Well, the good news is that I managed to complete all but three clues of The Times crossword in under two hours. The bad news is that I'm still an insomniac.
The snow lingered for a while, but has now gone. Nik went ski-ing, but is now home. While he was away, I threw myself into madly socialising to distract me from the fact that I'm still a little edgey about being in the house on my own. There was, I am pleased to report, only one morning when I woke up at 4 a.m. and heard someone opening the front door through the letterbox and moving around downstairs. And that was only in my imagination. Huzzah.
In other news, I taught my friend Helen how to knit and she was very good at it. I made an enormous shepherd's pie and didn't cook anything else until Friday when my Oxford friends descended en masse. I trekked to Ascot in the snow and had a v sophisticated evening with Nicky. I thought the frisson of underage drinking was over once I could wave my ID at the folks in All Bar One and successfully buy pomegranate juice, but this place had an over-25's policy and I felt that illicit thrill and slight terror* all over again. The Oxford massive was also great fun, and tried their best to clean me out of tea and cake as usual. (But I have too much tea. And put my foot down about the cake.) It really was like a wonderful grown-up sleepover: classic girly squealing and gossiping and talking about sex and periods and all that, only with roast lamb and a decent bottle of red or three instead of pizza and Coke. And we didn't stay up till 5 (though we did sit around in our pyjamas until mid-afternoon the next day).
I don't know if I'm just noticing it more, because something in my head is going, 'Omg, you're getting married, you won't be able to have all this girly fun any more!'** or if we were all just on particularly good form in this particular week, but it seemed like I had even more fun than usual with these various people.
I also watched epic quantities of The West Wing, courtesy of Livvy, and thanks to that and the fab ladies over at Kvetch I have been indulging in a true surfeit of wit. So... much... wit... Now Nik is also hooked. (On The West Wing.)
Things seemed a bit more humdrum last week, with no snow and less socialising. My job currently consists mostly of helping big multinational companies sack people, which is rather dispiriting, and my weekend largely involved making soup. One of them was bright orange though.
* I have a morbid fear of getting into trouble. Christ knows what my parents did to me...
** Not sure quite why this would be the case, but my subconscious is a strange place.
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2 comments:
Was the soup orange on purpose? Or courtesy of strange coloured string, a la Bridget Jones?
Also, The West Wing is awesome.
Yes it was. It was a squash of some variety so quite intentionally orange.
The West Wing truly rocks.
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