ascot
So the past few days have been so typically Glasgow - wet and grey. And I found myself sludging through the miserably wet weather, umbrella held close, peering through the droplets that inevitably blew underneath, onto my glasses, and I was SMILING! Because no matter the weather, I was listening to some fine tunes on my headphones and I was HAPPY! It was a good day and I loved the fact that I was exactly where I was, crossing a bridge across a polluted yet pretty river on my way to work on such a soggy afternoon. Wow.
I haven't been up to much, admittedly. Mostly errands, tying up the loose ends involved in a move. Also fitting up the flat with the final bits and bobs to make it truly complete. We now have all the mod cons, including a shiny new silver microwave, freeview and, soon, wireless broadband! Woo hoo! I spend my mornings sprawled out on the couch watching shite Tv, or in bed devouring a few books, followed by compulsive cleaning in the kitchen while listening to trashy radio. I've fallen into a domestic routine, and I relish it. The weeks have been flying by, I dunno where the time gets to!
The other day I played host and tour guide to a very excited young Swedish B&S fan. It was kind of frightening, the tour I was able to give to this obsessive fan. 'And this is the street where he lives, and this is the shop where he donates his clothes and here's the church where he sings in the choir and..' Yeah, you get the idea. Which is worse, the fact that I know all of this, or that he lapped it up and had his camera ready at every turn?
Actually, the worst bit is what I did later. Inspired perhaps by the revelation that the random music journalist who chanced upon a book deal about the band got a huge five-figure cash advance, I decided it's about time I got off my arse and did some freelance writing again. And what better place to start, eh? So in the spirit of enterprise - ie cashing in on relationships with famous friends - I went to the gig that night with business in mind, and networked and, I think, secured a great article. We'll see. I later e-mailed the man in question, outlining my proposition, and got this as a reply: "Sure, Stacey journalist. Let me get some sleaze for you first." Er... ok. I'm not sure what that means exactly. I wasn't aware there was any sleaze involved in the article I had in mind... but hell, I won't pass up an opportunity for sleaze, eh? Sleaze sells! Which leads me to believe he was joking.
So my creative mind has gone into overdrive, coming up with other ideas. There's another music article that has been screaming to be done for ages now, and I'm thinking the time is ripe for it, so I made some enquiries to that end. And I finally lit some fires under the proverbial Dot to Dot demo ass. There's no stopping me now! Yeah, right. We'll see what, if anything, actually materialises from all this. Regardless, at least I'm getting excited about all these little projects.
Speaking of excitement and fires and such, this whole G8 thing is building up quite nicely. As a journalist, I can't help but get riled up at the prospect of mass riots and chaos and all that comes with it. We've been having little conferences about it at work, and it's left me itching to get out of the office and out there among the masses, doing some on the ground reporting. Unfortunately, I'm an editor now and as such, my ass is stuck firmly in my seat in front of a computer, in the office. Especially as one of the other subs will be on holiday. It'll still be chaos, but of the less fun, late-night stressful variety. Ah well. At least it will liven things up a bit.
Actually the job is going swimmingly. Not very taxing, very laid-back. And we've been taken out for (free) drinks twice this week! There's nothing like being encouraged to sip some pricey cocktails mid-shift. And yesterday there was a Royal Ascot party, fully, poshly catered, complete with champers! And free bets! My horses lost, of course, but it was still fun. Next week the lead editor from London will be up for a visit, which will likely mean more bar jaunts. And on Tuesday, the girls are taking advantage of a new at-home store visit - one of the top shops will be coming to the office with an array of clothes and shoes and accessories. I think it's like a modern version of the Tupperware party... which scares me a bit, but still provides a nice diversion.
Oh yeah - I got a hair cut. It was pretty dramatic - read: traumatic - and I hated it at first. But then I came home and oversaw as Richard took scissors in hand and altered it a bit. And then I did a little home highlighting, and now I quite like it. I also cut Richard's hair, which turned out well. It's the second time I've done it, and it was just as terrifying as the first. I'm sure most girls would enjoy such a thing, but it's just so stressful! I've got no idea what I'm doing, really. A slip of the wrist could have tragic consequences. Ah well. So far I've been lucky. And it's kind of fun in a scary, laughable bonding-with-boyfriend sort of way. Awww.
This weekend there is a succession of gigs. Should be fun! Other than that, I've got no idea what we're doing. The weekends really sneak up on me these days! I think we might have a housewarming party next weekend. I've never actually had one. Crazy! Hopefully we won't make enemies of our neighbours.
OK, time to shower. I'm stuck inside, waiting for a package to be delivered. But I do hope to get out eventually, to do a little shopping of course. I'm afraid I've become a shop-aholic of late. This trip will be for mailing supplies, nothing exotic. Maybe some vegetables too. I'm planning a big veggie lasagne this weekend. And a proper cake! Yeah, domestic goddess me.
