This is hardcore

On Friday night we went out to celebrate a friends birthday. His wife had booked the private dining room here for him. She is a much better wife than I am. It was really lovely evening, a fabulous dining room to ourselves, the best food ever, good company, great service. In fact we were having such a lovely evening that it was some time before someone noticed that the pictures in the beautiful frames on the walls were porn. And why, yes they were! Lots and lots of victorian porn. Well! It was almost enough to put me off my dark chocolate and orange truffle cake.

Almost.

And judging by the bored faces of the ladies in the Vicporniana, I'd say my dessert was a whole lot better than theirs.

Lazy Librarian

I'm not very good at having a lie in. Stupidly early nights yes, lazy weekend mornings no. But this weekend I have had two 9am starts (this is probably the equivalent of you lying in 'til 1pm) and an afternoon nap! I must've needed it, as my nanna would have said. However, all this lying down has left me with a really bad back. The kind that is fine until you try to do something, which means every time I try and get out of bed, get off a chair, bend down, or do anything I am making an involuntary "oooh", "sssss", or "eee-aa-ooo" noise. Which is not very attractive, and the kinda thing I wasn't expecting until after my 30th birthday.

What's that coming over the hill...

...it's three people who appreciate an early night, that's what it is!

So a couple of weeks ago, me, Miss S and FM Dave went to see The Automatic. Oh, I thought we were being both 'hip' and indeed 'down with the kids' by going to see a relatively new band, and as I brought the tickets before Monster was even released (The Automatic 'Monster', not the REM 'Monster'. I don't think The Automatic were even born when that was out...) we had every reason to feel cool and smug. Ah, indie smugness, one of my favourite hobbies.

When we got to the doors a good 30 minutes after they should have opened, they were still shut! And there was a queue. A queue full of what appeared to be small children, which made us all feel 80 years old. We decided that we didn't want to stand around and wait for the doors to open, what with being 80 and all, as we needed a sit down. Ooh, our aching backs etc. etc. When we returned to the queue, the doors were open, and in we went, pausing only to remark how loud the music was - "it's so loud" - and also to note that the "loud" was still a good floor or two above us, and could only get louder.

So, to cut a long story short, we waited and waited for The Automatic to come on. And when did the cheeky blighters decide to turn up? 10pm, that's when. 10pm! On a school night! What were they thinking? Luckily they were rubbish and we decided to leave early, with a sensible loo stop on the way out, so we wouldn't have to catch the last train, or heaven forbid, the night bus home.

And that's when I knew I was old.

Senior moments

Blimey, I haven't blogged in ages! Lazy old me. There are lots of reasons I haven't blogged. I am actually busy doing work at work (I know!), not a great deal has happened to me in the last two months, but most importantly, my memory is broken. In the past couple of weeks you would not believe the amount of times I've thought "ooh, I'll blog about that" only to sit down in front of the pc and find my brain is full of "errrmmm" and not a lot else.

I'll start carrying a pad and pen around with me at all times, and we'll take it from there.

Pretty in pink

Next week I am going on my first ever gay hen night! The organiser says that the hen wants us to wear at lest one item of pink. She says "you MUST have a pair of pink shoes in your collection? "

Pink? Do I have pink? My wedding dress was pink! Although I will refrain from wearing my wedding dress (and only because I really don't think that it will fit me anytime soon, what with all the post wedding pigging out), I will wear my pink shoes, use my pink handbag, wear a lovely pink brooch and paint my nails pink. Not that you'll be interested, but I will also wear pink undies!

Trains, planes and automobiles

This is how I got to Alicante, the full journey from leaving home, to arriving in the villa...

Walk to station
Train to Victoria
Bus to Oxford Street
Go to work
Bus to Islington
Walk up Upper Street
Go to party
Walk to tube
Get tube to Victoria
Go for a wee at Victoria (in the toilets, stupid)
Get back on tube to Heathrow
Get Hotel Hoppa bus from Heathrow to hotel
Sleep in hotel, zzzzz
Get Hotel Hoppa bus from hotel to Heathrow
Fly to Madrid Barajas airport, terminal 4s*
Get funny underground driverless train to Madrid Barajas terminal 4
Get bus from terminal 4 to terminal 2
Get a bit lost in terminal 2
Get on metro to Madrid Chamartin train station
Get train to Alicante
Car fom Alicante station to Villa...and, relax.

Phew!

*Madrid terminal 4s - still not convinced it's actually in Spain. Should it really take two forms of transport just to leave the airport?

We're all going on a(nother) summer holiday...

I spoke to my mum last night, as she is off to Spain today with my sister and my dad. Me and Mr L. are flying out to meet them tomorrow. We're staying in a friend's villa, and my burning question was "will there be towels?". Thankfully the answer was yes, 'cus as at that point I only had room in my bag for one tissue, and that's not going to get two people dry every day for a week, is it?

My mum said "Have you packed?" and yes, I had packed. Very lightly and sensibley, in just my day pack. Half of which is taken up with wedding photos. So I told my mum that I had hardly packed anything and she said "Ooh me too. I'm just taking two pairs of shoes. Wait, no two pairs of shoes and some flip-flops. And the shoes I'm travelling in."

Right mum, that's travelling light. Four pairs of shoes for seven days.

You stole the sun from my heart

Conversations two grown up married woman should probably be too sensible for #1

Me: JDB is playing the barfly next week. The Barfly! when I told Mr L he said "but it's really tiny" and I said "Yes. I know. That's the whole point." It's sold out but I'm going to try and win tickets. God, can you imagine? Think of the stalking potential. Although I'd also have to make a banner saying "I WAITED for you James Dean Bradfield. WAITED. For years! And now I'm married and you'll just have to deal with it."

Mrs D: I bet he won't be able to deal with it. He'll be all "boo hoo I've lost Abby"

Me: And I'll be all "yeah, and you tell Dave Grohl next time you see him, too"

Mrs D: And he'll be all "We had a vigil when you got married - we cried and cried and Grohl wore a bridesmaids dress"

Me: Do you know what, I bet they totally did that. And I bet the bridesmaids dress was borrowed from Nicky Wire.

Glasses? Check! Strudel? Check!

This list was found on a post-it in the library today:

Travel cream
Adaptor
Strudel
Creme Caramel
Take Glasses

What was this list for? I like to think it's a packing list and that there is someone who uses our library who ranks packing a Strudel and a Creme Caramel as more imortant than packing their glasses for a holiday in the sun.

Sleeping Beauty

There is an elderly lady who has lunch at the same time as me, and sits in the funny bit of a corridor/staff room type 'area' where I also luncheon. Everyday this lady sits down, opens her newspaper, eats half a sandwich and then falls asleep. Her head drops down and she looks for all the world as though she is deeply engrossed in her newspaper. She is so sound asleep that no-one can wake her. You'll get the occasional newcomer to the 'area' who tries to ask if they can take a seat at her table, or pinch a chair to move to another table, and they will ask politely, then ask a bit louder, then shout, some of them wave, then they just take the chair. Nothing will wake this woman, fire alarms, kids holiday clubs in the room next door, loud laughter, nothing.

Or so I thought. But yesterday I managed the impossible. Being slovenly in my wifely duties, I hadn't bothered to make lunch and so had been to the canteen to buy some sandwiches. Being slovenly in my dieting duties I had purchsed a Double Cheddar sandwich, mmmmm, calories. I went to the 'area' and there were no seats at an empty table, so I went and sat by the window, opposite Sleeping Lady. There she was, sound asleep, until I opened my sandwiches, "zwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwippppppppp" went the plastic cover, and she sat bolt upright and looked around in a very funny "I wasn't asleep at all" kinda way, settled back down and went back to sleep. And I giggled to myself all the way through my Double Cheddar sandwich.

Lost! Series 2! hooray!

So I know the world and his wife will be blogging about Lost series 2 on British tv at last, so I'll be brief.

1. Why is Marti Pellow living underground on the island?

and

2. Don't come here for witty comments on Lost first. I can neither stomach the amount of ads that channel 4 stick into the show (12 minutes worth after 3 minutes of the show?) nor stay up 'til 11.05 in the pm so I have to record it and watch it the next day.

Worth getting married for

Just to hear my 5 year old godson say with a very serious face "I'll need a poo soon I've eaten so much cake".

Which pips the previous 'quote of the wedding' from the day before by the wonderful waitress "these knives are so sharp they will cut BOTH your arms off!!!" Not just a finger mind, or a hand, but BOTH YOUR ARMS.

I do (love pizza)

So, the wedding has been and gone. We enjoyed it a great deal, it was everything we wanted it to be with all our friends and family around us, everything ran smoothly. Well, almost everything and as my very wise best friend said "well, it wouldn't be a proper wedding if there wasn't a problem".

The most worrying aspect of the whole weekend was the discovery that I can no longer eat a whole pizza. Luckily we discovered this after the "I do" bit otherwise Mr L would have had perfectly good grounds to call the whole thing off. Having denied myself pizza since Christmas I was really looking forward to the meal after the wedding. And I was staaaaaaaaarving hungry. So I ordered my favourite pizza, and sensibly had a salad as a starter to leave enough room. It started off well, but with a good 1/4 pizza left I was full. F.U.L.L. To the top. The shame! I put this theory to test again on our honeymoon and guess what? Had to leave 1/4 again! However, you can still talk to me as both times, despite being so full, so very, very full, I managed a dessert.

She's still got it.

Dear blog,

please forgive me, I forgot your first birthday! How careless of me. I am a bad mother. If I wasn't so sick of baking, I'd bake you a cake, but after spending all of last weekend baking wedding cakes I just can't face the greaseproof paper again. Not yet.

Well, what a year it's been ey? We've seen the formation of Indie Boot Camp, put on and lost one stone in weight, laughed at Bookish Barbara, atteptmed to join not one but two GP surgeries, and decided to get married. No, not me and you married blog, that would be crazy!

Anyway, I'll leave you to celebrate your birthday. Just don't drink too much okay?

Lots of Love,

Lady Librarian

P.S. Yes, I am fully aware that this blog is the equivalent of those 'flashback' episodes of Friends that nobody really likes.

Happy Hen Night!

banner
Originally uploaded by Lady Librarian.

I'd like to say that I've only just around to blogging about my hen night as I've only just recovered, but that would be a lie to make me sound more rock and roll than I am. In truth I am lazy.

But look at my banner! It is a work of beauty and I love it. I have it at home, and if we ever live anywhere big enough to put it up, I will! Click on the picture to see an in depth explanation of the banner, just like at a museum.

It was an excellent night, and went a bit like this (I think):

2.30pm Meet friends at Euston Station and nip to M&S for those hen night essentials: tea bags and champagne.

4pm Cups of tea and glasses of champagne all round and a game of 'pin the winky wonky on Dave Grohl'. This is a bit like pin the tail on the donkey, but with more rock stars and penis shaped vegetable photos.

6.30pm Everyone going "argh we have an hour to get ready and there are four ladies per bathroom!"

7.45pm I am bossing everyone into putting the finishing touches to their make up and bundling them out the hotel.

7.50pm I shove four of the ladies into a taxi telling them a bus would never turn up, and we'll get the next available taxi.

7.51pm Me, Miss S and Booky B get on a bus, realising we have sent the four ladies who don't live in London off in the taxi...

8.05pm Hurrah! We arrive at the pub and the taxi ladies are already there and getting the drinks in.

9pm Whilst I am forcing booze down Booky Bs neck like it's going out of fashion, we make friends with a young man called John. Booky B thinks she told him he looked like a male prostitute. What she actually said was "You look like a male prostitute". John replied with "Well, how much would you pay for me" Booky B "Five pounds. And I'd expect four pounds fifty change" How did this woman end up married?

10pm Head off from the pub to the club. I demand we get taxis! Four of us jump into the first taxi and I ask for a fictitious address. We want the Macadam building, I ask for Macadam Street. It's a miracle we get there. As we are pulling off in our taxi, we look out of the back window to see a rikshaw dude pulling up looking like all his birthdays have come at once. At last, a punter, willing to risk life and limb in my rickety rickshaw! And not any old punter but three lovely ladies! The three lovely ladies wave rikshaw man on and get in a proper taxi.

10.30pm Making our way into the club, we cannot manage (between eight of us, two totally sober) to press the right button in the lift. This is shocking. Three of us even worked in this building for quite a while. All the more shocking is there are only three buttons you can press - the way out, the club and for some reason floor 2. This totally flumoxes us, and we (of course) press the wrong one, pile out at floor 2, only to turn on our heels and pile back in. We press all buttons for good measure and eventually get into the club.

10.35pm I make my way to the DJ box. I tell him "hello, it's my hen night" point to my 'Abby's Hen night 2006' badge lovingly made by my sister. I continue; "if you play The Smiths or The Wonderstuff I can guarantee you at least four (hold up four fingers) ladies on that empty dancefloor (point at empty dancefloor)" DJ agrees. I think he may have been a little scared.

10.40pm Carter USM 'Bloodsport For All' comes on! Yesssss! Pretty sure that only me and Booky B knew the track, most of the kids in there probably weren't born when it was out. We dance like we're 19 and manage to take up the whole, empty dancefloor.

2am We continue to dance the night away, Booky B and Miss S attract a lot of male attention, all of them weird. Finally when our legs are about to seize up we head back to the hotel, where asking for extra pillows seems to be a very greedy thing to do, the receptionist telling us "I am very busy" forgetting that we just had to walk through a very empty reception to get to our room...

We're talkin' about money, money

In particular the £30 I am worse off today after a 7 year old promise came back to haunt me.

Anyone who knows me, knows that saying "let's go see (insert name of band here)" is my number one hobby of choice, and when I am drunk it is my super number one hobby. Anyway, just before I left home seven years ago, my mum was talking about Simply Red, and how she'd love to go and see them. Now this was too much bait to refuse, so being the good daughter/obsessed with saying I'll go to gigs person that I am, I said "if they ever play round here, I'll go". Now I'd just like to point out that seven years ago the chances of Simply Red ever playing my home town were remoter than something right over the far side of on a remote island in the Unites States of Remoteshire.

Fast forward seven years, and guess what tickets I just brought? £30 to go and see Mick "lardy" Hucknall and his possee, at an outdoor gig in one of the rainiest towns in the country. Yeah, thanks Stoke City for building a stadium big enough not only for football, but also for gigs. Thanks a big bloody lot.

Bye bye indie street cred, bye bye.

Look at this

Lazy blog I know, but really, look at this. It's rude and funny! Result!

Party Hard

I'm trying to put together some 'tunes' for the party the day after the wedding. For my first selection I was thinking I'd go all 1996, you know, the year we met, and also the year of some damn fine music. The last time I made a CD for a wedding party it almost sent me over the edge. And my friend spent three weeks before his 40th birthday putting together his perfect party mix. So, in order to ease the pain this time round, any suggestions? What makes a good party song?

There are just a few pointers:

• No Coldplay/Travis/Embrace/any group with whingy front man/woman.
• No swearing in the song! My mum and dad will be there!
• If we are to dance to it, please bear in mind that we will be drunk and in ridiculously high heels.
• If we are to dance to it, and there's a routine that goes with it, all the better!
• No sad songs to make the maudlin' drunks cry.
• Songs which mention weddings will get you bonus points. Well, they would if there was a point system going on here. Which there isn't, becuase I'm not Tesco Clubcard.
• Songs that mention librarians get 1,000 extra bonus points. Maybe I should set up a points system.
• Did I mention no Coldplay? I mean it!
• Booky B, I am not playing 5 hours non-stop The Darkness.
• Take your cue from the Last FM link over there.

Any suggestions?

Yoga

So what's that all about, then? A friend at work has lent me her yoga dvd, as I've been meaning to try yoga for ages (I have no idea why, I just feel I should). It was as I suspected, I am in no way co-ordintaed enough to do yoga. By the time I've worked out my lefts and rights, the bloody woman is on to the next move. And how can something so holistic make you swear so much? And the falling over, what's that about?

Why I never wanted to phone the bridal shop in the first place

Bridal shop lady: "Hello, House of Brides"
Lady Librarian: "Hello, if I wanted to come and look at dresses, do I need to make an appointment or can I just come along?"
BSL: "Ooh, no deary. You can just come along if you want to, the only time you need to make an appointment is on a late night or a Saturday"
LL: "And if I wanted to try them on?"
BSL: "That's fine my love, we'll help you with all that, don't you worry"
LL: "Right, okay, well I should be coming along in a couple of hours, is that okay?"
BSL: "Fine, fine. When's the wedding dear?"
LL: "29th April"
BSL: "29th April next year?"
LL: "This year."
BSL: "THIS YEAR????? THE 29TH APRIL THIS YEAR???!! Why, you've left it far, far too late. This year?"
LL: "But it says you have a 6 week rapid service, and the wedding isn't for another 8 weeks"
BSL: "Oh no, I'm not doing that. I couldn't guarantee it"
LL: (thinks well why do you offer it then?) "Oh okay, bye"
BSL: "Bye" (puts phone down) "Jean, Jean! Bloody Nora, Jean! She's getting married on the 29th April THIS YEAR and she's only just asking about dresses! THIS YEAR! I need a drink. No, not tea, Jean, Didn't you hear me? I said 29th April THIS YEAR. Pass the whisky. This year!! THIS!!!! YEAR!!!!"