So wazza plan?

Well the TB and me are sick of boring ourselves stupid, so rather than attempt to recreate what we have here when we move the plan is...

1. TB takes job with current firm
2. I set up on my own doing something or other....plans to be formalised
3. Rather than buying a house we build one, hence avoiding stamp duty on the move as you only pay stamp on the plot and not the build....


2+ 3 = 1 completely ridiculous idea, but what the hell, time is marching on and we'll soon be coffin dodging with the best of them, time to go for it.

In the spirit of which - the AB is going to sit the scholarship exam for a terrifyingly expensive public school, 'cos she likes the look of the cadet force, if she gets the scholarship she can go!!

Lunch

When you work all day in an office (however supposedly high flying!) the boredom and inertia level is such that lunch can become something of a highlight. So I am a bit obsessed about the quality of my twenty minute break.

And have reached the following conclusion; good coffee = pants sandwiches and vice versa. I like Starbucks coffee but their butties! And cafe Nero ones are worse still. Pret has great sanwiches and coffee that makes you wish your tase buds hadn't bothered. Our local owned sandwich bars have the same problem - my favourite chicken tikka panini comes with burnt coffee...yuk!

Any answers???

Never challenge a welshman;

Extract from conversation on Skype:

Lippy; after all that I fuss about buying one I left the rabbit vibrator in my hotel room last week and i'm too embarassed to ring and ask for it back.

Tickers; I'd ring, I have no shame, that's £40 down the pan, give me the number.

Lippy; 020 ***** ******


Tickers; Ok I have a call to make.....


Lippy; I don't beleive this

Tickers; Took a bit of explaining, I had to say, you know, a rabbit, a vibrator , a sex toy , but they will ring me back if they find anything, although the chamber maid has probably knicked it.

Lippy; Oh MY GOD!

Channelling Winner's Dinners, just for Frobes;

Caraffini is one of those sleek, shiny, caramel blonde Italian restaurants on Lower Sloane Street. The waiters wear deep royal blue shirts to perfectly set off deep tans and deeper brown eyes. They weren't exactly in the mood for a bunch of stiff, middle aged lawyers wanting to talk shop, but they made the best of it.

Of the starters the special of crab ravioli with prawns in a sea food broth, was a clear winner, technically perfect with a "don't try this at home" warning. The chicken livers were good - but almost everything else came with the over ubiquitous "balsamic" and so became a taste merge. I had rabbit for the main course - too salty for me, I think the duck with bitter orange would have been a braver and better choice. Service was quick with a polished slightly over rehearsed charm. And despite the chef's assurances to the contrary the chocolate mousse was made with cream, and not just eggs and chocolate as the bistro classic purist in me demanded.

The following night the girlies and I retired to the Hoxton Grille to talk telly and giggle in a "those blokes at the next table are totally checking us out" kind of way. Little cousin is working on the new Jim'll Fix it Show and has lots of great stories, best mate was interviewing the Lord Chancellor for a serious documentary andt the parallels between their two experiences were a bit alarming. The Grille was as ever fabulous - I had the most perfect steak with chips and bernaise sauce, and it was so good that I didn't care what anyone else was eating! There was no room for puddings but the house espresso is excellent. The staff are young, good looking, enthusiastic and tell me I'm their favourite regular - flattery will get you everywhere.

The murk in my brain and the joy on my plate!

I am so bad at taking criticism it's pathetic. A couple of things go wrong and I first of all bridle at it and then sink into a slough of self hatred and "why am I so crap" ness. All very juvenille - but honestly heart felt and something I really really struggle to deal with.

Self esteem being less than a milimetre thick and put to the test at every turn it seems to me.

Oh well never mind.

Ate a lot of nice dinners in London - although the Hoxton Grille steak took a lot of beating, Lincoln's Inn dining does very nice canapes and there is an Italian in lower Sloane street that made a crab ravioli soup that was an absolute dream!

Future undecided

It's strange isn't it how once you have made the decision to move from something - in my case a job, you can't get out of there soon enough!

Unfortunatley due to contract terms and school year looks like I have to stay where I am until end of June 2007, it'll probably soon go, but seems like an age from where I'm standing.

I have a day off in London - yay, party to go to tonight, but between now and then no commmitments!

Biggest decision of the day, what to have for breakfast!

Really not fair!

Something strange seems to have happened to my alcohol metabolism. I now go straight from the drink to the headache, without the being bladdered part in the middle. Sign of age you think?

It's the weekend!

Nothing to do and all weekend to do it in ! At last and hurrah and stuff.

OK got people coming around for lunch tomorrow but that doesn't count really - just knock off the usual roast dinner and drink plenty and all will be well!


I actually got to walk through the doors of the Royal Courts of Justice on the Strand for the first time yesterday - pretty pathetic considering I have been qualified for twelve years. Appeared in front of a Queen's Bench Master - unlike most lower court appointments there are no chairs in a Master's room, he sits, you stand, thus firmly establishing the order of priority. He was utterly scathing about my application and then granted it anyway..then had to burn around London wall in a taxi to serve the thing by hand before 4.30. All exciting stuff at least the cabbie thought so. Got to go back next week to finish the job.

But before then we have Robin Hood - it is pants, it really is, but it has cute boys so who cares.

And Torchwood- although is there a night in the week when Torchwood isn't on telly?

And next week - THE NEW JAMES BOND! - can't wait - looking like my ideal Bond from here, sort of Rough-U- Like Bond! Yummy

Infamy, Infamy..they've all got it in for me!

You know those weeks when the world is against you - boss, colleagues, the man on the bus who doesn't even know you.

Add to this Frobisher accusing me of knocking back the cooking sherry (Marsala darling, cooking sherry, the very thought!)....and you have the makings of a very bad week.

Moderation

Last post had to go - I don't take it back, but given the content probably best not to advertise. The reason I was so incensed? I am organised, VERY, and I'm sorry if the work is hard but don't blame me if you can't keep up!

Coming Down...

Having spent the whole of October running on adrenalin it's come down time, and as always it feels bloody awful.

At these times though - however strong the temptation to sleep for two days it must be resisted, otherwise I feel worse. So, shopping, long dog walk, firework party next door....everyone else was driving so we of course had to keep our hosts company while they had a drink or several...bad move!!

And friend for lunch today; Lippy's Sunday Lunch Menu - Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding, Roast Potatoes, Roast Parsnips, Carrots, Peas, Purple sprouting broccoli, creamed celeriac, gravy. And for pudding home made tarte tatin and clotted cream. Lovely - and clearly a good part of the reason I am such a size 16 lard arse! (as I have a US reader I'd better translate - that's a 12)


I do need to try to get fitter so I cope with the maddness better ...


Still telly tonight, in the blue corner we have Torchwood - we like Captain Jack, although so obviously the token yank friendly lead, we like the nasty plots - but wasn't the alien sex fiend an episode in the first series of Angel??...anyway that's nit picking Torchwood is class telly, and may with a little work even become telly royalty like Dr Who.

Underpants over trousers !

Outside the covers of a John Grisham novel it's a rare day on which a lawyer gets to play the hero. But just occasionally I get to pull someone's business out of the fire, save them from the consequences of their own stupidity and have the large scary baliffs who have come to take their home away slink away hurt.

And guess what - today is one of those days. And it's a crisp, clear, frosty November morning too.

So underpants on over trousers boys, I'm sure we can leap another couple of tall buildings while we are at it.

Old story but good...

Years ago I had a very good male friend who had been a lover. He was great fun, very funny, played in a rock band , but had a bit of a problem keeping his clothes on in my company. This led to a few bizarre incidents with me fully clothed and him naked drinking cups of tea.

His explanation..."it's like when Hindus take their shoes off before they go into the temple. When you go into a sex goddesses room you take your clothes off!"

Cute - but not cute enough to make me carry on shagging him!