Caution: Anti-Fragile

I stepped steadily towards the counter, arms shaking under the combined strain of the basket full of plates and fatigue from last night's fitness class. There was no-one in front of me and no-one behind: i was confident.

I tripped over my own feet, ramming the shopping basket full of plates into the counter.

The plates rattled ominously, and the shop assistants stared.

Too embarrassed to care, I looked them right in the eye and said:

"This is why I need new plates."





I'm back. Not that I went anywhere – I'm just back from a pause in writing in this blog. As you might have seen from Tashcakes!, I'm still busy cooking and writing recipes. What with work, Mandarin lessons, K-Pop dancing, baking-blogging, gym and socialising this blog has taken a bit of a back seat, alas. But I haven't forgotten about it; and I'll continue to write whenever I can.

Oh, and Merry Christmas!

Born to Dunce

My status update from Facebook, Friday 20th March 2015 (yesterday night):

Dramatically tripped over my own feet in the car park this evening (after dance class, no less). A lady walked pass and, clearly convinced that I was drunk and about to drive legless, tutted and gave me the evils. Nope, not drunk, lady- I just have a constantly faulty internal gyroscope.

In Which I Act Uncharacteristically Starry-Eyed

As my train pulled into Euston underground station, I stood up and made my way to the doors. The doors opened, and I found myself standing in the direct eye line of a rather good-looking guy. We stared each other for the longest two seconds ever, and quickly diverted our gazes, embarrassed. I dodged out of the way of the oncoming crowd of people who were waiting to board the train with this guy, whilst I hopped off. As I sidled past him, I stole one last glance, as if to make sure he really existed.

I caught him red-handed in his own second-glance at me, just before we were both buffeted apart by the tide of the crowd.

Utterly disorientated, I turned around, walked straight into a wall and then proceeded to walk in the wrong direction.

The train, of course, left (and a few minutes later I found myself on the wrong platform having come to from my daze).

The unusual thing about this story is that I never act like this. This has never happened to me before- even in my last long-term relationship (RIP) it took me almost a full year to fully realise that I had come to be in love my friend rather than just love him in the platonic sense. Sure I can admire good looks when I see them, but I never go ga-ga over it. I don't even this this guy was what you'd call classically handsome or beautiful, or even particularly striking. But something about this guy caught my attention a couple of nights ago, and apparently him too. I didn't even have anything on my face- I checked afterwards just to make sure.

Well, all else I can say this: even though I still don't really believe in true love at first sight, I think I'll be more lenient about the idea of attraction at first sight- and I'll carry on hoping that no-one saw me walk into that wall. Especially not that guy,

I Did It! The Nodojiman Karaoke Contest at Japan Matsuri London

On Saturday I got up there in front of thousands of people and danced and sung Tsukema Tsukeru ('putting on false eyelashes').

It was EPIC.

Even though nerves made my voice go horribly strained and wobbly from trying to escape my throat, I danced by butt off and felt pretty epic. I had an amazing bunch of friends cheering me on, my mum and dad looking on in pride and amusement, and the other amazing contestants lined up behind me cheering and clapping along too. Sadly my voice let me down too much to be in the running for a prize, but I didn't mind at all. The winners were incredible (the winner of the first prize had a truly jaw-dropping voice), and I felt like I had leveled up in life. I got a lot of attention outside the competitions regarding how I'd done my makeup too, which was funny (falsies- of course, rhinestones around my eyes and lots of pink and glitter).

When I posted the video on my Facebook, my friend Ruthie- who I've known since I was at school- commented:

'Wow. had strange moments of remembering how shy you were when we met...and watching this... amazing xxx'

I replied:

'This caterpillar sure turned into one crazy-ass butterfly, huh? xxx'

Honestly, if you'd have known me those thirteen years ago- hell, even as little as three years ago- I'd have never dreamed of getting up on stage in the middle of London and potentially making an utter arse of myself in front of thousands of strangers. Sure I performed all the time on the piano at school concerts all the time and one or two other things, but I always felt secure behind a piano- but even after years of singing, I never liked singing in front of people. But you know what? Saturday felt fantastic. I'm definitely going to practise so I can do a better job next year, if I'm lucky enough to be accepted a second time.

In the meantime, I feel like I'm ready to venture back into music again- I do have a dipABRSM in performance and two additional Grade 8's after all and it would be a shame to let them go to waste... if only I could find a way to squeeze it in between baking, writing and the Mandarin course and Google Analytics course I've recently taken up.

In any case, I turn 26 next weekend. Bring it on, bitches. I'm ready.

In Case of Emergency, Don't Break Bones

I took the afternoon off work today to get a head start on tidying the house for a friend who's coming to stay for a couple of days from tomorrow. Being home alone for a bit, I figured I'd need a little extra time to be able to tidy everything.

Operation: Cleanup wasn't going so well. I'd already completely obliterated a very old saucer that didn't so much shatter as explode in all directions like a shrapnel bomb, and I hadn't even started yet: I'd only just gotten home and started to unload the dishwasher.

Next, after wasting valuable time sweeping my previously nice clean floor, I attempted to water the garden as it had been dry and sunny for the last couple of days, with no sign of rain to come for a while. That went wrong, too: the garage door jammed, leaving me unable to access the hose pipe- resulting in me doggedly watering the entire garden with a medium-sized watering can.

I'd just finished watering the tomatoes in their plant pots when I remembered the hanging baskets out at front. Already exhausted, overheated from the sun, hair sticking out at odd angles from my ponytail and having not even started truly cleaning the house itself, I retrieved the smaller watering can. I filled it, trouped through the house, opened the front door and got to work.

The wind blew. *SLAM*.

I turned around to find the front door in my face.

And realised that, for the first time in my existence, I'd gone out without my keys.

It was one of those moments where your brain takes a few seconds to process the situation. I stood, dumbly, staring at the door in front of me with the watering can still tilted into one of the hanging baskets. A drop of water landed on my sandal-ed foot, and I snapped to attention. I was locked out! Stupid, stupid! Alright, focus! What were my options?

Remembering that I'd left the kitchen door unlocked from watering (but knowing I'd somehow have to get past the locked garden gate), I made my way to the side and back of the house. I set the watering can down, kicked my flimsy sandals off and attempted to scale the gate- with no luck. It was too high and devoid of footholds, and the angle at which I was coming at it was putting too much force on the thin top of the gate. Not feeling like breaking my neck today, I turned the recycling bin by the gate upside-down and tried to use it as a boost. Still too short!

I had an idea: if I could reach over far enough, I might be able to knock the bolt back with the watering can and let myself in. As I was thinking of asking any neighbours that were at home (it only being 4pm and most still at work), I remembered something: my aunt and uncle! Years and years ago I remember my mum mentioning them having spare keys. It was a long shot: this was way back when I was a child- but it was better than nothing- and at very least they'd have a step ladder and were likely to be in, since it's the school holidays at the moment and they have two girls at school.

So I shuffled back into my sandals and off I went, walking to their house. It's only a five-minute walk, but  it felt longer thanks to my footwear: these sandals were of the cheap, poorly-made sort that I only use to nip out into the garden with. The straps had already begun to cheese-wire into the tops of my feet, but I was able to ignore the pain and instead focus on how horribly hot the sun was overhead.

Luckily my aunt was in. As I feared, they no longer had the spare keys to my house- but they did have a stepladder. Assuring my aunt that I had everything under control, I hoisted the thing over my shoulder and set off back to my house, passing a few puzzled local pedestrians on the way.

Hoping in vain there weren't any police people about or suspicious passers-by, I set the ladder by the back gate, kicked the stupid sandals off again and climbed. I was still too short to get a leg up! But at least I could lean over a bit and see the bolt, now. I scooted back down, grabbed the watering can and scooted back. Holding the spout, I attempted to hook the bolt with the opening of the watering can to slide it back.

Unfortunately the watering can was that little big too short to reach, and I ended up knocking the catch of the bold upside-down and flat against the door. Now what?

I climbed down, and Macgyver-style started looking through the recycling bin, hoping to find something I could make some sort of rudimentary lasso with in order to hook the bolt back up. Alas, there was nothing but newspapers and a small empty tissue box.

Then I thought: a coat hanger! If I can find someone who has one of those wire coat hangers, I could bend that into shape quite well, and it'd be long enough too. Putting my sandals back on (by now my feet were pretty cut up), I started pushing doorbell buttons- but to no avail. No-one was back from work yet. How far was I going to have to walk to find someone?

Just as I resigned myself to more foot torture, I saw a white van pull up down the road: Mick and Paul! Two family friends, also a builder and plumber who'd sorted our kitchen extension out for us. They were looking at me curiously (I realised I was walking about with the watering can still in my hand), and with an almost absurd calm I strolled up to them.

"Hey, Tash! Paul said. "You alright?"

"Not really," I replied, grinning sheepishly. "I've gone and locked myself out of my house. I don't suppose either of you have a wire coat hanger lying around, do you?"

 "Coat hanger?"

I explained what had happened, and how I intended to infiltrate my own garden. Paul asked me if the kitchen door was unlocked, and grinned when I confirmed that it was.

"Let's see what I can do."

We walked back to the garden gate, where Paul climbed the ladder and vaulted the fence like it was nothing. *CLICK*, and I was in! Thanking Paul profusely for saving my skin (or at least a fair bit of money from having to call a locksmith), I darted in, put the watering can back in its rightful place, changed into less painful shoes, grabbed my keys and took the ladder back to my aunt in my car.

Like I said before, I've never, ever set foot out of the house without my keys before, even for watering the hanging baskets. I think I was just so flustered by the way the day was going I just got carried away. Anyway, I felt satisfied knowing that I'd made the plants happy, even though I had a tough time doing it.

But do you know what the real kicker was? About an hour later it started to rain.

~Fin~

Making an Utter Arse of Myself/ Awesome Shopping Trip

Two consecutive posts in two days! Do I get a cookie?

I went on a mini-adventure to find a supermarket I'd been meaning to explore, today. I'm not a huge fan of driving to new places because I have a slight irrational fear of one way systems (yes, really). Thankfully I'm also a dab hand at reading maps, so I've never gotten myself lost. Yet.

Anyway I got there fine, and had a wander around. To my excitement, they were selling a brand of ice cream I love I haven't seen for years. I searched for my favourite flavour: there were just two left! And they were on the tallest shelf and right at the back of the freezer.

Now, this freezer was the kind that sits above and a little back from an open chest-style freezer: in short, you have to lean over the open freezer to fish out what you want from the cabinet freezer. Me being only 5'4" and with perfectly proportioned (but all the same short) arms, my fingertips couldn't even reach the magical cartons of my favourite ice-cream, even with me leaning right over on the tips of my toes.

Determined to break my ice cream drought, the scientific part of my brain kicked in. Maybe I could grab a tub of another flavour and use that to poke it out? I gave it a go, but all I managed to do was knock one of the tubs sideways. What if I created a chain of tubs leading up to the ones I wanted at the back, and pushed them out by pushing the tub at the front of the chain? More ice cream tubs knocked over.

I tried a few things, knocking over more tubs and conscientiously righting them again, getting colder and colder by the minute as I dangled over one freezer with my head and arms jammed in another. Finally, with a tub of an unwanted flavour in each hand, I found a way of wiggling the two illusive tubs forwards inch by inch- by poking at them from underneath the grill-like shelf with the other tubs. After what seemed like an eon, I managed to wiggle them to the front.

Victoriously, I plopped the two unwanted tubs down, seized my prize, and slammed the freezer door shut. As I turned around, a fellow shopper (who had been behind me for the whole time, I think), caught my eye and quickly turned away, possibly seeing my grimly determined grin.

Off I went to the tills to pay for my prize, feeling like I'd truly earned it and that the day couldn't get any better. In front of me was a couple with a rather large weekly shop- I just had the two tubs of ice-cream, but being in no hurry, I took my place behind them anyway. The lady in front put the shopping divider town on the conveyor belt, and I smiled and thanked her (because I've always thought it the polite thing to do).

As about half of her shopping passed through the scanner, the lady suddenly turned to me and said, "There's an offer going on here where if you spend over £40 and you have a club card, you get this big bar of Toblerone chocolate- it looks like we're going to get one. But I'm on a diet! Would you like it, if I gave it to you?"

I blinked. "Wow, yes please- if you're sure! That's very kind of you"

"Not at all, I simply can't have it in the house- I'll just eat it in one sitting," the lady chuckled.

"I think you can probably see I'd have no qualms," I said, beaming and gesturing to my two ice-cream tubs' worth of shopping.

So now I have two tubs of one of my favourite ice creams, and a huge 400g bar of Toblerone for free.

Win.

Thank you again, lady!

~Fin~

Making an Utter Arse of Myself: Finding Narnia

Show me a mysterious door slightly ajar, an unknown corridor discovered, a hidden and romantic-but-not-too-creepy alleyway, and I'll be in it faster than a cat in a cardboard box.

I've always loved the idea of secret tunnels and passageways, of portals to alternate realities and different dimensions. Once, as a child, my dad found me sitting on the stairs with my ear pressed to the wall, knocking on it and listening intently. When my dad asked me what I was doing, I replied that I was listening for hollow spaces, in case there was a secret door somewhere.

At work yesterday, on my way out of the toilets, I noticed that the wall opposite the entrance/ exit was at a funny angle. Not a wall: a door. I'd never noticed a door being there before, but there it was, slightly and tantalisingly cracked open. "Maybe this time it'll finally be Narnia!", a small, irrational part of my brain thought.

I crept up to the door, reached for the handle slowly, waited and... flung it open: 'Aha!'.

Alas, no Narnia, no Diagon Alley- not even a secret stash of toilet roll. Just a small space filled with pipes and cobwebs.

Not satisfied, and having a habitually scientific way of approaching things, I squeezed past the door and into the room, which was perhaps big enough to fit two people in with the door fully closed. I closed the door a little, experimentally. Nope, nothing: literally just a pipe room.

Trying to smother the faint sense of disappointment the irrational part of my brain was feeling, I poked my head out of the door to check that the coast was clear- just as someone walked into the toilets.

I froze, still with just my head sticking out. She stared at me, taking in the cobwebs in my hair, smiled nervously, and darted quickly into a cubicle. I hastily hopped out, dusted myself off, and walked very quickly back to the office.

(As a testament to how well my team member know me now, one of my colleagues noticed my flustered expression when I got back to my desk and asked "Oh Tash, what did you do?")

~Fin~

Short Stories: Wolf Whistle Interrupted

I had another one of those moments that could only ever happen to me.

Today, I made a conscious effort to improve my appearance- that is to say, I never don't put any effort into my appearance (unless I'm ill with a stinking cold, but then there's no hope for any of us, is there?), but lately I've been feeling a bit 'blah' and decided to go that extra mile to perk myself up in the morning: use a special eyeliner, don a spring coloured blush, force my flyaway babyhairs to submit with a pretty bobby pin, wear a dress... simple but effective tricks.

Later on today I was walking up the street towards the office, having gone out for a walk at lunch time. It was freezing cold and windy, and when it's freezing cold and windy, my nose streams like a tap. The bin men were doing their rounds, and they were burly blokey-blokes and rather a lot of them: but I didn't want to cross the road in case it looked like I was intimidated by them.

So I strode past in my heels, head held high, dress fluttering and waist-length hair flowing in streams in the wind. I heard the wolf-whistles begin.

Literally *just* as the first few whistling notes sounded, my nose gushed suddenly, and I broke all composure to scrabble for a tissue up my sleeve to blow my nose: and proceeded to make a wretched extended noise like an elephant trying to blow out a cork lodged in one of it's nostrils.

As I ended with a final violent snort, staggering at the effort, I glanced up to see the blokes staring at me, aghast that this small woman could have made such a noise. Then of course I made myself look like a complete loon by doing what I always do in an awkward situation: laugh like a drain.

I carried on laughing as I walked by- I didn't hear the clattering of bins for quite a few moments, so I assume they just carried on staring at me in disbelief.

~Fin~

Ring Ring, Bananaphone!

Today, I used a banana as a phone for the sake of the Alpro Deskfest competition.

I bet my phone is more ap-PEELING than yours.

Many thanks to my colleagues Anna and Kim, who helped me take the photo! As I was trying to prod the packet of cereal into place with my banana whilst taking a sip of my mega coffee before it got cold, Kim told me, 'Tash, you're quite possibly the most bonkers person I have ever met.'

Funnily enough, this isn't the first time someone's told me this.

Karma for the Adulterous

Today, I cheated on one of my favourite stores.

I'll give you a brief bit of background: it's no secret that I'm a Lush enthusiast, and I've even worked for them before. They have amazing-smelling stuff that works and great environmental ethics. The Body Shop used to be my go-to place for things like that, but I went off them ages ago when they stopped being colourful and funky and when they were bought by the more soulless L'Oreal. Yesterday I ran out of Lush's Dream Cream, which I've been using for years to keep my idiotically sensitive skin happy.

Yesterday also saw the country get a whole load of snow, making it a good idea to not drive out further than you have to: so no driving to Lush for me. 'No big deal', I hear you say, 'just wait until next week.' Well, I would- but when I say my skin is idiotically sensitive, I mean that if I don't take care of it, it turns my life into a living hell. So today I ventured into a nearby TBS, feeling weirdly like I was being unfaithful.

I've decided that what happened next was either pure karma for straying, or that I've actually been subconsciously programmed by Lush to sabotage any TBS store that I enter (sort of like how River from Firefly is programmed to go berserk when she hears a certain song).

The very first bottle I picked up, something like this happened:

Only instead of it being neat, it was noisy and chaotic and ended with me looking very sheepish, surrounded by a rainbow of bottles rolling around my feet. To add insult to injury, a sale placard landed squarely on my head as the two sales assistants doubled up with laughter.

I'm sorry Lush, I'll never stray again.

~Fin~

Crouching Tasha, Hidden Panda

This is my hat.

Marvel at its panda-ness.

Last week I got to don it when we had a sudden cold snap. Everything froze overnight, and since it had been a bit damp the day before all the trees and plants appeared to turn into beautiful crystalline structure. When I parked in my office car park and got out I noticed that the weeds on the grassy bank behind my car had developed some fun-looking ice prickles, so I decided to snap them. I crouched down with my little compact camera into the foliage to attempt to get a clean, car-less shot.

After a while my legs fell asleep, so I had to get up really slowly to stop myself from falling over. Little did I know there had been someone curiously (and slightly nervously) waiting the other side of my car, probably having heard me scuffling about in the grass and wanting to make sure everything was alright. She stared at me, partially curious, partially a little bit scared, and possibly with a hint of pity. When I thought back about it later, I realised this is what she must have seen:

A pair of black bear ears, slowly rising from behind a car, followed by a pair of panda eyes, a panda nose, my eyebrows, and gradually the rest of my face and body, looking guilty (because it's my default expression) and poised with a camera, standing in the middle of the grassy bank.

I can't read minds, but her thoughts might have had something to do with spies, sneaks and weirdos.

Oh, and here are the photos I took, by the way. I'm not sure they were worth it.

~Fin~

More Potential Unwanted Attention: Part 3

In which my colleagues finally catch a glimpse of the guy they've teasingly dubbed my 'stalker'.

Today, our team had just driven back from a long out-of-office morning meeting and were ravenous for lunch, so we stopped off by the shops- the same one where this guy works, but I was too hungry to really think about that. Besides, I had been out plenty of times since the last run-in (in the company of a colleague or two, of course), and seen no sign of him.

It was reasonably busy in the shop so the all of the tills were being manned, but most people like me just had one or two things and it was going quickly. As the queue moved along I chatted to my colleagues and read the nutritional value of my carrot sticks and hummus, and eventually I made my way to the next available cashier.

I plopped my lunch on the counter, still daydreaming.

"A very light lunch today, I see!"

"Yes, I-" I started at the familiar voice, and blinked upwards and out of my reverie, feeling myself going into manic friendly mode. "Oh- hello! How are you?"

"I'm good thanks! Yourself?"

"Oh, same old, same old," I laughed uncertainly.

"How's your work going at the moment?"

I glanced behind me like a panicked bunny rabbit looking for a way out of a fox's path, and I saw my opportunity.

"It's going well- look, I know you're busy and there's a queue building up- I don't want to get you into trouble! I'll see you around, alright?"

"Sure, see you later!"

I hurriedly bustled towards the exit, catching up with one of my colleagues. I caught her gaze, wiggling my eyebrows jerked my head wildly in His direction, indicating that this was the guy I'd been talking about. She raised her eyebrows in return as if to ask 'who, him?' I nodded, and she grinned.

One by one my other colleagues (who were behind me in the queue) caught up with my by the exit, and it was apparent that they'd clocked what was going on, and were very amused.

"That was him, wasn't it! At first I thought you were just randomly being really friendly to someone you'd never met before, but then I remembered about him."

"I'm so sorry Tash, I should have offered to pay for your thing so you could escape, but by the time I realised who he was it was too late."

"Only you could wait in a long queue and end up being served by the one person you want to avoid, Tash."

"I heard your excuse- nicely done!"

"Did you see how he craned around afterwards to check if you were really leaving or not?"

We were outside and I was cracking up by now. "At least you all know for real I haven't made this guy up, now! I just hope he didn't see us convening like a coven and whispering and cackling, or he might get the wrong end of the stick and think I'm interested after all..."

One rolled her eyes in mock-despair. "Of course Tash, now that he knows we work with you he might start asking us about you- so now we can't go to these shops, either!"

It's a shame, because the food in that shop is really good.

To be continued?

More Potential Unwanted Attention: Part 2

About that face transplant...

I ventured out earlier than usual today, hoping I could sneak to the Other Shops (the ones where this guy doesn't work). As I turned into the road that leads to the Other Shops I breathed a mental sigh of relief, as I thought I was in the clear.

No such luck, however.

"Hey, Natasha!"

Oh, hell.

"Oh... he- heeeeey!" I grinned, automatically going into super-friendly mode and hating myself for it.

He increased his pace to catch up with me- he seemed to be walking up the path away from the Other Shops, so I jokingly asked him why he was visiting them when he worked at His Shops (which are actually better).

"Haha, yeah, my friends there thought it was weird too. Anyway, are you walking down there? I was just going- we could walk together!"

No. You were clearly just coming back from them.

"Sure, why not?"

Damn.

So we walked and chatted whilst I wracked my brain to find some way to shake him off. Nothing I did seemed to work.

"So, how has your day been today?" He asked.

"Oh, it's been okay. I've spent most of the day writing product copy for hats."

"Oh wow, really? That's cool."

I mentally facepalmed at his almost exaggerated enthusiasm- surely writing about hats doesn't sound that thrilling? I tried again.

"So how come you're off to the (Other Shops)?"

"I just wanted to get some vitamins. Like cod liver oil. Would you be interested in that? You probably are, it's pretty useful for women isn't it, to stay flexible."

What.

"Er yeah haha, good for the joints or something." I tried, bravely.

This continued for a bit- I even found an opportunity to hint at how nerdy I am to try and put him off, and enthusiastically told him the story of how saccharin was invented.

"Oh wow really? That's really interesting!"

We entered the Other Shops around this point.

"By the way Natasha, I couldn't manage to find you on Facebook- you do spell it the normal way, don't you?"

Damn.

"Oh- yes. You know it's funny, people have told me I'm not easy to find on Facebook before." (True). "Why don't you give me your last name and I could look you up?"

"Good idea!"

I was, in the end, saved by my cluttered Mary Poppins/ TARDIS technology bag, as I couldn't find a pen or paper, and the guy said he'd try again and see if he could find my name on the company's Facebook page. Which is unlikely, as I haven't posted there before.

"We could browse around the shops together- what are you looking for today?"

Oh, hell no.

 "Er, you know what, I'm sort of funny about doing my shopping with people," (panic mode engaged, lame excuse activated) "and I should be getting back to work soon anyway. But I'm sure I'll see you around soon!"

"Alright, I'll see you around!"

I spent the remaining half hour of my lunch break dodging him and looking over my shoulder until I saw him go- which was quite a good amount of time. Apparently it takes half an hour to buy one small container of cod liver oil.

One thing's for sure though, it's given me enough time to confirm (to my relief) that it's not about trust issues; I'm just genuinely not interested.

However, that doesn't dig me out of the muddy pit of Awkward Situation I'm now in.

To be continued?

More Potential Unwanted Attention

Today I have decided that either I need a new job in another location, or possibly a face transplant. Or I just have to go out at lunchtime with other colleagues, or don some sort of disguise. Here's why.

One day I was walking down the street from work at lunch time when I walked past this guy going in the opposite direction, and sort of noticed in my peripheral vision that he had sort of stopped and was dithering a bit. Feeling sort of nervous (because I was about to stop by the cash machine) but knowing I was just being a bit paranoid, I squared up a bit and made myself alert, but carried on with what I was doing.

He'd vanished when I'd got to the cash machine, at which point I relaxed a bit- but as soon as I was done and walking away from the cash machine, he appeared out of nowhere and approached me. I needn't have worried though as he turned out to be nice enough (and probably hung back on purpose when I went to the cash machine so I wouldn't freak out too much, now that I think about it).

"Sorry to bother you, but do you work at the head offices up the road?" He asked. I blinked, and mentally kicked myself into friendly social mode, smiling.

"Yes that's right, at _____. Why d'you ask?"

"Oh, I have a friend that works there, I wonder if you know him?"

And so we got talking. It turns out he lives locally and actually works at one of the shops I sometimes go to at lunch time, and I've been bumping into him on the street or in those shops since.

I'm no egotist- in fact I still have a little bit of 'ex fat girl' syndrome, where I can't believe anyone would look twice at me. On the other hand, no-one approaches a stranger in the street just like that without having an ulterior motive (harmless or no), so I made sure I remained politely friendly and pleasant but not overly so during our encounters.

Recently though I've not been going out as much as I've had a lot to get through, so I've been staying in to work at lunch. Today I allowed myself a trip out to stretch my legs, and I bumped into him again- so we chatted for a bit. After a little while he paused and suddenly said, all confidence,

"I don't want to keep you, you're obviously really busy, but you know I wouldn't mind giving you my number if you wanted. I'd like to talk to you more often."

My brain broke a bit. Between my trying hard not to get in this situation in the first place, being asked out just a little while back by someone else and being pretty sure the usual request is to have the girl's number rather than offering it- although maybe the other way round is actually better, I was inwardly flummoxed. Thankfully outwardly I didn't show any of my inner turmoil.

My brain scrambled into action, learning from the last time to be respectful but to the point.

"You know, I'd really like that, as friends. Just so you know and so I'm not messing you about or anything, I'm not really interested in being in a relationship right now."

He nodded earnestly. "Sure, as friends."

And then, meaning to further solidify my stance, I put my foot in it.

"Yeah, I'm sort of recently out of a relationship..."

His face lit up a bit. "Really?"

DAMMIT! Crush his hopes and dreams Tash, crush them now!

"Er, anyway, look me up on Facebook, I'm on it as unhealthily regularly as everyone," I flustered.

As he cheerily waved me on my way, I got halfway down the road before I- I'm invisible on Facebook. The poor guy's going to think I gave him a dud name or something.

And that is why I'm going to have to change jobs or get a face transplant.

~Fin~

Afterword: That's the second time I've rebuffed someone in the last two months. I may need to take a good look at myself and find out if it really is because I'm too busy enjoying the single life (which I know at least is definitely partially true), or if I've developed a few trust issues from the last relationshipbomb. Oh dear.

To be continued?

My Special Day

I've had quite a mixed bag sort of day- it'll work far better if I just bullet point this one or it'll be an even bigger mess.

Part 1: The Morning

• Slip on unmopped patch of water when checking on baking muffins

• Drop half the muffins in the oven whilst slipping 

• Successfully return now slightly misshapen muffins to pan but burn myself in the process 

• Scald self trying to run cold water over burn because the last person to use the tap apparently ran it hot and there was still hot water in the faucet

•  Leave house an hour too early after mis-reading the clock (but not yet realising it)

Part 2: Late Morning/ Early Afternoon

• Text friend that I've arrived, only to receive a confused call asking if we were meant to be meeting an hour later- I realise my watch has probably stopped since midnight the night before to make it look like the right time, I've only just noticed this at this moment, AND I must have left an hour early on top of this 

• Go into Starbucks to wait for friend and don't realise that it's now become policy in the UK to call names out instead of order type

• Fail to recognise and respond to a repeated weird pronunciation of my name at the collection point ('Taaarsh' instead of 'Tash' like 'ash') whilst wondering what kind of coffee a tarsh was

• Only realise it's my name that's being called when the lady behind me pokes me politely and respond reflexively by flinging my arm up in the air and shouting "ooh, that's me!", causing Starbucks to go quiet for a few moments

• Choose a hot coffee and end up sitting by the window where the sun bakes me in my own skin whilst at first having no other table options, then feeling too awkward to poach someone else's table when they move, deciding I'd already made myself too conspicuous (and had a proper mug so I could go and take my coffee with me)

• Attempt to browse the new Primark without getting mauled by bargain hunters (I could just leave this bullet point as it is) and witness a woman with a load of clothes on hangers draped over her arms whilst wailing to her friend "this is what my life has become!!"

• Get out of Primark in one piece to meet aforementioned friend and have a beautiful lunch at Mildred's (a popular vegetarian restaurant in Soho), try not to eat all the cakes in the West End and think that the day is finally turning into a more genteel one

Late Afternoon/ Evening

• On the way to the Cake & Bake Show 2012, witness a lady walking the two biggest kitty cats I've ever seen down the street. Without a leash.

~Fin~

Short Stories: Making an Utter Arse of Myself- Part 2

(So soon? Why, yes. I told you there'd be more to come.)

I had a great day out in the West End with another good friend, Siu Yen, today. We first met at university in first year when we both took a foundation Japanese course as a side-study to our majors. Like all of my friends, she has her own unique and humorous way of seeing how the world works, and according to her I bring our her weirder side (this is a good thing, I'm told!)

She also knows I have a penchant for pretty edible things, sweet things and exotic food, and she kindly brought me a selection of Japanese sweets she'd found, ranging from biscuity to cakey to chewy.

On the train home I ate the mini mochi, mini dorayaki, and small handful of mini chewy sweets. The one I saved for last was an interesting-looking purple parcel that fitted in the palm of my hand, quite different from the others because the packaging obscured what was inside. I should have taken this as a warning, but instead I saw it as a challenge. Likewise when I prodded it and found that it was very, very squishy, I should have listened to my internal monologue that said 'hmm, this is probably going to be messy- better open it at home over a plate.' But instead, I opened it on the train.

It was one of those horrific moments where once you've committed yourself to a task, there's no going back, even though you realise instantly what a terrible mistake you've made. Instantly a sticky sugar syrup started oozing from the tear I made from the top, and because I had birthday presents for two people in the same bag, there was only one real way to dispose of the mess: by eating it.

I began by attempting to suck the syrup out from the tear, which proved to be noisy and just a bit on the socially unacceptable side. The train was packed full, so I really didn't want to draw attention to myself, and I abandoned this method as soon as the packet wasn't brimming with syrup. However I was still unable to just put the packet away because it was still leaking syrup- so I went for it and ripped the packet open further.

I was presented with a very squidgy, clear jelly-type thing, with what looked like an umeboshi (pickled plum) embedded in the middle. I knew it would taste fine, but I knew that visually, it looked quite horrendous. It certainly wobbled very indecently, and it wasn't just jiggly, it was slimy too.

I tried to delicately catch it with my teeth straight from the packet to avoid other people on the train having to see this alien-looking sweet, but only managed to bite off a small piece because it was so soft. After a few failed attempts I decided I was making more of a spectacle of myself with this clumsy display, so I went for it, took the slimy thing out with my fingers and bit straight into it.

The next part happened in a matter of seconds.

I bit straight into the umeboshi stone and choked in pain and surprise. This one simple action caused me to smear the remaining jelly across my face with one hand, and crush the packaging in my other hand, which caused the rest of the syrup to explode all over me.

Now exasperated, sticky and looking quite worse for wear, I glanced upwards, where a large family, who had apparently been observing me in silence, smiled sympathetically at me before getting off at their stop.

~Fin~

Short Stories: Making an Utter Arse of Myself- Part 1

You know you were doomed to having one of those days from the start when it takes you the entire day to realise that the reason why your T-shirt is so uncomfortable is because you have it on backwards.

(I've put 'Part 1' because I make an utter arse of myself way too often, so there will surely be more to come.)

I do seem to have a bit of a track record with public toilets. Until today the one that sticks most in my mind is the time I walked very bodily into a full-length mirror in the Birmingham Bullring ladies' loos during my student days, and apologised quite loudly to what I thought was another person (but what was actually, of course, my reflection), to much pitying laughter of the general public. In my defense the mirror reached right down to the floor and was the exact size of a doorway... it's not a very strong defence, is it?

Today doesn't quite top it, but I think it's worthy enough to be up there in my public toilet Experiences.

Today at work whilst walking to the loos I was a bit preoccupied with my unusually uncomfortable T-shirt (I still hadn't cottoned on I had it on backwards, yet), so I was trying to tug it into submission with both hands.

Unfortunately I still wasn't paying attention when I got to the toilets, because as I reached out to push the door open with my right hand (imagine the door of the loos are to my right), I was still looking down at my T-shirt.

I completely missed the door and pushed quite heavily against solid doorframe, which in turn caused me to pivot backwards into the door itself. As I pitched over in reverse, totally out of control, both arms and the one leg that wasn't connected to the floor flailing akimbo in all directions, I had enough time to see the small group of managers staring at me before I completely disappeared head-first and backwards behind the swinging door.

~Fin~