Snow and Sympathy

God only knows what's been going on with the weather of late - woke up with yet another chronic hangover on Sunday morning to find Christmas had come eight months early; far from ideal given that I had to make my way to Leighton Buzzard for a charity football match (an unavoidable work commitment). Was actually quite a laugh as I went with two of my colleagues - soon after meeting we established we'd collectively had less than 6 hours sleep, which at least meant we were all in the same hellish boat. Still, we met Ronald McDonald at the match, so it wasn't all bad.

What is bad is the sudden man drought I am finding myself in - all the distractions of the past few weeks have fallen by the wayside (even the 23 year old appears to have ditched me, which I must confess I'm particularly wounded by - my pride rather than my heart, that is, as I can hardly claim to have been in love with the boy having met him a grand total of once, and even then having drunk so much alcohol he could have been pretty much anyone...) Still, it's never nice to realise someone just isn't that fussed about you, is it? Oh well, must remind myself that was one situation that was almost certainly not destined to be any more than it was. I will just have to resign it to the drawer marked 'experience' (or perhaps the drawer marked 'one night stand' - oops!) and move on.

On Saturday night I met a beautiful boy (and when I say beautiful I really do mean Beautiful) who, regrettably, is with girlfriend. This pains me more than words can say, as I sensed a definite mutual interest as we were crushed together on the dance floor (though with the amount of cocktails being collectively consumed it's possible this was rather more of an alcohol related attraction than a genuine love match..) He made several remarks about my having 'a minder' (referring to a male friend of mine who had apparently been giving him disapproving looks), though in reality the only minder on the scene was a male friend of his who made several less-than-subtle attempts to separate us. All very odd. Anyway, we ended up back at my friend's flat having a drunken conversation in the kitchen about the drawbacks of international volunteering (impressive subject matter given that we had, by this point, been drinking for the best part of 8 hours). In the end he left, and it is with great regret I have to accept that that was the end of that. Rubbish. (As an aside, and a further example of my recent bad luck on the man front, I was accosted in the bar by another member of our group - who I only met that night, I hasten to add), who completely misjudged my friendliness and took it upon himself to lunge at me, forcefully, in a vain attempt to make me kiss him. This was both terrifying and funny in equal measures - the latter emotion only coming into play with hindsight - but thankfully my weight lifting sessions in the gym came in handy and I managed to fight him off before any lip contact was made. Urgh, makes me shudder just to think of it. Isn't it always the way that the ones you like don't like you (or are taken) and the ones you don't like are all over you?

Other, erm, highlights of the past fortnight are as follows:

1) Am seeing the benefits of private members clubs, after going to the Hospital Club in Covent Garden last weekend with some friends (bars over three floors, cinema, games room with pool tables and giant connect four, balconies with views over London, best burgers EVER...get the picture?) Just need to bag myself a few million on the Euromillions to facilitate that plan....

2) Went to my writing group last week and read out my work for the first time - and guess what? It went down a storm! I really couldn't believe it - the people there are so far removed from what I would consider my target audience to be, and yet they really enjoyed it and made some really positive comments. As I'd hoped, this has done wonders for my confidence and got me well and truly back into the writing spirit. Haven't wanted to revisit the story in question since splitting with the ex (too many bad memories), but the encouragement I've now received has made me more sure than ever that I have to finish it and send it out - otherwise I'll only have myself to blame.

3) I have a new tattoo! Have been planning it for a while (it's a translation into Cambodian that means 'inner strength' and symbolises the happiness and independence I felt when travelling by myself in Cambodia just before The Split) but only just managed to pluck up the courage and find the time to get it done. Spent 3 hours in the tattoo parlour um-ing and ah-ing over it as the woman refused to do it as small as I'd intended on the grounds that the writing would 'bleed' over the years and look blurry. In the end my impulsive side won out and I had it done about four times larger (!!) but thankfully I love it (and hey, it's on my lower back, so even if I go off the idea I don't have to look at it!)

That's about all really, have a busy few days coming up at work and at play, with the potential of a quiet weekend at home in preparation for next weekend's mad trip to Amsterdam with my good friend Clare. Cannot wait!!