I am a ginger nut...

Currently listening to: Love Machine by Girls Aloud.
I think the ginger one from Girls Aloud is the best looking one. I like ginger (red) hair. Red hair and freckles. Very sweet and innocent. But probably very filthy in bed. I hope so. I now have the horn...

Oh dear.

This evening, the German and I entertaining. in attendance will be:

Patti (see some previous post)
Christian (lovely American from Boston)
Mark (mediocre tennis player and linguist)

Patti and Christian are two of my favourite people in Oxford. Patti has a mouth like a toilet (filthy but not into scat) but dresses elegantly and Christian is very sweet and gullible and looks like your average American frat boy. Sadly, he also signs his name 'Xtian'. Freak. I'll mock him mercilessly over dinner about that, of course.

Now listening to: Turn You Inside-Out by R.E.M.

Lunch...

Just back from a lovely lunch at Georgina's (where else?) with Graham. Once again, I opted for the quiche platter and once again, I marvelled at the good-valuness of it. A mere £4.95...
Good food, good company. It doesn't get much better.

Am so very tired today. Had a tedious shift at the pub yesterday. I am now convinced that the German and I are the most hardworking people there. The manager asked us who we think are the biggest slackers to which I replied "you should know, you're the manager". That didn't go down very well. Anyway, 3 people are being culled. Maybe even as I type. I didn't have anything to do with this though. I certainly don't want people to lose their jobs even if they are slackers. I'd rather their slackness was addressed. And then, if they were still slackers, I'd be all for sacking the fuckers.

Yesterday, the lovely Marketmosley and his lady friend graced the pub with their presence. That's hot. I THINK they may have stolen two Leffe glasses though, as we were down 2 at the end of the night. Leffe glasses are highly coveted and I have several at home courtesy of various pubs in Oxford.


Smelly-Frenchman posted the new training schedule for the boatclub. 3 river outings per week, 1 land training session and 1 cardio session we are to do on our own. Fuck that.

Currently listening to: Ebony and Ivory by the blind Stevie Wonder.

The new term of this academic year is almost upon us and I am muchly pleased. Oxford was made for students not tourists.

I have found the PERFECT winter coat. It's a thing of beauty by Victor & Rolf. Less beautifully, it costs £800. A few more shifts at the pub, I think...

I resisted the urge to go to Borders and gaze longingly at page 22 of Attitude magazine. Not sure how long my resolve will last though.

Now listening to: Your Secrets by Belle & Sebastian

My Jaffa Cake addiction has reached epic proportions. 24 over the weekend and 22 since Monday.

I'm too tired but I thought I'd post...

Some bint from one of the student rags rang me today to get a quote. Misquote would be more accurate. Fucking student 'journalists'. I told her to go fuck herself.

I didn't really.

"Manners mayketh man".

Tell me which College that is the motto of and I'll buy you a pint of whatever your heart desires. As long as it's Carling. Carling is cheap.

Currently listening to: Do You Want To by Franz Ferdinand.

Double-breasted suits are a definite no-no.

I have never been more tired. My schedule is taking its toll. I'm not sure how much longer I can carry on like this. I'm at the end of my rope. I'm at my wit's end. I'm...I could go on but you get the idea.
Actually, giving up either rowing or working at the pub would solve my sleep deprivation problem. I can't see either happening though.

On Sunday, I went into Sainsbury's to purchase a bottle of water. I walked in and walked right out again. The queue was freakin' HUGE. Why have 20 check-out things when there are never more than 5 or 6 open? Anyway, in the few seconds I was in there, I saw an enormously fat and tall man wearing a BNP (British National Party) shirt with the 'White Power' logo on the front. I was shocked. I looked at him and he looked at me. Then his CORPULENT girlfriend (a less attractive version of Michelle McManus, last year's Pop Idol winner (what happened to her?) came over and pulled him away.

I mean...what the fuck?! This is Oxford not some hick, one-horse, redneck town in the middle of nowhere.

I needed a tonic. I went to Borders and gazed adoringly at page 22 of the current edition of Attitude magazine.

Currently listening to: Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus.

Me...

Well, since I last posted, I've been frightfully busy. If I was the type to use such expressions, I would go so far as to say I've been crazy-busy.

Alternatively, I could just say that I've been really fucking busy.

Rowing: has become deeply tedious. Our Monday cox is a fucking bitch who's quite possibly one of the most repellant females I've ever met. Smelly-Frenchman gets worse too. He is by no means a rowing legend but is constantly giving advice to another rower who speaks little English (he's a scientist) with hilarious results. Also, our new strokeman is a twat.

I've yet to make one of the Tuesday landtraining sessions (due to pub commitments) but I've told the pub I can no longer work on Tuesdays.

On Friday, I went to London for Rick's leaving/birthday drinks. If you've never been to Sway Bar in Covent Garden, you should check it out. I met some interesting people and then headed to Popstarz with James and his mate Jean-Charles or something. It was very noisy and I only heard every other word...
There seemed to be some sort of unofficial Cambridge University reunion at Popstarz. Almost every homo I know there was at Popstarz that night. It was, in most cases, good seeing them again.

On Saturday, Toby was visiting from Birmingham. He decided that we should make like grannies and take tea at The Old Parsonage. Don't get me wrong, I'm all in favour of tea and scones and clotted cream but you can't go wrong with cocktails. Still, it was a pleasurable experience and we had a lot of catching up to do. We then did the tourist thing and I showed him my favourite bits of Oxford, including Borders so we could flick through magazines, including Attitude (page 22). Ahem...
Then, off to the pub for me at 8. It was diabolical. I work with morons and cretins, apart from my housemate (the German) who also works there. A few members of staff do a disproportionate amount of the work and it's not on. It's not fucking on.

Apparently, the pub is haunted too.

On Sunday, I had coffee with Eli and Sam (see some previous post) and then went to the gym with Eli. After the gym, I read the papers (Observer and Sunday Times), went to Borders to flick through magazines, including Attitude (page 22), and then went to the pub to have a drink with the excellent and delightful MarketMosley. What a thoroughly pleasant individual. Bad taste in hats but the rest was fine.

Currently listening to: Landslide by Smashing Pumpkins.

Spending a lot of time making love to my: sexy, shiny, smooth iBook.

Madeleine Peyroux: have a listen if you haven't already. Just makes me want to rub garlic all over my lithe, firm body, slip on a stripy top and a beret and munch on a baguette. The French do 'style' like no one else.

I need a new winter coat.

Autumn in Oxford is beautiful. The sunlight at this time of year makes the buildings glow and the ivy is changing from green to red and orange. Beautiful.

I have not foresaken thee...

Okay, it's been a while since I've posted something but I'm a very important person and resultantly, very busy. So just freakin' deal with it.

5 years ago whilst waiting for my flight back to London from Bombay, I was approached by a woman at the Emirates bit of the waiting area. She seemed to be in some distress and asked if I was flying to Dubai. I said 'yes'. She pulled a letter out of her bag and asked if I could post it when I got there. I said I was just in transit and wouldn't be leaving the airport but she said there were postboxes at the airport and please would I post it for her? It had to be there urgently and she was flying in the opposite direction and the Indian postal system isn't known for its efficiency. I looked at the envelope and as it was one of those blue airmail ones in which you can't put anything (explosives, for example) so I took it and said I'd post it.

Sadly, my flight was over 2 hours late leaving Bombay and when I finally got to Dubai I had to race from one end of the airport to the other. What I hadn't realised (and what no one told me) was that the Dubai to London flight was being held as so many of the passengers from the Bombay to Dubai flight were on the connecting flight too. I need not have raced from one end of the airport to the other. I could have strolled. I'm a great fan of strolling. Short story long, I forgot to post the letter. I'm not sure what I did with it but I think I may have accidentally thrown it out.

I often wonder what was in the letter. The woman that gave it to me was in some distress so the letter was obviously important. I've been thinking about this for 5 years now. Perhaps the letter was to a lover or child. Maybe a dying parent. Who knows. What I do know is that I've carried this guilt around with me for 5 years. I often wonder what became of the woman at the airport. Is she in Dubai, pleading with the recipient of the letter to believe her when she says she gave it to someone to post? Is she living somewhere else wondering why the recipient of her letter hasn't replied? Is she still alive?

If I ever do meet this woman. I have 2 words for her...


"FED-EX, BITCH"


Lumbering me with her fucking guilt.


Currently listening to: some song by The Go! Team.

I'm back!

Did you miss me? Did you? Huh? You did, didn't you? I knew it...

Apologies for the seemingly interminable delay in posting. I've been to Canada (for longer than I expected) and have been busily trying to shake off jetlag, working at the pub, trying to do some work, spending the weekend in London and stalking my crush.

Yes, a crush. Okay, that may seem juvenile but I am still susceptible to them. Fuck. And no, I don't mean the luscious Marketmosley.

NEWS FLASH!!! I am now the proud owner of a band new, shiny, sexy iBook!!! I've wanted one for ages and bought one when I was in Canadia. I had all sorts of bells and whistles installed on it so it is now the most powerful thing on the planet. It's making me obsolete, but I LOVE it. I THINK it may replace my flip-flops in my affections. Especially as winter is fast approaching.

I have a blind date thing on Friday too. My housemate's boyfriend's flatmate is Deputy Editor of Attitude and asked if I'd be interested in doing a blind date feature. I send in a photo, fill out a questionnaire and hey presto! Get to choose from 3 people. I'm quite pleased with my choice. The other two were repellent. One, I think I recognise from Cambridge (and he's most definitely not on my list of things I miss about the 'Bridge, and the other was just plain awful. I'm not going to mention his name, because that would be evil (message me and I'll tell you), but his best feature is his "tight ass" and the part he admires most in a chap is his "long hard...". Classy.
The one I chose (I'm convinced I've seen him walking around Oxford) wasn't bad looking and seemed quite intelligent.

Since I've been back (September 8), I've worked at the pub (it amazes me that SO many attractive people are drawn to the Jericho Tavern and yet, I never see them around town). Where do they lurk?

On Saturday, I headed to London to meet up with an old friend. Dinner at Carluccio's in Christopher Place, drinks at The Village (where, for once, I was chatted up by not 1 but by 2 (yes 2!!!) chaps, then on to Shadow Lounge where I met several pleasant people. I'm developing a taste for Americans...

Will write more later. I must attend to my toilet.

Currently listening to: nothing. I'm enjoying the sound of silence.

Currently wearing: my dressing gown. Does that turn you on? Does it?