Can someone tell me what is the difference between filming and showing the execution of Saddam Hussein, and the filming and showing the execution of hostages that have been happening the last couple of years?

To someone who has no idea who each of the people involved is (and lets face it, in a couple of hundred years nobody is going to know or really care), they are exactly the same thing.

How can we purport to be better than these people, when we do exactly the same thing?

Not only have I decided to sort out my health (well, okay, that began months ago, but it’s the thought that counts) I have also decided to try and sort the house out a bit.

Like getting something to keep all my dvd’s, rather than piling them up on the floor.

Like sorting out all my books from boxes/floor/any flat surface and putting them onto my bookcases.

Like sorting out the spare room so I can put the bookcases in it *AND* be able to close the door.

Like emptying some boxes, so I have enough room for a proper wardrobe rather than the clothes rail that is standing crooked in the corner of my bedroom.

So, having checked it all out on the internet, I headed into Ikea.

Today, I was just going to buy two short book cases, to stand either side of the telly, on which to put my dvd’s and videos, and a desk which is smaller than this one, so I can move the pc to the alcove behind the door, thus allowing plenty of room for all my bookcases in here.

Well, that’s a good enough start, isn’t it?

Of course, even knowing exactly what I wanted, I still managed to spend another £40, obviously on absolute essentials which I am totally incapable of living without. Like 6 more wine glasses. Like two bathroom mats (well, I do have two bathrooms!). Like 4 square ‘oven to table dishes’ perfect for one portion, how did I manage without them before I don’t know. Like a new duvet cover. Like 3 more candles.

Then I got to the warehouse bit, and toddled off to get the two bookcases already decided upon.

That’s when I had to stop and think.

Ah.

That desk, it’s a bit big.

It’s far too big to fit into my car.

Phone was dug out of pocket.

“How busy are you going to be tomorrow? And which car are you in?”

“Um. I’m free in the late morning or evening. In the Scenic. Why?”

“The desk I want won’t fit in my boot!”

“There’s also tonight. I’m almost there.”

“Fancy a trip to ikea? I know exactly what I want, and where it is, I promise it will be (almost) painless.”

“Yeah, ok. When?”

Bless his little cotton socks, but Lionel, after unloading all his weekend stuff, then headed back out to meet me in Ikea (not even knowing where it was, or how to get there). After pulling up in the space next to me, we headed into the shop, where specified desk was purchased.

Item fitted nicely into his roomy car (with seats down), although I did have to prove to him that the opening to the boot of my car really wasn’t big enough to fit the desk into.

Then he followed me home, delivered deak, and in spite of my offer of dinner, headed straight back out again.

Shame it was to Halfords, to purchase a bulb for the headlight I had noticed wasn’t working.

But really, what a superstar!

1. Stupidly didn’t think about cats until it was too late, and all the local catteries were full.

2. Mom managed to find a cattery near Smalltown which had just had a cancelleation, which would take them both from Saturday to Wednesday.

3. Had to cancel hair appointment booked for Saturday, and instead bundle up two cats into their boxes, along with all the presents and clothes for the weekend into the car early morning, so I could be back in Smalltown for lunchtime.

4. Drove for 2 and half hours with one non stop howling pussy cat, and one letting out the odd mewl every 20 minutes of so.

5. Cattery was the best I have ever been to, the woman who ran it obviously loved her job, knew all the cats in there by name.

6. Family stuff - same old same old. At least the accordian didn’t come out (one Christmas my brother-in-law’s mother got her accordian out, and played songs which my mother, and my mother-in-law spent 4 hours singing along to - don’t anyone ever moan about repeats on the telly, God, repeats of the bloody lottery numbers would have been more fun).

7. Pick up cats - and bless them, when I went in, Madam must have heard my voice, because she was waiting at the door, purring like mad, even let me pick her up for a cuddle. Of course, Mister couldn’t care less, and saw the door opening as a reason to escape, and run up and down tormenting all the other cats in their cages.

8. Both cats have been extra cuddly, but I am amazed at how well they have been looked after. Often, when left in catteries there is a build up of fur, as they have not had much stroking. These two pussies have had a goodly amount of stroking over their time locked up.

9. Very concerned about nephew. Of course, nothing was said to me, and there was the usual having a go at him because he had a nap Christmas afternoon (”You are such a lazy sod.” “But I only had 5 hours sleep last night, and the night before…” “Well whose fault is that?”). Then, last night there I went round to my sisters. I asked after him, and she burst into tears. Apparently he is on anti-depressants, and instead of helping him deal with it, it seems her response is to cry. So, as well as the stress he is already under, we can add guilt on top of it. She, of course, is blaming the doctor for putting him on the tablets. I asked her what tablets he was on; she didn’t know. I asked her how long he was to be on them; she didn’t know. It was all I could do not to scream at her to deal with it, that it wasn’t all about her, it was about nephew, and she had to help him deal with it, not the other way around. I will ring him once he is back at uni - I guess out of all the family I am the only one who knows what he is going through, and can give him an ear. I feel a bit guilty, as he rang me a few weeks ago, and from what sis said it was about the time he was put on the tablets. But it was the day I got back from America, and I was so incredibly jet-lagged, I wasn’t making any sense at all. He wants to come visit me in February anyway, and I have promised to go and visit him. Get to the bottom of what the problem really is.

10. Back to work today. Have spent an incredibly geeky day, testing the effects of tiny little tweaks to code on run time and cpu time. Tomorrow I get to do it all over again!

A Christmas card from the ex, who I haven’t heard from since the text fight on 3rd June.

Two years ago he sent me the crappiest Christmas card ever - obviously one from the bottom of his all purpose box.

This year it is one he has gone out and bought specially.

Knocked me for six a bit.

I haven’t been well the last couple of days, just a cold.

But the thing about me having a cold is me having a temperature. And me having a temperature means me having *very* vivid dreams.

Some snapshots of the last couple of days -

• being in a stretch limo with LELI, and me promising to take him around Manhattan, but instead falling asleep with his arm around me while the car drove around
• being at some sort of museum, sort of like a large barn.
• might be part of the museum dream, but mother-in-law was there, as was a lot of old people, and discussion of her being with this other old bloke.
• definitely part of the above dream, the shitty ex. his brother and his brother’s wife all turned up, and were shouting at mother-in-law, and I found myself in the position of defending her, saying she was doing nothing wrong.some sort of battle, with people with long knives coming for me - made extra scary by my phone going off with the ‘Dr Who’ theme half way through.

Hopefully I can get a better night’s sleep tonight!

Well, I have never known two such well behaved pussies. My old cat, it used to take 2 of us 15 minutes at least to play “catch and force into the box”. It took me less than 5 minutes to get them both boxed up. It took longer to load them into the car than to get them into their respective boxes.

I was a little late getting their boosters (simply because I forgot, sorry Mosh), but apparently I have 6 months before I’d have to start again, rather than giving them a booster.

Having them wormed was the best bit - took 3 attempts to get the tablet into the back of Mister’s throat. Madam, bless her little mewling heart, only needed one attempt.

A little girl came up to me in the waiting room to tell me how beautiful my cats were.

She didn’t have to tell me. I already know.

To be honest, I am a little disappointed at how uneventful the trip was. I thought I’d at least have a scratch wound to be able to tell tales over, but not even a teeny tiny puncture hole.

Forgot this quote from LELI on Friday night.

Me - “Who’s that N is chatting up?”

LELI - “I don’t know, but she is ugly.”

Right. Say what you think LELI. I mean, don’t hold back, try to be kind about her.

I have finally got around to uploading some of my photographs here, so if you fancy seeing some pictures of LELI, my boys, Boston and other assorted pics, pop on over.

Of driving within the speed limit in the party season, and for taking a detour to see if the chip shop was open.

I have been to the pictures with LELI tonight (deja vu - very mildly entertaining, incredibly crap storyline, very little going on that is remotely believable), and after our usual hour chat, I drove home. I decided to see if the kebab shop was open, to get some chips (since my stomach had been non-stop rumbling while we’d been chatting).

I thought a car was following me, and when I went to see if the kebab shop was open, and could see that it wasn’t, I went the whole way round a roundabout. The same car followed me. Back up the road to the lights, waiting nicely, lights turn green and I accelerate away.

Blue flashing lights immediately behind me.

I pull over, and he pulls up behind me.

“Are you lost?” he asks me. “Erm, no, why?” “Well, you just went all the way around that roundabout.” “Well, yeah, I wanted to get some chips, but the shop was shut.” “Where have you been tonight, madam?” “Been to the pictures.” “Anything to drink at all?” “No, not tonight,” at this point rapidly trying to figure out how much I had drunk last night, and panicking in case there might still be traces in my blood. Stupid, I know, but I felt guilty, even though I had done nothing.

To be fair, I suppose it might have looked a bit odd, but he must have decided to follow me for some reason, he was definitely following me down towards the chip shop, before the suspicious activity of turning around a roundabout.

I wouldn’t have minded so much if I hadn’t come across so many pillocks, speeding (doing at least 50 in a 30), cutting me up and jumping traffic lights just minutes before.

Hey ho.

Second night of partying. Last night was new department Christmas do. Lots of vodka and wine drunk. New boss tells me not to order a new phone (too late) because I can now have one “for work”, and she is happy to authorise it, even though I don’t need one for work, and she is more than happy to pay the bills. Now she tells me.

I have photos, will upload them tomorrow, lots of my boys. Although not my boys for long. Am sad to be losing one, although he is moving internally, and I can’t argue that it’s nto a good move. And he has a nice arse, as he decided to prove to me towards the end of the night last night, when he dropped his kecks in the middle of the dance floor. Good job big boss had gone.

Other boy, not such a good move. I really think it’s not right for him, and very sad to be losing him. Other people found out last night, and everyone was very shocled and very upset to hear he was going.

I went into office this afternoon (had taken dat off work, slept until 1 o’clock) to pick up bag I had left there, and gave 2nd boy a lift to car park as I left. As he walked off, he said, “Now, dont you be getting tood runk tonight my lovely.” “Why not? That’s the point of a Christmas party?” “Because you haven’t got us boys to look after you….” Ahhhhhh. What a sweety.

Tonight’s was the old department Christmas party. A bit different from last night, which was an expensive, sit down, proper full on entertainment party. Tonight it was a £7 buffet in a social club, with a karaoke (which didn’t work, thank god) and a disco, and lots and lots and lots of free drinks.

Have only been gone 3 months, and there were lots of people I didn’t know. Made a fool of myself though, by going up to one bloke and saying, “Sorry, I don’t know who you are.” “Yes you do. A few months ago I came to talk to you, and you spent an hour or so with me explaining stuff.” Whoops. Even after that reminder, I still have no idea who he is. That is a severe memory loss. But I like him. “You are Woman. Everyone knows you, because you left your old department to manage the computer system, and since you’ve been there it’s been running wonderfully, we all think you’re wonderful.”

*polishes nails*

That’s me! Wonderful, me!