Wednesday, 14 November 2018

November

I've got a new job. Praise me, I mean praise be!

I'm so excited. It is a million times better than my current job in every single way. I am genuinely excited to do the work that I will be doing (one of the clients I will be writing for is in my top five favourite brands), whereas currently my day is split evenly between: making tea, drinking tea, staring out of the window, stretching and sighing, and reading recipes online.

Today I have been quite productive actually. I have written a spell to make Boris Johnson fall into a hole. I really feel that it could work. Please feel free to light a candle tonight and incant it in a hoarse whisper like a spooky lunatic.

Jen gave me the idea. In my WhatsApp group with Lauren, Jen and Claire we were all trying not to get worked up about Brexit and Jen said 'I wish Boris would fall into a hole'. And I realised that he SHOULD fall into a fucking hole. He absolutely needs to.

And so I wrote this spell. You never know, it could work! Stranger things have happened. (It doesn't wish him serious harm so I don't think the karmic implications are too dire. Anyway, the shit that Brexit is about to slick across all our lives is dire enough. I think we get a karma pass, don't you?)

WISHING SPELL, WISHING SPELL
GRANT MY WISH
FOR A MAN THATCHED OF HEAD
AND EVIL OF HEART,
WHITE BLOND LIKE ICE
AND THINKS HIMSELF SMART.
I WISH THAT HE FALLS
DOWN A HOLE DARK AND DEEP
NOT SERIOUSLY INJURED
BUT EMBARRASSED AND MEEK
WISHING SPELL, WISHING SPELL
GRANT MY WISH
MAKE BORIS JOHNSON
FALL INTO A HOLE.

On the bright side, Christmas is coming and I am BUZZING for it. I start my new job after Christmas so I am not going to go mad on Lidl's snide Bailey's like I did last year, resulting in streaks of festive acne along both sides of my jaw. But I can still be merry and bright. And maybe Boris Johnson will fall into a hole!!!! We can do it!!!! Visualise it!!!! This video will help.

See you on the other side of Christmas, probably!

Thursday, 6 September 2018

September

Fuck it. I'm writing a blog post from work, I have nothing to do, absolutely nothing to do.

We've moved offices, to the Strand, I'm writing this looking out of a huge wide window, it's great for people watching. And it's so strange, because Mum used to work in Somerset House, when she lived in London and before I was born (obviously). I popped out the other day for lunch to explore the area (we've only been here for a few days) and I was struck with this weird nostalgic feeling, for Mum's lunchtimes. She told me once about going to a local sandwich shop, where she'd eat a weird combination that at the time everyone thought was great (grapes and hummus? I can't remember now) and one of the guys in there took a shining to her, and the old fellers would call him out from the back when she came in, "Your friend's here."

All those lunchtimes of walking up and down the Strand, little did she know that in thirty-odd years her grown-up daughter would be doing the same thing, while she was back up north, living in Another Northern Mill Town, with her son too (he moved in with her this week, to save money for travelling, he's got a one-way ticket to Vietnam and I'm very excited/terrified for him).

I love this window, even if I can mainly see buses going up and down. I can see a couple of theatres too, I won't say which ones in case my ultra determined (and ultra fictional) stalkers are reading.

This job. What the hell is it.

I'm just trying to enjoy having money. Moved in with my boyfriend at the weekend, I live in Walthamstow now, it's in Zone 3 but we've managed to get a two-bedroom flat and it's close to the marshes and wetlands. Every window looks out onto trees, I wonder if they'll turn red and gold soon, or if they'll just drop all their leaves, leaving us our windows all naked and exposed.

My boyfriend was at a stag do in Margate on the weekend we moved in, so I was there on my own, unpacking. The flat looked so spacious with one person's stuff in. On Monday when he brought his stuff over from his friend's house, we realised that I had used up most of the storage, so flat is a bit messy now. Oops.

I was worried about him going on the stag do, to be honest, as he told me about one in the past where they all shot BB guns and someone gave the groom an electric shock. I needn't had worried this time, however. he got there too late to go clubbing on Friday night (they came back at 11pm, all very drunk and tired), everyone slept in and missed the paint-balling they'd booked on Saturday afternoon, then they got to Dreamland just as it was closing. He told me this on the Saturday night on the phone. "What are you going to do then?" I asked, and he said 'mushroom tea'. Someone drank his while he was on the phone to me, so in the end he ordered a pizza and had an early night.

It's funny isn't it, how you can get old with without think you are? I mean, I know I'm not old. But moving in with a boyfriend (Lauren moved in with her boyfriend, by the way) is quite an old thing to do, even if loads of people in London seems to do it as soon as they both move here from uni.

I've been reading my old Left Bank Manc posts, I was literally still a teenager in my mind, thinking I was grown-up because I was in my twenties. LOL. I acted like a child. My spelling was terrible. I did stupid, ridiculous, dangerous things.

It's a shame I haven't been blogging since I moved to London, because it would be nice to look back as a fifty-year-old woman and think 'Wow, I was literally still a teenager in my mind, thinking I was grown-up because I was almost thirty."


Thursday, 28 June 2018

Back to Paz

Sneaky blog post at work!

I am going to Paris tomorrow I am so excited, can’t quite believe it. Haven’t been back for three years. All I want to do is eat bread by the river. I haven’t told the au pair family I will be in Paris, I reckon the kids are too old too care now. Right?

The youngest girl follows me on Instagram so can’t post any pics. Don’t know what to do.

Will worry about it another day. I just want to finish work now, pack and go to bed.

PARIS IT’S BEEN FOREVER!!

I’ve forgotten all my French. Maybe I will collapse under the weight of all the nostagia.

Sunday, 22 April 2018

Time Touchpoint

Ooh is there anything nicer than having a tidy bedroom?

I feel as if I can relax now, and do some blogging.

Yesterday I even did some Big Cleaning Jobs - scrubbed mould of the bathroom ceiling (tied a sports bra round my face and wore sunglasses for protection) and cleaned the bin. I wonder if I don't blog as much now because I have so much more to do?

Nah.

I had a lot to do in Paris too, I just never did it. 

I have been rereading my old posts, from my first year in Paris. Wow, is all I can say about my grammar and spelling. It was very idiosyncratic. It's funny how I used to talk A LOT about how time was flying by, and that I didn't know what to do in the future. Now I feel the same, apart from the future thing. Enough has happened since I moved to Paris almost eight years ago for me to know that the future unfolds itself, one way or another.

Really, I am writing this blog as a little touchpoint for Future Me, as I have found my old blog posts really useful for remembering things.

So right now, it is Marathon Day and the race goes right past my road on the Isle of Dogs, except I've been in Brighton today to see my boyfriend's family, they were having a big get-together. It was hot and sunny, and all of a sudden, when we got down to the seafront after lunch, this thick white mist started rolling in and within minutes the sea, the pier and the hideous viewing tower had completely disappeared.

Back in London, we went for a quick drink round London Bridge, just a half as both of us skint two days before payday (another thing that hasn't changed since the Paris blogs - not being able to keep some money back for the end of the month). I love London Bridge, and in the sunshine it reminded me of auditioning for drama school, I felt that same excitement and old worldly, theatrical atmosphere (completely in my head), and it brought back memories of finding out I hadn't got in anywhere.

We talked about an upcoming holiday to Scotland, we're going after my cousin Chlo's wedding in August. She's got a little girl and is due another next month. Wouldn't have believed it if you've told me when we were disco-dancing in Geneva five or six years ago - I got the coach to see her while she was living there as an au pair.

It's been so sunny in London this week, feels like being on holiday. At lunchtime I've been going to Kensington Gardens as it's close to work, and when I get off the tube at the end of the day everything's lush and green, and the air smells of perfumed trees and heat.

Lauren and I are going to make the most of our summer here, because we're moving out on the last day of August. I'll be moving in with my boyfriend, North London so we're close(ish) to his brother and sister-in-law and his niece and nephew. Lauren isn't sure what's she's doing yet, but after our very successful and stress-free move last summer, she says she isn't too worried.

I can hear birds singing outside, I feel all emotional for no reason really. Had quite a bit of wine at lunch and then half a pint, maybe that's why. Just spoke to my gran on the phone, she is gutted they the M&S in Stockport has closed, I can't believe it either. She knows where all the staff in the cafe are going on to next, it's her favourite place for a coffee. Most of them have been made redundant, the rest are going to other stores. My gran said the big Debenhams is going too. I didn't say this to Gran, but Stockport really gives me the creeps and now it will be a complete shit hole. I feel bad for the town though, it could be so nice. They built a road and a massive bus station over the river. Am I being a London wanker when I say they should have bought cafes and wine bars along it?

Actually I know for a fact all the grannies in Stockport would love to have a coffee along the river, I'm not being a London wanker.

I am a London wanker though. Or I don't know. 

I've started making my own toothpaste, does that make me a wanker? I'm trying to use less plastic.  Lauren said she is going to tell me as soon as my teeth look bad or my breath smells. She's not convinced...

Anyway, I'm going to make a cup of tea and maybe watch Mad Men. I'm only on the third series, and already I want there to be a sequel set in the 1980s, showing us Peggy as a hotshot Creative Director.

Ta-ta!

Ooh, I remember when I used to finish posts off with a nice track, here you go:

Monday, 12 February 2018

Piggy

I come to work early on Mondays, so I can leave early and go to tap.

Tap-tap-tap.

Work is still quite quiet... I hate this feeling in London that you can never relax. I spent so long trying to get a new job and now I've got one, and I'm constantly thinking is this going to be good for me, is this interesting, should I be doing something more interesting?

I've got more money now and I'm worried I shouldn't be spending it, should I be saving it should I be saving up to buy a house even though I don't want one really. I just want to go to India but my boyfriend doesn't want to go so is it ok if I just go to all these places on my own?

Will people think I'm selfish but what if I get run over by a bus and I haven't been to any of the places I wanted to go to.

It's mad isn't it, my problems compared with other people's all over the world. It's kind of disgusting actually. That's why I don't blog anymore.

Enough posts about how I'm going to blog all the time/am never going to blog again.

Something that happened at the weekend. We went to a farm for my boyfriend's neice's birthday. Lee Valley. I saw my name written on a blackboard in a barn - some of you know, my name is not that common and I don't meet people with my name very often (twice in my life in fact).

Anyway I couldn't see what the animal was but when we got closer, it was a huge fat pig lying in the hay. A special pig apparently, an ancient breed. So there you go.

Thursday, 18 January 2018

Good Books I Read This Month

Feel a bit mean about my last post, talking about all the things that can bring you joy in January if you have cash.

I myself am now skint anyway, after forking out for meds yesterday. The doctor said I have an ear infection. That news enough isn't reason to be annoyed, but the same doctor told me before Christmas that it wasn't an ear infection, it was vertigo, and prescribed me some tablets for it. And told me to stop taking the ear spray the walk-in clinic had prescribed me.


At £8.60 a pop, I wish they would be a bit more certain. I had to buy three different things yesterday. I was counting on using that money for drinks this weekend.


Anyway.


My (stolen from Lauren) New Year's Resolution is to read one book a week - and that costs nothing.


So far I've read The Travelling Cat Chronicles by Hiro Arikawa - it's beautiful, but beware, the reviewer quote on the front cover that says it is "Heartbreaking" should be taken as a warning - and now I'm reading a book my boyfriend's mum bought me for Christmas. It's called The Little Paris Bookshop, by Nina George. You've probably heard of it but don't know what it's about, like me before I started reading it.


Let's just say I was surprised at the, ahem, very erotic nature. It is not just a candyfloss-for-your-brain book about Paris and reading. I wonder if Phil's mum nows how rudie it is??

Tuesday, 16 January 2018

Fan of Jan

So my last post was a bit miserable, wasn't it?

I'm actually enjoying January. Yesterday, when I noticed it was (what they're now calling) 'Blue Monday', I realised that I am generally feeling very upbeat about January. I think a bit of subconscious prepping in November and December has helped to make this month quite nice, along with with the sheen of newness that shimmers over cold, crisp mornings, and the wholesome simplicity of not drinking too much booze and sticking to a purse-friendly diet of soup, lentil curries and baked potatoes...

A few months ago I booked myself on to a tap dancing course that started last week. It's amazing. I went to see 42nd Street and was completely taken in by the MAGIC OF TAP-TA-DAH and thought I'd have a look online for local classes... I found one at a community college that was only £80 for 11 weeks of classes (one hour a week). And it turns out Briony has already done the course, so I knew it would be good. (She also lent me her tap shoes.)

I've only had two lessons and already it's my favourite part of the week. My brain is completely focused for an hour, because you have to concentrate on the steps. And it's such a mix of people, coming together, always a bit self-conscious for the first five minutes, and then we all get into it. This week I partnered up with a guy called John while the teacher tried to sort the music out, and we were supposed to practice in pairs. He adds little jumps and jazz hands to all the moves, and he said he's also having jazz singing classes, just because he fancied it.

It's a lot more enjoyable than that crazy ballet class I went to, where the teacher kept asking me difficult questions and getting annoyed. The tap teacher is lovely and when she asks the class the question (she would never ask individuals a question like the bitchy ballet guy), if we're slow to answer she's says "There's no trick questions guys, it's ok."

I've also got trips to the ballet and to Hamilton to look forward to, although the seats I booked at the ballet are actually a bench, they're the cheapest seats I've ever had so we'll see if they're ok or not. I don't mind sitting up in the gods but I'm worried I might have booked seats against a wall behind a pillar or something.

Also cheering me up this month are the gold boots I bought in the sale. I wanted metallic gold boots for about six months, and then I saw a lovely pair in Anthropologie for about a million pounds. I tried to find a cheaper version and came across the Dune ones online - but there still £90. Low and behold on Boxing Day I checked online again and they were £45. I love them. It sounds simplistic but putting them in the morning makes it feel like it's an extra special day.

I've just realised all these things are about money, but what can I say? Only rich people will tell you money won't make you happy. I'm finally on a wage where I can afford to have tap dancing classes, and go to the theatre, and go food shopping whenever I need to, and wear glittery gold boots whenever I like. And it's made January very nice indeed.