A Groovy Kind of Love

We are all familiar with the sequence. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy. There is an attraction, they date. And perhaps they live happily ever after or else they split up and the cycle begins all over again. After an appropriate interval where broken hearts/wounded feelings mended with the help of copious amounts of ice cream eating of course!

That is exactly how things started out with Wookie.

We met last December at one of the comedy nights where I managed to make a complete tit of myself. Shockingly, that didn’t put him right off and over the next few weeks there was more talking (mostly on my part) and subtle flirting continued. He finally made his move one night as we walked home post comedy which resulted in a most lovely snogging session. The lad didn’t have much chat, but it turns out he had a talented tongue regardless. We made plans to meet on New Year’s Eve after he was done work, but thanks to a longer than usual shift (him), a dead phone battery (me) and general New Year’s Eve madness, that didn’t pan out. Feeling guilty about the whole fiasco, he contacted me the next morning and we made plans to meet up after I was back from Berlin. He suggested going to the Stand, which was actually quite nice; we both liked comedy and I’d never been there before. It was a perfect evening. Lots of laughs thanks to the stellar line up, an equal amount of private jokes between us two; meeting up with fellow comedy lovers and heading out to a pub post show and of course, more of that talented tongue. So when he called to set up another date for that Sunday, of course, I was more than happy.

And that’s where it all went so very wrong.

For starters, he showed up more than 20 minutes late. There was no explanatory text/phone message to give me a heads up and no apology when he finally did get there. Fortunately, I had a book with me and so I didn’t really notice the passage of time. I did however notice a couple of sympathetic glances from the serving staff who, no doubt have seen their share of poor stood up folk. Seated at the table, he was far more interested in focusing on his phone rather on me. I got staccato responses to my questions and no eye contact. At one point I even stopped talking mid sentence and started counting silently to see how long it would take him to notice the silence: I got to 11. To add insult to injury, he mentioned that he intended to head over to his parents place that evening and had a train to catch in an hour. I took that as a not to subtle request to eat faster so that he could get out of there. Upset and rather frustrated by the total opposite of our previous date and the entire sham of an afternoon, I choked down my meal as quickly as possible. We parted at the street corner and I walked back to my flat in a rage.

Not even a half hour later, he pops up on Facebook chat; GoodNews! My parents are here, so I’m getting a lift down to their place. Wonderful, I responded. And then, because I had nothing to lose and I was still hopping mad I added, Let’s just hope you’re better company for them than you were for me today. Nothing for a while, then I got a Whatever do you mean? which, Reader, was JUST the opening I had been looking for. I spewed out all of my rage and frustrations on to that chat message, holding nothing back. For the next hour or so, we chatted back and forth furiously, both attacking and defending. He claimed he was nervous. I said I was too. He said I was forceful, I said he was confusing. He said I didn’t know anything about football, I said that wasn’t even a reasonable statement. And so it went on until we were both out of steam. Look, let’s just forget about the whole thing and move on with our lives, was my final comment. He agreed, we both signed off and I imagined that I would never hear from him again and perhaps see him only occasionally at comedy events where there were enough other people around for us not to have to converse.

How wrong I was!

We ended up chatting online the next day. And the day after, and the day after that as well. In fact, since that fateful “date” not a single day went by without us chatting online or trading a barrage of text messages. We met at comedy. We met outside of comedy. By then, I had started to plan the fundraiser night and he ended up helping me out in little ways; introducing me to his sister who agreed to come photograph the event, running errands to pick up raffle prizes from around the city and sometimes just listening to me rant about various things that were driving me insane. We talked about everything. With other people he was shy to the point of playing mute. Yet, with each other we were never at a loss for words. I told him about the entire fiasco with Beans and he told me about the girl he’d been crushing on for the past six months. We plotted over ways to get her to realise his existence. He declared that I’d gone long enough without football in my life, and I became Padwan to his Jedi Master. And that is how it has been for these past five months.

Sometimes, the memory of those kisses return. But there is no lingering on a “what if.” I know that this is the better way. Had we not had that disaster date, there may have been a few more meetings, a few more kisses, perhaps even sex. But that is where it would have ended. I am sure of it. I do not want a long term relationship right now and he is not ready for one either. A long term friendship however, we can both handle just fine. Our friends joke about us being a couple and yes, it does seem so; all the hallmarks of a relationship just minus the physical intimacy. And yes, there is love: a lot of it in fact. Somehow, Wookie has managed to make me open up again and trust in love again. Perhaps the next time, I will be ready to go that one step further. But for now, I am happy with this kind of love. And when alls said and done, he is so handy when it comes to the changing of the light bulbs!

Epic Fail

About a month ago, Beer Baron emailed me about making a potential trip out to Scotland. After a few emails back and forth to confirm availability, within a few days his tickets were booked and *boom* just like that - I was finally having my first T Dot visitor! Full of plans for what we would do when he got here, I made sure to book a few days off work so that I could show him around, hang out together and generally do a lot of catching up over the past two years.

The night before he arrived, I was at the comedy club as usual. When I made to head home after the show, my pals pulled me back pooh poohing my efforts to leave citing that since I had the day off on the morrow, I was duty bound to stay out with them that night. I'll be honest, it didn't take much persuasion. We headed to our usual watering hole on main street which was followed by a wee stint at the casino. Because apparently, 3am was too early to head home to bed.

Post casino (and a few more rounds), Roo and I were last men standing and we stumbled in a homeward direction. Roo professed hunger and because I was CLEARLY not thinking straight, I told him he could come over and I'd make him a sammich. (Note: I make darn good sammiches. Even at odd hours of the morning) Roo took me up on that, came over and ate and drank his way through two sammiches, crisps, some of Flatmate's beer and ginger cookies. About half way though his feast, I went off to bed telling him to shut the door behind him when he left. I figured, I could get at least two hours of shut eye before I had to head off to the airport to meet Beer Baron who's flight was scheduled to land at 8:30am.

Oh. The mistake.

The alarm rang, I turned it off and slept soundly right until 9:30 until Flatmate happened to drop something in the kitchen and startle me awake. Upon which I leaped out of bed and dialed BB's cell phone frantically. Turns out, he had made his way over to the city centre and was trying to figure out the underground. I told him I'd pick him up at my station.

Dragging on some jeans and runners, I brushed my teeth, ran my fingers through my hair and made my way to the station to sit and wait for my friend. Gone were the grand plans of meeting him at the arrival hall with a great big hug and escorting him back to the flat. Instead, I sat in the corner of the station looking like a bag lady and with the stench of yesterday's alcohol seeping out of my every pore.

When Beer Baron did arrive, there was still a great BIG hug waiting. At least I couldn't screw that up! And then, I took him home and made him a sammich.

Scheming Governments

It has been widely acknowledged that the Scotland has one of the highest percentage of obese people in all of Europe thanks to deep fried anything being on the list of your 5-a-day. The Scottish Government has been doing its best to combat this problem with a multitude of campaigns and initiatives to get the population to think and live healthy. Apparently, they have also recently teamed up with Royal Mail on a rather unique "get fit" scheme.

At least, that is the only explanation I have as to why the postman would leave a package notice at a time when both flatmate and I were home. He didn't tap at the door, just pushed the note through the mail slot in the door and took off. By the time I got to it, and opened the door he was gone. That meant I had to walk 20 minutes up the road and over the hill to the post depot, stand in line for 10 minutes, collect the package and walk back another 20 minutes home.

On the other hand, it DID get me out of my jammies and out and about on a particularly lovely sun-shiney morning.

Who knows, perhaps the Scottish government might have hit the nail on the head after all and this cockamamy new idea might just work!

Foresight

Last summer, when I told people about how we disciplined kids at camp through manual labour, I was sometimes met with shock and outrage. Yeah, sure. YOU spend 8 weeks with a bunch of rowdy teens and see if you'd react any different!

Apparently, us Activity Leaders weren't the only ones who'd thought to go with that kind of plan. The Scottish government have similar ideas. 

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!

Hello Mouth, Meet Foot!

The scene: Comedy night at the local. Booth in the corner with some of my pals. Boy sitting in corner is a newbie; colleague of a friend.

The situation:
I am sitting diagonally across from boy-in-the-corner. At one point, I shift position and in doing so, slam my knee against something under the table. Puzzled, I look down knowing that it can't be the table supports. Turns out, its boy-in-corner's leg. He's so tall that his legs stretch right across the large pub table and that's his knee I've just slammed into.

Still peering under the table I exclaim, Good heavens... that was you. My, you certainly are one long fella.

There is dead silence as everyone at the table processes that sentence, followed by a gale of laughter as me (and boy) turn very red.

*sigh*

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

The first flakes were falling just as I got home from work on Friday night. We'd been expecting it all day; there was that sharp chill in the air that just screamed "Snow's Coming!" People around me pulled their coats tighter and stepped up the pace, eager to get home as soon as possible. I spread my hands and turned my face to the heavens. There was something so magical about the first snowfall of the season that it always felt like an almost spiritual experience.

As I watched from my window, the wind rattled against the pane whipping up the light flakes into a flurry frenzy. By the time I woke up the next morning, it was a Bing Crosby dream world outside. But Ma Nature wasn't done.

The snow continued to fall all day on Saturday, then through most of the night and as I sip my Sunday morning cuppa it's still falling. Knowing just how ill prepared Scotland is for this kind of weather, I am already dreading the commute in to work tomorrow morning. But for now, I am warm and cosy on the couch watching hangover TV and very glad that I have nowhere to be, but at home.

Roots

Last year I found out by chance that a lot of my friends here in G Town had never taken part in that oh-so-delightful Autumn activity otherwise known as pumpkin carving. I decided that it was my bounded duty to spread the good cheer of Halloween and with that in mind I invited a few friends around for a night of carving. It was a fun night; lots of laughs, good food and getting to know new friends. And a whole lot of folks who lost their proverbial pumpkin carving cherry!

A few weeks ago, some of the friends who'd come to last year's party cajoled me into organising another such evening. Last night, as I looked around at the gang gathered around my living room I felt a sense of accomplishment. I had established a tradition of sorts.

Today there was more evidence of further integration into local culture. Come 8 o'clock and I'd settled in to watch X Factor - the results show. Drama and his boy got me hooked the weekend I was in London and I'm now cheering along with the rest of this island. Again, it seems trivial but its just another thing that makes me feel more at home. Makes me feel like I belong here. Here, in this adoptive home of mine.

Another Milestone

Today marks one year since I moved into my twee apartment here in G Town. Through the last year, its been the one constant of goodness. Literally, my place of refuge. And of course Rain Man, my very mental, very sweet and totally crazy flat mate who (amongst other things) introduced me some of my best pals, given me a hug and kind words when things have been down, helped me settle into the city and just generally been an overall great candidate for the Flatmate of the Century award!

Observations from behind a Customer Service Desk

There were six glorious weeks over April and May when I was too busy to blog because of work. And although I missed the interaction with my imaginary friends, I will have to admit that truly enjoyed the feeling of being busy and productive for a change.

The upside of all those blogless days was being able to gather oodles of anecdotes to share with you. As a customer service rep in a busy shopping centre I had the privilege of interacting with some very interesting specimens of humanity. Unlike the Oscars where the lists of mentions are long and boring, I've chosen instead to focus on the most brilliant, funny, amusing and touching sightings that I now share with you.

• A rather large middle aged woman wearing a t shirt that read " Man Eater". Half of me applauded her nerve while the other half was dying to ask her if that meant she had literally devoured one of the male species. She sure looked like she'd had a rather large lunch.
• Tween gay boys shopping with their tween girlie pals. About the only wise thing I've seen from the girls of this place. Coz really, their boyfriends would NOT put up with long hours of mindless window shopping and of them trying out endless outfits all in a bid for the "Who's Cutest" crown.
  
• On the other end of that spectrum, we have the long suffering husbands holding multiple carrier bags either walking a couple of steps behind their bustling wives or standing around at designated spots waiting for the women to materialise out of various shops.
  
• Old dears with their bus pass hanging around their neck reminding me of kindergarten kids who have their hankies pinned to their shirts. Ah, bless!
  
• Ugly parents with surprisingly cutie babies that make me think about the miracle of genetics.... and hospital swaps.
  
• The ability of mums or child minders to simply block out and effectively ignore the otherwise penetrating siren like wails emitting from their charges.
• Mothers and daughters out shopping together. Sometimes, accompanied by Gramma, Aunties and a cousin or two. Family resemblances abound. Sometimes a blessing, other times more like a curse and a definitive reason for cosmetic surgery.
  
• Couples that dress alike. Never a good thing no matter what your age. Particularly disturbing when they get matching his and her fake tans.
  

There were the folk that stopped by the desk. 95% of the time they wanted directions to the toilets and my colleagues and I used to come up with a number of ways to lead them to the destination. The customer service desk itself was situated on the lower level in front of a large Boots store. And yet, we would have at least one or two people EACH SHIFT who'd stop by our desk to ask directions to..... the Boots store. I would also like to point out that my chair and desk backed the store so in fact they'd actually be facing the store while asking me the question!

Then there was that one time when a lady came up to me asking about the hairdressers on the second floor. I told her that we didn't have one on the second floor, but there was one on the lower level.
Lady: No, No. Its on the second floor of the XYZ shopping centre. I know it is!
Me: Ma'am you do realise that this is the ABC shopping centre? XYZ is across the street.
Lady: Well of course I know that. But this is information isn't it?
Me: *sigh*

Or the time when E and I were approached by one of G Town's finest teenage population.
Boy: Cannae tell me whey *grifbidhvghs* is?
Me/E: Erm... pardon?
Boy: *ahcuyrkjib* - I'm lookin' fore eet.
Me/E: *walking round to be closer to him* Sorry, we still didn't get that.
Boy: *looking at us like we're special*
Me: I know, why don't you write it down for us!
Boy: *walks off in disgust*
E: Pixy, you're asking a NED to spell something other than his name?

Yes, very silly of me indeed. No wonder the lad thought I was special.

While we're at it, we mustn't forget the Grabbers, so called because they'll pick up anything and everything that's not nailed down. Promotion leaflets, discount flyers, free magazines, scraps of paper all of it goes rapidly into their over sized bags already full with junk that they've picked up at various other places.

Also high on the list were the Regulars. The folk who day in and day out were at the shopping centre. Mostly window shopping, browsing, looking around. Characters, each one of them. Some would wave a hello as they went passed, others would stop to chat for a while. One in particular would stay and chat for a while. Sometimes a really long while. But she is a lovely person, just looking to fill some of her day with affable company. I can understand and appreciate that.

There were also a host of lovely fellow centre employees I met during the assignment. Security staff, cleaners, shop assistants and more. Of course, I made friends with the good people at the coffee shop on my very first day! And most of all the lovely Tigger; first colleague and now friend. Sometimes a job can give you so much more than just a pay cheque.

A Midsummer's Night's Fauxpas

For some weeks now, a friend has been telling me about the free comedy night at the Halt Bar in the west end of G Town. G has recently started his journey as a stand up comedian and of course its always best when you fill the venue with friends sympathetic to your cause. I'd been meaning to check the place out for sometime, but things kept getting in the way. Finally, last week I made it.

The evening had a bit of a shaky start as G was running late which meant that I sat at the bar nursing a beer until the gig began. I'm very used to being solo on many occasions and at many venues; a bar is just not one of them. Thankfully it wasn't a terribly long wait and as soon as the host got on stage I figured people would focus on him and not at the looser at the bar by herself!

Divided into 3 sets, the evening featured six amateurs and one professional act. The amateurs ranged from an absolute novice who snapped the proverbial cherry that night to others who had been on a circuit for some time but were still dabbling. Most of them had good material and garnered laughs from the audience. One of them was totally weird, but hey... there's one in every crowd isn't there?

Post event, G introduced me to some of his pals including the evenings host. Turning to greet him, I wasn't prepared for the explosive Is this her? Is she the one? that was yelled in my face. Choking back the laughter at my bewildered expression, G explained things to me. Back when E (his gf) and I were working together at the shopping centre, we used to kill the long hours by playing our favourite game of rate-the-customers. Apparently, the host walked by one day and I declared that I wasn't quite sure whether or not I considered him cute and placed him in an "undecided" category. A week later, E met him at one of G's comedy events and recognised him as my ambivalent ratee and told G all about it. G being a boy blabbed the whole thing to the man himself.

As G narrated the story, I felt myself turning a whiter shade of pale quickly followed by the warm heat of embarrassment creeping into my cheeks. Thankfully the host was laughing about it and he soon walked away. Still, he hadn't quite forgotten about my assessment - or the lack of it - and as we left the bar later he turned to me and said, Nice to meet you Pixy. Hopefully we'll meet again soon and who knows, you might have made up your mind by then?

Huum. Guess that means I'll have to go back for another look some time soon.

Plan B

Any post written between the 15th and 20th of this month was supposed to have been written from the seaside town of Schoorl in the Netherlands. However thanks to evil dust particles from erupting Icelandic volcanoes with unpronounceable names, I'm stuck in G Town for the next little while.

Ironically, in spite of being surrounded by the ash of all evil, G Town has been having the most amazing weather of late. Loath to waste all this excessive sunshine I spent most of yesterday afternoon wandering around the west end and finally settled down on the steps of the Kelvingrove museum for a long read in a warm sunshine.

Later in the evening Gingersnap, Colossus and myself took a drive out to Carmunnock just south of the city. From our vantage point, we had a great view of the sunset over the city. We had hoped that the volcanic ash would provide some interesting vistas, but perhaps we were a day or two too late for that. Still its hard not to find beauty in a sunset and ash or not, this one was just as lovely.

The Usual Suspect

Over the past few weeks, I have been training for a potential job in Edinburgh. There's a lot of research involved and accordingly, I took myself to the library to get the required reading. Part of the research is on Scotland's Stone of Destiny and its role in the country's military and political past. Specifically, how it was "borrowed" back in the 50s by four students from Glasgow University.

I presented my list of books to the library assistant. She looked it over. Frowning slightly, she peered up at me through her very librarian-like spectacles. Interesting list you have here young lady. Are you planning another heist?

I didn't know it at that time, but it turns out that when planning the heist, the students had checked out an almost identical list of books from the very same library! I wonder there are most wanted lists in the Glasgow library system. If so, my card number is probably at the very top of the list. I'd better behave myself over the next few weeks, and make damn sure I return the books on time, or I might have half the Strathclyde Police force out on my doorstep!

Game, Set, Match.

While I was still fence sitting about going to the Paddy's Day party, there was a call from the agency re some potential work on Saturday.

Accordingly, on went the little back skirt and white top and black jacket. On went the makeup - eye coloury bits and eyelasher stuff and a dab of colour on the lips that was promptly licked off. On went the accursed pantyhose and finally the heels that would guarantee sore and achy feet before the hour was up. But hey, it was 5 hours of paid work and when they said jump, I asked, how high?

For most of the first half of the reception, the guests were more interested in stealing glances at the flat screen TVs that were showing the Scotland v. Ireland rugby game and really, so was I. As the match went on, I got more and more excited. It wasn't so much that Scotland playing some really smart ball and winning, but more that Ireland was getting the stuffing kicked out of them and all hopes of them winning the Grand Slam were being well and truly dashed. When the final score read 20-23 in favour of the Scots, I knew there was no way I was NOT going to the party and miss seeing Beans wallow in the wake of defeat.

So I went. There was a lot of rugby talk, mostly instigated by myself and yes, I had a GREAT time throughout the evening!

Happy to Me!!!

Things had been so very hectic in the run up to the fundraising event that I had been thinking of nothing else other than volunteer lists, prizes for the silent auction and all manner of other prep points that I quite neglected the fact that a momentous occasion was almost upon us.... my birthday!

When I finally set aside the notes and invoices from the ball, and began to think about the birthday, I knew one thing was for sure; no way was I going to spend the day cooped up at the office... or even at home. That would be just too sad, even for someone who has sunk as low as I have!

A quick scan on the interwebulator told me that Stirling Castle was having a bunch of special exhibitions and my handy-dandy yearly subscription to the Scottish Historic Society was not only going to get me into the castle for free, but also into all of the exhibitions at no extra cost! With that sweet a deal on the table, how could I not go???

And off I went. And what a glorious day for a trip to a medieval castle. Not because it was a clear and sunny wintry morning, but rather a cold and clammy day with the mists swirling low down on the hills and all around the castle; perfect for a visit into history.
Things warmed up a great deal later that evening when I met Beans, VBF and her husband for dinner at a Brazilian restaurant in the city centre. Glorious food, great laughs and the company of good friends; all ingredients for a very special birthday celebration.
The evening was particularly enjoyable since earlier on I'd received a phone call from the elusive Boss Man. Apologising profusely for not getting back to me earlier, he explained that although he had indeed dissolved the company and the partnership at Easterhouse, he was starting up a new company under a different banner and that far from being unemployed, my services would be very much needed to get things going and done correctly from the get go. Suffice to say, there was a huge sigh of relief at my end of the line! He was getting things sorted out for a new office location this week and would get back to me with information on starting next Monday. Same arrangement as before, same rates... just different location.

I went off to dinner feeling much MUCH better and ready to celebrate for more reasons than one! The pals did not disappoint and it was a simply lovely evening out. And the celebrations will continue this weekend with drinks at a local hot spot and then next week..... PARIS!

29 has begun well. I pray that it will continue as such. Dammit, I need a good year!

The Jury is Back and We Have a Verdict

With a mere 4 days to the next fundraising event, it is all systems GO for me right now. There are calls to be made, volunteers to be rounded up, prizes/donation to be collected and about a hundred different details and loose ends to be tied up before the big night this Friday.

And of course, let's not forget the all important details - the outfit!

At the last ball, I was all set to wear boring trousers and a borrowed top when a surprise package arrived from my aunt in Canada with an evening dress inside. She'd heard about my wardrobe crisis from my mum and dispatched a dress that I had borrowed from her before. Add sheer pantyhose, a nifty bolero jacket to dress it up and strappy heels and voila, we had a elegant ensemble!

This time around, I was slightly better prepared having bought a beaded chiffon sari when I was in Bombay that I knew would be PURR-FECT for the evening. Having decided to forgo my usual strappy sandals and instead wear my brand new black peep toes, some planning was required. Accordingly, I put on a pair of thick socks and prancing around the house commenced.

Rain Main (the flatmate) chanced upon me washing up dishes in my PJs and of course the socks-and-peep-toes combination. I'm practicing was my response to his startled look. He shook his head in a "whatever" fashion and moved on.

Then yesterday, he overheard me talking to Gingersnap on the phone. I was in the middle of chopping veggies for dinner, so had her on speakerphone. The poor thing was trying (unsuccessfully) to make me comprehend the complexities of eyeshadow. You put the darker colour on first and just off to the right of the lid, and then follow through with a lighter shade that's complementary, but not totally a match and then layer that with the thingybob with the dooddad of the other colour........

It's too bloody complex, I grumbled to her, and reminded her that I didn't even OWN eyeshadow. An eye pencil and lip gloss was the extent of my makeup range! I'll just have to get you done myself was her last exasperated statement as she rang off.

Rain Main looked at me quizzically.

You don't know anything about makeup.

You need to practice wearing heels.

You don't even OWN your own dresses.

I nodded in response to each statement.

He shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, turning back for one last comment.

You really are a crap girl!

I nodded again to his retreating back.

Rabbie Woulda've Bin Proude O Mae

Today is Rabbie Burns Day. For those who don't speak Scottish, that is meant to be Robbie or Robert Burns, widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland; the very lad who penned such memorable ditties such as Auld Lang Syne which we've all at some point or the other sung drunkenly on New Year's Eve or A Red Red Rose which we've all listened to at some or the other wedding and wondered which drunken sod wrote those sappy lines. Now you know.

Anyway, January 25th is his birthday and an excellent day to celebrate all things Scottish, including of course a very Scottish dinner of haggis (sheep belly stuffed with unmentionables), tatties (mashed potatoes) and neeps (steamed and mashed turnips). Yes, they do go in for the gourmet meals here, don't they?
Sadly, my first Burns day in Scotland was spectacularly uneventful. Unless you count frozen pizza and watching Glee on TV as a celebration of sorts. However, in honour of Mr. Burns and Scotland in general, here's a pic from my very first tasting of their national dish when VBF and her friends had arranged a dinner and night out for me the very first time I visited in 2006. It wasn't the best version of the meal; for one, the restaurant "was out" of mashed potatoes and so they gave me a side of fries instead. And secondly, the meat was rather over cooked with the result a tad dry. VBF and friend spent most of the evening apologising on behalf of their chef! Note my expression as I'm trying to figure out if I like the concoction or not!
My second experience with haggis didn't happen until last weekend when I found out that Tescos and other stores actually sell ready made haggis-in-a-can that is supposed to be really very yummy. In an attempt to suspend my disbelief, I tried some and the results were quite unexpected as it turned out to be very delicious indeed! And so easy to prepare! Open tin, mash up contents into bowl, pop bowl in microwave for 5 minutes, serve hot. The sides actually took longer to cook!
So, that is my contribution to Rabbie's Day. I will endeavour to do better next year!

At Last, At Last... Employed at Last!

The title says it all, but apparently my loyal readers are clamouring for details. So here goes.

Back in December, I met Mr. B at the charity Christmas party. He came up to congratulate me on my award and mentioned that he had been at the ball and was impressed with execution of the event. Over champagne, we chatted about my past work experiences as he was curious as to how I had gotten involved with fundraising and event planning. I told him all about my professional past. He mentioned that he owned a small building and maintenance company and that he was looking for someone to work in the office managing the administrative end of the business. Would you be interested in something like that? he asked. If so, give me a call and we'll set something up. And voila, just like that, I had a job! After months of sending out CVs and applications and at times literally pounding the pavement and dropping of job apps in stores and such, all it took was a Christmas party and some champagne and some mingling with fellow guests to get me into the coveted "Employed Only" club!

I was a bit afraid that he might be put off by the fact that I was going to be away for a month, but apparently that worked well for him since his business was shut over the holidays. When I got back last week, I gave him a call and we met last Friday to hash out details. He needs an office manager/administrator type person to take the reigns and maintain and manage the in flows and outflows of the business. He also talked about potentially doing some work to grow and expand the business beyond its current roster of recurring clients. So far so good. The catch was that the office was located outside of G Town, in a suburb east of the city. There was a bus I could take from the city centre, but that would mean an hour's commute - at the very least. The job would also require me to work independently for the most part. That is something that I'm used to; what is new is the fact that I would be totally on my own, no one else in the office. For someone who is driven by social interactions that is going to be a toughie.

Still, as the adage goes, beggars cannot be choosers. I started on Monday and we're going to take it a day at a time. Hopefully, this will be the turning point that has elude me for so long.

Night of Stars and Dreams and Celebrations!

Last night, I went along to the annual Christmas party hosted by Cancer Support Scotland. Staff, executive committee members, staff, volunteers and patrons all gathered to look back on the year that was and celebrate a number of amazing successes.

I knew there was going to be an award ceremony; the program had mentioned an award for Volunteer of the Year and Fundraiser of the Year. What I did NOT expect was to be the recipient of a special award myself! I was sitting at my table, clapping away with the rest when Bill, the Chief Exec started to talk about the next award recipient. And before I knew it, it was MY name being called and everyone turning around to take a look. Too bad I was in the middle of sipping from my wine glass and had to swallow in a hurry and gingerly put down the glass!

The past 2 months had been crazy busy as I was putting in umpteen hours working on the event and trying to juggle filling out all sorts of job apps. But every single minute of it was totally worth the effort when we found out that we'd totally blown past last year's fundraising target. The sense of accomplishment on that alone had been enough to make me feel spectacularly great about my participation.

Being presented with this award was totally unexpected and quite over-whelming really. I'll have to admit that I do like the look of the framed certificate now proudly displayed on my living room shelf.

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.