Monday, January 31, 2011

Travel is Dangerous

So, I mentioned not long ago that I'd been on a brief trip to Madrid, and that I'd struggled getting back because of the weather. It had been snowing, which made a lot of people very angry. I don't quite understand that - getting angry at the snow is like getting angry at the Moon, it won't change anything.

Anyway, our flight provider sorted us out with a hotel room for the night. Hotel Auditorium is the largest in Europe, and you can tell. Sadly it's also in the middle of nowhere, so there wasn't really much for us to do. We read a little. We ate our complimentary buffet dinner. We watched Barcelona destroy Madrid at football in the over-priced hotel bar.

We needed to be back at the airport for 6am, which meant rising at 4am. Fun times. We flew from Madrid to Gatwick, then (after threats of a four-hour delay which turned out to be hollow) from Gatwick to Glasgow. Not our planned route, or on our planned day, but in the end I was back in my flat only 25 hours after I expected to be.

No harm done really. I tend not to stress about these situations. However, on arriving back I was dog tired. I'd also been wearing basically the same outfit for 25 hours longer than I'd planned to. I wanted a shower, a sleep and a real meal. In that order.

After my shower and before my sleep I bundled all of my clothes from the trip into the washing machine. I'm organised like that. After a delicious nap, I arose, and went into the kitchen to deal with my nice clean clothes and my dinner.

On opening the washing machine I discovered A Terrible Thing. Bits of papery stuff mixed among my clothes. What's this? My passport case? How did that get in here? ...Oh.

It seems my passport was still in my pocket. It was very clean, and utterly useless. No way I'll be leaving the country with it.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I have had to apply for two passports in two years. There's a lesson to be learned here somewhere.

Saturday, January 29, 2011


Ice on Glasgow's streets,
A man slips,
Goodbye dignity.

Music from downstairs,
No more sleep.
Anger reigns again.

Which shoes should I wear?
It's raining!
Middle class problems.

It is 3am.
I should sleep,
but I'm on Facebook.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

As You Like It

Challenge time!
Lets play a game where we try to make the phrase "I like my men like I like my _____: ______" as horrific as possible. I'll start us off.

"I like my men like I like my _____: ______"

Coffee: Rich and trapped in a sack.
Films: Funny and violent... or foreign.
Science: Hard and strictly physical.
Heels: High and dangerous.
Books: Thick and bound in leather.
Jeans: Distressed and slightly too big for me.
Steak: Rare, but definitely dead.

Right, your turn. Think you can do worse? Bring it on.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Birthday Stats

General stats
Real Name: Becky Douglas

Nicknames: Becka, Wench, Wenchy, Wenchstress, Helgar the Wench, Ohshititsher, English, Beckto, Le Becs Fontaine, Fatty, etc, etc.

Age: Mind your own.

Appearance: Impeccable.

Height: 5'7", but I feel taller than last year.

Shoe size: 5, since you ask.

Do you act your age or your shoe size? Probably closer to the latter.

Occupation: Student and general layabout.

Birthday stats:
Birthday wishes received;
-in person: 18
-on the phone: 3
-by text: 7
-through facebook: 58 0_o
-through twitter: 1
-from companies via email: 8. Nice.

1. Maybe I should remove myself from a few mailing lists.
2. Facebook really is taking over the world, but that's OK, because if I'd had to reply to 58 texts, or answer 58 calls today I would have had a meltdown.
3. More of my friends need to get twitter. Or maybe I need to get more friends. :-/

I had a lovely day. Thanks everyone for messages, cards (somehow not important to this survey), calls, hugs, gifts and fun times. I'm going to go find my walking stick.

Monday, January 24, 2011


Today is my birthday.

If you guys skipped the singing this year, I think I'd pretty much be fine with that.


Sunday, January 23, 2011

Eggs Studente

I have invented a breakfast!

Eggs Studente

  • One croissant
  • One egg
  • Butter
  • Rocket
  • Salt and pepper
  1. Poach the egg in slightly salted water.
  2. Meanwhile, warm the croissant with a quick zap in the microwave.
  3. Split the croissant and butter it lightly.
  4. Fill with the egg, add salt and pepper, and a handful of rocket.
  5. Enjoy your almost-posh breakfast.

Friday, January 21, 2011


In November I went to Madrid for a weekend. At each airport we passed through airport security without problems. Except at Gatwick, which we only ended up at because of the weather. I bleeped when walking through the x-ray, and the security lady flagged up my handbag as containing something suspicious.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am dreadfully untrustworthy. However, people who don't know me usually can't tell. I suspect that this is why I only got stopped once on our trip. Not that I'm a terrorist, just that I'm your average, middle-class, white girl, so I don't even look like a terrorist.

I permitted the security lady to search me (I have no idea what would have happened if I'd refused the search. Probably something violent). When she was certain I didn't have a knife in my boot or a dynamite belt around my waist she let me pass.

I permitted the security gentleman to search my handbag. I promised him it contained no needles or anything else sharp or dangerous. He removed all my electronic equipment and scanned it. I'm a geek, that was a lot of stuff, it felt like it took an age. He then removed my book, which contained this:

That's my bookmark. It is metal, and hooked, and I suppose a bit suspicious if you haven't seen one before. Although the person who flagged it had not, the gentleman searching my handbag had.

I had a bit of a Moment. I thought he was going to confiscate it. That was fine, if he did so I'd probably be allowed on the plane and I'd get home. I wasn't worried about that, I had a much greater concern.

"Ah, sorry. Um, would you mind if I just checked my page number?"

He cocked an eyebrow.

"You're not dangerous."

He took the bookmark to show to the lady behind the desk. He brought it back and carefully inserted into the book at the correct page. He chuckled, and sent me on my way.

Nick, exasperated, commented that this is why I should just use a bit of card like everyone else. Card isn't nearly so pretty, but I may consider using it for future flights.

Monday, January 17, 2011


I just realised that my previous post was in fact the first post of 2011, and that I haven't done a New Years' Resolution entry yet.

I asked a couple of friends for ideas, first via facebook. This was not useful, suggestions ranged from giving up physics to building a teleporter. My ever hilarious flat mate suggested I loose some f**king weight. That's the kind of wit you can cut yourself on.

So, I got brave and went into the real world. I asked some people there. Not randomers, that would be weird, I asked my friends. Someone suggested doing more of whatever I wished I had more time for last year.

So, as a result, here are my New Years Resolutions:

1. Play more video games.
2. Bake more cake.
3. Make better use of your shoe collection (expanding it where possible).

I think I'll be a genuinely better person if I succeed.

By the by, my spell-checker is not happy about "facebook" or "teleporter" which leads me to believe that it is from the past.


Here is a conversation via text message between myself and my chap (I am in italics, because they're girly):

Hey, want to meet up some time next week? xxx

Yeah well I figured we'd meet up at the weekend anyway. xxx

Ok, sounds good. I reckon we should get sushi :) xxx

Yeah sure. I could come over Monday if you'd prefer. I don't know if you have anything planned. xxx

Monday as in tomorrow? I have Red Cross stuff on. The weekend is fine if it's ok for you too. xxx

I meant Monday as in your birthday :P


True story. Time kind of sneaks up on you like that sometimes. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'd forgotten my birthday - I knew that it was soon - I'd just forgotten how soon it was.

So, as one might expect, as I am getting older I am becoming senile. It's the only explanation. Who's surprised?