Monday, November 22

The best baby name ever

Bonny baby competition from yesterday's Wales on Sunday... a little girl... wearing a headband with bow attached... called... drum roll please...

... Demsi-Brie!

Like the cheese.

I can't wait until I have my own Chesney-Stilton or Tia-Edam.

Friday, November 12

Cute or scary?
Inspiration
John Peel got buried today. Here's the proper version of the quote that I heard on the radio when he died.

"I'm fabulously lucky, I've got everything I wanted as a kid, a house in the country, an astounding wife, and a job on the radio. I don't know what could be done to improve it."

Monday, November 8

Sad
I'm feeling sad, like the kind of sad I get on a Sunday, or when it's raining, or when I'm hungover.

But it's Monday, and I haven't been drinking and the weather's OK too.

If I see an old man on his own, it is likely to make me cry. If I see a mother kissing her baby, that will probably make me cry too.

Happy or sad, any emotion is guaranteed to have me in floods when I'm having one of these days.

Tuesday, November 2

A modern tragedy
Do you think it's a sign that you're bored of your job, when you do everything in your power to avoid clearing the pile of work on your desk?

There's plenty to keep you occupied. You've done your to-do list, got everything in order to be tackled one task at a time.

When you made the list this morning - or maybe even last night - you felt efficient, organised, really on top of things. But as the clock has ticked its way through the minutes and the hours, the endless cycle of reading-typing-printing-cutting-pasting-e-mailing has begun to get you down.

You right hand gets drawn to the mouse and suddenly you're faced by the flashing cursor on the Google home page, enticing you to type, to enter a word and find out everything in the world there is to know about that subject. "Come on," it's saying, "just one word. Just one and I'll take you to places on the information superhighway you ain't ever been before, baby."

No, you can't, you absolutely can't. You know the deadline for that really important job's looming.

But it carries on with its seductive wink, its empty box waiting to filled with your curiosity.

And you look at it, thinking "Oh, go on then, I'll just have fifteen minutes as a little break." And you stare at the screen, the empty box, the flashing cursor, but you just can't think of anything to type.

Not one thing. The whole world is at your fingertips, but your brain is blank. You're so numbed by the daily grind that your brain has lost its inquisitiveness.




Monday, November 1

Clocks
I'm having the usual problem that I get at this time of year. Half my clocks have been turned back an hour, but half of them haven't.

When I got up this morning, my alarm clock said 6.30 am - all well and good. I had a shower, washed and dried my hair, got dressed, then headed downstairs for a nice winter-warming bowl of porridge.

The clock on the cooker said 08:00. "Shit!" I said many times while trying to cook porridge/make my sandwiches/apply eyeliner/pack my bag. How come it took me so long to get ready - I was supposed to leave at 7.30 to catch the 8 o'clock train. Hot porridge is shovelled into my mouth, burning my tongue as I try at the same time to stick eye drops in the cat and find two gloves that match.

Then it dawns on me. The clocks, ah yes, they changed last night. It's only just past 7. All is calm.