I'm waiting for episode seven of The Walking Dead to finish buffering, quite patiently actually, because I don't want it to end, and then have to wait until February to watch the next one. Silly American's and their silly T.V ways! I haven't posted in a wee while, and thought I'd kill some time, and amend that now.
So, we went to Scotland, Glasgow. And to be honest, I never want to go back. The whole city seems to dirty, and dank and depressing! I never felt so homesick in my life! And I'm British! I just wanted to get back to Ireland after the first day. And I had another three to go! The company wasn't exeedly exciting either! A tired, stressed and grumpy boyfriend, and his chick-whipped pal!
Our first night was spent eating and catching up on sleep, as we were up most of night having travelled from Galway at 3am in order to catch our flight from Dublin. We're never going to do that again either!
The second day we were there was the day of the competition, so himself was slightly nervous, even if he wouldn't admit it, and Mr. Whipped was grouchy and tired. I felt like I was babysitting! It was an early start all around, again. Getting up at 7am to get to the stadium (yes, it was held in a stadium!) at 8ish for weigh in, and gear check. We had to wait around for each lift, which I didn't mind, because it meant I could watch the chicks lift (That sounds kinda pervy, but it was just because I was so impressed by them! Some 50 year old deadlifted over 100kg! That's mental!) and then perv on the guys in his category while waiting for him to lift. ;).
Mr. Whipped was becoming quite agitated towards the end, and started pestering me for the use of my camera. I gave in. He took ass shots. And a lot of them. I really was babysitting. I eventually sent him away to get a cookie and coffee. Just for a moments peace!
Overall, he placed in the top three of his category, to which I am extremely proud of him! Next year we're off to Boston. And alone this time.
The Sunday after the comp, we bummed around the hotel a lot. We were tired, and just wanted to go home at that stage. We were both missing Ireland (I never thought I'd ever admit to that, but yes, I missed Ireland.) and home in general. Mostly a nice cooked home made meal which we didn't have to hunt down. We did go to a museum, and went to an AC/DC exhibit, accompanied by Mr. Whipped of course. It was nice, and interesting, and I totally fangirled over a tiny scrap of paper with Alice Cooper's name on, but what are you gona do?!
The day we flew home was freezing! Out flight wasn't until 6pm, and we had to get out of the hotel at 11am, which meant wandering around town for an age. It sucked. There was nothing really there to see. I missed the streets of Dublin, and Galway, and believe it or not, even the streets of Carlow and Athy! Just anything of home! I just wanted to get back there. Thankfully, when we got back to Dublin, Sam agreed to pick us up, and we left Mr. Whipped to get his bus back to Galway. She even brought us to Tesco, and Symths! And I got to interact with Irish people again! When we got home, I even rang up work, and ordered pizza! It was so thrilling to just be home, away from that horrible place! And sleeping in my own bed was just bliss. I didn't realise how much I missed it until I sank into it that night.
So, I'll not be going back to Glasgow any time soon, that's for sure. And anyway, our next British adventure has already begun it's planning. We're appArently going to London for a week. We'll see how that goes. At least in London I'll be closer to home-home (in a sense).
To end on a light note, the guy on reception when we checked in was exceedingly helpful, and had one of the most impressive moustaches I have ever seen. Congratualtions on your facial hair, good sir!
