Nickname-itis

I have it and I can't stop. No matter what I do to control it, they slip out. I blame my parents. Being a nickname myself, I subconsciously feel the need for everyone else to have one too. Join in the fun. The more the merrier. But I tend to receive many others too.. the ones of late are interesting. (Smacky and Scoops are mine... Jay-Z and ChimpanLee have come back at them. Or maybe I started it. But that's not like me, so probably not).

Back to serious matters... me. My fascinating life. My gripping tales. My thrilling adventures. My non-sensical ramblings. Me, me, me.

I have done nothing of interest this week. (Speaking of gripping tales.) It's been all about finding work this week. I've been meeting with people arranging meetings and having mild breakdowns at the thought of reality. But the funny thing is I want it. But I don't. I want to use my head and have a job I care about. But I don't know what kind of job. I want a flat and some space to myself but I really like hostel life and people. Anyway, it will all sort itself out. Stay tuned...

In the process of all this life-changing fun, I ventured out to Windsor for an afternoon, about 30 mins by train from city centre. I had heard talk about this little castle out there and thought I would have a look around before going off to meet some people. The castle is enormous. Gigantic. Monstrous. Bleeping huge. It is unbelievable. So I walked around the outside, snapped a few photos, guffawed at the £12.50 admission and wandered around the town for an hour or so. It's quite a small quaint town with cobblestone shopping streets and immaculate, brightly painted homes with perfect flower beds lining the streets. It was hard to realize that it was so close to the city but so much in the country.

Reschedule this Camilla!

So I didn't make it to the wedding. I had cleared my exhaustive calendar of events for Friday, found an outift, decided on a gift, had everything sorted so that I could honour my invitation to the royal wedding, but what happens? The Pope croaks, so a bunch of protestants reschedule their little gala around it. And, of course, I have to work on Saturdays, so I couldn't make it after all. Bugger it.

You know all the press attacks Camilla and have been running stories all week about how the future king could have any woman he wanted so why her? But he did have that - the pretty wife who the public adored, and you see where that got him. And it's not like he's a real Prince Charming either.

In it's own way, I think Charles & Camilla's story is a true modern day fairy tale. They met when they were young but for whatever reasons stayed apart. Their whole life - through marriages and children - they have still only really been in love with each other. It's quite sweet really, once you take away all the cheating, lies and deception.

Friday night involved another round of CHANCHO! Did I explain this? It's like spoons but you slam your hands down instead of grabbing the spoon. Last person down drinks... Danger Bay.... but so funny. And of course I had to do the 12 hour shift on Saturday... arriving an hour late due to ... not hearing my alarm at all. After I finished my lovely roommate Mike made me dinner, we had a cup of tea and I was in bed early - yeah!

I finally started feeling human again ( although not sounding it yet) from this $%£^ cold yesterday, so i took advantage of the nice weather and walked up to Marble Arch (a corner of Hyde Park) to listen to the people at Speaker's Corner. Every Sunday morning random people arrive at the park with a stool of box or something to stand on. They start speaking on a subject of their choice, a crowd gathers round, debates start, hecklers invade - it's fantastic. I spent well over an hour listening to all the different people talk about a range of things - socialism, philosphy of the world's problems, religion, economic problems of the EU, identity cards in the UK, homosexuals, Marxism, and one lady who would proclaim that Jesus is the answer to everything but if you follow him you're a moron. It was a fantastic atmosphere with so many people milling about and intelligent debators wandering to and fro. Some people were more about having a discussion, others a lecture, most a debate.

My plan was to then walk up to the British Museum which is supposedly incredible, showcasing everything Britain has stolen from the rest of the world. There was one key flaw in this plan that I failed to recognize in the development stage... to walk from 1 to the other, I was to take Oxford Street. The shopping street. The museum will be open next weekend.

After having a cold and snowy! few days, the weather today is absolutely gorgeous - I just came from spending about 2.5 hours in the park, reading, watching the kids, soaking in the sun... fantastic. Bring on summer.

I'll never find a job at this rate will I?