A or lazy?

I have always said that me and Boy have the innate (perhaps God-given?) ability to be able to tolerate our own untidiness -- filth -- for a level that is highly socially unacceptable and just "not right". We're soul mates that way. That being said, I have someone coming over at 2 PM to help with the garden. Inevitably, she will want to come into the flat, to have a cuppa or wash her hands. Am I a) moving away from my uber-Type A ways to accept the laws of the universe (that one cannot control everything) and am maturing in accepting this, or b) just sheer lazy?

Getting my priorities straight

Just in case something major happened and someone tried to ring me at the house, the phone has been down. And internet. It is back up now, but it was down starting on Thursday. Boy noticed that morning. I had managed to log on successfully at 7 AM, but at 8.30, he couldn't. And the phone was down.

This really got Boy's goat; me, I was laying low cos I thought it was all my fault. Maybe I hadn't paid the bill and they cut us off. Plus, you know what time it is people -- end of the month. If our bank account was the petrol tank of a car, then we were riding on fumes. Soon enough, someone was going to have to get out and push the damn car. So I was shutting up and putting up.

But Boy wasn't having it. He was especially indignant about the lack of broadband. In a tone that was more camp than he intended, he shrieked, "You don't care about anything, do you?!" Uh, let's get this straight. This broadband, for fuck's sake. Not starving children in Africa nor dogs getting beaten nor global warming nor even people putting incorrect items in recycling bins. It's just the stupid internet.

And anyway, I had internet service on my mobile.

My hols

With friends from the US here, I'm spending my Easter break visiting some of Scotland's finest tat. Let's see, we've been to the National William Wallace Monument, Stirling Castle, the Parliament, Blackford Hill and loads of restaurants and countless and nameless pubs, particularly to the early hours of the morn. However, my favourite place visited, by far, has to be the Britannia.

The Britannia was the Queen's royal yacht. It was decommissioned in 1997 and it has been said repeatedly that the Queen was incredibly emotional at the ceremony. She likes her boat better than others. Anyway, the boat is totally in a time warp and it killed me.

It still kills me. The things that killed me in particular:

• The pictures of the Queen and family all over the boat, even in the mess of the sailors. Delightful.




• The guy in the fudge shop who scoffed distainfully when this silly tourist, me, said I wanted to buy a wee piece of fudge. "How long have you been here?" he said, sniffing. "Four years." Bitch.


• There was only single beds in the whole of the yacht, even in her and Prince Phillip's room, and the only double bed was placed in there by sexed-up Prince Charles.


• Would the royals have to pay to look out this viewing telescope on the deck? Or would some servant arrive with the money?


• The tiny accommodations were crazy! The bunks with the curtains were for the higher ranks. So only the officers could have a wank in peace.

Hopefully the rest of the pictures will be up later on Shutterfly.

Knackered

Well, my American friends are here and despite all of my attempts otherwise, we tired them out. One of them, after brekkie, had a wee lie-down. Very little is getting accomplised today. I had other friends come years ago and, amist the excitement of their arrival, I walked them about 5 miles around the city. They didn't say a word, but the next day, they didn't leave their hotel room. Why don't people stop us!?

Yippee!

I have friends coming from the States to visit me over the holidays! I'm so excited. I'm pissing myself with glee. They arrive in two days. Nothing is cleaned, no food purchased, their bed not prepared. But I'm on Cloud Nine cos I know SOMEBODY cares enough to visit ME! Me, me, me!!

Take note people.