Double Excitement

Well, the exciting thing to happen to me on Friday was a trip to Cirque du Soleil! It was pretty spectacular although we almost didn't make it...

The performance started at 22:00. Loco told me that he would pick me up at 20:00, we would drive there, park and grab a quick bite to eat. Loco picked me up at 20:45, parked by my house, we took the metro and went to Mcdonalds as we only had 20 minutes to eat. We then didn't know exactly where it was but had an idea so we set off. By this time it was very late and Loco was practically running and dragging me by the arm. I am not known for my abilities to walk fast and even less so in high heels and this is probably the reason why the heel of my boot snapped off.

So there we are, with no idea where the Cirque is, our bellies full of Mcdevils, at five to ten, with my broken heel in my hand.

From now on you can call me hop-a-long hussy, I half hopped/half hop run around in a big circle until we came across another group of lost cirque goers and we all made our way together down to the tent. Luckily they let us in even though we arrived late and it was very nice. After I finished sulking about the loss of my heel.

Loco and I had planned to go and partake of mojitos afterward but when we stopped off home for me to put on some new shoes I fell fast asleep in all my clothes.

The next day we went to the in laws for lunch. During lunch Loco disappeared saying that he needed to move his car and came back a few minutes later with a large white plastic bag which he hurriedly scuttled upstairs with. A little while later he asked me if I could help him with something upstairs, so off I went to help out.

When upstairs I spotted the bag, "what's in the bag?"
Loco "Nothing - just some boots of mine and your broken ones"
Me (jokingly) "Oh. I thought it might be a surprise present for me" (Loco doesn't do surprise presents)
Loco "No, sorry"
Me "Shame"
Loco "Actually I do have a surprise for you and I can't wait any longer and I want to give it to you now. Can I? Can I? Can I?
Me "Is this a joke?" (Loco sometimes plays mean jokes)
Loco "No - close your eyes"

Loco then proceeded to place a large gift wrapped box in front of me.

"Open it then"

I was so excited I couldn't speak!

In the end I opened it and found..........

a Wii!!

I had casually mentioned a couple of months ago that they looked very fun. Loco had ordered one but had to wait until now to get it. :) :) I am very happy in the knowledge that my boy is capable of surprise presents :)

And it is very fun. I have been playing golf all weekend. My handicap has vastly improved! Loco's parents also tried their hand and became a little bit too addicted for 50+!

I am a lucky girl.

Have I or have I not...

I have just eaten lunch outside, it is incredibly hot, and I think I may have even have got a little bit of sunburn. I hope the weather stays until at least tomorrow so I can head down to the beach (jealous? hmm?? hehe)

Tonight Loco and I have something very exciting planned :) I can't wait. Will tell you all about it next week.

In other news, I haven't seen or contacted Ireland - I feel bad. I am a horrible person. The reasons are twofold

1) I cannot be arsed to hear Loco bleat on about it if I were to meet up with him. He says I can and that it's fine with him but I know that it isn't and I just can't be doing with hassle right now. (I also know Loco's thoughts and opinions shouldn't control my actions) However, every evening Loco asks "So, did you meet up with your "amigito" (little friend) today?"
Me "No"
Loco "Call him?"
Me "No"
Loco "Text him?"
Me "for fuck's sake - no I didn't ok. OK!"

This is a ridiculous situation and can only be remedied when Ireland goes home. Next week.

2) I think it will be weird meeting up with Ireland and his new woman.. for me anyway. Actually it probably won't be that weird cos Ireland is a lovely person who wouldn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. I'm just using this as an excuse not to see him. So there. Bite me.

Car Fads in Spain

I don't know about in the rest of Europe, but here in Spain, pimping your ride is very much in fashion. Driving around, you will see no end of "tuning" garages ready to convert your Seat Ibiza into a lean, mean, driving machine with blacked out windows (apart from the driver's as it is now illegal) extra large footpads, a souped up gear knob and other veritable treats.

I have noticed 2 new fads recently

1. Removing all signs of the make and model of your car - making your car kind of "white label". Why? Sometime you replace your original logos with the logos from other cars.

Note to people that do this: A Seat Ibiza is still a Seat Ibiza even if you stick a ferrari/lamborghini/porsche logo onto it

2. Painting on the rear of your car in fancy letters (preferably in silver or gold) the name of you and your loved one/pet dog/mum so that everyone knows whos in the car. Very Classy, Jesse and Julian in the black Seat Toledo.

And let's not forget the sound systems - any respectable "tuned" car has a full set of speakers, subwoofers and bass box so that eeeeeeeevvvvvvvvverrrrryyyyyyyyonnnnneeeeeeee can hear your garrulo music as you cruise through the streets with your windows open when it's 3ºC.

Oh - and this has now extended to motorbikes too - I was lucky enough to encounter a motorbike with its very own set of very loud speakers the other day. Luckily he was playing music I liked (what does that say about me?).

I'm hoping this is just a Spain thing

Eleven peculiarities

1. When I first moved to Barcelona I hated it
2. I started smoking at the tender age of 23 and gave up aged 24
3. I like to eat salt and vinegar crisps and chocolate, at the same time, in the same mouthful.
4. I am half Spanish but you wouldn't be able to tell just by looking at me.
5. My favourite cocktail is a Singapore Sling followed closely by a Tom Collins
6. I live within a 10 minute walk from my work and I still arrive late everyday
7. I failed my driving test. Twice. It wasn't my fault.
8. I have a phobia of bananas and creatures.
9. I think that one day I will win the lottery
10. I believe in ghosts
11. I have a thing for men with dark hair, blue eyes and irish accents. I just can't help myself.

It was okay in the end

Like I suspected - there were no surpises - no chocolates, flowers or fluffy teddy bears and only Loco's remorseful little face telling me how bad he felt as he knew how much I like Valentine's day but he tried and been unable to get any of the above gifts or find a table.

In my opinion he didn't try hard enough but anyway I think he learnt his lesson and with a bit more training I expect that my future Valentine's days will be much better. Or else.

In the end, after he coaxed me out of my sulk and out of my house, we found a table at a restaurant we'd never been to just round the corner (he got away with it by the skin of his teeth), where I was allowed to order whatever I wanted and whichever bottle of plonk took my fancy and he treated me to everything so it didn't turn out that bad after all.

In other news, Ireland's in town this week - I haven't decided whether to meet up with him or not. I'll keep you informed.

Am I the only person who like Valentine's Day?

Commercial it may be but I don't care. Flowers, chocolates, candlelit dinners, fluffy teddies, secret admirers - it all sounds rather nice to me.

Does Loco know about my love for all things Valentine? Hell yes he does. I have been prepping him since the last big present giving event.

So then, has he got the hint and organised something hopelessly romantic and soppy?
Hell.. no he bloody well hasn't. Unfortunately my friends, my prepping has gone very wrong.

Barcelona has the unfortunate luck of having the largest telecommunications fair going on over the Valentine period. This means that for the 3/4 days of the fair, all hotels, restaurants etc etc are booked up to the hilt - so you could say, a fair excuse for not being able to find a table for your loved one on the 14th February.

This may be true if you're loved one hadn't informed you of this potential problem months in advance and continually reminded you of it in the run up to Valentine's day. If this is the case then there is no excuse.

Yes - I am talking about little Loco - who only took it upon himself to try and reserve a table yesterday - and has been apologising profusely for his lack of Valentine's skills ever since. I am secretly hoping that this is all a front for a big surprise he has prepared, but deep down I know the truth is it is that he hasn't. And poor little me has to make do with an e-card. Loco thinks that taking me for dinner on Friday will make up for it, well let me tell you, unless he takes me for dinner in Paris - he has little hope of making up for his Valentine's day blunder and as punishment I shall bleat on about it for as long as I can away with.

Weekend Activities

Other than the blip my weekend was fine -

Friday night I went to the gym - what a loser I am - and I even went on the cross trainer (I hate HATE the cross trainer - this is for 2 reasons a) it's fucking hard work and makes me go red like a beetroot and b) I've fallen off before - more than one time - it's more common than you think!
No thigh machine though, I thought I'd work upper body this time and my upper body does not appreciate it.

On Saturday night, after enduring Ikea hell on a Saturday afternoon, we went for dinner with some of Loco's friends (couples) (note: Loco only has friends that come in couples), apart from one couple that I like, the rest are generally very boring and are also friends with Loco's ex which makes me feel a bit strange around them, wondering if they are going to go back and report to his ex - not that I should care.

On Sunday, I relaxed, playing buzz and singstar and watching the DVD of Loco's brother's wedding, and seeing his ex, who is skinny as a rake and thinking maybe I should use the thigh machine after all..

A blip

Last night I had my first (and hopefully last) anxiety/panic attack. It was very peculiar and a little bit scary, that suddenly out of nowhere and on the street (terribly un British), I started having difficulty breathing and started to half gasp half sob uncontrollably. Even Loco got scared watching me not being able to breathe or speak, clutching my chest and wheezing like a mad woman.

I'm not sure why it came about but I think it might have something to do with work. Loco thinks it's his fault and that he unconciously stresses me out. I don't know.

One camolmile tea,some rescue remedy drops and some higs and kisses later I felt better.

Everything is ok now. Just a blip.

Laziness

I don't know about you, but when I stumble across a blog that I think I like then I go back to the first post to see how it all came about.

Now, if you were to go to the beginning of my blog and start reading things may get confusing. This is because, basically, I am a lazy git. I half write a post, then I say to myself, I'll finish it later. Then I do it again with another post and another and then I'll write something and actually post it, but, because I never finished the first three half written posts the new posts makes no sense. Get me?

Well I've tried to clean up a few of the half writtens - I'm not quite there yet but now you can find out all about such exciting matters as my first date with Loco, and those that came before like, Beardman, Worm and Garrulo.

Bet you're excited ey! Well try to control yourselves cos I still ain't finished, but soon my friends, sooon.

The thigh machine

Tonight I am going to the gym for the third this year! (three times more than the whole of last year) and I just hope that in 3 days I will be able to move.

On Friday I went to the gym. I did some stuff on the bike, then on the rowing machine (get the cardiovascular out of the way - check me out with my gym knowledge) and then some of the "muscle machines" (yeh so this is as far as my gym knowledge goes, unfortunately I'm not familiar with the correct terminology). This was all going well until I came accross the "thigh machine". Not to be deterred I had a go, and it hurt a little bit at the time but hey, pain is good, no pain no gain, they say. So I continued, my friend encouraging me, telling me that the "thigh machine" is good for working the muscles used when having sex.

Well, you'd think I'd never had sex in my life with the complete lack of muscles that I have down there. No pain no gain can sod right off. Not one, not two, but three days later I was still in extreme agony unable to walk, sit or sleep. I had sex perfectly well before ever using the "thigh machine" and if anything the "thigh machine" has in fact impeded my abilities in the bedroom department.

Safe to say I will not be venturing near the thigh machine again. ever.

Why?

Sometime last week I decided that I would chat to one of the freelance guys that comes into the office. Even though he comes by several times a week, I have never actually spoken to him until now.

For some strange reason I thought he was Scottish, until I spoke to him, (still thinking he was Scottish) and found out he was actually Irish.

Now I have a little crush.

Why could that be?

An update

So I emailed Ireland to find out whether he had in fact been in Barcelona at the weekend.

The answer was that he had. Followed by a "see you in 2 weeks".

And I know I said it saved me hassle with Loco blah blah, but the truth is now I'm smarting and my feelings are a little bit hurt.

Women. sigh.