is not happy. 
It's been a fair wee while since I've woken up on a Saturday morning with a head full of marmalade. Last night's meeting of the Mt Vic Vixens went so well I have somewhat of a hangover today.Tonight is the inaugural meeting of the Mt Vic Vixens, an eclectic group of sassy, funny, loud women who all work in PR and who, more through good luck than good management, have found themselves living within a five-minute radius of each other (in the inner-city suburb of Mt Victoria).
There will be wine, chat and gossip galore. Which is exactly what the end of the working week is begging for.
Last night I made this cannellini bean dip, which turns the garlic factor up to 11.
And this red-velvet influenced cake which has so much red wine in it, I won’t be serving it to kids any time soon (because ya’ll know how I’m in the habit of spending time in the company of children). The smell as it baked was so divine I almost clawed off the oven door. It might not look like much but I hope it tastes as good as it smelled...
There are things going on in the world - Obama is trying to silence all those nutty Republicans with his State of the Nation address, the European economy continues to melt faster than Arctic ice, and Egypt does some navel gazing a year on from its historic revolution.
However, in my little corner of the globe, the most significant thing that happened today was my Neal's Yard moisturiser finally ran out.
When we lived in Bristol, there was a divine Neal's Yard store a stone's throw from the Slum (if you threw a stone like a shot-putter). Obvs I was drawn to this emporium of loveliness and exchanged many, many pictures of the Queen for creams, potions and general girly-ness.
Sadly, there is no Neal's Yard in NZ and nor do they ship here.
So I shall have to go back to Clinque, with whom I cheated on my first love, Clarins. Alternatively, there's a gorgeous Kiwi brand, Antipodes. I've interviewed the founder/owner for magazines several times over the years and she's as lovely as her organic products are.
Already planning a visit to Neal's Yard when I return to the UK later this year.
There are oh, around 874 reasons but I've got limited time and we've all got lives to get on with, so I'll just mention one..
I stumbled across this story today on, of all things, the horrid Daily Mail (don’t ask what I was doing visiting!) which illustrates just one aspect of why the Book of Face is such a (insert expletive here) construct.
The tragic events took place in the UK last year when a depressed woman, Simone Back, left a note on her FB page saying she was going to commit suicide. Not one of her 1,082 online ‘friends’ bothered to help and, in fact, some of them even posted cruel messages saying she was a liar, that she wasn’t a child, that it was her own choice.
Simone passed away on Christmas Day. Not one ‘friend’ bothered to check up on her.
Somewhat ironically, a survey out today showed that while young adults have a lengthy roster of social networking friends, many have little confidence those friends will support them in times of great need. The poll, by Macmillan Cancer Support, of 1000 people aged 18-35 in Britain found the respondents had an average of 237 Facebook friends. But 61 per cent said they could only turn to two friends at most for support in a crisis.
Thirteen per cent of those surveyed felt they did not have even a single friend they could turn to for support when faced with a serious problem. Among men, 16 per cent had no friends to turn to, while for women the figure was 12 per cent.
Social networking sites could even sometimes have a negative impact on friendships, with 18 per cent of those who used such sites saying they saw or talked to their friends less often.
I work in communications, I understand the importance of social media but seriously, people...the Simone Back story has made me feel queasy all day.
(Pic credit: Google Images)
One chocolate banoffee pie to take to the Animator's sister's house for dinner. The occasion? His cousin and partner are over from London.
Last week I received a random call from an airline asking if I'd be interested in a media junket to Tasmania. Duh, that would be like asking Nicole Kidman if she'd like more Botox. 
(Pic credit: The Guardian)
This plopped into the Animator's inbox today.
You know the game you sometimes play when you're facing a deadline and the Muse is having a long lunch? You start wandering around a few blogs/websites and bam! Before you know it, time has evaporated. 
Not sure how old the Animator was in this pic but Joyce, his lovely mother, ferreted this gem out for me as we're currently reprinting some black and white shots for the new house.
Yeah, I know. But enjoy the sight, because Shazzy isn't in the habit of hanging out with anyone shorter than herself.
Today was my first day back at work for two weeks.
It was a little like doing backstroke in treacle. I had stuff to do, roadshows to organise, admin to adminstrate. I had, dammit, words to corral into articles and presentations.
Instead, all I wanted to do was be at home with this little guy, a pair of shorts and the sunshine, which finally decided to get out of bed.
Am hoping the return-to-workitis passes....
Molly's Dad Doug sent us some pics of our girl cavorting on San Francisco's Ocean Beach.
So last night the Animator's colleague Daniel came over to break bread with us.
He'd not long returned from a visit home to the US and had great stories to tell of celebrity sightings. There was, for example, the party at which Scarlett Johansson was in attendance, the restaurant where he sat a few metres from Bruce Willis, the gig at which he rubbed shoulders with the cast of Star Wars. For a celebrity whore like me, it was heaven.
FYI, the cheesecake was delicious. And even better the next day for breakfast.
And, later that month, a glorious week in Malta
And we took the Animator's cousins, who flew over from Belfast for the weekend for the Open Day, to Bath
And tried to avoid the snow, the first in Wellington in forever
