Also, LOVING the twitter at the moment. You can find me by clicking on the purple block if you wish - I feel strangely compelled to tell everyone how hungy I am or what Chairman Meow is up to in 140 characters or less! Get on it!

Below is a list of what we've seen, and another list of what we're planning to see:

SEEN
The Godfather
The Godfather II
Goodfellas
Mean Streets
The Departed
Scarface

TO SEE
Carlito's Way
Casino
Infernal Affairs
Eastern Promises
A History of Violence
Ransom (tenuous, I know!)

So, come on, what have I missed out off the list? Is Heat a gangster flick? Does just about anything with de Niro or Pacino qualify? And since when was Joe Pesci so freaking messed up?

At our flatwarming, a friend who hadn't realised we'd bought the place, constantly expressed his amazement at how we had changed things - after twigging that we didn't have a crazy lenient landlord, but rather that we ARE the landlord, his head stopped threatening to explode. He immediately asked about the prospect of a pet.

We'd considered it, of course, and agreed that the garden is too small for a dog, at least, a dog that didn't make Ian think of Paris Hilton. This category includes all dogs that aren't Alsatians or Bull Terriers.

We both liked the idea of a ferret, or ferrets, but after looking into it we decided it was a bit of a difficult pet to cut our teeth on; the concept of having to de-scent them was a bit left-field, for one.

So it was really down to a cat. Good size, doesn't need a garden but would do well in a small one, a normal sort of animal that could be put in a cattery for short periods of time when we go away.

Enter the Chairman:

Neither Ian nor I had a cat growing up, not for any particular reason, and we both think of ourselves as dog people, but after only 2 days we're officially cat people too. He's sweet as hell, quirky and mad - as I write this he's watching me type over my shoulder, and bless, he just thought it would be a good idea to touch a single claw on my cheek as an indication of how badly he wants that chocolate cookie I'm eating.

While pooping in my shoe cupboard at 4 this morning didn't make me love him any MORE, the way he's been curled napping on my neck all day is making me more and more in love with him. I think we'll let him stay.

I'm not a complete Snoop fan, but I've had this song in my head for about a week now. I also love that he allowed the director to take the video this far back, in styling and production quality. I mean, a Vocoder? Awesome.

I can't seem to write about things in my life or insights I have anymore, because:
(a) it's about work
(b) I have nothing more interesting than 'I dug up some concrete in the garden today' or 'we're getting a new door' - DIY overload which is boring even when you're living it yourself
(c) I open up Moveable Type and all interesting/witty writing flies straight out the window

I'm paying a small amount for the privilege of not blogging, too.

I don't want to stop though. I have this irrational fear that if I do, I'll suddenly have a massive thing happen in my life, and I'll want to write about it, and people will want to read about it, and then where will I be? I'll only have flickr, facebook, twitter, lastfm, and email to broadcast this world-rocking information (whatever it may be)! I may as well not exist!

I'm not giving up yet. I'm just thinking of it.

JJ Abrams' talk on mystery is brilliant too.

Ok, so the main topic was always going to be the flat. Things have been going fine, we seemed to veer off track into quite a lot of going out and not much saving in November, which ate both time and money. It's ok though, as we've now bought our flights to South Africa for late Feb/early March and the resulting credit card bill has shocked us both into a state of penny-pinching.

Ian, bless him, is bearing the brunt of the work. I always knew I was lazy, and he industrious (along with the Lucozade, we've now accounted for 60% of why I date him) but he has been really amazing in just getting down and doing the slog involved. I bags the fun jobs, like stripping the previous owners' dubious taste off the walls, and he gets on with the nasty ones, like skimming and sanding the walls to a state of paint-ability again. In return, I am now head chef, head dishwasher, and most importantly it seems, head tea-maker. I got off lightly, people.

So the current status is: hallway is painted. Before and after shots, all repeats from Ian and my flickr accounts:

The whole thing was wallpapered, you can really see the stripey stuff at the bottom. Dado rail is there too, and the skirting and doorframes are painted here.

The list. You are witnessing learning here, people, in real time. We have insanely huge DIY areas in our brains now.

Me removing the offending wallpaper, this is actually awesome, theraputic.

Ian removing the stuff higher on the walls. Once the steam gathers in the room you can really go for it.

This is the really nasty bit, the dust from sanding like this is indescribable.

We went with cotton twill, bottom block.

And chose some cool uplighters that light down, too.

As Gordon Ramsay would say, Hallway.... DONE.

Yes, the floors, skirting boards and doorframes still need doing, but all the floors throughout the front of the house are going to be done in one fell swoop, and frankly, I'm damn proud of the work we've done here. We're far, far away from the stage of prettying up the place but we're really getting there - we've even managed to find some sofas in the post xmas sales that we've got our eyes on.

I've found that when friends ask about how the work is going, I tend to get a bit complainy about whatever particular thing might be that day's problem, and they counteract with a 'but it's yooooours'. Yes, it is, and I love that. It's hard to look past the dust and the time-consuming nature of it, but every so often I do, and it feels pretty cool.

At the Electric Proms gig we attended at Roundhouse in Camden on Saturday.

Maximo Park at Carling Academy Brixton - supported by the Good Shoes, and Theoretical Girl and The Equations.

I bought these tickets as part of Ian's birthday gift, as I needed a cool co-present for the Wii and t-shirt I'd got him, and as we've both been listening to a fair amount of Maximo Park of late I thought it would be a good idea. He was chuffed, ace.

We met at the station in Brixton, expecting there to already be a massive queue (we had learned from the Deathcab gig) but surprisingly, there was no snaking around the block at 6:30pm - shocker. We got in, laughed at our mid-twenties selves for standing by the metal barrier that was furthest back in the venue (to put our coats over, balance drinks on, support our aging hips) and enjoyed the two support acts. Then, as the place was filling up, who should decide to stand in front of the barrier but Gargantua and Very Tall D-Bag (a pic of whom can be seen in my flickr stream).

At first, they didn't have these names, they were simply the two tallest people at the gig who decided to stand RIGHT in front of us just before the main gig. Ian and I umm'ed and aah'ed about saying anything - we don't like to persecute tall people, and man, they were TALL - but we thought we'd appeal to the common decency and humour in these tall folks and ask them politely if they wouldn't mind standing somewhere else, as we couldn't see anything of the stage beyond them.

Ian later told me that he'd honestly not entertained the idea, at all, that they would conceivably say no. Which they did. Effing rudely. My exact words of "I'm sorry, but we have been standing here since 7 o clock and we really can't see anything at all", were met with "Move then." and the two Tallest Assholes in History turning their backs on us. I don't know if I can convey how rude they were, and frankly just remembering this is annoying me, but as shock truned to disbelief turned to anger, I realised that they were just not operating on a basis of consideration. We stayed put, as did they, and while I occassionally caught a glimpse when the horse faced tall girl danced her awkward dance, the gig was basically a write-off.

Maybe I actually AM too old for this? And we still have 3 gigs to go? Was I just over-sensitive?

We enjoyed the bits of the show that we saw. It was weird because earlier on, outside, some girls had been belting out Maximo Park songs in the queue ahead of us, and when I commented that these screeching girls were dressed and acting like "chav indie kids", which we then christened as "chindie", Ian had remarked that the girls stood out because they were wailing and boozing outside the venue, unlike your usual indie music fan, who is polite, friendly, and is just there to hear a great band and have a great time. Those girls, and the two Green Giants in front of us, just did not fit that description at all.

Well, we ended up leaving slightly early, which was just as well as we unwittingly caught the last Victoria line train up into central. A bit of an ok night after all, but definitely some room for improvement!

As for the changes, Ian and I get the keys to our new place on Thursday. Last Friday night, staying in, was, we realised, our last Friday in the Deptford flat. It feels weird, and all too real now. We've bought a Victorian terrace maisonette, with old pipes and no bed and no fridge and no couch and no washing machine and no ANYTHING, and it's scary as much as it is awesome.

Paris Hilton step back - yours truly is now the star of an internet movie. No night vision necessary, as this is no ordinary boring sex tape - I have just uploaded my first video onto vzaar, the awesome video hosting website for ebay. My starring role is as 'awkward one handed DVD case opener', and believe it or not, it took me a couple of takes to get even that right.

Me mhyere, and mhyere, and mhyere. If you say you like my vid, I could win a very cool camera and stuff! To be fair, there's a lot better videos on there, but hey, I buy lotto tickets too. Ever the optimist.

If you're selling anything, try it out. After you get over the echo of your own loud voice in your flat, and after you say 'um' for the hundredth time, you get used to it!

Oh, and if you're looking for a Shrek DVD, you now know who to come to.