Today is our second anniversary. Two years ago today, on a Sunday, Paul and I sat in the Jubilee Gardens at Canary Wharf in the spring sunshine and realised we were made for each other. I was a mess, he was a rock, and it all worked out perfectly.

I'm not sure if we'll celebrate this anniversary again, because by the time it comes around next year we'll be married and we'll have a much more serious anniversary to observe - October 24th. To be honest we've never really celebrated it properly anyway. Last year it was also the day of my Fast Stream Assessment Centre so I was completely preoccupied with that, luckily it paid off of course. This year it just hasn't felt like a big deal really - we bought each other computer games as gifts but we aren't fussed about doing anything else.

Except I guess the reason for me posting here is because it is a big deal, two years. It's the longest relationship I've ever had and one which surpasses everything I ever imagined a long term relationship would be like. Every day I mentally pinch myself because I can't believe how lucky I am. I am so glad that I stopped chasing after all those unsuitable acronyms and settled down with a real man who was so much more than a witty pseudonym.

Oh there are so many answers to this question. Scott, my childminder's son, was my first crush at about age 7. James was my first big heartbreak when I was 14 - I cried non-stop for a week when he dumped me. But Anthony was a big milestone for me too - the first man I stayed with more than a few months, the first man I felt was my best friend as well as my boyfriend, and the first one that I felt that comfortable, easy sensation with, where you just get on with life and for the most part its happy and normal and not full of tension. I was 18 when we split up, and I didn't find that feeling again until I met my Paul.

I don't subscribe to this idea that there is 'true' love and then everything else is just pretend. I can look back on relationships now where I was so swept up in love, I thought my world was a volcano erupting. With hindsight the strength of feeling there was far less than with my fiance. But at the same time, it's still a kind of love, and no less worthy for being temporary or headstrong. Love isn't a commodity - you can give it out freely. I like to think that I give love to everyone who means something to me. Because I'm lucky in life, I get some back.

I thought the first day of spring was the 21st March actually.

I'm quite happy with it being spring. Winter seemed to drag on for particularly ages, and I generally prefer the more transitional seasons. I'm also so much enjoying it being so much lighter in the mornings - it makes such a difference when I actually get to see daylight either side of being in the office.

In other news - bought my first bridesmaid dress yesterday. Well not mine obviously, but technically it is as I paid for it. This wedding lark starts to feel a lot more real once you start paying out for things!

Erm, no. But I am wearing green today. And there must be a leprechaun looking over me because I just spilled an entire mug of coffee over my desk, keyboard, mouse, phone and post-it notes all soaked, but not a drop fell on my green shirt.

I should point out that, quite aside from it being St Patrick's Day, I am still alive.

What a week. Spent most of last weekend at Wembley watching some excellent snooker. Monday I spent the whole day in Parliament with a group of fellow new fast stream civil servants: watching the proceedings (and spotting carakins and strictlytrue hard at work), learning about how it all works, and meeting some interesting MPs including Lembit Opik who was entertaining but completely impossible to take seriously as a politician when all he wanted to do was come to my workplace and ride a Segway up and down the corridors.

Tuesday I watched Barack Obama's inauguration speech along with 20 of the aforementioned up and coming young fast streamers in the world of politics. It saddens me how cynical my generation of British people are. Our American counterparts were laughing and crying and talking about changing the world, while we sat on tables, sniggering at how earnest it all way and raising our eyebrows to each other. No, I don't believe Obama will save the world any more than Gordon Brown will, but I do think his presidency will be remarkable, and we in the UK won't stand any chance of something similar happening hear unless we change our attitudes to politics and policy.

Thursday I was back to work with an overflowing inbox and just a handful of crises. I am finding myself a bit frustrated at work recently, mostly because my main workstreams finished in December and no one is really sure who is doing what now. All the more senior people in my team left, and handed their work down to me instead of to someone on the same level, so I am struggling to keep my head above water a bit. Never mind though.

The most important thing by far that's happened this week however is that I chose and ordered my wedding dress! Ooh the adrenaline rush was something special. I won't post photos in case of Paul seeing them but I do have some which I'm happy to show off to interested parties! I have totally fallen in love with my dress and I now understand what all the bridal forums are going on about when they talk about finding 'the one'.

Still off sick and bored, but... I have done my tax return.  A whole 2 months before the deadline.  Such a strange feeling, this sense of actually having achieved something useful!

Next to phone up my credit card people and grovel at them...

What?  I should post more than once a month?  Meh, deal with it.

In the 30 days since I last posted I've mostly been ill.  What started out as a cough turned into bronchitis which turned into a chest infection which then got me carted off to Hillingdon Hospital yesterday for a chest x-ray to (hopefully) rule out pneumonia and establish whether I have broken any ribs - my doctor thinks this is what is causing the intense pain that has kept me off work for the last week.  That's all very dull though I realise.

In my convalescence I have been playing Fable II for hours, watching a lot of property redevelopment programmes that were clearly shot several months ago before the 'economic crisis', and recently doing a little bit of work on our wedding website.  You can have a look at it here - it's still very much a work in progress at the moment and I'm trying to decide whether to upgrade to a paid site and get lots of extra stuff and a customised domain name.  Once I am well (please please let this be soon!) I really need to get my skates on looking at wedding dresses, as that's the next big thing to do really, and I want to get the bridemaids' dresses in the January sales so really need to have some idea of what they'll be matching to.

Oh and we had our engagement party almost a month ago now - we managed to have a fantastic time despite my coughing.  Lots of photos on Facebook and on my Flickr site - this one is my favourite I think, although a little dark:

I have what my mother always describes as 'The Cough'.  This being because as a child I had this same hacking dry cough every Winter from about October to April.  These days it's not quite so prevalent, thank god, but for some reason it has raised its ugly head this week following the virus I had last week.

Pauly was lovely and picked me up Benylin on his way home from work last night, but it only stops the cough for about thirty seconds.  The rest of the time it's like a knife has lodged itself in my throat and needs to be choked up, repeatedly, through the application of violent coughing and retching.  The one saving grace is that I'm working from home today, so my workmates are spared the sound of a dying animal all day.  Just for one day mind.

*Cough cough cough*  It's soooooooo annooooying.  I'll stop ranting now I promise.

Some very exciting pics of the venue for you!

( Under the cut )

Eeeeeeeeek! I know I was supposed to do a long detailed post about all the wedding stuff so far, but I have to do a little squee post right now because...

We've chosen the venue and the date!

The venue is The Maynard, a hotel, bar and restaurant in Derbyshire. It's got a unique and very welcoming atmosphere, and is a great mix of traditional and modern, formal and informal. Paul and I loved it the minute we saw it.

The date is Saturday 24th October 2009 - for a beautiful autumnal wedding.

I am so, so excited!

Paul and I got back from Cornwall yesterday after a really lovely week's holiday.  I could go on for page after page about what a fantastic time we had, but the only news that really matters is that Paul asked me to marry him, and I said yes.  So we are engaged!  And I can't wait to become Mrs Lucy Stewart...

Oh, googling your own name every now and again is so worthwhile.  I just found a discussion thread from 18 months or so ago where someone I used to know mentioned me in the context of a discussion on the difficulties of meeting men.

I am also intrigued by kisobel ... because she doesn't seem extraordinary and yet men everywhere!  ... there aren't queues of men pining after me as there are with her.  How does she do it?

Ha ha ha.  I didn't realise my success with the opposite sex was a talking point.  I suppose I could take offence at 'doesn't seem extraordinary' but as far as I'm concerned it's the truth, and I don't buy into the idea that you have to be extraordinary to get on well in the world of dating.  They go on to talk about how if they knew how I did it, they'd mass-package it and make a billion pounds in the first six weeks.  Well, I know how I did it...  Maybe I am missing a trick here and could be making millions sharing my apparently unique insight?

I've really not been very up for posting on LJ recently.  I have a feeling this might be the start of a real change, rather than just a temporary lack of interest.  My life is moving on, I am growing up, writing things out doesn't bring me the relief and enjoyment it once did.  I guess I have reached a point of contentment.  I consider myself very lucky.

However, old habits are hard to break, and tomorrow is my journal's 5th birthday.  They were the five most enjoyable and most formative years of my life, and I'm so glad I chose to document them.  I'm not saying I'm going to stop posting, just that it might be less.  In the meantime, I will tell you how things are.

I've been 4 weeks in my new job.  It's hard work, pressurised and mentally draining, but I expected it to be and I'm starting to flourish now that the initial fear and nerves are leaving me.  I'm producing some output now, which is always good, and I feel like I'm more than earning my new and improved salary.  The commuting is still a drain, especially on the way home, but it's worth it because of what I'm coming home to.

The new flat is still lovely, and we have settled in nicely although the spare room is still wall to wall with junk.  Paul has taken responsibility for much of the domestic stuff, and I am eternally grateful because it allows me to chill out at the end of the day and not feel like I have no free time.  Once I get used to my new routine I'm hoping things will even out a bit.

We've booked a holiday for the end of August - we're going to Cornwall and have booked a cottage in Penzance for a week.  I'll be the first time we've had a full week's holiday together and I can't wait.  I'm not looking forward to driving all the way to Cornwall and back, but luckily Paul's mum has offered to lend us her car (she doesn't use it very often) so at least we can save the expense of a hire car (and we just have the expense of fuel!)

I can't think that there's much else to tell you really.  I'm happy.  I'm content.  I hope you are too.

I just want to establish that I'm still here, I haven't fallen off the face of the planet or anything.

I am just very very very very tired. 



Y

A

W

N

new job
big workload                                         +
1.5 hour commute each way                  +
new flat with many things still to sort out +
no money                                             +
social life                                              +
partner                                                  +
Impossible!                                           

Obviously the final thing on that list is the most important, so I am off to cuddle him now.

It has all been happening in the last couple of weeks.

Last Tuesday we got the keys to our fabulous new flat, which is every bit as amazing as we were hoping it would be.  The rooms are so much bigger than we remembered, and bright, clean, airy and beautifully finished.  The owner took unfurnished literally, as he was perfectly entitled to do, so the place had no curtains and we spent the first night on an airbed in the spare bedroom room (it having the smallest window).  I didn't mind a bit though because it means I get to choose my own curtains, so we picked up two pairs of beautiful cream floor to ceiling curtains for our two French windows in the Debenhams sale.

The next day the removal men came and moved all our furniture in.  That was the thing I was most worried about but they were fantastic - two exceptionally strong and hard-working Hungarians who were jokily insulted when Paul assumed they were Polish.  They were totally friendly and also pretty good looking which kept me happy while they carried box after box into the flat.  I did lots of pointing and directing and kept them supplied with Powerade - we'd been given two free crates of the stuff from Paul's charity football tournament a while back.  The whole experience was stress-free, and the flat still looked huge with all our stuff in it!

Instead of taking photos I've been a big geek and created the flat on The Sims 2.  This is pretty close to what it looks like with our furniture in (and with me sitting out on our balcony which hasn't happened yet because of the rain):

So yes, that's our new flat.  The spare room is empty of furniture but does have about a hundred boxes stored in it.  We can't unpack them until we've bought more bookshelves and a cupboard or two, and we can't buy those things until we have some more money because we are both completely broke after the moving expenses and having to pay nearly a month's double rent.  I start my new job on Monday (more on that later) and I will be counting the days til my first pay day and hoping I don't get into too much debt in the meantime.  If they manage to pay me at the end of July it will be fine, if I have to wait til the end of August it will all get very tight.

I've had this week off as unexpected holiday/unemployment so I really should have spent the time productively working on the flat, but I've been hit by a week-long wave of ennui so haven't really managed to do very much at all.  It's really struck me this week how much I've missed Paul, while he's been at work and I've not had my own work to distract me.  I've obviously got right out of the habit of being on my own - a habit that I had cultivated to a fine art a couple of years ago.  I don't think it's a bad thing though - just proof of the strength of my relationship with Paul.  We really are happier than we've ever been.

46 boxes filled... and I am really sick of packing.

I stole this from coldclimate.

The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed.  Here are mine - anything in bold I've read:


54!  I am chuffed with that.  Although I did do a degree in reading so it's no surprise really.

We had people coming round today to view our (old) flat, so this morning was a real cleaning frenzy, clearing all the surfaces of junk (almost all of which is Paul's, it has to be said), moving all the packed boxes into piles out of the way, and general hoovering, dusting and washing which I have been neglecting a bit recently.  We don't keep our flat nearly as clean as I'd like at the moment - I am planning serious regime change when we move into the beautiful new place.  Paul is going to hate me.

The couple who came round were nice, and we felt bad lying to them ('yes it's a nice flat'), although they asked us what the letting agent was like, and when we said 'erm' they explained that they've had nothing but hassle from them so far, so at least it's not just us.  I do feel very sorry for whoever moves in here and discovers the cockroach colony - yes they are still here and displaying all the resistance to extermination that cockroaches are so famous for.  I don't care any more, we're moving out in 11 days.

We spent the rest of the afternoon vacuum-packing things (the most fun you can have with a suction device, guaranteed) and playing on the Xbox, mostly Civilisation Revolutions (excellent as a stand-alone but nowhere near as good as Civ IV) and Lego Indiana Jones (great fun but the screen motion makes me dizzy for some reason!)  Then we watched a film, and a bit of football, and soon we'll be going to bed for a cuddle.

Tomorrow - more packing!  25 boxes and counting...

I am supposed to be getting ready to go and meet another Potential New Boss down in Westminster, but I realised that I haven't posted here for a week and that's just not cricket.  So here's what I've been up to, in order of, erm, remembering.

Paul and I went to Sheffield for the weekend, cuddled my mum's cat a lot, met up with the_beer_hunter for a pint, visited my nan, and mum and me did the Race For Life on Sunday morning which was good fun although much slower than last year when I had Zoe to keep urging me on.

I booked the removal men to come on 2nd July at 8am to move all our stuff to the new flat.  If anything falls through now I will be very pissed off.

I went on a work night out last night, drank three glasses of wine, and boy did I feel them this morning.  I hardly ever drink these days.  It's a shame really because it means that when I do drink my resistance to alcohol is minimal.  I will be a cheap date for the rest of my life.

I keep looking round our flat wondering how on earth we are going to turn all this junk into neatly packed boxes in just two weeks.

I must go and dry my hair now.