Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Busman's Holiday

Very briefly, because my stomach is demanding more mango. Went to the mall yesterday with N and his wife H, looked at various things including perfume, I wanted to get sister-in-law something for being so lovely. Girl serving was pushing DKNY for me onto a gentleman who clearly didn't think it was up to much. After awhile I butted in and suggested he might like to try a Calvin Klein fragrance. He wanted it to hide the smell of his smoking habit and he need it to be a fairly robust and fresh fragrance. Of course I had to put in my tuppence worth.

Boy tells me afterwards as we're drifting off to sleep that I was showing off. I suspect he was right.

I'm going to work on keeping shtum.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Tropical Hellos

Greetings from the tropics. Boy and I survived the coach trip down from Norwich to Gatwick. We basically stayed up all day Friday, and believe it or not I was actually ready to go an hour before the taxi came to pick us up! We left Norwich at 1.40 am and I foolishly had vague hopes of being able to sleep on the coach. Hah! When you've got a man sawing logs right behind you and another making horsey noise on the other side, you've really got no hope.

Gatwick was filled with stroppy people pushing their luggage like they were offensive weapons. That was completely fine by me. I hadn't had any proper sleep for 24 hours so I was in the right frame of mind to make my way back and forth between coffee and checkin. Unfortunately, the security offical had to make up her tick boxes so we pretty much had to strip down to our undies before they let us through. What amazed me is that every 5 mins there's a security announcement telling passengers exactly what they can take through, there are people dressed in bright yellow t-shirts handing out plastic bags for stuff you can take onto the plane...and there are arguments in the security queues. They are huge wheelie-bins full of perfume, deoderants, toothpastes, moisturisers, lipsticks and drinks bottles.

I'm shocked by the fact that the flight was on time. Not only that, but it was relatively pleasant, some screaming babies, but not overly bothersome. The food was tasty, the coffee hot. The landings were fine (I gave them a 7.5, Boy thought it deserved an 8). I was able to negotiate an earlier flight for the island hopper, which really is a ropey arrangement. Again, that was fine, hardly any turbulence and brilliant views of the rainforests in the Northern Range of the Trinidad.

Not too bad a deal considering there's a hurricane stomping around the Caribean at the moment. A lovely fellow by the name of Dean, left about 7 people dead and at last count was a force 5. It's very unlikely he'll come visiting, Trinidad is just below the hurricane belt, Tobago is more likely to cop it if he heads south. I think he stomped over Jamaica yesterday. Hopefully, having spent his fury there he'll burn himself out in the Caribbean Sea.

As far as family stuff is concerned, not much to report. My brother is adamant there's nothing much to do at the moment. Until the will is probated, we can't really do anything and so all the work I was envisaging having to do, has just disappeared. So this has turned into a holidayWe scatter Pop's ashes on Saturday in the same area that my mum was scattered and there will be a few members of family and friends around. Think of us then.

Apart from the jet lag, we're really well. I'll try not to rub in the joy of being back in a hot, Tropical climate. I won't go on about walking into the garden and picking mangoes for breakfast, having fresh avocados from the tree, freshly made passion fruit juice, or the warm weather. Cause that would be cruel.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Leavin on a Jet Plane

No doubt my Viking will tell me off, but I hardly think that one of you blog readers would raid my flat while I'm gone. If for some reason you are tempted, I have got people guarding the most precious cat, but I really would appreciate it if you could water the plants for me, inside and out. Pushing the hoover round will earn you lots of brownie points, as would doing the large pile of laundry I have quite got round to doing yet. Many thanks goes to Britswitch for keeping the cat company and to Gee's boys.

One of the many joys of going out with a policeman is the hours of home security advice. For some reason leaving my front door key under the flower pot by said door is verboten. I now shut my windows when I go out, despite the fact that I live in a first floor flat and my elderly neighbours (with whom I share the window cleaner) are perpetually vigilant. So you see, good sense is rubbing off on me, just very slowly. I still leave my front door open so the cat can sit on the doorstep and glare at the postman.

The other joy is a fuzzy, half-awake conversation while we're both in bed at 7.30 in the morning. Not very strange there you say, hardly worthy of a mention. However, it is when you consider, he's just done a full-night's work, I'm wishing him sweet dreams, he's saying he hopes I slept well, and I'm about to get up to face the day.

Anyway, I'd better get on I've got 17 To Dos that should have been done yesterday, that will have to be done before the end of business today. I'm not sure how much internet access I'll have, so things may go queit for awhile. I'll miss you, will try and send a post card.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Pink Floyd - One of These Days

It just so totally rocks.

How to Waste Time by a Professional Procrastinator

I have acquired two new obsessions. They manage to eat away quite a lot of my time, which, considering the stuff that I really should be getting on with, is a bit silly. Boy and I sat down and wrote the To Do List which has 17 items, which I must do before Saturday. The items vary between Very Important and Urgent and so far today I've done 1 thing. I really can Procrastinate for England, it is slightly ridiculous.

A few weeks ago, Boy bought Oblivion for his XBox 360. It's a fantasy role-playing game. It's stunning. I'm a dark-elf, encased in armour wandering around Cyrodiil, a province of Tamriel doing quests. I get to beat people up, explore caves, go swimming with slaughter-fish, ride a dappled horse, swing my sword around, gamble, drink and generally create mayhem. I have been tasked with saving the heir to Tamriel, but quite frankly with everything else I've got going on at the moment, I'm procrastinating that quest too. OMG, I procrastinate virtually as well!

Unfortunately, Boy has bought the Transformers game today. Humpf. Up until today, I could interrupt his game, have a go on Oblivion for an hour or so, and then we'd just swap around. Now I have to beg, plead, cajole and threaten. Double humpf.

I was thinking back on last summer and how much I was worrying about my baby growing up. It's funny, I look across at my Boy and I see a young man now. This year he left his childhood behind and entered with confidence the world of a teenager, a far more dangerous and scary place. He's settled into high school and works hard, he avoids trouble and seems to have good, positive friendships. I see the man to come and am exceptionally proud. His sense of humour is so dry and sarcastic; he just creases me up; I really enjoy his company.

I've also discovered the joys of Facebook. I know people have said that all kinds of nasties can creep out of the woodwork, but I've found myself to be nasty-free. Besides, you don't have to accept people you don't want. It's got these really fun applications that you can add to your page at the moment I've been wasting time with the iLike application. I've been loading up clips and videos of my favourite music and making soppy dedications to my Viking. It just eats time. But it's so much fun. By the way, if you want to be my virtual friend, drop me an e-mail and I'll add you. I'll buy you virtual beer, fish for your acquarium, flowers for your garden and we can compare music tastes. Just think, we can procrastinate together.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Why I don't need any more Perfume...

It's getting a bit silly. I've got on my dressing table -

Allure by Chanel
Addict 2 by Dior
Rush 2 by Gucci
Classique by Jean Paul Gaultier
Stella by Stella McCarteny
Rocks by Ralph Lauren
for her by Narcisso Rodriguez

so, it's not like I lack choice for scent. In fact, given that the shelf life of a perfume is generally 2 years unopened and 6 months once opened, there really isn't any way I can use up all I've got.

So tell me, why is it I'm beginning to look compare prices of fragrances to see whether it'll be cheaper for me to get some fragrance in duty free, rather than through work. Hermes have a new(ish) fragrance called Un Jardin en Mediterranee, catchy name don't you think? It's described as a walk through a dappled mediteranian garden, suitable for men and women. I think it's a fresh scent with a touch of sharpness which makes it really yummy.

It's a toss up between that and Calvin Klien's CKIN2U which is a lovely fresh fragrance, I did a review on it here. It's not hideously expensive and it lasts well. I've preferred it to many of this season's summer fragrances, which I've found a bit limp and disappointing.

Well, I might not need any more perfume, but I sure as hell want it.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Wedding Blitz

I spent the weekend in Cambridge at the Viking's cousin's wedding. To say I was a little bit nervous at meeting the rest of his clan, is like saying the sea is a little bit wet. The Viking and I have been together nearly 9 months which is a bit of a shock, considering it's been pain-free, fun and easy as Sunday morning and this was the first family event I'd been to. His immediate family are lovely and I really like his parents, I got to meet his older brother and fiancee this weekend as well as the whole clan. Boy was safely ensconced with his dad.

In a way, this wedding was a complete contrast to Alix's wedding. It was a civil ceremony, followed by photos on the grounds in the fabulous sunshine, with food served by serious waiting staff. The bride looked fabulous, the groom as if all his Christmases had come at once. The bridesmaids were gorgeous and ranged in age 2 - adult, in dresses that suited their colouring and looked fabulous. Unfortunately, I didn't take an evening outfit with me, so while everyone else got changed into more relaxed, groovy gear, I was still in my dress of the afternoon. But the Viking stayed in his suit to keep me company, only taking his jacket off to boogie with me. Not only that, but he earnt several brownie points for sorting out several clothes-related disasters with safety pins.

This morning we mooched around Cambridge. I'm not sure how good an impression I made on his brother as he caught me singing Dancing in the Streets in the corridors of our digs last night and singing C is for Cookie to the Viking in the middle of the Sunday market this morning.

All in all, it was a lovely weekend. A bit poignant, because next weekend Boy and I fly out to Trinidad again. We go to scatter Pop's ashes and sort out any remaining stuff. It seems really strange to be going out there, knowing this is the first time that my primary parents won't be there waiting for us. Truth be known, I've been trying not to think about it. Funny isn't it? How much ever you try and hide stuff, it always seems to seep out and bite you on the arse. But it's a time for families. And I've missed my brother and his family. It'll be good to see them and catch up on their news.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Recovery Position

Today, I'm recovering from the Day From Hell. I'm sat here in my PJs, drinking coffee and painting my nails, which is an interesting experience when your hands shake as much as mine do at the moment. Coffee is my vice of choice this morning and having bright, sparkly red nails may not fix my current dilemmas, it will remind me that I'm a determined and sexy woman. Even if I do feel green around the edges.

Dear readers, I have many faults, quite a few vices, and have made many mistakes. I own them all. Some I try not to over indulge in, some I do not repeat, some I have overcome. Unfortunately, the one thing I have never been able to master is my inability to shut up. It meant I had to leave a proper job, it means I'm not good working in office politics, it means that I dislike game-playing, dishonesty and mind-fucks. I can see that there are circumstances where the ability to shut up would be useful, indeed desirable. I unfortunately, am unable to do so.

There are some advantages with this disability. It means that people always know where they stand with me and I am trustworthy. The disadvantages include being labelled a biatch and unemployment.

I realise that as I'm unable to overcome this heinous disability, I will need to grow a much thicker skin, perhaps I need to learn the ability to walk away sooner. I've even begun thinking of applying laziness to things I need to learn. Perhaps doing nothing is the way forward?


One of the things which went wrong yesterday was work. My manager went for staff training and came back with the following diktats from on High.

Retail assistants on the shop floor must:
not wear jeans (fair enough)
chew gum (again no problem)
no bare midriffs (no chance of me showing mine off)
and no piercings (oh shit).

I have a small, round, flat nose stud. I have had it for the past 10 years and I don't take it out. Taking it in and out is not a brilliant idea. It stretches the skin around the piercing further, it introduces the increased possibility of infection and the possibility of it healing over leaving a scar. The other solutions I was given, was to wear a round, flesh coloured plaster over the piercing. I have very sensitive skin and plaster adhesive brings me out in a red rash. So no that's not an option.

I've really enjoyed working there. My colleagues are brilliant. The work is fun. The only real downside is that the money is shite. This new diktat has made me realise that it's time for me to start job hunting again. Which is a shame, I like the flexibility and variety of the work. But there you go.

Last night Gee came over and we had a long, long chat about life, the universe and everything. It was good to get a different perspective on things. Her advice was to ignore it and it will go away. My Boy and Viking have been giving me loads of support and cuddles, for which I'm very grateful. I think I'll ignore it and look for another job.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

Cheese Fondue

Thanks to Sanddancer for making me think about cheesey tunes. For instance: what's the fine line between outright awfulness and cheese? What would make you stone the DJ, or dance happily to it at a wedding.

6 Tracks I'd stone the DJ:

Especially for you - Kylie & Jason
Barbie Girl - Aqua
Agadoo - Black Lace
Cotton Eye Joe - Rednex
I drove all Night - any version
My Heart Will go on - Celine Dion

6 Tracks I'd drunkenly dance to:

Nights in White Satin - Moody Blues
The Rose - Bette Midler
Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler
D.I.S.C.O - Ottowan
Never Gonna Give you up - Rick Astley
The Macarena - Los Del Rio

I could go on, but I'd rather you did. Come on, be brave...let your inner cheese go and share your top favourites and pet hates with us all. I promise we won't mock...much! :-)

Friday, August 03, 2007

Been Awhile

Apologies for the long silence. I've been oop North with the Viking and his family and there was much running about upon my return. Unfortunately, due to his generous nature, I've now got a cold, so all running aroung has now stopped as I indulge in feeling bleugh.

The good thing is that I've had a chance to read and review a book. I've popped my thoughts on the subject on my sister site. It's the first time I've done a book review and I'd appreciate the feedback. Also, if you've read something recently, brilliant or dire, feel free to do the same.

Boy has come back from his dad's early. His grandad did some serious injury to his tendon, so much so that he's needed an op. Boy was just on the phone to him, and he's on the mend. Or will be as long as he keeps off the leg.

One of the things I'm discovering about my Boy, is that he has patience. Obvioulsy, he's needed this virtue when dealing with me and my dramas. Over the Spring, both he and my Viking have been bonding over Transformers. They've been eagerly downloading, watching trailers, going ooo and aaahhh and debating over plot, character etc. They bought tickets to go and see the preview showing for the day after Alix's wedding. Please note, they didn't buy me one, but graciously said that I could come along if I wanted and was quiet.

Unfortunately, both Boy and I had forgotten that the ExH was picking him up stupid o'clock Sunday morning to take him to the Holkham Game Fair. Obviously time with the ExH is sacrosanct and he had to go. Apparently that's when his grandad wrecked his leg trying to push a car out of the mud. Boy said the fair wasn't up to much being soggy, expensive and same old mix of country clothing stalls, displays and food sold from caravans. When he came back, the movie was not playing yet and he had to wait a week before general release. I did go see it with Viking and I'm under the threat of pain of death to reveal nothing. We arranged to try again at an early showing Friday morning. As we were just about to leave the house ExH rings and asks to come over. Grandad has been admitted to A&E for his leg, can he come over and wait at ours: which meant no Transformers.

Boy turned up unexpectedly on Wednesday and unfortunately, I've come down with a nasty bug thing and quite frankly, if I'm not well enough to go to work, I'm not well enough for movies. Not to mention that I'd be terrified at being seen. Norwich is a small place. So depending on how I feel I'll take him to see Transformers on Sunday morning.

If he hasn't self-immolated by then.