I came within 100ft of Al Pacino! I think...

My friends and I went for a meal on Leicester Square last night, and the premiere of 'The Merchant of Venice' was on.

We could hear the screams and see the flashes from the papparazzi but no celebs unfortunately. Al was there, as he was on the front page of the Metro apparently. So close and yet so far. Especially as he is quite diminutive, v difficult to see from a distance.

I've yet to see any real celebrities since being in London, I'd probably not recognise them anyway.

Maybe I should start hanging around Notting Hill or Primrose Hill more, seems a bit too much of an effort though to be honest

I think I'm getting a cold..

which is never good as I hate being ill and away from home. So have eaten a fair bit of ice cream as I have a sore throat *ahem*.

But I'm not a total slacker, I did clean the WHOLE FLAT. Well, at least the bits you can see.

Can recommend the new Bridget Jones flick. Yes, it might not be original blah blah blah. But it is bloody funny and how I love Colin. The fight scene was not as brilliant as in the first film but that's about the only thing criticism I can think of. Oh, and it is NOTHING like the book.

To balance out the fact I have eaten half my body weight in Haagen Dasz today, its salad for tea. Mmmmm rabbit food. With lots of yummy dressing. Naughy me.

Connectivity!

Yes, the wireless LAN is finally set up in the flat and lo, all must hail it in its magnificance!

*Bows before wireless router*

It's a good job I'm an athiest as I'm sure this probably comes under worshipping a craven images or something.

Plus a big thank you to my flatmate's friends who fixed the big mess and made it work. Cheers guys!

My blogger code is..

B2 d- t- k s+ u-- f i o+ x e- l c

When I started this job six weeks ago....

...I swear I had a desk. I'm sure it must be somewhere under all these papers and files. But I'm scared if I try to dig and find it, it'll start an avalanche and then I'll be trapped.

Oh the humanity!

I have embraced my inevitable spinsterhood...

..and spent Friday night eating ice cream and watching films. Mmmm strawberry cheesecake flavour ice cream.

Saturday saw me battling along Oxford Street to Waterstones to spend a £20 voucher. I got three books for about £1 each. 'Ave it!

I completed my relaxing weekend with a trip to the wonderful National Gallery, which is such a lovely place to an afternoon. If the art on the walls (which is astounding) is not to your taste then simply settle back in a well placed comfy leather chair and watch the people instead. Heaven.

I must confess to going into the giftshop, and being tempted by all the tacky thins on display which you just had to have when you were a child. Oddly shaped rubbers, crap pens and other crap which seemed essential when you were 10 and hada couple of quid in your pocket!

Where do all the socks go?

Somewhere between the washing basket, the washing machine and my sock drawer there is an interdimensional portal which sucks in my socks. It also leaves only odd socks or ones with holes in.
Damn your eyes, sock sucking portal!

How not to be elegant....

The flat has laminate floors, running for the phone whilst in socks is not a good idea. I made it down the hallway but my ability to break was severely hindered. So I slid past the doorway while cooly and elegantly yelling 'Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!'.

I am so poised.

Plus, why is it that whenever I add links, part of my template disappears andI have to republish the whole blog with a new template. Answers on a postcard please.

An eventful yet strangely frustrating weekend

On Saturday I took myself out for a marathon shopping session on Oxford Street which was actually quite successful. I even bought CDs for the first time in about two years! Go buy Damien Rice's 'O', it's just gorgeous.

I also journeyed to Knightsbridge to visit the shopping meccah of Harrods, to get my grandparents' Christmas present. I can quite safely say it will be a cold day in hell before I return, I don't have anything against Harrods itself and the staff were all very helpful. But the sheer number of people in there, especially the food hall. I finally managed tograb what I wanted, including some fab skincare stuff from Clinique which came with a big bag of free goodies.

Yesterday, my parents and sister came to visit but we spent most of the day trying (unsuccessfully) to set up the Wi-Fi broadband system in the flat. Looks as if we'll be getting the professionals in.

In other news, I am now a stunning brunette in style of Renee Zellweger. :P

I am a heretic bound for the City of Dis apparently, ho hum.

b>The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Moderate
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Extreme
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test

I am probably the only person you'll meet...

who would think it normal to drag four heavy file boxes to the printers whilst wearing a skirt and satin shoes.

There is no excuse for poor fashion! Except for that wonderful commuter look of suit/office wear with trainers. I have been known to sport this on many occasions.

I am what my friend Rachel would probably term 'a magic person'. Meaning I do things that others consider (and quite certainly are) barmy as hell but do not seem to notice. See previous post on forgotten phones and late night phone box SMSing.

Broadband is now in the pipeline, oh the excitement. It's as if it's nearly Christmas! Mind you according to the majority of shops around here it already is. Even the small Iranian supermarket nearby has a full on 5th avenue style window display complete with at least 3 Father Christmas models.

Bizarre, but it has spurred me on to start my Christmas shopping. Watch out Oxford Street, I take no prisoners!!

I left my phone in work....

and all weekend I've felt cut off from the world. It's like losing a limb or something.

Ever tried to send a text message from a phone box in the dead of night? Scary as hell! I hate phone boxes and it was only because I had a majorly important message to send that I was there. Honest.

However, it all worked out fine and after a dismal start to Saturday (toaster ate my pop tart, frustrating shopping trip, mard arse bus driver and a whackto my elbow - God hates me sometimes, good job I'm an athiest) some friends and I went to watch the spectacular fireworks at Alexandra Palace.

The display was absolutely fantastic and even a seeing a scary drunken chav being held down by three men and carted away by about eight policemen, whilst his chav girlfriend screeched she was pregnant(she was about 14), couldn't dampen our spirits.

The hour it took us to walk the short distance to the tube station was slightly exasperating. Just grateful that I didn't have a car, there are probably still some drivers trying to get home even now!

The policeman directing traffic was reduced to giving continuous directions to Wood Green Tube - "Over the first roundabout, left at the next...."

Nobody listens and he was getting a bit pissed off. "Just follow everyone else!"

So, the Christmas lights are now up on Regent Street. After swearing I would not go shopping in Central London again until they come down, I've found that I really do need to go. Not just for Christmas presents, but also for a suitable outfit for out Christmas party. Not for us the traditional piss up and buffet. Ours is a full on dinner and dance at the Langham hotel on Portland Place, v posh.

So I need a nice dress to wear to get our posh piss up and sit down dinner. Oh dear, I can here my bank manager howling with dispair as we speak.

No sex in this city!

As a young single woman I reada worrying statistic the other day. Women out number men in London by something like 500, 000! They even have an acronym for girls like me - LOST girls which stands Living in London, On own, Single, Twentysomething. So I guess I'm one of the Lost Girls, as in you'll Never, Never Land a bloke.

Ah well, my Carrie Bradshaw style life will just have to be put on hold. Work is very busy anyway.

The other day my boss asked me to meet someone at the Park Lane Marriott, pick up a package and bring it to a meeting we were having. So the next morning I dutifuly sat in the lobby of this lovely hotel and waited for my 'contact'. I assumed she was staying in the hotel. At the appointed hour the lady in question walks in off the street says hello and hands me a carrier bag. We say goodbye, leave the hotel lobby and walk in opposite directions.

How dodgy must we have looked!!

The Saga Of The Fridge is also nearly at a satisfying conclusion, no spleen rending was necessary. The new fridge was delivered yesterday and so far it is working well, a man will apparently appear on Monday to fit it into place and remove the old one. So at the moment we have two fridges but very little space in the kitchen. But I can live with that if it means my yoghurts are at a sensible temperature. Muller Vitality should not give you an ice cream headache, it's just wrong!

BT calling

BT thought it would be funny to call at the flat this morning, at 8am! Oh the humanity. Poor fella had a helluva shock when confronted with two bleary-eyed girls in highly unattractive PJs. Ah well, serves him right for being so prompt.

Hopefully when I return home we will be on our way to broadband heaven. How I miss wasting my life on MSN.

Had a relatively successful shopping trip to Oxford Street on Saturday. By success I mean I made it home in one piece! My poor debit card is still recovering however. Christmas lights were going up on Bond Street, so it should be safe to go shopping in Central London in about, hmmm, March.

However, The Saga Of The Fridge continues. If it is not in place by tomorrow then there will be blood and death! Fear me Whirlpool! Is it possible to reach down a phoneline and rip out someone's spleen? I will no doubt test this theory tomorrow.