I've just realised I've put my dress on back to front again. Luckily it's a boring straight one so it looks exactly the same. But the label is scratching my neck.

I was dressed in a very nice black suit - epaulettes, slim cut, above the knee of course, bare legs, great shoes (tan suede, black leather pointed - very Chanel but higher and thinner heels). Gold earrings and gold watch. Rather heavy/evening black eye make up, just Vaseline on eyebrows and lips. I've rarely looked so grown up. On my way to my meeting I felt a large hard lump on my forearm but tried to calm myself and the terror by thinking 'deal with it later, nothing you can do right now, deal with it later'. It was a wine cork, that fell from my sleeve across the table as I gesticulated to make a point. It rolled all the way across to the other side where my opposite number picked it up in disgust and stood it on top of her diary.

That reminds me of a job interview I had where they kindly gave me a bottle of water, and I dropped the top and it rolled round and round the table in ever-decreasing circles for an eternity.

I wasn't dressed nearly so smartly though.

Always the way isn't it! I saw this persons name as the headline speaker during a conference not long ago. I immediately went back to my hotel and stayed there.

A friend of mine's job interview story, her top button on her blouse popped off and hit one of her interviews in the face.

She got the job.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UklIMCtUxTU

Never have I ever sat through a Carry On film, nor would I. I'd rather stay over in an unlocked guest bedroom at the White House.

It's nice to meet you anyway. I have often heard you mentioned here on the NHOTW

Oh dear, poor you and/or me. Nice to meet you too. Are you having a good evening? I was going to post initially on the how's your life thread, but the last post there is very sad so I thought not. Scamming a 98 year old man, some people really should be taken out and ****.

I'm having a very nice evening thank you. I'm on holiday so I'm free to drink pinot grigio and wander round the internet.

Oh fab. Intending to do likewise once I've taken some white gloss to my son's bedroom door, which is currently painted in different coloured lettering spelling 'F*CK OFF'. I've tried to live with it but it doesn't match the rest of the hallway.

Is nobody here to play? There must be more wardrobe malfunctions than this. One I may have told Nightjar when it happened to me during a time I had a contract in Aberdeen.

Midwinter - major presentation scheduled for the following morning. Checked in, then went for a spray tan and a few drinks. Woke up around 4am desperate for a pee, and on my way past the bathroom mirror in my hotel suite was confronted by a vision of horror - a white lower half face (and ruined pillowcase) and everything else looked like I'd been cooked in a particularly neon Madras sauce. Emergency cab trip to 24h supermarket in sunglasses and thick red cashmere scarf wrapped round my head, in search of the the darkest foundation they had to even things out and tone down the neon.

And only all that after having to wake and say a hasty darkened goodbye and get out to a rather gorgeous young Scouse oil rigger I'd picked up earlier.