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Sushi Note to self: "Eat as much as you want " is NOT a challenge to see just how many plates of food I can scoff from the conveyor belt. So Guli Gilu isn't Sushi Hiro (yum dainty sashimi), and even less Hazuki (double yum soba noodles with moutain vegetables and a smiling waitress) but we were sat close enough to the start of the belt to snatch the mackerel, snapper, proper tuna (not the horrid tinned tuna bits) and salmon as ther appeared, and I almost didn't care that the waitress got lost on her way to so distant well when she went to fill up the glass of water Chz had requested. |
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1.10.06 21:21 |
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The boon of the hypocondriac It's Sunday evening, I discover that those sachets of Maalox (the link is here if you fell like going past the cheesy intro) I thought I had leftover from the huge box my dad bought me are not in the medicine cupboard anymore so I must have used them all. Do I?
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9.10.06 00:12 |
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Handle with care When somebody becomes an ex quite a few things change other than the sleeping arrangements. However some things just do NOT change. Some subjects need the same careful handling even after one becomes an ex, especially if one still shares a house with the person in question. For example, if one's ex girlfriend, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror sighs "I'm enormous" within earshot, the correct course of action is not to reply "well you have been like that for a while". No amount of "what I meant is I don't think you have put on weight recently" will undo the damage. Oh, how I wish I had the inclination to plot a painful retaliation. I guess some copious amount of sulking and demanding cups of tea will have to do. In other news, the fireworks season started with a bang in 2 neighbouring gardens last night. Diwali , Eid , Bonfire night , then any excuse till the new year celebrations means that there will be pyrotechnics almost every night till January now. This can only mean one thing, the season of darkness when it's time to get up for work is on its way and the light box will have to come back into action soon, why can't I be a bear and hibernate instead? |
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13.10.06 19:42 |
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Saturday in a few words Grouchy wake up, sulkiness, stubborness, literal interpretation, that commute feeling, the wrong platform at Reading station, Oxford, smiles in gowns on Wolfson College quad, sitting by the window, watching the paintings and watching the punts, tears on a long distance call (thanks mate), watching the trains from the Clapham Junction bridgelink but not really seeing them, no proper sunset, noodles that taste better than they look, missed party, holding tight.
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16.10.06 18:38 |
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Wimbledog common With autumn firmly here, the adverts for Kew gardens admonishing us to enjoy it before it's over, sunny weather on our side and a little boy still on a high from "being Jesus" and not stumbling through his reading it seemed obvious what should be done on Sunday afternoon: have what will probably be the last picnic of the year. Armed with a foam pad (in case the grass was wet), a blanket, some bread and soup in thermos cups we headed to Wimbledon Common. The boy did what little boys do when in a park, he flew a kite, climbed trees, called for help when he realised he couldn't get down again, ran around, threw the ball a dog dropped at his feet and admired the dragonflies basking in the sun. I discovered that yellow labradors and golden retrievers just lurve butternut squash soup when within minutes of each other 2 dogs decided to come and lap what little bit The Boy had spilt in the grass earlier and then went rumaging in the bag in case there were leftovers. Bearing in mind how I am such a natural around dog NOT, this provided no end of entertainment to my fellow picnicers (rumours that I was once terrified to tears by a couple of sleeping labradors in a pub are not entirely exagerated though they often fail to mention the level of alcohol in my bloodstream at the time). There was much giggle too at the man who was clearly ignoring the notices not to pick mushroom and was busy describing the variety of fungi he was about to pick to somebody on the other end of his mobile phone, while bent over his potential harvest and showing acres of Y front. Not sure why but a hunch told us he wasn't after information about their culinary uses. I think he wanted to be able to see Wombles . |
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16.10.06 19:00 |
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Child word of the day is: DATALING: handling statistical data as in "what's your homework tonight?", "Maths, dataling, easy peasy lemon squeezy". Now you know. |
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18.10.06 18:42 |
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Wait till we get home You know that feeling when you know you are going to be told off and get a lecture, it's not just a hunch you will get a telling off, you *know* you will because you have been told to expect it and given a timeline for it. Only the time comes and the promised telling off does not happen, you know it is just being postponed and really you have had enough of dreading it you want it over and done with. Well I've got that feeling, I have been promised a telephone lecture by my mum to take place tonight, only it's way past 8pm and the call hasn't come yet, there is a one hour time difference with France, soon it will be past a time when my parents would consider it polite to call, even if it is to give me a dressing down. I have decided the anticipation of it is worse than whatever they can dish out, I want the phone to ring now so that I can quickly go back to living my life in complete denial of their disapproval. Somebody please tell me where I put the box of Zantac . update: the joys of modern communication... no phone call after all but an IM telling off. Like somebody reminded me today "of course they know how to press your buttons, they put them there remember". Tonight the tune on repeat shall be: See the world - Gomez (go on you know you want to download the video just follow the link ) though really it should be Boris Vian 's "On n'est pas là pour se faire engueuler" |
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19.10.06 20:35 |
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