Remember me?

I could blame it on the holiday. I could blame it on moving house and not sorting out my broadband yet. I could blame it on the boogie...as nonsensical as it sounds.

But, the fact of the matter is, I just haven't had the inclination to write anything. I've been as regular as the cast of Last of the Summer Wine on the Atkins diet, and that is a BAD thing. Sorry.

The last time I logged on to this site was mid August. A lifetime ago. So much has happened since, so here it is in a nutshell;

My housemates and I went to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. More accurately, we drove to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. The more observant amongst you may have worked out that said festival is held in the Scottish city of Edinburgh. In Scotland. Scotland is a long way from Bristol, but it was well worth it.

Edinburgh is one of the most beautiful cities I've been to, and quite possibly the best place on earth every August. If you like comedy (and lets face it, if you don't, you may as well say you don't like laughing, or generally being happy), then you'll LOVE The Fringe. I saw too many great shows to list them all here, but I can highly recommend musical double act Frisky and Mannish, (who had me in stitches with a rendition of Noel Coward's 'I've Been to a Marvellous Party' in the style of Lily Allen), anything uttered by Scottish comedian Phil Kay, (who made me cry...twice), and a show called 'Tim: Against All Odds', a wonderfully crafted comedy drama, that involved everyone called Tim being dragged up on stage at the end and generally being celebrated by every single member of the audience. Needless to say, when the actors found out that both myself and my housemate were called Tim, they got very excited indeed. Our flat has been known as 'The House of Tim' ever since.

On the way back from Edinburgh, we stopped off for a night out in Newcastle. And that's about as much as I can remember of that night, I'm afraid. What a city.

Since then, I've had a job interview which was sort of successful, in that I didn't get the actual job, but opportunities have arisen as a result of my being able to sit in front of two people in a suit, and talk about how great I am for 45 minutes.

On the subject of jobs, my great friend Claire started her new life as a ball-breaking lawyer extraordinaire this week, and very proud of her we all are. This also means that her and her husband, my other great friend Hywel, have moved just up the road to Cheltenham. This is great for me, but not so great for the people they've left behind in London. I imagine it as some sort of barren wasteland without them. A bit like the start of the Terminator films when its set in the future...all psychotic red-eyed robots, stamping on human skulls. I'm sure its just like that.

I am not one to share intimate details of my love life for fear of jinxing it, but suffice to say that recently it could be described as 'better'. So, that's good.

Oh, and last week my housemate (not Tim, the other one...keep up...) organised some leaving drinks, before taking the opportunity to live and work in London. At some point during that night someone must have spiked my pint of Guinness with several more, as it turned out that I became quite drunk. Now, this might have had an influence on me falling head first on to the pub's wooden floor, but I really doubt it. Anyway, being a man, it took me until this week to go to the doctor and get it checked out. He pressed my head a couple of times, seemed impressed that I wasn't knocked out by this amazingly acrobatic, high-speed headstand, and told me to take a couple of paracetamols and take it easy.

If I'd have thought, I could have blamed my lack of blogging on severe brain trauma. Bugger.