Friday, February 24, 2006
I bet you look good on the dance floor... **
Logging on today I noticed that my last post was my 300th. There you go, a statistic to start.
I am determined to post this, um, post as I have written about a dozen since early December that are in my saved drafts on my email that I just can't bring myself to publish. There's nothing wrong with them really it's more that there is nothing especially right about them either. I think my problem is (and you are free to make your own separate list here) is that I write them offline and can never be bothered to transfer them over to TMP. Then I waste time looking for funny pictures, funny to me at any rate and well by the time half of that is achieved I'm bored and thinking it's all just a bit dull.
This already dull post is being drafted within the confines of blogger and hence is at least half way there to being published.
I am also wanting not to let two months go by before I post again.
What can I tell you? The girls and I have done our predictions for our Oscars guessing game. Aka the TAOGGs (The Annual Oscars Guessing Game - catchy huh). Naturally this involved a spreadsheet and a introductory blurb to call for predictions. That's my favourite part of the whole game. Writing some bollocks, pretending we're on the red carpet, collecting awards, talking about the fashions, giving everyone a special category/genre/date. This year it was about the unsung hero, yes the cinema goer. I imagine when I do these that they are a little like writing horoscopes. I also imagine anyone reading this who isn't doing TAOGGs really won't have a clue as to what I'm talking about. C'est la vie. I'm leaving it in because, as mentioned, I'm determined to post whatever ends up in this blogger draft.
Went out for dinner last night, a restaurant that defined cheap and cheerful. Public health might have used other words having seen the state of the downstairs loos but the food and price more than made up for it. We decided it should be a monthly event and guess what, a spreadsheet was drawn up and sent out this morning.
Can you see a theme?
I have two bosses, one the boss of the other one. "You're not the boss of me" * The more junior loves to give me spreadsheet type things to do. "Oh but you're so good at them" she patronises. I want to reply "any fucking idiot can be good at Excel, it's not hard." Especially I might add when I'm not doing anything remotely difficult or including any financial equations. It's a table f.f.s.
I've been making a concerted effort to catch up on my cinema going recently. Also wanting to track down all those cinemas that do half price Tuesdays, wacky Wednesdays and £5 Mondays. I found them. Hurrah. My new frugal life starts here.
Which reminds me, the lift replacement I spoke about a long time ago has now been half completed, we have one shiny new lift. It's got a mirror in it and, sadly, a camera. I have to spend half my time pretending like I'm not looking at myself in the mirror or do it soblatantlyy that it looks like I'm just being practical - oh look sorting my hair out - quick flick and eyes down. That sounds a bit rude. It's a nice lift, completely out of step with the rest of the block and destined to have rubbish left in it, a bit ofgraffitii and if we're really lucky some piss. Charming huh. For this I pay service charges of £1200pa plus, wait for it, £4k for the lift. Anyway it's only money. Hmm.
I think I ought to conclude this but my thoughts are already turning to finding a nice picture to post. I do think it makes an entry just that little bit prettier. Even if it's irrelevant. So I'm going to risk wandering away from this and finding one.
Ta dah. I found one and came back. I don't think anyone realises but I really am doing this as I say I am.
I really ought to be working, or at least trying to get rid of my headache. I'm supposed to be going out tonight. Disco dancing. Well I *am* going out tonight. I have a hankering to wear something a bit fun but the no-fun zone that is my wardrobe is putting paid to that idea. Still I'd like to take a pair of scissors to the vast array of clothes I don't wear and see if I can't make something out of them. The result I'm sure will be cushion filling. I am not as talented at things as I imagine I am in my head. Which is one of the banes of my life. In my head I can paint, I can draw, I can sew and cook and sing and dance, all brilliantly. Sadly I am only too aware that the execution falls way short of the mark. One day I will find that thing that I am good at. My colleagues will say it's giving directions and having a mobile medicine cabinet but even I know people who are much better at the former and the latter is hardly a talent!
Right, this is long, waffly, pointless and not especially funny. Par for TMP course methinks.
* name that film. Actually I bet it's from loads of films but in this instance, where I remember it from is Boogie Nights. A film I saw in New York around my birthday in '97.
**on the internal jukebox. I just wish I knew more words. Still at least I've moved on from Green Day. "I walk these lonely streets, on the boulevard of broken dreams" Oh bollocks, it's just come on the radio.
I am determined to post this, um, post as I have written about a dozen since early December that are in my saved drafts on my email that I just can't bring myself to publish. There's nothing wrong with them really it's more that there is nothing especially right about them either. I think my problem is (and you are free to make your own separate list here) is that I write them offline and can never be bothered to transfer them over to TMP. Then I waste time looking for funny pictures, funny to me at any rate and well by the time half of that is achieved I'm bored and thinking it's all just a bit dull.
This already dull post is being drafted within the confines of blogger and hence is at least half way there to being published.
I am also wanting not to let two months go by before I post again.
What can I tell you? The girls and I have done our predictions for our Oscars guessing game. Aka the TAOGGs (The Annual Oscars Guessing Game - catchy huh). Naturally this involved a spreadsheet and a introductory blurb to call for predictions. That's my favourite part of the whole game. Writing some bollocks, pretending we're on the red carpet, collecting awards, talking about the fashions, giving everyone a special category/genre/date. This year it was about the unsung hero, yes the cinema goer. I imagine when I do these that they are a little like writing horoscopes. I also imagine anyone reading this who isn't doing TAOGGs really won't have a clue as to what I'm talking about. C'est la vie. I'm leaving it in because, as mentioned, I'm determined to post whatever ends up in this blogger draft.
Went out for dinner last night, a restaurant that defined cheap and cheerful. Public health might have used other words having seen the state of the downstairs loos but the food and price more than made up for it. We decided it should be a monthly event and guess what, a spreadsheet was drawn up and sent out this morning.
Can you see a theme?
I have two bosses, one the boss of the other one. "You're not the boss of me" * The more junior loves to give me spreadsheet type things to do. "Oh but you're so good at them" she patronises. I want to reply "any fucking idiot can be good at Excel, it's not hard." Especially I might add when I'm not doing anything remotely difficult or including any financial equations. It's a table f.f.s.
I've been making a concerted effort to catch up on my cinema going recently. Also wanting to track down all those cinemas that do half price Tuesdays, wacky Wednesdays and £5 Mondays. I found them. Hurrah. My new frugal life starts here.
Which reminds me, the lift replacement I spoke about a long time ago has now been half completed, we have one shiny new lift. It's got a mirror in it and, sadly, a camera. I have to spend half my time pretending like I'm not looking at myself in the mirror or do it soblatantlyy that it looks like I'm just being practical - oh look sorting my hair out - quick flick and eyes down. That sounds a bit rude. It's a nice lift, completely out of step with the rest of the block and destined to have rubbish left in it, a bit ofgraffitii and if we're really lucky some piss. Charming huh. For this I pay service charges of £1200pa plus, wait for it, £4k for the lift. Anyway it's only money. Hmm.
I think I ought to conclude this but my thoughts are already turning to finding a nice picture to post. I do think it makes an entry just that little bit prettier. Even if it's irrelevant. So I'm going to risk wandering away from this and finding one.
Get Smart - "But Maaaax"
Ta dah. I found one and came back. I don't think anyone realises but I really am doing this as I say I am.
I really ought to be working, or at least trying to get rid of my headache. I'm supposed to be going out tonight. Disco dancing. Well I *am* going out tonight. I have a hankering to wear something a bit fun but the no-fun zone that is my wardrobe is putting paid to that idea. Still I'd like to take a pair of scissors to the vast array of clothes I don't wear and see if I can't make something out of them. The result I'm sure will be cushion filling. I am not as talented at things as I imagine I am in my head. Which is one of the banes of my life. In my head I can paint, I can draw, I can sew and cook and sing and dance, all brilliantly. Sadly I am only too aware that the execution falls way short of the mark. One day I will find that thing that I am good at. My colleagues will say it's giving directions and having a mobile medicine cabinet but even I know people who are much better at the former and the latter is hardly a talent!
Right, this is long, waffly, pointless and not especially funny. Par for TMP course methinks.
* name that film. Actually I bet it's from loads of films but in this instance, where I remember it from is Boogie Nights. A film I saw in New York around my birthday in '97.
**on the internal jukebox. I just wish I knew more words. Still at least I've moved on from Green Day. "I walk these lonely streets, on the boulevard of broken dreams" Oh bollocks, it's just come on the radio.
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