How Great is Cake?

...

2010-02-17T17:07:00.004Z

... thud...

Blog Salmonella...

2010-01-19T14:07:00.003Z

Can you hear it...? It's very faint but it's still there - just. It's the weakening pulse of my blog.

I've been thinking. I've neglected it so badly for well over a year now. Maybe it's time I put a fast and lethal bullet through it's temple to finish it off humanely. It's the kindest thing to do.

Too much cake isn't always a good thing. The arteries of my blog have furred up and it's become slow and stodgy. I don't look after it enough and it limps on untended and unloved. I don't think anyone reads it these days; there's rarely anything new on here to read. So. What's the point?

I spent some time musing on why I enjoyed writing it. Strangely, those reasons still exist - I do still enjoy writing stuff. I just don't seem to have the motivation any more.

I wonder if there's some kind of blog vet who could pop a needle into a saggy old bit of skin and restore the once shiny, wet nose of my blog and put the swish back into it's previously waggy tail? If only I knew where to find the blog vet. I suspect that he may be like the Wizard of Oz - but a lot more handsome with smashing teeth and lovely hair - really only in my mind and my blog's last prayers.

Sheesh! Blog death row. It's come to this.

Is there any salvation out there? Anyone wanna write a post or two for me? Guest speakers in a manner of er... speaking. I remember whilst backpacking, I wrote a few of my friends' post-cards as they coudn't be arsed. It was fun writing on behalf of someone else and, of course, gave me the opportunity to spread untold impish naughtiness.

Noose, bullet or poison? Possible saviour?

Anyone?

Stale

2009-11-14T08:05:00.003Z

Curses! I said I wouldn't let it happen again and look what's happened! My blog has gone all stale and out of date. Again.

Not that it really matters as I don't have that many people drop in any more. Why should they? - it's all old news. Oh, poor, poor blog. I've neglected you so much.

Right. then. Let's get this tidied up and back on track.

My blog is about cake - kinda. Sadly I've given cake up. It's heart-breaking really. My digestive system has taken an absolute hammering over the last 40 years. I've put it through some tough stuff. Now, it's having it's revenge. I've had to give up some of my favourite things to stay healthy. It was grim at first but now it's kind of easy - it's all my own fault and I look back at the punishment I've inflicted on myself and I'm really not surprised! OK. List of things I can no longer eat/drink

bread - absolute agony

cake - see above

biscuits - holy crap - more favourites wiped out. sob!

pasta

rice - only in small amounts

wine - a particularly upsetting abstention

champagne - could it get any worse?! But it's like drinking battery acid for me these days

breakfast cereal - tragedy. I used to have cereal for dinner sometimes - I love it so much.

milk - I never drank much milk anyway but full fat seems to be worst

Pleasingly vodka, chocolate, potatoes (which therefore means chips and crisps - yay!) and yoghurt are still fully accepted by my now moody, old-age body so all is not lost. Although I do look like a dirty old boozer drinking vodka tonics at the dinner table when everyone else is carping on about how excellent the wine is. God! I'm turning into Sue Ellen!! Meh! I'm over it.

So. How great is cake? Well. Obviously it is GREAT. But I don't get to eat it much now. However, I do allow it occasionally which makes it more of a treat.

On the upside of all this, I've lost about 2000 kilos and all my clothes are now too big. Perhaps I should change the blog to "How Great is Shopping"

I'm still totally obsessed by food though and my current passion is one I'm not proud of... I just can't eat enough crabsticks!! TOH and friends all look on with horror as I plough through tons of the things. Japan will soon be experiencing an unexplainable shortage and restaurants all over Tokyo will be out of business. I'll also be turning pinky orange and will smell, unattractively, of the wrong side of the wharf. I'm such a catch. TOH must feel so lucky.

Dubai has become just super-duper. Winter has set in and it's glorious. 30 degrees today with a cheeky breeze to freshen everything up. For the first time in months we've been able to turn the AC off and throw all of the doors and windows open. The cleaner will be shovelling sand from all of the corners as a result if the wind picks up but for now we're loving it. I even wore a jumper the other day - I felt chilly.

Right then. I'm off outside into the blue-sky day.

Ciao my lovelies!

snacks

2009-10-22T15:48:00.004+01:00

It's been a while. Again. Miss me?

OK. I've lived in the UAE for a little over a year now and a lot has changed. I've decided to list my top 10 things that I like about living here.

1. It's always sunny. I'm from the UK, it makes a difference - believe me.

2. I can see the beach and the sea from my living room and I live on a cool marina.

3. I've made some great new friends.

4. The place is literally growing around us. It's sprouting out of the ground as we watch.

5. It is a city that never sleeps - there's always somewhere to go.

6. Food. Any kind of cuisine, from anywhere in the world is available almost always within a few minutes of my apartment.

7. Anything (and more) in point 6 can be delivered if I'm feeling lazy or hungover.

8. The architecture is bizarre, amazing and without limits. Some hate that but I think the triumphs in building the most ridiculous ideas are incredible.

9. Having a gym in my building has now actually forced me to get in shape, lose weight and look much healthier.

10. Sunsets. They don't last very long here but the unbelievable beauty would probably be too much to cope with if they went on any longer.

11. Crabsticks. I know, I know. I only said top 10 and you can get crabsticks anywhere. But I've become obsessed. Is that wrong? Aah pfft. Bite me.

Greek Mezze

2009-09-14T15:16:00.003+01:00

Aah me... Aren't holidays great?! I've just got back from a totally awesome time in Mykonos. It'll take me too long to explain why it was so good but I met lots of new, amazing people who I hope that I'll stay in touch with - more importantly it made me realise just how much I miss my friends and what good friends they are. I don't mean this in a mopey, sad way but in a "my friends are ace and I'm pleased that they are there" kind of way.

I haven't laughed so often or for so long in ages. Mykonos is beautiful and spending time lolling on the beach and catching up was brilliant. Of course there was a LOT of people watching to do so I was incredibly busy being nosey whilst slurping on a beverage - more often than not a cheeky afternoon rose.

My diet consisted mainly of vodka, strawberry daiquiris (very masculine if held in the right way and absolutely packed with vitamin C... ) and chicken kebabs. Shocker of a health plan, I know, but I don't think I've ever been on holiday and lost weight before... until now. I guess I understand why it's rare that you see fat alcoholics...

Of course I came home with all sorts of Mamma Mia dreams; owning my own guesthouse, singing and dancing on rocky outcrops, having very attractive locals hovering 'round my doorstep from dawn 'til dusk - the usual kind of thing. They are all fading now as I realise it would be totally different and I'd spend most of the time stuffing laundry into a machine or my arm up a blocked u-bend. However, it has made me realise something quite important. It's not exactly a bolt from the blue but one of those "I knew that all of the time but why did I never really think about it" kinda things. I've travelled a lot and fallen in love with more or less every place I've been to (with a few ropey exceptions). My biggest love affair was (and still is in a small way) with Sydney. All Australians may smile gloatingly. But. My epiphany is that I want to live in Europe - preferable on the Mediterranean somewhere. It just feels so right. I love it. Now just need to decide exactly where...

My pics of the holidays are mostly of people getting absolutely plastered and looking tremendously jolly but I'm sure that most of them wouldn't want to make a guest appearance on my blog, so the picture is of the hilarious shoes of an enormous towering trannie that stood next to us at a sea front bar in downtown Mykonos...

Crumpet

2009-08-22T09:26:00.006+01:00

Hello

Again it's been some time but not as long as before. At least I don't think it has been. Umm.

Let's start with crumpets. I've had a real longing for them the past couple of weeks. I'm not sure why but thoughts of them dripping with butter and covered in marmite and melted cheese haven't been far from my mind. Maybe it's because they're not so easy to find here. Apparently there is a supermarket in Abu Dhabi that has them frozen. Maybe I need to take a road trip to Abu Dhabi and load up.

It's been a packed couple of weeks. Last week I was instructed (read 'ordered') to fly to Dublin for one day of work. It was a total waste of time and only for PR purposes rather than real recruitment. It makes me kinda mad that I have to raise people's hopes and expectations, yet in reality they won't ever be offered a job. The purpose of the trip was actually to sell seats rather than offer jobs to people on the brink of being made redundant. I'm not enjoying this aspect of my role. It's a strange company angle on marketing. In my previous company, this kind of tactic would never have been used - and that was a company who milked every ounce of opportunity from every situation. It's for reasons like this, and many dreadful others, that I've started to look for a new job. I really like living in Dubai so I don't want to leave. However, I can't live here without a visa and there are no visas without a job. So I have to find myself a new one before I can tell my current employers that they stink. I'll keep you all posted on progress. A recruitment professional looking for recruitment work during a recession... hmmmm... could be a while before something comes up!

I cooked a chicken for the first time in our apartment. Well, I say 'chicken'. The chickens on sale here are tiny. It's like stuffing a chaffinch. For 6 people I had to buy 2 birds, and I felt that was going to be a stretch. I made extra potatoes and stuff to fill everyone up. Dinner was a success. Hilariously, people didn't seem too arsed about the chicken - they were more excited about the potatoes - there were 2 Lebanese guests, 1 Indian and 1 Emirati. Roasted potatoes don't seem to feature in the cuisines from their homes. Who knew?! Roasted potatoes are cool.

It's Ramadan here now so we're not permitted to eat or drink in public during daylight hours. The place virtually grinds to a halt as the muslim followers get more and more tired as the month passes. It's so hot at the moment so it must be so difficult for them to get through to sunset before they can break their fast - even water is not permitted. However, as soon as that sun everyone eats like there's no tomorrow. It's great! There is no music in bars/restaurants and the atmosphere is much more subdued. Shops generally don't open until after sunset, restaurants/cafes are closed. So. What to do? Why, feck off to Mykonos - that's what!

In 6 days we're flying to glorious Greece and beautiful Mykonos. I can't wait. This time next week I'll be stuffing my face with dolmades and slurping on retsina.

I'll post about it on my return.

Quick Snack

2009-07-31T17:29:00.009+01:00

Yet again, time has dragged on, mountains have risen and fallen, oceans have run dry and new species have evolved before being wiped out by pollution. I haven't posted for an age. Yet again, I have absolutley no excuse.

In fact right now, I can't even think of anything to post about. Cake? Hmmm... there has been some excellent cake in the past few weeks. Two worthy of note have been a terrifyingly good carrot cake at Lime Tree Cafe and a mind blowingly large slab of 'red velvet' at the Chocolate Cafe in Dubai Mall. The first was devoured immediately but I spent quite a bit of time during cake consumption using my best defensive fork manoeuvres to prevent George (my cake buddy) from scoffing all of the gooey cream filling bits before I could get a share. TOH arrived half way through so only enjoyed the crumbs. The Red Velvet was a total surprise (I'd only popped in for a drink of tea). It was the size of a small Fiat and covered in butter cream icing. My arteries hardened even as it was being walked to our table. TOH put on his best smug grin at my overindulgence... until his cupcake arrived. I think the work 'cup' was used loosely, as any receptacle that big surely must be considered a 'bowl'. My cake was too vast to finish and I left defeated and shamed by a mountain of dense red sponge.

I've also been on a fabulous holiday to Corsica - just before the dreadful forest fires started. It's such a beautiful place and I'd happily go back. I overindulged there so much, I actually made myself ill! Will I ever learn? Apparently not. This is the view from our villa at sunset. Also featured is me with the same sunset.

Summer is in full swing here now and the humidity is intense. I feel I need scuba gear just to walk to the shop around the corner. However, the good news is that summer is almost half over (when do you ever hear someone say that...?) which means we'll be able to enjoy outdoor living again in about 6 weeks. Yay!

Toast

2009-06-25T14:43:00.013+01:00

Whilst I love a bit of toast – especially with Marmite – this post isn’t really about crispy, burned bread. Although thinking about it now, I could really go a munch on some buttery toast, perhaps with a bit of cheese….

I digress. I’m talking about the kind of toast one has with champagne – as in raising one’s glass.

My toast goes to Dubai; more specifically, to our apartment in Dubai. The apartment was successfully launched last weekend when we invited a few friends over before hitting the town. We’d planned a few drinks, some nibbles and some polite chit-chat. Instead we got through gallons of booze, the nibbles went ignored and the chat was seriously on the wrong side of decorous…

It was also the first time since moving to the UAE that I truly felt that I live here and actually have a life here. After being unhappy for quite a while, then gradually getting used to the place, I hadn’t realised that’s all it was for me at the time – I was just used to it, not necessarily enjoying it. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate it any more - it was fine - but last weekend reminded me how much I used to love the life I had in London and I felt for the first time, in a long time, that I was having that same kind of life here, now that we’ve moved to Dubai.

I reckon part of it was also having a house full of people. When we first moved to this country we had a very small circle of friends which was unusual, for me at least. I was lucky as one of those friends is my oldest friend and having her here was an enormous help. Without her and TOH I’d have probably packed my bags and moved home within a couple of months. Since we moved to Dubai, we’ve made more friends in a few weeks than we did in our 8 months of Abu Dhabi life. I guess it’s because there are more chaps of ‘lavender persuasion’ in Dubai and those we have met have been so welcoming and inclusive that we already feel kinda warm and fuzzy about the place. Last weekend we met even more people – friends bring friends etc - there were some new faces that I definitely hope we’ll see again and become good friends with. It’s always nice to have someone to meet up with for a cup of coffee and a biscuit. Or maybe a hulking huge piece of cake. Hmmm… actually, I haven’t found anyone to eat cake with yet. Everyone we’ve met in Dubai is super-toned and buff. I felt a bit like Hagrid when stood next to Dubai’s cute, young things. If I can’t find anyone, I shall corrupt one of the more vulnerable guys. Alternatively, I could find a lady – they’re always up for some sinful eating and usually don’t suffer as much guilt as the beach-body boys that Jumeirah proudly presents.

***stop press*** The lovely George has offered to be my partner-in-cake. Thank you George - although I want to see you demolish some serious amounts of cake and I want to see a spare tyre building up within 3 months or you'll be sacked.

Whilst I’m on the subject of the beach, I was down at Jumeirah Beach last weekend. Again, I felt like Hagrid - this time in shorts - when sprawled next to strapping hotties. Even the sea offered no escape as it’s so warm it’s like stepping into a jacuzzi. It was actually cooler leaving the sea into 40 degree heated air, I almost felt relieved.
I like Jumeirah Beach – it’s busy in a fun way and the potential for people watching is enormous. I spent most of the time sat, like a meerkat in sunglasses, observing beach life. I love it!

Already the weekend is here again. We have no plans. I quite fancy some more lively entertainment but we’ll see how things pan out. If nothing else, I could just drink wine and watch the world drift by on the marina. It’s better than telly!!

btw the pics are of our apartment and the view in one direction from our balcony.

Pfftt...

2009-06-06T13:12:00.003+01:00

I'm out of excuses. I'm just slack at blogging these days.

This morning whilst going out for breakfast I decided I'd take my camera along to get some neighbourhood pics to use as a post. It was a lovely morning - 34 degrees - with a bit of a breeze to keep the burn at bay. We landed at an Italian cafe at the beach and ordered coffee and breakfast, I decided it was time to whip out my camera and take a few snaps. I got one under my belt - a bit of a warmer upper I guess you could call it - then there was a gentle buzz, a small click and my camera tidied itself away for a battery depleted nap. Bugger! The pic here isn't mine. It's Jumeirah Beach, just in front of where I had breakfast.

I had plans of a fruity, oaty, cereal based breakfast with perhaps a cheeky helping of yoghurt, however I caved in and had an aubergine, mozarella and mushroom panini instead. I did have a skimmed latte though, as a respectful nod in the direction of healthy eating.

The gentlemen passing the cafe today were as yummy as my breakfast. It was a good job I was wearing sunglasses as my meerkat impersonation was absolutely shameless. TOH was pretending to read the newspaper but I could tell he was paying attention as he read the same page for ages before I challenged him about it!

The pleasant morning suddenly got scorching hot so we made a run for it and since then I've been wrestling with my iTunes which has gone totally crackers and is unable to find the folders for any of my music. The advice from the world's geeks has been helpful but also useless - something they honestly advised that I should be prepared for.

Another battle we're having right now is with a large army of the UAE's most intelilgent ants. How the heck they're getting in to our kitchen is a secret we've yet to discover but they've maintained a constant presence near the teabags for about a week now. Who knew? Ants like a brew in the afternoon like the rest of us. Perhaps they're also quite smart in assuming that where there's tea, there's quite possibly a good chance that there'll be biscuits. Foolish ants!! Don't they realise that biscuits go stale in seconds here if they're not kept in the fridge? Maybe this is just a diversionary tactic and whilst we're watching their small-time investigations, there's an enormous squadron of them making off with the contents of the freezer and the booze cupboard. Note to self... check booze cupboard.

We've settled in to our neighbourhood now and we're getting the hang of where everything is. On Thursday evening we went to Buddha Bar for dinner - it's just across the Marina from where we live so it's kind of one of our local restaurants. It's very cool and the food was great. TOH and I got far too tipsy on cocktails and wine but it was a great evening.

We're a little sad that the summer is more or less here which means that we won't be able to make much use of our huge terrace. It gets far too hot in summer - temperatures last week were up to 47 degrees but the humidity in August and September is immense; breathing outside is like trying to breath under water.

TOH has just returned home with a massive bush for the terrace. Apparently it's quite happy to live in the heat but requires watering every day. I'll give it 3 weeks before we're having some kind of plant removal...

FREE FOOD!!

2009-05-10T15:38:00.002+01:00

OK. I haven't posted for a while. I've been packing. Well. Not true. I've been thinking about packing to move house but in the end I hired someone else to do it. They packed in a fraction of the time it would have taken me, it was all done tidily, without damage and they did it all with such good humoured high spirits that it was almost pleasurable moving home. Again. For the 4th time in 8 months.

I now live in Dubai. I love it. I love it. There's just one thing though. I can't stop loving it. My neighbourhood is just too marvellous to cope with. My internet isn't yet connected so I'm sat in the coffee shop across the road and they have a happy hour every weekday evening between 6-9pm when they serve free food! Could anyone believe just how ecstatic this makes me feel? And it's not just a few crisps and dry old nuts (no comments please). It's full on sandwiches, canapes (v swanky I tell ya) and cake-tastic cakery!! I'm considering a profiterole. I know! I KNOW!! Free profiteroles. Paradise.

OK. Back to my new home. Not sure if I've mentioned it yet but I love it. It has a vast wraparound balcony that I could possibly convert into a fully functional 10 pin bowling alley with snack and drinks service at one end. The view is of the marina, the beach/sea, and in one direction the Palm Jumeirah. I can't wait to leave work each day to get home and sit and gaze out at my view. I don't think I'll tire of it.

As soon as the internet is up and running later this week I'll post some pics.

I'm just fizzing with contentment. Right. Time for a bit of cake.

Light Snack

2009-04-13T19:22:00.007+01:00

Yet again my blog posting performance is dismal. But I have been doing stuff – honest! Work has been surprisingly quiet but other things have been hectic. I had my parents come to stay which was great. They really loved the place and it was weird seeing the city (which has caused me tons of stress) through their eyes. They thought it was an awesome place to visit. I’m not sure how they’d feel if they lived here but they certainly enjoyed their holiday.

The bed in the spare room wasn’t even cold before our next house guest arrived. One of our good friends came to stay to get some longed for sunshine, after the grim, snowy cold of the UK winter. Alas… Mother Nature had a whole different set of plans set aside. I went to the airport to collect him and parked my car on a balmy, warm evening. He landed, collected his bags and we walked outside and into a savage sandstorm, the likes of which I’d never seen here before. By the time we’d dashed to the car and loaded it up, I felt like I’d spent weeks on a beach. If I’d much hair left it would have looked like a surfer’s after a few days of serious saltwater treatment. I was tipping sand out of my ears for days afterwards. Don't even mention exfoliation...

The weather continued to misbehave; the sandstorms were cleared away by torrential rain and amazing thunderstorms. All fairly unusual for a desert climate in March. In the week that he stayed here, our sun-seeking guest had only 2 mornings of sunshine. Ironically, as soon as he left the sun returned and the heat hit us like a sledge-hammer.

We’ve been traipsing backward and forward to Dubai so often at weekends - to take visitors and to meet friends - that we decided we might as well just give in and move there. The last few weekends have been spent exploring apartments and we’ve found one we really like. There are a few minor hurdles to be cleared with our current apartment – hopefully they won’t become major ones and prevent us from moving. I can’t wait. I’ve always liked Dubai. It’s lively, brassy and has more going on. Someone described it as Las Vegas on steroids. It kind of is. Hopefully we’ll be living at the marina which means we’ll be by the sea and I’ll be able to see it from every window. That alone will make me incredibly happy.

We just need a big van and someone to help lug our stuff about so that we can move for the fourth time in 7 months. Sheesh…

p.s. the pic is how the marina and the Palm Jumeira looked a few years ago before work really started. It's nearly finished now. The building I'll be living in isn't even on the picture but is on the far right of the marina where there are some boats. We'll have views of the sea, the palm and the marina. Opinion is divided on the whole project. Whatever you think, you can't deny that it's a major feat of engineering. None of it is natural. I love a bit of tat so I'm very much looking forward to living in a area of such hilarious campery!

a few crumbs..

2009-03-20T14:53:00.004Z

OK... It's been a while again. Sorry. I've been a busy chap. The weather has been glorious, I've had my parents visiting (which was great), we have another visitor arriving this week which will be fun and we've been to Dubai a few weekends of late having a brilliant time with our new friends there.

I really haven't had a moment to sit and blog. Until today. I intended to laze around the apartment doing very little apart from grazing through the piles of biccies that mum and dad left for us and play on my x-box.

I was just settling down for my scheduled mid-morning nap when my phone rang. My friend, who lives around the corner, sounded a bit panic-stricken. She was doing a spot of spring cleaning and whilst bending down to pick up some detritus that had gathered in her corners (she's not the most house-proud of ladies...) her back gave out and left her on all fours in her hallway. She had to crawl to her phone to seek assistance. We have a key to her place so we dashed 'round with painkillers and deep-heat in hand. We found her face down, beached on her bed, flailing uselessly for a pillow. I had to stifle a guffaw. She was in pain but in good spirits. Her main concern was that she was wearing her 'cleaning outfit'. On assisting her to manouvre on to her back I realised 'cleaning outfits' apparently don't include a bra. Fortunately, her extremely curvy feminine curves were swathed in a voluminous yellow t-shirt. We made sure she was propped up appropriately and promised to return with a selection of dvd's, food and medical supplies.

On return to our apartment, I sat down with a drink and a book, intending to get through a couple of chapters. I woke up 90 minutes later (some nap!). What a shockingly bad friend! I called her and she had found solace in our other friend who lives a few floors down in her building (we'd left the door on the latch - here's one of the few places left on earth that you can still do that) and they were awaiting their KFC delivery. Yes! KFC deliver here. Mmmm.... chicken. I switched on my x-box for some guilt-free gaming.

Anyway. I must blog more constructively so I'll think about a post over the next day or two, I'll get some pics of the city on here as well. Now, where did I leave my book...

Another Slice of Petra

2009-02-28T09:04:00.010Z

My 40th birthday dawned, bright and clear. The forecast had been for rain but when we peered out of the window it was a sunny day with an amazing blue sky. We raced down to breakfast, then out of the hotel to the gates of the National Park. It was bloody cold! It's strange - living here in the UAE, I haven't experienced cold ears for 6 months.

We walked off down the pathway towards the Siq. It was quite a contrast to the night before. The place was buzzing with Jordanian horsemen galloping up and down, offering rides to The Siq or a donkey to The Treasury. Most of the donkeys were tiny and I felt that if I were to get on one, my feet would drag on the ground. Poor little donkeys. For some reason that I can't explain, I'm a huge donkey fan. Bizarre. They have such a rubbish lot in life don't they? All that toil and burden. Yet they plod on and on with such calm docility, with the occasional bout of cranky, stubborn refusal, but who wouldn't in their situation? Before I move on to the rest of the day I need to make a note about the Jordanian horsemen... Yowsers! Those boys were seriously worth watching for a bit. So we did... Apart from their obvious skill at handling such noble beasts, they were HOT! Maybe it was just the manly and commanding way that they controlled their horses - a lot of them riding bareback - we felt giddy each time one of them romped up to us and offered a ride.

Anyway, after regaining our composure we continued our walk to The Siq. The following were some sights along the way.

This is the entrance to a tomb. There are lots of them carved into the sandstone hills surrounding Petra.

This building really reminds of something from The Flintstones.

This is the entrance to The Siq. It used to have an enormous arch between the two cliffs. It looks fairly unimposing, which was the point. For centuries after the city was abandoned it was kept a secret; Bedouins used to defend it and deter strangers from discovering it.

This is me in The Siq. Some of it has large cobbles, other parts has just sand. It's uneven and at times quite narrow. As you can see, it was almost empty because it's winter.

This is part way along The Siq. It's unusual as it's one of the few tombs in The Siq itself.

At last! The end of The Siq and The Treasury is almost in view.

It's an amazing, magical kind of place. This is only one tiny part of it. The ravine opens up to an enormous vallley surrounded on all sides by cliffs and mountains, all carved with buildings and tombs. Most of them aren't as well preserved as The Treasury but the detail and work in the carving is stunning.

Now that I'm home, it all seems like a dream. It's worth a visit. Do it now before it all turns to dust. Apparently, in summer it's now so popular that it has the same amount of visitors as the Pyramids in Cairo. In winter the place feels like it's all yours. Special.

Cake...with far too many candles

2009-02-24T08:25:00.003Z

Ok. My life has, according to ancient lore, officially started. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about it so I avoided thinking about it until it actually happened. Now that I'm here at this age, the view isn't any different. Phew!

To celebrate my monumental coming of age I decided that, as my friends were all so far away (see previous post), I would sneak off somewhere fabulous to contemplate what being 40 really means. I chose Petra as a perfect spot for such thoughts.

Did I choose right? Well, no, not really. Why? It's just too stunning to have anything else in your head. Really. It's mind-blowing.

Many - oh heck! MANY - years ago whilst watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade I thought "what a cool location - where did they build that?" When I found out it's a real place I was determined that I'd get there eventually.

Last weekend, I packed my hat, my whip and my passport and headed to Amman, Jordan. We arrived in a sandstorm and could hardly see beyond the bonnet of the car that collected us to drive the 2.5 hour journey to Petra. The driver explained that the highway was closed so we'd have to drive a more circuitous route, which would take approx. 4 hours. We both groaned. Not only because a 4 hour car journey with deafening Jordanian music is enough to weaken the toughest resolve but because we (well.. I) had our hearts set on seeing Petra by night - more on this later.

Anyway, the driver zoomed off at terrifying speed through the shifting walls of sand whilst chatting to friends and family on his mobile - heaven only knows how they could hear each other. After 20 minutes of driving we stopped for some better mobile reception and the driver announced that the highway 'might' be open so we'd risk it but take it slow. He slowed down to the snail-like pace of 140kph and we plunged on into the red-brown dust. The driving was worthy of stunt car status and the road unworthy to be called 'road'. However, we pulled up at the hotel at 6pm - two and a half hours before the Petra by Night walk. Hurray! The driver even called ahead to hold some tickets - he had a space between calls.

We checked out the hotel - Arabian, tiles, fountains, lamps, palm trees - and then walked to the entrance of the national park. It was a chilly night, I'd had beer to celebrate our arrival, I needed to pee...

Our guide explained we should walk single file, follow the candles and don't leave the trail ("wish I'd brought my whip" I thought...)

The walk to Petra is a couple of miles long, most of which is through the 'Siq' a large natural ravine cutting through the desert. There were candles set out along the whole route and we walked in silence until we got to the entrance of the ravine, where we were held for a few minutes whilst the guide flashed his torch ahead to another guide to make sure the candles were lit so we could find our way. The ravine is quite narrow in places and the footing uneven. The whiff of donkey poo was quite apparent too - during the day, you can ride a donkey to save your weary legs. There was some very careful walking...

It was so dark as there was no moon so we only had the candlelight to follow. The ravine ends quite abruptly, unexpectedly, and we tumbled out into the opening right in front of The Treasury bathed in a hazy, ghostly glow of candles and mist. I was so excited, it was so beautiful, I felt a bit emotional - what a girl! But really! It literally took my breath away. Entertainingly, the only sound to be heard was a grumpy feral cat that had been disturbed by our arrival. It set up a right din but it all added to the atmosphere.

This picture is the only one that I could get with any detail. It was so dark, I was too excited and my camera obviously wasn't up to the task. You get the idea anyway.

We were invited to sit on reed mats and given mint tea whilst a local Bedouin played his flute, then our guide told us a local folk story. Then it was time to go. I didn't want to. The only thing that made it ok to leave was the knowledge I'd be back the next day, my birthday, to see it in broad daylight. I was also absolutely bursting to pee. The walk back seemed like an eternity. What with dodging donkey dung and walking carefully so I didn't pee my pants! Yowsers.

I'll post about the next day soon as this one is already a bit of a ramble.

Big Cake

2009-02-15T15:46:00.004Z

Hmm... Where to start...? It's all a blur.

OK. The weekend. I got home from work on Thursday evening (weekends here are Friday and Saturday) and TOH was blustering about telling me we had to be ready to leave the apartment at 7.15pm sharp. I was a bit baffled as TOH is the world's most rubbish time-keeper and being hurried along by him was something especially alien to our lives.

Obviously we were late - despite rushing me, he couldn't help but ignore his own advice. I was hustled off to the Emirates Palace - an enormous swanky-as-ya-like hotel on the sea-front and was given a cocktail whilst TOH prattled into his phone to our friend Phil who was running late. Phil is never late. Phil likes booze too much and anything that cuts down on valuable drinking time is against all Phil holds dear. Phil arrived. Without Laura, his wife (also strange as Laura loves booze only a little bit less than Phil). After some extensive and incredibly pointless blathering on from Phil about Laura's tardy arrival my suspicions were tingling - let's call it 'cake-senses'. I needed another drink - it'd been one of those weeks - so I ordered one and then popped off to the gents. On my return Phil had disappeared to 'meet Laura and the girls' and my fresh drink had been snatched away and I was being jostled along away from my seat. Not only were my suspicions aroused but I was getting bloody cranky! All this shoving about and depriving me of a drink was really giving me the arse!

We moved on to another bar (Emirates Palace is enormous and has many). Laura was sat at the bar with Jane and Jess. All of them had nearly finished their drinks. How come? Laura was supposed to have been running late. Hmmm. I asked for a drink and someone offered to get me one. After some polite chit-chat my drink still hadn't arrived. It still hadn't been ordered. I decided to get one myself and was about to hop off my bar stool when some woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I could pass her the cocktail menu. Weirdly, she bore a strong resemblance to my friend Jayne. She was with a woman who looked like my friend Julie. They were smiling at me strangely. It just didn't add up and people were taking photos whilst I stood dazed and confused. It wasn't right. Jayne and Julie live in London. I needed a bit of a sit down whilst everyone guffawed and proclaimed this was the first time they've ever seen me speechless. Jayne gave me her drink. Thank fuck for that!

Next week it's my birthday. It's a significant one. Because most of my friends live a long way away I didn't see any point in having a massive event, so I decided I'd like to go to Petra to see the whole place lit with candlelight on my 40th birthday instead.

TOH agreed and booked it all for me. However, he had other plans for the weekend before my actual birthday and flew some of my friends out to celebrate. How he managed to keep it all a secret is beyond me - his ability to keep secrets is worse than his ability to keep time.

Amazing.

Everyone left this morning. When I got home from work this afternoon it only really dawned on me that my friends have just been here for the weekend and now they're gone. I felt happy and yet really sad. When I moved here I missed them all quite badly. I'd gotten over it but now, after this weekend...

Sand - wich anyone?

2009-02-10T15:28:00.006Z

Yikes. Something wierd must be going on. My second post in less than a week. Unless I'm careful, I could turn into some kind of serial blogger.

I was aimlessly drifting to my car - read being swept along on a gritty, stiff breeze - after work one evening earlier this week and I thought I'd take a few snaps of the view from my office. Well, not actually my office. My office doesn't have any windows and has my team of ten squashed into the space of a Honda Civic. What I mean, is the building in which my office is contained. It was such a lovely evening I simply had to share.

Here you go... go on! Drink it all in and enjoy...

That view! It's a beaut ain't it?! Until a week ago (when the car park was actually finished) that flat bit in front of the sandy hummocks was where I had to park my car. My shoes were buggered.

I know, I know. It makes me emotional to look at it too. Imagine what it's like in reality? Can you possibly imagine? I'll bet you can't.

You can almost smell the cranes can't you? I'm a lucky guy. I get to see this every day. Anyone who wants to come stay is very welcome, but I warn ya... book ahead, it's gonna be soooo busy.

Here's a pic of one of my fave landmarks in Dubai - no, really. I actually do like this one. I didn't at first, but now I kinda like it. Possibly beacause it scares me. It's currently the tallest building in the world. And it's not even finished yet! gulp!

Sooo shiny.

over-indulgence

2009-02-05T21:55:00.008Z

Yikes.

I did it again. But not in a Britney way. Actually, no. That's not entirely true. I gave it some serious Britney, but without the kids and the total minger of an ex-husband. I'm even bald, although that's not a conscious or favourable decision.

This evening I've been out on the razz. Nothing new there. However, this is Abu Dhabi and therefore anything more exciting than the shipping forecast is breaking news, so my evening is worthy of a post.

Granted, I'm slightly frayed by a trying week so I was vulnerable to rose wine, amaretto and then beer. But. This does not explain why I ended up in a nightclub full of sweaty old ex-pats and Filipino trannies and hookers. No-one was more surprised than me! Then again, no-one adpated as quickly as I did plus the band were quite fun. After a few belters of soft-rock I was more than happy to sway on the spot and chuckle at the shenanigans going on around me - desperate blokes trying to persuade hookers with enough cash to say "no thanks" is an interesting thing to observe. Back to that in a min. Let's discuss the band...

A drummer (I'd love to be a drummer), a man wrenching noise from a guitar, a frustrated Iron Maiden wannabe lead singer and five (yes five) unbelievably ropey scrubbers standing about in muffin top trousers and gauzy tops, thrashing nasty hair extensions around with little attention or care for the music. The crowd were enthralled. I was convinced that the booze was spiked. It had to be. Everyone seemed to think the band were good enough to fill Wembley stadium - my beer bottle seemed to be permanently empty. The applause was deafening, the tsunami of love for the band was unfathomable.

It was weird. The band was totally pants. Yet... I kinda liked it. No-one cared. It was one of the ugliest crowds that's possible outside a maximum security psychiatry unit. But still, no-one cared. Everyone was getting on with having a good time/counting how much cash they had left to 'enjoy' the lady with the false leg/attempting to find a beat to dance to.

I literally reek of fags and booze. My life here has made me shift gear. I used to love bars and clubs that had an element of cool. I liked being part of something that was cutting edge, new and ever changing. I guess I still do. Here? Pfft! That kind of lifestyle is 10-15 years away in this city - longer now that the global economic downturn has halted all development. But I've decided to get my fun where I can find it. It's hidden away, it's hard to find but I'm using my best sleuthing techniques to dig it out. I haven't even begun to explain the scene for 'gentlemen' in Dubai... that's a whole other post.

TOH was a hit with the ladies (nothing new there). I'm sure he could have had any number of freebies had he been inclined. I live life in Ugly Betty Corner so even the whores breezed past without a glance (note to self, must try to appear wealthy). It was fun. I enjoyed myself. It's not the kind of evening out I'd choose often, but once in a while it felt good to let loose in a place where no-one cares what you do unless you're paying them to.

Broken cake

2009-01-22T14:03:00.004Z

Well.

Here it is, a brand-spanking, shiny new year. Hold on. Scratch that. It's already slightly tarnished by January.

I realise I haven't posted for near eternity and the cake of my blog is dry, crumbly and seriously undernourished. Bad me! I'd like to say that I shall start afresh and promise to be a much better blogger, but it would be a whopper of a fib and none of the stalwart readers who are still faithful enough to drop in from time to time would believe me. So. I promise that I'll try.

In my post before Christmas I asked for suggestions. I will get to them but thought an update would be a good idea.

I still live in Abu Dhabi. "So what?!" I hear. But since my arrival 5 months ago - can't believe it's been that long already - there have been many times when I have wanted to dump the whole thing and return to London where I felt safe, secure and understood. Now? I feel different. I've moved into a new apartment, I can unpack my things - my pc being one of them - I can feel that I'm at least slightly settled in my own 'home'. I have also realised that Dubai is so close that as soon as I require a weekend of sin and debauchery we just hop in to the car and head to the Vegas of the east (without casinos obviously!).

It's not perfect here. I don't love it, I don't think I ever will but now I guess it's manageable and in times of very crunchy credit I do realise I'm better off here than so many others elsewhere. I even have a man who washes my car every morning so it's super shiny when I whizz out from our parking garage into the dusty streets, getting it all dirty again to make tomorrow's wash worthwhile. I think I may have found my sense of humour, some enthusiasm and a ray of hope whilst digging through boxes of treasures to unpack. Phew.

Now that I have somewhere to live, have access to my stuff and I'm perkier about the place, I'll take some photos and post them soon.

What else...? Work. Hmmm... work is pants. Isn't it always?! This is bad pants though. Awful saggy arsed, chewing gum grey pants with frayed elastic. It's not panning out how I expected. I can't deny that I actually do hate it. But. I promised TOH that I wouldn't get upset about it or complain any more. Every day is so bad that it's just becoming the norm. The other day whilst driving to work I wondered if this is what it's like being bullied. Hating something so much that you just want to drive straight past and pretend it's something that never really existed - or not actually leave home at all. I'm not so delicate as all that though so I'm toughing it out. Fortunately, I'm as stubborn as a grumpy old donkey so I refuse to let it beat me - I hate to lose too.

My plan to lose about 14,000 kilos isn't actually going to plan either but I've eaten salad this week so that's a start! I just need to eat it every day. For about the next 20 years. The gym-on-the-roof is massive and incredibly well stocked with useful machinery and devices - so I'm reliably informed by a muscle-bound, health-freak Abu Dhabi friend. They all look kinda the same to me so I'll need a guided tour and a full orientation day - I'll take a packed lunch and some magazines in case it gets too upsetting. I need to motivate myself. I have one month to begin my transformation, as I shall be hitting a certain age very soon and at this weight I'm liable to take out a few city blocks when that impact occurs. If I trim down a bit I can minimise damage and possibly fit into my clothes to celebrate my life actually starting, as befits folk-lore, and I intend to continue the health plan for all my remaining days. I love a positive plan... pfft.

So. That's me. Is it time for beer?

New on the menu...

2009-01-18T15:07:00.002Z

A man is installing my pc. Right now! Another is building my desk whilst yet another is bolting my chair together. Good times!! None of them are in the least bit attractive, so watching their labours isn't at all entertaining. Bad times.

The outcome of such industry is that I will soon be properly connected to the world. I shall post again. I'll have access to iTunes. The joy!

I'm giddy. No really. Totally giddy. I need a lie down before I hurt myself...

Christmas Cracker

2008-12-18T20:19:00.002Z

I know, I know. It's been a long time since my last post. I'm struggling with doing it lately. I'm busy at work, I'm busy still settling in, I'm busy putting on ever so much weight. I don't know where the time goes. Maybe I could get some extra time in a special box for Christmas that I can plug in when I'm feeling short...?

Right then. Haven't got a clue what to post about as there's been tons of random, mainly uninteresting stuff going on. I could ramble on about it but it would be a waste of eye-energy for you all and would suck up time that you could be using to panic about not having got a present for Aunt Maude or worrying that your experimental stuffing recipe may be received badly.

So. Why don't you tell me what you'd like me to write about? I did this ages and ages ago and it gave me stuff to write about for loads of posts.

Let's face it, from recent performance, it's unlikely I'll get another post in before Christmas so Merry Christmas to anyone who happens to be passing by my blog and a Happy New Year.

*just realised... I could have done a post about my trip to India. Bugger! I've gone and worn myself out now! I'll do a post about it soon.

Peanut Butter & Jam Sandwich

2008-11-25T12:01:00.002Z

Hmmm... Just had one. A peanut butter & jam sandwich, that is. The shops here have all sorts of weird and wonderful things in them from all corners of the globe (apart from nice tea - Liptons is about it... bleeearrgghh...) and whilst meandering the aisles seeking inspiration my gaze settled on a jar of... peanut butter AND jam. In one jar. Who knew!? I was intrigued. I bought a jar. I took to it with a spoon in the kitchen on arrival back at the apartment, frozen food left defrosting and puddling all over the tiles. I was concerned that the jam would be in lumps or blobs at random locations throughout the jar. Not so. There was an even swirl of jam - all the way to the bottom of the jar. I know this because I dug quite a way down. All in the sake of culinary discovery, you understand. Now then. The jar has lasted for about 3 weeks. The past weekend I popped to the local shop (read, Aladdin's cave of assorted spices, dusty boxes of cereal, bizarre brands of aftershave, razors and hilariously branded Indian and Arabic condoms) for some bread. All that was left was milk loaf. I hadn't had milk loaf for years. For those not in the know, milk loaf is very white, uber soft, squashy bread with hardly any crusts. Kids always love it. I threw some peanut butter & jam on it. I nearly exploded with pleasure. The jar is empty, the bread is gone (quite possibly soon followed by my teeth)

sigh....

Other news in brief

I have a cold. Typical. I come all the way to the desert and get a cold. It's 30 bloody degrees outside

Work is pants, causing me to feel like I'm on some kind of sickening rollercoaster. One minute everything's on the up and I feel like laughing my tits off, the next minute it's vile, and I feel like flinging myself from a moving carriage rather than carry on with the journey

It turned out sunny here again

I'm off on holiday next week! I'm going to Kerala in India for some R & R. A bit of a hippy trip will hopefully brighten me up and have me feeling sprightly

It's nearly Christmas and I haven't seen a single bauble yet. It's not really an official holiday here (I'm working Christmas Day) and there is no jolly festive music jingling anywhere. I'm missing yuletide spirit. Harrumph!

I have discovered a new love for potato smiley faces. Is that wrong?

Fruit Salad

2008-11-16T14:02:00.003Z

… it’s what I’ve just had for lunch. My experiments in self-restraint and portion control have been aided today by my fruit salad containing about half a kilo of papaya. Cue retching noises and curled lip expression. I don’t get it, why would anyone like papaya? Then again, I feel pretty much the same about mango. I now have a tin hat on to take the flak from aghast and outraged Australians. Anyone would they they invented the bloody things the way they clank on about them… Hello Australia. You know I think you're lovely.

I’m struggling with the healthy eating thing here but I’m not giving up. Yesterday I signed up to a health club at one of the fancy local hotels, so that I can use the gym. Of course I made full use of my membership immediately by flinging myself on to a sunbed and launching into my book for an afternoon’s seaside reading with my toes dug into the sand. Turned out that the desert had separate ideas and decided to whip up a sandstorm. I was ok on the beach but a little inland, everything was being bullied by super strong, unpleasantly gritty winds. My car was covered in sand and I was filled with gloom at the prospect of having to stop off and have it tickled with dusters for a small eternity before having it washed – prevents the paintwork from being scratched y’see.

Nature had other plans about my car’s well-being, in a good way. I woke up this morning and it was still dark. “strange” thinks I, whilst nibbling at some low fat porridge oats. I looked out of the window (only wearing pants – it was still dark, I felt like dallying with danger) to ponder when the sun would rise and discovered that a heavy bank of cloud had descended over the city. Weird! When I left the building to go to my car a fine mist was drifting about. Weirder! By the time I got to my car, big fat, extremely wet drops of rain were splashing all over the place and I was soaked.

The concept of drainage here is one that hasn’t ever really occurred to anyone so the rain water that was pelting down for an hour lay in enormous lakes all over the roads and made driving treacherous. Drivers here don’t have the first idea of road safety anyway so no-one slowed down to less then 140kph, hence the 4 serious accidents I saw on my journey. It made me feel extremely edgy, attempting to drive safely whilst everyone else threw caution to the wind (and rain) and ended up in ditches, through concrete barriers or rolled onto their sides in smoking, twisted metal disasters – all of which I saw today.

On the up side. On arrival at work, my car was absolutely sparkling!

Irritatingly, my shiny wet car was then exposed to sandy gusts of wind, and by home time had turned from glossy black to dusty beige. Pah!

BUT. My journey home was lifted by “Beat Surrender” by The Jam on the radio and an absolutely corking sunset. I felt positively smiley.

small snack

2008-11-10T14:19:00.003Z

A haiku

Rose gold winter sky.

Desert sunset lifts my heart

and lights a new smile.

Dietary Requirements

2008-11-01T08:29:00.005Z

Right. It's been a while (again) and I promised in my last post that I'd try and highlight some of the positives of living in UAE.

First though, I'll give an update for anyone who's still out there and reading, after the months of misery and moan I've been slamming up here.

The weather has turned out nice again.

Looks like the weather will be turning out nice for the foreseeable future. Well, at least until April time, when it will start to get really hot again but I'll be ready for it then.

Work has taken a surprisingly quirky turn and, for the moment anyway, is slightly enjoyable. I'm not sure how long that'll last but at least I don't feel like I'm fighting every day and failing at every attempt. Someone is finally listening.

I'm adapting. I'm getting used to not having all of my friends around and focusing on the friends I do have here and also on making new ones - and I'm pretty good at that so instead of bleating on about it I'm getting off my arse and actually trying to work something out.

Things have been happening behind the scenes of my UAE life which have made me really think about what I'm doing. It's been a long time since I've taken a lead from my parents and learned something really new about them but they have been able to surprise and inspire me again. I was at home in the UK for a very short weekend last week. The trip was unplanned but necessary and my mum & dad helped me see things in a totally new way. They don't even know they've done anything but the way they've handled a situation that's happening at home has made me proud and given me cause to realise that I can deal with anything that's happening here. I've managed worse and even enjoyed things after. This is no problem.

I feel better now I've given myself a stern talking to. Abu Dhabi needs to step back a bit or I'm going to trample it.

I'm also considering moving to Dubai. The drive to work would take less time - strange, considering I work in Abu Dhabi but city traffic is shocking. The accommodation is cheaper and Dubai has much more choice for a social life as it's a much bigger city with thriving nightlife. Abu Dhabi is only just beginning to establish that aspect of it's new plans for global domination.

The move to Dubai, if it happens, will take a wee while as TOH needs to get to grips with his new job and get himself established before we go charging about the country looking for a new home.

Ok, so what do I like about it here?

Now, the weather.

Chicken and chips kebabs - they are amazing.

I can have everything I could possibly ever need delivered to my door - including chicken and chips kebabs.

It's a very safe place to live. A friend left his wallet on a table in a restaurant and when he realised and returned, the wallet was still there. Untouched.

I really like the sound of call to prayer.

It's tax free!!!!

The TV is rubbish - I'm forced to read more, eat out more and talk more.

The problems with the above are that most of them lead, in some way, to the accumulation of far too much extra padding. I've gained 6k in 2 months. Clothes are tightening and flesh is beginning to spill over the tighter areas of cloth. It's far too upsetting to contemplate. The gym on the top floor is being ignored - if I had to pass it in some way I'd probably get a pang of guilt at the very least but I never go up there now. I've made an appointment to join a health club next week in order to rid myself of the extra pounds, plus a few more. I may also have to limit my kebab intake. That's gonna sting but I've brought this upon myself.

So. That's me. I feel better (but quite a bit fatter). To help improve both of these states I'm now going to the beach to get a bit of a tan. If I'm going to be a bucket of lard, it'll look better golden rather than corpse white.

Sun-dried

2008-10-11T09:04:00.005+01:00

Hmmm...

Where to start. OK. The beginning. After my last post, things started to get better. The weather has started to cool down, I'm getting used to the place and TOH has returned.

I'm not new at work any more and I'm actually beginning to be able to answer questions without having to consult junior members of my team.

I've been to Dubai for a weekend. Dubai is enormous - not by London standards - but the scale of the place makes it seem like a cartoon. The buildings are unreal. We had a great time and I really thought that this part of the world could be a fun place to live. Sipping cocktails on the outdoor terrace at the top of the Jumeirah Beach hotel was fabulous. The hotel is really narrow at the top so it was like drinking booze on a knife edge but I was already a bit tipsy by then, so it wasn't scary, it felt kinda cool. Well, not cool exactly, it was 29 degrees at 12.30am!

Dubai is very different from Abu Dhabi, more sophisticated and more modern. However, it's also full of British and German holiday makers. In a way that's not a bad thing as the place has more of a holiday feel about it, but it also means that you see the worst drunken behaviour that your country-folk can inflict upon a nation. Abu Dhabi is much smaller and quieter and very few tourists come here. It's more of a business destination than a holiday one.

So. Things are getting better. Or, they were...

This last week has been a bad one. My boss has basically been sidelined and demoted, he was told that he has been replaced. I have been invited to a meeting to discuss the merits and value of my role and my team. 6 weeks in and I'm already having to fight for my job. I understand that business is business and decisions of this nature need to be made. But to do this without letting any of the concerned parties know until the day they are actually bumped out is pretty low. I guess that's the way it works here.

I was out walking the other evening - taxis were bustling about everywhere but for some reason, none were willing to stop and people were literally squabbling in the streets over the few that pulled in. The walk gave me time to think (I was walking to a bar, it took 45 minutes, so I felt I deserved the gallons of beer that I ended up guzzling). My conclusions were that no-one actually comes to this city because it's a place where they really want to live. People are here because of the potential to earn so much more than they could at home. Whilst walking I made a small, private plea to the new place where I live - "please just give me one thing to really, really love about living here". For the past six weeks I've been optimistically bullying myself into the belief that I do like living here but my resolve has started to crumble.

I know that almost everyone goes through similar thoughts and feelings in a new place but I'm feeling it quite keenly lately. I hope I'll learn to like and enjoy living here, I'm sure I will but I don't think I'll ever actually love it like I do London, New York, Sydney, Hong Kong... all places with a soul and a feeling of ... I don't know... something! This place doesn't feel like anything. It's just a concrete and glass grid, built where the desert meets the sea.

I'm a positive person. I'm usually optimistic and foolishly believe that things will always turn out right in the end. This is becoming a big test of the way I see things and how I view the world through my rose-tinted specs. Perhaps this is good. It may teach me a new way to see things and that could help me learn to enjoy this place and what it has to offer.

I promise, whatever happens, that my next post will not be doom and gloom. I'll pick out the small things that have actually made me smile here. I have smiled, I'm never that full of woe!

Ramadan

2008-09-21T16:00:00.004+01:00

It's Ramadan where I'm living now. I'm not finding it difficult to cope with (especially as I'm not a muslim and I'm not fasting!). I just need to make sure I don't eat/drink in public. However, the way I'm feeling this week is a kind of social/emotional Ramadan. It's hard for me to sum it up though. I moved here willingly, I actually like it here but I think that everything has finally caught up with me, now, after a month. What have I done?!

TOH is back in UK for a couple of weeks to sort out visa issues and I'm here, in a huge apartment. Alone. I'm finding it difficult. I'm used to having lots of friends around and going out often, socialising, meeting up with the people I like to be with. Now, I go to work, I come home, I eat, read then go to bed, without seeing anyone. I often nip out to the shops for milk or a phone card, just so I can speak to someone in between leaving work and returning to it the next day. The TV here is totally hopeless. I watched the whole of series one of "Heroes" in a few evenings on DVD. I loved it and now I'm whistfully imagining what super power I'd like to have and how I'd use it.

I'm an outgoing, sociable person but I'm finding it tough. The only places to meet others here are either filled with older, sturdier (dare I even say stodgier...?) people or brutish, knuckle dragging sports fans with sweat patches and unnaturally red faces. Neither my kind of scene at all. What to do?

I know that it's just a phase, that I'll adjust and eventually feel settled, but right now I just don't know where, or even if, I fit in.

Buffet

2008-09-06T14:04:00.003+01:00

Ok. Just got back from another buffet brunch. This one was great although a bit unplanned as we'd popped out to the Iranian souk to get some plants, and felt a bit peckish on the way home. It's definitely my last buffet brunch for a while though. Really. I mean it.
The Iranian souk was a bit of a surprise. I was expecting crowded little market walkways with lots of bustle and noise. It was quite the opposite. It's on the edge of the port with sea views, all in one line and hardly anyone there. Admittedly it was 36 degrees C and it's ramadan, which means most stores don't open until after sunset. The Iranian souk (as opposed to a hundred other kinds of souk that there are here) mainly sells plants of the thick, shiny, rubbery leaved variety, with a few ferns and orchids here and there, pots, vases and there is a huge kitchen/tupperware section - who knew Iranians would be so keen on keeping the freshness in?!

I'm loving the sound of call to prayer here. This afternoon I was out on the street, on my way to put a down payment on an apartment, when the call started and the streets were filled with the sound of melodious prayer. It really makes me realise I'm living in a totally different place with a totally different culture.

The apartment I'm moving to has a small rooftop pool and a gym. This is a huge relief (and also cause for slight inner panic) as I need to start getting fit. The aforementioned brunches have led to the addage of quite a few pounds - something that's apparently quite common in new arrivals here. So. Off to the gym I go. I do have some inspiration though, as the trainer who works in the gym is a total hottie. This means I'll be popping upstairs frequently for a bit of eye candy. Just need to remember to actually do some exercise whilst I'm there...

My new job is fine but it's all unfamiliar and alien and I feel uncomfortable not knowing anything - especially as I'm the boss. Hopefully it'll feel better soon and I'll be confident in what I'm doing. Before any of that happens, I need to feel confident in driving to work. The driving and traffic here are absolutely shocking. My drive is out of the city and into the desert. Romantic notions of scenic dunes and mindblowing sunsets were soon shattered when I got out into the rock strewn, blasted landscape of flat desert stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction. Hmmm... The sunsets from the city and the beach are much lovelier.

I still don't have my own lap-top or pc and probably won't have until my stuff is shipped. The new apartment is only a temporary measure until we find somewhere with rent that isn't equal to the GDP of a South American nation. That could take a couple of months and then it'll take another couple of months for my stuff to arrive. Living out of a suitcase is only fun if you're on holiday. Sigh.

Whole Roast Chicken

2008-08-28T18:58:00.002+01:00

OK. I'm here. It's seriously hot, it's seriously humid. My back has been sweaty for 2 days and my ass has been totally drenched for much of the same time! Smoking Loon advised that, in Seoul, he has a similar curse and I thought that, as I'd be living in the desert, I'd just feel a bit flushed. Alas not. Mr Smoking Loon, I feel your (extremely damp) pain!

However, it's only been 2 days, I haven't started work yet, but I think I already really kinda like it. Last night we had a whole roasted chicken for dinner. It was delivered to the door. With chips. And a fab salad (with pomegranite). And falafel. And flatbread. And pickles. It cost us buttons. It was delicious.

This evening we went out for dinner and ate outside. Again I was soaked to the skin with sweat but loved being outdoors in the evening without chattering teeth and the need for some kind of knitwear.

This afternoon we went to the Emirates Palace, an vast 1 billion star hotel (£16,000 per night for a suite). There was a Picasso exhibition, we popped in and it was enormous. The amazing things about it (besides the art itself) were that it was completely free and completely empty! There were about 8 other people there. It was like having a private gallery. Brilliant! I was so thrilled and pleased with the whole afternoon that I had to have a sit down in the luxurious surroundings of the hangar-sized lobby and have a pot of date tea - another cheeky surprise. Who knew that tea made from dates could be so good?!

Tomorrow we're off for brunch at an huge revolving restaurant for as much as we can eat, with champagne included. Something tells me that this place is all about eating and drinking. Good news for a lardy, gluttonous porker like me, bad news for my waistline and health regime. Two things may save me.

Yesterday we perused the huge variety of beach/health clubs on offer. I've decided on my favourite. TOH has a different favourite so we're going to have to sit down and think hard. Whichever we choose, it means I'm going to have to go to the gym and get a personal trainer to haul me into shape. Terror!
I need so many passport-sized photos as everyone requires at least two for everything - work, driving licence, liquor licence, beach club membership... I went to a photo store today (they don't seem to have machines here). The man took a few snaps, asked me how many copies I needed and then set to on photo shop smoothing out my wrinkles, removing dark circles and evening out my skin tone. Even though I say so myself, I look fantastic - I was close to asking him to give me back my hair! The man is a magician! I'm now on a quest to find a surgeon to do what my photographer has done!

I'm full, sleepy and enjoying the glorious feeling of aircon on my skin. I'm off to bed.

Apologies for the lack of pics. I'm using someone else's laptop - my stuff is going to take 7-9 weeks to arrive, including my PC.

Night all.

The cupboards are bare...

2008-08-23T09:24:00.002+01:00

...and so is my house.

Everything is packed up. There are boxes everywhere. My fabulous holiday to Ibiza is now a week old memory and my tan is fading the same way, I still have a tan line to peek at now and again to remind me though.

In 3 days we'll be closing our front door in London for the last time and heading to the airport, never to return to this house. I'm not normally a sentimental person but I've found myself doing odd things this last week. Yesterday whilst drinking a glass of water at the sink I stood watching the trees outside and the wind buffeting the leaves about and then how the resulting shadows played around our kitchen. I'm going to miss trees and the varieties of green that I see all of the time here in the UK - it rains a lot so green is definitely a UK colour. There are only palm trees where I'm going and the colours that dominate are sandy brown, sky blue and the retina-sizzling turquoise of the ocean - not a huge palette but a totally different one to what I'm used to, so I'm looking forward to it.

I've had my last Friday night out here in London.

I've said "au revoir" to most of my friends and yesterday, to my parents which was much sadder than I expected it would be.

I've been in my last tube delay (hopefully) and had to recalculate the resulting circuitous route through the London underground network to get home.

I've thrown most of my coats and jumpers away but I've dithered and still remain undecided about my compact umbrella.

I've been massively stressed that I'll forget to do something important.

I'm ready. I want to go. I'd like to go now. I still have to wait 3 more days. I don't like camels which could be a bit of an issue...

Au Revoir Jambon et Fromage... Ola Jamon y Queso!!

2008-08-08T11:15:00.006+01:00

Erm... at the risk of further incredulous condemnation... I'm going on holiday this evening.

I can already sense the huge dip in air pressure and oxygen levels as much air is sucked through teeth as regular visitors read this revelation. I guess to many it won't come as a surprise. But you all know I love holidays and travel.

I do have a small defence though. Once I start my new job, I won't be able to take any leave for 6 months - in my terms that's almost a holiday eternity.

Anyhoo... I'm catching a late flight from Gatwick tonight and I'll arrive in Ibiza just in time to throw something light and swishy on and hit a groovy bar. Alternatively, I could put something clingy and inappropriate on and hit a club. Mind you, there have been too many pies and too much beer in the last few weeks to be able to get away with 'clingy' so it'll have to be baggy and shapeless - Europe's uber-cool set will just have to poke it!

Apologies again for my useless, infrequent posting but once my life settles into something more controllable, normal service will resume.

I'll return with a tan, more beer belly and possibly, ears filled with party foam.

Actually, that last bit isn't going to happen.

Jambon et Fromage

2008-07-26T14:17:00.006+01:00

OK. It's been a while hasn't it?! Apologies. I've been a busy chap.

Quick summary - I've done tons of stuff but not all of it's worth putting down here.
So...

I left my old job 4 weeks ago. My last day was really sad but also amazing. I was hauled to the company auditorium at the end of the day to be welcomed by loads of people I've worked with over the past 11 years. My boss had organised a video of everyone saying a goodbye message. The video included a montage of some of my work moments (many of which are embarrassing) set to music - it made me sob like a teenage girl! I was too choked to do a speech.
I've been on holiday to Provence - more of this in a bit
I've been planning stuff for my move to Abu Dhabi.
I'm packing, co-ordinating, editing my belongings and filling rubbish bags like there's no tomorrow.
I'm looking forward to my holiday in Ibiza.

Phew!

Provence was amazing. We stayed in a fantastic house and the neighbours were so friendly and welcoming. It was Bastille Day whilst we were there and the neighbours insisted we (all 7 of us) come over to their place for drinks before taking us to a nearby village restaurant for dinner and street celebrations. I deserved to have a hangover that could have wiped out western Europe but strangely I awoke the next morning, after 5 hours sleep, perky as ya like and ready for a dip in the pool followed by a hillock of croissants for breakfast.

Whilst 'en Provence', I think we drank a quarter of the French rose wine stocks - it's super popular there and everyone drinks it with ice! Bizarre, but it works. They also chill their red wine in the fridge. I can feel the tremors as thousands of wine buffs shudder at the thought but they're French, they don't care and they made it anyway. So there.

I'm beginning to feel slightly anxious about my move now. Not actually living in Abu Dhabi but about the move itself. Getting stuff packed and shipped across the world is a pain in the arse, quite frankly. Will it all get there in one piece? Will I ever see it again? Where the heck am I going to live? That's actually quite an important question, and one which can't be answered until I get there. We're staying in a hotel for the first few weeks until my company finds me an apartment. Hope it's by the beach....

!

2008-07-23T21:40:00.002+01:00

Lawks!

It's been an age since I last posted. Huge apologies all. I've been busy leaving work, going on holiday, visiting my parents and beginning to organise my move to Abu Dhabi.

I promise I'll post something real soon!

Here today... Scone tomorrow

2008-06-26T10:00:00.003+01:00

Ok. Tomorrow is my last day with my current employer. After 11 years of unbelievable fun, I'm leaving the world of Virgin Atlantic Airways for a new adventure in a new country, a new job and a new company.

Before I move on with a load of old jibberish, as per usual, I would like to explain what kind of time it's been for me here at Virgin. Think of all the good things you may have heard about Virgin. Times it by ten. Add stuff you probably wouldn't have thought of and then add fabulous travel and glamour. I've never worked in another place where everyone, literally everyone, is chic and trendy - even the company nerds in IT and finance are cutting edge cool. Tomorrow is going to be a really bad day. I'm going to hate it. I'd really like to sneak out and not have to say goodbye to everyone. It may seem mean but I don't think I'm up to it. I reckon I'll be a huge mess.

I have my start date and from 31st August my blog should change to "How Great is Sheikh?".

My new employer is very new, not just to me but to the world. Nearly 5 years old and growing fast, it's finding it's feet in a scary world. My job is going to be a huge challenge but I'll be required to travel extensively (how can I not love that?!) so look out blogging world as I may be appearing, in person, in a city near you.

Thirst

2008-06-20T11:59:00.002+01:00

I’m totally parched. I’m dry as old boards. I feel like I have a mouth full of grit. It’s my own fault for drinking on a school night.

One of my friends who attended the gay rugby in Ireland met someone who works for my new employer. This chap is visiting London on his way home to Sydney and my friend suggested we meet up so I could get some info on my new job/colleagues etc. I anticipated having a couple of drinks and then heading home.

I was soooo wrong. I lurched through the front door of my house in the wee small hours (2am ish) totally hammered after having a brilliant evening.

I’m paying for it today. I only have one week left in this job and I considered calling in sick. I rejected that as my colleagues are great people and I should really enjoy being with them whilst I can so I dragged myself to the tube station and then on the train for my 1.5 hour journey, then on to the bus from the station to my office. It hit me this morning that the journey certainly isn’t something I’ll miss.

Once at work my unbelievable thirst took hold and I’ve been sitting here with a tongue the size of a bath sponge for about 3 hours.

On the up side I used the work fax to send off my newly signed contract for my new career across the other side of the world. Yes readers… I’m leaving my beloved London for the desert (sadly not dessert!) sands of Abu Dhabi. I had no intentions of going to live there until I visited my friend earlier this year but during my visit I realised I quite liked it and that there is a lot of potential there. I applied for a job, without any actual hopes of getting it but, terrifyingly, they flew me back to Abu Dhabi for an interview and offered me the job.

I’ve handed in my notice and I’m having the summer off. I begin my new adventure on the last day of August.

I’m a bit scared. And still thirsty.

Magical, Musical iPod Meme

2008-06-16T12:20:00.003+01:00

Muzbot was the first and then Monty and I hate the idea of being left behind so I've done it too.

Here we go...

Simple rules: Open iTunes, turn on shuffle, press forward for each question and use the song title as the answer.

What does next year have in store for me? “It Just Won’t Do” – Tim Deluxe

What’s my love life like? “Cruising for Bruising” - Basia

What do I say when life gets hard? “Your game” – Will Young

What do I think of on waking up? “2 Million Ways” - C-Mos

What song will I dance to at my wedding? “Let’s Do It Again” – Brand New Heavies

What do I want as a career? “Lil Star” - Kelis

My favorite saying? “I Will Follow You Into The Dark” – Death Cab For Cutie

Favorite place? “Waiting For Time” – Sam Sparro

What do I think of my parents? “Bright Sands” – John Hartley

What’s my porn star name? “Ai No Corrida” – Uniting Nations

Where would I go on a first date? “Why?” – Shiny Grey

Drug of choice? “David” – Gus Gus

Describe myself. “Celos” – Marc Anthony

What is the thing I like doing most? “What’s New Pussycat?” – Tom Jones

What is my state of mind like at the moment? “Glamour Girl” – Louie Austen

How will I die? “Night @ The Black” – Harry”Choo Choo” Romero

Bizarre. I think the thing that sums me up best here is the answer to "Where would I go on a first date?" TOH, my boss and friends all roll their eyes and howl in frustration as I, apparently, have a habit of answering questions with another question. I'm not sure what kind of effects a drug called "David" would have but I might be tempted to have a little lick...

Toast with Marmite

2008-06-11T11:31:00.002+01:00

I love it. I like my marmite (vegemite to those down-under, but saltier) thick like tar.
I’ve just demolished a couple of slices and I’m hankering for more.

It’s been a wee while since I last posted and momentous things have happened. I’ll post about those soon, once I manage to organise my life around said ‘things’. It’s all good stuff though, so I’m rather perky about life at the moment.

Other reasons to be perky.

1. The sun has arrived in London and I’ve worn sunglasses on my way to work for two days running. No biggie to many of you but us Brits have to take our sunshine joy where/when we find it.

2. I was at a birthday party yesterday and met some of the Sydney gay rugby team that are playing in Dublin at the weekend. They were delicious. I’m keen to meet some of the Kings Cross Steelers now (the London team competing in Dublin).

3. I’m off to Rome at the weekend to do some sightseeing, shopping, drinking, eating and generally gawping at Italian people being fabulously Italian.

Last weekend we had some Swedish friends come to stay which was brilliant fun. They are completely honest, open and forthright with their thoughts and opinions. This differs hilariously from the British approach and had me in stitches for much of the time. A conversation about them being in a sauna with naked parents had me crimson with laughter and utter, toe-curling embarrassment as I tried to imagine such things happening in the UK. Looking at London through their ABBA-tinted spectacles was quite refreshing. They were surprised and delighted by so many things here that I now take for granted. It made me feel slightly more proud of the huge, bustling metropolis in which I live.

Right. Need to crack on – much to do.

Cheese

2008-05-27T17:28:00.004+01:00

Saturday night was one of immense cheese. We went to a Eurovision party at a private club in Soho. It was a hoot. Everyone had to represent one of the competing finalists. Names were drawn from a hat so that all was done fairly. I still felt sorry for the poor devils who had to find some way of dressing up to represent Bosnia & Herzegovina and Azerbaijan.

I drew Germany. Fairly easy - or so I thought. Sadly, the only things that I (or anyone else I asked) could come up with were

a) Hitler - not so great from a European diversity point of view
b) Lederhosen - not so great for travelling on the tube and who the hell owns them anyway?

I was a bit stumped really. Then we had the inspiration to see who was actually singing for Germany. They were a bunch of glammed up scrubbers who’d been runners-up in German Idol a few years back. They were called ‘No Angels’, which fitted me perfectly so I donned horns and some bat wings.

The event was brilliant and everyone really made an effort. Sadly, the spirit of true competition has gone out of Eurovision and it’s now just a huge eastern European love-fest with all of the old Soviet block countries voting for each other. However, Ukraine’s entry was absolutely fabulous – a well-sexy chick with a rocking bod and big hair. I’m stunned she didn’t do better. Russia romped home with the gongs and we’re all convinced it was because there was ice-skating involved on stage.

No-one felt like ending on such a dud note (UK came bottom!) so we partied on a little more and then some of us decided to continue, in celebration of the art form that is song. We went to the White Swan in east London. It’s er… well… a gay club for chavs. I’ve never danced so close to so much man-made fibre, the resulting static charge building up in the place was bordering on catastrophic. There was also the usual ‘gentlemens’ club reaction to the music of whipping shirts off and dancing like crazy. I kept fully clothed but marvelled at the full range of tattoos on offer whilst slugging back another few pints of Stella. Yikes…scary yet kinda sexy.

Sushi

2008-05-21T13:14:00.003+01:00

OK. I’m not really a meme person – not because I don’t like them, but because I just don’t seem to get sent them very often. This one concerns a subject close to my heart – books.

1. Pick up the nearest book.

2. Open to page 123.

3. Locate the fifth sentence.

4. Post the next three sentences on your blog and in so doing...

5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged me.

“In the afternoon of the day before I was scheduled to leave Switzerland, Karl came sneaking around, knowing that my father would be at the factory. He pressed his lips against mine in a long kiss, right there in my room with my teddy bears and dolls.
“I’m sad I won’t be able to see you any more, Yuriko. Won’t you stay? For me?” Karl’s eyes were burning – and also calm. There could be little doubt that my departure and my mother’s death freed him from any regret or guilt he may have felt.”

This is from Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino. It’s set in Japan and involves lots of death and subversion amongst Tokyo prostitutes. As you can probably imagine it’s a cheery and sunny novel… I’m only part way through it at the moment – it’s fairly grisly. Do I like it? Not sure yet. I'll let you all know.

Thanks to BuffaloVoid for this and I’m tagging the following:

::Monty::Matterdays::Scott In Iowa::Smoking Loon::Canberra Biker::

Achin’ for Bacon

2008-05-02T12:42:00.003+01:00

In a random sidetrack ramble away from cake, I feel the need to discuss how I’ve neglected to mention a very important part of my life. Cake, we all know, is a joy to behold and should be indulged at every available opportunity. However, I’ve never discussed my extreme passion for bacon.

Why is it so good?

I’ve been spurred into this post by my Friday breakfast. After polishing off my bacon muffin with brown sauce, I sat in a blissed out trance for a few minutes until my pork-product high wore off. Colleagues commented on my glassy-eyed coma, finding it highly entertaining. Sometimes, like on hangover days, only bacon will do. It has some kind of magical properties and there’s nothing better than sitting back, fully satiated on bacon, your chin shining with grease, to slurp on a cup of strong tea and let the over-exertions of the night before ebb away.

TOH likes his bacon really crispy. When it’s cooked TOH-style it shatters into a billion piggy crumbs when you bite into it. I prefer mine to be lightly cooked, so it’s still super meaty.

I think I must have some kind of pork problem. I also love party food, which often contains porcine ingredients – sausage rolls for example. Pork pies are highly desirable objects at a party for me and I can cram handfuls of mini sausages into my face at every visit to the buffet.

I wish I liked healthy stuff. Things would be so much easier if I were addicted to cress.

Lick

2008-04-23T17:17:00.002+01:00

..er .. ish.

Houstonmacbro asked if I like it. Whilst it’s not an emotion or a feeling, he’s quite right when he says you either like it or hate it.

It makes me gag. It’s kind of sweet and perfumey but harsh and sour at the same time. I don’t like aniseed either. Pernod, Ouzo and associated flavours really do have my tongue hanging out and begging for mercy. Weirdly, I can remember giving liquorice to our dog. He nearly bit my hand off and loved me intensely for ages after, well, for as long as my sticky, 12 year-old fingers stilled smelled of the stuff. Even now, sitting here merely considering the taste of it has made my mouth water unpleasantly and given me shudders. My mum loves the stuff though.

Now, on to Monty’s suggestion… love.

Love is a cupboard full of cake and a boyfriend that rubs my back until I fall asleep.
That’s pretty much it on the love front.

Ok. That probably seems like selling out. I’ll furnish with a bit more detail. TOH and I had our first date nearly 11 years ago. We met at Browns in Covent Garden for a drink. After about 2 drinks I remember excusing myself and dashing off to the gents’. Once there I looked in the mirror and gave myself a mental slap and a good talking to. I wanted to make sure not to ruin it all by acting like a buffoon because “I really like this one!”
We went to Pizza Express for dinner and nibbled daintily on thin crusts, avoiding all areas of garlic in private anticipation of potential action later on. He told me he liked my aftershave so from then on I gave him ample opportunity to breath me in (I was wearing Issey Miyake – can’t bear it now as I got hammered one night whilst wearing it and the smell still reminds me of room spin). From that night on we’ve been pretty much constantly together. We were wise to have avoided the garlic…

Now then! Enough girly old tat. What next? I’m out of suggestions from everyone. I’ll have to start thinking of my own ideas again.

Note to self… think hard for next post.

Feeling Fridayish

2008-04-18T12:47:00.004+01:00

OK. Here we go with some more suggestions from you, my dear, valued reader(s).

Matterdays threw into the hat the feeling of “inadequacy”. Hmmm. Cheers for that.
Hopefully, Matterdays won’t be feeling the same way any more and his recent days have been filled with stellar, unparalleled success.

Right then. Inadequacy. Er.

It’s always nice to start with a little definition, so from YourDictionary.com…

inadequacy Definition

in·ad·equa·cy

noun pl. -·cies
quality, state, or instance of being inadequate

inadequacy Synonyms

inadequacy
n.
1. Inferiority
ineptitude, incompetence, insufficiency; see inability, lack 1.
2. A defect
flaw, drawback, shortcoming, deficiency; see defect 2, lack 2.

Gosh. Not sure I could live up to a post that would explain all of that…

Personally, I don’t think I feel inadequate that often. I’m usually pretty confident about most stuff and if I’m not confident I’ll bluff it or fly by the seat of my pants – actually, I’ve flown by the seat of my pants so often that I should have frequent flier miles.

One thing that I do think I suffer from though, in a very low wattage sense, is Impostor Syndrome. All of the roles I’ve had in my working career have been unplanned and I’ve simply been in the right place at the right time, and I’ve just kind of… well, fallen into them, really. I reckon I’m probably fairly good at what I do but when I think of where to go from here, I feel a bit trapped. I didn’t plan any of this at all. If I’d have stuck to my plan 21 years ago I’d have gone to art college and would either be enjoying a glorious life of celebrity weirdness or eeking out a living of deprived poverty and starvation instead.

How did this all happen? Pfft! Haven't a clue. I put it all down to chance (and a bit of luck that I found something that I can kinda do - who knew!) However, I do feel like a bit of a phoney when people seek my advice. It also freaks me out when people actually take my advice and act upon it.

Despite 5 years at university and quite a few years of experience, I still don’t understand why anyone would listen to what I have to say at work, let alone believe me.

I think it’s holding me back. I need to recalibrate somehow. I also need to decide what I want and aim for it rather than sitting here in dazed confusion. Stupidly, my job is to recruit and help others decide what they want – yet I can’t seem to apply my own know-how to myself.

Apparently, Impostor Syndrome is more common in successful women. Heck! Does this mean that I’m a bit of a girl? Don’t answer that.

But then... even if I were a bit of a girl, I wouldn't think of myself as successful anyway...

Waaah! Headache!

Feeling Emotional..? #2

2008-04-10T17:17:00.004+01:00

Being the cheeky imp that he is, Muzbot suggested that I write about ‘lust’ when I requested ideas for posts.

The tricky thing about lust, is that it’s hard to twist the definition to avoid any discussion about sex.

Here are the definitions…

1. Pleasure.
2. Inclination; desire.
3. Licentious craving; sexual appetite.
4. To have an eager, passionate, and especially an inordinate or sinful desire, as for the gratification of the sexual appetite.

Er… My blog has never been about sex. I’ve never discussed it (apart from the odd thought about attractive gentlemen).
Clever you, Muzbot!

One thing that has always occurred to me about lust, is that when you’re feeling full to the brim with lust, it’s like being drunk. It seems to cloud your judgement and makes it nigh on impossible to stay rational and use any common sense.

I suppose that could be the reason that many people wake up the next morning next to someone who looks like they have been hastily sewn together, but don’t understand how it could have happened as they “only had one beer!”. Excess lust! That’s how!

It’s been a while since I’ve let my lust loose on the open market, but has anyone noticed that as an evening dwindles on, and the more time you take to find an object upon which to bestow your lust, the less choosy you get? For me, I think it was that all of the lookers snapped each other up early on, leaving the less desirables scratching around for left-overs. When there’s a very shallow pool of potential, you don’t need to put your snorkel on to see what’s left, but sometimes you just don’t want to go home with an empty net…

I’m enjoying the “sinful desire” part of the above definition. I have lots of those. I’m not discussing them here :¬)

I do have a lust for life. I have a lust for food. I also have a lust for booze – personal lustworthy favourites are vodka (with tonic), beer (cold) and wine (white, dry - but nothing that will make my gums curl up. Know what I mean?)

As most people who read my blog read Muzbot’s, I think we can also pretty much agree that he is an 'objet de luste' for us all too.

Another big lust for me is travel – I simply can’t get enough.
And finally, of course… TOH.

Food for Thought

2008-04-07T13:56:00.003+01:00

OK. A couple of posts back, I asked for suggestions. I asked for an emotion or a feeling. I received a few responses. I'll tackle the first one today.

Here we go.

Mike had never left a comment on my blog before so it was a cheeky surprise. He naughtily suggested ‘schadenfreude’ and then more kindly changed to ‘eagerness’.
In a weird twist, Mike’s suggestion highlights an unsuggested emotion that I’m often tussling with. I’m competitive and hate being outdone. If anyone throws down a gauntlet, I’m usually tempted to pick it up (and then secretly try it on – a boy can’t have too many gloves…!)

My first instinct… No. Scratch that. My first actions upon reading ‘schadenfreude’, even though said in jest, were to seek a decent enough definition so that I could begin to write a response.

Here’s a definition “the enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others”. I don’t actually enjoy others’ troubles but I admit that I’ve often found it difficult to suppress a loud hoot of laughter when I’ve seen someone take a tumble on slippery ground after windmilling their arms about for a few seconds in helpless freefall. Yesterday I also realised that I experienced a small, very secret and cruel moment of glee whilst the bus I was on whizzed past a bus stop, leaving grumpy commuters huffing and gesturing as we sped on.

Another definition is “shameful pleasure”. Oh Lord! I’ve got billions of those…

Anyway. On to Mike’s other suggestion. “Eagerness”.

Hmmmm. I had to give this a bit of thought as I wasn’t sure if I’m an eager person or not. I’m always eager to go on holiday and each day, at work, I spend most of the minutes between 11.30am and 12.15pm eagerly looking forward to lunch. I usually have lunch at around about the same time each day, so my whole being is quivering in anticipation to scamper off to the staff restaurant once the morning draws to a close.

I guess I am an eager person. If it’s something I want or like then I look forward to it, I reckon that’s only natural. I am easily excited by stuff, though and if it seems like a fun idea, I’m very easily distracted. I think it’s because I get joy from small things, I often find little inconsequential moments highly entertaining or fascinating. My mind is full of lots of little details and memories of things I’ve seen and done – all tiny and unimportant to all but me. I remember about 3 years ago being so thrilled that I’d skimmed a stone across the shallow water on a beach in Cape Cod and it bounced about 6 or 7 times – it was like being 5 years old again. I was amazed and I can clearly remember so much of the detail, the light of the sun, the colour of the sand, the sound and smell of the sea. There was no-one nearby to tell, I kept it to myself, until now.

Actually, none of that is anything to do with eagerness. Er… it was all a bit of a ramble. Sorry. Anyway, thanks for throwing me into random pandemonium Mike. It’s a shame I didn’t know when you were in the UK on your travels, as I would have tried to steal your dog - I want him.

A Date with Arabian Coffee...

2008-03-27T13:20:00.002Z

...is the first thing I was offered on taking my seat when I boarded my flight to Abu Dhabi. Did I mention I was going on a little holiday? Hmmm... maybe not. Regular readers would only have given me hard time anyway as, apparently, I'm always on vacation.

TOH and I are here to visit my super good friend Jane. We've known each other for years and she's living here so I thought it was time for a stop-over. I'm currently sitting in the living room of her flat, looking out over Lulu Island and on to the Arabian Sea, the sun is setting and we're preparing to go out for the evening to the Emirates Palace Hotel, which is ludicrously massive but supposedly amazing. I'm also using Jane's MacBook, which I'm finding a bit baffling but generally ok, although I can't see what the huge fuss is all about - it's like any other computer really. I feel I may come in for a huge deluge of criticism for my last comment but computers aren't at the top of my list for cool gadgetry. I love lots of techie stuff but lap-tops etc just don't push my buttons. Sorry Mac lovers - let me know how I can make it up to you all and I'll do my best.

Anyway, back to my flight. It was fine. TOH and I treated ourselves and used miles to fly in First Class. I'm lucky to have flown in Business Class lots of times as I work for an airline but it doesn't have a First Class Service, so this is a fun experience. Mind you, I think I'd still travel in the Business Class of my airline, as I think it's better than BA First and better value for money. Ok. Yesterday's flight (sorry). Sitting across the aisle from me was an attractive Arab guy, trendy clothes, kinda cool manner. The cabin crew from other cabins kept cruising through and then back beyond the curtain to get a good look at this guy. He was fairly hot but I have seen better. My conclusion was that he's some kind of Arab nobility, although they normally travel with a retinue of thousands and have flunkies to perform at a mere hand-clap. Maybe he was travelling incognito. I was fascinated by him for large parts of the flight - even when he was asleep, especially when his shirt rode up and displayed his particularly well toned and hairy stomach...

It's bloody hot here. 38 degrees today. I felt as if the sun were beating me into the pavement. It made me a little bad-tempered - poor TOH, he dealt with it (and me) in his usual calm and accepting way.

Thanks to those of you who took part in helping me with ideas for future posts. I'll use them all, I promise. Anyone reading that wants to offer an idea, please feel free.

Right. I need to nip off now, as I have considerable amounts of body husbandry to do before I'll be halfway acceptable at a swanky establishment. My turn for the shower.

Dry as a Bone

2008-03-19T14:24:00.002Z

OK. I’m all out of stuff to write about at the moment – I’ve hit a blog desert and I’m hoping my reader(s) will lead me to a lush and tropical writing oasis. I’ve done this before and it seemed to work fairly well. I’m offering you the chance to decide what I should put digit to keyboard about.

Last time I asked for just one word. This time I’m asking for an emotion or a feeling.

I’ll respond and blog about all suggestions – providing they’re appropriate for a clean-living chap like me!

The lines are now open but please remember to ask permission from whoever pays the bills. You’re also reminded that once the lines have closed, if you contribute you may still be charged…

Afternoon Tea

2008-03-12T16:48:00.001Z

I’m having a bit of a hot drink quandary. I used to have a cheeky little latte of an afternoon to give me a jolt of caffeine perkiness, which would get me to the end of the day. Then, I got bored of coffee. I switched to tea. I love a nice drop of splosh, so I was fine for afternoon refreshment for a time.

Now? I’m bored of tea. What to do? I drink water all day so I want something different. I don’t like fizzy drinks and juice doesn’t hit the spot. What’s left? Hot chocolate? I prefer my chocolate all over a biscuit rather than in a drink. Hmmm.

I’m feeling odd today. It may be because I went drinking with fellow (now lapsed) bloggers, CuteCTguy and Guy In London. They are such a dreadful influence and encourage me to consume far too much booze and behave dreadfully. Normally I’m the very soul of abstinence and as I’m sure everyone’s aware, I hardly ever touch a drop but last night I think I may have fallen from grace. I don’t actually feel over-hung, just a little displaced. It’s like I’m looking through someone else’s eyes today and my thoughts feel like they are being processed a long way away and then transported on grumpy, stubborn donkey to my limbs, which then lumber slowly into action. It took forever to brush my teeth this morning but I was so dull-witted to realise that I’d been buzzing away at my gums for ages. It was only when I dribbled toothpaste foam (now extra frothy thanks to the extended attention to my teeth) down my chin and chest that I came to my senses and prompted myself into further morning activities.

The day has been a bit of a blur though. Lots of work done and lots of people seen. I’m ready for a big sit down and a cup of… oh. A cup of what though? Bugger!

Chicken Curry Soup and Sticky Digits

2008-03-03T17:15:00.003Z

I know what you’re thinking… I thought the same.

I’m a game kind of chap so I thought I’d try this mysterious and unusual soup. It made my lips sting. The end.

I feel cheated by lunch today because I had this stupid soup. I don’t feel hungry but I do feel that I missed out on lunch, as I didn’t enjoy what I had.

I’ll get over it I guess.

OK. What’s new? Nothing really. Had a great weekend though. Had dinner with some friends in Brixton on Friday. Had a few beers with a few lovely friends on Saturday (they’re all Australian weirdly!). We met them at a bar in Islington and when TOH and I arrived, the door bitch (a new twist for this venue…) declared it was £3 entrance but the first drink would be free. She then thwacked a sticker with a number printed on it, across my chest and shunted me inside. I grilled Malcolm (my friend) who ummed and aahed a bit before blurting out that he didn’t realise it was a singles night. I insisted he wear my sticker so that he would have double the opportunity to score with the gent of his dreams. TOH swept off to the bar for our ‘free’ drinks which all turned out to be £3 anyway so the entrance fee was the same price as a drink. It was a fun night, which also turned out to be educational, although slightly sticky fingered. An American friend of Malcolm’s (can’t remember his name so from here on in he’ll be called Chip) explained that I was drinking my Corona all wrong. I was a bit perplexed, as I only know how to drink it orally and expressed this concern. Chip then demonstrated the Chicago method for ensuring that one’s Corona is fully limed. After stuffing my thumb in my bottle, gently tipping it upside down until the lime had floated to the top (or bottom) of my bottle and then back, I was instructed to very slowly remove my thumb. Obviously I was gasping of thirst by this point, it had been about 3 minutes since my last swig, so I was a bit over eager with disengaging my thumb, hence a sticky wrist which tasted of lime for pretty much the rest of the weekend.

Sunday TOH and I went to Wapping Food Project, a restaurant converted from a hydroelectric power station, to have lunch with a group of friends. It’s a seriously cool place. All of the tables have been placed in and around the machinery and it’s groovy in an industrial way. The food is amazing too. It's especially good at night as the lighting is amazing and there are candles all over the massive old machinery. There's also a brilliant art space attached which has some wierd and wonderful exhibitions.

So that’s me. Not much new to report. Still in the same place with the same thoughts about being elsewhere but I’m working on that.

Small Buffet

2008-02-17T12:26:00.010Z

I promised I'd blog this weekend so here it is...

It's going to be fairly random as I don't have that much to include really.

On Friday I went to a "Traffic Light Party" hosted by the blogger formerly known as CuteCTguy. It was a hoot! Everyone had to wear something red, yellow or green to reflect their relationship status and take along a single person. I had a whole disaster to begin with as all my single friends were busy on Valentines dates that evening and TOH was unwell so I went alone, dressed accordingly (black with red accents if you're interested). Apparently there were some successful matches of those in green or yellow so the evening was a success!

Yesterday I had a serious cake fever about me so I set to and threw together some Portugese custard tarts. They were barely out of the oven before TOH, declaring his ill health (shocking case of 'man-flu') as full and vaid reason to permit him to demolish as many of them as humanly possible. There was some light wrestling and tussling as I cast him from the kitchen until they'd cooled. I went out last night with some friends, leaving him home alone, now there are only 3 left but it's looking like they may not last the day...

Last weekend we were in Brighton. It's the first time this year we've been and it was good to get some sea air. The weather was gloriously spring-like so I took a few snaps of my street. The first one from our doorstep...

This one as I walked down our street to meet TOH for a coffee (he'd gone ahead as I was faffing about).

The walk back home was chilly but the amazing sunset behind the ruined pier was spectacular - sadly the pic doesn't really do it justice, I shall blame this on my phone camera, obviously.

Bad!

2008-02-15T11:38:00.004Z

I've been a bad blogger. I know. I shall read 100 spam emails, do 50 Facebook pokes and 25 spell checks as penance.

I've cheered up a bit since my last post. Absolutely none of the plans I've had have been put into action, I still have the same job and I still miss sunny blue skies and breezy weather (Sydney's in particular). I think I just got bored of being glum - it's not my natural default.

I'll blog over the weekend. Honest.

Steam

2008-01-21T13:34:00.000Z

…I think I’ve run out of it.

I need inspiration. I’m dealing with feelings of super itchy feet at work and in life. TOH and I are thinking about what to do with ourselves. I haven’t a clue really. There is a potential plan but it depends on other stuff. The other stuff would be good if that were to happen and if not, then plan B would be cool too. All in all, I’m feeling unsettled, a bit trapped by circumstance and that I’ve tons of potential (not exactly sure what kind it is but I’m sure it’s there somewhere) that I’m not using.

Harrumph. It’s also making blogging difficult as I’m out of sorts and really unsure what to blog about. There’s always cake of course but I haven’t had any good cake for a while either. I’m in a bit of a blog desert (as opposed to my usual dessert), the nearest oasis isn’t even on my map, my tent is in tatters and my camel is getting moodier by the minute.

On Friday we went to see Swimming With Sharks, the play currently starring Christian Slater. It’s pretty good and Mr Slater was fine – I reckon he’d be pretty much able to turn his hand to most things on the stage really.
Yesterday my friend Malcolm and I went to watch the Dancing on Ice TV show being filmed. It was actually great fun; the fun element was enhanced by being able to have drinks in the bar afterwards with the skaters and the celebs. Malcolm is a good friend of one of the skating professionals (hence us being able to watch it being filmed). It was worth it for the free doughnut! It was hilariously cheesey but I now have a new respect for the poor celebrities shoved onto the ice like a troop of sequin/feather covered bambis. We were so close to the edge of the rink we could see the look of terror on their faces as they wobbled geriatrically around the ice, live on national TV. Horrendous pressure! Made my work/life indecision seem paltry.

Today, it’s grey and wet (yet again), I got on the train for my 1.5 hour journey to work and I just didn’t want to get off at my stop. I wanted to stay on it and see where it took me.

What to do?

Thoughts…?

Is home where your heart is…?

2008-01-10T12:17:00.000Z

Hmmm… not sure. I love living in London but I really, REALLY miss being in Sydney. It’s made me so blue. I have moped about a fair bit since returning and work is too pants for words.

I went to the dentist this morning, which cheered me up a bit. Weird? Maybe, but none of you have seen my dentist. He is HOT! And he’s gay. Sadly his bf works at the same surgery but it really helps to have a sexy dentist. Is that wrong? To massively fancy your medical professional? I can’t help it. I think I might be a bit obsessed.

A quick summary of my trip to Sydney then…

Sunshine
Beach
Beer
Aren’t the men there just divine?!
Lovely bloggers – Monty and Muzbot were fabulous and I had a great day boozing it up with them – sadly I was only able to do it once.
Copacabana Beach
Swimming
Beer
Amazing food
New Years Eve fireworks
Did I mention beer?
My amazing, brilliant friends G & J
Dancing until 8am, 2nd Jan

Sigh. What to do? I’m not the happiest of chaps right now. I need something to cheer me up. Any suggestions? Nothing rude.

Actually, rude may cheer me up immensely, provided it’s creative! :¬)

Sorrow

2008-01-04T22:35:00.000Z

Today is my last day in Sydney...
I leave tomorrow and I really don't want to. It's been amazing and I've realised that I'm not over Sydney at all. I'm already feeling sad and I still have one full day left.
I've met some great new people here and others I've known/met before. Each and every one of them has made my trip that little bit more special - some read my blog now and again too... thank you!

I'm off for breakfast now with a heavy heart.

Travel Sweets

2007-12-17T15:33:00.000Z

Does anyone remember these? Tins of hard-boiled sweets covered in a huge drift of dusty looking icing sugar. I think you can still buy them in some forgotten shops in eerie backwaters of the country. They were so hard that when you managed to eventually break them (rather than your teeth) they shattered into vicious shards that would slice and tear at the insides of your mouth.

Hmmm…

Anyway. Travel sweets may well be required. I’ll need something substantial to suck on in a few days, as I’ll be idle for 22 hours from Wednesday evening.

I have a good book, I have an iPod, I have lots of thinky stuff to do. There may be films and there will hopefully be booze to keep me occupied. With any luck there will also be some attractive gentlemen to look at whilst they service me, however in past experience there are usually lots of sturdy, older ladies with formidable bosoms and mouths like dog’s bum’s smeared in lippy instead. I am, of course, referring to my flight to Sydney!! Yay! At last it’s within sight. I’m beside myself with excitement. The fact that it’s been raining and grey there for the past week or so hasn’t dampened my spirits. The friends that we’re staying with are a little disappointed on our behalf with the forecast, but I don’t care. It’ll be great to be in Sydney again and to spend time with them as they are just brilliant and I can’t wait. I can’t wait. Did I mention I can’t wait?!

This will probably be my last post before departure. I’m not sure I’ll get to post again until I return. I’ll do my best but can’t promise.
Just in case I don’t get to do post again until 2008…

Merry Christmas and a Happy & peaceful New Year to you all.

To those who read or comment often, thank you, I feel honoured that you take the time to read my ramblings and make the effort to comment from places all over the globe, I can guarantee that each and every one of you has made me smile at some point this year. To those who may have happened here by accident or by chance, season’s greetings to you, please call in again and leave me a message so I can return the visit.

Tagged

2007-12-11T10:25:00.000Z

Ooh! Completely new to me - I've been tagged to do this by T$ - why thanks!

Here goes...

1. When you were born, how much did you weigh? Not very much at all. I was tiny and jaundiced, so at least I looked like I had a tan. For a while, when I returned to the hospital for checks etc I was mistaken for a new born baby all of the time and only given smaller amounts of food - which even then made me a wee bit cranky!

2. What's you're sugar poison? Obvious innit?! Cake

3. If you had to choose between meat and cheese for the rest of your life, which would you choose? Then be specific. Hmmm... I'm really not a fan of cheese. It's pants. Especially if it's got lots of blue veins in it. urgh. Meat? Well, has to be sausages. I think they are divine and the 3 Kings should have arrived manger-side armed with a string of Lincolnshires instead of myrrh.

4. What, is your opinion, is the worst song ever? Not sure if they're the worst songs ever but... I just don't get Mika's stuff. They're such irritating prattle.

5. Who was your favorite teacher growing up and why? Miss Barker from 6th form English Lit. She was great, behaved like she was our friend, invited us all over to her house for dinner just before Christmas and was generally cool. How could 17 year olds not love that? Even gay ones!

6. What personal activity, when performed in public, bothers you the most? I can't bear spitting. It's just so deeply unpleasant and antisocial.

7. Ok, there's a $50 bill lying on the ground. You pick it up. Dumbfounded by your incredible luck, what do you selfishly purchase? See answer #2. I'd probably have my ill-gotten cake with booze. Or sausage butties. With HP sauce. Hunger crisis....!

8. Do you have a recurring nightmare? It's not a nightmare but I used to have it often when in my 20's and lately it's returned. I dream that I am, or I'm turning into, a vampire. It's not scary, I don't get upset by it as it's fascinating at the time - I can feel my teeth straining through my gums and my throat getting dry. A dream dictionary advises seeking help or counselling... outrageous cheek!

9. Name one place on Earth you've never been, but vow to visit at least once. South America. Anywhere there that's historic or of particular importance - Galapagos Islands, Machu Picchu, The Amazon Basin... ooh so much stuff there to see.

10. You notice that question #9 wasn't really a question. You feel smart for catching such a small detail. What else can you do really well that reminds you how smart you are? Hmmm... doesn't remind me how smart I am but my memory spooks me sometimes. My friends say I have a freakish memory. I can remember what we had for dinner in Key West in 2003, What TOH was wearing when I met him, the names of my whole class alphabetically from when I was 7, those kinds of things.

What do I do with this now? Am I supposed to pass it on?

Advent Calendar (with chocolate)

2007-12-05T22:57:00.000Z

I'm having my own kind of advent calendar this year. Days until departure for Sydney. I now have 2 weeks left. 14 days. In fact, less than that now, this time in two weeks I shall be on a plane heading to the other side of the world. I can't wait.

It's been about five years since I was last in Sydney. When I was last there, I really felt that I'd missed it from when I was backpacking and living there. At that time I still really wanted to live in Sydney and TOH was also keen, meeting up with companies in the hopes of securing employment. Time has moved on, so have I and I don't think I want to live there now - it's so far away from my friends and now ageing family. However, I'm not sure I'll feel the same when I land and remember, truly remember how much I love it.

As my travelling diaries had some success a few months ago, I'm going to post my diary entry from the day I arrived in Sydney for the very first time 14 years ago.

Here goes...

"I've had a mixed day. It has swung from excitement to complete disappointment and then elation. I'm so bloody tired!

I didn't get much sleep on the bus as it was cold and stopped everywhere. Some of the places we stopped in, I had really wanted to visit but since Jane and I left the others, our main aim has been to get to Sydney to find work. My money has run really low thanks to Surfer's and Byron Bay and I'll need work pretty quick in order to stay for any length of time. No word from Steve or Nick since we left them. I'm not upset or bothered. That confuses me a bit as we were all such good friends and I feel nothing about not speaking to them again. I thought I would.

I was wide awake for most of the night but at the time I didn't mind as I was so eager to see Sydney. As we drove I got more and more excited, I woke Jane up when I started to see the signs indicating Sydney was close (by close, I mean close in Australian standards i.e. less than one light year away). As the day broke we were very near, by 7am we were crossing the harbour bridge on a grey, dull and wet morning. Jane and I looked out of the window and I felt cheated. It wasn't what I expected. It wasn't beautiful, it wasn't breathtaking, everything just gunmetal grey, the water looked grey, the sky looked grey, the city looked grey, even the Opera House looked grey and was made even worse by cheery coloured sections that had been added for the now successful Olympic bid.

We got off the bus and headed to a hostel that Neil from Byron Bay had recommended. At the time I wished we'd stayed in Byron. We were so tired that we went to sleep, we didn't speak a great deal, it turned out that Jane was feeling much the same as me.

I woke up at about 11.30am. I was so thirsty. I got up and roused Jane. I met her in the bar of our hostel - it's a bit rough around the edges but everyone is friendly and welcoming which lifted my spirits a little. We decided we'd walk into the city for a look around - we both felt determined to find something that would make us happier. We walked from the hostel past Central Station, I was surprised to see a Liverpool Street here - I felt the name should have made me perkier but, as the rain was still falling, I was having trouble with my soggy mood. It was a decent walk and as we reached the centre the rain eased off, giving us some relief and then the sun came out so we started to get hot. We agreed to press on to the harbour so that we could say that at least we'd given it a try, despite our earlier impressions. As we neared the harbour we could see the sun shining on the water, then the street opened out and we were there. The sun was blazing down, the water an amazing green and the Opera House terrifyingly white, harsh but still astonishingly beautiful. I actually laughed out loud. I couldn't believe it. I was here in Sydney gazing at the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. It's astounding. I don't understand how I could have been so mistaken. It's only been one day and already I don't think I want to leave. I HAVE GOT to find a job here so I can use my working visa to stay as long as possible.

Jane and I celebrated with beers at a bar on the harbour and then walked back to our hostel in much higher spirits. We then celebrated again in the bar this evening and made some new friends, Jane even managed to secure herself a job as a barwoman here - I don't know how she bloody manages it. I reckon it's because of her enormous yet impressive chest. It seems to have magical properties and charms all males within a mile radius. Still, at least one of us has a job and we can sub each other if needs be. The couple that are running the hostel have recommended a few agencies which they say were great at putting work their way so I'll give them a go tomorrow. If not, I'll see what I can do to get a cleavage like Jane's to boost my job possibilities.

I'm now in my bunk writing this. My dorm has 2 sets of bunk beds and I'm on the bottom of one set. Above me is a guy from Warwick - he seems nice enough, his nickname is Sharky as he's a bit of a ladies' man apparently. Opposite is Barry, an older guy who used to be a jockey. He's been here ages and the folks in the bar say he's great when you need a tip for the bookies. He scares me a bit tho. Above opposite is a Canadian called Matt who arrived later today. He seems really nice, quiet but friendly.

It's quiet in here and I'm feeling so happy. It's a bit like Christmas. I really want to sleep so I can get up tomorrow and explore but I'm too excited about being here to sleep."

I had such a great time at that hostel before moving out to Coogee Beach. Matt became a good friend and we're still in touch. I had an enormous crush on him whilst in Sydney, pleasingly that's faded away now and he lives in Chicago. God, I hope he never chances across this blog!

I got a job a couple of days later in Bondi Junction working for Westpac card services which paid me so well I was even able to save some cash! Jane and I stayed together for ages until she left Sydney for New Zealand. I still couldn't bear to leave so I stayed with my new found friends, one of whom I'll be staying with in Sydney this Christmas.

2 weeks. And counting...

p.s. The pic is from my last trip to Australia - this was Boxing Day 2002 and 3 kookaburras were all wet and fluffed up on our friends' deck. So cute - this one is eating some fruit - it took it from my hand - so jolly friendly!

Food Guilt

2007-11-29T14:29:00.000Z

I’m not normally that bothered about how much food I eat – it’s just what I shove in my mouth that counts. However, with now only 20 days before I board my flight to Sydney I’ve had a crashing realisation… I need to be beach ready.
Bugger! I’ve left it too late. I’m concerned that whilst lolling about in the sun with the surf lapping around my ankles, some Greenpeace do-gooders will spring from the bush and attempt to haul me from the beach and back into lifesaving waters whilst asking the age-old questions “what does cause them to beach themselves knowingly?” “How come it’s here at this time of year?” “Why is this one wearing shorts?”

Maybe I’ll just buy a kaftan and pretend I’m Turkish.
Do they wear kaftans in Turkey?

I’m unprepared in other ways for Sydney too. I haven’t even considered wardrobe options, I haven’t thought about body husbandry and I can’t remember if my visa was done when we bought the tickets or if I still need to do it.

Hmmm… On the upside – it’s still 3 weeks away so I’ve got a bit of time to sort stuff out.

The festive season is almost upon us so I’m going to be busy all the way up until departure. Already, every weekend is taken care of and midweek drinks and dinners are now filling up so that we can meet up with friends and family to wish them season’s greetings.

Note to self. Must get a mistletoe hat….

Ice...

2007-11-20T14:56:00.000Z

...cold. Brrr...

It's turned cold, grey and miserable here in London. This is a pic from my front door this afternoon at 3.30pm today. Bone-chilling drizzle has settled in for the next few months, hailstones hammering on the window woke me up last night. It's already so hard to remember what it feels like to be too hot, too hot to sleep, too hot to move around quickly, too hot to cope with London Underground. Why is that? In summer it's so tough to remember what it feels like to have cold feet or ears so cold that they hurt. Hmmm...

Already I'm missing blue skies and light evenings. It's dark, properly dark, here by 4.30pm now. I can understand how people may suffer from SAD. I'm lucky that I can escape from the gloom and speed off to brighter, sunnier climes. Only a few weeks to go now before I touch down on the opposite side of the planet to soak up some summer heat. If it rains in Sydney, I may actually cry. Still, at least it's pretty there and they sell beer - that'll cheer me up no end.

I've just spent a lovely weekend in the country and by the sea. One night at our friends' house in Kent - an impressive building which looks like a doll's house from the outside. They're both gentlemen of lavender persuasion so it's a bit 'Hello Dolly' (or should I say doily) on the inside too. If you're reading this boys - you know we love you both! It was a great evening with a splendid dinner and I enjoyed playing with Mungo, their pug, immensely. Apparently, Mungo pug helped himself to far too many Murray Mints in the afternoon and our friend had to spend some time sponging down the interior of his car before his other half finds out... Naughty pug.

We then zoomed off through the deluge to Brighton to be wind-burned, chapped and sea-soaked for a couple of days.

I'm a bit smug with myself at having conquered most of my Christmas shopping, with now only a couple of presents to get. I treated myself to a few choice items too, as did The Other Half, but we both admitted that we got a bit carried away as the shop assistant, a super hottie from Italy, was extremely positive whilst we tried on clothes. I'd have bought a bin bag to wear if he said I looked good in it.

I'm now home sheltering from the rain and wondering what it feels like to have toasty warm hands. Perhaps I should actually get off my big ol' behind and pop the heating on.

Send me warmth and sunshine someone...

I’ve had my fill!!

2007-11-07T10:55:00.000Z

I’ve said this so many times over the years and I’m saying it again now. I’ve had enough of my job. I just wish I could think what I’d rather do instead. My problem is, I don’t have a clue.

After a meeting this morning with some very grumpy managers bleating on about the same old things (which they are responsible for) expecting me to be able to make things different for them. They seek my advice yet choose not to take it, making our processes unfair.

Bugger! I’ve done this for a long time now, for the same company and I’m pretty sure it’s time for a change. Ridiculously, my job is to recruit people and to advise others within our company how to consider their suitability for other roles, yet I can’t apply my own advice to myself.

I feel a bit trapped as I’m now approaching 40 and it just gets harder and harder to change your career when you get to this age. What now? Well, my first instinct is to begin running in circles, yelling a lot whilst tearing at my remaining hair.

I need a plan, I need to find out what it is that I really want to do when I grow up. However, the grown up part already happened and I forgot to check the calendar, so it’s all come as a bit of a surprise.

I want to work in London where it will only take me a short time to get to work – I travel 1.5 hours each way every day.
I want to work for a well-recognised brand with a reputation for innovative thinking and a unique style, like the company I work for now.
I want to be close enough to my friends so that I could meet them for lunch on a work day if we wanted to.
Do I want too much?

Sigh. I feel blue…

on a much cheerier note tho... There's a new blog in town! If anyone fancies joining cuteCTguy and I in a spot of reading, we've started a book-club-blog-type thing. Check it out and see if it's of interest...

www.metrotextuality.blogspot.com

Fuzzy

2007-10-29T14:47:00.000Z

I mentioned my dog in a previous post and it’s a subject that’s been on my mind for a while. I’ve finally persuaded TOH that we (or I…) need, actually REALLY NEED, a dog. It’s taken a while for me to convince him that it’s a great idea but since achieving this small victory many people have said things that have made even me waiver in my certainty that it’s what I really want.

Questions posed…

“You have a lot of holidays. What’s going to happen then?”
This is true. We also have a whole battalion of people waiting in the wings who are desperate to be dog-sitters. Phew! Next…

“You both work. Is it fair on the dog to be alone all day?”
TOH is currently working from home so the dog would usually have someone around to begin with. We’d also be having doggy-daycare pop in twice a day to take him for walks and to ensure he’s happy.

“Is this dog a child substitute?”
!!! This is the question that throws me every time someone asks it. Because I’m a gay man in a relationship with another gay man, people seem to assume that we want our lives to resemble a straight married couples’ lifestyle as closely as possible.

I’ve had to stop and think about the question though. Would the dog be a pseudo-child?

No. It would be a furry pet that I can take for walks and do fun stuff with but it would be just that - a pet. It wouldn’t be treated like a person, it wouldn’t be allowed to sleep on my bed, it wouldn’t be allowed to dictate what goes on in my house. I can sense the shaking of heads and rolling of eyes as people tut and say “just you wait”. My previous dog was brilliant. He was friendly, amiable and always up for tummy rubs but he didn’t think he was a person because he was never treated like one. I reckon he thought we were all dogs (I’m always keen on a biscuit and a backscratch myself!)

All I know is that I really enjoyed having a dog and I miss it. It’ll mean a change in our lives, true, and it will be a responsibility but it will NOT be a child and therefore not treated like one. It will have to wait until next year anyway as we’ve got too much on until then. Who knows? Circumstances may not allow it by then and I do feel a bit nause at the idea of scooping up poo…

Now, I have to decide what kind… just needs to be fuzzy and up for scratch behind his ears at any time of day.

Bon bons…. Can you shake yours?

2007-10-23T12:43:00.000+01:00

In my last post I mentioned how certain music can lift my mood, Muzbot recently posted about his music collection and whilst faffing around with my iPod on the way to work this morning, trying to decide exactly what kind of mood I was in before I could choose appropriate music, I realised that it’s time I told you all something...

Back to this morning...

I really couldn’t settle on what to listen to so I just let fortune decide for me and put the whole thing on random. After a couple of songs I realised that this morning, absolutely nothing else would do but a playlist that I love yet don’t listen to very often. I’m not sure why I don’t listen to it that much and every time I do, I tell myself I should listen to it frequently and add more tunes to it.

Not sure if this should be a secret but now we’re all friends I’m feeling confident. I’m unashamed.

My name is Darth and I love Latino music. The cheesier the better. I suppose it’s my musical guilty pleasure.

I’m always on the lookout for new stuff so any recommendations will be gratefully received.

In the summer TOH and I were driving to a party in the north – about 5 hours drive – and we gave a couple from Buenos Aires a ride. We’d never met them before but they were good friends of the birthday girl and had flown to the UK especially for the occasion. I was a little anxious about the journey at first as we didn’t know them, it’s a long drive and I don’t speak any Spanish (apart from ‘Ola’ and ‘ tres cervezas por favor’). The trip turned out to be brilliant as they were so entertaining and lovely. Paola is an ex-model who eats like a horse yet remains glamorously toned - TOH and I watched slack-jawed as she demolished a Burger King mountain before dashing off to get donuts for the rest of the journey, just to keep hunger pangs at bay you understand. Esteban is a flirtatious, cheekily friendly little chap who won over this uber model by jumping into her car at traffic lights during Buenos Aires rush hour to ask her for a date.

After the preliminary introductions and clarification of links to our mutual friend, the conversation tailed off into silence as we all gazed out of the windows to watch the countryside zip by and to will the time to pass. As a desperate ploy to engage in something that we could talk about I volunteered my enjoyment of latino music as a starter for ten. Before we knew it, we were arriving at our destination, I had a huge list of artists to look up on iTunes and we’d made some new friends who proved to be hilarious company later in the evening at the party.

Just goes to show that music can unite us all. Right, I need to find a bucket to vom into after my last, seriously groany comment.

Cue brassy trumpets, maracas and rapid plonky piano….

Pick n Mix

2007-10-11T22:15:00.000+01:00

I was dithering about what to write today. Whilst a fair amount has gone on and I've done stuff lately it's all quite bittty and, I reckon, wouldn't make for interesting reading. Then I thought that I didn't start this blog to make it interesting reading but that it was for me to write that was the point. Then I had to have a sit down as I was out last night with some lovely London bloggers and a visiting Australian, I mixed far too many drinks, stayed out far too late on a school night and enjoyed myself far too much. Actually, I don't think I could ever enjoy myself too much.

So. This post is going to consist of some random bits and pieces. Apologies if it makes no sense, follows no acceptable patterns or reason. I'm kinda hungover, which for me doesn't actually involve headaches or nausea but a vague and distant state of thought and being. Right now this feels like I'm using someone else's hands to type and I definitely have at least one of someone else's eyeballs in.

Random thingy no. 1

Here's a pic of the beautiful view I woke up to each morning in Wales where I spent the weekend with TOH and 10 of my friends.

Random thingy no. 2

Here's a pic of the wide, blissfully empty beach that we walked along for hours in Wales. My friends all happily incognito too.

Random thingy no. 3

Whilst listening to my iPod this afternoon on my way home from work I was considering why certain songs literally make me smile - I just can't help it. I have a playlist called "Smile" which I listen to to cheer myself up or just because I'm feeling perky.

Some songs make me smile because they remind me of something in particular - people, for example, or places. Some songs just make me smile because they're so damn good. This may be something that could warrant more discussion in a post devoted all to itself but my train of thought moved on to how certain senses bring back such powerful memories.

Here is a quick list of a memory that I associate with each sense.

Clove cigarettes - the smell of these instantly brings back memories of Western Australia, Perth in particular. I was in a new country - one that I'd been desperate to visit for many years - and I loved it.

Little Red Corvette - this song just reminds me of being young, with hair and actually enjoying being a youth! I don't understand why but the guitar solo is the bit that makes me grin my head off.

Fur - I love animals, I can't help it. Stroking dogs or cats reminds me of my dog, Blue. He was 18 years old when he died and I was away backpacking around the world. For months after I got home, eating a biscuit always had a sad, little ending as I always, ALWAYS gave the last corner of it to him. I felt bad finishing a whole biscuit to myself for ages.

Ribena - I don't actually like it any more but the tase of it still makes me feel like I'm about 5 years old. For some reason, when I was growing up, it always seemed like such a luxury. We weren't the poorest of families but we weren't rich either so I suppose mum and dad made sure that the essentials were always there. Ribena always tasted... forbidden almost, a guilty pleasure - hard when you're only 5!

The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert - Not just because it reminded me of Australia and our own van, Mitzi, but because it reminds me of when I saw it first here in London with my friends. The Prince Charles cinema had a drag show before the film and everyone dressed up. It followed on from their infamous Friday night screenings of the Rocky Horror show and Sing-along-a-Sound of Music. I was newly gay, new to London and absolutely loving it. I loved my friends and I couldn't believe that my life could be so brilliant. Watching it now still fills me with a little of that excitement. However, it's like drugs, it never ever feels as good as the first time and fades a little more each go.

My final words are to recommend a song to make you smile. It's brilliant, I defy anyone not to grin at some point during it. Wierdly it's about a shipwreck but it's kinda sea-shanty-like and totally jolly. Look it up if you've never heard it.

Lady of the Sea by Seth Lakeman

Tea & Toast and Fluffy Socks...

2007-10-04T22:26:00.000+01:00

...that's all you need when you return from a trip away.

I arrived home at 4pm this afternoon. Tomorrow morning I have to get up early to catch a train to North Wales where I'm spending the weekend with TOH and 10 of our friends in a beautiful country house. I can't wait.

Apologies to those who've commented that I'm never here (Matterdays!). I promise I'll do a proper post early next week.

In the meantime here is my homecoming haiku. I'm trying hard Muzbot!

Goodbye Fuji-san.
Here brittle blue London skies,
Love's open arms. Home.

Sushi

2007-09-28T16:19:00.000+01:00

Just back from a damp and grey Mallorca, heavy cold firmly established and now I'm dashing off to Tokyo. This time it's for work. Interviewing for a couple of batches of new recruits.

I'll give more details about both Mallorca and Tokyo when I get back in just over a week's time.

Inspired by travel to Japan and the sensitive and super deep Muzbot, I've had a bash at my first haiku. Apologies if it's pants and upsets the delicate creative balance of the universe. Here goes...

Tokyo's autumn warmth
Dreams made real, some hopes shattered
My heart yearns for K

hmmm...

Out to Lunch...

2007-09-21T11:55:00.000+01:00

...in Mallorca!

Normal service will be resumed on Wednesday when I return, hopefully tanned and stuffed to the gizzards with Spanish food.

Have a super weekend if you've dropped by to say hi.

Left Overs...

2007-09-14T21:42:00.000+01:00

I wasn't sure if I should include any more of my old (now very old!) diary entries from when I backpacked around vast swathes of the earth some 13 - 14 years ago. I decided that anyone reading it would get bored with my yesteryear pretty soon but thought I'd include just one more entry as a post here.

This entry was my last of the whole 2 years of backpacking. It had been a long, eventful trip and I wouldn't have changed a moment of it back then. Now? I wish I'd taken more pictures, kept in touch with all of those amazing people I met and really, REALLY made sure that I treasured every second of it. Of course now I look back, all of those seconds I can remember are but only a fraction of the whole, so I value them greatly.

By the time I wrote this entry I'd changed as a person. I realised that I valued my friends more, how much I really missed my family but not my home and that I just couldn't believe I'd ever been swayed by peer pressure, by the end of my trip it was all my show, my life and I'd already decided what changes needed to be made in order for me to begin to enjoy it as someone being honest with himself.

So. Here it is. It's kinda dull but it ends the story.

"Hello diary. It's been a few weeks. All I've used you for is to lean on to write letters. I'll make amends.

I honestly do like Hong Kong. It's such a vibrant, interesting place. It makes my head spin and fills me with excitement when I'm out and about. In lots of ways I'm sorted here. I now have my HK resident's card, I have a job and I have somewhere to live. Shih and Shih are great guys to live with but I rarely see them, they work such long hours. Sai Kung is lovely too. It's pretty and people are friendly, considering I'm one of the few gweilos in the place. It's a long haul into Central tho and the cash I spend getting to and from work and then on rent takes up most of what I get paid. I wish I'd taken that step and just gone to Chungking Mansions like all the other backpackers. I'd have met more people that way. It was so kind of Shih to take me in and it would have been fine if Jo had made it here. Jane said she'd fly out too but not sure if she actually means it.

I'm lonely here. I don't seem to have made friends like I did everywhere else. Sometimes I go to Central to walk around or go to the peak to write my letters just so I'm where there are lots of people. I've found myself eagerly volunteering to take photos for people so that I get to talk to them. That sounds so weedy but it's true! I s'pose I speak to people at work but as I'm the only person there, it's just customers but everyone's in such a rush here they barely say two words.

I've been thinking about home a lot lately. I don't really miss it. Not sure if I should feel bad about that or not. I've never been the kind of person to get homesick so I suppose that's why. I do miss mum and dad though. Pete and Martin have written a fair bit. Mark never writes - for some reason he seemed annoyed when I left and two years later I haven't found out why, nor has he replied to letters. Wierd as Bev has replied and they were supposed to have moved in together by now.

...oops. I left writing this a couple of days ago as I needed to meet Shih. Things have changed a lot in such a short time.

I guess I'll find out why Mark hasn't written fairly soon as I've decided that I'm going home. I had a bit of a fiasco at STA as they told me my whole return ticket was only worth £60 and I'd have to pay more for my flight back. I don't understand how it all works and the lady in the shop didn't really know why either. I had to put it on my credit card. The woman at STA suggested I contact head office when I get back. I've got a flight anyway and I'm due to arrive home on mum's birthday which is a good present, I reckon. I'm flying on Virgin Airways, a new airline for me - they've got TV's in every seat! I could do with a bit of telly - it's been ages.

I'm looking forward to going home now. Only 2 days to go. It's hot and sticky here and I feel as if I haven't seen proper seasons for such a long time. I can't wait to see some non-tropical trees that will lose their leaves in a few weeks. What a nerd. Mum and dad seem really pleased. I haven't seen them for nearly 2 years. Wonder if they'll think I've changed. I wonder if they have!

I'm going out for dinner with Shih, Shih, King and the christian girls tomorrow to say goodbye. The girls tried to persuade me to stay. They're lovely and Shih P says that they all desperate for me to ask one of them out. He also laughed and said that they hope I'll go to church with them and join their social club. Small panic about that. The last thing I need is someone to try and convert me to a die-hard church-goer. They'd freak if they knew what was going on inside my head. They haven't seen Shih working out in the spare room like I have. Perhaps another reason why it's best I left. I'm not sure I can carry on with my act any more, not whilst he's parading around with very little on apart from sweat covering a billion muscles.

So. Homeward bound. I'll write more tomorrow and then I reckon one more post when I get home to finish it all off."

I never did finish it off. Shih and Shih gave me a watch as a leaving present - I nearly blubbed. My intentions of writing a final homecoming entry were never carried out. I was excited to get home, it was great to see my parents, brother and friends again. I arrived home early on a Saturday morning. I picked up my diary on Monday morning to complete my account of my journey. I couldn't write anything. It hit me that I'd made a massive mistake. I couldn't believe I was home and that I'd now need to find a job, pick up my old life with my old friends and carry on as if nothing had happened. I cried for hours. It's a good job everyone else was out at work.

Fortunately for me, by then my passion for travel had become hard-wired into my brain. After a couple of days moping I realised that any career ambitions I may have had were no longer relevant. I didn't care about work. I just wanted more travel. My flight home had given me an idea. I needed to be able to combine the two things. I decided that home couldn't live up to where I'd been and the only place in the UK that could, would be London. It was also the place that I knew I'd feel safest and have more opportunities for... well... for everything I'd need as a gay man.

Oddly enough, my Virgin flight spurred me into a career in travel but it was quite a few years later before I actually considered that it might be a good company to work for. It is. Now I do.

These days I travel all of the time, often for work, all of the time for pleasure. I'm truly content.

Another slice...

2007-09-08T02:35:00.000+01:00

Ok. My last post seemed to be of some minor success... so I'll continue in a similar vein with a different kind of twist. In my last post I explained that Australia had a special place in my heart. This is just one of the reasons why.

People travel around the world for many reasons and whilst backpacking these were often topics of discussion when meeting new people. What inspired them to travel, why they'd chosen to travel where etc. Lots of folks do it just to broaden their experiences and 'find themselves'. Now, if I'd had a pound for every person who'd said that to me I'd have been able to do the whole 2 year trip in First Class luxury and would never have had to worry about bedbugs or finding cockroaches in my bags. My point of view at the time (and even now, to some extent) was "pffft! What a load of bollocks!" Finding oneself seemed such a load of nonsense.

One very hot, very overcast, very humid day in Queensland I found myself considering the whole thing. It had been a stressful few days - the 4 of us hadn't been getting on so well - crammed in a camper van together for a few months meant all our nerves were fraying and I strode off down Mission Beach to get away from everyone so that I didn't thump them instead.

I thought about the concept of self discovery whilst travelling - at first I rejected it all then I did discover one thing... that being honest with myself wasn't as difficult as I expected it might be...

"...We left Cairns and drove the short journey to Mission Beach in the rain. The campsite is really nice and really close to the sea. I spent the afternoon alone on the beach. I love Jane, she's my best friend, but even she's getting on my nerves at the mo. Nick and Steve are driving me mad. They're so dull and, as far as they're concerned, anything that seems different or interesting about Australia just means deviating from their planned route or will just cost extra in petrol.

I sat on the beach this afternoon and really missed mum and dad. Right now I want to be with people who love me just because. It got me to thinking. Jane says she's really missing Ravi. I miss my family and my friends. I don't have anyone that I miss because I'm in love with them. It hurts. It hurts because I know why. I sat on the sand for a little while trying to avoid what had made it's way into my mind. There was no-one else there to distract me and sandcastles just don't do the trick at times like that. I can't believe how much I panicked. I felt so anxious and a bit sick forcing myself to really - REALLY - think about who I am. At one point I was so angry about it I thrashed around like a kid. That made me feel even more stupid so I slumped in a gloomy pile on a beautiful beach in a beautiful country and felt wretched. Fortunately, I've been blessed with at least a bit of an optimistic outlook. I decided I have no choice and that I need to deal with it.

I sat with my feet in the sea for a while which cheered me up and then decided I'd go and have a beer with Jane.

Don't know what to do now. I feel better that I've woken up to myself but totally clueless about what should be next.

Fuck I'm scared."

Mission Beach, Queensland, Australia. The place I eventually accepted I'm gay.

I even took a picture of it to make sure I didn't try to blank it from my mind. It took me a long time to do anything about it tho. I wish I'd tried harder but I was young and a bit spooked.

Preserves

2007-09-02T12:10:00.001+01:00

OK. Here goes. A couple of posts ago, when at a loss of what to blog about, Brechi came up with the splendid suggestion of wrting about a memento I'd had for over 10 years. As I mentioned in my last post I don't really keep much stuff but it did give me an idea...

I've been hugely fortunate to have travelled an enormous amount in my time. I'm massively grateful that I've been able to do it and it's something that I'll keep inside forever as some of the most amazing things I've ever done. I backpacked around huge junks of the globe for 2 years and then again around South Africa and Zimbabwe for 4 months in a seperate trip.

All of the small, easily carried mementos reminding me of special things/times/people that I did have were stolen in 2 places - both in Australia - bad Australians!

A bloke in Perth took everything of value from my bag at a youth hostel in Northbridge - he was a Perth guy working at the hostel and of course we all trusted him. Sadly when the police caught up with him, he'd got rid of everything he'd stolen from us poor travelling folk.

Then, in Sydney many months later, someone stole my whole bag from under our table in a bar in The Rocks.

The wide world of thieves, beggars, con-men and liars were unable to get to me but when I let my guard down in Australia someone took advantage.

I don't blame Australia though, as being there was a part of my trip that has a special place in my heart. I made so many friends and met so many amazing people, quite a lot of whom I'm still extremely close friends with today. I actually cried when I had to leave Sydney as my visa was due to expire and I was unable to extend it again. There are claw marks right through the check-in area and departures hall where I was dragged through to my flight, totally heartbroken and in despair.

So... my memento. All I have left apart from memories and photos are my diaries. I shall now copy an entry from my diary. Today's date, 14 years ago, Koh Samui, Thailand (pre "The Beach", pre the arrival of sealed roads and electricity to most of the island)....

"September 2nd 1993

We got up to catch the early boat back to Samui and have breakfast. However, Michelle had been out all night and wasn't back in time so we missed it, as we couldn't go without saying goodbye. She's the first of our merry band to break out alone. She'd had a drunken argument with her Australian bloke on their last night together and she was upset and weepy. She brightened up over her breakfast tho and then it was time for her to leave us. She's off to Krabi first and then Koh Phi Phi before heading through Malaysia, Singapore and Bali. We said our farewells and she was off to her boat. We'll meet back up with her in Indonesia or Australia.

We lounged around all morning and then had lunch (action packed day as always on Koh Pha Ngan), after which we dragged our rucksacks down to the beach to where the small boat was to collect us and take us out to the ferry. The little boat was packed and so low in the water. My arse was soaked as I was perched on the side - I had my bum in the ocean for most of the ride. All of the rucksacks were piled up high on the flat bit at the front of the boat and wobbled dangerously. I'm so relieved mine was wedged right in the middle, as the ones on the bottom were waterlogged and the ones on top drenched from the splashing of the waves.

When the boat got to the ferry, we all had to clamber up the side of the ferry on ropes. No mean feat when the little boat was crashing against the side of the ferry due to the waves and we had to then haul our rucksacks up on ropes, not to mention a very cranky and frustrated Jane whose feathers were extremely ruffled at the indignity of being dragged and hauled up like cargo because of her plastered leg. I wouldn't make a good pirate, which is a shame as I reckon I'd suit stripey jumpers and an ear-ring, not to mention all that rum and yo-ho-ho...

When we arrived at Bo Phut on Samui we managed to get a bus into Chaweng. Steve and I had to sit on the roof with the bags - bloody hell, I wish that I could travel in comfort and style just at least once whilst I'm in Thailand.

I had crab fried rice for dinner but forgot (again!) that here they don't shell their seafood so I spent the whole time crunching away and winkling bits of shell and bone out of my mouth. Must remember to order chicken.

After some 35 baht cocktails we thought, that as they are sooo cheap we should have some more. After many 35 baht cocktails and much fabulous barefoot dancing I was boiling hot. I went for a swim in the sea - still so warm at night. I thought I must have been REALLY trashed or that there was more than just alcohol in my drinks because the sea had lots of twinkly patches in it. I thought my eyes were having a bit of a fit, but each time I rubbed them and looked again there were definitely glittery patches in the water. Apparently, I am quite sane, someone told me it's "phosphorescence" caused by super small jellyfish. Not sure if that's true or not but it was amazing. They also told me off for being stupid and swimming at night when I was pissed. Fair point I s'pose."

sigh. Oh! to be young and adventurous again. Oh! to have Thailand unspoiled and undiscovered again. Oh! to have hair again...

Apologies for the ropey photo but it's quite tough getting a 14 year old photo into a system that wasn't invented when the picture was taken. It's from a bar called Bauhaus in Lamai, Koh Samui, around about the time the diary entry was written.

Eating words (not my own)

2007-08-30T14:56:00.000+01:00

Well. I asked for words and there were some provided. Thanks to Brechi for being brave and suggesting something first – your suggestion was very grown up and there’s tons I can work with there. Cheers, you’re a luv.

The rest of you are dreadful, naughty sex-mongers, peddling filth and hoping to get a peek under my skirts. We’ll see…

If you’ll allow me a little while to sort out what memento to discuss I’ll return to that in my next post. I’m not a hoarder so I don’t generally have lots of stuff that I’ve kept hold of but there are a few things. Brechi’s suggestion has also given me an idea for another post (maybe more) so it’s been a fun exercise for me.

Undershorts. Courtesy of GIL. Right – I can talk about that here and now. I’ve put the wrong ones on today. They’re more the kind I’d wear with jeans but with work trousers, thay’re a right pain in the arse – literally. The buggers are riding up something wicked and I’ve spent far too many minutes today wrenching them back into position. I jumped into them fairly quickly this morning too, failing to ensure safe and comfortable placement of all the equipment involved. It’s been a trouser tugging day I call tell you all. I love Aussiebums – soooo comfy – unless you’re wearing clingy ones under your work trousers… all that static build-up. Yikes.

My “early sexual experiences” – thanks for that CuteCTguy… Do you mean with ladies or gents?
I think I enjoyed them all! There has only ever been one time when I’ve woken up and thought “oh no… why the hell did I sleep with that?!”.
Either I’ve just been super lucky or my beer goggles have had an in-built moose-detector. That’s a bit unfair though because I actually quite like mooses (or should that be meese?!). Note to self. Visit Canada to see a real moose.
Of course I’m now REALLY lucky as I have TOH.

Ok. Next… “Hairy-chest”. This one from Monty. Cheeky usage of the hyphen to facilitate one-wordedness there. I have one (hairy chest, not hyphen). There you go. Enough said.
Ok ok. I’ve pondered the “should I wax it or leave it” question many times over the last few years. I personally love a hairy chest but I know that so many people don’t. TOH seems to like it and has one of his own. I do make sure I maintain the appropriate levels of body husbandry with regular trims though. I think I know how some of you feel about it but not sure about the rest. Chest hair that is, not my body husbandry.
Lots of my lady friends just don’t like it and prefer a smooth chest with baby soft skin. That’s kinda nice too – but my preference would be hairy.

Gee. Is that me done?

Also, please note that I've sussed how to do links. I'm nipping off to have a cinnamon mocha in celebration and to secretly glow with pride at my new achievement!

Empty

2007-08-28T14:48:00.000+01:00

Heck!

It's been nearly forever since I last posted anything on my blog.

I'm a bit stumped. I don't know why but I'm seriously lacking in inspiration or motivation to do it. Not sure why that is as I've always enjoyed writing my blog.

I need everyone's help.

Just one word from readers may spur me into action. Whatever words are left as comments, I'll try and write something relevant about me and my experiences (past or present) for each word. I may even be able to link them to food!

One word each.

Ooh. I'm a bit excited....

Greek Yoghurt with Honey & Nuts

2007-08-07T17:00:00.000+01:00

Why is it that stuff you eat on holiday tastes sooooo good but when you come home and have it, it’s all a bit of a let down?

Whilst in Mykonos I had the above a few times. It’s great – obviously I like it with as much honey as can be squeezed out of as many bees tiny behinds as possible. I love it. I’m just a bit worried that if I give it a go now I’m home I’ll be hugely disappointed.

Mykonos was terrifically lovely. I don’t think I’ve ever seen sea as deep a blue as it is there. It made me ecstatically happy sitting looking at it. There’s usually a bit of a stiff breeze in Mykonos too, so there’s always lots of little white caps on the waves.

Meeting up with our friends from Sydney also made me happy. I realised that I actually miss them quite a bit, as they’re great fun and so easy to be with. It was a real wrench to leave the island with them still there for a few days more. I had the worst case of post holiday blues that I’ve had in ages.

Hilariously, our Sydney friends invited their personal trainer along (men and women were swooning everywhere!) and they were all busy working out each morning with savage hangovers. I, on the other hand lolled about by the pool until everyone had finished and TOH had managed to haul himself from the bed and fill himself with paracetamol to numb the previous night’s excesses.

Then it was time for lunch – as I’ve mentioned in a previous post some time ago, there’s nothing better for lunch on holiday than a club sandwich. Haven’t got a clue why, it’s just the way of things. We’d then all pounce into a jeep and head off to the beach for an afternoon’s sunning and ‘meerkatting’ at attractive gentlemen. After much neck-ache inducing gawpery we retired, crispy-red, to the nearest beach bar for cold beer and possibly a few snacks to discuss where to go in the evening.

I think I’d like to be Greek. Well, for this week at least. Of course, I wouldn’t mind being Italian either. Or Spanish. French at a push. Mediterraneans are just soooo lucky. And so yummy!

Chocolate Amaretto Tart

2007-07-30T19:17:00.000+01:00

Today’s dessert offering at the staff restaurant. It’s a conundrum for me. I like chocolate, I LOVE Amaretto, I find tarts generally quite appealing. The whole combo tho’ doesn’t fill me with joy. Why is this?

Anyway, I can’t eat any of it as I have another couple of days of healthy eating before I can blow out hugely in Mykonos. Yesterday I had the most massive cravings for junk food. It’s been a while since I’ve thrown myself face-first into anything junky and I think my whole body was screaming out for a trip to the dark side of food. I admit, I strayed. I didn’t even attempt to use the force to resist such temptation, I just gave in. I ate chocolate digestives with peanut butter dolloped all over them (?) and then devoured a few super tiny snickers and bounty bars from a large box of Celebrations that has been lurking ominously around the kitchen over the weekend. TOH looked on in horror but wisely stood back, well out of harm’s way, lest he lose a limb in my feeding frenzy.

Today I feel no shame but I’m filled with new purpose and back to eating healthily again.

The weekend was a bit of a monster really and went so fast. Friday was a late night (well, early morning) affair with our friend Jon who’s staying with us. Jon is British but lives in Sydney lucky him (his partner arrived this morning too but I haven’t caught up with him yet - can’t wait, as it’s been ages). We went out in Soho and got completely lashed up. It was great. The only downer was that our friend David had his wallet stolen. He does admit that he made it quite easy tho, as when he checked his bag into the cloakroom of the club he asked quite loudly (he was slightly hammered) “will it be ok if I leave my wallet in this front pocket of my bag?” Short of saying “I’ll leave the zip open, will you be able to find it yourself?” I’m not sure how he could have made it any more obvious.

Saturday I searched fruitlessly in Covent Garden for a few items of clothing that I wanted. A few surprises along the way tho'… I found a cheeky bargain in a sale, which I’m already super fond of. Also, upon entering Paul Smith, a fabulously muscular chap bade me a cheery hello. He had the most bizarre moustache – kinda like a cavalier’s, without the beard – and whilst it was a bit mad, it was also strikingly cool and a bit sexy. He offered to help but I was so flustered I couldn’t really respond coherently. I was content to just watch him glide around the shop. Saturday evening we went to some friend’s for a BBQ and then went to an absolutely brilliant pub close to their house. It was nicely done inside with a great restaurant upstairs. The best thing about it was they had a pianist, a drummer and a saxophone player in the corner. The stand-up piano sounded so ‘east-end’ in it’s plinky-plonky way and they played such fun music. It was a total hoot. Sunday was Harry Potter day. I immersed myself heartily into the world of Hogwarts etc. Nerdy? Yes. Kids book? Yes. Enjoyable? Bloody hell, yes! I’m loving it. If you’ve read the last book, sshhh! As I’ve nearly finished it and don’t want to discuss until I do..

So… this week. Greece is the word. It’s only for a few days but I’m really looking forward to it. There’s a lot of lamb in Greece, which is a bit grim, but I think I’ll cope with all the other goodies on offer.

Now then. I need to consider my wardrobe for Mykonos. In the absence of ridiculously flappy linen (really not me), I need to work out what to wear instead – it’s 35 degrees there at the mo’, so I’ll need something to let the air circulate…

How Great IS Cake?

2007-07-27T11:42:00.000+01:00

Now then. It’s been just over 2 years that I’ve generally blathered on about cake. Well. That’s the reason for this post. I started blogging about cake. Then it transformed into all ‘food’. That was followed by stuff about what I was doing at the time. Lately it seems to be a travel journal.

Do blogs grow up?

I feel I’ve strayed from my cakey origins but I don’t think that I mind so much.
I like the fact that I’ve made some blog buddies and I enjoy the interaction with them. I’ve now also met up with a couple of these people.
1. Muzbot in Rome – the glamour – trying to find someone you’ve never met in a foreign city… it was like a movie – all we needed was Meg Ryan and a bit more of a plot. (plus a little less jetlag for him and a little less of hangover for me)
2. London bloggers. It was a total blast.
CuteCTguy has already blogged about the evening – if I knew how to insert a link here, I would – but I’ll give a quick summary of events.

Introductions & champagne
Champagne
Chips
Champagne
Lairy chat and much naughty giggling
A short walk
Curry
GIL’s reluctance to drink more
CuteCTguy and I persuading GIL to drink more
Arrival of ma-hoo-sive beers
Arrival of curry
CuteCTguy dunking most of his sleeves in curry
Accidentally thrusting Ctguy from his chair – sorry.
Weaving our way outside
Hugging a stranger in street (he was hot! At least I think he was but I may have had beer goggles on by then…)
Carriages

T’was a splendid evening and I’m looking forward to ‘part deux’ v soon.

It was such fun that the two gents above should really be awarded some kind of recognition for their part in the shenanigans. Therefore, they are to become honorary Knights of Cake and their titles shall now be “Beef” and “Short”... -cake, obviously.

I’m off to Mykonos next week so I’m really only permitted to write about cake. Consumption of anything resembling a sugar/flour-based confection would lead to weight gain causing horror, maybe even terror, (possibly expulsion) in the streets and on the beaches of the island.

Sigh. I’m off to gnaw on a rice cake.

Foie Gras

2007-07-16T13:43:00.000+01:00

En Provence there was lots of this

Beaucoup de these

A lot of sitting here

Tons of this around (including the bees!)

Lots of these

And a great deal of general (usually drunken) holiday merriment.

Sigh.

I feel like a goose who has been crammed full of stuff to make foie gras. Obviously, there was no funnel forcibly shoved down my throat, I did it all to myself quite willingly. However, I wish I’d shown a bit of restraint now and again. There is a worrying amount of trouser-tightening going on. (No rude comments please). I only have two and a half weeks to prepare for my next sojourn, to Mykonos, and the panic is beginning to mount as we’re meeting some lovely friends there. They’re old friends who moved to Sydney six years ago and whilst there have turned into “uber gays”, meaning they don’t have a single ounce of excess body fat and have literally everything trimmed, waxed, curled, dyed and tonsured. Sitting next to them makes me feel positively ancient and ‘under-developed’. I need to put in at least a little effort to improve. Actually, they’re great so they won’t be bothered anyway and it’ll be brilliant to see them - it’s been far too long this time and I kinda miss them.

I know, I know. “how many holidays do you actually go on?”

I can hear you all saying it. I do work in the travel industry tho. I’m NOT a trolley dolly however, so before anyone starts bleating on about that – cut it out!

My week away has flown by. I can’t believe I’m back in London already. The taste of croissants has diminished, the scent of lavender faded and the Provencal skies seem a beautiful, but distant memory. The weather here is still a pile of pants. It’s been so wet I’m almost convinced I’m beginning to grow webbed toes and fingers.

Bugger. Now where did I leave my brolly....

Baguette!!

2007-07-05T14:53:00.000+01:00

Zut alors! I’m quite excited. My holiday to Provence has come around really quickly. I can’t wait – I can almost smell that Lavender.

My facial disfigurement is, thankfully, on the decline thanks to some whiz-bang antibiotics and I’m now thinking of such pithy issues as what to pack? What will I need? Do I need fancy shoes?

I’ve never been to Provence before so this should be quite fun. The other half has packed his French language CD’s. I imagine they’ll return from France in exactly the same pristine state as they are at present – unused. I need to brush up on my Francais so that I’m able to order the most ludicrously large lunches, buy vin by the case load and nibble on fromage until dawn. I’m actually not that keen on cheese but I’ll give it my best efforts as an Englishman abroad.

I’m looking forward to sitting by the pool, reading a small Alp of books, listening to a shed load of music and generally lounging about – glamorously so, of course.
There’ll be quite a few of us in our gorgeous villa so it’ll be great fun. There’ll be me and TOH, naughty David (see pic in my post about San Sebastian), lovely Adrian, hunky Mike (from Arizona – they make them well out there don’t they!) and some ladies – PC Jayne and Irish Liz.

I’d also like to mooch around a few Provencal villages, maybe try on a beret or two and learn to play boules. It’s obvious that I’m almost half way to being French already. All I need now is to devour Le Figaro every morning over a seething black coffe and e voila!

p.s. has anyone tried the new M & S rocky road mini bites? They’re delish!

Boiled eggs

2007-06-30T11:54:00.000+01:00

Sigh. I'm truly contented, for the moment at least. It's Saturday morning and I've just had boiled eggs and toastie soldiers for breakfast. It's my fave. It's also super-duper comfort food. More of that in a bit.
As a kid, although fairly feisty and a little 'spirited', I was a bit of a girl in some ways (big surprise!) and I hated toast soldiers being called 'soldiers' for some reason. Everyone had to adjust and, in my presence, rename them as toast rabbits. What a pain in the arse!

Anyhoo. It's been a bit of a frustrating fortnight really. Despite doing lots of lovely things I've hit a tricky patch health-wise which is unusual for me as I'm normally never ill. I've got some kind of skin allergy, previously diagnosed by my doctor as a food allergy but now he's changed his mind. Grrr. I can't keep up. It's just like getting a skin peel - red and itchy with swollen eyes and then my face peels off in a matter of days. Grim.

I've spent the week in Manchester on business, and it's been such a busy, hectic week with long hours. One good point was I got to spend an evening with my brother & sister in-law as they live pretty close to Manchester. We went out for dinner and drank beer and they laughed at my face..... whilst in Manchester, I had to visit a health clinic as one side of my face swelled up to Elephant man proportions. Apparently, possibly as a result of my skin reactions of the last couple of weeks, I now have a skin infection. I literally have no jaw line on one side of my face. It's too depressing. I'm taking about a gajillion tablets a day now for a whole variety of possible and, as yet, undefined ailments that I'm starting to rattle when I move fast.
To add icing on the cake I seem to have picked up a hideous cough which makes me hack like an old smoker. I want to hide away from the world for a very long time.

What a misery-guts. I'll pull myself together in a wee while.

One brilliant ray of sunshine is that I'm going to Provence next Saturday to stay in a beautiful villa for a week. I'm taking a pile of books, my iPod and planning to do zero for 65% of the time. The other 35% I shall be eating.

I promised that I'd throw a few pics of our recent visit to Rome in my next post so I s'pose I should do that here and now. Lately, I'm having problems getting photos on to my blog - it's seriously giving me the hump!

Here goes....

I love this pic - it makes me laugh out loud every time I see it. My friend David in the bottom left looks like a muppet gatecrasher!

Yikes! Haven't got a clue what's going on with my shirt here - I'm the one in red, in case you're new here. It's all a bit Tom Jones isn't it?! I promise I'm not wearing leather trousers.

What lovely chaps! I'm so lucky to have them to accompany me about the globe!

Whew!!! Swan Sandwich anyone?

2007-06-14T14:59:00.000+01:00

Apologies for the dreadful tardiness and general lack of postings over the last few weeks. I’ve been busy.

Here’s a brief summary.

Rome
Paris
House of Commons (get me!)
Wales (North)
Swan Lake
Work x lots

Tomorrow I’m off to Bruges for the weekend. I’m exhausted.

Rome was spectacular, beautiful, warm, friendly and tremendous fun. I met up with fellow blogger, Muzbot briefly. He was totally jetlagged and very brave for setting foot outside his hotel room in such a state. Not sure exactly what he’s like as a person (I think he may have been a bit stunned by the deafening roar of the conversation between my friends and I) but despite the big, bikey, blokey demeanour he seemed a gentle and friendly type. Anyone who knows him, feel free to agree or correct – Muzbot, you’re not allowed to comment!

Paris was, as usual, achingly, untouchably chic – this is meant in a positive way. Paris is like a model (or in my experience, a sexy barman). Right there in front of you looking amazing and incredibly flirty but you both know you don’t have a single hope of getting into their pants. Rome on the other hand has a big arrow pointing to the zipper with a ‘first ride free!’ ticket.

The House of Commons terrace was for a friend’s 50th birthday and was fun –influential political types plonked about (the friend is quite well connected and used to be something in politics a ways back) and other big-wigs from advertising and national bodies. I focused on champagne.

Wales was another party for the friend above, held at another friend’s enormous pile set in 50 acres of countryside. More champagne, a ludicrously large, budget-gobbling firework display, Welsh poetry & music (again – completely clueless was I), plus dancing outside until well on into the wee small hours.

Swan Lake. Utterly beautiful. The English National Ballet’s production at the Royal Albert Hall is ENORMOUS! There are about a gazillion swans all paddling elegantly in the mist-enshrouded lake.
It’s just lovely. Go see.

Tomorrow we’re off to Bruges to stay with our smashing friend Sophie. Sophie is groovily laid back so we won’t have to be up at the crack of dawn each day. She loves long, lazy breakfasts (something that they do really well in Belgium – with added Nutella!). I’m really looking forward to it, although I feel like I should have my own carriage on Eurostar these days, I’ve been on it so much.

The other half still has more travel to deal with. Next week he’s off to New York and Las Vegas for a stag do. I’m pleased I don’t know the ‘stag’ which means I can relax at home for the first weekend in a couple of months.

I’ll try and get some pics of my latest adventures (many under the influence of far too much booze) in future posts.

Talking Italian

2007-05-23T14:44:00.000+01:00

On Friday I’m off to Rome! I can’t wait.

It’ll be warm, it’ll be sunny. The food will be great, the wine will flow.
I’m already a bit worn out with so much contented sighing and I haven’t even left London yet.

I’ve been to Rome so many times that it’ll feel as familiar as a pair of comfy shoes (stylish designer obviously, possibly Italian).
What to do whilst I’m there? Well there’s shopping, of course. I’ve seen most of the sights so I’m on the look out for unusual stuff that’s not mobbed by the gazillion tourists that will be clogging the place up. Any suggestions would be gratefully received. I was about to add “clean ones only please” but then thought “what the hell!?”. Lay them all on me!

Perhaps I’ll just park up in a bar on a square and watch people. It’s my favourite thing to do anyway. I may as well just find the best spot and start gawping straight off.

There’s the Italian chaps to keep an eye on too…

This is my usual conundrum.
Italian boys are such a contradiction. They all look/act gay yet are so vehement about their passion and adoration for women. Mind you, it’s been said to me before that the difference between a gay Italian and a straight one is a bottle of Peroni. On a previous visit, the other half and I were propositioned by a supposedly straight guy who was quite open about the fact that, as we were tourists it was unlikely that we’d ever meet his girlfriend, therefore he was perfectly safe and not actually gay at all – because no-one would find out. Hmmm… Regardless of whether they are gay or straight though, they’re all unbelievably, excitingly and dangerously flirty. It’s baffling, maddening and fabulous all at the same time. Damn those naughty Italian guys.

I suppose I’d better talk about food (How Great is Cake? I’ve almost forgotten whilst thinking about gents of a Roman – or even roamin’ – persuasion). I intend to demolish a modest amount of Tiramisu, maybe a small hillock of pizza and a few shovel loads of risotto. I LOVE risotto. However, this provides another quandary. Carbs are the enemy of the gay. I still have a small way to go before being ready for summer and I don’t want to undo it all at the final hurdle. I’ll never be the snake-hipped twenty-something I used to be so I need to make sure that I stick to lots of fruit and veg. What the hell am I saying?! It’s never going to happen. Bugger. Bring on the lard.

Also I may meet up with a fellow blogger if we can co-ordinate schedules – that’ll be super-exciting!

Ciao all!

PST

2007-05-10T22:17:00.000+01:00

Well...

Here goes. I didn't actually promise I'd do it but here y'all are.
Just remember, it was taken when I got home after a really busy day which aged me by at least a decade. I look like I haven't shaved in weeks.

At least you can see I'm wearing a pink shirt (a range of pinks actually).

Please bear in mind what I've just mentioned and be kind...

Panini

2007-05-09T15:07:00.000+01:00

Just had one for lunch with chicken, cheese and roasted onion – sounds a weird mix but it was delicious. It was a sandwich I wanted to last forever, but alas it came to an abrupt and greasy chinned end and I sat quietly and sadly for a few moments before continuing with my day.

I’m soooo tired lately. I can’t work out why. I slept a fair bit over the weekend too.

We had a lovely weekend pottering about and meeting up with friends. Spent part of the bank holiday in Brighton too. It’s a while since we’ve been, so it was good to get back to the flat and to get some sea air. It was a bit strange as the town felt deserted. The weather was ropey tho, which may explain the absence of the usual holiday weekend crowds. It gave us the opportunity to walk along the beach and get suck in a few lungfulls of fresh air, combined with a few gallons of sea spray as it was fairly rough.

We’re back to Brighton again this weekend as we’re having some friends to stay. I’m quite looking forward to it as we haven’t seen them for a bit and it’ll be fun to catch up over dinner and a few barrels of booze.

As it’s nearly Summer I’m attempting to cut down on eating rubbish but it’s so darned tough. My whole blog revolves around my love of cake for goodness sakes. Actually, that’s not strictly true any more is it? I’ve rambled on about numerous non-cakey subjects of late, often encouraged to do so by naughty blog visitors who have interests other than baked goods. Anyway, I’m trying to cut down so that I can be trim and toned for those all-important shorts and smaller outer garment appearances whilst on hols. Eat less cake, exercise more. Gloom…

For those who have demanded it, I shall endeavour to remember PST this week, evidence may be available but I haven’t decided yet – I seem to have gone a bit shy.

Pink Champagne

2007-05-03T12:42:00.000+01:00

It’s great. I like it. But how in hell do you get rid of the taste of it the next day? Short of shaving my tongue, I’ve done pretty much everything I can think of. All to no avail!

Last night the other half and I went to see Equus with our lovely friend Chris and a couple of good-time girls who Chris works with. The play was brilliant and Daniel Radcliffe, as well as being awesomely buff and disturbingly sexy for a 17 year old, was excellent. I’ll never be able to think of him as Harry Potter again, not least because I’ve seen him running about the stage totally stark naked. He really was great in the part and deserves much credit.

Afterwards we went to a gay bar in Soho for ‘one’. I held firm that, as it was a school night, I needed to be home in plenty of time to fit in adequate beauty sleep. There were murmurs of general agreement but I should have realised that the low-level response heralded the onset of a much meatier night out.
We moved on to another bar where pink champagne began to flow – one of the ladies was responsible. Us boys, being of a pinkish persuasion anyway, set to with gusto. Chris lives in Edinburgh, so he wanted to maximise gawping at cute London boys, another sign that I wasn’t going to be able to tear people away from what was beginning to slide into ‘a bit of a big night’. I was brave and declared that it was time for me to head home and I would take my leave. Everyone agreed that we should leave too. “Hurrah” I thought. “Bugger” I thought immediately after, as I was grabbed by both arms and hauled into the club we were passing. My bag was whizzed into the cloakroom and I was shepherded to the bar, protesting weakly – I’d had vodka, champagne, no food and I’d come straight from work. I gave in. I drank more pink champagne. I figured that it was already late, I’d feel tired today anyway so I might as well make the most of it, drink more and watch the cute and the lovely gays of London bustle about the club.

Whilst eating 3 minute noodles in our kitchen at 3am with the boys I remember thinking “What the f… am I doing?!” The thought didn’t last as I was immediately distracted by shovelling another heap of noodles into my mouth.

Some questions…

Why noodles?
It was all we had in – no bread, no cheese, no fishfingers (always great on a sandwich when you’re smashed!)
Why am I finding a 17 year old sexy when my mind tells me it’s just not right?
I can’t help it – he’s uber cute.
Why can’t I get rid of the taste of pink champagne?
Please! Someone come to my aid on this one.

And to top it all off, of course, on waking this morning I felt as rough as a bear’s arse and looked like a total bag of spanners for the whole day.

Harrumph!!

Donuts

2007-04-27T16:04:00.000+01:00

Right. Crucial, Friday type of debate.

Ring or jam?

Now you need to think carefully. Opinion here at work is divided. My own thoughts are, why bother with a ring of plain, glazed dough? There’s nothing exciting about them - from the moment you start into one until you reach your fingers on the other side. They’re yawn central.

Jam filled however… cheeky surprise inside. Also, there’s an element of danger involved – you have to eat carefully or you could be scraping sticky donut innards from the front of your shirt and from your chin.

Krispy Kreme is a current favourite as their donuts are soft and squishy. Most other brands are too bready.

Leading on from this one step further, is the dilemma - jam or custard? I’m a bit torn there really, as I love a bit of custard. I also love a bit of jam. In a donut, in biscuits, on toast.

It’s the weekend. I’m off out for tapas this evening and then off to a birthday party in Holland Park tomorrow.

I suspect I may have a hangover story to tell come Monday…

Energy Drinks

2007-04-23T13:52:00.000+01:00

I feel I really need a cart-load of energy drinks right now. After 2 gruelling weekends of artery-narrowing food and a kidney-punishing amount of alcohol, I think I’m ready for a quick visit to The Priory (UK version of Betty Ford clinic).

Last week was a major booze fest that I don’t think I fully recovered from until Wednesday, all made worse by having a super sore throat. This weekend was another stonking booze-fest which ended yesterday in an 8.45am cab dash through the streets of London, to get the other half and I as close to home as possible before the city roads shut down for the London Marathon. We had to walk the last part as we’d left it just a little too late to end our shenanigans before attempting to head home. Our ‘dirty whore walk of shame’ in last night’s clothes, reeking of drink and fags took us through preparations for street-side marathon parties and cheery faced early gatherers, getting ready to wave their loved ones on. My unshaven, blood-shot eyed look sadly wasn’t convincing enough as one of the many fancy dress runners. One of our friends, who we’d left at 8.45am, sent a text message to say that his partner looked like a ‘drag fish-wife’. You can only imagine my appearance as I fell through our front door, crawled up the stairs and flopped onto the bed like a rancid old tramp.

Yesterday was spent loafing about in post-booze haze. I think I drank about 8 litres of water standing at the kitchen sink as soon as I got up. I really wanted to just get a garden hose and place it down my throat for an hour. My tongue felt like the inside of a vacuum cleaner bag (probably looked like one too, but I couldn’t risk facing it in the mirror).

I’m off to see the stage version of The Sound of Music this week so I need to dig out my wimple and starting dusting off a few of my favourite things.

If anyone in the UK has the chance to see ‘Boeing Boeing’ at the Comedy Theatre just off Haymarket, snap up a ticket – it’s hilarious!

Ok. I feel the water cravings returning. I need to go and suck dry a water barrel or three.

Eating for England

2007-04-12T22:43:00.000+01:00

I really went for it! I showed Spain what a stomach on legs can really do. I made an enormous dent in the San Sebastian pintxo output. Sadly my trousers suffered the complete opposite - no dents but every space was filled to capacity. So much so, that on Tuesday back at work, my trouseres split and the fly started to fall out. Honestly! I was crimson with shame. However, I think it's more to do with poor needlework than massive overindulgence in this case, as they were brand new and the other pair I bought on the same day are holding out quite nicely.

Back to my trip to Northern Spain. The train was hilarious. It was kinda like camping but on the move. A group of fully grown men in one compartment might sound like the recipe for a wild old time but it was more like a scene from "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" rather than "Some Like It Hot"! Six men attempting to step around each other in a small compartment of a rapidly moving train in stripey pyjamas. It was a good job we'd had plenty of wine before each journey, as we just fell about like rag dolls sustaining absolutely no injuries at all. It was a hoot tho.

The gay bar (note - no 's' at the end of the word bar) was fun too but, as per the official Spanish Nightlife Rulebook, no-one turned up until midnight. I was pie-eyed by then but still managed to roll into the hotel at about 5am each morning. The other half had performed his usual task and 'child-proofed' the room for me each night (bless) before my dramatic entrance and graceful swallow-dive onto the bed. My friend David and I seemed to be the naughty boys of the weekend (no change there) as everyone showed admirable restraint on the alcohol front, apart from us. I was still up red-eyed and scruffy-tailed each morning tho, to embark on yet more pintxo adventures.

Pintxos really are amazing. There are literally heaps of them on each and every bar and you just help yourself, telling the bar staff how many you've had when the time comes to move on. Of course I was hopeless at this, as David and I were shovelling fistfulls of the things into our permanently open maws. I'm putting in some photos of pintxos to give you a little local flavour.

Please note also the pic of me - dreadful it is too, but I said I'd do it in my last post. I wasn't too smashed when it was taken but all in of the others I have a somewhat vacant gaze... I'm on the left and naughty David is on the right.

Oh. And could someone pleeeeease explain to me how I get pics where I want them, rather than bunched up at the top of a post? Ta.

Pintxos

2007-04-04T11:56:00.000+01:00

Huh?

Yes. Pintxos. It’s the Basque word for tapas. It’s something that I’m hopefully going to be VERY familiar with by the close of the weekend.
Tomorrow I’m off with some chums to San Sebastian in Northern Spain. A group of 6 gay men on a sleeper train through Europe to the sun. How pink is that going to be?

Here’s my weekend holiday checklist…

Tickets
Money
Passport
Hot water bottle – for storing gin onboard the train – a la “Some Like It Hot”
Splendid pyjamas – essential bunkwear for sleeper train chic
Sunglasses – extra dark - for secret, unobserved perving at super cute Spanish hotties
Cap – to prevent my newly shaved head from becoming toast
Glamourous eveningwear
Shorts – need to get my legs brown. Winter has taken it’s toll…my legs look like hairy church candles – although still marvellously shapely!
Cool and groovy daywear – no excuse for looking shoddy
Elasticated waist trousers – pintxos, tapas, pintxos, tapas, beer, beer, beer…
Camera – I’ll try and get evidence of Spanish hotties as mentioned above
A solid constitution – a whole weekend of Spanish booze will require serious focus
A list of San Sebastian gay bars – more of a pamphlet really. We should get around all of them by midnight on the first day. We’ll probably be on a continuous gay loop for the weekend
Easter eggs – rude not to

I really, really love Spain. It’s warm and sunny, people are generally attractive with fabulous skin and no-one goes out in the evening before 11pm. To do so would be social suicide. Everyone has dinner at the kind of time I would be having breakfast, were it a work day and even the cheapest of wine tastes great – in fact the more you drink, the better it gets as your taste buds get gradually killed off…

Adios!

Veg

2007-03-28T14:34:00.000+01:00

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!

2007-03-21T12:41:00.000Z

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

2007-03-19T13:03:00.000Z

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

2007-03-16T17:25:00.000Z

… 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

2007-03-13T11:57:00.000Z

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

2007-03-06T19:45:00.000Z

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.

So SO proud

2007-02-26T11:19:00.000Z

Before I start on a huge rambling explanation of my recent exploits I’ll give you a rapid, Bridget Jones style round up of cakey goings on over the last few days.

Espresso Crème Brule – so amazing – dessert with a buzz!
Cauliflower cheese pie from EAT containing (of all things) boiled egg – cheeky surprise and I can’t deny it I’m hooked!
Afternoon tea selection of cream cakes.
A vast array of assorted biccies – M&S chocolate cornflake cakes, Jaffa cakes, Digestives, fig rolls – ooh – too many to mention.
Argentinean style cheesecake – who knew!?!

Why I’m not just a lard-filled barrel on legs I don’t know but whilst I can get away with it, I’m packing it all in!

Now. To other business, normal sponge/pastry related issues will return as soon as possible but other stuff has been occurring that needs mentioning.

My parents came to stay over the weekend. It’s the first time that I’ve seen them since the momentous revealing of my being a big ol’ gay. It was also the first time for them to meet the other half.
I wasn’t especially nervous or anxious about it all, as I’d spoken to Mum and Dad on the phone a fair bit since telling them. I was unsure how things would work out tho and I’d kind of resigned myself to just accepting whatever happened next. I’d told them the truth and felt a whole lot better about having done so and I just thought that whatever their reaction was, I’d deal with it.
I can honestly say that I think my parents are quite possibly the coolest, kindest people on the planet – in my view at least. They met the other half more or less straight away (we live together so kind of difficult to avoid that really) and were so calm and together about it. Inside they may have been in total chaos but they never even let a hint of that show.
Over the weekend some barriers were gently lowered and my Mum even said to the other half over dinner (with a lot of wine) “welcome to the family”. An easy throwaway comment in many circumstances but for me, such a huge thing to say and delivered so casually and genuinely. Mum and Dad may still feel a little uncomfortable about things but they never voiced it. I think it’ll still be some time before the issue becomes invisible to them and they don’t give it a second thought but, for now, it feels like we’re well on the way. I realise I’m so, so lucky to have my Mum and Dad.

We went for some fab dinners over the weekend and the parents loved The Lion King, which has changed a little since I saw it a couple of years ago. It’s still great fun tho and must be mind-blowing for kids.

I need a long lie down now after the weekend. I feel suddenly a LOT older and seriously weary – Lord only knows how poor Mum and Dad must be feeling.

p.s. has anyone seen the pics of Harry Potter loooking all grown up and buff?! I feel a bit pervy but OMG!!!!!

Birthday Blog! Excess Cake!!

2007-02-20T17:51:00.000Z

It was my birthday yesterday. Of course, wishes of many happy returns will still be gratefully received.

I'm usually a jolly, perky sort and haven't really been upset by milestone birthdays so far, but it's occurred to me that I'm now only 12 years away from being 50! Don't know how I came to this realisation but it's stumped me a bit. I hope some fabulous 50 year olds can reassure me that I have much to look forward to! Ladies seem to be able to do it with much more grace tho - lots of older ladies manage to carry it off with such style.

It was also Shrove Tuesday here yesterday. As I'd already been out to a swanky do on Monday, I didn't really feel like going out last night so we had some chums around and did the pancake thing, which was a hoot. I love pancakes but they don't half fill you up don't they?!

We really went for it on the fillings front and after some concentrated efforts at trying almost everything, I had to surrender before my trousers gave out and guests were injured.

The other half then sprung out a cake with musical candles - hilarious - and decorated with marzipan dogs! I'm a bit of a marzipan fan so it was a winner of a cake, obviously had to sample a slice and have a nibble on one of the dogs with a cup of tea before bedtime!

On Monday the other half and I went out to a Gala Dinner at The Dorchester for the English National Ballet, thanks to our friend Craig. It was great. Lots of good food and wine. Lots of seriously glamourous people and an awful lot of impressive cleavage about. I discussed the decolletage issue with the lady sitting next to me (she had a particularly fetching plunge in her outfit and it pays to advertise). She explained that hers were real. Bizarre. I drew the line when invited to actually 'have a feel' but assured her they looked the genuine article. She was a lady of a certain age and a good example of my earlier comment about being 50, or thereabouts, and pulling it off with great aplomb. After such a conversation I became suddenly aware that a knock-out dress really can be improved when it's got a great chest squeezed into it with some spectacular jewellery to dangle provocatively...

Rick Astley (80's singer from the same musical origins as Kylie Minogue) sang at the event and he was really good. No, really!! He should return to recording. He sang a whole set of swing music and knocked spots off the likes of Robbie Williams' lame attempt at a similar thing. I was impressed. Yay for Rick!!

There was also ballet, which I'm still new to but enjoyed immensely, much to my surprise.

Yesterday, on arrival at work I discovered my colleagues had decorated my desk with banners and stars. I'm not a blusher but I got a bit flustered and flappy with all of the attention. They gave me presents too which is so brilliant! I don't normally work on my birthday - I take a day off or travel somewhere lovely but yesterday was a nice day.

Lil’ Star

2007-02-12T16:38:00.000Z

A bit of a move away from my usual themes of cake/food but I LOVE LOVE LOVE this song! It’s strange as I’m not a fan of Kelis really, but this is so different to the stuff she normally does.

Usually I hate it when a song gets stuck in my head and goes around and around, but this one I’m more than happy to have playing on a loop at the back of mind. For the time being at least.

Thinking of such things… Here is my top-ten list of songs that stick in your mind and drive you mad. Be warned, read this list at your peril – you may have the continual torture of irritating noise in your head all day. My colleagues and I compete to see who can find the worst and fastest acting of these earworms.

1. Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
I know, I know. You’re probably thinking it’s a harmless, charming little ditty but take my word for it – it’s powerful stuff.

2. I Love Your Smile by Shanice
Again, sounds inoffensive enough, but give a few runs through in your head and see what happens.

3. In the Middle of the Night by Billy Joel
Danger danger danger!!

4. Ride on Time by Black Box
“Gotta gettup, gotta gettup, gotta gettup…… waaaaahaaa….”

5. Downtown by Petula Clarke
It’s where all the lights are bright – apparently

6. Shiela’s Wheels TV ad tune
Oh! The horror!

7. Saturday Night by Whigfield
It’s so darned rubbish!

8. Rehab by Amy Winehouse
This is such a cool song but played so much on the radio that now it’s been hardwired into my brain.

9. Baby Elephant Walk by Henry Mancini
If you don’t recognise the title you’ll definitely have heard the music – it’s a real killer of an earworm.

10. Two Times by Ann Lee
Total Aaaaarrggghhhh!! Doo doo doo-doo doo-doo....

Right. Got that off my chest. Anyone know of any cures for earworms? That way I’ll be able to endure my colleagues’ best (or should I say worst) efforts and triumph, smiling serenely.

I think I need a quick lie down. I’m a bit scared to read through this before posting, as I may be tempted (subconsciously, of course) to sing, hum or tap out some of the hideous punishments above….

M & S Wraps

2007-02-05T17:04:00.000Z

Had one for lunch – delish – all I had time for.

I’m so busy at the mo that blogging has been a little down my list of things to do. I’m making an effort so I hope you all appreciate how virtuous I am. Gratitude in the form of cash will, of course, be accepted by the truckload.

So…. What’s new? Weeeellll. Not much really. After last week’s turbulent and exciting events, this week has seen a serene calm descend. The parents are behaving as if the conversation had never happened, or as if it has been something that they’ve known and accepted years ago. Time will tell but they’ve been brilliant in their own way and I’m privately enormously proud that they are handling things so well – outwardly at least.

Our friend left for her life in Namibia on Sunday – she’s lived there before – much earlier than when Brad & Angelina decided to show up to experience the ‘real Africa’. Hilariously enough though they stayed in a German tourist resort that looks like a small part of Bavaria has been uprooted and planted at the edge of the desert – African life is nowhere to be seen…. for miles!

We’ll all miss her (again) but if she stays for a long time I’ll be v happy to visit, as Namibia is a fantastic place. The wildlife there is spectacular and the game parks are so much emptier of people than Kruger or other, more well documented reserves. Go now before the world discovers it and it all gets turned into leopard-spotted Disney. The pic is my close encounter with an elephant at Etosha game reserve – I now know that the colour of fear is brown….

Also been attempting to get some holiday plans organised. So far we’ve decided on Provence in July and a cheeky weekender to Rome in May, as we love Rome so much. Rude not to really…

Ciao!

Big weekend

2007-01-29T16:44:00.000Z

Well well well….

It’s been a monster of a weekend. From a splendid evening at the theatre to far too much wine, I seem to have packed a lot in - and some.

Phew! I’m not entirely sure where to start with this blog entry. Part of my weekend activities weren’t enjoyable in the least and caused considerable stress. More of that later,

Saturday we went to see Little Shop of Horrors at a small dinner theatre venue. It was FANTASTIC! The production is moving to the West End in March but is sold out until then. If anyone has the chance to catch it then I strongly suggest you do. As there was dinner involved, that meant there was wine accompanying it (naturally!). We were able to drink whilst watching the show and then went for a drink afterwards. Sounds splendid doesn’t it? And it was. So splendid, we decided to continue and all trooped off to a gay club. More booze. I foolishly couldn’t decide what to drink and so panic ordered beer. Nice combo so far - wine then beer. I then realised that I really didn’t want beer so swapped to vodka. Anyone getting the picture yet?

During our now drunken escapades we met a man with some kind of glitter in a jar. We were covered in it and at some point I even got my chest daubed in it – haven’t got a clue how that happened as I don’t recall removing my shirt at any point.

Sunday morning dawned and a corker of a hangover bloomed. After a couple of nurofens, I felt able to take on the world and descended to breakfast, still sparkling like crazy.

Now comes the hard bit…. My parents and I usually chat on a Sunday. This Sunday was different. The conversation went as per usual until completely derailed by my telling them I’m gay. Bless them. My mum said “sorry love, I didn’t hear that last bit”. So had to say it again!
Stunned silence and telephonic static.
Dad’s shocked response was “I’m not happy about that”, Mum’s was “are you happy?”
It was one of the most difficult conversations I’ve ever had. I’m a confident person and comfortable with my sexuality but this experience shook me a lot I’ll admit. It’ll take a while for my parents to adjust and I hope they’ll feel better about it as time goes on. They’re still speaking to me, so that’s a good start. I think I’ve been luckier than a lot of people so I’m grateful and thankful for that.
The hilarious irony of this whole situation was I was sat there talking to my parents on the phone about being gay, attempting to portray an image of settled, grown-up, responsible gay life. However, my appearance suggested the total opposite, as I sat covered in last night’s glitter, reeking of booze and looking like roadkill in pyjamas.

Next step is for the other half to “Meet the Parents”. That’s gonna be a real bust!

Cold Hands!

2007-01-23T11:11:00.000Z

... Warm heart. Or so they say. I’d ask them what it all means but I don’t know who ‘they’ are.
Anyway. My hands are soooo cold today. I’m usually a warm person and rarely feel the cold if I’m indoors. I just can’t seem to get warm tho. It’s impractical to type wearing gloves of course, well near impossible actually. I may have to resort to ‘old-lady-knitted-blanket-on-lap’ arrangements…

It’s strange. For the past few weeks there’s been the usual wittering from weather channels etc about how unseasonably warm it’s been, daffodils sprouting, slumps in sales of winter coats etc. Yet suddenly, this week nature has decided to report back in for duty and switched off the heating. Bugger.
I suppose it’s a good sign as it means global warming is being held off just a little bit longer.
I watched a TV programme the other day about global warming and how Britain will be affected – it’s a bit scary really. Even if the UK puts all it’s efforts into changing, we’re still at the mercy of other nations who are still showing absolutely no signs of giving a stuff about the rest of us. You know who you are! If you were a person, you would have been well and truly spanked by the rest of the world by now for being a brat.
The UK, however, is far from being perfect so we all have a lot of work to do in order to keep the planet alive. I must get some environmentally friendly lightbulbs on my way home and then plan my eco-friendly 'next steps'!

Sermon over. I think a nice cup of Lady Grey tea is in order with a chocolate digestive. At least I could put my hands around my cup to warm up. I’ve become strangely addicted to Lady Grey tea lately. I must be turning into an old dear myself. It’ll be cake on doilies next and sandwiches with no crusts. Eek. I hope not. I LOVE bread, especially the crusts. When I was young there was almost a full-on wrestling tournament to get the thick ends of every loaf. Not just with my brother but also my mum. Mum was always up early so she usually triumphed, unless she did the ‘mum’ thing and allowed us to get there first.

Mmmm… a nice bit of hot buttered toast would be fabulous right about now…

A little bit of culture

2007-01-19T10:28:00.000Z

Not necessarily food (or cake) related, but the other half and I decided to make the most of living in London in 2007. We’ve both lived here for ages but we don’t always take advantage of what it has to offer. London is choc full of cool stuff to do and see, but often when you live in a place you forget about all of that as you walk past it daily, on your way to and from work. I often speed by Big Ben or Buckingham Palace without stopping to think where I am. I’ve even actually looked at my watch when I’m stood next to Big Ben – how dim is that!

This year though, we’ve decided that we’re going to experience London more, like we did when we first came to live here. We, and our friends are always keen to try out the new, coolest bar or restaurant in town (how very Sex and the City!) so we’re just really adding on to that plan.

Already we’ve been to the ballet (unbelievable! I’m hooked – if anyone has the chance to see The English National Ballet’s performances of Giselle then I urge you to go!!!), we’re going to see a small production of Little Shop of Horrors next week at a groovy little theatre called The Mernier Chocolate Factory (it includes dinner too – lord knows how that’s gonna fit in with the bloodthirsty theme of the show – I’ll make sure I avoid the beef), have The Sound of Music (what a hoot, must practice my lines…) booked for April, Avenue Q for May, it’s all so... theatrical.

In a previous blog entry I was mournfully nagging on about how I didn’t have any holidays booked – I may not have time to fit any in if I keep on at this rate!

Currently polishing off a delicious mocha. I’m not sure how that fits in with a healthier lifestyle though. I’ll make up for it later by having less tonic in my gin.

Update.... I've just had a small mountain (let's call it a hillock) of Marks & Spencer Fizzy Fish. The sugar rush is incredible. I think I should feel guilty about scoffing unhealthy, waistband expanding goodies but the unparalleled carbs high is sweeping away any such feelings on a fruit flavoured wave of giddiness and euphoria. Wow! I love sugar....

Pie

2007-01-16T15:42:00.000Z

Let’s talk pies. I like them.

‘nuff said. Then again. I don’t think I have said enough. Y’see, I’m kinda weird. I like my pies cold. Is that too unpleasant for the discerning pastry connoisseurs amongst you to even consider? It makes my friends heave. They all like their pies toasty warm and straight from the oven/microwave/appropriate heating device. I on the other hand, prefer them to be cold so that all the insides have set a bit. Actually, now that I read that last line it sounds totally repellent. Perhaps we should stop talking about pies….

OK. Let’s move on to other stuff. Half way through January and I’m still happily coasting along with my new trying-to-eat-healthily-and-do-more-exercise plan. I’m experiencing a slight loosening of the trouser and I’ve now managed to clear all of the dreadful junk food out of my house (by eating most of it all at once – job done!)
I’m also feeling a sense of inner-smugness that I’m managing to continue with my project. I have to say though, that this feeling only comes over me when I have just finished exercising - before the aches & pains set in. Pre-exercise, I only feel dread and terror. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy it. I’m slightly in awe of those people who spring around, confidently clad in lycra and without any irony or embarrassment. Just the idea of pulling on any kind of stretchy outfit sends me to the kitchen in search of something chewably cakey. I must add that I’m not some kind of man-mountain addicted to baked goods and pastry. I do have to make sure that I don’t go completely off the rails though and I’m always teetering at the edge of the overindulgence abyss!

Heavens! Work awaits and my inbox is now overflowing uncontrollably.

Blog soon…

January Blues…

2007-01-08T14:01:00.000Z

If I were more musical – actually, that implies that I’m slightly musical, sadly I’m not even minimally gifted – I’d put together some mournful, jazzy number filled with lonely sax solos to fully express how gloomy I’m finding it all at the moment. Normally at this time of year I’d have lots of stuff planned and holidays booked that I can look forward to. This year there has been some enormous cosmic (or maybe, possibly mine...) oversight and I find myself starting a new year literally empty of everything apart from work!! How bleak.

Any suggestions or ideas would come in very handy. The other half and I are thinking a week in Provence might be nice. France is on our doorstep, so we often overlook it for holiday purposes but we’ve decided to investigate further. A bit of sunshine and a chance to brush up on my dreadful French would be quite fun. Add to that cheap wine and basketfuls of baguettes et fromage and you’ve got yourself a cheeky holiday surprise! Well, that’s the plan anyway.

I’d like something long haul at some point this year too. Not sure what that’s going to be but following the wine theme above, the other half has expressed an interest in the Napa Valley. It’s been ages since I’ve visited California and a trip to San Francisco is now well overdue. The other half has never been to San Francisco so it’d be great to pay the city a visit. A walk across the Golden Gate bridge to blow the cobwebs away and a walk into the Castro to blow... scratch that thought.

Whilst chatting on about wine… I bought the other half a lease of some vines at a Kent vineyard for 3 years as a Christmas present. The reception to this gift was much better than I expected so I’m really pleased. I wasn’t sure if it would make a good gift or not. Apparently it does. I’ve been reliably informed – any of you reading this who are better in the know, please feel free to drop a line and correct – that the Kent vineyards have similar soil to that of the Champagne region and thanks to global warming, the wine there is improving by the year. I may have to encourage the other half to build on the wine lease idea, go crazy, buy land and start planting like mad! Wow! That’d be just like Falcon Crest…. It’d have to be called something different tho as the UK wouldn’t be able to support anything with such a name. We’d have to call it Pigeon Hill or Crow End.
Ooh! The glamour...

Tuna Sandwich

2007-01-02T13:10:00.000Z

It’s weird, and I never thought I’d hear myself say it, but I’m so relieved to be eating a tuna sandwich today. After a punishing few weeks of festive food binge, I’m so, so pleased to be eating normal stuff again. At last my trousers will begin to loosen and there will be no major sucking in before fastening.

Christmas and New Year were great – Christmas with my family was brilliant and I got to spend time with my niece and nephew who are far too full of energy. Then New Year at some friends’ cottage in the Kent countryside was very grown up and relaxing, plus I got to eat major amounts of fabulous food.

I’m still full. The queasiness is only just beginning to diminish. Obviously, like 80% of the rest of the western world, I’m now embarking on a healthy eating programme and intend to throw myself enthusiastically into exercise. The reality of my last statement will be that I shall consider scoffing one piece of cake and one chocolate bar/biscuit as ‘cutting down’ and my exercise regime will consist of spending a lot of time deciding what form of strenuous activity to take up and then become stranded on the sofa feeling guilty about not doing any of it!

Still, the above process will be consistent with previous years so it’s comforting to know that I’ve been here before and coped adequately.

I’m considering not drinking any alcohol in January but that is still under review as I’ve got a few events coming up that may require a cheeky snifter or two…