The Walk To Work

My house is on a corner. So obviously turn the corner onto the main road. That's step one.

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Past the bus stop crowded with people waiting for a bus that will come around the corner completely packed. Onwards towards 'The Corner Of Doom' In which you must try and cross before someone with what must be a broken indicator swings round and hits you. (It's amazing how many people around here have broken indicators) If completed with all limbs, continue along the main road.

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Walk past a building site and try to avoid eye contact with the scary builder on the top level. He will wolf whistle if you look in his direction. Keep eyes towards the ground or use this moment to change the song on your iPod/check messages/facebook/that new piece of gum on the pavement. Never look up until you reach the next bus stop.

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Continue walking past the block of flats that has as many 'to let' signs as it has broken windows. Lovely stuff. For added effect, check out the litter in the forecourts. Classy. If anyone exits from these flats, repeat previous advice about checking phone/floor. Eye contact can lead to fist/face contact. (What a beautiful picture I'm painting. It's actually not like that at all, well, it's a mess but no one ever goes in, no one ever comes out so you're OK there)

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Past the Barra's. (if travelling on a Saturday, marvel at the bargain shops in the Barra's market and watch with glee as the old guy in the beanie tries to assemble his market stand with one hand while the other holds a can of Buckfast). Alternatively you can look on the other side of the road at the 'Adult Clothing Shop' which stocks the very best in fetish wear and sexy..erm... insect costumes. (seriously, that's what's in the window). There's also a bin outside that has the graffiti 'End Israel Apartheid' Which may be a good point but I've got a bumble bee costume to buy!

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Over the road and into Trongate. This is wear it started to get a little busier and you are now in the city centre. Stroll past the Italian place that's 'Under New Management' but never open. Wander past the chip shop where the guy behind the counter has a recording contract. (Honestly he has, he was on 'The One Show' and has a fabulous voice) Walk past the scariest cherub statue you will EVER see. It's like a baby Mat Lucas with bug eyes and a crooked creepy smile. None of that cuddly cuteness you get with Mr Lucas. God it's awful. Pass the amusement arcade with the singing bingo caller, the art gallery, the Tron Theatre, a Greggs,  an old fashioned sweet shop, the odd drunk, a guy who stands outside TG Huges selling papers, one of the few McDonalds that opens at 5 (to my knowledge) and onto Argyle street.

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Buskers: guitar players, break dancers, an old lady with an accordion, a five year old on a set of drums, bag pipers, football skills, sax players, harpist, opera singers, string quartets, jazz singers, Bible preachers, Scottish dancers, human statues, balloon animal maker type people to name a few all the way through Argyle Street, up Buchanan Street and round in Sauchihall Street.

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People ask me why I moved here. Right now, the walk to work is in the top ten reasons.

How To Make Fajitas

Instructions on box

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• Coat chicken in oil and seasoning mix. (For a milder fajita use less seasoning)
• Heat a heavy based frying pan until very hot. Add the chicken and fry for about 3 minutes until well browned.
• Add onions and peppers and cook for a further 2 minutes or until meat is cooked.
• Serve with warm tortillas and salsa
• Roll up and enjoy! (there's actually an exclamation mark here, I didn't put it in)

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V and McFarley way

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• Order an Asda delivery to be delivered between 6 and 8
• Unpack delivery once I arrives at five to 8.
• Take out bins quickly to create more space.
• Assume you've been locked out of the back door due to McFarley using the wrong key. Walk around to front of house and get back in the building.
• Indulge in some rather strange host/guest role reversal as V cuts up all the food and McFarley just holds the frying pan and stirs the chicken with a fish slice.
• Wonder why it's so blinking hot in the kitchen before realising that two people, one cooker and one heater all working in a kitchen no bigger than a five foot creates a fair bit of heat. Turn on extractor fans and open the window.
• Suggest the addition of grated cheese. (V goes to cupboard to take out grater and finds the 'Worlds Sharpest Knife' flying towards her face in a desperate big to either be used or escape. McFarley helps out greatly by standing at the frying pan and yelling 'THAT'S A KNIFE!' Very useful)
• Check V has no scars and check there's no blood on floor/V/food.
• Forget until almost the last minute to put the tortillas in the oven to warm, (McFarley swears a little too loudly)
• Cook everything with no added salmonella and enjoy! (I added that one)

Shop Confusion

I had the day off work yesterday.

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Never one to venture out of my comfort zone, I went shopping with V from work. (she's new to this blog, be nice to her and say hi. Hello V!) V needs a new dress for her boyfriends birthday party. I need...well nothing really but I'm on my own this week and fancied some company.

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We meet outside work at half 11 and wander around Buchanan Street and such before heading to McDonald's.

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All very normal and un-blog-worthy I hear you cry. Never fear. here's where it all starts.

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Hollister!

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Have you ever been in one of these shops? It's the most bizarre place I've ever visited. And I've been to Bulgaria. On entering, we are met by a greeter girl who (with a hint of fakeness in her voice) welcomes us to 'the Pier'. The pier? Suddenly I've been transported to a beach somewhere where they sell polo shirts and jogging bottoms. I used to live near the beach and I can assure you. South Parade pier didn't look like this. Wheres the two pence machines? The toy grabbing machine that makes that bloody awful 'YOU FAIL' noise when you lift an empty crane out of the teddy's? This is nothing like the pier back home. For one thing,  the pier back home had it's light on.

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Yes, the lights. Ever had an intimate evening with your partner? you turn down/off the main light and sit in near darkness with just a small lamp or the  TV providing just enough light for you to see things and not bump into them. It's romantic no? That's the lighting in this shop. Jeans are displayed in almost candlelit brightness and small 3 watt bulbs hang from the ceiling. The brightest form of light is the huge LED screen at the back of the shop that shows waves on the tropical shore. Everywhere else is covered in a half light that leaves me full of concern for the mole like workers.

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All the workers are in checked shirts and cool hip and happening bottoms. All the girls have big hair and big grins. The guys have too much styling gel and not one of them has their collar down. Every single one of them has model looks, no blemishes/braces/roots in sight (well, at least I don't think so, it was so blinking dark). They parade around in the twilight bopping along to the tunes falling out the speaker, the bass turned up way too loud. Meanwhile, the air has a humidity to it that's sticky enough for both V and I to take off our coats. Maybe it's supposed to give us a beach/holiday feel but by the time I'm near the back (by the waves) I'm confused, deafened, sweaty and concerned for my eyesight. I don't understand. there's even a sitting area near the tills. I suppose that must be for all the sunbathing you do in the middle of Glasgow on a Wednesday afternoon

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 Hi, Welcome to Hollister, It's dark in here, we're all better looking than you, nothing has a price on it and it's warm enough to cook bacon in here. Please buy something.

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Maybe I'm just getting old?

My Kitchen

My kitchen is bright red

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It has white tiles along the wall behind the cooker. A window which overlook some shrubbery and the bus stop. A pin board covered in postcards, photos and memories. And a small collection of cookery books in the corner.

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It also has the following.

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Red splotches of paint on the white ceiling.

The people before us obviously pained in haste. Around the edges of the ceiling are blobs of bright red paint. Now in the cupboard when we moved in were three pots of paint. One red (of course) one cream (the colour of the hallway and living room) and one white. Now why didn't anyone look at that pot and think 'I know, we'll cover the red splotches with this colour. it seems to be the same colour at the paint under the splotches!'

But instead, they forgot/didn't, or hoped we would think it was some kind of contemporary art. Like Tracy Emin. Maybe it's suppose to represent something. Ketchup?

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Two plug sockets next to the sink!

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Who in the world though that this would EVER be a good idea? Electricity, so I'm told is a pretty dangerous thing when mixed with water. In a kind of boom way, it'll make you're hair super backcombed and your eyes super popped-out. So I've got a psare plug socket, where shall I put it?' 'I know, we'll put them on the wall next to the sink. There's only a tiny bit of work space there but hey, its enough for a kettle or something." Clever.  Ten points for trying.

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A severe lack of drawers.

Inside the cupboards are the rungs (or whatever they're called) for drawers. But no drawers. The folks before us must have had drawers with sentimental value. Maybe they were made by a dying relative, maybe they had family heirloom drawers that their Great Great Grandmother carried over from Russia. 'When she arrived in Scotland, these drawers and the dress she was wearing were all she had.'

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Now a word about the people that lived here before us. They were lovely people. Very sweet and kindly popped back after we moved in to make sure we were OK and settled. But they were very strange in what they left/took.

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Left: One lamp, one coffee table, one Ikea catalogue, one torch, fridge magnets in shapes of letters, one iron,  one ironing board, three pots of paint, one pack of cards, three frying pans, one mirror, one broom

Took: Drawers from kitchen, Curtain pole and curtains(but they did leave another pole that was about a foot too long.) towel rail, toilet roll holder, lampshades,

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Odd.

Thug

Anniversaries. Lovely things.

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McBride and I have been together four years. Hurrah for us. But as wonderful as that is, That isn't what I'm going to talk about. It's just a starter so you know why we're where we are.

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China Buffet King.

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This place rocks socks. All you can eat for £12. This includes soup, duck pancakes, mains, starters, even prawn crackers. Good stuff. We sit at our table, we talk about the past and future and generally enjoy the glow that comes with the knowledge that the person on the other side of the table has chosen to spend the last four years with you.

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On the table next to us are two men. To be blunt, one looks like he's going to punch someone and the other looks like he'd steal your watch to fund a drug habit. I look over every now and then throughout the evening and see them fill their plates no less than seven times each. Impressive for thugs and junkies.

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They finish up about twenty minutes before we do. As they leave, Thug wanders over to our table.

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"Evening folks, I'm really sorry to barge in on your conversation like this..."

Here it comes, either an insult or a plead for drug funds.

"...I hope you're having a good evening. Erm...My names John by the way. I was wondering...now I know your mum always said never take sweets from strangers but... because you now know my name's John...Do you guys want the Everton mints that we got with our bill?"

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And with that, he gently placed two Everton mints on out table, smiled, saluted and said "Enjoy yourselves. Take care." before heading out into the wind and rain.

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Never judge a book by it's cover.

Asda

I like to get Asda home deliveries. It's a £3.50 delivery charge but by the time we've paid for the bus to Asda and back, it seems to be easier to get it all delivered to our door. Plus, as no money changes hands, (thanks to the joys of internet payment) it's almost like getting free food delivered to your door.

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My delivery's booked between 7:00 and 9:00. So after rushing home from work,I sort out my kitchen cupboards, clear all the crap out of the fridge and wait. At half eight, he arrives, he's soaking wet and about 16 years old (is he old enough to drive?) he smiles and holds up two bags.

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"Erm, (thick Glaswegian accent) these haven't been claimed. If I take them back to the depot, they'll just throw them out. do you want them?"

I don't know what to say, Do I want this food? Is there a catch?

"It'll be free."

Oh well then yes I do want it thank you very much.

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After having a chat about the manky manky weather and carrying my bags into to kitchen, he smiles once more and heads back out into the darkness. I go into the kitchen to check my goodies. What did I get for free?

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A pack of chicken breasts.

Two packs of cooked ham for sandwiches

A large pizza (peperoni)

A box of 15 rocket ice lollies.

Of course, what with the tropical weather gracing the west coast of Scotland, what fool wouldn't want 15 ice lollies in brightly coloured falic shapes? Oh, wait a minute...

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But free food is free food, I'm not complaining. I check through the list with Mr McBride and all is well.

Oh, apart from the following

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Missing: Beef mince.

Missing: Smoked bacon

Missing: Mushrooms.

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So what had started as free food actually turned into stupid substitutes for what I actually wanted. Lets face it, I don't really fancy sausage, egg and ice lolly for breakfast. Ice lolly bolognaise sounds wrong and wild cooked ham risotto doesn't really float my boat.

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Refund please.

Destiny

Once upon a time, there was a small girl. She wore floaty skirts and a checked scarf. She said things like 'Awesome' and 'Sup Homie'. She was a happy soul with a passion for Monster Munch.

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She didn't ever think she'd meet her soul mate at such an early age.

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At 23 years old, she'd already climbed mountains, seen the Eiffel Tower and eaten her own body weight in pizza but never did she think that she'd be looking at her soul mate whilst on her way home from work on a rainy January evening.

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Like every other night, she walked from her shop in the arcade and out onto Argyle Street. People walked past her. Like children with a secret they avoided eye contact and enjoyed owning the knowledge that fate had something spectacular in store. Each passer-by held a cryptic smile that would go unnoticed by the small girl as she walked unknowingly towards her destiny. But blissful ignorance filled the girls chest as she powered through the crowd of commuters. She wanted to get out of the rain and back to her boyfriend.

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A homeless guy asked her if she had spare change. She shook her head and the old guy smiled and shrugged his shoulders. To him, it was just an honour to be part of something magical. He watched her walk on by with a feeling of affection towards her. She was about to meet fate and fate was about to offer her a lifetime of happiness. She had a boyfriend.The homeless guy knew this. But fate needed to break some hearts to make others complete. The old guy was given such a moment once and neglected it. He watched the girl in the hope she wouldn't be so proud and leave destiny in the dark.

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On she walked. Past students, bankers, charity workers. All of them moving out of the girls way to form a path direct from her heart to her soul mate. All of them full of hope and anticipation for the moment that was about to take place.

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The entire street seemed to dissolve into a fuzzy blanket that surrounded the girl. Time slowed and the world held it's breath. Moments like this happen once in a life time. A moment like this will become immortal and will be engraved in the heart of everyone who is privileged enough to witness it. It's pure magic.

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The girl looked up and squinted to see through the curtain of rain before her. Then she saw. Suddenly it all made sense to her. Her heart seemed to skip a beat and her breath managed to get trapped. Her steps quickened. She couldn't help herself. All that mattered to her was getting closer.

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The rain took pity and eased off as the world stopped completely. Giving the girl a moment of pure bliss with her soul mate. She knew. From that very first moment she knew. Destiny had chosen the street, the time, the place. All she had to do was give into the moment. She held out her hand and pressed her fingers against the glass. Memories will never do this moment justice. No one will ever understand. They were made for each other.

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The world began to speed up around them. The commuters continued on their way. The charity workers called out and the homeless guy carried on asking. None of them wanted to make the girl aware that they knew of this moment of utter purity. But it was getting late. The girl knew it could never be and slowly backed away. She couldn't risk what she had with her boyfriend for a fantasy of what could be. Fate could be harsh and right now it was messing with her head. She walked away, looking back only once and savouring the moment before turning and walking into the night.

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Her soul mate watched her go. Staring at her boots wit envy as they splashed in puddles. Fate was cruel to shoes, fate would dangle eternity in front of the shop window safe in the knowledge that the shoes would never be able to run and grab hold. Instead they were always left in the window, cursing fate and hoping for a time when the girl could justify buying them. Maybe one day. Maybe one day.