I have no words.

I am speechless. Bereft of words. Exhausted and ineloquent. I have been under an intense amount of work-related stress. Which I do not talk about on the internet.

I realised last night that the last time I can pinpoint feeling wholly well was sometime around my birthday. Oh the joys that stress brings. Joy and hairloss and a weakened immune system.

Suffice it to say that I'm currently unemployed.
I'm sure I will be employed soon enough, but in the mean time I will enjoy my redundancy payments for a few days at least.

Also! I am taking part in Dressember.

I think I was somewhat drunk when Amy suggested it on Twitter. We had missed "Frocktober" and ... it kind of grew from there.

So. For the 31 days of December I will be wearing skirts or dresses or ... anything that is not trousers.
There is one dress I adore which is a smidgeon too short and will need shortshorts to be worn underneath but aside from that, it will be all dresses, all the time.

Why? I have no earthly idea. BUT I AM DOING IT ANYWAY. There is little I like more than ridiculous challenges. You will probably see terrible grainy instagram photos every day as well. Because I also like to share my ridiculous challenges.

Pug Life

When moving house, a torturous affair, it behoves one to make one's own fun.

(It's been there since Sunday. They only just noticed. Hee!)

My head might explode, I'm so excited.

Dearest The Internet,

I have a fear. I am just the teeniest bit afraid that my head might explode (boom) because ... well ... everything is going right. For a change. My poor cynical cranium, It is unused to the pressure of such things.

Oh. Now that I think about it. this seems all terribly depressing. I did not intend it to be so! I simply mean that I'm unused to so MANY things going right ALL AT THE SAME TIME.


(boom)


(boom)

I am SO excited.

On top of all of this my social calendar is just bursting at the seams.

These next few weeks are a flurry of packing and moving and work functions and passport applications and birthday parties and oh just everything.

I don't know how I will handle it. But I'll try.

xoxo, Sarah-Rose

Pa Pa Paleo. My Dinosaur Diet

I am terrible when challenged. My competitive streak comes out and ... I find it hard to resist.
I have to prove I can do ... pretty much whatever it may be.

This time I am taking part in an office-wide diet challenge. Paleo.

One of my lovely coworkers has been eating Paleo with her rowing club for 5 weeks now and has convinced slightly less than two-handfuls of other coworkers to undertake the same challenge. It's not based on losing weight or gaining muscle or anything like that. It's just ... eating weird.

Perhaps weird is the wrong word.

According to that font of all knowledge, Wikipedia, Paelo is

known as the Paleolithic diet (abbreviated paleo diet or paleodiet), also popularly referred to as the caveman diet, Stone Age diet and hunter-gatherer diet, is a nutritional plan based on the presumed ancient diet of wild plants and animals that various human species habitually consumed during the Paleolithic era—a period of about 2.5 million years duration that ended around 10,000 years ago with the development of agriculture. In common usage, such terms as the "Paleolithic diet" also refer to the actual ancestral human diet.
Centered on commonly available modern foods, the "contemporary" Paleolithic diet consists mainly of grass-fed pasture raised meats, fish, vegetables, fruit, roots, and nuts, and excludes grains, legumes, dairy products, salt, refined sugar, and processed oils

Maybe it's a little weird.

Essentially it seems like a stricter version of the Atkins diet? Which would, normally, have turned me off the whole thing.
But in the weeks before and since the gauntlet was laid down I have found out that 3 different people-who-blog and 2 different people-I-actually-know have been secretly eating Paleo and loving it.

Even the original coworker, the coersive one*, the genesis of all of this is signing herself up. She is finishing her rowing 6 week challenge and then heading straight into the office challenge.

We gauge accomplishment not by losing weight or gaining muscle but on a points based system. Everybody starts the day with 30 points and then points are gained or lost by eating paleo food or not, by sleeping 8 hours, by exercising, by drinking water or alcohol, and by taking fish-oil capsules.

In essence, the main points are:
x No grains. This includes bread, rice, pasta, corn, oatmeal (also any gluten-free pseudo-grains)
x No sugar of any kind, real or artificial
x No dairy. This includes cheese, yogurt and milk (natural clarified butter is allowed for cooking)
x No legumes. This includes beans of all kinds, lentils and peanuts
x No preservatives, processed or packaged foods (as much as is practical - look for ones without sugar or soy or dairy)

I have even managed to convince Craig to go along with this hare-brained scheme. I don't remember HOW exactly I managed to do it. But I did. Perhaps with the promise of bacon and eggs for breakfast.

Yesterday I brought home a paleo recipe book in which I had flagged the recipes I thought sounded good. Miracle upon miracle, he liked them all too.

AND! Because this is so outside the realm of our usual fare this weekend I am going to get my organisation on and plan out the meals for the week and the food we need to buy and all that mishigas.
I can't wait.

I'll let you know how it goes!

I have to admit I am a little worried. Not so much about the refined sugar and the dairy, I've given up sugar already, and I don't eat much dairy to begin with, but the carbohydrates! I'll miss bread and pasta and rice.
Also the fake sugars - Craig and I drink unhealthy amounts of diet soda. I think cutting that out will be hardest of all. But probably be the best for us.
If it goes really well, I might even share some of the recipes.
Only time will tell.


* Actually, I blame the coworker who said he would totally waste [us] all. HE I MUST BEAT.

A confession​, an apology

When I was younger, much younger, and horrible, really horrible, I was in a kitschy store with my mother and at least one of my two sisters.
Somehow I knew that they had just bought me a miniature teddy bear for my birthday.
The miniature teddy bears were a thing at the time and I have always liked miniature things. No idea why, and I hope desperately that I don't become the kind of grown-ass woman who has a dollhouse*, but I always have.

I remember shoehorning into conversation that I didn't mind what [they] got my for my birthday, as long as it WAS NOT a miniature teddy bear.
I don't know why I said it** but it sickens me to this day. I was malicious for no good reason at all. I am ashamed that I ever acted that way*** and it kills me every time I remember. It really really hurts.
It is the first thing to fly out of my pandora's box of my idea of self.

I am sorry.

To whichever of my darling sisters this was: I am sorry.
To both of my darling sisters: I am sorry. This is just one event, and I'm sure you have your own memories of when I was so hateful. I am sorry.
To my darling parents: I am sorry. You didn't raise me this way, I don't think.

This may be why my family seems to find it difficult to choose presents for me. Because deep inside I have it in me to be deliberately, maliciously, embarassingly hurtful.

I am sorry.



* not that there's anything necessarily WRONG with this, it's just not how I see myself. Same with ladies who wear clothes featuring cartoon animals. I can't stomach it.

** I suspect it's tied up with the whole thing of being the eldest child in my family, and therefore the most "grown-up". A miniature teddybear was "babyish" and I was above such things. Like the one time I went to disneyland (1995) and ended up getting a CD of the Lion King soundtrack while my sisters got stuffed animals (bambi and thumper), I had wanted a stuffed animal too but at age 11 was expected to be older than such nonsense.

*** I am sure things like this happened more frequently but this one sticks in my mind. I'm writing this in an email at work, teary-eyed and ridiculous. I should be older than this nonsense.

When life is all a bit too much

Sometimes when life just seems a bit too too much? 
I buy hair dye and strange nail polish and spend Saturday night all alone just being quiet. Shhhh. It'd be silent here at Park Place except the heater is humming and my fingers are taptaptapping against this iPad.

I watched just the littlest bit of the Royal Wedding last night. It was on but silent and I was hanging out with a coworker. That was much much more fun than listening to the inane commentary. 

35 hours from now I will be climbing the stairs to my garret tattoo studio (it is attic-like but not wretched) for my new tattoo. I am ridiculously, goosebump-ily excited. 

Sometimes you just have to focus on the small things - feeling pretty, people who make you laugh, adding to my personal art gallery.

 

Agony and the Ecstasy (of dress shopping)

For the want of a dress my mind was lost ...

I think I made passing mention on this darling little site about how one of my very favourite people in the world is getting married. My adorable sister Charlotte.
It's in June. In June she will be turning 23 and she will becoming a wife. I'm so excited for her!
Her fiancé, G, is really rather lovely. He fits into our crazy family.

I'm also excited for me. Because I get to be a bridesmaid!
It's all very small and casual (much like Charlotte herself) but my sister Jayne, Charlotte's friend Kelly, and I all get to stand up there with her.
This means I get to buy a dress! During my shopping ban! A pretty pretty dress.

But! It turns out, I am very good at finding dresses for other people. For myself? I only find the unattainable.

Charlotte has asked that we dress like macarons. Well, not really.
She means in dresses the colour of macarons; turquoise, mint, lavender, blush, lemon, apricot. Lovely,

She told us this late last night. This morning I was exchanging emails with Jayne and within an hour? she had her dress.



I asked Twitter for help and shortly thereafter had found a dress that would be perfect for me. Only? it is kind of expensive*, and WORST OF ALL - they don't ship to New Zealand**.



It's tough being at the bottom of the world.

I've searched and searched and searched online but I can't find anything that I love even half as much. I can't find anything that I love even a little bit and that would suit.
It is making me doubt my newly won title of Queen of Internet Shopping***.


Here is where I have searched:
asos / topshop / j.crew / zara / outnet / anthropologie / ruby / superette / urban outfitters / barneys / nordstrom / shopbop / h&m / next / peacocks / dorothy perkins / new look / portmans / glassons / net-a-porter / forever 21 / macy's / bluefly / revolve / nastygal / selfridges / miss selfridges / max

I think I might have to go in to an ACTUAL store.


Here is what I am looking for:
sleeveless but not strapless or one-sleeved
chiffon or silk or some other floaty material
mid-thigh to knee length
mint green or lavender/lilac purple
SHIPS TO NEW ZEALAND.

It can't be that hard? can it? really?



Damn it, Macy's! You don't even ship to CANADA. They're ATTACHED to you.

At least I enjoy looking at pretty dresses online. There is always that. And I enjoy whining about the terrible terrible hardship of shopping.

EDIT: I found a dress!



Approved by the bride and everything.


* this isn't that much of a deal. I adore the dress in and of itself and I can see myself wearing it to work with a blazer.
** they do ship to Canada though. We have a cousin who lives there ... a possibility. But for the price?
*** bestowed upon me by a very thankful Jayne.

Our Weekend

I finished the 7km Round the Bays (walk) in 1hr 11 minutes, coming 5833 out of over 11000.





Craig & his office team came 2nd out of 7 teams in the 6 hour Mountain Biike Relay.

On Digital Books

I'm a reader.
I always have been* - my darling mother maintains it's because she read to me a lot when I was but a wee bairn** - and it baffles me when I encounter people who just DON'T read***. I can't think of anything better than spending the day with a good book. I always have one or two on the go - at the moment I'm reading I Never Knew That About London, Nerd Do Well, and The Swan Thieves - and it's gotten to the point where, unless the weather is truly foul, I refuse to watch movies or TV until after 5pm. Somehow I feel like a day watching TV is wasted while a day reading? most definitely not.

When Craig and I were in Pauanui and it rained every damn day (save one) he and his brothers would sit in the lounge and bemoan their boredom. I on the other hand, always had a book.
But they're not readers. And that's fine too! I don't believe that you HAVE to be a reader to have a well rounded life, I just think that it saves a lot of time trying to think of something to do.

I also love books.
I love having a heaving bookshelf and the rate at which I buy books? is frankly terrifying. I love choosing which edition of a book to buy based on the cover, I love the smell of second hand books, and I love dogeared corners and a lined spine.
One of the worst moments I've had was when we were packing up our flat in London and I had to decide which books to keep, which to ship home, and which to give away. Craig didn't understand how this process lead to me bawling on the floor, surrounded by piles upon piles of books, but I think he now gets that, to me at least, books are beloved****.

I was loath to use eBooks. I thought that nothing would replace paper and ink. I guess it still hasn't but, since buying my iPad and downloading the Kindle app on both the iPad and my iPhone, I'm coming around to the idea.
I find that I'm reading more than ever. Having the Kindle app on my iPhone means that I can hold my phone and read a few pages while I'm waiting in line at a shop, or if work happens to have a quiet moment, or if I'm at rehearsal and not due on stage for awhile. During the era of giant bags I always carried a book with me, but now that I've downsized my bag and carry my DSLR with me there is room for little more than a slim paperback.
But on my phone? I have 11 different books. Autobiographies, thrillers, classics, two memoirs about forensic anthropology, and a couple of other novels.
Oh and I love that I can read weighty tomes without having to worry about holding them up (or accidentally dropping them on my face). My arms remain noodle-y but I'm okay with that.

By far, though, my favourite thing about eBooks is footnotes.
Footnotes in a real life book make me feel anxious (crazy alert!). I see them at the bottom of the page and I scan the page of text to find where exactly that pesky little asterisk is***** trying my hardest not to read ahead. Once found I make a mental note of approximately where on the page it occurs and only THEN can I actually read the page in peace. So annoying. In digital books you don't notice the footnote until you're right up on it because they aren't REALLY footnotes, they are end notes. And you don't have to flick through the pages to get to them, you click on the asterisk or the number and the book jumps to the appropriate end note and once you've read it, you tap the asterisk/number again and it takes you right back to the page you were reading before the aside. Like magic. It's much less stressful.

So I guess I'm coming around to this whole digital book thing.
I doubt I'll ever make the leap to being completely book-free but then ... I used to think the same thing about CDs. Now I don't think I own a single one.

The world is wonderful place. But there is a lot of waiting around. I'm glad I will always have a book with me.




* though I do remember there being a time when we were FORCED to read for half an hour before bed. I'm so thankful my parents did that.
** nope. Don't know why I decided to use that phrase.
*** Craig isn't a reader. He does read if he likes a book (he recently read all of Danny Wallace's books for example, and he's read the Harry Potter series) but it's not his default activity.
**** I think we ended up spending about £60 to ship 4 packages of books to New Zealand.
***** I also find it slightly ironic that they bug me so much and yet I use them so often.

Just another manic Monday

asos black basque wedge heels

Sometimes it's a Monday & the weather is grey & you didn't sleep well & everything feels like it's going just a bit wrong.
Sometimes it's valentines day & your sweetheart decides to go rockclimbing instead.
Sometimes you leave your damn keys at home.

But then sometimes your valentine walks half an hour out of his way to drop his key off to you, he sends you lyrics to a romantic song*, you have healthy frozen food and wine at home so you don't have to cook, and you have pretty new shoes.

Then, suddenly life doesn't seem that annoying after all.



* Not like the time he told you that your song was Whole Lotta Rosie. He did not realise it was about how large this lovely Rosie was. And he was very embarrassed. So naturally, I bring it up a lot. So funny. He's adorable.

Hi there February!!

Well hi there February!

You are a surprise. I know you're always there on the heels of January but this year your arrival has felt swift. So swift. It could be because most of January passed in a sea of sand and sun and kisses. But probably more likely because I just wasn't paying much attention. Because of the sand and sun and, most of all, because of the kisses.

I'm looking forward to you this year, February. I am deep in rehearsals for Much Ado About Nothing, and both Craig and I are approaching life with a get-out-and-do-things attitude. With the cycling and the running and the little trips around the place. And! you hold in your midst Valentines Day. On a MONDAY of all days. But I forgive you for that. Next year it falls on a Tuesday (my least favourite of the days) and we may have to have words about that. But for 2011 I forgive you. I like Valentines Day. I must remember to remind Craig of this fact. He often forgets.

The only complaint is that I have one day free between now and 6 March. I know you are responsible for nothing after the 28th but! It's only day 1 of February and I have the next 28 days spread out ahead of me and they are ALL full. With work and oh so many rehearsals* and drink dates with friends and at least one play. So it's not like they're filled with hardship but ... I am tired thinking about it all.

This year people seem to be fasting for you, February. I don't see why. Perhaps for the alliteration. But I neither want nor really need to fast. I am not gluttonous. However I do plan to begin my post-Hawaii stop-spending regime. Perhaps my February Fast could be from my Credit Card? It is getting a little ridiculous, no not the bill just my ability to rattle off all 16 numbers from memory (23 if you count the expiry date and security code) so perhaps I will get a new card and hide it away. I managed it well in the months leading up to Hawaii and my purchase of Vlad the iPad. But I have fallen a little since then. Oops.

But hey, this is just a little letter. It is not a binding contract. I am simply telling you that, in your honour, I am going to try harder. I will probably fail but then, crucially, I will try again and hopefully fail better.

Most sincerely,
Sarah-Rose

My long suffering husband

I love this set of photos.

It was a long weekend and the weather outside was cold and grey and soporific*. So Craig and I curled up on the couch with new episodes of White Collar**. I then decided that I had to photograph it.
I think Craig was just happy I didn't make him change out of his trackpants.







* Naturally! It's the middle of Summer in Wellington.
** It's our new favourite show.

My newest obsession: Instagram

I have a new obsession.
It started just before Christmas (actually, I think it was Christmas morning) and it continues unabated. I have managed to convince only 4 people to start using it ... my darling Mother, one of my adorable sisters (Jayne), and two of my favourite friends (Kat and Chris). But! I am obsessed.

It was so much fun to post photos (when I managed to find a 3G signal) from the drive to Pauanui, from Pauanui itself, and on the way back home. I post things from around my home, self-portraits, and ... oh just WHATEVER I feel like.

So, if you have an iPhone, you should definitely try it out. And if you do? you should add me.

Keeping the Beasts at Bay

I have so many things to plan for at the moment. Bits and pieces building up in my head so much that I suspect soon they will start to push my hair. And I LIKE my hair.

My family makes light of my tendency to plan and over plan for everything. But! There's not so much stress, I find. They don't believe me.
Horrible people.

It's just ... there is SO much to fit in. So much I want to do.
Christmas plans for one. I may have my christmas shopping 90% done* but there is the eve, the morning, and the dinner, and the day after.

And then? The time between Christmas and the New Year. We have a Burke family reunion (of sorts) to attend, a friend visiting from Japan to see, and my darling Katrinka and her Dave visiting from snowy snow Edinburgh. We plan to drink a lot of wine, and I plan to convince her to cut her hair even shorted.

Don't even get me started on Hawaii.
I didn't plan at all, really, last time we went because I was pretty certain I would hate it. Of course, I loved it. So we're going back. Only this time there's so much more I want to see and do.

Yes, I want to do a lot of lying on the beach, swimming, and eating terrible/amazing food (The Magnum P.I. Burger! Coldstone Creamery! Yes please) but I also want to shop**, see lava, and go snorkelling with Manta Rays. These things need planning.
Because according to my frantic googling? Only the shopping and beaching can be done on Oahu.

So right now? I keep my sanity (mostly) intact? I'm starting with a to do list of things to do.
Lest my hair fall out.




* And I've only changed my mind about one of the presents so far. This is the benefit of buying presents that I wouldn't mind myself.
** I've even warned Craig about this. He needs warning before shopping. I mean, it might just be the way I shop, but I suspect that it's just him. Okay, maybe it's mainly me.

I met a baby ...

I met a baby this weekend.
I met a baby and there was no screaming, crying, or shuddering. From me or from little Riley.

He was curled against his mum, just a day or so old, snuffling contentedly. His mother looked exhausted (54 hours of labour. FIFTY-FOUR HOURS) and his father was positively beaming.

He is the first child born to anyone I actually know.
To people of my generation. People I see quite regularly and could call friends.
Not to family, not to distant school friends, not to the older or younger siblings of friends.

I was terrified when I heard they were having a baby. But they're so YOUNG, are they going to keep it? was my gut reaction. But seeing their little family? Didn't seem so odd.
Then, they are not wild ones. They have always been happier going to an early movie then heading home. They own a home, and a cat, and more than one car. They DIY. They have not travelled. They are not at all similar to me.
But seeing them as parents didn't scare me.

Is this growing up?

Either way. There is a lot more of the world I want to see before I take that path. A lot. One of the few on which there can be no turning back.

58 days to go ...

It was a fortnight ago that I spied them first. Hidden behind a table laden with goblin masks and a giant fake tarantula was a particularly red and green and gold display.
We were only halfway through October and Christmas decorations were on sale.

In America it seems that the popularity of Hallowe'en and Thanksgiving staves off the fat man in the red suit but down here at the bottom of the world?
Hallowe'en is advertised but not embraced, and we have no November holiday of note. Or at all. And so Christmas can start as early as the stores like.
It seems they decided on mid-October.

Don't get me wrong. I adore Christmas with a fervour unusual for someone of so non-religious a bent.

I do, however, enjoy the scent of pine, decorating the tree, spending a day with my family (though, as years pass and my Father's temperament changes, we have become increasingly insular) revolving around food and alcohol. But what I love most of all? is buying presents.

Not battling the neon-blind masses in the mall but I like thinking about the recipient and choosing just the right present. I suppose I prefer giving presents as opposed to buying presents.
I'm quite good at it too!

I think my trick is that I start thinking about christmas presents for my most immediate family members at the end of August - directly after the last of their birthdays. I keep a list in my diary, or on my phone, and I write ideas down.
I only start buying presents when I have to. But because I embrace the digital age in which we live, I do a great deal of my shopping online.

Shopping I started and finished earlier this week. Do you hate me?

I couldn't help myself.
The sun is out in Wellington today and being raised a southern hemisphere girl, the start of summer means that Christmas is coming. I knew it wasn't far off - on Monday I heard the first creaking cicada.

Now all I have to do is hope that they arrive on time, that I don't find anything more perfect, and that the recipient doesn't find out.
Such are the pitfalls of shopping early and online.

But it's okay! All I do is make sure that the presents I buy? I wouldn't mind so much owning for myself.

So there was a big earthquake in Christchurch ...

After the 7.1 earthquake in Christchurch on Saturday, and the subsequent devastation and aftershocks, the nightly news has been somewhat earthquake-preoccupied.
 
Sarah-Rose: Do we have an emergency kit?
Craig: We have some bottled water.
Sarah-Rose: but no canned food or anything?
Craig: Nah. Do you want to make an emergency kit?
Sarah-Rose: ... nah.
Craig: ...
Sarah-Rose: I want YOU to make an emergency kit.
 
Yes. I am a little worried about the impending apocalypse (there have been two small earthquakes in Wellington this afternoon) but not TOO worried. Obviously.
And Craig is lovely.

Something else I obsess about.

somerset crackers, cream cheese, and gherkins

I have an ... interesting relationship with food.
I like it well enough, and I don't think I would prefer it if we all ate sustenance tablets or anything, but I find it so tiresome.

Craig and I have a well worn folio of recipes that we make. Curries, stir-frys (stir-fries?), Italian food, steak. When we lived in London and he did most of the cooking (seeing as how he was home from work at 5:05pm and I wasn't home til near 7) we bought a cook book and he learned to cook more, and cook well. We are also very picky people, and our pickiness does not always line up*. It's ever so complicated but it works for us.

I tend to fixate on food. For a while all I would eat for breakfast was crumpets with marmite. For the next little while it was english muffins, and at the moment it is peanut butter on crackers, or toast. At the moment I would eat vindaloo three times a week if Craig wasn't there to roll his eyes and ask if maybe, just maybe, I could make something else on my nights to cook.

For a while all I craved for snack foods was hummus and pita bread. Then it was plain crackers. Now it is crackers with cream cheese and gherkins.

I'm a kind of like a pregnant lady with my strange strange food cravings, only without the little parasite.

I always have been like this. Fixating on flavours, or eating in order. I know it infuriates my family**. I get obsessed with a particular brand or flavour of say, museli bar, and eat them for months at a time. And then, all of a sudden, with no rhyme or reason, and usually when others could finally remember what damned museli bar it was that I ate, it would fade and I couldn't stomach them.

This post isn't going anywhere. Seriously. I just can't stop thinking about crackers with cream cheese and gherkins.


p.s. I took the Baron-Cohen Autism-Spectrum questionnaire. I scored just as highly as I suspected I would. What do you think I scored? What did you score?



* We do however both abhor tomatoes. We are a no tomatoes household. Yes, seriously, tomatoes. Ick.
** It is a huge joke in my family about how I hate having my foods touch on a plate. But seriously, it bothers me. A lot. Especially if it's something hot like, say, lasagne, and something cold like Salad. I would prefer a different plate for each.

An early memory ...

One of my earliest memories is of going to High School with one of my parents (I believe it was my father), they were teachers and I was off school/kindy/creche (no memory of my age) sick.

I mustn't have been very sick though because there I was, sitting at the front of the class at my father's desk, drawing. The gigantic students in their black woolen jumpers heckle me lightheartedly Are you our new teacher? Is she our new teacher, sir?

And I can remember very clearly feeling mortified, trying to ignore them, incandescent with embarrassment, and thinking furiously to myself Of COURSE I'm not. I'm OBVIOUSLY a small child. GOD.

Last night: Wellington Tweet Up

@McQuillanator (Laura), @sarahrose (Moi), & @MsConstantine (Kim)
Polaroid taken by @kathrynwilson24

I met people from the internet. A lot of people.
And they did not chop me up into little pieces and distribute me around the city.

There was a Wellington "TweetUp" at The Malthouse and I went along, arriving just before the name badges and sending Craig frantic messages trying to look busy as I tried to find someone I recognised (turns out, twitter icons are TINY and NOT USEFUL FOR IDENTIFICATION PURPOSES) until, finally, someone I knew approached me. And she had the name badges.

But oh, I met a lot of lovely people.
And I met a lot of the lovely people I have been following on Twitter for some time. That was probably the best part.