We have got to stop meeting this way

Word of the day: bump.  I've reached that point in a new place where you start to bump into people you know.  It only took 2 and a half years (I mean who has that kind of time? apparently I do).  In part, it makes me happy (oh the irony that in less than two months I'm gone) and what's left irritates the hell out of me, that it took THAT long to start bumping into people you know.

The first bump is cheating and so I suppose is the fourth but I have to give credit where it's due and bumps 2 and 3 were genuinely unexpected - except bump 2 is someone off the telly, so techinically speaking I don't really know him nor him me which explains why he quickened his pace on realising there was a tail on him.  And to be fair bump 3 is a hairdresser I sought out.  So actually, the word for today is banal or sad that after 2 plus years the only people I bump into are people off the telly or stylists (whose place of work I decide to stalk).

The first 'bump' was a girl from my yoga school who was taking a yoga class she doesn't normally take that I usually go to (you following me so far) - so it was nice to see her - oh god, I am actually starting to bore myself here and honestly if I wanted a long boring story, I have my life.  The other person was the man who plays my husband in real life.  We were on the same train coming home from Toronto - that was just a nice surprise but of course, he's my husband not a random friend.  A friend.  Hmmmmn - how lovely will it feel when in London I start bumping into those again.

OK - enough of the maudlin self-pity for just a couple of minutes while I tell you who the famous person was.  Do you watch Departures?  Hosted by the luckiest Canadians in all of The Tundra?  you know?  Those two?  They travel all over the world, filming all their shits and giggles for the Outdoor Life Network.  If you don't get cable you won't know who I mean.  In this programme, these two buddies basically backpack around the world courtesy of Cogeco and Rogers. There is a sensible one who tries to offset his antiseptic common sense by sporting a pierced eyebrow and then there is the other one, the village idiot who you wouldn't leave your dog with for a weekend; the man child who could fuck up the tying of his shoe laces to the point where it would somewhere down the line cause a plane to crash or some such moronic happening.

As luck would have it, I bumped into the village idiot who was walking so fast I was having to run just to keep up in the hope he would grace his fan with a picture that I might post right here for your viewing pleasure but he was wearing earphones the size worn by a fighter pilot and there was no way he was going to hear the whinging voice of a cold Brit laden with Yoga paraphernalia.  I tried. Sorry.

That's when I got the idea to get my hair cut.  As compensation for failing you, I give you...my new haircut:

Obviously not, but this is far more interesting.  Cheerio dears.  I'm off to stand by the window.