Series Two...
I've known H since I was eleven when my family and I met her grandparents on holiday in France. We were penpals throughout school and uni and I still have EVERY ONE of her letters!
This is from when we holidayed inFrance when we were sixteen or so. We would drink raspberry wine thinking that we were oh so sophisticated.
My favourite piccy of all. We went to Ibiza together (with Ali) in 1998.
Rome. (Have just realised just how many times we went on holiday together!). Originally the holiday was for myself, H and my mum. Mum couldn't come as she was booked in for an op so my then boyfriend begged me to invite him.
Did I mention it was Valentines weekend too?
A romantic weekend with my best friend and boyfriend.
Needless to say the friendship survived, the relationship didnt!
In Glasgow for her Aunt and Uncles wedding anniversary. We looked fantastic that night.
Me, Chuzzle, Jim and H. One of those rides that drops you from a great height. We looked petrified!
Reading festival, 2000. We got upgraded to VIP camping and camped in the tent next to friends of The Bluetones.It was also the weekend that we nearly met famous people. First when Jarvis Cocker and Finlay Quaye were trawling around the campsite looking for a joint. They partied with the guys next door whilst we slept on! Second when we sneaked in backstage (H has a way of making people do what she wants them too.. a bit like a jedi mind trick except she uses her feminine wiles!) and almost met Tom Jones.
But didn't. Bugger.
Right so I've bored you silly with my slide shows of H and Spunky. Who's next?
8 comments:
H, I totally understand the Denise Richards lookey likey thing now!!
Ok so I think I ought to fill in a few of the gaps here. I think I got off lightly with the Ibiza photo. I’m lucky she didn’t show the ones from a few minutes later where I was snogging the face off some random (and probably hideous) guy. I’m leaning on that wall because otherwise I would have been on the floor. I was absolutely totally and utterly plastered. Oh and those black straps are my micro backpack that was slipping off my shoulders, not some druggy vein popping device!
Rome, fab but freezing. We were staying in one of the poshest hotels in Rome and when we asked a taxi driver to take us back there, he wouldn’t because we were looking so scruffy he thought we’d got it wrong! Feb’s a good time to go though because you can actually get close to the Trevi Fountain.
We took her bf but the travel guy who’d arranged the trip had a humongous crush on Nat (understandable as I’m sure you’ll agree) so he arranged for Nat’s flight back to be about 5 hrs later than ours. Which meant that early on Valentine’s Day I went home with her boyfriend (and because of him we were literally seconds away from missing our flight but that’s another story) and she stayed on and got to look round the Pantheon or the Colliseum or something with the travel guy!
Glasgow. Absolutely flipping wicked evening. Especially considering we only bought our outfits that day - that’s usually a recipe for serious fashion disaster! Even my Dad got tipsy that night. A thing unheard of before or since.
Reading 2000. There are some vital bits of info she’s missing out here. She’s failing to mention that though my flirting skills worked on the security bloke at the VIP entrance, to my immense chagrin they failed disastrously on the B****** of a security guard at the exit gate of the VIP area which was only a few hundred yards from our tent. Which meant that I waited at the gate (he would only let us back in if one of us stayed) while Nat had to do a mile’s detour to the pleb’s exit so that she could get back to the tent and get our jumpers cos it was turning chilly.
Unfortunately for me she met some blokes on the way and proceeded to have a Vodka-downing competition or something. By the time she got back to me about an hour later, she was completely and utterly trashed so that, later that night, when we were in our jammys and ready for bed, she passed out so utterly and completely that when I heard Jarvis coming over and elbowed her severely in the ribs (while whispering frantically, “Wake up Wake up, Jarvis is outside!”) she sat bolt upright, yelled “JARVIS!!!” at top volume - and then passed out again. This was obviously followed by not so muffled gigglings and guffaws from Jarvis and his assembled crowd. I contemplated sauntering nonchalantly out of the tent and then casually asking Jarvis to sign my pants but was far too mortified. And yet another celebrity meeting opportunity passed us by :)
P.S. Moo, thanks but i don't look like her really, i don't have her boobs or her legs for a start!!
That'd be "the Colosseum" then... Oops!
My God H you write long comments.
Where has yo blog gone?
I am very disapointed with you.
Sorry. I do tend to be a bit verbose!
Blog was boring me so i killed it. My life is nowhere near as interesting as yours or Nat's! :)
H, I'm very disapointed in you. Whose blog am I going to check daily now?
You get multiple daily emails from me anyway don't you?? Is this not enough? :)
I'm gutted too, I quite enjoyed it.
Post a Comment