Reading and Writing and a little bit of Adventure

See the thing is: I'd like EVERYONE to read my blog and heap critique and praise upon me. But I'd also like precisely, no one new to read my blog, thus letting me write anything I choose.
I wanted this to be a blog similar to my diary, but I've also realised that I'm censoring myself. That I'm imagining readers out there who might judge me. I don't particularly care if people think I'm ditzy/dumb/blonde/idiotic - because then when I wow them with my brain cell, they are all surprised. ;o) But I do worry that someone might take away the wrong message from my words.

I can't think of one instance where they might, but it's still a thought in my head when I'm writing. And then I think - do not be ridiculous, you have all of 2 readers! So with that in mind, I am going to copy and paste something I started (but didn't finish) back in 2012. It could very well be the start of a story - it could very well be 'something'. If I don't get anymore than 5 views, I will un-censor myself. I've only pasted a little bit of what I've written - a teaser if you will. Enjoy?

My Adventure:

“Box of fags Lily, I need a box of fags”

I was stressed out and frazzled. After months of prep and working overtime and plans and lists and notes of lists to do, I was finally booked into flight EY12 and on my way. Having given up smoking a million years prior, it was slightly odd I was demanding nicotine. But I was travelling into the unknown. For most people it was a slightly long way to go for 10 days, for those who knew me, well, they thought it would never happen.
You see, I’m a ‘gonna do’. I love having a plan, I love having a goal and I find it very easy not to get to them. Scared of failing? Oh for sure!

Boarded and I’m on my way… 3 planes to Destination. 3 planes until I relax. And I won’t believe it’ll happen until I’m in that hotel room. And that’s not me being negative, it’s just me accepting that the Universe is sometimes very cruel.

I am travelling halfway around the world. Yes, I am really doing this. And I’m not entirely sure if it’s because I’m blonde, look bewildered or I’m alone - or even a combination of all three but everyone is wanting to help me. I can’t sleep for the air hostesses plying me with food. I can’t move in the airport without strangers, fellow travellers and ground staff directing me. Could it be that the Universe is giving me a break?

And some 18 hours later and 3 planes and a Burger King in Abu Dhabi, I reach Phuket. My cupcake case has travelled with me - I could have smooched the sides off that suitcase. And here I am. I really have done this by myself (albeit with every nationality helping).

No driver outside customs. No driver in the hall. So I walk outside. And the heat hits me. I dressed in layers thinking the warmer it got, the more I could remove. But in Bangkok I was just a disgusting sweaty heap and decided to just run with it. The heat physically propels me back. I left England where it was a whopping 13C and now the numbers have switched themselves. It’s no longer an act, I’m seriously bewildered and confused and slightly nervous. There are people everywhere. Lots of tourists looking like me. Lots of men waving signs and flowers and shouting. And a man with a clipboard, he’s pretty official looking and he grabs me and shouts “Who are you”. To be fair, I don’t really know. I think of grabbing my passport to have a look. All of a sudden, it really doesn’t seem like it was a good idea to have stayed awake since Monday 6.30am when it’s Wednesday now.

And then there’s my driver - holding a sign with my name. That’s MY name! He’s a lovely man who is just so happy I say hello in his language. He tries to teach me some more Thai, but my brain refuses to engage. I offer to sit in the front, he looks as confused as my brain is. But he lets me and we have a jolly old yarn. I tell him the roads are better here than in England - he cannot believe it. I say no doubt because they don’t get frost and ice and snow in Thailand. First foot in mouth case… I totally forget that due to the Tsunami, they needed new roads, these roads aren’t old roads. The Romans probably didn’t build them. Idiot.  I see a Tesco and a Boots. Yes MaccD’s I totally expected, they span the Globe like the little parasites they are (McDonalds, the nits of the World - ha!) But Tesco’s… bet they won’t take my club card.
And human sized ceramic chickens for sale along with all the animals you can think of. How do people get them home? If I lived here, I would have a couple of those chickens in my garden. How are they made? Who makes them? Is there a giant chicken used as a model? Is there a market?

My eyes are everywhere, soaking up everything and my driver is fantastic, tells me about the rubber plants and the pineapple plants and the coconuts plants. He’s knowledgeable about vegetation. We pull into the hotel. It’s gorgeous. And a million times better than the pictures on the internet. The heat hits me again in my skanky jeans and vest and other vest combo. Whoever said ladies glow, never went to Thailand in jeans! I can feel my toes sweating.