Parental Guidance Advised

I have had such a fab day, and I should be feeling guilty for it, but I’m not. I still have 4300 words to write for my essay and I have a tutorial tomorrow morning to discuss “my progress”. It’ll be fun explaining that I’ve not actually made any progress with it…

This morning I had a meeting about my impending trip to France. Basically I’m scared shitless; my French is nowhere near good enough for me to be able to teach anything other than English and I just know it’s going to end in a horrible tearful mess. But the flights are now booked and Ecole Joseph Bara is expecting me, so let’s hope I find laughter through those tears.

After the meeting I went with GermanBFF to The London Tombs. Oh ho ho, I am about to write a full-on advert for the place! It was a-maze-ing. There is a reason why it won an award for being The Best Scary Thing In The Whole World (or something like that).

Yesterday, as I was stood outside London Bridge Station with a friend, we were so engrossed in conversation, that when a guy walked up to us and said “Good mornin’ ladies…” (in a very straightforward, friendly way) we both squeaked and jumped in shock. He was so chuffed by our over-the-top reaction, that he gave us a 2-4-1 voucher for The London Tombs.

Today I went back (in the snow) to London Bridge with GermanBFF and, again, a dead-looking actor scared the shit out of me completely unintentionally. Again, I got talking to a dead man… and he ended up competing with yesterday’s offer to give us a 2-4-£10 voucher. So… We decided to take him up on his offer! And… we were escorted to the entrance by England’s Fifth Tallest Man. What a title. He was huge. I’ve been Googling to try and varify this but I can’t find a list…

The first part of The Tombs experience wasn’t too exciting; there was nothing scary but some nice acting and impressive interior décor. At the end of the first half we found ourselves having a chat with Santa so that we could pose for a photo sat on his knee (sadly we didn’t waste our money buying it!). It was my chat with Santa that began my trouble.

Santa started waffling on about rabid penguins and asking how we’d escaped them. I’m not sure where it came from or where he was planning on taking it, but I decided to pipe up that I had single-handedly fought off the penguins to save my fellow group-members (a bunch of randomers we’d been allocated), which developed into an in-depth conversation about my heroic penguin fight. As a result, GermanBFF and I were pushed forward first through the doors.

Behind the doors began the second half of the experience… Initially I refused to go; I peaked through and saw a man with a mask on poised to jump out at me so I refused to move away from the comforts of Santa before everyone else had had their photos taken. I was worried GermanBFF and I would be left to wander through the scariness on our own and I had not signed up for that!

Once everyone was through the doors we were given the warning “If you have a heart complaint… epilepsy… or you’re pregnant… Leave now.” And we were lead in our pairings to a green wall for another photo where we were to scream at the camera so that they could superimpose something scary behind us (alas, again, we didn’t waste our money on the photo). Our guide asked GermanBFF and I our names… We didn’t notice that he didn’t ask anyone else.

Through the next door the fun began. We were all lined up in single file and muggins here was ordered to the front. I had to lead the fucking party through the fucking Scariest Scare Attraction In The World Ever. Now, you know me, I don’t mind being the centre of attention from time to time… I’m a teacher, we lead the way… But I really wasn’t up for being at the front, with only GermanBFF’s hands on my shoulders for support. I didn’t argue it; I whimpered that I didn’t think it was a very good idea. But there was no choice in the matter.

I’m not going to spoil the ins and outs of it but… seriously… ridiculously scary. The leader had passed on my name to all the ghosts, ghoulies, zombies, butchers and chainsaw-wielding killers which made it even worse. My name was repeated in the darkest corners in the most hideous voices as things jumped out and grabbed and snarled and… I’m not sure I’ve ever sworn so much in my life. There was a continuous one-woman screaming monologue.

“There is one there. There’s one fucking there! Hiding round that fucking corner. No. No no. No, I know he’s there. I can see you! I can! There! Fuckety fuck. Look there! Fucking fucking hell. No, I will not keep going because he’s fucking there! And he’s going to fucking jump fucking at me! I’m not going to walk towards him, am I? Why would I walk towards him? If I hit him is that GBH? No, seriously, what happens if I hit him?? Go away! Mooove! Fucking fuuuuuck!”

There were strange times when I remembered I had a group of people behind me. I’d run full pelt away from whatever was after me and stop when I felt safe again. But then I remember that if I’d stopped that meant the others had to stop in single file behind me and I worried that the line was so long they’d end up stuck with something tormenting them. So I’d shout back “Is everyone ok..?!” every now and then without even thinking about it. Bizarre.

But when I refused point blank to move at one point, one of them jeered “We’ll let you go rosie, if you give us GermanBFF!” to which I happily turned around and pushed her towards them. Oops.

Christmas for ME!

I am failing at buying Christmas presents.

So far I have spent nearly a whole day trying to buy a present for myself. I wanted a gilet from White Stuff ages ago and I didn’t buy it… but now I want it and they’ve stopped selling the colour I want! I’m very annoyed, and on the verge of buying an over-priced gilet from Jack Wills despite vowing to never buy anything from that damn shop and laughing at friends for wearing their ridiculously over-sized joggers and ridiculously over-priced t-shirts. The gilet’s just so undeniably pretty…

I bought a wee small bit of my sister’s Christmas present and couldn’t resist buying the same for myself. Oops. I can’t go into detail about what it is because she’s is reading (hello!) and it would spoil the surprise. But, again, I spent money on me!!

The only person who’s present I’ve really put some effort into is Mr Delhi’s. Half of it’s bought and would probably be a perfect gift on it’s own, but there’s something else I really want to get him so his present is going to be huuge. And, I don’t know about you, but I think that’s telling me that I made the right decision us-wise. He’s away skiing this week and I’ve missed him.

“…I’m having a pretty rubbish time.”

Panic/Worry… What’s gone wrong? Has he hurt himself??

“Not really, it’s amazing! I just thought that saying it was rubbish would make you feel better for not skiing!”

Lost Post

A lady called Emma, who has a sister/sister-in-law called Anna, has made a mistake with her Christmas shopping orders. She has given my address for all of her deliveries. Noone in my house knows this Emma or Anna, and we’ve never had post for them before so we don’t think they’re ex-tenants. It’s not like they’ve made just one mistake, they’ve used the same address on orders from multiple companies.

So far we have a pretty fancy set of dog bowls, and THREE notes from various delivery companies saying they tried to make a delivery but noone was home.

So do I go to the Post Office depot and pick up these parcels? Or do I let them get sent back to the shop? I’m tempted to put up a sign outside the house asking if anyone knows/is Emma or Anna. I don’t like the thought of someone losing all of their Christmas presents!