What’s this you say? A blog update from the Yorkshire Expat before the month is out? Surely he is not in month 7 already? No folks, I’m not. And I’m not writing specifically to gloat about the glorious weather and tell you to be safe on the recent outbreak of black ice (if you are reading from the UK). No, I’m writing for much simpler reasons. Let me explain.
There are a couple of reasons.
Firstly, quite a lot has happened this month. And we are what, only half way through it. A trifle more, probably, before you get to reading this, so I thought I would treat you all to two installments in December. Call it an early Xmas present from me to you J
You know how tiresome I can sometimes get, “waffling on” as a friend accused me of recently. So by chunking into two episodes I am more likely to retain my loyal readership. That’s assuming there is actually anybody reading this. My sister always tells me she is the first to read it but I’m sure she is just trying to be nice.
And secondly, perhaps more importantly, more important than mere issues of me waffling on, is that I may not get to write a second blog. You may not get to read a second blog. Why is this? Well, the 21st December is mooted to be the end of the world. The Apocalypse. A Mayan prophecy? It could even be the infamous Zombie Apocalypse but I must admit to switching off when I hear people talk of their contingency plans in the event of an attack.
I hear that we need to find high ground. Avoid Coles the supermarket (apparently Zombies would laugh at your stupidity going there and come and snaffle you up). I’m not sure if it is specifically Coles that poses a threat. Maybe you would be safe in Woolworths. Who knows? The sea is no defence either, remembering zombies can walk on the sea bed. How could you ever forget! Basically, if they come, we are up the creek without a paddle. So just make sure you have your “zombie survival kit” under your bed. A few tins of beans, water and a shovel should suffice. Apparently.
Should they come for us*, I want you all to know, I love (loved) you. Just in different ways.
On a lighter note, the festive party season has commenced. We have had the work Xmas party, which was very enjoyable. How could it not be, 200 IT staff in one room together? *tries to keep a serious face*. We managed to circumvent the free bar closing at 2.30pm by tactically ordering bottles of wine from different, unsuspecting wait staff. I managed to stop myself from drinking a whole bottle of Cabernet, due to the fact I had a 5.15pm Spanish lesson. And a true story; what would the odds have been on one of the night’s phrases being, el esta borracho? (he is drunk). Madre mia.
At the party, a friend said to me, “I have not been this drunk since….September 2009”. Did I admit that I hadn’t been drunk since…the weekend? Not on your nelly.
The second Xmas party drinks were hosted by the recruitment agency I got my job through. Myself and a colleague went along after work expecting a sedate evening. We should have known this wasn’t going to be the case when we arrived at the venue, a swanky city bar, and were given the wristbands for the free drinks. And when I say free drinks, we had a choice of a full bar. That said, I probably shouldn’t have been drinking beer, followed by red wine, followed by spirits. Or should I? I had no Spanish lesson to go to, or no other pressing engagements. I think the alcohol was loosening a few tongues and some of the stories of swinging suburbia in Sydney were quite eye opening. In another of the tales, exactly how do the knickers of a friend’s wife end up in the tree in your garden? My weekends are positively tame in comparison.
My last weekend comprised me loaning a Xmas tree off a Twitter friend. I had mentioned on the micro blogging site that I was on the lookout for a tree and a Twitter follower in Sydney replied that they had one I could borrow. A few Tweets later and arrangements were made for the drop on Saturday. So, thanks @NickiGirlStar I still haven’t put it up yet, but the wine remains in the fridge ready for the task.
On that note, I will bid you farewell, let you get back to your Baileys, mince pies and Bing Crosby soundtrack, and wish you all a Happy Xmas.
Eat, drink and be very merry.
*Important note for mum, I don’t really believe the Zombies are coming. I know how you take everything I say so seriously. And yet I still love you.
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