Take This - Excitement in The Bubble Office!

I don't know if you realise this but you're living in an exciting time. Right now. Can you feel it?

What about this: Barack Hussein Obama II. Just think about it for a moment, bloody amazing isn't it... (you should be hearing applause in your ears now). It's this amazement that leads to overwhelming excitement, but it’s not his time, yet. So I'm not going to harp on about the United States of America and the fate of this super power being held in the hands of their first black President because it's in the dull bit now (the unconscious mind's clapping now sarcastically slows to a dribble). Because everything, every single thing waits for Christmas.

Now, this isn't going to be some hard sell on the excitement of Christmas, because once the whole Santa thing is realised at about 12, which nearly ruined my sense of trust and responsibility, it has its draw backs and the excitement wanes a little. You know, the frustrating gift buying for relatives you hardly know. Or going to spend quality time with the folks and passing at break neck speed past the quality part of the time and there you sit... awaiting a night sleeping in 'Your Bed' circa 1988. And then there’s sitting in a stagnant position between two people; one beaming with surprising intent brandishing a pack of Imperial Leather Soap with your name neatly written on the tag, and the other, offering yet another Quality Street. So there you sit moving a coffee cream around your mouth because all the toffee pennies have gone, and you've persauded yourself that you really want to see the Christmas special on television, which is slightly less special than when originally screened back in 1926 when John Logie Baird introduced it. No, for all the excitement that the twenty-fifth brings it also sticks a middle finger to excitement.

Nor am I talking about the economic situation and the excitement therein. Yes really, the excitement that comes through the desperation of an economic downturn - you've obviously never hit those lows. Just stop earning for a while and want. Want money and a job and then after you've been rejected, dismissed and unwanted you’ll feel dejected and mentally broken into teeny tiny bits to the point you may find yourself comfort eating the same repugnant CV's you've been sending out just before you get to the excitement. Then it comes, washing over you. Really, it's definitely worth the wait. Also, this seems to me to be a very exciting time to learn Economics, from the bottom up as it were.

No, this excitement is all over four blokes who will never feel that level of excitement... and they may soon become five blokes once more. Ladies and Ladies, I give you Take That. It’s rumoured Robbie may be coming back to join the boyband that sound tracked the 90’s which is still made up of Mark, Gary, Jason and the other one. They’ve been hitting the number one spot again and appearing everywhere in recent months and I wouldn’t mind so much but they’ve entered into the Marks and Spencer’s ad’s and therefore muscled in on the delicate and scantily clad forms of Ms. Lily Cole and Mrs. Noemie Makelele.

I hope they do reform to the five piece. Then shortly after Robbie will leave them and it will all end again with thousands of girls ringing the Samaritains but I'll be able to go a day without them playing on the bloody radio or cavorting on the TV, greeting me in Marks and Spencer but most importantly being lusted over by the girls in the office.

One of which is my boss. I dedicate this post to you.

The Concierge At The Grosvenor Took Me Out The Back...

This weekend was Vision Charity's premier evening in the calendar, an evening which aims to raise money to transform the lives of visually impaired children - The Vision Charity Ball. It is also an opportunity for the media industry professionals to gather together, get sloshed, out bid and generally have a thoroughly enjoyable evening without thinking about bandwidth, tapeless capabilities and the introduction of Red by thinking of the unfortunate darlings who's lives will be made that much better from being exposed to a Sensory Room. Fantastically we were able to raise enough for at least two of the aforementioned rooms from the evening's silent auction, lucky dip and the main auction where prizes varied from a Matisse to a Smart Car.

The menu boasted a delicious parcel of camembert and cranberries, a pesto crusted rack of lamb and the most alcoholic trifle I've ever binged on... imagine some quality Elmlea whipped and sparingly perched on top of a pint of brandy. Needless to say there wasn't a desert spoon which wasn't licked clean and barely an inch left on the dance floor once the intoxicated pudding had taken it's affect!

But the tipsy state of most didn't take the shine off the glamour. It was a fantastic way to kick off December; everyone looked lovely although before next year I must learn how to do up a bow tie, or get a clip on - I don't want to make a habit of disappearing out the back with Paulo, the Concierge at The Grosvenor.