Liverpool Airport

Arrived at Liverpool airport a couple of hours early so as not to miss Louise. Thankfully found a public internet terminal, excuse any typos, I'm sat on a spindley bar stool looking like an overweight budgie balancing on a tiny perch. I've already wobbled off once! Just had my lunch in one of the many fast food eateries in the airport, with so much time to spare I wanted to take time over my food - not eat fast! As I sat there munching away on my sauce drenched burger a trio of business types swung in, all smart designer overcoats, slick back hair and pierced ears. It was clearly not the kind of place they regularly frequented but with such a limited choice of eateries on offer they could do little else but be seated and enjoy a taste of poor man's cuisine. Dashing down their laptops and oversized leather holdalls they placed their orders in loud, brusque voices and chummily clinked their beer bottles with one another whilst eyeing up a gaggle of girls waiting for their flight. I watched intently as they flirted with the attractive woman behind the counter, each one of them clearly twenty years her senior but with the staggering confidence of a twenty year old. I made some mental notes and sloped off, vowing to swap my welly boots for cowboy boots.

My daughter

Received an urgent email from my daughter Louise this morning. All is not well, she and her boyfriend Pierre have split and she flies into Liverpool tomorrow. Judging by the tone of the message she is quite distraught and eager to be home as soon as possible. She said Pierre has already left the apartment they were renting and she feels incredibly lonely. Of course I will be at the airport to meet her but I am not sure how to be. I have never comforted a woman following a relationship breakdown. After my wife and I parted ways, well after she publically dumped me in a fast food restaurant, I went out and bought her a king size chocolate bar as a peace offering. Actually it was so I could gain access to my home to retrieve my belongings but the chocolate seemed to bring her some comfort for five greedy minutes, stopped her wailing like a banshee at least. So perhaps I'll take some chocolate tomorrow or one of Louise's favourite magazines. Yes I'll take a small gift and enough money for two hot meals. I hope she's okay.

Bowling

Deferred my payment to the office biscuit kitty as the team have refused my request for Bourbons. My anger has now subsided, it's probably a good idea as I need to lose a bit of weight. I was scrabbling around for a good twenty minutes on Sunday morning, searching for a pair of stretch waist trousers that fit! Thankfully I remembered the stretch cotton chinos Dad bought me for Christmas and duly unwrapped them before leaving the house in a flurry in order to meet Lena at the designated time. I needn't have bothered rushing as she arrived half an hour late without so much as an apology. I put it down to nerves and we sallied on to the bowling alley. I wondered, as we walked down the street if I should cloak my jacket around her shoulders. It was a particularly nippy day and she only had a lightweight mac on for warmth. As we walked in silence to the bowling alley I though better of it and thankfully so as no sooner had we turned the corner the wind ripped right through us and I was glad of the warmth of my padded snow coat. We played the game of bowls in near silence, communicating through smiles and gesticulations only. Even when I nearly put my back out with a 16 pound bowling ball she said little to comfort me as I sat crippled with pain, clutching my back in agony unable to waddle to the bar. Reluctantly she bought me a sweet tea and sat with a face like thunder for five minutes. When it became apparent my discomfort would prevent me taking her out for a pub lunch she gathered her belongings and disappeared into a cloud of White Musk, still wearing the grotty bowling shoes she had borrowed from the alley. I was going to shout after her but then thought twice. She wasn't worth the energy.

Ton of Bricks

It seems I am to have an action packed weekend, today Dad phoned up with an impromptu invite to Blackpool's ice rink for 'quality time together', followed by a hearty chortle. Dad is big on physical activity so this plan was either hatched with one of two things in mind. Either a) for me to tear my lardy behind away from the computer or b) so he could publically humiliate me infront of his wife to be. My polite refusal fell on deaf ears and he was round at my flat in ten minutes flat, urging me to jump into 'that pair of grubby slacks' on the radiator. I felt like I was five years old all over again as he shoe horned me into the back of his car and hurtled off in the direction of the M55. I really wished my daughter Louise had been present to calm my nerves and steady me on the set of precarious blades I was loaned by Dad's fiance, one size too small they hurt like hell. However my beautiful daughter isn't back from Europe until next week, so I had to make do with clutching at Dad's oversized man bag as he deftly skated around the rink with me in tow. After thirty minutes of warm up he tore off across the ice like Robin Cousins after one cappucino too many and twizzed his lady love from one side to the other. She, like me, was a little less confident than Dad and kept asking him 'put the brakes on' when suddenly there was an almighty crash and all thirteen stone of her came down like a ton of bricks ontop of an unsuspecting chap in lycra. Thanking my lucky stars it wasn't me, I confidently skated over to find the poor figure skater nestled deep inside Dad's fiance's busom, his arms flailing like the panicked wings of a fly caught in a venus fly trap. A highly unsavory yet somewhat memorable end to the day.

Lucious Lena (part two)

Certainly getting my groove back as today I managed to twist the proverbial arm of the Lucious Lena from my French class and persuade her to come out with me. With that great oaf Shaun out of the way, the heffalump shattered his ankle roller blading (don't ask), it left me in charge of the seating arrangements at the back of class. No sooner had Lena entered the class I made space to allow her to shuffle in next to me. She was positively glowing, recently returned from her Christmas break at home in Greece she looked gorgeous. After a quick fire refresher of the imperfect tense our tutor set us to work in pairs which is when I made my move. Lena explained, in broken French, that she was missing home and her family. Seizing the moment I suggested she come bowling with me on Sunday and sample some traditional Lancashire hospitality. She was a little hesitant but at the end of the class agreed to meet me outside the bowling alley on Sunday. I would like to think my charm and intellect won her over, however it may have been the promise of a free meal in a country pub after bowling that swung it.

Bourbon Biscuits

I have developed a severe case of Blogger's Bottom. I have self diagnosed the problem after trying on three pairs of pants this morning and finding myself unable to get all but one pair past my ample behind. Symptoms include a cushioning of the bottom, similar to having a small pillow shoved down the rear of your trousers, only it's wobbly and unable to be removed as easily. The causes are numerable, sitting at one's computer for hours at a time whilst quaffing large mugs of drinking chocolate and eating packets of biscuits. Taking the bus three stops from the train station to work and a general relaxed nature when it comes to any sort of physical exercise. I could also blame my lack of love life but my new years resolution is too stay positive on that front so I won't go down that route. No I blame Bourbon biscuits, they've been on special offer since Christmas and I cannot resist.

Heart Shaped Box

Popped into town today to pick up a birthday card for dad and there at the front of the shop was a scarlett siren alerting me to my glaring status as a single man. Valentine's cards. Not just cards either there were glittery heart mobiles, kitsch heart shaped snow globes, fluffy teddies cuddling squashy hearts, heart shaped cardboard boxes, in fact the whole shop was one big ode to that hollow muscular organ that maintains the circulation of blood about the body, oh yeah and love. Well I have a heart I thought, a big strong one which has taken a few knocks but is still fully functional and with that positive thought I took to another card shop which had yet to display a sickly sweet display of fake fur and crimson. I maybe single again this year but refuse to let a few heart shaped helium balloons give me nightmares!

Skating on thin ice

When I was a child and about to get in trouble Dad always used to say 'You're skating on thin ice son'. I could hear those same words today as I negotiated the pavements on the way to the supermarket. Indeed I was in real difficulty at a pedestrian crossing, sliding towards the road when the signal was still on a red man. As my life flashed before my eyes out of nowhere came an elderly dog walker, fully equipped with sturdy thick tread walking boots and a hiking stick. She kindly saved me from near death and saw me to the bus stop where a bus waited, packed with gawping passengers watching my predicament unfold. As I paid my fare a small group of passengers cheered.
The horrendous journey to the station didn't stop there. Upon alighting the bus I was faced with yet more thick ice. Slowly I shuffled across, my arms outstretched for balance and my eyes on the dangerous surface beneath my feet. Out of nowhere a car whizzed past, pomping its horn loudly, I looked up suddenly and the momentary lapse of concentration caused me to land flat on my backside in full view of a nearby restaurant. The patrons were in stitches as I squirmed around on the freezing floor. I was just able to make out the make of the car to realise it belonged to fiendish wife thief Tony McNamara and in the passenger seat at my Ex, laughing her head off.

Arnie

Woke this morning to a blanket of snow and an icicle in my bedroom. Managed to negotiate a packed train and make it into work on time. The team mocked my padded, knee length snow boots - likening me to Arnie in Terminator and equally laughed at the lightweight slipper like footwear I subsequently changed into before commencing work. They may make fun of my footwear but at least I'll be back (at work tomorrow and not bearing the wrath of my team leader!).