As I await the immiment departure for dinner at Foveaux tonight, I look outside at the depressingly frigid weather, so dark and slightly sinister, engulfing the pedestrians into an intangible haze.
Then I get a facebook reminder on my phone. Maria tells me she misses my posts and it makes me feel quite guilty for slacking off. Then Tanya, my effervescent fact checker and fellow future departee from the bank (baby in the bun) looks at me from the counter facing right opposite me. She agrees. I’ve been ever so tardy on the blogosphere. I can only concur and start to rummage through the very limited media library I’m able to access from work to see if I can string something together in the next 26 minutes. Now it’s 25.
We took the above shots towards the end of our trip early this year and I’m quite chuffed that you can’t tell how badly butchered my hair got from a hairdressing session in Pattaya. Needless to say, whatever type of perm they gave me did not yield the loose waves I have been used to in past treatments and envisioned dramatisations. I felt so fobby with frizzled, dry, almost burnt hair. Thankfully, with all the product and careful tossling in the world, you can’t tell and four months on, it’s almost recovered.
nightmare memory aside, I’m excited. Tomorrow is my last day at work and I’ve been carefully putting together arrangements for my overseas trip which looks likely to include a detour to Vietnam for lots of wet marketing and sweets consumption. It’s the perfect working holiday, if you can really term it that. The prospects feel too fun to be work.
Before I race off, I want to do a quick shoutout to the two friends I’ve mentioned previously. My two loyal readers who always remind me they like what I’m doing even if I neglect to give them reason sometimes. One from Peru and the other from the other side of the room.
Maria and Tanya, the closest thing I have to a fan club. Love you.