Monday, 31 May 2010


I don't even have the energy to come up with a good title for this post. Oh well. I'm home now. After having to wait around forever for my train home after the Manchester tweet-up, it was nice to be able to jump on a train five minutes after I got to the station and be back in Glasgow a mere 50 minutes later.

It was such a fab weekend. Why???

  • Our apartment was utterly amazing, and we had a great view of the water. (I am absolutely gobsmacked that we actually got Helen to leave today. I was convinced we'd be having to drag her our of there.)
  • I got to hang out with Miss Smidge, Pink Jellybaby and Helen again, and got to meet Pearl and Vicky as well.
  • I got to drink lots and lots of rose wine.
  • I got three nights out in Edinburgh, all in very different areas.
  • I got to share a bed with Miss Smidge and when she fell asleep I took advantage of her. Every night. (Sorry Smidge, but I couldn't resist.)
  • I live-tweeted the Eurovision song contest. That was amazingly good fun. (And, yes, I AM a complete saddo.)
  • I got to wear my new skirt and dress. (Not at the same time obvs!)
  • We visited a bar that served their cocktails in teapots and teacups. We also visited a bar that sold cakes and had board games in the back. Quirky.
  • I ran quite a lot last night as I was desperate to get to Asda before ten pm so we could buy more alcohol. This means I worked off some of the excesses of the weekend in one go.
  • We went exploring, with Smidge as our tour guide. (By the way, she is a sadist who made us walk up hills. Watch out for her.)
  • I have decided I like Edinburgh after all.

I cannot wait to see all the pictures that were taken over the course of the weekend (the ones I snapped on my BlackBerry were fairly limited) and I am suffering from withdrawal symptoms already. Miss your faces, girls!!!!

PS And I'm NOT a 'weegie!!!!!

Friday, 28 May 2010


So I'm heading to Edinburgh for the blogger/tweeter meet-up today. I have to do half a day of work first but after that . . I'm off to meet up with some fab girlies, some I've met before and others I am really looking forward to meeting.

We have an awesome weekend shaping up and it's going to be a great time.

I'm not anywhere near as nervous as I was before the Manchester tweet-up in Feb. Partly I think this is due to being on homeground. Even though I'm not from Edinburgh (although I'm not from Glasgow either), it IS at least in Scotland. The other reason I'm more at ease is because I have met three of the bloggers before, so I feel a bit more at ease. The last time, before I got to the meet-up, I was like "argh!!! I don't know anyone at all! I am going to freak out and want to go home!"

But this time . . . I'm cool. Honest.

Meet-up girlies? I shall see you in a few hours. Other freaders? I shall see you in a few days (unless you follow me on twitter, where I'll undoubtedly be randomly tweeting in lieu of having my netbook or laptop)


Wednesday, 26 May 2010


  • I trust people too easily. But once you cross me, it's rare I'll let you back into my trust, or my life.
  • I am lazy.
  • But if I have enthusiasm for something, I'll throw my heart and soul into it.
  • I am completely happy spending time alone (and sometimes I think my social life is a bit TOO active for my liking, which is why I do like to retreat into my own shell every once in a while and re-charge). However, I don't like to do things alone in public. I may be happy with my own company, but I don't want people to think I have no friends!
  • If you put a piece of paper and pen in front of me, I WILL doodle. Even if the bit of paper is some sort of official form. I can't stop myself.
  • On the days I leave the house, I find myself close to wanting to commit GBH on some random stranger on average ten times a day.
  • Sometimes I think I would be far happier if I stayed in the flat forever and never left. But then I wouldn't want to end up like Sandra Bullock's character on the net, where people don't even recognise me to know my identity has been stolen.
  • I am scared I'll never fall in love.
  • At the same time, I'm not entirely sure I want to spend the rest of my life with someone else. That scares me too.
  • I am a mass of contradictions (had you guessed that yet?)
  • I alternate between slight broodiness and utter terror at the idea that I could have a kid dependent on me. ME??? Who can't even walk into a PUB myself??? (Not that I'd be taking a kid into a pub, but you know what I mean!) Funnily enough, the latter emotion is far more regular. I just get gooey-eyed when I see a baby - but then I'm the same with puppies and I CERTAINLY don't want to give birth to one of THEM!
  • I hate when people try to give me unwarranted advice. Close friends, I will accept it from, but people who barely know me? No. If I want advice from them, I will ask for it.
  • I loathe the commitment of a TV programme. I love shows like "Glee" or "FlashForward" but I hate that I feel obliged to watch them on the night they are actually on TV. Sometimes I deliberately WON'T watch it then just to make a point.
  • I am an absolute sucker for pretty things. Like this dress I bought today for the Edinburgh meet-up. Look how pretty!!!! :)
  • I wish I was a more confrontational person at times. Sometimes it would really help me out if I was.
  • I am still a nervous wreck inside everytime I walk into my office in the morning, ever since the crap that happened to me earlier on in the year. I'm not sure I'll ever feel the same again. I'm utterly uncomfortable and ill-at-ease pretty much 75% of the time. It's not good for my nerves.
  • I'm stronger than I look though. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I am soft on the outside, I am easily upset, but inside I'm build of sterner stuff.
  • I love blogging, I love the blogosphere and I don't see myself leaving it anytime soon.
  • I love all of you who read my silly thoughts and rants and general narcissism. You guys rock.
  • There's probably more, but one other thing I know to be true about myself is that I'm very bad for starting a sentence and then deciding I can't be bothered finishing it halfway through, so . . .

Tuesday, 25 May 2010


I was thinking today about embarrassing things that have happened to me on the way to work today (my mp3 player is acting up so I need to think instead - blurgh, I HATE thinking!) and I remembered how back when I was a student I managed to embarrass myself three times in the space of a week on the Glasgow Subway. In fact, it was actually three days in a ROW!!! Which makes it even worse.

So in lieu of anything else to talk about today (I'm in another rager of a mood but it IS Cheer-Me-Up Tuesday), I thought I'd sum up those three embarrassing incidents.

It started off relatively small and got worse as the week went on . . .

The Tuesday (SLIGHT embarrassment . . .): The train pulled up at Kelvinbridge station. I was the only person to get off and started heading along the platform towards the stairs. The train was still sitting there with all the people on it. I wasn't really paying attention to anything. Halfway along the platform I realised I had went in the wrong direction. The stairs were the other way and I was headed directly for a wall in full view of the train I had just exited. Quick about-turn and bolt for the stairs.

The Wednesday (VERY embarrassed . . .): I generally don't run for trains. This incident proves why. I was walking down the stairs to my station as the train pulled in. I didn't think I would make it but the girl two steps in front of me started running for it and seemed to be making it, so I made a split decision and ran after her. Unfortunately I got caught in the doors. Well, when I say I got caught . . . they kind of open again when they hit an obstruction. i.e. ME. So one door hit me, knocked me into the other door and then I stumbled into the carriage, red-faced, with everyone looking at me. And then had to stay in the carriage, pretending to act nonchalant for the rest of the journey. Y'know, like I had MEANT for that to happen. I don't think I pulled it off somehow . . .

The Thursday: (the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me on the underground - I don't count the time I spewed on it because 1) I had someone with me, 2) I was drunk and 3) I spewed EVERYWHERE that night, not exclusively on the subway) It was early morning rush hour and I had to stand on the train. There's always a certain point between two stations where the train would suddenly swing one way and then back in the other direction really rapidly, but as long as you were sitting, grabbing onto an overhead bar, or wrapped around a pole, you were generally safe from falling over. I was holding onto a pole but quite stretched out due to the fact that the train was so busy. As the train swung from one side to the other, I lost my balance and . . . fell onto a man's lap. A man who was old and possibly homeless. And MAY have been quite happy to see me. (Although I cannot confirm or deny that).

I have done many embarrassing things in my life, and okay, none of them rank up there with the worst of them. But since these were done in the space of three days and without any alcohol consumed whatsoever, I reckon in terms of Public Transport Trilogies of Embarrassment (I hear there's a Ministry for it!), they rank right up there with the best of 'em.

What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you while on public transport?

Monday, 24 May 2010


So last week I misplaced my umbrella. Ironically, the last time I could remember having it was at the Rihanna gig. (And no, I hadn't brought it with me so I could put it up and dance while waving it about during "Umbrella" - which a lot of people did - I just had it with me because I live in Scotland and it rains a lot!)

I never have any luck with umbrellas. They're always breaking, or I lose them. Each one lives with me for only a short period of time.

I thought this was going to happen to this one, when it got to the weekend and I still hadn't found it. I asked V if I'd left it at hers the night of the concert but she said she hadn't seen it. So that had been my last option.

Until last night when I finally found it.

It was in my refrigerator.

My FRIDGE!!!!!!!!!!!

Don't even ask . . .

Have you ever lost something of yours and then found it again in a really random place?

Sunday, 23 May 2010


  • I wasn't around the blogosphere much last week and that's because real life caught up with me and I barely saw the inside of my flat between Tuesday morning and Friday evening except to pass out in bed. When I got home on Friday I nearly cried when I saw my bed. Partly because I wanted to be in it so much, and partly because it was covered in all my crap as usual. I am once again sleeping in a bed full of random stuff I've been too tired to move!
  • It was sunny this weekend. SUNNY!!!! I mentioned this yesterday but I feel it deserves another mention. I got to top up my Zante tan and also burnt my boobs a bit. Oh well. I miss having my own garden though. It's not quite the same in the Botanics - I can't sit around in my underwear and pretend to myself its a bikini. Matter of public decency and all . . .
  • In the space of five days, I have watched two major stars live. Rihanna on Wednesday and, tonight, I saw Alicia Keys. My God! Rihanna was good fun but Alicia . . . she just blew us away! Although I think I may have a "How To Annoy Me at A Concert" post coming up. Let's just say I've had tons of inspiration these past few days.
  • Not really wanting to go back to the office tomorrow. I'm really unhappy there right now, due to the events of a few months ago. When I got home on Friday night, I also kinda wanted to cry because of that. I now want to cry because it's now the early hours of Monday morning and I'm due back in a few hours. I also need to make up some time because I really want to get away early on Friday - and knowing my luck I'll make the time back and then not be allowed to get away early after all. :(
  • Things to look forward to though: Blogger Meet-up in Edinburgh next weekend (hence the reason I want to get away early on Friday, so i can get through there and start the fun as soon as possible), hen night the following weekend where I'll get to make cocktails (woohoo!!!), seeing Ellie Goulding live on the 7th June and the following weekend, I'll be heading down to London for work. I'll be down there from the 13th until the 16th I think, staying in Muswell Hill area, so if anyone is going to be around, give me a shout and maybe we can meet for a drink if I have any spare time!
  • Back on my diet as of tomorrow. I was meant to start it over the weekend but it just didn't happen. I only have four days of it before Edinburgh but I need to get back into the swing of it! Wish me luck!!! :)

And that's me all caught up now, I think!

Saturday, 22 May 2010


Today was a beautiful warm day, of the type that we don't often get in Glasgow. I spent the afternoon sunning it up in Glasgow's Botanic Gardens with my friend V, lazing, gossiping and reading magazines. Just one of my favourite types of day. My one problem? Generally when the hot weather comes out to play in the west end, you get at least a couple of hot guys appearing too. Not the case today.

But it reminded me of a time when me and V fleetingly thought we had found the place where all of the good looking guys in Glasgow went.

It was probably about 5 years ago now and we'd went out for a coffee one Sunday afternoon. Well, I don't DRINK coffee, but "meeting for Diet Irn Bru" doesn't have quite the same ring to it. After our coffee, we were wandering about Ashton Lane and were somehow enticed into a bar called Radio.

After ordering a drink each and sitting down, we looked around. And spotted a gorgeous guy.

Oh, and there was another one in the corner!

Oh and that guy too right opposite, he was cute too. Granted, he was with a girl but still . . . HOT!!!

And then we realised . . . THE BAR WAS FULL OF HOT GUYS!!!

We couldn't believe how exciting this was. Glasgow's not exactly renowned for its hot men after all (actually, coming to think of it, where IS??? Because if you let me know I am booking the first flight there!!!! Seriously . . .) But apparently THIS was where they all hung out.

I seem to recall we ended up there far longer than necessary purely because we had so many pretty things to look at.

A week or two later, we decided to revisit the bar, once again on a Sunday afternoon. It was with great excitement that we entered the bar, sat down and looked around.

No hot guys.


The only guy I even REMEMBER looked exactly like Peter Griffin from "Family Guy". Except in human, as opposed to animated, form.

(Why, yes, that WAS disturbing!)

Apparently the limited hot guy contingent of Glasgow had moved on without us.

I haven't worked out where they went.

Possibly they're no longer even IN Glasgow?

Perhaps it was a clever marketing ploy by the bar to lure in female punters?

Or did we temporarily stumble into some sort of Hot Guy Parallel Universe, like a random land at the top of the Far Away Tree???

I guess I'll never know.

But I'd LIKE to know . . .

Anyone found them??? (Dpn't be greedy - sharing's caring, okay???)

Friday, 21 May 2010


I hate charity street workers. I don't mean those people who give their time gladly and for no fee to collect money in tins. I mean those people who are paid eight quid or so an hour to harrass me in the street and make me feel guilty for not being able to donate to whatever cause they are supporting.

It's not that I don't support the causes. I just find them damn annoying. And here's a handy guide on how to annoy me if you are one. Not that you need it, because you've tried all these already . . .

  • Please always ensure you are in the path of wherever I need to be. It doesn't matter whether I'm heading for Argyle Street or Sauchiehall Street, you'll be there. Even in Byres Road, I can't escape you.
  • Also make sure your timing sucks. Best time to approach? When it is raining. Or when I'm running late and in a hurry to get somewhere.
  • Or when I'm in a bad mood. An OBVIOUS bad mood. Because I'm clearly going to be ESPECIALLY receptive to you then.
  • Assume that, even if I'm on my phone, I still want to talk to you. Even though I'm just PRETENDING to be on the phone to avoid you, it's still downright irritating.
  • Watch as I swerve to give your colleague a wide berth and then pounce on me. Y'know, since I clearly like you more than your colleague. Of course.
  • Chase me along the street. I don't really like telling people to "fuck off" when others can hear me, but this obsessive type of behaviour WILL drive me to it. Pinky swear.
  • Assume that because I came out of a posh shop, I am loaded and will OBVIOUSLY want to donate. Please note that the reason I was in the posh shop was because my sister works in there. I was there to see her, not buy clothes or a bag that cost 300 quid. The fact I am leaving the shop without any sort of purchase is evidence of that fact.
  • Approach me when I'm standing there waiting for someone. A captive audience who can't really escape. (I once told a guy who approached me in this manner fairly politely that I did not want to hear another word from him and could he please go away and leave me alone. He was so surprised that he complimented my necklace by accident.)
  • Get ANNOYED when I refuse to stop and talk. I don't actually WANT to hear your sales pitch.
  • Represent more than one charity on a regular basis. Even if I WAS interested in hearing more about the cause, even if I thought you were passionate about what you were talking about, once I see you talk the same way about another charity while wearing a different coloured charity bib, I start to doubt your integrity. (On top of the whole getting paid to do it thing, obviously)
  • Not accepting no for an answer is also a way to piss me off. It's one thing to be stubborn and strong-minded. Quite another to just be a bully.
To any people who might be reading who do these things to passers-by, I just want to say I'm sure you are perfectly nice people. I KNOW you are just trying to do your job, and that it's hard to get jobs in this day and age with the credit crunch and all, and I admire you for actually working and all that . . . But, and here's the important point, I SUFFER FROM PAVEMENT RAGE.

This is a serious illness.

It could result in violence. Towards you.

I'm trying to help you here.

Honest . . .

Monday, 17 May 2010


On Saturday morning, I got out of bed, looked at my legs, gasped and realised that I'd discovered yet another chore one should not try whilst inebriated.

Putting fake tan on.

I'm not the biggest fan of fake tan at the best of times and am certainly not a fan of applying it, but having a drink to make it more fun was not the best of idea.

My legs were covered in brown streaks - AND I WAS MEANT TO BE GOING OUT LIKE THAT!!!

It took major exfoliation, buying the wrong colour of "nude" tights and eventually covering my legs in FOUNDATION to get me looking half normal again.

So, along with drunken packing, drunken exercising and drunken cleaning, I guess drunken tanning is something I am going to have to the "No-No List". Sigh . . .

Anything else I need to add to that list???

Sunday, 16 May 2010


So I learned last night that not much has changed in the way I feel about my former friends.

The girl I went to the party with - she was lovely. In fact, we seemed to have a lot in common, despire not having saw each other for about fourteen years. We are probably going to end up meeting up again, but in Glasgow next time!

The girl holding the party was also very nice, and I got the impression that, had it not been for the fact she had to mingle, she would have spoken to us a lot more.

The rest of them though . . . let's just say I wasn't too impressed.

Some of them didn't even say HELLO, let alone ask me how I was.

Now THAT is rude. Right?

After a couple of hours we decided to leave as the girl I had went with had the potential opportunity to hook up with the cute barguy in the pub we went into first. Unfortunately the bouncer owuldn't let me back in the pub, saying I looked too drunk. As my friend went in to tell the barguy we couldn't come back in, I told the bouncer over and over that I only looked drunk because I couldn't walk in my five inch heels, and how I never normally wear high heels. He clearly didn't believe me.

He may have had a point.

We headed to good ol' Hamilton Palace (dear God) where the dancing wasn't open yet but we went into the pub below to wait. Unfortunately by this point I had had enough to drink and a wave of tiredness hit me. I tried to hold out for the barguy to come and meet my friend but she could tell I was exhausted.

And as I got out of the taxi on my parent's street, I managed to fall flat on my face in the middle of the road. I don't know if it was the alcohol or the heels. But I ended my night with my mum tending to my wounds as if I was a small child, and sticking a plaster on my grazed knee.

So I guess I really DID regress to childhood last night . . .

Friday, 14 May 2010


I'm not really a massive fan of petty people.

There's a problem with pettiness (pettyness?) though. However much I hate it, however much I try to rise above other people's, it has a tendency to grab me by the ankles and drag me back down to the same level. I find yourself getting involved in spats I didn't want to be involved in, having a bitch about something utterly stupid just because the playing field has changed and now all bets are off.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a school playground.

I wonder why certain people are so willing to try and destroy other people. When I say "other people", I mean me, of course. (It's ALL about me, doncha know???) I'm not sure what I'm meant to have done wrong in the first place, but I'm sick of being sucked into this Giant Vortex of Petty Crap.

There's a lot of bad things that go on in this world, a lot more serious issues to be contending with, a lot of people in pain in the world for GENUINE reasons. I wish some people would just grow up, let other people get on with their lives, and quit playing silly games.

We're meant to be ADULTS after all.

That's all.

PS I'm sorry. I've had a shitty week, I'm still covered in mosquito bites, my right eye won't stop running (perhaps it wants to escape my bad mood? Can't say I blame it . . .) and I'm just SICK of immaturity. Perhaps the rant will help me.

Thursday, 13 May 2010


Me circa 1988 or so . . .

So I wasn't the loudest of chicks back in high school. Circa 1991 - 1997 I was awkward, shy and uninteresting. Or so I believed anyway. I left school and never looked back. I didn't particularly believe the circle of friends I hung out with were that interested in keeping in touch anyway and when they didn't bother to contact me, I decided I was right and moved on with my life.

Of course, nowadays social network sites mean the past can come back to say hello. I started talking to people I knew in school online. Look at me and F - that's how we got started with our gargantuan Facebook chat session that lead to a date or nine. And I also talked to some of the girls I'd been friends with in high school.

I realise now that friendship is a two way street. I didn't really give these girls a chance to get to know me properly, too afraid of boring them . . . I assumed when we all headed our separate ways and never heard from them again that this was THEIR fault. But the blame lay with me too. When I spoke to the girl that was formerly one of my best friends, I realised this. I didn't make an effort with them either.

She's invited me to her 30th this weekend and I said I'd go. I'm going with another girl from school I haven't saw for years.

Some of the girls there will be part of my old circle of friends. The ones I was so shy and awkward around, so not the person I feel I am now.

I am worried I may regress back to that person.

Me circa now . . .

I know that people who know me nowadays laugh when I say I'm shy, when I try to describe how painfully so this was when I was a child. Just because I can laugh off an embarrassing moment these days, or come out with a rude one-liner, does not mean this has gone away. And anyway, with the people who have been in my life in the past ten or so years, I have been ABLE to reinvent myself, without pre-conceptions.

The only person FROM my high school life I have met for at least ten years is F. Okay, so that went well (at least at the time) but that was a bit different. I never felt boring around him when I was younger. I could TALK to him, even if it was about the shallowest, most light-hearted of things.

Even with the blogger meet-up in Manchester, worried I might give out a completely different personality or vibe to the one I put across here, I was not so nervous.

I'm kinda brickin' it, if I'm brutally honest. I feel like I'm about to go on a date . . . with my entire high school year. Even though as far as I'm aware there will only actually be a few people from high school there.

So I've assembled some armour. First, the pretty pretty shoes. Which will probably make me fall over.

Let's face it, I tend to fall easily. (The Manchester Tweet-up girls will be nodding in agreement here if they're reading!)

And then there's the dress. (Apologies, it wasn't on the website, and my photo has it in front of two other dresses and a coat, so it isn't the best of impressions of it. But you'll get the vague idea, I hope.)

Which is brand new from Warehouse. Which means probably at least one other person will have it. And remember how I get panicky at the idea that I may turn up in the same outfit as someone else. That being said, I look pretty in it. Which would help the confidence issue.

I then need to spend several hours fixing my hair, face and trying to cover any stray mozzie bites, and tell myself how awesome I am repeatedly, while reminding myself not to say anything EXCEPTIONALLY stupid in lieu of an awkward silence. (Since anything stupid I say will result in FURTHER awkward silence, undoubtedly . . .)

So what do I need from you guys? What is the point of this post?

I think I really just need you to talk me up, tell me how awesome I am.

Every girl needs to fish for compliments once in a while, right???

Wednesday, 12 May 2010


You know me, I'm not one to discuss PROPER serious topics on my blog on a regular basis. I prefer to keep it lighthearted most of the time.

But I just was watching a news report which got me thinking.

It was the story of an eight year old girl in London who was raped by two 10 year old boys.

I've got to say, there's a lot that shocks me in this day and age and still shocks me, but this appalled me. To the point where I have had tears randomly running down my face at the thought ever since.

The news story said the suspects on trial were being treated differently in terms of their trial, and that their identify was being protected.

Do they deserve this? I am a bit torn. I don't know whether they deserve it or not, to be perfectly honest.

Sure, they are young, but I still find it hard not to judge.

I can't help but think of the James Bulger case from the early nineties. Young boys tortured and killed a two year old boy, and were jailed but upon their release, they were protected and given new identities. One of them is now back in prison. Have they learned their lesson?

Can people who commit crimes so young change for the better? How can we trust them to? It's a total headfuck. Can we excuse someone their crimes based on their youth and potential ignorance to the crime they are committing? Surely they must KNOW it is wrong?

Is youth an excuse in these cases?

I'm not so sure.


So I've missed out on Classy in Philadelphia's Wednesday feature recently due to starting to run out of places I've visited, but of course I have somewhere I visited just last week that I have some pictures from so here we go . . .

Of course, this time it's Zante. To be honest, I prefer the Greek name - Zakynthos. Sounds much more exotic.

Only problem is, I'm limited to the pics I snapped on my Blackberry until my sister uploads the other photos. But here are a couple of shots for your viewing pleasure . . .

The beach - the day we sat on the beach, we watched the planes flying in and were freaking out a bit as it looked like they were about to crash into these mountains. Thank goodness they didn't! Isn't it pretty though?

Me by the pool on our first night. I was ridiculously drunk - this was the night I'd already fallen over twice.

The view from our balcony. Laganas is a strange mix of countryside and full-on party resort. This shows the countryside view of it. We never got sun on our balcony which was a major bone of contention for me.

Anyhoo, this will have to do for now. I'm getting major holiday withdrawal now - if you ever have a chance to go to Zante, you definitely should. It's bee-yootiful. I kind of wish I could go for two weeks though so I had time to actually go and see the sights properly. Naked Guy, who was staying on another week, has a couple of great pics on his FB from a boat trip he went on - maybe I should steal those at some point!

Where in the World are YOU this Wednesday? Stop by Jessica's blog to participate.

Tuesday, 11 May 2010


  • Bug me every night to come into your restaurant. After I've already been in on one occasion. Maybe you forgot that. Or maybe you think I want to go to the SAME RESTAURANT every night for a week.
  • Put your towel on a sun lounger by the pool, despite the fact there is a sign that says this is not allowed . . . and then, without even sitting on it at all, go elsewhere for a few hours. Regardless of whether or not there are spare loungers, this is NOT going to make me like you.
  • Speaking of the pool, choosing to constantly jump in right next to where I'm lounging, and therefore splashing me, is not welcome. If I wanted to get wet, I would be IN the pool. 'Kay?
  • Physically preventing me from passing you so you can get me into the bar you are promoting is also frowned upon. In fact, I'm pretty sure it virtually qualifies as physical assault?
  • I don't mind if you are a mosquito but I DO mind if you bite me. I mind a lot. Leave me alone and we can be at peace.
  • If you are a holiday rep, don't be nice to me on the first day then ignore me afterwards because I choose not to come to your welcome meeting or buy any trips from you. It's bloody rude. As was trying to scrounge things from us on the last day because you're so poor.
  • If you are a holiday company who arranges flights in the middle of the night, ensure you make no arrangements with your hotels and apartments regarding the room on the last day, therefore leaving all your customers without a room to stay in for nearly an entire day, and without the option to pay extra to extend it. Not nice.
  • On the plane, make sure you are always the first to get off, by any means possible. Even if it means barging into other people.
  • Sit in the wrong seat, then act put out when you have to move and moan about how you've just got settled. So what? YOU SAT IN THE WRONG SEAT, YOU MORON!!!

Any other suggestions???

Monday, 10 May 2010


Two posts in one day is a rarity for me these days, but I've not blogged for over a week and now I'm a bit more alive, I thought I'd give you a quick recap of the week that has just been . . .

We headed to the airport about 8.30pm. Partying started beforehand, with me and my sister sharing a bottle of sparkling rose. Everything at the airport went to plan. We picked up our tickets okay, there wasn't a long queue for check-in, the plane was on time. We had some more rose at the bar and then on the plane. We arrived at the apartments around about 6.30am on Monday . . .

I didn't sleep, spent the morning by the pool and the afternoon getting slightly lost in Laganas (the resort we stayed at) That night we went out for dinner, I was chatted up by an Albanian guy who had got us into the restaurant in the first place and according to my sister I organised a date with him for the following night. I don't think that's strictly true but I WAS very drunk so I couldn't rule it out. So much so that I managed to fall INTO a shop on the way back to the apartments, then fall at the pool bar later on. Thankfully not INTO the pool. The night was elevated to legendary status however, when a young boy (early twenties) who had been on our flight decided, in his drunken state, to strip naked and dance around the pool. Then jump in. Cue much tittering about his tiny penis. He didn't seem bothered though.

Fairly uneventful but still fun. The young boy was quite mortified when we showed him the pictures of him naked. Some of the other guests had greeted him earlier that day by going "Oh look, there's Free Willy!" We had to avoid the restaurant where the Albanian guy was in case I actually WAS meant to be going on a date with him. I didn't fall. Yay.

Started to get major mosquito biteage. Not a highlight. Went out for dinner and once again had to avoid the guy from the first night. I ended up being asked out by the guy in the restaurant we went to instead. He looked really old! I think I told him I wasn't interested. Later back at the pool bar, some guy from another hotel started chatting to me. I remember going on for about 20 minutes about how happy I was to be single, and then contradicting myself by kissing him. Oops. I later found out he was a bit sleazy so hoped I wouldn't run into him again . . .

Managed to get through the day without getting asked out or kissing random strangers or falling over. Got more mosquito bites though. :(

We went to try and find the apartment we had booked for the last day but without a map it was difficult. We ran into a guy called Scottish John, who told us how to get there. After realising it was completely in the opposite direction from our apartment and would just be an inconvenience, we decided to screw the twenty quid we'd paid for it and just hang out room-less on the Sunday.

Spent the day on the beach with a bunch of other females from our apartments. The weather wasn't brilliant and the mosquitos were all over me like a rash, but it was a good laugh all the same. That night we ended up back at the restaurant from Monday night where the Albanian guy told me he'd waited for me on Tuesday night and I hadn't came. Oops. Hehe. Later on me and my sister met up with two of the girls staying in our apartments and we did a tour of the Laganas strip, hitting several bars and a club. We ran into the guy I'd kissed on Wednesday and I have a feeling I was a bit of a bitch to him, but I can't really remember. In fact, there's a lot I can't remember about Saturday night. There was lots of cheap cocktails and free shots and dancing, but it's all a bit of a blur, I'm afraid.

The hangover the next day wasn't a blur though. It was pretty damn real. We spent the day lying on sunloungers trying to feel a bit more normal, went for a Sunday roast later on, then were dragged into several pubs by the promoters. Saying "we have to get a plane in a few hours" didn't seem to wash with them. We got back to the apartments about 11pm and then had another four hours to wait around for our airport transfer, while stressing about the volcanic ash potentially being an issue again. Luckily it was not, and after waiting around for what seemed like FOREVER, we finally got on the plane and got home.

It's weird because even though I know yesterday I was lazing about on a lounger, basting myself in sunshine, it seems like a lifetime ago. I guess partly because I've only had a few hours sleep since then and I WAS awake for so long. It just seems like I wasn't really there!

But it was definitely an eventful holiday.

And its inspired a "How To/How Not To Annoy Me On Holiday" post. Which will more than likely be up tomorrow. Once I get around to writing it, obviously.

So what's new peeps? What did I miss???


Hey all!!!

I'm back now. :) Thanks for all who contributed guest posts in my absence.

Anyhoo, Zante is lovely. If you haven't been, you should definitely go. Just warch out for the mosquitos - I am COVERED in bites. Apparently they like my juicy alcohol tasting skin. I don't suppose I can blame them.

Oh and I've been up since 10am yesterday. That's Greek time, in fact, so actually 8am. It's now 10am today. So I've been up for 26 hours, if my befuddled mind serves me correctly. These overnight flights are a killer.

So I suppose I should go rub some sort of savlon stuff on my many bites, and try and sleep. Although I'm at the point where I'm so tired the idea of sleeping seems impossible. If that makes sense . . .

Proper update post to follow!

Friday, 7 May 2010


Guess what, all??? We have another guest-poster today - this time it's The Girl from the blog Living With A Boy. And she's done a special list post just for me!!! Wheeeee!!!!

Hello strangers! You know you offer to do something and then a little voice in your head immediately screams at you "Why did you just DO that?!?" That's kind of what happened to me when I volunteered to do a guest post for the delightful Miss P.


Seeing as Paula is off on her holidays (and how I hate her for it) I thought that I would write something vaguely related to holidays. Ok that's a lie, I emailed her going "WHAT SHOULD I TALK ABOUT?!?" I've noticed that P likes her lists so in homage to her I have done the same.

The background story . . .

At the end of 2009 I had a reunion with my best friend who lives in America. I lived with her and her boyfriend in Manchester when we were all pretending to be serious scholars and gain Masters degrees. They were going to be spending the first few days of their trip in London before heading over to France and then travelling up to stay with me in Hull. I obviously couldn't wait for them to come to Hull so the boyfriend and I decided that we would go down to London and see in New Year with them.

American Girl and American Boy had arranged to stay with a friend and rather than face a ridiculously large hotel bill, I called on another person that we lived with in Manchester and asked if we could stay with him for a couple of days. Worst decision of my life.

What follows is a list of things that happened to us over the 2 nights we stayed with him. Yeah it really was only 2 nights. Felt like a lifetime.

The Girls's Guide To How to be a Terrible Host
  • Only tentatively invite people to stay with you. Then leave then in a state of limbo as to whether you actually mean the offer. Don't let them know for certain until a week before the visit, meaning that finding affordable alternative accommodation is impossible
  • Invite people with the words "You're more than welcome to stay at mine, although it'd probably be better if you didn't" thus rendering your potential guests totally confused as to whether you've invited them or not.
  • Have a maid. In a uniform. Who doesn't speak any English. That will make everyone really comfortable.
  • Fail to inform your guests that you don't actually have a spare room for them to stay. Until they arrive.
  • Don't offer your guests any form of food or refreshment for their entire stay.
  • Don't provide them with toilet paper for the toilet they're using.
  • Have a massive party in the lounge, where your guests will be sleeping. Don't let them know that this will be happening or describe it as "A few friends coming round to play board games".
  • Let the party go on until after 2am before finally twigging they might want to sleep.
  • Make sure the people at the party are the most annoying spoilt brats you can find, ensuring they are incredibly irritating.
  • Allow your guests and the maid to clean up after your party the next morning.
  • Ask them what they plan on doing in London that day. Tell them that you're going to the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park with your girlfriend and immediately follow that with "That's not an invite or anything." Awkward.
  • Don't give them a key so they can come and go from the flat, despite the fact that you intend on spending no time with them whatsoever.
  • Tell your guests that you'll be having an early night because of the party the night before, meaning that the guests rush back from having fun in London Town so as not to keep you up.
  • Don't actually be in when they come back home, forcing them to wake your sister up instead to let them in

I hope this person is no longer your friend! Thanks for the guest post! :)

Wednesday, 5 May 2010


Hi All. Snafugirl here. While P is on vacation, I thought I'd entertain you with a little vacation story of my own. I've already told this story on my own blog, so for those of you who follow both of us, sorry for the repetition. But then, you already know this one is worth a second read.

In 2008, Susan and I visited our friend who was in Maui on a work contract. The very first night we arrived, he broke his ankle during a hockey game. All of the plans he had to take us hiking, teach us to surf, etc. were ruined. Luckily, his roommate Lolohi offered to take us hiking one day. As a thank you, we took him to breakfast beforehand. There was an omelet on the menu that looked great. The only problem was that it had sausage in it. Aside from the occasional bacon with breakfast, I don't eat meat. But I got it anyway.

After breakfast, Lolohi drove us to our starting point. This wasn't any regular tourist hike with a paved trail, port-a-potties and gift shops. No, Lolohi was a native. This was a "Step on a rock and hope it doesn't give out" type of hike that would take an hour and a half each way. It was on a lava rock mountain, overlooking the ocean. Did I mention that I'm scared of heights?

About half way through the hike my stomach started hurting. I turned to Susan in a whisper, "Dude, I don't feel well." She ignored me and continued taking pictures. It started getting worse. I thought maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. "Dude, I really don't feel so hot. This shit ain't funny," I whispered again to Susan, so Lolohi would not hear. "We're almost at the destination point. I'll tell him we should turn around instead of sitting there for a while." At this point, my stomach was starting to have a battle with me. When we got to the destination, Susan turned us around like she promised. Lolohi looked confused but followed suit.

I was starting to sweat. I felt like what I imagine hell must feel like. My stomach was flip flopping in ways I've never experienced before. There I was, in beautiful Maui, with a strange guy on top of a lava rock mountain. My stomach was battling me and it was about to take the gold. I started to devise a plan. Maybe I'd tell Lolohi I had to pee, shit behind some rock and use my bathing suit bottom as makeshift toilet paper. That could work. I could go panty-less for the rest of the hike.

"We'll catch up with you. I have to find somewhere to pee," I said to Lolohi. The second he was out of sight I bolted behind a rock. As I began to unbutton my pants, my stomach broke out with with the last hit that would allow it to win this battle. Before I was even able to get my pants off my ass exploded. I got them off and it wouldn't stop. Susan was standing 10 feet away. The look on her face was a mixture of horror and amusement. "I shit my pants. Now what the fuck am I gonna do??" I said from a squatted position. It's a good thing my actual pants were not affected by this incident. "He has your beach towel. I'll get that for you." While she was getting my towel all I could think of was getting my bathing suit off. When Susan came back she found me wearing nothing but a wife beater and socks. Poon exposed. At that point there was no room for embarrassment. She has since given me the name "Muff and Socks" because of that. She started walking towards me to hand me the towel. "You better toss it. I don't think you want the up, close and personal version of this."

I cleaned myself up, left the towel and bathing suit and came out from behind the rock. "We are never to discuss this ever again," Susan said to me. The poor girl was traumatized, and rightfully so. Wouldn't you be if your friend had an explosive shit attack just feet from you? "What are we gonna tell him? I took too long to have only peed," I asked in a panic. She suggested we say I threw up. Of course, he urged me to take a dip in the ocean since that soothes nausea. But I had no drawers on. I couldn't go swimming. I insisted going back to the house so I could just take a cold shower and lie down. After much back and forth, he agreed.

I'm not sure if it was the heights or the sausage, but that the worst experience of my life. I threw out every article of clothing I had on that day, even though everything else was clean besides what was left on the mountain. The pics shown were taken by me prior to feeling like I might die. Susan told her boyfriend and they both laughed at me several times. Since then, they have both shit themselves twice each. If that's not karma, I don't know what is.

While P is on vacation, I wish her a loo wherever she goes, toilet paper whenever she needs, and cooperative bowels. Let us all pray that she is not as unfortunate on her vacation as I was on mine.

Monday, 3 May 2010


Okay, so as you probably all know by now (since I have mentioned it rather a lot), I am off on my holi-bags this week, which means I will not be around. I know, I know, you're all gutted, you'll all miss me tons, yada yada yada. But dry your tears - because some fellow bloggers have kindly agreed to stand in for me over the next week while I'm sunning it up in Zante.

So first up. we have the lovely, amazing Kirsty, who is one of the few bloggers I have actually met in real life. She normally blogs over here, but has taken time out of her busy schedule to lend me a guest-post!

(Kirsty, I hope you don't mind, but I decided to add the video clips in!)

Hilary Swank and her new man did it. Rihanna says she prefers it, and it worked for Britney... for a couple of nights. To take it to the next level, the hottest power couple on earth, Michelle and Barack Obama managed to make light of two relationship taboos, and got together after being workmates AND friends. That said, Google "celeb couples friends first" and the most exciting thing you get is Christian dating websites. So it seems the jury is still out on the biggest question hanging over relationship-ville since "relationships at work?" and "should I/Cheryl Cole take my/her scumbag ex back?"


I grew up in a family of three sisters, and didn't realise how much I longed for a brother until I was at Uni and developing some of the strongest friendships I've ever had - with guys! Through them I've learned so much about the way boys think - but it's also blown apart my ability to generalise what a friendship between a guy and a girl can mean. I've had three types of friendship with blokes, to varying degrees:

Friend A is A-class in every way. We met at the very beginning of our first semester, and since then we've become so close that most of our mutual friends would rarely mention one of us without the other. We drank and ate together, lived together (and were co-Senior students of our Residence in our third year), and have been through some incredibly tough times. He's been the sort of friend that's taken me out on Valentine's Day if I was single, and that's sang me stupid songs from the Mighty Boosh to cheer me up. My parents love him and would be beyond happy if we got together - but I love him like a brother, and there's never even been a suggestion that we'd ever be more than best friends.

Friend B is someone who I have no doubt will still be in my top ten friends list when we're 40 and emailing pics of our kids to each other! But... I fancied the pants off him when we met, and if that hadn't been the case, we probably never wouldn't have become friends. HE IS GORGEOUS - painfully, inescapably lush, and so in my first year at Uni I weasled my way into his company pretty efficiently. We get on a storm, and always did - but realised pretty quickly that nothing was going to develop. It was pretty easy to get over though, because although we weren't meant to be a couple, in romance's place was left a really solid friendship.

And now to Friend C. I've never had a friendship like this one before. While I can't pinpoint the exact date we met I remember feeling that I'd met someone that got me like no-one had before - a real soulmate. Yes, I was attracted to him - but he had a girlfriend, and I was interested in someone else, so we became friends, and have been each others confidantes ever since. No-one makes me feel more energised and invigorated about life! Our friendship has never been static - there have been periods when we rarely saw each other, and when his girlfriends didn't like me - but whenever we're together, we are instantly in each other's heads and as intensely close as ever. This was a relationship that I thought would never alter. Until he became single, and I realised the terrifying truth...

I've fallen for my friend.

Not just my friend. One of my BEST friends.

So many people have, over the years, told me to steer clear of blurring the line between friendship and romance. Hell, I even said so myself. Now, while I hold very dear hopes that we could buck the trend and become the real life When Harry Met Sally, I know that this is a minefield of potential disasters. Does he feel the same way? How would this bombshell affect our dynamic? Would we ever regain the closeness that we have now if he just wanted to be friends, or if we tried it, and it didn't work out? Could I even risk our friendship in the first place? Does the uncertainty of our respective futures make this a bad time anyway? Will there ever be a good time?

Despite the horrors that cause me to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, and have me singing "Overkill" by Men at Work all day ("I can't get to sleep, thinking 'bout the implications, of diving in too deep, and possibly the complications...") there are positive aspects to this revelation. I've realised what I've been doing wrong in relationships in the past, trying to make it work with the wrong people, and trying to shove lovers into the role of best friend. And despite the confusions and complications, everything seems somehow simpler when I contemplate a partnership with someone that I already know understands my needs and whims.

So do I have an answer to my own initial question? No. But here is my hunch. If you've found someone you love as a friend, with whom you have a real connection, AND you are lucky enough to be attracted to them, then what more are you looking for? Maybe it's relationships with people who AREN'T friends that are abnormal.

If it all works out, and Harry does meet this Sally in the real world... I promise I will recreate the fake-orgasm-in-the-diner scene, and you guys will be the first to view :)

(This was Meg Ryan. Not Kirsty.)

Thanks for the post!!! xxx

Sunday, 2 May 2010


Yes, that is what my day has involved so far. Packing. Oh, and procrastination.

More procrastination to be honest.

I put fake tan on my legs earlier. I can't shower until I'm sure it's developed okay. (I COULD have showered first but I HATE the biscuit smell fake tan always leaves one with). I can't get dressed until I have showered. And I don't feel like I can pack properly until I'm dressed.

I know, excuses excuses, right? But it makes sense in my head, honest.

Why is packing such an ordeal?

I can't believe I'm going on holiday tonight.

I can't believe my flight isn't until 11.30 pm.

I can't believe my flight BACK is at 5.55am!!! What sort of time is THAT for a flight???

Apparently it's something to do with sea turtles.

Don't ask - I have no idea.

Anyhoo, I guess I should go get on with things, and stop putting off the packing. And wash myself. And put some clothes on.

Providing my worst fear doesn't happen, I'll talk to you all in a week. Although I'll more than likely be on twitter still.

In the meantime, I have a few awesome guest posters covering for me while I'm away. The first of which will be up tomorrow morning.

Bon voyage to moi!! :)