Mmmm.. Pancakes...

Pancakes with..
Fried mushrooms and grated cheddar cheese
Boursin (garlic and herb soft cheese)

Fried cooking apple in cider brandy (CAUTION: cider brandy is, in fact, flammable) cinnamon and sugar
Lime juice and sugar
Nutella (chocolate spread) mmmmmm
Lime juice and sugar (was so good the first time I had it a second time).

I should have pancakes as a meal more often. I love them.

Ha Ha! I'm Famous!

Hopefully only for five minutes...

Ross is loving this, and I'm really not. It seemed like a good idea at the time...

Look at us looking a bit dazed in The Sun

We got half the page (and full page picture!) in the Daily Mail

Oh yeah, and I don't think we're the tallest couple in Britain. Please don't let the Guinness Book of Records get on to this one... aaargh! Go away! I like my nice quiet life!

A Bit Less Shoop, Shoop, Shoop and a Bit More Aaaargh

Well, I'm back and I didn't break anything! Hooray! Rather than give you an entire rundown of the week, I thought I'd just give you some snippets:-

Saturday night: Just catch last train from London at 11:30, after worrying all the way from Stratford I'd be horribly late, get back to Bristol after a short sleep at 1:40 with sore feet and then having to walk all the way home, get to bed finally around 2:30 after finally finishing packing, get back up again after not much sleep at 3:30, get lift to airport at 4:10, get plane at 7, sleep on plane, get on bus, sleep on bus, get to resort at 1pm. Get skis, go to bar. Fall asleep in deckchair while everyone else drinks beer. Go inside when it gets cold, fall asleep whilst sat on sofa while everyone else drinks beer.

The chalet host was 9 years younger than me, and I think I was the youngest in the group. He was mooning over some other chalet girl from the group. He did try very hard to solve most of the chaos in the chalet that wasn't entirely his fault. He also made a mean biscuit cake (cue me getting very hyperactive on sugar).

The ipod I brought was put on some speakers so everyone got to enjoy my kind of music and make various comments on the cheesiness of the music, and the randomness - well, there's Belinda Carlisle, Aerosmith, Samantha Mumba, Coldplay, Doves and Abba just to mention a few...
Down a ski slope the thought goes through my mind: "Congratulations. You have just chosen the steepest part of the slope to go down."

Solving a work-related problem whilst trying to go to sleep, and getting annoyed at myself. I was on holiday!

Commenting that I wasn't looking very pretty (I meant ski style-wise) coming down the last slope in a cable car, only for an unknown bloke opposite us to pipe up, "You were looking very pretty from behind". Whimper...

Getting more bruises off slope than on - my skiing has got to the point where I no longer fall over (and therefore get worse and worse at skiing because I don't want to fall over). On Friday night I fell twice in about five minutes down a slope and landed on exactly the same place both times! I also have various USHIs (Unidentified Skiing Holiday Injuries).

Getting home on Sunday only to get to a cold, untidy and quiet house. It was strange to share so much time with people and then there to be nothing. Then I fell asleep during Natural World.

Finding that in fact people you know can become proper friends - it's funny how you can know someone, but not really know them, if you see what I mean. I hope that I have made an "acquaintance" become a friend. Also being the person that people tell things like "I have a really bad farting problem today". Thanks for that.

It Seems That My Life Will Be Forever Touched

So, there I was. Hmmm, Valentine’s Day. The Most Romantic Day Of The Year^TM. I know, let’s go “surprise” my boyfriend in London by visiting him for a couple of hours on that night. Let’s go by bus because it’s a darn sight cheaper than booking the train the day before.
So, the first bit worked pretty much to plan. Then it all started to go horribly wrong on my way home. Nooooo…
I got to the bus with plenty of time to spare, but unfortunately lost my helium balloons from Pizza Hut in Victoria Station. Then I wasn’t in the first few people to get on the bus so some girl pinched the front seat (having very long legs means sitting in a cramped bus seat is not the most comfortable, and the front seats have the most room). This girl then proceeded to push her seat back (I won the first battle, but then fell asleep when she did it again, grrr) to make what little legroom I had to start off with completely disappear. Thanks for that, cow.
So, the bus sets off at 11:30 pm, fine, I fall asleep after a while, only to wake up an hour later to the bus driver calling his mate to say that there’s a problem with the fuel and he’s hoping he can get to the next service station before the bus dies. About five minutes later, the bus dies. In the middle of nowhere, somewhere near Reading on the M4. Oh Great. So we sit, on the side of the motorway, while the trucks blow past us, and our emergency hazards on. Fair play to the driver, he did what he could to solve the problem, but there wasn’t much he could do except wait with the rest of us for rescue. About 10 minutes later, a bus stops by us. Hopes flare until it transpires the bloke’s going to Swindon, Chippenham and Gloucester. Not much good for a group of tired people who want to get to Bristol. It transpires that the people coming to rescue us are coming in a van, and all the way from Bristol, which is a good hour or so driving away. We sat, and then sat some more, and then eventually I probably did sleep. An hour and a half (2am) after we pulled to the side of the motorway, another bus turns up. This one, it transpires, is going to Swansea and will drop us off on the way. And it has enough seats on it! Hooray! So I quickly get off the bus, in the hope I can get a better seat that isn’t being crushed by the (insert rude word here) in front. We get on said bus, and the driver starts being very randomly rude to my fellow passengers – telling them they can’t even have a very small rucksack on the bus (luckily I got away with my heavily laden handbag) and it has to be stored in the hold (?!?). I get my space at the front of the bus, somehow, absolutely no legroom whatsoever on this bus, when someone gives me back my rather lovely gloves I left on the previous bus (whoops). Thankyou, kind man.
Finally, we set off on our trip back to Bristol, the driver telling the bloke on the opposite side of me to get his seatbelt on straight away, and we leave the poor other driver to wait for recovery, which still hasn’t arrived. The driver listens to cheesy radio all the way, but I sleep. An hour later (3am) we finally arrive, tired and annoyed, at Bristol Bus Station, after an extraordinary route round Bristol that almost takes us to the train station and annoys the bus driver further. Some guy pipes up, “I guess we’re not going to Bristol University?”. The terse Welsh bus driver replies, “You guessed right”. How polite. I don’t know what happened next as I just got off the bus, happy to be a bit closer to home. The guy next to me (who, it has to be said, snored pretty much all the way home) comes out of the bus station shouting about the bus driver. I start undoing my bike, realising that I have no lights. Ah well, I’d rather cycle home than attempt to walk it at this time of night. And then, the most random thing happens. The ensuing conversation takes place:
Random man: Can you give me a lift?
Me: What?!?
RM: Can you give me a lift?
Me: On my bicycle? Are you crazy?
RM: It’s no problem, I’ll just sit on the back.
Me: I’m sorry, I can hardly push myself along on this thing, let alone anyone else.

I get home at 3:45, on my own, and finally get to my nice bed. I get 4 hours sleep before I have to go to work again. National Express is not in my good books today.

I'm Off Skiing...

Bye!

This Morning I Got Green Lights Down The Hill...

...cue crazy big woman on a bycicle going "Weee!" all the way into town