Saturday 28 February 2009

• A glass of wine with lunch. A consequence of being essay free for a month or so.
• A good gig.
• Having the time to hoover.
• Good underwear - scarlet, worn under black and white.
• Walking home from Camden unplugged, listening to the sound of North London on a Saturday night.

Friday 27 February 2009

• A mid-day walk through town in glorious sunshine so warm that I had to take off my jacket.
• A Pickard pitstop.
• Sitting on the doorstep barefooted flicking through Time Out.
• A late night decision to hop on the bus and play in town.
• A deadline met.

Thursday 26 February 2009

• Seagulls wheeling and swooping, attacking a lone misguided pigeon over Caledonian Road.
• An impasse at the lift, and the following bemused laughter.
• Pure evil.
• Satay sauce.
• Missed Connections in the London Paper.

Wednesday 25 February 2009

• The crunch of the remnants of a car window, sparkling under orange street light.
• The fact that Elderflower Youth tastes just like being six in the Hague.
• The following conversation between two suited and booted Westminster men regarding the second man's sandwich choice - "So what about crayfish - isn't that an animal? That's not vegetarian." / "No, it's a fish, it's fine." No, Mr. Man - crayfish is not in fact a fish - you muppet. (And, even if it were a little more piscine, it still wouldn't be that vegetarian, would it?) The first man didn't question the second's authority though. Astounding.
• A phone call that left me smiling all the way home.
• The ticking noise that the heating makes just as it kicks in - the only noise in an otherwise silent flat.

Tuesday 24 February 2009

• An impromptu pizza lunch with the boys, with conversation flavoured with restructures, birthdays, a history of beauty - y'know, the simple things.
• The best coat I've seen all week - a pink Big Bird pelt, worn over a glittery frock (waiting for a bus at 3pm on a Tuesday).
• David's playlist on my Ipod - still good, despite the fact he's a grumpy shitbag.
• Being dressed like a mime artist all day. Apparently, my skills need brushing up though.
• Skinny wrists.

Monday 23 February 2009

• The thought of a big leather bed called Romeo. Just makes me laugh and laugh and laugh.
• A choir of ex-girl friends.
• Ill-advised strawberry laces.
• The moment at which I decided that no - no matter how elegant and innocuous the yoga trousers seemed, I was not going to nip to the corner shop in a tracksuit bottom equivalent. I may have been sitting on my bed, chained to my computer, for TWO DAYS, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I'll leave the house in leisure wear.
• The summer smell of fake tan.

Sunday 22 February 2009

• Analysis of last night's fun and games over a cooked breakfast and the papers, basking in the sunshine. I love being back from the cafe by 11am - it's a good start to the day.
• Last week's Guardian Guide. Brilliant. Restores my faith in the Saturday papers a wee bit.
• Pitta-bread stock replenished.
• The frustratingly delayed, but satisfying when it finally arrives, post-10pm work ethic. Why is it that I just can't focus during daylight?
• Orangina. The taste of summers in Moureze.

Saturday 21 February 2009

• Spring in the flat - bright and warm air streaming through opened windows. Such a pity I'm chained to my computer today - I want to frolic.
• An evening of mischief with a fun but infrequent partner in crime.
• Incomprehensible conversation turned coherent - in fact, coherence brought the funny.
• The Believer / Paul Auster / Jonathan Lethem. What's not to love?
• Being told I'm smart.

Friday 20 February 2009

• The weight of a necklace with glass, metal and stone sitting around my neck. Made more enjoyable by the fact it was a present from a sister who clearly understands my style.
• A bizarrely chosen salad for lunch. Hit the spot, though.
• Things you should know podcasts. Informative and funny.
• That feeling of dragging a snippet of information up from the deepest darkest recesses of my mind, like an archaic filing system with winches and cogs.
• Dozing companionably on the sofa.

Thursday 19 February 2009

• Tracing an ever-changing map of other people's trespasses.
• Moss terrariums. Want. want muchly.
• Azure lidded sleep. (Freakily, when I googled the poem, having seen just a stanza elsewhere, I discovered that it's about Madeline. Makes me like it more.)
• Hours of fun talking to all manner of people in Hideout. Why is it never just one drink though?
• Being gently mocked for ordering a lettuce sandwich.

Wednesday 18 February 2009

• The alternative world that is Holloway Road - an alternative world populated by many misspelled signs. My favourite example today? 'New black beaty massage' (sounds painful).
• Making the most of the Southbank without really thinking about it: a piano concert, a jazz night, a glass of wine at the BFI, and a then potter across the bridge to St Martin's Lane. Perfect, really.
• Good shoes.
• Waking up to a drunken body pouring into bed.
• Radio 4 comedy on my ipod. Laugh out loud funny (which tends to provoke odd looks on the bus).

Tuesday 17 February 2009

• A 45 minute walked journey to work from home - superspeedy. Particularly enjoyable as I left the house later than intended, and was still in the office by 8.15. Hoorah! (And, also? Yuck.)
• Porridge, made with good oats and salt.
• The way my room is flooded with the scent of fully blooming hyacinths. It's also the smell of a year ago, which is notable in itself.
• A silent conversation across the room.
• A new make-up technique, I think. (Turns out, a foundation brush is a good thing.)

Monday 16 February 2009

• Spring in the air - and the first snowdrops of the year. A light at the end of the tunnel.
• Outlook's spellcheck suggestion for virement: varmint. Perfect.
• A walk around one of London's smallest blocks, but one of the prettiest. Five minutes of fresh air after a long Pret-scented meeting.
• Iron pavement lights with great details - logos and fonts. St Pancras Ironworks.
• Ti-faux. It's like magic.

Sunday 15 February 2009

• A rare encounter with a couple of one-time sidekicks, and their sweet eagerness to be mentioned here.
• A genuinely stunned 'wow'. It's not often that Alex is silenced.
• A brown sauce mishap handled with aplomb and good grace.
• Nick finally using a larger rucksack (but, actually filling it only with Bonfire of the Vanities).
• The restorative qualities of a couple of hash browns and a sausage, paid for with change from my pockets, and accompanied by talk of novelists, circumcision, and sniper instructors.

Saturday 14 February 2009

• Tom Waits' Blue Valentine.
• Accidental drunkenness.
• An effective working environment (fuelled by caffeine and fried potatoes) - and a really useful book, bought a lifetime ago but appropriate now.
• A birdcage on a chain. What's not to like?
• I hate to even begin to admit this, but (and I quote from the label) 'dairy free cheese sauce powder'. So wrong, so not cheese sauce, but quite a good thing if not considered on its own terms.

Friday 13 February 2009

• A smile on a stick. Hee!
• The clap of a pigeon's wings. (Actually - the fact that I typed 'the clap of a penguin's wings' has given me more amused pleasure than the original sound. You don't get many penguins in Russell Square.)
• A 35p doughnut. 35p of sugar and fat-laden happiness.
• A girl wearing an emerald green satin skirt with a black and white striped tshirt.
• My hyacinth bloomed today. Even I don't seem able to kill a potted bulb.

Thursday 12 February 2009

• A short and sunny stroll to work, ham, cheese and tomato croissant in hand.
• Bruises in curious places.
• Describing the installation of the London Eye as we walked underneath.
• A ladder, caused by an overexuberant hoist, stopped in its tracks with an well timed daub of nailvarnish. I knew there's a reason I always have red fingernails.
• The smooth stone on my necklace warmed through by my skin.

Wednesday 11 February 2009

• Baked rice pudding and roasted plums.
• Channelling a calm and in-charge grown-up persona to help a friend.
• Dirty flirty banter.
• A slight ache from walking too far, too fast on Tuesday.
• An unexpected but satisfying encounter.

Tuesday 10 February 2009

• Bright clear sunshine as I crossed town in the middle of the day
• A career-related success (relatedly: knowing what I'm talking about - always a good thing)
• Fairylights in a birdcage. Twee but pretty.
• Fixing a believed-deceased Ipod. Hoorah.
• A functioning radio alarm. The dulcet tones of Radio 4 is a very civilised way to begin the day, and was the sound of Arundel in the mornings for many years. A nicely apt date to begin using that particular radio.

Monday 9 February 2009

• The drunken lady on the bus who, in amongst bellowing out showtunes, berated the other travellers for being so glum. 'What's the matter with you all?' she asked. 'It's Saturday night!' It's not Saturday night. Not at all.
• Red wellies keeping my feet dry - a key strategic decision in my day.
• A new notebook.
• Knowing that I'm going to do half an hour more work and then curl up in bed.
• Really, really puerile humour.

Sunday 8 February 2009

• A fat wee bird in the tree outside my window
• Half an hour pottering around the food court of Fortnum and Mason
• Dutch accents (and style - only a Dutchman could wear a tangerine waterproof jacket with interesting specs, and pull it off with panache)
• Peanut butter melting into hot toast, washed down with a mug of mint tea.
• The moment I took off my soggy boots and wearily pulled on pyjama bottoms, so that I could sink into the sofa in a warm and quiet flat.

Saturday 7 February 2009

• The colours of the sun setting through London.
• 7 Doigts de la Main flying through the air with the greatest of ease.
• Fleeting snapshots into the lives of others, spied through the windows high up on Gilbert Place.
• An over-shoulder glance held just for a moment longer than expected.
• Popcorn - sweet and salty, layered.

Friday 6 February 2009

• I know I say this a lot, but crossing the Millennium Bridge never ever fails to make my soul soar. Doesn't matter what time of day, what weather, what mood - it's always wonderful.
• An astute surmisation of one of my many behavioural tics.
• Serendipitous timing of a Leonard Cohen song.
• Sleeping until everyone else had left the flat.
• An overpriced but very lovely drink in Skylon - dirty martini, very dry. (The experience was made sweeter by the fact that the shitty service was not rewarded).

Thursday 5 February 2009

• A companionable walk home through town.
• A smile and a wave across the bar from somebody I knew once upon a time.
• A square of dark chocolate.
• Cashmere against my skin.
• A new Time Out.

Wednesday 4 February 2009

• A very dapper and grown up gentleman, licking the foam from his cappucino like a small boy with an icecream - and then looking slightly abashed when he caught my eye. I giggled out loud - to his reluctant delight.
• Relinquishing myself to a warm and sleepy body in my bed despite being showered and almost ready to face the day.
• Being able to pop to Altermodern at lunchtime.
• Ribena. Seriously - I don't even recognise myself anymore.
• A conversation with a near-stranger that wandered from Delillo to Fugazi to whisky to The Mousetrap, via Caravaggio and Bacon. The word pretentious was also used a lot.

Tuesday 3 February 2009

• Learning the same lessons, again and again: 1. Ostriching is not the answer - it's never that bad. 2. Actually, if I want something doing, it's only going to get done if I do it myself. 3. Research really is worth it.
• Hallelujah at the Players - from memory and with a Belfast accent.
• Yes, I know I look like Paddington Bear. Show me a marmalade sandwich, and I might just begin to care.
• A satisfyingly bouncy office chair.
• Many boxes of my favourite pen deposited on my desk.

Monday 2 February 2009

• Baking banana bread, just because.
• A stomp in the snow.
• A well timed missive - the answer to which saved me a long slippery slog into the office.
• Barley and carrot fritters.
• Music from above - one song in particular with intermittent yells of 'and EIGHT'. Hee!

Sunday 1 February 2009

• A large coffee, hash browns, the papers, sunshine - a spontaneous decision.
• Inches of silent snow in De Beauvoir Town,
• A quail, pottering around the bar (leaving behind the recently laid egg in its cage). Amazing!
• A hood on my green duffel coat.
• Pool!\(I'm still spectacularly bad)