Thursday, 31 July 2008


Why the post title? Well, I quite LITERALLY had my knickers in a twist today . . . and I didn't even notice until this afternoon. I know I dressed in a bit of a hurry this morning but that seriously takes the biscuit...

Otherwise, nothing's related. I am STILL attempting to pack and failing dismally. I have about ten dresses and a bikini packed and that's about it. I'm trying to leave packing The New Dress until the last minute because I don't want it to get mega crushed. I'm trying to decide what to do about getting to the airport - the original plan was that my friend would come and stay here tonight and we would go to the airport together in a taxi tomorrow, but she threw a spanner in the works last night and said why don't I go to hers and her dad will come and pick us up and take us there for free. But her flat is much further from the airport than mine, AND then we have to rely on her dad (who she doesn't live with) waking up and coming to get us. I'm tempted to say I'll just meet her at the airport tomorrow but then I have to trust her to wake up AND her dad to turn up. And she's blonder than I am . . .

So not sure what to do. All I know is that I really have to get my ass in gear, but instead I'm sitting here in my dressing gown with wet hair, legs which stink of fake tan (they need to catch up with the rest of me!) and an utter PIGSTY for a room, and a half-empty suitcase.

I also wanted to work out mobile blogging so I could share Barcelona but it doesn't seem to like me - it hasn't replied to my message. Boo :( and also I FINALLY got my replacement LG Prada phone today . . . and IT DOESN'T WORK EITHER! So now I'm stuck with my crap old phone, which I suppose is far less likely to get pickpocketed but still . . .

And that's the other thing. I TOTALLY freaked myself out about Barcelona earlier, making the mistake of looking at some site where the visitors detailed their experiences of being robbed/pick-pocketed/having their handbag nicked/etc. It made me extremely paranoid, not sure I'll bother leaving the hotel while we're away. Just kidding, of COURSE I will. But I'll be very wary, that's for sure.

Man, I got distracted mid-way through this post looking up more scams people pull in Barcelona to take advantage of tourists. I'm already planning to look up how to say "Go away" in Spanish for all these people who are going to try and ply me with things like flowers and stickers then try to steal my wallet. Luckily all my practice at being nasty to the professional charity workers and street salesmen in Glasgow should come in handy here . . . :)

FYI, check this out...

Wednesday, 30 July 2008


  • DON'T make a list of what you want to take beforehand. What's the point??? Isn't it more exciting if you realise once you've reached your destination that you've forgotten a) hairbrush b) toothpaste c) contact lens cleaner d) knickers or e) all of the above. No???

  • Pack under the influence. Isn't it more fun that way? After all, you're FAR more likely to a) trip over your suitcase twenty times b) pack even MORE haphazardly than normally c) think it's a good idea to take sparklers* d) pass out on your bed BEFORE you actually start the packing or e) all of the above. Go on, put some spark back in your life!

  • Use a massive suitcase. After all, the more space you have, the more likely you are to fill it (it's like some sort of law that the amount you need to take increases in direct proportion to the amount of space in your suitcase). And the lengthy wait in the check-in queue while you gnaw on your nails wondering if you're going to have to pay for excess baggage just heightens the excitement of the journey. Can you beat that rush of adrenalin?

  • Don't consider the weather of your destination when you're picking what outfits to take. Come on, it'll be FUN. Ski-suits and goggles in Cyprus, sundresses in the Alps, cocktail dress on a watersports holiday . . . Variation is the key, dah-ling!

  • Pack your passport in your suitcase. Just another way to heighten the fun at check-in . . .

  • Don't put liquids in your suitcase. Attempt to bring them in your carry-on instead. Same applies to tweezers, nail clippers and scissors. I bet you thought going through security was dull until now . . .

  • If you MUST put liquids in your suitcase, make sure the lid is slightly ajar. After all, you want to give your shampoo etc some breathing room (It's "worth it", after all). Otherwise it's just cruel . . . And, of course, what fun is it if your clothes remain clean and unstained in the suitcase?

  • Don't put a padlock on your suitcase. Doesn't it make it more FUN if there's the possibility you may be attacked by sniffer-hounds, dragged off by security and dumped in a foreign jail after someone attempts to PLANT something on you???

I haven't started packing yet. But I'm going to try my best NOT to follow the above rules. I may end up confusing myself though . . .

I bought a bee-yootiful dress today too - it can be found here. It was five pounds cheaper than advertised in the shop and although I didn't try it on at the time (I was quite literally trapped in my top - seriously. My flatmate had to help me out of it) when I got home I DID and it was just right. I LOVE it. Although it prompted me to send the following text to my friend . . .

I just bought the most beautiful dress in Miss Selfridge for Barcelona. It's quite tight around the boobs though so you're possibly gonna have to help me in and out of it. Sorry chick! x

You wanna see a certain someone rock Guitar Hero??? Go here . . .

Is it just me or does Usher look sooo much hotter when he is wearing a hat??? Otherwise, he just looks a bit odd . . .

*I have NEVER done this.

Tuesday, 29 July 2008


Who the fuck knows. I did originally have a post in mind, but now it has COMPLETELY slipped out of my head. Doncha hate that??? So what to talk about NOW???

There's the fact I had a shitty day from pretty much start to finish. But hey what's new, right? (Actually to be honest, it really WAS one of the worst work days I've had in a while - since the last one that is - but I suppose when you're feeling pressured for time the day actually goes FASTER, and during the afternoon I had the odd funny email to cheer me up and make me smile, thank god for that!)

Or I could talk about the bad news one of my friends gave me first thing this morning. It quite upset me - more for selfish reasons than anything else, admittedly, but I can sort of understand why she is doing it. I just don't want her to go elsewhere, is that so wrong??? I don't really like things to change!!! But oh well . . .

How about I tell you about the hotel I'll be staying at??? But I've not been there yet so how the fuck do I know??? Wait a minute, I can just direct you to the link - right. About. Here... :)

Or how about the weather??? That being said, I don't trust weather forecasts, especially when this one will probably change another three million times in the next few days . . .

I could tell you about my new diet - which involves me eating whatever I want, but not wasting calories on the bit I don't. So, for example, if I want to eat Skittles, I will. But I'll only eat the red, yellow and orange ones . . . cos they're my favourites! The green and purple ones get binned. Know it's a waste of food, but wasting calories on things I don't want pisses me off even more. Or for dinner tonight, I had a stuffed crust pizza, but only ate the stuffed crust part. Just think how many calories I saved . . . (And yes, I do realise that a SALAD would have saved me even MORE calories but where's the fun in that, eh?)

I thought if I rambled long enough I might find something to talk about. And something has struck me - Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer. I've been meaning to mention this for a while.

Do you think they'll actually last???

I LOVE Jen, don't get me wrong, I'm firmly in the Team Aniston camp, and find it difficult to view a photo of Angelina Jolie without wanting to punch it (unfortunately that hurts ME far more than it hurts her, especially if the magazine is perched on something solid at the time). But think how much her luck has changed - one moment Hollywood dream couple with Brad Pitt, next swinging (not literally!) from one dude to the next, all ending in disaster. So how is Mr Mayer different?

Let's face it, if anything, he's WORSE. I know a lot of people like his music, or think he's good looking, or both . . . but he's a player extraordinaire. Do we really believe Jen is any different from the other girls he claims to have fallen for in the past? I find it hard to believe, and from the sounds of it most of her friends are too. They think he's using her for fame (after all, she is far better known than he is), and that he's going to break her heart. Again.

And okay, every magazine runs articles about them, from them falling out over him being in touch with his exes, or her planning to get hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of surgery to keep looking younger for him - and we don't know what's true and what's just there to sell papers and magazines. But we have to go with the odds here. Jen has been hurt repeatedly. And John has hurt other girls repeatedly.

Perhaps he really DOES love Jennifer. I hope that's the case anyway. But I'm pretty cynical about these things, particularly in the celebrity world. Which reminds me what I was originally going to post about. But that'll have to keep for another time . . .

UPDATE: Almost forgot about Cheer-me-up-Tuesday but can't really be arsed trawling youtube or whatever looking for something, so look at this link instead. . . (Sorry, I'm recycling from a myspace blog but hey-ho!)

Monday, 28 July 2008


Perhaps not sunny for much longer though. It's been lovely and sunny all day, enough for me to curse being stuck in the office (although I did venture to the park at lunchtime and the botanic gardens after work so at least I got out a BIT) But when I look outside now it looks a little duller.

(Forecast looks good for Barcelona though . . .)

So today I've posted elsewhere as LCT asked me to do a guest-post in her absence. So feel free to pop by and take a look. Hope you like it!

And let's have another video, just because I can and cos I hadn't heard it in ages until now . . .

Sunday, 27 July 2008


Random quote of yesterday . . .

My sister: Do I look pregnant in this top?
Me: No!!!
(Brief pause)
Me: ARE you???
My sister: NO!!!!

I love the sunshine and it's BACK!!! Currently sitting on the floor with the window open, basking in it. Yes, I KNOW I could go outside and enjoy it, but why bother when it can come to me!!! Plus it means I can keep my laptop plugged in. Feeling my skin heating up quite nicely and sunshine is the best way to happiness as far as I'm concerned. Love it love it LOVE it. I REALLY need to move somewhere with more sunshine . . .

I just spent the past hour or so playing some weird word game on facebook where they give you six letters and you have to make as many words out of it as possible. It's nearly as addictive as the typing test . . . but I am USELESS at it. Absolutely PANTS. I hate not being good at something, I get quite frustrated and competitive with myself, so I've had to log off for the moment. Soon to return, I'm sure though! Also, I got Guitar Hero for the DS as a friend recommended it to me, so have spent a big chunk of the day playing that too. Man, I am SAAAAD . . .

I really enjoyed "Mamma Mia" but the Abba songs kinda put me off (oh, the irony!!!). I don't like Abba very much. That being said, it was more the slow, slushy ones that made me wish the film would be over. Everything else was fab, and the Greek Island it was filmed on looked absolutely amazing . . . although just a tad dangerous with all the cliff faces and rocks and stuff. Hmmm, guaranteed if I went there i would drunkenly walk off the edge of a cliff into the sea. You can see it happening, can't you???

Oh, and I'm now the proud owner of more gold jewellery than I have ever owned in my life as my Granda gave me and my sister free run of my Gran's jewelery box yesterday. He basically forced us to take most of it, saying it was no good to everyone else. So I have a lot of gold and precious stones now, and some cool retro brooches. It felt a bit weird to be pawing through her stuff but back when we were kids we would drape each other in her accessories when we were over and I believe she said we could have it one day, so I guess it was what she wanted really. My Granda seems to be holding up really well, and is more active than ever for someone in his eighties.

Anyway, I'm just sort of rambling, basically just posting for the sake of it. Think the sun is affecting my brain, but as long as it keeps me happy, I don't care!

So there's certain songs that always make me think of summer and I always HAVE to revisit on a sunny day . . . here's one of my favourites. I'm blasting this right now - makes me wish I owned a convertible so I could drive around with the top down playing this tune. Of course, I'd have to learn to DRIVE first too . . .

Saturday, 26 July 2008


Mixing your drinks is never a good idea. And mix them I did. Cava. vodka, Baileys and . . . water! Which makes it especially weird why my head is currently throbbing so much but there you go!

Maybe it's not a hangover, maybe it's my body punishing myself for not taking the opportunity to meet up with the London guy. I was texting his friend and he said they were out in the west end and I should come out, but unfortunately I was in the south side so stayed put. Oh well. Maybe it's been that long now that I just can't be bothered anymore. I may just end up a cat lady or something. Would need to buy a cat first though, or several.

As long as I have someone who buys me chocolate on a regular basis, I would probably be happy enough.

I'll be out tonight anyway and have said to the guy's friend to let me know where they are going and we might stop by, but not sure I would bother anyway. Too much water under the bridge now really.

So I'm looking forward to another night out anyway, but first I've got to do something I haven't done in a while - visit my Granda. Me and my sister decided to do so since my parents are on holiday right now and since, embarrassingly, we haven't seen him since my gran's funeral in March. I know, it's terrible, I can't really justify it apart from the fact that I have been so busy, and not really equipped to deal with the awkward situation. Also, I didn't really see them a lot anyway, probably only a couple of times a year after I moved out on my own, so it would be weird to me to suddenly start visiting all the time - although my Granda is a great guy. So neither me or my sis really know what we are going to say or what it is going to be like, but we need to do this I guess.

I think more than anything it will just remind me of my Gran's sudden death and the funeral and how brave my Granda was, and I just remember how hard that day was. Selfish I know, but there you go. That couple of months of my life was just a really shitty time and I don't want to go back there.

But anyway, I'll go and hopefully it'll be good and not awkward, and then I'll reward myself with the pictures (I think Mamma Mia! is what we're going to see) and some drinks and chat. And drunken fun. Sounds like a plan...

Oh and guess what???? No sunshine. :( Grrr.

Friday, 25 July 2008


Why is it that hot weather always seems to coincide with work days? According to the weathermen, the lovely yet sweltering weather we've plodded through since pretty much Monday is due to disappear magically over the weekend. Why, FOR ONCE, can't a heatwave coincide with a weekend??? It sucks so much to go and sit in the park for half an hour at lunchtime, seeing those with no jobs lying about there all day while we have to go back to the office and work to pay our taxes . . . to fund those with no jobs who are lazing about in the sunshine.

Oh well, I'll try not to let it bother me too much. Deep breaths. Okay - rant over, I think. Apart from the dude who had the cheek to tell me to cheer up on the way home. As you know this is one of my pet hates. I nearly flew for him, but instead i just sneered at him and walked on, inwardly fuming.

Time to get ready, I am due out shortly but I HAD to have a shower first, it's just so muggy that a forty five minute walk in jeans makes you instantly want to stand under a rush of cold water. I LOVE hot weather but when you are wearing clothes for the USUAL weather we get here, it can get a TEENSY bit too warm . . .

Enjoy your Fridays! :)

Thursday, 24 July 2008


Yesterday we had a fire alarm. Which only served to confirm my belief that firemen are NOT hot.

Yes, we are programmed to BELIEVE men im uniform in hot . . . But, nay, men in uniform around these parts are quite patently not.

They are, in fact, ugly. At least, the ones who happen to be on shift when our work fire alarm calls them to battle.

So not only do I have to endure twenty minutes of excruciating heat (that I'm NOT complaining about) with tons of insects diving into my cleavage (I'm complaining about THAT!) , I have to look at non-stereotypical fireman as well???

Man, it's a wonder I leave my bed in the morning . . .

Wednesday, 23 July 2008


Somehow at lunchtime today, talk got around to pregnancy. Actually, not so much pregnancy as the END part . . . labour. And about how much it would hurt. I guess sometimes you forget that a baby actually has to come OUT until you realise it's soon going to happen to someone.

We all agreed, first of all, that God HAD to have been a man.

Secondly we tried to think of alternative ways babies could be born. These mainly involved laying a baby egg LOOOONNNNG before it hatched. Then either having to SIT on it for nine months (which sounded feasible), or carrying it around in some sort of little incubator.

"Can you imagine," one of the girls said, "sitting at your desk with your little baby egg sitting next to you?"

"Are you kidding?" I asked in horror. "You couldn't bring it in here. Someone would hide it, or start using it to play catch, or . . . or EAT it!"

Scrambled baby eggs . . .

All a little horrified and disgusted at that mental image, we started talking about less awful things. Like caesareans . . .


So remember how I said that the toilets in my work were kinda yucky? Well, it got worse today . . . someone had actually BLED all over a toilet. Seriously, I have never seen anything like it. It was disgusting and I can't believe some of the places it had managed to go. How can ANYONE leave a toilet in such a state??? It beggars belief!!!


Oh, and apparently the London guy and I are going to be in the same country tomorrow, I've been reliably informed. I'm off out tomorrow night anyway so perhaps I'll run into him. Or perhaps not . . .

Tuesday, 22 July 2008


This is a message for a certain group of guys out there

The strangers walking past us and staring, or ogling us as we walk past, or shouting things from cars,, while we walk along cringing in embarrassment . . .

Why do you do it?

I don't mind the staring, as such. It's the comments, the shouting.

Why in the world is there any need for you to tell us how much you like our breasts while virtually sticking your head down our top, or telling us about your desire to grab our ass, or shouting out "have you got a licence for that wiggle?" Do you have to make loud comments within earshot to each other about how you much you want to DO us? Or think that shouting obscenities, or saying "Hello" in order to impress your friends then getting offended when we don't reply is going to make us LIKE you more? Er . . . no, you're strangers! Do you think we stand for this sort of behaviour from guys we actually KNOW??? (Well, sometimes, but that's besides the point).

The thing is this. Some of us don't mind being admired, we really don't. It's nice, don't get me wrong. Knowing someone has just eyed you up can cheer us up when we're feeling ugly . . . or make us feel even hotter when we're feeling on top of the world.

But here's the thing. And maybe it's just me. But I HATE when builders whistle on me, when guys shout out of cars at me. It makes me cringe to the very core of my being. I dread passing a construction site because of the shouting. But . . . if it doesn't happen . . . I get even more annoyed (such is the contadictory nature of females . . . )

Because it actually makes me wonder what's wrong with me?

So if you strangers just DIDN'T shout at us in the first place, didn't set that precedent, and only LOOKED, then even after we STOP being "worthy" of being looked at, at least we can still imagine you are.

Oh, and it's also worth remembering it might make you look like less of a chauvinistic, offensive pig in the first place . . .

Cheer-Me-Up Tuesday comes courtesy of two videos. Firstly one I think I showed on my previous blog but I think it's a great song so you're getting it again anyway!

And an example of what happens when being useless at chatting someone up goes HORRIBLY wrong . . .

Monday, 21 July 2008

"You Are Not My Usual Build...."

Hey yall this is Diana. I was supposed to blog here on Saturday, but i ended up going to my college roommates wedding 4 hours away for the weekend. A lot of stuff happened that weekend, and i know i'll be sharing on my blog at some point, but something else happened last night that i really need to rant about. I am not sure if this person even reads my blog, but if he does, it will be good that i'm about to write all this stuff on Polly's blog instead of my own!

before i start, just know that i am very pissy about this, and i probably will be cussing and emotional, and ranting. This all happened around 1 last night and i still haven't had a chance to digest it all. so i'm still at an emotional state of mind.


If you've read my blog then you know that i have recently gained a lot of weight. I am practically 6 ft so i don't look fat by any means. But i obviously don't look the same way i used to when i modeled.


i AM losing all the weight i've gained. I've lost 20 lbs of it so far. I know i have a lot more to go, but it's GOING to happen sometime in the very near future. And you know as well as i that when i am at my old weight, i am very skinny and dainty for a 6 ft tall person. At that point there wouldn't be a big build.

I listened to everything you said last night. I commend you for your honesty. I'm glad you kept talking about your ex because A) it gave me further insight into your brain, B) you were opening up to me and trust me with those thoughts, C) i got to realize that you probably aren't ready to open your heart in a fair way to another girl yet, D) it will give me a chance to re-evaluate my feelings.

When you got to the part about me not being your typical build, i have to say, in the immediate seconds after, i felt like you just took your hand and slapped my face as hard as you possibly could and then you took out your d*ck (can we type that on blogspot? not sure) and pissed all over me. After a couple minutes, i was praising you in my head for your honesty. I will not judge you for being honest with me, and i certainly won't act any different toward you b/c of it. I could have completely missed your point altogether. So until i get a chance to ask you about it, i have to assume that i very well could be assuming the wrong thing.

If your thinking that i left so soon after you said the 'build' are absolutely right. It was a shocker to me and i had to get out of there as soon as possible so i wouldn't say or do anything embarrassing. I was not upset by any means, and you didn't do anything wrong. I just didn't think you were like that.

If you look at all my past boyfriends you will find that there is no 'theme' to them. They are all very different looking. One was way shorter than me, one was really fat, one was a different race, one had a few missing teeth, one was extremely skinny..etc.. you get the point right? i've never had a look that i usually go for. I've been around vanity all my life b/c of all the modeling. I guess all that expossure made me realize it's not really all about the outside. Who gives a flying fuck if i'm not your typical build? Is that what is going to stop you from letting your thoughts and feelings take you to a place you might not expect? Let me tell you something W, you are not my usual look, b/c i don't fucking have a 'usual look'..i could honestly give two shits about it. There are things about your apperence that i don't like, or that turn me off..but those things are not going to act as a block in my brain. I will still be able to look past it. This is what i mean when i say i didn't think you were like that.

Anyway, thats enough of this topic! i do hope i have misunderstood you and you will eventually explain to me what you actually meant to say



PS. thank you for making me listen to all those Tool songs. The words are fantastic!


Hey Polly, thanks again for asking me to guest blog here. You know it's funny, i was actually nervous about it and didn't know what to write about, but i just said fuck it...and now there was soo much i could have written about! lol

alrghty, well goodbye everyone! take care


Some notable quotes from our four days in Northern Ireland. Firstly the ones which can just about be explained . . .

*"No I don't come with fries." (When I pretended I was so hungry I was going to eat A's arm)
* "The wonderbag of crap".
(M's bag)
*"Stop writhing on the floor - you're not Madonna!"
(Said by M to me - when you see the pics, you'll understand . . .)
* "I don't know you - but I like you."
(Said by a barman in Belfast after my friend M told him we'd spent the entire previous day playing Guitar Hero)
* "You have no hat on - why did you do that?"
(Same barman who was confused when A's friend ordered food then took his hat off so the bar guy couldn't find him)
* "Why don't you have a trampoline in your garden?" "Because I'm not eight."
(I was jealous of A's neighbours having a trampoline)

And the ones I can't explain . . .

*"Strong like russian babies"
* "I can't text in an accent"
* "Alcoholics are quitters."
* "Donkeys tend to swallow my hand."

There's more but I can't remember them. It was my former flatmates' idea to keep track of any interesting (to us) quotes that were said during the holiday. M has the written copy of them though, so that's the ones I remember off the top of my head, or the ones I put on my phone the day M forgot the pen!

Anyway, I had the best four days. I didn't really know what to expect from Northern Ireland really, but I knew once me, A and M were all reunited it was going to be mad and fun. We all used to live together (in the flat I still live in now) and had the best time together, getting drunk, mooning out the window at passersby, pretending to be pirates and making a snowman out of paper (his name was Bitchslap and he was the coolest - I think my landlord might have crushed him though). So I was looking forward to all three of us being in the same country again.

On the journey from Belfast airport to A's house, A told us how her mum had made sure we had everything we needed (her parents were away on holiday to Turkey) - a fully stocked fridge (food AND alcohol), shampoo, towels, shower gel ("In fact, she made sure she got you ANOTHER shower gel just in case you didn't like the other one") so we knew we weren't going to run out of necessities. Things were getting off to a good start . . .

The first full day we were there, we didn't get much exploring done. For one thing, it was pissing it down outside with rain (you can escape Scotland, but you can't escape the weather!) and for another, me and M had discovered Guitar Hero. I didn't expect to like it, but after 20 attempts at Pat Benetar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" (I'd got booed off the first nineteen times) I was hooked. Not because I was particularly good at it but because, as I said to the others, "my stage presence was immense." I clearly missed my calling as a guitarist. I became particularly addicted to THIS song by the end of the holiday . . .

We had a brief break from playing Guitar Hero to try out the Wii Fit but it didn't give us very encouraging news so we decided to return to the original game, which we were clearly far more equipped to deal with. After all, drinking alcohol from early on in the day goes better with being a rock star than it does with pretending to become fit and healthy. We ended up playing it on into the early hours of the morning.

On Friday, we ventured out of the house and into Belfast (my friend is from a village about seven miles outside of the city). Our plans to explore sort of turned into a bit of a pub crawl though, so we "explored" a few pubs and eventually ended up in a place with live music. We were expecting some sort of traditional folky stuff so were pleasantly surprised when the male and female on stage treated us to songs by Rihanna and Sam Sparro as well as a few old classics. When they found out they had two Glaswegians in their midst, they decided to make us feel welcome by constantly talking to us between songs, so by the time we left, we were local celebrities, with the natives coming up to our table to say hello and stare at us like we were some sort of exhibit. After that we went on the Belfast Wheel (which for some reason, I decided to nickname "The Wheel of Doom") and got to look at the city from above. That was kinda cool, part of me thinks that every city should have one. After a run for the bus (which we missed), we ended up getting a taxi back to the village and heading back to the Wii, via the local pub. We didn't stay in there long though - we had been under the impression that there was going to be karaoke, but this seemed to be a fallacy. Oh well . . . Guitar Hero filled the hole . . .

Saturday was Dublin day. It took us two hours forty minutes to get there by bus so it was a bit of an early start. But we were glad to see the weather was far nicer down there than it had been up North. After a whirlwind tour of some of the sights, a trip to a store filled with Irish "tat" (M and A both bought t-shirts with funny slogan's on it - A's said "Who's Your Paddy?"), and some traditional Irish food (well, we actually went to TGI's!) we headed off on the lookout for a pub in Temple Bar. I make that sound like a challenge . . . for those who have BEEN to Dublin (and possibly those that haven't!) you'll probably know that Temple Bar is FULL of pubs. We settled on one called The Vat Bar, where we proceeded to drink ourselves silly and then eat more food. I believe we were also taking random pictures of us dancing around the pillar which was next to our table, but I can't confirm or deny that until I see the photos. (Unfortunately the camera I ordered didn't arrive on time so I'm forced to rely on other people for pictures once again). We just managed to make the last viable bus back and I promptly passed out on the seat.

Yesterday we stayed in the village since we were going to have to head back to the airport at half six-ish. We went for a wander about, saw the village donkey (who nearly had a major "hee-haw" attack when he saw us) and ended up in the kid's swing park on the roundabout. My god, I have not been on a roundabout in years - I nearly fell off it! (And this was me sober!) After that we went on the climbing frame. I was sorely tempted to go on the slide to but refrained because 1) I was worried my ass would get stuck halfway down and 2) there were some eight year old boys in the park already giving us some strange looks. Later we had a barbeque in the garden - I've actually never had a barbeque before, believe it or not! - and finished off with some more Guitar Hero (of course!) before heading for the airport (oh and by the way Easyjet, I'm STILL not impressed with your service. The flight itself always seems to be okay, but it's the run up to it that always really pees me off. More on that another time.)

It's sad to be back, but I had such a great time; it totally surpassed my expectations, and I have a lot of great memories from my time over there. We're definitely planning to go back there in the near future, and it's made me even more excited for my upcoming Southern Ireland trips later on in the year. I've also got a long weekend in Barcelona to look forward to, so I'm a busy little bee at the moment . . . :)

Sunday, 20 July 2008


So I'm back now, safe and sound, my plane touched down about an hour or so ago. Belfast is the quickest flight I have ever had, you've basically been in the air for ten minutes when they announce the cabin crew should prepare for landing. Mental. Anyway, I'm kinda tired and wiped out from my trip - it's been a hectic few days of drinking, travelling about and . . . well, playing Guitar Hero on the Nintendo Wii. But the best time. Think it's time I head to bed.

Thanks to Chele and Lyla Lou for their posts, and still expecting one from Diana . . . where is it??? I'm waiting!!! (Sorry, don't have the energy to link to you all right now. Too much effort . . .)

Good night. :)

Thursday, 17 July 2008

My First Marriage Proposal

If I were to make a list of all the things I am jealous of on a daily basis I don't think I'd have any time to think. The top of my list today is that my fellow bloggy friend Paula is going to Ireland. Don't worry everyone, I'm sure she's coming back. Ok, maybe not, you never know, right? Maybe she'll meet an insanely perfect Irishman who will sweep her off her feet and she'll never come back. But in the meantime she's asked me to rant in her place. When I read her email I blushed. Me? Really? That's probably the sweetest thing anyone's asked me in so long!

(Oh yea, I guess I should Introduce myself). I'm Lyla, or Lyla Lou and I'm usually over here.

I brainstormed a few minutes and thought of the perfect humiliating story. And it's about an Irishman, so it's relevant!

A few years ago I was a regular, I mean I lived at, an Irish themed bar near my hometown. I loved it for it's cheap beer, old musty wooden smell, and super hot Irish employees. Pretty much everyone that worked there was legitimately from Ireland and I have a feeling some of them were not here completely legally. The main bartender was a hilarious older guy with an accent so thick you could only understand him when you were drunk. The back-up bartender was a middle aged Irish hottie with a crazy jealous girlfriend. She constantly entertained us by showing up nightly to scream and throw things at her boyfriend. But my favorite was one of the waiters. He was absolutely gorgeous with dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes and an accent that was so hot I would literally almost fall off my bar stool straining to hear him talk.

Back then I liked to think I seemed super cool in front of my hottie Irish waiter. I pictured myself as the 'fun, laid back' girl that could hold her liquor with the best of them. I'm sure he saw me as the annoying drunk girl who constantly hit on him. But he put up with me and was always sweet as sugar when I was there.

One night, after a lot of drinks(I was really thirsty this night), I overheard hottie Irish waiter talking to one of the bartenders about his status in the US. He was worried that he would have to go back to Ireland, as his VISA was almost up. Drunk me was overjoyed. I finally had my chance to make a real move.

I drunkenly leaned over, probably slurring and drooling and loudly informed him that I had the answer. All he'd have to do is marry me, and he'd be able to stay in the US as long as he wanted.

Well, this was years ago, and since I've never been married, you can probably guess what his answer was. He's still around and I still see him from time to time at that Irish bar. Over the years he's stayed just as hot as always, and my embarrassment has gone down...only slightly.

It makes me cringe to remember what a drunken mess I used to be. Actually, I still can be a drunken mess. But I think my hair has definitely improved. Maybe it's time to ask him again?

The futures holidays are for me.....

POST SOUNDTRACK: Futures by Zero 7

Hello, I am Chele, usually my blog is over at Tambourine Wonderland but my dearest Paula has asked me to guest blog here today. Though I have never met Paula, I dig her and think of her as a dear friend so of course I said yes. She also has the best humor and I love it when women make me laugh. (That might have come out wrong, but I will let it slip.)

I am seriously stuck with writers block, forgot to ask P for a topic to blog about as well so you will have to bear with wherever direction this post might take you. Kind of like a roller coaster ride in the dark, dont quite know whats coming.

For those who have never read my blog let me briefly introduce myself. I am a 28 year old Oriental Viking. Mom is the Oriental part, Dad is the Viking = me.
All my posts have soundtracks (started that recently) and the title is always a line from that song.
My writing is all over the place, it has no structure and I think that is my charm. The unexpected. I can be dead on heavy serious about really deep deep shit, then just blah and the out loud hilarious (yes I am) Like I said its like entering a wonderland with a thousand different rides. My worst habit is over now, will get get on with the program now,

I live in Bangkok, which is really the most exciting city to live in. I call it the New York of Asia. Of course I have never actually been to New York, so it would not be fair of me to make such a grand comparison.
This city never sleeps, diversity is found in every street and culture is presented in various ways.
You hear sounds of cars, motorcycles and people overlapping. The noise pollution is almost a symphony if you connect all the sounds together. Aromas from smelly water, weird smelly food to the most inviting delicious food will hint your nostrils at all hours. Its hard to describe, but it is really a city of its own. It will cast a spell on you, because once you are here you will never ever forget your Bangkok experience.

Here in Thailand people take superstition seriously, karma is not something one shall joke with.
People will seek palm readers, tarots, monks, astrologers, chart specialists; you name it, before they make a major decision. This is how it has always been.
I used to be very seduced by the whole art of fortune telling to the point it became unhealthy.
I wanted to know about my future, what would happen with my love life would I ever get married...and all the standard questions on a woman's mind.

I have seen and experienced many things that you might describe as new age.
Predictions have come true and I do have the deepest respect for such crafts if I may call it that.

Isnt strange though how all the good fortune tellers are these poor old people who seem to only own a camping chair and a fucked up table with 10 inch legs???
See my theory is, the more you tackle with destiny and what lies ahead, the worse it gets for you.
You are not supposed to know and open that future gate, it creates a shift in the universe.
(YES I read ALLOT of cartoons about sci-fi and I am science obsessed so it makes me even more geeky in the whole restore universal balance)

I don't really know if I am religious or atheist but I do believe in something. I go to church and do hail Marys when I feel all holy and what The Lord Jesus Christ (that said in Will Ferrell style) can offer me. Other days I feel more spiritual and will go to a temple and meditate to Hindu mantras, then when I feel to send out some karma to the world I go to the Buddhist temple, hear the monk chant and pray that I will get really rich. I cant really pick one, I mean there isn´t a rule that you shall only pick one GOD?? OK there is a rule like that, but that is just the Gods being narcissist.

I guess and I know that tapping with knowing what is in store for me just does not seems right.
Why are us women so attracted to knowing the future?
The last time I ever saw a fortune teller was in 2003.

Today I wondered if I traveled from the future and told myself what I would be doing with my life for the next 20 years, would I choose to listen?
Would YOU want to know, even when you could not change the outcome?

What if I dont like what I hear? Do I have the right to change the grand master plan?
You cant change it if it is already set right?
What are your views?

Well dear readers, that is all I had on my mind today. I am experiencing a block so I could not come up with anything more fun and spicy.

Wednesday, 16 July 2008


It's amazing that I'm 28 years old and still get excited when I'm going away to a different country, even if it's one only forty minutes away by plane. But I've never BEEN to Northern Ireland before. (That being said, I still get excited when I'm going to ENGLAND, so that's not really an excuse . . .)

To the woman carrying the white shirt on the hanger this morning while standing at a bus stop:
I'm assuming you were planning to change into the shirt when you got wherever you were going, or were giving it to someone else to wear, and wanted to keep it looking pristine. But weren't you worried about possible bird poo? I would have been. Next time maybe put it in some sort of covering too? And waving it around like some sort of flag isn't going to help matters. Neither is taking up the whole pavement area with your pacing.

Just a thought.

Okay, need to go finish packing. Bye-eeee!

Tuesday, 15 July 2008


I was in work fifteen minutes early today (we mistakenly thought there was a storm going on outside - I guess that's what happens when you don't look out of the window and are hearing things) and obviously wasn't going to do WORK until the dot of eight (the very IDEA!!!), so decided to finally stop all those email reminders from amazon marketplace and provide feedback on my most recent purchases. All thirty or so of them . . .

Now I am an EXPERT at buying things on places like ebay and amazon marketplace but the feedback part is my downfall. Not only can I not think of anything to say other than "fast delivery, product as described" (whether it's true or not), I also can't seem to work up the motivation to actually get around to the actual act of LEAVING the feedback. Hence the constant receiving of email reminders and mountain of feedback to leave once I do manage to venture to that area of the sites. I find it sooo monotonous. Sometimes the wicked side of me longs to give negative feedback just for the hell of it and say something like "book was rubbish". Not that you're really meant to give negative feedback anyway - apparently if you have any problems, you're meant to contact the seller first. Oh yeah, that'll be a big help if their only aim is to swindle people out of money!

The other day I was looking for funny links to put in my myspace blog when I came across this - what ebay-world would be like if people told the truth. Pretty funny. The feedback in particular made me laugh. This, combined, with my boring feedback episode earlier, made me wonder what feedback people would give on me, should they buy me on ebay. Okay, perhaps not ME, that's hardly realistic now. How about a Barbie sized doll (preferably WITH her proportions) which mimicked everything about me (bar the proportions, obviously!!!)? I can see the feedback now . . .

- Could not do ANYTHING with her hair, no matter how hard I tried. It was a COMPLETE MESS!

- When we took her out of her box in our living room, she looked around, asked where she was and started crying, saying she was lost. We gave her a map but she cried harder and said she had no sense of direction. What kinda crap doll is THAT???

+ She managed to turn even the most innocent of remarks into something dirty and/or offensive. What an AWESOME buy!!! A ++++

+ Great at tracking people down online, I managed to organise a whole reunion thanks to her finding every one of my school friends.

- A bit paranoid, she kept asking if her hips were big - and cried when I jokingly said "yes".

- A bit vain, she kept looking in the mirror.

+ I loved her arse! Would buy several more just to stare at it over and over again!*

+ Was a great help in the pub quiz - especially when the capital cities of the world circa 1988 came up. Handier than sneakily calling a friend on my mobile!

- Cried at "Beaches", the last episodes of "Friends" and "Sex and the City", any charity adverts involving a) people dying b) dogs being abused c) children being abused . . . in fact, she pretty much cried at everything. Got a bit annoying after a while.

- I liked most things about her but she SNORTS when she's laughing too hard. It was a bit offputting.

- Wouldn't let me watch my favourite film "Goodfellas". She made me watch "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" on repeat instead.

+ Actually, I now think "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" is my new favourite film, so an A+++ from me. Would thoroughly recommend (the film AND the doll . . .)

+Had a very fetching wardrobe of low cut tops. Niiiiiicccceee!!!

Actually, maybe I'm not that bad a purchase after all. Unfortunately, I ain't really for sale . . . ;)

And now for Cheer-Me-Up Tuesday, courtesy of a couple of "Father Ted" clips . . .

*I got a compliment on my arse earlier today so felt like throwing that one in . . . :)

Monday, 14 July 2008


Today started off fun, with me trying to explain to one of my friends about yesterday's dream, and how embarrassed I was to face the guy in question. "Although if anyone should be embarrassed really, it's HIM," I added. "After all, he told me he loved me . . . then CRIED!"

That did kinda put the whole thing in perspective. Okay, perhaps he couldn't control what he'd done in MY dream . . . but he still DID it! HA!!!

But anyway, since the whole dream, I've been thinking about relationships and what I'm looking for . . .

These days I'm kinda happy to be on my own. Most of the time anyway. Obviously, like I've said before, there's the odd time I'm lonely and wish I had someone to hug-and-more but I'm not someone who easily jumps from one relationship to another - for one thing, the repercussions of a possible rebound relationship worry me, but for another, I just find it hard to find someone I CLICK with. And I find it hard to compromise.

So since my dream the other night, I've been wondering what exactly it IS I'm looking for in a guy. What ticks all the right boxes?

First of all, I need someone I trust. That's why I find it hard to just hook up with someone. If it's not someone I already know, it would probably have to be someone that someone ELSE I know already knows, who could effectively vouch for them. Of course, I realise just because you know someone doesn't necessarily mean you can trust them one hundred per cent, but it seems like a start over a complete stranger, if you know what I mean!

Basically, cheats and liars need not apply (I'm naive, granted, but not THAT naive - I' d like to think I would see through them EVENTUALLY . . .)

Sense of humour is another must. But not only do they have to have a GOOD, nay, a GREAT sense of humour, their sense of humour has to be compatible with mine. I've had that in the past, and it was so good to know that someone found you funny; that you could find something that would make you want to pee yourself laughing and just KNOW that the other person would agree with your verdict. On the other hand, I've had the opposite too - like I said before, once one of the reasons I was given for being dumped was that I just wasn't funny. You know who you are - and thanks for that! If someone doesn't understand the irony of deliberately telling bad jokes, then to be perfectly honest, they DON'T deserve me. And FYI, quoting lines from Will Ferrell movies and "Family Guy" does not necessarily make someone funny . . .

I'd like someone who is a bit of a romantic, who would send me a nice text message or email, surprise me with little gifts, nothing expensive - it's the thought that counts, and the little things that matter really. Affectionate . . . well, that goes without saying, and while I'm not really into excessive Public Displays of Affection, I like holding hands and the odd show of affection. Nothing wrong with that . . . right? Someone who just tells me how they feel, who doesn't play games with me, and twist me and my emotions up in knots, wondering if I've got it all wrong and if they actually like me at all.

I'd prefer someone who isn't moody. That's odd, as in books and films it's always the moody complicated hero I find more attractive than the straightforward one, but in real life it's just a pain in the ass. If you can't make a random comment, for example, without the other person taking offence or jumping to conclusions, then what's the point. Also, I'M quite moody at times myself (I know that surprises you!) and there's only room for one bad mood in a relationship at any one time . . .

I don't like guys who do recreational drugs and am not fond of excessive smoking. I don't really approve of smoking at all, but can cope with social smokers - on the other hand, if you smoke 40 a day like one guy I went out with (and his dad died of lung cancer so he really should have known better), then it's gonna be like kissing an ashtray. Not that I've kissed many ashtrays (unless they have a particularly good line in flattery!) but you know what I mean! I prefer if they DO drink though . . . nothing worse than someone looking on disapprovingly and completely sober while I'm rolling about pissed.

Looks are obviously a consideration. But not the be all and end all and, like I've said before, I tend to fall for the personality first. That being said, I am probably not gonna give a complete ugger a chance. Sorry, but it's true. That being said, never say never . . . Dean Gaffney, you may still be in with a chance. (No, wait a minute, I forgot he hasn't got a decent personality either!)

I'm sure there's more . . . but that'll do for now. You think I'm demanding? Not as much so as this . . .

Anyway, bored of the topic now. Like I said, I'm not that fussed one way or the other right now, I have too much other stuff going on in my life. Time for a music break. Apparently this is the UK number one at the moment, courtesy of Dizzee Rascal and Calvin Harris. I have to say, I actually kinda like it . . .

Sunday, 13 July 2008


I have been known to have the weird dream on occasion but last night's was particularly odd.

I dreamt that this guy I know - who I don't particularly like - told me he had been secretly in love with me for ages. Now don't get me wrong, the guy in question isn't bad looking, and he's not like a horrible person or anything. He just rubs me up the wrong way, and is soooo not my type. It seems weird that all of the people I would dream about, it would be him. The whole revelation surprised me - even IN the dream, where the most silly of things can sometimes make sense at the time. And he was like seriously upset after he told me cos I didn't really know how to react as it was so unexpected - as in there was actually the odd TEAR involved!

But for some reason, rather than thinking he was being a total crybaby moron, I actually found this quite attractive - think it was the whole tortured hero complex. And eventually this culminated in me shagging him on the floor of the utility room in my parent's house!!! (I have absolutely no idea what I was doing there!)

So I woke up and it was about eight am this morning and all I could think was "What the fuck was THAT all about???" I kinda lay musing over it for a while, established I didn't have some sort of secret crush on this guy and that dreams don't have a literal meaning (ie. I may have also dreamed sometime last week that me and my ex were having sex - and that ain't gonna happen!) and fell back asleep . . .

Where I promptly entered part two of the same dream - the morning after! And he was still interested . . . and so was I. And the only person who knew about it was my sister.

I've only ever had a two part dream before and it was about me being with the Three Wise Men and travelling to Bethlehem to see the baby Jesus . . . and I was about eight at the time! The memories of the dreams that took place in the early hours of this morning are still pretty vivid and are majorly freaking me out. I KNOW I don't fancy this guy, but I am going to be really embarrassed next time I see him - I'm going to feel like we actually DID have sex.

It seemed so much EASIER in dreamland . . .

Saturday, 12 July 2008


I'm a bit at a loss as to what to post today but blogging can be a bit of an addiction and although I do miss the odd day, I'm loath to miss a day when I have nothing better to do. And I really don't. Basically I am so broke this month I'm pretty much FORCED to stay in this weekend. Boo. So I'm sitting here without a smidgen of make-up on (I know, that doesn't happen often!), dressed in pink velour pj bottoms and the black vest emblazoned with "Pretty Polly" in pink sequins which was the top made for me for the last night of the hen holiday (well what ELSE am I gonna use it for now???). I'm pretty bored (so much so that I just watched an ASHLEE SIMPSON video diary on TMF - now THERE'S boredom personified). I'm currently contemplating the following activities . . .

  • trying to get into the latest Marian Keye's novel (I'm finding it a bit hardgoing so far)
  • playing one of the two new (well, secondhand!) games I bought on amazon marketplace for my Nintendo DS last week
  • tidying my room (yes, I am STILL contemplating that particular option - and haven't got far)

So since I can't think of what to write about, I thought I'd post the songs that are currently on repeat in my world . . .

Just noticed there's a top 100 school disco anthems programme on The Hits right now. Oh well, doesn't look like anything else will be getting done for the rest of the day. I think I might need an intervention, so if anyone is nearby, please come save me from myself . . .

Friday, 11 July 2008


So it's the T in the Park festival this weekend.

When I was in my teens and still at school, this festival was held in Strathclyde Park, which was really close to where I grew up. When Oasis played on (I think!) the second year, I could hear them vaguely out of the bedroom window.

After the third year, they moved the entire festival to some massive field in the middle of nowhere. Go figure.

If T in the Park had remained in its original birthplace, I probably would have ventured there by now. But their new location is NOT do-able; it's not a twenty minute walk home, it's an hour DRIVE home. No thanks. Anyway, I am quite patently NOT a festival chick - and to be honest, I'm kinda proud of that fact. Don't get me wrong, I would have LOVED to have seen R.E.M, Kate Nash and The Ting Tings . . . but in the middle of nowhere? Having to CAMP??? Having to have GREASY HAIR for DAYS? Having to QUEUE TO PEE??? Nope, my idea of a NIGHTMARE. I don't think even the HOTTEST dude could convince me to go through that for him.

Of course, I didn't realise that Kelly Jones would be there this year (which is, to me, a bigger coup that when Keanu Reeves was in Strathclyde Park with his "band" back in the nineties when T in the Park still virtually took place in my hometown). My flatmate's sister is actually AT the festival and she phoned us while "Dakota" was being played - ohmygod, he sounded AMAZNG, although we obviously went straight for the important part, screaming down the phone "Is he looking HOT???" Me and my flatmate have argued over Kelly all night. I've claimed that, because I am in fact the single one, I should be entitled to him should he ever become available. SHE claims that since she has loved Stereophonics for years, SHE should be the one to have him. Fisticuffs were almost had. But I LOVE him too - is that fair??? Would you give up the hottest guy in the UK cos your friend liked him too??? Does it make me a bad person that I WOULDN'T???

Judge for yourself . . ,

Here's the video where my flatmate deems Kelly to be the hottest . . .

and MY personal favourite . . .

Thursday, 10 July 2008


My little sis often says to me, usually after we've sang word-for-word along with the latest pop song we've only heard three times previously, "Why is it I can remember the lyrics and tune to like a million songs, yet I can't remember the important stuff that actually matters???"

Okay, knowing the lyrics to tons of songs is pretty damn awesome, let's make that clear. But she's got a point. Why can I not remember the stuff that is actually important? Like where I put my passport. Or who won the last local election (or when it was, for that matter). Or what really important thing was first on my unwritten to-do list when I arrive at the office.

I can't remember my current mobile number (I've only had it for a year, give me a break!) but I can remember the dance moves to "Star Trekkin'" and "Wig Wam Bam" which we learned at a Pontins holiday camp as children? I can't for the life of me remember where I put my keys when I got home tonight but I can remember how many calories are in a Curly Wurly?

I can remember every lyric to "Especially For You" by Kylie and Jason despite the fact it was out in the late eighties and I haven't actually heard it in years. If someone asks me the capital city of, for example, the Ukraine or Argentina, I can answer "Kiev" or "Buenos Aires" in a heartbeat. I can quote you lines from "Friends" or "Anchorman", virtually on demand.

Yet the important stuff seemingly goes in one ear and out the other.

The memories of good times fade too, the ones you want to hang onto. Memories of spending time with a departed loved one, or a random grope with a guy you only just met(!!!) or the first kiss with a guy you really like. Even when you weren't drunk enough to forget, no matter how much you replay it in your head, the image gets fainter and fainter, leaving behind only a trace where you find yourself filling in the blanks, unsure whether or not the memory was correct or not, even if you can still remember the way you FELT at the time.

I think out of everything, it's the memories I hate to lose the most. You can replace keys or a passport - it's annoying, yes, but possible.

Memories aren't so easily replaced . . .

ps. Bye Kylie - I wish I'd got to see you when you were in Glasgow, cos by all accounts you were awesome. Maybe next time . . . :)

MAN . . .

. . . I talk bollocks when I'm pissed.

Can't even remember typing the previous post. To be perfectly honest, I can't really remember getting home last night. And now my head hurts. (And I have no painkillers. Dammit. Really have to stock up one of these days).

Anyway, gotta go to work now. (Another dammit.)

Possibly more later. If my messed up brain can think of anything else I want to say . . .

Wednesday, 9 July 2008

SO I'M DRUNK . . .

I could tell you the drunken threat of the day but that might ruin the suspense. Suffice to say I've had a fun, albeit drunken, night. I love my life. It rocks. What have the rest of you been up to tonight??? ;)

Tuesday, 8 July 2008


I always loathed maths in high school. I wasn't BAD at it, in fact I was better than they realised at first - they actually tried to move me up to the top section - I refused because all the guys I fancied were in my section; I just thought it was a bit of a waste. Who needs to work out angles of things or what a represents in the equation (a + b)/c =d? I'm sure some people use this knowledge later in life, but I certainly never have had to - and never wanted to. As far as I was concerned, the second I left school, that was that with the maths.

Which makes it especially odd to me why I'm finding Dr Kawashima's Brain Training so utterly addictive . . .

For the last month, I've only missed a day of it. And that was only because I was at that pub quiz with my sis and colleague and never made it home until nearly one in the morning (according to my sister anyway - as you'll recall, I don't actually REMEMBER getting home). Even the other night when I was drunk I passed out with the Nintendo DS in my hand - sometimes i do actually get better results when I'm drunk. But seriously, who would have thought mental arithmetic would be so much fun???

I tend to just stick to the training; I don't do the brain age check very often as I don't really like the tests you have to do for that - and I've currently got a brain age of 24 so don't want to screw that up. One day I had to answer the door to the Domino's delivery guy mid brain-age-check and ended up with a brain age of 78 . . . so I'm a bit wary of it ever since understandably!

I used to be addicted to the Sims 2, but that's rather fallen by the wayside now. In fact, I haven't popped by in so long, that the electricity must have been out in the hotel for MONTHS. Everyone must be stumbling around in the dark in Sims world. After I managed to defeat the aliens and Optimum Alfred (an admirable attempt if i say so myself - especially after I spent ages trying to pluck up the courage to face them and telling my boyfriend at the time that I switched the DS off everytime they appeared on screen), I rather lost interest and turned my attention to Supermario instead. But Brain Training has taken over now as the new favourite. And you know, I actually feel like it's making a difference. I feel like my brain feels a bit less fuzzy now.

See? Sometimes computer games can be good for you!!! Just like the way facebook is helping me type faster with it's typing test (I believe I'm at 97 words a minute now, although that's obviously my personal best - not my average) and making me feel brainier with the IQ test . . . And then there's the Nintendo Wii which can help you to exercise (and next on my purchase list!) What the heck is next???? The mind boggles . . .

Anyway, given the day it is (ie Tuesday), I leave you with the first couple of scenes from one of my favourite ever comedies . . .

Monday, 7 July 2008


A taster of what is to come . . .

So my plan for a nineties themed bar/nightclub came about when me and my friend V were in the EIGHTIES themed bar Reflex back in March or April. Back then, the idea wasn't even a glimmer in my eye. I had said to my sister, I think, a while before, that if I ever won a massive amount on the lottery one thing I would want to do was own a bar. Really just because I wanted somewhere to hang out on a regular basis, but whatever! When I mentioned it to my old flatmate M she instantly asked if she could manage it. Of course she could, because this was the little world inside my head, where no interviews etc take place, I just hand out jobs like candy. And to be honest, I think M would make a GREAT bar manager.

Anyway, at that point my idea had no theme. Until the night of Reflex - when "Ice Ice Baby" came on. Instantly, me and V were in a bit of a quandary. Wasn't that a NINETIES tune??? All the same we danced along and mouthed the words along with everyone else. The following day, me and V had a heated debate about Vanilla Ice's inclusion in an eighties themed bar (yes, we really have nothing better to do with our time), surfing the net to try and see who could win the argument. Turns out although the song wasn't released until the nineties, it was ON an album which came out in '89. So really we were BOTH right.

But that got me thinking. Wouldn't it be cool to own a bar which played nineties music? I mean, think of the scope. There's Brit-pop, boybands, girlbands, boy/girl bands (I mean like S Club 7, not trannies - although I'm sure there probably was those too), cheese, hip-hop - EVERYTHING!!! One minute we could be playing "Barbie Girl" by Aqua, the next "Roll With It' by Oasis. The music could go in a heartbeat from "Spice Up Your Life" to "Smells Like Teen Spirit". It would be even more random than a night out at The Garage or your local student union. BUT IT WOULD ALL BE FROM THE NINETIES!!!

So in my spare time I like to occasionally indulge my nineties theme bar fantasy. I haven't gone as far as to imagine what it would LOOK like (with me at the design helm, it would probably end up looking like some kind of pimp's tea party . . . on acid!), but I imagine other things about it. Like the drinks - there would be special cocktails named after classic songs. "C'est La Vie", "Doctor Jones", "Sleeping Satellite", "Wonderwall" and so on . . . I'm not sure what would go in them (I'm not exactly a dab hand at making cocktails either, unless you call blending Baileys and ice expertise!) but they would all taste fabulous, of course, and get everyone good and drunk.

And then the other activities you could do other than drink and dance . . . there would be pool tables and - wait for it! - table tennis!!! (How much have I always wanted to go to a pub and play table tennis??? It's like one of my dreams come true). "Retro" computer games to play like Supermario and Sonic the Hedgehog. I also quite fancied a trampoline and some swingball sets but not sure if they wouldn't be a little lethal when drink was involved. Someone could seriously get hurt I suppose and that wouldn't exactly help business . . .

My bar would be the most amazing bar in the world. People would be flocking there IN THEIR DROVES. And once I had my Glasgow one up and running, I would turn my attention elsewhere. First to perhaps the Canary Islands and Spanish mainland, where drunken Scots would see my bar as their home from home. Then to other British cities. Then eventually I would take over the world . . .

Yes, my wildest dreams are fairly elaborate. I'm a lot more ambitious in my imagination than in real life, I guess.

So what do you think? Would you want to come hang out at my nineties theme bar??

And the most important question of all . . .



I've seriously barely slept at all today.

I'm so tired, I've spent the whole night tossing and turning, my eyes hurt and so does my head. I look like shit - no amount of make-up is covering THIS up. I feel completely out of sorts and disoriented. I often survive on a few hours sleep but I honestly don't feel like I got more than an hour in total last night. Everytime I got to sleep, something woke me immediately back up again and then I would struggle to fall back asleep again.

I'm so exhausted I feel like crying.

I feel like I may fall asleep at my desk today.

Sunday, 6 July 2008


You ever get one of those feelings where you just can't settle? My stomach feels all twisted in knots and I can't seem to relax, no matter how much I want to. I hate that feeling, and I haven't had it in quite some time, so don't really know how to cope with it.

I'm not sure what's wrong with me either, or why I'm feeling like this. I've been wanting to have a nice chilled out day and enjoy the thrill of not really having anything to do . . . but instead I just feel kinda rubbish. It's a bit of a letdown really.

Perhaps I should tidy my room or something. It's long overdue after all . . .


Last night I did something a little bit new for me - I went for an Indian buffet. But this was no ordinary buffet - this was an all-you-cam-eat-AND-DRINK-for-two-hours-buffet. All for the grand cost of seventeen pounds ninety five. I mean, come on, how can you resist that??? (Probably you could resist quite easily if you were classy but I quite patently am not, and can't resist a bargain, so there you go!)

I think I managed about five glasses of wine, which I was fairly proud of - but everyone else outdrunk me. We made sure we would know when the two hours were up and as the last ten minutes or so closed in, suddenly there was a a lot of downing and slamming empty glssses down on the table as a demand for a refill. As a result, I think everyone was pretty drunk. A good night was had by all though and after I got home, via a couple of pubs, I passed out on my sofa with the laptop on my knee. I have no idea what I was planning to look up - I think I fell asleep while I was waiting for it to load. I woke up at five in the morning fully dressed, contact lenses still in, full face of make up still on . . . man, I was virtually ready to go out again!!! :)

I'm suffering a bit now though . . .

Oh yeah, and here's my complaint of the day (come on, would it really be a proper day without SOME form of complaint from me???) What the HECK are the ads on facebook doing to me? It clearly picks up the age and relationship status in my profile and then taunts me with a picture of a good looking man with a caption above it that reads "28 and still single?" It's an advert for dating direct or something like that. Grrr. I think it's the inclusion of the word "still" that fucks me off so much. What, are they trying to imply I'm some sort of old maid, destined to be left on the shelf forever??? That pisses me off bigtime. Does anyone else get this? Is there a way to get rid of adverts on facebook or change them???

Oh yes, and since I'm not really up to being my usual HILARIOUS self today (yep, cos you know it's true!!!), perhaps go stop by this post at A Mask To Hide Behind today - it made me laugh!

Saturday, 5 July 2008


So because we work on flexi-time, but cover has to be provided so that other departments can contact us, our department in work has a five o'clock rota. Every day, one person has to stay until five. It can be a bit of a pain sometimes when you just want to rush out the door at four (and that hour can make all the difference to the length of your leisure time) but there's enough of us so that we only have to do it every couple of weeks. Simple enough, right?

Except the person who made up the rota this time managed to leave last week off the rota. So I was down for friday THIS week but due to the fact there had been no last week's rota, I felt obliged to do LAST week's late finish instead. I discussed this with one of my colleagues, as no one else appeared to notice the hole in the rota, and sje saod she was taking it to mean that we were now following NEXT week's rota, which I was not on. So yesterday I left at four as usual.

After I got home though, I worried that maybe no one else had understood that, so later on I decided to check my work email. Only to find a cheeky email from ANOTHER collaague basically asking me where I was cos I should be there. Now he'd sent this to me at twenty past four, and it must have been quite obvious I was away - what did he hope to accomplish as in theory I wasn't going to get it until Monday. I got really angry imagining him bitching about me to whoever was left in the office so I replied back with a similarlu cheeky email saying that in case he hadn't notice, last week's rota had been missing and I had done my five i'clock finish last week instead and that it wasn't fair to expect me to do it two Fridays in a row. I also finished off by saying that if he had any issues with this, he should make sure the problem with the rota was sorted.

Seriously, this made me so mad. I quite often have to cover other people's late finish and I also quite often OFFER to cover for some people, rarely getting the same in return. On top of that nearly every time I AM on the rota, someone else is voluntarily staying until five anyway and turns to me around about quarter to five and says "Oh P, i'm going to be here until five anyway if you want to go" (which makes me want to shout "Couldn't you have told me that at four?") It's not my fault that there was a mistake with the rota

I don'r regret sending that email, don't get me wrong. The only thing I DO regret is the fact I sent it at eleven o'clock on a Friday night. Because it makes me look like SUCH a saddo . . .

UPDATE: I'm actually feeling really bad about this now. Not cos he didn't deserve it, cos he did. But I don't want to start world war 3 in the office just because something went wrong along the system of communication. To be honest, I was in a bad mood last night and pretty much ANYONE who said anything to me I didn't like would have got short shrift, so I'm thinking maybe I should send a second apologetic email. No?

Friday, 4 July 2008


So I've not done a meme in AGES but L.C.T. has tagged me and I was at a bit of a blank as to what to post about today (with the exception of a rant which has been building up in me all day, which I'm choosing to take the high road and ignore) so here goes . . .

Eight Things I'm Passionate About

1.Music – I love it. Listening to it, not playing it. I can't play anything (very basic piano, violin and recorder do not a musician make!), I can't really sing either (although me and a bloke in work did a bit of a duet in the print room today – we're joking about making it a regular thing. This week “Hello”, next week “Especially for You” . . .). But I said all about why I like music in my blog the other day, so no point in revisiting it again . . .
2.Family – I am going to copy LCT and go for family too. My mum and my sister in particular are really special to me, and I'm very close to them.
3.Friends. - Yeah I am actually copying you again! I don't really have a circle of friends that I grew up with, my oldest friends these days date back to my university years. But I have tons of friends spread out all over, and from different times in my life and they all mean a lot to me. I hate losing friends – it's happened a few times and always hurts a lot. One of the most important friendships I developed with someone was lost to me a while back, and I still mourn that friendship because it meant so much to me. But there you go . . .
4.Clothes – it sounds sad, I know, but I absolutely LOVE clothes – I'm not a massive follower of fashion, tending to opt for what suits me, but I do have absolutely TONS of them. Yet I constantly find myself saying “I have nothing to wear” and actually meaning it. My favourite part of buying clothes is when I get them home afterwards and can remove them from their bags and spend some time with them, trying them on, trying to work out what they would look good with and so on. How sad eh???
5.Alcohol – once again, do I really need to go further into this???
6.Books – I absolutely LOVE reading – and I particularly love receiving a package of brand new books off amazon or sites like that. I love to take out the books, examine them, read the blurb on the back, scan the first few pages, line them up in the order I want to read them . . . Once again, sad, I know!!!
7.Writing – I have always wanted to write a novel. In fact, when I was a kid, I wrote TONS of them – they weren't published but that's not important. I still love writing now, be it reviews, or blogs, or short stories. My aim is eventually to be a properly published writer, but my new years resolution to write a book this year is kinda flagging already. As in, I haven't even STARTED . . .
8.Food – There is so much I could mention. Pizza and chocolate, of course. Pasta – particularly spaghetti carbonara and spaghetti bolognese. Most cheese related items. Bread bread and more bread. I need to stop now cos I'm getting hungry . . .

Eight things I want to do before I die:

1.Win the lottery
2.Open a 90's themed bar with the money (more on that to come soon, I promise)
3.Have several novels published
4.Be on tv (and not because I've done something bad or been murdered)
5.Manage to throw a decent meal together . . . FROM SCRATCH!!!
6.Bought a mansion (or at the very least some sort of flat)
7.Tried some sort of extreme sport (preferably the least extreme one)
8.Found a way to live forever

Eight things I say often:

1.“pure” (as in “it was pure amazing” - in other words, there's absolutely no reason for me to put that word in! It's a bit of a Scottish thing . . . )
2.“for fuck's sake!”
3.“Ola” (a habit I picked up in Spain – not due to Spaniards, just cos the girls I was with kept doing it)
4.Random quotes from “Friends”
5.“I'm BORED!”
6.“Beef!” (I used to say this a lot more though)
7.“I NEED a drink!”
8.The c word (and YES, I know it's bad . . .)

Eight books I’ve read recently:

1.Thanks for Nothing, Nick Maxwell – Debbie Carbin
2.The Movie Girl – Kate Lace
3.The Summer of Secrets – Martina Reilly
4.The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
5.Stupid and Contagious – Caprice Crane
6.Spar Wars – Chris Manby
7.The Personal Shopper – Carmen Reid
8.Reality Check – AM Goldsher

Eight Movies I have seen Eight times:

2.Girls Just Want To Have Fun
3.13 Going On 30
4.A Time To Kill
5.Scary Movie
6.Four Weddings and a Funeral
8.Legally Blonde

Eight people who should do this meme:

I have to think of EIGHT people??? Man!! Okay, let's think . . .

1. Chele
2. Mal
3. Meghan
4. Lyla Lou
5. Jenn
6. Amy xxoo
7. Laundramatic
8. Skinny Girl

If you've already done it or don't want to though, please don't feel obliged!!!! :)

And, to leave you, here's a song that I just saw on The Hits music channel and that I loved circa 1999 . . .

Thursday, 3 July 2008


I'm meant to be on a health kick.

I call it that, rather than a diet, to make it seem more feasible. The word "diet" conjures up images of starvation, faddy food, punishing yourself with exercise, and basically denying yourself everything you might remotely like - and also, if you use that word in front of others, they instantly start reassuring you that you categorically do not need to lose weight. "For God's sake, there's more meat on a butcher's pencil!" some might say (and HAVE said). Hmmm, well I can understand you telling Victoria Beckham or Nicole Richie they don't need to lose weight but considering I'm a good two stone heavier than them, I think I KNOW when I need to lose weight and when I don't.

The problem is in my head, I think. For I find it virtually impossible to deny myself. Pretty much ANYTHING. Apart from one diet seven years ago, when I did lose a huge amount of weight, I've just never had the willpower to stick to it. Chocolate is just too yummy - the way it melts in your mouth, coats your tongue in it's sugary milky goodness . . . I'm actually virtually salivating at the thought. They (the elusive "they") say that fruit makes a good substitute if you are craving something sweet. I (the actual me) say "b0llocks to that". A tangerine or handful of grapes is no substitute for Green & Blacks or Lindt chocolate.

Pizza and alcohol are my other two main vices when it comes to food and drink. Some days I crave a Dominos pizza like you wouldn't believe - usually I end up feeling horrible after my binge though. Remarkably, I actually managed to not drink for three days of this week - in a row. This is quite an achievement for me. Last night, however, I fell off the wagon in a major way for a Wednesday night staying in, and consumed a bottle of chardonnay which I only started drinking fairly late in the evening (and therefore was still drinking it after midnight). Let's face it though - I hadn't had alcohol for a couple of days - I deserved a reward surely? Isn't it logical that I rewarded myself with the very thing I'd been abstaining from? No?

Me and my flatmate are meant to be motivating each other. You know, cooking healthy food, doing an exercise dvd every day - they always say these things are easier if you have someone in it with you. It's not really working - for neither of us are ever up for getting fit or eating salad at the same time, and we're both so easily led that if one of us says "I can't be bothered tonight, let's sit on our arse and order a curry" the other isn't going to put up much of a fight. That being said, when we actually start DOING the fitness dvd we usually have a good laugh and push each other to finish it, but it's the getting started, along with the not eating crap thing, that is just impossible much of the time.

I can't resist the temptation of curling up on the couch with my pizza, chocolate and alcohol over the distinctly less appealing idea of eating some fish and salad and working out. What one is more fun? It's a no-brainer for me - the couch and junk food wins every time.

Even tonight - a TGI Fridays night where wine and cocktails won out over water, where "just going to have the one course" was beaten by "2 courses for less than a tenner" and where it seemed like a good idea to have an ice cream laden cocktail as dessert . . . you know, to SAVE calories. Hmmm . . .

Did I mention I'm drunk? Could you tell?

I'm good at covering it up, aren't I . . .?



It's nearly two in the morning yet I can't sleep.

I can't pinpoint the exact reason, not to the exact degree. But I think when it gets to this time and it's the middle of the night and I'm still awake . . . that I realise just how alone I am.

A couple of nights ago, for example, I was only asleep (finally) for about twenty minutes when I was forced awake by a horrible nightmare where I was basically killed. You know, one of those ones where you even know WITHIN the dream you should wake yourself up cos otherwise, according to urban legend, you WILL die unless you stop it.

And as I lay here, panicking, feeling like I wanted to cry, and wondering if the dream was a sign that my death was imminent, I realised just how much I wished there was someone there next to me, ready to hand out comfort and hugs.

But there wasn't. I was all alone. To the extent that I had to actually switch my bedside lamp on to ensure the spooky shadows I could see were just my crappy vision's shitty improvisations of future murder, rather than simply shadows caused by the mess of my room.

It took me a long time to get back to sleep afterwards.

And I guess it'll probably take me a while to sleep tonight too . . .

Wednesday, 2 July 2008


Spotted outside St Enoch Shopping Centre earlier today . . .

Dodgy looking woman dressed in tight fitting jeans and an ill fitting black leather crop top which tied at the back and illicited many "oh my god, what the FUCK is she wearing?" comments from passersby. Not only did she have slightly too much of a muffin top to pull it off, but her fake-tanned skin had more than a hint of the "just been on the sunbed and suffering" look to it.

But I would have just called it bad fashion sense had the following not happened . . .

She wandered in front of us to the top of the stairs overlooking St Enoch Square, where several workies were sitting. She is probably the type of person who would have got comments from this type normally but she slightly pre-empted that by posing in what I assume she thought was a seductive way and then shouting out:


before executing a twirl for them.

(Bear in mind this is Glasgow at the rush hour - there's people aplenty about.)

Guys didn't know what to say. Me and my friend were trying hard not to piss ourselves laughing as she walked away muttering to herself "Thank God! I've got a job FINALLY! I can't believe it, I can relax now."

I can't help but wonder what kind of job. Judging by her behaviour and the way she was dressed though, I'm gonna have to opt for the stripper/lapdancer combo . . .

And on an entirely unrelated subject (apart from the fact she's perhaps a "lady who be livin' it up") I've been thinking about this song all day for some reason so here you are . . .

Tuesday, 1 July 2008


First of all, thanks to Heidi for guest-posting on my blog yesterday. My post at hers got a little delayed (lost in cyberspace, you could say) so PLEASE check it out now if you can! I'd be very grateful. Pretty please??? :) And now onto the subject of the day . . .

When music is playing, sometimes I feel like nothing can hurt me.

Armed with my mp3 player*, a long walk to work on my own seems much less boring. Not only does the music put a spring in my step, make me step it up a gear, but it makes me want to break out into a dance in the middle of the pavement, wishing there were four or five others behind me so we could spontaneously perform an obviously choreographed routine like something out of "Fame". Without the singing part, obviously. I can't sing. (Not sure I can DANCE either, but there you go!)

Sometimes I also make up music videos in my head as I walk. For example, I made one for "Piece of Me" by Britney. I was quite disappointed they didn't somehow psychically syphon my ideas out from my head via the earphones on my sony walkman and use MY video concept - it was far better than the one they DID use.

When I'm angry I'll blast Kelly Clarkson in my ears and indulge the rage, taking pleasure in my fury as I stalk along the street. When I'm feeling blue, I'll cheer myself up with some type of "I am woman, hear me roar!" tune - Destiny's Child is usually good for that. When I'm half asleep, I can invigorate myself with something upbeat, or something that makes me want to shake my ass. (This morning, the tune which did that was "Pump It" by the Black Eyed Peas). I tend to save the songs that make me want to cry and wail for my alone-time, when I can truly revel in my depression (although I don't like to do that often these days) - after all, no one wants to see someone walking down the street with tears running down their face.

The other advantage of listening to music is that when you walk past workmen, you can block out their lewd comments. It's all very "La la la la, I can't hear you!" but also very satisfying. The other time this comes in useful is when those people who want you to pay ridiculous money for something not worth ot, or try to get you to sign up for montly donations try to lure you in with their false promises - I just point at my ear phones, mouth "What?", shake my head and walk on. Usually gets the point across.

So music is a healer and a help.

Of course, if I have headphones in I'm probably more liable to miss the double decker bus heading for me.

I guess it can be dangerous too . . .

UPDATE: Oops sorry, I almost forgot about Cheer-Me-Up Tuesday! This is courtesy of "Balls of Steel". A little infantile, but I like it . . .

*I don't own an ipod, which is why I say mp3 player. I have a Sony Walkman (you may already know this if you didn't skip to the footnote) It is NOT an actual walkman. It is an MP3 player.