY TAXIS, and CELIA IMRIE being awesome. A good weekend.

♥ Our balcony garden is not yet dead. I know. We're amazed too. In fact, it's thriving: herbs are merrily growing away, we have tiny green strawberries, and our tomato plants are AS TALL AS THE SKY*. There has been a lot of watering, and also spraying of the mint with washing up liquid, as it has traumatically become infested with greenfly. Boofaces. Still, the washing up liquid is doing its promised job (god save Katie and her arcane childhood knowledge), so all is not lost.

♥ I feel I should let everyone know that, when the apocalypse comes, FT can survive for a month or so on baked beans, orange juice and yogurt. But I cannot share this information without attaching a grave warning: don't, when you find yourselves stumbling along the Strand, dodging zombies and trying to scavenge ginger nut biscuits from the bin (I'm looking at you, Helen: I know your tendancies), attempt to breach the barricade of 22 The bally old W. We will react strongly and sternly, and you will find yourself tumbling back down the stairs with the tiny remnant of a hacksaw sticking out of your eye.

♥ So, about that tiny remnant of a hacksaw. We bought a garden cane to be a curtain pole for the balcony door. So far, so good. But we knew it would be too long, so we bought a little hacksaw to cut it down to size. "Hmm," said Katie dubiously, "a hacksaw won't actually saw through wood." "La," said I, ever the optimist, "it will be fine." Came the day, came the garden cane/hacksaw attempt. Which lasted approximately three seconds, up to the point that the hacksaw blade snapped into three. "Ho hum," said I, and began my attempt to saw through a garden cane using the aforementioned tiny remnant of a hacksaw. It was about two inches long. My progress was not inspiring. After a while, Katie came to see what havoc I was causing. After putting newspaper down in a bid to stop me getting sawdust everywhere, she attached herself to one end of the tiny two-inch hacksaw blade remnant. I maintained my grip on the other end. Together, in a thrilling display of teamwork, we sawed that fucker in half. Oh, how we chuckled - near insensate with mirth, we were, and then I said (hilariously, I think we can all agree), "And then they realised they were punching a baboon!" which led to more laughter. Good times, readers, good times.**

♥ In other news, I cracked open my sewing machine, and hemmed the curtain that is to go on the hacksawed garden cane. I also made a top (rough draft with not-so-great material), which needs some work before I make it with proper material. But it's fun to be sewing again - I haven't really for ages (except for curtains etc when we moved in).

♥ Also, I have done other things with my time. I did the Remix Redux challenge, which was quite exciting because I've never done a proper challenge before. Maybe this will be the year I actually sign up for Yuletide! I wrote a Merlin fic which I quite liked in the end, so I will post that here soon.

♥ In other fanfictional news: Chalet School. Zombies. Coming soon to an LJ near you.

♥ Anyway, returning to the previous point. Other stuff. Katie and I went to see Iron Man 2, which I loved because RDJ is the king of ace. We went to a party at Nellie Dean's new house, which was vee nice. Also nice: the gather, the highlight of which was undoubtedly drinking many cocktails (and stealing bits of Kathryn's kumquat liqueur-themed ones) and trying to sing along to Joseph without Helen changing the playlist. After the gather we went to Ikea, and Katie and I bought things we needed without going crazy (the ultimate Ikea challenge). TRAGICALLY AND INEXPLICABLY the Swedish shop did not provide us with salmon paste. We are confused and desolate, just as if a treasured chum had kicked us in our lady bits.

♥ I have become indoctrinated into Criminal Minds. OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SHOW. I love everything about it. I love how the nice people at the beginning don't happen upon a grisly corpse, thereby setting in train the events of the episode. Oh no. They are the grisly corpse(s) setting in train the events of the episode. Also, Garcia is so rocking awesome. And Spencer Reid is made of love. And Jane Lynch may be the most superdooper thing ever. And Hotch is so stern and so adorable, and Morgan is just so stalwart. Anyway. Love.

♥ People should read this fic: Bredon in Narnia - The White Witch tries to tempt a child of Peter and Harriet and fails utterly. As, of course, she would. Also Rain Check - An investigation takes Hotch into Harvelle's Roadhouse. Because it's so just who Hotch and Ellen are.

♥ So, there you are. The last month or so of a squeenly life. I clearly haven't written this is the seven minutes before the Lego Head Man let out his plaintive cry. I have now nearly finished both my dinner and my yellow milk. And so I bid you adieu.

xoxo, Suburban Squeen ***

* Or about two feet tall, depending on how you view the situation.
** Which no one will appreciate, because no one ever does appreciate our hijinks. :-(
*** STILL AMUSING IN MY HEAD.

Ouf! I am ker-nackered. I have foolishly invited around a coterie of chums for lunch and tea tomorrow, and have spent all day shopping and domesticking in anticipation. (Also I went to Roehampton Library, whose online catalogue had LIED to me, but which contained an assortment of other books that looked interesting, and bought a top; more anon.) Anyway, living room and hall are now mostly tidied, I have made our starter (vee delish - always a possibility there will be none left by the time folk arrive), our pudding, and prepared veg etc, so all is going well. I have even written a timeline for tomorrow morning, which will probably be abandoned by approximately 8.03, but nevermind.

Anyway, in other news: on Tuesday night Katie and I went to see Steve Carlson and various other people perform at Underbelly in Hoxton, which was jolly nice. Nice venue with some epic sofa/throne action, and just a nice chilled-out evening. (And chilled out is right because the temperature dropped liek woah and it was fucking freezing. And raining.) On Wednesday night, we went with Chloe to see a hideous, hideous dance film at Bad Film Club chez Barbican, which may have ruined me now for life. On Thursday I had the day off (very nice; very unproductive) and buzzed into town to meet Helen and Katherine for dinner off Trafalgar Square, moving onto drinks in a random pub, where Helen made me do her work for her. Harsh, Helen, harsh. However I was bought a lemonade to compensate, so fair enough, really. Katherine and I ended up getting the 9 to Hammersmith, which was hijously slow through traffic, and then I just missed the 33 so had to wait 20 minutes, but not too bad. Friday evening, I am happy to report, I stayed in and did not communicate with anyone. Actually, I can't even remember what I did yesterday. Acquired groceries, mostly, I think. And watched the end of the last series of Doctor Who. (I love John Simm as the Master. And I love Timothy Dalton being a baddie. And I love Wilfred. And I love Ten and his epic lonely dark angst. And I love Jessica Hynes. AND I LOVE MARTHA JONES TILL THE END OF TIME.)

So, that brings us back to today, encompassing, as previously noted, a visit to Roehampton Library, a visit to Kingston to buy possibly the world's prettiest top (even though I am supposed to spend no money this month) and a roasting tin to accommodate the massive leg of lamb currently taking up our entire fridge, a fleeting visit to Sainsburys in Kingston for rosemary (which they did not have) and pancetta (which they did not have), a fleeting visit to Tesco in Richmond for rosemary (which they did not have) and pancetta (which they did not have), and finally a fleeting visit to Waitrose (also in Richmond) for rosemary (which they did not have) and pancetta (which they did not have). Poo. Then I came home and instead of collapsing with exhaustion, as every instinct begged me to do, I instead embarked upon my ambitious plan of works to get Fangirl Towers shipshape and Bristol fashion. Oh, and I laid the table, but failed to iron the tablecloth. Whatevs. And then I watched Doctor Who, which I really enjoyed (and loved young!Amelia Pond).

But I am very tired now, and so to bed.

It's Friday evening, so I'm sure I can be forgiven for bullet-pointing!

♥ I made an actual, honest-to-god new recipe for our dinner! I am always in a rut cooking-wise, and though I do occasionally add new dishes, it's at a very slow rate. (In the past year we've had chicken korma, PCP, kedgeree and... yeah, that's about it.) Anyway, this was one off a Waitrose recipe card - sausage, potato and pea casserole. Tasty, tasty. We will have the leftovers for dinner on Sunday, possibly with, as Katie phrased it, a hunk of rustic bread to mop up the juices.

♥ We went to see Crazy Heart at the kino on Wednesday, which I enjoyed. Entirely concur with Katie that Colin Farrell's role should have been played by Christian Kane, but that's the lunacy of Hollywood for you. Not as stylised as recent outings, but I still liked the cinematography, and enjoyed Bad Blake's character progression.

♥ Continuing my earlier outrage, I was further incensed to see yesterday that Ed Balls had waded into the Jamie Bulger thing to say that Atkinson's comments had been "unwise". Fuck off Ed Balls, and grow a pair.

♥ Etsy. Oh, Etsy, Etsy, Etsy. I love you and all your beautiful, beautiful things. I want my pay rise chiefly so I can buy necklaces from you. But not even for you will I contemplate a vagina plaque. I do not think it would suit our decor.

♥ We are off to Hampton Court tomorrow. I am quite excited - I do like a bit of historic house visiting. Hopefully the weather will be nice, but who knows? Actually, let's see if BBC Weather knows. Ein minuten bitte... Boo. Rain all day. Ah well, an outing isn't British if it isn't tipping it down at regular intervals. I shall, however, be taking my cag. Also a tiny picnic, as I will be meeting Katie en route from her morning chores. Egg mayonnaise sandwiches, je pense, with a bit of bugel crisp action and maybe some oreos. A meal for kings. (Not the Kings, natch, they will be at home... oh lol.) And on Sunday I must, must, must tidy the radioactive fallout zone that is my bedroom because it's just shameful. I have tunnels. They don't quite have roofs, but it's not far off. I fear for my future.

♥ Work continues to be engaging, though apparently not so much for the new prog man who has disappeared off again. Strange times. Tragically, my afternoon was spent in mandatory training for the new patient management system (which I will not be using personally), along with a dozen or so IT-illiterates, including a slightly deaf, surely-near-retirement-age lady, who asked coquettishly stupid questions all the way through and maintained a near-perfect record of clicking the wrong thing. One aged volunteer was incapable of double-clicking ("Click it, and click it again. No, more quickly. Try again."), and the trainer had obviously had more than he could bear of the whole thing (ours was the last training session for the whole hospital before the system goes live). Painful. I left as soon as possible.

♥ I have now bought all of Katie's birthday present, and want it to be her birthday NOW so I can give it to her. Why isn't it April yet? Why? IT'S SO FAR AWAY!!

Katie and I just ate a mammoth aubergine and mozzarella pasta thing. Yum. Also pop. Also, we're watching Singin' in the Rain. I ♥ Cosmo Brown. We have an army's worth of roasted vegetables to be added to couscous and feta for lunch, and we are achieving domestic goddess levels of kitchen organisation. Go us.

In other news, we went to Katherine's on Saturday for supernice lunch with Helen, Kathryn and the Kings (and Lee, natch), which was vee nice, only then Megan made us watch High School Musical 3 and I slept through the one song I actually like. Boo. :( We also got quite excited about our proposed holiday. Norfolk, woo, except no white car of peril. We're going to Hampton Court on Saturday with bods, which should be ace.

In other news, there has been no visiting of my grandmother lately. This is terrible.

We went to see Alice in Wonderland last week. It was ace, as was A Single Man the week before. I do love me a stylish film. Love liek woah. Speaking of, I should get Inglourious Basterds on DVD at some point. That film was fucking awesome.

And to wrap up: Well, I can't make love to a BUSH!

Oh, Dr Hilary, I think your feeble attempts at skating will be insufficient to win the day.

Anyway, sit down, everyone, there's a sorry story to tell. I made bol tonight and (ein minuten, let me have a little shudder) I forgot to add a bay leaf. Truly, Katie is sadly neglected. Plus she did all the cleaning and I sat and read a trashy romance. *shrugs*

Work's still joyful. New programme manager, which is... interesting. Time will tell and all that. I did a load of data cleansing on Saturday, which was actually quite satisfying, then went on to Pim's for a partay, at which I consumed more gin than was advisable. Katie and I then got several buses home across south London, which is always quite entertaining.

Also, last week, we went to see Cobra Starship! Woo! Hilariously awesome yet again, and got to have chatty fandom

(Interrupted to swear at the annoying face of Piers Morgan on the tellybox)

joy with

yan_tan_tether,

_emeraldgreen and

wildestranger, and was reminded of my Holmes/Watson joy and sort of maybe pimped into the world of Adam Lambert (there were pimping posts which were a tiny bit intriguing - music pleeeeeeease!) and thus had to spend part of today on YouTube. No judging.

Hmm, what other news? Well, none, really. Katie and I are continuing our plans for a house with a bit of a garden and a giant kitchen and maybe a conservatory and living in Wandsworth where the council tax is less than half what we pay in the goddamn fucking London borough of Richmond. (I think we should have a space for growing rhubarb, Englebert. Also, as previously mentioned, an apple tree, raspberry canes, and a giant rosemary bush. Also maybe lavender, if that is acceptable.)

In other news,

pim2005 makes me lol, and I ♥ her.

Darlings! *enfolds everyone in an effusive hug* Happy New Year to everyone!! I know I'm a bit late in the day, but I have been a bit non est on the old interwebs, so get your good cheer here! I hope everyone had a smashing Christmas - I spent mine in the parental abode, as ever, which was jolly nice, and I got a sewing machine from my parents for Christmas, which is awesome, though I have yet to play with it. Anyway, MANY THANKS for presents from people, especially those I haven't actually seen (sheep socks,

xanantha? Sheep socks? We shall be having words, young lady! Also:

klo_the_hobbit and

katie__pillar: OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS!! Best present ever! Guess who's going to see Green Day :-)) But enough of such flim-flam. Christmas is over and life is stern and earnest and, as it turns out, FUCKING FREEZING. England is like an ice box at the moment. I have taken to having a hot water bottle in bed. Last night (and you might want to sit down for this), I closed my bedroom window. I know. Such a thing has not happened since the Great Frost of '02. Still, I get to imagine being a Russian princess in a fur hat, so it's not all bad...

What other news do I have? Hmm. Work is still awesome (oh, SQL, my tiny friend). I'm going to a PCT board meeting on Monday, so that will be larky. I have discovered the Poundland in Tooting and bought clippy fake!tupperware and some more Vanish (crucial domestic details). I have baked bread and a coconut and lime cake this evening and, when the dilatory Sainsbury's person arrives, I shall make a spot of leek and mushroom pasta.

Later: Sainsbury's has been and gone; have made dinner whilst listening to Psmith; now depart to watch Chuck. Later, darlings! ♥

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I am sure this will come to a massive shock to everyone, but I don't really believe in censoring reading for kids by the time they hit high school age (particularly American high school age, which I imagine this questions means, and which I think I am right in saying is about 14?). Partly this is the voice of experience - I never really had my reading censored (I started borrowing books from the adult section when I was 11/12), and I don't think I suffered in any way for that. I read what I wanted to, what I was interested in, and that worked for me. Occasionally, I read stuff from my grandparents' top shelf, which was 'racier' than stuff I got at home (but we're talking Jeffrey Archer/Harold Robbins racy here). I read teen and adult books that talked about sex and stuff, and that didn't faze me particularly. I don't know, I think adults can get extremely precious about "protecting the children", which by 14 or so is a bit absurd, because children can actually decide for themselves what they want to read.

Anyway, in other news, I'm selling my soul (or, OK, GGBP books) on eBay if anyone's interested. Buy stuff from me! This time, it's an aid of going out next week for my work leaving thing. Because next week is my last week! Thank fuck! I've mostly enjoyed this job, it has to be said. I like (most) of the people I've worked with, the job itself has been often tedious but occasionally interesting and challenging, and I've had to learn stuff, which is always a bonus. I think I'm a better administrator than I was when I started. So, y'know, progress is good. On the other hand, they screwed me over a bit and the uniform made me want to kill myself, and the challenge is mostly gone, so I'm glad I'm leaving. Looking forward to the next job, too! I've got three weeks of that (well, two and a bit, plus the fun of NHS induction), and then two weeks of holiday, which I am really looking forward to - I do need the break.

I've been stressing quite a lot recently: largely because of work, and also because of my ongoing inability to budget my money effectively. So, I apologise to my chums who've had me ringing them up expressly to rant about work, and then adding some feeble request about their own lives! I am going to try and chill out and not obsess over being slighted by HCA and enjoy life and be sensible. A fine plan. Let's see if I can stick to it.

In fanfictional news (fascinating for everyone), I have embarked upon my long planned Merlin fic on the old rex quondam rexque futurus theme. I do, of course, use the word "planned" loosely: I had a vague idea, wrote the first part, and now find myself trying to actually plan the rest of the story. I sort of know what's going to happen. IT WILL BE FINE. In other fanfictional news, I wrote Dean and Jo and internet porn, pimped it, and then (this is unheard of), DEPIMPED IT. Yes. You heard aright. I depimped a fic. It wasn't right, and I will probably rewrite it. I've also read a load of fic recently, and will rec the good stuff shortly. I also need to get cracking on the SGA bigbang. Also, I am, once again, regretting that sign ups for Yuletide passed me by. Every year I think I'd like to do Yuletide, because there are loads of small fandoms I love and would be happy to write in, but I never do anything about it. I suck.

Small break there: I went to fetch my dinner. I'm eating parsnips. Yum. I have to take total parsnip responsibility in Fangirl Towers, as Katie doesn't like them, but that's fine by me, as I am heavily pro-parsnip. You're never alone with a parsnip, I always say. I am also wearing leggings. I look fucking absurd, but who cares? I am alone. (I interrupt this fashion update to inform you that I put a little honey on my parsnips when I cooked them, and they smell delicious. I AM A PARSNIP GENIUS.)

So, what other news do I have? I went up to Sheffield last weekend to visit Grandma, which was very nice. She's mad as ever, but it was lovely to see her (and Rosie, and my parents), even if it was quite a fleeting visit, most of which seemed to be taken up with preparing meals. But we had a jolly time nonetheless, and it's not so long to Christmas, really. Journey both ways was hideous though. There must have been some sort of M1 hoohah on the Saturday morning, because the driver came off just south of Derby and toured the back streets of Derbyshire AS IF THE COACH WERE CROSSING MOLASSES IN JANUARY. Jizzy Chrizzy, I thought my bottom would fall off by the time we finally crept towards Meadowhead. And, natch, M1 into London on Sunday evening was foul. I swear to god I'm getting the train at Christmas...

Anyway, there's my news for the time being. I'm off to read a Mills & Boon set in the Norman Conquest. Good times...

Woo! I just checked the Radio Times site because on-my.tv was telling me Merlin was on tomorrow, which I thought was a tricksy lie, AND IT WASN'T!!! I am vee excited, because I am full of the Merlin love atm, mostly because of my burning passion for Prince Arthur.

I also love Glee. It's a slightly odd show in some ways, and doesn't seem to know if it's fish or fowl or good red herring, but it's just so sweet, and I'm sort of emotionally invested in all the characters, even the ones I don't like so much, and SUE SYLVESTER IS A BEAUTIFUL ELEGANT GODDESS OF AWESOME.

So, what other news do I have? Not very much. For dinner tonight I made roasted squash and red onion risotto, which was nice. Last night was aubergine and mozz penne, made with passata from Katie's parents, which is especially nice. In the very near future I am also spying roasted veg soup, a nice bit of leek and bacon quiche, a spot of sausage and mash, and that old stand by, spin ris. Mmm. Good times.

Anyway, other than that, I've been tidying up my room, and it's actually going quite well this time. Woo. Last night I counted about 12 dresses in my possession, which is very many indeed considering a couple of years ago I didn't have any. And today I was stressed and frustrated at work, and now I have 13 dresses and no money. :( Still, I'm wearing a nice, new dress, so I totes don't care.

The rest of tonight has been spent: watching The Big Bang Theory (oh, Sheldon... ♥), Glee and last week's NCIS, making and eating dinner, obsessively checking my email, and sitting in the dark talking to Katie about Stella Gibbons' Nightingale Wood (a truly awesome book which everyone should read) and resolving that we would not become Witherish.

Today has been spent pleasantly tidying etc and weeding out books and videos to go to the charity shop. I have been tidying my room, people. I know. It's crazy. Anyway, then I made tea, and oh em gee, it was delicious! We had chicken cooked with shallots, and roasted squash (also with shallots *g* - three guesses what we got in our Abel & Cole delivery!!), and potatoes sautéed with garlic and rosemary, and broc and carrots. Absolutely lovely. We're planning to have it again tomorrow, because we're exciting like that. Ben & Jerry's for pudding. Aces. Anyway, at the moment we're watching Tristan + Isolde, which we saw at the kino when it came out because there wasn't anything else we wanted to see, and surprisingly really liked it. It's actually quite a good film, and the scenery and production design are tip top. And when I go to bed (once I've, y'know, made my bed), I will watch Merlin on iPlayer. Groovio.

Oh, what a lot of things I have to relate. Well, not that many really. My life is not, after all, so very thrilling. Hmm, let me see. So, the other night,

pim2005 came round for dinner. I cooked curry. It wasn’t ace. I also made some chocolate mousse, ditto. We watched Waiting For God and had a little bitch. It was perfectly charming. Last night, we had pizza (yum) and watched NCIS. Tonight, I am going to

weird_bird’s, and then bopping back home to welcome into the fold Chris, who is using FT as a cheap (viz. free) alternative to a hotel.

Tomorrow, however, will be a beautiful day.

katie__pillar and I are meeting

balooky and

klo_the_hobbit at the National Theatre and doing their backstage tour (OMG HOW MUCH DO I LOVE THE NATIONAL? AS MUCH AS THE SKY!), then going on to lunch in Trafalgar Square, and then rounding things off with the Wodehouse exhibition in Mayfair (or wherever it is; I’m not really sure; I just like the idea of its being in Mayfair). How ace does that day sound? Fingers crossed the weather will oblige, for there’s nothing drearier than tramping round the grey streets of London in the pouring rain (espesh when one doesn’t own an umbrella; or, rather, all one’s umbrellas have mysteriously vanished: I blame Borrowers).

Anyway, further to the tale of last night’s pizza, I was extremely disappointed in the White Hart Lane Sainsbury’s. Six kinds of cheddar and grated cheddar in a bag, but do they have any grated mozzarella to put onto homemade pizza? No they fucking don’t. It’s like the new Tesco in Sheen, which, although full to the gunwales of stuff, never actually seems to have anything. It’s freakish. Every single time I’ve gone there to get something, they’ve never had it, and I’ve had to go to Waitrose. Given that they constructed themselves right opposite Waitrose (where the Woolworths used to be – oh, Woolworths, my lost darling…), you’d think they’d make more of an effort to compete, but they’re rubbish. Anyway, that’s all by the by. Grr – Sainsbury’s – no cheese. Also, apparently a lead-lined box, because I had no phone reception.

On the plus side, however, when I was walking down the Terrace between Barnes Bridge station and the White Hart pub, it was so lovely! The sun was just sliding behind the horizon, and the sunset was glittering off the Thames (high tide), and there were lots of trees and ducks (and, fine, the Mortlake Brewery, which is a bit of an eyesore), and it were all gorgeous like out of yon picture book. We do live in a nice area. *sighs happily*

In other news, I’m a bit late to the party with this, but what the fuck is it with this free Polanski bollocks? Leaving aside the total bizarreness of slebs queuing up to support a man found guilty of inappropriate sexual conduct* with a thirteen year old girl who then fled the country (OMG WHAT PART OF ‘HE DID A BAD, BAD THING’ DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?), this is a man who was found guilty of a crime, fled the country before he could be sentenced, and finally got caught with a view to being extradited. Whatever the whys and wherefores of the case, simple judicial procedure is at stake here: of course he should have to answer to the courts. And then, of course, there is the RAPED A CHILD aspect, which you would think was a no-brainer. Are the people supporting him actually damaged in the head? So fucking what if he’s an ‘artist’? No one should be above the law.

* My understanding of this is that he was accused of rape, and then plea-bargained to unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor (presumably statutory rape by any other name?). And, please. My understanding of thirteen year old girls is that they are unlikely to be mature enough to properly consent to sexual intercourse with old men.

Well, bugger me with a fish fork. I've been enjoying all our newly returned shows, but I mun say the season premiere of NCIS has knocked them all into a cocked hat. Fucking awesome TV - loved it!! LOVED IT LIEK WOAH! \o/

In another news, it was Venom's birthday today, so we had lovely birthday breakfast, and did little else. Nice day. I made shep p. with lentils in with the usual mix, which was nice. Today, I also used my fic tag for the TWO-HUNDRED-AND-SEVENTY-FIFTH TIME. Wowza. So, you may be asking, what else has happened this week? Well, not a great deal. I have read a lot of books by Gaelen Foley, Helen came over for dinner on Monday and I signally failed to help her write a Christmas carol (seriously, darling, when was asking the atheist for help a plan?), instead getting overly amused by all the headings in my schoolgirl Good News bible (Jesus Heals a Man, Jesus Heals a Paralysed Man, The Man With a Paralysed Hand, Jesus Heals a Roman Officer's Servant, Jesus Heals Many People, Jesus Heals Two Men With Demons, Jesus Heals Two Blind Men, Jesus Heals a Dumb Man, Jesus Has Pity For the People), and last night...

Oh. Last night.

Excuse me a moment.

*goes out*

*comes back*

So, last night we wended our usual path to the Barbican for a jolly evening with the Bad Film Club. We were going to see a film that has become something of a cult in America. It... it...

No, sorry.

*goes out again*

*takes some deep breaths*

*comes back in*

I can't possibly find the words to do it justice. So I'm just going to give you the trailer instead.

Think of me in this post, if you will, as a sort of eerie Ariel, both comic and tragic, scampering about the stage in wispy veils.

1. The Trag

(a) I got half way through an actual, proper, nailing-my-colours-to-my-shipping-mast Kirk/Rand fic, when I decided it was actually shit. Does anyone want to beta for me and tell me if it actually is shit? Anyone? Bueller?

(b) I have fucked up my back and it's really uncomfortable and I am as a cripple of old. Cath's going to have a crack at it tomorrow if rotatey stretching and anti-inflammatories haven't worked their magic. Just FYI for everyone there. I'm sure you're fascinated.

(c) Fucking tipping it down yesterday. I got soaked. Everything I was wearing got soaked. EVEN MY SOUL GOT SOAKED. This situation was made worse by the fact that, along with Kathryn and Katie, I went to see Mock the Week being filmed last night, which does of course involve waiting outside the BBC for about fifty hours whilst they prance about not letting anyone in. However...

2. The Untrag

(a) Mock the Week was highly amusing and Frankie Boyle - well, there's no delicate way to put it. Frankie Boyle mimed raping Big Bird. We're all fairly confident it's unlikely to make it to the final cut. Neither, sadly, will the trials and tribulations of Mario, Dara O'Briain's Filipino lady-boy.

(b) I am making tuna lentil spectacular for dinner tonight. Mmm. Good times.

(c) Tonight will also feature the last week's ep of Supernatural (which, of course, we are dreading a bit, due to the total Fail! of Supernatural generally - we have been contemplating, actually, starting a new LJ comm, to be named something along the lines of Come On, Ladies: One More Series, We Can Do It) and, far more excitingly, this week's One Tree Hill! OTH, people! I wonder what ridiculous randomness this series will have in store for us? Also, it's Merlin on Saturday, and next week NCIS, Bones, The Big Bang Theory and Castle all start up again, so woo!!! I ♥ TV!

(d) OUR INTERNET IS BACK! REJOICE! REJOICE WITH US!

♥ Katie and I went to see (500) Days of Summer at the kino, which was really good. Two very enthusiastic thumbs up. I liked the non-linear structure (style > substance). Tomorrow is Arcadia, Friday I am going to see Ben in some random melding of all musical versions of Figaro, and Saturday is Catherine's 30th birthday party, so I will be vee busy, and then Katie's parents are coming to stay for part of next week, which will be nice. I like parental visits, and, though naturally I adore my own parents, Katie's parents are an awful lot more relaxing! However, my own mater will be staying with us next Sunday night, so it will be nice to see her too.

♥ After getting back from the cinema, we made late-night spag bol. Awesome. Garlic bread and everything (good vintage, btw, Katie). Also, we randomly received a tiny avalanche of post (almost as if the PO hadn't delivered anything for a couple of weeks which surely couldn't be the case) and an Amazon parcel apiece. Woo. My shoes arrived today, and although they are exactly the same style in different colours, one pair fits while the other doesn't. Weird. Will try the red ones on again tomorrow in the hopes of a different outcome.

♥ Also: tomorrow, prepare to stand back as I talk about how a Miley Cyrus song reflects one of my, for want of a better word, philosophical beliefs.

I write this sitting on the sofa. Which is less interesting, I grant you, than some other literary openings. Anyway, so much has happened for me to tell you all about, that I'm bound to leave everything interesting out. However, I will try my best, sadly hampered by the fact that I'm about to explode from an excess of chicken korma (mmm, chicken korma).

1. I can't remember whom I have previously button-holed on the subject of chicken korma. If it was you, I apologise. As PG Wodehouse so perspicaciously pointed out once, it is so difficult to know how to pitch your tale, when there is the possibility that bod A may know more of the story than bod B. Anyway, I have never really cooked a curry or anything like it, so it was with some trepidation that I embarked upon a recipe for c.k. that Emma gave me, but it turned out OK and I have now cooked it approximately fourteen times in the last week. Next stop: thai chicken curry, which I love but which I have, again, never cooked.

2. Do any more northerly folk know what's going on at the Tesco-roundabout-end of the Chesterfield bypass? They demolished the glassworks there ages ago, but apparently they're now building a giant (new) Tesco there, and there are rumours that there's going to be a bit of football stadium action on the remaining land - that's going to bugger up the traffic nicely come match days.

3. In re release of Lockerbie bomber as what is dying fairly imminently, WTF FBI man? Scotland's case, Scotland's jurisdiction, Scotland's decision. Fuck off out of it.

4. I'll stop waffling now and get to the nub of LIFE and the only topic about which anyone will have any interest. I'm sure you will all be delighted to hear that my hair has faded quite a lot, and although it is still massively, stupidly red, I no longer look like Jane Goldman, so yay. Also, Helen cut me a bob, which is ACE and also AWESOME (even though Pim's bathroom was apparently covered in my hair for quite some time EVEN THOUGH I totally tidied up after myself).

5. So, ja, the other weekend, I went to Helen's, and we hung out being ineffectual together, and then we went to Pimly's, where she cooked us Mexican lasagna (always a treat, and who knew Nellie Dean could even cook?! I thought she lived on scraps...) and we watched St Trinian's and Mamma Mia - frankly, what could be more glorious? What indeed? I hear you say. And, as mentioned, Helen cut my hair, which was a TRIUMPH because she is unexpectedly skilled in that arena. &Helen;

6. Subsequently, Pim and I went out to dinner at that gourmet institution that is Pizza Express. I had - no, wait for it - chicken caesar salad! I know! *makes I-know face* Who saw that coming? Service was fairly rubbish, as per, but we had a nice meal and chatted and bitched, and then wandered down the South Bank (which may well be MY FAVOURITE PLACE IN THE WHOLE WORLD) to the National, where we sat on the giant grass furniture and met Katherine and brushed our hair like land-locked mermaids and had ice lollies and chatted. All vee nice. We were, however, saddened by the absence of Kathryn, who blew us off for COLLEAGUES SHE PRESUMABLY SEES ALL THE TIME. Pah.

7. The day after that was Thursday (an accurate timeline is crucial), which was my last day at work that week. Now, we have a thing at work where, when it's someone's birthday, we bring in food AS A SECRET and have a little lunch party. However, Emma and I are the only ones who have ever arranged this, and as Emma's last day had been the Wednesday, I was not expecting lunch. We continued our hilarious file purge in the morning, and then I was called into the office in a tiny emergency TO FIND THEY'D DONE ME LUNCH ANYWAY! Woo! It was so exciting! Also, Cath had bought me a bottle of No 6 Pimm's (a sort of Pimm's No 1/vodka hybrid which turns out to be DELISH). All in all, a good day.

8. On Friday, after getting up ridiculously early to pack and blow dry my hair and such like, I bopped to Victoria to meet Katherine and Pim and wend our way up to Chesterfield, where the CBB Summer Frolick was - well, actually not scheduled to take place. It was to take place in Barlborough, the village where my parents live. The mater (eventually) picked us up and we went to Sainsbury's where Katherine shopped for Frolick food and Pim and I wandered around and bought clothes and stuff. Went home and then OHNOES! TRAGEDY! Katie was cutting short her holiday to come up to the old borough of Barl, and had booked her ticket from Cornwall to Sheffield, but tragedy had struck! Fearful traffic along the byways of the west country! No train catching! No movement of any kind! EPIC SADFACES ACROSS THE LAND. In the end, she had to give up the Sheffield plan and buy a ticket back to London. I will not lie. There was a tiny crystalline single emo tear*. Anyway, as luck and the script would have it, I managed to find a relatively decent ticket for London-Doncaster on the Saturday morning, and, with a bit of (FRANKLY GENIUS) jiggery-pokery, I booked it for her. \o/

9. On Friday evening, we had savoury pancakes and my parents were ridic. I love them. They're awesome. Also, on a similar note, Pim and I suspect that our mothers may actually be THE SAME WOMAN. Have you ever seen them in a hospital together? Have you? I didn't think so. I mean, we always knew there was the daughters-of-NHS-managery-women bond between us, but even so...

10. Saturday! Frolick! Tiny plastic Jesus watched over us all, and the Frolick went according to plan (except for the bit where I kept leaving out bits of activity, but that happens with the most well-regulated frolicks). Katie arrived sans problem. The Little School even had a cake stand for all Katherine's cupcakes (lemon cakes = delicious beyond measure). I made quiches.

11. DONNA BOUGHT ME A TINY PLASTIC JIM KIRK! BEST PRESENT EVER! HE IS MY TINY PLASTIC LOVERRRRRRRR! I LOVE HIM!

12. Saturday PM: back to the homestead, and time to open presents! Woo! I was in receipt of a tea towel (a present classic), a giant Cornwall pencil, a thing to make Virgin Mary toast, two pairs of Holy Socks AND PIM KNITTED ME A SHATNER!FACE! YES! YOU HEARD ME RIGHT! AN ACTUAL, HONEST-TO-GOD SHATNER!FACE, LIKE SHE SWORE SHE WOULDN'T! (Yeah, she's weak. Exploit her, people.) IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE WORDS! I LOVE YOU, NELLIE!! Also, Katie made me a birthday card that had me and Jim sailing down an Amsterdam canal, while Spock watched us go, his left eyebrow a picture of emo woe. Fucking beautiful. I love my friends. Then Daddy made us his chicken curry thing, which is always yum, and Katie and I tidied the kitchen and went to bed. A smashing day.

13. Right. Sunday. Got up, had some orange juice and a tea cake. Had a shower. Faffed. Katie and I went to the station with Katherine and Pim and bid them adieu, then Mummy took us on to Grandma's, where I had more presents, and enjoyed Grandma being as ridiculous as ever. Then Chris turned up and there was a bit of chatting, and then we went down the road to see Grandpa, who was much as ever, though he'd managed to bash himself up a bit falling down the drive. Went in the garden to admire decking and fish - all vee nice, actually. We went home and had some lunch, then Mummy took us to Sheffield to catch the old coach back to London. We had a surprisingly smooth, un-awful journey. Had a bit of tea (God's honest pork pie, some tomatoes, some Babybel, some pickled onion Monster Munch, and an apple). Got home not too late, all in all. So, that was my weekend.

Anyway, that's about it. Not much else to report.

In Conclusion

Item: I am in possession of one (1) tiny plastic Jim Kirk and one (1) knitted Shatner!face.
Item: I have new short hair.
Item: I have, this very moment, been outbid on the chest of drawers I want. Damn you, eBay, damn you!
Item: Chicken korma rocks.

Addendum: My little brother, who works for Accenture, has just had a promotion and a 25% pay increase! I am very proud of him, and also very envious! Still, he's been working ridiculous hours, so I think I'd rather have my poorer paying much less working job!

* This is, in fact, a lie.

Ah, the weekend, that oasis of awesomeness in the desert of officedom... Yesterday, Katie and I GOT UP EARLY (yes, ON A SATURDAY) in order to go to Kingston (there is nothing I don't love about Kingston) for a bit of shopping. You will all, I know, be ecstatic to hear that, after three and a half years, we have finally bought a new little scrubbing brush on a stick for the kitchen. *high five* 17p well-spent, I think we'll find.

After the shopping and the smoothie drinking, we went to Ealing to have lunch with Katherine, in honour of her birthday (which is today - HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATHERINE!!!). We sadly were only three, since Helen was still on her plaguey sick bed, however we called her and through the power of the speaker phone, we all got a little chat and she was allowed to share vicariously in the experience of Katherine opening her birthday presents. (HA HA HA WINE COOLER OMG WE'RE SO HILARIOUS!!) After lunch (delish), we plotted Frolickiness for a while (Frolick, people, come and Frolick...), and then Katie and I headed home via the Hammersmith Sainsbury's, have had the spiffing idea of brunch and tea for today. (Mmm, brunch. Mmm, tea.)

Today, I arose at half past ten, and read two more LJ Smith books (I don't even have words, at this point), and then watched The Last Legion (Colin Firth as a Roman soldier...) and Push (Chris Evans as anything and I am there), both of which I enjoyed to a surprising extent. I put half my books on eBay. I made brunch. Katie sorted tea. I made a bastard version of my tomato soup that basically turned into tomato and lentil bol, but whatevs, it's probably nutritious, and that's three days' lunch right there.

Also, I want to check everyone's up to speed with regard to The Great Hair Catastrophe of 2009. I've washed it a few times, and it doesn't seem that much lighter to me, though Katie assures me it is. Head and Shoulders will, I'm sure, do its sacred work - on the second scrubbing, I can feel the chemical tingle in my scalp which is simultaneously comforting (yes! work your magic! strip my stupid, ill-advised hair dye!) and concerning (can Head and Shoulders give you cancer?). Anyway, Katie took a photo. Normally I would not trumpet my shame in this manner... oh, OK, fine, yes I would.

( This way to view my shame... )

So, yes, no words there, really. However, tragically, I must tell you that my piteous existence does not stop there. Many of you will know of my troubled relationship with milk. I cannot deny we have our ups and downs. (For those of you who are new to the world of Me & Milk, the rules are simple. Milk must come from an approved source, namely the major supermarkets of Sainsbury's, Waitrose or Tesco. It cannot have been left unrefrigerated for more than 15 minutes. It cannot be past its sell-by date*. It cannot taste in any way unlike standard homogenised milk. If milk meets these strict criteria, it is my faithful friend, and I will drink it by the gallon. If not, I will scrawl curse upon malediction upon its treacherous plastic body, fling its milk blood down the drain, and throw the remains to the wolves**.) We had new milk recently. Properly delivered, properly containered milk from Sainsbury's. I supervised its arrival myself. It has not broken any rules. And yet, yet, fair reader, I just drank a glassful AND IT TASTED OFF.

I AM SO TRAUMATISED.

*sighs* Nobody understands my pain. Except Helen. We are tiny tragic soulmates.

* Yes, these are a giant con and normally I will eat/drink anything that seems OK regardless of label, but see above re total and irrational milk neurosis.
** Or leave it for Katie and/or the making of cheese sauce/pancakes etc.

I overheard two Australian girls talking on the tube this morning. One of them said she thought the summer was probably over. The other agreed, and said she just hoped they had another nice day for something they were doing. The first one said, yes, and wasn't it something when you had to hope for one nice day in the summer. I laughed a little inside. Welcome to England, my darlings...

In other news, I made a courgette/marrow, tomato and goats cheese quiche (with parmesan and chilli pastry), so that's in the oven at the moment. And, excitingly, I made chicken korma! Properly, from scratch! I've never made a curry or anything before, so it was vee exciting. Tasted OK, though I need to tinker with the spice ratio, and also make sure I use the whole can of coconut milk next time. Still yay and also yum.

In yet more news... well, no way to beat about the bush, poppets. I've been a little bit stupid again. Sit back, and pray allow me to lay the scene.

Many years ago, when the world was bright and young and was but a nubile eighteen year old, I started to dye my hair. I continued this trend faithfully until I was about 25. Come rain or fall, I would be there with my trusty home dye kit. I varied my colours from time to time, but never did I depart the well-beloved spectrum of blonde-auburn-ginger. Time passed, and I came to realise that my hair constantly kept fading to its natural colour in about three minutes without me noticing, and dying it was a bit of a waste of time. And so, I stopped. That were four year ago come Michaelmas-tide.* But darlings, I've been wavering recently. I've missed having the ginger hair of my youth. It grieves me to have a hair colour that cannot be named (so, in fact, I'm blaming all this on

klo_the_hobbit for rubbing it in). And so...

I... I...

No. I can't. I--

IboughthairdyethatwastootootootooredanduseditandnowIlooklikeafuckingpillarboxandIhatemylifeandmyhairandtheworldandI'mneverleavingthehouseeveragain.

Pray for me.**

* Insert Cold Comfort Farm-esque accent here, please.
** Standard disclaimer: not actually.

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chaletian

All My Fic Ever

June 2016

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What is this life if, full of care, we have to get up at arse o'clock in the morning...
Lists of happiness!
"I left my culottes on the underground..."
Things, And more things,
There is no defence against the power of the capslock.
"Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink."
"In countries like China, Hilary Faye probably would have been killed at birth."
"Well of course we talk! Don't everybody?"
"We're looking for other fibres. Special fibres. FIBRES OF CRIME!"
"Quickly, get up, the combine harvester has escaped."
"Now fetch me Wil Wheaton!"
"Without those endorsements, I won't be able to buy my hovercraft."
Food is ace.
"It's hard not to like a guy who doesn't know 'frumpy,' but knows 'onomatopoeia.'"
"You are tearing me APART!"
"Lady Justice wept today."
"Darling. I don't know how to tell you this, but there's a Chinese family in our bathroom."
Jim Kirk is my loverrrrrrrrr...
"I must scream of my pain in the loo!"
"Let us sit upon the floor and tell sad stories..."

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Diary of a Suburban Squeen

Entries tagged with food and cooking and mixing bowls

What is this life if, full of care, we have to get up at arse o'clock in the morning...

Lists of happiness!

"I left my culottes on the underground..."

Things, And more things,

There is no defence against the power of the capslock.

"Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink."

"In countries like China, Hilary Faye probably would have been killed at birth."

"Well of course we talk! Don't everybody?"

"We're looking for other fibres. Special fibres. FIBRES OF CRIME!"

"Quickly, get up, the combine harvester has escaped."

"Now fetch me Wil Wheaton!"

"Without those endorsements, I won't be able to buy my hovercraft."

Food is ace.

"It's hard not to like a guy who doesn't know 'frumpy,' but knows 'onomatopoeia.'"

"You are tearing me APART!"

"Lady Justice wept today."

"Darling. I don't know how to tell you this, but there's a Chinese family in our bathroom."

Jim Kirk is my loverrrrrrrrr...

"I must scream of my pain in the loo!"

"Let us sit upon the floor and tell sad stories..."