Train of birthday thoughts

My birthday's coming up, so I thought about other birthdays I've had. Quite a few, my birth certificate tells me, but I can only remember a few of them, so I should be ok...

The first one I remember is my 12th or 13th birthday (see? I can't even remember which one..). My sister was in the States as an exchange student, and called home to congratulate me. I didn't come to the phone because "I didn't know what to talk to her about"! The first and last time in my life I kept my silence...

Then I remember my 16th, I spent most of it outdoors with a couple of friends, fighting our way through the sleet (on the ground and falling from the air...), tossing the odd snowball at passers-by, and not doing anything worth mentioning, really. Why we were out there I'm not sure, but even if I weren't enjoying it particularly at the time, it's one of the few I remember...

My 18th birthday my friends came round and had cake and all, while I was hacking away one the last many pages of a dissertation that was due the next day... Oh, and they gave me a teddy bear that I've still got - that is, I donated it to the kids (super kind).

No. 23 (will this never end, you say, is she now 75? But not quite...) I had a whole lot of people over, I think everyone were having a grand time. But me. I was rushing around making sure everybody was happy, had plenty to eat and drink and generally cleaning up. Hmmrphf.

When I turned 24 my flatmate, Børge, arranged the whole party in our flat - he cooked, served, cleaned, etc. and made me look good to my friends (amongst them, Rarity). I loved him for it - still do!

At 30, my hubby managed to arrange for a surprise party - about 20 family and friends were there when I got home from town! Excellent work... And when our then 11 month old Jakob spilled all his food on my (only!) dress, I was told to open one of the parcels that contained - you guessed it! - a new dress... Was Jakob in on it all along?

Now, I'll stop right there. Never trust a woman who tells you her age, she'll tell you anything! Oh, and I'll be 37 next...

Armaedes had a list of horrible things happening to him on his every birthday! Hopefully others have had more pleasant celebrations most years...

Viking blood?

With the snow falling a few days ago, and Rarity's post on Norwegian hostile winter behaviour (and not least her commentators' reactions!), I started thinking why we're really like this. I mean - winter, who's it for?

Ok, give me a sunny, still winter's day, with around -5 C (I haven't got any idea what that'd be in F...), and bright, white snow all around, I can handle that. Sure, it's beautiful, picturesque and all that, and I know how to dress for it... But it's rarely like that, isn't it. There's Sleet, Slush, Ice and their cousin. And I loathe it. (Having to dress 5 kids to go out in it every morning has not, funnily enough, changed that attitude.)

Hey, I even grew up north of the Arctic Circle, you'd think I'd wallow in degrees below freezing point!

Admittedly, some people do. Like my cousin - she lives further north than were we grew up, and they may have snow from October to May! So where do they go for summer holidays? Their destinations vary. It's Canada (read: northernmost areas), Greenland (sic!), the Alps and other Norwegian mountains that are covered in snow all year round... But always, of course, skiing holidays. They must be "realler" Norwegians than me, who prefer a beach in Greece any day...

Can you imagine the vikings, on their way to some joyful pillaging and raping and what not, would stop because of a few snowflakes? And say, no, it's getting a tad chilly, let's go back to our cozy huts and wives and ...

There wouldn't be that many blond Irishmen around if they had, now, would it? ...

Reading and goosebumps

Yesterday I finished The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. I'd been meaning to read it since forever, and finally got 'round to it.

I read the last part on the boat going to work in the morning. There was a passage towards the end - when reading it, I got goosebumps all over! I've never experienced that when reading before. (Listening to music, that's another story, I do it all the time. I can put on a certain song or musical piece, and I know exactly when to watch the little hairs on my arms starting to lift..)

In case some of you haven't read it yet I won't say anything about the plot.. I'll just mention that I didn't think it was quite as awesome or unique as it has been made out to be.
But for the feeling it gave me for a little while - totally worth the read!

A truly, deeply, madly accurate test...

"Your subconscious mind is driven most by Kindness.

This means you have a deep desire to be kind and fair to others. You may even be preoccupied with finding kindness in the world around you, far more than you realize on a conscious level. It is possible that the underlying reason you seek kindness in the world around you, is that you fear cruelty, the opposite of kindness. That could drive you to unconsciously project kindness wherever possible into your world. Regardless of its origin, your steadfast adherence to being kind to others is felt by people you are close to. You are probably more susceptible than others to being overwhelmed by emotions — both yours and others'. It is possible that your unusually empathic nature is a result of your natural sensitivity to others' pain, and your desire to help them avoid it. For this reason, things might affect you more than they affect your friends and family. To protect yourself from too much emotional intensity, you might want to keep an eye out so you can recognize it when it starts. That will allow you to slow things down until you feel grounded again. Overall, your strong orientation towards kindness gives you an optimistic nature, which translates into you seeing the best in the people around you. Because you're not one to be overly judgmental, others may seek out your company when they need a friend to talk to. People close to you likely know that you care deeply about the inner lives of others and can listen to what they have to say without imposing your views on them.
Though your unconscious mind is driven most strongly by Kindness, there is much more to who you are at your core."

Right. Well, it must be true, such thorough questioning and all... (Actually, it's not completely off the mark. I guess I'm just easy to read.)

Thanks, Sam :)

Name dropping

Be careful what you name your child, especially if you ever travel outside your country... The following Norwegian names (and stories) are true:

My second year in England one of the other Norwegian students introduced himself as "Bent. Both ways". And he was... As was the couple Odd and Even - such a shame they broke up!

Three friends travelling together in the US were Baard, Are and Arnt. You guessed it - pronounced 'bored', 'are' and "aren't" - and noone believed them...

Njaal was also travelling. Now, his name is supposed to go something like Nyawl (with a 'ya'-sound like in yacht, and to rhyme with haul). When he travelled in South America, people really tried to pronounce his name. It would end up like 'Nord' or 'Neil' or something, but at least they gave it their best effort. When he introduced himself travelling the States, people simply said - "that's alright, we'll just call you Bob"!

So, if anyone wondered why our kids have solid Greek names (albeit also common in Norway and England), now you know!

Uh-oh

My printer / scanner / xerox / fax has ceased to be. At least for the time being. I was vacuum cleaning yesterday (see, I knew I shouldn't have been!) and at some point I bumpted into the chord to said machine and - wooops - system shutdown. Nothing.

Yes, I have tried re-connecting the chords. De- and replug everything in the vicinity. Tried searching and installing anew. Alas, nothing. And I had this really great post going on, that just needed some photos. (I can tell you're all holding your breaths. The excitement... Now - breathe! You can't take such long breathing pauses. Really, guys!)

Well, I mailed off to our computer wiz, maybe he comes up with an excellent idea. Or maybe I'll just have to buy a new chord. Probably easiest. And quickest.

At least now I've got a good reason not to vacuum clean again :)

It speaks volumes, I'm sure

I've read quite a few blogs since I started my own, and I've bloghopped by even more. And I've frequently come across posts about their own 23rd post. Apparently a vital post. Line five (or fifth sentence?), more specifically. This part is supposed to reveal something vital about the blogger in question.

So I browsed down to my 23rd post.

It has only 4 lines - 3 sentences... What does that mean, I wonder?

Early morning encounters

Every morning I take the quads to kindergarten and Jakob to school (next door). On my way from school, almost every morning, I meet the same woman. We greet. That is - we bare our teeth and grunt... Mine mean "I don't really know who you are, but I assume you work in school and therefore I ought to say something" and I suppose hers mean "since you're coming from school I probably work with your child so I'd better say something". It's ridiculous, really, but I can't seem to stop it. I'm a nice person, right? When someone says hello (grunt), so do I..

From school I take the bus 2 minutes down to the boat (I ought to walk, of course). And every morning the same woman comes running wildly, crossing the street in between traffic, a little after the bus leaves the stop. And most mornings the driver stops anyway, and lets her board. I really don't know how she can be late - by exactly that many minutes - every day?!?! When I see her like that, out of breath, hair in all directions, handbag with stuff sticking out - I really want to tell her to set her alarm five minutes earlier the next morning. But I can't do that, we're not even at grunt level, let alone talk...

It must be said, though, that by the end of the boat ride, her hair looks fine, make-up is in place, her handbag's neatly shut, she's had a coffee and looks generally awake. Thank goodness she's not taking a crowded bus or train to work!

Madonna and I

I used to think I was gay. Until I hit puberty and my body came out - a girl! I'd never noticed until then. Even though I spent more time with the girls in school than the boys, I still felt that whenever I was staring at them (i.e. the boys) I really shouldn't be... I secretly listened in on news relating to gays, because nobody had to know that was me, right?

Even at uni - obviously not the most feminine of girls (never knew what make-up was, still don't!) - people would often think I was gay. Only - they would think I was a lesbian... Until they got to know me better and found out that I really, really like boys. (Now, I'm not talking man-eating here, far from it, mostly man-watching!)

I've always wanted to be a mum, though, and now I've been blessed with five - and a gorgeous husband! - I do feel I'm on the right shelf (or whatever it's called), but I still prick up my ears when I hear the word 'gay', as if I was mentioned by name.

I guess that's one of very few things Madonna and I have in common (if she really did say this, that is!) - 'I'm a fag trapped in a girl's body'...

Look alike

Inspired by Rarity I took the test she talked about.

And I turned out to be - Yoda!

*****

A venerated sage with vast power and knowledge, you gently guide forces around you while serving as a champion of the light.

Judge me by my size, do you? And well you should not - for my ally is the Force. And a powerful ally it is. Life greets it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us, and binds us. Luminescent beings are we, not this crude matter! You must feel the Force around you, everywhere.

*****

Why, I even look like me!

3rd grade physics

Jakob's homework today was to show an adult (or more) a 'trick' from physics class this morning. And make us guess the result.

Here's how: Place a glass on a piece of paper. Then you fill it to the brim with water. And I mean to the brim! Then slowly 'insert' coins like this into the water, sideways (thin side down) into the glass. (This one's Danish, but never mind!)

How many coins can you put in before it spills?

I can say this much: I guessed 1, then 5 when laughed at... My hubby guessed 2. We were both wrong... Anyone?

I don't know that we even did physics at the age of 7 in my time...

Update: I'll post the answer in a comment, in case anyone else wishes to wager a guess. Wait, that won't work, will it? I'll post the answer under the comments of the previous post, then ;)

7 things I ought to change about me. Probably...

1. I stay up way too late, blogging
2. I get mad at my kids just for biting me or eachother
3. I don't want to be a grown-up, so I leave responsibility to my hubby (he's good at it!)
4. I buy stuff I want (if it's not TOO expensive), I don't wait to get it for Christmas
5. I genuinely enjoy pun and games, I much prefer it to sombre politics
6. I dream about taking the family to Greece for a year, even though my hubby thinks 2-3 weeks are enough
7. I skip football (= soccer!) practice to watch football on TV instead
8. I tend to extend lists to fit in whatever I want

- Now complete with the answer to next post's tricky question! Read comment.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty...

No, really, I don't..

But tonight I feel clever, makes for a nice change! The thing is, our oldest - Jakob, 7 - is fairly smart as it goes. That is, he learns quickly, he remembers everything etc. But he's not really into learning anyway, if you get my drift. He can read, but has never read a book. (Now, at his age I'd read an unaccountable number of Bobsey twins and Hardy boys books, so maybe I expect too much..) He prefers time with his Pokémon figurines to time with the likes of literary characters.

Moving on... He says school is boring because everything is too easy. But as he must stay in school for at least another 7 years, I wouldn't want him to be bored all those years. We've tried to find ways of luring him back into his preschool curiosity, but failed. Unless it's been about football (= soccer), where he knows everything about everyone. Funny that...

But the smart part is - I started a little quiz show tonight, and he was thrilled! All of a sudden he was dying to know about the capitals of the Czech republic and Liberia!

A glimpse of hope? A breakthrough? One night's glory? We'll just have to wait and see...

Monday mutterings

Ok, O'Sullivan cruised through to yesterday's final, only to be crushed by John Higgins... Oh well, if anyone was going to beat my hero, John Higgins at least is probably the most sympathetic bloke on the entire tour. (No, I never said O'Sullivan was that. I just hinted I liked him best regardless..)

And now for something completely different.

I work with a bunch of criminal lawyers. (Haha, cheap pun... Defense lawyers, of course!) Most of them are just as nice as the next man - or nicer, there's a lot of fun and generally a nice 'climate' at work. But then there's always the odd man out. Or woman. Whatever...

The thing is, this person seems not to want anything to do with non-lawyers. Us staff, or clients, even, are just a necessary evil. It seems. If our time is spent waiting - more often than not without any messages as to how long this will last - that's irrelevant. Like NN said: 'I always finish on time! Even if I start half an hour late...' But how could we know? And how can s/he know whether we might have other plans? It annoys the h#! out of me - and s/he won't really communicate with non-lawyers off work either. Even when talking about our kids / holidays / films we've seen etc. - you'd think education wasn't an issue? But yes.

I mean, I've got 6 years of university training as well, only I didn't spend them in law school. But even without this education - does working as a clerk mean I'm worth less? Wouldn't you think I was at least worth gabbing to?

A friend of mine works in this law firm too. This summer there were only four of them working - three lawyers and her. Their boss invited them over one night - the lawyers, that is - with spouses. Maybe to discuss legal matters?? Well, the next morning, her boss went on and on about how the others would be late, how much fun they'd had, etc. Yeah, rub it in, my friend thought...

But was she, perhaps, being overly sensitive? Are we both? Are we less interesting people and need to live with this attitude? I'm not saying they're not allowed to talk law with other lawyers, I just thought - you know, social talk was for everyone...

To be honest, though - most of them do talk to anyone, with ease, and even seem to enjoy it. I just had to spill my guts...

This is an ex-mouse!

My kids found this mouse in the bike shed this morning. Need I say that tears were shed? (Sorry, no pun intended!)

Consulting Jakob's mammal encyclopaedia we found out it was a common woodmouse (Apodemus sylvaticus, nice name..). We didn't need an encyclopaedia to state that it was thoroughly demised...

This, of course, called for a funeral. A proper one, granddad came over and everything! (Now, he was coming over anyway, but still...) We all sang a sweet mouse song ("Når en liten mus skal ut å gå" for those of you who speak the language!), not particularly sad, admittedly, but the only one we could think of that was about mice. And the same one we had sung when I was little and my sister's hamster died.

The day picked up later, a beautiful autumn day, it must be said! But it took some apple pie (fresh-baked by my darling hubby) to wipe those tears away...

Snooker update!

Ronnie O'Sullivan is through to the semi finals (where he'll face Barry Hawkins, easy match...)! Not that it comes as any surprise, Ronnie being the best snooker player ever (in my, truly objective, opinion - as well as other people's!) - he can do things like this with his cue.

Ah. Perfection... Sleep gets less and less interesting ;)

In for a treat?

Or 'going on hiatus - indefinitely'? Read this.

Me? I'm only at stage 2 right now. Going to throw in a few more posts before the famous towel... I hope!

I hope this is not true...

Today the Norwegian papers brought photos apparently taken by and of Polish nurses supposedly watching over prematurely born babies.

They were toying with them! They took them out of their incubators, put them in their pockets (!), all while their food probes and chords of every kind were hanging off them. Apparently they'd let the babies on respirators be...

And all of this just because they were bored on their night shift!

I remember when ours were that small. They were sooo fragile. Less than two pounds each, to begin with. The chords were attached to these kinds of machines that go 'beeeeep' in ER whenever somebody dies... Luckily, our kids' machines never went 'beeeeep'! The readings, though, always dropped drastically if their surroundings changed. If they were touched (which was mostly painful for them, however gently), if the temperature dropped by 1/4 degree etc.

Apparently these nurses are facing at least five years in prison, and apparently none of these babies actually died. But I'm still hoping it was all a sham!

Blogger's dilemma...

I bumped into Rarity the other morning. We talked a bit, about blogging also, about being visitor no. 200 000 on Nickerblog, about the official opening of the Norwegian parliament (Storting) on that very day...

Then I told her I'd found my Australian friend. 'Great' she said 'make sure to mention it on your blog!' - But oh, I had already told her about it! It wasn't news anymore...

Perhaps we shouldn't talk when we meet? Simply refer to our blogs and move on? Aaron had thoughts around this a while back, and it seems he and his commenters agreed with what Rarity and I was thinking; never mind the blog in real life - or at least, never let it kill conversation...

But do take care of your blogs at all times regardless, and know that I enjoy reading yours!

Go Google, go!

A few posts back I put in a poem by my 'old' friend Ben from Australia. Morgan asked me to google for his name (I still can't believe I hadn't already tried it! But there you go, I'm getting old..).

So I did. And I found him! And we're back on track :) These days he's not only writing poetry, he's also a painter, as you can see here.

I'm delighted!

Quote of the day (5):

- It was too dark for me to see the radiant intelligence which must have been slushing all about the man's features!

(Bertie Wooster on Jeeves, P G Wodehouse)

I must admit I don't feel radiantly anything at this hour, still I always enjoy a good Wodehouse quote!

Not only skeletons and fags...

Closets also reveal themselves by tags!

I'm honoured, I'm sure, that Rarity tagged me, but there's nothing interesting about my clothes... But lo and behold, I do own a couple of dresses!


The reason for all these clothes being squeezed in here is, naturally, that the obvious space for a bedroom wardrobe – the longest no-window wall – is this:


Say no more...

Or I will elaborate, I think.. The increased need for bookshelves never ceases, so we built our own in the staircase –

The living room already being filled to the brim ...


... But there's always room for another, right?!



The kitchen bench, that fits four kids (five, if they're bestest friends...) contains fun and games for all ages:


- Yes, Rarity, that includes TP, BackGammon and most other games you have or have not heard of...




Finally – peekaboo! Because this ...


is where I'm at right now – just look (Ikea, of course):

Fun, huh?

I guess I could have shown you the mess of shoes in a 7 person family,

my sons' Christmas outfits neatly hung,
my daughter's chest of drawers (which is actually "commode" in Norwegian, but let's not mix the two..) with her beloved doll's house on the top,

bicycle helmets high above,

or even the basic outfit for those long, wet, Scandinavian autumn nights,

But that would simply be tedious, now, wouldn't it..

Anyway ;) At least I beat Lisa to it, I think! Riannan was first, of course... And now, that I'm done with, it's my turn... I tag my new blogmate "d" - if you haven't got a digicam, I'm sure you can make a scenic description of the contents of your closets... My old friend Børge came out of the closet a long time ago, but probably keeps something in his. And Josh H – with all the time on his hands now that Josh K doesn't come home most days, here's something you can do...

Phew, this really did take quite a lot of time. Let's not repeat this till the kids are older and / or I need less sleep ;)

One little piggy...

I found this on Impassioned Mystery - it lets you test your drawing ability as well as revealing your personality through a PROFOUND test.. I don't know about the accuracy of the personality test - I turned out an emotionally naive realist with a fairly good sex life, who's a fairly good listener but likes to play the devil's advocate. Ok - I'm not going to tell you anything about the sex part... But the rest is - at best - a contradiction in terms.. But hey, there's a grand gallery of all the piglets they've had come in over the last weeks, so go ahead and enjoy!

Tagging

While I'm working on my closet tag (or whatever it's actually called), take a look at this clothes tag. It's supposed to be the real McCoy :)

Clifftop by the sea

Your soft
sensual body
folds
and curves
in the lazy silence

It is midday
And your hunger
turns to the afternoon.
A slow heartbeat
of whitewash hands,
Tender swells that roll in,
Trapped on an endless tide.

Nature is so graceful,
Your rippled shoulder
stretched so distant before me,
sleeping in the lazy sun.

No blemishes
does your blue skin show,
'cept the acne of one fishing boat,
A white spot 'pon perfect fabric.

You hide the scars
of yesterday.
The edges of your stormy wounds
left unhealed.

Whitewash fingers rub
against the rocks,
Tapping an endless tune,
A soft heartbeat
that pulsates from far below.

Death is so near me,
yet you are so warm.

19/7/92

Ben Fleming is (was?) a friend of mine from Australia. We've lost touch - literally, I've lost his address - but I've still got his poems. This one's my favourite. The photo I stole from someone's homepage, I think. But I have been there too, it's from Doolin, Ireland.

Status: hooked

My hubby just went to bed (it's 11.30 pm over here). I nodded in his general direction and muttered 'gnght' to which he answered something I didn't really hear.. If we have fallen out? No, no, by all means, I was just really engrossed in this blog I was reading. I just happened upon it and, hey, it was fun! The dishes? Yeah, will do'em. At some stage. Laundry? Already hung to dry! *beaming* Sleep? Sleep makes me very irritable...

Quote of the day (4):

- I am large. I contain multitudes.
Walt Whitman said that.

And by tonight I shall be extra large, containing lasagna...
I said that!

TGIF!

Every Friday feels like a gift...

By the way, that job I was rambling about? That I decided I wouldn't go for anyway? I didn't even get it.. So much for working myself into a state about decision-making..

Oh, and I've been tagged by Rarity. I'll see if I can do something about it over the weekend. Probably need to clean up the house a bit before I do!

And you might not know this, but EVERY Friday, my hubby and I have lasagna for supper... We've been repeating the Friday menu for almost all of our 9 1/2 married years. Got tired of thinking of some special dish every weekend, so now we've only got to think of something for Saturdays. The kids? Oh no, they're well tucked into bed before supper's ready ;)

This weekend life as we know it will be put on hold - snooker's finally back! Grand Prix in Preston, England... At least for those who a) are in Preston, or b) receive BBC and/or Eurosport. (That's the Grand Prix logo, in case anyone wondered...)

The English language

Now, don't get me wrong, I love English - I hardly ever even read books in Norwegian.. But sometimes I wonder... A typical (British, anyway) response to something like this (that I stole, of course):

- You do realise I despise you, and consider you pond scum. Well, lower actually. You're like the fungus that feeds on pond scum. No, lower. The pus that infects the mucus that cruds up the fungus that feeds on the pond scum.
- Yes, I appreciate that!

What's to appreciate...? Are we talking s & m here?
Or is this just, you know, like you say when someone has just broken their leg before their long-awaited summer holidays by the Mediterranean, and their friends remark 'how inconvenient'? And it's not inconvenient, it's f* horrible! Ok, inconvenient will suffice...

Quote of the day (3):

No relevance, I'm afraid, but one of my favourite comments in a film, ever...
In 'Arthur', his faithful, very British, very sarcastic butler Hobson (Sir John Gielgud) is excellent. And upon encountering one of Arthur's many girls - not exactly the brain of Britain -she utters 'eeerh', whereupon he replies:

- I anticipate your next syllable with great eagerness!

Such elegance..

100 % mum

Most of the time I feel an inadequate mum, at the very least.. A lot of the time, anyway.. But today I am forsaking work (hah!) and staying home with these aforementioned two - and we've just finished baking a tray of rather yummy chocolate chip cup cakes, like a real mum is supposed to! (Now, of course, it's prefab, simply add water, but still..)

Great taste, happy sons, proud mum - not bad for 15 minutes of kitcheneering!

Ecliptic struggles

I'm at home today, 'nursing' Jakob and Filip who've been coughing their little lungs out these past few days...

Which gave us the chance to see the not-quite-total eclipse of the sun this morning. Fascinating!

The struggles were in preparation, as I learned how hard wine bottles really are... Figuring coloured glass would provide the necessary protection watching the sun, I decided to break a bottle (no, it wasn't full, I'm not the one who's ill..) - and even with a rolling pin and a lot of inbuilt aggression it took quite an effort to smash it.. I did even wrap it in 3 plastic bags before breaking it. Feeling pretty smart today ;)

"Still know nothing about me"

Ok, be that as it may!

But i DO know tomorrow's Sting's birthday, and I know I love his music, so - here's to you!

Every little thing he does is magic..

Should I stay or should I go?

I went to a job interview last week... Yeah, hurray and all that. But the problem is (ok, it's a luxury problem, I know, but still..) that I don't know if I want the job, should I be offered it.

I'm really happy with were I am now. My colleagues are excellent fun, and I look forward to going there most days. My tasks are, shall we say, varied - but never outright boring. And the job's very flexible concerning taking time off to take the kids to the dentist / football practice (which Americans still think is called soccer) etc. So why change a winning team, right?

Timbuk 3 used to sing: "Fifty thou' a year Will buy a lotta beer". Now, I'm not really into beer, and we're obviously not talking dollars here, but - this new job offer involves quite a lot more money. (A lot, that is, for average people like us, not for people in that company in general!) And the tasks I'll be set to are slightly more challenging, or at least involves more of my university training than my current one.

But they're more strict about the comings and goings, dress code is way more formal (anyone who knows me knows that that does count..) and the colleagues - although outnumbering my present colleagues ten times! - can't possibly be as nice or as much fun...

All I know is, a higher salary might ease the strain on our mortgage, kindergarten bills etc. Does that make up for 8 hours of plain, boring work every day?

I think I've decided not to go anywhere. Gosh, I haven't even been offered the job, why am I rambling like this? Anyone?

I met my childhood hero!

This is me with 'Flode', from one of my favourite children tv shows way back when. And yesterday we finally met! (Ok, it's probably a new one, the other would be twenty-odd years and worn to shreads by now, but still!)

I'd invited my dad to accompany me as part of the audience for a tv show last night. Ok, it's the kind of show where you're supposed to laugh, but it's actually a lot of fun, so it's not that hard. Really! And my dad invited me out to dinner afterwards..

A hippo and a hamburger, and I'm happy...