Drove to London from Ukraine in a couple of days. Quick stop in Holland and that was that. Nothing remarkable. Got to the apartment in Ealing, due to share with the Korean chap. Lasted 1 night. He refuses to clean after himself, and regards ALL food in the fridge as his, regardless of who bought it. He ate everything I brought to the house, and despite having the larger bedroom (over twice my rooms size), still had a load of his stuff in there. He was overbearing, and immediately started to try and boss me around. And scrounged all my cigarettes.
Fuck that. I drove to Macclesfield, and unloaded the car at Mallory Towers. Stayed for a couple of days and met up with another strange girl in my life. We went to the local craft-stuff market, and I found myself, by sheer fluke, parking the Landrover right next to my psychopathic paedophile ex-chef's van. I saw him in passing in the town centre, but he didn't clock me, being too busy grooming his new young protege.
However, when we walked back to the car, he was in his van. He spotted me, and started talking to his disciple, who was staring and laughing at me. He stopped laughing and looked a little surprised when I got into the Landrover.
Aaah the Landrover! When I returned to London a couple of days later, we took it for service and MoT. It was fucked - totally abused and neglected - no oil changes, no filter changes, front brakes down to the (cracked) disks. My boss played fuckwank, but accepted that what I had been telling him about the way the staff treated the car was true. Now they have really shot their bolt.
I went for a Thai with him on Portobello Road, which he really enjoyed, then took the train home, having explained why I cannot share with the Korean. He understood.
On return I immediately bought a little open-top sports car, an MGF. Silver with black hood, 70,000 miles and black leather interior. £850. Bargain. It runs like a dream and is fast enough to be fun. Clutch has started slipping, but at that price it's still a bargain.
As soon as I got home, I checked my e-mail, and received an invitation to Muscat, Oman. Buggeration, I had 3 days to play with the car (roof down in the cold sunshine) and then left. I had to leave it on the drive, and could have saved the money. Anyway what's done is done.
I flew to Oman via Abu Dhabi. First time in the Middle East. Sunshine, beaches, deserts and mountains. I acquired a nearly-new Harley Davidson and reacquainted myself with my love of motorbikes. I hadn't ridden since my time in South East Asia - UK weather and Ukraine road quality made me wary of having a bike, so I was 6 years out of the saddle. It has really fired me, and I aim to try South America on one within the next couple of years.
I also managed to obtain an all-over tan. I've always had a white stripe on my arse, so when I found the house had an un-overlooked roof terrace, it had to be done.
Had a month in Oman. Did what I had to do and came back. It was an interesting country and I would like to return. that may yet be possible - I will know in the next couple of weeks. The return included a 10-hour stopover at Abu Dhabi. I spent most of the time in the smoking room and met some very interesting people... including a Russian model, who was most impressed that I happened to be reading (I shit you not) a book of Russian poetry, in Russian. It had English translations, but I was only trying to learn the pronunciation of the words, not the meanings. It was given to me by my last Russian model's mother, around the time she was pushing me to marry her daughter.
She, by the way, is friendly with me again. We have had a little communication - she is currently in Prague, and aiming for Milan next month. I messaged her today - wishing her 'Merry Christmas' and telling her I missed her on her public profile. She responded positively on her public profile. So her friends know we are speaking again. I still do miss her very much, but do now think we'll meet again before long.
I didn't do the France trip - the boss wanted me to go, but still expected me to hang around waiting. He was spun out when I e-mailed him from Oman, but I needed to prove a point: I can find better things to do. He is currently in Ukraine with the Landrover, but will be driving it back - ha ha ha. If I haven't gone to Oman by his return, the 3rd week of January, I'll pop down to London to see him. He may have something for me to do which will pay me some money. Or maybe not...
So since my return a week ago, I've just wandered around the pubs, showing off my tan. Met up with the UK girl that I was once really into a couple of times - she's just texted me now, we're going to some form of society 'do' tomorrow night. Only because her car is knackered and she has to go there. Not sure whether I'm just chauffeuring or actually attending. Doesn't matter either way to me, so long as I know what to wear.
Been in my old pub a couple of times. I feel a little awkward, almost embarrassed to go in nowadays. It's still a nice place though. Last night the pub was dead, so I accompanied a friend to the Christmas Eve midnight mass at the local church. All the wording has become modern so it didn't appeal. My friend had had enough about half-way through, and I was bursting for the loo, so I followed him as he 'sneaked' out during the communion part. Tried to sneak out - the doors were locked and he made quite a noise rattling them, whilst I hid out of the congregation's sight on the staircase and giggled at his efforts. Eventually 2 regular church-goers came to his aid, and I scurried out when they had opened the doors.
Went to the pub by the church and ended up drinking rounds of shots. Christmas day was a little 'fragile'. Dinner at my brother's and home by the fire. Received a keyring that stores photographs, so loaded it up with pictures of my Russian model. Does that sound obsessive or stalker-ish? Don't care: I like to look through them - pix of us together, pix I took at home and when we were out, and modelling shots. She is beautiful and I still celebrate that. Obviously I'm not over her - I'm not so shallow as to switch her off overnight, and it will take a while for such intense feelings to diminish to the point where I can find a new mate. And no matter what, a part of me will always love her. Enough of that. it's now the end of Christmas Day, and I'm back at home with my parents. That makes a nice family time; my brother, sister and I are rarely all together.
And I get to walk the dog again.
