2009, Week 5

Monday morning we woke up to the most snow we've had in 18 years. For the whole week snow kept falling, freezing, and almost causing Jen and I to have a minor car crash. On Monday we both left work early (for safety reasons, obviously) and because the snow was still novel we made a frosty guitar hero, which was soon David to the Goliath that was built by some neighbours over the road. Being cosy inside when it's freezing outside is amazingly relaxing, and thanks to flexi-time I can leave and return home early, get in a sleeping bag and watch The Wire. By Wednesday we were both fed up of the snow wishing it would get back to good old miserable rainy february.


All week The Met Office were advising people not to make non-essential journeys. What the hell is a non-essential journey? Going to work isn't strictly essential, getting out of bed isn't essential, brushing my teeth isn't essential, washing at least a week isn't essential, well, you get my point. Simon at work pointed out that all week had been like that magical time between Christmas and New Years, when the office was only half-full and it didn't feel like you have to work at full capacity (or in other words, it felt that staring out of the window cheering on minor car crashes was a legitimate use of time).

My sister met Prince Harry, Neve Cambell and Matthew Lillard this week. She meets alot of legitimately famous people working in a leading costume hire shop in central london. To be honest I think she goes on about it too much. I saw Tim Vincent at a service station 4 years ago and you don't hear me going on about that! show off.

Kim and Sam got me a Munny for Christmas. My Munny's accessory was a Baseball bat, so I decided that the Munny had to be a Droog. Here he is. Don't fuck with him, he'll break your legs.


Jen's been doing some cooking this weekend and it's been tasty. First up an 'Onion Soup au Gratin' (Soup with cheese on toast on top to you and me), sounds weird, tastes lush. Then a chocolate beetroot cake. Apparently the beetroot makes the whole thing moist. Again, sound weird, tastes lush. Here's a picture of the chocolate cake being dominated by my naked Munny:


We decided to go see a potential wedding venue on Sunday - Leicester's Guild Hall. Despite the fact that the hall is a minute walk from the Shire's shopping centre, we'd never been past it before. More to the point, it's directly opposite Leicester's Cathedral, which we'd also never been to before. The hall is wonderful. Built in the 16th Century it looks almost untouched (apart from a neat visitors centre). Assuming it doesn't cost too much (which it shouldn't, as it's owned by the council), we've pretty much settled on it as our wedding venue. Also, a lovely hotel Jen found weeks ago for the reception is a minutes walk away, how good is that?




On the way back from Leicester it started snowing again so we decided to go up Beacon Hill and take some photos, here's a few:





CNPS : 14

2009, Week 1

2009 started as it did last year, a few people round ours (Becky, Matt & John), alcohol and the girls annihilating the boys on Sing Star (I blame everyone else, and the introduction of Sing Star Abba). Unlike last year, the party finished on the afternoon of the 2nd. As John and I were first up after the night before (not strictly true, I'm pretty sure I woke John up like an annoying kid on christmas morning) we decided to have a go on Gears of War 2 that I borrowed from my brother. We spent the morning on the sofa in sleeping bags, fully clothed. After Becky and Matt had gone, not wanting to upset the status quo we spent the next day and a half in sleeping bags playing GOW and watching a 3 hour IT Crowd Marathon. Best New Years Ever.

On Sunday we saw a preview of Slumdog Millionaire at Leicester Highcross's Showcase Cinema De Lux, thanks to the good people at www.seefilmfirst.com. As we were late we ended up on the front row (which thanks to De Lux's reclining chairs wasn't too bad). There was a couple with a small kid sitting next to us, who's kid kept trying to give her bottle to Jen thinking she was mummy. Normally I'd be annoyed, but hey it's free and it was actually quite funny seeing this kid run around without a care in the world whilst on screen [spoiler] slum kids were having their eyes destroyed by gang masters to increase their begging potential. It was a great film, melodramatic, but countered with gritty realism. Also, it had Paper Planes on the soundtrack, which is always a plus (although it didn't help save Pineapple Express from mediocrity). In fact, i'm not even sure how a kid got into a 15 rated film.

Over Christmas Jen and I were talking about the white stuff. Jen reckoned that it doesn't snow as much as when were kids. I countered (less eloquently then written, of course) that we romanticise memories of snow when were kids, and because of this these moments are permanently committed to memory. Snow was fun when you didn't have to drive expensive fragile sledges (cars), and when throwing an icy ball of pain at whomever you were with wouldn't cause serious rifts in the relationship. As if our omnipotent friend was trying to back me up the first day back to work was after a night of snow (As much I like God helping me prove a point, I can't help but think his messing around with a snow machine meant he really dropped the ball in Gaza)

We bought a new TV from Currys today, although we won't have till Wednesday. I've noticed that I've got into the habit of arguing with sales staff whatever i'm buying something of moderate value. I think I'm always in the right but I'm sure I come across as a bit of dick. Today it was over Curry's overpriced warrantee. Apparently because LCD TVs are new technology we don't know how long they'll last (These Colecos'll rust up on ya' like that!) and the normal manufacturing guarantee doesn't cover you if pixels fail (a half-truth, it will if more then x fail. In any case, if any fail out-of-the box, i'll just return the TV straight away using Curry's handy 21 day returns policy). Despite the half-truths and lies used to try and sell us the warrantee I politely declined. She responded with a look of disbelief, as if I've just shat on her sofa. She asked if i'm really sure I don't want their great warrantee. This set me off and I pointed the faults of her aforementioned reasons for buying their warrantee. I argued that I have accidental damage on my house cover anyway, so why purchase it again? She countered that I would have to pay an excess on home insurance, I countered that my home insurance excess was less then the cost of their overpriced cover. This went on for a few minutes whilst Jen stood there looking a bit embarrassed. The point was, it didn't get me anywhere, I'm pretty sure I didn't trigger some sort of sales epiphany: 'what an enlightening gentleman, I have seen the errors of my ways and will ensure that I'm 100% honest with any future customer, even if it means I cannot trick them into to buying our over-priced warrantee despite that fact I would get handsome reward'. So an extra new years resolution (taking the count to 4) is to stop getting into pointless arguments, I only come across as a self-righteous dick.

I've bought a fair few CDs this week. I had very little new music last year and as a result the stuff I did get was played to death. Some initial reactions: Santagold - Santagold, solid pop record, although I'm already fed up of the few tracks that have been played to death on adverts. Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles - Nice to hear something legitimately different, the chopped up vocals on opening track is awesome, although I was listening to it at work and freaked out for a few seconds when I was convinced I was played NES in the office. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes, Pitchfork's album of the year. This wasn't what I'd expected, very laid back, I can see it being a grower. Cut Copy - In Ghost Colours, Another Pitchfork pick and I really enjoyed it on first play. Sounding like LCD Soundsystem and Rapture with a careful measure of 80s (see Ladyhawke) I can see this becoming something of an obsession this year, if not a little throwaway (see Ladyhawke).