emeraldembers | Holiday Post! (Reply)

I AM SO MANLY I BREAK BOATS WITH MY BUTTOCKS.

Monday

After the disaster that was Sunday and plans to set off on holiday then completely failing because both our car and our Aunty's borrowed car were going "HAHAHAHA no" when we attempted to drive them, we finally finished packing up (I didn't even take a suitcase :O. I took one gym-bag full of clothes and shower goodies, and my handbag. EFFICIENCY) and set off.

Nothing much of excitement to report; we set up the tent no problem despite, as ever, forgetting to pack instructions (thank God we choose logically assembled tents), I fell head over heels in love with my iPod Touch now that I've finally got around to using it (it's so logical you guys, I'm not even kidding, I want to cry and kiss whoever designed the human-computer interface for it), I finished re-reading Dune (best sci-fi book evaaaaaar), I nommed on some delicious Kendal mint cake (it's sugar, mint, and milk boiled down into candy. That's pretty much all that's in it and I fail to see ANYTHING WRONG WITH THIS), and I admired the view from outside our tent.

In other news I completed my "If we're ever in a disaster you want either me or my handbag with you" mission by purchasing an emergency blanket. That's right, bitches, I now have a sewing kit, an emergency blanket and whistle, scissors, tourniquets, bandaging material and plasters in my handbag. Oh, and matches, a mobile phone, and pen and paper. You know, if anyone ever nicks my handbag, they're going to feel so confused and/or guilty.

Last thoughts on Monday; further proof I am a meat-eater at heart. First thought on seeing the cute l'il lambs; "Aww". Second thought; "Om nom nom". And yet, I still don't feel as intensely hungry looking at any other animal as I do when looking at the common red starfish. Seriously, just look at that delicious bastard.

Tuesday

Today largely consisted of exploring, getting my legs soaked (well, exploring a stream is wet work), annoying ducks, cows and sheeps, and finding weird-looking mushrooms all over the place.

Now, while I'm glad I didn't eat the one that looked like this:

Because apparently they're bad for you, I'm annoyed I didn't eat the one that looked like this:

Because apparently it tastes pretty darned epic. Oh well.

Also, we wandered on down to the main Pooley Bridge village:

And seriously, everyone, you NEED to go to the Tree Tops cafe there. It's all simple food made REALLY damn well and oh, their desserts, they make slices of tiffin and rounds of shortbread the size of your face, it's amazing.

The remainder of the day largely consisted of having a little snooze (really, should've clicked on around this point that I wasn't that well, but ho-hum) and then being woken up by my sister :D who had come up on the train from Liverpool :D :D and who has a job now :D :D :D. We then had McDonalds like good old country folk (well, when you're getting picked up from the train station you owe people goodies, dontcha know) and playing cards. Mum is suspiciously kick-ass at Rummy, although I appear to be occasionally awesome at knock-out wrist.

Other thoughts from today, in no particular order:

* I think I'm a dog person these days. Used to hate them (largely due to the fact they invariably tried to bite or hump me up until the age of about 18), but my sister's best mate's dog seems to have cured me via its unending silliness and the fact it appears to be head over heels in love with me. I think it's either proposed to me or adopted me in dog speak, whatever being covered head to toe in dog-licks means. But yes, great big furry gits can walk past me now and not only do I not shrink away in horror but I have to repress the urge to pet them.
* GODDAMNIT, ULLSWATER HOTEL. I DON'T WANT TO BE REMINDED OF HOW I WAS MADE, THANK YOU.
* I'm not overweight, I'm just under-tall (I really wish I'd bought that sheep, come to think of it).
* Teeheehee, "Butt House".

Wednesday

New discovery; you will never, ever, ever catch me being as thoroughly and utterly grumpy as I am when I need to pee and people are making it difficult for me to pee. Even if I was amused by CHAINSAW SNORE MAN, who guarded the way to the bathroom. Seriously, I don't know a person who didn't walk past that tent and either giggle or look really, really startled the first time they heard him.

Today's main adventure involved going on a boat so, of course, while waiting for the boat me and my bro had to look all dramatic and stuffs.

But as per usual we couldn't be arsed being sensible for long.

I also had to admire the fact that despite my dad's usual everybody-who-isn't-him-ist rantings, really, you didn't get a lick of trouble from the foreigners waiting for the boat. Now, the UK teenagers on the other hand... DAMN YOU KIDS GET OFF MY ~~LAWN~~ PIER.

Btw, I feel I should mention something about this boat.

(Hell yes I'm on a motherfucking boat. And holding my mum's hand. STFU)

I flooded it when I was a baby. Now, this wasn't my fault - well, not much, being as I was a baby, and can only be given limited responsibility for my bodily functions - as my grandma had been a complete ditz and put my nappy on inside-out. Cue everyone in the neighbourhood getting baby-pee soaked. So my mum and dad, being responsible adults, pegged it to the other side of the boat and hid from my grandma and me.

On today's boat trip I could not help but observe that the dude across from me on the boat has a contender for the world's ugliest tattoo. It seriously looked like one of the bombs from FF10 but with four legs.

Artist's impression, oh yes. And on the way back I saw a little girl in this t-shirt, and it hurt my brain.

The notes from today started to get more and more incoherent in my notepad as my respiratory infection set to work in earnest, but here're some thoughts and odds and ends I recovered:

* All the postcards I've bought (not for sending, I don't do organised things like remember to write people's addresses down for while I'm away) so far have been recipe cards. HMM. Sensing a theme here!
* I am so burnt. Burnt boobs, burnt feet, burnt arms, VERY burnt face. NASAL PEEEEEEL.
* It's curious how little I write when on holiday. Mental exhaustion a la what I get from work I can write with, but physical exhaustion after a day's walking? Nothing. Nada!
* Also, the thing, sheep having rectangular pupils? SO creepy up close. I know it's just an apeture thing, but really.
* GAAAAAAH and can the parental units PLEASE stop talking about Glenridding! I know I was conceived there but please, no parent!sex reminders.
* Ew, melted chocolate mints! Good job I had those in a plastic case or there'd be a mighty mess in here.
* Also, shame on me, I lied... there were kids playing football outside and screaming and swearing at 10pm, and I figured they would probably ignore or stab me if I said "stfu I need to sleep" so I might have asked them could they keep quiet 'cause of the baby. *whistles innocently*
* General observations about holidays;
1) Sleeping hours go sane (i.e. going to bed 10pm, waking up 7.30am, WHAT)
2) Hygiene goes out the window (I can just about brush my teeth and wash my face still but anything past that and I'm like STFU I HAVE DEODORANT AND CLEAN KNICKERS ON LET THAT BE ENOUGH UNTIL I CAN HAVE A BATH)

Thursday

Today, of course, we went out again because staying in is something we can do at home, after a fabulous sunset last night.

I wore black leggings (I caved, and happily, given leggings have come on a long way since I wore them last, as have my legs, and they have been so comfy and warm and practical omg), a purple skirt, a blue vest, a purple bandana, black flipflops (also epic; thank you Superdry at Cult, £10 and these scraps of plastic have done me more good than my converse - they've protected me effortlessly from tarmac, pebbles, mud, verrucas, bugs, and let me walk on anything), and it's a good job I didn't get run over, because I'd been wearing a pink and blue embroidered lace bra with yellow and grey cotton knickers.

OH YEAH, COORDINATION. Also, as usual, not wearing make-up, but doubly so today because ew, sunburn under makeup? Bad combination.

By now I was burnt to an utter crisp, and every inch of me that wasn't burnt was pink with sweat. I had walked and walked and walked and come to the conclusion that my legs are fabulous because even though the rest of me felt dead they just wouldn't tire of putting one foot in front of the other. I borrowed my sister's cardigan, accidentally a fishing net (the whole fishing net!), had myself put in (flattering) danger of drowning, and broken a boat.

I was flooded with swine flu, wrote the notes for today on wrapping paper in the girl's toilets, and I was buzzing.

So, today's main adventure.

Row row row your boat gently down the stream - OH GOD NO, NOT THAT ONE.

Basically, me, my sis and my brother piled into the rowing boat - WHICH SAID IT WAS MADE FOR THREE PEOPLE - sat down, rowed out into the middle of the lake... and then there's an almighty crack. About two seconds later, me and my little brother have bruised arses and the wooden bar across the middle of the boat is DESTROYED. So, er, a little bit sheepishly, we row back, explain what's happened, and set out in another boat. This time I'm the rower. This is a mistake.

You see, my little brother might be dyspraxic, but he has coordination. I do not. We went in circles for about twenty minutes, nearly destroyed a few row boats and yachts, and nearly went up the river instead of back to the lake's shore at the end of the hire period. I just... was not so good.

Either way, a fun time was undeniably had, and we were wandering back to the tent, when two things occurred to us. One; my lifejacket was designed to support 90kg. Which, you know, is flattering, but I'm 99kg. In the event of capsizing, I am destined to drown. Two; we realised that despite going up to the hire stall with my brand new bright pink net, no one could recall paying for it. Bloody scousers.

And then my little brother won the holiday by exclaiming in glee of our boat-breaking adventures: "I'm so manly I break boats with my buttocks!"

Friday

When we weren't playing the name game today (You say one celebrity, e.g. Patrick Stewart, and the next person has to name a celebrity whose first name begins with that surname's letter, e.g. Stéphane Lambiel, only we were playing it on Hard Mode, where you can only name people where someone in the family fancies that celebrity) or sleeping, I was mostly being ill. Or silly, like when my sister said "Oxy Moron! He's hot!" as part of aforementioned name game and I replied "Hot as ice! See what I did there?" because I'm a dork.

I do, however, have to give full credit to my tent-neighbours for waking me up with Muse. OOOOOOOOOOOOH YOU SET MY SOUL ALIGHT oh yes you do, Matt Bellamy, yes you do. There was also a strange theme of toucans, which may have been partially induced by the fact that at this point I was largely actually delirious with ill, hooray.

Anyhow, we went to a pub called The Travellers' Rest in Glenridding, not far from the Ullswater Hotel where as my parents are OVERLY FOND of reminding me, I was conceived. The main reason for taking me to this pub now I suspect was due to the fact they took me here as a 6-week-old baby (and being a hefty lump they had to keep reminding everyone SUPPORT HER HEAD DAMNIT I KNOW SHE LOOKS 6 MONTHS BUT SHE ISN'T) and were being mushy, aww.

And, being a poky little pub in the middle of nowhere, of COURSE the lighting was a bit dodgy, which was delightfully atmospheric.

I, of course, had steak. At least, I think it was steak, the plate they served me was the size of a whole cow.

But anyway, today was of particular significance because - well, you know how I keep having weird things happen to me that just don't happen to other people that increasingly leave me with the sense that some celestial being somewhere really thinks I'm incorrect in being straight?

After nipping to the tiny bathroom of the pub, I opened the cubicle door afterwards and found I now had company in the form of three Polish blondes who'd wedged themselves into barely enough room for two people, in the dark as the power played up yet again, and ALL THREE POLISH BLONDES had their skirts up and pants off because they'd dashed into the bathroom to change their tights.

I. Kid. You. Not.

Also, hold on one moment. Me and dad headed down on our own separate from everyone else into the ~~British wilderness~~ Lake District. In the middle of the night. From a poky little pub in the middle of nowhere. Where the locals kept staring at me weirdly. When there was a full moon. The live music had SERIOUSLY JUST PLAYED "Bad Moon Rising".