The Special People Club

Hooray! House move is done except for foodstuffs (tomorrow at lunch or Friday after work) and cleaning up rubbish for the bin man on Monday AM, which I will do on Sunday morning. HOORAY!

My friend michaelg has been making me laugh now for well over 35 years. Today, he succeeded yet again with this . That poor girl. Bless.

I am moving next week, and though you wouldn't know it looking at my house, at least my fridge and pantry are getting down to nothing. I'm especially trying to get things out of the freezer because those things are just a hassle to move. With a little planning ahead, I've actually eaten quite well for the last week or so. Tonight, I did this (FYI, the plate is a side plate size...these are not mushrooms the size of a human head): Grilled portobellos with chorizo stuffing Find: 4 decent size portobello mushrooms Sundried tomatoes, which you rehydrate a yellow pepper two slices of bread some spring onions a clove of garlic olive oil a bit of chorizo , preferably the Spanish kind that is like a hard salami bologna ring, or thin slices of the salami kind will do in a pinch Boursin light cheese Preheat broiler Chop the garlic, spring onions, part of the yellow pepper, the chorizo (maybe a thumbs worth if you have a ring chorizo ) and the tomatoes into tinyish pieces. H

It's been four months since my father died. This has been a horrible couple of weeks. I've been really sad. I've been missing my father terribly. I cry for no reason. A lot. Hard. Sobbing, actually. But then I have to stop it and refocus, because I have gobs of things to do for school, as well as mountains of work sitting on my desk in the office. I want to be able to share the good things happening in my life with my dad and I can't. The emptiness is unbelievable. And if all of this normal grief stuff wasn't bad enough, this week I got pictures of the grave stone via email, which was finally put up earlier this month...and while it gives me closure it still leaves me feeling profoundly sad. People always tell you that when a loved one passes they don't really leave you, that you can feel them with you. I so badly want this to be the case, but I've just not felt that. I feel totally and completely alone. And I'm far from everything that reminds me

It was delicious, and is the first time I didn't put garlic in something in a very long time.

I find that on weekends where I'm stuck at my desk working on coursework I follow the path of least resistance and eat whatever's convenient, and unless I plan ahead it isn't healthy. I have a difficult week ahead, so I made sure I'd gone shopping and could cook ahead so I'd have something decent in the house to eat. My mother used to make the most delicious vegetable beef soup. (She still does, I just haven't had it in awhile so it's a childhood recipe for me.) She'd use left over roast beef, frozen mixed vegetables, broth and some tomato juice or something red. (I am going to get clarification from her later today.) It was a great meal in one bowl, and will keep really well in the fridge for a fast dinner with a salad when I get home from a long day at work and need to jump straight into an MBA project. (Bubs, you're a wise, wise man for thinking twice about taking on school at this ridiculous age.) The problem with this recipe is the requirem

Okay. I just got really creeped out. Here's how. Click on my profile, read the movies and books, and then click on the book called "Squares are not bad", which is a favourite from childhood. There are two people in the blogger universe who cite that book. And the other one is named Melinda, which is not exactly a common name. Now, click her profile and read her movies and books. Someone is playing a joke on me. I think it's Martha Dumptruck.

I've just quoted Spider-Man in my Leadership Skills essay.

I wish swingers would tell you up front about their interests instead of befriending you first. I mean, this seems like something you should disclose.

It is cold here. There is a skim of ice on the pond across the street. It gets dark by 6pm now. There is a distinct blusteriness about the wind. I have spent the day slogging through research and essays. I have completed my paper explaining what I've learned in Managing Mergers and Acquisitions, and am 1/5 of the way through the 2500 word analysis of my leadership skills. I am wearing yoga pants, wool socks and felt slippers, a black t-shirt and a variegated green-black wool jumper (that's a sweater to you yanks,) as it is a bit chilly in the house, even with the heat on. Therefore, I've decided to have a sidecar to warm me up a bit. It's the perfect elixer to defrost from a chill...you can feel it seeping into your bones, relaxing the tension and radiating warmth. It also conjures up a romantic expat exoticness , with a rich Parisian history that reads like a scene from classic movie, as described by Drinkboy : "Recently, while talking with Colin Fields, t

They sleep in capsules , make you diffuse bombs when you wake up in the morning , there's that whole chindogu thing, and now this . There is something seriously wrong with the Japanese.

Tonight I am watching a show called Embarrassing Illnesses . If Tom were here we would watch it and cringe loudly, but without him I don't think I can make it through the whole thing. Here is the description from the digital synopsis: "Patients include Teresa, who has something nasty in her ear, and 20-year-old Jack whose constant and very smelly diarrhoea is ruining his life." There's another episode immediately after that wherein, "Patients include a man whose gigantic hairy mole covers his entire shoulder and a young woman whose life is being ruined by boils that constantly erupt all over her body." What's not to love?

I am totally absorbed in the nitty gritty of finishing my MBA and have been too tired to think of something to say. Thank GOD Some Guy finally gave me a writing task! TO DO: List 5 things you do, did or like that some may consider “totally lame,” but that you are totally proud of. Tag 5 others: 1. I am a Fanilow . Yes, I love Barry Manilow . I know pretty much all of his classics by heart, and have been known to sing them with reckless abandon in public when I am by myself. I haven't been to a concert yet, but the operative there is "yet." Seriously. Barry Manilow rocks. 2. When I first moved to Seattle, I was exceptionally broke. We had no furniture in my apartment, just giant fake fur pillows my mom had made when we were kids, plus mattresses to sleep on and a desk and chair. Oh. And an old dentist's side table we spray painted and tiled, plus a couple of chairs from Target. The building we lived in didn't have a buzzer, so when people came to visit they st

I am likely going to be talking about my friends John and Ed for the next few months because we're working together on a rather large project for Managing Strategic Innovation. (Basically, we're defining a process for assessing and implementing new energy technologies for a UK power company, and the potential for scope creep is phenomenal.) Therefore, I thought I would introduce you to them. This is John, who works at said power company. He is a most excellent dancer, has a dry sense of humour, and we expect him to be quite the taskmaster on the project. This is Ed, who is the Managing Director of a waste management company. Ed is built for rugby but, ironically, might be the most chivalrous person I've ever known. (I mean in a considerate-polite-respectful way...last I checked, he does not joust, though I'm betting he'd look dashing on a horse.) The cubicle we are in is one I seem to spend several hours in each Friday and Saturday. The chairs are not particularly

When this shows up in your email, you know you can trust no one.

I am currently watching the movie Camp. My dearest Tommy turned me on to this, and now I watch it regularly. If you have not seen this movie and you fit any of the following criteria, you should rent it immediately: - You were a teenage drama geek - You were a band or choir geek - You were a teenage drag queen - You love someone who was a teenage drag queen - You loved the movie fame - You love musicals anyway - You like mediocrely acted teen movies - You loved Fame but you can't watch it anymore because of the leg warmers And FYI, you will be happiest if you have creme de menthe and vodka in the house, because when the subservient girl gets hers on the sadistic queen bee, you will want a vodka stinger.

Graham Norton called his great grandmother, "slutty, but nice!" when he found out that his great grandmother was eight months pregnant when she got married. He's quite grateful that he's not the first person to bring shame on his family with an unconventional life. Now he's talking about how his family's pew at church was a bit "ghetto" because some long lost ancestor carved their initials in it. I love this show.

I had to work late tonight, so I came home and took a gander at my kitchen to see what I could scratch up for dinner. Here's what I did: Roasted butternut squash with pecans and blue cheese Find: a whole butternut squash half an onion some bacon some mushrooms some thyme olive oil salt pepper paprika balsamic vinegar some blue cheese Deseeded and cut up a butternut squash. I was too lazy to peel it, but I suppose you could. Toss it in olive oil, some thyme, salt, pepper and a shake or two of paprika. Put it in the oven and roast it at around 400F for half an hour - 45 minutes. NOW. Fry the bacon until crisp, and blot on paper towel. Get rid of most of the grease from the pan, and then put in a half an onion, and some mushrooms, all chopped to bitesize. When they start to soften toss in a handfull or two of pecans halves. (I'm assuming you know to get them out of the shell first.) Cook until all toasty and carmelized, sprinkle with some pepper and then put a couple of dashes

I'm gruelling through my Managing Strategic Innovation written analysis of case. It must be said, innovation audits using the Pentathalon Framework are great, but they are not the funnest way to spend a Monday night when you're getting a cold and have had a piss-ant day at work. So just imagine my joy when iPod heard my silent cries and cranked out Superfreak . I flew up from my chair and have done a helluva boogie around the living room, momentarily becoming Milton Keynes' own Little Miss Sunshine. Join me friends, for a bit of a Rick James spazzout. And shake a tail feather while you're at it, dammit. There's nothing like Superfreak to inspire a little soul train freakout.

I have been sleeping with the radio on lately. The CD player in my bedroom is broken, so I turned BBC 2 radio on the other day and have left it going since. (I know. I'm single- handedly perpetuating global warming. Sorry about that.) I am hearing all kinds of great things I wouldn't have, though. When I get up in the middle of the night for a wee, I hear it. When I am trying to calm myself down after hours of paper writing, I hear it. When I'm drifting in and out of consciousness during my AM snooze-fest (usually a good 45 minutes of alarms every 9 minutes), I hear it. (Apropos of nothing, why did they pick 9 minutes? Not 10, not 5, 9. And I think every alarm clock I've owned is a nine-minute snooze. ?!?) Some of what I hear is good. Some is a bit odd. Some of it is Terry Wogan . But Sunday mornings are the biggest mixed bag of all. Early on, there is a show that is all religious music. It's gospel, it's classic churchy stuff, and it's a bit of pop-C

Southwest Airlines once again censored a passenger for wearing inappropriate clothing. Last time it was the chick in the miniskirt and the boobie shirt. Now it's the guy in the "Master Baiter " t-shirt who was asked to change or get off the plane. They're issuing an apology and trying to downplay the PR nightmare. Why???? I say, "Well done!" I say they're doing a public service here. I say let's send the Master Baiters and the Muff Diving Team and the guys that wear those t-shirts with a big NO sign over male stick figures engaged in intercourse straight to Greyhound where they belong. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying they don't have the right to free speech. I'm saying that morons belong on the bus. The guy says he complied because he was afraid he'd miss the flight and didn't want to miss a day's work. Let me guess. Rocket scientist? Chill out, guy. I mean, I know you think you were making a statement, but I'

This weekend is all about the writing. I had let the fridge dwindle to nothingness and I knew I needed a decent breakfast to fuel my brain, so I set my alarm for 8AM and hit the rode before coffee to get to Sainsbury's before the Saturday crowds. Perfectly timed, and I got out right as people were starting to come to brawls over parking in the lot. I have many delicious groceries waiting to be transformed into delicious meals. This is one of my favourite things, actually...the knowledge that my kitchen contains the ingredients for any number of delicious treats, just waiting for me to decide what to do! I'd gotten a Nigella Express cookbook through the Book People at work (they give us great deals on select items, kind of like Costco except in the lunchroom,) and when I saw that Nigella was beckoning I could not resist. She is my idol. And I've read (yes, read) most of the cookbook while getting ready to sleep, so I have made sure my shopping list contains items require

Which of Henry VIII's wives are you? this quiz was made by Lori Fury

Winter is upon us. Our summer was crap, actually...cold and rainy and very little sunshine...but that happens in England sometimes. But now Winter is definitely here. It is cold. It is blustery. It is getting dark much earlier and a skunk of grey covers the sky. I finally gave up shivering under blankets three weeks ago and broke down to turn on the heat. The toilets at pubs and restaurants are icy-frozen-cold, and you best think twice before sitting. We are in for six months of this, getting colder and blusterier and drizzlier by the month. But the swans are now south for the winter. It's just me and the ducks. We are giddy. There is a spring in our step. We greet the day with a smile. We can stroll at our leisure, knowing the nasty swans are nowhere to be found, threatening with their raised wings and poking necks. Huzzah!!!!! And the bastards didn't even have the decency to say goodbye.