Holiday — cracked tooth — meh!

I was on holiday last year — went to the USA. I went with some girlfriends. It was a strange kind of adventure as we booked two weeks off of work, packed our bags… and went down to the airport. We didn’t have any tickets… we just waited for the first cancellation to occur.

We sat in the airport for about 18 hours before we got our break. What’s more… we got business class seats!! How awesome is that!? We arrived about 10 hours later… we were beat, as we’d been traveling 28 hours in total. We stayed at the first hotel we found and slept for about 12 hours!

The trip was set to be the best one ever. We were in Lexington… we had all the time in the world and no place to be. First stop… we needed to eat. We found a burger bar — I ordered a triple cheese burger and my friend just went for a single. I bit into my burger, i heard a crunch and I felt a lot of pain. Yeah… i’d chipped a tooth.

The waiter knew something was up and he came straight over. We got a full refund and he even pointed me in the direction of the best dentist in lexington ma. We caught a cab and we were there in no time. All I had to do was confirm my medical insurance (i’m so glad i got some) and I was seen too in no time.

Dentist, injected me, I was numb in minutes and he began drilling away. The whole episode from start to finish lasted about an hour! Unbelievable!

We decided to go steady with food the following day. I stuck to the soup and my friend had a salad… we both followed up with some vanilla ice cream.

What’s wrong with my nose anyway!?

Just got home from work and I’m fuming. I’ve been sat next to this jerk of a guy — some surgeon who does plastic surgery. I managed to get a seat on the train — I sat next to this guy, who seemed OK. We chatted… you know… the usual crap: How’s your day been? Where are you from? Did you see the game? Blah, blah, blah. The smallest of small talk… you get the picture.

Let me be clear… I was in one of those moods where I could have quite happily sat in silence until I got off… BUT this guy was just yammerin’. I wasn’t too fussed until he started talking about my nose. Like ‘… are you happy with your nose?’ What do you say to that? ‘I’m sorry?’ I replied. He continued to tell me about Rhinoplasty Exeter, which is his surgery. He started talking about how he could reshape it and so on.

Where does this guy get off? You can’t go around telling people you’ve just met that you can perform plastic surgery on their nose to improve it. I felt like punching the guy in the crotch!

I quite like my nose. A guy I used to see said it was my best feature… among others… but we wont go there ;). It’s a pointy but perfectly proportioned appendage, even if I do say so myself. What’s more… if you’d seen the guy on the train you’d killed yourself through laughing. Think Woody the Woodpecker meets Professor Clump and you’ll get an idea of the kind of monstrosity that was his nose. Maybe he should spend less time annoying people like me and more time figuring out how he can operate on his own hooter!

Right, I’m off. I apologize for the angry post… but I’m just so mad! I promise that I’ll be more civil in future posts.

Another post about a guy I met… because… yeah

I got chatting to a guy who travels on the same route as me in the mornings. It started out by just bumping into him every once in a while. Then, one morning, he was like ‘… do you intentionally try to knock me over in the mornings…’ My first reaction was ‘who’s this idiot?’ but when I looked at him… i could tell he was joking around with me. He was cute! I laughed and that was that. I saw him a few days later… and we started chatting. Our commute is about thirty minutes, so after a month or so… we kinda knew each other relatively well AND we got on.

We became friends and we kinda ventured into that ‘… attraction zone…’ He was married (I noticed his wedding band), so I figured it was just friendly chit chat. (Why are all the best ones taken?) Anyway… what are the signs a married man wants you? I mean… if i didn’t know better… I’d say he wanted me… who wouldn’t — I’m a catch! I like to think I’m too fussy… yeah… that’s my problem — fussiness.

Moving on. If I’m honest… I’m toying with the idea of asking him out for a drink… is that a step too far? How would I feel if it was my husband? Yeah… maybe it is a step too far. I do enjoy our chats. We’ve been talking about the intricacies of Brexit lately. All I can say is… what a flaming mess we’re in. He knows his stuff too — he told me about all the pros and cons about the UK’s exit from the EU and what it will mean for the future. It’s actually very interesting… I bet it has something to do with his job… I should ask! Maybe that’s too intrusive — argh! I just don’t know.

Air con guy — mmmmmmm.

It’s summer here and it’s hot as hell. Very few places bother to invest in air con though… god only knows why. I sweat like a pig in the winter so it comes as no surprise that i’m a ball of sweat meat by the time i get to work in the summer months.

Thankfully, my office has got air con. We have these huge, ceiling-mounted units that say ‘Snowman split system air conditioners‘. I don’t know who they are or what they do… all i know is that those little babies pump out loads of cool, sweat-absorbing, totally yummy, fresh air.

My boss has caught me stud under them many a time with my arms raised high as i try to dry off my sweaty pits. I was embarrassed the first… hmmm… fifty times… but we’re both used to it now… so why stop now.

An added perk of having these units is that they have to get serviced twice a year. We have them technician come in to do the work. He is GORGEOSE. I literally cannot concentrate on my work when he’s in the office. I’ve tried to catch his eyes many a time… but he’s always too busy. He must love his job… or be gay…

One time, the air con unit got stuck on max over the weekend — lol. When we got into the office it was like a winter wonderland! Penguins would have been at home in the office. I actually had to go home and pick up my winter jacket. We took a picture of all the staff in their winter gear, which was so funny as it was the middle of summer.

Any way… enough of my waffle, i’m off to bed now. I’ve got another funny story for you… but it can wait.

Don’t drink and drive. Drink and paint!

OMG! I had the best weekend. A girlfriend and I ended up going to an event — paint and sip asbury park. I’m guessing you can figure out where it is… but the ‘sip’ bit may throw you.

Basically, there a workshop that has been designed for all us arty, drinky types. We paid 50 bucks and were set loose with a tonne of read wine, a few gallons of premium emulsion paint, some paint brushes and loads of virgin wall space to go crazy with. It sounds kinda weird right… but it’s an absolute hoot. My friend and I started out actually trying to be like serious artists. Carefully picking our paints and brushes. Taking long sips of wine while considering who we were going to enlighten our surroundings. My first painting wasn’t half bad either. We even collaborated on a very nice portrait of a local park — it was very inspired. A few bottles of fermented grape juice later… well… it was a totally different story. We soon progressed onto silly stuff… and I mean silly. I’d be lying if i said that there wasn’t the odd cock picture thrown in… yeah… very immature. You’ve gotta know that we were on our fourth bottle by then.

By the end of the night, there was more paint on us than on the walls. We were quite literally covered in the stuff. I’m pretty sure I drank some as well! So… what’s to be made of all this? Well… I’m not quite sure… maybe cause I can’t remember most of the event. Something tells me they should dial back on the wine and focus a little more on the painting. I also wonder if they managed to scrub off the five-foot tall picture of… shall we say… maleness… that I drew on one of the walls — lol.