Verdict on the “friendly spider programme” – EXCELLENT!

I have a Polaroid photo of me holding a tarantula to prove it.

Verdict on the big telly – seems ok so far. Have not yet worked out how to connect up all the different bits so we can record from the freeview box. I’ve got a feeling this will keep R occupied for a few days.

I really feel I should write a proper review of the spider therapy, but my desire to go to bed is stronger. I’ve got to get up early(ish) tomorrow to go and visit my sister and brother-in-law and my newborn niece. Born on Monday 16th August at 4pm. A year exactly, even to the hour, since I had my abortion. Obviously my sister didn’t intend for her baby to pop out with such unfortunate timing. She doesn’t even know about it. But blimey – how does she do it? Anyway, I had a big bibble on Tuesday about it. Ate a gigantic Chinese takeaway, re-read the letter I wrote to My Foetus in April, and felt much better afterwards. That was reassuring. I’ll never forget it, but it doesn’t have to control my life and my emotions anymore.
Now to my lovely, lovely warm bed.

I wasn't content with having Spider Therapy as my only "first enhanced pay packet" treat. So I went out and bought a big telly too.

I'm going to Cornwall for the bank holiday weekend. I'm dismayed that this means I'll be just like one of the suckers I used to smirk at sat in 200 mile tailbacks on their way to Bournemouth for their summer holiday. Not me, I thought smugly, I live by the sea. But now I live in London and have to find the best way to travel if I want to get out of London.

The part of Cornwall I am going to is 247 miles from where I live. About 30 miles further away than York. This amazes me - I always forget how wide England is at the bottom. A bit like J-Lo. But the point is - why does it take two hours to get to York by train, but four hours to get to Bodmin? I am also dismayed that it will cost £60. I investigated getting the coach, or maybe even the megabus. I could get to Plymouth by megabus for £8. Alas bus only makes one journey per day, which arrives too late to get a connecting train to Bodmin. The coach is £37 but takes six hours. On the M5 on a bank holiday weekend, make that more like nine hours.

Hiring an EasyCar would be £75 (split between two people) but then there's petrol on top of that, and a surcharge for travelling more that 75 miles per day.

And then I discovered I could fly there for a mere £90 with Ryanair. I am seriously tempted, although obviously concerned that going to cornwall by plane would give me a rather hefty ecological footprint. So I think I'm going with the train option. I'll let you know after the weekend how much I regretted this decision!

I'm fed up of being a big scaredy-cat. So next saturday I'm going to spider therapy. Oh yes. I'm hoping it will have a knock-on effect and make me less wimpy round moths and daddy-long-legses too.

Unrelated - if you like beans, you'll love this.

I've had some awful bus journeys for the past few days. This evening there was a mad old men slurring abuse at me with a can of tenants' super in his hand, and a woman who refused to move so I get out of my seat right in the back corner and subsequently out of the bus. I really enjoyed having to scramble all over you. Thanks! This morning and yesterday morning - babies screaming in that way that only babies can. This made me feel some relief - at least I wasn't responsible for making them stop. Two evenings ago, a girl of about 9 or 10 had obviously just learned to count because all the way from Camberwell to New Cross, she counted. From 1 to 227. Thank god she then got off the bus. And the night before that - the worst of all. The woman sat opposite to me took off her shoes and put her feet up on the seat next to me. They bloody stank! When did it become acceptable to take your shoes off on a bus and put your feet up as if safely sat at home on the settee? I could avoid these bus journeys by walking from Denmark Hill station to Oval and back each day. But it's a 30 minute fast trot. I'm not averse to a 30 minute fast trot if it's the only component of my hourney home, but when it's preceded/followed (depending on morning or evening) by a 15 minutes walk to Blackheath and 15 minutes on a packed train, I'd rather just sit at the bus stop and wait for a 185, or get a bendy bus all the way to Lewisham if I'm not feeling hopeful about the state of the railway. Even if it's full of counting, slurring, crying, screaming, smelly-footed individuals.

Talking of bendy buses - I'm actually rather fond of them. A friend of mine recently grumbled that they're an inefficient use of road space, which I don't agree with. No more that an average single decker bus. I think she's annoyed because she used to get the 73 to work from Stoke Newington to Angel every morning, and got 75% of her journeys for free because the conductor didn't make it up to get her saver ticket in time. On bendy buses, you have to get on at the front and surrender your saver ticket at the start of your journey. Unless you want to live dangerously and just risk the fine. Anyway - back to being fond of bendy buses. Getting on and off through three doors is great. Not having to show your travel card to a totally disinterested driver at the front is great. And the noise the bus makes when the driver puts the handbrake on sounds like a dog being run over. Every time I hear it, I think "oh shit, a dog's just run under the wheels of the bus." Every time. Which somehow adds some excitement to my daily commute.

I love routemasters too, but nostalgia and being able to hop on and off in slow traffic can't compensate for the fact that lots of the population can't use them because they're not lithe enough to run down the middle of Oxford Street after a bus, or able to magically raise their wheel chair into the air to "hop on".

Maybe routes could run 50% routemasters and 50% bendy buses? Blimey - with policy ideas like that, I should run for Mayor.

Anyway - for a far more in-depth, informed and interesting discussion about routemasters, pop over to Casino Avenue or Diamond Geezer. They're never more than a few days away from a discussion about them!

If you want somewhere to visit tonight, pop over to From A to B. It's an amazing challenge. Unfortunately I've cottoned on 5000 miles into a 6000 mile trip, but hey ho, I'll follow him for the rest.

Does eating a meal containing no meat make a man anxious about his penis size?

If R's colleagues are anything to go by, then yes.

Every week, he and his team of 6 co-workers go to their staff canteen for a team lunch. Every week, they ask the chef there if he would mind making something different to the normal menu for their group, and the chef agrees.

R can never participate, so every week, has whatever veggie option is going. I'm informed it is usually delicious.

But just once in a while, he thought it might be nice to be able to participate in the "special" meal. So has asked his 6 co-workers if they would mind it being vegetarian one week.

Bear in mind that anyone, even meat-eaters, can eat vegetarian food. Bear in mind that every week for the past 15 months, they've had a meaty special meal.

The selfish twunts refused!

May their tiny penises shrivel up and drop off.

Well my grazed knee from last Thursday has turned into a big baddie, just begging to be picked. I need to go on bouncy castles more often - baddies are great!

Inspector Sands will be pleased to hear that on the P4 bus from Lewisham to Loughborough Junction on Saturday evening, I went past Casino Avenue! I saw it out of the window and got quite excited, which probably says more about the level of excitement in my life at the moment that how exciting seeing a road called Casino Avenue is. That sentence was constructed very badly, ah well.

I spent part of Sunday morning grizzling, which seems to be a feature of my life at the moment. A friend was meant to come for lunch at 1pm. She phone at 5 to 1 and said she'd be there at 2. This made me cry. (Perfectly normal behaviour!) It turned out to be a good thing because it gave me an hour to compose myself, and talk through my wretched mental state with R.

In the evening, we decided that instead of sitting at home bemoaning the fact that it was a sunday evening, we'd take a tourist boat along the thames from 7-9. It was a great idea - London looked beautiful in the evening sunshine. The only downside was the commentary, which was fine if you like a bit of "racism-lite" with your sunday evening boat ride. I think the commentator must have offended just about every foreign tourist he had sat on his boat.

And today at work I felt a bit more like an old-timer. I knew the feeling would come eventually!

Ok, off for a jog now. That 10km won't run itself...