Friday, 30 April 2010

STRESS IN AIR-TRAVEL . . .

I LOVE going on holiday. But I find actually getting there extremely stressful.

It all starts in the airport. Actually, no, that's not right. My stress starts before my journey TO the airport. When is check-in? When should I phone for a taxi? Should I pre-book it? What if they forget about me? After I've phoned, how long will it take them to turn up? Will I get to the airport in one piece? How much will it cost?

(Considering the last two journeys I have had to the airport involved a crash and a broken gearbox, I think I'm justified in many of the worries.)

Then we reach the airport. Where is check-in? Is it open? Is it the one with the massive queue? (Yes) Is there more than one queue for this particular check-in? (Yes) Will I choose the slower queue like I always end up doing in the supermarket? (Yes) Will me and the rest of my party be so near the back of the queue we end up having to sit separately?

(Thank God we've pre-booked seats this time.)

Security. Am I wearing anything that will make the machine bleep? (Probably not, but it will undoubtedly beep anyway.) Is my bag going to get searched? Am I going to be subjected to some sort of body cavity search? Do I have something in my carry-on that I shouldn't? Have I chose the wrong queue again? (yes). What if someone steals my stuff at the other end of the x-ray machine before I get to it? Will I have to take off my shoes?

(I HATE that.)

Through security. How much alcohol can I drink at the airport bar before I am refused the chance to get on the flight? Will my flight be delayed for eight hours like the Majorca one last year?

Boarding. One time me, my mum and some other travellers got stuck in a passage on the way to board the plane. One of the doors closed and we couldn't get it open from our side. We thought we were going to be forgotten about and left behind. It didn't happen but WHAT IF IT HAPPENS AGAIN???

Oh then I worry that the person in the aisle seat will already have sat down, which means I will need to climb over them or make them stand up to reach my seat. What if they hate me for the entire flight???

And, the most important one, ever-present no matter how smoothly anything else may go. Will the plane crash?

Safe to say I worry too much . . .

But worrying doesn't get packing done. Neither does blogging, I guess . . .


What stresses YOU out most about air travel?

Wednesday, 28 April 2010

SOME IMPORTANT MESSAGES . . .

To all the rude people out there . . .

Here's a lesson for you. Manners cost nothing. Seriously. If you have seen me virtually everyday for the past four and a half years and you walk past me, don't growl at me if I have the ABSOLUTE NERVE to smile or say "Hi". I end up feeling as if I've done something bad, like threatened your pet dog or your kid or something. Funnily enough, I am trying to be NICE. You should try it sometime. Seriously. It won't actually KILL you. (Well, not most of you anyway . . .)


To Aunty Rose . . .


I guess you read my rant about you last month. Is that why you have decided to delay turning up this month? Have you invited yourself on holiday with me??? If you embarrass me in my bikini, I will not be a happy bunny. Just so you know!


To my body . . .

Why won't you downsize??? Why am I now a pound heavier than I was at the beginning of last week? Why is it when i give you healthy stuff to eat, you rebel? Please stop it!


To a certain someone who will remain nameless . . .

I hate miserable people who go out of their way to pick on people and try to drag them down to their level. You are a prime example. Oh, and your fake laugh fools no one. I'm very glad I'm not you. I'm sure I'm not the only one.


To "Where in the World" Wednesday . . .

Sorry for abandoning you these last few weeks. I needed a self-imposed break. I need to go more places. I will be back after Zante - promise!


To F . . .

I think you still like me. I still like you. But it's always going to be the wrong time with us. This makes me sad. But I won't dwell on it any longer.


To the holiday company . . .

Please ensure that our tickets are waiting for us at the airport as promised, that the line isn't too long, that the plane isn't delayed and that we stay safe. I have been looking forward to this holiday for so long, and I DESERVE TO ENJOY IT, GODDAMMIT! Glad we have that sorted.


To Zante . . .

Make sure the weather is nice for us. I want a suntan. Thanks.

Tuesday, 27 April 2010

CHEER-ME-TUESDAY . . .

So I saw this on youtube and it made me smile - and then giggle at the end . . .



And then I found this too, and this made me laugh, since the original song IS kind of nonsense . . .




Or is it just me that found these funny? If so, I apologise, but I have about a million things to do tonight, still need to catch up on everyone else's blogs and also am in the middle of dyeing my hair. (Nothing exciting, just a root touch-up followed by highlights - I'm not doing anything drastic!) But I hope it made at least one person smile!

Oh, and since I am going to be away next week, I was thinking perhaps some of you might guest-post for me? Pretty please??? Let me know if you're interested . . .

Monday, 26 April 2010

SILLY THINGS I TEND TO DO WHILE UNDER THE INFLUENCE . . .

  • realise I'm drunk and should stop drinking . . . then keep right on drinking
  • fall over
  • injure myself in silly ways (this weekend I managed to headbutt the corner of my desk while bending down in the dark to unplug my netbook charger. I now have a "hole in my head" according to my sister.
  • show people my boobs.
  • ask guys what size their penis is
  • drop my drink. This tends to only happen when I have a real glass - weird how it never happens with the plastic glasses, eh?
  • adding people I barely know on Facebook purely because Facebook have suggested I do it. Then I get the "**** has accepted your friend request" a few days later and think "WTF?"
  • speaking of Facebook, making passive aggressive status updates about whatever is annoying me at the time
  • drunk online buying. Like the time I bought a "Juliette and the Licks" album purely because Zane Lowe played one of their songs on some music show. I didn't even remember buying it until it showed up. Or the time I ordered a couple of comedy dvds but managed to order two of each of them. Stupid.
  • starting to cry for absolutely no reason
  • saying something utterly stupid to a guy I like
  • telling someone exactly what I think of them (that's a fairly new one)
  • leaving wherever I am without telling anyone and walking home
  • kissing people I shouldn't
  • texting people I shouldn't

Enough???


What silly things do YOU do while drunk?

Saturday, 24 April 2010

A MIRACLE DIET???

So you know how I've been back on my diet this week. I mentioned it the other day. And how I had been really good and resisted temptation.

Despite all this, I was weighing myself every morning and I was exactly the same weight Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday AND Thursday morning. Right down to the decimal point - for reals! It was weird because one night - I think Wednesday? - I randomly decided to weigh myself in the evening and I was STILL that weight. And everyone knows that's bollocks because after eating during the day and whatever, you're always heavier in the evening, right?

So I was starting to think either 1) my diet wasn't working or 2) my scales were broken.

I'm not sure which option was worst.

I weighed myself yesterday morning and - miracle of miracles! - I had lost 1.4 pounds. Thank God!

But last night, after a crappy week, I knew I had to have a bit of a blowout. So I got myself a bottle of rose wine, a frozen pizza (well, two little ones) and a Chocolate Orange bar. And ate and drank it all. I knew it was stupid while I was on a diet but I felt like I NEEDED It.

(Why yes, I AM an emotional eater! How did you know???)

So it was with slight trepidation I weighed myself this morning.

I'D LOST ANOTHER POUND!

So . . . . bottle of Cava and a Dime bar tonight then . . . :)

Friday, 23 April 2010

TOPLESS LUNCH?

It was "Wear Your Football Top To Work Day" today in our office. I have no idea why, apart from the fact it was for charity. I don't follow football, so I wasn't taking part. I wore my Barbie top instead and told anyone who asked that I was supporting Barbie's right to play football. Which seemed fair enough to me.

Anyhoo . . . two of the guys in my team took part. One was wearing a Rangers top, the other a Kilmarnock top. We have to coordinate the time we take our lunches so there is always someone in to cover. These two guys wanted to go on lunch together along with a guy from ANOTHER team, who was wearing a (I THINK) St Mirren top.

Basically they believed that lunch would be more fun when they were all wearing their football tops and could slag each other off about their respective teams.

Yes, I will NEVER understand guys.

Anyhoo . . . the brief conversation went like this.

Colleague 1: (to the rest of us) Do you mind if I take an early lunch with Colleague 2? It's just that we want to have lunch with Colleague 3, and with us all wearing our tops, the banter is going to be IMMENSE.

Colleague 2: (not without a touch of sarcasm) Because, of course, we normally don't WEAR tops at lunchtime . . .

It cracked me up so much that I had to give Colleague 2 a "gold star" made out of a post-it. That was by far my highlight of the day.

Yup. My life IS that sad. (It's okay, I don't mind!)

Thursday, 22 April 2010

AND THE HUNGRY GIRL WENT INTO THE BAKER'S SHOP . . . BIG MISTAKE! HUUUUGGGEEE MISTAKE!

You might know I'm on a pre-holiday, can-I-desperately-lose-ten-pounds-drop-a-dress-size-and-look-good-in-a-bikini-providing-that-Ashy-Volcanson-doesn't-strike-again diet. (MAN, that was a lot of hyphens!)

I've been pretty good. I've been sticking fairly rigidly to the Harcombe Diet, not mixing my animal fat and carbs together, eating loads of fish and veg and healthy crap, and the only thing I've indulged in AT ALL is dark chocolate. It's allowed, you see. Anyhoo, I've remained the same weight for four days now. EVEN DOWN TO THE DECIMAL POINTS!!! Seriously, that's just weird.

But the point is, I've been good. I've continued to be good.

I haven't slipped at all.

But man, earlier on, did I WANT to!!!

I made the mistake of walking into town with my friend after work as she needed to pick up a birthday cake that her sister had ordered. I made the mistake of going into the baker's shop with her.

FATAL mistake!

I saw sausage rolls and various other savoury pastry, carb-heavy and sinfully bad for you delights winking at me. Pretty cakes smothered in icing flirted with me, daring me to ask to take one of them home. Then I turned and saw . . . the chocolate counter.

Oh yes. There was a counter devoted to lovely little individual chocolates, hues ranging from white to darkest brown, numerous fillings tempting me, each one prettily decorated.

I think the only thing that stopped me from ordering some then and there was that I couldn't see the prices. I figured it was one of those "if you have to ask the price you can't afford it" cases.

I've been dreaming about those chocolates ever since. My Green & Blacks organic dark chocolate with ginger seems strangely lacking now.

Oh, and I also am dying for a Steak Bake from Greggs. ALSO not something I can touch at this stage of my diet. (Or probably ANY stage of ANY diet!)

The moral of the story is . . . I shouldn't go into this bakers when I'm on a diet. It basically has everything I could ever want that is bad for me.

Except for rose wine. And men.

Then it TRULY would be the bakery from Heaven/Hell . . .

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

THE BLACK HOLE IN MY BEDROOM AND A BIT OF A "WHODUNNIT?" . . .

You remember how I once thought my clothes were conspiring against me? Well, I still believe that. Especially since my skirt decided to disappear somewhere underneath my top on my way home tonight (thank goodness I was wearing a longish coat and not a short jacket, because my knickers would undoubtedly have been showing. And that already happened once this week...)

But I also believe someone is out to get my CLOTHES! Because of late, my room has turned into a black hole and started to suck some of my favourite clothes and accessories into it.

I HATE to lose things. It's probably my most OCD-like tendency. When I realise I lose something, I search for it OBSESSIVELY. It consumes many of my waking hours as I wonder where I haven't looked already, where I HAVE looked and somehow missed it . . .I find it really hard to stop thinking about it, and the only thing that stops me searching for it until I find it is my inherent laziness.

I'm not someone who can shrug off just misplacing things, not even unimportant things. If a certain book pops into my head, I want to find it, right then, right there. If I want to wear a certain thing and can't find it, I will end up making myself late, and usually have to give up on it eventually. Usually a couple of days after I give up, it reappears somewhere I've checked a million times.

It happened with my precious Barbie top a few weeks ago. I thought I'd lost it forever, eventually given up on it as a lost cause. Shortly afterwards it turned up in the drawer I'd checked obsessively for days.

It happened with my pretty Primark belt last week. (I KNOW it's only Primark, it cost like two pounds fifty, but knowing what the stock turnover is like in there, I probably would never find a duplicate version). I found that in my UNDERWEAR drawer of all places, tonight, after a week of searching in vain.

It's not THAT type of belt, if you know what I mean.

And now it's happened to one of my newest tops.

Now, this top is nothing particularly special. Just a black vest. But I wore it one day last week and . . . let's just say "the girls" looked pretty damn good in it. That was the only day I wore it. And now it's vanished without a trace.

I have no doubt it will reappear shortly. Although I have every intention of going onto asos tonight and ordering a new one anyway - "you can never have too many black vests, after all!" so the saying I just made up goes. But I am absolutely stumped to why these things keep going missing and then reappearing mysteriously somewhere I've already looked.

No, it's not my flatmates. We don't have one of those flatshares where people share each other clothes and drink wine together and talk about their boyfriend's penis size and stuff like that. Well, MOST of us don't anyway. Someone wouldn't just walk into my room and start using my stuff. I know this for a fact.

So the only conclusion is this - the black hole is being operated from INSIDE the room. But who is doing it???

And why??? Are they lending them to other girls to wear to make some extra cash? Or are they just trying to mess with my head?

Anyhoo, I have some suspects . . .


Suspect number one - Winnie the Pooh Head*.

Mainly because he is jealous because he has no body and is taking it out on me.

Either that or he's trying to get me naked. Which is extremely disturbing.

Good old Rosy cos she is a little mischief maker sometimes. You might be thinking she doesn't look quite herself in the picture. Well, she doesn't actually like having her picture taken so when I snapped it, she blushed. Since she is already quite blushy, she goes transparent when embarrassed. See?

Okay, I admit it. I drank her dry. You happy now?


Last but not least, there's mini-Paula** who sits on my shelf and looks at me. Possibly jealously because she is stuck inside a picture. And I don't entirely trust her because I think last time Mich was over she said no matter where you are sitting in my room it looks like mini-Paula is looking at you. Which is weird because I honestly thought I lost my squint as a child. Hmmm.

Who could it be??? Who has the biggest motive???

Or am I really just the most careless person in the world?

And, most importantly, where will my top actually turn up???***

ALL WILL BE REVEALED WHEN . . . well, when I FIND it, I suppose. :(



*A present from my lovely little sis.
** Another present from little sis. She likes to give me presents. :)
***Apologies if this is a weird post. That's the kind of weird mood I'm in tonight.****
On a sidenote, in amongst the footnotes, I love you all. xxxxx
****And no I've not been drinking. The Rosy pictured was consumed several nights ago!

Tuesday, 20 April 2010

OOOH . . . NICE ASH!!!

Seriously, when the fuck is this going to end?

Did I mention that the last time Ashy Volcanson erupted it lasted for 13 months? Luckily that was back in the day when such an idea as planes was probably as unlikely as . . . I'm trying to think of a more modern day example. Um . . . as unlikely as us believing Britney Spears was a virgin back in the day? (Yeah, Paula, that's a good one.)

So some of the Scottish airports re-opened today, mainly for domestic flights. Although, strangely, the first INTERNATIONAL flight scheduled to go out was to . . .Reykjavick.

Think about it.

Where is Rekjavick the capital city?

What country is Ashy Volcanoson situated in?

WHERE IS THE FRIGGING ASH COMING FROM?

I don't understand. Lack of geography knowledge (apart from capital cities, obv!), perhaps? Why was the first international flight meant to be going TOWARDS where the ash cloud was leaving?

I'm very confused. Maybe it could fly around it easier? Actually no, that makes no sense.

I also don't know if the flight actually went or not. But that was something that had my mind all twisted up all day.

Anyhoo, Glasgow Airport closed again at 1pm, while some other Scottish airports (and a couple of English ones) remained open. But then Ashy had already struck again, spewing out even MORE ash for our inhaling pleasure. Seriously, if I was spewing this long, I'd have been wondering what the FUCK someone had put in my drink. This volcano has had a SERIOUS magma overdose. Someone pump its stomach, stat.

So what now? What will happen next? Will the airports reopen AGAIN only to close again? Will we keep getting messed around for the next year or so? Will the eruption of Ashy a.k.a. Eyjafjallajökull (which, I have been informed is one of the SMALL volcanoes on Iceland!) set off the eruption of its neighbouring volcano Katla (why is that soooo much easier to say?), like it has on past occasions? If so, I don't think many of us in the western world will be travelling by air for a while.

Can you tell I've spent too much time reading up on this?

Right now, I don't see the point in sorting myself out for my holiday when I have no idea whether it will happen or not. I will be leaving getting euros until the last minute. Good thing I'd decided I was leaving buying any clothes until the last minute in case I lost weight. Now, it's in case I lose weight AND in case I don't actually get to go!

That being said, I'm still trying to look at it positively. I'm laughing at the jokes about it. I'm following the ash cloud on Twitter (I suppose its really not ITS fault this is happening - its the volcano's fault!) I'm remembering that while we may have been brought to a standstill by the ash, we can still go about our daily lives without being affected MORE directly by the threat of flooding, or a volcano spewing lava, of our plants and animals being killed, or worse happening.

I'm not really a glass half full sort of girl as you know.

I'm not even really a glass half empty sort of girl.

That's because my glass is COMPLETELY empty. I drank it dry. (And the rest of the bottle.)

But you know what? There's no point in me getting too stressed about this. I realise that. I want to go away, and I will be gutted if I don't get to go - I have been looking forward to this for so long. But when it comes down to it, I need to look at it as . . . even if it falls through . . . I still have a week and a day off work. Which is better than being AT work. Even if it isn't sunning myself on a pretty beach, wearing a bikini, flirting with sleazy barmen and drinking Sex on The Beach.

But positive thoughts are needed. Not just for me, but for anyone else who has been affected by the volcanic eruption, who is stuck overseas and unable to get home, who have plans to get to Europe very soon and aren't sure if they will be able to go (like Amber and Angela), and for those in Iceland itself who are probably most directly affected by Ashy Volcanson and its ongoing magma hangover.

Ashy, if you're interested, I have a glass of water, some painkillers, a bottle of full fat Coke AND a roll and sausage all ready for you. That might help cure you.

No??? Oh right, okay, I'll have them myself then . . .

CHEER-ME-UP TUESDAY

After the stress of the past few days - and the road rage incident yesterday in particular, I feel like it's time for Cheer-Me-Up Tuesday to make a cameo. Anyone else feel like playing?

So last week, I read a book called "F In Exams" by Richard Benson, which is basically a little book full of silly answers to exam questions in schools. The book made me howl with laughter in many places. So I thought I would share a few of the funnier ones with you . . .


In the Hawaiian islands there are around 500 different species of fruit fly. Give a reason for this.
There are approximately 500 varieties of fruit.


Name the smaller rivers that run into the Nile.
The Juveniles


Name a regular triangle.
A three-sided triangle


Claire used good body language at a job interview. Can you think of three good examples of body language Claire may have used?

1) Pole dancing

2) The Moonwalk

3) The Bolero


Claire was well-prepared for her interview. Explain how Claire may have prepared herself for this interview.
Had a bath and put on her lucky pants.


Explain the process of "learning".
A process by which information goes in one ear and out the other.


Who said "I think, therefore I am"?
I did.



Where was the American Declaration of Independence signed?
At the bottom.



Upon ascending the throne, the first thing Queen Elizabeth II did was to:
Sit down



What was the largest threat to world peace in the 1980s?
Heavy metal, because it was very loud.



That was just a small taster - hope you laughed as much as me, and it makes your Tuesday better. And perhaps you should check out the book for yourself - I would totally recommend it!

If anyone has anything to cheer me up, or wants to do their own Cheer Me Up Tuesday post, please let me know!

Monday, 19 April 2010

ROAD-RAGING . . .

I have just walked in the door after work and I am absolutely LIVID thanks to this ASSHOLE who tried to run me over and then had a go at me.

This guy actually deserves several punches in the face.

Let me explain here. I'm not some stupid little girl who throws herself across roads in front of cars. If I am crossing a road and not at an "official" crossing, I'm over-cautious to the point where I tend to actually be standing there for several minutes before I move. I don't want to risk getting hit by a car. It's fairly simple.

And it was this guy who was in the wrong, not me. I think perhaps he knew it, deep down. (It was fairly obvious he was in the wrong but he WAS an idiot, so I'm assuming his brain maybe wasn't capable of processing the hard cold truth of the matter.)

I had been standing waiting to cross the road for a couple of minutes and it wasn't showing any sign of improving. The second the cars disappeared in one direction, the cars appeared in the other. I was getting a bit frustrated but still waiting patiently for a chance to get across.

FINALLY there was light at the end of the tunnel. A clear way across in one lane and the other only had four cars coming. The first stopped before it reached me , moving into the centre of the road and indicating it was about to go down the street I had just came from. It was holding me up, as the other cars had to go around it to get past. So once they were past, I started crossing the road and was nearly across when the driver of the first car apparently changed his mind and started driving straight ahead.

Either way, he was being a douche. Option one - he just wasn't paying attention. Option two - he SAW me crossing the road and decided to just be an ass. I shook my head as I made it to the pavement, angry that he was being so careless. Particularly until I had waited until the point it was safe, HE was the one who had changed the rules and driven recklessly.

So then he pulls up beside me and rolls down his window and tells me he doesn't know what I'm shaking my head for. "You nearly hit me!" I shouted at him, aware people around me could hear but not particularly caring.

"Well maybe you should watch where you're going," he snarled back.

"Well you shouldn't have tried to drive on straight ahead when you were clearly turning!" I yelled back, feeling myself getting red and angry.

"I wasn't turning," he lied. "You just weren't paying attention and got a fright."

Hmmm. If he wasn't turning, why did he indicate, stop in the middle of the road and let all the cars behind him pass him? Unless he was deliberately TRYING to hit me with his shitty little car, that is.

Fucking moron. He had more to say. "Perhaps you should take out those earphones," he added.

Oh yes, because my earphones make me unable to see cars that decide to run me over randomly, and he seemed to have neglected to notice that I was having this entire argument with him while my earphones were still IN, therefore there was nothing wrong with my hearing either.

I repeat - fucking moron.

Let's just say I went the childish route and before I walked away, I gave him the finger.

"Nice." I heard him mutter sarcastically as he pulled away from the kerb.

Yes, Mr "I Undoubtedly Have a Tiny Penis and That's Why I'm So Angry" Crap-Driver, that WAS nice of me. Because what I really wanted to do was take a hammer to your car . . . and then to your skull.

Mind you, you're so hard-headed, I doubt you'd even notice. After all, it's hard to suffer from brain damage when you don't have two brain cells to rub together in the first place . . .

Sunday, 18 April 2010

I'M AN IDIOT . . .

I posted the other day about the volcanic ash cloud that's currently enveloping big chunks of Europe. I'm becoming increasingly worried about the fate of my holiday as the airports continue to be closed, and aeroplanes continue to be grounded. Day 4 of this is nearly over now; and we're headed into Day 5 and the flights continue to be cancelled.

Argh!!!

Anyways, this is not what this post is about. Sort of.

The other night I realised that I needed to sort out travel insurance pronto. I am silly and impractical about a LOT of things, but one thing I always make sure I do is sort out insurance before I go anywhere. I did a search on my email inbox to find out who I had got my previous policy through and when it ended. As I had went on holiday a week later last year, and had taken out a year's policy, I figured the current one might JUST cover me.

I looked at the dates on the email, and was rather surprised to see it would cover me until the 15th May. That made no sense. I'd went on holiday on the 9th May last year, why would a year long policy cover me for 53 weeks?

When I looked at the date the policy started, it all made sense. The policy WAS a year long after all.

I had somehow managed to book my travel insurance to begin the day I was coming BACK from my holiday last May, not the day I WENT on holiday.

It's taken me a year to realise I booked the wrong dates and went to Rhodes without any travel insurance.

Thank GOODNESS nothing bad happened on that trip!

What a moron I am . . .

Saturday, 17 April 2010

AVOIDING THE ASH CLOUD . . .

So you may or may not know that a volcano erupted (AGAIN!) in Iceland this week. And as always (as I've said before "The Day After Tomorrow" proves it) Scotland was first to be affected as Scotland airspace was closed down shortly thereafter, and the rest of UK and parts of Europe quickly followed suit.

Me and one of my former flatmates (the one I went to Rhodes with last year) are a bit worried about this. I'm meant to be going to Zante on the 2nd May, she's going to Majorca on the 1st. With all the vagueness surrounding when the flights would begin again and the ash would disperse, we've been worried it might affect our holibags.

I am very determined it should not, since our first holiday plans for May were thwarted due to Globespan going into administration. And then, do you remember our Majorca holiday last year? A great time was had DESPITE the taxi going off the road en route to Glasgow airport, our flight being delayed eight hours AND a terrorist attack killing two policemen in the very resort we were staying AND resulting in half our loved ones texting us frantically to ensure we were okay.

I think we deserve a trouble free holiday. Right???

Anyway, I had a great laugh this morning at my flatmate deciding she was allergic to "volcanic dust from Iceland". It's not something that has a cure that you can just pick off the shelf, right? Not in SCOTLAND anyway - I THINK our volcanoes are extinct, so volcano ash isn't something we suffer a lot from. I'm glad I could see the funny side of it, despite worrying two weeks into the future.

Seriously though, of my friends on Facebook, so many were affected by the flight cancellations. There were people stuck in the country who couldn't leave, others who were stuck outside the country and couldn't get home . . . there was even a guy who couldn't get the tattoo he wanted because the tattooist was meant to be flying over from Sweden and couldn't get a flight. In my work, one of our most important deadlines has been affected by the fact we can't get deliveries from overseas due to the flight cancellations.

I've never known anything like this.

Yet in the same way ir's kinda awesome and makes me want to go to Iceland. Because I'm weird like that.

Wednesday, 14 April 2010

A SORT-OF GUEST POST . . . FROM MY BEST PAL ROSY!

I just realised there is a blog swap a-happening today in this here blogosphere. And I managed to miss out. Gutted. I still kind of wanted to take part though, so I decided to do a guest post, of sorts. Meet one of my lovely friends, dear to my heart and witness to many events in my life . . .

Hi everyone!



My name is Rosy.



Not be confused with Paula's Aunt Rose (AKA her "time of the month"), I am one of Paula's bestest friends, and closest confidantes.



My name is actually Rose too. I think there's an accent somewhere in there, an acute or something, but I can't work out how to do them on this computer. (Come on, I reckon it's impressive enough that a bottle of wine has managed to type AT ALL!) Anyway, Paula decided it would be easier for me to call myself Rosy, and that works for me!



I am the possessive sort. I get upset if she cheats on me with Cava, or Abbie (short for Absolut) . . . or that brief flirtation she had with Jacques (cider). But I know deep down she'll always come back to me.



I spend much time with her. I am both the devil and angel on her right and left shoulder. She loves me, but sometimes curses the things I entice her to do.



Like that little "text with an ex" situation I lead her into last weekend. Or falling over with a bottle in her bag (yes, she may have been cheating on me with WHITE wine, but it was ME who caused her state of drunkenness originally). Or just falling over full stop. I was with her in Manchester. I was there the night she accused a guy she had only just met of liking to shag dead people (SHE can't even remember that.) I'm there often when she reads blogs and makes comments. I like pretty much all the same blogs that she does.We have a ridiculously compatible sense of humour.



See? I know all of YOU too. We may not have met personally, or perhaps we have. But I know all about your lives.



I'M A STALKER!!!! (Just screwing with ya.)



But anyway, you know about most of the incidents I mentioned above anyway, right? I've been with her while she wrote some of the posts about these happy times. So I'm going to share what I did the other night. Which was some of my best work yet, if I say so myself!




I encouraged her to send an email to one of her (and my) blog crushes.



Then I made sure I erased her memory so she didn't remember actually SENDING the email.



This is what the email said:



Hey
I am drunk (on a monday, how embarrassing!) but I'm emailing because I think you rock and I want to be friends in real life.
Yes, I'm really uncool, but there you go!
P :)(
If not we'll forget this ever happened and you'll never know I said hi!


How embarrassing, right? It made me laugh anyway. Luckily Paula saw the funny side AND the fellow blogger said she DOES want to be her friend. So it's all good in da hood. (I'm "street" like that.)



Anyway, this was fun. Perhaps Paula will let me do another guest post again sometime. I hope so. Perhaps I'll even have some MORE embarrassing stories to tell you. I'm already plotting as I type.



(Did I mention it's hard to type without hands? I'm using a corkscrew as a substitute.)



I'm off now. Me and Paula are going to hang out tonight and read some more blogs and then perhaps later Ill hang out with Abby and the others. Some dude called Jack Daniels has been hanging around recently - me and Abby both like him and are competing for his affection. I'm not QUITE sure he's to my taste but I won't know til I give him a try, right??? ;)



Lots of love (and drunken memories or lack thereof)



Miss Rosy Wine


xoxo



PS I like "Gossip Girl". Can you tell?

Monday, 12 April 2010

DEAR SILLY SPAMBOT COMMENTERS . . .

. . . this post is for you.

Because I know it's really frustrating for genuine readers who don't have google accounts or Open IDs, I decided a month or so ago to make commenting on my blog open to everyone. I know, I'm a very nice person.

Within about two days, I had to put comment moderation on, thanks to you lot!

I was sick of the spam clogging up my comments. I still AM, because I still have to read the crap myself to moderate it.

I know I could put on a word verification but I nearly never get those right first time when I'm commenting, so I'm reluctant to do that.

So I ask you, silly spambots, this:

Why do you think I need a penis enlargement? Seriously, please tell me. You're making me paranoid about the size of my penis . . . BECAUSE I DON'T FUCKING HAVE ONE!!! I am a GIRL, 'kay??? If I DID have male genitalia, I'd probably be trying to SHRINK it, not make it bigger!!!

And no, that's not a prompt for you to use my comment section to start trying to sell me penis reduction pills.

(Is there such a thing?)

And I can't quite understand why you leave me comments telling me that my post has come in very handy in completely your paper. First time I saw that I was mildly flattered - then I thought . . . "hmmm, wait a minute, that post was about POO" (or something like that.) Who is writing a paper on THAT??? Oh and then the same comment turned up a couple more times . . . then I saw it on other PEOPLE'S blogs too. I mean, I started to feel a bit cheated on, to be perfectly honest. You're giving EVERYONE the same comments - what am I supposed to think???

That being said, if you really WERE using my posts to help you in your papers, you could AT LEAST buy me a glass of wine.

Or even a full bottle . . .

Then there was the ones that made me paranoid. Like when I posted about the blogger meet-up I attended in Manchester back in February, and was talking about what a fun time I had down there, I got the following comment from you guys:

Ah, This is awesome! Clarifies some misnomers I've been hearing.

Back in the early days of me allowing anonymous comments, I immediately started thinking that someone had been slagging off the meeter-uppers. Then I realised it was spam - especially when I started to see very similar comments elsewhere.

I'm not really sure what these comments accomplish though - are you just trying to cause division? Is there an agenda I can't see? Because I don't see any linkage going on within these comments, they just seem sort of pointless really.

Let's see, what else? Telling me about solar energy is all well and good . . . but it has NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT I'M POSTING ABOUT. Honestly. Or I have mentioned in the past that I have a fascination with natural disasters, but PLEASE stop leaving me comments about the world ending in 2012. The movie (good though it was!), scared me enough without further comments about places I can go to see more about it.

(Are they even genuine links anyway, or just sneaky links to porn? I don't even want to TRY to find out.)

Basically I get enough silly spam in my email inbox without having people use my BLOG to make me feel bad about my floppy tiny (nonexistent) penis, or spout absolute nonsense that mentions Whitney Houston's drug use, amethysts (incorrectly spelled though), blood appearing dark when one bleeds etc all in one comment (oh yeah, that comment appeared in my moderation section today.) It doesn't even make SENSE most of the time.

So here's the rules. If you ARE a genuine commenter, and want to leave a genuine comment, that's fine. Even if you don't have a name. But if you're just trying to sell me stuff and/or confuse me, then please just move your spam-bot on elsewhere. Deal???

Laters!

P

Sunday, 11 April 2010

DIRTY TEXTING . . .

So . . . um . . . where to begin?

Something a bit unexpected happened last night.

And I ended up having dirty-text-time with F.

(Remember F? For anyone who is knew to my blog, he is a guy I used to like while in high school - after ten years of not seeing each other at all, we started chatting to on Facebook about a year ago, he ended up asking me out, and we casually dated - if you could call it even that - for about six months. I've barely heard from since he broke up with me - or whatever the fuck you do when you end it with someone you were barely seeing anyway.)

It started with me drunkenly thinking it would be a good idea to send him a "How are you?" private message on Facebook. Which would have been all well and good if it had been left at that. Normally he either doesn't reply or takes DAYS to reply.

He replied straight away. I found myself replying straight away too. But it was about half one in the morning, and so I decided to dust off his phone number and text instead.

Seriously, what did I hope to achieve? Did I think he was going to tell me he missed me and we would end up back together? I don't think so. I mean, the first thing he did was tell me he had five plays on the go at once - this doesn't sound like someone who is going to have time for a relationship, right? I guess I just missed the chat we had back at the beginning. When we could chat online, face to face, or via text about pretty much anything.

Unfortunately, within about three texts it was clear that it was already descending into the DARKER side of texting. Both wide awake in the middle of the night, both in bed . . . where else could it go except into the gutter?

And the minute it started, I kind of wanted out. I suddenly just felt really tired and wondered why I'd got myself into the situation in the first place.

I still liked him, don't get me wrong. But I suddenly remembered that the constant sex-texting towards the end was all he seemed to have time for. Which made me feel a bit used. It wasn't the sex-chat I missed, it was the NON sex related banter.

That being said, he seemed very keen once he got started, and a couple of times mentioned he could be here in 20 minutes if I said the word. Was he being serious? Who knows? I was scared to say yes in case of the can of worms it could potentially open . . . and I also couldn't really face him seeing me with greay hair and a few extra poundage since the last time he saw me.

I finally fell asleep at half four in the morning in the middle of texting, and I guess he did too as he only sent one text after I fell asleep and didnt follow it up. Or maybe he realised it was a bad idea to continue. I've heard nothing since.

So the moral of the story I guess is this - I liked him more for the other stuff than for the sex. It seems he liked ME more for the sex. At least in the end. So perhaps FINALLY I have the closure I need.

Now I'm off to get dressed and head to the Botanics with my book for my last day off before I return to work tomorrow. Thank God it's a nice day - sunshine is exactly what I require today! :)

Saturday, 10 April 2010

HOW *NOT* TO ANNOY ME IN THE PARK . . .

Miracle of miracles . . . we have had nice weather so far this weekend. It was about 16 degrees celcius today. In APRIL! This is *whispers* "virtually summer", as predicted by me last week. I whisper, because I don't want it to hear and scare it away.

Today I headed to the Botanic Gardens for the first time in . . . well, probably since LAST April/"summer". The weather was lovely, me and my sister had magazines, a picnic (consisting of M&S sushi, tuna sandwiches and cocktail sausages), the gardens were relatively quiet . . . it was great!

But, like vermin, the annoying people began to fill the park.

I admit, I get annoyed way too easily. I think anyone who knows me and/or reads my blog on a regular basis will know this about me. I'm sorry, that's just who I am. But there are certain things I am pretty sure would annoy everyone in this case. And since I like this little "How *Not* To Guide" series I have fallen into by accident, I thought I would continue it. So here's how not to annoy me when I'm trying to sunbathe in my local park . . .

  • PLEASE make sure you plonk your crap really close to me. It's fine - I know there's TONS of spare grass around me. You sit RIGHT NEXT to me. I don't mind. Go ahead. I don't have any issue with personal space whatsoever.
  • Proceed to talk in a really loud voice. About a lot of crap. Seriously. I CARE that your relationship is on the rocks. Or that the person you are talking to didn't believe you were dyslexic when you first met ten years ago and now that is the funniest thing you have to talk about. Or that you once strangled someone. (I heard someone say that today. For real. I think they were just trying to get attention, so I pretended not to react.)
  • When you sit, with your back to me, make sure I can see your gasman's cleavage (ie. at least part of your arse crack). Because I love that. Who the hell doesn't???
  • If you are a guy, stare at me, or other girls, and don't worry that we might catch you. OBVIOUSLY, when you wear sunglasses, this makes you invisible. We can't see you checking us out. It's kinda like Harry Potter's cloak that makes him invisible. REAAAALLLLYYYY . . . *rolls eyes*
  • If you have kids, PLEASE let them chase the pigeons. We like to have pigeons flying at our heads while we are trying to relax. Seriously. It's GREAT fun.
  • Throw food about. This also attracts pigeons. Yay.
  • And, when you leave, don't take your garbage with you. (Fucking litter louts.)
  • It's nice you love each other, it really is. But please don't virtually shag one another in public. It's indecent. (I know this might be cheek judging by my last TMI post but during the day in parks I'm not generally drinking and at least I KNEW everyone at that party...)
  • Yoga moves, in public, for all to see, are GREAT entertainment. (Actually, all sarcasm aside, that's sort of fun to watch. When we run out of magazines to read, it gives us something to do. But I'm not sure everyone would agree.)
Anyone else got anything to add before I go onto my less sarcastic section of the post???

I want to finish with a note on drinking in public. Personally, I don't have an issue with this, but apparently the law does. This is something I have always found very frustrating because I believe the staff in public places picks and chooses who they "catch" drinking. I have sat in a park and saw the workers throw out, or take alcohol away from "the neds" with their beer bottles, but ignored the west end yuppies sitting with their picnic blankets, kids and champagne in actual real glass flutes. It infuriates me. You know what? I dislike neds, but they have just as much right to sit and drink in a public place as the yuppies do.

And today I saw a bunch of guys and girls, who weren't neds by any means, be told to leave the Botanic Gardens because they were drinking beer . . . and two minutes later, four girls were caught drinking, sweet talked their way out of it, then continued to drink.

I hadn't even NOTICED the first group prior to them being chucked out - despite them being about six feet away from us (by the time they arrived the park was quite busy, therefore you don't mind as much when people sit quite close to you.) The second group though . . . they were loud, obnoxious, and just annoying. Why was it fair that they got away with drinking (and CONTINUING to drink) when the first group didn't?

Moral of the story? If you want to drink in a park, make sure you plan it in advance and decant your alcohol into a less suspicious receptacle . . . AND keep an eye out for park staff. Unless you are really posh and think you can pull it off.

Now I need to go and sort out some after-sun lotion, methinks . . .

Opinions on public drinking?

MY NIGHT-TIME INTRUDER . . .

Another tale of flat woe, sponsored by moi.

(Yay! Right??? RIGHT???)

So about three weeks ago, I was in my flat and drinking on a Friday night. I probably was up until about 2am, then drifted off to sleep, anticipating a lovely long lie the next day.

Instead I was woken up by a guy FALLING INTO MY ROOM and shouting "Oh shit, sorry!"

(For the record, despite the fact I was half asleep and didn't have my contacts in, I'm fairly certain it was my flatmate's boyfriend. Or a mutual male friend. Whoever it was knew me anyway. So it wasn't a complete stranger!)

It was four in the morning. Or, more appropriately, THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!

I don't really understand how he fell into my room in the first place given that the doors are heavy fire ones and need a fairly good shove, but occasionally my door doesn't close completely over, so perhaps that's what happened. Even then, I'm not sure why someone would fall in my door unless they had been pressed up against it!

So what followed was a rather strange conversation. (But then what else would you expect when a guy you barely knows falls through your door in the middle of the night??? Exactly . . .)

Him: Fuck, I'm so sorry Paula, I just fell in the door. It was a total accident.
Me: (from my bed at the other side in the room, still in the dark) That's okay, don't worry about it. I got a fright, that's all. You woke me up.
Him: Were you sleeping?
Me: Um - yeah!
Him: Are you alone?
Me: Er - yes.
Him: You're not asleep! (accusingly)
Me: (pointedly) I WAS.
Him: Oh come on, it's Friday night, get up and come and have fun.
Me: No, it's okay, I'm tired, I want to come back to sleep.
Him: Are you REALLY alone?
Me: Yes
Him: Come on, get up!
Me: No. I want to sleep now. (sharply)
Him: Oh right, okay. Sorry again. Night!

Door closed.

I lay there for an hour or so, wide awake, wondering if I had just dreamt the whole thing.

Come the next morning, I had a missed call from my flatmate, so I think it definitely happened. It was all a bit random though.

It's an improvement over waking up to find a policeman in my room a la my flatmate B at New Year. But I have been sticking a chair in front of my bedroom door ever since just in case . . .


Also, you may hsve already checked it out but I made myself a little About Me page (hopefully I'll be making a separate and updated blogroll page soon but I am very lazy and that involves a bit more work and possible repetitive strain injury due to copying and pasting A LOT) so go check it out. I'm a bit sad you can't actually comment on it (cos how do I know you read it otherwise!) but feel free to comment on here about it! :)

Who is P?

Thursday, 8 April 2010

TMI THURSDAY: WHY I SHOULD REMEMBER WHERE I AM AND ACT ACCORDINGLY . . .

Come one, come all to the very last TMI Thursday. LiLu has declared it her last, so let's all take part one more time and share some embarrassment or utter grossness with the world.

TMI Thursday

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!


Okay, so this one isn't so much gross, it's just a bit embarrassing. I've touched on the story before but here it is in its full glory - what I remember of it anyway.

Bit of a back story first - about a month prior to this happening, I was at a work night out and snogged a 21 year old. Well, he snogged me, and I didn't stop him. What I didn't realise what that he had a girlfriend and his girlfriend had a baby (not his, I believe). After it happened, I had a bit of a fall out with one of my best friends, because she assumed I knew he had a girlfriend. We got it sorted in the end, but it made me a bit wary of who I snogged in the future.

So anyway, fast forward a month or so to the end of January 2009, and I was at a party. The party started early-ish, say around about three pm . . . so I was drinking rose from 3pm. Hmmm. Not a wise move. I also really wanted to kiss someone, but single guys were pretty limited at this party. There was one guy who seemed nice enough and I was pretty sure he was single, so eventually after chatting for a bit out in the hall, we started kissing.

We came up for air and something struck me. "You don't have a girlfriend, right?" I asked. I didn't want to get into trouble again.

He laughed and said no, and we started kissing again.

However, we were both drunk and I think we'd kind of forgotten we were in a hallway of a flat, where the party was in full swing in the living room, all the lights were on, the door was open to the living room and we were giving a bit of a floor show to the rest of the party-goers.

And his hands were in my knickers.

Oops.

This went on for a bit, neither of us having any sense of public decency, and finally I think my friend didn't want me to be humiliated any longer and came to try and rescue me.

"Paula, WHAT are you doing?" she asked me sharply.

I unengaged my lips from the guy and turned around in surprise. "It's okay," I assured her. "I asked him. This one DOESN'T have a girlfriend."

"Paula," she said slowly, looking me up and down. "Your skirt is undone."

That was the point when I actually realised where I was and that most of the party had been watching me getting . . . well, let's say fondled in inappropriate ways for public viewing unless I was on a porn site on the internet.

Taxi for P???

Now go check out everyone else's stories at LivitLuvit!

(And don't worry, the TMI will continue on my blog, just not on a regularly scheduled day!)

Wednesday, 7 April 2010

THE TWITTER TIME CONTINUUM*

*I'm not really sure what the title actually means, but it sounded good to me, and that was the important thing!

I love Twitter. In fact, Twitter has taken over from my Facebook addiction. (Thank God SOMETHING finally kicked that habit to the kerb.)

The thing I love about it most is because I follow people all over the world, Twitter is never quiet. When I wake up in the morning, the people on the other side of the Atlantic are just going to bed. The people to the east of me are halfway through their day. For the first half of the morning the people in the States and Canada disappear and then reappear at around about midday, just waking up and making their commute into work while I happily realise I've made it through half the working day and only have a few hours to go. In the meantime, I continue to be jealous of those who are several time zones ahead of me and already are home from work or out in a bar.

At the weekend, this reverses slightly. I am jealous of those to the west of me who have their full weekend still spreading ahead of them while my Saturday is nearly over and I've wasted most of the day in bed. I feel smug that those ahead of me have nearly finished their Sunday while mine is only halfway through and I COULD technically still make the most of the day. (Although I probably won't.)

Am I a geek to be thinking about all this stuff? Probably. And I think about it A LOT. I mean, one of my favourite things on the internet is the Daylight Map. Have you ever seen it? Right now, as I type this at middayish in Scotland, all of Australia, Japan, most of North America and part of South America are in darkness. It's so cool!

When I do all my pointless thinking about twitter, I think about that map. About how there's always someone in the world awake and online. At least once a day, even just among the people I follow, someone is:

***Getting angry on their way to work (usually me!)
***Trying to decide what they want to eat for lunch
***Feeling sad and needing a hug
***Feeling ridiculously happy and not knowing why
***Wondering if work is ever going to end
***Wanting to punch at least one person they work with
***Making a cryptic comment that will make pretty much everyone who follows them go "What the FUCK?"
***Recounting a joke/drunken incident that makes everyone want to laugh

All these people, some I've met, some I haven't, getting on with their day . . . and I get to share in it.

I like that. It's nice.

Is that weird?

Tuesday, 6 April 2010

THE RETURN OF THE LOO ROLL SAGA . . .

I formed a useful equation recently:

1 toilet roll lasting four days + lack of noise = Noisy Flatmate not being in the flat for several days!!!

Unfortunately this realisation came to me yesterday, so I didn't appreciate it fully. And as I prepared to walk out last night to meet my friends, I was greeted with the unmistakable noise of her (and boyfriend, who I'm increasingly convinced is living here too) returning.

And so I woke up this morning to the sound of her voice . . . and no toilet paper left in the bathroom.

So . . . let's do the maths here. One roll of toilet paper lasted for nearly four days, with almost half a roll left, when she wasn't there. Within about 12 hours of her returning, toilet roll is gone.

Which means . . . it is DEFINITELY her and boyfriend that over-use the stuff.

Grrr grrrr grrr.

Not that it bothers them - they just go and use the OTHER bathroom where presumably there IS loo roll.

So childish it may be, but when I needed to go to the toilet there, I took several sheets from our supply (which we keep in our kitchen) and didn't take an entire roll in with me. Now I know once and for all that the lack of loo roll is linked to her, I definitely don't see why I should pay for her to poo.

Some good things that have happened, just to balance out the loo roll negativity . . .

  • My asos delivery arrived today. I have a couple of cute new tops, some fabby Barry M nail polish, and an adorable little dress. The only problem with it? It buttons up the back. Seriously. Do they assume we are all double jointed? Things that ZIP up the back are difficult enough!
  • Our pub quiz team came third last night and won a bottle of wine. Which the rest of them let me have. And I put the bottle in my bag and didn't fall over, so I was able to drink it. Well, I still have a LITTLE bit left, so I'm going to drink that now.
  • I FINALLY managed to reserve me and my sister's seats on our flight to Zante next month. Thank God. The Thomson site was doing my head in last week!
  • I have tons and tons of fab books to read.
Now all I need is for my netbook charger to arrive, these Reebok trainers I'm meant to be testing to turn up, and to work out who the heck keeps phoning me at really strange times and not leaving a message, and life might almost be good.

EDIT: By the time I got home last night, she had bought toilet paper. I should state here that a lot of the time she is quite good for buying toilet paper - it's just that I resent buying it most of the time as I probably only use a few sheets of paper per roll. Which is why we never put more than one roll in the bathroom at a time - it seems to just get them excited . . .

Monday, 5 April 2010

SONGS FOR SUMMER . . .

So it's now April . . . which means it's practically summer!

Over-optimistic? Moi? Probably not. I've mentioned before that here in Glasgow, our "summer" generally takes place in April or May. So I'm looking ahead here.

Now one thing I LOVE to do when it's sunny is laze about in the Botanic Gardens (which are handily just around the corner from me) listening to music that puts me in an extra summery (ie. very good) mood. These songs, even when played in the winter, put me in a better mood and make me long for it to be summer and for me to have a convertible car I could drive around in blasting them out of my stereo. Never mind the fact I can't drive, this is my imagination at work.

Anyway, here are the songs which make my list. It's heavy on the R&B, but that particular genre spells out summer for me.

Don't Mess With My Man - Lucy Pearl



You Know What's Up - Donnell Jones & Left Eye



What's Luv - Fat Joe & Ashanti



Livin' It Up - Ja Rule



Oooh We - Mark Ronson, Nate Dogg & Ghostface Killah



If Your Girl Only Knew - Aaliyah



California Love - 2Pac



Come To Me - P-Diddy and Nicole Scherzinger



All Over - Lisa Maffia



Ride It - Jay Sean



No Scrubs - TLC



En Vogue - Don't Let Go



I Got 5 On It - Luniz




Now that's just a small selection. I could actually have gone on all day but I thought that would be a bit pointless. Other songs which could be on that list - Try Again - Aaliyah, Gravel Pit - Wu Tang Clan, The Thong Song - Sisqo, Foolish - Ashanti, Don't Talk - Jon B, No More - 3LW, Right Here - SWV, Breathe - Blu Cantrell & Sean Paul . . . I could go on but before I get carried away again, I'll stop it there and turn this all around on you!


What's on YOUR summer playlist? Do you agree with any of these? Suggestions of other tunes to be added to the list?

Sunday, 4 April 2010

MY HANDBAG *MUST* BE HUNGOVER TODAY . . .

So yesterday I hopped on the train to Carluke to go hang out with one of my friends. The contents of my bag had been hastily assembled and I'd thrown in a fairly new (a mere two weeks old!) bottle of greeny-blue nail polish. I'd painted my nails in a hurry and rush-jobs are rarely much good which is why I felt that taking the polish along with me would be a good idea.

Boy was I wrong.

It was a busy train and I had my bag on my lap until Cambuslang, when the people sitting around me got up. When I transferred my bag to the now-empty seat beside me, I discovered a greeny-blue stain on my coat . . . and a greeny-blue stain on my bag. Upon further investigation, I discovered that the bottle had actually BROKEN IN HALF in my bag. Greeny-blue varnish dotted most of my belongings - I had no tissues so was forced to try and clean up the mess by using the myriad of old subway tickets sitting on the bottom of my bag. By the time I'd finished, all I could smell was nail polish - you know how toxic-smelling it is, right? - and my hands were covered in the stuff.

Luckily I managed to pick up nail polish remover and my hands were restored to their former glory. Phew.

But that wasn't all that was in store for my bag. There was worse to come.

After a few drinks (aka a bottle of wine) we decided to go to the local pub. We got there, we drank more. Apparently a guy then bought us a bottle of wine. I don't remember this. I DO remember that I was very drunk by this point though. I needed my bed. We decided to leave. Since I had the biggest bag, my friend put the rest of the unfinished bottle in there. It's okay, it had a screw-top.

This would have been all well and good had I not ended up falling over on the way home,

I have no idea how it happened. I wasn't wearing heels. I wasn't trying to dance (I think). But I was drunk and the ground was wet. I managed to fall in such a way that my bag took a lot of the impact.

You can possibly guess what happened next.

The bottle smashed.

My poor bag was now full of white wine and broken glass. Oh, and half my belongings.

I woke up this morning to realise the contents of my bag were all over my friend's bedroom floor, the bag itself was damp and stank of wine, there was glass among my belongings and my coat and tights were coated in mud.

The only silver lining of this was at least I'd got rid of the toxic nail polish smell.

The biggest cloud? It was a terrible waste of wine . . .

Friday, 2 April 2010

DRUNKEN DON'TS . . .

So I went out last night and I got . . . well, more than a little merry, let's just say. I don't remember the last pub I was in, just that it was somewhere on Bath Street. I remember being outside it for a bit while my friend had a fag. I believe I walked home, as I have a vague recollection of being EXTREMELY desperate for the loo by the time I reached my flat and thinking my bladder may explode. I don't remember getting into my flat. I'm assuming I went to the toilet as I didn't need the toilet anymore when I woke up at half five, and I hadn't wet the bed. I also discovered when I woke up I had five missed calls, a voicemail and a text from my friends. Oops.

I have no idea whether I had a go at anyone (it COULD have happened), whether I fell out with anyone, fell over or kissed someone inappropriate. I like to think though if I HAD, I would at least have a hazy memory of it, so I'm hoping this means I didn't. Anyway, here's my hastily compiled list of things not to do around me when I'm drunk . . .

  • Don't tell me your deepest darkest secret. Unless you want me to have forgotten about it the next day - mind you, if you want to get something off your chest but never want it brought up again, then perhaps it's a good idea to use me as your confidante.
  • Don't kiss me. If you are a guy, even one I don't actually FANCY, I will more-than-likely kiss back. Then be mortified the next day and never speak to you again. If you are a girl, I will slap you.
  • If you don't like me, don't give me dirty looks. I'm not normally confrontational but when I have a bit of drink in me and someone is making it obvious they don't like me, I may start mouthing off about it. You might not understand what I'm actually SAYING, but I'm sure you'll sense the tone.
  • Don't give me instructions for how to do something. Simple or complicated. I won't remember the next day how to do whatever it is. I may not even remember you TELLING me how to do it in the first place.
  • Don't ask me to get a round in. Even if it IS my round. I'm not being stingy, I'll give you the money for the round, I just can't get it. Number one - I'll never remember what anyone wants. Number two - I can't hold more than two drinks while sober - when drunk, I am a glass-dropper. You do not want five broken glasses (and five wasted drinks) on your conscience.
  • Don't give me a shot. I will drink it. And will not be responsible for my actions. Which could include puking. Just sayin'.
  • Don't drink too slowly if you are sharing a bottle of wine with me. It is annoying. Keep up please. Otherwise you won't get your fair share. That's not a threat, it's a promise.
  • Don't expect me to let you know I got home safe at the end of the night. As I tweeted this morning, I can remember to take out my contacts (AND clean them), brush my teeth, change into my PJs (or stip down to my underwear and put my dressing gown on a.k.a the "lazy change") . . . but I'm not so good at letting people know I'm still alive. (Hence the numerous missed calls in the early hours.)

What should people not do around you when you're drunk?

Thursday, 1 April 2010

TMI THURSDAY: SOME UNMENTIONABLES

TMI Thursday

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!


I have a double-whammer for TMI Thursday. Either one pretty mild on their own so I'm hoping by combining them, they'll make up for it.

TMI 1: You know how I have a habit of saying stuff in public that I shouldn't? Like someone asks me how I am, and I tell them I think I'm allergic to my thong. Or how last week, when I came back to my desk after a daydream in the bathrooms, I told my male colleagues how "I could have sat on that toilet seat forever."

Well, today I sort of got into one of those conversations where I KNEW I should stop talking and yet I didn't. Me and my friend were talking about diets/weight loss and I blurted out that I felt one of the main reasons I hadn't lost any weight this week was because I hadn't . . . um . . . did a poo in three days. My friend immediately made a "Whoa - TMI!" face, but I was on a roll now as I mentioned how I'd not had egg for breakfast that morning, but shredded wheat instead because I was convinced there was a poo that weighed AT LEAST a few pounds inside me and I needed to get it out.

"Um, try orange juice?" she suggested, clearly still wondering why I was still talking.

"Are you insane?" I asked. "Orange juice isn't allowed on my diet!"

Like, how DARE she suggest something that wasn't on my diet while I was talking about a pretty taboo subject in public IN FRONT OF HUMAN BEINGS.

"Um, lots of water then?" she tried again.

"Right, I'll try that," I nodded. It was only then I realised how I'd just had a three minute conversation about poo.

"Um, sorry about that. I'll go now." And I left the room.

Did I manage to poo? Well, that would be telling . . . ;)

(I can't believe you were even inappropriate enough to ASK!!!)


TMI 2: I had a salad for lunch that among other things contained natural yogurt and Philadelphia.

I only realised an hour later that I had managed to get at least ONE of those ingredients down the front of my black skirt.

And I'd actually been walking about the office with these marks in full view.

Any idea what these lovely white marks looked like?

I looked like I'd been doing a Monica Lewinsky on someone during my lunch break.

And I have no idea if anyone noticed or not.

If you did - SERIOUSLY, it was my lunch, nothing else.

And I DID NOT have sexual relations with my lunch.

That's just . . . weird!!!


Hmmm. Sorry. That was all just rubbish really. Oh well . . . Til next time!