The problem with blogging, is one sets a standard. And sometimes it's hard to maintain. In the case of puspie, it's a voyage around metropolitan life. But life's been dull as ditchwater this past month. I've been writing. And continue to do so. And I've had two commissions. Which is great. But socially, I've been a homebird. Hence the intermittent entries. On Saturday, I made chicken and leek pie for twelve. It was a fab evening, but dry. Because four of the twelve were lawyers. I do find legal people, particularly those at the bar, so up themselves. In the nicest sense, of course;-) There's no room for a bit of slapstick or playful banter. I wonder if the focusing on small-print makes even small-talk appear complex? So the lightest of remarks becomes loaded with meaning? That said, the last guest left at four. After I'd done an extra-curricular three hours as agony aunt. "Your problem is intimacy," I told her. "You're scared of it." Her face lit up. "That's it! What should I do?" "Shag him," I replied. The previous night, I'd gone out with my godson and his IBM cronies. Dull dull dull. Even when drunk. Worse than lawyers! I slipped off early for some bevvies with a young Aussie of my acquaintance. And rolled home at two. A lot of late nights. And still no gossip. This evening, I'm off to a women-in-public-policy-making networking event. Which promises to be lively. Thankfully, the diary is far more interesting in Feb. Normal blogging resumes:-)
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
The problem with blogging, is one sets a standard. And sometimes it's hard to maintain. In the case of puspie, it's a voyage around metropolitan life. But life's been dull as ditchwater this past month. I've been writing. And continue to do so. And I've had two commissions. Which is great. But socially, I've been a homebird. Hence the intermittent entries. On Saturday, I made chicken and leek pie for twelve. It was a fab evening, but dry. Because four of the twelve were lawyers. I do find legal people, particularly those at the bar, so up themselves. In the nicest sense, of course;-) There's no room for a bit of slapstick or playful banter. I wonder if the focusing on small-print makes even small-talk appear complex? So the lightest of remarks becomes loaded with meaning? That said, the last guest left at four. After I'd done an extra-curricular three hours as agony aunt. "Your problem is intimacy," I told her. "You're scared of it." Her face lit up. "That's it! What should I do?" "Shag him," I replied. The previous night, I'd gone out with my godson and his IBM cronies. Dull dull dull. Even when drunk. Worse than lawyers! I slipped off early for some bevvies with a young Aussie of my acquaintance. And rolled home at two. A lot of late nights. And still no gossip. This evening, I'm off to a women-in-public-policy-making networking event. Which promises to be lively. Thankfully, the diary is far more interesting in Feb. Normal blogging resumes:-)
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5 comments:
Hey, Puspie, not every lawyer is a dullard! (But let's be honest, most are!) And have you ever tried making conversation with accountants - my God, they're weird!
I may test you on that, Spymum;-) As for accountants, I employed my first after meeting him at the bar of Les Elites discotheque in the 1980s. I was investigated three times while under his care:-( Finally I moved. While he went off to Marbella for a week. He spent a week of every month there. The new lot were serious dullards, it must be said. They charged twice as much. But they were legit... My current accountant was procured via the internet. The one time I rang, I discovered he still lived with his mum. Hmmmm. What am I trying to say here? Weird. Yes, that's it... I have just returned from an excellent networking event and my bloody eye has started tearing again. Eyoop:-)
You could be sued you know. My life is dull because I am a major diet bore, and all the lovely Tatler type parties must pass me by as I have to resist the champagne by not being in the same room or possibly county as it.
Hodmandod (old English for Snail) is Josa by the way.
What a fantastic word. Makes one view the snail quite differently. Though, I suppose, after a while, one would find a hodmandod just as unappetising as a snail. If you get my drift. Unless of a Gallic persuasion. But I mustn't mention garlic butter in case it sets you off:-o That said, I'm very admiring of dieters. We are being healthy here, but I just went out for a Thai lunch:-o No pudding though!!
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