Beep beep, beep beep, yeah?

With the ever increasing rise in car insurance I have started contemplating whether to give up my reliable motor in favour for public transport. Despite being 31 years old, I only passed my test in my 20’s because I have never had that desire to own my own set of wheels, and although a car brings a lot of independence, it also brings a lot of hassle.

My first was a Blue Vauxhall Nova called George. He was a cheeky chappy and I have some fond memories of us driving around town with the windows down singing at the top of my voice to the songs on the radio. Every now and then, I would introduce him to one of my many classic tape cassettes, as being an older model he wasn’t up to date with the modern technology of other cars. That didn’t faze me though because who needs central locking, an iPod docking station and air con? As long as I used my steering lock every day, I felt happy knowing he was safe. It was a sad day when I got a knock on the door one Saturday night from the police to inform me George had been stolen and was found burnt out two streets away from my house.

It took me a long time to get over that.

Despite my mourning, I knew I had to move on. Relying on public transport was draining me of all hope that not having a car wasn’t a bad thing. I was already friends with Clarissa because she was my sister’s car and when she had the opportunity to go to South Africa, I saw my chance also. Clarissa was a cute silver Corsa, and always liked it when I hung flowered air fresheners from her mirror. A typical girl who loved accessories and perfume so I would always ensure she looked glam and smelt good, especially as she used to flirt a lot with the blue Mini Cooper Convertible parked in our road.

My relationship with Clarissa blossomed over discussions about Westlife and Take That. She used to love it when I played “Flying without wings” really loud, but for some reason, always made me change it to something more upbeat and “cool” whenever we stopped at traffic lights. To this day, I still don’t know why she did that.

My heart was broken yet again when I awoke to find someone had broken in and tried to rob her of the steering wheel. She must have put up quite a fight because the person responsible gave up and just left her sitting there with broken pieces of plastic all over the drivers mat and wires hanging from her once perfect frame. According to the police, it’s a frequent crime with Corsa’s. Infact I remember the same thing happened to a guy I was seeing around about the same time…but I won’t go into that.

I have been with my current car for 5 years now. We’ve had our ups and downs like most relationships, but touch wood nothing bad has happened to him except for a broken heater, dodgy lock and only one speaker working. Perhaps it’s the reliability of the Ford KA that does it. Maybe the youths of the day don’t see them to be anything more than throwing crisps over or stealing hub caps from. We’ve been through a lot together. We’ve laughed, cried and sang songs…I’ve even treated him to a car wash or two.  The only downside to Ury is his annoying ability to break things. There seems to be a constant need to change light bulbs and windscreen wiper blades, not to mention the amount of money I have spent buying mirror adhesive pads.

As George and Clarissa are now relishing their new life in car heaven, and with my insurance renewal fast approaching, I find myself back at my initial thought of whether to end my loyal relationship with Ury and start using the bus, but in retrospect, I don’t think I could do it. Despite the money draining vehicle he is, I have to remind myself getting the bus will mean having to travel with the public, and you haven’t seen the types of people who ride our busses. Just thinking about it makes me shudder. I do love Ury, and we have many adventures together, so why give that up to stand out in the cold waiting for a bus, which lets face it, will probably never turn up anyway?

Lazy Saturday

Today I am doing nothing! Infact, I am typing this sprawled out on the sofa whilst my housemate is watching some American detective programme on FX. Not really sure what it is but it looks a little bit depressing and I’m not in the mood for that kind of viewing today. It’s all about chilling after spending the morning catching up with my best friend, Amy. I haven’t had a day like this for so long and I’m feeling quite content about keeping it this way.

I have been in my new house now for three weeks and the anxiety and upheaval of moving, changing addresses and settling in has finally calmed down, which feels good. I was a walking stress bomb for so long and I finally feel like I can breathe again rather than wanting to burst into tears every five minutes! My family have been fantastic, and I dread to think what I would have been like without them, but it’s a relief to know I’m out of that situation and can get back to normality.

So as I continue my afternoon of nothingness, I am looking forward to cooking a nice meal tonight and watching X Factor, reading some trashy magazines, maybe watch a movie and even fit in a quick cat nap too. Couldn’t ask for any better than that, unless of course Brad Pitt or Gerard Butler were to knock on my door…..now that would certainly change things!

Still too early?

It’s that time of the year again, isn’t it? You know what I mean. That time when a nice afternoon trip into town involves fighting amongst the crowds of people scrambling around as they begin their preparations for the big day. You can’t go anywhere without seeing family tins of chocolate on offer, or the novalty socks and ties that Dad’s think are hilarious to wear to work, all displayed so proudly just waiting to be bought. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t usually sound this pessamistic, but really, let’s enjoy halloween and bon fire night before we jump on board Santa’s sleigh and “ho ho ho” our way towards the end of the year.

I probably didn’t do myself any favours as my doomed visit at the weekend was tainted by the effects of the four bottles of fish polluted wine I drank the night before which, on reflection, were clouding my overall mind, body and soul function that day. Even my attempt to make chocolate caramel cornflake cakes resulted in a melted plastic bowl and a kitchen floor covered in crushed cereal. That was a great one to explain to the new housemates! I did stop to watch a group of dancers dressed as zombies reinacting Michael Jackson’s Thriller though, but that was probably because I felt more at home amongst their dark eyes, crazy hair and fuzzy head movements than anything else.

I’m sure some time over the next nine weeks I’ll get caught up and swept along with the rush and excitement, but for now when I go shopping again, I really would appreciate it if people would just get out of my way!

Fish in Wine

Last night I was enjoying a relaxing night out with my new house mates and some friends at our local discussing everything and anything over our third bottle of rose, when someone decided to announce that wine contains traces of fish. This didn't go down too well with me especially as I was sipping the drink while she said it. Now, maybe I'm being a little bit ignorant, but isn't wine made of grapes? The thought of swallowing a fish bone and being rushed to A&E on a Friday night isn't my idea of a good time, so after carefully checking the glass (and bottle) for traces of the scaley creatures, I read the labelling and there was nothing to indicate that this product contained fish. To my relief I reassured my friends and happily carried on drinking. However, the conversation didn't end there. "It's true, it contains fish bladders".  At this point, there wasn't a dry person around the table thanks to the projectile wine pertruding from my mouth. I couldn't take it anymore so out came my phone and I was straight onto Google asking "does wine contain fish?" and there it was in black and white....yes! To my dismay, I continued to read how there is a protein in fish bladders used to improve the clarity of wine by removing unwanted compounds. I was relieved to learn these fish products do get removed in the overall filtering process, but like all food and drink, it is never fully possible that all are removed, hence the reason why some bottles do show the warning. With this cleared up, there was only one thing left to do. I shuddered as I looked at the empty bottle sitting infront of me, and like a piece of bait luring me in, I picked up my purse, walked to the bar...and bought another bottle!