'Tis the season to be jolly

Now, the more observant of my dear readers will notice that the posting petered out a little last week. Let's just say I was licking my wounds after the Battle of Belleville and leave it at that, discretion being the better part of valour and all. Anyway, after a week of hot baths and mooching around in my pyjamas watching Lost 2 - bar one night out with the infamous Marky D - the cavalry arrived this weekend to save me from myself. And not before time - there's only so much flannelette a boy can wear, after all. The first to come riding over the hill on Friday night were Petite Anglaise and Meg Le Blagueur. Nice food, lots of nice wine and flickering Christmassy candles at that old fave the Cannibale, plus Meg's - terrifying - demonstration of how NOT to fake an orgasm. Genius and very entertaining. Saturday night, it was down to the Rush bar to celebrate the lovely Miss FVE's birthday. Look - there she is!! Much drinking ensued and a fine time was had by all. I'm a bit fuzzy on the details but I remember having a discussion about how English men are, in fact, the world's greatest lovers and admiring a rather fine large furry bag with "LOVE" written on it. A bit of a late start on Sunday, just in time for a long overdue reunion with Captain J and Marieke over crêpes and cider in a little restaurant just round the corner. So there we have it: a lovely weekend that left me feeling all warm and fuzzy, reminded me that I do know some very fine people indeed and that - in combo with the musical genius of the Phil Spector Christmas album - has rekindled my Christmas spirit. I shall be tying tinsel round my head by the end of the week, mark my words.