This is going to be fierce

I don't have any money these days. I spent it all going on the most amazing adventure ever and now it's all gone, I am having to think about unromantic things like maybe not being in my overdraft all the chuffing time or repairing my car or making some kind of savings. These things are not my strong point but I am beginning to realise that "marry someone richer than me" is not a stable plan for the future, being as I've been working to the plan for six months and remain fiercely independant.

The money thing also means that I haven't had any fun for the last two months. This is the reason I haven't written anything funny or interesting since I stepped off the train in Nottingham on October 20th. It's not that nothing good has happened - it's just that when my spirits are low I don't have energy to spare to documenting the highs and minutae of keyboards with no spacebar or 'a' key, or the £million project I've been on, or the current house slang.

But this coming month is looking fierce. And lord knows I miss ferocity in all its myriad twisting forms.

In terms of future living; I am going to quit my job. It is like an albatross around my neck, albeit an albatross with the odd bit of tinsel tied to it. Instead, I am going to go and work somewhere with people who inspire me; with work that excites me; with places and projects of reckless endangerment.

But I can't do this until June because in April I get some more holiday time and in June I get a big fat bonus. Life ties you down, man. But it also pays the airfare.

Store visiting

As part of my job, I have to spend two days working in store in Q3. Today was one of my days. I chose to spend the day with Nicolas, the hot new boy on my team, who I haven't really gotten to know over the last six months that he's been 'new'.

It never fails to amaze me how other people can be different to me. Nicolas is a lot of things I would like to be; calm, mature, funny, well-structured and unfailingly polite. He's good to have around, because he makes me strive to be a nicer person.

So that's it, that's the whole story. It was a good day, we had a nice lunch, I'm completely exhausted, and I'm 4.5 percentage points better than I was this morning for it.

dress me up in stitches

Just as an aside

I'd forgotten how completely all-encompassing and awe-inspiring that feeling is, the one where you feel sick and dizzy to look at someone. How you crave their attention, and how nothing else will do, and yet also how you are completely mute and borderline retarded because you don't even really want to interact with them, knowing that one of you will inevitably find the experience a tragic disappointment.

I'm not interested in happy endings, I just like shyness, and that guarded smile.

performance and cocktails

FIRST: It is SNOWING! Zoe and I just went outside to prance around as if we'd never seen the stuff before.

SECOND: This is a list of things I've done since I last got my mucky paws on a keyboard.

Thursday 8th:

Left work at 4.30pm; bent my key in my cardoor and nearly to had abandon it on a petrol station forecourt. I overcame this obstacle in order to drive 150 miles from Nottingham to Durham. Google Maps told me the journey would take me two and a half hours; it has since come to light that in actual fact this would require an average speed of around 100mph. As a confident - yay, even fearless - driver of automobiles, this would not be too daunting, if it weren't for a) fear of crosswinds from hell and b) European hauliers. Nevertheless, I made the journey in a reasonable amount of time to arrive at my superfly brother's house, who had secured us tickets to see British Sea Power as they live and breathe and play instruments.

We got the train to Newcastle and went to a real live church, wherein the band played our favourite songs (although not 'Something Wicked') and it was generally one of the best performances I've seen. They are an amazing band and for once my new-found love for dressing like I've just dropped out of the 1940s was not out of place.

We made it home through the mean streets of Newcastle and I slept for four hours, before getting up and racing the police back down the motorways in time to go straight to work. Usually, I would tell someone that a three hundred mile round trip is a stupid thing to do in the middle of the week in order to see a band who might come to Nottingham soon anyway, but I give terrible advice at the best of times and this was totally, totally worth it.

Saturday and Sunday 10th & 11th;

I drove back up the motorway again and got lost in Leeds! I was visiting Rachel and Danny who are enviably grownups with a beautiful house and lovely families and a wedding to plan, which does make me feel like a bit of a loser in my rented house with the leaking roof and recently failed grown-up relationship, but I am so so happy for them, and grateful for a lovely weekend in and around Le.

Tuesday 13th:

A month or so ago, I came back from monsoon-ridden Thailand, and on my first day back in the office my colleague asked if I would like to go and see The Stereophonics at Nottingham Arena with him, as one of our suppliers wanted to wine and dine us. It was joy as I have rarely known, and needless to say I jumped all over him and come last Tuesday, I spent the evening wearing the most expensive outfit ever to grace Nottingham Arena's Executive Suites, dancing to music which I still love even now I'm not 15. It was great, despite The Enemy as support.

Friday 16th:

On Thursday night I didn't leave my office until 7:30pm. I am mired in a huge and stupidly important project which makes me joyfully happy sometimes, and suicidal the rest of the time. I wasn't in the best of moods on Friday morning but I pulled it out of the bag to take part in Wobble Boarding, Pizza Hut Luncheon, and in the evening, I spent three hours taking calls as part of the live Children-in-Need TV show.

This turned out to be the highlight of my week. I was nervous to start with, then it was great fun. Then the most hilarious man in the world phoned me, and to get the full benefit of this story you need to make me tell it to you in person. But, just imagine your basic alcohol-soaked bar-propper, completely sodden, late on a Friday night, and you've got the basic character.

ME: Good evening, BBC Children in Need, how would you like to make your donation?
HIM: YEAH I'M IN A WHEELCHAIR £100 BENEFITS MR WOGAN
ME: Ah . . . I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.
HIM: IS THIS REAL OR IS IT FAKE? IS THIS LIVE?
ME: Yep, this is real, we're taking all calls live. How would you like to donate to Children in Need?
HIM: I'M IN A WHEELCHAIR AND I'LL GIVE £100 OF MY BENEFITS I WANNA SPEAK TO TERRY WOGAN OR IS THIS FAKE.
ME: Er, we are live, but I'm afraid I can't let you speak to Terry Wogan. We're based in Nottingham, not Television Centre.
HIM: WELL FUCK OFF THEN

and then he hung up. I've never been so startled and amused.

He did make a valid philosophical point, though.

It's official

I still love you, Kelly Jones. Even after all this time.

You are the only rock star with rock-star hair and aviators and flares not skinny jeans. And I love you for it all.

T minus twelve hours to Weekend Hangouts

I'm covered in fake tan yet again.

This isn't going to have a happy ending.

Also, we need to talk about British Sea Power and how they are worth seven hours of sleepless road death.

But that will have to wait until I harden.

Fabulous Deathwish Adventure Holiday

Fireworks are such a democratic medium