So tonight's task on Operation Move in a Vauxhall Corsa is to pack up my books. I already have two plastic crates of Classics tomes that I refuse to throw out (the only evidence that I am, in fact, clever) and I'll have another of other books I don't want to lose. But space in Ben's house is at a premium. Talking to him on the phone just now, he said he has boxes in books in storage, for when we have a library. Scary thought...
Anyway, another update where I say not much, no doubt. The weekend was fab, racing at Newmarket was fun, but COLD. I'm going to have to get my autumn clothes out soon because Suffolk is going to be freezing. We had some nice dinners, thanks mainly to Ben's aunt and uncle and his mum and dad, all of whom ensured we were fed. And we had a really nice time together. But poor Ben didn't get to sleep as much as he'd have liked and it was my fault. So much so that after a few days sleep deficiet, he and Annie overslept this morning. Poor lovely. We went to Kempton Park on Monday, for yet more racing, which was fun. And now only two more days til I get to see him again. Hurrah.
Um... our writing group seems to be slowly unravelling. No one's done any writing for weeks, months, in fact, and despite having a new theme for the anthology, no one's writing towards it. We've had to cancel the last meeting, and this week's too. This is despite the fact that we had a social dinner last Thursday. I am thinking that we should have instead not been sociable and all just sat in a darkened room, writing. But hey ho. Since I'm leaving anyway, part of me feels like it's all falling apart, but I really hope it doesn't. I would hate for that to happen.
I thought there was lots of tell, I guess if I were the kind of person who detailed her meals (Chinese on Friday, sausage and mash Saturday lunchtime... etc) I could pad it out a bit, but since I'm not writing, reading, or doing anything interesting at all ever at the moment, I guess this is your lot.
Resigning was SCARY, but everyone's been so nice about, especially when I've cried (I know). Good news is that Tony was overheard telling someone it was a real blow, and Lesley told Amy Grant that it was a sad day for Routledge. Hah!! I was appreciated all these years! But actually, I don't feel like it's a mistake, I'm totally ready to leave. I've been happy there, but I'm ready to do something different, and of course, I want to live with Ben, and this is all happening. So happiness is good! To make matters even better, the new job contract has been extended to a year, so I have a little bit more security there too. Did I say what the job is? I am going to work for the exam board, OCR.
Tiny bit worried about the house, as in making sure my housemates find a person to replace me. I paid to place an ad, and I arranged some viewings already, but they still want to see some more people. So this morning I was up early, organising that, replying to various emails I got and generally just hoping and wishing that they bite. I get the feeling it's actually Vic who's being difficult. And it's not fair of me to say that she's being difficult, she's perfectly within her rights to decide that she wants to live with someone nearly perfect. Good luck! That's what I say. Bearing in mind I'll be effectively housesharing with Ben and Annie, though, I don't want bad housemate karma.
Races today at Newmarket, which is exciting, and I get to dress up, of course, which I like. The weather has gone distinctly autumnal. I almost wish I had a pair of tights to wear. Scary stuff.
So, duty calls. Kind of. Well, actually the truth is I'm going to browse the Boden catalogue for a capsule wardrobe. Ahem!
Right
Hurrah!!
Details shortly, no doubt, but I just wanted to say, that's why I've been uncharacteristically quiet...
But of course, the truth is, things are great! And I am happy! I just wish I didn't miss Ben so much. We have entered the euromillions draw tonight, in hope of curing all our problems with a large cash injection. Ho ho ho, wouldn't that be a laugh?
Ooooh, author just called me from TURKEY! How exciting.
Not long til I can goooo....
That is all...
I have been on a spending spree.
Underwear. Essential. Can't not hoik up boobs/ wear knickers.
Three monsoon dresses on ebay. Also *essential*. Might need to look smart in near future. Have been invited to a wedding. Also, racing. And in general I like wearing dresses. Unfortunately I now realise it's all just THE SAME DRESS but in different materials and colourways and patterns. I have been HAD!
Four cute patterned mugs in own holder just like my friend Gemma P has that I've been looking out for for ages and no other M&S has had them til I stumbled over them in Oxford M&S last night - *priceless*. Or rather, £9.50. Bargain.
It's never easy being away from the person you love. But today it's hard. Ben's at Ascot having a ball "working" and I'm stuck at home, with my folks, who've refused to go and watch the racing because it's too expensive (it is). So, you know, hurrah. Matters made worse by the fact that Ben told me his horse is running tomorrow, in case we wanted to go, and I had to break it to him, *I* want to come, but only if I get to be with you. My folks, well, they're not bothered...
Ah, well, it can't all be happy endings and nuzzling like small animals.
In case this couldn't be clear enough, I am back in Oxford.
And only *slightly* miserable about it, because I am about to eat curry. However, I am VERY VERY VERY miserable about having had to leave Ben. And therefore the misery status should be VERY VERY and a bit, because you know, curry! Colleagues! Chat and stuff!! But then home, and a bed, alone, and no boyfriend for about ten days, and he is sad, and I am sad, and that is too much sadness coming out of good love stuff. So thinking that... I'm going to go and eat curry.
Unless you count the two stanzas of a poem I'd already committed to text message anyway.
I have also
- panicked about potential blood clot in leg (sure it's fine, am massive hypochondriac, just need to do some exercise and stop driving incredibly long distances in car and leading sedentary lifestyle as leg in general is sore when I sit)
- had hair cut, and enjoyed conversation with very nice hairdresser
- went to local church open morning, had free cup of tea, petted a dog, commiserated about how the high street is going downhill because of the lapdancing clubs and the nightclubs on a Saturday night
- had an afternoon sleep (when Ben naps, I nap)
- had a glass of white wine (why helloooo alcohol, how I've missed you. Oh, wait, I had a gin and tonic last night too.
- loved Ben. Because he loves me. Ahhh. You may puke now.
There is nothing else going on. This is my glamorous life, not terribly exciting. Oh well. At least I get to be not very exciting, but with Ben.
However, somewhat shamefully, I have managed to do a couple of things today I have been putting off FOR EVER. Hence I now realise that I have acutally been a bit lazy recently. It turns out that what you need is a holiday to spur you on
Also, the time has come to bite the bullet and actually WRITE SOME MORE OF MY NOVEL. After all, I am meant to be a writer, and I am meant to be working hard on my book. So I'm not entirely sure why I am not. So I am going to try to break the 20,000 word barrier this weekend (what! You hadn't broken that already? No. Shut up. I had to scrap A LOT of first draft, OK?)
Finally, I wanted to see Ben. I am, officially, le wimpiest of les wimps. Tout les wimps sont moins wimpy que moi.
Tonight, watching Mrs Beecham doing something with the Chinese parents of cojoined twins, I thought her skirt looked very familiar.
Because I nearly bought it today, in the Monsoon sale.
And even more annoying, she was wearing with it a perfect match little limey/olivey green t-shirt. The only reason I didn't buy the skirt was that I couldn't make it an outfit.
I bought a navy and green dress (cuter than it sounds), a pink top and a beige worky/interview top. None of it needed, none of it made me feel better. I'll never make a Carrie Bradshaw...
Today I have THE MEAN REDS except I think I do know what I'm afraid of, I'm just afraid of so many things that instead of it being a generic nameless fear, it is a fear of many named things, thus rendering the named nameless...
I don't want to complain, I really don't. I'm lucky. I have a great job, most of the time, and lovely colleagues, a nice office, a nice house, including a nice new housemate who made me a cup of tea this morning. Our shower is being fixed, but I can shower at work, so that's OK... you know, I am very fortunate. But there are a few things bothering me.
1) I am worried that I will not get a new job nearer Ben, and therefore will not be able to be with him. I know this is a silly worry, but it is a worry all the same.
2) I feel fat. I *am* fat, I know I am actually properly overweight, and the doctor did tell me to lose some weight, but I am finding it hard to motivate myself.
3) I feel frumpy. It goes along partly with being overweight, but also, I think, with the fact that fashion at the moment doesn't really suit overweight people. And while I have bought some pretty new clothes recently, the weather isn't helping... and since I wear jeans to work most days anyway, and flat shoes... whinge whinge whinge. It's not helped by the fact that Ben has a look of preppy smart casualness all the time, and next to him I feel like a scruff.
4) Because I am worried about being overweight I am starting to panic about nameless health issues. Not good. Like, there is basically nothing wrong with me, except I sit with my legs crossed too much.
5) Because I am totally and utterly rubbish at being productive when my mind is on other things, I haven't been able to do any writing. And so my escape plan dream is not progressing.
6) All of this makes me insecure and annoying (see points 1-5)
So, basically, I am in a bit of a funk at the moment. Not helped by being tired, needing a holiday, living out of a suitcase at the moment, etc. Things will perk up, I am sure. I just need to feel more secure in myself.
I think I'm going to go to Slimming World, though. Something has to be done about the weight. I don't want to be a fat bride.
I'd like to boast that I got drunkenly booty-called last night, except that the truth is, I called the boy, *and it so happened* that he was drunk.
He's lovely. And even better I GET TO SEE HIM TONIGHT! Thank you weather, for meaning that horses are not running in races all over the country!! HOOOOOORAH!!!!
However, here comes the tricky bit. We all know that when girls get involved with boys, they have a tendency to let everyone else down. So I am not going to work drinks tonight, not seeing Anna tomorrow, and not going to London for my stepmum's birthday on Sunday. Yikes, that makes me sound like a really bad friend/colleague/daughter. And I am worried that I am all those things. I just... want to see Ben, more than I want to do/see everyone else. I've become boring since I got a boyfriend, I know.
I APOLOGISE!
Actually work is very very very dull at the moment. Lots of people are away, people have been having their babies early all over the shop (one lady's waters actually broke at work...) and with holidays and conferences, there is a bit of a feeling of while the cats are away, the mice will.... sit looking blankly at their screens pretending to work but all probably actually emailing/facebooking. This is what my friend Amy reassures me whenever I have an attack of the guilts (frequently).
Um, um, um... really, there is not much going on in my life at the moment. I have failed to write, I have failed to do anything much at all in the evenings. I've even failed to watch Bonekickers on the iPlayer - same people who wrote Life on Mars? But about archaeology? BRING IT ON. It does look rather cool. Actually, I've downloaded it and will perhaps watch it over the weekend on my laptop. I also downloaded Journey's End so that I could re-watch it. There's no telly at Ben's yet, and while it doesn't bother him, if I'm going to be sitting at his waiting for him tonight (which I am...) I'd like to make sure that I don't get bored.
Oooh I know! A media round up. Why yes, this is what I do ALL DAY:
* I am loving the Go Fug Yourself girls at the moment. Go and see how they slagged off Selma Blair looking cute in a tap dancing outfit, but how they are loving Anne Hathaway doing Get Smart promotions. Very good.
* An article about Stephanie Meyer/ the Twilight movie over at Entertainment Weekly - I am suspicious of her, and having got really annoyed with Book 2 of Twilight (after finally coming round to the first) I think I'm not going to bother with Books 3 and 4. She annoys me. And she has lovely long red hair. The bitch.
* I like that Nicole Kidman called her daughter Sunday Rose. I think it's cute.
* Ooooh, The Ting Tings, I heard them in The Live Lounge on Monday morning on Radio 1, and I loved the new single LOADS LOADS LOADS, and I was already quite loving the previous one. My friend Amy says they remind her of 90s pop punkies BIS, and I can see where she's coming from. There is speculation about the girl singer's age, but even though she looks like she could be any age up to about 28, she sounds about 16, imo.
* It's official, I was disappointed with my first read of Harriet Evans' new book, The Love of Her Life, because even though I agree with the reviewers on Amazon that it is more accomplished and grown up, I just didn't warm to it like I did her others. Having said that, both of her books were growers on me, so maybe that won't be the case after my second read, which I am currently doing now, and there are details I like, and I'm thinking it's better. So you know, the jury's still out.
My weekend in Newmarket was lovely. I got to indulge my two favourite things; shopping and houses. Ben's new house was looking at touch grim, so I did my 'woman's touch' bit and ran around buying cushions and throws and candles and pot pourri, and making it generally prettier and nicer. And Ollie, the lodger, is OK. She's quite nice, really. But actually, what I really like is HER DOG, the cutest bounciest little thing called Poppy. Ahhhh...
No, I didn't want to leave. Yes, I am sad and missing Ben, but things are better this week than they were over the last couple of weeks. And I think now he's got his own place, and things are settling down a bit, I'll see him more. I mean, I now have my own key. I feel a bit smug about that, for some strange reason. I also feel a sense of ownership I don't even feel about my own shared house. Like, I built Ben's wardrobe. I bought it and built it while he was at work, as a surprise. If that's not love...
Things are otherwise fine and boring. I shouldn't be blogging at work, but that's how it's going to be. I shouldn't be on my third cup of tea of the day, either, but that's how it is too. Nor should I be nagging my boyfriend about taking stuff to the top from a distance of 200 miles, or however far it is, but I'm doing that too.
There are work things to complain about, but I won't. I'm going to bask in the loveliness of the end of Doctor Who for a little bit longer. And try not to fall asleep at my desk.
We were supposed to be going to the Cornbury Festival this weekend, but circumstances beyond my control have dictated that actually we can't. Well, Ben couldn't, and I didn't fancy going on my own, Neil didn't reply to my emails and Anna is working this weekend. So I have sold the tickets to a very nice man called Andy, who is taking his daughter and maybe her friend too. For £100. Is nice to have some cash in my wallet, and strange to know that Paul Simon is playing my adopted county, and I won't be there. Oh well. Sure I'm not missing out on too much.
Off to Newmarket again for the weekend, then. Newmarket is... well.... there's not much to do there, if you don't like horses or betting on horses. Ben's got a room in a house now, though, hurrah, so we can actually do things rather than stare at the walls of a bed and breakfast, like be able to make a cup of tea, or not be reduced to eating complimentary biscuits. Hopefully this time, too, the new regime will be in place and I will actually get Ben to myself for the afternoons/evenings.
Work is... yeah, let's not go there. Suffice to say, today has gone fast but slow. Like a mid-paced pop song, forgettable, but it's better than sitting listening to static. Actually, today, work is a bit like listening to the static. I'm just... waiting to see the boy.
Ooooh, lovely new housemate Vic came over to pick up her keys. She is just as smiley as I remembered, and because she works over in journals, dressed very smartly (hah! I am in pink floral skirt today!). I think it's going to be OK living with her, although she does seem to be a clean freak. As a messy person, is only slightly worrying.
Anyhoo, should really get back to the grindstone.
I am so bored at work.
That is all.
Twice.
I ache. I hate exercise. I hate being naturally disposed to holding on to fat as if I were a camel with a hump. However, since the doctor got strict with me, I weighed myself at the gym (no more awful, to be honest, than my worst) and I am now working out, and cutting out: cakes, crisps, biscuits, chocolate, chips, bread. Except that yesterday I forgot about the bread. But you know, every little helps.
The nice thing about going to the gym is it makes you tired and sleep well. The bad thing about going to the gym is it makes you so tired you can't do anything else in the evening - phew!
Not much doing, to be honest. I was thinking of having a fit of rebellion and doing no work today. But some was done, in between brushing up my CV and covering letter for jobs on the other side of the country. There has been much mulling over why I'm so disappointed with Harriet Evans' new book, which I was hoping to love, but instead I'm just 'meh' about - however, I was a bit that way about A Hopeless Romantic, and now I love that, so I'm going to give The Love of Her Life a slower second read. There has also been much mulling over the fact that I SHOULD BE WRITING. But circumstances dictate no writing at the moment. Like extreme tiredness, and having spent the weekend at home, and that sort of thing.
Oh, it was the Real Alan Rickman. He was exactly as he is in films, except in the flesh. And the contemporary dance thing wasn't bad, either. Barbara was very excited about see Alan Rickman, though, and dropped her program, talked loudly and was generally very embarrassing for 52 year old stepmother.
Oooh oooh, quick edit - you can see our neighbours' kitchen table from out bathroom window, and the Daily Mail has the hilarious headline "Calling All Fed Up Brits" - I don't know what it's about, but it's just so beautifully Daily Mail that it made me laugh (and then shrug and huff, because I'm a fed up Brit, too).
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aralias and it was too tempting not to. Rubbish. Rubbish rubbish rubbish. I just can't make the words on the page any good. I know I'm being critical, I know I can go back and FIX THINGS, and I tend to go back over old stuff anyway, when I write, but I'm having trouble. I'm basically doing it to kill time. I'm not leaving here til about 4pm. I want to go and be with Ben. I'm so excited about seeing him, and writing takes a back seat. Well, kind of. Last time I saw him I wrote him a poem. I don't know if he's even read it.
So I'll stop moaning and try to get on. I will I will I will.
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