The bank holiday has landed! I'm about to leave the office, hop and a train and head straight up to Birmingham to see my dearest girls. Spring Bank Holiday weekend is a time long tradition of attending Gay Pride, drinking too much and dancing until our feet can no longer hold us up.
I will also be seeing my closest friend E tonight, fresh back from her four months in Kenya. This has been the longest time, since we met during the first week at university, that we have been apart. I am bringing the DVD's (classic period dramas to feed our addiction to good old fashioned romance), and she is supplying the feast.
This trip will be strange, as it will be my first journey home since I found out I had a new job in London. I had always promised myself, and my friends, that my time in London would be short and that my next job would bring me home. I can't help but feel I've gone back on my word in a small way, but the right reasons I hope.
Have a lovely weekend everyone, what ever you get up to!
Showing posts with label Birmingham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birmingham. Show all posts
Friday, 22 May 2009
Sunday, 4 January 2009
Reflections of 2008 and onwards into 2009
Yes I'm abit behind with my the seasonal blog posts, but I barely stepped near a computer for the blissful two weeks I spent back in the 'shire.
2008 for me has whizzed by in abit of a blur really. This time last year I was just moving into my new flat in London and in the same job I'm in now - so really there has been very little change. Oh and I'm still single. But I've had my fair share of dates, including a drop dead gorgeous cricket playing surrey lad, a stock broker and a personal trainer. Oh and not forgetting the toy boy from Ibiza who still lingers but for how long I don't know. I had an amazing holiday to Ibiza that now seems like a distant dream. And finally I got myself into more debt this year living in London than I have ever been in in my life. Although it is all manageable and is not stressing me out really. Marks out of ten for the year? I'd give it an eight for fun times, but a low six for life satisfaction.
So what about New Year's Resolutions? Basically to sort my life out. It is glaringly obvious to all who know me that London is not really the city for me, I've had fun but i've never been blissfully happy. London to me feels like a relationship that you are not all that happy in, but can't quite bring yourself to be bothered to leave. So it's time to get my arse into gear and leave! All my closest friends still live in Birmingham and I really miss them. As well as missing my family and the ever increasing debt as London is totally unaffordable on my salary.
This time next year I resolve to be living in a nice little two bedroomed semi in Birmingham, with a small garden and two cats. Boyfreind would be nice. Car desired. Job satisfaction essential. I've started researching suitable companies in my field to approach already, so watch this space. Hopefully soon this will become a blog of relocation.
Best piece of advice given to me over the festive period: "2009 is your year, and you alone are responsible for your happiness - so if changes need to be made, MAKE THEM, or 2010 will come round and you will still be sat at this table moaning that things are 'OK' but not 'Great'." Hear hear! :o)
2008 for me has whizzed by in abit of a blur really. This time last year I was just moving into my new flat in London and in the same job I'm in now - so really there has been very little change. Oh and I'm still single. But I've had my fair share of dates, including a drop dead gorgeous cricket playing surrey lad, a stock broker and a personal trainer. Oh and not forgetting the toy boy from Ibiza who still lingers but for how long I don't know. I had an amazing holiday to Ibiza that now seems like a distant dream. And finally I got myself into more debt this year living in London than I have ever been in in my life. Although it is all manageable and is not stressing me out really. Marks out of ten for the year? I'd give it an eight for fun times, but a low six for life satisfaction.
So what about New Year's Resolutions? Basically to sort my life out. It is glaringly obvious to all who know me that London is not really the city for me, I've had fun but i've never been blissfully happy. London to me feels like a relationship that you are not all that happy in, but can't quite bring yourself to be bothered to leave. So it's time to get my arse into gear and leave! All my closest friends still live in Birmingham and I really miss them. As well as missing my family and the ever increasing debt as London is totally unaffordable on my salary.
This time next year I resolve to be living in a nice little two bedroomed semi in Birmingham, with a small garden and two cats. Boyfreind would be nice. Car desired. Job satisfaction essential. I've started researching suitable companies in my field to approach already, so watch this space. Hopefully soon this will become a blog of relocation.
Best piece of advice given to me over the festive period: "2009 is your year, and you alone are responsible for your happiness - so if changes need to be made, MAKE THEM, or 2010 will come round and you will still be sat at this table moaning that things are 'OK' but not 'Great'." Hear hear! :o)
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
Tales from the land of Brum
So I've just had one of those weekends when you wake up Monday morning and realise you are going to have to survive for the next three weeks on a diet of baked beans and soup. My online bank statement kindly informed me this morning that I had pretty much pissed all my money up the wall and I now have little over £100 to last me until payday. Luckily payday comes early thanks to Christmas, but that means I am so going to feel the pinch in January!
I started my weekend with a visit to the Covent Garden Comedy Club in central London. And it did exactly what it says on the tin, I laughed so much I nearly cried. The comedians were so funny, but probably the funniest moment of the night was a woman on the front row who started shouting at the headline artist for his joke about the blind. Apparently she had a blind son. Now the thing is I could maybe empathise if he had been offensive to the blind, but his joke was mearly saying the blind get a bum deal with a dog, and things should move with the times supplying sticks with sat-nav and inbuilt MP3 players... Not really that offensive. Well, this lady stood up and started shouting at the comedian telling him to move on... of course he told her to pipe down. If you are prone to be offended by certain themes then maybe a comedy club should not be high on your night's out agenda, let along taking a seat on the front row!
The next morning I woke with a heavy head after a long night of drinking and dining, and caught the train back up to my university city of Birmingham for one of my best friend's birthday. Birmingham is amazing at this time of the year. The German Christmas Markets are in town, which means festive shopping and large quantities of mulled wine and frankfurter sausages. So the day was spent catching up with old friends and warming ourselves in the freezing temperatures with large quantities of warm alcohol.
When our toes reached the brink of frostbite it was time to head back and get ready for the night ahead. And surely a birthday night out back home with the girls could be nothing more than perfect?? Oh dear. Well me and my two friends spent so long drunkenly getting ready at the hotel we didn't make it out until 11pm, by which time the birthday girl was already in tears due to an argument with her friends from home home. Not a good start. We had a few drinks and pep talk with our lady and things looked on the up so we all headed onto Gatecrasher Birmingham, where we were supposed to be on VIP guestlist with free entry. Only the birthday girl's friend had not quite come up with the goods and there was a disgusting door bitch who was rude to the point of insulting and made the poor girl take her coat off to check what she was wearing.
So we all pay ten pounds a head to get in, minus the VIP wristbands we had been promised and entered the worst club we have ever been to. Gatecrasher is a revamped nightclub in a venue that used to the The Works - a cheesy club right on the corner of Broad Street. It used to be chav central and awful music ahoy. Well lets just say a lick of paint and a few fancy chandeliers does not a good club make.
It was simply awful, and so falsely pretentious now since the make over. I love house music, and glamor, but this club was something else. There was no atmosphere, just a thousand back-combed wannabe's and men looking for some easy skirt. The music the cheesy end of house, and the dance floor was packed out but lacking any atmosphere whatsoever. My idea of pure hell. Combine that with a half hour bar queue and crying birthday girl and a good night you do not have.
Soph ended up leaving after an hour, leaving me, E and LM with no option to drink ourselves into oblivion. An utter disaster of a night, but a lesson well learned. Never, ever to return to the Gatecrasher in Birmingham. A leopard never changes it's spots and the Works on Broad Street will always be the Works even if you patch it up with designer wallpaper. I wish we had gone to Bushwackers, our usual Brummie haunt - small, fabulous atmosphere and amazing dirty electro and speed garage all night. Bad club aside though, it was still so good seeing my girls who i miss so much down here, and plenty of laughs were had.
So I arrive back in London Sunday dehydrated and hungover to hell to see D, whose birthday it was. I was to cook him his favorite meal of rare steak, only i fucked that up good and proper thanks to my hangover. Oh well, he was kind enough to pretend he didn't mind being presented with a cremated well done piece of meat. What a nice boy he is, and the cuddles more than made up of my empty bank balance and shriveled liver.
Note to self: next time leave the bank card at home!
I started my weekend with a visit to the Covent Garden Comedy Club in central London. And it did exactly what it says on the tin, I laughed so much I nearly cried. The comedians were so funny, but probably the funniest moment of the night was a woman on the front row who started shouting at the headline artist for his joke about the blind. Apparently she had a blind son. Now the thing is I could maybe empathise if he had been offensive to the blind, but his joke was mearly saying the blind get a bum deal with a dog, and things should move with the times supplying sticks with sat-nav and inbuilt MP3 players... Not really that offensive. Well, this lady stood up and started shouting at the comedian telling him to move on... of course he told her to pipe down. If you are prone to be offended by certain themes then maybe a comedy club should not be high on your night's out agenda, let along taking a seat on the front row!
The next morning I woke with a heavy head after a long night of drinking and dining, and caught the train back up to my university city of Birmingham for one of my best friend's birthday. Birmingham is amazing at this time of the year. The German Christmas Markets are in town, which means festive shopping and large quantities of mulled wine and frankfurter sausages. So the day was spent catching up with old friends and warming ourselves in the freezing temperatures with large quantities of warm alcohol.
When our toes reached the brink of frostbite it was time to head back and get ready for the night ahead. And surely a birthday night out back home with the girls could be nothing more than perfect?? Oh dear. Well me and my two friends spent so long drunkenly getting ready at the hotel we didn't make it out until 11pm, by which time the birthday girl was already in tears due to an argument with her friends from home home. Not a good start. We had a few drinks and pep talk with our lady and things looked on the up so we all headed onto Gatecrasher Birmingham, where we were supposed to be on VIP guestlist with free entry. Only the birthday girl's friend had not quite come up with the goods and there was a disgusting door bitch who was rude to the point of insulting and made the poor girl take her coat off to check what she was wearing.
So we all pay ten pounds a head to get in, minus the VIP wristbands we had been promised and entered the worst club we have ever been to. Gatecrasher is a revamped nightclub in a venue that used to the The Works - a cheesy club right on the corner of Broad Street. It used to be chav central and awful music ahoy. Well lets just say a lick of paint and a few fancy chandeliers does not a good club make.
It was simply awful, and so falsely pretentious now since the make over. I love house music, and glamor, but this club was something else. There was no atmosphere, just a thousand back-combed wannabe's and men looking for some easy skirt. The music the cheesy end of house, and the dance floor was packed out but lacking any atmosphere whatsoever. My idea of pure hell. Combine that with a half hour bar queue and crying birthday girl and a good night you do not have.
Soph ended up leaving after an hour, leaving me, E and LM with no option to drink ourselves into oblivion. An utter disaster of a night, but a lesson well learned. Never, ever to return to the Gatecrasher in Birmingham. A leopard never changes it's spots and the Works on Broad Street will always be the Works even if you patch it up with designer wallpaper. I wish we had gone to Bushwackers, our usual Brummie haunt - small, fabulous atmosphere and amazing dirty electro and speed garage all night. Bad club aside though, it was still so good seeing my girls who i miss so much down here, and plenty of laughs were had.
So I arrive back in London Sunday dehydrated and hungover to hell to see D, whose birthday it was. I was to cook him his favorite meal of rare steak, only i fucked that up good and proper thanks to my hangover. Oh well, he was kind enough to pretend he didn't mind being presented with a cremated well done piece of meat. What a nice boy he is, and the cuddles more than made up of my empty bank balance and shriveled liver.
Note to self: next time leave the bank card at home!
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