On shoes, colleagues and the changing seasons

Liz‎'s footwear is now apparently her colleagues' main indicator for the change of season: "Liz - you're wearing shoes...it must be spring!" [Presume they mean as opposed to boots. Definitely have not been barefoot for the last 4 months.]

On divine fitness regimes

Liz suspects that having to run for the train after the gym is God's way of telling her that her workout wasn't good enough.

On celebrity spotting at church

Liz has stood on a chair to do many things, but not (until today) to see Madonna.

On depressed Saturday nights

Liz is in her pj's, under the duvet & watching When Harry Met Sally. This could be an unhappy end to Saturday...

On over ambitious sleep aspirations

Liz is going back to bed in the hope that on waking, full sanity will be restored.

On pain in the name of beauty

Liz is wondering at what point the number of plasters required to wear the pretty red shoes with some degree of comfort outweighs the prettiness?

On complimentary football thugs

Liz has decided that "We love your purple wellies" is probably the most affirming thing ever to be shouted by a Millwall fan.

On the inspirational power of special shoes

Liz has decided that packing for week's camping will be a whole heap more fun if she prances around in her purple wellies while doing it.

On creating domestic excitement

Liz has heightened the excitement of washing up by having to get everything clean before all the water drains out of the small hole in the washing up bowl.

On football and blindness

Liz is wondering whether the fact that she didn't bother putting on her glasses till half time says more about the level of excitement of the final or her level of interest in it.

On religious colleagues and a fortune telling octopus

Liz has decided that the problem with working for the church is that people think way too much. Ridiculous conversation of the day: does Paul the octopus have a soul and will he be upset if he gets the result wrong?

On ridiculous early morning phone calls

Liz dearly loves receiving phone calls from her sibling and is always grateful for disused underground station factoids, she's just not such a big fan when these things happen at 7.45am on a day off.

On episcopal accidents

Liz just had a 'nearly colliding with the Archbishop of Canterbury' incident.

On over-sized stationery #2

Liz has decided that A1 Post-It notes are officially 8 times more exciting than A5 Post-It notes.

On stationery excitement #1

Liz didn't know you could get A5 Post-It notes - officially the highlight of the day so far.

On historic office paraphernalia

Liz heard a strange noise emanating from a far-corner of the office. After 5 minutes pondering and confusion, it was revealed to be a (dusty) fax machine.

On mathematical office equipment

Liz is using a calculator - an actual calculator. Proper old skool...

On indigenous clothing

Liz never wishes she actually owned a grass skirt more than when she sees 'guests are encouraged to wear their national dress' on invitations...

On being a bit dappy

Liz wondered why the shower seemed unusually steamy and then realised she still had her glasses on.

On the National Theatre's idea of art

Liz has spent the evening watching a play about rent boys with her mother. Quality family entertainment.

On evil stationery

Liz has just stabbed herself in the back with a biro.

On shell-shaped chocolates

Liz has decided Guylian fruits de mer are as far as she's willing to experiment with sea food.

On thinking far too much about the plot of Glee

Liz is struggling to suspend disbelief that Rachel can't recognise Idina Menzel's voice, when we know that Defying Gravity's her all-time favourite showtune. A ridiculous thing to worry about? Quite possibly.

On acting stupidly in the midday sun

Liz is tinged pink thanks to the sun and a teeny bit of embarrassment.

On being uncannily similar to Rachel from Glee

Liz: ‎"I'm like Tinkerbell - I need applause to live!"

On rare cricketing victories

Liz is savouring the presence of the phrase 'England thrash Australia' on the Guardian homepage...it'll probably be a while before that appears again.

On lessons learnt while hair styling

Liz has now learnt not to multi-task when one of the tasks involves super-hot curling tongs.

On friends' bizarre purchasing choices

Liz still cannot believe she witnessed the purchasing of not one, but three slankets this afternoon.

On the importance of exercising your democratic rights

Liz has a message for those who don't think their vote counts: Fermanagh & South Tyrone has just returned a MP with a 4 vote majority. That's FOUR votes people - how gutted would you be if you'd just not got around to voting...

On near disenfranchisement owing to fire

Liz had many thoughts going through her mind whilst locked out of the gym for an hour with just her gym kit & iPod. Catching hypothermia, dying from embarrassment by being outside in public in vest & shorts and wondering what caused the fire were sidelined by the fear that she might not make it to the polling station in time. [She made it - in her gym kit.]

On her inability to get through ticket barriers and the evil-ness of TfL

Liz suffered the double humiliation of getting stuck in a ticket barrier and being yelled at by a TfL employee this morning. In future she will not ask for help to get unstuck and will instead remain in the barriers all day...

On clergy encouraging political violence

Liz was encouraged by a vicar to kick any Conservatives she passed on her way out of church, but resisted the urge to do so. Moral high ground taken and faith in clergy restored.

On unsuitable film choices when broken-hearted

Liz reckons tonight is probably not the night to watch He's Just Not That Into You and will instead edify her mind with her film choice, possibly via something subtitled...

On sagely advice

Liz is enjoying the irony of the fact that she's dispensing the advice she should have taken herself an awfully long time ago. Clearly wisdom doesn't come with age...

On the damage summer does to feet

Liz has feet that are covered in a patchwork of assorted plasters - unicorns, Snoopy, Mr Bump, clear and cushioned - she's walking the fine line between needing blister protection and triggering her plaster allergy...

On moments of cheer during days of despair

Liz was suitably cheered on her long walk home by a random man in a cloak shouting at her: "Cheer up! I'm the goth - you should be smiling!"

On divine diets

Liz resisted ordering amazing pub chips at lunch, but it turned out God wanted her to have some and ensured their delivery. Free food's calorie-free though, surely?

On the parental dangers of blogging

Liz has just discovered her parents have weekly "let's discuss what Liz has written on her blog" sessions and keep score of how many times they get mentioned. How can this be normal?

On appropriate locations for whipped cream

Liz‎'s thoughtless comment of the day: "there's an appropriate place for whipped cream - on top of coffee in Starbucks is not it."

On new shoes & blood stains

Liz forgot the golden rule of new shoe wearing - always have plasters. Another good thing about red shoes: the blood stains don't show...

On over-exaggerating a friend's mistakes while driving

Liz has never achieved so much with so few syllables. One "errrrrrmmmmmm!" was all it took to save not just one, but two lives...

On new shoes versus work

Liz was overjoyed to reach her desk this morning - though this was more to do with the shoebox sat on it (containing shiny red shoes) than the excitement of another day's work.

On political disillusionment

Liz is not watching the debate and is instead cleaning the bathroom. That's how disillusioned she's become with British politics. Her former politics teachers would be so sad...

On family members affected by volcanic ash

Liz is relieved that both family members that were stranded on the wrong side of different bits of water (Manchester & Germany) now have alternative transport home. Fortunately neither have had to resort to swimming.

On blindness and parents

Liz travelled to Manchester and back without her glasses and got 20mins with her Dad. Two achievements, though fortunately after 28 years she's now able to identify her father despite visual impairment.

On being prepared for marriage

Liz has just discovered a wedding dress at the back of her cupboard of junk...sometimes she really does take 'be prepared' far too seriously.

On random Friends trivia

Liz has just heard the best piece of TV trivia courtesy of E4's continuity announcer: "This is the first episode of Friends ever shown on E4 and this is the 65th time it's been on."

On sororal telepathy and dressing

Liz has successfully dressed without wearing the same outfit as her sister - unlike yesterday. Crazy sororal telepathy...

On sisterly arguments resulting from diets

Liz would like some clothes back from her sister, having given them to her when they no longer fitted. Now that they'll fit again, Liz would like to wear them but her sister says that this is quite unreasonable. Who's right?

On Spotify's errant recommendations

Liz: no Spotify, Harry Secombe is not someone I might like to listen to.

On diet achievements

Liz is celebrating 52 weeks : 53 pounds

On train carriages being turned into aviaries

Liz now knows the answer to the question 'what happens when a pigeon gets trapped inside a train carriage'...

On not being able to deal Christmas stress

Liz didn't throw a tantrum in the Post Office - the cards simply slipped from her hands whilst gesticulating wildly, she really wasn't intending to hurl them at the 'helpful' assistant...

On winter accessories for canines

Liz always thought pitbulls were rather ugly dogs, until she met one wearing a stripy scarf this morning. Any ideas on where might sell scarves for labradors?

On the morning after singing for many, many hours

Liz rather likes the sound of her voice this morning. However, as she is totally alone this means she's spent some time talking to herself, which is concerning.

On the effects of insomnia followed by a very busy, very long day

Liz is beyond tired. In fact, she passed tired several hours ago and has progressed through exhaustion to totally cream-crackered. A whole, uninterrupted night's sleep would be much appreciated.

On the dangers of Christmas decorations

Liz has christmassed the flat, though there was a moment when she was encircled in a tangle of fairy lights and wasn't sure that she'd make it.

On meetings and mothers

Liz will be spending the afternoon in a meeting with her mother. You'd be forgiven for thinking it was 'bring your parents to work' day, but no, it's just my random life...

On nail varnish & compliments

Liz is grateful to the lady in Waitrose for complimenting her nails, but probably won't follow through on her suggestion that she become a professional manicurist...

On shopping and over indulging the night before

Liz survived an afternoon at Brent Cross in a slightly hungover state. More importantly, her fellow shoppers also lived to tell the tale.

On British fashion

Liz cannot understand why warm, waterproof clothing cannot be both practical and aesthetically pleasing.

On googling and stalking

Liz appears to have a blog stalker at Google, which is ironic seeing as she usually uses Google to stalk others...

On 'interesting' hotel locations

Liz is trying to decide which is more amusing - that her hotel's opposite a sex shop & tattoo parlour, or that the hotel receptionist thought she & C were a couple...

On the beginning of the carol singing season

Liz has had her first descant induced head-rush...and thus the Christmas singing season has well & truly begun.

On having a theological celebrity as a father

Liz had the bizarre experience this morning of eating breakfast whilst listening to her Dad on the radio - discussing women's ordination with Catholics, brave man.

On driving instructors who fail to turn up for lessons

Liz is probably going to have to fire her driving instructor which means the mission to find a new one should probably begin...

On missing out on exciting tourist attractions

Liz is gradually recovering from the disappointment of not having had enough time to visit the Pencil Museum this morning

On being in Cumbria the day the floods hit

Liz: severe weather warning + heavy rain = floods and a very long journey back to the metropolis...

On working with the wrong kind of male colleague

Liz is in a gorgeous hotel in the rather lovely Keswick - it's just a shame she's not in the company of someone more interesting than a colleague...

On the restorative power of Julie Andrews

Liz should never underestimate the power of the Sound of Music in fraught commuting conditions.

On the over-commercialisation of Christmas (in mid-November)

Liz now has to accept that Christmas is inevitably drawing closer - the Holiday Coke advert's just been on.

On early nights, on a Friday

Liz wonders why, with all London has to offer, she's grateful to be in her PJs before 10pm on a Friday? Hello - life needed over here please - thank you.

On the mispronunciation of place names

Liz can't believe it's taken over an hour to book a hotel in Keswick, but is amused that the person she booked it with pronounced it "Kes-wick".

On the bizarre use of photos

Liz is deeply disturbed that her face is being used as an education aid for Morven's geordie pupils...

On the Inuit nativity #2

Liz is now even more excited about the Inuit nativity having discovered that not only does it have an igloo, it's got a canoe and a Polar Bear!

On injuries whose cause can be totally misconstrued

Liz has somehow sprained her jaw, no idea how that happened...

On the return of winter

Liz has welcomed the hot water bottle back with hoody-covered open arms.

On surviving her first driving lesson in 5 years

Liz can't quite believe she just drove up the Old Kent Road...

On nervous anticipation and downright fear

Liz is fearing tomorrow morning just slightly, though the innocent people of Bermondsey should probably fear more...

On the Inuit nativity #1

Liz is delighted to hear that the latest addition to the Clutterbuck international nativity collection is an Inuit one, complete with igloo...

On late night tube travel

Liz witnessed a mighty act of passenger co-operation on the northern line in breaking up a potentially huge bitch fight. Simultaneously amusing, heart-warming and oh so slightly terrifying.

On ridiculous disruptions

Liz knows that there's no smoke without fire, but does the smell of smoke on a train really necessitate the suspension of the Jubilee Line on a very wet Friday evening?

On ignoring criticism from an idiot boy

Liz is going to ignore the criticism of her status updates and will carry on in the way she has become accustomed. So there

On inadvertantly increasing carbon emissions whilst trying to reduce them

Liz is using two laptops, 3 lights and assorted other electrical appliances whilst putting together a children's activity on carbon reduction...oh the irony.

On collective nouns #2

Liz's collective noun of the day: a 'piteousness' of doves. (Hopefully less controversial than a loveliness of ladybirds!)

On collective nouns #1

Liz has a new favourite collective noun: a 'loveliness' of ladybirds.

On maintaining self-control in the face of temptation

Liz has faced off with a box of Krispy Kremes and won.

On seeing her name in a hearse

Liz is not sure that it's a good omen to have walked past a funereal flower arrangement spelling her name this morning.

On inappropriate nakedness on the BBC

Liz has just seen a half-naked Methodist Minister on the BBC and thinks this was quite, quite unnecessary!

On the endless problem of matching socks

Liz has completed the thankless task of correctly pairing a pile of black socks with a myriad subtle differences, but still has one lonely sock left over.

On the BNP's appearance on Newsnight

Liz is wondering who exactly is an 'indigenous Briton'? As a descendant of a Flemish weaver who emigrated here 400 years ago, this Briton most definitely isn't one and doubts Nick Griffin's one either.

On her first Scrabble victory

Liz believes her cackling might be heard across the nation...she may finally have won a game of scrabble - with a final word totalling 91 points. Thank-you and goodnight..

On the return of legwarmers

Liz is, for the first time since age 6, considering leg warmers as practical ankle wear and wonders if her grandmother can still knit them.

On very early trips to the gym

Liz has set a new record for arriving at the gym - 7.18. Smug? Very.

On new shoes & new dawns

Liz is celebrating a bright new Tuesday morning with bright (red) new shoes.

On the death of Stephen Gately

Liz thinks that no matter what your views on Boyzone were, today is a sad day

On being a good Girl Guide

Liz is attempting to fix her favourite purple shoes with the aid of an elastic hair band and a swiss army knife. Surely there's no reason why this won't work?

On post-holiday smugness

Liz is loving responding to compliments on clothing with "oh this? I got it in New York..." and wondering how long it'll take before people want to hit her?

On the temptation of the might Apple

Liz is in the Apple store where everything is super shiny & she is very, very tempted to make an impulsive purchase...

On having simple British charm

Liz loves being in a place where her accent's regarded as 'cute'. If only it got the same reaction back home...

On the joys of predictive text

Liz is giggling that in spelling 'wetherspoons' via predictive text she had to spell it 'wet', 'her', 'spoons'. (It's been a long day!)

On acting upon important decisions...

Liz loves the rush of adrenaline after posting something rather important and oh so slightly scary.

On the inability to eat small fruit #2

Liz is wondering what the grapes have got against her that they try so hard to kill her? You get a lot less sympathy for choking on a grape for the second time in 2 days.

On familial accomplishments

Liz is, like her grandfather, incredibly proud that there is now a tattoo artist in the family.

On the inability to eat small fruit #1

Liz nearly choked to death on a grape. An amusing epitaph but not an amusing experience.

On giving in to peer pressure

Liz is finally submitting to the 'get Liz to drive' campaign. Step 1: handover £50 (!!) to DVLA for new provisional license is now complete.

On creative excuses for skipping the gym

Liz thinks unshaved legs was a reasonable excuse for skipping the gym this evening.

On post-gym smugness

Liz: the price of my gym membership - extortionate; the smug feeling of being at the office early having swum 30 lengths - priceless.

On resurrecting 19th century words

Liz and Katie are single-handedly bringing back "swoon". Some words need to brought into the 21st century.

On being a hopeless singleton

Liz has suddenly started talking to herself in Bridget Jones-esque clichés. "Note to self: this is neither clever, funny or attractive".

On being pragmatic at momentous sporting moments missed

Liz was - of course - on the tube when England reclaimed the Ashes. However, missing a glorious victory is hugely preferable to witnessing a crushing defeat.

On God's ability to intervene in the Ashes

Liz reckons it's in God's best interests to ensure the test match gets wrapped up before church tonight.

On the joys of low-fat Ben & Jerry's

Liz is gazing into the depths of a tub of low-fat phish food and may be gone for some time.

On post Sister Act elation

Liz would very much like to become a singing nun with a sparkly habit - as long as she didn't have to make any of those pesky vows.

On terrifying bedroom situations

Liz is in the middle of a dire arachnid situation. It's huge (actually huge - I'm usually good at getting rid of them), possibly tropical and right above my bed. Trying to decide how to proceed...

On the flimsiness of flat-pack furniture

Liz just suffered a major wardrobe malfunction. (Furniture not clothing.)