The Long Way

God where do I start? I've been disappeared from this blog for over a week, and have precious little to show for it. It's hardly like I went on holiday!

Firstly I recently moved house and have literally only just sorted the internet, so that my excuse, and I hope I haven't lost too many readers (although numbers are dwindling at an alarming rate!)

Guess it means I should make a decent entry.

How do you fancy hear about my trip to Amsterdam? Yes, ok then here goes.

Alarm seems to be going off, I don't understand as it's still dark outside, but rolling over I see that yes, it is 3.30am and I have to be up to catch the first flight out of Heathrow for my exciting adventure to the land of clogs. I manage to stumble around my room, stand on a plug and stub my toe, all without waking up the rest of the house (well, does the cat count?).

Stumbling out of the house in high heels and a respectable trouser suit I thank my lucky stars that the car isn't frozen over (time is currently 3.55am, the taxi is leaving work at 4am...I'm cutting it fine). Arriving bang on time I meet the other guys and we have surprisingly easy banter with the taxi driver all the way to the airport and manage to check in before security is even open (current thoughts: does the world exist at this time of day/night/twilight zone? what happens if I say "bomb"?...will I get to go back to bed?)
An extraordinarily large cup of tea and a pain au chocolat later and I'm on the KLM flight. At this point I'm convinced that I'm being flown today by the men in the Grolsch advert and the cheese and ham sandwich served for breakfast at 6.45am doesn't go down well. My stomach start to reject the ham and cheese and starts to remember that in less than 4 hours I'll be pitching ideas to an enormous company. Bricking it, moi? Non.

Amsterdam was lovely, again entirely populated by people who I am convinced will tell me that they'll "only let me drink it when it's ready", however the rain and odd proliferation of enormous decorated clogs doesn't put us off and the meeting is completed successfully if a little lengthily. The taxi banter on the way back to the airport is first rate, and I decide that actually G is nice, as well as gorgeous....Get in.

After a lunch of cheese and ham sandwiches, and a long wait at the airport (I still can't get over the difference the smoking ban makes here; you only notice when its not the same in other countries) and a relaxing nap with the iPod, we were back on the plane being fed yet more cheese and ham sandwiches.
I ended up back in bed by 10pm, but completely exhausted for the rest of this week.

In other news; my housemates had a halloween BBQ, which was quite a success and I met lots of lovely people (even though I retired to bed at 9.30...) and I'm counting my incredibly lucky stars that I moved out of the B&B, I've now had to become the master of deceptions - inventing meetings with friends, family outings and general engagements to avoid the tired advances of the Old Man. He really won't take no for an answer and I've taken to hiding in the office at lunch, avoiding him and leaving requests for dates unanswered. And he still hasn't got the hint. I wonder if I should go into work with it tattooed on my forehead. Mind you he'd be too busy gazing at me in a vomit inducing puppy-eyed stylie to notice.

Work is manic at the moment, and I'm rushed off my feet (in a great way) however I have earnt myself a reputation for wearing 4 inch heels - it seems that people at work don't see them often as they're always commenting. Maybe they don't like me being 6ft 2...(mind you I don't like being 6ft2 but I just love pretty shoes....)

So, from now on back to the regular posting and I promise to attempt to catch up with my blog reading

xx