Back in the saddle

Riding motorcycles is fucking scary. No seriously, they are weird and wrong.

I was all wobbly and inelegant, everyone was out to kill me and it all felt very unsafe.

I stopped for petrol and had a word with myself saying things like 'you love this' and 'this is the reason you got this job'.

After that things got a bit better, and over a long weekend of riding I got mostly back to where I was before. I say mostly because I can spot areas that I'm still not riding very well.

It was a nice return to riding, and it was also nice being able to ride down to London to see the girl. I handed the bike back after a weekend of riding. I'd covered about 550 miles which is pretty good going and it didn't have a scratch on it.

I think we will mark that one down as a win.

The joy of packing

I can't believe it but I really, really enjoy packing. Moving house is a nightmare but I love packing for adventures.

Today is a good example. I have to pack three seperate items.

1) Gym bag for three visits to the gym
2) Weekend bag, that will keep me presentable until Monday
3) Overnight bag for today, with a laptop and champagne

The gymbag will live at work so that is the easy one. Although I'm going to the gym today. So I need to put at least one days worth of sexy pants in that, for the date tonight.

The weekend bag is tricky. I've got a work event so I need to wear a range of styles of clothing and then I'll be in London so that's a different dress code. I need the absolute minimum because, as ever, space is limited. I'll be presenting awards, hanging around with the 'salt of the earth' and walking a beagle. So yes, quite a range.

It's like a complicated logic puzzle of clothes and I love it.

The spaz rides again.

Tomorrow will be a big day. Not because it means pay-day is less than a week away but because I will ride a motorbike for the first time since the crash about seven months ago.

I've had to get a new helmet since the last one is now being used as presentation aid of what happens when you crash. The company who made it are delighted that it worked so well. The new helmet is white (nice and visible), I used to only wear silver helmets but it's time for a change.

I'm excited to get back on a bike but also a bit nervous, my last ride was well eventful and it's taken about six months before I can kneel again. I doubt the circulation in my foot will ever fully recover. I'm not dead though, and I can walk and run nd things. let's focus on the important stuff.

I've only got the bike for a few days - I'm being loaned it to ride to a work thing, so this is a test really, and a blessing. A blessing because having suddenly increased mobility means I can whizz down to London to see the girl. The girl that things are going very well with.

So well that I'm going to see her on the weekend too. Blimey, that's like a few days in a row. What ever next?

In which Louche and his possy win an award.

I won, well my team and I won. So that's good. We deserved it.

The awards were fun, they looked and acted like the awards off the telly but with terrible presenters (The MD and some head of digital lady) and far more drunken tomfoolery.

For a while it looked like we weren't going to get any awards, we didn't even get nominated for some catagories. People started getting a bit fighty and then we won some stuff and it calmed down a bit.

I got drunk, made some good contacts in the London office and danced. Chuck came over and talked to me which was a bit awkward but I managed get involved in an arm-wresting contest with a co-worker and she went away. Phew.

We nearly got stranded in London - the coach back tried to leave without us. But the Hat had already said I could stay at her place if I wanted.

It was a terribly kind offer, which I wanted to take up but I thought I should really hang around with my award winning team. You know celebrate with the darling little nerds.

Which one is suitable?

I'm applying for more jobs now. I'm going to try and apply for at least one a day. The company awards are on Thursday, and I'm going to use them to chat to loads of London people and pimp myself out.

I need to think carefully about what to wear. I have my trusty pinstripe suit. It's brilliantly cut, has served me well and gets compliments.

Or I could dig out the lilac suit, it's a bit mad so people won't forget me, but well it's quite loud. I suppose I shouldn't buy loud suits if I'm not going to wear them. It's a tricky one.

The Lilac suit will cause a scene (if I still fit into it) but will it make people think 'gosh I need to give that chap a job'?

Also I'm not sure how I'm going to get home from the awards either. There is a coach back to work, but then I'll have to get back to the Wilderness.

If I'm going to be stuck in the middle of no-where I think I'd prefer to be in a faintly normal suit, although in hindsight stumbling around the countryside at 3am dressed as a dandy makes a better story.

Job Fail

I didn't get the job, I didn't even get an interview for the job. Bah humbug.

Can't give up though. I must be resolute, I must get a job in London and that's just that. No turning back. V. annoying though. This job would have been terribly convenient, and probably good fun. Bah again.

Right, back to the hunt.

Waiting and running

Tomorrow is the closing date for applications for the job. I'm rather excited, even though I know it's decidedly dangerous to get too excited about these sort of things.

I can't help but day dream about life in London again, a life where I bump into chums in the street and people call up and say 'I've got a spare ticket to X, fancy coming along tonight?'

I miss meeting friends for lunch but most of all I miss the seasons of London. Not just the different times of year, but the different times of day.

The white heat of post-work Soho, to the eery silence of early morning Knightsbridge. Lazy lunch times in Hampstead and even the frantic bustle of Picadilly.

These used to be part of my day, I could go and see facinating art, or stare at dinosaurs for free, and walk there and back. Many bizarre adventures to strange parts of London were undertaken with the warming comfort that if it all went wrong I could just walk home.

I once got lost in the city after drinking with a strange mixture of people and had to use the river to navigate. I found it, got on the North side and then bimbled my way home.

To some people that would sound like a nightmare, but to me it's now a fond memory.

I really home I get this job.