Inspired by Dougaldutch’s mammoth 3-year plan I have made my own:

1) Eat pies
2) Try not to smoke
3) Go to the burn
4) Make a nest with Turtle
5) Eat more pies
6) Go to the burn
7) Give birth to a small terrapin
8) Feed it pies

Feeling giggly.....strange things afoot today.

1) This morning I found myself discussing the construction and wearing of pink tails with our database manager in the kitchen. (relative merits of fimo or coat hangers as a base construction to aid jaunty tail angle) I like this company. It’s full of people who really understand the vital importance of costuming.

2) BBC 2 have just emailed me to ask if they can use a picture of Turtle off my flickr in their “Russell Brand Look a Like” Gallery. Ha ha, I said yes of course. He’s going to be really pissed off.....

WTF?! Very strange indeed....stolen from Boo.

My husband has become obsessed with two fictional characters called Piggy McGoo and Duffy Molloy, Midwestern Americans at war over a small town. He makes up endless Cash style songs about them on his guitar and sings them at me while I relax in the bath with a charcoal face pack on.

That was Friday. Saturday saw us visiting Freud’s house - which is currently hosting Paranoia, a show which catalogues responses to 9.11 - and then watching Taxi Driver. A lovely Saturday spent gorging on fear, doubt & suspicion then. Fabulous.

Hels is back.

And we celebrated in newly sober style with a really, and I mean really, raucous game of badminton. Yes. Hels, Turtle and I went down the leisure centre and got all competitive. How the mighty have fallen. Perhaps most worrying was the fact that my husband started referring to himself as “Cockboy” during the session.

Also worrying is the revelation that Hels and Carla Parr are distant relations. Carla is also distant cousin of Amanda which means that three of my good friends are related but they have only found this out since they met. This island of ours is weird. I am probably related to Mr Turtle and not only by marriage.

I have given up smoking and with it goes drinking. I am clean as a whistle, virtuosity is my middle name. I smell good and feel bad. Getting up in the morning is a struggle. To compound the torture, I have just devoured Ham on Rye by Bukowski. Henry Chinaski is leading the life I secretly crave. By reading about it I can transport myself there.

The fact I gave up my last remaining vices at New Year does not mean that I give a great significance to that particular festival. It’s just that my New Year starts in a place where it is completely impossible to give up anything at all.

However, I start 2007 with a sensible aim: To be more like Jesus and Sarah Connor. By June I will be able to do 20 pull-ups and give everyone the love that they deserve. I will not dwell on hatred, bitterness, resentment or jealousy. I will be dignified, selfless & understanding and will radiate love whilst wielding an AK47 with grenades in my belt.

This, I feel, is an achievable aim.

Stolen from Boo and modified slightly - A year in review....

January

Whirlwind Romance

I am in love with Matt the Turtle in a way I didn't think possible. The whole thing is completely insane - cliches are relevant, nesting instincts are strong and perhaps, most shockingly, Westlife ballads make me well up and I like it. This is undoubtedly true love.

February

Show open

Right motherfuckers. I’m now back online after a strange museum dwelling existence in the world of high-end objects and sore feet.

My show has closed and I am very tired but pleased.

March

Whiskey

Hmmmm…

A big head cold again. Fair knocked me off my feet on Saturday so I had to spend the entirety of it in Turtle’s bed. Not such a bad thing. Incapacitation was nothing to do with the whisky consumed with relish on Friday. No.

April

Whiskey

Went to Bedrock on Friday by accident.

That filthy dingy hole below Oxford Street’s dingy filthy pavements.

May

Vodka

Random thoughts from the weekend:

I am too old to inhale microwaved vodka on a Saturday night as a leisure activity.

Porn is excellent.

June

Wedding bells

So my baby brother (now quite large and shouty admittedly) got married last weekend and it was one of the proudest moments of my life. It was joyous and tearful with an appropriately wonderful ceremony and a raucous reception.

July

World cup fever...

First weekend in London for about five months. So much to do and so many people to catch up with....

Spent it at home in the rat’s nest, vomiting violently and shivering with fever, due to a sickness bug picked up from Lucy’s kids.

August

Crafting and costuming

Mmmmmm.....The developing European Craft Scene. I never thought I'd say it but it's really very sexy...

September

Love and loss and more wedding bells

The desert challenged all my preconceptions once again.

This time it was preconceptions from the virgin Burn that were smashed. Some of my expectations of joy, community, sharing & love were broken down as the week went on.

October

Marital bliss

“sweetheart i've brought you a coffee"

"hate it"

"ill just leave it here"

"wah, i'm not getting up!!"

"darling..?"

"stupid...stupid furby!”

November

More marital bliss

Staring up the arse end of the week.

Fabulous stuff. Hello weekend.

December

kitten love and decom fun

So, this weekend, amongst other things I threw sardines out of the bathroom window for the neighbours' kitten, whom they had cruelly locked out in their yard. It was crying excessively, the poor little thing. If they do it again I shall steal it for my own and keep it in my room.


In short, it was a year of growth and learning, where magical things occured and hard lessons were learnt. May 2007 be a continuation of the former. Amen.