sort of xray

here is link to an xray approximating mine. Its where the bone is broken- but not in quite the same way- mine is cracked diagonally straightish rather than zig zag
http://www.conquestchronicles.com/special/Lower_Extremity_Fractures
SO there you go. Until I get camera operational.

everyday posting

I've nothing else to do!!!! I've exhausted the delights of chatting to the plaster technicians in the hospital, (purple leg now) and the other patients, and allowing myself chips and ice cream (not both together) after 2 and a half hours in hospital (should have taken a pic of my xray on the screen using phone- but phone does not connect to computer and blah blah blah) and watching Torchwood and QI, which was in fact QB, and now I'm looking up serving trolleys for work online. I miss work. I like it. I like the people and I even like answering the phone sometimes. And clearing away sandwiches. And all the boring boring things I do but do well. Its so amazing to have a job. I just love it. I may have been in danger of forgetting that. Well I guess I can consider myself reminded.
Yeah, and it would seem I can take pictures with the eee.

no pictures, only words

The kindness of brownie knitter will shortly be keeping my toes warm- she has promised to knit me an Emergency Sock from pure wool (for warmth even when wet), in pink, with extra cashmere round the toes specially for my poorly ankle in its (hopefully) pink or purple fibreglass cast. Pictures will come when I have charged the battery for my camera. I'm moving house day after tomorrow. I think I wont be much help. I really feel for the "man with a van". He will get to know exactly how hard being that man in that van can be. I will need carrying more than the boxes... which I have not boxed up yet....Not to mention the long suffering Paul and even longer suffering Sammy.....I have become a burden to society. I'm looking up jokes even now to lighten the mood with. Perhaps I can hire a wheelchair for the day and whiz about in that. I cant help but think of all the people who are in wheelchairs forever when I consider getting one for the weekend, it seems jolly ridiculous and I feel extra lucky to have my mobility and health. And its my mobility and health I intend to keep, once I have it back.

big white wake-up call

Its not sprained. Its broken. I'm in plaster for the first time in my life. Feeling even more stupid then before and somewhat determined never ever to lose track of how much I'm drinking ever again. How about not drinking at all, is what I'm thinking, and taking it one day at a time seems to be the plan. It only drains my wallet, makes me fat and act stupidly, and now- broken bones? its a no brainer.
Possible plans for those who buy me drinks even when I don't want one include pouring it over their heads. I got this idea from someone who gave up smoking by loading several water pistols and instructing his housemates to shoot him with them, thus soaking the fag and him, if he ever lit up. It was successful! His housemates were wily and used to creep around catching him even when he was far from the house. Perhaps I should hand out some water pistols.
But anyway, how the hell did I manage to walk around on it for 2 days? Cracked fibula, I hear you say, is not weight bearing. Too right its not. Owtch.

ow

I have sprained my ankle. It hurts a lot. Chocolate, ice, painkillers, none of them work really so I'm in a sulk on the sofa playing on the eee. I'm severely unimpressed that I fell over drunk and also particularly embarrassed to admit that it happened while jumping out of the kebab shop. No dancing for me for a while. Something has got to stop here and I don't mean the kebabs. The Quakers had it right. Hot chocolate is much safer.

Easter weekend fun

After an argument about what is or isn't Art, and Damien Hirst and Marcel Duchamp compared and contrasted with Bach and Mendolhson (ok I can't spell it, so sue me) over a greasy breakfast; touring Kew in the freezing sleet/snow on the jolly little bus which was surprisingly fun, enduring arguments about Mac vs PC, homeopathy vs western medicine, where to have tea, how to warm up, and whether Henry Moore's sculpture is "crap" or not, because each actual bronze was not made by the artist himself, (merely designed and modelled by hand in miniature) ...I came to the conclusion that I must be spending the day with my family. After purchasing bargain plush Venus fly-trap toys (£1 each- with detachable plush fly) we are all watching an animated peanut instruct us on how to wobble strange white controllers in the air. Yes, the family are playing Big Brain Academy on the Wii.

I haven't laughed this much in ages!!

Just another day in the office

I was late due to needing more sleep obviously because going to bed early and not drinking any beer and doing relaxing exercises before bed and setting the alarm does not work. Was only going to be 20 minutes late until saw bus queue which was trailing up the stairs back into Waterloo station. Went to get cash to get cab. After enormous cash queue as only one machine operational and machines next to some kind of sewage outlet, found enormous taxi queue. Went back to bus queue. Saw different bus about to go and jumped on that. First piece of luck for the day- it was a Holborn bus. Battled through crowds to work and now I’m here to face some kind of seminar which is an hour earlier than usual and of course the booklets for it are not printed or bound. Phone is ringing every ten minutes (though oddly not in the last ten) and the receptionist and my line manager are off sick and on holiday respectively. Lunch has not yet been ordered for the hordes who are imminently arriving and there goes the phone again.......Just another day in the office.

massive Backblog

Right. It would appear that I have not written in this blog for an absolute yonk. I have been thinking of way to make it a bit more readable- post only in haiku, perhaps? Only in rhyme?
Neverless- Allow me to sum up the past few months, not in rhyme as yet, and probably not in reason either.
Christmas happened, the weather continued to be awful, January involved lots of work and beer and little sleep and no internet access at all except to check email at double quick speed at work, I extremely unexpectedly met the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, which confused the HELL out of me and still does, on Feb 29th I came over all romantic and asked him to marry me. What happened with the rings is another story for another day but lets just say it involved ebay.
So there you are, thats about it apart from the fact that due to the constant data struggle (no computer online etc etc) I bought an linux based ubercool sub notebook called an Asus eee pc in the hope of better comms in general and what is prompting me to post today is......
long story....

I cut up all my credit cards, yeah, to get in Control of my money. And to pay back Mr Sir D's utter kindness, and the tax, and all of that griff.
I have realised that although debt is a part of life, uncontrolled and spiralling debt is like a creeping disease. Ok, so you say, so what did you do then?
Well, I've become a huge fan of moneysavingexpert.com and I have changed my bank account to the best new one, easily managed online with no offshore call centres. I have begun to save. I have put everything I spend into a spreadsheet on my darling new computer. I have further resolved to stay in touch with my friends more, etc, having freed up a part of my mind which I now realise was set aside purely for worrying.
Brilliant! I hear you say. But no....no, why oh why would anything AT ALL be simple in the world of computers. The bank's website is not compatible with my beloved FireFox, pre installed on the supercool gadget I'm at present typing on. Aha! I thought to go get IE tab. But no, it is not available for linux. I rest my case ladies and gents, lifes just too complicated for me to be dealing with. I'm going to re-install myself in bed under a simple duvet-fleece interface with a large warmth protocol on the highest setting. No password required- simply get straight in.

"X"mas and Spreadsheets, and Chocolate loyalty cards

Not a promising blogtitle. Nevertheless, I will press on because my blog was never designed to be interesting or notworthy, its just a blog.
I'm about to be in full Christmas mode- surrounded by innumerable new clothes and a leaning tower of dirty washing, (who knew!) I am nonetheless happy in my tiny pad, which now has a tiny Christmas tree, and my tiny sofa is covered with tiny gifts, some are even wrapped!!!
My New Years resolution is but one: keep track of my finances.
Yes, and do some washing.
Montezuma's chocolate makers have just opened up a shop in Spitalfields. I bought the whole shop.... truffles, bars and bars of their delicious dark chocolates in dozens of varieties.... Chilli, Single Estate, Geranium and Orange, and Snowman Shapes. yum yum. And, joy of joys, they have a loyalty card!!! I have two stamps. not one, but two!! I was about to leave when they told me that a large selection of their truffles are vegan......
:)
I get the feeling a new year resolution regarding the fat deposits on my body from chocolate consumption may well be added to the list....!

Triple duvet delight tempered by utter launderette absence.

In my miniscule shoebox with sink and bed I now have 3 duvets. Stars on the ceiling. A functioning shower. A feeling that all the Spare Stuff is about to be taken away (thankyou Freecycle). The only problem is: no washing machine. The "nearest" launderette is nowhere near. It is about 3 miles by bus, and in no way convenient. All three of the ones which my landlady remembered have closed/become dry cleaners.
And "Independence" to me, does NOT mean taking my sodding laundry to a selection of friends, or, my parents to do. And handwashing is just not on. I'm left with four options:

1. Trek to launderette (think positive: there might be Good Shops too)
2. Use launderette near work (Is there one?)
3. Continue to use friends and family's machines at risk of total embarrassment for nuisance/freeloading (no pun intended)
4. Buy new clothes each week from Primark and give them to charity/sell on ebay ("worn once only")

House poem

THE HOUSES WE LEAVE

The houses we leave still need us.

Pantries, porticoes.

Those transoms float

vagrant plans, hopes.

It's only in our dreams they are

planed, hinged, mortared.

Eaves, joints sprouting

if we'll just bring

shingles to them. The Czech crystal:

each bulb dangles

lonely, lightless,

old without us.

Lonely, lightweight, old without us,

newsprint fusses

in the basement,

kindergarten

papers refuse to stay in their bins.

Who can pretend

sump pumps still know

what to do? Stowed

trashbags from breakups unable

to sleep. Gables

dream us back, brass

keys in our grasp.

Janice Moore Fuller from Séance (Iris Press, Tennesssee, 2007)

Lost

I feel like Dr Who. Lost in time and space. The only one left.
Me and Mr Sir D, despite his consummate spider throwing skills, have parted ways. I'm in a kind of painful confused limbo.
When my alarm went off yesterday, I dozed, and each time I opened my eyes I expected to be in a different bed- My old room from childhood- Greenford-Stratford-Manchester- when I opened my eyes each time I didn't know what to look for. I was, in fact, in Stratford, under double size duvet and cow print fleece in my single bed single room- my matchbox refuge from a world so hard to understand that only the alarm and the job keeps me going, repeating things, routine, get up, work, drink, bed. Repeat. Add friends and therapy and dancing and tiring late nights and long concerned telephone calls and there you have it. Life, the Universe and Everything.
If only I never had to actually come out from under the duvet than surely all my problems would go away? Can one be paid to sleep all day?

Invasion of the Macro Spiders! warning! spider pics!

Inspired by macro pictures in the lovely badger's blog, and by missed picture opportunities (even when in sweaty fear) in Stray's.......when I saw this enormo arachnid lurking behind my front door I had to take a picture of it despite my revulsion. My digital camera, an Ixus 500, is really rather good at macro shots..... even when the owner of the camera is shaking and jumping away at the last minute. The spider didn't even blink (well I assume it didn't...do spiders blink?) and didn't move a muscle when the flash went off. I was practically halfway back up the stairs again however. To get good macro you have to be CLOSE. Bluuurgh.
The Mr Sir D arrived and shooed it out. Phew.

Biking!

You Won eBay Item: Raleigh Impulse racing bike !! (all in working order)
I went to collect the bike in Oval and the guy was LOVELY! He adjusted the saddle height and gave me a cycling map of London. Ebay's Feedback does not have enought space for how lovely a guy he was. Then I cycled from Oval to Plumstead (ow) to attend the Wiccaning (baby naming) of the newest addition to my massive extended family of friends, Lily McCavern Dodds. Oak leaf wine is weird but nice!
picture later.

MY Bicycle!

This is going to me MY bicycle. I'm bidding on it on ebay. I love it already. It ends in 9 hours. Oh the tension!! It has those drop handle sexy bars. It is not black and it does not have a stupid basket.

Its my reward for managing to not drink loads of booze every single night this week. I overdid it Thursday (see previous post) but I loved the thisisnotabar thing anyway and I've done really well all the other nights. I'm going swimming now too. Every week. HONEST.

I AM healthy. (repeat to self each minute)
mmmm. Chocolate.
D'oh!

Today at 2:17am and at 7am

Don't ask me why, but I drank a bottle of pink wine, an espresso martini* and two cans of dodgy lager, the latter along with some incredibly cool people in a "This is not a bar" type smoking law loophole "Gallery": a tiny dark room full of art all lit with candles in Shoreditch.

God I feel terrible. Even though I had a big bacon and egg bap, slept through my lunch hour and drank a pot of office filter coffee the size of my head. Can't wait to climb back into bed!!! having scraped the white candlewax off my black dry clean only jacket, and cleaned the nasty little spots of god knows what off my shoes of course.

*Its a double espresso, shaken with gin vodka and martini over ice before being poured into a wanky looking glass and garnished with 3 coffee beans. They're £6.50 and I didn't order it! I asked for beer. It was way too late after that for any type of going back and I wasn't vastly surprised to wake up on my mate Paul's sofa......

But at least I did get to play with the cutest baby in the world between 7 and 8am.....

Pinny

I've been busy. The constant drizzle, and the widely varied bowel diseases that the dogs up and down my road like to exhibit copiously on my morning walk to the station are getting me down enough to blog about it. And, since when did my leisure wear of choice become a yellow pinny? It was my Grandma's pinny so it has Grandma-magic in it (when I put it on I tidy like a whirlwind).

I see myself, however, as more of a silk-pyjama and slippers girl in my "resting" hours; or, in sweatpants, energetically jogging, swimming and/or playing wii. Reality dictates mundane, more drab tasks.

The heaps of clothes I own are starting to tower over me with terrifying regularity. How can one person use so many dishes? wear so many..... pants? since when did 5 days of living mean two solid days of cleaning tidying and washing? I have lost track of all those craft activities I meant to do: this year will once more be devoid of hand made Christmas cards: my friend's birthdays slip by unnoticed: jewellery lies unrepaired, ideas, once sparkling, are gathering dust, and my artistic tendencies are becoming as scrawny and dry as the broccoli I attempted to grow.

Darkness gathers: the damp roads and houses of London are huddling together as winter approaches early. My duvet beckons......though it probably needs cleaning, too.

Poisoned (but not by Poofter Pete) or: What its like to be allergic to food.

After years of assuring people that my carefully controlled allergies and my strict diet are real, I have actually had an allergic reaction to something. I feel so steamrollered that I have been asleep on the sofa for the past hour. It feels a lot more real to me now. I was on the way home from a stonking weeked with brumcunian; I mean, wow. and what a cat. what taste in films! great sofa and better clothes than me, dammit. I had already accidentally eaten something rather milk-related and suffered almost no reaction whatever, the day before I ended up rushing to A&E in Watford, about 4 minutes after having a single bite of this flapjack. Not in a restaurant, in my home, on the street or in a shop. Or anywhere near safety. On a train.

There was no way I was risking keeling over with anaphalactic shock on a moving train miles from anywhere so, blessed with magical Fiona Luck as always, 2 minutes after I realised that taking an antihistamine just wasn't going to cut it this time, the train had just come into Watford. I calmly pocketed the flapjack and my EpiPen where I could find them both. I made a move and got a cab to A&E right where I happened to be. My throat was burning, my lips and neck were swelling, and I was losing my concentration. Everything was in slow motion, and crystal clear. I was finding it hard to talk as I uttered the immortal words no cabbie ever wants to hear: "take me to the nearest hospital".

I got lucky: sat in A&E feeling like a prize melon, my airways failed to become constricted, the swelling subsided and I was sent home having had steroids and antihistamines because there was no need for resuscitation. I went to hospital because I honestly thought that there would be. I had every single sympton of impending shock. I threw up twice, reacting inside my mouth to whatever evil substance it was, all over again as it was on the way out. Lovely. I puffed up like Marshmallow Man and my neck started to itch. I threw up the steroids they gave me (Tip: never search for tiny white pills in a cardboard bowl of vomit: it makes you look certifiable)

Then Mr Sir D came and collected me in the ultimate mercy mission. I threw up the second lot of steroids, narrowly missing the Car. Then another delayed reaction and woke me at 4am in my own bed covered in excruciating nettle rash. With no strength left to get to the Piriton, just rode it out and scratched until dreaming of cheese graters and emery boards, which is what it feels like I've been swallowing for the past week. Today, my ultimate hero Sir D has made home made bread, soup and plain rice for me, (so I know EXACTLY whats in it) and I even managed to write a wicked sweet potato soup recipe as the ultimate recovery soup.

Good things come to those who wait. And to those who act quickly. Thank you MedicAlert and thankyou Anaphalaxis Campaign. I would never have made it back to Purple Drak Plaza without you :) I now have to write to Virgin and Jack Cakes etc, after much much more sleep.

May Day

May Day was on May 1st obviously. But I've been so exhausted by all this morris dancing that I haven't had a chance to blog. So here I am, should be in bed, blogging about MayDay. It was a very sunny day (unlike the rest of May) and here is the New Esperance Morris Traditional May Day milkmaids Garland crossing the road in Camden. I thought it was a great picture of tradition and a modern city, etc etc. More coming soon!

Enormous Spiders

I found this spider in my garden and thought it was huge. But no, no, an even larger one was lying in wait for me this morning in the bathroom. It was not stripy but it was big enough to talk. And jet black, so large you could easily distinguish its thorax from its abdomen, and its jaws, and boy, those legs!!!! It is the second spider (I'm shivering as I write this) that I've found in my bathroom this weekend. I think they are trying to steal my easter eggs. Mr D had just left... and I'm ashamed to say that I came over all girlie and unable to cope with the sheer size of the thing (I mean, what if it's LEGS didn't fit into the catching implement? what if one fell OFF?) and I rang him on his mobile to ask him to come and get rid of it for me. Mr Sir D used to keep a spider in one house, in his bathroom, you see, called Shelob. It was so enormous that it ensured the complete privacy of the bathroom to Sir himself. He is not afraid of spiders. But I am. Yes I am!