It’s Christmas Eve, babe! Excuse my recent hiatus, but what better day to make my return. I’m down south and it’s unseasonably warm, isn’t it? I’d just love a bit of snow to complete the scene. Anyway, I arrived with a suitcase full of velvet, gasping for a glass of fizz (after the compulsory nightmare of train journey). The next few days will consist mostly of said velvet and said fizz. It is the law, after all. Must dash, Christmas drinks party to prepare for this evening. See you soon, Santa lad!
Apologies for what is about to happen. It looks like Christmas is truly upon us (me).
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
On Friday we picked up our tree. I say we, but I mean the boy. And it’s the most beautiful, stumpy, plush tree. It’s a boy, clearly. He’s covered in baubles of the finest calibre. I could never not have a tree. It completely transforms the atmosphere and gives me the Christmas tingles than can only mean one thing – it’s imminent! Here he is, in night and daywear.
Now that the tree’s up, it’s acceptable to watch Home Alone, 1 and 2. And laugh my head off. I love them both.
Or rather, moaning about the weather. It really has been dreadful. I don’t mind the cold at all. It’s the wind, rain, hail stones and sleet I have a problem with. Today, for example, I’ve got
wrapping paper to buy stuff to do. I need to leave the house. But it’s so hard to drag myself out there in the torrential rain. And if it stops for a minute, don’t be fooled. It’s on and off like you’ve never known before. Unbearable. I need me some waterproofs.
My Christmas jumper.
I can get away with lots of things now that the tree’s up. It’s my excuse for everything. Like, I keep telling the boy he has to be excited, now the tree’s up. (He’s not). Anyway, I’ve been blasting the Christmas tunes and sporting this rather dashing jumper with joy in my heart.
My favourite Christmas song.
Our cheeks are nice and rosy, and comfy and cosy are we.
I’ve been something of a lousy blogger this week. My apologies. When I’ve not been being knocked over by the ferocious winds, I’ve been working. And when I’ve not been working, I’ve been sleeping/eating/reading/etc. Today, however, I am blogging and then CHRISTMAS SHOPPING. I’ve got to get totally organised as I’ve got less than a handful of days left free before the day itself. I’m even going to whack on a Christmas jumper to keep myself on track. The main plan for today is to make sure I don’t try on or, much more importantly, BUY anything for/pertaining-to-in-any-way myself. That’s the aim. Whether it happens or not is a different kettle of roasting-chestnuts entirely. If I do come back with something for myself (not that I’ll be telling you lot, let alone admitting it to myself), you have my permission to pull a face like Twiggy’s below. A bientot!
It’s been ages – years, probably – since I’ve had guilt-free days off. Thanks to my situation post-graduation (yeah, that graduation that I didn’t even go to – so left-wing), my days off have come to be little but an opportunity to job-hunt and better myself. Obviously, I’m human, and sometimes I need days off and holidays to recuperate, so it doesn’t always go that way. If I do ever have a day off on which I laze around or drink booze, I always have tinge in the back of my mind that I should be doing something more productive. In the last couple of weeks, however, with a little bit of work experience and some freelance work on my side (hopefully marking a shift in my luck and some promise for my future) I have felt that guilt lifting, ever so slightly. Not that I’ve had a day off, of course. But today, I do! My first in 20 days. My parents are on their way up, my guilt’s on it’s way down, and we’re going to shop and, naturally, drink booze. For this reason, this is my only fad this week. I literally couldn’t concentrate on one more thing. (Except the dentist. More on that feat another day.) And in celebration of this day off? Ska.
I haven’t had a day off in 18 days. And even that day, 19 days ago, didn’t really count as a day off, because I wasn’t feeling well for one reason or another.
Nothing to do with Jack Daniels. And I’ve got two more juicy days of work ahead of me. But it’s not all that bad because I saw my name in print for the first time today. Nice. But like I say, I’ve got a manic couple of days ahead, so I probably won’t be around here much. Follow me on twitter, though. No doubt I’ll have some right-wing not-right to moan about on there. Anyway, I’m off to bed to finish my book. More on that when I’m done – I just thought I’d better check in and ask you all to stick around. I’ll be right back!
Yes, this will be a fad intermittently until the time is actually upon us. We went to the markets at last this week, but they were so busy that we just had a sausage and a beer and then escaped. Need to pick a quieter time to go. Also, I booked my trains to go home-home for Christmas. Heading south. Hopefully I won’t have to drag my suitcase through the snow to get the station, like last year. Also, there may or may not be another TBA dress on my imaginary Christmas list.
I worked from home for the first time ever on Friday. Aside from the fact that that is wonderful in itself, it also meant that I could partake in a bacon-sandwich-lunch-break. My favourite kind of lunch break. Burnt toast, a slick of butter and loads of ketchup, and piled high with an abundance of crispy bacon. Perfect.
Thanks to Zane Lowe, of all people, I saw Definitely Maybe trending on Twitter this week. Which forced me to give it a little whirl of my own. I will always love it.
Because I am Matilda, I am desperate to see this.
This has already been a fad once before. But like Christmas, this is going to be an intermittent one. Until February. WHEN WE GO TO BERLIN. Eeeeeep! Finally, we’ve booked a holiday. And we’re staying in basically the trendiest hotel you’ve ever seen. And we’re just going to hop from trendy bar to trendy bar. You know the drill. So excited.
Today I worked from home. For the first time ever. It’s, like, my ideal situation. Only nagging problem was the fact that the boy happened to be off too. Turns out, he’s like a toddler when you’re trying to work from home. In the end, I set him a baking task to keep him occupied for a while, which resulted in me getting way involved anyway. First it was the argument about whether to use the electric whisk or not (I was saying yes, he was saying no – I won). Next, I gave him strict chocolate-melting-instructions and he was doing fine. That is until I heard him utter This chocolate isn’t runny enough, I’m going to add some hot water and BOOM. Just like that. Before I had time to jump up and say no. A spoonful of water and solid lump of chocolate later, the boy looked somewhat crestfallen. It’s one of those mistakes you’ll never make twice.
So, anyway, I’ve finished my day’s work and emailed it off to my editor (haaa, you don’t realise how absurd this sounds, but I just couldn’t resist) and we managed to salvage some of the dessert. And we’re having steak for dinner and an early night with books as we’ve both got to be up early. Et voila.