I love...

1) My toilet

I didn't realise how damned lovely it was to have the full use of a toilet in one's house until I spent nearly 24 hours with a useless toilet and a bucket to flush with. A new toilet was installed today and oh boy is it nice to have. Sadly it took them rather too many hours with the water off and by the end I was in desperate need of a coffee and a pee. I was not amused by the suggestion that I could in fact solve both requirements in one unpleasant go.


2) Richard Herring

I'm not bonkers. Or I'm no more bonkers than he is anyway, which is *distinctly* unbonkersy. He got an iPhone and he gets it! He does! He realises the love! Read here to see that I am not alone in my belovedness of the bestest ever gadgetry.
He blogged about sleep one time at virtually the exact same moment I did. And he pondered about getting old the day after my birthday. So to show my utmost respect for things that are most definitely not complete coincidence, I'm putting him second to a toilet in a list of meaninglessness.


3) Books

I have read 3 books in a little over a week. Oh yes. Finished completely. Three separate books. All chick lit, all from the charts in Tesco. I've started another 3 but they went the way of most books (into the later pile) on account of needing a brain. No offence to any of the books I did read, but sometimes (the week after exams) you really need to switch off and into easy reading. Three different books, but strangely all came down to the same point: appreciate what you've got.

So I have been. For all that is crap, if I changed anything at all in my past, I might not be here now with two amazing children and I wouldn't change them for any of the things I think I need.

And now I'm going to read a book entitled Bye Bye Balham, which I may read sitting on the toilet just to celebrate this list.

***I know I should be talking about Obama, Tony Hart, Patrick McGoohan and other things that matter, but I'd be a bit "what they said" which makes for unnecessity. So all noted, all thought about, words not forthcoming through no fault of their own.***

A night out for the girls...

Off for dinner in Glasgow, arrive in Glasgow to be informed that I am staying over, not going home early as planned naively by me. The arm twisting was not excessive, I may add.

Slightly unconventional way to meet someone for the very first time: do come and drink wine in our hotel room and please don't mind if our toilet attacks you.

Yes. Attacked by a toilet. A torrent of water from a burst pipe, which was threatening to drown us all until we turned it off in absence of any action whatsoever from the hotel staff.

Room was pretty much unusable due to the several inches of water and now non functioning toilet, but unfortunately the hotel was full. Negotiations extracted a promise to be moved to another hotel "just across the river" at the end of the night. So off we went for a night out, procuring a free pizza completely unconnectedly in the process and returning as agreed to get a taxi to the new hotel.

Somewhat intoxicatedly negotiating a taxi and hotel with an Ian Fleming (that's not your real name?) we ended up in a taxi going a very, very long way away and depositing us at a rather posh castle hotel. Nice, but where the hell are we? Huge rooms, huge beds, fantastic televisions that didn't work. Our original hotel was being shared by Narcotics Anonymous, this one had a wedding party, and the bonus was that I was officially added to the party despite being a new addition. The strange man in charge provided us with coffee, wedding cake and about 1000 biscuits while trying desperately to put £1 onto a credit card "just because he had to put something through". A suggestion that he should be playing his flute damned near had me ending myself.

And from there on, it was perfectly normal...