So...why the 'No Drinking' resolution has fallen down...
1) I had a blind date. It all gets a bit confusing...Cherlotte's boyfriend's friend Nick is up here working for BP...and so Charlotte embarked on some long-distance set-up. And there was no way in hell I was going on a blind date without any alcohol passing my lips. It went well, he's a nice enough bloke, just...not much in the way of sparks! C'est la vie.
2) Kirsty's Birthday. Kirsty's had a fairly stressful start to the year and so her birthday was celebrated by the two of us getting plastered in my living room. Good time was had by all.
It is also Up Helly Aa on Tuesday (so expect a fairly hefty post telling you all about that) and from what I can gather, Up Helly Aa is used as an excuse for a) Socially sanctioned, nay, expected, excessive alcohol consumption, and b)institutional transvestitism (is that even a word?). Should be good. As I type, Sarah is braving the mammoth journey north to join me in this traditional celebration of Shetland's Viking Heritage (or 'Speed-dating on an Island-Wide Scale' as I am personally viewing it) so, hopefully, much fun and hilarity will be had in teh next few days. Hurrah! Roll on the Vikings.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Recap of the past month Part II
The remainder of the holidays progressed as expected - some family feuds, the usual mix of the expected, the disappointed, and the downright mental on the present front, eating far too much, and catching up with friends.
This was enlivened somewhat by the last-minute return of Vicki from her global jaunts. She's been travelling for almost two years so it was good to see her back in the 'Burgh in time for Hogmanay. This involved the usual excessive drinking (I have absolutley NO memories of the Bells) and, even though we'd purchased tickets for Le Monde, we still ended up in The World (and yes, I am aware of the comedy of leaving Le Monde for The World) for it's last hurrah under current management. Which, in turn, meant the annual Hogmanay entertainment of watching Jamie trying desperatley to get into Cheryl's knickers. He's been trying every New Year for roughly the past 7 years, is knocked back every year, but has that deterred him? Not a jot! You really have to admire his perseverance.
Needless to say, New Year's Day passed in a blur of hangover hell, and so 2007 began in much the same way as every other year of the 21st century - with me swearing to never drink again. I'd like to say I've actually kept that resolution up for once, but...well...that's another story.
I finally returned to Shetland on January 5th and was back to school on the Monday. And so now it's back to the normal routine. School...home...gym...that's about it.
This was enlivened somewhat by the last-minute return of Vicki from her global jaunts. She's been travelling for almost two years so it was good to see her back in the 'Burgh in time for Hogmanay. This involved the usual excessive drinking (I have absolutley NO memories of the Bells) and, even though we'd purchased tickets for Le Monde, we still ended up in The World (and yes, I am aware of the comedy of leaving Le Monde for The World) for it's last hurrah under current management. Which, in turn, meant the annual Hogmanay entertainment of watching Jamie trying desperatley to get into Cheryl's knickers. He's been trying every New Year for roughly the past 7 years, is knocked back every year, but has that deterred him? Not a jot! You really have to admire his perseverance.
Needless to say, New Year's Day passed in a blur of hangover hell, and so 2007 began in much the same way as every other year of the 21st century - with me swearing to never drink again. I'd like to say I've actually kept that resolution up for once, but...well...that's another story.
I finally returned to Shetland on January 5th and was back to school on the Monday. And so now it's back to the normal routine. School...home...gym...that's about it.
I'm rubbish - recap of the past month Part I
Good lord it's been a while! Was it really 16th December last time I posted? Wow - my bad.
Actually, I have been aware of my spectacular crapness on the blogging front recently (thanks Chloe for the rather pointed reminder on MySpace by the way!), it's just that it sort of got to the 'I don't even know where to start' stage. So...I've finally accepted that I need to bite the bullet and get blogging again.
Christmas was good, and somewhat unprecedented in recent years by the fact that I managed to spend more than my usual 48 hours in my mother's house without storming out and not speaking to her until some time in early April (usually just in time to ensure that I do actually get a birthday present!). Granted, I didn't arrive on my finest form - we'd had the school's christmas piss-up the night before my departure from Shetland, and, inevitably, all good intentions of having an early night in preparation for my 6am departure to the airport went sailing out the window. Long story short, I lurched home at god-only-knows when, passed out, slept through my alarm and was awoken by the taxi driver pounding on the door shortly after 6am. Cue me, ripping through the house like a banshee (thankfully I had had the foresight to do most of my packing in advance), trying to make sure I had everything.
I didn't.
I finally got into the taxi around 6.25am still drunk and wearing no socks, with my makeup still on from the previous night, and my hair unbrushed. And one earring, as I discovered on the journey to the airport. We did make it in time for my flight, although I was the last person checked in and did recieve some rather dirty looks, and then proceeded to kangaroo the entire way across the North Sea and in to Edinburgh. Thankfully, my mother's concern for the puppy's safe arrival (not mine you might notice) had led her to book and pay for a taxi from Edinburgh Airport. Also rather fortunately, I knew the driver of old and so was only fairly mortified when, having survived all bar 2 miles of the journey home, I had to call for an emergency stop so I could throw up into the verge. Lovely.
Upon arrival at my mother's I presented her with puppy and went to bed. When I finally surfaced, several hours later and with a raging hangover, I discovered that I'd brought my toothbrush and moisturiser, but no other toilettries, my phone, but not my charger, and my DS charger, but not my DS. Brilliant.
Actually, I have been aware of my spectacular crapness on the blogging front recently (thanks Chloe for the rather pointed reminder on MySpace by the way!), it's just that it sort of got to the 'I don't even know where to start' stage. So...I've finally accepted that I need to bite the bullet and get blogging again.
Christmas was good, and somewhat unprecedented in recent years by the fact that I managed to spend more than my usual 48 hours in my mother's house without storming out and not speaking to her until some time in early April (usually just in time to ensure that I do actually get a birthday present!). Granted, I didn't arrive on my finest form - we'd had the school's christmas piss-up the night before my departure from Shetland, and, inevitably, all good intentions of having an early night in preparation for my 6am departure to the airport went sailing out the window. Long story short, I lurched home at god-only-knows when, passed out, slept through my alarm and was awoken by the taxi driver pounding on the door shortly after 6am. Cue me, ripping through the house like a banshee (thankfully I had had the foresight to do most of my packing in advance), trying to make sure I had everything.
I didn't.
I finally got into the taxi around 6.25am still drunk and wearing no socks, with my makeup still on from the previous night, and my hair unbrushed. And one earring, as I discovered on the journey to the airport. We did make it in time for my flight, although I was the last person checked in and did recieve some rather dirty looks, and then proceeded to kangaroo the entire way across the North Sea and in to Edinburgh. Thankfully, my mother's concern for the puppy's safe arrival (not mine you might notice) had led her to book and pay for a taxi from Edinburgh Airport. Also rather fortunately, I knew the driver of old and so was only fairly mortified when, having survived all bar 2 miles of the journey home, I had to call for an emergency stop so I could throw up into the verge. Lovely.
Upon arrival at my mother's I presented her with puppy and went to bed. When I finally surfaced, several hours later and with a raging hangover, I discovered that I'd brought my toothbrush and moisturiser, but no other toilettries, my phone, but not my charger, and my DS charger, but not my DS. Brilliant.
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