In a nutshell

the week was a vertible orgy of slightly inebriated chat, mostly with the Mafia and my new crony/foil Ashley, bringing to the party the unique perspective of a Canadian archaeologist turned chef. If there ever was a person qualified to use the word "dude" in a really convincing way but who I have never heard say it, it's her.

I had a slightly odd experience on Saturday on the way to the TM practice in Glasgow. With both Davis and I suffering from fairly fierce hangovers, we stopped in an out-of-town retail park type place to get some cholesterol and drove through a McDonalds there. (I must admit to feeling slightly guilty - it's been ages since I've bought anything from the Great Satan of fast food - but it did get the job done.) We parked in the centre of the place, surrounded by single story chain restaurants, a bowling alley and hundreds of car parking spaces. I was staring out of the steamed up window and had a niggling feeling of familiarity that I couldn't place.

Then, as I was slurping the remains of my coke, a colossal Dodge Ram pickup burbled past us and I had a weird moment of cognitive dissonance: it felt exactly like we were in the US. Sitting in the car with cartons of fast food, with a massive (and massively pointless) truck rumbling by and surrounded by acres of tarmac and plastic chain restaurants it could have been any one of a number of places we stopped at in June.

That holiday has had more of an effect on me than just about any other in the last few years; it's not that I actually remember a great deal about it but I find myself reminded of situations we encountered or places we visited at the most unexpected times.

I think it was probably the 4°C temperature and persistent rain that finally broke the illusion. We left just in time to A) hit a load of traffic and consequently B) arrive half an hour late. Nice.

I had dinner with my infuriatingly culture-hopping, jet-setting and generally interesting parents on Sunday night; freshly back from Milan and Cologne, my Dad's now talking about building a Lotus 7 replica and my Mum is already planning a return trip to Cologne to buy some new furniture. This Nürburgring trip can't come soon enough - with Ruth off in Australia and apparently having an excellent time, I've been relegated to last place in the Most Exciting Family Member stakes. The more cynical/realistic among you might well argue that I've already been there for ages.

P.S: My hair continues to grow in a ludicrous fashion. I'm starting to resemble the kid from Flight of the Navigator. Starting to dress like him as well, which is perhaps more worrying.