The cold is back, so I’m gulping the Venos and sucking Tunes, which now seem to come in a trendy little box rather than the sticky foil wrapper.

So last night was the first proper post-Christmas Party of the year at Tiger Tiger. Actually, there were three on the same night, but rather than try and squeeze in all of them, I opted for the dinner, which on the strength of who else was there turned out to be a very good job indeed.

Except I almost didn’t get in at all.

I got turned away by the bouncer for inappropriate footwear but it seems that that had more to do with the fact he was turning away someone else for the same reason rather than any irrational objection to my shoes, in spite of the fact they were nigh-on identical to the ones being sent back out into the rain. I loitered by the door getting wetter by the second until the other guy had gone and he could let me in. The door rules were almost as predictable as he was apologetic.

Kathryn and Maddie were already there, along with Gordon, Roger and a whole load of freelancers, and it wasn’t long before Mark and Ross turned up. All told there must have been 40-odd of us sat at two long tables, and on every seat there was a sweet-stuffed goodie bag. Very kid’s birthday. Kathryn spent the evening topping up my glass every time my head was turned, so in the end I forgot to bring the bag away with me. I also lost track of where my desert went half way through eating it as I stood up to let someone out for the loo and then lost track of where I’d been sitting.

I’m getting scatty in my old age.

Fortunately there’s a whole gallery of incriminating photos to remind us all of what we got up to, and one particularly shocking picture of a woman with 80s hair like Limahl that took a lot of effort to take. Maddie kept striking strategic poses so we could sneak a snap across her shoulder.

So all in all, a good evening. I cadged a lift back to the station in Roger’s car, which was kind of him, but still ended up getting home at almost one this morning thanks to general crapness. It was still raining, too, so the taxi queue was an unpleasant experience. Fortunately I had bumped into Paul A and friends on their way back from Cirque du Soleil so there was some company, although he was far more interested in staring goggle-eyed at the man across from us who was clearly getting very aroused talking to the woman beside him.

In the end he had to go to the loo (the man across the way) and came back to her some time later looking considerably more relaxed.

Such is the joy of late-night trains.

1. Good and bad
   I did 115 sit-ups in the gym this morning, which was probably just as well, as Wendy and I went to Marks and Spencer at...
   
   
2. Dogs
   I am the number one hit when you search for Catford Dogs on Google. I know this because someone told me on the way to...
   
   
3. Trojka
   I met up with the ladies tonight - Emilie Ems and Kathryn K - and we tubed up to Primrose Hill to celebrity spot...