In anything.

Then I saw yesterday that he’s reversing the ban on stem cell research and calling a halt on the oil drilling in Alaska and wonder if I could, in some way, have his babies.*

This rush of enthusiasm may not last as far as him actually getting to the White House but I’m quite enjoying feeling hopeful about what a politician will achieve. I’ve not felt so positive about a President since Jed Bartlett.

The downside, of course, is Buffy the Moose Slayer thinking she can beat him next time if she just starts running now. Sweetie, not even if you tied his shoelaces together and took the bus.

*that would be future seed of his loins, not anything Gary-Glitter-style to do with his current offspring. Just so we’re clear.

Scarily, I did. Mother keeps me up to date with all the latest from the old home town, most of it depressing. I was expecting a story about treacherous adultery or painful disease.

“well, she was asking for you the other day. Says you really have to get together and do something next year”

This was a bit out of the blue. Clearly, as a woman, my old schoolmate would have struggled to resist my charms but like so many of the women in my life, she had managed up until now.

“what with it being twenty years since you left school”

Ouch.

“the … um … rack over there.”

“hmmm. I’ll have to ask the supervisor. One moment, sir”

I blinked and pondered again.

“Really? I mean, it’s usually straight-forward. I hand you a pack of batteries and some money, you keep the money and give me back the batteries. If it helps, I don’t need to give you the batteries?”

“One moment, sir”

Shopping is usually To Be Avoided but as I required a new ironing board, I had no choice. When I bought a new kettle, I discovered a surprising problem. They are all essentially the same - cold water in, boiling water out - but you have to choose one and only one, so what criteria do you use? If you’re me, you fall for the hype - count the features and pick the biggest number, even though I have no use for any feature beyond the Boiling Water one. I ended up with a kettle that provides mood lighting for the kitchen. This is only really effective when the kitchen is dark i.e. when I’m not in it. I feel guilty leaving it on just for the cats to enjoy the pretty colours and so it’s an almost entirely redundant “feature”. Is something still a Feature if you don’t want it?

Choosing an ironing board proved even harder. I need it to be flat and a bit spongy. In many ways, a plank with a towel over it would be ideal. Fiona helpfully talked me through the options.

“You’ll need a taller one”

“Er … ?”

“So you don’t have to bend over so far. It’s better for your back. And it could do with being wider.”

“Um … ?”

“So you can do more at once”

“Ah. Oooo what’s THAT? Do I need one of those?”

“No. That’s a steam generator.”

“Doesn’t my iron generate steam?”

“No… well, yes…. but… look, you DON’T need one”

“But … the shiny?”

“shush”

Off we went to Argos, filled in the form with the bookie-size pens and went to the counter. On the way, I spotted the aforementioned batteries.

“That’s fine, sir. I’ll just ring that through for you”

“Excellent. So can I have the … where are you going?”

“I’ll just need to check in the back. One moment, sir”

“For WHAT, exactly? You’ve got my batteries in your HAND!”

“One moment, sir.”

Finally getting home, I went Iron Crazy. I gots the flattest stuff you ever did see. I even ironed some hankies, just for the flatness.

The, in my opinion, unnecessarily three-dimensional cats have started shuffling nervously.

Having had the same dopey ponytail since I was 17, and seeing how impressed Fiona was with my return to a minimalist goatee beard, I’ve been wondering if it’s time for the Morrissey pompadour*, or the Stray Cats Quiff or something else entirely. Looking at this site it seems that even having buggger all hair isn’t a massive disadvantage. A bonus for someone of my advancing years.

Trouble is, a week after going to the goatee, I’m already looking at my face in a mirror and seeing Mr Potato-head looking back at me and wondering if I’ve done the right thing. And a beard only takes weeks to grow back.

It’s tough being a fashion victim.

*for the befuddled, a Pompadour is the big stick-y up flat top type affair sported by Moz, James Dean and all the hep cats in 1955. Not to be confused with a Pompier, which is a French fireman who has no business on the top of my head. Punchline left as an exercise for the reader.

-Back in employment again. No names, no pack drill but it’s in a shiny blue office in Salford and it’s all very “GO TEAM! WOO HOO” which, surprisingly, I’m quite enjoying, not least due to the regular free lunches and the free trip to a 5-star hotel.

-Bought a Bass Guitar which is quite possibly the best thing in the world which doesn’t have breasts. Following my guitar naming convention was tricky as I was running out of famous gorgeous Aussie women so it’s currently “sarafrombigbrother” which may or may not stick.

-Went to Cambridge Folk Festival and wanted to be Richard Hawley or Billy Bragg or both. Jane Asher’s Evil Twin has photos.

-Lots of trips to London for new-job training. Blinky Blonky Bloimey. Had hideous train journey where I was stuck outside Stoke for three hours because someone chained himself to the gantry over the rails. The obvious solution of 1000 fed up commuters throwing stones was disallowed and we had to wait for the police. They didn’t even WANT to throw stones so I’m not sure why we bothered to wait.

-Went Camping in Northumberland with Fiona. Got very wet, and very cold. Moved on.

- Started moving the house round. Well, not the house so much as the stuff in it but for all the upheaval, I might as well be.

Other than that, not a lot.

So, now that’s out of the way, normal rubbish will be resumed shortly

The prize goes to the one who told me Huddersfield was “2 or 3 miles West of Manchester”. Close but no cigar.

So for the sake of your sanity, I’m not saying much. When and if anything new or exciting happens, i’ll let y’all know

The title actually refers to the fact I am being made redundant for the third time.

Arse.

And I was just about getting my head round all the linux tools and such like.

“At least it’s Sunny”, you may say. Ah yes, but remember there is every chance I’ll have to be tootling around Manchester in a suit, trying not to be to sweaty when I arrive. Excellent.

Still, i’ve been letting my X-box skills slip and this might be the perfect opportunity for a refresher.

and what’s the one thing that keeps going through my head?

This.

If …oh, who am I kidding … WHEN you find this stuck in your head, it’s your own fault. You’ve been warned.

busy busy busy.

Looking at the weather reports, my next blog post may well be about a weekend staring out of a hotel window and a comparison of anoraks and wellies. Ho hum.

Any cat fans concerned about my pampered felines need not worry. One swift trip to Argos and I’ve set up an electronically timed gadget to release food at regular intervals. The cats were suspicious of the new toy at first but they’ve now realised that unlike the regular feeding device, it serves food at the same time every day regardless of what time they jump all over it during the night. They’ve also got Red Leader on speed dial in case of emergency.

Fiona started packing about a week ago, ticking off items on her going-away-list and sub-lists thereof. A level of organisation well beyond me. I thought everyone does what I do - grab a rucksack the night before and go through the essentials :-

- Socks/Pants/T-shirts - one per day (of each, I’m not Foreign or anything)
- Spare trousers
- Toothbrush (if you’re going with a bird)
- Comics/sweeties/music for train

Don’t they??