Mmmmm. Minty Fresh Blogger.

Blogger has gone all flash. Heres hoping that it doesn't confuse Claire-the-computer-amoeba too much.
I've been getting loads of "please give me an invite to gmail". I don't think you were understanding my point. I am a poor student, and because I'm getting nothing for free, except the departmental love, I ain't giving away squat. Give me incentives, people, and then I will share the love.
The winner at the moment is lemdg, who at least is making an effort. Although when I logged in today, there was no gmail love.
Perhaps the moment's gone.

In other news, I was somewhat of a machine yesterday. Got up at 10.30 am, cleaned the house, tidied my room (in itself a Herculean task), did my washing, vacuumed, cooked an omlette (how do you spell that?)ate said eggy goodness, and was at my office desk by 2pm.
Fucking legend. I then proceeded to search through a gazillion documents, find several gems of infomation, have half a dozen good ideas, before going home again, bringing in the washing, lighting the fire and going to work.
Needless to say, I more than made up for it today by sleeping until nearly 11am. Doh!

Had a customer on one of my tables last night who not only had a very unfortunate mullet, was wearing a waistcoat and held his cutlery in his fist, but enquired as to whether we stocked Blenheimer wine. As in, the stuff in those funny bottles that only nanas and 14 year old girls drink. Chefs won't even use it for cooking, it is that shit.
Now we're far from being a fine dining restaurant, hell, we have dirty old Hardy's Chardonnay on the winelist (which I won't let customers buy, cos its shit, always talk them up to a better one), but Blenheimer? I was waiting for some candid camera crew to appear.
On the same table was some bloke from America who had serial killer spectacles on (you'll know the type when you see them) and was dressed like some oil tycoon, with the big brooch/cowboy type tie on, who was telling all his mates about John Denver's plane crash in great detail.
I wonder if people know that I listen in on their conversations. Maybe not, cos I look like a generic blonde waitress. (insert ominous sounds of brain ticking over, devising cunning plans)There is really a great advantage in keeping ones mouth shut and appearing much simpler than one is.

Anyway, deadlines and all that.
51 days, in case you needed to know. Fuckit.
Am trying to find a way to post finished product on the inter-web thingy, for keen readers perusal. Also for "look at what I can do, give me a cool job please" purposes.
Doubt I can post a 35,000 word thesis, plus tables, appendices and bibliography in a blog. Sure fire way to lose the few readers I have.
Gonna make like a tree and fuck off now.