It don't matter if you've been naughty or nice!

Here's to some wicked festive greetings and christmas advice to all my friends and followers...

I'm always on this:

Remember, a moment on the lips... a lifetime on the hips! So try not to do too much of this:

I hope your Christmas is filled with NONE of this:

And that it is filled with excessive amounts of this:

It's almost 2011. It's almost time to start fresh and new and rock this city!

BAM!

Another one bites the dust...

It has been a significant while since I bloggeled something worthwhile other than some crazy excitement about SNOW. (LOVE THE SNOW!!!!!)

So, here we go…

Figure 1. You Know Why!!!

The goldfish of the previous post turned out to win Goldfish Magazine’s Asshole of the Year 2010 award. What a chump. From texting me daily, hanging off my every word, seeing each other daily … it all kinda crumbled on one Friday night. I tarted myself up. Looking hotter than Maverick in Top Gun and he had tickets to that danger show! We went out, and what fun we were having. As the night drew to a close, and there had been much flirting, we decided the only thing to do was to hit up the gay bar in Clapham. A place less seedy than Risque but filled with beefy men on the prowl nonetheless. I walked in, and in true spamoni style, the men melted and I could hear ovaries pinging all the way back to the bathroom. Luckily, I had my housemate with who fended off the rather forward, tall, dashing, attractive and defined men who kept hitting on me. But no, I flapped my little fins and swam about after my goldfish. Who, by the way had no-one hit on him. (yet) So we continue dancing around and on the stage where the hotties were. All is going well, and I turn around and get distracted by a shiny bauble on the white Christmas tree, only to turn back and see my goldfish in the arms of a strapping Australian man. They are chatting rather too close for words. And this leaves me with a few choices:

1. Get crazy bitch on his skanky ass and throw-down like a bunny boiling kugirl and follow my crazy throw-down with a dramatic storming out of the establishment

2. Get my fighting nails on and punch both their skanky lights out

3. Remain dignified, strap on a smile with a twinkle in my eye and pretend like I don’t care

Well, only moments later – in complete irony to the song “Time of my life” blaring over the speakers, he kissed the Australian. There are no words to describe the sinking of my heart, the freeze frame of them snogging away illuminated by the glow of the Christmas tree to a rather fabulous song. Fail. So I continued to opt for choice 3 and only after I received a patronizing pat on the shoulder and a smile from him, did I decide that it was time to leave. After leaving in a dignified exit, I only find the bloody slimebag running after me trying to make plans for the next day and asking if I wanted to go home together… I’m sorry. What part of “you were just kissing OTHER people and thus will NO LONGER be kissing me” do you not get. Dumbass. I got one SMS from him the next day, completely ignoring the situation. That was the last I heard or saw of that fishy. Pity. I had a lot of hope in that one… But London is a big ocean, and i haven't even tapped into my A-game yet... I'm just testing the waters. Wait till i'm staging my own coup d'etat on the throne of the village!!

And, so now, we fast forward through a SANTA CONVENTION! Oh hell yeah. I got dressed up in a santa adult-babygrow and paraded my drunk-ass through London with thousands of other santas. We had everything from Lady Gaga Santa and 80s Madonna Santa through to fat santa, obese reindeer, pirate santas, elves and of course us… Nap-over Santas! Hehe.

London continues to be utterly spectacular and fabulous and I brim with happiness despite it's ups and downs and ego-denting and ego-building!

Figure 2. I'm snow happy right now!!!! :)

It is nearing the end of a hectic week. Many ups, a few downs, a few late nights of working. And today, the bloody data entry beat me again. I am incapable of entering data correctly. I cannot get anything to balance because i keep entering a number wrong somehwere... Clearly a 4 year BSc degree that cost exorbitant amounts of money has done me wonders… NOT. As I struggled not to burst into tears on the tube whilst the realization dawned that my entire future in accountancy hangs on being able to correctly enter data, I stepped out of the station to a gentle whirlwind of large snowflakes falling gently down through the golden glow of the street lights. I could not help but crack a smile and ended up beaming from ear-to-ear as I walked through the crisp air, as the snow fell thicker and thicker, beaming like a kid at a cupcake buffet much to the bemusement of the grumbling locals. Snow cures everything. And wine. I had snow. Now I’ve had wine. Double BAM!

It’s almost Christmas. I’m still not sure on my stance about Christmas. I suppose it is rather lovely isn’t it…

Well, I oscillate between two of three of the HJB hunt.

· House – Tick

· Job – Sometimes tick

· Boyfriend – Sometimes tick

BAM!