Onion Rings And All Things Deep Fried

I have a lodger in my second room. I call her Onion Ring. Well, SoH came up with the name, technically, and I've just embraced it. Without fail I have to make sure I don't let it slip out accidentally and sometimes I do forget her real name. Whoops-a-daisies.





Onion Ring is a very complex creature. She's not very easy to describe as far as her looks go. I did her make up once thinking I could make her eyes look more like they were at the same level on her face. I'm not exactly Pat McGrath in the make up artist of the year stakes, but I'm pretty darned good. Even I couldn't do anything to make a vast improvement. I despise failure so I've tried to block the experience out of my mind.




Things you need to know about Onion Ring...

• She drinks two bottles of white wine a night. Her favourite poison appears to be Blossom Hill.


• She smokes. Secretly when she thinks I'm not around or won't notice she smokes on the balcony. Naughty!


• She has an acne beard... you'll see why as this list progresses


• Dominoes is her favourite pizza delivery. They come around twice a week


• She can eat a box of hot chips, two lamb kebabs and a serving of onion rings in one sitting.


• She asks to try my dinner if I have food sitting around.


• I've never seen her cook - only use the microwave or food-by-phone-call


• She has moved seven times this year


• She was evicted for complaining about the lack of cleanliness


• I had to have strong words to her about her lack of cleanliness


• She was evicted from another place because she cries too loudly


• She cries really loudly


• She likes to wear her work top and tights with tracksuit bottoms in the evenings.


• She wipes her face with her sleeve.


• She really is a sweet girl


• She's on anti-depressants and recently had her dosage doubled.


• This news was announced to me on her third bottle of wine one night.


• She has been told her job is finishing in a month and needs a new one.


• She is paranoid - if I'm in my room trying on clothes, etc she will ask if I'm avoiding her.


• When she asks if I'm avoiding her - I soooooo avoid her!


• Onion Ring works in compliance. I know all about her colleagues, their names, the floor plan of the office and what happens if you put an employee id into a blank field of a system she uses.


• Sorry - just slipped into a coma whilst describing her job - I'm back now.


• Onion ring works at the Slug & Lettuce on the weekends as she doesn't really have anyone to hang out with


• Onion Ring hates her weekend job


• If I drop hints that we should scrub the flat, Onion Ring will ask if I mind that she just sits and opens another bottle of wine.


• Onion Ring would marry Sky TV if she could


• A conundrum about Onion Ring is that she loves Sky but she's still obsessed with peasant tv (hollyoaks, eastenders, coronation street)


• Onion Ring would love to have a baby (frightening)


• I haven't tested this, but I believe Onion Ring can talk under water.


• Onion Ring's ability to talk under water increases with the dullness of her soliloquy.


• She has incredibly questionable dress sense but will not take any suggestions from others - even if she asks for said opinions.
• She will pass out on my suede couch around 10.30 and wake up around 6.15, turn off the tv and go to her bed on the weekends.
• Onion Ring thinks Dec from Ant & Dec is a "sex kitten". (Dear Lord)
• During one of my emotional crises Onion Ring wouldn't let up on me despite my polite request that we not talk about my personal life. We rowed. Her apology involved sitting in my room crying because the kitchen kept sending hot chocolates instead of lattes all night at her weekend job...

My halo just soooooo slipped off my head in writing this! I feel terrible. But the world needs to be alerted to the dangers and darlingness of the Onion Ring. She has a heart that wouldn't hurt a fly - but she can kill you with a single story from her work.

The Most Composed Girl in Canary Wharf

Ooh la la. I am just back from "the meeting". It was scheduled for 12.10 but was requested to be pushed forward to 11.40. I managed 11.57.

Wardrobe Summary: black faux snakeskin stacked round toe pumps with toe cleavage, sheer hold ups, spray painted on burnt red suit tailored to within an inch of it's life, black knit top, black fendi spy bag left over from yesterday's outfit. Make Up: beige eyes with black liquid liner, biggish lashes, orgasm cheeks, belle du jour lips topped with blow my mind gloss.

It wasn't as emotionally brutal as I thought it would be. Did I return the kiss on the lovely lips? No! Would I give a proper, soul changing cuddle? Hell No! Did I agree to email, keep in touch and catch up when he's back? Of course, how could I not? This person has been more important to me than actually breathing... I can't not speak to him or not ever see him again. I do have a little bit of my heart left over from when my insides were dug out with that rusty spoon (see yesterday's entry).

Was it weird seeing him again? Kinda. Do I think he's a pig? I wouldn't have chosen that word. Perhaps "brute" would have been a little more in line with my thinking. But, in the nicest way possible, a little bit, yes. Not quite as cute as the lovely piglets we were playing with at the farm a few weeks back, but yes, a little piggish all the same.

Meanwhile, what is it with men and staring? I know I'm wearing a red suit today but I've noticed lately lots of boys feeling free to look at me. Who do they think they are? Did I give them permission to look at me? No! It makes me feel nauseous. It also gives me an almost irrepressible urge to whack them over the head with my handbag. I carry a lot with me at all times so it would be quite a wallop. Do you think I would get in trouble if I did that?

So I walked to Itsu this afternoon with Sami. She looked after me a little, made me more self conscious about my red suit and regaled me with stories of her cat's blood bath over the weekend involving the largest mice Surrey has to offer. I hope they don't have mice in Battersea. As soon as I move I'm planning on rescuing a kitten from the shelter... Hopefully said pet won't feel the urge to go travelling in South America for four months and callously leave me with barely a moment's notice.

xxx

Hi From Starbucks at the Hayward without my SoH

I am so the loneliest girl in London. I'm at Starbucks attached to the Hayward gallery. Starbucks - the weekend refuge for the lonely and budgetarily challenged. We can buy a cup of tea and sit here for hours. However, I have splurged. I got a panini as well. Splurge - not only have I spent the money, I have eaten and it's carbs. All of these are taboo in my life of late. The guy next to me is on his laptop. A tech-advanced version of me with my pink brocade covered journal. There are a couple of ladies near me talking about how long they've been married. Clearly I have jealousy coursing through all of my veins. The girl serving here is the sweetest girl alive! She's a doll - having a chat with everyone. I wish I wasn't the grumpy, sour faced thing I am.

Wardrobe summary: green Hard Hearted Harlot anklet boots, top shop jeans, Cavalli polka dot sleeved black knit, cream Marc Jacobs jacket, black fabric Fendi Spy bag. Makeup: Nars Emotional Rescue palette.

For someone so lonely I look great. I feel really good about my outfit but so disappointed with myself for being lazy and just wearing jeans.

I just finished checking out 'How To Change the World'. I don't exactly feel thrilled or inspired by it. I was bored for the most part. I like the Caulfields and I loved the Bob Law. There was a quote about how his black canvases could swallow you whole. You know what, he's so right. Especially in my current emotional state. I've never felt so manic-d in my life. I'm swinging so violently. I should mention here that my SoH decided not to see me anymore last weekend. SoH = Source of Happiness. Dating him was the best time I've ever had in my life. In a cuddle on his bed I would think that the moment we were having actually made up for all my icky man related moments from the past. Suddenly retracting his presence from my life has felt equal to having my insides removed with a rusty spoon.

And so, in Starbucks, I sit. Feeling sad, lonely, dissatisfied and looking tres glamorous.

Oooohhh - a person just talked to me! Tech-version-of-me just asked what I was writing about! Am I an artist? Why did I say no to that? Do I blog? He writes stand up comedy for a hobby. That must be hard but cool.

Back to me. He's clearly bored of talking to me. Time to head home, think about what to wear tomorrow when I collect the items I left at SoH's house. He's meeting me at work. Clearly I need to look stunning. I think a valium and a hot bath are in order first.

xxx