This bank holiday I...

1. Went to the anti-coagulant clinic every day

As I mentioned in my post on Friday, my INR reading had gone down, i.e. not the right direction. This has meant my warfarin dosage has been bumped up and a visit every day to keep an eye on it. I am also now injecting myself with Fragmin, a fast-acting anti-coagulant, in an attempt to thin my blood out more quickly. Injecting myself was a quite frankly terrifying prospect but it's not a big deal anymore, I just have to grab a load of fat on my stomach (I knew there had to be a good reason for me being overweight!) and stick the needle in. It doesn't hurt too much, just a little scratch and I feel very brave when I do it.

At the time of posting my INR is stuck resolutely at 1.7 and has been for the past 3 days. It just doesn't seem to be onboard with the whole concept of thinning out. I'm now taking 10mg of warfarin, which is a pretty hefty dose, and injecting the fragmin every day. I'm back at the clinic on Friday afternoon so fingers crossed there'll be a 2 on the machine!

2. Went to a barbeque.

We were undeterred by the rubbish weather because we are hard. BBQs suck when you're on Weightwatchers because there are way too many points on offer. It is very annoying. But I did my best and had quite a bit of the sweetcorn because that's all good. It was also one of the first times I was surrounded by drunk people and not being one of them. It was strange. And annoying.

3. Attended a stitch-a-thon.

One of our Stitch & Bitch group is off to Ghana for a couple of weeks in August to a charity she worked with before. They are currently trying to raise funds to buy a landrover to get between villages and we held an all day stitch in at a cafe in Hull. We had a little bucket and told friends and family and people came and stuck change in our bucket and admired our stitchery activities and we managed to raise £115. Not a bad day considering we basically wanted an excuse to sit about and stitch all day. I managed to start and finish this piece for the exhibition at the end of the month.
4. Did some crocheting.

Oooh what does that picture look like? Does it look like I've joined all my squares together? Oh hell yes. I managed to join all my squares together after a lot of dramatics and eye-rolling and squeals of temper. Now there is just the edging to do (no idea what I'm doing with that) and it is finished. Can't quite believe it.

5. Revelled in getting an extra day off

Although I generally think of work as something which gets in the way of doing the things I really want to do, I have to admit that sometimes it has its benefits. One of those being that we get an extra 3 days holiday a year for free - usually the Tuesday after the last bank holiday in May, the Tuesday after the August bank holiday and a day at Christmas. I didn't do much with today, especially as it's rained all freaking day but any day at home is better than a day at work.

6. Picked up two visitors
Mum is off to stay with my sister for a few days so we have taken delivery of Fred and Lily. So far they have mainly slept. I keep going in to the bedroom and fussing and poking them but they've been resolutely boring. This is why they bug us at 3am - they sleep all frickin' day.

7. Got my bake on
Haven't baked since starting Weightwatchers because the thought of finding out how many points were in the stuff I was making made my brain bleed a little bit. However, the WW website has some recipes and today I made banana and Malteser muffins. Only 4 points each, thus eliminating the guilt out of eating something 'bad'. I will be rewarding myself with one tonight because I just found out I've lost another 2.5 pounds (meaning there's officially 10.5lbs less of me than there was 3 weeks ago).

The lights are on but nobody's home...

...because I'm guest posting over at *Insert My Blog Name Here* for the lovely P!

Do you enjoy having people over to stay with you?

Would you like to know how to be a good host?

Then go HERE to read my guide to find out what not to do...

Happy Friday!

Running away to the south

There were a few purposes to this weekend;

1. See my cousin and reconnect after a ridiculously long time apart
2. See some old friends
3. Have fun
4. Running away

All 4 outcomes were successfully achieved. If they were written on a list I would have ticked them all off and I’d be feeling a warm glow of satisfaction. (I kind of now wish I had actually written a list. Is it ok to write and list post-event?)

I know running away doesn’t solve anything and you have to face your problems sooner or later but sometimes you can over-think issues and I am most definitely bordering on that at the moment. Sometimes you have to just remove yourself completely from a situation just to give your brain a rest and that was most definitely accomplished.

It would be boring to recount the whole weekend’s activities and there aren’t many photos I can show you. I mean there were plenty of photos taken but very few blog appropriate ones :)

At times like this you need a list to briefly and snappily run through things so here we go:

Friday
- Picked up from train station by cousin, made lovely meal, sit down to have nice civilised meal with cousin, one of her housemates and other friend. A polite game of Cranium is mentioned.
- Someone else mentions going to the pub down the road for a couple of drinks
- 4 bottles of wine at the pub later we roll back down to the house, causing minor disruption to the incredibly sleepy village of Coombeinteignhead. (Apologies to any residents who may come across this blog in the future. Especially the guy whose Landrover the other girls tried to climb on whilst I took photos.)
- Somehow end up with the 19 year old barman back at the house (who clearly thought his luck was in with 4 drunk older women. You have to admire him for trying.)
- Break table, trying to dance on it
- Kick barman out after having made him strip down to his boxers (don’t ask why)
- Get to bed about 4.30/5.00am

Saturday
- Wake up at 8.30 feeling surprisingly chipper, get up and get changed, feeling full of the joys of spring
- Retrace steps back to the pub to try and find my phone which had mysteriously disappeared
- Realise that I was still drunk and slowly sink into the hangover from hell in front of Saturday Kitchen.
- Have cup of tea and feel spirits rallying
- Find phone behind cushion. Have no idea why I wouldn’t have looked there in the first place, a clear indication of the effects of excessive alcohol on the brain.
- Discover that we somehow managed to get through 10 bottles of wine amongst the 4 of us.
- Ponder why we aren’t all in acute liver failure.
- Get ourselves to Paignton Zoo at lunchtime, looking and behaving like two Witches of Eastwick, hissing at all children who made too much noise or got in our way (we’re normally very nice girls)
- Laugh at the lemurs, stroke some goats and decide that the baboons are our favourites.

- Powernap back at home
- Dinner at Coombe Cellars which was so beautiful I couldn’t even capture it properly in a photograph, although I kept trying.

Sunday
- Back to Coombe Cellars to meet up with an old friend of mine plus husband, plus child.
- Lament the fact that we only have an hour before I have to catch my stupid train back home.
- Laugh and coo over friend’s child (see, told you I was a nice girl normally, just not with a hangover)
- Dash to Newton Abbot train station to begin epic journey back to Hull involving 3 trains and a bus. Ridiculous.
- Realise I’ve got a grand total of about 8 hours sleep over the weekend and will most likely die at work on Monday.

So in summary:

Laughing so much you choke + many bottles of wine + zoo + good friends = Quality Weekend

Did reality hit me like a sucker punch to the gut when I came home? It certainly did. But with this many things to reminisce about I can put off thinking about things for a while longer yet.

Facing the fear

One of my greatest fears in life is public nakedness.

I’ve told you all about this before, remember? (It was back when The Curious Cat was my only commenter, bless her heart for sticking with me for so long.)

This weekend in Center Parcs I came, literally, face to face with that fear.

One of the great things about the Sherwood Forest site is the Aqua Sana spa where, for £40 you can spend 3 hours in a state of almost catatonic relaxation as you wander in and out of Japanese sea salt rooms and saunas and Indian blossom steam rooms and aqua meditation rooms and tepidariums....you get my drift?

It is marvellous (or acesome, if you wish to use my amazing new word) and well worth the money.

We were booked in at 3pm on Sunday afternoon and I’d spent the weekend looking forward to it. I told my boyfriend I’d see him on the other side and we disappeared into her respective changing rooms.

And that was when it happened.

Full frontal nudity right in front of my face before the door had even closed.

It did not put me into a state of relaxation.

It also didn’t help that the changing rooms were some kind of labyrinthine, wooden-lockered nightmare and every corner I turned brought me face to face with more naked flesh. Getting changed wasn’t an issue, I’d come prepared with swimming costume under my clothes so everything was whipped off and shoved into a locker and I bolted for the sanctity of the spa.

I tried not to let it prey on my mind as I concentrated on feeling like a lotus flower, gently floating on a summer’s breeze.

But I kept getting flashbacks to images of pubic hair.

Three hours later, I returned back to that room of hell. It was now busier. Great.

I looked up and saw that there was indeed a private changing room. I could use that! Except I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to admit to this room of naked strangers that I really had a problem being a naked stranger too. Maybe it’s because I know I shouldn’t be bothered by it, maybe it’s because I have an extreme narcissus complex and assume that everyone’s going to be noticing what it is I’m doing, who knows.

“Get a grip” I said to myself, “You’re almost 27. Time to stop being embarrassed.” Also I figured that because I wasn’t showering (no I’m not horrendously filthy, I’d just decided to shower back at the lodge) I didn’t have the complication of drying whilst trying not to reveal yourself.

Repeating the mantra “No-one’s looking. No-one’s looking.” to myself I got all my clothes out of my bag.

I lined them up neatly.

I checked my phone to see if there were any interesting messages I had received.

I made sure my socks were turned the right way out.

I went over to the mirror to see what my hair looked like. (crap, if you were interested)

I did everything I possibly could to avoid actually taking my clothes off.

Then I had a brainwave. Knickers were easy to do! The spa provides you with a lovely white towelling robe which I still had on. It would be easy peasy lemon squeezy to just whip off the bottoms of the tankini and replace them with pants. GO GO GO.

Mission accomplished. I had pants on. And then trousers. I was half way there.

There was nothing I could do to hide the boobagement though. It had to be done. Off with the towelling robe young lady.

I still wanted to dither though. I had another quick check of the bag to see if the answer to my prayers was somewhere in there.

As I dithered a young girl came in to the changing room to get ready for her spa session. In a manner of seconds she had whipped off her clothes and put on a bikini without seemingly displaying anything. I decided this was to be the new mantra, “Quick like a cat, quick like a cat.”

The tankini was undone, the bra was picked up, I was almost there!

Oh no! The catch wouldn’t catch! “Come on come on come on” I silently prayed as the hooks point blank refused to get into place. It was at this point that I realised I was holding my breath and would need to sort this situation out quickly before I became a passed out half naked stranger on the changing room floor.

Finally the clasp was done. I was officially covered.


When the boyfriend came out of the changing rooms I looked about and conspiratorially turned to him. “Guess what?” I whispered, “I’M WEARING UNDERWEAR” I announced to some probably rather freaked out passersby.

I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of myself and this trip will be remembered as the time I was brave enough to show strangers my boobs (without the consumption of many glasses of alcohol and the promise of sex). The next stage is to try and get to the point where I don’t nearly give myself an aneurism doing it.

I’m still a long way off the ladies who were stood, completely naked, drying their hair and talking to their friends who were also stood completely naked. And do you know what? I’m quite happy to not reach that point for some time to come. If ever. No need ladies, no need.

A short break

So the boyfriend and I escaped this weekend and ran away to Sherwood Forest to pretend we were Robin Hood and Maid Marion.

Or....

We went to Center Parcs.

A couple of months ago I had some kind of brain seizure and decided we should book a weekend away at Center Parcs. I'm not entirely sure what came over me because god knows it's not the cheap option and I really don't have the money but ultimately I'm beyond glad that I did. It turns out it was perfect timing and really came at a time when we could do with just getting away and having some time to ourselves.

Now I am Miss City Girl, I've only ever lived in big cities and even then I've not lived on the suburbs of those cities, I've lived on main roads, slap bang in the middle of the action. This means that I have a tendendcy to get over-excited when it comes to nature. Whilst I can't imagine ever living in the country, the petrol fumes are too well ingrained in my body for that, I do enjoy a bit of countryside action in short bursts.

We arrived at our apartment on Friday afternoon to be greeted by 3 mallards hanging out on the patio. Now granted, I see mallards all the time when I walk past Queens Gardens on the way too and from work each day, but these babies were close. Real close. So, leaving the boyfriend to finish unpacking the car I ripped open the bread we'd brought with us and flinging open the door, started throwing bits of bread to the quackers, all the while doing an excited, impish, I-love-nature dance. (I like to picture it as 'impish' and not 'retarded')

Duck feeding over I closed the door and started unpacking, only to hear a tap tap tap on the window. I turned round and discovered one aspect of nature I do not enjoy.

Geese.

I hate geese. They're mental and I've never got over the fact that one of them bit me when I was a wee thing on a visit to East Park to feed the ducks. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.

Damn goose.

Luckily they never made a reappearance and soon I had the ducks eating out of my hand. Literally.

The weekend was in a word, acesome. Yes I have decided to create a new word. I needed something better than awesome, mainly because I'm convinced there are certain words that English people cannot pull off, awesome being one of them. Sometimes things just sound cooler in an American accent. So acesome I can pull off. You know, it's ace and awesome, all in one. Acesome.

(You see, this is what happens when I spend too long in that fresh country air, I need to come back and inhale some unleaded.)

We went down the rapids, we played in the waves at the swimming pool, we went out for a meal, we spent time in the spa, we laughed and danced and frolicked in the woods.

Ok maybe we didn't do the last one.

But we did do falconry which was possibly the acesomest (see how versatile it is?!) decision we ever made. I figured we'd see a few birds, maybe stroke a barn owl and that would be that. But there was more. Much more.

I held.....

A golden eagle.

Seriously. How cool am I? (And yes that is me in the photo, exciting times for the blog, the back of my head has been revealed!) I know I just went up in your estimation by about a thousand. I should be able to tell you lots of interesting facts about the golden eagle but unfortunately I wasn't listening hard enough to Darren the falcon man and spending more time looking at her enormous beak and claws and quite frankly terrifying wing span. I can tell you that golden eagle's are ridiculously heavy. Ok they're like 9lbs but when that's sitting on the end of your outstretched arm, you can't half feel it. So much so that Darren had to hold underneath your hand to keep it straight. (I also held a barn owl, a kestrel, a harris hawk, a buzzard and a vulture but I won't bore you with those)

But the thing I loved the most about the break?

I made friends with a squirrel.

He only had half a tail and at first I felt sorry for him but I didn't need to because he was more than capable of looking after himself. And he was a brave little chappy. So brave he decided that he'd be find coming up to me and letting me give him his peanuts. By this morning he was happy to come in and climb on to my knee and take them from me.

Yes I know he was probably diseased and riddled with fleas but I'm not listening la-la-la-la-la-la.

I was, in short, very sad to come home. Very sad. I didn't realise how much I was enjoying myself until it was time for it all to end.

So yeah it might have been more money than I could afford to spend but it was worth every single penny.

Don't make me go to work tomorrow.

Having fun in London Town - Part 2 - New Years Eve

Having now pretty much caught up on all your blogs (still a few more to go!) I think I share the same sentiment as a few of you....new year's eve kinda tends to suck.

I guess it's the hype. It happens all the time, the night's that you really look forward to end up being pretty disappointing, it's always the spur of the moment ones that end up being the greatest.

I can think of one really good new years's night that I've had, which is more than a little bit lame I realise. Last year the boyfriend and I didn't bother at all and when the opportunity arose to have a house to ourselves we decided to have a quiet night in.

I was hoping that this year would be pretty special, we would be in London, the Americans would be there, I was expecting big things. And there was talk of parties galore so I was a little disappointed at first when it was decided that we'd be having a party in with just 6 people - me, the boyfriend, The Americans, and the Americans host and girlfriend.

But then I figured, I've been that let down by new year's eve in the past that this couldn't be any worse could it?

It was excellent.

The boyfriend and I were freed from our host...

HOW TO BE A GOOD HOST LESSON NUMBER 3: Offer your guests food and water. Occasionally. And give them toilet paper.

...And came to stay with The Americans' host so we no longer had to worry about getting home.

We somehow ended up getting enough wine for twice as many people as were there which we soon made a start on and, accompanied by nibbles and music, we got down to business. Many topics were covered, including politics, sex and Facebook.

Then twister came out.

You can't play twister when you're an adult, your body just doesn't bend in the right way. Or in my case, any way. Either way it provided many laughs until, with midnight approaching, we turned on Jools Holland, mandatory new year's eve viewing.

We celebrated the new year with champagne and sitting out on the teeny balcony, yelling happy new year at people as they walked past.

And then.

It started to snow.

And still we sat out there.

Yelling and whooping.

Then things took a slightly mental turn when we went back inside and started dancing like mental people to the rest of Jools Holland and then Daft Punk. We learnt dance moves to wow people in the future, broke 2 glasses, knocked the lampshade off the main light, went to a damsel in distress who was abandonned after having an argument with her boyfriend (some people didn't have that much of a happy new year), went out for a new year kebab and then took ourselves to bed at 4am.

All in all. A job well done.

The boyfriend and I rose at 11am and made our bleary-eyed way to Kings Cross and crawled onto a train back to Hull.

And I started recounting all of this to you. Bored yet?

Just the one more post and it will be short and sweet and I'll show you what I bought at the Marmite shop...

The Holiday: The Scenery's Side of the Story

Because apparently a picture paints a thousand words...

The Holiday: The Girl's Side of the Story

Once upon a time there was a girl who went on holiday with her boyfriend. But not just her boyfriend. 12 other people came along as well, mainly members of the boyfriend's family.

The troop ranged in age from 3 to 90 and their first battle was with the check-in desk. Never try and check in with 9 people at the same time - you will annoy yourself and everyone around you as they try to clamber over your bodies and bags. The Girl retreated to a safe distance until the danger had passed.

When they got to France they drove through the countryside, while the sun was setting and arrived at their final destination. The Girl, too tired to look about properly collapsed into bed and promptly fell asleep, awakening to the sun streaming in through the window and the realisation that this was her chateau (for a week anyway).

The Girl's days over the week followed a fairly similar pattern. Get up, eat, read by the pool, swim in the pool, perfect her bombing technique in the pool, read, eat, read, lie out in the shade, usually beneath a tree (and read), shower, eat, drink, read and sleep.

The Girl did haves some adventures along the way. She swam in the river (La Gironde if you like your geography) - there was a gentle current that drifted you downstream, she didn't need to make much effort, just lie back and float, staring up at the cloudless blue sky.

She also ventured further afield and took her first ever trip to a water park, Aqualand. Never had she seen such delights, water slides galore of every shape and size, and also such sights - Aqualand was where speedos came to die.

The Girl decided she would go on an innocent looking slide - "it's just got a few bumps on it" she thought to herself. Off she went, "Wheeeeeeee!!!!" and hit the water at the bottom with such force that she gave herself the biggest wedgie known to man. She learnt a new skill that day - how to quickly get out of very shallow water whilst retrieving your tankini bottoms from out of her behind. She went on it a couple of times but realised her dignity couldn't hold out much longer so she gracefully retired.

The Girl also made a cat friend. She likes to find a cat on each of her holidays. When she went to America she made friends with Pool Cat, a big fluffy beast who would come and join her by the pool at all times of the day. This holiday was no exception and she made friends with Lily. Lily was not just an ordinary cat, Lily was Mr Lily. The family thought they were getting a pretty girl but in fact had a very handsome boy. However the name stuck and Mr Lily doesn't seem to mind having a girl's name.

What The Girl had feared most was whether she could spend that much time with her boyfriend's family, or indeed that much time with her boyfriend.

Her fears were (mostly) unfounded. There were times when it seemed as if the world would never be quiet agani but The Girl learnt to just take herself away at those times. People would just have to deal with the absence of her presence. She also bowed out a mass shopping trip to the supermarket - the thought of 3 cars full of them traipsing up the aisles brought her out in a cold sweat. So she waved her boyfriend off - "I won't be long" he called out. She smiled a wry smile - "We'll see" She said to herself.

They returned 3 hours later...

However the one person she never got tired of being around was her boyfriend. And what's all that really matters doesn't it?

Well that and getting a tan.

I do want to post about the holiday....

...but this is what the ironing basket looks like right now

Blogging services will be resumed shortly...

The Holiday: Happy Bear's Side of the Story

We arrived back from France late on Sunday night but my feet haven't touched the floor yet so the blog has had to wait.

Until now...

The youngest member of our tribe was given Happy Bear by her nursery to take on holiday. The idea being that we took photos of him to be put in a diary, charting his holiday.

I haven't had a chance to get my thoughts together yet to write an entry about the holiday so I figured that until then Happy Bear's story would do...

Happy Bear arrived in Bordeaux airport in the early evening and hung about guarding the luggage while the big people sorted out the car hire...

Happy Bear had a pretty relaxing holiday.

He swam in the pool...

He sunbathed (being sure to put his suncream on)...

And when it was too hot he read in the shade...

...or looked at the view out of the upstairs sitting room window...

Happy Bear by name, Happy Bear by nature.

Au revoir!

Passports? Check

Bags all packed? Check

Lists all ticked off? Check

House nice and clean for when we come back? Check

(Boyfriend who doesn't understand why the house has to be clean when we're going to be away? Check)

Excitement growing? Check

SEE YOU IN A WEEK!

Best holiday ever. A story in photos.

Just over a year ago I went on the best holiday in the world. Ever.

I went to America. Arizona to be precise, to see my best friend who lives over there. She couldn't get any further away from me if she tried but I don't hold it against her, it's not her fault she's American.

Off I went on my grand adventure for two whole weeks and had such a great time that I've never been able to put it into words.

I still can't so I've decided to use the medium of photography to show you some of the highlights....

My first time ever seeing a real life cactus. They are all over the place and some of them are pretty damn huge. This photo was taken from a moving car as we journeyed from Phoenix to Vegas to gamble away our lives (unless you're me and you daren't go on anything other than slot machines). I was also informed that Arizona is the only place these cacti grow, although this is yet to be proved...

The Hoover Dam - also seen on the way to Vegas. It's MASSIVE and when you look over the side you feel quite sick.

VEGAS!! I did want to get a cool photo of the fountains at the Bellagio but my camera failed that night. Instead here is a picture of the beasty lion outside the MGM casino. You have no idea how big those casinos are. You walk in and it. is. loud. Bells ringing, people shouting, lights flashing - it's almost too much to take in and it's way too easy to get lost in them. Plus you lose all sense of what time of day it is - they are busy at 4am as they are at 4pm. It's bizarre.

The Grand Canyon. We visited on the way back from Vegas. It is very grand. And very busy. But I have to admit I was a little underwhelmed. And also quite scared because I'm quite tall and barriers aren't as high as I would like them. I have a photo of me with the Canyon in the background and my knuckles are white from where I was gripping on to the rail. As we were leaving we saw a runaway dog with some people chasing after it and I've always wondered if they caught him...

Chinese takeaway!! In boxes!! (Except in America-land they call it takeOUT) This was on my list of Things-I-Must-Do-In-America. You always see them on Friends and Sex and the City and every other movie, eating their takeaway out of those boxes and it's always been a huge bugbear of mine that we don't have ours like that.

The weather was amazing. Pure blue skies. And palm trees. And orange trees! And I could enjoy them all while I lazed by the pool in my friend's apartment complex. All the Americans thought I was mad because I got in the pool to cool off. It wasn't summer for them yet but I was practically melting.

And finally, I went to a real-life baseball game. It was fun although it took me pretty much the entire innings to figure out what was going on and how it worked. I wanted to buy a cookie off one of the men walking up and down the aisles but I was too scared to shout out.

There are many other photos which are highlights of my holiday over there but they are not necessarily suitable for publishing on the blog! There are also some things that happened that can't be captured by a photograph. Other highlights included...

1. Getting matching manicures and pedicures. My feet have never looked so good.

2. Getting to eat at a Wendys and an IHOP (that's International House of Pancakes for those of you not in the know)

3. Discovering goldfish crackers.

4. Laughing at lorries on the road which are MASSIVE

5. Discovering Target

6. Pole dancing lessons in Vegas

7. Buying Bride hats from Target for a dollar

8. Making friends with an enormous cat who became my pool buddy.
9. Standing on stage on a bar down Mill Ave, singing YMCA with a stars and stripes hat on

10. The exchange rate!! And having to buy another suitcase to fit in all my news clothes to come back home.

Happy times indeed...