Siobhantesting / Oct 02 2014 15.17

test again

Testsm123 / Dec 18 2014 10.38

testing

amyjonestest / Oct 09 2015 16.49

We were an hour into the flight from Gatwick to Malaga when it happened. Turbulence of the kind that makes the seatbelt signs flash, overhead lockers judder, cabin crew strap in, and passengers exchange grimaces. There were five of us – my sister and I plus three girlfriends, bound for a week on the Costa Tropicale. We had waxed our bikini lines but we had not prepared for this.

What happened first? The feeling of dropping out of the sky as though we were aboard a stone rather than a plane? The pilot’s voice, eerily calm, announcing: “This is an emergency, this is an …” before cutting out? The oxygen masks dropping, a moment as horrifying as you always imagined it would be? Or rather tried not to imagine, ever, especially while cruising at 30,000ft.

We were told something about “engine failure” and a return to Gatwick to make an emergency landing. I became convinced my oxygen mask wasn’t working and spent what I deemed to be my last precious minutes on earth arsing around with the instructions. My sister grabbed a flight attendant patrolling the aisles with an enormous canister of oxygen, sucked hard on it, then asked her if we were going to die. (She refused to answer but I saw the fear in her eyes.) Another attendant was doling out what I thought were shots of tequila in a fabulously Bette Davis-ish screw-you to death and the tyranny of the overpriced minibar. It turned out they were very tiny glasses of water. I watched an elderly couple hold hands across the aisle. I thought my legs were going to explode.

Fifteen minutes later we were back at Gatwick, met by a welcome committee of paramedics and “special buses”. We were whisked off to a dystopian airport hotel to recuperate, collect tokens for complimentary tea or coffee, and witness the unravelling of our fellow passengers. So this was the life we had feared losing … God, it was crap (and beautiful). That night we flew out to Malaga as planned, defiant and terrified. My legs still felt like they were exploding and for years afterwards I would walk on to a plane and they would erupt all over again. But we were determined to have our holi

amyjonestest / Oct 09 2015 16.51

We were an hour into the flight from Gatwick to Malaga when it happened. Turbulence othe kind that makes the seatbelt signs flas, overhead lockers judder, cabin crwstap in, and passengers exchne grimacs. Tere were five of us – y sister and I plus three girlfriends, bound for a wek on the Costa Tropicale. We hd waxd our bikini lines but we had not prepared for this.

What happened first? The feeling of dropping out of the sky as though we were aboard a stone rather than a plane? The pilot’s voice, eerily calm, announcing: “This is an emergency, this is an …” before cutting out? The oxygen masks dropping, a moment as horrifying as you always imagined it would be? Or rather tried not to imagine, ever, especially while cruising at 30,000ft.

We were told something about “engine failure” and a return to Gatwick to make an emergency landing. I became convinced my oxygen mask wasn’t working and spent what I deemed to be my last precious minutes on earth arsing around with the instructions. My sister grabbed a flight attendant patrolling the aisles with an enormous canister of oxygen, sucked hard on it, then asked her if we were going to die. (She refused to answer but I saw the fear in her eyes.) Another attendant was doling out what I thought were shots of tequila in a fabulously Bette Davis-ish screw-you to death and the tyranny of the overpriced minibar. It turned out they were very tiny glasses of water. I watched an elderly couple hold hands across the aisle. I thought my legs were going to explode.

Fifteen minutes later we were back at Gatwick, met by a welcome committee of paramedics and “special buses”. We were whisked off to a dystopian airport hotel to recuperate, collect tokens for complimentary tea or coffee, and witness the unravelling of our fellow passengers. So this was the life we had feared losing … God, it was crap (and beautiful). That night we flew out to Malaga as planned, defiant and terrified. My legs still felt like they were exploding and for years afterwards I would walk on to a plane and they would erupt all over again. But we were determined to have our holiday. And you know what? It was wonderful. And now I am t

amyjonestest / Oct 09 2015 16.52

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amyjonestest / Oct 09 2015 16.55

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amyjonestest / Oct 09 2015 17.02

I am typing a message to see what happens. I am not going to copy nad paste because I think that causes issues. Instead I'mg oing to type nonsense for the next 1700 characters or so, and see what happens.

It's a Friday and we've been testing on Letters From Santa all week, which has now launched and so people are very happy. There are still some technical issues but not as many as there were. The Production team aer all stuffed full of sugar. I think my brain will thank me now that testing is over, because being on a permenant sugar high for two weeks is really really not very good for it.

 

This weekend I am going to Sarah's birthday. I'm going to adapt the BBC recipe for salted caramel brownies to make some peanut butter brownies for her. I don' think that is going to particularly help the enormous sugar cravings,b ut hey ho.

I am also making a mocha torte this weekend, just to see if I can. I think I'll eat more of the mocha torte than I will the brownies because peanut butter is vastly inferior to delicious delicious mocha flavours.

I can hear Holly behind me talking to Jen and Lizzie and also Jey and Michael are here. Siobhan is not here. Neither is Bella, nor Paul. Dougie has left. David and Marnie and Renee are sitting opposite me and I can also see Gavin and Eric and Victoria.

I am over halfway through now which is good because I think I am running out of things to say.

Next weekend I am going to Ashley's wedding. I am getting my hair and make-up done properly as I am going to be a bridesmaid. I will be wearing a long blue dress in heavy drapey fabric.

She is wearing an enormous dress that has something like twelve layers. She's at a fitting right now along with her new niece who is called Isabella Fern and was ten pounds when she was born, which is very big for a baby, especially considering its mum was so tiny.

On my desk I have two notebooks and a mug and a pot of fruit and some water and a pencil case and my phone and my box that we all have in the NSPCC now because they got rid of our drawers. I am wearing a Hufflepuff t-shirt today. That i

We've got about 100 characters left. I wonder how much is going to send. I don't think it's working still but I can't figure i