Here’s the recent round-up:

Workwise, things are going ok. The cleaning job is a pain in the ass (or literally, ‘the back’)…especially because the mobile supervisor dislikes me and has put me on probation.

Of course, my ego will not permit me to get fired from a cleaning job, so I’m a bit ruffled about the feathers. I want to get in her face about it, but I will go with the ‘kill her with kindness’ approach, as I always do. Though it’s difficult because I’m really getting to despise her.

So I’ve been minding my P’s and Q’s at work; so much so that when I went to ye olde pub to visit my ‘Da’ the other day, I refused no less than 10 offers for a drink. That’s some amount of restraint, people. Recognise.

No word on any marketing/PR jobs. I still think I’m being edged out by a) experience and b) timing. But I keep pushing ahead and trusting that by the law of averages it will be my time soon.

Things on the home front are going well. It’s amazing how much more cheerful me and Kev are now that we’ve got a little extra income. I even get to get my hair cut! Woo!

It. is. ridiculously. long.

But I am torn about whether I should go the whole hog and chop it all off, or if I’ve gotten attached to its length and just get it trimmed. Anyone have thoughts on that? Advice?

I’ve also kept walking every day to work, as I’ve mentioned in my Reeboks, but the other day, I couldn’t be bothered changing back into the shoes, so I ended up walking home in my crocs. Oh. The. Pain. My legs hurt so badly, I had to do stretches when I got home. I will now never choose laziness over fitness when it comes to changing my shoes after work. Yowsa!

So that’s the news on the homefront for now. Sorry I’ve been absent; I’ll be back soon. Promise.

I feel sometimes like the Goodwill Ambassador for Reebok lately. It’s not because I’ve been asked to, but I just can’t help telling everyone I know about these shoes. I’ve probably been boring the pants off people talking about it, but I love these shoes. This is a fact that I cannot deny.

There are a couple of ‘Get Fit While You Walk’ products out there right now. And I know that Reebok weren’t the first I’d ever heard of; but while (pre-Reebok) the idea of getting toned without any extra effort (i.e. going to the gym) appealed to me, the shoes were aesthetically unpleasing to me. Chunky, looked like platforms for trainers, ew ew ew.

When Reebok came out with their fine example, I finally thought, ‘Ok, that’s something I can get on board with.’ Financially, they were also appealing.

After several months in the States, loading up on my favourite junk foods and doing not much exercise at all, I reappeared back in Glasgow with a little more to love. And I didn’t make it my goal to lose weight because I thought I was overweight, I decided to lose weight because I couldn’t fit into my favourite clothes anymore.
I walk in my Easytones every day. I walk to work (about 1.2 miles) and I walk home. It doesn’t feel like I’m working out, read: it doesn’t hurt like a workout. Sometimes I feel it the next day, but it’s the satisfying ache in the muscles.

There are a couple of things that these shoes do for me which wouldn’t be on the brochure:

1. 1. First, they force me to walk correctly. After years of ballet training, I walk with a turnout. Basically, I walk like a duck. I’ve always done it, and it’s just habit. I’ve tried to break myself of this habit (because I think I look stoopid), but normally you wouldn’t notice if I didn’t point it out.
   Also, (again with the ballet training), I walk with my toe first, then heel. It’s the ‘graceful’ walk in dance that makes you seem like you’re light on your feet. It’s a terrible way to walk; the knees go first, that’s what I found out the hard way. But again with the habit and the training.
   So, my Reeboks correct that for me. It’s not possible to walk toe-to-heel in these shoes, and I don’t know what is that makes them correct my turned out feet, but it does.
2. 2. Secondly, they’re comfortable. I got a size larger than I normally wear, mainly because my size felt a bit too snug. I did think, at first trial, that they were going to be too hot. I imagined my feet sweating buckets and getting that unattractive wrinkled-toe effect. Um. Ew.
   But because of the mesh, you get a nice air-flow on your toes. I haven’t overheated yet, and am v pleased about that.
3. 3. Thirdly, they’re not ugly. Brilliant.
4. 4. So now the question that you want to ask me is: Do they work?
   The simple answer is: Yup!
   The more in-depth answer is that I have noticed that my upper thighs have got a wee curvature to them, that my bum is getting tighter (Kev noticed that right away). Do I think I’ll ever look like the girl in the advert? Probably not, but that’s due more to genetics than anything else. But I do feel better about myself, and yes (yes!) I fit into the jeans I couldn’t fit into back in January when I got back from the US.

After all of this, I’m not going to tell everyone to go out and buy them. You can if you want to. I know they work for me and I’m happy about that. I like them and I just wanted you to know.

I look at it.

I scrutinise it.

And then I shrug and walk away.

This means that instead of getting a pizza or chinese take away, or whatnot, Kev and I have been cooking meals at home. This is not only a money-saver, but also more healthy. As Kev and I love cooking, it’s not a chore by any means.

At the beginning of the year, Kev and I had a system of ordering our groceries online, without any fresh fruit or veg and would buy what we needed at our local veg shop on a daily basis. It worked well for us because we did not have to depend on a ‘picker’ from our grocery delivery to pack a slightly bruised set of tomatoes; we’d simply pick them out ourselves. And, as an added bonus, we’re supporting our local independent veg shop.

Recently, however, we turned to veg delivery with a company called Grow Wild who delivers a crate of veg to us every Friday. The cost is minimal, and the brilliant part is that we never know what we’re going to get.

Now, this may upset any plans we have for a planned special meal, but what it actually does is force us to find or invent new recipes with the veggies we’re given.

For instance, I made squash soup a couple of weeks back, that I doubt I would have ever made if I hadn’t been delivered a squash in my veg crate. It was beautiful and I look forward to another squash so I can make it again. The point being that I really enjoyed looking over the squash, and then pondering, planning and experimenting with it.

All of the veg comes to us fresh picked, the carrots in particular still covered with some dirt from where they were uprooted. Fresh fruit (apples, satsumas, oranges, and this week: a grapefruit!). Kev and I realised that we don’t eat nearly enough fresh fruit, so this was a way to encourage a more healthy eating habit.

I’ve made carrot cupcakes when I’ve got too many carrots; cabbage soup, banana muffins, everything. Last week we got some kiwis as well, so I made a fruit salad. Brill.

The positive points about Grow Wild is that we’re supporting our local farmers, supporting a local business, and they’re very relaxed and friendly. If ever we’re going to be away and don’t need a delivery, we just phone and they cancel it for the week. We can request additional items for our order on their website, including butter, eggs, etc. Even cheeses and lamb!

Do I recommend them? Hell yeah! I will never ever give them up. I even decided to forgo paying my mobile phone bill in order to keep the deliveries. Anyone who knows me, knows how much I love to use my phone, so the fact that I’m willing to give it up for a couple of weeks in exchange for fresh veg is really saying something.

Give them a try, and if you do, please let me know what you think.

P.S. If you’re looking for a good recipe, please check out BBC Good Food. Put the name of a veg in the search engine and it’ll churn out a bunch of different recipes. Plus you can save your favourites in a binder. I find it invaluable.
Disclaimer: I was not asked nor given any compensation for writing this review.

It was a lovely, non-traditional day and much more relaxed than most weddings I’ve attended.

Though I have to say that I was so happy for the couple that I didn’t cry once. I always cry at weddings (well, let’s be honest, some days I can conjure tears for no reason).

In fact, Ms. Kane (my date for the evening) even stared at me during the vows practically willing me to cry.

Then, she told me afterward how disappointed she was.

Funny, that didn’t even make me cry. Am I a robot?

The entire day was a bundle of fun; can’t really find any fault in getting married in a brewery anyhow. Everyone was gorgeous and as an added bonus I got to meet people I’ve only ever known on Twitter.

It was nice to put a face to the name and in some cases talk to someone who I knew on twitter and carry on a conversation before ever actually concluding that we already knew each other until after they’d left. Yeah, that’s a little embarrassing.

I had a great time chatting with new folk, including some countrywomen who came across the pond specifically for the event! Go girls!

In the end, I was successful in being merry, making friends, dancing and drinking.

I was, however, unsuccessful in getting a cupcake.

I am very sad about that. But still…no tears. Hrm.

I’ve been thinking about that site a lot lately. I miss it. I loved it. We were trendsetters. We were great. We reviewed everything. And it was fun.

So I was lamenting about the loss of HC Reviews the past few days, because I like it very much; not only writing the review itself, but also reading everyone else’s reviews. While I don’t have any plans to set up a new review site of my own, and wouldn’t mind contributing to someone else’s site, I have to find an outlet for the inner monologue I have continually running through my head about things. TV shows, movies, books, you name it.

So, it will be here. My reviews, I mean. And while I don’t get paid to write these reviews, it has become an internet trend for PR companies to get so-called ‘ordinary people’ to write a review of their product on their blog in exchange for a free trial of a product.

I don’t disagree with what some hard-core bloggers would label as ’selling out’. It is simply that the internet has once again given birth to a new kind of advertising.

Here are a couple of things that I would like to say first, before any of my reviews are published:

• 1. I will tell you at the beginning of the post if I’ve been asked to review or been given any sort of compensation. I may not tell you what it is, but I want you to know that I will not trade a good review for a product if I think that product isn’t worth buying. You can buy space on this blog, but what it says in that space is up to me and me alone.
• 2. I quite often like doing reviews of things off my own back. If something tickles me, or if I feel strongly enough about something to tell the world about it, then I will. I will also state, in the beginning of the post that I was not asked or given any compensation for it.

It’s worth noting here that there is no moral difference between numbers 1 and 2 in my eyes. This is my area of the internet; my opinion and will always continue to be so.

• 3. I won’t review anything that I don’t normally use. So if someone asks me to review a brand of nappies or climbing gear, then the answer is ‘No’ as I don’t have kids and don’t climb anything but a corporate ladder. If you want me to review a new brand of vegan mayonnaise, then that’s ok. But I’ll tell you up front that I’m not a vegan but I love mayonnaise, so it’s up to you.

So with all that being said, you can judge me or not for reviewing things here. I like reviewing and would do it anyway, but I just wanted to be up front with all of my readers about my personal and moral standards.

If you can appreciate that, then do read on.

• My head would explode
• I’d never post

The latter actually happened for a while, and I bet you missed me, didn’t you?

DIDN’T YOU?!

So it happened a couple weeks ago that I got offered part-time employment in a less than ideal industry. Well, I don’t want to sound like a snob when I say it was ‘less than ideal’. It was just something had never occurred to me to ever pursue. However, with my financial situation coming to a crisis point, it was necessary to dismount from my high horse (which wasn’t very high at all, more like a large pony) and face the fact that I needed to do something that would bring in money.

Kev came home one day and said, quite bluntly, ‘I may have found you some part time work pleasdon’tturnupyournose’.

I raised an eyebrow (or got about as close as I could to raising an eyebrow), ‘Yeah? What is it?’

There was an opening for a cleaner with the same firm who has the contract for his office. And, in fact, I did not turn up my nose at it. It’s actually ideal, as I only work 2 hours a night, have weekends off, and can listen to my ipod without talking to anybody. Plus the chances of me having to clean up sick in an office building are pretty slim (not like being at the pub which was a weekly occurrence).

So I said ‘Ok’ and started my new job last week.

I have to admit that the part of me that sits boldly astride her high horse (large pony) and turns up her nose thought about not telling you all about it; but I decided to go ahead an disclose for a couple of reasons, the main reason being that I can write interesting (if there are any) posts about adventures there. Much in the same way that working in a pub isn’t always interesting, it does have its moments.

I have also stopped cringing when I tell people what I do. I actually don’t really care anymore what people think about it. It’s money; I need it; and I want it.

So one bonus about this job occurred to me today; it means I can write, guilt-free. Part of the reason why I hadn’t been updating this blog, or working on fiction in general was because I felt that if I was going to write anything then it should be a cover letter or an application.

While there is still the need to write those things (because I don’t have any intention of being a cleaner forever), I don’t have to feel guilty about writing other things, and I no longer have to beat away The Muse with a stick every time she rears her head.

And maybe (she says with a Lone Ranger leap onto the large pony), everyone can find some comfort in knowing that even though some of us have a Masters degree, there are still toilets needing cleaned to get us through the economic kerfluffle in which we all now find ourselves.

But there’s this whole tip-toeing about; don’t piss anybody off. Today’s Assistant Technical Lackey is tomorrow’s Assistant Director. You know how it is…

I was back in the theatre over the weekend, and it was nice to be back on my old stomping ground. After being away from it for a few years, I was all nostalgic going back. Like when you visit the school you went to as a child. Everything seems so tiny.

Can’t say I was happy about all the changes they’d made; some were for the better, and the foyer has been seriously diminished in size due to their moving the box office out front. But generally, it was the same ole place.

And some things haven’t changed at all.

I stood at the busy bar, waiting to get served and I looked across the room and saw a friend I had been close with. I haven’t seen her in years, and we had been friendly back in the day. I was happy to see her, and wondered what she’d been up to. But not wanting to lose my place in the queue, I stood where I was.

I saw her vaguely spot me out of the corner of her eye. And I wondered if she’d come up to say hello. This is the theatre trick that everyone does sometimes…where you see what kind of friend someone is. You wait and see if they come up and talk to you first.

As I was waiting in the queue, I had no choice but to stay where I was, lest I lose my spot. So I stayed.

And this girl, this former friend of mine, saw me, and then carried on her conversation, presumably waiting for me to approach her.

[This is the theatre ego, and yes, I admit I am generalising here. It's all about attention and popularity. It's sheer ego. They thrive on it.]

But apparently, since I’m not in the theatre any longer, I am no longer important enough to talk to. However, having grown past all of the politics, I’m confident enough not to care.

I thought she was a friend. But I’m ambivalent about the scene. In a way I’m glad I know now, for I have better friends, real for whom I am grateful. And at least I don’t have to pretend. Not that I could if I wanted to.

You know how you meet someone and you instantly Click! and it’s as though you’ll never run out of things to talk about and omigodwhyhaventwemetbefore?!

We chatted along merrily; oblivious to everyone else and I learned that she has the exact job I’m looking for. Well, actually, she’s the boss that I want to work for.

So I briefly outlined the struggle of finding a job in her field; not too sentimental, and not too bitter. I kept it light and we discussed what I could do to increase my chances.

She told me some of the details of her job and went into specifics about a project she was working on.

‘You know what you could do?’ I chimed in, giving her my best ideas on the subject.

She looked at me wide-eyed and serious. ‘Why aren’t you working and making loads of money?’ she asked, astounded.

I just shrugged.

‘Not the right economy, I guess.’

A thousand times…

I’m sorry I didn’t send back the beautiful reply card.*

*I really did try to post the reply to you. I went to the post office twice this week and forgot to bring it with me both times. It’s really no excuse. I’m not lazy. I’m just forgetful.