Terrifidactyl.

Burgers and Pictionary at the Court produced some memorable, if a little incoherent, quotations. I hereby refer to the notes scribbled on the fridge in sharpie pen.

* "Let's pretend he's pulling the bus"
* "Teabagging fiend"
* "I'm going to call my child Gandalf. His friends can call him Gandhi"
* "No more tongue please, sir"
* "Start at 9 o'clock." "Wait, one, two."
* "There's no Winston Churchill here, Jessica."

And the best chat-up line of all time? "I am Isambard Kingdom Brunel and you are the champion of the narrow gauge." Oh UCL boys.

Next on the Scawen Road agenda = homemade lasagna, Monty Python: Not the Messiah at cineworld and building up a repetoire of amazing dinosaur exclamations. Terrifidactyl. Supersaurus. It's a work in progress.

BANG!

End-of-term lethargy is setting in as the Easter holidays approach and consequently the main excitement this week centred around five Muller fruit corners for £1, planting sunflowers in the middle of the night and generally hiding in the house with Gabby. When I did venture out my days and nights involved handmade fabric dyes and a St. Patrick's Day shindig at Club Sandwich, which I enjoyed because of the chocolate dips and leaving before three and in spite of dancing like somebody's grandad. Mostly though it's been films, housework and baking the perfect ginger cake on Tuesday night. Today I'm going to break from this routine and go to Trafalgar Square to finger shoot people in a big slow-motion flash mob. Feel free to come along and die over-dramatically with me. Edit: We waited and we waited and the buses never came. So we waited some more and four buses came at once - but it was too late.

Inspiration.

One week today ♥ In creative writing I drew lots of skinny french boys waving flags and now, in the spirit of all things France and sleepy Friday evenings I'm going to curl up in my duvet and watch the Aristocats.

10%.

Pugs not drugs.

Twenty long minutes, one manic dash across a Lincoln platform, four trains, two books and five hours later I arrived home for the remainder of the weekend. On Sunday we drove down to Birmingham to watch Crufts at the NEC arena (jinx this time last year), which involved lots of dogs and family friends and Ben and Jerry's and pupcakes and presents for Cleo and for ourselves. I gave my mum a homemade card and a Cath Kidston book for Mother's day. Halfway through the evening show I saw my very first streaker (he was a professional, my research informs me) and during the Best in Show some ladies waved ineffectual signs and shouted things the audience couldn't hear. So we clapped and then we went home.

Today I'm back in London and my plans for the week involve enjoying the sunshine, natural dye workshop at the W.I., a fingers-crossed visit from Harry, finishing my cork-board for Alice's London project, buying film for my charity shop camera, brushing up my French and changing some Euros. It's just over ten days until Pariszeit and the only change to our itinerary is the addition of a visit to Shakespeare and Co. so that could do with some work too.

I was born in the '60s.

Sally's eighteenth birthday party began yesterday on the Lincoln train, as I spread out my sewing kit and attempted to make a hippie dress out of a ripped up playsuit and is winding down slowly as I type, with a big plate of sausages and bacon and My Girl. In between there were Beatnik costumes by Primark, champagne toasts in the hotel room, hair bands and wristbands, double measures on the tab, hippies and Elvi (the plural of Elvis?) and bright geometric swirls, squished Sally cakes, finger moustaches, Austin Powers dances, brotherly disgust, solitary taxi rides (plus lots of derogatory drunk comments and CPR advice), five-way spooning, 3 a.m. munchies, pillow fights and surreal conversations with Harry as he tried very hard not to fall asleep. "'We need to wash the robots' 'When we came out of the pyramid.'" Ha. The damage this morning = mysterious blood spots on the flagstones, drink spills on my new shoes, empty bottles in the sink and pizza crusts in the garden. Plus I'm not anticipating that the four-train train journey will be a whole lot of fun later today, but I am looking forward to seeing my mum tonight. Peace out.

There will be trains.

A title which has very little to do with the week gone by and a lot to do with all the trains that will ensue this weekend. I can't wait.

This week: Gabby bought a handful of spring-themed decorations and so we spent Saturday morning blowing up balloons and stringing the living room with flower-garlands in preparation for Jenny's birthday party, take one. Alice and I went to Tesco and I stalled for a long time in the alcohol section waiting for Harry to arrive (:)) After carrot cake and champagne we put on our 'Jenny's Birthday' tshirts (courtesy of Gabby's friends Jenny's Birthday) and went to the Auctioneer in Greenwich. Harry gave me money for the pub quiz machine and vodka with red bull to keep me awake. It didn't really work and I fell asleep halfway through Speed. Still don't know how she gets out of those handcuffs, dammit. On Sunday morning I dragged myself out of bed and onto a bus bound for Oxford Street. It was LOMOGRAPHY camera workshop day at the Goldsmiths W.I. and after a small slideshow and demonstration talk we were set free on Carnaby Street with blue&black plastic cameras in hand. It was a lovely sunny day and I took a few pictures out in the open air, but pretty soon our avid photography descended into Beyond Retro shopping and lunch at Bodean's. Normally I would offer to scan the end results, but due to the resultant poor lighting and my inability to remember whether or not I'd wound on the film I have a lot of grey and grainy 5.2x5.2cm squares and not a lot else. No wait, I lie. You may have a photo of a neon pig, if you would like? Still, it was a fun afternoon and I remain undeterred. I will buy myself a Diana F+ when my next loan comes through and my photos will be fabulously arty and beautiful.

This term must have soared by because soon it was Tuesday and I was off to Oxford to see Charlotte's end-of-term play, this time entitled Villainy! and starring Charlotte for all of two minutes :) In true OULES style it starred lots of vampires, Satan, vigilantes, superheroes, hallucinations, cult members and evil scientists as well as the usual sing-song qualities and I enjoyed myself greatly, despite Charlotte's limited (yet doubtlessly brilliant) contribution. It reminded me of Dr. Horrible's Sing-along Blog so we went back to David's room and I forced them to watch it ("A man's got to do..." has been embedded in my head ever since and I love Neil Patrick Harris forever). The next morning I ate David out of Muller Fruit Corners and when Charlotte finished her lectures for the day we walked into Oxford and did a little bit of shopping. We went to see the Steampunk exhibition at the Museum of the History of Science, but it had all but finished. Instead we wandered around and looked at the old astrology charts and the Victorian curiosities, etc. After a couple of coach calamities I went back to London and arrived back at no. eleven in the middle of Jenny's birthday celebrations, take two. So we went to transvestite night at a burlesque bar. Hum.

Today I have mismanaged most of the things I intended to do, meaning that I didn't get my hair cut, bought a floral playsuit rather than a Beatnik costume, walked twice as far as I ever needed to and missed A Single Man at the cinema. Instead I went to see Leap Year, which confirms every American or Irish stereotype there is going and made me cringe a little more than it made me smile. Now, I'm sat in the library finishing Goodbye to Berlin before the late-fine kicks in, hoping that somebody will lend me their sewing skills when I get home and starving myself because I'm too lazy to step back out into the cold.

Curiouser & Curiouser.

A Very Important Date. After months and weeks and days of tea parties and playing cards and pocket watches lurking in the windows of department stores and vintage boutiques, we're off to see Alice in Wonderland. I am quietly optimistic (Tim Burton, Johnny Depp, Stephen Fry, Alan Rickman's voice, what's not to like?) although I am not a fan of 3-D films. What with two pairs of glasses my two eyes = six eyes. Off with their heads.

Yesterday.

Alice and I left the house at half past twelve and set out for New Cross in search of Gabby. We took the 171 to Camberwell to see Art Bin, which is a '600m³ container for the disposal of works of art'. Read giant plastic box with lots of unloved paintings/ skinned penguins/ creepy monkeys inside. We watched as one art-girl took over ten minutes to decide upon the artistic placing of her blue ceramic bowl. I was driven to yell "Get on with it! Smash it against the wall!" but we left instead. Probably for the best. We are contemplating creating some shoddy artwork with the specific intention of throwing it into the art bin and when I do so I am going to dispose of it without a care in the world. We went to Wagamama in Covent Garden for lunch and for once I came very close to finishing my noodles :) Then we went to Fopp where we spent far too many £s between us. I bought films to make me extra excited about Paree. Gabby and Alice had work at six, so we went to the National Gallery cafe for afternoon tea, hot chocolate and toffee apple tart omnom.


At half past five I went to Lazy Oaf for the launch of their new shop. I was seventh in the queue for the longest time - fearing that a forty-three man mob would turn up at any minute and steal all the goody-bags - but it was absolutely worth it as I got into the shop before the majority of the crowds, grabbed myself a Kopparberg and a handful of Jelly Bellies and had a nice long look around the new stock (eyes on another Andrew Rae postcard book). The aforementioned goody bag was a mixture of badges, postcards, jelly beans, purses, tote bags and stickers and I was particularly pleased to note that the Groucho Marx design was among them.


I rounded off a good day with a trip to Cineworld to see Micmacs, which was a satirical take on the arms industry in true Jean-Pierre Jeunet style. I recommend you watch it, particularly if you enjoyed the revenge-the-Greengrocer scenes in Amelie :)

Space Race.

Yesterday Taylor sent me a link that made my day and now I'm waiting for a beautiful 'Tardis Sweet Tardis' pattern to land in my inbox. Hopefully, I'll have a new door plaque by the end of the week :) ♥ Craftzine.

On a completely unrelated note, please watch while I shamelessly plug myself to the masses. I'm running Race for Life again in June and this time, when I say running, I actually mean running. Major gulp. So, RACEFORLIFE? Thank you :)

Dewi Sant.

Spring is certainly trying its best to ruin Winter's never ending parade here in Londontown. There are tiny white snowdrops and pretty yellow and purple flowers poking their heads through in Deptford Park and today even the sun made a rare appearance on my way to university. This evening I bought daffodils (despite their non-existence in Sainsbury's and a rather paltry selection in Tesco) and made welsh cakes. Bar the first few disasters they turned out well and we ate them with butter when we sat down to watch Glee. Happy Saint David's Day everyone.