A Christmas Quest

Yesterday, I headed over to my aunt's house to partake in a Christmas tradition with my mum, aunt and wee cousins of making Christmas sweets together. As I left my flat to make my way over to the train station, I suddenly realized that I hadn't accounted for the heavy bags I was carrying and it would take me longer than usual to get to the station. Frantic to get there in time, I started an awkward shuffle run my bags slamming into my legs threatening to trip me at every step. A short ways up the road, and knew I wasn't going to make it. There was less than ten minutes to the train and I still had a steep hill to climb. And then, my Christmas miracle happened!

A cabbie pulled up besides me and the driver yelled for me to get in. Not really thinking, I obeyed. "Going to the station, are you? Well, I'll get you there in time. The next train doesn't come for another hour." And he proceed to drive me to the station and refused to take any money. Those few minutes were all I needed and I did make my train and got to spend a most lovely afternoon with my family.

Full of surprise and downright shock over the unexpected kindles of a total stranger, I gushed to my friends online as to how perhaps the spirit of the season was indeed alive and well.

Then I woke up this morning to the news of two firefighters who were fatally shot as they responded to the scene of a house fire. Two others were wounded and as the story unfolded it became clear that the shooter had set the fire to lure out the first responders. Today. On Christmas Eve.

All of the euphoria over yesterday's event seemed to drain right out of me. "It's not such a wonderful world after, is it?" was my query to the online world. What was the point in being silly happy over something ordinary like a generous cabbie when there were bigger, far more horrible things were happening that need our more serious attention.

But I have very wise friends, and one of them gently pointed out that both events happened. Both truths are true. The important part is that I get to choose which of these will touch me most deeply and change me most persistently. Sometimes we hone ourselves because of negative experiences and sometimes due to positive ones. Always our choice. 

Her words made me pause and think. 

Yes, there is an awful lot of horror in this world. But at every step there has been a teeny tiny glimmer of hope. Each time there is some kind of disaster, be it natural or manmade, humanity finds a way to shine through. Neighbours organized community Thanksgiving meals after Hurricane Sandy   and in the wake of the unspeakable horror of the events in Newton, CT, the #26Acts campaign was formed. 

So perhaps hope is still alive. And as long as at least one person hopes and believes in a better tomorrow, isn't that enough to keep the evil at bay? In the words of a very wise wizard, "It's not great power that that can hold evil in check. Rather, it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love." 

If a hobbit can face a dragon, I can find the courage in me to face the dragons of this world. And I know I won't be alone. All of the mighty quests involved a fellowship. There will be others, and we will help each other if one of us should stumble along the way. 

It's going to be a Happy Christmas after all. 

5 Ways to Guarantee a Christmas Miracle

There's been a lot of talk about "not feeling Christ-massy" that's been going around of late. The malls are packed (over packed) with shoppers, the radio stations have blasting carols since way back in November and every street corner and lamp post is bedecked with holly, ivy and synthetic tinsel. Huuum, yes, well I can see why it can perhaps look like Christmas and sound like Christmas and smell like Christmas, but still not really FEEL like Christmas.

So, rather than sit around and moan about how Climate Change has made it soooooo difficult to really enjoy the season without the mandatory dusting of snow and such, here are 5 ways guaranteed to make you feel joyful and bright and all that Christmas jazz.

1. Winter Wonder Walk
If Christmas has really become all about the commercialism, well, why not just embrace it instead of fighting it? Pop on a headset with some classic seasonal tunes and talk a walk along main street and check out the beautifully decorated shop windows. Merchandisers have gone all out in their efforts to out do each other and lure in the most number of shoppers. Might as well give them their due and enjoy their creativity while humming along some of your favourite songs of the season.

2. Bake Fest
Nothing screams festivities more like the wondrous aroma of baking. Gather some of your close pals and try out some old family favouries or attempt a new concoction. The results don't even matter. It's all the fun you will have in the process that counts!

3. Letter of Thanks
In spite of how crappy you are currently feeling about your apparent lack of seasonal cheer, let's stop a second to think about the hundreds of thousands of men and women of the military who are far away from home and their loved ones serving their countries. Sure, it's not like bygone times and they have access to the internet and can still keep up with happenings at home; but I'm sure a card with a wee note will make a world of difference. Even if you say nothing more than a simple "Thank You".

4. Share your Love
Pretty much every charity, homeless shelter or foster home out there is looking for volunteers to help out around the holidays. Heck, come to think of it, they're looking for a few good people year round. Walk into any one and there is a whole heap you can help with. Wrap a present for under the tree, serve a meal, read to someone or just have a chat. It will make more of a difference that you will ever know and the kick backs of goodwill towards mankind can never ever be underestimated.

5. Count your Blessings
Sounds corny, yes. But it is incredible how much we don't realise we have! But it all down on paper and when you see how it spills onto page two you'll find that all your Christmasses have come all at once!

Whether or not you decide to do any of this, I wish you, Dear Reader, a most happy of holiday seasons. May love and laughter be the gifts that adorn your home and the comfort and joy of friends and loved ones around.

Merry Christmas.

Tribute Act

Five weeks of hyper intensive planning activity all came to a head on Thursday night at the charity gig. The last week of planning was especially difficult. Ticket sales were nowhere near where they should have been and my supposed "helpers" were doing anything but. Three days before the event, the compere called to say that he wasn't going to be able make it and a day later the headliner sent me a message on Facebook (on Facebook!!!) to say that he'd gotten a paid gig and so couldn't do the event.

Suffice to say, by the time the day came around, I was stressed out of my mind and trying to desperately to juggle everything that had to be done all the while attempting to give off an aura that I actually everything under control. Thankfully, I have the world's BEST friends and they all rallied round to help out in every way that they could, even making sure I got a bite of a sandwich every time I ran past them!

The turn out wasn't as large as I'd hoped, and we had to wait a half hour to start the event so that the room looked filled out. Still, once it actually got going the crowd all seemed to be loving it and the acts were all in top form. We raised a tidy amount on the night from ticket and raffle sales and donations are still coming in.

It is two days later and I feel like I'm still recovering. But, it was worth every minute of anxiety and stress and I'm going to be a very happy bunny on Monday when I hand over the money to the charity. The evening was dedicated to the memory of the two grandparents I lost to that bastard disease. One was taken when she was barely 50; a life only part lived. The other I watched as the disease ripped through his frail body making the last months of his life a living hell.

This is the only way I know to honour them. Make them proud. 

Raining and Pouring

No reference to the weather. It has actually been rather bright and sunshiney over the past few days. I am instead talking about the tendency that just as soon as you are busy beyond belief, the universe, like a cruel and sadistic boss will turn around and make sure to pile on a couple of extra tasks into your already overflowing in basket.

Like right now. As if working two jobs plus planning a charity fundraiser that's happening in just about 3 weeks wasn't enough, I've just gotten an offer to write an article for a travel magazine. 2000 words on travel in Scotland by the end of the month. Additional problem, the magazine caters to the luxury travel clientele. So not my forte at all! And since I don't have any time to do proper research, I'll just have to go with the places that I've already been and try and write something that will turn my budget backpacking experiences into an article that will appeal to folks looking for that uber chic holiday extravaganza.

And yet, how can turn down the amazingly fantastic offer? Finally the opportunity to write about something that I am passionate about, and get paid to do that as well! And, if they actually like my work perhaps this would mean the start of a long term business relationship! If I can get it written in time. And get stuff done for the charity event. And go to work at my two part time jobs as well.

Pressure, much?

Mammoth Task, meet Pixy.

Somewhere in the latter months of last year, after attending a couple of Tuesday night comedy gigs in a row I was bestowed with the dubious status of "Comedy Groupie". Considering some of the things I have been called in the past, this wasn't all that bad! It also meant that I had a brand new - and ever increasing - circle of friends all networked into Scotland's comedy circuit.

It was a chance remark by one of my comedian pals that got me thinking about pairing up my new found friends with my energies as a fundraiser to get another event going. This time, it would be one that the "regular" folk could actually attend; no black ties, no £100 a plate tickets!

I approached the charity I'd worked with on all of the past eventsand outlined my plan to them. To me, it was a no brainer. If they covered my initial costs like venue hire, I could make sure they get that downpayment back.... and then some. However, they didn't think so and came up with every excuse in the book as to why they weren't able to support me and my idea. It was a stark reminder of my disaster interview from last year.

Not wanting to give up on a good idea, I went ahead and emailed a couple of other local charities. One of them got back to me and set up a meeting for this morning. We met, we chatted and in about an hour we'd worked out most of the details on how the charity could support my fundraising efforts. March 3rd is the magic date. And now I have the mammoth task of planning and executing a comedy nightcharity fundraiser in little over a month's time.

*Gulp*

And, for the record. I really prefer Band Aid as opposed to Groupie!

Doors Slamming, Windows Opening

It's only the very foolish who would think that once things start to go well, nothing but good will follow. There's still going to be things that will go askew. Its a cosmic reality. 



Being a tour guide was supposed to be my dream job. A combination of history, storytelling and being touristy; would anything else fit as well for me? It was all I had ever wanted in a job.... and then some. I worked hard to get in and spent countless hours doing research, putting together the perfect script, tapping into the inner actress to hone my storytelling skills. It was a proud moment when I lead my first group and I was so excited that I could barely stand still!

But not all was sunshine and lollipops. The company had a strict minimum 20% repeat rate that every tour guide had to maintain. The higher the repeat rate, the better the shifts you commanded. Also, living in G Town and having to commute over an hour to Edinburgh each time was also taking a toll. Both physically and financially. There were days when I'd travel there but the tour wouldn't run. Other days, I'd bust a gut for a group, but they wouldn't bother tipping, so I'd run at a loss. And let's not even get into the joys of having to lead a walking tour during a Spring downpour! Still, I persevered and gave it my all. Even so, my repeat rates were hovering dangerously close to the minimum threshold; I was in danger of loosing the one job that I'd wanted more than anything else. When I left for England at the end of June, I wasn't sure if I would be coming back to guiding. I was right. On getting back, I tried to contact the manager and team leader to ask to be put back on the rota. Emails, text messages, phone calls... all went unanswered. After two weeks of trying, I gave up. A few months ago, such a blow would have reduced me to a blubbering mess of tears, but not now. I took it as a sign that it wasn't meant to be. I'd given it my best shot and I'd truly enjoyed the 2 months that I'd spent as a guide. Also, I wasn't quite sure I wanted to continue working for a company that wasn't even professional enough to call and let me know that there wasn't a spot on the rota for me. That was just plain bad business manners.

Fast on the heels of that disappointment, came the Spanish debacle. A meet-up of friends from summer camp had been planned for Madrid and I was to head off to San Fernando and Barcelona after that. But that too t'was not meant to be. First there were problems with my passport as I had two months left on validity and the Spanish Embassy's website stated that it was "preferable" that there were three months validity. This would mean that I'd be at the mercy of the immigration officer upon arrival, and we all know just what wonderful souls of humanity they are. The last straw was this morning when I got an email from the airline stating that my outbound flight has been cancelled due to a Air Traffic Controllers strike in France. Flights scheduled to fly through French airspace have been diverted and those that cannot have been cancelled. I'm taking it as another sign.

That's the doors slamming part. Now, for those slowly opening windows.

Firstly, I'm going to get my documents together and apply for a new passport. I've saved the money on the outbound flight as the airline gave me a full refund. I've taken the money from the return flight and applied it instead to a return ticket to London for this weekend. If I cannot have a full on holiday, I'll take a mini break for a fun weekend with my pals. Also, I have a friend from the T Dot who's currently visiting London and it will be nice to catch up with a homie!

As for the dream job, well, I have a bigger and better plan. It may sound totally crazy, but here it is: I'm going to start my own tours right here in G Town. I already know that there's a huge gap in the market for walking tours aimed at the backpacker population. None exist. I've looked online, spoken to hostels and hotels and spoken with the tourist information services. There's the hop-on-hop-off bus tours, but that's it. I already know much of the history of the city and Scotland in general. Friends who have visited me have already benefited from a rough version of a G Town tour. I know I can do this. I WANT to do this. It will take hard work, long hours and loads of patience on my part, but I'm ready for it.

I'm taking charge and I'm making sure that the window opens. Heck, I'll bust a new one into the wall if I have to. This is one dream that will not be allowed to just slip away.

The Popular Vote

Summer camp is lovely; but it can also be a flash back to the high school type atmosphere of groups and cliques and the ever lasting battle between the cool kids and the rest of us mere mortals.

Within a few days of arriving here, I'd sussed out that there were various sub groups forming. Alliances had been made and while some hold all the right cards, there are others who will remain on the outside. By some miracle, I was admitted into the inner circle; but only just as I remain hovering near the edge. It is my inability, or rather my unwillingness to give in and just go with the flow; I ask too many questions, I refuse to let certain things just slide, I don't abide with mediocrity. All this made some people uncomfortable.

Some of my colleagues have been doing this for a number of years. It makes them experienced, but in many respects it also makes them lethargic. They've gone to the same museums, been on the same day trips and facilitated the same activities so many times that they're now running on auto pilot. On the other hand, there are other ALs who although cannot cite years of summer camp experience under their belt, are in fact quite happy and very eager to actually perform the duties for which we were all hired! But, just like in high school, if the "in" crowd isn't doing it, well it just ain't cool for you to go ahead and do it anyway.

Yesterday on a day trip to Brighton I was paired up with one of those cool kids. He made it very clear to me that I was to follow his lead and that meant giving the groups a quicky tour of the pier, pointing them in the direction of the shops and setting a meet back time. This would mean hours of free time for us to go off and do whatever we wanted. It wasn't like he was shirking his duties, just that I know we could have done so much better with pointing out the sights and sounds. And so I made a snap decision and announced to the group that I was heading off to the famed Pavilion and would be happy to take anyone who wanted to go there with me. More than half the group joined me. My colleague didn't say anything, but as he walked off towards the beach I knew he wasn't pleased. It hadn't been my intention to make him look bad, it just that I really wasn't comfortable with the situation.

I hadn't really prepared a walking tour and most of what I knew about Brighton and the Pavilion I had read on Wikipedia the day before! Still, at least it was something and I really do think the kids and the group leaders had a good time. Once done with the Pavillion, the consensus was for shopping and so I left them to it. Even after the additional tour, I still managed to have two hours to myself.

On the bus ride back, I got teased for being a keener. Perhaps I am. Perhaps I will be the butt of many jokes in the staff room. Perhaps I won't be on the next round of text messages inviting people to post work drinks.


Then again, I never did belong at the cool kids table. So I guess I'm ok with that after all.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Perhaps spurred into action by Aunty's choice remarks last week, Beans messaged me at work last Sunday. He knew it was my last shift doing customer service at one of the shopping centres in central G Town. Wanna get some ice cream? went the text.

Being a lovely and totally un G Town like day (i:e bright and sunny and warm), we took our ice creams and headed down to the river for a walk. We settled down on a patch of grass and there in the sunshine, Beans asked me if I'd like to try dating again.

At this point Dear Reader, you need to know some back story. I had thought Beans to be dating someone back in Feb. Turns out, it was A date and that was it. She told me herself, ironically at the next charity event when we met. She hadn't known about me and Beans at all, still doesn't as I kept my mouth shut. Beans and I had been on cordial terms for a long time. Occassionally we would meet up for a movie or dinner or something that sounded like a date, but really wasn't. Yes, there was sex from time to time. Not regular and not often, but sometimes it happened. Please don't judge me, I am merely human.

Bottom line, things were actually quite good between us.

And then he drops this bombshell. I was uncharacteristicly quiet as I considered the question. six months ago, I would have jumped at the chance of a reunion, but now I wasn't so sure. I had finally found myself in a good place; rather a better place than the bog I was struggling in ever since last September. Convinced that the doorway leading to a relationship had been slammed shut forever, I had tried so hard to work on maintaining a semblance of a friendship between us. After all, it wasn't possible to totally cut off ties. We had too many friends in common and our paths were always going to keep crossing socially.

When I gave my answer, it was a guarded one. I did agree to try again, but I also stipulated that if we were going to date, it would have to be something that we both worked on. We would need to try and truly include the other in our lives and yes, the dating would have to be exclusive. Beans agreed to it all.

I met him briefly last Thursday, the evening before I left for my holiday. There dídn't seem to be anything amiss. Then today, I get back from a totally lovely day of sighseeing with my friend, open up my email and find this waiting for me:

Pixy,
As you know, our relationship has been over for quite some time now and has
been purely physical since then. I've really enjoyed the times we've spent alone
together. I'm really sorry, but, on Friday I met someone and I think I've got a
chance to make a go of it. Although I don't want to exclude you from my life, I
don't think its a good idea that we continue the relationship we've been having
until recently. I hope you understand where I'm coming from as I think this is
for the best and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.
Beans.

Reader, HOW could I have let myself get fooled yet again? And dammit.... couldn't he have waited just a few more days so that I would at least have a decent holiday?

*shakes head sadly*

Voodoo Cleansing

There is some funky magic happening right now. My past lives are being investigated. Somewhere in some previous existence I must have done something very very naughty. There must have been something so horrible that I have done either in this, or another life that I am paying paying paying dearly for right now.

Like the fact that exactly a month ago, Boss Man called to assure me that although he had dissolved the company it would only be a matter of a week before he had the new office up and running and I would be back at work.

A week passed, and then another. I went to Paris and returned. In between, I made a fair few calls to Boss Man, sent along a few text messages and emails as well. I finally got a text message back saying that the new office would be up and running by the end of week. When I hadn't heard back by Thursday afternoon, I sent along another text message and email asking if we could meet so that I could collect February's pay.

Since then, its been regular phone calls, text messages and emails to him asking the same question - When am I to be paid? No reply.

By my calculations, he owes me around £700 for a combination of work hours and expenses. That works out to 2 months rent... and then some. Groceries. Real food for a change. Don't get me wrong, the yogurt and raisins diet is making me very regular, but I'm kind of craving actual meals again.

And then there's all those pesky bills from the Paris trip. Which was only booked in the first place as I figured that I would be working for a few weeks and I'd be able to afford it all right.

Right now, I'm just hoping that the witch doctor soon runs out of pins to poke into the Pixy doll and that the fires of the strange magic are extinguished soon. Very soon!

Whos That Girl?

Rain Man's previous comment on my girliness - or thereby lack of - was weighing heavily on my mind. Normally, I would have shrugged off the remark, stuck my tongue out at him and moved on back to the couch in my PJs and fav sweatshirt.

But something made me pause. In a mere week I was about to descend on the fashion capital of the world, Paris. There was no way I was going to make my entrance into mainland Europe looking like something even the cat wouldn't drag in.

And so, I have tentatively stepped upon the road to transformation. In heels of course!
Update: I had suffered through DQ's birthday party in these heels, but thanks to my week's regime of stretching them out with fluffy socks they were super comfy (ok, more like moderately bearable) for Saturday night's festivities. *heel click in glee*

Armed and Dangerous

Planning events is always fun. Hard work, long hours and usually cause for consumption of more than one headache pill, but still, fun.

Except this time. Mr. Big Fat Rich Racing Stables Owner, who is the host of the event is, quite plainly, a Big Fat Mico Manager Pain in the Backend. He's wanting to oversee every little angle of the planning process and then looks over and double checks every decision that we make. Most tiresome really, and things take twice as long to get done now that everything (and I DO mean everything) MUST be run by Mr. Anally Obsessive.

Take for example, the seating plan. Always an ardours task since every single guest wishes to have a "good" table, as close to the dance floor as possible. Still, at the last ball, C and I managed to get it done without too much of a fuss. And I'd like to point out that everyone at the ball was quite pleased with their tables!

This time around, Fussy Pants made about a hundred changes to the plan not taking into consideration that the room can only hold so many over sized tables around the dance floor. Apparently, having waiters move around the room was an unnecessary inconvenience. Finally, after much deliberation he came back to us with the table plan yesterday and I got down to making up the lists for the volunteers and deciding who was to host at which table etc. It took me most of the afternoon, but I finally got the volunteer instructions and packages together - all 17 of them!

And then, on the way home I get a call from C and she tells me that Mr. Annoying-as-Hell has decided that he wasn't totally happy with the seating plan and that he was going to have another look at it.

That's when I started to look around for the shotgun. IMPOSSIBLE man!

Weighing the Odds

With almost two weeks on the job safely tucked away under my belt, I can now make that list that I've been dying to post for a while. As was expected, the new job is a challenge. I'm not wholly convinced that this is how I'd like to spend my days, but there's the very practical aspect of rent and a fast depleting bank balance to consider. I'm confused right now. So I thought I'd post the pros and cons both and have you, the readers weight in with your opinions. See, that's how much I value your comments and feedback!


I always like to end on a positive note, so with that in mind let's start with the not-so-great aspects of the new job.

• It is a long ass commute! Really Long. About an hour and 20 minutes in the am. In the evenings jumps to an hour and 30, 40, 50.... The buses are infrequent and often operate independent to the prescribed bus schedule. Someone once mentioned that one of the best Scottish pieces of fiction is the bus timetable. I used to laugh at that. Not any more.


• Boss Man is not very organised very disorganised. Which is perhaps why he wanted to hire me and my list making and organisational skills in the first place. But in order for me to get going, I need him to give me some ground rules. Hell, I need him to be in the office for about 5 minutes running so that I can ask him a bunch of questions that have been piling up since last Monday.


• The work is pure admin. Filing, invoicing, billing, answering phones and the likes. Not a whole lot to do either, so very long periods of silence and drumming around to find something to keep me occupied.


• The pay reflects the work. Scant on a good day.


• I am on my own. Literally. It is I, me and myself in the office every hour of every day. The work men filter in about twice a day; to pick up jobs in the morning and return completed lines in the afternoon. Sometimes, they don't return them until the next day, so that's just one outsider visit for me. The community centre where the office is located has a steady stream of people (mostly kids and disabled adults) coming in to use the meeting rooms and facilities, but there's not a whole lot of chance for interaction with anyone other than the receptionist in the morning when I get in and the cafeteria lady at lunch time.
• The neighbourhood is not the best. In fact, it could be said that it is one of the worst in the G Town area. As Beans puts it, they have a lot of "clients" who live around here. This means not much chance of getting out during lunch and having a wander around and perhaps getting some errands done. The less walking around here, the better!

Still, it is not totally grey skies and rain clouds. There are some very nice points to this job and they are:

• It is a JOB! Something that will pay me and help inflate that sad sad bank statement of mine. Regular pay however scanty is infinitely better than no pay at all.


• Boss Man is a nice man. He's easy going, generous and wants desperately to help me out. In many ways, I am unqualified for the job as he initially wanted someone who could run the office and also manage the books; something that I know nothing about. Still, instead of turning me down flat, he's given me a chance and for that, I am truly grateful.


• There is the distinct possibility that my job role might change dramatically after April if Boss Man is awarded a particular contract that will keep the business very busy for at least the next year. In addition, there seem to be some other things a-brewing at this point which Boss Man would like me to be a part of at a later stage.


• The people here at the community centre are really quite nice and friendly. They've gone out of their way to make me feel welcome. There is a small cafeteria here that sells simple but discounted meals so at least I don't have to worry about wandering around the neighbourhood looking for lunch. The cafeteria lady has even told me that she'll heat up any packed lunch that I bring. How nice is that?

The next time Boss Man is in the office (which I hope will be this afternoon), I'm going to talk to him about potentially coming in only 3 days a week to do all the work. That will give me time for a) classes to learn how to use the accounting and payroll systems (which will give me more money) and b) another p/t job so that I can supplement my income. There's no way I'm going to be able to continue on just what's he's paying me. Not if I want to flit off to Paris and Rome and Madrid every now and then. And really, the lure of all those places just a cheap flight away is what is making me stick it out here.
Still, even if he says nay, what option do I have? I'll just have to stick it out here until I find something else. In that, I have little choice. I'm hoping that won't happen. I really do not want to let him down after a few months. Not after he took a risk with hiring me and basically set me back on the path to self redemption!
Reader, what do you think?

Tired Mind, Aching Heart

The month in India was over all too soon. Before I knew it, I was rushing around the house trying to locate all of my clothes and random belongings to shove into bags that were crammed packed. so crammed packed that I needed to go buy a new carry on bag. Red. Very Snazzy. Me Likey!

In spite of my flippant attitude to leaving, the heart was heavy indeed. The biopsy results came back on the 4th. The dreaded C word was confirmed. A chill crept around everyone's hearts, but we tried to stay positive. Find out more, the docs said. So, the day before I left, Papa was taken in for a PET scan. Again, there was the drama of calling for a cardiac ambulance, telling him about going in for more tests, fasting before the tests, calming him, reassuring him. Stressful for everyone.

Leaving was so very hard. But I had come to make my peace, say goodbye. And so I did. One last kiss, one last hug, one last look. All burned into my memory. They now need to last a lifetime.

The Shortest Holiday Ever Taken

I took the 5:45am train from Bombay to Goa on the 19th and arrived into Mapusa at around 2:15 that afternoon. The next day, I left Goa at 2:20pm making it a grand total of 25 hours "on vacation".

In between, there was a large amount of running around and general chaos thanks to my little cousin having fallen ill with the stomach flu. Add in the complications of a door that would not lock thus forcing us to find alternate accommodation, a very anxious and easily alarmed pair of rellies and a cousin who persisted in treating me like a child causing me to have a meltdown of my own ... well, let's just say that those 25 hours were highly stress inducing.

Not the kind of vacation I would recommend!

How to Put on a Brave Face amidst Inner Turmoil

Readers, I am a royal mess right now. Beans' 30th birthday party celebrations are tonight, and I'm all in a dither. To go or not to go; the very worrisome question.

Not going just doesn't seem like an option even. It would be too much like admitting a level of defeat. But if I DO go, then I simply HAVE to shine tonight. Anything less, and it would be another kind of defeat.

To that effect, every single item of clothing I own is strewn around my bedroom in my attempt to put together an outfit for tonight that I'm hoping with be-dazzle the guests and keep them from seeing just how frightening and anxious and nervous I actually am!

The plan is to make a fashionable late entrance, 9:30 -10ish, do the rounds, make polite conversation with all of his friends and co workers (all of whom know EXACTLY who I am), have at least one conversation with his mother and brothers and then make a graceful exit around 1am.

Must run dahlings! A long bubble bath awaits to calm my frazzled nerves.


Update:
Finally have an outfit packed out. Hair under control and looking FAB-u-lous. Ass-in-jeans also fab. (but, of course!)
Grabbing a bite to eat before I head out and flip on the TV. Buffy's on. And its the episode where Anya first makes an appearance. Coincidence? I think NOT!

I am so going to ROCK this party tonight!!!

Belle of the Ball

Two months of hectic preparations all came to a head last night at the Crowne Plaza hotel here in G Town. 360 guests gathered in the Argyll Suite for a champagne reception that was followed by a scrumptious 3 course meal. There were lavish auctions prizes, a car to be won as part of the main raffle event, an amazing line up the silent auction tables and a host of fun prezzies.


I had worked on this event since September, C even before that. It had meant long hours, sleepless nights and piles of anxious meetings over whether we would meet our targets for the night.

Even with a few hiccups, the evening was a raging success and early estimates show that we made about £27,000 that night. Adding that to the £20,000 already in the bank, it would seem that 3 well deserving charities in Glasgow are going to have a great start to the festive season!

No wonder then, that although we were almost shattered with exhaustion by the end of the night, C and I just had to pose for the cameras and share one gigantic hug as we rejoiced in our shared success.

Two Steps Back. I Think.

Saturday passed in a comfortable haze. The rain pelted down incessantly outside my window causing folks with weekend plans all sorts of minor headaches. Since I had none - plans that is - I was just fine curled up on the couch tapping away on my keyboard filling out application forms.

Gingersnap dropped in on her way out to a party with a whole bunch of DVDs on loan from Colossus. I knew Beans was going to the same party since he'd mentioned it during our phone call on Friday night. So also Ms. McSlutty from last week. My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked Gingersnap about her. The answer was not what I was expecting.

Turns out, she's one of their mutual friends. But she's a McSlutty alright, Gingersnap snorted. She'll flirt with anything that's wearing pants. Anytime. Anywhere. If that's the girl you mentioned Beans was "with" last weekend, then I'd say it was a 99% chance that she initiated what you saw. Probably did her best to keep it going too.

Not quite sure what to make of this revelation, I bid goodbye to Gingersnap who promised to text me from the party should she see a repeat of last weekend. Later, I got a message saying that Beans hadn't shown up and said that he wasn't feeling well. McSlutty on the other hand had found a new couch partner for that night.

Still thinking about G's parting words, I began to question what I had "seen" last weekend. Had I just imagined everything? Taken a simple gesture of an arm around someone and heads bent together in conversation to mean much more than it actually had been? Had I completely misread the situation and had made a mountain of a molehill? I tried to recall the scene. Play it back, take in the details. But it was all fuzzy and I started to give myself a headache with questioning everything.

I turned off my phone and went back to my marathon movie night.

Sunday was almost half over before I surfaced. Thankfully the rain had ceased and the forecast promised overcast skies, but clear. Against my better judgement, I texted Beans and asked if he was doing ok. Not sick. Just tired from the painting. Want to go see a movie? was the reply. We decided on a 3:15 show that afternoon. Almost at once, he called back. Ireland was playing Australia in Rugby and he'd forgotten about that. But if I wanted, I was welcome to come over and watch the game at his place. It actually worked out perfectly, since a) I'd spend way less watching the rugby match than I would at the movies and b) I needed to head into the city centre anyway as I was meeting Gingersnap later.

That afternoon was the best times I've spent with Beans in... well.... forever. He had all these diagrams ready for me to explain the rules and the plays, and painstakingly answered all of my questions - and we all know just how much guys hate talking when watching sports! It was fun. Real fun. Easy, no bull shit, relaxed fun. Something we hadn't had together in a long long time. And it helped that Ireland put on a good show to spectacularly tie the game just 2 seconds before the clock ran down.

He made me dinner, we laughed and chatted some more. As I gathered my things to leave, he asked if he could tag along. Gingersnap and I were meeting at George Square to watch the Christmas lights turned on. It was hardly a private meeting, so I said yes. We met G and Colossus, listened to the music, watched the fireworks, clapped when the lights went on and then ducked past the 100s of families with kiddies towards the Counting House and a pint.

Beans walked me to the bus stand after. The rain that had held off all evening finally started to pitter patter. Neither of us had an umbrella and we drew into the shelter of the store awning. Danielle Steele couldn't have written a better scenario. The bus was ages coming and we were getting increasingly wet. So instead, we walked back to his place and watched the new season of Top Gear. Curled up together on the couch, our wet clothes drying on the radiator.

That night, leaving was not an option. I wish I could say it were, but in honestly, I didn't even once think about it. Staying with him and making love to him was the only thing that felt right.

Had he planned the whole thing? Maybe.
Had he wooed me that evening? Definitely.
Had I just destroyed whatever progress I had made on Friday night? Perhaps.

I don't know what is the right thing and the wrong thing here. I'm flying blind. The only thing I do know, is that Sunday was a great day for me. A relaxing day. A FUN day. I hadn't tried too hard and he hadn't been a jerk. Far from it.

I do know that I could do with more days like that. Rain and all.

Awkward just got Awkwarder

If you've been paying any attention to my sidebars, you'll have noticed that I added a fun little website some time ago that showcases the worst of the What Were They Thinking? pictures for the general amusement of the interwebular world.

Only, I just looked at the recent entries and turns out I KNOW the subjects of today's hilarity.

Do I still giggle? Do I tell them? What if they find out later and then realise that I didn't say anything?

Oh dear. Awkward!

On the Hunt

Armed to the teeth with information on the flats, and a handy dandy map book of the city, I set off to view the first lot of apartments on Tuesday evening. I'd just heard back from Ginger (VBF's friend) that she'd spoken with the roomies and everything was a go for Thursday. Suffice to say I was feeling good about things.

JellyCake had offered to come flat viewing with me and together we walked down to the first stop. On our way there, I get a call from Beans; Just done with work now... meet you at the flat. Again, confusing. He has the opportunity to have an entire evening of alone time - something he said he was craving - then he chooses to come spend it with me? Bizarre behaviour indeed. But, I digress... back to the story.

We found the door of the first flat sandwiched between 2 pubs on Hope Street. NOT the best start. Already, I envisioned the doorstep being used as a urinal every Friday and Saturday nights! Called the girl and she came down to get us. We followed her up a narrow winding staircase. Half way up, she stopped to unlock a door. Then, more narrow winding stairs. Another door. This time it looked like the front door thankfully. JellyCake was about to have a coronary. She opened the door - more steps! And after all that, the apartment was nothing to write home about. But I will anyway!! Dirty, dusty, messy, icky. That about sums it up. The girl proceeds to tell us that the landlords won't do a formal tenancy agreement and just want to be paid in cash every month. Shady Indians! And the clincher; there is no buzzer to the apartment, so every single time you have a guest, or a delivery or even the post, you have to walk down 4 flights of stairs and past 3 doors to get it yourself! As we made our way down, JellyCake joked about the possibility of putting in a fireman's pole to speed up the process.

The next place was by Glasgow Green. And what a difference! Ground floor apartment with beautiful 14ft high ceilings. Large airy rooms. Beautiful modern kitchen. All the rooms tastefully decorated and very clean and tidy. The landlord who was showing us around commented that it used to be a firehouse and both JellyCake and I giggled and asked if there was a pole!

JellyCake had to leave, so Beans and I carried on to the last place of the day. A lovely roomy apartment at the other end of Glasgow Green. Two girls who I gleamed to be around my age showed us around. Chatty owned the apartment and was relocating to Ireland. Smiley was staying behind and judging by the terrific smells from the kitchen area - was a great cook! (Score!) AND there was 2 full washrooms which meant no sharing! (Double Score!)

The location however was a bit out of the way with narry a shop or bus stop in sight. The only way to get to the apartment was walking past the Green, which Beans told me was not the best place after dark. Still, those girls had lived there for 2 years now and they seemed happy enough. I wished the place was better located. It just had such a happy vibrant feel and I saw myself being able fit in there quite happily.

Day 2 of the apartment hunt took us to Queen Margaret Road near the Botanic Gardens. Beautiful area, HORRIBLE flat. T'was a bedsit to begin with (a bachelor for those on the other side of the Atlantic) and not the nicest. As Beans put it on the way out, it would take a supreme human being not to loose the will to live after being in that place for a month.

Onwards then to Highburn Road near Hillhead subway and to what can only be described as the house that was featured in the recent issue of modern city living. Immaculately decorated and beautifully maintained. A nice enough guy for a landlord, but I didn't get a nice homely vibe off the place. In fact, I was almost too terrified to step onto the rug with my wet boots or sit on the couch and muss up the upholstery! The guy mentioned how he likes things clean and tidy, but is not (with emphasis) a neat freak. Readers, you could have performed open heart surgery off the dining table. As we walked away, I thought about some of my friends and how I would NEVER EVER be able to invite them over should I take that room. Apparently there is such a thing as too beautiful!

Today was a roaring success! Two flats, both in the west end, both good prices and locations and nice roommates. The first an Irishman who turns out was recently best man at the wedding of one of Beans' high school classmates. (Does everyone know everyone in Ireland?) The other a lovely lady in her late 30s who at first was all quite and shy, but then turned out to be in HR and seemed quite pleased that it was my field as well. The second place was a bit of a walk to the subway and the shops, but SUCH a beautiful apartment with a wee little garden as well. As for the groceries, online shopping is just the ticket. Beans also confirmed that the location was simply tops. The sort of place that would never give us any business he declared cheekily.

And so ended another day on the hunt. More safari stories to follow.

The Kindness of Strangers

Four days after Beans decided to drop his little bombshell on me, I'd had enough of the blow hot, blow cold attitude. He'd make an advance towards sharing time with me, then behave as if I was something off the short bus. I love the man (yes, am using the present tense), but there's only so many veiled insults a gal can take.

I was already in the process of looking for a place of my own, but even the quickest turn around would be a week, maybe two. I needed a stop-gap solution or else I was going to totally loose my mind - and whatever little self worth I had left.

I started looking around for short term stays at hostels and at the university residence halls. There just didn't seem to be anything available for the (little) money I had and what I could afford was all sold out. And then, salvation! VBF called to tell me that she called around to some of her pals and one of them had a spare room that I could use for around 2 weeks. Just the ticket! A quick series of calls and texts and voila, I had a confirmation on a place to stay.

I'd like to point out that that I'd met this girl all of 3 times before and she'd just literally opened up her house to me. Talk about the right time to believe in a world of kindness again.

And so, I'm moving in with her on Thursday and boy am I looking forward to it! Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm busting back! Its time for a turnaround.