The Siege Of Troy Is Back In Business

Sunday, 5^th October

Forgot to take the dongle to the pub tonight, so I can't write my blog live.  Well that's me excuse (sorry I mean my - I am not morphing into Russell Brand) and I'm sticking to it.  In fact the upshot of this was that I had to work on the mastectomy chapter for Cordelia.  In fact I knocked out almost another 2,000 words before my battery died.  I ordered the Thai Green Curry for supper.  What arrived was perfectly edible, but no way a green curry.  It was more like sweet and sour chicken, not hot, and served with peppers and green beans.  I was so let down by my expectations, I had to have sticky toffee pudding after.  Even Troy had a spoonful.

Sparta Park won again tonight, 3 more points and a 5-0 score, without even kicking a ball.  Their opponents rang and cancelled.  That’s not very rock and roll, why not behave like any inconsiderate footballer, and simple fail to show up.  Troy still went along to check out The Dukes, the main opposition, but now Sparta Park are leading the league on goal difference,

Monday, 6^th October

I had a totally manic hour at work today, but hugely productive in a financial sense.  My last patient was Kay, and we went to the Providores for lunch afterwards.  We had an exceptionally good meal, and swapped top quality gossip.  From Mandelson to Brown, and Barry George to Blair.  No evil Victoria Beckham stories today though.  Boo!  I love having lunch with friends who can put it on expenses.

Back home to a paltry 19.6 MRI equivalents.  Then over to the pub for quiz night.  Hooray!  Three years nearly since Troy was banned from the Woodman, and our Monday night quizzing had to stop.  Now Siege Of Troy is back in business!  The hostilities with Clueless can recommence.  A few of our ringers are missing tonight, but I am sure we will soon be back on top...     

Not quite, we came second by a passable two and a half points.  It does take a little while to get into Quiz Ed’s mindset, although we did miss a few answers which we should have got.  Another eleven quid into the quiz kitty, which we have kept going for around four years.   We should have nearly £250 so far, which should make for quite an evening out by Christmas.  We resorted to taunting Mario with Spurs abuse.  QEd joined us for a drink afterwards, and a fascinating discussion on astrology.  I think.  Definitely astrology, perhaps not so sure about the fascinating bit.  Anyway, he has promised to do Mr and Mrs Moore’s charts.

Tuesday, 7^th October

A very busy day.  I went to see the Breastlight people for a meeting and a bit of a brainstorm.  Or boobstorm, perhaps.  We had a very rushed lunch, as I had to be in another meeting at two.  Following that I had an abortive trip to Princess Grace for no bone densities.  Then off to the post office to collect the cocktail strainers.  Next a trip to ASDA for the bits for cottage pie.  I bet Madonna wishes she had my life.  In the supermarket, I got total ASDA overload, and wandered the aisles, lonely as a cloud – or some such.  I got to the till, and went to take my wallet out of my bag, only to find that wallet there was none.  Oh no!  The girl on the till very kindly offered to ring everything up, and bag it, while I ran back down to the car.  Relief!  There it was on the front seat.  I legged it back up to arrive just as she was finishing the last bag.

Still no cocktails, despite now being in possession of the full kit, as I am having a night of abstinence, pending driving back up to the BBC, on Marylebone High Street.  The cottage pie was good though.

A Very Lazy Saturday

Blogging two days in a row.  Get a load of me.  Spent the day feeling lousy, and inevitably I didn't make it to the the gym.  However I did manage to get all of the theory out of the way for week two of my photography course.  So all that is left is to do the assignment, two different photos of a favourite subject, place, thing or person.  Ho hum, Troy?  One of the dogs?  Diamonds?  Curry?  Decisions, decisions.  Well, I have until Wednesday week to figure it out.  We missed a package this morning, which was probably all the cocktail bits.  Damn!  We bought lots of Tequila, Martini and so forth in Waitrose before the film yesterday.  I was hoping to mix a mean Margarita, or Manhattan, but so far all I've got is a jigger.  Rats.

I got the eReader working as well, and read a fascinating 50 pages of David Crystal, one of my favourite writers, on How Language Works.  I am in the slow process of deleting all the free classic books I don't want, although I did briefly run through a Midsummer Night's Dream again.  Some of them a worthy tomes, but not really what you'd keep in your handbag.

Have assembled the whole ten for my birthday party now, which is a relief.  I found Rachel online from Guatemala, and had an MSN conversation in French.  I even made a Francophone play on words, so does that make me a punning linguist?

If We Shadows Have Offended

Wednesday, 1st October

Went for lunch with Allaker, my oldest friend from school, who now goes by the name of Sarah-Jane, which I have trouble getting used to.  We met at the Waterfront at one, and hit the ground running, without even saying hello.  At the end of the meal, we decided to share a pud.  I asked for the menu, and, without thinking, ordered a sticky toffee pudding, with two spoons.  'How relaxing to have lunch with someone who knows me so well, she doesn't even have to ask what I want for desert,' she said.  We discussed children, husbands, and why we are so tired all the time.  I suppose because we are in our mid-forties, and keep forgetting.  At the point where we started to discuss the importance of a big cock, a group of businessmen hurried away from the adjacent table.

We popped over to Cake Boy, and I bought two decadent chocolate and fruit tarts, for Xanthe and I to have after supper.  I asked her if she wanted anything,  'That painting,' was the reply.  For a woman who never gave her sweet tooth to the proverbial fairy, that was quite something.

Thursday, 2nd October

I took Xanthe to see A Midsummer Night's Dream, at The Globe.  It was a brilliant production, and we laughed until we stopped.  It's amazing to think that a play, written over 400 years ago, can still be so hysterical today.  Not to mention smutty, leading Xanthe to the conclusion that it had been doctored in some way.  Not at all.  Fluff bought a plague rat hand puppet, and immediately demanded to re-enact the whole honeymoon rat-scenario thing.

She soon became highly proficient at the art of stuffing her hand up a plush rat's bum.  We may have a new Shari Lewis on our hands.  We need to organise ventriloquism lessons.

Friday, 3rd October

Achmed The Dead Rat, (or Willshuck, as Xanthe likes to call it) went to school with her.  I wonder what the teachers will make of it.  We are thinking of working on a script for the pair of them.  Mr Moore has come up with a first line...  Have you heard the latest statistics, they're scary, in London you're never more than two metres away from a human.

I HATE Being On Call

Saturday, 27th September

I hate patients who get arsey about appointment times.  They wouldn't try it on with orthopaedic surgeons, so why do it to us?  Having to do a routine Saturday morning list on call is bad enough.  Then they don't FUCKING TURN UP.  Went to the Nelsons for a barbeque this afternoon, which was fun.  Camilla, Xanthe and I took a trip to 'Little Manila,' just a few metres from their front door.  Here there are loads of tiny Filipino supermarkets, packed to the gunnels with exciting, exotic food.  Much of this is crammed with colourants, resulting in extraordinarily improbable food colours.  But you can find the odd gem.  Wasabi peanuts... Heaven.  And a packet of frozen banana leaves for future use.

My entire day is ruined, by losing to Hull, 1-2.  Thank God we decided to give the trip to The Emirates a miss.

Sunday, 28th September

Got up stupidly early for a Sunday to finish the work backlog, before going to see my Dad.  I am at the end of my tether with this work, and have the worst tennis elbow, from holding the dictaphone.  I am awarding myself a couple of days off, for it to settle down.  I spent the afternoon figuring out how to access my OU photography course, and got through a fair bit of the first session.  The boys won 7- 4, against the confusingly named - Where My Pitch Is At.  Whom I think should be called - Smack My Pitch Up.  My bright idea of locking off the camcorder so I didn't have to stay and watch the match, was crap.  Unusable footage from a static viewpoint.  What was I thinking?  The highlight of the evening was seeing some of the boys behave in a quite unreconstructed manner, after Gary's revelation that he plucks his eyebrows, and Veets everything else.

The children eschewed our company tonight, to spend the evening with Ali, Leo and Victoria.

Monday, 29th September

Just two patients today.  Bliss!  This allowed me to spend much of the day sorting out the Sony eReader, and the ultra-rugged waterproof, drop-proof, and freeze-proof, camera.  I was tempted to put it in the freezer to check.  Took the kids shopping after school, which is like trying to sit on a pile of marbles.  Just when you think you have everything under control, they go clattering all over the floor again.

The usual suspects got together for our Mixology class at Bluebird.  We were plied with just as much alcohol as we could manage, and genuinely learnt a lot.  Hopefully everone's memory was intact at that point.  So it was a fairly noisy six-some that turned up at The Big Easy.  The waiter suggested that I should have the all-you-can-eat barbeque.  I even accepted a bib.  I am not sure how many racks of ribs we got through in total, but it was a lot.  Especially if the state of my fingernails is anything to go by.

Tuesday, 30th September

Tackled the To Do Box Box, and, apart from finishing my tax return, I think I cracked it.  Nevertheless, I am still stuck with a sneaking suspicion that I haven't achieved a lot.  No real life patients today, just paper and electronic ones.  Virtual patients.  I finished everything in session 1, except the assignment, including spending several hours sorting and classifying photos.

My new nano turned up this morning and very sexy it is too.  Fluffy can have my old red one.  Recession, what recession?  If the US government won't spent it's way out, I'll just have to do it myself.

Last night was a bit of a wash out.  Mr Moore and I trekked all the way to Bankside Pier, anticipating champagne, canapes and a photographic opportunity extravaganza.  What we got was a pint and a rose, in plastic cups, which we bought from the Globe pub (that's the pub next to Shakespeare's Globe - not a spherical one), and thirty-five minutes freezing our nuts off.  Well, Troy's at least.  By 9.20, there was still no sign of the boat, which should have been back by 9.00 at the latest, for our proposed 9.15 sailing.  At that point we decided to throw in our collective towels.  After all, even Liz Brewer gave up, and we all know she would go to the opening of a crisp packet.

Today we had our MacMillan coffee morning.  I asked Ritchie from over the road, who looked dubious, until I mentioned cake.  He was over like a shot.  We raised £75, which was a lot better than last year.

Something made me really happy tonight.  In PC World, I found a charger that does rechargeable batteries in 15 minutes.  Gadget heaven!

Dressed For Comfort, Not Speed

Wednesday, 24th September

I left the house dressed to thrill, stretch black leather Jitrois skirt, fitted Matthew Williamson black jacket, and matching turquoise Jimmy Choo stilettos and Wayfarers.  A lot of effort for a 30 minute meeting, but worth it as it turns out.  Rob, Nicola (not just an agent, but the managing director of the company) and I bandied some thoughts about cancer, and medical TV in general.

I mentioned my book, and Nicola's eyes lit up.  In no time at all we were talking about potential advances, pr tours and what-not.  She wants to see the first 4,000 words as soon as possible.  Amazing.  By the time I got home, she had copied me into an email to the Editor-in-Chief of a large publishing house, pitching a book she hasn't yet even seen.  Doubly amazing.  She even slightly changed the title and added a sub-title, so it's now called, Tits Up - at least when you're bald you can't have a bad hair day.

Absolutely fizzing with excitement over this.  The easy part is writing the ruddy thing, the hard part is getting it to sell.  Nicola also seemed fairly keen on me as a co-presenter with Rob.  Watch this space.

Troy was having a drink over the road with Dan, early evening.  I joined them briefly, and Troy went home to cook the beef fillets.  I finished up my wine and excused myself, explaining to Dan, 'I had better go home to help, the steaks are too high to risk.'

Thursday, 25th September

Today I am dressed for comfort rather than speed.  Thursday is always a long day for me, as I am going to be clambering on and off a boat in the Thames later, I decided this was not the day for killer heels.  Mr Moore had some unpleasant news today: yesterday his friend Richard took the car out, having been drinking all night, and shortly found himself being airlifted into the Royal London for spinal surgery.  I just hope that (a) no-one else was involved, and (b) that this proves to be the wake up call that he so badly needs.  After all this is the man who thought it was appropriate to make my mother a balloon man with a gigantic penis.  The look on her face was priceless.

I had a phone call from Nicola mid-morning, but missed it because I was with one of the only three patients I have today.  Damn, damn, damn.  I tried to call her back, but she was in a meeting.  She wanted to speak to me about the book.  I realised that, because I didn't have my reading glasses on me last night, I sent the 4,000 to a non-existent email address.  Rats!  And not in a Marrakech way.  Sent it again this morning to the correct address, along with some random writing, a media biog, and a photo.  I need to send another photo but I want to photoshop it first.

My phone just rang, a private number, and conked out due to lack of signal.  Double rats.  I caved in and rang Nicola at the office.  Her first call had been intended to say that she was a bit disappointed with the sombre tone, which in keeping with what we had discussed yesterday. That was a piece I had written for The Telegraph, sombre indeed, it wasn't even in drama-queen-Daily-Mail speak.

Fortunately the correct piece hit the ground running, and she has already sent it to a pair of agents at William Morris.  Nicola has also spoken to her editor friend, who says she will do anything to help.  I can't believe this is all happening so fast.  She's advised me not to write any more for the time being, and to wait to see what sort of a steer the agents want to give it.  It needs more of a grab apparently, so a small rewrite, to start with me looking at the screen, and going 'Fuck!  That wasn't there last year.'

Just as she was going to ring off, she had one last, throw-away, line... 'Oh, I nearly forgot to say, I pitched you for a TV series this morning.'

Wow!

Media Me

Tuesday, 23rd September

An extraordinary thing happened this morning.  About six months ago, I met a lovely woman whose husband is a TV producer.  She is also friendly with Rob Buckman, one of my childhood heroes.  He had written a book called Cancer Is A Word, Not A Sentence, and was looking for a female medic co-presenter.  She was going to put me in touch with him.  Six months down the line, I am looking through my mobile for another Sarah K's number and see hers, I toyed with the idea of calling her to find out what was happening, but decided that too long had passed.

You can see where this is going.  This morning I got up to find an email from her, timed at 23.06 last night.  Rob is finally in the country, and she told him about me, he wanted further details.  I sent him an email, and within an hour he emailed back, suggesting that we meet at his agent's tomorrow.  Brilliant, what with being made the medical spokesman for Breastlight, (more of which later), it's been a hell of a week.

We went to see Daddy again today, and it was a bit of a joke-fest.  My Ma had been to the dentist for a routine check up this morning, so Daddy asked her what the dentist had said...  'Open wide.'  I drawled.