Howz it hangin'? What's shakin'? Whaddup? You fill in the gaps with all those other greetings people my age have no business uttering. Go on..
Anyway, i have decided that the way to go vis-a-vis blogging, is little and often. You know, like those crazy ass diets, slavishly followed by hollywood starlets, recommend. Because, alas, my mojo appears to have eloped with Naapali's muse to embark on a torrid and nasty affair in some far away land!
So Christmas party season is in full swing. We had our work do last friday and the rest of this week is just going to be a complete write off, as various teams go out on their Christmas lunches. In fact, i've just returned from one such lunch at a 'gentleman's club'. And depending on the way your brain works you're either thinking of a strip joint or an old, dusty establishment filled with old, upper-class white men smoking cigars (before the smoking ban, of course) and sipping port and/or brandy. Turned out to be the latter.
One of my colleagues actually belongs to one of these aforementioned establishment in St James' Park and for the second year running, we have had our team lunch there. This particular one does allow peasants in, as long as they are suitably dressed. Another male colleague was told he couldn't dine in the restaurant because he didn't have on a jacket. They did loan him one though, so it was ok. My boss, who is relatively new, was a bit worried as to the nature of a 'gentleman's club' and we had a running gag about poles being hidden in corners. Quite funny, actually. Unfortunately, the most exciting pieces of equipment we saw were the stair lifts attached to every stair case!
I've always had a phobia of all things electric and therefore have never had the guts to buy or use an electric blanket. Unfortunately, i'm also one of those people who cannot stand the cold. I must have warmth. Lots of it. Always. It beats me why, because i was born in the middle of the bleak, mid winter. One would therefore think that my default setting would be more favourable to cold temperatures. No chance!
I lived in a flat share last year and one of my flat mates was a Kenyan girl who was the direct opposite of me. We used to play this game in the middle of the night - i would turn the heating up to the highest setting and snuggle down under my covers for a good night's sleep, only to wake up one hour later, shivering with my teeth chattering. Why? Because this girl had turned off the heating! I've lost count of the number of times i patiently explained to her that she could actually adjust the setting on her radiator to whatever level she was comfortable with. All to no avail. So i would get up and put the heating back on and she would get up and switch it off, and so it continued. Grrrrr!!!
I now live alone in a flat with a pay as you go gas meter. It's much easier to consume gas when you have no inkling of your consumption levels until the bill arrives every quarter and you just grit your teeth and pay it. Also easy when you live with 2 others and split the bills 3 ways. Not so easy when you can actually see the meter ticking away and counting down your gas usage with breathtaking speed. Hence, in my new accomodation i do not under any circumstances leave the heating on all through the night. No sir. Not an option. I just suck it up and wear lots of layers. But that was until the proverbial light bulb pinged above my head and i went to Argos to buy an electric blanket.
I cannot explain the experience to you. It's something you have to experience yourself to fully appreciate. That first night was pure bliss! You should have seen me sliding across my bed from side to side, luxuriating in the warmth. It was...beautiful! I'm sure my moans of pleasure made the guy who lives above me (i can hear him when he snores, so he must have heard me) think i was getting some hot bedroom action. Come to think of it, i was....