Thursday, December 15, 2005

by the way

Cycling around on my new-old pushbike has become a daily affair. Suddenly everything is so much closer and quicker to get to – now I just have to get over my fear of roundabouts and cycling across the bridges. I’ve also realised that there is a certain fraternity amongst cyclists, we eye up one another whilst passing and smile, nod or wink in recognition of each other’s efforts.

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Chive flowers are so pretty when they’re in bloom, and when they’ve seeded they resemble hearts on stalks. Cutting off the heads to collect the seeds, I’ve fallen in love with their raspy paper-like texture, and the faint onion-garlicky smell.

I’ve also bought spring bulbs to plant after suffering a full-blown case of bulb-envy over the weekend. See, M persuaded me not to get any in November because ‘we’ll be moving before they come up’. The fool. Now I see the hyacinths in pots in other people’s houses and I get so jealous I want to pierce the bulbs and introduce root rot. But now I’ve got my own (at half-price too!), and I have to plant them now now now or they’ll never grow, and come spring I might fly into a rage and start eating them damned bulbs.

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Last night there was a Christmas drinks party for the current and future trainee solicitors of the firm I’ve signed my life away to.

Last night there were too many gin&tonics, and waaaay too many flaming sambucas. I hate that sticky sickly sweet thing. The only part I liked about it was holding the fire in my mouth. I’m a fire-eater! RAWWR!

Obviously, everyone there already is or is going to be a trainee solicitor. But I never expected those on the LPC now to be so cloistered. Perhaps I’m reading too much into things, but they seemed so insular and hidden away in that corner of the lounge never venturing out except to get drinks from the barman.

From their midst emerged an ex-schoolmate from Singapore who stopped me and asked ‘Are you from RJ?’ I was slightly stunned by the question, and after answering in the positive had to think really hard to match her face to my memories, and I finally realised who she was whilst in the toilet. But I can no longer remember her name. I’m sure I never knew her name whilst at school, and we only knew each other by sight, each of us navigating our own way and intersecting occasionally through the occurrence of mutual friends. She tried to tell me above the din of the music and drunken lawyers-to-be, but alas, it fell out my ears and mixed with the clinking of glasses and the calls for more tequila. I’m sure I’ll get to know her a lot better when I start my training contract.

But I digress.

Apart from those on the LPC, everyone else seemed to be mingling very well. Too well, I suppose, seeing as it was all this mingling that resulted in those flaming sambucas. And it was interesting that everyone got along, which bodes well for my future, and it felt like a confirmation of this nebulous thing called a training contract that has so far only seemed like a faraway concept. Which is nice, I suppose.