A-ha!

To say I have been busy is the understatement of the century! Inbetween being constantly snowed in on and off for the last week, I have also been absolutely run off my feet at work and my social life has just been a rather hazy blur.

Went to our local pub with Tom and my best friend on Friday night; she’d got a bloke down from up north that she’s been seeing on and off for a while and it was the first time we were due to meet him. He was actually a really nice guy but god only knows what he made of our local as to say it was random was rather short of the mark.
We arrived at had to pay two quid to get in. This sounds like nothing but the pub itself is such a nothing, it’s hardly a nightclub but apparently there was a, “act” on.

I didn’t pay much attention as I was trying to recover from my trip across the car park. I had unwisely chosen high heeled knee boots and leggings for my little soiree and was regretting it as I had done a wonderful “Torville and Dean” impersonation through the swing doors and almost dragged Tom down with me. I could almost hear my mum berating me for not wearing my wellies – however, vanity had prevailed and I had refused to don wellingtons on a Friday night out which was why I was now almost having a heart attack and resembled bambi on Malibu.

We sat down and ordered a meal and I was absolutely starving as I hadn’t had any lunch as I’d been so busy at work. After wolfing down sticky lemon chicken, chips and all of Tom’s onion rings I settled back and began a hurried dive into a few gallons of rum and coke. Thank god I did as it numbed the pain of what was to come.
The “act” turned out to be two blokes and enough electrical equipment to launch a space shuttle. They were apparently an “80s electro synth” act and were two of the most ill suited people I’ve ever seen. One was in a tight fitting red shirt with a black tie, standing miserably behind a giant keyboard like Chris from the Pet Shop Boys but the other was like a mad Glastonbury rocker. He was all greasy long hair, baggy jeans with chains on and a filthy sweaty army style baggy t-shirt. I announced through the rum that they were bound to begin with A-Ha’s “Take on me” and they flippin did! So, there was tight shirt man prodding solemnly at the keyboard whilst Mr Glastonbury leapt around the stage doing that strange finger sign that rockers do and yelling at the audience like he was headlining at a ten thousand strong festival. The poor locals did not know what had hit them but the bad had obviously brought their own fans. There was a guy who looked like Fagin out of Oliver twist and loads of older but very glam ladies (who were nicknamed rather uncharitably “atomic mutton”) who kept dancing really suggestively and frightening the blokes who were stood at the bar nursing their pints of mild. It was all very odd and got even odder as we drank more and more and eventually ended up having an 80s dance off at our table. It’s been a while since I dusted off my Tiffany and Debbie Gibson moves but there I was, back at my school disco in my head, wearing a ra ra skirt and deely boppers. It was unnervingly enjoyable.
We were meant to be being picked up by taxi but because of the weather, the company had sent some kind of people carrier except that it was actually a kind of aged blue van. Tom had had one too many shandies and decided it was the A team van and that we were to address him all the way home as “Hannibal”. It’s also very odd when your best mate thinks they’re Mr.T
Tom and I ended up at home on an Amaretto hunt as we swore blind we had some left over from Christmas. We searched everywhere and very thoroughly (so thoroughly in fact that I thought we’d been burgled when I came downstairs in the morning as we’d just hauled stuff out of cupboards and left it there.)
We eventually gave up and went to bed but were woken in the morning with joyous news – well, as joyous as you can through a vile navy rum hangover.
The guy who came to look at my car wanted to come back and buy it- yay! He obviously hadn’t been put off by my hideous bogey faux pas and was coming at half two with the cash.
So, I did whatever any self respecting girl should do who has massive credit card debts. I went shopping. Took Tom for lunch and bought him some nice bits for Valentines day and then bought a whole new snowboarding outfit and half of topshop.
I tried to buy a load more cosmetics but my local town is so backward that Rimmel seems to be as glam as it gets so I’ll have to wait until I go to London next.
I met my mate in town for a drink (lime and soda today, was feeling very rough) and then got a lift home with her. I was weighed down with all my new purchases which included new leggings and stirrup trousers, a new jacket, a snowboarding jacket, Oakley goggles, 3 tops and a t-shirt which I thought was so cool. It’s a retro white skinny one with a black picture of some old guitars on it and underneath it says, “groupie looking for musicians”. It made me laugh out loud in town and looks great with the leggings and boots – very Mischa Barton according to Tom. (I wish!)
Ended up at Tom’s mum’s on Saturday night being forced to down pink champagne. (Didn’t take too much forcing.)
We had a really nice time and wobbled back to Tom’s before we had to get up at 7.30am to go for our final snowboarding session before we go to France next week. Tom was bloomin excellent as usual and I was “keen”. Well, keen for whacking into walls, being skittled over by children and falling flat on my face in front of a class of skiers. I am not cut out for elegant boarding at the moment. Tom’s really sweet and says I’m doing ok but I’m of the opinion that if you hurled a sack of parsnips down the slope it may well be more successful on a board than me. Oh well, hopefully the alpine air will ensure that I become a snowboarding master and be flying down the slopes all elegant and cool. Failing that, I’ll see you at the après ski bar for a brandy!
Tom’s surprised me too by getting me some tickets to see “Oliver” on Friday. He was going to get them for my birthday but they were sold out for May so we’re off down to London the night before we go boarding for a bit of a sing song. Can’t wait! He’s also booked us in to see my favourite band, Ocean Colour Scene, in March in Manchester at an acoustic session at the Hard Rock Cafe – I’m so excited I could scream.
Anyway, I’m currently in a whirl of packing and working – there’s no let up at school and it’s test week this week so I’m up to my eyes in exam papers and grumpy kids.
I’ve also got my graduation date for my NPQH through (my headship qualification) so I’m taking my mum to the ceremony as you can only take one person. My best friend’s graduating the same night so she’s taking her mum too and Tom’s going to drive us then pick us up afterwards for a glass of bubbly. My lovely mum says she knows she’ll cry as ST was such as swine to me all through my finals but I still managed to pass. In fact, my first entry on this blog was the day I went to take my final assessments! God, doesn’t time fly.
So, I’d better sign off for now. I’ll update again when I’m back from France – hopefully all in one piece!
All’s gone very quiet on the comments front, haven’t received any at all so I hope I haven’t deactivated something and that people think I’m ignoring them.

Lots of love and snowflakes
XXXXXXXXX

P.S Remember my top tip.... Never combine high heeled knee boots, a snowy car park and Lamb's Navy rum, it ain't pretty!