December 22, 2011

• It keeps being busy

  One of the things about Christmas is that it reduces blogging time. Since I stopped blogging from my desk (except via email in times of dire necessity), this poor blog has become somewhat ignored. Twitter and Facebook don't help matters. Nor does having a legitimate SQL blog for worky sort of purposes - revenue generated by Google AdSense, thruppence ha'penny.

  And I've been doing THINGS people. Going out, having fun, enjoying stuff. Taking the Brownies ice skating.

  Firstly, we went to Copenhagen, N and I. It was COLD. I cannot emphasise how cold it was. We naively thought that it was merely 'a couple of degrees' colder than London. We did not factor in the wind, nor the fact that there's vastly more traffic in London, and it's much warmer on the bus than it is wandering round.  Still, we had fun. On the first day we ate lunch and went to Tivoli Gardens, which was still just as magical as it was when I was seven or eight years old, and we visited.  Forgot the camera for that, so no pictures of us huddling round the braziers (yes, they had braziers of hot coals to huddle round. Vital), nor of the beautiful lights. We tried and failed to eat there, and ended up in a back street Indian Restaurant.

  Sunday was brighter, and we did a little better on the photos front (not hard, really), saw Occupy Copenhagen (mostly, a blanket) and visited the Round Tower (you know, from the Hans Andersen story), and the National Museum (we had about an hour there, and the Design Centre (and considered emigrating to Denmark based on the Danish Design Asthetic alone), and went out to see the Little Mermaid. We walked all the way from the centre of Copenhagen to the Mermaid, and back, and then ate and ate and ate. And N had beer. Just a small one.

  

  Oh. And we found a singing, dancing goat. He's waving around a bra, so only suitable for work this week, really. 

   

  Monday we managed a yarn shop, and then went to Christiania, via a rather impressive church with a swirly steeple. Christiania is looking a little sad, a little neglected, and still reeks of cannabis. We had soup and Glogg, and rather wished that we'd discovered Glogg earlier in the weekend (it was warm, sweet, and better than mulled wine). I failed on the photo front.

  Then it was back to work. There have been a lot of late nights at work recently, interfering with everything. I have a largeish project on top of my normal work, and it's fine, but the only time I seem to get to work on it without interruption is after everyone's gone home at 5pm. The office is much quieter (it's a large, open plan, with about 60 people in it, and the meeting rooms are nearby too). So. Morris, the office Christmas lunch (it got messy after we left - one chap broke his arm, but thought he'd dislocated it, so sort of slammed it into the wall a few times to relocate it, another person whacked someone else in the face by accident, and so forth), ceilidhing, dinner with the girls, the Club Christmas Lunch (at which it was revealed that the occupants of the Club had no clue why, exactly, Occupy London had decided to storm it the night before, so that was a waste of time on the parts of Occupy London), a trip over to meet N's family (they're lovely), a trip to the cinema to see Sherlock Holmes (we got cold noses: the aircon was a little fierce. Also, if you can't face the concept of Stephen Fry in the nude, don't - otherwise, do, but accept that it's SteamPunk Holmes and don't get het up about the location of Baker Street Tube Station nor where the Tube line was being dug, nor, indeed, when - the film is set in 1891, and the Metropolitan Line opened in 1863. It was being extended in 1891 - but at the top end past Amersham which is now part of British Rail. I shall stop geeking now), a few more late nights at work, a lunatic attempting to knock me off my stationary bike (lights on, bright jacket on, under a lamppost) as he ran down the pavement (the bruise is small, but potent - particularly considering I was wearing layers of clothing), the W.I. Christmas Party (alcohol. Pass the Parcel. Pin the Tail on the Donkey and a degree of nostalgia) and then a ball at a friend's Club. Yes, we have pictures of the ball. N & I did wonder about using the travelling wedding ring to confuse some of the (to be frank) idiots I've encountered at Club events, but, really? Nah.

  

  The ball was, quite frankly, one of the nicest I've been to. Company. The company was excellent. It just gelled. The food was lovely, the champagne was fizzy, there were chocolates, my fruit salad actually had ice cream with it (this almost never happens - it's galling to be given, as an afterthought almost, a fruit salad when everyone else has a lovely patisserie thing, but this had ice cream on).  Also, N does look stunning in a suit. He's got the build for it. He doesn't need to wear one, really, at all, but he does look stunning.

  Oh yes. And the Military Wives. Such a lovely song. Buy it.  The Chancellor has said that they don't have to pay VAT (or, rather, will refund the VAT already paid). Meanwhile, I'm going to enjoy my Day Off by making a list...

   

  • put laundry away
  • fray check jeans Fray check marooned under Christmas Tree. Drat. Taking jeans to take advantage of Mum's overlocker.
  • buy a new mooncup, cotton wool, light bulb for the hallway
  • change bulbs sitting room
  • Brownies Accounts from ice skating (I'm owed about £150, I think. Eek).
  • Tidy the sitting room Merely getting the laundry down has made a huge difference.  Table is not clear, though, so not quite done.
  • Send @fotheringtonthomas the SQL disk (although he's no longer on Xanga)
  • I've forgotten (this is happening a lot, isn't it?).  Pack. Need N's help to get the suitcase down, as Jo's boyfriend's foam mattress thing is sitting on top of it on top of the cupboard and I do not have enough arms.

  xxx

  • 6:38 am
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