Twilight Breaking Dawn Part 2: Get your teeth fixed and rip your lungs out.

Last week, almost 168 hours to the hour, husband-man and I decided to go see twilight breaking dawn part 2. It was all his idea... or was it? Perhaps that's a tiny lie. We roll up. Every trailer about zombies, or some other ill conceived-this-is-the-next-big-thing-after-vampires creature was pretty brutal to endure, a small taster for what was about to come. There was one promising trailer, something about Jesse Eisenberg and magic, I think it was facebook movie 2, but it looked interesting, mostly because of cast, oh I'm a sucker. Let's take a brief history lesson. In 2008 I was in a special place in life. I was in love, but not in love, and I was in pain through the love that I thought I felt, that was entirely unrequited, and 5000 miles of terrane and ocean would ensure that I would never find out if I was or wasn't in love. Regardless, I spent the summer freelancing... long summer nights (and they are long for those reading that are not in Scotland, the summer nights are from 11pm to 1am and even then the sky is just a dark blue) were filled with violin lessons, swimming, going to the cinema, eating olives an cheese, watching murder she wrote, and reading twilight. I started the first book while on a 'Am I in love or not? It doesn't matter you mean nothing to me' trip. I put it down, and never picked up again until several weeks later when the genuine curiosity of what was going to happen to Bella Swan was so overwhelming I just had to buy it from amazon for the cheapest possible price and wait a week for it to get there. I finished it, and was blah, and I could have stopped there, but good old Steph Meyer published the first chapter of book 2 at the end of book one. I had to know if Jasper could control his blood lust for Bella!!! I HAD TO KNOW! So off I went the very next day to Borders (RIP Buchanan Street Borders, gone but sorely missed. Never Forget) and paid NORMAL price, that's a big deal man... Big deal. Likewise, book two came to an end, pretty quickly too because it was written in point 18 type and for the understanding of an infant. Book three purchased, and read and then I had to wait. Oh how I had to wait. Book four was coming, but not for a WHOLE WEEK. How on earth could I survive. I ran to borders at lunch... I ran after work. None, no shipment... apparently it got 'lost'. I had to wait a WHOLE EXTRA DAY!! How did I survive you might ask? Well it was touch and go I must say. This was before the days that you could get the books at ASDA for 50pence, Borders was the only place. I got it the next day and read and read and read and decided that breaking dawn was the worst piece of writing to ever be published. A tree and several more like it died to allow that drivel to exist in corporeal form. Awful. I strongly believe that no-one edited it, I don't even think Steph re-read it once she'd beaten out the first draft. It was awful. I'm still shocked. Alas, I saw all the movies anyway. I lost interest in the movies around the third. I'm not sure why. I think it's because 'Edward Cullen' is the ugliest 'most perfect beautiful' vampire to walk the earth. Perhaps it's Kristen Stewart's lack of acting. Or maybe it was the plain truth that the writing of Steph is so shallow and has no character development. Awful. Perhaps an alien stole the part of my brain that was allocated for Bella and Edward. Or perhaps it's because I actually found requited love and couldn't care less about living love through other people, because I had my own awesome-love man, who was skinny and tall like Edward, but had a bit more colour in his cheeks... just a little bit more. Whichever of these conceivable rational ideas it was, it happened—I stopped caring. Couldn't care less. But yet I still participate because I'm a human, and I have to finish what I started. Which gets me to the point. Breaking dawn part two the movie is pretty awful. It's terrible. Vampires are supposed to look beautiful and perfect... Bella looks the same as always... stupid jaw and stupid face. Kristen Stewart, it's time you did the world a favour and ripped your lungs out so you are no longer tempted to use your giant nostrils to act with*. No-one on the planet wants to hear you breath ever again. I'm pretty sure you'll be fine without lungs. Rumour has it you've inhaled enough air in the past 20+ years of your life to get you through. You've had more than enough. Robert Pattinson, I'm still amazed that you're alive after dying in Harry Potter 4. Perhaps you're a zombie? That must explain why you are looking so ugly*. Edward Cullen in my head was radiant and stunning, you are pretty gross, and I've heard stories that you're pretty rich... It's time you get your front teeth fixed before they eat your own head. I also heard you grew up in England where you could have had braces FOR FREE until you were 18. Tut tut. I've never noticed your teeth before, but in Twilight Five your teeth look black from the shadow they are creating. With your pale face and black teeth you look like a sickly drug addict or like you've just eaten too many sweeties and never brushed your teeth ... I thought vampires were meant to be beautiful and stunning and perfect and they don't even eat real food that would rot your teeth. IT MAKES NO SENSE. It actually makes even less sense than Angel (from Buffy) getting chunky and wrinkly, but then I am bias and believe that entire franchise to be perfect. This was the best picture I could find, I would be tempted to buy the Twilight 4.2 dvd just to get a better screen shot of is teeth. In conclusion, I've said it once, and I've said it a few times more, and I will say it one more time. Twilight should have ended the same way the Lost Boys did. Charlie Swan sitting in his house opening his product placed blue stripe, or whatever he drinks, and muttering about all the damn vampires. BEST ENDING EVER. *Kristen, don't actually, you might die, I'm exaggerating for sake of storytelling. *No really, how are you alive after Volde... He-who-must-not-be-named killed you?

My long and complicated relationship with the bovine.

Memory time! When I was over 2 and under 6 I would always drink warm milk, before bed, from my Thomas the Tank engine plastic mug. (I want that back, whomever in the world has it.) Somewhere around 12 and 17 I asked to have Pasta with cheese grated on top of it. I loved it and continued to eat it at least once a week since the first time. Somewhere between 9 and 15 I would watch Gladiators on a Saturday and eat a burger with a cheese slice melted on it. When I was 21 I graduated and on my graduation day my mum bought me steak from Asda. (We'd had steak before but this one was memorable.) Somewhere around 22 I decided I wasn't eating beef anymore. Somewhere around 22 I decided not to eat cow cheese any more and proceeded to eat goats and ewe milk cheese. That didn't last long. Somewhere around 22 I ate a steak on the East Coast of the USA and realised that my intestines no longer knew how to process such things. Somewhere between 22 and 25 I ate beef and Broccoli from Singh's garden with Kate. Somewhere between 27 and 29 I had countless burgers, and steaks and barbecues... off the wagon? On the beef wagon? Somewhere around 27 I vomited ice cream. Somewhere around 27 I decided I was done with ice cream. Somewhere around 28 I decided I was done with cow milk. Somewhere later in 28 I drank some cow milk. It hurt my tummy. I ate through it. Somewhere around 7 weeks and 1 day ago I decided I was done with Dairy and processed carbs (ie bread in all its forms). Somewhere around 6 weeks and 1 day ago I noticed that I had shed a lot of excess mass. Somewhere in the past 7 weeks and 1 day I have eaten small amounts of butter (Lurpak of course), and if dairy shows up in things that have been put in front of me I don't make a fuss, I eat around, or just eat it. I still eat Potatoes (I can't deny my roots), but bread, tortillas, and all other things bread and yeast like have been rejected. I did eat cake on Jon's birthday (but I had made it myself, so it was minimally processed). I don't want to say i'm on Paleo, but i'm basing my thought process on paleo. And for the sake of living in society I try to not let it effect anyone. It's a great time because there's been so many gluten free people for so long that most places will do 'protein style', 'low card style' etc etc. Positive effects, a few. Weight loss, higher energy, less bloating, less allergic symptoms. The discovery of Larabars in all their flavours. The Negative effects. The meat. It's hard to eat meat sometimes. I get fed up of poultry and move on to bacon or beef every now and again and it makes me sick mentally. Today I had bacon and a tonne of asparagus for lunch. The bacon was so fatty I had to just pretend it wasn't an poor little piggy wig. I'll only have beef if I'm super craving it. For the most part I don't miss Cheese. I thought I would. Every now and then I kind of want it, but then I remind myself that I've eaten my fair share for several lifetimes in the first 29 years of my life. As for bread products and pasta, I have had a lot more of them than Dairy products in the past few weeks, Small nibbles of a tortilla from a burrito that I have dissected and Pumpkin stuffed ravioli, only 2. And there was that one night... Somewhere around 5 weeks ago I ate a pizza because it was all that was in the house, and I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst pain in my stomache I have ever felt. I need to be 'burped' like a small child. No more pizza. (I really do crave dominos... maybe for a special occasion.)

When it rains in California...

... It's impossible to see the lines on the road. That's a fact. I experienced it last night driving home from work. AND when you can't see the lines in the road it's very difficult to gauge your distance from cars in front of you. The two shouldn't really be related, but somehow they are... either that or I just can't drive, which, is an accusation I contest because I sat and passed my driving... oh yes!!!! I kept putting it off because I had the fear of failing because we all know it took my 5 times in the UK. Well, apparently the US test is no where near as difficult. I sat my written test at the end of September and only got 3 questions wrong. Yeah. I'd stayed up super late the night before studying the handbook, and I'm glad I did, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to answer questions like the allowance of alcohol in the blood, and other such wonderful things. Jon's getting fed up with me calling out 'illegalities' of other drivers while on the road. It's fresh in my mind, so I will pass judgement. If you're driving next to me I will judge you. I have failed to mention that before sitting the written test I got in such a mess that I was dry heaving and filled with pure anxiety the entire night before and morning of. I seems like my panic, anxiety and worry is getting worse with age. It seemed to level off for a while, but now it's back and worse than ever. Just the other day I woke up feeling alright, and immediately decided that I should be worrying about something, but couldn't remember what I should be worrying about. I still proceeded to worry about nothing. That's because I'm awesome. Sooooooooooo. Last week Jon and I went to disneyland. Heck Yeah... It was insanely fun and I was pretty sad to leave because in Disneyland nothing is real and reality doesn't exist and there's no worries.... 'forget about your worries and your strife?' yes please. It was insanely good. It was nice to spend time with boy man... because I love him.... go figure, who would have thought. And it was very nice to see him happy. Oh how happy he was. We brought the dog with us as well, and took her to the beach on Friday and Saturday of last week. The most expensive beach trip ever because when we pulled up at Newport beach (my used to be favourite) there was a man, and ENGLISH man, I must add, at our parking meter and he was under the illusion that it was his and he shared his rationale with us, which led us to believe that he was correct and so we paid in the meter this man had worked out was ours... when we returned to the car we had 15 minutes left and an old man in a hawaiian shirt was hanging around, he was in fact a parking attendant and he was, in fact, issuing us a ticket, we didn't know that's what he was up to because we still believe we had fifteen minutes, then he smugly presented us with a ticket and we immediately protested and explained and he watched us walk to the wrong meter and check the time, but he couldn't care less because I think to be a parking attendant you have to turn off every iota of compassion that makes you a human being, and become something else entirely: a robot, machine, alien, cow bag? I don't know which he was, but he clearly could see we made a mistake, and he clearly couldn't care less that we are all trying to live in a society and not just screw everyone over. We took photos and plan to contest because we paid with debit card (fancy Newport beach), so hopefully the contesting will result in not paying... Either way it was a fun beach walk with the puppy face, the price is yet to be determined though. We also took the dog face to Griffith Observatory and it was SOOOOO BUSY... welcome to LA on a Saturday.... we walked about 2 miles to get to the actual trails from where we parked... okay I exaggerated a little, it was more like 1.5 miles. It was far. Needless to say the dog was pretty tired. Success! If I can drain her of 10% of energy I feel like it's a grandiose achievement. Speaking of the tiny terrible terrapin, she just went through the bathroom bin and I had to pry her mouth open and remove several pieces of tissue that were stuck to the inside of her mouth where they had adsorbed all her mouth moisture. Wonderful dog. Back to LA. We decided to stay until Sunday (we were there Tuesday-Sunday last week), but finding hotels that are dog friendly is hard and easy. Easy if you don't mind staying in 1 star places in weird locations, for anyone's record La Quinta is definitely the best dog friendly hotel we stayed at. We didn't brace motel 6, although I've heard they are wonderful. One place to definitely avoid is Rodeway Inn in Caustic near Valencia... Although if you thoroughly enjoy feeling like your car is going to be broken into, stripped, or stolen, then this is your paradise. We were up from 3am and every 20 minutes after hearing obnoxious gang-esque conversations right outside our door. At first it wasn't apparent that the guys were staying there, they were on their phones, yelling at each other, and generally being loud and angry sounding. They also decided that it would take them 40 minutes to back their car into a space and turn the engine off, all outside out window, they also had someone sleep in the car... that's my only rational theory... because nothing else would explain why they kept turning their car engine on every 20 minutes for 10 minutes. Loud engine too. Lesson learned and lesson to all. If you want to 'get a head start' on your drive from LA to Sac Town, go the other side of the mountains, because Caustic is not worth the anxiety. I'd take night driving through the mountains any day. So I'm actually sick face this weekend. I woke up yesterday morning with weird lungs. That feeling like there's too much mucus in them. And by last night I had a sore throat. I'd had a headache all week, but i'd put that down to body fatigue from Disneyland (we walked a lot). I spent all of last night watching season 3 of glee and moping on the couch. Today I slept until noon and I've been a cleaning monster since, I only took a break to eat some dry cereal and decided blog time was happening. Sorry for the lack of images... I need to get back to cleaning otherwise I'd spend another 30 minutes uploading and making pretty images. They'll come. I will do it. Promise. Why is it the flat can never EVER stay clean. It's always so filthy. I want to try and scrub the carpet today... who puts a cream carpet in a flat that has a doorway straight out onto the street. Filthy filthy. And there's puppy stains all over it too. Oh puppy. The weather this week has been Radiohead. Tis the season.

Some things you should know

1. Jon and I have an awesome apartment. 2. We have a dog. 3. I worked at Anthropologie for a month (I had to quit because my back was hurting to no end, and it was starting to conflict with my other real job, and I was getting mentall drained working on Saturday's and some evenings after real work.) 4. After getting fired from Lojo (where I was bullied and treated like crap), I found a perfect job, downtown (30 minutes drive though) with an advertising agency. It started as freelance, but come this Friday it's real. 4a. Every day I get angry about Lojo and want to find some way to punish the owner, he should know that messing with a Scot is unacceptable. 5. Jon and I took puppy to the beach in San Francisco. 6. i have an iPhone (Jon gave it to me for Christmas) and I can imessage and instagram and all sorts. 7. While at Anthropologie I got discount there and at Urban Outfitters, so Jon and I partook on a few occasions before I quit. 8. My fridge is full of cheeses, and fresh fruits and vegetables and it makes me happy. 9. We take Puppy to the dog park a few times a week. 10. Puppy has some interesting habits. Like: hiding under the bed, looking at herself in the mirror when no one else is watching (she's self conscious), hiding wood bark in her mouth to sneak it into the house so she can chew it, Throwing her food to herself so it's more entertaining to eat, wearing her dog hoody and looking like a real person, digging holes in sand or soil, Whining whenever the car stops and the wind isn't coming through the window as quickly as she would like. 11. Some photo updates: Our vinylmation Mickey Collection. All from different 'moments' in our life. My wedding band is from the 1930s, it was bought up in an estate sale brand new, and kept for several decades then sold on ebay to me. Brand new from the 1930s insanely awesome. Denim is back. Wedding band from above. Our art wall. A tiny bottle of whisky given to me by one of the partners for working late and long hours for a proposal to be completed a few weeks ago. Jon's artwork. My rabbit jewellery holder. Mini Glow in the dark munny protecting books and my 'V' Genie and Tinkerbell Ursula Mickey Ears Duvet Cover Blouse Where possible, I keep all my shoes in their boxes. Holding horses rosette jean shorts. Love the label. Turquoise Lace Blouse Yarn my mum sent me that she bought from a shop where Angela Lansbury buys her wool. LOVE! Orange juicer and ampersand. BELT! Metal Tipped collar. Furry leopard shoes. Jon at the beach Jon still at the beach China Town in SF. China Town in SF. China Town in SF. China Town in SF. China Town in SF. China Town in SF. China Town in SF. China Town in SF.

2011 Came Back with one last Jab.

So, I had thought that 2011 totally redeemed itself. On the 31st of December I received an email offering me a job.

A design job non-the-less. I was excited to make money again, and pay off debts, and be able to afford the normal things of life.

I started the job on January 16th, a few days after getting back to California.

So far work has had ups and downs. It's an oddly managed place. Too many cooks, not enough food kind of deal. With a very hypocritical and condescending owner. But it was tolerable, and the other designer was quite fun to talk to. It was nice to have purpose and socialising again.

On Friday, 26 days after starting, at five minutes to lunch I was fired. For 'economic reasons'. I was supposed to be on a 60 day trial period, and I never even made it that far. I've been given another 2.5 weeks of work then I'm out. I'm actually so shocked and stunned by the whole thing.

I feel like every plan I had this year has just been blown up. The thought of looking and applying and interviewing again makes me so depressed. It took me months to even get an interview before.

The even crazier part is that literally the day before Jon and I signed paperwork for an apartment, all decided upon and based on both of our incomes. We have until March 19th – our move in date – to somehow find me another job. The whole thing is unnecessary stress.

I don't know if i've ever been so angry at anyone. I'm just so mad that another human being would be so reckless with someone else's life. I get the impression that everything he does is for his own personal gain without any kind of respect for his employees or the job they perform – as long as they get it done so he gets money. It's an awful way to practice business.

So, given that this job was all the responsibility of 2011, I'm blaming 2011, and hoping with all my being that 2012 still has a lot of great things to offer.

Dear 2011 (An Amendment)

Dear 2011,

It appears that my last letter to you was a little hasty. I had no faith that you could deliver a 2011 miracle in such a short space of time. But in actual fact I was wrong.

You delivered to me, a mere 9 hours after my last letter, another letter affording hopes and promises for the arriving days of 2012.

For this I am very thankful, and would like to say that there is still a little under 3 hours for you to work your magic again not just for me, for everyone else that has had, to use the colloquial term, 'beef' with you.

In your honour and in all fairness to you, here is a list of the things that have happened that I can be very grateful you brought for me.

• My permanent residency card
• My trip home to see my very missed family and friends
• The recipe for home-made diluting orange juice
• The ability to help make a short film
• Being married, regardless of the lack of a wedding or the circumstances surrounding it
• Seeing various friends that I hadn't seen in a long time in various cities: Charla, Farris, Marcus, April, Natalie and Niki in Salt Lake. Eilidh in LA. Chris in Sacramento as he passed through. Mary, Donna, Lorraine, Laura and Toni, in Glasgow.

Although you and I have been at loggerheads, I can already look back in fondness, at a few of your offerings.

Thank you.

Dear 2011

Dear 2011, I think there's been some kind of mix up. For several years prior to your arrival I had anticipated great things to happen during your visit. It appears that the events that have occurred are more reminiscent of the visitation of an even number. The only thing that can explain this is that you were not, in fact, 2011, but another year that has been sent by mistake. I look forward to when you do come.

If my instinct is wrong and you were the real 2011, then I have a bone to pick with you.

There were several moments during the past 364 days that should have been epic, amazing memories forged with the blessing of 11. What you gave me was nothing short of a disaster at every turn. Having been a faithful follower of the odd numbers and the 11s I take it personally that you did not provide the spectacular perfect year that I had anticipated, and in fact made it a pretty lousy year, not even mediocre, it was a disaster. Not just for me either, it seems like you went out of your way to make life awful for several of the people I care for and know in my life. So what's the problem?

There's only two explanations I can thin of, 1. You don't care and you really are awful. or 2. This is one of these situations where you planted a bunch of seeds that will blossom in years to come and when I look back to see how these things happened it will all lead back to you.

Do I believe you are that smart? Yes. Do I believe you work so mysteriously? No. But only time will tell.

I would like to sever our contract in 31 hours, I will move on and you can move on too. It is with regret that I see you go because even in the next 31 hours I am naive enough to believe that you might just come through, that you might fulfil your spectacular promises. I hope this is true, but I have to admit that I have lost faith in your abilities.

I wish we could have been best friends, and hopefully with hindsight I can realise we were. It has been a pleasure knowing you, and I'm sure I will have fond memories of you in the future once all the bitterness subsides.

Your friend in the 11s forever

Vikki