Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

So, it's been rather a long wait for the tale of Himself's surprise birthday party... almost too long, if I'm honest, but the espionage and secretage alone warrants the recount, and thus I shall provide it. Plus, there was cake. Penguin cake. But we'll get to that when the time comes. As Himself was hitting the big 3-0, I took it upon myself to completely disregard his refusal to ever be the centre of attention. Thirty is a big one, not even taking into account the fact that he's lived through the last four and a half years with yours truly, and this feat required celebration. Or so Gabs decided, anyway. Now, I don't work in Soho. I don't know the difference between where the cool kids hang out and where is sooooo last week, so a little over a month before the big day I began to pick brains. I called his three (three!!!) offices and put a general "save the date" on the wire, while at the same time asking where would be a decent venue to cel...

I've always waxed lyrical about how ridiculous I thought it was that people would spend inordinate amounts of time digging up their elementary/junior high/high school classmates in the murky depths of social networking sites. My position was that if you aren't still in touch there's a reason for it, and why would you try to force a reconnection? I've fended off several requests of that nature in the last few years (and none too politely, I can tell you). That is, until a few months ago. A friend from junior high and I have reconnected on facebook. I know, I know, shock horror, I'm a hypocrite, etc. However, this was a funny one. I don't remember much about that time in my life. Most of my memories are patchy at best, remembering a certain event or a general feeling about how things were at the age of fourteen. Nothing too fascinating on the whole. My recollection of how things went with us back then is a smidge different than his. I remember that in fou...