Writer's Block

I have writer's block. So, ironically, (is it ironic? I'm nto 100% sure I know what ironic is any more in this post Alanis aftermath of questions.) I am doing some writing to try and help me with my writer's block.

How are things? Are you well? I mean, it's been a while hasn't it?

I think we're just going to have to accept that for a while, a weekly blog is all I can manage. I'm really sorry to let you all down. I realise you depend on me for entertainment in this age of CGI and JLS and other 3 letter phenomenoms.

I'm on a bit of a downer if I'm honest. This time last year I was approximately 24 hours away from being up to my neck in snow as I pranced around Lapland in my elf suit and generally had the time of my life. Prancing was slightly inhibited as the snow necessarily makes that difficult. this year I'm having to settle with watching Elf on my bed and preparing to go into the office tomorrow. It's just not as good, let me tell you.

I think next year I'll go back to Lapland. An adventure like that definitely shouldn't only happen once - look at Lord of the Rings - there's a reason it's a trilogy. The vague plan right now is to go on a big tour of Scandinavia and Northern Europe and see the Norwegian fjords, ice hotels and more northern lights. With any luck I can persuade someone to pay me to write about it while I'm there. That way you can come too. If you want to. But you're not obliged.

I guess I went on a date last night. I think it was a date? You know when you go on something and it kind of seems like it's a date but you're not sure if it's definitely a date? I met up with a boy and went to a bar and had some drinks? That's a date right? It's been a freaking long time since I went on a date. Maybe I need to start keeping some sort of checklist for features which make an evening a date?

I'm not sure why I went on a date: historically I loathe dating. I find it tedious and boring and the vats majority of the date is utterly superfluous. You know within the first 10 minutes whether there is chemistry and then beyond that it's just waiting to finish dinner and pay the bill. Baffles me as to why people continually subject themselves to this mind numbing shite.

I think the worst date I ever went on was the one that got followed up with a text saying - "It would be really nice to see you again, but I understand if you got all the material you needed from that one dinner." Ouch! Catty much? As it turned out, I did get enough material from that one dinner once he had sent that text. But he was flattering himself if he thought he'd factored on my radar prior to his insecure outburst.

I mean, Sex and The City would have you believe that dating is glamorous and exciting and either hilariously entertaining or so sizzling that you're shagging in just a pair of Jimmy Choo's before you've even ordered a starter. What they fail to tell you is that 90% of actual dates end with you both trying to manage expectations of where this is going.

I will definitely call you.

And I will definitely pick up the phone. Pro-mise.

Well, good! That's just good. That's so good. I can't wait to see you again.

Oh me neither. Well, bye!

Bye then!

*Cue running in opposite directions*

It's certainly not as glamorous as Samantha's moaning would have you believe. Lying bitch.

Bingo Jells

Never try and write the title first. That's the first rule of writing anything. Once you've not written the title first you should also not write the first line. Just because it's best to write the rest of it first and then that stuff will come to you afterwards. It's best to always start with the second line if you can but don't force it if it isn't forthcoming. So maybe just write off writing the first paragraph.

Writing's a complicated game. Without a rule book. One day - will people refer to writing as typing? There's a thought.

I went to the Christmas department in Harrods today and felt effortlessly glorious imagining the house I will one day own with a massive tree in the centre of the living room. We'll be blissfully carefree over the needles dropping lightly to the floor as we'll have a hardwood surface and so they are easily vacuum cleaned - these things are important.

The presents under the tree will usually start in nice piles for whether they're mine, Locke's, Ruby's or my husband's - but as the kids get excited shaking them and exploring they'll get messier and messier. We'll have a 'strictly no Christmas tree chocolates before Christmas' rule and although Locke and Ruby pester me I never give in. My husband gives in all the time. This is because the kids prefer me - not him - and so he has to buy their love. I pretend to be mad at him but I don't mind. I adore him and so I'm OK with the balance of our parenting. We're an excellent team.

On Christmas Eve we let the children decide if they'd like to go to church for the midnight service with their Grandma. They'll find this exciting until they're about 16 and then they'll stop. We'll all have mulled wine and I'll put the children to bed. Then my husband will let me open my Christmas Eve present from him. It's always sexy pyjamas and a nice dressing gown but I act surprised and immediately put them on. Then we snuggle up and watch a film and then we get everything ready for the next day and go to bed.

Then next morning all the family are round (this is the year we're at mine) and everyone has a great time saying hello and getting down to opening the presents slowly throughout the day. We have a huge lunch and swear blind we'll never eat again before promptly declaring we want leftover sandwiches an hour later.

I think Christmas is a really good measure of a family and people. I'd like to think a person's on my wavelength if we have similar views on Christmas and how it should go. Also, if you measure proximity to Christmas by viewings of the Coca Cola advert and a shift in TV adverts away from 'Have you had a slip or trip anywhere...' and closer to 'buy a mince pie fatty'.

I realise this may seem a little early for a Christmas themed blog - but hey ho. It was what's on my mind. It was either this, X Factor or some neurotic ramblings about how I have an inability to be cool with the opposite sex.

Children Are Lucky

I've spent the last hour watching CBBC shows on demand on my TV. It's been pretty epic if I'm honest. An hour well spend in my humble little tiny opinion. I learnt in the last hour that I don't really approve of small bears that scream and have faces like socks that have been punched. I also learnt that I'm a massive fan of giant red monsters. Also, that in children's TV - the bigger the creature the stupider it is and the deeper the voice. Those are some facts.

I've also eaten a lot of prawns tonight. A LOT OF PRAWNS. Absolutely loads. But they were delicious. And I put them in some kind of home made lemon type sauce. I feel pretty domestic and great right now. I've been wanting to be more domestic lately. I think there might be some kind of maternal strings pulling in my innards. I'll probably have a baby next week. Or something like that anyway.

I don't have a great deal for you I'm afraid bloggypoose. I've not thought a single profound thing all day. Shocking - I know. Erm, nope - I'm really dredging as much as I can think of. There's nothing.

I could make something up? Yeah, I'll do that.

So, I was staring out the window and I saw a small bird. And the small bird was arguing with a massive bird - I think it might have been a cormorant.

The small bird bottled the big one. That was it. Fight over.

I think the moral of the story is that you don't want to piss of a hummingbird. The reason they hum, it turns out, is to try and keep their tempers. If you disrupt the humming cycle then they get quite angsty and may stab you.

We're learning.

Day 1 of New Job

Erm, so - this might well be the smallest blog I've ever done and these are the reasons for it:

1. Yesterday was the first day of my great new job.
2. I was assigned 18 clients to look after.
3. I need to have a meeting with all 18 clients before Christmas.
4. I went out after work and polished off an entire bottle of Champagne.
5. Today is the second day of my great new job.
6. Ouch.