Lisa O`Brien

So sad. Read that he had died a couple of hours ago. Children dying of cancer. I sometimes question whether there is a God.

Can't wait for Wimbledon again. Hope Roger, who I adore, can win it one more time. If not him, then Andy. Don't follow the women players. I think they're boring. The last female tennis player whose career I followed was Martina.

Sad news. I also always used to watch his Film programme most weeks. It was never the same when he retired and I stopped watching it.

Never heard of them either.

Oh and have you met Tsiska before? Have you ever spoken to him?

When does your son start work with the Bolshoi?

Never heard this thing about the rice before. [ Incoming stupid question; you don't have to stuff it inside cooked rice, do you?]

I always thought you HAD to be trained at the Vaganova Academy to get into the Mariinsky; I thought the school was associated with the company, like the Royal.

I know for this Company there is a two week training period. People ring them from all over. They think they are speaking to a customer service person from Vodaphone or whoever, but it's actually Teleperformance. Vodaphone customers ring up with a query of some sort and you have to type it into a computer screen and hopefully the answer to the customer's problem comes up. Think they have contracts with a few large companies. My ex boyfriend's ex, and mother of his two sons, worked for them for about 7 months. She told him the pay was good and you can work as many shifts as you want,up until about eleven o'clock at night if you wanted to, so the money is nice. But she said with the ones who have been there a few years and the management, there is a real clique between them all. But they always have an information stand in the Quays shopping centre, trying to interest people to work for them. They don't sound especially picky who they hire. I said if he goes for it to just keep an open mind and not to expect it to be some sort of dream job. I told him if he gets a few months experience and money out of it [ they are paid weekly, which is handy] there will be no harm to it.

Me and my son were over in Manchester on Wednesday for the Manchester Metropolitan Uni Open Day. Initially we had planned to scoot over to Liverpool as well but realised we wouldn't have had the time. As it was, we hardly had the time to see everything that was needed to be seen at the Uni. Our 10.25 flight got into M/CR at 11.25am. We couldn't get the earlier, 8.20 am one as there would have been no way of getting to the airport in time, having to be there two hours early. The first bus from Newry to Belfast doesn't start running till 6am, and the earliest train isn't until 7am. This is on weekdays. Our flight home was at 7.30 pm, but again we had to be at the airport for 5.30. The bus on Oxford Road in Manchester to the airport took over an hour. We should have taken the Metrolink but were trying to save money. So we had to leave the Uni when the day ended at 4pm, and waited ages for the bus. But it was only £3.40 each and would have cost a lot more on the tram , and £15 in a taxi, which we took when we arrived to save time. Sean loved everything about the university. It was very impressive, I must say. State of the art facilities in the Birley Campus in Hulme. No expense spared,really. Amazing looking computers all over. A lovely relaxing area outside,with nice tables and chairs and gorgeous trees, and over the road the students were also relaxing in a lovely park. There was a strong smell of Weed wafting over from there, so someone was relaxing a bit too much, LOL ! Inside the main campus building there were little sleep pods dotted around the place with your own private little booth where students can just chill. A good few we saw were stretched out in their own individual ones, fast asleep. Fantastic lecture halls. The members of staff and students we spoke to were all very friendly and positive. We attended the Social Care talk and I thought it was great. A lovely man, who was clearly passionate and very committed to his subject. Then we noticed half an hour later in the same building there was a Primary Teaching information session so we went to that as well. Again, in a different lecture hall, but with great facilities and a lecturer who was very passionate about her subject. We decided to see the rest of the uni over in the main campus on Oxford Road. There's a great walkway they have built which links the Birley Campus on Stretford Road to the main campus on Oxford Road in the city centre. So we looked around a few of the other buildings too, including the Student Union. Again, impressive and lovely, helpful people. Felt a twinge of sadness to be leaving my home city when I was sitting on the plane to be honest. It's a good few years since I was last there; 8 or 9 I think. It would have been nice to be able to have spent a few days there. But we didn't have the money and we had to get back that evening for the cats, who we had left indoors with plenty of food, water and the cold water tap running in the bath, as Pumpkin likes drinking out of it. Got back home at about 11pm. Both cats were fast asleep and content enough, thank God. IF anything had happened and for some unexpected reason we had found ourselves having to stay overnight we had put a spare key in the front garden hidden from view. Sean would have phoned his friend who would have come down and let the cats out for us. But as it was they probably slept for most of the day indoors. It was the hottest day of the year and I wouldn't have felt happy about them being outside from 5.30 am until 11pm in that heat. As it was, we deliberately kept them out all night the night before, and called them it at 4 am. We knew from previous experience if they had been out all night they wouldn't have had much sleep and therefore would have slept for most of the day, oblivious to us not being there. Sean found the Social Care talk boring. I told him it is pointless wasting his last precious two years of HE funding on a course he has no interest in. So he is thinking of asking them if he can defer for a year. There's a company called Teleperformance near us who are always looking for new people, no experience needed, for their call centre. They are recruiting for their Vodafone contract at the moment. He's seriously thinking of uploading his CV to them and giving it a try for a few months at least. His friend did it and hated it, ditto someone I know. They start off being very nice and then after a few weeks really start to pile on the pressure and expect more and more of you, including timing your toilet break etc. But the money's not bad and "Customer Service Adviser" would be another string to his bow, even if only for a few months. It's entirely up to him.

Thank you everyone. She used to understand most things we said to her. If she was wet I used to say to her, "Shall we get you all dry with Blackie's special towel?" At which point she would jump up to the back of the sofa so I could reach her, and I would dry off the excess wet with her towel. She used to sleep on my bed every night, until the last few weeks when she wasn't the same, really. I used to say to her, "Is Blackie going to sleep on the bed, with the nice warm blankies and the nice soft dressing gown?" [ If it was cold]. But she always sat upstairs in the spare bedroom and waited for me getting in bed first and sorting out the bedding,etc. Then she would come in and sleep on my right shoulder, right up against my face, until I got fed up of having to lie on my back and I would turn over ! She would try and follow me to the little shop around the corner. I would have to tell her to "go home". At which point she always did and would wait in a nearby garden a little nearer the shop, I think listening out for my footsteps. When she heard me coming along she would miaow like a mad thing, incessantly, and I would say "Lisa's home". She even had her own special song. To the tune of Glory Glory Halleluiah [ Or Man United in my case] I would say to her, "Shall I sing Blackie's special song"?, at which she would purr and nudge me with her head. Then I would sing to her, "There's a Blackie wacky wacky. There's a Blackie wacky wacky. There's a Blackie wacky wacky, Blackie wacky wacky wack wack wack." On the last three notes I gave her a little tap on the top of her head every time. She knew what cheese, chicken, ice cream, fish, and milk meant. When the ice cream van used to come round I would tell her i'm going to buy an ice cream. She would wait at the garden gate, looking over the road, some distance away to where I was with the ice cream man and would miaow her head off none stop until I came in with "her" ice cream. She understood what "more " meant, and if she was sitting on my knee and wanted me to continue cuddling her she would look at me and put her paw on my face. In the front garden she would roll around and I would say "Is Blackie being a cute girl, rolling around, showing her big fat tummy?" It used to make her do it all the more. The more I said to her how cute she was, the more she would roll around for me. If I asked her if she wanted to go out and she didn't want to she would flick her tail a few times. Never had a cat like her. And to think when she was born we thought she was dead as she was lay cold and lifeless, and only thanks to a young friend of Sean's asking to see the dead kitten and me eventually relenting, and him saying he just saw her breathing, we wouldn't have had the lovely memories we will keep of her forever.

Yet more terrible news. Where, or rather when, will it all end?

Thank you Lehcar. Keeping things in perspective with regard to what some people have had to go through in Manchester, London and now the Kensington fire.

Blackie died tonight while me and Sean were cuddling her. She was barely eating anything the last few days, and just seemed to want to be outside all the time. But I had been keeping her in at night, whether she wanted to be or not. I let her out this morning and when she came back in her balance was all over the place. Her back legs were crossing over each other as she walked. But she seemed fine sitting in the front garden in the sun. She came in this evening and barely ate anything. Didn't drink anything either. Five minutes later she wanted to go out again. Biscuit and Pumpkin wanted to go out too so I left them all out. Called them all in for their dinner about two hours later and Blackie was lying in the front garden, almost over the exact spot where Biscuit's all black kitten Midnight is buried. She was completely motionless but alive. Brought her in and gave her a few drops of water with a small medicine syringe but she couldn't seem to swallow it. She kept trying to get up but she could barely walk. She kept crossing one leg in front of the other. Her legs were shaking a little bit and me and Sean were just stroking her and speaking quietly to her, just trying to reassure her, really. She almost bent backwards on herself a few times, as she arched her head and back right back. Then she let out the strangest moan I have ever heard, and then just lay quietly on the floor. We had tried picking her up but every time she cried out, so she was lay on the living room floor on a soft blanket. Wasn't even sure if she had died at first. She's lay here on my lap now, and she's still warm and soft. Me and Sean have had a good cry, but she had a good innings, considering on the day she was born, on Margot Fonteyn's birthday in 2001, her mother effectively abandoned her and we left her in the kitchen cupboard for hours, thinking she was dead. I'm going to bed now. We'll bury her in the front garden in the morning. Both me and Sean have said how pleased we are she came home to us. It would have been horrible if she hadn't returned when she was away for 10 nights and we never saw her again.

The fence is quite high, but the slats have quite wide gaps between them. My back garden and their back garden are back to back to each other. If I stand in my back bedroom or if they stand in theirs and look out of the window you can clearly see right into their garden. You're overlooking it. I can actually see right into their back bedroom from my own the houses are so close. Ditto downstairs. If I stand in my living room I can see all the way into their house, all the way through to their front door. Not sure if my landlord would approve of the plants. He might do. Wouldn't stop him looking down at me into my garden from his upstairs window though.

Yes, but I suppose they're perfectly entitled to look out of their bedroom window if they want to. It's just that this is how it started with L J. Then it escalated. I actually very nearly gave him the v sign and mouthed to him to go and you know what. But what if i'm over reacting and it is perfectly innocent and a coincidence? They'll think i'm not only a dreadful neighbour but a nutter.

Don't know if people remember me telling them how happy I was that my pervy neighbour had moved, only to be dismayed he had moved nearer to me, but at least he was now on our side of the street, around the corner from where he used to be. This meant I couldn't see him from our house. We have new neighbours; a man and a woman. A few days ago I was hanging out clothes in the back garden. As I was reaching up pegging clothes my eyeline came into contact with the man, standing in the back bedroom, looking out of the window, watching me. Just like the previous one used to do. Thought it was a bit strange at the time but that was it. I've just now been in the back garden, hanging out more clothes on the line. Guess who was standing at the back bedroom window, staring at me? Yep, you guessed it. The new neighbour again. I deliberately didn't look at him, but could feel and see out of the corner of my eye that he was looking at me. I'm in my scruffiest clothes, as I haven't been out all day. My hair is a mess; hasn't even been brushed for a few hours now and my bulges are bulging out in all the wrong places. Mind you, I never wear a bra. Don't know if that's relevant or not. The other morning I noticed a table and one chair in the back garden. The woman of the house was sitting out in the chair at about eight o'clock in the morning in her nightie. It wasn't even sunny or warm. Do people remember me telling them about the old neighbour and how he used to sit out at the crack of dawn in just his towelling dressing gown , and once with the dressing gown undone and him being completely naked underneath? So, sitting out at the crack of dawn, not wearing much [ her]. Standing at the back bedroom window, just standing there watching me put clothes on the line twice now in a very short space of time [ him ]. I'm starting to think, did LJ [ the previous, pervy one] say something to the new neighbours about me? I'm guessing they must be renting the house of the original occupants as no For Sale signs were ever up, nor was that house advertised online for sale in any of the local estate agents, as I look quite regularly what's for sale and to let. I'm starting to think, did he say something, especially to the man like, that woman over there, she's a bit kinky, and really likes it when men stare at her, or something ? LJ knows full well I like nothing of the sort and threatened to report him to the police if he carried on with what he was doing in full view of me. Has he said something to the new ones so they will continue, especially him, where he left off? Sean, my 20 year old son just came downstairs and I told him. He opened the back door. The woman this time was standing at the back bedroom window. He said she was staring over at our house. What the hell?

They are saying the cladding which was recently added seems to be at fault. Apparently it's because of this the fire spread so quickly. Just looking online and apparently there are a lot of buildings around the world that have this on the outside of them. Concrete doesn't burn but this stuff does.

So sorry to hear about your DD 2's 50% funding. That must be so upsetting I can't imagine.

Oh God taxi how awful. My whole adult life I have been either one extreme weight or another. Used to attend Overeaters Anonymous meetings but hated going every week. Because I suffer from a severe form of Social Phobia, the thought of sitting in a circle with a group of strangers, talking about how [ as in AA style] my life had become unmanageable and that I was powerless over food was so horrible and stressful each week that I used to come home and stuff my face with whatever food I could lay my hands on. That's the insanity of it.

I became obsessed with dieting when I was dancing in Japan. I needed to lose about half a stone, that's all. [ The hotel's scales were in kilos]. Was dead pleased with myself when I lost a kilo. Then I looked in the mirror and thought, "I'll just lose another kilo". Lost that and felt on such a high. After a couple of hours of being elated that feeling wore off and I thought, "I'll just lose another kilo". And on and on it went. Thankfully my contract ended and I came home and my mum nipped it in the bud. I had lost a fair bit though and weighed seven and a half stones. My mum said to me, and she meant it, "If you don't stop dieting right now you can go and find somewhere else to live. I'm not going to see you slowly starve yourself every day". This did the trick. There was no way at 22 I wanted to move out and go and live on my own. Couldn't have afforded to anyway. I slowly started putting weight on and then spent years terrified of even going on a diet , even when I needed to, in case the same thoughts came back.

Oh yes of course Fiz. Forgot about that.

That is really interesting, Snowflake. Back in Robson's day, so late seventies early eighties growth hormones wouldn't have existed I don't think, so they had to do it just with the appropriate diet alone. Amazing what they can do nowadays.

I remember many years ago reading Man United captain Bryan Robson's autobiography. [ Queued up to get him to sign it then asked him if I could give him a kiss and he said yes so I kissed him on his cheek. He was gorgeous] !! Anyway, there were concerns at his first club, West Bromwich Albion, whether he was going to make it as a professional footballer because of his lack of height. I think he was 15 when he signed with the club, and had to move home and move in with an approved landlady who looked after him. The club gave her strict details of a very specific diet he had to stick to, to fill him out and increase the inches which were absolutely essential. Can't remember what he described having to eat now as I was 16 when I read it [ still have the copy, with his autograph in it somewhere in the house]. But lo and behold, he did grow a good few inches taller and gain weight also. Maybe that was always going to be his potential height anyway and the club knew this so it needed "bringing out" so to speak, I have no idea. So it might be a completely different scenario to Acuria. But i'm sure he grew about four inches altogether. [ Not for one minute suggesting a different diet will make you grow four inches of course]. But West Bromich Albion's nutritionist or whoever clearly knew what they were doing for him and it worked. Just looked him up on Wikipedia and while it didn't mention anything about him being short as a teenager it lists his full adult height as 5ft 11.

I was actually thinking the same, glissade, tbh.