I had dinner with Leanne last night at Muang Thai on Hanover Street. After my holiday stories and Leanne's great news around her job (and, of course, a totally cool update on all the new things baby Ella can do since I saw her last), Leanne confessed that she'd recently checked Jen & Gary's blog.
You may remember Jen & Gary as the couple I slated in one of my previous entries. At the time, Leanne and I had a good old bitch about Jen and how pathetic she was. That was before Leanne read their blog in its entirety and informed me that they were struggling to conceive and Jen really wanted fertility treatment but Gary said she had to get a job first.
We went from feeling sorry for Gary having to put up with her, to agreeing that he probably got some sick pleasure from encouraging this in her. Poor Jen!
Anyway, last night I found out (from Leanne) that they are going for the fertility treatment. "How lovely!" I said. "I hope he never leaves her."
"So do I," Leanne agreed, "but I suspect he probably will." I nodded in quiet agreement.
"But," said Leanne, "by that time she may have her baby and the dogs she loves, and be perfectly content without Gary"
"I think that might be the Nirvana an increasing number of women are searching for," I said having read an article on this a while ago. "Kinda like 'I love you, thank you, goodbye'."
Getting back to the subject of lovely togetherness, congratulations to Careth & Mark who got engaged a few weeks ago. Luckily, Mark got a very good review in my blog. I will encourage them to start up a 'Careth & Mark' blog where they can update their readers, much in the same way as Jen & Gary do, on home improvements, weeding the garden, lime-squeezing and other lovey-dovey stuff. Oooh, oooh, oooh, maybe they'd be up for a transatlantic 'wife-swap' for a TV special. Yes, I think it just might work.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
ok so, Hong Kong was good
Part 1
On Friday 1st September, I got up at the frightful time of 05:45. My flight wasn't until 1pm, but I had some copywriting to do for a dearly valued client. I finished it, emailed it and shutdown the laptop just in time to dance around to Scissor Sisters on Radio Two.
Now, last year I went to Mexico with 14 pairs of shoes, 8 books (2 hardbacks) and a clothes mountain the European Union could have used to dress the entire population of Bosnia (though they do seem to prefer those 80's numbers. I remember seeing some Bosnian refugees on a news item one night and mistook it as confirmation that the cast of FAME were reuniting). My case weighed in at 32kg. It was not something I wanted to repeat this year. So, I packed only 3 pairs of shoes, 1 book, and a small selection of clothes that I conceded would render me neither well nor properly dressed. My case weighed in at 26kg. How disappointing! So much sacrifice and still classified as 'heavy'. It seems packing has more in common with dieting than I'd previously realised (or, indeed, ever thought about).
At the airport my case was labelled orange and 'heavy', and we were on our way. After a short wait in London, we were Hong Kong bound. I looked down at my boarding pass where it had the words 'world traveller' after my name. How very appropriate; it sent me into a state of acute giddiness. Of course, 'world traveller' is British Airways' way of saying 'plebian, economy, schemie, steerage girl', but it is definitely a nicer way of saying it and I felt good about myself as I adjusted my slightly longer-than-average femora into my incredibly cramped seat.
Five hours into the flight my ankles felt funny. Kinda, well, ... tight. I got up to do some exercises at the back of the plane where I discovered that my ankles had in fact swelled to three times their normal size. They were sore and movement was limited, and I felt like a candidate on 'Diet Doctors'.
I fell asleep on the way from the airport to the hotel (most probably avec ma bouche ouvrez-vous) and was reliably informed that we'd crossed the longest road and rail carrying suspension bridge in the world (Tsing Ma Bridge). Upon arrival at the Hotel on Kowloon, I whipped off my clothes, put my PJ's on and snuggled into bed. Waking up some four hours later, I was stunned by the size of my ankles. I swear to God, with a pair of American Tan tights and some brogues I would have passed as an 80 year old. My comments met with agreeable laughter.
In Part Two
How will our heroine cope with fankles?
Why are the Hong Kongers so fascinated with her 'temples'?
and will she get a decent cup of tea?
Stay tuned!
On Friday 1st September, I got up at the frightful time of 05:45. My flight wasn't until 1pm, but I had some copywriting to do for a dearly valued client. I finished it, emailed it and shutdown the laptop just in time to dance around to Scissor Sisters on Radio Two.
Now, last year I went to Mexico with 14 pairs of shoes, 8 books (2 hardbacks) and a clothes mountain the European Union could have used to dress the entire population of Bosnia (though they do seem to prefer those 80's numbers. I remember seeing some Bosnian refugees on a news item one night and mistook it as confirmation that the cast of FAME were reuniting). My case weighed in at 32kg. It was not something I wanted to repeat this year. So, I packed only 3 pairs of shoes, 1 book, and a small selection of clothes that I conceded would render me neither well nor properly dressed. My case weighed in at 26kg. How disappointing! So much sacrifice and still classified as 'heavy'. It seems packing has more in common with dieting than I'd previously realised (or, indeed, ever thought about).
At the airport my case was labelled orange and 'heavy', and we were on our way. After a short wait in London, we were Hong Kong bound. I looked down at my boarding pass where it had the words 'world traveller' after my name. How very appropriate; it sent me into a state of acute giddiness. Of course, 'world traveller' is British Airways' way of saying 'plebian, economy, schemie, steerage girl', but it is definitely a nicer way of saying it and I felt good about myself as I adjusted my slightly longer-than-average femora into my incredibly cramped seat.
Five hours into the flight my ankles felt funny. Kinda, well, ... tight. I got up to do some exercises at the back of the plane where I discovered that my ankles had in fact swelled to three times their normal size. They were sore and movement was limited, and I felt like a candidate on 'Diet Doctors'.
I fell asleep on the way from the airport to the hotel (most probably avec ma bouche ouvrez-vous) and was reliably informed that we'd crossed the longest road and rail carrying suspension bridge in the world (Tsing Ma Bridge). Upon arrival at the Hotel on Kowloon, I whipped off my clothes, put my PJ's on and snuggled into bed. Waking up some four hours later, I was stunned by the size of my ankles. I swear to God, with a pair of American Tan tights and some brogues I would have passed as an 80 year old. My comments met with agreeable laughter.
In Part Two
Stay tuned!
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
"Bollocks" ...
... is what I said when I got off the phone from Emergency 5. Apparently, my laptop has "motherboard trouble". Even I knew this was bad news. The advice is to get a new laptop. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.
Monday, September 25, 2006
The World Traveller returneth
Hello. I am in a state of lovely, yummy bliss. I got back to Edinburgh last week and have been walking on a cloud ever since. Hmmmm, niceness.
Unfortunately, my laptop has decided that it doesn't like me quite so chilled-out and has wantonly caught some nasty computer virus, now informing me that it plans to remain shut-down for the purpose of self-protection. Surely, as the owner of said laptop, it's for me to decide whether or not it should be protected? Have I done such an awful job taking care of it, that it has had to take matters into its own cursors? Anyway, as a result, I'm writing this from work. Naughty.
Last week was mostly spent working and sleeping. As a rule, I'm never in bed before midnight, but since returning from holiday I've enjoyed some marathon slumber sessions. On Monday, I retired at 3pm and slept until 6am on Tuesday. On Thursday, I was snuggled up by 8:30pm and on Friday by 9pm. Now, this is good in the sense that I resolved to get more sleep as part of my spa journey - rethink my life sessions, but bad in the sense that I'm not 90. I think there's room for a bit of balance here.
I also vowed to obliterate the following things from my life: CSI (in all its ghastly forms); Air Crash Investigation/Seconds from Disaster (No, the fact that it's on National Geographic does not mean it is a positive force in your life); Columbo (What is wrong with you? You've seen them all twice anyway) and Deal or No Deal (No Deal Noel - unless it's one of the episodes with the rumored jackpot winners).
This should - in theory - leave me with plenty of time in which to update my blog and work on the book. Annoyingly, the laptop isn't playing ball, but I'll still be sure to detail all the best bits from my trip (yes, even the really embarrassing stuff - cringe, cringe).
Unfortunately, my laptop has decided that it doesn't like me quite so chilled-out and has wantonly caught some nasty computer virus, now informing me that it plans to remain shut-down for the purpose of self-protection. Surely, as the owner of said laptop, it's for me to decide whether or not it should be protected? Have I done such an awful job taking care of it, that it has had to take matters into its own cursors? Anyway, as a result, I'm writing this from work. Naughty.
Last week was mostly spent working and sleeping. As a rule, I'm never in bed before midnight, but since returning from holiday I've enjoyed some marathon slumber sessions. On Monday, I retired at 3pm and slept until 6am on Tuesday. On Thursday, I was snuggled up by 8:30pm and on Friday by 9pm. Now, this is good in the sense that I resolved to get more sleep as part of my spa journey - rethink my life sessions, but bad in the sense that I'm not 90. I think there's room for a bit of balance here.
I also vowed to obliterate the following things from my life: CSI (in all its ghastly forms); Air Crash Investigation/Seconds from Disaster (No, the fact that it's on National Geographic does not mean it is a positive force in your life); Columbo (What is wrong with you? You've seen them all twice anyway) and Deal or No Deal (No Deal Noel - unless it's one of the episodes with the rumored jackpot winners).
This should - in theory - leave me with plenty of time in which to update my blog and work on the book. Annoyingly, the laptop isn't playing ball, but I'll still be sure to detail all the best bits from my trip (yes, even the really embarrassing stuff - cringe, cringe).
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