So, after work today, Robbie and I decided to hit Laura's flat for the Scotland v. Wales match since O'Neill's (now renamed Nialls) was jampacked with Celtic fans who were out for a full day drinking binge. Scotland was leading when we arrived. But somehow those Welsh bastards managed to pull their game together and during the last 3 minutes,while I was busily flicking through a Heat magazine, Robbie was cringing behind his neon pink Mickey Mouse plate, Alex was being all manly by shouting a few non-sensical half sentences and Laura was climbing about the sofa like a chinchilla on LSD, Wales managed to score and so Scotland lost. Meh, doesn't really bother me.
Worked out the other day that there are currently 9 movies out in the cinema that we really want to see, so Robbie worked out that if we go at 9:30am we can finish at least 6 of those films. I had to put my foot down on this, as the 9:30 suggestion was for Astro-Boy no less. No way, José! In the end, never did make it to the cinema since Robbie was hungover.
The previous day, was just conditioning my hair when the water went off. It was about 2 degrees outside (which in our toilet translates to about -2 since its normally colder INSIDE than outside....) and Scotland has hard water, meaning it takes longer to wash off soapy suds. Ended up hanging over the sink and washing my hair out in the freezing cold.
Since I HAVE to wash my hair every day, else I get ansty, I popped round Robbie's to use their shower (which is fair enough, since the boys are normally passed out at ours). As I was drying my hair in the living room, with Robbie wrapped up in his Assassin's Creed bathrobe-ripoff, he turned to me and said "This is waay too domestic". To which I heartily agreed and immediately called the plumber to fix our shower.
St. Valentines Day tomorrow. Which means a lovely dinner with Robbie, Kirsty and Alex at Mediterranea and then getting absolutely pissed at Pub Quiz. Boo-Yah!
