In almost every respect the Gala Dinner was a rip roaring success - the fly in my ointment being one so-called 'celebrity' going by the name of Lynne Franks, who arrived (admittedly after ten minutes of standing in the pouring rain and being refused entry by the security staff on the front gate) in an absolutely foul mood and remained in said mood for the duration of the evening, making my role as Celeb Manager rather fraught, to say the least. Turned out the next day she'd even been paid by McDonald's to attend (cheeky cow!!) so how she thought it was okay to behave in the way she did I'll never know. Still, the other celebs were an absolute dream, and in spite of the ludicrously tight timings of the quiz rounds, dinner service etc, we've been heaped with praise ever since, and even managed to raise £85k. Result.
Since the excitement has died down it's been no less manic at work, but whilst I run the risk of making people nauseous with this statement, the fact I love my job so much makes this more of a pleasure than a chore (urgh - pass the sick bag someone please!!) Plus it always pays to keep busy - within reason, that is. I'm still struggling slightly to strike a balance between work and social life, with healthy eating and regular gym attendance vying against vast quantities of red wine, cigarettes and boys!!
By boys I really do mean boys, by the way. In recent days I've lowered the bar somewhat where age is concerned and thus far it seems to be paying off. Things didn't work out with the Teacher - don't know what changed really, but I suddenly just went off the idea (I see a pattern emerging...) and since then have been trying to phase things out without a) putting myself through any unecessary stress and b) making him feel crap about the situation. The Venture Capitalist is still on the sidelines but since the turning-up-on-his-doorstep-drunk situation we've (oddly) not met up, which doesn't bother me in the slightest. Anyway, I digress - so the youngster in question is a boy I met through - check this out people! - entirely legitimate means (by which I mean not through a dating website). Was out for dinner with some girlfriends last Monday and he was there with his friend, they sent over some sambuccas and the rest, as they say, is history. He's only 23, and I highly doubt it will be anything other than a bit of fun, but right now I've realised that's absolutely all I need. Hurrah! And to think that all this time I thought I needed an older man who wanted a relationship - younger men who are far too immature for relationships are by far more appealing!!
Bank hol w/e was hilarious, but exhausting. Went to a House night at Heaven with Vicks on the Thurs and re-lived our university-inspired love of clubbing, then had a few local drinks on the Fri, went home to rest and recuperate from the stinking cold I had acquired on Sat, and returned to London for hardcore drinking session on Sunday. Started at 4.30pm in a pub in Balham, ended at 4am passed out in Vicki's bed lying beside a total stranger whose name was, apparently, Bobby D (or similar) but who I was unable to converse with due to the fact I was so drunk that every time I opened my mouth to talk I was sure I would throw up. Long story, and one I'd probably do best to avoid at this juncture, but suffice to say it was a very amusing day/evening, and one Housemate Richard and I will no doubt look back on for months to come with embarrassment and fondness (he fared little better than me, ending up trying to sleep under the desk in the living room).
The previous weekend was my best friend from school's b'day, which involved a night of drinking in South Pacific Bar in Oval - a hovel if ever there was one, but a nice hovel in many ways, with a big dance floor and plentiful supplies of cheap and sickly alcohol, and even more cheap and sickly music. Unfortunately one member of our group's high jinx led to my friend being pushed off the podium and knocking herself out cold - cue ambulance, paramedics, high jinx-boy being slung out of the club on his ear...etc etc. Not that I minded the distraction one bit as it saved me from the rather unfortunate conversation in which I had become embroiled with a male friend of mine (who shall forever remain nameless) who took it upon himself to come onto me whilst we were standing outside having a cigarette. This was awful for many reasons, primarily because I don't feel that way about him and it was therefore akin to having your brother make a pass at you. Yeouch.
Anyway, what was meant to be a brief update has now turned into a long and convoluted ramble, so I will draw things to a close with these parting words:
Be aware of the idiot, for he is like an old dress. Every time you patch it, the wind will tear it back again.
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