Well I've officially started MS221 and it wasn't nearly as scary as I thought it would be.  Sure I'm only on the first section still but it makes sense which is a jolly good start... I've not totally forgotten everything I learnt last year which is a big fat relief!!!  I mustn't speak too soon mind.  It could all go downhill fast.

Well now, the flight over today wasn't too bad.  There was some turbulence and they did have to bung the seatbelt sign on somewhere over Dublin but surprisingly it didn't bother me.  Take off and coming in to land were the only scary bits with the plane wibbling all over the place.  I did have to fan myself with my magazine a smidge on the way up.  Thought I might pass out.  Ehem.  Apart from that it was fine.  I had an aisle seat right at the back which meant that the fine specimen of man a few rows ahead provided excellent daydream fodder.  I think our eyes met over the full plane, he asked me out at the carousel and we larked around the city.  Oh and he sent me flowers at work and at the hotel for V-day.  <Sigh>  It was a marvellous little daydream.  Good job people can't read minds.

You know what?  I think I want to go on a roller coaster.  Hm.

I have decided to scare myself silly.  I've got Most Haunted on.  With the lights off.  Well, most of the lights off.  I dug out some fairy lights from the cupboard today and hung them back up. Well they're pretty.  Note to self: buy lava lamp as less Christmassy.

Now, do you think your common everyday ghost from way back when is going to know what an astral being is? 

Yvette:    Is there aaaannnnybody theeeereeee?  Are there any astral beings present?

Ghost 1:  'Ere, Doris, do you think they're talking to us?

Ghost 2:  I dunno Charles.  Are you an astral being?

Ghost 1:  Well, I don't know.  Isn't that a kind of oil?

Ghost 2:  No no, that's Castrol. 

Ghost 1:  Oh

Ghost 2:  Hell, let's scare them anyway!

Ooo it's suddenly gone very cold in here.... I hope my resident ghost Mrs Calf isn't watching too.  I wonder if ghosts find Yvette Fielding amusing.

I simply must confess.  I'm currently hyperventilating with lust.  That dishy man who played Henry VIII in The Tudors is in a film on two at the mo with the most primmest of English accents.  Currently he's romping around a field in the rain getting soaked.  Swoon swoon swoon. 

Today I shamed myself.  In the library of all places.  I scoured the shelves of the 'for sale' items - sometimes you can find a gem that doesn't smell of mildew or old person.  And I did.  I opened the hardback book, laughed out loud and knew that, at the bargain price of 20p, this cracker had to be mine.  Then I saw the CD.  I looked at it, glanced furtively around me, ummed and ahhed and then just hoped that no-one would judge me at the counter when I handed over the empty CD case and the shiny pound coin.  So there I was, at the counter with queue of people behind me, buying (oh why am I admitting this?) a Girls Aloud cd.  Well it's a good 'jump around when excited' CD.  Moving swiftly on.  And the fabulous hardback book I purchased for the princely sum of 20p?  That'll be a book called "The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog!".  Yes.  It's a kid's book.  A pigeon, finding a hotdog?  With a chick that wants to know if it tastes like chicken.  It's the most bizarre book I've read in a long time, regardless of the fact it took a whopping two minutes to read.  The pictures are cracking...   I don't think anyone at the counter noticed.  And if they did, so what?  I can buy Girls Aloud and a kid's book can't I?  I did take out a couple of proper books too to give the impression that I am a real grown up.

Oh wow.  I did a google search and this book is the sequel to "Don't let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!".  That's mad! 

Oh look, Mr Luscious Lips (Henry VIII) man is getting his kit off again.  Marvellous!  Although his bit of fluff has lovely shelves!  No, serious, floor to ceiling shelves.  Lovely.  I'd love a room with a wall of shelves.  <Cue daydream of light and airy flat with white library room furnished with comfy sofa and huge chocolate coloured cushions.  And a low coffee table... with a smashing white teapot with multi-coloured dots on.  And a plate of biscuits, perhaps Jammie Dodgers...>

Change of plan.  Mr Phwoar is no longer Mr Phwoar.  His character just shot someone.  There's nothing quite like a spot of murder to make said man unattractive.  How disappointing.  He'll look terrible in prison scrubs.  Not even his fabulous cheekbones will save him now.

I sat next to a man that says he designs airplanes today.  It was pretty windy when we took off (the plane bounced all over the place and that was when we were just stationary) and was really rather scary.  The chap said "I wouldn't worry.  These things are designed to fly through hurricanes.  This is nothing."  'Well jolly good', I thought, 'I'll stop crapping myself immediately'. 

The air steward lady offered me some shortbread when I bought my cuppa.  Now was she offering it because I looked terrified and it's nice to give free stuff to people?  Or would she have charged me?  It was very confusing.   She didn't offer anyone else shortbread.  It was very specific.  "Would you like a wee piece of shortbread there?".  Like when you pop round someone's house and they say "would you like a ginger nut?".  "Ooo yes please Morris" you reply (why Morris?  I have no idea.  It just came to me) and swiftly nab a biscuit.  And then they say "That'll be £3.29 please!".  "Eh?".  That Morris sounds like a bit of a rip off really.  I must remember never to go there.

Oh damn, I forgot to pat the plane when we landed.  Yes.  I pat the plane.  As if to say "cheers for getting us here old girl".  I assume the planes are female as they're pretty reliable (touching wood immediately), noisy and hard-working.  I know, I know, that was incredibly sexist of me.  Yada yada. 

Whilst coming in to land today the plane wobbled, bumped and creaked all over the place.  And although I'm sure other passengers were thinking about Heathrow the only words going through my head were "I hope we don't crash, I really need a wee....".

They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.  But I confess I do.  (I do sometimes read the first page, though, before waggling it at the librarian).  I've just finished reading a book.  And I have to say I picked it purely on the fact that it had glitter on the cover.  Yes.  It sparkled and provoked an "ooooo".  It was as simple as that.  Good job I don't live near a jewellers.  Or even a tinfoil factory.  "Yes, please, I'll have FIFTY rolls of your finest aluminium wrap please.  Preferably the damaged stock....if it's crinkled it sparkles more....".  But anyway, I'm rambling.  So I read this book and have just finished it.  As in about three minutes ago.  This book showed promise.  There were plenty of "awwwww how romantic" moments and I occasionally gazed into space and daydreamed about various romantic scenarios, re-running them with several different (potential but highly unlikely) suitors (it's interesting how you can picture one person doing something but not another).  The book also had plenty of "what a total b*stard!" moments (which generally happened when I was sat reading in public.  Have you noticed how paranoid people are when they're close to someone talking aloud to themselves?  So, anyway, this book was good.  Until the end.  Where it seemed that the author decided "you know what?  I'm desperate for a pee and just can't be bothered to type anymore so I think I'll write a really lame ending in one page and be done with it...".  I mean, it's great that she binned off the rubbish man and was whisked off by a knight in shining armour - cue historic daydream involving handsome man with the cross of St George over his chainmail - but she got into a lift.  And the lift was the metaphor of her transport to a new life ahead (with said handsome chappie).  Or thereabouts.  Well that metaphor won't work for me.  The lifts here at the Holiday Bin are bloody scary wobbly things.  When I am in one (oh yes, I have been conquering the lift phobia.... when you're on the fifth floor laziness overcomes) I find myself wondering if it is safer to be at the edge of the car or in the centre if it suddenly plummeted to the ground.  Would it make a difference?

Someone did a google-search on sand and sausages.... and ended up at my blog!  How bizarre!

I first thought that perhaps the hotel wasn't the most modern when they handed me a key at check in.  I've not seen a real key at a hotel for yonks.  Ok.  Then next there was the interesting journey to my room on the 1st floor.  I tend to take the entire world in my suitcase and being the self-confessed weakling that I am I struggled to get up the stairs (there's no lift).  That was a bit of fun.  Of course then we had the game of working out which of the hundreds of switches belonged to which light.  The people in the service station car park outside got themselves a little light display there.  A quick trip to the bathroom and I saw the lowest toilet in the world.  Was it perhaps designed for small children I wonder?  Then, of course, was the standard hunt around to see what freebies one can nick.  I'll not be running off with the shower cap and that's pretty much the only option.  I'm quite amused about the tea and coffee being in a butter dish and the TV remote with no markings on.  Oh and the duvet cover with a jolly big bit missing from it.  Hm. 

Being organised I thought I'd set the alarm on the TV already so I didn't forget.  I entered the time successfully (after finding my past the pay-to-view porn and the minor panic that pressing the wrong button would result in witnessing the very expensive Busty Betty doing her thing) now all I had to do was "press the OK button to confirm".  Well that's just great.  But there's no OK button on this remote.  So I rang my colleague, in another room.  "Which button is the OK button SJ?".  "It's under the triangle-shaped buttons".  "What triangle shaped buttons?".  So I gave up on the alarm idea.

I turned round, the little message light was lit on my room phone.  How exciting!  I'd got a message!  After a short daydream about who it could be and what it was about (Johnny Depp'd heard I was staying and wanted to see me - well, he could be in Bristol.... there was a bunch of flowers in reception.... the hotel wanted to give me free access to the WiFi...) I hunted round for instructions of how to access said fabulous message.  I couldn't find any (only a sheet of A4 type in a plastic sleeve which also housed an unsavoury hair.  Ewwwww gross) so I rang reception.  But alas no.  "Sorry madam that's actually a fault".  Oh how disappointing.

But all is forgiven because I discovered shortbread biscuits.  Huzzah!

I had another driving lesson today.  Toodled on up the dual-carriageway (which I thought was an excellent first attempt on that stretch of road but the instructor wasn't happy with my modest 55mph.  It was my first time, less is more sometimes.  That's my excuse) and then ended up somewhere (?) to do a reverse round a corner.  Now I have a bit of a problem.  I can't actually see the curb.  Or any of it.  Hm.  I'm a bit too short I think.  There was this suicidal cat.  It decided to keep walking in the bit of road I was reversing round.  It just sorted minced around in a "I'm a cat.  I know I'm in your way.  I don't actually care to be honest.  I'm going to take all the time in the world so I am.  Because I can.  I'm a cat don't you know?" way.  If you squinted your eyes up a bit you could have imagined it was a small tiger (a very small fat tiger).  I must remember not to do that on the driving test.

Examiner: "Just pull up on the left Melanie and I'd like you to reverse around the corner when it is safe to do so". 

Me: "Right-oh Mr examiner man.  The left, that's that way isn't it?".  (The difference between left and right still eludes me at 28)

Examiner: "Er, yes". 

Me: "Jolly good.  Right". 

<Pulls up ready to do manoeuvre> 

Examiner: "Erm, in your own time". 

<Waits, car remains stationary> 

Examiner: "Ehem, er, when you're ready Melanie" 

<Waits some more> 

Examiner: "Is everything ok Melanie?" 

<Examiner turns to look and sees me squinting in the rear-view mirror> 

Me: "That stray dog there...." <points> "if you close your eyes a bit and blur your vision that actually looks like a Shetland pony.  Weird huh?" 

Examiner: "This is not appropriate for the test"

<moment of silence>

Examiner: "Oh yes.  So it does". 

Obviously then I'd do a most magnificent reverse round the corner, without running anything or anyone over and pass the test superbly.  Or, as is more the likelihood, not.

p.s. don't ask me why I drew a picture.  I have NO idea.

Shock.  Horror.  Amazement.  Finally I sorted out my fish tank. I know!  You might wish to sit down as I have.  It's only taken me, what?  Four and a half months to scrub it since I emptied it back at the end of August?!  Thinking about it that's actually pretty terrible.  Shame on me.  In my defence I can say, however, that because it was bone dry it was much easier to clean - and quicker.  Oh ok, that's a pretty poor excuse yes?  In all honesty I'll admit, I'm no housewife (well, apart from the obvious fact that I'm not a wife either but, well, you understand what I'm saying I expect).  I mean, I did hoover on New Years Eve.  I figured at the time that I ought to start the year afresh.... new year new dust and all that.

I got the Amy MacDonald album today - This Is The Life.  It's fantastic.  I danced around the flat a little bit while I cleaned.  (It's been an exhausting day....!).

I'm curious now.  I'm using Windows Live Writer (so I can ramble in my hotel room just as if I were at home - except at home I can't order room service and force the chap delivering my food to talk to me.  I suppose I could actually. Order pizza.  Hm.  This is an avenue of potential exploration methinks) and it says I can insert an image.  Ooo.  I'm going to try.... here's a random picture:

I wonder, will it work?  I have to find out immediately.

Here I am, sat in bed at the Express By Holiday Inn Bristol North and am feeling rather put off.  Now this might be perfect if you were...er... with a person that you were... er... having some hanky panky with.  Add a bit of spice and all that.  But I don't need to be sitting opposite myself.  It's certainly a strategically placed mirror. 

What a marvellous day!  I had lunch with the folks in Torquay and dad got pooed on by a seagull when we were in Paignton!  But it wasn't just a little incident.  Oh no.  That bird had had curry for tea or something.  Dad was covered!!!!  He didn't seem too convinced when I pointed out it's deemed good luck.  In fact I think he swore.  Hahaha!  I shan't tell him that mum laughed hysterically when I rang her this afternoon and told her!!!   "Oh no Mel, I shouldn't laugh.... but HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!  Don't tell him I laughed...."  Of course not mum....

Returning to the resolutions, I've gone and bought a nice wee sketchbook to travel with so I've no excuse.  I've also bought a new travel paint set as my last one is nearly spent.  I got a bit carried away with the sketchbook.... it's a nice A6 one with a suede cover and tie thingie.  But any fear that it might be too nice to use has been dashed because I've gone and made a fabulous mess in it already.  :D

Aw I don't want to take my Christmas lights down :(  They make my flat all cosy.  Maybe I could take them down (as it's bad luck to leave them up), leave them down for a few days while I'm away... and then put them back up?  Would that work?  Hm. 

Right, I must pack.  Off to Bristol for a few days tomorrow.  Oh how I've missed the Holiday Inn food.....<cough, splutter>  x

Well another year has arrived!  They just keep on coming!  Taking a look at last year's resolutions I actually managed to stick to one!  That'll be the buying-myself-flowers-regularly one.  Well it was rather easy to do.  So, here are this year's:

1) Keep a sketchbook on me at all times - and use it daily!

2) Try to say yes, where possible, to all invites

3) Start MS221 and study as hard as possible, working to the best of my ability - attend every tutorial if practically possible

4) Sort through my flat and make it a haven of calm.  And try and keep it that way...!

5) Pass my driving test!!!

6) Finish the Banana and send it off - hopefully it'll be selected to be exhibited and appear in a book

7) Continue to buy flowers - maybe get a vase for my Belfast desk....!

Seven nice realistic achievable resolutions (there are some deep and meaningful ones too but I shan't bore anyone here with them).  I'll stop biting my nails next year...