Mahinda’s Little World

Okay, so I’ve not updated this for aaaages. It’s because I’ve had other stuff to do.

So, I suppose I’d best do a run-down of memorable events in the last couple of weeks…

SandBar

There’s Liz, grinning like the
madwoman that she is.
I was accused of trying to get
a shot of Alison’s cleavage.
Not without a better phone!

Not entirely sure why, but I went to SandBar on a Friday night with Alison and her mates. Actually, Pete, Rosy and I all went.

I remember now! Pete, Rosy and I went to watch Serenity, which I keep calling Serendipity. A write-up of which will feature at some point.

Anyway, lots of people were there, including CAOS Liz*, Charlotte** and Jennifer***.

* Liz used to be a hockey goalie, which makes her somewhat deranged. She’s a doctor now, which confirms this.

** Complete with mummy Charlotte, confusingly monikered Alison as well.

*** The youngest Pickering sister, and a complete flirt.

Alison gave me permission!

Had drinks, and ended up in ScuBar for more drinks, where we were (eventually) joined by Housemate Lynda and her friend Barbara, from Holland, who Pete pronounced The Quietest Dutch Girl Ever.

Headed home when we got kicked out. As you do. Think that that was the night that Pete and I stopped off at the Canadian Charcoal Pit for burger goodness on the way home.

Jo’s Party

A couple of Saturdays ago, I ended up going round to Jo’s place, just round the corner in West Didsbury.

I was a bit nervous about this one, as I really don’t know Jo all that well - I’d met her on a handful of occasions, always through Howell. I’d never met her housemates either.

Howell had, however, told me that Jo throws a rather good party, so I was quite looking forward to it. I always like meeting new people, anyway.

I pack two bottles of wine into an oh-so-classy Tesco’s bag and brave the cold for the 10-minute walk. I get to the house, to find balloons on the door and a non-working doorbell. I get ready to knock, and realise that the door is open. Okay. I gingerly open the door and step into the house, popping my head around the living room door and praying that there’d be someone there who recognised me.

There was. Torkjel, whom I’d met once or twice. The “who the hell are you?!” looks were replaced with indifference, and I ventured through to the kitchen in search of Jo.

The party featured lots of people, many of whom didn’t know each other either. I drank wine and had a good time.

I think I spent most of the night talking to Steph and Laura(?). Steph’s one of Jo’s housemates, a vascular scientist, and quite a character. I definitely hope to meet her again sometime. Laura’s an old mate of Steph’s, and (wo)manning a call centre while trying for the RAF, following her Aerospace Eng degree.

Howell turned up eventually, and fell asleep after a while. He does this.

Doesn’t count as she was asleep!

I’m very jealous of Jo’s house, which is lovely. A big old end-terrace, with a back yard leading into something of a secret garden - a little doorway, lined with foliage, that apparently leads into a communal garden with benches and stuff. I say “apparently” because it was dark and cold, so I didn’t fancy exploring. I really should have, though!

Other stuff of note included Julie being shocked that I wasn’t 34. Grrrr to Julie! I know she’s read some of this blog though, so I’ll be careful about what I say about her

I staggered home at something like 5am, possibly later - by that time, it was just Jo, Steph and Laura dancing to cheesy music with Mark (who lives on the next street) and some of his mates.

Definitely a good party.