Well, it's that time of year again. My birthday. Soon coming to a retirement village near you. Okay, so I'm not THAT old, but I always get the pre-birthday jitters. Mainly, my weak point, as with many of us, is self examination.
Now, get your minds out of the gutters. I'm talking about the kind of mental anguish we cause ourselves each year when our birthdays roll around thinking 'God damn! What the hell have I done with my life?' I suppose this year more than ever I am having a huge case of the pre-birthday jitters.
It's no huge secret I am lazy. If lazy was an Olympic sport (which let's face it would be rather a contradiction) I would be a gold medal winner. I would also win the procrastination events (don't worry T, you'd at least win silver) and clean up in the neurotic self obsessive events (now that Woody Allen is in semi retirement). So here I sit, in a public library in Scotland, which my mind paradoxically calls the other side of the world and home, wondering what it is I have acheived with my life and more to the point why the hell do I care so much?
What is it about our lives we try to justify, quantify and often amplify to prove to those around us, simply, we are better than they are? Because when you boil it down to its little self obsessed pieces what is status, acheivement and merit other than a big pissing contest? Have I acheived a zen like nirvana of nothingness simply because I am too lazy and unmotivated to brag about anything? Am I the doyen of uber-cool simply by default because I struggle to wake up in the (late) morning?
I have one goal for this year. Definition. I have sold up, moved away from all that was supposedly dear to me and have transplanted myself to Scotland. Why the need for change and what the hell do I expect to acheive? Definition, that's what I expect.
I am living proof if you fail to plan, you plan to fail. So, here is my plan. I am off to 'find myself'. The ultimate in self obsessive wankiness? Probably. What I really need to do? Definately.
P.S. If you do happen to find me, forgive me a little but love me a lot. I am a lost soul.
It has been brought to my attention the most affective defense against midgies and mosquitos is, wait for it... Avon Skin so Soft. I have been recommended to use this product on several occasions and from some very surprising sources. From the old guys in the pub I work in to a random taxi driver whom I suspect may have been on the Avon pay role when he produced a bottle of the magic in a bottle and told me to buy some.. buy some now! I suppose it's one way to drum up a bit of extra business...
I need this because I am planning to do a little touring up the West Coast of Scotland, known to Midgies as one huge restruant and my blood seems to be the equivelent of hand reared fillet steak, the kind you might buy in a Japanese restaraunt, knowing the beast led an easier life than the one you or I might have.
For now though, I am off to Prague on the 5th of July. I am SO SO SO SO looking forward to this. I hope I may have conveyed just how excited I am about this trip. Which reminds me, I really should go and pay for it...
Well, I'm off to the travel agents. Miss you all heaps and hope to talk to all my good friends soon.
Love Spanny
(ps that was an order not a sign off...)
First and foremost, thank you web god T for fixing my inability to blog. Now I have resumed my capabilities - hahahahaha watch out blogging world! There is no end to my bad jokes and senseless humour!!!
WOW! So here I am in Scotland and boy am I exhausted. I haven't partied this hard since my early university days. If there is one thing the Scots are good at, it's drinking. Oh and having a corker of a time. No pun intended...
I have done so much in the past few weeks I am unsure where to begin. Normally when I blog it takes me hours just to think of something slightly amusing which may (or may not) have happened in my day. Can any of us forget the scrapping of the bottom of the barrel which was my entry describing a Chicken Ceaser Salad?
Should I start with the Karaoke singing? Shirley Bassey eat your heart out! Or should I go with the drunken football on the side of the street at 3am whilst the boy wonder and his faithful sidekick bob the builder changed a tire? Maybe the chocolate martinis or the 1 double shots of er.. um, some form of alcohol?
Personally, my greatest experience has been driving up half of the west of scotland. First of all up the windy Arrochor Road at the greatest of speeds. Then a drink at a gorgeous scotish pub overlooking the loch, then onto Crainlarich (nothing there but a T intersection and a train station really) and around some of the most beautiful scenery in the world as I drove down through the Trossachs. Omg!!! Beautiful!
As for now, I am running low on time, so I will have to update later. I have a job in a pub for now, a few shifts a week. I know it is hard to believe, an Aussie barmaid.... but just stretch that imagination a little.
Bye for now!
SPANNERDOODLE!