Non-Skiing

I have just come back from a weekend of skiing.

To celebrate a friend's birthday a group of us spent the weekend din a village up in the Pyrenees for a ski weekend. 11 friends came over from the UK and approximately the same number of Barcelona ex-pats so it made for a good group.

On Friday afternoon we set off on our journey, quite a few people had told me that we had probably chosen the worst weekend ever to go skiing as a Siberian front was coming in causing freak weather conditions.. We debated the need for snow chains and finally decided to stop and buy them about half-way through our journey. They turned out to be a very good buy for as we reached the village the roads became thicker and thicker with snow which seemed to show no end of stopping..

The cottages where we would be staying were located about 1km up a windey hill which had no safety barriers.. We started to make our way up the hill with birthday boys friends following behind in a van and decided that it would be a good time to make use of the snow chains. We all piled out of the vehicles into 8 inch snow and attempted to attach the snowchains.. not as easy as it first appears but with the help of a chirpy irish chap, J.T., we finally got them on and made it to the cottages.

After bagsying rooms, it was time to get supplies. Freddy did not want to risk driving his car back down so we all piled in the back of the van and back down to the village we went.

Freddy had appointed me Amalgamisation Manager, a position I took very seriously, and made it my mission to integrate the three teams..

Team A - Barcelona Ex-Pats
Team B - Bday Boy's London Friends
Team C - Bday Boy's Home Friends

A swift beer in a local bar before shopping turned into a 6 hour binge exchanging google facts and eating vast quantities of eggs of the kinder variety. Tasty. Always a good way to start off amalgamistating!

Somehow we made it for dinner and then eventually back to the cottages, where on the way I was completely victimised and ended up flat on by back in the snow being pelted with giant snowballs from all sides with snow in my hat, gloves, socks, jumper.. etc etc

Warming up in front of the fire with a few more cheeky beverages we had a mexican wave. It was special.

Making it to bed at some point that evening a little worse for wear is not something I really remember.. Being woken up at the crack of dawn to go skiing I most unfortunately do.. Felt absolutely and utterly like 5 thousand cats had shat in my head yet I somehow I managed to get dressed, find drinking wine in the kitchen as there was no orange juice (?!) swallow half a piece of dry toast, and leave the house to enter the blizzard that was blowing outside. I was surprised to see Bday Boy, still in the house, muttering and cursing something about his gloves under his breath as we left... we had a very tiny time margin to catch the train up to the pistes and if he didn't hurry he would miss it.. but I let it slide..

We trudged down the hill and I managed to fall over exactly one time on the ice.. it hurt. BB then came sprinting past.. clearly having found the gloves he had earlier lost..

We made it to the station only to find out that our nearest pistes had been closed due to the weather. We now had the choice to go up to some other pistes slightly further away but the train there did not leave until 2 hours later.. 2 lost hours of sleep.. We whiled away the hours in a little café drinking coffee, water and whatever else would help me get over the hellish nightmare that was my hangover..

Eventually it was time to get the train up to La Molina. Bought our tickets, hung around on the platform.. the train was late.. this did nothing for BB's rage (yes he was still raging about his lost gloves). It arrived. We got on. And waited. The train did not go anywhere, apart from that it was like an oven. The heaters were so hot that one of guys actually managed to melt his snow boot!

The train set off and the scenery up to La Molina was amazing.. like scenes from Narnia.. Everything covered in inches of snow.. I did start to become concerned when I started seeing cars and vans dissappearing under snow drifts.. Once you get off the train you then have to get a bus up to the pistes..

Getting off the train and wading through the snow.. things did not look good..
We waited in the blizzard for what seemed like hours and just as we had decided to sack the whole idea off and spend the afternoon in a bar.. lo and behold.. the bus shows up... I am now torn between bus and bar... but finally end up on bus.

When we finally get there the snow is getting worse and worse and the conditions are pretty bad so the majority of us buy sledges! and spend a couple of hours having races!

The weather showed no signs of improving so we decided to head back lest we be stranded on the mountain overnight.. We arrived at the train station in plenty of time.. enough time to have a HUGE snowball war in the middle of the station.. for hours.. yet the train didn't arrive.. after about 90 minutes we became a little concerned about our situation.. stuck halfway up a mountain.. in the freezing cold.. with no way back.. hmm.

What were we going to do?

To be continued ...

Room 101 - things that would go in

1. Celery

2. Builders making noise before 11am. WRONG.

3. Blue Peter

4. Spiders, Cockroaches.. bugs in general.

5. People who make noise when eating.

6. Bananas.. bleugh.

Bad things I've done
Part One

1. I once snapped my sister's hair curling tongs in a fit of rage. I then tried to stick them back together and hid them under her bed.

2. I scratched my housemate's copy of Pro-Evo (a football game for the PS2 that boys are just obsessed with) with my keys... they were really being bad housemates..

3. I found out my boyfriend's password for his email and checked his emails relentlessly. When I found out he was cheating, I changed his password. Again and again and again and was delighted to read his emails to the email host as to why the password was changing all by itself.

One day in January...

So today I spoke to Stig.

I was going to write an entry entitled paranoia, but today I believe my suspicions to be founded

I have had my suspicions for some time that something happened between him and V, after all it was the night that we went out with him that she then disappeared for a week. I also found it strange that Stig suddenly started asking after V all the time, asking me questions etc. As well as this it was particularly odd that he “suddenly” seemed to know that I was seeing someone – even though I wasn’t. What Ireland and I had was not a relationship as such. But still. He knew.

There was also an occasion where I was meant to be going to a friend's for dinner yet Stig somehow knew that this would be cancelled, i.e. V was ill and wasn’t going.

Small things like that but a chain of events that led my brain into paranoia overdrive.

Neither of them answers their phones when the other doesn’t.

So we speak – I called him. He never calls me anymore, also strange considering his pre-christmas obsession he has suddenly lost all interest. Anyway we chat for a while about this and that and then he suddenly throws into the conversation

“So V’s going to stay in London”

“How do you know that?”

“We spoke”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we speak every now and then. On messenger. You know… chat”

Me (increasingly incredulous) and voice getting more high pitched: “Really??!”

“Yeah – You don’t have a problem with that do you?”

“No, no of course not. How did you have her email?”

“Oh she gave it to me”

“When?”

“One time”

“I see”

I quickly put an end to the conversation and am literally shaking with anger. Fuming does not even begin to describe how absolutely raging I am.

However, devious, sneaky, compulsive lying, two-faced, double-crossing bitch does begin to describe what I currently think of V.

Having told her everything about Stig, and having told Stig a lot of things that I wouldn’t want V to know that I have said, and knowing that they have clearly been in cahoots infuriates me beyond all belief. I cannot tolerate liars.

V made the biggest mistake of her life the day she crossed me. I will confront her when she returns – maybe some little morsel of truth will escape her lips, although I doubt it very much. A pathological liar doesn’t change its spots. And then I will have nothing more to do with her ever again. Or Stig. They can both fuck right off.

Having just watched Closer, I think “fucked-up slag” is an excellent description.

She was no longer a friend of mine the day she took Ireland home, but this, this just takes the biscuit.

I don’t hold many grudges but V has well and truly earned her place amongst the few I hold and maintain. I don’t hate her, she clearly has a disease, but I do not want anything more to do with her, and will suggest to her that I think that it is best that she never returns to Barcelona.

So, a couple of weeks later Stig calls me again. He wants to meet up. He tells me that he wants to be with me and that he knows I want to be with him too. Yes, it’s crazy. I do my best to blow him off nicely

“It’s just that I’m not in the right place to be with anyone right now”

“We’re not meant to be together, we always argue.. not a healthy basis for a relationship don’t you think?”

Any excuse I can think of but, he isn’t having any of it. I eventually escape.

A short time passes – a couple of days or weeks

Stig and I meet up again.

He has news.

“ I have something to tell you… I slept with V..”

“I know”

“How do you know that I slept with Virginia, my housemate”

He then spends the next 40 minutes playing mind games with me. First telling me that he slept with V, then denying it, then telling me he has slept with Virginia, then denying it. In the end I get annoyed and leave.

What happened next.

V returned from UK with her brother to collect her things. The night before she arrived I had finally managed to get a pub /quiz team off the ground and we had attended our first event at the Bristol Blue. Our team wins of course, but the victory is bitter sweet as after I reveal my latest Stig gossip Freddy tells me that the night of doom, Ireland did not sleep in the spare room as V had sworn to me, but in fact had slept in her bed with her. Of course, this only adds to my rage.

My next move is of course to call Ireland and find out exactly what the fuck happened that night. I am luckily in a position where I can happily believe that Ireland will never lie to me. He tells me that he honestly doesn’t know what happened as he was so hammered but is pretty sure nothing did happen. This placates me slightly but does not stop me from wanting to throw V into a pit full of snakes.

The next day I called Jack to see what he was up to and decided to go and meet him in Plaza San Jaume where he was playing a strange beanbag game with some random guys he picked up from the street, and V’s brother, which meant V was also there.. Not being one to like confrontation I endure her chitchat for a couple of minutes until she has to go to the bathroom and the second she has gone I sprint away to the pub where my –trusted- friend is working..

What should I do? I don’t know what to say? I feel sick with nerves. This is awful. I can’t bear it.

My friend does her best to console, counsel and advise me and just as I turn to face my fears, V walks in the door.

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I can put it off for no longer and I ask her if I can have a word.

Me: Ahem. V, it has come to my attention that you have betrayed my trust and confidence and lied to my face. On more than one occasion. I need to tell you that I abhor liars and I am upset at your behaviour.

V: What do you mean?

Me: What do you think I mean?

V: It’s Stig isn’t it. We’re just friends! Nothing happened.

Me: Firstly it’s not just that. Secondly that’s not what I heard.

V: What did you hear? What has he said?

Me: Like I say it’s not just about Stig but I am shocked that you didn’t tell me you were in contact, for god’s sake.

V: I was trying to help him..

M: Why didn’t you tell me? I find it strange that you were in contact with someone that I was/am involved with and you don’t tell me, why would you do that if something wasn’t going on. And besides it’s not just that, I know you lied to my face about Ireland’s sleeping arrangements.

V: We didn’t do anything…

M: I do not giving a flying monkey whether you did or didn’t, I do not care, I told you at the time to tell me the truth and you lied. TO MY FACE. How can I trust someone that could be like that?

V: So.. what? That’s just it then. I could say stuff now but it would only be hurtful so I’m not going to. We clearly can’t sort this out so goodbye.

V walks off, I stand there gaping. I call Freddy and go for coffee to dissect the conversation – her absolute lack of shame or apology etc etc.

This is followed by angry calls from Stig. And surprisingly Jack who tries to convince me to forgive V.. she has clearly brainwashed him with her lies which infuriates me more as he doesn’t have a clue what happened.

We have to swap belongings so V comes to my apartment the following afternoon full of apologies etcetc. I listen, tell her I don’t hate her (I don’t) and smile and nod when she says she wants us to stay friends..

The truth is there is no way in hell we are remaining friends. I have lost all and total trust in her, I realised early on that she had a problem with lying, I just assumed she wasn’t lying to me and learnt the hard way.

Celebrating

After basically toning it down big style since New Year, I decided it was time for a party again and what better to get into the Fiesta Spirit than by celebrating my one-year anniversary! I wanted to make a day of it so a group of us headed to the iceskating rink on the Saturday afternoon to see how many bones we could break or fracture! I only fell over once so I did well, unlike Jack who caused endless pile ups tripping over small children here, there and everywhere.. I believe he fell over that many times that the ice-warden gave him a warning.. oh Jack.

In the evening I invited my friends over to mine for some drinks, where Jack gave a beautiful toast with a tea cup, we then headed off to my favourite bar where I truly celebrated by, first getting onto a table and dancing, then when bored decided to scramble somehow onto the bar with Gracie and Manhattan to do some more moves in a ridiculously short skirt.. not perhaps one of my better ideas! I then moved back to the table and promptly fell off sending drinks flying. class in a glass.

My New Year's Resolutions

1. Drink less
2. Give up smoking
3. and caffeine
4. and McDonalds
5. Only bother with men who I like as much, or more than Ireland and sticking to the 5-date rule.
   

So far 4 (ish) out of 5 are going well

oh and pass my driving test before August (when my theory runs out)

A change in the air

So after the surprise departure of Jeanette from the apartment... I now have a new housemate, Chuck.

Also a kraut, but he seems quite nice.. I haven't tried anything either.. big change from a year ago when I had bedded the Argentian within a week.

I have my eyes on a new victim - I think this is a good sign. 3 days ago I had sworn off men for life but tomorrow is another day and this one is tall, good looking, nice body, well dressed and apparently a nice person too.. this I shall find out for myself this evening when I plan to make my first attack at the anniversary drinks party tonight. Heh.

Chuck will only be staying for a month as Head Chicken likes to be.. just that.. the Alpha Male. So in February Lily will be moving in.. which I think will be nice.. as

1. I already know
2. I know she cooks well
3. and she's a nice person
4. but talks A LOT

better than Jeanette the nutcase in anycase.

It is amazing how many CRAP blogs are on this thing.. out of perhaps 45 random blogs I look at, there is perhaps one, if I am lucky, that is of any interest or amusement whatsoever.

At least mine has certain qualities.. you know like sex, obsession, love, "romance", friends, ninjas, betrayal, drugs.. so many excellent things that at least make it slightly more interesting than 99.9% of the blogs out there. jeez.

another thing that annoys me is that most of them are american.. i think americans must lead boring lives.

england. yeh.

NYE in Barcelona

Unfortunately because of the shitey weather in UK amongst other things, I was left with no plans for New Years and so decided to fly back to Barcelona earlier than planned with Jack!

After being thoroughly searched at the airport - when will I learn to pack less thus avoiding multiple layers of clothing and 23 million kilos of hand luggage no less - finally made it onto the plane and back to good old Barca.

Jack arrived home to find two french guys staying at his apartment - sons of a friend of his landlady so they all ended up coming over for dinner where we drank vast quantities of cava and then headed into Barcelona to my favourite Irish bar to visit Maisy, the poor unfortunate wench who was working on NYE...

There I found myself amongst many old and new friends and we all decided to head off to a club on Plaza Real and boogie, although I do not remember much of this.. though I have the photos to prove I was there!

I somehow made it home but not before first having a little sleep on the stairs of a bar.