where was I?

Was planning to go back into lunnon town again for the London munch tonight but time escaped me. Sometimes I do wish I still lived in London rather than having a 90 minute to 2 hour trip to get there. Doesn't seem worth the trek to arrive past ten and have to leave almost immediately to get the train.

Been gadding about mostly at Mark's this week doing zip: staying up till the late early hours playing poker and drinking or drinking, listening to music and playing at other things. Loafing about wearing a skanky but comfortable dressing gown, drinking coffee and reading books in the mornings till it's time to go to the pub again.
Bliss.

We did have an expedition to Alfie's Antiques by accident, after some awkward person replaced Woolworths with a Waitrose, but everything I liked was either overpriced or I was scared to ask the price. I did enjoy eyeing everything up, and saw a fabulous glass table that looked like a magical pool, no need to ask the price, I have no space for it in my house. I need a HUGE house to put all the lovely things I lust after. Luckily for Mark I wasn't overcome with wow factor by the necklace he was considering buying me since it had an unlikely price tag too. The Lea Stein foxes I saw were £40-£45 which is a tenner more than the currently rising ebay prices which was a bit of a disappointment though I'd have paid it if there had been an extra-special one there. The one thing I saw that I *really* wanted was a lovely silver bangle with big very-red abstract glass shapes on it, but when I asked the woman to look at it she said it was hers, and not for sale. BAH! Felt quite aggrieved that she not only told me this but proceeded to put it on HER wrist and declare she must take it home with her tonight before putting it back in the glass case. ssssssssssake!

I'm supposed to be taking Dee to Guys for her dental thing on Monday but I don't think she's talking to me so she might bail again. No matter. Sunday is gorgeous blond's fourth birthday and I've organised a combination Thomas the Tank Engine and Santa's Magic Train trip ON his birthday with a promise that Santa may remember to wish him a happy birthday when he and his elves deliver his present. It was good last year even though Paul and Dee hadn't realised it was a timed thing and my car decided to play up that day as well. The feeling of utter relief when the chap on the desk said they had a carriage free on the last train and we were able to enjoy the trip we'd planned.

The SIGIST conference on Tuesday was good, but one of the presenters, a rather plump though tall lady had a voice exactly like Winnie the Pooh, which rather detracted from her presentation. Promising myself I'll book all these things and the 'required' training courses for next year so I have time to think and consolidate instead of throwing all my energy into the current project whatever that might turn out to be.

Went with Paula and Rod to a TA fancy dress thing in Chelmsford on Saturday, proper old-fashioned meeting up to get on a coach to trundle into the night. I actually managed to get to P’s less than fifteen minutes late at 5:45, already dressed for the underneath bit, an entirely different outfit from the one I’d planned but I found lots of interesting clothes while I was looking for the harem girl outfit. As it was, I was pleased to re-acquaint myself with my favourite basic black corset and for it to wrap lovingly round me without having to unlace it and for it to fit me better than it has since I bought it.

We did girl things with make-up while Rod got his tinman outfit together, then loaded an unlikely number of boxes and bags into the car to arrive in Hertford just in time for the coach. Paula the pirate (lush outfit, and I had the privilege of being told exactly where she bought it, so I might just get one for myself sometime) Rod the Roman centurion and me the iridescent blue pasha in the peacock feather robe. There were some other people who had bothered to dress up, and some looked ace. I spent the evening lusting after mid-twenties infants dressed as Jack Sparrow, a Flashman type, and wondering a little at their major who turned up in a tacky satin Elvis costume but looked like a lot of fun regardless. Mrs Shrek looked great, but the most unexpected and lovely idea was Lady Penelope and Parker; it took a moment or two to figure out that it wasn’t a strange military uniform and a seventies outfit but they were the biz.

Hog was roasted, vats of potato salad and green salad were almost entirely ignored, huge rounds of cheesecake tempted the tastebuds – then let them down, but that’ll be me and my taste, not a fault in the desserts. Rod and Paula managed to purloin a whole one which was balanced very carefully by various people until it reached chez P where it was already known that the fridge didn’t have any room in it. Strangeness.

I bought raffle tickets on the basis I felt quite honoured to have been invited, but sadly won nowt, while Paula won a fancy iPod and Rod a bottle of Bolly for best dressed. I suspect I got rather very drunk on private club prices and especially on my latest taste favourite, provided by the gallant major – Champort! A mixture of champagne (decent stuff at that) and port. My first one was when I caught someone’s eye as they pulled a face tasting it and offered to assist, which came with a caveat it should be downed in one, which I did, and very nice it was too. Stole Rods thunder a little when he came over with a couple of glasses for me n’ P, but we did our best to be ladylike with it. Right up till Paula naffed me last one, serves her right she was poorly the next day – I wasn’t!


For reasons best known to alikehoorites like us, we had to put away another bottle of red before we went off to bed at some unknown hour – I think my name may be written on the back of her settee, like some kind of leather park bench for waifs and strays.

My excuse for spending money in Tesco is that I needed petrol, and therefore needed to spend £50 to get a token for cheaper petrol. Yeah, right. Meant I didn’t actually leave for the LAM till about 2 and didn’t get there till about 4. The welcome I got made me regret I’d not got there earlier, not enough time to talk to all the people I wanted to, and I also missed the new crepes named in my honour. Meringue and raspberry with maple syrup I think. Bless. Lyn and Nigel are such lovely people.

Money was tempted from my pocket at a new stall selling silk corset-ribboned cushion and pillow covers. I really fancy commissioning a throw for the bed to go with them but have a minor concern about the potential price. L’Oreal must come to the fore, I’m worth it, every penny and more!

The after-party provided another opportunity to continue the catch-up with people I haven’t seen for a long time. Sir Richard made a point of coming over to say I looked marvellous, said he’d been worried about how strained and stretched I’d looked the last few times he’d seen me.

The traffic lights on Chelsea Bridge did their decision-making bit for me, red means I go home, green means I go catch up with Mark. I’d text him earlier, and not got a reply so I was a bit wary but it turned out OK in the end. Left my car outside the pub all night and am still trying to find a way to pay the doubtless doubling congestion charge cos I surely don’t believe I got off with it. Forgot, forgot, and forgot about it all week then discovered I couldn’t pay it without the penalty notice, which I don’t have….

This turned out to be topsy-turvy, never mind.