Rob, Rambling - A lot of things interest me...

Going behind the girlfriend’s back to organise a surprise party for her feels really dirty and devious. But I like it!

Hopefully all of us can keep our mouths shut for the next couple of weeks, and I’ll score multiple boyfriend points.

All of which will be negated the very next day when I go to the football on the actual day of her birthday…

Last night’s dinner party was quite a success, I reckon. By the time I got home from work, my flat was already full of people, and the cooking was well under way. My job was to basically drink and be charming. Not a problem, especially the first one.

Somehow I still ended up having to whisk a shitload of double cream for one of the desserts, which made me put an electric whisk onto my list-of-things-to-buy. Seriously, doing it manually is an absolute killer.

We pretty much drank the place dry, which was unfortunate because there was one bottle of red wine that I was particularly looking to hang on to for a more relaxed supping, rather than just a.n.other bottle in the course of an evening. Such are the costs of hosting, I guess.

Surprisingly, the flat managed to contain everyone pretty well, all fifteen of them. Admittedly, people were eating whilst perched on the arms of the sofa, but it worked. And we even had enough cutlery/crockery for everyone to use, which was a pleasant surprise. The annual household goods Christmas presents from my extended family finally showed their worth.

I actually really enjoy hosting get-togethers and dinner parties, even if I spend most of the evening rushing around, making sure everyone’s having a good time. I invariably have a great time, just shooting the shit and chatting. If everyone else is feeling good, then I’ve done my hosting duties well, and that makes me have a good time.

Thankfully, the girlfriend is off work this week, so she’s cleaning the flat up today, along with a friend who stayed over. All in all, I basically did no work whatsoever for this party. Hurrah!

Apparently there are 15 people coming round to my flat for dinner this evening. Fifteen! The flat is barely bigger than a shoebox, and we’ve got to squeeze 15 people in there. I guess we’ll be getting to know each other really well.

The girlfriend is determined to start hosting dinner parties now that we’ve got our own place, and the first one is tonight. Her parents, some friends, their parents and some more friends. Eek!

I’m just glad that I’m working today at the office, and won’t be getting home until just about when everyone else shows up. I’ll be walking in, taking a beer out of the fridge and hopefully be handed a plate of dinner. These are the kind of hosting duties I can cope with.

The girlfriend has organised something tonight for my birthday, and I’ve no idea what. I’m flying off on holiday tomorrow, which is also my birthday, and she told me last week to keep this evening free.

I’m still in the dark, and it was only a couple of hours ago that she said to meet at Piccadilly Circus at 6.30 this evening. A few mates are apparently coming, but I’ve got no clue at all what’s going on. I’m assuming booze is involved, because she knows I like that sort of thing.

And I’m genuinely excited. I’ve organised my own birthday for the last few years, so it’s great for someone to do this for me. The mind boggles as to what she’s got planned.

I’ve warmed up with a couple of beers at lunchtime, “sunshine drinks” being obligatory in my company, and I’m ready for whatever she can throw at me.

I had one of those meet-n-greet industry schmoozefest things this evening, which I could’ve done without. It was good to see a load of people again, especially as it was hosted by my old workplace and a load of mates are still there, but it was still a bit bleh.

I really like the industry I’m in and my job within it, but there are a good few of these types of events and they’re all the same: a bit of booze, maybe some food, some small talk and possibly meeting one new person. That said, you do get some useful snippets of information out of them.

And some of them are abroad, which is a plus. I’ve got 48 hours in Switzerland at the end of this month, which should be really good fun. I’ve not been to Switzerland in years, and I’m intrigued as to how it is in the middle of summer. Plus I did some business with the host recently, so am very much in the good books there…

Victory is ours! I’m ashamed to admit that it wasn’t me who managed to break it, but the birthday girl herself ® after taking off the blindfold and just battering the hell out of the thing. Poor donkey.

Victory is ours! I’m ashamed to admit that it wasn’t me who managed to break it, but the birthday girl herself ® after taking off the blindfold and just battering the hell out of the thing. Poor donkey.

The Aftermath.
This is what the kitchen looked like the morning after the houseparty. This doesn’t even begin to describe the general level of mess throughout the whole of the house. Worth it though!

The Aftermath.

This is what the kitchen looked like the morning after the houseparty. This doesn’t even begin to describe the general level of mess throughout the whole of the house. Worth it though!

I’d like to say that a French friend of mine has come all the way to London just for my party thing this evening, but she’s actually visiting another friend just round the corner. As a bonus, there’s four french fillies turning up. Hurrah!

We’re having a housewarming BBQ tonight, so there are literally piles of food and booze in our kitchen. And the worst thing is that I’m not allowed to touch any of it for at least 6 hours.

We’re having a housewarming BBQ tonight, so there are literally piles of food and booze in our kitchen. And the worst thing is that I’m not allowed to touch any of it for at least 6 hours.

“ Um…how about Germany..I mean, lederhosen seems like an easy look to pull off…shorts and braces…ta-da!
emmas
”
Unfortunately we have a genuine German coming who has already promised to wear his lederhosen, brought over all the way from Germany. Damn...

Um…how about Germany..I mean, lederhosen seems like an easy look to pull off…shorts and braces…ta-da!

emmas

Unfortunately we have a genuine German coming who has already promised to wear his lederhosen, brought over all the way from Germany. Damn him! I even speak German with a half-decent accent, so could’ve carried it off. Back to the drawing board.

About

Londoner, thinking and writing far too much about far too many random things. Wannabe photo-/videographer of my life. More likely to be found propping up a bar somewhere.

I also write about football.

This mess is powered by Tumblr, on which there are many things I like. You can also ask me anything.

RSS | Archives | Random

Contact

Twitter

Tags

Type: text, photo, photoset, picture, video, audio, link, quote, chat, reblog, question, ask me anything
Style: ranting, random, happy, funny, cynicism, meme, review, rambling, list
Self: self reference, self portrait, self made, self mocking, self flattery, self confidence, introspection, gpoyw
People:
girlfriend, family, sister, parents, friends, relationships, ex, housemates
Happenings: drinking, work, party, bed talk, sleep, sex, travel, holiday
Culture: internet, music, food, twitter, films, books, comedy, tv, news,
Subjects: london, money, media, newspapers, drugs, celebs, politics,
Sport: sport, football, arsenal, rugby, athletics, gym, exercise
Random: dirty old man, swearing,
Meta: tumblr, tumbling about tumbling, tumblr crush, blogging, tumblr people