I have been listening to it on a loop for two days solid. NO REGRETS.

I know, I know. Snow Patrol. Haters to the comment section.

I am eating home-made bran muffins topped with home-made apple sauce and Stephen Tea with condensed milk--breakfast of Gangstas.

"Real gangsta ass niggas can't run fast", guys. FACT.

Red Velvet Shame

My birthday was the best, thanks for wishes all-- my girlfriend took the day off work, we woke up lazily with ST:TNG and opened presents, went out to grab some coffee and run errands, came back and made GLORY.

* This steak, 5 pounds for a very good cut from M&S.
* Chips from a chippy re-heated by frying in the beef grease/marinade--two pounds for a bag the size of Katy's torso. Salt and vinegar.
* Wasabi-mayonnaise dip--wasabi paste stirred into some mayo. Seems gross? Is LOVELY. Zippy and creamy and great.
* Home-made lemonade.

I could not move after. SO WORTH IT. Best lunch ever--and for like, £3.50 a person (some bulk ingredients like the mayo and wasabi paste not included, so maybe add another pound for the small quantities of each used, and the little bits of veg in the marinade).

Then I made a red-velvet cake. ...or tried to. Katy said she'd never had one, so I scrapped my plans to make the other thing both because I turned out not to be in a vanilla-mood and because I wanted her to know the awesome. My cake, the Nigella Red Velvet, was a DISASTER due to the stupid buttermilk not being the right kind (thanks, ASDA's Misleading Polish Foods Section) and having to use MASSES of chemical-tasting liquid food coloring rather than the small amount of paste she reccomended. It was lovely and red, we iced it so cutely, it looked great.

It tasted like being rejected by food. All food. EVERY FOOD.

I cannot explain how sour-to-the-point-of-acidity, how over-flat and nigh slimy, how disappointing it was. I frantically re-checked this recipie, other similar ones, becuase this could not be INTENDED to taste ANYTHING LIKE THIS. But as far as I could tell I'd done every step perfectly correctly, even compensating for one of the cakes coming out a little underdone relatively neatly. I'd done the conversions perfectly. The ASDA employee had assured Katy that this WAS buttermilk (but dairy products vary wildly from country to country, look at UK and US yoghurt and the Devils' Food Cake debacle of Jo's birthday). I figured it must be down to the food colouring and buttermilk, but still am not 100% satisfied in my mind. It was the second time the cake had defeated me, and after all the fuss about not wanting one from a bakery.

Remember the embarrassing bit of Castrovalva where Ainley!Master shouts 'MY WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEB!!!!1!!!!!' ? I pretty much did that, but with 'cake.' I stomped around the kitchen, cleaning it up, scrubbing it by hand, then mopping it, throwing the cake into a tupperware to deal with later, and headed with Katy out to Richmond to the Thai Cafe, where we had an absolutely lovely (and cheap--6 pounds for entrees!) dinner--lovely aromatic green curry, /nice/ pad thai once it had been introduced to chili oil (nutty and fresh, though could have done with more nam pla). Very aromatic and soothing ginger tea. I wouldn't want it every day, but it was good.

We walked over the river--all the boats are back, and the street-lamps too, which had briefly been replaced with ugly boxy things accompanied by apologetic notes from the council reassuring everyone that they were only temporary. Oh, to live in Richmond and to have that little to worry about.

Back at Katy's David gave us easter eggs (they don't do baskets here) and Anna gave me a tin for my new Eclectic Kitchen Design back at mine. She was disappointed not to have found a Royal Wedding tat one--siiigh. Must I burgle charity shops for the tat I crave?! V. nice flocked wrapping paper, even if it does shed. I have always admired vintage flocked wallpaper.

Assured Katy that I ABSOLUTELY did not want any more cake, or even to look at or think about cake, pie, cupcakes, or pastry of any kind. But while my back was turned she very sweetly made me a new one (Allegra's Big Kitchen Cake/Never-Fail Victoria Sponge out of Leon I), and this despite my sulky 'OMG EVERYTHING IS RUINED FOREVER, I DON'T WANT A CAKE'. She mixed my first cake's perfectly good cream-cheese icing with a dollop of lemon curd and put it and the jam I'd made at the weekend in the middle of the cake-layers, so I would feel like I'd helped make this one in a substantial way rather than 'like a big failboat.' She ringed the plate with 'happy birthday Erin' in children's alphabet fridge magnets. I about cried because how fucking /cute/ is that. VERY.

...okay so I actually cried a bit, but in a Very Happy way. It was a very happy birthday.

Presents!

- some money from my mom I am supposed to buy theater tickets with, for myself and Katy, but which I might actually use for shit like food and not making Katy pay for the flight to America for my sister's wedding, sorry to say
- my dad's taking me out to the theater/a NICE restaurant in NY when we're over for that
- kitchen tin from Anna
- card from my grandma (yet to arrive)
- little brother Samuel, 13: "i will grant a gift of protection in which i have already vested on you but it is still good upon you"
- giant Cadbury egg from David
- Katy got me a nice towel, Toby Hadoke and Rob Shearmen's "Running Through Corridors", the new star trek movie, Bernard Cribbins reading Winnie the Pooh (IT IS THE CUTEST, I HAVE LISTENED TO THE BALLOON ONE! SUCH LOVE!) as a card, the original star trek movies (convenient/cheap boxset, but sadly they've yet to arrive), and a very nice V&A tray to carry dinner down on once I've made it

P.S. Have salvaged icing, given cake back to nature to be enjoyed by squirrels, foxes. Scratched self on barb wire in process. Stupid cake.