In Which Our Heroine Catches Up on the Backlog

The one good thing about being unemployed is that it gives you time to finally catch up on email and things. The last bit of work there was totally mad insane, with just enough room to breathe and not much else. Until the previously noted festivities that accompanied my leaving. Never mind.......

When we last left our heroine (that's me, by the way), I was soliciting advice as to what to wear to an 80s party. This was harder than it looked as it had to not just be part of the 80s, but ALSO had to meet the following criteria.
1) It should mostly come from clothes I had, which wasn't much.
2) It couldn't cost me a fortune to get decked out, as it was just the one night.
3) It couldn't draw too much attention on the Tube while travelling to Nicki's for the pre-party.

This was starting to look like an impossible challenge, until my friend Andrew stepped up to the mark thinking in a more lateral direction. "A Happy Monday" he suggested, or "Prefab Sprout". No one, not even Andrew could figure out waht this later would look like, but it did seem a good idea, and with a bit of brainstorming in that kind of direction led to dressing all in black, having a bag full of candles at my side, a very northern black flat cap (no whippet), and tucking a black Kohl eye liner pencil in my bag so I could smudge up my face when I arrived at Nicki's.

I was a miner's strike power cut.

This worked amazingly well. I doled out candles to lots of people, and everyone got nostalgic about how harsh those days had been. Jam sandwiches were a popular food. I, of course, don't remember them at all as it was before I got here, but my friend Mark had been telling me how incredibly harsh it was in those days if you lived up North. I, of course, would have been on the side of the miners. You can't other wise be a leftie, or have gone to university in a mining town and be otherwise.and I am "guilty" on both counts.

The party was fun. First was the pre-party which was scarily like being back in high school. Madonna tunes blaring, net fingerless gloves, puffy ponytails on the side of the head and pouts. Oh yes, I do remember it just like it was last week. Even more fun is the fearlessness that happens when tall girls get together. I like to dance, but I need to be a bit drunk as I am self concious of being so much bigger than everyone else. But when you get three girls over six feet together all with the same thought pattern, welllllllll, there was a lot of jumping up and down, hands in the air like you just don't care going on, as how can they be staring at you if there are three of you?

Especially if you spent too much time before arriving drinking absinthe. I do like the stuff, but it is a) very strong, and b) an excuse for drunk people to set things on fire, as you dip your spoonful of sugar in the absinthe to soak it, then light the sugar on fire to caramelise it. When that is done, you drop it in the absinthe to mix the caramelised sugar in, and then down in one go. If you have a room full of people doing the same thing, a candle is ever handy......see? Practical as well, those candles.

As per the usual, I didn't realise I was being chatted up by some bloke until far too late in the game. I was, however, impressed at the depth of my discussion on obviousness in US patent law while drunk at 2 in the morning on the boat club balcony. Geek or dork are the words you are currently looking for. I must have looked quite good that evening as in addition to that incident, I had to extricate myself from the rumour that I used to date Richard Hartman. I have never. I have only met the lad twice, and that is because he is my best friend's brother. He just also used to row at the club next door. As if that wasn't enough, the cab driver on the way home asked me out. I said no on the grounds he keeps unsocialble hours, but had a good laugh when the lights went on as I got home and he said "what did you do to your face?" I explained. He thought it was a good costume as well.

The next day was mostly spent recovering. It was a very good party.

This last week has been spent rejoicing in last weekend. First off, we won the quiz again at the RAC, thus giving me two more bottles of wine. Frankly, that is like winning a pie eating contest and winning a pie. I really am not a big drinker and am off the stuff for a while as I have just had too much of late. I think these bottles could linger a while. I love the quiz itself more than the wine. Mostly because it allows me to show the odd things that I do not know how I know. We only won by a point, but I came up with the key ones no one else knew. Then again, I do not know how I knew that Charlotte Church's new album is "Tissues and Issues" as I have literally never heard the girl sing. Ever. This is what I mean. Of course it is also the same reason I am great at Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit.

Saturday was looking at flats and a BBQ to celebrate Kat's new fence, complete with ribbon cutting. As this was an English BBQ, it was held in the rain and this was not considered unusual. And Sunday I finally got my bike, a very shiny blue thing that almost immediately got labelled George from "and I will love him and squeeze him and call him George" as I was so incredibly happy to have a bike again. No helmet, but as I was getting a helmet the next day I didnät think it would be a problem until I got back to London (I was in Cambridge) and the Thameslink home had gone for the night. I couldn't take my bike on the Tube, and had to get to Victoria somehow. I had lights, but no helmet, was dressed all in black, it was raining, and I also didn't have a map. I did have a good sense of direction ("I think it is that way") but I was scared out of my tree, as I knew I couldn't be seen and that I had to work hard to remember which lane to turn into (they drive on the opposite side of the road and all that.). I made it though, and it was rather fun. I wiggled my way to Trafalgar Square, and then asked a cab driver who happened to have his passenger window open where to go. Such terribly English directions: "go through that arch, and when you get to Buckingham Palace, take a left and then your first right." Loved it, didn't die, and then made it to Victoria as the gates opened for the last train home. Whee!

Love
Anne
PS I now have a helmet.