I could buy anything, just anything for any of you girls and you'd be chuffed to bits. A tea cup with a funny moustache on it, or a necklace from Topshop, or a new bit of make up. Anything.
Pointless stuff for guys is utterly pointless. Somebody as tried and totally FAILED to come up with tat for blokes. A speaker that looks like a rubiks cube? WTF - LAME! Even a snow globe with a photo together in it seems a bit too soppy. A book of jokes? Great, that's original. Even bodycare sets are a bit rubbish. 'Here have a bodywash that you might not like the smell of, and a razor with a blunt blade because of health and safety reasons'. Brilliant.
What about another tshirt? What witty slogan will he like, should I just get one with a photo of boobs printed on it? How about a racey calendar, is it too cliche?
Someone, please. I genuinely need help.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
I always find packing a bit tedious, I stress and pack too much and then empty my case and do it all again. But then you get out the door and you're on your way. I love travelling to the airport, I just get so excited, my body knows where we're going.
It's been a long time since I had a big good bye scene at Departures, so for the last few years check in, baggage drop and security have been over and done with quickly. My case was 2 kilos overweight but thankfully my check in attendant was decent enough to let me cram 2 kilos into my hand luggage. I should have just paid the £10 charge, as the zip on my big hand bag then broke. It's okay, I think I can fix it.
The new North Terminal in Gatwick is excellent. At one point I was certain I was at a space station. Lots of new areas that are all chrome and glass and white and blue lights. A striking contrast to the old decor throughout the rest of the building (cream walls, green and blue carpets, yellow signs).
Thank god for Duty Free. I've said before that I never buy anything, but I seriously waste some concessions time by trying make up, drowning myself in different perfumes. I love it. It is in this cloud of scents that I march towards my gate, after 45 minutes of nervously glancing at the screens.
After a painfully long wait at the gate we all rush on to the plane and I manage to get a window seat towards to back. I immediately sink into my book (Carla from work lent me the Sookie Stackhouse novels, True Blood, and I've had them ages and haven't had brain space to get stuck in) hoping to forget the boring taxi phase of my flight.
Then it's happening. The most exciting part of flying - take off. I love it, as soon as I feel that lurch of the plane heaving itself off the ground I starting grinning like a lunatic. I can't help myself, it's just a happy place for me. Then we start the climb to 30 thousand feet and I can watch the earth beneath us float away. Cars on the motorway, rivers, houses. Then you hit the clouds and suddenly break through to a different world. Above the clouds where the sun is just starting to disappear. It's uber dreamy.
Flight highlight? Asking for a black coffee with sugar and I got served Starbucks?! :) It doesn't take much to keep me happy.
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Let the Christmas tunes roll in, let's go shopping for presents, get wrapped up in scarfs and gloves, sip hot chocolate in 'red cups', decorate the apartment, calls from grandparents, writing out Christmas cards.
I must admit that until recently, I think I... (I warn you, this is a bit harsh...) I hated Christmas.
I hated Christmas music, shopping for stupid presents, I missed warm sunshine, I wanted hot beverages in a normal cup, I liked our tidy apartment, I could talk to my grandparents any time, I dreaded the wrist cramp from writing out pointless cards.
I wasn't always brought up to hate Christmas, my parents and family went to a lot of trouble to make sure our Christmases were pretty damn good. I think when I 'grew up' and I knew it wasn't a celebration of really anything, that I began to lose interest. I wasn't brought up to disbelieve in God, but rather to believe in my own version of God. So I never went to church, I wasn't baptised, or christened (unlike both of my parents). So Christmas wasn't a religious event.
The biggest family Christmas I can remember was when we all lived in Gill Gill Cottage in Nenthead. I can remember all four of us kids tearing down stairs, after our parents had only gone to bed an hour or so before preparing all of our presents. I can remember all eating together. I can remember all of our toys. The huge fire (at least it seemed huge at the time). The tinsel. Eating sweets and watching Christmas shows on the teevee.
Boyfriend is fanatical about Christmas time. I like to think he has brought it out in me. Put on some Bing Crosby, switch the fairy lights on, rustle the wrapping paper and he's like a ... well, a kid at Christmas.
I'm sure the saying goes, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
(p.s. It's only 44 sleeps until Christmas! http://www.xmasclock.com/)
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Sunday, 6 November 2011
Dad just called to confirm he's collecting me from Malaga airport next Monday so I couldn't be more excited. I'm happily surprised that he remembered I'm visiting and that he called to make sure everything was still going ahead. I swear that man is getting sensible with age. I'm going to see Dad, wife and baby brother and my 2 best friends in the whole world one of which is heavily pregnant, oh I can't wait!
Love going to Spain, it feels like I'm going back to my childhood home. My favourite view in the whole world is from my Dad's first house, out over the Axarquia valley.
Planning a big girly night in for our Mum To Be, pyjamas, good food, nail painting, face masks... Which should be excellent. Not to mention - A WEEK OFF WORK! Sadly, going it alone, Le Boyfriend is busy working. Gutted he won't be with me, but I guess our reunion will be like the stuff dreams are made off.
All in all - very excited.
(Did I mention it's like going back in time about 20 years? So no real connection to the outside world for me for FIVE WHOLE DAYS, ugh).