20 May 2006

my heart's in the highlands

i am leaving for the highlands in a minute.

high on my list are visting culloden (of blood and gore mel gibson in skirt fame) and the castle from highlander.

scotland kicks ass. especially when i have a car.

17 May 2006

have i finally converted to british?

i just got home from the pub (well, "tavern") where i stood around rubbing shoulders with a bunch of broguish musky men watching the champions league match; arsenal v. barcelona.

now i have always thought barcelona was an exceedingly sexy city, indeed, one of those exotic type places too cool even for tourists. but if their slackjawed nancy-boy forward is anything to go by, may i never set foot in spain.

but still. i swore, drank miller, and all in all almost felt like it was a november saturday but for the weird offside rule. its a shame football is so lame, but i've still signed up for the world cup pool at work. it may kill me, but i'l try goddamnit.



that said, i had a most excellent day.

speeddater visited me at work (to lend me equilibrium. yum.) where he was drooled over by co-workers (i love a good tease).

then got a text from hot scot, who has now finished novel three and is ready to party.

and rounded out the evening with a few sexy footballers and some chips and cheese with brown sauce.

15 May 2006

i need a break from holidays

i hate planning vacations.

i love reading up and thinking of my endless options and imagining life without the daily mundane. but the whole choosing and handling is so bloody boring.

granted, i learned my lesson with the VWbug-in-a-corn-field-due-to-jet-ski-show-cost-me-$1000-in-damages-fucking-black-ice scenario in college, reservations are worth the pain. carpe diem isn't for everything. but still.

i'm trying to cram three seperate trips into under a week and the logistics are making all dreams of road trip journals and seascapes flee my sore head.


so, maybe i didn't tell you - my dad is coming...but on a golf tour with all his middle aged dentist friends (he is nothing if not stereotypical).

so, i am taking this weekend to meet up with them at their fancy hotel in the highlands for a weekend of wandering days followed by pampered nights where people with six digit salaries foot the bill.

but, since i was up there anyway, and dad said he'd rent a car for me, i figured i'd strike out into the wilderness for a few days on my own. which has now turned into me and liam on a yet to be determined holiday. i am glad we'll have some time and space but slightly anxious at what if any questions will be answered along the way. it should be fabulous. and another brilliant chapter in my memoirs of ridiculous impossible things i let happen to me.

but then, i really want to see dad. so after his friends leave the following weekend he and i are going to the isle of arran. which means i need to be back, ditch the car, get down south again, find him, and get us to an island with a population of 1100 (i hear there are more bottles of whisky than people there), then get us back here in under two days so he can fly home all tuckered out.

i know it will be good. i am dying to get away.

but i am just now realizing exactly how much i took on with this. (now being 3 hours into reservations, phone calls, and general madness with my nose in a lonely planet)

i know my tendency to plan, mother, and over analyze gets me into trouble. i can deal with that. but just once i'd like it to not interfere with my social life.
there should so be an off button for that kind of thing.

13 May 2006

sometimes part-time is best

i believe i may have prefected the random friend.

we only see each other every three months but we fall in like we bantered just yesterday, speed-dater and i.

it's like having a penpal, but in person.

someone you have a fleeting moment with, where anything is game from pop culture whims to confessional type memoirs. where it can all be true, since it'll have no bearing on your tomorrow.

today's menu was my adoption story to his paedophile teacher, but only after we agreed futurama is better television, but family guy is still funny.

and three hours later (full of haggis stuffed chicken and banoffee pie), knowing it'll be august before we do it again, we part ways in the sunshine.

10 May 2006

patty duke on line 1

yes dear, i am fine.

just bemused and constantly surprised at my middle school mentality. he said, she said, what did that mean?

you would think, for all my modern views, my one night stands, my harmless flirtations, my masculine mannerisms and perfected girlish laugh i'd be beyond these simple urges. i know the game, i know i don't want to play by them, and i still get sucked in every round.

we have always known i have low to no self control, but i find it shocking i get thrown back into archaic expectations and down right silly conventions when i let myself actually feel something.

it's not important, i won't get into the whole sordid affair (a turn of phrase more than a literal act), either it'll sort itself out and i'll gush or it won't and i'll become flippant and move on.

suffice to say, i've found a new one to obsess over. and not in a nickname and casual flirt, but kind of actually care (and more importantly want him. for keeps maybe even.) and it fucking freaks me out (and pisses me off just a little). and i keep saying i don't. that i won't fall for this. won't be one of those girls who waits. who worries. who doubts and denies and follows.

but for all my dithering in the end i still want him to call.

well, and then throw me on the bed and fuck me senseless.


is that so much to ask?

08 May 2006

does not compute

i have often, though not in these pages perhaps as regularly as elsewhere, referred to my silent scream. the unheard voice and ignored plea of my deepest darkest self. wordlessly raw and often violent.

but it is not her that plagues me today.

it is, if anything, more of a screaming silence. no, that doesn't fit. a deafening blinding quiet. a heavy Nothing.

an aching weight whose only relief is expression, and i am at a loss for words.

i don't want to talk about it or write about it or even really think in traditional terms, but i know of no other way to cope than words.

and i find they are insufficient.

his thoughts kept him from feeling. winterson may have been writing about atlas, but she got it right.

i don't know how to process this.

06 May 2006

epiphany of the day: the lucky shirt

while standing in the shower this afternoon, i realized a very important thing about myself.

fact:
with 50% (1) of the men (2) i have hooked up with (3) in the last year (4) i was wearing the same shirt.

where:
(1) 50% as in 5 out of 10
(2) i use the term loosely though their equipment defines them as masculine anatomically
(3) as in anything beyond second base (i know. but you come up with a better system then)
(4) 16 months but poetic licence is never more applicable when considering past partners

conclusion:
either the low neck navy polo was built for my tits or i desperately need a new wardrobe.

01 May 2006

May Day mayday.

so beltane is amazing. and retarded. and possibly unhealthy. and yet, i'll always go and always kind of love it. contemporary pagan fertility rites are worth it.

not only is there traditional king stag-may queen orgytastic fun, there are giant penes (yes, like theses is the plural of thesis) and burning effigies and lots of naked pagans (who are really just bongo-hippies with less clothes and more fire) in red body paint who harass Neds.

best of all, in my version there is a flask of whiskey and pyromania. it was brilliant.

well, the part i remember. of course, after the bonfire and cigarettes i kind of have no recollection - especially the precarious climb down calton hill in the dark - and am hoping had i partaken (partook? partakEd?) in the orgiastic revelry it'd be more memorable.

but sadly, we can't all have pagan hippies with flaming swords.