Saturday’s House Guests: The Best Weekend … Ever!

I woke up in the morning with us all huddled in bed together. Goatee was in the kitchen making eggy bread and bacon, and there was a layer of snow out on the ground. The original plan was to go site seeing, but we couldn’t pass up a chance to play in the snow.

After breakfast, we went into the garden to make snow angels and the weakest little snowmen ever. Goatee brought us mugs of Irish hot chocolate, and kept the fire blazing inside. Every once and a while, we’d run back inside to warm up, before heading out again. Goatee was so cute; he acted like a Dad, ‘Don’t forget your scarf’, ‘Do you have your woolie hat?’ 

By noon we came in for a sandwich and decided to head into Glasgow city centre. D brought a Glasgow guide, and Goatee really wanted to show us around the city.  But, while Goatee is fun and all, I just wanted time with my girls. Although, because he’d been so cool to let us take over his house, I didn’t feel comfortable telling him that he couldn’t come. So before I knew it, he had D’s guide and was leading us into town.

Picture obviously taken on a weekend without snow.

We started off with Barras, a big market. None of us bought anything, but we all had a good rummage. Then we had a wander about Merchant City and Goatee pointed out cool historic features on buildings. We popped into a bunch of cute little arty shops for a nosy about, and got a coffee as well.

By 3:30 it was getting dark. I’m so not exaggerating. I hadn’t before realised how early it gets dark in Glasgow; I guess that’s what happens when you sit in an office all day. B asked if there was any ice skating rinks for the winter, and Goatee said that Glasgow has the biggest outdoor rink in Europe. (I had no idea), so we went over to George Square.

The lights were beautiful, and the tree was all done up. D wouldn’t get on the ice, and I was kind of nervous as I hadn’t skated (roller or ice) since I was a kid. But B talked me into it, so Goatee got us three pairs of skates. When we were putting on our skates I noticed Goatee’s socks. They were black with little light blue dots on them. I realised that he always matches his socks to his clothes, and today the dots in his socks perfectly matched the blue of his jumper. How cute.

D stood against the wall on the outside laughing at us. B whizzed around like a pro, and I was all shaky legs holding onto the rail. Goatee took my hands, and he skated backwards so that I could hold on to him while I went forwards. B must have past us several times. Eventually, I got the hang of it, and I only needed to hold his one hand. B came over and grabbed the other and we skated in a line. A ton of little kids kept going under our held hands, like they were going under a bridge. Goatee let go of my hand, and B and I skated for a bit, while Goatee stood on the side and talked to D. We were having a blast until some little ned kid knocked me over. We were getting cold and tired anyway, and D suggested that we head out to a club that evening.

We went back to Goatee’s, and he suggested cooking us dinner before going out to the nightclub. We sat in the lounge drinking read wine while Goatee cooked pad thai and homemade spring rolls. We got to reminiscing, and D reminded us of this crazy time R jumped over a wall and broke his foot. But he was so drunk, he didn’t know his foot was broken and he ran on it. He had to have surgery and still has a pin in his ankle. That happened just a few weeks after R saved a cyclist’s life. He saw this guy on a bike get hit by a car, and R gave the guy CPR until the paramedics arrived. R was always the bravest one out of all of us, and I really do miss him. 

I even hooked up with R a couple of times in first year. He’s such a great guy, but I knew – even back then – he had feelings for S. In fact, I think the only reason he hooked-up with me was because M and S got together. (You know, I’ve never explained my little group before. I’ve put a diagram of how we know each other on ‘other (un)interesting stuff’.)

Thanksgiving comes to Britain

B had the idea to Skype R, while we waited for our dinner. Luckily, we caught him. He had the week off because of Thanksgiving holiday, but he didn’t go out of town. Instead, he’s spent Thursday at a friend’s family’s eating Thanksgiving dinner. He said he’s never been so stuffed in his life, and he’s decided to bring the holiday back to Britain with him. We told him that it had snowed, and he was really sad to have missed it. And then we laughed about last winter’s big snow debacle, when we claimed we couldn’t get into our respective jobs because of the snow, and just spent the day attempting to sledge using tea trays. 

Eventually, dinner was served, so we said our good-bye’s to R. Poor Goatee had to listen to our stories all through dinner, and by the fourth bottle of wine we were just getting silly. It wasn’t that late, but it was evident we weren’t going out clubbing, so we changed into our jammies and decided to have a slumber party in the lounge. We drug all the duvets and pillows downstairs, and B even joked about making a fort. D called Goatee Dad, and asked him ‘If we’re good can we stay up past midnight.’

Goatee took the old man joke well and said, ‘Yeah, but you’ll get punished if you’re naughty.’

B was trying to open our fifth bottle of wine but couldn’t get the cork out. She had the bottle between her legs and she was tugging and tugging. It kind of looked like she was straining to shit. We laughed our asses off. Even Goatee.

By this point, we were looking for a drinking game, and Goatee suggested ‘Truth or Dare.’ B thought it would be fun, but I reminded them that we already know each other’s secrets, so it would probably be kind of boring. Goatee decided that this was his cue to say ‘good night’ and stood up to go to bed, when D dropped a serious bomb. 

She said, ‘Well, there’s one secret you don’t know.’

Now, I know I talk a lot on this blog, but at least it’s all my own gossip. This is B and D’s secret, and I don’t think they would appreciate it if I posted their private lives on the internet. But let me tell you, it was a doozie. You could have knocked me over with a feather. Goatee was pretty surprised as well; he turned back around and sat down in the arm chair wanting to hear the gossip.

Evidently, it happened back in third year, one night when I was out with TheBoy. All that needs to be said is, ‘There was drink involved.’

Once they told me the story, it all makes since. I can’t believe they had kept this a secret for so long. I remember a point in third year, when they were being awkward with each other. B and D eventually resolved things…until now. So, it got messy again.

By midnight, B was in tears in the bathroom, and D was screaming through the door. Goatee got manish, ignored our drama, and eventually went off to bed. I finally got B out of the bathroom. I had to pee like a race horse, and I was NOT pissing in the kitchen sink, or in the garden, as was suggested by B. Once B was out, and I’d used the toilet, I made her realise that it was no big deal. For some reason D took offense to my statement, so I had to pacify her as well.

I made us all hot coco and suggested that we watch Mean Girls on Sky. Within the first five minutes of the film, we were back to snuggling on the sofa and being the best of friends. God, I adore my girls, and that night I was so sad, because I didn’t want them to leave.

Friday’s Adventures with the House Guests
Sunday’s Good-Bye

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2 responses to “Saturday’s House Guests: The Best Weekend … Ever!

  1. Oh my goodness, how very strange, the very same thing happened to me. One night walkinghome after one too many vodkas I took the wrong turn, jumped over a wall and broke MY ankle and I was stuck in an alleyway for an hour on my toosh until someone came along to help — so your friend R must have been totally tanked or must reallybe some kind of superhunk of a man to get up and run after something like that. Oh, and i have a steel pin in my ankle still too, which is kinda creepy if you think about it. BTW I’m just lovin yur blog!!!

    • I think any normal person would have been in pain, but R is a bit of a madman when he drinks. You know the guy-type, will find any excuse to proove his testosterone level is higher than a gorilla’s. And yes, very, very, very drunk. Crazy that the same thing happened to both of you. Perhaps, it’s more of a common occurance than you’d think. Maybe they should do a public service campaign about it, ‘Kids, don’t jump over walls when drunk. And eat your veg.’ Glad you love the blog, and thanks for commenting.

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