So I’m sitting on my bed, attempting to forget that my appendix has been hurting for seven days.  This is most inconsiderate of it, given that next weekend I am to be attend a hen do for a dear friend.  Of the three times I have been a chick, this will only be the second time not actually dressed as a female chicken.  A small shame as I still have the costume from the first two attempts.  Given I am not much taller than when I was a nine year-old ballerina, there is a strong likelihood that it still fits.  And who wouldn’t want to wear net-fringed pantaloons, brown cotton wings and yellow tights to celebrate a friend’s pending nuptials?  A classy getup no less.  In fact, I can’t help thinking that Natalie Portman wouldn’t have had the whole stabby-issue thing going on if she had been a chicken rather than a swan.  But I digress.

My ears are filled with Huey on BBC 6 Music, my tum full of M&S salt’n’vinegar rice cakes.  If commission-based advertising is possible on this thing I’d be happy if Marks wants to send me a year’s supply of these.  They’re pretty tasty.

I am aware that I will mostly be talking nonsense on here.  The intention is to make the odd sensible comment, but this isn’t partiularly likely.  For starters, I can’t believe that anyone would be that interested in the majority of what I have to say on current affairs.  No, I shall save that for my colleagues.  They are a captive audience: they cannot escape my opinions.  I shall stick to commenting on cake, cats, biscuits, my excitement at exciting things and my disappointment at not drinking tea.  This last point makes me feel as though I am failing in an important element of librarianly duties.  Believe me, I try to drink tea.  It is the natural compliment to cake of course.  But nay, it’s just not to be.

Well, that wasn’t too tricky.  First post done and dusted.  Appendix not quite forgotten but happy chicken memories invoked.  This will do for now.