K is for kin

April already. I think it's the law that time goes more quickly the older you get. I'll ask for a tardis for my birthday this year so I can revisit my favourite years and fast forward over the crappy bits.

Dolores was being a real cow yesterday. Had me confined to bed and threatening to screech round my head knowing that I had plans for the evening. X's father and father's wife were in town and we had promised to go out for dinner. This in itself was stressful enough as I had been told that both had strong Glaswegian accents and there may be something of a language barrier. I used to work with someone from the same area; he was great fun but he spoke so quickly and his accent was so thick that the only time I could understand him was when he was blind drunk and he slowed down somewhat. However, spiking the drinks of X's father on a first time meeting did not seem like a good idea.

Feeling more than a little egg-shelly I dined on prescription drugs before going out and put on lots of make up so my ghostly appearance didn't have people thinking I was a closet goth. Feeling queasy I was concerned about not having much of an appetite. I needn't have worried. The portions in the restaurant were so tiny I think even Nicole Richie would have had room for desert. Served up on glass plates I think their ploy was to create a reflection and the appearance of size but nobody was fooled.

On the bright side, no interpreter needed for conversation though.

Katy

(Korma or Jalfrezi?)