Highly Strung

It’s been some time… so what’s been happening?  Well, work has been mental, winter has slowly come to an end, I just ordered an iPad and the clocks have changed.

Bigger news for me personally is that in a month or so I’m moving into a friend’s house having sensibly come to the conclusion that in order to play the long game and live the way I’d like to, I now need to save some money.  So as much as I love my big kitchen, my own blessed solitude and of course Crouch End, I’m off anyway – mid May you will find me down Dulwich way.

I popped down there in the weekend.  I say popped down, I cycled for 12 miles from North London and on to the city, then through the wilds and badlands of south London until I reached an altogether more leafy, gentle and a good deal posher place…Dulwich; I had arrived.

It starts with putting a cup of milk in the freezer, take it out when it’s icy in a slushy way.

Add the slushy milk, one banana, a tablespoon of greek yoghurt and a tablespoon of honey. Blend until smooth.

The perfect drink for a Saturday morning. All the benefits of a milkshake without the fattiness of ice-cream and without artificial flavours.

So I’m back from my holiday in New Zealand and not totally happy about it.  Work has immediately been mental and I’m none to impressed with the weather.

Coping strategies have included getting back on my bike for the commute, watching endless episodes of Sex in the City and becoming addicted to The Hills and The City (my secret shame).  As a result I’ve been;

• chilled to the bone from cycling

• starting to believe I AM Carrie Bradshaw (especially when I had a major hardware failure on my Mac recently)

• developing a major crush on Audrina’s ex (Justin Bobby!) on The Hills

• being appalled at Olivia’s bad behaviour and incompetence on The City.

Apart from that I’ve just been trying to reacquaint myself with life in the big smoke..

Here’s a happy pic to cheer me up:

As my hols draw to a close I find myself looking forward to the peace and quiet of home, disliking the idea of going back to work and anticipating missing the kiwi way of life.

As always it aint easy to be a house guest for longer than a few days.  Not only are you constantly on someone elses timetable (which is hard for a control enthusiast) but you also can’t fully relax.  For example it’s now 6.30pm, at 6.30pm at home I’d normally have removed my bra by now and possibly already have applied my pyjama bottoms.

Flu!  for the second time this year!  Our office’s Paris trip seems to have left a number of us afflicted – 7 that I directly work with – I suspect more i don’t directly work with are MIA also.

The following email thread with Kiwi best mate sums up my feelings re Paris:

Me: Paris has killed not just me, but also many of my colleagues

Best mate: I take it Paris has yet again failed to win a fond place in your heart. (her remembering my last time there when my ex broke up with me the morning we arrived back).

Me: Forget Paris, Paris is dead to me … etc

Best mate: We’ll always have Funsbury Park

Yes indeed we will, please all cross fingers that I am better tomorrow, I have shit to do before flying to NZ on Friday.

I was totally scared I wasn’t going to be able to keep up with the kids from work at our Xmas do. The drinking started at midday as soon as the train left St Pancras and continued throughout the journey despite a visitation from 8 of the Gendarmes finest. Did we really believe that if we continued to drink we’d be arrested on arrival? Clearly the colleague who ‘double dared’ them to, did not. Was it strictly necessary for them to confiscate two of the senior members of staffs passports, I don’t think so! Was there a bunch of them awaiting us at Gare du nord? no there was not. Clearly a whole lotta bluffing going on.

Rather than taking a break from beer on arrival I thought it best to continue, clearly my judgement was already impaired And as me and my room mate enjoyed a beer and chatted, I was definitely not getting more sober. My plan to avoiding the embarrassment of a throwing up incident later was being rapidly eroded.

Many hours, a dinner, a pub and two room parties later I called it a night, or a rather and early morning, it was time to bring a disgraceful 16 hours of drinking to an end. As for the plan to avoid the embarrassment of puking in front of my lovely room mate, we both failed that one. My poor pal continued to do so right up until we hit the channel tunnel, bless her heart.

Many more stories of course, but my lips are sealed, I’ll call you and tell you about it Vic .

Me and my room mate were not the only sorry looking faces the next morning, one young fella I work with was unable to leave the safety of his hotel toilet for a good number of hours and yet another looked grey and could barely string a sentence together. We were by no means the only pukers among us.

The bottom line is, I survived! I didn’t do anything stupid and I was among the last standing. Thank god that’s over. I will now turn my attention to the sky and my impending trip to the antipodes. Merry Christmas.

Just one reason I’m very much looking forward to heading off to my home country next week.  Although it’s fair to say they look like little angels but are at the age where in person they resemble little devils.

Other reaons I love going to New Zealand;

• pies
• sunshine
• friendly folk (so friendly, it makes me suspicious for the first few days)
• no reason or point thinking about work
• christmas with the family
• just doing not much

My period is three days late (very unusual for me) I think I might be having Christ’s baby – immaculate conception is the only explanation in this case (more’s the pity).  Season’s greetings!