I've moved. This time from my parents' house to the garden shed out back. They call it the Wendy House. Highly emasculating, nes pas? This wouldn't be so bad if I'd unpacked. But I didn't. Well, not really. There are boxes from 6 years ago with stuff that I forgot I owned. And most of my stuff from St Andrews - well, unpacked in that it's no longer in boxes or bags... sadly it's not tidily put away either.
It's been a voyage of discovery. For instance, a pair of shoes I hadn't worn in ages? Well, went to slip them on and found the spare battery for my digital camera in one of them. I thought I'd lost it. Always the last place you look. Or, in this case, somewhere you just wouldn't look for it, like, ever. So the mysteries that await fill the mind with a mixture of wonder and the mundane. Such is life.
So yeah, I'm living in a bomb site that I've detonated. But my folks are home and we haven't fallen out yet, which is a good thing. Building the energy to tidy the bomb site while balancing that with writing? Well, that's quite hard. And apparently there's some holiday coming up that I need to be ready for - something about a tree and a baby.
Last weekend was interesting. Friday night was spent in the exciting company of "tour operators". I drank a lot and, to my shame, ate a McDonald's.
Saturday was a day off.
Sunday was an epic Christmas lunch party that ran from 1pm to 1am and involved lovely ladies and old friends as well as a couple of new faces. I felt atrocious yesterday and deserved to, as I consumed a vast amount of red wine. That said the day did have its perks.
Last evening found yet another pub in London that is brilliant. The Horse & Groom in Belgravia (ultra-high-rent-district), a pub that boasts free sandwiches, great beer, lunatic scando bar managers and nice wood paneling. Caught up with the lovely Clair and the nice but not all that lovely Ru & Marcus. I didn't need to catch up that much with the latter 2 as the aforementioned Sunday lunch boasted their presence, but Clair I hadn't seen in ages and was in brilliant form.
This evening cultural enlightenment took centre stage and I went to a talk by Saba Douglas-Hamilton, of Big Cat Diaries fame, about her mother's family planning clinic in Kenya. It turns out she was a St Andrews alum as well. It was a great talk, and she struck me as one of those people who just manages to be very talented and lovely enough so as not to inspire cynical jealousy. It turns out her mum worked with my aunt many years ago. And I'm pretty sure she's related to an old friend. So it's a pretty small world, really.
So feeling informed and enlightened the folks and I went over to the table where the native crafts were sold to raise money for the clinic and I got the coolest bathrobe ever. And if you don't believe me, just check it out:See? I love it. I'm wearing it as I type this, I kid you not. In any case, I'm looking forward to a good quiet night's rest.