Girlie evening in...

Mes amies! What a perfect Saturday after the Last Work Day of the Year. Me, the big tv, Strictly Come Dancing Final, some tortilla chips, some wine, and for the interim we have The Wedding Planner, and there might be a little light present wrapping, soon. Not only that, but there's been banter via text with C-Wo, and a little light drinking. Hmmm, I mentioned the wine already?

Top text, from C-Wo, preserved for memory:
Charlie: is that a sitcom?
Gem: well, it's more of a situational comedy really...

Christmas presents have been purchased. And some have even been driven round to the old house; I had a chat with Isa and Sarah. Sarah was looking really quite old. She's the same age as the Hot Boss, and you have to bear in mind that HB has two babies already, it really puts her age into perspective. We swapped business cards (hers have her new name on). I even spent a tiny amount of time walking round Cowley Centre (my favourite centre) and didn't spend any money, but after yesterday's Christmas Gift Spree, to be honest, it required little will power.

What did require A LOT of will power was I had to RETURN TO THE HAIRDRESSERS after my cut, for alterations. For some reason, me and the woman who cut my hair today, did not click. And I didn't make it clear enough what I wanted. So I had to return, after a briefing from Charlie, and instruct about the horrible bits around my hairline. Blegh, I hate conflict, and the woman was so nice about it, and said it was good I came back. To be fair, it's a nice haircut, but not quite everything I had hoped. But I guess haircuts can't work miracles.

I should be working on the book, but I'm still getting into relaxed holiday mode. Tomorrow I probably won't have time, either, but Christmas Eve, me, the laptop, we're getting reacquainted. I'm going to work hard this holiday, in a fun way, of course. What is actually bound to happen is that I get NOTHING done. Typical.

And finally, last night I read the latest Princess Diaries. Actually really very good, Mia's maturing, I'm impressed with La Cabot. Today I'm re-reading Going Home. Well, it is a Christmas Book. And I got some LOVELY new books from Andy for Christmas. He's a star.

Reading

Mes amies, when I started this here blog, I put links to my 'favourite film' and 'favourite book' of 2006 in the sidebar. And it's getting to mid-late-December, and I'm thinking, what have been my cultural highlights of 2007?

I'm still mulling it over. I mean, would it be wrong to admit that probably (along with the rest of the world) my most eagerly devoured book was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows? (In fact, I'm considering going to bed with a HP tonight, I find them very Christmassey, probably to do with the fact I saw HPatPS three times in my second year at uni). But what about Harriet Evans? I think her Hopeless Romantic is actually out of the running, as I recall buying it in hardback over Christmas last year (which is a bit of a relief). I'm ashamed to admit I never finished Atonement (sorry, folks, life's too short, when you know the ending). But I'm not ashamed to admit I stayed up all night in a sweaty reading frenzy for Sarah Dessen's Just Listen, a fantastic young adult novel, which features a tall, dark, handsome, hulking brooding music freak love interest. Hmmm, that should be at the top of my Christmas list. So I'm thinking it over. Thank goodness for Library Thing.

I also still have SHELVES of unread books. And shelves of tat. And not a single copy of Wuthering Heights. I don't know where mine has gone, but I suspect it went the same way my multiple (four!) copies of Jane Eyre went. I also don't have Rebecca anymore. Hmmm.

And now for something completely different

I was listening to "Baby it's cold outside" from the Elf movie (love that film), but it changed to Beyonce, Crazy in Love, which would be were it not for the fact I have another tiny tiny hangover (mainly tiredness) and I'm crying out for soothing fingers on my temples, a cup of proper coffee and maybe a fry up. I'm considering throwing on some clothes and schlepping down to G&Ds.

Last night, Anna took me to a party. It was fun! I spent a lot of time talking about SOAS and Harringay Green Lanes with a guy dressed as a Victorian scary man. I wore my shift dress and eyeliner flicks and inside the eye lines, and was "sixties", Anna wore one of my white curtains and voila, a toga! (Actually, more just a drapery, but you know...) At first I felt a bit awkward, but then I loosened up, but despite having two soft drinks and only sipping wine, I have a hangover. And I was woken up by two texts from Dad and Barbara. And I had to chase Mervyn to speak to Dad.

My Nanna isn't doing great at the moment, and everyone's a bit worried; Mervyn sounded quite cross on the phone when I rang him this morning. However, I suspect that's because he's like me, and he doesn't like being chased, or doubted. Well, tough, I won't have it on my conscience that I did nothing when my grandmother is old and vulnerable, and my uncle lives a long way away. Because for all Mervyn seems to say "yes, I'm dealing with it," he needs to know how we all feel. Anyway, poor Nanna, it's not much fun chatting on the phone with her at the moment, she sounds pretty miserable, and while it's not as bad as it was three years ago when she had to go into hospital, and we all know the signs now, it's still not fab. Not fab at all.

Took myself to the cinema last night to see "Enchanted", which was quite fun. I was trying to get in the Christmas spirit, and it didn't really work, though. Oh well, I downloaded some of the soundtrack. It was weird to recognise the girl off Wicked, without her green make up.

I have been remembering the Angel episode "I Will Remember You" - unfortunately, not available for illegal download (booo!) but available on YouTube. I'm saving it, I really want to watch it, but I don't want to be disappointed. Memories, you see, make things better than the real thing. At least that's what I'm thinking. And I don't want to crack out the "Love Actually" til I'm wrapping my presents!

Can't believe only five days to go until break up for Chrimble!! Hurrah!!!! But so much work to do - meh. Ought to get on with some this afternoon.

Rockin' Friday

Tonight it's been: chicken and couscous, dry white wine, Friday night TV, New Scientist magazine and The Times (for ah am truly an intellectoool), and laptop surfing. My wrists are starting to hurt. I know how to have fun, I'm all about the hot water bottle, the good book and the cup of tea, soon.

The Hot Boss annoyed me this week; I like him, too much clearly, because I got quite irritated and I realise it's because I have no interaction with him. Not really. Today, Old Boss called me up, and we hooted with laughter down the phone, like we used to, and I really really really missed her. Really badly. And then I felt like a tool. Also, work is sorta kinda getting me down. I don't want to moan about it. But I am, so here goes... I am worried I am no good at my new job. I am worried that my Hot Boss hates me. I am worried that my Hot Boss thinks I'm crap. I am worried that the New Assistant also hates me. I am worried in case I make the New Assistant crap, because I'm responsible. I'm just WORRIED.

I think I've just got post-party post-lunch PARANOIA. Lots of hangover, lots of it! The party was SO GOOD - selected photographic evidence shall follow soon. And the lunch was delicious. And in fact, it was all great. I guess, I've been peaking too early. It's the run up to Christmas, but the things I've been looking forward to are over. And I haven't even done any Christmas shopping. And in the pics I'm all sweaty and fat, and big nosed. But they're still kind of fun.

You know, I think tomorrow is a weekend and I should set out to enjoy it. And Monday is a fresh week. And it's the last week before Christmas, I mean, it's not so bad, is it?

Names from my past

I've been thinking about this a little bit, after I kept on calling a friend by a nickname she doesn't like. This is deeply self centred and boring, but just for the record:

People may call me:

Gem

Gems (my preferences, actually)

Names I will answer to that people have called me for no apparent reason:

Mia

Gemmie

GeMoya-D (the Australian contingent)

Gemma-Jim-Jam-Jamies

Gemma-Poosan-Woosan

Names I will answer to but that I really hate:

Gem-Gem

Gem-Gems

Names I don't like:

Dunny

Dunn-a-lung

Gemma-Dunn-a-Poo (a very embarassing incident aged about five)

an early night

In bed before midnight, not drunk. Miracle!!

It's been a long and lovely week. My last night off was Monday, after a weekend of stewing in my own juices. Tuesday, Amber came round, we drank wine. Wednesday, Amanda and Charlie came round, we drank more wine. Thursday, I went to the pub with the Writing Group, and drank wine, Friday, I went to the pub with Amanda, Ben, Ursula and John (random grouping, but wonderful) and drank more wine. Saturday, we did festive house decorating, and drank wine and then went to The Turf, and had more wine, and Sunday, today, I got up, went to London, went to Mervyn's and had... you guessed it, WINE.

I'm one of those middle class people who gets liver disease from all the wine they drink, clearly.

Soooo, news: nommuch. I felt like there was tons to tell, but realistically, there's not. I've not been writing, I've not been Christmas shopping, I've not been doing anything useful, just mooching and drinking. Oh well, I'm young, that's Chrimble for you... basically now I'm just skating along until 20th December. Ooooooh, not long now.

The online dating has expanded, because Amber signed me up for Match.com. I'm not impressed thus far with the calibre of men I'm attracting. Maybe this is my problem, maybe I'm totally unrealistic - after all, clearly I'm never going to get to go out with my very own George Clooney. But it would be nice to think that maybe someone good looking would be interested in me. However, this isn't a pity party, even thinking about online dating has been a massive step in right direction. And Barbara approves, which is good.

And finally, I really need an early night, my sleep patterns have been up the spout. So this is it, for now.

[An entire post without mentioning the Hot Boss! Doh!]

activity

The run up to Christmas: drinking, working, drinking, working, drinking, gossiping, going out, drinking, working, gossiping, going out, drinking, working, not eating that much because suddenly I don't feel like it, drinking, talking about work, more gossiping, more drinking... erm, you get the picture?

Can't be bothered to write much more. Need to take off make up. Brush teeth. Work out where strange smell in my bedroom is coming from. All exhausting thoughts.

blog into life

In the car on the way home, I said to Charlie "if I get a boyfriend, I'll never be able to take my bra off, it'd be just so disappointing for him." C-Wo replied, "Well, you'll just have to have bra-on sex, like in Sex and the City." I said "Didn't I blog about that?"

And the answer is yes. On a very small scale, I now know how J.K. Rowling probably feels when people talk about Harry Potter. On a very, very small scale.

I'm attempting to do a plot outline for the current WIP. It's not too painful, and it's certainly more pleasant than what I was doing earlier: googling courses on Bioethics. Yes, that's right, blog fans, I brought work home and I actually did it. Work's got me going so crazy right now (Beyonce paraphrase...)

Anyway, I am LOVING Google Notebook for my outlines and character notes and whatnot! It's so much fun! And it looks so pretty!!

procrastination

Mes amies, procrastination is a truly evil thing. Evil evil evil. At about 8pm I came upstairs to do some work. Since then I have read the Daily Mail showbiz pages, admired Katie Holmes' new 'Suri' hairstyle, mooched on Facebook, created a new iTunes Writing playlist, read over old blog entries, and tried to write an email to Andy that was aborted due to the slowness of typing online in internet explorer. I have also spoken to D&B, about next year and holidays, missed Anna going out, and just readjusted my writing space, as I can feel the RSI. RSI RSI RSI, how do I hate thee, let me count the ways: strained tendons and sore forearms, fingers that burn and elbows that twinge...

Hanging with C-Wo on Friday was fun. We went to Pieminister for lunch in the fabulous covered market, which made me feel all Christmassy, both the pie and mash and the florists and delicatessens and Christmassy things. I bought my Christmas party dress, I bought new bras, bought new Philosophy books I shall probably never read, and no Christmas presents. It was a very tiring day, but very nice, as C-Wo and I both crossed items off our To-Do lists; mine on a bit of paper torn out of my writing notebook, Charlie's on the back of an envelope. I thought that befitted our personalities, as Charlie's always at the post office.

Boobs! My new bras hoick my boobs up to my chin; can't wait to wear them to work! Of course now I'm allegedly a ridiculous bra size that I wish I truly were, why don't they just do away with bra measurements at all? When I finally do get a boyfriend, I'm going to have to have bra-on sex, like those women in sex and the city, or even like Katherine Heigl in Knocked Up, because the difference between the encased beauty of my chest and the reality of two flaps somewhere around the sides of ribs is so disparate a man might die of disappointment if he were to discover the reality.

I'm procrastinating from doing any writing. And it's nearly bedtime. But really there are three hours til my true bedtime. It's a Saturday night, I shouldn't be home alone, drinking tea, mooching online. I feel lonely.