Living for the Weekend

At the moment, weekends are really good. I'm staggering from one event to the other and spending lots of time with people I like. However, this is starting to get to the point where work is so quiet after busy-ness (and I am being forced to file) that they take a zillion years to even get to the weekends meaning that my time is divided unequally between zippy, fun, social stuff and crappy, slow, boring stuff. Currently, I am in denial that it is Wednesday today as this week has already been so long that it simply must be Friday. As soon as I get home, time resumes normal speed again and I can quite happily spend a half hour sorting the cats out and putting things away and it feels like half an hour rather than a day.

I spent a very pleasant evening last night when MuleBoy was out, sorting out a couple of bills (which is actually quite pleasant at the moment as people keep giving me money), deciding on recipes for Friday evening when we're having family over to celebrate MuleBoy's Mum's Birthday (I've narrowed it down to about twelve) and having Steve the cat fall asleep on me while watching The Terminal on Sky Movies. Not great but actually not subject to the recent Spielberg disease of half-hour-too-long-itis. It needed some story refinement but at least when it got to the end it didn't keep going. The best bit by far was the main character's reaction when he gets to America and is running around the airport frantically trying to find out what is happening to his now-dissolved, war-torn country on the airport TVs. Completely isolated and unable to read the English onscreen or hear because they don't have the sound up, he eventually has to resort to standing outside, looking in at the TV in the VIP section with automatic doors closing in front of his face every few seconds. There were other nice touches, such as the contents of the tin he carried around with him and the ending. But ultimately schmaltz became the overriding (and overbearing) characteristic of the film, which let it down.

Well, at least writing this has made time go a bit speedier. I only have seven hours and forty minutes to go now so should be able to make it until the evening. Go me!

What's it all about, Alfie?

Or, what's this, what's going on here sweetie? as Karen from Will and Grace may say. Unfortunately I hated the remake Alfie (haven't seen the original) and find myself liking W&G less every time it's on. Anywho, I was only trying to express the confusion that you, gentle readers, would naturally be feeling at my posting two days in a row. I don't know what to say, must have just got bitten by the bug again.

I saw Ponytail Boy today. There's something of a saga behind this one. About two or three years ago, maybe even four (help me out, when was Finding Nemo released?) I went to the cinema to see, well, Finding Nemo with a group of people. On coming out, one of the ushers, a short, chubby blonde guy with a ponytail (hence the name) stopped me and said "Hi, Alice. How are you doing?" Now that's a friendly greeting isn't it? Implying an acquaintance where the pair have perhaps met regularly for a period of time but haven't seen each other for a while. I had absolutely no recollection of him AT ALL and allowed myself to be swept away by the large crowd exiting the screen. MuleBoy and I go to the same cinema regularly and he would generally be there and I would smile and act like I knew him and ask surreptitious questions of his co-workers. I asked one girl his name and she said it was Toby. I know no Tobys. Eventually it got very awkward because he'd twigged I had no idea who he was and I was too chicken to just ask him his name and where he knew me from. But I stopped seeing him at the cinema and didn't think about it again. Imagine my joy when I turned around a corner one day at work and realised he works for the same company as me now. Oh. Crap. So on the days when I see him it's back to awkward smiles and uncomfortable silence. One day I will find out, I promise.

Was it only myself and Mrs Drunken Accomplice (presently sober, birdseed eating Accomplice) who mourned the loss of Nikki from Big Brother? I don't understand a public who get rid of the really arsey, interesting people in the house. They want fights, sex and bitchiness but don't want the people who actually do these things to stay in. I miss her already. ("Who is she? Where did you find her? Who is she?)

Update

So here's a quick rundown of the past two, blog-free weeks:

Moved
Unpacked
Did garden (except old bamboo which defeated me)
Mule Boy painted the front of the house
Had housewarming, hurt back trying to rescue Scotland Girl from my bathroom
Walked around like an old woman at various events at the weekend
Was bullied and forced to go to doctor's, realised I hadn't changed doctor's and had to go to Havant
Worked very very hard at work and it felt very long. Filing looming like an unavoidable monster
Applied for new job which is my job but for more money. Fingers crossed, everybody
Went to see play; cried but didn't laugh and was subsequently confused by the play as a whole
Had an anniversary dinner and cinema date with the Mule. It was v. v. nice. I still like him a lot
GOT CATS!!!!!
Had Mr and Mrs Drunken Accomplice round for a meal on Saturday and used the new oven properly. Tempted to really push it, using both grills, both ovens, griddle plate and all four hobs. Also determined to invite more people over for dinner as forgot how nice cooking properly is.
Had a preview of our Italian holiday. Got drunk, embarrassed myself with the language and fell asleep. Cannot wait!
Took a day off work and went clothes shopping with MuleBoy. Not as much of a chore as you'd think.
Am now at work and still many nice things are stretching out before me. What a good Summer this is turning out to be.