tidings of comfort and joy
Christmas was good, very good indeed. I enjoyed all four and a half days of it right up until this morning when I was frozen solid waiting for trains that were either delayed or cancelled because of the 1cm of ice/snow on the tracks [England is such a sissy country].
But prior to that X-mas was a shameless exercise in Sloth and Gluttony and SofaLove (my favourite preoccupation next to television - getting to spend a lot of quality time curled up on my mother's womb susbtitute, the sofa, within easy reach of hot drink/books/remote control/the cat).
SofaLove (-arguably the greatest love of all)and television (now that I've converted him with the likes of Average Joe) is certainly a passion that my boyfriend and I share, and this has involved much silent warfare and imperialist tactics [mine] and uneasy truces [with the likes of two of us curled up on it in each other's arms, but you knew that the romance was just bided time to another colonization bid from me]
I know some people use the opportunity to spend this time with their families, but as far as I'm concerned this is just a pale substitute for sofas whose loving upholstered arms we are cruelly torn away from by the need to hold down gainful employment. In the run up throughout the hectic hell of december I sustained myself with the thoughts that come the Baby Jesus Birthday Extravaganza I would be curled up on the sofa where I belong with maybe just brief breaks to cook/go to the bathroom/have sex/put different hairclips in my hair.
To my joy, that is exactly what happened and lo it was as satisfying an experience as I thought it would be.
We ate lots and lots and lots of food - Z and I outdid each other on the cooking [his superb beef roast and Fabulous Soup slugging it out for tastebud supremacy with my juicy tiger prawns and Grilled Rainbow Trout with Sauteed Patatoes and Chard; His light and airy pancakes vs. Apple Crumble with Cream - and then later Tia Maria when we ran out of cream] and I am still impressed with the fact that we can fit into our Pre-Christmas clothes.
Having succesfully avoided all of our relatives, we spent quality time with Baby! [I think even when he is a grown up tomcat Milica will always be Baby! to me] and each other, getting smashed on mulled wine by the fire [and managing not to ignite the carpet or our eyebrows, result!] and watching a marathon of Lost [we are now up to Episode 9 of Season 2]and then yesterday watching the snow falling. We took the Baby! to the garden to introduce him to his first snow and after he spent some time trying to bat flakes he left the premises in protest of Wet! on the ground and spent the next two days curled up on the sofa [that's my boy!]
I received some very nice presents: chocolates from my clients, a green beaded bracelet from my co-worker, a little mirror from my manager, a lovely deep brown woolen scarf & suede gloves from Z [a visionary present which was the only thing that stood between me and hypothermia] and the promise of a multi-coloured hat from miss_newham! In turn I gave Z a cookbook/travelbook about regions/food/customs of Italy and an olive green t-shirt [I am trying to outnumber his ugly clothes]. We got ourselves so hyped up and excited about the presents underneath our potted ficcus plant that we opened our presents early because 1)we are children at heart and 2) why not, when you think about it?
The other event of note is that today is one year anniversary of the day when Z first kissed me in the parking lot of the O2 Centre and in his excitement accidentally stepped on the gas pedal. We are going somewhere fancy to celebrate.
But prior to that X-mas was a shameless exercise in Sloth and Gluttony and SofaLove (my favourite preoccupation next to television - getting to spend a lot of quality time curled up on my mother's womb susbtitute, the sofa, within easy reach of hot drink/books/remote control/the cat).
SofaLove (-arguably the greatest love of all)and television (now that I've converted him with the likes of Average Joe) is certainly a passion that my boyfriend and I share, and this has involved much silent warfare and imperialist tactics [mine] and uneasy truces [with the likes of two of us curled up on it in each other's arms, but you knew that the romance was just bided time to another colonization bid from me]
I know some people use the opportunity to spend this time with their families, but as far as I'm concerned this is just a pale substitute for sofas whose loving upholstered arms we are cruelly torn away from by the need to hold down gainful employment. In the run up throughout the hectic hell of december I sustained myself with the thoughts that come the Baby Jesus Birthday Extravaganza I would be curled up on the sofa where I belong with maybe just brief breaks to cook/go to the bathroom/have sex/put different hairclips in my hair.
To my joy, that is exactly what happened and lo it was as satisfying an experience as I thought it would be.
We ate lots and lots and lots of food - Z and I outdid each other on the cooking [his superb beef roast and Fabulous Soup slugging it out for tastebud supremacy with my juicy tiger prawns and Grilled Rainbow Trout with Sauteed Patatoes and Chard; His light and airy pancakes vs. Apple Crumble with Cream - and then later Tia Maria when we ran out of cream] and I am still impressed with the fact that we can fit into our Pre-Christmas clothes.
Having succesfully avoided all of our relatives, we spent quality time with Baby! [I think even when he is a grown up tomcat Milica will always be Baby! to me] and each other, getting smashed on mulled wine by the fire [and managing not to ignite the carpet or our eyebrows, result!] and watching a marathon of Lost [we are now up to Episode 9 of Season 2]and then yesterday watching the snow falling. We took the Baby! to the garden to introduce him to his first snow and after he spent some time trying to bat flakes he left the premises in protest of Wet! on the ground and spent the next two days curled up on the sofa [that's my boy!]
I received some very nice presents: chocolates from my clients, a green beaded bracelet from my co-worker, a little mirror from my manager, a lovely deep brown woolen scarf & suede gloves from Z [a visionary present which was the only thing that stood between me and hypothermia] and the promise of a multi-coloured hat from miss_newham! In turn I gave Z a cookbook/travelbook about regions/food/customs of Italy and an olive green t-shirt [I am trying to outnumber his ugly clothes]. We got ourselves so hyped up and excited about the presents underneath our potted ficcus plant that we opened our presents early because 1)we are children at heart and 2) why not, when you think about it?
The other event of note is that today is one year anniversary of the day when Z first kissed me in the parking lot of the O2 Centre and in his excitement accidentally stepped on the gas pedal. We are going somewhere fancy to celebrate.