Lifandi Lif Undir Hamri

We had our house Christ's Mass dinner on Wednesday evening, it consisted of Lamb for Duncan and I and fish ('fash') for Roz and Jo. All in all a lovely meal, ably cooked by Roz and Duncan, I washed up and Jo brought nothing to the table. I had a good long celebration of Festivus in the company of a bottle of rum, some ice and a lime.

I didn't sleep too well Wednesday night but dragged myself to work where I was promptly thrown out of the warm womb like office and into the cold harsh reality of the tent. No Facebook out there... Mind you, it was good crack, five men talking about men things, fighting, drinking and women. This only lasted until Lilja turned up half-way through the day, covered in make up like a two penny strumpet and reeking of cheap perfume. Not only did she ruin the man atmosphere, she cheated at cards during afternoon break. Thursday evening had been earmarked for a final night celebration and also Sindre's birthday bash. I decided to go, then decided not to go, then Jo and I got some shit of our chests that had been there all week, then I decided to go, then I said I was only staying for two drinks, then I went for a hotdog at midnight, then I said I'd only have one more drink, then I dragged Jo drunkenly through the snow at 2am. Good night. I was talking to Lilja for most of the evening, if you're wondering why I keep mentioning Lilja it's because she said she only reads this, but then stops if there's nothing in it about her, so I thought I'd keep mentioning her to see if she was still reading it.

I was awoken at 4.00am by my alarm, and dragged my sorry drunken, sicky pudding feeling self out of bed to go and meet Sindre and the taxi for the airport. The flight home was made dreadful by this massive Icelandic family sitting in all the seats around me, with their retardo son sitting in the same row as my seat. Their kids were screaming and fighting the whole way and Retardo the Magnificent kept jumping up and running about, kicking the seats in front of him and putting the tray up and down on the seat next to mine. I gave him some withering looks to make sure he knew I meant business.

The train journey from Stansted was little better, I had to change four times and finally got back home 12hrs after I had left the comfort of my nice warm bed. I was going to go out to Arcus' Christ's Mass party in Sheffield, but I was completely fucked from lack of sleep and had no real way of getting home that didn't involve an expensive taxi journey, so I decided to have a bath and listen to some of the twenty one CDs that were waiting for me on my return to the UK.