Couple of random ol' days I've had. Yesterday I decided to take my bum into Liverpool for a bit of shopping with my birthday money. Came home with a piercing. As you do. I love bus rides sometimes. Well, usually when the bus isn't full of children. Or teenagers. Or old people. Or tramps that smell. Basically, bus journeys are fun when I'm the only person on the bus (aside from the driver obviously) Mind you, when it is just me and the driver, I do start to wonder at the back of my mind, this guy could just go drive down a dark alley and kill me. Then I realise how inconspicuous a bus would be going up a small country lane. But, I digress.
This bus journey was not particularly eventful. Couple of small children at the back of the bus, screeching. Makes a change from the usual 12 year olds I hear talking about their sex lives and how much they drank at the weekend. Whilst wearing their hair in bunches and I <3 Justin Bieber t-shirts. So anyway, in go the headphones and on goes the music and for 50 minutes I pretend that people don't exist. Except for the couple of amusing incidents I witnessed while gazing out of the window. A man that almost took himself out by jogging into a bus stop and another man whose dog was seemingly too big for him to handle and tried to pull him into the road.
After a bit of (failed) shopping and a beautiful Nandos (God bless those chickens) I took myself off to a tattoo parlour. As you can imagine, the people in there looked like a walking canvas. A guy with as many piercings as I have knickers, took me to a room which I can only really describe as a "mental asylum" type place with a kind of medicated feeling about it. Not to mention the smell of disinfectant. Which I suppose, isn't exactly a bad thing. Before this guy, whom I was trusting to pierce a very visible part of my face, had even got his gloves on, he delighted in telling me that his mate had just rubbed Tiger Balm in his eyes and he couldn't see properly because it was stinging. Needless to say, that wasn't overly helpful. I wasn't nervous at all as my darling sister, who also has her nose pierced said "It doesn't hurt, I had to ask if they'd finished doing mine." So there I am, sat there fairly confident and unusually optimistic. The guy starts taking bits out of sterile packaging like the stud, the clamp, the giant needle... I didn't anticipate a needle quite so big but I thought if I just man up, I'll be fine. On went the clamp, then as if he had no air of hesitation about him, in some sort of gung-ho fashion, he shoved this needle right through my nose. Through my watering eyes, I just about managed to see him cutting off the tube with the piercing in. And, I'm not going to lie (and I have been through labour and given birth) it hurt like HELL. Mentally, I was back-handing my sister across the face wishing I had gone in with my usual pessimistic attitude. But it was done in two minutes and off I went on my merry way.
After a long bus ride home, I couldn't help but notice that one of the women on the bus looked like she was geared up for a murder. After she stepped in front of me to get off the bus, I saw that all she had purchased on her shopping trip was a mop bucket, a mop, a bottle of bleach and a spade. I remember laughing heartily in my head but in a kind of nervous way. As in, I was going to see her on the next series of Crimewatch and I don't think I'm ready for the responsibility of knowing I was in some way, a witness. So, like any good British Citizen would do, I walked off without a second thought to her potential victim.
Here is the infamous new piercing...
Cut to today. 7.30am start. On a Sunday. It should be banned by law, but infact I was up so I could get ready to do my bit for charity. I was doing Race for Life with a friend of mine (for anyone that doesn't know, it's a women's only event to raise money for Cancer Research and is a 5K walk. Or run if you're one of those types) Obviously we dressed up like pink fairies. Fairy wings, neon pink tutu's, neon pink legwarmers, neon pink tops... you get the picture. So the race started at 9am in Chester so off we went. Got there on time, from a distance we could see the huge sea of pink. But nothing is ever simple with us. No change for the car park. We dashed around like headless chickens trying to find another parking spot, trying to find a cash machine, having to get change from a shop... Eventually we made it to the starting line. And everyone had vanished. Cue us having to find the back of the line manually. And pretty much doing 5K in the process. After finding the line and being heckled by the DJ calling us cheaters (if only he knew how far we'd walked to get there he would not have been messing with two angry fairies) we finally started the walk properly. Another 3K later, after dancing to a rather awesome steel type band in the park and me feeling terrible for complaining my shoes were rubbing after I saw a very brave woman in a headscarf whose sign said she was racing for herself, we actually made it to the finish line. After about an hour and a half. I was starving so went searching in the goodie bags we got and found a packet of biscuits. I opened them and they all fell on the floor. Note to self: Stop being so overly ravenous. Lesson learnt.
Hiking back into town, we were granted our positive karma by being given a free cheeseburger in McDonalds, along with our meals. Big Mac meal and free cheeseburger both down (and the contemplation of giving the other free cheeseburger to a homeless man to keep the chain of karma going) we headed home, half heartedly raving to some 90's tunes in the car.
I am now shoving raspberry Millions in my face, waiting for my mother to cook for me. She may have fractured her wrist but she can still cook right? Well whatever, I donated her some food and therefore we're equal in that deal. I suppose I best go make myself useful and write out these Fathers Day cards for my father so I can give them to him when I got to my mother's. Then later I shall come home, veg out watching Desperate Housewives and then, my friends, it will be bedtime. I love my bed. More than anything in the world. Probably won't tell Grace that though...
Au Revoir :)
Winning pose of the day:
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