Friday, February 27, 2004


Popped into @sd@ (don't know why I'm doing that, but Billy does it, so it must be right...) last night on my way home from work to pick up salad, halloumi and a packet of wraps. As you do. Or not as the case may be...

Anyway, I'd been talking to the BF about jumpers the previous evening. I decided I wanted to buy him a new one. Whilst in @sd@, I thought I'd wander into the "George" section to have a look and see if they had any jumpers. I found one which was reduced from £16 to £8. To be honest, I would have happily paid £16 for it, so was well happy with my £8 bargain.

I traipsed off to get the other items on my shopping list, arrived at the checkouts, Switch Card poised, as the checkout assistant scanned my items. When she scanned the jumper, I looked at the display to check that the price had fed through correctly. Well it hadn't. The price showing was £1 (yes readers, that's one pound, sterling!). The checkout girl noticed too and shrugged: "I guess it's only a pound now". The piece of cheese I had bought was more expensive than the jumper!

Now, is that the biggest bargain in the world or what?

Here is BF modelling the garment in question (and making a bonus silly face too!):

I'm off to see if they've got any more in stock....

Meanwhile, on my other moblog, experience the snowy scene outside my bedroom window this morning... (Tilesey, eyes left, you can see it on the sidebar)...

It's my last day, and I'm still busy - but I was down the pub for 2 hours.... what are they going to do, sack me?

Thursday, February 26, 2004

Some “banes” of Witho’s life

“Dry clean only”

The words I dread to see in a garment. Particularly in a garment I love. My two favourite pairs of work trousers are “dry clean only”, as is my work skirt. Now, this is all very well, but I want more information. I want to understand why it has been decreed that this garment of mine will not tolerate water. Why must it be doused in noxious chemicals rather than bathed lovingly in soft soap suds and rinsed in cooling, refreshing water. I know which I’d prefer. Why must I pay the princely sum of £4.50 per garment to have it cleaned in this mysterious way? What I want to know is, what will happen if I do dare to put it in the washing machine?

Once, the need to know overcame me. I had a beautiful pair flared trousers which were actually long enough for me (being 5ft10, it’s always a novelty and a pleasure to find trousers which are long enough…). Long enough, that is, until I decided to defy the washing instructions… Now, had this happened in the mid-eighties, I could have got away with this new pair of pedal-pushers I had spawned due to my “devil-may-care” attitude, but ah no, this was the early nineties - full length trousers were de rigueur, there was no place for “jack-ups”* in the nineties…

So what I’m saying is this:
Don’t just tell me to “Dry Clean Only”. Tell me what will happen if I don’t. Then I can make an informed decision about whether or not to risk the clear and present danger of the washing machine…

Weather Forecasts

The only factual programming where the presenter is allowed - nay encouraged - to give their opinion.

“I’m afraid it’s not going to be very nice today” - hang on, surely that’s for me to decide! I might like trudging about in torrential rain and a force 10 gale for all you know!

“It’s going to be a glorious day today, with temperatures soaring to 35 degrees Celsius” - look, if I wanted 35 degrees Celsius, I’d have booked a cheap package holiday to Benidorm. But I live in England, I do not expect this kind of heat. Don’t assume I like it!

Another thing I find with weather forecasts is that they bombard me with so many facts and figures, I get to the end of the forecast and still don’t know whether to wear a jumper, scarf, snow shoes, wellies or a bikini. Or all of the above.

Simplification is what’s needed. Give me the facts. The temperature (including any relevant “wind chill factor”) and the likelihood of precipitation. That’s about all I need to know really. Don’t give me your opinion, Mr Weather Forecaster, because it’s just not relevant.

Blimey, I do go on, don’t I? It helps that I’m not at work, constantly flicking between “work” screen and “blog” screen in case of prying eyes…

*slang for trousers which are too short. Me and my entourage used to adopt this nomenclature, but I have yet to find anyone else who knows of it… Any east Londoners out there who’ve used it or heard of it?

Would that I were....

Clean up that room now! You're Monica Gellar, the
perfectionist. You like to cook and keep things

Which Friends Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

The final countdown....

Whoah! Back to back meetings today, barely a moment to myself. It's my penultimate day, and I appear to be in demand!

Saw Double Indemnity last night at the arthouse cinema, then ate Morrocan food. Not the best lamb tagine I've ever had, but pretty good, nice décor and a nice atmosphere. The restaurant was surprisingly full for a Wednesday night...

I'm selling my flat - in just under 4 years, its value has increased by 91.5% - not a bad return on my investment!

*watches as previously uninterested people flock to become la Witho's bestest friend*

Tuesday, February 24, 2004

Hurrah for the Big Fella!

As my regular readers will know, both the Big Fella and m'good self have been looking for new jobs. He, because he wants out of the dirt and grime of London to somewhere more tranquil, where property is more affordable and the air is fresher. Me, because I've reached a career crossroads and am looking for a completely new direction (although I haven't actually pinpointed that direction and will be out of work by the end of the week...eek!)

Anyway, after the initial disappointment of not being shortlisted for his "dream" job in Dorset (and, to add insult to injury, they haven't even acknowledged his request for feedback - how rude?), Biggy has an interview for a school in Somerset next Tuesday!

Meanwhile, Biggy now has a camera phone and we are discovering the novelty of sending each other photo messages. Naughty photo messages. Oh yes.

Naughty Witho!

Monday, February 23, 2004


In continuation of the "Body Parts" photo series, La Witho presents her thumb:

Yes, dear readers, I'm afraid to announce that La Witho is a freak. For reasons best known to... erm... well no-one, La Witho is excessively bendy, as illustrated by the stupid bendy-backedness of the above depicted thumb. Bendiness is (fortunately or unfortunately, depending on which way you look at it) not confined to the thumbular nodes, ah no. The index fingers of the protagonist have been known to achieve an impressive backward arc, whilst the top "phalange" of the ring fingers can be bent over independently of the rest of the fingers... Aside from this, La Witho can place her palm flat on a table and allow the fingers to almost achieve perpendicularity (if such a word exists - I dearly hope it does, it's a beauty!). La Witho is perfectly comfortable seated cross-legged and can raise the leg back over the head. I'll leave you to imagine the advantages or disadvantages of this so-called "skill"...

I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I thought you should know
The End

No time for blog, Doctor Jones...

... other than to say that Swiss Tony, a man of few words in the Blogniverse, is back at [insert company name], starting today!

And it's my last week!

And I've got work to do!

Saturday, February 21, 2004

Yes, Witho, but is it art?

Since Fluffy has been displaying her artistic talents in the blogular environment, I thought I would do the same.

A year or so ago, I found a bit of old wire mesh in my toolbox (leave it!) and decided to mould it into an evil face one evening (as you do...). This is the result... Witho proudly presents: Mesh Man

Friday, February 20, 2004

Big Foot

The Big Fella felt left out in the "picture of feet in bath" stakes, and demanded that I take a photo of his. I tried to explain that Ray probably won't like them, as they haven't got pink/red nail varnish, but he insisted nonetheless:

Note: absence of bubbles - he is a boy after all...

Witho, you dipstick!

I do worry about my short term memory... Last evening, I had two cases of "dipstickerie" within about a 5 minute timeframe. Picture the scene.

Example 1:

Witho is walking along the platform at Charing Cross station, having just been to her interview with a recruitment consultant (which went very well, thanks for asking!). She decides to phone the Big Fella, who had said he would meet her at the station the other end. She phones him on the landline at home (take note):

Me: Bla bla bla Charing Cross gibber gibber 18:31 bla bla bla
He: Bla bla Okay, will leave now gibber gibber
Me: Gibber gibber Are you still at school?
He: Witho, you've just called me on the home phone love, what are you chatting about?
Me: Er, good point, well made....
He: See you at the station, you donut!
Me: (selection of generic terms of endearment)
He: (selection of generic terms of endearment)

Example 2:

Witho boards the train (after having to ask someone if this was the right train due to total lack of information once on the platform - Witho is always paranoid about getting on the wrong train...) and takes her seat. She decides to take her mobile out of her bag and put it in her coat pocket, as it's easier to feel it vibrating when it's in her pocket and the BF might phone or text.

Seconds later:

Thinks: I'll just check my phone.
*rummages in bag*
Thinks: OMG! My phone's disappeared, where can it be?
*realises it's in her coat pocket where she put it a few seconds ago*


Forgot to mention - it's my last day at the London office today! Next week, I'll be back in the "bosom" of the Southampton Head Office as a fitting end to my current career... (eeek, that sounds final - but I suppose it is....)


Thursday, February 19, 2004


Last night, we went to see Air at the Brixton Academy - one of my Christmas pressies from the Big Fella. Air gigs are weird, man. I went to one a couple of years in Southampton. It's not like a gig at all - it's like an over-sized living room, with people sitting around smoking (both regular and wacky baccy), drinking beer, chatting, with some cool music in the background. You don't get that intense atmosphere that you get at some gigs, it's all very chilled. There were a couple of moments where people were getting excited ("Kelly watch the stars" and "Sexy Boy", surprisingly enough) but other than that, a subdued affair. I enjoyed the music, but the walk through Brixton scared me sh*tless - I think I've been away from London too long. Got a bit panicky on the bus home last night too - rowdy teenagers, not doing anything other than being rowdy teenagers, but still managing to make me feel uncomfortable and intimidated. I'm so pathetic sometimes. A big strapping girl like me getting herself in a right "two 'n' eight" (that's "state" for the non-Cockney readers out there - and one of the few Cockney rhyming slang expressions where you do say the second bit, Ray).

So, that was Air. They were supported by Joy Zipper (yes BF, looked it up, it wasn't Joy Zephyr) who I thought were really quite good. Nice keyboards, a bit Gomez-y, cool!

"Lack of job" news

I got my P45 today... haven't seen one of those for a long time! But I've also got this interview with the agency after work tonight, so hoping that they will find me something reasonable to be doing in the meantime, while I come up with my master plan....

Well, it's taken me 2 hours to go through my emails, blogroll and write a post. Maybe it's time to do some work now...

Wednesday, February 18, 2004

Further news

Oh dear. My spies tell me that there have been emails being sent around the department about my leaving. This means that there is a card, and there may be presents. This, in turn, means that they want to do a "presentation" on my last day (next Friday) - probably at 3pm if my experience of other people leaving is anything to go by...

I don't think I could bear it. I wonder if they'll let me go without doing it?

I can't think of anyone who's left without having one... I'm scared...

They're all at it these days....

From today's Guardian:

Must do better

Are you a high-earning, high-achieving executive - but with a nagging feeling that you should be doing something more useful with your life? How about teaching? What is it about the classroom, asks Stuart Jeffries, that attracts guilty professionals looking for spiritual fulfilment?

Read the whole article

That's me, that is.... well, if you replace "high-earning, high-achieving executive" with "reasonable salaried corporate drone" it would be...

Naked news

Oh, and here's a photo of me in the bath - I was completely naked when I took the photo....

(heh heh heh)

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Lacking in inspiration

And another thing...

Why is it that you always get an itchy nose when your hand is immersed in soapy water of one kind or another? (e.g. washing up bowl or bath). Any attempts to scratch it with the lather-ridden hand will apply a globule of slow-dissolving foam which only serves to increase both the size and intensity of the itchiness. Asking a friend or partner to perform the scratching can result in injury if they apply too much pressure, or a tickling sensation if they apply too little.

BF is a nutjob

Yesterday, BF rediscovered (as he does every couple of weeks) his little tin of chocolate sardines (no, that's *not* a euphemism) - one of the many Christmas presents bestowed upon him by his belov'd Witho (or "me" as she's otherwise known...). He decided that the sardines would make ideal edible spoons for eating a Petit Filou (the chocolatey ones). So, there we sat, each eating a Petit Filou with a chocolate sardine. It's a worry, it really is...

Monday, February 16, 2004

Monday Monday

Good morning Vietnam! (Where "Vietnam" = "all you loverley bloggers" - a simple algebraic substitution, I think you'll agree).

God, I'm a weirdo...

Anyway, this is the commencement of my final week working from the London Office. The final week of miserable commuting into the miserable city on miserable trains with other miserable commuters. My colleagues at this office think I'm a nutjob (which isn't far from the truth, but for quite different reasons...). I turned up here a few weeks ago, and now I'm off again! What am I like? (Answer: you're like someone who didn't like their job anyway, and liked it even less when it involved doing it in the City of London. See, it's quite simple really...). My final week working for [company name] will be spent at the Southampton office which suits [the company] and suits me too as I can spend it with my "nice" colleagues and friends and, because it's half term, the Big Fella can come down with me! Hurrah!

This week I've got an interview with a recruitment agency to whom I sent my cv. I'll be looking for a "local" job for "local" people so that I don't have to commute. I'm not that bothered what I do. Anything's an improvement on this. But since I have experience in secretarial work, I imagine it will be something along those lines.

The Weekend

BF job news

The BF wasn't shortlisted for his "dream" (ish) job and is trying to find out why for future reference. Meanwhile, he's spotted another job at a school where the deputy head is his old sixth form tutor and Latin teacher, so he had a long chat with him about the post and is applying for it, probably, as we speak!

Sitemeter news

It was only a few weeks ago that my sitemeter reached 3,000 and it's already pushing 5,000! All the craziness of the past few weeks has obviously taken its (positive) toll on Dear Witho.

As usual, if you're the 5,000th visitor, please leave a comment and a link to your blog (if you've got one).

I've been trying to change my sitemeter code from the HTML version to javascript so that I can see referrals properly but when I do this, the sitemeter disappears altogether! Anyone know what I'm (doubtless) doing wrong? Yes, I know I work in IT, but not *this* sort of IT!

Shameless pilfering

Ian, over at Simeworld, asked the question "If your blog were a TV programme, what would it be?"

So, dear readers, how do you see Dear Witho? Is it the QVC of blogdom? The "Footballers' wives"? The "Richard and Judy"? Or is it the "Louis Theroux's Weird Weekends" (oh, would that it were!)

Come on, let me have your suggestions!

Friday, February 13, 2004

Tips of the day

Dear Witho

  1. You know dressing gowns? Well, they aren't just decorative "accessories", they are actually useful garments for covering the naked body in an "around the house" sort of way, particularly in the morning as you go about your daily routine. I would suggest that carrying the dressing gown from bedroom to bathroom via kitchen, whilst remaining naked as the day you were born, is a thoroughly redundant activity.

  2. You know when you're listening to your MP3 player and you want to know the name of the track you're listening to? Well, I find, a useful way of finding out is to look at the screen on the MP3 player, which provides title, artist and name of mix (if applicable). Whilst your mobile telephone is undoubtedly a useful accessory, looking at its screen for this information can only lead to disappointment, since it will only yield the time, the words "Unlock" and "O2 UK", some bars to indicate reception and battery power, and a low quality (yet sweet) photo of the big fella in the background.

I hope you will find these tips useful as you go about your daily activities

Love Witho

Thursday, February 12, 2004

On a lighter note...

Copying the lovely Fluff on her "About me" page, here are the Googlisms for Witho:

witho is off on holiday again
witho is using compared to the ones i have access to
witho is that?
witho is the town avon lady
witho is new

Though most of these *are* probably comments made about me on various blogs in the blogniverse

There are plenty for the big fella though:

the big fella is rated to 20
the big fella is nearing a decision
the big fella is available as carbonated
the big fella is the one to watch out
the big fella is really putting in the big
the big fella is just one of us now
the big fella is good to go
the big fella is on a roll
the big fella is not quite done
the big fella is
the big fella is at it again
the big fella is perfect
the big fella is in
the big fella is a proud fella
the big fella is larger than life
the big fella is going to retire
the big fella is not included in preseason valpo high media material
the big fella is not talking about his decision but his non verbal behavior is singing out his choice
the big fella is ready in april i don't care
the big fella is a heartwarming story off the court
the big fella is back
the big fella is the main attraction here
the big fella is almost here
the big fella is also working on his stealth
the big fella is causing me to eat my words after some
the big fella is interested
the big fella is buried and the royal shakespeare company theatre
the big fella is liable to asking himself
the big fella is looking rather torpid
the big fella is making a return?
the big fella is a proud italian
the big fella is doing very well
the big fella is sitting down in front of his locker
the big fella is only missing
the big fella is too helpful for his own good
the big fella is not a fan of camp and early season games
the big fella is released
the big fella is little more than a trojan horse
the big fella is gone
the big fella is the following gem
the big fella is only acting in our best interests
the big fella is doing everything in his power to guarantee us a fair shake
the big fella is finding form again
the big fella is going to be out with surgery
the big fella is all that the scrotes represent
the big fella is thinking
the big fella is in hospital in glasgow
the big fella is on the floor for us
the big fella is a film with hollywood star kurt russell
the big fella is to star in a movie about a man who is locked up for 27 years for a crime he did not commit
the big fella is hurt and bored
the big fella is nervous
the big fella is sweet
the big fella is coming through
the big fella is on the floor
the big fella is named pooch
the big fella is going to prove nothing this year except that he is big
the big fella is just a big bore
the big fella is pretty damned good at what he does
the big fella is rated to 20º f/
the big fella is the best
the big fella is absolutely stoked
the big fella is a line
the big fella is called recon
the big fella is also only a couple of zaks away from 50 career zaks
the big fella is completely unrecognizable
the big fella is a man among boys
the big fella is hurt
the big fella is going to be pretty cool

Hours of fun...

Bad news

Just heard that my aunt's cancer is back
She is very ill
She's only in her 50s

My mum died of cancer
My dad died of cancer

There, I said it

I am scared
I'm no good at dealing with illness - whether it's mine or other people's
I hate going to the doctor because I think they might tell me there's something wrong
I'd rather not know
I'd rather just die one day and not have to know what's happening

Am in two minds whether to post this or not
But this is my blog, and these are my thoughts, so I will

Wednesday, February 11, 2004

Half a year onwards....

Six months ago:

Me: Fancy a shag love?
He: Yee-hah!


Me: Happy anniversary babe!

With you in my garden
it's more peaceful inside
I don’t need anything else
to make me feel alive

You electrify me
And I want to be in your arms
for always
for always

Swollen, by Bent

Tuesday, February 10, 2004


La Witho was feeling flaky last night and the tea, sympathy and cuddles offered by the BF only served to fuel the flames of the crying cycle (as previously discussed on Dear Witho). I think it's a combination of the following:

I don't think it's really surprising that I'm feeling a bit unsettled. In the past few months, my life has been completely transformed. I've moved out of my home and into the BF's, I've resigned from my job and started to question my entire career, I've become a "coupledom" after years of being single and living alone. All these changes are for the better in the long run, but I suppose it's like that inbetween bit when you're growing your hair long and it looks a bit shite for a while. That's the best analogy I can come up with.

Better go before the flakiness starts again - I can feel it coming...

Monday, February 09, 2004

The weekend in pictures

Saturday, these:

Sunday, this:

Monday, this:

And in the style of a child Billy:

This weekend I went to a party in Southampton and it was nice and I saw my friends and we had a nice time and I had some food and I had some drink and I stayed up very late and it was nice and on Saturday a man came round and he said this is a nice flat and I can find some nice people to live here and they will give you this much money and I will take some of that money but not a lot of it but you need to change the carpet and then I took all my plastic bottles and glass bottles and tins and paper and cardboard to a special place where a nice man will come and turn them into something else and then I came home and then I went to a shop where you can buy new trainers and they said what sort of trainers do you want and I said I want some running shoes and they waggled my feet around and made me stand up and sit down and walk up and down to see if my feet were funny or not and then they told me to try on lots of shoes and run up and down the road and I had to say if they were comfy or not and some of them were comfy and some of them were not and then I decided which ones I wanted and they were very nice and I had to give them a plastic card and sign on a dotted line and they gave me the shoes it was really exciting and then I went to see my brother who has a new house and I saw my sister-in-law and my nephew and it was very nice and we had pasta and we went to the pub and then the next day we went to a duck pond and then we went to an antiques fair but everyone was a bit posh and then we went for a pizza and then I drove to a petrol station and the Big Fella was there and he got in the car and then we went home and went to bed and did special cuddling and it was nice.

I think that just about covers the facts

Saturday, February 07, 2004

Now playing...

... on my MP3 player:

Carte Blanche - Veracocha

I think I've become obsessed with it. I was listening to my MP3 player on the train on the way home from work, and I hadn't really listened to this track before, as it was on the second CD of a euphoric compilation which I generally tended to neglect. But I had to listen to this track 3 times on the train, I was lovin' it so much... and I've listened to it twice again this morning. Now, I'm no expert on music of this kind, so forgive me if I'm not using the right jargon, but I love the way there are multiple layers to the tune, the way all the layers build upon eachother and then break down again to a bare melody before exploding in a climactic crescendo. I just love it, man!

*listens to track again*

Friday, February 06, 2004



La Witho doesn't like wastage.

Just outside Cannon Street station, there is an M&S Simply Food store. Does exactly what it says on the tin - no non-food products here, no sir-eee! I've checked! Once I needed a packet of tissues, but could I get any? Could I 'eck as like...

La Witho frequents this establishment to purchase "for-consumption-at-work" comestibles on a regular basis, examples being fruit, biscuits, sandwiches, salads etc.

La Witho has noticed the following phrase emblazoned on a carrier bag from this very establishment:

La Witho has also noted that, far from encouraging customers to obey the advice printed thereupon, the establishment actively promotes the use of a brand new carrier bag for each transaction, with cashiers waiting, bags akimbo, for the next unsuspecting customer. In fact, when La Witho states to the cashier that she does not require a bag, the cashier eyes her with what can only be described as stupefaction.

Now, La Witho is no mathematician, but if you imagine the number of people passing through that establishment every day to purchase one sandwich, each sandwich being wrapped in a fresh sachet of plastic, only for that bag to be thrown almost immediately into the nearest bin while the sandwich buyer swiftly consumes its bounty, then you imagine the number of such establishments within the City of London, the country, the world... well, I can only imagine that literally... erm ... lots of bags get wasted every day....

So there


Dear Raisins, sultanas and similar dried fruit products

When I'm dipping my Cinnamon Swirl into my coffee, please do not take the opportunity to nose-dive into the coffee. I do *not* like to find "items" lurking in the bottom of my cup, thank you very much.

I realise that it's my own bloody fault for dipping it in the first place, but still....

Love Witho

I went to see the film "American Splendor [sic]" when I was in Southampton the other day (I miss you, Harbour Lights cinema *sniff*). I really enjoyed it. An interesting mix of film, animation and documentary. Would like to get a copy of the comic book on which it's based actually as I reckon it would be really funny. Miserable bloke rants about the tedium of every day life. Hmmm, sounds a bit like my blog. Except for the bloke bit (although Fluffy seems to think I might be a bloke masquerading as a woman!).

Anyway, I digress. Today is Friday! Which means that I forego my daily bowl of porridge (oh, the scintillating life you lead Witho!) and treat myself to a nice cakey with my coffee (the aforementioned Cinnamon Swirl). The man in the coffee shop knows my order off by heart now.... I'm off to Southampton again tonight, for another friend's party, while the BF is off down to Bristol to see some of *his* mates for a lad's weekend of nerdy computer games, takeaway food and beer. I've got a Letting Agent coming round to my flat to assess its rentability on Saturday, then it's off to see my brother who has just moved house...

Another busy weekend in Withoville...

Thursday, February 05, 2004

Witho's factoid of the day

I'm sitting here eating my "melon medley" (an as-yet unconfirmed combination of what appears to be Galia, Canteloupe and Watermelon) and I remembered one of my useless French facts (of which there are many lodged inside my addled brain...) which I thought I'd share with you - WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, ALRIGHT? (said with tightly drawn lips and husky Phil Mitchell-esque cockney accent)

Now, over here we think of a watermelon as a type of melon - albeit a watery one. So there I was in France, eating my watermelon, and said to my French companions (in French): "This melon is really nice!" The guffawing which ensued indicated that I had made some sort of linguistic error. "That's not a melon" they jeered "it's a [French word for watermelon - "pastèque" if you're interested]". They simply don't consider that melons and watermelons are related. In fact, they're probably not related botanically speaking, but the point is, they're similar in shape (big and round) and insides (juicy flesh with seeds in), so to lump them into a generic category of "melon" is not entirely outrageous, I wouldn't have thought... Frogs eh?

Some other French gems:

By the way, one of my other ideas for my new career is: "Person who warns people about the French". A consultant, if you will, to point out a few guidelines to all those people who have a rose-tint bespectacled view of our Gallic friends. Now, I'm convinced that there is a market for this, but the world may not be ready for it quite yet...

Hmmm, I think that's all for now


Note to self...


I've noticed that the amount of sugar that people have in their tea or coffee (in Britain) can be indicative of their social "class"? People from the working classes often have multiple sugars, while middle and upper classes very rarely have sugar at all, according to my observations. As people become upwardly mobile, they often decrease the amount of sugar in hot beverages, usually to zero. Witho's siblings are examples of this behaviour. Witho, however, being a non-conformist, still takes 2 sugars in tea and coffee, despite the fact that she is, essentially, middle class. So, what is *your* sugar intake?


Since the age of about 15, Witho has entertained thoughts of becoming a teacher. It's been like an itch that I've tried not to scratch for all that time. The question is, now that I'm starting again on the career front, can I ignore the itch any longer? It scares me, but at the same time, it's drawing me in, like a moth to a flame... should I, La Witho, be a teacher?

Thought of the day

One changes from day to day ... every few years one becomes a new being

George Sand

Wednesday, February 04, 2004

It's all memememememe!

In the absence of any imagination or inspiration:

  1. What time is it now? 09:32
  2. Number of candles on Last Birthday: 31 (although I didn’t have a cake…)
  3. Pets: none at the moment
  4. Birth town: Walthamstow, London
  5. Town you live in now: New Eltham, London
  6. Favorite foods: Mediterranean
  7. Ever been to Africa? No
  8. Been toilet papering? No (I suspect that if I had, I would understand the question…)
  9. Love someone so much it made you cry? Yep
  10. Been in a car accident? Yes, fell off the back of a motorbike because some silly bint changed her mind about whether she was turning left or right… got away with a broken finger…
  11. Croutons or bacon bits? Croutons, as long as they’re not the ones which shatter on sight or hurt my teeth!
  12. Favorite day of the week? Saturday
  13. Favorite Restaurant: Al Barmaki in Brussels (might not be there anymore) – Lebanese food rules!
  14. Favorite flower? Gerberas, because they look like the sort of flower you would draw as a child, lilies (my real name means lily), red roses
  15. Favorite sport to play? Tennis
  16. Favorite drink? Tea, you just can’t beat it. Except if you’ve just had a big meal, in which case, double espresso!
  17. Favorite ice cream flavour? Vanilla (the sort where you can actually see the bits of vanilla) with other stuff in, e.g. caramel, pecans, cookie dough
  18. Disney or Warner Bros? Neither or both
  19. Favorite fast food restaurant? Burglar King, KFC, but don’t have them v often
  20. What colour is your bedroom carpet? Beige or green, depending on which home you’re talking about
  21. How many times did you fail your driver's license? Once
  22. Last person you got an email from? An out of office reply from a colleague
  23. Which store would cause you to max out your credit card? Where else to max a credit card than The Maxx!
  24. What do you do most often when you are bored? Sleep, read (which inevitably leads to sleep with me…), self abuse, that sort of thing...
  25. Most annoying things people ask me? How’s London? Why don't you drink? Have you got another job yet?
  26. Bedtime? 11pm – 1am
  27. Favorite TV show? Grand Designs (subject to change)
  28. Last person you went out to dinner with? The Big Fella
  29. Ford or Chevy? This is clearly an American question, but I used to own a Ford Fiesta, so that’ll be Ford then!
  30. What are you listening to right now? Colleague messing about with monitor, boring people talking about boring shite
  31. What is your favorite colour? Black, though some would argue it’s not a colour. My toenails are currently shocking pink and I can’t seem to stop looking at them when in the bath
  32. Time you finished this meme? 09:46

Stolen from Fluffy, and edited to remove the duplicates from the last meme I did!

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

Tilesey, on the phone...

Ha ha, got you back!

Monday, February 02, 2004

Downshifting - how low can you go?

I got the details for that job I was talking about the other day. I didn't explain what it was at the time, but I might as well now. There is an English Heritage site near where I live in London which was advertising for "seasonal" (March to September) staff - people to give guided tours, run the gift shop, provide information on the site and on becoming a member of English Heritage, etc. Now, for reasons explained down here (hmmm, the so-called "permalink" doesn't seem to work), this job appealed to me. I sent a postcard for an application form.

Having received the particulars, I noted the following:

Now, there's downshifting and there's cleaning toilets. Yep, someone's got to do it, but on the one hand they expect me to give guided tours, and on the other, they expect me to wield loo brushes at errant clingons. Am I a snob for not wanting to do this?

At the Big Fella's request...

Bless 'im, he wanted me to show a pic of him on the blog, so here's one of the two of us. It was v sunny that day, hence the squinty eyes:

Sunday, February 01, 2004


Dear Weekend

You know how sometimes it seems like there aren't enough hours in the day? Well there are *never* enough days in the weekend. Please try harder to last longer in future.

Love Witho

Phew... it's been a busy time.

Friday night, drove down to Southampton with the BF in tow. It's the first time I've been back to my little flat for a month. We came back for a soirée on Saturday night at my lovely friend/colleague/neighbour's (I should probably make up a Hannabella-style abbreviation here shouldn't I?) flat so I got to see all my old Southampton-based colleagues and friends. I'm not afraid to admit that I've missed them. That has been the main sacrifice of my moving up to London, but we have always said we would come back down this way again, subject to BF finding a suitable teaching job in the area.

Anypoo (as Billy would say - I've now got the BF saying this too!), we arrived on Friday evening, called in on my lovely friend/colleague/neighbour who presented me with a shopping bag containing milk, butter and malt loaf (the staple foods of la Witho) and a bonus bunch of tulips (bless 'er!) which I displayed in my test-tube vase, as shown below:

In exchange for these items, I presented her with the takeaway menu for the curry house as she didn't have one, though I'm not convinced that this was a fair exchange, particularly since she posted the menu back through my door some time later... She's one of those selfless individuals, for whom nothing is too much trouble. A rare breed...

So Saturday was spent having a lazy (but, in the BF's case, well deserved) lie-in, going down the pub to meet some friends and watch the football (well, I didn't watch it, I just gibbered and generally distracted people from watching it), purchasing P&M (note lack of K, more of this later), getting some food supplies (apparently there is a crumpet shortage in Southampton, as the BF and I discovered to our dismay...), home for a quick shag, then out again for the mammoth journey (at least 5 yards or so...) next door for the aforementioned lovely neighbour's soirée.

We played games, ate buffet food, I wore my new denim skirt and my pointy boots. Now, la Witho is not renowned for getting her legs out on a regular basis and I nearly got away with it unscathed as I strolled in nonchalantly, but lovely F/C/N suddenly screeched "SHE'S GOT LEGS!!!" which caused all attendees to look aghast at the Witho they saw before them... Poor Witho scuttled off into the kitchen until the excitement had died down... and luckily, it did... It was a really good night - lots of bitching about work and general nonsense...

This morning, we noticed that the sun was out and thought we'd take advantage of this by playing tennis. We started getting ready, when BF realised that, whilst we had brought the tennis racquets, he hadn't brought any suitable clothing. Now, whilst I had a top which just about fit him, funnily enough I failed to have any size 11 tennis shoes just hanging about. La Witho is a big girl, but not *that* big! So tennis was out, but we went for a walk on the common instead, before heading to the pub again for Sunday lunch, then to a friends house to watch more football (although I took the opportunity to indulge in more gibbering and have a little nap...).

Again, back to my flat for "activities", before conveying the BF to the station. I'm staying down here for the next couple of days, working from the Southampton office, which means I'll see Tilesey, as well as various other chaps (most of whom I caught up with at the weekend anyway...)

This is the first time me and BF have been separated for a while, but it's only for two days, and, as previously advised, it's the exception rather than the rule, and after the amount of time we spent apart before, it shouldn't be a problem... but I reserve the right to be wistful from time to time!!!!

Now, back to Pick&Mix. Those Brits among you may know that Woolworth's have "rebranded" (*shudder*) their Pick&Mix selection. In the olden days, there was Pick&Mix and Kid's Pick&Mix (a.k.a. KP&M). Now, they no longer make that distinction, all loose sweet products are lumped into the generic "Pick&Mix". Along with this rebranding comes a new régime which I, for one, am greatly in favour of. Instead of filling a bag with sweeties, having it weighed and discovering that you owe Mr. F. W. Woolworth the princely sum of, say, £6.58 for a modest bag o' sweets, you can now fill a fixed-price cup with sweets which will cost you only £2.99 (yes readers, that's two pounds and ninety-nine pence!). Below is an illustration of the aforementioned cup, shown next to a standard bottle of Persil Aloe washing up liquid to give an idea of scale:

Now, I reckon that if I had bought those same sweets under the "weighing" régime (which, incidentally, still persists for the more conservative sweet buyers among us) it would have cost at least £4.67 (this figure being an approximation). So, my advice is, get yourself down to Woolworth's tout de suite, me old muckers!

Right, I really *will* shut up now - I'm hungry and can't stare at this screen any longer...


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