Xmas again

Mmmmm. Nice day. which I suppose christmas day should be. Early-ish start. Bit of silly xmas music, coffee, orange juice, fruit and yoghurt for breakfast (and a little bit of last night's chocolate), prepped the veg, and about half twelve, we went out for a walk. Turned out to be a long walk cross Kew bridge, along to Chiswick Bridge and back. Have realised just how close we are here to some lovely riverside pubs, some MENTAL architecture and some of the biggest houses (with the ugliest cars) in London. Saw lots of birds on the walk - cormorants and herons doing their thing on the Thames, a few robins and wrens hopping around. Got back and on the tree outside my window was a wren - never seen one of them on the tree before, and you'd remember really coz you don't see them much full stop. Anyway, started watching the alternative Queen's speech, got bored, so watched the real thing and also got bored, so started getting dinner ready. Smoked Salmon, rye bread, sour cream with dill and lemon and chrain (horseradish and beetroot). Very good. Phone call from JD - can't help but gloat slightly at happy memories of the carvery at the Trumpet: the world's biggest turkey with sliceable gravy which you need as it's so dry, gritty christmas pud, yum. While we had roast spuds, roast parsnips with maple syrup, carrots in orange juice, stirfried sprouts, homemade cranberry and orange relish, and a lovely chicken with proper gravy (with the remains of the morning's champagne in it). Was going to make chocolate puddings, but we ate so late, and there was the FANTASTIC cheese from Mortimers, and the great slab of chocolate Tim brought with him, so the fridge is now fuller than it was this morning with leftovers and stuff. Telly, presents (book on chocolate cooking from katie, books on words from Tim and a tenner and a really rather ugly necklace from Ma), lots of wind breaking, League of Gents xmas special, made stock from the chicken, and now bed.

Will update this tomorrow when i've got naff all else to do.

Ho ho ho

sunday nice things

- Bloke on Earls Court station, wearing an orange fleece, but obviously still a bit parky, so he skipped - yes dear reader, SKIPPED, round the platform, doing the Morcambe and Wise dance. Perked me up no end.
- lots of nice stuff in Sainsbury's reduced shelf - Aubergine Biriyani. Yum!
- Waking up to see a robin on the tree outside my window. Ho ho ho.
- Pretty much getting all xmas cards done - hurrah!
- Needing more light to read by, and the nearest being the xmas tree. Terribly festive. Had them on steady rather than Mental Disco Flash.
- Hearing Kate Thornton saying on X Factor 'we've already had a million votes and a half'. What, someone phoned up and said 'I would like to vote f...'?
- Wee Boaby doing what he does best on 'Born Equal'. Fantastic cast, and nice to Emilia Fox have something nasty to her. Didn't get into it because of her parents my arse!
- Picallili and Pickled Walnuts. Mmmmmmm!
- Matt Lucas and his fella geting hitched. Congratulations, boys!

facing the facts

Okay, so the deal is this. John left a pair of his pants round here last monday (nothing that exciting - was a pair he'd washed at his place last weekend, and brought round to dry before we headed off Westward - but more of that later), and if that's one of the pairs he's taking away, it is time to get him some new ones. I won't go into details - and I don't think i'd particularly want to go into pants like those either. So headed over to Richmond to Marks and Sparks to get some nice new clean pants, a v-neck vest (they suit him so well, and I think he's only got crew neck with him in Tewkes), and thought i'd treat myself to a new bra - a daily one, as pretty much all my others are for posh. So have a hunt round for 38C in their 'normal' range, which obviously at this time of year is being pushed out (or up?) by the fancy silkie/lacie ones, which are gorgeous, but you can't wear frills under t-shirts or it looks like you have breast cellulite. So looking at the smooth t-shirt bras. pick up a couple in cream and white, a plunge, a balcony, a red in c and d, and then one of the fancy ones, just to have a look. Cause I'm not sure if I'm a c or d cup, as one of my c's gives me extra baps, while the other one is a little too big and gap-ey. So try them on, and hatefully, the fancy one looks best by itself. It turns out my cleavage is at the stage of needing balcony rather than plunge, it also turns out that I am a c, but also that my chest size has got bigger and is now at the point where M and S, that's M AND S people!, don't habitually do that size. This is bad.
Have already gone into the leisure centre to try and sign up - no 'Membership Advisors' in till Monday (oh, and weekend isn't the time when most people come in, presumably?), so I can't sign up till Tuesday (got meeting at SL school on Monday), and I can't usre the gym till then, as I have to be shown how to use a treadmill and how to pick up a 1kg dumbbell. Now because of moving round, I have been on sooooooo many induction courses at gyms, I could tell you the makers spec of most machines, but NOOOOOOOOOOO! I have to have the buttons pointed out to me and shown how to put a metal pin through the weights cradle, so not likely to get going on that till wednesday. Well, of course I could go for a long walk, or do some yoga in the lounge till then, but that's not the point!!!!!!!! All right, maybe it is.
Have been out of AE for 2 weeks and t'other one finished this week, and already I am spending the day slumped in front of the TV and despite having huge yens for greens, this appears to have changed, and have had pizza, Nutella, mince pies and quite a bit of chocolate. REALLY don't want to give myself a coronary before New Year. The bra thing is a big wake-up call. Now i've put this out in the open, it will hopefully shame me into actually doing something about it.
Wait and see.

Weather and christmas

Right. Am sat on my bed with my head covered liberally with toxic chemicals, trying once again to turn back the years - well, I say that, but as I started going grey at 17 (thanks mum!), I'm not sure how true that is. Anyway, got another half hour to wait before rinsing. Hopefully I will not drip in the meantime.
Well, Odd Day! Apparently a tornado hit North London this morning, not that far from Katie's work, she says. Weird weather - really blattery rain hit here at about half ten ish, and skedaddled off after ten minutes. Ripped the side off a house in Kensal Rise. Lots of rain around, and a bit windy after that, but then it is December.

WE HAVE A TREE!! Will upload a photo tomorrow. John's dad dropped it off at Gem and Neil's, so picked it up after private student. No lights or baubles, so stopped off at Hammersmith and got some from Tescos for a tenner. There are rather more than I anticipated, so Katie and I have decided to just leave it with lights, and to put her baubles somewhere else, missus. Oh, and the lights on trees around the Village Green are slowly going up, weather permitting.

Decided to take a day off from reports, so had another lie in, did some tidying, and walked to Chiswick to do a little shopping. Have still been feeling desperate urge to eat green foods, so got some broccoli from one of the stalls, nearly bought some of the most expensive bread in the world from the bread shop, recognised my error and went to Sainsburys instead and got a baguette to have with the lentil soup tomorrow. Also went into every shop that sells CD's to try and get a xmassy one - I want to make John up a christmas CD to take to Tewkes on Monday. Did any one have what I was after? nope. What I really want is the second half of the one that I know is at mum's. slade, wizzard, bing crosby, jonah lewie, Nat King Cole. Yes, I know I could download them, but I don't seem to be able to get the Woollies software to let me make up CD's, so I think I'll just get a CD from Oxford Street - they must have what I'm after. I'll be there tomorrow morning, as I've signed up for another go at the Vidal Sassoon Academy - hence the dyeing now, so I won't have to wash it before Saturday.
Sent John a card today. Have a horrible feeling I am becoming sentimental. Maybe it's just hormones.
Lovely to see Gemma and Neil again tonight. Not that it's been that long, But also good to sort out this other Tewkes trip for John's mum's birthday.
Think I've decided to get the next generation of Howlands a Yak, or an Alpaca or something. HMV vouchers are so pointless. And it'll get them all talking about me, ha-ha!!
Oh and have discovered 4onDemand. This may be a very bad thing, though last night's Starkey on Monarchy (William, mary and Anne) was useful. Loved his very creased trousers and weird voiceovers, stopping at all the line endings, by the sound of it. Must check up if it was his book on Elizabeth we used at school.
Right, better go and poison the water supply with non-ammoniac chemicals.

WE HAVE CHRISTMAS TREE!! YAY!!!

holidays begin

Okay. Good things today... got to have a lie in, got reports done (all fairly painless - as I said to John, the good thing about writing reports for these students is that you don't have to pussy foot around: if it's good you can just say so, and if there's something to work on, you can say it without hurting feelings). Made some good Lentil soup last night, using ras-al-hanout for a little bit of spice.

Found a programme on bbc.co.uk.scotland of scots dance music, presented by a guy with THE best Highlands accent - had it on in the background for ages while checking emails.

Christmas tree went up on the Village green - and it looks lovely. Can't wait to get my tree and stuff from John's now - definitely getting into Xmas spirit: already set off some cards.

John's got a workshop for this writing thing he's been shortlisted for, so I am postponing trip to Tewkesbury. Will meet him in Bromley for Muppets, mincepies and possibly other stuff on Saturday, then he's off to the workshop, so I can write more reports, and then we'll go back to Tewkes together on Monday evening, I'll see the show on Tuesday and come back wednesday morning to see a private student at 2.00.

Should get a chance to get a haircut before the weekend. Have kept some cuttings from the Metro about Vidal Sassoon Academy - loved what they did last time, so why not try again? I have the time.

Mind you, though I say so myself, had a wash and straighten this morning, and despite the Hairdryer not enjoying new brush (little bit of overheating and singeing!), kept it tied back all day to reveal shiny waves of sexiness - and no JD to enjoy it! See for yerself...

Apologies for looking a little mad - I do not seem to have got the knack of actually looking normally into a camera - well, particularly while holding it myself with red-eye reduction on.

Must get roots done.

Oh, and got paid by a company I did work for a month back - so hopefully that's a quick holiday paid for.

Right - main reason for tonights blog - have just seen a programme on Beeb one that has made me more angry than any Big Brother/I'm nearly a Celebrity, etc.

'Make me a man again'.

Not that they made the programme, but the loser in it. His only redeming feature is that at least he is such a fuckin freak that he has taken himself out of the Gene Pool - though I don't think he'll qualify for a Darwin Award, as he already has two kids (who he never sees and who apparently hate him). The story is he/she is an Iraqi, who settled over here, had a wife and two kids, became a successful business man, bought Sheffield United, lost money on it, decided he was actually a woman and within I think four months had had all the surgery, including vocal fold shortening, and was living in a Kensington Mews flat as Samantha. Later on, after I think four years, decided he was given bad advice and wants to get it all reversed and be a man again.

Okay, yes he was given extraordinarily bad advice - as far as I could make out, he split up from his wife, presumably over his wanting to become Sam, she left and took the kids, one of whom wrote him a letter, saying how much he hated him, he had a breakdown, and it was AFTER this that a psychologist recommended him for Gender reassignment. Yep, I would sue the ass off that shrink. However, what was truly jaw dropping is how totally unaware this eejit is. And also suggesting that the reason he got the surgery is cause he had shed loads of money to pay for it. At the beginning we see Samantha, smart car, expensive clothes, great hair, talking about the male to female transformation - the electrolysis, the breast implants, the shaving of the adam's apply - and what he now wants done - removal of the implants and a reconstructed cock. So she goes to Harrods to buy blokes clothes. spends £600 on shirts, and a posh suit, and we see her walking about, but with no change of hair, and still with long manicured nails. Oh and REALLY shit shoes! We then find out that after the female to male surgery, Samantha want so be known as Charles Kane.

really.

Charles Kane.

And no-one thought she might not be temperamentally suitable for treatment.

I mean if you want a nice, strong man's name what's wrong with Bruce Wayne? or Del Trotter, or Bernard Black?

We then see her (not had the surgery yet, remember!) going off to buy a boat. Which is moored up in Newcastle. And she has never sailed before. And it's a bloody big boat. which doesn't work. And still nothing other than the clothes (oh and the loss of the implants) to suggest a more masculine outlook. Okay, so he has a go at drinking a pint, and chatting to some of the local Geordies (wish they'd been allowed to comment!), but I make a far more convincing bloke - and I won't need surgery to change it across genders. No, this... I dont want to use the word creature, as that is not fair to genuine transgender patients, but this guy is not one of these: he is just a rich nutter with an impulsive credit card and no one who will stand up to him and get him sectioned. Yes, the guy is in dire need of psychological help, but you can't hep but think that this could never have happened if he'd lived on, say, a teacher's salary.

Yes, I will hugely admit that I am in nearly full radical marxist mode at the moment, and the fact that he is a property developer puts him/her in the same category as lawyers and advertising executives in the Bill Hicks 'Shoot yourself now' listings. Because of people like Whichever Kane, property prices are crippling this nation, destroying the family unit, uppng the stress levels and the self-absorption to chronic levels, and he is using it to pay for surgery which is WASTED, when people are dying, not merely abroad but in this country for lack of access to drugs or preventative surgery. Yes, I know he went private (I think I would kill if it was NHS), but how can it be that a narcissistic, self=pitying c##t like that is allowed by the Lord to have that much money and not share the wealth and make other's lives substantially better, as opposed to a couple of Geordie boat fitters and an already wealthy Harley Street surgeon. Should NOT have watched it after 10 Years Younger. I will forEVER curse the day I saw that Afrikaaner Stick Insect from the top of a bus, and failed to drop something heavy and pointy on her capitalist, shallow, botoxed skull. I can think of no one I would like more to hear had been violently mugged... Must also remember that we have freeview now, and a large collection of DVD's (including Planet Earth from this morning!!!), so am not compelled to watch it. And those who go on it do put themselves up for it, so are literally asking for the comments that are made about having too strong a nose, and not curvy enough teeth.

Now Thirty Days was good, taking an American whose job had been 'outsourced' to India to India to see how those outsource workers lived. He was a nice straight up guy, as were his hosts, who were making good living for themselves with the opportunities that the Telesales companies had given them, but the Janitors and street workers still living in tents in the streets, or three families to one house, but still happier with their lives that that Iraqi tw#t or an of the self-obsessed 'oh, i've been too busy living a real life doing manual work/raising children to cleanse, tone and moisturise each night, and now my life has no meaning' eejits on 10 Years. Wonder what would happen to that show (or most of the other makeovers), if they sent them for the haircut first. Probably much shorter programme, but as effective, most likely.

Right, I',m all GRRRR-d out now. Think I shall crack open the Attenborough and watch something really worth caring about.

I suspect the neices and nephews will have to enjoy having given a yak to a Bhutanese farmer for christmas this year....

... oh why don't I just go and live in a commune for a year?

Grrrrrrrr!

BTW - really want to make sure that it is understood that my reaction to the Sam/Charles person is nothing to do with the transgender issue. in my profession, I have too much interest in the changes between male and female NOT to understand those kind of gender issues and have sympathy for them. No, this guy was just a pillock, who saw buying a new gender in the same light as buying a boat, who the human race could lose quite easily and not notice. His issues would be very effectively solved by becoming bankrupt.

smily sunday

third of december and a butterfly flew around the balcony!

Got to have a lie in - hurrah!

Long chat with John - nice. looking forward to next weekend immensely.

Bought freeview box, and it works! Planet Earth crisp and clean - Mouse Lemurs are the cutest things, but Amur Leopards and the tiny peruvian thing that I can find nowhere on the internet (well, you try searching for anything with the word 'cat' and see how much sentimental American ornamentation and gift ideas you have to wade through) are locked in battle for most beautiful.

beginning to get xmas spirit - took trip to Hammersmith and bought spicy scented candles and an embroidered star from Oxfam. the star is made of maroon velvet, with beads and sparkles and is just a really nice thing. Will get one for John when I go next week, and add a little something embroidered.

Thoroughly enjoying internal debate with self about whether to post John's self-portrait on blog. Depends if I get any indication that anyone other than self is reading it. Hmmm (mwah-hah-hah!).

Possibly a little bit of work coming up on a Brummie accent. Was thinking about this on my way back from Earls Court last week - what the heck is my accent? which of those pointless Spotlight boxes would I tick? If Tamsin Grieg is down as RP, I suppose I am too, but I slip into something far more urban very easily, depending on context. How much brummie is in there, let alone Northants - or have I got one of those really useful non-identifiable accents? Need another accent coach to answer that one, I suppose.
Oh and must remember to ask Yvonne about voice over demos tomorrow.

click go the shears

Out on the board there, the old shearer stands,
Grasping the shears in his thin bony hands...

One of my earliest memories is of sitting in the bath, splashing happily around, while my dad kept an eye on me, providing musical accompaniment. He had a good, if humble, light baritone, and a regular repertoire - 'The Road to the Isles', a French song about tasting wine, 'oui, oui, oui' and Click go the Shears. My mother was the one with the acknowledged singing talent, a good soprano, whose grandfather had been a professional singer. She did a lot of local amateur concerts, and as I got older, with a good ear for harmony and a developing alto, I would be roped into duetting with her. My dad, a modest man of astonishing skills and knowledge, who took me for walks by the river, pointing out edible berries and once quietly knocking me up a superb whistle out of a sycamore twig with his penknife, was a Manxman through and through. It was the family joke that he hardly spoke, though when he did it was always worth listening to. And though I remember my mum's singing, that is always in public. Dad would give me these private concerts in the bathroom, leaning on the bath rail, amusing me with this odd song from Australia about sheep shearing. And it is only now, as a professional accent coach that I realise that when I try and sing the song, I sing it as I heard it when I was three - with a strong manx accent.

lazy sunday

actually, not that lazy, seeing as I got a whole new New York breakdown done, with maps and practice sentences, all while watching Ireland thrash Australia at the rugby. Got up relatively early today and got the bus to Richmond for a little light shopping. While there is a bit of spare cash, there are some things that I need - like another longish jumper. TopShop had a nice mustard one (and an even nicer wool cowled long thing, which looked great but I int spending forty quid on a jumper). Got the paper and had a proper breakfast with toast, egg, bacon and tomato at an Italian. Was doing really nicely till a rather loud couple sat at the next table. I couldn't help overhearing - no, really, they were both really loud. But I couldn't work out how they knew each other, and why they were having breakfast together, as they seemed to be relatively recent acquaintances - she'd just returned from living in somewhere ex-Soviet, and he seemed to know nothing about it. Was it a weird date? Had they been to a suburban late-thirty something's speed dating evening and was this the morning after? I never fail to be surprised by how loud the middle classes can be, and when there's no need. As opposed to the gang of lasses on the bus back to chiswick, who were obviously out of west indian households. Boy, that's a big noise! And I must do a breakdown of a young contemp londoner - ain't nuffin to do wiv cockney now.
So back to flat, read paper, re-did new york, had large bowl of quinoa and stir-fried veg (to make up for the breakfast), had thorough shower and did hair, sorted out meetings with sarah about next term, and Daron about friday (assuming there will actually be something for him to watch), and then did this.
Happy things? well - buying something that fits and looks half decent is always good.
getting another breakdown sorted always good.
Cooking - always good.
Planet Earth - ALWAYS good (though a little too much on the spider front - oh, and is there anything other than arachnids that does not have ostensibly two eyes (of course I know that flies technically have hundreds, but they are in two sets, not eight).
And best of all, YouTube. Had a good old surf last night and found loads of clips of old movies, including lots of Nicholas Brothers routines and a superb clip of Peter Sellers, in Merkin Muffley mode, chatting on the phone to someone about British accents and slipping seamlessly through a variety of London, RP and Scots. This reminds me. Must ask at work tomorrow about Voiceover demos. Well, i need something to tide me over the hols, and if my voice is my USP, then i really should try and do something with it.
Oh, and trees all looking very pretty at the moment.

Friday

Hmmmmm. interesting day. had morning off from Lamda to go to Charing Cross Hospital to get checked out for growths. Not a nice experience, though hugely impressed by the sheet I was given to preserve modesty (no percale there! Cotton or nowt), by the smoothness of the radiographers arms (don't ask), and by my own eejicy by pulling the big red cord in the loos, somehow, obviously, thinking it was a flush, and being surprised when one of the porters knocked on the door asking if i was okay - doh! You can tell I don't go to hospitals much - I was surprised to see proper shops and a hairdressers in the foyer: bear in mind the last hospital I was in was A and E in brum, getting half a kilo of Northampton's best cobble grit scrubbed out of my palm. Money in from Lamda, so had a little splurge - a moleskine city notebook (Dublin - well i'm bound to go there again SOMEDAY), and some NARS colour wash from space NK (well, the one in chiswick is very good at giving out samples). Not hugely impressed with the quality of work this afternoon - with this group having had another week I would expect utter fluency in the accent, and not dumbass statements like 'Israel is in Saudi Arabia', which kind of suggests a lack of depth in the research process, and certainly a skilin avoiding any reference to the religious and political situation in the middle east. Oh, and nor is 'israeli' one of the official languages!
Then had the nice task of popping over to Lamda to go through a bit of Glesgae with some third years. Am slightly worried that they are now so Weegie that naewan wiw unnerstaun 'em. Will await feedback from Yvonne.
Home via Tescos with a big bag of Revels, an oven Chinese and an evening doing nowt. Hurrah.
Oh, and things which made me smile? Chad and Becca twigging one of the 'nonsense' words on the board (voiceless, post-alveolar fricative: front closing diphthong, starting from mid-open back: voiceless alveolar plosive). And gang of lads getting on the train in the morning, with music tsk=tsk=tsking out of a mobile (there is so much to be said for in-ear 'phones) and bottles of lager at eleven. They also got out in hammersmith and began to leg it up the stairs. Joy! low slung jeans couldn't cope, revealing a rather tatty pair of Marks and sparks finest. REALLY hope he heard me laughing at him!

smirky things today

Hmmm, what's perked me up today? Well, sending a CV off to Rada - just for a laugh: will of course keep trying my damndest to sort out the move to Conti's, but an interview might be interesting. thankfully the job description is within my experience. slightly eek-ed to see that students are expected to transcribe by the end of term one, but the Arts lot have been doing okay after only eight hours (well, less of course, as the classes get trimmed due to none of the clocks matching), and some of them had a good go at reading quite complex stuff on the board - first line of 'disteapte-te romene' for example.
Just written a carefully worded reply to Vasta - chap asking for Rp pronunciation of transubstantiation'. You can't use IPA on vasta, so was trying to pick words where the sound is the same both sides of the Pond, and forgot the one for 'ee' (it's 'fleece', btw). basically, what the chap wanted to know was is it pronounced 'traens' or 'trahns'. I said 'traens' (like i've always heard it, and like it says in the dictionary(s). than some chap says 'sorry guys' (love that!) 'some people in the north might say traens, but it is properly said 'trahns''. Had to reply, dropping in all my RP credentials (being east midlands, english, etc), and that the only people I've heard say 'trahns' are jump-ups like my aunt and uncle - where a miner's daughter from a tiny village in fife comes up with 'trahns' (and no it's not a legacy of scots) lord only knows. So that made me smirk, as I know that will have opened a whole can o' worms.
John seems to be enjoying himself in Chooksbri - hopefully this will give him a taste for work, and not for watching DVD's all day. getting a computer will hopefully fire him up when he gets back.
Oh, and the ansaphone message from his mum got me giggling in the street - I see where Gemma gets her, shall we say 'elongated speech structures' from.
Trinity's in Chiswick (highly recommended, if anyone around west london reads this) have started doing some new cakes - the cookies and white choc brownies are VG!
Had an evening free tonight, which is fab - got home at kid's TV time!!!!!! didnt watch any though - had a couple of episodes of scrubs, finished off yesterdays pasta (that's 'paesta' rather than pahsta - I am not my aunt/ant), and the rest of the maltesers. am going to close this and get a cuppa tea and watch 'Buzzcocks'. then an early night.
another nice thing today - the cherry trees on Chiswick Village Green have at last turned colour - that weird almost glowing colour. took a photo on my phone on my way home in the dark - will take my camera out tomorrow - see if there's any nice shots in daylight!

And got new hotwaterbottle yesterday too - cream furry from Boots. Niiiice!