Veg

I’m taking a little poetic licence here (I know, I know, I’ve always been crap at poetry) but the veg I’m referring to is basically me. And my behaviour over the weekend.
On Sunday I had a ‘stay in my pyjamas’ day. It was great.
I’m taking antibiotics at the moment (long story but a clean one!) which means I can’t drink alcohol this week. There have been some ill effects. My right arm has experienced a dull, throbbing pain and is getting weaker by the minute. The sooner I can start lifting a glass the better it’ll be for my long-term health.
However, the weekend was spent with Jaffa Cakes, bucket loads of tea, assorted cakes and a friend popped around with a box of macaroons which nearly induced full-blown hysteria as I was coasting on the edge of a huge sugar tsunami as it was.

Other news…

I think I really quite fancy Sting. I never used to at all but I saw him on TV recently and I felt a bit funny. Maybe it’s the ‘older bloke who’s stayed in shape’ thing. I dunno. Maybe I’d eaten something odd that afternoon. I’ll ponder it for a while and get back to you.

Over the weekend I also took the radical step of having my head shaved. Fortunately it was a voluntary decision, not lice induced! I hate it. The weird thing is, everyone else seems to approve. I’m not sure if people are just being polite but the comments have been v. positive and range from “it makes you look younger” (not sure how that works!), “it suits you” all the way to “ooh! It’s sexy!”. The weirdest thing is that now it’s done everyone wants to feel it! Why is that I wonder. It’s just fuzz. Maybe it’s why people like stroking pets. I’m not against being rubbed gently by people, especially if they’re pleasing to the eye. The strangest comment, and a few people have said it, is “it’s good – you have the right shaped head”. What’s that all about? I’ll keep the buzz cut for a bit and see what other effects it has. I may even get to like it myself.

I’ve just realised that I’ve never got around to posting a pic of myself on my blog. I may do if I decide I like being shorn…

Gasp!

I’ve just had a wee scan over my most recent blog entries and, though I hate to admit it, I need to face the harsh reality that they’re kinda dull.

Eek. Mammoth apologies to anyone who may stop by now and again, please don’t let the recent dip in standards affect your future enjoyment. Look out for new and improved content (that I will have copied from 2005) for your reading pleasure.
“Must try harder”. Funny, that’s not something that ever appeared on any of my school reports. Or in any post ‘sack-wrestling’ feedback…

What to discuss today then? Harking back to an earlier post about what to do with my life, I’ve been having a think about what to do and where to go. Usually these thoughts have been at the most inappropriate times and places and have been accompanied by a slack jaw, open mouth and vacant gaze, sometimes even dribble.

The ‘to do’ question has kinda been shelved as it’s too difficult, so my brain has swiftly glossed over any of these considerations and pounced joyously on the ‘where to’ issue. Travelling is a bit of a passion and it occurred to me that it’s some time since I donned a backpack and trooped off with vague thoughts of ‘finding’ myself spiritually and mentally, whilst lolling somewhere fronded by palms and lapped at gently by warm seas. Of course I never found anything but the best place to get riotously drunk with shady locals of dubious repute and the knowledge that if it’s still moving I probably shouldn’t eat it (usually whilst being encouraged to do so by aforementioned locals!)

…I’ve just been handed a sherbet lemon – wow! It’s been years!…

I enjoyed my 2 year backpacking adventure and then subsequent shorter sojourns and I do yearn for that kind of freedom again. Trouble is, they don’t pay the bills do they?!

Anyone know how I can do it for a living?

On my list of things to discover…

South America – any of it will do. Apart from the dangerous bits. Does that just leave Mexico? Would the Galapagos islands be ok?

New Zealand – wanna catch me a hobbit

The Northern Lights – not a destination as such, the Southern lights would do just as nicely

Japan – I LOVE Tokyo and I’d like to explore more of the country

Canada – apparently Calgary at Stampede time is choc-full of cowboys. Wanna throw on some chaps and get all Brokeback…

Scotland in a campervan – I’ve got a cardigan and a flask

Zanzibar – I like the word so it's bound to be good, right? It’s apparently beautiful

Italy, Spain, France – super close and super sunny (mostly). I’ve seen a fair bit but I’d like to stop and spend time, learn the language, eat cakes, drink beer, take up boules…

Other areas in brief – Asia, esp, SE Asia – Laos, Vietnam, Korea, revisit Thailand, Malaysia & Singapore. USA by large car with loud radio & trunk groaning with junkfood.

I’ll send you all a postcard. I wish…

Club Sandwich

Why are they so good? I’m munching through one right now and it’s great. I only ever seem to have them whilst on holiday (another unanswered question there too!) but I saw one today and decided it would fill a gap. I don’t feel like I’m on holiday but it’s a welcome change from the norm.

My shopping trip over the weekend was a bit of a change from the norm too. Things were going well, until a few purchases in… my card stopped functioning and, try as I might, I couldn’t get it to work in machines or anything. Bugger! Perplexed and a little frustrated I called my bank. They explained that due to the recent activity on the card they thought it had been stolen and put a stop on it! Admittedly, the ‘few’ purchases I’d made were quite pricey and in rapid succession – just two pairs of shoes and a new mobile phone. I was advised that the unblocking process would take 24 hours. Harrumph! That put an end to my spree. I could have used another card but I reckoned I could do it all over again next week instead.

It also meant that the other half had to pay for dinner as I cried poverty and misery due to my new status of alienation from the international banking system. Always a silver lining. Mind you, he would have paid anyway. He always does. Bless.

It’s strange that I bought shoes though. I really don’t enjoy buying them. Not sure why. It always feels such a chore. Maybe it’s because I didn’t actually need them that made them easier to buy…? Didn’t actually need the phone either, I just felt my current one needed updating. I’d really struggle if I were a woman. I don’t get the whole shoes and handbag thing. Don’t get me wrong, I like to buy good shoes (don’t see any sense skimping on something I’ll be standing around in all day/evening), but I’m not filled with the same joy, post-purchase as I am with other clothes. And as for bags! That’s something I simply don’t comprehend. I hate carrying anything. If it doesn’t fit in my pockets (or the other half can’t carry it) it stays at home. Perhaps I need my own lady-in-waiting to cart all of my knick-knacks about, just a respectable few paces behind obviously, as they do.

Right, back to my club sandwich. It’s good but it really isn’t the same without the sunshine, the proximity to a beach/mountain/lake/pool and French fries.

Spring has sprung

… but how long will it last? We’re having lovely sunny weather this week and everything is perky and bright, including me. However, we could be plunged back into gloom again as there is snow forecasted for the middle of next week. I can’t keep up. It’s coat on, coat off, coat on weather.

I had a chicken & bacon panini for lunch. It wasn’t what I wanted at first but I settled into demolishing it with gusto. It was rather good. The only issue I had was that it could have done with more filling at one end. Often the way with sandwiches. Often the way with life too, I think. One end needs a bit more filling, padding or improvement, whilst other parts are choc-full and bursting with goodies. Hmmm. My last post was a bit of a mooch about work which is plodding on the same, as mentioned previously, but other things in my life are tearing along at a cracking pace and I have the proverbial wind blowing thru my hair (also sadly more proverbial than it used to be…)

Talking of wind thru my hair… we got the registration number for our new car today. It’s to be delivered in a couple of weeks’ time. We shall have to start saying our goodbyes to our current vehicle. It’ll be sad. Beyonce (our car – there is an explanation) has done us great service for the last couple of years but it’s time for her to be passed to someone else so they can enjoy her many delights. Actually, now I’ve mentioned the car’s name I realise that our new machine will need a fitting label. It’s not as sexy as Beyonce, but more masculine, shiny and er… well... more German. Perhaps Klaus or Helmut…? I definitely need to give it more thought.

At last it’s Friday. I intend to dent my bank account tomorrow, as it’s been ages since I’ve run amok in the shops. I have hopes of taking the West End by storm and leaving many outlets totally empty of fabulous things. Should I draft a schedule to give structure to my mission? Should I just await inspiration and let instinct take over, allowing myself to be drawn to the designers that my inner being yearns for? I may need a cheeky aperitif to help me decide. I’ll probably have a spot of lunch first, before launching my onslaught. The excitement mounts…

Have a splendid weekend all.

Chocolate fingers, cheese on toast and comfort food

I’m feeling a bit flat lately. Not sure why. My normally perky disposition has been replaced with a ‘Groundhog Day’ kind of gloom. The other half is away for a week (in Cannes of all places!), my parents are a long way away and I’m feeling lonesome. I’m really rubbish on my own. Even TV is boring without someone to talk to about it.
I wish I had a dog. They’re such great comfort and always pleased to see you. It’s totally impractical for us to have one of course, but right now it would do just the trick. A fuzzy friend with an eager to please attitude would be perfect.

I’m having to turn to comfort food instead. I’ve reverted to my student days and I’m eating things I haven’t had in years – it’s fabulously retro . The other half wouldn’t dream of consuming the stuff I’m having right now so it’s a blessing he’s not here to see me devour it. I can’t even divulge the food crimes I’m committing as it’s too, too embarrassing. Some of it involves macaroni, tinned beans and packet cheese sauce but I’ll go no further as I want to keep some shreds of self-respect and dignity…

I think it’s my job that’s leading me to feel this way. As someone who recruits others for a living, you’d think I’d be able to sort myself out. Not so. The company I work for, to the outside world, is dynamic, fresh and exciting but after 10 years I’m over it now. I think it’s time I moved on…

What to? Obviously a food taster somewhere would be ideal. However, I’m getting on a bit (not too far on, you understand but on nonetheless!) so I really need to decide what it is that I want to be when I grow up. Sadly the grown up part is already here and I still haven’t made up my mind. Oh crap! Is this a mid-life crisis? When is mid-life? Where are all of the rules on this stuff kept? Are there some instructions somewhere? Wonder if there’s a website… I’ve got so much ‘life’ stuff sorted out lately that I think I’m on a roll and need to iron out all these wrinkles.

Maybe I should have a cup of tea and a digestive whilst I think it through. I’ll pat my imaginary, virtual dog (I’m calling him Colin) and mull it all over.

Answers on a comments post-card please to….

Alpen Yoghurt Bars with Apple & Blackberry

!

It's madness. I never thought I'd be typing anything like this. Alpen yoghurt bars with apple & blackberry are seriously good. What's more, they're really healthy too. Sadly, I seem to be missing the whole point from the health angle as I've eaten a box of six in two days. I think the idea is to have one a day for breakfast...

I'm having trouble blogging at the moment. I often do it at work during my lunchtime but the nazi internet police at the company where I work have prevented all internet use, apart from management approved sites. Basically, if it's not essential to your job, you can't access it. What a big fat pain. It's not as if I don't get my work done.

So. What have I been up to? Er...

Spent the weekend at our place in Brighton. It's been a while since we were there last and it was great to be by the sea again. Saturday was a be-yoooo-tiful day so it was briliant to be out and about. However, that's really all I can write about on the 'fresh air and clean living' aspects of a life by the sea.

The other half had a small business meeting on Saturday afternoon (captains of industry never switch off do they...?). Our friend David and I decided that a bit of shopping would hit the spot but we were derailed by a nearby bar and the lure of cocktails. At 3.30pm! It's scandalous, I know. But we threw caution to the wind, set up a tab and settled in for tall glasses of ice-pop flavoured goop, fruit salad garnish and a cheeky kick. Some time later the other half arrived to a smiley pair of booze addled wrecks and declared last orders. We trundled off home to have a disco nap before the evening's shenanigans. Half way home, David piped up "uh-oh....". As there was some ridiculous face pulling to accompany the 'uh-oh' I wondered what the heck he was on about. With good cause, David had halted in his tracks. We'd forgotten to pay the tab and had just walked out. Major faff! We called the bar and apologised hugely. The barman - attractive, rakish and, as with barmen almost everywhere, always temptingly just out of reach - was massively impressed and thanked us for being honest. WTF? We returned, now disappointingly sober to pay the bill.

It was starting to get a bit chilly and David began to get a bit grumbly about not having any holidays to look forward to. Suddenly he then lurched off to the left, dragging me in to a tanning salon. I wasn't as sober as I thought because six minutes later I was back on the street with a warm glow and a somewhat rosier complexion. I don't normally go in for a blast on a sunbed but I've got to admit, I did feel perkier and rather more dashing with a Saturday night tan!

We raced home, showered, changed and then nipped to a nearby bar for drinks with a friend before floating off on a vodka foamed wave to a great restaurant for dinner. If anyone is visiting Brighton and looking for recommendations, you MUST try Pintxo People. It's kinda cool, makes the most amazing Blueberry Daquiris (I know - I'm just bursting with testosterone in this post aren't I?) and has a really fun atmosphere. The food is amazing - it's the only chance the other half gets to speak as David and I spend a fair bit of time deep in serious concentration, shovelling food into our usually yacking pie-holes. Poor bloke. We had the best octopus I've ever tasted tho. Even the other half liked it and he avoids all foodstuffs with the texture of marigold gloves, perhaps understandably.

We ended up falling out of the restaurant and getting home at about 2am.

I was just pulling my shoes off and trying to decide whether I could be arsed making a cup of tea before bed or not, when the other half declared he wasn't ready for bed, that we were going back out and a taxi was on it's way. Bloody hell. Back on with my shoes and coat.

Some hours later, when the other half realised he wasn't made for extended drinking or dancing, he hauled David and I out of the club and into a taxi home.

Whilst leaning against the sink with an enormous glass of water before bed, I received a text message from my chums who now live in Sydney. I replied and they called me - they were still ripped to the gills from Mardi Gras the day before and just gearing up for a Sunday night's revelry. I've got to hand it to them. Those guys were rubbish when they lived in London and would be safely in bed by 1am. Sydney has honed them into hardened party boys. Must be all that sea air....

Right. My next post will be shorter, involve more cake and I promise to butch up. Honest.