23 December 2005

Where you're at and where you want to be aren't always the same...

...for instance, I am in Edinburgh Airport nursing a monster hangover. I want to be in my bed. With a cup of tea. And perhaps a hobnob. I haven't had a hobnob in a million years, maybe more. I don't think I have any hobnobs at my house. Which is a total bummer, though worse things have happened in the world. I do have some Green and Black's Butterscotch chocolate. It's sitting in a drawer in my kitchen in London. Or at least, it should be sitting in a drawer in my kitchen in London. The presence of my aunt Cynthia in that kitchen may well mean that my chocolate has been sacrificed to the cravings of a 61-year-old twice divorced artists whose lunacy is wonderful but whose appetite for chocolate is frightening.

Revelations of the last two days:

The tasting yesterday was wonderful.

Pete's puppy's gotten BIG.

I'm a terrible poker player (thankfully I wasn't using real money).

Drinking all day with good mates is silly fun, but painful (I knew that). And it's the mates that make it fun. Not the drinking. That's what makes it silly.

I will never see everyone I need to when I get up to St Andrews.

Friends with truly dreadful music taste (McFly suck - the world needs to deal with this) are still friends. But try to keep them away from the stereo.

A tiny blonde behind the wheel of a giant Range Rover is funny. And silly. Especially if it's a mate.

Lara Crawford may be the world's cutest puppy. Even if she isn't puppy-sized anymore.

Sometimes I'm so hopelessly disorganised that I shouldn't be allowed any responsibility whatsoever. I had 3 important things to sort out in Scotland and failed to accomplish all of them. Granted, they weren't life or death things, but it makes me feel stupid. And a bit useless. And my mum's ill and that's no fun at Christmas. Well, it's no fun at any time really.

In a shock to my system it looks as though my flight is going to be on time.

I'm contemplating hobnobs still. They're great. Why don't I eat them anymore? Do they sell them at the airport? I shall soon find out.

My new headphones are awesome.

Pretty girls should smile more as it makes them prettier.

I'm babbling again.

1 comment:

St Nick (oh, and Rudolph, Vixen, and so on...) said...

Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas to you Mr Richard W.H.Bray. I am about to start my transworld annual jaunt and very much look forward to the glass of finest wine which awaits me at the foot of your chimney at Staithe. Merry Christmas to one and all and to all a Merry Christmas.