Friday, 14 December 2012


Ill. Poorly. Below par. Indisposed. Sickly. Under the weather.

Without beating around the proverbial bush, I am unwell.

What started off as a common cold has snowballed into my pins giving way, delirium being heightened, a strange Michelin man look about me and the loss of my voice. Cue violins.

Last night was my works Christmas bash. 

Held at Grill on the Alley, Manchester, it was everything a firm's party should be; flowing wine, personable (accommodating) waiting on staff, drinking games (21's), crummy cracker offerings and a night permeated with, for want of a better word, 'banter'. 

Food = top notch, which is no mean feat being that there was 30 of us. Excellent work team (name check Lizzy, an absolute sugar). A special mention to my friend and part-time living doll Mo Wang for facilitating.

Amusing that intoxication allows logic to be replaced with idiocy. I felt on top of the world (albeit with a very husky/sexline tone) until I skipped into a vehicle homeward bound, became violently ill, was taken to A&E who kindly informed me I have a flu strand. 

verb (used with object)
to drive or leave (a ship, fish, etc.) aground or ashore: The receding tide stranded the whale.
(usually used in the passive) to bring into or leave in a helpless position: He was stranded in the middle of nowhere.
verb (used without object)
to be driven or left ashore; run aground.
to be halted or struck by a difficult situation: He stranded in the middle of his speech.
the land bordering the sea, a lake, or a river; shore; beach.
I didn't care for such melodramatic insinuations.
As I sit here, rendered silent, I can't help but weep as an emoticon summarises my feelings perfectly:


Sunday, 2 December 2012

Double You.

4 months.

4 facts.

I went to the Aurora Ball last month. Held at the Waldorf, London, in support of the charity Richard House. I have interdenominational views on such affairs. Restraining my trite rambling, I will paint an image that summed up the night: Several mothers of terminally ill children who benefit(ed) from Richard House were present (making up around 2% of those in attendance). As an individual who has close family who are physically and mentally disabled, I felt a slight affiliation with these women so made an effort to speak to them. On their way out, I shook their hands and wished them all the luck for the future, they beamed at me noting that I was only one of a handful of people who had spoken to them, asked about their children, and taken an interest. They had had a superb evening, had a glimpse into 'another world' but were under no illusions that this was a reality. Such selfabnegation, such humility - such a rarity. My heart hurts thinking about it.

This is what I wore;

Taken in my hotel room (Park Grand London - sterling chambers)*. 

People who feel lonely are more likely to take longer showers and longer baths (from WTFFacts)

I believe it time to admit I have an irrational fear of lisps. Wayward.

*Little did I think that 92% of women at said event, would wear black. I cannot tell a lie, I enjoyed this fact (marginally).