Snacks 'n' stuff

I've been on an odd jellybean kick lately.  It happens once every few months or years and I suddenly get a yen for chewy, gummy sweets.  Jelly Belly is my poison, but I hate the every-flavour packs that we get in supermarkets because I really only care for the beautiful blue-flecked-purple plum flavour and the tart peach candies.

Right now, my colleagues will pick out some of the flavours I don't eat.  But nothing compares to the time in Birmingham two years ago, when I found a candy shop in the basement of Selfridges that dispensed Jelly Belly by the flavour and I filled an entire ziplock bag with my two favourite tastes.

Later that evening, I saw Derren Brown perform live for the first time.  I was the lady in the nosebleed seats, gasping in awe with a palm full of rattling candy.  That was a good night.

Since the Cold Storage in my vicinity is now devoid of even the multi-flavour packs, I've been settling for their slighty less piquant Jellybean Factory cousins and the last helping of Rowntree's Jelly Tots in Singapore.  Not as good as Jelly Belly, but they'll do in a pinch.

On the weekend, I opened a 12 year old Junior College bound copy of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.  I had had an idea to write a story based on it and wanted to comb through it to see if it was as I had remembered. 

My childish scrawl and my JC friend Doreen's drawings leaped out at me.  Suddenly, an image came back to me of us sitting in a circle in a vast classroom, the afternoon sun slanting in through the windows.  Our teacher, a slight bird of a man, made us play the different parts and circle significant words.  We shouted and play-fought and slammed imaginary doors and when we were not reading, Doreen would nudge me on the shoulder and sketch flowers in the margins.  

I put the book down and texted her immediately.

There have been brief games of Draw Something with David.  And more snacks.

Miniature pears for breakfast...

... A raisin "California" from Breadtalk that Priya and I used to eat only because it made us think of Rufus Wainwright...

... and one morning, when I couldn't tolerate eating wholegrain spelt buns anymore, a nostalgic egg-and-frankfurter breakfast at Hans.

Our office has also been decorated with the coolest balloons I have ever seen.  You can write or draw on them and float messages to people. 

My neighbour, Son, is optimistic and always loving, as you can see.

On mine, I wrote "Sarcasm is always welcome, as are you."

The next morning, I laughed my ass off.  There were no less than four post-its on my balloon saying things like, "Wow, sooo "creative" and "This is the "best" balloon I have ever seen".

I could not love my colleagues more.