No time like the present

Or in my case, no time in the present. I chose to spend the one day I had after returning from Italy, before returning to work, horizontal for 10 of the 12 waking hours in the day. I had no excuse. The holiday was relaxing and mostly care free, yet rather then checking off the list of things I wanted to accomplish on Sunday, I did nothing. Nothing including NOT updating my blog on the wonders of Valle d'Itria. I have no time today either, but in an effort to keep you interested, I wanted to at least share a few photos. Look for a full debrief in the coming days including how Cricket Boy and I fared with only one another to speak to for 8 days.*

*We are SO not those people that expect everyone to speak English wherever we travel, but alas we were a bit surprised that we didn't meet one single person on the trip who spoke any English. The Italians did think it quite funny though that I kept inserting Spanish words into my cobbled together Italian phrases straight out of the back of our travel guide

A day in the life of....

Alright kind readers, I'm off. I'll be back in July, tanned, happy and less cynical. Well, 2 out of 3 isn't bad is it? With that, I leave you with some Friday funnies from a jam packed week:

• Apparently in our 30's we are in danger of recycling our dates. I was talking to a friend today who is an active match.comer....she had someone contact her who she went out with about 7 years ago. This is confusing to me. Have we run out of men?


• Evidently I walk like an American. If someone can explain this to me, I would be most grateful. I was walking between meetings in the West End Tuesday and overheard this comment being lobbed in my general direction. There really wasn't anyone else on the street, so it was likely aimed at me. Not in a mean way, mind you, in more of a...hey look at her mate...nah mate, she's American, look at the way she's walking.


• There are never enough hours in the day to work and to have fun. If I had to pick, I think I would pick fun, but then I couldn't afford it if I didn't work. Shame that.


• Women need to understand what goes on behind them when they pair the wrong pants with trousers. It's not that warm in London at the moment, yet the birds are breaking out the white stuff. Black pash killers? Not a great match for tight white trousers


• Peeps is crazy

The One That Got Away

Inspired by an alcohol fuelled day of BBQs on Sat, loose lipped GF spilled the beans on some past suitors that have been, well less then suitable in the end. One in particular was the subject of this post and coincidentally he has been re-telling the story but turned the tables. Basically I told the dude I didn't want to see him anymore. This was on account of NicB resurfacing and my little heart knowing that it was all or nothing, I couldn't be half in half out with NicB. Septic wasn't the first bloke that lost his cool when I pulled the plug on a brief fling, but the other guy was ages ago. It came up in conversation with a mate from the US this week. She asked me if I had heard from Septic, I said I had actually and she asked if he went JP on my arse.

JP was a nice boy, a country mouse in the city if you will, who had more then a few life lessons to learn about love and relationships. I dated him on a break from one of my great loves who turned out to be a great liar. In any case, JP knew that I had recently split from someone significant. We met on a night out with friends and after enjoying some witty banter, realised that we were both going to the Modest Mouse show the next weekend. We decided to meet up there and see how things went. We had a great time, but then you would at a concert where not much idle chat is happening. We had a drink post show and agreed to meet up again for happy hour the following week. During the first martini, he was relaying a story to me about his week, how he had chatted to his mum and told her about me. Uh huh, yeah, not the right thing to say to someone who is gun shy to begin with, but also still reeling from the scorn of another. I high tailed it out of there and in a very mature 26 year old way, I just stopped returning his calls. We bumped into each other at a bar a few weeks later, I apologised and explained that my life was really complicated and that I would rather not involve anyone else in the drama. Ok, so it was partly true, but also I thought a nice way of letting the poor bloke off so he could get his deposit back on the church he had surely booked for our imminent wedding.

Fast forward about 3 months and I end up at a party which happens to be at his house (he had 3 housemates, 1 of whom had invited my friend who had invited me, and I didn't know he lived there as well). He proceeded to get extremely pissed over the course of the evening. Once he was well and truly sloshed, he thought it the appropriate time to try and re-kindle the romance that never was. He cornered me outside in front of about 30-40 people and demanded an explanation for why I jilted him. Sticking to my guns I reiterated that my life was complicated and that I preferred not to involve anyone else in the chaos. He then started shouting at me pointing out my obvious oversight of him being one of the good ones. A nice guy. A guy that girls want to marry. I'm still astonished that I let that one go, but I guess you don't know a good thing till it hits you in the face. Literally.

The moral of the story is, peeps is crazy, and it's always good until it's not. In love and break ups all is fair, but karma would say that your transgressions will come back to haunt you. Septic, I'd take back those false stories if I were you.

Things you should know about me-A caffeinated stream of consciousness

I gave a busker two quid last night simply because he was singing a Crowded House song and I really like Crowded House

• I claim to be environmentally aware, yet I use those household cleaning wipes with the bleach and antibacterial crap. I am sort of addicted to them because I am lazy. Well, busy, but whatever


• When I work from home, I work ridiculously long hours, but never get dressed and rarely shower


• I don't like cheesecake. This opens me up to all kinds of grunting, snorting and general confusion when I have to share it. When, you may ask, would one EVER have to share this type of info? Well, think about it. Does anyone you know NOT like cheesecake? It's often the dessert of choice at dinners etc as it's easy to make and everyone (but me and NicB coincidentally) likes it. I have never liked it, since as long as I can remember. So when I pass, people automatically think I am being diet conscious and start berating me. When I explain that I don't like cheesecake, they pester me into trying theirs as they are certain I will like it. You can see where I am going with this. I go to a lot of functions and parties. it happens at least once a month. I will never be one of those fools who claims to be allergic to something they don't like, so alas I continue in my agony


• I am an hounorary jewess


• I'm just an OC girl, livin in an extraordinary world. May the Sugar Shack live on, if only in our memories


• NicB needs a new name. That's not really about me, but more a plea for ideas. It has been mentioned that Cricket Boy was a much better name, although noted that he needs a new nomenclature. Talk amongst yourselves


• I don't think I can drink a grande latte any more without bouncing off the walls

Ciao Bella

I once had an Italian boyfriend, well he lived in Switzerland, but he was Italian. Like mafioso Italian. I mean not literally, but apparently his parents were big wigs. We travelled a lot together and we would literally be half way around the world and he would run into a family friend. I kid you not. One time it happened in front of other people and I was so relieved as they no longer thought I was making up stories. We lived countries apart and I think the only thing that kept me interested for more then a minute, was the way he said goodnight to me on the phone, Ciao Bella. Anyway, that actually has nothing to do with this post, but it does illustrate where my mind is...HOLIDAY mode. Per my reference in the last post, the Boy and I are headed to Italy in exactly 10 days. To most people that probably seems light years away, but to me (who has not had a relaxing holiday since xmas) it's practically all I can think about. Focusing on anything else is a chore at the moment. The picture above is the actual villa we are staying in, not even one like that or something sorta similar. THAT ONE. I think it may also be my first dignified holiday. What, you ask, does GF mean by "dignified"? Well, a friend and I were having a discussion this morning about my oldness, actually I had this discussion with 2 friends. One noticed first hand that I seem to be more mellow and the other picked it up from reading my blog. The truth is, I am far happier in my new sedated state then I was when I was out 3-5 nights a week and struggling to get out of bed most mornings. Some of it does have to do with NicB as he's a very calming factor in my life, but mostly it started with my new (not new any longer) job. Up until a month or so ago I was travelling so much that I didn't have time to hang out in a "pub or club" setting with mates. I literally got to see them like 1-2x a month, so quality time was really important to me. Wine and cheese at mine or a quiet dinner became de rigueur. When I was home for Christmas, I just decided I needed a break from the constant going out. I needed to recharge my batteries and focus on the things that I knew made me happiest. If going out fit in with that, great, but if it didn't the things on the happy list would win. So you see, I decided this morning that I am not old, rather I am dignified. On my dignified holiday, I am looking forward to, in no particular order:

• Wine tasting. Puglia is the region that exports the most wine in Italy. It's usually mixed with other wines, but apparently it's still quite good in its own right
• Olive Oil tasting
• Seafood. Coast? Italy? Need I say more?
• Cave Exploring
• Beaches. It's on the Adriatic Sea, so the beaches are meant to be tops and the water quite warm. NicB and I are both water babies, so I anticipate lots of time in the sea
• Nothing
• Read
• Not getting out of bed until I feel like it or until I decide to transport my lazy arse to sleep in the sun
• EAT! This region was conquered by every country under the sun, Romans, Greeks, Turks..so it has an amazingly diverse culinary landscape. The Boy has even decided to look into some local specialties and cook in a couple nights with fresh ingredients as we have an outside dining area and a BBQ
• Nothing
• Not go to bed until I feel like it or decide to transport my lazy arse out of the sun and into the villa

There are of course other things, but at the risk of inducing hurl reflexes from most of you, I will skip the "I'm so loved up I make myself want to vomit" things on my list. Also, I am dignified and dignified people probably skip the sweet stuff.

I am Old (Part Duex)

As a follow on to my first post on this matter, I bring you a continuation of proof that while I may look young, I am in fact old. Not old chronologically mind you, but old in my ways. It would seem that although NicB is considerably trailing in years, he's far surpassed me in old person behaviours. I blame him for my recent pensioners activities. These activities include, but are not limited to:

• Spending the better part of the last bank holiday weekend completing a Jigsaw puzzle. In my defence, this was NOT my idea. It was however addictive and I quickly got sucked in


• Booking a holiday that specifically met the requirement of seeing as few people as possible. Back in the day (erm, ok last summer) I used to book party get aways. 1 week in Ibiza, 3 weeks touring Australia with a pit stop in Singapore. When we sat down and looked at the criteria for where our holiday in a few weeks time would be, there were 4 important factors: Sun, Food, Wine, No other People. We decided on a self catering Trullo in Puglia, when I shared this locale with my friend in Milan, she said, Why so far from the people? Apparently it is known for being remote and secluded. I can't wait


• Reading an article that showed a wedding photo of Obama with the caption married in 1992 and thinking wow, he's newly married. Yeah, 1992 was 16 years ago. Somehow any year I can remember now seems like yesterday


• People have started asking me when I am going to have children. I am not married, I am not engaged and, unless other people know something I don't, I am nowhere CLOSE to either one of those things. When I responded with such to one of the women pestering me the other day, she literally said SO? So? I said. Yes (she's Italian, so this is really what she said), youa don't need be a married, this 2008, you hava a baby alone. Great, thanks. Just what I always wanted, to get knocked up and purposely set out to raise a child on my own. Even when you actually HAVE a partner it's a 50/50 crap shoot whether you will stay together through that child's upbringing. Anyway, the fact that people are asking me this leads me to believe that I am nearing a socially unacceptable age to be unmarried and baby less. Hrumph


• I have started noticing the price of things, like fruit. Bananas at X store are £3, while at X shop they are only £2.50. I do realise that the economy is tight everywhere, but still......


• I tried to be down with the kids on Wed and go out to the pub on a school night. I used to do this routinely, like 3 times a week, no biggie. I was the first person to leave on Wed at 11:30 and then spent all day Thursday in a hungover fog. I am not the girl I used to be


• I had to tick a box on a form yesterday that said 31+, there wasn't even anything else above that. 14-17, 18-24, 25-30 and then 31+....really? That's it, I am now at the end of my range. I am the OLD box


• I have a 5 year plan. The only other time I had a 5 year plan was in University, it was: finish


• NicB pinched the skin on my hand a week or so ago and exclaimed, isn't it funny how when you get older, your skin doesn't bounce back from a pinch as quickly


• He also (not on the same day), whilst trying to tell me in his special boy way that he loved all of me, threw in for good measure, even your chubby bits, I love them best. Right. Ok. I am a tiny girl and I am quite sure that up until a year or so ago, no one would have ever thought to include "chubby bits" on the list of things they loved about me


• Speaking of weight, I used to be able to shift weight by tweaking a couple of simple things. Portions or leaving out booze for a week or cutting out sugar. Now I have one day of eating poorly and it takes me a week to get back to normal, despite the fact that I am the most active person I know and run around most days like a chicken with my head cut off

That's all I have for you this week. Maybe I will start regressing soon and can write posts about how YOUNG I am getting.

I'm a lazy git

You know when it's nearing the end of the proper work day and you have to decide whether to

-start a new project, which you definitely won't finish in time to leave at a reasonable hour, or

-do bugger all for the next couple of hour and a half

Could be down to too much wine being consumed on a school night and staying out past curfew, but I think it's a common theme in my career. Although I tend to opt for the first one which is why I end up working 12 hours a day instead of 10. Bah.