It’s Day Two of my Christmas family country break away; if you haven’t read Day One, you can read it here; I’d say reading them in order is best, but do what the fuck you like to be honest. I do, and look where it’s got me? (Answer; into some bad, bad situations).
Today, I rose from my slumber, hoping to feel revitalized after a day of country air in my lungs, a view of greenery stretching into the wide yonder outside my bedroom window, and a fresh mindset to match my new fresh surroundings. Instead, I woke to find a Lindor chocolate stuck onto my stomach that I’d accidentally slept on after a 2am post-prosecco feast, and severe back pain because apparently I did 10 rounds with Rocky Balboa during the night.
I put on a brave face to my family at breakfast, hoping to come across the independent, strong, calm and collected woman I try to present to the world. In reality, I had my mascara leftover from last night, stained tracksuit bottoms, and a pounding head because I thought it was a good idea to use Absinthe as the accompanying alcohol over 4 rounds of Cards Against Humanity last night.
There’s a lot of things I’ll do and say in front of my family after a drink, I’ve realised, and gesticulate about semen, anal, cock rings and discharge is definitely one of them. It’s all fun and games when you’re 12 Pinot’s down, but when you’re sitting across the breakfast table asking someone to pass the HP sauce, it’s quite a different story.
It was then announced that we would be going on A Nice Family Walk.
Now, I don’t mean to be unbecoming, however I don’t really see the point in walks, unless there’s a pub at the end of the walk, and even then, I’d rather just go to the pub and not bother with walking through festering cow shit just for a G&T and bowl of chips that costs £72 in a rural gastro pub.
Of course, I had to go, as I am trying this new thing out where I am an involved member of the family who doesn’t complain and is friendly and polite. My attire was potentially unsuited to a trek through the countryside, and I somewhat resembled Paris Hilton on The Simple Life. A Christmas jumper that read ‘Jingle My Balls’ in sequins (Uncle Richard deemed this inappropriate and said he would report it to trading standards if it were him), a tartan mini skirt, and wellies with black faux fur socks.
After trudging through piles of actual shit, mounting fucking locked wooden stiles (I hoped the cows liked the sight of my thong that was on full display, and the gusset of my tights) and basically having to do backstroke through puddles because they were that deep, we materalised out onto a small expanse of water.
My mum, convinced she saw a body floating in the water (it was a piece of driftwood, we later discovered) decided to cause a scene, and frantically googled Witness Protection Programmes, in case the murderer (of the piece of driftwood), tried to seek revenge on her.
After Megan, (see Christmas Diaries Day One for further details on her), seemed reasonably quiet and un-annoying, I was beginning to think perhaps I’d misjudged her. Perhaps, for once, I would hold my hands up and admit defeat, that actually, I’d got her all wrong.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
‘So, what work exactly have you had done?’ Megan sprung on me, as I was attempting to crack open my second box of Highland Shortbread.
‘Sorry, pardon?’ I asked, half concentrating on trying to grapple a shortbread finger out.
‘Well, you know, I just thought as you get your lips done, you’ve probably had other things done haven’t you? I mean, it’s pretty obvious’
Now, I’m by no means what you’d call a natural girl; if I dunked my head in the local swimming pool it would turn green, I’ve been fake tanning religiously for over a decade, my makeup technique is what I’d describe as ‘go hard or go home’, and yes, now you’re asking, my lips are down to my little friend called Juvaderm. Have I had anything else done? No I have not. Would I have anything else done? Yes I bloody would, however I’m trying to start my anti-ageing process gradually so that all my ex boyfriends just think I’ve aged an absolute treat like Jane Fonda.
It took all my inner strength and decorum to not throw Megan out the window, but I managed it, and to be honest, I think I’m growing as a person.
I’ll speak to you all tomorrow, and update you on my further escapades.
All my love BGP xx