I think this is a really good idea, although I’m sure there are many people who would disagree.

Is it meme as in ‘them’ or meme as in ‘game’?  I never know, having only ever seen this word written down.  Either way, Princesse has tagged me with this very exciting one and I’ve been looking forward to writing this post all weekend …

During the week, I carry a very boring black rucksack.  Princesse was right when she predicted that it would contain lots of SLT paperwork.  I won’t bore you by writing about that though.  Instead, I’ve decided to write about the contents of the bag I lugged around with me for most of the day yesterday.

I took a photo, but it didn’t do it justice, so I’m not including it here.  Perhaps I’ll try and take another one at some point.  The bag comes from Accessorize and is made from a brown suede-like material.  It looks small, but it’s amazing how much stuff I can fit in it - kind of like Mary Poppins. 

This is what was in it when I emptied out the contents yesterday evening …

Looks like a load of old junk, doesn’t it?!

Reading material

I met A. and E. for lunch at a restaurant near Swanley in Kent.  It was about a two hour journey door to door from Stratford, so I needed to take something to read on the tube and train. 

I don’t often buy newspapers during the week.  I tend to get my news fix from the internet, the (highly addictive) BBC News 24 or from reading the free newspapers on the tube.  However, I love buying a big, fat newpaper at the weekend.  I often buy The Guardian on Saturday, although I do find it a bit annoying sometimes.  Although I live in London, I hate the way it’s totally London-centric, and how, although they try to be a left-wing, all inclusive, right-on kind of publication, they often fail miserably.  (Nowhere is this more noticeable than in the ‘Family’ section of the paper, where yummy mummies write in for advice about finding retro swimming hats*, or whether or not to send little Rollo to the local comp or “go private”). 

Having said all that, I do quite like Weekend magazine.  Some of the articles are obscure, but there are often one or two interesting ones.  I also love the Q&A section at the front of the magazine, (where a famous person is interviewed), the Experience bit (where  a reader writes about an unusal experience they’ve had) and the Weekending section towards the end of the magazine (fashion, food, where to move to, gardening etc.). 

Also in my bag was a book in German (”P.S. I love you” by Cecelia Ahern).  I studied German at university, and I’m ashamed to say that I’ve become a little rusty recently … so I’m hoping that this book will get me back on track.

* You can get them in Harrods, apparently.

Make up

All this was in the little back pouch, just about visible in the first photo, above.  I hardly ever wear make-up to work.  It’s not that I don’t need it (I think I do!) - I just never have time to put it on.  Yesterday morning before going out, I didn’t have time either, so, I became one of those people that everyone hates and did my make-up on the train.  Luckily, my carriage was virtually empty, so I was able to beautify myself without too many people seeing.

I love the stuff in the silver tube - it’s a Body Shop rip-off of Yves Saint Laurent’s Touche Eclat, and is great for covering up bags under the eyes.  The little brown balls are a bronzer/ blusher thing and are also fab (also from The Body Shop).  Unfortunately I forgot my blusher brush yesterday, so it looked a bit crap when I put it on with a manky old tissue.

More stuff to beautify myself

I really can’t believe that all this stuff was in my bag …

Hand cream - couldn’t live without it.  I hate having dry hands.

Superdrug cleansing lotion.  Not sure how this got in, but it’s lovely stuff.  It’s really cheap, but smells gorgeous and leaves my skin feeling lovely! 

Wet Wipes/ paracetamol/ hair band/ tissues.  I’m not usually this organised.  I’m usually rummaging around in my coat pocket for a crusty old piece of loo roll if I need to wipe my nose. 

Contact Lenses case.  I don’t leave the house without it.  Well, I often forget it, so that’s not quite true, but it’s a nightmare if your contact lense falls out or you get something in your eye and your haven’t got anywhere to put the thing.  Anyone who wears contact lenses will empathise.

The important stuff (and some more crap)

My mum always jokes that I’m like the queen as I never carry any cash around with me: here I’ve a grand total of 46p.  (Thankfully, that’s where the similarity with her Maj ends:  I pay my taxes, and she …er …well … what is it she does again?).  My mum’s right, though.  I am very bad at remembering to get cash out of the machines and end up buying newspapers and pints of milk with my debit cards, which she finds hilarious.

Also, in this photo is my old phone (you may recall that my lovely Nokia was pinched the other day).  This phone doesn’t actually work, but it still has some people’s numbers on it, so it has come in handy.  There’s also my credit cards (definitely recommend First Direct), some receipts, some tickets from the Bluebell Railway, where I went with my nephew a few weeks ago, and some train tickets from my travels over the past few days.  Not sure where my keys were …

And finally …

Two tube maps.  Why two? 

An M&S brochure.

The Dorothy Perkins gift card I was sent following the Green Slime Incident (still haven’t bought anything with it yet).

An empty chocolate peanuts and raisins packet.  Delicious and er … kind of healthy …

A random empty plastic cotton wool bag and, mysteriously, two tags from clothes I bought a while ago.

*******************

And that, my friends, is it.  I am shocked that I had so much stuff in such a small bag, and think I might need to have a clear out.

Now I believe it’s my turn to tag some other people.  Mathschick, Gastropunk, Mya, Uncle Norman, Soph, Brennig, and (the blogless) Pierre -what’s in your bags/ wallets?

Imagine for a moment that when you were 16, you had a penpal who you got on really well with (and who you had a bit of a crush on!).  You meet up, become really good friends and carry on writing to each other for a few more years.  After that you both go to uni, find other boyfriends/ girlfriends, and gradually stop writing to each other.  You lose touch until 2007, when through the magic of Facebook, penpal finds you again.  You start to poke each other and send each other messages.

Now, imagine you decide to do a Google search for this person (just to see what he’s been up to all these years), but rather than finding out where he works, or that he belongs to this or that group/club or whatever, you stumble upon something quite shocking.  Something that a former school ‘mate’ has written about him; a personal and very spiteful attack …

You wonder whether he has seen it, and what you should do.  Should you tell him about it?  What if he has seen it and is embarrassed when you mention it? 

Or should you say nothing and risk other people stumbling across the same malicious gossip?

What would you do?

I came across this website when I was surfing the net the other day. 

Ed Chapman is a mosaic artist who makes portraits of people.  This guy is mega-talented and I was so impressed by his work. 

Imagine being able to create something as accurate and impressive as this:

or this:

using bits of tile …

Just thought I’d share … 

I’ve become increasingly bored with Facebook over the last few weeks, and have realised that it has very little to offer me.  I occasionally send a load of fish or flowers to someone, or get poked by a ‘friend’ who I haven’t seen for a few years, but generally that’s it.  Maybe some people use it to keep in contact with others … but since you need to have an e-mail address to be on Facebook in the fist place, I wonder why they don’t just use that and cut out the middleman. 

The most intriguing element of Facebook is being able to look up people from your past.  I wrote a post a while back about a horrible ex-boyfriend who contacted me several times via Facebook.  I ignored his pokes and messages and found the whole thing a bit odd.

Recently though, I had a dilemma.  In a moment of internet ennui, I did a search on Facebook and came across N., an ex from university.

From time to time, when looking through old photos, or reading old letters, I have thought about contacting him.  Not because I would want anything to happen between us; not even sure why really.  Maybe just to know that he is OK;  or because it would be strange to live to 80 and not have seen someone I once cared about for 60 years.

I got as far as writing a short message … but cancelled at the last minute.  What would contacting him actually achieve?  Would he find it just as strange as I did when I received a message from Mr Long Snot?  I’d feel really crap if he ignored my message and wouldn’t want him to think I still had feelings for him.  Those kind of feelings, anyway.

Maybe some things just need to stay in the past.

It was in Waterstones in Gower Street, near UCL.  He was there signing copies of his new book “An Irish Eye”, and I was in awe at meeting such a famous and influential man.  I didn’t know what to say to him apart from “fine”, when he asked “how’re you doing?”, and “it’s for my friend,  X” as I handed him the book to sign.  He looked older than I had expected.  He was polite, charismatic and softly spoken. 

The book signing was a very quiet affair - other than the burly security guards (IRA men?) surrounding him, of course.  Funny how he is now able to sit in the centre of London and sign copies of his book, whereas when I was growing up, his voice wasn’t even allowed to be broadcast on TV.  How things have changed - for the better, of course.

I bought this last weekend, in the vain hope it would help tone my not-very-toned stomach. 

Unfortunately there was no instruction leaflet with it … and sitting on it watching Coronation Street and eating biscuits doesn’t seem to be having the desired effect.

Any suggestions?

Inspired by the title of Mya’s last post, I’ve decided to write a list of all the things that have been on my mental ‘to do’ list for a while now.  Perhaps writing them down will make me get off my fat arse and actually do something about them …

1. Decide which laptop to buy; go to shops to try it out; buy it.

2. Decide which vacuum cleaner to buy; buy it.

3. Put old vacuum cleaner on freecycle/ ebay.

4. Write letter to current employer about something that I should have written to them about ages ago.

5. Chase up my missing P45 and send it on to appropriate person.

6. Send back exit questionnaire to old employer. 

7. Decide whether I  really do want/ need a car.  If yes, decide which one and start working out how the hell I could afford it.

8. Clean out the fridge.

9. Write letter of complaint to TalkTalk.

10. Buy new clothes.

11. Transfer credit card balance to new credit card with lower interest rate.

12. Decide what to do with the rest of my life.

Suggestions for 1, 2, 7 and 12 very welcome. 

I think that’ll keep me busy for the rest of the day.

Lovely readers,

Please allow me to introduce you to my very good friend Maths Chick, who I have known since I was about 13, and who is one of the few people in the ‘real world’ I’ve told about my blog.

She’s just started her own blog over at mathschick.wordpress.com and would love you to visit her site.

Just remember though, if she says anything about me snogging R. at A.’s party after one too many Malibu and Appletizes, or making pretend vomit out of Wotsits to gross out the dinner ladies, it’s all lies.

Dear Mr Thatcher,

How can your broadband service possibly be ‘free’ if it costs 20p a day? Are you telling porkies? (Go on, you can tell me!)

Lots of love,

from

Stratford Girl

xx