5 days in a row is a habit, right?

Had a terribly boring day on Saturday, Miriam was away at Ascot so I wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet in the house. Did a mahoosive work out in the morning, including starting the hundred push up challenge (http://hundredpushups.com/). Had plans to see Debora later in the day so I didn't mind killing time milling around. Turns out Debora wasn't well and slept all day so by about 8:30 I was going CRAZY with boredom (and hunger). Finally snapped and went charging up to the High Street with Amy to get Mexican food. Tim and Jess came to meet us and we ended up going for drinks (me not drinking, like a SAINT). One of them had been at Ascot and drinking all day, see if you can guess which:

I wasn't drinking not only to be healthy but with the intention of going to Body Pump at 9:30 the next morning. Mind was willing but the body was not able. Had a nice lie in instead. In the afternoon went to the ever glorious Battersea Park for a picnic for Matt's birthday. Even though the park is minutes from my house (by bike) and I've been there on numerous occasions ever time I go I see something new. This time I found a pagoda and a herb garden. Wonder if the herbs are for sale? Would be amazing if they were. Have to look into it. Anyway, picnic was lovely and Matt's GORGEOUS girlfriend Genny made some great sandwhiches:

Only dark cloud was me - I was excessively grumpy and since I'm on my crazy diet brought and ate my own food. Don't think Genny is my biggest fan and now I'm sure she thinks I'm a rude bastard. I left when Matt's gorgeous cousin Ed showed up. Met him about 10 years ago and developed a huge crush (he's the worlds nicest boy) and shortly after he left to be the House of Lords representative to the European Parliament no less! In the intervening time his hair had turned grey, thereby transforming him into my ideal apart. Apart from the whole being straight thing, so I left in a huff.

Finished the day well though - Henry had invited me to lunch but I'd already agreed to go to the picnic but I went to go meet the lunch party at an old man's gay pub in Limehouse and saw some truly second rate drag. Had an amazing time, laughed like a drain at all the drunken antics and got a 15 mile cycle ride out of the whole affair too. Here's Henry and Amy having the TIME OF THEIR LIVES:

Monday the only excitement was going to Pilates instructed by the completely adorable Michael. Small, handsome, bright eyed, bushy tailed Australian guy. I'm in love. I literally had to restrain myself from running out in the middle of the class to buy him a puppy. Good news is that he's a gay, bad news is that there's no way someone that adorable is single. Anyway, he teaches on Sunday and Monday so I'll be going and praying I'm wrong.

Its Tuesday now and I've been dieting and exercising like a maniac for five days. Went to Yoga this afternoon and later I'll be cycling 5 miles to Waterloo to do a spinning class. Yoga felt amazing, first time I've done it in ages. I'm definitely going to have to get stuck back in. Am feeling very thin and healthy. Bit exhausted though so I think tomorrow is going to be a day of rest and carbohydrate consumption! YAY! Can't wait.

Good or bad?

Today I ate breakfast, went for a 'job' interview (it was a recruitment agent 'we can definitely get you work ... maybe early next year'. Useful) cycled 5 miles, worked out, did a spinning class, worked out, cycled 3 miles, drank water, cycled 6 miles. So definitely back on the diet train which I was very happy about. HOWEVER pinned up above my computer are my new years resolutions and one of them is 'Not to swing wildly between being a bum and dieting but instead find a happy medium'. Bollocks.

Monday morning you sure looked fine

Monday I was still reeling from Saturday and determined to get back to normality. However, it turned out it was James' final exam so I met him and Brittany for 'a' celebratory drink at 4:30pm. Ended up dancing on tables screaming along to Whitney Houston in a gay club at three o clock in the morning. The Monday night clubbing crowd is a scary crowd. Believe me. Slept over at Brittany's on Monday and Tuesday started off with a restorative breakfast of Nandos. Finally got home in the afternoon to find my whole life a disaster - clothes everywhere, food going off in the fridge, alfalfa mouldering in its sprouter, wheatgrass seeds festering on my floor, piles of laundry, smelly sheets (weird since I'd barely slept in them), e-mails unanswered, phone calls missed and blog completely ignored. So ever since I've been trying to get things back on track. Went for a lovely dinner party at Craig's last night (Danish meatballs and Melodiafestivalen, can't get better than that) and he's been going to boot camp classes four times a week! He's also not had a drink for 8 weeks. Reminded me that until relatively recently I'd been similar and had prioritised gym and health over booze and falling down. So I'm determined to get back on track. Having a lovely curry at the moment and then tomorrow its back on the Paleo diet, back to the gym and bye bye to booze. I'm too old to drink anyway. I always though I looked like crap the next day because of cigarettes, but I haven't had a cigarette for weeks (I know, right?) and I still looked about 36 on Monday. Look! This is what you can achieve if you concentrate on life rather than booze (Craig's dessert):

Bad blogger

I'm really not keeping up to date and I think I've identified the source of my problem - my bed. I always want to relay what I've been doing but the urge to flump around in cotton and goose down is just too strong. My new duvet and pillows are so nice I just can't think of anything I'd rather be doing than luxuriating in them. So I'm typing this from bed. Nice compromise. Being super hungover hasn't helped either. I didn't sleep in my bed for a week cause I was so busy getting drunk and falling asleep on people's sofas.

Last Saturday I went for lunch at Billy's and drank my body weight in alcohol and was treated to some delicious chicken cacciatore. We all went to the pub after and I had to go off to a quiz at Amy France's house that she was holding to raise money for a charity thing she's doing. If I hadn't left the pub I probably would've been unconscious within the hour, however, since I had a long ride on the tube I had time enough to sober up a bit. So I bought some beers, went to the quiz and then the night becomes a bit of a blur. I didn't find out quite how bad my behaviour had been until Monday because I'd left my mobile phone at home, so I spent Sunday in ignorant (albeit SUPER hungover) bliss going round the Art Car Boot Sale in Brick Lane and watching movies. I was so hungover that I'd be groaning for a couple of hours and then get these terrifying waves where I felt like I'd taken too much acid and was about to die. Fun it was not.

Anywho, as a quick example of Saturday night I offer up this lovely little story: the last time I met Stephen's flatmate Julie I was so drunk I called her a fucking bitch for not buying me a drink. Obviously I was joking but since it was the first time we'd met how was she to know? So this time I was determined to make a good impression and was pretty sure it was mission accomplished as one of my only memories of the party was giving Julie a big hug. HOWEVER, I found out on Monday that rather than saying 'hello' to her I grabbed her cardigan out of her hands, blew my nose on it, looked at the label and went 'French Connection? How vile' and threw it on the ground. Seems the overall impression of me at the party though was I'm a bit f a legend, was on amazing form and helped the whole night go with a bang ... even Julie's overall opinion of me was 'lovely'. Still, I'm pretty glad I remember nothing.

Food or no food?

Had a great night last night, Henry organised a Mexican themed gathering at his house to watch the entire series of the Rachel Zoe project. Any excuse for the gays to have a party. I made chilli and we also had chilli prawns, seafood salad, nachos (OBVIOUSLY), guac, salsa and tortillas. In typical fashion we ended up spending hundreds of pounds and catering for tens of people for a 'quiet night in'. Also had tequila slammers, margaritas, Corona and tequila sunrises (see above). Drank steadily so although I was definitely over the limit by the end of the evening I wasn't too smashed. Rachel Zoe project was really good - she obviously has all the depth and personality of a petri dish but she was surprisingly nice and obviously obsessed with fashion. I expected her to be a cynical manipulator but it seems like she at least really enjoys what she does. Although I'm not quite sure what she does - her husband is her business manager and her assistant Taylor does most of the work. It seems like she just drifts in at the last minute (giant Starbucks by her side) and points at things. Although obviously, like everyone in the fashion industry, she finds everything VERY STRESSFUL.

Much hilarity was to be found in her overly botoxed face ... she'd actually had so much botox that she SAID how she was feeling rather than expressing it on her face 'I am so happy about that right now' 'I'm really feeling very upset right now' all the while looking like a wax work of herself. Throughout the four hours or so we watched she ate one tiny scrap of food (even though other people on the show ate o more than one occasion) and the rest of the time had a giant beverage in her hand, mostly Starbucks. She looked amazing as well, although some people were a bit disturbed by the visible bones in the middle of her chest. So I'm feeling quite inspired to get back on the weightloss bandwagon now - always seems to happen when I see something so fashion centric. We all vowed at the time we were never going to eat again but since we were shovelling Mexican food into our mouths at the time and I started off this morning with a sausage/egg muffin I don't think I need to worry about eating disorders just yet.

All clear

Got the all clear from the doctor this morning ... my shoulder is not fractured! Hurrah! Means I can go back to the gym and wave excitedly at all and sundry.

Find of the century

Not a lot to report so far this week, until I get the all clear on my fractured shoulder I'm loathe to do anything too active.  I don't want to end up being the moron who went to the gym with a fractured shoulder.  Highlight of the week has to have been finding a new suit in a charity shop. Lovely place on Northcote Road, I'd seen an Empori Armani suit in there before and was sorely tempted to buy it.  However, it was £90 and I came up with a lot of reasons why it was too much. Went back and had another look and I thought they'd reduced it by £10.  Turns out it was a new Armani suit ... Giorgio Armani, Classico.  Classico was the line designed by Armani himself (since renamed) and uses the finest materials and construction methods.  Had a look at the label and it was 100% cashmere.  So I got a £3500 suit for £80.  Can't complain.

Started applying for jobs today, weather is on a down turn and I'm desperate to move out.  Sooner I can get a job the sooner I can have nice flatmates (at worst).  Got a call back about a position too!  Mind you I registered with 11 agencies and only got 1 call back.  Plus NONE of the websites came up with suitable positions.  Some of them would have thousands of jobs, I'd search for Paralegal work, any location, any sector and there would be 0 results.  Good times.

Lots Part II

On Thursday I started, drum roll please, work!  Only for three days, but involved the exchange of funds nevertheless.  I was helping out a guy with his stand at the Antiquarian Book Fair in the Olympia  Centre.  Pablo Butcher, the guy, was the husband of a friend of mum's from OUP and she'd helped him in years passed.  I showed up Thursday morning and helped him set up his stand thus:

He specialises in photographs of foreign countries and travel books about them - lots of Africa, Indian and Asia (Ukraine - Borneo and everything in between!).  Really interesting job, lots of old and very rare things to see.  Fair opened at 4 for the preview and I went home at 8:30.  The clientele were quite extraordinary - perfectly prepared to spend tens of thousands of pounds on an old book but NOT ONE PENNY on dandruff shampoo.  If I'd been a germaphobe I'd have to have showered every fifteen minutes.  Some proper English eccentrics too which was also nice to see.  One ex-military type barked at me 'Have you got anything on the area formerly known as Chinese Turkistan?' .... ummmmmmm?

I'm a huge fan of reading and a great lover of books so I'd always thought at the very back of my mind I'd get into rare book collecting.  Now I'm not so sure.  Believe me there were some EXTREMELY covetable things there.  I loved the original Art Deco graphic leather covers for sets of books and a four volume set of an encyclopedia of animals including Hydras and other mythical creatures which was £322,000!!!!!!  That was the problem - everything was insanely expensive.  The four volume animal encyclopedia I get - its beautiful, 500 years old, in amazing condition and an actual physical bit of history.  But I don't think that that should have a trickle down effect.  Pablo was pricing something up for £680 and I was thinking 'Oh I guess that's not too bad, still a bit much but ... oh wait, he's adding another 0'.  

It just seemed like books were worth what people were prepared to pay for them, everything is priced so high to try and skim off the one person crazy enough and rich enough to pay what they're asking.  A leather bound, boxed, first edition set of His Dark Materials signed by Philip Pullman - covetable? YES! £12,333?  No.  Why are they worth that?  Because other people want them? Hmmmm.  Made me very disillusioned with the whole thing.  I'd advise rebinding new books with exquisite covers, creating your own future valuables, rather than starting collecting in that market.

So the job was meant to go on for three days but I had a big bike accident cycling into work the next day.  Van pulled out suddenly from a side street, in front of me, I had to brake really hard (admittedly I was FLYING along a busy street with no helmet), it had been raining and as I swerved to avoid him my bike went down.  I smacked my head and landed heavily.  Guy didn't even notice and drove off - the reason the accident happened was because he hadn't looked in the first place.  Nice lady helped me up and looked after my bike while I went in Nero to examine my wounds.  I decided I was in OK shape and cycled off to work.  By the time I got there I had a bump the size of a grapefruit on my temple and was so confused I couldn't work out how to get into the exhibition.  I couldn't work out how to get from outside to inside, the transition between the two realms made no sense to me.  Obviously I was in great shape.  So I called Pablo to come from his other stand and went to hospital in a taxi.  

Ended up waiting FOREVER for a doctor (3/4 hours) while organising Henry and mum to cover work for me (saviours).  By the time I got in there my bump had subsided and my shoulder had started to be the main source of discomfort.  Had a few x-rays and the doctor thought I might have fractured my shoulder.  Put me in a sling and sent me home with an appointment at the fracture clinic on Thursday.  I don't think so, it really doesn't hurt any more and I've hardly worn the sling.  I can get full range of motion without anything hurting or grinding so I really don't think its fractured.  Still going on Thursday, just to be sure, of course.  It might not be fractured but it sure ain't pretty:

Lots

Haven't I been a bad blogger.  Dear me, lots to report.  The Sunday following the last time I blogged I had a picnic in glorious sunshine on Clapham Common, wore some extremely short shorts.  After everyone came back to my house and we had drinks and nibbles in the garden while getting ready to go out.  In the end Henry, three Amys, Craig, Doig and myself went to the 2Brewers on Clapham High Street EXTREMELY worse for wear.  I didn't realise that by the third drag queen one of the girls was lying on the pavement outside the club waiting to be carried home by everyone else.  Amy Murray and I stayed until 3 am.  I was so drunk that even though we left the club together we manged to get separated almost immediately in the street.  I ended up going to sleep on the common right on the busiest paths.  Eventually a guy woke me up 'Are you all right mate?' 'I'm FINE, I'm just waiting for my flatmate'.  Eventually stumbled home to bed.

As you can imagine the next couple of days were something of a write-off.  Had a wondrous evening Tuesday night though.  Went shopping all day with Debora and then went to Battersea Park to walk her very cute Miniature Jack Russell Pepe.  Such a nice Park - winding gravel pathways, a restored Victorian Sub Tropical outdoor garden, an island, tree lined roads.  Gorgeous.  We'd bought along some weed to get stoned in the Park because it was such a nice evening and this is where we ended up smoking:

Where Debora's bag is is where we were smoking and where the bright lights are there was a ... I shit you not ... reggae band playing.  So nice, bats flying overhead, duckings in the pond in front, reggae music.  Can't ask for much more!  Rest of the week

 was uneventful until Friday when I hosted book club at my house.  No one had read the book as it was changed last minute so really it was just a drinks and nibbles thing with general discussion of any books we'd read that month. Was lovely.

Last Sunday Brittany's brother Johnny arrived for two days on his way to an internship at an engineering firm in Mozambique.  Hadn't seen him since he was 14, now he's 22.  It's weird that I'm that old.  Many pints were had on the Sunday on Brick Lane and it was such a nice day I crapped out on a BBQ I'd agreed to go to.  Bad boy.  Alcohol soon eased the pain, especially after we played Kings on the roof of the Brick Lane flat - here's the view (with Johnny):

and we ended up getting Vindaloo at cinnamon.  We then went to the restaurant owners car to get high.  Got stoned and drove around the dodgy back streets of east London with the windows down, the new Eminem album BLASTING out of the car, smoking joints and all at 2am.  Was one of the strangest nights of my life, very surreal.  Ended up cycling back to Brittany's VERY drunk and staying the night.

Monday we did the best thing you can do in London and just wandered round for 6 hours enjoying the buildings and the sunshine.  Swung by Buckingham Palace, stopped off for lots of pints - us in Covent Garden:

had some Moroccan food in Soho.  Ended up at the John Snow pub drinking big bottles of organic cider with lots of ice with Harry and his friend Alexa who lives in Clapham, has just broken up with her boyfriend, is a nutritionist and a yoga teacher (I accidentally typed 'Yoda', teach you she will).  So I think I may have found my new best friend (he says, eating crisps). Finished the evening off at the Friendly Society, basement gay bar where they have barbie dolls stapled to the ceiling.  So I think Johnny got a taste of everything London had to offer

On Monday I had a picnic with Amy, Henry and Doing in Govesnor Square outside the American Embassy.  GLORIOUS sunny day.  Cycling around Mayfair cause I was there 25 minutes early.  Lovely picnic, great to see everybody.  Amy had to go back to work, Henry to the gym and Doig shopping (it was a day off work for him) and I pootled around on my bike then came home.  More to say to bring things up to date but I think I should probably post this before it becomes too big to fit on the Internet.