Oh yes, it’s been quite a week.
This tale actually begins last Friday when myself and a few friends went for some loverly grub in Leeds (Raymond Blanc’s, which was great, if not a bit overly stylish for my callous demeanour). The idea was a few drinks in The Brewery Tap, which I’d highly recommend, then round to “our Ray’s” for some top-class nosh, then on to a range of other Leeds bars and pubs of which there are a gut-warming amount.
Sound simple, right?
While we were in the restaurant, getting pleasantly sozzled on wine (which I don’t drink as a rule. My first mistake of the evening), it started to snow. It was picturesque, watching the flakes fall outside the candle-lit window. Even a gruff old sod like myself got a little twinge of delight. Until the snow went from pleasant trickle to blizzard. In the hour or so we were in there, Leeds was hit with a chronic case of dandruff. We came out to find inches of the stuff underfoot, in the air and basically everywhere. Now seeing all that virgin snow was going to go two ways for me, with no grey area between. We turn around and stay warm in the restaurant until the emergency services rescue us…or all-out Snowball War.
Suffice to say, battle commenced. It was about 10 PM, Friday night, I was slightly merry with the old vino rouge, and being pelted by whistling balls of ice. What an absolute blast. Despite trudging from pub to pub, our feet swallowed by the snow, and the hour we had to wait in the freezing cold for a taxi, it was an utterly brilliant night. Even when the taxi driver refused to traverse the snowy roads and dropped us off two miles from where we needed to be, it was still great fun. traipsing across a couple of miles of snowy tundra at 3am seemed like a fantastic lark at the time. Until I tried to defrost myself when we got in…brrrrrrr.
Anyway, that was just the start of the week. Some of you may have heard about the Steampunk Doncaster festival which will be held in my home town in June this year (if only because I mentioned it a few weeks back). But what those loverly folks who’re organising have gone and done, aside from letting me do a signing of Greaveburn there, is named me their official “Man of words”. Which means I’m basically responsible for everything literary that goes down that weekend. EEK! It’s an absolute honour ot be bringing something back to the place I grew up, and something with such a positive message attached to it, but…EEK! I hope I do them proud.
In other news…I’m still applying for jobs (booooriiiing).
But I have an interview in a couple of weeks (woohoo!).
I’m nervous as hell as it’ll be the first interview I’ve had for quite a while, and I have to do a presentation, but I’ll be damned if I’m letting that get me down. Plough on! So feel free to cross all available appendages for me on the 13th of Feb, folks. I’ll need all the positive Chi, or whatever, I can get.
Thanks for reading!
(I promise a more interesting topic soon :D)
Oh…hold on…I forgot to mention…it’s my birthday today! All donations (be it book sales, cake, tea bags or whatever you fancy) to the Help A Starving Author fund is much appreciated ;D