You're reading it – so you're partially guilty…
Right now I should be asleep.
I should be being sensible and making sure I’m not tired when I drive to Wales tomorrow [checks clock] when I drive to Wales today.
I don’t want to be sensible. In my experience being sensible never really ever got me anywhere and, in fact, when I look back, the times when I was not sensible were actually a lot more fun and the moments when I really felt alive.
Passion and love count 99 percent of everything in the world.
Discuss.
Ah Spring is on its way. The daffodils are starting to flower and the trees already have blossom on them. For some reason I woke up this morning in some kind of alpha state with an absolutely inspirational idea for a program (I can’t describe it here since I don’t want anyone who randomly reads this to nick the ideas – I know of at least two business competitors who actually read this blog which, quite frankly provokes in me feelings of “oh shit” to “ha ha, oh shit”).
I’m about to nip out and buy some stuff to fulfill some of today’s objectives. The running order for today is:
Woke up, superbly drowsy after being totally knackered from work yesterday. Made cup of tea, realised I had a humgously brilliant idea and a moment of pure clarity for a new product. Everything came rushing into my head at once and as I drank my must-have ritualistic cup of morning tea (see previous blog entries en passim for correct builder’s strength and preparation technique. I’m still not buying the milk molecules thing btw young midwife…not for a minute).
Looked at flat and assessed the damage of the winter months and the scale of the task to repair it. I had already decided that today was “spring clean the flat day”. Checked my emails. Some lovely ones from secret admirers. Check online banking, excellent, I can afford to buy stuff like food and cleaning materials. Checked news. Noted absence of earthquakes and floods in surrounding area. Removed tin foil hat and water wings. Changed my Vista laptop’s background to this blast from the past (you’ll need Flash installed to view it). Slightly mourned the old background which featured a car and a snow scene from a potential playground.
Ran bath. During bath decided I really really really must buy an Edith Piaf album and play L’Accordeoniste. Piaf was a tragic genius, a true artist and a remarkable poet of a depth that only this kind of tragedy can produce.
Got out of bath, and lit sandalwood incense stick. Smiled at fortunate life of single male, slightly naughty disposition with own flat and no flatmates (wanted or needed) and realised I probably could not get away with half the things I do if I lived with anyone.
I made a shopping list:
The flat now smells totally of Sandalwood. So I’m off now to do the stuff on the list. Then, when I am back and done I am going to watch Control which arrived courtesy of Amazon DVD rental.
Meanwhile; whilst you’re waiting, enjoy Edith in full swing and perhaps you’ll agree (even if you don’t speak French) that this performance is an exemplary example of artistic passion and poetic visualisation.
For the benefit of Lisa* who, being American, believes tea can be cold and drinkable (wrong) or made from fruit (perverse, and wrong):
No, more like this http://www.flickr.com/photos/lemon_farmer/154952979/ (with the teabag removed, obviously) 🙂
To do it properly (especially if you work with me):
Don’t put lemon in it.
Don’t put ice in it – ever.
If it goes cold – throw it away and make another one.
If it’s not brown, like wood, you’ve made it wrong.
Most of us British have our own preference for teabags, tea leaves and method. There are likely to be several comments on this blog from fellow British bloggers with their own withering replies on how a “proper cup of tea” should be made. Many, for example, believe it a cardinal sin to “put the milk in first” which is the subject of much debate and scandal amongst colleagues. My BIL, for example, says that even to wash out his teapot should be punishable by torture followed by a merciless death and that teabags “contain the sweepings from the hull of a ship” (not true, honest). Earl Grey is what you get when you accidentally spray perfume near a decent cup of tea – don’t do it.
Oh, and we don’t call our hot drinks by boy’s names such as Joe, Sam, Benny or Frank and no-one outside of 1930’s East-end London calls tea “a cup of char” any more.
Now, Lisa, go off and make me a cup of tea please love – I’m parched. 😉
*Side note: When I first wrote this post Lisa and I had become “blogging buddies”. Now, two years on we’re married. How lovely is that? 😀
OK, big mistake. I took the One Show’s male/female brain test.
I thought I’d share the results with you.
Not, as you can see, exactly what I was expecting. Apparently I have a woman’s brain.
The break down is even more thrilling – I can read your mind (note the 10 out of 10, get me!):
but, apparently my mastery of the English language makes me a girl. Blokes can only grunt and make fire.
This explains a lot… 🙂
You know you’re flipping out, but you just let it happen….
Bleh. Back to the Absinthe.
Random things I have done in the last few days (your turn next)…
Have fun.
Filth, lies, truth and blame 