Hello! Well over a month since my last post, I’m sorry! There’s been a lot to write about, and I want to go into more detail, and type out stuff I’ve written, and show you things I’ve found, and photos- but quite simply, I see a computer once a week ish, I facebook and reply to emails and that’s it.

So, for a start, new musical obsession: Bon Iver, I’m a bit obsessed, I’ve been listening to his album constantly for the last, oh, month. At least once a day and usually more. Just discovered William Fitzsimmons which is worth looking up on Last.fm.

In other news, I’ve been thinking more about studying- I’ve held off deciding when, where, for ages now, and it definitely won’t be next year or anything- but I’m getting a better idea of what. When I left school I had a huge list of things I wanted to go into- music, art, design, outdoors, tourism, event management.. list went on. But there was always this feeling that something hadn’t been found yet, there was something wrong with just studying something straight up- I know I’d have changed my mind a dozen times already and not have done well. Thing is, I’m not willing to have a career (and a life) in something I’m not happy with completely- not saying it’s gotta be perfect, or easy, but it’s got to fit the bill, or I’ll move on within a year- as with most things I do. Thing is about design and art, say I got a job in visual promotion for something- that’d mean I’d need to live in the same place all the time, all of a sudden I’d be promoting a company- and for what good? I can’t do anything for very long for just the money. I’d need to feel like I was contributing to a better world, doing my bit, something positive and more lasting, not going along with the consumer norm, something that’s just going to get thrown away. Music? Too narcissistic. I’d love it, for maybe even a few years, but at the end of the day there’s only a few job options available there anyway. Teaching, yeah, but honestly- only just finished school, not keen after seeing all my teachers washed out and discouraged all the time, and I wouldn’t get to travel much .

I’ve been giving thought to a few things- Event management is still a big one, travel is a feature, I’d probably end up living here though- festival work, tours, etc. It’s a lot of office work too, but at least it’s varied and they do get to see some amazing stuff. I think I could do that for a while. The other thing  I’ve noticed lately- I have this weird habit of noticing really strange things that other people don’t, asking strange questions about things, but completely missing big obvious changes. Like when Dad got a new truck and I didn’t notice for a year that it was purple, shiny and new, not the old navy one. I like observing things about society, small differences between cultures, and within cultures, I love little quirks unique to places and it’s people- language differences within 10 miles in the same city, looking at how a glaswegian reacts to an aberdonian buttery (delicious pastry thing, unheard of outside aberdeenshire), or Raro. How a canadian will interact with an american in a hostel. I point out these little quirks that delight me so much to other people, and while they find it vaguely interesting and odd, I hear ‘I’d never think of/notice that’ a lot, and it’s simply not as fascinating to anyone else. I like wondering why people are the way they are, what they react to, and what makes them change. On an individual level, a group level, and for society as a whole. I love finding pockets of society that have somehow been in their own sheltered bubble- people that’ve never travelled more than 20 miles to the next town, and think NZ is a part of Australia. I find it incredible when people don’t understand why you can’t understand their accent and slang- they’ve only met a handful of people from outside of their town in their life. And most of them were on the TV. I want to know why, and what makes them content, and I want to know why some people are the opposite, never happy to stay still for long, like me. I even enjoy, in a strange way, observing how I react to being alone all the time, and all of a sudden having someone there all the time (Amy’s with me at the moment)- all of a sudden, if I went missing, someone would notice within hours, not weeks- does that make me feel safer? Should it? It doesn’t, really. If anything it makes me feel a bit exposed. Someone (he’s not mad) told me I should be an engineer last month- I laughed at him, like why on earth would I be a good engineer? What kind of engineer? He went through a bunch of engineer jobs and what they do- no way, I said to all of them, it’s too.. machine-y. Technical. Completely unappealing. So why would i want to be an engineer? Well, he said, I’ve got a very analytical mind. Which, the more I think about it, makes sense.

So, from these things, I’ve found a few things that sound appealing- I haven’t looked into where I’d study, or what exactly it’d be called- probably Physchology/Sociology. Look at these big words: Microsociology, the Sociology of Emotions- this stuff really appeals to me. I think possibly I’m a bit odd. Could go on but it’s late and I want to tell you about my adventures…

Ok! Went up to Aberdeenshire for a week (over a month ago now!) which was beautiful, took lots of photos on my new camera- photos on facebook. Love it up there, full of weird little places, bits of history, quirky places and interesting people. Was a pretty relaxing week. Back down to Glasgow, hung about for a couple of days, had a bye party, which was a bit mental.  
Soon hopped on a coach down to London -> Windsor for the Royal Horse show- was working nice long hours in a carpark, good money, and surprisingly good fun. Mastered the art of the baby wipe/dry shampoo shower, record is 4 days. Made a couple of excellent friends, went out on the Sunday night with our last pennies scraped together to pool for a pint. Excellent night dancing in a horrible club, missed my train to Minehead the next morning- we couldn’t find the train station, so after a few brief moments of panic, my nice new friends offered me a seat in their car to wherever they were going. Had an excellent wee road trip and I’m honestly glad I missed my train- the boys drove me all the way to Minehead too, sweethearts. Stayed with a friend there for a night, picked up all my old stuff, and got a train back to Glasgow- had to drop off the stuff from Minehead. A few days taking it easy in Gla, went all the way back down to Somerset on a coach/train (by the way, we’re talking between 17 and 8 hour trips here- not fun) for Sunrise Festival, which was a great big stomping hippie fest. Am really quite fortunate to escape without a multitude of dreamcatchers, dreads, henna, and glitter all over me. Think I adapted quite well though, did embrace the glitter, tried Chi Gung (type of Tai Chi, v weird) and did a Yoga class, shared a rather small sauna with three naked men without pulling faces, bought a pair of 2nd hand gumboots and combatted lack of money/food by doing dishes for my meals (delicious vegan stuff) , carved what will only ever be a very ugly keyring out of welsh stone. Saw some nice bands, favourites being 3 Daft Monkeys and Undercover Hippie. Should really have gotten out more and seen stuff, but being on my own, sober and straight, in a rather high, wasted crowd only goes well for a few hours before you get sick of it. Sun was blazing hot, got a decent bit of colour on me without getting burnt. Discovered my tent is actually more suitable as an oven, except for the hours between 10pm and 5am. Did an awful lot of sleeping outside in the shadows of other people’s tents/porches- as they were all hippies this was pretty normal behaviour and they’ll kindly step over you. Spent nearly a week there, was a good time, a lovely festival with a very friendly safe atmosphere. I did 3 6 hour shifts stewarding over the 4 day festival, and it really felt like nothing.
Then spent another week in Glasgow, said bye to team Canada, who are touring Europe. Next day Amy joined me, which was pretty super, and while I meant to take her exciting places in Gla, I was a bit slack and we mostly spent 5 days lazing about the hostel cackling, drinking, catching up. Did do a bit of shopping, something I haven’t enjoyed for the last.. oh, year? Was quite nice.
We then got on a coach to Inverness, where we met Joy’s grandparents- absolutely lovely, but we feared for our lives when Dallas went round a roundabout the wrong way. Errrr..! Once over the shock of that we got fed delicious real meals and given real beds- family meals are a rare and wonderful thing for me, I love them. Next day we were off to Rockness Festival down the road from Inverness.
Poor Amy was subjected to my physcotic tent pitching – I have this unfortunate, irritating habit of being really weird about tent pitching. It might be something to do with Dad, just maybe- don’t lose the pegs! Don’t put it away wet! Fold it properly! Straight! You’re going to lose the pegs!  Every time I put a tent peg in the grass, I get a bit nervous and twitchy and have to put it away in it’s little bag, like I expect Dad to jump out and start criticising my tent technique. Luckily I didn’t inherit his soup-eating twitch- yep, in order to eat/drink your soup correctly, you have to put your spoon in the opposite side, and sip from this side without slurping. Yes. I know. Whenever we had soup for dinner in my house it was quite an apprehensive affair, someone would slurp accidentally and someone would start giggling nervously and everyone would look at Dad and wait for the soup lesson. OK, now I’m making my father sound completely mental. I did inherit some good stuff too, like, um, grey hair, wide feet, and an annoying tendency to annoy people with disney songs at inappropriate times. He’s not completely mental. Just likes his soup eaten/drunk and his tents pitched well.
Yeah. So poor Amy was subject to my nervous twitch, which worsened when we couldn’t figure out her new tent, causing me to stomp about angrily and mutter about not losing pegs. Sorted myself out with a good old primitive go with a rubber mallet on the pegs, and a bit of time out.
Worked for Oxfam, 2x 8 hour shifts, which really kind of dragged compared to Green Stewards (Sunrise Fest), but we got rather good shifts, were all finished by Saturday 8pm. The site was absolutely beautiful, main stage set at the bottom of a hill covered in daisies and buttercups with a view down the length of the Loch (Loch Ness, where Loch Ness monster lives), was really lovely. Saw Placebo, Dizzee Rascal, Sneaky Soundsystem, Basement Jaxx, and a tiny bit of Biffy Clyro and Prodigy. Atmosphere was a bit aggressive for my taste, a lot more booze-fuelled and I really couldn’t get into it, although I really enjoyed the music. There were a lot of really young, and really stupid people- Dizzee Rascal stopped his set twice because people were getting mauled in the mosh pit, and the front dude from Placebo had scissors thrown at him. Why would you do that? Ugh. There were two deaths over the weekend, just from people overdoing it. I think there were a fair few people there who have fairly tame office job lives, had been looking forward to it too much, and blew it all on drugs and alcohol. Really sad, on my night shift the ambulance was going past our gate every half hour.
By the end of the weekend I was really ready for some nice NZ dub- sick of hearing dance music and heavy basslines for 3 days. Shame they didn’t have a chill out area for overwhelmed people with welfare people etc, probably save a lot of hassle. That, and a dub tent. Was definitely a huge contrast to Sunrise. Still, by no means a bad time, it was sunny most of the time, saw some good music, met neat people, had a fire on the beach, met Nessie man, and oh! Nearly forgot! Tatted a paddling pool! Had been wanting one of those. Excellent multipurpose tool, a paddling pool. Had tatted (tatting: going looking through all the tat people leave behind at festivals) a  tent at Sunrise, my tent poles snapped (adding to my twitchy tent stress) so used the tatted ones, which were a bit small but worked. The tatted tent was a fantastic groundsheet for laying about on and playing cards. I love tatting, it’s incredible what people leave behind. Amazing how much fun looking through other people’s junk can be.  I left a bit early to go properly tatting- was hard to tell which tents were abandoned. Glastonbury will be one great big epic tat fest. Do wish my Dad was around to see that one- I can see his face- ’stuff!’ he’ say. (stuff! is an exclaimation not unlike crikey! or wow! in my Dad’s vocab. I think it’s funny, and often exclaim with stuff, but people don’t quite get it) ‘Look at all these tents! Well, they haven’t been put up very well. What a waste of a good tent. Is that a camping chair? oh, look, someone’s left a tent peg on the grass! I can’t believe it! Stuff!’
.. lol.

Poor Amy hated camping, but put up with it like a champ and didn’t complain <3 I’m very proud of her. It’s a nasty rugged little life in the tent, no bathrooms or mirrors or kettles or microwaves or plugs or standing room, the ground’s hard and lumpy. It quite suits me, although I’m probably going to hate life when it really rains properly. Please nnoooo, I’ve heard stories and they’re bad..

Next up camping and a little work at Silverstone F1 racing, then Glastonbury, wheee! and then Hop Farm, TinthePark, Glade.. xx

It  always baffles me that people don’t seem to think Glasgow’s worth looking around- Edinburgh is considered the prettier, it’s more touristy and has a more approachable history. But look: Glasgow, in all its filthy raging glory! It’s beautiful, it glows.

Photos are by Adrian Brannan, I saw his prints on the wall of a coffee shop and was blown away. I aim to have some one day, when *if* I have a home.  Take a look, he really captures the brilliance of this city <3

Well, today is my last day in Glasgow with K, the girl who’s been my best buddy here for the last …  6 months. We’re both off travelling, finally- we both thought we were unlikely to be able to afford it a lot of times over the winter – there were times I couldn’t afford to eat, let alone save, so it’s neat that we both get to do what we want now. We’re gonna be back in Glasgow at various points through the summer, but will miss each other by a few hours/days.

So it’s our last day! This seems kind of mental. I really haven’t given it a lot of thought til right now, 8.50 am, I’m working reception at the hostel after a long night out at Vegas (on the Ferry). Cleverly I started drinking tea when we got to the flat, so even though we were up til 5am I’m not too bad today, ha. Well, now I’m thinking about it, and I just can’t *imagine* not having K around, she’s become my family, as have P and M of the flat. Being alone, travelling, kind of scares the shit out of me. again. I don’t even know if I’ll have enough money, realistically. I’ve paid my deposits (which get refunded when you complete your shifts- stops you running off into the fest without working) for working festivals- and I’ve paid nearly £400, so if I run out of money partway through the summer, I’m in deep shit, cause I’ll lose that. I’ve just sort of crossed my fingers, plotted and schemed, and hopefully everything will come together. As opposed to falling apart :s

Being alone again is going to be weird. I like it, apart from the obvious loneliness, I wouldn’t have it any other way- gives me the freedom to meet up with friends, decide when and where and what, without having to consider what someone else wants to do. What I’m doing this summer isn’t really most people’s cuppa. It’s gonna be a bit rough sometimes, okay, really rough most of the time, long hours, not much sleep. I’m too bloody headstrong to travel with someone else anyway. I’ve gotten way comfortable in Gla, there’s usually some form of good company to be had, lots of cosy places to sleep and most of the time work. It does feel like I’m leaving home all over again, I’ll miss my city, and I’ll really miss the culture. In my opinion the english culture can sometimes be a little bland in comparison. Not always. I don’t really think that’ll apply at festivals with names like the Sunrise Celebration and Big Green Gathering and Beatherder. These places have SAUNAS in TEEPEES. Wigwams. Or whatever they are. And they Ommm. Really.

Today we’re going out to Loch Lomond and Balloch – guided by the lovely S, a former hostel long-termer (my first roommate and the first person I met) , and  C, who have been promising me a day trip to somewhere pretty for yonks. Taking K’s parents, who are in town at the moment (and, by the way, are awesome, they partied with us til the crack of dawn, K’s dad with a blue feather boa he recieved as some sort of gift from someone at Vegas) so it’ll be a proper family outing.

Completely obsessed with this song – and this band – at the moment. As is everyone else who works here, and at City Centre Hostel – when night shift J gets on at 12am, first thing he does is put this on. I spent yesterday’s 4 hour shift clicking ‘repeat’- still not sick of it. It sounds like a summer night in a friend’s passenger seat, driving past the sea on rocks road, and sticking your hands, then your arms, head, as much of me as possible without falling out, out the window, salty air, and singing.

Hey, I’m still alive!
Well, I didn’t mean for that to come out so surprised, but I am. Had a lot of people complaining about my lack of posts- but a few people said they’ve been really good lately. Mixed messages, no? Less posts + more news = better, I think.

Mainly it’s because I have a *life* now, as dismal and grim as it may be! These days there’s a lot of things to be done that prevent me blogging, mainly the bottles of cider I mean to drink in the park, the work thing I do sometimes (I’m ‘working’ at the hostel on reception at the moment), and planning my super mega awesome summer!

So, where were we?

Ah, my birthday. Was a rather fun night, messy, as birthdays should be. I had work the next day at an Muslim Wedding (temping can be odd at times) and the trek to the toilets was through a giant hall of bright colours, curry smells, BO (some Muslims don’t believe in deo), rather tightly packed. Predicting when you need to puke 5 minutes in advance and then enduring that was pretty rough. I survived, oddly.

Things kind of went downhill though- I’ve not had much work lately, I wasn’t going to be able to do anything I wanted to do for summer, my flat was getting a bit rough with bills- more the management of the bills than the fee itself- all the responsibilty was falling on me. When things start to get a bit grim like that, I miss home, I sleep in, I get despondent and lazy. Started to almost dread the weekend- well, i’ll call it apprehensive- more than I looked forward to it. I was looking for a better job with more reliable hours, but was all feeling a bit hopeless and irrelevant.

I was moaning to my Diary, as we shall call him, in an email, and he gave me a piece of rather obvious, yet invaluble advice:

 get a focus so that the crazy glasgow nights seem more like a release than an inevitability.

Which was a peice of solid advice. I determined to try harder to look for a better job, and move out of the flat, which is doing me more bad than good.
A few days after that, I had a rather sterling bit of luck: a month’s full time work at a M&S, through the same company I’ve been with all winter- and the owners of the hostel also offered me a job on reception. All of a sudden, I’ve got tons of work- last week I worked nearly 70 hours. Getting up at 5.30 to catch the bus, going to bed at 2am after all the check ins are done. So sleep is falling by the wayside, to put it lightly, but I now have some money to do all the things I want to do this summer!  Which is a bunch of festivals  like Leeds, Sunshine, T in the Park, Rockness, Glade, Secret garden Party, Glastonbury, Big Green Gathering.. I’m working at all of them, either volunteering (6 hours a day) for a free ticket, or getting paid (12 hour shifts) and getting a free ticket. Woot! In between there’s loads of other events, Truck Racing, Boat Shows, Horse Shows etc, for extra money, and I’ll be touristing around a bit, and doing a bit of HelpXing, (working on farms/smallholdings for food and board), and visiting friends around the place. Should be rather wonderful!

Last week I got a scary text from home: something about spinal units, movement in arms and legs, and please keep in touch. I finally got hold of my Dad after half an hour of freaking out, trying to get hold of home: noone was dying, or paralyzed, or in a coma. That information gathered, I found out my poor little brother is in Hospital having gone over the handlebars and has broken his spine. He will be okay, and probably recover with full movement- in a najor stroke of luck his spinal cord is fine. It sucks that I can’t be there with them to deal with it, I felt a long way away that day.

Other things that have happened lately:

We went bowling for M’s au revoir partay recently. On the way home my chums/roomies C & A decided to adopt a couple of road signs. They decided to take a shortcut home through the park, M and I walked P & K halfway home. When M & I arrived back home to the hostel, the other girls still weren’t there- they’d been arrested for stealing road signs. They weren’t locked up, just thoroughly yelled at, and now they’re on record, which kind of sucks. But was also kind of funny.

I bought a tent from Amazon, it’s pretty sweet, supposedly two man but will basically fit me and my bag comfortably. We pitched it in the lounge and told ghost stories. It’s my last week in Gla before I begin my travels- I’ll still be back quite a lot to refuel and crash and stuff. I’ve made the most amazing spreadsheet you’ve ever seen, with all my festivals and plans in it.

I now like coleslaw. This is awesome. In fact, I love it, when I used to hate it. I remember it containing weird stuff like cheese, raisins and onion when I was younger, and it was made with that awful tasting mayo, not the nice stuff. Also like potatoes, I didn’t like potatoes much either before. This is getting weird.

Large chunks of my hair are blue again.. and going to also be purple & red too, and later on perhaps some turquoise and green- yeah I know, most object to green, but beside blue and dark purple it can look good. We shall see. I’m being a bit messier with it this time, doing it in the bathroom sink rather than a salon.

There has been what I assumed was just a big chunk of gib board or something in our flat’s close since I moved in, leaning against the wall. Recently, after coming home from Gramophone at something like 1am, curiosity seized me and I took a closer look: it was a big photo frame, 2 metres high. I turned it over as stealthily as I could, and was delighted to find a huge, epic bit of prose. Desiderata, it declared in curly writing. And it said this:

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, Desiderata
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

My sentiments exactly.

I was quite well pleased with that and wrote it in my book.

Have now obviously moved out of the flat, back at the hostel. Has made life easier I have to say, although I’ll miss the huge, private space my room allowed.

You can probably tell I’m not really in a blog writing mood lately, too distracted. Too sleepy.. cuppa tea time.

..was glorious. sunny and warm. The thought that I might not get to go travelling in the summer and see bands in the sushine/mud makes me feel ill. On the upside, if I am stuck in Gla, at least I get to see BRAND NEW in a few months- thaaat’s right! They’re playing at Barrowland, so I get in free! Saw the Wombats a few weeks ago, did I mention?Yann Tiersen coming up soon, too. Did I ever mention I once accidentally (I was working) saw the Saturdays? They are terrible, really, avoid hearing them. along the same lines as the pussy cat dolls and those ones from america idol and what. It was fab though, I was hanging round in a corridor somewhere making like I was working, waiting for a lift or something with a trolley of food and a couple of chefs, when these uber-bronzed boosted bewigged painted barbies trotted past. The effect on me was laughing gas, the chefs were in another world, and I really didn’t want to know. But I’d never seen a hardcore girlband close up, and I wasn’t aware things got that.. fake. It’s believable from a distance but when you get close up.. oh my god. The poor girls, imagine how much of your life would be occupied by doing things to yourself! Later we saw them perform, I giggled bitchily for a bit then ran away to where I couldn’t hear it. Those times were harsh on my ears. And now they’re sold out. Who actually gets enthused about that crap? It’s just.. obscene eye candy. Is there actually any pleasant sound? Astonishing. Anyway.

This weekend’s my birthday, which is nice, people won’t scream as loudly when I tell them my real age. 19 hardly sounds much better, but it’s getting there. Not that I mind being young, really, I’m just so much YOUNGER than everyone else- I’m the definite baby of the group, my friends average at about 25. So that’ll be good, we’re going to a Ceilidh, which is the most violent dancing in the world. Uh, don’t quote me, but don’t try and say something else hurts more til you try Ceilidh dancing, oh god. It hurts. Can’t wait.

SO I have updated the present page, I suggest you  take a look and act promptly. Speaking of, I haven’t yet properly thanked all you lovely people who sent me things for Christmas- it was wonderful, I had a white christmas (note, two months later), I went up to Aberdeenshire for a weekend with Lisa.

Er, what else? I’m thinking about writing to a Death Row inmate. Could be interesting.

TTFN, x L

Today I fell down a flight of stairs and made quite a racket. Really thought I’d bounce a little more. Now I can’t sit on my arse very comfortably at all. Sigh. I wouldn’t recommend falling down any stairs, it’s very embarrassing and a bit painful, like a sexual disease. lol. sorry, that is totally inappropriate but what can you do when these things present themselves in your head? By your head I mean my head. Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.

Last night I spent an hour talking to a homeless man. It was enlightening, he answered all these burning questions I had. Like where they go at night, and how they keep warm (answer: alleys, heat pads, disposable raincoats, padded insoles). He’s one of the few I’ve talked to that aren’t really out of their heads.

Never, ever wash a scarf. Once I washed my scarf, and it unravelled, and the other day I washed my other scarf, the one with the hideous colours that hurts my eyes but is strangely pleasing.. and the colours all ran and it went a mucky brown and I had to throw it out, i couldn’t bear to look at it.

Let that be a lesson to you all. Your scarf does not need washing.

It’s beginning to get warmer now, some days I can’t even see my breath in the air. I never need use the heater in my flat, and the days of sludgy sllippery sidewalk are over. For now.

There are flowers too.

The shortlived snow was great though – Oh, snow is excellent! You might have seen on the news, London was being a wuss and complaining about all the snow, and people are falling over and cracking open and cars are getting stuck and there isn’t enough salt and generally it’s a scene. In Glasgow it’s not really bad, it’s just there, and when it snows in the city it tends to dissapear quite fast. I was working out in the suburbs and it was piled high out there, watching the ‘burbs whiz by from the second storey of a bus was terrific and bizarre- made the 1.5 hour trip twice a day seem trivial. I was not so appreciative when the snow claimed my socks, and greedily caked them in sludgy ice which melted and made me squelch all day. My feet looked like they’d been in a spa for 12 hours. But colder. mmm

Here are some photos of the snow(on a milder day):

(this is Scott, my only fellow Kiwi over here we lived in the hostel together)

One evening, walking along Great Western Road in the snow, I passed a girl who had a huge grin on her face, which set me off, and the next person I saw caught the infectious smile too- I wonder how far it got.

You can see more of these from a new section of the blog, the *Photoblog*, where I’ll post photos from Herts, Minehead, Glasgow, Aberdeen, and Killin eventually. Look on the right hand menu, will turn up in the next few weeks. Work in progress.  My photos tend to be a little random as I’ve either stolen them from friends, or taken them from my camera phone. I still haven’t managed to buy myself a camera, and have resolved to get myself one of those pish-poor £50 ones or something, in time.

But you know, got to prioritise, the rent comes first. Well, second, after silly things like whisky.

Did you know (I’ve finally gotten my facts straight), that Glasgow is the knife-crime capital of Europe? Really doesn’t help that I sometimes read the newspaper – at the end I always wonder why I bother, because I’m less blissfully unaware of the violence and government corruption in the world, and namely, my own city, where someone differentseems to get stabbed every day. Really doesn’t help that I just read trainspotting.

To Quote:

One Scottish police officer told BBC News: “If you think you’ve got it bad down in London, you should take a look at Glasgow.”

Scotland, and Glasgow in particular, has some frightening statistics when it comes to knife crime.

Therefore every time I walk home after dark, even from the subway to my flat, I’m nearly weeing my pants, walking past all the inset doorways of abandoned tenements that junkies and ladies of the night favour. My doorway nook is in between a bookies and a bottle shop, and quite popular on a friday night. The doorway, that is. I’d been planning on getting some pepper spray, but when I was talking to a friend at a party, she told me it’s illegal to carry pepper spray. Which is absolute bollocks really. She did teach me this trick though, which I’m quite pleased to know- holding your keys in your fist so that a key sticks out between each knuckle. So every night when i walk home, it’s a huge comfort..
Also comforting to know that most of the people murdered/stabbed knew their, er, stabber. Not so much for all the rapes I guess. There was a girl raped and stabbed recently in the middle of the day on a low-level rail platform by my house. It’s also comforting to know that half of the female population roughly my age her actually dress like hookers (have you seen those tight shiny leggingy trousers? ) so are probably going to be targeted before me. You know, less/no layers to get through.

Here’s my flat building:

Ha. our flat starts behind that wall. I’m quite pleased with it though, and somehow I bagged the master bedroom, which is huge and quiet and never gets very cold. The doorway is in between a bottle shop and a bookie’s, and around that corner is a shelter for, er, working women.

When I first moved in, there was noone ever there and I only met one of my flatmates in the first month- it’s a 4 bedroom flat so it was really quite weird. One day I was in the shower and discovered someone had been USING MY RAZOR. Okay. My little brother did that once (you, or I, do not want to know) and I was mad then, but this?! is ridiculous, thought I. The wiry black possibly-pubic hairs mocked me from their perch on my razor blad. I wasted no time in posting a notice:

Hello

That’s what I’ve been telling myself constantly lately- that and ‘I won’t cry about money’.

It was something one of my friends said, in an email or something, and when I looked it up (eventually found on her blog) to quote it directly it was not that at all, it was much more eloquent:
‘It always amazes me how much your state of mind affects everything – hard things are easy when you are relaxed and happy’.

This is one of the rare times when I think, Arrgh, the people were right, life DOES get harder when you leave home/leave school. Because it’s all been ripping at the seams lately, even when I work ridiculous hours commuting to the stupidest most far away places, I still only have enough to meet ends some weeks. But then I start thinking about how things were when I was  at school, and if I really think about it- this is all easy compared to that. I’d rather be losing hundreds of pounds, getting robbed, getting conned (long boring stories, but it’s happened),  than have all the responsibility of being at home, and at school. Every day was some new issue, something serious and horrible. I don’t know why, or how, but when I left school, things got cruisy. And I wonder if things only become harder when you get older (theoretically) because people want them to, and bring it upon themselves with mortgages and credit cards, children, property, marriage. The whole package you’re supposed to buy into. And then I wonder if that’s just me avoiding ‘real life’.

I don’t think I want real life. Quite content with my joke of a life.

Was emailing my Ma, as I do, telling her about my plans for summer and contrastingly, my lack of money, and how I had no idea how the two were really going to go, and this came out:
”hmm.. I can’t wait, but at the same time I’m completely overwhelmed and terrified. Somehow I’m still much more in my comfort zone that I was at home.. er… or maybe I just don’t really like my comfort zone. I find it depressing. Ha”

It’s exactly a year (well, not to the day, but) since I left home now. That means Awaroa is already about 8 months ago, and I’ve been here.. 7 months. Ugh, that means my once-in-a-lifetime Visa is running out. And you know? I don’t want to leave. Need to find a Scotsman to marry, quick! (er, just for the passport, like. none of that wedding nonsense, mind)

Well, it’s happened: the exhilarating first sighting of the signs of easter, creme eggs! It happened in Dublin, and I got very excited and immediately began to plot easter shenanigans, eg. leaving chocolate eggs all over the flat (not mine, that would be no fun, but the one I couch surf at often, with P and M. they will find eggs in their cups and their bread and couch and ashtrays and in their beds and their pockets and their beards), and sampling the exquisite range of different kinds of creme eggs, which, in my opinion, is the finest kind of chocolately treat there is, only made better by the fact that the’re seasonal. Aha, easter is upon us! But.. no. My grand plans were somewhat taken down a notch when I realised that easter is still three months away. Oh, this silly country. Still, can’t complain about the chocolate.

I feel it’s high time for a review! There are many things I’ve never sampled before in the egg range this season. Here is one of them:

Cadbury Creme Egg Twisted!

I finally succumbed to the lure of these when I saw them on special at Boots. They have provoked my curiousity for the last few weeks, causing me troubled dreams. Given my love for a Creme Egg, Especially the bit when you get to the yoke, after all the hard work of the outer shell (especially the top bit) it really is an awesome reward.

The first bit yeilds quite easily, which surprises me somewhat considering the aforementioned hard work. In my mouthful I get some pleasingly runny white stuff and yolk, which is also surprising as usually you get too much of something and none of something else (eg. too much chocolate, no filling) because of the Creme Egg’s unusual shape. A Creme Egg will often leave you sticky, overloaded and with a sticky ball of tin foil. The genius of the Twisted bar is that it avoids all the usual problems associated with Creme Egg eating.The filling and Chocolate is evenly distributed, the ridging on the outside makes pleasant bite size portions, there’s no foil, and you get a bit of yolk with every mouthful. It’s easy to avoid getting sticky, and you don’t have to finish it all at once. Overall it’s a very well thought out peice of Candy, I approve. HOWEVER, I can’t help feeling a slight sense of dissapointment that it’s not.. well.. egg shaped. I like the hard work, the foil, and the stickyness. A creme egg is more of a KAPOW, whereas a Twisted is, well, a candy bar. A very nice one, but, it’s kind of like comparing ashot of Tequila (salt and lemon) with, say, a jack and coke. Generally the unpleasant bits of Tequila are tolerated for the KAPOW. And it’s legendary, like the creme egg: songs have been written to it’s greatness.

Rated: 8/10

This was mostly inspired by a recently discovered website. P and I recenlty spent an evening dicussing biscuits at length, in depth. I took great pride and joy telling him about the Squiggle biscuit, which hails from NZ.

http://www.nicecupofteaandasitdown.com/

So I should probably tell you what else happened in Dublin. Well, we were there for 5 days, and for the first fewdays.. really, you don’t want to know. As I’ve said, it resulted in my ankle getting killed, it’s since a bit better, I can certainly walk on it, it’s just a bit fat.  Later days, We went to  Kilmarnock Gaol, which was super, we went twice There was a lovely Irish man with a wonderful voice. K and I were overwhelmed by the magic of that man. This made me somewhat determined to go to a pub and find an Irish, and talk to it. Oh, the accent!

Of course, we went to Temple Bar, and the Castle, which echos your belches. That kept us amused for a while. It’s pure genius we didn’t murder each other. I threw a tantrum once or twice at the cold wind, and demoted P from map-reading, declaring him unfit if he couldn’t navigate with a RIVER next to him. We got K’s visa back, which was the primary reason for our visit, so that’s good. The whole thing was massively expensive, but meh. We made many friends, I mostly stayed out of danger, and best of all, I can remember most of it. Well, I think so. I can’t remember.

But by far the best part: coming home, to this fair City. Once off the plane, with our feet planted on Scottish soil once again, we found our bus, our friendly helpful busdriver whacking his ticket machinery and pushing the buttons, encouraged by us. Once it was deemed he’d made a good attempt to fix the broken, he waved us on without paying. Ah, Glesga, I missed you. Lovely Glasgow where everyone walks into each other (Glaswegians, for some reason, have this very irritating but slightly charming habit of not looking where they’re walking, causing collisions and impromptu dances and sudden braking, like thousands of toddlers), and people ignore the green/red man at traffic lights and it still works (nearly got run over in Dublin for the same thing), and where the slang is so thick it’s like another language (try terry Pratchet’s ‘The Wee Free Men’ which will give you a mild taste) and to the beautiful light. It was all the more sweeter for realising that, actually, Glasgow does feel like home now. Home away from home, which I haven’t had since Awaroa. It’s a nice feeling Friends, places to hang out, work. Money, and my own space, and consistency. Mmm

Still can’t get used to homeless people. If I’m alone (my friends don’t let me) I sometimes give them my change, but it doesn’t help, I still feel guilty, and feel like bad karma just heaps on every time I walk past.

Moving on..The coolest thing happened to me today!

I’d just gotten off the subway, about 6.30pm, after a very long shift working with a woman who asked me to ‘git doon tay shop flo’ n get t’ messages’ – which is apparently ‘would you do the shopping’

messages: shopping?

Anyway, my head was done in a little, I was nearing the end of my walk home and my dindins and shower and book beckoned me. A folded ten pound bill fluttered to the ground in front of me, and I picked it up and spotted it’s owner, a young ‘ned’, scottish equivalent of a chav, and his pal. I tapped his shell-suited shoulder, and handed it back to him. The pure shock and delight on their faces was great. ‘What’d you do that for! Any normal person’d just keep it!’ (note: when Neds talk, it is with much slang, and also a distinctive nasal squeak, trademark of a Ned. Too much effort to try and type the strange words they use though) I shrugged, and said ‘I’m foreign.’
They continued to look delighted, guffawing to each other, and then his friend squeaked: ‘It’s not about being foreign! It’s about what’s in here!’ with great enthusiasm and a thump to the chest. I thanked them, and grinned all the way home. (People I passed caught it and started smiling too, I love it when that happens) I may just possibly have screwed over the rules to some young Ned’s world.

Well after all that fuss about whether to go to Of Montreal  or Bloc Party, i went to neither- After eventually deciding on Of Montreal, K decided she was going to a Viking Fire Festival in Shetland then, so I would have to go ALONE (noone else was willing, Of Montreal are a bit weird) and after finally deciding I COULD go to a bar alone, (very frightening, esp as it would bw filled with Indie kids and their fringes) I went to buy the ticket, and there were none left However about a week ago I went to the Buzzcocks (free tickets, via my sweet hookups) which was hilarious, many many aging punk rockers moshing and generally rocking out, balding, fat and all. The actual band was well worth seeing, too.

Well I’ve run out of net time.. over and out

Heya lads and lassies

I’ve realised that I am in the wrong country at the wrong time (I do this often) because the pound is falling, the NZD is rising, and so is the euro. So anywhere I go outside of fair britain is going to be a terrible expense. This trip, it seems Europe is out of the equation. I’m in Dublin at the moment, and the little money I have is draining away, because everything is actually twice as expensive- think $15NZ for a pint of Guinness! So until I’m earning the Euro, Europe is out of the question.
Have ruled going home via Canada out, as I’d need approximately $6000NZ to do that. But Thailand in a year and a half is looking likely!
Dublin is cool, very touristy though. Here for 4 nights, 5 days. I’ve managed to sprain my ankle, we had a scare with our passports and have drunk a lot. That’s all for now. Gotta jobsearch, bar job in Glasgow..

Toodle Ra, pip pip!

Hello

It’s been approximately 11 days of madness. I’ve recently moved into my new room in a flat, which I only visit to wash my laundry and eat and shower. I always seem to end up sleeping on chums couches- my flat is so BORING. there is nothing to do there, and my head feels so.. STRAIGHT. Anyway, the other flat has tv, alcohol and ashtrays, blankets and people. There is noone to annoy in my flat! It’s kind of like.. a hallway with doors, you never see anyone else.

It’s in quite a dodgy area, and walking home in even the slightest darkness always puts me on edge and reminds me that supposedly Glasgow is the most dangerous city in europe- don’t quote me on that, never found evidence as such, someone just told me and it gave me the creeps.

New Years was entertaining, I was going to go to the Hogmanay thing in George Square but tickets were not forthcoming.. and really, I’m quite glad, because my night of house paties was splendid, we even saw a couple of misdirected fireworks. To be fair I only remember slivers of my evening, which is a shame because I have a sneaky feeling it was great fun.

Work is thin on the ground, hence so is money :s But IT’LL BE FINE, as with many things it’s a waiting game.. boring details, blahdeblah. At the moment I’m slavishly washing dishes in ASDA, a horrible big supermarket. And it’s very part time, which is worrying.. stupid agency.

Recently I was looking online at visa stuff.. boring shite that it is… and there seems to be no way I can get a european visa while I’m still in Europe- I need to apply for it from NZ. Which is a pain in the bum, and narrows options considerably..I can however get tourist visas, but not working. I can get one for Canada applying from here, so

My options:

(please vote! even if you’re just a passer-by)

After I come home (what an exciting, dizzying thought!) I’ll work my arse off for a year or so (?) then off to somewhere else in the world? Although I am also considering a short studying period so I can get better jobs, ie. managing positions instead of being a minion.. I’m thinking either Europe or maybe an island like Samoa.. this could mean a teaching degree? I’m not sure I think by the time I’m home I’ll have a better idea…

pip pip!