Posted by Lou. The time is 11.55am here in London UK.

A picture of somewhere you’ve been to


This is the Sacre Coeur in Paris, last May.

(taken from the perspective of me lazing on the grass, of course)

I picked this because it was taken during what turned into one of those perfect afternoons of being in a city you do not know well and being sort of lost and then everything coming together so that you end up in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.

The weather in London in May is generally shit, but in Paris it was beautifully sunny with blue skies and just the right temperature for walking around in a summer dress. We walked up to Montmartre and got slightly lost, then finally found our way to the Sacre Coeur where we climbed to the top, turning a new shade of red from the heat and exertion.

Afterwards we decided to pick-up supplies for a French picnic - baguette, cheese, meat, and delicious pastries. This proved okay - I even had a fully en francais conversation with the (amused) patisserie lady.

But then we could not find anywhere to sit and eat. Which seemed strange coming from London where there is a bit of green to be found everywhere. Eventually we ended up back at the Sacre Coeur and grabbed ourselves a bit of lawn, and indulged in the most delicious of foods whilst basking in the sun.

Then a whole gaggle of young men in tuxedos turned up. Then two more turned up with a wheelbarrow full of cold drinks - water and beer - to cheers from the rest of their group. They were evidently American, and were eyed by everyone else with that suspicion that they might become Trouble for our peaceful afternoon.

Then suddenly they all gathered in formation at the bottom of the slope, with all us tourists laid out on the lawn in front of them more than a little curious. Their teacher blew a note on her tuning whistle, and they began singing. Beautifully.

It became a real impromptu show - singing and dancing to a delighted and enthusiastic audience.

But then the French police came along and asked them to stop! (boo!) But the crowd became outraged - people shouting "let them sing!" [and probably also the French/ Italian/ Spanish/ Icelandic/ Farmvillian versions of same] and restlessly moving towards the police.

The police relented (is this a first in French history?), and the boys continued singing, and it was brilliant.

Ooh look, I have a crappy snippet of video:

Posted by Bel. The time is 3.13pm here in Wellington NZ

A picture of somewhere you’ve been to

At the start of 2003, I spent a month in Sydney with a friend I'd known since high school. We stayed for most of that time at Coogee Bay - Bondi's quiet little brother beach. Our travelling styles complemented each other and we had all of the sorts of adventures that you would expect on a summer vacation.

One that you might not was the visitation by the Virgin Mary on the cliffs above Coogee, but hey, who's going to begrudge her visiting this idyllic spot?

I wasn't that stoked about coming back.

Posted by Lou. The time is 11.19am here in London UK.

A habit that you wish you didn’t have

I am always late for work. Always. Even when I try really, really hard to be on time, I will be late. In fact, I'll probably be later than usual.

The only times I have gotten to work early I have still been late as I was there later than the earlier time I was aiming for.

I can think of one single instance of being genuinely early, but it was my first day back after a trip to New Zealand so the sole reason for it was jet-lag.

I'm generally on time for everything else, it is just work - though I think this is to do with my wisdom in rarely committing to anything early on weekends/ days off.

I believe the fundamental reason for this is that I sleep badly - ie I will never, ever wake up in the morning refreshed by a solid night's sleep - but really it's just now habit.

Due to the fact that I am not someone who leaps up and leaves the second the clock approaches hometime, it is not something that garners negative comment by The Boss.

So I guess it's fine, right?

Hmm perhaps I'll try and be on time every day next week...

Posted by Bel. The time is 4.14pm here in Wellington NZ.

A habit that you wish you didn’t have

I am incapable of retelling a story succinctly. I always wind up dragging in all the little details and making it as long-winded as possible, just to tell the whole thing in the most drawn out way possible.

This never happens:

"How was work today?"

"Oh you know, pretty good. Had this one dumb phone call."

"Oh really? You okay? What happened?"

"Yeah, sweet as. Just some jerk-off who thought they could tell me how to do my job. I made myself a recovery cup of tea and moved on."

It generally goes like this:

"Please let me get a drink in me first."

"What? Why? First before what?"

"Before you launch into one of your work stories."

"One of my what?? Hey now, that's not fair..."

"Really? Nothing to say?"

(I quiver with the strain of trying to hold back the flood of words.)
"Okay so there is this one thing that I HAVE TO tell you!! Because of this OTHER THING that is because of THAT STUFF from the other day!!"

(Tightens grip on chilled glass and prepares for enslaught.)

I'll save you the actual pain of sitting through a reenactment of one of my reenactments - but for someone who works as an editor professionally and personally prides herself on sparsely written poetry, man, I have some issues with running my mouth off.

Posted by Lou . The time is 11.36am here in London UK.

Day 3: A picture of you and your friends

I'm being a bit more minimalist than Bel, in that here is literally just a picture of me and my friends. (Well, two of them - I do have more. (Honestly.))

Me, Bel and Steph. Drunk. Wellington, April 2010.