Over the years I've spotted some famous folk in airport lounges. The latest was Alan Alda in San Francisco - on his way to Utah.

Mayo with that?

Tunitas Creek Road (according to someone at work) is where one should go if you happen to have a body to dump. Apparently all local people know this.

This weekend local cops here investigated a car that was parked up on the highway near the beach. No doubt expecting a drunk or a teen pothead. When they were talking to the driver they spotted a bundle-under-a-blanket, in the back seat. Lo and behold there was a dead body.

Obviously, being a small town this caused some Monday morning speculation on the driver's intention (dump the body off the cliff into the sea, was my bet) This is when G revealed the Tunitas Creek Road (not so) secret.

The collective response was fascinating 'oh really?' 'where is that exactly?' 'why is Tunitas Creek so good then?' ' 'is it accessible?' 'is it signposted?'
You'd think he'd found a great sandwich bar.

I don't really know where I'm going with this one - but felt it deserved a mention. Just in case anyone happens to have a body to dump!

A matter of taste

Now that I'm a 'water warrior' (I have been since sundance - you MUST see F.L.O.W. if you get the chance), I suspect I've become a pain in the butt (pun intended).

I'm currently reading Blue Covenant by Maude Barlow. Get it. It's fascinating (and scary) and will now be peppering my rants with terms like 'water apartheid'.

I don't drink bottled water, only tap water filtered in a jug, carry my own refillable aluminium water bottle everywhere (plastic is B.A.D)., jump on the kids if they dare to run the tap while brushing their teeth and go around at the end of the day tipping everyone else's stale drinking water into the bamboo plants on the windowsill. (waste not want not).

I may become overwhelmed by the issue any day now.

Husband on the other hand is worried because the world is running out of oil and he wont be able to ride his motorbike.
He's also fretting about being eaten by a great white shark if he goes sea kayaking.

Bloody funny

I was at the dentist yesterday getting my teeth routinely cleaned. As you do. The hygenist was lovely and chatty and very considerate and all that, but at one point she totally stabbed my gums. I was very self-contained-dont-like-to-complain British and gave out a polite little 'ouch'. She asked in a not really bothered voice 'oh, did that hurt? . Now this was a tad unrepentant in my opinion, given that she'd just pierced my flesh with a great big silver hook thing!. There was blood for Goodness sake.

I slipped into a mini fantasy of me going OTT writhing and bleeding and screaming at her 'you stabbed me in the mouth of course it feekin hurts!!!' - and it cracked me up!! (obviously it had been a slow day untill then). I completely lost it in the chair, and in an all time first, the dentist had to stop and wait for me to stop laughing before she could carry on.

BUT the best bit is she didn't crack a smile. Just looked at me, blood seeping out my face, laughing like a skate, and waited for me to stop. Americans, nae sense of humor.

NOT BOVVERED

I should post photos here i know. but that involves me getting up, finding the cable thingy for my iphone, and clicking two buttons. seems like a lot of bother to me.

maybe later.

oh my gawd - am I middle aged??

This just occurred to me.

In the past 2 months I've taken up knitting, pottery and reading history books on 16th century society. Is this a sign of something? Why has the slumbering artisan in me suddenly awoken?

now granted by knitting always turns out to be a scarf, regardless of what it starts as - and a very mishapen and knotted one at that. And I only use size 36 needles cos I dont have the patience for anything thinner, but still...

And my pottery SUCKS! ( I do a great Demi Moore /Righteous Brothers routine though. ) I've only taken 2 classes so far but I can tell my teacher thinks I'm 'special'. Especially when I completely loose control of the clay and end up scraping the walls to remove the 2 inch 'olive bowl' I used 16 pounds of clay to create. I repeatedly tell her it's actually a celtic vessel made in the traditional western isles style. she aint buying it though. - And I had to get my acrylic nails removed so I'd stop slicing through my creations - so I'm sure this one wont last long

The history books are taking a very long time to digest - but I do get past page 18 which is the deepest dive i managed with any of the 'fascinating' business strategy books that line my now sizable reference library

WTF!!!! My hobbies used to be drinking till i fell over, swearing until I subconsciously broke into Russian and wearing shoes completely inappropriate for the surrounding terrain. what happened? anyone? someone?

I thought I was European until..

On my recent sundance trip I did two things which made me feel like a total hicksville prude.

First up, sharing a room with two girlfriends, I'm chatting, pick up my things go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. As I emerge I think 'why did I just get changed in the bathroom? I'm not 11 years old!!!!!' I shared the thought out loud and they both went 'yeah we did wonder' - obviously had been exchanging looks while I was in there.

Then we saw a movie called 'Choke'. The girl from Trainspotting was in it. A little raunchy for a 8.30am viewing, but funny - I recommend it. But here I had hicksville moment number two. There is a scene in the movie where a female character has engaged the male lead to play out her burglar fantasy and during the act she reaches under the bed and grabs a hairdryer. I'm thinking 'why are people laughing?' I lean over to my friend to ask. Just as I start to whisper ''what's the relevance of the hairdryer?' the 'hairdryer' starts to buzz... Oh the look of disbelief that the California girl gave me, was physically painful.

But of course now they are all considering Scottish colleges for their daughters!