Pumpkin Spice – Disgusting or Nice?

Char and I went through the Starbucks drive-through this afternoon. We'd both had late night + early morning and we were dragging.

As we pulled up to the speaker, I spotted an advertisement for the seasonal Pumpkin Spice Latte out of the corner of my eye. I did a double-take. It's been years since I've had flavored syrup in my coffee, but I suddenly had the urge to partake.

Call it nostalgia, my afternoon sweet tooth or simply the thrill of the harvest—whatever the cause, I had visions of nutmeggy coffee dancing in my head. I'd forgotten all about my usual, modest 8-ounce latte and instead ordered a grande PSL. With whip? Yes, of course with whip.

• My first mistake – ordering a grande. Like a complete imbecile, I thought that grande is what comes after short. It's not. Grande comes after TALL. Tall is the size I was looking for. Instead, I received 16 mother-f-ing ounces of milky espresso. 

• My second mistake – ordering a Pumpkin Spice Latte. It's disgusting. The sugariness is jarring, but I suppose I could get over that. What's difficult to ignore is the way the pumpkin flavor clashes with the strong coffee flavor. It ends up tasting like sweet dirt. 

I'd hate to leave on a negative note, so here's some good news: my Halloween costume is sorted! I'd mentioned that I want to be a conehead, so my dear, sweet mother ordered me one on Amazon! She got one for Andy too. Bring on October 31st!

Headed to the 'couve tomorrow to hang out with my Grandma. Perhaps the two of us will record a video blog. 

Love ya, 

Margaret

Would a poop by any other name smell so bad?

What words and phrases do you hate?

I'm not fond of 'starter home'. When people say "it's our starter home" they are being pretentious.

My mom doesn't like it when people say 'no problem' or 'no worries' instead of thank you. Andy and I both admit that we do this all the time. Must be an our generation thing. She also doesn't like 'how's your day so far' or 'my bad'.

Andy hates when people throw 'go ahead' into a sentence for no reason. For example, "I'm going to go ahead and add you to the email list" or "If you could just go ahead and provide your feedback, that'd be great".

My dad can't stand when young people respond to something with a trail of yeahs. He says he'll often say something very interesting, only to be met with "yeah, yeah, yeahyeahyeahyeah..." Apparently it happens all the time.

Francie, according to Char, doesn't like the use of 'super' as a substitution for 'really'. For example, "their wedding photos were super cute" or "they just bought a super big starter home".

Oh god—want to know the WORST one? I was once working on some copy for a large UK bank and one of their employees let me in on some juicy insider gossip. An irritating new phrase was spreading like wildfire through their office.

"Please revert"

YEP. That's how people at this bank were signing off their emails. They'd say something like, "Hi Bob, I've attached those reports that you requested. We're keen to hear your feedback. Please revert. Thanks, Sally"

Is that not terrible? Please revert. It doesn't even really make sense. Apparently it originated in India. Software developers and other tech professionals were using in their emails to colleagues in the US and UK. And the rest is history.

In other news, today I got a strawberry smoothie (they call it a smoothie, but really it's a milkshake) from Tully's and it was TO DIE FOR. I don't know if it was just because I'd walked 35 minutes through a soulless business park on Mercer Island to get there, or if it really was that good, but boy did it hit the spot. Obviously it did, as I'm still thinking about it now, several hours later.

Goodnight,
Margaret

From the Archives, Edition 11

An entry in the Seaside guestbook, written by my mom in 1985. That's before the Margaret years, if you can even imagine such a time. 

    *                      *                    *

4-15-85

Arrived this afternoon with my four munchkins! Wonderful travelers! (translation: they all slept) We celebrated with a chocolate/vanilla swirl soft ice cream cone at Astoria. 

Max Kay said, over and over again, from the moment we got here, "It's so strange without Grandma Martha here. It's so strange." 

It peaked right at bedtime, when he burst out crying. "It's just that it's my first time here without her. It's so strange."

He's homesick for Martha, his Seaside mama. They all love you so. Anna commented at every Pig 'n Pancake billboard along the route, "Now Grandma Martha just loves the Pig. She even might walk up there with me and we could have pancakes. I bet she has orange marmalade on hers."

Char and Francie are two years old now, the absolute sweetest gals in the town. They lay fast asleep now, together in the bottom bunk, all curled up, holding onto each other's pacifier. The very best of friends. 

It's great to be back. First time in years that I've been here without a crowd. The kids are great—I am enjoying them immensely. (They're all sleeeping! Aha!)

Nan

    *                      *                    *

Yours,
Margaret

Book chat

We went to a bookstore today. Andy's been reading a book called 'American Generalship — Character is Everything: The Art of Command' and he was in the market for something a little less dull. He ended up choosing a book on the history of salt.

Save the occasional classic novel (e.g. 'Jude the Obscure') Andy only reads nonfiction. My dad is a sucker for mysteries. My mom, sistahs and I love memoirs. Max seems to enjoy a blend of all three.

I've never read a self-help book, but today I had an idea for one I'd like to write. Along the lines of Brian Griffin's 'Wish it. Want it. Do it.'

Title: 
'Grow Up — How to stop whining and start winning' 

Introduction: 
It's commonly thought that those who go into psychology and/or write self-help books are the craziest people of all. I don't dispute that. Believe me, I'm right there with you. In the weeds. In fact, this probably isn't even allowed in the self-help section. I'm guessing you found it tucked away behind the clearance calendars. 

However, what I can offer are a few tricks that have helped me find peace in this bizarre experience we call life (Or have they helped me? Jury's still out). 

Middle bit:
TBD

Conclusion: 
Ignore 70% of the negative feelings you have. Most aren't valid. Remember to eat regularly. Spend time with toddlers and the elderly. Go to either a beach or a forest once a week. 

Image via Wikia.com

Don't you think people would appreciate the honesty and buy it?

Later,
Margaret

A day at the beach

Mahalo, 

Margaret

P.S. This blog post. What a cop-out. 

Bus wanker

I ride the bus a lot. Having no car will do that to you.

For the most part, riding the bus is great. You get to zone out and swipe through Instagram as you cruise in the bus lane past bumper-to-bumper traffic. I also love pulling on the 'stop request' cord. In Edinburgh it's just a plastic button, so you can imagine how delighted I am to get to pull the cord again. So much more satisfying. Choo choo!

Image by Takeshita kenji via Wikimedia Commons

There are some things I don't love, however.

• The migraine-inducing air conditioning on full blast. 
• The waiting at bus stops.
• The man swearing aggressively at the driver who gave him flack for being a quarter short. 
• The lack of seat belts. Why aren't there seat belts?

 In high school my friends Dana, Connie and I would regularly take the bus to a thai food restaurant in Bellevue named Jasmine's. It was before anyone east of Lake City even knew about thai food—I swear. We would all order Pad Thai, then jasmine tea and fried ice cream for dessert. It was so grown up.

During one bus journey, a diet coke exploded in my shoulder bag. It had been jostling around in there when my compass—you know, those things you used to draw circles in geometry—pierced it. Stabbed it right through the aluminum! DC sprayed everywhere. I had to get up and ask the driver if he had any napkins. It was HIGHLY embarrassing. 

Another time, Char, Francie and I—ages 14 and 10—tried to take the bus to Bellevue but we got on the wrong one and wound up in Burien. Both start with "B", but other than that, we couldn't have gotten it more wrong. 

That's about it for bus stories! Other than the time a dear friend of mine got banned from all Northshore School District buses for threatening to kill our bus driver. That's the same driver that got told to "F--K OFF" by an otherwise gentle soul when she told him he couldn't bring his didgeridoo on board. 

Oh, and there was that one time in junior high that someone threw someone else's jeans out the bus window. Ninth graders be cray. 

Byeeeeee, 

Madgey


P.S. Here's Dana and I at Jasmine's (or just 'Jasmine' it looks like). Thanks for the photo, Dana!

My shoulder bag (aka 'satchel') also made it in the snap.

Why does your penis look like that?

That's what my nephew Freddie asked my sister Char as he pointed to her nipple.

"Mom, why does your penis look like that?"

I tell ya. Kids say the darndest things. Remember that show with Bill Cosby? To be honest, I didn't care for it much at the time, and that was before we all knew what we know now.

Went with a photo of a male nipple because of that damn double standard!!!!!!!!!!

Image by Xpoirotx via Wikimedia Commons

When my sister Anna was little, she pointed at a naked lady in the swimming pool locker room and said to my mom very loudly, "That lady as a BIG bottom!" And she was right. The lady did have a very large, very naked bottom. What could Nadinski do other than shake her head, give the lady an 'oh kids' look and scoot out of there as fast as possible?

Parents more than make up for their toddler's embarrassing honesty during the teenage years. Prime example: my mom bringing the camcorder to church and filming me being an alter girl. St. John Vianney had groomed me with the promise of a pizza party. Before I knew it I was donning a white robe and holding a giant bible for some B-team, no-parish-wants-him, pot-belled schmuck priest. I was half asleep, my hair was dripping wet from the shower and Nadinski had the nerve to capture it all on video.

When I have kids, I won't be embarrassing. I'll play it cool. I'll "get" it. But Andy? Him, I'm worried about. He'll be that dad. The dad with the bad puns. The dad that teases them about having a boyfriend. The dad who volunteers to chaperone school dances. The dad who blares Backstreet Boys as he picks them up from softball practice. He'll really be awful. Our poor future children.

Unrelated: is 'Can't Make You Love Me' by Bonnie Raitt the best karaoke ballad of all time? My cousin Maria says she sang it in New York at a karaoke dive bar and it brought the house down.

Love,
Margaret

By the light of the silvery moon

I just got back from a moonlit swim in Green Lake with Nadinksi (mother), Char (sister) and Maria (cousin). It was wild and sooooo earthy of us. It felt like something I'd read in someone's memoir—someone really interesting with this crazy, fun, slightly-on-the-edge life.

Doing elementary backstroke (my fave) and staring up at the stars, I tell ya, it was magical.

I even did two cannonballs off the diving board and water only went up my nose once.

Hold on. What's that? Oh, it's another controversial, Margaret-poops-on-everything opinion making its way from my brain to this blog. Buckle up.

ENOUGH WITH THE DAMN BLUE ANGELS.

They're airplanes that go really fast and do tricks. What am I missing? Why does Seattle worship them? At best, they're a 5 out of 10 on the entertainment scale. Totally average. Not to mention they're loud and the I-90 bridge has to close every time they take their circus act to the skies.

Also, they happen every year! Every summer. Multiple times a summer. I imagine they were awesome the first time, pretty good the second time...but now, on the 467th summer in a row, how can I be expected to feign interest?

To end on a positive note, I'm still loving my night shirt. So lightweight and airy. An absolute pleasure to sleep in!

Goodnight,

Margaret

Move over Tom of Maine...

...there's a new natural deodorant in town!

It's called Lāfes and—stick with me here—it actually works. Char got it in her Amazon Fresh order and, being the disgusting little sister that I am, I borrowed it for a couple weeks while I was "in between deodorants".

Of course I was skeptical. I've been a long-time Tom's of Maine hater. As much as I wanted to jump on the all natural, non anti-perspirant bandwagon, walking around with Italian bistro pits wasn't a sacrifice I was willing to make.

But Lāfes works! And here's the crazy thing: for me right now in this current moment, it works way better than Mitchum, Degree and Dove.

I don't expect it to last. I'll become immune eventually and need to switch brands. Pretty soon I'll be immune to them all and resort to some homemade baking soda lemon juice concoction. Once that wears off, I'll retreat to the woods to live among the wild llama, my furry brethren.

Well, that got weird. I've gotta go. I have a RHONY to watch. Loving Bethenny this season.

Peace,

Margaret

P.S. "That got weird" is the new "AWK-ward" and I hate it just as much. Sorry for using it.

From the Archives, Edition 8

It was so hot in Kenmore today that my iPhone took the day off. I left it in the car for a bit, it got hot, and when I tried to use it, the screen said, "Nope. Too hot. Try again later", or something to that effect.

Anyway, because of the heat and my lack of Sunday evening creativity, I decided it's the perfect time for a 'From the Archives' post!

In today's edition, I'm presenting several old emails from 2002 and 2003. They're some of the oldest emails I have on record.

---

Nov 8, 2002

Madge Kay

To Connie Gledhill

Connie, It is Friday night and I am writing to say I
am sooooo bored. Like, I cant take it. Please Please
Please call me if you read this tongiht. I am too
scared to call because I know Ronnie is in town and I
dont want to disrupt the fam reunion. But seriously, I
am so bored, I just felt the back of the computer and
it was warm and then I realized like a half an hour
had gone by and I was just feeling the warmth of the
comp. I am bored to tears. ahhh, madge

---

Nov 21, 2002

Madge Kay

To Anna Kay

American Idol was sooooo good. Anna, it was amazing. C
and F had really good seats and ours wernt bad but
they were just up high so at the very beginning we
moved down to really close on the side where no one
was sitting so it was great. BUT EVEN BETTER, it was
the "idols" last show of the tour so they were just
letting everything go and they didnt really care about
the rules, you could just tell. so when one idol would
be singing by themselves, the others would all sneak
up below the stage on the side but where they could
see the stage (hard to explain) and they would just
watch the person singing and dance around themselves
and just watched the concert from there, except when
they were on stage of course. but no one really even
knew they were there so the few people near us and us
(me and my friends) would wave and talk to them it was
sooooo cool. they were sooooo close to us, like ten
feet or less, and then i yelled "AJ!!!" and I made
this crazy excited face and he did it back. omg, it
was the greatest, plus they all sounded sooooo goood!
like they do on the cd, so good live which shows that
they are really talented. Also, because it was their
last show they like all bawled at the end and the
stage crew silly stringed them all and had a little
celebration. you could tell they really put their
heart and soul into this concert because it was there
last. it was soooo good. madge

---

Jan 17, 2003

Madge Kay

To Char Kay

pin a rose on your nose

just kidding

hows francie

hows spoke

im tired

and weak

its connies bday

and martin luther king jrs

this is indeed my email adress

whats it to ya

oh char

annas watching passions right now

my arm hurts

im a fast typer

space space

char you are a grand gal

see you soon

madge

---

What can we learn from all that? Not much. Not much at all. One thing I took away from it, however, is that American Idol used to be really, really exciting. The concert I reviewed so eloquently for Anna was the American Idol Season One tour. The Kelly Clarkson one. Remember what a phenomenon that show was when it first came out? HUGE deal.

Just a reminder of what 2002 looked like. Ryan Seacrest had a co-host.

What's Brian Dunkleman up to now? Doing standup in LA, apparently. Back in 2009 he pitched a show called 'American Dunkleman', but it never got picked up.

Until next time,
Margaret

Marry/Shag/Kill—Bartells, Walgreens, Rite Aid

Only 20 minutes to write this post. Gotta love a deadline.

Since I'm drawing a blank, I'll stick with an ol' classic: what I did today.

First, Andy, my mom and I went to see the movie 'The Wolfpack'. It's a documentary about a bunch of kids who weren't allowed to leave their NYC apartment for their entire childhood. They learned everything they know about the world by watching movies. The film is heartbreaking, but bizarrely funny and even uplifting at times. Mostly, it's fascinating. I highly recommend it.

Then, this evening, my sibs and I, together with our significant others, went out to dinner at Ray's in Ballard. We sat on the back patio and looked out over the Puget Sound. The gals sat at one table, the guys at another. We played the game where we all had to guess what our other-halves ordered. The winning pair was Char and William, who accurately guessed salmon tacos (Char) and steak (William).

On the ride home I asked Char, "Marry / Shag / Kill — Bartells, Walgreens and Rite Aid." She chose to marry Bartells, kill Rite Aid and you-know-what with Walgreens. I'd do the same.

Now it's time for bed. I'm still very full, so I'll have to sleep on my back.

Goodnight and good luck,

Margaret

Char and Francie

My sisters are named Francie and Char.

They are nice. 

I like then a lot.

Sometimes they are mean.

I sleep in their room sometimes.

I love them.

One of them eats a lot. 

When they get up they are sleepy.

Image caption: "I am huge"

They are in 5th grade. I am in 1st grade.

The end.

Goodnight, 

Margaret

The Bachelorette — SHIZE, I'm watching it

Let's just pause for a second to remember these facts:

• Benicio Del Toro has a baby with Kimberly Stewart (Rod Stewart's daughter / Paris Hilton's bff).

• Hally Berry once did a hit and run.

• Angelina Jolie kissed her brother on the lips on a red carpet and wore a vial of Billy Bob's blood around her neck.  

•  Oprah's real name is Orpah.

• When Sean Penn was married to Madonna, he hit her over the head with a baseball bat. 

• Jerry Springer was once the Mayor of Cincinnati.

Moving on...

I wasn't planning on watching The Bachelorette. It's been years since I partook in Chris Harrison's little matchmaking scheme, and I wasn't ready to jump back into the rose ceremonies, the teary confessionals, the steamy overnight dates, the skeptical father-in-laws-to-be...SIGH.

But then I heard some baristas at Starbucks talking about it. And my sistahs were planning a viewing party tonight. I didn't want to be the only girl in Kenmore who wasn't in the loop. Plus, Mad Men's over, Mindy Project's cancelled...

So, I'm WATCHING IT!

And I'm living for this drunk guy who they clearly paid to be obnoxious on night one. It happens every season. Oh boy, I think I might be enjoying this (she thinks, as she pops another bite-sized Reese's peanut butter cup in her mouth).

So long,
Margaret

P.S. "Partook"?

"You haven't even touched the water, FRANCIE!"

Not going to write tonight. Instead, watch this poor-quality, iPhone footage of poor-quality VHS camcorder footage of the sistahs and I jumping in a freezing cold pool in Wenatchee.

Witness:

Anna - being a typical button-pushing big sister.

Char - flaunting her model hair.

Francie - serving FACE FACE and more FACE after her icy plunge.

Me - wanting to join in the fun, but not wanting to be cold.



And because I don't want Max to feel left out, check out his cinematography and voiceover skills in this one:



 


Goodnight,
Margaret

Working like dogs

UGH. I hate, hate to have to do this. '

But I can't really blog tonight. 

Francie, Anna, Char and I are working on our BIZNASS! We're burning the midnight oil. It's horrible. When we're filthy rich, we'll look back on this evening and laugh.

Tired,
Margaret

Just say NO (but say YES sometimes)

"Would either of you be interested in giving me a shoulder massage in exchange for $10?

"No," Char and my mom answer in unison.

It was the response I expected.

"Rich will give you one," my mom suggests. "Ask him. He'll say yes."

"Do you ever take advantage of the fact that he's so nice?" I ask.

"Oh yeah," she says. "In the early days I used to call up my sisters and say, 'you won't believe it—he'll do anything I say!'"

This got us talking. Apparently my aunt Mona* remembers exactly when my mom stopped doing things for her when they were growing up. Everybody has a limit—eventually.

I too remember when I finally said no to my siblings. I was 10 years old and we were downstairs at the 'new' house. It was the first time I'd ever lived anywhere with stairs, and when one of them asked me to get them a glass of water, I really didn't want to hike up all those steps to the kitchen.

So, I said no. What a revelation! I'd been their slave for years and all along the solution was a simple, two-letter word. NO!

Well, this is odd. What's up with his eyes? Levar Burton, is that you?
Image via Wikimedia Commons

There's a fine line between being nice and being a sucker. My dad, of course, said yes to the shoulder massage without hesitation—but that's because he's nice! And it's good to be nice. The world is a better place because nice people give other people shoulder massages. Or they agree to get people glasses of water when asked. But it's possible for both parties to take it too far.

What's the lesson here?

• Super-nice people of the world: curb your instinct to say 'yes' to everybody. You'll get burnt out and resentful.

• Less-nice people of the world: curb your instinct to bleed super-nice people of their innate goodness and use it to your advantage. 

It's all about balance. Everything in moderation (even moderation!!! HA HA HA HA).

Cheerio,
Margaret

P.S. Corn-on-the-cob tonight and popcorn. You know what that means. Girl's gotta floss!

* In a previous edition of this blog post, I referred to my aunt Barb when I meant my aunt Mo. Madgespace regrets the error!

From the Archives, Edition 7

A bit of background before I share this amazing letter from my sister Char (age 11) to Grandpa Padden.

My grandpa made a deal with all us grandkids: don't watch TV for a year and you'll get $250 (some of the first-responders / his favorites got $500 — the lucky ducks).

Now, if you were to set me that challenge today, I would laugh in your face. But back then, $250 was soooooo much money. If you consider inflation and the worldview of a child's not-yet-fully-developed brain, $250 was the equivalent of $250,000. It was more money than I ever thought I'd have in my life.

We all did it. And it wasn't just no TV, but also no movies (with the exception of those watched in a cinema). I distinctly remember my cousin Albee sitting behind the television set and listening to the Olympics during her year sans tube. Even that was considered a grey area and potential breach of the contract.

Anyway, that's the context of this letter. Read and enjoy.

There's a lot to love about this letter, but mostly this: "Maybe you could send it to me in an envelope or something like that."

BAahhahahhaaha!

Way to really spell it out for him, Char. Just in case he doesn't know how the mail works. 

I love this because I recognize the tactic as something I do all the time—to this day—in emails when I'm trying not to be too pushy. She even threw a smiley face in there! Long before emojis existed, people still used smiley faces to say, "I'm using a nice tone. Read this knowing that I'm using a nice tone" :)

Also, it's great that she only asks for $25 of the total $250. After all, she's a reasonable woman. She's willing to put him on a payment plan. 

Surfs up!

Goodnight,

Margaret

Heartburn

For the past few days I've been experiencing heartburn.

I know, how poetic.

It all started when a bit of San Pellegrino lemon soda went down the wrong tube. That, combined with a very unhealthy stretch of takeaway curries, Dominoes pizza and afternoon flat whites, has only made it worse.

Indigestion. I'm a person with indigestion. Just proves that you never know what life is going to throw at you.

Speaking of achy hearts and life, today I started to say goodbye to Edinburgh. I've said goodbye to all of my friends; now it's time to bid farewell to the city itself.

This morning Char, William, Freddie, Elsie and I walked up Calton Hill. We endured the freezing winds—both F and E with runny noses—and looked out across Leith and the Firth of Forth.

The scene was painted in typical Edinburgh grey. Grey buildings. Grey clouds. Grey ocean. Edinburgh wears grey well. But I'm excited to return to the Emerald City.

Someone needs a haircut.

Only a month until this crew is back in sunny Sea-town too. 

This evening I went for a brief run around the Meadows, stopping at the Quartermile Sainsbury's to buy some antacids. From there I walked the familiar route home across Forrest Road, past Greyfriars Bobby on George IV bridge and along Victoria Terrace to our flat on Upper Bow.

"Take it all in!" I told myself.

Now I'm sitting on the couch typing this, and I can feel the sweat drying on my back. I better get in the shower before the bacne kicks in.

Your pal,
Margaret

P.S. I'm pretty sure these heartburn tablets are just dried squares of toothpaste.

P.P.S. Andy and I starting a new show tonight. 'The Jinx'—and HBO miniseries. I've heard it's good. I'll let you know.

From the Archives, Edition 5

Char and I just did our US taxes. It was HELL. Even though we don't have to pay anything because we pay our taxes in the UK, we still have to file in the US. It's sooooooo lame.

All of this is to say, it's definitely a 'From the Archives' night.

Found this lil' gem hiding in among the unlisted videos on my YouTube channel. Note how English Andy sounds. I never thought living in Scotland with an American really had much of an effect on his accent, but I guess I was wrong!

Also, I blame my cousins Conor and Spencer for giving me a complex about my upturned pig nose. They would always point it out and I still try to "reshape" it every night before bed!




TGIF,
Margaret

I'M BAAAAAAACCCCCKKK!!!!!!

Guess who's back back back, back again gain gain? Grassy's back back back. Tell a friend friend friend.

It's been a while! I don't even remember how to type. I have to keep reminding myself to rest my fingers on 'home row'.

But it feels great to be back in action.

Heck, I even made an iMovie about it.

Guest Blog Week: Review

Thanks to everyone who helped make the first annual Madgespace Guest Blog Week a resounding success. Thanks to the talented guest posters, to my legions of loyal fans and to Char Kay for organising the whole thing.

Every evening I'd get the text from Char saying the next post was ready to go. I'd quickly flip open my laptop, head to the blog and drink in every word. Not only was it amazing to be relieved of my blogging responsibilities for a while, but, dare I say it, it was refreshing to read voices other than my own.

I realised that THIS is what life's all about. Family blogging. OK, no, not family blogging—what I mean is that life is all about creating. Or at least it should be. I'm at my happiest when I'm creating something, be it a homemade Thai curry or a blog post about toilet paper alternatives. I like the challenge, the process and the end result. I also enjoy the creations of others. It's a great way to get to know people and see a different side to them.

Basically, what I'm saying is we should all get together and Mod Podge photos and magazine cut-outs onto an Ikea bookcase. You in?

Life update

OK, so you're dying to know what I've been up to during my week off.

Here's what I've been doing:

• Getting loads of migraines. Seriously! Char hypothesised that blogging may be the cause, but now I'm thinking it might be the only thing keeping my kopf from exploding.

• Watching every episode (so far) of HBO's 'Silicon Valley'. I wasn't convinced at first, but the more I watched, the more I liked. 

• Getting my bowl cut frisked at airport security. I had to go through the body scanner, then afterward the lady said, "And I'll just go ahead and check your hair." She patted me on the head like I was a labrador. 

• Hanging out with Andy before our FIVE MONTH stint apart. We've been eating lots of Sainsbury's fishcakes and watching The Americans, Better Call Saul and House of Cards. If you still aren't watching The Americans, it's time you take a long look in the mirror and reevaluate your life. The show's great. 

See you tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, 

Margaret

P.S. If you're not going to produce an iMovie in honour of yourself, then who is? 

Don't hate. Don't wait. Make yourself an iMovie today.