Yeah well it’s not the first time…

And it probably won’t be the last.
I genuinely fail to understand how I am supposed to reply to text messages that I have not received! In the absence of ren and stimpy “eureka” and a little picture of an envelope how I am I supposed to know that somewhere floating in the ether is a message waiting ti descend into my phone?…I am asking in all seriousness, have I got a bit of brain or tech know-how missing?

Back to reality then after a lovely weekend in wales .
I can summarise my trip in photos..

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Do any of those need explanation??? First off delicious meal cooked by lovely friend – it was her first attempt at vegetarian cooking anf I thoroughly approved!
Secondly a  visit to (googles name) st fagans ( im told you don’t say it Fayy-guns but rather as it looks…anyway this place is some sort of outdoor national history museum…full of buildings moved brick by brick for their preservation to this site. Despite the hoards of tourists the place remains peaceful (due to the size of the place) and encompasses a lot of rural welsh history. Very pretty, interesting and complete with an old fashioned high street and funfair including hall of mirrors (yup. Im not actually that short) then delicious dinner at a veggie place ( complete with awesome wooden mooses head and neon sign saying ‘eat art, drink music’ which I kind of want for my living room). After this on to a cocktail bar which I would sooner forget, followed by a charming bar with garlands, parasols, fairylights, beds, (not as in a hotel, or a brothel, they just substituted for seats. Downstairs they played old black and white films on a projecter and the cutest old piano was tucked away behind the stairs.

Basically there were some really cute and kooky places in Cardiff, but you know what…there is also a darker side of a night out on the town!

I’m not used to walking onto a street only to see a bloke and woman rutting against each other…gr…oss!!
Now I know that I complain about lack of compliment and attention but really I didn’t expect our taxi driver to ask if we were out on ‘the hunt’ and then proceeded to sing ‘lady in red’ very badly at me ( oh god! Should have gone with the maxi dress…red minidress a little too much for some people to stay polite about. ) I suffered looks in the restaurant which I interpreted as ‘you are too old to wear stuff like that’ and after having some gross letchy Chav ask I’d the seat next to me was taken (yes it was) loitering then touching my hair…well I haven’t needed to use that particular reflex for quite some time but it quickly returned.   I immediately spun around and shot a look that said ‘get the fuck off me or I’ll kick you in the nuts’

I still have that knack it seems.

The rest of the evening I avoided eye contact with anyone except my immediate company, completely paranoid that I looked like a hooker (overdressed 30-something..).

Argh! So maybe there is something between no attention and being letched at where I could be happy. Plus I learnt something…although mojitos are delicious, daquiris are unpalatable and heartburn inducing.

What happened? How did I become so old and nervous and worrisome? Maybe it’s because I care. I now care what happens, who has fun, who gets hurt, what I feel like. I consider the consequences whereas I never really thought I had anything to lose when I was younger. To some extent I didn’t care because I figured I wouldn’t be alive to have to handle the fallout.

Right now, even though I’m unsure, even though I feel chubby, even though I know I’m nothing but a catalogue of faults and errors, I still think it’s an improvement on the earlier versions of me. If only someone could learn to love or at least overlook or forgive  those faults and misdemeanors…that would make life a whole different spectrum of colours.

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