Gee, sore

Muchos entertainment on the train last night. A twenty-something girl and her parents were heading home after the theatre, when some tall, dark-haired dude jumps on the train just before it pulls away. The girl goes BRIGHT red and there is obviously some history between the two of them as they embrace awkwardly, and he knows her parents, and they all chat politely until he hops off at the next stop.

The girl is obviously in shock, and it unravels - to the eager ears of the whole train carriage - that he is a former boyfriend who dumped her and they hadn't seen each other or been in touch for quite some time. To add another layer of embarrassment for the poor lass, it is also revealed that the ex in question is a former member of a successful and well-known pop-opera quartet who have since split up (I don't want to name them just in case they have google alerts set up, but you can probably work it out from the title of this posting...)

Tons of respect to her though - she was obviously extremely flustered by the situation, especially since her parents witnessed it. But she dealt with the subsequent barrage of questions and ribbing from random train passengers when the full awkwardness of their encounter came to light with good humour. But that poor girl!!

Mustard-keen??!!

So I was reading the Independent today (£1???!!! - thank goodness I don't have to pay for it) and I made a rather pointless observation in two articles. That is, both articles contained a phrase that I had never heard before: 'mustard-keen'.

I'm sure this is not an unusual turn of phrase, it just so happens that I've never heard it before. But the fact that it was in pretty much the only two articles that I read in the Independent today freaked me out. Just a little. Or perhaps reporters at the Indy are MESSING WITH OUR MINDS....

Proof.

Unexpected day off

We got evacuated from the office yesterday and have no idea when we'll be allowed back. Apparently, water cascading onto the electrical system does not make for a safe working environment. We have no access to e-mails or anything - shame! My crisis mode kicked in nicely, and I helped to put together an emergency telephone pyramid so we can quickly keep each other updated on the situation given the lack of e-communication.

Unfortunately the nature of my job means that I for one can actually still do some work from home. However, I guess I mustn't grumble about being paid to sit in my new flat today, reading all of the newspapers whilst catching up with the Loose Women and Quincy's latest passionate plight.

Now I'm looking forward to a nice cosy and wholesome weekend in the countryside with my fab friends. The wellies are already packed, so bring on some sogginess!

It's been a while...

...In fact, it's been a whole bloomin month. Busiest month ever though. For one week of it I was in Dubai to visit a friend (amazingly weird place, lush weather and the best steak ever!) and the rest of the time I have been buying a flat. I am now in said flat. Aren't I grown up?!

Some funny tube announcements from the last few weeks or so that I would like to share (*in fab cockney accents*):

"Ladies and gentlemen, Balham underground station is closed. Water has SOMEHOW managed to make its way down to the station from street level, plunging it into darkness."

"Please mind the closing doors, this beast is now ready to depart."

Oh, and another one from a well spoken driver who sounded like he should be a local radio DJ. Can't remember what he said, but it definitely involved the word "thus", which made me chuckle. Oh the tube, how I miss thee!