I don't creep, I glide

Today I'm feeling inspired by Loobylu to write a What's Hot/What's Not list. It's not Wednesday, but I think I'll do mine on Thursdays instead.

Hot
Nic is home from America, hurrah! He was only gone for a week, but I missed him. He had a good time, met some lovely people and brought me home a lovely present of:

Prada perfume. I've been too poor to buy it this year, so have been making do, but it is my favourite perfume. I've been going into House of Fraser recently to spray it on my coat. Now I smell like a very classy lady!

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks. M lent this to me months ago, and I've only started reading it. It's excellent - it reminds me a little of Music and Silence by Rose Tremain, which is another of my favourites.

My new dress which may be named after someone I dislike, but is really really nice on. It looks good with my birthday shoes as well!

Duck eggs. M and I had some boiled Norfolk White duck eggs for our tea on Monday night and they were delicious. It's been years since I've eaten a duck egg, and Nic had never had the pleasure, so I brought him one as breakfast in bed yesterday.

Bagpuss, dear Bagpuss
Old Fat Furry Catpuss
He has been keeping me very nice and warm now that the weather has turned cold.

Finally, and belatedly mastering the crochet granny square. I can do more complicated things but this evaded me for an irritatingly long time. Thanks to good instruction from this book I have very happily using up my various scraps of yarn to make myself a blanket.

One cup coffee filters - making my coffee-drinking at work much more pleasurable. I think I might buy a Belgian filter like this one from Bodum

Making plans for Friday night at the pub. I love going to the pub with my friends!

Not
Open plan office-stress. A colleague sitting near me today talks so loudly on the phone that I'm sure it must render the phone unnecessary.

Being cold. Bagpuss is helping me to ward off the cold, but I'm going to have to switch my heater on eventually.

Trying to make plans for what do do about getting home for Christmas. All of my options seem to be dauntingly expensive.

I know I have to vacuum this weekend, and I hate it.

Nature's all very well in her place, but she musn't be allowed to make things untidy

For this last visit home to (extremely rainy) Northern Ireland I flew with Ryanair into Derry City airport, rather than my usual route of flying with BMIbaby to Belfast International. It was an interesting experience for a number of reasons. It was the first time I had flown with Ryanair for a long time and it has changed lots. I won't join the many voices already criticising Ryanair for the way in which their charges mount and mount, or the lack of room in their planes, or the way in which you are advertised to for almost the entire duration of your flight, or for the fact that the airport is named Derry City Airport but the Ryanair flight announcement and advertising refers to it as Londonderry airport, which it is not (oh, whoops - I did join those people. Oh well) but it was very different to how I was used to getting home. Also, Derry is further away from my parents' house, quite a long drive over the Sperrins. I very much enjoyed the drive through the mountains, and so did my dad. It was nice to be reminded how beautiful my home country is. And, it was excellent to spend some time in Derry - something I haven't done for some time.

It got me thinking again - in a very convoluted manner - about Facebook. On the drive from the airport (actually in Eglinton, not really in Derry) into Derry city centre we drove past the house where one of my friends used to live. He is someone who I lost contact with, and rarely think about now. But when I was a teenager he was an important friend - someone who I wrote to lots, and talked to on the phone, and visited, and really cared about. He was an important friend to have because he was the first properly platonic male friend I had, and I love being friends with men. Anyway, I googled him and found that he is on Facebook, so if I were also on Facebook I'd be able to get in contact with him, and wouldn't that be nice? But, I'm not on Facebook, and I don't want to be. And I can't find other contact details for him online (which is reassuring, actually)

So, what do I want? I suppose if I really wanted to get in contact with him I could write a letter and post it to his parents' house, assuming that they still live in Derry. I suppose it is what I would have done in the days pre-internet. And maybe I will do it. When I deleted my Facebook account, lots of people wondered how I would keep in touch with them. And to be fair, I'm not really in touch with some of those people now, and I wonder what that means. If I contacted Ed (for that is the name of my long-lost friend) on Facebook, would it mean that our friendship was revived? It might, but it probably wouldn't. Maybe that is laziness, but I think it is a kind of laziness that Facebook encouraged me into in the past (that and semi-stalking, and who needs to be spending their time doing that?!) Once again, I'm not entirely sure what my point is in this. Maybe a wee diagram would be helpful

I think 'Oh, wouldn't it be nice to know what Ed is up to these days' --->
Oh, he's on Facebook. But I'm not ------->
Maybe if I was on Facebook I could contact him -------->
But what would that achieve? I don't think it's a very good place to communicate, although we would be able to see each other's photos. ------->
Aaah Facebook is crap. Bollocks to it ---------->
Is fondly remembering someone the same as a sincere desire to rekindle a friendship? ------->
Probably not

Maybe I should write all of my blogs as little diagrams!

p.s Ed Devlin from Derry - on the very slim chance that you google your name and find this, email me, yeah? It's much better than Facebook!

I've block booked 14 meeting rooms. She'll never find us.

It has been a really disjointed week for me. Nic is in America at a conference, and I have been at home, in rainy Northern Ireland. Extremely, extraordinarily rainy. The little weather gadget on my BBC NI homepage always seems to show it raining, it has become a running joke between Nic and I, and that is what it was like. I loved it, though. I spent my time at home just passing the time in the house with my family, playing with the dog, reading and learning a few new crochet stitches. It was indolent, and surprisingly tiring, and just what I needed.

I enjoy my own company and I look forward to having time to myself to read, or daydream, or knit or crochet or whatever, but I don't think I am much good at being on my own for long periods of time. It might be because I grew up in a big family so I've never really spent great amounts of time alone, I don't know. I spent a fair amount of my time at home on my own, and that was good, but it was so comforting to know that my mum was somewhere in the house, or that the dog was asleep on my feet. I miss Nic a great deal, and, having time to think, I have been wondering this evening if I am too dependent on his company and his love, and too dependent generally on having people around me. I'm sure that if I was faced with long periods alone I would be fine, and I would find interesting ways to spend that time, I'm just not all that good at it right now.

All of this has been greatly exacerbated by the fact that I have spent today reading The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Yes, I know, it is about 5 years after everyone else, but I resisted reading it for such a long time (the snob in me. I don't read books that are consistently recommended to me by people I don't like. But then two people who I love and respect recommended it to me, and I cracked.) Now, it wasn't the ideal book for me to read today because a) saying goodbye to my parents at the airport is always very hard and b)I miss Nic. I couldn't put it down, read the entire book in about 4 hours, and it destroyed me. I cried reading it, I cried when I was telling Nic about reading it. I'm pretty lame, but it really hit a nerve. I'd like to read it again when I'm not feeling so sensitive to thinking about love, loss, loneliness and longing. In the novel, Clare spends so much of her time waiting for Henry, and longing for him. One of her friends tells her that she has to move on and stop waiting, but it's what her life is about. And I often feel like I'm always waiting for something, wishing my life away - I suppose it just feels more pronounced now. I'm waiting for Nic to come home, I'm waiting for it to be christmas so I can go home again, I'm waiting for my new job to start. I'm not dissatisfied with the present, and I love my life, so I don't know why I feel so impatient. Well, I know I'm feeling impatient because I want Nic to come home so I can give him a big cuddle. And I think that I'll have to find something a bit more cheerful to read on the train tomorrow!

And on that cheerful thought, here is a picture of my clever, cafe-owning sister with her Hallowe'en cakes:

If Omar Sharif lived in Gateshead I doubt he'd be Omar Sharif

The engineer from the phone company came out on Friday. The company I work for arranged for business lines to be installed in all of our houses, and I think the engineer they sent to my house was one of the Chuckle brothers. Instead of installing a new, additional line, he cut off my phone line. Twat. So it's taken until today to sort it out, and I'd like to say that it didn't stress me out. but it did. So I'll just get that nice big GRRRRRRRR out of the way!

It was a pity that Friday afternoon became so stressful, because I had had a very enjoyable day. We had our team away day at Warwick castle. We had a presentation about risk logs in the morning (yes, I know) but spent the afternoon in teams, doing a sort of treasure hunt around the castle grounds. The weather was beautiful and I was teamed with some excellent people, and although we didn't win, it was so much fun to explore around the castle and grounds.

Phone cock-up aside, it really was a lovely weekend. Nic and I popped by to see C & N and their new carpet, and to share some extremely tasty Lansdowne chips, and then we went to the pub. The rest of the weekend went by in a bit of a blur and I couldn't recount it with any profit. Nic and I have been busy getting him ready to go to Michigan for a conference - I knitted him a scarf and we found him some nice warm and smart coats in the charity shop around the corner:



Ooh, and I also managed to get MY winter coat sorted out. Not, unfortunately, from the charity shop around the corner:



Not that Northern Ireland will be as cold as Detroit, but still. It will be good to be wrapped up warm. And good to have a week off - it has been a stressful fortnight. And this is boring, so I will leave off here.

You fools! These are good biscuits, and they cost four pounds!

It's only Wednesday and already it has been a bit of a topsy-turvy week. But as it's Wednesday I'm not going to spend any time complaining. Well, not much time anyway.

My subconscious has been trying to bully me into submission so far this week. I don't really know why, I'm not too sure what I've done to offend it. On Monday night I had the most horrible dream in which Nic didn't love me any more and my oldest friend A punched me in the mouth. Tuesday was consequently spent under a bit of a cloud, because those horrible dreams are always the ones that stick with you. Anyway, I made it up to myself last night by having an amazingly vivid dream in which I worked for Malcolm Tucker but I wasn't scared of him, so he trusted me and only swore at me in comedy ways. I love Peter Capaldi, what an amazingly sexy man. So I was very reluctant to get out of bed this morning and have been feeling pretty good this morning. Hurrah!

I'm having a very varied work week, but it's good because it limits my time on the Virgin Cross Country Train of Hate. I've got a big meeting tomorrow afternoon which will probably be quite stressful, but as I'll be able to buy some Tayto from Marylebone on the way home it won't be so bad. And then on Friday we have an away day to Warwick castle, which is going to include a treasure hunt. Nice!

Actually, none of the above sounds all that topsy turvy. Things are pretty good. I finally got the details through about my new job, which officially starts on 1st January. And I've been enjoying myself by doing the following things:

Reading The Snapper by Roddy Doyle
That's not strictly true, as I finished it on the train on Monday. Much like The Van it really made me laugh out loud. Roddy Doyle has a real knack for capturing the rhythm of everday conversations and convincingly putting the absurd into the realistic. Nearly everything I have been reading over the past year or so has been pretty heavy going (I'm looking at you here, Doris Lessing and Marilyn French) so it's good to have something funny to read on the train, even if fellow commuters do look at you strangely for giggling into your book.

Watching Cagney and Lacey
Not much to say about this really, except that the later episodes are much better than I thought they would be. And Tyne Daly really does just get cuter and cooler the more I watch her. I think she is brilliant.

Watching The Thick of It
Yes yes, I know. I bought that great box set of the first series and the specials and Nic and I watched them all in the space of a day or so, in preparation for the second series which starts at the weekend. I can't say anything that hasn't already been said, but this scene in which Julius Nicholson ('blue sky thinker, ex business guru, dog rapist') outlines his new idea to Glenn, Olly and Hugh made me helpless with laughter. Also, Peter Capaldi is most excellent and Tucker's law is the mantra that has been getting me through the tougher portions of this week.

I'm trying to decide whether to bid on these shoes and I'm also still trying to decide on my winter coat. Decisions, what?

I'm not crying, I don't know what this is. I didn't even cry when I got shot!

I had originally planned to write something yesterday, but I had a very discouraging day at work, which made me want to curl up in my pyjamas and eat chips, which is just what I did. Normally my job is very enjoyable but yesterday I had to phone some local councils for information. I thought this would be quite easy, but I was wrong. In the main, it was just frustrating as I was bounced around from department to department, but I encountered one or two unhelpful people, and one man who was rude in the extreme. I'm not going to name names or anything like that, but I was flabbergasted to be spoken to so rudely by a representative of a local authority. I think maybe I am too easily annoyed by this sort of thing but it really put a cloud over the rest of the day for me. I used to work in a call centre, in a customer services context, so I have encountered rudeness like this before. I used to deal with rude callers by being extra polite, and this is what I did yesterday as well, but it really did affect my mood, and then my mind turned to maudlin thoughts, and everything seemed a bit shabby and crap.

Thankfully Nic was on hand to take me out for a walk and cheer me up, and talk through my negative thoughts with me, and I do feel a great deal more positive today. It helps as well that I am sitting next to a very friendly and cheery colleague, and that my work today has been much more interesting. I have written before how external things like noise can have an adverse effect on my mood, and this is the case here too. I don't know how to filter out the various irritants of modern life such as rudeness, they leave an emotional mark on me like a rash which itches for a few days before it dies away.

I have been re-reading The Diary of a Provincial Lady by E.M Delafield. This book always makes me feel better about life in general because it is so funny, but it is also reassuring that feeling stressed in public situations and awkward in social situations is what everyone feels. I never feel graceful, ever, and the Provincial Lady's struggles with similar feelings is comforting reading. On our way to Sainsbury's on Sunday, Nic and I called in to the tip shop (I love the tip shop) and I found a lovely hardbacked edition of The Lonely Lady of Grosvenor Square by Mrs Henry de la Pasture, who was E.M. Delafield's mother, I'm interested to see what that one is going to be like. I've gone a little bit off topic, I don't quite know how I got social awkwardness out of being annoyed by the extraordinarily rude man on the phone!

Socialising and social grace is something that has been on my mind recently, maybe because I have been reading Provincial Lady. I had a birthday party on Friday evening for my dear friend Tom. I enjoyed it very much and think that he did too, and I have been thinking about it off and on since then. Tom provided me with the guest list, and there were a few people on there who I don't know at all. In the event, only one of them was able to come and he was very charming, but I was very nervous about meeting new people for some reason. It was needless nervousness, in the event, because the party was very enjoyable. C, M and I had baked Tom a Dalek shaped cake the night before the party and despite my many misgivings about presenting it, Tom liked it and it was pretty tasty! I took some pictures of it, but will resist posting them on here because I don't really want to see them ending up on Cake Wrecks

I'll move on from the topic now as my mind is a little fuzzy....

Last night Nic and I watched Working Girl, which he had bought on DVD on impulse. It's a film I've seen a fair few times now, although not for a few years, and I was very pleased by how much I still liked it. For one thing, it was David Duchovny's first appearance on screen (setting him off on the path to Californication so it gets my vote) The film has its flaws, in the way that lots of 80s movies do, but I think it has charm, and I like the way that it refers back to the screwball comedies of the 30s without hitting you over the head with it. Also, Joan Cusack is absolutely brilliant:


Sometimes I sing and dance around the house in my underwear. Doesn't make me Madonna. Never will.

I think the next 80s movie Nic and I will watch will be Big. It's another one I have seen many times, but not for a few years, and one that I hope I'll find as enjoyable as Working Girl.

List of love
This picture of Myrna Loy

Cagney and Lacey episodes I've never seen before
Thai red curry

I'd offer you a beer, but I've only got six cans.

No serious blog this time, as I haven't been thinking any especially serious thoughts this week. Also, my last effort at writing about something other than what I have been doing....well, I think it needs to be refined a bit!

Last week was my birthday, and it was lovely. I have already written about the Vortex Jazz Cruise, which Nic took me on a week before my birthday, so I won't talk about that again. I had a good but uneventful work week, and had Friday off on leave. I had a really enjoyable birthday, starting with poached eggs on toast with Nic, and the second part of my birthday present from him. This was every episode of Cagney and Lacey, with a handwritten episode guide and a comic strip birthday card. Put like that it sounds a little bit bald, actually, but I love Cagney and Lacey and it is a programme that holds some significance for us, so I was delighted. We spent the morning watching a few episodes (it was very exciting to watch episodes I had never seen before) and then had a potter around town and lunch in Warwick. Tom and Paul came over in the evening bearing gifts and cards (Jeeves and Wooster, The Likely Lads and some other hand-made presents) and M joined us shortly after for a drink before going over to the Somerville. I felt very lucky to spend the evening surrounded by the people I love.

Nic and I had a stressful time trying to get back to Northern Ireland as planned, but we did eventually make it (I won't bore you with the details!) and it was worth the stress. My parents met us at the airport and took us to Bangor for an afternoon out. I'd never been to the NI Riviera before, and it was a lot of fun. I think my mother was a bit disappointed with the seafront itself - she had been expecting it to be more like Bournemouth, I think, but we climbed over the rocks and walked along the beach and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. And it really is very pretty:



My dad tried to make friends with every dog on the beach, with varied success. Nic and I both had a paddle in the sea, which was beautiful, but I had forgotten how annoying wet sand is in your shoes. After a wander around the town, we headed over to Donaghadee and walked out onto the pier:


Again, I had never been to Donaghadee before. Maybe it was partly to do with the time of the evening, but I thought it was beautiful. We had dinner in a seafood restaurant (it was our only choice, but they did also have vegetarian food) and then stopped to buy Nic his pudding:

We stopped off with my grandma and aunt on the way home, and it was quite late before we got back to Dungannon. My sisters and brother were there, and so was my birthday present from my parents:

Shiny, beautiful new shoes! I did feel like a little girl when I put them on because I was so excited. My mum was delighted as well, as she had chosen them - always a bit of a risk to try to pick out shoes for someone else, I suppose! Anyway, our time at home was very short so Nic and I spent as much time as we could just pottering around the house and chatting to my mum and dad. We had lunch in Coffee Bean a few times, and in Menarys. This has become a tradition, every time Nic and I are in Northern Ireland we go to Menarys. It is reassuring - so little really changes in Dungannon.

On Tuesday evening Nic and I met up with my old friend Paul for a few drinks in Hagan's on Irish Street. It was one of the best evenings out I have had for ages - I haven't seen Paul for a few years, and he and Nic had never met. Within a few minutes they were getting on like old friends, and it was one o clock before we knew it. It is unlikely, I suppose, that anybody reading this will be visiting Dungannon any time soon - but on that slight chance I can highly recommend Hagan's for a good night out, with table service! It was so good to see Paul again - he has been a good friend for a long time and I'm hoping that a visit to Hagan's with him will become as much as a tradition as getting a coffee in Menarys with my parents.

Maybe reading this blog entry was a bit like sitting through someone's holiday photos - so maybe I will try to write something a bit more interesting or topical next time.

List of love
Colm Meaney in The Van. The film couldn't quite do what the book did, but I enjoyed it all the same. Colm Meaney is so cute!
My new shoes (I'm still highly excited about those)
Coffee Bean
Club Tonic Water in my gin and tonic (not as good as Schweppes, much better than Britvic)
Skimming stones in the black lough
King of the Hill
Jeeves and Wooster
Excellent Women by Barbara Pym
Finding money in my Ulster Bank account

List of loathe
Ryanair planes. Oh, boke! I though travelling on a Virgin train was bad, at least they're not trying to sell you something every five minutes. Also, you know a plane is cramped when I am stuck for leg room.
Extreme hangover cures