Wednesday, 31 December 2008

HAPPY HOGMANAY AND ALL THAT CRAP . . .

12 hours to go . . .

. . . until 2009, of course. At least, it is in the UK. Obviously some of you will be waiting longer than that, others are on the verge of getting there already. Weird, right? Remember when the Millennium was approaching and people were predicting it would be the end of the world? All I could keep thinking was what time zone would the end of the world use as a basis . . .

Anyway, I'm predictably spending the last day of 2008 in my bed. Well, I have actually already got out of it to have a shower. Then I got back in bed. It's kinda cold. I might go out, I might be meeting up with a friend for lunch. I'm not too fussed either way. It would be great to see my friend as it's been a good few weeks, and I have this awesome gold metallic mini I got off the Mango outlet website that I am dying to wear (any excuse, right?) but if I DON'T have to traipse into the city centre it's not going to be the end of the world.

My can't-really-be-arsed vibes also extend towards tonight's activities. I couldn't actually be bothered to make any plans. It seems my friends have similar feelings. I have never been a fan of Hogmanay anyway, and could count on one hand the number of times I have officially went out and celebrated it. My last two New Years were low-key, but I enjoyed them more than most of the other years. Ironically, the person I spent my New Year's eve with two years ago and the person I spent my New Year's eve with last year are people who no longer appear to be my friends. Which isn't exactly going to help with my animosity towards THIS New Year.

I honestly just don't see the point of NY. I mean, I know the point of it in the context of the CALENDAR but . . . WHY do we celebrate it? Why is it so overpriced? It's basically just like going out on a Saturday night except having to pay extra money for the privilege of being squashed together like sardines in a packed pub, club, flat or street.

So I think my plan this year is to stay in and get drunk. If other people want to stay in and get drunk too, that's fine. This plan may change - I may be given a fabulous opportunity to do something else . . . but I doubt it somehow. I genuinely can't see myself getting that enthused about ANYTHING today.

But we'll see . . .

So . . . in case I'm not back later, I'll say "Happy New Year" now. Hope it's a good one. For all of us! :)

Tuesday, 30 December 2008

THE ONE WHERE I GET "INTERVIEWED". AND COUGH A LOT . . .

I'm not really feeling my best this morning. First of all, I was out with a couple of my good friends since 2pm yesterday (damned daytime drinking!) apparently attempting to drink my weight in rose wine. I think I almost succeeded. Once I got home last night, the comedown almost immediately hit and I spent a while worrying friends and family with phone calls where I sounded like I was on the verge of tears and random drunken comments from my sprawled out position on the bedroom floor.

It's only now that I've woken up (ridiculously early!), with my semblance of a cold returning with a vengeance (I've already been on the lemsip) and unable to get back to sleep that I realise just how depressed I've been feeling since Christmas. I'm okay when I'm with people but when I'm not . . . I guess it just hits me how alone I am. And how much I miss . . . well, the very person I shouldn't be missing. But I can't bloody help it, okay???? Especially when he couldn't even take the time to send me a remotely personalised text message at Christmas time - I got a generic impersonal one instead. Which made ME too angry to even respond. And bloody sad too.

But oh well. I should be used to the way of things by now, shouldn't I? Yet it never fails to surprise or wound me.

Anyway, last week I responded to Meghan's post on Blog Voyeur Turned Blogwhore for an "interview" of sorts. Basically, she emailed me five questions for me to answer on my blog. It's taken me nearly a week to get around to doing it (it kept slipping my mind) but I figure I may as well do it now. So here goes . . .

1.) If you had to choose between rose wine and sex for one year what would it be?

I've involuntarily chosen rose wine for pretty much the past year anyway and managed pretty well without sex, to be honest! But since I'm wanting to cut down on my drinking next year, I think I will choose the sex option. I could probably survive on other forms of alcohol for a year. Malibu and pineapple perhaps? Or perhaps I could become a beer convert? Hmm, perhaps not . . .

2) I warned Meghan I didn't really feel like I could post the second question here.

But the answer is "yes. repeatedly."

3.) Almost a year ago you took a break from blogging and considered leaving the bloggyworld; are you glad that you stayed? (for the record, I speak for all your readers when I say we are glad you did :) ) {Thanks Meghan! I honestly didn't pay her to say that!}

I AM glad I stayed, yeah. I am fully aware that a lot of people don't "get" blogging, and don't understand why I do it. But there are tons of things other people do that I don't understand too. I can't think of any examples right now but there are! The simple fact of the matter is, I LIKE blogging. Like I've said before, it is my form of therapy, and my way of venting my rage and getting my feelings off my chest. And, best of all, it's free!

4.) What's one thing that the people that read your blog would find surprising about you based on what they read.

I guess based on my angry rants, it might be surprising to know in real life that I'm actually pretty shy and find it quite hard to talk to people I don't know - unless inebriated. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I have that type of shyness that means I'm struggling for speech one second and then suddenly start babbling nonsense that probably makes people wish I would just go back to awkward silence again . . .

I'm also very bad at confrontation. I'd rather avoid the problem than face it head on.

5.) What's one thing you hope to accomplish in 2009, and what makes it different from any other year?

There's a lot I want to accomplish actually, not just one thing. I want to get healthy and lose some weight - I have definitely put weight on this past year and need to get my confidence (what little I had of it!) back. I also want to find a job I'm really happy in. Or, at the very least, MILDLY happy! Maybe start looking into property - it's probably about time I at least CONSIDERED being grown-up in some respects.

It MIGHT be nice to meet someone special too, but at the moment it isn't really a priority. My head is still fucked over the previous one . . .

As for what makes it different from other years . . . I am going to be thirty! Argh!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

So anyway, I'll follow Meghan's lead and say if anyone wants to be "interviewed", just let me know in the comments section along with your email address and I'll randomly think up five questions for you. It's actually quite good fun.

Okay, it's now time for me to try and go back to sleep, or at the very least cough a bit more and possibly have a cry. I'm still in THAT kind of mood unfortunately . . .

Sunday, 28 December 2008

10 REASONS WHY I DON'T FEEL LIKE I'M REALLY A "GROWN-UP" . . .

  • I am 29 but essentially live like a student (despite the fact me and all my flatmates work full-time)
  • I have never lived with a guy (unless you count the insane male Chinese flatmate who lived in the room next door for a bit and terrified me more than a little - I don't count him, surprisingly)
  • I am single and still (occasionally) randomly snog guys I barely know - usually wildly inappropriate ones
  • I'm not entirely sure what I want to do with my life
  • I still cry about the most ridiculous things
  • I have no savings. Well, I have fifty pounds in a savings account but I had nearly two grand more four years ago.
  • I spend a ridiculous amount of money a month on clothes, dvds, cds, books and socialising (hence the aforementioned problem with savings)
  • I can't cook for shit.
  • The thought of having kids still terrifies me (hell, I've never even had a pregnancy scare. Although, to be honest, that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Right???)
  • The longest relationship I ever had was less than 18 months.

Can anyone else identify??? (God, I hope so . . . )

NOT REALLY A POST, JUST PICTURES OF SHOES . . .

After my post of yesterday a couple of you wanted to know what shoes I actually ended up buying from The Website of Incredibly Cheap Shoes. Since I don't have the energy to post properly yet (I am totally coming down with something I think - how come it is nearly always a time I can't be off work OR a time when I'm ALREADY off work when I end up being sick???), I figured I may as well oblige.

So here you are - four pairs of shoes for under twenty pounds in total . . .








You know, they're nothing spectacular (with the exception of the gold ones) but seriously, I think they look worth far more than they cost. And that's the important thing I suppose . . .

Saturday, 27 December 2008

A "PRICELESS" TITLE . . .

So, as I've mentioned already, I've been doing my post-Christmas-sales shopping online because my already limited semblance of sanity would not stretch to me venturing into Glasgow city centre at this time of year. I'm not THAT much of a masochist and I suffer from excessive pavement rage (the pedestrian version of road rage) at the best of times without subjecting myself to the risk of possible jail time due to GBH charges when someone decides they are just RANDOMLY and UNEXPECTEDLY going to stop in front of me. Grrr.

Anyway, I picked up a couple of nice bargains on various websites then turned my attention to shoes. Like most girls, I love shoes. However, while I do admire pretty shoes, I cannot justify spending a massive amount of money on them. Manolos and Jimmy Choos??? The price charged for little bits of leather sickens me. I could buy practically an entire seasonal wardrobe for the price of one pair of those shoes. And the clothes would probablylast longer. I am NOTORIOUSLY hard on my shoes, possibly because I walk so much.

So I decided to venture onto the Priceless Shoes website to see if I could get a couple of pairs of nice, yet not expensive, boots. Priceless Shoes is a cheap shop at the best of times - it's the type of shoe shop I like because 1) it isn't intimidating and 2) they tend to have the PAIR of shoes out on the shelf, not just one half of the pair, so you can just pick up the ones you want and try them on. You can get in and out of there pretty quickly. Shoe shopping isn't one of my favourite past-times.

Anyway it turned out there was a sale on and, I swear to God, it was AMAZING! I actually selected a pair of knee-high boots, shoe boots, gold court shoes and a pair of metallic ballet pumps . . . FOR NINETEEN POUNDS! Usually you can't even get HALF a shoe for that price! So I decided I may as well go ahead and purchase them. So I started entering my details into it. And that's when I came across something that struck me as a little odd . . .

The bit where you had to enter your title? I started to put in "Miss" as usual . . . then I realised there was a slightly longer selection available than usual. I stared in disbelief at the options - "Baronness"? "Duke" and "Duchess"? "Colonel"? ""Lady" and "Lord"? "Viscount and Viscountess"?

I mean, I know royalty and the likes are occasionally really badly off and a bit scrooge-like, but are they seriously going to shop in Priceless Shoes??? And if they DID, would they actually want to admit their title.

I could just envision some member of the royal family walking around Buckingham Palace saying to the Queen "Why yes, they ARE lovely shoes, aren't they? ONLY A FIVER IN THE PRICELESS SHOES SALE, can you BELIEVE it???"

And while we're on the subject, why STOP at the titles available? Why wasn't there "Prince" or "Princess", "King" or "Queen"?

Maybe they would like the bargains on the website too . . .

SO . . .

. . . I popped by my old blog earlier on and realised, as I suspected, that I had started it on the 27th December. Since that was the point where I started blogging "properly", even if it wasn't on this CURRENT blog, I consider this therefore my bloggiversary. So there you go.

It's weird to think I've been doing this for a year now. Obviously, there have been points where I've been more active than not. Points where I've been on a couple of times a day, and points where I've not visited for a couple of days. Depending on my mood.

I can probably attribute a lot of things that have gone wrong in my life to me starting blogging.

But, on the other hand, there's a lot of things that have gone RIGHT in my life I can ALSO attribite to blogging.

One thing is for sure . . . I know I've met a lot of people I trust through the blogosphere. People I would never have met otherwise. And I can only feel grateful about that.

So it's Saturday, so it must be music day, right???

First up . . . my current favourite song as of yesterday. I hope to get to dance to it in the real world (and not just in my bedroom) at some point . . .



I can't embed the other two songs I want to embed which is, let's be frank, A FUCKING PAIN IN THE ARSE. But I'll post the links.

Firstly this is a song that I love the lyrics for, as my brother-in-law also agreed with yesterday as he insisted on playing for us on his Itouch. Little did he realise he was already preaching to the converted - i've loved this song for a few weeks now. I may have posted a link to it previously, but I don't care!!!

Here it is! http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=wgLEblqYmUQ&feature=related

And with this one, it isn't so much the song itself, but the video that gets to me. I feel like the video kinda contradicts the lyrics, but obviously this has to have been on purpose, right? I can't get it out of my head (although it's quite a few years old) because it seems to me the two of them have no reason NOT to be together. Opinions here anyone???

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=qrQ9N6V6qoc

(Sorry, for some reason the hyperlink function is acting up tonight!)

Friday, 26 December 2008

CHRISTMAS DAY IN PICTURES . . .

It's weird but no matter how much I enjoy Christmas Day, there's always this tiny element of sadness there. I guess because after the weeks of excitement, of anticipation, it is all over in day. But there you go . . .

Anyway, I thought I would sum up the day with some pics of the gifts I received and my family. Excited? I bet you are! ;)

The above card was courtesy of my sister and brother-in-law. It made me laugh anyway! Plus the kitten is damn adorable! (Also, it's weird but the bow looks three dimensional in the pic, doesn't it? Like it's just been stuck to the outside of the card? It's not though!)

An Urban Decay eyeshadow set (I've been coveting one of these for ages and my sis knew it!) and a Radley umbrella (I managed to leave my umbrella at the work xmas night out last weekend, so not only is this practical, it's damn pretty too!)

People know me too well. Not one but TWO Soap & Glory (my favourite toiletry range) sets AND some cocktail flavour bath goodies too!
Oh yes, and the alcohol??? (Is it possible someone is trying to tell me something?) A bottle of rose, a bottle of white and several small bottles of wine also! (Something tells me I'm going to be drunk for a significant part of my time off) Not to mention some items of clothing. The iron, by the way, was NOT a present. Just thought I'd point that out . . .
The most bling-est piggy bank in the world??? I think so anyway! Awesome, right? I love it.


I didn't even NEED new slippers (I have about five pairs) but these slipper boots are unbelievably soft and fluffy. I guess you can never have too many pairs . . .

A couple of dvds courtesy of my brother. I gave him a choice of things I wanted and he just picked two to buy me.

Someone's trying to make me fat . . .

After unwrapping THIS particular present, the conversation went something like this . . .
Me: Mum, you wrapped up a packet of spaghetti carbonara???
Mum: (confused) Yes of course! It IS you who likes it, right?
Me: Well, yeah but . . . YOU WRAPPED IT UP IN WRAPPING PAPER???
Mum: It's a present!
Brother: It could be worse. She gave me the inside cardboard part of a toilet roll!
Me: What????
Mum: Well I needed to put the tube of condensed milk in SOMETHING to make it easy to wrap.
Me: You gave him a tube of condensed milk as a present?
At that point, I kinda gave up.

And now for some pics from the day at my parent's house. They were all taken after dinner. Which, incidentally, was an equally random affair. No roast turkey and all the trimmings for us. We were served a buffet meal which featured, in no particular order:
  • bolognese
  • curry (with no meat in it)
  • mini sausage rolls
  • roast potatoes
  • chips
  • chicken legs
  • slices of roast beef
  • potato croquettes
  • white rice
  • pasta spirals
  • home-made individual steak pies
  • spicy onions

Don't get me wrong, it was delicious. Just one of the strangest Christmas meals I've ever had.

Anyhoo . . .

Here's my sis and her hubby competing in Mario and Sonic Olympic Games. Apparently my sister gets very competitive playing computer games . . .

Me and my mum, prior to the Spaghetti Carbonara conversation . . .

Me and the brother . . .
Getting my drink on (well, there was a whole bottle of rose wine up for grabs and I seemed to be the only person drinking it!)

My sis tries unsuccessfully to hide from the camera...

. . . but not for long! HA!!!

Later on, after my sis and her hubby had left for the in-laws family festivities, me, my parents, brother and granda sat around for a bit telling inappropriate jokes. Unfortunately half of the jokes weren't just inappropriate in terms of JOKES, they were just inappropriate in terms of the fact that there seemed to be a lot of mention of death. Which I was trying to keep the conversation away from due to the whole first-Christmas-without-my-Gran situation. Instead, I told the only jokes I could think of - my favourite blonde joke, and a few INCREDIBLY bad Michael Jackson jokes (along the lines of "Why did Michael Jackson place a call to Boyz II Men? He thought it was a delivery service." and things like that.)
Anyway, after that, I went back to my flat and spent the rest of the night browsing the online sales. I've picked myself up quite a few bargains and planning to check them out again today. Man, it is SOOO much easier than putting myself through the real life sales . . . which would DEFINITELY bring my pavement rage out in full force!

Hope you all had a good Christmas!!! :)




Thursday, 25 December 2008

IT'S CHRISTMAS TIME . . .

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

I've been awake since five a.m. Now, Christmas Day has always been the one day of the year I willingly wake up early. But today it was partly because I had already had way too much sleep after my passing-out incident last night. I started trying to go back to sleep around about half past midnight and it was just impossible. Not only was I no longer remotely tired, I just couldn't get comfortable and was tossing and turning. Also, my brain just wouldn't switch off.

Eventually when I DID fall asleep, I dreamt that I ran into one of my teenage crushes, who had been travelling (in the dream, I don't think he'd been travelling in REAL life, but I COULD be wrong) and we'd ended up falling in love. We didn't actually have sex in the space of the dream though. Which was weird because, as I said to one of my friends the other day, most of my dreams involving guys in the past year or so have involved pretty much just sex! It was weird to have one that didn't. I'm not sure if that means anything.

One thing's for sure though, despite the fact that it kinda sucks NOT to be with anyone at this time of year, I really am not ready to be in a relationship again. I think it was these kind of thoughts that were keeping me awake for so long in the middle of the night. This time last year, I was in what I thought was a happy relationship. At that time, it WAS. I don't think I'm imagining that, or looking at it with a rose-tinted view. It's a shame it didn't last, but more than anything, like I've said before, it's the fact he gave up being my friend that's the killer for me.

But anyway, I've done my best to move on. I've developed the odd crush here and there, although nothing particularly epic that made it worth trying to be more than that. In the past six weeks or so I've went from one extreme to the other in terms of my own experiences, by snogging first a guy six or seven years older than me . . . then ,more recently, a 21 year old.

Oops.

In a way, it's nice to be able to have the choice to do these things if I want. I have no idea who I might end up with next. But in other ways, I guess my behaviour, the fact I appear to be making the worst choices boy/men-wise of my life perhaps is covering up a truth I don't particularly want to think about.

But whatever. It's Christmas, a day of celebration! It's not even eight a.m yet (which means for some of you, it must still be Christmas Eve - hope you didn't waste yours like I did!) and the whole day is stretching out in front of me. The schedule will go something like this:

Think about actually getting out of my bed. Eventually do so. Perhaps then have a bath? That would be nice.

I'll have something to eat - I haven't actually eaten since I had a couple of slices of Dominos pizza supplied by my work at half twelve yesterday afternoon. I'm thinking something toast related would be good. French toast perhaps? Or mashed up hard boiled egg on toast. Or toast and pate. All good choices. (All three perhaps?)

Later in the morning I'll open the presents I have received from my friends. I'll try and make that last a bit as that will be me dried out present-wise until I go to my parents later (I'm alone in my flat right now - weirdly, I love being alone on Christmas morning.)

My dad (or possibly my brother) is coming to pick me up at 12:45ish to take me to my parent's house in Hamilton. This is where things will maybe be a bit odd as obviously it's my Granda's (and obviously our) first Christmas where my Gran won't be there. Last year she was clearly not very well and I remember wondering momentarily if she would be around for this one, but I honestly never really thought she wouldn't be. I always felt a little bit like she could possibly live forever. But there you go. I think my sister will get a bit emotional about it - she was a bit jittery the day we went to my Granda's to go through her jewelery, so I imagine this will be worse.

I've actually realised too that I haven't been back home all year - which is a bit odd given that my parents only live about ten miles away. I mean, I've SEEN my folks but I've just not went to Hamilton to see them. I always find it a bit odd being back home because even though I lived there for 23 years of my life, it's no longer really MY home if you know what I mean?

Anyway, alcohol will more than likely be had, we'll open our presents and have dinner. We rarely have the traditional dinner, sadly. Mainly probably because my mum doesn't like chicken or turkey. They'll take me back home later on in the evening and I'll spend the rest of my Christmas alone once again, watching whatever looks good on the telly. Possibly having another bath. I like my Christmas Day baths, could you tell?

So that's going to be my day in a nutshell. Hopefully we'll all have a great time!

Wednesday, 24 December 2008

WHAT A WASTE OF CHRISTMAS EVE . . .

In a way, it's good when wine is available in the office and no one else is drinking it.

In a way, it's also bad though. Because you end up more than a little tipsy. And going to the pub to drink further alcohol isn't the best of ideas.

So we finished work at half two and about six of us visited a pub. I got three drinks or thereabouts, headed home around about five . . . and woke up about half an hour ago, about twenty past eleven.

Yes, I passed out and missed a quarter of Christmas Eve!!!

And I LOVE this day - I am GUTTED I missed a big chunk of it. Especially since I already had to spend a chunk of it working!!!

Merry Christmas everyone! Have a good day when it comes. Especially if it's ALREADY Christmas Day where you are.

Okay, I now need to go wrap a couple of presents I forgot to wrap. Then try and go back to sleep. Which may be easier said than done considering I've already slept for six hours . . .

Tuesday, 23 December 2008

PERHAPS I SHOULDN'T BECOME A DJ . . .

Last night I learned I really DON'T have a face for radio. Or a VOICE for that matter . . .

I went to see what goes on at my friend's hospital radio show. He already has two sidekicks in the form of two of my other mates but I have demanding to see what is going on there for months (my badgering is fairly sporadic and usually influenced by alcohol) but finally I managed to pin down a time and place (and a lift there) and got there.

I didn't really say much. Funnily enough, although I generally am fairly good at general banter, the minute a microphone is nearby? I freeze. Perhaps it would be different if alcohol was involved, but I was stone cold sober. Eventually, to save face, I chalked my relative silence up to the fact that the microphone was too far away and I was too lazy to lean over. So they moved it in front of me. Then I realised it wasn't laziness that was the problem, it was sheer nerves. Despite the fact that my friend claimed no one was actually listening, the presence of the microphone made me shy!

I wouldn't mind going back, but as more of a watcher than a participant I think. It was funny to witness, it's just my own funniness dried up. Oh well . . . now you know for DEFINITE that I'm not always funny. I know you thought it was just me being modest . . . but it's true!!! ;)

Anyway, random question for you. Let's see if you know the answer . . .

Question: If you go to a pub quiz and discover the pub quiz apparently isn't on, what do you do???

Think carefully.

Okay. You decided???

If you answered "Get drunk, of course!" or anything along those lines, then you're my kinda person.

Two more sleeps until Christmas! WOOHOO!!! :)




I'm glad this isn't MY workplace . . .

Sunday, 21 December 2008

A SONG WHICH SUMS ME UP . . .

Well, ONE of the songs. The other will come shortly.




What song sums YOU up???

MEME-ING IT UP . . .

Since I'm a bit dry on inspiration at the moment (mildly hungover, tired and all that) I saw this meme mentioned on 20something Bloggers and figured I may as well give it a try . . .

LAYER ONE:
Name: Paula
Birthdate: October 4th, 1979
Birthplace: Bellshill, Scotland
Current location: Glasgow, Scotland
Eye color: Green
Hair color: Unnaturally blonde (naturally medium brown)
Height: 5'3"
Righty or lefty: righty
Zodiac sign: Libra

LAYER TWO:
Your heritage: Scottish. Possibly with a hint of Irish.
The shoes you wore today: None. Because I haven't left the house all day. I haven't even got dressed!
Your weakness: Chocolte and rose wine
Your fears: Many. Mainly death (my own and others), of losing my friends, and I am a little scared of puking too!
Your perfect pizza: Lots of cheese and veggie toppings. Namely onion, mushroom and green pepper.
Goal you’d like to achieve: Getting a book published one day.

LAYER THREE:
Your most overused phrase on AIM: I don't really use this, but it would probably be something like "drunk again!"
Your first waking thoughts: I can't wait for it to be bedtime. (Yes, I know, I'm wishing my life away)
Your best physical feature: Eyes
Your most missed memory: Just generally being at uni and having fun

LAYER FOUR:
Pepsi or Coke: Full fat Coke or Diet Pepsi
McDonald’s or Burger King: McDonalds all the way!
Single or group dates: I'm not very good at dating (hence the single-ness)
Adidas or Nike: I don't really DO sportswear...
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Neither. Yuck.
Chocolate or vanilla: In terms of flavouring, definitely vanilla. I love chocolate but NOT chocolate flavoured things. Except for alcoholic chocolate milkshakes from Vodka Wodka in Ashton Lane. Yum...
Cappuccino or coffee: I don't like coffee in any shape or form.

LAYER FIVE:
Smoke: Nope.
Cuss: Of course I fucking don't!!! I mean, er, YES!
Sing: Sometimes. Sometimes I sound good, sometimes I don't. In the bathroom I generally sound good. Think it's the acoustics. I once entered a talent show on holiday (was FORCED to by my parents) and came first. I WAS the only person in my age group though . . .
Take a shower everyday: Not always I'm afraid. But more often than not, yeah. Although I prefer baths.
Do you think you’ve been in love: I've THOUGHT I was at the time once or twice but looking back, I doubt I really was.
Want to go to college: Been there, done that!
Liked high school: Not particularly.
Want to get married: I'm really not sure.
Believe in yourself: It depends on the situation, I guess.
Get motion sickness: When reading, yes!
Think you’re attractive: Sometimes.
Think you’re a health freak: Not remotely!
Get along with your parent(s): Yup!
Like thunderstorms: From the comfort of my own home!
Play an instrument: Not anymore. But at one point I played piano, violin and the (slightly common) recorder!

LAYER SIX:
In the past month…
Drank alcohol: often
Smoked: not a chance
Done a drug: nope
Made out: erm . . . yes. Less than 24 hours ago in fact.
Gone on a date: Nope. :(
Gone to the mall: Nope. I've done all my christmas shopping online.
Eaten an entire box of Oreos: Nope.
Eaten sushi: No. I nearly bought a box of it out of Boots the Chemist last weekend but I didn't like the selection.
Been on stage: No. Not that I recall anyway . . .
Been dumped: Technically, you have to be in a relationship to be dumped, right?
Gone skating: No.I don't do skating of any sort since my sis fell and her friend ran over her fingers with ice skates. Ouch - it looked painful. (Don't drink and skate, is the motto . . . )
Made homemade cookies: Yes, actually! My Dairy Milk Caramel cookies. Yum.
Gone skinny dipping: Nope. It's a bit cold for that right now!
Dyed your hair: Yup, I did highlights the other night.
Stolen Anything: Not this month, no!

LAYER SEVEN:
Ever…
Played a game that required removal of clothing: Surprisingly I don't think I have. Unless sex is a game???
Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: Never. Hahahahaha.
Been caught “doing something”: Nah, I don't put myself in the situation where I could be caught. See my post the other day about why I prefer "doing something" in the logical place . . . the bed.
Been called a tease: Possibly.
Gotten beaten up: My sister and I used to beat each other up so yeah.
Shoplifted: Nah. Too worried I would get caught!
Changed who you were to fit in: Yes, probably more often than I care to remember. In the past though. I like to think I don't do that anymore.

LAYER EIGHT:
Age you hope to be married: Since I don't know if I WANT to be marred, I can't really say!
Numbers and names of children: If I was PLANNING to have kids (which I don't!) probably two. I'd prefer them both to be girls (I don't understand boys) and the names? Man, they change constantly. Like I said in a previous post, the main reason I would probably want kids to name them!
Describe your dream wedding: Probably to do what my sis did when she got married and go away to some exotic location. She did Mauritius so to be a BIT different I'd maybe choose The Seychelles. Or Hawaii. Somewhere pretty.
How do you want to die: Hopefully without any pain.
Where you want to go to college: I already went!
What do you want to be when you grow up: A writer.
What country would you most like to visit: Italy

LAYER NINE:
Number of drugs taken illegally: Hash, once or twice. That's it.
Number of people I could trust with my life: Probably about 5.
Number of CDs that I own: About 150?
Number of piercings: One in each ear, and my nose. I don't know if that counts as two or three...
Number of tattoos: None
Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: Several times. Mainly the local paper from my hometown cos I won a lot of competitions as a kid.
Number of scars on my body: Only one. On my head running into my hairline. I walked into a parking barrier when I was eight. I needed four stitches. It hurt. :(
Number of things in my past that I regret: Why would I keep count of this??? I prefer not to dwell too much on the many things I regret.

Anyway, feel free to do this if you're at a loose end too. It's sort of fun!

Saturday, 20 December 2008

SCOTTISH AND PROUD OF IT . . .

So you have probably noticed that often on a Saturday I end up with a music-themed post. Well, I decided this time to embrace my Scottish-nest (I mean "ness") and post some of my favourite tracks by Scottish artists. Hope you enjoy. And feel free to share your favourite songs by Scottish artists.

First up, I am going to give you this song, courtesy of Del Amitri. A grown man in a buggy is kinda fucked up but it is a great song as far as I'm concerned . . .



Next video? Hmm . . . Possibly my favourite Scottish female solo artist, KT Tunstall. And my favourite track by her . . .



I love this song too, by Amy MacDonald. And the video features my on-off love itself . . . Glasgow!!!



Next? Undoubtedly my favourite Scottish band and a band I was lucky enough to see in concert last year. Travis and my favourite track from them . . .



Wet Wet Wet might be guilty of inflicting the worst song from a film EVER on us "Love Is All Around" (which incidentally was my least favourite thing about one of my favourite films in the world!) but at least it wasn't their own song. Clydebank's finest actually had a couple of good songs, at least they seemed good to me when I was a kid. This was my fave. (And still is . . . )



Now The Fratellis. Not QUITE as yummy as the RESTAURANT Fratellis . . . but this is a fabulous song, and a great video too . . .



And last up . . . well, this song is basically all ABOUT Scotland. So how can it even be bad??? ;)

Friday, 19 December 2008

THE TALE OF THE MISCHIEVOUS LITTLE ELF . . .

( . . . that would be moi, by the way!)

Sometimes you have to make your own entertainment, right? Like today when my department were holding a Christmas Stocking competition. The rules? You decorate a stocking, and it gets judged. Simple enough.

I didn't take part. Well, not AT FIRST anyway . . .

After all the stockings had been hung up against the window "with care", the judging commenced. A woman from another department came along and took pictures of the stockings, and went away so she could appraise them. At that point, egged on by the others, I decided to enter the contest a little later than planned. Can you guess what one is mine???

(Clue: it would be the blue BEDSOCK* on the right of the picture)

Anyway, you could tell when the managers came back from their meeting due to the howls of laughter from outside the room as they clocked the sock. "Who does that belong to?" shrieked one of them. When she worked out it was me, she reprimanded me for not at least DECORATING said sock . . . sorry, STOCKING!!!

I decided at that point perhaps I should take the competition a little more seriously . . .

. . . Okay, well not all THAT seriously, to be honest. A tiny bit of tinsel stolen from around my PC and a post-it note with "Merry Christmas" written on it doesn't really provide much competition with the others next to it. Or does it . . .?

When the woman came back to announce the winners, she did make special mention to my entry . . . basically to say how crap it was. Frankly, I was hurt. After the winners were announced, I stormed up to the window and ripped my entry down, pulling the tinsel and post-it off and flinging them into the bin dramatically. "It's a fix," I announced as I threw the sock back in my desk drawer with its matched pair. "An artist is never appreciated in her own time!"

I just hope people didn't think I was being serious . . .

Oh yes and we did our Secret Santa today. With one of the girls dressed in an inflatable Santa suit. Absolutely classic! I got a lovely present - luckily I'm really easy to buy for and was given a gorgeous necklace from Next. Another person took the whole ten pound limit very seriously and gave their giftee . . . a ten pound note in an envelope.**

I know Secret Santa is always a bit of a hit-or-miss affair -and people probably deep down WOULD prefer the money - but that sort of takes the fun out of it . . .

*You're wondering why I had bedsocks in the office, right? About a year ago, I stepped in a massive puddle on the way to work and got my feet ridiculously wet. All day long I rued the fact I had no thick fluffy socks to warm my feet up. So I made sure I always did from then on . . .

**I felt a bit sorry for the guy who got the ten pounds as he had ran into town on his lunchbreak to get HIS person a present - and did a pretty damn good job of it . . . even though he was still wrapping it (badly!) ten seconds before "Santa" started giving out the presents!

Thursday, 18 December 2008

IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE . . . GROUNDHOG DAY . . .

The day did not start off well.

I was getting a ride to work today. This doesn't happen often, sadly, but when it does, it generally is a good thing. I can wake up a bit later than usual, take my time getting ready . . . it's nice. A fairly relaxing start to the day.

I woke up at 7.29 am.

My ride was arriving at 7.35 am.

This, obviously, did not bode well.

If you have a mental image of me hopping around with tights on my bottom half with nothing on top while I frantically search for a bra, you'd be fairly accurate. (And probably more than a little freaked out). Tripping over my shoes, practically poking myself in my eye in an effort to stick at least one contact lens in there in a hurry so I could actually see what I was doing. Trying to grab all my make-up and stuff it in my bag as I clearly wasn't going to have a chance to put any on before I left.

Cue to us running outside, me falling out of my shoes (I hadn't had time to buckle them) to find it absolutely PISSING IT DOWN. It wasn't just raining cats and dogs, there were hamsters, guinea pigs, camels, zebras . . . you get the picture. (Perhaps I really AM Noah . . .) By the time we had ran down the street where the car awaited us and managed to cross the road, we were drenched.

And I had been awake for less than ten minutes . . .

Let's face it, it's never really going to recover from that kind of start, is it?

It felt like nothing went right all day. I was starting to get really annoyed whenever anyone even TALKED to me. I felt like punching a girl who implied I hadn't stayed late in work at all this week (when in fact I'd stayed late twice already, including a day when she sauntered out at four without even checking that was okay). Instead I killed her . . . with kindness. She didn't like that at all. Oddly, it felt satisfying. I guess my mum was always right about that one.

The highlight of the day? One of my other colleagues claimed he could see a body outside. I didn't have the energy to even LOOK. When I asked later on if he had investigated further, he said no, but it wasn't there anymore. Was he kidding? Had he been seeing things? I barely had the motivation to even wonder about it.

I felt downheartened about everything. I feel like I don't have a clue what's going on with the other half of my co-workers, who are off-site at the moment. And feel like they don't care what's going on with me. Sometimes I feel like they think I am just sitting here twiddling my thumbs - I actually have tons of stuff to deal with. And am having to do it all myself at the moment. Put it this way - Christmas Eve and my ten days (or whatever) off cannot come fast enough. I just feel exhausted.

Anyway, I got a ride back home (which was a good thing) and then decided, as part of my massive (annual-ish) room-tidying project (it's ongoing), I would change my bedcovers. I'd washed my favourite set at the weekend and they were all ready to go on. Can I just say, at the risk of sounding a little sad, that I LOVE the first sleep after a bedcover change???

Except when you're trying to insert the quilt into the duvet cover and end up showered in washing powder. Big chunks of it.

Yeah, THAT??? Not so nice. I've already got my second favourite bedspread in the washing machine ready to play substitute to the sheets I'm more-than-likely going to have an allergic reaction to. And looking despairingly at the carpet, which is covered in little granules of powder. LOVELY! Right now I'm glad I was leaving vacuuming until the last stage of the massive (annual-ish) room-tidying project. I think the project may have been aborted for the evening. Especially since I'm tired, and pissed off and . . . oh yeah, drinking some rose. (I managed to stay on the wagon for three whole days this time!) But tomorrow night . . . I'll be ALL over that shit. I promise.

Aren't you amazed I managed to go several days without a full-on rant? I suppose I can at least be proud of that.

Oh yeah and soon??? I'll be getting some curly-fries, courtesy of my lovely flatmate. Things are looking up already . . .

Wednesday, 17 December 2008

THE THIGH'S THE LIMIT . . .

Unlike a lot of females, I've never had a particular hang-up about my thighs. I tend to focus more on being hung-up on my love handles/muffin top/whatever the kids are calling it these days. My thighs have never bothered me.

In fact, I would prefer to be able to show my thighs than the lower portion of my legs. I don't wouldn't mind wearing hotpants, for example, as long as I could cover up the rest of my legs. Knee high boots perhaps??? Hmmm, not sure I could pull off the hotpant/knee high boot combo somehow . . .

Anyway, the fact I don't mind my thighs is what makes the next part weird . . .

For some reason, they keep attacking my trousers!!!!

I can't remember the last pair of trousers or jeans I wore regularly which do not end up ripped up the inside of my thighs in a matter of months.

My favourite jeans at the moment are on the verge of becoming indecent. I first noticed the fabric straining around my thighs just a couple of months back. Now they are fully fledged holes on either side. I have to walk like my legs are tied together in order to not flash any flesh.

You could say here "Wear a bigger size". It honestly wouldn't make a difference. I've worn many different sizes. Many different styles. A variation of fabrics.

THEY STILL WOULD RIP!!!!!!

It's frustrating. It's annoying. (Especially because a) they're bloody damn hard to sew back up and b) I can't sew for shit. Also, because I HATE shopping for trousers!) It's getting kind of expensive.

And my thighs still look the same size!!!

They're taunting me.

The only thing I can deduce from this strange phenomenom?

My thighs don't want me to cover them up.

In the words of Freddie Mercury, "they want to break free".

Who am I to hold them back, I suppose . . .

Tuesday, 16 December 2008

LOVERS IN THE BACKSEAT??? ER - THANKS BUT NO THANKS!!!

So I was going to post about entirely something else today (although I guess I don't really want to give the person it involves the satisfaction - burning ears and all that . . . ) but then when I was reading the comments on my previous post, I couldn't help but notice comment number seven . . . Step on up, Andy from Wild ARS Chase!!!



Andy said...
Let's be honest. You'd have sex in the car.


Now when I read it, I was all prepared to give some typical humour-as-a-defence-mechanism answer like "Man, it's been so long, I'd probably do it ANYWHERE!" (or WITH THE CAR, for that matter!) but then I realised it's really not true.

In fact, if someone asked me the most interesting place I had ever done it, the scene would most likely go like this . . . (right around about 6:25 on the clip).

Possibly this is because I overthink things so much.

Pool table? Too hard . . . and I'm not talking about the "cues" . . .

On a beach? Wouldn't sand end up in dodgy places???

In a swimming pool? God knows what other bodily fluids are in there.

In a toilet? I seriously can't think of anything less sexy than that. (Double that sentiment when it comes to an aeroplane toilet).

On top of that, the idea of someone catching me wouldn't remotely turn me on, it would just MORTIFY me. I'm self conscious enough about my body right now as it is without risking someone ELSE other than my co-shagger (is that a word? probably not . . . ) catching me partially/completely unclothed.

Why the obsession with sex in odd and/or public places??? Seriously!!! I just don't get it. To me, nowhere is more suited for shagging than a bed. It's ideal, in fact. It's COMFY!!!! And you can sleep there right afterwards. What could be more perfect than that???

I guess that makes me boring. But hey, I won't be the one who gets a gearstick accidentally stuck up my arse. Andy . . . ;)


*And yes, that IS a euphemism . . .


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Okay, so since it's Tuesday, I'm going to share my favourite Christmas advert. Possibly ever . . .



Monday, 15 December 2008

MY SECRET VICE . . .

. . . I like to name inanimate objects. Is that weird???

Once upon a time, my slippers had names. I always got the two of them confused though. I don't think they were very happy about that. They never said anything but I just got that vibe from them. Also, I tripped up a lot while wearing them. Coincidence??? I think not.

I have a fluffy cushion on my bed named "Thumper". It's the only cushion I've ever named. Do you think the other cushions feel left out???

I can't drive. Never even had a lesson. But I would love to own a car purely so I could christen it. (And by this I don't mean have sex in it and/or pee on it). I love the idea of naming the car. Since I don't have one, I like to get my kicks by helping to name other people's cars. Whether they want their car to have a name or not . . .

To assess its colour and personality and decide on a name would be soooo much fun. Should it be male or female? A plain name or a . . . COLOURFUL one? I don't have the first idea what I would call it. Much the same as I probably would be about naming a kid, should one ever be unlucky enough to come out of me.

Perhaps this is why I like to name things that probably SHOULDN'T have names? Because I really can't envision ever having kids myself to name?

Because, much like owning the car, the only thing I really WOULD want a kid for is to decide on its name . . .

Perhaps I could start a baby-naming service??? Yes!!! THAT can be my dream job . . .

-----------------------------------------------

Also, thanks to Meghan at Blog Voyeur Turned Blogwhore for my lovely virtual Christmas present . . . if only it were real!

Sunday, 14 December 2008

JOBS I COULDN'T DO . . .

* a masseuse - I'm not really a touchy-feely person, especially not when it comes to complete strangers.

*a travel agent - I would be full of holiday envy and trying to send people to places I knew were crap just to make myself feel better.

*an athlete - running up the stairs in work gets me out of breath . . . and that's ONE FLIGHT!!!

*a chiropodist - feet . . . EW!!!

*an actress - I can't cry on demand. (I can cry whenever I don't WANT to though . . . Just out of interest, is there such a job as professional crybaby???)

*a teacher - talking in front of people (even kids) would freak me out. plus it's waaayyyy too much responsibility knowing I am meant to be TEACHING them about stuff that could possibly shape their future.

*a doctor - I can't even watch scary movies because of blood and gore. to look at stuff like that on a daily basis and NOT be able to hide behind a cushion, quaking??? no, i don't think that one is going to work somehow.

*a nurse - see previous point.

*a personal trainer - motivate someone else to be fit/do exercise regularly when I can't even motivate myself? Yeah, there's a plan.

*a spy - i can't speak any other languages (save for some basic French), can't lie for shit, and can't kick ass. ie. I'm no Jennifer Garner.

*a waitress - I have serious issues with touching dirty plates that are not my own. And there's a VERY slight possibility I would feel the need to yell at people who were rude. And if not YELL, then spit in their food . . .

*a fashion designer - everything would be pink. I've heard not everyone LIKES pink, so this could prove to be a slight problem.

*a lawyer - waaayyyyy too much jargon to remember. Plus isn't that another career where you have to talk in front of other people? A LOT???

*a model - I'm only five foot three. Because that is CLEARLY the only thing stopping me becoming the new Gisele . . . ;)

*an accountant - I might actually be okay at this one, believe it or not. I got a B in Higher Accounts & Finance. However, I think I would be bored of it pretty quickly.

*a vet - there's too many animals I'm afraid of. This also eliminates the possibility of me being Noah, I guess . . .

*a judge on a reality tv show - I'm not good at telling people they're rubbish to their face.


I've ran out of occupations I think, I've racked my brain and I think I'm done. Anyone got any other suggestions I can pessimistically knock down??? Please feel free to suggest some more!

Saturday, 13 December 2008

DRIVING BACK IN TIME . . .

Earlier on today I was thinking about all the millions of times we went on road trips as kids - pretty much all the holidays we had were in the UK so we spent a lot of time travelling in our car from Scotland down to England and Wales. The place we went most often, in South Devon, took about nine hours to get to. There's a lot of music-listening to be had in that time, and given he was driving my dad generally got to play dj and choose the music. This is why I still like the following songs . . .












Are there any songs you still have stuck in your head from childhood?

Friday, 12 December 2008

WHY I'M JEALOUS OF MY FRIEND M . . .

Hi M!

As you're the only person I know I.R.L. that admits they read this blog, I feel like I can address this post to you!

I was jealous enough that you were in Benidorm while I was freezing my ass off over in Glasgow but your postcard pushed me over the edge. The little P.S. on the end . . . "All inclusive free booze. I had a pint of Baileys last night" was obviously designed to make me want to cry. Suddenly the rose wine I've been drinking seems just crappy in comparison.

Damn you!

Paula xxx

ps. you know I love you really.

pps on an unrelated note, who are the people in seattle who are looking me up tonight? i'm getting a bit scared. can you at least say hello???

ppps also unrelated but because i'm watching christmas songs on the music channels. here's a song i like to watch this version of mainly because i actually RECOGNISE everyone in it (unlike the previous versions) Including Fran Healy from Travis who I SHOULDN'T like for various reasons but I can't help but. Oh well. Plus it's for a good cause.

pppps or how about this one? it reminds me of a gig about a year ago. twas a nice night. i was a bit happier back then. but there you go!

Apologies for the lack of capitalisation in the vital places. My left hand has been ignoring my brain's demand to press shift when necessary. Let's blame it. Bad left hand. :(

APOLOGIES . . .

I know I've been a bad blogger this week.

Constantly putting posts up and then deleting them a couple of hours later when I realise they either a) don't make sense b)DO make sense but I don't necessarily want to put them out there or a sort of combination of a) AND b).

Putting posts up and disabling the ability for anyone to comment.

Basically just being a right moaner and whiner.

I'm sorry. In my defence I just haven't had a very good week emotionally. Everything has been bothering me. EVERYTHING. The loss of a friendship (something i think I'll be upset about for a long time - I guess I just wish now I hadn't thought we were getting it back because losing it AGAIN is what has fucked me off the most), feeling generally a bit lonely (let's face it, along with Valentines Day, this is one of the worst times of year to be without a significant other), the fact I feel flabby and my skin is crap and I can't seem to get up the motivation to do ANYTHING about it, the usual work stuff (just generally feeling like nothing I do is good enough) . . . just everything. It's tiring being stressed so much. I need to take some sort of chill pill methinks.

I think all the feelings have been magnified more than usual because of it being the wrong time of the month. I always get over-emotional then. I'm feeling a bit better now (possibly because it's the weekend - although there still manages to be a work issue I have to find out about and get pissed off about AFTER I leave the office) and I'm looking forward to my Saturday and Sunday. In a major way. Not much plans but that's okay. I've just been paid but I'm fairly skint. But, hey, it's nearly Christmas! I'm getting closer and closer to a WEEK AND A HALF OFF WORK!!! To nice presents! To silly cheesy Crimbo movies and tv specials! To an excuse to drink alcohol . . . AS MUCH AS I WANT!!!

It's going to be freaking awesome.

Anyway, I can't promise it's going to be a rant-free, moan-free zone. But I'll try to tone it down every so often. I can't possibly go through another week like this again anyway. Right? RIGHT???

So I'm sorry. I'll try to be better. :)

("Try" being the operative word. ANYWAY . . .)

I'll leave you with a funny little story. I met up with one of my friends last night for dinner and a couple of drinks (or twelve). She was raging with her boyfriend. Why? Because she had went to buy tickets for Pink online and when she went to put in the card details . . . SHE DISCOVERED HE HAD TAKEN HIS CREDIT CARD OUT OF HER PURSE!!! Yes, HIS credit card. Out of HER purse. "How rude is that???" she asked in disbelief.

I couldn't believe the cheek of it either . . . :)

Wednesday, 10 December 2008

FANCY A RIDE??? PERHAPS NOT, IN THIS CASE . . .

So today was my last day working down at the cold (FREEZING!) warehouse. I was so relieved. I was feeling like crap since I'd been having Aunty-Rose related cramps all day, tired, feeling awful still because of the stuff I spoke about yesterday (and also because something was said that made me even sadder, and made me remember how different things were a year ago), and did I mention I was cold??? :( All I needed to get out of the way was my taxi ride home and then I could have a cry and a hot water bottle to cuddle (and a drink if I wanted!).

I phoned a taxi company local to the warehouse as I didn't think my regular taxi company would come all the way out to get me. I phoned them on Monday too and got a car really quickly and a nice driver, so I had a nice journey home.

I should have known something was a bit weird when the taxi pulled up, I opened the door and before I could check it was for me, the taxi driver shouted "come on in, you're missing the party!"

"Er - okay," I replied uncertainly, getting in.

What followed was a twenty minute journey of oddness, amusement and . . . well, slight fear at times on my part . . .

It all started off fairly normally. The driver, like the one the other day, asked me what I'd been doing in the warehouse and where I worked normally. I replied without too much detail. Next thing he was telling me he had worked in the warehouse himself as part of his first job, something to do with emptying skips or something like that? Fair enough. Nothing too out of the ordinary there.

For some reason then the subject of taxi companies came up. He asked me what one I usually used, and then told me how he'd made up his own little song for the firm he worked for. "Would you like to hear it?" he asked. I shrugged. "Sure, go ahead."

He proceeded to launch into a two-minute (somewhat off-tune) jingle he told me he'd made up one day "out of boredom". About how the taxi company would take you to the bar, take you to "the flicks", even pick you up "from the brew". I wasn't sure whether I was meant to laugh or not. I was amused but I'm not sure if it was for the right reasons. He was telling me how he'd told his bosses about it but they weren't willing to use it to promote the company. Apparently everyone else in the company LOVES it though . . .

"So what do you want for Christmas?" he asked next.

"Hmm, I'm not sure if there's anything I really want," I replied. I have decidophobia after all, and resent being put on the spot.

"Okay, I'll buy you a chocolate bar!" he announces. "Let's go buy you a chocolate bar as a Christmas present."

"It's okay," I said hastily. "It's not Christmas yet, it's fine." (Oooh, yeah, and I met you all of five minutes ago, I added inwardly).

"So come on, you must want SOMETHING for Christmas," he pressed me. I shrugged. "I think I'm a bit old for Christmas."

Of course, then he asked what age I was. And, since I love to indulge my vanity once in a while, I said, "guess". Which probably wasn't the best of ideas, since he was then staring into the back seat instead of looking at the road. "23?" he estimated. RESULT! He was taken aback at my true age. Of course, then the tables turned and he asked me to guess his age. I'm CRAP at age-guessing. I estimated he looked around 40 so guessed 35. Turned out he was 34 - oops. Don't think he was too happy with that. Man, am I lucky I rounded down.

"So what's your name?" he asked. Once again, I was too caught-off-guard to lie.

"Oh - Paula!" he exclaimed. "I LOVE that name!!! I bet you get that song sung to you all the time." I expressed ignorance. "Oh come on, you MUST know the song 'Hey Paula'" he said. " Here, I'll sing it to you. I mean, I doubt the words will come true, you're obviously too good for me, but you never know!" Once again, the singing started. I cringed as all this stuff about him wanting to marry me and blah-blah-blah came out in musical form. By this point, I was starting to feel decidedly awkward.

"So are you married?" he asked. I said no, wishing I was a better liar. "Living with someone? Are you a lesbian? Good. I don't understand people like that at all. I went out with this girl once and she said to me 'I really like you, but you're just the wrong sex." She was fucking gorgeous as well. I was GUTTED."

Apparently without drawing breath, he glanced around at me again. "Did getting that thing in your nose hurt?" he asked. "I don't like piercings, they hurt. I mean, I think they look REALLY NICE ON OTHER PEOPLE, but I can't put up with the pain myself." (Meanwhile I was still wondering how he had managed to spot my nose piercing in the darkness).

"You look like you should be a nurse," was his next comment. "You're really angelic looking." (Hmmmm . . .)

"Get out of the way people!" he ranted through his windscreen at a couple trying to cross the road. "Ooh, doesn't she look like Madonna?" he said about the female half of the couple, who was probably not much older than me. "Will I tell her?" He started to roll down his window. "No!" I practically screeched. I don't think the woman would have seen it as a compliment . . .

Next glance around and I got the question "Did you used to be engaged?" He had somehow in a quick glance taken in the two gold rings I wear on the middle finger of left hand, both of which were my gran's. I was getting quite freaked out now by his overly-keen observational skills.

By this point, I was considering getting out of the taxi early, as I was feeling . . . well, scared. He was asking me where I hung out of an evening, who I lived with . . . As we drove past it, he told me some story about standing outside Oran Mor last Christmas wearing a suit and no socks or shoes offering to take pictures of people for a fiver a go . . . I could barely keep track of the conversation (except for blogging purposes, of course).

By the time we were close to my street he was back to the chocolate bar present again. "It's fine thanks," I said hastily, as he rambled on and drove right past my street. "Anyway, you can just let me off here." In a way i didn't really want him to see where I lived exactly.

"Oh have I driven past your street?" he asked. "Will I go back?"

"No, it's fine," I said quickly. I practically flung the money at him, telling him to keep the change. I was out of the car in a flash (while still trying to maintain a semblence of friendliness, obviously!). I quickly made a beeline back down the main road and onto my street although I could hear him turning to make his way back from whence he came.

Two seconds later all I heard was him yelling "I fucking miss you already, Paula!"

I didn't look back. I'm sure half the street did though . . .

Tuesday, 9 December 2008

PROBABLY THE CLOSEST YOU'LL GET ME TO DISCUSSING SEX . . .

So yesterday I read this article on the diet.com website. Here is its introductory paragraph. I think it will sum up the content quite nicely . . .

"This article has the potential of overpopulating an overpopulated world but let the facts be known. Did you know that having sex three times a week burns the same calories as running about several miles per week?"

After reading it, two words sprung to mind.

Bite. Me.*

Once again, a strike-out for the single girl. Because if you're a) not with anyone and b) not really interested in anyone and c) not really up for one-night-stands**, then basically . . . it sounds like you're going to get fat.

Unless you get a lot of far less fun exercise!!!

And it gets even more annoying. Because not only does it burn calories, apparently sex also boosts your immune system and relieves stress.

(I don't necessarily require much help with the first, but the stress part . . . man, this explains soooo much.)

So I'm missing out on using up 170 calories an hour just because I'm single???

Again . . . bite me.

The upside though??? 170 calories AN HOUR??? I have to do it for AN HOUR???

Man, I'm not sure I'd have the energy for that . . .

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Cheer-Me-Up-Tuesday time (based on my earlier post, you can probably tell I definitely need this . . .)

So for your viewing pleasure, two clips from one of my favourite episodes of "Scrubs". Hope you enjoy . . .






*Not literally. I don't really like that.

** Although apparently, also according to the article, it's only non-promiscuous sex which is good for you - promiscuity has the opposite effect. Hmmm . . .

I'VE JUST GOT HOME . . .

. . . and I'm feeling absolutely rubbish. Which is weird since I actually felt okay about an hour ago.

I guess I just feel rubbish because the situation I spoke of last week? Feeling like I had lost a good friendship and was never going to get it back? Well, it's even more obvious to me that's true now.

I seriously don't understand how someone who was once so close to you can now feel like a total stranger. How someone you constantly wanted to talk to can become someone you are struggling to have a mere conversation with. To see this person be perfectly mormal and friendly to other people and be so jealous because you want them to be like that to you too and can't understand why it's different.

But I guess it is. Whatever. Regardless of the reasons, I just feel like shit now.

I don't think it's wrong of me to want my friend back. I just wish he agreed with that.

I'll be back after I've had a shower and comfort-ate a Weightwatchers meal (I know that's a contradiction in terms but the lasagne IS really nice.) I just wanted to get that out. I'll be better later, I promise.

Monday, 8 December 2008

PARTY WITH THE "STARS"? ER, NO THANKS, I'D RATHER NOT . . .

The Christmas Marks and Spencers advert does my head in. Why? It's cheesy, it's twee, it has a bunch of so-called "celebs" in it I don't really care about and . . . oh I don't even know what else. It just annoys me, okay???

If you haven't watched it, please feel free. I've embedded it below (perhaps you've noticed???) I decided it might be fun to add my own commentary underneath the video though. Just cos I felt like it . . .




0:02 - "NEWSFLASH! Take That's Howard Donald in possessed hand shocker!!!"
0:08 - "Why yes, it WAS a purple leopard . . ."
0:26 - "Yes I realise I'm not really wearing much while everyone else is fully dressed but I AM an underwear model, after all . . ."
0:37 - "Dammit, you've caught me - I buy the world's most boring presents!"
0:41 - "NEWSFLASH! Take That's Howard Donald in third leg shocker!"
0:45 - "Ooops sorry for hitting you with the snowball - I didn't recognise you with your clothes on!"
0:50 - "Oooh I shouldn't have twirled around like that, I think I'm going to puke now. Blurgh." (the last part is off camera of course . . . )
1:00 - "Yes, I just don't understand how I didn't get into dance school either . . . "
1:02 - Twiggy estimates how much bigger she has gotten since her 60s-skinny-heyday . . .
1:04 - "Oh no, you're THIS much bigger!!!"
1:08 - "Hey girls, how do you fancy being backing dancers on Take That's latest tour???"
1:17 - "When I'm not starring in M & S adverts I wear a onesie. Shhh, don't tell anyone."
1:30 - "When I hold this present to my ear, I can hear the sea!!!"
1:38 - "I think this bra might be a little too small for me . . ."
1:43 - "Yes, goodbye, you've suffered enough. Oh and no matter how hard you try, you won't experience a perfect Christmas like ours."


See why it annoys me?

Mind you, it's good for poking fun at . . . :)

Sunday, 7 December 2008

"DOESN'T IT FEEL LIKE CHRISTMAS?"



I love Christmas. Have I mentioned that before??? (Quite possibly!)

I don't like the fact that the Christmas stuff starts appearing in the shops in the middle of September, mind you. But once December arrives, then for me it's all about the presents, Christmas songs, Christmas films ( . . . and the guilt that I haven't kept Christ in Christmas and am a commerical sellout, but whatever!). I love the Christmas lights, the Christmas atmosphere . . . although I try to avoid the shops at this time. Too many people for my liking and I have waaaayyyy too much pavement rage to handle not killing anyone.

I have a feeling I'm not going to enjoy this Christmas as much as last Christmas. Although it's good being single from the point of view that it's one less present I need to stress about, it's also a time to feel especially lonely I guess. Because, let's face it, Christmas is all about the togetherness. Good thing I'm naturally a loner anyway, or it would probably sting more, right??? :) I'll probably either end up spending my time off either by retreating to my room with a bunch of dvds, many books and my internet connection for company, or going in completely the opposite direction and socialising as much as possible. Right now, the first option sounds the most desirable. I know I'll definitely be missing a certain person more than usual though. But that's what happens I guess . . .

On the upside, that's me pretty much completed my Christmas shopping. Just a couple of odds and ends left to get. So I decided I'd share a bit more of it with you.

This necklace is from the same etsy shop I got the strawberry necklace and strawberry shortcake bracelet from.

Next up, I bought these books from Amazon as part of my mum's present. I had the first book before myself and loved it - I don't have it anymore, guess I loaned it to someone and never got it back; I'm not sure who. Anyway, it's basically this dude who sends made-up letters of complaint to the airlines, and gets into the most ridiculous of conversations, it made me laugh so much I thought my mum would love it. While I was buying it I noticed the author Terry Ravenscroft had "Dear Customer Services" too, which is basically along a similar premise just a bit more broad in spectrum. So I figured I might as well buy the two. Hopefully she'll like them. :)From Pressies 4 Princesses , every person into alcohol should own at least one drinking game, right??? And from the same site . . . I have to say, I'd quite like one of these martini glasses myself!A lovely necklace from asos. Under a tenner as well. I always like a pretty bargain . . . This is part of my Secret Santa present - also from asos. I hate buying Secret Santa presents although at least this time I got someone who is a friend anyway. It's still a guessing game though. I thought this was a nice set myself so hoping she likes it too . . .

From Firebox, some sparkling vodka. Looks nice . . .

And also, some beer bottle goblets. Pretty cool, right? It's the Grolsch ones I purchased. As well as them and the Sol ones pictured you can also get Corona ones.

TIME OUT . . .

Normal service will resume later. Right now I'm just thoroughly frustrated at the fact I woke up at six am on a Sunday morning and haven't been able to get back to sleep. And dammit, I've been trying to. I've tried my ass off. Yet I'm still wide awake.

I hate lying in the dark for too long because then I'm just alone with my thoughts. Sometimes I have too many thoughts inside and they crowd each other out. I had to eventually make the executive decision to just give up trying to sleep and read my book because I couldn't keep thinking.

So now I'm awake but tired but unable to sleep on the day I really wanted to catch up on a week's worth of zzzzzs. And it's not even eight o'clock yet and it's meant to be a day of rest!

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Saturday, 6 December 2008

STAY UP FOR LONGER . . .

So the other day I was kinda bored. And I was talking to my friend V and finally figured "okay, probably about time I went back to my desk." As I did so, I had this urge to just ruffle my male colleague's hair on the way past . . . you know, since touching things is fun* and all.

He kinda jumped. This was probably justified, he probably wasn't expecting it. "What did you do that for?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Just felt like it."

For some reason this lead the three of us onto discussing the hair belonging to the temp in our department. It's cool, very spiky. This discussion was fairly loud, as I was back at my own desk by this time.

"Seriously though," I asked. "How does he get it to stay up?"

Sudden silence as I realised what I had said. And what it SOUNDED like . . .

Once again, my foot-in-mouth syndrome strikes.


*Okay, okay, I KNOW that clip is immature as fuck. But I couldn't help but laugh at it. Sorry!!!

Friday, 5 December 2008

OH DEAR . . .

So tonight my lovely Irish friend was back over for the weekend again. Yee-hah! Don't see her for over two years then twice in less than a month. How great!!! And yes, I mean that with complete sincerity. (Yes, this IS true sincerity for me.)

First of all, something that freaked us out a little. We were in this pub called (I think?) The Toby Jug and there was this dude with us who couldn't have been that much older than me. He had a woman next to him who I was convinced must be his mum, if not his gran. I had to hide the shock when he introduced her as his WIFE. Seriously, all I could think was "WTF???" No one else seemed surprised though so I struggled to conceal it.

Anyway, me and my friend were down in the toilets a while later and topic of discussion rolled around to this woman. She said she had also been surprised when she found out who the guy's wife was. We speculated on what age the woman was. I was generous and said late forties, she scoffed at that. Then she told me how the woman had estimated HER age at thirty due to the lines under her eyes. Given the fact she is 28 and looks nowhere near it, she was fairly insulted by this. Especially given WHO the comment had came from . . .

Both of us had to agree that although we had often heard of guys going for the "older woman", more often than not this was not a woman like this one. Sigourney Weaver, Goldie Hawn, they are possibilities. Perhaps even Helen Mirren. But this woman could not compare to any of those. I couldn't help but wonder what their story was. But then, you can hardly ask!!!

On top of that, remember this post??? Well, tonight I experienced the aftermath. The awkwardness. The oh-my-god-i-can't-look-at-him-too-much-or-else-he-might-think-i-fancy-him. The "shit!-SERIOUSLY-what-possessed-me?" paranoia.

It wasn't pleasant.

It made the night slightly more awkward for me.

I WOULDN'T recommend it . . .

Thursday, 4 December 2008

A.N. ARSE . . .

The other night I was walking into the city centre to meet my friend for the Stereophonics gig when I noticed something strange. One of the dudes walking in front of me had a disproportionately large bottom.

Not big. Well, not big, per se. Just big compared to the rest of his body.

To be honest, I don't spend a lot of time looking at guy's bottoms - not since sixth year of high school when a bunch of us were bored one day and tried to make a list of the top five nicest bums in our school. But most of that was done from memory rather than by staring at bottoms on repeat for ages.

But the whole ten minute walk into town, I could not stop staring at this guy's bum. I don't know why - I guess I'd never really thought about guys having bums that were too big for their bodies. I thought that was just a girl thing really. This guy was like the J-Lo of guy's behinds. Seriously.

I found myself wondering if he had a hang-up about it. I decided he probably didn't because he was wearing a short jacket that kinda cut him in two, and his work trousers were fairly tight too (yep, I'm painting a lovely picture here, right?) Part of me toyed with asking him but I knew I wouldn't really because 1) that would be weird, 2) he was a complete stranger and 3) if he hadn't noticed before, me asking about it would probably force him into a life of paranoia.

Perhaps it is best that he just lives in ignorant bliss of his problem. After all, I can't imagine anything scarier than a guy turning to me and saying "does my bum look big in this?"

It really just wouldn't be right.

But it HAS aroused my curiosity - has anyone else a guy with a bum too big for his body? Are any of YOU guys with out-of-proportion asses? Do you know someone who falls into this category, or have a friend of a friend of a friend who falls into the sample? Or just in general, DO guys ever worry about the size of their ass???

Just wondering . . .

----------------------------------------------------------------

On a side note, I've basically only heard this tune for the first time tonight . . . but for some reason it's one of those songs that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I'm probably behind the times as usual . . . I don't jump on the bandwagon, I wait until it knocks me over. But I like it a lot...

Wednesday, 3 December 2008

ICE ICE BABY . . .

The thing I hate most about Scotland is probably the weather. Particularly in winter.

You know, despite the fact we were the first country to go in "The Day After Tomorrow", it's actually not as cold here as some might think. But this week it's been trying to prove otherwise, believe you me.

As you already know, I had a bit of a fall on Monday, thanks to a random patch of ice.

Yesterday, things took a turn for the worse.

It's one thing coming across one or two random patches of ice. But what about when half of Glasgow is frozen over? And I'm not talking that virtually harmless ice (which was the type I slipped on). I'm talking slippery, can-barely-keep-your-footing, have-to-walk-on-the-road-and-risk-getting-hit-by-cars-cos-it's-safer-than-walking-on-the-icy-pavement ice. Sheet ice. Black ice. Invisible ice. The kind of ice that leaves you breaking out in a cold sweat as you try to navigate from one step to the next, knowing that each and every step could be your last . . . before you end up sprawled out on the pavement with people pointing and laughing around you.

My walk to work yesterday was one of the scariest walks to work I have ever had. Honestly.

It actually took me nearly an hour to do what is usually a forty minute walk. Mainly because I was taking these tiny, shuffling steps, almost as if I had my feet bound together. I didn't fall, but I had many near misses, skidding about, arms flailing. I must have been comedy viewing for those bastards all nice and warm inside their cars.

Arseholes.

What I REALLY don't get though is that the fact that you get a massive part of pavement covered in this evil ice, and then a completely normal bit. I'm assuming the pavement without ice must be made of something else. So . . . WHY THE FUCK DO WE NOT MAKE ALL PAVEMENTS OUT OF THE NO-ICE STUFF?? It's hardly rocket science, is it?

Anyway, by the time I reached the pedestrian footbridge where I met my match the day before, my nerves were already frayed. But oh my god, it was about to get much worse.

For before me lay . . . DA DA DUM!!! . . . Solid Ice Bridge!!!

Seriously, the bridge was like nothing I've ever seen before. I actually had to hold the railing for dear life the whole way across it. My feet were skittering about like I was a novice skater on first time on an ice rink, without the advantage of skates (btw, my UGG boots don't grip for shit). There was a girl a bit in front of me, clinging onto the same rail. As I navigated my way across the bridge, I notice she had stopped. For a rest, presumably. It was kind of a tiring journey, after all! But all I kept thinking was "she had better BLOODY MOVE HER ARSE PRETTY DAMN QUICK." After all, there was absolutely no way whatsoever that I was going to let go of the railing to get around her. I knew I wouldn't stay upright if I did. Luckily she started moving again. I made it to work unscathed but anytime I mentioned going across that bridge, people would be like "oh my god, were you ON that?" as if I'd just told them I had climbed Mount Everest (I haven't, by the way).

Perhaps I would make a good Arctic explorer???

Hmmm . . . perhaps not. That journey was tiring enough . . .

And for my Cheer-me-up-Tuesday contribution, I have managed to track down a link to a funny email that made me laugh last week. Go here.

And here's another one which made me laugh . . .

Hope you like! :)