Meaningless, meaningless

Of course they'd not forgotten.  How dappy and insecure am I?

Just went to see Graham under the pretext of being a bit down about leaving.  Towards the end of our conversation he said, "What do you want us to do about presentations and stuff?  You wouldn't like being put on the spot with all the group there, would you?"

So, having rectified his misapprehension, I'm once again feeling all bouncy and happy.  Maybe one day I'll get some emotions that work properly. 

I'm feeling very down today.  My desk is stacked with my possessions, ready to be packed up in boxes and removed.  Despite the trials of PhD and the social ineptitude of physicists, I don't want to leave this place.

The rain and gloom outside probably isn't helping.  Yesterday was sunny and I came back from staying at Jon's, following 2 nights camping in a field in Bristol and chilling out with Clare, Pete, Dazza and lots of other juggling folk.  I virtually bounced into the office, so happy was I to see everyone.

Tonight is work leaving do -- Elly is coming, as well as a bloke I met at Yohann and Magda's party last week *blush* and all the physicists.  I'm sure it won't live up to the expectations I've built up in my head, because it's been building up for too long.  I am desperate to be in a good mood tonight.  I'm counting on Elly to get drunk with me and encourage silly behaviour.  She's very good at that.

What I also need to confess is bothering me is that I can see no signs that I will get a leaving present or even a card from the group.  When Dave, Owen and Dan left at the same time last year we had a big presentation with wine, and even when it's individuals there's always a colllection.  I grumbled about this to Yohann earlier and he pointed out that it's usually me who goes around with the card and the envelope for money, and suggested that I start my own.  It's galling that no one can be bothered when it's my turn.  And it's not that I'm materialistic, seriously -- I just want the acknowledgement that I've been here and formed relationships with these people and that they may be just the tiniest bit sad that I'm leaving.

OK, so this is obviously really, really bothering me.  I think I will go and see Graham and tell him pointedly that since I'm moving on Tuesday I will come in on Monday to say my final goodbyes to people, see if anything materializes by then.

1.  I'VE SUBMITTED MY THESIS!

2. I'VE FOUND A FLAT!

3. I CAN'T WIPE THE BIG STUPID GRIN OFF MY FACE. :-) 

(Thesis 200 pages, went in an hour and a half ago, so glad the bloody thing's done.  Flat is 2 bed in Sharrow, 8 years old, high ceilings, rocks big time.   Going to the pub (Marquis) in a bit if anyone isn't in Bristol and fancies joining me.)

I *will* come to Bristol in the week, even if it's just for overnight.  But the weather has to promise to be nice as my tent only has 1 layer.  Have fun until I see you!

(Oh btw, you the initiated are all invited to my parents' house to juggle fire/ otherwise have fun/ weep and say goodbye on Monday 26th.  Haven't cleared it with my parents yet but I'm sure they'll be fine.  If not, Clare and Pete's place ;-) .) 

Got sent last Friday's edition of the Sheffield Property Guide yesterday, so I've been perusing. 1/2 bed terraces seem to range from about £350 to £500+ pcm depending on the swankiness of the area and its proximity to Studentland.

After spending an hour looking at ads and flicking back and forth in the A-Z I decided that the best place to go looking for a house is indubitably Nether Edge. For a start, the name is fantastic. Also of import are the location (a mile or two south of the city, less than a mile from the workplace), the fact that my old schoolfriend lives there and that the prices are within my range. Winner!

Getting a bit nervous about going househunting, which is probably happening next Monday and Tuesday. I've never used an agency to find a house, and I'm not quite sure how to go about it, and how not to get fleeced in the process. Do I just turn up at one and say, "I want a house in Nether Edge - can you show me some?" or should I identify hopeful-looking properties then ring up this week and arrange to visit those specific ones? Or I could try the sheer luck approach, which Dean managed, and walk along the streets looking in the windows of rental property until a builder comes out of a house being refurbished and offers me the landlord's phone number.

It's a big, scary old world out there and I must admit I don't feel quite ready for it.

w00t! Not far off finishing now -- am up to Chapter 5 in my editing and 6 and 7 should be a doddle. Graham wants this draft on Wednesday or Thursday, then next week I should be able to add the finishing touches and submit. On International Talk Like A Pirate Day. In full piratical regalia. Yarr!

Lots of exciting stuff going on at the moment. It was our vicar's last Sunday yesterday so big churchy lunch with random food prepared by little old ladies (including my mum). He's been sent packing to Rushey Mead so that we can have someone visionary to lead us into the future at the City Academy (ptah!). It's my last Sunday next week. So I got a card presented to me too, along with a nice fat cheque because they couldn't think of a leaving present. Wikkid.

And then there was The Event of the Year™, which was delightfully unconventional and much more enjoyable than the
forced sociability of normal weddings. I joined the proceedings at the Town Hall Square just before 1 o'clock and was greeted with the sight of Alan and Uncle D all scrubbed up proper! Fantastic.

C+P turned up a few minutes later, Clare showing off her womanly curves and not looking man-like in the slightest. More like Sue Perkins in a dress, which is fine by me. ;-) Pete looked quite the gentleman, as did Matt. And Lizzy demonstrated that she possesses only one pair of shoes. Shooed into the registry office ceremony room thing, Clare told me to sit at the front next to her. Thought she just needed a bit of moral support until she reminded me I was a witness. Oops.

Had fun watching Pete blink back tears while Clare giggled. Don't think I've ever heard so many cheeky comments during a wedding ceremony.

At the meal afterwards I introduced Lizzy to the delights of Pimms and Lemonade, which, in a most un-Lizzy-like fashion she'd never had the pleasure of trying. She was hooked immediately. Found out that Clare's folks live in really dodgy but fun-sounding part of Sheffield that I've forgotten the name of. Threatened to become their next door neighbours.

Hotel bar later for attempted debauchery. Didn't really happen, everything was very civilised. Was fun sitting there with P+C in calf-length combats and T-shirts, knowing they'd just got married. Clurby had promised I could snog Dazza, just for the fun of it. Sadly, nowhere near enough alcohol had been consumed to cause unrepression even on my part. Did have a very nice spring roll in the chippy, though.

If only more weddings could be so laid-back!