The muffin, the muffin, the muffin's on FIRE

Turning from my television set, half an hour previous to this posting, I was surprised to see a plume of smoke billowing energetically out of my microwave. 'Hmmm' I thought 'That doesn't look good' and then in quick succession 'That doesn't smell so good either' and then finally 'Ahhhhhhh, my eyes are burning from all this smoke.' Spurred into action I proceeded to run blindly around the room for a bit before flinging the door of the microwave open to reveal what looked like two small lumps of coal but which were in reality two of my Sainsbury's Finest Cracked Pepper and Cheese Muffins. By this time I was having to hug the floor so I could breath. I was petrified that the smoke alarm was going to go off any minute and that I'd finally have to meet my neighbours. It didn't. I can only conclude that what I have installed in my ceiling isn't a smoke detector at all but some other sort of detector entirely. Maybe it detects foxes or something.

Anyway, I am now shut away in my bedroom while the rest of the flat slowly desmokes via open windows and extractor fans. Hopefully when I open the door it won't be zero visibility anymore. Perhaps before this evening is out, I'll be able to see my TV again, who knows? Whatever happens, I have the unpleasant feeling that my home is going to smell like Pudding Lane circa. 1666 for a good few days to come. If there's a moral in this I am yet to find it.

Oh well, muffin ventured, muffin gained.

Groan!

In search of pecuniary fulfilment...

Alright, so it's not just pecuniary fulfilment I'm gunning for...

After a rather long hiatus, I feel obliged to our wonderful readership to update you on the meanderings of my existence. Also, Wide's little prick (or should I say, stab?) has spurred me into action.

Since I finished the grand master-verk in September, I have been variously engaged in going to Venice, snow-assisted light sabre fights, paint spillages and, perhaps most importantly, carving out a niche for myself in the rat race.

Sadly, like a marvellous ice-sculpture, one starts with a glowing, sharp view of one's expectations from a career. And as the competition heats up and the stimulating opportunities grow thin on the ground, there begins a sense of... slippage.
So, I have now broadened my ideal job description from 'creative academic benign-Machiavellian rock star activist' (something like bono, I suppose) to include other ways of making life better. Like policy research. Let's face it, I was always going to end up doing something of that ilk.... and I haven't really got the legs for leather trousers, which are probably necessary to fit the profile of the former career.

So! Its application time... and I am blowing my trumpet so vociferously that I am in danger of running out of metaphorical puff....

It's all going rather well

I can't decide if people write more when they're happy or sad. Look at Red, she writes when she's stressed, hence the proliferation of posts around dissertation time and now nothing. I write when inspired which is seldom if ever at home. This is no bad thing, my job is so stimulating that when I get back to the flat I just want to have a mug of Fairly-traded cocoa and to sleep. Or carve down digital slopes of binary snow to the sound of Paul Simon & Martha Tilston. Or watch something vaguely amusing on cable.

Favourite shows to be numbed by at the moment:

Wide's Top TV Pics

My Name is Earl - Very funny and stars the awesome Jason Lee who is due a bit of public recognition if you ask me.
Scrubs - The Wizard of Oz episode rocks
Life on Mars - Could go either way but it's better than almost everything on British TV at the moment
Hyperdrive - Not Red Dwarf alas, but probably better than Seasons 7 & 8
Celebrity Big Brother - Joking, I'd rather crush my eyeballs with my own hands

Have started rehearsing for Brideshead Revisited, I'm Sebastian, I have a teddy bear. I'm ever so excited and the group I'm working with have an actual theatre. Thrilling! That was me trying to sound a bit theatrical.

Did it work I wonder?

Little and often, that's the key.

Toodles.