I love karaoke. I love my old man's karaoke pub where you can walk in and sing something any day of the week. I think you can tell a lot about someone by the songs they sing. I hate people who are too pretentious to go into the pub in the first place or who turn their noses up at the regulars who are always in there having a good old knees-up.
Life is too short to be pretentious. I went to a couple of 'posey' bars last night with the boyf and I was astounded at the lack of people on the dancefloor. If there's music playing, I'm bopping. And that's the end of it. You can be still and pout and look good and perfectly made up when you're in your coffin as far as I'm concerned. Life is for living. Go for it!

25.01.08

2pm

Bloody hell, sat waiting for my taxi to the airport and the hotel is going mental with conference people! There's a weird Scottish guy on the phone in the reception shouting his business problems all over the place – whatever happened to people being quiet?

Had a lovely morning walking north up the river as far as I could be bothered going, sat a while and thought about a certain someone. In fact, I've been thinking about a certain someone all morning, and the more I've thought about them, the more I've gone off them. Which isn't a tragedy. Funnily enough, I've also thought about Tommy Steele this morning, so it's not like my head has been anywhere normal! My internal monologue was rambling away to itself, laughing at the hilarity of Tommy Steele playing a leprochaun in Finian's Rainbow when he's more cockney than My Fair Lady to the power of Mary Poppins! Sometimes I wonder if I'm mad....

Do other people have internal monologues? I mean, other than Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City and JD in Scrubs. I seem to have whole conversations going on sometimes, and not always only with myself... Hmmm, it beats talking out loud, cos then people can hear you and if they can't hear you they can see your lips moving and think that you're mad anyway. Not that I've ever denied being mad.

Anyway, now that this routine probe into my sanity has passed, I can tell you that while I've been sat in my un-blissfully un-silent reception waiting area I have learned that I will have the joy of sharing the airport minibus with a group of jump-up, self-important businessmen. Haleluja, my life is complete. If only my wireless would work I could download some dodgy videos so that they could see and hence avoid conversation. How sociable I am today!

Looking forward to getting picked up at the airport. Really want to do a daft slo-mo run or maybe jump at him and wrap my legs round him and knock him over. Ha ha. Otherwise it might as well be him picking me up at the bus stop. You've gotta do something interesting to show you've been away and apart for longer than a day or two. I think its really funny that he's missed me so much. If I'm honest, the only time I've thought of him is to curse him for letting me come here alone. That's not really missing him, is it?

Gonna go sign off now, too many taxi drivers are turning up and too many people are waiting to steal them...

4pm

Just had what could well be my most enjoyable airport experience ever! Queued for five minutes at the desk, didn't get questioned about who had packed my luggage or if anyone had asked me to carry a bomb on board (stupid questions – as if you're going to say “yes, I met a nice terrorist on my way here and he asked me if I 'd be so kind to take this package in my case”) and then practically walked straight through to the departure lounge. With the exception of having to take my boots off when going through security (“oh yes, Mr Terrorist also asked me to wear these exploding boots”) and showing everyone my bright pink socks, it's been ace. Well done terminal 1 staff!

Got 40minutes to kill before boarding so I'm gonna go see if I can get a connection anyway in the airport and thoughtfully sip a coffee, otherwise known as lunch. Can't wait to get on the plane and go to sleep!!!

Spent a day in a spa today!! First time as a proper paying customer in a proper spa - twas muchos lovely!  Got rubbed and stretched and massaged and soaked in all sorts of yummy things that I'd've rather eaten and drank lots of green tea and then swam a lot and sweated a lot in something called an 'infra sauna' which is supposed to help combat cellulite. The same way that starving is meant to combat obesity, no doubt.
Anyway, to top it all off, as I left, a nice man in a robe gave me the eye and there was a cute grey kitten mewing on the path outside. Wonderful! Tried to be all cultural and go to an architectural museum, but by the time I got there it was shut, so I just walked round and froze my ass off.
Which leads me to my next subject - how good I am at walking around. Now, most men seem to think that they are experts in an exhaustive list of fields, two of which are driving and directions. And women of course are lousy drivers and can't find their way to the toilet in a bar. Wrong. I'm an amazing driver, and would still have my car if a MAN hadn't've driven into me because he forgot to check his mirrors. And I am great at directions. I have made it through this city for four days now with a paltry excuse for a map and not a clue as to the workings of the town or the public transport, and have managed to successfully get trains, trams and cable cars on my own, and find my way to and from anywhere without asking for directions or getting lost ONCE. I'm a bloody genius. Oh, and there are no signposts in English. I've gotta hand it to me, I'm pretty amazing.

However, on my last night here, I have to wonder at how am I still in one piece. I have foolishly walked around on my own at night time down streets that I wouldn't go down in my own city. I have walked along the river in pitch darkness with water on one side and disused warehouses and creepy, seemingly abandoned hotels and houses on the other. I've nearly soiled myself on several occasions when a dog has run up to a yard fence barking. I am so surprised I haven't been raped or attacked. Which leads me to wonder - is it just Western civilsation that has to deal with these problems? Are we hyping them up more than necessary so that everyone's walking round unjustifiably scared? If a guy follows me more than two blocks at night time in England, I usually have my phone in my hand with 99 already dialled. I don't want to bring my daughters up in a society like this, or to have to tell my sons to be cautious so that they don't ever get mistaken for a would-be rapist.
I blame cities. I'm sure if we were all living on farms in the countryside there'd be less problems. All the wannabe rapists could take it out on their sheep. All the loons who thinks it's funny to act mental around a young woman sitting in a bistro trying to read a book could just piss off their sheep instead. Problem solved!!

What the hell is the point of having a blogging service if people are going to twist your words to fit their own hysteria and accuse you of various outlandish activities? I have just deleted my old account and started a new one because someone got the wrong end of the stick by reading something I had written. Honestly, women today!! If you want to stalk me, do it via facebook like everyone else. I am using this as my own personal diary to share my thoughts and feelings with the great unknown. The whole point of talking to strangers is that they are strangers. I can tell a computer screen stuff I would never tell anyone else, because I know there's a rare chance it will ever come back to bite me.
Apologies to anyone reading this who thinks I'm a fruitcake. You'd be right, of course, but I apologise all the same. I have been angry for two hours now and it has made me very hungry. I'm off to wallow in chocolatey despair...