GOOD: Two rather major food-related-developments have taken place in my world recently. Firstly, I'm in the Independent today talking about online cookery clubs of all things. I'm not too keen on the picture of me that they've used, but seeing as I look like an obese Easter Island statue on camera at the best of times, I suppose it's not too bad really. And at least they got my really rather fine Lego Head Kitchen Scales in there, providing me with epic cool points (I think).

Secondly, I've started my own food blog. It's called 'From Bootle with Love' and will be focusing on food and drink culture in the North West of England. Also, I'm planning on putting some recipes on there which are a little too complex for Domestic Sluttery. So far, I'm not entirely sure that anyone's bothering to read it, but never mind - I'm a stubborn little miss at the best of times, and intend to keep writing it until people come to their senses and realise I'M THE BEST actually decide to pay some notice to it. Oh, and naturally I'll keep plugging it to all and sundry too - which means I'll probably be around here even less than I am at the moment.

I'm having all sorts of issues with Livejournal presently - and keep deviating between whether I'm going to keep writing here or just jack it in entirely in order to save my own scant grip on sanity. I've still not made a decision yet (and knowing me, I'll probably keep checking it anyway as I have a horrible habit of getting drunk and reading previous stuff I've written), but yes, if you're wondering why I'm not around here as much as I used to be, that's why. Well, that and the fact that I'm horrifically busy with important web lady stuff* of course.

BAD: I had my three month appraisal yesterday where my boss praised my professional attitude and business like manner. So of course this morning I had to have a meeting with a client where everything that could go wrong did go wrong. When I got to the meeting room it was locked and I had to run around our building looking for the key. My laptop decided not to work. And - worst of all - just I was showing the client out, the heel of my shoe decided to skid on a patch of newly polished floor leading to me going arse over tit in front of them. CLASSY. I appear to have a horrible habit of falling over at the moment - just the other week, I was walking to work whilst wearing some lovely summery (and ludicrously high) wedges when my wobbly gazelle legs decided to have a bit of a moment - leading to me falling over in a rather spectacular fashion and flashing my knickers at passing traffic (which included a packed bus). Seriously - either the pavements of Liverpool don't agree with me, or I'm turning into Frank Spencer. Oooh Betty.

*Twitter