Sweet November

5:32am.  That is what time I woke up this morning.  Now I understand that it could definitely be worse, but let me tell you that after 10 weeks of no work (I hear your "awe" in sympathy) alarm clocks are not well received, especially before sunrise.

But I hear you ask, "what is the reason for this madness!?".   I can tell you that I went for a job interview which I am extremely excited about but for your own safety I cannot enlighten you as to what job it was for.  Secret agent stuff, you know the drill.

Small things....

...make us laugh...

like cardboard boxes.

On other news it is official, there is no such thing as a drought in London.  I was able to use my umbrella this morning on my way to the top secret interview and I was impressed that I was able to walk about 300m before the damn thing turned inside out.  It was freezing.  Utterly icy, windy, rainy, and to top things off the other night on the way back from a night out on the town with one of Nick's friends I lost one of my new leather gloves.  I will bet to that a bit later.



The weekend past was lovey, as I said we hit a part of the town called Soho (red light district) with one of Nicks friends Nathan who lives in Sweden which was interesting.  Lots of gays, Nick got more attention from the boys than I did which isn't good for any womans ego.  After a few drinks it was time to catch the last train home and on this journey Nick and I thought it was absolutely hilarious to take my gloves and slap each other on the face in time with saying in an evil Russian-esque accent; "zie are vayz of mekin you talk!"  Hence the missing glove...

I just checked the current temperature in London an it is 5 degrees celcius, but I quote "feels like 0 degrees'.  In what other country does 5 degrees disappear and no one blinks an eye about it.

Tangent - Binge Drinking.  Australia you though we had it bad, the people (mostly women) here are out of control.  Sitting on the train waiting for the last train and it seems that everyone is leaving the carriage, I can't undestand why but I am bopping away to my Ipod.  Then Nick point out a girl about 6 seats down who has chundered all over the floor.

WARNING: do not read if you have a weak stomach

 
It was a fine spew, red in colour, chunky like Dolmio but disappointing projectile.  After shifting slightly away from the evidence she collapsed in a heap.  From now on I am carrying my Polaroid around with me on the weekends so if I ever see anyone like that again I am going to take a photo of them and put it in their pocket so they can be utterly disgusted by themselves when they awake with a cracking headache and have conveniently "forgotten" everything from the night.  It's just not very becoming.

Bald head = cold ears = woolen accessories

So, the following day was lovey and sunny, we went to a local pub where everyone knows everyone for a meal with some of Nicks family and friends (and Bluey, the red setter who got a little exhausted by all off the excitement and needed a little nap, thankfully I had my sleeping mask on hand).