Back to Bloggin'

OK - so I have been lame - very lame - in fact lamer that Heather Mills - in more way that one. Can I say that? Yes I can ;-)
So I have to write something since I am getting it from various sources, from my bored friends back in the UK with not much to do except look forward to the next installment of Correy.
I think my excuse for being so tardy in the blogging department may have something to do with the plethora of visitors I have had gracing me with their presence. It all started in June, when Helen came over form London for a 3 week stay. Then Mike came for 10 days, Vicky and her sis, granted only required my expert tour guide skills for a Friday night, than Alistair - who I have known since my 1st day at Uni - Bless - we go back a long time. He left today, and I am finally back on track. Fed up with playinjg with my new super duper PC, and am knuckling down to some serious writing. My book - deep breath will re-commence in a few days - once I have got a my room back to it's clinical normalness, there will be no stopping me.
What have I been up to? - well, apart from 5 trips to Alcatraz, Golden Gate bridge, Twin Peaks at night (city lights and all that), I am a fully fledged member of 24 hour fitness - that's right you read it right. I thought I may actually get fit while looking for a suitor. Decided after 4 swimming sessions that aged, beer bellied Mexicans weren't my cup of tea and have not been back for 6 weeks. Alas, no man, two spare tyres and a lot of unused Nike gear later I must really try and get my ass to the gym. Only for Yoga - which does wonders for the times one does get lucky and laid, and also makes one less embarrassed when popping a cheeky trump out - even the instructor does it. Oh, and swimming - I do like the exclusivity in MY gym - one gets to swim in sea water (gimmick - got me to sign up), you actually get a lane to yourself. By law. It says on a sign clearly posted at the water's edge. If mad Brit seen squeezed into a 4 year old costume jumps in and swims frantically, arms and legs flailing, get out of the pool and immediately congregate at the foyer. Well, something like that as I seem to clear the pool when I thrash out 40 lengths. You know, as I do.
I have had so many great times of late I really find it difficult to write anything without sounding like a smug twat. But I am sure I can brush over that. Just for you guys. Oh you guys.
Bonfire night made it across the pond this year - again a third time round for the party of the year, well for me that is. I went to my Mum's house for the day, and baked Yorkshire Parkin and toffee in a pan, oh it took so long to set, and when it did it stopped me gabbing on for at least a minute, it was very sticky and succeeded only slight better at gluing my teeth together than 'Will Stick Absolutely Anything Glue' yeah, it is a brand name in this land. Mum made meat and potato pie with mush peas and the obligatory mint sauce in vinegar. Yum.
We have a tradition of making a guy and then testing it for dancability, likeness and burn ability. Mike Grant and I were the only ones who could be arsed. We made Paul Mc Cartney and Heather Mills, hence the mention at the beginning of this piece. I won the competition on all three counts, and boy did she burn. I paid $5 for the nylon ensemblee she wore, me Mam donated a bra, a pillow and some rubber gloves. I finished the look off by hiding a few fire crackers in her head and Bob's your mother's live in lover she won. What a beauty.
What else? Hum, a few great nights out in the city involving booty calls, fallings out and a few shots too many. I must mention I have started shots again with devastating effects. I spent last Saturday in bed all day, groaning and trying to summons enough energy to get back on it with Al at night. Where is my old roomie whith the Vicadins when you need him?
Oh, I got dumped, yeah I know shock horror - should take the git off my blog - he is on a few pics down. But it's all a chapter as we say in my family. Just need to get the time to actually create a bleedi' chapter now. Seriously, I am on it.
Oh, Fiona an Irish lass who has been here for over 10 years just gave birth to Oscar. Well done Fi. 6 weeks early like he could have waited until you got your Christmas shopping out of the way. Talking of which I am thinking of sponsoring a donkey for my family for Christmas. Do you think that will go down better than a cashmere sweater? I don't want to be a bar humbug, but it is bollox really isn't it? I have 10 pairs of pj's endless books, and all the media shite I want. Just keep your hands on your wallets family because Santa will not be emptying his sack under my tree this year.
Oh bands seen in the past few include; Beautiful South, Placebo, She Wants Revenge, Bob Dylan and The Kings of Leon. Bands seeing next month Killers - that's all you need to know. I am happy to finally see them since last month I had tickets and got the dates mixed up therefore missed the little blighters.
OK off to bed I go.
Night

Here is Moss Beach at sunset, which is my favourite beach, as it has beautiful tide pools. There is me in Pilar Point Harbor with the coast line in the horizon, and finally me on my Step Dad's truck outside my mate's in Moss Beach. I hope the pics are OK for now. I will do a blog when I get more time x

Pumpkins, Mike, Jo and Charles

Just a few of the 30 cats I looked after for my Mother

Country Roads - La Honda Land

Coastal Gorgeousness

Happy Halloween

Here are a few tasters of last Saturday at the 'Only Pumpkin Labarynth on the Coast'.
Mike Edmeads - AKA Dedders or Mental Mike. He has been here for 10 days - had a ball (I hope). Will write more later - Hooked up to the Net at home tonight - so I can do this in my own time - Bet my Boss will be pleased ;-)

Bugger Me It's Raining

Just so you know - It has been pissing it down in San Mateo County CALIFORNIA since yesterday morning, and I am not a happy camper. Well, if I was actually camping instead of being seated in my luxurious new bedroom I would certainly not be in the best of moods. The reason for the rain is because Mike is here on a visit from Kent, UK. Keeping me company while I house sit for my folks in La Honda.
I think he brought me the rain, as well as t-bags, Marmite, Cruncie bars, Galaxy (2 massive blocks of the stuff), Germaloids cream, Oxo's and a beautiful camel coloured Crombie style coat from Marks and Spencer (see pic). Funny the things one misses from home. If you are wondering about the Germaliods, yes they are for one's piles. The USA version doesn't quite cut the mus-turd!
Yes, the rain. It makes already shite drivers more dangerous. Mind you, I did contribute to a fancy bit of accident avoidance this morning. Driving my Step Dad's GMC 4 wheel truck up the very windy slippery and wet road, I skidded on the white line, and had a bit of a scary moment. Basically the back wheels gave way, similar to the legs of an aged German Shepherd, and I had a job on controlling the situation. Just looking over at Mike's face made me realise we were nearly in a wreck and since there was a truck coming round the bend at the time I did well avoiding carnage. I had been warned by my Dad not to drive his truck in the rain because of it's dodgy back end, but had no choice a since it was 'garbage' day I had to haul the bins to the end of Peek-A-Boo Lane. Job for the GMC, nearly resulting in multiple injuries, but one would not want Mummsie coming home to full trash cans from her holidays even if it did mean her only daughter ended up in hospital. Mike I know it was YOU who lugged the rubbish about, but do you know how hard it is to keep a flow in the story if one has to insert minor details? ;-)
Anyway - It still rains on my lovely adopted country. I am pleased in a way - saved me telling Mike to sort out Mum's irrigation!

NEW FORMAT

Hi,
I am pissed off. I lost half of my 'massage' blog while uploading the new Blogger format.
It is now a fancier version of its predecessor, wonder if the Sp check works better now? I hope so ;-)
My friend Mike of the mentalist variety - a self proclaimed Mentalist in fact - Proper noun? Not sure. Is visiting for 10 days. Anyway, I am completely worn out, as not only have a a lovely friendly and fellow crazy mo fo in da house - I am house, business and cat sitting for 30 cats while my folks are back in Blighty.
More on this later.

I miss these

adopt your own virtual pet!

Deep Tissue Torture

Good Afternoon.
It is an amazing feat that I can actually sit here and type today, since I participated in the most expensive form of torture, yeah - I paid for it; known to man kind last night. I decided to endure a 90 minute session with a little Ninja Japanese lady called Ileen. Reason being that I am sick to the back teeth with trying to ease the pain of my right shoulder with a highlighter pen! Strange but true - I used to alleviate the stabbing sensations with a ball hammer, when in the landscaping business, but since I am now in a position which requires lots of sitting one's arse with a pen pot of deliciously different writing implements in fornt of me I have progressed onto the good old luminous yellow marker.
I was listening to my pregnant friend Fiona talking about her Carpol Tunnel Syndrome the other night over dinner and began to wonder if I was either a) expecting or b) overdoing it with the old mouse. It is definitely not the first presumption as I have been in a moaney biatch the last few due to a pending menstruation (sorry). Ninja woman said it is the intense mouse action I participate in for 7 hours a day.

I will now try and explain to the best I can (with as little mouse maneuvering as possible) the agonizingly awful experience I had at the 'Face and Beauty Works', I know it sounded fabulous to me too (yesterday evening).

Firstly I perused the menu and decided that $110 for a 90 min session of deep tissue sports massage therapy would be sufficient, after all I am not an Amex Black Card holder yet (give me time), and even though I do need a serious bikini wax - the $85 sides, round the corner and tush wax was gonna have to wait (birthday treat). A tush is an ass for those of you wondering - I had to ask ;-). Then I was asked to sign my life away by means of a waiver form, I panicked when I was asked to give my next of kin. What exactly could happen in this softly lit candle cleptomaniac's dreamboat of a salon? Maybe I was coming to a massacre parlor instead of massage palor, well, I am living in San Francisco after all.

I drank a glass of water - By order, then took my kit off and waited face down on a bed of white fluffy terry-towel clad gorgeousness. Waited, waited, then began to crap my pants (well, I wasn't wearing any but you get my drift).

ENTER THE NINJA.

My pain is on my right shoulder - RIGHT? The left one was pulverized first. I am sure her teeth were grit tight, like she was trying to open a beer with her pearly whites. This hurt - like a white pain, that's all I can say. Like a red hot poker stabbing into the depths of my flesh, like a small golf shoe clad fat dwarf jumping up and down then stubbing out a cigarette on my shoulder. You know just a little bit of pain. Tough Northern lass like me could cope with it. I was asked several times over if it hurt. Once I regained consciousness, I told her it was the sort of pain one likes, you know means to an end and all that jazz. I nearly fell through the floor when her attention focused on the shoulder in question, the one which had survived ball hammer and highlighter blows for the past two years. Friggin hell fire. Boy did it hurt. The pain is worse than a migrain which is self induced after a bottle of tequila (the hangover on 5th July springs to mind - note to oneself - DON"T do that EVER again). It was really painful. But I survived.

The rest of the full body massage went well. My arms and legs were pulled, distorted and squashed, no pain there then. I was wondering how long this had actually been going on, as I seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. I though my time must be up by now. Oh no. No, no, no no. It was back to the little shoulder problem... 30 more minutes of intense agony. Followed my a nice glass of H2O and a chat on stretches and how to position my PC screen. All I really wanted to do was get up and run for the hills. I could not however as I was naked and immobile, my muscles had all died and gone to heaven. It actually felt really good once I'd got over the initial shock of it all. I wish I could say the same for the day after.

I have done nothing but moan, groan and bitch all day. My Step dad thinks it is hilarious especially since I am trying to claim the whole procedure on company expenses. Work injury right?

I was recommended to go back once a fortnight - Like hell. Yeah and at $110 a pop I bet Ninja Bonce would like to see me again. No I think I will stick to my new swimming regime and the towel behind the back stretches she showed me. I am seriously considering hair removal creaming the old bikini line, I am not sure I dare set foot in that place again.

See Ya x

Flu Pooh

Hello - I am sick. Yeah, yeah I know what the comments are already. Not in the head, you know physically, feather up the nose, cheese grater in the throat, elephant on head type of sick. Ill to you Brits, sick to my neighbourley Yankie Doodle Dandies.
I moved on Friday and have not unpacked yet. I stayed in bed feeling sorry for myself all day and even my Mother, who now lives a mere 30 miles from my house as opposed to 6.5 thousand miles did not even bother to come and visit with home comforts. A hug would have done. Maybe the menapause stops one feeing any form of compassion. I don't actually recall her approaching me for a hug in the past few years. I usually have to rugby tackle her for a snuggle.
It is shite being ill on your own in a foreign country, cann't even speak to my girlies in Europe due to the seeming unfair, conspiracy against Jo eight hour time difference. It is times like this when you feel a tingle of homesickness.
It is my man's fault I have the lurgy, and yes he knows it. He is still recovering from a three day off-sick-a-thon and had to work a silly 24 hour day with 3 hours for dinner, so I reckon he has it a wee bit tougher than me. But I am a girl, and going against all my independent woman traits, I do love a bit of sympathy when I cannot even manage a cigarette. I suppose it's not a bad thing I have not had a fag in 4 days or more, maybe I could finally quit. Watch this space.
I am sat in my newly built local library, which is utterly brilliant. There are over 100 PC stations all with 20" screens and a 2 hour minimum, no booking bollox time slot. Much different to librarys in England, where there is a Hitler type of elederly volunteer gleefully telling you that you can use PC number 2 for 5 seconds befor a bunch of school kids take over to play a Grand Tarismo tournament. Also one can take out 50 items at a time, including free DVD's CD's and the latest Mags. I am impressed. However there seems to be the same noise policy as there is in the cinema here. Basically shouting on your mobile phone is OK, in fact I would say you could have a confrence call in here and no one would bat an eyelid. I Pods seem to be attached to the ears of any kid 6 months and up; I am sure the volume set so loud will eventually burst their little precious ear drums. Does this mean we will all be shouting at each other in the next 30 years, even if we don't have old-age as an excuse? I wonder...
I am impressed with this place and it was a toss up between joining here or the gym tonight. Don't think an hour listening to pumped up twat in a leotard telling me about the various body busting machines I'm never gonna use would have been half the fun.
OK better get off - hopefully to get a but of sympathy for my sniffly nose and annoying cough.
I miss you all and really do hope you are feeling well.

Moving House

Hello.
Long time no contact, but I am a lazy dog. With far too much to do than sit around and blog. Not that I don't love ya, love writing or love wasting valuable work time, guess it's the new boyfriend taking up all my time ;-) Hello Charles.
I am moving from the not so clean South of Market neighborhood in San Francisco, farewell to my lovely roomie Mike and his adorable dog Frida and the girls (cats) Fatty and Retardo. I am not sure if I will see the girls to say goodbye properly since they have been banished to the outerwilderness which lays in wait beyond the back door, all because they insisted on lounging around on the new sofa all day. What is a cat supposed to do? Apparently a mouse has been half eaten and our friendly neighborhood rat Roland has been seen carrying a spotted hankie on a stick. So it's all about the circle of life, and today my cycle into complete dementia is turning a new trajectory. I am moving to the 'burbs. To San Mateo. Which is the 1st place my Mother lived when she moved out here in 1989.
I have a studio room, so a big garage with beamed ceilings and a separate loo and sink. Then I have access to the main house where my new roomie Annie lives.
It will be a change for me living with a girl. Let's just say it's best I am in my self contained unit for what will probably be most of the evening as the last time I shared with a girl, Danielle it ended in disaster all over a ripped skirt and a missing earring. Or was it because she was insanely jealous of my new squeeze at the time, or just something to do with the walls being ice cream cone thin? Anyway I have not lived with another female for at least 8 years. My that is a long time, did not realise until I started doing the math.
Can you believe it is September? Which means another birthday is looming, always seems a depressing thought when one's single, selfish and solito (thought I'd throw a bit of Spanish in for the 3rd s, just so you know I have not lost the nack). Anyway I need not worry about another birthday alone. As I have already mentioned I am 'going steady' with an extremely lovely gentleman. He is in computers, like 40% of the population in NorCal, works in SF and lives in Daily City. Which for those of you who don't already know is probably the most foggy place I have ever been to, and I grew up near the Yorkshire Moors.
The relationship is heading in the direction I am in favour of, which makes a refreshing change, but as always I will say no more just In case AmericanPsycho tendencies rear their ugly head. You can never bee too careful. Obviously being absolutely careless for the past 31 years makes me qualified to spout such words of wisdom. He is helping me move in fact, so I know he's a glutton for punishment - will do for me then!
It is really warm here still, though I'd throw that in for you lot in the UK. What's the score with Blair then? Did you hear about Steve Irwin Crocodile Hunter/Saver Extrodinnaire - OK that's as far as my tribute goes. We all know he was a complete and utter freak. End of.
Hummmmm, what more can I tell you?
Oh yeah, I am looking forward to my mate Mike popping across the Altantic to see me in October, and also my mate Vickie is popping over to, with her family, on a road trip. They will be swinging the Winnebago through San Fran so I am looking forward to seeing them all. I like the odd visitor. Not too many though - don't start booking en mass. I am sure I will have lots of pics from their trips, sop I will keep you posted.
Until then, don't swim with a stingray, and don't shove your tongue as far as you possibly can down Bush's pants, you will end up dead or wishing you were.
Goodnight.

Sunset at Chrissy Fields

Tres Generations - and I am not talking tequila

This is one of my favourite family photos. Myself, Grandma and Mum, all laughing. Happy memories from last summer's UK vacation. Mum brought the two youngest step kids with my step Dad for their 1st UK visit. I am off to do some work - I know it's Friday too! I will be blogging by the end of the day.

Animal Farm

The black dog is Freida my room mate's dog; the brown one Monty Mum's dog the cat is Heather Mum's only house cat out of the 24 cats she has, and the bull and horse are from the Rodeo which took place the weekend before last.

Jo and Helen in Mr Bings North Beach

Messing About With Kodak Photoshop

Most Expensive Pooh Ever Shat

Not a very pleasant title I know - But I had to tell you about my Thursday evening. And it stared with a shit- never though it could come to this...
Yeah, I am very fortunate to be driving Mum's car until she flogs it. It is a lovely V6 VW Jetta - with dog section, you know for when I get fed up of looking for a husband and succumb to buying a pooch. Black, shiny, nice tires, all the usual stuff a car which one is not paying a penny for should be - sweet. Free.
Knowing how my life tends to pan out I should have known that nowt in life comes for free. Not even for me. My interpretation of having a sweet life is contradictory to most of my mate's perceptions. My life of late has been a bag of crap,and last night as I cruised out of work at 3.15pm, full of the joys of summer, lapping up the 90 degree heat with the sun roof down and my long locks a flowing - making me look like a cross between Tina Turner and Ike's.
Anyway, I got to my street at 4pm and cruised around the block for a parking space. Let me explain the parking situation in my 'hood. Right in front of the door one can park all day with a resident's permit. I have asked about these but am still not sure what I can do to get one, or if indeed if I am eligible for one. Before I get a bollocking from Mike (my roomie)for transcribing incorrect information re this issue - I really don't know how to get a parking pass. All I do know is that if I do decide to park outside the house, I have to move the wheels at least a foot every hour, and cannot park there at all on a Tuesday after midnight, which is street cleaning night. Mind you, none of these obstacles designed to make an already neurotic Yorkshire woman go crazy bonkers with an 8 piece drill and bit set (name the show)seemed to perturb the homeless guy who's been living in his old Chevy for the last few days with only a few joints and a family bucket of KFC to keep him occupied. I know this as I got a good view of him while doing the odd spot of ironing t'other night.
Yeah, so parking is a problem. So after 30 mins or more I decided that if I spent any more time looking for the never appearing spot, there was gonna be some serious valeting going on, not too good on the leather seats, so a dollar in a meter and off I dashed, to the loo.
Ten minutes, ten bloody minutes later I went back to the car, well, I didn't because it had gone. For once I was helped by a bum, the homeless guy who occupies the right hand sided street corner near the house informed me it had been towed. Towed. TOWED.
I had to go and retrieve the vehicle from some car park on 7th. I knew it was gonna be an expensive shit, but my God, $188 for releasing the car. I was not crying at this point as I signed my Visa slip, in fact I was a good girl, courteous to the cashier, even opened a door for the next member of public to be ripped off. No, there were no tears. Until I got to the car, noticed a piece of unfamiliar paper on the windscreen, and opened it to discover a paring ticket, for $60. Twas then that I started to bawl.
Lesson learned.
Go to the loo before you leave work for the day.

Time hi h hime is on my side - yes it is

Bugger me - well, don't , well, wait 'till I am dead 1st. Yes I am still breathing the smoggy foggy air of one of the most beautiful and cosmopolitan cities in the world. San Francisco has been awash with foreign folk - well, since probably colonlisation - but I'd say I have noticed it since the World Cup started.

Yeah - yeah - yeah - we were absolutly shite - AND I am not gonna waste my time trying to defend England's absolutly pants performance over the past few weeks - All I can really say now is that I hope Italy win and with that win bringeth a plethora of hunky single Italian men to the bars in North Beach on Sunday - Note to me - no plans only sharking in various street side cafes all day - with a blue t-shirt for good measures and a canny grin upon face.

So what have you lot been up to? I should know because my inbox has been getting rather full of friends asking how the hell am I since blogging has been on a back burner yet again. I must say writing down all the nitty gritties would have even the naughtiest of you blushing. I have been razzing it up frequently - Not only due to the arrival of summer in California (in case you forgot where I reside) but just because I can really. Mind you after getting my credit card bill this month I think I am gonna have to put a lid on my newly acquired shopping addiction, especially my strange fettish for all things thong like - knickers and flip flops - It is about time I realised all the colours in the rainbow are not a necessity for summer foot fashion, and if all truth be known I am still clinging onto my Ugg boot wearing craze. Sheer comfort and the fitting in with the crowd element wins hands down, well someone has to give the homeless some competition.

I must admit to another addiction right here - right now - Gosh I feel like I am introducing myself to the first session of a 12 steps programme. I am hooked on Match.com

Laugh you may at some of my solicitation tacticts on the internet - Well my dears I cannot stop - I have had to knock emailing on the head in working hours - and when I am not at work I am too busy dating to catch up. I am getting 30 hits a day - over 6,000 blokes have read my profile and 5,999 have dated me!!! OK - Well, not too far from the truth. I just can't get enough in the words of Marc Boland - or was it Nolan??

I have dated a Lawyer, a Pediatrician, an Accountant, a Limo company owner, an Author, a Cop, a Piolot and a Power Ranger. Now there is a whole load of blogging to be done on this subject alone - but I am saving it for the book - I am supposed to be editing one said romance at the moment - but frankly am far to embarrassed to let my room mate Mike get his mitts on it (he's offered his editing skills - which amount to none but he's after some ammo)- for fear of banishing me to the looney bin instantly - Well, I do get a tad carried away at times. Don't I?

All this in search for true love. Well - It has to stop - I hav cancelled my subscription (for the 2nd time)and under the strict advice of my dear friend Leanne I am seeking out a plumber - Anyone know a good one?

Why didn't we win the World Cup?

So, I am trying to do something constructive with my time and have an interview with a Mentor programme on Tuesday - Ironic innit? Don't think I will be giving the guys my blog address during the meeting. Let's hope I can find something a little more constructive and worthwhole to do in my spare time. And you never know what is just around the corner...

Laugh at my spelling all you want - I am off on a date and have no time to spell check ;-)

UP DATE

Hello - I am back again - Finally I have a minute to my self to make a note in my blog diary. I have been so busy for the past month as I have had a house guest, Helen over from London. It has been full on partying and entertaining which started at the beginning of the month with a camp out Harper stylee at my Mum's place in La Honda.
La Honda is famed for Ken Casey and his Merry Pranksters; he kidnapped, well bribed a bunch of hippies form Haight Ashbury to jump aboard an old school bus, take shit loads of acid and travel the country causing mayhem all in the name of science. Basically he drugged a load of the 1969 Summer Of Love guys and gals and conducted various tests on them - to see what would happen in certain situations while they were high on acid.
La Honda still homes some of these '70's throw backs and this all makes for an interesting trip to the famous Apple Jacks bar which is 3 mile North of Mum's house up Highway 84. Loads of Redwood trees, fishing holes, creeks and complete greenery not dissimilar to my homeland Yorkshire. That is the reason Mum likes the area so much hence moved there 6 years ago. She has 4 1/2 acres of land with a perfect spot for camping down "The Creek". I invited a bunch of guys (see I am Yanking it up big stylee) over for Helen's first weekend and we waded across the creek to a little island, pitched our tents and stayed there for the night - The BBQ and camp fire blazed all night and we all had a ball.
I am not gonna rant in my usual tone as I am absolutely knackered, but figured it was about time to quash all rumors I'd met my dream man, moved to Bali and am now living without any communication to the outside world with a Mojito in one hand and a preoccupation with the dream boy who is peeling grapes at my side. Feeding me and fanning me with an aptly shaped palm tree branch - Yeah one can dream.
I am still in San Fran, burning the candle at both ends - dating on Match.com and generally surviving of 5 hours sleep and the odd burrito. I must locate my nearest supermarket. Vegies and fruit are lacking in my diet. In fact I have eaten at home once in the past month - Hence the picture - See I can cook Yorkshires :-)
It has been mental having another woman in the flat. Even more weird sharing my bed for nearly a month. I am still clinging onto my teddy sleeping close to the wall - on my back fully utilizing my Tempurpedic pillow. By the way, the pillow, which I stole from my Mum's is so gorgeously comfy, I recommend you rush out and buy one now. This is the sole reason I can get away with 5 hours sleep. Fantastic.
Sad news on the home front - My Walter Mitty esq Granddad has been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, which is causing a bit of concern, but at the same time endless hours of amusement. The latest one being he's hidden the jam so Grandma cannot scoff it. I wonder if it will be still in date when he finds it again?
It was 110 degrees f yesterday at work, and it made it hard to keep my eyes open on the way home. I fell asleep on all 3 modes of transport, and at the BART (underground) platform, much to the amusement of fellow passengers - especially as I had a skirt on - and fetal position is not too flattering while balancing on a concrete bench with metal stoppers to prevent skate boarders from grinding on it. This heat is almost unbearable.
I have missed all 3 England Football matches, which is not good - They are on at stupid o'clock, and work doesn't seem to holt to a stop for the World Cup so I have been a little perturbed to say the least - Looking forward to a 7 am start on Sunday in my local British pub, The Mad Dog In The Fog. Come on Eng-er-land.
Ok I am off for now, I wont make any promises to write soon with more fun and frolics from San Francisco. But all I can say for sure I will be having a ball.
I hope the sun is shining where you are.
Jo x

Rocky Start to The Week

Well, well well - She's back and fighting fit - I have to tell you about my rock climbing experience at the Touchstone Mission Cliffs in San Francisco last night. I was on a date and a very touch feely date it was - All that harness strapping, tying up - I mean off and of course the super sleek sports bra and shiny lycra leggings - Purchased only hours before at my favourite city store Ross Dress For Less. Any excuse to purchase more clothes that won't fit into my ever increasing wardrobe. That reminds me I must buy a car soon - I need to purchase a chest of drawers and I would need a vehicle to get it home in! Now to some of you, that seems like rather an extravigant purchase for the sake of a set of drawers; but something I need to get soon. My 2 hour each way commute is wearing a bit thin now and the most painful part of the 40 mile journey by bus, train and shuttle bus is avoiding all the morning smilers which seem to be as much a part of this place as Alkatraz.
Back to the climbing. I knew I would have no fear, well, except that of breaking a finger nail, and I was right - I listened intently, remembering the waiver form I'd just signed and noting the very limited holiday insurance I purchased just before my rafting weekend, which is actually null and void as I am residing here not holidaying. My date - who shall remain nameless - he knows who he is,is very experienced in the rock climbing department - Mind you's he'd have to be used to manouvering mountains if he is gonna hang with me! Yes - The boys are still in town even though my recent 14lb weight loss reduced the puppies to only a D-Cup.
I quickly progressed from a 5.0 to a 5.4 - (I think that's the classification). I learned how to put one foot on top of the other and quickly move the bottom one whilst keeping a hold on the rock face and looking good :-), this action has a name I forget but I am sure I can incorporate it into one of my dance moves none the less. I will have to get bck to you on the specifics.
The boulders looked interesting, no ropes required and a lot of body bending, grunting and contemplation. Sounds like many a Saturday night I know. I ned a lot of pratice before I'd consider or be allowed to scale one of those beauties. It was whilst watching my man do his stuff on them I decided a 20 minute intensive up hill bike ride was a good idea. My face went beetroot in approximately 2 minutes and I had a very sweaty tummy - You go girl. Walking down to the steps to the water fountain was an experience after it I can tell you.
A trip for tapas down the Mission was a splendid end to the evening, even though I managed 3 bits of calamari and 1/2 a quesedia - you know not wanting to pile on the 300 calories I'd just broken my back to burn off!
So there you go, another Harper 1st - I loved it.
Appologies for spell check absence - What is it with this PC?

I Am Alive

Well, well, well. I finally have the time and inclination to get back on track with my blog. As you can imagine a whole month in San Francisco can conjure up many a funny tale, in fact I am not sure where to begin.
First things first. I would like to public shame the bloke who thought he'd captured my heart and tell you what a complete wanker he turned out to be. The man from the internet who wanted to meet my Grandparents in the UK and even mentioned a trip to see me in Barcelona on more than one occasion turned out to be a Billy Bullshitter and he is no more. I would tell you more on this but I'd have to kill you. Let's just say his Government job made it difficult to call me and pamper me with the basic things in life you know like taking me out (for a start) and returning my calls and texts more than once a week. His job also was against my moral standings and it was probably for my own good that he turned out to be a flake.
Anyway, that's that over and done with and I am having a lot more fun now I seem to have shaken that little affair off my shoulders. Talking of which mine are killing me, not only due to the fact I drove for 3 hours with the sun roof open, no sun cream in 90 degree heat but also because I have just spent a fantastic weekend north of Sacramento at the American River, camping and the shoulder killing rafting. It was a 'level 3 plus' sort of a weekend on the river, which to those of you who have had the pleasure of white water rafting will know it's not for pussies, but not for the complete adrenalin freak either. The most balls needed for the weekend was the fact I had met my camping (in a 10 man tent - together - boys and girls) buddies on line at a Yahoo SF New Comers site. The trip organiser Spencer was almost too good at getting 8 complete strangers to entrust each other with their lives, well that may be a bit melodramatic, actually it isn't 'cause if we did not row together as a team no doubt we'd have been rafting round in circles all day Saturday.
It was an added bonus Spencer is in the wine business, which is a very serious occupation in these parts. I must admit I have not touched a drop of European wine since I landed in San Francisco, one doesn't need to as Napa and Sonoma are so close to the Bay Area in fact they are in the Bay Area. Anyway I managed to help polish a case (12 bottles) off over the weekend. With a little help from my 'new' friends.
I have pictures but have been a little busy to down load them, and to be totally honest (could I be 'owt else?) , I have not figured out how to download recent pictures only without having to duplicate the ones I have already got on the PC - No wonder this bloody thing keeps freezing, my camera's carrying 500 pics at the minute, too much memory munching if you ask me.
As usual I digress (God, have I missed writing this ;-) ). Oh yeah rafting - rhymes with shafting, which is apt since the American River was the place where the Gold Rush started in 1849 - Hence the San Francisco 49'ers football team's name. See, I am not just here getting hammered, dancing, smoking and sunbathing - A little history never hurt anyone, and you should be thankful I am here finding all of this out for you. Most of my readers are living in the UK and I just know you are pleased to sacrifice your 2 days of sun to come home from work, read this and appreciate all the new stuff I am teaching you! That sentence does not make sense after reading it back, but I know what I am on about, and frankly I am too tired from drinking copious amounts of wine, breakdancing round the campfire and rowing like my life depended on it to give a crap and amend. Feel free to make a comment.
I was gonna write a list of activities I have done in the past 6 weeks (on Thursday) that I have been here, but I forgot my diary today and I am just about to cadge a lift from my Step Dad to his house for tea with Mummy and her 2 mates who have just landed from the UK, Terry and Barry - Classic comedy value names don't you agree? I will however pass on my goings one, and also observations from traipsing round the city on busses and trains.
Have you ever seen a guy injecting heroin outside your front door when you get home from work? Have you ever seen someone clipping their finger nails on a public bus? Have you seen a man cleaning his ears out with a cotton bud on the same public bus as the random nail clipperrer? Well, I have - so even though the sun is cracking the flags, life isn't all a bed of roses. The heroin addict has moved a few doors down since I called the cops on him twice. See not all San Franciscans are selfish druggies with no consideration for others - I just wish he'd take his needles home with him!

Bay Bridge

Thanks Mike for rotating this for me. I really like this picture. I now need to know how to delete the previous one. I am gonna email Blogger.

Opening of The Bay Day Sunday 31st April

Does anyone know how I can move the image round so it's portrait?
Taken on my boat trip on Sunday - Look shit but I am in a rush to get something on today!

Best Of British On Baker Beach

OK no time to Blog - So a bikini picture it is!! Don't know what the deal is with the arms - I am certainly not doing Yoga. I have so much to write and no time - More pictures later on and I promise by the end of the week I will have time to write.
This is a picture taken on Sunday at Baker Beach - as you can see it has wicked views of the Golden Gate Bridge - a perfect spot to chill after a heavy session on Saturday night. Please stay with me - I have so much to say, you would not believe.
Jo x

April Fool Day Night

I am in San Francisco, I know I have been crap Blogging - I will be back next week. Got a lot on...
I just wanted to say thanks so much for coming to my leaving dinner in Leeds. I loves seeing you all - Here are some pics from the night - You know who you are.
Jo x

Friends For Life

Hello my dear Blog-buddies,


Hope your weekend has been half as gorgeous as mine then we'd all be happy.
It is that time of year when one feels an urge to connect with one's blisful memories of an age past when one was a student. I just had to meet up with my friends Jon and Jim who were part of the 5 strong posse in the first year at York. Jim's lovely lady Jo was there too - well, we were staying at their home in Preston and she can keep up with the rest of us - so she was in.


Preston yes, it is the wrong side of the Pennines, but for a seasoned traveller like me - I felt reasonably well informed due to the life-long jibes, for what I was letting myself in for whilst taking a train over the boarder. Nothing too sinister to note, however the accent changed dramatically as soon as we headed out of Hebden Bridge towards Accrington, Burnley, Blackburn and Finally Preston. The more rounded tones caught my ear and I quite enjoyed listening to people talking on their mobile phones - More than usual anyway!


I arrived Saturday lunch, after a Friday night in Baildon celebrating Paddy's Day with adverse effects - ie EXACTLTY the same hangover as I get with Stella - Not good. Piercing, knee trembling, deafening sharp pains behind my right eye, and the feeling thet Geoff Capes had just swung a baseball pat round my head. Never mind - I had Jon waiting for me on the platform, looking to make sure he got the right girl this time, as he had previously followed a girl over the footbridge thinking she was me. I know, I know - Hard to believe that there would be someone even half as gorgeous as me - in Preston - On a saturday - Beggers belief!
It was great to see Jon, he has not changed, a little grey mallam streek is his only real age give away - still the same cheeky dimply grin, and bugger's grip side burns. We rushed to the car after getting some fags - I had the shock of my life purchasing the old Marlboroughs - £5.20 - Nearly as much as London Travelcard, which is a bloody rip off as well. I have not purchased a packed in the UK since I stopped back in June. I could not get over it - It is a good job I am on 5 a day - Honest Doctor, no I am, or else I would be freed of my megre wealth in a few months. I have to quit - I don't have to get fat though - price one must pay .


We skipped back to the car to find Jim and Jo snogging in the back seat - how sweet - Loves young dream. Jim is still 29 the little monkey - he's the baby of the gang.

Then all hell broke loose - To recreate the feeling for those college days a rather large bag was divided out and we all began to skin up - well, Jim is still a little tardy in this department and he probably managed to roll 3 in the 24 hour period we spent smoking the stuff.

Jo thanks for the food - you had it sorted right out - crisps, poppadoms and dips, lamb - yes lamb curry - My favourite and a meat we seem to overlook these days - Very tasty all done in a slow cooker - Mother are you reading this? Someone else my age has one of those things. That's Leanne Jo and me now - Wow I may have to start using mine if I ever take up ownership of it again - of the one you got me in a garage sale.


Wow - just remembered the cheesecake, which put 6lbs on me - honestly - I am detoxing on green tea and no bread right now - all for the sake of a rather large slice of Sainsbury's best. I felt really bad as I turned up empty handed - well, except for a very large bag of smoking material. I did not bring any flowers - the ones in the rain station were plastic - and that is worse than getting them from a garage forecourt. I took no wine. Sorry to my hosts - I am sure I mentioned it a few times in my pangs of guilt, I must start to become a better guest. Note to me.

I must say it was a great night, I want to have my own house back soon, I miss entertaining at home - it is such fun and I do like to get completely off it in the comfort of four familiar walls.
Jo went to the pub and came back with her friend Tracey very giggly and was soon drinking vodka lime and sodas like someone had just chopped down all the lime trees. We were just stoned basically - which was exactly the same as getting caned at uni - Jim and Jon were a double act and I injected the necessary put downs and mused much about my current situation ie - on being single, homeless and jobless!

I will just add a bit about my internet relationship which was supposed to culminate in a week of unadulterated pure sex, touring round the Dales and meeting of the grandparents...It is not to be as my beau has too much on at work... Watch this space though. There is an air of somethingness just floating round the corner - I am sure I will catch it this time round. Always the optimist - that's what you get with having my life I suppose!

Thanks again for a super weekend. I loved and am still indisbeliefe Jon managed another night on the cloud of a bed Jim has in the spare room - Why wasn't I invited?

Fractal Gorgeousness

This is a fractal. My Granddad introduced me to these the other day and I find them very interesting if you know anything about these let me know x

OKFrom Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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The word "fractal" has two related meanings. In colloquial usage, it denotes a shape that is recursively constructed or self-similar, that is, a shape that appears similar at all scales of magnification and is therefore often referred to as "infinitely complex". In mathematics a fractal is a geometric object that satisfies a specific technical condition, namely having a Hausdorff-Besicovitch dimension greater than its topological dimension. The term fractal was coined in 1975 by Benoît Mandelbrot, from the Latin fractus, meaning "broken" or "fractured". Looked them up this is a brief description:

Beautiful Snowy Pictures

As you can see the snow has fallen in Keighley. The first picture is of Hawkstone Towers, now a private house but up until recently a home for the elderly. In fact it is where my Great Grandma Edith Steele died aged 100 years 9 months. This picture was taken about 30 minutes after the snow fall started, and I took it stood on the back step of my Grandma's house. I was unlucky to miss the tractor driving past, but still think that it makes a good contrast being so brightly painted.

The second and third pictures are Cliffe Castle. A museum and gardens just 5 mins down the road from where I am right now. I love the blossom trees with the snow clinging to the branches, it will be interesting to see what they will look like with their pink fluffy blossoms adorning each branch.

The snow cleared after 3 days, however this weekend saw a blanket of white, crisp snow. It was lovely to walk in Baildon and see the fields bleached with the 4 inch coverage of the white stuff. Very refreshing to wander the fields, streams and stys, especially after a bottle of wine!

Even though I am not really supposed to be where I am right now, at least I am somewhere that inspires me to get out and snap away!

Yorkshire Again

Hello,
I am sat in my Granddad's office which resembles something Walter Mittey would have been proud of. It is quite difficult to actually get to the desk, as there is over 70 years worth of books and papers including newspapers never read dating back some 5 years! Granddad is the sort of person who does not throw anything away. He digs his heels in the ground if there is any suggestion of a clear out and simply will not take even junk mail to the dustbin.
However today has been somewhat of a challenge and triumph for me. Under strict orders from my Grandmother, who can not be here as she is otherwise engaged on a Lind-Dancing weekend in Lytham St Annes, I have been advised to get Granddad into gear and throw at least one bin-liner's worth of junk out today. So on this beautifully crisp Spring Sunday I have been tackling the kitchen cupboards. It is amaizing the stuff that is in the deepest crevices of the kitchen, which is Granddad's domain, as he is the only eligible cook in the house, well capable cook I suppose is the correct term. My Grandma can make boiled egg and soldiers - full stop. There are rumours she can do a shepherd's pie, but it's not something I have seen in the 31 years I have been dining here.
The amount of food I threw out under Granddad's strict supervision was enough to feed a small army, that's if they liked out of date buscuits, crisps, jam and the traditional British meat sauces. Mustard is a hot favourite, there were 6 jars destined for the rubbish. Mint sauce, mint jelly , mint leaves were also heading from the cobwebbed decorated shelves to the bin. Not even a New Zealander during lambing season could have shifted 7 jars of the stuff. Why does one need 10 jars of jam, ranging from damson, peach, plum to redcurrant? All opened at some point in time, dying to become aquanted with a freshly baked slice of bread.
It was not merely the amount of stuff that causes my Grandmother to fret to all family members at any given chance - no it's the sell by dates. Now for someone who grew up on war rashons it is heartbreaking to throw any food away, but cream crackers dated 1997 - Come on, who on earth would have wanted them, even if they were served with lashings of nectarine and prune jam? I had to be ruthless.
The only thing I could not get in the 3 bin bags full of foodstuffs were out of date crisps. I have a funny feeling for dinner we'll be tucking into a fine selection of Kettle crisps with various exotic flavours, all slightly crispless in texture.
I found teabags from 2001, whoch were dusted off and put back into the very far corner of what has been their home for the last 5 years. I now know they are there and will sleep in peace knowing of I am ever inclined to try orange flavoured green tea I don't have to pop to the nearest wholefood shop.
I also cleared the steps and paths of snow, as it is now icy having been there since Thursday, bleached the bathroom (an obsession of mine) and scrubbed the hallway floor. Hopefully that will end any preconceptions Grandma has when she returns like the Queen from a weekend at Balmoral, and stop her asking anything more of me. I am living under their roof until I sort my living arrangements out. This means many hours listening to various stimulating talks on winter walks, trips along the Leeds Liverpool canal or ailments, oh and the odd job.
Tomorrow I am cleaning the leaded windows. For the 3rd time in 8 months. This takes time, and guts. The ladders are steep and last time I did it I cut through the broadband cable - whilst multi tasking - cleaning the windows and pruning the climbing roses.

So Much to Say - So Little Time

Ok - I feel guilty - I have been too busy jetsetting and galavanting about the place to even give blogging a second thought. Mind you all my stars are telling me to write this week, so here I go.
I must say first and foremost how bloody cold is it in Yorkshire? I have been back since Tuesday night and have had to buy a jacket, and get my gran to sort out her old jumpers - just to stop my arms and bottom from going purple - It is so cold here - I cannot handle it.
Barcelona was not exactly tropical - But once the day got going one could wander around in a t-shirt - or camisetta to give it its Spanish name. OK I am gonna do a break down of the past week - I do not hink I have written for that long - well, not properly.

Friday 24th February - I was in Sitches, which is a little village about 45k's from BCN and is a known hang out for gay men, women too probably, but they did not interest me, hence I never noticed any lesbos. I went with Christina my mate from Spanish class, her mate from Wakefield, Yorks Rachael, her bloke Chris and 3 of their gay mates who are all trolly dollys for BA. It is ironic that I blogged about wanting a gay mate once I moved to SF - Then ended up in BCN and finding 3! Carlos was the only Spaniard - very well groomed, as they all were. His bloke Turnip (Paul) is from Maidstone, Kent and finally Ma Baker (Paul) from London, who was the mother figure, well, from what I could gather. Can I just say how lovely their eyebrows were? Amaizingly well plucked - some what expertly in my opinion, in fact I was a bit envious, I was bloody pleased that I had a go on my own brows with the old rusty tweezers I have managed to swirve past customs in 4 countries over the past 2 months. Put a girl to shame those gay guys, on the ball when it came to make up tips - Mind you, I do think Ma Baker's baby blue pashimina was a little OTT - for a Friday - Don't you think?

Just off for a fag...Excuse the pun

Ok - Where was I? Yeah, Sitches. We went for a lovely meal which ended with a large brandy and was only the beginning of a very merry evening of red wine and dancing. I was too drunk to take my make-up off when I got back to the villa, and that's a rarety these days - mind you I didn't bother last night - more on that later...

Christina and I took a long time to recover the next day, and ended up lounging around reading Hello, Ok and watching Coronation Street multi editions - I must say I quite enjoyed that part as I have not read any of that trash for a while, and as far as English TV goes, I cannot recal the last time I had the pleasure.

Saturday 25th Feb.

Back to Barcelona by train, whcih took 30 mis and was a scenic route - right along the edge of the Med. Siesta, face on then out with 2 mates from school, and my wonderful hosts Sarah and Jose. We went to a Gotic part of BCN to a place called Rubies. Which served up a nice burger and chips my mother would have found hard to match. Then Hotel Homm, for my second night of heavy drinking, this time Belvadeer vodka tonics (I know - that day has finally come when I ordered that weird mixer I always thought was reserved for grandmas and twats). I danced with a big guy for what seemed like a never ending version of Crazy In Love, I thought my heart was gonna come right out of my chest, I danced that hard. The guy was deffo a match for me, I grossly underestimated the staying power of a fatty, but with my boobs jiggling in his face, well, most Spaniards do find that their eyes are situated at roughly the same height of my mammories, especially when I am wearing heels, he managed to keep up with the serious ass shaking. Bed at 6am. Far too late for even Lancolm's Age Defying moisturiser to cope with. I needed a lot of sleep.

Sunday 26th Feb.

Out for an Itallian.

Monday 27th Feb.

I popped back to school to say farewell to my new buddies and my last cafe cortardo of the Spanish leg of my never ending holiday. Then took some rapid snaps of the city, bought Sarah a thank-you handbag, and ate my last Menu del dia, at a little spot I have had my eye on for a few weeks. Lovely food - 3 courses and a glass of vino tinto all for under 10 euros. Please do not get caught up in the Rambla's rip of tourist traps if you happen to visit BCN - Thre are so many cheap options if you dare venture off the usual places.

Tuesday 28th Feb.

Back to Blighty. I was pleased with my 33 euro one way ticket with EasyJet, however could not believe it when I had to pay 40 euros excess baggage! Can you believe that? I left SF with a weekend bag for Vancouver on Jan 15th and a mere month later I have accumilated enough luggage to warrant a fine at the airport. My toilet-bag weighed 2k's but even squashing that in with my hand luggage - of which the bloody handle snapped upon my arrival at Stanstead, could not stop the excess charge being implimented. I wish I could spell.

In duty free I treat myself to a bottle of Channel Mmms and was gob smacked at the price on that. I have always been fortunate enough to have my favourite scent bought for me by a man, not these days, I may have to revert back to the Old Spice for Women - Exclaimation - Boot's own. I cannot keep forking out for such luxuries especially as I am unemployed.

Back to Stanstead airport. It was snowing when the plane landed - not enough for them to turn round and take me back to BCN, which I would have liked, but enough to make me wish I had skis and my warm coat on, and enough to make me instantly hate the UK. I grabbed a double latte and headed for the train, whcih I had to take to Petterborough and then Leeds. I got in a bit of a stress as the caffeen went straight to my sweat glands and I started to sweat at the same time as being completley frozen bow-legged. There was an hour wait - so I rammed the trolley back up the 2 stories of the car park and proceeded to grab a very expensive sarni and read the paper. I had only got to page 15 when I was approached by an Indian fellow, who asked me if I wanted a coffee. Bloody cheek of it - I said I had paid nearly a year's salary (well, for some poor bastard in China) for a sarni and I was staying put until my train arrived - He said he was doing his job and I could not stay there all day. Who wants to sit in a Costa Coffee all friggin' day in an airport? I stood my ground and read right through to the sports section before legging it for my train. It was not all bad though - I somehow managed a 1st class seat, booking with trainline.com makes all the difference, so I was pampered all the way to Leeds.

Upon arrival in Leeds I struggled with the bags and through rush hour commuter traffic, got an other train to Keighley. Taxi from the station - in to the waiting arms of my beloved grandparents. And that's where I am now - Blogging from my granddad's office on a PC he has had for 5 years, and still has not managed to master interms of sending emails. Something I am sure I will get around to teaching him when I have a minute.

The update on the visa situation to grant me access to my wardrobe and life in San Francisco is that they cannot tell me if my papers have arrived from Canada, and they can give me an appoitment for an interview. However the interview will be terminated if the papers are not there - All a load of nonesense. I have emailed them and am waiting for a reply. If I get the B2 visa it will take approx 5 days - So I could be back in the States by the end of the month.

OK I am knackered, not funny and bored of talking about me - for a change so I bid you see thee - until next time.

x

PS It's started to snow here now - Bugger.

Just Sorting Out My CV

I am off back to Blighty in the morning and will be looking for a job until I get a visa. As it is about minus 10 degrees in Yorkshire I am opting for an office job - Back in the Printing world. My mate Mike just sent me this - It sums up the industry really!

Saturday Night In Barcelona

Ola. Buenas Noche.
Just thought I would let you know about my Saturday evening in Barcelona. I went to a party at Hotel Omm which is about as pretencious as it gets in Barca, well, you know the Armani clad bouncers, who all seemed to look like Antonio Banderas; the overpriced drinks; the leather poofs (not gay men sillys, the foot rests).
I had been invited by the promotor - just to add to the pretenciousness, who I met in a bar when out with Heather and Sarah a few weeks ago. He is called Jerman. I call him Alleman which is Spanish for German - all a bit confusing, especially after a few vodka con limons. OK I will stop with the Spanish as most of my readers can not understand English too well, hence the sudden influx of pictures - Bit like reading the Sunday papers really - you can flick through and take a gander at all my scrummy pics. I have added this one for you so u can slag off my red bra. I have only 3 bras on me as you all know my clothes are in another continent right now. Well, at least my jewelry matches. It was taken just before I went out at midnight on Sat.
I have had the pleasure of meeting a Northern Lass who is originally from the Wirral, but has been in NYC designing acessories for the past 10 years so she came round for dinner - Cauliflower Surprise. Can not give more than that away, thus ruining the surprise, but if you did ever get lucky enough to sample some, I am sure you'd love it. Mam, ta for t' recipe. Few roast spuds too, need a bit of substance when one is about to embark on serious measures of alcohol in the old bebidas - sorry drinks. Oh these lessons are really paying off.
In fact I spoke Spanish all night on Sat - everyone knows my occupation, where I am from, where I want to live and my mother's brother's children's names - simply cousins I know, but one must maximise one's vocab skills. Talking of which I must gt on and do my homework, instead of maulding round the house all day. It's a shame I only know the the present tense, a few irregular verbs and the reflexive verbs - by the way that means you do it to your self - Mastabatarse, can you guess that one? Always COMES in HANDY!
Dancing was the order of the evening, it did sem like a bit of a school disco upon 1st inspection but as I became more inhibriated I could see the sense in dancing like summat not quite right for the rest of the evening. Still suffering a bit from the old ski muscle injuries, however after a few leg kicks they began to warm up a bit.
Lots of demin I noticed, not much dressing up here - I am beginning to think it is only girls from Leeds, Newcastle and Kent who dress like they are off to a gay wedding ceremony that's being held in Ibiza. Really I am serious, us Brits do not seem to wear very much and it was commented on by a Swiss pal of mine from class. I miss that though, it's good to flaunt some flesh and try & match some bikini top with the shortest skirt off the rack. I think boys like it better too- Why wouldn't they wanna see a bit of snatch when they are out for a good time on a Saturday? Yes, jeans are big here, so are very strange dread lock mullets. I have not been home for a while and really do hope that this fashion has been religated to the great fashion disaster record books, come on boys - you are nothing like a footy player - Grow up. Nah, it's actually the women who sport these weird doidges (as I would say) they involve a fringe that looks like something someone, with no fingers and a machettie would achieve if one was daft enough to walk in to a salon employing the physically imparred and ask for a mullet. I need to think of a word for this new doidge. Bullet is the right description for a bald head with long bits grasping on for dear life down the neck - Bald-Mullet right? But this outragous crime to OTHER PEOPLE'S vision is a serious misdemeanour, some sort of law needs to be written preventing such fashion disasters. I mean we are the one's looking it it - No one go's round with a mirror constantly glued to once face - well, apart from Kate Moss - No, sorry she's all reformed and that - whoops forgot.
I need to think of a name, I need to go and have a cig to calm me down and try and come up with something...Hang on...Back in 10 drags...
Got it. A Dred-it, that'll do - I dread to think of any respectible hardresser putting their fine skills to such a do, but it's happening right here in Barca.
I must go and do my homework now - Less of the delay tacticts.
I am home in the UK on the 28th Feb for anyone who gives a damn. Oh, I my new boyfriend will be flyng accross the pond at the end of March. I am so looking forward to meeting him at last! Crazy.

More Vancouver Pics - Sorry It IS Gorgeous Though!