Chez Bruce- What's in my tummy

So then- birthday dinner at Chez Bruce last night was great. We sat right next to the cheese board and were treated to pungent cheesy whiffs every time a waiter wafted past....yummy.

This is what I consumed-

Aperitifs

X1 bottle of house champagne (shared of course)

To start

Rare roast beef, and some kind of mushroomy sauce with rocket and parmesan- extremely yummy and tender

For main

Sea bream with scallops, shrimp and teeny tiny gnocchi- very fishy indeedy

Accompanied by ½ bottle of extremely yummy Sancerre

For pudding

Warm chocolate fondant pudding with milk and honeycomb icecream- GOD DAMN!

Night cap

½ bottle of vintage port *feeling queesy now*

Morning

Horrendous hangover. Moderate humiliation as remembered I got home last night very drunk, had to get some fresh air, proceeded to sit in the garden on the funky plastic sofa chair (which must have suffered from torturous weathering and become very brittle) which promptly shattered into thousands of little pieces under the weight of my ginormous bottom. Was left on wet floor in glam silk dress with muddy bottom and dented pride surrounded by shards of white plastic. Thankfully not impaled.

Arrived in work to find massive, huge, wonderful bunch of flowers from amazing friend Dave complete with wildly inappropriate card about flossing my privates. Cheered me right up.

Have to leave work at 1pm to go to 24 club for an afternoon of champagne quaffing with new company for 'bonding' purposes.

May vomit if faced with prospect of more drinking.

Rock and roll.

The Birthday brat

Tonight is the beginning of the birthday festivities, or 'ali-day' as I call it.

There's a special song I sing to Steve on my birthday

'It's Ali, Ali-day
Do what I want
And do what I say
On Ali Ali-day
I always get my way'

You get the picture, basically, I'm a brat. It only really works on this one day of the year, the rest I'd be told very squarely to fuck right off by everyone, most of all Steve.

This year I have excelled myself in the birthday stakes. Tonight I'm being taken to my favourite restaurant Chez Bruce which you'll all have heard me bang on about a fair amount before. Tomorrow night I'm out with my housemates for a couple of drinks around Belsize and then off to see my mum for dinner out on Saturday night (much to S's disgust as he's missing football AND rugby- but, I reminded him of the poem above so he knows he's got no choice).

Then we've got the joint birthday party coming up, followed by 2 1/2 weeks in Thailand diving. And in hindsight somewhat cheekily I also asked for a present- this lovely handbag.

Sometimes when I get told I'm demanding and high maintenance I get genuinely offended. At those times I must remember to look back and re-read this post.

I am extremely lucky. And I know that what matters more than all of this is being loved, having wonderful friends, being happy and being made to laugh and in those respects I'm blessed.

I wonder if I could get away with asking for a matching wallet?

Jonathan's 30th

Today is my friend Jonathan’s 30th birthday and to mark the occasion, I thought I’d devote a little time on my posting today to him.

This is going to be fairly easy as this morning, in some bizarre turn of events, I found myself to be sitting opposite Jonathan’s body double on the Northern Line (give or take around a foot in terms of height- afraid the ‘doppel pips you Jonathan). I have mentioned this chap to Jonathan before and today thought I ought to try and take a photo of him to send over as a kind of freaky birthday greeting.

I carefully took my phone from my bag and switched on the camera, and pointed it in the doppel’s direction. I marvelled at the quirky combination of mismatching jacket and trousers, the dark combed forward and over hair and the heavy framed glasses. I took in what appeared to be a very worthy book title and it all fitted perfectly. It was a sign. I raised my phone pretending cunningly to text and the Jon-alike turned his head downwards so he was barely visible on my screen. He then looked up and no sooner had he done so, but a trendy tosser wearing a navy blue fitted jacket with the collar turned up stood in-between us.

As I left the train at Old Street I was sorely tempted to lunge at him for a final chance at the money shot, but decided that it might have appeared a little offensive and very difficult to explain in 0.2 seconds before the train pulled out of the station and rumbled towards Moorgate. I would have come across like some pervert up-skirter of the female variety- an upjacketer maybe.

The point is that the world could very well have imploded if I’d have sent Jonathan to Jonathan on Jonathan’s 30th, so it’s better that I didn’t.

And that, as they say, is all. Happy birthday Jonathan, you’re the best. xxx

The 30th bday

Ok, Ok, I’ve been slack of late with my blog, but I’ve been very busy and sometimes, I’m not close by to a PC….hard to believe I know.

This weekend went swimmingly well. Steve’s had a 30th Birthday to remember for many reasons, some suitable for the internet and some not, so a good mix of smut and sentimentality.

His main present was a portrait of his dad who died many years ago, drawn by the exceptionally talented (and very lovely) Ed Atkins from an aging picture I gave him. He obviously did a splendid job as Steve’s reaction was just as I’d anticipated. There was an initial quivering of the bottom lip, following by some tears. Of course I promptly burst into tears as well, so it’s a good job the gorgeous ink drawing was covered by the glass frame!

Apart from the present opening, we spent most of the weekend picnicing. Including a day in Richmond. A lovely choice of river side venue, perfect for drinking in the sun (and not at all down to my ongoing campaign that if I move in with Steve AKA- if we buy somewhere together, I will really only consider living here- the campaign is in it’s embryonic phase, but I think I made some in roads with the riverside drinking, the gorgeous village ‘green’ and the fab restaurants- I’ll keep you posted- obscene property prices are somewhat inhibitive).

Yesterday we lazed about all morning and spent all afternoon in Chez Bruce, my now favourite place to eat. Admittedly, I was battling a hangover, so there were some touch and go moments, one of which was when the baby squid arrived and looked more than just a little bit squirmy and wobbly. Thankfully it tasted lovely.

Over the weekend I was shocked but not altogether surprised (can that happen?) to discover the apparently widespread phenomenon of ‘vanity sizing’ which made me chuckle as I’m sooooo all over it.

Remember last week when I was banging on about my size 6 jeans from Gap? I was chuffed as I’ve never come close to a size 6 in my life and it appears I never ever will. Retailers such as Gap, River Island to name a few have been ‘outed’. It seems the labels they put on jeans and other clothes are more to massage our fragile egos than to actually remind us of our size. A size 12 in gap was in fact found to be some 3 inches larger than a ‘text book’ 12. I for one am all for it. If it makes us feel good, then long may it continue. The funny thing is, now I know this is the case, but I’m still chuffed with my size 6 jeans….I know. Vain.

This morning I got massively shat on by, well I assume by a pigeon. On my shoulder and dribbling down my arm…so life’s definitely about to get much better. Me and Lindsey might even find somewhere to live soon, you never know….

Laughed out loud!

I love it when something makes you laugh out loud at work. When this happens to me, it tends to actually be more of a 'snort' or a 'shriek'. The picture of the duck playing a piano from my post yesterday achieved a snort of sorts just moments ago. and everyone looks at you as if to say,

"Well you're clearly not doing ANY work"

And you feel slightly smug that you have friends that are soo amazing, they can make you snort from afar...and even smugger that you are clearly flouting all of your work responsibilities.

Yesterday I booked tickets to go to the Isle of Wight festival (8th, 9th, 10th, June). The line up looks pretty good, but then I do love my Snow Patrol. I can practically sense Jonathan and Dan shuddering and breaking out into a cold sweat. BUT, there are rumours of the Stones putting in an appearance this year, so surely that must be worth the £125. Anyone from Brighton fancy coming and slumming it for a few days?

Awww, come on! I'm not hardcore enough to do Glastonbury, and last year washing with baby wipes in 30 degrees was pushing my limits...but it is fun to be earthy for a couple of days and not worry about wearing make-up (apart from the obligatory eye liner, lip gloss, bronzer and eyebrow pencil of course....lets not be too silly!).

Can I just say that today is the official 'Ange-Fest' day, yes, it's Anita's birthday. I'm sure you all know anyway, but of course, texts with messages of love, good wishes, and happy returns wouldn't go a miss. I've done mine so can sleep easy tonight. I also bought her some GREAT soft porn to read in-between working so I'm maxed out on brownie points. Happy 30th Anita!