Long time, no post

So, I've been away. It could have something to do with the impending inspection, maybe it's because I've had to sign the Official Secrets Act, or maybe I'm halfway towards getting a life in this shoddy little backwater. I guess I wouldn't go quite as far as that, but I do at least spend a lesser proportion of my time ironing my teenaged brother's underwear (there's no getting away from folding it, else it would just rot on the line).

I haven't completely salvaged a social life - I've mainled been hanging around the locals, with the locals - but I did manage to cram a fair bit into my bank holiday weekend. First, going to Haverhill's first Private View in a friend's shed. Then, I dined at the fantastic - and expensive - Fox on Friday. They've hoiked up their prices and their portions - so it was a whopping bill following a whopping fill. I'll bore you with the details: I had a sumptuous goat's cheese bruschetta starter and a fairly good steak, although it disappointed in comparison to the lamb sat on the plate opposite (my worst dining fear come true: dinner envy). The cheese board made up for it, as I knew it would.

On Saturday, I got down to Gillian's via Oxford Circus Top Shop, but managed to arrive without any Mossy fashion extras. Not so disappointing when I finally got to get a better look at them a day later. We went out in Camden to a bar that strived to be cool: deck chairs with rock stars (and an exceedingly large number with Junkie Doherty's face), mattresses in trellised private areas, Alice in Wonderland strolling around with her rodent and behatted companions and a 'saucy' Queen of Hearts right out of the Lock's market, including PVC cape and killer heels. It was nice, but rather too contrived and made me, for once, not feel I was missing out. I could not be bothered to get involved in that sort of game at the moment!

After dinner on Friday, I'd got a text from my sister saying the new niece was on the way. She finally arrived, a drawn out 30 hours later on Sunday morning. So I got over to Guildford, flowers and stuffed bunny in hand, to meet Nancy Frances (pictures sure to follow). She was a lovely little 7lb 5oz and slept almost entirely through my visit.

On Monday, I got back to Cambridge and checked out the city's only Japanese restaurant: decked out with Wagamamarian benches, but providing more authentic fare. The tsukune was great (and the waitress did her bit to add the air of Nippon by not understanding my order), the sushi as fresh as you could hope, but the yakisoba was plain old chow mein. I will be heading back, but hope not to get a pube in my bento next time.