almost witty

It’s my first day in my proper office and my proper desk. And they’re throwing a party tonight! Alas not for me, but to celebrate some good results.

I think I’m going to like it here!

Today was the start of my new job. So befitting a new job in Manchester, work sent me to a corporate meeting in … Gateshead. Except the rail ticket said Newcastle. Which was a bit confusing.

Either way, it’s certainly a very dramatic city. In my short but very confusing taxi journey (complete with Indian taxi driver with a very sing-song accent), I was surrounded by huge towers holding up huge bridges alongside a wide gushing river. If it wasn’t for the grey skies and near-permanent drizzle, it would have been a fabulous sight.

What wasn’t so fabulous was witnessing a road-rage incident between two very angry drivers from the North East. Shouting various sweary insults in front of a tiny girl who was just watching them in sheer amazement.

So endeth my first day at my new job.

So I’m all moved in, surrounded by boxes and gradually trying to unpack.

But really, I couldn’t have chosen a better time to move in. My fellow new neighbours chose this weekend to set up the first social communal event - a barbecue. Thankfully the rain stayed away, and after a “Who’s brought the charcoals? Anyone got any cutlery?” moment, we all settled down to the essential part of getting to know each other.

My Dalek bottle-opener seemed to go down a storm, albeit marking me out immediately as a Doctor Who fan - something I was hoping to avoid revealing at such an early stage. But somehow, it seems to be a good thing to be a Doctor Who fan nowadays.

True to form (considering that most of my friends in London and Cardiff were gay), most of my new friendly neighbours were gay couples. Which should mean fun times ahead, albeit there’ll be more of those “this new friend of yours is lovely, friendly and gorgeous. Shame she’s a lesbian”-esque moments.

So yesterday was my first day in my new job and my new flat. Not quite surrounded by boxes, I was gratified to get a phone call from zuzula, who invited me out for a drink. And said she was staying at the Palace Hotel.

After rushing into the shower and out again (top tip: NEVER run around when you have very wet feet on a laminated floor) I found myself standing at the Metrolink station, waiting for the next tram and trying to find this mysterious Palace Hotel.

Fortunately (!), as the Metrolink trams seem to come once a millennium, I had plenty of time to try and figure out where the Palace Hotel was. A Google Maps search revealed it was somewhere on Oxford Road, but didn’t give me much detail beyond that. So I was fretting that I’d be forever lost wandering up and down Oxford Road, trying to find this tiny Palace Hotel.

My nervousness wasn’t helped when the tram eventually arrived, I got on and it went a few stops before it ran into a shedload of Manchester United fans. Just my luck, my first night in Manchester and I have to fight against a hoarde of football fans dressed in red. Still, I can now dismiss what my football-savvy friends had asserted about there being no Manchester United fans in Manchester.

So I get off at St. Peters’ Square, and stumble down Oxford Road checking every other doorway for the Palace Hotel. I wish someone at Google had told me to look up - it’s only seemingly the biggest hotel in Manchester. With a ridiculously huge interior, very very grand.

It’s also very disconcerting after a few more drinks, when I have to navigate the huge labyrinth that makes up the hotel. Ever seen The Shining, and that steadicam shot of the little boy cycling around the hotel? That’s exactly how I felt!

I didn’t even know there was a Welsh Blog Awards, and I didn’t even know I was in the nominations - and yet, somehow, you can theoretically vote for me as:

- Best Media Blog
- Best Specialist Blog
- Best Eclectic Blog
- Best Looking Blog (They have *got* to be kidding!!!)

Like Woody Allen, my funny days are probably behind me, but please feel free to vote for me or The Gospel According to Rhys. I’ll be sure to thank you in my acceptance speech.