Missing The Little Things

Knowing I did the right thing does not mean I won't regret having to do it.  I've just got into work and realised that I won't be getting any more little emails from him during the day - seeing one from a couple of days ago still lurking in my inbox gave me a little moment of regret.

In the weirdest twist, it was the Aussie Surfer who was offering me the shoulder to cry on if needed last night.  A couple of days ago, we were dating too, and somewhere along the line the transition to friend was fast and total.  As it happened, Hannah stepped up to that mark, and there was a lot of wine and millionaire shortbread last night, but the offer was still appreciated, if unexpected.  I do feel a little like a bad rom-com plot at the moment though!

The Deed Is Done

Well, I've done it. As 1 minute and 26 second conversations go, it was horrible. How can I feel so bad in such a short time? The basics were said, and then I ran out of words. I tried to explain but I couldn't get past "you're great, but the spark has gone for me". I can only hope he feels better about this than I do.

So in the space of 24 hours, I've gone from seeing 2 men to none. That just leaves the unknown variable that is Army Guy left for tomorrow's surf club. Other than that - I'm back at square 1. Single.

I realised as I walked home from work why I've agonised over breaking with City Boy and it boils down to this - in the space of 2 months I've become used to the security blanket that is having admiration and affection from a constant source. I've felt great about myself, because something external has been reinforcing that I'm attractive and fun to spend time with.

I just need to bear in mind that I have not changed in the last 24 hours - I am still that worthwhile person. It's just that my situation has changed.


- Posted from my iPhone

Totally Confused

I am completely and utterly confused.

As an official relationship dunce (i.e. I usually run screaming in the opposite direction of potential interested men), this whole making-an-effort thing is crippling me.  With doubts.  With second guessing.  With the temptation to cheat and just settle.

I never got why some people would rather be in any relationship than alone.  I was happy to be by myself.  Well, not happy - obviously, I wanted to find that one special person that everything would be magic with (yeah, I've watched too many cute American rom-coms, I admit it), but until then I wasn't willing to compromise.

So when it wasn't perfect, I'd go.  Make myself scarce, pull away, and run.  No connections, no consideration, just go.  Why be vulnerable if it wasn't absolutely worth it.  Or necessary.

This time round in the dating arena, I've taken a slightly different approach.  As counselled by various friends, I've given my dates more of a chance.  Unless I was absolutely sure they weren't right for me on the first date (sorry Ed!), I've seen them again.  Some made it to the third date, and I knew, and they went.

Here's something you might not know about me: I absolutely hate dumping people.  Seriously hate it.  I agonise over it, not wanting to hurt their feelings.  Always have, and I suspect I always will.  Even after a third date, I feel bad about it.  I put it off, knowing it's inevitable, but thinking it might just happen of its own accord anyway.  Usually during that time, I manage to dig myself in deeper instead, and ultimately make it a little tiny bit harder for myself.  That's why getting involved with people sucks - there's always dumping in there somewhere.

I can honestly say that I would much prefer to be dumped that have to do it.  True - it's only happened once, but I could see it coming as soon as the phone call began, and I was able to make it easy for him, and painless for both of us, and I'm not kidding when say I could hear the utter relief in his voice.  Other than that, I fear I turn into a manipulator who gently prods the situation into a mutual decision to end it, by distancing myself.

Now, however, I find myself for the first time, in a situation where I've lost count of how many dates we've been on - in fact, scrap "dates" because going round to theirs for Sunday roast and tv doesn't even count as that .... it's in the scary unknown territory that's fearfully close to "relationship".  It's a slipperly slope that I'm teetering at the top of, and I'm lost.  It should be easy from here, just to gracefully step forward and slide into something comfortable, but I can't make myself do it.  This guy, City Boy, treats me so well, like a princess; he is complimentary, caring, and I'm convinced would be the perfect boyfriend.  But my heart's not there in it. How can it be fair on him, when I'm constantly wondering if there's something better out there for me?  When I'm already picking holes and problems in it?  When I've already decided that he won't get on with my friends and we don't have enough in common?

Here's the rub - I'm now starting to understand those relationship junkies, I think.  It's not the relationship that's addictive, as such.  It's the feeling of being spoilt and cosseted and wanted and desired.  It's so tempting to keep seeing him, and let him continue to like me and treat me well, while I keep an eye on what else there is.  But I can't, because that is not at all honest, and I am not a user.

I am stronger, and better, than that.  City Boy deserves more than that - what he's chasing in me, in our little "relationship" is a sham, because I'm not in the same place he is.  He should be able to search for someone who honestly feels the same way he does.  I should be big enough, and brave enough, to set him free to do that.

On the flip-side of the dating game, Aussie Surfer just texted me to say something similar.  He thinks I'm great, but isn't feeling the spark.  In our case, he asks can we be friends, and I find myself oddly relieved.  In all respects, I really should like him.  By which, I mean fancy the pants off him.  We have hilarious dates, similar humour and can chat absolute 100% honest bollocks for hours.  And then there's his accent which is awesome - is it wrong to fancy someone just because they're Australian?  But somehow, somewhere, it's just not quite there.  I felt a little disappointment when I read his text, but I think it was disappointment in myself for not being "there" not in his reaction.  In truth, I'm glad we can be friends, because I think it'll be a lot of fun.  And I can go surfing with him (maybe, if I ever actually learn how to surf properly).  Sod's law also dictates that I end up fancying him now, because the pressure to do so has gone.

So somehow, in the space of one evening, I've gone from worrying about 3 blokes to just dealing with one.

The one left is Army Guy.  We got on really well on the first date, but yet again, it felt like a bit of a lack of spark.  What I can't work out with him though, is whether that was at least partly due to the fact that we'd chatted a lot online and by text before we actually met, which usually means there's a big preconception to be dismantled when you meet them in person, and also due to the fact that I was already worrying / agonising about the City Boy / Aussie Surfer situation and what I should do.

Army Guy has joined my surf club, which I already knew before the first date.  We agreed at that point, that if the dating didn't work, we'd just be friends, because we'd be seeing each other around the club.  I haven't seen him since the first date, but funny enough we've chatted fairly incessantly.  I guess we'll see how that translates into a second meeting on Thursday.

****

After a quick mid-post phone call to my friend, she concurs that I need to do the honest thing with City Boy and finish it now.  Tomorrow is D-Day, when I'll have to phone and tell him.  It's going to suck, but I need to do it.

And then there will be one.

The is-it-or-isn't-it date

I have a bit of a conundrum - tomorrow night I'm meeting a friend for a drink. Or is it a date? I'm totally unsure!

We know each other through mutual friends, but have never really been close friends ourselves. He moved to Cheltenham, just before I moved to Bristol, and although we said we'd stay in contact, he actually has. And then he's followed up on going for a drink. Xmas markets and mulled wine. And how about dinner too?

Is this a date? Or a friendly drink??

I guess it will be a surprise! I get on well with him though, and I'm not averse to seeing how things go, so I'm going into it open-minded. He's fun, he's smart, he's a bit younger than me but very mature, and he dresses well (Geek Chic anyone?) - what's to lose?

Other than that, I'm continuing to find my feet in Bristol. I'm starting to work out where everything is, and the flat's starting to look a little more like home (although there's still a mess of stuff that needs to be put away - surprise, surprise). This weekend I get to play hostess for the first time to my friend B who's coming down for the weekend.

So between the drink with Geek Chic tomorrow, a weekend of girliness with B and still being on tenterhooks to hear from the Vet again (we're still messaging, but not as frequently as I'd like - he's supposedly been working absolutely flat out though, so we'll see what happens now he's a bit quieter), it's a busy old week.

Had a lovely weekend in Brussels - it turns out that after 30 the hangovers get worse - who knew? That aside, I enjoyed spending time with C, who I lived with at uni, and spending time with her friends from the European Parliament and see a bit of what looks like a very pretty city ... hopefully I'll be less hungover next time I get out there!

Never the one you want.

Life is so typical – the Vet won’t call, despite me using my not inconsiderable powers of wishing that he would (oh yeah – that doesn’t work in the Real World does it?), but at least I found the willpower to turn down an invitation from the Boy Wonder last night …. even if it was simply on the grounds that I needed sleep badly.

It’s a bit like buses ….

After months (oh well, let’s be honest, years??) of pretty much zero happening on the man / gossip front, I now seem to be in the midst of a mini-glut.

Yesterday we went for a tour of our new office, and I was surprised, and yes, a little pleased, to clock a guy clocking me. A fiull-on head-to-toe evaluation followed by a proper cheeky grin. This girl’s head was held high as she left the office.

And last night during the drunken carnage of a particularly lively fund-raising event (I’ll set the scene, there were lots of Sambuca shots with a cocktail chaser, and for some reason most of the guys on the dance-floor had lost their shirts ….), I somehow picked up was picked up by a rather tasty vet. A vet who has biceps of steel because he’s the kind of dude who rows across the Atlantic Ocean for charity. No, I’m not actually kidding. Good times ensued.

The only dilemma is that I had to shoot off home early this morning to go and meet my current landlord for a flat inspection, and since the poor lamb was absolutely spark out as I left, I didn’t get his phone number. Alternative means of making subsequent contact are currently being attempted, I can assure you. Those biceps are waaaaaaay too nice to be allowed to get away!

It’s never bloody simple is it?

Dahab photos

I thought I'd put a few photos up from my week spent windsurfing in Egypt. Unfortunately, you won't see any shots of me on a board on here yet, as any of those are on friends' cameras, which I haven't had time to raid yet!

Playing pool with the instructors on the first night at the beach bar - they very nearly whooped our asses (probably because they knew about the cheat-y back cushion that stopped all balls dead instead of rebounding them, and the fact that middle pocket shots were impossible on the left side due somebody having clonked the sides of the table out of a straight line - it was pool Dahab-stylee, as so much stuff is out there!)


Jo heading out to sea on the first morning with the red sail.


Jo and I up by the kite-surf lagoon at the other end of the beach after a nice walk - see the ugly fence - not sure whether that's to keep the windsurfing nutters in, or the kite-surfing ones out!


Self-explanatory .... mmmmmm, shisha pipes!!


The first appearance of the dreaded fish-bowls - think this one was mojito - and Jo and Lucy get stuck in. I felt ROUGH the morning after this!


Everything seems funny after fish-bowls .... even Mike the instructor!


Alarm ... spot the "cool" windsurf-ering "dudes", or the drunk ones at least.


View from our balcony at the hotel ... not that we spend much time out here, apart from collecting our dried out kit each morning, and the occasional cheeky vodka and coke from our stash, at dusk before dinner.


Elvis ... last seen windsurfing ...


... and heading out to sea .... this was one of our friends from a group from Manchester, who we also met last year. Great bunch.


Just before the "can we fit 5 people on one windsurfer" experiment began. The answer was yes, but they couldn't actually sail anywhere. They had fun trying though, as you can see from Jo's mischievous grin in the middle there.


Cat / dog standoff on the beach. The resident bar cat wasn't having any of it and was not giving any ground ... the beach dog just thought it was amusing to wind the cat up, and was having a great time!


Jo, and new friends Duncan and Steph at the beach.


Me, taking it easy.


Baby Bay the day Duncan and I waded across the lagoon to watch the big boys show us how it's done. UK Freestyle champ Andy "Bubble" Chambers had just arrived back at Club Vass to coach, so it was cool to watch them all doing their thing.


James and Sala, ably demonstrating that even instructors can look wildly uncool when they try and dance, the night of the closing party.


Us rowdy lot, being, well, rowdy ... and drunk ... at the closing party! In case you're wondering, the fancy dress theme was Egyption Gangsta ... don't ask ...


My poor foot after I rammed it over some rocks in the lagoon whilst attempting to windsurf in force 7 winds. Ouch. That whole funny 3 sided empty outline under the top scab is a missing chunk of skin.


And so endeth a fab holiday!

The Wanderer Returns

I'm absolutely gutted that my trip has flown past already, and I'm now back once again in the dreary UK, feeling more restless than ever.

We had an absolutely amazing week out in Dahab, with some absolutely howling winds for windsurfing. Generally, everything went pretty smoothly - the flights were a bit longer than expected, but not majorly delayed and there weren't any major problems during the week.

I've definitely learnt plenty of stuff this week: I've been using a smaller board all week and have finally graduated away from the daggerboard (been a long time coming), my beachstarts are now consistent, even in strong winds, I've been using my harness more, going quicker and starting to plane, and my sailing is generally more stable. Basically, I've got safer, stronger and quicker.

I also realised how much I wish I'd sailed regularly throughout the year, where I've allowed myself to get distracted by mountain-biking, the gym and learning to run. Jo said the same and we've both vowed to make sure we get some decent time in on the water this coming year, including a couple of weekends away if possible. I also want to give kite-surfing and wake-boarding a crack now I'm finally feeling better about my weight, and much fitter to boot.

We got lucky again this trip with the people we were there with. We were a bit worried before we went that it would be a bit of a let down this year, because the people we met last year were so nice, but we had an absolutely ace bunch again this year, including one big group we met last year!

I always feel sad saying goodbye to people at the end of the week, as we all form such a strong bond over the week. We live in each other's pockets for the week - meals together, on the beach together, lessons together and then out together in the evening, either in the beach bar or out in town. They feel like your best friends by the end of the week, but experience says that we don't really stay in contact once we're back in the UK.

The other thing that always gets me is the instructors. I'm so incredibly jealous of them as they are living their lives doing exactly what they love doing in amazing locations around the world. They seem so young and glamorous and cool and have so much fun, and I just wonder what the hell I'm doing wasting my life being miserable. It feels a bit like I live most of my life in a grey fog, and it lifts when I'm away on these holidays, only to come back stronger then ever when I get home. I'm seriously considering how I can jack it all in and go and have some adventures before it's too late!!

What else happened this week? We had a couple of wild nights out, I picked up a stomach bug mid-week which flattened me for about 36 hours - annoying but it happens, got picked up by the rescue boat several times, broke my rig twice on the final day (it's slightly disconcerting when you surface after a wipe-out, grab your board and find that your sail is no longer attached but floating about 15 feet away!), and generally gathered an impressive collection of scrapes, bumps, cuts, bruises and mosquito bites over the week, including getting smashed in the face by a sail in high wind resulting in a nosebleed.

All in all it was an absolutely freaking awesome holiday and I cannot WAIT to go back. Photos to follow, along with life plans to drop out and go and do something more fun with my life whilst I'm stil vaguely young!


-- Posted from my iPhone

A pit of despair

I'm not quite sure what's up with me at the moment, but I have to confess I'm feeling pretty low about my life. It sounds so stupid, as I honestly recognise that there's so much that could be worse for me ... and I mean seriously worse ... and yet here I am, in the middle of a great big slump I can't explain.

I forgive you now, if you don't feel like reading on to see how seriously self-pitying this gets!

There are so many things I thought I would have achieved by the time I was 30. Maybe my impending 29th birthday is what has triggered this, but I think I've been feeling restless for a while now.

Things I thought I would have achieved by 30:

• A sucessful career that I both enjoyed and was damn good at, earning over £50k a year.
• Be on the property ladder in my own house / flat.
• In a stable relationship with some nice guy.
  

Maybe that list sounds incredibly conceited to you, but I really, really thought, as I was leaving school and then uni, that all those things were completely realistic. And how many have I achieved?

Precisely none of them.

And how many of them have my friends achieved? For the most part, at least 2 out of 3. At the very least, they've all managed at least 1 of them, whilst I flounder around feeling like a bloody failure.

I have a good-enough career, but it just didn't pan out the way I thought it would. Even though I secured the same graduate jobs that my most sucessful friends did, my career has been up and down whilst theirs soared away to the giddy heights I thought mine would. This has been bought home to me this week by an email conversation with my old schoolfriend Koks, who is just about to start another glamorous new job as an investment fund manager for a media investments company in Soho, London. At a conservative guess probably on about £60k a year. And me? I work in finance too, but can't seem to apply myself to it the way my friends do to their jobs ... and consequently, I don't feel like I'm going anywhere fast, and I'm frequently unhappy in my job. Or at the very least unsatisfied.

I've proven to be a disaster with my money. I left uni with debt, and despite earning a relatively good salary, I'm in more debt now than I've ever been. How can I be an accountant that can't manage her own money?? Owning property looks to be further away from me than ever, and the only way it looks viable right now is waiting for inheritances ... that sounds dreadful doesn't it? Whilst my friends jump onto the ladder fairly easily with joint mortgages with partners, I plan my future based on my solo salary (since right now I can't see any potential for anything else) and wince.

Which brings me to my final failure. And please don't get me wrong - I'm not a total bunny-boiler, man-eating, romantic idiot, but I'm getting mighty disillusioned about love. Or ever finding anyone. It's literally been several years since anyone showed any interest in me. Do you know what that does to a girl's self-esteem? I actually seriously wonder what's wrong with me that I just don't seem to be at all attractive to the opposite sex. Long term relationships have never featured in my life, but recently, neither do short term ones. And logically, since I've lost several stone in the last year, you'd have thought things would start to pick up; that I'd see at least a spark of interest from someone, but no.

Friends tell me (I had this same old discussion with Bec last night in the car) that you find someone when you least expect it, when you're not looking, and then, in the same conversation, that I don't put myself out there enough, that I don't chase after guys, or make a move. I'm confused - which is it? Am I supposed to back off, and try and forget about the fact I feel desperately unattractive right now? Or throw myself at every man until one responds? God, I'm confused. Maybe I should just learn the lesson that talking to people who are smugly settled in long term relationsips is not a productive thing to do.

I think what this all boils down to, is my fear of the future. I don't think I'm so worried about not getting married / having children from a point of view of not feeling fulfilled. I think my feelings of failure on my 3 goals are firmly rooted in my morbid fear of being lonely and poor in the future. I have a small family, tiny really. There's pretty much just my dad and my grandma that I know well. Grandma's 94 and Dad's 70, and I worry about both of their health. I'm 28. There will come a point in the not so distant future when they are gone, and I will have no close family left. The way I see it, or fear it, happening - I'll be on my own, still precariously renting and balancing my financial fortunes on a knife-edge, and all my friends will be married, with kids, and thus totally absorbed in their own lives. I'm terrified that I will be left behind and lonely. I can't tell you how the thought of Christmas's alone depresses me. Holidays on my own. Old age on my own.

This week, I've been unable to stop thinking about it. Maybe because it's largely beyond my control. Even if I can get the money thing sorted ... money can't buy you love, huh?

I'm talking myself into an emotional funk, I'm going to stop now. Yes, I being sad and pathetic, but this is what is weighing on my mind this week.

Phew - Flat Stress Over!!

I am so, sooooo relieved. My friend Sheena texted me yesterday afternoon to ask what the situation was with my current flatmate moving out, and whether I wanted to meet for coffee today. We've briefly discussed the possibility of her moving into the flat over the past couple of months, but she wasn't sure what her current flatmate was up to in regards to moving in with her boyfriend, as it was on the cards, but the timing was unclear. You can therefore imagine, that I've been on tenterhooks for the last 24 hours, wandering (and hoping) if she was going to say it was a go for moving in together.

And it is!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Whooooooooop!!

For once in my life, the gods are being kind and a housing situation has resolved itself nicely. Sheena's hoping to move in just before Xmas. I'm so pleased as she's going to be an ace flatmate, and we get on really, really well, but also because it's such a worry off my mind and means I can keep my flat which I love. That's a total bonus as I was quite prepared to move to another flat if she wanted to, but she actively wants to move in here - awesome!!

I'll prob have a month therefore where I have to cover rent and bills on my own, as we don't think we're going to quite be able to synch their flat's notice period up with ours, but that's not a problem as I want to ask the landlord about redecorating the 2nd bedroom anyway, as the wallpaper's started to peel off and it could do with a lick of paint. I'm thinking that if I offer to do the redecoration for them they may well let me just pay half rent that month anyway, or at least a reduced rent (especially as they're mortgage was paid off years ago, and they've had 5 years of my friends and I renting from them and successively finding them new tenants as we go). It's totally a case of "don't ask, don't get", so I'll put it out there and see what they say. It's all very exciting anyway, and means that my money situation now looks far healthier, and I don't have to feel guilty about juggling my finances round so I can go skiing in January. Extra wahoooooo!!

Had an awesome weekend with the girls, Hannah and Bec, and now just feeling a bit shattered back in my flat, and trying to summon some energy to do any of the tasks that need sorting. Of which there are many!

Feeling a bit abandoned

I'm feeling pretty emotional right now. One of my colleagues at work is retiring and he's the darling of the department. Everyone's gutted to see him go as he's been here 40 years and there's a lot of tears and lumps in throats right now as he says goodbye.

On top of that I've just been hot with a load if stress as I've just had an email from my soon to be ex-flatmate who's just let me know that despite the fact that the tenancy on the flat isn't up til the end of the month, she's cancelled the landline as of Monday! I'm probably going to take on the tenancy on my own for a while but the email notice only went to the landlord yesterday, and I haven't even spoken to them about a new lease yet, so how the bloody hell does she expect me to just renew the phone contract. So bloody selfish. She moved out down to her boyfriends months ago but she's carried on renting because they didn't have enough space for all her stuff down at his straight away. She's done everything without consulting me at all, and I just feels bit abused by the whole situation because for months now I've just been in a kind of limbo waiting for her to make her next move and let me know where I stand.

Final stress at the moment? I'm trying to sort out my birthday celebrations for next month, and very few people can seem to be arsed to make te effort, which leaves me feeling super popular. A friend of a friend who we know a little has her birthday a couple of days before mine and is celebrating her 30th the same weekend as my birthday. Virtually all of my close friends have been invited and have chosen to attend which leaves me with virtually nobody around on my actual birthday. Frankly it makes me feel like shit because I can't help feeling like they've picked her over me because she's so much more fun, since at least half of them know me much better than her. Then there's the fact that every other bugger seems to be busy already that weekend with more fun people than me. It's denting my confidence.

Ah hell, I'm trying so hard not to be stupid about all of this but I'm letting it get to me.


-- Posted from my iPhone

Scones and Stress

I decided to try and make scones yesterday, which pretty much turned out
to be a comedy of errors. They were from my healthy baking book, and
were supposed to be Honey, Sunflower and Ginger Scones ... however
that's not quite how they turned out.

First, I checked the recipe, and realised that I didn't have the
required cookie cutter, or baking parchment, or the right flour. Quick
trip to the supermarket and that was sorted. Then - in my usual
dappiness - I was well into measuring stuff out before I got to carrots
(yes, there really are carrots in this recipe) and realised that I
didn't have enough of them. Elementary mistake. Quick trip round to
the boys next door to liberate a carrot from their fridge.

Next, I'm completely baffled by the food processor (which isn't mine,
but my flatmates). Does one use the the dough mixing thingy, or the
choppy blades? Which is after it's taken me a good 10 mins to find the
clever little storage compartment that hides both of the above! I chose
the mixing attachment.

After finally getting all the ingredients in the bowl, it then takes me
another 5 mins at least to work out how to switch the damn thing on. I
can tell you that by this point I'm regretting the whole endeavour!
Eventually, I work out that you have the clip the lid of the mixing bowl
right round until it clicks a second time, and finally we have lift off!
Now - how many is a "good few pulses"?????

Then realise, that unless I swap to the choppy blades, my sunflower
seeds are going to be left whole, so swap blades.

I'm left with a mess of "dough" that is ridiculously sticky, and
immediately coats my hands when I lift it out ..... surely this can't be
right, can it?

Recipe says roll it out to 4 cm's thick and cut out the first 8 scones.
Errrrrr ..... if I roll it to that thickness, I'm going to get one
scone! Something's gone very wrong, I think.

Settle for rolling out to a much thinner depth and cutting out the 10
scones the recipe calls for. Put them in the oven with much trepidation,
and 17 mins later, there's something that at least smells like ginger
scones, even if they're a little on pygmy side of normal scone
dimensions!

Thankfully, they actually tasted ok, but I definitely need to practice
this one a bit I think!!

Later that night - just as I'm switching off lights to head to bed, I
discovered that the freezer door was open, and must have been that way
for at least 3 hours .... d'oh!!!

This morning has kicked off with stress, stress and more stress - I'm
covering someone elses work while they're on holiday, and it turns out
to be the morning when everyone is late with the info I need, and the
colour printers are broken! Arrrrrrgh! Cue me, running round up and
down the office, and through to the neighbouring one to sort out
numbers, find alternative printers, and finally speed-walk across campus
to take the late reports over to the site's exec meeting. Not the best
start to the week!!

The matchmakers are at work again

Beer festival today - slightly worried as Sheena announced in the pub last night that she is overly excited about introducing me to a single colleague of hers. I don't know who's worse sometimes for wanting to fix you up and get you off the streets of singledom (for everybody knows that a girl not in posession of a relationship must be in need of a boyfriend, apparently) - the friends who are already all relationshipped up, or the single ones who are looking for someone themselves.

In other disturbing news, I just found out the other day that my boss from work is up on the same dating website I am. Yuck. That feels a bit wrong somehow!

Hey ho - any gossip and I'll let you know!

Lazy Fridays

Tomorrow I'm going to a beer festival. Pretty hilarious for a non-beer drinker (watch me fall over drunk), but there's tons of friends going, including some back from abroad and others, friends of friends that I've heard so much about and have been wanting to meet for ages, so I'm going too. However, a different group of friends want me to go with them tonight. Or I can go to the pub for an extended session with the guys and girls who are in town for tomorrow's session. I think the pub, else it's all just going to get too complicated.

Other than that, it's a nice quiet day today. The office is pretty dead, and the stress of the deadlines of the last couple of days seems to have calmed down, so I'm just pottering through what needs to be done.

I need to mooch into town this afternoon to get some Kuna for Croatia - more random currency - and perhaps the smallest of looks round the shops as I saw something in a shop window the other day that I really liked. Such a magpie when it comes to pretty things. Hopefully, I'll have time to head up for a walk on the hills for a bit after that and before dinner / pub. I could really do with the fresh air, thinking time and the views are stunning up there.

The storm after the lull, after the storm

Not a lot has really been happening the last couple of weeks. Scotland was absolutely awesome, but coming back is always a complete anti-climax. I hate how the stress of everyday life always starts to encroach on the last couple of days of the holiday, even though I try hard not to let it do so.

Anyhoo - Scotland was great in several ways. I had a rare chance to completely catch up on my sleep with nothing to drag me out in the mornings that I didn't want to be doing. I had time to sit and do absolutely nothing if that was what took my fancy, and enjoyed spending time just sitting round and reading, or doing puzzles, and whiled away many a happy hour playing goofy board games with friends.

The weather was fantastic, and with all the extra energy stemming from my weight loss, it was a great chance to get out and walk and run, bike and row the little boat out to nearby islands.

It was a fantastic opportunity to really catch up with friends, including some I don't see so often, and to finally meet people I've been hearing about for ages - like the infamous Ali, who I always seem to just miss at all previous social gatherings. He was hilarious, high-octane (knackering) fun, so I'm glad I finally had the chance to meet the man behind the legend. And then I got to meet new people. One in particular, I was very glad to have had the chance to meet - the lovely Andy. It's been ages since I really felt attracted to someone on all levels, but I think I was fairly smitten by the second day or thereabouts. Funny, tall, attractive, scarily intelligent, and so, so nice. Sadly, nothing happened. I'd love to say, that just occasionally, I got hints that maybe he wasn't entirely averse to me, but I have no idea if that's true or just me imagining things. Either way, he was lovely, and I look forward to the next time our paths cross.

Other than that, we ate like kings, drank like fishes and generally, much fun was had.

And so, after a few quiet weeks at home, not doing too much, it's now almost holiday time again! My bank balance is definitely suffering a bit by this point in my holidays-packed summer, but this is the last one, and it's going to be awesome. I'm shipping out with the girls, Lissa and Jo, to Croatia, for a 10 day camping tour.

I'm still trying to sort the chaos from coming back from the last one, so now I've got to suck it up and get it sorted, and start the marathon of organising involved in packing for this next one.

I'm heading out to a beer festival on Saturday with a whole heap of friends, so Sunday is probably going to be semi-devoted to packing. And let's be realistic - I'll probably end up doing most of it Wednesday morning before going to the airport. lol

The best laid plans and all that

After all the umming and ahhing, I'd decided that I was going to London so I didn't let people down. Then on the way back to the cars after seeing Harry Potter last night (which incidentally, I was a bit disappointed with), Jo confessed that she wasn't really that bothered about going to the London party, as all she could think about was how little sleep she'd get, and was only going because I was.

WHAT ABOUT ME????? I'm going to get the same amount of sleep and then have to do a mega 12 hour drive the next day!!!!!

Ugh. So now I don't know if we're still going, or if it's going to get sacked off. I want a plan, folks! Just one little plan, so I know one way or the other what I'm meant to be doing. Too difficult???

So anyway, I'm going to pack and get ready, and now I'm just waiting to know if I'm driving to London with Jo this afternoon, or just heading straight to Scotland, following the other guys who are going to be setting off in just under an hours time. Muchos annoying, as if I'd known I could have gone in convoy with them.

Gaaaah!

Some kind-a organisation

Well, I've kind of got a little bit organised now - i.e. I've managed to do some of the washing, and I've thought about making my packing list lol.

I'm totally down to my last pennies now, so the poor old credit card's taking a bit of a battering at the moment. I'm heading off to the cinema tonight with Jo to see Harry Potter - I'm a big kid and I can't freakin' wait!! In the spirit of being a good little money-saver though, I refused to go out for dinner because that would be yet one more hit to the credit card.

So as soon as work's done I'm heading off for lunch with my lovely Daddy, then a couple of hours packing at home, then cinema, bed and pack, pack, pack like a demon in the morning! Jo'll be over about lunchtime and we'll tootle off down to London in the car. Then it's PAAAAAR-TAAAAY!! into the early hours of Sunday.

Sleep, detox, hangover, veeeeeeeeery long drive ...... and collapse in Scotland. Probably for further drinking on Sunday evening. I can't tell you how good a week of doing nothing but what I want to do sounds right now! Lots of sleep, lots of sitting around, good books to read, might go to the beach if the weather's nice, take my mountain bike out and get muddy, bit of wind-surfing hopefully and practice my beach-starts and wave-sailing. Good food, lots of drink and most excellent company. Heav-en.

Lots to do before I get there though!

Living the (non) simple life

Well, just because I don't like a simple life, I'm going to the party in London, and will then be attempting the epic marathon of a 10 hour (minimum) drive up North with a hangover on Sunday. Nice.

I'm also in the extreme last stages (think dying fish, gasping it's last) of poverty, given that I don't get paid til Monday, and I tells ya, it's a massive pain in the ass.

Given that it's now Thursday, and I'm meant to be leaving Saturday, I'm guessing you'll be not at all surprised that I have in no way, shape or form, started the packing yet! Haven't even started the washing. Nothing like good ol' procrastination, leaving it all til the last moment!

I'm also probably going to get in to trouble on Sat, as in theory the party is a jungle theme, but given time, money, and pride constraints I'm opting to not go full on dressed up, and to instead actually attempt to look sex-ay. Mostly because I know from previous experience that there are bound to be quite a few good-looking men at the party. Me? Shallow? Like a puddle.

So in between then and now, I shall be washing, making lists, throwing stuff around my room in an attempt to find shit, packing, unpacking because I've got too much shit in my bag, unpacking again because I can't remember whether I already put x in, and just generally having a massive panic right up til the last minute. I effing hate packing, hence the delaying tactics!

Also, to be quite honest, my bedroom is the biggest pigsty you've ever seen. Perhaps I should post a photo, to shame myself into action to tidy it??

I haven't been up to much this week, apart from going to the gym, and being lured out on a spontaneous pub visit last with Bridget and the boys, but somehow that's left me with very little time left over. Which would probably explain the state of my room, since I'm usually in and out just to get a change of clothes and then shoot off out again.

Watch this space to see how much chaos unfolds in my attempts to get ready for holiday! :o)

Stuck on the horns of dilemma

I'm meant to be going on holiday this weekend, but as per usual, I've way over-complicated stuff.

It goes like this - next week is The Amazing Scotland Adventure 2009™. This is 2 weeks in the far, remote West coast of Scotland at a friends place that happens every year. The cottage is basic, but once a year a whole group of us pile up there for an extended session of drinking, windsurfing, mountain-biking, walking, fishing in the rowing boat, playing on the stunning beach 10 mins from the cottage, and generally leaving the cares and stresses of daily life behind. I'm doing the first week this year and it kicks off on Sat.

Also this weekend is my friend, Kok's, legendary once a year house-party in London. They have a big house in Clapham and every summer an eclectic, interesting, beautiful crowd of people descend for one night of intense partying.

Problem - both of them are start Saturday.

Bollocks!!

So the dilemma is this - do I head up to Scotland with everyone else on Sat, and miss the party? This means I can travel in convoy, share the driving, but ultimately miss out on a cracking night and a chance to catch up with friends I see very rarely. Or do I go down to London, party on Sat night, and then do a solitary drive to Scotland on Sunday. With the additional distance from London, the drive is 9 hours, assuming perfect traffic and no breaks. So realistically you're looking at 11-12 hours driving time. With a hangover and sleep deprivation.

Originally, Hannah, who's also going to Scotland, was going to a ball in Cambridge on Sat night, so I was going to collect her on Sunday morning and we'd drive it together, but the person she was going with has let her down.

I've looked at planes and trains to get to Scotland, but nothing really works - or nothing I can afford anyway, so I'm still stuck for what to do.

Damn everything being the same weekend!!!

A day at the races

My friend, Koks, had her birthday over the weekend. When I asked her what she'd been up to, she said that her boyfriend and his father had taken her out on their yacht on Sunday and sailed her over to the Isle of Wight just for lunch (they all live down South, in and around London). He'd also bought her tasteful presents, and is taking her down to Cornwall to stay in a nice hotel for a weekend.

Seriously?? I want her life. And possibly her boyfriend too - he is such a sweetie.

My weekend on the other hand was full of horse-racing, drinking and driving round a lot. Oh, and some jumping up and down screaming gleefully when my horses did the honourable thing and came home in the right order.

The occasion - a different friend's birthday (the lovely Phil), and her choice of venue - Ascot. I'd never been to Ascot before, in fact I've only been racing once before and that was at rural Worcester, so let me tell you - Ascot is mighty impressive by comparison. It almost seems bigger than the whole town, a gleaming expanse of glass and metal, and then the undulating green track beyond.

Since this wasn't Royal Ascot (which incidentally, I am soooooo going to next year), there wasn't a particular dress code to be observed, but lots of folk had still dressed themselves up their posh frocks for the day. I'm always amused on occasions like this to people watch - you've got the people who clearly grew up round these places, who wear conservative but effortless clothing and talk the talk. My friend Tony's new girlfriend Charlotte clearly falls into this category. They had posher tickets than us as Charlotte had been given them and asked to collect the prize on behalf of friends if their horse won - clearly she moves in more exalted circles than me! Nice girl though.

Then there are the people who like to think they move in those circles. Usually easily spotted because they've tried just that bit too hard with their dress. A lot of our party probably fell into that category - 4in stiletto sandals and a fluffy little summer dress are not practical when it's raining and you're on your feet all day - no matter how perty they look!

There are the hooray Henries, most of whom have turned up in jokey fancy dress, because for some reason the sons of rich farming and country families love a chance to dress up in drag or other silly fancy dress, bray loudly and drink far too much.

And finally, as always there are those girls who wear really ill-advised clothes, and cause the rest of us to shudder quietly. As a larger girl myself (although steadily shrinking), I'm always careful to check an outfit from all perspectives: to the girl in the minuscule green playsuit, and the other one in the crotch length dress - girls - I really, really did not need to know that much about to anatomically - and also, cellulite is best kept to yourself. Please.

And my bitching is over. lol.

It turns out my luck was in on Sat, and although I lost my bets in the first and third races, all my others (5 out of 7) produced at least one winning bet per race. I don't know what the odds on that are, but I'd say it was a pretty long shot! No big bets for me, as my previous whinging suggests I just don't have that kind of money to throw around, but a healthy little profit of £30 by the end of the day conveniently payed for dinner.

I will just say this about dinner - when you're not drinking so much (my alcohol intake is way down since I started this healthy living malarkey in Jan), it turns out that every other drunken yahoo is just way to irritating to contemplate. In other words, not drinking turns me into a grumpy bastard. Aside, from that minor point, it was a great evening, and Phil had a fabulous time, so the only person I really felt sorry for was the bus driver tasked with getting 16 very drunk and rowdy people home. Poor sod. :O)

Didn't sleep the best on Sat night, as 16 people in one 3 bed house is a lot of people and Sid and Hannah kept kicking me during the night (well, they kept trying to hug my feet, as for some off reason I was sleeping the opposite way round on the living room floor to everyone else), so I was quite glad to catch some kip on the long drive home on Sunday.

Now I'm back to work, and being deafened by the workmen who are currently dismantling about half our office around us - why the couldn't wait for the weekend I don't know!!

The wonderful Take That!

God, I'm bad at updating this blog - I've ended up doing two weekend's postings together because I never got round to finishing the first one off!!!

So, 1 week after Hard Rock Calling, I was back in London this weekend for Take That. A slight change of musical pace, I hear you say, but what can I tell you? I'm eclectic!

It turned out to be a long old day, just heading down to London, watching the concert, and then coming straight back again, but well worth it. Even if I was a total and utter zombie at work yesterday (Monday) as a result of severe sleep deficit!

Here's Jo and I waiting for the gig to start .... it seemed to take forever, although we were entertained by the rather good Lady Gaga - she can certainly sing your socks off live!



They are such a bunch of showmen - the gig was fantastic, from hot air balloons, a full complement of circus performers and 40ft flame jets, through to what was just some fantastic live singing and performing - it just blew me away. And the atmosphere was just ..... WOW!! Such a happy, upbeat, vibrant atmoshpere. 80,000 people in Wembley Stadium waving there arms in the air in perfect synchrnicity to Never Forget - just awesome!!





And now I'm back to another boring week in the office. Yay. Still, it's not long to the weekend, and then I'm off to Ascot to go to the horse races for the lovely Phil's 30th birthday celebrations. I haven't been racing for ever, so this a rare opportunity to indulge in a little guilt free gambling (low stakes only) and catch up with friend's who are now based down South and I don't get to see often. Whooop!

Hard Rock Calling

Last weekend was the much awaited trip to London for Hard Rock Calling. I've been looking forward to this, and just crossing my fingers that the weather would hold out for us.

Friday morning dawned .... and the hills were absolutely blanketed in cloud outside my window, heavy and ominous with rain. Where the friggin' hell did the promised heat wave go?? A quick check with friends already down South revealed that the weather was looking a bit better down that way, so I quickly packed a mixed bag of clothes and jumped in the car. 2 hours later I drove past Oxford and out of the rain, another hour and I was driving into sunny, sunny Clapham and expiring from heat exhaustion. RESULT!!! And god bless air-con! lol

After a bit of faffing at the boys' flat, during which time Tony managed to lose and then find again not one, but two, Oyster cards (tube passes), we set off across the common to the tube and ventured into central London under the sunniest of skies. Needless to say the tube was about a 1000 degrees and we then managed to turn ourselves around coming out of the Green Park tube and trying to work out which direction Hyde Park was in! However, we were finally able to employ the tried and tested method of "sea of humanity navigation", used by concert goers the world over - find the crowd and follow it!

It's such a trauma having to spend an afternoon in a gloriously sunny park with some cold beverages, gourmet burgers, about 10,000 of your closest friends / complete strangers, and some absolutely stonking music.

The Kooks rocked, The Killers - well they totally killed it, and a good time was generally had by all.

The only possible downer - when will Tony learn that "no" does in fact mean "no", not "I'm just playing with you and really, I'll turn round and tell you I want you any second now". It's one thing friend's being tactile because you're comfortable around each other. It's something else entirely when onlookers assume you're a couple from the possessive body language one person takes. And it really cramps my style, dammit!!

Sheesh. He's a good friend of mine, but really, his behaviour does push the limits of acceptable sometimes. Needless to say, I opted to stay in the spare room back at the boys' flat and avoid all possible misinterpretations of my behaviour.

It was good to see Pete and Chris again though (the flat's other residents and friends of mine) - I must have hit lucky, as it's very rare they're all around at the same time!

Is it bad?

Is it bad, that the more I work with this guy at work, and realise that the chit-chat about how ambitious he is, etc is true, the more I seem to find him pretty sexy?

Totally inappropriate. And pointless. Arse.

On the upside, I've actually been given some work to do at the moment that might just pique my interest and help me find a bit of motivation again. It's been a while coming, but just maybe there's light at the end of the tunnel. Either that or I'm about to be dumped in it way over my head.

Pity party for 1

I've wanted to write a post on this for a while, but at the same time I feel weak for writing it. That feeling like this, being a bit self-pitying about it, isn't something I really want to put out there.



I sometimes wonder what it is that's wrong with me. There must be something, because guys ... just don't like me. I mean they like me fine, as a friend - I have plenty of male friends. But when it comes down to things of a romantic nature, I am never that girl. It's just never me. They just don't seem to find me attractive.



It's a tough topic, because it's one that's so hard to be objective about. It's hard to objectively work out what it is that other's have that I don't have. At least there's cold comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one.



My friends seem to fall in to one of 3 categories:

• always in a stable relationship. On the very rare occasions that they break up with their other half, they seem to just spontaneously attract a new partner, and immediately settle down into a new, and stable, relationship. Generally, these are the ones who are now starting to get married.


• in and out of relationships, but can't seem to hold one down. An odd category, these ones. They used to be in a stable relationship. They're generally the most successful and beautiful of my friends, and they don't seem to be able to hang on to a guy. They have a stream of relationships with sucessful, good-looking guys, but then they're always single again.


• the perpetually single. That'll be my category then. Historically, not a long term relationship in sight. And dates are few and far between. Whilst the others just seem to naturally meet guys who want to go on a date with them, the only dates we get are the ones we make an effort to get through a dating website or similar. We meet people, but they're just not interested in us - always our friends, but never us.

We're not particularly ugly, or terrible people. We have good jobs, and fun lives, and yet there is a spectactular lack of men on the horizon for us.

Are we doomed to be single forever?

Ouch, ouch, ouch

I'm just tottering along through life at the moment.

I do literally mean tottering by the way - I'm reeeeally stiff after Body Pump last night, and combined with the lingering stiffness from my back, I'm walking with about as much agility as the average 80 year old. With arthritis.

This week's looking like being a fairly quiet one for me, for which I'm profoundly grateful, as I'm sodding knackered at the moment! My quiet weekend plans of not doing anything at all were somewhat foiled by receiving invitations from 3 different folks (why, they must like me - oooh, I have friends!), but it wasn't brutally busy.

We spent Saturday at the Three Counties Show in Malvern, which was a bit of a change of pace. Happily, we were supplied with some free tickets (saving ourselves the princely sum of £16 each), and the weather just about held, so it was a pretty good day out. The show is a large agricultural / country show held over a long weekend, with all sorts of stuff going on. There's oodles of stalls from all sorts of business - clothing, furniture, anything you can imagine for animals, and god knows what besides, stacks and stacks of food stores (including our friends' milkshake van - hence the free tickets!). There's livestock competitions, demonstrations of everything possible including formation parachute jumping from the paratroopers, and crazy stunts on quad bikes (he jumped 2 Morgan cars, 2 lorries, and 2 more Morgan cars all in one go - that's a lot!). There's animals all over the shop, including errant foxhounds that have gone AWOL from the hunt, 6 week old baby ferrets (can't tell you how cute they are!), lots of horses, and huuuuuuuge eagles in a display of birds of prey (literally came up to my knee or higher - that's a lot of very mean looking bird!). There were blacksmithing demos and horse-shoe-ing races (we stopped for a minute to drool over the manly men doing there thing, all sweaty and muscly), and a big fairground. All in all, it was a really good laugh.

I managed to lose my sunglasses on the waltzers in the fairground, because I didn't think we'd be going so fast that they'd literally fly off my head. We did, and they did. I spent most of the rest of the ride whipping my head round, trying to see where they'd gone. I'm sure there was a wimpering sound as I saw them slide into the gap in the undulating boardwalk and slowly disappear, surely crushed, but lo and behold, they'd fallen into a void and were flukily still in one piece at the end when I went to inspect their fate!

We saw Richard Hammond (Top Gear presenter) out for the day with his family. I always think it's weird seeing famous people in real life, as if I somehow expect them to be bigger or "realer" in the non-tv world. Strange. Anyway, we didn't make a nuisance of ourselves, as everyone was being polite and leaving them to there day out (which I approve of).

We eventually staggered home after a long day on our feet, and much nice nosh from the trade stands, which left me just enough time to have a shower and get changed before my friend Jo came over. We went to a local Italian restaurant in town for dinner and had a good, giggly catch-up. It was all really nice, apart from the fact that apparently the dress I wore was quite see through in the light, so god knows what sort of display I inadvertantly put on! Eeeeeeeeek!

Sunday was a lazing in the park, listening to the local band playing kind of afternoon. Very chilled although a little sun wouldn't have gone amiss.

I felt pretty guilty, as I'd bought a Fathers Day card for my Dad, and a little present for him, but then completely forgot to either call him or drop round to see him, until 10.30pm, by which time it was obviously too late. So I went round with gratuitous apologies yesterday to give those to him. Why am I such a terrible daughter??? It's not like it would have taken long out of day to do either, and there's only me, and yet I didn't even manage a phone call. I suck.

Open mouth AFTER thinking

We had a work night out last night - a kind of team bonding thing because we're integrating with an equivalent finance department from the other company housed on our site. All well and good, but since a lot of us newer folk don't know our opposite numbers in the other dept, a night out bowling was organised as an informal setting for a meet and greet.

It was kind of nice actually - very relaxed, and the guys we'll be working with seem pretty cool. But on the same game they mixed the teams up randomly, and I found myself in a team with a new guy who's come in at a fairly senior level. I've heard stuff about him round the office (in terms of work, not him personally) that wasn't entirely favourable - that he's very ambitious and will happily trample people to get to the top, but I've not had anything to do with him myself to date. I've barely made eye-contact with the guy before. He seemed quite friendly, and since we were the youngest people in our team we chatted (I'd say he's probably a couple of years older than me, but not much more than that - everyone else in our team was pretty senior).

Chatting turned to friendly competitiveness over the game at stake. That in turn led to banter. And I'm almost sure that the banter started taking on an edge of flirtation. I'm also pretty sure that that would be an incredibly bad idea. I really must get a reign on my mouth. The bantering was pretty intense, and at best I've just insulted the hell out of someone considerably senior to me (although he seemed to take it well and gave as good as he got), and at worst I flirted with someone considerably senior to me who I'm going to have to work with soon enough.

Not a smooth move.

Limping along

I'm still here - just somewhat in pain, after I popped my back out again on Sunday afternoon. The legacy of an old horse-riding injury, made worse during a snowboarding fall in January, I'm completely bummed that this has happened as I'd been thinking that between doing so much exercise and all the physio treatment and losing weight, it wouldn't happen again. Or at least it wouldn't happen with no cause, which is what did happen this time.

It seems to have improved quicker than it would usually, but I'm still really stiff, especially after any time spent just sitting still. Once I get up and move around, it quickly loosens up, but the first minute or 2 are horrible as I can barely stand straight. I'm gutted really, as the weather's gone nice again and I can't get out and run, or even walk. I'm going to head to spinning tomorrow night though and take it real easy and hope that that might help me a little bit.

Other than that, I had a gloriously lazy, sunny weekend at home this week. I didn't arrange anything social, I went to bed early because I was knackered, I finally got a chance to catch up on all the stupid domestic stuff that gets left on one side normally, and I found a couple of things whose disappearance has really been stressing me out (my cheque book being one of them!). All the tidying and pottering was pretty cathartic, and I just felt a lot more centred by the end of the weekend.

Not being able to move around much at the moment means I'm also finally taking some chill out time to just sit back and watch some of my stock-piled, recorded tv too. Finally got round to starting Dirty Sexy Money (so funny) and 90210 (so trashy!), and then just been getting early nights, so at least I'm feeling rested at the moment.

Got a bit of a crunch time, financially speaking, coming up over the next couple of months. It's time I paid for the laptop I bought on interest-free credit 6 months ago, and what a surprise that I never got around to putting aside as much money for it as I said I would. Still, I can just about manage it, but I'm back to zero savings. What with holidays coming up that need to be paid for (Croatia), I'm going to have to be careful to try and replenish my savings a bit - one step forward, two steps back. Again.

Looks like I'll be spending a few more nice cheap weekends at home chilling then!

Downtime

There's not a lot to report really at the moment. My ankle's still buggered and pretty swollen to boot, which is really annoying me as I'm feeling restless and irritable about not being able to get out and exercise, or even just enjoying some fresh air. Plus it makes everything else harder than it should be. I've still got no idea what I did to it, and I can't remember the last one in recent history that took this long to stop aching so I'm giving until after the weekend until I start seriously considering seeking some medical attention for it.

I've still got to fix my bike, although i have at least got as far as getting the wheel up into the flat ready to be stripped down now .... kind of half a job!

And I sliced open the first finger on my left hand cutting muffins for the toaster this morning - damnit!!!

At the moment, I've got a whole weekend of absolutely nothing planned. Which is pretty unusual for me, but given that last weekend was pretty expensive for me in terms of money, food and my ankle, I think that maybe this is a good thing. The challenge now, is to try and keep my weekend that way and to actually sit back and enjoy the time off for once!

Sue and Jo's Norway Adventure

Just got back from a fabulous long weekend in Oslo with Jo. It's been an absolute blast and we've had a great time, and I'd definitely recommend it to anyone looking to do a city break with a bit of a difference.

Things went fairly smoothly on the way out, which was a relief as I had worried that the whole thing would be one mad rush. We actually arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare and had a leisurely trip through check in and security, before settling down with a couple of large glasses of rose wine and the guidebooks to do some belated trip planning.

We arrive at Oslo Torp airport on time, but since it's in the middle of nowhere (over 100km from Oslo itself) we had a long coach trip ahead of us to get us to the end of our journey. Luckily, there's a dedicated coach servce called Torpexpressen that meets every Ryanair flight into Torp and carts into (and back from) the city centre for a reasonable 300kr (£30) return ticket.

We arrived at the central bus-station at just after 10pm, and then unerringly proved why women should not be allowed to read the map, by setting off in completely the wrong direction from the terminal! Genius, I tell you! After looking very confused at the first crossroads we got to, we finally figured out where we'd gone wrong and set off on a now slight circuitous route to take us to our hostel. Our first impressions of Oslo were therefore all a bit confused as we headed down deserted streets in a less-than-salubrious neighbourhood, then passed lots of street-side bars and witnessed some rather lively arguments on our way to our bed for the nights to come.

We found the Anker hostel without too much more trouble, and then hit the next flaw in the plan. They'd somehow lost our booking in the system, and didn't have any double / twin rooms available. Our hearts pretty much hit our boots at this point, but the lovely lady at reception (who spoke the most flawless English I've ever heard, as indeed most Norwegians seem to - very handy when you don't speak a word of the local language other than being able to say Thank You!), found us an empty 5 bed dorm, and promised that we could have it to ourselves for the duration of our stay and for the price already agreed. This actually worked out really well, because the room was huge and came complete with its own little mini-kitchen and fridge and a dining table and chairs. I'd definitely recommend the Anker Hostel to any other travellers - the staff were helpful, the location was central and everything was clean. We've both said that we would use it again. And at just under £150 each for 5 nights, you can't argue with the price!

Jo and I were up fairly early on Friday morning, courtesy of two things. 1) Oslo in early June, doesn't ever really get dark, and it's very confusing when "dawn" arrives at about 2am. 2) They're currently building a new hotel just behind the Anker complex, and apparently 7am is a perfectly acceptable hour to start heavy building work in Norway!

Jo shot off to her wedding that she was attending on Friday, so after spending an hour or so orientating ourselves in the city centre, and working out how the tram system worked, I was on my own. Eeeeeek - I've never been on my own abroad before! I actually spent a very pleasent afternoon exploring the National Gallery, which is both free, and home to a very impressive collection of art. I thought it was going to be pretty small when I walked in, but 32 rooms later, I revised that opinion as my feet were killing me!!! I saw - deep breath! - Manet & Monet, Degas & Rembrandt, Picasso and Van Gogh and a whole exhibition on Edvard Munch including one his 4 versions of the The Scream. There were also a whole heap of other famous painters I can't even think of at the moment, as well as some truly breath-taking Scandinavian landscape painters.

After the National Gallery, I braved one of the supermarkets on the way home to pick up some essentials for the trip. Unbelievably, one basket with some basic breakfast and lunch stuff (just milk, bread, cereal, ham, cheese) for both of us and dinner for one person came to a whopping 410kr - which is about £40!!! Ouch. I then spent a quiet night in at the hostel watching films on the portable DVD player we had. Atonement - possibly the most depressing film in the world. Don't get me wrong, it was good, but good lord it's traumatic watching it!

Saturday saw me catching the T-bane to the wooded hills outside Oslo to meet Jo and get back to nature. It's amazing how quickly Oslo becomes first expensive, lush, green suburbs, and then rural countryside - with half an hour of boarding the train in the city centre I was deposited atop a hillside, surrounded my fir trees and singing birds. Jo was already there to meet me with a route map, so we set off down the hill on our epic walk.

And got about 10 mins before we passed the beatiful and expensive Frognerseterin resaturant / hotel and decided to stop for decadent early morning cake! The biggest, freshly baked muffins you've ever seen and a view to die for from their balcony, under blue, blue sky.

Following the impromptu refuelling session we set off down the hill in high spirits .... and made about 50 metres before we had to refer to the map to work out where the heck we were meant to be going! After tramping across what looked like part of a building site, and climbing over a pile of rubble, we found something that looked remarkably like a trail and started off on the Grand Yomp Into The Wilderness again. Somehow we lost the trail in the next 10 mins - I think we dived off down an impromptu mountainbike trail by accident - and the next thing we knew we'd arrived at a massive mud road bisecting our path. The only problem being that the road was about 8 foot down a loose face of rocks, which we had to slide down in undignified fashion on our arses. A good start to the day!

We did a bit better after this. We were originally going to head first for the Olympic ski jump at Holmenkollen, which is the guidebook told us was a renowned view point across the greater Oslo area. However we found out the day before that the ski jump had been dismantled at the beginning of the year as they're rebuilding the surrounding resort at the moment. So we followed the walk in that general direction, but then continued straight on down to Midstuen which is the next T-bane station down the hill.

We actually reached that a lot quicker than we'd anticipated, so we decided that further exploration was in order, and after a quick glance at a handy trail-side map, we headed off up and round to nearby Songsvann lake. I would like to point out at this point, that our original map didn't cover any of this area, so from this point on we were winging it! It was a stunning day out, and I soon migrated from fleece and full length jeans to vest top and shorts, and still the path unfolded endlessly in front of us. The signposts we passes stopped pointing to the place we wanted to go, and we started to get a big confused. We sussed out that the sign-posts we were following must be the ski-run signs from the winter season, as I can think of no other reason why one finger post would have 3 separate signs for the same place, all pointing different directions with different distances on them. Oh yes, and they were all either red, green or blue. We eventually picked up signs for Songsvann again, and opted to take the red route which also happened to be the shortest.

It also happened to head straight into the boggiest excuse for a path I've ever come across!!! Committed as we were, we indulged in a spot of bog-hopping in an attempt to navigate round it (it seriously took us about 15 mins to get round a section of path about 20 metres long!), and of course, I completely missed my footing on jump from rock to log - got my foot on the log fine, and then put the other foot down straight in the muddy quagmire on the other side of the log, which turned out to be roughly ankle-deep before I could start getting my foot out again.

Jo was in absolute fits of laughter, and I wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or cry. In the end, I had a temporary sense of humour failure for about 10 mins (cue comedy "dejected" photos of me), before being able to see the funny side. The rest of the path was marginally less adventurous, but still featured further stream / river / bog crossings of a precarious nature. Luckily, I was also wearing walking sandals, rather than heavy boots, so was able to stick my foot in a stream a bit later and wash off the worst of the mud.

Our lovely walk ended at Songsvann lake about mid-afternoon, where we had a belated picnic in the sun and watched the ludicrously fit Norwegian folks running effortless laps of the lake (highly depressing!). There was also live entertainment in the form of the sudden appearance of a whooping man sprinting down the dock just down the shore from us, tearing off his clothes as he went, and bombing into the lake butt naked. Pretty brave if you ask me as the lake water was damn near glacial - I know because we went paddling in it!

Saturday night we ate out in the up-and-coming warehouse district of Gronelokke (I really need to check some of these spellings so bear with me!) - we found a nice bar / restaurant from the guide book that didn't look like it would be toooooo pocket-wrenchingly expensive, however in Norway that still means that a bottle of house white is over £30 - ouch!!! It was a nice meal however, and we'd actually taken the time to "girly-up" after the earlier walking, so it was a pretty good evening all round. Also, thanks to my new light-weight tendencies where the consumption of alcohol is concerned, half a bottle of wine, and a couple of cheeky vodkas back at the hostel was enough to have me crying helplessly with laughter over something not particularly funny - I think it might have been Jo's discussion of "cabbage allowance" on our upcoming holiday to Croatia when she got mixed up between cabin and baggage .... oh dear.

Sunday dawned as another nice day out, and we tootled off to the harbour to pick up one of the circular ferries and explore the small islands out in Oslo Fjord. The ferries are great as they're free to use with the Oslo pass, so it's a great way to get around. The islands are really pretty and easy to explore in the space of an hour (or two) between scheduled ferry drops. They're chock full or pretty rocky / grassy beaches, cute little holiday huts painted in bright colours, monastry ruins, marinas full of yachts, occasional cafes and stunning isolated houses.

Back on the mainland, we had a little wander around the Akke Brygge shopping area (warning - apparently Norwegian shops do NOT open on a Sunday) before catching the tram out to the suburbs to go and visit the Vigesland scuplture park. It's only about a 10 min tram ride from the centre, and well worth the trip. The park's landscaping has been specifically designed to display the works of art it is home to and it is a beautiful setting to while away a couple of hours. We stopped at a random museum somewhere in the park grounds (I didn't actually notice what it was a museum for!) and had a well-earned coke and cake. Imagine my horror when the total bill for two glasses of diet coke and two little individual ginger cakes came to about £16 - EEEEEEEEEK!!!

Back in the park we took silly photos of us imitating the sculptures and were wowed by the centrepiece on the hill - a giant phallic pillar that stands atop a series of steps - as you get closer you can see that it's formed of bodies writhing together, all butt-naked, but it's not until you get right up close that you appreciate the detail and attention that has gone into it. All around the approaching steps are rings of statues of groups of people, representing different stages of life - all still naked! It's a like a whole lot of naked-ness, but well worth a look :o)

Wandering out down another statue-lined avenue in the park, what I really appreciated was how much the Norwegians actually make use of these gorgeous open spaces and really seem to enjoy them.

Monday, we went out on a boat cruise around the harbour and fjord (again courtesy of the Oslo Pass) on a tall ship. One of the highlights of the cruise was meant to be a shrimp buffet, but honestly Jo and I took one look and decided against it. Lunch isn't meant to have beady little black eyes that look at you from your plate!! Yuck. All the other passengers went at it hammer and tongs though, consuming plate after plate of the little critters. Some of the passengers also decided to feed the birds, as this is obviously a good idea when you have a whole harbour-ful of seagulls in your vicinity, and we were soon trailing a squawking, whooping, dive-bombing trail of the buggers behind, above, around, and on the ship. You may well have picked up from my tone, that I wasn't overly amused by this development, and you'd be right. For one thing, they're huge and pretty aggressive, and having one land about foot away from your face, on the balustrade, is not funny. For another thing, lots of flying gulls = lots of flying shit, and I was very tempted to retreat into my waterproof, hood and all, for the duration of the tour.

We hopped off the boat on the Bygdoy peninsula, home to a very wealthy neighbourhood and also the Viking Ship Museum and also a kind of living history museum. We spent a couple of hours in these (the charm of museums is starting to wear off a little bit by this point, as both Jo and I have fairly low tolerance for all things cultural - cretins that we are!), before mooching back down to the quay to get a final ferry home. As it turned out, we got a bit lost amongst the streets of gigantic houses and ended up on a completely different quay to the one we landed at, but luckily the ferry stopped at both - phew! And that ended another long day on our feet as we staggered back to the hostel!

By this point my ankle, which had been complaining for some of the previous day as well, was really starting to become pretty painful. I'm not entirely sure what I did to it, whether I've sprained the ankle somehow, or if I've managed to bruise the underside of my foot and the shockwave was making my ankle hurt, but either way putting my heel down and putting any weight on it was pretty painful. Luckily, Jo is my saviour. She still had some excess energy to burn so she decided to go out on a run, and then swung by McDonalds on the way back to bring us back some dinner - what an angel!

Since we were flying back on Tuesday there wasn't really a huge amount of time left to do stuff. We packed and headed out from the hostel by 10am, and we were going to head to the Natural History Museum and the Botanical Gardens. We found the gardens without a problem, but then literally couldn'y find the museum. We then hit upon the alternative of going round the Zoological Museum instead which was in the gardens as well. Foiled!! It didn't open til 11 and we knew we needed to be heading back to the hostel by 12. So we thought that since it was a nice day, we'd just sit out on the grass and enjoy the sun and scenery. That lasted about 10 mins until some security chappy rocked up to tell us that we couldn't sit on the grass. Arrrrghh!! In a state of sulky mutiny we wandered down the hill and set up camp on some benches - not nearly as comfy but at least nobody came to move us on.

Our journey back home went smoothly, but only just by the skin of our teeth. We'd been told that we needed to be at the bus-station 4 hours before our flight to catch the airport coach. We sauntered 4 and a half hours before the flight to see that our coach was up on the board and due to leave in 10 mins. WTF???? We hoofed it through the station, slung our bags on the coach and threw ourselves on the coach with about 5 mins to spare. If we'd missed that coach all hell would have broken loose as that's the only way to the airport, short of taking a 100km taxi ride!

At the airport, our plane was then brought forward, meaning that we had to again hoof it off to the departure lounge halfway through out early tea. Not overly amused. But at least we got back to England a tiny bit early.

And now we're home again, and feeling deflated that the mini-adventure is over already. The monetary damage has been assessed (not entirely bankrupt), my ankle's still not right (we got back Tuesday and it's not Thursday), my pack is still ... well ... packed (really need to do something about that!), and I'm looking forward to a quiet weekend, starting tomorrow lunchtime. Mmmmmmmm .... sleeeeeeep ......

TO BE CONTINUED ..... CHECK BACK LATER FOR MORE WORK ON THIS POSTING - THERE WILL BE PHOTOS AND A SPELLING CHECK AT SOME POINT! ;o)