Dear Diary,
Well, that's it. It's over and done with. The good news is, I'm not up the stick. The bad news...... well, there is none. Although I kind of, a little bit, sort of, really really REALLY wish I hadn't laid all that on Joe the other night - instead of keeping schtum one more frigging day and therefore avoiding the whole "Dreaded Talk."
The game of "Spoilt little Rich Couple" went marvellously, by the way. The flat was stunning, "cosy" (ie: small) but very posh, with it's own balcony, 2 bedrooms and bathrooms, and a TARDIS-like kitchen. With the rest, lifts, foyers, marble floors, the works. Despite the classy boots I'd donned hobbling me to the point of agony, played it for all it was worth, telling the agent about how we were "freelance interpreters" who'd just be "employed by the city council" and looking to "settle down" after living in Stockport for a while. I'll say this for Joe - he sure can sound convincing. It felt amazing to be acting again. Felt a slight tinge of annoyance at not actually being able to afford said dream palace, but after all - I knew that going in, and at £300,000 ASKING PRICE, I wouldn't have gone for it anyway. (This is the part of the blog where you realise I'm totally full of shit. Who WOULDN'T live in a place like that if they could afford it??!)
Thankfully, during a little downtown brunch in which we both carefully skated around the "situation" but never talked about it - I was ambushed. Joe was diplomatic enough not to look too relieved as I came back from the loo, but I could tell we were both feeling it in waves. On one hand, it's good to know we're both on the same page, are mature enough to discuss it like adults and rely on each other for support. On the other hand, all I could think as we walked back to the car were two things:
a) "You stupid stupid BITCH!!!! Why did you TELL him instead of waiting one more day and taking a test??!!"
b) "Until I go to Costco and buy a YEAR'S supply of condoms, we are never having sex again"
And at the risk of sounding like the worst sort of cliche, I will admit that, for a while, I had sort of become accoustomed to the idea. Telling the news to excited friends and family. Getting to act like a total diva for 9 months. People doing things for you, and having an excuse to weigh more than usual. Shaun as an Uncle, Mum and Dad as Grandparents. A proud-looking Joe, his mates slapping him on the back, and a tiny pink little baby with his ginger hair, my curls, his blue eyes with the green around the pupil, his logical sensibility, and my imagination.
And then I thought about the life I'd have to plan, the money to support this, the restriction in work, the lack of sex life, the altered vagina, the leaking breasts, Mum's furious reaction, the agonising delivery, all the things that could possibly go wrong, not being able to drink wine or eat ANY KIND OF SHELLFISH for 9 months, the sleepless nights, the added baby weight to shift, the exhaustion, the fact that I'm still living with my parents - all on top of the fact that I'm only 23 and haven't even got a proper job yet.
And thanked God all the way home for the result I got. Because I'm not at all ready, really. Not yet.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Friday, 22 January 2010
Wednesday, 20 January 2010
Problems
Dear Diary,
As one of the first new blogs of the year, let me take this oppurtunity to make a pledge (not a New Year's Resolution, we all know I'd never keep it): To hereby make my blogs more frequent, more interesting, and less pretentious. Time to start again!
In keeping with my "more interesting" theme - I don't think it can get more interesting than this: a pointless exercise, a friend in trouble, and worst of all, a personal dilemna. Where to begin?
Pointless exercise: Having gone for a job interview the other day, Joe walked past an estate agents on the way home, and, upon seeing a listing for a beautiful £300,000 flat in the city centre, booked a viewing on Friday. I do love spontenaiety! Not to mention we're gonna pretend to be completely different (and rich) people, to convince them we're serious about buying. This is gonna be fun!
Friend in trouble: So, in keeping with the manner of our friendship (ie: her being in trouble and me being there to help), Marie called me on Monday to invite me round. Why? She'd been seeing her ex again as a "buddy" (this is the ex who dumped her by text and moaned about his feelings when she got attacked) and now thought she was pregnant. Which leads nicely into:
Personal Dilemna: You guessed it. As it stands, I am currently 5 days late..... and considering I'm normally like CLOCKWORK in that department, I'm pretty fucking worried by now. Obviously, you can't take a test until it's been a week, but not knowing is KILLING me. How does anyone STAND this??! I've been running to the loo every 5 minutes, every time I get a slight stomach ache or twinge...... and still nothing. To be honest, I'm bricking it. Because, who can I tell? Obviously, Mum, Dad and Shaun are ruled out. The next option, naturally, would be my friends, or Joe. But let's think about this: "Hi, how are you? Sooooooo..... glad to hear uni/work's going well, oh and by the way, I'm just a teensy bit nervous about this potential major life decision and I just fancied a chat about it. You free?"
And as for Joe.....? FORGET IT. I know, honesty is key, etc... but let's think about this: I tell him I may be pregnant - what then? He panics, we realise we have no money and I am in NO WAY ready for it. Maybe he argues this - you know, Catholics, pro-life, etc.... I say it's my decision, he says it's partly his, we argue, etc... etc.... When in reality, all I need to do is go to the doctor, drink what it is they give you (that makes you sick and the baby goes - I went in and asked) keep my mouth shut, and he need never know. But can I really DO that to him?? To be honest, I don't want to tell ANYONE about this. But all I really want is to just offload a little, and have a big hug. Joe's starting to realise something's wrong - I'm all distracted whenever he talks to me, and look worried all the time. Fuck me. How did this HAPPEN??
Monday night was spent out at the pub near Marie's - during which her ex was out, with a complete face on him - watching every drink she had (he knows, and is VERY much in favour of getting rid, whatever Marie's choice, the dickface). After 7 more hours of man-bashing (de rigeur at her house) we finally - FINALLY went to sleep, my head spinning.
The next morning I got a taxi to Joe's, begging to be allowed to sleep off my hangover, as Marie was headed for uni and I didn't quite want to go home yet. Ended up staying all day and having tea, after which we curled back up in his room. Somehow, the subject of babies came up - it turned into a hypothetical discussion about what would happen "in that case." And then it came out. Sobbing on his shoulder, I told him everything. To his credit he didn't freak out, get angry or have any other strong reaction. Diplomatically, he told me it was "my decision," and he'd go with whatever I chose. He didn't like the idea of "getting rid" (I know, such a horrible phrase), but assured me that if I wasn't ready, he'd stand by my choice and support me. The only thing he was annoyed about was that I hadn't told him sooner, and saved myself going through all this upset in solitude.
And now I'm stymied. I really haven't a clue what I want. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel or do. As Joe pointed out, if things went ahead, we'd obviously have no end of support from our families. But to consider having a baby without even a proper job or fixed abode? It's madness. And even thought the logical part of my brain is thinking this - there's another part giving me a little nudge, the part that shows me holding a gorgeous little ginger baby in one of those all-in-one babygros, teaching it Baby Sign Language and doing something valid and real with my life as opposed to the sweet fuck-all I've got going on at the moment.
I'm stupid, I know. I'm sentimental and idiotic, and this is all probably over nothing. But still - 5 days late? With no major changes or stress in my life to affect my cycle? Something isn't right in the state of Denmark. I just wish I FELT something - a little fluttering of joy or a constant prickle of panic and despair - instead of this..... nothingness. It's like I'm watching an episode of Corrie. Except with less reactions.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: stumped
Current Music: "Bella's Lullaby" - Twilight soundtrack
As one of the first new blogs of the year, let me take this oppurtunity to make a pledge (not a New Year's Resolution, we all know I'd never keep it): To hereby make my blogs more frequent, more interesting, and less pretentious. Time to start again!
In keeping with my "more interesting" theme - I don't think it can get more interesting than this: a pointless exercise, a friend in trouble, and worst of all, a personal dilemna. Where to begin?
Pointless exercise: Having gone for a job interview the other day, Joe walked past an estate agents on the way home, and, upon seeing a listing for a beautiful £300,000 flat in the city centre, booked a viewing on Friday. I do love spontenaiety! Not to mention we're gonna pretend to be completely different (and rich) people, to convince them we're serious about buying. This is gonna be fun!
Friend in trouble: So, in keeping with the manner of our friendship (ie: her being in trouble and me being there to help), Marie called me on Monday to invite me round. Why? She'd been seeing her ex again as a "buddy" (this is the ex who dumped her by text and moaned about his feelings when she got attacked) and now thought she was pregnant. Which leads nicely into:
Personal Dilemna: You guessed it. As it stands, I am currently 5 days late..... and considering I'm normally like CLOCKWORK in that department, I'm pretty fucking worried by now. Obviously, you can't take a test until it's been a week, but not knowing is KILLING me. How does anyone STAND this??! I've been running to the loo every 5 minutes, every time I get a slight stomach ache or twinge...... and still nothing. To be honest, I'm bricking it. Because, who can I tell? Obviously, Mum, Dad and Shaun are ruled out. The next option, naturally, would be my friends, or Joe. But let's think about this: "Hi, how are you? Sooooooo..... glad to hear uni/work's going well, oh and by the way, I'm just a teensy bit nervous about this potential major life decision and I just fancied a chat about it. You free?"
And as for Joe.....? FORGET IT. I know, honesty is key, etc... but let's think about this: I tell him I may be pregnant - what then? He panics, we realise we have no money and I am in NO WAY ready for it. Maybe he argues this - you know, Catholics, pro-life, etc.... I say it's my decision, he says it's partly his, we argue, etc... etc.... When in reality, all I need to do is go to the doctor, drink what it is they give you (that makes you sick and the baby goes - I went in and asked) keep my mouth shut, and he need never know. But can I really DO that to him?? To be honest, I don't want to tell ANYONE about this. But all I really want is to just offload a little, and have a big hug. Joe's starting to realise something's wrong - I'm all distracted whenever he talks to me, and look worried all the time. Fuck me. How did this HAPPEN??
Monday night was spent out at the pub near Marie's - during which her ex was out, with a complete face on him - watching every drink she had (he knows, and is VERY much in favour of getting rid, whatever Marie's choice, the dickface). After 7 more hours of man-bashing (de rigeur at her house) we finally - FINALLY went to sleep, my head spinning.
The next morning I got a taxi to Joe's, begging to be allowed to sleep off my hangover, as Marie was headed for uni and I didn't quite want to go home yet. Ended up staying all day and having tea, after which we curled back up in his room. Somehow, the subject of babies came up - it turned into a hypothetical discussion about what would happen "in that case." And then it came out. Sobbing on his shoulder, I told him everything. To his credit he didn't freak out, get angry or have any other strong reaction. Diplomatically, he told me it was "my decision," and he'd go with whatever I chose. He didn't like the idea of "getting rid" (I know, such a horrible phrase), but assured me that if I wasn't ready, he'd stand by my choice and support me. The only thing he was annoyed about was that I hadn't told him sooner, and saved myself going through all this upset in solitude.
And now I'm stymied. I really haven't a clue what I want. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel or do. As Joe pointed out, if things went ahead, we'd obviously have no end of support from our families. But to consider having a baby without even a proper job or fixed abode? It's madness. And even thought the logical part of my brain is thinking this - there's another part giving me a little nudge, the part that shows me holding a gorgeous little ginger baby in one of those all-in-one babygros, teaching it Baby Sign Language and doing something valid and real with my life as opposed to the sweet fuck-all I've got going on at the moment.
I'm stupid, I know. I'm sentimental and idiotic, and this is all probably over nothing. But still - 5 days late? With no major changes or stress in my life to affect my cycle? Something isn't right in the state of Denmark. I just wish I FELT something - a little fluttering of joy or a constant prickle of panic and despair - instead of this..... nothingness. It's like I'm watching an episode of Corrie. Except with less reactions.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Current Mood: stumped
Current Music: "Bella's Lullaby" - Twilight soundtrack
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Literally!!!
Dear Diary,
Dearie me, dear diary. What a LOT of recapping I have to get through!! Such are the perils of leaving it so long, I suppose.
Well I GUESS I should pick up where I left off - poised, trembling and excited, on the brink of Christmas Eve. Town was virtually buzzing, as I headed to meet and Joe and co. for drinks. Nothing to write home about really - my dress was complimented a LOT, it was great to see his friends again, I got quite drunk and had my photo taken with a group of lads dressed as turkeys. Matt headed off for Midnight Mass and soon after Joe put me in a taxi.
Christmas Day - Well, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! Being a family of traditions, we had the good old woken-up-by-brother-jumping-on-bed before going downstairs to open our stockings. Which, obviously, is now a bit of a tongue-in-cheek joke, a metaphor, basically, for Mum and Dad's presents. Anyway, soon after we munched bacon and egg butties before getting ready to visit the godparents (again, the uncle of which inevitably snuck me a triple vodka when I asked for a single).
I'll be honest - I love the O'Donnell Christmas Day Traditions, I fucking love them. Stocking, breakfast, visit to godparents, home for present loading, off to Christmas Day location. Exactly the same every year, and consistantly brilliant. But sometimes, traditions, although supposed to stay the same, can sometimes improve with a minor addition. And that's why it was such a brilliant feeling seeing Joe pull up outside as we were loading the car with presents, and adding his own bin bag to the pile.
Well, what to say? We were at Auntie and Dan's this year, and the food was phenomenal. Obviously we had the old (crackers, terrible jokes) mixed with the new (lobsters and squid for starters) - and the family, I'm staggeringly proud to say, did everything to make Joe incredibly welcome, god love them. Even if it did mean Grandma insisting on sitting next to him and nudging him everytime she told a joke (because nudging makes your hearing louder, evidently).
Funny Story: Grandma nearly didn't make it this year, thanks to the country-stopping but incredibly stunning White Christmas we received. After a tearful phone call from her on Christmas Eve ("I can't make it over love, it's the snow, I can't even make it down the drive. You'll have to miss me out...."), Mum and Dad unanimously decided "bollocks to that," drove all the way out to her house and straight to the rescue, armed with a whole tank of petrol and a sledge to tow her down the drive.
Funny Christmas Day Quote:
Grandma: (*offering cracker*) "Would you like to pull a cracker, Joe?"
Joe: (*looking at me*) "I already have!"
Dan: "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!"
Me: "Awwwww!"
Shaun and Mum: (*fake vomitting noises*)
Anyhow, after lunch, Joe joined Shaun, Auntie and yours truly for another grand tradition - setting the presents out where everyone was sitting. Half an hour and a big pile of paper later, and we were a very chuffed group of people.
Best Presents:
Ipod docking station (Mum and Dad) - YESSSSS!!! Been after one for AGES.
Links charm bracelet (Mum and Dad) - Apparently a huge make. Feel v. guilty but thrilled
Frankie Boyle's autobiography (Joe) - The introduction alone had me pissing myself in Waterstones
Jigsaw toy model (Joe) - A little "inside joke," he said. I do love them Saw films!
Family Guy Season 8 DVD (Shaun) - Freakin' SWEET!
Glittery Michael Jackson t-shirt (Auntie)
Swarovski Crystal Star Christmas Tree decoration (Grandma)
Afterwards we lay in a slightly drunken slump, occasionally looking at presents or listening to a little Joe vs. Family minor not-really-meant-at-all tiff: "You shouldn't have got me presents!" "Yeah, well you shouldn't have got US presents!" Eventually, we went home, Shaun went to work, and me, Mum, Dad and Joe fell asleep watching "Blackadder" repeats.
Despite being forbidden by Mum (HOW old am I again??!!) I snuck in to share a few minutes squashed up with Joe, who was to have my bed for the night. Have you ever tried to share a single bed between 2 people? Don't. It's bloody uncomfortable, no matter how "romantic" it may seem. Still, we faked sleep when Mum came upstairs, and had to physically restrain our "drilling the road" laughing shoulders everytime Mum blew her nose (it sounds like a foghorn, even through the wall).
NEW YEAR: New Year's Eve was simply AMAZING. In case I didn't explain - we (i.e: my and many other families - all friends of Mum and Dad's and Shaun's football team) spent it in a charming cabin up in the Lake District, basking in the shadow of about 16 snow-covered mountains. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Following a late night (shift at the pub) Joe - who was, of course, invited - came to pick me up and slept over at ours. The family had already headed up earlier that day, so had the house to ourselves.
Next morning (New Year's Eve) came way too soon as Joe rudely decided to wake me up at 7 (SEVEN!!! The drive only took 2 hours, why so motherfenkin' EARLY??!) to set off. 2 hours later, and we were stuck halfway up the most perilously icy hill known to MANKIND, with some dickheads in cars blocking the way, Joe swearing his head off in frustration, and the cabin, tantalisingly visible at the top of the hill. Luckily, thanks to the sheer willpower of Joe's little Saab, we made it, not only zooming up the hill but bagging the best parking spot (ie: right in front of the front door). Good times!
After sausage and egg butties (a known remedy for waking up yours truly) we were dragged off for a "fun walk." Actually, I say that in sarcasm, but it was pretty breathtaking - walking through huge snow covered mountains, almost completely untouched. Made it halfway up as well! Joe went on ahead to the top (well, he IS an outdoors type!) as Mum and I breathlessly made our way back to the cabin from the halfway point. On the way back, I scratched little arrows (for when the others headed back) and my initials into the snow with my walking stick. When Joe found me later, back at the cabin curled up in my pyjamas, he told me he'd put his own initials, plus a heart, next to mine. Awww! Wonder if they're still up there? It has been an unfeasibly cold December.......
After a good bout of everyone lazing about and cuddling up for a few hours (me reading the 4th Twilight book, Joe watching Shaun and his mates play table tennis) the New Year celebrations were underway. Well, you know how it goes, the drinks, the partying, the table tennis tournaments. Joe for some reason kept going outside for some alone time - which naturally made me paranoid no end. Was he enjoying himself? Did he want to be elsewhere? Did he find meeting the giant influx of friends, family, and friends of family too much? Hmmm..... Most likely he just wanted to get away from the constant shrieking to gaze on the snowy splendour of the valley view before the cabin - which, to be fair, was one of the most gorgeous things ever.
Still, midnight rolled around. We drank champagne with unfolding sugar roses fizzing at the bottom, worked our way round the "kissing" circle, sang Auld Lang Syne and danced for a bit (an event in itself as Joe NEVER dances). What I WASN'T expecting was when we went to bed, hoping for a sleepless night (if you catch my drift) and literally getting one. Due to my incredibly masterful and cunning plan, Joe and I were to be sleeping on a double bed (well, 2 singles pushed together) behind a curtain in the main lounge, away from other people, and free to do whatever we wanted. What I DIDN'T count on were Shaun and his mates staying in the kitchen, playing music at full volume and running around for 3 HOURS after everyone else retired. I lay there miserably in the dark as Joe angrily muttered about going home the next day, as he couldn't lose anymore sleep.
And just for a moment, despite lying in the arms of a man I loved, in the snowy mountains, surrounded by family and friends, I wished that I could be with someone who was just a whole lot less sensitive and quick-tempered about things sometimes. And then I realised I should count my blessings, shut the hell up, and go to sleep.
The next day we all went for walks, pub lunches and all that. We climbed up and down the longest, iciest hills known to man, had a "sausage fest" for tea, and spent the evening playing Trivial Pursuit, Joe secretly using Sign Language from the men's team to tell me the answers. We both moved into the spare beds in the Mums/Dads rooms and finally got decent night's sleeps.
The next day we all drove home - me hanging out the window taking photos of the perilously icy road to offer the Landlady as proof, should I get back late for work (I didn't).
*SPOILERS AHEAD*
On a side note, can I just point out how simply and utterly super-fucking-wonderful the 4th Twilight book "Breaking Dawn" is? Couldn't put it down all weekend. Shockingly graphic pregnancy storyline, thoughts from Jacob's point of view, the breathtaking moment when Bella finally becomes a vampire, the adorable (although stupidly named) Renesmee? Pure. Gold. I mean, yeah, the ending and the final face-off with the Volturi was the biggest anti-climax EVER, but still. I cannot WAIT for the film. They'd better not cock it up.
Anyway, Happy New Year everyone!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dearie me, dear diary. What a LOT of recapping I have to get through!! Such are the perils of leaving it so long, I suppose.
Well I GUESS I should pick up where I left off - poised, trembling and excited, on the brink of Christmas Eve. Town was virtually buzzing, as I headed to meet and Joe and co. for drinks. Nothing to write home about really - my dress was complimented a LOT, it was great to see his friends again, I got quite drunk and had my photo taken with a group of lads dressed as turkeys. Matt headed off for Midnight Mass and soon after Joe put me in a taxi.
Christmas Day - Well, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! Being a family of traditions, we had the good old woken-up-by-brother-jumping-on-bed before going downstairs to open our stockings. Which, obviously, is now a bit of a tongue-in-cheek joke, a metaphor, basically, for Mum and Dad's presents. Anyway, soon after we munched bacon and egg butties before getting ready to visit the godparents (again, the uncle of which inevitably snuck me a triple vodka when I asked for a single).
I'll be honest - I love the O'Donnell Christmas Day Traditions, I fucking love them. Stocking, breakfast, visit to godparents, home for present loading, off to Christmas Day location. Exactly the same every year, and consistantly brilliant. But sometimes, traditions, although supposed to stay the same, can sometimes improve with a minor addition. And that's why it was such a brilliant feeling seeing Joe pull up outside as we were loading the car with presents, and adding his own bin bag to the pile.
Well, what to say? We were at Auntie and Dan's this year, and the food was phenomenal. Obviously we had the old (crackers, terrible jokes) mixed with the new (lobsters and squid for starters) - and the family, I'm staggeringly proud to say, did everything to make Joe incredibly welcome, god love them. Even if it did mean Grandma insisting on sitting next to him and nudging him everytime she told a joke (because nudging makes your hearing louder, evidently).
Funny Story: Grandma nearly didn't make it this year, thanks to the country-stopping but incredibly stunning White Christmas we received. After a tearful phone call from her on Christmas Eve ("I can't make it over love, it's the snow, I can't even make it down the drive. You'll have to miss me out...."), Mum and Dad unanimously decided "bollocks to that," drove all the way out to her house and straight to the rescue, armed with a whole tank of petrol and a sledge to tow her down the drive.
Funny Christmas Day Quote:
Grandma: (*offering cracker*) "Would you like to pull a cracker, Joe?"
Joe: (*looking at me*) "I already have!"
Dan: "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!"
Me: "Awwwww!"
Shaun and Mum: (*fake vomitting noises*)
Anyhow, after lunch, Joe joined Shaun, Auntie and yours truly for another grand tradition - setting the presents out where everyone was sitting. Half an hour and a big pile of paper later, and we were a very chuffed group of people.
Best Presents:
Ipod docking station (Mum and Dad) - YESSSSS!!! Been after one for AGES.
Links charm bracelet (Mum and Dad) - Apparently a huge make. Feel v. guilty but thrilled
Frankie Boyle's autobiography (Joe) - The introduction alone had me pissing myself in Waterstones
Jigsaw toy model (Joe) - A little "inside joke," he said. I do love them Saw films!
Family Guy Season 8 DVD (Shaun) - Freakin' SWEET!
Glittery Michael Jackson t-shirt (Auntie)
Swarovski Crystal Star Christmas Tree decoration (Grandma)
Afterwards we lay in a slightly drunken slump, occasionally looking at presents or listening to a little Joe vs. Family minor not-really-meant-at-all tiff: "You shouldn't have got me presents!" "Yeah, well you shouldn't have got US presents!" Eventually, we went home, Shaun went to work, and me, Mum, Dad and Joe fell asleep watching "Blackadder" repeats.
Despite being forbidden by Mum (HOW old am I again??!!) I snuck in to share a few minutes squashed up with Joe, who was to have my bed for the night. Have you ever tried to share a single bed between 2 people? Don't. It's bloody uncomfortable, no matter how "romantic" it may seem. Still, we faked sleep when Mum came upstairs, and had to physically restrain our "drilling the road" laughing shoulders everytime Mum blew her nose (it sounds like a foghorn, even through the wall).
NEW YEAR: New Year's Eve was simply AMAZING. In case I didn't explain - we (i.e: my and many other families - all friends of Mum and Dad's and Shaun's football team) spent it in a charming cabin up in the Lake District, basking in the shadow of about 16 snow-covered mountains. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Following a late night (shift at the pub) Joe - who was, of course, invited - came to pick me up and slept over at ours. The family had already headed up earlier that day, so had the house to ourselves.
Next morning (New Year's Eve) came way too soon as Joe rudely decided to wake me up at 7 (SEVEN!!! The drive only took 2 hours, why so motherfenkin' EARLY??!) to set off. 2 hours later, and we were stuck halfway up the most perilously icy hill known to MANKIND, with some dickheads in cars blocking the way, Joe swearing his head off in frustration, and the cabin, tantalisingly visible at the top of the hill. Luckily, thanks to the sheer willpower of Joe's little Saab, we made it, not only zooming up the hill but bagging the best parking spot (ie: right in front of the front door). Good times!
After sausage and egg butties (a known remedy for waking up yours truly) we were dragged off for a "fun walk." Actually, I say that in sarcasm, but it was pretty breathtaking - walking through huge snow covered mountains, almost completely untouched. Made it halfway up as well! Joe went on ahead to the top (well, he IS an outdoors type!) as Mum and I breathlessly made our way back to the cabin from the halfway point. On the way back, I scratched little arrows (for when the others headed back) and my initials into the snow with my walking stick. When Joe found me later, back at the cabin curled up in my pyjamas, he told me he'd put his own initials, plus a heart, next to mine. Awww! Wonder if they're still up there? It has been an unfeasibly cold December.......
After a good bout of everyone lazing about and cuddling up for a few hours (me reading the 4th Twilight book, Joe watching Shaun and his mates play table tennis) the New Year celebrations were underway. Well, you know how it goes, the drinks, the partying, the table tennis tournaments. Joe for some reason kept going outside for some alone time - which naturally made me paranoid no end. Was he enjoying himself? Did he want to be elsewhere? Did he find meeting the giant influx of friends, family, and friends of family too much? Hmmm..... Most likely he just wanted to get away from the constant shrieking to gaze on the snowy splendour of the valley view before the cabin - which, to be fair, was one of the most gorgeous things ever.
Still, midnight rolled around. We drank champagne with unfolding sugar roses fizzing at the bottom, worked our way round the "kissing" circle, sang Auld Lang Syne and danced for a bit (an event in itself as Joe NEVER dances). What I WASN'T expecting was when we went to bed, hoping for a sleepless night (if you catch my drift) and literally getting one. Due to my incredibly masterful and cunning plan, Joe and I were to be sleeping on a double bed (well, 2 singles pushed together) behind a curtain in the main lounge, away from other people, and free to do whatever we wanted. What I DIDN'T count on were Shaun and his mates staying in the kitchen, playing music at full volume and running around for 3 HOURS after everyone else retired. I lay there miserably in the dark as Joe angrily muttered about going home the next day, as he couldn't lose anymore sleep.
And just for a moment, despite lying in the arms of a man I loved, in the snowy mountains, surrounded by family and friends, I wished that I could be with someone who was just a whole lot less sensitive and quick-tempered about things sometimes. And then I realised I should count my blessings, shut the hell up, and go to sleep.
The next day we all went for walks, pub lunches and all that. We climbed up and down the longest, iciest hills known to man, had a "sausage fest" for tea, and spent the evening playing Trivial Pursuit, Joe secretly using Sign Language from the men's team to tell me the answers. We both moved into the spare beds in the Mums/Dads rooms and finally got decent night's sleeps.
The next day we all drove home - me hanging out the window taking photos of the perilously icy road to offer the Landlady as proof, should I get back late for work (I didn't).
*SPOILERS AHEAD*
On a side note, can I just point out how simply and utterly super-fucking-wonderful the 4th Twilight book "Breaking Dawn" is? Couldn't put it down all weekend. Shockingly graphic pregnancy storyline, thoughts from Jacob's point of view, the breathtaking moment when Bella finally becomes a vampire, the adorable (although stupidly named) Renesmee? Pure. Gold. I mean, yeah, the ending and the final face-off with the Volturi was the biggest anti-climax EVER, but still. I cannot WAIT for the film. They'd better not cock it up.
Anyway, Happy New Year everyone!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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