Feel the fear and do it anyway.

I have been thinking some more about this trip to the States. I probably should have done the thinking prior to booking my flights but I usually find that my impulsive decisions work out to be the best decisions in the end, despite the unbelievable amount of 'cons' compared to 'pros'. And there are a lot of cons for this trip. Number 1 in capital letters, bold, underlined and in size 24 font is 'I have no money'. Number 1a is 'I have to deliver leaflets in order to pay for my flight'. Dear Lord. Whenever I find myself doing a ridiculously shite job it's because I have a flight to pay for. Delivering leaflets about the smoking ban is likely to be right up there around number 2 on my lifetime list of shite jobs. Right after the job where I had to sell free kitchens. It's only for 2 days, though. It'll pay for a quarter of my flight. It'll be good exercise.

Number 2 on the list of cons, is 'What if I get lost and/or murdered?'. How capable am I of taking a variety of buses and trains 858 miles across America on my own? And it's more than 858 because that would be directly from Chicago to Boston. I have to go via just about every city and random place of interest that's nearly on the way. I was born to travel the world, I think. Because wherever I am, I know it's near somewhere else. And what's the point in going all the way to America and not going to Memphis? And now that Memphis is on the route, is there any point in not going to New Orleans? Sadly I haven't been able to justify New Orleans as yet, and I'm pretty gutted about that. It doesn't seem do-able but hopefully I can find a way to fit it in. I suppose it's impossible to get lost when you're travelling on Greyhound. They're everywhere, aren't they? Except I have a crap sense of direction and can never find my way back to bus stations. That's what R was good for. She always remembered where the bus station was, and she could read maps. Oh fuck. I'm going to get lost. I'm a bit worried about the possibility of murder but I should be OK if I'm sensible, right? When am I ever sensible?

And number 3. What if I get really lonely? I've never went anywhere on my own. Except that time I went to London for a night and was too self conscious to even go into a restaurant so I got stuck eating Subway for dinner and watching Eastenders in the hotel. I was different back then, though. I've changed. I'll meet people. I'll be thin, as well, so I'll be all confident and beautiful and everyone will want to talk to me. Or murder me.

I can't get over the thought of Number 4... 'the Return of the Backpack'. I thought I'd got rid of that fucking thing for a while, but it seems that I'll be getting it back out of the loft sooner than everybody expected. It has pretty flags sewn on it from last summer so at least it'll look a bit nicer, and everyone will think I'm an experienced world traveller, and be impressed. I can buy a US flag too. At least I have learned some lessons and it will no longer be subject to excess baggage charges. I will be casually throwing it over my shoulder and running to catch buses instead of having to do warm up exercises every time I want to pick it up. Another trip also means the return of the *shudder* travel towel. I might have to buy a new one. It still smells a bit and we were stupid enough to insist on saving about £1.50 to buy a medium instead of extra extra extra large. Which would've been normal towel sized, instead of face cloth sized.

OK so there's a few cons. But now that I've went for it and confirmed the flights, paid my deposit and bought a Lonely Planet, the cons are irrelevant. Despite them, I am still going to do this. It's only a month, and I'll only be alone for under 3 weeks of that. I think it will be important to me. I think it will improve me and make me more confident. I think it'll be fun, and exciting, and interesting.

I can't wait.

When I go on this trip I'll be a size 10

An itinerary I just made up:

Glasgow - Chicago (American Airlines)
day trip to Memphis, Tennessee (I know it's a million miles away, so in reality it'll be a day-and-two-night trip)
Chicago - Toronto
Toronto - Niagara Falls
Niagara Falls - Buffalo
Buffalo - Cleveland
Cleveland - Pittsburgh
Pittsburgh - Lancaster
Lancaster - Philadelphia
Philadelphia - Washington DC
Washington DC - Baltimore, Maryland
Baltimore - New York
New York - Hartford, Connecticut
Hartford - Rhode Island
Rhode Island - Boston
Boston - Glasgow (annoyingly via Chicago)

Two countries, nine US states, eight that I've never been to before.

Some places seem slightly random but I'm a bit like that when I travel. I read one obscure fact about a place and I go there, hence the trip to Connecticut just because Mark Twain's house is there (and also a little bit because it's where The Babysitters Club books were set and, you know, I have every single book from that series ever published stored in the loft...well, every single one published until I was 12 anyway...), Memphis obviously to see Graceland, Pittsburgh because my penpal when I was 12 lived there and I'm sure I have a good reason for the Baltimore stop but I've forgotten what it is. Some of the places are just stopovers to break up the journey and places I have to go through to get somewhere else (See, Buffalo). The majority of the trip will be on the Greyhound buses with one little Amtrak journey slotted in. Flights are reserved for me, all I need to do is take a deep breath and confirm them with a £75 deposit. Je suis scared. But mainly excited. I've never went anywhere on my own before except a night in London and I was too scared to go anywhere. That was before I changed, though. I can do it now. God, I love to make plans.

Especially when I should've been writing an essay.

The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers

In the spirit of my new improved more active life, I bought a trampoline. A small, aerobic trampoline. The following instructions are a sample of what the manufacturer's believed to be vital information that should be passed on to the potentially over-enthusiastic new owner:

1. No somersaulting

Yeah. Because that's likely.

2. No jumping under the influence of alcohol or with cigarettes

I'll remember that next time I come home drunk and it seems like a realllly hilarious idea to jump on a trampoline.

3. No jumping in the dark
4. It is not to be used as a takeoff trampoine
5. No jumping onto the trampoline from other objects

They're trying to take all the fun out of this, aren't they?

But my favourite is...

6. It is forbidden to linger under the trampoline

Even when I've had my trampoline for a few months and have slimmed down to a size 10, I will not be able to fit under the trampoline. My cat is too big to fit under it. Even if I was under it, it is extremely unlikely that I would be lingering around long enough for someone to unknowingly start jumping on it and consequently causing an injury.

So there you have it. All these rules are almost enough to make me give in and adopt the trampoline as a footrest but I am a new me. I am an active person now. I exercise. As soon as This Morning is finished, I'll get off my arse and start bouncing.

I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

Excuse the Britney quote in the title. As much as I adore Britney, that wasn't one of her best songs (clearly that was "You're toxic I'm slippin' under... *shout it out* With the taste of the poison paradise, I'm addicted to you, DON'T YOU KNOW THAT YOU'RE TOXIC!?") but I think it's fitting.

People at the pool keep referring to me as 'that woman' or 'the lady'. For example parents say to their kids, 'Stop splashing the lady' (yes, please stop splashing the lady. Before she fucking drowns you.). It's getting a bit worrying. At least one person has said it every single time I've been swimming (and I've actually been sticking to the Swim Plan, and more importantly it seems to be working). Every single time. And nobody has referred to me as 'that girl'. Not one person. One woman did call me 'that lassie', which leans more towards the girl side but is a bit ambigious.

It's worrying me slightly. I'm only twenty twooooo. I'm just a girl (a No Doubt quote - maybe that should've been my title). I think. When did I start looking like a woman? Maybe I'll start needing Botox soon. Anti-ageing creams. Maybe I am an adult. Maybe when I graduate and get a real job I won't look so out of place. I won't look like a student pretending to be a marketing graduate. I don't want to grow up and I especially don't want to look like I've grown up.

These thoughts scare me, but would scare me slightly more if I hadn't got asked for ID buying a bottle of vodka last week.

Alcohol may affect your ability to make sensible decisions

Last night, after 1 and a third bottles of wine (740 calories. Shite), enthusiastic agreement to the question 'Does everyone want doubles?', lots of dancing, laughing, singing, and jumping (yay - exercise!), much admiring of the beautifulness of Dirty Pretty Things, a whole series of events of which I can only remember sketchy, blurry details, an argument with a wanker of a taxi driver (I still don't know what his problem was...I was sick OUTSIDE the taxi, not all over his seats or anything. And I would've given him directions as soon as I woke up), and a little bit of crying, I believe I accepted a lift home from a stranger (I say 'believe' because, as I said, details are sketchy).

Luckily he turned out just to be a nice guy and not a murderer, but I'm honestly scared of my own stupidity. I practically gave him an invitation to rape me. An extremely drunk girl stumbling along a deserted, unlit street on her own... Jesus. I hate when I can't remember what's happened to me because usually no matter how drunk I am, I still remember (although that can be both a good thing and a bad thing...). Last night is mostly one big fucking blank.

I went to uni this morning with my hair matted and sticky from beer, with a bag full of mascara stained scented windscreen wipes which I'm assuming were provided by the helpful stranger. Niiiice. It took strength I didn't think I had to lift my head off the pillow but I had a meeting I had to go to. It turned out to be a waste of time and could all have been done via email which pissed me off, so I went shopping to make myself feel better. It worked.

I have to get out of here.

Driving in your car
Oh, please don’t drop me home
Because it’s not my home, it’s their
Home, and I’m welcome no more

- The Smiths, There is a Light That Never Goes Out

Travelling Expenses Day

I wish I was a celebrity so I could demand that shops were closed to the public while I browsed. Particularly Primark, because that's always full of people who walk too slowly and take up whole aisles while they uummm and aaaahh over every £3 black t-shirt they walk past (just fucking buy it!). The public ruin every shopping trip I go on. Someone recently pointed out to me that while a person can be nice, people are always cunts. Very true.

There was a stripy skirt I wanted. Typically it was on a rack that was practically floor level, all the hangers were tangled up together mixed in with 10 other types of non-stripy skirts. I hate when shopping gets too much like hard work. It's why I hate sale racks. Shopping should be easy and leisurely, no effort required. But...I wanted the skirt. So I had to get down on my hands and knees and prove to the Gods of shopping just how much I wanted it. It wasn't easy, trying to hang on to my other bags and the big handful of clothes I'd already randomly selected on the way round (I really should start using a basket in that shop). It was a struggle, but eventually I stood up triumphantly with the last size 14 (hopefully the last size 14 item I ever buy before my slimming takes off) stripy skirt clutched to my chest. After all that I kind of expected all the other shoppers to have been watching the action, silently cheering me on, and as I looked around, dazed by the bright lights, I wondered for a second why they weren't breaking into applause. Of course, they hadn't even noticed.

Hmpfff

I didn't lose any weight this week. Not impressed. How does this work? I thought I finally got this weight loss thing, but evidently not. Last week I went 1852 calories over my allowance and lost 4lbs. This week, I only went 22 calories over (how saintly) and did more exercise than the week before, and I've lost fuck all. What's going on!? I was gutted.

Another interesting point: I burned 50 more calories on Friday night at Babyshambles than I did swimming for an hour the day before. I'm considering changing the Swim Plan to the Gig Plan. Much more enjoyable, and I prefer smelling of smoke, beer and sweat than cholorine, although gigs are a bit more expensive than my local council swimming pool. And the alcohol consumption kind of cancels any calorie burning effects out. This weight loss thing is pretty fucking frustrating. I'm sticking with it, though. Unless I haven't lost anything by next Tuesday...