Plus the realisation that the next triathlon I have signed up for - along with Brazilian Babe and the lovely Wine Writer, training partners in times of
Hmmm, not good.
So this week I took up the offer to attend a private screening of a new film (Restrepo, not for the faint-hearted but highly recommended if you have any view on the war in Afghanistan) with my new soon-to-be partner in snap-happy crime.
Whilst the film takes some digesting and is certainly food for many thoughts, zipping up to Soho on the vespa with BB as my passenger had us performing a running commentary about the people we passed en route. And no, she is not hermetically attached to my persona in case you were wondering, she just conveniently had a meeting to get to in loco at the same time. Scooter transport was by far the best option. I could have then happily sat in Old Compton Street post screening with the ladies and just people-watched for hours.
What's that? Did I have my camera with me? Did I heck. Of course. But we were busy talking, you see. And planning. And scheming. And comparing diaries.
Plus I was still slightly dazed after a very late night with the Vegemite Vixens, that very exclusive club, which saw me return home at 1.30am and catch a mere 4 hours sleep. Considering only two of them were drinking (you know who you are), it was a very loud, very raucous and very funny evening. Hats off to you ladies for making the blogsphere more tangible and realistic. So what if our other halves do not 'get it'. Pah.
Oh yes. And I fended off a few calls from headhunters. Despite it being quiet this time of year, there is still activity going on and the urgent request for a synopsis about my ability to perform certain tasks (not related to either taking photos or making sarcastic remarks, funnily enough) was dealt with promptly. Although in my sleep-deprived state I did have to re-read the blurb a few times to ensure I had not written 'bollocks', 'f*ck' or 'innit'.
Although I think I signed off the email with 'Laters'. So will just have to wait and see if that headhunter comes back to me.
Or if she has a sense of humour.
p.s. And since it seemed like a good idea at the time, I also - finally - moved the blog to a proper custom domain of its own. No more extensive typing to locate the site. And it should all re-direct automatically. Yippee!
Or so I was led to believe. I am a sucker for punishment here, despite reading the instructions umpteen times.
Except of course - of course - the comments have gone doolally again. Some are there, some are not, some are still under the old address, some have decided they have had enough and pissed off to see other funnier bloggers. I had been warned as well by another lovely VV (Vegemite Vixen, keep up will you?). Tsk.
Sorry? Do I work in technology? Err, yes, now that I think about it. But my standard answer to the kids wanting to put a DVD on is the classic "Ask your father." He does the gadgets. I do the finance.