There was a spider ON MY FACE

There I was, innocently sleeping, when I feel something running across my face just below my eye. I sleep on my side, so the thing was heading down towards my nose. What is your reaction when you feel something on your face? Here is the sequence of events as happened to myself:

Whack mystery thing on my face.

Jump up out of bed. Identify dead spider. Minorly freak out.

Wake husband, explain the horror I just experienced. to be told Husband says I am overreacting and it must have been just my hair tickling me.

Point to dead spider.

Husband grunts something along the lines of 'well, how about that' and falls back asleep.

Retreat to bathroom to wash dead spider bits from face.

Scrub face repeatedly.

Fear face may never be clean again.

Don't Eat This At Home

Peanut butter. It is salty, crunchy, and delicious. It also lasts forever, never going out of date in your store cupboard. Seriously, how many people have honestly thrown out a jar of peanut butter?

Or that's what I thought. Until today.

It looked so innocent, nothing to betray the taste horror within

I was wandering around the home of a relative I was staying with. They are an awful lot better off than most everyone else I know (they have a whole second fridge dedicated to expensive alcohol) and always have exciting things in. What arises from this, on occasion, is that things can get forgotten. On this particular occasion I was on a mission to locate breakfast...

So, I find a jar of peanut butter and crack it open, as you do. Stick the knife in, as you do. The problem arose when the jar content reached my mouth.

It was salty, sure, but it most certainly wasn't delicious. In fact, it tasted a lot like rancid butter combined with claggy slime, with overtones of fetid sock.

This crime against deliciousness could not be intentional, Surely? So, I checked the label. Use by 2012.

Jar, meet bin. 

Two coffees later, I can still taste the stuff. Rarely, have I regretted food this much. I may require therapy for peanut butter related PTSD in later life, and I am definitely sending them the bill.

The moral of this story: never, ever, eat out of date peanut butter. 

Am I blind, or is everyone else blinkered?

It is official: I am 22, and I already have marriage goggles.

Abandon all attractiveness, ye who enter here

This was proven a few weeks back, when I made my customary 'I-am-still-on-time-with-one-minute-to-spare-' dash into work. Before I had even made it to the team room, I was being stopped in the corridor (not a good thing - I had ONE MINUTE TO SPARE, PEOPLE!) to be told my day was "about to get better". As is usual for me in the morning, I spared them a confused look and pressed on towards my ever-present goal of not-lateness.

When I finally made it in there (on time, go me) it turned out what was going to improve my day was...

...wait for it...

A student paramedic, with more than a passing resemblance to Daniel Craig, was shadowing me for the day.

Imagine this, in paramedic uniform, and you've about got it

Now, I have nothing against paramedics (in fact, I respect them a lot), or Daniel Craig (I'm indifferent) but the amount of drooling from every other female in the area....I practically had to beat people out of my way with a stick to get any work done.

So, it is official; not only am I out of the butt grading committee (apparently I can't tell a good 'un from average) but I am trapped behind marriage goggles for all eternity.

Am I doomed to forever judge people on their personalities?

The horror.

Somebody get the violins out.

My so-called 'great ideas': posh holiday

Now, it shouldn't surprise anyone who has known me for more than five minutes that once I get a 'great idea' it tends to get stuck in my head.

Quite often these 'great' ideas turn out not even to be 'good' ideas.

Occasionally we even lapse into 'really, really bad idea' territory. For example, the time a friend and I built a raft that was too heavy to carry to water, or the time I bought 2 hamsters on a whim, and ended up with 50. Then repeated with rabbits.

Who could regret that face?

Anyway, to get back to the point at hand, my new 'really, really awesome' idea was that I want to go on an 'adults only' holiday.

Before you get on your high horse with the judging, I would like to state it is not that kind of adult holiday (get your mind out of the gutter). No, this is a Warner Leisure holiday, which I have been wanting to do since I was about 15.

In retrospect, the main reason I wanted to go was that I couldn't, being under the age limit at the time. Now I re-look at the adverts and realize that they are probably catering the the over 50's.

Nevertheless, it is booked, and I am dragging my long-suffering husband away in February to pretend to be posh with me in a castle.

My next job is to figure out how to act normal for an entire weekend...