So this morning’s enforced wake up time was made all the more annoying by the fact I had a horrendous nights sleep. The smoke alarm drama continued through the night and meant I was even more paranoid of over sleeping than I usually am the night before a race. The ear plugs worked too well, so I had to sleep with my phone under the pillow to ensure if I missed the alarm tone I felt the manic vibrations.
It turned out to be even more worthless a step seeing as my name was not even registered down as having entered. Some stupid system. Fortunately there was a woman I know complaining about the said same system as I got there, we were given random chips and told to speak to someone at the end. Alas there was no one to talk to other than the t shirt people, who were militant in tone and conversation, so I didn’t bother.
I met Rachel and Valerie and we went for a drink and a general chat about how kick ass life is in your 30’s. Turned out the stayed in watching X Factor too. I must admit tho, I struggle to think of anything else I would have wanted to have done. It’s too good tv really to miss out on. I returned home to find Pete doing some college stuff, which was his default position as I set up the ironing station before tackling dinner.
Dinner was Ina’s Company Pot Roast. I watched that Back to Basics again Friday where Ina buys a massive piece of beef, starts doing a pot roast, realises Jeffrey works away and she is alone so gives it to her friend Dwyer, who by the looks of her plastic surgery is not short of a bob or two. The pot roast sounded gorgeous. Softened carrot, celery and onion, chicken stock, red wine, tomatoes, rosemary, thyme, salt and pepper. Slow cooked beef. Gorgeous. I prepped, put it in the oven on 3 for about 3 and a half hours. Sensational. I served it with the fried gnocchi, with some Rosemary. Stunning. Loved it. Such a lovely Autumnal tea, after a few hours of ironing.
Ironing hell is upon Pete and I. I have hopefully sorted the majority of mine out. I’m no closer to being packed mind. That will have to be Tuesday and Wednesday morning’s job. It will be fine. I’m mainly going to be in casuals, but have a few show stoppers up my sleeve. I find the US to be less fashion forward than the UK. I think as a smaller island, we get all the styles concentrated and exposed upon us, whereas in the US you find people harder to spot, if that makes sense? Not that I’m very fashion forward myself. I always want to think I am, but Im not at all, really. Although I seemed to adopt the dropped crotch trouser just before it exploded. Myself and JLS seemed to start that one off.
I needed some sweet comfort whilst coping with what seemed like another eight hours of x factor tonight. We have no eggs, no chocolate, nothing in. Except Jus-roll pastry and apples. Voilà. A quick french apple tart was improvised. And was just the ticket. I managed to gorge a load down whilst feasting on Wagner’s victory and then the demise of Nicolo and FYD. Who knew french apple tart could be impromptu?
The boys were unfortunate, it didn’t help that their front man in those glasses looked like a bald Sammy Davis later in his career. Nicolo was one of those people whose arrogance didn’t suit him, and who was less quirky more weird. People don’t like weird. Quirky use. Quirky is unusual, unique, cute. It’s how none of us feel like the crowd, quirky is awkward with confidence, which we can relate too. Arrogance is the opposite. Arrogant is aggressive, over confident, it’s bullish and dismissive. Arrogant is the bully from school, quirky is the other kid who stood out at school who you admired because they never apologised for being a squat peg in the round hole. And weird, well weird is just that. It’s what makes us less inquisitive about why someone is different, more scared to figure out what goes off in their head. Or not at all bothered cos it’s probably some overly arty rubbish anyway, that’s what I thought at least.
So after X Factor dominated my night, I had Downton Abbey to watch. It’s really finding it’s feet now. Loved it. Maggie Smith is awesome, as is Penelope Wilton. Love them both. Chameleon women, they just always look completely perfect wherever they are and whatever they do. Love it. And Liam from Corrie is pretty good as a ruthless gay. He flirted with a Turkish pervert tonight. Well, don’t get me started on Turkey. I fell out with someone on Facebook for my views once before.
Right, bed. Work tomorrow. Boo. Break up Tuesday. Hurrah. First transatlantic blog will be written Thursday. Can’t believe it. I’m taking this shit global. I feel like I need a BBC outside Broadcast unit with me. Except Instead I’ll have Pete and a suitcase. Ah well. Better than nowt. And let’s face it, I’m only a few sleeps away from the land of frozen yogurt and Whole Foods Market. And how I have missed that world.
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