Going to my grandparents’ this weekend. My parents will be there, which is why I’m going, because it means that A. I get to see my parents and B. I will not be the sole receiver of attention from my grandparents.
I’ve brought only two books. On the other hand, I’ve barely started either and they are both 500+ pages. A bit excessive? Who cares. How am I to know today which book I’ll feel like reading tomorrow?
Excellent news: They’ve started the weekly wine lottery at work up again (they used to have it, but it’s been dead for a few months) and I won a bottle today. The drawback is that my grandfather is staunchly against alchohol, so I can’t open it tonight. Actually, maybe that’s an advantage rather than a drawback, because if I opened it tonight I’d have to share with my parents and on the whole I prefer letting them pay for the wine.
Over lunch today we were discussing 30th birthdays. In Norway, if you’re still unmarried at 30, the tradition is that you get a peppermill as a present (or several peppermills, depending on your number of friends and how funny they think it is). One of the girls complained that she had been looking forward to getting one, but that her mother had told people not to and so no one had dared. Which is silly. I mean, I look forward to my 30th birthday immensly simply for the hope that someone will actually get me a decent peppermill (have you seen the price of those things?).
From annoyance at not receiving we strayed onto the difference between men and women in this respect. Both sexes get the peppermills, but the ridiculously large ones are apparently more often given to guys by their friends. My theory is that essentially, women go for the “cool, possibly expensive, but still useful” models (whether they are chosing for themselves or a friend), guys, however, see it as a phallus symbol, and so to them, naturally (or idiotically), size matters.
Just a thought.
Now, more stupid quizes:
I am Aurora!
Which Disney Princess are you?
I am also a tomato. Apparently. Can’t be bothered to link that one, though.
Hmm. Not sure I want to BE Samuel L. Jackson. Be with, maybe. Mmmm, SLJ in kilt on Parkinson. Mmmm. Must see film with SLJ in kilt. Mmmm.
Ok, time to call it a day (week – Friday, YIPPEEEEEE!!)
Sound of the moment: 5000 miles or whatever it’s called. Urgh. Get out of my head!
Age of the moment: definitely middle aged – am soo looking forward to sleeping in and just pottering about all weekend