Dear Diary

13th March 2014

Dear Diary,

It’s been a long time since we last spoke, basically I just want to use and abuse you when I’m feeling like a rant, so maybe that means things have been good? Well yes I suppose they have but me not ranting on a semi-regular basis is pretty unlikely! I guess I’ve just been too flat-out to moan! (except when I’m behind the wheel of a car – that’s too damn therapeutic to neglect!)

Got these damn Skittles on my desk and I know I shouldn’t be eating them but what the heck, I need sugar for inspiration (nutritionists look away!) So I guess now that I have committed myself to this blog I’d better get back in the habit (images of self in a nun’s costume – which quickly turn to Robbie Coltrane in a habit and the comparison is just too frightening for a 40+ woman who is kicking and screaming wildly to menopause!)

Maybe I should explain how all this came about. Well I work for a Japanese company who bought Branston pickle, Haywards pickles and Sarson vinegar as an office/facilities manager and EA to the MD, which I grant certainly doesn’t sound particular creative, but you never know where the inspiration is gonna grab you.  I organise our conferences, and the first one I did I had 5 days to arrange, which when you’re using bespoke recipes, getting branded products created, is very little time. Anyways, like a moron I trusted this 4 star chef with our recipes without doing a pre-tasting, big – HUGE! mistake. Being a Japanese company, apart from having things like beetroot chocolate cake and obviously chips, we wanted also to have sushi, but OMG you should have seen what this hotel did to the sushi, seriously, it was like rancid shark and you could smell it’s anger when you stepped foot in the room – I was horrified! My first conference smelt like a Billingsgate holocaust! I looked at our Japanese colleagues, fearful that they would take this as a disrespectful insult, but it was so bad even they were laughing! Needless to say, I was never going to let that happen again and the only way to ensure that was to write the recipes myself and have a pre-tasting when I needed to organise the next big conference.

So I got writing, and the more I thought about it, the more my mind was stuck in food mode. I’ve always played around with cooking. Making up recipes, twisting recipes, for example I always felt my vegetarian friends missed out on a lot of recipes, so I would do make rude food, like ‘Dildo au vin’ (fake Coq au vin – Chicken in wine basically) or Strap-on Satay (you can work that one out yourself!) Who knew there could be so many uses for Quorn!

I love communicating, especially writing, and I have always loved playing with food, I just hadn’t put the two together before. So that’s how it started in a nutshell. Now I have written over 100 recipes (not one with a Dildo recipe insight I might add!), put a book together and then wondered who the hell would want to read a book by me? I mean, I’m nobody, just a fairly passionately animated politically incorrect OM who used to be an astrologer and TV presenter, and say used to be. I wasn’t really a has been more a never quite got there! (mmm now tucking into a Jazz apple, much healthier but do I ever stop eating?! – behave Cybs, focus on the writing!)

So then I was stumped, what next?! Most cookery books only get published because they are celebrities, what on the earth was my hook? How could I make this work? But him upstairs likes orchestrating things and you never know how things will materialise.

So quickly- I moved into this very cute 2 double bed garden flat in St Margaret’s, which I had initially thought as a perfect place for me and my future foster kids (that’s my big dream but more on that later) but it all went tits up quite quickly when I realised how paper-thin the walls were and how rabid my neighbours above me were in their collective grief. Within 3 months I had clocked 16 domestics! I figure that whilst it’s an apparently affluent area, I think everyone is mortgaged to the hilt trying to impress everyone that they are so stressed out that they’re on the brink of combusting! So not a good place for kids that need to heal. But crap, I’m now tied into a lease, can’t even think of getting out of it for the first 4 months, and then I need to have the deposit saved again as I won’t get my deposit back until I’ve left. I definitely felt like I’d backed myself into a corner.

So the next step was renting out my spare room and I thought the best solution would be to find someone who was just there Mon-Fri and then I’d get my weekends to myself. So I placed an ad and some how the universe seemed to have a plan of its own. I received a few enquiries from one guy who looked like a tobacco chewing ferret and I really couldn’t see us having much in common, another was a  40 something party girl – didn’t fancy that as figured I may find strange bods staggering around the flat at 3am on a Saturday morning, then I received an email from this French girl who wasn’t looking for Mon-Fri abut full time nd who was looking to pay less than I was advertising, but there was something about her that I liked and before I knew it everything was signed sealed and delivered. I figured if I was going to share my home with someone I had to feel right about them.

Anyways, I won’t go into the whole story now, but as much as I helped her she helped me. Now she’s half my age (almost eek!) so her world is a different one to mine, though we did have a lot in common. But she specialised in social media. Now I get the internet, love it love it! I’m an information hound so to have the world’s library at my fingertips is amazing and which I never tire of, but seriously I thought twitter was for twits, and I really didn’t understand it’s merits until ma petite French amie arrived! So she enlightened me and now I get it, though I have to admit, I do feel a bit like I imagine my great-grandmother would feel when faced with a computer! It’s 2nd nature to kids these day and if you have no reason to play around on it, it is a bit of an anomaly – yes I know giving away a treky past! But thanks to ma petite amie it is a mystery no more! And that’s how I managed to get myself to this point, sharing my diary with the world! I’m not really to bothered about exposing myself like this coz I can’t imagine who on the earth would be interested enough to read all my diatribe!

So now I’m writing a blog, learning about tweeting and hooting and feel slightly more hip than I really am (I guess using the word hip, actually cancels out any hipness achieved!) So now I have set the scene, my next diary posting should hopefully be somewhat lighter in content.

I feel good about all of this though. I always wanted my own little magazine and that’s what I get to do here. I can post my recipes, when I’m brave enough I will film them too, I can have my problem page,  stuff that really interests me and talk about anything and everything!

So diary, now we are up to speed I shall love you and leave you until next time! Tout á l’heure !

Cybs 🙂


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