Posh nosh

I am going doolally with all the socialising this christmas. There are still 5 days to go and I'm already looking forward to the bit afterwards where I don't have to do anything apart from work out where we are going to put all Sadie's new toys and how to get the goose fat off the roasting pan (to keep for gold dust roasted potatoes of course). Been up to London over the last 24 hours for dinner at Andy's brother's. We ate snails and foie gras and drank expensive red wine. I love going up to visit them despite travelling on a train with a hyperactive four year old. It's like going to a very exclusive French restaurant, only we don't have to pay and we get hugs from the hosts. It's Andy's birthday today and I took him for a delicious meal at Graze, on Western Road in Hove. I had celery, apple and chestnut soup followed by pork belly, black pudding and cassoulet. Andy can't remember what he had but he says it was good, and asks why am I writing all this down anyway- who is interested in what we had for lunch? Anyway Graze is bloody great and they do a lunchtime deal which means we ate in style for almost nowt. I'm off to bed early as I need to replenish my body before my big run on Saturday. Rebs has assured me that she runs like she's walking (as opposed to me who runs, walks a bit, runs, walks a bit, etc) so I think we will have a right laugh at ourselves and our uncoordinated techniques, and then feel very smug afterwards that we gave it all a go.

Today was bloody freezing but I was catapulted back to a time when I was very hot. An Indian woman from the school invited Sadie and I over to her house this afternoon for samosas and pakora. She treated me like a goddess, serving me chi and yummy food. It was heaven, and reminded me of our trip to India last winter when we befriended a Goan family who invited us over for a meal. They made us a feast and didn't eat themselves- finding pleasure in watching us enjoy their food. Elveena is a lovely woman, and has invited us back one day for more gorging and interesting chat. I was reminded how friendly and welcoming Indian people are. It's very refreshing when you're used to stiff englishness and awkwardness. They have only been here a few months, having moved from Delhi, and I wondered if I was her first english guest. I was glad to have been to her birth land and be able to understand her culture a little. Even though I found Delhi actually a bit of a nightmare when we travelled India (we were with a four year old with delhi-belly after all), I could now appreciate having been to such a different place.

It's my party and I'll dance to Europe if I want to

Well the party is over and I can tell it was a good one as after 48 hours my hands are still shaking, and the evidence of the fun had is shown in the last CD in the CD player being the Daily Mail's '80s Rock Classics'. I do recall, as my "little" brother (Ok so he's a 6ft accountant but he's still my younger) was escorted home by one of my saucy single mum friends from the school at 5am, 'Final Countdown' playing and me, in my Sexy Santa costume (someone said I looked like an Ann Summers window display- well if you can't dress like a slut at your own party when can you?), dancing about with a glass of flat champagne in my hand.
My black eye caused great controversy at the social gathering, with many dirty looks being directed at poor Andy. One of my friends was so sympathetic that she subconsciously caused herself to get a replica shiner on the same eye, when playing mini golf with her son yesterday. At the school gates this morning we resembled the Kray twins. (see photo of us in the wars)
Just received my favourite Christmas greeting EVER from the lovely Caroline and her brood- see http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1386057184... it's hilarious!

Christmas is dangerous

God I am such a perfectionist at Christmas- it's a bit sad and very scary. I've finished my present buying, wrapped them and put them under the tree, I've re-filmed my child's nativity play and it's faultless, the decorations are all up, I've made tomato chilli chutney for all my family, I've sent EVERYONE I know cards, I've prepped all the food for making canapes at my party on Saturday, I've menu planned for Christmas day, and booked all the pantos and carol services any small child would need to get their deserved amount of festive joy ("enough already" you all cry. See- told you I was mad about this time of year). But now Christmas has bitten back to make me stop being such a sad arse. There I was, pottering and faffing about making everything "just so" on the mantelpeice, ready for Saturday's "crowd" of party goers, when the heaviest and spikiest decoration (apart from our 9ft tree) fell on my face. It really, really hurt and now I have a corker of a black eye. Oh how I cried and then laughed hysterically at myself. So now I've stopped my flapping and am supping some nice red wine to wind me down. And yey- The Street is on tonight!
P.S. If anyone's interested and following my academic career- I did manage to complete my first assignment last week despite all the sleeping and bleeding it was causing me...

Soundtrack: Kate Nash-Dickhead

All I want for Christmas.... is a decent video of my child in her first nativity

Just been to Sadie's first Nativity Play. Poor little love. She was right down there in the role of a "townsperson", sat at the side, her costume was brown winter clothing and daddy arrived late for the show so had to stand right at the back meaning the video we have of her first school play is shite and shows the back of a dad's head (one who arrived on time as he has a seat at the front), topped off with Sadie's woolly hat poking out somewhere in the background. Occasionally you can see her nose. I sat at the side and saw her singing beautifully. Luckily it's on again tomorrow so I've bought another ticket to get a proper recording. She took not being Mary, an angel or a star very well I thought, and despite usually having an aversion to anything but the colour pink, was happy to wear muddy tones. I am very proud of her. At least next year she can't feel disappointed in whatever role they give her. "Townsperson" is about as bad as it gets- even sheep or donkey is better.

Annie revelations and aching lungs

I have only just realised why I wasn't allowed to watch the musical 'Annie' when I was a nipper.... we watched it yesterday with Sadie and it all made sense. On the one hand, my parents are strict Catholics and 'Annie' is in fact a rather saucy production which I'm sure my mother wouldn't approve of. I can't tell you how many female gussets were flashed but there were plenty. On the other hand, we were always allowed to watch 'Carry On' films and Benny Hill, so I think my second theory is correct: they were probably being sensitive, as I am a cheeky ginger lass who's mum adopted me at birth, and Annie is a cheeky ginger lass whose parents abandoned her at birth, ends up living in a stinking orphanage and then later discovers her real parents are dead. Yes- it all makes perfect sense now as to why I was never exposed to this film. Glad I have now watched it as it's a classic- Sadie has been singing 'Tomorrow' ever since. And luckily, I have since found out that my birth mother is alive and well. In fact we're going to visit her this Christmas, for the third year running.As for my natural dad; he might be alive, but if he is he's well into his 70s by now and is married with at least three children in their early fifties, and might not appreciate me turning up out of the blue, resembling the one night stand he had back in 1976.
So, like Annie, my story had a happy ending too, although I wasn't lucky enough to have a big party with fireworks spelling out my name in the sky.
Just been for a mile run along seafront and nearly died. First time I've run since I had head cold and I am so out of practice- only 2 weeks until I've got to do 5 miles!!! Jesus. It's now an hour since I got back from run and I'm still bright purple.

Soundtrack: Elastica-Annie

Explosion over breakfast

Warning: do not violently sneeze whilst eating shredded wheat.