Monday, 29 August 2016

Sunday Summary Bank Holiday Monday Missive | Don't you ever say I just walked away ...

Dear FOQ

Hope you're all enjoying the long weekend! Last bank holiday 'til Christmas! Now that's a thoroughly cheery thought, said nobody ever. Egads.

Me, I've spent my time wisely. Dusting stuff. Sorting stuff. Shopping for house-dusting-and-sorting stuff.

Sweating a lot.


Whoever said the single life is one to be coveted with all its excitement and shenanigans never spent a weekend with moi ... Earlier I popped to Sainsbury's and had to demand to be allowed to stay in a queue that led to an Actual Person rather than a Self-Service machine, such was my craving for human interaction.

I bonded with the cashier over a shared love of Yorkies.

True story.

That said ...

{Sucks to be me.}


This fortnight, I have mostly been ...



Quick summary: Bored, neglected teenager gets caught up in a cult.

The structure of the story itself is slightly flawed (too much given away too soon in flashback), but – with the exception of the repetition of a few key expressions (she does like a 'phantom [insert interchangeable noun here]', I will say) – I cannot fault Cline's storytelling ability and her tricksy use of language. She, and Megan Abbott, just get the awkwardness of teenage life.

I'm deliciously uncomfortable reading this one.


at last, after starting it, what, three years ago?!


While I love Fitzgerald, and The Great Gatsby, I never want to read another Pat Hobby short story.

{Just for you, Norgstar – your ol' pal!}

FSF, you really plumbed the depths there. You little sell-out.


OITNB, always ...

Let's just have a moment for adorable little Lorna Morello and her abundance of tact:

Taggart, from The Nineties (because I'm Hella Old):

Ep: 'Double Exposure'. Featuring Meera Syal, and Jason Isaacs. Who apparently was in Harry Potter. I wouldn't know; I just report what IMDB tells me ...

Blue Water High

Because 30-degree heat during the day calls for ... DVDs of Australian kids' dramas about surfing in the evening.


Also, if there's someone from Flying Doctors in anything, you'll bet I'll still watch it. #backwardsteenforlife


... because in the 1990s the Scream series was the pinnacle of franchised horror.

(And it got Courteney and David together and that was cute for a while.)

Now it's just ... a horror. Bad acting. Cringe-worthy self-consciousness and self-referential... ness.

{Oh, it so is ...}
Oh, that hilarious joke based on a girl in the video shop looking for the horror movie that starred E.T.'s mum ... when Drew Barrymore was the first victim of the film. Hilarious, I tell thee.

Or, not.

Less Scream. More Yawn.

Channelling my inner 20-something

... by socialising with this lovely lot, my work posse (plus workmate Chloe's boyfriend).

{For the uninitiated: l–r, Dan, Chloe, Holly, Emily & Megan}

We started off at The Barn, where we were easily enticed by cocktails and Curly Fry Friday (show that you've checked in at The Barn on Facebook or Twitter, and get a free bowl of curly fries – can I get a whoop whoop?!); then, when the desire need for harder carbs became too great, off we pootled tottered to the Opera House. (Or,  yes, Wetherspoons, not to give it too many airs or graces.)

I'm still trying not to fixate on the fact that had I Got Busy when I was 16 (instead of, y'know, binge-watching my Flying Doctors videos, listening to this righteous dude, and wishing I were just a little bit more like Rizzo or Marty from Grease):

I could technically have a child the same age as Emily and Holly.

But then when I was their age, this was my work-social life:

{Tequila slammers. Ohhhhh, the memories. Which I've lost because, tequila.
I'm in the middle there in pink, in an Ali and Adam slammer sandwich.
... Wait, that sounds all wrong.}
so ... I'm still twenty-something in spirit.

Channelling my inner Beyoncé

... with mixed results.

Less this Beyoncé:

more this ...

with ropey vocals that would entice absolutely nobody to Liiiiisten ...

The context? A lil' impromptu Song Club last Saturday night, a chez Jocelyne, with Jos (of course), Ferny, Steve, Paul, Finn, Amber and Keira (oh and possibly a Pikachu) in residence.

It'd been too long and that microphone fit far too easily into my hand after much, much Bucks Fizz (oopsy). But it was lovely to see this contingent of Lovelies again, and thank you, Jos, for allowing me to work out some train-related frustration with all the (c)rap:

and all the bad, bad song choices I could think of.

*cough* Wrecking Ball *cough*

It's a very hard song to sing, I'll have you know.

Pretty sure my Kelis was on point though, with this little love song to an institution I like to call ... Southern Rail:

(And no, Jos, don't worry, I'm not really that angry, I'm grrrrr-y. In a good way. ;-))

Boot Sale Trawling

On Sunday morning (when I know I probably should have been ... elsewhere), I took myself over to Dorking for a mooch around the renowned weekly boot sale. Not sure what I was looking for but in all honesty, it was a little bit disappointing. Last time I went, with Norgstar some years back, I came away with some brilliant prints, and an iconic Polaroid Land camera. Which didn't work but makes a very nice shelf knickknack.

This time, it was like somebody had picked up the grotty parts of a local street market (discounted biscuits and washing up liquid), and dumped them there.


That said, I still managed to come away with a decent haul from two of the stalls.

Look upon, and marvel over, these additions to my record collection and my book shelves (I'm collecting vintage Ladybirds ...):

All for the total princely sum of ... £6.20. Bargain.

Pinterest Pins of the Fortnight

One verbal ♦ one visual

{via here}
{source | Cat & Rabbit on Flickr}

Fortnightly Web Finds


  • How to use the London Underground | @TechnicallyRon on Like to Discover | via Overheard at Waitrose on FB
{via here}
  • Lousy book covers | via here | In case you've ever wondered why I'm so snobbish about self-publishing ... this is one such reason:
{Double shame whammy for using ...
  • Thanks again to Jill for sharing this; it's brilliant. Tiny bit creepy, but brilliant:

(And no, I did not self-defecate laughing; honestly, internet caption lunatics, have some decorum.)


I don't know how safe, if at all, the tin foil trick is, though – don't try that at home, kids!

Until the next missive ... shake it off, Taylor-stylee.

qb xx

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