Salutations dear readers. Apologises for the lapse in my timely bloggings. I’ve had a complaint (from a black pot- you know who you are) and so I would just like to defend myself. I have been a butterfly. A social butterfly and I am exhausted!
The weekend following the last blog, Up North Lori came for the weekend and coincidentally Friday night was Champagne night, a dinner party with Landlady wife Sarah, and Kiddie doc Jen (the last time we would have our semi-regular Friday night gathering as the landlady wife is Glasgow bound next week). It was called champagne night as Sarah had a been given a very expensive bottle as a gift and had not got round to drinking it. We managed. We managed to drink another couple too. Due to my rather bossy instructions to drink lots of water, Lori and I didn’t feel too rough the next day after some frivolity and meeting my with psyche Suzie (she is a psychologist, only a little crazy) that evening we went to Andi’s Beaver and had some more wine.
The following weekend was Manchester with the Amazing Aimie. Back from Dubai for a month an still browner than a nut (that’s an odd expression isn’t it? I mean how brown are nuts?) The weekend actually started on Thursday and didn’t finish till Monday. Manchester was much fun. We shopped, went on a big wheel, drank pink fizz (amongst other things) and went dancing. The Manchester night life was not as wild as I was fearfully expecting, but filled with rather confusing people. At the club, the Scottish lacrosse team were there wearing kilts, but only one of whom was actually Scottish. A long haired tall man accused me of being a catholic and then on telling him I had no particular religious affiliation, then began to rant ‘you little protestant girl with your little protestant mother and protestant father in your little protestant town’. Odd. We managed to make it back to the hotel unscathed however the next day I feel more than a little under the weather. It didn’t help that the train was inhabited by a extremely loud drunk Glaswegian man who for the whole journey screeched a torrent profanities and on our arrival in Edinburgh he seemed entirely confused about where he was a began to scream ‘I’m in Edinburgh, is this Edinburgh? Where am I!’. Surface to say the rest if the carriage’s population waited until he had safely evacuated and did not rush to his aid.
I had wisely booked the Monday and Tuesday off work and this tuned out to most fortuitous as ‘Save the Children’ Dominic came to Edinburgh for visit on return from his epic Malawi trip and this descended into a dinner party of sorts with beer. Unfortunately, I did have to return to work the next day and the day was hard. Very hard. But the torture did not stop there. During the drunken dinner party I had received a phone call from Beaver Andi (oh, for those who don’t know, he was formerly Fort Willy Andi, but he recently moved to Edinburgh into a Beaverhall road flat). He took advantage of my drunken state and persuaded me to accompany him to ‘Body Pump’ on Thursday evening.
I wasn’t sure what body pump was. I knew it involved some kind of aerobics and music, but that was all. After dragging out my only passable (barely) gym outfit and fighting back the school PE flashbacks, I cautiously made my way to the gym. It was filled with lithe beauties who all seemed relaxed and like they were meant to be there. I met Andi he began to ‘reassure’ me by telling me what to expect. Imagine my surprise when he said that when we get inside we were to get a spot to set up our weights. Our weights, excuse me?! He had never mentioned weights. Yes, indeed Body Pump is weight lifting aerobics class. So not only did I ever to try and coordinate to music, but now I had to life weights as well. I was not amused. The Body Pump teacher was one of those impossibly beautiful fit people who always have a massive fixed grin and don’t sweat. I spent the entire class flailing around hopelessly trying to be coordinated and rather ineffectually lifting my weights. The actual class wasn’t entirely as hideous alas I had anticipated, but I don’t think Andi will waste his energy trying to persuade me to accompany him to the gym again.
So finally last night, I thought I might have a chilled night at home alone, but I am just a girl who can’t say no and ended up round at Andi’s beaver with my soon to be ex-wife watching the classic (i.e. cheesy) X-men 3 and a bottle of vine.
Tonight may prove to be my undoing as Cat is back! Yes she has returned from Oz (hopefully less scary wheelie creatures in her journey) and tonight we are having a party at the Beaver (of course) and then on Tuesday, she become my new wife! Yes, I have wasted no time. When Sarah leaves on Tuesday, Cat will take her place. I need to have a blonde in my life and whilst I mourn the passing of Sarah to the abyss that is Glasgow, I look forward to living with Cat and hopefully finally meeting the eponymous Lewis (the boy who has just ‘given’ her his spare car).
Amongst all this excitement, Aimie is back for another weekend, there is Karen’s leaving do to be had and I’m trying to squeeze in a cocktail night with Artist Laura and Maggie – the original girl from Oz may be making an appearance!
As I said, I am a butterfly.
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