(Jessica) " 'Is it raining?' 'No. It's national baptism day..' "

Hello Waffle,

SO....You'll never guess the morning I've had. Nope. No guessing, so I shall tell you. I shove a £20 note into my back pocket on my run for the bus, the bus I manage missing, and reach into my back pocket for the twenty and find that it's disappeared, en route I suspect.I finally got on the bus to greet the world's slowest driver...I could walk on my little fingers faster than that bus was going. I finally made the judgement call to take a cab from the city (I secretly had the 'Sherlock' serial killer taxi episode in my head as I got in...). But the guy was nice enough and said to me as I got in, "In a hurry miss?". Which made me smile as I felt almost regal...I felt like a little Miss Bennett travelling to Pemberley. In short, fate steals £20 notes from your back pockets, makes you late and gives you a decrepit bus driver just because she can. Then, she throws you a bone...and calls you Miss.

So as part of my job I have to see foreign students on a regular basis, on average we meet 480 a session. Lots of people. We have to take down and update their contact details. So it was during this interaction that I asked a student for his number...and he hands me his mobile to take down his number and as my hand holds his phone..*exhale dramatically*..he holds my hand.Picture this if you will: Phone, my hand holding phone, his hand holding both. My hand was a hostage, a hand hostage. It was the filling in an awkward hand sandwich!  I stared at the mess of hands in complete disbelief for a little while, looked at him, back at the hands and tried to subtly shake his hand off. Then not so subtly shake his hand off...I guess he thought I was having a fit because he gave me the most confused look. Eventually it dawned on me that the faster I took the number, the quicker my hand would be released from this madman. What's with people? Don't they know?! In England that is not okay behavior. I don't know whether England is an uptight private culture naturally or if it is just how I am. But it is now a new chapter in my book: "Culture tips 101". Chapter 3: When entering a society that you are poorly informed on, it is best to not touch any hands that don't belong to you. Why do things like this always happen to me? People always get involved in my space. Is it just me? I'm to face tattoo...and by face tattoo I mean...

I am a thoughtful guy, I think about a lot of things...I am a thoughtful guy, I think a lot of thoughts about a lot of things- Have you ever thought about where your life would be if you left 10 minutes early to the activity where you met Ieu....what would you be doing now? Our lives would both be REALLY different. Food for thought.

Oh dear dear Shams, I am deeply sorry that you find yourself in the middle of the weight loss pool. But may I be the first to say ...*hits lights and shines torch under face*... "Welcome". Weight loss is a joyful and rewarding process...when it's opposite day and you're in a room full of clown mirrors that make you look like a string bean. Oh my sweet Rachel...you'd eat oaty pillows, which had a closer likeness to cardboard than a breakfast cereal, just to sacrifice 4 calories and reduced sugar content?! Those 4 calories are to stop you from running across the room with your tongue on the carpet, like a lawnmower. The true secret to dieting is not to deny yourself 4 calories worth of taste. But take heart friend, the slower you loose weight the slower you put it on...or so I'm told.

What you had to say about Trowbrige's strange mix of beings made me laugh. What kind of person dye's a dog's hair? Someone with either a youtube account...or no freeview tv. I've been strange beings, every time I travel past Anglia Square. There is a shop down there called, "Aladdin's Cave". It has a beautiful oak vanity set in the window...with a cage and a stuffed snake resting on the top. Never a lack of entertainment. I also saw a guy that looked like the Hippie troubadour from GG down in Anglia Sq. Felt like whistling him a little tune about working in a Kinkos...or growing your own veg. Sweet guy.

I am truly (not really all that) sorry for the voicemail I just left. I knew I saw that actress somewhere and it suddenly came to me. I had to share this glorious moment, moment of gloryment if you will, with someone. 1:00am in the morning or not. You love it really loin fruit, fruit that you are.WWTBFCD?? She would love it. I would have called her but alas, we don't keep in contact since the night terror episode of '04. I digress...

I have to journey to the land of nod...nod here being sleep and not the "you can leave your hat on" nod. 

Don't be like that, wipe the brazzlefrat and bendelschnitz expression off your face.

I love you Montgom.
Say hello to M.L for me....or beardy monroe...either. xxx

P.s. “Hey, did anyone ever think that maybe Sylvia Plath wasn’t crazy. She was just cold!"

"Well, Taylor, I'm a 2 inch kinda guy."

An inch is a deceptive amount, you know. Whenever I watch these weight loss programmes, and they announce that someone has lost an inch off their waist, jaws drop, gasps are heard and tears spring to the eyes.
"PAH!" I think. "1 inch?! Are they for real?!"
Now I am in the whole weight loss zone and, if I'm honest, an inch might be a pretty nice amount to come off  my waist! I've not really been measuring inches, etc. Just weight and at 9.8 1/2, I feel pretty good about myself. I made a break through with Special K though. Indeed, I broke through the Special K barrier!! I went shopping at Tesco to replenish my cereal stock. I dashed there because Special K was on offer and I wanted to stock up before the offer ends. What did I discover?? I could get the same amount of similar but healthier flakes for less money!! That's right. 4 calories less, much less sugar and saturated fat per bowl! I also found a big box of Quaker's oat pillows- 99p for a huge box! Also healthier than a bowl of Special K. That means the precious little calories I save I get to re-distribute to more exciting lunches. For example, Melba Toast. Melba toast is like a thin, long slice of crouton. Delicious and...crunchy. BUT, with 12.8 calories a slice, I can have Cheese, Marmite, a little cream cheese on them and it makes a lovely light lunch!
Couple those delicious delicacies with some pilates or some yoga and you have a healthy little Rachie. Just want you always wanted, I know. =)

Trowbridge is the home of a wonderful, eclectic mix of beings. I say beings because not all of the eclectic mix are human. The other day, for example, I saw one of those skinny, wretched looking dogs with the whisps of long hair on its head and tail. That is not abnormal, I am sure. BUT, The long white hair on the head was dyed an aqua like green and tied up in 2 bunches. It took me a while to process exactly what I had just seen. 3 months in Trowbridge and you learn simply not to look twice.

One wonderful thing about our lives here is about our Home Teachers. They are 2 very different people. One who's Ex-Army and into guns and the other who is very mild, quiet and into films and sports, I believe. They are THE most diligent home teachers I have ever had (next to Steve Butcher). They are lovely and caring but they are so funny. One of them gets talking about the army and the other looks at me with raised eyebrows as the technological terms fly, with considerable speed, waaayyy over our head. When roles are reversed and we're talking about rugby, the other is silent. Until....the topic of westerns was broached. I have never, ever heard of a spaghetti western before in my life.

Definition: spa·ghet·ti west·ern
Noun
A western movie made cheaply in Europe by an Italian director.

This I learnt after a mildly heated discussion ensued between our wonderful Hometeachers about what defined it and whether a specific movie title would be considered a spaghetti western or not. It was not long after the silence that followed that I said, in unison with the more quiet of the two...."Ah...so, the message?"
Ha!

I have a busy couple of months ahead with some new training programmes the museum are launching for their treasured volunteers. I get on very well with the volunteer coordinator and just happened to drop in there that I teach history workshops to children and if she ever needed any help with the education side of the museum, she need only ask! She was delighted. The funniest thing though was that she had already pre-scheduled the talks and training I was to come to because my friend Penny was on them. Now I told you about Penny before but...having watched Miranda, I can now, 100% wholeheartedly say she both looks and is like Penny, Miranda's mother. It's actually uncanny. She's so funny and I am excited to be back at the museum with her!

Anyway, please await part 2 after our VIP couples make over session at the photo studio tomorrow...no doubt THAT will present some serious material! X

(Jessica)- "How about 'The We'? Yeah. We are 'The We' "

Rory: She needs a resume and samples of your previous work and, uh, referrals. 

Lorelai: And my bare butt to kiss? 

Rory: If you think that will set you apart from the other applicants, yes. 

------------------------------------

Oh yes, it has been a few weeks of me thinking, "And my bare butt to kiss". Don't get me wrong...I have had a wonderful few weeks but it has been the odd awkward moments, upon which this blog thrives, which have multiplied and replenished very much recently. This blog has done wonders for my positive attitude- whenever something truly embarrassment and horriffico happens I simply think to myself (*in a Louis Armstrong voice*), "What a wonderful blog!".


Do you ever have those moments when you're in a girl's bathroom and you happen to hear a conversation like this, "You have no idea, my skin has been the worst skin since 2012!"...As you know I am now working in a University so I often come across conversations like these on my trips away from a computer screen. I did feel so sorry for the student who has had the worst skin as of 2012....I really did. Until I walked a midst the toxic cloud of hair-spray, Charlie Red and shine powder, only to discover that she was blessed with some of the finest skin I have seen. (Odd thing isn't it...to compliment someone's skin? Perhaps I should say complexion as sounds less...awkward.) I felt like saying, "Well some of us have been bless with crackin' (literally) skin since 2000...so do be quiet!". 
Soon after this moment the tribe of girls left...and I broke the tap at one of the sinks...pulled it clean out of the wall actually...I managed to balance the fixings around the sink and made it just about look like a normal tap, or modern art...depends on your perspective I suppose. My eyes and eyebrows twinned as one and rose to the heavens, I shrugged and thought something to do with Lorelai's aforesaid phrase. 
**And my bare butt to kiss**
I would just like to inform you that I am at work, lunch break- don't freak out. Do you know what the height of chatter is? The basic office conversation? I'll tell you... "So, what have you got for lunch?". Or really any lunch conversation really. It seems to be the office staple diet for polite conversation.I shall refer you to one particularly awkward conversation that we had in the office, not two days ago. I was minding my own business and just working quietly and I heard the tail-end of Simon's (guy who sits opposite me) conversation to Helen (lady next to me)...
Simon-"...If Jess saw me doing that she'd slap me..." 
*Looking to Helen slightly confused*-You have to understand, I am not vocal at all in the work place, so someone throwing slapping accusations around took me by surprise. Anywhere else than the office would be situation normal I suppose...

Simon goes on-"Helen doesn't slap me anymore but that's only because she knows I enjoy it."

*Silence and nausea dawn over the people with hearing*

Helen: "So, what have you got for lunch today Jess?"

You see? It's the perfect 'out' of a weird silence. Even if you have a dinner appointment you are hailed as quite the celebrity...I'm not sure that I have ever caught the strange lunch obsession that everyone has...but I certainly appreciate it.

It made me laugh when I read the last paragraph of your blog about being stabbed in a bus lane. Strangely my odds of being stabbed in a bus lane have drastically increased. I have more chance of being stabbed in a bus lane or on a bus than anywhere else on the planet.
I have recently had some trauma in that department. Which makes me miss Robs quite a bit because he would always tease me about my/our bus adventures...and then offer his limbs in our defense. Anyway, I digress... I was offered some socks...men's Gant socks... as a Christmas present by a person I see on the odd occasion on the number 13. Apparently the acceptance of these socks means, "June Wedding" or the equivalent in modern man speak, and the next time I randomly bumped into him, he decided to take an army and march on Poland. (Poland being my face and an army here being his mouth like feature...less like a mouth in this instance and more like...a chasm of death, a death chasm...in which my face was going to be lost forever). This is exactly what I thought as his face made his way passed my 84cm invisible border...
I did exclaim a noise that was something like- but not necessarily..."Ugghhhhh--Ewwwwww". Upon which he promptly stormed off and I had several abusive texts all inclusive with a wide variety of French.

I did see him on the bus a few days later...he saw me and got off in Norwich 20 minutes before his stop....in Spixworth... Was it something I said?
In the wise words of our Great Aunt Laura, "Jessica, you really need to learn how to drive mate."

As you can see...there is a theme to my narration here...all of these circumstances have that special phrase in common.

Anyway, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas! Are you excited? I sure am. I watched Muppets...and I will watch, "While you were sleeping" later on in the week. It won't be the same without you but the slippery ice scene never fails to greet me with hysteria. Maybe we can watch it when you're here? You HAVE to watch it with mutual Leonard (Ieuan...for those other than Rachel...mutual Leonard is Ieuan). I think he will appreciate the humor. 

Lucy: Oh! I don't want any flowers from you, I am not wearing black underwear, and I definitely do not want to move in with you, Joe - 

[it's Jack, not Joe Jr] 

Lucy: Jack. 

Jack: Well, I don't have any flowers, I wouldn't mind seeing the black underwear, but under the circumstances, I don't think we should move in together. 

Lucy: I thought you were Joe Jr. 

Jack: [sarcastically] I get that a lot. 

So excited for that magic!

Anyway, I'm two minutes into work time now and have to dash. 

I love you Snafroe! (See what I did? It's the ultimate combo!)

Reply or better....

Lots of love,

Fruity. 

xxx

"Have you ever had mad cow disease?" "Twice last week, and my colouring was great!" (Rachel)

So I've never had mad cow disease but our titles don't always HAVE to be related, do they??
Did you know that Lauren Graham (Lorelai) actually dated Matt Blucas? She is now with Peter Krause...I think you can tell her kind of guy and it is similar to Lorelai's, I think. Anyway....

I am currently sitting in the university of Bath library under the false name and ID card of Ieuan Guy. Shhhh...don't tell anyone. Thankfully, it's a swipe machine rather than armed personnel who check the validity of the ID, or I would be well and truly had by now. As I type, I am sneaking giant white chocolate buttons from my secret stash of chocolatey goodness. Ieuan can't believe what's happened to me! I've gone from "I'll take a satsuma, thanks" to "I could probably eat that whole bar of galaxy cookie crumble to myself". Ah, what those monthly hormones do to a gal.

I want you to know that I am so excited to see you tomorrow. I remember when Ieuan would come to visit me in Lancaster and I would want the whole of the friday to prepare for his arrival that evening..I would take so much pride in doing the shopping and the cleaning, organising everything, scrubbing everything so that when he came, I was the organised domestic goddess I wanted to be. Does it surprise you to know that I feel the same level of excitement to see you? I am just as excited to make my domestic-y preparations! I can't wait for our soup and toast supper.

There's something very comforting about the word supper, don't you think? It denotes firesides, stories, warm slippers, cosy PJs and light, warm nibbles, like soup. It's very much a winter thing. I just cannot wait to pick you up from the station and drive you to my little house! There, we will sit, with Husbandy on our lovely cosy couch, and, bathed in the gentle lamp-lit hues of our living room, nestled in a blanket, we will sip our soup and dip our toast and revel in the joys of good company!

I have made a wonderful friend at the museum....Penny Scott Barret.  She and I had a joint induction when I first went to the museum and we have been firm friends ever since. She is about the same age as Emily Gilmore and is like her in all the best ways; glamorous, enjoys high society, has a beautiful big house, wears lovely clothes, speaks very nicely, drives nice cars...but is as down to earth, generous and enthusiastic as anyone you could hope to meet! She is so funny. She and I giggle like school girls and she managed to convince me to swap my shift at the museum from fridays to thursdays so I can be with her. She is so great. It's so funny because it reminds me of the friendship I have with Pat, Gil and Margaret at Morrisons. I would do anything for those ladies and they would do the same for me. It just goes to show that friendship knows no boundaries! I am so thankful for somerfields and for budgens that have helped me make the most wonderful friendships with people I would not have met in any other way!! =)

So, I heard something the other day that was pretty darn funny. Some comedian was saying that when someone is stabbed to death, a lengthy investigation ensues, and police officers spend months trying to find the killer. When you drive in a bus lane, your photograph is taken, and the have in mailed to your house within 48 hours. Moral of the story? Make sure you are stabbed in a bus lane! Funny guy. It's true though...if violent crime could be dealt with the same severity as parking on double yellows or speeding, the most dangerous people on earth would be caught instantly. Unfortunately, I don't think it's possible to operate that way but...it made for a funny joke. As far as comedians go, I still love Nina Conti and the scottish granny....."Schooom!" Hilarious.

Well, sorry this isn't very interesting but you are coming to visit tomorrow. I will just finish with an artistic creation of mine. Hope you like!
All my love,
Shams.
X

"The bottom line is that too many birds are landing atop the streetlights and relieving themselves on helpless passersby. And I daresay that some of these birds seem to be doing it on purpose."- (Jessica)

-Sometimes you're the bird...sometimes you're the statue (or helpless passerby)...and sometimes you're the innocent bus girl in a sea full of empty seats and the old guy with the revolving left eye, despite where his right eye is looking, chooses to sit next to you....despite the derelict bus, complete with rolling tumbleweed...*Silence*...
Speaking of strange men on public transport... I was on the way back from the London office and I was sitting opposite a man with very long legs. You'd think that once you realised that you were encroaching on someone's personal space you'd move, no such luck. Unfortunately his legs were so long the his knees were either side of mine...The other unfortunate thing was that my right leg got cramp and I had to jerk it out to relieve it...go figure...

Oh hello Shams! Fancy meeting you here. Well, it's not really now is it? Not two minutes ago I sent you a text and a wall post on the Book of Face (see what I did there?) telling you that I posted a "post". In eager anticipation you rushed to the computer to read the words of bitter/pearl-esque wisdom from my keen mind and obedient fingertips...and here we are, Funny ol' world isn't it?

I am shocked and ashamed that our mutual Leonard (AKA-Ieuan for anyone who isn't fluent in "Rachica") doesn't like Stovies Pie?.. Nothing short of despicable really. Leonard, I am ashamed. You are a very luck filled man to have had such a wonderful morsel of delicious food. Hang your head boy. Hang. Your. Head.

Here is a tale of The Laptops Three...A collection of short stories about the female Boss...
Are you sitting comfortably? Good, then I shall begin...
Once upon a time there was a lowly worker called Temp, who was happy*ish* in her job. ("That's not happy" I hear you say...well, it's happy with an ish, and she was content). She would do her best to run around and to please. Her boss was small and friendly. She had a pleasant manner about her and a forgetful type head.
One day Boss told Temp to bring the laptops (plural noted please) over to a different building...on the way over she was talking to a lady called Fellow Employee. Now Fellow was chatting to Boss about electrical beauty products and Boss was both entertained and distracted. Temp had three heavy laptops slung about her stooping frame and staggered across campus. When they arrived at their destination..Boss looked at Temp surprised, "We only need the one". The words hung in the air like mist over Glencoe...Temp collapsed to the floor in slow motion. The end.

In all seriousness though, I do like my job and it does have the odd occasion of making me laugh. I was working in the law buildings for a few weeks doing some Visa work and on my last day I was asked to clear the office completely...printer and all. I had to box everything up and wheel it back to the office (which is completely across campus). In this struggle I was pushing this heavy box full of printer, with other boxes on top balancing on a trolley like contraption and throwing all of my weight behind it. In fact I was very much horizontal to the pavement with the effort. People stopped to look, and chuckle and then moved on. Right as I entered the effort and was overcome with the sheer power on my own womanly awesomeness, "The perfect bathroom trip" song came on my MP3 player...
I could not help myself. I burst out laughing and blew like a whale...the boxes tumbled. The picture of me walking into a very quiet office, heaving these boxes all the way across campus for a woman who is half my size, with that song playing just over took my senses and I lost control of my composure for a good five minutes. Ahhh.....my madness made me thing of you.

You know what? I actually have Dave and Andy's number if you'd like it. They are angels of the auto world. I love them both dearly and will always have a special place for them in my heart...Especially Andy...and Dave...I just love his face! Those are two characteristics I want in my future husband...Andy...and Dave.
The "Dandy" gene...(see what I did there? How clever is your fruity?)

Caitlin asks me to wake her up whenever I come up to bed, so she knows I'm in the room. She has taken to putting her her index finger up to me (in a "don't worry" type fashion) until she's lucid enough to say goodnight...cracks me up every time.

Well friend on the subject of goodnight...I shall read my letter from Dearest one more time over ice cream and hit the sack.

I love you muchly, sorry the post is so short Fruity.

Love,
Your Fruity Snaffs
x

"I know how to protect you from Agent Orange and Shrapnel. Just ask me how!" (Rachel)

Well! It has been a long time since I last wrote, but your post simply could not keep me away! =)

It just so happens that this very night, I was taken in potato mashing and, to keep myself going during the mashing process (which, depending on how raw/ cooked your potatoes are, can be quite lengthy) I recited to myself those carefully prepared and ingeniously delivered lines of yours. The transformative effect was quite something to behold. All of a sudden, I was a curvy brunette with a deep and abiding passion for food….in my head, I consoled myself lovingly…. ‘It’s only a whopping knob of butter….Nigella cooks like this all the time’. I fantasised that I was a famous chef….mashing potatoes in my Rachel Allen bowl did not help either. Then I missed you, my fellow virtual chef!  Then I noticed that my potatoes were looking like the wrong side of Velcro and, my bottom lip curled in despondence until a familiar phrase replaced the twinkle in my eyes…as if by magic, yours and Nigella’s voices came into my mind and, with hands extended reassuringly, they said “Don’t worry! Milk is your friend”. And boy was it! It saved the day with its creamy lashings caressing my mashed potato, soothing it into a smooth, creamy delight…..

Anyway, on with other matters. So, I am a working girl now (no, not like the ones with the Tiffany Lampshades). I am a PA, so they tell me! I power dressed the first day….cream Oxbow trousers, short green jacket…you know, you know. Only to feel very underdressed so, back to jeans it is. As I walk to work though, I do feel that underneath my coat is a smashing black pinstriped pencil skirt suit, court shoes and a fitted white shirt. Then, I go and get my Decaff latte with non-fat nothing, because I don’t drink coffee…but the thought of collecting my bespoke hot drink is always there. I then try not to look down at my shabby fake Toms and my bottle of crusha. It ruins the image somewhat! Besides all of my daydreaming, I love my job. I am learning so much! So much, in fact that I believe I could convincingly tell you how to protect your carpet from Agent Orange and Shrapnel. =) Each day at work is filled with tiny victories that make me feel satisfied and successful. A small mercy. =)

Would you like to hear something amusing?? Well, the other day, I went into sainsbury’s to buy a few lemons… I have taken to regularly keeping some fresh lemon juice in the fridge to add zing to water or to soothe any ailed senses in a hot drink form. So, on this particular day, to nurse my brewing cold, I bought these lemons and took them to the self-service machines. I also saw the recipe magazine they offer free of charge, so I grabbed one of those too and put it in my basket. NO sooner had I scanned each lemon, than I started to reach for my magazine when some eager whippersnapper, polecat, muckety-muck decided he would top his BCPH (Baskets Collected Per Hour) by whisking my basket away. I literally had my arm extended ready to grab thin air as he and my basket disappeared. My mouth was open….in awe…in surprise…in disgust….in offence….poised ready to say “Erm…..excuse me….I actually wanted that magazine”. When the words finally came out, he was oblivious. “Excuse…..erm….the basket….The magazine….sorry…..it’s mine…I wanted….never mind.” Like a forlorn goat, I rebuked my arm for remaining outstretched in mid-air for the entirety of my one-sided conversation. Then, I shuffled away, lemons in hand. I soon found where Basket biy had put my magazine. He’d put it on top of the Customer Service counter. Quite right too!! I’ll give him customer service!! My recipe book lay there….unwanted, unloved. Stolen away from a chance at happiness; an opportunity to flee the stack, if you will…to mingle with other recipes…. An opportunity to fill my shelves with light, colour and delicious potential. There it sat. I looked Basket boy straight in his baskety eyes and picked up the magazine from its lonely place on the side. With a sassy salute with the booklet, I left. PAH! Take that PUNK! I reign victorious.

Tonight’s dinner was somewhat interesting. I made corned beef hash. I always worry when meals have names like that, don’t you? Effective advertising works in the home too…

“Honey, what’s for dinner tonight?”

“Corned beef hash!” (I say, enthusiastically, being fully aware that what I have just said is a euphemism for ‘a hash of corned beef’)

“Ahh….is this one of your own recipes?”

(Come on! Give me some credit. If it was my own and I was really trying to conceal the fact that it was a hash of corned beef, would I really have called it Corned Beef Hash?? That begs the question, what would I have called it? ‘Corned Beef Surprise’ might work…adding surprise at the end of a meal always adds a touch of mystery and intrigue. Or perhaps ‘Corned Beef confusion’ would work better. Still not out and out admitting it’s a mess that looks as though it’s been through an animal a good few times, but acknowledging the fact that it’s not exactly a pristine  cake. Then there’s the blatant falsehood option. It’s called “Roast Beef and Potato delight”. The Satan principle…99% truth 1% lie. Definitely Beef and definitely potato….definitely not roasted. =) See where I’m going with this??)

“No, my Mum used to make it all the time- I really liked it growing up” (I mean, have you ever heard of a baby corned beef hash?)

“Cool.”

“SO….out of 10, darling…how much did you hate it?” I can read vibes like Prince John collected taxes. Pretty darn well. He did like it really but, when you think about the way it looks, and how it fills up your mouth with nothing to chew exactly, it is a bit of a non-event sometimes. It is tasty, it is easy, it is cheap…but it isn’t the way to a man’s heart. Remember that, okay? It will serve you well.

The wheel bearing has gone on our car again. AGAIN! I told Ieuan that I might call Dave or Andy for advice. We may not live close to home. We may not have a perfect car. We may not have a private jet…but. We. Will. ALWAYS. Have. DAVE! (This was the tag line I used on his promo poster. I think his business will be booming.) His workshop should be called “We will always have Dave!” or… “You will always have me!” or “Puppy eyes.com” I am confident either will work. Aw, Dave. We love Dave. Nawww (waggling finger affectionately at Dave).

Well, it’s time to retire. I love you. By the way, in my calendar for today, it’s talk like DB day. Good luck with that!

Have a great evening….and don’t forget! We will always have Dave. We will always have Philadelphia!

Snafs xxx

(Jessica)- "Those boys are not interested in your friendship, unless the word "friendship" is tattooed on your butt."

Humphers,
I miss you terribly...who invented Bath to be so far away?! Rubbish people.

I was mashing potatoes today, and I thought to myself, " I wonder how I would describe the art of mashing if I were on a cooking show.." (Obviously my thoughts springed to you as no one else plays cooking shows in the kitchen with me...) So I came up with some thoughts, catch-phrases if you will, that you can repeat to yourself in your kitchen when mashing the potatoes.
"Making mashed potatoes is purely instinctual. Many chefs cook via taste, but when it comes to potatoes, it's all about the texture...." (I may be able to sell that one to Nigella, I was rather chuffed with it).
"If your potatoes are starting to look like the wrong side of Velcro...(extends hand reassuringly)...don't worry... milk is your friend.." (Again, this one prompted a small smile of pride)
Then my cooking experience went a little down hill as I shook the "masher" (does it have a real name?) into the bowl and potato flicked all over me, all down the cupboards and up onto the walls...
I exclaimed, "Oh no, I shook the potato..."  Which to my dismay... made me laugh harder that I expected...(note: I was alone in the kitchen at this point laughing to myself...yes, out-loud)..and in short my television career as potato masher is nought. They'll never let me on the air again. But maybe I can make it as a youtube sensation....I digress...

You know the song by Frank Sinatra, called "The Girl From Ipanema"? It goes like this...
"Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes - ah"
It was only today that I found out those were the lyrics! I thought they were actually,
"Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes squawking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes - *sigh*" (as in a sigh of exasperation for the girl who goes around squawking....)
Who knew?! Although Frank's version makes more sense I have to say I prefer mine...I can more relate to the girl who goes around squawking than the girl who makes people wistful by walking.

Something terrible happened...I was honked.... *high pitched whisper*..by bald men...*higher still*...in a transit. Now, don't get me wrong, I like an ego boost as much as the next man...but...as I turned to look I saw 3 men (old enough to be older than my Father) leering in white vest tops at me. I'd like to make an announcement to these men (referring back to the title of this blog) I have no tatoos.
And I was wondering something as this happened...does the honk technique actually work? I wonder if there have been weddings and in the speeches the groom says (excuse me while I take some artistic liberties with my characters...),
"I met Sandy one hot summer day in two fousand and free. I was leaning outta my transit eating a bacon sarnie and ketchup sauce was drippin' all down my face...searching for a napkin in the glove, I looked up and saw her there...crossing my freshly laid tarmac and fought to myself, 'Georgie boi, you gotta woo this woman 'ere'..so I did what any man would've done and I laid on my horn...*BEEEEEEEP*"
-Sandy chimes in...."I've never been the same since, have I?...What woman doesn't love that? Am I right girls, d'ya get me?!"
(I've come to love George and Sandy in my head...watch this space...my lovable Norfolk folk may feature in more stories...bless. Happy anniversary George and Sandy.)
But seriously now...has it ever happened? I'm honestly curious, so do let me know.

Oh friend...I have a confession...When I was in America a party was thrown...and I attended ("Quick Bob get the kids into a minivan because the world's coming to an end!"-Yes. Thank you.). That is not the point I'm making Rachel, pipe down. I ate devilled-eggs. I KNOW! Devilled-eggs are good for throwing at cars and threatening people with...but have you stopped to try a delicious morsel? I tell you what...choirs sung, eyes were teary and horizons were broadened. Not bad, not bad at all. We shall bake them and eat them when I come down (somewhere after we draw on our feet and play Harry Potter-Can Ieuan be Dumbledore and if so can we stick cotton-wool to his toes?...No?...Just thinking out-loud).

As for your cake conundrum..."Lorelai: I'm gonna have pancakes with a side of pancakes". Let the people grow darn it!! I am glad that you have made an oath to one another about this...I hope that I too can one day have a husband who is sensitive to my cake needs as well as his own...people without cakes is like...*shudder*...It's a dark, dark place Rachel...there's no coming back from it.

Anyway friend (I went into Caitlin to kiss her goodnight tonight and she pulled her covers down just below her eyes, but enough that I could see her cheeks billowing into a smile, and said in the most delighted voice, "Oh hi friend!". We have one little sister there who is a lot like us...) I have to love you and leave you, as I sweep off the internet for bed...big plans tomorrow...I have to get money out of an ATM for my bus fare. Enviable isn't it?

Love you lots Shams...Love Snaffs (saying snaffs makes me want to wrinkle my nose in an adorable fashion...I haven't done adorable for a long time though...at least it's something I can work at on my way to the ATM)
xxx