Mmm, I love you long time
12.07.08, 9:43 pm
Bonsoir mes amis. I am back from my Paris holiday, but thought I wouldn’t talk about that until I can get my photos onto my computer, so you’ve got me covering life stuff this entry. This method is also infinitely more practical, as holiday stuff + life stuff + photos = one huge knobbing entry. Huge enough to suck the soul from even the strongest reader. Anyway, let’s get cracking.
So, Indie’s back at work and seems better, though still not 100%. She had her meeting with Big Boss last Friday, which I missed due to Paris, but she emailed me and said that it went okay, though she ended up “crying like a girl”. The bad news, though, is that she’s leaving work earlier than originally planned, and quits at the end of July. This only leaves a few weeks. I am very sad about it, as we have worked together for nearly two years, and she is now one of my closest friends because of it. Having someone wash formaldehyde out of your clothes whilst you wander around the lab semi-naked builds a special kind of friendship. Eventually two new people will be hired, and the students are still here, but I'm pretty sure it won't be the same for the following reasons.
They will not:
* have mad 50's afternoons with me, where we whack Buddy Holly on really loudly and do the twist down the bottom end of the lab in case Big Boss wanders in.
* quote League of Gentlemen with me for an hour, and then spend the next six months randomly doing a Herr Lip accent (still ongoing, still fun).
* not get sick of telling me that my erratic, late-again period does not mean that I'm with knobbing child.
* make kissy faces at me across the table during important meeting when no one is looking.
* spend Friday afternoons with me talking about sex, namely the strangeness that is sex outfits, why being on top is best, whether groping is in fact better than actual sex, and how very long it has been since we have had actual sex.
* buy me little bars of chocolate with a post-it note attached declaring “I LOVE YOU LONG TIME” when I'm having a bad week.
* spend Monday mornings with me taking random photos on the camera inside the MicroCT machine, usually of us in lab coats, surgical masks and gloves.
* sneak up behind me when I'm in the fume hood and whisper "Mmm you've got a nice girl shape" in my ear.
Mostly though, I'll just miss not talking to her about every little detail of my life, because spending 35 hours a week with someone, plus evening phonecalls, is quite a lot of sodding time. Obviously it's not the end of the world though, as I will see her outside of work, but it’s still completely rubbish. Speaking of which, as a leaving present I’m organising a private horse riding lesson for the two of us, as Indie’s never been on a horse and is determined to at some point.
Needless to say, horse riding is not one of my maddest skillz. I did go riding for a short while, but do not remember being particularly talented at it, not least because I felt bad tugging the horse about the place. Nonetheless, Indie should hopefully enjoy it.
Have been in London since Thursday night, at the boy’s – going back to Sheffield tomorrow as I have hideous work on Monday. We spent Friday morning looking for a dress for me, as I have a black-tie party that I have to go to next Sunday. This party is also in London, so Indie and I are driving down Sunday afternoon, and then driving back around midnight, stopping at her mum’s for the night (in Nottingham), and then heading into work in the morning. I will, quite literally, DIE. I’m also dying for us to stop off at a grotty M1 service station at eleven o’clock at night and go tripping in in our black-tie gear, and then go and sit in the shitty canteen and drink some coffee. This party is taking place on a boat and will be mostly inhabited by stranger rahs. Me and Indie, both northern and distinctly unrahish, will be sticking out like two throbbing thumbs. Will try and do the twist regardless.
Anyway, Friday morning was spent on Oxford Street, and I miraculously found a dress in Debenhams that looked half-decent, and after a quick frantic phonecall to my friend Katie to see if she could shorten the straps for me (I can’t sew. At all) I bought the thing, and after tootling around London looking at the sights we went home. It was then that I realised that the zip was totally fucked. Therefore we had to knob back into London to change the sodding thing, right during rush hour. I don’t like the underground at the best of times, and certainly do not like the Jubilee line at 5pm. The main thing, though, is that I have a grown-up dress. Now all I have to do is learn how to walk in heels, as I haven’t worn heels bigger than an inch in literal YEARS. It’s completely shameful. I’m just really quite lazy when it comes to footwear.
In family news, my gran is having another operation on the 4th August, to do the same thing again to the next vertebrae up, and to also glue another vertebrae back together. Like I said last time, 80 year-old women on Warfarin should not be having major operations, but it has to be done. In the meantime, I shall remain worried.
Today was spent having coffee with a very strange friend of James’s, who is unlike anyone I have ever met, and then having lunch with James’s sister and boyfriend. I ate an entire pizza in about ten minutes. They’re all now at this party, but I begged leave on account of being completely exhausted. Bed is looking like an excellent idea right now.
I’m sure I have other stuff to bang on about, but I’m nearing 1000 words and should definitely stop. I’ll post the holiday pictures when I’m back in Sheffield.
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