some people....

...really get on my tits!

Yesterday was a another mad dash.. get "fever-boy" ready for his interview, pack my bag for Scotland - another easier-said-than-done task. So as to avoid any hold-luggage, I use only a small cabin bag which as yet only seems to have "reverse tardis" qualities... ie after 2 socks and an iPod its bursting at the seams!.. ok so I leave the peach bridesmaids dress and all the tiaras - I doubt i'll get to wear them much up there anyway and my mother will only "tut"

So cab arrives (do you really think I was going to take luggage on a humid tube train? - I think not). My housemate comes with us and all 3 set off into the city, like The Beverly Hillbillies except in Hugo Boss

I'm the last drop (how rude!) and I get to work... easy day.... am so excited about getting on that plane that nothing will spoil it (yeah right).. Even meeting my ex (see the "Exit pursued by a bear" entry in this blog, way back at the very first entry - http://theblondandi.blogspot.com) isn't going to bring me down. he wants to see me to give me something - better be a letter of apology and not a bomb! - ok bad taste given recent events

The first delivery from my batch of new laptops arrives... mmm sexy.. I can see I will get no work done today now.. time to play - I mean set up.. cough ahem...

I have a quick coffee outside with Wayne from next door - he is SO cute, thats a story for another entry... I decide its best that Dusty (my ex) doesn't come to the office to drop off this "whatever it is" or he may make a scene and humiliate me.. NO WAY!. I text him and say we'll meet in Starbucks

{This is paragraph 6. Remember for later :) - We meet.. and to cut a long story short, more because I can feel my heckles rising, he blurts out what he has to say, a combination of "I think I still love you but you were to blame".. nice double whammy that. As usual, he manages to extract information from me that's best left alone and has subsequently managed to piss off more people I either care about or were a new friend that I was cultivating a relationship with. Fortunately for me, the friends know what he's like and its water off a ducks back. Perhaps the same may not be said for all, but right now, thats not my problem any more.

Taxi arrives to pick me up at 4:45 (see above re traveling with luggage) and I head for Victoria. I'm there before Charlie (she is probably buying more shoes) and I have to remember not to run with a bag in case i'm shot at by the police. I seem to be stalked by a man dressed as a Cornish Pastie who is giving out leaflets (note to self, NEVER EVER complain about my job again)

Charlie finally arrives and we board the nearest 1st class carriage. Now, you don't know much about Charlie yet but you will in Blogs to come... She is a very English lady with very strong views somewhere to the right of Attila the hun. This combined with being the opposite of a shy retiring wall flower, makes her a bit of a force to behold. As a result, most straight men are terrified of her. SO anyway, we board the train, she sees a piece of luggage unattended and rightfully asks the entire carriage "whose bag is this"?.. Despite being Scottish, I become very very English, blush and try to shush her up. By now a man outside the train has banged on the window to indicate the bag is his. She then proceeds to lecture him (through the glass) on how stupid this is during the heightened security. I, of course am now 3 foot high and mortified with shame. I've already legged it through the connecting door to the other carriage, where I hide in a seat. Needless to say she follows through all smiley as ever, good deed done for the day and wiping the blood off her hands.

The journey is great. non stop train, non stop check-ng as I printed our boarding cards at home, through fast-track security and into the exec lounge. 4 large bloody marys and a mound of sandwiches later i'm ready for bed.

After a slight 30 min delay on the tarmac because Inverness is low priority on the take off slots as usual, we depart. What a cramped flight! it was so full!

at this point I need to stop my blog.. my mother is bellowing up the stairs that my breakfast is ready... ahh the home life!.. more later

ahh thats better.. so we land, get through to my home town, drop, unpack and have a drink thrust into our hands within 10 minutes - all is well....

UNTIL... the texts started arriving from one of the guys mentioned in the conversation way back in paragraph 6, we'll call him Kev for now. It intimated that i had been less than discreet about given conversations which simply wasn't true. As usual, a titbit was turned into a feast in true dramatic style. I am now angry. Net result, said guy thinks its best we no longer communicate. Normally at this point i would pester him till he fully understood the truth but you know what?.... bollocks. I have a lot of really close friends who love me. If someone chooses to believe the tat that can spew from someone else's mouth because it has more dramatic clout to it, then their issue.

It was now late and the combination of the mamoth, well not so much "Bloody Mary" as "Jesus Fucking Christ Mary!" (50/50 vodka/tomato juice) i'd had in the airport lounge, the G&T on the plane and the rather ample JD&C my dad had poured me, kicked off the slumber mode...

I slept like a baby on night-nurse (and by that i don't mean Baby Jane Hudson! - how rude)