the world's gone nutty

I’m inclined to think that the world is just getting more bizarre by the day. Around 4pm every afternoon, when everyone in the O&L Purchasing department decides they have been diligent for long enough, the topic of conversation tends to be particularly un-academic.
Today, a colleague and I realised that neither of us knew what a cashew tree looked like. While Sylvia ‘Googled’ it, Richard enquired as to whether her bag of cashews bore the statement ‘May contain traces of nuts’. It did. How unbelievably unnecessary. Does it actually contain anything but nuts?!
As the rest of the team joined the conversation, I learned that the underside of a Marks and Spencer Tiramisu states, ‘Do not turn this product upside-down’. Oops, too late!
Have manufacturers just become patronizing or are consumers simply dense?
I decided it was time to escape the madness when Sylvia suggested she staple her lips shut in order to resist overindulging on the aforementioned cashews. This place cracks me up.

fallen for the boys

It has been a while since an album has jumped straight to my personal choice #1 after just 2 days on repeat in my discman (old-skool, I know). Fall out Boy’s, From Under the Cork Tree, is a jumble of backward lyrics (“…drop a heart, break a name”), buoyant rock and stirring melodies. According to the bands own website “Their music contains elements of punk and pop, but they aren’t pop-punk.” Thanks guys. As lead singer of a not-quite-pop-punk-rock band, Patrick Stump’s voice is beautifully smooth. I think I was sold at first glance of track #1 which is entitled “Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued”. Classic.
The last album to provoke in me such an urgent longing to bounce along the train platform was Pushing the Senses by Feeder (not to be confused with “Feeler”, thank you Ian).
Credit where it's due - it must be mentioned that Bron was the one who first introduced me to the band (not the first good introduction she has provided).
I have this nasty habit of playing a new album continuously until I can confidently sing along to each song. I just love that feeling of knowing your favourite track is up next. When I start to get too familiar, I hit the random button, just to spice things up a bit. If, after approximately 100 loops, rather than wanting to hide the CD in a box labeled ‘Do not listen for at least 2 years’, I love the album more than when I started, it has earned its place as a favourite. Perhaps not the most specialized way to evaluate a record but it works for me.
However, when really good ones like this come along, there is no need for the test. Sometimes you just know.

bleak outlook

Today, I have tried everything to focus my attention on the task at hand but that dark cloud of tedium just won't budge. Or am I confusing that with the cloud that has been hanging over this city that the sun forgot for nearly 5 months? I just can't seem to tell the difference anymore.
Winter, winter go away...
How can you be expected to muster up enough enthusiasm for life when the sun is your main source of energy and you haven't seen it for so incredibly long? You'll have to tolerate me as I have a little pity-party and yes, I'm well aware that it is my own choice to be here. But, come on! You would think that in this modern world we live in, someone would have come up with a solution to make a long English winter less severe?

Right, perhaps it is up to me to bring a bit of light, albeit figurative. So, here are a few things to enjoy about winter:

You get to wear scarves, gloves, coats and hats and look like a snowman
You can snuggle (just pick random people on the street, I'm sure they won't think you're weird)
Fireplaces become functional rather than ornamental
It's really cool when it snows (IF it snows)
You can lie cuddled up and cosy in bed with hot chocolate and a good book or a DVD
You can see how long you can make your umbrella last (okay, maybe that one is just for me)
You can moan incessantly about the cold (just admit it, everyone likes a good grumble now and again - it's therapeutic)

I know I'm clutching at straws, but it's the best I could come up with for now.

Tomorrow's forecast sees the gloom lifting as an attitude of appreciation starts to move in from the south. The rest of the week will be slightly overcast, but as February draws to a close there is the prospect of brighter days to come.

a years worth of content

I’ve been back in London exactly one year now. My natural instinct is to say that I can’t believe how things have turned out but, to be honest, had you told me to really imagine what life would be like a year on, I’d probably have come up with a similar scenario, minus a few details and obvious hiccups along the way. The truth is, one year ago, life could only really look up. There and then, I resolved to make positive choices and defy instincts to retreat but rather to endure through tough times.
I could say that it hasn’t been easy, but actually, the only really difficult thing was learning to be patient when everything was going pear-shaped and all seemed hopeless. In hindsight, I’m rather pleased with current circumstances and how life has progressed. While waiting half an hour in the freezing cold for a bus that arrives 'bursting at the seams' may still rouse mild irritation, when it comes to the big stuff, I just keep reminding myself to give it up to the man who has ultimate control and trust that “everything’s gonna be alright”.
Like most people who occasionally take the time to reflect, I’m excited and daunted by the possibilities held in the year ahead. Who will I encounter? Where will I go? What will I learn?
All uncertainties aside, one thing is for sure: I’ll have plenty of news and if I’m quiet it’s only because things are temporarily out-of-control. So, watch this space.

all dressed up and nowhere to go

Decked out in my disco getup (pink earrings, pink nails, pink and black bangles, a wanna-be-a-rock-star t-shirt and pink checked shoes), accompanied by 10 fabulous friends, I was ready to rock-and-roll all night long at Friday night’s roller disco, in celebration of my 23 years of existence. Instead, we ended up lost in Kings Cross, turned away at the entrance by ‘afro-hulk’ the bouncer, only to find ourselves back at the station with nowhere to go and me minus a precious, pink earring.
A spontaneous group verdict saw us head towards Piccadilly Circus for a good dose of raw fish at my new favourite Sushi spot, Kulu Kulu. On finding it at capacity, I surrendered and left the sourcing of a venue to those who had not been numbed by the cold and disappointment of flattened disco dreams.
By 11pm, I had balloons tied from practically every limb, been entertained by a somewhat offensive magician and endured a serenade by the wait staff in TGI Fridays while standing in full view of the entire restaurant. I’m inclined to think that this joint effort to amuse was led by Ian, Bron and Steve, who took great pleasure in watching my unsuspecting demeanour transform as further humiliation ensued.
An unforgettable birthday bash, turned into an equally memorable birthday weekend. I wont pretend that planning is my forte, because honestly, I tend to prefer it when things don’t work out. The best experiences are never itinerised. They’re unprompted and impulsive and if nothing else, leave you with something to write home about.

young and restless

After connect group last night, thanks to two lattes worth of caffeine, I was ready to face another day and thus sleep was not a likely prospect. Rather than lie pointlessly in the dark, I retrieved my journal and accompanied by Avril, began to relive my experiences over the last couple of years. I’d almost forgotten what a roller-coaster it’s been. How can you oppose being a drama queen when your life plays out like a soap-opera? I imagine I studied acting more as a survival tool than for the love of it.
Undoubtedly, those I’ve encountered have played major roles. Some have acted alongside, a few have dominated the scene, others have played a supporting role and all have offered a unique performance. I don’t mean to devalue my relationships with this analogy, its merely poetic licence. There have been pivotal performers who I had hoped I could keep close to me forever, like good songs that you wish would just keep on playing. But so many times a scene change has prompted a fresh cast and a new set and it takes a while to become comfortable in each others space.
In conclusion, I’d have to say that I’m enjoying this episode more than many from past seasons. If nothing else I’ve kept myself entertained; I’ve loved and lost, I’ve learned, I’ve hurt, I’ve enjoyed, I’ve thrived and failed…I’ve lived.

indulgent death by snicker

I came across this article on the Guardian website today. As much as I love the occasional Snicker bar, no dessert is worth more than 2 meals calorie allowance.
I wont deny that I am a little intrigued though…however, probably not enough to try it myself.
Okay, maybe one day if I have a couple of hours to kill…
Oh, who am I fooling?!? Where can I find an 11-inch flute?

shout out

Happy birthday, Fox!

too bored to think of a title that works

Good grief! Never mind being bored to tears, I am now far beyond the depths of misery and ready to go to tremendous lengths to amuse myself. I can feel my brain slowly turning to mush as cells lie dormant and begin to transform and wither, having gone unused for too long.
How did I end up a '9-5er' when my entire being cringed at the very thought when I was younger? Now on the approach to my 23rd birthday and not far from quarter-life, I seem to be spending more and more time mulling over hours wasted staring at a screen. The mere fact that I even find the word 'wasted' highly appropriate when referring to my work day starts to sound the alarm bells.
Cliché, cliché, life is so short, blah, blah... I annoy myself with such suggestions but they aren't called truisms for nothing.
Is it a lingering case of the winter blues? Do I simply not have enough enthusiasm for the self motivation that a desk job calls for? I just find it ridiculous that I live in a city that offers limitless opportunities to fulfil individual ambition and here I sit accepting my lot in order to pay the bills (and sometimes a treat or two if the taxman doesn't interfere too much).
When will I stop complaining and feel inspired enough to take the plunge into a career that's worth getting out of bed for?

suburban bliss

I have found my favourite bar in London. How can you not fall instantly head-over-heels for a place that puts a choc-chip cookie in your cocktail?! Suburban bar in Wimbledon offers a 2-for-1 cocktail special every night from 6-8. That, coupled with classic 90’s tunes, makes for an upbeat atmosphere that I am yet to find elsewhere in London.
On arrival I was too daunted by the thought of consuming 2 cocktails before dinner and thus opted for a pineapple juice instead. However, as the evening wore on I was captivated by the vibe and when my eye lingered on the page that proffers ice-cream cocktails I was sold. The ‘Ice-cream Sandwich’ cocktail, a fusion of ice-cream, cookies and coffee liqueur, tasted distinctly minty which was surprising as there was no mention of it on the menu, but nonetheless delectable and enough of a teaser to get me back there on a regular basis.