So, we just got back from Scotland... BARELY. I am convinced we are cursed when it comes to traveling together. At Christmas, flights were a nightmare because of the snow, and for this Easter wedding, flights were a nightmare because of an Icelandic volcano. What's up your sleeve next time, Gatwick? Godzilla? Plus we missed our first connecting flight going up to Inverness since it took over 1 hour to get our bags. I then proceeded to have a minor breakdown for a consistent six hours or so while Duncan sorted things out, and got us into an airport lounge for free drinks.
I had a few more other bouts of hysterical nonsense which I attribute to lack of sleep, but in the olden days would you know they would blame my UTERUS? I also had SLEEP PARALYSIS on my first night in Scotland, which in the olden days they used to blame on DEMONS. So I put the two and two together and decided I have a DEMONIC UTERUS. (I had a brief moment of panic when looking up sleep paralysis and found it to be a symptom of narcolepsy, which I confused with necrophelia, and they're not the same AT ALL).
Back in Vancouver now though and the cherry blossoms are well, blossoming, and it's beautiful and there's no volcanos and I had a nice sleep without demons sitting on me.
Scotland itself was brilliant, and I got to see my darling in a KILT and a BALMORAL, and he looked lovely. And we danced, kinda, except I wouldn't let him lead since I'm awkward like that and also I kept thinking my dress was falling down. WHY DOES HE TAKE ME TO NICE PLACES? Anyways, more to come on Scotland later...