Showing posts with label braai at Miss M. Show all posts
Showing posts with label braai at Miss M. Show all posts

Tuesday, 17 June 2008

Sing When You're Winning

So, the weekend. It was a pretty good one, despite me initially not being in a weekend mood. The Friday feeling eluded me last week for some reason. Eyes went to visit G-Days in Chippenham, so on Friday night it was just Shoes, Scarf and I at home. We didn't really do much that's worth writing about. It was a quiet night and early to bed for a change - my, how old we're getting!

Saturday was good fun though. The three of us went to a braai at Miss M's house, and we were joined by the Queen of Melodrama, OJ and several other entertaining people, including Miss M's housemate, MopGirl, who is a very, um, interesting person! I personally thought she was hilarious - I mean, she did dance around the kitchen with a mop for most of the evening. Miss M thinks I might have scared her a bit though. This could have had something to do with Scarf, Miss M and I standing on chairs around the braai and BELTING out Hollaback Girl, among other songs. We took loudness to new levels, which for us is really pushing the envelope, as you'd be hard pressed to find three louder people in London as it is. At one point I gestured frantically to the gardens on either side of their little backyard, trying to convey my concern that the neighbours might soon protest. Miss M gestured back (talking was impossible due to the volume of music and enthusiastic singing) that she didn't know / didn't care - I could not tell by the shrug of her shoulders which it was - and we segued melodiously into a rendition of U and Ur Hand. QoM was a scream as usual - I don't see him for a while and I forget how much fun it is to hang out with him; then he appears in all his extremely camp glory and I wonder how any party has ever functioned without him!

Someone decided later on that it would be a great idea to play drunken football on the nearby pitch dark field. Let's just say that dutch courage + total darkness + full on tackling = bruises that remind you of your stupidity for several days to come. I am still being reminded everytime I bump my left arm, courtesy of Shoes' "no mercy because you're playing with the big boys now" tackling style. He is competitive when sober, when drunk he is a liability - or rather, I am a liability to his team, if you were to ask him.

On Sunday I spent the entire day studying for my Life in the UK test. This is the test that one must take when applying either for British citizenship or a settlement (permanent residence) visa. As my next visa is for settlement, I had to spend my day studying a 120 page book crammed full of useless facts, such as what percentage of Christians in the UK are Catholic, and where one must go if one needs legal advice. Ludicrous. All you need to know to live in the UK is how to sink 8 pints in a pub after work! Luckily, my 8 hours of poring over the tedious material paid off, and I completed the 24 question multiple choice test in 6 minutes.

I have now got confirmation that I can get my Schengen visa in time for our trip, so today has been spent researching accommodation for Mallorca. I can see myself on a beach with a Pina Colada in hand already.