When I started this back at the beginning of July, I thought I'd choose a random three months between holidays to try and lose some weight and make a few pounds for a good cause."It's alright," I said to myself, "there might be some big events, but there'll be plenty of weekends where we're not doing anything, so they'll balance out."
What a really dumb thing to say.
We've been fully in social butterfly mode this weekend, from Friday evening to right now. And pretty much none if it was planned that far in advance. Which makes things interesting.
Other people have quiet Friday nights in with their neighbours, sipping at sherries and making polite conversation. Other people don't have Matt and Kate next door. Other people are missing out.
This was a particular highpoint:
Mad.
Saturday had us off to Honeybourne, near Evesham, for a barbecue that started at 2.00pm. And ended at midnight. Great times were indeed had by all.
Sunday meant going back to Honeybourne, to pick up the car that belongs to someone, that someone said she was going to drive back the previous night, before someone decided instead to have some wine at the barbecue. No names, no packdrill. I'd have done the same. Oh, I did.
Parents have a different idea of distance, I've learned. I recounted this story to my mother today. "Evesham? You went back to Evesham a second time?" Anyone would think Evesham was the second moon of Jupiter. It's 50 minutes away in a very nice part of Worcestershire.
After a visit to the Reservoir Pub with Mike and Emma that, again, came from out of nowhere, this evening found us at Jomuna, our nearest maison de curry. This is one my favourite Indian restaurants (it's actually Bangladeshi, as are most Indian restaurants in Britain. It's a long story). The food and service are great, they know us by name, and we get a Baileys with the bill. This evening they had the ADHD playlist on their music. I've never before been in an Indian (or Bangladeshi, for that matter) restaurant where the tunes have gone from Cher to Daniel Bedingfield to Dusty Springfield to Coldplay to Andy Williams. I can tick that one off my list, I guess.
As the bland synthesized reggae stylings of Ace of Base drifted across my tandoori chicken, Katie said, "That reminds me of Grimneck." Grimneck (not her real name) was an old girlfriend of a mutual friend of ours. "She always used to play Ace of Base constantly as we drove round in her Metro."
All you need is Yuppy Flu in that sentence and you have a story that is officially The Most Typical 1990's Recollection Ever.
Being such a social gadabout means:
Well, it's moving in the right direction, which is a good thing since last week. But I need to see this coming down more quickly, given that there's only a few weeks to go. The thing is, it measured 16/9 until I picked up my camera to take a picture of the scales.
Clearly I need a lighter camera.
5 comments:
Wait a fuckin' minute. Wait. A. Minute. People just hand you a glass of Bailey's? Who do I have to sleep with to get a gig like that?
In the past we've been very good customers. Which probably explains why I'm now posting pictures of my feet on a pair of scales on the internet, every week.
It might be ersatz Baileys - thinking about it, we never get to see the bottle.
Now I'm a little worried.
You have a list of places to visit that includes a Bangledeshi restaurant that has an eclectic in their music playlist? What kind of list is this?!
What else is on there? A massage parlour that sells frozen yogurt?
An eclectic?! Am I actually a college student and my brain just stopped? I'm pretty sure I meant an eclectic selection of music in their playlist.
Man, I'm a dork!
The visit to the Frozen Yogurt-o-rama actually happens next month, as it happens!
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