32 things

1. Always wash the outside of the dish first.
2. Karma is like horoscopes: it exists for you if you believe it.
3. If something doesn't ultimately make you happy then you probably shouldn't be doing it.
4. As long as your parents are around you never stop being a kid.
5. Everything is always better said face-to-face.
6. Everyone grieves differently. Event if they're grieving the same thing, their loss is different.
7. The best friends are like a bad smell; they hang around.
8. Resolving to be a better person is just the first step.
9. Sometimes it's the little things that make you happy.
10. It's a big world out there.
11. It's not possible to have too long a phone conversation.
12. Home is all the places your heart is.
13. If you want an honest answer, ask your mother.
14. I am incapable of picking my absolute favourite things: it's all about the 'top ten'.
15. Yorkie's ARE for girls too.
16. Mum's lamb roast IS better than a date with Tom Cruise.
17. Life doesn't wait just because you're not ready.
18. Bigger is not always better.
19. Virtuality will never improve on reality.
20. My favourite place is still the windowsill of my childhood bedroom at sunset.
21. 'Old' is always a little bit older than your parents.
22. There's a point in your life when you need to accept heredity
23. Most things are more than the sum of their parts.
24. Songs can send you back in time the way few other things can.
25. Best friends are the ones you'd do anything for.
26. At the end of the day you have no one to blame but yourself
27. There are some forms of grammar and punctuation I will never grasp, and some I will never forgive.
28. Every minute of every day shapes who we are.
29. It's always best to rinse and then air-dry glassware.
30.Even if you can't or don't remember, somebody else will.
31. I have 'a broken thermostat'.
32. Life is what you make it.

As a wise woman once said "Love, and other four letter words"

It's been a while, so let's start gently ...

Four letter words that represent my life:

Work. Food. File. Grrr. Help.

Four letter words that I love:

Food. Wine. Read. Blog. Call. Mail. Hope. Play. Film.

xxxooo

Someone get me a drink, stat.

Ah, for the optimism of last year ...

Ah, for the impending holiday of last year...

It's hard to believe it's nearly been a year since I was heading off on one of the best roadtrips known to man. The Deep South sucked me in and I left a little bit of my heart there when I had to leave. Oh for the days of Savannah. For Wet Willies. For flounder at The Olde Pink House. For Tybee Island. Even for the oppressive heat and ridiculous humidity.

Oh for the memories and unfulfilled ambitions.

As time goes by ...

And so more than 3 months have passed and as far as this blog is concerned I've done absolutely nothing!

While that's not quite the case, unfortunately I've spent most of my time working which is rather dull.

Not to worry, off on a desperately needed holiday in two days ... here's hoping a relaxed, restored Lizzie returns to follow up on a couple of projects this year.

Things are looking up, yes?

Still here ...

Nothing much happening. Lots of news to catch up on though ... I haven't even finished writing about last Christmas yet.

So many things, so little time, so little motivation. I need to make this my project this year methinks.

Ah well, off to the first of many Halloween parties. I'm going as a witch. How original.

xxxooo

Gone crackers

As I nibble on free hommus (bought for a cancelled staff meeting) and cream crackers (left over from a previous staff meeting) - oh the small pleasures of admin staff! - I find myself following through a little ritual.

One picks up the cream cracker and holds it on the sides with the face of the cracker towards you. One carefully analyses the central lines of holes to see which bisector has so slightly longer holes along its length; only an amateur would think that all holes are made equal. One arranges the cracker so this ever-so-slightly-longer-holed line runs vertically between one's nimble fingers. The next step is pure art: gently move one's thumb (on the front of the cracker) and one's fingers (to the rear of the cracker) further towards the central line and when reaching the optimum point flex the cracker away from one until it releases a resounding snap. Experts in the field will be left with a perfectly broken cracker in two perfectly equal halves. Amateurs will have a crumbly diagonal line, or something that looks similar to the perfect break but with flaws only visible to the expert eye.

I'd been doing this for a few minutes without thinking, when all of a sudden the thought struck me: "my, that's a perfectly cracked cream cracker in two perfect halves!"

I had a number of theories, but have come to the conclusion that my much beloved Grandpa has finally handed his cream cracking expertise over to me. Every lunchtime when we lived together, or when I visited, he would shake his head in dismay at the sight of my layman's attempts. Patiently he taught me his trade; eagerly I watched him prepare his crackers for an onslaught of spam or tongue.

While I'm sure he'd be proud of my latest achievement, I have no doubt that his ashes will be turning in their urn .... "Hommus?!"

And then karma bites you on the bum

Yesterday evening I turned up very late (even later than usual) for dinner and ordered after everyone else. When the bill came, my little order wasn't on there and it looked like I might have been the lucky recipient of a free meal!

But after a millisecond or two, that 'never-was-Catholic-but-might-as-well-have-been' guilt complex kicked in and as we left the restaurant I stood patiently by the bar, holding everyone up and insisted that my meal hadn't been on the bill we paid, waited some more while the waitress did her best to find my order and then handed over my hard earned credit.

When I rejoined my friends their cries/whispers of "don't be silly, just leave!" had mellowed slightly to murmurs of "oh aren't you good then", but I knew that really they were glancing sideways at me with only one thought: "sucker!"

At the end of the day I would have loved a freebie especially as it was a £4 snack, not a full meal, but I would have felt guilty about it for days and above and beyond every other reason, that could convince me. Are sleeplessness, a constant little voice in my ear and butterflies of the not-so-nice kind in my stomach really worth saving £4. Considering the fact I got twitchy, even as I handed over the dosh, simply because I hadn't added a tip, I think not.

So perhaps my moral compass is a little less cerebral than most people's - doing something i don't believe in results in the physical manifestation of a guilt complex - but that's not the end of the world. In a life that's full of indecision (I've often wondered if I should aim for decisiveness as a superpower, but I haven't been able to make up my mind), it's almost nice to know that when I believe in something it's not even a case of thinking about it - I'll just feel it in a non-emotional sense and I'll know.

To finally get to the point, this morning all this thinking and gut-churning finally made it's very clear moral point when I scored two free theatre tickets ... worth much more, fiscally and emotionally, than that measly £4.

I really should have thrown in a tip.