…and top 5 low points

There are no highs without the lows. Here are five of my darkest moments from 2013.

1. Arcade Fire’s new album.

I can’t say that I hate it. I can’t even say that it’s a bad album. But I have never felt such a keen sense of disappointment in a band in my entire life. It genuinely makes me feel a bit teary just thinking about it. Yes, I need to get a life.

2. X Factor – the whole thing

I can’t even defend it any more. It’s been absolutely atrocious from start to finish.

3. My continuing battle with Arriva

They exist solely to irritate me. (And to bus people around the city, obviously. But they even struggle with that sometimes.) It is a mutual hatred. I ring them at least once a week to complain about something. And they still haven’t whacked the heating on on the 61.

4. Glastonbury

Or rather, the fact that I did not attend Glastonbury this year. ‘Twas no-one’s fault but my own and I am still fuming at myself for being so financially woeful that I didn’t get to go. Next year though! Next year, I’ll make up for it, and then some.

5. My hair

It was dyed for the first time in my life in May and I haven’t had it done since and now the highlights are white and mismatched and I haven’t got a clue what to do with it. SEND HELP.

Please note that my list of low points is half the length of my list of highlights. This surely means that, against all odds, and considering that my life is an ongoing farce, 2013 must have been alright.



My cousin Brian is getting married to the lovely Angela tomorrow, so the Crilly family (plus a couple of hangers on – hi David! Hi Phil!) have made the journey north of the border to attend.

Unfortunately due to lack of room in the car (overspill – Crilly probz) I had to get the train. I do like a good train adventure though so off I went, armed with a marvellous Spotify playlist, my tea (a packet of Discos and some wine gums) and loads of maps and bus timetables saved to my phone to help me get from Glasgow city centre to where we’re staying for the next couple of nights.

Things started to go a tad wrong when I arrived at Preston to get on my connecting train. Firstly, I’d eaten my nutritious evening meal only an hour into the journey, and secondly the train was delayed. Preston is not the best train station to be delayed in, as there is absolutely nothing there, but I just got stuck into Grazia and patiently waited.

I finally arrived in Glasgow an hour and a half late, a bit harassed and very hungry as the shop was shut on the train. At this point, my brilliant idea of screenshots of street maps was rendered useless as my phone died. I therefore spent a good while wandering aimlessly around town, found my bus stop, got on a bus and didn’t have the right change for the bus but the driver took pity on me and let me on anyway.  The ledge ♥

I then proceeded to get off the bus about fifteen years too early. There followed nearly an hour of wandering around Mount Vernon. I only had my photographic memory (geek skillz), road names on bus stops and, I kid you not, my trusty hearing aid picking up the noise of the motorway (which I knew was by our hotel) nearby to help me on my trek.

I finally arrived at my destination seven and a half hours after I left my house and charged my phone straight away, only to find about a million texts and phone calls off family members who thought I was dead.

I’m alive, I’ve had a McDonald’s for tea, and I’m safely ensconced in bed with Lenny Henry. Happy days.


Lenny and Catherine 4eva