Have yourselves a Merry little Christmas!

Hello one and all - feelin' all Christmassy! Yeah baby! Let's get all holly-jolly-baubley-mistletoey-tinselly-presenty-turkey...ey and so on and so forth

Oh yes. I'm back at the old homestead in the wild lands of the north, and, judging from the provisions in the kitchen, my Mum and Dad clearly have my brother and I confused with a small army. Yeah, yeah, we'll eat all the food anyway - It's Christmas! A time for eating brie, gorging on chocolates and drinking from 11am everyday. It can't just be my family, right?

Well, what with all the eating and drinking and present opening, plus my rather hectic relaxtion schedule, including all the TV-watching, I'm not sure how much posting I'll be able to fit in. So, hope you all have a blast, and I'll see you the other side...probably a few pounds heavier, to be honest.

It's Christmas! Tell everyone you know!

And god created visa...

And she saw that it was good. Took the day off on Tuesday for a whole day of Xmas shopping. On Oxford Street. Yes, some may call it madness, but there was method in my madness. First port of call was the cash machine outside the station – after having selected the cash option, it shockingly displayed the words that send a chill down the spine of card carriers everywhere: ‘insufficient funds’. Egads! There I was, all set for a day of shopping, and disaster had stuck before I had even stood in the shadow of the hallowed doors of Libertys or Selfridges. I wandered around dazedly for about five minutes, trying to figure out how this could have happened, how I was going to shop, and slightly more importantly, how I was going to eat until pay day. Started to feel a bit pissed off about it all, and then I felt a change coming over me, and I reacted the way I always do when confronted with a lack of funds. A little voice in my head says ‘Fuck it, it’s only money!’, and I decided to hit my visa card in an act of rebellion and with nothing less than wild abandon.

Mini financial crisis thus temporarily shelved, I mentally regrouped and prepared to put my military-style shopping expedition into action. Entered the first shop at oh-nine hundred and forty-five hours, and immediately happened on a pair of boots so heavenly I shed a tear whilst trying them on - they had been reduced from £60 to £20 and I was overcome with emotion when they had them in my size. Snapped them up, moved on to the next shop and proceeded to find the fabled, lesser-spotted pencil skirt of myth which has eluded me for weeks, then hit the jackpot with a silky-satiny-black-lacy vesty top that will go with EVERYTHING in my wardrobe, which was also reduced, and as I was queuing to buy that spotted a Matthew Williamson cardigan with fluted sleeves out of the corner of my eye - added that to the pile of purchases. Took a break for lunch, gazed appreciatively at my bags whilst waiting for my food to be served and then realised I had not, as yet, bought any Xmas presents for friends and family. Hmm. Military precision clearly somewhat lacking – I lose all focus when I enter a shoe shop. Pulled myself together and spent about 30 mins whizzing round doing the gift buying, agonising over extras and stocking fillers etc, but got it all done…then continued buying things (for myself). Haven't had such a good shopping day in ages. Absolutely exhausting though.

Later on discovered there was a problem not with my cash card, but with the cash machine. I do have sufficient funds and will be able to buy food and survive until payday. As I related this story to Red, about how I had unnecessarily hammered my visa card, she said ‘Oh well, you can just pay off the visa next month.’ Yeah, right. Hasn’t she ever heard of the two words that make all visa card carriers feel warm and happy inside? Minimum payment...

Partay season

I know, I know, I’ve been a bit lax with the posting over the past week. I’ve got a good reason though – although many of you will find this hard to believe, I’ve been having to use the work pc for real, actual, well, ‘work’. That’s right. The office is in a frenzy of ‘getting-everything-done-before-xmas’, and I just got carried away – filing reports, working on the website, writing copy, you name it – I’ve been a whirling dervish of activity, barely even stopping to bid for things I don’t need on eBay, or continue my research to find the cheapest CD & DVD sites (done and done, if you live in the UK: BangCD.co.uk, and dvd.co.uk – both do it with free p&p – I don’t know how they do it, and I don’t want to know). I’m fairly astonishing myself with how much work I can get done when I put my mind to it. I have to be discreet about how fast I’m getting through the work load though – wouldn’t want to give my colleagues unrealistic expectations for the New Year – this is just a one-off, clear my desk before the holidays type of deal.

So to business. Well, I was quite exhausted following the flat pack activities of last weekend – the ASPELUND wardrobe proved more than a challenge, and I think my love affair with Ikea may be coming to an end. My brother helped me put it together, and, although it is standing now, injuries were sustained to both parties and the word ‘harrowing’ wouldn’t be far off the mark. Still, all that assembly (shudder) is behind me now, and in the whirlingly dervishly busy run up to Christmas means lots of parties to attend. Most of them are for work, so drunkenness would be ill-advised, though is probably likely, what with the alcohol being free at these events. It all kicks off tonight with a party for our clients. As the food is usually inedible whenever my company hosts an event, I’ll be sticking to the champers, sorry, that’s M&S Cava (my cheapskate company never splashes out on the real thing). I’ve taken the liberty of taking tomorrow off. I have big plans for Xmas shopping. I also had big plans for a lie in. But – that would just be too easy, wouldn’t it? The week I am attending no less than 5 parties, we are also having the central heating fitted, and thus will be without hot running water for 2 days. Of course. The central heating guys start at 8am tomorrow morning, which nixes the lie-in plans, but that doesn’t bother me as much as the possibility I may have to attend one or more party a little, um, ‘unkempt’, shall we say. Having said all that, we do desperately need the central heating, what with the arctic temperatures London is currently enjoying. So, I’ll just get on with it, hot water or no hot water. Gosh life is hard.

After tonight’s big ‘do’ – which despite the free alcohol, I’m not looking forward to as many of our clients who I would happily cross the road to avoid RSVP’d within hours of receiving their invites (they’re the kind of people who would attend the opening of an envelope, to be frank), then it’s the departmental lunch, which will be very formal, but that’s followed by Lena’s Xmas drinks, which I am looking forward to, but shouldn’t drink too much since I will be meeting my Dad (he’ll be fresh off his flight into Gatwick, well, I say ‘fresh’…) the following morning for breakfast, then it’s the Arty Party in the Crypt (more free alcohol), then it’s Amy’s Xmas party, which, rather handily, is walking distance from my house, so that should be a very good night. And that’s it, until the next week. If my liver is still functioning after all that, I’ll be back with a full report.

Party on. Be excellent to each other.

Flat Pack fun!

The best thing about Ikea, as everyone knows, is the silly names they give to the furniture. Red and I went to Ikea last week, and I bought the MALM 3 drawer chest of drawers, a BENNO CD tower (I flirted briefly with the BILLY CD tower, but it doesn’t come in oak veneer, so BENNO won on points), and a FELICIA throw for the bed. Red bought me an ASPELUND wardrobe. I’ve capitalised the names because a) that’s how they are on the ridiculously large labels, and b) it encourages you to say the names in a silly voice, enunciating each syllable (come on, you know you want to). We also bought a couple of MOTTO cereal bowls, an IRIS oven mitt, looked longingly at a lamp called TRUNNA, and realised we already had a bedside table called HALO.

So to the fun of assembly. I’ve not tackled any flat pack stuff since I first moved to London, when I bought a GLADIAT set of desk drawers. I managed to put it together alright, but I also remember losing several hours of my life to the project. But, you know, keeping my CDs in cardboard boxes is starting to get kind of tired, so, throwing caution to the wind and armed with a hammer and a Philips screwdriver, I gingerly opened the box containing the CD tower – I thought I would build up to the bigger items. It really wasn’t too difficult, I’m pleased to report, and probably would have been easier and quicker had I not been putting it together whilst keeping half an eye on the TV, talking to my Mum on my phone and drinking a glass of wine (what can I say, I just can’t help multi-tasking).

At a crucial point, I realised one of the screws was missing, but I’ve come to realise that a vital missing component is tied in with the whole Ikea culture. That’s right. They do it on purpose. Ikea is not simply a furniture store with oddly named stock. Oh no, it’s a lifestyle and a philosophy and an experiment all in one. How else would you explain the fact that the wardrobe doesn’t come with handles? Of course it doesn’t come with handles – that would be against the whole ethos of Ikea, apparently. They are clearly trying to encourage active thinking, a philosophical enterprise of some sort if you will. To me, and maybe to you too, a wardrobe is not complete without handles, but to Ikea, handles are merely ‘accessories’, to jazz it up post-assembly. Likewise, including the correct screws and fasteners in the box, or even detailed instructions would be wrong. As your heart sinks at the prospect of having to return to Ikea to get the improbably named handles, you find yourself questioning how necessary they really are…and then you’re off, pondering the meaning of life and the sound of one hand clapping.

I did feel a sense of triumph when I finished BENNO, but no spiritual awakening. On balance, I think that MALM and ASPELUND can stay in their cardboard boxes for a bit longer.