Fair Verona

I got back from Verona last Friday and thought you might like to see some pictures. I only went for four days but I have a loads of photos so I'm going to do a general post now and another one on food later! The food in Italy is absolutely lovely and their pastries make ours look like dog shit in comparison frankly. 

View away from Verona from Castel San Pietro

It was my 42nd birthday while I was away. I always go away for my birthday which takes the edge off getting older - something I'm not keen on even though it's inevitable of course. I highly recommend it. We went for a really great meal in the evening and had a table overlooking the Ponte Pietra and Adige river. The wine list was PAGES long and went right up to 350 euros a bottle! We didn't have one of those.

The weather was really good. It rained the first day but every other day was sunny and warm with dusky, hazy sunshine which made sitting outside café's on the piazza's really pleasant. We did quite a bit of that and had some lush coffees too which often came with free biscuits and wine which came with a bowl of complimentary salted crisps!

The highlight for me was the Arena. I do like an Amphitheatre and this is the third largest one in Italy. They host opera performances earlier in the year which look incredible. It was the one thing I really wanted to see and it was free to get in with the 'Verona Pass'. The pass costs 10 euros for a day or 15 euros for two days and got you into loads of places for free or provided a discount for some others. Most sights were six euros so it was definitely worth buying.

 I decided two things whilst I was away: 

1) This was the third time I've noticed that four days is a day too long when visiting a European city. So I should now start to act on this and stop going away for four days when three is enough! Three full days seems to be enough time to take in the main attractions and sights and to also chill out and just get a feel for a place by people watching and wandering.

2) I think I'm going to travel alone a lot more from now on. My friend was fine but, perhaps because she's 10 years younger than me, she's very preoccupied with her appearance, men and calories which I find quite dull. On the last day we were going to get the train to Venice and I decided I just fancied a day by myself so we did out own thing. And I loved that day! 

Being alone gave me a real one-to-one personal experience which 'cemented' Verona for me. I had woken up feeling a bit narky but as soon as we decided to spend the day apart, I felt fine. So I think from now on I may just travel by myself. You don't have the whole 'are you hungry, shall we eat now?', 'what do you want to do today?', 'shall we eat here or somewhere else?', 'are you ready to go now?' type of questions when you're by yourself - you can just do whatever takes your fancy and I like doing that more than I like having company.

Three days is definitely long enough to see Verona. It wasn't as picturesque as other Italian cities I've visited but it was still absolutely lovely and other Italian places spoil you with their attractiveness I think! My friend hadn't ever been to Italy and she thought it was beautiful. It's also very centralised and really easy to get your bearings, so after a day you kinda knew where things were and what direction to head in.

We went up the Torre Dei Lombardi which is a massive tower in the centre. There are 289 steps up to the top and I felt every one. There is a lift but we though we'd walk off our morning croissant with Nutella (Nutella is BIG in Italy!). The view was well worth the pain as you can see. 

Verona is of course famous for Romeo and Juliet and they do milk it somewhat. Funnily enough it was the only disappointing part of the trip - tourists go to Juliet's house (even though she wasn't real) and people (mainly men) queue up to cop a grope of the left boob of her statue "for luck" it's a tradition apparently. The house was just full of Romeo & Juliet images in literature and film but I was more interested in the origins of the 13th century house they'd acquired for the purpose. Neither me or my friend took one photo inside the house actually.

Nice pics huh? I know you can see them in my Instagram photo stream in the sidebar, but it's better to see them in their full glory I reckon. My next post will be some scrummy food ones - get ready for the dolci people!

Blogging Challenge Day 5: Profess My Lurve For a Blogging or Real-Life Chum

So the whole title is 'Publicly profess your love and devotion for one of your Blogger friends. What makes them great? Why do you love them? If you don't have Blogger friends, talk about a real-life friend or even a family member'.

This is quite a difficult one as although I've 'known' a few of my Blogger mates some time and I've even met the formidable and inspirational Wolynski when I went to Vegas. Superlative and Unknown Housewife are also rather marvellous but I don't know any of them well enough to be able to profess my devotion to them. Respect and admiration yes - love and devotion no.

I was going to write about my bestest buddyroo (she comments on here as NP) as she's like a sister to me and I adore her, would take a bullet to save her, and would give her my best kidney if she needed it - but she's not a Blogger as she has a life. Then I remembered La Tarzane (aka the person I write to on here as Star Trek Girl) although she's been really slack and hasn't posted for months, she's forgiven because she's incredibly busy doing terribly important work, plus she has a new fella which keeps her 'occupied'.

La Tarzane is a.mazing. She was introduced by a mutual friend who said of her before we met "you'll love her, she's just really, really nice" and suspicious sceptical me remembers narrowing my eyes behind her back and thinking "hmmm nobody is that nice". But she was - and more!

She's such a role model that If I couldn't be me then I'd want to be her. I've never met anyone who has so many talents; she speaks 6 or 7 languages, her CV would make you blush, she always has time for everyone despite anything going on in her own life, she's generous, modest, intelligent, attractive, easy-going, patient, thoughtful, and has impeccable judgement. If she says something is a certain way then it just is. You don't question the woman. You want to hate her but you can't because she's just so awesome - in the actual true meaning of the word. 

I'm a person who can find faults in literally anyone dead or alive, but it really is very hard to find fault with her. If I had to pick something then it's that she's far too reasonable and non-judgemental and it's hard to engage her in any kind of bitching. She fence-sits a bit but that's because she always sees both sides of the argument and understand the nuances of 'grey areas'. As a very black and white person, this is slightly maddening for me, but I was stretching to find something. She has to use these qualities in her job so it's very handy she possesses them. 

She's supportive, generous with her time, and I don't think there's isn't anything she can't do if she wanted to. When I shared a house with her I came in one day and she was in the kitchen making pasta... from scratch. Rolling it out and everything. At the time she was volunteering on the Paris Love Parade, teaching kids in the day, working in a call centre in the evening, doing overnight and weekend stints at a girls school, and learning to ride a motorbike so she could pass her test and earn extra cash before she went off to teach in Indonesia. And the woman was just making some pasta like she had nothing better to do. She's even DJ'd at Manumission for God's sake!

I've rarely ever seen her get annoyed or stressed either. A situation so extreme where you or I would be punching someone hard in the face, throwing furniture through windows, or rolling around on the ground screaming ourselves hoarse, would leave her merely inconvenienced yet pragmatic and ready to find the best in the situation and move on. She's like frigging Buddha.

So I profess my love and devotion to my Blogger and good friend La Tarzane cos she is one of the most marvellous people that I ever had the fortune to meet. I'm incredibly glad she's part of my life because she adds so much to it. It's not so much 'what would Jesus do, it's more like 'what would La Tarzane do'? because whatever she'd do would simply be the best thing. She's brilliant.

It Feels Like Christmas is Coming!

* Warning - geeky blog post 

2 loooooooong years ago the wonderful J.J Abrams blew us all away with a new and improved re-booted Star Trek franchise, and in a few equally long days I will get to see the much awaited second film: Star Trek Into Darkness and I CANNOT FREAKING WAIT!!! In fact, I can feel the excitement welling up inside me just typing this.

I feel fit to burst with excitement about the prospect of seeing the new film and have barely been able to contain myself during the lead up. I sqeeeeeeal out loud every time I see a trailer and eeeeeek inside when I see one of the posters in the street. I know it's geeky but I fucking LOVE Star Trek. I'm a proud Trekker and I don't care who knows it.

I must have seen the (now old) Star Trek film at least 20 times and saw it 3 times at the cinema alone. It is brilliant. The actors were so perfectly chosen for their roles and even the copious lens flare doesn't (inertial) dampen my adoration of the new franchise. Tonight the friend I went to visit in France arrives on a business trip, and next week Star Trek Girl aka La Tarzane (the clue's in the name there) will also be in the UK for a couple of days so the timing was perfect for us to see the new release.

Both of them are also shameless Trekkers and therefore the perfect people to watch the film with. Next Sunday we will use the tickets that I purchased within minutes of them going on sale weeks ago and sit back and watch a 3D masterpiece - for it will be so as the trailers are magnificent and initial reviews are also promising - plus we just fucking love Star Trek so I foresee no complaints (I hear it's a non-stop action-packed onslaught which sounds simply brilliant) and I totally fancy Benedict Cumberbatch as well so a free added bonus for me.

Funnily enough although I adore Star Trek I'm not that fussed about the original series or even the films before the reboot. I do watch The Next Generation, Deep Space 9, and I love Voyager as well. Most people prefer DS9 out of them all but I'm a Voyager gal personally.

J.J Abrams has also signed up to take on the next Star Wars film and he's such a brilliant film maker that I reckon he'll do a great job on that too. Although to be honest they couldn't actually get any worse. 

If I'm this excited now, can you imagine how I'm going to be next weekend?!

It's Not a Question of Opinion Actually

I think I've realised why I'm single and I have to say that I really don't mind.   

I've got a newish friend who I've been meeting for coffee now and again over the past few months. I met him through some other friends and we seem to get on well (no romance ideas by the way), and the other day he mentioned that he hadn't seen the 2009 JJ Abrams Star Trek remake yet. Obviously I was shocked. As a proud Trekker I felt it my duty to remedy the situation immediately so I invited him round to watch the film. So far so good.

So he came over and it all started off nicely enough. we watched the film and all was well. But then we started talking about current events and this was when the trouble began.

Obviously Britain's vilest dictator had just popped her clogs so this was one of the topics of discussion. Now, I'm ok with a difference of opinion but when you get to the point when you disagree so vehemently that you just want to punch the other person in the face it's best you stop and simply agree to disagree. Well that's what I asked for anyway. 

Let me first also mention that I really hate people that 'play devils advocate' just for the sake of it. Apart from La Tarzane who can do no wrong and advocates for a living, just have an effing opinion will you? I hate it when people try to play devil's advocate just because they think my little mind has never considered the other side of a story. No, I've considered it and I've formulated an opinion thank you. This is how it works when you spend some of your life thinking about things.

What pissed me off wasn't that we disagreed over politics, it was that I told him I wanted to drop the subject as I was getting angry and that we'd fall out if he continued, and he just carried on. If you know me you can imagine how I felt about that; let's just say it did not go down well. What also didn't help is that earlier we'd been discussing horse racing and I said I had a very high success rate of picking winning horses. I'd worked at a racecourse and I knew what all the data on the race card meant - plus I just had a flipping good rate of picking winners. So this was not simply my opinion, but a statement of fact.

But oh no - he disagreed with my experience and the evidence I provided. He said that if it was that easy then everyone would be picking winners. I explained that it wasn't easy but outlined my process and said I actually did quite well using this elimination method. But still he poo-pooed me. Unbelievable. And this is exactly one of the reasons why I left my ex boyfriend. Neither of them could get their head around the concept that I wasn't asking their opinion, I was stating a fact. You can discuss my reasoning of course, but to actually call it into question or dismiss it is like prodding a tiger with a stick. 

None of my female friends feel the need to debate or question my opinions unsolicited. Yes,

they might ask why I feel a certain way but they never question its validity, and if I say I want to drop a subject then they do. It has only ever been male friends or boyfriends who think they have the right to call into question how I feel. It wasn't up for debate and their opinion was not required nor requested - and yet they continued to feel the need to do this even when met by resistance and then hostility.

And would you believe, the next day the idiot had the gall to email me a link to some political data to enforce his opinion even after I told him that I didn't want to talk about it any more. Incredible. Just like my ex, it didn't matter what I wanted, he had to push the matter. I did not take at all well to this and I won't repeat what I emailed back.

It just amazes me that people do this. If I get to the point where I'm warning a person to back off then I really mean it, I'm not just saying it for a laugh. I did this with my ex on occasion and told him he would not like the results if he continued with a certain line of behaviour. He ignored this quite open and honest warning, carried on doing it, I ended up leaving him, and he was baffled at why that happened. If I tell someone that something really annoys me and they keep on doing it then they're clearly a dunce and shouldn't be surprised at the results.

I've never really understood why people do this yet at the same time I don't really care. A friend recently mentioned that he'd noticed that I've never seemed interested in working out people's motives and I replied that was because I didn't see a point to it. I've never felt a need to and you'll never fully know why people do things (they don't often know themselves) so it'll ever only be speculation which is a waste of time. Plus it's their job to work out why they do things not mine; I'm not a psychiatrist nor do I want to be one. I'm only interested in the effect of their actions on me if I'm honest!

And this I believe may be the reason why I'm single. I won't allow anyone to tread on or question my opinions or feelings on a subject and it's always boyfriends (or potential boyfriends) who seem to think that I don't mean what I say or know my own mind. Well this trait is very fixed in me; it's one of the main threads of my character and is never going to be otherwise. People can debate a subject with me but they're not welcome to debate the way I feel about it. And woe betide the person that pushes the issue once I've told them to stop. 

Rant over - I'm off to get my roots done and have coffee with people who don't question me. Have a lovely weekend!

How Nice It Was To Go To Nice

I completely forgot to write up the trip to France that I took a few weeks ago. As you recall I was in desperate need of a break and decided to go and visit a friend of mine who lives in a tiny place in France. Where he lives isn't even big enough to be described as a village so I guess you'd call it a Hamlet.

I flew out of freezing cold England on Saturday afternoon and arrived an hour and a half later in Nice. My friend collected me and we went to have dinner at his friends house in a very beautiful picturesque medieval town called Tourettes-Sur-Loup (I kid you not). Although it was dark when we arrived I could tell that the place was stunning. Luckily we visited again on my way back to the airport as I really wanted to take some photos.

We had a lovely evening at his friends house. I was greeted with the strongest gin and tonic I've ever had and we sat outside on the rooftop terrace and ate little biscuits while the Goan fish curry did its thing on the stove. There were 2 other people there and the conversation flowed in a mixture of English and French - we discussed nuances of language and tried to convince the 2 French visitors that is was indeed called the English Channel!

Where my friend lives - view from his house!

Then unfortunately our lightweight host then had to go and lie down with a whitey. They'd been smoking quite a lot and he had imbibed a lot of gin and champagne. The curry was turned off and we occupied ourselves for the next hour or so until we realised that it was getting really late so we should sort dinner out for ourselves! By the time we left for the hour and a half drive to my friends house it was gone midnight - and I had been up since 7am.

My friends little gite is heated by a wood burning stove so you can imagine how heavenly that smells, he chucked some wood in and we turned in for the night (separately may I add - he is actually just a friend not a love interest!). After a toasty night I threw open the wooden shutters (one of the best things about European houses in my opinion) the next morning to be greeted by a bright and sunny Provence morning so we decided to go out for coffee to a village where his (extraordinarily handsome but married) neighbour had a beautiful shop.

The neighbours gorgeous little shop

And this is pretty much how I spent the next 3 days. No laptop, no phone, just me and my Kindle sitting outside (often with a hot water bottle, the wind coming off the snow-covered nearby mountains was a little chilly) reading a biography on the inimitable Martha Gellhorn. I ate a lot of French bread with pate and goats cheese and drank milky coffee all day. Then when I got a bit cold I would go back inside and warm myself by the stove. In the evenings I read at the table in front of the stove in his toasty little kitchen and we would chat until late. It was great.

On my last day we decided to leave his place late morning and spend the whole day meandering back down to Nice where my flight was leaving at 8pm. We had coffee and croissants in Bargemon then went to Fayence where it was market day. I bought some cured meat and the most wonderful Comte cheese and we wandered up to the ancient battlement and viewed the valley bathed in sunlight spreading out below us. It was gorgeous. I later found out that while I was basking in the sun that afternoon, Brighton was experiencing a blizzard!

Medieval Village of Tourettes

After Fayence we drove back down to Tourettes which must be one of the most beautiful places in France. It's known as the City of Violets which has to be one of my favourite smells. The village was enchanting and so photogenic I'm amazed my friend didn't just start to drag me along! After taking a billion photos there we then drove to Cagnes-sur-Mer to see the old castle at the top of the hill.

Getting out of that teeny village proved to be a different matter. The one-way 'street' that my friend had to squeeze down was so tight that I had my hands over my eyes most of the time. He actually managed to rip the wing mirror off the car on the side of a house and how we got out of there was a miracle. These places were built before cars and there was no way we could turn around so we just had to keep on inching forward while praying for the best.

Then it was a nice smooth ride back down to Nice where I caught my plane home. In the queue to board the plane there was a woman behind me who had joined from the side - she was definitely trying to push in which is like a red flag to the British. I was having none of it and kept blocking her every snidey move. Then guess who I was sitting next to on the plane? Yup, the pusher-in hag. 

Once on board this shameless harridan (I meant it, queue jumping is despicable to us) she then raised her game by composing a long email with the irritating button sound on, painted her nails with a nasty shade of Chanel coral polish which stank to high heaven, then she sat back to have a sleep and gave a sniff every 6 seconds until I wanted to punch her in the face. But apart from that the journey was fine!

It was brilliant to see my friend and the break was exactly what I needed. It was a Goldilocks kind of holiday - not too short, not too long, not too active, not too quiet, not too hot, not too cold, and with just enough food and conversation. It was perfect.

One Week Until Digital Detox (Kindle Excluded)

This time next week I'll be cooling my boots in France and I can't bloody wait. I've got a friend that lives about one and a half hours drive north of Nice and I'm flying out to see him Saturday evening and staying there until Tuesday night. I cannot tell you how much I need this break.

I've been once before as he part-rents the place with my friend La Tarzane who's currently living and working in Oman. She paid for me to fly out and stay with her there about 6 years ago after I landed my dream job a few weeks before. It's pretty much in the middle of nowhere with hills and trees all around the place. I think you can see some mountains as well if I recall.

All I want to do is to read my Kindle, drink coffee and wine and eat some nice food. I'm not taking my laptop, I'm turning my phone off and I just want to wrap up and sit outside with my hot water bottle and read. I'm happy to hang out with my friend of course, but otherwise I just want to be left alone. I really need a digital detox and to just relax. I need a break like you won't believe.

My friend has asked me to bring some pork and apple sausages, some tea, and some cheese. Yes, the man who lives in the land of cheese wants me to bring over some flippin Cheddar! I'm assuming I can get these things through customs; although they might be a bit offended that I'm bringing British cheese into France. 

Last time I went there I got stopped at customs. They'd spotted my hot water bottle and were baffled as to what it could be. La Tarzane came back through and started explaining what it was (she is half French) and they still didn't get it. Then she said something else to them, they all laughed, then they waved me through. She never told me what she said but I'm guessing it wasn't complimentary. Well it get's cold in England alright?! 

I'll try and take some photos so you can see what it's like there, but I simply cannot wait to relax and do nothing except eat and read all day. I'm even taking another day off after I get back - I'm going to put my out of office on and be unobtainable for a change. and I CAN'T WAIT!

Leaving The House Once in a While

When it looked like I was going to be getting a dog one of my friends (ironically called Kat) asked if I wanted to go to a dog walking get-together that she'd seen on a website called Meetup. Obviously the dog thing didn't work out but I did discover there were a ton of other groups on the site that I was interested in.

Now I really love my own company but I like that I have the choice whether to stay in or not. I do like an evening in but know that if I don't keep an eye on it then I could end up as a recluse! Plus I think one of the reasons that it didn't work out with my ex is that we didn't have the same outlook on life (he's a depressive who only socialises to drink) and we didn't always like to do the same things in our spare time. 

I would often spend most of the weekend by myself or with a friend wandering flea markets and people-watching in cafe's when I should have been doing these things with him. Maybe if I'm to ever get another boyfriend (I'm not actively looking by the way) then it might help if we have similar interests!

On meetup you put in your interests and where you live and it finds groups within a specified radius from where you are and you can even create your own group if you fancy it. I've joined 3 groups so far: The Movie Club where they go and see a film then talk about it over a drink afterwards, The Independent Coffee Shop Group where you just meet up for a coffee strangely enough, and The Non-Fiction Book Club.  

I went to the Book Club one last month which was great. There were 14 of us in the back room of a pub (I sat too near the open fire and nearly died of heat stroke over my mulled cider - lesson learned) and we discussed Proust Was a Neuroscientist. There were actual scientists in the group so the conversation was really interesting. I didn't stay until the end as I decided to go and see The Impossible (Tsunami film) at the flicks, but I will stay next time. 

Yesterday I went to one of the Coffee Group get-togethers and met with 3 other women in a cafe near my house (this is why I went). One of them was kinda cool but I didn't know what expression to pull when one lady started to tell me about some lala Meetup group she goes to which seems to be based on 'The Secret' where you kinda wish things to happen and lo they become so. The organiser channels some celestial being apparently. I very nearly laughed in her face and suggested we inform the starving people of Africa what they've been doing wrong. She could see I wasn't receptive and the subject was changed quite quickly.

I haven't been to the Movie one yet but may already have made myself unpopular. 18 women have decided that it wouldn't be at all a sad and pathetic thing to go and see Breakfast at Tiffanys on Valentines Day. I didn't say this (but it is) however I did mention on the thread that I wasn't interested in going as I thought it was terribly over-rated and a film about 2 needy, unlikeable prostitutes  - one of whom wears a nice dress at some point - wasn't really my bag. Nobody commented back but it should be interesting when I finally do get to meet them all.

So I'm liking Meetup so far. I've met some interesting people (and a bonkers deluded one) and I'm really looking forward to the next non-fiction group meeting. I'm not sure if the website is UK only but it's a great way to meet people, especially if you're new to a town. They have all kinds of groups including religious, sporty, drinking and dining, reading, scrabble, and just general socialising ones. It's getting me out of the house a bit anyway which can only be a good thing.

Nineteen Homes in Eighteen Years

Regular readers will know that I have moved house a load of times. But I'm not really sure if you're aware exactly how many times it's been. Well my next house will be move number 19... And that's only since I moved to Brighton!

#1 - this was the first place I moved in to when I arrived in Brighton at the end of October 1994 a week before my 23rd birthday. It was a diddy ground floor bedsit with a shared bathroom. It was an absolute dive with an electricity meter that ate 50p's - but I was happy because I had a place all to myself in this amazing new town by the sea. This is when I got my little cat Fraidy.

#2 - this was a huge four-storey, four-bed shared house where an assortment of people passed through. We had a flat roof terrace and spent a lot of our time doing things we shouldn't.

#3 - a two-bed place with a garden where I lived with three consecutive nightmare flatmates. A girl I knew from my old town who washed her clothes after every time she wore them, a guy who I had to teach how to wash up, and another guy who was such a disgusting slob that you couldn't see the floor of his room. I had to move out when he stopped paying his rent.

#4 - the only other time I lived on my own. I loved this little one-bed flat but couldn't afford to stay once the rent reached £100 per week. Finding a place at that price here would be impossible now.

#5 - a lovely, sunny four-bed house with a garden that I eventually lived in three separate times.  I can't remember why I moved from here the first time.

#6 - a first floor, three-bed flat right under the train viaduct. We had nightmare noisy, thuggish downstairs neighbours who made our lives a misery. I have no idea why we chose this flat cos it was terrible. When I left I took the neighbours electricity key - and I have NO idea where you would get one of them from. AND they were already on emergency haha!

#7 -  this is when I moved up to Yorkshire to be with a guy I'd fallen in love with. We moved to his folks first for a few weeks before our house was ready, but I won't count this one as two moves! I lived with him for a year before I could bear it no longer and came back to Brighton. I loved him but I loved Brighton more. I'd always thought was home was where you made it, but when I had the chance to test this theory, it turned out it wasn't true for me. I am a southern gal.

#8 - I'd gotten a job through Star Trek Girl working at her friends pub (he is the person I still work for at the festivals now) however there was a six week gap before the flat above the pub became free so I moved into the spare room back at house #5. as friends of mine were still living there.

#9 - the pub. I started as Assistant Manager then moved up to Manager. I lived there a couple of years before I moved out as I'd had enough of living and working in the same place. Everyone knows your business and you're always at work!

#10 - I stayed with a boyfriend for the three week interim before I moved back in to house #5. I'm counting this one as I moved all my stuff there... before I moved it all back out again!

#11 - back to sunny garden house #5 for the third time! I lived there for a while until a new flatmate came and changed the dynamics. She had lost a sister to suicide, so when the other flatmate's brother killed himself, they bonded together and turned on me for some reason. It all came to a head when the new flatmate (who was also an alcoholic with self-harm issues) sent a nasty text about me to the other girl - but accidentally sent it to me instead.

#12 - so I moved next door! I'd been friends with our neighbour and his 2 daughters for a long time by now and jumped at the chance to rent one of his spare rooms. It was supposed to be temporary until I found somewhere else. I just needed to leave the bitch house to be honest.

#13 - moving up the road into a two-bed with a friend I used to live with at #5 (are you following this?) we moved into the flat that he found at short notice because his tenancy was running out - but it had no bath, no heating, and horrendous noisy music-student neighbours. They played the drums at all hours and you could hear their banal conversations through the walls. We used to smack the wall with a baseball bat but we really wanted to smack them instead.

#14 - so I moved into a friends two-bed flat with her. She used to be my Assistant Manager when I managed the pub, her flatmate was about to move out, and the timing was perfect. This was the lovely, happy home I was living in when I started writing this blog. This has been my favourite place to live and I only moved out when her boyfriend moved in once his own lease was up. Fair enough - they now have a baby with another on the way! This was the flat I lived in when I decided to go freelance, when Fraidy died and when I got Dexter.

#15 - I had nowhere to go as I had just gone freelance and was working all Summer at festivals with only a week or two between them so had no time to look. I moved in with a girl I had just gotten to know  as she needed a new flatmate. But within just a few weeks Dexter was killed by a car and I couldn't bear to stay there any longer. I also had no phone reception, she was weird and only slept on the sofa, and I lived so far out of town in one week I had taken 25 buses. I wasn't at all happy there.

#16 - I then stayed with a woman I used to work for years ago. It looked great on paper but I only stayed 6 weeks or so as her house was smoky, filthy, and she was quite needy. I was pretty depressed at this point and, looking back, it was the lowest point of my life. 

#17 - I hated living in the dirty house so moved back into house #12 for the second time when his tenant moved out. I hoped this would again be just for a short time as it wasn't the ideal situation. He was very easy going, the house was tidy, and I felt comfortable there though.

#18 - I met my boyfriend and moved in with him after three months of being together. We thought each other was 'the one'. It turned out we were wrong and I made the decision to move out after two years together.

#19 - this is the one-bed flat I will be moving to next week. My client has signed for and paid a one-year lease so I know I'm ok until then at least. It's lovely and I think I will be happy there. I have decided that I will move from here only when they drag me kicking and screaming from the property. I am determined to afford it myself even if my client doesn't renew. Not least because I don't want to keep bloody moving!

I just worked out that I also moved 7 times between leaving my parents house and moving to Brighton. I'm a person that really likes to have a secure and lovely home so it's odd that it's something that's so far evaded me. I never felt at home at my parents either - one day my Mum angrily said to me "this is our house and you just live here", I remember replying "so where's my home?" dreadful really.

So wish me luck on move number 19 next Friday. May it be the last one for a while because my best friend is absolutely sick of buying Welcome to Your New Home cards for me.

Star Trek Girl Post - How Christmas Went Down

Hi Star Trek Girl. I hope you had a brilliant Christmas over in Muscat. I'm sure I'll speak to you soon on Skype but here is a run down of how the weekend went for us. I know I've mentioned it before but I do so love Christmas. For me it's not about religion or presents but twinkly lights, candlelight, sentimental TV, and chocolate! 

I think it should be what you make it and want it to be rather than what you think you should be doing or always do - which is over-eating (ahem!) over-buying, spending time with people you don't want to, eating turkey even if you hate it (I am officially the only person left that likes turkey) and stressing out about the whole thing.

Personally I had a brilliant time this year. I think BBF did too - well he seemed to even though he said "every time you tell me why you love Christmas, I'm going to tell  you why I hate it". On Christmas Eve we drove up to Stevenage to see one of his cousins. We were warmly received and stayed for a lovely lunch, then chatted with their 3 year old daughter on her pretend mobile. 

It turned out she had a direct line to Santa but ended up on hold anyway ("press 1 if you would like to talk to Santa, Press 2 if you would like the Elves workshop, press 3 if you think you have been placed on the naughty list in error...") we then left to drive to Nichola's in Milton Keynes where we would be spending Christmas day.

The day itself was really lovely, we opened presents, had a fantastic perfectly cooked dinner that could not have been any better, then we sat around and watched crap Christmas telly which was actually pretty poor this year although it was mostly aimed at children strangely enough. 

Later her family left except for one of her sisters and we watched the worst Doctor Who episode in living memory. It felt like they'd cobbled it together at a lunchtime brainstorming session and had left out anything that resembled tension. It really was noticeably shonky.Then 2 hours of Downton Abbey which again seemed like it was made lazily with them relying on their reputation rather than clever writing. It was all very predictable and tidy but enjoyable anyway.

BBF obviously was not into this section of the evening as he hates that kind of thing but he had a couple of books and was able to busy himself that way. Next we watched the Kick Ass DVD I got from BBF and then the day was over.

On Boxing Day (which is the best day as the pressure is taken off, nobody has to cook, and you can laze around watching TV, eating Quality Street and reading new books) BBF and I drove over to my folks for a spot of lunch and to give them some presents. My bro gave me the most hideous picture frame/clock - I never actually knew that such a thing existed and suspect it was randomly bought last minute from a charity shop which is where it will be returning! 

It was the only duff present I got which was good. Even though everyone says it's not about the presents, it kind of is. If you're going to get a present then it might as well be something useful or something you like. I wasn't expecting anything from him so I thought it was quite funny.

We found out Boxing day morning that one of BBF's friends had finally had their baby after 25 hours in labour. (crosses legs) He was born at 11.59pm on Christmas day - her waters had broken on Wednesday so they were literally trying to drag the kid out kicking and screaming so that everyone could go home and get one with their lives. A Christmas baby is a lovely thing even if you're not that keen on kids though I reckon.

After seeing my folks we drove across to Cambridge to see one of BBF's friends. His sister was also visiting and arrived seconds after we did. The friend has just qualified as a doctor and told us a story of a dying old couple in love that was so sad I actually sat and cried round the table. Somewhat embarrassing but it was one the saddest thing I've ever heard. I think you should face a steep fine for making someone cry at Christmas - it would help with the national deficit no end.

Then after that we drove home. I navigated for the whole trip so I was feeling very pleased with myself. I mentioned to my Dad that I was only a good map reader as he made me navigate when we went away when I was small. He then shattered my memories by informing me that he already knew the way. I had not thought of that. Can you imagine being 40 and not having considered that? I was gutted. I thought he had been relying on my skills the whole way. How gullible am I?

Dillinger was pleased to see us when we got back and I did miss him a bit - noisy little dimbo. He's obsessed with water and enjoys nothing more than sitting under a running tap. This morning I found cat paw marks all over the toilet seat and actually in the toilet basin as well. What a freak. 

So that's Christmas done with and we only have the horror that is New Year's Eve to get through now. I hate New Year'S Eve like BBF despises Xmas. Lots of really drunk people desperate to have a good time - it's always a disappointment and everyone feels crap the next day. I think we're inviting people over but I'm not too sure yet. Christmas to me is lazy and New Year always feels a bit frantic somehow.

And that was it. Today is nice and quiet and I will be spending it watching Jane Austen programmes on catch-up, reading copywriting books, and catching up with craft blogs I imagine. I may even get dressed and leave the house at some point! 

I hope you also had a good Christmas even though you're in a place hotter than the sun. Speak soon my friend! 

Christmas is Coming!

I have to admit that I do quite like Christmas. I don't like it starting too early but, If it has all the right components, then it's brilliant. BBF however hates it...

Being an armchair Jew, he doesn't bother with Hanukkah and he poo-poohs Christmas as well. So instead of my life being culturally enriched, I have to try and justify why I want to celebrate Christmas. Which is hard to explain to someone who hasn't been bought up with it being part of the fabric of their childhood with layers of Christmases going towards the creation of a giant Mille Feuille of nostalgia.

I've also discovered it's hard to put why I love Christmas into words. It's so many things and it's more the sentiment rather than particular situations or things. When you have celebrated it with your family and friends, celebrated it on your own, not celebrated it at all, had great ones, crap ones, fun ones, sad ones, argumentative ones, and slow, lovely meandering ones - they all go together to make up a very personal experience of what Christmas means to you.

Last year was a mixed bag to be honest. I didn't bring it up at the time as I hadn't been with BBF for long, and wasn't sure how he'd take me writing on my blog how peeved I was at the whole thing. It was the only thing we argued about last year and it wasn't at all how I expected to spend my first Christmas with him.

BBF has an ex girlfriend who he gets on very well with but I haven't personally taken to her. She only talks directly to him when we're all together and tries to reminisce about times they spend together and people they knew. It's all rather subtle but both she and I know she's doing it. Anyway, she asked him if she and her boyfriend could spend Christmas Day with us as she wasn't sure she could handle her boyfriend's company for the whole day.

So she didn't want to spend Christmas with her boyfriend, she wanted to spend it with mine instead. BBF being so lovely and innocent said of course they could. He didn't understand the whole 'our first Christmas together' thing - but I know she did. 

The day wasn't entirely dreadful but it wasn't really what I had in mind either.  So this year, I've vetoed any idea of spending the day with them and we might be going up to spend Christmas Eve to Boxing Day at my best friends instead. I will also see my family but we'd be staying with her as my folks don't have a spare room. This would be lovely seeing as my Dad had his cancer scare earlier in the year - plus my best friend really does put on a luverly Christmas!

I'm really excited about helping her put on a great Christmas, but there's no way I can carry it here by myself with a Christmas-hater. BBF thinks it's a big commercial nightmare fraught with arguments and stress. Which of course it is... because people are involved! But it is what you make it and I can't ignore that it happens. I'm starting to get quite excited even though it's a month away as I know the time will go really quickly.

I've already created my Xmas Excel spreadsheet (I do love a good spreadsheet me) where I write down who I want to give presents to and what cards are going where. I'm going to be making vanilla heart-shaped biscuits, truffles, Florentines, lemon curd, honeycomb, peppermint creams, candles, and nice crochet things. All beautifully wrapped and presented of course. I can't afford much this year but I really do love giving people things I've made. It's so much better than buying any old thing just for the sake of it.

So basically, this year instead of trying to describe to BBF why I love Christmas, I'm going to try and show him instead. And at least if he goes all Grinchy on me, I'll still have Elf, my best friend, and a big tin of Quality Street to console me. And if he hates trying it my way then we're going have to have another rethink for next year!

Off To Rome!

In a few hours I leave for 5 days in Rome to celebrate my 40th birthday on Sunday. It's chucking it down here and it looks like it's going to be no better in Rome until the day after I come back! Always the way...

I haven't been on a plane since my birthday last year when I went to visit Star Trek Girl in Jordan. I changed in Rome but didn't see any of Rome itself. BBF went when he was around 14 but he doesn't remember much about it. I love flying - when we take off I just want to shout at everyone "oh my God we're flying like birds - wheeeee!!" The sun always shines up there at least.

We've printed off all the helpful stuff we could find and are armed with phrase books. My Italian is pathetic and BBF's in non-existent so hopefully they'll be pretty good at English! Dillinger woke me up early this morning and once my mind started to whirl, I couldn't get back to sleep so I thought I'd come here and say goodbye to you lot.

My mind was mostly debating what to wear - such a female cliché! It's going to be wet but quite mild so the big question is what coat to take. The one thing I don't have to consider is the lovely dress that my best friend bought for my birthday when she came down to visit last weekend. She made me open it early honest!

There's a story behind this dress. I went up to visit her a short while ago, tried on her dress and looked great in it. It's only from Asda so it's not expense, but it's perfect. It is black, the material is thick enough that it doesn't cling in all the wrong places, the waist is dropped, the neck is round, the sleeves are three-quarter, and the length is just above the knee. I never find dresses I like so I was pleased to discover she had only just bought it.

Off we traipsed to every Asda in the area but we could not find the dress anywhere - all sold out. It was also sold out on their website too. There was only one size 18 left in one of the stores. I then went to all the stores when I got back to Brighton but to no avail. I was really disappointed and kept thinking of what a shame it was that I couldn't find one. It would have been perfect to take to Rome.

Then when the little minx came down last week she made me open my present so she could see my face - of course it was the dress! Amazingly, she had gone back to check, and that size 18 was in fact not an 18 at all but was exactly the size I needed! What a star. I was really chuffed and (apart from my being a bit thick around the middle) it looks really good so will be taking a trip to Rome with me and I will wear it on my birthday in the rain.

I know I had a bit of a rant about being 40 but frankly, whaddaya gunna do? It's going to happen so I might as well just go with it. I'm one of those people that like to do something for their birthday though, and holidays are much better than one-day affairs. You get to drag your birthday out for days! 

I will of course, write a full report of what Rome was like. I'm very much looking forward to people-watching, eating cake and drinking wine!

My Friend's Mum Died

I received a text from my friend's partner yesterday to say that her Mum had died that morning. I had taken my friend for tea and cake at a swanky seafront hotel last Thursday and she said the doctors thought her Mum had another couple of months - and yet less than a week later she is gone.

My friend is devastated as you can imagine. Well I don't know how she is as I haven't spoken to her and she hasn't replied to my text. I doubt she can think of anything at the moment. I've done the usual - told her how sorry I am and offered to look after her son or to help in any way I can. But there's little else a person can do in these situations it seems.

What has been shocking is the speed at which this happened. She was only diagnosed around 4 months ago and had been having regular cancer screening up until then. She wasn't even 70 I think and suddenly it's all over her. It's frightening to know that something can take hold of you and kill you that fast. 

Last week my friend said she was lucky in some ways. Her Mum got to see her only son married this Summer without any illness hanging over her (she was fine then with no suggestion of illness) and she got to spend a few years with her only Grandchild. In the future I imagine my friend might be glad that her Mum didn't die at Christmas too. She might be grateful that there isn't a shadow hanging over it so she can celebrate the day with her family without feeling guilty.

The whole thing is just horrible. My friend was worried that her Mum would die on her own as she could only spend 4 days of the week up in London as her husband had to work. I don't know if that happened. She said her brother was also worried he wouldn't be there as he lives in Brussels - they had no timescale to work with you see. She told me her Mum looked at her last week and said "tell me I'm going to be ok". And she simply couldn't. What a thing to go through.