Photo Finish (A Halloween Miracle)

With 90 minutes on the clock and only one minute of injury time to be played good fortune struck a belter into the net and saved the day. Yes, our costumes did arrive. I attribute our luck in having said costumes delivered mere hours away from the party celebrating the pagan ritual of Hallows Eve to my long standing worship of the pagan God Bastardus Jammya.

It was 11am on the 31st day since ordering the Deluxe Jack Skellington costume and the Sexy Wonder Woman costume from toynk.com via EBay. My mum was coming to pick me up so we can do our weekly Asda run in fifteen minutes so I was getting ready to leave the house when my door was chapped. You might expect a deity handed my that box, a golden vision maybe a burning bush but in fact it was a short middle aged man on the wrong side of thirty in a dishevelled blue uniform.

I couldn’t believe it. I had remarked to Michelle earlier in the week that with my luck the costumes would turn last minute but even I didn’t believe that my uncanny ability to “always land on my feet” would help us this time. I’ll never disbelieve again.

***

The party was a great success and everyone did a great job with their costumes, in particular Scott’s headless man, Gary’s granny wolf and, for his all too convincing character acting, Dillon’s performance as the über ned/chav Dilz.

Some of the night’s highlights include Dillon’s (As Dilz) techno rave dancing, Dillon’s (as himself) being shoot in the ass with an airsoft rifle at his request, and if I’m not mistaken Jack Skellington’s rendition of Aqualung’s Strange & Beautiful was quite well received. I’m unsure of this because as remarkable as the talking mask was it’s faults lay in the almost total lack of vision sound and air. Most likely to be the most talked about event of the evening was the appearance of Laura and Stuart’s forty something drug indulging slut neighbour known only as The Razzler.

***

The meaning of the Razzler’s title is still shrouded in mystery and her exploits, dating back to the time before Laura and Stuart had even heard of their now home and far too notorious and explicit to see print in these pages, but rest assured they are the stuff of depraved legend. Like a buzzing fly she appeared seemingly from nowhere and could not be removed. Claiming that she wanted to see the flats balcony at 3:30 in the morning The Razzler was no sooner in the door when a drink and a fag (in the non-smoking flat) materialised in her had and she had settled into a seat, integrating herself in the middle of people’s conversations.

Knowing my tolerance of unknown people and interlopers Laura asked if I could get her to leave. I considered doing so but knowing that Laura and Stuart had to live next to this woman I decided that my careful chosen words, “get out”, lacked the finesse that was required.

It wasn’t long after that until a series of faux taxi’s were being phoned and two by two the guest of the party retreated in hiding to there faux home a.k.a. Laura and Stoo’s Bedroom. Michelle and I along with Stuart’s younger brother Gordon were forced to actually exit the flat with the virtually pulling the Razzler with us out of the door. Eventually though she did go across the hall to her own home, but not before asking Gordon if he was sure he didn’t want to join her for “a wee drink an a smoke”. I’m assuming she was not reffering to tobacco as earlier in the night she had explained that her fourteen and sixteen year old boys were in the flat getting stoned while she forced her company on us. Fourteen and sixteen.

After the bothersome entity had bee exercised the night continued (sans time change) to 6am, when tired eyes prevailed over drunken minds. This was much to the disappointment of Stoo and Michelle who were up for more chat and finishing the already half finish bottle of Southern Comfort they had started scat hours before.

***

Tonight is the “post match” dinner at Shenanigans before we see Second Hand Elastic Band a.k.a. Gary’s band play at the same venue, and I’ve just realised that Stoo will be dropping by to pick us up any second.

Until next time then.

P.S. Thanks to Dave Hogg for providing the link pictures - to see more Halloween photos follow this link

4x3

So we get one of those wee cards through the door, you know the ones that say you have to go down the centre to the post office to collect something, and it says we have to pay £1.27 postal or something like that. So Michelle and I are all like "Cool beans that must be the Halloween costumes!”. So I get showered and dressed and get on my way down to the collection point full of smiles and relief that our costumes had finally arrived. You might even say I had a spring in my step.

So I get to the post office window, I've got my smash ready to had over and I ask the gentleman behind the counter to bring me my goods. Off he goes then into the back, he's a few minutes back there but I don't mind, I figure that maybe the box/boxes are awkward to carry due to the size of them. He's soon back at the window and I'm confused because he's not plunked down a couple of awkward boxes in front of me. He's not even plunked an easily handed box down, no; he has gently placed a 4x3 inch envelope in front of his customer. Me.

I study this posty guy for a sec. He's not got a lot to do behind this window I think. He's bored and having a little joke at my expense. He must read my thoughts because he says
"You can read it and decide if you want to pay if you like".
I do as he suggests and remove a small card from the small envelope which proclaims 'Thank You!' rather than the 'You're on Candid Camera!' I was hoping for. Inside the card is my sisters hand writing thanking Uncle Craig and Auntie Michelle for the Dora the Explorer Leapster game I bought my niece Anna for her 4th birthday singed off with her own oversized, yet impressive for a new four-year-old, signature. Needless to say; I paid.

My sister assures me that she did put a stamp on the card but since that time I've learned that several others also had to make a pilgrimage to their own post offices to pay for their own 4x3 inch card.

Dull Boy

Yes I’ve already complained about this, I know, but that was more of a “I won’t see Michelle” gripe while this is a “My life without me” gripe. Seriously I have no time for me! I have college, course/home work , study and my job Monday to Friday, I have a few measly hours on a Saturday once I take away food shopping and general home making things (a woman’s works never done… hey wait a minute…)and Sunday (this is not a moan) is my day with Michelle. So Let’s see That’s Monday to Friday, Saturday and Sunday covered so that leaves… right. Look at the time I’m doing this at if you think I’m exaggerating!

On a separate note our Halloween costumes haven’t arrived yet and the party’s on Saturday. I hope they come during the week because I have no time (did I mention that before) to get another and have vowed to turn up in a pair of tighty whitey Y’s if I do not receive the costumes.

In the mean time, at least I have my writing to keep me happy.

All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Craig a dull boy.

37 hours

Band E1 Administrative Officer for Operational Services based in HM Reverence & Customs Centre One tax office. As of yesterday that’s me, that’s who I am Monday to Friday from 5pm to 10pm.

If the training for the post is anything to go by then it should be pretty easy money (not to mention a tidy sum for part time employment) and indeed very welcome money with our, Michelle and I, nuptials seemingly steamrolling their approach.

As happy as I am to no longer be a kept man and contribute to our household income I am troubled that my new found employment is a regrettable thief of time. More precisely time with my Fiancée.

I have long considered myself to be a loner – someone more comfortable with my own company than that of others – in truth though I’ve discovered that it’s not solitude I crave but comfort. I’m never happier than in the company of those I can be myself with, with whom I feel no pressure to entertain or pander to. The list of these people is short to be sure (though expanding throughout this year) and each person on it has earned my ease with long hours of laughter, personal history and of course the ‘power chat’. This wasn’t the case with Michelle though.

I have always felt a deep sense of serenity in Michelle’s presence from the very moment I met her. No doubt my reader’s eyes are rolling to the ceiling with this sugar-coated stack of sentiment; nevertheless, it’s true I assure you. I can’t tell you the date we met and at that time it was the wrong thing to be feeling given that I was meeting my friend’s (my best friend’s – my practical brother’s!) new girlfriend but I can tell you that she gave me a most unsettling calm.

Since moving in together two years ago Michelle and I have spent 90% of our free time together and I fear for how we will fare now having to be so much apart. I don’t worry that our relationship will suffer - not at all. My plight is that Michelle hates to be alone. Ask my bride-to-be and she will tell you different no doubt, but, I know her better than anyone and I know that she hates to be without me. I might sound like a braggart, big headed even but I know that what I say I true for the simple reason that the same is true of me. Our only difference is that I have things to fill my isolation – such as computer games, comic books, and the writing of overly long Blogs for example. Michelle has no such hobbies to pass her time and as anyone knows a night alone in front of the television is a long night indeed.

To see someone 37 hours a week sounds not too bad to any of you I’m sure. This estimate however is a ‘best case’ estimate and one that includes the wee hours of a Saturday night and is comprised mostly of our only day together with drips and drabs of the spare week day hours making the final amount.

As I said before - I’m sure your eyes are rolling at the melodrama of my troubles. Especially since I’m a student making a close to full time wage, however if I could ask you the favour of remembering that Michelle will be on her own for the majority of the following months (years?) I would be grateful if you could maybe send her a short text or give her a short phone call from time to time. Cheers.

IKEAthon

After getting home from Kenny and Claire’s housewarming at 12:30 on Saturday night I have to say that I wish I had stayed for a couple of more hours. My thinking at the time was that I was going to Ikea the on Sunday and that it would probably be a hard day, what with shopping for the furniture, then the building of the furniture. Wide awake and at home early on a Saturday I though at the time I must have been crazy to leave the party – as it turns out though I was right.

Stuart and Laura, our kindly chaperons, picked us up to go just after 1pm. We got back just before 8pm. How in the hell we spent over five hours in the one shop I’ll never know. Not that I wasn’t as much to blame as anybody. There wasn’t a model kitchen, bathroom, study, bedroom or even utility room that we didn’t look at or a product that we didn’t at least look at once and even at that our duration still baffles me.

I’m aware that this sound like a moan and that I’m making out it was a terrible day – that wasn’t the case at all I was just shocked at the time frame in which it took place! In fact I only have two complaints about the day at all. Firstly, and I suppose not so bad, is that we forgot to get a towel rail – I know “so what” but it’s annoying to forget little things. The second moan I have concens the fact that half way though the day, while stopping for a bite to eat, I got a pain in… let just say a delicate area, and that said pain did not subside until later that night.

So got a new footstool/chest, a huge bathroom cabinet, cushions for the seat which I am sitting on as I type, bed side lamps, shelving for the bedroom and a whole mess of other crap which somehow came up to a fairly substantial amount. Well the plan was to do the house up… so I guess this is what it takes to get it done.

Worst Uncle EVER

Today is my niece Anna’s 4th Birthday.

Since she lives down south I ordered, as per my sisters suggestion, Dora the Explorer - Leapster Software (I believe Leapster is a sort of preschool Gameboy with educational virtues) for her from Amazon. As I ordered it on Wednesday I was fairly confident that the gift, wrapped and with message, would surely reach my sisters door either on Friday or better still today. It did not.

Worse still is that yesterday, I saw this package as my saving grace. Arriving home in the late afternoon after being in Glasgow I near immediately watched the season premier of Smallville Season 5 and following that was visited by Jim. At 16:30 dressed in joggies and an old t-shirt I realised that I had forgot to pick up a card, and with the post pick up at 17:00 I knew that there was no time to get one.

Although I’m sure Anna won’t care, she’ll be surrounded with cards and gifts, I feel I’ve let her down. After all though the cards and gifts she will receive today will be plentiful, they will be sent by a multitude of people including my parent friends as well as my sister and brother-in-law’s. These people are virtual strangers to Anna but managed the simple and swift task that I failed.