Previously on 23...

The clocks go forward tonight, which means we lose an hour. Which doesn't bother me. But what about Jack Bauer...? Every hour counts!

Plink, plink, plink...

On reflection

Ah - yesterday was my 6-month bloggiversary. I've surprised myself that I've kept it going (albeit inconsistently) for this long. It's lasted longer than my latest gym membership, but there's still a way to go before it surpasses the longest I've ever given up chocolate (2 years, since you asked).

As I like lists so much (oh, really?), here are a couple more:

6 things that I have done during the last 6 months
Visited Paris
Been to more live music events than I had in the previous 10 years
Knitted a scarf
Cooked risotto for the first time
Taken up golf (sort of)
Written a poem

6 things I'd like to do in the next 6 months
Go to the opera
Hang all my pictures
Decorate my bathroom
Get a fabulous new job
Change my curtains
Get my garden looking lovely

So, as my blog is called Nothing Much Will Happen, expect more of the same for the foreseeable future. Don't say I didn't warn you...!

It's like newspaper and vinegar on a stick!

I have started 'garden leave' - I only have to go into the office for a couple of meetings and, hopefully a few interviews for a fabulous new job - so I thought I should do something outdoorsy. I was pondering this on this bright and sunny morning, when I realised that it looked a bit dull and overcast. Aah - my windows! They were practically opaque, so I thought I'd do something about it. Obviously I have many cleaning products for the job (see earlier post), but I hate cleaning windows almost as much as I hate, er, getting wet and mucky in the freezing cold and trying to clean glass without ending up with a smeary mess.

Someone (possibly my grandmother) once told me that the only way to get smear-free windows is to use newspaper and vinegar. But hey, why do something cheaply when I can use fancy cleaning products and Bounty ultra-absorbent kitchen towel? Then I remembered: last year I bought myself a window scrubber (sort of like a synthetic sheepskin pad with a handle) and a squeegee. Why didn't my grandmother ever tell me about squeegees? Why didn't anyone ever tell me about squeegees? Best thing ever! Smear-free windows. No soggy sleeves. And windows I can actually see through. Let the sun shine in (cue the rain)!

Update: as I've been asked, the photo is of part of the garden of the Budock Vean Hotel in Cornwall.

Infamy, Infamy!

Aha! Thanks to MaryB I have just resolved something that's been bugging me: why does 15th March ring a bell with me? I've been thinking I'm missing someone's birthday or an important anniversary, or something. But it's the ides of March. Of course! And on this 15th March, I was told that my job is being made redundant. How appropriate... Someone in corporate HR land has a sense of humour after all! :/

Caesar: Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a
tongue, shriller than all the music
Cry "Caesar!" Speak. Caesar is turn'd to hear.
Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.

The c word

I'm staying up too late and, as I often do, have switched on to 'Celebrity Poker' (oh, I know!). What is so fantastic about this particular programme is the calibre of celebrities at the table. Whilst it's fair to say that Craig Charles and Keith Allen are bona fide well-known figures (in the UK, anyway), how do "Britain's leading baseball presenter, Jonny Gould" and "MD of Britain's largest concierge service" (whose name I didn't catch) find themselves on any talent booker's books?

While I'm on the subject, I am currently entertained by the advert in which a "celebrity beauty editor" sings the praises of the latest skincare super-ingredient (polyblahdipeptics, or something) that will give you celebrity results and a celebrity complexion. She tells us that we might expect to pay a "celebrity price" for such an amazing thing, but no, us mere mortals can enjoy celebrity-type skin at a non-celebrity-type price.

So, if I say that I am a celebrity to a large enough audience, does that make me one?

I'll start small with you, dear readers: "I'm a celebrity! Listen to me!". (Now, when am I on 'Richard & Judy'?)

Hello! I'm... who?

Commenting on a previous post led me to look something up that I've been meaning to check out for ages: who is Barry Scott of Cillit Bang fame?

Turns out he's a fictional person, but he has his own blog and even leaves comments on other (real) people's blogs! Hm... Viral marketing gone a step too far, perhaps.

Incidentally, there's a link on his blog to Paul Daniels' blog. I spent more time than I care to admit reading it this afternoon - it's strangely compelling (mainly, I think, because any minute I was expecting to find out that it wasn't actually the Paul Daniels. But his AOL name is rather subtly thepauldaniels, so I guess it must really be him...)

Scrubs up nicely

Apparently, I'm not only stationery-obsessed, but I'm also a sucker for cleaning products. I have:

Cream cleaner
'Power' cleaner
Bathroom cleaner
Limescale remover
Sink cleaner
Hob cleaner
Oven cleaner
Glass cleaner
Window wipes
Furniture cleaner
Furniture polish
Furniture wipes
Floor cleaner
Floor wipes
And, just so I've got all bases covered, multi-purpose cleaner.

I feel a de-clutter coming on!

No sign of Tony, but I saw a Swiss Frank!

I managed to wangle myself a completely free trip to Geneva for a few days. The purpose was to accompany a friend from work who is relocating there and to help her look for a place to live. Now, this was an opportunity that was difficult to turn down. Aside from the obvious joy of getting something for nothing, the idea of looking at other people's houses and having to choose one, with no emotional involvement whatsoever, was too good to miss.

So, having checked-in online (isn't technology wonderful?) we thought it would be a relaxed wander through security and into the BA fancy lounge (for my friend is an Executive Club Gold Card holder and settles for nothing short of fabulous)! However, my boarding card wouldn't print, so we had to queue to check-in. Then the sour-faced BA lady said I'd have to check my bag as it was too heavy for hand luggage (and lo, it was 0.4kg too heavy, so hats off to her for her 'picking something up and guessing its weight' skill).

Which leads me to digress slightly - if my bag was a bit too heavy, so I took something out of it and put it in my handbag, I'd still be carrying the same weight, so what's the problem? It makes my head hurt thinking about that...

Anyhoo, we then went to go through security and the queue was 3 times the length of the terminal building. Two and a half hours to get through, apparently, and our flight was in 45 minutes! We managed to get through after making a fuss and getting 'randomly selected' to participate in the trial body scanner security thing (which involves standing on some yellow tape and putting your arms in the air while people giggle at you from behind a screen). Anyway, we successfully managed to push in to the front of the queue and had to run to the gate, just in time to board the plane. Phew!

Which, though it meant I missed my first BA Executive Lounge experience, did prevent any tedious hanging around at the airport. Which is the thing I hate most about travelling.

Arriving in Geneva, we got a taxi to the hotel, freshened up (lady talk for going to the loo!), and headed off for fondue. Martina, being Austrian, has fond childhood memories of fondue. I, being a child in the seventies, have too. After much conversation about the difference between Fondue Bourguignonne and Fondue Chinoise (the first is cooking in oil, the other in broth, since you asked) we plumped for the former - at the very least, it makes sure you chew your food well, eating one small piece of beef every 5 minutes...

The next 2 days were taken up with visiting apartment after apartment and getting incredibly confused about which one had the nice view, or the awful kitchen, or the funny smell. No confusion about which one had the fantastic wood floor - they all did! The good news is that we found a lovely apartment just a street away from the lake and a 15-minute walk from the office. Hurrah!

With all the apartments viewed, and our final appointment cancelled, we were back at the airport just in time to catch the earlier flight. Again, we had to hurry to the gate and had no hanging around time! Hurrah! And, we got upgraded to Club!

So, if you're interested, my Geneva observations:-

• It's a nice city, but not a 'holiday' city, in my opinion - though only 20 minutes from the nearest ski slopes, so it would make a great base for a winter break.
• Judging by the apartments we viewed, the Genevese(?) aren't much bothered about having a nice bathroom.
• There are buses and trams aplenty - just the way it should be.
• The 'old town' is fabulous - it reminded me of Montmartre.
• The lake is really big.

Picture this

I went to a concert the other day (or was it a gig?). Jack Johnson at Hammersmith Apollo. It was very good indeed (but I'm no music critic, so I'm not going to review it or anything...). However, what astonished me was the number of people taking photos with their phones the whole entire time.

Now, I get that you might want the odd shot or two of the artist you've paid money to see (especially when it was as difficult to get tickets as this was), but taking a picture of him singing each and every song - he's not Shirley Bassey - there's no costume change! And then taking pictures of your friends listening to him singing each and every song. Maybe a couple of pictures of yourself. And some more pictures of your friends. In the dark. Why? It annoyed me...

N-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-now! Baby give it up...

So - give it up for Lent! This has to be a much better tactic than New Year's Resolutions, because:

a) You've got a time limit. Come Easter, you know that your deprivation can end (if you want it to).
b) No 'first day of the year' type pressure. OK, so this year the first day of Lent happens to fall on the first of the month, but that's just a coincidence, so it doesn't count. And it's a Wednesday. Middle of the week. Perfect.
c) Nobody is willing you to fail. Nobody ever believes anybody will keep a New Year's Resolution. But giving something up for Lent? If someone offers you chocolate, you can just say "I gave that up for Lent" and they won't question it. If you say "My New Year's Resolution is to stop eating chocolate," they'll cajole you into 'just a square' of Galaxy, or sneak Maltesers into your crisp packet when you're not looking.

So, I decided to give up chocolate and dairy products. However, I will not stop having milk in my tea because that would mean giving up tea, and that's just too much to ask. But I'm making the rules here, so there. No - I'll just not eat big lumps of cheese. That kind of thing.

Oh, and I accidentally had some chocolate today. So I'm starting tomorrow. 2nd March - much more random...