Flat viewing and a welcome long lost greeting to a way of life I had really started to miss.

Big big weekend this weekend. Looked at six houses with new flatmate Anna (nickname to be confirmed. Still haven't decided yet). 

Also to come with us was Anna's boyfriend Karl. He has proven himself very useful to have around. I am very grateful to Anna who had the sense six months ago to start dating that one. Because she was so forward thinking we had a lift to each and every one of the flats and we didn't have to walk to one once. Karl and his car were very appreciated. 

We liked two out of the six we were looking at. This fact was pretty redundant as each and every one of the estate agents who showed us around said that we were a little early in our looking for flats. I don't know what they're talking about. I find almost two months early perfectly fine. 

One down point to the day however was that neither of us got to play 'Daddy's little rich girl' which is soooo my favourite game to play when flat hunting. 

The game is us finding a flat that is so unbelievably out of our price range (or anyone without their own yacht's price range if I'm more accurate) and ask for a showing in amongst our more serious views. 

This game is then heightened by putting on our most poshest of voices and view the flat whilst having conversations like:

Me: What do you think Annabel? Do you find the rooms spacious enough?
Anna: Well the second master bedroom seemed a little pokey for my liking but I know daddy would absolutely love the balcony. 
Me: Oh darling, I know what you mean! And have you seen the dining room? Think of the dinner parties!
Anna: I have already considered that! It would be smashing wouldn't it? The one thing I worry about is the rent. 
Me: Yes my dear, I know what you mean, it is a little out of our price range isn't it?
Anna: I worry daddy won't approve. 
Me: Mine too... Well we will just have to tell them straight. This is the most expensive that they do on a renting basis. And after all we really could benefit from slumming it for a while, think of what we could learn?
Anna: You are right Lisa, it would really give us a chance to get in touch with the less fortunate people of our age. 

And so on and so forth. It is awesome game. However the flat I did try to get a viewing for on the day had an unavailable land lord so we will have to wait to play that game another time. Damn. 

In other news: almost in response to my last post where I shared my surprise on the kindness offered to me from Claire-The-Bully, she invited me to the bullies lair with Rachael-The-Bully and offered to pay for curry! 

I accepted though part of me worried that there was a hidden agenda where they were going to fatten me and then roast me alive or something. However when I got there I felt a lot more at home with the whole situation. 

To fully explain this next conversation I should probably explain that there was a very large chance I took double the amount of happy pills I should have taken on Sat because I  couldn't remember if I had already taken one for the day and I'm on such a high dose that if I miss one I feel pretty crappy about it, so I though "better safe than sorry."

However when I reached the Bullies lair it became a little apparent that I may have OD'ed as I was more than a little talkative, leading to the following conversation. 

Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully have been shortened to CTB and RTB. 

(Whilst watching X Factor)

Me: I really like her, I think she'll go far. 
CTB: So you said about a minute ago. 
Me: (Sniffs and grumbles incoherently to CTB) Well I think she's awesome. 

Pause

Me: (Starts singing the song that had just been sung) 
CTB: What is wrong with you tonight Lisa? You have not shut up since you got here. I'd understand if you had been home all day but you've been out in company! Aren't you tired yet?
Me: ... There's a small chance I may have OD'ed on happy pills today. 
RTB: I'm going to say that that is a really big chance. 
Me: Damn... Sorry, this might not be pleasant for either of you then. 
CTB: You think?

Pause as Gary Barlow comes on the screen

Me: You know what Take That song I really like of his and have been listening to again and again recently? (When I hear no response I take that to mean "Go on Lisa, we'd really like to know" and so continue) Rule the world. 

Pause. No reaction is given from either Bullies. 

Me: I think I'm going to have that as my first dance at my wedding. 
RTB: Really? You sure you don't want "Rabbit Rabbit" from Chaz and Dave?

CTB falls into fits of laughter behind me and I nod my head, oddly at peace with the conversation. 

Me: And suddenly it feels right again. You buy me food on the condition that I eat it whilst listening to you insult me. This feels a lot more balanced now, I no longer feel uncomfortable about the change in situation or worry about having to respond to a compliment from you. Thanks. 
CTB: Don't mention it mate. 
RTB: Glad to help. 

And I am genuinely glad it's gone back to normal. I was slightly freaked out for a while that they had changed completely. But gladly they haven't and I can go back to the snide comments and gorgeous insults that make our friendship work so well. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

Sssh!! Don't move! You'll spook her.

Claire-The-Bully is being uncharacteristically nice to me at the moment. I don't want to complain about it because it's not necessarily a bad thing, but still... It unnerves me. I can't help but feel incredibly suspicious. 

It's not even a case of easing up on the insults when we're together, that in itself is weird when she does it. Or even complimenting me on a night out, which does usually leave me with icy chills, thinking about what the connotations could be of such an act. No, today she has gone out of her way to be nice to me... twice!!

My impulse reaction to this has been "what does she want?" or "how badly has she hit her head?" I've even considered that she's currently going through her own form of Groundhog day and I have been betting against myself on how many times she's experienced this day this time round. At the moment I'm leaning toward somewhere between her 50th and 60th turn. 

Regardless of the reason, she has been highly attentive and supportive of this blog today. She has advertised it on her facebook and her twitter (her twitter account does only have five followers but still, it's the thought that counts). There has even been one point where her friend commented and said he found the stuff a bit 'out there' (which is totally valid as he was talking about my no neck/no sense of humour post earlier in the week which even I considered as a little bizarre) and Claire-The-Bully totally stood up for me! Not even I would have done that for that post!

I am highly grateful for the complimenting and over all 'Lisa love' I have been experiencing from her corner but at the same time I've been kind of frozen in reaction to it. To me, her kindness is like catching sight of an animal in the wild, I'm afraid if I make any sudden movements or sounds I'll spook it away... But then if I don't respond I fear I may bore it and it will go away anyway... Tis a tricky one. 

So I have decided that instead I will just talk about it candidly on here, fully aware that she'll probably respond with some kind of snide or witty remark as she returns to her normal self. Meanwhile I will secretly hold on to the small proof I have that somewhere, deep deep inside that tough and sarcastic exterior there is a woman who puts up with me - nay - even likes me. 

By the way, I haven't spoken about the Bullies in a while so if that whole post baffled you and you would like to know what makes Claire such a bully click here.

Peace out my lovelies and have an awesome weekend. 

I don't hate you... Unless you're Nicholas Cage or an earwig, then I do hate you. In a very irrational but understandable way.

In case you hadn't caught on by now, I'm crashing at Rachael-The-Bully's house this week.  As such I have not been as active internet wise as I normally am. 

Rachael-The-Bully has internet but the thing is like Fort Knox. It is completely impossible to access it. She has a password but within a couple of months of creating it she had forgotten it. This means no one can use it, not even her as due to some fault she was chucked off and couldn't remember the password to put her back on again. 

Instead she has resorted to plugging herself into the router. We've all tried contacting Virgin Media to change the password but they are determined that we do not qualify for the changing of passwords... not even Rachael-The-Bully... who's house it is... and who owns the internet (obviously not the whole internet but all the internet in her premises at least).

The rest of us are left waving our iPhones and Blackberrys around our heads, desperately trying to snatch some form of 3G signal so we can at least check our Facebook. 

I felt like I should mention this to you in case you're used to see me leaving you messages via twitter or your blogs and have started to notice that I haven't been lately. This is not because I have suddenly decided I hate you and don't want to commune with you any more. I'm just simply internetually challenged. 

At the moment I am writing my posts on the journey home from work, going to my internet surging household for a mere half hour to upload it and grab an overnight bag then coasting down to The-Bullies-Lair. 

This has proven healthy for me in the sense that I'm not checking my blog statistics page every second because the internet won't let me. But it is bad because over the past four months or so I have built a whole social life that is dependent on that thing. 

But on the plus side I get to sleep in my old bed (I used to live with Rachael-The-Bully) and wake up and pretend I'm three years younger as I relive the whole experience. 

Also as much as I love living on my own, sometimes it's nice to have someone to rip into and be sarcastic with of an evening. 

Tonight though it is my last night of crashing at Rachael-The-Bully's as One-And-Only-Daniela is back with me tomorrow! I don't know about anyone else but I am highly looking forward to hearing what new and exciting things she has to say this time. We may even get a little further with our new religion 'Rumligion.'

Peace out my lovelies. 

It's a small price to pay for free stuff.

I walked into Rachael-The-Bully's house last night and plonked down my two bags. One with food in, the other was the bag I've had since I was 21. To say it has seen better days would be an understatement. 



Out of everyone's feelings it could possibly hurt however, Rachael-The-Bully seems to be the most effected. Last night was no exception. She took one look at it and snarled. She said nothing however. 

About half an hour into the evening as I was sitting down with my healthy bowl of super noodles Rachael-The-Bully started to tell me about her day. 

"I was on the train today and a girl walked on carrying a bag just as old and tacky as yours," she began. "Do you know what I thought when I saw her?"

"Was it 'wow she must really love that bag' by any chance?"

"Not quite," she said. "More like, 'wow, she just looks so... dirty.'"

"Ah, there's nothing like a good bit of judgemental commenting on the train."

"Surely you must realise that going on the train with that bag would get you the same comments?"

"I'm pretty sure no one's quite as offended by the bag as you are... Well, with the exception of maybe Claire."

Rachael-The-Bully sighed and let it go for about an hour before she clocked eyes on it again. 

"Oh for crying out loud," she said. "I will give you a bag if you promise to stop using that one."

I looked up from my puzzle book that I had started and gazed at her curiously. 

"Really?"

Rachael-The-Bully simply sighed and got up, mumbling to herself. I heard her rooting around in her bedroom for about ten minutes before she finally emerged with my cool new bag. One that she had bought but had not yet used.



I gaped at her for about five seconds before I finally found my words. 

"So you're telling me that you're that annoyed by my laziness of buying a new bag that you want to give me one of yours?"

Rachael-The-Bully thrust it into my arms. "At least people won't think you're homeless now."

"Cheers Rach!"

And this, people, is one of the reasons why, even though I call Claire and Rachael bullies, I still think they're freaking awesome. Rachael-The-Bully's insults end in free goodies and Claire-The-Bully is letting me crash in her bed while she's away for a week. 

I'm planning on bringing some of my most tacky trousers and tops tonight and see what I get as a result of her annoyance from them. There are a couple of tops she has that I've had my eye on for a while now...

Peace out my lovelies. 

A little guide to the tv world in London, England.

The film Swordfish was advertised to be on tv last night. It was in the tv guide magazine and on the guide on the tv as well (by this I mean the electronic guide not another magazine that I've Sellotaped to the screen).

The film was due to be on one of the lesser upmarket tv channels out of the bog standard channels. You have BBC1 and ITV1 at the top which are the rival big channels with a plethora of Saturday night entertainment. Next there's BBC2 for the documentaries and cult comic panel shows. Then there's channel 4 which basically has all the good 'Friday night' entertainment type channels. A good one for comedy and Countdown. 

And finally there is a little channel they tagged on a good 15 years ago called Channel 5. This channel either plays mediocre and slightly suspect trashy tv shows or it feeds on the remains of the first four channels' cast offs. The latest one of these being Big Brother now that channel 4 has grown bored of it. 

Anyway, channel 5 was claiming to put on Swordfish. Sometimes, despite their tragic tv taste, they can get it right movie wise. 

I was round Rachael-The-Bully's house.



We read the synopsis of the movie. I personally was very excited over the prospect of seeing a Hugh Jackman/John Travolta classic thriller. I had not yet seen it and do love an excuse to educate myself movie wise. 

After five minutes of seeing Jessica Alba and Paul Walker jump off boats however I remember being a little perplexed. I was pretty sure I had seen this movie but I was certain that I had not seen Swordfish. 

A few minutes later two new characters came on the screen. A guy and a really skinny blonde girl. My perplexion deepened as I turned to Rachael-The-Bully. 

"This is so weird. I was so certain that I hadn't seen Swordfish but I know that girl is going to be chomped up by sharks."

Rachael-The-Bully groaned. "Aw, can we not watch it then? I'm pretty sure I'll be too scared."

"I'm sure it's fine." I said. "I'm certain I haven't seen Swordfish before."

"Yeah well, Claire made me watch Sixth Sense last week and I had to go to bed at the same time as her because I was too scared. I don't want to do the same thing with you."

"I must be making it up. She'll be fine."

An unbelievable twenty minutes later and these four actors still hadn't left the water. This was (I'm ashamed to say) the point where I began to get suspicious. 

"Um Rach." I said. 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm beginning to have my doubts about whether this film is actually Swordfish. Also, I definitely have seen this before."

"But they're in the water," Rachael-The-Bully argued. "I'm sure they're about to meet the Swordfish really soon."

I watched as Jessica Alba straddled Paul Walker in a fit of passion and suddenly felt confident with my decision. 

I picked up the magazine tv guide and glanced over at the synopsis for Swordfish again. "Okay, I'm pretty sure this is not a film about 'a secretive renagade counter-terrorist co-opting the world greatest hacker. There's far too much water to be anywhere near electrics. Besides I haven't seen either Hugh Jackman or John Travolta once yet. You'd have thought they'd at least have made an appearance by now."

I got out my trusty IMDB app, made a few searches and smiled as the title of the film showed itself. 

"Into the Blue!" I exclaimed. "I have seen this film before." Memories flooded back. "Oooh, it's not that good."

Rachael-The-Bully searched the electronic tv guide and it still said Swordfish. 

"But this tv guide is never wrong! I mean it's electronic."

I gasped as the mistake suddenly was made clear. 

"Rach, we're watching Channel 5. You know how bad they are. You don't suppose they put this film on because it has Swordfish in it and they thought that that meant it was the right movie?"

"I thought that."

"Well at least we know if everything else falls down we have a mediocre career in crappy television that we'd be perfect for."

I don't think I have ever cacked myself as much as I did last night.

I spent the evening introducing Rachael-And-Claire-The-Bullies to One-And-Only-Daniela last night.

When One-And-Only-Daniela and myself got back from our night out I couldn't find my mobile phone so I decided to ring it with my home phone. I rang it once and it rang through, I then rang it again and it cut off. 30 seconds later my home phone started to ring with my mobile number showing on the screen. I answered the phone and the following conversation took place.

Me: Hello?
Woman's voice: Hello? Who is this please?
Me: My name's Lisa. I couldn't find my phone so I rang it. I'm taking it you have it.
Woman's voice: It was brought into the Police Station. We have it now.
Me: Oh! Is there anyway I can come and pick it up?
Police Woman: I'm going to need proof that this phone is yours.
Me: Of course. It's an iphone 3GS, it has a load of cracks on the front screen and it has a picture of my god daughter in a pink dress as the wallpaper. Is that enough?
Police Woman: Not really. Can you let me know the last text you sent from it?
Me: Ummm. I sent a text a message to my friend Rachael telling her I was stuck at Finsbury Park station on the train and I would be late to meeting her.
Police Woman: ...
Me: Can you find it?
Police woman: That is a text message on there but it isn't the last one there.
Me: Really?
Police woman: What can you tell me about the text message you sent from this phone asking someone for Cocaine?
Me: (Starts to panic) I'm sorry, what??!!
Police woman: There is a text message sent from your phone asking for cocaine. What can you tell me about that?
Me: I promise you I didn't send that! I've never taken Cocaine in my life.
Police Woman: Well how do you explain the message?
Me: It must have been sent by whoever found the phone. I promise you, I've never taken any drugs in my life. I drink alcohol occasionally but I PROMISE you I would not be asking for Cocaine... Who was the text message sent to?
Police Woman: Someone called Harry.
Me: It really wasn't me, I can't say that enough!
Police Woman: ...
Me: Am I in trouble?
Police Woman: I think it's best if you come down to the station so we can talk to you about that.
Me: Now? It's about 1 in the morning!
Police Woman: We just have a few questions we would like to ask you.
Me: Well I'm in my pyjamas at the moment, it might take me a while to get changed but of course I'll come down. I should be there in half an hour.
Police woman: ...
Me: Is that okay?
Police woman: (Starts to laugh) Lisa you arse! It's me!
Me: What??!!... Claire?
"Police Woman": I can't believe you fell for that!
Me: I can't believe you did that!! THIS is why you are called Claire-The-Bully!

Ladies and gents, that was by far the most scared I have ever been in my life. One-And-Only-Daniela was also completely terrified as she had to sit by and listen to me apologising to an officer about cocaine use.

I honestly thought this was going to end up being one of those things you see on TV where I was going to end up in prison for something I hadn't done. My mother would have cried, my permanent record would have been down as a druggie and I would end up never being able to get a job and end up living on the streets until eventually I died of malnutrition or some kind of disease.

Having said all that, I've never been so happy that it was a joke. I also have to agree that Claire-The-Bully got me pretty good.

Well done Claire-The-Bully, I tip my hat to you.

This 'saying stupid things over the phone' milarkey seems to be happening far too often for my liking.

A phone conversation that took place two hours ago between myself and Rachael-The-Bully. 

Rachael-The-Bully has been changed to RTB.

RTB: Hi Lisa, what have you and One-And-Only-Daniela got planned tonight?
Me: Oh nothing big, probably just down to the local for a couple of drinks. I've got a really bad cold so it can't be a late one. Fancy it?
RTB: Yeah, actually that works really well as Claire has had that Thyroid problem this week so she's not really up for a late one either. 
Me: I've been meaning to talk to her about that! She text me on Wednesday telling me about that and then the next day my Thyroids had swollen up to twice their size. She had somehow managed to pass it to me over text.
RTB: Um Lisa?
Me: Yeah?
RTB: Do you really mean your glands?
Me: ...
RTB: I mean you DO know that you only have one Thyroid and it's on your spine not under your jaw, right?
Me: Actually that explains a lot. I was telling Work-Buddy-James about how I had caught Claire-The-Bully's thyroid problem and he had looked at me blankly and asked me if I had actually meant thyroid. Which I gleefully had confirmed. 
RTB: Don't you work in a hospital?
Me: Yeah but it's a Mental Health hospital and I'm admin, I don't need to know anything about general medicine.
RTB: Still Lisa, that's really bad... I'm going to have to email Claire with this one. 
Me: Brilliant. Even more ammo. Tonight's going to be grand. 

Most of the time I have a logical explanation for the 'not normal' things that come out of my mouth. But sometimes? Sometimes I'm just that stupid. 

You gain some bullies... you lose some

It's a rare occasion when I can write a post about Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully and actually have a nice experience to tell.

Last night I met up with Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully at our local pub (also dubbed 'the second front room'). It was pretty exciting because in addition to our little threesome a good friend of ours who we don't see nearly enough was there too, his name is Jamie and he's pretty awesome.



Rachael-The-Bully got a little nostalgic when we all sat down and remarked how it was like having the family back together again. You see, Rachael-The-Bully has a really nice house and each one of us out that night has rented the same room from her at some point. I had it first, then Jamie took over and now Claire-The-Bully lives there.

I feel I should go back a little as before I sat down Rachael-The-Bully and Jamie hinted to me the type of evening I should be expecting by mocking me and the fact that my long top had got itself humourously caught and they thought it only fair to remark about this rather loudly in the garden for all to hear.

Due to this, Jamie has joined the bullying clan and will from this point always be referred to as Jamie-The-Bully as well (he did have another name he wanted me to use but I decided that I was going to keep the blog clean).

An hour in our new friend Stefan joined us and I felt I had an ally now. Although all three of them really were on top form that night, after every sarcastic remark they would then look at each other, point and say "I bet that ends up on her blog." It was at this point that I realised I may have created a monster in giving them the nicknames I have... Ah well, at least it gives me something to write about.

Now I know so far it doesn't seem that there has been any good experience to share here but Claire-The-Bully did something later that would redeem her from all the jibes from the night. (Rachael-The-Bully and Jamie-The-Bully are not redeemed and should start thinking about buying me stuff to say sorry.)

After my blog on my book Claire-The-Bully wanted to know why she had never been given the book to read. I told her it was because she had previously stated that she doesn't read books that often and if I were to send it to her she probably wouldn't read it. She then told me that I was a liar and she would never have said that to which I replied I had enough written evidence to prove that that definitely would be something she could have said.

Anywho, she asked to read it and so I hastily whored my book off to another reader and emailed it to her. The next day she informed me that she had not only printed the book out but that she had bound it as well.

I nearly cried with happiness as I excitedly told her that she had just gotten my book the closest it's ever been to published. Knowing that I was going back to hers on Saturday I made sure that I had brought my camera so that I could forever remember what it looked like.

When last night came though and we travelled back to The-Bullies house, even I wasn't quite prepared for just how emotional seeing my book in that form made me.

I mean it's my book guys, my baby. For so long it has been sitting on my hard drive and staring out at me from my screen but now there it was... in page form... bound together... with a little blue front cover and everything.

Claire-The-Bully could see how attracted I had become to the book (there may have been elongated hugging and unwillingness to let go of the book involved). In a moment of pure loveliness she said I could have it. She'd just print off another one.

Guys, I know this may not seem like anything amazing, and I'm sure a lot of you are wondering why I didn't just bind the book myself. Unfortunately I don't own a printer in my house, let alone a little binding machine that turns my book into a sexy little minx.

So Claire-The-Bully, due to your wonderfulness and lovely act of generosity, I have decided to reciprocate by granting you one moment of non bullydom and say, this one time:

Thank you Claire. You are awesome.

Check it out! It's my book!!

I wonder what I can expect from being indebted to a cloud? What could they possibly want to collect?

Claire-The-Bully has been shortened to CTB

I knock on Claire-The-Bully's door, she opens it

Me: I'm ready to run.
CTB: (Looks me up and down) They're not running shoes mate.
Me: Listen, I'm just surprised I own trainers at all.
CTB: You're going to need running shoes if we're going to do this regularly.
Me:(Lifts up foot to show CTB the underneath of my trainers) But look! They've got loads of grip. I've only worn them once.
CTB: It's got nothing to do with the grip, it's about having the right bounce in the right places.
Me: I'm sure I'll be fine.

Five minutes later I press play on my cool new iphone app. The lady tells us to brisk walk... we do. CTB gives me another look over

CTB: Are you even wearing a sports bra?
Me: (I pause and look at her sheepishly) No.
CTB: Mate! Not only is that going to hurt but you'll end up with saggy boobs!
Me: It's fine. I'm making up for it by wearing a bra and a top that also supports.
CTB: You need to think about buying these things if we're going to take this seriously.
Me: I'm sure I'll be fine. Besides, remember when I moved out on my own and got all that freedom?
CTB: Yeah?
Me: Well it turns out I had to trade every penny I will ever earn for the privilege. As a result I have become queen of economising.
CTB: Oh for crying out loud, I'll lend you some trainers.
Me: Thanks Claire! I'll blog about it so you don't forget.

I did it.

I ran for a minute, then walked for a minute and a half, and I did that 8 times. I have to do the same thing 3 more times then I get to progress to the next level. How exciting!

I'm amazingly pumped about the whole thing. My legs don't even hurt that much this morning. The bottoms of my feet and my upper back ache a little but hey, no one said economising didn't come with a few sacrifices.

I think Claire-The-Bully was slightly amused by my 'noob' choice of clothing. After the bra comment I made a conscious decision not to tell her that my whole clothes choice that day was picked out not due to suitability but rather due to what I thought made me look most like a runner.

...

Yes, it's alright, you can say it. I am definitely not what you might call an 'outside person.'

The rain stopped just in time for us to run. The clouds didn't disappear altogether but they crossed their fluffy legs and waited until we were done. Thank you clouds, I am now in your debt.

Claire-The-Bully wants to go out again tonight and although I had initially agreed to this, I'm feeling a little reluctant now. The 'Get Running' app has instructed that we mustn't run until Friday and if anyone knows what they're talking about, it would be the app. I'm entrusting my future fitness to it... plus you know, I'm knackered and I don't want to.

I was really proud of myself though. I even celebrated by cooking a large pizza in the oven and eating it after nine so that my body couldn't process it properly before I went to bed.

I've booked in my next run for Saturday afternoon (yes, I have already decided not to go out tonight). I'm really looking forward to it!... wonder how long that will last.

PS: I'm going to see Attack the Block tonight with Film-Buddy-Kezia. Check out the review on filmsworthseeing
sometime tonight or tomorrow!

Peace out my lovelies.

It was just one of those days...

Sorry for no post yesterday. I started to write it. It was going to be another 'Rachael-And-Claire-The-Bully' saga, only this time with a twist. (For about three glorious hours Claire-The-Bully decided to side with me against Rachael-The-Bully and became a new person... Claire-The-Ally.)



Unfortunately, when writing this on the train home I got knocked in the chest with an overwhelming sad feeling and my brain, as a result, shut down.

Emotions have been a little high this week and so I should have seen this mini attack coming but I had had a very busy day and so hadn't had time to really register it creeping up behind me.

I'm blessed nowadays because due to a fine tuned, kick ass coping system I can keep what I call 'Sad Attacks' down to lasting only one day... two max.

For those who are a little confuddled by the term 'Sad Attack,' let me clarify.

This is not 'sad' in the term that I've just done a really geeky thing I deem as uber cool but others would deem as me having too much time on my hands (I tend to just phrase that as 'have you seen my new blog?').

'Sad Attack' is where for no particular reason and at any given moment, you become very aware of the sob in your throat and all you want to do is eat ice cream, watch Andrew Garfield on the telly and cry yourself to sleep.

Sometimes this can be triggered by something genuinely sad but the more interesting ones are the Attacks that get you for no apparent reason and suddenly your schedule that night is wide open and crying is all there is that is booked in.

For this demonstration I turn to the Marmite of comics... you either love him or you hate him (either way, this clip is funny to all) Dane Cook.



I deal with this in my own little dramatic ways. Drawing all curtains, locking phones in other rooms (I can't turn it off, I always worry someone maybe being kidnapped at that exact moment) curling up on the sofa with food and forcing a lot of pressure on the TV to make me laugh. (It does try bless it, but then it knows what will happen if it doesn't...)

The next day, when I've won the 'Sad Attack' fight, I get to roll my eyes at the whole experience and give the 'Sad Attack' all the attitude and insults I wasn't able to the night before... as mentioned before, I am highly competitive.

So today I'm writing again (take that 'Sad Attack!') and I have just one more thing to say to you guys.

Today is Claire-The-Bully's birthday!!



As this is the case I hereby decree that everyone is to leave their house immediately and have a drink to celebrate. I'm sure she wouldn't oppose to having it as a national holiday! I'd start a petition if it wasn't for the following reasons:

1. I don't know how to start a petition.

2. I'm pretty sure the official response to the petition would be 'Who's Claire?'

3. Why should she get one if I have to work on mine? I can't believe anyone could have even suggested such a thing!

Oh my days, it's been a right Royal havoc today!!

Biiiig day today in the world of the British. I have never felt so patriotic and completely in love with our Royal family as I did today.

Today in a world that seems to be falling apart around us, we got to take a break. We got to come together in unity and say, 'Yes man, let's go to a wedding!' And boy did we do it. I watched the crowd in London today and I felt that familiar urge to jump out of my seat and bellow the national anthem at the top of my lungs.

In case you hadn't heard, Prince William (future king in like 70 years at this rate) got married to the absolutely stunning and completely normal Kate Middleton, making her the future queen of England (again, when she's old and grey).

Let's look at the lovely couple shall we?





So here's my day in a nutshell.

08:30am
Wake up to radio station trying to convince their correspondent who was in Buckingham Palace to steal something. Realise this could only mean that the day had finally arrived so tweeted my excitement and started the day with a skip in my step.

09:45am
Turned up at Rachael-The-Bully and Claire-The-Bully's house with bacon and bread so we could watch the lead up to the wedding on Rachael-The Bully's big screen and feed ourselves as well.

10:05am
I check my watch and tut in a disapproving manner as it would seem William was already late to his day. My mind then starts to imagine scenarios where he's completely freaked out and is insisting he can't go through with it.

10:15am
I realise my imagination has run away with me again and Prince William leaves Buckingham Palace with Prince Harry (or as I like to call him, 'The ultimate hunky ginger'). We all cross our fingers and toes in hope that he makes it to Westminster Abbey without any bombs or snipers going off.

They make it and I start breathing again.

10:30am - 11:00am
All the other Royal family arrive (Prince Charles and Camilla, Queen Elizabeth etc). Claire-The-Bully and I remark at how beautiful Kate's sister Pippa looked in her maid of honour dress. Rachael-The-Bully snaps at both myself and Claire-The-Bully for talking over the top of the commentator. Claire-The-Bully and I apologise.

11:05am (or there abouts)
Kate smuggles herself into the car that will be taking her to Westminster Abbey. We catch a glimpse of the dress. Claire-The-Bully and I marvel over what we've seen so far and comment on the lace at the top. Rachael-The-Bully turns the TV up uncharacteristically loud and throws us both a glare. Claire-The-Bully and I apologise again.

11:15 - 13:45
Kate arrives at Westminster Abbey and we finally get to see the full effect of the dress. It's minimalistic, elegant and absolutely gorgeous. We all agree on this and give our approval. I ring the Royal Wedding planners and tell them they can go ahead with the wedding because it's a unanimous approval from us three. They are grateful and radio it in that Kate can proceed into the building. She does.

The service was gorgeous, the hymns were well picked and Prince Harry was on top form, looking back at Kate as she walked down the aisle and then reporting back to Wills on what he saw. I like to think he said something along the lines of "She looks well fit mate." On the way out I make a comment about how I wouldn't put it past Harry to now hit on Pippa in his role as best man. In true timing genius, the next shot was Harry sliding in a few smooth words to Pippa as they left the church. Loved it.

Kate meets the crowd in her first appearance as a member of the Royal Family and Duchess of Cambridge. She looks stunning and gets into the carriage with such grace. Claire-The-Bully and I both agree that she may need to work on her wave a bit more. It seemed less regal and more "Everyone, look at me! I'm a princess!" Mind you, she did just become a Princess after coming out of almost nowhere so fair play Kate, you deserve that kind of wave! Rachael-The-Bully makes some kind of sarcastic remark about how they don't even need a commentator on the TV if we were going to insist on talking all the way through. Claire-The-Bully and I look at each other sheepishly and apologise again.

We wait an hour and marvel at the thousands of people who had turned up to see this wedding. All agreeing that we were a little jealous for not making the effort ourselves.

Kate and Wills come out onto the balcony and grace us with not one but two kisses as official husband and wife! (I absolutely loved that the second kiss was after Wills turned to Kate and went, "Another kiss?")

We all celebrated and hoorahed and laughed and got all patriotic.

14:30 - 20:00
I went to a barbeque to celebrate the wedding round Good-Buddy-Karls. I brought face paint. I saw this face (it belongs to a friend called Ben).



I knew I had to paint it. Ben wasn't happy with this decision so we made a deal. If I painted a Union Jack on my face without looking in a mirror then he would let me paint a lion's face onto his. I agreed.

It ended in this.



Only problem was I caught the bug and was soon begging others to let me try. Which turned into this.



(That's a Union Jack, a lion, and two pirates in case you weren't sure.)

The kids at the barbeque were also very excited about the face paints and attacked every person they could get their hands on, which turned into this.



All in all, Good times.

Cheers Wills and Kate, have a fabtabulous marriage!

I am so not competitive... in fact you could say that I am the most non competitive person there is... I'll arm wrestle you to prove it.

Here's a new thing about me that you will most undoubtedly die happy knowing about. I happen to have a very ugly looking competitive side. Especially when it comes to sports.

The one problem with this is unfortunately I happen to be very average when it comes to sport based games... Actually, who am I kidding? I'm highly below average.

So when I went to help Claire-The-Bully move into Rachael-The-Bully's house (at 8pm so that actually all of the moving in would have been completed) and Claire-The-Bully suggested unpacking her Wii Player, I should have guessed that this was going to turn me into a highly stressed out Lisa.

It's not that I want to suck all the fun out of the game until everyone has become really angry with each other in their sudden urge to win. It's just my competitive streak tends to goad people so much that the games always end up finishing that way.

I don't know what it is, but every time anyone mentions the word 'game,' I automatically am filled with a sudden urge to win. It starts as this little pull somewhere near the bottom of my chest, but then as the rules of the game are explained the urge will grow inside of me until it's buzzing around my head, telling me that bad things will happen if I don't win.

Not wanting the world to implode on itself (as it no doubtedly would if I did not feed my urge and win), I start psyching myself up, telling me that no matter how ridiculous the prospect of me winning can be in this scenario, I have to give everything I have until I have accomplished either victory or death.

This has been the case in a series of stupid games throughout my life.

Whether it's eating raw jelly in the quickest amount of time.



Swinging from a harness around an assault course in the trees.



Playing Bingo whilst on holiday.



Or even through a competition whereby I had to have come up with the best dance/costume to win.



(yes I am the one with the dramatic stance whilst everyone else on her team watches her nervously)

All that being said. I should have guessed that behaving this way around Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully would inevitably result in some ultimate ganging up on me from their side. I mean, they don't usually need much to get them going and me throwing catty remarks at them with each game I lost was going to rub them up the wrong way and make them hell bent to ensure I never won at anything ever again.

So when Rachael-The-Bully suggested a good game of Wii Bowling, I felt the urge start to pull somewhere near the bottom of my chest and I realised that this was not going to end pretty.

The first game went as it usually does with me when I play any kind of activity sport (be it real or virtual). I sucked majorly but refused to admit that that was the reason why I was losing and so blamed it on the game and not on me.

Yes, I do this all the time but this game I reckon I was actually justified. You see, I just couldn't get that stupid bowling ball to go in a straight line. No matter how straight I was bowling it (and trust me, I was) it would keep on veering off to one side.

"There's something wrong with this game." I said, after the eighth time of watching the ball fall into the gutter at the last moment.

Claire threw me a skeptical look. "It's funny how the game only seems to be reacting to you in that way isn't it?"

"That means nothing." I said. "It's your game, you've probably rigged it."

"You're obviously putting a curve on the ball at the last minute. Plus you're not centre to the TV. Get closer to Rachael."

"Claire, if I get any closer to Rachael I'm going to be sitting on her!"

"Please don't sit on me." Rachael murmured as she continued to rummage through her sewing bag and ignore the game completely.

I threw the virtual ball again, paying special attention to the angle of my hand and twisting it the right this time as I let go to prove my point. As was usual the ball rolled up the lane in a straight line and then at the last moment veered off to the left.

"It's broken!" I exclaimed, throwing the Wii remote at Rachael.

Rachael sighed and stood up with the remote. "It's not broken, look."

Rachael threw her arm back but stumbled as she brought it forward again, throwing it off to one angle, the virtual ball flew out of her hand and down the lane.

"Whoops, didn't mean to do that."

We all watched as the ball in some bizarre move curved it's way back into a straight line on the lane and smacked all the pins down, giving Rachael her third fluke strike in a row.

"Hey! Look at that!" Rachael laughed as she passed the remote to Claire and sat back down again.

Claire stared at her open mouthed. I shook my head in disgust. Pushing as much venom as I possibly could into it, I looked her in the eyes and muttered.

"I hate you."

The game continued as that until all ten goes were played, I came last, Jammy Rachael came second and Claire won out of, what she would call 'talent,' but what I would call 'a girl who has too much time on her hands that she would have played this game so much she was actually good at it.'

Apparently this was an example of how I played ugly when it came to games and if I were actually winning then I would think that was a good thing, but I wasn't too sure about that.

"Fancy another game?" Rachael asked.

Claire looked at me with a smirk pasted on her face. "Yeah, why not, it's always good to watch Lisa get upset over something."

Revived with the possibility of another game, whereby I would suddenly find my untapped talent for Wii Bowling and unleash it on the world, I hastily agreed.

"Bring it on," I said. "I was just warming up in the first game, I'll be ready for you now."

"Yeah right," Claire said. "You're not fooling anyone."

I stared Claire down and gave her my victory stance. I was going to win this one. I had to.

If I was honest, I knew it wouldn't happen. I knew it was lost before it began. But I couldn't stop the urge within me to win. I had to try.

I threw my first bowl and watched it, as per usual, veer off to the left. I growled at the TV and cursed the people who had thought up Wii. I then threw the second bowl and in some miraculous 'Rachael like' move I watched the ball knock over the remaining pins.

I had scored my first spare. MY FIRST SPARE!!!!

Overwhelmed by my sudden talent I danced around the room, pulling a less than excited Claire into a dance with me.

The game progressed and one after the other, on each of my turns, I continued to get spare after spare after spare. Somewhere around the sixth go I then progressed my talent to the next level and watched myself bowl a strike.

The moment that last pin hit the floor it was as if the world had gone into silence. I watched transfixed as the word Strike appeared on my screen, and then the excitement began. I erupted.

I created a new dance to add to my repertoire. A victory dance. I can't really explain it too much but it did involve a lot of waving my bum in the faces of Claire and Rachael.

I don't really want to tell you rest of the story as it is possible that my game loses some of it's pizazz after that. So I'm going to be one of those people that only tells half of a story and leave you with the image that I finally beat the lovable bullies, Claire and Rachael, because in my mind that's where the game ended and that's when I became victorious.

Plus this has become a really long post and if by some miraculous chance you are still with me, I want you all to still love me and not become bored.

Peace out.

Flight of the conchords is my life and RACHAEL has ruined it!!!!!

I'm around Rachael's house tonight. The most amazing thing happened, flight of the conchords was on! I was watching in true love obsession. Then the worst person in the world changed the channel. Suddenly in a fit of passion, I slapped Rachael silly and insisted that I needed to see them perform but she didn't care!! She just insisted on finding a 'better channel!' Like such a channel exists!!!!!

I fell into a fit of depression as I tried to find the awesome magical channel that showed 'Flight of the Conchords' but I couldn't find it! She had lost it forever! I'm soooo upset. I've lost my reason for living and Rachael is the reason for this. And Claire, who is supposed to be my friend, just laughed and let it happen.

They complained that this would make them see like bullies again, but I argued that if they had just let me have my moment of happiness they would have seemed like angels. They ruined my life however and now I am crying... Rachael and Claire, you don't understand my life and the happiness involved. You've ruined my life of happiness.

BAD FRIENDS, BAD BAD FRIENDS!!

UPDATE: I couldn't add this as I was at Rachael's at the time of writing the above post but when I asked Claire and Rachael to show their remorse for their horrible deed this was what they told me to upload...



BAD FRIENDS! BAD BAD FRIENDS!!

So it turns out I'm the victim of bullying so intense I didn't even realise it was happening.

So I tend to write about a lot people on this blog. Depending on whether they've done something in my vicinity that I have deemed to be interesting. Yes granted, the jury is still out as to whether this is actually interesting but you get the idea.

Two people that seem to have dominated a lot of my posts however are my good buddies Rachael and Claire. (Remember? That one about Pork and then the one about Geese and then the one about the Fire?)


NB: I had a much more awesome and kick ass photo up but Claire made me remove it. So instead I have a 'nice' one of her. Spoil sport.

I was out with both of these lovely ladies again last night. It was day three of the sun and I wish more than I have ever wished before that I could have got a picture of the pub garden we went to after work. If I ever needed a perfect example of what I was talking about in my blog about Brits and the sun then yesterday was it.

The pub garden we were in was tiny but that did not stop us from utilising a Friday evening possibility of sun and Pimms. Everyone was standing outside in the little square of grass literally like sardines. No one could actually move due to the amount of people desperate to enjoy what could possibly be our only chance at a summer.

Anywho we stood there for a while and then decided to go back to Rachael's. I had not heard anything from Claire and Rachael regarding my post on the life and death situation that was the fire so I decided to ask them what they thought.

"Hey guys." I said as we left the Chinese with our order.

"Hmmmm?" Claire murmured.

"Did you get a chance to read my blog I did on our fire a couple of weeks ago?"

"You have a blog?" Rachael said. "I didn't realise."

I looked at her blankly. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit you know."

Rachael grinned back.

"I read it." Claire said. "I got to say, I'm beginning to see a pattern in the way we come across in all of your blogs."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Well, it seems that whatever you are doing with us we always end up being the ones who just roll our eyes at you or throw you tired looks."

I thought for a moment.

"I was just saying that to some people at work the other day!" Rachael piped in. "I said that it seems like we're the parents tolerating you. If we actually were I'm pretty sure we'd get done for abuse based on what you write."

I nodded my head as I re read the three posts in my brain.

"You guys have a point." I said. "You should probably start being nicer to me then."

Claire threw me a tired look.

"You're the ones who are acting this way." I said. "You keep on behaving like that and I'll keep on writing it."

"You may be embellishing it for dramatic purposes." Claire said.

"I don't think I am."

"Well, I haven't read the fire post yet." Rachael said. "We'll read it when we get back to mine and decide."

We got back to Rachael's and I gave my very first live performance of a blog. Pretty much at every line they both started laughing as the memories of that night came back.

"Was I lying?" I asked.

Claire thought for a moment before answering.

"Nah, that's pretty much how it went."

"I guess we're just abusive then." Rachael added.

"I guess you are."

One more post to add to the case.

Oh and in related news. Rachael almost fire to her house again last night. This time with some tin foil, a lighter and some coal... That story actually sounds a lot more interesting that the one I just told but I've written it now and am too sleepy to re-write anything more. I also ended the night by throwing cards at Rachael, calling her a cheater and storming out of the house... That one also seems like a better story. Ah well.

The night where Rachael set fire to her house.

Last night I went to Rachael's house again with Claire. This is something that generally happens each weekend.

At about ten o clock Claire decides that she's hungry. Rachael suggested cooking sausages. I heard that sausages were being cooked and suddenly also felt famished.

Rachael puts eight sausages under the grill (she wasn't eating any, this was purely for mine and Claire's sausage sandwiches only). They started sizzling away and I promptly decided I needed the ladies room.

When I came out of the downstairs toilet into a cloud of smoke I deduced that something might have gone awry with the sausages. Going into the kitchen however I did not expect to see what I did. Rachael was standing over the grill poking at eight sausages which were now all on fire.

Now I'm not talking about a small flame dancing off some fat, I'm talking about large 'I could take off your eyebrows' kind of flames.

Now would have been a good time for me to have taken a picture so that you could see for yourself the tray of death Rachael had held in one hand. Unfortunately grabbing my camera so we could have a Kodak moment was the last thing on my mind. So instead here's a picture of a fire that was a lot worse than our one but looks good for dramatic effect.



I would like to say that I dealt with the situation with a clear head and a calm attitude but alas that particular moment of my life was not my finest hour. Instead this is how it went.

"Um Rach." I murmured, upon first catching sight of the flames. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"It's fine, the grill just caught some of the fat that's all."

"Shouldn't we try and put it out?"

Rachael threw me a tired look. "I am trying."

Rachael poked the sausages, trying to separate them from each other in the vain hope that that would calm the flames down.

It didn't.

Instead the flames got higher and more smoke started clouding the room. At this point I got scared and started my little panic dance.

"Rachael! That's a real fire!"

"I know it's a real fire Lisa, I'm trying to put it out."

When it was clear that I wasn't getting the correct reaction out of Rachael, I ran into the living room.

"Claire! Claire! Rachael's sausages are on fire! Come and look!"

Claire was laying on the sofa, all cuddled up in her blanket and it was clear that she did not want to move from this spot.

"It's probably just a bit of fat that's got caught." She said.

"It's exactly that!" I cried. "Only, the fat has been caught A LOT! This whole house it going to burn down unless we do something!"

I ran back into the kitchen to find Rachael attempting to remove the alight grill tray from the grill. Again this just seemed to aggravate the flames more.

"What can I do? What can I do?" I asked Rachael, whilst creating new moves to add to my panic dance (this is very similar to the 'I need the toilet dance' only with more arm movements).

"Open the kitchen door so we can get some of this smoke out."

I obediently ran to the kitchen door that led to the garden and wedged it open. Using my new dance to wave some of the smoke out into the night air. I then turned back to the oven and saw that Rachael had now managed to put out part of the fire but there were larger flames accumulating around the remaining part.

Seeing that Rachael clearly was struggling and knowing that I had no experience with this kind of thing as I am a complete noob when it comes to all household emergencies, I ran back to Claire.

"Seriously Claire, this thing is huge!"

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" Claire asked.

"You could put it out!"

"Why can't you?"

"I don't know how."

"Stick some water on it Lisa, come on, it's not hard!"

I ran back, clearly terrified that I was going to have to own the task of putting water on the fire when I saw Rachael shove a tea towel over the last of the flames and put it out completely.

"You put it out?" I asked Rachael.

"It would seem so."

I ran back to Claire. "It's okay Claire, Rachael's put it out. But you missed some big flames."

Claire decided to get up at this point and proceeded to help waft the smoke out of the kitchen while Rachael stood out in the garden and attempted to remove the smoke from her eyes.

Looking back and judging by the others reactions to this fire next to mine, I do wonder if maybe I had made this into a much bigger thing than they had. But still, it was my first oven fire and I was running off adrenaline.

I didn't get a picture of the fire, but here's a picture of the sausages after.



And here's Rachael telling Claire of the amazing help I had been in the putting out process.



All in all a rather eventful evening. Ta ta for now.

Peace out.

Geese... a little tale.

So I have been trying my little hardest to do one of those video things that I hear so much about on Youtube. I have this idea you see, and in my head it's freaking hilarious and completely awesome. However when I try and implement this absolutely fabtabulous idea something goes awry and I just end up looking at myself so much through my little editing programme that I start to hate myself and spiral into a downwards self loathing spiral that eats away at me from the inside...

So I decided that maybe those feelings weren't good feelings and instead I should come onto this wonderful little blog and write to you wonderful people in an exercise that doesn't make me want to claw my own eyes out. I'm sure you'll agree that this is a good choice to make.

There is a thought in my little plum-filled mind that I had the other day and I wanted to ask for your expert opinion on any insight into it. My thought concentrated completely on Geese.



Geese have always been these loud, very intimidating birds to me that used to wake me up at six in the morning when I lived with my friend Rachael. As such, I never gave them much thought other than how much I would like to come into their homes at three in the morning and scream at them until they woke up. Then maybe they would now what it feels like (This was something I never did but did dream about often).

Anywho, now that two and half years has past since I lived in that house, I found myself walking with Rachael back to her house from the pub on Saturday evening and actually looking at the Geese whilst experiencing a feeling other than disdain. In fact, as I stared, a burning curiosity started to take control. Both Rachael and I watched these birds take off into the air and fly together in their perfect V formation.



"Hey Rachael?" I asked.

"Yes Lisa."

"What makes the Geese fly in a V like that?"

Rachael took a second to look up at the birds as they flew overhead and thought for a moment.

"I have absolutely no idea."

"Oh."

I let it go for a couple of minutes until more questions piled on top of the burning curiosity.

"Hey Rachael?"

"Yes Lisa."

"Who gets to pick to be in front?"

Rachael who by now had clearly moved onto other things in her mind looked at me confused.

"I'm sorry?"

"Out of the nine birds that are currently flying in the V, who gets to pick to be in front?" I explained. "And for that matter, who then decides they're going to fly second and third? And most importantly, how do they share this news with each other?"

Rachael had thrown me a bewildered look at this point that told me I had clearly put too much thought into this, but I simply stared back at her with mild curiosity, waiting for her response.

When it was clear to her that I wasn't going to let it go without her answer she said. "I don't know."

By this point my thought process had taken on a life of it's own and the questions continued to roll.

"Do you suppose when they're squawking at each other they're actually speaking a language we don't understand or do you think they're just making noise?"

Before Rachael could even open her mouth to answer, I had continued. Clearly now having this conversation more with myself rather than anyone else. Rachael was pretty used to me when I got like this so simply walked along and let me carry on until I would inevitably run out of steam.

"I think I'd always thought that they were just making noise but now that I look at the V formation I'm going to have to rethink my whole outlook on it. I mean there has to be some form of communication involved in order for them to know where to go."

Excitement filled my eyes as a new idea came to me.

"Ooh, ooh! Maybe they're telepathic! Maybe they can read each others mind and that's how they know where to go!" My face had fallen as this idea had just opened up whole new series of questions. "But then does that mean that Geese are technically a superior and cleverer race than we are because they are able to use a part of their brain that we can't?"

All blood left my face as the next question dawned on me. "Can they read our minds?"

I looked over at Rachael, my eyes wide and once again expecting an answer. It took her a while to realise this and I'm not too sure if she had even been listening to any of it anyway, but whatever the case she had heard the last question because, after a few moments, she answered me.

"I don't think Geese can read minds Lisa."

"But how do you know?"

"I don't."

We had fallen quiet again after this. Once we reached Rachael's front door though, she turned to me.

"You're going to blog about this aren't you?"

I let out a small impish grin and she rolled her eyes.

"It's the pork blog all over again." She said. "We have one stupid small conversation in between loads of massive, more interesting conversations and for some reason you choose to make a whole post out of it."

Well...

I fail to see what's more important than me learning how close I was to dying because I had wanted to cook some meat.

And as for the Geese? If anyone can tell me how they manage to be so organised, you'd really be taking a huge weight of confusion off my shoulders.

Ta muchly.

Originally posted: 07/03/11 Pork... oh dear

I've just cooked pork for the first time in my little flat (FYI, it did not look at all like the above picture, my actual food was guzzled before I thought of taking a picture. I know, careless). The house I lived in prior to this one was with my parents and my dad was a very big pork cooker so I've never previously had the privilege of cooking this particular meat myself.

When I initially bought this meat on my Tesco delivery shop I was overcome with the excitement of being a proper cook who cooks meat from scratch and without the use of the microwave. The meat arrived with the rest of my shop and I cleverly realised that I should put it straight in the freezer as I would not be eating my meat for a while and did not want it to go off.

Step one of being a proper cook was complete and I was proud. I walked around the place with my head that little bit higher because I was on my way to being a true independent woman who does true independent cooking.

A week passed and I was finally ready for my big Pork Chop cook. I strutted proudly to the freezer a whole night early so as to allow the pork to thaw (I remembered to do this due to me being a supreme cook) and opened the packet of four pork chops. Knowing that I couldn't possibly eat all four chops at once I went to pick just one of the porks out of the plastic box and gaped moronically as all four followed it. Ah. They had frozen together.

Not a problem. I had recently purchased a massive butcher knife that couldn't possibly let me down in being awesome and separating the frozen meat.


EDIT: Upon looking at this photo I would like to stress that, contrary to how it may look on this picture, the knife was in fact in front of me whilst I posed and I was not trying to slice my cheek open.

The huge knife alas then proceeded to letting me down. I was heart broken for about two minutes and spent a few moments staring at the knife whilst fighting back angry tears and overcoming my feeling of betrayal. After I'd put the knife down however I realised that I had no option but to defrost all four chops and see what I could get away with doing with it without poisoning myself.

What I could do, I found out the next day, was not much at all.

I went out for a late lunch with two of my lovely ladies, Claire and Rachael, who have openly told me they will not be reading this blog due to not enjoying reading on computers... it makes me feel slightly giddy with power at their flat out refusal because I could say anything and they would never know!

....

Damn it, I can't think of anything. I wish there was a T shirt for this kind of thing. Oh wait there is.



Anywho. I mentioned my pork fiasco to them and how I now had to cook four pork chops when really I only had the stomach to eat one... maybe two. Claire and Rachael are my 'i've lived independently for years and know what I am doing' grown up friends. They are very useful in these situations as well as being very fun to play cards with and watch Kill Bill with.

Claire began shaking her head in that way that said, 'Lisa you have made a rookie mistake' and automatically I felt my cook pride dwindle within me and my head dropped a few inches from it's previous high place. This lead to the following conversation.

Claire: Oh Lisa, you don't freeze four pork chops together
Lisa: You don't?
Claire: Not unless you're hungry for a whole pig.
Lisa: What did I do wrong?
Claire: You should have separated them before hand. Then the meat could be eaten individually.
We sit in silence as I slowly deflate inside.
Lisa: Ah. That seems entirely sensible. I probably should have thought of that.

It was after this point that I then found out just how dangerous cooking pork chops is. The following rules needed to be followed completely in order to escape the possibility of death.

1. You must cook all the meat within 24 hours or you will throw up and die.

2. You must ensure that there is no pink in the meat at all once you have cooked it otherwise you will throw up and die.

3. You must not reheat the meat (even in the microwave) once it has cooled as doing so will cause you to throw up and die.

4. You must not cook meat in the same pan as any other meat otherwise eating either of these meats will cause you to throw up and die.

5. You must ensure that the meat is cooked just to white and not for any longer otherwise... well you won't throw up and die, it just won't be very nice.

I went home, took the pork out of the fridge and stared at it, a thin bead of sweat poured down my forehead as I contemplated all the rules there were in order to keep myself from dying a violent and puke filled death. It almost didn't seem worth it anymore. If only I had known when I had been internet shopping with Tescos.

However I am no quitter. I had bought the pork. I had defrosted the pork. I was darn well going to eat the sodding pork. I talked myself up, reminding myself that I was a strong independent woman who had her own flat and her own grocery list. I was capable of this, no, I was BORN to do this. Once I had worked myself up into a cooking frenzy, the heights of which would make any independent woman proud, I reached across the counter, picked up the phone and called my mum.

Mum and 'pork cooking expert' dad talked me through it step by step. They told me exactly what I had to do, the exact temperature to grill my meat and when to know to take it out. Re-iterating over and over, 'just as long as it isn't pink on the inside, you should be fine.'

I put the phone down, cooked some noodles to go with my 'mission impossible' food and once I double and triple checked that the pork wasn't pink I added them with the noodles, crossed myself, said a little prayer and ate the meal.

About halfway through I noticed my new rookie mistake of course. I'm one of those really classy ladies that eat everything with ketchup. I had smeared the ketchup over noodles and pork and as a result the juices soaked into the meat. Several times I caught pink sections in my otherwise beautifully white meat. I made a judgement call and ate the rest. I fear that may have been the wrong call. I don't feel too well...

NB: In case you're worried, I wouldn't be, my body likes to think it's a hypochondriac. I had a standard safety training session at work today, when they mentioned rashes I started to itch and examine my skin. When they talked about diarrhoea and vomiting virus, my stomach did a somersault and insisted it was going to try and throw up. When we were discussing bacteria passing through hand hygiene, my hands suddenly felt sticky and disease ridden. Luckily my brain was there to keep them all in check and tell them they were being stupid. I'm sure it will rescue the day for this situation as well and argue the logic to my body before it tries to give up on me altogether.