Sunday Summary | I have a pen ... I have a' apple ...

Dear FOQ

Y'know when you've been super-busy yet you feel you have nothing to show for it but eye-bags and the need to hide in your hoodie for the majority of the day?

That.

Recently it's been all I can do to get home and stay conscious for the evening. I don't know what it is: change in weather, daily stress about whether or not the chuffing trains will deign to run that day, work being constantly, constantly busy (albeit fabulous), trying to finish laying out and proofreading a history of the church, trying to organise (or delegate the organisation of) a 1960s-themed disco ... but I'm just TATT. (Tired All the Time.)

So, this is a fairly lite Summary, je regrette, but fear not, I'll have a lot more to report in a couple of weeks.

---

This fortnight, I have mostly been simu-reading:

alongside:

which I finished on Thursday night with a resounding ... meh.

Oh, LG.

You could have done with a much, much better editor. One who acknowledged that you can't just peddle exquisitely detailed anecdotes on one hand, and skip entire periods of time on the other.

Watching

Green Wing

and giving The Book Group (2002) a chance even though Clare, the 'lead character', is unbelievably annoying.

So imagine my surprise/alarm/mild annoyance when I worked out that Hugely Annoying Clare

is the Hugely Annoying Dead/Vicodin Ghost Doctor Amber, aka Cutthroat Bitch, from House.

Yep.

All4, though. Great for when you're temporarily divorced from Netflix, and legally verboten from watching the Beeb.

Also watching Plus One (from some eight years ago on Channel 4, and on DVD)

Natalie and I versed ourselves in the first three episodes on Friday night, and I have to say, I was greatly tickled. (The Archers I'd consumed prior to watching may well have helped but what's not to love about a series that involves Duncan from Blue parodying himself?)

The series focuses on Rob, whose girlfriend ditches him to run off and marry aforementioned Duncan from Blue, and is then invited to their wedding – hence the need to invite an impressive Plus One to bring along. Each episode focuses on a new, and often failed, attempt by Rob to find that Plus One.

Witness our hero busting some serious moves under instruction from another pop star of the moment mid-to-late 00s Jamelia:

(And pardon the language right at the beginning ...)

Trying

... to rid this song from my brain (but admittedly not very hard because it's annoyingly catchy):

Scroll down to enjoy a truly Special Tribute to this song later on in the post ...

Hanging Out with the Bestest

... and other reprobate activities.

Last Friday night this excellent person came over for one of our now renowned 'sleepovers':

As is our wont, we stocked up on the essentials (nachos, cocktail ingredients):

and then settled in for a civilised evening of entertainment.

Which, roughly translated, means we didn't even get as far as inside my flat after our little shopping excursion before the Malibu and Archers cocktails-in-a-can came out.

But if I don't post photos of us drinking cocktails like tramps on a bench outside Co-op then It Clearly Didn't Happen. You get me?

Fast forward to ...

{Check out that scar on my left arm. Ironing did that. Evil ironing.}

{Eclairs. This also happened.}

And after a cheeky can and a half of Malibu for her

and another Archers and lemonade for me, it seemed like The Best Idea in the World to pay tribute to the aforementioned catchy song, PPAP (Pen-Pineapple-Apple-Pen).

So (after a few takes and outtakes as we are nothing if not perfectionists)

here is the final edit for your enjoyment:

This was closely followed by what I can only describe as a performance de force par moi of Wrecking Ball (lip-synced, you'll be glad to hear).

But since the video is more indulgent than those eclairs you saw us scoffing earlier, it may never see the light of day.

Count yourselves lucky.

And then came dancing.

Including a particularly fervent interpretation of 'You Think You're a Man (but you're only a boy)'.

During which I managed to elbow Natalie rather squarely in the collarbone.

... Thus ended the dancing.

(Sorry, Natalie.)

The following morning, we woke (I had to peel myself from the floor after the airbed deflated underneath me), made ourselves purty and headed into town for our also now renowned post-sleepover Greasy Spoon Fry-Up.

A little tour round the shopping centre later (and can we please just have a moment for this work of art ... next to this painting?)

before Natalie had to head home to resume responsibilities as an adult. Albeit with a sore collarbone after some flailing idiot with pointy elbows maimed her in an ill-thought-out dance move ... oh.

(Love oo.)

Pinterest Pins of the Fortnight

Well, in spite of having painfully little time to Pin these days, and the time I have spent Pinning has also been spent informing the Powers that Be Pinterest that I JUST DON'T LIKE ADS SO STOP FREAKIN' SHOWING ME ADS ... I've just exceeded my 7k pin quota.

Not sure if that's indicative of something good, or just a bit sad. Anyway. Here are this fortnight's Pick of the Pins:

One verbal ♦ One visual

Fortnightly Web Finds

Just a couple as I haven't got the energy to curate all my saved links this week (I'm sure you're secretly cheering):

• Should we change the way we compliment girls and women? | I vote yes | on The Pool
• Similarly: Teach girls bravery, not perfection | Reshma Saujani for TED talks

And finally ...

• Flamingo does Flashdance | on Vine

'Fraid you will have to wait a little longer than the allotted fortnight for the next missive as I am orff for a much-needed 'oliday (ideally off-grid ...) but at least I shall have more blogfodder to share upon my return!

But before I sign orff, may I wish my loverly loverly Ma QB a very happy boifday for tomorrow! HAPPY BOIFDAY, MA QB! xxxxx

And Charlie, all the very best for tomorrow. You will be amazing. Natch. xxxx

qb xx

Sunday Summary | Wake me up before you go-go, don't leave me hanging on like a ... sohhhlo...*

* Name the film from which this mis-quote comes. Dare ya!

Dear FOQ

First and most importantly of all, I can't let today's post go by without wishing this total utter beauty, Natalie, my bestest:

A VERY HAPPY SIGNIFICANT BIRTHDAY!** 

The lucky lady is currently in Bella Italia, (the country, not the restaurant, for the record) celebrating, but if you know her (or in fact, even if you don't), give her a massive birthday big-up via the QB Wall, won'tcha?

I've rallied together some of our famous friends to wish young Natalie a happy birthday in gif format as is my wont – scroll down for the full effect:

(**She's 21.)

---

In all honesty, give or take one or two human interactions outside work, it's been a very quiet fortnight. So this is Sunday Summary – Ultra-Lite edition. Enjoy. In a truncated stylee.

This fortnight, I have mostly been ...

Reading

{Thanks, Evie!}

Love this cover.

Brain capacity this last fortnight, or lack thereof, has meant less reading has happened than I would like. I'll work on that.

Rewatching

Black Books

{Something about Bernard Black just ... appeals to me. Filth 'n' all.}

Also rewatching The Artist. Because it's splendid. Case in point: everything Bérénice Bejo wears in this film. Just. Freakin'. Fabulous.

Oh and ... sneaking a look at series two of:

{Smoulder smoulder ...}

Poldark

Which, Kate O, you're quite right, makes no sense if you've not watched series one. But it's worth it. I promise.

Picking the mint out of my mojito

... in the excellent company of my work girls, Chloe, Emily and Megan.

Started in the Barn again to take full advantage of Curly Fry-day:

then on to 'Spoons once more. For pitchers and pictures ...

... So much mojito.
Too much mojito.

Hic.

... And, thanks to Emily:

Discovering Snapchat filters

Boomerang videos are so three weeks ago (read: I'm lacking loop-video inspiration at the mo).

This is the new thing now.

Behold. And be a little afraid.

Since life lately (read: work – many photoshoots, many travel fails) seems to have left me tending towards hermitdom, I want to at least give a massive and overdue big-up to my Lovelies for keeping me virtual company by way of WhatsApp, and for inviting me out even if I decide that actually I just want to ... not.

So, name checks due to:

Charlie, Norgstar, Jos, Dan, Pete, Alun, Glenda and Jess.

Just for being you.

Pinterest Pins of the Fortnight

One verbal ♦ one visual

{This. Exactly this.}

Fortnightly Web Finds

Serious

... Yeah, I got nuthin'.


Silly

... Yeah, I got ... one. Well, two, but from the same source. Does that count?

• I will never tire of Mario Wienerroither's music-less/re-sounded videos. These two are the latest finds – with massive thanks to Norgstar for the second one!:

Well, that's all for this fortnight's missive.

Join me in two weeks when I shall – SPOILER ALERT – mostly have partied with the birthday girl (hopefully), sung for an former Archbishop (hopefully), got my hair did (hopefully) and will be buzzing from seeing one of my musical icons in concert (again, hopefully).

Until the next ... Stay sparkly and full of disco fever.

qb xx

Sunday Summary | Padded, for your comfort

Dear FOQ

Thank you for appreciating/acknowledging/only silently begrudging my no-show last week. I promise to at least try to pad this week's Fortnightly Fun Sunday Summary out with sufficient GIFs to sate your appetites, you lovelies, you.

For those curious folk among you (er, put yer hand up there at the back, luv), the obscuro lyric was from the seminal and laughably 'seasonal' Let Me Take You There by queen of the 90s bubblegum pop, Betty Boo.

Betty who now?

Let me refresh your memory ...

No?

Doin' the Do?

Where Are You Baby? (... "We used to haa-aave so much fun. You drive me crazy ... somebody tell me where he's gawn ...")

No?

... Never mind; you're probably too young or too hip to remember her anyway. Moving on.

---

This fortnight, I have mostly been ...

Reading

Finished it, finally. It didn't 'arf drag towards the end.

Or perhaps I just took too long to read it; the magic dissipated. (Sorry, Evie, I've dampened the anticipation a bit there, haven't I...)

I was one of those books where I'm sure there's something deep to it, but I'm really not bright enough to glean it. Still. Fowler is an exquisite writer, and there's a reason We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves was a literary triumph.

I've moved on to something I'll pretend to be able to read quite quickly:

Watching

{The Big Bang Theory}

and having a smug chuckle at this in-joke:

{Ew. Comic Sans. Cringe.}

Wahaha!

Ahem.

After an attempt to find this film on Netflix failed:

{CAMELS!}

(it was on there, now it's not ... what's with the arbitrary removal of films and series, Netflix? A warning might be nice ...)

I happened upon Jane the Virgin

which is quite entertaining though didn't really hold my interest the way TBBT does ...

Self-led uke-teaching

"While the parents are away, QB will play ..."

{If it's good enough for Gosling ...}

A couple of weeks ago, I holed up at QB Heights, Senior Division, to keep an eye on the feathery deviants I call my 'sisters', Ginger and Violet, while the Seniors were away.

I took the opportunity to bombard their neighbours with my earnest if just a bit ropey piano-playing of Selections from Les Mis in the Key of C along with The Only Bit of Send in the Clowns I Can Now Remember How to Play ...

but also to break out the uke and the chord book. And this dozy face. (Life goal: work on photo faces)

I decided that attempting to play this rather beautiful song was a good idea:

And y'know what? It actually was.

I'm beginning to understand the wonderment that is Joni Mitchell, properly.

Maybe it's a 'maturity' thing. Or maybe I've just got wise to her infinite talent.

Rebuilding my tech life

The old laptop gave me yet another scare last Saturday morning when it went into some sort of coma state and would not wake up. All we wanted was to crank up this tune:

but no, the floptop was not having it.

Two trips down to the techy market stall later, and eventually, of its own volition, the wretched thing resurrected.

Uhgain.

I didn't believe it possible, but 'twas the Decree of Wise Pa QB to Have Faith and plug it back in again.

Just in cases.

Et voila. And it has actually stayed largely functional since then. But this QB is taking no chances.

Me 'poot' is me livelihood, more or less. (#firstworldproblemiknow)

And Pinterest is sub-par on all other platforms, let's be honest now.

I write this on a sexy new laptop that actually functions on Windows 10 {I know, right?!} ...

{This baby, from Ar-goose}

... even if it's deprived me of Windows Movie Maker (no longer compatible?! What?!), so those Christmas animations will need a new creation platform soonest or my army (tiny band) of followers will be pulling this face come 24th December:

{Jenna Marbles | via here}

I've got my beady eye on this package:

I've managed to transfer the majority of my life's wafflings onto the new computer, although in the process, I have somehow sacrificed/deposited into the ether:

1. 1 x folder of old work admin. Like a tw@t.
2. 1 x folder of blog-related files (tho' I can't even remember what was in that folder apart from the logo files which I've since downloaded from, er, the blog, so, no biggie, really). Like a wally.
3. 1 x folder of my own GIFs which I'm a little bit annoyed about but ... being the caring, sharing type (!) I've doubtless uploaded most of them onto the blog anyway. Like a spod.

So all is, literally, not lost.

And the new machine goes like the clappers.

That 8GB of RAM (sorry, Chandler, times have moved on ...)?

Bay-ootiful.

(BIG thanks to Natalie for all her recommendations on what to look for in a new computer. Oh and also for talking me down from an epic 'oh-crap-my-computer's-died-and-I-have-stuff-to-do-on-it' meltdown.)

Speaking of which, yes, I have also been ...

Hanging out with my bestest

I do believe these photos tell you all you need to know about the shenanigans, tomfoolery and general monkeyshines that went on Last Friday Night.

The WooWoos made me do it.

Whatever 'it' was.

(The WooWoos were probably responsible for me pouring just a little too much chocolate sponge mix onto the waffle maker. Let us never talk about the resultant brown oozing and epic mess on the kitchen floor again.)

{Nachoooooos!}

{Why, my cocktail waitress is a bit fruity!}

{9.30pm and I was already on the floor ... | or just posing, or wh'evs ...}

I'd just like a quick moment for my "bada$$ chain earring" here sported.

 I've been Pinning photos of these weird little fads-in-jewellery for a while now:

 

Admittedly, there's something a little 'ick' about the whole concept of running a chain from one piercing to another, but I think that's possibly what I like. The slight 'gross-out' factor.

I finally managed to find some online at a very, very, very reasonable price (£6.40 for two pairs) on Ali Express -- if you've not cottoned onto this shopping service, it's brilliant. Yet another tip-off from the Omniscient Ginger Source of All Wisdom (that'll be Natalie again!).

So that be what those are. My bada$$ chain earrings. To be worn with buttoned-up cardigans and sensible shoes for that full-on sartorial contradiction.

Right, back to the partaaaaay:

{Spot the photobombing bee ...}

{We coined this word. Yep.}

{"Show my location?" Er, OK, ... ON THE FLOOR.}

{This is what happens when you overfill the
waffle maker. Oopsy.}

{My guest didn't seem to mind, mind.}

{Er, Natalie, you appear to be, er, 'glowing' ...}

{The morning after the night before ...}

{LARD}

{This is what became of the leftover
waf-fail mix. CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE!}

(Every day I'm) Waffling

My new workmate Emily and I seem to be having an informal Waffle-Off. Or, rather, she tells me waffly tips, I go home, I follow through with those waffly tips.

She even introduced me to the magnificence that is this website: Will it Waffle?

I waffled an egg.

Because you can*. And I could.

(*unless it's the product of one of your parents' Girls in which case it disnae work quite so well)

Behold!

This ...

is a w-oeuf-fle.

And then, inspired by wafflage, I made up some Belgian waffle mix.

I say made up ... I literally did.

Ran out of plain flour and butter half-way through mixing. Had to sub in with self-raising flour ... and olive oil.

Which, as I discovered to my peril on Saturday morning, makes waffle mix volcanic, and smell like cowpats.

I believe that is what you call an epic waf-fail.

I can testify that aside from more volcanic overspill (seriously, does the recipe actually need 7g of yeast...?), the second batch of Belgian waffles were, if slightly burnt, more pleasing on the nasal cavities*.

(*I didn't stick them up there; I ate them. But you know what I mean. Less cowpat smell {which I think may also be the fault of the yeast}. QB for the WIN.)

BUT! Other thing wot I did learn from those people at work wot are clevuh and stuff ...

I learned how to separate an egg ... using a water bottle.

It's a thing! It works! It's actually amazing!

{Mind = blown}

Of course you all knew about this for years but still!

I'm nothing if not Late to All Parties. To wit: all series I've ever enthused about on here.

Anyway. I digress.

Watch this and be awestruck. Or don't.

Thanks, shouty (but oddly endearing) Russian dude! 

Pinterest Pin(s) of the Week(s)

Here are two. Because I'm in that sort of mood, y'all.

{The struggle of font snobbery is real.}

Web Finds of the Fortnight

• Found this on YouTube (while falling down a YT Rabbit Hole). Actually wept with laughter: Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton Debate: Bad Lip Reading

• The Ten Rules of Literary Bohemian Families | I love this! | on the Waterstone's blog
• Funny Posters that Graphic Designers Will Appreciate | on Digital Synopsis | vicariously via Cousin Jo

---

Right, that's enough for now. Join me again in two weeks for more of the same. But maybe with more reports of actual human interaction.

Big love as ever to ... Natalie, Norgstar, Charlie, Jos, Fern and also to Ma QB for, well, everything else not previously accounted for above.

qb xx