Month: November 2012


I’ve just had the most idyllic weekend in Hampshire with Klaus, in a converted 19th century Methodist chapel, which we rented via Hideaways.


It was really beautiful. We care for each other a lot, are similar in lots of ways, get along so easily. It was a breeze. There was a lot of dancing, embracing and thoughtful conversation.

That was an oasis of peace in the middle of a frantic work schedule. I’m back on the road now for several more days, so I think it is to my credit that I did a whole pile of financial paperwork and filing this evening. 1 Finance point.

I still have not had a chance to play Sims 3: Seasons, or even look at it.

Gloria is busy.

Sorry to be quiet, everyone. Work has gone crazy. I might be short of news for a few days.

This is my one night off and I am struggling with EA’s brutally illogical and protracted system for downloading and installing Sims 3: Seasons. The amount of times you have to log in, via the launcher, via the Origin software, via the Sims 3 website, then being told to log in yet again ‘for security reasons’. Come on, EA. There seriously is a limit to how much I want your premium content. This is why people do not take the extra step of registering their games because they have run out of patience.

I am going to get this software installed in time to go to bed, aren’t I.

Sound of Berlin

I scored a Dance point and a Friends point over the weekend. I was in Berlin and my friend B and I went to Tresor, the internationally-renowned techno club in a city full of techno clubs.

My friend said to me, ‘what is techno, anyway?’ and I pragmatically replied, ‘techno is any music that makes you go “techno-techno-techno-techno” whilst gurning and holding your arms in the air.’ Good enough description, right?

Tresor sounds like this:


I have no photos of the city for you mainly because I was not really awake during the day. On the Friday evening I broke up with JC for the 19th time, which specifically entailed me being dumped by email as I sat with B in my hotel room, drinking cocktails and gossiping about him. Then we put on our dancing trousers and went to Tresor where we jumped up and down for five hours, from about midnight until 5am, in the company of 1500 young Germans.

Tresor is a big old renovated power plant that has been converted into a very industrial clubbing space with multiple floors, corridors and opportunities to get lost. It is very dark and they do not skimp on the dry ice machines so when you are staggering around the club with your friend you have to hold hands like teenage girls because if you lose each other you will not find each other again. Everyone pours with sweat, there is no aircon and I am not sure you would want there to be. People smoke indoors, and not just cigarettes. It is amazing. It really took 20 years off me and I think off B as well.


The music is so loud that my ears are still ringing several days later and so persistent that now everything sounds like techno.

The next day we recovered and by about midnight we were ready to get back out there so we went to the much more relaxing but less exciting Spindler & Klatt, where they play pop and old school hip hop for the non-techno people because surprisingly there are up to 100 of these people in Berlin and obviously they need their own club as well.



It was an interesting weekend. JC and I broke up again, I think it is for real this time (I know, I always say that). It feels real.

It was as friendly a break-up as one could hope for and the impact was absorbed by an activity-filled weekend which I will tell you about later, so that’s good. The major consequence of the break up was that I lost my appetite and I am back down to 147 pounds which I am happy about and is a good place from which to start dieting again.

19 days.

It has been 19 days since my beloved and I last spoke. This isn’t looking good. If we were going to reconcile it should have happened by now.

Skinnyman: Love’s Gone From The Streets

Don’t get me wrong though, we’ve had some fun though, but that’s in the back of my mind.