Diary of a Suburban Squeen

Bonjour, darlings! Long time, no LJ. I felt the urge to leap upon you all and tell you about all the good things in my life at the moment, because I was just in the kitchen making raspberry jelly and admiring the jars of passata and raspberry jam that Katie's parents brought us and the little box (sadly now empty) of Ladurée macaroons that Kathryn so superly gave me for my birthday, and thinking about how smashing my life is.

1. National Trusting. K and I have had NT membership this year, and I have been to loads of places. Started with going to Polesden Lacey (near Dorking) with K and my mother, when we had an absolutely lovely day. The house was beautiful, ditto gardens, weather was perfect, we had a gorgeous picnic (including fizz), and I bought a tea towel with BEEEEES! On hols in Dorset, we went to Corfe Castle, which (leaving aside the carrot issue) was ace; Kingston Lacy, which is the house the Bankes family built when the Roundheads blew up Corfe Castle; and Mompesson House, which is a lovely, lovely Queen Anne house in the Salisbury cathedral close (I will be living there when not at the Mump; there's even a hut for Nellie). Also been to our local place, Ham House, twice - a brilliant C17th house on the bank of the Thames, just outside Richmond. Then, the other weekend, K and I finally carried out our longstanding plan to go to Hampstead to see 2 Willow Road (a modernist house which is hilariously like going to see a grandparental house rather than NT) and Fenton House (which is where we will live when the revolution comes - lots of alcoves; lovely little gardens; a freakishly huge number of china knick-knacks; lots of aged keyboard instruments). (Also Kenwood House, which is English Heritage but free - a bequest from the Guinness family - very worth a visit.) And finally (so far), a young crowd of us went to Osterley Park last weekend. I do love a house you can walk to from the tube. NT tat bought on these visits include: recycled wool rug (shades of blue and pink, very snuggly, and bargainous at only £12!), a multitude of tea towels (naturally), many souvenir magnets, lots of postcards, and a marrow (later stuffed).

2. I HAVE BOOTS! I bought them yesterday and am super excited because I've wanted some knee-high boots FOREVER but my legs are too short and fat to find any to fit, except NOW I HAVE!!! Sadly, the same boot is not available in brown, which would be the summum bonum, but nevermind, I will take the win.

3. Spent a lovely birthday weekend in Derbys. with my mother and brother. On Saturday we went to York. Popped round the Macarthur Glen place (I bought a le creuset spatula and some tea bags), then went into town and had a smashing lunch at Betty's. Chris ordered us a celebratory bottle of champagne, and then we were given little cakes because they knew it was our birthdays. On Sunday, we did not, alas, have time to visit a castle (any castle), but instead went to an unexpectedly amazing pub/restaurant in Rotherham (I had a Pim Pom to drink - best drink name EVER) and visited Grandma.

4. I whinge about our kitchen being too small, but that is only because of my PRIVILEGE. Actually, it can cram loads of people in when we have a party and everyone gravitates. We have a radio and two boxes of kitchen tapes (things like Noel Coward plays and 30s popular music and Dorothy L Sayers adaptations and Tom Lehrer and Elaine Paige). I have a shelf for all my recipe books, and there's another shelf for porridge. We have space for two sets of saucepans (non-stick and not), and about four sets of crocks, and fifty tea cups and sixty mugs, and a dozen or so melamine mixing bowls, and my everyday scales and K's antique scales, and two pots of utensils, and two racks of spices. I want a four-slice toaster, but we cope with a two-slice. We have a drawer for tea towels. And this month K's dad is going to build us a cupboard under the microwave and extra shelves and it's going to be ACE.

5. I have re-joined FOCS (had a story in the last mag; will have another one in the next), and started to re-collect the GGBP Chalets. Mostly have, actually, except for the super rare ones which I am hoping will be reprinted. Read Clare Mallory's League of the Smallest, which is adorable and everyone should read it.

6. I have a kindle. It's amazing. Super, super amazing. I will be getting rid of loads of books, so watch this space.

7. To contradict point 6, I have bought more books recently. Here is a picture:



8. Been to the theatre a bit. Saw Anne Boleyn twice again at the Globe; also Doctor Faustus, The God of Soho, All's Well That Ends Well, and The Globe Mysteries. Disappointed we couldn't get tickets for Much Ado. Saw the first half of Emperor and Galilean at the National and honestly couldn't stand to stay for the second half. Also saw Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead at the Haymarket, and A Delicate Balance at the Almeida. Going to see A Woman Killed With Kindness at the National in a couple of weeks, also hopefully the new Stephen Poliakoff play at the Almeida. And Matilda when it comes to the West End (MATILDA!!!!).

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.

Ah, the dulcet tones of The Antiques Roadshow, so reminiscent of my youthful Sunday television watching... Not, of course, that I was particularly enamoured of antiques as a teenager, but it was very parental viewing. Personally, I love the old dears who are all "Yes... yes... yes... really... yes... yes..."

Anyway, I come to you exhausted from a day spent largely tidying my room. I have decluttered quite a lot, so I am rather proud of myself. Sadly, however, it has meant that I could not take advantage of the National Trust's (rather poorly advertised) free weekend, which is rather a shame, given how beautiful the weather's been today. Tant pis. Tidy room is more important, because (a) it was a shit tip, and (b) now the weather's nicer, I like to be all fresh and clean.

Yesterday, with a collection of chums, I went to Hampton Court, which was lovely. Katie and I went with the Kings four years ago, but it's different with a small child because you can't focus as well on what you're looking at. Looked at the C17th apartments, and the Tudor bits, and generally wandered around and had a nice time. It closes bizarrely early, though, and I was horrified to discover the "Henry Shop" giftshop had closed! Shock horror! As you may or may not know, my chosen memorabilia is always God's honest tea towel (functional and stylish), and I had, after considerable reflection, chosen the Hampton Court tea towel I wanted to buy. However, Hampton Court has several gift shops scattered about the place, and I didn't want to run the risk of missing a potential tea towel choice owing to an ill-advisedly early purchase. But the gift shops were closing! The horror! What was I to do? Actually, Kathryn and I just ran away to the main shop by the ticket place, which, praise the sweet baby Jee, was still open, so I bought my hilarious King Henry tea towel and all was well. After that, we returned Chez King and had mexican lasagna (yum yum yum) and cake.

However, the most exciting part of yesterday was our bus travel. At lunch time we caught the R68 from Richmond, which was jolly nice, out over the bridge, through Twickenham and Teddington and finally Hampton. And then, oh then, we found we could get the bus home from Kathye's! How exciting is that?! We went to the bus stop just at the end of Kathye's road, caught the bus to Twickenham, and picked up the 33 back to our house! We were home just less than hour after we caught the bus, which, door to door, is about the time it takes on the train! Yay buses! We talked about how exciting this was all the way home. It was hilarious.

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.

Oh, chickie pies, look at this! Nearly February and I’ve hardly shared the fascinating tales of my life with you at all! Actually, it’s a miracle that I’m doing so now, because I had a steroid injection on Tuesday for tendonitis in my wrist and now I am the veriest cripple. Fucking ow is what I said at the time, and I stand by that judgment. Poor darling Katie has had to make dinner twice, now, and make custard (an endeavour barely worth the effort, sadly – fucking Bird’s custard, what’s happened to you?), not to mention practically having to undress me. Oh, it’s been a solemn couple of days at Fangirl Towers.

OK. No. You know us too well. It hasn’t been at all solemn. We have, as ever, been all jokey jokey and then laughy laughy. Good times.

In other news: work is still awesome and still vee busy and I have hopeful hopes of being rebanded up (pay rise!), but we shall see how that goes. Um, what else? Week before last I had a miserable, miserable cold and had to take a couple of days off to cough myself into oblivion in the comfort of my own home. I went to see Helen and hang out round the bus stops at her local Sainsbury’s. Jill came to stay last weekend. We watched quite a lot of TV, topped off by Grease 2, which was a little treat for us all. My brother and his betrothed (lol) are trying to buy a house. My grandmother hid all her money in the safe place, then wrote herself a coded message about the location of the safe place (you can’t say she doesn’t learn from her experiences), then tidied away the coded message, then couldn’t find it. I told her that when she carks it we expect to find the house stuffed full of money and lost Christmas presents past. It’ll be a riot.

Speaking of riots, it’s that time of the year again. ‘What time is that?’ I hear you cry. Wrestling time. Oh yes. Once again, Emma and I are heading to Wembley to watch men ‘wrestle’ (as I have said (humorously) before, ‘I’ve not seen anything that choreographed since I was last at Sadlers Wells!’*). So, that will be fun**. Additionally, this year we apparently have tickets to meet the wrestling stars beforehand. It’s going to be a tough job, trying to stop Emma from molesting AJ Styles, but I will not shirk my duty.

And finally, a small treatise on the 493 bus route. The 493 bus route, for those not familiar with it, goes from Manor Circus in Richmond, past our house, through Roehampton, Putney Heath, Southfields, past Wimbledon (the tennis club), Wimbledon (the village), Wimbledon (the actual town bit with the station), finally shopping up at St George’s Hospital in Tooting (where I work). In terms of my commute, it is very handy. Less handy, however, are ALL THE FUCKING CHILDREN! Oh my God! The 493 is also essentially a school bus route, as it seems to go past half the schools in south west London. And those children… they just clutter up the front of the bus, deaf and blind to the increasingly fervent announcements demanding that they move down the bus, just staring ahead with the kind of ovine malevolence that you know I deplore. I want to blow them all up, frankly. Tragically, that is unlikely to happen. Especially with my dodgy wrist. I weep for the future of our nation, darlings. I weep.




* A lie for comic effect: I have never been to Sadlers Wells.

** Also a lie.

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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.

♥ 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.

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.