all around my...ARSE
Whoever got here by searching for "Lisa's arse", kudos to you. Another Google string to make me giggle.
Went out for a lovely curry tonight with Chris, Melanie, and a couple of other people. Apparently Chris feels cheated because he thought I was off to Toronto shortly after our dinner our last week - he claims that was my "bon voyage" meal, so what the hell was I still doing in town going out for dinner? As Jack would say, toughen up. You get not one, but two doses of pre-Christmas Lisa. What's to complain about?
I can't believe that I'll be on a plane heading home in two days. I'll let you in on a little secret: I don't like flying. Not one bit. I like being on the ground, I do. To be honest, I don't really mind flying when the plane's behaving; it's the turbulence that makes me nervous. I don't mean that "feels like we're driving along a country road" kind of turbulence, I mean that "things are falling and breaking and the plane is dropping like a rollercoaster" kind of turbulence. I seem to have that every third flight I take, so the odds aren't great for this holiday. I hate turbulence. It serves no purpose in my life, and I don't see the need for it to exist. What has turbulence ever done for us? Bugger all. Ban turbulence, I say - write a letter to your MP and tell them how you feel.
I think it'll be a lot better this time because I'll be with Paul. He's done plenty of flying (has even flown planes himself), and I think I'll feel much safer being with him. Also, it's much nicer to have someone I love to dig my nails into when the turbulence starts, because strangers sitting next to you really don't like that for some reason. Honestly.