SHOULD I BE SCARED???

In the past 48 hours or so, two woman have been found murdered in Glasgow. One directly outside my friend's work in the southside, another just five minutes away from me in the west end.

Okay, so strictly speaking, they haven't been declared "murdered" yet. Although since the first was allegedly subjected to a brutal attack, and the second allegedly stabbed, I reckon neither was an accident. Or perhaps that's just my opinion.

Although there have been times when Glasgow has been declared the murder capital of western europe, I have never really thought of it that way. You could say that is maybe because the town I grew up in was once branded "one of the roughest towns in the world" and I was never particularly aware of it - I do remember a couple of people being murdered, don't get me wrong, but I never felt particularly unsafe. My sister recently told me that a boy who was in her class at primary school was in jail for killing someone by stabbing them with a sword. That's pretty damn scary. It's essentially someone we grew up with, and they did THAT?

But when I lived back home I would quite happily get the last train home from Glasgow, arrive home at half eleven at night and walk home alone. Not thinking of the danger I could potentially be in. Much the same as I do in Glasgow. Many is the night I have walked the forty minute walk from town to the west end, all alone, not considering that not everyone in the world is good and innocent and isn't inclined to commit violence. I have had many a row for doing so, also, but I have continued to do it. Sometimes I'll get a little paranoid that someone is walking behind me, or about to jump me . . . but it hasn't happened.

What I have to realise though is, just because it hasn't happened, doesn't mean it won't eventually. I know I need to start actually taking proper care of myself and not doing stupid things like walking home alone in the dark after midnight. Sometimes, I guess, I just feel like I can't be bothered queuing half an hour for a taxi, or can't actually afford it. But after seeing all the crap that has happened just in the last couple of days, so close to me, I realise I seriously need to cop on and actually have some consideration for my own personal safety.

After all, I don't want to end up another statistic . . .

NB - I was originally looking for the Michael Jackson vid for "Thriller" (cos it's SCARY - well, sorta) but I decided the "13 Going On 30" version would lighten the tone of the blog a bit . . . Hope it worked!

PARANOIA PARANOIA!!!

I think it's possibly somehow related to my contact lenses but everytime it's windy and sunny at the same time, my eyes suddenly develop a major streaming problem. Which is all well and good, and might be bearable normally, but not when you are a fan of dark eye make up like me and the tears catch it on their way out. I always end up with it smudging (far more than it's intended to) under my eyes, and sometimes around my eyes.

Today, for some reason, was worse than usual. I could feel my eyes tearing up constantly from the moment I walked out of my flat door. There was water streaming down my cheeks, and every time I tried to wipe it away (after all, what if someone thought I was CRYING???) more and more black came off on my finger. I was starting to get a little paranoid that I looked like The Scream or something, and I was itching to pull my mirror out of my bag and check my face, but I thought that would look a little obvious on the street, especially if it turned out that my face was a total wreck. Therefore I spent most of the walk to work with my head down, wiping my eyes constantly and trying not to walk into anything.

Finally, I got to a quiet spot where I could sneakily check my face in the mirror. Dreading what I might find, I pulled it out of my bag, and warily eyed my reflection. Amazingly, my eye make up had somehow stayed put. It looked exactly like it had when I left the house. I couldn't believe it.

I did have a tiny insect smack bang in the middle of my forehead though. (WTF?)

I think it was dead. Or it was by the time I finished with it...

L-O-V-E

I'm head over heels in love . . . with the idea of love itself.

I think deep down I always have been. As Hugh Grant said in "Love Actually", it actually is all around (I know, puke! But still . . .). It's in pretty much everything. Every film, every song, every book . . . How can we possibly avoid being exposed to it? Being affected by it?

I suppose it's really romance I am obsessed with, rather than love. But, as far as I'm concerned, love and romance goes hand in hand. As a kid, I would read devour those teen romance novels, the "Sweet Dreams" and the "Point Romance" ones in particular. All these books made me think that there was definitely someone out there for me somewhere. It made me believe in love at first sight, in soulmates, in that spark of electricity when you meet the one you're meant to be with for the first time. I always thought, if I met this person, I would know. And, when I was younger and more naive than I am today (although I have it on good authority that I am still naive), I thought that I knew many times. It was always one-sided of course. Those teenage crushes where you mistake infatuation or a crush for all-consuming love. Back then, I tended to fall in so-called "love" at literally first sight.

But when I look at the guys I've actually been involved with . . . there's not one of them that I met for the first time and thought in that moment "he's the one". I've maybe thought he looked like someone I could be good friends with, or perhaps "Oh, he's sorta cute" but looking back after the fact I can't help but think "But I never imagined that I would have ended up with him." They've grown on me, that's the only way I can think to put it. There's been no flash of recognition at the first meeting, no spark. There's been chemistry which has grown over time, but no instant attraction.

I don't think love has to be all about that instant fix, don't get me wrong. But sometimes I feel like it should be. Sometimes I look around at other couples, people in the street that I don't know, that from looks alone I wouldn't imagine together and I can't help but wonder . . . what was it for them? What brought them together? Was it instant attraction? Are they settling and know it? Settling and don't know it? Or are they just made for each other? Other couples fascinate me - apart from the Public Displays of Affection, which just seem malicious to a single chick!!!

Deep down I want to meet a guy and however we start off or whatever, I ultimately just want it to feel right. I don't want to feel doubts or uncertainty, any paranoia resulting from the mess of my previous relationships. I know perhaps that's unrealistic in itself, and I know relationships are hard work . . . but I don't want it to be that hard.

I don't want it to be like in the movies. There's always a happy ending sure, and believe me, I would like to think that ultimately that's where I'm headed. But movies and books always have obstacles, nothing is ever smooth sailing. I don't want that. I want it to work out first time, I want to have my happy ending without all the crap in the middle that spins the story out longer, and makes you more pathetically grateful for the twist in the tale that turns everything sunny once again.

Love is sweet and makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside and part of me does love the way it is portrayed in fiction. But I don't want the fiction, I want the real thing. Hopefully I'll find it eventually. In the meantime, I guess I'll just keep watching the films and reading the books and devouring the fantasy version . . .

PS. I don't know why I chose the Sugababes song, I think it was because it's kind of the way I would like to feel. Who knows . . .

MMMMMM . . . CAKE!!!

Today a friend and I were discussing what kind of cake we would be (don't even ask how the subject came up, it's a long story!). I decided I would be a french fancy (all pink and with a dollop of cream - yum) and she said she would be baked alaska (she had her reasons too). We also discussed what kind of cakes we thought other people would be - and most of them weren't particularly flattering . . .

Anyway, I remembered that a while ago someone had a "What kind of doughnut are you?" quiz on their blog, so I was positive that I could find a "What Kind of Cake Are You?" version. So after googling it, I've managed to find this. Try it yourself if you have time and let me know what you are! I'm interested to know what other options there were.

Apparently, I'm an angel food cake. I'm not even sure what that is!!! Hold on, I'll google it . . . Oh, it looks quite nice actually. I'm happy with that. It says "as an angel food cake you bounce back from things, and you don't get brought down by anyone. You have a sensitive and shy side too, and prefer traditional things to glam or flaunty."

I'm not entirely sure most of this is true, but perhaps an angel food cake is what I aspire to be, not what I am right now. Oh well, that suits me I suppose!!! :)

Anyway, since the Kelly Clarkson track seemed to go over quite well the other day, decided to include another one today. I've not felt quite as upbeat about stuff since the holiday weekend ended, but I'm still feeling much better, and this song never fails to make me smile. I'd probably replace the Chivas with some rose vino though . . .




I quite fancy some cake now . . .

"THREE MONTHS AND I'M STILL SOBER . . ." (NOT LITERALLY)

"Three months and I'm still breathing; been a long road since those hands I left my tears in . . ."

Kelly Clarkson is a girl I think it would be good to hang with. Perhaps we could outdo each other with stories of the bad things guys have done to us in the past. She would probably win, judging by the bitterness of some of her lyrics, but I would be a worthy opponent I'm sure.

I think this song "Sober" sums up the way I'm feeling these days. Three months ago I felt absolutely rubbish, I had literally hit rock bottom as far as I was concerned. I honestly couldn't see myself feeling better, couldn't imagine ever feeling more hopeful. It was like, when it ended, everything stopped. I alternated between feeling numb and crying hysterically. Okay, so a lot was going wrong all at once, but I definitely wasn't feeling particularly strong or optimistic.

And it's not like anything has really shifted in my life to make me feel happier. It's not like I've met a replacement, or found a better job, or made a drastic change in my life. But one day everything seemed to just click back into place. I can pinpoint the exact moment it happened, looking back, but I didn't really notice it at the time, it took me a week or two to realise the change. Nothing external, it was inside me.

I felt . . . happy.

Happier than I even felt before it all happened. I guess that is the most important thing here.

Suddenly I realised I quite like having freedom. It's not like I wasn't free before - but I had someone else to consider, you know? Rearranging my plans around this other person. I didn't mind doing it, don't get me wrong, I wanted to see him after all. But gradually I guess, like tends to happen in relationships, I felt myself losing my independence, my own identity, a little. Something I told myself I would never do again. I didn't want to be like that. Part of me hated myself for being like that.

I can look back on it now without too much anger or sadness. There's still a little there, I can't let it go completely. But my memories, up until the end, are good, and even though I maybe wasn't as happy as I thought I was, it was still an important part of my life. He was an important part of my life. Or perhaps the emphasis should be on was. Because it is the past now, it's another lesson to learn, something else to chalk up as experience. Hopefully I will actually learn from my mistakes this time around. I certainly feel far more hopeful that I will! And, for me, that is a giant step forward.

And for those of you who have found yourself in a similar situation (you know who you are!) take my word for it, it will get better. We're all stronger than we look!!!

FURTHER ADVENTURES . . .

Just drunkenly booked my flights to Belfast in July - hope I got them right and haven't accidentally booked flights elsewhere!!!

To be honest, I'm a little worried that I can't afford all my trips. I have my Belfast trip, two trips to Southern Ireland, and a long weekend in Spain (or thereabouts) to afford and I need to book all of them asap. Also I told my brother I might go away with him so that's something else I have to try and afford. But hey I want to get away as much as possible - it's fun!!! (Oh and did I mention I'm going to London with work next month? Let's see how many flights I can make this year . . .)

Tonight I was on the underground next to a couple of guys and after a couple of minutes, one of them punched me. I turned around in shock just to hear him call me by name and instantly realised he was a guy from my course at uni who I hadn't seen in seven years. And there was another guy from my course sitting opposite me who I ALSO hadn't seen in that long. I had added them both as friends on facebook but I hadn't SEEN them in so long, it was just a bit odd, you know? I guess I have the Rangers game to thank for seeing them anyway . . .

Which leads to . . .Poor Queen of the South. I was PRAYING they would manage to beat Rangers in whatever final they had both made it to ( I don't know enough about football to confirm what game it was and can't even be bothered to look it up). It's funny enough that Rangers have missed out on every other title this season. To be beaten by a tiny little team would just have ADDED to the humiliation. Unfortunately, it didn't happen. But the fact they've missed out on so many trophies is, I guess, good enough for me.

Final random thought - why is the United Kingdom no longer capable of winning the Eurovision Song Contest? Yeah, I admit, I was just watching bits of it. It wasn't even a bad entry this year, it really wasn't. Not like the one of 2006 - which was utter PANTS!!! As witnessed below . . .




Actually, THIS one is worse . . .




But THIS is a classic . . .



Why this one didn't win is beyond me - it must be one of the few entries that still get played years later!!! (I say that with complete sincerity, I must add!)

ps. Oh and if you happen to have a myspace account you can check out the first of the pics from the hen holiday which are now trickling in here...

I HAVE A NEW RESPECT FOR O.A.P.S . . .

I was exhausted, stressed, shaking with adrenalin, sore eyes and terrified . . . by the time me and my mate left Gala Bingo in Maryhill!

Yes, last night I lost my bingo virginity. And it was one of the more stressful nights in my life.

How the HECK do old people do it? I could not keep up at all, I was about five numbers behind the bingo caller at any one time, and I was so busy trying to catch up, I could have got a full house and not even NOTICED! I was also torn between wanting to win and being SCARED to win in case I had to shout out. "What am I meant to shout?" I kept asking my friend Michelle. Fair enough if I get a full house, I could shout "House". But if I get two lines, am I meant to shout out "two lines!"??? Michelle said I could shout anything, that "Oy!" would do! And to be perfectly honest, that kinda sounded like what the winners were shouting. But I was terrified that I might THINK i had won and then it would turn out I was wrong.

Luckily (or unluckily, rather) that problem never arose. I never even came CLOSE to winning.

The OAPs cleaned up.

I guess they have a lot more time to practice than me . . .

ADIOS ESPAGNE (OR HOWEVER YOU SPELL IT)

First of all, thanks to Chele for guestblogging in my absence - you rock, chick!!!

So I'm back. The holiday comedown isn't so bad this holiday around, but perhaps because I've been half asleep for the last two days. The flight from Alicante touched down in Glasgow at five past midnight and by the time my brother in law dropped me off it was half past one on Monday morning. I was in work for ten to eight the same morning. Barely slept last night too and was in work for eight again. Think I might need to sleep soon.

I had an awesome week - the weather wasn't as great as I hoped, but far better than was forecast. In the early twenties most of the time (isn't THAT ironic, ha!) and there was a good few hours of sunshine a day. Unlike the other girls, I was willing to lie out under the clouds waiting for the sun to appear. I liken it to being a surfer waiting for the perfect wave, although I don't surf so the metaphor is kinda redundant I guess. Anyway, what with my neverending patience when it comes to the art of sunbathing, and my previous holiday only being a month before, I'm actually feeling pretty tanned for a change. Need to maintain it somehow!!! (Sunbeds, sunbeds, sunbeds... No lectures please!)

But honestly, it was an amazing time. Days were spent lying on our roof terrace, which was incredible, and nights spent getting drunk and getting up to mischief. Notable moments include:

*Dancing topless on the roof terrace in the sunshine.

*Hanging out on a grassy roundabout in the middle of a busy road at one in the morning, where some of the girls practiced their pole dancing and I mastered the crab position again for the first time in years. Let's just say there were some puzzled motorists about that night!

*Later the same night . . . ending up in the back of a white van getting a lift off two strange guys who didn't speak English. Not the safest of options, I'm sure you'd agree . . . but all the other girls had jumped in (don't think they'd asked first!) and I didn't know how to get home myself! The girls proceeded to have a party with them in the apartment while I passed out cold in bed.

*Singing karaoke for the first time in about ten years. It was Shania Twain's "That Don't Impress Me Much". I don't think I particularly impressed my audience with my performance.

*Watching Rangers get a beating in the UEFA cup as we sat in an Irish bar. Don't think there was one person in there who wasn't cheering on the Russians, hehe!!!

It was the best time, although I have to admit it was hard to keep up with the other girls, most of whom were younger (once again, ironic, eh?) and full of beans. Meanwhile I was drunk, tired and ready to pass out hours beforehand.

And the weather waited until the hour before we left to get crap. It was pissing it down with rain when we headed to the airport. As we sat in the plane waiting to take off, realising we were the noisy passengers that other passengers tend to hate, the pilot or first officer or whatever told us it was mildly better weather in Scotland at that point. Which was almost funny . . .

The 28 cycle

When Paula recently guest blogged at my blog I asked her to blog about the subject on becoming the older woman. Recently both of us have been exposed to this.

My dear Puma who I often mention in my blog, he is one of my great loves. We parted not so long ago and after much confusion we remain very very good friends. Then of course on my birthday, that being my 28th birthday. I decide to celebrate with him after a long separation. My dear Puma then manages to do the graceful act on my birthday of saying the following in the most matter of fact tone, the way you would say oh, I bought some new shoes. He says
Oh, I just started seeing someone on a steady level, she is great.
That’s when the first bomb dropped in my head, second bomb was when the matter of fact talk continued with
she is Dutch, tall, a model (of course) and 21 years old.
TWENTYONE?? Puma is 31 by the way. Here I am fearing getting older, needing some boost and then having one of my biggest love telling me I have been replaced by a 21 year old. Happy fucking birthday.
Ah well, there is always a first thing for everything, that was the first time I experienced becoming the older woman.

Suddenly at that moment so many things started to make sense to me, I understood what it was that I once did myself back when I was 21.
Actually I was 19 when I met my then 30-year-old boyfriend, we were together for 3 years. It was so hard for me because his friends, the girls, the ex had looks that would have killed me on the spot. I didn’t understand why they hated me so much. I am kind, fun and I cared for Shorty, my ex. I was in the mentality that age is nothing but a number. That’s what I was thinking at 20. I was making them feel old and I had no idea what I did to their self-esteem before it happened to me.

At 28 I realized something she will too one day, it’s not her. It’s her age. I envy it, I know these young women are smart and bright as hell. It is a female insecurity that is sad but true all us women have. We feel like it´s a race for us out there when it comes to men and work. I don´t find many men I like around my age and when I do I would like to keep them in my life and not having them running to 21 year olds, they can stick to their own age group. Listen to me being a hypocrite since I used to run after the older boys. Hehehe..thats how you grow.

It started two years ago when my friends suddenly started to hit on younger and younger girls, we were suddenly boring. The worst part is, I am still hated for still being 28 by older women who give me looks when their husbands glance at me when I walk past. It will never end this vicious cycle of women wanting to keep their youth forever. Trust me, TRUST ME, I never felt like this before, this whole age thing. Then one day BHAM it hit and I realized that I was a woman now, not a little girl anymore.

I talked to Puma about this and how it made me feel, that it was a little hit on my self-esteem. He was so understanding and he said to me
¨Michele, the difference is you know how it is like to be in both places, these young girls only know the age their and you have passed that already, they have years before they become 28. Therefore they cannot appreciate it the way you do. You know yourself by now. They still have so much to learn about many things on who they want to be. You are at the stage where you have passed all the stages and concluding it all together so you can bring it to the next decade of your life. ¨
Maybe Puma didn’t replace me with a younger version after all, not so dumb that boy, he said I was irreplaceable. I am ok with the Deutch, I am very happy for him and I know she will never replace my shoes, she will fill his life with something else that is meaningful. I mean of course I naturally get a tad bit arrrggh but that is only normal of any woman, girl to feel.

For so long I wondered what my 20s would be about, I had this yearning to find myself.
I spent year’s with major ups and downs, making wrong choices, making right choices and making some very drastic choices, because it is during your 20 somethings you should make all the drastic choices.
I look at my book shelf and see all these self help sort of books and these guidance books I bought this past decade in order to try and help to find myself.
I finally understand it was not just about finding myself, it was also about me becoming a woman and defining what kind of woman I want to be.
I was in such a rush thinking I knew it all at 21, 24, 26 and now 28…I know when I’m 40 I will look back and laugh even more on what I thought I knew.

Now at 28, I have had a very looooong dark deep depression and some time to re focus.
After 10 years trying to figure out who I am. I finally found my own foundation and beliefs for what I stand for.
To put it in a metaphor I feel like my early twenties was like clay on a ceramic spinning board with my hands molding the clay to become something, only I was never satisfied with the shape and kept starting over and over and it got all messy.
Then I got a roll of it and started to build up my clay to a long mold and it took great shape, then it all fell apart. When the mess was all over the place I took a break, cleaned up my mess, focused, relaxed and started shaping the bowl of who I want to be in this life and what I want to fill the bowl with.
I am not even nearly done, there are many stages left, but I have built my foundation.

No longer do I fear age, becoming 30..I don’t think about it, because today being 28, living the way I do, doing what I do, I love every second of it but it took my years as a 20 something thinking I knew it all to know that in fact I know nothing at all. That to experience life as it is, welcome all obstacles because you survive no matter what and I promise there is so much more good awaiting in the future, so don´t rush growing up because trust me you will grow up before you know it.

Michele

cheer me up Tuesdays, The Tambourine edition.

Paula is not a big fan of Tuesday´s so she calls it cheer me up Tuesdays.
So I thought for today I would play one of my favorite pastime games. I seriously do this all the time. I have done this a few times before over at my blog, I stole the idea from another blog. Some might have played the i-tunes personality game

Here's how it works:
1. Put your iTunes on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write that song name down no matter what.


Q. What would best describe your personality?
A. Favorite things, Incubus. Interesting...I live my life doing my favorite things. Incubus is also my favorite band.

Q. If some one says it's okay you say...
A. Daytime Nighttime suffering, Wingspan with Paul Macca. Heheheh this one made me giggle

Q. What do you like in a guy/girl?
A. So this is love, OST from Disney´s Cinderella. Oh my gosh that is so beyond fairy tale cheezy. I love that I have this song on my Ipod.


Q. How do you feel today?
A. I get a kick out of you, Frank Sinatra. Aww well I am in a very happy place these days and I am getting a kick out of having a new crush. Liking this game today.


Q. What is your life's purpose?
A. More, Madonna. Wow, I don´t settle for less do I? Subtlety is not my thing

Q. What is your motto?
A. Gypsy girl, wet wet wet, oh my gosh....I forgot about this band. I used to LOVE this band when I was like 14. Was in love with Marti Pellow the lead singer. Hey they are from Scotland as well. I went to their concert once. dressed in quilt fabric top to bottom...nice.

Q. What do your friends think of you?
A. Spies, Coldplay. Yup people come to me when they need information, and I get the information they need as well. I would make a good agent. Have good instincts.

Q. What do you think about very often?
A. Dream a little dream of me, mama cass. This is either very sad or very narcissistic. not sure which one.


Q. What do you think of the person you love?
A. When my guitar gently weeps, Eric Clapton and George Harrison. Now this is one of my all time favorite songs. When I think about it, this is a beautiful love song.

Q. What is your life story?
A. Express yourself, Madonna. Truer words could not have been said.


Q. What do you think when you see the person you love?
A. Groove is in the heart, dee lite. Hehehe oh yeah

Q. What will they play at your funeral?
A. Y.M.C.A Oh dear Mother of God. You have to be kidding me?? Of course this song had to be the funeral question hilarious.

Guest blogging

Hi, my name is Chele.
The ever so lovely Paula has so kindly asked me to guest blog here while she is away on her hen party holiday in Spain. I usually blog HERE if you want to find out a bit about me. I will try to cover some topics that Paula and me often discuss and have in common this week as I guest blog.

I think it is only appropriate to start my guest blog here and talk about Paula.
Paula is whom I consider my first true blogger friend.
When I first started bloggin it was for me, it was a place for me to creatively vent. It felt like an extension of my diary.
When I first entered the blogging world I never thought about other bloggers out there, it never crossed my mind to make friends with anyone.
Then I started to discover blogs that I liked and I related to, I was so pleased to see how eloquent people could write about the daily things in their life, I loved reading the way people wrote. It captivated me. One day there was a comment on one of my posts from a girl named Polly. I checked out her blog as I do with all people who leave comments, pleasantly surprised I found myself laughing out loud as I read through her posts. Here was a girl who really knew how to write well and I felt I really connected to. End of our 20s, facing the same sort of dilemmas. I instantly liked her. From that day we would read each other’s daily posts religiously. Then came the time I entered a very dark time in my life and fell into a very deep depression, during that time having virtual friends was such a comfort because they would give you such honest truths, it was a support system like no other, it truly helped me knowing people were reading and caring about my very dark thoughts at that time.
Having people who you never met on the other side of the world who genuinely care for your well being, well that just shows the beauty of humanity.

So how did Paula become a true blogger friend? Well eventually not only did we comment on each others posts, suddenly we exchanged mails, and we exchanged personal information, trust was developed, friendship. I think I mentioned it to Paula once but it sometime feels like Beaches or the 80s when you would have pen pals whom you would share everything with.

I really want to meet Paula one day, and I know we will. I think it will be a blast. I just hope she will understand my sometimes slurry all over the place accent and that I will understand her Scottish accent, I am still not sure what sort of accent she has.

Ok thats the intro guys. More posts to come.

Chele

WEDDING FEVER...

I was at a wedding last night, which was a great night of drunken fun, but also reminded me I'm very much single. Not that I want to get married anytime soon, don't get me wrong. In fact, sometimes I not sure I will ever want to get married, it's such a commitment and therefore freaks me out more than a little when I ever think about it. But at times like this, I guess it's a clear reminder of what I don't have.

Anyway, the wedding was great. It was almost a celebrity wedding, as the bride and groom were in the Scottish Sun on Friday due to the groom leaving his honeymoon to go to see Rangers in the UEFA cup final in Manchester . . . and the bride financing the adventure. Now that's true love for you! I'm not sure I would be so understanding - perhaps because I'm not a massive football fan and can't really understand other people's fascination with the sport.

Me and my work colleague started getting our drink on while on the train down to the wedding, which was in Ayrshire. It was like being a teenager again, smuggling drink somewhere we weren't meant to have it. Irn Bru Wkd in . . . Irn Bru plastic bottles (that was the best disguise), and white wine in little bottles of some weird kind of Lucozade. It didn't exactly make us drunk (there wasn't enough for that) but I'd say we were mildly merry.

Despite having cancelled our room reservation for the Travelodge afterwards, we ended up sharing a room with a couple of guys from work, which involved a bit of a game of non-musical beds during the night, as we all switched about trying to get comfortable. I didn't realise how drunk I had been until I woke up feeling like utter shite this morning. I think one of the blokes summed up how we were all feeling pretty succinctly when he said "I feel like a pig has shat on my face."

I had two breakfasts cos I couldn't decide whether I wanted something sweet or savoury - one of those heart-attack-on-a-plate styl-ee breakfasts loaded with eggs, beans, fried bread, hash browns and the works (I never realised how bloody fantastic baked beans are when you are nursing a hangover) and the pancake-and-syrup breakfast. I felt slightly better afterwards, but it was only once I got home and got a proper sleep for a few hours that I actually started to feel more myself again.

Now I have to start packing for Spain. Annoyingly, the weather looks like it is going to be completely shite. Which is just typical. Rain, thunderstorms, clouds, not even particularly warm by Spain standards. I'm very depressed by this news!!!

But at least I'm escaping for a while. They say a change is as good as a rest - I just hope the weather forecasters have it as wrong as they usually do!!!


PS. Hopefully Chele is going to guest-blog in my absence. I'm not sure yet whether it will be one post or whether she will do a few, but she'll keep things ticking over, I'm sure! :)

HOLIDAY ENVY . . .

I don't get it. I was standing in the queue at the bureau de change at Marks and Sparks, waiting to change my pounds sterling for euros . . . and idly eavesdropping on the family getting served in front of me.

"So where are you off to then?" the guy behind the counter asked.

"We're off to New York. For a family wedding." the guy replied.

So I'm waiting for my euros. For my holiday in two days time to Spain. And I'm jealous of someone else going on holiday. I don't even know why! I don't even particularly want to go to New York - it's somewhere I want to go eventually, but it's not on my list of top destinations at the moment. I found myself looking around the rest of the people in the queue, wondering where they were all planning on going. And getting jealous of them too.

The grass is always greener, I guess . . .

IN HEAT...

Not in that way.

We are in the midst of a minor heatwave right now. Actually, by Scotland's standards, this is probably in fact considered a major heatwave. The second the sun comes out for more than ten seconds, Glaswegians suddenly come pouring out of the woodwork (or possibly the pub?) and every park, random patch of grass and, er, beer garden is suddenly full to the brim of half-dressed Scots rapidly pinkening in the sunshine. The only reason we perhaps see slightly less sunburn than I remember from my childhood is more-than-likely due to our prolific use of sunbeds.

Anyway, I adore the sunshine just as much as the average person who only sees a few sunny days a year if they're lucky. And I hate the fact I have to be in work while the sun is beating down on all the unemployed/students/work-weird-hours people who get to laze around in the park*. I hate having to sit in a badly air conditioned office, sweltering in my (idea of) office dress. I hate having to try to concentrate on actually doing work when my brain is already out of the door and mentally lazing in the Botanic Gardens while the sun fries me to a crisp.

Today I decided to put aside my jeans (I've been living in jeans since I returned to Gran Canaria, as I couldn't be bothered ironing any black trousers) and actually wear a skirt to work. There were various reasons for this, some which I don't care to go into, but I decided that a skirt would be a little bit cooler than my jeans, so it was more practical. I dithered between my old falling-apart-but-unbelievably comfortable wedges and my brand spanking new I'm-taking-you-two-on-holiday wedges that I bought the other day. And opted for the second. Big mistake. Massive mistake.

I'm now crippled.

It took a mere ten minutes for my feet to ache and the wedges to be rapidly filling up with my blood. I ended up wearing my flatmate's slipper things on the walk to work - she had brought them to wear in the office so obviously I had to swap back to my own shoes once I got there. She procured me some plasters and I put them in the places which hurt the most. They brought temporary relief but in the afternoon OTHER parts of my feet started to hurt.

I swear to god, the devil made these shoes. They are EVIL. There is no other word for it. Pure, unadulterated, you-must-have-killed-in-a-previous-life-to-be-punished-like-this-now evil! I was in agony. And I had a forty five minute walk home to look forward to (read: dread).
The plasters fell off on the walk home. So now there was not one part of my feet not hurting. On top of that, the skirt I was wearing fell a couple of inches below the knee and was pencil style. Therefore, I was forced to take tiny little steps, and therefore couldn't walk as fast as I wanted to. So I was struggling to walk with the skirt on, struggling to walk cos of my feet threatening to fall off . . . oh, and of course, struggling to walk because of the whole heatwave thing!

My feet are covered in blood. But I made it in the door. I nearly cried in relief as I saw my building looming in front of me, like some sort of sick mirage. I nearly collapsed once inside the flat door. The first thing I kicked off, unsurprisingly, were my shoes.
I never want to put shoes on again . . but I HAVE to in about half an hour as I'm off out for dinner.


* By the way, why is it that people sunbathing in Kelvingrove Park are seemingly incapable of clearing up after themselves? i know people are lazy and all, but it's a public place for heaven's sake! Me and my flatmate were walking through it this morning and the main hill people tend to sit on was completely covered in rubbish. You could barely see the grass! What the heck!!!

YOU HAVE TO READ THIS (DISCLAIMER: NO OFFENCE INTENDED TO AUSTRALIANS!)

My friend and former flatmate introduced me to the hilarity that was satirewire last week and I loved this story so much that I've been talking about it everywhere and anywhere I can...

(Sorry for the lack of formatting but I can't be bothered spacing it out properly - done enough of that already today. But if you want the full story avec illustrations - which kinda adds to the hilarity, go here)

AUSTRALIA GETS DRUNK, WAKES UP IN NORTH ATLANTIC

Tired of Being Isolated and Ignored, Continent Isn't Bloody Moving

Sydney, 800 miles S. of Nova Scotia (SatireWire.com) — After what witnesses described as an all night blinder during which it kept droning on about how it was always being bloody ignored by the whole bloody world and would bloody well stand to do something about it, Australia this morning woke up to find itself in the middle of the North Atlantic.

"Good Lord, that was a booze up," said a bleary-eyed Australian Prime Minister, John Howard, speaking from his residence at Kirribilli House, approximately 600 nautical miles east of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina.
According to Australians and residents of several countries destroyed or lewdly insulted during the continent's nearly 7,000-mile saltwater stagger, the binge began just after noon yesterday at a pub in Brisbane, where several patrons were discussing Australia Day and the nation's general lack of respect from abroad.
"It started off same as always; coupla fossils saying how our Banjo Patterson was a better poet than Walt Whitman, how Con the Fruiterer is funnier than Seinfeld, only they're Aussies so no one knows about 'em," recalled witness Kevin Porter. "Then this bloke Martin pipes up and says Australia's main problem is that it's stuck in Australia, and everybody says 'Too right!'"
"Well, it made sense at the time," Porter added.
By 2 a.m., powered by national pride and alcohol, the 3-million-square-mile land mass was barging eastward through the Coral Sea and crossing into the central Pacific, leaving a trail of beer cans and Chinese take-away in its wake.
When dawn broke over the Northern Hemisphere, the continent suddenly found itself, not only upside down, but smack in the middle of the Atlantic, and according to most of its 19 million inhabitants, that's the way it's going to stay.
"We sent troops to Afghanistan. You never hear about it. We have huge government scandals. You never hear about it. It's all 'America did this,' and 'Europe says that,'" exclaimed Perth resident Paul Watson. "Well, we're right in the thick of things now, so let's just see if you can you ignore us."

Officials on both sides of the Atlantic conceded that would be difficult. "They broke Florida," said U.S. State Department spokesman Richard Boucher. "And most of Latin America is missing."
Meanwhile, victims of what's already been dubbed the "Australian Crawl" are still shaking off the event.
"Australia bumped into us at about midnight local time," said Hawaii governor Ben Cayetano. "They were very friendly — they always seem friendly — but they refused to go around unless we answered their questions. But the questions were impossible. 'Who is Ian Thorpe? Do you have any Tim Tams? What day is Australia Day?'"
"Fortunately, somebody here had an Unimportant World Dates calendar and we aced the last one," Cayetano added.
Panama, however, was not so lucky.
"Australia came through here screaming curses at us to let them through," said Ernesto Carnal, who guards the locks at the entrance to the Panama Canal. "We said they would not fit, so they demanded to speak with a manager. When I go to find Mr. Caballos, they sneak the whole continent through."
When Caballos shouted to the fleeing country that it had not paid, Australia "accidentally" backed up and took out every nation in the region, as well as the northern third of Venezuela. They then made up a cheery song about it.
By late morning today, however, not everyone in Australia was quite so blithe. "We've still got part of Jamaica stuck to Queensland," said Australian army commander Lt. Gen. Peter Cosgrove. "I think we might have declared war on it. I don't bloody remember. Maybe it's time to go home."

Cosgrove, however, is not in the majority, and at press time, U.S., African, and European leaders were still desperately trying to negotiate for Australia's withdrawal. But the independent-minded Aussies were not making it easy. In a two-hour meeting at midday, Australian representatives listed their demands: immediate inclusion in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, a permanent CNN presence in all 6 Australian states, a worldwide ban on hiring Paul Hogan, a primetime U.S. television contract for Australian Rules Football, and a 4,500-mile-long bridge between Sydney and Los Angeles.
U.S. negotiators immediately walked out, calling the Australian Rules Football request "absurd."

BLOG-HOPPING

I've blog-hopped for the first time today and guest-blogged over at Chele's blog on a subject we've both been thinking a lot about of late. Feel free to pop over and check it out. In the meantime, I have today off work due to the bank holiday so think I might go outside and enjoy the rare sunshine for a while... :)

WHAT A BRILLIANT SATURDAY THIS IS GOING TO BE...

You ever had one of those days where someone discovers a whole bunch of work which should have already been done in a totally out-of-the-way place that you wouldn't have expected to find it, and stresses how much it needs to be done? That basically someone else put it there and somewhere along the chain of communication, the fact it was there, and needed to be done, seemed to not be communicated?

The upshot being that I now feel obliged to work, despite the fact it's a holiday weekend. Hey-ho.

That being said, at the same time I can't just go into work and actually get a start on it because I'm stuck in my flat waiting in for a bloody package. The coursework for this writing thing I mentioned. I've actually had to pay an extra fifteen quid to get it delivered on a saturday morning and it has until midday to show up. And it bloody well better show up!!!

To top it all off, I have a hangover head, from me and my friend getting drunk last night . . . and doing party dances. Lots of "Saturday Night", "Wig Wam Bam" and the like. Great night. But I'm suffering from it now.

Gonna lie back down on my bed for a bit now (and hope not to fall asleep and miss the delivery dude). I think I need to be horizontal to feel better. Shame I have no one to be horizontal with. Now that might make me feel much better ... ;)

ONWARDS AND UPWARDS...

I think I have quite a lot of things planned over the coming months to keep me busy and smiling. For example...

• Going to my friend's wedding next weekend
• Going to the hen holiday to Spain in less than a fortnight - woohoo!!!
• Possible trips planned to Ireland (northern AND southern), Milan and perhaps even Tunisia(!!!). (Time off permitting . . .)
• Possibly finding a super-dooper AWESOME job that keeps me stimulated and gives me tons of dosh (you never know...)
• Getting healthy (possibly even getting my appetite back!)
• Spending tons of time with my friends
• Taking up badminton and swimming again
• Sunbathing in the Botanic Gardens with a good book (weather permitting) while surreptitiously ogling the dudes :)
• Doing the writing course I've signed up for (if I ever manage to be in when they're delivering the coursework...)
• Finding a nice man who makes me happy (it could happen!!!)

That's all I can think of for now, but it will do for the moment methinks!!! Ooh, and one of my best friends is moving into my flat this weekend so I'll finally have a flatmate who is a friend again! Makes a change... :)