A bit more recognition

Oh, forgot to mention that another of my photos has been published, in an online guide to London! It’s a shot of the gorgeously camp interior of Salieri’s restaurant on the Strand. Hilariously enough, I was completely drunk when I took it, I mean literally falling over. One day I’ll blog about that night, but right now I need to go and see Shrek in Czech.

Can someone fill me in on the plot tomorrow once I’ve seen it?

Posted: July 9, 2007 Comments (4)

I’d like to thank…

It’s official, Despina has the power of Schmooze!

shmooze

Once I’ve worked out how to display this award I can officially call myself a schmoozetastic blogger! To quote from the Princesse,

According to Mike from Ordinary folk who designed the award, "Schmoozing as defined by Dictionary.com is the ability “to converse casually, especially in order to gain an advantage or make a social connection""

which makes me think that if I was this schmoozetastic away from the blogoshere, I’d be getting a heck of a lot more singing work… hmm. Incidentally, does anyone else think Schmooze sounds like one of those delicious American-Jewish words, like Schmuk or Chutzpah?

I now have the fluffy and not to mention delicious opportunity to pass this award on to five other worthy bloggers (although many of my favourite blogs already have the honour so I can’t give them this award). My five winners are:

Little Miss Awkward because she’s schmoozetastic herself, full of encouragement, and often manages to be hilarious and very thoughtful in the same post. Check out her babysitting and dinner party mis-haps as she adjusts to life in France.

Mya because she loves Jeeves and Wooster and hates her mother in law and makes me laugh with her stories of French village life.

Doris who is single-handedly running the English countryside with heaps of panache, and reminds me of happy holidays spent in stately homes.

Eliza so she doesn’t forget about her blog as she works hard to become a doctor. Keep going me dear!

Jez because… well, because. Y’know. He’s amazing and he oozes charm like a 50s film star (and the stuff he does with that blog of his makes me scream).

Stratford Girl, Lis, if someone hadn’t got to you first I certainly would have done! Love both your blogs to bits. Tall One, lovey, mwah mwah, you know I think the world of you, I don’t need to give you a blog award for you to know that! 

I’d like to thank the sexy Princesse Ecossaise for the prize and lovely write-up and for being my first blog-buddy, Catherine for coming to Prague, Mum and Dad for keeping things ticking over back in Manchester, Kyne for lending me his corkscrew and buying gluten-free biscuits, the cleaners for changing my bin, finally, my boss for making me some more jam and inviting me on holiday, the museum curator for being eccentric and speaking English, everyone who has left me encouraging comments whilst I’ve been feeling a bit poo (blog-friends and Manchester friends alike), the train conductor who saved me from a surprise trip to Brno - surprise! - the men on the tube who thought I was a hooker, Frasier and Niles, my singing teacher, my French teacher, my Italian teacher, and last of all because he is the best, my boyfriend because of millions of reasons which I’ll tell him about on Wednesday night.

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A special place in hell

***DISCLAIMER: I’m actually quite a nice person***

Over the course of the weekend, I’ve decided that there is a special place in hell, alongside the murderers and perverts, for the following people. Here, in no particular order:

  • Commuters who don’t "prosim" and stand up for older people or pregnant ladies.
  • Those who push people out of the way or stand on them rather than say "excuse me".
  • Those who stare at me.
  • Those who ever try to shhhh me or censor what I say.
  • People who speak "my three words of English are better than your pathetic attempts to speak my language" English to me.
  • People who steal mine and my friends’ stuff from the kitchen.
  • Waitresses who ignore people - even when they’re busy, an acknowledgement would be nice.
  • People who talk during concerts (but then stand up at the end because the guide book says that that’s how Czechs show their appreciation).
  • People who clap between movements. (I mean symphonies etc. Not bowel movements. That would just be weird.)
  • People who take photos of performers during concerts. The words don’t exist for how mad this would make me as a performer.
  • The old people who were snogging on the metro.
  • Stag dos (most).
  • Hen dos (most).
  • (Extra pitch-fork poking for stags and hens wearing matching t-shirts with vulgar slogans, singing football songs / drinking lambrini in the check-in queue, etc you get the idea).
  • The English pubs, the Irish pubs, and all who drink in them. Eng-er-land!
  • People who tell me my diet is a good idea. What are they trying to say?
  • People who tell me not to diet - do they not care? Are they blind?
  • Mums and dads who can’t keep control of their rotten kids.
  • People who disagree with Despina.

This is a completely unbiased commentary on today’s society, and all contradictions of Despina’s opinions will be treated with the contempt they deserve.

GRAAAAARRRRR!

PS. More hell-dwellers

  • The "plain-clothes" store detective in Rossmanns who searched my bag (although I did like the way she flashed me her ID, I would have had no idea otherwise…)
  • The weirdo who finished yesterday’s internet session at exactly the same time as me and followed me out of the café and onto Wenceslas Square. Freak.
  • The cleaning ladies, for not changing my bin because of some public holiday, making my flat smell of expired pork.
  • My corkscrew, for breaking - again.
  • My ex-boyfriend, for any number of things, not least that 2,000 quid he owes me.

***UPDATE: The bloody bitch is still following me round Rossmanns! Does she think the reason I have such a great wardrobe is because I’ve never paid for a bottle of shampoo in my life?***

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