And so endeth another week...

Top 5 Fave's for the week ending the 8th:

1) The stupid conversations I have with Andrew - in particular trying to mime a sudden brilliant plan I had tonight of going to Freestyle Tout for dessert. Let me recreate the madness...

So to get the ball rolling, I introduced him to the fact I may have had a cunning plan! This involved Andrew's favourite "Kia eyes" (the explanation will take too long) and once hooked (I took the bemused frowning as encouragement), I followed this winner up with silly arm movements, to indicate my 'freestyling' dance. After guesses of Bollywood and serious psychiatric disorder - I had an inkling that I may be floundering alittle - so I tried to break it down into 'style' (involved pouting and puffed out chest?!) and.....well, there was no And, as I finally shouted FREESTYLES FOR DESSERT at his blank face. Needless to say he put me in my place straight away, "Why didn't you just mime swimming?"...hmm, damn my neglected Articulate practice.

2) Andrew/Jenisms:

• A: "The steak took 17.5 minutes, only turned it once, with 7 mins on the first side and about 9mins on the other" J: "Oh there's no 'about' it Andrew!".
• J: "Did you notice the echo?". Andrew looking quizzically at me over the table.."No". J: "Huh, huh, huhhh.. see that echo with the wine bottle". A: "Ah yes, another glass for you Mrs Morrison!". (nb: there was an echo with the empty wine bottle when you directed your voice at it!...good experiment should you get bored with your dining partner at the table!)
• A: "That pepper says best by 2002!". J: in supercilious scientist voice "Andrew pepper doesn't go off!" (my standard response to anything with a due-by date suggesting we should be dead by now).

Gold for Morrisons!

3) Sundays, relaxing ones (in this case with in-laws up the coast), where you finally get your spiritually starved souls to church in the morning and follow that up with some serious journalism - well, we searched for it in the Sunday papers for quite some time anyway! Then another good serve for the soul, in the form of Songs of Praise. Yes, you heard me admit it here first! I might as well go the whole hog and say that, not only am I a fan of Antique roadshow, but I do enjoy abit of Songs of Praise on the side! I'll search for the appropriate group to associate myself with on Facebook and truly come out of the vestment closet. I have to say there's something really nice about visiting (with Aled no less) historic churches from all over the beautiful English countryside, set to some well-sung hymns, to make you feel like it's Sunday! (put away those aghast expressions!)

4) Getting through presenting 3hrs worth of training on Quarantine Diseases and not blowing it! Even the curly questions I got from the participants didn't throw me too much (no I'm not 100% sure that the fungi found in Tuttenkhamen's tomb would be viable after 5000yrs!) nor the fact that some were nodding off right before my eyes!

5) The anticipation which gets you through the week because it's a LONG WEEKEND...need I say any more!


Thumbs down:

There not being four days to the long weekend, so you can fit in seeing friends AND the dreaded domestic duties!



NB - WATCH THIS SPACE for exciting news concerning a joint venture with a friend...
NNB - Actually it may not happen overnight, but it will happen! (we hope)
NNBB - aaah, that DOESN'T have any reference to babies!...well, not the obvious one you might think!

Long Weekend Part I: A good scrub up

Ah the long weekend draws to a fast close. It has been fun, frantic and friend filled. All of which are good...gooood as Andrew would say.

On Saturday I indulged my poor moisture-deprived skin in an hour and a half of self-indulgence care of a soon-to-expire 07 birthday voucher. Half-way into the pampering session, the beautician enquired about my beauty regime. Well, first of all I like a good splash of water, (rationing in mind always), followed by a scrub with my hands and a generous refresh with ....water. Obviously, no expense spared when it comes to my skin - I even throw in a good dollop of the finest home-brand soap money can buy, if I'm feeling particularly regime-minded. Needless to say, I should have seen that curve ball coming and neatly caught it instead of rushing in for a strike. Do I learn? No!

So with that gem of information gleaned, the beautician fell silent and proceeded to explore the ravaged surface of my enduring epidermis under bright UV. This providing what illumination of my facial terrain I do not know, but satisfied, she fell upon the cleanser. Apparently, from her exclamations, my poor stressed skin soaked up everything she could slap on from cleanser to exfoliant to putty filler. My "Indulgence Package" also included a surprising service - bursting blackheads. Now that was not written up in the advertising material!

Cleansed, exfoliated, depolluted and moisturised I emerged from the session nicely refreshed and relaxed. The new transformed me must surely have been transfixed by the plumpness of my collagen-toned skin, to have then fallen for the tried-and-true sales pitch at the door. Expecting this attempt to extract money after mention of a non-existent beauty regime I nevertheless succumbed! Do I ever learn? No! No! No more products!

This being said, I felt like Venus for the next half an hour with a spring in my step and a new sexiness in my stance. I was sure every eye in the Myer centre must have seen the transformation. That, or they spotted the remanants of eyelash tint under my eye that no amount of scrubbing could remove - I believe otherwise ofcourse, and it was instead a victory for feminity that simpering Saturday.

- cleanser used three days in row and counting....