Flatshares

What fun. Actually, it was. I went and viewed two potential flats to live in this weekend and they were both great. I really have to get myself sorted, the current living situation with the ex is not ideal (although we are both being nice and polite to each other) it's just a bit wierd. So onwards with the gumtreeing.

One was in Golders Green living in a quiet street about 15 minutes from the tube, a bit further than I would like, but good buses and tube to work. Only two stops, great. It would be sharing with two guys and one girl - sensible but friendly. They are all a bit older than me and quiet, but probably a bit too quiet. The house was amazing though. Open plan wooden floor downstairs, huge, new and shiney, lots of gadgets. They wanted £520 a month excluding bills, and the house has no broadband. Perfectly fine but I did think a bit expensive.

The next one was in Kilburn and probably the one I want. Never new Kilburn was such a nice place. It was £448 a month with all bills, but still no broadband (or even DVD player). The house was much more lively though - six others, all international. It was a bit less new looking than the other place, more like a student pad, but not overly so. Only five minutes walk away from the tube, plus Kilburn itself is nearer to central things. Bit further away from work, but still good, could even walk it if I needed. They said that they will be having a Dolly Parton theme fancy dress party. Really, really friendly and outgoing, which is what I need a the moment - lots of people around and potential new friends.

I have really neglected my friends since settling into London, but they have been great these few weeks - very supportive and always willing to listen to me being pathetic. So, going to be available for them more and never do the lazy option and just stay in and watch TV.

Anyway, I got both of the flats I wanted and have to call one of them back tonight and let them know. Got to be Kilburn I think.

Deep breath.

Okay, THIS is the next chapter

Alright, I haven't posted for a while, reason being that I have been having a bit of trouble recently and have not been in the mood for blogging.

I am now single.

Single.

The past few weeks has seen my (ex)girlfriend being really distant and moody and cold towards me. I tried all sorts to see what was up, and I could sense a break up was coming, so I tried all sorts to make things better but failed miserably. I finally confronted her this week, on Tuesday night, and asked her if she wanted to break up. She did.

There were lots of tears from both of us, but it was quite amicable. I was braced for it really because I had been expecting it. I am gutted about it, but I am not begging, and I was unhappy because she was unhappy, so I think in the long-run it was the right thing to do. I cannot make her love me, its upsetting that her feelings have changed towards me, but pleading, screaming and shouting is not going to resolve anything. I wanted eventually to get married and have babies with her, so although breaking up is a real kick in the balls, I would rather break up now than another four years down the line.

She says it is nothing I have done wrong, and she loves me still, but is not IN love with me. There is 'something' that has changed. Good, so nothing vague then, just the usual cliches. I was expecting her to say 'it's not you, it's me', but she mercifully spared me that one.

Anyway, spent the week getting drunk with various friends (who have been great and supportive), my new boss has been really cool anad has offered me time off if I need it. I have been a bit of a zombie at work but he has been understanding and offered to come and pissed with me if I wanted. A nice guy.

We both still share a flat and a bed too, which is wierd, and our relationship is continuing as if nothing happened (we stopped having sex before Xmas anyway), in fact if anything we are both being nicer to each other. She keeps crying though which is really hard for me, because I can't do anything to help, and I don't want to break up.

I got a bit drunk in Camden last night and made embarrisingly poor advances on numerous young ladies and made several take my phone number (out of pity no doubt) and then told the girlfriend when I got home. Stupid stupid stupid. She was upset and cried again, so I then asked her what the problem was and that I didn't want them anyway, I wanted her. Like I said: STUPID!!

Anyway, not really sure where my life is going now, but I will try and pull things together eventually.

Enough for now.

My weekend as a tourist

I was shooed out of the house about 1pm on Saturday so my girlfriend could work in peace so I thought I would go pick up my leaving presents from Richmond. Hopped on the District, already feeling nostalgic, and enjoyed the ride. After the change at Turnham Green a busker got on the tube; I instinctively reached for my iPod so I could ignore him, but I had forgotten to charge it. The busker gave a rambling prelude and then began to play his guitar.

And it was great!

The sun streamed in through the windows. His singing was good and his guitar playing better. He sang some New Order track (forgotten the name of it); the audience really got into the spirit of it. Old ladies asking him questions in between verses and tourists tapping their feet away. He did the obligatory collection and I donated £1 as did many others from what I could see. He was clearly very happy with this. The train stopped for a while before Kew and so he threw another song in gratis.

I recorded the songs on my phone, but I don't think Blogger lets you upload anything other than images. Oh well.

I had a slow stroll up the Hill and met up with a friend and then had a few quick beers in the Roebuck before heading back to take the girlfriend out for a meal back in Ealing; just a cheap and cheerful pancake at My Old Dutch which we actually quite like.

Sunday, of course, was Chinese New Year. Busy busy busy. It was actually quite uncomfortable towards the end. We didn't really see much of anything and I feel a bit of a heathen when I say it was over-hyped. I thought it was difficult to make martial arts look dull, but the organisers actually managed it. Even the fireworks were lacking - just smoke and loud noises. There could have at least of been a platform in Leicester Square so that people could see what was going on.

I did get some pancake rolls, and some nice photo's, and it was a perfect winter's day.

Strange things afoot

So I've started at the new place and I think it is going ok. I have met so many people in the past three days, and can remember so few names. I have so far got lost three times, and that was just on the one campus. Tomorrow I am unleashed on another campus, for a whole new raft of strange faces and unfamiliar corridors.

I'm beginning to get a clearer idea of what I am supposed to be doing, which is always good and think it will keep me busy. Basically, I co-ordinate the course content, material and staff for 'Phase 1' of the 'Professional Development Spine'. I liaise between lead lecturers, module tutors, 'site leads', and 'Spine chairs', plus things like AV/IT, catering, maintenance, room bookings etc. Lot's of jargon I still don't understand just yet. There's also stuff like monitoring attendance, coursework, community placements and exams, student feedback and quality.

Anyway, my boss guy is a nice geezer - Australian but you can't have everything. We strangely have lots of things in common: we both play squash, both like Xbox, both watching the same series of X-Files at the moment, we both went to a Star Trek convention at the age of 15, and our girlfriends both have the same name. I have checked to see if we are in fact the same person, but apparently not.

And here's another wierd coincidence - the bloke who used to do my job before me two years ago, is actually an old drinking buddy of mine from the old place. We used to go to the pub all the time, and he wished me luck when I said I had an interview - he already knew though because my new boss guy had asked him what I was like.

I need to do the 'nest-building' type things in the office (bring mug, put rubber band around my spoon, move perishables into communal fridge, put photo of my lady on the wall, customise my desktop etc.) Then the only thing I need to sort out is new drinking partners, so I hope Australia Day tomorrow will be a good excuse.

The morning after

Ugh. My head is banging and I still feel nauseous. I drank far too much last night and am feeling pretty sorry for myself. The flat stinks of the garlic kebab I stuffed down me last night, there are numerous plates and cups laying around me, and I am still in my dressing gown.

Time for a belated detox.

I had a pretty civilised New Year, but I have been drinking lots since I got back to London, eating shit food and doing no excercise. My gym membership expired in August and I didn't renew it because they had put the price up. (It's still cheap though, I'm just poor). I had been going twice a week for about a year and I had lost quite a bit of weight and people kept commenting on how fit I looked; I felt healthy and my jeans fit. But then I got a bit complacent. Free lunches at work, no gym since August, lots of great Christmas type food and frequent pubbing have made their mark.

So, new job, new me. New FIT me. Oh yes. Healthy sandwich type lunches from now on, no more boozing (or at least not to the point of oblivion), perhaps look around for a gym close to my new work, some fruit maybe and less pizza.

The leaving do was good though, which is why am I rough. I left my leaving presents behind in the pub though annoyingly, although someone picked them up, which means I have to go back AGAIN to collect them. Maybe, subconsciously, I meant to do it. No. Just an idiot.

I got a CK leather wallet, a bottle of Czech spirits, and a subscription to the hilarious CO-ED magazine. It is actually educational, but not sure what my girlfriend will think about it. I also got a CD, but cannot remember what it was. They were presented to me in a DHL packet, and then left on the bar. The last place I was at, when I left, they gave me a nice wall-clock, as a subtle hint that I was always late. So either my time-keeping is getting better, or the Richmond lot are a lot politer.

The next chapter

I sit here writing this on my sofa, wearing just my boxer shorts, munching a bowl of multi-grain Rice Krispies, and watching Trisha. On a Thursday.

Yesterday was my last day working day at Richmond.

Today's agenda consists of:

1. Buy the second half of the lost box-set
2. Get my hair cut
3. Buy a bottle of wine to sup with my lady later (and maybe some of that Innocent stuff)
4. That's it

Here are some more lists

Things I will miss about Richmond

1. Free lunches
2. Exotic international students
3. Working in a neo-gothic castle
4. Drinks over-looking the famous Richmond Hill view
5. Having no direct supervision
6. My drinking buddies
7. My database (sad, but I made it)

Things I will not miss about Richmond

1. The District Line
2. The 371 bus
3. Waiting for the 371 bus
4. Laughable pay-rises
5. Despotic management run in the 'American-style'
6. Constant battles over 'roles and responsibilities
7. Working twice as hard for half as much

I think in all, I have made the right decision. I will be back though for a final farewell drinkees on Friday in the Roebuck which is a great pub, and my favourite in Richmond.

New job at the Royal Free Hospital (UCL) starts on Monday. Looking forward to new faces, new morning routines, more money, a more challenging role dealing with people more, less desk-jockeying, less Americans. Shame the building looks (and is) a seventies architecture disaster but you can't have everything.

Richmond, adieu.

I hate the Tube

This weekend was a bit more interesting than lasts.
Some mutual friends from uni who now live in Clapham visited us on Saturday, so we cooked a meal and talked shite for a few hours. They are very big drinkers and love to stay up all night partying and whatnot; I however like to go to bed at around 11pm. Couple this with the fact that I had a hangover all day from my 'practice leaving do' on the Friday night (3 days to go btw), so I was not up for drinking, meant that I was a bit of a party-pooper. They got quite drunk and then mentioned that they were having relationship counselling, and some kind of sexual dysfunction, so after a treachourous few hours, I retreated to the safety of my bed, leaving my long-suffering girlf to fend for herself.
The next day after a greasy breakfast (aha, my revenge) we toodled over to the cinema in Hammersmith to watch Jarhead. A good movie, but did leave me feeling thankful that the US Army is the US Army and not over here. Not that our own troops are much cop - having come from a small town in Lincolnshire whose entire population rely on joining the army after failing to get any GCSE's, I suspect that a grunt is a grunt pretty much the world over. Anyway, they had driven us there in their car, but after the film they were going straight back to Clapham, so we walked back to the tube.
Damned engineering works. No District or Piccadilly. Many curses. So, over the road to the Hammersmith and City branch. Two singles for Ealing Broadway purchased for £3 each!
"How were we getting there?"
"Shepherds Bush and then change…"
"Spot on"
"Thanks"
No problems there. On the tube, to the Bush, to the turnstiles…BASTARD THINGS TAKE OUR TICKETS! No staff anywhere obviously, leaving us no choice but to walk over to the Central line branch and spend another £3 each to get home. Was this right? £12 to travel less than 3 miles? And no one to shout at.
On reflection, delete my first sentence.