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Showing posts from July, 2010

All up in my nose.

I love wasabi peas. I thought I'd take this time to wax lyrical about my love for said spicy dried legumes. Well, my love for all wasabi-coated snacks. And sushi is basically just a vehicle for the lovely green stuff. And you don't have enough mixed with the soy sauce unless the heat goes right up your nose. That's perhaps enough about wasabi. This has been a pretty busy week so far. (I'm probably a little too puerile for 30 years old, because when I typed "far" just then, I accidentally added a "t" at the end and had a good giggle before I corrected my spelling.) I'm still nesting at Heathrow Express, and if you know me at all, you know that nesting in a new office means cleaning out every cupboard and drawer in the building. The post room is almost done, and I've got my eye set on the cupboard next to the front door now. I've changed storage around, I've trashed and archived an inordinate amount of currently unnecessary pape

Himself-less.

(No, it's not one of my cats, but it's too perfect for this post to pass up.) This weekend, I will admit, was marvellous. On Saturday, I didn't wake up until past ten o'clock in the morning. I was brought coffee and peanut butter toast in bed. I lazed with a book, I faffed with the moggies, I luxuriated in the lack of activity. If you'll recall, Himself was leaving that day for his "not a stag do" do. I left the house around half noon, before he had to leave, and headed for central London. I went to the wholesale jewellery shop and bought more headbands for my Etsy offerings, I window shopped to my heart's content, and I spent an inordinate amount of time (and a fair amount of money) in the haberdashery department at John Lewis. Throughout all of this was the gratifying knowledge that it didn't matter how long I dallied (or dillied, for that matter) because there was no bored man in attendance. I went home via the shops and picked up dinner fo

Fabulous Friday Frivolity.

Okay, one and all, sit back and relax for this week's installment of FFF. My five happy things for the week are as follows: 1. I have a logo! My graphic design mate has finished the gabymade avatar, and the shop will be up and running in short order. Everyone, meet Olive. She's cute, she's kitsch, she's versatile yet simple. In short, she's perfect. I can't wait to get her properly installed on Etsy. Now all I have to do is sort a banner and we're off! 2. I took a page out of Silly Sock's diary and bought... wait for it... a ukelele! It's tiny and yellow and I fully intend to master it and carry it around with me for impromptu sing-alongs. I should start number three, that's how momentous the next piece of news is, but as it's related I'll allow them to share a spot... it came with a harmonica. *grin* Great for tuning the uke, even better for impersonating Blues Traveler or pretending I'm four again and running around the h

What's green, white, and wobbly all over?

That's right, folks, that was me at the weekend. Although, I'm wobbly all over all the time, so maybe I should have left that part out as it doesn't pertain specifically to the weekend... nah, I'll leave it in, it rings true. I know I missed my FFF on Friday. Please accept my humble apologies, and the forthcoming explanation. Not excuse, mind you. Explanation. Okay, excuse. I'm sick. Properly sick. I came home from work on Friday coughing my head off (although not literally, it's fairly firmly attached), and attributed it to having been on my hands and knees with the hoover in the post room. Woke up Saturday morning realising that the potent post room dust/toner combo was just a coincidence, and that I was actually sick. This meant I had to cancel going round a workmate's house to teach her sixteen year old daughter how to use her new sewing machine, which I was REALLY looking forward to, and had the extra added bonus of letting her down to make me fe

Nightmares and piratical goodies.

I know, weird one, but that's what kind of a week it's been. The family arrived as previously discussed, and as Himself and I get up pretty early to leave for work, we gave them our bedroom and slept in the living room floor on the air mattress. I say slept... Himself didn't, really. I swear, that man's the gender-challenged reincarnation of the Princess plagued by the infamous legume. He said it was too "lumpy", and attempted to sleep on the couch last night. I know from personal experience that our battered (slightly moggie-shredded) sofa is highly uncomfortable, so he didn't fare too well in his endeavour. I find the air mattress fairly comfortable, myself. Of course, there's the slight issue with my subconscious. I have (as previously discussed) an extremely active nocturnal mind, and apparently the change in sleeping arrangements triggered some strangeness. The first night on the air mattress, I dreamed I was playing a piano (an upright, in

Minutia and mountains of sewing.

If you can't tell what I did with my weekend, check the title. A girlfriend at work had a seriously dwindling wardrobe due to slight rips and tears in the majority of her clothes, so I forcibly wrested them from her (slightly embarrassed) grasp and merrily carted them home to stitch them to health. This meant that I had the impetus to delve into my own mountain of damaged clothing (easily three times as much as what she'd sent home with me) and also meant I had no excuse but to hem the previously discussed curtains. I also... wait for it... got out the ironing board. That's right, folks, those curtains needed pressing before they could go back up (I am my grandmother's granddaughter, after all) and then I had no reason not to continue on pressing everything I'd not hung up in the wardrobe due to the fact it needed ironing. Much productivity was witnessed... well, in me, anyway. Himself spent the time lounging on the sofa watching the World Cup. I watched too, m

Fabulous Friday Frivolity.

And here we are at another FFF post. This week, I am actually going to stick to my own rules and do it proper-like. Here we go. 1. I had a very (very) satisfying shopping spree on asos.com this week. I know, completely irresponsible and frivolous (and female), but if it means I get wooden shoes I just don't care. *grin* That's right, friends, I am now the proud owner of the first pair of clogs I've owned since I was a teenager. They are clompishness at its best, and I love them. 2. I've got family coming to stay! I haven't seen my (ridiculously removed to the -nth degree) cousin in I honestly couldn't say how long. She and her husband took a trip to Africa and then are meandering back to the States via a slightly circuitous route through England, hence will be staying in the Gabs house for two nights starting Monday. I like having family around, even of the wildly removed variety, and it doesn't happen often. So, yay! 3. I've been swimming e

Tummy bugs and clean carpets.

I was the lucky recipient of the 24 hour stomach bug floating around Himself's offices on Saturday. Woke up fine, accepted delivery of the carpet cleaning machine I'd arranged earlier in the week, started the living room while Himself struggled bravely on through his own dose of sickishness, and (thankfully) only started feeling really ill once I'd finished. That said, I was only really feeling the effects for about six hours. Six of the longest hours of my life. *lol* I took a (very) long bath, then once things calmed down I ate a (very) little dinner and slept for a (very) long time. By Sunday, I was close to right as rain. Plus, I got to wake up to a clean smelling living room, and the carpets feel seriously lovely on bare feet now. The cats? Not pleased. Not pleased at all. They spent rather a lot of time cowering in the bedroom with Himself while I sweated and swore over the machine in the living room, and have since insisted upon spending inordinate amounts o

That's how we roll.

So, I missed Friday's FFF. I'll apologise, but let me explain. Friday was the office move I've been planning since I started at Heathrow Express six weeks ago. It wasn't packing up the office and moving to another building, it was simply (you'd think, anyway) moving a few people to different desks within the existing floor plan. It was arranged that way because it meant we didn't have to pay the movers to completely reconfigure the desks, and it achieved the result the Commercial Director (my boss) wanted with the least amount of kerfuffle. Or so you'd think. Now, to me, a desk is a desk. The people I'm near might not be my best friends in the world, but I have a job to do and I physically am capable of performing it from wherever I'm plunked down. Apparently I'm alone in this capability. I held a meeting in my second week on the job to give the people involved a chance to choose where they wanted to be within the limits set by my boss, and