Tuesday, 31 March 2009

ZOMBIE . . .

At the moment, I feel like one of the walking dead. I am LITERALLY dead on my feet.

For over two weeks now, since that first random Sunday night spent chatting online until it was practically daylight, I have survived on hardly any sleep. Several nights have resulted in me passing out (although that's been more due to drunkenness than anything else) cold rather than falling asleep. Other nights I've just been awake until the small hours because I simply can't sleep . . . DESPITE THE FACT I WAS EXHAUSTED ALL DAY!!!

Hopefully I can catch up on a bit of shut-eye this weekend. And a couple of days after that I'll have six days straight off in a row over the Easter weekend to try and recharge my batteries properly.

Lack of sleep means my concentration is shot, and my brain feels woolly. Therefore I have been decidedly lacking in inspiration. And I guess at the moment, I've had other things on my mind. :)

But normal service should resume as soon as I have time to catch a breath and actually get my head around the events of the past fortnight. It feels like there's a lot going on - both in my own life, and also in the lives of those around me - and I'm struggling to keep up.

On an unrelated subject, when was the last time you experienced THIS type of excitement???

Saturday, 28 March 2009


When he comes back from the toilet, DO NOT under any circumstances ask him if any other men were looking at his penis!

Frankly, it's just rude.

And embarrassing.

Which is probably why I mentally blocked it out until I was reminded of it.


Thursday, 26 March 2009


  • Facebook is a great way to catch up with old friends
  • It is not always advisable to decide to use the chat function on Facebook to chat to aforementioned old friends and end up playing drinking games (or trying to).
  • It is also not necessarily advisable to decide to do this on a Sunday night and end up drunkenly rambling online at half four on a Monday morning when you need to be up in less than two hours.
  • Drinking (online or not) with someone you used to like in high school leads to drunken confessions . . . such as the fact that you DID like them in high school!
  • This isn't necessarily a bad thing.
  • Sometimes you realise that the feelings you had might not have been unrequited after all.
  • But there's nothing you can do about it now.
  • Or is there?
  • Trying to choose a venue for a date is fairly stressful.
  • Drinking BEFORE aforementioned date in order to be relaxed means that you may be rather drunk and not remember chunks of the night.
  • It may also result in you drunkenly making the first move - actually "pouncing" may be a more appropriate verb in this case . . .
  • Apparently I haven't changed all that much since high school (???)
  • It may be wise to not say silly things that you usually do without thinking. Such as, when the guy comes back from the bathroom, asking him if he had a nice pee.
  • If he laughs and actually responds to the bizarre query, rather than running for the hills or looking at you like you're a psycho, maybe there's hope.
  • Having conversations about what people from school are now like is actually pretty fun.
  • As is hearing gossip that you may have missed from back in those days.
  • Stealing chocolate bars is not a good idea. (Getting caught? Even worse. Luckily, I didn't.)
  • Having two dates in less than a week is decidedly unusual for me. But I liked it.
  • I am still smiling.
  • I even smiled (on the inside) when it was basically implied I had done no work today. Which couldn't be further from the truth and normally the very injustice of it all would mean that my anger would still be bubbling now.
  • But it isn't.
  • I'm over it.
  • Who knows what's next, or what may happen. I don't have a fucking CLUE.
  • Life is DEFINITELY more unpredictable than I ever quite realised . . .

Monday, 23 March 2009


Something weird has happened.

For the first time in a long time, I feel PROPERLY happy.

I actually find it hard to stop smiling.

Things aren't getting to me the way they usually do.

It's obviously a NICE feeling.

Very unsettling though . . .

Saturday, 21 March 2009


Sometimes I really do wonder why I put myself through the whole getting drunk thing. Because as much fun as it seems at the time, I always feel so crap the next day that it hardly seems worth the fun part.

Take last night, for example. A guy I work with was having a leaving night. It was a GORGEOUS day (considering it's March in Scotland, the weather has been great recently - we even sat in the park at lunchtime the other day!) so we headed for McPhabbs since there's outdoor seats there. Okay, so it kinda seemed like we were sitting in a car park for a big chunk of the afternoon but it's always nice to have a day where you CAN sit outside and drink! After no one could stand the cold anymore (it wasn't THAT warm, after all) we headed indoors where it appeared that the lead singer of the band Del Amitri was dj-ing. Although I'm still not sure if it was definitely him or not.

After that, we headed elsewhere, but the place we were planning to go had a private party going on, so we ended up in a somewhat dodgy pub called The Pewter Pot. Hmmm. It was slightly scary. By this point, I was absolutely BLAZING!!! When it closed, there was talk of heading to someone's flat on the southside but that seemed kinda pointless to me since I lived five minutes around the corner from this pub, so I headed home.

Good thing I did because my hangover as it IS is immense! The plan was to go into work at six am and do a seven hour OT shift. In reality, I woke at ten past five to a text from my flatmate asking if I was up, realised I was in no way, shape or form capable of doing any work, and replied saying I would have to go in tomorrow instead cos it wasn't happening today!

I managed to fall back asleep but woke at nine with a pounding headache and couldn't get back to sleep. I kept thinking I wanted to puke, but nothing happened. I ate an ice lolly (sometimes that helps) and then some cheese on toast (melted cheese also sometimes helps) and I STILL felt bad. Now I feel slightly better but still nowhere near normal. It sucks.

I hate hangovers. I especially hate TODAY'S hangover.

Yet I had a great night last night.

Hangovers are obviously a way of punishing you for having a good time.

And for drinking too much, of course . . .

Thursday, 19 March 2009

WELL . . .

You know how sometimes something happens and you think - "I never even expected that," and you honestly mean it?

Well, that's pretty much happened to me. Something that I never had even thought about happening even four days ago happened to me tonight.

And now . . . I have apparently got a date on Saturday with a guy I haven't seen for ten years or so. A guy who I used to REALLY fancy in high school.

I am soooo nervous . . .

Tuesday, 17 March 2009


Sorry for the lack of updates . . . but I'm going to give you something I found funny in the last few days. In fact, me and my friend have been cracking up over these this very eve!!!

And I don't even know this song originally but THIS version of it cracked me up!!!

Hope you enjoy!!!

And I'll try and tell you about the mental-est Sunday night I ever had tomorrow when I will hopefully resume normal service. I was up until 4.30 am! It was insane . . . but awesome!

Sunday, 15 March 2009


I realise this is the name of a "Friends" episode. The post isn't actually about "Friends". But it seemed pretty apt given the circumstances. Well, sort of. Let me elaborate . . .

Remember the 21 year old I snogged? No, not the one from work, the one I snogged at a night out the other week? This one?

While under the influence on Thursday night, it was suggested by some of the witnesses of the snog that he WASN'T in fact 21.

In fact, there has been various suggestions that he and his little friend might not have even been eighteen.

To the point where one of the girls said to me "those were awfully big bags they had. They probably had their school uniforms stashed in them."

Oh dear.

Oh DEAR!!!

So obviously what sprung to mind was the episode of "Friends" where Monica inadvertently had sex with the high school senior. Thankfully when the girls said they thought he was underage they meant underage to DRINK, plus I don't think a quick snog is quite the same thing anyway but more than anything? I feel a bit thick. Only because I totally believed them when they were telling me they were 21 and what uni they went to and everything.

Did I accidentally proposition a 17 year old????


Well, I suppose it provides a good story, if nothing else . . .


In other boy-related stuff . . . hypothetical question!

If you are on casual acquaintance with a guy, and start emailing one another, and then one day you give the guy your number, is he going to take that as a sign you are interested? Bearing in mind here that you may have actually kissed the guy before? And that after you have given your number to him, the two of you have text each other quite a bit?

And say you ARE actually interested, but don't really want to make a fool of yourself, and he HASN'T taken you giving him your number as a sign of this . . . then how do you let him know WITHOUT just telling him outright?

Okay, it's NOT really a hypothetical question.

I'm asking for a friend . . .

Saturday, 14 March 2009


I was in bed for eight pm last night. On a Friday night.

Seriously, what the fuck???

But I was sooo tired from the department bonding/update experience. It was a mental couple of days. Presentations and group work and icebreaking stuff during the Thursday where we were stuffed with so much information I don't think i took a lot of it in.

On Thursday night all hell broke loose. In a GOOD way, but it was an ever-so-slightly insane night!

After dinner, we returned to the hotel bar, where we all proceeded to get good and drunk. To be perfectly honest, I was ALREADY good and drunk by the time the meal ended, having already imbibed two glasses of wine beforehand and a few with dinner too. Oops. In the bar there were no tables so we ended up gathering some chairs around a baby chair to use as a table. It was NOT particularly steady.

The drinks were meant to be free but the tab was closed on more than one occasion. Which wasn't ideal considering that one large glass of wine cost a whopping SIX POUNDS AND TWENTY FIVE PENCE.

(Isn't it weird how I've forgotten some chunks of the night, but remember the price of a glass of wine???)

After the bar closed down at midnight, we ended up in one of my colleague's rooms for an after-bar party. It got a bit out of hand, we were all slightly merry, and therefore causing a bit of a disturbance. People kept coming to the door to complain about the noise. My favourite part of the party was when the song "Birdhouse in Your Soul" by They Might Be Giants came on and we were all singing along and dancing to it. I never realised how many people loved that song!

Eventually, the hotel staff, probably desperate to stop the complaints, told us they would re-open the bar for us, but none of us wanted to pay the exorbitant prices. So the party ended and broke off into individual parties. At one point there was four of us in another girl's room but she kept falling asleep so we left.

I woke up at six in the morning on my bed with the throw over me, still fully dressed. I was woken by one of my male colleagues in my bathroom. For some reason, after the unsuccessful final party, we had decided to play noughts and crosses, followed by hangman, in my room! Random much??? Every spare bit of paper in the room was covered with Xs, Os, and hangmen pictures! Seems like a bit of a strange end to the night, right?

The following day (or later that same day) most of us were barely in a fit state to get out of bed, but instead were subjected to some slightly insane team bonding activities. There was one where we had to diffuse a bomb (it wasn't a real bomb) and build a bomb shelter. One where we had to build a rocket. Another where we had to build a tent . . . while blindfolded!!! Then there was The Web (I have managed to find a link to a similar website which will show you this one) - now as far as I was concerned, this was probably the most fun one. But also pretty damn dangerous! One of the girls nearly got dropped on her head at one point, one of the guys hurt his neck when he fell out of someone's grasp, and I accidentally got my boobs felt up!

On top of everything else, we had to do it outside, and considering it was next to the sea and really bloody windy, I was FREEZING!!! (Of course, it might help if I had more appropriate clothes for Scotland, I guess. I HAVE admitted this before . . . )

Let's face it, I really am NOT the most outdoorsy active type you're going to find . . .

Anyway, by the time I got home yesterday, I was unbelievably tired. I had a plan to get into bed and have a couple of glasses of wine, but I managed one then just felt like I was going to pass out. So off to sleep I went. (And then got up at six am to come to work and do overtime).

I wonder if tonight will be yet another early night . . .

Friday, 13 March 2009

I KNOW . . .

I was on the verge of telling you about my mental night last night (I was away on a work trip) but something more important is bugging me now. Something I feel like I need to get out.

Do you know what does my head in? When someone treats me like I am some obsessed stalker, who keeps secrets from me, but yet tells other people with the knowledge that IS going to get back to me. Why is there no consistency?

Why is it the person seems to think I'm not over them? Not only have I been over him for quite some time now, not only am I sort of interested in someone else, but . . . I'm being treated like an utter idiot. I'm just sick of being treated like crap. Treated like some sort of pariah for something that isn't even my fault. The last couple of days has proved this to me more than ever. I'm actually at the end of my tether now, I want to scream "I am over you!" but it would be . . . well, somewhat random, right?

All the same, it's just so unbelievably frustrating. I feel like I'm being punished because of my own bad judgement, my gender, even perhaps my PERSONALITY. More importantly, I feel like I'm being punished purely by the fact that I'm ME.

I'm tired of the secrecy, I've had it with being left out. This has been affecting me on several different levels for some time now and I've had enough.

I'm trying really hard not to care. But it isn't that easy.

Tuesday, 10 March 2009


It's been a while since I did a guest post, so I bet you've been DYING to know where I might pop up next! No???

Well, the lovely Meghan has allowed me to post over at Blog Voyeur Turned Blogwhore so pop over there and check out my cameo role. What am I talking about? You'll have to go here to find out.

Do it.



Remember the swear-box??? And how funny I found it? (Especially since I wasn't taking part!)

It still has its moments of hilarity.

And in honour of Cheer-Me-Up Tuesday, rather than moaning about what I WANT to moan about, I'm going to post my favourite anecdote from the whole swear-box incident instead.

Last week, me and one of the flatmates contributing to the upkeep of the swear-box were in the kitchen. I was browsing my laptop, she was cleaning the room. (I suppose I should have felt guilty about that, but I was looking at some very interesting information online and couldn't really drag myself away from it). ANYWAY, as she cleaned the counter around the microwave, she came across fifty five pence worth of spare change. "Oooh," said she.

I wasn't paying much attention until she walked up to the swear-box, money in hand and examined the list underneath detailing the "cost" for use of each swear word.

"Shit," she enunciated, as if speaking to the box itself, and dropped 50p into the box.

She then selected a word worth 5p.

"Piss," she announced and charged herself the relevant amount.

Looking satisfied, she walked away and resumed her cleaning.

About five minutes later, she then did something that caused her to loudly, and entirely accidentally, swear.

At which point I was gutting myself with laughter and she was kicking herself that she now had to find her OWN money to fund her swearing habit.

Maybe you had to be there.

But it was bloody funny anyway . . .

Monday, 9 March 2009


Recently our department's individual desk bins were replaced by communal bins - one for paper, one for drinks and one for general crap. This is irritating, as it took me a couple of weeks before I actually remembered I didn't have my own bin to put things in. I kept reaching down with rubbish and realising there was nothing there. Very frustrating!

Anyway, I have gradually started to get used to it, so I have taken to making my life easier by taking my rubbish with me to the bin whenever I'm leaving the room. Whether it's to go and retrieve something off the printer, going for my lunch, or going to the loo.

Today I was due a loo break, so got up with an Alpen wrapper and an empty packet of Skittles in one hand, and my work pass to get in and out of the door in the other. I lifted the lid of the bin, threw away what I thought was my rubbish and as I was about to walk away . . . realised the wrappers were still in my hand.

And my work pass was in the bin.


Of course, I couldn't be seen rummaging through the bin for the pass like some sort of tramp, so I had to announce it to everyone nearby that I had just put my pass in the bin. Weird tramp or idiot??? I probably would have been better to be seen as the tramp. Oh well. Luckily, the pass HADN'T disappeared down to the bottom of the bin but was still lying on top, although it did take me a minute to spot it.

I tried really hard to make a joke out of it, because I suppose it IS quite a funny thing to happen. But really . . . I was mortified! After that, everytime I went to the bin I was TERRIFIED I was going to lose the pass again.

Somebody joked to me that just because I lost my pass didn't mean I could get out of coming to work.

I know that! Considering I actually need the pass to get OUT of the door as well as in, losing the pass inside of work is NOT actually going to help much!

Oh well, it was a good plan while it lasted . . .

Sunday, 8 March 2009

SO . . .

The pub crawl was a success, fun was had, minimum havoc was caused, and I didn't even get THAT drunk! Okay, so that's a lie. My drunken-ness peaked mid-evening though, so I did the sensible thing (which, as I said to one of my colleagues today, was as much of a surprise to ME as it was to everyone else) and went onto the soft drinks. I have no idea how many pubs we actually went to in the end, but I think we made it to all the ones in the plan. Some were better than others . . .

I woke up today without even a hangover, and then decided on impulse to . . . go into work and do overtime. Oh yeah. My life is so exciting I can't even stand it myself!

So I've got a busy week ahead of me, I guess, and a lot going on in my head. I got some advice about some stuff last night, which I suppose helped me, as I got some stuff off my chest that I've been bottling up for a while. But in other ways, the advice I was given has confused me a bit more. Don't you just HATE it when that happens???

Anyway, I will hopefully get back to normal not-so-angsty, slightly-more-regular blogging over the next few days (fingers crossed!) but in the meantime I have to finish getting ready to go over to one of my friends for dinner. We're having a roast. Yum. I am unreasonably excited about this, I realise, but that's because I hardly EVER get roast dinners. Yippee!!!

Saturday, 7 March 2009


Sorry, that pesky thing called real life has been getting in the way of the blogosphere once again. I could count the number of blog posts I've read in the past few days on one hand . . . and still have fingers left over. And I've barely had a chance to pop by here! The last time I had a night in was Tuesday, I'm so tired!!! And today I'm off on a pub crawl of the pubs in the Finnieston area. Which should be interesting since it isn't an area of Glasgow I frequent drinking-wise very often. I'm looking forward to getting good and drunk.

Which sort of makes it sound like that ISN'T a regular occurrence, right???

Anyway, to say I'm sorry, I thought I would leave you with some more sketches from "Spoons", since watching the dvd really cheered me up earlier on in the week . . .

Thursday, 5 March 2009


So today I went shopping. It was great fun!

I came into a bit of money recently. 500 pounds in fact. And not for any bad reasons, like losing a loved one or anything like that. My lovely Granda just decided he was going to give some away to his grandkids. So I decided that I would put 100 towards savings. 150 towards the holiday I'll hopefully get to take in July (I've already got all the money ready to pay for my Rhodes trip in May, so don't need to worry about that). And 250 just for me!!!

My plan was to buy jeans but do you know what? It just depressed me. Because I've put on a bit of weight of recently, the size 10 jeans just weren't fitting right. I have bought the odd skirt in a size 12 recently, and I refuse to go back to size 12 jeans as well. So I aimed for things I CAN still buy and feel pretty in, and buy smaller sizes in (the only good thing about having small boobs!). So I bought three new tops, a new mac and a pretty flower hair accessory. This cost me all in all about 130 pounds.

So then I felt quite guilty.

But the ideal solution to this feeling-like-a-shopaholic problem???

Go and see "Confessions of A Shopaholic". Just like when I read the book it was based on "The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic" (what it was called in the UK), I suddenly felt much MUCH better about my spending. I may have had a couple of issues with the book-into-film issue (it's never the same as far as I'm concerned) but I really did enjoy it, and it made me feel so much better about my spending.

Because, no matter what, I am NEVER going to be as bad as Becky Bloomwood!!!

(Oh, and by the way, what the FUCK was with her clothes??? Sometimes it was like she was Carrie Bradshaw on speed . . .)

Tuesday, 3 March 2009


Because it IS "Cheer Me Up Tuesday" still, after all - and because I felt a bit bad for not giving you anything cheerful - I am going to give you a couple of things which will hopefully make you laugh. Hmm, just have to go LOOKING for some stuff first. Bear with me . . . .

Well, first off, I'm not sure if this was meant to be intentional comedy or not, but it made me laugh all the same. It's a dance off from a recent episode of "Hollyoaks" and when I saw it on the screen, I thought it was one of the most hilarious things I have ever seen in a soap opera. Not that THAT is difficult . . .

Okay, and because I don't have the energy to look much further, here are the best bits from one of my favourite tv characters - Geoff from "Coupling" . . .


Of course, as usual, "Cheer Me Up Tuesday" coincides with me being as miserable as fuck.

And, I'm sorry, but I'm not even making up for it today by posting something funny. The day has just sucked from start to finish and I think, selfishly, I'm hoping I'm not the only one who's day went down the crapper pretty much right from the get-go.

It's not just all the usual stuff that I'm always complaining about that has bugged the hell out of me. It's always there, dammit, but it has just been a minor irritant the past couple of days.

It's the utter loss of control I feel of my life. I don't feel like ANYTHING is working out the way I planned. From the little things, to the big life-altering things. From the past to the present. And no doubt into the future too, since the past and the present seem to be the precedent for how everything is going to turn out in the end.

I hate the fact that I like someone who I thought might like me, but now I'm not sure, and I don't really know what to do about it.

I hate that I'm letting this bug me. Because I don't like the actions (or lack of actions) of others to affect my mood.

I hate that I don't really feel like I can talk to anyone about it right now, because I feel so stupid about the whole thing.

I just keep thinking, "Is this my life? SERIOUSLY?"

Most of the time, I'm relatively content. I don't mind my life. Bad things have happened, sure, but there's ALWAYS bad there to balance out the good. Even the people who do bad things and have good luck constantly all the same . . . I believe in karma and that one day life will bite them in the arse. (And hopefully take a big chunk out of it.) There was a point last year where nothing in my life was going right, I didn't know what way to turn, I wasn't even sure I could get through it. But I did. I came out the other end and I was happy again.

So why am I feeling so crap now all over again?

Why am I suddenly craving the closeness of a relationship, when I've spent the best part of a year feeling relatively content to be single?

Why have I just lay on my bed crying for ten minutes because I feel so alone? Big tears, loud, unattractive, sobbing that just makes you glad no one else is around to witness it. That means my eyes are puffy and my eye make-up has ran a bit and I don't really want to face anyone until I'm feeling a bit more normal again.

I KNOW this is just a funk and I'm going to come out of it, I KNOW whether this one particular guy likes me or not really isn't the issue here, and I KNOW probably in a couple of days/weeks time I'm going to be perfectly happy to be on my own again. But right now?

I just feel like shit.

Monday, 2 March 2009


Last night, me and my flatmate were talking about how sometimes we really hate having a shower. Not because we don't like to be clean, I should stress. Just because we really hate having to dry our hair afterwards.

It was just such a bother, we agreed.

"Wouldn't it be so much better if we could just - oh, I don't know - take our hair OFF when we didn't need it, and then that way we wouldn't always have to wash it," I sighed. "Why hasn't anyone ever thought of that?"

"I think . . . " my flatmate said slowly ". . . that is what they call a wig, Paula."

Oh yeah.

Sunday, 1 March 2009


Hands up who thinks I need to tidy up my room???

If anyone's looking for me, I'll be cleaning.
Or possibly on facebook.
One of the the two anyway. Probably the latter . . .