Evenings chez nous

My dear fiance is playing online bingo for profit and, apparently, fun. He has spreadsheets and everything so he can figure out how to maximise his takings. I am afraid I fail to be particularly supportive or encouraging.

He has also introduced me to Babylon Five. 5. Something. We're watching the...fourth?...episode. Evil has been brought to the ship by a guy in a brown shirt that seems to have built-in manboobs. Someone has turned into a rampaging robot zombie and they are hunting him in the basement. But at least that ambassador with the sideways mohican and dodgy accent isn't making much of an appearance in this one. Also, Garibaldi is awful cute.

In other news, I have some Amazon vouchers to spend and I can't bring myself to do it. This is not because I'm indifferent to the delights that Amazon has to offer. I've just been hanging on to these things for so sodding long, thinking I'll buy myself a treat when I really need it, that now I am terrified of wasting them. I must spend them on the thing that I want most. More than anything else on Amazon. I am paralysed with indecision, not least because I need to find this item for £15 or less.

What should I buy?

Bride bridally bride

So the Owl and I went and had a look at a potential wedding venue. Finchampstead Memorial Hall, to be precise. It's a moderately unlovely building, but quite a good size for what we're planning, with heaps of parking, a bar, an outside bit, a disabled loo and a useful corner for roasting hogs in.

Then we came home and I had a panic about how much it was all going to COST DEAR GOD. I'd got as far as threatening to slash the guest list in half before the Owl made me stop. It's going to cost money no matter what, says he. But we could buy lots of pork pies from the supermarket and avoid having a caterer, says me. Yes, but that would be shit, says he. We only get to do this once, says he. Boo hoo, says me. But we got it sorted.

You see, I am simultaneously quite good and very bad with money. I don't do big purchases. Big purchases terrify me. All that money! My bum clenches at the very thought. And yet, I fritter. I piss money away without noticing. I spend a fucking fortune on coffee and sandwiches. I get pleasure from it, don't misunderstand me. I love having other people make my coffee and sandwiches. I never manage to make myself such exciting sandwiches, no matter how hard I try. But, stony broke at the end of the month (why hello thar, and it's only the 20th), it's hard to feel like it's been worthwhile.

I'm going to get married and we're going to throw a bloody good party. Better than gingerbread lattes, even!