Beautiful Blogger?

Lots of thanks to the lovely Anything Fits a Naked Man for giving me this award. I'm not sure exactly how beautiful either myself or this blog really are but I do love me a compliment. I'm supposed to list seven interesting things about myself and then tag seven other bloggers. My problem is this: I've been writing in this blog now for almost 18 months. I've done a few of these 'interesting facts' lists now and I'm not sure how many things there are left to tell, aside from TMI things that noone needs to hear. (FYI, buy me a large gin 'n' tonic and I'll tell you as many TMI things as your heart desires). Let's see what I can come up with...

1) I fear window cleaners. Not as a general rule, you understand. No, I only fear windowcleaners if I'm in the room of which they are cleaning the windows. Example: I was sitting at my desk this morning, happily minding my own business, obsessively checking Twitter/drinking green tea/avoiding work. All of a sudden the top of a ladder appears at the window. The Fear begins. The window cleaner climbs the ladder, merrily sloshing his bucket of water about, squeegee in hand. And then it happens. We make eye contact. I spend the next ten minutes not knowing where to look. Awkwardness pervades my every movement. I blush for no reason at all. That is why I fear window cleaners.

2) I cannot use the toilet at work if someone else is in another cubicle. I have no idea why. I just can't do it. Call it stage fright. Call it being a girl and not wanting anyone to know that I wee. Call it whatever you like. It all boils down to the fact that I am a giant freak.

3) I was once held at knife point at a bus stop in Nottingham. On the same street I also once saw a man waving a gun about. Both of these things may give you a clue as to why I left Nottingham.

4) I get extremely upset when I hear about animal cruelty or abuse of the elderly. If I know there's going to be a news story about it I usually switch off as I'd just rather not know. I find it very hard to forget things that upset me like that and I regularly cry at the news. Sometimes thinking about the world that we live in makes me terribly sad. For the most part though I'm a very chipper person and I genuinely see the wonderful things that exist, rather than the awful.

5) I cannot think about what happens when you die (not that I think about it often) without my brain hurting. Similarly, I find it hard to think about what would happen if the world ended. Who would know it had ended? What would there be? See? BRAIN OUCH.

6) I have never seen Gladiator. Apparently this is shocking. See also Cocktail, Braveheart, Die Hard, The Godfather. Until I met C I'd also never seen Ghostbusters.

7) My favourite song in the whole world is 'You Got the Love' by Candi Staton. It always makes me smile and reminds me of many happy times in my life. Bizarrely I always seem to hear it whenever I need it the most. Many a time when I've been sad and driving somewhere it's started playing on the radio.


So, there you go. I'm not sure how 'interesting' those facts were but I got nothin' else! I tag Smidge, Jenn, PJB, Jeni and anyone else who feels like having a go.

Schönes Wochenende!

What does the weekend have in store for you my darlings?


I for one am looking forward to two days of pure unadulterated fun. Tonight I shall be mostly dying my hair to refresh my raven-ness, drinking water, eating wasabi peas, watching The Wire and possible indulging in a (small) glass of white wine. I know how to partay.

In truth though I'm merely saving myself for tomorrow. 12 girls. 1 city. Untold carnage. Yes, it's the Girly Manchester Blogging Tweet-Up. Or GMBTU as I like to call it. It just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Although, coincidentally and completely uninterestingly that's the name of a Trade Union that I do cases for. I think they may have more important things to deal with than wine, pretty boys and high high heels though. Poor them.

Yes, today I am mostly speaking gibberish.

Why? Because I'm giddy. And why am I giddy? The sun is shining! Now all I can think about is Summer. Beer gardens, ice lollies, ice cold cider, barbecues, festivals, light nights, the smell of freshly cut grass lingering in the air. I cannot wait.


But first, the weekend cometh! Tell me your plans oh gorgeous ones!

Tootsies

Seriously.

I got home from work over three hours ago. My poor little trotters still haven't thawed out. Even sitting 'neath the Slanket of Dreams (tm) for the last hour hasn't helped. Pointy silver shoes may make you feel like a joyous little elf, Helen, but they are not suitable for a snowy day in February. Silly girl.

Also, is it ok to still wear my Henry Holland alphabet tights despite the humungous ladder blighting the same? No? Thought not. £11 well spent there. Marvellous.

Luck is believing you're lucky, that's all...

Today I need to ask you a favour, dear reader.


At 3pm I have a meeting. A very important meeting. Possibly one of the most important meetings of my life.

I need you to cross your fingers for me. Pray for me (if that's your bag). Think good thoughts for me. Send good luck winging its way to me on the breeze.

If you do, I'll buy you a cupcake. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not. But I will be very grateful.

Enter the crypt

I'm feeling completely on edge today.


But not in a bad way. Well, maybe in a slightly bad way. I feel like I'm at a crossroads and it perplexes me. It's time to make some big decisions. Big, scary, potentially life changing decisions. Decisions that could take me far from here, or not so far at all. Decisions that could affect my whole career, life, future happiness et al. There are things in the pipeline that are potentially very exciting but something's niggling me. A little voice at the back of my head. The same little voice that tells me I'm not good enough or that I look too fat in that dress. The voice that is 99% quieter than it used to be but that still rears its ugly head occasionally.

I'm being cryptic I know and for that I apologise. But, for now, crypticity (is that even a word?) is wholly necessary. At least until my poor befuddled brain works out what it wants. What it really, really wants. (Check me out with my mid-90's pop references, I'm so topical)