Find your tail

Went to the osteopath yesterday - this old guy whose been practicing for 35 years and is some kind of guru cos my other osteo referred me to him. Anyway, his advice for my bad back? 'Find your tail'.... Hm... Just find your tail. Lengthen it away from you. Imagine you're a kangaroo and have your tail to balance on. Um, right.
And then - Now close your eyes and imagine the table beneath you. How does the table feel? What is it trying to tell you? Eh? Uh, well my body is feeling supported?
No, no. How does the table feel? What's it doing? I uh, don't know. It's lying there? Like you know, a table? What energy is it producing in you? Geez, that's a tough one. So basically I make something up like it's uh tilted. And he's like yes, yes, it's tilted. What else? It's vibrating? Yes, let it vibrate. Let it move beneath you, let it push you from side to side till you settle back down. And there I'm thinking, should I have pressed some kind of button? I mean it's just a hard massage table, should it be doing something special? I tell you what though, the pillow on the table smelt like it'd been there for 35 years. I mean, OK so he put a sheet over it but still, like change the pillow once in a while. Anyway so this osteo tells me to go away and when I'm sitting to think of my tail. Hm, can't help but think I'd just put a wad of pound of notes in a blender then shoved them down the drain. Plus my back's still sore.

Toasted

I quite enjoy cooking but I have to admit feeling extremely lazy at times. Which is why my past few lunches have consisted of toast with a variety of interesting toppings like jam and banana. Yesterday's dinner was a sandwich from pret, the night before that was a pizza. I'm hankering for warm, tasty food but when you work from home you cant be bothered to cook anything resembling that for lunch. And I'm a bit over pasta, and so totally over pesto. Not a fan of the pesto at all at the mo. I got a can of beans in the cupboard... hmmmm. Toast it is then. Again.

Ratattack

I have a massive rodent fear - I dont know why i just do - which is a terrible affliction when you live in a city like London. Hello, I mean they did have the plague here for a reason - there's something like a billion rats in this city - well just about anyway.
Ever since the mice issue from my previous flat, I've been waiting for these critters to make an appearance in my new flat. At night I freak every time I hear a slight creak, I know they're down there, waiting, waiting till the day the come out and attack... Yeah OK, dont judge.
So there I am sitting in this private members media club, and it's all lovely and posh and they have these gold guilded chaise lounges scattered around the place. And I'm talking to these film producers when all of a sudden, there goes a mouse scuttling past our table and everyone sits there like it's nothing. And I'm in the middle of a sentence but my eye is just captivated by that stupid little mouse. But of course I just pretend i didn't see that hideous thing running past. Even though we all did. And I cant help but think that despite all its poshness, the place is just a bit grubby on the inside. Which is probably just about the perfect description for most of London. Everytime you watch an American version of London on TV it's all Big Bens and Buckingham Palace and Beefeaters, but they dont mention the Pigeons and rats and graffiti oh and the dogshit. Paris gets all the blame, but there's a lot of dogshit around as well. Aside from that, and the crowds and the pollution and the people who clip their nails on public transport (dont even get me started about that), its not so bad a place. Really. It's taken me a few years but I think I'm getting used to it. Finally.
And if it weren't for the mice, it may just about be well, not perfect by any means, but you know alright.

No More Takeaway Starbucks

Something about people who carry takeaway cups of Starbucks and walk around the street sipping from their plastic teats, just annoys me. I dont know why, it just does. And the strange, downright bizarre thing is that I'm one of those people. Well not all the time, some of the times anyway - mostly when I'm forced to take another office job to pay the bills and the only thing that's going to get my eyes open in the mornings is a hit of the caffeinated stuff. And normally the only coffee takeaway place in the vicinity of whichever hell hole I end up working in, is a fungus like Starbucks.
But in any case. It's not like I take pleasure in walking around, milling about the streets, staring into shop windows like I'm bloody Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's while I take tiny, luxurious sips of Multinational, non fair trade crud thats supposed to be coffee. And I've noticed that its mostly women who sip takeaway coffee, not that many men - why is that?
OK so maybe I'm being irrational. Maybe I should be more specific in my annoyance category - OK so it's basically women (cos 7 times out of 10 it's women who sip coffee from the teat of their take away cups) who wear gym gear, including obligatory hat like it's real sunny or something even though I cant remember the last time I saw that big golden globe in the sky, and look like they've just done pilates or had a private session with their personal trainers who they may or may not had an affair with, who are rushing home to their Notting Hill pad while sipping Starbucks that annoy me. AND if you happen to be sipping a cup of Starbucks, while on the tube, While reading the Da Vinci Code then you just make me SICK - could you be more part of the mass if you tried?
OK so I'm not saying that everyone has an organic, fair-trade coffee store around the corner from them (I have two - haha - aint life grand! :P), and I'm not saying we should be like the Italians by swallowing strong small cups of potent high-grade caffeine straight down the hatch while standing at the bar, all I'm asking is can't we spend a few minutes walking down the street without the need to be caffeinating ourselves? Are we in such a delirious, dazed state of mind that its the only thing that keeps us going? Hmm.... Yeah I think I know the answer to that..

Rib tickling

So I was watching the Oscars last night, while stuffing myself with Marks and Spencers choux pastry (It's no ordinary choux pastry...) and I noticed a trend on the red carpet. You are nobody but no body in Hollywood unless you have a xylophone chest. And I'm not talking just the odd bone sticking out - no sorry that won't cut it. You've got to have your entire rib cage poking through - we want to see lungs baby - enough so you can play your chest like an instrument rib by rib. Oh what a hollow sound it's sure to emanate. And then I thought, they may have their millions, and their fame, and look amazing in their ridiculously overpriced gowns (Charlize Theron boasted that her dress was flown first class from Paris! First class! Like, what? Did it have it's own seat? Did they serve it champagne? For such an ugly looking thing - I mean really what was with the bow - it seemed to have struck it pretty lucky)... Anyway for all that they have, they can't do one thing - and that is stuff their faces with custard and cream and chocolate all rolled into a rich pastry. It may not be much, but hey at least I got that over them. Suckers. Dont know what they're missing...